SOone after the passion of our Sauiour Iesus Christ, there reigned in little Brittaine a king named Garinter, enstructed in the lawe of veritie, and highlye ador­ned with many laudable vertues: hauing a Noble Ladye to his Wife, by whom he had two beau­tifull Daughters. The eldest (béeing maried with Lan­guines King of Scottes,) was commonly called the Lady of the Garland: because the King her Husband, taking great pleasure to beholde the golden tresses of her haire, would haue them no otherwise couered, then with a faire circle or chaplet of Flowers: Languines enioying by his [Page] Quéene, Agraies and Mabila, of whom this present Hi­story often maketh mention. The other yongest Daugh­ter to this King Garinter, was named Elisena, very much excelling the eldest in beauty, and though she had beene oftentimes desired in mariage, by sundry Princes and great Lordes: yet as then she had no will therto, but for her solitarye and holy life, was commonly called of euery one, the lost Virgin in Deuotion, considering that in a person of such estate, endued with such excellent beauty, and solicited by so many great Princes, this strickt reli­gion was not conuenient. King Garinter béeing somwhat in yéeres, for recreation tooke pleasure in Hunting, when at one time among other it happened, that hauing ap­pointed a méeting néere one of his Cities called Alyma, a Hart was put foorth, in pursuite whereof him selfe wan­dred very farre: wherfore séeing he had lost both his peo­ple and game, commending him selfe to God, he began to make somewhat the more haste, til hauing trauersed first one way and then another, at the very entraunce into a Wood, he saw two Knightes fighting against one. Soone had he knowledge of the twaine, in y^t they were his own Subiectes, of whom he had heard sundrye complaintes: but slender order was taken in the cause, by reason of the great alliance they had in the Cuntrye, as also for that they kept themselues still in this great Forrest. Who the third should be, he meruailed, and for that time he so well liked the valour of the one Knight, as he feared not what might happen to the other twaine: wherfore he withdrew him selfe a little further into the Forrest, be­cause he might the better beholde the issue of the fight, which sorted to such effect, as by the strength of the one Knight, both the other were vauquished and slaine. The King beholding what had happened came foorth of the Wood, when the Knight seeing one so néer him abo [...]e, thus demaunded. Gentle Sir, what C [...]try is this, where Knightes errant are thus assayled by robbers & théeues. [Page 2] Let this be no wonder to you Sir, answered the King, for this Cuntry yéeldes as other doo, both good and bad. As for them that thus assaulted you, they haue done di­uers and villainous outrages, not onlye in this Wood, which hath been their accustomed receptacle: but like wise in many other places and chéefely against their Lord and King, who could not execute iustice on them, in that they were allyed to the best houses in this Realm. And where may I finde the King you speake off? said the Knight, for I am come to séeke him, to bring him newes from a great fréend of his. Happen what shall, answered Garinter, I will tell ye so much as I knowe: vnderstand then for a trueth, that I am the man you aske for. At these woordes the Knight took of his Helmet, and throwing downe his Shéeld, ran to embrace him: saying that he was the King Perion of Gaule, who of long time had been destrous to know him. Greatly were these Kinges contented, that their méeting was in such fortunate manner, and confer­ring togeather on many matters, they tooke the waye through the Wood toward the Citie, where they thought to finde the Hunters: but suddenly a Hart ranne before them, which with some danger had escaped the toyles: wherfore the Princes gallopped after the Déere, hoping to kill it ere they gaue ouer. But it fell out otherwise, for in the pursuite, as they came into the thickest of the wood, a chafed Lyon ran before them: which in their sight sea­yed on the Hart, and hauing with his strong pawes torn it in péeces, turned againe, when running furiouslye a­gainst the two Princes, he watched his aduauntage as if they had angred him, which the King Perion perceiuing, in laughter saide. You shal not be such a glutton, maister Lyon, but you shall leaue vs parte of the game. And héerwith presently he alighted, because his Horsse would not come néer the beast, so drawing his Swoord, and clas­ping his shéeld on his arme, not regarding y^e cryes of King Garinter, who laboured to disswade him frō the attempt, [Page] he marched to the Lyon, who for defence of his pray, can eagerly against the King, and so betwéene them began a new warre. But the Lyon being quick and nimble, did so much as he got his enemye vnder him, yet was the Kinges hart so good, that albeit he was in verye great perill of his person, he was not abashed one iotte: but turned him selfe in suche sorte, as he thrust his Swoord into the belly of the beast, which at that instant fell downe dead before him. The King séeing what had happened, was so ouercome with meruailing at this deed as he saide within him selfe: In sooth, it is no shame to re­nowne one of the best knightes in the worlde. In this meane while, the rest of the traine came thether, who for to finde their King, had searched long time vp and downe the Forrest. Then was their pray and Uenison laide on two horses, and caryed to the Citie, where the Quéene was immediatly aduertised of King Perions arriuall, and therfore made speedy prouision of all thinges necessarye, to welcome and feaste so great a Prince. At their com­ming they found Dinner ready, and the tables couered: wherfore (after the welcomes and reuerences doon on all sides) the two Kinges sat downe, so did the Quéene, and faire Elisena her Daughter. Now had Loue secretly am­bushed him selfe, because he had long time assayled this yong Princesse, without any power to ouercome her: but now he saw her so vnprouided, as at this instant hower he might touch her to the quicke, and thence for­ward holde a sure conquest of her. The like in King Pe­rion, who thought of nothing but a fréendlye entertaine­ment, yet when he cast his eye on the Lady Elisena, and she in like sorte vpon him: by vertue of this pearring re­garde, her wonted chaste and holye life, had no longer power to priuiledge this Princesie, but she was wonder­fully thralled in extreame loue to this yong King, and he in selfe same manner to her, albeit till that power, he had his hart francke and frée, without subiection in any other [Page 3] place. In this sorte during dinner time, they found them­selues (for each other) in a strange opinion, till the tables were with-drawen, when the Queene would departe to her Chamber, wherfore Elisena arose to followe her: but as she stepped forward, she let fall a King, which she had put in her bosome when she washt her handes, and so had forgot it, by reason of this new loue, that made her think on other matters Now was king Perion some what néer her, and desirous to let her know how willingly he would be hers, stooped downe as soone as she to take it vp, and so right did their handes méete together, as the King had the meane to close her fingers, yet feigning to take vp her King. Wherupon this amourous Lady began to change collour, and (notwithstanding) by a swéet regarde hum­bly thanked him. Ah Madame, quoth he, this shall not be the last seruice I hope to doo you, for my whole life time shalbe imployed to obey you. Constrained was Elisena (without answering him) to followe the Queene her mo­ther, so surprized and altered, as very néere she had for­gotten her selfe: so that not able to endure this new fire of loue (which so sudden and vehemently had conquered her wonted chaste and choice determination:) with the teares in her eyes, and her hart full of anguishe, she went and discouered the same to a faithfull Damsell of hers, named Darioletta, praying her most instantly to councell her, how she might safely know, if King Perion had not else-where placed his loue, and whether the affectionate semblaunce he had showen her, might procéed from force of that impression, which had so lately sea [...]ed on her hart. The Damosell mernailing at this so sudden mutation, and in a person thought so farre from any such matter: taking (neuerthelesse) compassion on her pitteous teares, thus answered. I see well Madame, that according to the extreame passion, wherwith the tirant Loue hath tor­mented ye, hee hath lefte no place in your iudgemente, where counsell or reason may be entertayned: and ther­fore [Page] following not what I ought for your seruice, but the will I haue to obay you, I shall doo what you haue com­maunded me, by the most honest meanes that my little discretion, and the great desire I haue to please ye, will permit me. So without any more woords, Darioletta went to the Chamber where King Perion was, and at the doore she found his Squire, who brought other garmentes for his Lord to weare, which the Damosell tooke of him. For (quoth she) it is necessary that I perfourme this seruice, and you (gentle Squire) maye goe if you please about your other affaires. The Squire thinking it was the custome of the Cuntry, made no deniall, but willinglye suffered her to take the Garments, wherupon she entred the Chamber, where the found the King laide on his bed: who séeing her enter, and knowing wel it was she, whom he had séene to conferre with Elisena most priuatelye and in whom (aboue all other) she put chéefest trust, he thought that she would not come in that sorte to him, without bringing him some remedy for his mortall passions, for which cause, all in trembling, he saide. Faire fréend, what demaund ye? If it may so like you my Lord, quoth she, I haue brought other garments for ye. Much rather would I, saide the King, that you had brought some comfort to my hart, which at this present is left naked and despoy­led of all pleasure. As how my good Lord? answered the Damosell. Thus quoth he. When first I arriued in this Country, I was frée from all passions, and doubled no­thing, but of aduentures that might happen to knightes errant: but now (I know not in what sorte) entring this Courte, by some one of your Ladies, haue I receiued a deadly wound, for which if you (faire Damosell) knowe how to giue me any remedy, your recompence shall be so good, as you shall repute your selfe beholding to me. Cer­tes, quoth she, I should imagine my self happy, by dooing seruice to so high a personage, and so good a Knight as you are, if I could tell wherein. If you will promise me saide [Page 4] the King, as you are a loyall Damosell, not to discouer me but where it is requisite, I shall tell ye. Say hold [...] your pleasure, answered Darioletta, for by me (without your liking, it shall not be knowen to any. Damosell and my fréende, quoth he, I giue ye to vnderstand, that at what time I behelde the excellent beauty of Elisena your Mistresse. I became extreamelye tormented with her loue, and in such sorte, as I cannot excuse my selfe from death if I finde not remedy for my greefe the sooner. Da­rioletta (who knew thorowly the minde of the Princesse) hearing what the King had saide, returned him this an­swere. My Lord, if you will assure me by the faith of a King, which before all other thinges ought to be kept, as a person most bounden to vertue, and as a loyall Knight, who ought (as is saide) to suffer much, for maintenance of right and equitie, that you will take to Wife my Lady Elisena when time shall serue: right soone will I bring ye to the place, where not only your hart shalbe sa­tisfied but hers likewise, who (it may be) is in as much or more thought and dollour, then your are, by reason of the new anguish that toucheth her thorow the selfe same meanes. But if you doo not (my Lord) what I haue said, you shall not there recouer her, nor shall I haue other cause then to thinke, that your woordes procéeded from no loyall hart, nor to credit any thing you say héerafter. The King whom loue had already depriued of liberty, to vnite him selfe with Elisena, (to the end that he might be adorned with the great and gratious fruite, which after­warde happened, as shalbe receited vnto ye), tooke his Swoord, and setting his right hand on the Crosse therof, saide these woordes. I sweare by this crosse, and on this Swoord, wherwith I receiued the order of Knighthood, to doo what you (faire Damosell) shall commaund me, at all times, and whensoeuer your mistresse Elisena shalbe ther­to aduised. Be you then frollicke and merrye, answered Darioletta, for I shall likewise accomplishe what I haue [Page] promised. And at that instant she returned to the Prin­cesse, declaring to her what she had concluded with King Perion, wherwith the amorous Lady was so pleased, as she had vtterly lost her former countenance, and inces­fanty embracing Darioletta, thus demaunded. My déere fréend, when will the hower come, that I shall holde be­twéene mine armes, my Lord whom thou hast giuen me? I shall tell ye answered the Damosell, you know that in the Chamber where King Perion lodgeth, there is a doore on the Garden side, which your Father hath sundrye times vsed for his recreation, and which at this present is couered with the cloth of Arras, but I haue the keye thereof: wherfore at night when euery one is at rest, we may easily there enter vnséene of any, and when néedefull time of returne commeth, my selfe will call ye. When Elisena heard this deuise, she was highly contented ther­with, yet breathing foorth a sighe, she said. Alas my faith­full fréend, how shall we bring this to passe? seeing my fa­ther is determined to lodge with King Perion: and if he perceiue vs, we shalbe both in very great danger. Refer that doubt to me, answered Darioletta, and I shal easilye prouide for this matter: whereupon for this time they brake off conference, because the Tables were couered for Supper. And in like manner as the feasting began in the morning, so now it continued, till the Tables béeing voyded, eche one prepared him selfe to rest. now a little before, Darioletta went to king Perions Squire, and thus saide to him. Gentle Squire and my fréend, I pray ye tel me in good faithe, whether you be a Gentleman or no. Why aske ye? answered the Squire. For the desire I haue, said the Damosell, to know one thing of you, which I intreate ye (by the faith you owe to God and to the King your Maister) not to hide from me. By Saint Ma­ry▪ quoth he, I will tell you what you please to aske, pro­uided, that it be not to the domage of my Lord. Heerin, saide the Damosell will I consent with ye, for I would [Page 5] not demaunde any thing of you that should giue him dis­pleasure, nor were it reasonable that you should acquaint me with any such matter: but I desire to knowe, who is the Lady he loueth most perfectlye. The King my Mai­ster, quoth the Squire, loueth all ingenerall, and I assure ye, that I know no one, to whom he beareth such affec­tion as you speak off.

While they were thus talking, the King Garin­ter came, who séeing Darioletta conferring with king Perions Squire, demaunded what we she had to doo with the Gentleman? In sooth my Lord quoth she, he telles me that the king his Maister is woont to lye alone, and therfore I thinke he loueth not to haue any company. When Ga­rinter vnderstood that, he went presently to king Perion, saying. My noble Brother, there are certaine affaires suddenly be fallen me, and likewise I must rise somewhat early in the morning, which hath made me thinke, that (not to trouble you) the best way is, that I breake com­pany from lodging with ye. My Lord, answered king Perion, doo as shall séem best to your liking. This answer appeared to king Garinter, conformable with that the Damosell had saide, wherfore right soone he commaun­ded his bed to be fetcht frō king Perions Chamber. When Darioletta heard therof she imagmed their affaires would fall out the better, and therfore returned to Elisena, ac­quainting her with all that had passed betwéene the two kinges. In good faith quoth she, I now beléeue, that sée­ing God hath graunted so good a beginning, our enter­prise, which at this present séemeth a great sinne, will héerafter redound to his seruice: but tell me what wee shall doo? for the great ioy which I haue, hath taken from me the most healthfull part of my iudgement. Madame, saide Darioletta, this night will we execute what we haue determined, séeing the doore (wherof you knowe) is cer­tainly open. To my selfe I keepe it, answered Elisena, and to you only I commit the charge, to prouide when the [Page] hower shall permit: and so they remained attending for the fauourable time.

THe time béeing come, when eche one most commonly betake them­selues to rest: Darioletta (who for the contentment of her Mistresse, had vsed extreame dilligence) came and tolde her. Madame, now is the time to finishe our enterprise, then let vs goe if you please. Whē Elisena heard what she saide, you must think she gaue no occasion to be reproued with sloth­fulnes: but hastely arose, and without tarying, casting only a mantle about her shoulders, went forward, and afterward they bothe entred the Garden. The time was then calme and gracious, the Moone faire and splendant, giuing cléere light to the two Ladies: but surely the one had more cause of content then the other, who gladlye would haue tasted this good hap, or such an other for her selfe, if she could any way haue compast the meane, and so much she gaue in outward appearance, as Elisena per­ceiued well, that she wanted but the executour to per­fourme the same: for Darioletta féeling in her spirit, the ease at hand which she should receiue whome she conduc­ted, could not but very pleasantly iest and dally with her Mistresse, breaking many a bitter sigh among, as though she were to participate in Elisenaes future good fortune, to whome she saide. Alas Madame, how happye is the Prince, by whom this night you shall receiue such plea­sure? [Page 6] You say true, answered Elisena, but what? thinke you not that Fortune is as fauourable to me, as to him? for if I be faire, is not he one of the most perfect men that hath béene heard off, either in personage, good grace or hardines? assure thy selfe, Darioletta my fréend, that I imagine my self so happy, sa I thinke it is impossible for me to be more, and therfore let vs make haste I praye thee. These woordes she vttered with such affection, that she trembled like the little leafe on the high tree, and as she ended those spéeches, they arriued at the Chamber doore where king Perion was lodged: who (for y^e strange­nes of this new amorous flame, as also y^e hope he had in Darioletta) had not as yet taken any rest. Neuerthelesse, béeing at this instant wearye with trauaile, and ouer­come with sléepe: began (euen as they opened the doore) to slumber, and dreamed that one entred his Chamber at a false doore, without knowledge who it should be: but he thought that he thrust his handes into his sides, and rent foorth his hart, afterward he saw him throw it into the Riuer, when the King said. Wherefore commit ye such crueltie? This is nothing at all, answered he that did this outrage, for with you shall remaine an other hart, which I must take from ye against my will. In great feare he suddenlye awaked, and making the [...]igne of the Crosse, commended him selfe to God. Now had the Ladies opened the doore and entred the Chamber, wher­fore he hearing the noyse, suspected some treason, especi­ally by reason of his fearefull dreame, and lifting vp his head: behelde thorowe the Curtaynes the doore open wherof he knew nothing, and afterwarde by the light of the Moone, he sawe the shadowe of the Ladyes that were entred. For this cause, in feare he started out of bed, tooke his Swoord, and went to the place where he had seene them: but when Darioletta sawe him so affrighted, she spake to him in this manner. What shal be doone héere? Doo you my Lord draw armes against vs, [Page] that come to you with so slender defence? The king who quickly knew them, especially Elisena whom he so much desired, threw his Swoord to the ground, and casting a mantle about him which lay néere at hand: in great affe­ction he came to her whom he loued better then him selfe, kissing, embracing and shewing y^e best countenance could be deuised, which Darioletta seeing, as one iealous and enuious of such fauour, saide to Elisena, Now are you somewhat better contented, for in my iudgement, al­though till this time you defended your selfe from many, and he likewise hath withstood sundrye assaultes: not­withstanding at this present, neither the one or other of you hath force or meane, which way any longer to war­rant or defend your selues. As thus she spake, she looked where the King had throwen his Swoord, which she tooke vp, as a witnesse of the oathe and promise he made her, concerning the future mariage of Elisena and him selfe: then shutting the doore after her, she went into the Gar­den, and so the King remained alone with his fair fréend, whom (after many amourous embracinges, infinite kiss­inges, and execution of delightes) he behelde, verily per­swading him selfe, that all the beautye of the Worlde was in her, reputing him self much more then happy, that the heauens had allowed him so good an aduenture. Sée now how it chaunced to this Princesse, that for so long time, in the chéefest flower of her youth, being requested by so many mighty Princes and great Lordes, she had withstood all, to remaine in the libertie of a Maiden: now wun in lesse space then one day, and at such time as her fancie (in her owne thinking) was farthest off from such matters.

Thus Loue breaking the strong bandes of her holye and chaste life, caused a sudden alteration of her purpose, making her soone after, of a faire virgen, a faire woman: seruing for example to many other, who assaying to withdrawe their thoughtes from worldly thinges, and [Page 7] despising the great beauty wherwith nature hath endow­ed them, and tender youth, which maketh them ignorant of the pleasures and delightes in their Fathers Courtes' wherof sometime they might haue tasted: yeelde them­selues (for saluation of their soules) into poore and re­ligious houses, therto in all obedience offering their frée will, vowing themselues to the subiection of others, ho­ping to passe their time without any renowne or glory of this world. Certes such Ladies, ought with great sollici­tude to stop their eares, close their eyes, and giue them­selues to continuall deuoute contemplations and pray­ers, accepting them as their true and singuler pastimes, as to such they are: and aboue all, they should exempt them selues from sight of Parents, neighbours & fréends, because that oftentimes the talk and frequenting of such, procureth a change of their holye and chaste will. And not without cause haue I made this little discourse, for it is to the ende that it happen not to them, as it did vnto the faire Princesse Elisena, who so long laboured in thought to preserue her selfe: yet notwithstanding in one only moment, seing the beauty and good grace of King Perion, changed her will in such sorte, as without the aduise and discretion of Darioletta, who would couer the honor of her Mistresse vnder the mantle of mariage: you may sée she was at the point to fall, into the very lowest parte of all dishonor. As it hath happened to many other, of whō hath commonly béen heard speech: who not keeping them­selues from what I haue saide before, haue béene taken bad enough, and taken will be, if they admit no better foresight.

Now then are these two louers in their sollace, Elise­na demaunding of the King, if his departure should be shortlye or no. Wherfore Madame doo you aske? saide King Perion. Because, quoth she, this happy fortune, that with so great delight hath giuen ease to our affectionate desires; dooth threaten me already with extreame an­guish [Page] and sorrow, which by your absence I shall receiue, and feare it will rather cause my sudden death, then long life. Haue no doubt therof saide the King, for although my body be seperated from your presence, my hart for e­uer shall remaine with ye, which shall giue strength to vs bothe, to you to suffer, and to me by my spéedye returne. These two contented louers are thus deuising, when she that had been the cause of their meeting (seeing it was time to call her mistresse, who by this pleasure forget her selfe in her louers armes) entred the Chamber, and spea­king somewhat loude saide. Madame, I know that heer­tofore you thought my company more agréeable then you doo at this present: but it is néedfull that you arise, and let vs goe, for the time calleth vs. When the King heard her, knowing that perforce it must be so, he praied Dario­letta to walke into the Garden, and to bring him woord in what corner the winde sat: in meane while he tooke his amourous conge, w^t such reciprocall pleasure, as you that loue may easily iudge, then swéetly kissing her, he saide. I assure you Madame, that for your sake I will stay lon­ger in this Cuntry then you imagine, therfore I pray ye be not unmindefull of this place. So arose. Elisena, and went vnto her Chamber with Darioletta, leauing y^e King alone, not a little contended with his new acquaintance: but dreading his dreame, as you haue heard, and willing to know what it might signify, he becāe desirous to return to his owne Countrey, where as then were good store of Philosophers, that were well seene in those Sciences: him self likewise in former times took great pleasure ther­in, and vnderstood sundry rules therof. Neuerthelesse, he soiourned ten dayes with King Garinter, after his spor­ting with Elisena, who neuer a night failed to visit her louely haunte. The ten dayes béeing spent, King Perion (forcing his will and notwithstanding the teares and in­treaties of Elisena which were excessiue) resolued to de­parte, and therefore tooke his leaue of the Courte: but as [Page 8] he would haue mounted on horseback▪ he perceiued that he wanted his good Swoord, wherat he became somewhat offended, because it was one of the best, and fayrest in the world, yet durst he not demaund it, fearing least the loue of him and Elisena shoulde thereby be discouered, or King Garinter angry with them that visited his chamber, In these thoughtes, accompanied with infinite regrets, without longer stay, he tooke his way toward Gaule: al­beit before his departure, Darioletta came and intreated him, to be mindefull of the great gréefe wherein he left his Elisena, and of the sollemne promise he had made her. Alas my déere freend, saide the King, I pray ye to assure her on my parte, that she shall haue no cause of offence, and that right soone I meane to fée her, in meane while, I commend her to you as mine own proper hart. Then ta­king from his finger a King, semblable to an other that he had, he sent it to the desolate louer, intreating her ear­nestly (for his sake) to giue it her. This present did no whit lessen her great gréefe, but encrease it, so that if she had not béene comforted by Darioletta, without doubte she had then finished her dayes: but so wel she perswaded her to take good hope, that by the allegations she laid be­fore her of dangerous occurrences, she came somewhat better to her selfe, and learned thence forward more smoothely to dissemble her sorrowe, till she felte her selfe great with Childe, by meanes wherof, she not onlye lost the taste of her food, but also the pleasure of rest, and the faire cullour of her countenance.

Now on the highest step of mishap was her sorrow set, and not without cause, for in that time was there an in­uiolable law, y^t any woman or maiden, of what quality or estate soeuer, offending in such sorte, could no way excuse her self from death. This sharpe & cruell custome, endured till the comming of the vertuous King Arthur, the best Prince that euer raigned in that country: which he reuo­ked at the time, as he killed Floian in battaile before the [Page] Gates of Paris. But many other Kinges were betwéene him and Garinter, who maintained that lawe, and for this cause the sorrowfull Lady coulde not be absolued by ignoraunce therof: albeit that by the oathes and promi­ses of King Perion on his Swoord, God would remit the offence, yet knew she not how to excuse her faulte to the world, because it was doon so secretly as you haue heard. Sée héere the distresse wherin King Perion left his Elisena, which gladly she would giue him to vnderstand if possible she could: but it might not be, for she knew the prompti­tude of this yong King, that tooke no rest in any place where he came, nor was his hart satisfied, except in this, with following armes, as also séeking strange and ha­zardous aduentures, and therfore he was the harder to be found, Thus dispayring of this succour, she thought there was no remedy for her life, for which she made not so much mone, as the losse of the sight of her true fréend and only Lord. But at that instant the great and puissāt maker of all thinges, by whose permission this act was appointed to his seruice, inspired Darioletta with such counsell, as she only should remedie these occurrences, in such sort as you shall presently vnderstand.

In the Pallace of King Garinter, there was a Cham­ber vaulte seperated from the rest, neere to which was a riuer, wherto one might easilye discend by a little Iron doore, this Chamber (by the aduise of Darioletta) did Eli­sena request of her father, as well for her ease, as to conti­nue her accustomed solitarye life, and would haue none other companion thē Darioletta, who (as you haue heard) knew the occasion of her dollorous gréefes. This request she lightly obtained, the King thinking his daughters in­tent to be as she feigned, and heeruppon was the Keye of the Iron doore giuen to Darioletta, to open when it plea­sed Elisena to recreate her selfe on the water. By this meane had she a place proper to her affaires, and so was in better rest and assurance then before: for well was she [Page 9] aduised, that in this place more commodiously then any o­ther, might she prouide to escape without danger. Wherfore béeing there one day alone with her Damosell, they fell in conference, and she required councell, what should be doone with the fruite that she trauailed withall, What? answe­red Darioletta: mary it must suffer to redéeme you. Ah poore maidenly mother, saide Elisena, how can I consent to the death of the creature, begotten by the only man of the world whom most I loue? Offend not your selfe, quoth Darioletta, for if you should dye, hardly would it be permitted after you to liue, In sooth, said Elisena, although I dye béeing cul­pable, it were no reason the little innocent should suffer. Leaue wee this talke, answered Darioletta, seeing it were great follye to hazard the safetie of that, which héer­after may be the onlye cause of your losse, and your freend likewise: for well you know, that if you be discouered, you shall dye, and the infant shall not liue, and you dying, no longer can he liue y^t so deerely loueth you So shall you alone cause the death of al thrée, where contrarywise, if you escape the perill, the time will come, when you may haue together children enow, which will make you forget the affection you bare to this first. And as this Damosell was thus inspired, so would she before hand séeke to preuent the inconuenience, in this manner. She got foure little boords, of such largenes as was necessary, to make a Chest wherin to put the infant, with the clothes & the swoord which she kept, then did she glue thē together in such sorte, as y^e water should haue no place to enter. This beeing doon and made fit, she put it vnder the bed, without declaring any thing therof to Elisena, vntil the time of Childe-birthe approched, and then Darioletta saide. What thinke ye Madame this little Cofer is made for? In good faith I know not, quoth she. This shalbe to serue vs, saide the Damosell, when we haue neede. Beleeue me answered Elisena wéeping, but little doo I care for any thing that may happen, for I féele my selfe too néere the losse of my good, and all my ioy. Uery soone after, the Princesse felt the anguish of trauaile, which was to her very strange and troublesome, [Page] oppressing her hart with sundrye bitter passions: yet not­withstanding all her yrk some plundges, poore soule she durst not but be silent, greatlye fearing least she should be heard. Her agonies thus redoubling, the most mighty (without dan­ger of her person) gaue her in deliueraunce a faire Sonne, which the Damosell receiued, and as she held it, it séemed to her of wonderfull feature, and happy would she haue repu­ted him, had he not beene borne to hard fortune, where-to Darioletta was constrained to send him, for the redemption of the sorrowfull mother, and therfore she deferred it not. But euen as before was concluded, she wrapped the infant in riche clothes, and afterward brought it with the Cofer to Elisena: which when the good Lady sawe, she demaunded what she would doo therwith. Madame, quoth she, héerein shall your little Sonne be put, then will I send it foorth on the water, and if it please God, he may escape and liue. Alas my swéete infant, saide Elisena how full of danger is thy de­stini [...]? In meane while, Darioletta tooke incke and parche­ment, and writ therin these woords, This is Amadis without time, Sonne to a King: by these woordes without time, she meant, that she thought his death to be néere at hand, and the name of Amadis was of great reuerence in that Coun­try, because of a Sainte there so called, to whom this little infant was recommended. The letter béeing written and sealed, was couered and wrapped in waxe, and then with a little golden Chayne fastened about the Childes necke, with the Ring that King Perion sent Elisena at his departure. Eache thing thus appointed, Darioletta came to the wofull mother, and in her sight put the Childe into the Chest, lay­ing by him the King his Fathers Swoord, which he threw on the ground the first night he came to Elisena, and this the cause wherfore the Damosell had so well kept it: then after the Mother had kist her Sonne as her last farwell, the Co­fer was made fast very arteficiallye, and Darioletta opening the yron doore, commending the babe to the heauenlye pro­tection, she set it on the Water, the course wherof béeing very spéedy, full soone caried the Cofer into the Sea, which [Page 10] was lesse then halfe a mile from the place.

Now began the break of day to appéere, and the little in­fant followed his fortune, now throwne héere, then there, according as the boystrous waues pleased: but by the will of the highest, who (when he pleaseth) makes impossibilities easie, caused it so to fall out, that at the same time as this was doone, a Scottishe Ship sayled on the Sea, wherin was a Gentleman named Gandales, who from little Brittaine sai­led with his wife into Scotland, she hauing béene lately deli­uered of a Sonne called Gandalin. The morning was both calme and cléere, wherfore Gandales might easilye perceiue the Chest floting on the waues, which he presently sent out for, thinking it to be [...]ome matter of great value: then the Mariners casting foorth a Skiffe, made toward the Cofer and tooke it vp: when they had brought it to Gandales, he got opē the couer, and beholding y^e goodly Infant within, as also the rich clothes wherin it was wrapped, he suspected that it came from no meane place, as he gathered by the King and the good Swoord. So taking it in his armes, he was filled with such compassion, as he began to cursse the mother ther­of, who through feare had forsaken so cruellye such a beauti­full creature: and carefully did he cause all things to be kept which he found in the Cofer, desiring his Wife, that this in­fant might be nourished as his own Sonne. She was heere­with very wel contented, & so the two children were equally fostered together, for neuer had young Amadis suckte the teat, but to soone as it was giuen him by his new Nursse, he made no refusall therof, but beeing very thirstie sucked harte­ly, wherat Gandales and his wife were excéeding glad. Now had they the time so fauourable, as shortlye they landed in Scotland, néere to a Citie named Antailia, and soone after they came to their owne Country, where little Gandalin, and the Childe found in y^e sea were nourished together. And be­cause Gandales forbad his seruāts to vse any speech of his good hap, requesting the like of the Mariners, to whom y^e ship be­longed, and were to saile els where: the two children were estéemed bretheren by such as were ignorāt of their fortune.

KIng Perion being on his way toward Gaule, as already hath béene recited, entred into marueilous melancholly, as well for the gréefe wherein he had left his Elisena, to whome in his hart he wished well: as also for his doubt­full dreame, beeing in such sort as you haue heard. So long rode he in this heauines, til he ariued in his country, and soone after he sent for all his great Lordes, as also the Prelates of his Realme, giuing them expresse charge, to bring with them the most learned Clarkes in their Coun­tryes, and this he did, to the ende they might expounde his Dreame. When his vassailes had made knowen his will, not only those he sent for, but many other came to the court, shewing the desire they had to sée him, and their readines to obey his commaund: for they did so loue and reuerence him, as oftentimes (béeing fearefull to loose him) they were for him in very great greefe and sorrow, thinking on the dange­rous perilles, that in chiualrie (to win honor) he hazarded him selfe, so that they would more gladly haue had him day­ly with them, which could not be, because his hart was dis­contented, till by armes he had brought the greatest aduen­tures to end:

The Lordes and Princes thus assembled, the King con­ferred with them on the estate and affaires of the Realme, but it was with so sad countenaunce as could be: for the oc­casion of his Dreame made him so pensiue, as his Subiectes (being abashed therat) were in meruailous doubtes, not­withstanding, after he had giuen them to vnderstand his [Page 11] will, and appointed all requisite matters in order, he gaue them leaue to departe, sending eche one home ag [...] to his house, only staying with him thrée Astrologers [...]e [...]ted the most skilfull in those actions, and therfore he made choyce of them. These men he called into his Chappell, there causing them sollemnely to sweare and promise, that without [...]e of any thing, how daungerous soeuer it were, they should in­terprete to their vttermoste, and truelye expresse what he would declare to them, wherupon he told them his dreame, as hath béen aleady before rehearsed: then one of them be­ing named Vngan the Piccard, the most experte of them all, thus answered. My Lord, dreames are vaine thinges, and for such ought to be estéemed: notwithstanding, seeing it is your pleasure that some account should be made of yours, giue vs some time to consider theron. It liketh me wel, said the King, within twelue daies looke that you make me an­swere. But to the ende they should not disguise or conceale the trueth from him, he caused them to be seperated, so that during the time agréed vpon, they might neither sée or speak together: wherfore to their vttermoste they trauailed in what they had promised the King, so that the daye beeing come, when they should render an account of their labour, he first tooke Albert of Champaigne aside, and said to him. Thou knowest how thou hast sworne and promised, to tell me what thou hast found by thy skil. Sir, answered Albert, let then the rest be called into your presence, for before them will I tell ye. Well hast thou aduised, said the King: wher­upon they were sent for, afterward Alberte thus began. My opinion is, my Lord, that the closed Chamber, and him whome you sawe enter by the secret doore, signifieth this Realme which is close and well garded: notwithstanding by some right therto, some one shall come to take it from you. And like as he thrust his handes into your sides, ren­ting from thence your hart, and afterwarde threwe it into the Riuer: euen so shall your Townes and Castles bothe more and lesse, be priuily stolen from you, and put into his hand from whome you shall not easilye recouer them. And [Page] what meaneth the other hart, said the King, which I drea­med should remain with me, and yet he saide, that some af­ter I should loose it, against the will of him that tooke the first from me? It seemeth by this, answered Albert, that some other shall inuade your Country as the first did, yet constrained more by force of an other that commaunded him to doo so, then by any will therto in him selfe: thus sée ye (my Lord) all that I can tell ye. Now, saide the King to the second named Antalles tell vs your aduise. Me thinkes Sir, quoth he, that Albert hath very well saide, and I am of his opinion, except in this, (for ought I can learne, & as the cause sheweth me) y^t what he saith shall happen, is alrea­dy effected, and by the person that most loueth ye: notwith­standing I am greatly amazed therat, séeing there is not as yet any parte of your Realme lost, and if you doo loose any thing héerafter, it must be by such an one as loueth ye déere­ly. When the King heard this, he nodded his head, for it sée­med to him, that he came néere the marke: but Vngan the Piccard, who knew much more then the other, fell into a laughter, which he was sildome wunt to doo, because he was a man very sad and mellancholly, yet (by chaunce) the King perceiued it, wherfore he saide. Maister Vngan my fréend, now remaineth none but you, say boldely what you haue gathered. My Lord, quoth he, peraduenture I haue seene into thinges, which is not necessarye to be knowen to any other then your selfe, and therfore let these giue place a while if you please. At these woordes they withdrewe them selues, leauing the King and Vngan alone, who thus spake.

If your Maiesty sawe me ere while to laughe, it was at one woord which little you thinke on, yet it is true, and will yee knowe what? It was that which Antalles saide, that what he found by your dreame was already happened, and by the person that bes [...]e loueth yee: Nowe shall I re­u [...]ale what you keepe in secret, and thinke that no one knowes but your selfe. You loue (my Lord) in such a place, where you haue alreadye accomplished your will, and she whom you loue is surpassing faire, then tolde he all the gests [Page 12] and fashions of her, as if she had béene there present. But as for the Chamber you found shut, you know (Sir) full well what if meaneth, and how she whom you loue, desirous to deliuer her hart and yours from gréefe and sadnes: came to ye, entring your chamber by the doore that was hid from you. The handes that opened your sides, is the coniunction of you twaine: then the hart taken from ye, sheweth that she hath by you a Sonne or a Daughter. Now tell me saide the King, what meneth y^t casting therof into the Riuer? My Lord, quoth he, that nothing concerneth you, therfore ne­uer labour for further knowledge therof. Yet would I, saide the King, faine vnderstand it, and therfore feare not to tell me for any harme that may happen. Seeing you will needes haue it, answered Vngan, I beseeche ye Sir assure me while you liue, for any thing that I shall reueale, you will not be displeased with her who loueth you so loyallye. That pro­mise doo I faithfully make thée, saide the King. In good sooth Sir, quoth Vngan, that hart that you saw throwen into the water, is the first infant she shall haue by you, who must of necessitie be forsaken. And the other, saide the King, that shall remaine with me, what meaneth that? You may, an­swered Vngan, vnderstand by the one, the desseigne of the other, which is, that she shall conceiue an other childe, who shalbe caryed awaye againste the will of her, that caused the losse of the firste. Thou hast tolde me strange thinges, said the King, and would God the mis-fortune of my Chil­dren were not so true, as what thou hast tolde me concer­ning the Lady I loue. For thinges ordeyned and appointed by the highest, answered Vngan, none knoweth how to gain-say or remedy, and therfore men of wisdom should nei­ther be sad or reioyce at them, because oftentimes the Lord disposeth matters beyond the capacitie of men, and farre otherwise then they expect. For this cause my Lord, forget­ting all that I haue said, and which you haue béene so curi­ous to vnderdstand: referre all thinges to God, desiring him in these your affaires and all other, to limit the ende of them to his honor and glory, and thus (in mine opinion) you [Page] ought to set downe your rest. The King was highly conten­ted with Vngan, and so estéemed of him, that from thence forward he had him néere his person, by meanes wherof he receiued many great fauours. Now it happened, that at that instant as the King parted from the Philosophers, a Damosell presented her selfe before him, right costlye in garmentes and faire of beauty, thus speaking. Vnderstand King Perion, that when thou recouerest thy losse, the King­dome of Ireland shall loose her flower. So giuing her Pal­fray the bridle, and the King not able to stay her, she rode away: these woordes made the good Prince more sad and pensiue then he was before.

For this time the Author leaueth this purpose, and re­turneth to speake of the infant, that Gandales caused to be nourished, whome he made be called the Gentleman of the Sea, Now was he curiously entertained, wherfore in short time he grew and became so faire, that all which beheld him meruailed therat, but one daye among other it happened, that Gandales rode to sporte him selfe in the féeldes, arming him selfe as became a good Knight: for he had dayly accom­panied the King Languines, at such time as he searched after aduentures, and albeit the King discontinued Armes, yet Gandales would oftentimes exercise him selfe, and as he rode, he met with a Damosell that thus spake to him. Ah Gandales, if many great personages were aduertised of what I knowe certainely, I assure thee they would cause thée to loose thy head. Wherfore? quoth he. Because, saide the Da­mosell, thou nourishest their death in thy house. The knight know not the Woman that thus talked with him, but you must vnderstand, how she was the same that saide to King Perion, that when he recouered his losse, the Kingdome of Ireland should loose her flower, yet notwithstanding he was farre from y^t matter, because he knew not wherof she spake, and therfore thus replyed. For Gods sake (damosell) I pray ye tell me, on what occasion you vse these spéeches. Beleeue me Gandales, quoth she, I haue told thée nothing but trueth. At these woordes she departed from him, leauing him very [Page 13] sad & pensiue: yet long he did not continue in these thoughts but he saw her returne againe, in great haste, thus crying and calling. Ah Gand [...]l [...]s, for Gods sake succour me: then Gandales turning about beheld a Knight follow her with his Swoord drawen, wherfore he gaue his horsse the spurres to meete him, and placed him selfe for defence of the Damosell, then comming to him y^t pursued her, he said. Stay thou bad aduised Knight. what moueth thee thus trecherously to out­rage Ladyes? What now? answered y^t other, doost thou hope to saue her, who by trumpery hath made me loose both bodye and soule? That meddle not I withall, saide Gandales, but I will defende her to my power, well knewing that Ladyes ought not to be corrected in this manner, albeit they did de­serue it, We shall presently see that answered the Knight: and so gallopped to y^e place from whence he came, which was a little thicket of trees, where stayed a very beautifull Lady, who when she saw him returne, came foorth, bringing him a Shéelde and a strong Launce, which he tooke and without longer tariaunce, returned to his enemye, Gandales being a stearne Knight, would not refuse him: wherupon they met together in such sorte as their Launces were broken on their Sheeldes, and they with their Horses cast to the ground, yet quickly did they recouer footing when began betweene them a meruailous combate, which woorsse would haue beene, but that she which desired succour of Gandales, stepped betweene them, saying. Stay Gentlemen fight no more. At these woordes, the Knight who before pursued her, went backe, then saide the Damosell to him. Come now and aske par­don of me. Most willingly, answered y^e Knight, thē throwing his Swoord and Shéeld down, came and humbled him self on both his knees befo [...]e her, wherat Gandales was greatly amazed, afterward the Damosel said to y^e knight. Goe commaund the Lady vnder the trees, that she get her away immediatly, vnlesse tho [...] halt take her head from her shoulders. To this charge the Knight yeelded him selfe obedient, and to her whō he loued more then him selfe (by sudden change from loue to hatred) became and angerly saide. Traiterous woman, I [Page] know not how I shall defend my selfe from killing thée pre­sently. Well perceiued the poore Lady, that her fréend was enchaunted, and that contestation would nothing at all profit her: wherfore incontinent she mounted on her Pal­fray, and rode away, making the most gréeuous sorrow that euer was heard, and there remained she whom Gandales had defended, speaking to him in this manner. You haue (Sir) doone so much for me, as I shall be beholding to you while I liue, and now you may departe at your pleasure: for if the Knight offended me, I haue pardoned him w^t all my hart. As touching your pardon, answered Gandales, I haue nothing to doo therwith: for my selfe, I will end the Combate, or he shall holde him selfe vanquished. It behooueth that you ac­quite him, saide the Damosell, séeing that if you were the best Knight in the world, easily can I make him ouercome ye. Doo therin what you can, replyed Gandales, but I will not acquite him, except you firste declare to me, wherfore (euen now) you saide, that I kept the death of many peo­ple in my house. Then will I rather tell ye, quoth she, be­cause I loue you both: he as mine own Soule, & you as my defender, albeit constraint cannot make me doo it: so taking him aside, she saide. You shall sweare to me as a loyall Knight, that no other shall know it by you, vntill such time as I commaund it: heereof he made her faithfull promise. Know then, saide the Damosell, that he whom you found in the Sea, shall one day be the flower of chiualrie, and shall cause the very strongest to stoope, he shall enterprise, and with honor finishe what other shall faile off: and such déeds of armes shall he doo, as no one thinkes can be begun or en­ded by the strength of one man. The proud shall he make humble and gracious, being cruell to the pittilesse, as also benigne and amiable to the debonaire: this Knight most loyally will maintaine loue, and shall affect in place answe­rable to his magnanimitie. Moreouer, I assure thée Ganda­les, that he is the Sonne of a King, and (without doubt) all this will happen which I haue told thée: but if thou kéep it not secret, it maye returne thée more harme then good, [Page 14] Madame, answered Gandales, I praye yee tell me where I may meete with you heerafter, to conferre with you on the affaires of this infant. That must you not knowe by me, saide the Damosell, or any other. Yet tell me your name, quoth Gandales, if so it be your pleasure. By the faith you beare to the thing you most loue in the world, replyed she, you coniure me so, as you shall knowe it: albeit the thing that moste I loue, is he that wisheth me least good, and would you know what he is: it is the Knight against whom ere while you combated: notwithstanding, I will not leaue to intreat him at my pleasure, without he being able to re­medy him selfe. My name is Vrganda the vnknowne: and to the end you may remember me an other time, beholde me well at this present. At that instant, she who shewed her selfe to Gandales faire, yong and fresh, as one of eightéene yéeres, became so olde and ouer spent, as he meruailed how she could sit on her horsse, if then he was stricken into admi­ration, you may iudge. But when she had beene a prettie while in that state, she tooke out of a little bottell (which she caryed) a certaine vnguent, wherwith she rubbed her face, and right soone recouered her former countenaunce, saying to Gandales. What iudge ye now Sir? thinke ye to finde me heerafter against my will, vsing all the dilligence you can de­uise? neuer therfore put your self to such paine: for when all liuing creatures goe about it, if I list, they shall loose their labour. In good faith Madame, answered Gandales, I now make no doubt therof, yet I beséeche ye to be mindefull of the Gentleman, who is forsaken of all but my selfe. Doo not you trouble your selfe therewith, saide Vrganda, this forsaking will be a recouering of much more. My loue to him is grea­ter then you can imagine, being she that shortly intendes to receiue by him two aydes, which no other can giue me. In recompence wherof, I will giue him two likewise, wher­with he shall thinke him self highly satisfied. Let this suffise ye for this time, because of necessitie I must be gon: adui­sing ye, that you shall see me againe sooner then you thinke for. At these woordes the Damosell departed, and Gandales. [Page] who had not all this while regarded the Knight against whome hee fought, seeing him now bare headed, reputed him one of the goodlyest Gentlemen that euer he had seene: who after he had taken vp his Sheeld, and laced on his hel­met, followed the Damosell, wherfore for this time we will let them goe, continuing what happened to Gandales.

Vrganda being departed, he returned toward his Castel, méeting by the waye with the Ladye, whome Vrganda had caused to be rhased from her fréend, and this sorrowful [...] woman was hard by a Fountaine, where she wept and la­mented very bitterly: when she espied him that came to­ward her, she easily knew him, wherfore she thus spake. Is it possible, Sir Knight, that the wicked creature whom you succoured, hath doon so much as to let you liue? Wicked she is not, answered Gandales, but wise and vertuous: and if you be otherwise, I will make ye deny these foolish woords. Ah God, saide the Lady: how can the villaine deceiue euery one? How hath she deceiued you? replied Gandales. Alas, quoth the Lady, she hath taken from me y^e faire Knight that should be mine: and so may I wel say, seeing he woulde bee more content to be with me, then with her. This is meere folly, answered Gandales, for in mine opinion, both you and she do loue without reason. Howe euer it be, said the Lady, if I can I will be auenged. You trauaile in vaine, quoth he, thinking to iniurie her that knowes it, not onely before you execute it but when you imagine it. In sooth answered the Lady, this afternoone ye may be gone when you please: and neuertheles it often happeneth, that those which thinke they know most by presumption, fall into the greatest dan­gers. Gandales seeing her so impacient, commending her to God, followed his waie, thinking more of the young Gen­tlemans affaires, then what the Ladie had spoken to him. Beeing come to his Castell, and seeing the little boy come running towards him, he tooke him vp in his armes, and lo­uingly embracing him, remembred what Vrganda had saide to him, which made the teares stand in his eyes with ioy, saying within him selfe. Faire Childe, I pray God I maye [Page 15] liue so long, as to sée thée such a one as I hope for. At this time the young Prince was about thrée yeeres olde, who seeing his Lord weepe, (as one mooued with compassion) [...] wiped his eyes, which made Gandales imagine great h [...]ma­nity in him: and y^t as the childe grewe in age and strength, [...] ­wered he in will, the better to helpe him if he had [...]. Wherfore thence forward, he was very carefull of him, [...] ­uising all meanes for his best education and compaying con­tinually with his play-fellowe Gandalin, he tooke very great delight in Shooting,

He béeing come to the age of sixe yéeres, King La [...]guines and his Queene riding through the Countrey, came to Gan­dales Castell, where they were royallye feasted: but before they there ariued, Gandales being aduertised of their com­ming, caused the yong Prince and his companions to be hid in a backe Chamber, fearing that in respecte of his beautye and good grace, the King would be desirous to take him a­way with him, or else that the Children would be trouble­some to the house. But it fortuned, that the Quéene beeing lodged in one of the highest roomes in the Castell, as she loo­ked foorth at a windowe, which was on that side where the Children were, she espied the yong Prince and his play-fel­lowes drawing their bowes, and marking him verye well, she liked him aboue all the other, taking great plesure to be­holde his countenance, thinking he was Sonne to the Lord of the house: yet beeing doubtfull, and not seeing anye of whome she might aske the question, she thus called to her Ladyes. Come and beholde the fairest young creature that euer was séene. At these woordes they all came running, and soone after, the childe being drye, left his bow by his compa­nyons, going to drinke at a conduit pipe which was hard by: in meane while, one of them that was bigger then y^e Prince, tooke vp his bowe to draw it, but Gandalin would not suffer him, wherupon a great strife fell betwéene them, and Gan­dalin being the weakest, cryed out: Gentleman of the Sea, come helpe me. When the Prince heard him, he lefte his draught, and ran to him that misused his brother, taking his [Page] vow frō him, giuing him therwith a great strok ouer y^e head, saying: In all euill hower (varlet) doost thou outrage my brother The other not content therwith, came to y^e Prince, and they fought together: yet he that began the noyse was glad to run thence, and by the way met their Gouernour, who saide: Whether runnest thou? Maister, quoth he, the Gentleman of the Sea will beate me: then the Gouernour comming to the Prince, rigourously threatned him, saying. What? are you already so bolde to beate your companions? you shalbe talked withall by and by for it. When y^e Prince heard his threatning, he fell downe on his knées, saying. If you will appoint that I shall be beaten, more gladlye will I take it, then suffer my brother to be wronged in my presence. With these woordes the teares trickled downe his chéekes, which mooued pitie in the Gouernour, wherfore he thus an­swered. If euer you doo so againe, I will make ye wéepe in an other sorte. The Quéene who had heard and séene all the debate, was greatly abashed wherfore they called the little boy, the Gentleman of the Sea.

WHile the Quéen thus beheld the Gen­tleman of the Sea, the King entred her Chamber accompanied with Gan­dales, of whom she presently demaun­ded if that faire young Sonne were his. Ye Madame answered Gandales. And (quoth she) why suffer you him to be called the Gentleman of the Sea? Because Madame, said he, that at re­turne of my last voyage into little Brittayne, he was borne vpon the sea Truely quoth she, he resembles you but little: and this was her opinion, because the Prince was excellent [Page 16] faire, & Gandales somewhat hard fauoured, yet a most gentle companion. It chaunced during these speeches, that y^e King cast his eye on the little Prince, to whom he séemed no lesse beautifull then he did to the Queene, wherfore he commaun­ded Gandales to fetch him: for when I goe hence (quoth he) I will take him with me, and haue him brought vp with mine owne Sonne. In sooth my Lord, answered Gandales, he is yet too young to leaue his Mother: but hauing brought him, presented him to the King, who saide, Faire Childe, will ye goe with me to the Court? My Lord, answered the Childe, I will goe whether you please, if my brother shall goe with me. And I, quoth Gandalin, will not tarye héere without him. I perceiue my Lord, said Gandales, that if you take the one, you must néedes haue the other, for they will not be seperated. I am the better pleased, answered the King: then calling Agraies to him saide. My Sonne, I will that you loue these two Gentlemen, as I doo their Father. When Gandales saw, that the King would haue them away in good earnest, with the teares in his eyes, he thus spake in his hart. My Childe, that so soone beginnest to proue For­tune, now sée I thee in the seruice of them, who one day may (happily) serue thée, if it please God to guide and protect thee, as I shall humbly pray for, and suffer that the woords of Vrganda the vnknowen spoken to me, may proue true: making me so happy, as to liue to sée the time, of those great meruailes promised thée in Armes. The King who noted Gandales, séeing that his eyes were filled with teares, came to comfort him, saying. Beléeue me, I neuer thought you had béene such a foole, as to wéepe for a Childe. Ah my Lord, answered Gandales, it may be vpon greater occasion then you think for, and if it please ye to know the trueth, I will presently tell ye héere before your Quéene. So he tolde the whole discourse, how he found the Gentleman of the Sea and in what equipage: and he had procéeded with that which Vrganda foretolde him, but that he remembred the oathe he tooke. Now my Lord saide Gandales, deale for him as you shall please, for (so God helpe me) according to his begin­ning, [Page] I thinke him to be issued of great linage, When the King heard this he estéemed much the better of him, that he had so carefully nourished the childe he found, and thus an­swered. It is great reason (seeing God hath doone so much for him, as to preserue him from so great a dāger) that now we be diligent in his education, and endowe him with habi­lities when time shall serue. In good faith my Lord, said the Quéene, so please you, hee shall be mine during his young yéeres and when he comes to mans estate, I will deliuer him to serue you. Well Madame, quoth the King, I giue him you. Now early on y^e next morning the King would set forward, wherfore the Queene, not hauing forgot the gift of her Lord, tooke with her Gandalin and the young Gentle­man of the Sea, whom she commaunded to be so carefully at­tended as her owne Sonne, for she tooke such pleasure in be­holding him, that dayly she would haue him neere her owne person, because he had such a chéerefull spirit, and so well go­uerned withall, as he was well liked of euery one, so that whatsoeuer he did, passed with generall allowance, and no other pastime had he, but in shooting and cherishing dogges for the chase.

Now dooth the Authour leaue this matter, returning to that which happened to King Perion, and his newe freende Elisena. King Perion (as you haue already heard) beeing in Gaule, where he vnderstood by his Philosophers the expositi­on of his Dreame as also what the Damosell had told him: That when he recouered his loste, the Kingdome of Ireland should lose her flower: he became more pensiue then before, yet could he vnderstand, nothing therof. As he thus sadlye spent his dayes, it chaunced that an other Damosell entred his Pallace, who brought him a letter from Elisena whereby she gaue him to knowe, that King Garinter her father was dead, and she remained alone, and for this cause he should pittie her, in that the King of Scottes would take her King­dome from her. For the death of King Garanter was Perion somewhat sorrowful, but yet he comforted himself, by thin­king he should goe to see his freend, towards whome he had [Page 17] not diminished one iotte of his affection, wherfore he quickly dispatched the Damosell, saying to her. Returne and say to your mistresse, that without staying one whole day, I shalbe in short time with her. The Damosell wel pleased with this answere, returned, and after the King had set his affaires in order, he parted in good equipage to see his Elisena, and iournied so spéedily, as he ariued in little Brittayne: where he heard newes, that King Languines had alreadye gotten all the chéefe of the Country, except those Citties which Garin­ter gaue to Elisena, who now abode (as he vnderstood) at a place named Arcate, whether he addressed him selfe. If he were there well receiued, I leaue to your iudgementes, and she likewise of him whom she loued so much. After the wel­comming and feasting of one an other, the King tolde her that he would now marry her, and for that cause she aduer­tised her kinred and Subiectes: which she did with all dilli­gence coulde be deuised, as also with so great contentation as her hart might desire, for héerin onlye consisted the summe of her affections. Which being heard by the King of Scottes, and how to accomplishe this, King Perion was already ari­ued with his Sister: he sent immediatlye for all the noble men of his Realme, to beare him company in dooing honor and welcome to the King his brother. At his comming, he was graciously receiued by King Perion, and after by embrac [...]uis they hadsaluted eche other, and the nuptialles like­wise thorowlye ended: the Kinges determined to returne home into their owne Countryes.

King Perion trauayling toward Gaule with his Quéene Elisena, and somewhat weary with tediousnesse of the way, he would refresh him selfe along by a Riuer side: and while the tentes were erecting, he rode softlye alone by the water bancke, imagining how hee might knowe the trueth, whe­ther Elisena had a Childe, according as his Philosopher told him in expounding his Dreame. But so long continued he in this thought, that riding on without anye regarde, he came to an Hermitage which was néere at hand: wherfore finding him selfe at a place of deuotion, he alighted, tying [Page] his Horsse to a trée, that he might goe in to say his prayers. And entring the Church, he found there a very auncient re­ligious man, who comming to méete him, saide, Knight, is it true, that King Perion is maryed to our Kinges daughter? Yea verily, answered the King, Praised be God, saide the good Hermite, for I knowe certainlye, that she loueth him with all her hart. How can you tell that? replyed the King. Euen from her owne mouth, saide the good olde man. The King then hoping he shoulde heare of him the thing which he moste desired to knowe, said. I praye ye Father tell me, what you haue vnderstood of her and me, for I am King Pe­rion. Truely Sir, answered the wise man, héerein should I greatly faulte, and iustly might she repute me an heretique, if I should manifest what she hath told me vnder confession: suffise your selfe with that I haue declared, namely, the true and sincere loue she beareth you. But séeing I haue met ye in a place so conuenient, I will that ye knowe, what a Da­mosell (in mine opinion very wise,) saide to me at the time you came firste into this Countrey: yet spake she to me so darkelye, as I neuer knewe well how to comprehend her woordes, for she saide. That from little Brittaine should come two great Dragons, that should holde their gouernement in Gaule, and their hartes in great Brittaine, and from thence they should goe to deuoure the beastes of other Countries: but against some they should be braue and cruell, and against o­ther some humble and gracious, as though they had neither nayles or hart. At these woordes I became very pensiue, nor could I euer since learne the signification heereof. Nor did the King at this instant vnderstand them, but was in no lesse meruaile then the Hermite: notwithstanding, no long time after, he found this prophesie to be true. Now the King hauing commended the holye man to God, returned to his Tentes, where he saluted his Quéene, yet would he not tell her (as then) any thing of that wherewith his minde was troubled: but dissembled the same till they were in bed, and after their accustomed embracinges, the King by an apte meane recounted to her, what his Astrologers had saide on [Page 18] his dreame, earnestlye desiring her to tell him, whether she had any Childe by him or no. When the good Ladye heard this, she was surprised with shame in such sort, as willingly she could haue wished her self dead: and therfore altogether denyed the trueth, so that at this time the King might not knowe what hee desired. On the morrowe they departed thence and arriued in Gaule, where this noble Queene was generally receiued with great ioy. And because that (as it hath béene héeretofore rehearsed) the King bare her singuler affection, he did for her sake stay more in his Realm, then he was wunt to doo: so that not long after, the Quéen brought him a Sonne, who was named Galaor, and next a daughter called Melicia,.

But the little Galaor being two yeeres and a halfe olde, it chaunced that one day the King his Father, soiourning not farre from the Sea side, in one of his Cities named Orangill, standing at a windowe toward the Garden, where was thē the Queene with her Sonne and Ladyes sporting: there entred at a posterne doore such a horrible Giant, as no man that euer saw him but was exceedingly affraide, bearing on his neck a huge and mighty Mace. When the companye of women espied him, some fled among the trees, and other (not to see him) fell on the ground: but the Giant made no reckoning of them, only he came to little Galaor, whome he tooke in his armes, and in a laughter saide. By my faith, the Damosell saide true. So without dooing any thing els, ta­king away the Childe, returned the same way he came: and entring a Brigandine that there stayed for him, departed vnder saile. In meane while the sorrowful Queene, who sawe her sonne caryed away. (forgetting through motherly loue the feare of the Giant) followed him very neere, hoping to recouer her little Galaor: but whē she saw him enter the Brigandine, God knowes in what anguishe she was, for her Sonne in crying saide: Ah help me Mother. Alas she could not, and more strange then death she took it, to see him caried away, whom she loued as her owne life: and in this extreame dollour, she remembred her other Sonne throwen [Page] into the Sea, wherfore the wofull mother fell downe in a swoune. King Perion her husband, who sawe all this in the place where he stood, from whence he could not quickly come to aide the Queene or her Sonne: at last came to y^• Queen, finding her in that case, and did so much as he recouered her againe. Then began she to make the moste greeuous moue in the Worlde, regreting this newe losse, by whome she be­fore hoped to vnderstand of her firste: and dispayring euer to heare any newes of comfort, moued great compassion in all that behelde her. All this while the King laboured to per­swade her, wherby at last she reobtained the reason y^t before was absent, wherupon the King saide. Madame, we must thanke God for all, and cheefely in this case, for now I eui­dentlye sée hath happened, the effecte of my Dreame wherof sometime I tolde ye: thus is little Galaor the last hart, that must be taken from vs against our will. Hencefoorth therfore feare not to declare, what is become of the firste, for conside­ring the estate you then were in, you ought not in reason to be blamed At these woordes the mournefull Mother, forget­ting none of the faulte committed, tolde him the mis-fortune of her firste borne Sonne, entreating him to pardon her, see­ing she did it thorowe feare of death, according as was the lawe of the Countrey. In good faith Madame, answered the King, well may ye assure your selfe, that while I liue I will not be offended with ye, on your behalfe therfore I pray ye, to take their desteny so discreetly as you may: for I trust in God, that séeing it hath pleased him at our beginning, to affoorde vs so little ioy and comforte by our children, in time to come he will recompence vs with better successe, and it may be yet one day, that wee shall heare good tidinges of them.

Now leauing this, ye must note, that the Giant who bare away the yong Prince, was of the Countreye of Leo­n [...]. Lord of an Isle named Gandalan, wherin he had two strong places. He was not a bloodye man as manye other were, but of gentle and peaceable conuersation, except when he was offended for in his fury he would doo great cruelties. [Page 19] At one instant was the little barque so caried by the Winde, as hee arriued in his Countrey, which hee had caused [...]o be peopled with Christians, and there he kept a Hermite of most holy life, to whome he went saying. Father take this Childe, and nourish him for me, teaching him all that is con­uenient in a Knight, for I assure ye, he is the Sonne of a King and a Quéene. Ah, saide the Hermite, why haue ye doone such a cruell deede? I will tell ye, answered the Giant. Being minded to go combate with the Giant Albadan, who moste vnhappilye killed my Father, as you knowe, and at this present forcibly holdes from me the Rocke of Galteres, which by right appertaineth to me: beeing thus embarqued to execute mine intent, there came a Damosell to me, who saide. Thou abusest thy selfe, for what thou goest about, must be doone by the Sonne to King Perion of Gaule, who is much more strong and hardy then thou art. I demaunded by her faith, whether she tolde me true or no. That shalt thou sée, quoth she: At what time the two braunches of one tree shalbe ioyned, which at this instant are seuered: then did she tell me, where I should finde him of whome she spake, and this is he I giue you in guard, euen as you loue me. By these means remained little Galaor in the holy mans charge, and there he staide so long, till he was of yéers to receiue the order of Knighthood, as héerafter shalbe recited to you.

At this time reigned in great Brittaine, a King named Falangris, who dying without Children, left one of his bre­theren his heire: no lesse prudent in all affaires, thē prompt at armes and Knightly chiualrie, béeing called Lisuart, who maried (not long before) with Brisana, daughter to the King of Denmarke, the fairest Lady that then was to be found in all the North partes. And albeit she had béene requested in mariage by great Princes of the country, notwithstanding for feare of some, the father durst not cōsent to the other: for which he would prouide by choosing one him self, and so ma­ried her to the yong Prince Lisuart, who for loue serued him, nor was he ignorant of the vertues harbouring in his gentle hart. Now after the death of Falangris, the Princes of great [Page] Brittayne knowing the right of Lisuart, sent for him to suc­ceede in the Realme: for he béeing in a strange Countrey, where by his hautye déedes and chiualrie, he was maried in so good a place, therfore they dispatched their Ambassadours to him, intreating him to accept the Realme and Subiects of great Brittaine, and to come to inuest him selfe therin.

PRince Lisuart vnderstanding his sub­iectes desire for his short return, pro­uided his equipage by Sea, béeing ai­ded and assisted by the King of Den­marke his Father in Law, and after­ward set saile toward great Brittain. And because he coasted along Scot­land, he tooke landing there, whereof Languines being aduertised, came and receiued him very royally. Now was this new King of great Brittaine accompanied with the Quéene his wife, and a faire Princesse their daughter, aged (as is thought) about ten yéeres, named Oriana, one of the fairest creatures that euer was seene: and therfore (during the time of her abode in Denmarke,) she was commonlye called The only, because her paragon was not to be found in beauty. This yong La­dy Oriana, beeing not vsed to the trauaile on the Sea, found her selfe somewhat weary, and her Father fearing a woorsse mishap, intreated the King of Scotland she might stay with him till he sent for her. Right gladly did King Languines and his Quéen accept this charge, wherfore King Lisuart, (with­out longer stay in Scotland) went to Sea, where weighing Anckers & hoising sailes, in short time landed in his owne Country, where béeing arriued, before he could abide in quiet, asin such occasions it often falleth out: certaine Re­belles [Page 20] were found, whom in time he ouer-maistred, which was the cause he could not so spéedilye send for his daughter that he left in Scotland.

In this place the Author leaueth the newe King peacea­bly ruling in great Brittaine, and returneth to the Gentle­man of the Sea, who by this time hath attained the age of twelue yéeres: albeit in stature he seemed past fifteene, and and for his good grace (both of the Quéene and the other La­dyes) was loued and esteemed more then any other. Now ac­cording as hath béene already declared, the young Princesse Oriana Daughter to King Lisuart, was lefte with the Quéene of Scottes to refreshe her selfe, till the King her Fa­ther should send for her, and to her did the Queene vse all the gracious curtesies coulde be deuised, saying to her withall: Faire Madame, hencefoorth (so please you) shall the Gentle­man of the Sea serue you, and be yours. Which the Princesse Oriana willingly accepted, wherfore the yong Prince made such an impression of this kindenesse in his spirite, as during life he meant to serue nor loue any other, and therfore fore­euer bequeathed to her his hart: but so wel it came to passe, that this loue was mutuall and equall betwéene them both. Notwithstanding, the Prince for a while hauing no know­ledge therof, thought him self vnwoorthy so great good: repu­ting it a very bolde enterprise to thinke theron, which was the cause he durst not speake, but shew his good will in out­ward semblaunce. The yong Princesse who was of the same minde, and also in like payne, forbare to talke more with him then an other, therby to auoyde all suspition: but the eyes of the two louers dooing their deuoire and office, enter­coursed the thing which moste they esteemed, and thus co­uertly they liued, without acquainting eche other with this amorous affection. Soone after, this yong vnknown prince, seeing that to attaine the good grace of the Lady he loued, it was necessary he should take Armes, and receiue the order of knighthood, he saide to himselfe. If once I were a knight, I would doo such exploytes as should deserue the fauour of my Ladye, or dye in the attempte. And in this de­sire, [Page] one day finding King Languines at leysure for his re­quest, and comming to him in the garden where he walked, he fell on his knee, vsing these spéeches. My Lord, might it stand with your plesure, I gladly would receiue my knight­hood. When the King heard him, séeing his young yéeres, he was greatly abashed, and thus answered. How now Gen­tleman of the Sea? Doo you thinke your selfe already strong enoughe for such a weightie charge? in sooth it is an easie thing to receiue honor: but to maintaine it as behooueth (it may be) is more hard then you estéeme, so that oftentimes a a right good hart is troubled therwith. For if through feare or cowardise he forsake what he ought to doo, more bet­ter is death to him, then a shamefull life: therfore by mine aduise, I would haue you yet a while to forbeare. The prince not contented with this answere, replyed. I will not forgoe honor, my Lord, through any such feare as it pleaseth you to alleadge, for if I had not the desire to doo all that appertay­neth to chiualrie, I would not haue beene so bolde to make this request: but seeing by your gracious fauour I haue been hetherto nourished, most humbly I beséech ye to graunt me this peticion, that I may receiue no occasion of loosing your seruice, to séeke else where for obtaining my sute. The king highly estéeming the courage of y^e youth, and doubting least he would departe indeed, answered. Assure your selfe Gen­tleman, that I will doo it when I sée it necessarye for ye, in meane while prouide your Armes and what els belongeth: Yet tel me (faire Sir) to whom (if I refused) would you goe for your order. To King Perion, saide y^e Prince, who is repu­ted a good and hardie Knight, for he hath maried the Sister to your Quéene, who maketh me beleeue that he wil not de­ny me: when I shall let him vnderstand, how she hath nou­rished me, and that I am her seruant. It is true, quoth the King, but for this present haue a little pacience, and when time serueth, you shalbe honourablye Knighted: in meane while he gaue charge, that all his néedful accoustrements for the cause should be prouided.

Now did the King aduertise Gandales héerof, who was so [Page 21] contented therwith, as he soone dispatched a Damosell to­ward the yong Prince: by whome he sent the Swoord, the King, and the letter couered with ware, which he found in the Chest he tooke out of the Sea. Such spéed made the Da­mosell, as she came to the prince, at what time he was spor­ting with Oriana and the other Ladyes, while the Queene slepte. At that instant was he in such a sollemne thought of Oriana, as not daring to lift vp his eyes to beholde her, said within him selfe. Ah God, why hast thou endued this Lady with such excellent beauty, that vnhappy I should suffer so extreame passions by louing her? Ah mine eyes, too high did ye looke when ye behelde her, of whome you are not woorthy: but if the woorst happen, death shall satisfie this [...]imeritie, wherto my hart (for her) is humbled. In this thought he was like to fall downe, so had he forgotten and ouergone him selfe: when a Page came to him, saying. Gentleman, there is a strange Damosell attending without, who hath brought ye certaine presents, & would speak with ye. When she (who loued him) heard this message, her hart began to tremble in such sorte, as béeing not able to endure this new [...]ame, she called to the Prince, saying. I pray ye stay heere, and let the Damosell come in, that we may haue the sight of what she hath brought: which he did, and the Damosell being entred, thus spake to him. My Lord, your good fréend Gandales saluteth you, as the man whom he only loueth, and hath sent ye this King, this ware, and this Swoord, which he desireth ye (for his sake) to kéepe while you liue. The Prince hauing receiued the presents, [...]aid the King and wa [...] aside, to beholde the Swoord, which being without a sheath, was wrapped in a fine linnen cloth, wherat he greatly mer­uayled: and while he was musing theron, Oriana tooke the ware, thinking it to be some other thing, and said. Beléeue me Gentleman, for my parte I would haue this ware. You may haue it if you please Madame, quoth he, but me thinks this faire King were better for ye. I will haue nothing but this ware, said Oriana, and so tooke it. During these discour­ses, the King came, who saide to the Prince: What think [Page] ye of that Swoord? My Lord, quoth he, I finde it a very faire one, but I meruaile wherfore it hath no scabbard. It is saide the King, very néere fiftéene yéers since it had one: and hauing so saide, he laide it aside, proceeding thus. You would be a Knight, and know not whether you ought be one or no: therfore it is necessary, y^t you vnderstand what you are, and I to tell you so much as I know. Héerupon he declared, how he was found in a Chest on the Sea, with the Swoord and the King as you haue alreadye heard. I beléeue my Lord, quoth the Prince, that for your pleasure you vse this inuen­tion, because the Damosell when she entred saide: that my good fréend Gandales sent me these presents, but I think she fayled in her woordes, and would haue said my Father Gan­dales. Notwithstanding (my Lord) if it be so as you haue re­hearsed, I am not displeased therat: except in not knowing of whence I am, nor they me, yet doo I thinke my selfe a Gentleman, for my hart perswades me of no lesse. Now therfore it is more necessary that I be Knighted, then before, to the end I may labour to become such a one as may ac­quire honor and reputation, séeing I haue no parents by whom I may be named, not knowing what I am. When the King heard him speak so vertuouslye, he estéemed much better of him then before, thinking him selfe, that he could not but be a man of calling and hardie.

As thus they were deuising, a Gentleman came to the King, and said. My Lord, King Perion your brother is come to the Court. The King very glad therof, departed to re­ceiue his Brother, and embracing him, thus spake. I sée my good Brother, you meant to take me vnprouided, for little did I thinke of your so sudden arriuall in this Country. No­ble brother, answered King Perion, I come to request y^e ayd of my fréendes, because I haue more néede of them at this time then euer I had: for Abies King of Ireland threatneth me with strong warre, and is with great puissaunce entred my Kingdome, so that he and Dagauel his Cozin, haue laide very seuere siedge to me. And which is woorst of all, Fortune hath so hardly dealt with me, that certaine whom I trusted [Page 22] haue forsaken me: and the greatest part of my other fréends are ouerthrowen in the skirmishes we haue had together, so that now I come to requeste your succour in this extreame need. Truely Brother, answered Languines, you may be sure therof, and your mis [...]fortune gréeueth me not a little: but I will prouide therfore so well as I can. Agraies who was newly Knighted, being hotte and ready to Armes, hauing heard the request of his Unckle, and the graunt the King his Father had made him of assistaunce: came and [...]ll on his knée before him, saying. I beséeche ye Father let me ob­tayne one boone at your handes The King who loued him as him selfe, answered. Demaund what thou wilt, for it shall not be denyed thee. I desire your sufferance, quoth Agraies, that I may goe to Gaule to aide the Quéen mine Aunte. In good faith, said the King, well content am I, and in good e­quipage shalt thou goe and stronglye accompanied. When the Gentleman of the Sea heard this determination, he was more earnest to compasse his enterprise then before: and see­ing King. Perion was present, he could not glut his eyes with beholding him, only for the good reporte he had heard of him: for he thought not thē of any affinitie or parentage, but would rather be Knighted by his hand then any other, in respect of his high and hautie déedes of Armes. And to at­taine his purpose, he thought best to intreat the Quéen, ho­ping that if she would doo so much for him, as to mooue the King her brother therin, she should not be gain-said: & for he saw her so sad that he durst not speake to her, he boldely went to Oriana, and setting his knee to the ground, saide. I pray ye Madame tell me what causeth the Quéene to be so pensiue? Oriana beholding the man before her whom she lo­ued in her very soule, albeit neither he or any other knew it: was surprized with such vehemencye of loue, as she could hardly tell how to dissemble it, yet thus she answered. Gen­tleman of the Sea and my fréend, I will take paine to know, then shall I tell ye with all my hart, seeing it is the firste re­quest that euer ye made to me. Madame, quoth he, I know in my selfe so small deseruing toward you, that I account [Page] myself vnworthy to request any thing of you: but I should think I were happy if I had the meane to obey you, or that it would please you to commaund me. What? said she, haue you so base a minde, & such small estimatiō of your self? Ma­dame, answered he, in what sort soeuer it be, I haue no for­ces at all, but such as haue left me in great desire to serue you: for my hart is altogether yours, and can receiue no­thing but from you. Mine? quoth Oriana, and since when? Since the time it pleased you Madame, replyed the Prince, And when was it, quoth she, that it pleased me? At that time, answered the Prince, when the King your Father left you in this Country, if you remember, and when y^e Quéene presented me to you, saying: I giue you this Gentleman to serue you, and at that time you accepted me as yours, when you answered, that you were well contented. Then was I giuen to you, and yours only I repute my selfe, so that I haue no authoritie ouer my selfe. Certes, saide Oriana, you tooke her woords to better end, then at that time she meante them: which I take in good parte, and am content it shalbe so. No sooner had she thus saide, but the Prince was ouer come with such ioy, as he had no power to answer. Oriana perceiuing it, made no shew therof, but saide she would goe to the Quéene, to doo what he had desired: and returned soon after, telling him, that her greef was for the Quéen of Gaule her sister, because the King of Ireland so oppressed her coun­try. So please you Madame, answered the Prince, if I were Knighted, I gladly would goe succour her, with your leaue. And without my leaue, quoth Oriana, will ye not goe? Not for death, saide he, for without your graious fauour, my conquered hart can haue no force or vertue in any perill. At these woords Oriana smiled, saying. Séeing thē you are mine, I graunt you to be my Knight, and you shall aide y^e Quéens Sister. Most humbly did the Prince giue her thankes, tel­ling her, how the King thought it not good to giue him the order of Knighthood, but had denied him: yet, quoth he, is King Perion heere as you know, at whose handes (so pleased you to intreate it) I would more willinglye receiue it, then [Page 23] of any other. Nor will I let for that, saide she, and the bet­ter to compasse your desire: I will cause the Princesse Ma­bila to beare me company, for whose sake he will the sooner graunt it. So presently she went to her, and tolde what she and the Gentleman of the Sea had concluded, to attaine his Knighthood, and how faine he would haue it at King Perions hand, for which cause she intreated her assistaunce in y^e sute. Mabila who loued the Prince vary well, thus answered. I assure ye (Sister) there shalbe no want in me, for so well dooth the Gentleman deserue, as would make one doo much more then this for him, wherfore let him be ready this night in the Quéens Chappell: then when time shall serue, we will goe with our women to accompanie him, and I will send for the King mine Uncle (which shalbe somewhat before the break of day) that he may come sée me, and he being come to vs, you and I will mooue him in the matter, which I hope he will graunt vs considering he is a very gracious and affa­ble Prince. This is very well appointed, answered Oriana: wherfore they sent for the Prince and told him all the plat­forme they had laide: who humbly thanking them, would prouide all thinges ready for him selfe, and therfore depar­ted. Then went he to finde Gandalin, making him acquain­ted with the whole, saying. I pray ye brother, conuay mine Armour so closely as you can into the Quéenes Chappell, because I hope this might to receiue mine order: and for I must right soone departe hence, I would knowe if you haue any will to beare me company. Beléeue me, quoth Gandalin, neuer with my will shall I departe from ye. Of these woords was the Prince so glad, that the teares flood in his eyes with ioy. Well▪ saide he, prouide all thinges ready as I tolde ye: wherin Gandalin fa [...]led not, for ere supper he took such order, as all was doone vnseene of any, and the Prince got him se­cretlye into the Chappell, where he armed him selfe except the head and handes. So staying there for the Ladyes and King Perion, he fell on his knees before the Aultar, desiring God to be his aide: not only in conquering such as he should deale withall in Armes, but also in obtaining her, who cau­sed [Page] him to endure so many mortall passions. The night being come, and the Queene withdrawen; the Princesses Oriana and Mabila with their women, came to the Chappell where the Gentleman of the Sea attended, and Mabila hauing sent for King Perion, he was no sooner entred but she thus began. My Lord, seeing you haue taken so much paines for me as to come hether, I pray you graunt Madame Oriana, daugh­ter to King Lisuart, a small request she will make to ye. I would be lothe, saide the King, to deny her, as well for her Fathers honor as her own sake. Oriana arose to thank him, whom when he behelde so faire, he thought all the worlde could not match her in beauty: thus speaking to her. Ma­dame, dooth it please ye to commaund me any thing? Not commaund my Lord, quoth she, but intreat ye to giue my Gentleman the order of Knighthood: this said she, pointing to him as he kneeled before the Altare. When the King saw him, he wondered at his goodly stature and said to him. My freend, would you receiue the order of Knighthood? Yea my good Lord, answered the Prince, may it please you to giue it me. In Gods name be it doone, saide the King, who giue you grace so well to proceed therin, as he hath bestowed seemely perfection on you. Then putting on his right spurre, and dubbing him with the Swoord, thus spake. Now haue ye the order appertaining to a Knight, but I would opportuni­tie had serued me, to haue giuen it you with greater honor? not withstanding, according to mine opinion of you, I hope you will proue such, as your renown shall supply what wan­teth heere in perfourmaunce. Afterward King Perion tooke leaue of the Ladies, who highly thanked him, and then set on his way toward Gaule, commending the new Knight to the heauenly protection: this was the first act, that might beare testimonie of these Louers sweet desires. If it seeme to the reader, that their purpose was not according to affection, but simple in respect of their vehement passions: I answere, that they ought to excuse their age, likewise it often commeth to passe, that they which think them selues most expert in those pleasing and amourous amoris, haue béene by this God so [Page 24] strongly bound, and liuely attainted: as not onlye he▪ d [...]pri­ued them of speech, but of iudgement also, and it is necessary for such persons to vse greater woordes, then these two who as yet had not learned them. But this new Knight béeing throughly furnished, and ready to his iourney by his Ladies consent: would in thanking y^e companie, take a more secret conge of Oriana. And she who for this sudden parting, felte new passions in her hart, yet neuerthelesse dissembling thē: took him by the hand, and walking aside, thus spake▪ Gen­tleman of the Sea, you will be gon then, but first I pray ye tell me, whether you be the Sonne of Gandales or no: for ac­cording to the good opinion I haue of you, I thinke ye to be issued of better place. Then rehearsed he all that King Lan­guines had tolde him, wherin she conceiued very great plea­sure: which doon, they committed eche other to God. So de­parted the Prince from this companie, and right soon found Gandalin, who attended for him at the Kinges lodging doore, with the rest of his Armes and his Horsse. wheron he moun­ted, and left the Cittie vnséene of any, because as yet it was not day, so rode they on till they came into a Forrest.

Now is the greatest parte of the daye spent, before they would refreshe them selues in any place: but hunger constrained them to feede on such viandes, as Gandalin had brought with him from the Cittie. During this time, they heard in the wood on their right hand the voice of some one, which seemed to them very dolefull, wherfore the prince rode presently that way: where he found a Knight dead, and hard by him an other in little better case, for he was so woun­ded, that he had no hope to liue. As for the partie that so cri­ed, it was a woman who lay vpon the Knight, pressing him so sore, as made his hart to faile him: and which was woorst of all, the villanous woman to cause his death the sooner, cruelly thrust her handes into his woundes. But when the wounded Knight espied the Prince, so well as he could he craued succour, saying. Ah gentle Sir, for Gods sake suffer me not to be thus murthered by this ribaude. Greatly was the Prince abashed at this wicked dealing, and therfore ve­ry [Page] roughly thus spake. Woman withdraw your self, for you doo the thing not beséeming you or your like. She as one a­shamed, retired, and y^e Knightful of anguish fel in a swoune, which made the Prince verye desirous to knowe what he was: but fearing that he had alreadye yeelded his breath, quickly alighted, and vsed such good meanes as reuiued him againe, when he began to crye. Ah I am dead, good fréendes bring me to some place where I may haue councell for my soule. Take courage, answered the Prince, for you shall haue what you demaund: but I pray ye tell me, what for­tone brought ye hither, or where is he that hath thus hard­ly intreated ye? It is, said the Knight, through this wicked woman, who (albeit I was rich and puissant, yea far much more then she) I made choice, for the good loue I bare her, and espoused her as my wife: neuerthelesse she discourteous creature, forgetting the good and honor I had doon her, hath sundry times abandoned her honest regarde, namelye this night past with this Knight héere dead, whom I hauing ne­uer before séene, by cha [...]ice yesterday he came to me: and this last night thus villanouslye abused me, where taking him with the déed, we had a combate together, wherin (as you see) he lost his life. But when this strumpet sawe. I had slaine him, fearing I would doo as much to her: she fell at my féete and desired pardon, wherto I easily condiscended, prouided, that she offended no more. Héerupon, I intreated her to binde vp my woundes, but she perceiuing how grée­uously I was hurt, & brought into very weak estate through ouer-much losse of my blood, to reuenge the adulterous Uil­laines death, she assaied to kill me outright: and to make me languish the more in dying, cruelly she thrust her handes into my woundes, so that well I perceiue I cannot long liue. Therfore I beséeche ye good Sin, help me to an Hermi­tage which is néere at hand, where I shall finde some religi­ous man, to comfort me in the agonie of my Soule. Such compassion tooke the Prince on him, as he and Gandalin ta­king him in their armes, caried him on a horsse to the Her­mitage: in meane while the wretched woman stole away [Page 25] priuilie, and a little before, she fearing that her Husband would be reuenged on her, sent for helpe to thrée of her bre­theren, who dwelled not farre from that place, giuing them to vnderstand which way they should come. In her wan­dring they met with her, and she had no sooner espied them, but she thus cryed out. Ah helpe me good bretheren, for héer­before is a theefe, who hath slaine this Knight which lyeth héere, and hath beside so wounded my Husband: as there is no hope of life left in him: let him not therfore escape ye, nor he that is in his company, because the one is as déepe in the euill as the other. Such like spéeches vsed this Harlot, that by the death of the Prince and Gandalin, her treason might be couered: therfore that her Husband should not dye alone with her will, she shewed them the Gentleman of the Sea, euen as he returned from the Hermitage where he left the wounded Knight. Héeer-upon the thrée bretheren (too light of beléefe) gallopped toward him, crying: Traitour thou art but dead. You lye villaines, answered the Prince, for right well shall I defend my selfe from such traitours as you are. Bestirre thy self then, said the bretheren, for thou hast offen­ded vs all three, and we all will be reuenged on thée if we may. By good hap the Prince had his Shéeld and Launce ready, and his Helmet very well laced, wherfore without any further answere he sharpely charged them, and méeting with the first, pearced through both his Shéeld and arme: and withall threw his Horsse and him so fiercely against the ground, as his right shoulder was broken in the fall: in like manner was one of his horsse legges, so that neither the one or other could rise. At this encounter he brake his Launce, wherfore he suddenly drew his Sword, and addressing him selfe to the other twaine, gaue one of them such a forcible stroke, as s [...]icing through his Armounr, entred the fleshe to the very bone on his shoulder likewise, so that therwith he fell from his Saddle. Being thus dispatched of two he came to the third, and saluted him with such a sound blow on the Helmet, as the poore Gentleman was constrained to em­brace the neck of his Horsse, therby to sheeld himselfe from [Page] falling, finding him self as greatlye amazed as y^e other were. Heer-upon the woman that brought thē thether fled away, which y^e Prince perceiuing, cryed to Gandalin that he should stay her: in meane while the first Knight hauing recouered him selfe, vsed these spéeches to the Prince. We know not Sir, whether this fight hath beene for right or wrong, For right it could not be, answered the Prince, vnlesse you think I haue doone wrong, in succouring the husband of this trai­terous woman, whom cruelly she hath caused to dye. When the thrée Knightes heard that, they were very much abash­ed, and then thought they had béen abused by their Sister, wherfore they thus replied. Insooth my Lord, so please ye to assure vs, we will shew on what occasion we assailed you. You shall haue good assuraunce so to doo, said the Prince, yet will I not acquite ye from the Combate. Then he that first spake, rehearsed all the wordes of their Sister, according as hath béen already declared. In good sooth, quoth the Prince, neuer was villainie disguised in such sorte, for she hath doone farre otherwise: as you may vnderstand by her Husband him selfe, who being neere his death, I conuaied to an Her­mitage hard at hand. Seeing it hath so fallen out, saide the three Bretheren, dispose of vs as they that remaine at your mercy. And mercy shall ye haue, answered the Prince, if first ye will loyally sweare to me, that you will cary this woman and her husband to the Court of King Languines, and there before him recite all that hath happened: saying withall, how you were therto constrained by a young Knight that sent ye thither, and who this day departed from his Court, desiring him to censure on this misdeed as he shall thinke good. All this they promised and swore to perfourme: wher­fore commending thē to God, he roade away, leauing them together.

THis quarrell thus ended with the three Knightes, the Gentleman of the Sea tooke the way which before he had left: but they had not riddē long, till they saw two Damoselles come to­ward them by two sundrye waies, who addressed themselues to meete together, which when they had doon, they entred into cōmunication. One of them bare a Launce in her hand, and when they were come to the Prince, she with the Launce auaunced her selfe to him saying. My Lord, take this Launce which I giue ye, because I can assure ye, that within three daies it will stand ye in so good stéed, as therwith you shall deliuer from death, the house from whence ye are discended. The Prince ama­zed at these woordes, thus answered. How can it be Lady, that a house should liue or dye? It shalbe, quoth she, euen so as I haue said, and this present I was desirous to bring ye, as a beginning of recompence, for two fauours I hope to re­ceiue by you, the first wherof shall be: When one of your best freendes, shall by you haue one of the greatest honors that e­uer he can receiue, wherby he shall fall into the deepest dan­ger, that any Knight hath doone these ten yeeres space. Be­leeue me Lady, answered the Prince, such honor (if God please) I will not doo my fréend. Full well I know, quoth the Damosell, that so it shall come to passe: then putting on her Palfray, departed: this Damosell you may note, was Vrganda the vnknowen. When the other Damosell (who heard the woordes) saw her forsake her companie, she deter­mined for certaine daies to stay with the Prince, to see what he should doo, wherfore she saide. My Lord, although I am [Page] a stranger, if you thinke it conuenient, I would gladly for a while abide with y [...], deferring a iourney that I haue to my mistresse. The Prince well perceiued she was a stranger, which made him to demaund of whence she was: wherto she replied, that she was of Denmarke. And that him selfe could not gain-say, because her language gaue assuraunce therof, for hauing heard his Lady Oriana at her first com­ming into Scotland, it made him the better remember that Country spéech, wherupon he saide. If you please (faire Da­mosell) to goe with me, I will defend ye to my power: but I pray ye tel me, if you know the other Lady that euen now gaue me this Launce? Truely Sir, quoth she, neuer did I sée her, till now I met her on the way, and then she saide to me: that the Launce she caried, she would giue to the best Knight in the world, desiring me (withall) to let you vnder­stand after her departure, that she bare you great affection, and how she was named Vrganda the vnknowne. Ah God, quoth he, how infortunate am I in not knowing her, if I forbeare now presently to follow her, you must think Lady the cause is, that I cānot finde her against her will: and thus deuising they rode on, vntill the darke euening ouer-tooke them.

At this time it so chaunced that they met with a Squire, who demaunded where they intended to finde lodging tra­uailing so late. Where we can, answered the Prince. In good faith, saide the Squire, if you meane to haue lodging, you must leaue the way which now you take, for you can not long time come to any that way: but if you will follow me, I will conduct ye to a Castell belonging to my Father, who shall doo you all the honor and good entertainment may be deuised. The Damosell thinking this councell good, desi­red the Prince to accept therof, which he did, therfore the Squire rode before them as their guide, leading them direct­ly foorth of the way, because he had neuer séene the combates of Knightes errant: and hoping to conduct them the day fol­lowing to a Castell where such pastime was vsed, but that night he brought them to their lodging, feasting and enter­taining [Page 27] them very sumptuously: yet could y^e Prince take no rest all y^e night, for thinking on y^e Lady that brought him the Launce. On the morrow very early they would be gon, and taking leaue of their hoste, the Squire saide he would bring them againe into their way, acquainting the Prince as he rode with the custome of the Castell, which being very neere at hand he shewed them: the Castell standing very strong and pleasantly, for before it ran a huge swift Riuer, and no passage therto, but ouer a long drawe-bridge, hauing at the end a faire Tower for defence therof. When the Prince be­held it, he thought he must needes passe thether by y^e bridge, yet he asked the Squire if there were any other way. No my Lord, quoth he, for this is the vsuall passage. Marche on then, saide the Prince, wherwith the Squire, the Damosell and their company set forward, but the Gentleman of the Sea remaining behinde, entred into such a thought of his Lady Oriana, as he had well néere forgotten him selfe: but at length he heard the noyse of fire Halberders, armed with Corslettes and Helmettes, who at the entraunce of the bridge had arrested the Damosell, and there would force her to take an oathe, that she should neuer beare loue to her freend, if he would not promise her to aide King Abies of Ire­land againste King Perion: which she refusing, cryed to the Prince for his assistaunce. This clamour made him forget his musing, when addressing him selfe to the Palliar­des, he saide. Trayterous villaynes, who commaunded you to lay handes on this Lady being in my charge? In speaking these woordes, he came to the chéefest of the sixe, from whom right soone he caught his hatchet, and gaue him such a stroke therwith, as he fell to the ground. All the other together presentlye set vpon him, but one of them he sliced to the ve­rye téethe, and soone after an other bare him companye with the losse of his arme. When the thrée that were left sawe their companions so handled, they took them selues to flight, and the Prince followed them so néere, as one of them left his legge behinde him, the other twaine he let go, returning where he left the Damosell, to whom he saide. Now boldely [Page] goe on, and like euill fortune may they haue, that encourage any villaine, to lay forcible hand on Lady or Damosell. She béeing assured by these woordes, went on with the Prince and his Squires: but ere they had gon any thing farre, they heard a great noyse and tumult within the Castell. Me thinkes Sir, said the Damosell, I heare a meruaylous mur­muring within this Fortresse, therfore I would aduise ye to take the rest of your Armour. Goe on quoth the Prince, and feare not, for where Ladyes are euill intreated (who ought euery where to goe in safety) there hardly abideth any man of valewe. In sooth, said she, if you doo not what I haue desi­red, I will not passe any further: and so much she perswaded him, that at length he laced on his Helmet: afterward he went into the Castell, at the entraunce wherof, he met a Squire wéeping, who saide. Ah God, why will they murder (without cause) the best Knight in the worlde? alas, they would enforce him to promise, what is impossible for him to accomplishe. These woordes of the Squire, could not stay the Prince, for he saw King Perion (who had so lately Knighted him) very hardly vsed by two Knights, who with the help of ten armed Halberders had round beset him, saying. Swear, if not, thou dyest. Greatly did it gréeue the Prince, to sée such outrage offered to King Perion, wherfore he thus called to them. Trayterous villaines, what mooues ye to misuse the best Knight in the world? by heauen you shall all dye for him. At these woords, one of the Knightes left the King, and taking fiue Halberders with him, came to the Prince, say­ing. It likewise behooueth you to sweare, if not, you can es­cape no better then an other. What? quoth he, shall I then sweare against my will? by Gods leaue it shall not be so. Then they of the Castell cryed to the Porter, that he should shut the gate, wherfore the Prince now saw he must stand vpon his defence: wher-upon he ran fiercelye against the Knight, charging him in such sorte, as he fell downe dead o­uer the crupper of his horsse, for in the fall he brake his neck. Which the prince beholding, not tarying any longer with the Halberders, came to the other Knight that combated [Page] with King Perion, piercing his Launce quite through his bo­dy, so that he accompanied the first in fortune. King [...] séeing him self thus succoured, so cheered vp his hart, as he did much better then before against his enemies, causing them by sharpe strokes of his Swoord to retire: in meane while the Gentleman of the Sea, (being on Horsse-backe) ranne a­mong them and scattered them, tumbling one downe héere, and another there, so that at length by the aide of the King, they were all slaine, except certaine that fled away on the top of the walles. But the prince alighted and followed them, wherat they were so affrighted, as they cast them­selues downe headlong from the walles: only two got them into a Chamber, where they thought to remaine in safetie, notwithstanding he pursued them so néere, as he buckled pel mel with them. But within the Chamber on a bed lay an ancient Knight, whose vnweldie age had taken from him the vse of his legges: to them that came in he vsed these spée­ches. Cowardly villaines, from whom run ye so shamefully? From a Knight, aunswered one of them, who hath plaide the Deuill in your Castell: for he hath slaine your two Ne­phewes and all our companions. As thus he spake, the prince caught him by the head, saying. Tell me (villaine) where is the Lord of this place, or else thou diest. The poore man seeing him selfe in such perill, shewed him y^e olde Knight lying on the bed: but when the prince sawe him so olde and decrepite, he blamed him in this manner. Thou wretched olde man, hath death already seazed on thy bones, and yet doost thou cause such a wicked custome to be maintained héer? Well dooth thine age excuse thée from bearing Armes, yet shall I giue thée the desert belonging to such villainie. With these woords he made offer to smite off his head: Wherfore the affrighted olde man cryed: Alas my Lord, for Gods sake mercie. None at all, quoth the prince, thou art dead if thou swearest not to me, y^t while thou liuest, such like treason shall be no more maintained in this place: wherto y^e olde Knight right gladly tooke his oathe. Now tell me, said the prince, wherfore hast thou héertofore kept this custome héere? For [Page] the loue of King Abies of Ireland, answered the Knight, who is mine Nephewe, and because I can not ayde him with my person in his warre, I was desirous to succour him with such Knightes errant as passed this way. False villaine, an­swered the prince, what haue Knightes errant to doo with thy desire? so spurning the bed with his foote, threw it downe and the olde Knight vnder it: where commending him to all the Deuilles, he lefte him, and comming downe into the Courte, took a Horsse which was one of the slaine Knightes, and bringing it to y^e King, saide. Mount your selfe my Lord, for it little likes me to stay any longer héere, where such bad people haue their habitation. The King presentlye went to horseback, and so they rode together out of the Castell: but the prince fearing least the King should know him, would by no meanes take off his Helmet, notwithstanding as they rode along, the King thus spake to him. I pray ye sir Knight tell me of whence you are, that haue succoured me when I was so néere my death: warranting me also héereafter from the enemies of this place, and shewing your selfe a good fréend to Ladies and Knightes errant. As for me, I am the same man against whom they kept this straite passage, im­porting the cruell oathe for which you combatted. My Lord, answered the prince, I am a Knight desirous to doo you any seruice. Beléeue me, quoth y^e King, that haue I already well perceiued, for hardly should I haue found so good a fréend to helpe me: yet will I not giue ouer till I know ye. Alas my Lord, saide he, that will little profit ye. Notwithstanding, quoth the King, I pray ye take off your Helmet: which he would not doo, but put downe his Beuer a little. When the King saw that his intreatie would not preuaile, he desired the Damosell to obtaine so much for him: wherto the con­discending, tooke the prince by the hand, saying. I beséech ye Sir, graunt the King what he hath requested. He séeing her importunate, took off his Helmet, when presently the King knewe him, that it was the same man hee had Knighted at the Ladies motion, wherfore embracing him, he saide. Right glad am I to know so déere a fréend, My Lord, quoth [Page 29] the prince, I knew you so soone as I came to the Castell, to be the man that gaue me mine order of Knighthood, wher­with (so please if God) I meane to serue you while your warre continueth in Gaule: and willingly I would not be knowne by any one till your troubles be finished. You haue already, said the King, doone so much for me, as I rest boun­den to you while I liue, allowing you to dispose of me and mine: and if (as you say) you come into Gaule, you shall augment with aduauntage the honor due to you, then iust­ly may I tearme the hower happie, that it was my fortune to make so good a Knight. Such like woordes vsed King Pe­rion, little thinking how néere they were allied together, and thus they rode deuising, till at length they came to a dou­ble way, when he demaunded of the King, which of those waies pleased him to take. This on the left hand, answered the King, because it guideth directly to my Countrye. God haue you then in his kéeping, saide the Prince, for I must néedes ride this other waye. I praye ye, quoth the King, re­member your comming into Gáule as you promised me, for the hope I haue in you hath abridged parte of my sorrowe, and giueth me assuraunce withall, that by your meanes I shall recouer my losse. So tooke they leaue of eche other, the King toward Gaule, and the Prince in companye with the Damosell and Gandalin: but because she had now seen what she desired, namely the proofe of the Launce which Vrganda gaue him, she would trauaile no further out of her way, but turning to the Prince said. I haue hetherto (my Lord) with right good will kept ye company, because y^e Lady that gaue ye the Launce, saide she brought it to the best Knight in the world, and surely I haue seen so much, as I stand in no doubt of her spéeches: wherfore I shall now shape my course to finde her I am sent to, as before I tolde ye. I pray ye Lady, quoth he, tell me what she is. It is, saide she, the Princesse Oriana, Daughter to King Lisuart of great Brittaine. When he heard her named whom he loued so déerly his hart began to tremble in such sort, as he had fallen beside his horsse, but that Gandalin stayed him, yet fetching a great sigh, said: Ah [Page] God, my hart faileth me. The Damosell thinking some sud­dē sicknes was cause therof, would haue had him vnarmed: but he tolde her it was néedelesse, for he was oftentimes want to feele such passions. The Squire (who all this while had beene their guide) tooke leaue of the Prince, asking the Damosell if her way lay toward the Courte of King Lan­guines: which she affirming, he saide he would accompanye her thither, because he had busines of some importance there. So hauing courteouslye saluted eche other, they returned the same way they came, and the Prince rode on with Gan­dalin to séeke aduentures.

Héere leaueth the Author, to tell ye what happened to Galaor, whome the Giant caried away, and gaue in kéeping to the aged Hermite, as already you haue heard. By this time had Galaor attained the age of sixtéene yéeres, meruay­louslye encreasing in stature and comely perfection: hauing no other exercise, then reading on a Booke which the olde man lent him, discoursing the déeds of Armes of sundry aun­cient Knightes. Héerin he tooke so great pleasure, as on this occasion, as also by a naturall instinct: he was desirous to be Knighted, neuerthelesse, he knew not whether by right such honor appertained to him. Uerye earnestlye he questioned theron with the Hermite, but the holy man who knew right well, that so soone as he receiued the order, he should combat against the giant Albadan: his eyes being filled with teares, he thus answered. My Sonne, much better were it for you to labour in the safetie of your soule, then to aduenture on the order of Knighthood, which is to be maintained with wunderous trauaile. Father, quoth Galaor, verye hardlye shall I follow the calling, which I take against my will: but in that wherof my hart hath made choise, if God graunt me good successe, will I aduaunce his seruice, for ther-out may I not be during life. The good Hermite, who then well percei­ued his grounded resolution, replied. Certes my Sonne, see­ing you are determined to follow Armes, I can well assure ye, that through faulte of high linage, you neede not dispaire of good hap, in respect you are Sonne to a King and Quéene: [Page 30] but kéepe that to your selfe, and let not the Giant know how I tolde ye so much. When Galaor heard this, he was excée­dingly contented, saying to the Hermit. In sooth Father, the care I haue had all my life time to be a Knight, hath béene very great: but now I thank God and you, I am rid ther­of, for by that you haue tolde me, I can not misse of it. The Hermit noting his earnest affection, doubted least soon after he would be gon: wherfore he gaue the Giant to knowe his Schollers for wardnes, as also how his constitution did now very wel serue him, being wonderful desirous of his knight­hood, and therfore he should now deale in the cause as best him selfe pleased. No sooner was the Giant enfourmed heer­of, but presently he got him to horse-back, and rode to the Hermit, with whom he found Galaor, of more large stature then his yéeres expressed, very comely and beautifull in eue­ry parte, wherupon he thus spake to him. I vnderstand Sonne, that you would be a Knight to follow Armes, true­ly you shall, prepare your self to goe with me when time ser­ueth, and your desire shalbe honourablye satisfied. Father, answered Galaor, héer in consisteth the summe of mine affecti­on: so not long after, the Giant departed from the Hermit, taking Galaor with him, who falling on his knée before the reuerend olde man, desired that as he had fatherlye nouri­shed him, so still he would remember him in his deuoute ori­sons. The holy man with the teares trickling downe his chéekes, kissed and blessed him, thē mounted Galaor on horse­back and followed the Giant, who brought him home to his Castell: where for certayne time he practised to combate at Armes, as also brauely to manage horsses, hauing all things conuenient for the same, and two maisters very expert ther­in. When he had continued a yéere at these exercises, the Giant seeing him woorthye to receiue honor, and strong e­nough to endure chiualrie: disposed theron as you shall read héerafter.

Now againe dooth the Author leaue him, and discourseth of that which chaunced to the Gentleman of the Sea, who af­ter he departed from King Perion and the Damosell, rode [Page] [...] [Page 30] [...] [Page] two dayes together, without any aduenture: and on the third about mid-day, he ariued at a verye goodlye Fortresse, that appertained to a Gentleman named Galpan. This Gal­pan was then the most valiant Knight in all that Countrey, and therfore was greatly feared of all his Neighbours, yet did he there maintain an abhominable and wicked custome: forgetting God who was chéefly to be honoured, bequeathed his endeuours to the seruice of the Deuill. For he constrai­ned all Ladies and Damoselles that passed by his Castell to enter in, where villamously he took his pleasure of them: and not contented therwith, enforced them to sweare, that while they liued they should beare affection to none but him, if any denied, he caused them cruellye be put to death. Likewise he compelled such Knightes as trauailed that way, to com­bate one alone, against his two Bretheren, but if they were vanguished, hee would force the conquerour to deale with him selfe, he being the most hardy Knight in all those partes. If it happened that he brought them into any debilitie, he would take from them all they had, turning them away on foote, after he had made them sweare, to name them selues while they liued, the vanquished by Galpan, otherwise, he would depriue them of life. But God displeased with the crueltie, which so long time he had vsed to the hurt of many good people, would now alter this great inconuenience, and that Galpan with his complices should receiue guerdon to their desertes, making them an example to all other, as you shall heare presently recited.

BY this time the Gentleman of the Sea is come néere y^e Castell, where he saw a Lady cōming towards him great­ly afflicted, hauing no other compa­nye then a Squire and a Page. This sorrowfull woman breathed foorthe many gréeuous sighes, shewing a vio­lent kinde of warre, betwéene her handes and the golden tresses of her haire, which she discheueled and rent very pittifully. Héerat was the Prince not a little amazed, and willing to knowe what mooued her to these extreames, he came to her with these spéeches. Faire Gentlewoman, I pray ye tell me the cause of your sorrowe. Ah my Lord, quoth she, death would be now right welcome to me, beeing the only fréend to beare me companie: for such is my misfortune, as teares are more conuenient for me, then remembraunce of the cause. In sooth Ladye, saide the Prince, if in any respecte I can doo ye good, you shall finde me readye with all my hart. Beeing sente Sir, quoth the Damosell, by my Mistresses commaunde­ment, to a young Knight, a man of some account in these partes, and passing along this waye: foure cruell villaines set vpon me, and (whether I would or no) brought me into this Castell, where a traiterous Knight dishonourably for­ced me, compelling me afterward to sweare, that I should neuer loue any fréend but him. This complainte mooued the Prince to great admiration, and thus he answered▪ Follow me Lady, for your iniurye shalbe reuenged if God giue me leaue, Héer-upon the Damosell immediatly went with him, and by the way he desired her to tell him, what the man was [Page] to whome she was sent. If you reuenge my wrong quoth she, I will tell ye: but I can assure ye he is such a one, as will be right sorye when he heares of my misusage. Great rea­son, said the Prince, hath he so to doo: and as thus they com­muned together, they came to the place where she shewed him the foure Gardants, to whom he presently said. Disloy­all varlettes, wherfore haue ye so abused this Ladye as she trauailed on her iourny? Because (quoth they) we stood in no feare of you: but if you get ye not gone the sooner, your en­tertainement shalbe woorsse then hers was. Without any more talking he drew his Swoord, and comming to one that heaued his Hatchet against him, quite cut away the right arme from his bodye: then turning to another, cleft him o­uer the face to the very eares. When the rest saw their com­panions thus maimed, they fled away so fast as they could, running through a by waye along a Riuer side: but the Prince making no shew of pursuing thē, wiped his Swoord and put it vp againe, then comming to the Damosell, bad her goe forwarde. My Lord, quoth she, hard by is a gate, where I found two armed Knightes attending. Well, saide he, and I shall finde them when I come thether. So rode they on, and as the Prince entred the base Courte, he sawe the Dungeon doore open, and an armed Knight on Horse­back come foorth, after whome they within let downe a Porte cullis, and shut the doore againe: then the Knight of the Castell auauncing him selfe, very boldely thus spake to the Prince. Poore wretch, too soone art thou come hether to receiue shame and dishonour. Dishonor? quoth the Prince, tush these are but woordes, leaue what shall happen to the prescience of God, who only is skilfull therin: and tell me if thou be the villaine that did force this Lady? No, answered the Knight, but if it were I, what then? I meane, quoth the Prince, to reuenge her wrong if I can. Goe to, saide the Knight, I shall see then what kinde of reuenge you vse. So giuing the Spurres to his Horse, ran as fiercely as he could against the Prince, yet he failed in the attainte: but the Prince méeting him with full carrire, gaue him such a grée­ting [Page 32] with his Launce through the Sheeld, as the armour be­ing vnable to resist it, let passe y^e yron thorow both his shoul­ders, wherby he fell downe dead in the place. Hauing with­drawen his Launce, prepared him selfe for an other that came to succour the firste, who pearcing quite through the Princes Shéeld, left the head of his Launce in his Armour, which was of sufficient proofe: but in the encounter he met his enemy to directly, as he rent the Helmet from his head, casting him so violently of his Saddle, as he was able to sit no more on horse backe. The Knight seeing him selfe thus vnarmed, cryed for some other to come help him, wher-upon three Halberders issued foorth, to whome he saide: Look well my fréendes that this man escape vs not. At these woordes, they ranne all thrée violentlye on the Prince, and buckled so néere him, as they slew his horsse betwéene his legges, wher­by he was constrained to fight on foote: and so offended was hee therat, that hauing recouered him selfe, he smote his Launce through the Knights head, which made him present­ly yéeld the ghoste. And now he bestirres him self against the other thrée, who cowardly stealing behinde him, wounded him on the Shoulder, wherby he lost a great quantity of his blood: but full well he recompenced the villaine that did it, letting foorth the deerest blood he had in his body, by cleauing him with his Swoord as it had béene an Axe. The other two terrified héere-with, ran vp into a long Gallerie, crying: Come my Lord, come quickly, for we are all vanquished. In meane while, the Prince séeing his owne Horsse was slaine, mounted on that belonged to the Knight he slewe last: soone after he saw another Knight stand looking foorth at a doore, who perceiuing the Prince had espied him, said. What hath mooued thée to come in héere and kill my people? Nothing els, answered the Prince, then the desire I haue to reuenge this Lady, who hath beene héere wronged most dishonoura­bly. As thus he spake, the damosell came to him, and know­ing the Lord of the Castell that forced her, she saide. Ah gen­tle Knight, see that this monster escape you not, for by him haue I lost my former honor. Libidinous Ruffian, quoth [Page] the Prince, déerely shalt thou paye for thy disloyall dealing: Goe arme thée, else will I slay thee naked as thou art, for to thee or such like Uillaines ought be vsed no fauour: but the Damosell more and more still cryed. Kill, kill the Tray­tour, that heereafter he liue not to abuse any more, other­wise will their shame be laide to your charge. Lewde wo­man, answered the Knight, in an euill hower came he hi­ther by thy counsell, and in thy company. And thou y^e threat­nest me so brauely, attend my comming, and flye not away, for by no other meanes canst thou warrant thy selfe. So he departed, and soone after came armed into the Court, where he mounted on a lusty white Courser: then comming to the Prince, he began to menace him, saying. Well maist thou cursse the time that euer thou sawest this Damosell, for it will cost thee the price of thy head. Each one, said the prince, must kéep his head so well as he may, and he that cannot, let him loose it. Without longer stay they coutched their Laun­ces, which at their encounter ran into their Shéeldes & ar­mour, wounding somewhat déepe into their flesh▪ and so for­cibly did their bodies méete togeather, as they were bothe laide along on the ground, when quicklye recouering them­selues, with their Swoords drawen they prepare to the com­bate. Fierce and cruell strokes were giuen on either side, to the great admiration of such as behelde them, for many pee­ces of their Shéelds and armour was scattered round about them: and which is more, their Helmets were so torne and battered, as oftentimes their bare heads bore off y^e blowes, so that the ground was coulloured with their blood: but Gal­pan had receiued a wound through the sight of his Helmet, which made the blood trickle into his eyes, and he to wipe them retired back a little. What Galpan? said the Prince, de­sirest thou to breathe? doost thou not remember that thou fightest for my head? if thou defendest not thine owne well, thou art like to loose it. Be pacient a while, answered Galpan, and let vs breathe a little, for we haue time enough to make an end. It is no reasonable motion, said the Prince, séeing I fight not with thée for curtesie, but to reuenge the dishonor [Page 33] thou hast doon to this Lady▪ With these woords he haue him such a stroke on the head, as made him fall to the ground on his knées, yet quickly he arose and tooke hart a freshe: but the Prince would not let him range about as he desired, for he was so out of breath, that he coulde hardlye lift vp his Swoord, wherfore he did nothing but croutch vnder his Sheeld, yet was it so sliced away in peeces, as very little was left to defend him selfe withall. Galpan seeing he had no other remedie, began to flye before the Swoord of his enemye, and at length (as his last refuge) thought to saue him selfe in a little Tower which his Gardants vsed to stand in: but the Prince following him hard at the héeles, got him by the hel­met and puld it off, and giuing a full stroke at him, therwith smote his head from the shoulders, afterward he came to the Damosell, saying. Faire Lady, now may ye chuse an other fréend if you please, for he to whom you promised, hath dis­charged ye of the bargaine. Thankes be to God and you sir, quoth she: and as they returned from y^e Tower, they heard the doore shut too, wherfore he mounted on Galpans Horsse, which was esteemed one of the goodlyest in the Worlde, and saide to the Damosell. I praye ye Ladye, now let vs be gon hence. My Lord, quoth she, if it like you. I will cary this head to him whom I am sent, & present it to him on your behalfe. Doo not so, saide the Prince, for the cariage will be too trou­blesome, but take the Helmet if you will. The Damosell li­king well of his aduise, commaunded her Squire to carye it with him: and so they rode from the Castell, the seruantes whereof were all gone, and had left the gates wide open. But the Prince not forgetting the Damoselles promise, that she would tell him the Knightes name she was sent vnto: ther­fore earnestlye he intreated her to satisfie him therin. Good reason, quoth she: his name is Agraies, Sonne to the King of Scotland. Praised be God, said the Prince, who made me able to doo so much, as so good a Knight shall be no more wronged by traiterous Galpan: for you are (in mine opinion) well auenged, and woorthelye maye you call Agraies a good Knight, in respecte he is one of the best I knowe, and if for [Page] him you haue receiued dishonor, it now returneth to your commendation. Goe then and say to him, that a Knight of his, humbly saluteth him, whom he shall finde at the warres en Gaule when he commeth thither. Gentle Sir, quoth she, seeing you loue him so wel, I pray ye graunt me one request. That wil I, quoth the Prince. Let me then, saide she, vnder­stand your name. Lady, quoth he, at this time forbeare the knowledge therof, and commaund what else you please, you shall not be denied. No other thing will I desire, answered the Damosell. Beléeue me, saide the Prince, it is little cour­tesie to request the thing, which willinglye I would not re­ueale to any one. Yet must I néedes know it, quoth the Da­mosell, or else you doo not perfourme your promise. When he perceiued she would not be disswaded, somewhat mooued with anger he replyed. Such as knowe me, call me the Gen­tleman of the Sea. So setting spurres to his horsse, he gallop­ped away from the damosell, who was not a little glad that she knew his name: but when he was gone from her, he re­membred the wound on his shoulder, which still bled verye freshlye, so that he might easily be tracte by his blood, and on his white Horsse it had dropt in many places. At euening he came some-what neere a fortresse, where he beheld a Knight vnarmed comming toward him, and after he had well view­ed him, he said. My Lord, I pray ye tell me where haue you béene so wounded? In sooth, quoth the Prince, at a Castell not very farre hence. And how, saide the Knight, came you by that goodly white Horsse? I tooke it, answered the prince, in requitall of mine owne, that was there slaine by trayte­rous Uillaines. But would Galpan, quoth the Knight, suffer ye so to doo? Yea mary Sir, replied the Prince, he is now be­come more pacient, for he hath endured the losse of his head. When the knight heard of Galpans death, he presently aligh­ted from his Horsse, and ran to kisse the Princes feete: but he would not suffer him, yet could he not hold him from em­bracing his Shéelde, saying. Ah gentle Knight, how highlye am I indebted to you? you are to this place the most wel­come man in the world, for by your meanes haue I thorow­ly [Page 34] recouered mine honor. Leaue we this talke, saide y^e Prince, and saye where I may quicklye finde some remedye for my woundes. In my house, answered the Knight, abideth a Niece of mine, who shall heale your hurtes better then any other. So riding on, they arriued at the Castell, where being dismounted, they walked into the great Hall, the Knight re­porting by the way, how Galpan had kept him from bearing Armes one whole yeere & a halfe, compelling him to change his name, and sweare to call him self while he liued, the con­quered by Galpan: but now, quoth he, séeing he is dead, mine honor is restored me againe, Afterward he caused the prince to be vnarmed, and laide in a sumptuous bed, where his woundes were dilligentlye attended by the Ladye, who assured him in shorte time to make him well againe: if he would be aduised by her councell, which he promised faith­fullye to doo.

ON the third day after the Prince left y^e Court of King Languines, where he receiued the order of Knighthood, the thrée Knightes came thither, with their wounded brother and his troth­lesse wife, of whom the discourse hath béen already recited. At their arriuall they presented him before the King, letting him vnderstand the cause of their comming, and deliuering their prisoner on the newe Knightes behalfe, to deale with her as he should thinke con­uenient. Greatly did the King meruaile at the womans disloyaltie, not imagining such wickednes could haue har­boured [Page] in her: notwithstanding, he thanked the Knight that had sent them to his Courte, yet could he not guesse who it was, for he nor any bodye else knewe that the Gentleman of the Sea was Knighted▪ but the Princesse Oriana, and the Ladies which accompanied her in the Chappell. Full soone was he aduertised of his absence from the Courte, but he thought he was gone to visite his father Gandales: then the King turning to the Knight in the Litter, saide. Me thinkes that a woman so vnfaithfull as your wife hath béene, deser­ueth not to liue. My Lord, quoth the Knight, doo therin as it shall like your maiestie: as for me, I will neuer consent that y^e thing I moste loue should dye. This said, the knights tooke their leaue of the King, carying backe againe with them their Brother in the Litter: leauing their Sister to receiue Iustice by the Kings appointmēt, who after their departure called for her and saide. Woman, thy mallice hath béene too great in respect of thy Husbands kindenes, but thou shalt be made an example to all other, that they héeraf­ter offend not in the like: and so he commaunded her to be burned aliue. The execution béeing doone, the King was in greater pensiuenes then before, because he knew not who the new Knight should be, that parted so suddenly from his Courte: but the Squire standing by, which lodged the Gen­tleman of the Sea, and afterward conducted him to the Ca­stell, where he deliuered King Perion from death, began to imagine that it was his guest, wherfore he said to the King. It may be (my Lord) a young Knight, with whome the Da­mosell of Denmarke and my selfe were certaine daies, and then we left him when we came hither. Knowest thou his name? quoth the King. No my Lord, said the Squire, but he is both yong and very beautifull: beside, I saw him doo such rare chiualrie in so little time, as in mine opinion if he liue, he will proue one of the best Knightes in the worlde. Then discoursed he at large euerye action, as also how he deliuered King Perion in the time of great danger. When the King had noted well his tale, his desire to know him encreased now more and more. My Lord, quoth the Squire, the Da­mosell [Page 35] that came hether with me, happilye can tell ye more tidinges of him, for it was my chaunce to meete them toge­ther. Of what Damosell speakest thou? saide the King. Of her, answered the Squire, that lately came from great Brit­tayne to Madame Oriana. Presently was she sent for, and he demaunded what the Knight was of whom there went such reporte. Wherupon she declared so much as she knew, chéef­lye the occasion wherfore she rode with him, and in what manner the Launce was giuen him by Vrganda, as to the only Knight in the world: But in sooth, quoth she, I knowe not his name, for neuer could I learne it of him. Ah God, saide the King, who may it be? Now was Oriana voide of all doubting, for she wel knew it was her Gentleman of the Sea, but she was so gréeued with the newes, which the Damosell of Denmarke had brought her, as well she knew not whome she might complaine to: for the King her Father sent her woord, how she should prepare her selfe in readines to come to him, so soone as his Ambassadours should be sent for her into Scotland. But much more willingly could she affoord to stay in that Countrye, then there whether she should now goe against her minde, not only in respect of her gentle vsage there, but because she imagined by béeing farre thence, she should be further from him that had the prime of her affecti­on: beside, she might there hardlye afterward heare any newes of him, but continuing in Scotland she could easilye compasse it. In these melancholly thoughts was the amou­rous Princesse, and the King (on the other side) in dayly mu­sing, what he might be that sent the foure Knightes, with the wicked woman whom the fire had consumed. But fiue or sixe dayes after these matters were thus passed, as the King was conferring w^t his Sonne Agraies, (who now stood vpon departing toward Gaule to succour the King his Unc­kle) there entred a Damosell, who falling on her knee before all the assembly, framed her speeches to Agraies in this man­ner. May it please ye my Lord, that in the presence of his highnes and this assemblye, I deliuer a message of impor­tance to ye? then taking the Helmet from her Squire, she [Page] thus procéeded. This Helmet thus broken and battered as ye see, I present ye in place of Galpans head, as a token to you from a new Knight, to whom (in my iudgement) it better belongeth to beare Armes then any other: and the cause why he sendes it to you, is, for that Galpan villainously abu­sed a damosell, that came to you on vrgent affaires. What? quoth the King, is Galpan ouercome by the hand of one man? beléeue me Damosell you tell vs meruailes. Woorthy Lord, answered she, he only of whom I speake hath doone him to death, after he had slaine all the other that resisted him in Galpans Castell: and he thinking to reuenge their foyle him selfe, combatted hand to hand with y^e Knight, but such was his bad successe, as there with dishonour he lost his head, which I would gladly haue brought to this Courte, yet doubting the corrupt sauour therof, and being otherwise ad­uised by him that sent me to my Lord Agraies, as testimony of his victorie this Helmet may suffise. Undoubtedly, said the King to all there present, it is the same Knight of whose name we are ignorant: how say you Lady, cannot you re­solue vs? My Lord, quoth she, I obtained it by excéeding im­portunitie, for otherwise he would neuer haue told me. Say then good maiden, replied the king, to ridde vs of all other doubts. He nameth him selfe, said the Damosell, the Gen­tleman of the Sea. When the king heard this, he was greatlye abashed, and so were all the other likewise, after­ward he thus spake. By my faythe, I am assuredlye per­swaded, that whosoeuer Knighted him, néede not to be a­shamed therof, seeing so long time he requested it of me, and I deferred it for occasions which I néeded not haue doon, seeing Chiualrye is in him alreadye so well accomplished. Then Agraies taking occasion to speake, demaunded of the Damosell, where he might méete with his gentle freend. My Lord, quoth she, he humblye commendeth him selfe to your good grace, giuing you to vnderstand by me, that you shall finde him at the warres in Gaule if you come thither. Good newes faire Damosell, saide Agraies haue you brought me, now am I more desirous to be gone then [Page 36] before I was: and if I may finde him there, with my good will shall I neuer leaue his companye. You haue reason so to doo, answered the Damosell, for he loueth you as becom­meth a Gentleman. Great was the ioy for these good newes of the Gentleman of the Sea, and if any one receiued displea­sure, you must think it was Oriana aboue all the rest, yet was it handled so couertlye, as the watchfullest eye could not discerne it. Now in meane while the king enquired by diuers meanes, how and by whom the Prince was knigh­ted, when at length he was aduertised, y^t the Ladies atten­ding on the Quéen, could tell better thē any body els, which with much a doo he obtained of them. Then may the Gen­tleman of the Sea, quoth he, vaunte, that he hath found more curtesie in you then in me: but the cause why I prolonged the time of his honor, was that he seemed too young for so great a charge. In this time Agraies courteouslye welcom­med the Dammosell, who beside the Helmet, deliuered him Letters from a Ladye that déerelye loued him, of whome the Historye héerafter maketh mention. But now for this present occasion, the Reader must imagine, that Agraies (without longer tarying in Scotland) is departed with his Armye, trauailing toward Gaule to his Unckle King Perion.

ABout ten daies after Agraies was de­parted the King his Fathers Courte with his troupe, three Shippes of great Brittain took porte in Scotland: wherin as cheefe was Galdar of Ras­cuit, accompanied with an hundred Knightes of King Lisuartes, as also many Ladies and Gentlewomen that came for Oriana. Béeing arriued at the Courte of King Languines, they were very graciouslye entertained, especiallye Galdar, for he was esteemed a wise and hardie Knight. After he had giuen his Maiesty to vnder­stand his ambassadge, which was harty thankes from King Lisuart his Maister, for the gentle entreataunce of y^e Prin­cesse his Daughter: he requested now to haue her home, and Mabila his Daughter with her, to whom he would doo all the honor could be deuised. Right thankfullye did King Languines accept this offer, and was contēt that his daugh­ter should go with Oriana, thence-forward to be educated in the Court of King Lisuart. Certaine daies soiourned Galdar and his train in Scotland, during which time they were most honourably feasted, and in this while the King prepared o­ther Shippes to accompanie the voyage. When Oriana saw that matters fell out in this sorte, she knew well it was im­possible longer to dissemble or tarry: wherfore as she placed all her little trifles in order, she found among her Iewelles the ware, which she had taken from the Gentleman of the Sea. This gaue her such a remembraunce of him, as y^e teares [Page 37] entred her eyes, and (through vehement loue) often wrin­ged her handes, so that the ware which she helde in them, suddenlye brake, and she espied the Letter enclosed therin, which so soon as she vnfolded, she foūd therwrittē these woor­des. This is Amadis without time, Sonne to a King. At these newes she conceiued such ioy, as quickly she left her former countenaunce, and not without cause: for she was now assured, that he who before was estéemed (at the most) but the Sonne of a simple Gentleman, or it might be of lesse, because he was vnknowne both of name and parents: the man whom she so faithfully loued, was Sonne to a King, and named Amadis, therfore without longer deferring, she called the Damosell of Denmarke to her, one whom she intirelye trusted, and thus spake. By good fréende, I will declare one thing to ye, which no other then mine owne hart and you shall knowe: therfore regarde it as the secret of such a Princesse as I am, and of the best Knight in the world beside. On my faith Madame, answered the Damo­sell, séeing it pleaseth you to honor me so much, more wil­linglye shall I dye then faile therin: and well may you be assured, that what-soeuer you disclose to me, shalbe altoge­ther kept secret, and executed to my power. Then so it is déere fréend, saide Oriana, that you must néedes goe séeke the Gentleman of the Sea, whome you shall finde at the warres in Gaule, and if you chaunce to come thither before him, there must ye of necessitie stay for him: but so soone as you see him, giue him this letter, saying he shall finde his name therin, written on the day that he was cast into the Sea, wherby I know him to be the sonne of a King, which ought inspire him with higher courage and hardines, to en­crease the fame he hath alreadye so well begun. You shall likewise tell him, how the King my Father sent for me, and therfore I am gon toward great Brittaine: which I was desirous to acquainte him withall, that when he re­turneth from the warre where he is, he should immediatly come to the place of my aboad, limitting all thinges in such [Page] sorte, as he may liue in my Fathers Courte, vntill he re­ceiue other commaundement of me. Such was the spéedye dispatche of y^e Damosell, as without longer stay she iour­nyed toward Gaule, and executed her enterprise, whereof héerafter you shall vnderstand more. But not to disconti­newe the purposed voyage of Oriana, after that Languines had prouided all things necessary for the same, Oriana, Ma­bila and their companye were embarqued: then taking leaue of the King and Quéen at the Sea side, they set saile, hauing the winde so prosperous, as in few daies they lan­ded in great Brittaine, where they were all right woorthi­ly welcommed.

Héere-of dooth the Author at this time make no more mention, because he meaneth to tell ye what happened to the Gentleman of the Sea, hauing left him at the Knightes Castell that was vanquished by Galpan, in the Damoselles charge who attended his woundes, which in fiftéene daies were almost thorowly healed. Notwithstanding, despising rest, determined to set on his waye, so that on a Sunday morning, taking leaue of his hoste and his gentle Chirur­gion: he mounted on Horsse-back, accompanied only with Gandalin who neuer would forsake him, and not farre from the Castell they entred a great Forrest. It was now about the moneth of Aprill, when the Birdes tune their notes most pleasantly, and that all Trées, Hearbs and Flowers declare the comming of the Spring time: this delightsome chaunge made him remember her, who aboue all other flowred in excellent beautye, and for whome (abandoning his libertie) Loue had taken him captiue, so that in these thoughtes he thus (somewhat loud) parled with him selfe. Ah poore Gentleman of the Sea, without parents or landes that thou canst auouch, how durst thou lift thy hart so high, as to loue her who is beyond all other in beauty, boūty and birthe? Ah wretche as thou art, oughtst thou not to consi­der by the greatnes of these thrée thinges, wherin she is most perfect: y^e best Knight in y^e world may not be so hardie [Page 38] as once to think of louing here And thou poore vnknowne, art wrapped in a labirinthe of follie, loouing and dying, not daring to tell it or make shewe therof. In this complaint was the Gentleman of the Sea so caryed away, as forgetting all other matters, he rode crosse the Forrest a long space with his Helmet closed: till at length lifting vp his head, he behelde a Knight well mounted in the wood by him, who long had kept him company to heare his sad dis­course. When the Knight saw the Prince had descryed him, and for that cause helde his peace, he approched nee­rer him, with these woordes. Beleeue me Knight, it séemes you more loue your fréend then she dooth you when in com­mending her you dispraise your selfe: and for ought I vn­derstand by your speeches, you are no such man as ought to pretend loue, therfore it is necessary I should knowe who she is, to the ende I may supplye your defect and serue her. Sir Knight, answered the Prince, you haue some reason for these speeches, yet hap what shall, you can know no more thē you doo: and I can assure ye, y^t by louing her you can get no aduauntage. So doo not I beléeue saide the knight, for a man ought to conceiue glorye in trauaile, or any danger in the seruice of so faire a Lady, seeing that in the end, he cannot but gaine his long hoped-for recom­pence: wherfore he y^t looueth in so high a place as you doo, should not be agréeued at any thing that happeneth. When the Prince heard him speake so sensiblye, imagining he vsed these woordes to comfort him: he was of better chéere, and came more néere him to continue this talke, but the knight saide. Kéepe ye back, for either by fréendship or force, you must tell me what I haue demaunded. Now trust me, answered the Prince, it shall not be so. Goe to then, quoth the knight, see what will happen theron, and defend your selfe. With right good will, saide the Prince. So gan they lace their Helmets, taking likewise their Shéelds and Launces: but as they seuered themselues for the Ioust, a Damosell came that spake in this manner. [Page] Knightes, I pray ye forbeare a while, and tel me one thing before the combate if you can: for such is my haste, as I haue no leysure to tarrye the end of your fight. At these woordes they stayed them selues, demaunding of her what she desired. I would verye faine quoth she, heare some newes of a knight, called the Gentleman of the Sea. And what would you with him? said y^e Prince. I haue brought him tidings, answered the Damosell, from Agraies Sonne to the King of Scotland. Attend a little, replied the prince, and I will tell ye so much as I know of him. All this time was the knight of the Forrest readye for the Ioust, and much offended at her that came to staye them, wherfore he called to the Prince to garde him-self, giuing him such an attainte in the encounter, as his Launce flew in péeces: but the Prince met him so full, as bothe Horsse and Man were throwen to the ground, when the Horsse (being more nimble then his maister) seeing him selfe at libertie, ran a­bout the féelde, yet the Prince found the meanes to take him againe, and bringing him to the dismounted knight, saide. Héere Sir, take your Horsse, and hence-foorth desire not to know any thing against a mans will. The knight would not refuse his gentlenes, for he found himselfe so shaken with his fall, as he could hardlye followe to catche him againe: and in meane while he assaied to remount on his horsse, the Prince left him, comming to the Damosell that staied for him, demaunding if she knew the man she enquired after. No truely, quoth she, I did neuer sée him: but Agraies tolde me, that he would p [...]esently make him selfe knowne, so soone as I should saye that I came from him. He did not deceiue yee therein, answered the Prince, therefore you must vnderstand I my selfe am the man: and with these woordes he vnlaced his Helmet, when the Damosell saw his face, she said. In trueth now doo I verily beleeue it, for your beauty I haue heard verye much com­mended Then tell me, quoth the Prince, where haue you left Agraies? Hard by a Riuer not farre hence, saide she, [Page 39] where he staieth with his troupe, attending a fit winde for passage into Gaule: and is very desirous before he goe any further, to know if you will beare him companie. With all my hart, replied the Prince, ride then before and conduct me the way. So rode he on with the damosell, and in some short time after, they came neere the place where Agraies and his Armie were encamped: but yet before they arriued there, they heard behynde them on cry: Stay Knight, for thou must tell me what I demaunded. The Prince tur­ning back, behelde the Knight whom he so lately dismoun­ted, and an other that bare him company, wherfore he stay­ed to take his Armes. Now were they so néere the Prince Agraies Campe, and he as they all might see the tourney, hauing a farre off noted the Princes comming, meruai­ling what he was that so gallantly managed his Horsse: and to saye soothe, he was (in his time) a Knight of the comlyest grace that euer was seene, and where he stroue to hide him self, he was soonest discouered, by reason of his bra­uerie in horsseman-ship. The two Knights ran together in full course againste him, breaking their Launces in pee­ces on his Shéelde: but the Prince méeting him that had the foyle in the Forrest, threw him againe from his saddle so roughly, as in the fall he brake his arme, the gréef wher­of made him lye still as if he had béene dead. When he per­ceiued he was so well rid of one, he drew his Swoord, and came to the other, giuing him such a stroke on his Helmet, as the Swoord entring in, he pulde it back with such force, that the laces brake, wherby he brought it quite from his head vpon his swoord: then he lifted vp his arme to haue smitten him, but the Knight quickly clapt his Shéelde be­fore. In meane while the Prince got his Swoord into his lefte hand, which he could doo verye hardlye and with his right hand tooke holde on his enemies Sheeld, renting it violently from about his neck, and afterward gaue him such a blowe on the head, as in great amazemente he fell to the ground. Thus did he leaue him there with his com­panion, [Page] and rode with the Damosell to the Tentes of Agraies: who hauing seene the conclusion of this quarrell, meruailed what he was that had so soone ouercome two knights, therfore whē he came towards him, he went forth to meete him, and so soone as they knew eche other, you need make no doubt of their kinde salutations. Soone after the Prince alighted, and by Agraies was conducted into his Tent to be vnarmed, but firste he gaue commaunde­ment, that the Knightes dismounted in the feeld should be brought thither, where they were no sooner arriued, but Agraies thus spake to them. Beléeue me my fréendes, you attempted great folly to meddle with this knight. You say true my Lord, answered he whose arme was broken, yet once to daye I saw him in such plight, as I little thought of any such resistance. Afterward he declared all y^e happened in the Forrest, and the communication they had together: yet he omitted the Princes complaintes, because he stood in feare to displease him. During the repetition of these matters, the pacience of the one and boldenes of the other, was entercoursed among them, and all that day they so­iourned there, but on the morrow morning they mounted on horsse-back, shaping their course to Palingues, a right good Cittie on the frontiers, and the vtmoste parte of Scot­land, where they found Shipping, and embarqued them­selues toward Gaule. The winde seruing according to their desire, in fewe dayes they landed in the hauen of Gal­frin, and marching thence in séemely order, without any hinderaunce they came to the Castell of Baldain, where King Perion was besieged, hauing already lost great num­ber of his people. When he was aduertised of this succour, you must imagine him comforted therby, and their wel­come to be good and gracious: chéefely by the Quéene Eli­sena, who hauing knowledge of their arri [...]all, sent to in­treat her Nephew Agraies to come visit her: which he did, béeing accompanied with the King and the Gentleman of the Sea, and two other knightes of good account. But you [Page 40] must note, that king Perion knew not the Prince at the first sight, yet at the length he called him to remēbraunce, that it was the same man whom he had Knighted, and af­ter-ward saued his life at the Castell, wherfore thus he spake. By déere fréend, on my faith I had forgotten ye, you are most welcome to this place, for your presence giueth me assurance, that I néed feare this warre no further, hauing the only Knight of the world so néere me. Dread Lord, an­swered the Prince, God giue me grace to serue you accor­dingly, for perswade your selfe, that while these troubles endure, I will make no spare of my person. As thus they deuised, they entred the Queens Chamber, when the King taking the Prince by the hand, presented him to her saying. Madame, this is the good knight of whom here-to­fore I tolde ye, he defended me from the greatest daunger that euer I was in: and therfore I pray ye let no spare of curtesie be made to him héere, but giue him the best enter­tainement the time will affoorde. The Queene auaunced her selfe to embrace him, but he fell on his knée with these woordes. I am seruant (Madame) to the Quéen your sister, and from her I come to serue you, with like obedience as to her owne person. Right graciously did the good Lady giue him thankes, yet little thought she that he was her sonne, for she imagined the Sea had deuoured him: yet was the Princes presence at that very instant so pleasing to her, as her eyes could not be satisfied with beholding him, and (through a secret moouing of nature) she wished more good to him thē any in the troupe. At this time likewise was her remembraunce sollicited, with the former losse of her two Children, whose yéeres she thought would haue equalled the Princes, if God had preserued thē, and these occasions vrged the teares into her eyes. Thus wept she for h [...]m that nature touched her withall, & yet vnknowen was in her presence, but when the Prince behelde her so sorrowfull, he reputed it to the reason of the warre begun, wherfore he saide. Madame, I hope with the aide of God, your King, [Page] and the fresh supply we haue brought: in short time to re­couer your ioye, and for mine owne parte, trust me I will make no spare. Heauen prosper ye, answered the Quéene, with happy successe, and for you are the Quéene my sisters knight, I will that ye prouide no other lodging, but abide heere with vs, and all thinges shall be appointed for ye to your owne contentment. Such was their conference toge­ther, vntill Agraies would goe refreshe him selfe, wherfore taking leaue for y^e night, he went to his lodging where it was prouided: and gladly would the Prince haue followed him, but the Queene with-helde him by such importu­nitie, as he was constrained now to remaine in his vn­knowne mothers custodie.

Right soon was the newes of this fresh succour, brought to King Abies of Ireland and Daganel his Cozin, who made verye small account therof, because (in those times) was king Abies accounted for one of the best knightes that euer was heard of, and in respect of his hotte desire to the fight, determined (séeing new aide was come to his enemy) very quickly to bid him battaile, and for this cause he said before all his people there present. If King Perion were so gentle a companion as to come sée vs, I had rather he would doo it to day then to morrow. Assure your selfe, answered Daga­nel, he is nothing so hastie as I thinke: for he feareth you too much, albeit he maketh little shewe therof. Know you, saide Gallin Duke of Normandie, by what meanes we may therto constraine him? First let vs make an ambushe of the greater parte of our Armie, which shall remaine with the King in this Forrest of Baldain, thē you Lord Daganel and my selfe will goe with the rest, to present our selues at break of daye before the Cittie: and I am certain that be­ing discryed by our enemies, who imagining our strength is altogether, will take hart, and not faile to come running foorth vpon vs. When we sée them approche, we wil dissem­ble a timerous feare, and take our flight toward the For­rest, where shall abide the King with his companie: then [Page 41] our enemies pursuing assured victorie in their own conceit, will séeke aduantage by our shamefull retire, and so be taken themselues in the snare. Uerie well haue you adui­sed, answered King Abies, do you your selfe worthie Duke giue order, that all things be done as you haue appointed. Now might yée there behold armed men on horssebacke, the Souldiours mustering, the Drommes thundering and the Trompets cheerefully sounding, as in one instant matters were so well ordered, that the Kings commaun­dement fayled in nothing: whereupon the next morning at the breake of day, Daganel and the Duke of Norman­dye, shewed themselues with their Squadron before the Towne. Little did King Perion at that time thinke of any such enterprise, but altogether refreshed his succour, and honored the Prince by whome he had found such friend­ship. And to make some shew of his affection toward him, in the morning he came with his Queene to the Princes Chamber, where they found him washing his hands, and perceiuing his eyes red, swollen, & blubbered with teares, they easily gathered he had taken no good rest that night: and very true it was, for continually he thought of her, whose loue had depriued him of libertie, and likewise com­pared therewithall, the slender meanes he had to attaine so high, which made him enter into such profound grief, as he expected no other remedie then death. The Quéene de­sirous to knowe the cause of his sadnesse, tooke Gandalin a­side, thus speaking to him. My friend, your Maisters countenance bewrayeth some inward displeasure, hath any one héere offended him in ought? No Madame, an­swered Gandalin, he hath by your Maiestie receiued great honor: but he is wont to be tormented in sléepe as you see. During these discourses, the Sentinell came to aduertise the King, how he had discoucred the ambushe, and the e­nemyes were very néere the Cittie, wherefore presently he commaunded to dorayne the Armie. Now was eache one readie to horssebacke, especially the King and the Prince, [Page] who went directly to the Cittie gate, where they founde Agraies chiding, because they would not let him goe foorth, thinking he should tarry too long from the fight: for he was one of the hardyest Knights, and the best to giue assistance in neede that could be found, so that if good aduise had béene as readie with him, as he was possessed of vnconquerable courage, his like might not haue béen found in the world. At the Kings comming the gates were suddenly opened, and then went foorth the men of Gaule in order, who séeing their enemyes to be so great a number, albeit the whole Armie was not there: the greater part of them was min­ded to goe no further, reputing it ouer-much boldnes to as­saile such an vnequall strength, and therefore arose among them a murmuring contestation. Which Agraies percei­uing, without further trifling, gaue the spurres to his horsse, crying aloud, Beshrowe him that taryeth any lon­ger: séeing them he is to deale withall, shall we not ven­ter? So saying, he gallopped toward his enemies, in like manner did the Gentleman of the Sea and the rest of their traine, who without any order of marching, ranne among them, and were immediately mingled together. He whome the Prince first met withall, was the Duke of Norman­dye, whome he charged so couragiously, as breaking his Launce on him, ouerthrewe both man and horsse to the earth, and with this rough fall his legge was broken. So passed on the Prince setting hand to Sword, and as a cha­sed Lion entred the preasse, shewing such déedes of Armes, as none durst withstand him: for he ouerthrewe all that encountred him, killing some out-right, chyming and dis­membring others, so that euery one was glad to giue him way. When Daganel sawe his men in such disorder by the meanes of one Knight, he got the most of them together so well as he could, and round about beset the Prince to beat him downe: which they had done, but that Agraies percei­uing it, came with his troupe to reskue him. At their arri­uall you might behold Launces broken, Knights tumbling [Page 42] downe, helmets rent, & Shéelds scattered on the ground, making a great conflicte & disorder among the Irish-men, for King Perion likewise came fresh vpon them with his band. Daganel (on the contrary side) did the best he could to retire backe, but the Gentleman of the Sea was among the thickest, shewing such chiualrie, as he found before him not any resistance, each one was so abashed at his behauiour: and Agraies aboue the rest, shewed that his arme was not benommed, for the more to harten and chéere vp his men, he cryed aloud to them: follow my friends, follow the best Knight that euer bare Armes. When Daganel saw his side to haue the worst, and what great domage he receiued by the Prince, he determined to kill his horsse, and so to make him fall among the crowde: but he was deceiued, for the Prince comming to him, let fall so mightie a stroke on his Helmet, as rent it cleane from off his head, and so remay­ned Daganel vnarmed. Which when King Perion espied, he reached him such a salutation with his Sword, as cleft his head through the verie braines: whereupon his men séeing him slaine, they that had the best horsses fled away for life, and stayed not till they saued themselues where King A­bies was ambushed. But King Perion still pursuing victo­rie, discouered the rere-guard that came from the Forrest, marching in very great haste toward him, shewing by their countenance a reuenge of their losse, wherefore ioyning to­gether, they cryed: Set on them men of Ireland, see that none of them escap [...]s, but let vs enter pel mel in the field. When the Gaules found themselues thus surprized, neuer were people more astonished, for they imagined the am­bush had not béene so great: and which most of all affrigh­ted them, was, that they must now deale with fresh and lustie mē, themselues being sore wearyed, & their horsses so ouer-laboured, as they could hardly endure their burthen. Beside, they knewe King Abies was there in person, being (as you heard before) accounted one of the best Knights in the world: and for this cause the most part of the Gaules [Page] began to tremble But the Gentleman of the Sea fore-seeing the disorder was like to ensue, came and perswaded them, rather to dye then loose one [...]ote of their honor and reputa­tion, saying: My friends and companyons, be of good chéere, each one make knowne his vertue, and remember the e­steeme the Gaules haue gotten by Armes. We are to deale with people astonned and halfe ouercome, let vs not make chaunge with them, taking their feare, and deliuering our victorie: for if they but only behold your resolued counte­nances, I am certain they are not able to endure ye, let vs thē enter among them, for God is our defender. At these words the most dishartened tooke courage, concluding to stay and fight manly with their enemyes, who soone after in great fury set vppon them. Now did King Abies make known his magnanimity, and hardly could Prince Agraies men endure the assault, nor the squadron that King Perion brought: for King Abies maimed some, other he ouerthrew, and while his Launce held, he dismounted euery Knight that met with him. Afterward he layd hand to Sword, wherewith he caryed himselfe so valiantly, as the hardyest were amazed thereat, for he made way where euer he came: so that King Perions men, not able longer to hold out, began to retire so fast as they could toward the Citie. When the Gentleman of the Sea sawe that fortune was so contrary to thē, in great despight he entred the throng, and fought so fiercely, as the most part of the Irish-men were glad to stay, while the Gaules without disorder reti­red toward the Castell, then turning his horsse, he follo­wed them. To defend this brunt, there was also King Pe­rion, and the Prince Agraies, who deliuered testimonie to their enemyes (by the kéene edge of their Swords) how well they knewe to gouerne themselues in such extremi­ties: notwithstanding, the Irish-men séeing they had the better, still pursued them with eager courage, driuing them confusedly into the Citie, hoping that now would be the end of their warre. Such was the retire of the Gaules, still [Page 43] more and more pressed by their enemyes, as doubtlesse the Irish had entred the Cittie after them, but that they were hindered by King Perion, Agraies, and the Prince, who wholly did repulse the throng, till their people by them were gotten in. But now was tidings brought to King Abies, that his Cozin Daganel and Gallin Duke of Norman­dye were slaine, whereat he wexed verie displeasant: and séeing King Perion with his people were enclosed in the Cittie, he resolued to take leysure for his reuenge, wherein he was deceiued, for soone after he was very strongly repul­sed, which made him almost mad with anger. And as he thus raged vp and downe, one of his Knights shewed him the Prince, saying: My Lord, he whome you see mounted on the white Horsse, is the man that slew Prince Daganel and the Duke of Normandye, with many other the best in your Army. When King Abies heard that, he rode to the Prince with these words: Knight, thou hast slaine the man whome most I loued in the world: but if thou wilt combat, I hope to be reuēged so well, as I shall haue cause to be quit with thée. Your men, answered y^e Prince, are too little trauailed to meddle with ours, notwithstanding, if thou wilt (as a Knight) reuenge him thou louedst, and de­clare the great hardines for which thou art renowmed: chuse of thy men such as thou shalt like, and I (if it please the King) will do as much of mine, for being equall in number, thou shalt gaine more honor then with so great an Armie, which thou hast brought into this countrey with­out iust occasion. Beléeue me, quoth the King, thou talkest well, go to, chuse thou thy selfe the number of men, how many or fewe thou thinkest good. Séeing you leaue it in my choise, replyed the Prince, I will make an other offer, which (it may be) you will account more conuenient. You are mine enemy for that which I haue done, and I yours for the wrong you haue done to this Realme, so for our se­uerall cause of anger, it is not reasonable any other then our selues should suffer: let then the battaile be betweene [Page] you and me only, and presently (if you wil) without longer dallying, yet shall you assure me from your men, as I will do you frō mine, so y^• none shall moue, whether the one or the other be vanquished. Right well, said King Abies, do I allow of thy offer: whereupon he chose ten Knights on his part to gard the féeld. And as the Prince laboured to gaine the like of the King, with his consent, he found King Perion and Agraies somewhat loath to graunt the Combate: as well for the consequence that might ensue, as also because the Prince was much wearyed and sore wounded beside, wherefore they intreated him to deferre the matter till the day following. But the desirous affection he had to be con­querour, as also to make a finall conclusion of the warre, that he might returne vnder her obeysaunce, from whome he came to serue King Perion: would not suffer him to make any longer delay, of the glory and honor which he sawe so néere at hand. For this cause he vsed so many per­swasions to the King, as in the ende he was graunted the Combate, and on his side likewise were ten Knightes ap­pointed, for his guard and safetie in the féeld.

YOu haue heard in what manner the Combate was accorded betwéene King Abies and the Gentleman of the Sea, and now alreadie is the greatest part of y^e day spent: where­fore it was agréed by the Lords on either side, (very much against the willes of the two Combatants) that all should be deferred till the [Page 44] morrow morning: as well that they might refresh them­selues, and repaire their battered Armour, as also for re­garding such woundes, as they had receiued in the passed encounters. Heereupon the two Kings withdrewe them­selues, the one to his Campe, and the other to his Castell. But such is the bruite spred through the Citty, what wor­thie exploits the Gentleman of the Sea had done: as he could not passe by them, but thus they spake with generall voyce. Ah famous Knight, God giue thée grace to procéed as thou hast begun: impossible is it to finde a Gentleman, so accomplished with beautie and chiualrie as he is, for our eyes are iudges of the one, and our enemyes full well haue felt the other. But you must note, that in the morning when they went to the féeld, the King had giuen the Queen in charge, that so soone as the Prince returned from the warre, she should send one of her Ladyes to him, requesting him not to be vnarmed in any other place then in her Chamber: wherefore as he went néere the Kings lodging, the Lady came vnto him, saying. Sir Knight, the Queene desires you not to be els-where vnarmed, but in her Cham­ber, where she stayeth your comming. In sooth, saide the King, you must néedes graunt this request, and I desire it may be so. The Prince condiscending, went where the Quéene stayed with her Ladyes, and no sooner was he en­tred, but presently the Ladyes holpe to vnarme him: yet the Quéene her selfe tooke the greatest paine of all, and as she had off his coate of Mayle, she perceiued he was sore wounded, which she shewing to the King, he said. I mer­uaile Gentleman, séeing you are so hurt, that you tooke no longer time for your Combate. It had béene needlesse, an­swered the Prince, for I haue no wound (I thanke God) that can kéepe me from the Combate, Right soone were the Chirurgions commaunded to looke thereon, and they found it greater in shewe then daunger. In the meane while supper was prepared, during which time, they had much talke of the accidents that day past: vntill the houre [Page] of rest came, when each one departed till the next morning. Which being come, after they had serued God, the King sent a rich and goodly Armour to the Prince, of better proofe and strength then that he had on the day before: where­with he armed himselfe, and hauing taken leaue of euery one, mounted on horsseback in company of the King, Who bare his Helmet, the Prince Agraies his Sheeld (wherein was portrayed two azured Lyons in a golden féeld, ram­pant the one against the other, as if they both intended murder,) and an other Prince carryed his Launce. In this equipage he set forward to the féeld, where the King of Ireland attended his comming, well armed, and mounted on a goodly black Courser: but because King Abies had in former time fought hand to hand with a Giant, and van­quished him with the losse of his head, therefore he brought to the Combate the like figure in his Sheeld, describing the whole order as the deede was done. On either side resorted thither a number of people, placing themselues for most conuenient sight of the Combate. And now were the Champions entred the lysts, each one couragiously resol­uing against his enemy, wherefore without longer tary­ing, lacing downe the sight of their Helmets, and com­mending themselues to God: they gaue the spurres to their horsses, meeting together so furiously, both with launce, bodie and horsse, as their staues flew in shiuers, yet piercing their Armour, and both were laid along in the feeld. But heate of hart and desire of conquest, made them recouer footing quickly, and plucking foorth the spields of their launces wherewith they were wounded: set hand to Sword, beginning such a strange and cruell fight, as each one was amazed to sée them endure so much. For this fight was not equally matched, in respect the Prince was but young, well proportioned, and of reasonable height: but King Abies was so great, as he neuer found any Knight y^• excéeded him a handfull euery way, being (with­all, so strongly made, that he was rather to be accounted [Page 45] a Giant then a man: yet was he highly loued and reue­renced of his subiects, for the vertue and prowesse which remained in him, albeit he was too much audacious and prowd. Now were these Champions so animated against each other, as well for honor, as the consequence of the Combat, that without any stay for breathing they layd on such loade, as their strokes resounded the fight of twen­tie men together. And well they witnessed no great good will betwéene them, for there might ye sée the earth tain­ted with their blood, the pieces of their Sheelds, the plate of their Armour scattered abroade, and their Helmets so bruised: that by reason their Armes being so squandered, they were vnable to hold out their strokes, for euery blow caused the blood to gushe out aboundantly, yet were they of such inuincible courage, as they seemed to féele none of this annoyance. Héereupon they mainteined such brauerie the one against the other, as it could not be iudged who had the better or worsse: notwithstanding, about the hour of thrée, the Sunne gaue an excéeding warme and violent heate, whereby they found themselues so chafed in their Armour, as they began to waxe somewhat féeble: especi­ally King Abies, in so much as he was constrained to retire back, thus speaking to the Prince. I sée thee very neere fal­ling, and my selfe am likewise out of breath, if thou thinke it good, let vs rest awhile, for afterward we may more easi­ly finish our enterprise. And thus much I tell thée, (al­though I haue no cause or desire to fauour thée) that I hold better opinion of thée, then any Knight that euer I combatted withall: moreouer, it displeaseth me that I had any occasion to sée thee, and much more that I am so long in conquering thée, whereby I might take vengeance for his death whome most I loued in the world, & as thou didst sie y hym in open battaile, so likewise will I ouercome thée in sight of both our Camps. King Abies, replied the Prince, I now perceiue it displeaseth thee that thou canst do me no more harme, entring so like a Tirant as thou [Page] didst to ruinate this countrey. And as it often happeneth, that he which delighteth in euill, can neuer brooke any o­ther sauour: so hope I to reward thee so wel for thy paines, as thou shalt confesse thou hast wronged these people. Be­side, thus much I aduise thee before hand, that I shall giue thee as little leisure or respite, as thou hast giuen thē who haue tasted thy crueltie: therefore stick close to thy tack­ling, and defend thy selfe against the Knight whome thou reputest fayling. The King then taking his Sword, and what was left of his Shéeld, thus answered. Well mayst thou cursse the boldnes that made thee enter these Ly [...]tes, for hence thou shalt not escape without losse of thy head. Do what thou canst, sayd the Prince, for thou shalt rest no more, till thou or thine honor be dead. Heerewith more cruelly then before they began againe their combate, as if they had but euen then entred the féeld, and albeit King Abies was so expert, by reason of his long exercise in Armes, that he knew right well how to defend and offend: neuerthelesse the lightnes, hardines, and promptitude of the Prince, made him in the end forget all his industrie, for he was so closely followed at an inche, as he lost alto­gether the rest of his Shéeld, by which meanes the Prince could endomage him farre better then before: whereof he failed not, and in so many places withall, that the blood streamed downe his Armour in meruailous aboundance, causing him by little and little to loose his strength, and be­ing in this agony, staggering from one side to another, he could not deuise what to do, to escape the pursuing sword of his enemy. Seeing himselfe now deuoyd of all hope, he concluded either soone to dye or haue the victorie, and ta­king his Sword in both hands, he ran with all his might against the Prince, and pierced it so farre into his Shéeld, as he was not able to pull it foorth againe. Which when the Prince beheld, he gaue him such a furious stroke on the left leg, that being quite cut from the rest, the King was enforced to fall downe: and right soone did the Prince set [Page 46] foote vppon him, tearing violently his Helmet from his head saying. Thou art dead King Abies, if thou doest not yéeld thy selfe vanquished. Beleeue me I am dead, answe­red the King, not vanquished alone, but of both the one and other, my ouer-wéening hath beene the only cause. Not­withstanding, since it is so come to passe, I pray thee let assurance be giuen to my Souldiours▪ that without iniu­rie they may carry me into my Countrey, and dying like a Christian, I may pay my debt both to God & men. Faine would I haue councell for my ouer-burdened soule, then afterward shall I render to King Perion what I vsurped from him. And as for thée who hast vanquished me, I de­spise not to dye by the valiaunce of so gentle a Knight as thou art: but with all my heart pardon thée my death, wishing thou mayst continue honorable, and yet héereaf­ter to remember me. When the Prince sawe him in such debilitie, he was excéeding sorrowfull for his death, al­though he knew assuredly, that if he had woon the glory of the combat, he would haue dealt much worsse with him. During these spéeches, the Knights appointed on each side came to them, wherefore King Abies commaunded his Captaines, to render King Perion what he had conquered in Gaule: which was accomplished, and by these meanes the Irish-men had assurance to carry home their King, who dyed soone after order was giuen for their affaires. These matters thus ended, King Perion, Agraies, and all the Lords of Gaule came to y^e Prince, accompanying him with great ioy from the féeld into the Cittie, euen with such tri­umphant glorie as to Conquerours is accustomed: who by their prowesse not only ouercome their enemies, but re­store the countrey that is wel-néere ruynated.

Now must ye vnderstand, that a little before the begin­ning of the Combat, the Damosell of Denmarke who came from faire Oriana to the Prince, was arriued at King Pe­rions Court: and before she would make her selfe knowne, she desired to behold the issue of the fight. Afterward, ha­uing [Page] séene him she searched was so honorably returned, she shewed herselfe, and taking him aside, said. Sir Knight, may it please ye to heare a word in secret, of such matter as doth verie néere concerne ye? Euen what you will, an­swered the Prince: with which words he tooke her by the hand, and kéeping her from the throng, she thus spake. The Princesse Oriana who is only yours, hath sent me to you and this Letter withall, wherein you shall find your name written. When he heard her named, by the remem­brance of whome only he liued, he was so perplexed, that without vnderstanding what else the Damosell said: ha­uing taken the Letter, he let it fall, being readie himselfe to beare it companie, which the Damosell séeing, she tooke vp the Letter and came to him againe. Euery one that be­helde him in these passions, meruayled what newes she brought to procure this alteration: but she puld him by the arme so roughly, as made him forget his former traunce, thus speaking. What now my Lord? take you the message in so ill part, that commes from the only Lady in the world, and who aboue all other loueth you? for whose sake likewise I haue taken so great paine to finde you? Ah Lady, quoth he, on my faith I knew not what ye sayd to me, for euen as you began to speake, I felt the paine to renewe in me, which héeretofore you haue séene me endure. It is true, said the Damosell, but now it is néedlesse for ye to conceale your selfe any longer frō me, for I knowe more of your affaires and my Ladyes, then you imagine, because her selfe hath bewrayed them to me. And if you beare her affection, you néede not be ashamed thereof, in that she loueth you beyond all other: in respect whereof, she telleth you by me, that she must goe to the King her Father, requesting after your departure from this warre, you would come see her in great Brittayne, ap­pointing all things in such order, as at your arriuall you may remayne there in the Court, vntill more amply you vnderstand her mind. Beside she gaue me charge to tell [Page 47] ye, how she certainely knowes you are Sonne to a King, wherewith she is no lesse pleased then she thinks you will be: and seeing (being ignorant of your linage) you haue proued so good a Knight, now vnderstanding your nobili­tie, you should labour to encrease your fame if you can. And then againe she gaue him the Letter, saying. Take héere the Letter wherein your name is written, and which you had hanging about your neck, at such time as you were found in the Sea. The Prince tooke the Letter, and when he looked on it, remembring to what good purpose his Lady had taken it from him, fetching a vehement sigh, somewhat softly he thus spake. Ah happy Letter, most di­uinely wast thou found, in respect thou hast béene kept by her who hath my hart in her custodie, and for whome I haue so often assayed to dye, yet cannot. For thinking on her perfection, I séeke to augment it by strength and com­mendation, but of so slender valew is my puissance found: that striuing thereby to gaine her fauour, the least paine I feele surpasseth a thousand deathes, which neuerthelesse are now recompenced by this present benefit. O highest God, when shall I sée the time, wherein I may giue her to vn­derstand, how great my deuotion is to obey her by some agréeable seruice? Hauing finished these words, he opened the Letter, and saw his name written therein, which was Amadis: then thus spake the Damosell againe to him. I was charged Sir, so soone as I had done my message, to returne with all spéede to her that sent me to you, whereby she might vnderstand some newes of you, therefore be­thinke your selfe if you will commaund me any thing. You shall not depart (so please you) in such haste answered the Prince, but stay with me two or three dayes: during which time, for what occasion so euer it be, you shall not forsake me, and then will I conduct ye whether you please. In obeying you, replyed the Damosell, I trust I do ser­uice to my Lady Oriana. Their talke thus breaking off, he returned to the King and Agraies, who stayed for him at [Page] the entrance of the Cittie, where the people were wonder­fully assembled in the stréetes. Then came the Quéene with her Ladyes and Gentlewomen to vnarme him, and the Chirurgions to visite his wounds, which when they had regarded, albeit they were many and yrksome to be­hold, yet were they to be healed without any great danger of his person. For this night the King desired that he and Agraies would sup with him, but the Prince making ex­cuse by his wounds, went to his Chamber, willing to haue no other company then the Damosell: to whome he did all the honor could be deuised, hoping through her to finde remedie for part of his griefes. This Damosell soiourned with him certaine time, and in respect of the good newes she brought him, no wound could hinder him from visiting the great Hall, there walking and conferring with euery one: but most with her whome he caused to stay, atten­ding his disposition till he might beare Armes. And be­tweene them happened a straunge occasion, which was cause of his longer aboade in Gaule then he expected: so that the Damosell returned to Oriana without him, as you heereafter shall vnderstand.

IN the beginning of this Historie it hath béene recited, how King Perion gaue his Quéene Elisena, being then in little Brittayne, a King like ano­ther that commonly he wore, and these two Kings were of such an v­niforme, as there was no difference to bee discerned betwéene them. Likewise you haue vnderstood, how [Page 48] when the young Prince was put vpon the water, this King was fastened about his neck, which Gardal [...], kept▪ till time he sent it by the Damosell (a little before he was Knighted) with the Sword and the ware. Now had the King sundry times demaunded of the Queene for the King, who made him diuers doubtfull answers, and in the end said she had lost it. But it came to passe, that as the Prince walked with Orianaes Damosell, which commonly he was wont to doo, young Melicia daughter to King Pe­rion, passed by him weeping, when the Prince stayd her, saying. Faire friend, why wéepe ye? Ah my Lord, quoth the Princesse, I haue euen now lost a King, which the King my Father gaue me to kéepe while he slept. Wéepe not so faire Uirgin, answered the Prince, you shall haue another of me to giue him: so taking his owne King from his finger, he gaue it her. When she beheld it, thinking it was the same she had lost, she said. A my Lord, you haue found it, wherewith I am not a little glad, for I haue all this while sought it. What now? quoth the Prince, this is not your King. In mine opinion it is, answered Melicia, or the only thing of the world that most resembles it. So much the better, said the Prince, for more easily will it be iudged the same you lost. Héerewith went Melicia to the Kings chamber, and finding him awake, he asked her for his King, then gaue she him the same she had of y^e Prince, which the King put on his finger, thinking it was his owne. But soone after as he walked through the Gallarie, he espied in a corner lying the other King, which he gaue his daughter before to keepe, and taking it vp, he compa­red them together: whereupon he remembred, that one of these two was the same he sometime gaue the Quéene, so he asked of Melicia where she had the King. The young Princesse affrayd of beating, durst not lye, but thus aun­swered. My Lord and Father, your King I lost, and as I searched for it, I met with the Gentleman of the Sea: who because he sawe me wéepe, gaue me one of his, which I de­liuered [Page] you in stead of your owne, and if that be not it, I knowe not where it is. When the King heard this, he pre­sently conceiued suspition betweene his Quéene and the Prince, imagining in respect of his beautie, how she was fallen into some dishonest liking of him, and therefore had giuen that token. Héereupon he went to the chamber where she was, and shutting the dore, sate downe by her, not speaking one word a good space, but silently fixed his eyes on the ground: then breathing foorth a passionate sigh, he said. I will not meruaile any longer Madame, why you would neuer make me any certaine answere, when I demaunded for the King I gaue ye in little Brit­tayne: you haue lost it in such a place, where you would be loth I should knowe of it, but hardly can you conceale af­fection, when it procéedeth to such effects. The Gentleman of the Sea inconsiderately gaue it to Melicia, little thinking that it came at the first from me: and thereby do I know what he suspecteth not, and your selfe would I should not vnderstand. When the Quéene (who alreadie by his coun­tenance sawe he was troubled) heard what he had said, she now determined not to dissemble with him in any thing, but summarily made a true discourse of hir child-birth. And (not without teares) she recounted to him, how stan­ding in feare of the King her Father, as also the seuere lawe vsed in his Kingdome, she was constrained to com­unt her Sonne to the mercie of the Sea, and in his cradle coffin put with him, both the King, Sword, and what else hath béen already declared. Confounded was the King with meruaile when he heard the whole trueth, and pre­sently imagined that the Prince might be his first Sonne, whome God had so miraculously preserued, wherefore he sayd to the Quéene. According to your circumstances re­uealed, it may be, that he who is vnknowne to vs, is our Sonne, and the rather I coniecture so by the name he bea­reth of the Sea. Ah God, said the Queene, may it fall out so happily? I beseech ye my Lord, send presently for him, [Page 49] and we will desire him to tell vs of whence he is. Let vs goe then, quoth the King, to seeke him. So went they to his chamber, where they found him sléeping, wherefore (without making any noyse) he approching neere the bed, espied his Sword, which he tooke, and after he had well viewed it, knew it to be the same he esteemed so much, and wherewith he had finished many famous aduentures, whereupon he said to the Quéene. On my faith, this is the Sword I left in the chamber of the King your Father, the first night we were acquainted together, and now do I the better beleeue what you haue said vnto me. Ah God, sayd the Quéene, let vs suffer him sléepe no longer, for my heart cannot endure this weightie burden: heerewith she tooke him by the hand and awaked him, saying. My Lord, sléepe no more at this time, for other occasions calleth you. Easi­ly was the Prince raysed from sléepe, but when he behelde the Quéene wéeping, as one amazed thereat, he said. Ma­dame, from what occasion procéede these teares? is there any thing I may do ye seruice in, to remedy them? Noble friend, quoth the Quéene, you only may quallifie my griefs by your words, in telling vs whose Sonne you are. So God help me Madame, answered the Prince, I know not, for by strange aduenture was I found in the Sea. The good Lady was then so ouercome with ioy, as not only spéeche, but vitall sence was taken from her, and she fell downe in a swoune: which the Prince perceiuing, quickly ran to recouer her, saying. What ayle ye Madame? fur­ther could he not imagine on the cause of this alteration. Ah my Sonne, quoth she, now knowe I better then thy selfe who thou art. The King likewise was so caryed away with ioy and admiration, as he stood not able to speake a word: now was it hard to iudge, which of these three felt greatest contentation, but the mother throwing her armes about the Princes neck, said. Now may I boldly dare to kisse thée in safetie, hauing beene so long depriued of thy sight and knowledge: highly am I beholding to the diuine [Page] bountie, who hath fauoured the offence I committed through feare, which was, in deliuering thee to the cour­tesie of the waters, and sée heere thy Kingly Father that begot thee. With these words the Prince fell at their féete, extreame ioy reducing the teares into his eyes, and all to­gether praised God for this good aduenture: especially the Prince, because he had beene preserued in so great danger, and now at length to finde such honor and good hap, as to méete with his Parents, being all this while vnknowen to them. As thus they deuised on the fortunes passed, the Queene demaunded of him if he had no other name, then that which now he called himselfe by? Yes Madame, quoth he, but it is not fully three dayes past since I knew thereof, for as I came from the Combate against King Abies, a Damosell brought me a Letter which I haue, and (as she saith) was fastened about my neck, being wrapped in ware, when I was found in the Sea, wherein I finde that my name is Amadis: and héere-withall he shewed the Letter to the Quéene, which she full well knewe so soone as she sawe it. Beleeue me, sayd the Queene, this truely is the Letter that Darioletta wrote, when she made the se­peration betweene you and me: thus though I was ere while in great griefe and sorrow, yet now (praised be God) I feele as much ioy and pleasure. Now seeing assuredly your name is Amadis, it is needlesse you should beare any other contrary title: so thence forward he was called no more the Gentleman of the Sea, but Amadis, and sometime Amadis of Gaule. It was not long before the bruite héere­of was spread through the Cittie, that the good and fa­mous Knight was Sonne to King Perion and the Queene Elisena: wherefore if euery one reioysed, you must thinke the Prince Agraies was not sory, for they were found to be Cozin germaines. Among the rest, the Damosell of Den­marke had knowledge heer-of, wherefore considering what comfort this would be to the Princesse Oriana, she laboured so much as she could to returne toward her: knowing she [Page 50] would giue her friendly countenance, bringing her so good newes, what gracious fortune had happened to him whome aboue all other she loued. For this cause she in­treated Amadis, to dispatch her returne to hir Mistresse: In that I well perceiue, quoth she, you cannot so speedily depart hence as you would, nor were it reasonable, but you should giue some contentation to them, who for the loue of you haue shead so many teares. These words cau­sed the teares to tricle downe his cheekes, yet smothering his griefe so well as he could, he made this answere to the Damosell. Lady, I will pray that the heauens may safely conduct ye, yet let me intreate your friendly remem­brance, commaunding the vttermost of my endeuours, for without your gentle care my life cannot endure: withall, I finde my selfe so indebted to my gracious mistresse, as I dare not request any thing at her hand. Neuer-the-lesse you may say to her, that right soone shall I come to shewe my obedience, and in like armour will I be clad, as when you sawe me Combat with the King of Ireland: because both she and you may the more easily knowe me, if I can not compasse the meane to spake with you, and in this manner departed the Damosell of Denmarke. On the o­ther side, Agraies seeing his Cozin Amadis was to remaine longer in Gaule, determined to take his leaue, and calling him aside, said. Faire Cozin, for this time I must be en­forced to leaue ye, albeit your company is more pleasing to me then any other: but my passionate hart will allowe me no quiet, vntill I be with her, who both farre and neere hath power to commaund me. It is Madame Oli­uia, daughter to the King Vanain of Norway, who sent for me (by the Damosell that brought me the Helmet of Gal­pan, which you sent me in reuenge of the dishonor she re­ceiued by him) that I should come to her with all conueni­ent speede: and therefore I neither may or dare faile, which is the only cause of my parting with you. Now must you note heerewithall, that at the time as Don Galuanes, bro­ther [Page] to the King of Scotland, was in the Realme of Nor­way with Agraies his Cozin: this young Prince became so enamoured of the Lady Oliuia, as he concluded neuer to loue any other then her, and this made him the more ear­nest to depart by her commandement. And to tell ye what this Galuanes was, he had the name of Galuanes without land, because all the portion his father left him, was only a poore Castell: for the rest he had spent in following Armes and entertaining Gentlemen, whereupon he had the Sir-name of without land. Such as you haue heard were the speeches Agraies had with Amadis, of whome he requested to knowe, where he should finde him at his re­turne from Norway. Cozin, quoth Amadis, I hope at my departure hence, to visit the Court of King Lisuart, where I haue heard chiualrie to be worthily maintained, with greater libertie and honor, then in the Kingdome of any Emperour or King. But seeing it liketh you to take ano­ther way, I desire when you shall see the King your Fa­ther, and the Queene, to remember my bounden dutie to them both: assuring them on my behalfe, that they may commaund me in their seruice, euen as your selfe, or any other, as well in respect of our alliaunce together, as also for the gracious entertainement I had in my youth, being by them most carefully educated and esteemed. This done, Agraies tooke his leaue, being honorably conducted through the Cittie by the King and all the Lords of his Court: but so soone as the King entred the feelds, he sawe a Damosell comming toward him, who boldly laying hold on the raine of his horsse bridle, thus spake. Remember thy selfe King Perion, what a Damosell sometime said vnto thee: That when thou didst recouer thy losse, the Kingdome of Ireland should loose her flower. Thinke now I pray thee whether she said true or no, thou hast recouered thy Sonne whome thou reputedst lost, and euen by the death of valiant King Abies, who was the flower of Ireland, and such a one as that countrey shall neuer haue his like: vntill time the [Page 51] good brother of the Lady must come, who shall by force of Armes cause to be brought thither the tribute of other Countreys, and he must dye by the hand of him, that shall accomplish for her the only thing of the world which most he loueth. And so it happened by Marlot of Ireland, brother to the Queene of that countrey, whome Tristan of Leon­noys killed, on the quarrell of tribute demaunded of King Marke of Cornewall his Unckle: which Tristan afterward dyed for the loue he bare to Queene Yseul, being the only thing of the world that he most loued. Now must thou be mindfull héereof, said the Damosell to the King, for Vrgan­da my mistresse so commaundeth thee. When Amadis heard her speake of Vrganda, he tooke occasion thus to an­swere. Damosell and my friend, I pray you say to her who sent you hither, that the Knight to whome she gaue the Launce, commendeth himselfe to her good grace: being now assured in the matter whereof then she spake, how with that Launce I should deliuer the house from whence I first discended: and euen so it fell out, for I deliuered my Father vnknowen to me, being then at the very point of death. So without any other reply, the Damosell turning bridle, rode back the same way she came, and the King into the Cittie, with Amadis his Sonne so lately recouered: for which cause, he assembled all the Princes and Lords of his Realme, meaning to kéepe a more magnificent Court then euer he had done before, to the end that euery one might behold Amadis, in regard of whose honor and happy comming, there were Knightly Tourneys dayly vsed, be­side great store of other pastimes and delights.

During these pleasures, Amadis was aduertised in what manner the Giant had caryed away his brother Ga­laor, wherefore he determined (happen what might) to goe séeke him, and if possible he could to recouer him, either by force of Armes or otherwise. Notwithstanding, his heart being dayly mooued to goe see her that hourely expected his presence, one day he intreated the King his Father: seeing [Page] now he had peace with his enemyes, that with his leaue he might goe seeke aduentures in great Brittayne, because he was lothe to remayne idle. But little pleasing was this request to the King, and much lesse to the Quéene, yet by importunitie he obteined permission for his voyage: nor could they all haue power to withhold him, by reason of the loue he bare to Oriana, which made him obedient to none but her. Héereupon, being clad in such Armour as he promised the Damosell of Denmarke, he set forward on his iourney, embarquing himselfe at the néerest Port of the Sea, where by good hap he found passage readie. Not long was his cut into great Brittayne, landing at Bristow, a most noble and auncient Cittie of that countrey, where he heard that King Lisuart soiourned at Windsore, royally accompanyed with Knights and Gentlemen: for all the Kings and Princes his neighbours, did highly fauour and shew him obeysance, which made Amadis shape his course directly to the Court. Not long had he ridden on the way, but he met with a Damosell, who demaunded of him, if that were her readie way to Bristow? Yea marie is it, an­swered the Prince. I pray ye then tell me, quoth she, if I may finde any Shipping there, for my spéedie passage ouer into Gaule? What affayres calles you thither? said Ama­dis. In sooth, replied the Damosell, I goe thither to finde a Knight named Amadis, whome King Perion not long since hath knowen to be his Sonne. Greatly did Amadis mer­uayle héereat, for he thought these newes had not béene so farre spread abroade, wherefore he demaunded how she heard thereof? I knowe it, quoth she, from her, to whome the most secret things of all are manifest: for she knewe Amadis before he knewe himselfe, or that his father heard of Amadis, and if you would vnderstand what she is, her name (by common report) is Vrganda the vnknowen. She hath at this time especiall affayres with him, and by no o­ther can she recouer that, which she now standeth in feare in loose. Beléeue me Damosell, answered Amadis, séeing she [Page 52] who may commaund euery one, doth now please to imploy Amadis, I assure ye, it is néedlesse for you to trauaile any further: for I am the man you are sent to seeke, and there­fore let vs goe whether you thinke conuenient. What? said the Damosell, are you Amadis? Yea verily am I, answe­red the Prince. Come then and follow me, quoth she, and I will conduct ye where my Mistresse is, who attendeth your arriuall in good deuotion. Heere-with Amadis rode after the Damosell, and thus are they gone together in company.

THe Giant, of whome sundry times we haue spoken héeretofore, causing young Galaor to be enstructed in managing Horsses, and all other ex­ercises beséeming a Knight: found him so capable of euery thing, as in lesse space then a yeare he was growen meruaylous perfect, so that now nothing remained but to know of him, by whome he most willingly would receiue his or­der of Knighthood. Notwithstanding, before the Giant mo­ued this matter to him, one day among other, Galaor came to him in this manner. Father, quoth he, you haue dayly promised me that I should be Knighted, I desire you would be so good as your word: for there is too much time spent since I ought to haue had it. In sooth my Sonne, an­swered the Giant, you haue reason for your words: yet tell me by whome you would receiue your order? King Li­suart, quoth Galaor, is reputed a gentle Prince, and a right [Page] good Knight, wherefore if it so like you, I shall be contented to haue it at his hand. Well haue you aduised, sayd the Giant: so presently preparing all things in order, they set forward on their iourney. About fiue dayes after their de­parture, by good hap they came neere a very faire & strong Castell, named Bradoid, seated on the top of a Mountaine, enuironed about with fennes or marishes, as also with a salt water, that ran before it wondrous swiftly, so that without a Barque it was impossible to get thither. And because the marish was very long, there was to passe ouer it a faire long causey, being so broade, as two Chariots might well meete together on it: and at the entrance of the causey was a drawe bridge, where-under the water ran with such a violent fall, as no one was able by any meanes to passe it. Héere must ye note, that equally facing this bridge, there grew two goodly high Elme trées, where▪un­der the Giant and Galaor beheld two Damosels and a Squire, with a Knight mounted on a black Courser, this Knight was armed, bearing figured in his Shéeld two Li­ons rampant: and because the bridge was drawen vp, he could passe no further, but called with a loud voice to them within, that some should come to giue him entrance, which Galaor perceiuing, said to the Giant. My Lord, if it please you, I would gladly see what this Knight will do héere. Soone after they espied at the further end of the causey by the Castell side, two other armed Knights, accompanyed with ten Halberders, who came and demaunded of the Knight, what he would? Marie enter in, answered the Knight. It may not be, said one of the two Knights, except you meane to combate first. I will not stick for that, an­swered he that would enter, cause you the bridge to be let downe, and come to the combate: which presently they did. But one of the twayne (more hastie then his compa­nion) auaunced himselfe first, and placing his Launce, ran with a swift carrire against the Knight, who receiued him so brauely, as he sent both horsse and man to the ground. [Page 53] The fréend to the dismounted Knight thinking to reuenge his iniurie, gaue foorth to méete him, and fayling in the at­taint with their Launces, so furiously encountred with their bodyes, as the Knight of the Castell fell into the wa­ter where he was drowned, and the conquerour rode on, which the Halberders séeing, presently drew vp the bridge againe after him. When the Damosels sawe he was thus▪ closed in, they cryed aloud to him that he should returne, and as he was about so to do: he espied thrée other Knights well armed comming toward him, who very audaciously thus spake. Unhappy was the hower to thee when thou didst passe this bridge, for thou shalt dye in this water, where he is drowned that was of greater reputation then thou art. Héerewith they all three together ran against him, and met him so firmely, as his Horse was like to haue fallen ouer backward, yet hauing broken their Launces on him, he was at this encounter wounded in two places: ne­uerthelesse, one of them he met in such order, as his Ar­mour being vnable to resist the point of the Launce, pierced through with such violence, that the trunchion still remai­ned in his body. This done, couragiously he drewe his sword, addressing himselfe to the other twayne, and they in like manner against him, where-upon began a dange­rous combate betwéene them: but he with the Lions in his Shéeld doubting his death, laboured so much as he could to ouercome his enemyes, giuing one of them such a stroke on the right arme, as (being cut from his body) it fell sword and all to the ground: wherefore féeling himselfe thus wounded, he gallopped with all spéed to the Castell, cry­ing. Help my fréends, help your Lord who is in daunger of killing. When the Knight of the Lyons heard, that he with whome he must yet deale, was the Lord of the Ca­stell, he deliuered him such a rigorous blowe on the Hel­met, as made him loose his stirrops and readie to fall, had he not got hold about the neck of his Horsse: in this stag­gering the Knight of the Lyons rent his Helmet from his [Page] head, and he perceiuing himselfe vnarmed, thought to es­cape by flight as the other did, but his enemy got betwéene him and the Castell, saying. Thou art dead, if thou yéeld not thy selfe my prisoner. Alas, answered the amazed Knight, I am dead in déede if you please: but as you are a Gentleman take pittie on me, for I do yéeld my selfe your vanquished. Suddenly the Knight of the Lions looking a­bout, espyed other Knights and armed men on foote, that came in great haste from the Castell to succour their Lord: wherefore he stepped to his conquered prisoner, and hol­ding his sword against his throate, sayd. Commaund thy men to returne, else shalt thou presently dye. Then he who sawe his life in such perill, cryed to them, and made a signe with his hand, that if they loued him they should returne: where upon, they beholding their Lords life at his ene­myes swords point, obeied his commaund with all possible speed. Yet is not this enough, sayd the conquerour, cause now the bridge to be let downe: which he did, and they came both foorth on the causey where the Ladyes taryed: but when the Knight of the Castell beheld them, and that one of them was Vrganda the vnknowne: Ah my Lord, quoth he, if you kéepe me not from this Lady, I am but dead. Nay beléeue me, answered the Knight, that will not I do, but rather am to deale with thée as she shall com­maund me: then stepping to Vrganda, he said. Madame, see héere the Lord of the Castell, what is your pleasure I shall do with him? Smite off his head, aunswered Vrgan­da, if he will not deliuer you my friend whome he kéepeth in prison. Héere-with he lift up his sword to feare him, when the Knight falling on his knée, cryed: Ah my Lord, kill me not, I will obey what so euer she commaundeth. Dispatch it quickly then, said the Knight of the Lyons. So called the Lord to one of the Halberders within, saying: Go to my brother, and tell him if euer he intend to sée me aliue, let him quickly cause the imprisoned Knight to come hither, and the Damosell that brought him with her. [Page 54] Right soone was the messenger gon on this errand, retur­ning immediatly with the Damosell and the Knight, to whome the Knight of the Lyons thus spake. Thanke this Lady who hath done so much for ye, and truely great cause you haue to loue her, in that she hath taken wonderfull paines to deliuer you from this thraldome. I do loue her, answered the restored Knight, and so will continue better then I haue done heeretofore. But before he could finish these words, Vrganda ran and embraced him, the like did he to her: afterward the conqueror demaunded, what should be done with her that brought him thither. It is ne­cessary that she dye, replyed Vrganda, to let her knowe the price of so hainous an offence. Presently was the poore Damosell so strangely enchaunted, as she ran skipping o­uer the marrish quag-mires, and turning back againe, would haue throwen her selfe into the water, had not the Knight of y^e Lyons intreated Vrganda, to pardon her tres­passe for this time. Prouided, said Vrganda, that she re­turne no more to offend me, otherwise she shall pay for all together. When the Lord of the Castell saw the Damosell was remitted, at his request who ouercame him, he thus spake. My Lord, I haue perfourmed what hath beene com­maunded, therefore I pray ye giue me leaue to depart frō her that neuer loued me. In sooth, answered Vrganda, for honor of him by whome you make your sute, I am con­tent, and you may returne. He being gone, the Knight of the Lyons (who yet meruailed, by what occasion the Damosell was driuen into the furie) asked what moued her so to do? Ah my Lord, quoth she, me thought one came round about me, and would haue burned me with a lighted torch, therefore to saue my selfe, I sought to leape into the water. At these words the Knight fell into a laughter, saying. Your folly hath beene ouer-great, faire Damosell, to worke her ill who knowes how to reuenge it.

Galaor stood and had séene all these things, where-upon he thus spake to y^e Giant. Beléeue me father, I very much [Page] desire that this worthie man should giue me my order, for if King Lisuart be renowmed, it is for his possessions, but this Knight deserues it by his strength and valour. I am well content, answered the Giant, goe and request it of him, if he deny you, the fault is his owne. So Galaor went forward, accompanyed with foure Squires & two Damo­sels, when comming to the Knight of the Lyons, he found him yet vnder the trees. At his arriuall he was courteously receiued by the Knight, who reputed him one of the most comely Gentlemen that euer he had séene, afterward Ga­l [...] thus began. Gentle Sir, I am come to intreat a fa­uour at your hand. Truely, answered the Knight, if your request be reasonable, it will the sooner be graunted. My sute Sir, quoth Galaor, is for nothing else, but that it might please you to giue me the order of Knighthood, and in so do­ing, you shall saue me a great deale of trauaile to King Li­ [...] ▪ to whome I am going for the same cause. My friend, replied y^e Knight, you shall do your selfe ouer much wrong, to leaue so good an occasion by the best King in the world, for so poore a Knight errant as I am. My Lord, quoth Ga­laor ▪ the great state of the King can put no such strength [...]nto me, as I haue séene perfourmed by you in the late Combats: therefore (so please it you) accomplish in me my earnest desire. I can be much better content, answered the Knight, to graunt any other thing you will demaund: for such authoritie appertaineth not to me, nor to you like­wise is it so honorable. As thus they stood on these tearms, Vrganda [...]vnlooked for [...] came to them, wherewith y^e Knight of the Lyons was very glad: and she hauing as yet not heard any of their talk, thus spake to her champion. What is your opinion of this Gentleman? Me thinks, quoth he, a brauer person was neuer seene: but he requireth such a thing of me, as is neither in him or me conuenient. What is it? said Vrganda. That I, quoth he, should giue him the order of Knighthood, and yet is he now in trauaile, with determination to request the same of the famous King Li­suart. [Page 55] Certainly, answered Vrganda, to make him stay, will be a greater cause of euill to him then good, & I will coun­cell him not to desist from his former motion: for you ought not to deny it him, séeing I can assure ye, that honor will be better imployed by him, then any other in all the Isles of the Sea, except one. Séeing it is so, replyed the Knight, in the name of God let it be done: goe we then to some Church to performe the vigill. It shall be néedlesse, quoth Galaor, to stand about such matters now, in that I come not vnprouided of them alreadie. It suffiseth then, answered the Knight: so put he on his right spurre, and embracing him, said. You are now a Knight, wherefore take the honor of the sword by whome you shall thinke it more conuenient. Do you then giue it me, said Galaor, if you please, for by no other will I receiue it with my will. Then he called a Squire that held a sword readie, but Vr­ganda stepped before, saying. No, no, you shall haue a bet­ter: take that which hangeth on yonder trée, and you shall find it farre more faire and good. Heerewith they looked vp on the tree, yet sawe it not, wherefore they all began to smile, and she doing the like, said to them. In sooth it is al­most ten yéeres since it first was hanged there, yet no pas­senger by euer sawe it: looke better about the tree, for sure you cannot but easily behold it. Now did they all perceiue it tyed to a braunch of the tree, euen as though it had but euen then béene hanged there: and by it was a scabberd couered with gold, shewing, most fine and curious worke­manship on it. The Knight of the Lyons tooke it downe, and afterward girded it about Galaor, saying. So faire a sword beséemeth a Knight so formall, & thinke she hated ye not, who of so long time hath kept it for you. Most chéere­fully did Galaor giue her thanks, and the Knight likewise, thus speaking to them. I beséech ye to hold me excused, for I am constrained presently to depart from ye, and were it not I must goe where I am attended, no companie in the world would I desire more then yours: therefore I desire [Page] yée Sir, to tell me where I may find ye at my returne. In the Court of King Lisuart, answered the Knight, where I shall be very glad to sée you: and because it is no long time since I was Knighted, I am the more desirous of some a­bode there to attaine honor, as you cannot chuse but do the like if you come thither. Certes, said Galaor, to that place will I shortly follow ye: and Madame, quoth he to Vrganda, you haue so strictly bound me to your seruice, as may it please you to account me your Knight, I am readie wheresoeuer you shall commaund me. So departed he frō them, returning to the Giant who staied for him by the ri­uer side, where he had hid himselfe least he should be séene.

But now you must héere obserue, that as Galaor thus deuised with Vrganda and the Knight, one of the Damosels that was in Galaors company, had conference with her that attended on Vrganda, of whom at large she vnderstood, how the Knight of the Lions was Amadis, Sonne to King Pe­rion of Gaule: whose comming thither Vrganda had caused, to deliuer by force of armes her friend that there was kept prisoner, for by enchantment she could not compasse it, by reason the Lady of y^e Castell was too cunning in that arte, and there had first enchaunted him in despight of her, fea­ring no way to loose him againe but by Knightly chiualrie. On this occasion the custome there was appointed, which Amadis ended, and restored (as you haue heard) the man for whome they came thither: and he by the Damosell, Niece to the Lady of the Castell, that in enchaunted furie would haue leapt into y^e riuer, was conducted to this place.

So soone as Galaor had left Vrganda, she demaunded of Amadis, if he knewe the man to whome he gaue the order of Knighthood. No truely Madame, quoth he. In footh, an­swered Vrganda, it is great reason you should know what he is: for he beareth so braue a mind, y^e if you both should méete without further knowledge, there might happen be­twéene ye great inconuenience. Therefore I giue ye to vnderstand, how he is your owne brother both by father & [Page 56] mother, and the very same whome the Giant caryed a­way, being then but two yeeres old and a halfe: now he is of so goodly stature as you haue seene, for whose sake and yours likewise, I haue a long time kept the Sword, wher­with (I assure ye) he shall do more in exploits of Armes, then euer any Knight did in great Brittayne. Amadis con­ceiued héereat such inward ioy, as y^e teares trickled downe his chéekes, wherefore he said to Vrganda. I beséech ye Ma­dame, tell me where I may finde him. It is not necessary, quoth she, that as yet you should séeke him. Why? sayd Amadis, is he then constrained to accomplish some predesti­nate matter, before I may find him? Yea verily, answe­red Vrganda, and it is not so easie to know as you may ima­gine. Long time thus continued their conference, till Vr­ganda would depart alone with her friend: so she commen­ded Amadis to God, who presently tooke his way toward Windsore, where at this time King Lisuart soiourned.

Our Historie at this time pauseth of him, continuing what happened to Galaor the new Knight, w [...] being arri­ued where the Giant stayed for him, thus spake. Father, I am now thanks be to God and him you sent me to, a confirmed Knight. My Sonne, quoth the Giant, I am not a little glad thereof: and seeing it is so well effected, will ye graunt me one request? What? said Galaor, am I to deny you any thing, except you would with-hold me from séeking honor? My Sonne, answered the Giant, I rather desire thy happy proceeding therein, & that which I would haue appertaineth thereto. Demaund then what you will, said Galaor, for I graunt it. Fair Sonne, quoth the Giant, héeretofore you haue heard me cōplaine of the Giant Al­badan, who by treason slew my father, and yet forcibly de­taineth from me the Rock of Galteres, which iustly doth be­long to me. I pray ye to take reuenge on my behalfe, for no other then you may do it: remember how well I haue nourished and vsed you, as also my true and vnfained loue, which is such, as I will yéeld my person euen to the [Page] death for safetie of yours. This matter, said Galaor, you néede not request, but commaund me to do it: as for my selfe, I desire ye to rest content, till with Albadan I haue tryed this difference, séeing it concerneth you so néere. Be­side, héereof you may be perswaded, that if I escape with life, I shall continue euermore in readines, to accomplish any thing else for your honor and profit: in which deuoire, the whole circuit of my time is bound, as witnesse of the dutie I owe to you, therefore without any longer trifling, let vs set forward to him with whome I must try my for­tune. So tooke they the way to the Rock of Galteres, but before they had trauayled farre, Vrganda ouertooke them, and being acquainted with eche other, she said to Galaor. Knowe ye (gentle Sir) who hath this day made you Knight? That do I Madame, answered Galaor, euen the best Knight that euer I heard of. It is very true, quoth she, yet is he of greater estéeme then you thinke, but I would haue you to know his name: then called she Ganda­laz the Giant, saying. Gandalaz, doest not thou know that this Knight whome thou hast nourished, is Sonne to King Perion and his Quéene Elisena, and how by such like words I bad thee take him, since which time thou hast béene his foster father? It is very true, answered the Giant. Now then Galaor my friend, said Vrganda, the man that made thée Knight is thy brother, and elder then thou by two yéeres: wherefore when thou séest him, giue him honor, and labour to resemble him in hardines and kindship. May it be possible? replyed Galaor, that King Perion is my father, and Quéene Elisena my mother, and I the brother to so good a Knight? Doubt not thereof, quoth she, for it is so. Praised be God, said Galaor, now may I assure ye that I am in greater care then before: nor will I make any spare of my life, seeing it is necessary I should resemble him you talke of. Thus returned Vrganda the same way she came, and the Giant with Galaor rode on as they purposed, the Prince demaunding of the Giant, what the Lady was [Page 57] that had communed with them? It is, quoth he, Vrganda the vnknowne, as she nameth her selfe, because she often trans-formeth and maketh her selfe vnknowen. As thus they deuised together, they came to a riuer side where they would refresh themselues, and by reason the heate of the day was very vehement, they caused a Tent to be erected: where long they had not sitten, but they beheld two Dam­sels comming toward them by two seuerall wayes, and met together directly before the pauillion. So soone as they espied the Giant, they would haue fled, but Galaor came to assure them, and courteously caused them to returne, de­maunding afterward whether they trauailed. I go, quoth one of them, by the commaundement of my mistresse, to see a straunge fight, which one onely Knight hath enterprised in combate, against the strong Giant at the Rock of Gal­teres, to the end I may bring her true tidings thereof. When the other Damosell heard her say so, she thus re­plied. I am amazed at your spéeches, is there any Knight in the world dare venter on such folly? Certes, sayd the first, it is most true. Beleeue me, answered the other, al­though my occasions be else-where, I am content to stay and goe with you, to sée a matter so incredible. Héereupon they would haue taken leaue of Galaor, but he said to them. Make no haste faire Damosels, but tarry if you please, and we will beare ye company: whereto they con­discended, as well for the good grace they noted in this new Knight, as also in respect of his amiable countenance, which made them take great pleasure in beholding him: then Galaor walking with the Giant aside, said, Father, I could wish that you would goe no further with vs, but let me goe with these Damosels to accomplish what I haue promised: this he spake, because he would not be knowen what he was, or that his enterprise should be suspected by them, whereto the Giant (vnwillingly) did accord. So rode Galaor with the Damosels, and thrée Squires the Giant left him to beare his Armour, making such spéede in [Page] their iourney, that they arriued within two miles of the Rock of Galteres, where they lodged in the little cottage of an Hermite, to whome Galaor imparted some of his secret thoughts: but when he reuealed that he came for the com­bate, the good Hermit (abashed thereat) discoursed with him in this manner. My Sonne, who hath aduised thée to this boldnes, seeing there is not in all this countrey ten such Knights, as dare assayle the Giant, so fearefull and monstrous is he to behold: and you being but young, to hazard your selfe in this daunger, aduenture the losse both of bodie and soule, because such as wilfully seeke their own death, are very homicides of them-selues. Father, answe­red Galaor, God worke his will with me, for by no meanes may I let passe mine enterprise. Greatly was the good man mooued to compassion, so that the teares bedewed his milke-white beard, being able to make no other answere, but thus: If not my Sonne, I desire God to assist ye, sée­ing you will giue no better credit to me. Good Father, quoth Galaor, be mindfull of me in your deuout praiers: and thus till next morning they spent the night.

Galaor hauing armed himselfe, went to the Rock which was not farre frō the Hermitage, for there might be easily discerned the fortresse and great towers, which deliuered good marke of a most strong Castell. When one of y^e Dam­sels saw they approched so néere, she demaunded of Galaor, if he knew the Knight that should performe the Combat? I thinke, quoth he, I haue séene him sometime: but tell me I pray ye, from what place are you come to behold this pa­stime, and what is the Lady that sent you? None must knowe so much, said the Damosell, but the Knight him­selfe which dealeth in the Combate. Thus continued their talke, till they arriued at the Castell of Albadan, the gate whereof they found fast shut, but Galaor stepping thereto, called the Porter: at which noise, two men shewed them­selues ouer the porche, demaunding of him what he would haue. Goe, quoth Galaor, and say to Albadan, that héere is a [Page 58] Knight, who is sent from Gandalaz to defye him: and if he come not foorth the sooner, he will shew himselfe of lesse va­lour then reputation. You haue reason, said one of them in mockage, but he will quickly bring a remedie for your choller, if you do not help it your selfe by running away. So departed the watchmen to enforme the Giant of these newes, and when the Damosels vnderstoode, that Galaor him-selfe must execute the enterprise, being terrified with amazement, they said. Ah my Lord, you attempt a matter of ouer-much folly, would God you might spéede so well, as with honor to accomplish an enterprise of such conse­quence: As for me, quoth one of thē, I dare tarry no longer with ye, for I shall dye at the sight of the Monster with whome you haue to deale. Damosels, said he, seeing you may not be assured héere, depart I pray ye to the Hermi­tage where we lodged this last night, and if I dye not in fight, I will not be long from ye. Beléeue me, replyed the other Damosell, what-soeuer happen I will not goe, for I determine to sée the end. The boldnes of the one made them both tarry, yet did they sunder themselues by the Forrest side, because the Giant should not sée them, and ho­ping the better to escape away if the Knight sped not well.

SOone was the Giant aduertised of these newes, wherefore not long after he came foorth of the Castell, mounted on a horsse proportionable to such a huge bodie: for it séemed an Elephant, and he on his back made ample resemblance of a huge Colossus, or like a mountaine moo­uing, [Page] rather then a man. Armed he was in plates of iron so long, as from his throate they couered all the saddle on the horsse, hauing on his head a bright shining helmet, and in his hand a mightie iron Mace, being the weapon where­with he commonly vsed to fight. Wonderfully affrayde were the Squires and the Ladyes that beheld him, and Galaor was not so assured, but he stoode somewhat abashed: notwithstanding, he resolued so couragiously, as the néerer he approched, the lesse account he made of his huge ene­myes Mace. When the Giant sawe him come marching so brauely toward him, he said. I meruaile demie man, how thou darest with such boldnes tary thy death: he that sent thee hither might either borrow thy courage, or thou his corpulence, but he intended I should breake my fast, before the houre of dinner came. Galaor somewhat discon­tented with these despisings, thus answered. Thinkest thou huge beast that thy barking can aduantage thée, or hinder me? my confidence is in him who abated the pride of the great Philistine, and can likewise deliuer thée more base & vile then the dust. Excéeding angry was the Giant at these words, wherefore without any more talke he lif­ted vp his Mace to strike, séeming in his marching as though a Tower had béene caryed about, but Galaor being prompt and nimble, stooped his Launce, and with a rough carrire of his horse, attainted him on the stomack so braue­ly, as he caused the mightie Poliphemus forgoe one of his stirrops, his Launce therewith shiuering in pieces in the aire. At this encounter the Giant thought to haue strooken him downe with his Mace, but he was too roughly & sud­denly stayed, whereby his blowe was giuen in vayne: for the Mace which was heauie, and comparable to a huge beame in bignes, being deliuered with full force of both his armes: fell downe so weightily, as the Giant himselfe was not able to hold it, whereby it lighted on the head of his owne horsse so peazantly, as being feld therewith, dyed presently vnder him, the Giant tarying a good while before [Page 59] he could recouer himselfe againe. Yet the horsse being of courage, did often striue to get vp, but Galaor thrusting his Sword into his belly, caused him at length to lye there still enough: but in the end, the Giant did the like to Ga­laors horsse, and he séeing in what great danger now he was, by his wunted dexteritie quickly got footing▪ Then approching his enemy, drew the Sword Vrganda had giuen him, wherewith (watching when the Giant lifted his Mace) he gaue such a stroke at it where he helde his hands, as breaking the stock in pieces, he left but little length for the Giant to hold it by: yet he made shift to buffet Galaor therewith in such sort, as he was constrained to set one hand to the ground to sustaine himselfe. But all this did no iote astonnish him, for comming to the Giant, (who yet kept play with the remainder of his mace, which by warie escapes the Prince still preuented) he gaue a stroke at him with so full force, as: cleane cut away the left arme from his shoulder, and the sword passing further with like strength, met the Giants leg so directly, that it wounded him through y^e flesh, with a wide gaping wound to the very bone. Féeling great pain by both these maimes, he cried out aloud: Ah vnhappy wretch that I am, to be thus ouercome by the strength of one man. Being in ex­treame rage, he sought to fasten hold on the bodie of Gala­or, but the sore wound on his leg would let him stand no longer, cōstraining him to fall on his knées to the ground: and as the Prince approched to him, he thought with his other arme to pull him downe, but Galaor perceiuing his intent, strooke at him againe and smote off his hand. Now was the Giant dispoiled of all force, being so wounded and ouer-trauailed withall, that he was no longer able to en­dure: by which meanes Galaor more easily parted his head from his shoulders, which he deliuered his Squires to [...]ary with him. When the Damosels beheld this famous con­quest, they left their ambush, and came to regard this mer­uaile, saying to Galaor. In sooth worthie Knight, great good [Page] nurture hath béene bestowed on you by your educatour: for as we haue héere-tofore heard, he hath the profit & venge­ance, and you the honor excéeding all.

As they were about to returne, they saw ten Knights come foorth of the Castell chained together, who cryed to him. Come my Lord, come take this place, séeing you haue done him dead that so miserably detained vs prisoners. What think you? said Galaor to the Damosels, may we so­iourne héere this afternoone? Truly, quoth they, we thinke nothing to the contrary. So went they into the Castell, where Galaor discharged y^e prisoners: and soone after, viands for dinner was brought him & his company by the seruāts. When they had refreshed thē-selues, and at their pleasure visited the fortresse, the subiects inhabiting the Rock came all to him, & would haue done him honor as to their Lord: but he by no meanes would accept thereof, for he told thē that what he had done, was on the behalfe of Gandalaz, to whome that place by right appertained. And I, quoth he, as bound to him by dutie, came hither to prepare his lod­ging: therefore I pray ye that he may be well receiued of you all, and obey him as your true and naturall Lord, for well am I assured, that he will intreat you with loue and gentlenes. These requests were presently aunswered by one for them all, who said. Hither shall he be most hartely welcome, because we hope, that he to whome we shall be [...]assailes and subiects, will cherish and fauour vs: in stead whereof, y^e other vsed vs as villaines & slaues, and you (be­ing y^e conquerour) we hold for our only deliuerer. All things thus debated & accorded, Galaor departed thence with his company, returning to the Hermitage, where the Hermit attēded for happy news: but he was not a little glad to see Galaor come with such successe, wherfore he thus spake. My Sonne, daily are you bound to praise the diuine bountie, whose loue hath giuen you grace to execute this notable vengeance. On the morrow, after he had receiued the good mans benediction, he set forward on his way, & one of the [Page 60] Damosels intreated him, that he would suffer her to tra­uaile in his company, whereto right willingly he gaue con­sent. And I, quoth the other, must take another way, in that I had not come thus far, but only to behold the issue of the cōbat, which I haue seene with such content, as I must néeds make cōmendable report therof to other, and so shall I not faile to do in y^e Court of King Lisuart, whether now I go to find a brother of mine gone thither before me. Fair Damsell, answered Galaor, if you méet a yong Knight, who beareth in his Shéeld a couple of Lions, I pray ye say to him, that the Gentleman, to whome not long since he gaue the order of Knighthood, doth humbly salute him, adding this withall, how he endeuoureth to honor the order, & whē they both shall meet, he will acquaint him such matter be­tweene them, as yet perhaps he knoweth not. So tooke the Damsell her leaue of Galaor, who afterward thus begā to commune with the other. You know Lady, that I haue fi­nished the combat with y^e Giant, and you said to me before I began it, how the Knight himselfe should know what she is y^• sent you thether. Uery true, answered the Damsel, but if you would be resolued therin, follow me, and within fiue dayes I will shew you her. That shall not let me, said Ga­laor: thus rode they on together so long, till at length they came to a forked way, and Galaor who rid mu [...]ing before, thought she had followed him: but she arrested behind a little, and whē she hoped to ouer-take him againe, it was her hap to take the wrong way. This chanced at the en­trance of the forrest of Braganda, which seuereth the coun­treys of Claire and Gresca, where long he had not erred, but he heard a voice thus calling to him: Ah good Knight, help me. Galaor turning his head to sée what was the cause: I thinke, quoth one of his Squires, it should be the Damo­sell that departed from vs. What? sayd Galaor, hath she left vs? Yea truely, answered the Squyre, she tooke the way leading on the left hand. Beléeue me, quoth he, I had very little care of her: & hastily without taking his helmet, [Page] hauing only his Shéeld and Launce, he galloped so fast as he could to the place where he heard the voice, and hard at hand he espied fiue men on foote, armed with Corslets and Halberds, and a Dwarffe on horsseback, who cruelly laid on the Damosell with a staffe. When Galaor approched neere them, he came to the Dwarffe, saying. Thou villai­nous and deformed creature, soone shall I send thy soule to the Deuill: and running fiercely against him with his Launce, threw him against the ground meruailously ama­zed. Then came the other eagerly vpon him, compassing him on euery side: but to the first he gaue such a gréeting with his Launce, as he lay sprawling along on the earth. An other of them buckled close to him, laying load on his Shéeld with his Halberd, but at length he pierced his Launce quite through his body. When the other thrée saw this massacre, they ran away so fast as they could ouer­thwart the Forrest, and Galaor not able to ouertake them, returned back againe to the Dwarffe, who being gotten on horsseback, fled away after the other, crying. Accurssed Knight, in haplesse hower hast thou thus misused my men, for thou shalt dye an euill death. Galaor séeing the Dwarffe laboured so hard to saue himselfe, would follow him no further, but went to see if his Launce were vnbroken, which he had left in the bodie of the dead man: and finding it sound as it was before, gaue it to his Squire, saying to the Damosell. Ride now before me, and I will guard ye better then I haue done.

So tooke they the way againe they had left, that brought them to a Riuer named Braz, which could not be passed at the f [...]rd: now rode the Damosell somewhat farre before Galaor, finding the passage so readie, as she went ouer be­fore he came. In meane while he stayed the returne of the boate, he espied the Dwarffe come after him crying: Uil­lainous traytour thou art dead, if thou deliuer not the Damosell thou tookest from me. Little account did Galaor make of his words, but looking back, he saw thrée Knights [Page] come after the Dwarffe well mounted, one of the thrée thus speaking to the rest. It were great dishonor for vs, to set all thrée together vpon one man: and as for my selfe, I thinke scorne to be assisted by any. Hauing so said, with a full course he ran against the Prince, who likewise was ready to entertaine him, and they encountred in such sort, as the Knight pierced Galaors Armour, making him feele y^e naked point of his Launce: but Galaor bad him so brauely welcome, casting him from his saddle with such might, as he lay on the ground not able to stirre, whereat the other twaine were so abashed, that they ran both together a­gainst the Prince, the one failing, and the other breaking his Launce: which Galaor determining to reuenge, strooke his Launce into the sight of the last Knights Helmet, as he made it fall from his head, and he (hauing lost his stirrops) ready to lye along. Meane while, the second who had not broken, returned against Galaor, and sped in méeting. Now albeit the encounter was with great vigour, yet escaped the Armour on either side. Hauing thus gallantly shiuered their staues, they drewe foorth their Swords, beginning a fierce and cruell combat: and while the fight endured, the Dwarffe without ceassing cried to his men: Looke well that he escape not, but kill him least he get away. Then Galaor comming néere him who had lost his Helmet, rea­ched him such a stroke on the head, as he tumbled downe dead before him. And when the third saw his companyon slaine, being affraid of himselfe, he turned his back and a­way: but Galaor pursued him so neere, that he gaue him a blow betwéene the neck and the shoulders, which brought off a great many plates of his Armour. Now did the run-awayes feare more and more encrease, whē he felt his enemy so néere at hand, wherefore the better to saue him­selfe, he cast his Shéeld back ouer his shoulders, and fled a­way faster then he did before: which Galaor perceiuing, would follow him no longer, but hastily returned, thinking to take the Dwarffe and binde his legs to a trée, from [Page] which the Dwarffe kept himselfe well enough, for he had gotten more ground in running away then y^e other. Héere, vpon he came to the first that he dismounted, who hauing some-what recouered himselfe, Galaor thus spake to him. In sooth your misfortune grieueth me more then your fel­lowes doth, for like a good Knight you came alone to me, albeit I know not on what occasion, in respect I neuer of­fended ye as I remember. It is very true, answered the Knight, notwithstāding you must not [...] what the Dwarffe said to vs: how you had beaten him, slaine his men, & taken a Lady perforce from him that was in his company. Be­leeue me quoth Galaor, (shewing him the Damosell on the other side of the Riuer,) he falsely lyed, and were it that I had brought her away perforce, she would not tary for me so willingly as she doth: but she vnhappily straying in this Forrest, the Dwarffe met with her, offering to leade her away against her will, and because she would not obey him, he gaue her many cruell strokes with a staffe. Ah trai­tour that he is, answered the Knight, for this villainy shall I reward him if euer we méete againe. And because Galaor found the Knight in so good sort, he holpe to take his horsse that had escaped: desiring him to punish the Dwarffe for his treason. This done, he entred the boat and past the wa­ter, afterward he and the Damosell rode on their way, she shewing him soone after a Castell néere at hand, which stood very brauely on the top of a Mountaine, saying. Héere will be the best lodging we shall finde this night: and alighting from their horsses, they were entertained there with mer­uailous courtesie, it being the dwelling of the Damosels mother. Soone after was the Prince vnarmed, and then the Damosell came to him in this manner. To the end (my Lord) I may kéepe promise with ye, if you please to stay héere till I returne, which credit me shall be very spée­dily: I will bring ye newes of her whome you desire to see. I am content, answered Galaor, prouided that you make no tariance, because I haue affaires of importance else­where. [Page 62] Let it suffise, replied the Damosell, you shall see me againe sooner then you imagine. And so she departed, vsing such diligence, as Galaor was not displeased with her stay. At her returne, they mounted on horsseback, and rode to­gether crosse the Forrest, which when they left, the night ouertooke them: whereupon the Damosell forsaking the out-right way, turned aside, and by time the greater part of the night was spent, they arriued at a verie faire Citie named Grandares, where comming to a Castell gate, the Damosell said. Now let vs alight, and follow me, for héere will I shew you her I promised: but leaue not your wea­pons and Armour, because one can scant tell what may happen. The Damosell went before, and Galaor followed her till they came néere the wall. Get vp héere, sayd the Damosell, and I will goe on the other side to attend you. With much adoo he ascended the wall, by reason of his weightie Armor, as also being troubled with his Sheeld and Helmet. When the Damosell saw he was amounted, she entred the Pallace to guide him as she had begun: in meane while Galaor was discended, and sate hard by a posterne that entred a Garden, where he taryed so long, till the Damosell came and opened the dore with one of her companyons, but ere he entred, they thus spake. Al­though you haue attained thus farre, yet before you passe any further, you must néedes tell vs whose Sonne you are. Let that alone answered Galaor, for I haue such a Father, as till the time of better hap, I am content not to name him. Neuerthelesse, quoth one of thē, it is very ne­cessary we should know, for it shall not be any way to your hinderance. I am, answered Galaor, Sonne to King Perion of Gaule and the Quéene Elisena, and it is not sire dayes past since I could not tell ye so much. Stay then, said the Damosell: so they caused him to be vnarmed, casting a mantle about his shoulders, and afterward went on, the first Damosell going before, and the other comming be­hinde him. In this manner they entred the Pallace, passing [Page] through a chamber, where many Ladyes and Gentlewo­men were in bed: and if any one demaunded who went by so late, the Damosels his guides made answere for him. Thus not perceiued by any, they came to another cham­ber, wherein when Galaor entred, he saw sitting on a gor­gious bed a most beautifull Lady, with an Iuory combe kembing her faire locks: but when she espied. Galaor, she presently cast on her head a chaplet of flowers, and came to receiue him whome the Damosels had brought, saying. My friend, you are right hartely welcome, being the best Knight in the world that I knowe. And you Madame, quoth he, are most happily found, being the fairest Lady that euer I sawe. Then the Damosell that had guided him thither, thus spake. My Lord, sée heere my mistresse, now am I discharged of the promise I made ye, and if you would haue me say any more: she is named Aldena, daugh­ter to King Serolys, and because the wife to the Duke of Bristoya, is Sister to her mother, she nourisheth her héere as her owne daughter. And you Madame, quoth she to the young Princesse, haue héere present (as I can assure ye) the Sonne to King Perion of Gaule: wherefore you being both the children of Kings, excelling in beauty and natures per­fections, if you loue together no one dare blame ye. Héere­with she went presently foorth of the chamber, and making fast the dore after her, left the two louers alone: by which meanes they spent this night so amorously, as they that haue tasted like fortune may conceiue, and therefore neede I make no further talke thereof.

But the hower being come when Galaor should depart, he was warily aduised thereof by the Damosels, who brought him to the place where ouer-night he had left his armour: and after he was inuested therein as he ought to be, he went along the Garden againe where-through he came in. And as neuer any good chaunceth, without some mishap attending thereon, so now came it to passe: for there found he the Dwarffe ambushed, that had so misused [Page 63] him before, as you haue heard, who no sooner espied him, but he cryed out. Beléeue me Sir Royster, vnwise wast thou to enter héere, for thou dyest, and the traytresse that did conduct thée. Come foorth Knights, come foorth, héere is a man that secretly came from out the Dukes chamber. It was no time then for Galaor to sléepe, but lightly get­ting vp the wall, cast himselfe on the other side, where finding his horsse ready, he presently mounted: notwith­standing, the Dwarffe and the rest well acquainted with the secret issues of the Castell, with all speed pursued him, and perceiuing how this villainous Dwarffe was cause of all this trouble, stayed, saying to himselfe. Either I will dye, or be reuenged on this ridiculous creature if I catch him. Then came the other and set vpon him, but so braue­ly did he defend himselfe, as none of them durst be bold to tary neere him: for he being mooued to excéeding impaci­ence, thrust himselfe in the middest among them, laying a­bout with courage, as well they found who they dealt withall. Galaor seeing the Dwarffe still kept aloofe, deter­mined to dye but he would lay hold on him, and entring a­mong the thickest of them, before his Launce brake he slew two outright: then drawing his Sword, made them so soundly acquainted with the sharp edge thereof, as he that thought himselfe hardyest, was glad to giue him way, for no one medled with him but was layd along. At length they compassed him in such sort, as they found meanes to kill his horsse, which made him fall to the ground in very great daunger, for now they verily intended to murder him, and the Dwarffe perswading himselfe that he could not escape, came néere to shewe some part of his man­hoode: but when he saw Galaor had in spight of them reco­uered his féete, and happy was he which kept furthest from him, he turned his horsse to escape away, yet by chaunce Galaor got hold on the reines of his bridle, giuing him such a blowe on the stomacke with the hilts of his Sword, that he fell to the ground so loutishly, as the bloud gushed [Page] foorth at all the conduits of his head. Then lightly moun­ted he on the Dwarffes horsse, and the Beast seeming to storme at this chaunge, from an euill fauoured Dwarffe to one of y^e best Knights in the world, made proofe whether his rider could sit fast or no, running violently with him a good distance from his enemyes. And turning to make an end of his worke, as by chaunce he lifted his eyes to the Castell, he saw in one of the windowes the Lady whom he had chosen as his friend, she shaking a white hand-kercher to him, meaning he should be gone with all possible speed, which he did, because he perceiued more enemyes at hand. With nimble pace he hyed him away, not tarying til he re­couered the Forrest, where to refresh himselfe awhile, he gaue his Helmet to his Squire.

Now shall ye vnderstand, how when the Dukes Knights sawe him make such haste away, some were of the opinion to follow him, the rest said it was in vaine, séeing he had gotten into the wood, and thus debating, they went no fur­ther, but stood as men confounded, with meruailing how one man could be able to vanquish so many. Meane while the Dwarffe was come to himselfe againe, but he felt his body so sore and bruised, as very hardly could he stand on his feete, yet still he cryed to them in this manner. My friends, cary me to my Lord the Duke, for I will let him know what he must néeds reuenge. Through these impor­tunate acclamatious, he was brought by them before the Duke, to whome he declared, how he met the Damosell in the Forrest, and because he would haue accompanyed her home, she cryed out till a Knight came to aid her, who kil­led his men, & beat him likewise very cruelly. Afterward, how he followed him againe with thrée Knights to haue her from him, and they in like manner were discomfited. Lastly, that she brought the same Knight to his honours Castell, and suffered him to be with her in the Dukes own chamber. The Duke being highly offended heereat, de­maunded if he knew the Damosell he thus complained on. [Page 64] Yea my Lord, quoth the Dwarffe, if I see her againe. Heereupon all the Ladyes and Gentlewomen were sent for, and so soone as the Dwarffe beheld her, he said. This is she (my Lord) by whome your Pallace is dishonored. Ah Traitour, answered the Damosell, thou lyest falsly, for had not the Knight come to reskue me in the Forrest, thou wouldest haue abused me: and villainously didst beate me, because I would not consent to thee. Very much incensed with anger was the Duke against the Damosell, and said to her. By mine honor (false woman) I will make thée to reueal the trueth. Afterward he sent her to close prison, yet notwithstanding all the paine she endured, she would not discouer any thing touching her Ladyes secrets, albeit she was there very long tormented: to the no little griefe and sorrow of Aldena that déerely loued her, and knew not by any other how to vnderstand of her Galaor. But the Au­thour thinking he hath kept ye too long from Amadis, re­turneth to him: intending when place and matter shall serue, to finish that which afterward happened to Galaor.

GReat ioy had Amadis at his depar­ture from Vrganda, as well for vn­derstanding that the man whom he had Knighted was his owne Bro­ther, as also because he approched neere the place where his Oriana so­iourned, hoping ere long to haue a sight of her. And so long trauailed he through a Forrest where into he had entred, as he was surprized with darke night, before [Page] he could finde any house for lodging, yet notwithstanding the obscuritie of the night, he espied in the wood a great fire: wherefore he rode thitherward, and by the way chaun­ced on a faire Fortresse, as he gathered by the lights he beheld through the glasse windowes, and comming néere thereto, he heard the voices of men and women singing, tunable to swéete Musique that consorted with them. When he came to the gate, he knocked and called for some to open it: but the hermony of the Musique, and other noise in the Castell, made such hinderance, as he was not heard. Notwithstanding, he still more loud knocked and called, till certaine came and peeped foorth at small creui­ses in the gate, and séeing him, one of them demaunded what he would haue there so late. Sir, answered Amadis, I am a strange Knight that séekes for lodging. Strange? quoth he within the Castell, it appeareth so by thy lan­guage, but more by thy manner of walking so late: our countreymen desire the day time, and thou shunnest it, fea­ring to be séene, or least thou shouldest haue occasion to combate, and at such an hower as this is, none trauaile the way except they be Deuils. Beléeue me, answered Ama­dis, little courtesie do you knowe or shewe, that vse these words, séeing without further knowledge what I am, you not only rebuke but condemne me: and I thinke if you are possessed either with sense or manhood, you haue sometime béene in like distresse as I am, and hauing found it in your selfe, neuer reproue it in an other. Thou mayst make triall thereof if thou wilt, quoth he in the Castell: but get thee walking, for heere shalt thou set no foote this night. Now trust me, said Amadis, I think thou wouldest haue no man of valewe in thy companie: yet before we part, I am desi­rous to knowe what thou art. That will I tell thée, quoth the other, on this condition, that when so euer we méete, thou shalt combat with me. I will not stick for that, an­swered Amadis. Knowe then, said he within, how I am Dardan, who commaunds thée not to stray so farre this [Page 65] night, but that I may finde thée to morrow morning. Thou vauntest of thy selfe very much, quoth Amadis, but if thou wilt cause Torches be brought hither to giue vs light, and come foorth presently without longer stay: we shall soone sée who ought to haue y^e worsse lodging this night. What? said Dardan, to combat with an Owle, the enemy of the day, must I bring Torches, and this night take Armes? vnwise is he, that so late to gaine such simple honor, will either put on Spurre or Cuyrate: and with these words he went from the gate.

Héere may the Reader by himselfe discourse awhile, what fruite ouer-braining commonly bringeth with it, and contrarywise, what perfection (among all other ver­tues) is in modestie. No well grounded courage, or gal­lant disposed bodie, can duely put in exercise the benefit of the one or other, if moderation and temperance be not their guides therein. And albeit valiance & hardines is a great gift of God: yet are they so pernitious in such as haue them, (who are transported with passions, or the glory of ambition,) as they be euen no better then cowardise and presumption. Eloquence, and the facultie of well speaking, is a rich and precious gift of nature, augmented and en­creased by long vse and studie, to giue light and decking to the faire conceptions of the spirit: but it is there a more hurtfull pestilence in a common wealth, then when a well spoken Oratour will misuse his arte and swéetnes of lan­guage? Haue not some bin knowen to perswade simple people, to enterprise things which afterward haue brought their ruine and subuertion? I leaue the confidence of the wise, and the opinitiue in their owne beautie, the one pro­curing to many the losse of their soules, and the other to infinite number the destruction of honor: so hurtfull in all things is too much vsurpation of ouer-weening, and immo­derate estimation of our selues. I will not heere compare the wisedome of Vlisses, with the arrogancie of furious A­iax, or the violence of Turnus, with the temperance of Ae­neas: [Page] nor make other remonstrances by the successe of great matters, happening to mightie personages both Greekes and Latines. It shall content me, to set for example this only accident of indiscreet Dardan, to the end that young Gentlemen, who take delight to reade this Historie: séeing on [...]he one side the pacient magnanimitie of Amadis, and on the other the furious brutalitie of Dardan, may propose the vertues to be imitated, and the vices to be detested and punished.

Amadis then somewhat displeased with the outragi­ous spéeches of Dardan, departed, not so much caring for his lodging, as how to be reuenged: and concluded, some­time in walking about, and other while in resting by a bushe, to passe the incommoditie of this night in the For­rest, thus to beguile the time till day rising. As there he traced vp and down, he heard the speech of some body néere him, and looking about, espyed two Damosels on horsse­back accompanyed with a Squire: after they had saluted him, and he them, they demaunded from whence he came so late armed, wherewith Amadis thoroughly reported, all that had happened to him at the Castell. Know you, said the Damosels, the name of the Knight? That do I, quoth he, for he told me his name is Dardan. Uery true, said they, he is called Dardan the prowd, the most audacious Knight in this countrey. I beleeue it well, answered Amadis. Sir Knight, quoth they, séeing you are so vnprouided of lod­ging, if you will take pacience to remaine this night in our Tentes, which are pitched héere hard at hand, you shall be welcome. He glad of this courtesie, rode with them, and being there alighted, Amadis caused his Squire to vnarme him. When the Damosels saw him so faire, and of such honest conuersation, they were well pleased with his com­panie: and so they supped together merily, afterward they gaue him a pallad to rest vpon. Neuerthelesse, before they parted, they demaunded of him whether he trauailed. To the Court of King Lisuart, answered Amadis. And so do we, [Page 66] replied the Damosels, to sée what shall happen to a Lady, one of the best and most noble in the Countrey, who hath committed her welfare to the triall of a Combate, and it must be within few dayes following be perfourmed before King Lisuart: but yet we know not who will be the man, for he against whome the cause must be defended, is one of the best Knights in all great Brittayne. What is, said A­madis, the Knight so much estéemed, especially among so many good? It is the same Dardan, answered the Dam­sels, from whome so lately you came. And on what cause, said Amadis, ariseth the Combat? I pray ye (faire Ladies) if you know, let me vnderstand it. Sir, quoth one of them, this Dardan loueth a Knights daughter of the Countrey, who at his second nuptials maryed her. I am to speake of: now hath this Damosell the beloued of Dardan, conceiued such hatred against her faire mother, that she hath said to her friend, how she will neuer loue him, except he bring her to King Lisuarts Court, and there openly maintayne, that all the poore Ladyes goods appertaineth to her, and if any one gaine-say it, he to iustifie the same in combat. These news were highly pleasing to Amadis, for by these meanes he intended to compasse occasion, to be reuenged of the wrong he did him: and that in the presence of Oriana, who should there perceiue what her Knight was, which made him enter into such thoughts, as the Damosels well no­ting it, one of them thus spake. I pray ye Sir, for courte­sie, acquaint vs with the reason of your sudden musing, if it may without offence be knowne. Faire Ladies, answe­red Amadis, if you will promise me as loyall Gentlewo­men, to kéepe it secret and reueale it to no one, willingly shall I tell ye: all which they sollemnely sware to per­fourme. I intend (quoth he) to combate for the Dame you spake of, and mind not to faile: but I would haue it con­cealed from any but your selues. When they heard what he said, they were much abashed, notwithstanding they made great estéeme of him: séeing what they had vttered [Page] in praise of Dardan, could not affray him, but he would ha­zard the combat, and therefore she that alreadie had bro­ken the matter, thus replyed Gentle Sir, your intent pro­céedeth from a high resolued minde, and we will pray for your prosperous successe. So gaue they eche other the good night, and went to rest till the morning, when they dislod­ged together. Then intreated the Damosels, that seeing he went to the same place they did, and in the Forrest kept men of euill hauiour: therefore he would not forsake their companie, whereof he made them promise.

Along they ride with sundry discoursings, where among other talke, they desired, in respect they met so happily to­gether, that he would be content to let them knowe his name. My name, quoth he, is Amadis, but I pray ye kéepe it only to your selues. Procéeding on by vaste and vnfre­quented places, one day, when furthest they were from doubt, they beheld before them vnder a trée, two armed Knights prepared for the Ioust: who séeing them comming, stepped into the middest of the way, the one saying to his companyon. Which of these two Damosels wouldest thou haue, and the other I meane to take my selfe? I will, said the other, haue the first. And I her companyon, answered the other: so without more words they came to lay hands on them. Amadis, who misliked such dealing, without the Damosels consent, addressed himselfe to the Knights: de­maunding what manner of behauiour this was, to Ladies comming from honest place? Such, quoth they, as besee­meth women of their age. What? answered Amadis, would you then force them? Who shall let vs, quoth they, if we please? Marie that will I replied Amadis: then la­cing his Helmet, he tooke his Sheeld and Launce, saying. Let the Damosels alone you shamelesse men, and defend your selues. Without any more talke they gaue y^e spurres to their horsses, méeting together with such puissance, as the Knight brake his Launce, and Amadis gaue him such an attaint, that he caryed him from his horsse to the groūd, [Page 67] with his head vnder, and his héeles vpward breaking the laces of his helmet in the fall, so that his head remained without shelter. When the other sawe his companyon downe, he would reuenge him, and coutching his Launce against Amadis, met him so full, as piercing his Armour, wounded him a little, and his Staffe was shiuered all in pieces: but the Prince failing with his Launce, encoun­tred him so fiercely with his bodie and horsse, as he lay tombling hard by his fellow, then comming to the Dam­sels, he said. I pray ye héereafter come no more behind, but for your better suretie kéepe ye before. Awhile he taryed to sée if they would rise againe, but perceiuing they made no shewe thereof, he forbare to charge them any further, and so rode on with his companie. Soone after they came to a faire plaine, whereby a pleasant Riuer had his course, and there they caused their Tents to be erected: as well to re­gard the hurt of Amadis, as also to refresh themselues. But as they sate at meate, the two dismounted Knights came riding thither, saying to Amadis. Sir Knight, you haue wun the Ladyes at the Launce, now must ye defend them by the Sword, otherwise we will cary them hence in de­spight of you. But you shall not, quoth he, if I can let it: so drawing his Sword against him that first made offer, in short time he brought him into such distresse, as without the succour of his companyon, he was vnable to hold out any longer: which Amadis perceiuing, said. Ah Knight, the Ladyes make slender account of you, that you must come both vpon one man. Yet notwithstanding he would not forbeare, but as the patterne of vnconquerable valour, gaue him likewise worke enough to do, so that all their wrong turned to his honor: for he gaue the last such strokes on the helmet, as the Sword glauncing on his shoulders, cut in twaine the cuyrates of his Armour and sliced his flesh to the very bone, which made him let fall his Sword, and run away halfe dead. Then turning to the o­ther, he cut off his hand vnder his S [...]eeld, the paine where­of [Page] was so yrkesome to him, as he cryed: Ah I am slayne. Thus speaking, he threw his sword to the ground, and the Shéeld from about his neck. All this auaileth not, said A­madis, for I will not leaue thée, except first thou sweare, neuer to offend Lady against her will. Alas, quoth he, I promise faithfully, and will perfourme it. Heerewith Gan­dalin came, who gaue him his Sword and Shéeld againe, permitting him to goe for help whether he would: and A­madis returned to the Tent, where the Damosels reioy­sing for his safe returne, said. In sooth Sir, we had beene dishonored without your ayd, which is much better then we expected, and such, as not only assureth your reuenge for Dardans iniurie, but the Ladies also, it fortune permit, you do vndertake her quarrell. Then was be vnarmed, and after his wound was drest, he sate downe to meate againe.

At their departure thence, they lodged at a good Ladyes Castell, where they were most courteously entertained, and on the morrow trauailed all day, without any aduen­ture worthie rehearsall, arriuing very néere Windsore where King Lisuart lay, when Amadis thus spake to the Damosels. Faire friends, I would not be knowen to any one, therefore till such time as the Knight come to the Combate, I intend to withhold my selfe from the place: and when the howre is, let your Squire bring me tidings thereof hither. Sir, quoth the Damosels, as yet there wants two dayes of the assignation, therefore if you please we will tarry with you: and our Squire shall goe into the Towne, to bring vs word when the Knight is arriued. I am well content, said he: whereupon they pitched their Tent betweene a little wood and a riuer, and Amadis pre­sently put off his Armour. Now did the Damosels change their opinion, and thought it better for them to goe into the Towne, to sée how things were in preparation, saying they might returne when they pleased. Amadis not misli­king thereof, willed them to do so, in meane while (being [Page 68] vnarmed) he mounted on horsseback, intending to stray a­broad a little for his pleasure, and Gandalin guided him thorough the wood. Riding along, as they were on the side of a little Mountaine, he might easily behold the Towne, and when they were at the highest, they alighted from their horsses: when Amadis sitting downe vnder a Tree, cast his eye toward that part where he iudged the Prin­cesse Oriana should be, then regarding the walles, the To­wers, and the whole Castell, breathing foorth a vehement sigh, he said. An happy Towers, within you is the onely flower of the world: and thou faire Towne, how fortu­nate art thou in containing that, which all the harts and praises of men can not comprehend? High in diuine grace were he, who for maintenance of this quarrell should spend his life: but much happy he, that without other combate then his small desert, should reach a blisse so incomparable. Then resting his head on his arme, he entred into a deepe conceit, which prouoked him to sudden silence, and in this melanchollie the teares trilled downe his cheekes: in meane while Gandalin who knewe his complexion, stan­ding where he was vnséene of any, espied a goodly troupe of Lords and Ladies comming toward them, whereof he made haste to aduertise the Prince, but he was so perplex­ed, as he could not answere, wherefore Gandalin tooke him by the arme, saying. My Lord, sée you not what a great traine maketh toward vs? At these words he came to himselfe, beginning to sigh, and lifting his eies to heauen, said. Gandalin, if in this loue I were maister of my strength, as I am in diuers other actions: neither shouldest thou haue neede to aduertise me, nor my selfe be without coun­cell so much as I am. But I feele my selfe so oppressed, as all the enemyes in the world can not bring me to such ex­tremitie, as this ouer-ruling passion doth: therefore I pray thée talke to me, of the felicitie a man shall enioy in death, for other may I not taste, and practise no meanes of my life, seeing the contrary doth surmount it. What my [Page] Lord? answered Gandalin, estéeme you the victorie ouer your selfe so difficult, after so many conquests of stout and bold Strangers? Why do you not thinke, that peraduen­ture she loueth you as well, for whome you endure such assaults, and happily by as great reason as you loue her? your personage, prowesse, beawtie, and nobilitie of linage, can they deserue lesse, then the good grace of the most rare and excellent Lady in the world? let these humours (my Lord) repell your desperations. Further he would haue proceeded, but Amadis brake him off in anger, saying. Wretch darest thou blaspheme so much, as to say, that he who hath merited no condition in the world, may be equal­led with so perfect a thing as is my Lady? enter no more into such tearmes, if thou wilt not haue me thine enemy, and so lose my conuersation. Well, well, said Gandalin, I pray ye wipe your eyes, least those that come hitherward perceiue you haue wept. What? aunswered Amadis, commes there any body? Yea marie, quoth Gandalin, and now they be at hand: héerewith he shewed him y^e Knights and the Ladies, who were hard by them by time Amadis was mounted. Then as though he had stayed for their company, he saluted them, and riding among the trayne, he beheld a Lady (very comely and beawtifull) who wept verie grieuously, whereupon he left the rest and rode with her saying. Madame, God comfort ye and giue you ioy. In sooth, answered the Lady, and thereof haue I néede, in that as now it is very farre from me, which except heauen fauour me with better grace, I am vtterly out of hope e­uer to sée againe. And so high a Maiestie, said Amadis, can prouide therefore when he pleaseth: notwithstanding, if you were so contented, I gladly would knowe the cause of your sadnes. Beleeue me my friend, quoth she, all that euer I enioy in this world, consisteth in the triall of a Combat. By these words he knew this to be the Lady of whom the Damosels had told him before, wherefore he enquired fur­ther, if as yet she had found a Knight on her behalfe? No [Page 69] truely, said the Lady, and (which gréeueth me most of all) to morrow must my delay be exterminate. What will ye then do? answered Amadis. What would you that I should do? quoth she, but lament and loose all, vnlesse by hap I finde one in the Kings Court, who mooued thereto by charitable compassion, will courteously defend the right of a desolate widdow. Such fortune, said Amadis, shall I pray may befall ye, for I should not be a little glad there­of, as well for your owne sake, as also because I neuer thought well of your aduersarie. I thanke ye gentle Sir, quoth she, to God I commit the reuenge of my wrong. So passed on the Lady, and Amadis turning bridle, rode back to the Pauillion, where he found the Damosels, who were already returned from the Towne: and presently they told him, how Dardan was come into the feeld, with full resolution to do his deuoire. And trust me, said Amadis, it was my hap to méete the distressed Lady, euen the same whome the case concerneth: héerewith he declared all the talke they had together. But now is the hower of quiet come, and eche one went to rest till the point of day, when the Damosels being risen, came to tell Amadis, how they would goe before to the Towne, and send him word when Dardan was readie. Not so, quoth Amadis, I will not be farre behinde ye, but let one ride before, to aduertise me when Dardan shewes himselfe in the féeld. After he was ar­med, they went all to horsseback, and being come to the is­sue of the Forrest, he said to the Damosels. Now may you goe if you please, for I will not depart this place til I heare some newes from you. Away they went, when Amadis a­lighting, tooke off his helmet to refresh himselfe.

No sooner did the Sunne appeare in the East, but the King came to the place appointed for the Combat, which was without the Towne hard by the walles, where Dar­dan not long after shewed himselfe, in such manner and e­quipage, as an ambitious man vseth to gaine goods and honor, also like an amourous Champion to maintaine the [Page] quarrell of his beloued: who to countenance him with the greater fauour, was queintly led by the raynes of his pal­fray, then presenting himselfe before the King on his knees, he said. My Lord, according to the ordenance by you ap­pointed, this Lady and I humbly beséech ye, that the goods may be deliuered her as is no more then reason: for if any Knight oppose himselfe against her, héere am I readie for the Combat. The King then called for the other Ladyes defendant, but she poore soule appeared alone. Why Lady? quoth the King, are you vnprouided of a Champion, that you come without any one to sustaine your right? So help me God, answered she wéeping, I am (my Lord) forsaken of all, except you graunt me mercie. Great compassion had the King on her, for he knew her to be very vertuous: but he could not together order reason and the lawe. In meane while, Dardan who thought no resistance would come, sate downe in the middest of y^e féeld, attending the third hower, which was the time according to the custome, when the King should pronounce sentence to the conquerour: but one of the Damosels seeing now the noedfull time, made haste to let Amadis vnderstand, what want of his presence was in the féeld. For this cause he immediatly mounted on horsseback, & being armed as appertained, commaunded the Damosell and his Squire to goe some other way, for he would not be seene by any from whence he came: assu­ring them, that if he were victor, he would returne againe to the Tent. So departed Amadis alone, riding on a braue white Courser, as he promised the Damosell of Denmarke in Gaule, and arriued at the place where Dardan held the world in wunder of him. The King and his Nobles séeing him come from the Forrest, stoode somewhat in doubt of him, for he caryed such a gallant & Knightly countenance, as promised a farre off, that his enemie should finde him of hautie disposition: which made the King (aboue all other) desirous to knowe him, and thinking she for whose cause he came knew his name, he called and demaunded of her [Page 70] the question. Dread Lord, answered the Lady, I neuer sawe the man before, nor do I knowe what he is. By this time was Amadis entred the feeld, when doing reuerence to the King and the Ladies, without longer stay he came to Dardan: demaunding if he were the man, that would maintaine the quarrell of her, for whome the poore Lady was put to such trouble, because, quoth he, I am come in her defence, and also to keepe promise with thee. What didst thou promise me? replied Dardan. That I would sée thée in the day time, said Amadis, and wottest thou when? it was at such a time, as thou being whitled with Wine, or glory, or else the trust thou hadst in thy strong Castell, spakest so outragiously to me standing without, wearied both with trauaile and hunger. And therefore do I make the lesse account of thée, answered Dardan: but cause her to come hither, for whome thou wilt do such a doubtie déede, to know if she will accept thée as her Champion, and after­ward do the vttermost thou canst. When the King sawe they talked so long together, he would haue heard what they said: but the good widdow came, and to her Dardan thus spake. Dame, this Knight would maintaine thy right, wilt thou submit all to what he can do? With all my hart, quoth she, séeing it pleaseth him to stand so much my friend, and God spéede him no otherwise then my cause is iust. When the two Knights were at the very point to combate, the King perceiued that Amadis Sheeld was bruised in two places, both with strokes of the Sword, and point of the Launce, wherefore he said to such as stoode néere him, that if the Knight demaunded an other Shéeld, he would gladly giue him one: but Amadis was so hote in desire to reuenge himselfe and the Lady, that he listened to nothing but the Combate. Thus the Ladies accord being receiued, the two Champions tooke their carrire against eche other so roughly, as their Launces pierced their Ar­mour and flewe in pieces, without any other harme as yet: but when their bodies met, Dardan was sent to the [Page] ground, yet it happened so well for him, as holding fast the reines of his horsse, he recouered himselfe more nimbly, and mounted againe, as one both valiant and brauely disposed, boldly setting hand to his Sword. When Amadis sawe him so quickly vp againe, and in such readines for his owne defence: he approched to him, when began such a battayle betwéene them, as euery one present meruailed thereat. On all sides were placed the inhabitants of the Towne, and many other that came farre off, as well on mightie Scaffolds in the féeld, as also on the towres and walles of the Castell: but aboue the rest, the Quéene was there pre­sent with her Ladies, most desirous to behold who should beare away the honor of this cruell combat, for they sée­med two so gallant companyons, as it was hard at first sight to iudge the better. Such were the rigorous strokes deliuered on either side, that sparks of fire flewe foorth of their Helmets & Armour, their Shéelds cut in pieces, and their bloud coullering the ground, which mooued excéeding compassion in the regardants, who seemed copartners in their daunger, according as eche one fauoured the welfare of his fréend: but the two champions gaue no respect there­to, because their desire was to make knowen both to the Ladies & themselues, the man deseruing highest account. Whē King Lisuart saw them endure so long, he said aloud: that he neuer beheld a more singuler combat, pursued with greater courage & manhood: wherefore he determined not to depart, vntill he had séene the finall issue thereof, permit­ting thē to procéede as themselues pleased. And to the end, quoth he, that the conquerour may be dignified with more then accustomed honor, I will cause his deserts to be liuely carued in Marble at y^e entrance of my Pallace, to prouoke the like perfection in all other, that are desirous to followe Armes. In such manner as you haue heard continued the two Knights a long time, the standers by being not able to discerne who had y^e better: for without taking breath or rest their fury continued, as though their strength had more & [Page 71] more increased. But Amadis, who by chance turning his head to the place where y^e Ladies stood; espied his faire Mis­tresse louely Oriana, whereby he felt his vertue augmēted in such sort, y^t he was as fresh & lusty, as if but then he en­tred the feeld, imagining he was become more then a man. Now followed he the fight with such cruell extreames, as in short time he dissolued y^e doubt who should be superiour: for Dardan (notwithstanding all his defence) was cōstrai­ned to drawe back, séeking how to escape the wreakefull strokes of his enemy, which without ceassing wounded his body in many places: his horsse likewise no longer able to endure, stumbled so often, til at length he set both his knees to the ground, which made Dardan think it better to fight on foote, wherefore he said to Amadis. Knight, our horsses are weary & faile vs, by reason wherof we cannot do as we would: & if we were on foot, me thinks in short time y^e doubt would be discided. These words did Dardan speake so loud, as the King & his Lords easily heard them: wherat Amadis séemed ashamed, thus answering. Although it be vnhono­rable in a Knight, to forsake his horsse so lōg as he can keep him: yet since thou thinkest to combat better on foot then on horsseback, we will alight, and defend thy selfe well, for thou shalt haue néed. Heerewith they dismounted, assailing ech other so couragiously, as if but now they begā the com­bat, shewing more sharp cruelty then before they had done: yet Amadis euermore kept y^e aduantage, cōmonly deliue­ring two strokes for one, which made Dardan do nothing but defend his enemies blowes, who cōpelled him to turne & reqoile as himself pleased, so y^t ech one accounted him very néere vanquished, blaming him because he kept not still on horseback. But as he turned héere & there, flying the slicing Sword of Amadis, he was driuē vnder y^e Ladies Scaffold, which made thē cry: Dardan can hold out no longer, he is ouercome if he enter y^e combat again. Yet for all this Ama­dis would not leaue him, but pressed him stil w^t such pursute, as he brought him hard by the Quéenes Scaffold, whē she & all y^e Ladies said. Without question, Dardan is but dead. [Page] At this clamour, Amadis vnderstood the voice of the Dam­sell of Denmarke, and lifting vp his head, espied her stan­ding by the Princesse Oriana: by meanes whereof, he be­came so farre beside himselfe, as he set the point of his Sword to the ground, forgetting not only the daunger wherin he was, but also stood amazed at y^e sight of his Mis­tresse. Which when Dardan beheld, he tooke hart afreshe, and charged his enemie so brauely, that if he had longer continued, he would haue gone away conquerour: but the Damosell of Denmarke noting this change, spake out a­loud. In an vnhappy hower did the Knight behold any Lady in this company, whereby he hath lost what he wun of Dardan: it is no time now for his heart to faint. These words confounded Amadis with shame, that gladly could he haue giuen entertainement to death, fearing least his Lady would suspect cowardise in him. For this cause, lif­ting vp his Sword, he gaue Dardan such a stroke on the Helmet, as made him set both his hands to the ground: then falling vpon him, he rent the Helmet from off his head, and trampled in such sort on him with his féet, as he fell downe like one depriued of his sences. Afterward ta­king him by the locks of his haire, he beat him on the face with the pommell of his Sword, saying: Thou dyest Dar­dan, if thou confesse not the Lady free. When Dardan sawe himselfe in such estate: he replied: Ah gentle Knight, for Gods sake mercie, kill me not, I acquite her. Now appro­ched the King and the other Lords to heare what he said, and while they stoode conferring with him, Amadis as yet ashamed of his fault committed, drew back through the throng: and seeing he had gotten behinde them all, so co­uertly as he could he ran toward the Forrest, leauing them all musing at Dardan, who filled the emptie aire with his complaints. In meane while his beautifull friend came to him, who in sted of giuing comfort for the foile he sustained through her, began to detest and despise him, say­ing. Dardan, heereafter seeke thée some other fréend then [Page 72] me, for while I liue, will I neither loue thée, or any other, then the good Knight who valiantly ouercame thée. How now Lady? quoth he, is this the reward of my honor and life aduentured for you? you then are not the fréend to Dardan, but to fortune, who is no sooner contrary to me, but presently you are mine enemie. Haue I then escaped death by the mercie of my foe, to endure wursse then death by the crueltie of my friend? Heauen suffereth me to liue, and yet you repine at my infortunate life: now shall I make knowen to all women by your example, that ingratitude is no lesse hurtfull to such as exercise it, then to any one offended therewith. Héere-upon he tooke his Sword, and before it could be imagined what he meant to do, he smote her head quite from her shoulders: then as a man transported with madnes, staring euery where ro [...]d about him, declared by his angry countenance, that high and not vulgare, was the enterprise he embraced in such an extremitie. The King sent his Archers to conuay him thence, but ere they came to him, he strooke him-selfe so violently to y^e heart, as the bloud spouted in the Archers fa­ces, and then he cryed out, saying. Now friend art thou reuenged by my vengeance, and thine enemie satisfyed with the despised life thou leftst me. So falling downe, de­liuered the last signe of his death, where-at each one was confounded with meruaile, as well for the noueltie of the case, as pittying the verie latest words he breathed: but when they remembred his passed life, wholly addicted to ouer-wéening folly, they reputed this vnfortunate end happened to him, not so much by accident, as the diuine ordenance, which made them sorrow no more, but conuer­ted their thoughts to commend the conquerour.

AFter the vnfortunate end of these ill aduised louers, the King in memorie of this strange accident, commaun­ded that in the feeld where they lay dead, should be erected a sumptuous Sepulchre of black Marble stone, fashioned like a Romaine Obelisque, and thereon was engrauen in the Brittayne language an Epitaph, de­claring the whole matter as it happened. And when he had knowledge of the conquerour (as héereafter the manner how is declared,) his name was placed thereon, and foure great Lyons at the foure corners of the Sepulchre, impor­ting the deuise which Amadis bare in his Sheeld.

But now the rumour being appeased, and they retur­ned to the Pallace, he called for the Stranger that wun the honor of the day: but after long enquirie, no one could certainly tell what was become of him, albeit certaine comming from the wood, reported how they saw a Knight returne from the féeld thither-ward, being alone and ma­king great haste. He that is worthy, said the King, to beare him company, may imagine himselfe happy enough: for séeing he hath shewed himselfe so braue a Combatant, it is impossible but he should be a wise and vertuous Knight. And for no lesse ech one reputed him, who vnderstood the iniuries of Dardan vsed to him, and sawe how he requited them with gentlenes and courtesie: albeit I make no doubt but he knew right wel, that if Dardan had got y^e bet­ter, [Page 73] he would not haue pardoned him. Such as you haue heard were the words of King Lisuart, but Oriana, who day by day expected the arriuall of Amadis, séeing the in­comparable valour of him that fought against Dardan, be­gan to suspect that it was he: for (quoth she to the Dam­sell of Denmarke) I am sure he would not send me a fabu­lous message, and this is the iust time he assured you of his comming. In good sooth Madame, answered the Dam­sell, you say very true, and which makes me conceiue the better hope, is that he promised me to ride on a white Courser, with the like Armes he had when he Combated against King Abies: and I remember how the Knight who ouercame Dardan, had the like horsse. But did you, (quoth Oriana) take no regard of his Armes? Yes marie did I, replyed the Damosell, albeit the cruell strokes recei­ued thereon, made me hardly perceiue what deuise was there figured: yet me thought the ground was a golden feeld, and the like I told ye he bare in Gaule, with two azu­red Lyons rampant portrayed therein, which being batte­red all in pieces, he presently made him such an other, assu­ring me to weare no other when he came into this coun­trey, and therefore I will doubt no further but it is he. Swéete fréend, said Oriana, if it be he, either he will shortly come, or send into the Towne, therefore you must be watchfull and diligent to heare thereof. Madame, quoth the Damosell, refere these matters to my charge. This conference caused Oriana to remaine verie pensiue, and breathing foorth many bitter sighes, she said. Ah gracious heauens, what fauour haue you done me if this be Ama­dis? now shall I compasse the meanes (better then euer I could) to speake with him.

So attended the Princesse for tidings from her friend, who returned as he promised to the Damosels Tent, yet was it somewhat late ere he came thither, finding them readie to sit downe to supper. After he had vnarmed him-selfe, they tolde him the misfortune [Page] of Dardan and his friend, as also the whole circumstance of their deathes: heereat he was very much abashed: then falling to their chéere, they beguiled the time with sundrie pleasant deuises, yet Amadis could thinke of nothing else, but how he might make his arriuall knowen to Oriana, wherefore they were no sooner risen from the table, but he tooke Gandalin aside, and thus began. My friend, thou must of necessitie goe to the Court, and labour secretly to finde the Damosell of Denmarke: to whome thou shalt re­port that I am héere, attending to heare from her what I shall do. Gandalin with all possible speed departed, and the better to execute his enterprise, he went on foote, when be­ing come to the Pallace, not long had he stayd till he sawe her he looked for, who was as busie as he in the selfe-same cause: yet at the first she knewe him not, but quickly re­membred she had seene him in Gaule with Amadis, and embracing him, demaunded where his maister was. Why Lady? quoth Gandalin, did not you see him to day? it was he that vanquished prowd Dardan, and hath withdrawen himselfe to the Forrest to heare from his Mistresse, desi­ring you by me, to let him vnderstand what he must do. Right welcome, said the Damosell, is he into this coun­trey, being the man desired aboue all other: but my Lady must néedes see thée, therefore follow me. If any one aske who thou art, say thou bringest letters to Oriana from the Quéene of Scots, and likewise thou art come to looke for Amadis, who is ariued héere as thou hast heard: by these meanes, thou mayst heereafter come to her without suspi­tion. Thus was Gandalin conducted into the Quéenes chamber, where the Princesse Oriana was, to whome, the Damosell of Denmarke came, and speaking somewhat loud, said. Madame, héere is a Squire sent to you from the Quéene of Scots. Oriana wéening she had said true, arose to welcome him: but when she knew Gandalin, the vermillion couller arose in her chéekes, and was so ouercome with ioy, as she knew not well what countenance to vse, yet [Page 74] Gandalin (as well aduised) set his knée to the ground, say­ing. Madame, the Quéene my mistresse hartely saluteth you, as the Lady whome she loueth and esteemeth aboue all other of her kinred, desiring to heare some newes from you, for héere she gréetes you with all that she doth know. Then gaue he her a Letter which he had feigned, hauing nothing written therein, but the superscription on the out side: whereupon she went aside with Gandalin to one of the windowes, making shewe to heare the rest of his charge, but she demaunded where he had left his Maister? Madame, answered Gandalin, he withdrew himselfe into the Forrest, so soone as he had conquered Dardan. Good freend, said Oriana, tell me by the faith thou bearest to him, how he fareth? Euen so faire Princesse, quoth Gandalin, as the man that is altogether yours, he loueth only y^e remem­brance of you, and yet suffereth such anguish in his soule as neuer Knight endured: by the only feare he sustaineth least he should not be yours, mistrusting his owne deserts for so high a seruice. His greatest hope is in your princely kindnes, and knowing him so long, as also what he is, that you will not forget him. Wherefore I beseech ye Madame, take compassion on him, appoint a méeting together, then resolue him, make me a happie messenger, and discharge your selfe of your deuoir: for hitherto hath he endured such sorrow, as no man is able to suffer the like. Often haue I séene him (thinking on you) so farre beyond him­selfe, as he hath fallen downe dead (in a manner) before me, so that I haue imagined (noting the abundance of his teares) his poore hart to be distilled into water through the conduits of his eyes. If he should dye, you offered him great wrong: for he is yours, and easily can ye not finde another so worthie of you. Nor néede you doubt, but if you graunt the hower of lengthening his life, he will surpasse in chiualrie the best Knight that euer bare Armes: where­in if he be happie by his vertue, yet hath he mishap to coun­terpoise the same, only through the passions he endureth [Page] for you. If now you will not deigne to affoord him remedie, much better had it beene for him, that fortune had let him perish in the Sea, to the mercie whereof in his cradle cof­fin he was commited: then after his preseruation by such strange meanes, to suffer him dye by a worsse shipwrack then the other. But if his dismall starres will not diuert this daunger, happie might he haue accounted himselfe, if he had neuer come to the knowledge of his parents, whose griefe likewise he greatly encreaseth, to see him so consume & dye before his day, being vnable to diuine or vnderstand the cause thereof. Gandalin all this while accompanyed his words with such teares, and often among breathed foorth so many mournefull sighes, as would haue enforced the verie rocks to rueth: but perceiuing Oriana was touched to the quick, he began againe in this manner. Ah gentle Madame, consent not to the death of such a seruant of yours, and so good a maister of mine: for beside the com­mon losse which will be great, in you alone shall consist the fault, moreouer, you shall maculate that perfect beautie, with the high condemned staine of crueltie and ingrati­tude. Héere did he knit vp his perswasion, attending an answere from the Princesse, but she was not able to deli­uer one word, so vehemently was her heart surprised and ouercome: and holding downe her head, let fall wonder­full streames of teares adowne her daintie chéekes, which enforced her to turne on the other side, least she should be descried, then when as Gandalin would haue begun a­gaine, she stayed him with a piercing sigh, saying. Ah my freend, I pray thée say no more, vnlesse thou be willing to sée me dye héere presently. Now stoode she silent a pret­tie while, often wringing and strayning her fingers with griefe, then setting apart all dissimulation, she softly thus spake. The assurance thou giuest me of thy maisters loue, is highly pleasing and agréeable to me: but the passion thou sayest he endureth, tormenteth me to the verie death, so that I féele both his payne and mine owne. Ah [Page 75] God, let not me be the occasion of death, to a man so high and precious of desert as he is, rather let me worke mine owne death, for if he dye, I may not liue one hower. Thou art come to tell me his painefull trauayle, and now thou mayest goe to let him vnderstand mine, which if thou knewest so well as thou doest thy maisters: in stead of blaming me with crueltie, thou wouldest rather iudge me vnfortunate, and if I vse any crueltie, it is against my selfe, whome I haue depriued of rest pleasure, and well-neere life it selfe. The lesse succour can I giue to mine owne distresse, because as it often happeneth to our sexe, when thinking to drawe neere such as we desire, we are furthest off, and séeking for a harbour of contentment, glaunce into a place of torment and vexation: so falleth it out with me by thy maister, whome fortune hath euer kept me furthest from, but God knowes my good will hath alway béene with him, and gladly would I prouide for his griefes and mine owne, if I were able to compasse the meanes. Do then Madame what you may, answered Gandalin, if you loue him as I am sure he doth you, and begin at this instant to let him knowe, how he shall behaue himselfe in this Countrey. Oriana then shewed him a Garden, which was vnder the windowe where they talked, saying. Returne to thy Maister, and tell him, that this night he must secretly come to the place thou séest, and remember this with­all, how the Chamber vnder where we stand, is the same that Mabila and I lodge in, and there is a crosse barred windowe neere the ground, where-through wée may easily discerne eache other, and talke together: for his Cozin is acquaynted with mine affayres, nor is it necessarie they shoulde bée concealed from her. Then taking a costly Ring off her finger, she thus proceeded. Deliuer hym this token from me, as the only Iewell I most estéeme, and ere thou goest, thou shalt sée the Princesse Mabila, who is so wise and discret, as shée [Page] will easily vnderstand thée: yet thou must say some-what loud to her, that thou hast brought her tidings from her Mother. Héereupon Oriana called her to talke with the Squire, whome the Queene of Scots her Mother had sent to her: but when she sawe it was Gandalin, she then sus­pected how matters went: wherefore she went to the Quéene, leauing them in déepe talke together. In meane while the Queene demaunded of her daughter, if the Gentleman were to returne shortly or no: For, quoth she. I would send a token to the Quéene of Scots by him. Ma­dame, answered Oriana, the chiefe cause of his comming into this countrey, was to seeke for the good Knight Ama­dis, Sonne to the King of Gaule, of whome you haue heard such famous report. And where is he? said the Quéene. The Squire saith, quoth Oriana, it is more then ten mo­neths since he heard that he was héere, and now he mer­uaileth to misse of him in this Court. Now trust me, an­swered the Quéene, right glad would I be to sée so good a Knight in the Kings company, for it would be a great com­fort to him many wayes, hauing to deale with so many countreys: wherefore I assure ye, if he do come hither, he shall finde heere such honorable entertainement, as he shall haue no cause to depart in haste. Of his prowesse Ma­dame, replyed Oriana, I knowe little, but what common bruite hath blazed abroade: but héereof I am certaine, how he was one of the most braue young Gentlemen that euer Isawe, when in the King of Scots Court he serued Mabila and me. All this while Mabila continued with Gandalin, enquiring if his Maister were as yet arriued. Yea, Madame answered Gandalin, the same was he that vanquished Dardan, and expresse charge he gaue me, to sa­lute you on his behalfe. The name of heauen be for euer praised, quoth she, hauing preserued our kinseman from such exceeding daunger, and now sent him hither so hono­rably. Ah Madame, said Gandalin, he were happy indeede, if the force of loue made him not in wursse case then dead: [Page 76] for Gods sake therefore do you assist him, being thus fully perswaded, that if he find no ease to cure his afflictions, you shall loose the best Knight in the world, and the vphol­der of your fathers fame. He may be well assured, answe­red Mabila, how he can not with greater desire imploy me, then I haue to do him pleasure, and will him not to faile in what the Princesse hath commaunded him: as for thy selfe, being iudged to come from the Quéene my mo­ther, thou mayst come and speake to vs at all times as need shall require.

Gandalin tooke his leaue for that time, returning toward Amadis, who attended the answere of life or death, and into such debilitie was he brought by these extreames, as he had scant force enough to support himselfe: for the short sight he had of his Lady at the combate, encreased such a desire in him to see at more libertie, as euery hower see­med to him longer then a yeare. When he sawe that Gan­dalin was returned, in hope of happy newes, he came and embraced him, not daring to demaund any thing of him, fearing least matter should not fall out to his contentati­on: but Gandalin with a cheerefull countenance, told him that he brought no bad tidings, and rushing into the mat­ter at the first, said. My Lord, God make ye as constant, as you haue cause to be content, for if you haue that vertue, you are the most happy and accomplished Knight in the world. Ouerwhelmed with ioy, Amadis caught him in his armes, demaunding what he had done, seene, and heard? I haue seene and heard, answered Gandalin, the felicities of Paradise, and knowe that they are prouided for you, if you hinder it not your selfe. Ah Gandalin, quoth Amadis, iest not with me, but tell me the verie truth. Then Ganda­lin declared word by word how euery thing happened, first of the counterfeit Letter, and next the appointed meeting at the windowe: and (by the way) reported some part of his owne speeches, moouing a chaunge of countenance in Oriana, then her answere, euen to the conclusion before re­hearsed: [Page] likewise how he talked with Mabila, and how willing she was to assist him with her vttermost habilitie. Amadis was so fed with content by these reports, that he made him rehearse one thing ten times, and I cannot tell which of them was most affectionate, either Gandalin in reporting, or Amadis in hearing, for both the one and other seemed in [...]atiable, in the end Amadis thus spake. My faith­full companion, I thought my selfe altogether indebted to thy Father, who saued me from the daunger of drowning in the Sea, but I confesse that dutie belongs more neces­sarily to thée: because by thy dilligence and discretion, thou hast giuen me a better life then he preserued. But tell me now, didst thou take good marke of the place to which she commaunded me? Assure your selfe thereof, quoth Gandalin, for she her selfe shewed it me. Ah God, said A­madis, how shall I deserue the great good she doth for me? away from me now all cause of sorrow and complaining. Yet this is not all my Lord, quoth Gandalin, sée héere a token she hath sent ye, as a testimonie of her honorable loue to you: so he gaue him the King which came from O­riana, and after he had long beheld it, kissing it a thousand times, put it on his finger, saying. Faire King, that hast béene so happie, as to be caried and accounted déere by the most accomplished creature in the world, albeit thou be now in a place of much inferiour honor: yet hast thou not changed thy Mistresse, for both thou and I are hers, and she doth compasse my heart with greater force, then thou canst possibly binde in my finger. Let vs leaue this talke, answered Gandalin, and returne to the Damosels, who tarrie for vs in the Tent: but you must dissemble cun­ningly, for if they sée you altered from your wunted mel­lanchollie, it may be some hinderance to your determina­tion. So they brake off communication, and went into the Pauillion, where Amadis, (nothwithstanding Gandalins councell) could not but shew himselfe pleasantly disposed, whereat the Damosels were very glad, because such beha­uiour, [Page 77] better beséemeth him then his former pensiuenes.

When the houre of rest was come, eche one went to his accustomed lodging, and soone after Amadis seeing the time commodious for his enterprise, arose and found Gandalin, who had alreadie prepared for their iourney: wherefore being armed, they mounted on horsseback, taking the most conuenient way for their purpose to the Towne. When they came to the Garden, which Oriana had before shewed Gandalin, they alighted, and tyed their horsies at a tuft of trées néere adioyning, afterward they went through a hole which a water-course had made in the garden wall and approached the window where Oriana lay: faire and softly did Amadis knock thereon with his finger, she not yet slée­ping, who expected his comming, and when she heard the louing signall of hir friend, she awaked Mabila, saying. Sweete Sister, I thinke your Cozin knocketh at the win­dowe. My Cozin? answered Mabila, it may be so, but you haue greater interest in him then I, or all other of his li­nage together. Mabila presently arose, and lighted a waxe taper which she had hid for the nonce, when Oriana like­wise was got out of bed, they came together and opened the casement, where they found▪ Amadis no more atten­ding then he was attended. If they were then well plea­sed, it were folly to enquire, for all the contentinents in the world, might not be compared with the ioy of séeing eche other. And without question, they had two inducing rea­sons heereto, for beside the nourishment they receiued to­gether in their younger yeares, and their first amitie, con­tinued by the remembrance and good opinion they had of eche other: their beautie and perfectons were so corres­pondent, as if they had neuer seene one another till that ve­rie instant, yet had they cause enough to loue together. Oriana had on such braue attire beséeming the night, as set the hart of her louer on fire, for vnder a fine and daintie white frontlet, appeared the rarest golden tresses of haire that euer nature made, and about her shoulders she had a [Page] mantle of figured cloth of gold, imbroidered all ouer with rich and costly flowrets, as it might beséeme the greatest Maiestie in the world. And for her selfe, a thing more faire was impossible to be found, the inward conceit of her pre­sent comfort, decked her face with such a heauenly beautie, as it séemed that nature in pride of her arte, made this péece to excell all other in perfection. I will leaue you then to consider on the iudgement of Amadis, who (when the was nothing so glorious in fairenes) thought her worthie the loue of the best Knight in the world: now if he stoode mute, blame him not, hauing the only iewell of his heart before him, and therefore she to breake off this silence, first spake in this manner. My Lord, if I haue giuen you the libertie (contrary to my dutie and custome) to see me in this place at an houre so vnfitting, you must commit the offence to the securitie, which our former nutturing toge­ther loyally promised, and likewise to the good opinion of your great vertues since that time encreassed: which hath conquered no lesse fauour in me, then honor and renowne in all other places. Amadis to auoid further silence, thought it better to let his spéeches passe at aduenture, thē (by hol­ding his peace) to be reputed vnworthie this happines, or not so feruently touched with loue as she was, to exclude all which doubts, he thus replied. Madame, I account my selfe not so much fauoured by fortune in any thing else, as honored at my first entrance into your seruice, euen the ve­rie highest tipe of grace she could affoord me: nor do I féele my self so beholding to my vertues, as I rest double bound to them that report so well of me. But when both these benefits shall be excluded, yet is my loue and seruice to you so affectionate, as they can deserue no lesse then this secret gentlenes: and when you shall allow me more ample courtesie, it may commaund a stricter bond of dutie, but not of affection, for that is alreadie so substantially groun­ded, that the vttermost good you can do me, is neither able to augment it, or the sharpest vnkindnes diminish it. I [Page 78] know not whether it be séemely for a man, to confesse the extremities he hath infinite times endured by this passion, the verie least griefe I receiued, hath béene the losse of rest, and banishment of sleepe from mine eyes: and yet to af­flict me with greater torment, my spirit hath séene in a dreame what it vncessantly desired. How many times hath it happened to me, in thinking on you to be so con­founded, that such as haue séene me, reputed me not only depriued of common sence, but euen of verie life it selfe? What woman, what childe well beaten, hath euer powred foorth so many teares, as I poore Knight haue done? yea my very chiefest enterprises haue I sprinckled withall for your sake: not as feeling my selfe a happie subiect in loue, but rather too little merit in my selfe, and much lesse hope. This fauour procéeding from you in deigning to heare me, is greater then euer I durst hope forand so far [...] doth it sur­mount my passions, as I cannot expresse the least part of my ioy: my tongue likewise séemeth as vnprofitable and ignorant of his office, hauing béene so long from seruing me to you. But aboue all, this impuissance in spéech, shall on my behalfe testifie to you, what all the words in the world cannot deliuer with sufficient trueth: for as all o­ther beautie in comparison of yours is nothing, so before mine affection, all the other habilities of my soule vanish away, and become of no reckoning. Will you then (good Madame) with your courtesie supply my insufficeincie, and (with pittie) giue me both life and my selfe: and con­serue that which else cannot be, vnlesse it be yours only? These words vttered Amadis with such interruption of sighes and teares, as witnessed he had no intent of feig­ning, but rather knew how to suffer then speake: where­with Oriana mooued to compassion, thus answered. I make no doubt (déere freend) but you loue me, in respect of the paines you haue taken for me, as also by what you haue now told me: and though I should haue no signe thereof by speech or ought else, yet am I content to beléeue, because [Page] my hart hath no other desire, but héerein conceiueth grea­test contentment. And yet the torment I sée you in with impacience, troubleth my quiet, for you béeing assured by sufficient prooues, and especially this, that I loue ye: me thinkes you should haue no further cause of so seuere afflic­tion, but rather ought to temper your paines, in that (through the vnion of our spirits) I féele no lesse then you doo your selfe. If you will not appease them for your owne sake, I pray ye let it be doone for mine, the rather, that we may the oftner meete (if you please) publiquely: when such sadnes will but discouer, what we most willingly would kéepe vnknowen, wherby may arise too great inconueni­ence, and be a meane to hinder the thing we chéefest desire. Swéete Lady answered Amadis, I haue such felicitie in séeing and hearing you, as wanting strength enough to vnder-prop the burden of so especiall contentation: I am faine to fall downe vnder it, experimenting no lesse the paine of not accustomed pleasure, then the other beside of continuall pensiuenes, which makes me wonder that I cannot dye héer in this solace. If then I haue offended you by this transportation, pardon it in your owne selfe, who brought me to this happie misfortune, and likewise gaue me this hurtfull medicine: suffer me then yet longer to vse it, that in the assuraunce of your grace, I may by little and little learne to support it, and attaine the knowledge of li­uing content: excusing my apprentishood in this felicitie, being yet scant skilfull enough how to vse it. Loue is sick­nesse, and be it fauourable or contrary, it cānot be without passion, woorking the like effect in other, which you reproue in me. Well haue you saide my fréend, answerd Oriana, how you are as yet but an Apprentise: and so you shew very well by your woordes, proouing that loue cannot be without passion. I hope to see the time, when you (attay­ning greater and more perfecte knowledge therin, then yet you haue) shall be in higher tranquillitie of minde, which (it may be) you thinke cannot be had in this [Page 79] world. Nor shall it not happen to you by admiration of that which now you most loue, and is likewise of far more lesse account: but by the fruition of the thing wherin feli­citie consisteth, the knowledge wherof vniteth and lifteth the spirits so high as heauen. And albeit I am yet so young in yeeres and discretion, as I cannot be exempt from the ill you complaine on: yet am I not vnprouided of desire to hasten the time, when we shall liue together merrye and contented. Ah Madame, saide Amadis, the hope of that happie day, shall make me passe this mournfull life in paci­ence, supporting for your honor my inward paines so co­uertly as I can, and bearing the outward with what cou­rage possible I may: but I beséech ye doo me the fauour, as to tell me when it will be. Well perceiued Oriana, that he had not thorowly vnderstood her meaning, wherfore in smi­ling she saide. It is already begun, but the dazeling of your eyes will not let you see it. Heerwith Amadis became very pensiue, holding his eyes stedfastly fixed on her, and she to change his sadnes, tooke him by the hand thorow the windowe: which Amadis kissed a thousand times, with­out any woord passing betweene them, and Mabila no­ting it, she came to them saying: Gentles you forget your selues. Amadis lifting vp his head, curteously saluted her, she dooing the like to him, and after sundry spéeches of welcome, as also how long they desired to sée him: Ma­bila demaunded, what length of time he intended to stay in the Courte. So long as it shall please Madame Oriana, answered Amadis. It must be then continually, quoth Oriana, and you shall graunt it if the King request it, swéete Madame, answered Amadis, if it please his Ma­iestie so much to honor me, I will obey both him and you: yet will I dissemble strangenes a while. All the better, replied Mabila, and in the mean time I pray ye visit vs often. Longer they would haue continued in talke, but Gandalin gaue them warning how the daye appeared, wherfore he saide to Amadis. My Lord, me thinkes you [Page] are importunate, but then you must néeds accuse the day. Amadis gaue no eare to him, for he proceeded on still with his deuise: but Oriana perceiuing Gandalin said true, thus spake to Amadis. Now go my Lord if you please, for it is time, and forget not your promise. Then taking her by the hand, and kissing it, he went to horsseback, returning to the wood where he left the Damosels, who had by intreatie earnestly perswaded him, to goe deliuer their Cozin that the King held captiue, vntill such time she presented her Champion, as you haue heard: wherefore after they had rested till morning, they returned to the Towne, in the greatest fauour and expectation of the world.

EArely the next morning, Amadis ar­med himselfe, and mounting on horsseback, rode presently to the Towne accompanyed with the two Damosels: where being arriued, they brought him to their Cozins lodging, when the good Lady kno­wing her worthie Champion, fal­ling on her knees before him, sayd. My Lord, all the goods I haue you gaue me, for of you I holde them and no other, dispose therefore of them as you please: but Amadis brake her off in this manner. Come Lady, let vs goe before the King, to the end he may acquite you, and I returne where vrgent affaires call me: so ta­king off his Helmet, he rode on to the Pallace with the three Ladies. The people knowing him to be the man that ouer-came Dardan, made such thronging in the stréetes to [Page 80] sée him, as the King was giuen to vnderstand thereof: and he reioysing at his comming, honored him so much, as he came to meete and receiue him on the way, thus speaking to him. Worthie Knight, hither are you so welcome as may be deuised, because we haue been very desirous to sée you. Amadis noting this gracious entertainment, setting his knée to the ground, thus answered. The God of heauen giue your Maiestie a long and happie life: then the King taking him by the hand, caused him to arise, saying. Right glad am I to haue knowledge of you, being a Knight of so excellent deseruing: these words enforced Amadis to blush, yet he replyed in this manner. My Lord, to desire the Ladyes discharge whome you caused to be detained, I am bold to come before your Highnesse: and seeing she hath answered the Lawe according to your appointment, héereafter I hope she may enioy her libertie, yet till this present she knew not who maintained her quarrell against Dardan. While the King and Amadis thus conferred to­gether, a number of people gathered about them, some commending his beautie, other his gallant youth, and all in generall his famous Chiualrie: in that he being so young, had the power to vanquish Dardan, who was re­doubted and feared through all great Brittayne. By this time sundrie spéeches past betweene him and the King, where-among he dissembled his spéedie departure, to prouoke a desire in him to stay him, and thus spake A­madis. Dread Lord, seeing the Lady is frée, I desire leaue for my returne againe: but if in ought I may do your Maiestie any seruice, I am the man readie to be comman­ded, and you the Prince whome most I desire to honor. Good fréend, quoth the King, your departure must not be so soone, except you delight to displease me. God forbid, answered Amadis, in respect my endeuour is altogether to obey you. Do you thinke, sayd the King, it is any obedience, if I may not intreate a longer stay? In sooth my Lord, quoth Amadis, you may and shall commaund, [Page] for in greater matters then this I will not offend ye. Goe then and vnarme you, replied the King, and speaking these woordes, him selfe took him by the hand, conducting him to a sumptuous Chamber, where he left him to take some re­fection, with Arban King of Norgalles, and the Duke of Glocester, whome he commaunded to kéepe him company: for King Lisuart was a Prince, that especially fauoured and honored strange Knightes. Hauing left Amadis thus woorthely accompanied, he went to the Quéene, and tolde her in what manner he had staied the good Knight who o­uercame Dardan. But doo ye my Lord, quoth she, know his name? No verily, answered the King, for in respect of the promise I made him, I durst not demaund that questi­on of him. It may be, saide the Quéene, he is the Sonne to King Perion of Gaule. I would it might fall out so well▪ an­swered the King. Doo you know, quoth the Quéene, who may put vs out of this doubt? euen the Squire that talked with Mabtla, who came to search him in your Courte, and saide, how he was aduertised of his arriuall in this Coun­trye long before. Immediatly the King caused Gandalin to be called, and without declaring any thing to him, thus spake: Follow me, for I must shew a Knight to thée, that I may be resolued if thou know him or no. Gandalin atten­ded on the King, entring the Chamber where Amadis was, and Gandalin viewing him very earnestly, feigned to haue seene him long time since, then setting his knee to the ground, saide. Ah my Lord, great trauaile haue I endu­red to finde you, since I departed from the Scottish Court. Gandalin my good freend? right hartely art thou welcome to me, what newes doost thou bring? None but good my Lord, answered Gandalin, all your noble freendes are in perfect health, commending them-selues to your excellencie, but hence-foorth Sir you must conceale your selfe no longer: then turning to the King he thus procéeded. Mighty King, he that hath beene so long time vnknowne, is this braue Prince the famous Amadis, Sonne to the inuincible King [Page 81] Perion of Gaule: and then came his Father to vnderstand so much, when he slewe in combate the puissant King Abi­es of Ireland, by meanes wherof he recouered his Realme which was well néere lost. By these deuises was Amadis discouered, and better welcommed then before: for til then he was not knowen but through his famous déedes, the re­nowne wherof was euery where blazed abroad, and now was he so well honoured for his vertue as his noblenes re­quired. So spent they the whole day in honorable feasting, vntill such time as eche one withdrew him self, when King Lisuart commaunded the King of Norgalles, that he should lodge in Amadis Chāber: afterward whē they were alone, to sound his minde, and vnderstand by all meanes possible, if he would consent to remain in his seruice. Thus leauing them together, he returned to the Quéene, and to her thus spake. Madame, hardly shall I cause Amadis to stay as mine, nor can I tell which way to compasse it, albeit I ne­uer had greater desire to any Gentleman of long time, for the high account is helde of him, would cause mée to be much more feared and redoubted. My Lord, quoth the Quéene, graunt him any thing he shall demaund, and doo your selfe present him what you imagine will best please him. He requesteth nothing of me, replied the King, for if he did, I would consent therto more willingly thē he could desire. Me thinkes it were good, saide the Quéen, to intreat him first by some other of our Courte, and if they cannot preuaile, will him to come sée me, your Daughter and our Cozin Mabila: they likewise shall sollicite the matter, for they knew him when he serued them as a Squire. Then shall we let him vnderstand, how all the Knightes héer are yours, and none but thinkes him selfe honored therby: him will we desire to be one of the company, that you may en­ioy his seruice when need shall require. This will be a good meane, answered the King to procure his stay, and if he will not be wonne by you, we may well iudge him of lesse ciuilitie then Chiualrie. Now because it wexed somewhat [Page] late, the King bad his Quéene good night, and went to his Chamber. On the other side, the King of Norgalles per­swaded his new come guest, that he would abide in the Court of King Lisuart: but Amadis could so cunningly dis­semble, that he altogether disguised the chéefe poynt of his desire, and might not by all these intreties be wun. When he perceiued he laboured in vaine, on the morrow morning he brought him to the King, of whome Amadis made offer to take his leaue: but the King answered him in this man­ner. My good fréend, you should haue doone me pleasure not to departe so soone, yet can I not constraine ye to tarye a­gainst your will, but my Queene would gladly sée you be­fore your departure. Nor will I goe my Lord, answered Amadis, before I haue doone my dutye to her: wherupon, taking him by the hand, he brought him into her chamber, and thus spake to her. Sée héere Madame King Perions sonne of Gaule, who is come to salute you before his de­parture. In sooth my Lord, answered the Queene, he dooth me great honor, and he is very hartely welcome hither. Then Amadis stepping to her, fell on his knée to kisse her hand, but she caused him to rise and sit downe by her: when the King perceiuing they would enter into further talke, with-drew himselfe to discourse with his Knights, while they conferred together. In meane while the Queene [...]ur­teously entertained Amadis, but the other Ladyes and Gentlewomen, who had heard such fame of his beautie and excellent perfections, began to eye him very diligently, meruailing that nature had so enriched him, with the only thing they most desired. Now knew Amadis by their coun­tenances what iudgement they held of him, yet durst he net turne his head aside, fearing least seeing his Oriana, (by some sudden mutation) he might reueale what carefully he coueted to hide. And as he continued in this perplexitie, the Princesse Mabila came and did him reuerence, where­vpon the Quéene (the better to compasse her intent) called her Daughter, who dissembled as if she scant knewe him, [Page 82] and thus she spake to her. Faire Daughter, remember you not the Sonne to King Perion of Gaule, who serued you well while he was your Squire, & yet may do (if it please him) now he is a Knight? in sooth, you must all assist me in desiring him to graunt me one request. And know ye what it is? quoth she to Amadis, the King earnestly intreateth you to remaine in his Court, and yet as I vnderstand, you haue no will to affoord him so small a fauour. We shall see anon, if Ladyes hold greater priuiledge in Knights, then men do, therefore we all ioyne together in one sute, that you would be Knight to my Daughter and my selfe, and likewise to them whome you sée in this faire company. And if you will do so much for vs, you shall deliuer vs from séeking support in any other, who happily cannot be to a­gréeable so vs: for well we know if you be our Knight, we shall surpasse all them that attend on the King. The La­dyes were before aduertised what they should do in this case, wherefore they flocked about him altogether, and with signes of earnest supplication, confirmed the Quéenes request: especially Oriana, who gaue him a signe that he should consent, but he very wisely dissembled it, although he had no other desire in the world: wherefore the Quéene séeing him so slowe in answering, as if she would haue pres­sed him thereto, said. Well Sir Amadis, what? shall we be denied? Madame, replied Amadis, what is he that dare do otherwise, then graunt your will and these Ladies pre­sent, séeing you are the most honorable Quéene of the world, and they likewise deserue the highest point of ser­uice? therefore Madame, by your commaundement and the Princesse Oriana, as also these other Ladyes who are loth to be denied, I am content to tarry with you: yet vn­der this condition, that I will do nothing but for you on­ly, and if I accomplish any seruice for the King, it shall be yours and none of his. Then as our Champion, answered the Queene, all we accept you: and these glad tidings she soone sent to the King, who was so highly pleased there­with, [Page] that he commaunded the King of Norga [...]les to go [...] and beare him company, and himselfe for ioy went present­ly to him, when taking him in his armes, he said. Gentle Knight, right glad am I of your consent to the Queene, and for my part be you well assured, that my desire is to intreate ye according to your deserts. Amadis on his knee humbly thanked him, albeit he only stayd by the com­mandement of Oriana, and no such other matter as he feigned to the Quéene.

For this time the Author leaueth Amadis, returning where he left the Prince Galaor, who being departed from the Duke of Brystoyaes Castell, where the villainous Dwarffe vnhappily discouered him: all that day he wan­dered in the Forrest of Arinida, not meeting any one to di­rect him a more ready way, yet toward euening, he sawe a Squire come toward him, mounted on a right good Cour­ser. Now had Galaor receiued a certaine wound, by one of the thrée Knights that assailed him as you haue heard, which by reason of dallying with his new fréend the night past, began to fester and ranckle verie much, and féeling himselfe not halfe currant, he said to the Squire. My fréend, knowest thou where I may finde cure for a small wound I haue? What if I do? answered the Squire, yet will I not company any such coward as thou art, because it were to my shame and discredit if I should. Enough of that, said Galaor, tell me where I may find helpe for my wound? Rather, quoth the Squire, would I séeke one to giue thée another. Shew me the way, answered Galaor, and I will aduenture what thou fearest me withall. I may chuse, said the Squire, except I list. Day thou shalt do it, quoth Galaor, by fréendship or force. By force? replyed the Squire, thinkest thou I will do any thing for so bad and false a Knight as thou art? When Galaor heard him speak so imperiously, he drew his Sword, making shew as if he would smite off his head, saying. Uillaine thou shalt conduct me, else will I send thy soule to all the Deuils. [Page 83] The Squire being affrayd, thus answered. Séeing thou enforcest me, I will bring thée to a place where thy folly shall be chastised, and my outrage reuenged. Heerewith he rode before, leauing the right way, Galaor following some distance behinde im, and by tune they had ridden the length of a mile, they came to a Fortresse seated in a plea­sant valley, brauely enuironed about with trees: the Squire then pointing him to the place, said. Now mayst thou let me goe, for heere I hope will be reuenged the iniu­rie thou hast done me. Goe thy way to all the Deuils, re­plyed Galaor, for I haue enough of thy company. Scant wilt thou like my conducting, said the Squire, before thou departest from this Castell: wherewith he turned bridle and away, but Galaor followed the path that guided to the Castell, which in his iudgement was but newly edified, and being come to the Gate, he sawe within a Knight ar­med mounted on horsseback, attended on by fiue Halber­ders, prouided to forbid entraunce into the Castell: who comming to him, demaunded if he were the man that abu­sed their Squire. I know not, answered Galaor, whether he be your Squire or no, but hither am I come by the conduct of a varlet, the most audacious Roge that euer I knewe. It may be so, replyed the Knight of the Castell: but what would you haue in this place? Sir, quoth Galaor, I am fore wounded, and seeke for one to giue me helpe. Enter then, said the Knight. Galaor rode in, but presently the Knight and his Souldiours very fiercely assailed him, yet the first that came before him, thinking to strike at his head with his Halberd, was followed so néere: as Galaor snatched his weapon out of his hand, giuing the Knight such a wound therewith, that he fell downe dead. Then entring among the other, he gaue them so many rough and sharpe charges, as in the end thrée of them were slaine outright, the other two fled so fast as they could into the Castell: and Galaor would haue pursued them, but that his Squire cryed to him: My Lord take your Armes, for within me [Page] thinks I heare a great rumour of people, my self [...] take this hatche [...] to assist ye if you stand in neede: and al­though I am vnworthie the order of [...]hwalr [...]e, yet will & defend my Lord to my vttermost habilitie: so threwe he downe the hatchet, taking vp a Halberd and a Sheeld be­longing to one of them that were slaine. Assure thy selfe, answered Galaor, so soone as I finde him that gaue me Knighthood, thou shalt for thy forwardnes likewise haue [...]i [...]e. So passing further, they sawe two other armed Knights come foorth, and ten Souldiours with them, who were brought out at the gate by the other that fled away. Now was the Squire that conducted Galaor to this Ca­stell, standing shewing him selfe at one of the Casements, and he cried alowde to this fresh supply: Kill him, kill him, but saue his horsse to doo me seruice. Galaor looking vp, pre­sently knew him, at whose woordes his hart was so enra­ged, that he fiercely ran to méete the newe assaylants: in which encounter their Launces brake, especially Galaor on him who gaue the first charge, as he made him sure enough from euer bearing armes afterward. Then setting hand to Swoord auaunced himselfe to the other, deliuering him so sound a greeting, that he tumbled from his Horsse with his heeles vpward: and turning to the Halberders on foot, he saw his Squire had dispatched two of them, wherfore to harten him the more, he thus cryed to him. My fréend thou hast begun very well, not one of the rest shall escape vs, because such villaines are vnwoorthy to liue. When the Squire that was in the windowe saw this bloody con­ [...] [...] ran vp a Ladder into a high Tower, crying [...]ut so loud as he could in this manner. My Lord, arme your selfe vnlesse you meane to be slaine. By chaunce Ga­ [...] vnderstood him, wher-upon he stepped aside to beholde [...] should ensue, when presently he saw a Knight came [...], and one bringing a Horsse for him ready to [...] but [...] stepping between, laid hand on the b [...]i­ [...]le, giuing these speeches to y^e Knight. An other time Sir, [Page 84] [...] to [...]ount your selfe sooner, for I haue occasion to vse [...] Horsse, and meane to keepe him till you can get him [...]. Greatly astonied was the Knight when he heard him, because all this while he had not séene him, wherfore he returned this answere. Are you he that haue slaine my two Nephewes, and the other héere in the Castell? I know not who you aske for, replyed Galaor, but this I can assure ye, how I found heere the most disloyall and bad minded people, that euer I delt withall. I tell thée, said the knight, they whom thou hast slaine were better then thou art, and deerely shalt thou pay for thy boldenes. Héer-upon they began a fierce and cruell combate on foote, for the Knight of the Castell was a man of great valour, and such as had seene this dangerous fight, would haue meruailed that they could endure halfe so many blowes. Yet in the end, the Knight found him selfe too weake for Galaor, wherfore he thought to saue him selfe by flight: but he was followed so néere, as hauing entred a Porche, he was constrained to leap out at a windowe, and falling on a great heape of stones, with weight of his armour brake his necke. When Galaor saw his desperate end, he returned back curssing the Castell and the wicked inhabitantes, and passing by a chamber, he heard a very dolefull voice crying: Ah my Lord, leaue me not to suffer any more. Galaor stepping néerer, saide. Open the doore then. Ah Sir, I cannot, an­swered the voice, for I am tyed with a strong chaine. By these woordes, Galaor knew well it was some prisoner, wherfore he ran against the doore with his foote so strong­ly, that he made it flye from off the hindges, and entring, behelde a faire Damosell tied by the necke with a great chayne, who thus spake to Galaor. Alas my Lord, what is become of the maister of this Castell and his companie? They be all dead, quoth he, for comming hither to seeke cure for a wound I receiued in fight, they caused me to en­ter, and afterward set vpon me: but by the helpe of God I haue so well defended my selfe, as they shall neuer d [...] [Page] [...] to any liuing body, Heauen be praised, an­swered the Damosell, for your happy successe, and leaue [...]e not in this miserie, for béeing deliuered, right soon shall I make whole and sound your wounds. Presently did Ga­laor breake the chaine, and the Damosell took out of a Co­fer two little bottles, with other precious thinges belon­ging to the Lord of the Castell, and so came downe toge­ther into the Courte: where Galaor perceiued how the first Knight he iousted withall was not yet dead, but trauai­ling to his end, wherfore to let him languish no longer, he so trampled on his brest with his horsse féete, as quickly his soule forsooke the body, afterward they rode away de­uising on many matters.

This Damosell was wife, well gouerned and of good grace, wherby she could so queintly answere and intreate Galaor, that he became highly enamoured of her: and bee­ing able to indure no longer this kindled fire of affection, thought good to make some proofe if she would loue him, wher-upon he thus began. You know (faire Damosell and my freend) that I haue deliuered you from prison, but in giuing you libertie, I am become my selfe captiue, and brought into great danger vnlesse you helpe me. You may be well assured my Lord, quoth she, that the matter were very difficulte, wherin I would not obey you, standing so deepely bounden to you as I doo: for otherwise I might be reckoned among the most ingratefull women of the world, considering the misery you so lately deliuered me from▪ and therfore doo I remaine at your disposition. In these famili­ar conferences they procéeded so farre, as the execution of this hotte loue soone after followed, tasting together the benefite of such content, as other may do the like that haue so good fortune: and thus merily they passe this night, in the Pauillion of certaine Hunters they met withall in this Forrest, So Galaor receined by this Damosell, ease of his new wound loue had made, and cure of the other he got in sight.

[Page 85]For certaine daies they remained in this wood, during [...] the Damosell tolde him, how she was daugh­ter to [...] the Fleming, not long since County of Claire by the gift of King Lisuart, and a Lady whom he had often intreated as his fréend. But one day, quoth she, beeing with my Mother in a Monasterie not farre hence, the Lord of this Castell (whome you haue slaine) demaunded me in mariage, and because my parents misliked therof, by reason of his vngracious behauiour: he watched a day when I was sporting among other Damoselles, from whom he forcibly caryed me away, furiouslye thrusting me into the prison where ye found me, saying. Be well assu­red Damosel, that seeing thou hast disdained to match with me in mariage, and made so little account of my great re­nowne: while thou liuest thou shalt not departe hence, till thy Mother and the rest of thy kinred come intreate me to take thée as my wife. Perceiuing how seuerely he was bent against me, I set downe my rest on pacient hope, thin­king it better for a time to endure that captiuitie, then by making him my Husband suffer a woorsse. Great reason had ye therin, answered Galaor, but tell me now I pray ye, at parting hence what shall become of you? for I am con­strained to make little stay, and must trauaile very farre, being too much trouble for you to follow me. I desire ye, quoth she, conduct me to the Monasterie from whence I was taken, for my Mother is there, who will be right ioy­full to sée me at libertie. With all my hart, replied Galaor: so mounting on horsse-back, about Sun setting they ar­riued at the Monasterie, where they were receiued with great ioy, especially when the Damosell had declared his woorthy déedes of chiualrie for her: and albeit he determi­ned a speedy departure, yet at the request of y^e faire Sisters, he taried there longer then before he intended. Héere pau­seth the Author on this matter, to tell ye what happened to the Prince Agraies, since his returne from the warres in Gaule.

AGraies returned from his enterprise in Gaule, after Ama [...] had vanqui­shed King Agraies of Ireland, and was knowen to his Father and mo­ther as you haue heard: addressed his iourney toward Norway, where he hoped to finde his Lady Oliuia. Riding one day along somewhat neere the Sea side, on a sudden he had a Hart in chase, which when he had some prettie while pursued, he gained at length the top of a mountaine, from whence he might easily discearne the raging bellowes of the Sea. Suddenly arose an excéeding great tempest, which with mighty windes so troubled the water, and the thunder ratled with such violence, as if heauen and the neather region would haue met together. At length he espied a Ship tossed in the tempest, vtterly destitute of any safetie, and (which was woorsse) subiect to the mercy of a darke comfortlesse night ensuing: wherwith he being mooued to pitie, commaunded his Squires (as asignall) to make certaine blazes of fire, that they in the Ship might chuse their best landing place, without perishing in the darke, him selfe minding to stay to see the end: which happened so well, by the help of God and dilligence of the Mariners, as the Ship tooke safe har­bour neere where Agraies was, when they landed certaine Ladies, who were greatly frighted with y^e mercilesse tem­pest thinking they could not haue escaped so long. Agraies being one of the most curteous Princes in the wolrde, sée­ [...] them so well landed and free from danger▪ sent one of [...]is S [...]es, to will them come and refresh them-selues in [Page 86] [...]is Pauillion: which gentlenes they refused not, and be­cause he was lothe to be troublesome to them, knowing they had now néed of nothing more then rest, he concluded this night not to sée them, keeping him selfe close in his chamber. The Ladies beeing seperated to their owne con­tentement, the Mariners made great fiers on the shoare to drye their garments, and afterward fell to sleeping that they wakened not till next morning. Agraies desirous to see strange women, yet more to serue and honor them, then remoue his affection from where it was setled: priuily pri­ed in to beholde their countenances, they béeing round set about a fier, reciting to eche other pleasantly their passed danger. As thus he listened their discourses, among the rest he knew the Princesse Oliuia, toward whom he was tra­uailing by vertue of her message: and you must imagine him so intirely addicted to her seruice, as also she in affecti­on to him, that they might well be tearmed happy in their loue. No sooner had Agraies espied her, but he was so ouer­come ther-with, as béeing no longer able to dissemble, ha­uing before his eyes her so late perill of ship-wracke, he breathed foorth a vehement sigh, saying: Ah diuine comfort, helpe me. When the Ladies heard this crye, especiallye Oliuia, thinking some one of their company was not well, commaunded her women to open the doore: which present­ly they did, when Agraies tolde one of them who he was, that she might secretly imparte he same to her Mistresse, the newes wherof were so welcome to her, as immediatly she commaunded him to enter. Then were embracinges and kisses fréely entercoursed, with all other gracious fa­uours so kinde louers could deuise, euen y^e very point wher­in loue most triumpheth: so that the faire Princesse lost the name of a mayden, with like contentmēt as other who haue assaied, and can more then imagine what I meane. So pleasing was this happy meeting, as they soiourned there sir dayes together, beguiling the time with ricipro­call courtesies, yet so secretly, as none in the company [Page] (except her [...] Damoselles) perceiued.

Meane while the Sea became nauigable, the weather faire, and the waters calme: which made the Princesse de­termine to goe aboord her Ship, that she might passe into great Brittaine▪ whether the King her Father had sent her, to be nourished by the Quéene Brisana. Which béeing vn­derstood by Agraies, after he had acquainted her with the cause of his iourney, he gaue her assuraunce: that very shortly he would come to her, as wel to shew her his faith­full seruice, as also to séeke his Cosin Amadis in King Li­suartes Courte, according as he made him promise, wher­with she was not a little contented, desiring him earnestly not to tarry long from her. Thus curteously taking leaue of eche other, the Princesse Oliuia departed vnder sayle, and in few dayes after they landed in great Brittaine, when comming to Windsore where King Lisuart kept his court: both by him, the Quéene, Oriana, and all the other Ladies, was the Princesse and her traine graciously welcommed, as well to honor the King her Father, as also in respecte of her excellent beauty.

Now remained Agraies on the Sea shore, giuing ma­ny a long looke after the Ship which caried away the iew­ell of his hart, and hauing lost the sight of it, he tooke his way to Briantes a right good towne in Scotland, where the King his Father soiourned, and his Uncle Galuanes with­out land, in whose company he intended shortlye to visite King Lisuartes Courte. For there, quoth he to Galuanes, shall we finde more good Knights, then in any other Court of King christian, there likewise may we gaine honor and renowne better then in Scotland: where we haue none to trye our selues against, vnlesse some fewe that slenderlye followe armes. This Galuanes was of gentle hart & a good Knight, desirous among other to reach the top of honor, yet of simple habilitie as you haue heard before: now the en­terprise of these twaine thus concluded, after they had ob­tained licence of the King, they went on boord with their [Page 87] Horsse and Armour, eche one likewise a Squire attending on him, Hauing winde at will, in short time they landed at Bristowe, where they made no long aboade, but riding through a Forrest, they met a Damosell who demaunded of them, if that way would conduct her to the Rock of Gal­teres. No, quoth they, but tell vs Damosell why you tra­uaile thether? To see if I can finde the good Knight, saide she, who knoweth how to remedy a gréefe I endure at this present. You abuse your self Damosell, answered Agraies, for at the Rock you demaund, you shall finde no other Knight then the great Giant Albadan, to whom if you bring any cause of sorrow, he will quickly double it on your owne head. If you knew so much as I doo, quoth the Da­mosell, you would not imagine me to be abused; because the Knight I aske for hath vanquished the Giant, and kild him in battell hand to hand. Beléeue me Uirgin, replyed Galuanes, you tell vs matter of great meruaile, in respecte neuer any Knight dealt alone with a Giant, vnlesse it was King Abies of Ireland, who combated with one, him selfe being armed, and the Giant naked, which was the cause of his death, and yet this attempt of the King, is thought the greatest stratageme that euer was heard of: then sound not your spéeches to any likely-hood, for this Giant surpasseth all other in strength and crueltie. Gentleman, answered the Damosell, the Knight I speake of hath doone no lesse then I tolde ye: wherwith she rehearsed the whole maner therof, they reputing it strange & almost incredible, which caused Agraies to aske her, if she knew y^e Knightes name. His name (quoth she) is Galaor, Sonne to King Pe­rion of Gaule. Ah Lady, said Agraies, you declare the only newes of the world to content me withall, naming my Co­zin, who more commonly was reputed dead then liuing: kéer-upon he reported to Galuanes, what he had heard con­cerning Galaor, how he was taken away by the Giant, and till this instant he neuer heard of him. By my faith, answe­red Galuanes, the life of him and his brother is miraculous, [Page] and their beginning of chiualrie so famous, as I thinke their like is not to be found through the world, but Damo­sell, what would you haue with that Knight? My Lord, quoth she, I seeke his aide on the behalfe of a Damosell, who is imprisoned by the accusation of a Dwarffe, the most villainous creature that euer was borne: heereto she added the whole discourse of Galaor and the Dwarffe, as hath been already declared to you, yet she concealed y^e loue­ly pranck of Aldena. And because Sir, said she, the Damo­sell will not confirme what the Dwarffe hath auouched, the Duke of Bristoya hath sworne, that within ten dayes she shall be burned aliue: which is an occasion of great greefe to the other Ladies, doubting least she through feare of death will accuse some of them, and tell withall to what end Galaor came into the Dukes Castell: more-ouer, of the ten dayes, foure are already expired. Séeing it falleth out so, answered Agraies, you neede trauaile no further, for we will perfourme what Galaor should doo, if not in strength, yet in good will, and therfore be you our guide to the place. The Damosell turned her haqueney, and led them with such spéede to the Dukes Castell, that they arriued there the daye before the execution should be. Now was the Duke set downe to dinner, when the two Knightes entring the great hall, humbly saluted him, and when he saw them, he requested they would sit downe to dinner with him: but they answered▪ that he should preset­ly know the cause of their comming, wher-upon Galuanes thus began. My Lord, you detaine a Damosell prisoner, by the false & disloyall accusation of a traiterous Dwarffe, we desire that she may be deliuered, séeing she hath no way mis-doone: and if it be needfull to proue her innocencye by battaile, let come two other Knightes to maintaine the quarrell for we are ready as her defenders. Well haue you said, replyed the Duke: and calling for the Dwarffe, thus spake to him. What answerest thou to these Knightes challenge, who say that falsely thou hast caused me to im­prison [Page 88] the Damosell, and will proue it against thee in open battaile? it behooueth thee to finde some defence for thy self, For that I am not to seeke my Lord, quoth the Dwarffe, I haue such on my behalfe, who shall make known the trueth of what I haue saide. Héer-with he called a frollick Knight his Nephewe, so like him in pitch and proportion, as one would haue thought he had no other Father, to him he saide. I pray ye Nephewe maintaine my quarrell against these two Knightes. Scarse had he thus sp [...]ken, but his Nephewe returned this answere to Galuanes and his com­panion. Well Gentlemen, what will you say against this loyall Dwarffe, who was so iniured by the Knight the the false Damosell brought hether? it may be one of you is the man I speake off: but whether it be or no, I will proue in combate he dealt villainously, and the Damosell ought to dye, because she brought him into my Lord the Dukes chamber. Agraies who found him selfe most touched in his owne conceite, stepped foorth with this answere. In sooth, neither of vs is the man, albeit we desire to imitate his vertues, but we auouche he hath doone no wrong, and if the Duke please, this difference shall be soone discided: for on his behalfe will I maintaine, that the Damosell ought to be deliuered, and the Dwarffe in her stead burned as a traiterous villaine. I iustifie the contrary, replyed the Dwarffes champion: then calling for his Armour, full soone was he mounted on a gentle courser, and turning to Agraies who presented him y^e combat, thus spake. Would God Knight thou wert the man by whom this quarrel be­gan, too high a price should I set on thy [...]. We shall quickly see, quoth Agraies, what thou ca [...] d [...] but [...] a [...] as­sured if he were present, he would make no account of two such braggers as thou art, how iust or vniust the cause were on his side: by greater reason then doo I leaue thée to iudge, how notably he would handle thee in this, consi­sting on trueth and equitie. While these menaces thus passed on either side, the Duke stirred not from the table [Page] till dinner was doone, when séeing the Knightes prepare [...] to execute their spéeches, he conducted them with a braue company of Gentlemen, to the place appointed to end such controuersies, where all accustomed ceremonies béeing ob­serued, the Duke thus spake to Agraies. Perfourme the vttermost of your habilitie, yet shall not the Damosell be deliuered: for to the Dwarffe hath not béene offered iniury alone, but to such beside as are of higher reckoning then your selfe. My Lord, quoth Agraies, you caused her to be apprehended only by his false accusation, and he hath de­ceiued your iudgement with a lye: wherfore if my fortune make me conquerour, you ought by good reason to deliuer her. I haue tolde ye what I meane to doo, said the Duke, and other-wise it shall not be. Agraies tarying for no more woordes, turned his horsse, running a braue carrire against the Dwarffes Knight, and in the encounter brake their s [...]aues gallantly, meeting likewise so furiouslye with their bodies, as they were both laide along on the ground: yet quickly they recouered them-selues, and vnsheathing their weapons, deliuered fierce and cruell strokes to eche other, their Swoordes béeing very sharpe, the Knightes valiant and hautilye disposed, by meanes whereof their Armour, healmes and shéeldes, were in shorte time made of slender resistaunce: yet Galuanes well saw, how his Nephewe had still the better on his enemye, if then he had before estéemed him a good Knight, farre greater reason had he now so to doo: notwithstanding, he was so hot and vigorous, as of­ten times he seemed out of breath, which made euery one imagine (regarding his violence) that he could not long endure. But in him it prooued farre other-wise, for the lon­ger the combate endured, his courage and strength the more encreased, by reason whereof he became the conque­rour, as shall héerafter be declared. The Nephewe to the Dwarffe found him selfe so hardly handled, as he drewe back a little, thus speaking to Agraies. Me thinkes Sir Knight we haue made proofe enough, of what we are able [Page 99] to perfourme in these affaires, wherfore I am of the opini­on, that he whose quarrell I vndertake, and the other for whom you entred fight: are not faulty in any thing wher­with they are charged, otherwise our combate could not thus long haue endured, but victorie would fall to one of vs. Well hast thou saide, answered Agraies, that y^e Knight for whom I venter is iust and loyall, but the Dwarffe is a villaine and a traitour: nor will I suffer thee to rest, till with thine owne mouth thou confesse as much, defend thy selfe therfore better then thou hast doone. These angrye woordes did somewhat eleuate the Dwarffes Knights cou­rage, but he had lost so much blood, that he was no longer able to holde out, by meanes wherof Agraies took his plea­sure on him, because the other did nothing but defend his stroakes: which when the Duke behelde, by reason he fa­uoured him, he was highly displeased, and to shun the sight of his death, departed toward his Castell, swearing thence forward to woorke reuenge for him on all Knightes errant, by dooing them all the shame he could possibly deuise. He being in this furie spake so loude, as Galuanes ouer-heard him, wherfore he thus answered. Duke thou doost enter­prise a great warre, especially against such as are knowen to more woorthy Lords then thou art, séeking thus to smo­ther vp the blame of others. As thus he contended with the Duke, the Dwarffes champion fell at Agraies féete, who immediatly snatching off his Helmet, caught him by the head, giuing him many blowes with the hiltes of his Swoord on the face, saying. Confesse the disloyaltie of the Dwarffe, otherwise thy life is at an end. Ah gentle knight, quoth he, give me my life, for I truely confesse, that he who you fight for is vertuous & loyall, and promise withal to gaine the Damoselles release from imprisonment: but for Gods sake I desire ye, let me not reprooue the Dwarffe mine Unckle with treason. These woordes were by all the assistantes easily vnderstood, which moouing Agraies to pit­tie, he thus answered. For the Dwarffe I will doo nothing, [Page] but for you béeing a good Knight, I graunt the fauour of your discharge: prouided that you labour to your vtter­most for the Damoselles release from prison, according as you haue faithfully promised.

All this while the Duke heard none of these woordes, because he was gone somewhat further off: but Galuanes laide holde on his horsse-bridle, saying. By God (Duke) you shall not departe hence, vntill you haue séen the extre­mitye of your Champion: for he is either dead or vanqui­shed, what answere then make ye concerning the Damo­selles right, and the trecherous iniurye offered her by the Dwarffe? What? saide the Duke, thinkest thou I will break mine oathe, or doo any otherwise then I haue deter­mined? I know not, quoth Galuanes, what conclusion you haue appointed. Mary this, replyed the Duke, that she shalbe to morrow morning burned, if she tell not what mo­ued her, to cause the Knight come hither whom she conduc­ted. Why? quoth Galuanes, will ye not thē deliuer her? No, said the Duke, and if thou prouide not for thy spéedy depar­ture out of my countrie, thou shalt well know that thou hast displeased me. Is it true? answered Galuanes, doo ye threaten me contrary to all equitie, and will not discharge the Damosell so honourably iustified? By heauen hence­foorth I defie thee, as well on mine own behalf, as all other knights errant whatsoeuer. Very wel, quoth the Duke, the like doo I to th [...]e, and all such as thou resemblest. So went the Duke into his Castell, and Galuanes returned in an ex­ceeding chafe to Agraies, but reioycing at his Nephewes glorious victorie, he somewhat qualified his angry choller: yet did he tell him all the Dukes menaces, and what deff­aunce had past on either side, wherwith Agraies was very much mooued, chéefely for the wrong he threatned to the Damosell, wher-upon he thus replied. In sooth my Lord and Uncle, it is against all reason, that such a palliard as the Duke, possessed of so great a Signorie, should carry so vile and bad a minde. Hauing thus spoken, he called for [Page 90] his horsse, which béeing brought him he mounted theron, speaking thus to the vanquished Knight. My fréend remē ­ber your promise, and accomplishe it so soone as you can, that the Damosell may be released from her imprison­ment. In good faith, quoth he, I will perfourme my vtter­most habilitie therin. So rode away Agraies and Galuanes toward the Forrest of Arinida, where when they entred, Galuanes thus began. You know Nephewe, that I haue defied the Duke, in respect of the iniury he offered vs: but if I might giue aduise, I would thinke it good for vs, to am­bush our selues a while in this wood, where we may easilye take him or some of his. I promise ye, said Agraies, I like well your councell: wherfore without passing any fur­ther, they made choice of a little thicket, where they a­lighted, sending their Squires to the towne to prouide them victualles.

On the other side, the Duke (as you haue heard) béeing with-drawen to his Castell, grew into such displeasure a­gainst the Damosell, as he thought presently to send her to the fire: wher-upon he called for her, and willed her now to haue minde on her soule, because the next morning she should be burned, if quickly she declared not the trueth of the Knight: but all these threatnings could not draw one woord from her. Now because the vanquished Knight had promised Agraies, to labour for her deliueraunce to the Duke, so soone as he returned from the féelde, he came and fell on his knées before the Duke: beséeching him most in­stantly to graunt, what he had promised on the Ladies be­halfe. But the Duke by all means excused the matter, say­ing he had sollemnely vowed she should dye, if she reuealed not the thing he was so desirous to know. Therfore, quoth he, I will rather consent to the ruine of my whole estate, then in one iotte to the breache of my oathe. In this man­ner was the Knight denyed, and the next morning very earelye he sent for the Damosell, to whome he spake thus as followeth. Thou lewde and disobedient woman, now [Page] make choice of the fire, or resolue me in the matter I haue demaunded, for one of them thou must doo. My Lord, qu [...]th she, you may appoint what you think good: but if I dye in this manner, it will be against all law and reason. Pre­sently he committed her to two Sergeants at armes, ac­companied with ten Knightes well prouided for their de­fence: and for the more suretye that she should not be re­skewed, him selfe mounted in person on a goodly great horsse, then leauing the towne, along they ride thorow the féeldes by the Forrest side, and being come to the place pre­pared for execution, he commaunded forth [...]with she should be throwen into the fire, saying: Let the stubborne strum­pet dye in her obstinacie. But Agraies and Galuanes béeing ready armed to aduenture their fortune, discerned when the troupe came from the town toward the Forrest, wher­fore without longer tarying, (hauing givē expresse charge to one of their Squires, to haue especiall care of the Da­moselles safetie) s [...]yly left their ambushe, beholding y^e poore maiden ready for the fire, when she perceiuing her present daunger, cryed to the Duke, that she would tell what he desired, only to delay the time of her death. The Duke be­léeuing she intended as she saide, came to her, when sud­denly he espied Agraies and Galuanes gallopping toward him, calling so lowd that he might easily heare thē: Duke, now shalt thou be forced to deliuer the Damosell. At these woordes were all the Dukes Knightes greatly astonished, yet prepared they for their owne defence, wher-upon be­gan betwéene them a fierce and cruell fight. Now though Agraies and Galuanes were alone against so many, yet did they so brauely behaue them-selues, as at the firste onset they quailed the greater parte of them, before they could deuise which way to turne them-selues: wherat the Duke was so amazed, that fearing his owne death was néere at hand, he withdrew him selfe behinde his men, yet Galuanes perceiued it, wherfore he cryed to him. Trayterous Duke, this day thou beginnest to féele the warre thou didst en­terprise [Page 91] against Knights errant: then rushing through the preasse, he minded to charge the Duke, but he retyred a­side, willing his Knightes to kill their enemies horsses, which they on soote might easilye compasse. In bréefe these two champions shewed such chiualrie on their foot-men, as they were vanquished and driuen to flight, the most of thē so cruelly wounded, that they were scant able to kéep them selues on horsse back in their escaping away: and y^e Duke who was better mounted then any of them, made such haste, as he brought the first newes heerof to the towne, béeing eagerly pursued a while by Galuanes, but when he sawe it was in vaine, he returned to the Forrest, where he found his Nephewe and the Squires with the Damosell.

Such was the reskewe of the poore mayden, and shame­full foyle of the Duke, who béeing arriued at the towne, caused with al speed a great number to arme them-selues, returning to the Forrest to reuenge their late iniury, thin­king to finde the Knightes there as yet, but they were dis­lodged: wherfore fayling of their purpose, they dispersed them selues in seuerall troupes, by fiue and fiue in a com­panye to séeke them, the Duke likewise béeing one in the searche, hauing foure of the best Knightes he could make choice off. And as they rode along in a valley, he espied the Knightes conducting the Damosell, wherfore he said to his men. Beholde (my fréends) the traitours we are to deale withall, let vs set on thē before they get leysure to escape: for if they gaine but a sight of vs, they will run away fa­ster then euer we did. But Galuanes espied them ere they came néere, and shewed them to his Nephewe Agraies, who he thought was ouer-weried with the last assaulte, which made him say. We already haue felt what these vil­laines can doo, but now must we warily defend our selues, that we be no more followed in this sorte. I know y^e Duke to be he comes formost, if good hap befall vs, I hope he shall haue his paiment first of al: be now (good Nephew) minde­full of your wunted courage, hauing passed through grea­ter [Page] dangers then this can be. Why Uncle? quoth Agraies, in time of perrill doo you think I will forget my selfe? espe­cially being in your company? dreame of no such matter I pray ye, but let vs serue these as we did their companions. By time he had thus spoken, the Duke gaue the spurres to his horsse, and comming neere them, saide. I am sorrye vil­laynes you should dye so honourablye, but afterward I meane to hang ye by the heeles on the toppes of these trées. Galuanes and Agraies buckled close with them, shewing how much they despised such shamefull buriall: on the o­ther side, the Duke and his Knightes stuck to it closely, especially him selfe, to whom Agraies came, and angerly reached him such a blow with his swoord beneath y^e sight of his Helmet, as quite cut away y^e nosthrilles from his face. The Duke imagining him selfe wounded to the death, tur­ned his back and fled, Agraies following him, but séeing he could not ouertake him, he commended him to all the De­uilles, returning to succour Galuanes, whom y^e other foure had very sore laboured▪ yet did he holde out so couragiously, as none of thē durst come néere him: for one was tumbled headlong from his horsse, not shewing any motion of life was left in him. Agraies béeing now come from pursuing the Duke, buckled so closely with the first he met, as he fell downe depriued of life: so that there remained but two, who found themselues too weak to vphold the honor of the vanquished, and therfore trusted to the speed of their Hor­ses, following the first run-away toward the Forrest, by which meanes they escaped the fury of Agraies and Galuanes, they suffering them to enioy that benefite, & returned where the Damosell attended for them, of whom they de­maunded, if any towne or place of lodging were neere. Gentlemen, quoth she, I know the dwelling of a Knight hard by, named Oliuas, who is mortall enemy to the Duke, by reason he slue a Cozin of his, which makes me think he will the better welcome vs. Be you our guide thither, said Galuanes, and so she was, they béeing very kindely entertai­ned [Page 92] there, especially when he knew what had happened. On the morrow they took their leaue of Oliuas, but calling them aside, he thus spake. Gentlemen, the Duke treche­rously killed a Cozin germaine of mine, who was a good Knight, wherfore I am determined to accuse and combate with him before King Lisuart. Now since I vnderstand you are Knightes errant, and such as know how, or else your selues can redresse the wronges offered to the vnable, yea, by them who (without care of God or their honor) durst proceed so farre: I desire you to giue me your counsell and supporte. In sooth, answered Galuanes, you are deepelye bound to prosecute the murder, béeing committed in such shamefull manner, and we will assist ye in your quarrell on so iust a cause: if the duke will bring any Knights to main­taine his wrong, we will be for you; for so little account makes he of vs, that he hath openly giuen vs defiaunce. Most hartely I thank ye, replyed the Knight, and for this cause I wil goe with ye if you please. Content quoth they. Héer-upon Oliuas armed himselfe, and so they rode toge­ther to Windesore, where they had good hope to finde King Lisuart.

BY the discourse past you haue vn­derstood, how Amadis (after he had in open feelde foyled and ouer-come the audacious proud Dardan,) was stayed in King Lisuarts Courte by the Ladies request, expressely to be the Queenes Knight: his enter­tainement by the King, fauour and manifolde other curtesies, you haue [Page] likewise heard. It now came so to passe, that as he was one day deuising among the Ladyes, a Damosell entred the Quéenes chamber, who falling on her knées before the Queene, said. Madame, is not a Knight héere that beareth azured Lyons in his armes? The Quéene perceiuing she meant Amadis, answered. Damosell, what would you with him? Madame, quoth she, I haue brought him tidings of a new Knight, who hath begun in déedes of Armes so rarely as euer did any. You speake very much, answered the Quéene: but you perhaps being acquainted with none but him, thinke therefore he is beyond all other. It may be so, replyed the Damosell, yet when you vnderstand what he hath accomplished, I thinke your selfe will agrée to my saying. I pray ye then, quoth the Quéene, tell vs what he is. When I see the good Knight, answered the Damosell, he who caryeth such estimation from all other: I will tell him in your presence, and other newes which I am char­ged to acquaint him withall. The Quéene was now more desirous to know him then before, wherefore shewing her Amadis, she said. Sée héere (Damosell) the man you aske for. Madame, quoth she, in respect you speake it, I beléeue it, for a Quéene of such state as you are, is frée from begui­ling: then comming to Amadis, she thus procéeded. My Lord, the young Gentleman whome not long since you Knighted before the Castell of Bradoid, when you vanqui­shed the two Knights on the bridge, and the other on the cawsey, where you tooke the Maister thereof prisoner, and deliuered by force of armes the freend to Vrganda: most humbly saluteth you by me, being the man whome he re­puteth as his Lord, and giueth you to knowe, how he en­deuoureth to reach the height of honor, which he will at­taine, or dye in the attempt: likewise when he shall per­fourme some-what worthie the name of Chiualrie, he will acquaint you with more then yet you knowe, vntill which time he shrowdes it in silence. Amadis soone remembred [...]he spake of his brother, wherefore with ioy the teares [Page 93] dewed his chéekes, and the Ladyes well noting this alte­ration, meruailed thereat, especially Oriana: who (as you haue heard heeretofore) was grounded in such affection toward him, as she was well néere depriued of power to dissemble it. In meane while, the Quéene desirous to heare what déedes of prowesse the new Knight had per­fourmed, said to the Damosell, I pray ye continue your message, and tell vs the braue beginning of chiualrie you spake of. Madame, quoth she, the first place where he made proofe of himselfe, was at the Rock of Galteres, where he combatted with the great and terrible Giant Albadan, whome (in open feeld hand to hand) he ouercame and slew: héereto she added the manner of the fight, assuring her that she had seene the same. Greatly were all the hea­rers abashed at these newes, but aboue all the rest the Quéene: who demaunded of the Damosell, if she knewe whether he trauailed from thence. Madame, quoth she, I parted from him soone after, leauing him in the company of a Damosell, who came from her Mistresse to séeke him, be­cause she was desirous to knowe him, at which time he went with her, and since I neuer sawe him. What thinke you héere-of Sir Amadis? said the Quéene, do not you know of whence he is? Yes truely Madame, answered Amadis, although I can say but little héerein: I thinke he be mine owne brother, for so Vrganda not long since assured me. Doubtlesse, quoth the Quéene, the fortune of you both is admirable, and I meruaile how you could come to the knowledge of your Parents, or they of you? yet would I be glad to sée that Knight in the Kings seruice. While these spéeches endured, Oriana who sate farre from the Quéene, and heard none of these newes, was in such griefe to sée Amadis shead teares, as being vnable to conceale the same, she said to Mabila. I pray ye (faire friend) call your Cozin Amadis,, that we may knowe what hath happened to cause him mourne. Mabila made a signe to Amadis to come, and when he was with them, Oriana shewing her [Page] selfe some-what grieued, thus began. Sir Amadis, it may full well be said, that by some Lady you are now mooued to pittie, I pray ye tell vs what she is, and from whence this Damosell brought you these tidings. Amadis quickly perceiued his Mistresses disease, wherefore he declared all that the Damosell tolde the Queene: which appeased the iealouzie of this hot louer, & made her shew more amiable countenance, thus speaking to Amadis. Alas my Lord, I must intreat ye to pardon the fault, raysed only by fond sus­pition against you. I promise ye Madame, quoth he, there is no cause of pardon, nor did my heart euer thinke amisse against you: but could you like thereof, that I should go séeke him the Damosell departed from, and bring him hi­ther with me to serue you? for this I am assured, if I bring him not, it will be very hard to get him hither. Beléeue me, answered Oriana, I could gladly with so good a Knight in this companie, and therefore I thinke you shall do well to go seeke him: yet before you depart, acquaint y^e Queene heerewith, that she may imagine, how by her commaunde­ment only, you enterprise this iourney. Humbly did Amadis regratiate his Mistresse, and according to her councell he went to the Queene, to whome he began in this man­ner. It were good in mine opinion. Madame, that the King had this Knight likewise to attend on his seruice. Certes, quoth she, I would it might be so if it were possible. If you will graunt me leaue, said Amadis, to goe find him, I haue no doubt of bringing him hither: otherwise I knowe you shall hardly see him, till he haue made himselfe knowne in many other places. You doo very much for the King, quoth she, if he doo come, neuerthelesse, I referre it to your owne discretion.

Thus Amadis obtained licence to depart, which he did very early the next morning, hauing no other company then Gandalin, and spending most part of the day riding through a Forrest, he sawe a Lady come toward him, ac­companyed with two Damosels and foure Squires: who [Page 94] weeping very greeuously, conducted a Knight in a Litter, whereat Amadis being abashed, demaunded what mooued them to be so sorrowfull, and what he was they had in the Litter. He is, quoth the Lady, the only cause of my care and pensiuenes, my Lord and husband, who is wounded in such sort as I feare his death. Amadis auaunced himselfe to behold the man, and lifting vp the couerture of the Litter, sawe a Knight lye there of goodly personage: but of his face he could make no iudgement, by reason it was cruelly cut and mangled, whereupon he called to him, saying. My fréend, who hath thus wronged thée? yet did the Knight make no aunswere, which made him goe to the Lady a­gaine and aske her the question. Gentle Sir, quoth she, a Knight that keepeth a bridge not farre hence, did it, who as we passed by said to my Lord, how he must sweare whe­ther he were of King Lisuarts Court or no: which made my husband demaund why he would know. Because, said the Knight, no freend of his shall passe héere, but I will kill him. What is the occasion of your hatred? replyed my husband. I wish so much ill, quoth the Knight, to that vn­gracious King, as I would gladly haue him in my power, to take vengeance on him at mine owne pleasure: and in despight of him, hence-foorth shall I sley all such as are be­longing to him, because he keepeth a Knight that killed the valiant Dardan, for whose sake I meane to deale in such sort, as the King and his wel-willers shall receiue by me in­finite displeasures & dishonors. When my Husband heard him, as one agréeued at his villainous spéeches, he answe­red. Know thou that I am one of his Court, and his vowed seruant, who neither for thée or any other will deny him. Highly displeased was the Knight of the bridge with this answere, and without any more words charged my hus­band, so that betwéene them grewe a cruell combate: but in the end, my Lord was brought into this hard extremi­tie, and farre more wursse in the Knights opinion, for he reputed him to be slaine out-right, commaunding vs with­in [Page] thrée dayes, to cary him before King Lisuart to despight him withall. Lady, quoth Amadis, I pray ye lend me one of your Squires, who can shew me the Knight when I come where he is: for séeing your husband hath been so wronged for my sake, it behooueth me more then any other to re­uenge the same. What? said the Lady, are you he for whose cause he so hateth the King? Yea verily, answered Amadis, and if my hap prooue so good, he shall neuer héere▪ after abuse any other. Ah gentle Knight, quoth she, I will pray for your prosperous successe. Afterward she gaue him one of her Squires, and committing him to God, rode on with her husband, and Amadis neuer stayed till he came to the bridge, where he sawe the Knight playing at the Tables with an other: but quickly leauing his pastime, being ready armed, he mounted on horsseback, calling to Amadis in this manner. Holla, holla Sirra, I forbid ye to passe any further till you haue sworne. What shall I sweare? answered Amadis. Whether thou be of King Lisuarts Court or no, said the Knight: for if thou belong to him, heere must thou leaue thy head behinde thee. It is a question, quoth Amadis, if thou canst doo so much: but I as­sure thee I belong to the Quéene his wife, euer since not long agoe. Since when? replyed the Knight. Since a dis­inherited Lady, said Amadis, came thither for her right. But thou art not he, quoth the Knight, that foughtest the Combat for her? I am the man, answered Amadis, who wun her her peace. By my head, said the Knight, now shalt thou loose thine if I can, for thou didst kill the only ho­nor of my linage. I killed him not, replied Amadis, but made him discharge her of his outragious demaund, and afterward he became a murderer of himselfe. All this can not profit thee, quoth the Knight, for by thée and no other he dyed: now for his sake shalt thou likewise loose thy life. Héereupon they gaue the spurres to their horsses, and brea­king their Launces brauely, met so furiously with their bodies, as the Knight of the bridge was throwne to the [Page 95] ground, whereof he was not a little ashamed: but by rea­son the helmet of Amadis was vnlaced in the running, while he amended it, the Knight had leysure to mount himselfe againe, and to giue his enemy two or thrée strokes with the sword, before he had time to drawe foorth his. All which afterward he very well requited, for striking full at his head, he brake away the skirts of his helmet, and re­doubling his blowe, met so directly with his neck, as his head hung downe behinde his shoulders, his soule passing to the Author of his pride & crueltie. When his gardants of the bridge sawe him thus slaine, they trusted to their héeles, yet Amadis would not follow thē, but returned to the Squire that cōducted him thither: willing him to make haste to his Lady, and let her vnderstand how he had reuen­ged her husbands iniurie: which he immediatly did, not sparing the worthy attaints at Sword & Launce, which he had séene Amadis bestowe on the Knight of the bridge.

Amadis hauing there no more to doo, issuing foorth of the Forrest, entred on a large and goodly plaine, brauely beautified with Uiolets, swéete hearbs, and all other deui­ses of natures tapistrie, which presently prouoked the re­membrance of his Oriana: riding on in diuers amorous thoughts, he sawe come toward him an euill fauoured Dwarffe on a simple Palfray, whome he called to knowe from whence he came. My Lord, quoth the Dwarffe, I come from the house of the Countie of Claire. Hast thou not seene a young Knight, said Amadis, named Galaor? No truely, answered the Dwarffe, but I know where (within thrée dayes) I can shew you the best Knight that euer bare Armes in these parts. When Amadis heard this, thinking he had meant his brother, he said. I pray thee my freend conduct me to the place where I may see him. With all my heart, replied the Dwarffe, on condition you will graunt me one request, and goe with me whether I shall guide ye. The great desire he had to finde his brother, made him soone consent. Come with me then, quoth the Dwarffe, [Page] and I will bring ye where you shall behold y^e good Knight. So rode they on till darke night ouertooke them, which the Dwarffe perceiuing, he said to Amadis, My Lord, hard by is a Castell where we may lodge this night, for there is a Lady who will freendly welcome vs. Thither they rode, and had kinde entertainement, when supper being ended, Amadis was brought to lodge in a sumptuous bed: but he could take no rest, his thoughts so hammered on the per­fections of his Mistresse. And taking leaue the next mor­ning of their freendly Hostesse, continued on their iourney till about mid-day, when they sawe two Knights fighting against one, then Amadis approching to thē, said. Gentle­men, may it please ye to pause awhile, and tell me on what occasion your quarrell ariseth? At these words they ceas­sed, and one of the two thus replied. It is because this Knight maintaineth, that he alone is as able as we two together, to bring a hautie enterprise to end. In sooth, said Amadis, your difference is very slender, for the bountie of the one diminisheth no iote of the other. The Knights perceiuing he spake the truth, ended their strife, demaun­ding of Amadis, if he knew the Knight in King Lisuarts Court, who combatted for the iniuried widdow, whereby the good Knight Dardan was slaine. Why aske ye? quoth Amadis. Because, said the Knights, we would gladly meet with him. I knowe not, answered Amadis, whether your meaning be good or bad, yet is it not long since I sawe him in the Court of King Lisuart. Hauing so said, he rode on his way, when the three Knights hauing conferred a little together, they began to gallop after him: and he no sooner heard them, but turned againe, then doubting they inten­ded some harme to him, he clasped on his Helmet and his Sheeld, yet had he no Launce, nor they likewise. Alas my Lord, quoth the Dwarffe, what will ye do? consider you not they be three, and you alone? What matters that? answered Amadis, if they assayle me without reason why, by good right I must assay for mine owne defence. On [Page 96] these spéeches, they came to him in this maner. Sir Knight, we would demaund one thing of you, which we desire yee not to deny, otherwise you may not so easily escape vs. The sooner shall I graunt it, quoth Amadis, if it be reasonable. Tell vs then as you are a loyall Gentleman, where you imagine we may find him that slew Dardan. He who could doo no lesse then speake the truth, thus replied. I am he, al­beit I would haue you thinke, that I doo not so soone fullfill your request, in respect of adding any praise to my selfe. When the Knights heard him, they cryed altogether: Ah traytour, thou dyest, and drawing their Swords, set vio­lently vpon him. Amadis offended to sée himselfe thus as­sailed, by them whom ere-while he had so freendly pacified: resisted them with such resolute courage, as at the first stroke he smote one of their armes frō the body, the griefe whereof made him likewise fall beside his horsse: the se­cond also felt his Sword so peazantly, that he cleft his head to the very téeth, and sent him to kéepe his fellow company. When the third beheld their bad successe, he put y^e spurres to his horsse and got him away, but Amadis being not so well mounted, let him escape, returning to Gandalin & the Dwarffe, who thus spake. Credit me my Lord, hencefoorth will I trust better to your words then I did, let vs now therefore make haste hence if you please. So riding along, at length the Dwarffe shewed him in a pleasant valley two high Pine trées, neere which was a Knight mounted on a lustie Courser, and two other whome not long before he had vanquished, they running to catch their horsses there strayed about the feeld. And looking againe, he espied an other Knight lay leaning on his helmet, hauing his Shéeld by him, and twentie Launces reared against the Pines, with two spare horsses likewise readie furnished. My Lord, quoth the Dwarffe, do you see the Gentleman that leaneth on his helmet? What then? said Amadis. He is, replied the Dwarffe, the good Knight I promised to shew you, Knowest thou his name? quoth Amadis. He na­meth [Page] himself, answered the Dwarffe, Angriote destrauaus, and is the best Knight that I haue heard report of. Tell me then, said Amadis, why he keepeth there so many Laun­ces? I can therein, answered the Dwarffe, full well re­solue ye, listen then awhile. He loueth a Lady of this coun­trey, who hateth him aboue all other: neuerthelesse, he hath preuailed so much by fight, as her Parents were constrai­ned to giue him her. After he had gotten her into his pow­er, he thought himselfe the happyest man in the world: but she told him, he should wade into no such fond opinion, be­cause he tooke a young Lady against her will. And albeit, quoth she, perforce you haue enioyed me, yet while I liue neuer shall I loue ye, if you do not perfourme one thing for me. What Lady? answered Angriote, it is within com­passe of my puissance? That is it, said she. Commaund then swéete Madame, replied Angriote, for I will accomplish it euen to the death. The Lady whose euill will was toward him exceeding great, thinking to appoint him a place most conuenient for his death, or else to get him there so many enemyes, as her Parents might enioy better assistance to take her from him: intreated him and his brother to guard this vale of Pines, against all Knights errant that should passe this way, causing them by force of armes to take an oath, how they should afterward trauaile to King Lisuarts Court, there to confesse her more beautiful then the Ladies they loued. And if it so fell out, that the brother to Angriote (whome you see on horsseback) were vanquished, and could endure the combate no further: then Angriote should keepe this passage alone, during the space of one whole yeere. For this cause they depart not hence all y^e day time, and at night returne to a Castell on the Mountaine you see at hand: hauing alreadie mainteined their enterprise thrée moneths, in all which time Angriote neuer set hand to sword against any Knight, because his brother hath still beene conquerour. Trust me, said Amadis, I beleeue thou sayest true, and so I heard in the Court of King Lisuart, [Page 97] where not long since a Knight arriued, who confessed Angriotes Lady to be more faire then his freend, and me thought he called her name Grouenesa. Uery true, quoth the Dwarffe: but now seeing you are resolued, remember your promise to me, and beare me company as you said you would. With right good will, answered Amadis, which is the way? Euen ouer this vale, replyed the Dwarffe, but because of this hinderance, as yet I thinke we shall verie hardly passe. Care not thou for that, said Amadis: so gi­uing his horsse the spurres, he rode on, and soone after he met a Squire, who thus spake to him. Goe no further Gentleman, if you will not graunt the Knights Lady vn­der the Pine, to be more beautifull then your Mistresse. Neuer will I yéeld to such a slaunder, replyed Amadis, without force or extreame constraint. Returne then, sayd the Squire, otherwise you must combate with thē twaine you see before. If they assaile me, quoth Amadis, I must de­fend my selfe so well as I can: so vsing no more words, he rode on forward.

WHen Angriotes brother saw him cō ­ming, he took vp his weapons and met him, saying. Beléeue me Knight you haue committed great folly, in not graunting what our Squire gaue you warning off, you must therfore enter combat with me. As for the combat, answered Amadis, I like it much better, then to con­fesse [Page] the greatest lye in the worlde. I know well, saide the Knight, you must doo it with disaduantage in an other place. And trust me, quoth Amadis, I think not so. Stand on your owne defence then, replied the Knight: wherwith they gaue the carrire against eche other, méeting together so furiouslye, as the Knight was vnhorssed: yet held he fast the reines of his bridle, till they brake in his hand, which caused him to fall on his neck to the ground, where he lay without remembraunce of him selfe or any other. Héer­upon Amadis alighted, and pulling the helmet from his head, perceiued that he was in a swoune, wherfore he buf­fetted him in such sort, as he came to him self again. Thou art but dead, said Amadis, if thou yéeld not thy self my pri­soner. When the Knight saw the naked Swoord ouer his head, fearing his death, he yeelded. Then Amadis mounted againe, perceiuing Angriote already on horsse-back, ready to reuenge his brothers iniurie: and a Squire came to the Prince, bringing him a Launce, which he presented him with-all from Angriote. Soone after they encountred so gallantly, as their Launces flewe in péeces without any further harme, and ending their carrire, Amadis quickly drewe his Swoord, turning to Angriote, who thus spake. Make not such haste (Knight) to combate with the swoord, because thou shalt haue time enough for that annon, (this he saide, in respect he reputed him self the best at the swoord that might be found:) But I pray thée, quoth he, let vs ioust till our Launces faile, or one of vs be sent to y^e earth. Knight, answered Amadis, I haue weightye busines else where, and may not trifle time with tarying héere. What? said Angriote, thinkest th [...] to escape me so lightly? I pro­mise thee it is the least parte of my thought: yet I pray thee let vs tyre one course more. Amadis was content, and taking such Launces as eche of them liked, finished the ioust with such violence, as Angriote was cast down and his horsse vpon him. Amadis leaping from his saddle, saw that a small trunchion of a Launce had a little entred his [Page 98] body, yet scorning any shame should be discerned on his side, fighting for the honor and beauty of his Goddesse Oriana: snatched foorth the trunchion, and marched with his swoord drawen against Agriote, who seing him come, said. I sée sir Knight thou art very yong, and me thinkes before it be woorsse with thee, thou wert better to confesse my Lady fairer then thine. Then should I lye very fowlly, an­swered Amadis, and (by my will) I shall not dissent so farre from the trueth. These speeches enkindled choller on either side, which made them charge eche other with such vigour, as not only they that behelde them, but euen thē ­selues were driuen into doubts, thinking it impossible to endure so extreamely. And to say sooth the cause was hard, for Amadis vndertooke the honor of his Lady, for which he could rather chuse a thousand deathes, then she should loose one iotte of her excellence: and this opinion still whetted on his courage, that Angriote was compelled to diuers simple shiftes, to auoide the fierce assaultes of his valiant enemye, who had wounded him in twenty seuerall places, and he perceiuing his death at hand, stepped aside thus speaking to Amadis. Beleeue me sir Knight, there is more valour in thee then I imagined. Yéeld thy selfe, said Ama­dis, so shalt thou doo wisely, seing thou art already brought into such danger, for with the finishing of our combate, thy life will likewise end: which can be no pleasure at all to me, in that I estéeme of thee better then thou weenest. These woordes he vsed, as well for the braue chiualrie he noted in Angriote, as also y^e great honestie he shewed to the Lady in his possession: wher-upon Angriote returned this answere. It is reason I should yeeld my selfe to the best Knight in the world, and the like all other to doo that beare Armes: beleeue me then gentle Knight, I not so much sor­row for my foyle, as the wreakfull chaunce threatned to me, by loosing this day the only thing in the world I most loue. That shall you not, quoth Amadis, if I can helpe it, beside, the Lady should shew her selfe very ingratefull, if [Page] she acknowledge not your honourable paines in her de­fence, and it cannot be, but she will requite ye with the good you haue deserued. As for me, I promise ye to imploye my vttermost habilitie, in causing her consent therto, so soon as I shall returne from a searche I haue now in hand. My Lord, saide Angriote, in what place may I héer-after finde you? In the Courte of King Lisuart, answered Amadis, where (by Gods helpe) I meane shortly to be. So tooke he leaue of Angriote, who gladly would haue had him to his Castell, but he might not be hindered of his iourney.

Thus dooth Amadis followe the Dwarffe, who guided him fiue dayes together without any aduenture, shewing him at length a meruailous strong and pleasant Castell, saying: Sir, within yonder holde you must perfourme the promise you made me. And I will doo it for thée, answered Amadis, if it consist in my power. I am in good hope therof, quoth the Dwarffe, in respect I haue séene some proofe of your Fortune: but know ye Sir how the place is named? No verily, saide Amadis, for till now I was neuer in this countrey. It is called Valderin, replied the Dwarffe: and thus deuising, they came néere the Castell, when the Dwarffe willed him to take his Armes. Why? said Ama­dis, shall we haue any such neede? Yea, mary, quoth the Dwarffe, for they suffer none to come foorth that enter so lightly. Amadis buckled on his helmet, riding in before, the Dwarffe and Gandalin following after, then looking on e­uery side they could see no creature. This place said Amadis is not inhabited, where is y^e request thou saidt I should doo for thee? Credit me Sir, saide the Dwarffe, I haue some­time séene héere a most braue Knight, and the strongest in chiualrie that euer I saw, who in that Porche killed two Knightes, one of them béeing my maister, him he put to death very cruellye, without regarde of fauour or mercy. In reuenge wherof, I would desire that traitours head, which I haue long fayled in obtaining, because all such as I brought hither, haue lost their liues or remaine héere in [Page 99] captiuitie. Thou doost the part of a loyall seruant, answe­red Amadis: yet oughtest thou to bring no Knight hither, before thou tell him against whome he shall fight. My Lord, quoth y^e Dwarffe, the man is knowen well enough, & reputed for one of the best Knights in the world: there­fore when I haue named him, I could not méete with any so hardy as to reuenge my cause. Belike then thou kno­west his name, said Amadis. Yea my Lord, replyed the Dwarffe, he calleth himselfe Arcalaus the enchaunter. A­madis héereupon went further in, looking round about if he might see any body: but all was in vaine, wherefore to rest his horsse, he stayed there till euening, saying to the Dwarffe. What wilt thou I shall do now it is so late? Alas my Lord, quoth he, the night being so néere at hand, me thinks it were good we departed hence. Nay trust me, answered Amadis, I will not boudge hence till the Knight come, or some other that can tell me tidings of him. But I dare not tarry, said the Dwarffe, least Arcalaus chaunce to knowe me, and imagine I practise the meanes of his death. Yet shalt thou beare me company, replied Amadis, as I will not excuse my selfe from the promise I haue made thee. As thus they communed, Amadis espied a court somewhat more backward, whereinto he entred and found no body: but he sawe a darke place vnderneath, and cer­taine steps leading into the earth. Gandalin got hold on the Dwarffe, who would haue run away, and Amadis tooke great pleasure to behold his trembling, speaking thus me­rily to him. Feare not tall fellow, but let vs goe downe these staires to sée who is beneath. My Lord, quoth the Dwarffe, for Gods sake spare me, nothing in the world can make me goe into such a fearefull place. If thou goe hence, said Amadis, how wilt thou enioy the thing I promi­sed thée, or know that I do my endeuour therein? Ah Sir, quoth he, I acquite you, and hold my selfe fully satisfied. But so do not I, answered Amadis, because heereafter thou shalt not say I brake my promise. On my faith Sir, [Page] said the Dwarffe, I freely discharge ye, and if you please to let me goe, I will tary for ye in the way as we came hi­ther. Get thee gone then, replyed Amadis, for heere will I abide till to morrow morning attending the Knight.

In this manner the poore Dwarffe escaped thence, and Amadis went downe the staires, comming into a plaine place so darke, that he could not imagine where he was: yet he procéeded on, and by groping on a wall felt a barre of iron, wherat hung a Key which he tooke, opening there­with a Chaine that locked a porte-cullis, then heard be a lamentable voice thus complaining. Ah God, how long shall we remaine in this miserie? swéet death why stayest thou from succouring vs, who call to thée as our last re­fuge? Soone after the voice ceassed, which made him holde on his way, and enter a vault hauing his swoord and shéeld ready: then passing further, he came into a great pallace, at the entraunce wherof hung a Lampe burning, and sire men laide a long a sleepe, with their shéeldes and hatchets lying by them, the best of which he tooke him selfe. They not awaking he went on by them, and soone after heard another gréeuous lamentation in this manner. Ah God full of pittie and mercy, send death if it please thée to deli­uer vs from this hell. Now was Amadis in woorsse case then before, for one of the sire Souldiours suddenly awa­king, saide to his fellowe: Arise, take these roddes & make that curssed creature sing another kinde of song, who hath thus disturbed vs in our sleepe. Mary and I shall, answe­red the other: so he arose and tooke the roddes, but as he went, he chaunced to sée Amadis before him, where at he was somewhat affraide, yet to be better assured, he de­maunded, who is there? I, quoth Amadis. What art thou? saide the other. I am, quoth he, a strange Knight. Who brought thee hether, said the souldier, without any licence? No bodie answered Amadis, but my self alone. The wursse for thee, replied the Souldiour, now must thou be enclosed among these infortunate people, who crye as thou hearest. [Page 100] Then stepping back, he shut the doore against Amadis, and waking his companions, saide. My freends, I haue found a strange Knight, who to his harme hath entred on his good will. Let me talk with him, answered the Iaylor and if I lodge him not woorsse then the rest, then blame me. So taking his hatchet and shéeld he came to Amadis with these woordes. Caitife, if thou wilt not dye, throwe downe thy weapons, least with my hatchet I slice thy flesh, and make carbonadoes of it. Uery angrye was Amadis, to be thus threatned, wherfore he returned this answere. Slender is thy reason in thinking to feare me with thy woordes, but the deuilles shall affright thée a great deale more: for I will make thē a present with thy soule, which so long hath giuen power to thy wicked body in dooing euill. Presently they smot at eche other with their hatchets, the Iaylor de­liuering his stroke on y^e helmet of Amadis, so that it entred very farre therin, and Amadis cutting through the Iaylors shéeld, enforced him to throw both it and his hatchet down to stand to the only defence of his Swoord: which endured not long likewise, wherfore he minded to grapple Amadis about the bodye, because he was a man of meruailous strength, yet could he not doo so much as he meant, in re­specte Amadis was a Knight both stiffe and sturdie. Ne­uerthelesse, the Iaylor griped him very cruellye, till the Prince gaue him such a blow on the face, as brake his iaw bones, which compelling him to fall downe amazed, Ama­dis had the meane to accomplishe his promise, seperating with his swoord the body from the soule.

The other Souldiours that beheld this fight, not thin­king the Iaylor was dead in deede, cryed to Amadis: how on perill of his life he should not kill him, least they likewise should send him after. I know not, answered Amadis, what may become of me, but I am certaine he is safe enough for dooing any more harme: heerewith he drew his sword, and taking vp his hatchet againe, marched toward them that came against him, who charged him very sharp and rough­ly: [Page] yet the first he encountred with, followed the Iaylor, so did the second, and the fourth being smitten on his knees to the ground, had dyed, but he appealed for mercy, the o­ther twaine bearing him companie in the same sute. Cast downe your weapons, said Amadis, and shew me them that complained so wofully: which they did, guiding him the way to the captiues, when Amadis hearing another voice somewhat neere him, demaunded what he was. My Lord, replyed the Souldiours, it is a Lady in extreame anguish. Open the dore, quoth Amadis, that I may sée her. Then one of them ran where the Iaylor lay dead, and ta­king two keyes from his girdle, opened the dungeon where the Lady was enclosed: but the imagining the Iaylor en­tred, cryed. Alas man, take pittie on me, and oppresse me with no more torments. Ah King, quoth she, breathing foorth a bitter sigh: hard was my lot to be loued of thée, sée­ing I buy my affection so deerely. Her grieuous mones moo­ued such compassion in Amadis, as the feares trickled downe his cheekes, returning her this answere. Lady, I am not the Iaylor that locked you héere, but the man who meanes to deliuer you hence if I can, a strange Knight, séeking my fortunes euery where. Alas my Lord, said she, what is become of the Iaylor and his companions? He and some of them, answered Amadis, are sent to Hell to looke their copes-mates: then one of the Souldiours hauing brought a light, the Prince saw how the Lady was tied by the neck with a great chaine, which had so worne and dis­poiled her garments, as the naked flesh appeared in many places, and when she beheld that Amadis pittied her, she thus spake. Although (my Lord) I am at this present se­questred from all my liuelood, yet time hath béene, when I was the wealthie daughter to a King, and for a King you finde me in this miserie. Lady, quoth Amadis, it behooueth you to embrace pacience, these are but the mutabilities of fortune, which no one is able to preuent or escape: and if the man for whome you haue thus suffered, be of any ac­count, [Page 101] or loueth you, I am sure he will conuert right soone this poore estate into rich aboundance, and remunerate your long sorrowes with ioy and gladnes. So he caused the chayne to be taken from her neck, commaunding gar­ments to be brought to put about her: wherefore he that brought the lights, ran for a scarlet mantle, which Arca­laus not long before gaue the Iaylor, and cast it about the Ladyes shoulders. This being done, Amadis tooke her by the hand, conducting her foorth of the darke prison, saying she should neuer returne thither againe, but he would loose his life before: and passing by where the Iaylor and the other lay slaine, the Lady began thus to complaine. Ah cruell hands, how many wounds and torments haue you giuen me, and diuers other in this Castell without desert? although your bodies at this instant cannot receiue con­digne vengeance, your damned soules may euermore a­bide in sufferance. Madame, said Amadis, while I goe to deliuer the rest of the prisoners, I leaue ye in my Squires custody: so passing on to the Port-cullis, he met the Soul­diour that brought the lights, saying. Sir, Arcalaus de­maundeth where the Knight is which entred héere, whe­ther he be dead or taken. He who caryed the torche before the Prince, was so affraid at these words, that he let it fall, which Amadis made him take vp againe, thus spea­king to him. Uillaine, fearest thou being in my guard? goe on. Then ascending the staires, they came into the open court, where they sawe the greater part of the night was spent, the Moone shining cléere, and the weather faire: but the Lady féeling the aire, and beholding the heauens, was so repleat with ioy, that she fell on her knées before Ama­dis, saying. Ah gentle Knight, the Almightie protect thée, and requite the good I haue receiued by thée, deliuering me from comfortlesse darknesse. Amadis looking round about for Gandalin, and finding him not, feared he had lost him, wherefore he said: If the best Squire in the world be dead, I shall take such reuenge for his death may I but méet his [Page] murderer, as neuer was the like heard before. Being thus ouercome with griefe, he heard one crye, wherefore he ran which way he thought best, and found the Dwarffe (that parted from him the night before) hanging by one leg on high at a great péece of wood, hauing a fire vnderneath him full of filthie stincking sauours: and néere him he espyed Gandalin tyed to a tree, toward whome he was going to vnbind him, but he saw the Dwarffe had greatest néede of helpe, wherefore he cut the cords in twaine that held him vp, catching him in his armes to set him on his féete, after­ward he vnloosed Gandalin, saying. In sooth my friend, who­soeuer intreated thée thus, made little reckoning of thy good deserts. Now because he would deliuer the other pri­soners, he met the Lady comming foorth of the Castell, as he returned back againe, but going on, he found the gates fast shut against him: whereupon he stayed till day light in a corner of the Court, sitting downe by the Lady, ac­companyed with two of the Souldiours, the Dwarffe and Gandalin. And as they communed together, Gandalin shew­ed the Prince a place wher-into he saw a horsse led, which Amadis being desirous to sée, came to the dore and found it shut: but he ran so strongly against it with his foote, that he made it flye open, finding the horsse there readie sadled and bridled, whereon he mounted, attending the day and sight of Arcalaus, who he knew was already arriued at the Castell, by matters he heard of Gandalin and the Dwarfe. In meane while he conferred with the Lady, demaunding what the King was she loued so déerely, and for whom she had sustained such iniurie. Worthy Lord, quoth she, Ar­calaus getting intelligence, of the Princes affection toward me whome I loue so loyally, this deuillish enchaunter be­ing his mortall enemy: thought he could be no better re­uenged on him, then by depriuing me of his presence, ima­gining the griefe heereof would be greater to him then a­ny other. Being thus perswaded, he stole me away, at what time I was with many great personages, who were [Page 102] not able to giue me any succour, by reason of the traitours villainous sorceries: for they could not deuise what was become of me, because a wonderfull darke clowd enuiro­ned me, which hindered them from following me to this place, since when, I neuer saw light till now you brought me foorth. The disloyall wretch said by the way as he brought me, that he would be reuenged on my loue and my selfe by these meanes: I poore soule enduring the tor­ments, and my Loue the griefe of my absence, yet igno­rant where. Madame, said Amadis, I pray ye name the man you speake of. It is King Arban of Norgalles, answe­red the Lady, whome it may be you know. I knowe him right well, replied Amadis, for he is one whome I deerely loue, and now doo I lesse pitty your sufferings then before: because they haue bin for one of the best men in the world, who will so well recompence them, as by rendring you in­comparable ioy, your loue and honor shall both be satisfied.

While thus they communed together, faire day appée­red, when Amadis saw a Knight leaning in a windowe, who thus demaunded. Art thou he that didst kill my Iay­lor and my seruants? Art thou he? answered Amadis, that so trecherously putteth Knights to death, abusing likewise both Ladies and Gentlewomen? by heauen thou art one of the vilest villaines that euer I heard off. As yet thou knowest not, said Arcalaus, the vttermost of my power, but soone shalt thou haue experience thereof, to rid thee of such boldenes in asking me what I can doo, whether it be wrong or right. Heer-with he went from y^e window, and not long after came downe into the courte, beeing well armed, and mounted on a lusty bay courser. Now you must note that this Arcalaus, was one of the mightyest Knightes in the world, yet no Giant, wherfore when Amadis behelde him of such stature, he doubted not of his great force & strength. Arcalaus perceiuing he eyed him so much, demaunded what mooued him so to doo? I imagine, answered Amadis, that ac­cording to thy large proportion, thou shouldst be a man of [Page] exquisite chiualrie: but thy peruerse and inhumaine acti­ons are a foule blemish thereto. Now trust me, said Arcala­us, I thinke my self highly beholding to Fortune, who hath brought thée hether to make me such a smoothe sermon: but all this will not helpe thee, therfore defend thy self. So charging their Launces, they brake so brauely on their sheeldes, as the shiuers flew vp into the aire, and with such violence met their horsses and bodies, that they were both laide along on the ground. Quickly they arose, and with their swoordes began a bloodie combate, wherin desire of victorie, and hautie resolution of vnconquerable courage, made them continue a long time, till Arcalaus retyring a­side, thus spake to Amadis. Knight, thou art in danger of death, and because I know not who thou art, tell me, that when I haue slaine thée, I may yet commend thy boldenes in entring héere. My death, answered Amadis, is in y^e hand of God whom I reuerence, and thine in the power of the Deuill, who is weary of helping thée: and bequeatheth thy body to so innumerable mischéefs, as a present perishing of soule and all together. But seeing thou wouldst so gladlye know my name, I am commonly called Amadis of Gaule, Knight to the Quéene Brisana: let vs now then chat no longer but fall to the combate, for on my parte I promise no more resting. Arcalaus auauncing his shéeld, came with foming fury against Amadis. who knew full wel how to welcome him: and such eager stroks past on either side, as their shéeldes were scattered in péeces about them, and likewise very many plates of their armour. Now was it about the thirde hower, when Arcalaus hauing sustained great losse of his blood, was forced to seud vp and down be­fore his enemye, and séeing the imminent death before his eyes, fled to that parte of the Castell where he came out: yet Amadis by close pursuite stil continued his feare, wher­upon he stept into a chamber, at the door wherof stood a La­dy be holding the combate, and he was no sooner entred the roome, but he caught vp another swoord, turning his face [Page 103] to Amadis, saying. Enter this chamber to make an end of our combate. The open Court, answered Amadis, is more spacious and conuenient. I will not come foorth, quoth Ar­calaus, for thy pleasure. What? said Amadis, thinkest thou so silly to escape? so placing his sheeld before, he entred the chāber: but as he lifted vp his swoord to strike, he was de­priued of strength and the vse of his members, so that he fell to the ground as he had been dead. Yea mary, said Ar­calaus, this is the way to make thée dye as I desired, sléepe then till I wake thee. Now say you Lady? quoth he to her that stood by, am I not (in your opinion) well reuenged on him? Indéed, saide she, he is now altogether at your com­maundement. Presently he vnarmed him, Amadis not fée­ling any thing was doone to him: afterward Arcalaus put on him selfe the Princes Armour, thus speaking to the La­dy. Madame, looke (on perrill of your life) that no one re­moue him hence, vntill his soule haue forsaken his bodye: then he intended to iourney to the court, where ech one see­ing him in the Armour of Amadis, might thinke he had slayne him.

But now the sorrowfull Lady so lately deliuered from prison, made such mone as would haue melted a hart of Adamant, and what Gandalins countenaunce was, you may easily iudge: when Arcalaus saw the Lady lament, he said. Dame, séeke some other to deliuer you from prison, for I haue dispatched your hardie champion. These woords made Gandalin in such dispaire, as he fell downe like one sencelesse, and Arcalaus called the Lady to him in this manner. Come hither mistresse, and you shall see him dead that durst so boldly combate with me. When he had shew­ed him to her, he demaunded if he were not now quiet e­nough. The comfortlesse Lady séeing him in such estate, wanted no teares to expresse the aboundance of her greefe, and withall: Ah God, quoth she, how irkesome will the re­porte of his death be to many? then Arcalaus calling his wife, saide. So soone as this wretch is dead, imprison this [Page] Lady where she was before, for I will goe to the Court of Ling Lisuart, and there declare how I combated with A­madis, by couenaunt, that the conquerour should cut off the head of the vanquished, and within fiftéen dayes following, to publishe his victorie openly in great Brittaine. By these meanes none shall quarrell with me about his death, and I shall obtaine the greatest glory in the worlde, hauing o­uer-come him that conquered euery one. Then went he where he left Gandalin and the Dwarffe, commaunding them to be locked vp in a prison: but Gandalin who wished death, thinking his maister was dead indéed, would not goe with him, desiring some one to kill him: and to enforce Arcalaus doo him so much fauour, reuiled him with names of traytour and villaine, hauing slaine the most loyall Knight in the worlde, Arcalaus made no account of his woordes, but because he would not goe willingly, he dreg­ged him by the eares, and thrust him into the dungion, say­ing. If I presently kill thee, thou shouldst endure no more paine, but heere shalt thou suffer wursse then death. So mounted Arcalaus on the horsse of Amadis, and accom­panied with thrée Squires, rode toward the Courte of King Lisuart.

GRindaloya the Lady deliuered by A­madis from prison, made such exces­siue lamentations for him, as euery one pittied her, she thus speaking to the Wife of Arcalaus, and the rest in the company. Ah faire Ladyes, behold yee not the beautie of this braue Gentleman, who in so young yeeres was the only Knight in the world? mishap attend on such, who by enchauntment in­iurie men of vertue: D soueraigne creator, why doost thou suffer so bad-minded people to liue? The Wife of Arca­laus, who though her husband was addicted to shamelesse crueltie, yet she being of gracious and pittifull disposition, grieued in her very soule to behold his dealings, and con­tinually prayed for his amendment, comforting the wofull Lady so well as she could. As thus they were deuising to­gether, they sawe two other Ladyes enter the chamber, eche of thē bringing in her hād good store of candles lighted, which they set round about on the cantons of the chamber: finding Amadis thus lying before the Wife of Arcalaus and the rest, they being not able to lift or stir him. Then one of the Ladyes so lately there arriued, tooke (out of a little Casket she caryed) a Booke, whereon she began to reade, and diuers times an other voice answered her. As thus she continued her lecture, many other voices were heard, as they imagined them more then an hundred: then came an other Booke flying into the chamber, séeming as if the [Page] winde caryed it, and fell downe at her féet that read, she pulling it in foure parts, burned it at the foure corners of the chamber where the candles stood. This done, she retur­ned to Amadis, and taking him by the right hand, sayd. Lord Amadis arise, you haue slept too long vneasily. Imme­diatly Amadis awaked, and rising vp, thus spake. Alas where am I? I meruayle that I am aliue. Beléeue me Sir, answered the Lady, such a one as you are must not dye in this sort, rather will the heauens permit, that they who haue deserued it shall dye by your hand. Héere-with the two strange Ladyes, not saying any more, returned the same way they came, leauing Amadis much amazed at this aduenture, and looking about for Arcalaus: but he was aduertised by Grindaloya, how he was gon to the Court of King Lisuart, clad in his Armour, and mounted on his horsse, to report that he had slaine him in combat. In déede I felt, quoth Amadis, when he vnarmed me, but on my faith me thought I dreamed: and seeing he is gone with my Armour, I will make his to serue me at this time. Ha­uing put on the Armour of Arcalaus, he demaunded of Grindaloya, what was become of Gandalin & the Dwarffe: she told him they were imprisoned. Euill befall the villaine that so hardly vsed them, said Amadis: and Lady, quoth he to Arcalaus Wife, vpon your life looke to the safetie of this noble woman till I returne. Comming foorth into the court, it was a pastime to sée how Arcalaus seruants fled his sight: but Amadis let them run, and went to the darke vncomfortable prisons which were filled with captiues.

Now to tell ye in what distressed manner they were, you must note, the place was a vault of an hundred toyses long, yet no more then one foote and a halfe in breadth, without aire or light, and (which was wurst of all) so full of prisoners, as they could scantly stand one by an other. Amadis called Gandalin, who being in a manner dead, hea­ring his maisters voice, begā to trēble: yet thinking it was not he, because he verily imagined him to be dead, entred [Page 105] into diuers doubts of himselfe, whether he dreamed, or was enchaunted. All this while Amadis greatly greeued, because Gandalin made no answere, wherefore he called a­loud againe: Gandalin where art thou? why doost thou make me trauell so much? speake I pray thee. When he sawe (for all this) Gandalin answered not, he asked the o­ther prisoners, if a Squire so lately brought in there, was dead or aliue: but the Dwarffe remembring the voyce of Amadis, cryed out: Alas my Lord, we are both héere toge­ther aliue as yet, albeit we haue often enough wished for death. Then Amadis caused candles to be lighted at the Lampe, which hung at the entrance of the dungion, com­maunding them all to come foorth, to their no little ioy and comfort, séeing themselues deliuered from such mise­rable seruitude: and when they came into the open court, they fell on their knées before the Prince, thanking God and him for this happy benefit. Amadis beholding their fa­ces so pale, wan, and ouer-spent, séeming rather blood-lesse ghostes, then liuing creatures, was mooued to excéeding compassion, especially they being an hundred and fiftie prisoners in all, & thirty of them were Knights at Armes: as he cast his eye euery where among them, he made more account of one then all the rest, who notwithstanding his sicknes and debilitie, séemed of braue and comely constitu­tion, and he perceiuing that Amadis noted him so much, stepped to him in this manner. Who shall we say (my Lord) hath done vs this grace, by deliuering vs from so long wretched thraldome? Such as know me, answered the Prince, doo call me Amadis of Gaule, Sonne to King Perion, Knight to the Quéene Brisana, and domesticall ser­uant to King Lisuart her husband: in search of a Knight I was brought hither by this Dwarffe, to whome I made promise in a sute he had. In sooth my Lord, replyed the other, I am a Knight likewise, and seruant to the same King, who knoweth me full well, as likewise the most in his Court doo, with whome I haue baene seene in greater [Page] honor then now I am: because euer since my departure from the Court, I haue liued in the miserie from which you redéemed me. How may I call your name? said Ama­dis. Brandoyuas, answered the Knight. Full well did the Prince remember, that he had heard report of him in the Court, wherefore courteously embracing him, he said, Right glad am I my Starres so fauoured me, to deliuer you and these other from such a hellish place: and though I neuer sawe you till this present, yet oft have I heard the King and his Barons talke of your chiualrie, your long absence being no little griefe to them. The rest of the priso­ners confessed their bounden dutie to him, desiring him to appoint them what they should doo: he willing them to shape their course whether they thought best. My Lord, quoth they, albeit we know not what seuerall Countreys may harbour vs, yet will we still continue your deuoted seruants, to attend on you when and where-soeuer néede shall require. So each one kissing his hand, they tooke their leaue, limitting their iourneys as they thought good, not any of them tarying with Amadis, but Brandoyuas.

Now goe they to the wife of Arcalaus, Amadis thus spe­king to her. Lady, for your sake and these other Gentle­women, I for-beare from setting this Castel on fier, albeit the euill behauiour of your husband is sufficient warrant therfore: but in regarde of the curtesie Knightes owe to Ladies, I am content to remit all at this time. Alas my Lord, quoth she, heauen beareth record of the gréefe my soule hath endured, through the behauiour of Arcalaus my husband: yet could I doo nothing but shewe obedience, as beséemed a wife to her wedded Lord, with intercession for his change, notwithstanding, I remaine at your dispositi­on. What I will doo, answered Amadis, I haue already tolde ye, it now remaineth, that at my request you giue this Lady Grindaloya honorable attirements, because her birth and behauiour deserueth no lesse: in like manner, I woold haue an Armour for this Knight, to requite his own [Page 106] which was taken from him, and a horsse as beséemeth one of his profession. If you mislike of my demaund, doo more or lesse as you thinke good, but for mine owne parte, I will haue hence the Armour of Arcalaus in liew of mine, and his horsse, by reason mine owne was better: yet must I tell ye withall, that he hath taken a swoord from me more woorth then all the rest. Sir, answered the Lady, your request is so reasonable, that beyond the power you alone haue heer, I stand bound in duetye to fulfill your commaundement. Then sent she for the self-same Armour belonged to Bran­doyuas, and caused a horsse to be deliuerd him: as for the Lady, she brought her into her chamber, where she clothed her in most sumptuous accoustrements, and returning to Amadis, desired him to eate somewhat before he departed, wherto he willingly condiscended. Now was the best vi­andes brought foorth so short warning might affoord, but Grindaloya was in such haste to be gon, as she was lothe to be troubled with any: whereat Amadis and Brandoyuas merily smiled, especially at the Dwarff, who looked so pale and wan with feare, that it was impossible for him to offer one woord, which made Amadis, thus to iest with him. Tell me Dwarffe, wilt thou that we tarry héere till Arcalaus come, and I to give thée the sute thou desirest? Insooth my Lord, quoth the Dwarffe, so déere hath the request cost me I made to you, as (while I liue) neither of you or any o­ther will I craue the like: for Gods sake then let vs be gon ere the deuill come againe, for I cannot stand on the leg he hung me by, beside, my nose is so full of sulphurous & stin­king smelles, as neuer shall I giue ouer sneezing till I dye. The Dwarffes woordes made them all laugh hartely, and after they had repasted, Amadis bidding Arcalaus wife far­well, mounted on horsse-back with his company, the Lady thus speaking at his departure. I shall pray Sir Knight, that God may send peace betwéene my husband and you. Beléeue me Lady, quoth he, though I neuer care for it with him, yet shall it remaine twixt you and me, because [Page] you deserue it. So fortuned it afterward these woords took effect, and highly profited the good Lady, as in some part of this history you shall heare recited.

Now are they departed from the Castell of Arcalaus, riding till the night ouer-tooke them, lodging at a Ladies place fiue leagues thence, where they were entertayned with very gracious welcome: and on the morrow, after they had thanked their fréendly host, as they rode together, Amadis thus communed with Brandoyuas. Curteous Sir, I trauaile in search of a Knight, as heer-to-fore I told ye, and imagining it will be little pleasure to you to fol­low me, it were not amisse then if we parted. In sooth Sir, answered Brandoyuas, I gladly would goe to King Lisuarts Courte, notwithstanding, if you thinke it good I will kéepe ye companye. Little néede shall I haue thereof, answered Amadis, I thank ye, because I must be constrained to wan­der alone, so soone as I haue brought this Ladye into such safetie as she thinkes meete. My Lord, quoth she, I will accompany this Gentleman if you please, seeing he trauai­leth to the Courte of King Lisuart: and there I hope to finde him for whome I was prisoner, who I am assured will be glad of my deliueraunce. Now trust me, answered Amadis, very well saide, goe then together and God be your guide. Thus are they seperated, now remaining none with Amadis but Ganda [...] and the Dwarffe, of whom the Prince likewise demaunded what he meant to doo. Mary be your trusty seruant, said the Dwarffe, if you like so well as I. I am well pleased, replyed Amadis, and thou shalt doo what thou wilt thy selfe. In sooth my Lord, quoth the Dwarffe, séeing you released me, I would gladly remaine in your seruice, for I know not where I may bée halfe so well: the man and the maister being bothe agreede: they took their way as fortune liked to conduct them.

Not farre had they trauailed, but they met one of the Ladies, that reskewed him from enchauntment at Arcala­us Castell, she wéeping and mourning very greeuously: [Page 107] which moouing Amadis to pittie her complaints, made him demaund the cause thereof. A Knight who rideth not farre before, quoth she, hath taken from me a little Casket, wherein is matter of great consequence, yet no way able to pleasure him: for such things are therein, as with­in these three dayes one in my companie and my selfe, re­stored frō death the best Knight in the world, and she like­wise of whome I tell ye, is violently caryed away by an other Knight, who is ridden before intending to force her. Héere you must obserue, that the Damosell now talking with Amadis, knew him not, by reason his helmet beuer couered his face: but when he heard how her Casket was taken from her, he neuer left gallopping till he ouer-tooke him, to whome he thus spake. Knight, you deale not cour­teously, giuing this Lady cause thus to complaine of you, and me thinks you should doo a great deale better, to deli­uer the Casket againe you tooke from her: but when the Knight heard him, he fell in a great laughter. Why doo ye thus laugh Sir? said Amadis. I laugh at you, answered the Knight, whome I thinke scant wise in giuing councell to him that demaunds it not, the lesse hope may you haue of spéeding in your sute. It may be, quoth Amadis, you care not for my words, yet it were good to deliuer the thing is none of yours. Belike you threaten me then? sayd the Knight. Not you Sir, answered Amadis, but your ouer­much boldnes, in vsing force where it ought not to be. Is it true? quoth the Knight: with these words he set the Cas­ket aside in a trée, and returning to Amadis, said. If your brauerie be such in déedes as it séemeth in words, come teach me knowe it and receiue the lawe. So giuing the spurres to their horsses, they encountred together in such sort, as the Knight being dismounted, his horsse fell so hea­uily on him, that he was not able to rise againe: in meane while Amadis fetched the Cofer, and deliuering it to the Damosell, said. Take your owne faire Lady, & tary héere till I bring your companion. Presently he posted after the [Page] other Knight, ouer-taking him at a thicket of trées, where he had tyed both his horsse and the Ladyes, trayling her by the haire of the head into the wood, there to commit his vil­lainous desire, but Amadis cried to him aloud in this man­ner. Of an euill death mayst thou dye traitour, that wron­gest a Lady in this sort without offending thee. As the Knight strougled with her to get her into the wood, he loo­ked vp and sawe Amadis, whereupon he left her, making spéed to his weapons and mounted on horsseback, then ap­proching néerer the Prince, he said. By my hand Knight, in haplesse time for thée didst thou hinder me of my will. Such a will, answered Amadis, as distaineth honor, both men and beasts despise. If I take not reuenge for it, quoth the Knight, then let me neuer weare Armour againe. The world therein shall sustaine a great losse, replyed Amadis, of one addicted to such villainy, that séekes to force Ladies, who ought in all libertie and honor to be defended, and so they be by all loyall Knights. With a braue course they met together, when though the Knight brake his Launce, yet was he hurled against the ground so violently, as the weight of his Armour and strength of his fall, made him lye trembling in a traunce. Which Amadis perceiuing, to rid him out of his paine altogether, he trampled on his belly with his horsse féete, saying: Thus shalt thou loose thy desire of forcing Ladyes. And as for you faire soule, I hope héereafter you are rid from any daunger of him. The more am I to thanke you my Lord, quoth she, would God my companyon who hath lost her Casket, were as well de­liuered as I am. She was the first, I met withall, answe­red Amadis, wherefore first of all I succoured her so well, as she hath recouered what was taken from her, and be­hold where my Squire conducteth her hither-ward.

Now because the heate was some-what violent, Ama­dis put off his helmet to take the aire, when the Damosell immediatly knew him: for it was she that at his returne from Gaule▪ conducted him to Vrganda the vnknowne, whē [Page 108] by chiualrie he deliuered her fréend at the Castell of Pra­doid, which made her remember him, & so did Amadis her, when alighting they embraced eche other, the like curtesie he shewed to the other Damosell. Alas quoth they, had we but dremed on such a defender, no villain could haue wron­ged vs, halfe so much. On my faith, saide Amadis, the help you gaue me within these three dayes, may not be compa­red with this matter of no validitie: for I was in greter ex­extremity then you, but how could you possibly vnderstand therof? My Lord, (quoth she that tooke him by the hand when he was enchaunted) mine Aunte Vrganda sent me to the Castell of Arcalaus, by whose meanes we came thi­ther, and you were recouered. Heauen sheelde from euill that good Lady, answered Amadis, who hath so many wayes bound me her obedient seruant: and you faire Da­moselles the messengers of this fauour, haue you any thing els wherin to commaund me? No my Lord, said they, take you the way you left, and we will return from whence we came. Farwell swéet Uirgins, replyed Amadis, remember my humble dutie to the health of your Mistresse, telling her, she knowes right well I am her Knight. In this man­der rode the Damoselles one way, and Amadis another: wherfore we must now tell what happened to Arcalaus, since his departure from the Castell of Valderin.

SUch spéede made Arcalaus after his departure from Valderin, where he left Amadis enchaunted, he béeing (as I haue saide) clad in his armour, and mounted on his horsse: that the tenth day following, he arriued néer the Court of King Lisuart, who was riding abroad in the feeldes to take the aire, accōpanied with his Lords along the Forrest side. They séeing Arcalaus come a farre of, hauing on the Armour of Amadis, imagining it was he indeed, diuers rode before to welcome him: but when they came more neere, they found them-selues deceiued, by rea­son Arcalaus had his head and handes vnarmed, wherfore without saluting the Gentlemen, he stepped to the King with these woordes: Sir, I come to accquite a promise wherein I stand bound, namely to let you vnderstand, how I haue slaine a Knight in battell, that some time bare these Armes. And albeit I must be content to declare mine owne praise, which were more honourable for me, béeing reported by an other in mine absence: yet am I constrai­ned to doo no lesse, séeing the couenant was such betweene me and him whom I haue slaine: viz. that the conquerour should despoyle the vanquished of his head, and present it before you as this day. Full lothe was I to be so cruell, be­cause he tolde me he was your Queenes Knight, common­ly called Amadis of Gaule, and so he named him self whom I vanquished. As for me Sir, I tolde him in trueth that I [Page 109] was Arcalaus, whome Fortune hath graced with such sin­guler fauour: for I haue slaine the man, some-time owner of this Armour and horsse, which as a testimony of my vic­torie I brought with me. Ah God, saide the King, is then the most vertuous and accomplished Knight of the worlde dead? you lowring heauens, why began ye so braue a course in him, and now on such a sudden to cut it off? These sor­rowfull newes prouoked sighes and teares, bothe in the King and his royall company, which Arcalaus perceiuing, not speaking any thing else, returned the same way he came, feigning him selfe likewise very sad and greeued: but you must think he went not without great store of cursses, euery one instantly desiring God, to send him an euill and spéedy death, which with their Swoordes they could gladly haue bestowed on him them-selues, but that they heard how Amadis was slaine by an accorded battell.

The King being ouercome with pensiuenes and sorrow, returned to the Towne, where these newes were so ope­ned to euery one, that at length the Quéene and her La­dyes heard thereof, which presently conuerted their former pleasures into mourning. At this time was the Princesse Oriana in her chamber with the Damosell of Denmarke, where hearing the sudden clamour and noise, she comman­ded her to goe vnderstand the cause thereof. Alas good La­die, too soone was it brought to her, for no sooner was she acquainted with the death of Amadis, but her immoderate passions expressed the anguish of her heart: and more to afflict this gentle Princesse, the other Ladyes came wée­ping into her chamber, saying. Ah Madame, what tongue can deliuer this wonderfull mishap? yet durst she not (good Lady) be too forward in enquiring the manner thereof, least the cinders of her affection might be discouered: and as if she had beheld Amadis dead before her, she said. Alas he is dead, it can not be otherwise. It is true Madame, an­swered the Damosell, but what remedie? you must not likewise dye for company. These words made Oriana fall [Page] into a swoune, which the Damosell of Denmarke behol­ding, thought she had too indiscreetly brought her these bad tidings, whereupon she called the Princesse Mabila, say­ing: Help Madame, my Mistresse dyeth. She being come, sawe that she neither mooued or breathed, doubted least life had taken leaue indéede, wherefore she commaunded the Damosell to shut the door, to the end her loue all this while so well concealed, might not break foorth into open suspiti­on. Then vnlacing her garments to giue her more liberty, as also bathing her temples and pulses with Uiniger and colde water, she recouered again, when deliuering a fainte sigh, with a feeble voice she thus spake. Ah swéet freendes, hinder me not in the way of death, if you desire my rest, and would haue God finde him another world, who knew not how to liue one day without me. Ah flower and mirrour of chiualrie, thy death is insupportable not to me alone, but to the whole worlde, who is replete with greefe for thee, because they haue lost him who in bounty, prudence, hardines, and all other vertues, did honor them aboue the compasse of all desire. And were yet any feeling in thee, I am certaine thou wouldst not sorrow for thy lost life, but for my loue, enduring by thy misse meruaylous afflictions: for thou hast left such honor in the worlde behinde thee, conquering so incomparable reputation in this short time of thy life, that (reconing thy merites) thou diedst possessed with many yeeres. Thus liuest thou in place immortall, I remaining héere alone after thée, can giue but wounding and vnthankfull spéeches. Ah cruell death, suffised it not that mighty loue murdered him with his feathered stéele, but thou must kill him out-right with thy curelesse stroke? well, in respect it is so, offend not thy selfe my loue, for thou shalt soone sée reason proceed from her that did thée wrong, who being the cause, will beare thee company in death. And I may iustly challenge him of wrong, seeing equal loue had vnited our willes, to seperate our persons in this sorte: where hauing affoorded our ending together, we likewise [Page 110] might haue enioyed one sepulchre. After these woordes she swouned againe in Mabilaes armes, and in such manner al­tered her countenaunce, as they reputed her verily dead, her faire and golden lockes béeing discheueled, her armes and legges depriued of vitall motion, euen as when the soule hath taken his flight, from the bodye. Mabila dispai­ring of any life left in her, was so surprised with gréef, that she was constrained to leaue the Damosell alone with the Princesse, and walking some-what aside by her selfe thus lamented. Incomprehensible wisdome, let me not liue to endure these trauailes, seeing thou hast taken these two frō me whom I loued as my life. But when the Damosell of Denmarke saw her selfe thus alone betweene two extrea­mes, she was meruailouslye abashed: yet as one wise and well gouerned, she spake in this manner to the Princesse Mabila. Why Madame? when were you wunt to abuse your honourable vertues? is it now time to forget your selfe? will you thus consent to the death of my Lady? you rather ought to aide and comfort her, then thus to forsake her, and procure her further daunger if she reuiue againe. Come I pray ye succour her, for now is the time of grea­test need, and let these lamentations be referred till an o­ther time. Mabila perceiued the Damosell said true, wher­fore she came to Oriana, and feeling by her warmenes some hope of life to be expected, they lifted her vpon the bed, whē soone after her sprites returned to their office: and to qual­lifie this agonie, they could deuise no better meanes, then to busie her eares with some or other spéeches. Why Ma­dame? quoth one, will ye leaue vs? at least yet speak to vs. Madame, said the other, your Amadis is yet aliue and wel. At the name of Amadis, she opened her eyes, turning her head héere and there as if she looked for him: which good hu­mour Mabila desirous to continue, proceeded thus. Ama­dis commeth Madame, and shortly you shall see him. Ori­ana giuing a great sighe, started vp, saying. Alas sweete freend, where is he? We vnderstand, quoth she, that he is [Page] in very good health, and how the Knight who brought these bad tidings, is wunt to vaunt of him selfe without cause, feeding him selfe with false praise of deceiuing Knightes. Why? said Oriana, haue I not heard that he brought his horsse and Armour? A matter of nothing, answered Mabi­la, they may as well be borrowed or stolne, or he (happi­ly) sent with that false allarme, to trye our constancie: then finding vs thus weakly disposed, he should haue had the thing he desired. I would not haue you think so simply Madame, that Amadis could be ouercome by one & no bet­ter a Knight then he, nor were it reason to credit a com­mender of him selfe, bringing his owne glory for testimony and no other approbation: I am assured that Amadis will come ere long, and if he find you not only dead in a manner, but thus giuen ouer to greefe: it will cost his life, so shall you deliuer vnhappy proofe, what wicked feigning by mal­lice can doo, and thus you bothe shall dye one for another. Whē Oriana remembred, how by this meane she might be the death of her freende, if by good hap he yet enioyed life, and imagined likewise that Mabila spake the trueth: she tooke courage, casting her eye on the windowe, where ma­ny times Amadis and she had amourously conferred, when first he arriued at her Fathers Courte, and intercepting a number of forced sighes, thus spake. Ah windowe the witnes of my abandoned pleasures, how piercing is the doubt of him whome thou causest me remember, and by whose gracious woordes both thou and I were made happie? of this I am certaine, that neuer canst thou endure so long as two so loyall louers might (by thee) enioy such delight as he and I haue doone: which fayling me now, gi­ueth me strange and insupportable tormentes to be my companions, and hence-foorth shall my sad spirit remayne in bitter sadnes, vntill the comming of him or my death. Mabila perceiuing the cheefest danger was past, laboured to confirme her opinion more strongly then she had doon, in this manner. Why Madame? think you if I helde these [Page 111] babling newes for trueth, I could haue the power to com­fort you in this sorte? the loue I beare to my Cozin is not so little, but rather I should incite al the world to wéep, then want consolation for you who stand in such néed ther­of. But I sée so slender appearaunce of beléefe, as I wil not before time require repute you infortunate, because discō ­forting our selues without assuraunce: the euill héereby may be amended, and the good made much more wursse es­pecially it will be the meane of discouering, what hath so long time béen shaddowed in secret. Alas, quoth Oriana, if he be dead, I care not though our loue were openly known, for all our mishaps in respect of it are nothing.

Thus debating and deuising together, the two Ladyes all that day kept their chamber, not suffering any other to come in: for when the Damosell of Denmarke (who pas­sed often in and out) was demaunded for Oriana, she an­swered that she accompanyed Mabila, whome she would not suffer to part from her, by reason of her gréefe for her Cozin Amadis. Thus was the Princesses secret sadnes couered, all night she being vnable to take any rest, such were her assaults betwéene doubt and despaire, not for­getting any thing that past betweene her and Amadis since their younger yeeres. But on the morrow about din­ner time, Brandoyuas entred the Pallace, leading Grinda­loya in his hand, which gaue great ioy to such as knew thē, for of long time they could not imagine what was become of them: they falling on their knées before the King, were quickly called to remembrance, his Maiestie thus spea­king. Sir Brandoyuas? how chaunce you haue taryed so long from vs? Alas my Lord, quoth he, imprisonment hath béene the cause, where-out (had not the good Knight Ama­dis of Gaule, giuen libertie to me, this Lady & many more, by such deeds of armes as are vnspeakable) we could ne­uer haue beene deliuered. Yet was he once in daunger of tarying there himselfe, by the villainous coniurations and sorceries of Arcalaus: but he was succoured by two Dam­sels, [Page] who deliuered him from all the exorcismes. When the King heard him name Amadis, whome he verily thought to be dead: What my fréend? quoth he, by the faith thou owest vnto God and me, is Amadis liuing? Yea my good Lord, answered Brandoyuas, it is not ten dayes since I left him in good disposition: but may it like you to tell me, why you demaund such a question? Because, said the King, Arcalaus yesterday told vs he had slaine him: héerewith he declared his spéeches, and the manner how. What a tray­terous villaine is that? replied Brandoyuas, but wursse is befalne him then he wéeneth as yet: héereto he added what passed betwéene Amadis and Arcalaus, as already you haue heard, whereby eche one forsooke the sorrow of the former false newes, the King presently commaunding, that Grin­daloya should be conducted to the Quéene, that she might vnderstand these happy tidings.

Into the Quéenes chamber is she brought, and the Dam­sell of Denmarke hearing her report, ran with all spéed to the Princesse Oriana, who hearing by her the truth of all, the passage of her spéech was stopt for a long time, séeming as one confounded with enchauntment, thinking in these newes she gaue her the bag, or that she dreamed them, but when she recouered the vse of her tongue, she thus answe­red the Damosell. Alas my fréend, did I raue? or toldest thou me that Grindaloya testified to the Quéene, how A­madis is not dead? In good faith, quoth the Damosell, I came but euen now from her highnes chamber, where Grindaloya declared how Arcalaus had deceiued them. Hap­pie be this hower, said Oriana, but I pray thée goe tell my mother, that Mabila intreates her to send the Lady to comfort her: which she did, returning right soone with Grindaloya to Oriana. I leaue you to imagin whether she were well entertained or no, with all the modest courtesies so glad tidings deserued, likewise whether Oriana and Ma­bila gaue her audience, when she recounted Amadis déedes of armes at Valderin, the miserie of her and many other, [Page 112] the daunger whereinto he fell afterward by the enchaunt­ments of Arcalaus, from which he was deliuered by two strange Damosels. The discourse héereof so pleased and contented them, that I thinke Grindaloya had an endlesse taske in the reporting, for Oriana must heare euery thing often redoubled. But repeating the daungers of Amadis, and the miserie from which he deliuered the poore captiues, caused teares so thick as winters haile to trill downe her chéekes. Thus taryed Grindaloya all day with the two Princesses, and had not so soone departed, but that she was aduertised, how that King Arban of Norgalles, (who loued her déerely) expected her returne in the Queenes chamber. Good reason had she to take leaue of Oriana, and seeke him from whome she suffered such sorrow: but when these loy­all louers met together, eche one was delighted so substan­tially, as Grindaloya thought her griefs well recompenced. Now because the Queene vnderstood, how she was daugh­ter to King Ardroyd of Seralys, and all her miseries had bin for the loue of King Arban: with instant intreatie she pro­cured her stay in the Court, doing her all the honor & fa­uour could be deuised. Grindaloya was not curious in graunting the Queenes request, because King Arban was partaker in the same sute: by this occasion the Queene was aduertised, that she had a meruailous faire Sister na­med Aldena, who was nourished in the Duke of Bristoyaes Castell, which made her presently dispatch a Gentleman thither, with request that the Duchesse would send her to the Court. This Aldena was the freend to Galaor, she for him suffered such iniurie by the Dwarffe, as you haue heard before discoursed. We haue a long time continued with Amadis, now let vs returne againe to Galaor, leaning King Lisuart in hope to see him soone in his Court, whome Arcalaus said he had slaine in combate.

FIue dayes together aboad Galaor at the Monasterie, whether he was conducted by the Damosell he deli­uered from prison, attending there the recouerie of his wounds: but whē he found himselfe able to weare his Armour, he tooke leaue of the Sisters, and rode on his iourney, euen which way fortune pleased to guide, for he had minde to no part more then another. A­bout mid-day he arriued in a valley, in the middest where­of stood a faire fountaine, where he found a Knight armed hauing no horsse: Galaor meruailing thereat, demaunded if he came thither on foote, the Knight returning this an­swere. Beleeue me no, but riding through this Forrest to a Castell of mine, I met with certaine theeues that slew my horsse: thus am I brought into the state you behold me, by reason my seruants heare not of my misfortune. Why? You shall haue my Squires monture, answered Galaor. I thanke you Sir, quoth the Knight, yet before we part hence, you shall know the great vertue of this foun­taine, for there is no poyson in the world so strong, that hath any force against this water, wherefore by reason of so soueraigne a benefit, oftentimes enuenomed beastes doo drink héerof, and are presently healed: beside, diuers of this countrey vse to come hither, and finde redresse for all their infirmities. In sooth you tell me meruailes, replied Galaor, and séeing I am now so néere it, I will alight to drinke [Page 113] thereof as other haue done. Good reason you should, an­swered the Knight, because you are ignorant of comming this way againe. Galaor leaped from his horsse, bidding his Squire alight to drinke as he did: but while they were drinking, the Knight clasped on his owne head Galaors hel­met, and taking his Launce mounted on his horsse, when leauing the Prince drinking he rode away, saying. Fare­well Knight, I must be gone, tary thou héere to beguile an other as I haue done thée. Galaor lifting his head from the water, and séeing the Knight make such haste away, thus called to him. Ah villaine, neuer did theefe such a treache­rous pranck as thou hast done: for thou hast not alone de­ceiued me, but committed an acte of great disloialtie, which thou shalt well knowe, if euer I méet with thee. Yea mary, answered the Knight, rest your selfe there, till you recouer some other meane to combate with me.

Gone is the Knight so fast as he could gallop, leauing Galaor chasing like a mad man, but séeing there was no re­medie, he mounted on his Squires horsse and pursued him, till at length he came to a double way: when not knowing which of them to take, because he had lost the sight of him, he stood still in great pensiuenes, till at length he sawe a Damosell come riding apace toward him, of whome he de­maunded, if she met not a Knight mounted on a bay Cour­ser, bearing in a white Sheeld a vermillion flower. What would you with him? replyed the Damosell. I would, quoth he, recouer againe my horsse and Armes, for they be mine, and by false villainies he hath caryed them from me. When happened this? said the Damosell: wherewith Galaor told her all the discourse. Well, quoth the Damsell, what can you doo to him being thus vnarmed? for I thinke he tooke them not away to restore them againe. I care for nothing else, said Galaor, but to find him once more. Trust me, answered the Damosell, if you will graunt me one boone, soone shall I bring ye together againe. Galaor being very desirous heereof, agreed to any thing she would de­maund. [Page] Follow me then, quoth she, so turning her horsse, rode the same way she came, keeping company awhile to­gether: but the Damosell being better mounted then he, left him behinde with his Squire, and rid before so fast, that they had lost the sight of her, trauailing the space of thrée miles without any news of her, but at last on a great plaine they sawe her returne againe. Héere you must note, that the cause of her riding thus before, was to aduertise the other Knight (being her déere fréend) of their comming, and he had expressely sent her to fetch Galaor, to deceiue him of the rest of his Armour: which he imagined easily to doo without daunger, seeing he had gotten the chiefest thing of his defence, and afterward he intended to kill him, or put him to some notorious shame. For this cause he taryed in a Pauillion, erected by him on the plaine, and no sooner came she to Galaor, but thus she spake. Gentleman, to the end I might not faile in my promise, I forsooke your com­panie awhile, only to see if the man you looke for, were in the place where I left him or no: there haue I found him little thinking on your comming, and in yonder Pauillion may you speake with him at pleasure. As thus they deui­sed together, they came to the Tent, wherefore Galaor a­lighted to enter, but the Knight méeting him at the doore, said. Sir Knight, what mooueth thee to come in heer with­out licence? trust me it is but little for thy profit, because thou must héere leaue the rest of thine Armour, or dye pre­sently. Thou mayst be therein deceiued, answered Galaor, and the words of such a wretch as thou art can not feare me. This reply very angerly incensed the Knight, lifting vp his Sword to smite the Prince on the head, but Galaor runningly escaped y^e blowe, giuing his enemy such a stroke on the top of his helmet, as made him set one knée to the ground: then quickly laying holde on him, got the helmet beside his head, spurning him to strongly with his féet, that therwith he fell on his face to the earth. When the Knight beheld himselfe in such danger, he called with a loud voice [Page 114] to the Damosell for succour, wher-upon she stepped to Ga­laor, saying: that he should hold his hand, for this was the boone he promised to giue her. But he being in extreame choller, gaue no eare to her spéeches, bringing the Knight into such estate, as he left no vitall motion in him: where­at the Damosell being ready to despaire, breathed foorth many gréeuous lamentations, saying. Alas wretch that I am, too long haue I trifled time: for in séeking to beguile an other, my selfe am worthily requited with deceit. And thou traytour, quoth she to Galaor, who hast thus cruelly put him to death, heauen send thée a more wursse and hap­lesse end, for by thée haue I lost my only felicitie in this world: for which (be well assured) it shall cost thée thy life, because thou hast broken promise with me, and in such a place will I demaund reuenge on thée, as nothing but thy death shall expiate my anger, wert thou a Knight of grea­ter hardines then thou art: if then thou make refusall there, I shall haue more then iust occasion to publish in all places, the pusillanimitie of thy faint harted courage. Faire Damosell, answered Galaor, if I had thought his death would haue been so greeuous to you, I could haue spared part of my displeasure, though iustly he deserued no lesse, but you spake when it was too late. The wursse for thee, replyed the Damosell, because thy death shall recom­pence his. Galaor seeing she continued her threatning spee­ches, without any other answere left her, lacing on his helmet, mounting on the horsse the dead Knight tooke from him: and hauing ridden a pretty while, he looked back to see if the Damosell followed him, when perceiuing her hard at his horsse heeles, demaunded of her whether she trauailed. With thee, answered the Damosell, and neuer will I leaue thee, till I haue found opportunitie to request the boone thou didst promise me, which shall be the losse of thy head by some euill death. Me thinks it were better, said Galaor, for you to take some other satisfaction of me, and happily might be more pleasing to you. Not any thing [Page] else, quoth she, thy soule shall accompany his whome thou hast slaine, else neuer shalt thou accomplish what thou hast promised me. Well, well, answered Galaor, I must stand to the hazard of that as I may: thus quarrelling, they rode on thrée dayes together, and entred the Forrest of Angaduze, an aduenture there happening to them, whereof the Author héereafter maketh mention.

But now he returneth againe to Amadis, who taking his leaue of Vrgandaes Damoselles, as you haue heard be­fore recited: rode on till about noone time, when issuing foorth of a Forrest, he saw on a plaine a very faire Castell, wher-out came a goodly Chariot, to brauely equipped as e­uer be behelde any, it béeing drawen by two braue redde steedes, which were couered with imbroydered crimosin sattin, as it made a very daintye and séemely shewe. The Chariot was guarded by eight armed Knightes, yet Ama­dis beeing desirous to see who was in it, drewe some-what neere to lift vp the rich couering, but one of the Knightes came to him with these rough woordes: Kéepe back Sir Knight, and be not so bold to come thus neere. What I doo, answered Amadis, is for no harme. Whatsoeuer it be, re­plied the other, trouble your selfe no further, in respect you are not worthy to see what is heere couered: for if you en­terprise the like againe, it will vallewe your life, because thou must deale with all in this troupe, and some such one is among vs, as is able alone to get the maistrye of thée, more easily then may we altogether vse thee as we list. I know not, saide Amadis, the Knightes valour you speak of, but hap good or bad, I will see what is in the Chariot. Heere with he tooke his Armes, which the two Knightes seeing that rode formost, they ran bothe against him, the one breaking his Launce, and the other missing: but Ama­dis sped other-wise, for the first very easily he cast from his saddle, and the other he threw both horsse and man to the ground. Then Amadis went toward the Chariot, yet was he staied by two other Knightes, one of them beeing [Page 115] likewise dismounted, and with his swoord he gaue the o­ther such a welcome on the pate as he was glad to kéep him selfe from falling, by catching fast holde about his horse neck, when the other foure sawe their companions so vsed by one Knight, they meruailed not a little, and beeing wil­ling to reuenge their iniurie, altogether fiercely charged Amadis. With this last assaulte he found him selfe sore combred, for one of them tainted him in the sheeld, and ano­ther in his armour, as he escaped hardlye from being ouer­throwen: notwithstanding he helde out valliantly, deliue­ring such strokes to the first he met, as he fell beside his horsse in a swoun. The three y^t remained turned their faces, séeking which way they they might soonest hurt him: but he snatched a Launce from one of them, which yet remai­ned whole, and met one with such a full carrire, that pier­cing quite through his throte, he fell to the ground and gaue vp the ghoste. After his death he came to an other of them, and with his swoord smote the helmet from his head: when séeing he was a very auncient Knight, hauing his head and beard so white as snowe, mooued with pittie, he fréendly thus spake. Father, hence-foorth it were good you left the vse of armes to yonger then your selfe, seeing you haue liued so long without gayning honor or commenda­tion, mary your age dooth now excuse ye. In good faith, an­swered the Knight, your spéeches are very contrarye, be­cause if it be séemely for young men to seeke renowne and fame by armes: it is more necessary that an ancient man should doo his endeuour, to maintaine those affaires so long as he can. Beléeue me Father, said Amadis, your reason is good. While thus they talked together, Amadis sawe him who was first vnhorssed make great haste toward the Castell, and so did the other which were wounded: wher­fore he approched to the Chariot, and lifting vp the coue­ring, behelde there a tombe of marble, hauing a crowned King figured theron, clothed in his royall ornaments, yet was his crowne and parte of his head some-what seuered [Page] aloofe from the rest. Hard by sat a very auncient Ladye, and neere her a yong Damosell of most excellent beautye, whom very graciously he saluted, speaking to the auncient Lady in this manner. I pray ye tell me Madame, what fi­gure is this which you accompany so carefully? What Sir Knight? quoth she, (not knowing her gardants were dis­comfited) who gaue you permission to see our secrets? None other, saide Amadis, then my desire thus to doo. In good faith, quoth the Lady, this is in you a great parte of presumption, and I meruaile that my Knightes would suffer it: then putting her head foorth of the Chariot, she saw some of them slain, others flying to y^e Castell for their safetie, and some ran after their horsses that were escaped, where-at she was so amazed, as she thus cryed out: Ah Knight, curssed be the hower of thy birth, who hast doon me this cruell out-rage. Madame, answered Amadis, your people assayled me: but now may it please ye to satisfie my demaund? Neuer shalt thou, quoth she, be resolued therin by me, hauing offered me such monstrous abuse: so saying, she caused the horsses to hye away with y^e Chariot. Amadis beholding her so agreeued, would trouble her no more but rode on his iourneye: then were the dead bodies put into the Chariot, and presently conuayed into the Castell.

Now had the Dwarffe heard all that passed betwéene Amadis and the Lady, but he knew not what was with­in the Chariot, wherfore he desired to knowe of his mai­ster. I cannot tell thee, quoth he, for she would make no answere thereof to me. In sooth, saide the Dwarffe, it is strange that women haue learned to holde their peace. As thus they rode beguiling the time, on a sudden they espied the olde Knight now vnarmed, gallop apace after them, crying so loud as he could to Amadis, that he should stay, which he did, when he deliuered him this message. My Lord, I come to you by commaundement of the Lady whome you sawe in the Chariot, and she beeing willing to make amendes for the iniurye she did ye, desires you to [Page 116] take a lodging this night in her Castell. Ah Father, reply­ed Amadis, I found her in such greefe for the debate be­twéene me and your companions, that I thinke my pre­sence will rather be hurtfull then pleasing to her. Assure your selfe, saide the Knight, your returne will be very ac­ceptable to her. Amadis thinking a Knight of such yéeres would haue told no leasing, was content to goe with him, seeing w^t what affection he coullered his speeches: and by the way he demaunded of him, why the pictures head was made in such sort, but he would tell him nothing, saying, the Lady would thorowlye resolue him in all. Being come to the Castell, he sawe the Lady and the Damosell away­ting his comming on the bridge, who bad him very hartely welcome. Ladyes, quoth he, I would be glad to doo you good, but lothe to offend ye. When he was entred, he sawe a great many armed men, who flocking about him, cryed. Yeeld Knight, else thou art but dead. Nor shall you, said he, with my will, kéepe me your prisoner. So he laced his hel­met, but he had no leysure as yet to take his Sheeld, so sharply was he assailed by his enemyes: yet did he woor­thily defend himselfe, sending them to the earth he met withall, at length by the multitude of his assaylants, he was driuen into a corner of the court, which he recouering, and keeping them therein all before him, endomaged them much better then he did before. But while he was thus combatting, he sawe the Dwarffe and Gandalin caryed in­to prison, whereat he conceiued such displeasure, as being exempt from feare of death, he layd such load on his ene­myes, that no one durst come neere him: albeit they were so many, as often times he was in daunger to fall on his knées, yet looking for no mercie at such mens hands, would deerely buy his death among them, causing diuers of them to fall dead at his féete. And the diuine bountie regarding him in pittie, deliuered him from this perill by the young beautifull Damosell, who marking his braue behauiour in chiualrie, intended to saue him, calling one of her women [Page] to whome she said. The gallant mind of this Knight moo­ueth me to compassion, so that I had rather all mine should dye, then he, therefore follow me. Why Madame? answe­red the Gentlewoman, what meane ye to doo? Let loose my Lyons, answered the Lady, that they may be scatte­red, who offer wrong to the best Knight in the world: and thou (being my vassaile) I commaund thee presently to goe let them loose. Which she durst not deny, but immediatly sent them foorth of the Caue: then the Lady (to make them retire that combatted with Amadis) cryed to them: looke to your selues my friends, for the Lyons are gotten loose by some mischance. The men being all affrayd, fled vp and downe to shun the furie of the beasts, but the Lyons made such spéede after them, as diuers they ouertooke and rent in pieces. When Amadis sawe himselfe thus rid of his ene­mies, seeing the wicket of the Castell was yet open, he went out and held the doore fast to him, while the Lions deuoured the other in the Court.

In this manner Amadis escaped his bloodie foes, yet was he so ouer-trauailed, as he could hardly sustaine him­selfe: wherefore he sate downe on a stone, holding his swoord still ready drawen, a great part whereof was broken, and the Lyons being yet so hungry, as they ran about the Court to séeke way into the feelds: nor was there any man in the Castell so hardy, that durst come downe to shut them vp againe, no, not the Damosell who had the gouern­ment of them, for they were so chafed, as no obedience was looked for in them, nor the wisest of them knew how to re­medy it: except the olde Lady should intreat the strange Knight to let them foorth, imagining because she was a woman, he would graunt her request sooner then to the rest. But she considering her false dealing toward him, durst not aduenture to mooue the sute: yet when she be­held it was her last refuge, she put her head foorth of the windowe, thus speaking to Amadis. Although (sir Knight) we haue intreated ye very hardly, yet let your courtesie [Page 117] excuse what is past: and to saue our liues, open the gate that the Lyons may come foorth, to the end our present feare may be quallyfyed, and they raunge the feelds as is their desire. This fauourable kindnes let vs obtaine at your hands, whereby we shall yéeld amends for the wrong we haue done ye: and on my faith I sweare to you, [...]ur in­tent was no otherwise then to gaine you our prisoner, vn­till you consented to be our Knight. Madame, answered Amadis, you should haue laboured your determination by a more honest way: for without constraint I would wil­lingly haue yeelded my selfe, as I haue to diuers other La­dyes who know full well my seruice. Will ye then Sir, quoth she, open the gate? No, replyed Amadis: wherewith she went from the windowe, and the young Lady trem­bling shewed her selfe, thus calling to Amadis. Ah gentle Sir, such are within héere, who could not suffer the iniurie done to you, the better they deserue to finde some fauour. With such seemely modesty vttered the Lady these words, as Amadis asked her, if she would haue the gate opened? Yea mary Sir, quoth she, I humbly desire ye. Presently he arose to obey her request, but she willed him to stay a­while, till the old Lady warranted him assurance from the rest of her seruants: nor could he but commend her wit and discretion, who getting him securitie from all in the Castell, made promise likewise, that Gandalin and the Dwarffe should be deliuered from imprisonment. Then came the auncient Knight, of whome we spake before, and calling to Amadis, he said, Because me thinks (Sir) your Shéeld is greatly impaired, and your sword in like manner broken, take this Shéeld and this Mace, wherewith you may defend the Lyons when they come foorth: so throwing the Mace and the Shéeld downe, Amadis willingly tooke them vp, returning this answere. Let me neuer be ingrate­full to them that succour me in néede. By heauen, said the Knight, séeing you vse loyaltie to wursse then beasts, no doubt is to be made of your mercy to reasonable creatures. [Page] Amadis opening the wicket, the Lyons furiously ran foorth, and he entred the Castell, which they within perceiuing, came with the Ladyes to entertaine him, desiring pardon for their offences committed, and presenting him Gandalin with the Dwarffe. By my soule, said Amadis, neuer was I so r [...]isused vpon no occasion, but séeing all enmitie is o­uer-blowen, you must giue me a horsse, for your seruants (I thanke them) haue slaine mine. Sir Knight, answered the old Lady, it is now somewhat late, if you please to vn­arme your selfe, and rest héere this might, to morrow you shall haue a horsse, or what else you neede. In hope you meane no wursse then you say, quoth Amadis, I will not refuse your offer, because the time dooth request no lesse.

Forth with was he vnarmed in a sumptuous chamber, and a costlye mantle brought to wrap about him, then re­turning to the Ladies who attended his comming, they were stricken in admiration of his excellent beautye, but much more at his vallour béeing so young: and casting his eye on her, at whose intreatance he let foorth the Lyons, he reputed her one of the fairest that euer was seene, but he spake nothing to her as yet, by reason he procéeded in this manner with the olde Lady. I pray ye Madame let me vn­derstand, why the picture which I saw in the Chariot, hath his head so seperated. Sir Knight, quoth she, if you wil pro­mise to accomplishe the couenants, before you be acquain­ted with the accident: I will tell ye, if not, I pray ye holde me excused. It were no reason Madame, replyed Amadis, to promise any thing ouer-lightly being ignorant to what end it may relate: but if you wil let me heare y^e couenants, they seeming reasonable, and in compasse of a Knights power to execute, feare not to tell me, for I will imploy my vt­termost therin. You haue reason, answered the Lady: then causing eche one to with-drawe, except the faire yong vir­gin, she thus began. Understand gentle Sir, that the fi­gure of stone you behelde, was made in the remembrance of this Ladies Father, who lyeth intombed in the Chari­ot, [Page 118] being in his time a crowned King, but on a especiall festiuall day, as he helde open courte and royall, he was assayled by his brother the vncle to this mayden, who came to tell him, that the Crowne he wore was his, by as good right as he could claime it, they being bothe issued from one roote. Then drawing a swoord, which he had hid vnder his mantle, gaue him such a stroke ther-with on the head, that it parted in such sorte as you saw in the picture. Long time before did the traitour excogitate this treason, and to the end he might the better execute it, he confederated himselfe secretly w^t certayne of the Kings seruāts, by whose meanes he wexed the stronger in his enterprise. But the King bée­ing dead, this disloyall wretche was honoured with the crowne, for the murdered Prince had no other heire then this his faire daughter, whome the aged Knight y^t brought you hether had in guard, he shewing him self so faithfull to her, as he conuayed her thence ere her Uncle could take her, and perfourmed such painefull dilligence, y^t he brought my orphane Niece hither for her better safetie. After-ward finding the meane to recouer the body of the King her Fa­ther, eche day we put into our Chariot, riding ther-with about the féeldes as you saw vs, we hauing all sollemnely sworne not to shew it any one, vnlesse by force of armes we should be compelled therto: & though such a one happe­ned to sée it, yet would we not reueale why we conducted it so, except he would promise to reuenge this horrible trea­son. Now if you be a noble Knight, bound to prosecute ver­tue, and on so iust occasion, you will imploy the forces God hath lent ye in a matter of right: for my parte, I will con­tinue as I begun, vntill I finde two other Knights on this behalfe, that you three for vs may confound the traitour and his two Sonnes, who will allow no combate, vnlesse they fight altogether, which they haue often published a­broad: how such as will reproue their dealings, must come in this sorte. In sooth Madame, answered Amadis, great reason haue you to seeke meanes of reuenge, for the most [Page] famous iniurie that euer I heard of, and he who hath doon it, cannot long endure with-out shame and mis-fortune, because heauen scorneth such monstrous actions: but if you can bring it to passe, that one after another they will come to the combate, by the helpe of God I shall dispatche them. Ah Sir, quoth she, they will neuer consent héereto. What would you haue me doo then? (replyed Amadis. Mary if it stand with your liking, said the Lady, a yéere hence to re­paire hither againe if you liue so long, you shall finde some other heere, for by that time I hope to get two Knights more, and you the third to maintaine this quarrell, I pro­mise ye, saide Amadis, not to faile in this request, ther­fore neuer trouble your selfe to séeke other twaine, because I meane to bring them with me, yea, such as shall well de­fend the right of this Lady, and reuenge the treason doone to the King her Father. These woordes he spake in respect he hoped ere then to finde his brother Galaor, and intended likewise to bring his Cozin Agraies with him, by whose assistaunce he doubted not to finishe the enterprise. Right humbly the Ladies thanked him for his good will, and be­cause, quoth they, they whome you must deale withall are valiiant, rough and expert in Armes, as any the circle of the worlde enioyeth: we request your choice may be made of such Knights, as shall be able to run thorow this woork. Beléeue me Ladyes, answered Amadis, if I had found one I am in search off, I would not stand long studying for the third, were our enemies Deuilles and no men. Tell vs then gentle Sir, said the Lady, if you please, of what coun­trey you are, and where we may finde ye in tune of our need? Madame, quoth he, I am of King Lisuartes Courte, Knight and seruant to his Queene Brisana.

By this time was supper ready and the tables couered, wherfore they brake off talke and went into a very faire hall, where such good chéere and honor was made him as might be deuised, euen vntill the hower of rest came. The good night béeing giuen on all sides, by the Damosell that [Page 119] let loose the Lyons he was conducted to his chamber, where she kept him company an indifferent while, and among o­ther spéeches, she vttered this. You haue her néere you my Lord, who succoured you this day more then you imagine. Wherein faire Lady? aunswered Amadis. My selfe, quoth she by commaundement of the young Princesse, she pit­tying your perrill and the wrong offered you: was char­ged to let loose the Lyons from their denne. I neuer saw, replyed Amadis, a more wise and discreete Lady of her yéeres. Insooth, saide the Damosell, if she liue, she shall be endued with two extremities, the one in beautye, and the other in wisdome. I desire ye, quoth Amadis, to thank her moste humblye on my behalfe, and how in acknow­ledging the good she did me, hence-foorth I will remaine her Knight. I am wel content my Lord, answered the Da­mosell, to carry her this message, because I know it will be most welcome to her: so bidding him good night, she de­parted the chamber. Now was Gandalin and the Dwarffe lodged in the next roome where they heard what had passed betweene Amadis and the Damosell, and because the Dwarffe knew nothing as yet of his Maisters loue to O­riana, he imagined some newe affection was kindled be­twéene the young Princesse and him, in respect of the offer he made to be her Knight. And to such end did he retaine this opinion, as wofull Amadis after-ward had small ioy therof: for héereby he thought to receiue a cruell death, as in continuaunce of this historye shalbe declared. The night being spent and bright day appearing, Amadis came to bid the Ladies farwell, requesting to know their names against whom he should combate. The Father, quoth the Lady, is named Abiseos, his eldest Sonne, Darrison, and the other Dramis, all three most valiant Gentlemen at Armes, excelling all other in that countrey: which like­wise is commonly called Sobradisa, confining on the King­dome of Serolys. Uery well, replied Amadis, by Gods leaue we shal one day see what they can doo. Whē he was armed, [Page] as he mounted on a lusty courser the auncient Lady had gi­uen him, the yong Princesse presented him a goodly swoord, which sometime belonged to the King her Father, saying. Sir Knight, I pray ye hence-foorth (for my sake) to weare this swoord so long as it will last, and I shall pray it may be helpefull to you in all your affaires. I assure ye fair La­dy, answered Amadis, for your sake will I carefully kéep it, and thank you therfore with all my hart: héereof like­wise you may be perswaded, that I remaine to obey you, and shall aide you in all things concerning your estate and honor. Well might it be discerned in the Lady, how these humble thankes and his former offer, pleased her not a lit­tle, wherfore the Dwarffe, (who noted the gestures on ei­ther side) softly saide to her: Madame, you haue this day made no small conquest, hauing so good a Knight at your commaundement.

AMadis being gone from the Ladyes Castell, rode on without finding a­ny aduenture, til he entred the For­rest of Angaduze, and the Dwarffe, riding some-what before, saw a far off, a Knight and a Damosell com­ming toward them. When y^e Knight came right against the Dwarffe, he drew his sword to offer him outrage: but he started aside, so that the blow lighted on his shoul­ders, wher-with he was in such feare, as he fell down from his horsse, crying out for help to his maister, who séeing whē he smote him, made hast for his defence, thus speaking to the Knight. What mooues you (Sir) to wrong my Dwarff [Page 120] without cause? now trust me it is but simple man-hood, to lay hand on such an excrement of nature as hath no de­fence of him selfe, but beeing in my guard the presumption is great. I am sory Sir, answered the Knight, to giue you any displeasure, but I must needes take his head from his shoulders, because it is my gift to this Damosell. Sooner, saide Amadis, shalt thou loose thine owne. So encountred they together, with such force, as they were both cast be­side their horsses: yet quickly recouering themselues, they began a most sharp and cruell combate with their swords. Now were they in greater danger of their persons, then e­uer they had beene before, for their Sheelds being sliced in pieces, their swords coulloured with their blood, their Ar­mour broken, their helmets battered, & themselues so sore laboured: as they were constrained to drawe back awhile to take breath, when the Knight that conducted the Dam­sell thus spake to Amadis. My fréend, you may iudge the daunger wherein we both may fall, if longer we continue the Combate: therefore I pray ye let me haue my will on the Dwarffe, and I will amend the offence afterward, if it may bée tearmed an offence to you. What? sayd A­madis, doo you thinke me of such slender stomach, as that I will suffer any thing of mine to be wronged in my presence? not so, I must and will defend him to the vtter­most. And I must néeds haue his head, answered y^e Knight. By heauen, quoth Amadis, one of ours shall first acquit him and that immediatly. Heer-with they charged eche other againe, with such wonderfull courage appearing in either, as seuerall desire to gaine the honor of the combate, made them shew extreame violence one against another: so that the best resolued of them both thought to dye, by aboun­dance of blood which issued from infinite woundes on his body, especially the Damoselles champion, who though he felt him self greatly impairing, yet made he no shew therof but held out with such braue viuacitie of spirit, as his ene­my found he had a hard taske in hand.

[Page]At this instant an other Knight chaunced to passe by, who seeing the two combattants so fierce against eche o­ther, determined to expect who should depart with victory: and placing himselfe by the Damosell, demaunded if she knewe them, or the cause of their quarrell. I must needes knowe them, answered the Damosell, because I set them together as you see, and this good hap is not a little plea­sing to me: for it is impossible but one of them must dye, nor do I greatly care which of them it be, but if both ende, together, my ioyes would be the greater. Now trust me, said the Knight, full well do you manifest a wicked dispo­sition, practising (for your pleasure) the death of two such braue men, whose health and safetie you rather ought to desire, then imagine such a disloyall thought toward them: but tell me I pray ye, what reason you haue to hate them so? That can I sufficiently, quoth she. He whose Sheeld is most defaced, is the only man of the world, to whome mine vnckle Arcalaus wisheth most harme, he being named Amadis. And the other that combates with him, is Galaor, who not long since slew the chiefest man I loued. It so fell out, that Galaor heeretofore made me promise of any thing I would request, and because this day I was most affectio­nate to his death: I haue brought him to deale with such a one, as will hardly permit him to escape with life. For I knew the other to be one of the best Knights in the world, on whome this Dwarffe (which you see) attendeth: I therefore desired Galaor to giue the little villains head, be­ing perswaded Amadis would rather dye then suffer it. Thus the one to deliuer me my request, and the other for his Dwarffes defence, are fallen into y^e extremitie of their liues, which dooth me good at the heart to behold. By my conscience Damosell, replyed the Knight, I neuer thought such mallice had remained in a woman of your sort, and I beleeue assuredly (being yet so young) if longer you liue, you will accustome your selfe to such villainie as this you begin withall: whereby you shall infect the aire and the [Page 121] other elements, to the disaduantage of the honest and ver­tuous Ladyes liuing at this day. But to sheeld them from such daunger, and these two good Knights, whome treche­rously thou wouldest should kill eche other, I will make a sacrifice of thée according to thy deserts: then lifting vp his sword, he smote her head quite from her shoulders, that it fell on the ground at her horsse féete, saying. Take the re­ward of thy merits, for the loue I beare to thine Unckle Arcalaus, who kept me his prisoner, till y^e vertuous Knight Amadis deliuered me: then running to the combattants, he cryed out aloud: Hold Lord Amadis, hold your hand, for the man you fight against is your brother Galaor. When Amadis heard these words, he threw downe his Sword and Shéeld to the earth, and embracing Galaor, said. Alas my fréend, my brother, rightly may I be tearmed the most vnhappy Knight in the world, offering you such outrage as I haue done. Galaor amazed at this aduenture, knew not what to say: but seeing how Amadis humbled himselfe on his knée, he fell downe likewise, desiring pardon, reputing himselfe wunderfull vnfortunate, in wronging thus his Lord and brother: then Amadis wéeping with inward con­ceit of ioy, thus answered. Noble brother, and my fréend, I estéeme the passed perill well imployed, because it bea­reth witnesse of what we are able to doo. So taking off their helmets to refresh themselues, they hartely thanked the Knight that thus cause their acquaintance: where­upon he told them all what the Damosell said, and the exe­cution he committed on her. Now trust me, quoth Galaor, neuer was false strumpet more rightly serued, and now am I discharged of the promise I made her. All the better for me, said the Dwarffe, and thereby haue I saued my head: yet I meruaile why she should hate me so much, in respect I neuer saw her till now to my knowledge. Then did Ga­laor at large discourse, what happened betweene him, the Damosell, and her freend, as you haue heard alreadie re­hearsed: but y^e Knight that seperated thē, seeing their Ar­mour [Page] all couered with blood, thus spake to thē. My Lords, your Armours deliuer testimonie enough, how discourte­ously your swords haue intreated your bodyes, wherefore me thinks long tarying in this place, will but endaunger your wounds: let me request ye then to mount on horsse-back and accompany me to my Castell, whether you shall not only be welcome, but finde helpe for your hurts by one skilfull therein. We will not refuse your gentle offer, sayd Amadis. Let vs set forward then, answered the Knight, and happy shall I thinke my selfe, in doing any seruice that may be liking to you: for you Lord Amadis deliuered me from such cruell imprisonment, as neuer poore Knight en­dured the like. Where was it I pray ye? replyed Amadis. At the Castell, quoth he, of Arcalaus the enchaunter, when you restored so many to libertie. How are you named? said Amadis. Balays, answered the Knight, and because my Castell is cleped Carsanta, I am often tearmed Ba­lays of Carsanta, therefore my Lords vse me and mine as your owne. Brother, said Galaor, séeing the Knight repu­teth himselfe so much bounden to you, let vs goe with him.

In short time they arriued at the Castell of Balays, where they found Gentlemen and Ladyes that courteously en­tertained them: by reason Balays had sent them word be­fore, how he brought with him the two best Knights in the world, Amadis who deliuered him from the strong prison of Arcalaus, and his noble brother Galaor. For this cause were they welcommed much more honorably, and brought into a goodly chamber to be vnarmed, where likewise stoode two costly beds, and a table furnished with soueraigne medecines for their wounds, the cure whereof, two La­dyes (being Nieces to Balays) vndertooke, for they were very learnedly skilled in Chirurgerie. Now did they im­ploy their vttermost cunning, to recompence Amadis for his woorthy paines, in restoring their Unckle from the slauerie of Arcalaus: so that within few dayes, they felt themselues indifferently amended, and almost able to [Page 122] beare their Armour as they did before. Héereupon, Ama­dis communing w^t his brother Galaor, declared how to séeke him, he departed from the Court of King Lisuart, promi­sing not to returne without his company: wherefore he intreated him to yéeld no denyall, in respect no Princes Court was better frequented with chiualrie, nor could he finde more honor in any other place. My Lord, quoth Ga­laor, I intend to accomplish what you please to commaund me, albeit I desire not as yet to be knowen among men of account: first would I haue my deedes giue some witnes, how desirous I am to imitate your proceedings, or else to dye in this religious affection. Certes brother, answered Amadis, for this matter you néede not abandon the place, séeing your renowme is alreadie greater then mine, if so be I haue any at all: yea it is darkened by the illustrate splendour of your chiualrie. Ah my Lord, replyed Galaor, neuer disguise matters in this order with me, seeing not in déedes, no, not so much as in thought, am I able to reach the height of such honor. Leaue we then this talke, said Amadis, for our Kingly Father maketh no difference of vertue betwéene vs: but will ye know what I haue pre­sently deuised? I sée well we must stay héere longer for our health, then otherwise we would, for which cause I intend if you think good, to send my Dwarffe before to King Li­suarts Court, that he may aduertise the Queene of our stay, and so soone as we are able to trauaile, we meane not to tarry long from her. Do as you please, answered Galaor. Presently was the Dwarffe dispatched thence, who made such good speede in his iourney, as within fewe dayes he arriued at Windsore, where King Lisuart was then ac­companyed with many good Knights.

IT chaunced on a certaine day, that King Lisuart summoned a méeting in Windsore Forrest, which was well stored with red Deere, and all other game néedefull for hunting. And as he was in chase of a Hart, he espied a good distaunce from him, thrée armed Knightes to crosse the way: wherfore he sent a Squire to them, with request that they would come vnto him: vpon this message they immediatly obeyed, returning with the Squire to the King, and when they drew néere him, he quickly knewe Galuanes, because he had séene him many times before: when embracing him, the King bad him har­tely welcome, and the rest in his company likewise, for he was a Prince, y^e most graciously entertained all Kniggts, especially strangers: then he demaunded what the other were. My Lord, quoth Galuanes, this young Prince is my Nephewe Agraies, Sonne to the King of Scottes, and one of the best Knights in the world I dare assure ye: the other is Oliuas, whome your maiesty hath well knowen héer-to-fore. The King embraced them very louingly, saying to A­graies: Faire Cozin, I must needs take this gentlenes, very kindely, that you would vouchsafe to sée me. As for you sir Oliuas, I thought you had forgotten vs, considering y^e long time since you were héere: and in sooth it is a matter very displeasant to me, when so good a Knight as you are would so absent him selfe. Dread Lord answered Oliuas, my ear­nest affaires kepte me hence against my will, which hath made me the more negligent in your seruice: and yet I am not frée from them, as (if you please) I shall let ye vnder­stand. Then he reported, how Galuanes and Agraies came [Page 123] to his Castell, by meanes of the Damosell that conducted them thither, whome they very woorthely deliuered from death: likewise how the Duke of Bristoya trecherouslye slew his Cozin, for which he humbly craued iustice, with free libertie to combate before his Maiesty, where he doub­ted not to make him confesse his treason. After the King had well pondered his discourse, and vnderstood the hard dealing of the Duke: he was highlye discontented, for he knew Oliuas Cozin to be a good Knight, wher-upon he thus answered. Beléeue me, seeing y^e Duke hath committed such a faulte, & you request iustice of me, assure your selfe to ob­taine it, and I will send for him to come iustifie it in person.

Presently the King gaue ouer hunting, returning with the three Knightes to his Court, conferring on many mat­ters by the waye: among which the King demaunded of Galuanes, why the Duke of Bristoya would haue burned the Damosell whom they reskewed. Because Sir, quoth he, she brought a Knight named Galaor into his pallace, and (as we vnderstand) it was in the night time, and no other reason had he to alleadge. Why? saide the King, Amadis is gone to seek Galaor, but since his departure we were put in a terrible feare, by Arcalaus, who saide he had slaine him, But are you certaine Sir, answered Agraies, that he liueth? yea indéed, quoth the King, Brandoyuas and Grinda­loya came hither since then, and they gaue vs such credible testimonye of his welfare, as I may ful wel assure ye ther­of: for lothe am I to offend any other, because no one can desire his good and honor more then I doo. It is the argu­ment of your good nature replyed Agraies, likewise in re­spect of his bountye and valour, he deserueth to be loued of you, euen with like affection as good men wish to their like.

By this time are they come to the Courte, where these newes were quickly brought to the Queene, which reioy­ced very many, especially faire Oliuia, who loued Agraies deerer then her selfe, and the Princesse Mabila his Sister was not sorry: for as she came from the Quéenes cham­ber, [Page] she met Oliuia, who thus spake to her. You cannot chuse (Madame) but be well pleased with your Brothers comming. Uery true, quoth Mabila, for I loue him as mine owne hart. Desire then I pray ye the Quéene, said Oliuia, to send for him to her Chamber, to the end we may haue the meane to conferre with him together, so shall the plea­sure of you both be fully satis-fied. That shall I doo, answe­red Mabila, so going to the Quéenes Chamber, she thus spake to her Maiestie. It were good (Madame) you should sée my brother and mine Uncle Galuanes, in respect they are come hither to honor you with their seruice. Swéet freend, said the Quéen, I take it very gently that you haue so wel aduised me, for I promise ye I am very desirous to see thē: wher-with she sent one of her Ladies to the King, desiring him that they might come to her, which he liking very well, saide. Gentlemen, my Quéene is desirous to see you all thrée, let me then request your consent héerein. You must iudge if Agraies liked this motiō, because he certainly knew to finde there the Princesse Oliuia, the choice Ladye and Mistresse of his hart. But when they came among the Ladies, their entertainment was good and gracious, espe­cially by the Quéene her selfe, who caused them to sit down by her, as meaning matter of more priuate conference. Ma­ny familiar spéeches were entercoursed betwene them, and practising by all meanes to welcome them honourably: for she was the only Quéen of the world, that soonest could win the harts of Gentlemen, and therin took no little pleasure, by meanes wherof she was loued of most and least, beeing reputed the most vertuous Lady liuing.

Now had Oliuia made choise of her place next Mabila, thinking Agraies would soonest come to his Sister when he left the Queene: but while he beguiled the time with her, his eye glaunced on the obiect of his heart, which he being vnable to dissemble, was compelled to a sudden alteration of countenance, and could not withdraw his lookes from the Adamant of his thoughts: which the Queene some­what [Page 124] noted, yet imagined his Sister Mabila was the cause, and that he was desirous to talke with her, where­fore she thus spake to him. My Lord Agraies, wil ye not see your Sister whome you loue so deerely? Yes Madame, quoth he, so it please you to giue me leaue? Heerewith he arose and came to Mabila, who stepping forward to meete him, you must thinke Oliuia was not one iote behinde her, but welcommed him both with semblable reuerence. But Oliuia loouing him as you haue heard, (ouer-maistring her will with reason, as a most wise and well aduised Prin­cesse) gaue little in outward shew: till after sundry ami­able speeches passing betweene them three, they had some leysure to stand awhile asunder from all the rest. Yet did Agraies keepe neere his Mistresse, taking her by the hand, and playing with her fingers, often sent her a sweete kisse in imagination: so that by intire regarding her, he was transported with such singuler delight, as he neither heard or made any aunswere to his Sister. She beeing igno­rant as yet of his disease, knew not well what to thinke, for notwithstanding all her courteous speeches, his minde was otherwise busied then on her: yet in the end she disco­uered the cause of this sudden mutation, perceiuing that Oliuia and her brother were surprized with ech others loue. Whereupon she thought it best to fauour them with more libertie, feigning a desire to speake with her Unckle Galua­nes, which she prettily coullered in this manner. Brother, quoth she, I pray ye intreate the Queene that my Unckle may come hither, because it is long time since I sawe him, and I haue somewhat to acquaint him withall secretly. I hope to obtaine so much of her, answered Agraies: wher­upon he went to the Queene, and thus spake. Madame, if you could spare mine vncle a little, you might doo his Niece a very great pleasure, for she is desirous to talke with him. And reason good, saide the Quéene: at which woordes Gal­uanes went with him, which Mabila séeing, she humbly met him making great reuerence, when Galuanes vsing the like [Page] to her, began in this manner. Faire Niece, I am glad to see you in such good disposition: but tell me I pray ye, doo you like Scotland or this countrey better? We shall confer quoth she, more conueniently at the windowe, because I haue many thinges to tell ye, which were needlesse for my brother to vnderstand: nor shall he, they béeing of such im­portance as they are. These woordes she vttered smiling, and with a meruailous good grace: cheefelye because her Brother might courte his freende alone. And well saide Niece, answered Galuanes, our secrets are so great, as they must needes be kept from him. So taking her by the hand, they went aside to one of the windowes, by meanes wher­of, Agraies and Oliuia were left alone: when the Prince perceiuing he had libertie to speake, trembling in aboun­daunce of affection, he began thus. Madame, to accom­plish your commaundement when you parted from me, as also to satisfie my hart which neuer enioyeth rest, but in the gracious contentment, conuayed therto through mine eyes by your presence, I am come hither to serue and obey you: assuring you on my faith, that beeing neere your per­son, my spirits feele them-selues viuified in such sorte, as they suffer with great strength the anguishes of continuall affection, which makes them dead in time of your absence. Therfore I desire ye (if it be your pleasure) to limit me some better hap héer-after, in place where I may often sée and doo you seruice: and as he would haue procéeded fur­ther, Oliuia interrupted him in this manner. Alas my Lord, I am so assured of the loue you beare me, and also of the gréefe you endure, we béeing absent one from an other: as no other proofe is required, then what mine own hart doth plainly testifie, smothering a displeasure wursse then death it self: wherto often-times I could very gladly submit my selfe, did not a cheerfull hope reback this despaire, how one day our loue shall meete together with happie contentati­on. And perswade your selfe, that I dayly trauaile in re­membraunce of our mutuall loue: meane while (swéete [Page 125] fréend) temporize and dismay not. Mistresse, said Agraies, you haue already so bound me to you, as I must (in dutye) temporize till time you please, but I desire ye to consider, how I haue no forces, but such as you must fortefie me withall: so that if you continue your graces to me as you haue begun, I shal haue strength to serue according to your deserts. While I liue my Lord, quoth she, neuer wil I faile ye, be you then so well aduised, as euery one may loue and esteem ye: wherby I may striue to loue you more thē any other can, in respect you are none of theirs, or your owne, but mine only. And if it happen some to speake of you, you must thinke I receiue incomprehensible ioye therin, for it cannot be without recitall of your hautye courage and chi­ualrie: yet my hart dreading the dangerous occurrences, which may ensue by ouer-bolde venturing, accompanieth the former pleasure with as great a paine. Agraies abash­ed to heare him selfe so praysed. vayled his lookes, and she lothe to offend him, altered her spéech, demaunding what he was determined to doo. On my faith Madame, ꝙ he, I will doo nothing but what you please to commaund me. I will then, saide Oliuia, that hence-foorth you keepe companye with your Cozin Amadis, for I know he loueth you intire­ly, and if he counsell you to be one of this Court, deny it not. Beléeue me (Madame) answered Agraies, both you & such good councelling will I obey: for setting your diuine selfe aside, there is no man liuing whom I will more credit with mine affaires, then my honourable Cozin Amadis.

At these words the Queene called him and Galuanes like­wise, hauing knowledge of him in her fathers Kingdome of Denmarke, where he perfourmed many braue deedes of armes: and likewise in Norway, so that fame reported him a right good Knight. They being with her, the Queene remembred Galuanes of her ancient acquaintance, at which instant the Princesse Oriana came to them, wherefore A­graies arose to salute her, leauing Galuanes with the Quéen, and setled himselfe to conferre with Oriana: who enter­tained him meruailous kindly, as well for Amadis sake [Page] whome he loued, as also the courtesie he shewed her in Scotland, when King Lisuart left her there at his returne from Denmarke, as you haue heard before declared: the Princesse thus speaking to Agraies. Cozin, we haue dayly desired your presence heere, especially your Sister, who not many dayes since was in great greefe, by false newes that came hither of Amadis death your kinseman, as truely you would haue wundered thereat. Good reason had she Ma­dame, quoth Agraies, to be sorowfull, and not she alone, but all the rest of his lignage were bound to no lesse: knowing when our Cozin dyeth, the chiefe and most excellent of vs all dyeth, yea, the best Knight that euer bare Armour on his body, and you must thinke, his death would haue béen auenged and accompanyed with many other. Ah, said she, the villaine Arcalaus shrewdly affrighted vs, and euill death betide him, for troubling this royall Court in such sort.

By this time the King was readie to the table, where­fore he sent for the thrée Knights from the Queene, com­maunding them to sit by him, in company of many great Lords & Barons. And as the seruice came in, two Knights entred the hall, who falling on their knées before the King, the first of them thus spake. God prosper your Maiestie with increase of ioy and honor, most humbly I desire to knowe, if Amadis of Gaule be in this Court. Not at this present, answered the King, but we could wish he were héere. Right glad would I be, said the Knight, to find him, because by his meanes I hope to recouer what I am now farre from. Tell vs my fréend, quoth the King, if you please, who you are. My Lord, replyed the Stranger, I am a sad Knight named Angriote d'Estrauaus, and this other is my brother, when King Arban of Norgalles (who was there present) heard him speake of Angriote, he started from the table, & stepping to the King, said: Dooth not your Maiestie knowe Sir Angriote? such as haue dealt with him, will say he is one of the best Knights in your Kingdom. My fréend, quoth the King to Angriote, I pray you arise, and pardon [Page 126] me if I haue not honored you according to your deserts: for the fault was only committed through ignorance, but be sure you are welcome and that with hart, but say I de­sire ye, how came you acquainted with Amadis? My Lord, replyed Angriote, I haue knowen him no long time, and my first acquaintance was very deerely bought, for I neuer thought to dye till I was wounded: but he that did me the harme, promised afterward to giue me help, which is very néedfull now to cure me: héereto he added y^e whole accident as you heard it before. In sooth, said the King, I would be glad these matters should haue a good end, but now come sit downe with vs to dinner, afterward we will consider thereon as we may. Next to King Arban was Angriote placed, and as they were about to rise from the table, Dardan the Dwarffe to Amadis entred the Hall: whome Angriote knowing, called him, demaunding where he had left his Maister, because he sawe him last in his company. Sir, quoth the Dwarffe, where soeuer I haue left him, he maketh good account of you: then falling on his knée before the King, he thus began. Amadis my Lord humbly saluteth your Maiestie, and all the rest of his fréends in this Court. Dwarffe, said the King, where didst thou leaue him? In such a place my Lorde, quoth the Dwarffe, where he is of good chéere: but if you would know any more, it must be in the presence of the Quéene. With right good will, answered the King: and héereupon sent presently for the Queene, she quickly comming, being at­tended on by diuers beautifull Ladyes, the most part of them the amourous fréends to the Knights then wayting on the King, whereby they purchased leaue (during the Dwarffes discourse) to deuise with them, at better ley­sure then long time before they could: but the Dwarffe beholding the Quéene present, thus procéeded. Madame, my Lord and maister Amadis in all humble reuerence sa­luteth your excellencie, commaunding me to tell ye, that he hath found Prince Galaor his brother he sought for. Now [Page] trust me, said The Quéene, I am hartely glad thereof. But on my credit Madame, quoth the Dwarffe, neuer was heard of such a perillous méeting of two brethren, for if God had not the better prouided, both the one and the o­ther had neuer béene séene againe, so néere were they both at the pointe of death: but by hap a good Knight arriued there, who names him selfe Balays, and he found y^e meanes to agree them. Then tolde he all the whole accident, how Balays slew the Damosell that procured their quarrell, for which, Balays was highlye commended of them all. But where hast thou left them? replyed the Quéene? At the Ca­stell of Carsanta Madame, saide the Dwarffe, where Ba­lays dwelleth, from whence I was dispatched hither with this message. But tell me Dwarffe, quoth the Quéene, what thinkest thou of Galaor? I thinke Madame, answe­red the Dwarffe, that he is one of the goodlyest Knightes in the worlde, carying a resolution not one iotte inferiour to the best: and did you sée him in company of my Lord, you could make little difference betweene them. I meruaile, saide the Queene that they come not hither. Assure your selfe, replyed the Dwarffe, no sooner shall they recouer health, but they will be heere with you, for so they expresse­lye commaunded me to tell ye. So ioyfull was the King héer-of, that he minded to keep open Court after they were come: commaunding his Lordes and Barons not to de­parte his courte, wher-to they all willingly condiscended. He likewise desired the Queen, to send for all the cheef La­dies in the Realme: For y^e more honourably, quoth he, you are attended on by Ladyes, the more Knightes shall they finde heere to deserue their loue, on whome I wil bestowe many rich giftes and presentes.

SO long soiourned Amadis and Gala­or, at the Castell of Balays of Carsan­ta, as their wounds being thorowly healed: they intended to returne to King Lisuarts Courte, before they would enterprise any other aduen­turs. Balays who desired to beare thē company, for the familiar acquain­taunce he had now with thē: intrea­ted them to affoord him so much fauour, wher-with they were very well contented Departing thence, they ride to­ward Windsore, and after they had iournied fiue dayes, they came into a foure cornered way, in the midst wherof stood a trée, and vnder it a dead Knight lay on a rich bed, with great waxe tapers standing burning at the boulster and féete, which not-with-standing any great winde could not be extinguished. The dead Knight was vnarmed, and not couered with any thing, wherfore easily might a great many woundes be discearned on his head, and a trunchion of a Launce, pierced with the iron quite through his necke and throte: beside in such manner did the dead Knight hold vp his handes theron, as if he would haue pulled foorth the Launce. Greatly was Amadis and the rest amazed héerat, and faine they would knowe what the Knight should be, but they could sée no body of whome they might enquire, nor any place néere that was inhabited, which moued A­madis thus to speake. Doubtlesse without some great occa­sion, this Knight was not brought into this place, being a­lone and furnished in this strange manner: if we stay héere [Page] a while, some aduenture or other must néedes ensue heer­on. And so thinke I, answered Galaor, wher-upon he thus spake. Brother, this rash oath, some-what displeaseth me, for I doubt it wil be an occasion of our long tarying in this place. What I haue saide, answered Galaor, is doone: with these woordes he alighted from his horsse, and sat down at the dead Knightes féete: which the other twaine percei­uing, concluded not to leaue him, but euen to take such parte as he did.

Now was it betwéene noone and euening, when they béeing thus dismounted, might at more ease visite the woundes of the dead man: and Amadis seeing his handes on the truncheon in his throat, confounded with gréefe and meruaile, said. Doubtlesse he yéelded his spirite as he now holdes his handes, because they still remained in the place. And as they were thus communing together, they heard a great noise of some comming toward them, when pre­sently they espied a Knight and two Squires, the one bea­ring a sheelde and helmet, and the other driuing a Damo­sell before him, she giuing many shréekes and outcryes, be­cause the Knight smote her often with y^e end of his Launce: and thus they passed by the bed where the dead knight lay, when the Damosell seing the three Knights by the coarse, cryed. Ah Good Knight who lyest on the bed, wert thou a­liue, I am sure thou wouldst not suffer me to be thus cru­elly handled, if hazarding thy body in a thousand perrilles might defend me: would God the death of these vallaynes had excused thine. Saist thou so? quoth the Knight that vsed her so hardly, and thou shalt know the price of thy woords: then smote her with his Launce so cruelly ouer the head, as made the blood in great aboundance to trickle downe her face, and so rode on still beating her: which Amadis gree­uing to beholde, saide to his companions. In sooth, neuer did I see such a bad minded Knight, to out-rage a poor Da­mosell in such spitefull manner: but (if God be my guide) he shal not long abuse her so. Therfore brother, quoth he to [Page 128] Galaor, if I tarry too long, set forward I pray ye to Wind­sore with Balays, and I will come thither with what speed I may: then mounting on horsse back, he commaunded Gandalin to follow him, and gallopped after the Knight, who by this time had gained a great deale of ground.

Thus remained Galaor and Balays alone there til night, which beeing very darke, they could not see but heard a Knight come riding the same way which Amadis tooke, who complaining of greefe in his legge, lay holding him self about his horsse neck: but when he espied Galaor and Bala­ys, he demaunded if they knew the Knight that rid so fast the same way he came. Why aske you? ansered Galaor, Be­cause saide the Knight, I would he might break his neck, for he runneth so rudelye, as if he followed some Deuill. What rudenes hath he offered you? answered Galaor. He would not tell me, quoth the Knight, neither by intrea­taunce or other courteous meane, why he made such haste: and I seeing him so selfe willed, laid holde on his horsse bri­dle, resolued to make him pay for boldenes, and to satisfie me either by freendship or force. Well, answered Balays, what did he there tell ye? Nothing to my demaund replyed the Knight, but peremptorily thus spake. That he would tarry no longer to tell me, except I firste combatted with him. Héer-upon we charged eche other, he giuing me such a shrowde push with his Launce, as I and my horsse were tombled quite ouer, and in the fall I brake my leg as you may beholde. When Galaor and Balays heard his reporte, knowing full well he spake of Amadis. they fell into u great laughter, saing: In good faith now are you taught againste another time, not to be ouer importunate to know any thing against a mans will. Belike you mocke me then, answered the Knight, and trust me you may hap­pen to repent it: then comming neere Galaors horsse, he gaue him such a blow on his nose, as making him furiously to break his bridle, gaue him likertie libewise to run about the feelde, & thinking he was not reuenged enough, sought [Page] how to serue Balays horsse in the same sorte, but they both stepped betweene with their Launces and kept him off: which the Knight perceiuing, giuing the spurres to his horsse, he rode away, saying. If I had sped the other knight so well, I would haue thought my self halfe recompenced: learne you then to scorne me another time. Is it true? said Balays, and God neuer helpe me in my need, if I make thee not leaue thy horsse for the other thou hast sent raunging. Presently he leapt into his Saddle, desiring Galaor to stay for him till morning, for then at the vttermoste he hoped to returne.

By these accidentes is Galaor left alone, attending newes of the matter he vowed: for he had sent his Squire to recouer his horsse, which by mishap tooke his way into a thicke wood. In meane while the greater parte of the night is spent, and Galaor could enioy no rest, through extreame affection after his enterprise: but about breake of daye he found his spirits so ouer-watched, as (whether he would or no) he was compelled to take off his helmet and sheelde, and leaning on them forgot him selfe so much, that when he awaked, he neither saw the candles burning, or the dead Knight which lay on the bed, wherat he became so sorrow­full, as he entred into these complaintes. Well I perceiue, that I am vnwoorthy so hye an enterprise, séeing so fondly I haue failed in such an easie matter. Now sée I how Fortune (through this my slothfulnes) scorneth the little fauour she shewed me at the beginning: and well may she doo so, séeing I would so carelessely fall a sléepe, at such a time as she commaunded me to watch. But séeing I haue so wilfully ōffended, I will amend it by an answera­ble penaunce: for I will recouer on foot with the trauaile of my body, the murdered man caryed from me in my sléep. Then followed he the track of their féete, whome he ima­gined had conuayed thence the Knight, and walking on warily, as lothe to faile therof, he heard the neighing of a horsse: which made him shape his course thither-ward, al­beit [Page 129] he could discearne no body, yet passed he further, be­cause he heard the like noise of other horses. Not farre had he gone, but he espied two Knightes armed, one of them béeing alighted from his horsse, and reading certaine let­ters engrauen on a stone, after-ward he saide to his com­panion. In vaine did they make me come to this place, for I vnderstand not one woord of them: wher-with he moun­ted againe, and they rode away not séeing Galaor, but he called to them, saying. Gentlemen, can ye not tell me who hath caryed away a dead Knight, who not long since laye vnder a trée in the foure cornered streete behinde? Uerily, answered one of them, we know nothing therof, but about mid-night we saw thrée Damoselles passe by, and ten Squires with them conducting a Litter. Which way did they take? said Galaor. This on the left hand, replyed the Knight: so giuing them thankes, he went the same way he was directed, and soone after saw a Damosell comming toward him, to whome he saide. It may be (Lady) you can tell me who hath caried away the dead Knight, that lay vnder the tree not farre hence? If you wil promise me quoth she, to reuenge his death, which is an exceeding great gréef to many: I will resolue you therin. I will not sticke for that, answered Galaor, for it seemeth by your woordes it is an act of iustice to doo it. Uery true, saide the Damosell, mount vp before me on my Palfray, and I shall direct ye to your desire. When they had ridden about two miles, she shewed him a meruaylous faire Castell, and alighting at the gate, she bad him enter: But remēber, quoth she, what you haue promised. And because I haue sollicited you héer­to, I pray ye let me vnderstād your name, likewise where I may finde you when time shall serue. I am called Galaor, quoth he, and thinke you shall héer-after finde me in King Lisuartes Courte, then any where else. I am satisfied, saide the Damosell, to God I commend ye: then she turned bri­dle and rode away, but Galaor entred the Castell, where he found the dead Knight laide in the middest of the Courte, [Page] and by him stood many making great lamentation. Neuer­thelesse Galaor approched nóer, and stepping to an auncient Knight, demaunded of him what the dead Knight was. Sir, answered the olde man, while he liued he was such a one, as all the worlde may bemone his misfortune. Doo you know his name? saide Galaor. He was called Anthebon replyed the other, one of the most vertuous Gentlemen that euer liued in Gaule. When Galaor heard he was a sub­iect to King Perion his Father, his hart began to storme, and as he pittied him the more, so his desire encreased to re­uenge his death: wher-upon he entreated the Knight, to acquainte him with the trueth of this tragicall accident: Sir, quoth he, this infortunate Gentleman which you sée, was (in respecte of his bountie and vertue) maryed to a wife, who now lamenteth for him, she béeing the Ladye of this Castell. In time they had a very faire Daughter, and she growing in yéers, was beloued by a Knight our too neer-neighbour: but the young Damosell euer hated him, and aboue all other could not abide him. Wherof he getting in­telligence determined by some meane or other to steale her hence, and béeing so resolued, (forgetting God, as also his own honor) watched when this good Knight, (as customely he vsed) should goe to y^e cornered stréet, there to succour such as often were distressed, because it is the moste dangerous place in this country. Knowing him thus to be from home, the disloyall wretche entred this Castell, and finding the maiden in company of her mother, with diuers other Gen­tle-women hoere disporting: maugre them all, forcibly he tooke her away, before we could fall the bridge to succour her. Hoer-upon as we after-ward vnderstood) she did no­thing day and night but gréeuously mourne, despising all the inticing blandishments the Knight vsed to her: which in y^e end displeased him so much, as be began in this sorte to reproue her. Lady you knowe y^t I loue ye with all my hart, desiring only to haue the like of you, meaning no other­wise then honourably to make you my wife: but you scorn­fullye [Page 130] disdaine me, albeit I am discended of a more noble house then your Father is, which maketh me meruaile ve­ry much, what should moue you thus to be mine enemye? In good faith I will tell ye, quoth she. I heere-to-fore made promise to my Mother, and such is still my deliberation: that I would neuer matche with any husband, if he were not so good a Knight, and comparable with my Father in chiualrie, for which she made choice of him among all other Knightes: to which woordes, he thus answered. By hea­uen I see you loue me now, for ere it be long I will make sufficient proofe, that I am a better man at armes then he. Within a while after, he lefte his Castell, béeing well mounted and armed, placing him self vnder the tree where you saw this Knight dead, to what intent I cannot tell: but vnhappily the Lord of this Castell came that way, ha­uing left his horsse and Armour, because he only intended to take the aire. The cowardly wretch séeing what aduan­tage he had of him, and remembring the promise he made his Lady, thought it place commodious to get him reputa­tion, and no witnesses by to report the contrary, so without giuing him warning, or speaking one woord to him, stea­ling behinde him, smote his Launce through his neck as you héere beholde. Thus, vnprouided of defence, likewise suddenly and most villainously, was this good Knight slain: and yet the bloody traitour not satisfied, alighting from his horsse, gaue him many needlesse cruell woundes with his swoord, and so despightfully lefte him there. In good faith, answered Galaor, the déed is monstrous, vnable to passe without common reprehension: but seing you haue vouch­safed me this fauour, I pray ye tell me, why was he after­ward laide on such a costly bed vnder the trée? Because it being a continuall passage for Knightes errant, saide the old man, to try if any would be so honourably prouoked, as to reuenge an act of such shame and contempt, after we had acquainted them with this sad discourse. I found him alone at the trée, replyed Galaor, what was the cause then [Page] you left him so? Your demaund is not amisse, quoth the olde man, for foure Squires were euer wunt to guard him: but because y^e Knight who did the murder came and threatned to kill them, we were constrained to bring away the body hither. I meruaile, saide Galaor, that I heard not the noise, it may well be saide I slept soundlye. Are you he, replyed the olde man, whome we found leaning a sleepe on your Helmet? The very same man, answered Galaor. Why did you rest so homely there? quoth the olde man. To re­uenge his death, saide Galaor, if by reason I might doo so much. Ah woorthy Sir, answered the olde man, heauen graunt the finishing therof to your honor: then taking him by the hand, he brought him to the bed wheron the dead man lay, thus speaking to the sorrowfull Lady. Madame, this Knight saith (to his power) he will reuenge the death of your Lord. Alas gentle Knight, quoth she, the God of heauen kéepe you in that good minde, for I can finde no kinred or freend in this countrey, who will doo so much for me, because my Lord was a straunger: yet while he liued, euery one shewed great fréendship in lookes, but now their kindenesse is colde enough. Lady, answered Galaor, in re­spect both he and I were borne in one countrey, my desire is the greater to reuenge his death. Are you, said y^e Lady, the Sonne to King Perion of Gaule, whome my deceassed Lord often tolde me was in King Lisuartes Courte? Neuer came I there Madame, replyed Galaor, in all my life: but tell me what he is that did this treason, and in what place I maye finde him? Gentle Lord, quoth she, you shall be con­ducted thither if you please: neuerthelesse I stand in doubt, (considering the perrill) you will mislike the enterprise, as many other haue doone, who were heer-tofore accompany­ed thither. Heerin Mad Madame, saide Galaor, is the difference betweene good and bad, yet if you will allow me so much, as you did them that made refusall, happily I may spéed better then they did. The Lady noting his honourable dis­position, called two of her Damoselles, commaunding thē [Page 131] to conduct Galaor, to the Knight that helde her daughter perforce. In sooth Madame, saide the Prince, little credit shall you haue by sending me on foote, my owne horsse I lost (not long since) in the wood by hard fortune: I pray ye then let me haue another on this condition, that if I re­uenge not your cause, I maye stand bound to deliuer him againe. You shall haue one Sir, answered the Lady, for I hope by your prowesse: not only our possessions shall remaine at your disposing, but our selues likewise your o­bedient seruantes.

THus departed Galaor in conduct of the two Damoselles, who leading him the néerest way thorow a For­rest, at the further side therof shew­ed him a Castell, beeing the place whether they were commaunded to bring him, where-upon they thus spake to the Prince. Beholde my Lord, at this Fortresse you may re­uenge the murdered Knightes death. Tell me his name, replyed Galaor. He is called Palingues, answered the Da­moselles. Being now come hard by the Castell, they sawe the gate was fast, which made Galaor call out aloud, wher­at an armed Knight came on the battlements, demaun­ding what he sought fo. I would enter the Castell answe­red Galaor. This gate, quoth he, is appointed to no other end, but for the comming foorth of such as remaine heere within. Which way shall I enter then? said Galaor. I will shewe you, quoth the Knight: But I doubt I shal trauaile in vaine, and that you dare not come to vs. Now trust me, [Page] replyed Galaor, I would faine haue béen within long since. We shall quickly sée that, said the Knight, if your hardi­nes be such as you make shewe of: alight from your horsse and come néere the Castell wall. Which Galaor did, and gi­uing his horsse to the Damosells, went to the place where he was appointed. Then came the Knight again and ano­ther with him, seeming of greater stature then his compa­nion: they two winding a winche about, ouer the wall let downe a basket with a corde, saying to the Prince. If you wil enter héere, the passage by the basket is this high way. But if I put my selfe therein, answered Galaor, will ye pro­mise to draw me vp in safetie? Yea truely, quoth they, albe­it after ward we will not warrant ye. Crediting their woordes, he entred the basket, saying. Drawe me vp, for on your honest promise I aduenture. Heer-with they be­gan to winde vp the basket, which the Damoselles séeing, meruailing not a little at Galaors hardines, said: Ah good Knight, God shéeld thée from treason, for doubtlesse thou she west a gentle and valiant hart.

By this time the Knightes had drawen him vp, taking him and the basket in at the top, afterward the Knightes thus began with him. Gentleman, it is necessary you sweare to aide the Lord of this Castell, against such as would quarrell with him for the death of Anthebon, other­wise you neuer shall departe hence. What? said Galaor, did one of you twaine kill him? Why demaund you? replyed the other. Because, quoth he, I am come to let the murde­rer know, how he hath committed a déede of monstrous treason. Come ye for that intent? said they, now surely you might haue béene a great deale better aduised: darest thou threatten vs, and art in custody? alas, we must haue another manner of account at thy handes, and we must chastice the folly wher-with thy braine is troubled: then drawing their Swoordes, they laid vpon him very fu­riously. When Galaor saw him selfe thus wronged both in woordes and déedes, he entred into such choller, as quicklye [Page 132] he made thē féele y^e edge of his swoord, so that the Damo­selles might easily heare the clanching of the strokes on the Armour: for the two Knightes were strong and vigorous, and Galaor wel moued with hot displeasure. Ah God, quoth one of the Damoselles, hark how the woorthy Knight dea­leth with the traitours, let vs not departe hence till we sée some end therof. All this while Galaor so laboured his ene­mies with such sharpe charges, as their harts began some­what to dispaire, for to one of them he gaue such a blowe on the helmet, as his swoord entred thrée fingers déepe into his head: afterward he buffeted him with the hiltes of his Swoord, that he made him fall on his knées to the ground. In meane space the other spared not Galaor, but layd loade on him to reuenge his companion, whose head the Prince had now seuered from his shoulders: and comming to the other, the coward began to turne his back, running downe the staires faster then euer he came vp: but Galaor follow­ed so nimbly, that laying holde on him, he made him sure for euer letting downe the basket againe, to draw vp any more Knightes on the walles.

Now because the Prince knew not Palingues, and doub­ting one of these twaine to be he, he threwe them ouer the battlements to the Ladies, bidding them to looke on them and afterward to resolue him: but they answered, they were so mangled as they could not iudge of them, and they were perswaded that Palingues was neither of these twain. Wher upon Galaor went downe into the Castell, and as he looked euery where about him, he espied a faire yong Lady who cryed alowd: Palingues, Palingues, is this the great chi­ualrie for which thou wouldst be renowned? now thou fly­est like a cowardly and faint harted knight, yet sayest thou wert a better man at armes then my murdered Father, whom thou killedst (as thou vauntest) in combate hand to hand. In sooth what I euer doubted is now come to passe: why doost thou not attēd this Knight who looketh for thée? if there be any manlye hart or spirit in thée, shewe it [Page] now in néed when thy life dependes theron. At these woords Galaor looked more aside, and espyed Palingues well armed, who was opening the doore of a Tower to saue him selfe, wherfore he stepped to him, saying. Beléeue me Knight, this flying will little aduantage thée, and lesse the strong hold thou wouldst enter into: for thou must answer the life of good Anthebon, whose death thou didst compasse by mon­strous villanye. Palingues séeing there was no other reme­die, turned and fiercely smote at Galaor, his swoord entring so farre into the Princes sheelde, as he was not able to pull it out againe: by meanes whereof Galaor reached him such a blow, that there-with his right arme was cut quite from his body, the gréefe wherof so pained him, as he ranne into the chamber where the Lady was, thinking by this poore shift to defend his life. But Galaor getting holde on his legges, dregged him along on his backe out againe, and with his Swoord smote his head from his shoulders: This is, quoth he, the reward of thy trecheries doone to Anthe­bon, and paiment for thy treason in the action of his death. The daughter of Anthebon being present at this déede, ha­uing heard Galaor often name her Father, fell on her knées before him with these woordes. Alas my Lord, you haue bound me in such duety to you, as neuer shall I be able to requite your paines, my selfe béeing of such simple and slen­der habilitie: but the good will I haue to recompence this benefite, hath imprinted dayelye prayers in my hart to God for you, hauing to iustly reuenged the death of my fa­ther, and the wrongfull forcing of this traitour. Galaor courteouslye taking her vp, embracing her in his armes, thus answered. On my faith faire fréend, he were a man of little sence, that would offer displeasure to such a one as you are, séeing you much better deserue to be loued and ser­ued, then with gréefe or fauour to be offended: but tel me, haue you any more enemies in this Castell? No Sir, reply­ed the Damosell, those which remaine, are to doo you ho­nor and obeysaunce. Let vs goe then, quoth he, to let in two [Page 133] Damoselles, who were my guides hither from your Lady mother. So taking him by the hand, she commaunded the gate to be opened, and the two Damoselles entred leading Galaors horsse: but when they sawe their young Mistresse, they humbly made her reuerence, demaunding if her fa­thers death were reuenged to her desire. Yea verily, quoth she, I thanke God and this Knight, who hath doone that many other could not doo.

It was now the vehement hotte time of the day, wher­fore Galaor tooke off his helmet to refreshe him selfe, when the Lady seeing him so young and beautifull, as also so va­liant in deedes of armes: began to be touched with loue, and setting aside both feare and bashfulnes, she began to imbrace and kisse him, saying. My honourable Lord and freend, more cause haue I to loue you then any other crea­ture liuing. In good faith, quoth he, and I loue you like­wise, as wel in respect of your beauty and good grace, as al­so for your deceassed Fathers sake, he and I beeing borne in one Countrey. Maye if it please ye Sir, saide she, to tell me your name? Such as are acquainted with me, answered the Prince, tearme me Galaor. In sooth my Lord, quoth she, often haue I heard my father speak of Sir Ama­dis your brother, and of you likewise, saying you were the sonnes to the King of Gaule, his liege Lord and soueraigne. As thus they deuised, they entred alone into a chamber, while the Damosells with the rest were prouiding viands: wherfore Galaor seeing time and place so cōmodious, to re­quest the loue of her that vsed him so kindely, she beeing a Lady, young, fresh and faire, named Brandueta, him selfe likewise actiue and desirous of such sweete baytes, thus spake, Madame, if Palingues loued you as I haue heard, he had great reason for it, knowing you to be such a one as I sée you are: for my self, who haue so little acquain­taunce with you, am already so deepe in deuotion to your gracious nature, as I would repute my selfe happie, if you graunted me the fauour I desire, accepting me as your [Page] fréend and seruant. The Lady not one iot behinde him in amorous affection, shaped him this answere. I haue tolde ye my Lord, that I loue you more then any other liuing creature, therfore you may be certainly assured, how my desire is to please you in all thinges what-soeuer. During these speeches, Galaor still helde his loue in his armes, kis­sing and toying with her so pleasantly, as Diana soone af­ter lost her interest in the maiden, wherto Brandueta yéel­ded with greater contentment, then all her former resi­staunces to Palingues: from whome she kept her virginitie so long, that she was now content to bestowe it on the French Prince, and he hauing a good stomach to such dain­tye diet, made her loue him the better for it while she liued. But see an vnhappy inconuenience, after many imbra­cinges and amourous conferences, as they would once more haue besieged the Fortresse of loue: the Damoselles came to tell thē that dinner was ready, wherfore (though loth) they were forced to leaue off, accompanying the Da­moselles to the place where the tables were couered, which was vnder a Gallarie enuironed with trees.

As they sat at the table, and discoursed of many mat­ters, among other thinges Brandueta declared to him, how Palingues (standing in feare of him and his brother Ama­dis) caused this Castle to be kept so stronglye: considering that her Father Anthebon was of Gaule, and King Perions subiect, the sooner would they assaye to woorke reuenge for his death. For this reason, quoth she, he allowed no other entraunce then by the basket into this Castell, where I haue liued in meruaylous greef and sorrow, as neuer shall I desire to tarry heere longer: therfore right gentle Lord and freend, might it so like you, without any longer stay I would gladly see my mother, who will not be a little glad of my returne, and yours likewise. Galaor was very well contented, and though it were late, yet got they to horsse-back, departing from the Castell: but for all their haste they were two houres benighted, which brake no [Page 134] square in respect of the good newes, the good Lady with all her familie ioyfully receiuing them, with all honourable meanes could be deuised, beside, the comforted widowe cast her selfe at his feete, vsing these speeches. Woorthye Lord, both I and mine are bound to you for euer, referring to your disposition what-soeuer we enioy, because you are the restorer and confirmer of all. I thanke you Madame, answered Galaor, for your freendly offers, but where no de­sert is, the requitall must of force be farre more easie. Now the greater parte of the night béeing spent, they brake of talke and bequeathed them-selues to rest, and Galaor be­ing alone in his chamber, remembred his louely break-fast before dinner with his new fréende: who likewise was so déepe in consideration therof, that she could wish such ano­ther ere supper, and whether she did or no, iudge you. For no sooner knewe she euerye one to be in bed, but se­cretlye she came to Galaors chamber, where she had no churlishe spéeches to driue her awaye, but moste dain­tye, swéete, and gracious entertainemente: what else they did I knowe not, but she taryed there till morning, and then returned vnséene of any.

YOu haue heard what haste Ama­dis made after the Damosell, whom the Knight led awaye perforce, bea­ting and misusing her very cruelly: but he happened to méet with ano­ther Knight, who demaunded of him why he ride so fast. What haue you to doo? answered Amadis, whe­ther it be my pleasure to ride fast or softe, In good faith? said the Knight, I speake it as one wil­ling to helpe you, if you be offered wrong by any, that you may goe in better assuraunce if you be affraid. Truely you may spare this labour, replyed Amadis, for at this time I haue no neede of your helpe. When the other heard this answere, he imagined that Amadis mocked him, which made him come and lay hold on the bridle of his horsse, say­ing. By God Sir, you shall answere my demaund, other­wise, I meane to breake your pate. I know not what thou canst doo, quoth Amadis, but I will dispatch my selfe of thée by combate, and that way resolue thée in thy request: for rashe mindes must haue rough medicines, and such as seek to knowe more then they neede, often feele more then they would. So fetching their carrire, they encountred toge­ther, the Knight shiuiring his Launce in péeces: but Ama­dis sent both horsse and man to the ground, and with such violence, as the Knights legge was broken in the fall, and Amadis had leysure to followe his iourney: this was the same man you heard of before, that made Galaors Squire goe looke his maisters horsse.

[Page 135]But now to procéede with Amadis, who tarryed not to helpe the Knight vp againe, such spéed made he after his intent, as at length he ouer-took him that led awaye the Damosell, and comming neere him, thus spake. Forbeare Sir I pray ye, and wrong the Lady no more. What wrōg haue I doone her? answered the Knight. The most shame­fullest, saide Amadis, could be deuised. What? quoth the Knight, you would then chastise me? Sir no, answered A­madis, but aduise ye by reason for your owne benefit. I heare ye well enough, saide the Knight, but you may re­turne as wise as you came. Is it true? quoth Amadis, then stepping to the Squire that led the Damoselles palfray, he stearnely saide. Uillaine let the woman alone, or thou dy­est the death. The Squire being affraide, fled away, which the Knight seeing, and being very angry therat, he came to Amadis with these woordes. Beléeue me Sir, you com­maund very audaciously: but if I know not how to charm such brauers, let Armour neuer come on my back againe. So placing their Launces in their rests, they brak their staues in the encounter: but the Knight was cast head­long out of his saddle, and before he could recouer him selfe againe, Amadis stood ready with his swoord to take his life, which he perceiuing, and that he must be forced to beg his pardon, thus spake. Gentle Sir take pittie on me, and looke what offence I haue committed by any hard deling, shall be amended by better vsage. Sweare then, said Ama­dis, neuer to wrong Lady or Damosell heer-after against her will. With all my hart, replyed the Knight, and as A­madis was comming to receiue his othe, the villaine thrust his swoord into the Princes horsse belly, which made him presentlye fall downe dead, and Amadis vnderneath in very great daunger: so that before he could get vp againe, the Knight deliuered him many cruell strokes, saying. By God Sir, now shall I déerely teach ye, how you enterprise another time to correct your better. At length Amadis re­couered footing, and gaue his enemy such a blowe through [Page] the sight of his Helmet, as cut the one side of his face clean away: wher-with he was so astonnied, that he fell to the ground, when Amadis setting his foot on him, quicklye se­perated his head from his shoulders. The night enduring all this while, yet comfortably lightned by faire Cynthia, wherby the Damosell saw the death of her aduersarye, which made her fall at the Princes féete with these woords. Alas woorthy Knight, the God of heauen (not I) must re­quite this honourable kindenes, for without your helpe, much better had death béene to me then life: yet let me re­quest this further curtesie, no more but your companye to a Castell not farre hence, where I shalbe in safetie to mine owne desire, and to trauaile alone thither will be daunge­rous for me. Nor shall you faire Damosell, saide Amadis, be in such feare, for I will not leaue ye till you be where you would: so he willed Gandalin to bring him the knights horsse, and to helpe the Damosell vp on her palfray, after­ward they rode as she conducted them. Of many mat­ters they conferred by the way, she acquainting him with the whole historye of the dead Knight, whose death you haue heard how Galaor reuenged. And comming into a meddowe by a riuers side, they alighted from their horsses, betaking them-selues to sleep a little, because it was night, she lying on a mantle that Gandalin spread for her, and A­madis leaning on his helmet as his best pillow. But as they all thus slept, it chaunced a Knight came riding by who saw them, and without making any noyse, with the great end of his Launce, he iogged the Damosell till she awaked. When she behelde him on horsse-back, thinking it was A­madis that conducted her, she started vp as one half a sleepe, demaunding if it pleased him to departe. Yea marry, quoth the Knight, and taking her by the hand mounted her vp behinde him: Why doo you so? saide the Damosell, your Squire might helpe me to mine own horsse, with-out trou­bling you in this manner. It were néedlesse, answered the Knight, for séeing a bootie is so wel offered, I mean to haue [Page 136] the cariage of it my selfe. These woordes made the Damo­sell suspect her selfe deceiued, and looking back, she behelde where Amadis lay still fast a sleepe, wherfore she cryed out to him so loud as she could. Ah helpe me Sir, quoth she, for héer is one I know not will forcibly carry me away. When the Knight heard what a noyse she made, he gaue y^e spurres to his horsse, riding away in a maine gallop: but Amadis awaking and not seing the Damosell, was greatly displea­sed, hastelye calling Gandalin to bring him his horsse, af­terward he posted the same way the Knight had taken. At length he got a sight of them, marking their entraunce in­to a thicket of trées, where he mistook his way in such sort, as he knewe not which side of the wood to take: when (though he was one of the most pacient men in y^e worlde) he conceiued this gréefe meruaylous vnkindely, saying to him selfe. Now may the Damosell well reporte, that I haue doone her as much shame as succour: for if I defen­ded her from one forcer, by my slothfulnes I haue left her in the power of one wursse then he.

Thus riding in and out among the brambles, offering much iniurie to his horsse, at length he heard the winding of a horne, which made him followe the sound therof, ima­gining the Knight did it for his pleasure. Soone after he espyed a strong Castell on the top of a mountayn and ap­proching néere, perceiued it was beguirt with a high wall, wheron were many great Towers, and the gate made sure with mighty barres. As he was séeking some place of entraunce, the watch descrying him, saide. What man at so late an hower commeth armed so neere? I am a strange Knight, answered Amadis. What would you haue? saide the watch. I seeke for one, quoth Amadis, who not long since tooke a Damosell from me. We saw none such, an­swered the watch. Heer-upon Amadis passed further, and discerned a little doore open, and the Damosell with the Knight to enter therat on foote, because they could not come neere it on horsse-back: then Amadis calling to the [Page] Knight, thus spake. Stay a while I pray you Sir, and tell me before you shut the gate, if you be the man that tooke a Damosell from me? If I tooke her from you, answered the Knight, you had the lesse care of her keeping. And the lesse man-hood, said Amadis, was in you, to steale her from me while I slept, being assured you could no other-wise haue caryed her from me so lightly. My freend, quoth y^e Knight, I haue her indeed, and of her owne good will she came with me, without any manner of solliciting or forcing. In good faith, answered Amadis, if you shew her me, and she af­firme as muche, I shall rest contented. It is not long to morning, saide the Knight, and then I will let ye see her heere, if you will enter vpon the custome of the Castell? What is the custome? replyed Amadis. You shalbe tolde it, quoth the Knight, and I thinke you will finde it too hard for your enterprising. If I could presently agrée therto? said Amadis, might I now enter? Not as yet, answered the Knight: but if you tarry till day light, we shall beholde what you can doo. So going in, he clapped too the doore, wherfore Amadis was contented to awaite the breake of day, vnder a tuft of trées hard by the Castell, and when the Sunne began to appéere, he heard the gate open, which made him quickly mount on horsse-back: then comming forward, he saw a Knight armed at all pointes, and vnder him a lusty courser, wher-upon the Porter called Amadis, demaunding if he would enter. Why haue I tarryed héere els, answered Amadis, all this while? But first, quoth the Porter, you must vnderstand our custome, to the end you may not say afterward that you were deceiued. I therfore thus aduise ye, how when you shall be entred heere, you must enter combate with this Knight, and if he get the vic­torie, you must swear to doo the commaundement of a La­dy héere within, or else be committed to a miserable prison. If he chaunce to be vanquished, it is nothing in respect, for you must be commaunded to another gate, and there enter combate with two other, whom if your fortune likewise be [Page 137] so good as to ouer-come: you haue then to deale with thrée other, they beeing right valiant and tryed men at armes, and all these you must fight against vnder the first conditi­on: but if you beare away the honor in each of these at­tempts, right shalbe doone in what-soeuer you demaund. On these conditions, replyed Amadis, I am well content to enter, and the rather because I would see the man, who tooke the Damosell from me this night past. So soone as he was entred, the first Knight and he encountred together: but Amadis ouer-threw his enemye so furiouslye, as his right arme was broken in the fall, which made him glad to yéelde for safetie of his life. At the second gate he found the other two ready tarrying for him, thretning him with prison, if he did not well defend him selfe: I must buy my libertie, quoth Amadis, with your déerest blood, kéepe it therfore from me so wel as you can. Then couering them­selues with their shéeldes, he met one of them so directlye, that he fell to the ground and his horse vpon him, very sore shaken and brused with his fall, then comming to the other with his swoord drawen, he smote the helmet quite beside his head, when beeing lothe to proceed any further with him, he saide. Now trust me Knight, it is the greatest fol­ly in the world to fight, thy head béeing bare. Care not you for that, answered the Knight, I will kéepe it as safe as you shall doo yours. And I will trye your cun­ning, quoth Amadis: then striking a full blowe at him, which the Knight shifting his body aside to escape, lost his stirrops and fel beside his horsse, when Amadis quickly step­ping to him, got holde of him by the necke, saying. Sée Knight how wel thou defendest thy head, art thou not wel woorthy to loose it for thy woordes? When the Knight sawe what danger he was in, he fell on his knee, and thus spake to the Prince. Ah woorthye Sir, for Gods sake mercye, and séeing you haue so well aduised me, neuer will I heere­after be so rash in folly, therfore I yéelde my selfe to your mercye.

[Page] Amadis béeing thus pacified, tooke a freshe Launce and mounted on horsse-backe againe, riding now to the last gate, where he espyed Ladyes and Gentle-women on the walles, who saide to eche other: If he passe the bridge in despight of our three gardants, he shall perfourme a moste rare déede of chiualrie? While thus they communed, the thrée Knightes came foorth to assayle Amadis, the firste of them vsing these woordes. Knight yéeld thy selfe, or sweare to doo the commaundement of this Lady. These are but woordes, answered Amadis, from which I can defend my self wel enough: I cannot put on the minde to yéeld my self or accomplishe the Ladyes will thou speakest off, because I know not what she is. Héer-upon a fierce combate began betwéen the prince and thē three, who shewing them-selues to be right hardye Knightes, and Amadis full lothe to re­ceiue the foyle, made a long doubtfull iudgement of victo­rye: till at length by many wounds and great losse of blood, the Knights were able to holde out no longer, flying into the Castell for safetie of them selues, yet one of them fell downe by the way, whom Amadis sware should dye if he yeelded not presently. Alas my Lord, quoth he, with all my hart I submit my selfe, and so ought all other to doo that combate against you, considering your happy fortune since you came to this Castell. With these woordes he deliuered his swoord to the Prince, who gaue it him againe, and fol­lowed the other twaine into the Pallace, where he met di­uers Ladyes and Damoselles, when the choice of them all in beauty thus spake to him. Stay a while Sir Knight if you please, for alreadye you haue doone so much, as you shall obtaine what you demaund. Lady, quoth Amadis, commaund thē your champions to yeeld them-selues van­quished. And what shall you be the better for that? saide she. When I accepted the conditions of entraunce héere, answered Amadis, it was said, that I must either be killed, or vanquishe him that I combatted withall: otherwise I haue not the right was promised. You mis-understood it, re­plyed [Page 138] the Lady, for it was tolde ye, that if perforce you en­tred thus far, you should haue reasō in what you demaun­ded: say now therfore what is your pleasure? I demaund a Damosell, quoth he, which a Knight tooke from me this last night past, while I slept by the riuers side not farre hence, and hither he brought her against her will. I pray ye Sir, saide the Lady, to sit downe and rest ye: in meane while I will send for the Knight who shall answere ye. Then sat they downe together, and she procéeded on this manner. I intreat ye Sir to resolus me, if you knowe a Knight that is named Amadis? Why aske ye Lady? quoth he. Because, replyed she, all the guarde you found in this Castell was appointed for him, and assure your selfe if he entred heere, he neuer should departe hence againe, if firste he denyed not a promise that he made. What was it? an­swered Amadis. I will tell ye Sir, saide she, on this condi­tion, that with your vtter-most endeuour you will cause him to acquite, it either by Armes or otherwise, by reason he hath not doone it iustly. In sooth Madame, quoth he, if Amadis hath promised any thing wherin he is to be tou­ched, I will (if I can) cause him to discharge it. She who vnderstood not to what end he thus spake, answered as fol­loweth. I hartily thank ye Sir, wherfore vnderstand, that Amadis promised Angriote d' Estrauaus, how he would pro­cure his Ladyes liking to him, and yet she neuer could loue him in all her life: this is a matter against all right, seeing forced affection is no loue, but dolour & miserie, then accor­ding to your promise, you must labour to cause Amadis re­uoke this vnreasonable offer. Now truste me Madame, replyed the Prince, you say right well, and séeing you may not iustly be denyed, assure your selfe I will endeuour to make him acquite you. These woordes procured many thankes from her, she not comprehending his meaning héerin: for he hoped to accomplish his promise both to An­griote & her, without derogation either to one or other, as you héer-after shall vnderstand. But Madame, said he, are [Page] you she whome Angriote loueth so? Yea truely, quoth she. I know him very well, answered Amadis, that he is one of the best Knightes in the worlde, and me thinkes there is no Lady or Gentle-woman so riche or faire, but might thinke her selfe happy and fortunate to haue such a Knight as he. Neuerthelesse, what I say, is not to exempt my selfe from the promise I made ye, for I will perfourme it if I can, because he is a much better Knight then Amadis, al­beit he made him that gentle offer.

WHile thus they were deuising toge­ther, there entred an other Knight of large proportion and strong, all armed except with his helmet and gauntlets, who thus spake to Ama­dis. It is told me Sir Knight, that you demaund a Damosell which I brought hither yester night, & how I did it against her will: but assure your selfe, she would more willingly goe with me then stay with you, therefore you may be ashamed thus to quarrell, nor haue I any rea­son to deliuer her againe to you. I would faine sée her, an­swered Amadis. It must be then, said the Knight, whether I will or no: but if you will maintaine y^t I haue wronged her, and she ought not to be mine, I presently will approoue the contrary on your person by combate. Thou canst not please me better, quoth Amadis, and in this cause will I stand not only against thée, but resolutely against all other: that by right she appertaineth not to thée, if willingly she gaue not her consent. Let vs sée then, said y^e Knight, which [Page 139] of vs shall haue her. This man of whome we speake, was Unckle germaine to Angriotes Lady, named [...] loouing and honoring him abooue all her other [...]: for he was the best Knight of his race, wise and discreet, so that she was altogether gouerned by his counsell. A goodly horsse being brought foorth for him, he laced on his helmet, and stood prouided to enter the combat: which Gro [...]e [...]sa the Lady perceiuing, she came to her Unckle with these words. Certes my Lord, it were better you should for­beare this difference, because I would be sory any harme should come to either of you, in respect you Unckle are the only man of the world whome I am most bound to loue: and this Knight I haue greatest hope in, for he hath pro­mised so to deale with Amadis, as he shall acquite the offer made to Angriote. What Niece? answered Gasinan, thinke you that he or any his like, can disswade the most gentle Knight on the earth from accomplishing his promise? I knowe not, quoth she, what you imagine of him, but I re­pute him one of the best in the world: otherwise he could not haue entred héere by strength of Armes as he did. Say you so? replyed Gasinan, you praise him ouer-much, for pas­sing the defended gates, when men of such meane account had them in charge. I say not this, but that he may be a gentle Knight, yet hope I to take him foorth a new lesson, and a better then he if he were héere: in witnes of my words, your selfe shall presently be iudge, séeing him van­quished, and my selfe peaceably possessed of the Damosell we quarrell for. Herewith the Lady left them, and they giuing the spurres to their horsses, brake their Launces gallantly in the encounter, and with such fury met their bodies, that Gasinan was dismounted, hauing a shrewd fall against the ground: yet he arose quickly, and drawing his Sword, stoode by a Marble piller in the middest of the court, thinking Amadis could there little endomage him being on horsseback, and he on foote. When Amadis sawe how his enemy dallyed with him, he wexed very angry, [Page] and striking fiercely at him, by mishap his Sword lighted short on the piller, and so was broken in thrée pieces: now grewe he into greater choller, and seeing in what daunger he was, vnprouided of a weapon to defend himselfe with­all, he leaped from his horsse so quickly as he could, when Gasinan thus spake to him. Knight, thou séeste thy death at hand, if thou graunt not the Damosell to be mine. Nor will I yéeld thereto, said Amadis, vnlesse her selfe doo first consent. Thou shalt see, quoth Gasinan, how déere this foolish humour will cost thée. With these words he deliuered him many sharpe strokes, but Amadis awarded them very cun­ningly, so that the most of thē were bestowed in vaine, ra­ther wearying his enemy, then dooing him any harme. And so long endured the combate, as the beholders were not a little amazed thereat, wundring that Gasinan got not the victorie all the while, considering what aduantage he had of the Prince: but Amadis concluded with himselfe (béeing thus extreamely handled) to hazard rather a speedie con­quest, then a lingering shame, and therefore ran violently vpon Gasinan, getting fast hold about his body so suddenly, as he had scant leisure to lift his armes for resistance, but was constrained to let fall his Sword and struggle with Amadis, who griped him terribly, so stroue they to ouer­throw eche other. But Amadis threw him with such might against the Marble piller, that he was not able to stirre hand or foote, & afterward taking vp Gasinans sword, brake the buckles of his helmet, then catching him by the head, he said. Knight, thou hast offered me great wrong since my Sword brake, but now shall I be reuenged on thée: then made he a proffer to smite off his head, which Grouenesa séeing, cryed: Ah gentle Knight, haue pittie on him and me together. With aboundance of teares trickling downe her cheekes, she came and fell at the feete of Amadis, shewing the affection of her request, and her inward gréefe to behold her Unckles death: all which Amadis well noting, feigned himselfe more willing to kill him then before, saying. If [Page 140] your sute were reasonable, I would consent thereto: but he hath so wronged me and without occasion, as I cannot be satisfied but with the losse of his head. Alas my Lord, quoth she, for Gods sake demaund some other satisfaction, for I will doo whatsoeuer you please, to redéeme his life. Lady, answered Amadis, there be but two things which may saue his life: first the deliuerance of the Damosell a­gaine to me: secondly, that you sweare to me as a loyall Lady, to meet me at the first open Court held by King Li­suart, and there to graunt a boone I shall desire of you. Gasinan beholding the danger of his life, said to her: Faire Niece, suffer me not through your default to dye, but take compassion on me, and promise the Knight faithfully what he shall demaund: which she presently did, wherefore A­madis permitted him to arise, and said to the Lady. I as­sure ye Madame, y^e sute I must obtaine of you, gain-sayeth nothing of my promise concerning Amadis: for I will ac­complish it to my vttermost, see then no default be made on your behalfe. In sooth my Lord, quoth she, I will per­fourme my duty effectually, knowing wel, such men ought [...] be honored for vertue, in whome so singuler prowesse is apparent: much lesse then neede any doubt be made, of any thing preiudiciall to my vnstained report. Be bold thereof, said Amadis: then was the Damosell sent for, and she be­ing come, Amadis demaunded if she would accompany him any further? Woorthy Sir, answered the Damosell, I will doo what you please to commaund me, in respect I haue beene so painefull to you, as while I liue I am yours in all obedience. But were it to your liking, considering the affectiō Gasinan beares me, as he would rather hazard y^e cō ­bat, then deliuer me, albeit by trechery he caried me away: I gladly could affoord to stay with him. By heauen faire Damosell, replyed Gasinan, most true and sincere is my af­fection toward you, and as I request ye not to forsake me, so doo I desire your good opinion. You haue chosen (Damo­sell) one of the best Knightes in the world, said Amadis and [Page] séeing you like eche other so well, with all my hart I leaue ye together. They both thanked him very humbly, intrea­ting he would rest him selfe there certaine dayes: but he would returne to his brother Galaor, whome he left vnder the tree by the dead Knight, by meanes wherof he excused his departure, and mounting on horsse-back, commaun­ded Gandalin to carry the broken péeces of his swoord with him. By hap Gasinan ouer-heard him, wherfore he presen­ted him with his swoord, which he accepted, and a Launce that Grouenesa gaue him: then leauing the Castell, he took the way againe toward the trée, where he hoped to finde Galaor and Balays.

BAlays of Carsanta offended, as you haue heard, with the Knightes in­iurious pranckes to Galaors horsse, followed him so fast as possible he could: but the other had gotten so farre before, as Balays heard no ty­dings of him, neuer-thelesse he rode on till about midnight, when he heard a voice a long by a Riuers side. And shaping his course thither, he found there fiue théeues well armed with Corselettes and hatchets, who villainously would force a Damosell: one of them drag­ging her by the haire of the head in a straite waye on the mountaine, and the other beating her forward with great staues. Balays seeing them vilely abuse her, entred among them saying: Trayterous murdererers, dare you so bold­ly lay holde on a Damosell? let her alone, else shall you dye according to your deserts. Then running fiercely at one of [Page 141] them, his Launce passed quite through his body, so that he fell downe dead without any more moouing. Wher-upon the other foure would reuenge their companyons death, and altogether enuironed Balays with such sharpe assaults, as one of them smote down his horsse vnder him: yet B [...] ­lays dismayed nothing therat, but béeing couragiouslye re­solued, quickly recouered footing, and drawing his swoord, layde so fiercely about him, that another of them fell down head-lesse at his féete. In bréefe, two more of them accom­panyed their fellowes in like fortune, when the last seeing he could not preuent like doome, fel on his knées before Ba­lays, saying. Good my Lord haue compassion on me, for if I dye in this wicked life I haue so long time vsed, vndoub­tedly both body and soule will perrishe together. Since thou doost, answered Balays, so willingly acknowledge thy faulte, thy life I giue thée, to the end thy repentaunce héer­after may make amendes for all: and faithfullye he kept promise with Balays, for soone after he became a religious Hermite, spending the rest of his dayes in great deuotion.

But now returneth Balays to the Damosell, who bée­ing not a little glad she was so happily deliuered, gaue him thankes for the succour she found in such necessitie, and he requesting to know how she happened into this daunger, she thus begun. Hauing occasion (Sir) to trauaile in these partes, in the narrowe way on the mountaine they stayed me, it béeing the common place for their théeuish assaults: and after they had slaine my seruantes, they brought me into this place, all of them swearing to force me one after another, but God and you haue graciouslye deliuered me. Her modest behauiour in spéeche and comely beauty, made Balays to wexe some-what enamoured, which made him thus to interrupt her. In sooth faire Damosell, I perceiue they haue dealt with ye vngently, for they were very lothe to parte with ye: but séeing fortune hath allowed such a conuenient meeting, euen where we may lay a foundation of loue, let me request this fauourable kindenes, that we [Page] may not loose so good an oportunitie. I knowe not Sir, quoth she, how you are minded, but had they compelled me to their lasciuious desires, both God and the worlde might holde me excused: contrari-wise, if I should willing­ly graunt you such an vnhonourable request, what excuse might thē serue either you or me? Hitherto you haue shew­en your selfe a well disposed Knight, let me intreat ye to accompany chiualrie, with continence and vertue, as by duety you are bound. When Balays heard her answere so soberlye, he repented that he had offred her such vndecent woordes, saying. With reason (faire virgin) you haue ful­ly satisfied me, yet pardon me for attempting so bad a sute: in respect it is no lesse séemely for Knights to moue Ladies with loue, then for them modestly to deny as you haue doone. And albeit at the first we imagin it a great conquest, to obtaine of them what we most desire: yet when wiselye and discreetly they resist our inordinate appetites, keeping the thing (without which) they are woorthy no praise: they be euen of our selues more reuerenced and commended. This is the cause, quoth she, why I more estéeme your suc­cour to mine honor then my life, because the difference be­twéene them is farre incomparable. Well, saide Balays, what will you now I shall doo for you? Let vs leaue these dead carkasses, replyed the Damosell, and goe where we may stay till day light. I like your councell, answered Ba­lays, if I had another horsse, but béeing now destitute, I know not what to doo. We will ride on my horsse, saide the the Damosell, till we finde other remedie: so he mounting vp before the Damosell, they rode till they came to a plea­sant meddow, where they rested them-selues till Sunne ri­sing, and then they went to horsse-back againe. Now be­cause Balays intended to seeke the Knight, who caused Galaors horsse to escape awaye from him, he asked the Damosell what shoulde become of her. My Lorde, quoth she, not farre hence is a house, whether when you [Page 142] haue brought me, you may departe to what place you please.

As thus they rode communing togither, he sawe a Knight come toward him, carying his legge on his horsses necke, but drawing néerer, he put foote in stirrope, couch­ing his Launce against Balays, and running at him, threwe him and the Damosell bothe from the horsse, after-ward he vsed these spéeches. In sooth Lady, I am sorye for your fall, but to amend the wrong I haue doone ye, I will bring ye-where you shall be contented, because hee that hath the charge of you, is vnwoorthye to haue so faire a creature in his custodye. Ere this had Balays recouered him selfe, and knowing him to be the Knight he sought for, he drewe his swoord, saying. By thee villayne haue I lost my horsse, and my companyon thou hast in like sorte abused, now finding me vnprouided, thou takest de­light in offering me wrong: but bothe for him and my felfe will I be reuenged on thée, else let me be thought vnwoor­thy of my order. What? quoth the Knight, art thou one of them that mocked me as I rid in the darke? I hope now I haue put the mockery on thée. Héer-upon they presentlye fell to the combate, and many sharpe blowes were giuen on either side, till Balays at length fastning holde on his enemye, got him vnder foote, when renting the Helmet from his head, he tooke his life as raunsome for his vil­lainye: and breaking his swoord in péeces, layde them by him, then mounting on his horsse, and the Damo­sell on her owne, they tooke their waye toward the trée where he left Galaor. But because their stomackes well serued them to meat, they alighted at a little Lodge, where dwelt two women of austere and holye life, who bestowed on them such chéere as they had: the Damosell acquainting them with all her mishap, and how Balays deliuered her frō the théeues, at what time they intended to dishonor her, hauing slayne her seruants, and she desti­tute of help, whereof the holye women were very glad, by [Page] reason those théeues did much harme in that countey. Af­ter they had refreshed themselues, Balays and the Damo­sell tooke their leaue, and comming to the trée, met Ama­dis there newly returned from his enterprise: wherfore they concluded no more to sunder them-selues, vntill they arriued at King Lisuartes Courte. By this time the night drew on apace, wher-upon the Damosell earnestly intrea­ted them, to lodge that night at her Fathers which was not farre off: they liking well of her fréendly offer, went with her, being there entertained and vsed very honourab­lye. Early in the morning arming them-selues, they than­ked their gentle hoste & his daughter, framing their course toward Windsore, but by the way you must note, how Ba­lays (according to his promise) presented the horsse to Gala­or which he wun from the Knight, and he refused it be­cause he had another, so that Balays saued his oath therby.

I Haue heeretofore declared, the ioy and content of the good King Lisu­art, for the newes brought by the Dwarffe, concerning the health of Amadis and Galaor: but the more to shew his princely mind, he con­cluded at their comming to keepe a most royall and magnificent Court, as all his auncestors in great Brit­tayne neuer did the like. Which Oliuas perceiuing, who came (as you haue heard) to make his complaint on the wrong done him by the Duke of Bristoya, in putting to death trayterously his Cozin germaine: fell on his knee againe before the King, desiring he might haue iustice in [Page 143] the cause. When the King had considered thereon with them of his blood, as also diuers other Knights and aunci­ent Gentlemen: he decreed that within one moneth (all excuses set apart) the Duke should come in person to an­swere Oliuas, and if with two Knights more beside him­selfe he would iustifie his cause, Oliuas should likewise pre­pare two other Knights. Warning héereof was presently sent to the Duke, and open Proclamation made the same day: that all Gentlemen following Armes, should be rea­die at the Cittie of London, on the day of our Lady follo­wing in September. Like summons was sent abroad by the Quéene, to aduertise the Ladyes and Gentlewomen of the countrey, by which meanes great resort came to the Court, where all kind of pastimes and sports were inuen­ted: without respect of fortunes mallice any way, who commonly in great assembly of states, when least they thinke of her variable changings, often telleth them, that men purpose, but she will dispose. All this royall company being in ioy and pleasure, a Damosell strangely attired entred the Pallace, and a Gentleman that bare her com­pany, demaunding where the King was: whereof being resolued by his Maiestie himself, the Damosell thus spake. In sooth (my Lord) well doo you séeme a King by your porte and countenance, yet may it be doubted what your heart is. Damosell, quoth the King, you must iudge of what you sée, and heereafter knowe the rest when you haue oc­casion to prooue. Me thinks my Lord, answered the Dam­sell, you speake according to the magnanimitie of your minde, and euen as I my selfe doo desire: remember there­fore what you haue spoken before so many great persons, for seeing you make me such a liberall offer, I hope one day to trye the matter I doubted. Neuerthelesse, I will deferre it till the feast of September, because I heare you will then keepe Court at London, where must be assem­bled many valiant men, who shall knowe by the promise you haue made me, how woorthy you are to gouerne such [Page] a noble Realme, and how highly Chiualrie is honored by you. Damosell, sayd the King, so much as effects may bet­ter my words, so much the more will it glad me, to sée good store of hardie Knights there present. My Lord, quoth she, if effects answere your woords, I shall haue great reason to be contented. So tooke she leaue of him, returning the same way she came, where-at euery one was much a­bashed, and displeased with the Kings rash promise, not knowing any reason for it: and now they began to mis­doubt, that the enterprise of this woman would bring the Kings person into some danger. But his heart was so addicted to magnanimitie, as (whatsoeuer happened) he would not be reprooued with cowardise: and so déerely did his subiects loue him, that they rather desired a thou­sand deathes, then to sée him suffer any mishap or iniurie. Whereupon the Lords and Barons perswaded him, (greatly fearing some threatned inconuenience) to alter the promise he had so lightly made: shewing it was not beséeming his Maiestie, to deale with affayres of Knights and Gentlemen, hee béeing placed in authoritye ouer them.

While they stoode on these tearmes, there entred three Knights, two of them beeing very well armed, and the third hauing on no Armour at all, for he was a man of auncient yeares, as séemed by his white head: yet in his countenance appeared a more cheerefull couller, then commonly hath béene noted in a man of his age, who like­wise was of tall and comely stature. This Knight caryed in his armes a very costly Cofer, and demaunding for the King, the Gentlemen shewed where he sate, making him way to his Maiestie, before whome he fell on his knees, thus speaking. God blesse so good a Prince as is King Li­suart, for within these fewe dayes he hath made the most woorthye promise, that euer King did, if he intend to keepe it. Beleeue me Knight, answered the King, I neuer pro­mised [Page 144] ought, but it was in my power, and therefore the easier to bée perfourmed: but I would fayne knowe your meaning héerein. I vnderstand Sir, quoth the Knight, that you intend to maintaine chiualrie in the very highest ho­nor, a matter wherein (now adayes) fewe Princes de­light, therefore are you to bee commended aboue all other. Héerein you were tolde trueth, sayd the King, and you may bée well assured, that I will doo my vttermost to ad­uaunce the cause of vertue, while I liue. Long may you continue in this minde, replyed the Knight, and because I haue likewise heard, how you haue summoned the Prin­ces and Lords of your Countrey, to bee readye at your Court the next feast of September: I haue brought you héere a thing with me, which such a King as you are ought most royally to receyue. Then opening the Cofer, he tooke foorth a Crowne of golde, so sumptuously embelished with Orientall Pearles and precious Stones, as neuer was séene a more costlyer Iewell: euery one béeing of the minde, that it was to impale the head of some e­speciall mightye Lord.

When the King had long and earnestly beheld it, hée was verye desirous to haue it at what price soeuer, which the Knight perceiuing, sayde. This Crowne my Lorde is of such workemanship, as no Ieweller in the world can make the like, and beside the vnualuable ri­ches thereof, it hath a vertue highly to be estéemed: for the King that kéepeth it in his power, shall encrease in all felicitie and honor. So will it happen to the King who must enioy it while he liueth, and long time haue I kept it, no King but you that euer sawe it: but if you like it so well, I will make yee a present thereof, pro­uided, you helpe to saue my head, which I am in some daunger to loose. All this whyle was the Quéene in place, earnestly wishing that the King her husband might haue it, where-upon she said to the King. Me thinkes [Page] (my Lord) it would full well become your Maiestie, if you may haue it at so easie a rate as he demaundeth. Madame quoth the Knight, I haue a better thing for you if you please to buye it, it is this mantle, the richest and fairest that euer was séene: for beside the precious stones wher­with it is beautified, it is imbroydred with all sortes of beastes and birdes, which nature hath giuen life to. On my faith, answered the Queene, it is a most rare and curi­ous piece of woorke, not wrought (as I thinke) by humane capacitie. You say true, Madame, replyed the Knight, for the like heereof is not to be found, yet may not the riches compare with the propertie and great vertue of this man­tle, which is such, as it rather belongeth to maryed Ladies then any other: because she that weareth it, shall neuer be offended with her husband. A vertue of chéefe regarde, an­swered the Quéen, if it haue any such indéed? I haue tolde ye true Madame, quoth the Knight, if you will buy it, you may proue. Now grewe she meruaylous desirous of it, what-soeuer price should be paide for it, especially to con­serue peace and loue betwéene the King and her, wherfore she said to the Knight: Say Sir, how doo you estimate this Mantle and the Crowne? My Lord, quoth he, and you good Madame, I beseeche you to vnderstand my fortune. I am but lately escaped the handes of him, who long time kept me prisoner on a strange condition, which is no little cause of gréefe to me, for I am out of all hope to finde reme­die while I liue: and because I know not well the valewe of these Iewelles, I will leaue them in your custodye, vn­till the day you holde open Courte at London, where you shall deliuer them againe to me, or giue so much for them as I then demaund. In mean while, you may make triall of them if you please, for hauing experimented what I haue saide, you may the more willingly pay well for them. Now trust me, saide the King, séeing you repose such con­fidence in me, assure your selfe to haue what-soeuer you re­quest, or else they shalbe restored againe. It suffiseth, quoth [Page 145] the Knight, then turning to the Lordes, he thus procéeded. Woorthy Lordes, you haue all heard what the King hath promised me, that he wil restore the Mantle and y^e Crown, which I leaue in your presence, or giue me what-soeuer I shall demaund. So much his Maiesty hath saide, replyed the Lordes, and we are witnesses therof. Adiew then, an­swered the auncient Knight, for perfocre I must return to the most cruell prison, that euer poore Knight was enclosed in. But héere you must note, how during the time of this conference, the two armed Knightes which conducted the olde man, was still in presence, the one of them hauing the beuer of his Helmet open, and séemed a young man, the o­ther held downe his head as lothe to be knowen, béeing of so tall and mighty stature, as no Knight in the Kinges Court might be equalled with him. So departed they a­gaine all thrée together, leauing the Mantle and the Crowne in the Kinges custodye.

AMadis, Galaor and Balays, béeing all happily met together, rode on with­out any occasion to trouble them, vntill they came to the Courte of King Lisuart, where they were wel­commed with excéeding ioy, because Galaor was neuer there before, nor knowen but by renowne of his fa­mous chiualrie. Beside, eche one re­ioyced to sée Amadis, who by y^e false report of Arcalaus was thought to be dead: and graciously did the King entertain them all, conducting them to a chamber where they were vnarmed, blaming the villainous inuention of Arcalaus. [Page] and the Damosell that caused their combate together, practising the death of two so noble Princes, who were but euen now in the prime and flower of their youth. Right soone did the King aduertise the Quéene of their ar­riuall, when accompanied with Agraies, Galuanes and King Arban, he went with them among the Ladies: but Amadis casting his eye on Oriana, and she on him, I leaue their ioyfull passions to your iudgement, remembring that when long absent louers méete, lookes, sighes and teares are familiarly entercoursed, béeing the only means to con­tēt ech others hart. Yet Amadis thought it not best to stād still thus musing, least euery eye should growe cunning in coniecturing the cause: which to auoide, he fell on his knee before the Quéene, saying. Madame, according to your charge at my departure from the Courte, I haue brought this Knight, whom I present as only yours. I thanke ye Sir Amadis, quoth the Queene, both he and you are wel­come to our presence. In good faith Madame, said the King, you doo me wrong if you take them both: Amadis already is yours, me thinkes you should be content with him, and leaue Lord Galaor for me. You aske no small matter, an­swered the Quéene, but if he be so pleased, I am not against it, albeit such a present was neuer giuen in great Brittaine: not-with-standing, séeing you are the best King that euer reigned heer, so good a Knight is wel bestowed on you. But what say you Lord Galaor? the King is desirous to haue you, will ye then be his? Madame, quoth Galaor, me thinkes that any thing so great a Prince demaundeth, should be graunted if it were possible: heere am I to obey you in euery respect, so please my Lord and brother to like therof, because he hath greatest authoritie ouer me. It con­tents me very well, saide the Quéene, that you should doo as your brother commaundeth, for through him shall I haue title in you, by reason he is mine. I am yours indeed Madame, answered Amadis, and brother you must be my fellowe seruant to the Queene. With all my hart, replyed [Page 146] Galaor, I am content, and seeing you haue giuen me to her seruice, for euer I shall remaine at her disposition. I thank you Sir, quoth the Quéene, now may I boldelye giue you to the King, for I see he would be glad of so good a freend: then stepping to the King, she said. My Lord, you are desi­rous of this Knight, I giue him you, on this condition, that you loue and intreat him according to his desertes, which may not be valued at any meane rate. Beleeue me Ma­dame, answered the King, I take this gift most kindely at your hand, assuring you, he shall soone perceiue how I loue and estéeme him: nor can I be so affectionate to him, as he hath noble vertues wherby to induce me, which none can valewe or compare withall. But if Amadis durst haue spoken, he gladly would haue maintained the contrary, for he perswaded him self, that he loued his Oriana beyond his brothers deserte, or any other what-soeuer. So remained Galaor in the Kinges seruice, from which he could not be se­perated, for any quarrell concerning Amadis, as we shall haue occasion to declare héereafter.

All this while Oriana, Mabila, and Oliuia, had with­drawen themselues from the other Ladyes, likewise A­graies and Amadis were talking together, when Galaor was thus graciously entertained by the King and Quéene: wherefore Mabila called her brother, saying. I pray yée cause the Knight to come hither that standeth with you conferring, because we are desirous to sée him. Agraies re­turned where he left Amadis, who dissembled as if he thought not on the Ladies, till the Prince thus spake: My Lord, these Gentlewomen would fayne speake with you, and desire you to come a little more néere them: which he presently did. But Mabila being wise and discreet, not ig­norant what medicines should be applyed to passionate mindes: after they all thrée had saluted them, Mabila tooke Amadis by the hand, desiring him to sit betwéene Ori­ana and her, leauing Agraies to court his Oliuia: they be­ing set, she merily thus began. Although I am now among [Page] those foure fréends, whome I haue most cause to loue and regard: yet haue I such present bus [...]nes else-where, as I must of necessitie leaue you awhile. Thus deuised she to bring the loouers together, and by a pretty wyle gaue them oportunitie, to content their thoughtes with secret com­munication. Now beginneth Amadis to conferre with his Lady, and thinking to declare the great affection, which vnder good hope gaue him life and essence: extreame loue tooke from him the facilitie of spéeche, yet his eyes not vn­mindfull of their office, supplyed the defect of the tongue, deliuering testimony to their diuine obiect, how farre the sad and languishing heart was transported by ease and pleasure. Which Oriana perceiuing, she secretly tooke his hand vnder her mantle, & wringing him by the fingers sigh­ing thus spake. My Lord and fréend, what dolour & greefe did the traytour procure in me, who brought hither tidings of your death? neuer was poore mayden in greater perill, and not without cause: for neuer did woman sustaine such a losse, as I should haue done in loosing you. And as I am better loued then any other, so hath my fortune graciously fauoured me, that it should be by him who is of higher de­sert then any other. Héerewith Amadis cast downe his lookes, as bashfull to heare himselfe so praysed, by her to whome all commendation was due: and féeling his spi­rits altered, stroue to make answere, but the words dyed in his mouth, which caused Oriana thus to procéede. How can it be otherwise my Lord, but I must needes loue you aboue all other, when they that neuer sawe you, doo high­ly loue, honor and estéeme you? and I being she whome you affect most déerely, haue I not great reason to loue you better then my selfe? On my faith Madame, answered A­madis, your swéete and gentle words, are sufficient to make me dye a thousand deaths, & as many times to reuiue me againe: but how? I pray you at this time only to excuse my extremity with pittie, enduring wursse then death by louing you too vehemētly: for if I had dyed as Arcalaus re­ported, [Page 147] euen then had begun my rest and quiet, if I had not knowen you before. And albeit the hower of your acquain­tance is my intire felicitie, yet am I assaulted with such violent passions, as my heart would altogether consume in griefe, without the pleasure it receiueth in dooing you seruice, and the good it sustaineth by your remembrance of me. But necessitie constraineth me, to craue the mercy as yet vndeserued, by such intreatance as no desert may va­lue, only to encrease my habilitie in seruing you, which if you graunt me not, a sudden and cruell death will take hold on me. These words were accompanyed with such a­boundance of teares, as was no small greefe to her to be­hold. Alas my Lord, quoth she, forbeare these often repeti­tions of your death, the thought thereof is insupportable to me, for should you dye, I were vnable to liue one hower after: considering all the pleasure I haue in this world, is in the ioy of your health and welfare. Nor can I but be as­sured of your words, by reason mine own case is sufficient therein, being copartner with you in euery torment: but if yours seeme more violent, this is the reason, my will be­ing equall with yours, wanteth the strength you haue in suffering, and cannot effect the desire of our hearts, which vrgeth loue and griefe more in you then me, albeit my share is not one iote the lesse. But this I promise you on my faith, if fortune or our owne endeuour, can compasse no meane to yéeld vs content, my selfe will search some way whatsoeuer happen, be it hate of father, mother, kinred, and fréends: for we may not thus procrastinate our ioy, and groane vnder the weightie burden of desire, the flame whereof climeth so high, as the martirdome of our hearts may easily be discouered. No doubt these words were pleasing to Amadis, and gaue such chéerefull life to his hope, that he was rauished with inward conceit thereof: when she séeing him mute, trode vpon his foote, saying. Discom­fort not your selfe my Lord, for I will not fayle what I haue promised, nor shall you depart till you perceiue it: and [Page] shortly will the King hold open Court, when both he and the Quéene must depend on your assistance, knowing well that your presence shall honor the company.

As they would haue continued in longer talke, the Quéene called Amadis, causing him to sit downe by Gala­or, for the King was gone to his chamber. Then began the Ladyes to censure on the bretheren, but they resembled eche other so like, as little difference could be discerned be­twéene them: euery one being of the opinion, that these twayne were the most perfect among all Knights, both in beautie, noblenes, bountie, and good grace: but Galaor was somewhat whiter in complexion, and Amadis of big­ger bone, his locks more crispe & faire, and hauing a little more red in his face then Galaor had. Soone after, the Queene willed Galaor to go sée her daughter and the other Ladyes, when he regarding the excellent beautie of Oria­na, imagined such an other was not to be found in the world, and by her often sighing with alteration of couller, he suspected her to be the only cause, that his brother liked so well to stay in King Lisuarts Court. Right courteously was he welcommed among the Ladyes, and diuers fami­liar speéeches passed betwéene them: till the King being set to meate, sent for Amadis and Galaor to beare him compa­ny, as also Agraies and his Unckle Galuanes.

IN the beginning of this book it hath béen declared, how the diuine boun­tie calling Lisuart to the Realme of great Brittayne, soone after, of a dis­inherited Prince, made him the peaceable King of such a Monar­chy, by the death of his elder brother Falangris, who dyed without any heire of his body begotten. Like­wise how he was reputed such a great Lord through the world, as many Knights came from strange Countryes to serue him, not thinking themselues happy, except they might be named Knightes of his Court. But within a while after, whether this fortunat King forgot y^e authour of his good, or else it happened by diuine permission: this happie Realme fell into persecution, and the illustrious state of King Lisuart was troubled and obscured, that all men might knowe: how he only is Lord and King of all liuing creatures, who exalteth and abaseth when him plea­seth, according as you shall héere vnderstand. For King Lisuart hauing concluded, to hold the most royall and state­ly Court, that euer King did in the Realme of great Brit­tayne, commaunded that on the fift day following, all the Lords of his Kingdome should appeare personally at Lon­don, there to determine on matters of chiualrie, which he intended to maintaine with all honor might be deuised. But in the selfe-same place, where he thought the greater part of the world should yéeld him obeysaunce, began the first mutabilities of Fortune, bringing his state and person into danger of vtter ruine, according as you shall vnder­stand at large.

[Page]King Lisuart departing with all his traine from Wind­sore, to kéepe his Courte at the famous Cittie of London, it was wonderfull to beholde the Lordes, Ladyes, and Gentlewomen that gaue their attendaunce, especiallye so many young Gentlemen beeing there present: some to re­garde the magnificence of the Courte, other to doo seruice to their louely mistresses, and nothing now generally min­ded but pastime and pleasure. The King likewise (for grea­ter maiestie of his Courte) ordayned that none of this as­semblye should lodge in the Citie, but to erect their Pauil­lions in the feeldes and meddowes, along the bancks that hemmed in the faire Riuer of Themes, least the extream [...] heate might be hurtfull to them: all which béeing doone ac­cording to appointment, the feeldes seemed as a most royall Campe, or as if the greater parte of the worlde were there assembled. But because the King arriued there two or thrée dayes before the feaste, he went to his pallace, accom­panied only with his Quéene, Amadis, Galaor, Agraies, Don Galuanes, and certaine other his most fauoured: the rest kept themselues in their Tentes, according as the Herbin­gers had in quarters limitted them. With sundry sortes of pastimes was the King entertained, which continued till Fortune (enuying his felicitie) chaunged them into gréefe and teares: by the meanes of a Lord, no subiect to y^e King, but his néerer neighbour then fréend, named Barsinan, a man opulent in riches, and endued with fewe vertues, as may be gathered by the matter ensuing.

This Barsinan was Lord of a countrey, called Sansue­gua, and very familiar with Arcalaus the enchaunter, who not long before came to him, and cōferred with him in this manner. My Lord, quoth he, the great desire I haue to doo you seruice, hath made me inuent the meane (if you like therof) to deliuer in short time the Realme of great Brit­tayne quietlye into your handes, without much hazar­ding your person, or any great expence. When Barsinan, (who was a very ambitious man) heard the woordes of [Page 149] Arcalaus, who promised to make him King if he would: he thus replyed. In good faith my deere freend Arcalaus, if thou canst perfourme the thing thou vauntest of, no feare shall hinder me to hazard my person, much lesse will I rec­kon of expence, if I sée any likely-hood in the compassing. It is a thing, saide Arcalaus, very easie to be doone, and pre­sently shall you vnderstand by what meanes: prouided that you sweare to me, after you are seated in the regi­ment, to make me super-intendent and cheefe maister of your housholde. That will I, answered Barsinan, with any thing else thou shalt desire. Marke then the platfourme, quoth Arcalaus. You know how King Lisuart hath openlye published, this feaste of September to holde open Courte, whether you must goe well accompanied with Knightes, then shall I order the matter in such sorte, that I will cary away the King prisoner, no man aliue beeing able to suc­cour him: in like manner will I cary thence his daughter, whom you shall take to wife, and afterward will I send ye the Kinges head. Thus in respect the Princesse is right heire to the crowne, and you enioying her in marriage, bee­ing well accompanied with Knightes as I tolde ye: easily may you make seazure on the Realme, nor shall you finde any to speake against it. In sooth, answered Barsinan, if such an enterprise might sorte to effect, I would make thée more riche and mighty then euer were any of thy linage, as also the chéefe commaunder in my house. It suffiseth saide Arcalaus, your selfe shall soone perceiue, that sildome I en­terprise any thing, but it comes to passe: then fayle not to be present in the assembly at London. So came the tray­tour Barsinan to king Lisuart, feigning his intent to doo him honour, wherfore the King sent many of his Knightes, en­tertaining him as a most noble fréend, appointing his lod­ging and all thinges else necessary for him, and being with the King in his Pallace, he entred into these spéeches. My Lord, vnderstanding what royall magnificence you meane to keepe in your Courte, as also the good Knightes and [Page] braue men were heer to be seen, this day I intended to ho­nor you w^t my person: not as your vassaile or subiect, hol­ding my Countreye of God and by the swoord, but as your good neighbour, and freend if you please. Trust me, quoth the King, you doo me very great pleasure and honor, and I thanke you for this gentle paines, that you would be seen in so good companye: assuring you Lord Barsinan and my fréend, this courtesie shall be remembred in what I maye, for I make very especiall account of you. Your Maiesty dealeth very kindely with me, replyed Barsinan, and I pro­test on my faith, to be readye in councelling your affaires for the best, according as I haue a long time desired. Sée how the traytour lyed in euerye woord, but the good King misdoubting nothing, requited his offer w^t many thanks, and to doo him the greater honor, appointed his lodging in his owne Pallace, him selfe and his Quéene going foorth of the Cittie with their Tentes and pauillions, imagining he could not doo too much for the traitour. And firste he ac­quainted him with his whole enterprise, and wherfore he caused this great assembly, declaring the meanes and Sir­names of the best cōmended Knightes, their hautie prow­esse and resolutions, among whom he forgot not Amadis and Galaor, whose hardines was impossible to be equalled, they two being accomplished with all the vertues required in chiualrie. When the King was with-drawen to his Tentes, and Barsinan to the Pallace, he began to consider on the strength of his Maiestie, as also the loue and obey­saūce so many great Princes shewed him: which made him vnable to enioy any rest, and often-times he repented his foolish enterprise, seeing how hard it would proue in execu­tion. Now he minded to alter his determinatiō, when sud­denly another opinion entred his braine, so that wauering vp & down in his thoughts, he could not resolue on any cer­taintie. On the next morning he came to y^e King, who was now clothed in his royall ornaments, because it was y^e first day of open Court: and be commaunded one to goe to the [Page 150] Quéene, willing her to send him the Crowne he had of the Knight, and she to clothe her selfe in y^e sumptuous mantle. Heereupon she presently sent for the Cofer, and opening it, found nothing therein, whereat she was greatly amazed, considering she trusted no body with the keye thereof, but her owne selfe, and euermore caryed it about her. But knowing not how to remedie this mishap, she acquainted the King therewith, who in great displeasure came to her, saying. I meruayle Madame you haue kept so badly, the Iewell which would haue so greatly honored this time, considering vnder what condition it was left with vs. On my faith my Lord, quoth she, I knowe not what to say, I found the Cofer fast lockt, and none but my selfe hath kept the keye of it. But in a dreame this last night, me thought a Damosell willed me to shew it her, which I did: after­ward she demaunded the keye, and I gaue it her, when opening the Cofer, she tooke foorth the mantle and the Crowne, locking it againe, and laying the keye where I tooke it. This done, she put the mantle about her, and the Crowne on her head, they beseeming her so well, as I re­ceiued great pleasure in beholding her, and thus she spake. That her selfe, or she from whome she came, before fiue dayes, should rule in the countrey of a mightie King, who at this time laboured to defend it, and to conquer it from other. Heereupon I demaunded what she was, and she answered: You shall knowe at the time I haue spoken of. So she vanished frō me with the Crowne and the mantle: but on my faith I knowe not if this vision came to me slee­ping, or whether it be of truth. The King was now in gre­ter meruaile then before, willing her to dissemble the mat­ter, and not to reueale it to any body: then taking her by the hand, they left the chamber, comming among the Knights and Ladyes, in the place appointed for the cere­monyes of the day, where sitting downe in two chayres of state the King called his Knights about him, & the Queene her Ladyes, with whome she communed. Now had his [Page] Maiestie giuen order, that néerest his person should be A­madis, Galaor, Agraies and Don Galuanes, and at his back King Arban of Norgalles well armed, holding his Swoord readye drawen, and two hundred Knights for his guard, then by a Herald he commaunded silence. But as the King began to speake, there entred a most beautifull Lady very richly attired, and with her twelue other Damosels in like brauerie: For in those dayes, the great Lords and Ladyes were wunt to bring their people to such assemblies, clothed according to their owne persons, without any difference at all betwéene them: this faire Lady addressed her spée­ches to the King, deliuering them in fourme following. My Lord, most humbly I beséeche yée to graunt me audi­ence, and giue me reason in a matter of difference, which I haue against the Knight that standeth by your Maiestie, meaning Amadis. Long time haue I béene requested by Angriote d' Estrauaus to be his Wife, who I am assured is in this royall presence: héereto she added how euery thing happened, the cause why he kept y^e vale of the Pines, & how Amadis trauailing that way, made him perforce to abādon Armes. Neuerthelesse, quoth she, they departed fréends, and Amadis sollemnely promised Angriote, that he should enioy me as his Wife: whereof when I attained know­ledge, I withdrew my selfe to a Castell of mine, where I kept such a strong guard and custome, as it was thought impossible for any strange Knight to enter there without licence: but that Knight comming thither, vanquished my gardants, and hath vtterly abollished the drift I intended. Yet afterward of his owne good will he promised me, to cause Amadis recall his offer to Angriote: then chaunced an vnhappie combate betwéene him and this Knight mine Unckle, who being at the latest extremitie of his life, at my request he was spared, on this condition: that on the first day your Maiestie held open Court, I should héere pre­sent my selfe, to graunt a request he must demaund of me. To satisfye my promise I am come hither, and desire to [Page 151] knowe what he will commaund me: at which words A­madis stepped forward, saying. My Lord, the Lady hath told ye nothing but truth, concerning the seuerall promi­ses at the combates: therefore am I ready héere to accom­plish, that Amadis shall call back his word to Angriote, pro­uided, she perfourme her owne promise. On my conscience, quoth she, if you effect what you haue said, you pleasure me more then you can imagine: and to let you knowe I am ready to fulfill my offer, demaund what you please, for if it be in my power you shall preuaile. I request nothing else, answered Amadis, but that you would accept Angriote as your husband, he louing you so déerely as he doth. Out a­las, cryed the Lady, what manner of demaund is this? I wish Madame, said Amadis, that you would mary with such a one, as is well woorthy to haue so faire a Lady. In sooth Knight, quoth she, this is not according to the promise you made me. I promised nothing, replyed Amadis, but I will perfourme it: for if I stand bound to you, to cause A­madis discharge his word to Angriote, héerein I accomplish it. I am Amadis, and I reuoke the promise I made him, wherein you must néedes confesse your selfe satisfyed: he gladly would enioy you as his Wife, and I ioyne with him in the same request, thus stand I free discharged to you both. May it be possible? quoth she, that you are the man so highly renowmed? Credit me Lady, answered the King, this is Amadis. Ah wretch that I am, said she, now doo I well perceiue, that art nor cunning can preuent what God hath appointed, for I haue doone my vttermost to escape Angriote, not only for the euill I wish him, disdaining his good and vertuous deserts: but carying this resolution, that keeping my selfe chaste and single, I would not bring my libertie into subiection: and now when I thought to be furthest from him, I am come néerer then euer I intended. Lady, quoth the King, you haue great occasion to reioyce, for you being faire and riche, he is a young and braue dis­posed Knight: as you are riche in goods and possessions, [Page] euen so is he in bountie and vertue, not only in déedes of Armes, but in all other good quallities beséeming a Knight, therefore your mariage together is very requi­site, and I thinke all in this presence are of mine opi­nion: heere-upon, she stepped to the Quéene, saying. Madame, you are estéemed one of the most vertuous Princesses in the world, most humbly I desire your coun­cell what I shall doo.

Faire fréend, answered the Queene, according to the reputation Angriote hath gotten among the good, he well deserueth, not only to be aboundant in riches, but to be loued of any Lady he shall chuse.

Why Lady? said Amadis, thinke not that by ac­cident or affection my promise was made to Angriote, for had he compelled me to one of these twaine, then might you well haue condemned me of folly: but ma­king triall of his valour and hardines, yea, to mine owne cost I dare assure ye, and knowing likewise his ear­nest loue to you: me thinks the iustice of the cause com­maunds, that not only my self, but all such as are acquain­ted with him, ought to labour in seeking remedie for you both: in him, the extreame passions he endureth through your loue, in you, by making his restlesse greefes knowen to you.

Now trust me Sir, quoth she, such praise haue I heard of your vsage to euery one, as I imagine you would not say (before such an assembly) otherwise then trueth: wherefore following your councell, as also the pleasure of the King and Queene, I will forget my former stubborne opinion, and am ready to accomplish what you shall com­maund me. Then Amadis taking her by the hand, called Angriote, and presenting him his loue, said: Sir Angriote, I promised to doo my vttermost in this matter, say now, is this the Lady you would haue? Euen she, quoth Angriote, is the life and essence of my soule, and I am deuoted to none but her. Then heere I giue her you, replyed Ama­dis, [Page 152] on this condition, that you shall be foorthwith maryed together, and continue in honorable loue to her as she de­serueth. I thanke you my Lord, quoth he, with all my heart, and will obserue your gentle commaundement. Presently the King called for the Bishop of Saleme, wha [...] conducted them to the Church, where they were espoused in the presence of many great Lords. Afterward they re­turned to the Cittie, and there the wedding was sollem­nized with great ioy and Triumphes: wherefore we may well say, that not men, but God appointeth mariage, who perceiued the honest and continent loue, which Angriote euer-more bare to this selfe-willed Lady. For albeit hée had her in his custodye, neuer did he meane dishonorably against her, but by vertuous cogitations brideled vnlaw­full desire: onely to expresse how intirely he loued her, and by obeying her seuere charge, lost his life wel-néere when he combatted with Amadis.

AFter the end of this mariage, which by diuersitie of opinions caused much talke, as commonly it happe­neth in such cases: the King com­maunded silence againe by his He­rald, when euery one being atten­tiue to heare what he would say, he thus began. My freends, no one of you is ignorant of the heauenly fa­uour [Page] toward me, by appointing me the greatest earthlye Lord, that liueth this day in all the Isles of the Occean: wherfore I thinke it conuenient, that as we in this coun­trey are y^e chéefe, so should we be second to no other prince, in rendring immortall thankes by good & vertuous woorks, wheron we are now minded to determine. In this respect I intreate and commaund, albeit Kinges are the heads of their Monarchies, and you the members: that you would altogether take aduise, and giue me councell euen from your consciences, what you thinke most expedient for me to doo, as well for the benefite of my Subiectes, as also for our estate. And this I assure ye, I am fully minded to be­leeue your opinions, as procéeding from loyall and faithfull subiectes: wherfore againe I desire ye, that without feare, eche one would in particular and generallye aduise, what we ought to doo as matter most commendable. Héere-with he held his peace, and Barsinan Lord of Sansuegua, was in­treated by all the assistantes to speake his opinion, which they did for no other reason, but because the King would haue euery one honor him: wher-upon, after many excu­ses on his owne behalfe, he arose from his seate, and ma­king humble reuerence, thus spake. Séeing it liketh you, I should firste declare my censure, I desire the King and this company to pardon my ignorance, béeing vnwoorthy of this honourable and gracious fauour. But me thinkes (vnder submission to his pleasure, and better aduise of all you my Lords) that we should with-draw our selues a while from the presence of his Maiestie, where we may more fréelye conceiue our seuerall humours. This answere was gene­rally well liked, wherfore the King and Quéene lefte them together, walking into an other of their Pauillions: then Seroloys the Fleming, Countie of Clare, began in this man­ner. You haue all heard my Lordes, the good zeale the King hath to the gouernement, not only of the common wealth in his Realm, but perticularly to the honourable encrease of chiualrie, which he desireth to continue in greater pre­minence [Page 153] then euer it hath béene. And therefore my Lords, humbling my selfe to better opinion, I think it good (to sup­ply the intent of our King) y^t we all ought to councell him, to strengthen him selfe with men and mony: for they are the sinnewes of warre and peace, whereby, all Kings on the earth are maintained in their puissant authoritie. For it is most certaine, that treasure is for Souldiers and men at Armes, by whome Kinges reigne, nor ought it for any cause to be else where dispended, without committing of true sacrilidge: for these affaires are tearmed holye, cau­sing the state to liue in tranquilitie, and win glorious con­questes of such as séeke to inuade them. Beside, to attayne the better héerto, his Maiestie must séeke meanes to get all the good Knightes he can heare of, as well strangers as other: intreating them with liberality, to send his renown on winges through the world, which will fetche from the furthest partes men to his seruice, in hope of condigne re­compence to their labour. By their aid he may easily make him selfe Monarche of all the Princes by East and West, for it hath neuer [...]éen read or heard, that any Prince could make him selfe great, except by the assistaunce of valiant and hardye Knights, hauing bought their valour in braue attempts. I tearm it bought, by fauouring, honouring, and distributing their treasure among them: that they may re­ceiue no occasion of dislike, but with vnconquerable resolu­tion to pursue victorie. As he would haue procéeded in fur­ther perswasion, the greater parte of the Lordes séemed to allowe of his opinion, affirming that better councell could not be giuen: which when Barsinan heard, he requested au­dience for him selfe, and hauing graunt therof, he intended to reuerse this firste aduise, because he might verye hardly else goe forward with his secret purpose: thē silence béeing made Barsinan thus beginnes. It seemeth by your countenaunces my Lordes, that the Countie of Clares o­pinion is a grounded trueth, for I sée the most parte of you auerre the same, not hauing heard any thing to the con­trary [...] [Page] they and you shall remaine contented. Nor are you igno­rant my noble fréends, that the better we be accompany­ed, the more we shall be feared of our enemyes, our state in greater safetie, and your selues more securely de­fended and loued. If then any vertue at all abide in vs, you may easily iudge, how new fréends cannot make vs forgetfull of our old: let none then differ from the request I haue made, but rather yéeld and consent thereto. Againe I intreat ye, and expressely commaund, that eche of you presently name such to me as you knowe, happily they be­ing yet vnknowen to me: to the end if any be in this Court, they may receiue such fauour of vs, as the absent may be the better affected to our seruice, likewise we intreate them, not to depart our company, without giuing vs some aduertisement. All which was presently done, many open­ly called, and their names set downe: but because the tables were couered for dinner, the King arose from his chaire, with-drawing himselfe into the appointed Hall, where many Tables were prouided, which he commaun­ded to be well furnished with Knights. You may easily coniecture, that during the seruice, they diuersly communed together, some, on the Kings deliberation, and other, of his magnificence, vntill the Tables were with-drawen a­gaine: when the King caused them all to be called, and thus spake. You see my good fréends, how earnestly I loue and desire your company, wherefore you must graunt me one request, not to depart this Court without my leaue: for I would particulerly knowe the seruice you haue doone me, and you taste such reward of my treasure, as may con­tinue your loue to me. Héereupon they were seuerally cal­led by name againe, and euery one confirmed the Kings re­quest, except Amadis, because he was the Quéens Knight: and all this while was she present at these matters, wher­fore after the noise was somewhat appeased, she framed her speeches to the King in this manner. My Lord, séeing it hath pleased you so to fauour and honor your Knights, [Page 155] me thinks it were reasonable that I should doo the like to the Ladyes and Gentlewomen, of what part soeuer they be. Wherefore I humbly desire one boone, with assurance likewise if you consent, these Gentlemen after you shall not deny me: considering that in semblable company, good things deserue to be demaunded and graunted. Then the King looked on all the assistants, saying: What answere (my fréends) shall we make the Queene? shall we agrée to her demaund? Yea Sir, if it be your pleasure, answered they. What? said Galaor, were it possible to deny a Prin­cesse so vertuous? Séeing you are all so well content, quoth the King, she shall obtaine what-so-euer she asketh. At these words the Quéene arose, and thanking her Lord, said, Seeing it pleaseth you to giue place and fauour to my request, I desire hencefoorth you would doo such honor to Ladyes and Gentlewomen, as to take them into your protection and defence: maintayning their quarrels a­gainst all such, as would mollest them any manner of way. Beside, if you haue made promise of some sute to a man, and the like to any Lady or Gentlewoman: you first shall accomplish the womans request, as being the wea­kest person, and who hath most néede to be holpen. This graunted, héereafter they shall be better fauoured and de­fended then euer they were: for villaynes that are wunt to doo them iniurie, méeting them in the féelds, and kno­wing they haue such Knights as you are for their protec­tours, dare no way wrong them. In sooth Madame, said the King, your request is reasonable, and I thinke none will gainesay it: we will haue it therefore registred and set downe as a lawe inuiolable.

MEane while this honourable com­panye thus continued, frée from all danger and mishap, thinking on no­thing but pleasure and delightes: there entred a Damosell clad in mourning, who falling on her knées before the King, thus spake. My Lord, eche one is merrye but my poore selfe, who am so crossed with gréefe and sorrow, as death were the best fréend could come to me: yet would your Maiestie take compassion on me, I easily might recouer my ioy againe. These woordes were dipte in such aboundance of teares, as the King beeing mo­ued ther-with to pittie, thus answered. Lady, I would be very glad to releeue your sadnes, but tell me who is the cause therof? Dread Lord, quoth she, my father and vncle are detained prisoners, by a Lady who hath vowed neuer to release them, vntill they deliuer her two so good knights as one was whome they killed in fight. On what occasion did they kill him? saide the King. Because he vaunted, re­plyed the Damosell, that he alone would combate with them, and so proud he grew in spéeches, as at length he de­fied them. Not long after, they méeting one day together, the Knight vsed such reproouing tearmes of cowardise, as my Father and Uncle could not endure the iniurie: but falling to the combate, the Knight was slaine in the pre­sence of a Lady, named Galdenda, who as she saide, pro­cured his comming to maintaine a difference, which she had with a neighbour of hers, beeing her great enemy. [Page 156] Wherefore seeing him dead, she caused the conquerours to be taken, and put them into the most miserable prison in the world: albeit my Father and Unckle often told her, that they would perfourme for her what the Knight should haue done. But she answered, how she well knewe they were not sufficient for the cause, and therefore should ne­uer be releassed, vntill they deliuered her two Knights of like account, each of them valuing him in strength whome they had slaine, to finish the attempt himselfe was able to doo. Knowe you not Damosell, said the King, against whome they should combate, or the place where it is ap­pointed? No truely Sir, answered the Damosell, but I haue séene my Father and Unckle cruelly put in prison, where their freends can compasse no meanes to see them. Héerewith she began againe to weepe, that euery one pit­tyed to behold her, which made the King aske her, if the place were farre off: In fiue dayes my Lord, quoth she, it may easily be gone and returned. Now trust me, said the King, you shall not want your ioy for two Knights, wher­fore looke among all these gallants, and chuse such as you best fancie. My Lord, replyed the Damosell, I am a stran­ger, and knowe not any one in this Court: but if you please, I will intreat the Quéene to doo me so much grace, as to appoint me twaine after her owne minde. Doo so, said the King, if you thinke good: then came the Damosell, and falling at the Queenes feete, proceeded thus. Madame, you are said to be one of the wisest and most vertuous Dames in the world, you vnderstand the cause of my mourning, and the gracious offer the King hath made me: most humbly I beseech ye then, for the honor of God, to take compassion on a poore Gentlewoman, and councell me which two Knights I shall chuse, that are best able to sup­ply my want. Beleeue me Damosell, answered the Queen, you demaund a matter of great importance, yet in such sort doo I pittie your cause, as I am the more willing to giue you aduise: albeit I would be loth to forgoe them [Page] twaine, whom I could name in this companye. Then she shewed her Amadis, saying: This is my Knight. And poynting to Galaor, saide. This other is the Kings, yet be they bothe bretheren, and the best Knightes (as I haue heard) this day liuing. I desire your Maiestie, quoth the Damosell, to tell me their names. The one, saide the Queene, is called Amadis, and the other Galaor. But by your fauour, replyed the Damosell, is this Amadis the Knight so much renowmed? I am very certaine Madame, so soone as he and his brother shall ariue where I can bring them, my cause will be sufficiently executed, therfore I de­sire you to obtaine me their company. Héer-upon y^e Quéene called them, saying: I beséeche ye bothe to succour this woman, who standeth in need of your assistaunce. Amadis was some-what flowe in answering, for he cast his eye on the Princesse Oriana, to note if she would like of his depar­ture: and she who likewise pittied the womans cause, let fall her Gloues, which was an appointed signall betweene them, and therby he was certified of her consent, wherfore he thus spake to the Queene. I am at your disposition Madame, to doo what-soeuer you shall commaund me. Goe then, in Gods name, quoth she, and returne againe with all possible spéede, without tarring for any thing that may happen. Héer-to they willingly condiscended, and ta­king leaue of her, Amadis fained he would speake to Ma­bila, when comming néere her and Oriana, he saide to his Goddesse. Madame, well may I say that the fairest Lady in the worlde, sendes me to succour the most woful woman I euer did beholde. Swéete fréend, quoth Oriana, I repent that I gaue you so much libertie, because my minde telleth me, this attempte will proue some-what daungerous to you, which I hope the heauens will power-fully defende. I am perswaded Madame, answered Amadis, that as the wonderfull woorke-man of the worlde hath enriched you with beautye beyonde all other women, he will not suffer you to feele displeasure, by any misfortune happening to [Page 157] me: for being yours as I am, I imagine my selfe so happy, as I think no euill can chaunce vnto me, if I continue in your gracious fauour. If it lay in my power, replyed Oria­na, I would reuoke your licence of departure: but séeing it may not be, I will remaine in prayer for your prosperous successe. So taking leaue of her, he & Galaor went to arme them-selues, then dooing their humble dutie to the King, they rode away in companye with the Damosell. As thus they trauailed, about mid-daye they entred the Forrest, which commonlye was called the vnfortunate Forrest, be­cause neuer any Knight errant entred into it, that could escape without some mischeefe: and so these two bretheren déerely experimented, for such mishap bef [...]ll them, as they verily thought to lose their liues. Stil rode they on without any aduenture, till the Moone began to grace the euening, yet would not the Damsell shew any signe of staye, which made Amadis aske this question: Gentle woman, shall we rest our selues héere a while? Yea mary, quoth she, héer before we shall finde Tentes ready prouided, and people in them who expect your comming: make then a little haste I pray you, because I will goe before to aduertise them. They were very well content ther-with, and so the Dam­sell left them, till soone after they espied the Tentes, where they sawe her among other Ladies and Knightes, who bad them welcome at their arriuall: and béeing alighted from their horsses, they were conducted into a Pauillion, hauing seruantes standing readye to take their Armour, which they had no sooner put off, but was caryed by them into an other roome, where-upon Amadis demaunded why they did so. Because, replyed the Damosell, you must lodge where they haue caryed your Armour. He imagining she saide true, made no further enquirie, but sat downe with his brother on stooles that stood ready for them, attending the houre of supper. Not long had they sitten there, but fiue Knightes well armed entred furiously vpon them, say­ing: Yeelde your selues, else you are slaine. When Amadis [Page] heard and sawe their bad behauiour, he knew right well they were betraied, and starting vp, saide to Galaor. By God brother, we are trecherouslye deceiued. Then finding no remedye but present death, after they had strugled with the Knightes, who easilye might haue taken their liues, Amadis thus spake▪ Ah villaines, you haue vs now at too much aduauntage, deliuer vs our Armes, and this quar­rell shalbe otherwise discided. These woords will little pro­fit ye, answered the Knightes, yéelde your selues our pri­soners, or we will kill ye. So may you doo, saide Galaor, like traitours as you are, and I wil maintaine my woords against two or thrée of you, if you dare deliuer me mine Armes. We need no such proofe, replyed the Knightes, but if you contend in further speeches, you shall deerelye buye them with the losse of your liues. Now trust me, quoth A­madis, we rather will dye, then be prisoners to such vil­laines as you are. Heer-with one of the Knightes went forth, and comming to a Lady, he saide. Madame, they will not yeelde, shall we kill them? Stay a while, quoth she, and if they graunt not my will, deale as you please with them. Then came the Lady (who was meruailous beauti­full) into the Tent, and shewing the countenannce of a ve­ry angry womā, thus spake to Amadis & Galaor: Knights yeeld your selues my prisoners, otherwise you must dye. Brother, answered Galaor, it may be she will pittie vs, let vs yeelde our selues to her. And Madame, quoth he, we beséeche ye deliuer our horsses and Armour, whē if all your seruantes can conquer vs, we wil be content to submit our selues: but if you deny vs this reasonable request, we must estéeme the lesse of you, and they that deale with vs so dis­courtuoslye. I will giue no credence to you at this time, re­plyed the Lady, but would councell ye to yéeld your selues to me. Wherto at length they accorded, séeing they could no way else saue their liues: yet knew she not their names, for the Damosell that conducted them thither, would not tell her, because if her Mistresse vnderstood what they were [Page 158] she knewe they might not escape the death. Wherfore she was content to conceale them, in respect of the offence she should commit, by causing y^e death of two so good Knights, beside, she repented her vnhonorable iourneye, which now she could no way remedie, but only by keping their names vnknowen. They being thus prisoners to the Lady, she en­tred into these spéeches. Knights, you may sée in what e­state I holde ye, and there is no meane but one for deliue­raunce, which I will acquaint ye withall: mary if you doo not fulfill it, in steed of giuing you libertie, I will cause you to be enclosed in such a dolorous prison, as shall be woorsse to you then death it self. Lady, answered Amadis, the mat­ter may be such, that we shall easilye consent therto: and in some sorte againe, we will rather dye then obey you. I know not (quoth the Lady) how you may conceiue therof▪ but I can assure ye, that if you promise me not to forsake the seruice of King Lisuart, and to goe tell him at your de­parture hence, how you doo it by commaundement of Ma­dasima Lady of Gantasi, who enuies his wel-fare, because he kéepeth one in his Courte, that slue the most renowned Knight Dardan: you neuer shal escape this mercilesse cap­tiuitie. Madame, said Galaor, if you doo this, thinking ther­by to offend King Lisuart, you much abuse your selfe: for we are two poore Knights, who haue no other riches then our Armour and horsses, and he hath such store of redoub­ted seruantes, as he will little care whether you imprison vs or no: yet shall it be such a shame to vs, as you can ne­uer imagine y^e like, because we are vnable to doo it. What? quoth she, loue you better to spend your life time in a most miserable prison, thē to forsake the seruice of y^e most disloy­all King liuing? Now trust me Madame, answered Galaor, but, ill beséemes you these bad spéeches: for he is one of the best Princes in the worlde, and against any Knight I will maintaine, that neuer was disloyaltie found in him. In lucklesse time for thée, saide Madasima, hast thou vttered thy loue; wher-with she commaunded their hands to be [Page] bound. That shall I doo, replyed a Knight, and cut off their heads if you please. Héereupon he laid hold on Amadis, who was so offended thereat, as he lifted his fist to giue him a blowe on the eare: but the Knight escaping it, Amadis caught him about the middle, throwing him so violently against the ground, that he thought his heart was broken, for he lay still and mooued not. Now grew the Lady and her Knights into such anger with Amadis, as presently they would haue slaine him, and he had not escaped, but that an auncient Knight stepped before him with his Sword drawen, vsing such threatnings and other beha­uiour, as he caused them all to goe foorth of the Pauillion: yet coulde hee not defende him so well, but Amadis was wounded on the right shoulder, then stepped the auncient Knight to Madasima, with these words. By God Ma­dame, you deale like a very vnreasonable woman, causing your people in your presence to murder two Knights, after they haue yeelded themselues your prisoners. Why Sir? quote she, did you not see their presumptuous boldnes? es­pecially this varlet, who before my face hath so vsed this man, as he is not able to rise againe? Madame, replyed Galaor, we rather chuse to dye, then any other but your selfe shall binde vs: for you by nature are gentle and cur­teous, and we as prisoners will shew obeysaunce to you. Seeing you saya so, answered Madasima, I will binde you my self: heereupon she bound their hands w^t strong cords, and presently taking downe the Tents, they departed thence, Amadis and Galaor béeing set on horsses without Saddles, and led along by two Sergeants: as for Ganda­lin and Galaors Squire, they followed on foote, hauing their hands bound behinde them, in manner as if they had gone to hanging, and thus were they constrained to trauaile all night through the Forrest.

But Amadis was weery of his life, not so much for his hard vsage, in respect he could gouerne himselfe with won­derfull pacience: but for the matter Madasima would en­force [Page 159] them to, the refusall whereof, gaue hope of no better vsage at her hand, but for euer to be depriued of his faire Oriana. And contrarywise, if he consented, he should in like manner be banished from her presence, being compelled to serue King Lisuart no longer: these two extremities trou­bled his thoughts, which the auncient Knight well percei­ued that saued their liues, yet he imagined the cause to pro­ceede from his hurt, and was mooued to pittie him, for the Damosell had told him, that he was one of y^e best Knights in the world.

Héere you must obserue, how the Damosell was the auncient Knights Daughter, and repented her treason in deceiuing them, séeing how discourteously they were in­treated, which made her earnestly to perswade her father, to practise some meane for their safetie: for, quoth she, if they be put to death, perpetuall shame will attend on my life. Haue pittie then (good father) on them and me, in re­spect the one is famous Amadis of Gaule, and the other his brother Galaor, who slewe the Giant at the Rock of Galte­res. Full well [...]new the Knight the cause why his Daugh­ter brought them, and therefore pittyed their vsage the more, deuising how he might compasse the meanes to sheeld them from death, which was néere at hand, so comming to Amadis, he thus spake. Be of good chéere Sir Knight, for I hope (by the help of God) ere long to deliuer you from this cruell Lady: and if your wound offend ye, I will perswade her to let you haue some cure. When Amadis heard him speake so freendly, knowing likewise it was the man, who deliuered him from them that would haue slaine him, he thus answered. Father, I haue no wound which greatly annoyeth me, but I haue more cause to complaine of the Damosell, she that brought vs hither by y^e falsest treache­rie in the world. I knowe very well, said the Knight, you haue beene deceiued, and can tell what you are better then you wéene, which makes me the more carefull in séeking your good: therefore I shall giue you profitable councell if [Page] you will accept it. But did the Lady know you, you should dye without any remedy, because nothing might serue else to expiate her wrath: beléeue then what I say, and put it in practise. You are faire, young, and of gallant stature, beside, Madasima hath beene told, how you are one of the best Knights in the world, whereby she conceiueth good o­pinion of you: now must you cunningly close with her, re­questing she would accept you as her husband or perpetu­all freend: for she is a woman not to refuse you, if you can neuer so little dissemble with her. But what you doo, doo quickly, because at y^t place whether we are now going, she intends to send one of her seruāts to King Lisuarts Court, whose errand is only to enquire your names: for she that conducted you hither, (perceiuing you should assuredly dye, if her mistresse knew the names of you both) disguised the matter so with her, as she said she forgot to aske your names: only thus perswading her, that you were two of the very best Knights in the world. The daunger thorow­ly considered, I sweare to you by the faith of a Christian, that I can deuise no better meane for your deliuerance, then this I haue told ye: and shall I say more? if you doo it not, wursse will come to you then you suspect. But A­madis loued the Princesse Oriana so deerely, as he rather de­sired death, then to hazard himselfe in such a composition, whereupon he thus replyed. I thanke you Sir hartely for your great kindnes, but I haue no such authoritie ouer my selfe, as will permit me to procéed so farre: though your Lady her selfe intreated neuer so déeply, yet libertie nor life can perswade me. Alas Sir, answered the Knight, I wunder you will not consider how neere your death is? It is all one to me, quoth Amadis, but if you will deale héerein with my brother, he is a Knight more braue and beauti­full then I am: happily he will consent to follow your de­uise. Presently he left Amadis, and comming to Galaor, de­liuered the whole discourse he did to his brother: which he liking very well, made this reply. Good Father if you [Page 160] could bring it to passe, that the Lady would accept me as her fréend, my companion and I were for euer at your com­maund. Referre the matter to me, quoth the Knight, im­mediatly will I goe to her, & I hope to strike it dead on her behalfe. So departing from Galaor, he went to Madasima, who rode formost, and thus began to break with her. Ma­dame, you carrye two prisoners with you, but you doo not know what they are. Why aske you me such a question? answered Madasima. Because the one of them, quoth the Knight, is esteemed y^e best Knight that euer bare Armes, and the most accomplished in all other good gifts. Is he not then named Amadis? said she, whose death I haue so long desired? No Madame, answered the Knight, I speake of him which rideth next vs, whose youth and beauty had you well regarded, your selfe would say you haue been too out­ragious in iniurie. What though he be your prisoner, it is not for any offence committed againste you, but onlye through the hatred you beare to another: all which you may yet redresse in much better sorte then you began, con­sidering if he conceiued liking of you, you may therby ea­sily induce him to loue, & vnder that cerimonye, draw him to doo what your selfe shall desire. In sooth, replyed Mada­sima, I will assay, to know if he be such a one as you report him to be. Doo Madame, quoth he, and you shall finde him one of the fairest Knightes that euer you behelde.

Héer you must note, that the Knight no sooner left Gala­or when he went to the Lady, but he tooke occasion thus to talke with his brother. You see (my Lord) the estate wherin we are, which requireth some notable dissimulati­on at our handes: I beseech ye therfore moderate your an­ger, because alreadie it endangereth our liues, and for a while follow my direction. By heauen brother, answered Amadis, death had béen very welcome to me: but since you wish me to be gouerned by you, I am content, desiring the conseruation of our honors, which beeing lost, we are vn­worthye to liue. Further they could not proceed, because [Page] Madasima came and interrupted them, when calling him aside, and faire day was displayed on the earth: his beau­tye and good grace so especially contented her, as she be­came surprised with his loue, which she shaddowed vnder demaunding how he fared. Madame, saide Galaor, I fare wursse then you should, were you in my power as I am in yours, for I would doo you what seruice and pleasure pos­sible I could, and you vse the contrarye to me, I hauing giuen no occasion of offence: reason willeth I should ra­ther be your Knight to loue and honor you, then your prisoner thus vnkindely bound as I am. And surely I can­not but meruaile heerat, considering the simple conquest you haue therby: vse then such rigour to vs, as women so diuinely adorned are wunt to doo. Madasima hearing his gentle language, was more and more enflamed with his loue, yet striung to dissemble it, she merily said. Tell me faire Sir, if I chuse you as my fréend, and deliuer you from prison, will you (for my sake) leaue the seruice of King Li­suart, and afterward tel him how you did it by my meanes? With all my hart Lady, answered Galaor, and to perfourm it, you shal haue what oathe you please, both of me and my companyon, for he will doo no more thē I request him. Cre­dit me, quoth Madasima, if before this companye you will promise to obey me, presently you shal enioy your liberty. Beholde me ready, replyed Galaor. Yet is not this enough, answered Madasima, for you shall sweare it in the presence of a Ladye, where I am intended to lodge this night: in meane while you must assure me, not to departe my companye. We will not on my faith Madame, quoth Ga­laor: and calling Amadis, caused him to affirme as much, wher-upon they were vnbound and set at libertie, their Squires likewise as fréendly vsed, and mounting on their owne horsses, rode at their ease as they did before. But Madasima & Galaor still continued their amorous discour­ses, till they arriued at a Castle named Albies, the Lady wherof receiued them very honourably, in respect of great [Page 161] fréendship betweene Madasima and her. Néedlesse were it to tell ye of their good cheere, it could not but be answer­able to the time and company, but after supper Madasima demaunded of Galaor, if he meant to keepe his promise he made her by the way. What else Madame? quoth he, pro­uided, you be so good as your woord to me. Make no doubt ther-of, replyed Madasima: then framing her spéeches to the Lady of the Castell, and also to two Knightes that were her Sonnes, she proceeded in this manner. My good fréends, I pray you hear a couenaunt betwéen me, & these two Gentlemen, because heer-after you maye be my wit­nesses. They are my prisoners, and vnder these conditions I haue released them, that one of them shall continue my freend, and bothe of them forsake the seruice of King Lisu­art, telling him: how for my sake, and in despight of him, they haue doone it. Heer-upon I intreate this fauour at your handes, as to meete me at the Courte of that wret­ched King, on the day they must declare this message, to see how contentedly he will take it: but if they fulfill not their promise, hence-foorth you shall publishe in all places, the heinous offence by them committed, and ten daies I giue them to execute this charge. I am wel pleased, said the La­dy of the Castell, to doo a greater matter for you then this, if they as willinglye consent therto. We praye you, quoth Galaor, not to faile héerin, for we haue promised and will performe it. Receiue then your libertie, answered Madasi­ma, yet must you not departe this night: these woordes she spake, because she intended to seale the bargaine with Galaor. When the time came that summoned them to rest, Amadis was conducted to one chamber, and Galaor to an other, whether soone after Madasima repaired, she beeing young, beautifull, & aduenterously giuen: Galaor likewise, a man forward to such fortunes, when Loue had erected his scaling ladders to the walles, quicklye got possession of the Forte. And so well liked she these amorous skirmi­ges, as afterward she reported in many places, how she [Page] neuer tasted a more pleasant night, and had she not promi­sed him departure, hardly would she haue let him goe so soone, nor did she but in hope of his spéedie returne. Thus was she enclined to voluptuous desire, as without care of her honor, she often fell in this sort. By these meanes esca­ped Amadis & Galaor, vnder the conditions you haue heard, which they hoped to preuent without impeach, as héereaf­ter shall be declared vnto you. All that day they rode, not hindered by any thing, and at night were fréendly entertai­ned in an Hermitage, setting forward the next morning to the Court of King Lisuart.

FOure dayes after Amadis and Ga­laor departed from the Court, the auncient Knight came to the Cittie of London, who left the Crowne and the mantle with the Quéene, as you haue heard: when falling on his knée before the King, he began in this manner. I meruaile my Lord, that in a time of such honor, you weare not y^e Crowne I left with you. And you Madame, quoth he to the Queene, is it possible you should make so slender account, of the sumptuous mantle I gaue you in charge, not deigning as yet to prooue it, or how it will be­come ye? When the King heard his words, knowing they were lost, he sate a good while without any answere, which made the Knight thus begin againe. On my faith I am glad you like them not, for had you pleased to keepe them, you must likewise haue graunted my demaund, and happi­ly [Page 162] it would prooue greater then you expect: otherwise, in falsifying your promise, you might procure the losse of my head. Most humbly therefore I beséeche yée my Lord, to will them be deliuered me againe, because I may tarry no longer héere. Now was the King more offended then before, which made him shortly thus to answere. Knight, what promise I made thee, I intend to keepe, although the Crowne and mantle be both lost, to my no little greef, as well for thy sake, as mine owne. Heere-at the Knight gaue a loud shrieke, saying: Ah wretched and miserable old man, now commes my latest and vnluckie exigent: haue I not long enough endured torments, but now must finish mine age in the cruellest death was euer heard of, hauing by no offence deserued it? While thus he complai­ned, the teares aboundantly trickled downe his white beard, which mooued the most constant to pitty his greefe, and the King himselfe ouercome with compassion, returned this answere. Feare not (Knight) to speed any thing the wursse for my losse, you must be satisfyed whatsoeuer it cost me, according as I faithfully promised. At these words the Knight would haue kissed his feete, but the King re­strained him, saying: Demaund what thou wilt, for thou shalt haue it. I knowe my Lord, quoth the Knight, you re­member your promise to deliuer my Crowne and mantle, or whatsoeuer I requested for them: God is my witnes, I intended not to desire what now I must needes, by reason I haue no other meane whereby to be deliuered, if I had? I would acquite you of the griefe I know you will endure, graunting me the thing I must of necessitie demaund: but now it may not be otherwise, except you infrindge your faith and loyaltie. Rather will I loose my Kingdome, re­plyed the King, then make a promise and not fulfill it, say boldly therefore thy mind. I thanke your Maiestie, quoth the Knight, there now remaineth nothing, but to haue as­surance from the Lords of your Court, that they seeke not to take from me the gift you must deliuer: otherwise your [Page] promise cannot be perfourmed, or I satisfyed, hauing a re­ward now, and taken from me annon. Great reason, sayd the King, my word shall stand for their warrant. Seeing my Lord, quoth the Knight, Fortune hath so permitted, that you haue lost my mantle and the Crowne, it is im­possible to saue my head, except you giue me Madame Ori­ana your Daughter. Be therefore now aduised, either re­store my Iewels, or giue me her, albeit I loue the one bet­ter then the other: for neuer can I haue so much good by her, as I sustaine harme by your vnhappy losse. Now be­gan all the Lords and Barons to murmure against the Knight, perswading the King to deny his word: but he rather desired death, he was such a good and loyall Prince, and this answere he made them. Be not offended my good fréends, the losse of my Daughter will not be so preiudici­all to me, as the breache of my promise: for if the one bée enuious, the other is iniurious, and to be shunned euery way. The proofe is ready, if subiects finde not their Prince faithfull, and his word inuiolable, what care wil they haue of the loue and fidelitie they owe to him? much better vn­borne then any such blemish: this Knight therefore must haue my Daughter, and I wil deliuer her according to my promise. Héereupon he sent for her, but the Quéene béeing present all this while, little thought the King would so forget his fatherly loue: and when she heard this rigorous sentence pronounced against her Daughter, she good Lady fell at the Kings féete, when wéeping (as a mother for the losse of her child) she said. What will yée doo my Lord? will ye be more inhumane to your owne blood, then the brute Beasts are to their contraryes? Notwithstāding all their brutish quallities, yet be they neuer so vnnaturall, to shew any violence to their young ones. May it then be thought reasonable, vnder shaddow of an accorded promise (with­out knowledge thereof) to commit so great wrong, not only against your selfe impitious father, or me a wofull and vnfortunate mother, but likewise against the whole [Page 163] common weale of this Realme? Alas Sir, let my incessant teares perswade you, to bethinke some other meane for your discharge, and also to content the Knight. Madame, quoth the King, my word is past, I pray you talke no more thereof to me. Thus speaking, the teares streamed downe his cheekes, whereat the Lords were not a little agréeued, and that which most troubled him, was the acclamations of the Ladyes, wherefore the King commaunded them to their chambers. The Quéene séeing she might not pre­uayle, fell in a swoune, but by her Ladyes she was con­uayed thence, the King giuing charge on payne of death, that no one should seeke to alter his promise. My Daugh­ter, quoth he, I commit to the pleasure of God, but my promise shall not be broken if I can helpe it.

By this time the newes came to Oriana, how her Fa­ther had consented to her departure, wherat she fell downe in such a traunce, as they neuer expected life in her againe: when Mabila and the Ladyes reputing her dead indéed, thought best to acquainte the King ther-with, yet by for­ced remedies shée reuiued againe, breathing foorth ma­nye dollorous sighes. Now the most of the women seue­red them-selues, some néere, and some further from her, be­cause she should not heare their complaining: and such com­passion tooke they on her, as would haue conuerted a sto­ny hart into teares, especially, when the Princesse recoue­red the power of speeche, and faintely vttered these regrets. Full well, quoth she, doo I now beholde mine owne ruine. Ah swéete fréend, wert thou heere, easily wouldst thou de­liuer me from this paine: but thus much my hart fore-told me, euen at the very hower of thy departure. Ah curssed be that hower, because I consented to it. When thou shalt heare of these tidinges, I feare (béeing vnable to endure them) thou wilt dye immediatly: yet this is the best hope, we shall not be long one after another. Ah death, the only refuge to the vnfortunate, séest thou not mee formost in this ranke? why stayest thou? Fortune will triumphe ouer [Page] thée, in dealing so extreamely as she can with me, albeit I know thou art able to reuenge thy selfe: make haste ther­fore, and let her not get such preeminence on me, in de­spight (as it were) of thy authoritie. Adiew then swéete fréend, for neuer shall we sée eche other more in this life: at these woordes she fell in a swoune againe. When the King sawe she tarryed so long, he sent to commaund her make more speed: but the messenger found her in the deadlye a­gonye, and staying till she was recouered againe, as she be­gan to renew her mones, he thus spake to her. Madame, the King is offended because you come not to him. When she heard this message, she arose, hauing her hart so sealed vp with griefe, as it séemed to enable her vitall forces, and being followed by none of her women, but the Damosell of Denmarke, she came before the King, and casting her selfe at his feete, said. My Lord and Father, what is your plea­sure with me? Faire daughter, quoth he, I must accom­plishe my promise. These speeches prouoked her former paines, when the King greeuing to beholde the sight ther­of, turned his head aside, saying to the Knight. Sée my fréend, héere is the gifte you demaund, and the only thing in the worlde I moste loue: but intend you to carrye her hence alone? My Lord, saide the Knight, she shall be ac­companyed with the two Gentlemen and their Squires, which were in my companye when you made me this pro­mise at Windsore: and more may I not allow, vntill he haue her, to whome I am constrained to deliuer her. Yet let her haue the company of this Damosell, said the King, for it were vnséemely, she should be alone among so many men. Well, quoth the Knight, for one woman it matters not. So taking the Princesse in his armes, she béeing scant reuiued from her swoune, he set her vp on horsse-back, and caused a Squire to sit behinde her on the horsse, who might holde her fast least she should fall: and very sad coun [...]e­naunce shewed the Knight, saying there was none in the Courte more sorrwofull then him selfe. After the Da­mosell [Page 164] of Denmarke was mounted, the King intreated her not to leaue his daughter what-soeuer happened, & while they were thus preparing, the Princesse looking wofully a­bout her: a tall Knight well armed came among thē, who not taking off his helmet, or saluting the companye, tooke Orianaes horsse by the bridle. This was Arcalaus the en­chaunter, and came in this sort least he should be knowen: soone after he commaunded the Squire to ride away with her, which the Princesse perceiuing, and séeing there was no other remeeye, deliuering a sigh as if her hart would haue split, she saide. Ah my deer fréend, in a haplesse hower for you was the boone graunted, because it will be bothe your death and mine. Heerin she meant Amadis, whome she gaue leaue to departe with the Damosell, yet the stan­ders by vnderstood it of her Father and her selfe.

Thus departed Oriana with them that conducted her, who rode apace till they were entred the Forrest néere at hand: and the King himselfe was mounted on horsseback, to conduct his Daughter somewhat on the way, as also to forbid any reskewe from following, according to his former promise. But the Princesse Mabila standing at a window, to see this sad and pensiue seperation, could come no néerer to Oriana, her heart was so surprized with gréefe: yet by hap she espyed Dardan the Dwarffe that serued Amadis, making spéede after the Princesse on horsseback, when cal­ling him to her, she said. Dardan, if thou loue thy maister, stay not any where till thou acquaint him with this mis­hap: if now thou faile him, it may returne to thine owne daunger, for this is the time of greatest necessitie. By God Madame, answered the Dwarffe, I will with all diligence perfourme my dutie. So giuing the spurres to his horsse, he gallopped the same way his Maister rode with y^e Damsell.

But leaue we him posting, and tell what now happened to King Lisuart, who accompanyed his Daughter to the entrance of the Forrest, causing all such to returne as fol­lowed him. Euen in the hower of this trouble, a Damosell [Page] came to him mounted on a swift Palfray, with a Swoord hanging about her neck, and a Launce richly painted, ha­uing the point gilded ouer: after she had saluted him, she thus spake. My Lord, God encrease your ioy, & make you willing to perfourme what you promised me at Wind­sore, in the presence of all your worthy Knights. At these words the King knewe her, remembring it was she that said: how she would prooue the vertue of his heart, where­vpon he thus answered. In good faith Damosell, I haue now more néede of ioy then euer I had: notwithstanding, I am readie to accomplish any thing I promised you. It is the only thing my Lord, quoth she, of my returne to you, beeing the moste loyall King in the worlde, wherefore humbly I intreat ye, presently to reuenge my cause on a Knight that passed through this Forrest, who not long since slew my Father, by the most horrible treason that e­uer was heard of: yet not content therewith, the villaine violently tooke me away, and perforce made me yeeld to his vnlawfull will. But in such sort is he enchaunted, as he can not be done to death, except the most vertuous man in the Realme of great Brittayne, giue him a wound with this Launce, and an other with this Sword: both which he gaue in keeping to a Lady, of whome he had good hope to be loued, yet therein he was deceiued, for she hateth him aboue all other, for which cause she gaue me this Swoord and Launce, whereby we might both be reuenged on him. Nor can it be done but by you only, who are the cheefe and most vertuous man in this Countrey: where­fore as you promised me before so many valiant men, may it please ye to execute this iust action of vengeance. And because I haue often told him, that by this day I would be prouided of a Knight to combate with him, he is come a­lone into this Forrest, attending only for my Champion. It is likewise ordered, how you must haue no company but my selfe, for he little thinketh that I haue the Sword and Launce so hurtfull to him: and this is our agréement [Page 165] together, if he remaine conquerour, I must pardon him mine iniurie, but if he be vanquished, he must doo what I commaund him. Presently the King sent a Gentleman for his Armour, which when he had put on, he mounted on a braue Courser, girding the Damosels Sword about him, leauing his owne that was one of the best in the world: then without any other company, he rode on with her, she carying his helmet. Not farre had they ridden, but she cau­sed him to forsake the high beaten way, conducting him by a little path among the shrubs, where not long before they had past that led away Oriana: then the Damosell shewed him a huge Knight armed, mounted on a black Courser, whereupon she sayd. My Lord, take your helmet, for this is hée you must deale withall: which the King quick­ly did, and approching néere the Knight, sayde. Proud Traytour, defende thy selfe, and thy lawlesse lust. So coutching their Launces, they encountred together, when y^e King perceiued how his paynted Launce brake like a stalke of hempe▪ hauing no strength at all in it: which made him drawe his Swoord to charge the Knight, but at the first stroke, the blade broke close to the hilt, where­by hée imagined him-selfe betrayed, for the Knight did what hée pleased to him. But as hée would haue killed his Horsse, the King béeing quick and nimble, caught holde by his gorget, and in such sort they strugled toge­ther, as they bothe fell to the ground, the Knight vn­dernethe, and the King vppon him, by meanes where­of, he got his Swoord from him, and vnlacing his Hel­met to smite off his head, the Damosell cryed out so loude as shée coulde: Sir Arcalaus, helpe your Cozin quicklye, or else hée dyes. When the King heard her name Arcalaus, hée looked vp, and sawe tenne braue Knightes come running to him, the one of them vsing these woords: King Lisuart, spare the Knight, otherwise thou shalt not reigne one hower. If I dye, answered the King, so shall you all for me, like traytours as you are. [Page] Then one of them gaue him such a blowe with his Launce, as not only sore hurt him, but made him fall on his face to the ground: yet did he recouer himselfe very quickly, like one resolued to defend his life, albeit he sawe death present before his eyes. But béeing vnable to resist so many, at length they got sure hold on him, when renting off his hel­met and his Shéeld, they bound him fast with a double chayne. Afterward they set him on a simple horsse, two Knights still holding the ends of the chayne, and so leading him along, sought where they might finde Arcalaus, Oria­na, and the Damosell of Denmarke: but the Knight a­gainst whome the King first fought, rode before apace, and wauing his gauntlet aloft to Arcalaus, said: Behold Co­zin, King Lisuart is ours. A very good prize, answered Ar­calaus, hence-foorth shall his enemyes haue no cause to dread him. Uillaine, quoth the King, well knowe I thou wast neuer other then a traytour, and though I am woun­ded, yet will I maintayne my woords if thou darest com­bate with me. By God, sayd Arcalaus, neuer should I make reckoning of my selfe, to vanquish such a Lord as thou art. Thus contending as they rode, they came to a double way, where Arcalaus stayed, thus speaking to his Page. Sirra, ride with all spéede to London, and say to Lord Barsinan, that he must execute what I willed him, for I haue begun indifferently, if he can make an end as well. Gone is the Page toward the Cittie, in meane while Arcalaus deuised, to send the King one way, and Ori­ana another, wherefore he sayd to his Cozin. Take ten Knights with you, and conduct Lisuart to my prisons at Daguanel: these other foure shall kéepe me company, for I will leade Oriana to mount Aldin, where I will shewe her straunge and woonderfull things. This mount Aldin was the place of his most vsuall aboad, beeing one of the strongest and fayrest in the world: thus the ten Knightes caryed away the King, and Arcalaus with the rest had charge of the Princesse. But certaynely, if héere we con­sider [Page 166] the properties of Fortune, we may easily repute her as mutable, or rather more, toward great Princes and Lords, then the meaner sort: as well she witnessed by King Lisuart, euen in the time when he intended most ho­norably, to be thwarted with such a contrary chaunce. For at one instant, he sawe himselfe in the hands of his greatest enemyes, his Daughter (and heyre to his King­dome) taken from him, and all his estate in daunger of ruyne. He that was woont to bée honored of all, was now iniuriously despised, bound, and led as a théefe, by a vil­lainous Enchaunter, a meane Gentleman, and out of any other hope then death. Is not this then a faire example for such, as at this daye are called to the grea­test honors in the world? wherewith oftentimes they are so blinded, that they forget both God and themselues. King Lisuart was a right good, vertuous, and wise Prince, yet the diuine ordenaunce suffered him to fall in these dangers: to the end he might remember, how all crea­tures remayne at his heauenly disposition. This lesson he taught him, for in short time he was brought so lowe as might bée, and afterward restored againe, as you shall presently vnderstand.

WE haue before declared, by what meanes Amadis and Galaor escaped from Madasima the Lady of Ganta­si, who would haue put them to death if she had known their names likewise how they tooke their waye toward London, as men right ioy­full of their good successe. But by the way, they met Dardan the Dwarff so fast as horsse could gallop, wher-upon Amadis thus spake to Galaor. Brother, me thinkes my seruant Dardan commeth toward vs, and doubtlesse about some matter of importaunce, for doo you not sée what speede he maketh? By this time Dardan brake off their talke, rehearsing eue­ry thing that happened since their departure: but when he tolde, how the Princesse Oriana was caryed from y^e Court against her wil, & what sorrowful lamentations she made: Amadis entred into a dispairing fury, demaunding which way they went that had her in charge. In sooth my Lord, answered Dardan, they rode thorowe the Forrest, which lyeth on the other side of the Cittie. Without more woords Amadis gaue the spurres to his horsse, galloping amaine toward London, so confounded with the terrour of these newes, as he could not speak to his brother Galaor, who left him not but followed at hand. Through y^t Cittie they ride not making any stay, enquiring which way they took that led away the Princesse, and euery one shewed it him verye readily. As Gandalin came posting after his Lord, it was his hap to passe by the Quéens lodging, where she standing [Page 167] at a window ouer-come with gréef: espied Gandalin, whom she called to her, and asked where he had left his Maister. Madame, quoth he, he is gone after them that haue away the Princesse. Stay a little I pray thee, saide the Quéene: then sent she for the Kinges swoord, which was accounted one of the best in the worlde, saying. I desire thee carry this swoord to Amadis, and tell him the King for-sooke it this morning, he beeing gone with a Damosell to combate for her, and she hath giuen him another swoord: as yet we heare no tidinges of him, either when he will returne, or whether he is gone. Gandalin hauing receiued the swoord, set away with speede after his maister, whose impacience vrging him to more haste then care of his iourney, made him ride so farre into a foule sloughe, as he was faine to alight ere he could get foorth again. And leading his horsse by the bridle to escape the mire, Galaor and Gandalin ouer­tooke him, acquainting him with the Queenes message, and deliuering the Swoord she sent him. When he heard how the King was likewise gon, his desire of speed encrea­sed to giue him succour, but his horsse was so wearied with striuing in the bogge, as he was constrained to take Gandalins: which trauailed much wursse then his own, yet with the helpe of his spurres he made him goe. At length they found the tract of horsses, and by good hap met with certaine poore labouring men, whom they asked if they met not any by the way. Yes my Lord, quoth one of them we met certaine men leading a Knight & two Ladies, al­beit we durst not shew our selues, but kept vs hidden in the thickest of y^e wood, for doubtlesse they be some bad peo­ple: heer to they added such a discription of the prisoners, as they easilye gathered them to be the King and Oriana betraied. But tell me good freendes, saide Amadis, know you none of the other? For the prisoners are the King and his daughter. In sooth, replyed the poore man, we are al­together ignorant what they are, yet we heard one that led the horsse of the fayrer Lady, often times name Arca­laus. [Page] Now trust me, quoth Amadis to his brother, it is the villain which enchaunted me: Oh that it might be my hap to finde him. Gentlemen, saide the man, ten of them went this way on the right hand with the knight prisoner, and fiue more this way on the left hand with the Ladies. Brother, quoth Amadis to Galaor, I beseeche ye to follow the King, least wursse befall him then we can remedie, and I will after the Princesse Oriana. So shaking handes in e­quall resolution, they parted the seuerall wayes: but A­madis found his horsse so ouer-laboured, as he was able to holde out no longer. Being thus hindered, by chaunce he looked aside, and sawe where a Knight lay slaine, with a Squire standing by holding his horsse: wher-upon Amadis stepped to him, demaunding who committed that murder. A traitour hath doone it, answered the Squire, who is not yet gon very farre, and leadeth with him the fairest Lady in y^e worlde: no other reason had he for my maisters death but because he asked what the Lady was. What wilt thou doo, said Amadis, tarrying heer? I stay sir, quoth he, til some one come, who may helpe me with my maisters bodye to some buriall, and afterward I intend to séeke my fortune. If thou answered Amadis, wilt giue me the horsse thou hol­dest, I will leaue thee mine, and my Squire to helpe thee, and one day will giue thee two better beside. The Squire, was content, when Amadis mounting on the horsse, com­maunded Gandalin to helpe him burye his maisters bodye, and afterward to follow him the same way he rode.

Thus Amadis hyes so fast as horsse can run, and espy­ing an Hermitage, went to sée if any body were within: at his call, the Hermit came foorth, of whome he asked, if he saw not fiue Knightes passe by leading two Ladies. No ve­rily, answered the olde father: but doo you not enquire for a Castell, which is not farre from this place? Why aske ye such a question? quoth Amadis. Because a Nephewe of mine tolde me, saide the Hermit, how Arcalaus the en­chaunter is going thither, & two Ladyes with him, whom [Page 168] he carieth perforce. Ah father, replyed Amadis, you name the traitour I looke for. Trust me Sir, quoth the Hermit, he hath doone many mischéefes in this country, would God we were either rid of him, or his life amended: but haue you no body to help you? No-body, but God and my self, answe­red Amadis. Why Sir? said the Hermit, you tell me they be fiue in companye, and you but one, beside, Arcalaus is counted one of the best Knightes in the worlde, and with whome fewe or none dare meddle. What-soeuer he be, quoth Amadis, I am certaine he is a disloyall traitour, and they no lesse that keep him company: what lesse cause then haue I to feare him? for God is iust, in whome is onlye my confidence. I pray you Sir, replyed the Hermit, know you of whence the Ladies be? One of them, said Amadis, is the Princesse Oriana, daughter and heire to the vertuous King Lisuart: the other is a Lady attending on her. The God of heauen, answered the Hermit, further your intent, that so good a Princesse may not be long in such a wretches custo­dye. If you haue any prouender father, quoth Amadis, I desire you giue my horsse a little. The Hermit brought foorth such as he had, and while the horsse fed, Amadis de­maunded to whom the Castell belonged. To a Knight cal­led Grumen, saide the Hermite, Cozin germaine to proud Dardan, who was slaine at the Courte of King Lisuart, which makes me the rather coniecture, that he will lodge such as are enemies to so good a Prince. Good father, re­plyed Amadis, I beséeche you haue minde of me in your prayers, and now shew me the neerest way to the Castell. Which the Hermit did, when Amadis mounting on horsse-back, tooke his leaue, following the way he was di­rected. Not long after, he got a sight of the Castell, which was compassed with strong Towers and high walles, wherfore so closely as he could he approched néere it, where he heard what ioy they made for the arriuall of Arcalaus, when marking how many gates of issue it had, he found there was no more but one, wherfore tying his horsse [Page] where he might not be séen, he hid himselfe so cōueniently, as none could passe in and out but he must needs see them, thus was he glad to watche there all this night. At the breake of daye, doubting least the watche of the Castell should descrye him, he entred a little thicket, where long he had not staid, but he saw a Knight come foorth on a lit­tle hill before the Castell, looking all about if he could dis­cerne any ambushe: which doone, he went in againe, and very soone after, Arcalaus with his foure companions issu­ed foorth well armed, conducting the two Ladies, whome Amadis well knew so soone as he sawe them. Héer-upon he fell downe on his knee & praied, that God would streng­then him in this enterprise, then looking to the well guir­ding of his horsse, and y^t euery part of his armour were as it ought to be, taking his Launce, he mounted, tarying till they passed by him. But because this place was vnfit for the combate, he intended to suffer them enter on a playne néere at hand, still keeping him self hid in the thicket: and so néer did Arcalaus with his company passe by Amadis, as he heard the Princesse Oriana thus complaine. Alas sweete fréend, quoth she, great reason haue you to bid me adiew, when I would permit you to goe succour her, that séemed the most wofull woman in the world: for I feare this shall be our latest conge, and neuer may you sée me againe, be­cause death giueth such due attendaunce, as it is impossible for me to escape. These woordes were of such vertue, that albeit Amadis could not refraine from teares, yet did they so liuely enflame his hart, as ouer-reaching them ere they knew any thing, he thus spake to them. You lye false trai­tours, for these Ladyes shall passe no further. The voice of Amadis was quickly knowen by Oriana and the Damosell of Denmarke, when imagining them-selues alreadye re­skewed, their mindes were ioyfully cheered, especiallye to sée their conductours so suddenly amated. But Arcalaus perceiuing how Amadis outraged his fréendes, approched more neere him, and Amadis well knowing him from the [Page 169] rest, met him so brauely, as he sent him head-long to the ground: then entring among the other foure, he gaue such a charge to Grumen, the Lord of the Castel where they lod­ged, that his Launce passed quite through his bodye, and breaking therin, he fell downe dead from his horsse. Now drew he the Swoord the Queene sent him, wher-with he laide so valiantly about him, as his enemies were cleane dismaied in their hope, when they beheld Arcalaus not yet recouered, whose power they reputed able to ouer-throwe an Armie. As he continued the combate with them, the Damosell of Denmarke seeing the freendes of Arcalaus fight so timorously, & him selfe lye still as one in a traunce, she saide to Oriana. Madame, beholde how your Amadis honoreth your loue, see you not how he hath vsed Arcalaus and our hoste? in sooth we are alreadye succoured, for these other villaines can holde out no longer. Ah happie Ama­dis, quoth Oriana, the mirrour of all vertue and chiualrye, heauen giue thee grace to finishe our deliueraunce, with victorie ouer these malicious traitours. When the Squire who had the charge of Oriana, as you haue heard, vnder­stood that she named Amadis, he was in such feare, as pre­sently he leaped from y^e horsse saying. By my faith I might full well be reputed a foole, to tarry for such blowes as my companyons haue: and with these woordes he ran away so fast, that he neuer looked behinde if any pursued him. In this time Amadis had dispatched thrée of the Knights, and the fourth misdoubting like lot would fall to him, trusted to his horsse legges for safetie of him selfe: but as Amadis followed him, he heard the Princesse giue a lowde crye, when looking back, he saw that Arcalaus had got her with him on horsse-back, and gallopped away so fast as he could. Héer-upon he let goe the Knight, to helpe Oriana, ouer-ta­king Arcalaus ere he got much ground, and lifting his swoord to strike at him, he doubted least he should hurt the Princesse: but turning on the other side, he gaue him such a wound on the shoulder, as he was glad to let fall Oriana, [Page] that him-self might escape away more lightly: for he knew if Amadis laid holde on him, all the treasure in the world could not saue his life. When Amadis saw him selfe sure of his Lady, he still pursued the cowardlye run-away, saying: Tary Arcalaus, tary, and thou shalt sée if Amadis be dead, according as thou lyedst not long agoe. But Arcalaus had no leysure to answere, he rather tooke his Shéeld from his neck and threwe it to the ground, because nothing might hinder his horsse in running. At length as Amadis strook at him, the blowe fell shorte on the horsse buttocke, and the beast féeling him selfe wounded, made greater haste away then he did before, leauing Amadis very farre behinde, who earnestly desired the death of Arcalaus: but séeing all his labour was in vaine, and doubting least some harme might happen to his mistresse, to loose her againe by negligence, hauing by hardy valour so well recouered her: he turned back againe, and attaining the place where she stayed for him, he alighted from his horsse, then falling on his knée humbly kissed her hand, saying. Madame, heauen hath af­foorded me more grace, in strengthening me to succour you, then euer it did to any other Knight, for I was out of hope to sée you againe. But she good Lady remayned still so passionate, in respect of her vngentle vsage, as also af­frighted with feare when Arcalaus let her fall: that she could returne no answere, but gaue him thankes by many kinde embracinges. By this time, the Damosell of Den­marke came to them, and by the way found the swoord of Arcalaus, which she bringing to Amadis, thus spake. Sée heere (my Lord) a very faire swoord. Right soone did A­madis know it, to be the same was found with him on the Sea, which Arcalaus tooke from him when he laye en­chaunted, béeing not a little glad he had recouered it.

While many affable spéeches passed betwéene them, Amadis still comforting his dismayed mistresse, and shée reioycing in her louely fréend: Gandalin arriued, who had sought his maister all that night, and happily found him [Page 170] there with his Lady. Now minded they to tary no longer in this place, wherefore making choise of the Knights Horsses to their owne liking, they all amounted, Amadis leading Orianaes Palfray by the bridle, and she rehearsing to him by the way, what iniurie the dead Knights had doone her, as in her life-time shée neuer endured the like. Madame, answered Amadis, much greater gréefe haue I suffered by a liuing creature, yet lesse to be feared then the dead, who can doo no harme: but beautie only hath hazar­ded my life. Albeit Oriana well knew his meaning, yet she demaunded who was the cause thereof. Euen you Ma­dame, quoth he, who holde me in a life more yrksome then death. My Lord, sayd the Princesse, neuer with my con­sent did you sustayne any harme, and very sory would I be you should thinke me so vnkind: for rather could I affoord to ease your greefe, were it in my power to compasse the meane. Ah Madame, replyed Amadis, as by you only I tooke my hurt, so from you only must I haue my help, and reason reputes it a matter of great inconuenience, that such rare perfections should cause so rough passions. But if you be endued with such pittie, as the rest of your excel­lencies doo plainly promise, you will not behold that in me, which you greeue to sée in your chéefest enemyes: euen death gentle Princesse, who in my torments awayteth on me, forbearing to strike, béeing conquered with this hope, that did oportunitie and place serue, your passed promise should ease your thoughts, & deliuer me from this weigh­tie oppression. But see how sweet occasion fauoureth vs, and fortune stands aloofe from hindering our content: doo not you then (good Madame) let slip this gracious offer, when time and place challenge it at your hand, considering the argument is vrgent, and being now loytered, may hardly be againe so well recouered. Oriana (not so much for these reasons, as because her payne was equall with his, and had not he begun the motion, her selfe would haue sollicited the same) thus answered. Great is the force of [Page] your perswasions, but greater the vnfained loue I beare you, which hath such authoritie ouer me: as when you shall haue least occasion to demaund, I am content and constrained to obey, yea, to repose such a thing in your trust, as very hardly can I hold fast in my thoughts. Yet I desire you, albeit you sée me not stored with prouidence, that you will carefully manage our enterprise, by warie kéeping it from knowledge or suspect: rather submitting our selues to the highest displeasure, then common reproofe, which is containd within no limits. Sufficient protestati­ons made Amadis héereof, but little batterie néeded when the hold was woon, and riding through a very thick wood, the Princesse became desirous of sleepe, because the night before she enioyed no rest: whereupon she acquainted A­madis therewith, saying, she must néeds sleepe ere she went any further. He being no vnprofitable counceller, and sée­ing a daintie plot by a riuer side, shaddowed with boughes from the heate of the Sunne: aduised her to rest there a­while, and dismounting from their horsses, he thus spake. So please you Madame, in this place we may stay till the heate be gone, and you rest in tarying for the cold euening: in meane space I will send Gandalin to the Towne, to bring some viaunds to refresh vs withall. Your reason is good, said Oriana, but how shall he come by meat? He shall leaue his horsse in pawne, answered Amadis, and returne on foote. Yet I (quoth Oriana) haue a better helpe then that: he shall sell this King, which can doo vs no better seruice then now in our néed. So pulling the King from her finger, she gaue it to Gandalin, who taking his leaue, as he came by his Maister, said: So good time lost, will neuer be had againe. Amadis knew his meaning well enough, yet made he no shewe thereof, but vnarmed himselfe, and Oriana spreading the Damosels mantle on the grasse, layd her downe vpon it: the Damosell likewise went aside into the wood, where she fell soundly a-sléep, by reason she wat­ched all the night before. Thus remained Amadis alone [Page 171] with his mistresse, so glad of her gentle graunt, and the fa­uourable hower at hand: as he could not withdrawe his eyes from their comfort, which made him delay time in needlesse gazing. In the end, though his hands had béene slowe in vnarming him, all his other members were in better state, for not one of them but did his dutie. The hart was rauished in thoughts, the eye, in contemplation of excellent beautie, the mouth, with swéete kisses, the armes, with kinde embracings: and no one mal content in any point, except the eyes, which wished themselues in number like the starres in heauen, for their better habilitie in function, thinking they could not sufficiently behold so diuine an obiect. In great paine were they likewise, be­cause they were hindered from the pride of beautie, for the Princesse held her eyes closed, as well to disguise her desire of sléepe, as also for the discréet shame conceiued by this pleasure, so that she durst not boldly looke on him she most loued. Héere-upon, carelesly spreading her armes abroad, as though she slept in déed, and by reason of the exceeding heat, leauing her gorget open, two little alablaster bowles liuely shewed them-selues in her bosome, so faire & sweetly respiring, as Nature neuer shewed more curious worke­manship. Now Amadis forgetting his former bashfulnes, seeing Fortune allowed him so queint a fauour, let loose the reynes of amourous desire with such aduantage, as not­withstanding some weake resistance of the Princesse, she was enforced to prooue the good and bad together, which maketh freendly maydens become faire women. Daintie was the good grace and subtiltie of Oriana, in shaddowing her surpassing pleasure, with a delicate and femenine com­plaint of Amadis boldnes, shewing in countenance such a gracious choller and contented displeasure: as in stead of consuming time in excuses, Amadis re-saluted her with sundry sweete kisses, as also an other cause to chide if she would. But she being lothe to mixe angry speeches with amiable sollace, or with frowning looks to crosse an equall [Page] [...] [Page 171] [...] [Page] content, thought it better to commend the controle of so kind a louer, and therefore continued this pleasing recrea­tion, as nether partie receiued occasion of mislike: rather with kisses (which are counted the seales of loue) they chose to confirme their vnanimitie, then otherwise to of­fend a resolued pacience. Ah, how many repetitions made Oriana, of the paines she suffered in expectation of this day? confessing those priuate particularities, which none but she and her desire were acquainted withall. How many mat­ters likewise alleadged Amadis, expressing thereby his sin­guler contentment, and credible assurance of his perpetu­all faith? now reckoning all his trauailes well imployed, and more then sufficiently recompenced. In these discour­ses and pleasures they spent most part of the day, caryed so farre from remembrance of any thing else, as they thought not on the time, how day wasted, and night ensued, whe­ther Gandalin were returned, or the Damosell awake, all these things were now cast into obliuion. They imagined to haue viands good store, béeing thus delighted the one with the other, which séemed more delicious to them, then all the Nectar or Ambrosia of Iupiter. Yet at length they remembred them-selues some-what better, when hearing the Damosell and Gandalin so néere them, their pastime en­ded, and taking eche other by the hand, walked among the trées to take the ayre: in the meane while Gandalin and the Damosell spred a cloth on the grasse, and set there-on such victuals as they had. Now though there wanted rich cup-boords of plate, as were in the houses of King Lisuart and Perion, as also the sollemnitie of great seruices: yet the fortunate entertainement at this time, was held by them of higher estimation. During their repast, as they regarded the woods and fountaines, they began to estéeme it no strange matter, why the Gods some-time forsooke the heauens, to dwell in groues and delightfull Forrests. Iupiter they imagined wise, when he followed Europa, Io, and his other fréends. Beside, Apollo had reason to become [Page 172] a Shéep-heard, for the loue of Daphne, and the daughter of Admetus. They béeing willing to imitate their example, wished continuallye to tary there, without returning to the Pallace and royall pompe: reputing the Nimphes of of the woods most happie Goddesses, excelling such as re­mained in the walled Cities. Pittie were it to trouble these louers in their amorous deuises, wherfore we will leaue them, and see what happened to Galaor, following the searche of King Lisuart.

GAlaor parting from his brother A­madis, in such sort as you heard, fol­lowed the way whereby the King was led prisoner, and making great haste, in respect of his earnest desire to ouer-take him, had minde of no­thing else he met by the way. As thus he continued gallopping, he saw a Knight well armed come ri­ding toward him, who meruailing why the Prince vsed such extreame dilligence, when he came neere him, saide. Stay a while Knight, and tell me what affaires cause you make such speede. Forbeare Sir I pray ye, answered Ga­laor, for by my tarying may happen too great an inconue­nience. By God, saide the Knight, you must not so escape, for you shall tell me whether you will or no. I may not trifle the time, quoth Galaor, and so rode on still with­out any tariaunce. Nay Gallant, replyed the Knight, I I will be resolued in my demaund, though to your cost. Heer-upon he posted after Galaor, still exclaiming on him with hard woords, weening he fled away for feare of him, [Page] and often-times he thought to smite him with his launce, but the Prince euer-more escaped his attempte: yet his horsse beeing sore wearied, hindered him very much, when the Knight ouer-taking him, thus spake. Infamous palli­ard, & without hart, of these three thinges chuse the best, ei­ther to combate, returne, or answere my demaund. Now trust me, said Galaor, the easiest of these three is hard to me, wherin you make no shewe of courtesie: for return I may not, and if I combate, it must be against my wil. But if you desire to know the cause of my haste, follow me & you shall sée: for I should tarry too long in telling it, and happily you would scant beleeue me, so horrible and disloyall is the déed which compelleth me to this impacience. Beleeue me, quoth the Knight, & I will follow thee three whole daies, only to see whether thou lyest or no.

Thus Galaor held on his way, and the Knight hasting after, till hauing ridden the space of a mile, when they espied two other Knightes, the one béeing on foote running to catche his horsse, and the other gallopping away so fast as he could. He on foote was Cozin germaine to y^e Knight that followed Galaor, who in iousting with the other Knight, had béen dismounted: and knowing his kinseman, acquainted him with the whole accident, requesting his assistaunce in reuenge of his wrong. It may not be now, answered the other, till I haue followed the Knight you see before, thrée dayes together: héerto he added all the spéeches betwéene Galaor and him. In sooth, replyed his Co­zin, he should seeme (by your woordes) the greatest coward in the worlde, else mindeth he some enterprise of higher consequence: therfore I will adiourne the reuenge of mine iniurie, and beare you company, to the end I may beholde the sum of your attempt. While thus they talked, Galaor had gotten very farre before, which caused them make the more haste after him: till at length the Prince espied the ten Knightes that conducted the King, they riding vp a narrow strayte, fiue before him, and fiue behinde. Now did [Page 173] he fully resolue to dye, or purchase his deliueraunce, for he was so offended to sée the King bound with chaines, as he imagined him selfe able to conquer them all, and as many more if they had béene there, wher-upon he thus cryed to them: Traitours, durst you vnreuerently lay hand on the best King in the worlde? with which woordes he met one of them so directly, as his Launce passing through his bodye, he fell downe dead beside his horsse. When the other foure saw their companion slaine, they willed the formost fiue to guarde the King, for they would reuenge his death suffici­ently: but they found them-selues very much deceiued, for though the Princes horsse, (by reason of his sore trauaile) often s [...]umbled, and therby put him in daunger of falling, yet laide he such loade vpon his enemies, as two more of them accompanyed the firste, and the other twaine were brought into hard extremetie. Then came the other fiue with a fresh charge vpon him, when Galaor perceiuing his owne danger, intended to reuenge his death and the Kinges togeather, entring couragiouslye among the chic­kest, shewing most rare and hautye chiualrie. When the two Cozins that followed him beheld his behauiour, con­founded with meruaile, the one saide to the other. By God we did him wrong to tearme him a coward, for he is the most hardie Knight that euer I sawe: except the worlde shall twit vs with shame, let vs not see him dye in this ex­tremetie, least the beutie of chiualrie be gone for euer. Re­solued thus to succour him, they valiantlye thrust them­selues into the skirmishe, deliuering such freendly blowes on euery side, that Galaor soone felt him selfe well assisted: because his enemies were somewhat more dispearsed, and he had leysure to take a little breathing, but wundering whence this aide should proceed, he fell to woorke againe, giuing them good cause to misdoubt their liues. When the Cozin to Arcalaus sawe how his side decayed, and his Knights dishartened, slaine and sore wounded: he purpo­sed to kill the King: who by this time found the meanes [Page] to vnbinde himselfe, and alighting from his horsse, got one of the slaine Knightes swoordes, wher-with he resisted his enemies brauely. As the Cozin to Arcalaus followed his intent, the King gaue his horsse such a blow ouer the face, as by rearing vp, he fell downe backward, yet the Knight recouered him selfe, and Galaor séeing one fight with the King, came to assist him, when snatching off his Helmet, he would haue smitten his head from his shoulders: but the King would not suffer him, saying, he should liue and dye a theefe. The two Cozins, who were named Don Gui­lan & Ladasin, pursued an other Knight, whome they slewe, & returning backe againe, they knew y^e King, which strooke them into no little meruaile, because they heard nothing of his mis fortune: then alighting from their horsses, they tooke off their helmets & did him reuerence, whē he know­ing them right well, embraced them in his armes, saying. My fréends, you haue succoured me in a néedfull time, for which I may liue to requite you with thankes: yet haue you wronged me by your absence from the Court, and for your loue to eche other I lost you bothe, especiallye, you Lord Guilan, your minde béeing else-where, made you for­get me. These woordes caused a modest blush in Don Gui­lan, because the King disciphered his loue, which was the Duchesse of Bristoya, who was not one iot behinde him in affection: as well witnessed the good entertainement she gaue him, tasting together the fruite of their contentment. Which the Duke so doubted, and daylye conceiued such suspition thereof, as it procured the iniurye was doone to Galaor, when the Dwarffe espied him in the Garden, at his returne from faire Aldena, wherby the Damosell was in daunger of burning, as the historye héer-tofore hath de­clared to you.

But while the King thus communed with Don Guilan, Galaor had gotten the Nephewe of Arcalaus beside his horsse, and tyed the chayne about his necke the King was bound withall: then taking the best horsses belonged to [Page 174] the dead Knightes, they rode toward London. And by the way, Ladasin recounted to the King, how he contended with Galaor for riding so fast, offering him the combate which he refused, because he would delay no time for his succour: which caused the King to requite him with many thanks, that he could so well forbeare in a case of such ne­cessitie. But my Lord, quoth Don [...]uilan, my hap was more hard, for by thinking on her, who often-times makes me forget my selfe, a Knight encountred with me, and by force of his Launce, cast me from my saddle. In sooth, answered the King, I haue heard talke of many louers, and what they enterprise for their Ladyes, yet neuer of any folly comparable to yours: which giueth me good cause to con­iecture, that you were not in vaine named Guilan the pen­siue, for you are y^e greatest muser I euer heard of. As thus they beguiled the time, they ariued at the house of Lad [...]sin, which was not far thence, whether soone after came Gala­ors Squire, and Dardan the Dwarffe, who thought his maister had taken that way. Then did Galaor tell the King, how his brother Amadis was gon to reskew his daughter, and in what manner they heard of their seperation by the poore labourers, wherefore he aduised him to send speedily to London, least his mishap being published in the Cittie, might raise some commotion among the people. Credit me, quoth the King, séeing Amadis vndertooke to followe my daughter, I will not as yet account her lost, if the trai­tour Arcalaus woorke no newe villainie by his enchaunt­ments: but as concerning my happye deliueraunce, I like well that my Quéen should vnderstand therof. Wher-up­on Ladasin called a Squire, whom the King presentlye sent to the Courte as Galaor aduised. After they had well refre­shed themselues, they were conducted to their chambers, and on the morrowe set forward on their iourney, the King communing with the Nephewe of Arcalaus, as concerning the enterprise of his kinseman: which made him reueale the whole determination, and how Barsinan was in hope [Page] to bée King of great Brittayne. Héere-upon the King con­cluded to make the more haste, thinking to finde Barsinan as yet at London, and to punish him for his audacious presumption.

IF you haue well noted the former discourse, you may easily remem­ber, how the poore labouring men, (not knowing the King and Oria­na) séeing how iniuriouslye they were intreated by Arcalaus and his complices, were glad to hide them­selues in the wood: in like manner, how afterward they vnderstood by Amadis and Galaor, that the prisoners were King Lisuarts & his daughters. Where-upon, so soone as the two Knights were parted from them, they hasted to report these newes in London: which caused such a murmuring thorough the Cittie, especially among the Knights, as they presently Armed them-selues, and mounted on horsseback in such troupes, that the féelds were quickly couered with men and horsses. At this time was King Arban of Norgalles talking with the Quéene, little thinking on any such mis­fortune: when one of his Squires bringing his Armour, sayd. My Lord, you tary héere trifling too long, arme your selfe quickly and follow the rest, who by this time haue gotten so farre as the Forrest. What is the matter an­swered King Arban. Ah my Lord, quoth the Squire, newes is brought to the Cittie, how certaine villaines haue caryed the King away prisoner. Prisoner? replyed [Page 175] King Arban, may it be possible? Too true my Lord, an­swered the Squire. When the Quéene heard these vnhap­pie tidings, not able to vnder-goe so great an oppression, she fell downe in a swoune: but King Arban hauing more mind on the King, left her in her Ladyes armes, hasting with all spéed he could to horsseback. When he was set­ting foote in stirrop, he heard the allarme sounded, and the assault which Barsinan gaue to the Castell, whereby hée gathered they were betrayed: wherefore hée caused the Quéenes lodging to bée guarded, and returning to the Cittie, sawe euery one readie in Armes, when choosing so many as he pleased, as also two hundred well approoued Knights, he sent two of the chéefest to the Tower of Lon­don, to vnderstand the cause of the allarme. To them it was reported, how Barsinan had forcibly entred with his trayne, killing and casting ouer the walles all that he met. Héerein he followed the message of the Page from Arca­laus, finding very slender resistance: for most part of the Knights and men of account, were gone to succour the King. Highly displeased was King Arban at these newes, perswading himselfe the King had béene betrayed, where­fore to preuent such other inconueniences as might hap­pen, he dorayned his men in battayle, placing good watch about the Quéenes lodging. And thither Barsinan now pre­pared, hoping to take her as he had done the Tower: but he met with stronger resist then he expected, and the skir­mishes proceeding on either side, Barsinan tooke a prisoner, by whome he was aduertised, how King Arban would withstand him euen to the death. Now began he to deuise, how by faire spéech and falshood he might take the King, crauing a parle with him, whereto King Arban willingly agréed, and silence being made on both sides, Barsinan be­gan in this manner.

I euer thought till now my Lord, that you were one of the best aduised Knightes in the worlde, but by proofe I perceiue a man may finde the contrary: yet this I thinke [Page] withall, that what you doo, is for safetie of your honor. Heerin you appeare of simple iudgement, considering in the end, it will be but the losse of you and your men: in respect King Lisuart your late Lord is dead, for proof wher­of, euen he that slewe him, will ere long send me his head. Sith Fortune then hath dealt so hardly with him, and I at this instant am the greatest Lord in this Countrey: dare you deny to make me King? Alas, you abuse your selfe, the best will be for you, to yeelde your selfe louingly, and I shall intreate you so well as any Prince in my Realme: suffering you still to enioy the Countrey of Nor­galles, and particulerlye beside will so honor you, as you shall haue great reason to be content. Auaunt villaine, an­swered King Arban, full well doost thou manifest thy hor­rible treason: for beside thy trecherye in compacting the death of my Lord, thou wouldest haue me become a tray­tour to his freendes, as thou thy selfe hast prooued. Thou art deceiued, doo the wurst thou canst: thy villainie only will take vengeance on thee according to desert, with such good helpe as we will put therto. What? saide Barsinan, think'st thou to hinder me frō sitting as King in London? Neuer shall traitour, replyed Arban, be King of London, by Gods leaue, while the most honourable King of the world liueth. I called for thee, quoth Barsinan, in respect of thine owne good, because I fauoured thee more then any o­ther, imagining thou wert of sound discretion: but (as I haue saide) I finde my selfe deceiued, wherfore reason re­quireth, that thy ouer-weening should fall, and (in de­spight of thee) I will reign King in great Brittaine. Assure thy selfe, answered Arban, I will kéep thee from such clim­bing, as if the King my Maister were héere personallye present. Then began the assault afresh, King Arban with­drawing him selfe to harden his men, beeing meruailously offended at Barsinans woordes. Now though he were ve­ry sharpely assailed, yet stood he brauelye on his defence, many beeing slaine and sore wounded: neuer-thelesse, he [Page 176] was euer-more formoste in the fight, and last at the re­treit, which was caused by the night ensuing. Nor néede we doubt, considering the puissaunce of Barsinan, and the fewe on the contrary side, but King Arban would take his aduauntage in resistaunce, by compelling them to the nar­rowe stréetes, where foure on a side could hardly deale to­gether, which turned to the great disaduauntage of Barsi­nan, because Arban well fortified euery place in good order, and with freshe supply still encouraged his men.

The retreit being sounded, & either side with-drawen, King Arban séeing his Souldiours sore wearied, by the hot skirmishes they had endured: as is the office of a good Captaine indéed, he came and comforted them in this man­ner. My louing companyons and fréends, this day haue you so woorthily fought, as none of you but deserueth esti­mation, among the most forward men in the world, and hauing begun so well, I hope you will procéede better and better. Remember the cause of your fight, not onely to maintaine your good King, but your owne liberty: against a tirant, a traitour, and what worsse? who would buy his vsurping in this Kingdome, with the blood of you, your wiues and children. Sawe you not how he vsed them he tooke in the Tower? Beholde you not the end of his pur­pose? which is to ruinate this noble Realme, that hath (by diuine prouidence) beene so long time preserued, and euer­more continued in reputation, floorishing with loyall sub­iectes to their Prince? Heard you not the flattering per­swasions, which the Rebell vsed before the assaulte, thin­king to conquer vs by his golden tongue? In vaine is his labour, I am right well assured, that no one of you but wil dye a thousand deathes, before he shall conceiue any other minde in you. I sée by your resolued countenaunces, if I should thinke or say otherwise, I were a monstrous of­fendour: for if he haue more men then we, we haue more hartes of courage then he, which forbiddeth all occasions of dismaying, setting before your eyes, the famous account [Page] you shall liue in héer-after. By their lookes you might dis­cearne at their retire, how vnwilling they will be to trye you againe: and respect not the traiterous woordes of Bar­sinan, our King liueth, and will right spéedily come to suc­cour vs. In meane while I intreat as my fréendly compa­nyons, let nothing dismay your hope, but continue as you gaue begun: with this famous resolution, that it is more honourable to dye for libertie, then to enioy a life by thral­dome and slauerie, vnder a wicked, iniurious, and trayte­rous Prince. When the King had ended his oration, there was no one in the company, how sore hurt soeuer he was, but would couragiouslye encounter Barsinans power, and bid him brauely good morrow the next day in the Tower: where-with the King not a little contented, returned to the Queenes lodging, his face couered with sweat, and his Armour all bloodye, by reason of fiue wounds he receiued in fight. The Ladies seeing him in such pittious plight, were meruaylouslye abashed, especiallye the Queene, who well-neere dead with greefe and feare together, then as a woman in middest of dispaire, she saide: Alas deere Ne­phewe what shall we doo? we are all but dead. Madame, answered King Arban, all will goe well if God be plea­sed, in vaine doo you thus discomfort your selfe, for I hope to heare good tidinges of the King: and the traitours that seeke to vsurpe his Kingdome, by your good and loyall sub­iectes shall receiue deserued punishment. God graunt it, quoth she, but you are so wounded, as I think it impossible for you to be at the battell, if Barsinan come to morrow a­gaine, nor can our men doo any thing without you. Be not you troubled ther-with Madame, replyed King Ar­ban, for while my soule suckes her spirit from the ayre, I will not for-sake my charge. So bidding her good night, he went to haue his woundes dressed, and after-ward tur­ned to his Souldiours, merilye passing the night among them.

Barsinan on the other side, got into the Tower of Lon­don [Page 177] which he had wun, and numbring his men, found that his power was greatly weakened: yet would he make no shew thereof for dismaying the rest, but shewing a dissem­bling countenaunce, thus spake to them. My fréendes, it suffiseth that I haue showen mine enemies what you are, and they (if I thinke good) to stand at my mercie: where­fore I am determined (without any further losse of you) to rest our selues fiue or sixe dayes, till Arcalaus send me the head of King Lisuart, and then the sight thereof, will make them not dare to resist me any longer, but in hope of fauour will yéeld them-selues. Eache of you therefore re­ioyce and be of good chéere, for when I am King, right rich­ly will I reward you all. So went they to rest till the next morning, when Barsinan (being armed) mounted on horsse­back, with twentie Knightes in his companye, and came to a Port which one of King Arbans Knights kept, who seeing this troupe, presently sounded an allarme. But Bar­sinan sent him woord, how he came to parle only, and desi­red truce beside for sixe houres: whereof King Arban was immediatly aduertised, who graunted the truce Barsinan required, and likewise for fiue dayes. Conditionally, that he should offer no violence to any house in the Cittie, or practise any entraunce during the limitted time: beside, if the King returned in that space, the difference should bée left to his disposition. Barsinan was contented with these conditions, because he accounted King Lisuarts death cer­taine, where-upon he said to Arban. I hope this little truce, will be an entrance into a perpetuall peace betwéene vs: for I dare assure yee, King Lisuart is dead, and his Daughter must be my Wife, as within these fiue dayes ensuing you shall euidently sée. What? quoth King Ar­ban, thou hast then put him to death: and couldst thou deale so traiterously with him, that gaue thée such hono­rable entertainement in his Court? rather will I present­ly dye, then continue one hower of peace with thee, get thée gone therefore quickly, or I will send thee hence in pieces. Is it true? quoth Barsinan, well mayst thou threaten [Page] me, but it is in me to make thee repent it. Thus returned he to his Souldiours, acquainting them with his honest offers to King Arban, and the audacious answere he re­turned for them.

NOt long agoe we left Amadis in the wood, familiarly deuising with the Princesse Oriana, thinking on no­thing but their swéete contentati­on: and among other discourse, A­madis intreated her to tel him, what spéeches Arcalaus had with her by the way. On my faith Sir, quoth she, he confounded my senses with perswading me to reioyce, saying: Before fiue dayes were expired, I should reigne as Quéene in great Brittayne, en­ioying Barsinan to my husband: him-selfe likewise should be chéef gouernour, and maister of his house, in recompence of the seruices he did for him, in giuing him my fathers head, and me to be his wife. Ah heauens, said Amadis, what treason is this in Barsinan, who shewed him-selfe such a fréend to the King? God shield he doo no wrong to the Quéene. In sooth I greatly doubt it, replyed Oriana, it were good therefore we hasted to sée. With all my heart, quoth Amadis: so mounting on horsseback, they rode to­ward London, méeting many Knights by the way that followed the King, whome still he directed in their course, certifying them that Galaor was gone likewise in his search. Within a while after, Oriana espyed Don Grume­dan an auncient Knight of honor to the Quéen, and twen­tie Knights more with him, who all that night had sear­ched [Page 178] the Forrest for the King: but when he sawe her, the teares stood in his eyes with ioy, desiring to heare some newes of the King her father. Credit me Sir, quoth she, not farre from the Cittie were we sundered, when God ordained so well for me, that Amadis deliuered me from the villaines, and ransomed me with the price of their liues. They were vnwise to resist, said Grumedan, when you had so good a champion: but I pray you my Lord, what is become of your brother? Euen in the same place, answered Amadis, where they seperated the father from the daughter: we seuered our selues, he posting after the King, and I followed Arcalaus, who led away Madame O­riana. The better hope haue I of his succour, quoth Gru­medan, seeing so good a Knight hath taken it in hand. Héere­vpon, Amadis told him the horrible treason of Arcalaus and Barsinan: Let me therefore intreat ye, quoth he, to conduct the Princesse leasurably after, while I make hast before least the Queene be distressed, because I doubt the traitour will offer her iniurie. I thinke it likewise expedient, that you cause all the Knights to returne you meete withall: for if the King should be reskewed by multitude of men, there is enow before alreadie, and more then néedes. So leauing his Lady with Don Grumedan, he made all the haste he could toward London, ouertaking the Squire by the way that came from the King, who told him all the newes of his deliuerance, which was no little ioy to Ama­dis, hearing the fortunate successe of his brother Galaor. There met he with an other likewise, who made report of Barsinans dealings at London, wherefore entring y^e Cittie so couertly as he might, the first he met withall was King Arban, of whome he was louingly embraced and welcom­med, with request of what newes he brought. None but good, answered Amadis, and such as you are desirous to heare: but because I doubt the Queene is scant mery, let vs goe sée her, for happily she will be glad of our comming. So rode they to the Court together, Amadis still kéeping [Page] the Squire with him that came from the King, and when they entred the Quéenes presence, Amadis falling on his knée, began in this manner. Madame, this Gentleman left the King well this morning, and at libertie, whereof his Maiestie certifieth you by him: my selfe likewise (not long since) left your Daughter with Don Grumedan, and very shortly they will be with you. But because I vnder­stand that Barsinan mollesteth you with trecherie, suffer vs I pray you to go sée what he can doo. When the Quéene heard these ioyfull tidings, her inward content tooke away the libertie of her speeche, nor could she doo any thing but lift her hands and eyes to heauen, applauding his name from whome this good proceeded, and by gestures deliue­ring some signe of thanks to Amadis. At length, hauing ouercome this delightfull passion, and intending to questi­on further concerning these newes: the allarme was soun­ded, wherefore King Arban & Amadis hyed to the barres, where they found Barsinans men giuing an eager charge, as hoping to conquer the contrary part. But Amadis thru­sting him-selfe formost, caused the barres to bée taken downe, and accompanyed with King Arban, brake in cou­ragiously vpon the enemy, a noble president to their Soul­dyours, who being chéered by this onset, tooke hart and fol­lowed. Now wexed the skirmish to be hot indéed, so that on both sides very many were slaine, which Barsinan per­ceiuing, and trusting in his multitude to suppresse the weaker part, came formost him-selfe in person, thinking (now he sawe the barres open) to driue his aduersaryes back againe into the Cittie. When Amadis noted his for­wardnes, he stepped back, and chaunged his Creast and Shéeld with a simple mercenarie Soldiour: yet reseruing his Launce, which with a strong carrire pierced through his Armour, and wounding Barsinan, brake in pieces in his flesh. Then drawing his Swoord, he gaue him such a stroke on the Helmet, as he was astonnied there-with, and re­doubling his blowe, cut his right arme quite from his [Page 179] shoulder: when Barsinan (féeling him so wounded) would haue retyred back, to saue him-selfe by the spéed of his horsse, but he fell to the ground as depriued of his sences. Wherefore Amadis left him, and set vpon the rest, who being vnable to endure these hot assaults, likewise behol­ding their Lord dismounted: tooke themselues to flight for safetie of their liues, yet were they so closely followed, as the most part of them were slaine in the feeld, and some fewe of them escaped into the Tower, causing the bridge to be quickly drawen vp after them. Heere-upon Amadis returned where he left Barsinan, and because he was not yet dead, commaunded he should be caryed to the Quéenes lodging, there to be kept till the Kings returne: and as he would haue put vp his Swoord, he sawe it soyled with blood, wherefore in wiping it, he said. Thou trustie Sword, in a happy houre was the Knight borne to whome thou belongest: and as thou art one of the best in the world, so is thy Maister the most vertuous Prince liuing. He vsed these words, because it appertayned to King Lisuart, and was sent him from the Quéene by Gandalin, as you heard before: but now returnes he with King Arban to the Quéenes lodging, to comfort her with newes of this hap­pie victorie.

All this while the King is hasting toward London, giuing order to returne al the Knights he met by the way, among whome were Agraies, Galuanes, Soliuan, Galdan, Dinadaus and Bernas: all which were highly in the Kings fauour, as men of vertue and no small deseruing, and his Maiestie hauing embraced them, said. My noble good freends, you had almost lost me, but God be thanked, you haue recouered me againe, by the help of these thrée woor­thie Knightes, Galaor, Guilan and Ladasin. In sooth my Lord, answered Dinadaus, so soone as your mishap was knowen in the Cittie, eche one prepared to bring you suc­cour. I knowe my good Nephewe, quoth the King, that I am greatly beholding to you all: but I pray you take good [Page] store of these Knights, and post with spéede to assist the Quéene, for I doubt she is in no little daunger. This Di­nadaus was one of the best Knightes of the Kings linage, and well estéemed among men of account, as well in re­spect of his vertues, as also his braue behauiour in chiual­rie: so according to the Kinges commaund, he rode away presently very brauelye accompanied. The King likewise followed an indifferent pace, least his Nephewe should stand in need of helpe, and by the way he ouer-tooke Don Grumedan with his daughter Oriana, how ioyfull his mée­ting was you may easily conceiue, that the seperation was not so greeuous, but this was as gladsome. Grumedan told his Maiestie, how Amadis left the Princesse with him, while he rode before to assist the Quéen: thus with repeti­tion of many matters, they beguiled y^e time till they arri­ued at London, where he vnderstood the successe of Barsi­nans enterprise, and how valiantly King Arban had resi­sted him, not forgetting the woorthye behauiour of Ama­dis, in taking him prisoner and discomfiting his men, except a few that saued them-selues in the Tower. Héere would it aske a worlde of time, to reporte the ioye, pleasure, and contentment betwéene the King and Quéene at their mee­ting, likewise the Mothers comfort hauing recouered her Daughter againe: but as your iudgementes can better conceiue then I set down, matter aboue the reache of com­mon capacitie, so doo I leaue it to you, and proceede to the King. Who to terrifie the traitours thus gotten into hold, besieged them seuerelly, and to disharten them the more, brought Barsinan & Arcalaus Nephewe before the walles, where before all the people they confessed their treason. Which beeing doone, a great fier was made, wherin they were aliue consumed, but when they in the Tower beheld this spectackle, and that they were in great want of victu­alles, they yéelded them-selues to the Kinges mercye, the most parte of them béeing (for examples sake) hanged on the battlements, and the rest set at libertie vpon humble [Page 180] submission. Yet this matter bred great trouble afterward, betwéene them of great Brittaine and Sansuegua: for the Sonne of Barsinan beeing a good Knight, vexed King Lisu­art with contagious warre, as the Historye heere-after at large is mentioned.

After the King had escaped these mis-fortunes, the for­mer ioyes and pastimes began again: during which time, the Lady and her two Sonnes, (the messengers of Mada­sima, who were witnesses when Galaor and Amadis pro­mised to forsake King Lisuarts seruice) arriued at y^e Court. When the two Princes were aduertised therof, they went and freendly entertained her, she saying: Gentlemen you know the cause of my comming, are you determined to kéep your promise? We are, quoth they, and will not breake our couenaunt with Madasima, but presently will perfourm it before the King. Entring the great hall, the Lady fell on her knees before his Maiestie, deliuering these speeches. My Lord, I am come to your Courte, to see if these two Knightes will obserue a couenaunt, which in my presence they made to a Lady. What was it? answered the King. A matter that will scant like you, quoth the Lady, or any such as beare you affection: and therto she added y^e whole circumstance. Wherat the King wexing some what offen­ded, tolde Galaor that he had very much wronged him. My Lord, replyed Galaor, it was better to doo so, then be treche­rously slaine, for had we beene knowen, neither you or all the worlde could haue saued our liues: but let not your Maiestie be offended, for the remedie shall be more readye then you expect. In accomplishing my promise to Madasi­ma of Gantasi, my Lord I take my leaue of you, departing altogether from your seruice: certifying you, that it is her wil to doo you this displeasure, and wursse if she could com­passe it, for the extreame mallice she beareth to you. Ama­dis affirmed what his brother had doone, then Galaor tur­ning to the Lady and her two Sonnes, said. Haue we not now accomplished our promise? Yes truely, quoth the La­dy, [Page] we must néedes auouch so much. You may then return when you please, answered Galaor, but tell Madasima, she did not so much as she wéened, as you may perceiue by the present effect. Now my Lord, quoth he to the King, we haue fulfilled our promise to Madasima, and because in graunting her earnest desire, the time was not limitted how long we should leaue your seruice: we may enter ther-into againe when you please to commaund, so that we are yours as faithfull as before, When the King and all that were present heard what had past, they reioyced exceedingly, esteeming Galaor and Amadis well aduised héerin, wher-upon the King thus spake to the Lady. Accor­ding to her great treason vnder shaddow of good meaning, they are bound to no more then they haue accomplished: for to deceiue the deceiuer is no deceit. And say to Madasi­ma, séeing she hateth me so vnreasonably, she once had them in her power, who might haue greeued me all my life time: but God hauing in other places deliuered me from many perilles, will not suffer me to perish by so bad a woman as she is. I desire ye my Lord, quoth she, to tell me their names. The one is Amadis, answered the King, and the other his brother Galaor. May it be possible, said the Lady, that Madasima had Amadis in her power? Credit me, quoth the King, I haue tolde ye trueth. Their fortune was good, replyed the Lady, for they might not haue escaped if she had knowne them: and in sooth the deed might be reckoned ominous, if two such woorthye persons had perished. Yet when she shall know heereof, saide the King, I thinke she will forbeare to wrong me any further. With that the Lady tooke her leaue, shaping her course the same way she came.

TWelue dayes together (after these mishaps) did King Lisuart continue his Courte in all magnificence, ma­ny noble personages béeing there assembled, as well strangers as o­ther, hoping now to make little stay but to returne home to their owne houses: yet the greater parte of them aboad with the King, in like maner did sundry woorthy Ladyes accompany the Quéene. Among other Knightes attending on the King, were Don Guilan the pensiue, and his Cozin Ladasin, who (as I haue saide) were very good Knightes: but Guilan was the bet­ter of the twaine, for very few were found in the Realme of great Brittaine, that caryed more account for déedes of Armes, and all other graces beseeming a Knight, setting aside his musing and melancholye. By means wherof, few or none could be pleasant with him, or haue any woordes from him in companie: but loue procured these extreames, busying his thoughtes in such sorte with his Lady, as he had minde of none but her. And she of whome we speake, was endued with singuler beautye, béeing named Branda­lisia, sister to the Kinges wife of Sobradisa, and ioyned in mariage with the Duke of Bristoya: who now was ariued at the Courte, to answere the accusation Oliuas laide a­gainst him. The King gaue him very gentle welcome, and béeing in the presence of many great Lordes, the Duke be­gan in this manner. Sir, you haue commaunded my ap­pearance [Page] héere this day, to iustifie my selfe before your Ma­iestie, concerning a crime Oliuas chargeth me withall: wherof I hope sufficiently to cléere my selfe, by the right­full iudgemēt your selfe shall giue, & he rest condemned like a varlet as he is: for héer am I ready to approue against him, or any other he shall bring, that I neuer committed treason or so foule a deede. At these woords Oliuas arose, & with him a great number of Knightes errant, all resolued to maintaine this quarrell against the Duke: when the King behelde them in such a mutinie, he meruailed whence the cause should proceed, when Grumedan speaking for all the rest, saide. My Lord, because the Duke of Bristoya hath threatned and defied all Knightes errant, we are ready to answere his challenge. In good faith, answered the King, if it be so? he hath attempted an ouer-fond warre, for I think there is no King in the worlde so puissant, that will be in­duced to such an enterprise. But for-beare at this time, and offer him no iniurie, because he is héere to receiue iu­stice: which shall be doone, according to the councell of the Princes and Lordes present, without fauouring any one. Then Oliuas falling on his knée before the King, began in this wanner. My Lord, the Duke who standeth before your Maiestie, hath slaine a Cozin germaine of mine, he neuer giuing him occasion of offence: wherfore I wil iusti­fie him to be a villaine and a traytour, and will make him confesse it with his owne mouthe, else shall I kill him and cast him foorth of the feelde. The Duke tolde him he lyed, and he was ready to accomplishe what the King and his Courte should ordaine: wher-upon it was determined, that this emulation should be discided by combate, which the Duke accepted, desiring the King to permit him and his two Nephewes in this cause, against Oliuas and two other Knightes. This béeing graunted, the Duke was ve­ry glad therof, for he made such account of his kinsemen, as he thought Oliuas could not bring their like: notwithstan­ding, all was deferred till the morrow following.

[Page 182]In meane while, Don Galuanes asked his Nephew A­graies, if he would assist Oliuas against the Duke, and he consenting there-to, Galuanes came to Oliuas, saying. Sir Oliuas, séeing the Duke is desirous to fight three against thrée, my Nephewe and I are determined to take your part: which when the Duke heard, he remembred that he had defyed them in his owne house, when Agraies com­batted with the Dwarffes champion, at what time the Damosell should haue béene burned, wherefore he became very pensiue, in respect though he estéemed his Nephewes approoued good Knights, yet he repented his wilfull offer, and gladly would haue excused the matter if he could, bée­ing too well acquainted with the behauiour of Galuanes and Agraies. But considering his promise past before the King, and so many noble personages there present, he must of necessitie stand there-to: where-fore the next morning he entred the Lysties with his Nephewes, and Oliuas on the contrary side with his copartners. Now were the La­dyes standing at the windowes, to behold the issue of this quarrell, and among the rest stood Oliuia the faire fréend to Agraies, who séeing him ready to enter such perill, was so dismayed, as she could scant tell what countenance to vse. By her stoode Mabila, she beeing in no lesse greefe for her Unckle and Brother together: likewise the Princesse O­riana, louing them both, in respect of the reasons héere-to-fore declared, accompanyed the two Ladyes in sorrowe, fearing their daunger: but the Knights being ready to the combate, the King by a Herald commaunded the Champi­ons to doo their deuoyre. Héere-upon, with a braue carrire they encountred together, Agraies and Galuanes vnhorssing the two Nephewes, and albeit Oliuas receiued a wound on the stomack, yet had not the Duke caught hold about his horsse neck, his fortune had prooued as bad as his Ne­phewes. Then drawing their Swoords, they smote so vio­lently against eche other, as the standers by wundered at their fiercenes: beholding their Shéelds defaced, their Ar­mour [Page] battered and coullered with their blood, that the victory hung a long time in suspence. For Agraies horsse béeing slaine vnder him, brought his life into meruailous hazard, because the Duke and one of his Nephewes stroue to keepe him downe, seeking to thrust their Swoords into his belly, or else to smite his head from his shoulders: but he was so well armed, and of such courage withall, as he held them both play though with exceeding perill. Well you may thinke, that his freends greeued to see him in this distresse, especially the three Ladyes, of whome we spake so lately, whose cheekes were bedewed with whole foun­taines of teares, and wofull Oliuia seemed rather dead then liuing. But had he long continued in this extremitie, her latest hower must needes haue ensued, yet at length he recouered him-selfe, charging the Duke and his Nephewe with such puissant strokes, as well declared his hardy cou­rage. Oliuas all this while was in such case, by reason of the sore wound the Duke gaue him, that he could hardly defend him-selfe: which the Duke perceiuing, he left his Nephewe with Agraies, and assailing Oliuas very roughly, made him fall downe in a great astonishment. But as he would haue slayne him, Agraies stepped betweene them, (hauing already dispatched his enemy of his head) and hindered the Duke from his determination, wounding him in many places on his body, that he could scant tell which way to turne him. Don Galuanes likewise hauing slaine the other Nephew, came to assist Agraies against the Duke, who seeing his life at the latest exigent, turned his horsse to escape away: but Agraies gaue him such a stroke on the Helmet, as he fell beside his saddle, with one of his feete hanging in the stirrop, when the horsse being at liber­tie, feeling his burthen hang on the one side, ran flinging vp and downe, none being able to reskew the Duke, till his neck was broken with dragging along. Heere-upon Agraies left him, returning to his Unckle to knowe how he fared. Uery well I thanke God, answered Galuanes, but it [Page 183] greeueth me that Oliuas is dead, for he lyeth still and moo­ueth not. Right sorry likewise was Agraies to heare these woordes, wherfore commaunding the Duke and his Ne­phewes bodies to be throwen foorth of the feeld, they came bothe to Oliuas, and finding him aliue, as also his woundes not to be mortall, they bound thē vp so well as they could, saying. Freend Oliuas, be of good cheere, for though you haue lost very much blood, yet doubt we not of your health, because we finde little danger in your hurtes. Alas my Lordes, quoth Oliuas, my hart fainteth, and albeit I haue beene héer-tofore wounded, yet neuer was I in such debili­tie. Then the King desired to know whether he were dead or no, and when it was tolde him, how he wanted nothing but spéedye cure: he commaunded him to be honorably ca­ryed into the Cittie, and his owne Chirurgions to attend on his health, euen as it were his owne person: which they did, promising, to deliuer him well againe within fewe dayes.

Thus euery one returned, disputing diuerslye on the end of the Combate, and according to their particuler af­fections, so that soone after, the Queene (who was one of the best Ladyes in the worlde) was aduised to send for the wife to the deceassed Duke, that in the Courte she might weare away the cause of her melanchollie: and to dispatch this busines she sent Don Grumedan to her, requesting she would bring her Niece Aldena with her, wherof Galuanes was not a little glad, especially Don Guilan, who was the freend and beloued of the Duchesse. Not long after, she and her Niece arriued at the Courte, where they were right nobly feasted and entertained. Thus the King spent the time in the Cittie of London, accompanied with many great Lordes, Knights and Ladyes, because the same was blazed through the worlde, of his honorable curtesie to strange Knightes: which drewe an exceeding number to his Courte, whom he rewarded very bountifullye, hoping (by their meanes) not only to confirme his Realm in peace, [Page] but likewise to conquer other, which sometime had beene subiect and tributarie to his Crowne, yet through the pu­sillanimitie and negligence of the Kings his predecessors, were lost and discontinued their former obedience.

HEeretofore it hath beene declared, how Amadis being with Briolania, promised to reuenge the King her Fathers death, against Abiseos and his two Sonnes, which in one yéere after he should perfourme, being accompanyed with two o­ther Knights. Also how when hée tooke his leaue of her, she gaue him a Swoord, because his owne was broken, desiring him to weare it for her sake: which Swoord was afterwarde broken at the Ladyes Castell, who was the beloued of Angriote d' Estrauaus, when he combatted with Gasinan, and commaunded Gandalin to bring away the pieces ther­of: which occasioned great harme not long after, not by any fault in him, but by the indiscretion of Dardan the Dwarffe, who imagined his maister loued the faire Brio­lania, in respect he offered him-selfe to be her Knight.

One day therefore, Amadis being with King Lisuart, euermore delighting with his Lady Oriana, to the no little contentation of them bothe: Loue, who often-times pro­uoketh his subiects, would no longer continue them in so great ease, but rayse some cinders of diuision, wherby they might receiue discontentment. For this cause he made [Page 184] Amadis remember his promise to Briolania, that he should combate against Abiseos within one yéere, the end wherof was now at hand: & béeing lothe to faile therin, he sought all conuenient meanes to take his leaue of the Princesse Oriana, determining to acquaint her with the whole cause, in what sorte Briolania was disinherited of her Fathers Kingdome. Such were his discourses on her behalfe, that although Oriana was loth to graunt what he demaunded, or to permit his absence from her: yet beeing ouer-come with compassion, she restrained her will, and in middest of her sorrow, saide: Deere fréend, I know well that your speeches are reasonable, but the wrong you doo me allow­eth no excuse: yet in respect I loue ye, as you are well assu­red, it is conuenient I should preferre your honor before mine owne pleasure. You haue promised (as you tell me) to succour a disinherited Lady, I am content, séeing there is no other remedie, though my consent be with greater greefe then you weene: for my minde is perswaded, some mischéefe will happen to me by this voiage. Madame, an­swered Amadis, vnwilling am I to giue you any occasion of dislike, or to attempt any thing against your minde, ra­ther could I wishe neuer to haue béene borne: let Briola­nia then pardon my tarying, for I holde my selfe sufficient­ly excused, seeing my departure is not agréeable to you. Not so sweete freend, replyed Oriana, I am willing you shall goe: but make a spéedye returne I pray you. With twenty kisses was this seperation sealed, and she desired him to acquaint the Quéene ther-with, that this iourney might be shaddowed vnder her commaundement: which he did, and on the morrow departed with Galaor & Agraies, when they had not ridden past halfe a mile, but he asked Gandalin, if he had brought with him the pieces of y^e swoord, that Briolania gaue him when he left her. No my Lord, an­swered Gandalin. Returne then, quoth Amadis to the Dwarffe, and when thou hast them, make what spéed thou canst to ouer-take vs. Alas, had he but misdoubted the [Page] mishap followed heeron, he neuer would haue sent such a messenger: for by his rechlesse speeches, he endaungered the liues of Amadis and Oriana together, as shall heeraf­ter be largely described.

Gon is the Dwarffe to his Maisters lodging, and fin­ding the pieces of the Swoord, in the place where Gandalin had directed him, returned hastily toward his Maister: but passing by the Quéens lodging, he heard one call him, when looking about, he espied the Princesses Oriana and Mabila, who demaunded wherfore he had left Amadis. Madame, quoth he, I haue not beene so long from him, but I can quickly ouer-take him: for this which I carye, will let him make no great haste till I come. What is it? saide Oriana. What? answered the Dwarffe, I can assure ye Madame, he prizeth them more then they be woorth, for her sake that gaue him the Swoord. What is she? quoth Oriana. The Lady, replyed the Dwarffe, for whom he now vndertakes the combate. And though you be daughter to the best King in the worlde, as also fairer (in mine opinion) then any o­ther: yet rather should you haue gained her conquest, then all the wealth in this kingdome. I know not what thou meanest saide Oriana, vnlesse thy maister haue giuen him selfe to her? You haue guessed right Madame, answered the Dwarffe, he is altogether at her commaundement, thinking him selfe happie to be her Knight. So taking his leaue, he posted to ouer-take his maister, who little thought on these slaunderous reportes: but Oriana entred into such a iealouzie, as without regarde of any thing what-soeuer, she would haue cast her selfe foorth at the windowe, had not Mabila and the Damosell of Denmarke stayed her. Now riseth frowning anger in her browes, and she to misconceiue of the man, whose only desire was to doo her seruice. With often wringing her handes she cal­leth to remembraunce, in what earnest affection he desired leaue for this voyage, which augmented her suspition of the Dwarffes woordes: and in such sort was her hart shut [Page 185] vp, as no teare might fall from her eyes, because those va­pours were withdrawen to the most woorthie place in her. Heereupon her torments redoubled in extreames, as Dido for the tromperie of Aeneas, or sad Medea, seeing her selfe forsaken of her freend Iason, neuer felt like anguish: and in fatall fortune she would haue succeeded them, but that she was hindered by them about her, who found the meanes to defend her from such mishap.

By this time the Dwarffe ouer-tooke Amadis and the rest, when they began to ride some-what faster, Amadis not requiring any thing of him, nor he reciting what he tolde the Princesse, but shewed him the pieces of the Swoord he brought. Nor farre had they ridden, but they met a Dam­sell, who after she had saluted them, demaunded whether they trauailed, saying, she would aduise them to forsake that way. Wherefore? answered Amadis. Because, quoth she, for the space of fiftéene dayes, no Knight errant passed this way, but he hath béene either wounded or slaine. And who hath doone them such displeasure? said Amadis. A Knight, answered the Damosell, the most valiant man at Armes that euer was seene. I pray yée Damosell, quoth Agraies, bring vs where we may see him. You cannot ride farre in this Forrest, said she, but he will quickly shewe him-selfe. So trauaile they on with the Damosell, and long time they neither heard or sawe any one, which made them thinke she spake these woords to feare them: yet soone after, Amadis espyed the Knight, who séemed a man of goodly stature, and ready prepared for the combate. As hee and his companyons stoode beholding him, they sawe him speake to a Squire, who reared foure Launces against a trée, and afterward came to them, saying. Gentlemen, my Maister giueth you to vnderstand, how during the space of fiftéene dayes, he hath vndertaken the guard of this For­rest, in all which time his fortune hath beene not to be van­quished by any one: and though it be a day and a halfe since his intended tearme is expired, yet stayeth he héere till now [Page] for the pleasure he hath in Iousting, and as he was depar­ting hence, he espyed you comming: wherefore he letteth you knowe, that if eche of you will breake a Launce, hee careth not to trye his fortune with you, prouided, that the combate at the swoord be spared, because he sildome procée­deth so farre without dooing more harme then willingly he would. When Agraies heard this message, he tooke his Armes, returning this answere: Fréend, goe tell thy mai­ster I am content to trye the Ioust with him. Héereupon, he gaue the Spurres to his horsse, and the Knight seeing him comming, gaue foorth to meet him, their Launces be­ing broken in the encounter: but Agraies was easily cast from his horsse, of which foyle he could not but be asha­med. Galaor beholding his Cozin dismounted, determined to reuenge his wrong, bidding the Knight to prepare him­selfe, who taking an other Launce, ran against Galaor with such furie, as after their staues were broken, their bodyes met together so vehemently, that Galaors horsse beeing more feeble then the other, fell downe with his maister on his back, but the Prince not recouering him-selfe, was left on the ground, when the horsse arose, and ran about the feeld, as the other of Agraies did. Amadis abashed at these accidents, preparing himselfe, said to the Knight. I knowe not what thou art, but thou mayst vaunt, that thou hast dismounted two approoued good Knights. So coutching his Launce, proceeded forward, but Galaor stayed him, cal­ling the Knight to the combate, which made Amadis thus to answere. Brother, finde not your selfe agreeued with him, because he sent vs woord before the Ioust, that he would not combate with the Swoord: but I hope to take reuenge for all. Heerewith they encountred valiantly to­gether, breaking their Launces so couragiously, and mee­ting with their bodyes so violently, as Amadis was throwen to the earth, his horsses shoulder being broken in the fall: in like manner was the Knight dismounted, but kéeping the reynes of his bridle in his hand, he quickly [Page 186] mounted on horsseback againe, when Amadis thus spake to him. We must try one course more, if thou wilt haue the honor, for as yet it is not wun, because we bothe were vnhorssed. I will not now Ioust any more, answered the Knight. Then you doo me wrong, replyed Amadis. Re­dresse it if you can, said the Knight: for according to my order before the Ioust, I am bound to no more then what I haue doone. After these woords, hee gallopped away through the Forrest so fast as hee could, which when Ama­dis and his companyons sawe, they being all on foote: they stood as men ashamed, for they could not imagin what hée was that had thus intreated them, where upon Amadis mounted on Gandalins horsse, saying to his fréendes: Followe me if you please, for it would greeue me not to knowe the name of this Knight. In sooth, answered the Damosell, it were the greatest folly in you, aboue all the Knights belonging to King Lisuart, to thinke you can finde him in one whole yéere, vnlesse you bée directly guided. Faire Damosell, said Galaor, it may be you know what he is, and the place where he abideth. On my faith, quoth she, if I knowe any thing thereof, I meane not to tell it you: for neuer will I iniurie so good a Knight. Damosell, replyed Galaor, by the affection you beare to the thing you most loue in the world, tell vs I pray yée what you knowe in this matter. You coniure me in vaine, quoth she, for neuer will I discouer his affaires, except you deliuer me some good present. Demaund what you will, answered Amadis, and you shall haue it, on condition you helpe vs to finde the Knight. I am content, replyed the Damosell, if first you will tell me your names, and afterward eche of you graunt me a boone, at what time I shall demaund them of you. With all our harts, quoth Amadis, as for our names, the one is Galaor, the other Agraies, and my selfe am Amadis. When the Damosell heard this, she was very glad, say­ing: Certes my Lord, my iourney is shortned, for I seeke you. Then you haue now found me, answered Amadis, [Page] what is your will with me? That you shall know, quoth she, when time serueth: but doo you not remember the combate, which you promised to perfourme for the King of Sobradisaes daughter, when she succoured you by meanes of the Lyons? Yes that I doo, saide Amadis, and now am I riding toward her. Would you then, quoth the Damosell, follow a Knight so hard to be found, and the time for the combate béeing néerer then you wéene? She saith very well my Lord, answered Galaor, doo you therfore and Agraies proceed on your iourney, and I will séeke the Knight with this Damosell: for neuer shal I rest til I haue found him, and if it be possible, I wil be with you before you deale with Abiseos. Be it so, replyed Amadis, but she promised vs to tell his name, and where we may finde him. His name, quoth the Damosell, I cannot tell ye, for I know it not my selfe, and yet I haue beene a moneth with him, in which time I haue seene him doo such déeds of Armes, as without sight thereof I would neuer haue credited: but where he now is, I can conduct him thither that will goe with me. It is all I request, answered Galaor. Followe me then, quoth she: so taking their leaue, they seperated them­selues.

Thus Amadis and Agraies holde on their waye, arri­uing within fewe dayes after at the Castell of Torin, where they found the faire Briolania, with the auncient La­dy: but when Amadis behelde her, he found her meruay­louslye changed, for if she were faire when he first saw her, she now séemed of such excellent perfection, as (except Ori­ana) he reputed her the most beautifull creature in the worlde, wher-upon he saide to Agraies. If nature was desi­rous to expresse her cunning in a creature, in this Ladye she hath most sufficiently accomplished it. My Lord, quoth she, full long haue we expected your comming, for in you consisteth our only hope. Madame, answered Amadis, by the helpe of God I trust you shall recouer your losse, and we will doo our vttermost therin. As thus they deuised, [Page 187] they entred a faire chamber, where mantles were brought to wrap about them, and Briolania holpe to vnarme Ama­dis, for she could not be satisfied with beholding him, be­cause she counted him the fairest knight that euer was séen, being now but twenty yéeres of age. And so piercingly did he regarde her, as long time after she wexed very amou­rous, so that when she had recouered her Kingdome, she wished him sole Lord of her and her countrye togeather, as shall heer-after be declared. But Amadis was else-where addicted, and gaue sufficient proofe to her, that the extream anguishes he endured for his Oriana, were manifest exam­ples of his stedfast loyaltie. Neuer-the-lesse, the yong Lord of Portugall pittying faire Briolania, would disguise this historye in another manner, describing farre otherwise the loue of her and Amadis, which reporte is woorthye of no credit. For he saith, that Briolania being restored into her Kingdome, prouiding for the health of Amadis and Agraies who were wounded, she continuing euer-more amourous of Amadis, seeing by no meanes she could win him to be her fréend: tooke aside the Damosell, to whome Amadis, Galaor and Agraies made the seuerall promises, at what time she conducted Galaor to the Knight that ious [...]ed with them in the Forrest, and discouering the secrets of her hart to her, with aboundance of teares and affectionate sighes, requested her councell and remedye in these amourous pas­sions. The Damosell compassionate on her Ladyes sicke­nesse, promised to giue her redresse for it, wher-upon she said to Amadis, that the boone she would desire of him, was his entrance into a Tower, from whence he should not de­part, vntill he had begotten of Briolania a sonne or a daugh­ter. Amadis willing to kéepe promise with the Damosell, yeelded therto, yet without any will to touch Briolania: wherby he grew into such melanchollye, as he refused all bodily sustenaunce, and fell into such danger of his person, as euery hower he expected death. Which beeing heard in the Courte of King Lisuart, as also his deadly dangerous [Page] extremetie: Oriana (lothe to loose him) sent him woord and licence, that he should doo what the Lady requested. Wher­upon Amadis considering he might no way else escape, and his gracious Mistresse pittyed him so much, he begat a sonne and a daughter of Briolania, wherof she was deliue­red at one labour: but this historye is altogeather false and faigned. It might be that Amadis was prisoner in the Tower, and Briolania behelde his dayly pining away: but she desired the Damosell to remit him this boone, on condi­tion he should not departe till his brother Galaor returned, as willing to comfort her selfe with the sight of him, while she attended his brothers arriuall: for Galaor espoused her afterward, as you shall read in the fourth booke of this Hi­storye. Let it then suffice at this time, that Amadis and A­graies so [...]ourne certaine daies in the Castell, while all néed­full thinges were ready for their combate.

FOure dayes together, rode Galaor with the Damosell, seeking the Knight that vnhorssed him in the Forrest, for which he was so ouer­come with anger, as euery Knight he met withall déerly felt it, because in combate manye receiued their death. Then espying a faire Castell on the top of a high mountaine, the Damosell tolde him, there was no other place néere where they might lodge that night, wherfore he béeing glad to ac­cept [Page 188] therof, they came to the Castell, finding many Gen­tlemen and Ladies sporting together, among whom was a Knight aged about thrée-score yeeres, who taking Gala­or by the hand, did him all the honor might be deuised. My Lord, quoth Galaor, your courtesie to vs is so great, that albeit we were determined to passe further on our way, yet for your sake we are contēt to stay with you this night. Then the Knight conducted Galaor into a faire chamber, leauing the Damsell among the other Ladyes, & after the Prince was vnarmed, the Knight spake to him in this ma­ner. Héere Sir may you rest and take your ease, calling for any thing you stand in néede of: for God knowes I haue vsed such entertainemente not onlye to you, but to all Knightes errant that passed this way, because some-time I haue beene as now you are. Yet hath nature giuen me two sonnes, whose only delight is in search of aduentures, but now they lye sick in their beddes, béeing cruelly woun­ded by a Knight, who with one Launce cast them bothe from their Saddles. But they were so ashamed at this foyle, as they mounted againe and pursued the Knight, o­uer-taking him as he entred a Barque to passe the water, where my sonns saide to him, that in respect he had iousted so well, they would trye his fortune in combate with the Swoord, but the Knight made answere he could not now intend it, yet would they needes presse him so farre, as to hinder his entraunce into the Barque. Wher-upon a La­dy béeing in his company said, they wronged her ouermuch to stay her Knight: but they were not to departe, til he had combated with them at the Swoord. Seeing it will be no otherwise, replyed the Lady, he shall enter fight with the better of you bothe, on condition, that if he be conquerour, the other doo forbeare the combate. They answered, if the one were vanquished, the other would reuenge his foyle, which when the Knight heard, he was so angry: as he had them bothe come together, in respecte they were importu­nate and would not rest contented. In the triall, one of my [Page] Sonnes sustained the wurst, wherfore his brother séeing him in such perill, stroue to reskue him from death: yet all was in vaine, for the Knight handled them so roughlye, as he left them like dead men in the feeld, and afterward pas­sed away in the Barque. No sooner heard I of this mishap, but I sent for my sonnes, and home were they brought in this dangerous plight: but y^t you may giue credit to my woordes, beholde héere their Armour cut and mangled, as I think the like strokes neuer came from any mans hand. Galaor meruayling at this discourse, demaunded what Armes the conquering Knight bare: when he was answe­red, his Shéeld to be of vermillion couller, with two black Lyons figured therin. By these tokens Galaor knew him, that it was y^e same man he trauailed to finde, which made him demaund of his fréendly hoste, if he had no further knowledge of the Knight. No verily Sir, quoth the aunci­ent Gentleman. For this night, answered Galaor, let vs take our rest, and to morrow I intend to seek the man you talke on. For alreadye I haue trauailed foure dayes in his searche: but if I méete with him, I hope to reuenge the iniurye of your sonnes, and other likewise whome he hath offended, or else it wil cost the price of my life. I could rather wishe, saide the Knight, that leauing this perillous enterprise, you would take some other course, séeing my two sonnes haue béene so hardly intreated, their own wil­full follye béeing cause therof. So breaking off talke, Ga­laor tooke his rest till the next morning, when taking leaue of the auncient Knight, he rode away with the Damosell, who brought him to the place of passage in the Barque: where crossing the water to the other side, they came to a very beautifull Castell, whether the Damsell rode before, aduising the Prince to stay her returne. She taryed not long, but comming back againe, brought another Da­mosell with her of excellent beautye, and ten men beside all on horsse-back: after the faire Gentle-woman had saluted Galaor, she said. Sir, this Damsell that came in your com­pany [Page 189] telleth me, how you séek a Knight, who beareth two black Lyons in a vermillion Sheelde, and are desirous to know his name: this is very certaine, that you nor any o­ther can finde him for thrée yéeres space, but only by force of Armes, a matter not so easie to be accomplished by you, for perswade your selfe, his like is not to be found in all the Isles of great Brittaine. Lady, quoth Galaor, yet wil I not giue ouer his searche, although he conceale him selfe in this sorte: and if I méete with him, it shall like me be­ter to combate with him, then to knowe my demaund by any other way. Séeing then, answered the Damosell, your desire is such, I will shew you him within thrée daies ensu­ing, for this Gentle-womans sake, béeing my Cozin, who according to her promise hath earnestly intreated me. Ga­laor requited her with many thankes, and so they trauailed on, arriuing in the euening at an arme of the Sea, where they found a Barque ready for passage to a little Iland, and certaine Mariners in it, who made them all sweare, if they had any more then one knight in their company. No credit me, replyed the Damosell: heer-upon they set sayle and away. Then Galaor demaunded of the Damosell, the reason why they tooke such an oath. Because, quoth she, the Lady of the Isle whether we goe, hath so ordained it, that they shal let passe but one Knight at one time: and no other must they bring till his returne, or credible intelli­gence of his death. What is he, saide Galaor, that vanqui­sheth or killeth them? The selfe-same Knight you séek, an­swered the Damosell, whom the Lady hath kept with her more then halfe a yéere, intirely louing him, and the cause of this affection procéeded from a Tourney, which not long since he maintained in this countrey, for the loue of her and another faire Lady, whom the Knight (being a straunger héere) conquered, defending her cause with whom he now is, and euer since she bare him such affection, as without graunt of his loue she would haue dyed. Sometime he is desirous to séeke after strange aduentures, but then the Lady to detain him still in this place, causeth such Knights [Page] as come hither to passe one after another, against whome he combatteth, and not one hath yet returned vn-vanqui­shed: such as dye in fight are there interred, and the foy­led sent back againe, despoyled of their horsse and Armes, which the Knight presenteth to his Lady, she beeing one of the fairest creatures in the worlde, named Corisanda, and the Isle Brauisande. Know you not the cause▪ [...]aide Galaor, wherfore the Knight went not many dayes since, to a For­rest where I found him, and kept the passage there fifteene dayes together, against all such as trauayled that way? Yes mary, quoth the Damosell, he promised a boone to a Lady before he came hither, wehrfore she intreated him to kéepe the Forrest for the space of fifteene dayes: yet hardly he got licence of his faire Mistresse, who allowed him but a moneth to stay and returne.

By this time they were landed, and come before a good­ly Castell, where stood a piller of marble, with a horne han­ging on it, which the Damsell bad him winde, & the Knight would come foorth at the sound therof. After he had giuen a good blast, certaine Pages came foorth of the Castell, who set vp a Pauillion in the middest of the feelde, and sixe La­dies (soone after) came walking foorth, one of them séeming by her gesture and countenaunce, to be commaunder of the rest, taking her place accordingly in the Tent. I meruaile, saide Galaor, the Knight taryeth so long, I desire one of you to will the Lady send for him, because busines else where of great importance, forbiddeth me to trifle time heere in vaine. One of the Damoselles fulfilled his request. What? answered Corisanda, maketh he so small account of our Knight? thinketh he so easily to escape from him? hath he such minde of other affaires, before he sée the end of this attempt? indeed I thinke he shall returne sooner then he ex­pecteth, but with slender aduauntage for him to bragge of: then calling a Page she said. Goe, and bid y^e strange Knight come foorth. The Page quickly did his message, and soone after, the Knight came foorth one foote, being all armed ex­cept [Page 190] with his helmet, which was brought after him with his Launce, and another Page leading his Courser: when he came before his Lady, she saide. Beholde Sir, heere is a braue Knight, who thinketh lightly to ouer-come you, and accounteth him selfe assured of the victorie: I pray you let him know the price of his folly. After these woordes she kis­sed and embraced him, but Galaor noting all these miste­ries, thought he taryed too long from y^e combate: at length the Knight béeing mounted, they prepared them-selues to the carrire, and breaking their Launces in the encounter, were bothe wounded. Galaor presently drew his Swoord, but the Knight intreated him to ioust once more. With all my hart, replyed Galaor, yet I am sory my horsse is not so good as yours, for if it were: I could be content not to giue ouer, till one of vs lay along on the ground, or all these Launces broken in peeces. The Knight made him no an­swere, but commaunded a Squire to bring them other staues, and méeting together, Galaors horsse was almoste downe: the Knight likewise lost his stirrops, being glad to catche hold by the maine of his horsse, wherat as one some­what ashamed, he said to Galaor. You are desirous to com­bate with the swoord, which I haue deferred, not for any doubt of my self, but only to spare you, not-with-standing, we must néeds now trye y^e issue therof. Doo what you can, answered Galaor, I meane to be reuenged for your kinde­nes in the Forrest. These woordes made the Knight soone to remember him, saying: You must doo no more then you can, and happily before you departe hence, you may sustayn a foyle wursse then the first. Heer-upon they fel to the com­bate, which began and continued with such furye, as the Ladyes were driuen into wonderfull amazement, yea, them-selues were abashed that they held out so long, ha­uing their Armour mangled, their sheeldes defaced, their bodyes sore wounded, and the blood streaming downe vpon their horsses: Galaor neuer beeing in such daunger of his life, but when he fought with his brother Amadis, which [Page] made him cary better opinion of the Knight, and bothe of them being glad to breath a while, Galaor entred into these speeches. You see Sir I haue the better of the combate, let me therfore know your name, and why you conceale your selfe so closely: wherin you shall doo me very great plea­sure, and we may continue freendes, else wursse wil ensue then you imagine. Be well assured answered the Knight, our strife shall not be ended so easily, nor am I to be ouer­come so lightly as you weene, beside, I was neuer more desirous to prolong a combate, then I am at this instant, because I neuer met with the knight that tryed me so wel: but to you nor any other will I be knowne, except one Knight who hath power to commaund me. Be not so opi­nitiue, replyed Galaor, for I sweare to you by the faith I owe to God, neuer to leaue you til I know what you are, and why you conceale your selfe so secretly. And I sweare to you quoth the Knight, while breath is in my bodye you shal not know it by me, and rather would I presently dye, then any but two should vnderstand what I am: yet I knowe not them, but they may and shall haue knowledge of me. And what are they, saide Galaor, you estéeme so much? Neither will I disclose them to you, answered the Knight. Bothe them and my former demaund, quoth Ga­laor, I will knowe, else one of vs shall dye, or bothe toge­ther. I am well pleased ther-with, replyed the Knight. So begin they to charge eche other a freshe, as if they had not fought together before at all: but the strange Knight re­ceiued many cruell woundes, which made his strength more and more to faile: and the Lady séeing the great dan­ger of his life, would suffer him to endure no further peril, but comming to Galaor, said. For-beare Sir Knight, would God the Barque and Mariners had suncke, before they brought you hither. Lady, quoth Galaor, you ought not to blame me in dooing my deuoire against this Knight, who hath outraged me & many more beside, for which I meane to be reuenged this day. For-beare, said y^e Lady, to wrong [Page 191] him any more, otherwise you may fall into an extremitie without any mercy. It matters not what may happen, an­swered Galaor: but nothing shall make me giue ouer, vn­til he haue satis-fied my demaund. And what is that? quoth she. He must tell me his name, replyed Galaor, and why so closely he concealeth himself, likewise, what y^e two Knights are of whome he told me but euen now. Proceed no further in combate, said the Lady, and I will satisfye your de­maund. This Gentleman is named Don Florestan, concea­ling himselfe in this secret manner to finde his two bre­theren, who are in this countrey accounted such men at Armes, that albeit he hath well tryed himselfe with you, yet will he not be commonly knowen, till he haue accom­plished such déedes in chiualrie, as may deserue to equall him with them, who are at this time in King Lisuarts Court, one of them being named Amadis, the other Galaor, and all thrée the Sonnes to King Perion of Gaule. Alas, what haue I done? quoth Galaor, heere brother, take my Swoord, and therewithall the honor of the fight, for I haue offended ouer-much. What? said the Knight, am I then your brother? According to this Ladyes spéeches, answe­red Galaor, you are, and I am your brother Galaor. Flore­stan amazed at this accident, fell on his knée, saying. My Lord, I desire you to pardon me, for this offence in com­batting vnknowen with you, was caused by no other rea­son: but that I durst not name my selfe your brother, till I had made some imitation of your noble vertues. Galaor courteouslye embraced him in his armes, the teares strea­ming from his eyes with ioye, and gréeuing to sée him so sore wounded, doubting least his life was in great danger: but when the Lady saw them so good freendes, and the en­mitie conuerted into such humilitie, as one right glad ther­of, she saide to Galaar. Woorthy Sir, though first you gaue me occasion of great heauines, yet now with sufficient ioy you haue recompenced me. So taking eche of them by the hand, she walked with them into the Castell, where they being [Page] lodged in two sumptuous beds, her selfe (skilfull in Chi­rurgerie) cured their wonndes. Thus remained the two bretheren with the rich and beautifull Lady Corisanda, who desired their health as her owne wel-fare.

AT what time King Perion sought after strange Aduentures, he arri­ued in the Countrye of Almaigne, where he soiourned the space of two yéeres, accomplishing many braue déedes of Armes, the renowme where-of continueth to this daye. And as he returned toward Gaule, he lodged in the Counties house of Zealand, where he was entertained very royally, as well in respect of his own reputation, as also because the Coun­tie him-selfe had some-time béene a Knight errant, which made him loue all such as followed Armes. After supper, the King was conducted to his chamber, where beeing in bed, and some-what weary with trauaile, he fell a sleepe soundly: but to shake off this heauines, he felt him self em­braced and kissed he knewe not by whome, when starting vp to arise, he was so held downe that he could not. Why Sir? quoth she that thus maistred him, take you no plea­sure in me who am alone with you? The King looking on her, by meanes of the light which still burned in his cham­ber, he discerned her to be a most beautifull Lady, where­fore he thus answered. I pray you faire freend, tell me what you are. What soeuer I am, quoth she, I loue you exceedingly, as one that freely giues her selfe to you. In sooth, replyed the King, I very gladly would knowe your [Page 192] name. You trouble me, said the Lady, with this importu­nitie, yet can I vse no other continence then you see. But it were necessary, quoth the King, I should knowe your name, if you meane to be my freend. Seeing you constraine me there-to, answered the Lady, knowe that I am the Counties Daughter, who hath so fréendly entertained you. Now trust me Madame, replyed the King, you must hold me excused, for I had rather dye, then abuse the man I am so much beholding too. Will you then refuse mée? quoth she, well may you bée tearmed the wurst nurtured Prince in the world, in denying the conquest, which all your life time you might haue fayled of. You may speake your pleasure, answered the King, but I will doo what is conuenient for your honor and mine, and not offend in so foule a manner. I shall, quoth she, cause my father to think himselfe more iniuried by you, then if you graunt what I desire. So starting frō the bed, she tooke the Kings Swoord, (euen the same which was afterward found with Amadis, when he was taken vp on the Sea) and drawing it foorth, she set the point against her heart, saying. Now shall my Fathers life be shortened by my death, whereof you are the only cause. As she vttered these woords, she offered to stab her selfe with the Swoord: when the King suddenly staying her hand, and meruailing at her impacient loue, thus replyed. Hurt not your selfe Madame, for I am con­tent to satisfye your will. Héereupon he kindly embraced and kissed her, passing the night with her in such sort, as her hot desire was quallifyed, and at that instant she conceiued with child: the King little thinking thereon, for the next morning he tooke his leaue of her and the Countie, retur­ning with all spéed he could into Gaule. But the time of de­liuerance drawing on, and she (desirous to couer her of­fence) determined to goe visite an Aunt of hers, whose dwelling was not past two or three miles off, and many times she resorted thither for her pleasure. So taking no other company with her but a Damosell, as she rode [Page] through the Forrest, the payne of trauaile made her a­light from her Palfray, she being soone after deliuered of a goodly Sonne. The Damosell that was with her, séeing what had happened, bringing the child to the mother, said. Madame, as your heart serued you to commit the offence, so must it now practise some present remedie, while I re­turne from your Aunt againe. Then getting on horsse­back, she rode apace to her Ladyes Aunt, and acquainted her with the whole matter: which caused the old woman to bée very sorrowfull, yet she prouided succour for her Niece, sending a Litter with all conuenient speed, wherein the Lady and her child were brought to her Castell secret­ly, euery thing being so cunningly handled, as the Countie neuer knewe his Daughters fault. After such time as these matters require, the Lady returned home to her Father, leauing her Sonne in her Aunts custodie, where he was nourished till the age of eighteen yeeres, hauing Squires and Gentlemen attending on him, who dayly enstructed him in managing Armes, and all braue quallities besee­ming a man of value. He being growen of goodly stature, the old Lady brought him one day to y^e Countie his Grand­father, who gaue him his Knighthood, not knowing what he was: and returning againe with his motherly Nursse, by the way she brake with him in this maner. My Sonne, I am certaine you are ignorant of your parentage, but cre­dit my woords, you are the Sonne to King Perion of Gaule, begotten on his Daughter that gaue you your order of Knighthood: endeuour your selfe therefore to follow your Fathers steps, who is one of the most renowmed Knights in the world. Madame, quoth Florestan, oftentimes haue I heard great fame of King Perion, but neuer imagined my selfe to be his Sonne: wherefore I vow to you, being my long and carefull Nursse, that I will trauaile to finde my Father, and not make my selfe knowen to any one, till my deedes declare me woorthy to be his Sonne. Not long af­ter, he departed from the old Lady, and accompanyed with [Page 193] two Squires, iournyed to Constantinople, which at that time was greatly vexed with warre, where he remained the space of foure yeeres, perfourming such hautie deedes of Chiualrie, as he was counted the best Knight in all those partes. When he perceiued himselfe in some account, he intended to visit Gaule, and make himselfe knowen to the King his Father: but comming into great Brittayne, he heard the fame of Amadis to be meruailous, which was the cause of his stay there, to win some report by Armes, as his bretheren had done, whome he longed to acquaint himselfe withall. At length he met with them both in the Forrest, as you heard, and afterward combatted with his brother Galaor, which caused their aboad at the Castell of Corisanda, vntill such time as their wounds were healed.

But now let vs returne to Amadis and Agraies, who stayed with faire Briolania fiue dayes together, preparing their Armour and euery thing in order: which béeing doon, they set forward on their way, accompanied with Briola­nia, her Aunte, certaine waiting Gentle-women, and Squires to doo them seruice by the way. When they drew néere the Realme of Sobradisa, they came to the Castell of an ancient Lady named Galumba, who some-tune liued in Briolanias Fathers Courte, and there they were welcom­med very honourablye: yet whether Briolania trauayled thus accompanied, the olde Lady Galumba could not chuse but meruaile, which made her request to be satisfied therin. Briolanias Aunte tolde her, how Amadis was one of the best Knightes in the worlde, and had promised to reuenge the murdered Kings death: likewise how he discomfited them that guarded the Chariot, and afterward ouer-came the rest in the Castell, at what time the Lyons escaped, as you haue heard. Galumba wondering at such singuler prowesse, answered. If he be such a one as you make reporte, his companion must néeds be of some estimation, and wel may they bring your enterprise to end, considering the trueth and iustice of the cause: but take héed least the traiter [...]us [Page] King woorke some treason against them. That is the chée­fest pointe of my feare, answered Briolania, wherfore we came to craue your aduise héerin. Héer-upon she wrot a let­ter, and sealed it with the Princesses seale at Armes, then calling a Damosell, after she had giuen her instructions, she bad her make haste in deliuering the letter. Presentlye went the Damosell to horsse-back, and trauailed so speedi­ly, that she arriued at the great Cittie of Sobradisa, which the whole Realme tooke this name by. There was Abi­seos with his two Sonnes Darison and Dramis, and these thrée must the combate be waged withall: for Abiseos slew the Father of Briolania, by couetous desire he had to the Crowne, which he euer since vsurped and helde, more by tirannie then any consent in the subiectes. The Damosell entred the Pallace on horsse-back, when diuers Knightes came to her, requesting her to alight: but she made answer she would not, till she saw y^e King, and that he commaun­ded her to leaue her palfray. Soon after came the King, ac­companied with his two sonnes and many great Lordes, and after she had saluted him, he boldely bad her say what she would. My Lord, quoth she, I shall fulfill your com­maund, on condition I may abide in your protection, and receiue no iniurie for any thing I say. By my Crown, said the King, I warrant your safetie: wher-upon the Damo­sell thus began. Sir, my Lady and Mistresse Briolania dis­inherited by you, gréets you with this letter, which may o­penly be read before this royall company, and I after-ward receiue answere for my discharge. When the King heard the name of Briolania, remorse of conscience touched him with the wrong he did her: yet was the letter openly read, which was to giue credit to the Damoselles woordes. The most of the Lordes there present, who sometime were sub­iectes to the slaughtered King, seeing the messenger of their lawfull Quéene indéed: pittyed she was so vniustly disinhe­rited, & in their harts desired of God, to plague the treason doone to her Father. Proceede Damosell, quoth the King, [Page 194] and let vs heare your message. My Lord, said she, by trea­son you murdered my Ladyes father, and vniustly keep her from her inheritaunce, wherfore according to your former promise, which you haue not once but often times made, that you with your two Sonnes would maintaine by Armes, the right you pretend to haue in this Realme: she sendes you woord by me, if still you stand vpon such triall, she will bring two Knightes hither, who shall in combate maintaine her cause, making you know your disloyaltye and treason committed. Darison eldest sonne to the King, hearing his Father menaced in this sorte, grew into great choller, and as one mooued with despight, he arose, when (without the Kinges consent) he thus spake. Damosell, if your Mistresse Briolania haue two Knights with her, men resolued to fight on her behalfe: héere doo I accept the com­bate for my Father and Brother, and if I faile, I promise in the presence of all these Lordes, to send her my head in requitall of her Fathers, whose death was not accompli­shed without great reason. In sooth Sir Darison, answered the Damosell, you speak as a Knight of hautie minde, yet may I doubt these woordes to procéed from choller, because I discerne an alteration in your countenaunce: but if you will request the King to confirme your speeches, I shall thinke your proffer came from a hart of courage. This an­swere Damosell, quoth he, may you boldely make her that sent you hither. Cause then his Maiestie, saide the Damo­sell, to giue my Ladies Knightes assuraunce, that for any mishap you may receiue in the combate, they shall sustaine no iniurie, nor be medled withall but by you three: and if you purchase them such a safe-conduit, they shall be heere within thrée dayes at the vtter-most. Darison falling on his knée before the King, saide. You heare (my Lord) the Da­moselles demaund, and the promise I haue made before your Maiestie, in the presence of al these great Princes and Lordes: humbly therfore I beséeche you, séeing my honor is yours, that both you and all the rest will confirme her [Page] request, otherwise, to our great disaduauntage, the presuming Knightes, who dare aduenture in the cause of foolishe Briolania, will imagine them-selues conquerours, and vs dismaied fainte harted cowardes: hauing openlye published, that if any one will touche your illustrious re­nowne for matters past, by the combate of vs three you in­tend to be purged. And albeit you would make them no such promise, yet ought not we to refuse them, for as I vn­derstand, they be some foolishe Knightes of King Lisuarts Courte, who by their ouer-wéening & aspiring thoughtes, make high account of their owne déedes in the contempte of others. The King who loued Darison as him self, though the death of his brother condemned him culpable, and ther­by made him feare the combat: graunted thē safe-conduit, according as the Damosell requested for the two Knights, and such as came in their company. Héere is to be conside­red, that the period of this traitours fortune was now limitted, and the iust auenger of all wronges, pointed out reward for the treason of him and his sonnes, as in this discourse may be euidently séene.

The Damosell séeing her message had taken such effect as she desired, said vnto them: Make your selues readie, for to morrow without faile shall this difference be disci­ded. So mounting on her Palfray, she returned to the Ca­stell of Galumba, where béeing arriued, before the Knights and Ladyes, she reported her answere: but when she told them, that Darison reputed them foolish Knights of King Lisuarts Court, they were so offended, as Amadis entred into th [...]se spéeches. By God, there are such in company of that good King, as can easily abate the pride of Darison, and humble his head so lowe as they list: but I thinke his choller ouer-maistred him, when he vttered woords of such great indiscretion. Trust me my Lord, answered Briolania, you cannot say or doo so much against these traytours, as they iustly deserue. You knowe what villainie they did to the King my Father, and how long time they haue disin­herited [Page 195] me: let pittie then preuaile on my behalfe, seeing in God and you I haue reposed my selfe, with assured hope of sufficient reuenge. Amadis, whose heart was submisse to vertue and all gentlenes, mooued with compassion, sayd. Madame, if God be so pleased, ere to morrow at night, your sorrow and sadnes, shall be conuerted into pleasure and content. Heerupon they concluded, to set forward ve­rie early the next morning, which made them depart to their chambers, except Briolania, who sate conferring with Amadis on many matters, when oftentimes she thought to motion mariage betwéene him and her: but suspecting by his continuall sighes, as also the teares streaming from his eyes, that some other Lady was cause of these passions, she kept silence, and taking her leaue, bad him good night. On the morrow they goe all to horsseback, and comming to the Citty of Sobradisa, their arriuall was verie welcome to many, who séeing the Daughter of their late soueraigne Lord, and knowing the monstrous trecherie of his brother, they instantly desired her prosperous successe, because they bare her singuler affection. Abiseos remembring the wrong he had done her, and his bloody treason so vnnaturally com­mitted, seemed terrified in countenance, because the woorme of conscience reuiued his heinous offence: yet hauing been so long obstinate and indurate in his sinne, thought for­tune would now assure his quietnes, & confirme his state to continue in tranquilitie. But when he sawe how the people flocked about her, not shewing any reuerence to him & his Sonnes, albeit they were royally accompanyed with Lords, he exclaimed on them in this maner. Ah wret­ched and bad minded people, I see what comfort you take by the presence of this Girle, and how your sences are ca­ryed away with her: now may I well iudge, you rather could accept her as your Soueraigne, she being a woman not capable of such an office, then I y^t am a hardy Knight. Her weakenes you may note, because she hath in so long time gotten but two Knights, who are come to receiue an [Page] ignominious death, which in sooth I cannot chuse but pitty. When Amadis heard these taunting woords, he was so en­raged, as if the blood would haue gushed from his eyes, and raising himselfe on his stirrops, that euery one might heare him, he thus answered. Abiseos, it may be easily discerned, that the arriuall of the Princesse is scant pleasing to thée, in respect of thy horrible treason committed, murdering her father thy eldest brother: but if thou haue any feeling of vertue, and art repentant for thy foule misdéed, yéeld to her what thou hast vniustly vsurped, so shall I discharge thée of the combate: prouided, thou aske God forgiuenes, and vse such repentance as beseemeth a sinne so hainous, that by loosing honor in this world, thou mayst seeke the saluatiō of thy soule héereafter. Darison prouoked to anger by these speeches, anaunced himselfe, and before his father had leysure to reply, he preuented him in this manner. Thou foolish Knight of King Lisuarts Court, hardly can I endure thy iniurious woords to my father in my presence: but I am content to deferre them, till we proceede to the effect of thy demaund, then shall I take such vengeance for them as I desire, for when thy heart shall faint in time of need, weening to saue thy life by flight: if thou make not good haste I will so chastise thee, as eche one shall pittie thy miserable estate. This is too long a processe, said Agraies, to defend thy fathers treason withall, goe arme thy selfe, and come to the combate as thou didst promise, then shalt thou sée if fortune be so fauourable, to giue thee the victorie which thou reckonest assured: if she doo otherwise, per­swade thy selfe, [...]oth thou and thine shall haue the meed of your wicked deseruing. Say what thou wilt, answered Darison, ere long thy imurious tongue puld from thy head, shall be sent to the Court of thy maister King Lisuart, that such as behold thy worthy punishment, may be afraid to hazard the like by their liberall language. So calling for their Armour, the King and his two Sonnes were quickly Armed, then mounting on horsseback, they went to the [Page 196] place appointed for Combats. Where-upon, Amadis and Agraies lacing their Helmets, tooke their Shéelds and Launces, and afterwarde entred the féelde. Then Dra­mis (who was the yongest brother, yet a Knight so vali­ant, as two of the best in that Countrey durste not deale with him in combate) saide to his Father. My Lord, where your Maiestie and my Brother are present, well may I be excused from spéeche, but now effectes must shew it otherwise, by such strength as heauen hath enabled me withall: therfore I desire to trye my fortune with the Knight who hath so wronged you, and if I kill him not at the firste tainte of the Launce, neuer shall Armour come on my back againe: but if I méet him not so right as I desire, he shall haue but little respite of life, for at the firste stroke of my swoord, I will dispatche him. Many heard the woords of yong Dramis, and estéemed highly of his enterprise, nor did they greatly doubt the perfourmaunce, considering what déedes of armes they had séene him accomplish. Now place they their Launces in their rests, and Dramis prepa­red him selfe against Amadis, who met him so full in the carrire, as his hart brake in his belly, and he fel to y^e ground so waightely, as if it had beene the fall of an Ore. Get thee to all the Deuilles, saide Dardan the Dwarffe, my maister is very wel rid of thee: but me thinks his threatning hath lighted on him selfe, which commonly falles out so with such great crakers. Agraies and Darison brake their Laun­ces in the encounter, but no other harme happened be­twéene them as yet. When Abiseos saw his sonne Dramis was dead, he was meruailously displeased and intended to reuenge his death on Amadis, wher-upon he gaue foorth to méete him, and piercing his Launce thorowe the Prin­ces sheelde, gaue him a sore hurt on the arme, which made the beholders doubt, that Amadis could holde out no lon­ger. If then the young Princesse Briolania was dismaide, it were in vain to demaund the question: for now her hart dreaded further mishap: but he who could not be daunted [Page] with common woundes, drew the Swoord which he reco­uered from Arcal [...]us, giuing Abiseos such a sound greeting ther-with on the head, as made him coutche his neck to his shoulders, and the Swoord sliding downe vpon his right arme, gaue him a wound to the very bone, by meanes wherof Abiseos found him selfe so distressed and amazed, that he fell downe from his horsse as it were in a traunce. Now did the people meruaile not a little, to sée Amadis at two strokes ouerthrowe two such puissant Knights, estee­med among them the best in the world: but Amadis behol­ding no other resistance, returned to Darison who fought with Agraies, they behauing themselues so manfully a­gainst eche other, as the people thought they neuer sawe a brauer combate. At length Abiseos recouered againe, and seeing his Sonne Darison in danger of his life, came to as­sist him, giuing Agraies such a wound in the throat, as his Cozin thought he had beene slaine out-right: but soone did he requite Abiseos for it, by seperating his wounded arme from his body, euen the same arme where-with he killed the King his brother, which made him fall downe dead to the ground, where-upon Amadis called to him, saying. A­biseos, this is punishment in member, whereby thou didst thrust thy selfe into the Crowne, and now hast receiued death according to thy desert. Then he turned about to helpe Agraies, but he met him with the head of Darison in his hand: wherat all the people gaue a great shoute, and humbled them-selues to Briolania as their lawfull Queen. This was the end of the wretched Father and his sonnes, seruing at this day for an example to such as shamefullye vsurpe the right of others: which though they enioy for a small season, yet when the God of power letteth loose his arrowes against them, they fall into open and detested ru­ine. Let euery man therfore set before his eyes, that no e­uill remaineth vnpunished, and the end concludeth these two principles, the eternall beatitude of y^e celestiall soules, and the mercilesse excruciamentes of miserable damned [Page 197] creatures. Thus see you what lot fell to Abiseos and his children, vsurping the Kingdome by homicide and tiranny, euen by the death of his owne naturall Brother: therfore heauen repaied him with a miserable end, by the conque­ring Swoord of Amadis and Agraies, who dragged them along out of the feelde, demaunding if any other would with-stand the right of Briolania. By one of the cheefest Lordes in the countrynamed Goman, they were answered, she had no more enemies to gain-say her, which he testified with an hundred Knights of his owne kinred: all the peo­ple béeing there ready to receiue their Quéen Briolania, and doo her homahe as beseemed faithfull subiectes. Héer-upon, Amadis and Agraies conducted the newe Quéene to the Pallace royall, where they were presently vnarmed, and Chirurgions cōmaunded to attend their wounds: in mean while Briolania was confirmed in the regiment, by a gene­rall oath of the subiects taken to their Soueraigne, with such ioy as neuer was the like in Sobradisa. But because the two Knightes were very sore wounned, and their hurtes found to be some-what dangerous, all sports and pastimes accustomed at such solemnitie, were referred till the time of their recouerie: which to compasse the sooner, their lod­ginges were appointed in seuerall chambers, that none might trouble them with tedious talking, least a continu­all feuer▪ should come vpon them. Not-with-standing, Briolania, as one not ingratefull for the good she receiued by them, would not departe from them either day or night, but only at the time of repast: so that by her kinde and dil­ligent attendance, the danger of their sicknesse was expel­led the sooner. Sée héere the true and certaine historye, for what is saide more, concerning the loue of Amadis and this Princesse, hath béen inuented and falsely feigned, according as I haue said before: therfore we will ceasse, seeing heer it goes no further, vntill the contrary may apparantlye be knowen, as in the history following is declared.

GAlaor and Florestan béeing at the Castell of Corisanda, as you haue heard, they soiourned there til their woundes were healed: afterward they concluded on their departure, to seeke Amadis in the Realm of So­bradisa, desiring they might come thither before the beginning of the combate, to haue parte of the perrill in fight, and glory in conquest. But when Florestan should take leaue of his Lady, her gréefe and teares vnspeakable, able to moue ruthe in a hart of flint, although Florestan assured her of his spéedie returne. Not-with-standing all these mones, forward they set to the Realme of Sobradisa, Flore­stan, crauing a boone of his brother by the way, to wit? that he would not combate on y^e way for any thing which might happen, vntill he were able to holde out no longer. With much a doo he obtained his request, and so rode they on foure daies together, not méeting with any aduenture woorthye the rehearsall: but toward Sunne setting they met a Knight hard by a Tower, who intreated them earnestlye to lodge there that night, which gentle offer they accepted, and entring with the Knight, they conferred on many mat­ters till supper was ready. The Knight was of comelye stature, and well spoken, but his countenaunce was so sad and melancholly, as Galaor began thus to question with him. He thinkes Sir you are not so merry as you should be, but if we may any way helpe your pensiuenes, tell vs, and you shal finde vs willing to perfourme it. I beléeue as­suredlye, [Page 198] quoth their hoste, that like good Knightes you would doo as you say, but my sadnes is caused thorowe ex­treame loue, a matter not to be reuealed, and therfore the rather to be pardoned. So sat they downe to supper, which béeing ended, Galaor and his brother were conducted to their chamber, where they reposed them-selues til the next morning: whē mounting on horsse-back, their hoste would accompanye them a little on the way, and calling for his Iennet, but putting on no Armour, he rideth with them: this did he to sée what should happen to them, because in the way he guided them, he hoped to sée some proofe of their man-hood, when if they were vanquished or slaine, he might the more easily escape from them.

Not farre had they trauailed, but they came to a place called the fountaine of Oliues, because in the middest of the water grewe thrée high Oliue trées. Heereby they es­pyed thrée beautifull Damosels, and a Dwarffe sitting a­loft in one of the trées: whereupon Florestan saluted them very courteously, as one not to learne his behauiour to­ward Ladyes, then one of the Damosels requiting his sa­lutation, said. Sir Knight, if heauen hath endued you with as great bountie as comely perfection, no doubt but you are sufficiently enriched. Faire Damosell, answered Flo­restan, if my outward appearance doth please you, my in­ward vertue you may try if you haue any néed. You speak so kindly, quoth she, that I will presently make proofe of your valour, to see if you can cary me hence frō this place. In sooth Lady, replyed Florestan, if of your selfe you be wil­ling to goe, I knowe no reason to the contrary why you should not. Héerewith he commaunded the Squire to set her on a Palfray, which was tyed (ready furnished) at one of the Oliue trées: but when the Dwarffe behelde it, he cryed out aloud: Come foorth Sir Knight, come foorth, for heere is one will cary away your fréend. Presently came out of a valley a Knight brauely prauncing, and well ar­med, who said to Florestan: What mooues you Sir to touch [Page] my Lady? I cannot thinke she is yours, answered Flore­stan, seeing she intreateth me to cary her hence away. Al­beit she would, quoth the Knight, yet I think it not at this time so conuenient, because I haue defended her from bet­ter then you are. I know not how well you haue defended her, replyed Florestan, but she shall go with me if I can help it. By God Sir, answered the other, you must first talke with the Knights of this vale, and féele how safely they can kéepe such as they loue. So placing their Launces in their rests, they ran couragiously against eche other, the Knight breaking his staffe: but Florestan smote his shéeld so strong­ly against his Helmet, as the lace brake, and his head was bare, but wurst of all, he fell so heauily vpon his Swoord, that with his weight it broke in two pieces. Florestan fini­shed his carrire, hauing his Launce whole and sound, when turning againe to the Knight, he sawe that he mooued nei­ther hand or foot, wherfore punching him with his Launce vpon the stomack, said: Palliard, thou art dead, if thou yéeld not. The Knight being recouered from traunce, and beholding the present daunger of his life, desired mer­cie: which Florestan graunted, so he would fréelye resigne the Damosell. She is at your pleasure, replyed the Knight, but curssed be the hower when first I sawe her. For by her follyes she hath oftentimes endaungered my life. Florestan leauing him, came to the Damosell, saying: Faire Lady, now you are mine. You haue so nobly wun me Sir, quoth she, as I remaine at your disposition. As they were depar­ting thence, one of the other Damosels thus spake: Alas Sir, will you seperate so good companie? it is a yeere and more since we haue liued together, and we would be lothe now to part in this manner. If you please to accompany her, answered Florestan, I can be content to conduct you to­gether: and more I hope you will not request, because I meane not to leaue my conquest. I thinke my selfe not so foule, replyed the other Damosell, but some good Knight may enterprise as great an aduenture for me: mary it is [Page 199] to be doubted, whether such hardines remaine in you or no. Why Lady? quoth Florestan, thinke you that feare can make me leaue yee? I promise you on my faith, but that I would not forcibly cary you away, you should presently goe with me: but if your will be so good, let my Squire help you vp on your hackney. Which she did, and the Dwarffe cryed againe as he did for the first, whereupon another Knight came immediatly foorth, and after him a Squire bearing two Launces, the Knight vsing these words to Florestan. You haue (Sir) already wun one Lady, and (not content with her) you séeke for another: but now in one instant you must loose them both, and your head I doubt to kéepe them company, because you being of no better race, are vnwoorthy a Lady of so high calling. Thou vaun­test very much, answered Florestan, yet haue I two Knights of my lignage, whome thou, nor thrée such as thou art, may be thought woorthy to serue. Thy commen­dations extend very far, said y^e Knight, yet am I to meddle with none but thee, who hast got a Lady from him that could not defend her: but she must be mine if I conquer thee, else by vanquishing me, thou shalt be maister of them bothe together. Now thou speakest reason, quoth Flore­stan: defend thy Lady well, or without doubt she will fall to my share. So giuing the spurres to their horsses, they committed this controuersie to be tryed by the Launce, when though the Prince failed in the first race, and the o­ther brake his staffe very manfully: yet (being angry at his mishap) at the second course he sent the Knight so vio­lently to the ground, as he thought euery bone of him was broken in pieces. Thus was he safely possessed of the se­cond Damosell, and very lothe he was to leaue the third there alone, but she beholding their hoste that conducted them thither, spake to him in this manner. My fréend, I would aduise ye to be gone, because you knowe these two Knights can not resist him will presently come: then if you be taken, you are sure to dye the death. Beleeue me Lady, [Page] quoth he, I meane now to sée the end of all, for my horsse is quick of pace, and my Tower strong enough to defende me from him. Well, looke to your selues, said the Dam­sell, you be but thrée, and one of you vnarmed, but if he were, it might not auaile him. When Florestan heard how she praised him that was to come, he was more desirous to cary her away then before, only because he would haue a sight of him, and therefore bad his Squire set her on horsse­back as he did the other, when the Dwarffe in the Oliue trée deliuered these woords. Beléeue me Sir Knight, in an euill hower came this boldnes on you, for presently com­meth one who will reuenge his companions. Foorth of the vale came a Knight in gilt Armour, mounted on a lustie bay courser, the man resembling a Giant in proportion, and reputed to be of incredible strength. After him follo­wed two Squires armed, eche of them carying a hatchet in his hand, and so soone as he came néere Florestan, he thus spake. Stay Knight and flye not, for by flight thou art not able to saue thy life, better is it for thée to dye like a good Knight then a coward, especially when by cowardise thou canst not escape. Florestan hearing such menaces of death, contemning likewise as a man of no value, incenced with anger, he returned this answere. Monster, beast, Deuill, or whatsoeuer thou art, reason I see thou wantest: so little do I estéeme thy prodigall woords, that I thinke thou hast no better weapons to fight withall. I gréeue, said the Knight, that I cannot haue my fill in reuenge on thee, but I would foure of the best of thy linage were heere with thée, for me to slice off their heads as I will doo thine. Looke to thine owne thou were best, answered Florestan, for I hope I am sufficient to excuse them, and be their Lieute­nant in this matter on thée. Thus sundring them-selues, in rage and fury they méet together, that the beating of their horsses hooues made the earth to groane, and the breache of their Launces made a terrible noise: but the great Knight lost his stirrops, and had fallen to the [Page 200] grounde, if by catching holde about his horsse necke hée had not escaped. As Florestan helde on his course, he caught a hatchet from one of the Squires, where-with he smote him quite beside his horsse: and by time hée re­turned, the Knight had recouered his seate againe, and the hatchet which the other Squire helde. Now beginnes a dreadfull combate betwéene them, such cruell strokes be­ing giuen at ech other with their hatchets, as though their helmets were of right trusty steele, yet they cut and man­gle them very pittifully. Many times was Florestan enfor­ced to staggering, by the mighty blowes of his monstrous enemie, yet at length the Prince smote at him so furiously as he was faine to lye along vpon his horsse neck, when re­doubling his stroake betwéene the helmet and the brigan­dine he parted his head from his shoulders. Beeing thus conquerour of all the Damsells, and they not a little mer­uailing at this strange victorie, the Knight who had béene their hoste the night before, spake to Florestan. My Lord, this Damosell haue I long time looued, and she me with like affection, but for the space of this yéere and more, the great Knight (whom last you slewe) hath forcibly detayned her: yet béeing now recouered by your woorthy prowesse, I beseech ye Sir, I may enioy her againe. If it be so as you say, answered Florestan, my paines haue stood you in some stéede at this time, but against her will, neither you or any other can get her from me. Alas my Lord, quoth the Da­mosell, no one but he hath right to my loue, then sunder not them that should liue together. Nor will I, saide Florestan, you are Lady at your own libertie, and may departe with your fréende when you please. They bothe requited him with manifolde thankes, then taking leaue of Galaor and Florestan, the Knight rides home ioyfully with his new con­quered Lady. The other two Damselles desired the Prin­ces, to accompany them to their Auntes house which was not far of, Galaor questioning with them by the way, why they were kept in such sorte at the fountaine, wher-to one [Page] of the Damselles thus replyed. Understand my Lord, that the great Knight who was slaine in the combate, loued the Lady which your hoste caryed away with him, but she de­spised him aboue all other, fancying no other then him who now enioyes her. But in respecte this Knight was so pu­issant, as none in this countrhy durst contend with him, he kepte her violentlye whether she would or no, yet offering her no iniurye, because he loued her déerely, and one day a­mong other he thus spake to her. Faire Mistresse, to the end I may compasse your gentle affection, and be estéemed of you the only Knight in the worlde, listen what I wil doo for your sake. There is a Knight named Amadis of Gaule, accounted y^e only man for valour this day liuing, who s [...]ew a Cozin of mine in the Courte of King Lisuart, a Knight of great fame called Dardan the proude: him (for your sake) will I séeke, and by cutting off his head, conuerte all his glorye to mine owne commendation. But till I compasse what I haue saide, these two Ladies, (meaning vs) and these two Knightes of my linage shall attend on you, and eche day conduct you to the fountaine of Oliues, which is the only passage for Knightes errant through this country: if any dare be so bolde to cary you thence, there shall you sée many braue combates, and what the honor of your loue can make me doo, to cause the like opinion in you to­wardes me, as your diuine perfections haue wrought in me to you. Thus were we taken and giuen to the two Knightes who were first dismounted, and with them we haue abode y^e space of one whole yéere, in which time many combates they fought for vs, yet neuer conquered till this present. In sooth Lady, answered Galaor, the Knightes in­tent was too high for him to accomplish, because he could not deale with Amadis, and escape the fortune now fallen vpon him: but how was he named? He called himselfe A­limias, quoth ashe, nd had not ouer-wéening pride too much ruled him, he was a most gentle and courteous Knight. By this time were they come to their Auntes Castell, [Page 201] where Galaor and Florestan found gracious entertainment, the olde Lady being very glad to see her Nieces, as also to vnderstand the death of Alimias.

After they had taken leaue of the fréendly Ladyes, they iourney toward the Realm of Sobradisa, where they heard before they entred the Cittie, how Amadis and Agraies had slaine Abiseos and his sonnes, by meanes wherof, Brio­lania ruled as a peaceable Quéen, which newes highly con­tented them, and made them reioyce for their happie for­tune. To the Pallace they come vnknowne of any, till they were brought to Amadis and Agraies, whose wounds were already indifferently recured, and they deuising with the Queene at their arriuall. Heer you must note, how the Damosell that conducted Galaor to finde Florestan, left them after the Combate, and comming before to her Mistresse, tolde her and Amadis, how Galaor and Florestan knew eche other, and what issue their combate had: which made A­madis very kindely to embrace them bothe, and Florestan of­fered on his knee to kisse his hand, which Amadis would not permit, but causing him to arise, sat down and communed of their aduentures yast. But one day among other, the new enstalled Quéene Briolania, after many honourable feastinges she had made them, séeing these foure Knightes determined to departe, considering the good she had recei­ued by Amadis and Agraies, and that she (being before a disinherited Princesse) was by their meanes restored to her Kingdome: beholding likewise the whéele of Fortune turned, & how such personages were not alone to aid and defend her countrey, but puissant enough of them-selues to be Kinges and mighty Lordes: falling on her knees before them, first rendering thankes to God, who had doone her such grace as to regarde her in pittie, continuing her dis­course, she saide. Think my Lordes, these mutations are the meruailes of the Almightye, which are admirable to vs and helde of great account, but to him they are (in man­ner) nothing. Let vs see if it be good then to shunne Signo­ries [Page] and riches, which to obtaine we take such paine and trauaile, and to keepe, endure innumerable anguishes and distresse: as superfluous therfore vtterly to deiect thē, because they are torments of bodie and soule, vncertaine and haue no permanence. As for my selfe, I say no, but af­firme, that they beeing lawfully gotten, modestly vsed, and according to Gods appointment: they are in this worlde, rest, pleasure and ioy, and the way to bring vs to eternall glory.