CHAP. I.

Of whence the Kings Garinter and Perion were, and the Combate betweene Perion and two Knights, as alſo how he fought with a Lyon that deuoured a Hart in their preſence: with the ſucceſſe following thereon.

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 highly adorned with many laudable vertues: hauiug a Noble Ladye to his Wife, by whome he had two beautifull Daughters. The eldeſt (beeing maried with Languines King of Scotts,) was commonly called the Lady of the Garland: becauſe the King her Huſband, taking great pleaſure to behold 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 Queene, Agrates and Mabila, of whom this preſent Hiſtory often maketh mentiō. The other yongeſt Daughter to this King Garinter, was named Eliſena, very much excelling the eldeſt in beauty, & though ſhe had been oftētimes deſired in mariage, by ſundry Princes and great Lords: yet as then ſhe had no wil thereto, but for her ſolitary 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 being ſumewhat in yeeres, for recreatiō tooke pleaſure in Hunting, whē at one time amōg other it happened, that hauiug appointed a meeting neure one of his Cities called Alyma, a Hart was put forth, in purſuite whereof himſelfe wandred very farre: wherefore ſeeing he had loſt both his people and game, commending himſelfe to God, he began to make ſumwhat the more haſt, til hauing trauerſed firſt one way and then another, at the very entrance into a Wood, he ſaw two Knights fighting againſt one. Soone had he knowledge of the twaine, in that they were his owne Subiects, of whome he had heard ſundry complaintes: but ſlender order was taken in the cauſe, by reaſon of the great alliance they had in the Country, as alſo for that they kept themſelues ſtill in this greatforreſt. 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: wherefore he withdrew himſelfe 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 vanquiſhed and ſlaine. The King beholding what had happened, came forth of the Wood, when the Knight ſeeing one ſo neere him alone, thus demaunded. Gentle Sir, what Country is this, where Knightes errant arc thus aſſayled by robbers and theeues; Let this be no wonder to you Sir, anſwered the King, for this Country yeelds as others doe, both good and bad: as for them that thus aſſaulted you, they haue done diuers & villainous outrages, not only in this Wood, which hath been their accuſtomed receptacle: but likewiſe in many other places, and cheefely againſt their Lord & King, who could not execute iuſtice on them, in that they were allyed to the beſt houſes in this Realme. And where may I find the King you ſpeake of; ſaid the Knight, for I am come to ſeeke him, to bring him newes from a great friend of his. Happen what ſhall, anſwered Garinter, I will tell ye ſo much as I know: vnderſtand then for a truth, that I am the man you aske for. At theſe words the Knight tooke off his Helmet, and throwing downe his Sheeld, ran to embrace him: ſaying that he was King Perion of Gaule, who of long time had been deſirous to know him. Greatly were theſe Kings contented, that their meeting was in ſuch fortunate manner, and conferring together on many matters, they tooke the waye through the Wood toward the Citie, where they thought to find the Hunters: but ſuddenly a Hart ranne before them, which with ſome danger had eſcaped the toyles: wherefore the Princes gallopped after the Deere, hoping to kil 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 ſeazed on the Hart, and hauing with his ſtrong pawes torne it in peeces, turned againe, when running furiouſly againſt the two Princes, he watched his aduantage, as if they had angred him, which the King Perion perceiuing, in laughter ſaide. You ſhall not be ſuch a glutton, maiſter Lyon, but you ſhall leaue vs parte of the game. And herewith preſently he alighted, becauſe his Horſe would not come nere the beaſt, ſo drawing his Swoord, and claſping his ſheeld on his arme, not regarding the cryes of King Garinter, who laboured to diſſwade him from the attempt, he marched to the Lyon, who for defence of his pray, ran eagerly againſt the King, and ſo betweene them began a new warre. But the Lyon being quicke and nimble, did ſo much as he got his enemy vnder him, yet was the Kinges heart ſo good, that albeit he was in very great perill of his perſon, he was not abaſhed one iotte: but turned himſelfe in ſuch ſorte, as he thruſt his Swoord into the belly of the beaſt, which at that inſtant fel downe dead before him. The King ſeeing what had happened, was ſo ouercome with meruailing at this deed as he ſaid within him ſelfe. In ſooth it is no ſhame to renowne one of the beſt Knights 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 Veniſon laid on two horſes, and caryed to the Citie, where the Queene was immediatly aduertiſed of king Perions arriuall, and therefore made ſpeedy prouiſion of all things neceſſarye, to welcome and feaſte ſo great a Prince. At their coming they found Dinner ready, and the tables couered: wherfore (after the welcomes and reuerences done on all ſides) the two kinges ſat downe, ſo did the Queene, and faire Eliſena her Daughter. Now had loue ſecretly ambuſhed himſelfe, 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 quick, and thence forwarde hold a ſure conqueſt of her. The like in king Perion, who thought of nothing but a friendly entertainment, yet when he caſt his eye on the Lady Eliſena, & ſhe in like ſorte vpon him: by vertue of this pearcing regarde, her wonted chaſte and holye life had no longer power to priuiledge this Princeſſe, but ſhe was wonderfully thralled in extreame loue to this yong king, and he in ſelfe ſame manner to her, albeit till that hower, he had his hart francke and free, without ſubiection in any other place. In this ſorte during dinner tyme, they found themſelues (for each other) in a ſtrange opinion, till the tables were with drawen, whē the Queene would departe to her Chamber, wherefore Eliſena aroſe to follow her: but as ſhe ſtepped forward, ſhe let fall a Ring 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 thinke on other matters. Now was king Perion ſomewhat neer 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 meete together, as the king had the meane to cloſe her fingers, yet feigning to take vp her Ring. Wherevpon this amourous Lady began to change collour, and (notwithſtanding) by a ſweete regard humbly thanked him. Ah Madame, quoth he, this ſhall not be the laſt ſeruice I hope to doe you, for my whole life time ſhalbe imployed to obey you. Cō ſtrained was Eliſena (without anſwering him) to follow the Queen her mother, ſo ſurprized & altered, as very neere ſhe had forgoten her ſelfe: ſo that not able to endure this new fire of loue (which ſo ſudden & vehemently had conquered her wonted chaſte and choice determination:) with the teares in her eyes, and her hart full of anguiſh, ſhee went and diſcouered the ſame to a faithful Damoſelof hers, named Darioletta, praying her moſt inſtantly to councel her, how ſhe might ſafely know, if King Perion had not elſewhere placed his loue, and whether the affectionate ſemblaunce he had ſhowne her, might proceed from force of that impreſſion, which had ſo lately ſeazed on her hart. The Damoſell meruailing at this ſo ſudden mutatiō, & in a perſon thought ſo farre from any ſuch matter: taking (neuertheleſſe) compaſſion on her piteous teares, thus anſwered. I ſee well Madame, that according to the extreame paſſion, wherewith the tirant Loue hath tormented ye, he hath leſt no place in your iudgement, where counſell or reaſon may be entertained: and therefore following not what I ought for your ſeruice, but the will I haue to obey you, I ſhall do what you haue commaunded me, by the moſt honeſt meanes that my little diſcretiō and 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 garments for his Lord to weare, which the Damoſell tooke of him. For (quoth ſhe) it is neceſſary that I performe this ſeruice, and you (gentle Squire) may goe if you pleaſe about your other affaires. The Squire thinking it was the cuſtome of the Country, made no deniall, but willingly ſuffered her to take the Garments, whereupon ſhe entred the Chamber, where ſhe found the King laid on his bed: who ſeeing her enter, and knowing well it was ſhe, whom he had ſeene to conferre with Eliſena moſt priuatly, & in whom (aboue al other) ſhe put chiefeſt truſt, he thought that ſhe wold not come in that ſort to him, without bringing him ſome remedy for his mortall paſſions, for which cauſe, all in trembling, he ſaid. Faire friend, what demand ye; If it may ſo like you my Lord, quoth ſhe, I haue brought other garments for ye. Much rather would I, ſaid the King, that you had brought ſome comfort to my hart, which at this preſent is left & deſpoyled of all pleaſure. As how my good Lord; anſwered the Damoſell. Thus quoth he. When firſt I arriued in this country, I was free from all paſſions, and doubted nothing but of aduentures that might happen to Knights errand: but now (I know not in what ſort) entring this Court, by ſome one of your Ladyes, haue I receiued a deadly wound, for which if you (faire Damoſell) know 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 ſelfe happy, by doing ſeruice to ſo high a perſonage, and ſo good a Knight as you are, if I could tell wherein. If you wil promiſe me ſaid the King, as you are a loyall Damoſell, not to diſcouer me but where it is requiſite, I ſhall tell ye. Say boldly your pleaſure, anſwered Darioletta, for by me (without your liking) it ſhall not be knowen to any. Damoſell and my friend, quoth he, I giue you to vnderſtand, that at what time I beheld the excellent beauty of Eliſena your Miſtreſſe, I became extreamely tormented with her loue, and in ſuch ſorte, as I cannot excuſe my ſelfe from death, if I find not remedy for my greefe the ſooner. Darioletta (who knew thorowly the mind of the Princeſſe) hearing what the King had ſaide, returned him this anſwer. My Lord, if you will aſſure me by the faith of a King, which before all other things 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 dolour, then you are, by reaſon of the new anguiſh that toucheth her thorow the ſelfe ſame meanes. But if you do not (my Lord) what I haue ſaid, you ſhall not there recouer her, nor ſhall I haue other cauſe then to thinke, that your words proceeded from no loyall hart, nor to credit any thing you ſay hereafter. The King whome loue had already depriued of liberty, to vnite him ſelfe with Eliſena, (to the end that hee might be adorned with the great & gratious fruite, which afterwarde happened, as ſhalbe recited vnto ye,) tooke his Swoord, and ſetting his right hand on the Croſſe there-of, ſaide theſe wordes. I ſweare by this Croſſe, and on this Sword, wherewith I receiued the order of Knighthood, to do what you (faire Damoſell) ſhall commaund mee, at all times, and when ſoeuer your miſtreſſe Eliſena ſhalbe thereto aduiſed. Be you then frollicke & merrye, anſwered Darioletta, for I ſhall likewiſe accompliſh what I haue promiſed. And at that inſtant ſhee returned to the Princeſſe, declaring to her what ſhee had concluded with king Perion, wherewith the amorous Lady was ſo pleaſed, as ſhe had vtterly loſt her former countenance, and inceſſantly embracing Darioletta, thus demaunded. My deere friend, when will the hower come, that I ſhall holde betweene mine armes, my Lord whom thou haſt giuen me? I ſhall tel 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 ſundry times vſed for his recreatiō, & which at this preſent is couered with the cloth of Arras, but I haue the key thereof: wherfore at night when euery one is at reſt, we may eaſily there enter vnſeene of any, and when needfull time of returne cometh, my ſelfe will call ye. When Eliſena heard this deuice, ſhe was highly contented therewith, yet breathing forth a ſighe, ſhe ſaid. Alas my faithfull friend: how ſhall we bring this to paſſe? ſeeing my father is determined to lodge with King Perion: & if he perceiue vs, we ſhalbe both in very great danger. Refer that doubt to me, anſwered Darioletta, & I ſhal eaſily prouide for this matter: wherupon for this time they brake off conference, becauſe the tabels were couered for Supper. And in like manner as the feaſting began in the morning, ſo now it continued, till the tables beeing voyded, each one prepared himſelf to reſt. Now a little before, Darioletta went to King Perions Squire, & thus ſaide to him. Gentle Squire, & my friend I pray ye tel me in good faith, 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 entreat 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. Herein, ſaide the Damoſell will I conſent with ye, for I would not demaund 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 know, who is the Lady he loueth moſt perfectly. 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 ſpeake of.

While they were thus talking, the King Garinter came, who ſeeing Darioletta conferring with King Perions Squire, demanded what ſhee had to do with the Gentleman? In ſooth my Lord quoth ſhe, he telles me that the King his Maiſter is wont to lye alone, and therefore 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 befallen 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, do as ſhall ſeeme beſt to your liking, this anſwer appeared to king Garinter, conformable with that the Damoſell had ſaid, wherefore right ſoone he commaunded his bed to be fetcht from king Perions Chamber. When Darioletta heard there-of, ſhee imagined their affaires would fall out the better, and therefore returned to Eliſena, acquainting her with all that had paſſed betweene the two kinges. In good faith quoth ſhe, I now beleeue, that ſeeing God hath granted ſo good a beginning, our enterpriſe, which at this preſent ſeemeth a great ſin, wil hereafter redound to his ſeruice: but tell me what wee ſhall do? for the great ioy which I haue, hath taken from me the moſt healthfull parte of my iudgement. Madam, ſaid Darioletta, this night will wee execute what we haue determined, ſeeing the doore (whereof you knowe) is certainly open. To my ſelfe I keep it, anſwered Eliſena, & to you only I commit the charge, to prouide when the hower ſhall permit: and ſo they remained attending for the fauourable time.

CHAP. II.

How the Princeſſe Eliſena and her Damoſell Darioletta, went to the Chamber where King Perion was lodged.

THe time being com, when each one moſt commonly betake themſelues to reſt: Darioletta (who for the contentment of her Miſtreſſe, had vſed extreame diligence) came and tolde her. Madame, now is the time to finiſh our enterpriſe, then let vs go if you pleaſe. When Eliſena heard what ſhe ſaide, you muſt thinke ſhe gaue no occaſion to be reproued with ſlothfulnes: but haſtily aroſe, & without tarrying, caſting only a mantle about her ſhoulders, went forward, and afterward they both entred the Garden. The time was then calme & gratious, the Moone faire and ſplendant, giuing cleere light to the two Ladyes: but ſurely the one had more cauſe of content then the other, who gladly would haue taſted this good hap, or ſuch an other for her ſelfe, if ſhe could any way haue compaſt the meane, & ſo much ſhe gaue in outward apearance, as Eliſena perceiued well, that ſhe wanted but the executor to performe the ſame: for Darioletta feeling in her ſpirit, the caſe at hand which ſhee ſhould receiue whom ſhee conducted, could not but very pleſantly ieſt & dally with her Miſtreſſe, breaking many a bitter ſigh among, as though ſhe were to participate in Eliſenaes future good fortune, to whom ſhe ſaide. Alas Madame, how happy is the Prince, by whom this night you ſhall receiue ſuch pleaſure? 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 beene heard of, either in perſonage, good grace or hardines? aſſure thy ſelfe, Darioletta my friend, that I imagine myſelfe ſo happy, as I thinke it is impoſſible for me to be more, & therfore let vs make haſt I praye thee. Theſe words ſhe vttered with ſuch affection, that ſhe trembled like the little leafe on the high tree, and as ſhe ended thoſe ſpeeches, they arriued at the Chamber doore where King Perion was lodged: who (for the ſtrangnes of this new amorous flame, as alſo the hope he had in Darioletta) had not as yet taken any reſt. Neuertheleſſe, beeing as then wearye with trauaile, & ouercome with ſleepe: began (euen as they opened the doore) to ſlumber, and dreamed that one entred his chamber at a falſe dore, without knowledge who it ſhould be: but he thought that he thruſt his hands into his ſides, and rent forth his hart, afterward he ſaw him throw it into the Riuer, when the king ſaide. Wherfore commit ye ſuch cruelty? This is nothing at all anſwered hee that did this outrage, for with you ſhall remaine another hart, which I muſt take from ye againſt my wil. In great feare he ſuddenly awaked, & making the ſigne of the Croſſe, commended himſelfe to God. Now had the Ladyes opened the dore & entred the Chamber, wherfore he hering the noyſe, ſuſpected ſome treaſon, eſpecially by reaſon of his feareful dreame, & lifting vp his head beheld thorow the curtans the dore open, wherof he knew nothing, and afterward by the light of the Moone, he ſaw the ſhadowe of the Ladyes that were entred. For this cauſe in feare he ſtarted out of bed, tooke his Sword, and went to the place where he had ſeene them: but when Darioletta ſaw him ſo affrighted, ſhe ſpake to him in this manner, What ſhalbe done here? Do you draw armes againſt vs, that come to you with ſo ſlender defence? the king who quickly knew them, eſpecially Eliſena whom hee ſo much deſired, threw his Sword to the ground, and caſting a mantle about him which lay neere at hand: in great affection hee came to her, whom he loued better then him-ſelfe, kiſſing, embracing & ſhewing the beſt countenance could be deuiſed, which Darioletta ſeeing, as one iealous and enuious of ſuch fauour, ſaid 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 ſundry aſſaultes: notwithſtanding at this preſent, neither the one or orher 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 Sword, which ſhe took vp, as a witneſſe of the oath and promiſe he made her, concerning the future mariage of Eliſena and himſelfe: then ſhutting the dore after her, ſhe went into the Garden, and ſo the king remained alone with his faire freind, whom (after many amourous embracings, infinite kiſſings, and execution of delights) he behelde, verily perſwading himſelfe, that all the beauty of the world was in her, reputing himſelfe much more then happy, that the heauens had allowed him ſo good an aduenture. See now how it chaunced to this Princeſſe, that for ſo long time, in the cheefeſt flower of her youth, beeing requeſted by ſo many mighty Princes and great Lordes, ſhe had withſtood all, to remaine in the liberty of a Maiden: now won in leſſe ſpace then one day, and at ſuch time as her fancie (in her one thinking) was fartheſt off from ſuch matters.

Thus Loue breaking the ſtrong bandes of her holye and chaſt 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 withdraw their thoughtes from worldly things, & deſpiſing the great beauty wherwith nature hath endowed them, & tender youth, which maketh them ignorant of the pleſures & delights in their Fathers Courts, whereof ſometime they might haue taſted: yeelde themſelues (for ſaluation of their ſoules) in poore and religious houſes, thereto in offering their free will, vowing themſelues to the ſubiectiō of others, hoping to paſſe their time without any renowne or glory of this▪ world. Certes ſuch Ladyes, ought with great ſollicitude to ſtop their eares, cloſe their eyes, and giue themſelues to continuall deuoute contemplatiōs & prayers, accepting them as their true and ſingular paſtimes, as to ſuch they are: and aboue all, they ſhould exempt themſelues from ſight of Parents neighbours and freinds, becauſe oftentimes the talk and frequenting of ſuch, procureth achange of their holy & chaſt will. and not without cauſe haue I made this little diſcourſe, for it is to the end that it happen not to them, as it did vnto the faire Princeſſe Eliſena, who ſo long labored in thought to preſerue her ſelfe: yet notwithſtanding in one only moment, ſeeing the beauty and good grace of King Perion, changed her will in ſuch ſorte, as without the aduiſe & diſcretiō of Darioletta, who would couer the honor of hir Miſtreſſe vnder the mantle of mariage: you may ſee ſhe was at the poynt to fal, into the very loweſt parte of all diſhonor. As it hath happened to many other, of whom hath commonly beene heard ſpeech: who not keeping them ſelues from what I haue ſaide before, haue beene taken bad enough, and taken will be, if they admit no better foreſight.

Now then are theſe two louers in their ſolace, Eliſena demanding of the king, if his departure ſhould be ſhortly or no. Wherfore Madame do you aske? ſaid king Perion. Becauſe, quoth ſhe, this happy fortune that with ſo great delight hath giuen eaſe to our affectionate deſires: doth threaten me already with extreame anguiſh & ſorrow, which by your abſence I ſhall receiue, and feare it will rather cauſe my ſudden death, then long life. Haue no doubt thereof ſaide the king, for although my body is ſeperated from your preſence, my hart for euer ſhal remain with ye, which ſhall giue ſtrength to vs both, to you to ſuffer, and to me by my ſpeedye returne. Theſe two contented louers are thus deuiſing, when ſhe that had bin the cauſe of their meeting (ſeeing it was time to call her miſtreſſe, who by this pleaſure forgot her ſelfe in her louers armes) entred the Chamber, & ſpeaking ſomewhat loude ſaide. Madme, I know that heretofore you thought my company more agreeable, then you doe at this preſent: but it is needfull 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 played Darioletta to walke into the Garden, and to bring him word in what corner the winde ſat: in meane while he tooke his amourous conge, with ſuch reciprocall pleaſure, as you that loue may eaſily iudge, then ſweetly kiſſing her, he ſaide, I aſſure you Madame, that for your ſake I will ſtay longer in this Country then you imagine, therefore I pray ye be not vnmindfull of this place. So aroſe Eliſena, and went to her Chamber with Darioletta, leauing the king alone, not a little contented with his new acquaintance: but dreading his dreame, as you haue heard, and willing to know what it might ſignifie, he became deſirous to returne to his owne Country, where as then were good ſtore of Philoſophers, that were well ſeene in thoſe Sciences: himſelfe likewiſe in former times tooke great pleaſure therein, and vnderſtood ſundry rules thereof. Neuertheleſſe, he ſoiourned ten dayes with king Garinter, after his ſporting with Eliſena, who neuer a night failed to viſit her louely haunt. The ten dayes being ſpent, king Perion (forcing his will, and notwithſtanding the teares and intreaties of Eliſena which were exceſſiue) reſolued to depart, and therefore tooke his leaue of the Court: but as he wold haue mounted on horſebacke, he perceiued that he wanted his good Sword, whereat he became ſomewhat offended, becauſe it was one of the beſt, and faireſt in the world, yet durſt he not demand it, fearing leaſt the loue of him and Eliſena ſhould thereby be diſcouered, or King Garinter angry with them that viſited his Chamber. In theſe thoughts, accompanied with infinite regrets, without longer ſtay, he tooke his way toward Gaule: albeit before his departure, Darioletta came & intreated him, to be mindfull of the great griefe wherein he left his Eliſena, and of the ſolemne promiſe he had made her. Alas my deere friend, 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 ſee her, in meane while, I commend her to you as mine owne proper hart. Then taking from his finger a Ring, 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 greefe, but encreaſe it, ſo that if ſhe had not beene comforted by Darioletta, without doubt, ſhe had then finiſhed her dayes: but ſo well ſhe perſwaded her to take good hope, that by the alligations ſhe laid before her of dangerous occurrences, ſhe came ſomewhat better to her ſelfe, and learned thence forward more ſmoothly to diſſemble her ſorrowe, till ſhe felte her ſelfe great with Childe, by meanes whereof, ſhe not onely 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 miſ-hap was her ſorrow ſet, and not without cauſe, for in that time was there an inuiolable lawe, that any woman or maiden, of what quality or eſtate ſoeuer, offending in ſuch ſorte, could no way excuſe her ſelfe from death. This ſharpe and cruell cuſtome, endured til the comming of the vertuous King Arthur, the beſt Prince that euer raigned in that Country: which he reuoked at the time, as be killed Floian in battaile before the Gates of Paris. But many other Kinges were betweene him and Garinter, who maintained that lawe, and for this cauſe the ſorrowfull Lady could not be abſolued by ignoraunce thereof: albeit that by the oathes and promiſes of King Perion on his Sword, God would remit the offence, yet knew ſhe not how to excuſe her faulte to the worlde, becauſe it was done ſo ſecretly as you haue heard. See here the diſtreſſe wherein King Perion left his Eliſena, which gladly ſhe wold giue him to vnderſtand, if poſſible ſhe could: but it might not be for ſhe knew the prompritude of this yong Knng, that tooke no reſt in any place where he came, nor was his hart ſatiſfied, except in this, with following armes, as alſo ſeeking ſtrange and hazardous aduentures, and therefore he was the harder to be found. Thus diſpairing 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 friend and onely Lord. But at that inſtant the great and puiſſant maker of all thinges, by whoſe permſſion this act was appointed to his ſeruice, inſpired Darioletta with ſuch councell, as ſhe onely ſhould remedie theſe occurrances, in ſuch ſort as you ſhall preſently vnderſtand.

In the pallace of King Garinter, there was a Chamber-vault ſeperated from the reſt, neere to which was a riuer, whereto one might eaſily diſcend by a little Iron dore, this Chamber (by the aduice of Darioletta) did Eliſena requeſt of her father, as well for her eaſe, as to cōtinue her accuſtomed ſolitary life, and would haue none other companion then Darioletta, who (as you haue heard) knew the occaſion of her dollorous greefes. This requeſt ſhe lightly obtained, the King thinking his daughters intent to be as ſhe feigned, and heereupon was the keye of the Iron dore 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 & aſſurance then before: for well was ſhe aduiſed, that in this place more commodiouſly then any other, might ſhe prouide to eſcape without danger. Wherefore beeing there one day alone with her Damoſell, they fell in conference, & ſhe requited councell, what ſhould be done with the fruit: that ſhe trauailed withall. What? anſwered Darioletta: Mary, it muſt ſuffer to redeeme you. Oh poore maidenly mother, ſaide Eliſena, how can I cōſent to the death of the creature, begoten by the only man of the worlde, whome 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, ſaide Eliſena, although I dye beeing culpable, it were no reaſon the little innocent ſhould ſuffer. Leaue we this talke, anſwered Darioletta, ſeeing it were great folly to hazard the ſafety of that, which hereafter may be the onely cauſe of your loſſe, and your friend likewiſe: for well you knowe, that if you be diſcouered, you ſhall dye, and the infant ſhall not liue, & you dying, no longer can he liue that ſo d • er • ly loueth you. So ſhall you alone cauſe the death of all three, 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 ſeeke to preuent the inconuenience, in this manner. She got foure little boards, of ſuch largenes as was neceſſary to make a Cheſt wherein to put the infant, with the clothes & the Sword which ſhe kept, then did ſhe giue them together in ſuch ſorte, as the water ſhould haue no place to enter. This beeing done & made fit, ſhe put it vnder the bed, without declaring any thing there-of to Eliſena, vntil the time of child-birth 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 need. Beleeue me anſwerd Eliſena weeping but little doe I care for any thing that may happen, for I feele my ſelfe too neere the loſſe of my good, 〈◊〉 my ioy. Very ſoone after, the Princeſſe felt the anguiſh of trauaile, which was to her very ſtrange & troubleſome, oppreſſing her hart with ſundry bitter paſſiōs: yet notwithſtanding al her yrkſome plunges, poore ſoule ſhe durſt not but be ſilent, greatly fearing leaſt ſhe ſhould be heard. Her agonies thus redoubling, the moſt mighty (without danger of her perſon) gaue her in deliuerance a faire Son, which the Damoſell receiued, and as ſhe held it, it ſeemed to hero wonderfull feature, and happy would ſhe haue reputed him, had he not bene borne to hard fortune, where-to Darioletta was conſtrained to ſend him for the redemption of the ſorrowfull mother, and therefore 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 demanded what ſhe would do therewith. Madame quoth ſhe, herein ſhall your little Sonne be put, then will I ſend it forth on the water, and if it pleaſe God, he may eſcape and liue. Alas my ſweete infant, ſaide Eliſena, how full of danger is thy deſtiny? In meane while, Darioletta tooke inke and parchment, and writ therein theſe words, This is Amadis without time, Sonne to a King: by theſe words without time, ſhe meant, that ſhe thought his death to be neere at hand, and the name of Amadis was of great reuerence in that Country, becauſe of a Saint there ſo called, to whom this little infant was recōmended. The letter beeing written and ſealed, was couered and wrapped in ſilke, & then with a little golden Chaine, faſtened about the Childes necke, with the Ring that King Perion ſent Eliſena at his departure. Each 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 Sword, which he threw on the ground the firſt night he came to Eliſena, and this is the cauſe wherefore the Damoſell had ſo well kept it: then after the Mother had kiſt her Sonne, as her laſt farewell, the Cofer was made faſt very arteficially, and Darioletta opening the iron dore, commending the babe to the heauenly protection, ſhe ſet it on the water, the courſe whereof beeing very ſpeedy, full ſoone caried the Cofer into the Sea, which was leſſe then halfe a mile from the place.

Now began the breake of day to appeare, and the little infant followed his fortune, now throwne heere, 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 done, a Scottiſhe Ship ſayled on the Sea, wherein was a Gentleman named Gandales, who from little Brittaine ſailed with his wife into Scotland, ſhe hauing beene lately deliuered of a ſonne called Gandalin. The morning was both calme & cleere, wherefore Gandales might eaſilye perceiue the Cheſt floting on the waues, which he preſently ſent out for, thinking it to be ſome matter of great value: then the Mariners caſting forth a Skiffe, made toward the Cofer and tooke it vp: when they had brought it to Gandales, he got open the couer; and beholding the goodly infant within, as alſo the rich clothes wherein it was wrapped, he ſuſpected that it came from no meane place, as he gathered by the ring & the good Sword. So taking it in his armes, he was filled with ſuch compaſſion, as he began to curſſe the mother thereof, who through feare had forſaken ſo cruelly ſuch a beautifull creature: and carefully did he cauſe al things to be kept which he found in the Cofer, deſiring his wife, that this infant might be nouriſhed as his owne Sonne. She was heerewith very wel contented, and ſo the two children were equally foſtered together, for neuer had yong Amadis ſuckt the teat, but ſo ſoone as it was giuen him by his new nurſſe, he made no refuſall thereof, but being very thirſtie ſucked very hartily, whereat Gandales and his wife were exceeding glad. Now had they the time ſo fauourable, as ſhortly they landed in Scotland, neere to a Citie named Antallia, and ſoone after they came to their owne Country, where little Gandalin, and the Childe found in the 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 the ſhip belonged, and were to ſaile els where: the two children were eſteemed bretheren by ſuch as were ignorant of their fortune.

CHAP. III.

How King Perion parting from little Brittaine, trauelled on his iourney, hauing his heart filled with grieſe and melancholie.

KIng Perion being on his way toward Gaule, as already hath beene recited, entred into a marueilous melancholy, as well for the greefe wherein he had left his Eliſena, to whom in his hart he wiſhed well: as alſo for his doubtfull dreame, being in ſuch ſorte as you haue heard. So long rode he in this heauines, till he ariued in his country, and ſoone after he ſent for all his great Lords as alſo the Prelates of his Realme, giuing them expreſſe charge, to bring with them the moſt learned Clarks in their Countryes, and this he did, to the end they might expound his dreame. When his vaſſailes had made knowne his will, not only thoſe he ſent for, but many other came to the court, ſhewing the deſire they had to ſee him, & their readines to obey his command: for they did ſo loue and reuerence him, as oftentimes (being fearefull to looſe him) they were for him in very great greefe and ſorrow, thinking on the dangerous perils, that in chiualry (to win honor) he hazarded himſelfe, ſo that they would more gladly haue had him dayly with them, which could not be, becauſe his hart was diſcontented, til 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 affairs of the Realme, but it was with ſo ſad countenance as could be: for the occaſion of his dreame made him ſo penſiue, as his Subiectes (being abaſhed thereat) were in meruailous doubtes, notwithſtanding, after he had giuen them to vnderſtand his will, and appointed all requiſite matters in order, he gaue them leaue to departe, ſending each one home to his houſe, only ſtaying with him three Aſtrologers, reputed the moſt skilfull in thoſe actions, and therefore he made choiſe of them. Theſe men he called into his chappell, there cauſing them ſolemnely to ſweare & promiſe, that without feare of any thing, how dangerous ſoeuer it were, they ſhould interprete to their vttermoſt, and truely expreſſe what he would declare to them, whereupon he told them his dream, as hath bin already 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 eſteemed: notwithſtanding, ſeeing it is your pleaſure that ſome account ſhould be made of yours, giue vs ſome time to conſider thereon. It liketh me wel, ſaid the king, within 12 daies look that you make me anſwer. But to the end they ſhould not diſguiſe o • conceale the truth from him, he cauſed them to be ſeperated, ſo that during the time agreed vpon, they might neither ſee or ſpeake together: wherefore to their vttermoſt they trauailed in what they had promiſed the King, ſo that the day being come, when they ſhould render an occompt 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 ſkill. Sir anſwered Albert, let then the reſt be called into your preſence, for before them will I tel ye. Well haſt thou aduiſed, ſaid the King: whereupon they were ſent for, afterward Albert thus began. My opinion is, my Lord, that the cloſed Chamber, and him whom you ſaw enter by the ſecret dore, ſignifieth this Realme which is cloſe & well guarded: notwithſtanding by ſome right thereto, ſome one ſhall come to take it from you. And like as he thruſt his handes into your ſides, renting forth thence your hart, and afterward threw it into the Riuer: euen ſo ſhall your Townes and Caſtles both more & leſſe, be priuily ſtolen from you, and put into his hand from whom you ſhall not eaſily recouer them. And what meaneth the other hart, ſaid the King, which I dreamed ſhould remain with me, and yet he ſaid, that ſoone after I ſhould loſe it, againſt the will of him that took 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 another that commanded him to do ſo, then by any will thereto in himſelfe: thus ſee ye (my Lord) all that I can tell ye. Now ſaid the king to the ſecond named Antalles, tel 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) that what he ſaith ſhall happen, is already effected, & by the perſon that moſt loueth ye: notwithſtanding I am greatly amazed thereat, ſeeing there is not as yet any part of your Realme loſt, & if you do looſe any thing hereafter, it muſt be by ſuch a one as loueth you decrely. When the king heard this, he nodded his head, for it ſeemed to him, that he came neere the marke: but Vngan the Piccard, who knew much more thē the other, fel into a laughter, which he was ſildome wont to doe, becauſe he was a man very ſad and melancholly, yet (by chance) the King perceiued it, wherefore he ſaid. Maiſter Vngan my friend, now remaineth none but you, ſay boldly what you haue gathered. My Lord, quoth he, peraduenture I haue ſeene into things, which is not neceſſary to be knowne to any other then your ſelfe, & therefore let theſe giue place a while, if you pleaſe. At theſe words they with-drew themſelues, leauing the King and Vngan alone, who thus ſpake.

If your Maieſty ſaw me ere while to laugh, it was at one word which little you thinke on, yet it is true, and will you know what? It was that which Antalles ſaid, that what he found by your dreame was already happened, & by the perſon that beſt loueth ye: Now ſhall I reueale what you keepe in ſecret and thinke that none knowes but your ſelfe. You loue (my Lord) in ſuch a place, where you haue already accompliſhed your will, and ſhe whom you loue is ſurpaſſing faire, then tolde he all the geſts and faſhions of her, as if ſhe had bene there preſent. But as for the chamber you found ſhut, you know Sir, full well what it meaneth, and how ſhe whome you loue, deſirous to deliuer her heart and yours from griefe and ſadneſſe: came to ye, entring your chāber by the falſe dore that was hid from you. The hands that opened your ſides, is the conuinction of you twaine: then the heart taken from ye, ſheweth that ſhe hath by you a Son or a Daughter. Now tell me ſaid the King, what meaneth the caſting thereof into the Riuer? My Lord, quoth he, that nothing concerneth you, therefore neuer labour for further knowledge thereof. Yet would I, ſaid the King, faine vnderſtand it, and therefore feare not to tell me for any harme that may happen. Seeing you will needes haue it, anſwered Vngan, I beſeech ye Sir aſſure me while you liue, for any thing that I ſhal reueal, you wilnot be diſpleaſed with her who loueth you ſo loyally. That promiſe do I faithfully make thee, ſaid the King. In good ſooth Sir, quoth Vngan, that heart that you ſaw throwen into the water, is the firſt infant ſhe ſhall haue by you, who muſt of neceſſity be forſaken. And the other, ſaid the King, that ſhall remaine with me, what meaneth that? You may, anſwered Vngan, vnderſtand by the one, deſſeigne of the other, which is, that ſhe ſhall conceiue another childe, who ſhall be caryed away againſt the will of her, that cauſed the loſſe of the firſt. Thou haſt told me ſtrange things, ſaid the King, and would God the miſ-fortune of my Children were not ſo true, as what thou haſt told me concerning the Lady I loue. For things ordeined and appoynted by the higheſt, anſwered Vngan, none knoweth how to gaine-ſay or remedy, and therefore men of wiſdome ſhould neuer be ſad or reioyce at them, becauſe oftentimes the Lord diſpoſeth matters beyond the capacity of men & farre otherwiſe then they expect. For this cauſe my Lord, forgetting all that I haue ſaid, and which you haue bin ſo curious to vnderſtand: referre all things to God, deſiring him in theſe your affaires and all other, to limit the end of them to his honor and glory, and thus (in mine opinion) you ought to ſet downe your reſt. The King was highly contented with Vngan, and ſo eſteemed of him, that from thēce forward he had him neere his perſon, by meanes whereof 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 coſtly in garments and faire in beauty, thus ſpeaking. Vnderſtand King Perion, that when thou recouereſt thy loſſe, the Kingdome of Ireland ſhall looſe her flower. So giuing her Palfrey the bridle, and the King not able to ſtay her, ſhe rode away: theſe wordes made the good Prince more ſad & penſiue then he was before.

For this time the Auther leaueth this purpoſe, & returneth to ſpeake of the infant, that Gandales cauſed to be nouriſhed, whom he made to be called the Gentleman of the Sea. Now was he curiouſly entertained, wherefore in ſhort time he grew and became ſo faire, that all which beheld him meruailed thereat, but one day among other it happened, that Gandales rode to ſport himſelfe in the fields, arming himſelfe 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 himſelfe, and as he rode, he met with a Damoſell that thus ſpeake to him. Ah Gandales, if many great perſonages were aduertiſed of what I know certainly, I aſſure thee they would cauſe thee to looſe thy head. Wherefore? quoth he. Becauſe, ſaid the Damoſell, thou nouriſheſt their death in thy houſe. The knight knew not the woman that thus talked with him, but you muſt vnderſtand, how ſhe was the ſame that ſaid to king Perion, that when he recouered his loſſe, the Kingdome of Ireland ſhould loſe her flower, yet notwithſtanding he was farre from the matter, becauſe he knew not whereof ſhe ſpake, and therefore thus replyed. For Gods ſake (Damoſell) I pray ye tell me, on what occaſion you vſe theſe ſpeeches. Beleeue me Gandales, qooth ſhe, I haue tolde thee nothing but truth. At theſe wordes ſhe departed from him, leauing him very ſad and penſiue: yet long he did not continue in theſe thoughts, but he ſaw her returne againe, in great haſt, thus crying & calling. Ah Gandales, for Gods ſake ſuccor me: then Gandales turning about, beheld a knight follow her with his Sword drawne, wherefore he gaue his horſe the ſpurres to meete him, and placed himſelfe for the defence of the Damoſell, then comming to him that purſued her, he ſaid. Stay thou bad aduiſed knight, what moueth thee thus trecherouſly to outrage Ladyes? What now? anſwered the other, doeſt thou hope to ſaue her, who by trumpery hath made me looſe both body and ſoule? That meddle not I withall, ſaid Gandales, but I will defend her to my power, well knowing that Ladyes ought not to be corrected in this manner, albeit they did deſerue it. We ſhal preſently ſee that, anſwered the knight, and ſo gallopped to the place from whence he came, which was a little thicket of trees, where ſtayed a very beautyfull Lady, who when ſhe ſaw him returne, came forth, bringing him a Sheeld and a ſtrong Launce, which he tooke, and without longer tariance, returned to his enemy, Gandales being a ſterne knight, would not refuſe him: whereupon they met together in ſuch ſorte, as their launces were broken no their Sheelds, and they with their horſes caſt to the ground, yet quickly did they recouer footing, when began betweene them a meruailous combate, which worſe would haue bin, but that ſhe which deſired ſuccor of Gandales, ſtepped betweene them, ſaying. Stay Gentlemen, fight no more. At theſe wordes, the Knight who before purſued her went back, then ſaid the Damoſell to him. Come now and aske pardon of me. Moſt willingly, anſwered the Knight, then throwing his Sword and Sheeld down, came and humbled himſelfe on both his knees before her, whereat Gandales was greatly amazed, afterward the Damoſell ſaid to the Knight. Goe cōmand the Lady vnder the trees, that ſhe get her away immediatly, vnleſſe thou ſhalt take her head from her ſhoulders. To this charge the Knight yeelded himſelfe obedient, and to her whom he loued more then himſelfe (by ſudden change from loue to hatred) he came and angerly ſaid. Trayterous woman, I know not how I ſhall defend my ſelfe from killing thee preſently. Well perceiued the poore Lady, that her friend was enchanted, and that conteſtation would nothing at all profit her: wherefore incontinent ſhe mounted on her palfray, and rode away, making the moſt grieuous ſorrow that euer was heard, and there remained ſhe whom Gandales had defended, ſpeaking to him in this manner. You haue (Sir) done ſo much for me, as I ſhall be beholding to you while I liue, and now you may depart at your pleaſures for if the knight offended me. I haue pardoned him with all my heart. As touching your pardon, anſwered Gandales, I haue nothing to doe therewith: for my ſelfe, I will end the Combate, or he ſhall hold him-ſelfe vanquiſhed. It behoueth that you acquite him, ſaid the Damoſell, ſeeing that if you were the beſt Knight in the world, eaſily can I make him ouercome yee. Do therein what you can, replyed Gandales, but I will not acquite him, except you firſt declare to me, wherefore (euen now) you ſaid, 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 owne Soule, & you as my defender, albeit conſtraint cannot make me doe it: ſo taking him aſide, ſhe ſaid. You ſhall ſweare to me as a loyall Knight, that no other ſhall know it by you, vntill ſuch time as I command it: hereof he made her faithfull promiſe. Know then, ſaid the Damoſell, that he whom you found in the Sea, ſhall one day be the flower of chiualdry, and ſhall cauſe the very ſtrongeſt to ſtoope, he ſhall enterpriſe, and with honor finiſh what other ſhall faile off: and ſuch deedes of armes ſhall he doe, 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 and pittileſſe, as alſo benigne and amiable to the debonaire: this Knight moſt loyally will maintaine loue, and ſhall effect in place anſwerable to his magnanimitie. Moreouer, I aſſure thee Gandales, that he is the Sonne of a King, and (without doubt) all this will happen which I haue told thee: but if thou keepe it not ſecret, it may returne thee more harme then good. Madame, anſwered Gandales, I pray ye tell me where I may meete with you hereafter, to conferre with you on the affaires of this infant. That muſt you not know by me, ſaid 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 cō • ure me ſo, as you ſhall know it: albeit the thing that moſt 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 eighteene yeeres, became ſo olde and ouer ſpent, as he meruailed how ſhe could ſit on her horſe, if then he was ſtricken into admiration, you may iudge. But when ſhe had beene a prittie while in that ſtate, ſhe tooke out of a little bottell (which ſhe caryed) a certaine vnguent, wherewith ſhe rubbed her face, & right ſoone recouered her former countenaunce, ſaying to Gandales. What iudge ye now Sir? thinke you to finde me hereafter againſt my will, vſing all the dilligence you can deuiſe? neuer therefore put your ſelfe 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 thereof, yet I beſeech ye to be mindefull of the Gentleman, who is forſaken of all but my ſelfe. Doe not you trouble your ſelfe therewith, ſaid Vrganda, this forſaking wil be a recouering of much more. My loue to him in greater then you can imagine, being ſhe that ſhortly intendes to receiue by him two aydes, which no other can giue me. In recompence whereof, I will giue him two likewiſe, wherewith he ſhall thinke himſelfe highly ſatiſfied. Let this ſuffiſe ye for this time, becauſe of neceſſitie I muſt be gone: aduiſing ye, that you ſhal ſee me againe ſooner then you thinke for. At theſe wordes the Damoſell departed, and Gandales, who had not all this while regarded the Knight againſt whom he fought, ſeeing him now bareheaded, 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 Damoſel, wherefore for this time we will let them goe, continuing what happened to Gandales.

Vrganda being departed, he returned toward his Caſtel, meeting by the way with the Lady, whō Vrganda had cauſed to be chaſed frō her friend, and this ſorrowfull woman was heard by a Fountaine, where ſhe wept & lamented very bitterly: when ſhe eſpyed him that came toward her, ſhe eaſily knew him, wherefore ſhe thus ſpake. Is it poſſible, Sir Knight, that the wicked creature whom you ſuccoured, hath done 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 you deny theſe fooliſh wordes. Ah God, ſaid 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 the faire Knight that ſhould be mine: and ſo may I well ſay, ſeeing he would be more content to be with me, then with her. This is meere folly, anſwered Gandales, for in mine opinion, both you & ſhe doe loue without reaſon. How euer it be, ſaid the Lady, if I can I will be auenged. You trauile 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 impatient, commending her to God, followed his way, thinking more of the yong Gentlemans affaires, then what the Lady had ſpoken to him. Being 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 himſelfe. Faire Childe, I pray God I may liue ſo long, as to ſee thee ſuch a one as I hope for. At this time the yong Prince was about three yeeres olde, who ſeeing his Lord weepe, (as one moued with compaſſion) he wiped his eyes, which made Gandales imagine great humanity in him: and that as the childe grew in age & ſtrength, ſo waxed he in will, the better to helpe him if he had occaſion. Wherefore thence forward, he was very carefull of him, deuiſing all meanes for his beſt education, and compayning continually with his play fellowe Gandalin, he took very great delight in ſhooting.

He being come to the age of ſixe yeeres, King Languines and his Queene riding through the Country, came to Gandales Caſtell, where they were royally 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 reſpect of his beauty and good grace, the King would be deſirous to take him away with him, or elſe that the childrē would be troubleſome to the houſe. But it fortuned, that the Queene being lodged in one of the higheſt roomes in the Caſtell, as ſhe looked forth 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 very well, ſhe liked him aboue all the other, taking great pleaſure to behold his countenance, thinking he was Sonne to the Lord of the houſe: yet being doubtfull, and not ſeeing any of whom ſhe might aske the queſtiō, ſhe thus called to her Ladyes. Come and behold the faireſt yong creature that euer was ſeene. At theſe words they al came running, and ſoone after, the Childe being drye, left his bowe by his companions, going to drinke at a conduit pipe, which was hard by: in meane while, one of them that was bigger then the Prince, tooke vp his bow to draw it, but Gandalin would not ſuffer him, whereupon a great ſtrife full betweene them, and Gandalin being the weakeſt, cryed out: Gentleman of the ſea, come helpe me. When the Prince heard him, he left his draught, and ran to him that miſuſed his brother, taking his bowe from him, giuing him therewith a great ſtroke ouer the head, ſaying: In an euill hower (varlet) doſt thou outrage my brother. The other not content therewith, came to the Prince, & they fought together: yet he that began the noyſe was glad to run thence, and by the way met their Gouernour, who ſaid: Whether runneſt thou; Maiſter, quoth he, the Gentleman of the ſea will beate me: then the Gouernour cōming to the Prince, rigorouſly threatned him, ſaying. What; are you already ſo bolde to beate your companions; you ſhall be talked withall by and by for it. When the Prince heard his threatning, he fell downe on his knees, ſaying. If you will appoynt that I ſhall be beaten, more gladly will I take it, then ſuffer my brother to be wronged in my preſence. With theſe words the teares trickled downe his cheekes, which moued pity in the Gouernour, wherefore he thus anſwered. If euer you doe ſo againe I will make ye weepe in an other ſorte. The Queene who had heard and ſeene all the debate, was greatly abaſhed, wherefore they called the little boy, the Gentleman of the ſea.

CHAP. IIII.

How King Languines caryed away with him the Gentleman of the ſea, and Gandalin the Sonne of Gandales.

WHile the Queene thus beheld the Gentleman of the ſea, the King entred her Chamber accompanied with Gandales, of whom ſhe preſently demanded, if that faire yong Sonne were his. Yea 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: & this was her opinion, becauſe the Prince was exellent faire, and Gandales ſomewhat heard fauoured, yet a moſt gentle companion. It chanced during theſe ſpeeches, that the King caſt his eye on the little Prince, to whom he ſeemed no leſſe beautyfull then he did to the Queene, wherefore he commanded Gandales to fetch him: for when I goe hence (quoth he) I will take him with me, and haue him brought vp with mine one Son. In ſooth my Lord, anſwered Gandales, he is yet to yong to leaue his Mother: but hauing brought him, preſented him to the King, who ſaid. Faire Child will ye go 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 tarry here without him. I perceiue my Lord, ſaid Gandales, that if you take the one, you muſt needes haue the other, for they will not be ſeperated. I am the better pleaſed, anſwered the King: then calling Agraies to him, ſaid. My Son, I will that you loue theſe two Gentlemen, as I do 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 fortunate, now I ſee thee in the ſeruice of them, who one day may (happily) ſerue thee, if it pleaſe God to guide and protect thee, as I ſhall humbly pray for, & ſuffer that the words of Vrganda the vnknowne ſpoken to me, may proue true: making me ſo happy, as to liue to ſee the time, of thoſe great meruailes, promiſed thee in Armes. The King who noted Gandales, ſeeing that his eyes were filled with teares, came to comfort him, ſaying. Beleeue me, I neuer thought you had bene ſuch a foole, as to weepe for a Childe. Ah my Lord anſwered Gandales, it may be vpon greater occaſion then you thinke for, and if it pleaſe you to know the truth, I will preſently tell ye heere before your Queene. So he tolde the whole diſcourſe, how he found the Gentleman of the ſea, and in what equipage: and he had proceeded with that which Vrganda foretold him, but that he remembred the oath he tooke. Now my Lord ſaid Gandales, deale for him as you ſhall pleaſe, for (ſo God helpe me) according to his beginning, I thinke him to be iſſued of great linage. Whē the King heard this, he eſteemed much the better of him, that he had ſo carefully nouriſhed the child he found, and thus anſwered. It is great reaſon (ſeeing god hath done ſo much for him, as to preſerue him frō ſo great a danger) that now we be diligent in his education, and endowe him with habilities when time ſhall ſerue. In good faith my Lord, ſaid the Queene, ſo pleaſe you, he ſhalbe mine during his young yeeres, 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 the next morning, the King would ſet forward, wherefore the Queene, not hauing forgot the gift of her Lord, tooke with her Gandalin and the yong Gentleman of the ſea, whom ſhe commanded 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 cheerefull ſpirit, and ſo well gouerned withall, as he was well liked of euery ore, ſo that whatſoeuer he did, paſſed with generall allowance, & no other paſtime had he, but in ſhooting and cheriſhing dogges for the chaſe.

Now doth the Authour leaue this matter, returning to that which happened to King Perion, & his new freind Eliſena. King Perion (as you haue already heard) being in Gaule, where he vnderſtood by his Philoſphers the expoſition of his dreame, as alſo what the Damoſell had told him: That when he recouered his loſſe, the Kingdome of Ireland ſhould looſe her flower: he became more penſiue then before, yet could he vnderſtand nothing thereof. As he thus ſadly ſpent his dayes, it chanced that another Damoſell entred his Pallace, who brought him a letter from Eliſena, whereby ſhe gaue him to know, that King Garinter her Father was dead, and ſhe remained alone, and for this cauſe he ſhould pitty her, in that the King of Scots would take her Kingdome from her. For the death of King Garinter was Perion ſomewhat ſorrowfull, but yet he comforted himſelfe, by thinking he ſhould goe to ſee his friend, towards whom he had not diminiſhed one iot of his affection, wherefore he quickly diſpatched the Damoſell, ſaying to her. Returne and ſay to your Miſtreſſe, that without ſtaying one whole day, I ſhall be in ſhort time with her. The Damoſell well 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 ſpeedily, as he ariued in little Brittaine: where he heard newes that king Languines had already gotten all the cheefe of the Country, except thoſe Cities which Garinter gaue to Eliſena, who now abode (as he vnderſtood) at a place named Arcate, whether he addreſſed himſelfe. If he were there well receiued, I leaue to your iudgments, and ſhe likewiſe of him whom ſhe loued ſo much. After the welcomming & feaſting of one another, the King told her that he would now marry her, and for that cauſe ſhe aduertiſed her kindred and Subiects: which ſhe did with all diligence could be deuiſed, as alſo with ſo great contentation as her heart might deſire, for herein only conſiſted the ſumme of her affections. Which being heard by the King of Scots, and how to accompliſh this, King Perion was already arriued with his Siſter: he ſent immediatly for all the noble men of his Realme, to beare him company in doing honor and wel-come to the King his brother. At his comming, he was gratiouſly receiued by King Perion, and after by embracings they had ſaluted each other, and the nuptials likewiſe thorowly ended: the kings determined to returne home into their owne Countryes.

King Perion trauailing toward Gaule with his Queene Eliſena, & ſomewhat weary with tediouſneſſe of the way, he would refreſh himſelfe along by a Riuer ſide: & while the tentes were erecting, he rode ſoftly alone by the waterbancke, imagining how he might know the truth, whether Eliſena had a child, aaccording as his Philoſophertold him in expounding his dreame. But ſo long continued he in this thought, that riding on without any regarde, he came to an Hermitage which was neere at hand: wherefore finding him-ſelfe at a place of deuotion, he alighted, tying his Horſe to a tree, that he might goe in to ſay his prayers. And entring the Church, he found there a very antient religious man, who comming to meete him, ſaid, Knight, is it true, that king Perion is marryed to our kings daughter? yea verily, anſwered the king, Praiſed be God, ſaid the good Hermit, for I know certainly, that ſhe loueth him with all her hart. How can you tell that; replied the king. Euen from her owne mouth, ſaid the good olde man. The king then hoping he ſhoud heare of him the thing which he moſt deſired to know, ſaid. I pray ye Father tell me, what you haue vnderſtood of her and me, for I am King Perion. Truely Sir, anſwered the wiſe man, herein ſhall I greatly fault, 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 ſeeing I haue met ye in a place ſo conuenient, I will that ye know, what a Damoſell (in mine opinion very wiſe) ſaid to me at the time you came firſt into this country: yet ſpake ſhe to me ſo darkely, as I neuer knew well how to comprehend her words, for ſhe ſaid. That from little Brittaine ſhould come two great Dragons, that ſhould hold their gouernment in Gaule, and their hearts in great Brittaine, and from thence they ſhould go to deuoure the beaſtes of other Countryes: 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 words I became very penſiue, nor could I euer ſince learne the ſignification hereof. 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 holy man to God, returned to his tents, where he ſaluted his Queene, yet would he not tell her (as then) any thing of that wherewith his mind was troubled: but diſſembled the ſame till they were in bed, and after their accuſtomed embracings, the king by an apt meane recoūted to her, what his Aſtrologers had ſaid on his dreame, earneſtly deſiring her to tel him, whether ſhe had any Child by him or no. When the good Lady heard this, ſhe was ſurpriſed with ſhame in ſuch ſorte, as willingly ſhe could haue wiſhed her ſelfe dead: and therefore altogether denied the truth, ſo that at this time the king might not know what he deſired. On the morrow they departed thence and arriued in Gaule, where this noble Queen was generally receiued with great ioy. And becauſe that (as it hath bene heretofore rehearſed) the king bare her ſinguler affection, he did for her ſake ſtay more in his Realme, then he was wont to doe: ſo that not long after, the Queene 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 window toward the Garden, where was then the Queene with her ſon & Ladies ſporting: there entred at a poſtern dore ſuch a horrible Giant, as no man that euer ſaw him but was exceedingly affraide, bearing on his neck a huge & mighty Mace. When the company 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, whom he tooke in his armes, and in a laughter ſaid. By my faith, the Damoſell ſaid true. So without any thing elſe, taking away the Child, returned the ſame way he came: and entring a Brigandine that there ſtayed for him, departed vnder ſaile. In meane while the ſorrowfull Queene, who ſaw her ſon caryed away. (Forgetting through motherly loue the feare of the Giant) followed him very neere, hoping to recouer her little Galaor: but when ſhe ſaw him enter the Brigandine, God knowes in what anguiſh ſhe was, for her Sonne in crying ſaid: Ah helpe me mother. Alas ſhe could not, and more ſtrange then death ſhe tooke it, to ſee him caried away, whom ſhe loued as her owne life: and in this extreame dollour, ſhe remembred her other Sonne throwne into the ſea, wherefore the wofull mother fell downe in a ſwoune. King Perion her husband, who ſaw all this in the place where he ſtood, from whence he could not quickly come to aide the Queene or her Son: at laſt came to the Queene, finding her in that caſe, and did ſo much as he recouered her againe. Then began ſhe to make the moſt grieuous mone in the world, regreeting this new loſſe, by whom the before hoped to vnderſtand of the firſt: and diſpayring euer to heare any newes of comfort, moued great compaſſion in all that beheld her. All this while the king laboured to perſwade her, whereby at laſt ſhe reobtained the reaſon that before was abſent, whereupon the king ſaid. Madame, we muſt thank God for all, and cheefely in this caſe, for now I euidently ſee hath happened, the effect of my dreame, whereof ſometime I tolde ye: thus is little Galaor the laſt hart, that muſt be taken from vs againſt our will. Henceforth therefore feare not to declare, what is become of the firſt, for conſidering the eſtate you then were in, you ought not in reaſon to be blamed. At theſe words the mournefull mother forgetting none of the fault committed, told him the miſ-fortune of her firſt borne Sonne, entreating him to pardon her, ſeeing ſhe did it throw feare of death, according as was the law of the Country. 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, therefore I pray ye, take their deſteny ſo ſecretly as you may: for I truſt in God, that ſeeing it hath pleaſed him at our beginning, to afforde 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 we ſhall heare good tidings of them.

Now leauing this, ye muſt note, that the Giant who bare away the yong Prince, was of the Country of Leonois, Lord of an Iſle named Gandalan, wherein he had two ſtrong places. He was not a bloudy man, as many other were, but of a gentle and peaceable conuerſation, except when he was offended, for in his fury he would doe great cruelties. At one inſtant was the little barque ſo caried by the wind, as he arriued in his country, which he had cauſed to be peopled with Chriſtians, & there he kepta Hermite of moſt holy life, to whom he went ſaying. Father take this child, and nouriſh him for me, teaching him all that is conuenient in a knight, for I aſſure ye, he is the ſon of a king and a Queene. Ah, ſaid the Hermet, why haue you doone ſuch a cruell deede? I will tell ye, anſwered the Giant. Being minded to go combate with the Giant Albadan, who moſt vnhappily killed my father, as you know, and at this preſent forcibly holds from me the Rocke of Galteres, which by right appertaineth to me: being thus embarqued to execute mine intent, there came a Damoſell to me, who ſaid. Thou abuſeſt thy ſelfe, for what thou goeſt about, muſt be done by the ſon to king Perion of Gaul, who is much more ſtrong and hardy then thou art. I demanded by her faith, whether ſhe told me true or no. That ſhalt thou ſee, quoth ſhe: At what time the two bra • ches of one tree ſhall be ioyned, which at this inſtant are ſeuered: then did ſhe tell me, where I ſhould find him of whome ſhe ſpake, and this is he I giue you in guard, euen as you loue me. By theſe meanes remained little Calaor in the holy mans charge, and there he ſtaied ſo long, till he was of yeeres to receiue the order of Knight-hood, as hereafter 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, then prompt at armes, and Knightly chiualry, being 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 parts.

And albeit ſhe had bene requeſted in mariage by great Princes of the country, notwithſtanding for feare of ſome, the father durſt not conſent to the other: for which he would prouide by chooſing one himſelfe, and ſo maried her to the yong Prince Liſuart, who for loue ſerued him, nor was he ignorant of the vertues harbouring in hi • ge • t • e hart. Now after the death of Falangris, the Princes of great Brittaine, knowing the right of Liſuart, ſent for him to ſucceed in the Realme: for he being in a ſtrange country, whereby his hauty deeds and chiualry, he was maried in ſo good a place, therefore they piſpatched their Ambaſladours to him, intreating him to accept the Realme and ſubiects of great Brittaine, and to come to inueſt himſelfe therein.

CHAP. V.

How King Liſuart ſayling by ſea, landed in Scotland, where he was greatly honoured, and well entertained.

PRince Liſuart vnderſtanding his Subiects deſire for his ſhort returne, prouided his equipage by Sea, being aided and aſſiſted by the king of Denmarke his father in law, and afterward ſet ſaile toward great Brittaine. 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 Queene his wife, and a faire Princeſſe their daughter, aged (as is thought) about ten yeeres, named Oriana, one of the faireſt creatures that euer was ſeene: and therefore (during the time of her aboad in Denmarke) ſhe was commonly called The only, becauſe her paragon was not to be found in beauty. This yong Lady Oriana, being not vſed to trauaile on the ſea, found her ſelfe ſomewhat weary, and her father fearing a worſe miſ-hap, intreated the king of Scotland ſhe might ſtay with him till he ſent for her. Right gladly did king Languines and his Queene accept this charge, wherefore king Liſuart, (without longer ſtay in Scotland) went to ſea; where weighing Anckers and hoiſing ſailes, in ſhort time landed in his owne Country, where being arriued, before he could abide in quiet, as in ſuch occaſions it often falleth out: certaine rebels were found, whom in time he ouer-maiſtred, which was the cauſe he could not ſo ſpeedily ſend for his daughter that he left in Scotland.

In this place the author leaueth the new King peaceably ruling in great Brittaine, and returneth to the Gentleman of the ſea, who by this time hath attained the age of twelue yeeres: albeit in ſtature he ſeemed paſt fifteene, and for his good grace (both of the Queene and the other Ladies) was loued and eſteemed more then any other. Now according as hath beene already declared, the yong Princeſſe Oriana, daughter to King Liſuart, was left with the Queene of Scots to refreſh her ſelfe, till the King her father ſhould ſend for her, and to her did the Queene vſe all the gracious curteſies could be deuiſed, ſaying to her withall: Faire Madame, henceforth (ſo pleaſe you) ſhall the Gentleman of the ſea ſerue you, and be yours. Which the Princeſſe Oriana willingly accepted, wherefore the yong Prince made ſuch an impreſſion of this kindnſſe in his ſpirite, as during life he ment to ſerue nor loue any other, and therefore for euer bequeathed to her his heart: but ſo well it came to paſſe, that this loue was mutuall and equall betweene them both. Notwithſtanding, the Prince for a while hauing no knowledge thereof, thought him-ſelfe vnworthy ſo great good: reputing it a very bold enterpriſe to thinke thereon, which was the cauſe he durſt not ſpeake, but ſhew his good will in outward ſemblance. The yong Princeſſe who was of the fame minde, and alſo in like paine, forbare to talke more with him then any other, thereby to auoyde all ſuſpition: but the eyes of the two louers doing their deuoire and office, entercourſed the thing which moſt they eſteemed, and thus couertly they liued, without acquainting each other with this amorous affectiō. Soone after, this yong vnknowne Prince, ſeeing that to attaine the good grace of the Lady he loued, it was neceſſary he ſhould take Armes, & receiue the order of Knighthood, he ſaid to himſelfe. If once I were a Knight, I would do ſuch exployts, as ſhould deſerue the fauour of my Lady, or die in the attempt. And in this deſtre, 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 ſpeeches. My Lord, might it ſtand with your pleaſure, I gladly would receiue my Knight-hood. When the King heard him, ſeeing his yong yeeres, he was greatly abaſhed, and thus anſwered. How now Gentleman of the ſea? Do you thinke your ſelfe already ſtrong enough for ſuch a weightie charge? In ſooth it is an eaſie thing to receine honor: but to maintaine it as behooueth ( 〈◊〉 may be) is more hard then you eſteeme, ſo that oftentimes a right good hart is troubled therewith. For if through feare or cowardiſe he forſake what he ought to doe, more better is death to him, then a ſhamefull life: therefore by mine aduiſe, I would ha • e you yet a while to forbeare. The Prince not contented with this anſwere, replied. 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 doe all that appertaineth to Chiualrie, I would not haue beene ſo bold to make this requeſt: but ſeeing by your gracious fauour I haue beene hitherto nouriſhed, moſt humbly I beſeech ye to grant me this petition, that I may receiue no occaſion of looſing your ſeruice, to ſeeke elſe where for obtaining my ſuite. The king highly eſteemed the courage of the youth, and doubting leaſt he would depart indeed, anſwered. Aſſure your ſelfe Gentle-man, that I wil do it whē I ſee it neceſſary for ye, in meane while prouide your Armes and what elſe belongeth: Yet tell me (faire Sir) to whome (if I reſuſed) would you go for your order. To King Perion, ſaid the Prince, who is reputed a good and hardie Knight, for he hath maried the Siſter to your Queene, who maketh me beleeue that he will not denie me: when I ſhall let him vnderſtand, how ſhee hath nouriſhed me, and that I am her ſeruant. It is true, quoth the King, but for this preſent haue a little patience, and when time ſerueth, you ſhalbe honorably knighted: in meane while he gaue charg, that all his needfull accou • rements for the cauſe ſhould be prouided.

Now did the king aduertiſe Gandales heereof, who was ſo contented therewith, as he ſoone diſpatched a Damoſell toward the yong Prince: by whome he ſent the Sword, the Ring, and the letter couered with waxe, which he found in the cheſt he tooke out of the ſea. Such ſpeede made the Damoſell, as ſhe came to the Prince, at what time he was ſporting with Oriana and the other Ladies, while the Queene ſlept. At that inſtant was he in ſuch a ſollemne thought of Oriana, as not daring to lift vp His eyes to behold her, ſaid within himſelfe. Ah God, why haſt thou endued this Lady with ſuch exellent beauty, that vnhappy I ſhould ſuffer ſo extreame paſſions by louing her? Ah mine eyes, too high did ye looke when ye beheld her, of whome you are not worthy: but if the worſt happen, death ſhall ſatiſfie this timeritie, whereto my hart (for her) is humbled. In this thought he was like to fall downe, ſo had he forgotten and ouergone himſelfe: when a page came to him, ſaying. Gentleman, there is a ſtrange Damoſell attending without, who hath brought you certaine preſents, and would ſpeake with ye. When ſhe (who loued him) heard this meſſage, her hart began to tremble in ſuch ſorte, as being not able to endure this new flame, ſhe called to the Prince, ſaying. I pray ye ſtay heere, and let the Damoſel come in, that we may haue the ſight of what ſhee hath brought: which he did, & the Damoſell being entred, thus ſpake to him. My Lord, your good friend Gandales ſaluteth you, as the man whom he onely loueth, and hath ſent ye this Ring, this waxe, & this Sword, which he deſireth ye (for his ſake) to keepe while you liue. The Prince hauing receiued the preſents, laid the Ring and waxe aſide, to behold the Sword, which being without a ſheath, was wrapped in a fine linnen cloth, whereat he greatly meruailed: and while he was muſing thereon, Oriana tooke the waxe, thinking it to be ſome other thing, and ſaid. Beleeue me Gentleman, for my part I would haue this waxe. You may haue it if you pleaſe Madame, quoth he, but me thinkes this faire Ring were better for ye. I will haue nothing but this waxe, ſaid Oriana, and ſo tooke it. During theſe diſcourſes, the King came, who ſaid to the Prince: What thinke ye of that Sword? My Lord, quoth he, I find it a very faire one, but I maruaile wherefore it hath no ſcabbard. It is ſaid the King, very neer fifteene yeeres ſince it had one: & hauing ſo ſaid, he laid it aſide, proceeding thus. You would be a Knight, and know not whether you ought to be one or no: therefore it is neceſſary that you vnderſtand what you are, and I to tell you ſo much as I know. Heereupon he declared, how he was found in a cheſt on the ſea, with the Sword & the Ring, as you haue already heard. I beleeue my Lord, quoth the Prince, that for your pleaſure you vſe this inuention, becauſe the Damoſell when ſhe entred ſaid: that my good friend Gandales ſent me theſe preſents, but I think ſhe fayled in her words, and would haue ſaid my father Gandales. Notwithſtanding (my Lord) if it be ſo as you haue reherſed, I am not diſpleaſed thereat: except in not knowing of whence I am, nor they me, yet do I thinke my ſelfe a Gentleman, for my hart perſwades me of no leſſe. Now therefore 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, ſeeing I haue no parents by whom I may be named, not knowing what I am. When the King heard him ſpeake ſo vertuouſly, he eſteemed much better of him then before, thinking him-ſelfe, that he could not but be a man of calling and hardy.

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 thereof, departed to receiue his brother, & embracing him, thus ſpake. I ſee my good brother, you meant to take me vnprouided, for little did I thinke of your ſo ſudden arriual in this country. Noble brother, anſwered King Perion, I come to requeſt the ayd of my friends, becauſe I haue more neede of them at this time then euer I had: for Abies King of Ireland threatneth me with ſtrong warre, and is with great puiſſance entred my Kingdome, ſo that he and Dagauel his Cozin, haue laid very ſeuere ſiedge to me. And which is worſt of all, Fortune hath ſo hardly dealt with me, that certaine whome I truſted haue forſaken me, and the greateſt part of my other friends are ouerthrown in the skirmiſhes we haue had together, ſo that now I come to requeſt your ſuccour in this extreame neede • Truely brother, anſwered Languines, you may be ſure thereof, and your miſ-fortune grieueth me not a little: but I wil prouide therefore ſo well as I can. Agraies who was newly knighted, being hot and ready to Armes, hauing heard the re • ueſt of his Vnckle, and the grant the King his father had made him of aſſiſtance: came and fell on his knee before him, ſaying. I beſeech ye father let me obtaine one boone at your hands. The King who loued him as himſelfe, anſwered. Demand what thou wilt, for it ſhall not be denied thee. I deſire your ſufferance, quoth Agraies, that I may go to Gaule to aid the Queene my Aunte. In good faith, said the King, well content am I, 〈◊〉 in good equipage ſhalt thou goe and ſtrongly 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, onely for the good reporte he had heard of him: for he thought not then of any affinitie or parentage, but would rather be Knighted by his hand then any other, in reſpect of his high & hautghy deedes of Armes. And to attaine his purpoſe, he thought beſt to entreat the Queene, hoping that if ſhe would doe ſo much for him, as to moue the King her brother therein ſhe ſhold not be gainlaid: and for he ſaw her ſo ſad, that he durſt not ſpeake to her, he boldly went to Ortana, and ſetting his knee to the ground, ſaid. I pray ye Madame tell me what cauſeth the Queene 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 whith ſuch vehemency of loue, as ſhe could hardly tell how to diſſemble it, yet thus ſhe anſwered. Gentleman of the ſea and my friend, I will take paine to know, then ſhall I tell ye with all my hart, ſeeing it is the firſt requeſt that euer ye made to me. Madame, quoth he, I know in my ſelfe ſo ſmall deſeruing toward you, that I account my ſelfe vnworthy to requeſt any thing of you: but I ſhould thinke I were happy if I had the meane to obey you, or that it would pleaſe you to cōmand me. What? ſaid ſhee, haue you ſo baſe a mind, & ſuch ſmal eſtimatiō of your ſelfe? 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, replied 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 the Queene 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 onely I reputed my ſelfe, ſo that I haue no authoritie ouer my ſelfe. Certes, ſaid Oriana, you tooke her words to better end, then at that time ſhe meant them: which I take in good part, and am content it ſhall be ſo. No ſooner had ſhe thus ſaid, but the Prince was ouercome with ſuch ioy, as he had no power to anſwer. Oriana perceiuing it, made no ſhew thereof, but ſaid ſhe would goe to the Queene, to doe what he had deſired: and returned ſoone after, telling him, that her griefe was for the Queene 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 go ſuccor her, with your leaue. And without my leaue, quoth Oriana, will ye not goe? Not for death, ſaid he, for without your gracious fauour, my conquered hart can haue no force or vertue in any perill. At theſe words Oriana ſmiled, ſaying. Seeing then you are mine, I grant you to be my Knight, and you ſhall aide the Queenes ſiſter. Moſt humbly did the Prince giue her thanks, 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 hands (ſo pleaſed you to intreate it) I would more willingly receiue it, then of any other. Nor will I let for that, ſaid 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 grant it. So preſently ſhe went to her, and told what ſhe and the Gentleman of the ſea had concluded, to attaine his Knight-hood, and how faine he would haue it at King Perions hand, for which cauſe ſhe intreated her aſſiſtance in the ſute. Mabila who loued the Prince very well, thus anſwered. I aſſure ye (ſiſter) there ſhal be no want in me, for ſo well doth the Gentleman deſerue, as would make one do much more then this for him, wherefore let him be ready this night in the Queens Chappell: then when time ſhall ſerue, we will go with our women to accompany him, and I will ſend for the King mine Vncle (which ſhall be ſomewhat before the breake of day) that he may come ſee me, and he being come to vs, you and I will moue him in the matter, which I hope he will grant vs, conſidering he is a very gracious and affable Prince. This is very well appointed, anſwered Oriana: wherefore they ſent for the Prince, and tolde him al the platforme they had laid: who humbly thanking them, wold prouide all things ready for him-ſelfe, and therefore 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 Queenes Chappell, becauſe I hope this night to receiue mine order: and for I muſt right ſoone depart hence, I would know if you haue any will to beare me company. Beleeue me, quoth Gandalin, neuer with my will ſhall I depart from ye. Of theſe words was the Prince ſo glad, that the teares ſtood in his eyes with ioy. Well ſaid he, prouide all things ready as I told ye: wherein Gandalin failed not, for ere ſupper he tooke ſuch order, as all was done vnſeene of any, and the Prince got him ſecretly into the Chappell, where he armed himſelfe except the head & hands. So ſtaying there for the Ladies & King Perion, he fel on his knees before the Alter, deſiring God to be his aide: not onely in conquering ſuch as he ſhould deale withall in Armes, but alſo in obtaining her, who cauſed him to endure ſo many mortal paſſiōs. The night being come, & the Queen with-drawne, the Princeſſes Oriana and Mabila with their womē, came to the chappel where the Gentlemā of the ſea attended, & Mabila hauing ſent for K. Perion, he was no ſooner entred but ſhe thus began. My L. ſeeing you haue taken ſo much paines for me as to come hither, I pray you grant Madame Oriana, daughter: to King Liſuart, a ſmall requeſt ſhe will make to ye. I would be loath, ſaide the King to deny her, as well for her Fathers honor as her own ſake. Oriana aroſe to thanke him, whom whē he beheld ſo faire, he thought all the world could not match her in beauty: thus ſpeaking to her. Madame, doth it pleaſe you to command me any thing? Not cōmand my Lord, quoth ſhe, but intreat ye to giue my Gentleman the order of knight-hood: this ſaid ſhe, pointing to him as he kneeled before the Altar. When the king ſaw him, he wondred at his goodly ſtature, and ſaid to him. My friend, would you receiue the order of Knight-hood; Yea my good Lord, anſwered the Prince, may it pleaſe you to giue it me. In Gods name be it done, ſaid the King, who giue you grace ſo well to proceede therein, as he hath beſtowed ſeemely perfection on you. Then putting on his right ſpur, and dubbing him with his Sword, thus ſpake. Now haueye the Order appertaining to a Knight, but I would oppertunity had ſerued me, to haue giuen it you with greater honor: notwithſtanding, according to mine opinion of you, I hope you will proue ſuch, as your renowne ſhall ſupply what wanteth here in performance. Afterward King Perion took leaue of the Ladies, who highly thanked him, & then ſet on his way toward Gaule, cōmending the new Knight to the heauenly protection: this was the firſt act, that might beare teſtimony of theſe louers ſweete deſires. If it ſeeme to the Reader, that their purpoſe was not according to affection, but ſimple in reſpect of their vehement paſſions: I anſwer, that they ought to excuſe their age, likewiſe it often commeth to paſſe, that they which thinke themſelues moſt expert in thoſe pleaſing and amorous actions, haue beene by this God ſo ſtrongly bound, and liuely attainted: as not only he depriued them of ſpeech, but of iudgment alſo, & it is neceſſary for ſuch perſons to vſe greater words, then theſe two who as yet had not learned them. But this new Knight being thoroughly furniſhed, and ready to his iourney by his Ladies conſent: would in thanking the company, take a more ſecret conge of Oriana. And ſhe who for his ſudden parting, felt new paſſions in her heart, yet neuertheleſſe diſſembling thē: tooke him by the hand, and walking aſide, thus ſpake. Gentleman of the ſea, you will be gone 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 you to be iſſued of better place. Then reherſed he all that King Languines had told him, wherein ſhe conceiued very great pleaſure: which done, they committed each other to God. So departed the Prince from this company, and right-ſoone found Gandalin, who attended for him at the Kings lodging dore, with the reſt of his Armes and his Horſe, whereon he mounted, and left the Citie vnſeene of any, becauſe as yet it was not day ſo rod they on till they came into a Forreſt.

Now is the greateſt part of the day ſpent, before they would refreſh themſelues in any place: but hunger conſtrained them to feede on ſuch viandes as Gandalin had brought with him from the Citie. During this time, they heard in the Wood on their right hand the voyce of ſome one, which ſeemed to them very doleful, wherefore the Prince rode preſently that way: where he foūd a knight dead, and hard by him another 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 ſoore, as made his hart to faile him: and which was worſt of all, the villanous woman tocauſe his death the ſooner, cruelly thruſt her hands into his wounds. But when the wounded knight eſpied the Prince, ſo well as he could he craued ſuccor, ſaying. Ah gentle Sir, for Gods ſake ſuffer me not to be thus murthered by this ribaud. Greatly was the Prince abaſhed at this wicked dealing, and therefore very roughly thus ſpake. Woman withdraw your ſelfe, for you doe the thing not beſeeming you or your like. She as one aſhamed, retired, and the Knight full of anguiſh fell in a ſwoune, which made the Prince very deſirous to know what he was: but fearing that he had already yeelded his breath, quickly alighted, & vſed ſuch good meanes as reuiued him againe, when he began to cry. Ah I am dead, good friends bring me to ſome place where I may haue councell for my ſoule. Take courage, anſwered the Prince, for you ſhal haue what you demand: but I pray ye tell me, what fortune 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 choiſe, for the good loue I bare her, and eſpouſed her as my wife: neuertheleſſe ſhe diſcourteous creature, forgetting the good and honor I had done her, hath ſundry times abandoned her honeſt regarde, namely this night paſt with this Knight here dead, whom I hauing neuer before ſeene, by chance yeſterday he came to me: and this laſt night thus villanouſly abuſed me, where taking him with the head, we had a combate together, wherein (as you ſee) he loſt his life. But when this ſtrumpet ſaw I had ſlaine him, fearing I would do as much to her: ſhe fell at my feete and deſired pardon, whereto I eaſily condiſcended, prouided, that ſhe offended no more. Hereupon, I intreated her to bind vp my wounds, but ſhe perceiuing how grieuouſly I was hurt, and brought into very weake eſtate through ouer-much loſſe of my bloud, to reuenge the adulterous villaines death, ſhe aſſaied to kill me outright: and to make me languiſh the more in dying, cruelly ſhe thruſt her hands into my wounds, ſo that well I perceiue I cannot long liue. Therefore I beſeech ye good Sir, helpe me to an Hermitage which is neere at hand, where I ſhall find 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 Horſe to the Hermitage: in meane while the wretched woman ſtole away priuily, and a little before, ſhe fearing that her Husband would be reuenged on her, ſent for helpe to three of her bretheren, who dwelled not far 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 cried out. Ah helpe me good bretheren, for heere before is a theefe, who hath ſlaine this Knight which lieth heere, and hath beſide ſo wounded my Husband: as there is no hope of life left in him: let him not therefore eſcape ye, nor he that is in his company, becauſe the one is as deepe in the euill as the other. Such like ſpeeches vſed this Harlot, that by the death of the Prince and Gandalin, her treaſon might be couered: therefore that her Husband ſhould not dy 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. Here-upon the three bretheren (too light of beleefe) galloped 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 ſelfe then, ſaid the bretheren, for thou haſt offended vs all three, and we all wil be reuenged on thee if we may. By good hap the Prince had his Sheeld and Launce ready, and his Helmet very well laced, wherefore without any further anſwer, he ſharply charged them, and meeting with the firſt, pearced through both his Sheeld and arme: and withall threw his Horſe & him ſo fiercely againſt the ground, as his right ſhoulder was broken in the fall: in like manner was one of the Horſes legges, ſo that neither the one or other could riſe. At this encounter he brake his Launce, wherefore he ſuddenly drew his Sword, and addreſſing himſelfe to the other twaine, gaue one of them ſuch a forcible ſtroke, as ſlicing through his Armour, entred the fleſh to the very bone on his ſhoulder likewiſe, ſo that therewith 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 imbrace the necke of his Horſe, thereby to ſheeld himſelfe from falling, finding himſelfe as greatly amazed as the other were. Here-upon the woman that brought them thether fled away, which the Prince perceiuing cried to Gandalin that he ſhould ſtay her: in meane while the firſt Knight hauing recouered himſelfe, vſed theſe ſpeeches 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 thinke I haue done wrong, in ſuccouring the husband to this traiterous woman, whom cruelly ſhe hath cauſed to dy. When the three Knights heard that, they were very much abaſhed, and then thought they had bene abuſed by their ſiſter, wherefore they thus replied. In ſooth my Lord, ſo pleaſe you to aſſure vs, we will ſhew on what occaſion we aſſailed you. You ſhall haue good aſſurance ſo to doe, ſaid the Prince, yet will I not acquit ye from the combate. Then he that firſt ſpake, reherſed all the words of their ſiſter, according as hath beene already declared. In good ſooth quoth the Prince, neuer was villanie diſguiſed in ſuch ſorte, for ſhe hath done far otherwiſe: as you may vnderſtand by her husband himſelfe, who being nere his death, I conuaied to an Hermitage hard at hand. Seeing it hath ſo fallen out, ſaid the three bretheren, diſpoſe of vs as they that remain 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, & there before him recite al that hath happened: ſaying withall how you were thereto conſtrained by a yong Knight that ſent ye thether, & who this day departed from his Court, deſiring him to cenſure on this miſ-deed as he ſhall thinke good. All this they promiſed and ſwore to performe: wherefore commending them to God, he rode away, leauing them together.

CHAP. VI.

How Vrganda the vnknowne, brought a Launce to the Gentle-man of the ſea.

THis quarrell thus ended with the three Knights, the Gentle-man of the ſea tooke the way which before he had left: but they had not ridden long, till they ſaw two Damoſels come toward them by two ſundry waies, who addreſſed them-ſelues to meete together, which when they had done, they entred into communication. One of them bare a Launce in her hand, and whē they were come to the Prince, ſhe with the Launce aduanced her ſelfe to him ſaying. My Lord, take this Launce which I giue ye, becauſe I can aſſure ye, that within three dayes it will ſtand ye in good ſteed, as therewith you ſhall deliuer from death, the houſe from whence ye are diſcended. The Prince amazed at theſe words, 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 whereof ſhall be: When one of your beſt friends, ſhall by you haue one of the greateſt honors that euer he can receiue, whereby he ſhall fall into the deepeſt danger, that any Knight hath done theſe ten yeeres ſpace. Beleeue me Lady, anſwered the Prince, ſuch honor (if God pleaſe) I will not doe my friend. Full well I known, quoth the Damoſell, that ſo it ſhall come to paſſe: then putting on her Palfray, departed: this Damoſell you muſt note, was Vrganda the vnknowne. When the other Damoſell (who heard the words) ſaw her forſake her company, ſhe determined for certaine daies to ſtay with the Prince, to ſee what he ſhould doe, wherefore ſhe ſaid. My Lord, although I am a ſtranger, if you thinke it conueneient, I would gladly for a while abide with ye, deferring a iourny that I haue to my miſtreſſe. The Prince well perceiued ſhe was a ſtranger, which made him to demand of whence ſhe was: where-to ſhe replied, that ſhe was of Denmarke. And that himſelfe could not gain-ſay, becauſe her language gaue aſſurance thereof, for hauing heard his Lady Oriana at her firſt comming into Scotland, it made him the better remember that Country ſpeech, whereupon he ſaid. If you pleaſe (faire Damoſell) to goe with me, I will defend ye to my power: but I pray ye tell me, if you know the other Lady that euen now gaue me this Launce? Truely Sir, quoth ſhe, neuer did I ſee her, till now I met her on the way, and then ſhe ſaid 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 •… ot knowing her, if I forbare now preſently to follow her, you muſt thinke Lady the cauſe is, that I cannot find her againſt her will: and thus deuiſing they rode on, vntill the dark euening ouer-tooke them.

At this time it ſo chanced that they met with a Squire, who demanded where they intended to find lodging trauailing ſo late. Where we can, anſwered the Prince. In good faith, ſaid the Squire, if you meane to haue lodging, you muſt leaue the way which now you take, for you cannot long time come to any that way: but if you will follow me, I will conduct you to a Caſtle belonging to my father, who ſhall do you all the honor and good entertainment may be deuiſed. The Damoſel thinking this councel good, deſired the Prince to accept there-of, which he did, therefore the Squire rode before them as their guide, leading them derectly forth of the way, becauſe he had neuer ſeene the combates of Knights errand: and hoping to conduct them the day following to a Caſtell where ſuch paſtime was vſed, but that night he brought thē to their lodging, feaſting and entertaining them very ſumptuouſly: yet could the Prince take no reſt all the night, for thinking on the Lady that brought him the Launce. On the morrow very early they would be gone, and taking leaue of their hoſte, the Squire ſaid 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 thereto, but ouer a long draw-bridge, hauing at the end a faire Tower for defence thereof. When the Prince beheld it, he thought he muſt needs paſſe thether by the bridge, yet he asked the Squire if there were any other way. No my Lord, quoth he, for this is the vſaull paſſage. March on then, ſaid the Prince, wherewith the Squire, the Damoſell and their company ſet forward, but the Gentleman of the ſea remaining behind, entred into ſuch thought of his Lady Oriana, as he had well neere forgotten himſelfe: but at length he heard the noyſe of ſixe Halberders, armed with Corſlets and Helmets, who at the entrance of the bridge had arreſted the Damoſell, and there would force her to take an oath, that ſhe ſhould neuer beare loue to hir friend, if he would not promiſe her to aide King Abies of Ireland againſt King Perion: which ſhe refuſing, cried to the Prince for his aſſiſtance. This clamour made him forget his muſing, when adreſſing himſelfe to the Palliardes, he ſaid. Traiterous villaines, who commanded you to lay hands on this Lady being in my charge; In ſpeaking theſe words, he came to the chiefeſt of the ſixe, from whom right-ſoone he caught his hatchet, and gaue him ſuch a ſtroke therewith, as he fell to the ground. All the other together preſently ſet vpon him, but one of thē he ſliced to the very teeth, and ſooner after another bare him company, with the loſſe of his arme. When the three that were left ſaw their companions ſo handled, they tooke themſelues to flight, and the Prince followed them ſo neere, as one of them left his legge behinde him, the other twaine he let go, returning where he left the Damoſel, to whom he ſaid. Now boldly go on, and like euill fortune may they haue, that encourage any villany, to lay forſible hand on Lady or Damoſell. She being aſſured by theſe words, went on with the Prince and his Squires: but ere they had gone any thing far, they heard a great noyſe & tumult within the Caſtell. Me thinkes Sir, ſaid the Damoſel, I heare a meruailous murmuring within this Fortreſſe, therefore I would aduiſe ye to take the reſt of your armour. Goe on quoth the Prince, and feare not, for where Ladies are euill entreated (who ought euery where to goe in ſafety) there hardly abideth any man of valew. In ſooth, ſaid ſhe, if you doe not what I haue deſired, I will not paſſe any further: and ſo much ſhee perſwaded him, that at length he laced on his Helmet: afterward he went into the Caſtell, at the entrance whereof, he met a ſquire weeping, who ſaid. Ah God, why will they murder (without cauſe) the beſt knight in the world? alas they wold inforce him to promiſe, what is impoſſible for him to accompliſh. Theſe words 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 helpe of ten armed Halberders had round beſet him, ſaying ſweare, if not, thou dieſt. Greatly did it grieue the Prince, to ſee ſuch out-rage offered to King Perion, wherefore he thus called to them. Traiterous villaines, what moues you to miſuſe the beſt Knight in the world; by heauen you ſhall all die for him. At theſe words, one of the Knights left the King, and taking fiue Halberders with him, came to the Prince, ſaying. It likewiſe behoueth you to ſweare, if not, you can eſcape no better then an other. What? quoth he, ſhal 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, wherefore the Prince now ſaw he muſt ſtand vpon his defence: whereupon hee ran fiercely againſt the Knight, charging him in ſuch ſorte, as he fell downe dead ouer the crupper of his Horſe, for in the fall he brake his necke. Which the Prince beholding, not tarring any longer with the Halberders, came to the other knight that combated with K. Perton, piercing his Launce quite through his body, ſo that he accompanied the firſt in fortune King Perion ſeeing himſelfe thus ſuccoured, ſo cheered vp his hart, as he did much better then before againſt his enemies, cauſing them by ſharpe ſtrokes of his Sword to retire: in meane while the Gentle-man of the ſea, (being on Horſe-backe) ranne among them and ſcattered them, tumbling one downe heere, and another there, ſo that at length by the aid 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, whereat they were ſo affrighted, as they caſt themſelues downe headlong frō the wals: only two got them into a Chamber, where they thought to remaine in ſafetie, notwithſtanding he purſued them ſo neer, as he buckled pel mel with them. But within the Chamber on a bed lay an ancient knight, whoſe vnweldy age had taken from him the vſe of his legges, to them that came in he vſed theſe ſpeeches. Cowardly villaines, frō whom run ye ſo ſhamefully; From a knight, anſwered one of them, who hath plaide the Diuell 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, o • eſſe thou dieſt. The poore man ſeeing himſelfe in ſuch perill, ſhewed him the old knight lying on the bed: but when the Prince ſaw him ſo old 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 heere? Well dooth thine age excuſe thee from bearing Armes, yet ſhall I giue thee thy deſert belonging to ſuch a villaine. With theſe words he made offer to ſmite off his head: Wherefore the affrighted olde man cried: Alas my Lord, for Gods ſake mercy. None at all, quoth the Prince, thou art dead if thou ſweareſt not to me, that while thou liueſt, ſuch like treaſon ſhall be no more maintained in this place: whereto the olde knight right gladly tooke his oath. Now tell mee, ſaide the Prince, wherefore haſt thou heeretofore kept this cuſtome heere; For the loue of King Abies of Ireland, anſwered the Knight, who is mine Nephew, and becauſe I cannot aid him with my perſon in his warre, I was deſirous to ſuccour him with ſuch Knights errand as paſſed this way. Falſe villaine, anſwered the Prince, what haue Knights errand to do with thy deſire: ſo ſpurning the bed with his foote, threw it downe, and the olde Knight vnderit: where commending him to all the Diuels, he left him, and comming downe into the Court, tooke a Horſe which was one of the ſlaine Knights, and bringing it to the King, ſaid. Mount your ſelfe my Lord, for it little likes me to ſtay any longer here, where ſuch bad people haue their habitation. The king preſently went to Horſe-bake, 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 neere my death: warranting me alſo hereafter frō the enimies of this place, & ſhewing your ſelfe a good friend to Ladies and knights errand. As for me, I am the ſame man againſt whom they kept this ſtraight paſſage, importing the cruell oath for which you combated. My Lord, anſwered the Prince, I am a knight deſirous to do you any ſeruice. Beleeue me, quoth the king, that haue I already well perceiued, for hardly ſhould I haue found ſo good a friend to helpe me: yet will I not giue ouer till I know ye. Alas my Lord, ſaid he, that will little profit ye. Notwithſtanding, quoth the King, I pray ye take off your Helmet: which he would not do, but put downe his Beuer a little. Whē the king ſaw that his intreatie would not preuaile, he deſired the Damoſell to obtaine ſo much for him: whereto ſhe condiſcended, tooke the Prince by the hand, ſaying. I beſeechye Sir, grant the king what he hath requeſted. He ſeeing her importunate, took off his Helmet, when preſently the king knew him, that it was the ſame man he had knighted at the Ladies motion, wherefore embracing him, he ſaid. Right glad am I to know ſo deere a friend. My Lord, quoth the Prince, I knew you ſo ſoone as I came to the Caſtell, to be the man that gaue me mine order of knight-hood, wherewith (ſo pleaſe it God) I meane to ſerue you while your warre continueth in Gaule: & willingly I would not be knowne by any one till your troubles be finiſhed. You ha ue already, ſaid the King, done 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 happy, that it was my fortune to make ſo good a Knight. Such like words vſed King Perion, litle thinking how neere they were allied together, & thus they rode deuiſing, till at length they came to a double way, when he demanded 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 Country. God haue you then in his keeping, ſaid the Prince, for I muſt needes ride this other way. I pray ye, quoth the King, remember your comming into Gaule as you promiſed me, for the hope I haue in you, hath abridged part of my ſorrow, and giueth me aſſurance withall, that by your meanes I ſhall recouer my loſſe. So tooke they leaue of each other, the king toward Gaule, and the Prince in company with the Damoſell and Gandalin: but becauſe ſhe had now ſeene what ſhe deſired, namely the proofe of the Launce which Vrganda gaue him, ſhe wold 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 the Lady that gaue ye the Launce, ſaid ſhe brought it to the beſt knight in the world, and ſurely I haue ſeene ſo much, as I ſtand in no doubt of her ſpeeches: wherefore I ſhall now ſhape my courſe to find her I am ſent to, as before I tolde ye. I pray ye Lady, quoth he, tell me what ſhe is. It is, ſaid ſhe, the Princeſſe Oriana, Daughter to king Liſuart of great Brittaine. When he heard her named whom he loued ſo deerely, his hart began to tremble in ſuch ſorte, as he had fallen beſide his Horſe, but that Gādalin ſtaied him, yet fetching a great ſigh, ſaid. Ah God, my hart faileth me, the Damoſell thinking ſome ſudden ſicknes was the cauſe thereof, would haue had him vnarmed: but hee tolde her it was needleſſe, for he was oftentimes wont to feele ſuch paſſions. The Squire (who all this while had beene their guide) tooke leaue of the Prince, as king the Damoſell if her way lay toward the Courte of King Languines: which ſhe affirming, he ſaid he would accompany her thether, becauſe hee had buſines of ſome importance there. So hauing courteouſly ſaluted each other, they returned the ſame way they came, & the Prince rode on with Gandalin to ſeeke aduentures.

Heere leaueth the Author, to tel ye what happened to Galaor, whom the Giant caried away, and gaue in keeping to the aged Hermet, as already you haue heard. By this time had Galaor attained the age of ſixteene yeeres, meruailouſly encreaſing in ſtature & comely perfection: hauing no other exerciſe, then reading on a Booke which the olde man lent him, diſcourſing the deeds of Armes of ſundry ancient Knights. Heerein 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, Very earneſtly he queſtioned thereon with the Hermet, but the holy man who knew right well, that ſo ſoone as he receiued the order, he ſhould combate againſt the Giant Albadan: his eyes being filled with teares, he thus anſwered. My ſoone, much better were it for you to labour in the ſafetie of your ſoule, then to aduenture on the order of Knight-hood, which is to be maintained with wonderous trauaile. Father, quoth Galaor, very hardly ſhall I follow the calling, which I take againſt my will: but in that whereof my hart hath made choyſe, if God grant me good ſucceſſe, will I aduance his ſeruice, for there-out may I not be during life. The good Hermit, 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 fault of high linage, you neede not diſpaire of good hap, in reſpect you are ſon to a King and Queene: but keepe that to your ſelfe, and let not the Giant know how I told ye ſo much. When Galaor heard this, he was exceedingly contented, ſaying to the Hermit. In ſooth Father, the care I haue had all my life time to be a Knight, hath beene very great: but now I thanke God and you, I am rid thereof, for by that you haue tolde me, I cannot miſſe ofit. The Hermit noting his earneſt affection, doubted leaſt ſoone after he would be gone: wherefore he gaue the Giant to know his Schollers forwardnes, as alſo how his conſtitution did now very well ſerue him, being wonderfull deſirous of his knight-hood, and therefore he ſhould now deale in the cauſe as beſt himſelfe pleaſed. No ſooner was the Giant enformed hereof, but preſently he got him to Horſe-backe, and rode to the Hermit, with whom he found Galaor, of more large ſtature then his yeeres expreſſed, very comely and beautyfull in euery parte, whereupon he thus ſpake to him. I vnderſtand Sonne, that you would be a Knight to follow Armes, truely you ſhall, prepare your ſelfe to go with me when time ſerueth, and your deſire ſhalbe honorably ſatisfied. Father anſwered Galaor, heerein conſiſteth the ſumme of mine affection: ſo not long after, the Giant departed from the Hermit, taking Galaor with him, who falling on his knee before the reuerent olde man, deſired that as he had fatherly nourſhed him, ſo ſtill he would remember him in his deuout oriſons. The holy man with the teares tricling downe his cheekes, kiſſed and bleſſed him, then mounted Galaor on Horſ-back and followed the Giant, who brought him home to his Caſtell: where for certaine time he practiſed to combate at Armes, as alſo brauely to manage Horſes, hauing all things conuenient for the ſame, and two maiſters very expert therein. When he had continued a yeere at theſe exerciſes, the Giant ſeeing him worthy to receiue honor, & ſtrong enough to endure chiualrie: diſpoſed thereon as you ſhall read hereafter.

Now againe doth the Author leaue him, and diſcourſeth of that which chanced to the Gentleman of the ſea, who after he departed from King Perion and the Damoſell, rod two daies together, without any aduenture: and on the third about mid-day, he arriued at a very goodly Fortreſſe, that appertained to a Gentleman named Galpan. This Galpan was then the moſt valiant Knight in all that Country, and therefore was greatly feared of all his Neighbours, yet did he there maintaine an abhominable and wicked cuſtome: forgetting God, who was cheefely to be honored, bequeathed his endeuours to the ſeruice of the Diuell. For he conſtrained all Ladies and Damoſells that paſſed by his Caſtell, to enter in, where vilainouſly he tooke his pleaſure of them: and not contented therewith, enforced them to ſweare, that while they liued they ſhould beare affection to none but him, if any denied, he cauſed them cruelly to be put to death. Likewiſe he compelled ſuch Knights as trauailed that way, to combate one alone, againſt his two bretheren, but if they were vanquiſhed, he would force the conquerour to deale with himſelfe, he being the moſt hardy knight in al thoſe parts. If it happened that he brought thē 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, hee would depriue them of life. But God diſpleaſed with the cruelty, 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 guerdō to their deſerts, making them an example to all other, as you ſhall heare preſently recited.

CHAP. VII.

How the Gentleman of the ſea, combated with the guarders of Galpans Caſtell, and afterward with his bretheren, and in the end with Galpan himſelfe.

BY this time the Gentlemam of the ſea is come nere the caſtle, where he ſaw a Lady comming towards him greatly afflicted, hauing no other company then a Squire and a Page. This ſorrowfull woman breathed forth many griueous ſighes, ſhewing a violent kind of warre, betweene her hands and the golden treſſes of her haire, which ſhe diſcheueled and rent very pitifully. Hereat was the Prince not a little amazed, and willing to know what moued her to theſe extreames, he came to her with theſe ſpeeches. Faire Gentlewomā, I pray ye tel me the cauſe of your ſorrow. Ah my Lord, qd. ſhee, death would be now right welcome to me, being the onely friend to beare me company: for ſuch is my misfortune, as teares are more conueniēt for me then rememberance of the cauſe. In ſooth Lady, ſaide the Prince, if in any reſpect I can do ye good, you ſhall find me ready withall my hart. Being ſent Sir, quoth the Damoſell, by my miſtreſſes commandement, to a yong Knight, a man of ſome account in theſe parts, and paſſing along this way: foure cruell villaines ſet vpon me, and (whether I would or no) brought me into this Caſtel where a traiterous Knight diſhonorably forced me, compelling me afterward to ſweare, that I ſhould neuer loue any friend but him. This complaint moued the Prince to great admiration, and thus he anſwered. Follow me Lady, for your iniury ſhalbe reuenged, if God give me leaue. Heereupon the Damoſell immediatly went with him, and by the way he deſired her to tell him, what the man was to whom 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 ſory when he hears of my miſuſage. Great reaſon, ſaid the Prince, hath he ſo to do: and as thus they communed together, they came to the place where ſhee ſhewed him the foure Gardants, to whom he preſently ſaid. Diſloyall varlets, wherefore haue ye abuſed this Lady as ſhe trauailed on her iournie? Becauſe (quoth they; wee ſtood in no feare of you: but if you get ye not the ſooner, your entertainment ſhalbe worſe then hers was. Without any more talking he drew his Sword, and comming to one that heaued his hatchet againſt him, quite cut away the right arme from his body: then turning to another, cleft him ouer the face to the very eares. When the reſt ſaw their companions thus mained, they fled away ſo faſt as they could, running through a by way along a Riuer ſide: but the Prince making no ſhew of purſuing them, wiped his Sword and put it vp againe, then comming to the Damoſell, bad her go forward. My Lord, quoth ſhe, hard by is a gate, where I found two armed Knigthts attending. Well, ſaid he, and I ſhall find them when I come thether. So rode they on, & as the Prince entred the baſe court, he ſaw the Dungeon dore open, and an armed Knight on Horſe back come forth, after whom they within let downe a Port-cullis, and ſhut the dore againe: then the Knight of the Caſtell aduancing himſelfe, very boldly thus ſpake to the Prince. Poore wretch, too ſoone art thou come hether to receiue ſhame and diſhonor. Diſhonor? quoth Prince, tuſh theſe are but words, leaue what ſhall happen to the preſence of God, who only is skilfull therein: and tell 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. Go to, ſaid the Knight, I ſhall ſee then what kinde of reuendge you vſe. So giuing the Spurrs to his Horſe, ran as fiercely as he could againſt the Prince, yet he failed in the attaint: but the Prince meeting him with full carire, gaue him ſuch a greeting with his Launce through the Sheeld, as the armour being vnable to reſiſt it, let paſſe the yron through both his ſhoulders, whereby he fell downe dead in the place. Hauing with-drawne his Launce, prepared him-ſelfe for another that came to ſuccor the firſt, who pearcing quite through the Princes Sheeld, left the head of his Launce in his armour, which was of ſufficiēt profe: but in the encounter he met his enimie ſo derectly, as he rent his Helmet from his head, caſting him ſo violently off his Saddie, as hee was able to ſit no more on Horſe-backe. The Knight ſeeing himſelfe thus vnarmed, cried for ſome other to come helpe him, whereupon three Halberders iſſued forth, to whom he ſaid: Looke well my friendes that this man eſcape vs not. At theſe words, they ranne all three violently on the Prince, and buckled ſo neere him, as they ſlew his Horſe betweene his leggs, whereby he was conſtrained to fight on foote: and ſo offended was he thereat, that hauing recouered himſelfe, he ſmote 〈◊〉 Launce through the Knights head, which made him preſently yeeld the ghoſt. And now he beſtirres himſelfe againſt the other three, who cowardly ſtealing behinde him, woūded him on the ſhoulder, whereby he loſt a great quantity of his bloud: but full well he recompenſed the villaine that did it, letting forth the deereſt bloud he had in his body, by cleauing him with his Sword as it bad beene an Axe. The other two terrified heer-with, ranne vp into a long Gallery, crying: Come my Lord, come quickly, for we are all vanquiſhed. In meane while, the Prince ſeeing his owne Horſe was ſlaine, mounted on that belonged to the knight he ſlew laſt: ſoone after he ſaw another Knight ſtand looking forth at a dore, who perceiuing the Prince had eſpied him, ſaid. What hath moued thee to come in heere and kill my people? Nothing els, anſwered the Prince, thē the deſire I haue to reuenge this Lady, who hath beene here wronged moſt diſhonorably. As thus he ſpake, the Damoſell came to him, and knowing the Lord of the Caſtell that forced her, ſhe ſaid. Ah gentle Knight, ſee that this monſter eſcape you not, for by him haue I loſt my former honor. Libidinous Ruffian, quoth the Prince, deerely ſhalt thou pay for thy diſloyall dealing: Goe arme thee, elſe will I ſlay thee naked as thou art, for to thee or ſuch like villaines ought to be vſed no fauour: but the Damoſell more and and more ſtill cried. Kill, kill the Traitour, that hereafter he liue not to abuſe any more, otherwiſe will their ſhame be laid to your charge. Lewde woman, anſwered the Knight, in an euill hower came he hither by thy councell, and in thy company. And thou that threatneſt me ſo brauely, attend my cō ming, and flie not away, for by no other meanes canſt thou warrant thy ſelfe. So he departed, and ſoon 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 keepe 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 Sheelds and armour, wounding ſome-what deep into their fleſh: and ſo forcibly did their bodies meet together, as they were both laid along on the gound, when quickly recouering themſelues, with their Swords drawne they prepare to the combate. Fierce and cruell ſtrokes were giuen on either ſide, to the great admiration of ſuch as beheld them, for many peeces of their Sheelds & armour was ſcattred round about them: & which is more, their Helmets were ſo torne and battered, as oftentimes their bare heads bore off the blowes, ſo that the ground was coloured with their bloud: but Galpan had receiued a wound through the ſight of his Helmet, which made the bloud trickle into his eyes, and he to wipe them retited backe alittle. What Galpan? ſaid the Prince, deſireſt thou to breath? doſt thou not remember that thou fighteſt for my head? if thou defendeſt not thine owne well, thou art like to looſe it. Be patient a while, anſwered Galpan, and let vs breath a little, for we haue time enough to make an end. It is no reaſonable motion, ſaid the Prince, ſeeing I fight not with thee for curteſie, but to reuenge the diſhonor thou haſt done to this Lady. With theſe words he gaue him ſuch a ſtroke on the head, as made him fall to the ground on his knees, yet quickly he aroſe and tooke hart a freſh: but the Prince would not let him range about as he deſired, for hee was ſo out of breath, that he could hardly lift vp his Sword, wherefore he did nothing but croutch vnder his Sheeld, yet was it ſo ſliced away in peeces, as very little was left to defend himſelfe withall. Galpan ſeeing he had no other remedie, began to flye before the Sword of his enimie, 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 heeles, got him by the Helmet and puld it off, and giuing a full ſtroke at him, therewith ſmot his head from the ſhoulders, afterward he came to the Damoſell, ſaying. Faire Lady, now may you chouſe an other friend 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 the Tower, they heard the dore ſhut too, wherefore he moū ted on Galpans Horſe, which was eſteemed one of the goodlyeſt in the world, and ſaid to the Damoſell. I pray ye Lady, now let vs be gone hence. My Lord, quoth ſhe, if it like you, I will cary his head to him whom I am ſent, and preſent it to him on your behalfe. Do not ſo, ſaid the Prince, for the cariage will be too troubleſome, but take the Helmet if you will. The Damoſell liking well of his aduiſe, commanded her Squire to cary it with him: and ſo they rode from the Caſtell, the ſeruants whereof were all gone, & had left the gates wide open. But the Prince not forgetting the Damoſels promiſe, that ſhe would tel him the Knights name ſhe was ſent vnto: therefore earneſtly he entreated her to ſatiſfie him therein. Good reaſō, quoth ſhe, his name is Agraies, Sonne to the King of Scotland. Praiſed be God, ſaid the Prince, who made me able to do ſo much, as ſo good a Knight ſhall be no more wronged by traiterous Galpan: for you are (in mine opinion) well auenged, and worthily may you call Agraies a good Knight, in reſpect he is one of the beſt I know, and if for him you haue receiued diſhonor, it now returneth to your commendation. Go then and ſay to him, that a Knight of his, humbly ſaluteth him, whom he ſhall field at the warres in Gaule when he commeth thither. Gentle Sir, quoth ſhe, ſeeing you loue him ſo well, I pray ye grant me one requeſt. That will I, quoth the Prince. Let me then, ſaid ſhe, vnderſtand your name. Lady, quoth he, at this time forbeare the knowledge thereof, and command what elſe you pleaſe, you ſhall not be denied. No other thing will I deſire anſwered the Damoſell. Beleeue me, ſaid the Prince, it is little courteſie to requeſt the thing, which willingly I would not reueale to any one. Yet muſt I needs know it, quoth the Damoſell, or elſe you do not performe your promiſe. When he perceiued ſhe would not be diſſwaded, ſome-what moued with anger he replied. Such as know me, call me the Gentleman of the ſea. So ſetting ſpurres to his horſe, 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 very freſhly, ſo that he might eaſily be tract by his bloud, & on his white Horſe 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 you tell me where haue you beene ſo wounded? In ſooth, quoth the Prince, at a Caſtle not very far hence. And how, ſaid the Knight, came you by that goodly white Horſe; I tooke it, anſwered the Prince, in requitall of mine owne, that was there ſlaine by traiterous villaines. But would Galpan, quoth the Knight, ſuffer ye ſo to do? Yea mary Sir, replied the Prince, he is now become more patient, for hee hath endured the loſſe of his head. When the Knight heard of Galpans death, he preſently alighted from his Horſe, and ran to kiſſe the Princes feete: but he would not ſuffer him, yet could he not hold him from embracing his Sheeld, ſaying. Ah Gentle Knight, how highly am I indebted to you; you are to this place the moſt wellcome man in the world, for by your meanes haue I thorowly recouered mine honor. Leaue wee this talke, ſaid the Prince, & ſay where I may quickly finde ſome remedy for my wounds. In my houſe, anſwered the knight, abideth a Neece of mine, who ſhal heale your hurts better then any other. So riding on they arriued at the caſtle, 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 and a halfe, compelling him to change his name, and ſweare to call himſelfe while he liued, the conquered by Galpan: but now, quoth he, ſeeing he is dead, mine honor is reſtored me againe. Afterwarde he cauſed the Prince to be vnarmed, and laid in a ſumptuous bed, where his wounds were dilligently attended by the Lady, who aſſur ed him in ſhort timeto make him well againe: if he would be aduiſed by her councell, which he promiſed faithfully to do.

CHAP. VIII.

How the third day after the Gentleman of the ſea departed from king Languines, the three Knights, came to the Court, bringing with them the wounded Knight in a Litter, and his diſloyall wife.

ON the third day after the Prince left the Court of King Languines, where hee receiued the order of Knight-hood, the three Knights came thither, with their wounded brother and his trothleſſe wife, of whom the diſcourſe hath beene 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 new Knights 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 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 body elſe knew that the Gentlman of the ſea was Knighted, but the Princeſſe Oriana, and the Ladies which accompanied her in the Chappell. Full ſoone was hee aduertiſed of his abſence from the Courte, but he thought hee was gone to viſite his father Gandales: thē the King turning to the knight in the Litter, ſaid. Me thinkes that a woman ſo vnfaithful as your wife hath beene, deſerueth not to liue. My Lord, quoth the Knight, doe therein as it ſhal like your maiſtey: as for me, I will neuer conſent that the thing I moſt loue ſhould die. This ſaid, the Knights tooke their leaue of the King, carying backe againe with thē their brother in the Litter: leauing their ſiſter to receiue iuſtice by the Kings appointmēt, who after their departure called for her & ſaid. Womā, thy malice hath bene too great in reſpect of thy husbands kindnes, but thou ſhalt be made an example to all other, that they heereafter offend not in the like: and ſo he commanded her to be burned aliue. The execution being doone, the King was in greater penſiueneſſe then before, becauſe he knew not who the new knight ſhould be, that parting ſo ſuddenly from his Court: but the Squire ſtanding by, which lodged the Gentleman of the ſea, & afterward conducted him to the Caſtell, where he deliuered King Perion from death, began to imagine that it was his gueſt, wherefore he ſaid to the King. It may be (my Lord) a yong Knight, with whom the Damoſell of Denmarke and my ſelfe were certaine daies, and then we left him when wee came thither. Knoweſt thou his name? quoth the King. No my Lord, quoth the Squire, but hee is both yong and very beautyfull: beſide I ſaw him do ſuch rare deeds of Chiualrie in ſo little time, as in mine opinion if I liue, he will proue one of the beſt Knights in the world. Then diſcourſed he at large euery action, as alſo how hee deliuered King Perion in the time of great danger. When the King had noted well his taile, his deſire to know him increaſed now more and more. My Lord, quoth the Squire, the Damoſell that came hether with me, happily can tel ye more tydings of him, for it was my chance to meet them together. Of what Damoſell ſpeakeſt thou? ſaid the King. Of her, anſwered the Squire, that lately came from great Brittaine to Madame Oriana. Preſently was ſhe ſent for, and hee demanded what the Knight was of whom there went ſuch reporte. Whereupon ſhe declared ſo much as ſhe knew, cheefely the occaſion wherefore ſhe rode with him, and in what manner the Launce was giuen him by Vrganda, as to the onely Knight in the world: but in ſooth, quoth ſhee, I know not his name, for neuer could I learne it of him. Ah God, ſaid the King, how may it be? Now was Oriana voyde of all doubting, for ſhee well knew it was her Gentleman of the ſea, but ſhee was ſo grieued with the news, which the Damoſell of Denmarke had brought her, as ſhee well knew not whom ſhe might cōplaine to: for the king her father ſent her word how ſhe ſhould prepare her ſelf in readineſſe to come to him, ſo ſoon as his Ambaſſadours ſhould bee ſent for her into Scotland. But much more willingly could ſhe affoord to ſtay in that Country, then there whether ſhe ſhould now goe againſt her mind, not onely in reſpect of her gentle vſage there, but becauſe ſhe imagined by being far thence, ſhe ſhould be further from him that had the prime of her affection: beſide, ſhe might there hardly afterward heare any newes of him, but continuing in Scotland ſhe could eaſily 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 Knights, 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 with his Sonne Agraies, (who now ſtood vpon departing toward Gaule to ſuccour the king his Vnccle) 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 aſſembly, I deliuer a meſſage of importance to ye; then taking the Helmet from her Squire, ſhe thus proceeded, 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 iudgment) it better belongeth to beare Armes then any other: and the cauſe why hee ſends it you, is, for that Galpan vilainouſly abuſed a Damoſell, that came to you on vrgent affaires. What; quoth the King, is Galpan ouercome by the hand of one man; beleeue me Damoſell you tell vs meruailes. Worthy Lord, anſwered ſhe, he onely of whom I ſpeake hath done him to death, after hee had ſlaine all the other that reſiſted him in Galpans Caſtell: and he thinking to reueng their foile himſelfe, combated hand to hand with the Knight, but ſuch was his bad ſucceſſe, as there with diſhonor hee loſt his head, which I would gladly haue brought to this Court, yet doubting the corrupt fauour thereof, and being otherwiſe aduiſed by him that ſent me to my Lord Agraies, as teſtimony of his victory this Helmet may ſuffiiſe. Vndoubtedly, ſaid the king to al there preſent, it it 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 exceeding importunity, for otherwiſe he would neuer haue told me. Say then good maiden, replied the King, to rid vs of all other doubtes. He nameth himſelfe, ſaid the Damoſell, the Gentleman of the ſea. When the King heard this, he was greatly abaſhed, and ſo were all the other likewiſe, afterward he thus ſpake. By my faith, I am aſſuredly perſwaded, that whoſoeuer Knighted him, neede not be aſhamed thereof, ſeeing ſo long time he requeſted it of me, and I deferred it for occaſions which I needed not to haue done, ſeeing Chiualry is in him already ſo well accompliſhed. Then Araies taking occaſion to ſpeake, demanded of the Damoſell, where he might meet with his gentle friend. My Lord, quoth ſhe, he humbly 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 thether. Good newes faire Damoſell, ſaid Agraies haue you brought me, now am I more deſirous to be gone then before I was: and if I may find him there, with my good will ſhall I neuer leaue his company. You haue reaſon ſo to do, anſwered the Damoſel, 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 thinke it was Oriana aboue all the reſt, yet was it handled ſo couertly, as the watchfulleſt eye could not deſcerne 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, that the Ladyes attending on the Queene, could tell better then anybody els, which with much a do he obtained of them. Then may the Gentle-man of the ſea, quoth he, vaunte, that he hath found more curtiſie in you then in me: but the cauſe why I prolonged the time of his honor, was that he ſeemed too yong for ſo great a charge. In this time Agraies courteouſly wellcomed the Damoſell who beſide the Helmet, deliuered him letters from a Lady that deerely loued him, of whome the Hiſtory hereafter maketh mention. But now for this preſent occaſion, the Reader muſt imagine, that Agraies (without longer tarying in Scotland) is departed with his Army, trauailing toward Gaule to his Vnckle King Perion.

CHAP. IX.

How King Liſuart ſent for his Daughter the Princeſſe Oriana, for that long before he had left her in the Court of King Languines: who ſent her accompanied with the Princeſſe Mabila his onely daughter, as alſo a noble traine of Knights, Ladyes and Gentlewomen.

ABout ten daies after Agraies was departed the King his Fathers court with his troup, three Ships of great Brittaine tooke port in Scotland: wherein as cheefe was Galdar of Raſcuit, accompanied with an hundred knights of king Liſuarts, as alſo many Ladyes and Gentlewomen that came for Oriana. Being arriued at the Court of king Languines, they were very graciouſly entertained, eſpecially Galdar, for he was eſteemed a wiſe and hardy knight. After he had giuen his Maieſty to vnderſtand his Ambaſſadge, which was harty thanks frō king Liſuart his Maiſter, for the gentle entreatance of the Princeſſe his daughter: he requeſted now to haue her home, & Mabila his daughter with her, to whom he would do all the honor could be deuiſed. Right thankfully did king Languines accept this offer, and was content that his daughter ſhould go with Oriana, thence-forward to be educated in the Court of King Liſuart. Certaine dayes ſoiourned Galdar and his traine in Scotland, during which time they were moſt honorably feaſted, and in this while the king prepared other Ships to accompany the voyage. When Oriana ſaw that matters fell out in this ſorte, ſhe knew well it was impoſſible longer to diſſemble or tarry: wherefore as ſhe placed all her little trifles in order, ſhe found among her Iewels the waxe, which ſhe had taken from the Gentleman of the ſea. This gaue her ſuch a remembrance of him, as the teares entred her eyes, and (through vehement loue) often wringed her hands, ſo that the waxe which ſhee held in them, ſuddenly brake, & ſhe eſpied the letter encloſed therein, which ſo ſoone as ſhe vnfolded, ſhe found there writtē theſe words. This is Amadis without time, Sonne to a King. At theſe newes ſhee conceiued ſuch ioy, as quickly ſhe left her former countenance, and not without cauſe, for ſhe was now aſſured, that he who before was eſteemed (at the moſt) but the ſon 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, therefore without longer deferring, ſhe called the Damoſell of Denmarke to her, on whom ſhe intirely truſted, & thus ſpake. My good friend, I will declare one thing to ye, which no other then mine owne hart and you ſhall know: therefore regarde it as the ſecret of ſuch a Princeſſe as I am, and of the beſt Knight in the world beſide. On my faith Madam, anſwered the Damoſell, ſeeing it pleaſeth you to honor me ſo much, more willingly ſhall I dye thē faile therein, & wel may you be aſſured, that what-ſoeuer you diſcloſe to mee, ſhalbe altogether kept ſecret, & executed to my power. Thē ſo it is deere friend, ſaid Oriana, that you muſt needs go ſeek the Gentle-man of the ſea, whom you ſhall find at the warres in Gaule, and if you chance 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 find his name therein, w •• ttē on the day that he was caſt into the ſea, whereby I know him to be the ſon of a king, which ought inſpite him with higher courage & hardines, to encreaſe the ſame hee hath already ſo well begun. You ſhall likewiſe tel him, how the king my father ſent for me, and therefore I am gone toward great Brittaine: which I was deſirous to acquaint him withall, and when hee returneth from the warre where he is, he ſhould immediatly come to the place of my aboad, limitting al things in ſuch ſorte, as he may liue in my fathers Court, vntill he receiue other commandemēt of me. Such was the ſpeedy diſpatch of the Damoſell, as without longer ſtay ſhe iourned toward Gaule, and executed her enterpriſe, whereof heereafter you ſhall vnderſtand more. But not to diſcontinue the purpoſed voyage of Oriana, after that Languines had prouided all things necſſary for the ſame, Oriana, Mabila & their company were imbarqued: thē taking leaue of the King & Queene at the ſea ſide, they ſet faile hauing the winde ſo proſperous, as in few daies they landed in great Brittaine, where they were all right worthyly wellcommed.

Heere of doth 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 Knights Caſtell that was vanquiſhed by Galpan, in the Damoſels charge who attended his wounds, which in fifteene daies were almoſt thorowly healed. Notwithſtanding, deſpiſing reſt, determined to ſet on his way, ſo that on a Sunday morning, taking leaue of his hoſte and his gentle Chirurgion: he mounted on Horſe-backe, accompanied onely with Gandalin who neuer would forſake him, and not farre from the Caſtle they entred a great Forreſt. It was now about the moneth of Aprill, when the Birdes tune their Notes moſt pleaſantly, and that all Trees, Herbes, and Flowers declare the comming of the Spring time: this delightſome change made him remember her, who aboue all other flowred in excellent beautie, and for whom (abandoning his libertie) Loue hath taken him captiue, ſo that in theſe thoghts, he thus (ſomewhat loud) parled with himſelfe.

Ah poore Gentleman of the Sea, without Parents or Lands, that thou canſt auouch, how durſt thou lift thy heart ſo high, as to loue her who is beyond all other in beautie, bounty, and birth? Ah wretch as thou art, oughteſt thou not to conſider by theſe three things, wherein ſhe is moſt perfect: the beſt Kinght in the world may not be ſo hardy as to thinke of louing her? And thou poore vnknowne, art wrapt in a labirinth of folly, louing and dying, not daring to tell it, or make ſhew thereof. In this complaint was the Gentleman of the Sea ſo carryed away, as forgetting all other matters, hee rode croſſe the forreſt a long ſpace, with his Helmet cloſed: till at length lifting vp his head, hee behelde a Knight well mounted, in the wood by him, who long had kept company to heare his ſadde diſcourſe. When the knight ſawe the Prince had diſcryed him & for that cauſe held his peace, he approched neerer him with theſe words. Beleeue me knight, it ſeems you more loue your Friend then ſhee doth 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, therefore it is neceſſarie I ſhould know who ſhee is, to the end I may ſupply 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 then you doe: and I can aſſure yee, that by louing her you can get no aduantage. So doe not I beleeue, ſayd the knight, for a man ought to conceiue glory in trauaile, or any danger in the ſeruice of ſo faire a Ladie, ſeeing that in the end, he cannot but gaine his long looked for recompence: wherefore hee that loueth in ſo high a place as you doe, ſhould not be agreeued at any thing that happeneth. When the Prince heard him ſpeake ſo ſenſibly, imagining hee vſed theſe wordes to comfort him, he was of better cheere, and came more neere to him to continue this talk, but the Knight ſayd. Keepe yee backe, for either by friend-ſhip or force, you muſt tell mee what I haue demaunded. Now truſt me, anſwered the Prince, it ſhall not be ſo. Goe too then, quoth the knight, ſee what wil happen thereon and defend your ſelfe. With right good will ſayde the Prince. So gan they lace their Helmets, taking likewiſe their Shieldes and Lances: but as they ſeuered them-ſelues for the Iouſt, a Damoſell came and ſpake in this manner.

Knights, I pray you forbeare a while, and tell mee one thing before the combate if you can: for ſuch is my haſte, as I haue no leaſure to tarry the end of your fight. At theſe words they ſtayed them-ſelues, demanding of her what ſhe deſired. I would faine, quoth ſhee, heare ſome news of a Knight, called the Gentleman of the Sea. And what would you with him? ſaid the Prince. I haue brought him tydings, anſwered the Damoſell, from Agraies Sonne to the King of Scotland. Attend a little, replyed the Prince, and I will tell ye ſo much as I know of him. All this time was the Knight of the Forreſt ready for the Iouſt, and much offended at her that came to ſtay them, wherefore hee called to the Prince to gaurd him-ſelfe, giuing him ſuch an attaint in the encounter, as his Launce flew in pieces: but the Prince met him full, as both Horſe and Man were thrown to the ground, when the Horſe (being more nimble then his Maiſter) ſeeing him ſelfe at libertie, ran about the field, yet the Prince found the meanes to take him againe, and bringing him to the diſmounted knight, ſayd, Heere Sir, take your Horſe, and hence-forth deſire not to know any thing againſt a mans will. The knight would not refuſe his gentleneſſe, for he found him-ſelfe ſo ſhaken with his fall, as hee could hardly follow to catch him again & in meane while he aſſayed to remount on his Horſe, the Prince left him, comming to the Damoſell that ſtayed for him, demaunding if ſhe knew the man ſhe enquired after. No truely, quoth ſhe, I did neuer ſee him: but Agraies told me, that he would preſently make himſelfe knowne, ſo ſoone as I ſhould ſay that I came from him. He did not deceiue you therein anſwered the Prince, therfore ye muſt vnderſtand I my ſelfe am the man: and with theſe words he vnlaced his Helmet, when the Damoſell ſaw his face, ſhe ſaid. In truth now doe I verily beleeue it, for your beauty I haue heard very much commended. Then tell me, quoth the Prince, where haue you left Agraies? Hard by a Riuer not farre hence, ſayd ſhe, where he ſtaieth with his Troupe, attending a fit winde for Paſſage into Gaule: and is very deſirous (before he go any further) to know if you will beare him companie. With all my heart, replyed the Prince, ride then before and conduct mee the way. So rode he on with the Damoſell, and in ſome ſhort time after, they came neer the place where Agraies and his Armie were encamped: but yet before they arriued there, they heard behinde them one cry: Stay knight, for thou muſt tell me what I demanded. The Prince turning backe, behold the knight whō he ſo lately diſmounted, and another that bare him company, wherfore hee ſtayed to take his Armes. Now were they ſo neere the Prince Agraies Campe, and he as they all might ſee the Tourney, hauing a farre off noted the Princes comming, maruailing what he was that ſo gallantly managed his Horſe: and to ſay ſooth, hee was (in his time) a Knight of the comlyeſt grace that euer was ſeen, & where he ſtroue to hide himſelfe, he was ſooneſt diſcouered, by reaſon of his brauery in horſeman-ſhip. The two Knights ran together in full courſe againſt him, breaking their Lances in pieces on his ſhield: but the Prince meeting him that had the foile in the forreſt, threw him again frō his ſaddle ſo roughly, as in the fall he brake his arme, the grief whereof made him lie ſtill as if he had bin dead. When he perceiued he was ſo well rid of one, hee drew his ſword: & came to the other, giuing him ſuch a ſtroke on his Helmet, as the Sword entring in, hee puld it backe with ſuch force, that the laces brake, wherby he broght it quite frō his head vpō his ſword: then he lifted vp his arme to haue ſmitten him, but the knight quickly clapt his Shield before. In mean while the Prince got his ſword into his left hand (which hee could doe very hardly) and with his right hand tooke holde on his enemies ſhield, renting it violently from about his necke, and afterward gaue him ſuch a blow on the head, as in great amazement hee fell to the ground. Thus did hee leaue him there with his companion, and rod with the Damoſell to the Tents of Agraies: who hauing ſeen the concluſion of this quarrell, meruailing what he was that had ſo ſoone ouer-come two knights, therefore when he came towardes him, hee went foorth to meete him, and ſo ſoone as they knew each other, you need not make no doubt of their kinde ſalutations. Soone after the Prince alighted, and by Agraies was conducted into his Tent to be vnarmed, but firſt hee gaue commandement, that the knights diſmounted in the fielde ſhould bee brought thither, where they were no ſooner ariued, but Agrais thus ſpake to them. Beleeue mee, my friends, you attempted great folly to meddle with this Knight. You ſay true my Lord, anſwered hee whoſe arme was broken, yet once to day I ſaw him in ſuch plight, as I little thought of any ſuch reſiſtance. Afterward he declared all that happened in the Forreſt, and the communication they had together: yet he omitted the Princes complaints becauſe hee ſtood in feare to diſpleaſe him. During the repitition of theſe matters, the patience of the one and boldneſſe of the other, was entercourſed among them, and all that day they ſoiourned there, but on the morrow Morning they mounted on horſe-backe, ſhaping their courſe to Palingues, a right good City on the frontires, and the outmoſt part of Scotland, where they found ſhipping, and embarqued them-ſelues toward Gaule. The winde ſeruing according to their deſire, in fewe dayes they landed in the Hauen of Galfrin, and marching thence in ſeemely order, without any hinderance, they came to the Caſtle 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 thereby, and their welcome to bee good and gracious: chiefly by the Queene Eliſena, who hauing knowledge of their arriuall, ſent to entreat her Nephew Agraies to come viſite her: which he did, being accompanied with the King, and the Gentleman of the Sea, and two other knights of good account. But you muſt note, that king Periō knew not the prince at the firſt ſight, yet at the length hé called him to remēbrance, that it was the ſame man whom he had knighted, and afterward ſaued his life at the Caſtle, wherefore thus he ſpake. My deare friend, on my faith I had forgotten ye, you are moſt welcome to this place, for your preſence giueth aſſurance, that I neede feare this warre no further, hauing the onely Knight of the world ſo neere mee. 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 Queenes 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 defēded me from the greateſt danger that euer I was in: and therefore I pray ye let no ſpare of curtiſie be made to him here, but giue him the beſt entertainment the time will affoord. The Queene aduanced her ſelfe to embrace him, but he fell on his knee with theſe wordes. I am ſeruant (Madame) to the Queen your ſiſter, and frō 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 mouing of nature) ſhe wiſhed more good to him thē any in the troupe. At this time likewiſe was her remembrance ſolicited, with the former loſſe of her two Childrē, whoſe yeeres ſhe thought would haue equaled the Princes, if God had preſerued them, & theſe occaſions vrged the teares in her eyes. Thus wept ſhe for him that nature touched her withall, and yet vnknowen was in her preſence, but when the Prince beheld her ſo ſorrowfull, he reputed it to the reaſon of the warre begun, wherefore hee ſaid. Madame, I hope with the aide of God, your King, and the freſh ſupply we haue brought: in ſhorte time to recouer your ioy, and for mine owne part, truſt me I will make no ſpare. Heauen proſper ye, anſwered the Queene, with happy ſucceſſe, & for you are the Queene my ſiſters Knight, I wil that ye prouide no other lodging, but abide here with vs, and all things ſhall be appointed for yee to your owne contentment. Such was their conference together, vntill Agraies would goe refreſh himſelfe, wherfore taking leaue for that night, he went to his lodging where it was prouided: and gladly would the Prince haue followed him, but the Queene with-held him by ſuch importunity, as he was cōſtained now to remaine in his vnknowne mothers cuſtody. Right ſoone was the news of this freſh ſuccour, brought to K. Abies of Ireland & Daganel his Cozin, who made very ſmall account thereof, becauſe (in thoſe times) was King Abies accounted for one of the beſt Knights that euer was heard of, and in reſpect of his hot deſire to the fight, determined (ſeeing new aide was come to his enimy) 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 cō panion as to come ſee vs, I had rather he would do it to day then to morrow. Aſſure your ſelfe, anſwered Daganel, he is nothing ſo haſty as I thinke: for hee feareth you to much, albeit he maketh little ſhew thereof. Know you, ſaid Galin Duke of Normandy, by what means we may thereto conſtraine him? Firſt let vs make an ambuſh of the greater part of our Army, which ſhall remaine with the King in this Forreſt of Baldain, then you Lord Daganel and my ſelfe will go with the reſt, to preſent our ſelues at breake of day before the Cittie: & I am certaine that being deſcried by our enemies, who imagining our ſtrength is altogether, wil take hart, and not faile to come running forth vpon vs. When we ſee them approch, we will diſſemble a timerous feare, and take our flight toward the Forreſt, where ſhall abide the King with his company: then our enemies purſuing aſſured victory in their own conceit, wil ſecke aduantage by our ſhamefull retire, & ſo be takē thēſeues in the ſnare. Very well haue you aduiſed, anſwered King Abies, do you your ſelfe worthy Duke giue order, that all things bee done as you haue appointed. Now might ye there behold armed men on Horſe-backe, the Souldiers muſtring, the drums thundering, and the Trumpets cheerefully ſounding, as in one inſtant, matters were ſo well ordered, that the Kings Commandement failed in nothing: whereupon the next morning at the breake of day, Daganel and the Duke of Normandie, 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 honoured the Prince by whō he had found ſuch friend-ſhip. And to make ſome ſhew of his affection towardes him, in the morning he came with his Queene to the Princes Chamber, where they foūd him waſhing his hands, and perceiuing his eyes red, ſwollen & blubbered with teares, they eaſily gathered hee had taken no good reſt that night: and very true it was, for continually hee thought of her, whoſe loue had depriued him of libertie, and likewiſe compared withall the ſlender means he had to attaine ſo high, which made him enter into ſuch profound griefe, as he expected no other remedie but death. The Queene deſirous to know the cauſe of his ſadneſſe, tooke Gandalin aſide, thus ſpeaking to him. My friend, your Maiſters countenance berayweth ſome inward diſpleaſure, hath any one heere offended him in ought? No Madame, anſwered Gandalin, he hath by your Maieſtie receiued great honor: but he is wont to bee tormented in ſleepe as you ſee. During theſe diſcourſes, the Sentinell came to aduertiſe the King, how he had diſcoured the ambuſh and the enemies were very neere the Citie, where preſently he commanded to doraine the Armie. Now was each one ready to horſe-backe, eſpecially the King and the Prince, who went directly to the Citie gate, where they found Agraies chiding, becauſe they would not let him goe forth, thinking he ſhould tarrie too long from the fight: for he was one of the hardieſt Knights, and the beſt to giue aſſiſtance in neede that could bee found, ſo that if good aduiſe had beene as ready with him, as he was poſſeſſed of vnconquerable courage, his like might not haue beene found in the world. At the Kings comming the gates were ſuddenly opened, and then went foorth the men of Gaule in order, who ſeeing their enemies to be ſo great a number, albeit the whole Armie was minded to goe no further, reputing it ouer-much boldneſſe to aſſaile ſuch an vneaquall ſtrength, and therefore aroſe among them a murmuring conteſtation. Which Agraies perceiuing, without further trifling gaue the ſpurres to his horſe, crying aloud, Beſhrow him that tarrieth any longer: ſeeing them hee 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, ran among them, and were immediatly mingled together. He whom the Prince firſt met withall, was the Duke of Normandie, whō he charged ſo couragiouſly, as breaking his Launce on him, ouer-threw both man and horſe to the earth, and with this rough fall, his legge was broken. So paſſed on the Prince ſetting hand to Sword, as a chafed Lyon entred the preaſſe, ſhewing ſuch deeds of Armes, as none durſt with-ſtand him: for he ouer-threw all that encountred him, killing ſome outright, chining and diſmembring others, ſo that euery one was glad to giue him way. When Daganel ſaw 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 beate him downe: which they had done, but that Agraies Perceiuing it, came with his troupe to reſcue him. At their arriual you might behold Launces broken, Knights tumbling downe, helmets rent, and ſhields ſcatred on the ground making a great conflict & diſorder amongſt the Iriſh-men, for King Perion likewiſe came freſh vpon them with his band. Daganel (on the cō trary ſide) did the beſt he could to retire backe, but the Gentleman of the Sea was among the thickeſt, ſhewing ſuch chiualry, 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 benummed, for the more to hearten and cheere vp his men, he cryed aloude to them: follow my friends, follow the beſt Knight that euer bare Armes. When Daganel ſaw his ſide to haue the worſt, & what great damage he receiued by the Prince, he determined to kill his horſe, 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 remained Daganel vnarmed. Which when King Perion eſpied he reached him ſuch a ſalutation with his Sword, as cleft his head through the very braines: whereupon his men ſeeing him ſlaine, they that had the beſt horſes fled away for life; and ſtayed not till they ſaued them-ſelues where King Abies was ambuſhed. But King Perion ſtill purſuing victory, diſcouered the rereguard (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 eſcape vs, but let vs enter pellmell in the field. When the Gaules found themſelues thus ſurpized, neuer were people more aſtoniſhed, for they imagined the ambuſh had not beene ſo great: and which moſt of all affrighted them, was, that they muſt now deale with freſh and luſtie men, them-ſelues being ſore wearyed, & their horſes ſo ouerlaboured, as they could hardly indure their burden. Beſide, they knew king Abias was there in perſō, being (as you heard before) accounted one of the beſt knights in the world: and for this cauſe the moſt part of the Gaules began to tremble. But the Gentle-man of the Sea foreſeeing the diſorder was like to enſue, came & perſwaded them rather to die then looſe one iot of their honour and reputation, ſaying: My friends and companions, be of good cheere, each one make knowne his vertue, and remember the eſteeme the Gaules haue gotten by Armes. We are to deale with the people aſtonnied & halfe ouercome, let vs not make change with them, taking their feare, and deliuering our victorie: for if they but onely behold your reſolute countenances, I am certaine they are not able to endure yee, let vs then enter among them, for God is our defender. At theſe words the moſt diſheartened tooke courage, concluding to ſtay and fight manly with their enemies, who ſoone after in great furie ſet vpon them. Now did King Abies make knowne his magnanimitie, and hardly could Prince Agraies men endure the aſſault, nor the Squadron that King Perion brought: for King Abies maimed ſome, other he ouerthrew, & while his Launce held, he diſmounted euery knight that met with him. Afterward he layd hand to Sword, wherewith hee carried 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 retyre ſo faſt as they could toward the Citie. Whē the Gentleman of the Sea, ſaw that Fortune was ſo contrary to them, in great ſpight he entered the throng, and fought ſo fiercely, as the moſt part of the Iriſh-men were glad to ſtay, while the Gaules without diſorder retyred toward the Caſtle, then turning his horſe, he followed them. To defend this brunt there was alſo king Perion, and the Prince Agraies, who deliuered teſtimonie to their enemies (by the keen edge of their Swords) how well they knew to gouerne themſelues in ſuch extremities: notwithſtanding, the Iriſh-men ſeeing they had the better, ſtil 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 more and more preſſed by their enemies, as doubtleſſe the Iriſh had entred the Citie after them, but that they were hindred by king Perion, Agraies, and the Prince, who wholly did repulſe the throng, till their people by them were gotten in. But now was tydings brought to king Abies, that his couſin Dagenel, and Gallin Duke of Normandie were ſlaine, whereat he waxed very diſpleaſant: and ſeeing King Perion with his people were incloſed in the Citie, 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 & downe, one of his knights ſhewed him the Prince, ſaying: My Lord, hee whom you ſee mounted on the white Horſe, is the man that ſlewe Prince Daganel and the Duke of Normandie, with many other, the beſt in our Armie. When King Abies heard that, he rode to the Prince with theſe words: Knight, thou haſt ſlaine the man whom moſt I loued in the world: but if thou wilt combate, I hope to be reuenged ſo well, as I ſhall haue cauſe to be quit with thee. Your men (anſwered the Prince) are two little trauailed to meddle with ours, notwithſtanding if thou wilt as (a Knight) reuenge him thou louedſt, and declare the great hardineſſe for which thou art renowned: chuſe of thy men ſuch as thou ſhalt like, and I (if it pleaſe the King) will doe 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.

Beleeue me, quoth the King, thou talkeſt well, go to, chuſe thou thy ſelfe the number of men, how many or few thou thinkeſt good. Seeing you leaue it in my choyſe, replied the Prince, I will make another offer, which (it may be) you will account more cōuenient. 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 you and me onely, and preſently (if you will) without longer dallying, yet ſhall you aſſure me from your men, as I will do you from mine, ſo that 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 parte to garde the field. And as the Prince laboured to gaine the like of the King, with his conſent, hee found King Perion and Agraies ſomewhat loath to grant the Combate: as well for the conſequence that might enſue, as alſo becauſe the Prince was much wearyed and ſore wounded beſide, wherefore they entreated him to déferre 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 hee might returne vnder her obeyſance, from whom he came to ſerue king Perion: would not ſuffer him to make any longer delay, of the glory and honor which he ſaw ſo neere at hand. For this cauſe he vſed ſo many perſwaſions to the king, as in the end hee was granted the Combate, and on his ſide likewiſe were tenne knights appointed, for his guard and ſafetie in the field.

CHAP. X.

How the Gentleman of the ſea fought a Combate with King Abies, on difference of the warre he made in Gaule.

YOu haue heard in what maner the combat was accorded betweene King Abies & the Gentleman of the ſea, and now already is the greateſt part of the day ſpent: wherefore it was agreed by the Lords on either ſide, (very much againſt the wils of the two Combatants) that all ſhould be deferred till the morrow morning: as well that they might refreſh themſelues, and repaire their battered armour, as alſo for regarding ſuch wounds, as they had receiued in the paſſed encounters. Hereupon the two Kings withdrew themſelues, the one to his Campe, and the other to his caſtle. But ſuch is the bruite ſpred through the Cittie, what worthy 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 thee grace to proceed as thou haſt begun: impoſſible is it to find a Gentleman, ſo accompliſhed with beauty and Chiualrie as he is, for our eyes are iudges of the one, and our enemies full well haue felt the other. But you muſt note, that in the morning when they went to the field, the King had giuen the Queene in charge, that ſo ſoone as the Prince returned frō the warre, ſhe ſhould ſend one of her Ladyes to him, requeſting him not to be vnarmed in any other place then in her chā ber: wherefore as he went neere the Kings lodging, the Lady came vnto him, ſaying. Sir Knight, the Queene deſires you not to be elſwhere vnarmed, but in her Chamber, where ſhe ſtayeth your comming. In ſooth, ſaid the King, you muſt needes grant this requeſt, and I deſire it may be ſo. The Prince condiſending, went where the Queene ſtaied with her Ladies, and no ſooner was he entred, but preſently the Ladyes holpe to vn-arme him: yet the Queene her ſelfe tooke the greateſt paine of all, and as ſhee had off his coate of Mayle, ſhee perceiued he was ſore wounded, which ſhe ſhewing to the King, he ſaid. I maruaile Gentle-man, ſeeing you are ſo hurt, that you tooke no longer time for your cōbat. It had bin needleſſe, anſwered the Prince, for I haue no wound (I thanke God) that can keepe me from the Combate. Right ſoone were the Chirurgions commanded to looke thereon, and they found it greater in ſhew then danger. In the meane while ſupper was prepared, during which time, they had much talke of the accidents that day paſt: vntill the houre of reſt came, when each one departed till the next morning. Which being come, after they had ſerued God, the king ſent a rich & goodly Armour to the Prince, of better proofe and ſtrength then that hee had on the day before: wherewith he armed himſelfe, and hauing taken leaue of euery one, mounted on Horſe backe in company of the King, who bare his Helmet, the Prince Agraics his Sheeld (wherein was portrayed two azured Lions in a golden field, rampant the one againſt the other, as if they both intēded murder,) & another Prince carried his Launce. In this equipage he ſet forward to the field, where the King of Ireland attended his comming, well armed, and mounted on a goodly blacke 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 Shield, 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 them-ſelues to God: they gaue the ſpurres to their horſes, meeting together ſo furiouſly, both with Launce, body and horſe, as their ſtaues flew in ſhiuers, yet piercing their Armour, and both were laid along in the field. But heat of hart and deſire of conqueſt, made them recouer footing quickly, and plucking forth 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 ſee them endure ſo much. For this fight was not equally matched, in reſpect the Prince was but yong, well proportioned, and of a reaſonable height: but King Abies was ſo great, as he neuer found any knight that exceeded him a handfull euery way, being (withall) ſo ſtrongly made, that he was rather to be accounted a Giant thē a man, yet was he highly loued & reuerenced of his ſubiects, for the vertue and proweſſe which remained in him, albeit he was too much audatious and proud.

Now were theſe Champions ſo animated againſt each other, as well for honor as the conſequence of the Combate, that without any ſtay for breathing they layde on ſuch load, as their ſtrokes reſounded the fight of twentie men together. And well they witneſſed no great good will betweene them, for there might ye ſee the earth tainted with their blood, the pieces of their Shields, the plate of their Armour ſcattered abroad, 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 guſh out abundantly, yet were they of ſuch inuincible courage, as they ſeemed to feele none of this annoyance. Hereupon they maintained ſuch brauery the one againſt the other, as it could not be iudged who had the better or worſe: notwithſtanding, about the houre of three, the Sunne gaue an exceeding warme and violent heate, whereby they found themſelues ſo chafed in their Armour, as they began to wake ſomewhat feeble: eſpecially King Abies, inſomuch as hee was conſtrained to retire backe, thus ſpeaking to the Prince.

I ſee thee very neere failing, 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 thee (although I haue no cauſe or deſire to fauour thee) that I hold better opinion of thee, then any knight that euer I combated withal: moreouer it diſpleaſeth me that I had an occaſion to ſee thee, & much more that I am ſo long in conquering thee, whereby I might take vengeance for his death whom moſt I loued in the world, and as thou didſt ſlay him in open battaile, ſo likewiſe will I ouercome thee in ſight of both our Campes. King Abies replyed the Pince, I now perceiue it diſpleaſeth thee that thou canſt doe no more harme, entering ſo like a Tyrant as thou didſt to ruinate this Countrey. And as it often happeneth, that he which delighteth in euill, can neuer broke any other ſaour: ſo hope I to reward thee ſo well 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 them who haue taſted thy crueltie: therefore ſticke cloſe to thy tackling, and defend thy ſelfe againſt the Knight, whom thou reputeſt fayling. The King then taking his Sword, and what was left of his Shield, thus anſwered. Well mayſt thou curſſe the boldneſſe that made thee enter theſe Lyſtes, for hence thou ſhalt not eſcape without loſſe of thy head. Doe what thou canſt ſaid the Prince, for thou ſhalt reſt no more, till thou or thine honour be dead. Herewith more cruelly thē before they began againe their Combat, as if they had euen then entred the field, & 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 hee was cloſely followed at an inche, as he loſt altother the reſt of his Shield, by which means 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 loſe his ſtrength, and being in this agony, ſtaggering from one ſide to another, hee 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 victory, and taking his ſword in both hands, he ran with all his might againſt the Prince, and pierced it ſo farre into his Shield, as he was not able to pul it forth 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 foote vppon him, tearing violently his Helmet from his head, ſaying. Thou art dead King Abies, if thou doeſt not yeeld thy lelfe vāquiſhed. Beleeue me I am dead, anſwered th • King, not vanquiſhed alone, but of both the one and other, my ouer-weening hath beene the onely cauſe. Notwithſtanding, ſince it is ſo come to paſſe, I pray thee let aſſurance be giuen to my Souldiours, that without iniury they may carry me into my Country, and dying like a Chriſtian, I may pay my debt both to God & men. Faine would I haue councel for my ouer burdened Soule, then afterward ſhall I render to King Perion what I vſurped from him. And as for thee who haſt vanquiſhed me, I deſpiſe not to dye by the valiance of ſo gentle a Knight as thou art: but withall my hart pardon thee my death, wiſhing thou mayeſt continue honorable, and yet hereafter to remember me. When the Prince ſaw him in ſuch debilitie, he was exceeding ſorowfull for his death, although he knew aſſuredly, that if he had woon the glory of the combate, he would haue dealt much worſe with him. During theſe ſpeeches, the Knights appointed on each ſide came to them, wherefore King Abies commanded 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 gifor their affaires. Theſe matters thus ended, King Perion, Agraies, and all the Lords of Gaule came to the Prince, accompanying him with great ioy from the fielde into the Citie, euen with ſuch triumphant glory as to Conquerours is accuſtomed: who by their proweſſe not onely ouercome their enemies, but reſtore the Country that is well neere ruinated.

Now muſt ye vnderſtand, that a little before the beginning of the Combate, the Damoſell of Denmarke who came from faire Oriana to the Prince, was arriued at king Perions Courte: and before ſhee would make her ſelfe knowne, ſhe deſired to behold the iſſue of the fight. Afterward, ſeeing him returne with ſo honorable a victory, ſhe ſhewed her ſelfe, and taking him aſide, ſaid. Knight, may it pleaſe you to heare a word in ſecret, of ſuch matter as doth verie neere concerne ye? Euen what you will, anſwered the Prince: with which words he tooke her by the hand, and keeping her from the throng, ſhe thus ſpake. The Princeſſe Oriana who is onely yours, hath ſent me to you, and this Letter withall, wherein you ſhall finde your name written. When he heard her named, by the remembrance of whom only he liued, he was ſo perplexed, that without vnderſtanding what elſe the Damoſel ſaid: hauing taken the Letter, he let it fall, being readie himſelfe to beare it companie, which the Damoſell ſeeing, ſhee tooke vp the Letter and came to him againe. Euery one that beheld 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 comes from the onely Lady in the world, and who aboue all other loueth you? for whoſe ſake likewiſe I haue taken ſo great paine to find you? Ah Ladie (quoth he) on my faith I knew not what you ſayd to me, for euen as you began to ſpeak, I felt the paine to renewe in mee, which heretofore you haue ſeene me endure. It is true (ſaid the Damoſell) but now it is needleſſe for ye to conceale your ſelfe any longer from me, for I know more of your affayres and my Ladies, then you imagine, becauſe her ſelfe hath bewrayed them to me. And if you beare her affection, you neede 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 Brittaine, appointing all things in ſuch order, as at your arriual you may remaine there in the Court, vntill more amply you vnderſtand her mind, Beſide, ſhe gaue me charge to tell ye, how ſhe certainly knowes you are Sonne to a King, wherewith ſhe is no leſſe pleaſed then ſhee thinkes 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 increaſe your Fame if you can. And then againe ſhee gaue him the Letter, ſaying. Take here the Letter wherein your Name is written, and which you had hanging about your necke, 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 beene kept by her, who hath my heart in her cuſtodie, and for whom I haue ſo often aſſayed to die, yet cannot. For thinking on her perfection, I ſeeke to augment it by ſtrength and commendation, but of ſo ſlender value is my puiſſance found: that ſtriuing thereby to gaine her fauor, the leaſt paine I feele ſurpaſſeth a thouſand deaths: which (neuertheleſſe) are now recompenced by this preſent benefite. O higheſt God, when ſhall I ſee the time, wherein I may giue her to vnderſtand, how great my deuotion is to obey her by ſome agreeable 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, when I had done my Meſſage, to returne with all ſpeed to her that ſent me to you; therefore be thinke your ſelfe if you will command me any thing. You ſhall not depart (ſo pleaſe you) in ſuch haſte, anſwered the Prince, but ſtay with mee two or three dayes: during which time, for what occaſion ſo euer it be, you ſhall not forſake me, and then will I conduct you whither you pleaſe. In obeying-you (ſayd the Damoſell, I truſt I doe ſeruice to my Ladie Oriana. Their talke thus breaking off, he returued to the King and Agraies, who ſtayed for him him at the entrance of the Citie, where the people were wonderfully aſſembled in the ſtreetes. Then came the Queene with her Ladyes & Gentle-women to vnarme him, and the Chirurgions to viſite his wounds, which when they had regarded, albeit they were many and yrkeſom to behold, yet were they to bee healed without any great daunger of his perſon. For this night the king deſired, that he and Agraies, would ſupp with him, but the Prince making his excuſe by his wounds, went to his Chamber, willing to haue no other company then the Damoſel: to whom he did all the honour that 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 ſhee brought him, no wound could hinder him from viſiting the great Hall, there walking and conferring with euety one: but moſt with her whom he cauſed to ſtay, attending his diſpoſitiō till he might beare Armes. And betweene them happened a ſtrange occaſion, which was cauſe of his longer abode in Gaule, then hee expected: ſo that the Damoſell returned to Oriana without him, as you hereafter ſhall vnderſtand.

CHAP. XI.

How the Gentleman of the Sea was knowne by King Perion, his Father, and by the Queene Eliſena his Mother.

IN the beginning of this Hiſtorie, it hath beene recited, how King Perion gaue his Queene Eliſena, being then in little Brittaine, a Ring like another that commonly hee wore, and theſe two Rings were of ſuch an vniforme, as there was no difference to bee diſcerned betweene them. Likewiſe ye haue vnderſtood how when the yong Prince was put vpon the water, this Ring was faſtened about his necke, which Gandales kept, till time he ſent it by the Damoſell (a little before he was knighted) with the Sword and the waxe. Now had the King ſundry times demaunded of the Queene for the Ring, who made him diuers doubtfull anſwers, and in the end ſayd ſhe had loſt it. But it came to paſſe, that as the Prince walked with Orianaes Damoſell, which commonly he was wont to do, yong Melicia daughter to king Perion, paſſed by him weeping, when the Prince ſtaied her; ſaying. Faire friend, why weepe ye? Ah my Lord, quoth the Princeſſe, I haue euen now loſt a Ring, which the King my Father gaue me to keepe while he ſlept. Weepe not ſo faire Virgin, anſwered the Prince, you ſhall haue another of me to giue him: So taking his owne Ring from his finger, he gaue it her. When ſhe beheld it, (thinking it was the ſame ſhe had loſt) ſhe ſaid. Ah my Lord, haue you found it, wherewith I am not a little glad, for I haue all this while ſought it. What nowe? quoth the Prince, this is not your Ring. In mine opinion it is, anſwered Melicia, or the onely 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. Herewith went Melicia to the Kings Chamber, and finding him awake, he asked her for his Ring, then gaue ſhe him the ſame ſhe had of the Prince, which the King put on his finger, thinking it was his owne. But ſoone after as he walked through the Gallary, he eſpied in a corner lying the other Ring, which he gaue his daughter before to keepe, and taking it vp, he compared them together: where-upon he remembred, that one of theſe two was the ſame he ſometime gaue the Queene, ſo he asked of Melicia where ſhe had the Ring. The yong Princeſſe affraid of beating, durſt not lye, but thus anſwered. My Lord and Father, your Ring I loſt, and as I ſearched for it, I met with the Gentleman of the ſea: who becauſe he ſaw me weepe, gaue me one of his, which I deliuered you in ſtead of your owne, and if that be not it, I know not where it is. When the King heard this, he preſently conceiued ſuſpition betweene his Queene and the Prince, imagining in reſpect of his beauty, how ſhe was fallen into ſome diſhoneſt liking of him. and therefore had giuen that token. Hereupon 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 forth a paſſionate ſigh, he ſaid. I will not maruaile any longer Madame, why you would neuer make me any certaine anſwer, when I demanded for the Ring Igaue ye in little Britaine: you haue loſt it in ſuch a place, where you would be loath I ſhould know of it, but hardly can you conceale affection, when it proceedeth to ſuch effects. The Gentleman of the ſea inconſideratly 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 Queene (who already by his countenance ſaw 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 her child-birth. And (not without teares) ſhe recounted to him, how ſtanding in feare of the king her father, as alſo the ſeuere law vſed in his Kingdome, ſhe was conſtrained to commit her ſonne to the mercy of the ſea, and in his cradle coffin put with him, both the Ring, ſword, & what elſe hath bene already declared. Confounded was the king with maruaile when he heard the whole truth, and preſently imagined the Prince might bee his firſt ſonne, whom God had ſo miraculouſly preſerued, wherefore he ſaid to the Queene. 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 Queen, may it fall out ſo haply? I beſeech ye my Lord, ſend preſently for him, and we will deſire him to tell vs of whence he is. Let vs go then, quoth the King, to ſeeke him.

So went they to his Chamber, where they found him ſleeping, wherefore (without making any noyſe) he approched nere 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 Qeuene. 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, ſaid the Queene, let vs ſuffer him ſleepe no longer, for my hart cannot endure this weighty burden: herewith ſhe tooke him by the hand and awaked him, ſaying. My Lord, ſleepe no more at this time, for other accaſions calleth you. Eaſily was the Prince raiſed from ſleepe, but whē he beheld the Queene weeping, as one amazed thereat, he ſaid. Madame, from what occaſion proceede theſe teares? is there any thing I may do ye ſeruice in, to remedy them? Noble friend, quoth the Queene, you onely may quallifie my griefe by your words, in telling me whoſe ſonneyou are. So God helpe 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 onely ſpeech, but vitall ſence was taken from her, and ſhe fell downe in a ſwoune: which the Prince perceiuing, quickly ranne to recouer her, ſaying. What aile ye Madame? further could he not imagine on the cauſe of this alteration. Ah my ſonne, quoth ſhe, now know I better then thy ſelfe who thou art. The King likewiſe was ſo caried 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 in ſafetie, hauing beene ſo long depriued of thyſight and knowledge: highly am I beholding to the deuine bounty, who hath fauoured the offence I committed through feare, which was, in deliuering thee to the courtiſie of the waters, and ſee heere thy Kingly father that begot thee. With theſe words the Prince fell at their feete, extreame ioy reducing the teares into his eyes, and altogether 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 meete with his Parents, being all this while vnknowne to them. As thus they deuiſed on the fortunes paſſed, the Queene demanded of him if hee had no other name, thē that which now he called himſelfe by? Yes Madame, quoth he, but it is not fully three daies paſt ſince I knew there-of, for as I came from the Combat againſt King Abies, a Damoſell brought me a Letter which I haue, and (as ſhe ſaith) was faſtened about my neck, being wrapped in waxe, when I was found in the ſea, wherein I finde that my name is Amadis: and herewithall he ſhewed the letter to the Queene, which ſhe full well knew ſo ſoone as ſhe ſaw it. Beleeue me, ſaid 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 de Gaule. It was not long before the bruite hereof was ſpread through the city, that the good & famous knight was ſonne to King Perion and the Queen Eliſena: wherefore if euery one reioyced (you muſt thinke) the Prince Agrates was not ſorry, for they were found to bee Cozin germames. Among the reſt, the Damoſell of Deamarke had knowledge here-of, wherefore conſidering what comfort this would bee to the Princeſſe Oriana, ſhe laboured ſo much as ſhe could to return toward her: knowing ſhe would giue her friendly countenance, bringing her ſo good Newes, what gracious fortune had happened to him whom aboue all other ſhe loued. For this cauſe ſhe intreated Amadis, to diſpatch her returne to her Miſtreſſe: In that I well perceiue, quoth ſhe, you can not 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 ſhedde ſo many teares. Theſe wordes cauſed the teares to trickle 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 mee entreat your friendly remembrance, commanding the vttermoſt of my endeauours, for without your gentle care my life cannot endure: withall, I finde my ſelfe ſo endebted to my gracious Miſtreſſe, as I dare not requeſt any thing at her hand. Neuertheleſſe you may ſay to her, that right ſoon ſhall I come to ſhew my obedience, and in like Armor will I be clad, as when you ſaw me combate with the King of Ireland: becauſe both ſhe and you may the more eaſily know me, if I cannot compaſſe the meane to ſpeake with you; & in this manner departed the Damoſel of Denmark. On the other ſide, Agrates ſeeing his Cozin Amadis was to remaine / longer in Gaule, determined to take his leaue, and calling him aſide ſayd. 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 heart will allow me no quiet, vntill I be with her, who both farre and neere hath power to command 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 diſhonour ſhe receiued by him) that I ſhould come to her with all conuenient ſpeed: and therefore I neither may or dare faile, which is the onely cauſe of my parting with you.

Now muſt you note heere-withall that at the time as Don Galuanes brother to the king of Scotland, was in the Realme of Norway with Agraies his Cozin: this yong 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 tel ye what this Galuanes was, he had the name of Galuanes without lād, becauſe al the portiō his father left him, was onely a poore Caſtle: for the reſt he had ſpent in following armes, & entertaining Gentle-men, whereupon he had the Sirname of without land. Such as you haue heard were the ſpeeches Agrates had with Amadis, of whō he requeſted to know, where he ſhould finde him at his returne from Norway. Cozin (qouth Amadis) I hope at my departure hence, to viſite the Court of king Laſuart, where I haue heard Chiualrie to be worthily maintained, with greater libertie and honour, 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 command mein their ſeruice, euē as your ſelf, or any other, as well in reſpect of our alliance together, as alſo for the gracious entertainment I had in my youth, being by them moſt carefully educated and eſteemed. This done, Agraies took his leaue, beeing Honourably conducted through the Cittie, by the King and all the Lords of his Court: but ſo ſoone as the King entred the fields, he ſaw a Damoſell comming toward him, who boldly laying hold on the raine of his Horſe bridle, thus ſpake.

Remember thy ſelfe King Perion, what a Damoſell ſome-time ſayd vnto thee: That when thou didſt recouer thy loſſe, the Kingdome of Ireland ſhould looſe her flower. Thinke now (I pray thee) whether ſhe ſayd true or no, thou haſt recouered thy Sonne whom 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 good brother of the Ladie muſt come, who ſhall by force of Armes cauſe to be broght thither the tribute of other Countryes, and he muſt die by the hand of him, that ſhall accompliſh for her the onely thing of the world, which moſt he loueth. And ſo it hap ned by Marlot of Ireland, brother to the Queene of that Countrey: whom Triſtan of Leonnoys killed, on the quarrell of tribute demanded of King Marke of Corne wall his Vncle: which Triſtan afterward dyed for the loue he bare to Queene Yſeul, being the onely thing of the world that hee moſt loued. Now muſt thou be mindefull hereof, ſayd the Damſel to the King, for Vrganda my Miſtreſſe ſo cōmandeth 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 whom ſhe gaue the Launce, commendeth him-ſelfe 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 vnknowne to me, being then at the very point of death, So without any other reply, the Damoſell turning bridle rode backe the ſame way ſhe came, and the King into the Citie, with Amadis his Soune ſo lately recouered: for which cauſe he aſſembled all the Princes and Lords of his Realme, meaning to keepe a more magnificent Court then euer he had done before, to the end that euery one might behold Amadis, in regard of whoſe honour and happie comming, there were Knightly Tourneys daily vſed, beſide great ſtore of other paſtimes and delights.

During theſe pleaſures, Amadis was aduertiſed in what maner the Gyant had carryed away his brother Galaor, wherefore hee determined (happen what might) to goe ſeeke him, and if poſſible hee 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 entreated the King his Father: ſeeing now he had peace with his enemies, that with his leaue he might goe ſeeke aduentures in great Brittaine, becauſe he was loath to remaine idle. But little pleaſing was this requeſt to the King, and much leſſe to the Queen, yet by opportunitie hee obtained permiſſion for his Voyage: nor could they all haue power to with hold him, by reaſon of the loue he bare to Oriana, which made him obedient to none but her. Herevpon, being clad in ſuch Armour, as he promiſed the Damoſell of Denmarke, he ſet forward on his iourney, embarqing himſelfe at the neereſt Port of the Sea, where by good happe he found paſſage readie. Not long was his cut into great Brittaine, landing at Briſtow, a moſt noble and auncient City of that Countrey, where hee heard that King Liſuart ſoiourned at Windſore, royally accompanyed with Knights and Gentlemen: for all the Kings & 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 demanded of him, if that were her readie way to Briſtow? Yea marry is it (anſwered the Prince.) I pray ye then tell me, quoth ſhe, if I may finde any ſhipping there, for my ſpeedie paſſage ouer into Gaule? What affayres calles you thither? ſayd Amadis. In ſooth, replyed the Damoſell, I goe thither to finde a Knight named Amadis, whom King Perion not long ſince had knowne to bee his Sonne. Greatly did Amadis meruaile hereat, for hee thought theſe newes had not been ſo farre ſpread abroad, wherefore hee demaunded how ſhe heard thereof? I know it, qouth ſhe, from her, to whom the moſt ſecret things of all are manifeſt: for ſhe knew Amadis before he knew himſelfe, or that his Father heard of Amadis; and if you would vnderſtand what ſhee is, her name (by common report) is Vrganda the vnknowne. She hath at this time eſpeciall affayres with him, and by no other can ſhe recouer that, which ſhee now ſtandeth in feare to looſe. Beleeue me Damoſell, anſwered Amadis, ſeeing ſhe who may command euery one, doth now pleaſe to employ Amadis, I aſſure ye it is needleſſe for you to trauaile any further: for I am the man you are ſent to ſeek, and therefore let vs goe, whither you thinke conuenient. What? ſayd the Damoſell, are you Amadis? Yea, verily am I, anſwered the Prince. Come, then and follow me, quoth ſhe, and I will conduct yee 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.

CHAP. XII.

How the Gyant bringing Galaor to King Liſuart, that hee might dubbe him Knight, mette with his brother Amadis, by whoſe hand hee would bee Knighted, and no other.

THe Gyant of whom ſundry times we haue ſpoken heereto-fore, cauſing yong Galaor to bee inſtructed in managing horſes, & all other exerciſes beſeeming a Knight: found him ſo capeable of euery thing, as in leſſe ſpace then a yeere, hee was growne meruailous perfect, ſo that now nothing remained, but to know of him, by whom hee moſt willingly would receiue his order of Knight-hood. Notwithſtanding, before the Gyant mooued this matter to him, one day among other, Galaor came to him in this maner. Father, quoth he, you haue dayly promiſed me that I ſhould be Knighted, I deſire you would bee ſo good as your word: for there is too much time ſpent ſince I ought to haue had it. In ſooth my ſon (anſwered the Gyant) you haue reaſō for your words: yet tell me by whō you would receiue your Order? King Liſuart, quoth Galaor, is reputed a gentle Prince, and a right good Knight, wherefore if ſo it like you, I ſhall be contented to haue it at his hand. Wel haue you aduiſed, ſayd the Gyant: 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 and ſtrong Caſtle, named Bradoid, ſeated on the toppe of a mountaine, enuironed about with Fennes and 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 broad that two Chariots might well meet together on it: and at the entrance of the Cauſey was a draw-bridge, where-under the water ran with ſuch a violent fall, as no one was able by any meanes to paſſe it. Heere muſt ye note, that equally facing this bridge, there grew two goodly Elme trees, where-under the Gyant and Galaor beheld two Damoſels and a Squire, with a knight mounted on a black Courſer, this Knight was armed, bearing figured in his Shield, two Lyons rampant: and becauſe the bridge was drawne vp, hee could paſſe no further, but called with a loude voyce to them within, that ſome ſhould come to giue him entrance, which Galaor perceiuing ſayd to the Gyant. My Lord (if it pleaſe you) I would glady ſee what this Knight will doe here. Soone after, they eſpyed at the further end of the Cauſey, by the Caſtle ſide, two other Armed Knights, accompained with tenne 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 ſticke for that, anſwered hee that would enter, cauſe you the bridge to bee let downe, and come to the combate: which preſently they did. But one of the twaine (more haſty then his companion) aduanced himſelfe firſt, and placing his Launce, ran with a ſwift carrier againſt the knight, who receiued him ſo brauely, as he ſent both Horſe and man to the ground. The friend to the diſmounted knight thinking to reuenge his iniury, gaue forth to meete him, and failing in the attaint with their Launces, ſo furiouſly encountered with their bodies, as the knight of the Caſtle fell into the water where he was drowned, and the conquerour rode on, which the Halberders ſeeing, preſently drew vp the bridge againe after him.

When the Damoſels ſaw he was thus cloſed in, they cryed out aloud vnto him that he ſhould returne, & as he was about ſo to do, he eſpied three other Knights well armed come toward him, who very audaciouſly thus ſpake. Vnhappy was the houre to thee whē thou dideſt paſſe this bridge, for thou ſhalt dye in this water, where he is drowned that was of greater reputation then thou art. Here with 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 vnable to reſiſt the pointe of the Launce, pierced through with ſuch violence, that the trunchion ſtill remained in his body. This done, couragiouſly he drew his ſword, adreſſing himſelfe to the other twaine, and they in like manner againſt him; where-upon began a dangerous Combate betweene them: but he with the Lions in his Shield doubting his death, laboured ſo much as he could to ouer-come his enemies, giuing one of them ſuch a ſtroke on the right arme, as (being cut from the body) it fell ſword and all to the ground: wherefore feeling himſelfe thus wounded, he galopped with all ſpeed to the Caſtell, crying. Helpe my friends, helpe your Lord who is in danger of killing. When the Knight of the Lions heard, that he with whom he muſt yet deale, was the Lord of the Caſtell: he deliuered him ſuch a rigorous blow on the Helmet, as made him looſe his ſtirrops and ready to fall, had he not got hold about the neck of his Horſe: in this ſtaggering the Knight of the Lions rent his Helmet from his head, and he perceiuing himſelfe vnarmed, thought to eſcape by flight as the other did, but his enemy got betweene him and the Caſtell, ſaying. Thou art dead, if thou yeeld not thy ſelfe my priſoner. Alas, anſwered the amazed Knight, I am dead indeede if you pleaſe, but as you are a Gentleman take pitty on me, for I doe yeeld my ſelfe your vanquiſhed. Suddenly the Knight of the Lions looking about, eſpied other Knights and armed men on foote, that came in great haſt from the caſtell to ſuccour their Lord: wherefore he ſtepped to his conquered priſoner, and holding his ſword againſt his throate, ſaid. Command thy men to returne elſe ſhalt thou preſently die. Then he who faw his life in ſuch perill, cryed to them, & made a ſigne with his hand, that if they loued him they ſhould returne: where-upon, they beholding their Lords life at his enimies ſwords pointe, obeyed his command with all poſſible ſpeed. Yet is not this enough, ſaid the conquerour, cauſe now the bridge to be let downe: which he did, and they came both forth on the cauſey where the Ladyes taried: 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 keepe me not from this Lady, I am but dead. Nay beleeue me, anſwered the Knight, that will not I do, but rather am to deale with thee as ſhee ſhall command me: then ſtepping to Vrganda, he ſaid. Madame, ſee here the Lord of the Caſtell, what is your pleaſure I ſhall do with him? Smite off his head, anſwered Vrganda, if he will not deliuer you my friend whom he keepeth in priſō. Here-with he lift vp his ſword to feare him, when the Knight falling on his knee, cried. Ah my Lord, kill me not, I will obey whatſoeuer ſhe commandeth. Diſpatch it quickly then, ſaid the Knight of the Lions. So caled the Lord to one of the halberders within, ſaying. Go to my brother, and tell him if euer he intend to ſee me aliue, let him quickly cauſe the impriſoned Knight to come hither, and the Damoſel that brought him with her. Right ſoone was the meſſenger gone on this errand, returning immediatly with the Damoſell and the Knight, to whom the Knight of the Lions 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 heretofore. But before he could finiſh theſe words, Vrganda ran and embraced him, the like did he to her: afterward the conquerour demanded, what ſhould be done with her that brought him thither. It is neceſſary that ſhe dy, replied Vrgàda, to let her know the price of ſo hainous an offence. Preſently was the poore Damoſel ſo ſtrangely enchanted, as ſhe ran skipping ouer the marriſh quag-mires, and turning backe againe, would haue throwne her ſelfe into the water, had not the knight of the Lions intreated Vrganda, to pardō her treſpaſſe for this time. Prouided, ſaide Vrganda, that ſhe returne no more to offend me, otherwiſe ſhe ſhall pay for altogether. Whē the Lord of the Caſtle ſaw the Damoſell was remitted, at his requeſt who ouer-came him, he thus ſpake. My Lord, I haue performed what hath bin commanded, therefore I pray ye giue me leaue to depart from her that neuer loued me. In ſooth, anſwered Vrganda, for honor of him by whom you make your ſuite, I am content, and you may returne. He being gone, the Knight of the Lions (who yet maruailed, by what occaſion the Damoſell was driuen into that 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 Damoſel, to worke her ill who knowes how to reuenge it.

Galaor ſtood and had ſeene all theſe things, where-upon he thus ſpake to the Giant Beleeue me father, I very much deſire that this worthy man ſhould giue me my order, for if King Liſuart be renowned, it is for his poſſeſſions, but this Knight deſerues it by his ſtrength and valour. I am well content anſwered the Giant, go and requeſt it of him, if he deny you the fault is his owne. So Galaor went forward, accompanied with foure ſquires and two Damoſels • , when comming to the Knight of the Lions, he found him yet vnder the trees. At his arriuall he was curteouſly receiued by the Knight, who reputed him one of the moſt comely Gentlemen that euer he had ſeene, afterward Galaor thus began. Gentle Sir, I am come to entreat a fauour at your hand. Truely, anſwered the Knight, if your requeſt be reaſonable, it will the ſooner be granted. My ſuite Sir, quoth Galaor, is for nothing elſe, but that it might pleaſe you to giue me the order of knight-hood, and in ſo doing, you ſhall ſaue me a great deale of trauaile to king Liſuart, to whom I am going for the ſame cauſe. My friend, replied the 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 errand as I am. My Lord, quoth Galaor, the great ſtate of the king can put no ſuch ſtrenght into me, as I haue ſeene performed 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 grant any other thing you will demand: for ſuch authority appertaineth not to me, nor to you likewiſe is it ſo honorable. As thus they ſtood on theſe tearmes, Vrganda (vnlooked for) came to thē, where-with the knight of the Lions was very glad: and ſhe hauing as yet not heard any of their talke, 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 knight-hood, and yet he is now in trauaile, with determination to requeſt the ſame of the famous king Liſuart. Certainly, anſwered Vrganda, to make him ſtay, will be a greater cauſe of euill to him then good, and I will councel him not to deſiſt from his former motion: for you ought nor to deny him, ſeeing I can aſſure ye, that honor will be better imployed by him, then any other in all the Iſles of the ſea, except one. Seeing it is ſo, replied the knight, in the name of God let it be done: goe we then to ſome Church to performe the vigill. It ſhall be needleſſe, quoth Galaor, to ſtand about ſuch matters now, in that I come not vnprouided of them already. 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 whom 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 ready, but Vrganda ſtepped before, ſaying. No, no, you ſhall haue a better: take that which hangeth on yonder tree, and you ſhall finde it farre more faire and good. Heere-with they looked vpon the tree, yet ſaw it not, wherefore they all began to ſmile, and ſhe doing the like, ſaid to them. In ſooth it is almoſt ten yeeres ſince it firſt was hanged there, yet no paſſenger by euer ſaw it: looke better about the tree, for ſure you cannot but eaſily behold it. Now did they all perceiue it tied to a branch of the tree, euen as though it had but euen then beene hanged there: and by it was a Scabberd couered with gold, ſhewing moſt fine and curious Worke-manſhip on it. The Knight of the Lyons tooke it downe, and afterward girded it about Galaor, ſaying. So faire a Sword beſeemeth a knight ſo formall, and thinke ſhee hated you not, who of ſo long time hath kept it for you. Moſt cheerefully did Galaor giue her thankes, and the knight likewiſe, thus ſpeaking to them. I beſeech 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 ye Sir, to tell me where I may find ye at my returne. In the Court of king Liſuart, anſwerd the knight, where I ſhalbe very glad to ſee you: and becauſe it is no long time ſince I was knighted, I am the more deſirous of ſome abode there to attaine honour, as you cannot chuſe but doe the like if you come hither. 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 command mee. So departed he from them, returning to the Gyant who ſtayed for him by the Riuer ſide, where hee had hid himſelfe, leaſt he ſhould bee ſeene.

But now you muſt here 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 whō at large ſhee vnderſtood, how the knight of the Lyons was Amadis, Son to king Perion of Gaule: whoſe cōming thither Vrganda had cauſed, to deliuer by force of Armes her friend that there was kept priſoner, for by inchantmēt ſhe could not compaſſe it, by reaſon the Ladie of the Caſtle was too cunning in that Arte, and there had firſt enchanted 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 whom they came thither: and hee by the Damoſell, Neece to the Ladie of the Caſtle, that in enchaunted furie would haue leapt into the Riuer, was conducted to this place.

So ſoone as Galaor had left Vrganda, ſhee demaunded of Amadis, if he knew the man to whom hee gaue the Order of Knight-hood. No, truely Madame, quoth he. In ſooth anſwered Vrganda, it is great reaſon you ſhould knowe what he is: for he beareth ſo braue a minde, that if you both ſhould meet without further knowledge, there might happen betweene yee great inconuenience. Therefore I giue ye to vnderſtand, how he is your owne brother both by father and mother, and the very ſame whom the Gyant 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, where-with (I aſſure ye) he ſhall do more in exploits of Armes, then euer any knight did in Great Brittaine. Amadis concieued hereat ſuch inward ioy, as the teares trickled downe his cheekes, wherefore he ſaid to Vrganda. I beſeech ye Madame, tell mee where I may finde him. It is not neceſſarie, quoth ſhe, that as yet you ſhould ſeeke him. Why ſaid Amadis, is he then conſtrained to accompliſh ſome predeſtinate matter, before I may finde 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 hapned to Galaor the new Knight, who beeing arriued where the Gyant ſtayed for him, thus ſpake. Father, I am now thanks bee to God, and him you ſent me to, a confirmed knight. My ſonne, quoth the Gyant, I am not a little glad thereof: and ſeeing it is ſo well effected, will yee graunt mee one requeſt? What? ſaid Galaor, am I to denie you any thing, except you would with-hold mee from ſeeking honor? My ſonne, anſwered the Gyant, I rather deſire thy happy proceeding therein, and that which I would haue appertaineth thereto. Demand then what you will, ſaid Galaor for I graunt it. Faire Sonne, quoth the Gyant, heretofore you haue heard mee complaine of the Gyant Albadan, who by treaſon ſlewe my Father, and yet forcibly detaineth from me the Rocke of Galteres, which iuſtly doth belong to me: I pray ye to take reuenge on my behalfe, for no other then you may doe it: remember how well I haue nouriſhed and vſed you, as alſo my true and vnfained loue, which is ſuch, as I will yeeld my perſon euen to the death for ſafetie of yours. This matter ſaid Galaor, you need not requeſt, but command me to doe it: as for my ſelfe, I deſire you to reſt content, till with Albadan I haue tryed this difference, ſeeing it concerneth you ſo neere. Beſide, heereof you may bee perſwaded, that if I eſcape with life, I ſhall continue euermore in readineſſe, to accompliſh any thing elſe for your honour 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 whom I muſt try my fortune. So tooke they the way to the rocke of Galteres, but before they had trauailed farre, Vrganda ouer-tooke them, and being acquainted with each other, ſhe ſaid to Galaor. Know yee (gentle Sir) who hath this day made you Knight? That doe I Madame, anſwered Galaor, euen the beſt knight that euer I heard of. It is very true (quoth ſhe) yet is hee of greater eſteeme then you thinke, but I would haue you to know his name: then called ſhe Gandalaz the Gyant, ſaying. Gandalaz, doeſt not thou know that this knight (whom thou haſt nouriſhed) is the Sonne to king Perion, and his Queene Eliſena, and how by ſuch like wordes I bad thee take him, ſince which time thou haſt beene his Foſter father? It is very true, anſwered the Gyant. Now then Galaor, my friend, ſaid Vrganda, the man that made thee knight is thy brother and elder then thou by two yeers: wherefore when thou ſeeſt him, giue him honour, and labour to reſemble him in hardineſſe and kindſhip. May it be poſſible? replyed Galaor, that King Perion is my Father, and Queene Eliſena my mother, and I the brother to ſo good a knight? Doubt not thereof (quoth ſhee) for it is ſo. Praiſed be God, ſaid Galaor, now may I aſſureye, that I am in greater care thē before: nor wil I make any ſpare of my life, ſeeing it is neceſſary I ſhould reſemble him you talke of. Thus returned Vrganda the ſame way ſhee came, and the Gyant with Galaor rode on as they purpoſed, the Prince demanding of the Gyant, what the Lady was that had communed with them? It is quoth hee, Vrganda the vnknown, as ſhe nameth her ſelfe, becauſe ſhe often tranſ-formeth and maketh her ſelfe vnknowne. As thus they deuiſed together, they came to a Riuers ſide where they would refreſh themſelues, and by reaſon the heate of the day was very vehement, they cauſed a Tent to bee erected: where long they had not ſitten, but they beheld two Damoſels comming toward them by two ſeuerall wayes, and met together directly before the Pauillion. So ſoone as they eſpied the Gyant, they would haue fledde, but Galaor came to aſſure them, and curteouſly cauſed them to returne, demanding afterward whether they trauailed. I goe (quoth one of them) by the commandement of my Miſtreſſe, to ſee a ſtrange fight, which one onely Knight hath enterpriſed in Combate, againſt the ſtrong Gyant at the Rocke of Galteres, to the ende I may bring her true tidings there-of. When the other Damoſell heard her ſay ſo, ſhe thus replyed. I am amazed at your ſpeeches, is there any knight in the word dare venter on ſuch follie? Certes, ſaid 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 ſee a matter ſo incredible. Hereupon they would haue taken leaue of Galaor, but hee ſaid to them. Make no haſt faire Damoſels, but tarrie if you pleaſe, and we wil beare ye companie: where-to 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 hee ſpake becauſe hee would not be knowne what hee was, or that his enterpriſe ſhould bee ſuſpected by them, whereto the Gyant (vnwillingly) did accord. So rode Galaor with the Damoſels, and three Squires the Giant left him to beare his Armour, making ſuch ſpeede in their iourney, that they arriued within two Miles of the Rocke of Galteres, where they lodged in the little Cottage of an Hermite, to whom Galaor imparted ſome of his ſecret thoughts: but when hee reuealed that hee came for the Combate, the good Hermit (abaſhed thereat) diſcourſed with him in this manner.

My Sonne, who hath aduiſed thee to this boldnes, ſeeing there is not in all this Countrey ten ſuch Knights, as dare aſſaile the Gyant, ſo fearefull and monſtrous is he to behold: and you being but yong, to hazard your ſelfe in this danger, aduenture the loſſe both of bodie and ſoule, becauſe ſuch as wilfully ſeeke their owne death, are very homicides of themſelues. Father, anſwered Galaor, God worke his will with mee, for by no meanes may I let paſſe mine enterpriſe. Greatly was the good man mooued to compaſſion, ſo that the teares be deawed his milke-white beard, beeing able to make no other anſwere, but thus: If not my Sonne, I deſire God to aſſiſt yee, ſeeing you will giue no better credite to me. Good Father, quoth Galaor, be mindfull of mee in your deuout Prayers: and thus till next morning they ſpent the night.

Galaor hauing armed himſelfe, went to the Rocke which was not farre from the Hermitage, for there might be eaſily diſcerned the Fortreſſe & great Towers, which deliuered good marke of a moſt ſtrong Caſtle. When one of the Damoſels ſaw they approched ſo neere, ſhe demaunded of Galaor, if he knew the Knight that ſhould performe the Combate? I thinke (quoth he) I haue ſeene him ſome-time: but tell me (I pray yee) from what place are you come to behold this paſtime? And what is the Lady that ſent you? None muſt know ſo much, ſayd the Damoſell, but the Knight him-ſelfe which dealeth in the Combate. Thus continued their talke, till they arriued at the Caſtle of Albadan, the gate wherof they found faſt ſhut, but Galaor ſtepping thereto called the Porter: at which noiſe, two menſhewed themſelues ouer the Porch, demaunding of him what he would haue. Goe, quoth Galaor, and ſay to Albadan, that heere is a Knight, who is ſent from Gandalaz to defie him: and if he come not out the ſooner, he will ſhew himſelfe of leſſe valour then reputation. You haue reaſon (ſayd one of them in mockage) but he will quickly bring a remedie for your chollor, if you doe not helpe it your ſelfe by running away. So departed the Watch-men to enforme the Gyant of theſe Newes, and when the Damoſels vnderſtood, that Galaor him-ſelfe muſt execute the enterpriſe, being terrified with amazement, they ſayd. Ah my Lord, you attempt a matter of ouer-much folly, would God you might ſpeed ſo well, as with honor to accompliſh an enterpriſe of ſuch conſequence: As for me (quoth one of them) I dare tarrie no longer with ye, for I ſhall die at the ſight of the Monſter with whom you haue to deale.

Damoſels, ſayd hee, ſeeing you may not be aſſured heere, 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. Beleeue me, replyed the other Damoſell, what-ſoeuer happen I will not goe, for I determine to ſee the ende.

The boldneſſe of the one made them both tarrie, yet did they ſunder themſelues by the Forreſt ſide, becauſe the Gyant ſhould not ſee them, and hoping the better to eſcape away if the Knight ſped not well.

CHAP. XIII.

How Galaor vanquiſhed the Giant at the Rocke of Galteres.

SOone was the Giant aduertiſed of theſe newes, wherefore not long after he came forth of the Caſtell, moūted on a horſe proportionable to ſuch a huge body: for it ſeemed an elephant, & he on his back made ample reſemblance of a huge Coloſſus, or like a mountaine mouing, rather then a man. Armed he was in plates of iron ſo long, as from his throate they couered all the ſaddle on the horſe, hauing on his head a bright ſhining Helmet, and in his hand a mighty iron Mace, being the weapon where-with hee commonly vſed to fight. Wonderfully affraide were the Squires and the Ladies that beheld him, and Galaor was not ſo aſſured, but hee ſtood ſome-what abaſhed: notwithſtanding, he reſolued ſo couragiouſly, as the neerer he approched, the leſſe account he made of his huge enemies Mace. When the Giant ſaw him come marching ſo brauely toward him, he ſaid. I maruaile demie man, how thou dareſt with ſuch boldneſſe tarry thy death he that ſent thee hither might either borow 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 thee, or hinder me? my confidence is in him who abated the pride of the great Philiſtine, and can likewiſe deliuer thee more baſe and vile thē the duſt. Exceeding angry was the Giant at theſe words, wherefore without any more talke, he lifted vp his Mace to ſtrike, ſeeming in his marching as though a Tower had beene caried about, but Galaor being prompt & nimble, ſtooped his Launce, and with a rough cariere of his horſe, attainted him on the ſtomacke ſo brauely, as he cauſed the mighty Poliphemus forgoe one of his ſtirrops, his Launce therewith ſhiuering in pieces in the aire. At this encounter the Giant thought to haue ſtroken him downe with his Mace, but he was too roughly and ſuddenly ſtaied, whereby his blow was giuen in vaine: for the Mace which was heauie, and comparable to a huge beame in bignes, being deliuered with ful force of both his armes: fel downe ſo weightily, as the Giant himſelfe was not able to hold it, whereby it lighted on the head of his owne horſe ſo peazantly, as being feld there-with, dyed preſantly vnder him, the Giant tarying a good while before he could recouer himſelfe againe. Yet the horſe being of courage, did oftē ſtriue to get vp, but Galaor thruſting his ſword into his belly, cauſed him at length to lie there ſtill enough: but in the end, the Giant did the like to Galaors horſe, and he ſeeing in what great danger now he was, by his wonted dexterity 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 held his hands, as breaking the ſtoke in pieces, he left but little length for the Giant to holde it by: yet he made ſhift to buffet Galaor there-with in ſuch ſorte, as he was conſtrained to ſet one hand to the ground to ſuſtaine himſelfe. But all this did no iot aſtoniſh him, for comming to the Gyant, (who yet kept play with the remander of his Mace, which by wary 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 the fleſh, with a wide gaping wound to the very bone. Feeling great paine 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 body of Galaor, but the ſore wound on his leg would let him ſtand no longer, conſtraining him to fall on his knees to the ground: & as the Prince aproch't to him, he thought with his other arme to pull him down, but Galaor perceiuing his intēt, ſtroke at him againe & ſmot off his hand. Now was the Giant deſpoiled of all force, being ſo wounded and ouer-trauailed withal, that he was no longer able to endure: by which meanes Galaor more eaſily parted his head frō his ſholders, which he deliuered his Squires to cary with him. Whē the Damoſels beheld this famous conqueſt, they left their ambuſh, & came to regard this maruaile, ſaying to Galaor. In ſooth worthy Knight, great good nurture hath beene beſtowed on you by your educator: for as we haue here-tofore heard, he hath the profit and vengeance, and you the honor exceeding all.

As they were about to rerurne, they ſaw ten Knights come forth of the caſtle chained together, who cried to him. Come my Lord, come take this place, ſeeing you haue done him dead that ſo miſerably detained vs priſoners. What thinke you? ſaid Galaor to the Damoſels, may we ſoiourne here this after noone? Truely, quoth they, we thinke nothing to the contrary. So went they into hhe Caſtle, where Galaor diſcharged the priſoners: & ſoone after, viands for dinner was brought him and his company by the ſeruants. When they had refreſhed them-ſelues, and at their pleaſure viſited the Fortreſſe, the ſubiects inhabiting the Rock came all to him, and would haue done him honor as to their Lord: but he by no meanes would accept thereof, for he tolde them that what he had done, was on the behalfe of Gandalaz, to whom that place by right appertained. And I, quoth he, as bound to him by duty, 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 wel am I aſſured, that he wil in •… eat you with loue & gentlenes. Theſe requeſts were preſently anſwered by one for thē all, who ſaid. Hither ſhall he be moſt hartely welcome, becauſe we hope, that he to whom we ſhall be vaſſailes and Subjects, will cheriſh and fauour vs: in ſto •• whereof, the other vſed vs as villaines and ſlaues, and you (being the conquerour) we hold for our only deliuerer. All things thus debated and accorded, Galaor departed thence with his company, returning to the Hermitage, where the Hermit attended for happy newes: but he was not alittle glad to ſee Galaor come with ſuch ſucceſſe, wherefore he thus ſpake. My ſon, daily are you bound to praiſe the diuine bounty, 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 hias way, & one of the Damoſels intreted 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 farre, but onely to behold the iſſue of the combat, which I haue ſeene with ſuch content, as I muſt needs make cōmendable reporte thereof to other, & ſo ſhall I not faile to do in the Court of King Liſuart, whether now I go to finde a brother of mine gone thether before me. Faire Damoſell, anſwered Galaor, if you meete a yong Knight, who beareth in his Shield a couple of Lions, I pray ye ſay to him, that the Gentleman, to whom not long ſince he gaue the order of Knight-hood, doth humly ſalute him, adding this withall, how he endeuoureth to honor the order, and when they both ſhall meate, he will acquainte him with ſuch matter betweene them, as yet perhaps he knoweth not. So tooke the Damoſell her leaue of Galaor, who afterward thus began to commune with the other. You know Lady, that I haue finiſhed the combate with the Giant, and you ſaide to me before I began it, how the Knight himſelfe ſhould know what ſhe is that ſent you thether. Very true, anſwered the Damoſell, but if you would be reſolued therein, follow me, and within fiue daies 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 muzing before, thought ſhe had followed him: but ſhe arreſted behind a little, and when 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 Countries 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 ſee what was the cauſe: I thinke, quoth one of his Squires, it ſhould be the Damoſell that departed from vs. What? ſaid Galaor, hath ſhe left vs? Yea truely, anſwered the Squire, ſhe tooke the way leading on the left hand. Beleeue me, quoth he, I had very little care of her, & haſtly without taking his Helmet, hauing only his Shield and Lance, he galopped 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 Croſlets and Halberds, and a Dwarffe on horſe-back, who cruelly laied on the Damoſell with a ſtaffe. When Galaor approched neere them, hee came to the Dwarffe, ſaiyng. Thou villainous and deformed creature, ſoone ſhall I ſend thy ſoule to the Diuell: and running fiercely againſt him with his Launce, threw him againſt the ground maruailouſly amazed. Then came the other eagerly vppon him, compaſſing him on euery ſide: but to the firſt he gaue ſuch a grieting with his Launce, as he lay ſprangling on the earth. Another of them buckled cloſe to him, laying load on his Shield with his Halberd, but at length he pierced his Lance quite through his body. When the other three ſaw this maſſacre, they ranne away ſo faſt as they could ouer-thwart the Forreſt, and Galaor not able to ouertake them, returned backe againe to the Dwarffe, who being gotten on horſe-back, fled away after the other, crying. Accourſed Knight, in hapleſſe houre haſt thou miſuſed my men, for thou ſhalt dy an euill death. Galaor ſeeing the Dwarffe laboured ſo hard as he could to ſaue himſelfe, would follow him no further, but went to ſee if his Launce were vnbroken, which he had left in the body 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 you 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 foord: now rode the Damoſell ſomewhat farre before Galaor, finding the paſſage ſo ready, as ſhe went ouer before he came. In meane while he ſtaied the returne of the boate, he eſpied the Dwarffe come after him crying. Villainous traitour thou art dead, if thou deliuer not the Damoſell thou tookeſt from me. Little account did Galaor make of his words, but looking backe, he ſaw three Knights come after the Dwarffe well mounted, one of the three thus ſpeaking to the reſt. It were great diſhonor for vs, to ſet all three 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 ſorte, as the Knight pierced Galaors Armour, making him feele the naked pointe 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 ranne againſt the Prince, the one failing, and the other breaking his Lance: which Galaor determining to reuenge, ſtroke 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, & ſped in meeting. Now albeit the encounter was with great vigour, yet eſcaped the armour on either ſide. Hauing thus galantly ſhiuered their ſtaues, they drew forth their ſwords, beginning a fierce and cruell combat, and while the fight endured, the Dwarffe without ceaſing cryed to his men. Looke well that he eſcape not, but kill him leaſt he get away. Then Galaor comming neere 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 companion ſlaine, being affraid of him-ſelfe, he turned his back and away: but Galaor purſued him ſo neere, that he gaue him a blow betweene the neck and the ſhoulders, which brought off a great many plats of his Armour. Now did the run-awaies feare more & more encreaſe, when he felt his enemy ſo neere at hand, wherefore the better to ſaue himſelfe, he caſt his ſhield back ouer his ſhoulders, & 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 tree, from which the Dwarffe kept himſelfe wel enough, for he had gotten more ground in running away then the other. Here-upon he came to the firſt that he diſmoūted, who hauing ſome-what recouered himſelfe, Galaor thus ſpake to him. Inſooth your misfortune grieueth mee 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, notwithſtanding you muſt note what the Dwarffe ſayd to vs: how you had beaten him, ſlaine his men, and taken a Lady perforce from him, that was in his companie.

Beleeue me, quoth Galaor, ſhewing him the Damoſell on the other ſide of the Riuer) he falſly lyed, and were it that I had brought her away perforce, ſhe would not tarry for me, ſo willingly as ſhee doth: but ſhe vnhappily ſtraying in this Forreſt, the Dwraffe met with her, offering to leade her away againſt her will, and becauſe ſhe would not obey him, he gaue her many cruel ſtrokes with a ſtaff. Ah, Traitour that he is, anſwered the knight for this villainie ſhall I reward him if euer wee meete againe. And becauſe Galaor found the Knight in ſo good ſort, he holpe to take his horſe that had eſcaped: deſiring him to puniſh the Dwarff for his treaſon. This done, he entred the boate and paſt the water, afterward hee and the Damoſell rode on their way, ſhee ſhewing him ſoone after a Caſtle neere at hand, which ſtood very brauely on the toppe of a Mountaine, ſaying. Here will be the beſt lodging we ſhall finde this night: and alighting from their horſes, they were entertained there with maruailous curteſie, 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 ende (my Lord) I may keepe promiſe with yee, if you pleaſe to ſtay heere till I returne, which credite me ſhal be very ſpedily: I will bring ye newes of her whom you deſire to ſee. I am content, anſwered Galaor, prouided that you make no tarriance, becauſe I haue affaires of importance elſe-where. Let it ſuffice, replyed 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 horſe-backe, and rode together croſſe the Forreſt, which when they left, the night ouer-tooke 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 very faire Citie, named Grandares, where comming to a Caſtle gate, the Damoſell ſayd. Now let vs alight, and follow me, for here will I ſhew you her, I promiſed: but leaue not your weapous and Armour, becauſe one can ſcant tell what may happen. The Damoſell went before, and Galaor followed her till they came neere the wall. Get vp heere ſaid the Damoſell, and I will goe on the other ſide to attend you. With much adoe he aſcended the wall, by reaſon of his weightie Armor, as alſo beeing troubled with his Shield and Helmet. When the D •… oſell ſaw hee was amounted, ſhee entred the Pallace to guide him as ſhe begun: in meane while Galaor was diſcended, and ſate hard by a Poſterne that entred a Garden, where he tarryed ſo long, till the Damoſell came and opened the doore with one of her companions, but ere hee entred, they thus ſpake. Although you haue attained thus farre, yet before you paſſe any further, you muſt needs tell vs whoſe ſonne you are. Let that alone anſwered Galaor, for I haue ſuch a Father, as til the time of better happe, I am content not to name him. Neuertheleſſe, quoth one of them, it is very neceſſarie 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 Queene Eliſena, and it is not ſixe dayes paſt ſince I could not tell yee ſo much. Stay then ſaid the Damoſell: ſo they cauſed him to be vn-armed, 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 through a chamber, where many Ladies 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 bedde a moſt beautifull Ladie, with an Iuory combe kembing her faire locks: but when ſhe eſpied Galaor, ſhe preſenly caſt on her head a Chaplet of Flowers, and came to meete him whom the Damoſels had brought, ſaying. My Friend, you are right heartily welcome, being the beſt knight in the word that I know. And you, Madame, quoth he, are moſt happily found, being the faireſt Ladie that euer I ſaw. Then the Damoſell that had guided him thither, thus ſpake. My Lord, ſee here 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 here, as her owne daughter. And you Madame, (quoth ſhee to the young Princeſſe, haue here preſent (as I can aſſure yee) the Sonne to King Perion of Gaule: wherefore you being both the children of Kings, excelling in beautie and natures perfections, if ye loue together no one dare blame ye. Here-with ſhe went preſently foorth of the chamber, and making faſt the doore after her, left the two loues alone: by which meanes they ſpent this night ſo amorouſly, as they that haue taſted like fortune may conceiue, and therefore meed I make no further talke thereof.

But the houre being come when Galaor ſhould depart, he was warily aduiſed thereof by the Damoſels, who brought him to the place were ouer-night hee had left his Armour: and after hee was inueſted therein (as hee ought to be) he went along the Garden againe where-through he came in. And as neuer any good chanceth, without ſome miſhap attending thereon, ſo nowe came it to paſſe for there found he the Dwarffe ambuſhed, that had ſo miſuſed him before, as you haue heard, who no ſooner eſpied him, but hee cryed out. Beleeue me, Sir Royſter, vnwiſe waſt thou to enter heere, for thou dyeſt, and the traitereſſe that did conduct thee. Come foorth Knights, come foorth, here is a man that ſecretly came out of the Dukes Chamber. It was no time then for Galaor to ſleepe, but lightly getting vp the wall, caſt him-ſelfe on the other ſide, where finding his horſe readie, he preſently mounted: notwithſtanding, the Dwarffe and the reſt (well acquainted with the ſecret iſſues of the Caſtle) with all ſpeed purſued him, and perceiuing how this villainous Dwarffe was cauſe of all this trouble, ſtayed, ſaying to him-ſelfe. Either I will die, or bee reuenged on this rediculous 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 exceeding impatience, thruſt himſelfe in the midſt among them, laying about with courage, as well they found who they dealt withall. Galaor ſeeing the Dwarffe ſtill kept aloofe, determining to die, but he would lay hold on him, and entring among the thickeſt of them, before his Launce brake he ſlew two out-right: then drawing his Sword, made them ſo ſoundly acquainted with the ſharpe edge thereof, as he that thought him-ſelfe 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 horſe, which made him fall to the ground in very great danger, for now they verily intended to murther him, and the Dwarffe perſwading himſelfe that hee could not eſcape, came neere to ſhew ſome part of his man hood: but when he ſaw Galaor had in ſpight of them recouered his feet, and happy was he which kept furtheſt from him, hee turned his horſe 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 blood guſhed foorth at all the conduits of his head. Then lightly mounted hee on the Dwarffes horſe, and the Beaſt ſeeming to ſtorme at this change, from an euill fauoured Dwarffe to one of the beſt knights in the world, made proofe whether his Rider could ſit faſt, or no, running violently with him a good diſtance from his enemies. And turning to make an ende of his worke, as by chaunce he lifted his eyes to the Caſtle, he ſaw in one of the windowes the Ladie whom he had choſen as his friend, ſhee ſhaking a white hand-kercher to him, meaning he ſhould be gone with all poſſible ſpeed, which hee did, becauſe hee perceiued more enemies at hand. With nimble pace he hyed him away, not tarrying till hee recouered the Forreſt, where to refreſh himſelfe a while, he gaue his Helmet to his Squire.

Now ſhall ye vnderſtand, how when the Dukes Knights ſaw him make ſuch haſte away, ſome were of the opinion to follow him, the reſt ſaid it was in vaine, ſeeing hee had gotten into the wood, & thus debating, they went no further, but ſtood as men confounded, with maruailing howe one man could be able to vanquiſh ſo many. Meane while the Dwarffe was come to himſelfe againe, but hee felt his body ſo ſore and bruiſed, as very hardly could he ſtand on his feet, 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 hee muſt needes reuenge. Through theſe importunate acclamations, he was brought by them before the Duke, to whom he declared, how he met the Damoſell in the Forreſt, & becauſe he would haue accompany her home, ſhee cryed out till a Knight came to and her, who killed his men, and beate him likewiſe very cruelly. Afterward, how hee followed him againe with three Knightts to haue her from him, and they in like maner were diſcomfited.

Laſtly, that ſhee brought the ſame Knight to his Honours Caſtle, and ſuffered him to bee with her in the Dukes owne Chamber. The Duke being highly offended herear, demaunded if he knew the Damoſell he thus complained on. Yea, my Lord, quoth the Dwarffe, if I ſee her againe. Here-upon all the Ladyes, and Gentle-women were ſent for, and ſo ſoone as the Dwarffe beheld her he ſayd. This is ſhee (my Lord) by whom your Pallace is diſhonoured. Ah Traytour, anſwered the Damoſell, thou lyeſt faſly, for had not the Knight come to reſcue mee in the Forreſt, thou wouldeſt haue abuſed mee: & villanouſly didſt beate me, becauſe I would not conſent to thee. Very much incenſed with anger, was the Duke againſt the Damoſell, and ſayd to her. By mine honour (falſe woman) I will make thee to reueale the truth. Afterward he ſent her to cloſe priſon: yet not-with-ſtanding all the paine ſhe endured, ſhee would not diſcouer any thing touching her Ladyes ſecrets, albeit ſhee was there very long tormented: to the no little griefe and ſorrow of Aldena that dearely loued her, and knew not by any other how to vnderſtand of her Galaor. But the Author thinking he hath kept ye too long from Amadis, returneth to him: intending when place & matter ſhall ſerue, to finiſh that which afterward happened to Galaor.

CHAP. XIIII.

How after Amadis departed from Vrganda the vnknowne, he arriued at a Caſtle where it chanced to him as you ſhall read in this diſcourſe.

GReat ioy had Amadis at his departure from Vrganda, as well for vnderſtāding that the man whom hee had Knighted, was his owne Brother, as alſo becauſe he approched neer 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 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 chanced on a faire Fortreſſe, as he gathered by the lights he beheld through the glaſſe windowes, and comming neere thereto, he heard the voyces of men and women ſinging, tunable to ſweet Muſicke that conſorted with them. When he came to the gate, he knocked and called for ſome to open it: but the harmony of the Muſicke, and other noyſe in the Caſtle, made ſuch hinderance, as hee was not heard. Notwithſtanding, hee ſtill more loud knocked and called, till certaine came and peeped foorth at ſmall creuiſes in the gate, and ſeeing him, one of them demaunded what he would haue there ſo late. Sir, anſwered Amadis, I am a ſtrange Knight that ſeekes for lodging. Strange? quoth he within the Caſtell, it appeareth ſo by thy language, but more by thy manner of walking ſo late: our country-men deſire the day time, and thou ſhunneſt it, fearing to be ſeene, or leaſt thou ſhouldeſt haue occaſion to Combate, and at ſuch an houre as this is, none trauaile the way except they be Diuels. Beleeue me, anſwered Amadis, little courteſie doe you know or ſhew, that vſe theſe words, ſeeing without further knowledge what I am, you not only rebuke but condemne me: and I thinke if you are poſſeſſed either with ſence or man-hood, you haue ſometime beene in like diſtreſſe as I am, and hauing found it in your ſelfe, neuer reproue it in another. Thou maieſt make triall thereof if thou wilt, quoth he in the Caſtell: but get thee walking, for here ſhalt thou ſet no foote this night. Now truſt me, ſaid Amadis, I thinke thou wouldeſt haue no man of valew in thy company: yet before we part, I am deſirous to know what thou art. That will I tel thee, quoth the other, on this condition, that when ſo euer we meete, thou ſhalt combate with me. I will not ſtick for that, anſwered Amadis. Know then, ſaid he within, how I am Dardan, who commands thee not to ſtray ſo farre this night, but that I may find thee to morrow morning. Thou vaunteſt of thy ſelfe very much, quoth Amadis, but if thou wilt cauſe Torches to be brought hither to giue vs light, and come forth preſently without longer ſtay: we ſhall ſoone ſee who ought to haue the worſſe lodging this night. What? ſaid Dardan, to cō bate 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.

Heere may the Reader by him-ſelfe diſcourſe awhile, what fruite ouer-braining commonly bringeth with it, & contrariwiſe, what perfection (among all other vertues) is in modeſtie. No well grounded courage, or gallant diſpoſed body, can duely put in exerciſe the benefit of the one or other, if moderation & temperance be not their guids 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 & preſumtion. Eloquence, and the facultie of well ſpeaking, is a rich and precious gift of nature, augmented and encreaſed by long vſe and ſtudy, to giue light and decking to the faire conceptions of the ſpirit: but it is there a more hurtfull peſtilence in a cō mon wealth, then when a well ſpoken Oratour will miſuſe his art & ſweetnes of language? Haue not ſome bin knowne 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 beauty, 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 it too much vſurpatiō of ouer-weening, and immoderate eſtimation of our ſelues. I will not heere compare the wiſdome of Vliſſes, with the arrogancie of furious Aiax, or the violence of Turnus, with the temperance of Aeneas: nor make other remonſtrances by the ſucceſſe of great matters, happening to mighty perſonages both Greekes & Latines. It ſhall content me, to ſet for example this only accident of indiſcreete Dardan, to the end that yong Gentlemen, who take delight to read this Hiſtory: ſeeing on the one ſide the patient magnanimity of Amadis, and on the other the furious brutality of Dardan, may propoſe the vertues to be imitated, & the vices to be deteſted and puniſhed.

Amadis then ſomewhat diſpleaſed with the outragious ſpeeches of Dardan, departed, not ſo much caring for his lodging, as how to be reuenged: & concluded, ſome-time in walking about, and other while in reſting by a buſh, to paſſe the incommodity of this night in the Forreſt, thus to beguile the time till day riſing. As there hee traced vp and downe, he heard the ſpeech of ſome body nere him, and looking about, eſpied two Damoſels on horſe-back accompanied with a Squire: after they had ſaluted him, and he them, they demanded from whence he came ſo late armed, wherewith Amadis throughly reported, all that had happened to him at the Caſtell. Know you, ſaid the Damoſels, the name of the Knight? That doe I, quoth he, for he tolde me his name is Dardan. Very true, ſaid they, hee is called Dardan the proud, the moſt audatious Knight in this country. I beleeue it well, anſwered Amadis. Sir Knight, quoth they, ſeeing you are ſo vnprouided of lodging, if you will take patience to remaine this night in our tentes, which are pitched heere 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 company: and ſo they ſupped together merily, afterward they gaue him a pallad to reſt vpon. Neuertheleſſe, before they parted, they demanded of him whether he trauailed. To the Court of King Liſuart, anſwered Amadis. And ſo do we replied the Damoſels, to ſee what ſhall happen to a Lady, one of the beſt and moſt noble in the Country, who hath committed her welfar to the triall of a Combate, and it muſt be within few dayes following bee performed before King Liſuart: but yet wee know not who will be the man, for he againſt whom the cauſe muſt be defēded, is one of the beſt Knights in all great Brittaine. What is, ſaid Amadis, the Knight ſo much eſteemed, eſpecially among ſo many good? It is the ſame Dardan, anſwered the Damoſels, from whome ſo lately you came. And on what cauſe, ſaid Amadis, ariſeth the Combate? I pray ye (faire Ladyes) if you know, let mee vnderſtand it. Sir, quoth one of them, this Dardan loueth a Knights daughter of the Country, who at his ſecond nuptials maried 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 maintaine, that all the poore Ladyes goods appertaineth to her, and if any gain-ſay it, he to iuſtifie the ſame in Combate. 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 Gentle-women, to keepe it ſecret and reueale it to no one, willingly ſhall I tell ye: all which they ſolemnely ſware to performe. I intend (quoth he) to combate for the Dame you ſpake of, and minde not to faile: but I would haue it concealed from any but your ſelues. When they heard what he ſayd, they were much abaſhed, notwithſtanding they made great eſteeme of him: ſeeing what they had vttered in praiſe of Dardan, could not affray him, but hee would hazard the Combate, and therefore ſhee that alreadie had broken the matter, thus replyed. Gentle Sir, your intent proceedeth frō a high reſolued minde, and wee will pray for your proſperons ſucceſſe. So gaue they ech to other the good night, and went to reſt till the morning, when they diſlodged together. Then entreated the Damoſels, that ſeeing hee went to the ſame place they did, and in the Forreſt kept men of euill behauiour: therfore hee would not forſake their company, whereof he made them promiſe.

Along they ride with ſundrie diſcourſings, where among other talke, they deſired, in reſpect they met ſo happily together; that he would bee content to let them know his name. My name, quoth he is Amadis, but I pray you keepe it onely to your ſelues. Proceeding on by vaſte and vnfrequented places, one day, when furtheſt they were from doubt, they beheld before them vnder a tree, two Armed Knights prepared for the Iouſt: who ſeeing them comming, ſtepped into the midſt of the way, the one ſaying to his companion. 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 companion, 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 Ladyes 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 wee pleaſe? Marie, that will I replyed Amadis: then lacing his Hemet, he tooke his ſhield & Lance, ſaying. Let the Damoſels alone you ſhameleſſe men, and defend your ſelues. Without any more talke they gaue their ſpurres to their Horſes, meeting together with ſuch puiſſance, as the Knight brake his Launce, and Amadis gaue him ſuch an attaint, that hee carryed him from his horſe to the ground, with his head vnder, and his heeles vpward: breaking the laces of his Helmet in the fall, ſo that his head remained without ſhelter.

When the other ſaw his companion downe, he would reuenge him, and couching 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 falling with his Launce, encountred him ſo fiercely with his body and Horſe, as he lay tumbling hard by his fellow, thē comming to the Damoſels, he ſaid. I pray ye heere-after come no more behinde, but for your better ſurety keepe ye before. A while he taried to ſee if they would riſe againe, but perceiuing they made no ſhew thereof, he forbare to charge them any further, & ſo rode on with his company. 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 meat, the two diſmounted Knights came riding thither, ſaying to Amadis. Sir Knight, you haue won the Ladies at the Lance, now muſt ye defend them by the ſword, otherwiſe we will cary them hence in deſpite 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 ſnccour of his companion, 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 wold not forbare, but as the patterne of vnconquerable valour, gaue him likewiſe worke enough to doe, ſo that all their wrong turned to his honor: for he gaue the laſt ſuch ſtrokes on the helmet, as the ſword glaunſing on his ſhoulders, cut in twaine the cuyrates of his armour, & 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 Shield, the paine whereof was ſo yrkeſome to him, as he cryed. Ah I am ſlaine. Thus ſpeaking, he threw his ſword to the ground, and the Shield from about his neck. All this auaileth not, ſaid Amadis, for I wil not leaue thee, except firſt thou ſware, neuer to offend Lady againſt her will. Alas, quoth he, I promiſe faithfully, and will performe it. Here-with Gandalin came, who gaue him his ſword and Shield againe, permitting him to go for helpe 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 aide, which is much better then we expected, and ſuch, as not onely aſſureth your reuenge for Dardans iniurie, but the Ladyes alſo, if fortune permit, you doe vndertake her quarrell. Then was hee vnarmed, and after his wound was dreſt, he ſate downe to meat againe.

At their departure thence, they lodgded at a good Ladies Caſtle, where they were moſt courteouſly entertained, and on the morrow trauailed all day, without any aduenture worthy rehearſal, arriuing neere Windſore where King Liſuart lay, when Amadis thus ſpake to the Damoſels. Faire Friends, I would not be known to any one, therefore til ſuch time as the knight come to the combate, I intend to with-hold my ſelfe from the place: and when the houre is, let your Squire bring me tydings thereof hither. Sir, quoth the Damoſels, as yet there wants two daies of the aſſignation, therefore if you pleaſe we wil tarry with you: and our Squire ſhall goe into the Towne, and 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 preently put off his armour. Now did the Damoſels change their opinion, and thought it better for them to go into the Towne, to ſee 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 vnarmed) he mounted on horſe-backe, intēding to ſtray abroad a little for his pleaſure & Gādalin guided him through 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 horſes: 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 Caſtle, breathing forth a vehement ſigh, hee ſayd. Ah 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 cannot 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 melancholly the teares trilled downe his cheekes: in mean while Gandalin who knew his complexion, ſtanding where he was vnſeene of any, eſpied a goodly troupe of Lords and Ladyes comming toward them, whereof he made haſt to aduertiſe the Prince, but he was ſo perplexed, as he could not anſwere, wherefore Gandalin tooke him by the arme, ſaying. My Lord, ſee you not what a great traine maketh toward vs? At theſe words he came to himſelfe, beginning to ſigh, and lifting his eyes 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 enemies in the world cannot bring me to ſuch extremity, as this ouer ruling paſſion doth: therefore I pray thee talke to me, of the felicity 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 Lord? anſwered Gandalin, eſteeme you the victory ouer your ſelfe ſo difficult, after ſo many conqueſts of ſtout and bold ſtrangers? Why do you not think, that peraduenture ſhe loueth you well, for whom you endure ſuch aſſaults, and happily by as great reaſon as you loue her? your perſoage, proweſſe, beauty, and nobility of linage, can they deſerue leſſe, then the good grace of the moſt rare & and exellent Lady in the world? let theſe humours (my Lord) repell your deſperations. Further hee would haue proceeded, but Amadis brake him off in anget, ſaying. Wretch dareſt thou blaſpheme ſo much, as to ſay, that he who hath merited no conditiō 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 looſe my conuerſation. Well, well, ſaid Gandalin, I pray ye wipe your eyes, leaſt thoſe that come hitherward perceiue you haue wept. What? anſwered Amadis, comes their any body? Yea mary, quoth Gandalin, and now they be at hand: here-with he ſhewed him the Knights & the Ladyes, who were hard by them, by time Amadis was mounted. Then (as though hee had ſtayed for their companie) hee ſaluted them, and riding among the traine hee beheld a Ladie (very comely and beautifull) who wept very grieuouſly, where-upon hee left the reſt, and rode with her, ſaying. Madame, God comfort yee, and giue you ioy. In ſooth, anſwered the Lady, and thereof haue I need, in that (as now) it is very farre from mee, which except Heauen fauour me with better grace, I am vtterly out of hope euer to ſee againe. And ſo high a Maieſtie, ſaid Amadis can prouide therefore when he pleaſeth: Not-withſtanding, if you were ſo contented, I gladly would know the cauſe of your ſadneſſe.

Beleeue mee my friend, quoth ſhe, all that euer I enioy in this world, conſiſteth in the tryall of a Combate. By theſe wordes hee knew this to be the Lady of whom the Damoſels had tolde him before, wherefore hee enquired further, if as yet ſhee had found a knight on her behalfe? No truely, ſayd the Lady, and (which greiueth mee moſt of all) to morrow muſt my delay bee exterminate. What will ye then doe? anſwered Amadis. What would you that I ſhould doe? quoth ſhee 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 widow. Such fortune ſayd Amadis, ſhall I pray may befall yee, 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 Ladie, and Amadis turning bridle, rode backe 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 field, with full reſolution to doe his deuoire. And truſt me, ſayd Amadis, it was my happe to meet the diſtreſſed Lady, euen the ſame whom the caſe concerneth: heere-with hee declared all the talke they had together.

But now is the houre of quiet come, and each 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 worde when Dardan was readie. Not ſo, quoth Amadis, I will not bee farre behinde yee, but let one ride before, to aduertiſe me when Dardan ſhews himſelfe in the field. After he was armed, they went all to horſe-backe, and being come to the iſſue of the Forreſt, he ſayd to the Damoſels. Now may you goe (if you pleaſe) for I will not depart this place till I heare ſome newes from you. Away they went, when Amedis 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 Combate (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 & honour, alſo like an amourous Champion to maintaine the quarrell of his beloued: who to countenāce him with the greater fauor, was queintly led by the reines of his Palfray, thē preſenting himſelfe before the king on his knees, he ſayd. My Lord, according to the ordinance by you appointed, this Ladie and I humbly beſeech ye, that the goods may be deliuered her, as is no more then reaſon: for if any Knight oppoſe him ſelfe againſt her, heere am I readie for the Combate. The king then called for the Ladyes defendant, but ſhe (poore ſoule) appeared alone. Why Lady, quoth the King, are you vnprouided of a Champion, that you come without any to defend your right? So helpe me God (anſwered ſhe weeping) I am (my Lord) forſake of all, except you grant 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 Law. In the meane while, Dardan who thought no reſiſtāce would come, ſate downe in the middeſt of the field, attending the third houre, which was the time according to the cuſtome, when the King would pronounce ſentence to the Conquerour: but one of the Damoſels ſeeing nowe the needefull time, made haſte to let Amadis vnderſtand, what want of his preſence was in the field. For this cauſe he immediately mounted on horſe-backe, and being armed as appertained, commanded 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, hee 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 wonder of him. The king and his Nobles ſeeing him come from the Forreſt, ſtood ſomewhat in doubt of him, for hee carryed ſuch a gallant and Knightly counteuance, as promiſed a-farre off that his enemie ſhould finde him of hautie diſpoſition: which made the King (aboue all other) deſirous to know him, and thinking ſhe for whoſe cauſe hee came knew his name, he called and demanded of her the queſtion.

Dread Lord (anſwered the Ladie) I neuer ſaw the man before, nor doe I know what he is. By this time was Amadis entred the field, when doing reuerence to the king and the Ladyes, without longer ſtay he came to Dardan: demauuding if hee were the man, that would maintaine the quarrell of her, for whom the poore Ladie was put to ſuch trouble; becauſe, quoth hee) I am come in her defence, and alſo to keepe promiſe with thee. What didſt thou promiſe me? replyed Dardan. That I would ſee thee in the day-time, ſaid Amadis, & wetteſt thou when? It was at ſuch a time, as thou being whitled with wine, or glorie, or elſe the truſt thou hadſt in thy ſtrong Caſtle, ſpeakeſt ſo out-ragiouſly to me ſtāding without, wearied both with trauaile & hunger. And therefore doe I make the leſſe account of thee, anſwered Dardan: but cauſe her to come hither, for whom thou wilt doe ſuch a doubtie deed, to know if ſhe will accept thee as her Champion, and afterward doe the vtter-moſt thou canſt. When the King ſaw 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 doe? With all my heart (quoth ſhe) ſeeing it pleaſeth him to ſtand ſo much my Friend, and God ſpeed him no otherwiſe then my cauſe is iuſt. Whē the two knights were at the very point to combate, the King perceiued that Amadis Shield was bruiſed in two places, both with ſtrokes of the Sword, and point of the Launce, wherefore he ſayd to ſuch as ſtood neere him, that if the Knight demanded another ſhield, he would gladly giue him one: but Amadis was ſo hot in deſire to reuenge himſelfe and the Ladie, that he liſtened to nothing but the Combate. Thus the Ladyes accord being receiued, the two Champions tooke their carrire againſt each other ſo roughly, as their Launces pierced their Armour and flew in pieces, without any other harme as yet: but when their bodies met, Dardan was ſent to the ground, yet it happened ſo wel for him, as holding faſt the reines of his horſe, he recouered himſelfe more nimbly, and mounted againe, as one both valiant and branely diſpoſed, boldly ſetting hand to his Sword. Whē Amadis ſaw him ſo quickly vp againe, & in ſuch readineſſe for his owne defence: hee approached to him, when began ſuch a battaile betweene thē, as euery one preſent maruailed 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 fielde, as alſo on the towers and walles of the Caſtle: but aboue the reſt, the Queene was there preſent with her Ladies, moſt deſirous to behold who ſhould beare away the honour of this cruell Combate; for they ſeemed two ſo gallant companions, as it was hard at firſt ſight to iudge the better. Such were the rigorous ſtrokes deliuered on either ſide, that ſparkes of fire flew foorth of their Helmets and Armonr, their Shields cut in pieces, and their blood colouring the groūd, which mooued exceeding compaſſion in the Regardants, who ſeemed copartners in their danger, according as ech one fauoured the wel-fare of his Friend: but the two Champions gaue no reſpect there to, becauſe their deſire was to make knowne both to the Ladyes and themſelues, the man deſeruing higheſt account.

When King Liſuart ſaw them endure ſo long, he ſayd aloud, that hee neuer beheld a more ſingular Combate, purſured with greater courage and man-hood: wherefore he determined not to depart, vntill he had ſeene the finall iſſue thereof, permitting them to proceed as themſelues pleaſed. And to the ende (quoth hee) that the Conquerour may bee dignified with more then accuſtomed honour, I will cauſe his deſerts to be liuely carued in Marble, at the entrance of my Pallace, to prouoke the like perfection in all other, that are deſirous to follow Armes. In ſuch manner as you haue heard continued the two Knights a lone time, the ſtanders by being not able to diſcerne who had the better: for without taking breath or reſt their fury continued, as thogh their ſtrength had more and more encreaſed. But Amadis who by chance turning his head to the place where the Ladyes ſtood, eſpyed his faire Miſtreſſe, louely Oriana, whereby hee felt his vertue augmented in ſuch ſort, that hee was as freſh and luſtie, as if but then he entred the field, imagining he was become more then a man. Now followed hee the fight with ſuch cruell extreames, as in ſhort time he diſſolued the doubt who ſhould be ſuperiour: for Dardan (not-withſtanding all his defence) was conſtrained to draw backe, ſeeking how to eſcape the wreakefull ſtrokes of his enemie, which without ceaſing wounded his bodie in many places: his horſe likewiſe no longer able to endure, ſtumbled ſo often, till at length he ſet both his knees to the ground, which made Dardan thinke it better to fight on foot, wherefore he ſayd to Amadis. Knight, our horſes are wearie, and faile vs, by reaſon we cannot doe as we would: and if we were on foot (me thinks) in ſhort time the doubt would be deſcided. Theſe wordes did Dardan ſpeake ſo loud, as the King and his Lords eaſily heard them: wherat Amadis ſeemed aſhamed, thus anſwering. Althought it be vnhonourable in a Knight, to forſake his horſe ſo long as he can keepe him: yet ſince thou thinkeſt to combate better on foot then on horſe-back, we will a light, and defend thy ſelfe well, for thou ſhalt haue need.

Here with they diſmounted, aſſailing ech other ſo furiouſly, as if but now they begun the Combat, ſhewing more ſharpe cruelty then before they had done: yet Amadis euer-more kept the aduantage, commonly deliuering two ſtrokes for one, which made Dardan doe nothing, but defend his enemies blowes, who compelled him to turne & reqoile, as himſelfe pleaſed, ſo that ech one accounted him very neere vanquiſhed, blaming him becauſe hee kept not ſtill on horſe-back. But as he turned here and there, flying the ſlicing Sword of Amadis, he was driuen vnder the Ladies Scaffold, which made them cry: Dardan can hold out no longer, he is ouer-come if he enter the Combate againe. Yet for all this Amadis would not leaue him, but preſſed him ſtill with ſuch purſuite, as hee brought him hard by the Queens Scaffold, when ſhe and all the Ladies ſayd. Without queſtion, Dardan is dead.

At this clamour, Amadis vnderſtood the voyce of the Damoſel of Denmarke, and lifting vp his head, eſpyed her ſtanding by the Princeſſe Oriana: by means wherof, he became ſo farre beſide him-ſelfe, as hee ſet the point of his Sword to the ground, forgetting not onely the daunger wherein he was, but alſo ſtood amazed at the ſight of his Miſtres. Which when Dardan beheld, he tooke heart afreſh, 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 houre 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 cowardize 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, & trampled in ſuch ſort on him with his feet, as he fell downe like one depriued of his ſences. Afterward, taking him by the locks of his haire he beate him on the face with the pummell of his Sword, ſaying. Thou dyeſt Dardan, if thou confeſſe not the Lady free. When Dardan ſaw himſelfe in ſuch eſtate: he replied: Ah gentle Knight, for Gods ſake mercy, kill me not, I will acquit her.

Now approached the King and the other Lords to heare what hee ſaid, and while they ſtood conferring with him, Amadis as yet aſhamed of his fault committed, drew backe through the throng: and ſeeing hee had gotten behinde them all, ſo couertly as he could he ran toward the Forreſt, leaning them al muſing at Dardan, who filled the empty arie with his complaints. In meane while his beautifull friend came to him, who inſted of giuing comfort for the foile he ſuſtained through her, began to deteſt and deſpiſe him, ſaying. Dardan, hereafter ſeeke thee ſome other friend then me, for while I liue, will I neither loue thee, or any other, then the good Knight who valiantly ouercame thee. How now Lady? quoth he, is this the reward of my honor & life aduentured for you? you then are not the friend to Dardan, but to fortune, who is no ſooner contrary to me, but preſently you are mine enemy. Haue I then eſcaped death by the mercy of my foe, to endure worſſe then death by the cruelty of my friend? Heauen ſuffereth me to liue, and yet you repine at my infortunate life: now ſhal I make knowne to all women by your example, that ingratitude is no leſſe hurtfull to ſuch as exerciſe it, then to any one offended there with. Hereupon he tooke his ſword, and before it could bee imagined what he meant to do, he ſmote her head quite from her ſhoulders: then as a man tranſported with madnes, ſtaring euery where round about him, declared by his angry, countenance, that high and not vulgare, was the enterpriſe he imbraced in ſuch an extreamity.

The King ſent his archers to conuay him thence, but ere they came to him, he ſtroke himſelfe ſo violently to the heart, as the bloud ſpouted in the archeis faces, and then he cryed out, ſaying. Now friend art thou reuenged by my vengeance, and thine enemy ſatiſfied with the deſpiſed life thou leſtſt me. So falling downe, he deliuered the laſt figne of his death, where at each one was confounded with maruaile, as well for the nouelty of the caſe, as pitting the very laſt words he breathed: but whethey remembred his paſſed life, wholly addicted to ouer-weening folly, they reputed this vnfortunate end happened to him, not ſo much by accident, as the deuine ordenance, which made them ſorrow no more, but couerted their thoughts to commend the conquerour.

CHAP. XV.

How King Liſuart cauſed a Sepulchre to be made for Dardan and his friends with an Epitaph in rememberance of their death: and the honor he did 〈◊〉 Amadis after he was found and kcowne.

AFter the vnfortunate end of theſe ill aduiſed Louers, the King in memory of this ſtrange accident, cō manded that in the fielde where they lay dead, ſhould be erected a ſumptious Sepulchre of blacke Marble ſtone, faſhioned like a Romaine Obeliſque, and thereon was engrauen in the Brittaine language an Epitaph, declaring the whole matter as it happened. And when he had knowledge of the conquerour (as hereafter the manner how is declared,) his name was placed thereon, and foure great Lyons at the foure corners of the ſepulchre, importing the de uiſe which Amadis bare in his Shield.

But now the rumour being appeaſed, and they teturned to the Pallace, he called for the ſtranger that won the honor of the day: but after long enquiry, no one could certainly tell what was become of him, albeit certaine comming frō the wood, reported how they ſaw a Knight returne from the field thither-ward, being alone and making great haſt. He that is worthy, ſaide the King, to beare him company, may imagine himſelfe happy enough: for ſeeing he hath ſhewed himſelfe ſo braue a combatant, it is impoſſible but he ſhould be a wiſe and vertuous Knight. And for no leſſe each one reputed him, who vnderſtood the i • uries of Dardan vſed to him, and ſaw how he requited them with gentlenes and courteſie: albeit I make no doubt but he knew right well, that if Dardan had got the better, 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, ſeeing the incomparible valour of him that fought againſt Dardan, began to ſuſpect that it was he: for (quoth ſhe to the Damoſell of Denmarke) I am ſure hee would not ſend me a fabulous meſſage, and this is the iuſt time he aſſured you of his cōming. In good ſooth Madame, anſwered the Damoſell, you ſay very true, & which maks 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 horſe. But did you, (quoth Oriana) take no regard of his Armes? Yea mary did I, replied 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 field, and the like I told ye he bare in Gaule, with two azured Lions rampant portrayed therein, which being battered all in pieces, he preſently made him ſuch another, aſſuring me to weare no other when hee came into this country, and therefore I will doubt no further but it is he. Sweete friend, ſaid Oriana, if it be he, either he will ſhortly come, or ſend into the Towne, therefore you muſt be watchfull & diligent to heare thereof. Madame, quoth the Damoſell, referre theſe matters to my charge. This conference cauſed Oriana to remain • very penſiue, and breathing forth many bitter ſighs, ſhe ſaide. Ah gratious 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 ready to ſit downe to ſupper. After he had vnarmed himſelfe, they told him the misfortune of Dardan and his friend, as alſo the whole circumſtance of their deaths, hereat he was very much abaſhed: then falling to their cheer, they begiled the time with ſundry pleaſant deuiſes, yet Amadis could thinke of nothing elſe, but how he might make his arriuall knowne to Oriana, wherefore they were no ſooner riſen from the table, but he tooke Gandalin aſide, and thus began. My friend, thou muſt of neceſſity goe to the Court, and labour ſecretly to finde the Damoſel of Denmarke, to whom thou ſhalt report that I am here, 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 hee ſtayed till he ſaw her he looked for, who was as buſie as he in the ſelfe-ſame cauſe: yet at the firſt ſhe knew him not, but quickly remembred ſhe had ſeene him in Gaule with Amadis, and embracing him, demanded where his Maiſter was. Why Lady? quoth Gandalin, did not you ſee him to day? it was hee that vanquiſhed proud Dardan, and hath with drawne himſelfe to the Forreſt to heare from his miſtreſſe, d • ſ •… g you by me, to let him vnderſtand what he muſt do. Right welcom • , ſaid the Damoſell, is he into this Country, being the man deſired aboue all othes: but my Lady muſt needes ſee thee, therefore follow me. If any one aske who thou art, ſay thou bringeſt letters to Oriana from the Queen of Scots, and likewiſe thou art come to look for Amadis, who is arriued heere as thou haſt heard: by theſe meanes thou mayeſt come to her without heere-after ſuſpition.

Thus was Gandalin conducted into the Queenes chamber, where the Princeſſe Oriana was, to whom the Damoſell of Denmarke came, and ſpeaking ſome-what loude, ſayd. Madame, heere is a Squire ſent to you from the Queene of Scots. Oriana weening ſhe had ſaid true, aroſe to wel-come him: but when ſhe knew Gandalin, the vermillion collour aroſe in her cheeks and was ſo ouer-come with ioy, as ſhee knew not well what countenance to vſe: yet Gandalin (as well aduiſed) ſet his knee to the ground ſaying. Madame, the Queene my Miſtreſſe heartily ſaluteth you, as the Lady ſhe loueth and eſteemeth aboue all other of her Kinred, deſiring to heare ſome newes from you, for here ſhe greetes you with all that ſhe doth know.

Then gaue he her a Letter, which he had ſeigned, hauing nothing written therein, but the ſuperſcription on the out-ſide: where-upon 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 maſter? Madame, anſwered Gandalin, he with-drew himſelfe into the Forreſt, ſo ſoone as he had conquered Dardā. Good friend, 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 liueth onely by remembrance of you, and yet ſuffereth ſuch anquiſh in his ſoule as neuer Knight endured: by the onely feare he ſuſteineth leaſt hee ſhould not be yours: miſtruſting his owne deſerts for ſo high a ſeruice. His greateſt hope is in your princely kindneſſe, and knowing him ſo long, as alſowhat he is, that you will not forget him. Wherefore, I beſeech yee Madame, take compaſſion on him, appoint a meeting together, then reſolue him, make me a happie meſſenger, and diſcharge your ſelfe of your deuoire: for hitherto hath hee endured ſuch ſorrow, as no man is able to ſuffer the like. Often haue I ſeene him (thinking on you) ſo farre beyond himſelfe, as he hath fallen downe dead in (a manner) before mee, ſo that I haue imagined (noting the abundance of his teares) his poore heart to be diſtilled into water, through the conduits of his eyes. If he ſhould die ye offered him great wrong: for he is yours, & eaſily can ye not finde another ſo worthy of you. Nor need you doubt, but if you graunt the houre of lengthning his life, he will ſurpaſſe in Chiualrie the beſt Knight that euer bare Armes: wherein if he be happy by his vertue, yet hath he miſhap to counterpo • ſe the ſame, onely through the paſſions he endureth for you. If now you will not deigne to afford him remedy, much better had it beene for him, that fortune had let him preiſh in the ſea, to the mercy whereof in his cradle coffin he was commited: then after his preſeruation by ſuch ſtrange meanes, to ſuffer him dye by a worſe ſhipwrack then the other. But if his diſmall ſtarres wil not diuert this danger, happy might he haue accounted himſelfe, if he had neuer come to the knowledge of his parents, whoſe griefe likewiſe he greatly increaſeth, to ſee him ſo conſume & dye before his day, being vnable to diuine or vnderſtand the cauſe thereof.

Gandalin all this while accompained his words with ſuch teares, and often among breathed foorth ſo many mournefull ſighes, as would haue enforced the very Rocks to rueth: but perceiuing Oriana was touched to the quicke, 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, more-ouer you ſhall maculate that perfect beautie, with the high condemned ſtaine of crueltie and ingratitude. Here did he knit vp his perſwaſion, attending an anſwere from the Princeſſe, but ſhee was not able to deliuer one word, ſo vehemently was her heart ſurprized and ouer-come: and holding downe her head, let fall wonderfull ſtreames of teares downe her daintie checkes, which enforced her to turne on the other ſide, leaſt ſhe ſhould be diſcried: then when as Gandalin would haue begun againe, ſhe ſtayed him with a piercing ſigh, ſaying. Ah, my friend, I pray thee ſay no more, vnleſſe thou be willing to ſee me die here preſently. Now ſtood ſhee ſilent a prettie while, often wringing and ſtraining her fingers with griefe, then ſetting apart all diſſimulation, ſhe ſoftly thus ſpake. The aſſurance thou giueſt me of thy maſters loue, is highly pleaſing and agreeable to me: but the paſſion thou ſayeſt he endureth, tormenteth me to the very death, ſo that I feele both his paine & mine owne. Ah God, let me not be the occaſion of death, to a man ſo high and precious of deſert as hee is, rather let me worke mine owne death, for if he die, I may not liue one houre. Thou art come to tell me his painefull trauaile, & now thou mayeſt goe to let him vnderſtand mine, which if thou kneweſt ſo wel as thou doeſt thy maiſters, inſtead of blaming me with crueltie, thou wouldſt rather iudge me vnfortunate, and if I vſe any crueltie, it is againſt my ſelfe, whom I haue depriued of reſt, pleaſure, and well-neere life it ſelfe. The leſſe ſuccour can I giue to mine owne deſtreſſe, becauſe (as it often happeneth to our ſects, when thinking to draw neere ſuch as we deſire, we are furtheſt off, and ſeeking for a harbour of contentment, glaunce into a place of torment and vexation: ſo falleth it out with • ee by thy maiſter, whom fortune hath euer kept mee furtheſt from, but God knowes my good wil hath alway beene with him: and gladly would I prouide for his griefs and mine owne, if I were able to compaſſe the meanes.

Doe 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 know how hee ſhall behaue him-ſelfe in this Countrey. Oriana then ſhewed him a Garden, which was vnder the window where they talked, ſaying. Returne to thy maſter, and tell him, that this night he muſt ſecertly come to the place thou ſe • ſt, & remember this withall, how the chamber (vnder where we ſtand) is the ſame that Mabila and Hodge in, and there is a croſſe barred window neere the ground, where-through we may eaſily diſcerne ech other, and talk together: for his Cozin is acquainted with mine affaires, nor is it neceſſarie they ſhould bee concealed from her. Then taking a coſtly Ring off her finger, ſhee thus proceeded. Deliuer him this token from mee, as the onely Iewell I moſt eſteem, and ere thou goeſt thou ſhalt ſee the Princeſſe Mabila, who is ſo wiſe and diſcreet, as ſhe will eaſily vnderſtand thee: yet thou muſt ſay ſome-what loud to her, that thou haſt brought her tydings from her mother. Here-upon Oriana called her to talke with the Squire, whom the Queene of Scots (her mother) had ſent to her: but when ſhe ſaw it was Gandalin, ſhe then ſuſpected how matters went: wherefore Oriana went to the Queene, leauing them in deepe 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 Queene of Scots by him. Madame, anſwered Oriana, the chiefe cauſe of his comming into this Countrey, was to ſeeke for the good Knight Amadis, Son to the King of Gaule, of whom you haue heard ſuch famous report. And where is he? ſaid the Queen. The Squi • e ſaith, quoth Oriana, it is more then ten moneths ſince hee heard that he was heere, and now he maruaileth to miſſe of him in this Court. Now truſt me, anſwered the Queene, right glad would I be, to ſee 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 Countres: wherefore I aſſure ye, if he doe come hither, hee ſhall finde here ſuch honourable entertainment, as he ſhal haue no cauſe to depart in haſte. Of his Proweſſe Madame, replyed Oriana, I know little, but what common bruite hath blazed abroad: but heereof I am certaine, how hee was one of the moſt braue yong Gentle-men that euer I ſaw, when in the King of Scots Court he ſerued Mabila and me. All this while Mabila continued with Gandalin, enquiring if his maſter were as yet arriued. Yea Madame, anſwered Gandalin, the ſame was he that vanquiſhed Dardan, and expreſſe charge hee gaue me to ſalue you on his behalfe. The name of Heauen be for euer prayſed, quoth ſhee, hauing preſerued our Kinſ-man from ſuch exceeding danger, and now ſent him hither ſo honourably. Ah Madam, ſaid Gandalin, hee were happy indeed, if the force of loue made him not in worſe caſe then dead: for Gods ſake therefore doe you aſſiſt him, being thus fully perſwaded, that if he finde 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 hee cannot with greater deſire employ mee, then I haue to doe him pleaſure: and will him not to faile in what the Princeſſe hath commanded him: as for thy ſelfe, being iudged to come from the Queene, my mother, thou mayeſt come and ſpeak with vs at al 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 extreams as hee had ſcant force enough to ſupport himſelfe: for the ſhort ſight hee had of his Ladie at the Combate, encreaſed ſuch a deſire in him to ſee her at more libertie, as euery houre ſeemed to him longer then a yeare. When hee ſaw that Gandalin was returned, in hope of happy newes, hee came and embraced him, not daring to demaund any thing of him, fearing leaſt matters ſhould not fall out to his contentation: but Gandalin with a cheerfull coūtenance, told him that he brought no fadde tydings, and ruſhing into the matter at firſt, ſaid. My Lord, God make yee as conſtant, as you haue cauſe to be conteut, for if you haue that vertue, you are the moſt happy and accompliſhed Knight in the world. Ouer-whelmed 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 know that they are prouided for you, if you hinder it not your ſelf. Ah Gandalin, quoth Amadis, ieſt not with me, but tell me the very trueth. Then Gandalin declared word by word, how euery thing happened, firſt of the counterfeit Letter, and next the appointed meeting at the window: and (by the way) reported ſome part of his owne ſpeeches, moouing a change of conntenance in Oriana, then her anſwere, euen to the concluſion before rehearſed: 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 hee 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 the other ſeemed inſatiable, in the end Amadis thus ſpake.

My faithfull Companion, I thought my ſelf altogether indebted to thy Father, who ſaued me from the daunger of drowning in the Sea, but I confeſſe, that duty belongs more neceſſarily to thee: becauſe (by thy diligence and diſcretion) thou haſt giuen me a better life then he preferued. But tell me now, didſt thou take good marke of the place to which ſhe commuanded me? Aſſure your ſelfe thereof, quoth Gandalin. for ſhe her ſelf ſhewed it me. Ah God, ſayd Amadis, how ſhall I deſerue the great good ſhe doth for me? Away from me now all ſorrowe and complaining. Yet this is not all my Lord, quoth Gandalin, See here a token ſhe hath ſent ye, as a teſtimonie of her honourable loue to you: ſo he gaue him the Ring which came from Oriana, and after he had long beheld it, kiſſing it a thouſand times, put it on his finger, ſaying. Faire Ring, that haſt beene ſo happy, as to be caried and accounted deere 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 •… re hers, and ſhe doth compaſſe my heart hith greater force, thē thou canſt poſſibly binde in my finger. Let vs leaue this talk, anſwered Gandalin, and returne to the Damoſels, who tarry for vs in the Tents but you muſt diſſemble conningly, for if they ſee you altered from your wonted mellanchollie. it may be ſome hinderance to your determination.

So they brake off cōmunication, and went into the Pauillion, where Amadis, (notwithſtanding) Gandalins councell) could not but ſhew himſelfe pleaſantly diſpoſed, whereat the Damoſels were verie glad, becauſe ſuch behauiour, better beſeemed him then his former penſiuenes.

When the houre of reſt was come, each one went to his accuſttomed lodging, and ſoone after Amadis ſeeing the time commodious for his enterpriſe, aroſe and found Gandalin, who had already prepared for their iourney: wherefore being armed, they mounted on horſe-backe, 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 tied their horſſes at a tuft of trees nere adioyning, afterward they went through a hole which a water-courſe had made in the Garden wall, and approched the window where Oriana lay: faire and ſoftly did Amadis knock thereon with his finger, ſhe not yet ſleeping who expected his comming, and when ſhe heard the louing ſignall of her friend, ſhe awaked Mabila, ſaying Sweete ſiſter, I thinke your coſin knocketh at the window. My coſin? anſwered Mabila, it may be ſo, but you haue greater intreſt 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 hec was attended. If they were then well pleaſed, it were folly to inquire, for all the contentments in the world, might not be compared to the ioy of ſeeing each other. And without queſtion, they had two inducing reaſons thereto, for beſide the nouriſhment they receiued together in their yonger yeeres, and their firſt amity, continued by the rememberance and good opinion they had of each other: their beauty and perfections were ſo correſpondent, as if they had neuer ſeene one another till that very inſtant, yet had they cauſe enough to loue together. Oriana had on ſuch braue attire beſeeming the night, as ſet the heart of her loue on fire, for vnder a fine & dainty white frontlet, appeared the rareſt golden treſſes of haire that euer nature made, and about her ſhoulders ſhe had a mantle of figured cloth of gold, imbroidered all ouer with rich and coſtly flowerts, as it might beſeeme the greateſt Maieſtie in the world. And for her ſelfe, a thing more faire was impoſſible to be found, the inward conceite of her preſent comfort, decked her face with ſuch a heauenly beauty, as it ſeemed that nature in pride of her art, made this piece to excell all other in perfection. I will leaue you then to conſider on the iudgement of Amadis, who (when ſhe was nothing ſo glorious in fairenes) thought her worthy the loue of the beſt Knight in the world: now if he ſtood 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 liberty (contrary to my duty and cuſtome) to ſee me in this place at an houre ſo vnfitting you muſt commit the offence to the ſecurity, which our former nurturing together loyally promiſed, and likewiſe to the good opinion of your great vertues ſi • ce that time encreaſed: which hath conquered no leſſe fauour in me, then honor and renowne in all other places. Amadis to auoide further ſilence, thought it better to let his ſpeeches paſſe at aduenture, then (by holding his peace) to be reputed vnworthy 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 very higheſt tipe of grace ſhe could affoord me: nor do I feele my ſelfe ſo beholding to my vertues, as I reſt double bound to thē that report ſo wel 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 whē you ſhall allow me more ample courteſie, it may command a ſtricter bond of duty, but not affection, for that is already ſo ſubſtantially grounded, that the vttermoſt good you can do me, is neither able to augment it, or the ſharpeſt vnkindnes diminiſh it. I know not whether it be ſeemely for a man, to cō feſſe the extremities he hath infinite times endured by this paſſion, the very leaſt griefe I receiued, hath beene the loſſe of reſt, and baniſhment of ſleepe frō mine eyes: and yet to afflict me with greater torment, my ſpirit hath ſeene in a dreame what it vnceſſantly deſired. How many times hath it happened to me, in thinking on you to be ſo cōfounded, that ſuch as haue ſeene me, reputed me not only depriued of common ſince, but euen of very life it ſelfe? What moman, what child well beaten, hath euer powred forth ſo many teares, as I poore Knight haue done? yea my very chiefeſt enterpriſes huae I ſprinckled withall for your ſake: not as feeling my ſelfe a happy ſubiect in loue, but rather too little merit of my ſelfe, and much leſſe hope. This fauour proceeding frō you in deigning to heare me, is greater then euer I durſt hope for, and ſo farre doth it ſurmount my paſſions, as I cannot expreſſe the leaſt part of my ioy: my tongue likewiſe ſeemeth as vnprofitable & ignorant of his office, hauing bin ſo long from ſeruing me to you. But aboue all, this impuiſſance in ſpeech, ſhall on my behalfe teſtifie to you, what all the words in the world cannot deliuer with ſufficient truth: for as all other beauty in cōpariſon of yours is nothing, ſo before mine affection, al the other habilities of my ſoule vaniſh away, and become of no reckoning Will you thē (good madame) with your courteſie ſupply my inſufficiencie, and (with pittie) giue me both life and my ſelfe: and conſerue that which elſe cannot be, vnleſſe it be yours onely. 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 moued to compaſſion, thus anſwered. I make no doubt (deere friend) but you loue me in reſpect of the pains you haue taken for me, as alſo by what you haue now tolde me: and though I ſhould haue no ſigne thereof by ſpeech or ought elſe, yet am I •… ent to beleeue, becauſe my heart hath no other de •… e, but heerein concerneth greateſt contentment. And yet the torment I ſee you in with impacience, troubleth my quiet, for you being aſſured by ſufficient proues, and eſpecially this, that I loue ye: me thinks 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 feele no leſſe then you do your ſelfe. If you will not appeaſe them for your owne ſake, I pray ye let it be done for mine, the rather, that we may the oftner meete (if you pleaſe) publiquely: when ſuch ſadnes will but diſcouer, what wee moſt willingly would keepe vnknowne, whereby may ariſe two great inconueniences, and be a meane to hinder the thing we chiefeſt deſire Sweete Lady anſwered Amadis, I haue ſuch felicitie in ſeeing 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 p •… ſiuenes, which makes me wonder that I cannot dye heere in this ſolace. If then I haue offended you by this tranſportation, pardon it in your owne ſelfe, who brought me to this happy miſ-fortune, and likewiſe gaue me this hurtfull medicine: ſuffer me then yet longer to vſe it, that in the aſſurance of your grace, I may by little and little learne to ſupport it, and attaine the knowledge of liuing content: excuſing my apprenti-ſhood in this felicity, being yet ſcant skilfull enough how to vſe it. Loue is ſickneſſe, and be it fauourable or contrary, it cannot be without paſſion, working the like affect in other, which you reproue in me. Well haue you ſaid my friend, anſwered Oriana, how you are as yet but an Apprentiſe: and ſo you ſhew very well by your words, prouing that loue cannot be without paſſion. I hope to ſee the time, when you (attaining greater and more perfect knowledge therein, then yet you haue) ſhall be in higher tranquility of minde, which (it may be) you thinke cannot be had in this world. Nor ſhall it not happen to you by admiration of that which now you moſt loue, and is likewiſe of farre more leſſe account: but by the fruition of the thing wherein felicity conſiſteth, the knowledge whereof vniteth and lifteth the ſpirits ſo high as heauen. And albeit I am yet ſo yong 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 merry & contented. Ah Madame, ſaid Amadis, the hope of that happy day, ſhall make mee paſſe this mournfull life in patience, ſupporting for your honor my inward paines ſo couertly as I can, & bearing the outward with what courage poſſible I may: but I beſeech ye do me the fauour, as to tell mee when it will be. Well perceiued Oriana, that he had not thorowly vnderſtood her meaning, wherefore in ſmiling ſhe ſaid. It is already begun, but the dazling of your eyes will not let you ſee it. Heere-with Amadis became very penſiue, holding his eyes ſtedfaſtly fixed on her, and ſhe to change his ſadnes, tooke 〈◊〉 by the hand thorow the window: which Amadis kiſſed a thouſand times, without any word paſſing betweene them, and Mabila 〈…〉 ſhe came to them ſaying. 〈◊〉 you forgot your ſelues. Amadis lifting vp his head, courteouſly ſaluted her, ſhe doing the like to him, and after ſundry ſpeeches of wellcome, as alſo how long they deſired to ſee him: Mabila demāded, what length of time he intended to ſtay in the Court. So long as it ſhall pleaſe Madame Oriana, anſwered Amadis. It muſt be th •• continually, quoth Oriana, and you ſhall grant it if the King requeſt it. Sweete Madame, anſwered Amadis, if it pleaſe his Maieſtie ſo much to honor me, I will obey both him and you: yet will I diſſemble ſtrangnes a while. All the better, replied Mabila, and in the meane time I pray ye viſit vs often. Longer they would haue continued in talke, but Gandalin gaue them warning how the day appeared, wherefore he ſaid to Amadis. My Lord, me thinkes you are importunate, but then you muſt needs accuſe the day. Amadis gaue no eare to him, for he proceeded on ſtill with his deuiſe: but Oriana perceiuing Gandalin ſaid 〈◊〉 , thus ſpake to Amadis. Now goe my Lord if you pleaſe, for it is 〈◊〉 & forget not your promiſe. Then taking her by the hand, and kiſſing it, he went to horſe-backe, returning to the wood where he left the Damoſels, who had by entreaty earneſtly perſwaded him, to goe deliuer their coſin that the King held captiue, vntill ſuch time ſhee preſented her Champion, as you haue heard: wherefore after they had • eſted till morning, they returned to the Towne, in the greateſt fauour and expectation of the world.

CHAP. XVI.

How Amadis made himſelfe knowne to King Liſuart, as alſo the Princes and Lords of his Court, of whom he was honorably receiued and feaſted.

EArely the next morning, Amadis armed himſelfe, and mounting on horſe backe, rode preſently to the Towne accompanied with the two 〈◊〉 : where being arriued, they •… ght him to their coſins lodging, when the good Lady knowing her worthy •… pion, falling on her knees before him, ſayd. My Lord, all the goods I haue you gaue me, for of you I hold them and no other, diſpoſe therefore of them as you pleaſe▪ • ut Amadis brake her off in this maner. Come Lady, let vs goe before the King, to the end he may acquit you, and I returne where vrgent affaires call me: ſo taking off his Helmet, hee rode on to the Pallace with the three Ladyes. The people knowing him to be the man that ouer came Dardan made ſuch thronging in the ſtreetes to ſee him, as the king was giuen to vnderſtand thereof: and he reioycing at his comming, honored him ſo much, as he came to meete and receiue him on the way, thus ſpeaking to him. Worthy knight, hither are you ſo wel-come, as may be deuiſed, becauſe we haue beene very deſirous to ſee you. Amadis noting this gracious entertainment, ſetting his knee 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 wordes enforced Amadis to bluſh, yet he replyed in this manner. My Lord, to deſire the Ladyes diſcharge whom you cauſed to be detained, I am bold to come before your Highneſſe: and ſeeing ſhe hath anſwered the Law according to your appointment, (hereafter) I hope ſhe may enioy her libertie: yet till this preſent, ſhe knew not who maintained her quarrell againſt Dardan.

While the King & Amadis thus conferred together, a great number of people gathered about thē; ſome commending his beautie, other his gallant youth, and all in generall his famous Chiualrie: in that hee being ſo young, had the power to vanquiſh Dardan, who was redoubted & feared through all Brittaine. By this time, ſundry ſpeeches paſt betweene him and the King, where-among he diſſembled his ſpeedie departure, to prouoke a deſire in him to ſtay him, and thus ſpake Amadis.

Dread Lord, ſeeing the Ladie is free, I deſire leaue for my returne againe: but if in ought I may doe your Maieſtie any ſeruice, I am the man readie to bee commaunded: and you the Prince whom moſt I deſire to honour. Good Friend, quoth the King, your departure muſt not be ſo ſoone, except you delight to diſpleaſe me. God forbid, anſwered Amadis, in reſpect my endeauour is altogether to obey you. Doe you thinke, ſayd the King, it is any obedience, if I may not entreat a longer ſtay? In ſooth, my Lord, quoth Amadis, you may and ſhall command, for in greater matters then this I will not offend ye. Goe then and vn-arme you, replyed the King; and ſpeaking theſe wordes, him-ſelfe tooke 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, whom he commanded to keepe him companie: for King Liſuart was a Prince, that eſpecially fauoured and honoured ſtrange Knights. Hauing left Amadis thus worthily accompained, he went to the Queene, and tolde her in what manner hee had ſtayed the good Knight who ouercame Dardan. But doe yee (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, ſayd the Queen, he is the Sonne to King Perion of Gaule. I would it might fall out ſo well, anſwered the King. Doe you know, quoth the Queene, who may put vs out of this doubt? euen the Squire that talked with Mabila, who came to ſearch him in your Court, and ſaid, how hee was aduertiſed of his arriuall in this Countrey long before. Immediately 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 thee, that I may bee 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, ſayd. Ah my Lord, great trauaile haue I endured to finde you, ſince I departed from the Scottiſh Court. Gandalin, my good friend, right heartily art thou will-come to mee, what newes doeſt thou bring? None but good, my Lord, anſwered Gandalin, all your noble Friendes are in perfect health, commending them-ſelues to your Excellencie, but hence-forth Sir, you muſt conceale your ſelfe no longer: then turning to the King • e thus proceeded. Mightie King, hee that hath beene ſo long time vnknown, is this braue Prince, the famous Amadis, Sonne to the inuincible king Perion of Gaule: and then came his Fathet to vnderſtand ſo much, when he ſlewe in combate the puiſſant King Abies of Ireland, by meanes whereof he recouered his Realme which was well-neere loſt. By theſe deuiſes was Amadis diſcoured, and better wel-commed then before: for till thē he was not knowne, but through his famous deedes, the renowne whereof was euery-where blazed abroad, and now was hee ſo well honoured for his vertue as his Nobleneſſe required. So ſpent they the whole day in honourable Feaſting, vntill ſuch time as each one with-drew him-ſelfe; when king Liſuart commanded the King of Norgalles, that he ſhould lodge in Amadis chamber: afterward when they were alone, to ſound his minde, & vnderſtand by all meanes poſſible, if he would conſent to remaine in his ſeruice. Thus leauing them together, hee returned to the Queene, 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 Gentle-man of long time, for the high account is helde of him, would cauſe mee to bee much more feared and redoubted. My Lord, quoth the Queene, graunt him any thing he ſhall demaund, and doe your ſelfe preſent him what you imagine will beſt pleaſe him. Hee requeſteth nothing of me, replyed the king, for if he did, I would conſent thereto more willingly then he could deſire. Me thinkes it were good, ſayd the Queene, to entreat him firſt, by ſome other of our Court, & if they cannot preuaile, will him to come ſee mee, your daughter, and our Cozin Mabila: they likewiſe ſhall ſolicite the matter, for they knew him when hee ſerued them as a Squire. Then ſhall we let him vnderſtand, how all the Knights here are yours, and none but thinks him-ſelfe honoured thereby: 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 ciuility thē Chiualry. Now becauſe it waxed ſome-what late, the King bade his Queene good-night, & 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 chiefe point of his deſire, and might not by all theſe entreaties be wonne. When he perceiued he laboured in vaine, on the Morrow-morning hee brought him to the king, of whom Amadis made offer to take his leaue: But the king anſwered him in this manner. My good friend, you ſhould haue done me pleaſure not to depart ſo ſoone, yet can I not conſtraine ye to tarrie againſt your will, but my Queene would gladly ſee you before your departure. Nor will I goe my Lord, anſwered Amadis, before I haue done my dutie to her: where-upon taking him by the hand, he brought him into her Chamber, and thus ſpake to her. See heere, Madam, king Perions Sonne of Gaule, who is come to ſalute you before his departure. In ſooth my Lord, anſwered the Queene, he doth mee great honour, and he is very heartily wel-come hither.

Then Amadis ſtepping to her, fell on his knee 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 mean while the Queene courteouſly entertained Amadis, but the other Ladies and Gentle-women, who had heard ſuch fame of his beautie and excellent perferfections, beganne to eye him very diligently, maruailing that Nature had ſo enriched him, with the onely thing they moſt deſired. Now knew Amadis by their countenances what iudgement they held of him, yet durſt he not turne his head aſide, fearing leaſt ſeeing his Oriana, by ſome ſudden mutation, hee might reueale what carefully he couetted to hide. And as he continued in this perplexitie, the Princeſſe Mabila came and did him reuerence, where-upon the Queene (the better to compaſſe her intent) called her daughter, who diſſembled as if ſhe ſcant knew him, and thus ſhee ſpake to her. Faire daughter, remember you not the ſonne of king Perion of Gaule, who ſerued you well while he was your Squire, and yet may doe (if it pleaſe him) now he is a Knight? in ſoothe, you muſt al aſſiſt me in deſiring him to grant mee one requeſt. And know ye what it is? quoth ſhe to Amadis, the king earneſtly entreateth you to remaine in his Court, and yet as I vnderſtand, you haue no wil to afford him ſo ſmall a fauor. We ſhal ſee anon, if Ladies hold greater Priuiledge in knights, then men doe, therefore wee all ioyne together in one ſuite, that you would be knight to my daughter and my ſelf, & likewiſe to them whom you ſee in this faire cōpanie. And if you will doe ſo much for vs, you ſhall deliuer vs from ſeeking ſupport in any other, who happily cannot be ſo agreeable to vs: for wel 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 doe in this caſe, wherefore they flocked about him altogether, and with ſignes of earneſt Supplication, confirmed the Queenes requeſt: eſpecially Oriana, who gaue him a ſigne that he ſhould conſent, but very wiſely diſſembled it, although he had no other deſire in the world: wherefore the Queene ſeeing him ſo ſlow in anſwering, as if ſhe would haue preſſed him thereto, ſaid. Well, Sir Amadis, wha •• ſhall we be denyed? Madame, replied Amadis, what is he that dare do otherwiſe, then grant your will and theſe Ladyes preſent, ſeeing you are the moſt honorable Queen of the world, and they likewiſe deſerue the higheſt point of ſeruice? therefore madame, by your commandement 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 doe nothing but for you onely, and if I accōpliſh any ſeruice for the King, it ſhall be yours and none of his. Then as our Champion, anſwered the Queene, all we accept you: & theſe glad tidings ſhe ſoone ſent to the King, who was ſo highly pleaſed therewith, that he commanded the King of Norwales to goe and beare him company, and himſelfe for ioy went preſently to him, whē taking him in his armes, he ſayd. 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 entreat you according to your deſerts. Amadis on his knee humble thanked him, albeit he only ſtaied by the commandement of Oriana, and no ſuch other matter as he feigned to the Queene.

For this time the author leaueth Amadis, returning where he left the Prince Galaor, who being departed from the Duke of Bryſtoyaes Caſtle, where the villainous Dwarffe vnhappily diſcouered him: all that day he wandred in the Forreſt of Arinida, not meeting any one to direct him a more ready way, yet toward euening, he ſaw a Squire come toward him, mounted on a right good Courſer. Now had Galaor receiued a certaine wound, by one of the three Knights that aſſailed him as you haue heard, which by reaſon of dallying with his new friend the night paſt, began to feſter and ranckle very much, and feeling himſelfe not halfe currant, he ſaid to the Squire. My friend, 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 mee where I may finde helpe for my wound? Rather, quoth the Squire, would I ſeeke one to giue thee 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. Nay thou ſhalt do it, quoth Galaor, by friendſhip or force. By force, replied the Squire, thinkeſt thou I will do any thing for ſo bad and falſe a Knight as thou art? Whē Galaor heard him ſpeake ſo imperiouſly, he drew his ſword, making ſhew as if he would ſmite off his head, ſaying. Villaine thou ſhalt conduct me, elſe will I ſend thy ſoule to all the Deuils. The Squire being affraid, thus anſwered. Seeing thou enforceſt me, I will bring thee to a place where thy folly ſhall be chaſtiſed, and my outrage reuenged. Heere-with he rode before, leauing the right way, Galaor following ſome diſtance behinde him, and by time they had ridden the length of a mile, they came to a Fortreſſe ſeated in a pleaſant vally, brauely enuirōed about with trees: the Squire thē pointing him to the place, ſaid. Now mayſt thou let me goe, for here I hope will be reuenged the iniury thou haſt done me. Go thy way to al the Deuils, replied 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 brible and away, but Galaor followed the path that guided to the Caſtle, which in his iudgement was but newly edified, and being come to the gate, he ſaw within a Knight armed mounted on horſebacke, attended on by fiue h • l •• rders, prouided to forbid e • trance into the Caſtle who comming to him, dema • ded if he were the man that abuſed th ••• S •• ire I know not, anſwered 〈◊〉 whether he be your S •… I come by 〈…〉 that eue • I know •… d the Knight of 〈…〉 : but what would you h • u • in this place. Sir, quoth Galaor, I am • ore wounded, and ſeeke for one to giue me helpe. Enter then, ſaid the Knight. Galaor rode in, but preſently the Knight & his ſouldiers very fiercely aſſailed him, •• t the firſt that came before h •… , •… king to ſtrike at his head with 〈…〉 , was folowed ſo nee • , as Gal ••• ſnatched his weapon out of his hand, giuing the Knight ſuch a wound therewith, that he fell down dead. Then entring among the other, he gaue them ſo many rough and ſharpe charges, as in the end three of them were ſl • ne outright, the other two ſted ſo faſt as they could •… to the Caſtle▪ and Galaor would haue purſued them, but that his Squire cryed to him. My Lord take your Armes, for within mee thinkes I heare a great •… our of people, my ſelfe will take this hatchet to aſſiſt if ye ſtand in need: and although I am vnworthy the order of Chiualry, yet will I defend my Lord to my vttermoſt ha •… he downe the hat •… alberd and a 〈◊〉 belonging to one of them that were ſlaine. Aſſure thy ſelfe, anſwered Galaor, ſo ſoone as I finde him that gaue me Knight-hood, thou ſhalt for thy forwardnes likewiſe haue thine. So paſſing further, they ſaw two other armed Knights come forth, and ten Soulders with them, who were brought out at the gate by the other that fled away. Now was the Squire that conducted Galaor to this Caſtle, ſtanding ſhewing himſelfe at one of the caſements, and he cryed aloude to this freſh ſupply. Kill him, kill him, but ſaue his horſe to do me ſeruice. Galaor looking vp, preſently knew him, at whoſe words his heart was ſo enraged, that he fiercely ran to meete the new • ſſ •… lants in which encounter their Launces brake, eſpecially Galaor on him that gaue the firſt charge, as he made him ſure enough from euer bearing armes afterward. The ſetting hand to ſword aduanced himſelfe to the other, deliuering him ſo ſound a greeting, that he tumbled from his horſe with his heeles vpward: and turning to the halberders on foot, he ſaw his Squire had diſpatched two of them, wherefore to harten him the more, he thus cried to him. My friend thou haſt begun very well, not one of the reſt ſhall eſcape vs, becauſe ſuch villaines are vnworthy to • ue. Whē the Squire that was in the windowe ſaw this bloudy conflict, he haſtely ranne vp a ladder into a high Tower, crying out ſo loud as he could in this manner. My Lord arme your ſelfe vnleſſe you meane to be ſl • ine. By chance Galaor vnderſtood him, whereupon he ſtepped aſide to behold what ſhould enſue, whē preſently he ſaw a Knight come forth armed, and one bringing a horſe for him ready to mount: but Galaor ſtepping betweene, laid hand on the bridle, giuing theſe ſpeeches to the Knight. Another time Sir, learne to mount your horſe ſooner, for I haue occaſiō to vſe this horſe, & mean to keep him til you can get him from me. Greatly aſtonied was the knight when he heard him, becauſe all this while he had not ſeen him, whrefore he returend this anſwer. Are you he that haue ſlaine my two Nephewes, & the other heere in the Caſtle? I know not who you aske for, replied Galaor, but this I can aſſure ye how I found here the moſt diſloyall & bad minded people, that euer I delt withal. I tel thee, ſaid the Knight, they whō thou haſt ſlaine were better then thou art, & deerely ſhalt thou pay for thy boldenes. Heerewith they began a fierce and cruell combate on foot, for the Knight of the Caſtle was a man of great valour, and ſuch as had ſeene this dangerous fight, would haue maruailed that they could endure halfe ſo many blows. Yet in the end, the Knight found himſelfe too weake for Galaor, wherefore he thought to ſaue him-ſelfe by flight: but he was followed ſo neere, as hauing entred a porch, he was conſtrained to leap out at a window, and falling on a great heape of ſtones, with weight of his armour brake his neck. When Galaor ſaw his deſparate end, hee returned backe curſing the Caſtle & the wicked inhabitants, and paſſing by a chamber, he heard a very dol • full voice crying. Ah my Lord, leaue me not to ſuffer any more. Galaor ſtepping neere, ſaid. Open the dore then. Ah Sir, I cannot, anſwered the voice, for I am tied with a ſtrong chaine. By theſe words, Galaor knew well it was ſome priſoner, wherefore he ranne againſt the dore with his foote ſo ſtrongly, that he made it flye from off the hindges, & entring, beheld a faire Damoſell tied by the neck with a great chaine, who thus ſpake to Galaor. Alas my Lord, what is become of the maiſter of this Caſtle and his company? 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 doe more harme to any liuing body. Heauen be praiſed, anſwered the Damoſell, for your happy ſucceſſe, and leaue me not in this miſery, for being deliuered, right ſoone ſhall I make whole and found your wounds. Preſētly did Galaor breake the chaine, and the Damoſel tooke out of acofer two little bottles, with other pretious things belonging to the Lord of the Caſtle, and ſo came downe together into the Court: where Galaor perceiued how the firſt Knight hee • ouſted withall was not yet dead, but trauailing to his end, wherefore to let him languiſh no longer, he ſo trapled on his breſt with his horſe feete, as quickly his ſoule forſooke the body, afterward they rode away deuiſing on many matters.

This Damoſell was wiſe, well gouerned, & of good grace, whereby ſhe could ſo queintly anſwer & intreate Galaor, that he became highly enamoured of her: and being able to endure no longer this kindled fire of affection, thought good to make ſome proofe if ſhee would loue him, whereupon hee thus began. You know (faire Damoſell and my friend) that I haue deliuered you from priſon, but in giuing you liberty, 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 verie difficult, wherein I would not obey you, ſtanding ſo deepely bounden to you as I do: for otherwiſe I might be reckoned among the moſt ingratefull women of the world, conſidering the miſery you ſo lately deliuered me from, and therefore doe I remaine at your diſpoſition. In theſe familiar conferences they proceeded ſo far, as the execution of this hotte loue ſoone after followed, taſting together the b •… fi • of ſuch content, as other may do the like that haue ſo good fortune: & thus merily they paſſe night, in the Pauilion of certaine Hunturs they met with •… e Forreſt. So Galaor receiued by this Damoſell, eaſe of his new wound loue had made, & cure of the other he got in fight.

For certain daies they remained in this wood, during which time the 〈◊〉 told him, how ſhe was daughter to Thelois the Fleming, not long ſi • ce County of Clare by the gift of King Liſuert, and a Lady whom he had often entreated as his friend. But one day, quoth ſhe, being with my mother in a M • naſtry not far hence, the Lord of this Caſtle (whom you haue ſl • ine) dema • ded me in mariage, and becauſe my parents miſliked thereof, by reaſon of his vngracious behauiour: he watched a day when I was ſporting among other Damoſels, from whom he forcibly caried me away, furiouſly thruſting me into the priſon where ye found me, ſaying. Be well aſſured Damoſell, that ſeeing thou haſt diſ • ained to match with me in mariage, and made ſo little account of my great renowne: while thou liueſt thou ſhalt not depart hence, til thy mother and the reſt of thy kindred come entreate me to take thee as my w • fe. Perceiuing how ſeuerely he was bent againſt me, I ſet downe my reſt on patient hope, thinking it better for a time to endure that captiuity, then by making him my husband ſuffer a worſe. Great reaſon had ye therein, 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 yee, quoth ſhe, conduct me to the Monaſterie from whence I was taken, for my mother is there, who will be right ioyfull to ſee me at liberty. With all my heart, replied Galaor: ſo mounting on horſeback, about Sun ſetting they arriued at the monaſterie, where they were receiued with great ioy, eſpecially when the Damoſell had declared his worthy deeds of Chiualry done for her: and albeit he determined a ſpeedy departure, yet at the requeſt of the faire ſiſters, he taried there longer then before he intended. Heere pauſed the Author on this matter, to tell ye what happened to the Prince Agraies, ſince his returne frō the warres in Gaule.

CHAP. XVII.

What were the aduenturs of the Prince Agraies, ſince his returne from Gaule, where he left Amadis.

AGraies returned from his enterpriſe in Gaule, after Amadis had vanquiſhed king Abies of Ireland, and was knowne to his father and mother as you haue heard: addreſſed his iourney toward Norway, where be hoped to finde his Lady Oliuia. Riding one day along ſomewhat neere the ſea ſide, on a ſudden hee had a Hart in chaſe, which when he had ſome prittie while purſued, he gained at length the top of a mountaine, from whence he might eaſily deſerne the raging bellowes of the ſea. Suddenly aroſe an exceeding great tempeſt, which with mighty windes ſo troubled the water, and the thunder ratled with ſuch violence, as if heauen and the neather religion would haue met together. At length he eſpied a ſhip toſſed in the tempeſt, vnterly deſtitute of any ſafety, and (which was worſe) ſubiect to the mercy of a darke comfertleſſe night inſuing: wherewith he being moued to pittie, commanded his Squires (as a ſignall) to make certaine blazes of fire, that they in the ſhip might chuſe their beſt lading place, without periſhing in the darke, him-ſelfe minding to ſtay to ſee the end: which happened ſo well, by the helpe of God and dilligence of the mariners, as the ſhip tooke ſafe harbour nere where Agraies was, when they landed certaine Ladies, who were greatly affrighted with the maruailous tempaſt, thinking they could not haue eſcaped ſo long, Agraies being one of the moſt courteous Princes in the world, ſeeing them ſo well landed and free from danger, ſent one of his Squires, to will them come and refreſh themſelues in his pauillion: which gentlenes they refuſed not, and becauſe he was loth to be troubleſome to them; knowing they had now neede of nothing more then reſt, he concluded this night not to ſee them, keeping himſelfe cloſe in his chāber. The Ladyes being ſeperated to their owne cōtentmēt, the mariners made great fiers on the ſhoare to dry their garmēts, 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 to remoue his affection from where it was ſetled: priuily pried in to behold their countenances, they being round ſet about a fiere, reciting to each 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 affectiō to him, that they might well be tearmed happy in their loue. No ſooner had Agraies eſpied her, but he was ſo ouercome therewith, as being no longer able to diſſemble, hauing before his eyes her ſo late perill of ſhip-wracke, he breathed forth a vehement ſigh, ſaying. Ah diuine comfort, helpe me. When the Ladies heard this cry, eſpecially Oliuia, thinking ſome one of their company was not well, commanded her women to open the dore: which preſently they did, when Agraies told one of thē who he was, that ſhee might ſecretly imparte the ſame to her miſtreſſe, the news whereof were ſo welcome to her, as immediatly ſhe commanded him to enter. Then were embracings & kiſſings freely entercourſed, with al other gracious fauours ſo kind louers could deuiſe, euen the very point wherein loue triumpheth: ſo that the faire Princeſſe loſt the name of a maiden, with like conte •… ▪ as other who haue aſſaied, and can more then imagine what I meane. So pleaſing was this happy meeting, as they ſoiourned there ſix dayes together, beguiling the tune with reciptocall courteſies, yet ſo ſecretly, as none in the company (except her Damoſels) perceiued.

Meane while the ſea became nauigable, the weather faire, and the waters calm: which made the Princeſſe determine to goe aboord her ſhip, that ſhe might paſſe into great Brittaine, whither the King her father had ſent her, to be nouriſhed by the Queene Briſena. Which being vnderſtood by Agraies, after he had acquainted her with the cauſe of his iourney, hee gaue her aſſurāce: that very ſhortly he would come to her, as well to ſhew her his faithfull ſeruice, as alſo to ſeeke his coſin Amadis in king Liſuarts Court, according as hee made him promiſe; wherewith ſhe was not a little contented, deſiring him earneſtly not to tary long frō her. Thus courteouſly taking leaue of each other, the Princeſſe Oliuia departed vnder ſayle, and in fewe dayes after they landed in great Brittaine, when comming to Windſore, where King Liſuart kept his Court: both by him, the Queene, Oriana, and all the other Ladyes, was the Princeſſe and her trayne graciouſly welcommed, as well to honor the King her father, as alſo in reſpect of her excellent beauty.

Now remained Agraies on the ſea ſhore, giuing many a long look after the ſhip which caried away the iewell of his heart; 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 Vncle Gaiuanes Without land, in whoſe company he intended ſhortly to viſit King Liſuarts Court. For there, quoth hee 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 ſlenderly follow Armes. This Galuanes was of gentle heart and 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 horſe & armour, ech one likewiſe a Squire attēding on him. Hauing wind at wil, in ſhort time they landed at Briſtow, where they made no long aboad, but riding through a Forreſt, they met a Damoſell who demāded of them, if that way would conduct her to the Rock of Galteres. No, quoth they, but tell vs Damoſell why you trauaile thither? To ſee if I can finde the good Knight, ſayd ſhee, who knoweth how to remedy a griefe I endure at this preſēt. You abuſe your ſelfe Damoſell, anſwered Agraies, for at the Rock you demanded, you ſhal finde no other Knight then the great Gyant Albadan, to whom if you bring any cauſe of ſorow, he wil quickly double it on your own head. If you knew ſo much as I doe, quoth the Damoſell, you would not imagine me to be abuſed: becauſe the Knight I aske for, hath vanquiſhed the Gyant, and killed him in battaile hand to hand. Beleeue me virgin, replied Galuanes, you tell vs matter of great maruaile, in reſpect neuer any Knight dealt alone with a Gyant, vnleſſe it was King Abies of Ireland, who combated with one, himſelfe 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 ſpeeches, to any likely-hood, for this Gyant ſurpaſſeth all other in ſtrength & cruelty. Gentleman, anſwered the Damoſell, the Knight I ſpeake of hath done no leſſe then I told ye: wherewith ſhe 〈◊〉 the whole manner thereof; they reputing it ſtrange, and almoſt incredible which cauſed Agraies to aske her, if ſhe knew the Knights name. His name (quoth ſhe) is Galaor, ſon to King Perion of Gaule. Ah Lady, ſaid Agraies, you declare the only newes of the world to content me withal, naming my Coſin, who more commonly was reputed dead then liuing. Hereupon he reported to Galuanes, what he had heard concerning Galaor, how he was taken away by the Gyant, and till this inſtant he neuer heard of him. By my faith, anſwered Galuanes, the life of him and his brother is miraculous, 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 ayde on the behalfe of a Damoſell, who is impriſoned by the accuſation of a Dwarffe, the moſt villainous creature that euer was born: hereto ſhe added the whole diſcourſe of Galaor and the Dwarffe, as hath beene already declared to you, yet ſhe cōcealed the louely pranck of Aldena. And becauſe Sir, ſayde 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 griefe to the other Ladyes, doubting leaſt ſhee through feare of death will accuſe ſome of them, and tell withall to what end Galaor came into the Dukes Caſtle: more-ouer, of the ten dayes, foure are already expired. Seeing it falleth out ſo, anſwered Agraies, you neede trauaile no further, for we will performe what Galaor ſhould doe, if not in ſtrength, yet in good will, and therefore be you our guide to the place. The Damoſel turned her haqueney, and led them with ſuch ſpeede to the Dukes Caſtle, that they arriued there the day before the execution ſhould be. Now was the Duke ſet down to dinner, when the two Knights entring the great hall, humbly ſaluted him, & when he ſaw them, he requeſted they would ſit downe to dinner with him: but they anſwered, that hee ſhould preſently know the cauſe of their comming, where-upon, Galuanes thus began. My Lord, you detaine a Damoſell priſoner, by the falſe and diſloyall accuſation of a traiterous Dwarffe; we deſire that ſhe may be deliuered▪ ſeeing ſhe hath no way miſ-done: and if it be needfull to proue her innocency by battaile, let come two other to maintaine the quarrell, for we are ready as her defēders. Wel haue you ſayd, replyed the Duke: and calling for the Dwarffe, thus ſpake to him. What anſwereſt thou to theſe Knights challenge, who ſay that falſely thou haſt cauſed me to impriſon the Damoſell, and will proue it againſt thee in open battaile? it behoueth thee to find ſome defence for thy ſelfe. For that I am not to ſeek my Lord, quoth the Dwarffe, I haue ſuch on my behalfe, who ſhall make known the truth of what I haue ſaid. Here-with he called a frollick Knight his Nephew, ſo like him in pitch and proportion, as one would haue thought he had no other father, to him he ſayd. I pray ye Nephew maintain my quarrell againſt theſe two Knights. Scarſe had he thus ſpoken, but his Nephew returned this anſwer to Galuanes and his companion. Well Gentlemen, what will you ſay againſt this loyal Dwarffe, who was ſo iniured by the Knight the falſe Damoſell brought hither? 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, & the Damoſell ought to dy, becauſe ſhe brought him into my Lord the Dukes Chamber. Agraies who found himſelfe moſt touched in his owne conceite, ſtepped forth with this anſwer. In ſooth, neither of vs is the man, albeit we deſire to imitate his vertues, but wee auouch he hath done no wrong, & if the Duke pleaſe, this difference ſhall be ſoone decided: for on his behalfe will I maintaine, that the damoſel ought to be deliuered, & the Dwarfe in her ſtead burned as a traiterous villaine. I iuſtifie the cō trary, replied the Dwarffes Champion: then calling for his armour, full ſoone was he mounted on a gentle Courſer, and turning to Agraies who preſented him the Cō bare, thus ſpake. Would God Knight thou wert the man by whō this quarrell begā, too high a price ſhould I ſet on thy folly. We ſhall quickly ſee, quoth Agraies, what thou canſt doe, but I am 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 reaſō then do I leaue thee to iudge, how notably he would handle thee in this, conſiſting on truth and equitie. While theſe menaces thus paſſed on either ſide, the Duke ſtirred not from the table till dinner was done, when ſeeing the Knights prepared to execute their ſpeeches, he conducted them with a braue company of Gentlemen, to the place apointed to end ſuch controuerſies, where all accuſtomed ceremonies being obſerued, the Duke thus ſpake to Agraies. Performe the vttermoſt of your habilitie, yet ſhall not the Damoſel be deliuered: for to the Dwarffe hath not been 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: wherefore if my fortune make mee Conquerour, you ought by good reaſon to deliuer her. I haue tolde you what I meane to doe, ſaid the Duke, and otherwiſe it ſhall not be. Agraies tarrying for no more wordes, turned his horſe, running a braue carrire againſt the Dwarfes Knight, and in the encounter brake their ſtaues gallantly, meeting likewiſe ſo furiouſly with their bodies, as they were both laide along on the ground: yet quickly they recouered themſelues, and vnſheathing their weapons, deliuered fierce and cruell ſtrokes to each other; their Swordes being verie ſharpe, the Knights valiant and hautily diſpoſed, by means where-of, their Armour, Helmets and ſheeldes, were in ſhort time made of ſlender reſiſtance: yet Galuanes well ſaw, how his Nephew had ſtil the better of his enemy; if then he had before eſteemed him a good Knight, farre greater reaſon had he ſo to doe▪ notwithſtanding, hee was ſo hot and vigorous, as often-times he ſeemed out of breath, which made euery one imagine (regarding his violence) that hee could not long endure. But in him it proued farre otherwiſe, for the longer the Combate endured, his courage and ſtrength the more increaſed, by reaſon whereof he became the Conquerour, as ſhall hereafter be declared. The Nephew to the Dwarffe found him-ſelfe ſo hardly handled, as he drew back a little, thus ſpeaking to Agraies. Me-thinkes Sir Knight wee haue made proofe enough, of what we are able to performe in theſe affaires, wherefore I am of the opinion, that he whoſe quarrell I vndertake, & the other for whom you entred fight, are not faulty in any thing wherewith they are charged; otherwiſe our combate could not thus long haue endured, but victory wold fal to one of vs. Wel haſt thou ſayd, anſwered Agraies, that the 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 own mouth thou cōfeſſe as much: defend thy ſelfe therefore better then thou haſt done. Theſe angry wordes did ſomewhat eleuate the Dwarffes Knights courage, but he had loſt ſo much bloud, that he was no longer able to holde out; by meanes whereof Agraies took his pleaſure on him, becauſe the other did nothing but defend his ſtrokes which when the Duke beheld, by reaſon he fauoured him, he was highly diſpleaſed, and to ſhun the ſight of his death, departed toward his Caſtle, ſwearing thence forward to worke reuenge for him on all Knights errant, by doing then: all the ſhame he could poſſibly deuiſe. He being in this furie ſpake ſo loude, as Galuanes ouerheard him, wherefore he thus anſwered Duke thou dooſt enterpriſe a great war, eſpecially againſt ſuch as are known to more worthy Lords thē thou art, ſeeking thus to ſmother vp the blame of others. As thus he contended with the Duke, the Dwarffes champion fell at Agraies feete, who immediatly ſnatching off his Helmet, caught him by the head, giuing him many blowes with the hil • s of his Sword on the face, ſaying: Confeſſe the diſloyalty of the Dwarffe, otherwiſe thy life is at an end. Ah gentle Knight, quoth he, giue me my life, for I truely confeſſe, that hee who you fight for is vertuous and loyall, & promiſe withall to gaine the Da moſels releaſe from impriſōment but for Gods ſake I deſire ye, let me not reprooue the Dwarffe mine Vnckle with treaſon. Theſe words were by all the aſſiſtance eaſily vnderſtood, which mouing Agraies to pit •• e, he thus anſwered: For the Dwarffe I will do nothing, but for you being a good Knight, I grant the fauour of your diſcharge: prouided that you labour to your vttermoſt for the Damoſels releaſe from priſon, according as you haue faithfully promiſed.

All this while the Duke heard none of theſe words, becauſe hee was gone ſomewhat further off: but Galuanes laid hold on his horſe bridle, ſaying: By God (Duke) you ſhall not departe hence, vntill you haue ſeene he extreamity of your Champion: for he is either dead or vanquiſhed; what anſwer then make ye concerning the Damoſels right, & the treacherous iniury offered her by the Dwarfe? What? ſaide the Duke, thinkeſt thou I will breake mine oath, or do any otherwiſe then I haue determined? I know not, quoth Galuanes, what concluſion you haue appointed. Mary this, replied the duke, that ſhe ſh •• be to morrow morning burn'd, if ſhe tell not what moued her, to cauſe the Knight come hither whō ſhe conducted. Why? quoth Galuanes, will ye not then deliuer her? No, ſaid the Duke, and if thou prouide not for thy ſpeedy departure out of my Country, thou ſhalt well know that thou haſt diſpleaſed me. Is it true? anſwered Galuanes, doe ye threaten me contrarie to all equity, and will not diſcharge the Damoſell ſo honourably iuſtified? By heauen henceforth I defie thee, as well on mine own behalfe, as all other Knights errant whatſoeuer. Very well, quoth the Duke, the like do I to thee, and al ſuch as thou reſembleſt. So went the Duke into his Caſtle, and Galuanes returned in an exceeding chafe to Agraies, but reioycing at his Nephewes glorious victory, he ſomewhat quallified his angry choller: yet did he tel him all the Dukes menaces, and what defiance had paſſed on either ſide, wherewith Agraies was very much moued, chiefely for the wrong he threatned to the Damoſell; whereupon he thus replied: In ſooth my Lord and Vncle, it is againſt all reaſon, that ſuch a pa • liard as the Duke, poſſeſſed of ſo great a ſignorie, ſhould cary ſo vile and bad a minde. Hauing thus ſpoken, he called for his horſe, which being brought him, he moūted thereon, ſpeaking thus to the vanquiſhed Knight: My friend remember your promiſe, & accompliſh it ſo ſoon as you can, that the Damoſell may be releaſed from her impriſonment. In good faith, quoth he, I will performe my vttermoſt hability therein. So rode away Agraies and Galuanes toward the Forreſt of Arinida, where whē they entred, Galuanes thus began: You know Nephew, that I haue defied the Duke, in reſpect of the iniurie 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 eaſily take him or ſome of his. I promiſe ye, ſaide Agaies, I like well your counſell: wherefore without paſſing any further, they made choyce of a little thicket, where they alighted, ſending their Squires to the Towne to prouide them victuals.

On the other ſide, the Duke (as you haue heard) being with-drawn to his Caſtle, grewe into ſuch diſpleaſure againſt the Damoſel, as he thought preſently to ſend her to the fire: where-upon he called for her, & willed her for to haue minde of her ſoule, becauſe the next morning ſhee ſhould bee burned, if quickly ſhe declared not the truth of the Knight: but all theſe threatnings could not drawe one word from her. Now becauſe the vanquiſhed Knight had promiſed Agraies, to labour for her deliuerāce to the Duke, ſo ſoone as hee returned from the field, hee came and fell on his knees before the Duke: beſeeching him moſt inſtantly to graunt, what he had promiſed on the Ladies behalfe. But the Duke by all meanes excuſed the matter, ſaying, he had ſollemnely vowed ſhe ſhould dye, if ſhe reuealed not the thing he was deſirous to know. Therefore (quoth he) I will rather conſent to the ruine of my whole Eſtate, then in one iotte to the breach of my oath. In this manner was the Knight denyed and the next morning, very earely he ſent for the Damoſell, to whom hee ſpake thus as followeth.

Thou lewd and diſobedient woman, now make choice of the fire, or reſolue me in the matter I haue demanded, for one of them thou muſt doe. My Lord, quoth ſhee, you may appoint what you thinke good; but if I die in this manner, it will be againſt all law and reaſon. Preſently he committed her to two Sergeants at Armes, accompanied with ten Knights well prouided for their defence: and for the more ſuretie that ſhee ſhould not be reſcued, himſelfe mounted in perſon on a goodly great horſe; then leauing the towne, along they ride thorow the fieldes by the Forreſt ſide, and being come to the place prepared for execution, he commanded foorth-with ſhe ſhould be throwne into the fire, ſaying: Let the ſtubborne Strumpet die in her obſtinacie. But Agraies and Galuanes being ready armed to aduenture their fortune, diſcerned when the troupe came from the towne toward the forreſt; wherefore without longer tarying, (hauing giuen expreſſe charge to one of their Squires, to haue a ſpeciall care of the Damoſels ſafety) ſlyly left their ambuſh, beholding the poore maiden readie for the fire; when ſhee perceiuing her preſent daunger, cryed to the Duke, that ſhe would tell what he deſired, onely to delay the time of her death. The Duke beleeuing ſhee intended as ſhe ſayd, came to her; when ſuddenly he eſpied Agraies and Galuanes gallopping toward him, calling ſo lowd that hee might eaſily heare them; Duke, now ſhalt thou be forced to deliuer the Damoſel. At theſe words were all the Dukes Knights greatly aſtoniſhed, yet prepared they for their owne defence, where-upon began between them a fierce and cruel fight. Now though Agraies and Galuanes were alone againſt ſo many, yet did they ſo brauely behaue themſelues, as at the firſt on ſet they quailed the greater part of them, before they could deuiſe which way to turne themſelues: wherea • the Duke was ſo amazed, that fearing his owne death was neere at hand, he with-drew himſelfe behind his men; yet Caluanes perceiued it, wherefore he cryed to him: Trayterous Duke, This day thou beginneſt to feele the warre thou didſt enterpriſe againſt Knights errant: then ruſhing through the preaſſe, hee minded to charge the Duke, but he retyred aſide, willing his Knights to kill their enemies horſes, which they on foote might eaſily compaſſe. In briefe, theſe two Champions ſhewed ſuch chiualrie on their foot-men, as they were vanquiſhed and driuen to flight, the moſt of them ſo cruelly wounded, that they were ſcant able to keepe themſelues on horſe-backe in their eſcaping away: and the Duke who was better mounted then any of them, made ſuch haſte, as hee brought the firſt newes hereof to the towne, being eagerly purſued awhile by Galuanes: but when hee ſaw it was in vaine, he returned to the Forreſt where hee found his Nephew and the Squires with the Damoſell.

Such was the reſcue of the poore mayden, & ſhamefull foyle of the Duke, who being arriued at the Towne, cauſed with all ſpeed a great number to arme them-ſelues, returning to the Forreſt to reuenge their 〈◊◊〉 , thinking to finde the Knights there as yet, but they were diſlodged: wherefore •… ling of their purpoſe, they diſperſed themſelues in ſeuerall troupes, by fiue and fiue in a company to • ecke them, the Duke likewiſe (being one in the ſearch) haiug foure of the beſt knights hee could make choyce off. And as they rode along in a valley, he eſp • ed the Knights conducting the Damoſell, wherefore hee ſayd to his men: Behold (my Friends) the Traytours wee haue to deale withall, let vs ſet on them before they get leyſure to eſcape: for if they gaine but a ſight of vs, they will run away faſter then euer wee did. But Galuanes eſpyed them ere they came neere, and ſhewed them to his Nephew Agraies, who hee thought was ouer-wearyed with the laſt aſſault, which made him ſay: Wee already haue felt what theſe villa •• es can doe, but now muſt we warily defend our ſelues, that we may be no more followed in this 〈◊〉 . I know the Duke to be he comes •… moſt, if good h • p be • ail vs, I hope he ſhall haue his payment firſt of all: be now (good Nephew) mindfull of your wonted courage, hauing paſſed through greater dangers then this can bee. Why 〈◊〉 ? quoth Agraies, in time of perill doe you thinke I wil forget my ſ • ite? eſpecially being in your companie? Dreame of no ſuch matter I pray yee, but let vs ſerue theſe as we did their companions. By time hee had thus ſpoken, the Duke gaue the ſpurres to his horſe, and comming neere them ſayd: I am ſorry (villaines) you ſhould dye ſo honourably, but afterward I meane to hang yee by the heeles on the toppes of theſe trees. Galuanes and Agraies buckled cloſe with them, ſhewing how much they deſpiſed ſuch ſhamefull buriall: on the other ſide, the Duke and his knights ſtucke to it cloſely, eſpecially himſelfe, to whom Agraies came, and angerly reached him ſuch a blow with his ſword, beneath the ſight of his helmet as quite cut away the noſt •• ils from his face. The Duke imagining himſelfe wounded to the death, turned his backe and fled, Agraies following him, but ſeeing he could not ouer-take him, hee commended him to all the deuils, returning to ſuccour Galuanes, whom the other foure had very ſore laboured, yet did he hold out ſo courageouſly, as none of them durſt come neere him; for one was tumbled head-long from his horſe not ſhewing any motion of life was left in him. Agraies being 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 weake to vphold the honour of the vanquiſhed, and therefore truſted to the ſpeede 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 benefit, & returned where the Damoſell attended for them, of whom they demanded, if any Towne or place of lodging were neere. Gentlemen, quoth ſhee, I know the dwelling of a Knight hard by, named Oliuas, who is a mortall enemie to the Duke, by reaſon he ſlew a coſin of his, which makes me thinke he will the better welcome vs. Be you our guide thither, ſaid Galuanes, and ſo ſhe was, they being very kindly entertained there, eſpecially when he knew what had happened. On the morrow they tooke their leaue of Oliuas, but calling them aſide, he thus ſpake. Gentlemen, the Duke treacherouſly killed a coſin germaine of mine, who was a good Knight, wherefore I am determined to accuſe and combate with him before King Liſuart. Now ſince I vnderſtand you are Knights errant, and ſuch as know how, or elſe your ſelues can redreſſe the wrongs offered to the vnable, yea, by them who (without care of God or their honor) durſt proceed ſo farre. In ſooth, anſwered Galudnes, you are deepely bound to proſecute the murder, being committed in ſuch ſhamefull manner, & we will aſſiſt ye in your quarrel on ſo iuſt a cauſe: if the Duke wil 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 defiance. Moſt heartliy I thank ye, replied the Knight, and for this cauſe I will goe with yee if you pleaſe. Content quoth they. Here-upon Oliuas armed himſelfe, and ſo they rode together to Windſore, where they had good hope to find King Liſuart.

CHAP. XVIII.

How Amadis tarying with his good will in the Court of King Liſuart, heard t • dings of his brother Galaor.

BY the diſcourſe paſt you haue vnderſtood how Amadis (after he had in open field foyled & ouer-come the audacious proud Dardan) was ſtayed in King Liſuart Court by the Ladies requeſt, expreſſely to be the Queenes Knight: his entertainment by the King, fauour and manifolde other courteſies, you haue likewiſe heard. It now came ſo to paſſe, that as he was one day among the Ladyes, a Damoſel entred the Queenes Chamber, who falling on her knees before the Queene, ſaid. Madame, is not a Knight heere that beareth azured Lyons in his Armes? The Queene 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 deeds of Armes ſo rarely as euer did any. You ſpeake very much, anſwered the Queene, but you perhaps being acquainted with none but him, thinke therefore he is beyond all other. It may be ſo, replied the Damoſell, yet when you vnderſtand what he hath accompliſhed, I thinke your ſelfe will agree to my ſaying. I pray ye then, quoth the Queene, tell vs what he is. When I ſee the good Knight, anſwered the Damoſell, hee who carryeth ſuch eſtimation from all other: I will tell him in your preſence, and other new • which I am charged to acquaint him withall. The Queene was now more deſirous to know him then before, wherefore ſhewing her Amadis, ſhe ſayd: See here (Damoſell) the man you aske for. Madame, quoth ſhe, in reſpect you ſpeake it, I beleeue it, for a Queene of ſuch ſtate as you are, is free from beguiling: then comming to Amadis, ſhe thus proceeded. My Lord, the young Gentle-man whom not long ſince you Knighted before the caſtle of Bradoid, when you vanquiſhed the two Knights on the bridge, and the other on the cawſey, where you took the Maiſter thereof priſoner, and deliuered by force of armes the friend to Vrganda: moſt humbly ſaluteth you by me, being the man whom he reputeth as his Lord, & giueth you to know, how he endeuoureth to reach the height of honor, which he will attaine, or dye in the attempt: likewiſe when he ſhall performe ſome-what worthy the name of Chiualrie, he will acquaint you with more then yet you know, vntill which time hee ſhrowds it in ſilence. Amadis ſoon remembered ſhe ſpake of his brother, wherefore with ioy the teares dewed his cheekes, and the Ladies well noting this alteration, maruailed thereat, eſpecially Oriana: who (as you haue heard heereto-fore) was grounded in ſuch affection toward him, as ſhe was well neer depriued of power to diſſemble it. In meane while, the Queene deſirous to heare what deedes of proweſſe the new Knight had performed, ſayd to the Damoſell, I pray ye continue your meſſage, & tell vs the braue beginning of chi • alrie you ſpeake of. Madame, quoth ſhe, the firſt place where he made proofe of himſelfe, was at the Rock of Galteres, where hee combated with the great and terrible Gyant Alb •… , whome (in open field hand to hand) he euercame and ſlew: hereto 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 Queene: who demanded of the Damoſell, if ſhee knew whither 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 ſeeke him, becauſe ſhe was deſirous to know him; at which time he went with her, & ſince I neuer ſaw him. What thinke you heere of Sir Amadis? ſayd the Queene, do not you know of whence he is? Yes truely. Madame, anſwered Amadis, although I can ſay but little herein: I thinke he be mine owne brother, for ſo Vrganda not long ſince aſſured me, Doubtleſſe, quoth the Queene, the fortune of you both is admirable, & I maruaile how you could come to the knowledge of your Parents, or they of you? yet would I be glad to ſee that Knight in the Kings ſeruice. While theft ſpeeches endured, Oriana who ſate farre from the Queene, and heard none of theſe newes, was in ſuch greefe to ſee Amadis ſhed teares, as being vnable to conceale the ſame, ſhe ſayd to Mabila: I pray ye (faire friend) call your coſin Amadis, that we may know what hath happened to cauſe him mourne. Mabila made a ſigne to Amadis to come, and when he was with them. Oriana ſhewing her ſelfe ſome-what griened, thus began. Sir Amadis, it may full well be ſayd, that by ſome Lady you are now moued to pittie, I pray ye tell vs what ſhe is, and from whence this Damoſell brought you theſe tydings. Amadis quickely perceiued his Miſtreſſes diſeaſe, wherefore hee declared all that the Damoſell told the Queene: which appeaſed the iealouſie of her hote Louer, and made this ſhew more amiable conntenance, thus ſpeaking to Amadis. Alas, my Lord, I muſt intreat you to pardon the fault, raiſed onely by falſe 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 goe ſeeke 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. Beleeue mee, anſwered Oriana, I would gladly wiſh ſo good a knight in his company, and therfore you ſhal doe well to goe ſeeke him: yet before you depart, acquaint the Queene herewith, that ſhe may imagine, how by her commandement onely, you enterpriſe this iourney. Humbly did Amadis regratiate his Miſtreſſe: and according to her counſell hee went to the Queene, to whom 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 ſhee, I would it might be ſo if it were poſſible. If you will grant me leaue, ſaid Amadis, to goe finde him, I haue no doubt of bringing him hither: otherwiſe I know you ſhall hardly ſee him, till hee haue made himſelfe knowne in many other places. You doe very much for the king, quoth ſhe, if hee doe come; neuertheleſſe, I referre it to your owne diſcretion.

Thus Amadis obtained licence to depart, which hee did very early the next Morning, hauing no other company then Gandalin; and ſpending moſt part of the day ryding through the Forreſt, he ſaw a Lady come toward him, accompanyed with two Damoſels and foure Squires: who weeping very grieuouſly, 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 Ladie, the onely cauſe of my care and penſiueneſſe, my Lord and Husband, who is wounded in ſuch ſort as I feare his death. Amadis aduanced him-ſelfe to behold the man, and lifting vp the couerture of the Litter, ſaw a Knight lye there, of goodly perſonage: but of his face hee could make no iudgement, by reaſon it was cruelly cut and mangled; whereupon hee called to him, ſaying. My friend, who hath thus wronged thee? yet did the Knight make no anſwere; which made him goe to the Lady againe, and aske her the queſtion. Gentle Sir, quoth ſhee, a knight that keepeth a Bridge not farre hence, did it, who as we paſſed by ſayd to my Lord, how hee muſt ſweare whether he were of king Liſuarts court or no: which made my husband demand why he would know. Becauſe, ſaid the knight, no friend of his ſhall paſſe here, 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 my pleaſure: and in deſpight of him, heacefoorth ſhall I ſlay all ſuch as are belonging to him. Becauſe he keepeth a knight that killed the valiant Daodan, for whoſe ſake I meane to deale in ſuch ſort, as the king and his wel-willers ſhall receiue by me infinite diſpleaſures and diſhonours. When my husband heard him, as one agreeued at his villainous ſpeeches, he anſwered. Know thou that I am one of his Court, & his vowed ſeruant, who neither for thee or any other will deny him. Highly diſpleaſed was the knight of the Bridge with this anſwere, and without any more wordes charged my husband, ſo that betweene them grew a cruell combate: but in the end, my Lord was brought into this hard extreamity, and farre more worſe in the knights opinion; for hee reputed him to be ſlaine out-right, cōmanding vs within three dayes to carry him before king Liſuart, to deſpight him withall. Lady, quoth Amadis, I pray you lend me one of your Squires, who can ſhew me the knight when I come where he is: for ſeeing your husband hath been ſo wronged for my ſake, it behoofeth me (more then any other) to re • enge the ſame. What? ſaid the Lady, are you hee for whoſe cauſe he ſo hateth the king? Yea verily, anſwered Amadis, and if my hap prooue ſo good, hee ſhall neuer heereafter abuſe any other. Ah, gentle Knight, quoth ſhee, I will pray for your proſperous ſucceſſe. Afterward ſhee gaue him one of her Squires, and committing him to GOD, rode on with her husband; and Amadis neuer ſtayed till hee came to the Bridge, where hee ſawe the knight playing at Tables with another: but quickly leauing his paſtime, being ready armed, hee mounted on horſe▪ backe, calling for Amadis in this manner. Holla, holla Sirra, I forbid ye to paſſe any further till yee haue ſwome. 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 doe ſo much: but I aſſure thee, I belong to the Queene his wife, euer ſince not long agoe. Since when? replyed the knight. ſince a diſinherited Lady, ſayd Amadis, came hither for her right. But thou art not hee, quoth the knight, that foughteſt the Combate for her? I am the man, anſwered Amadis, who wonne her peace. By my head, ſaid the knight, now ſhalt thou looſe thine, if I can; for thou didſt kill the onely honour of my linage. I killed him not, ſaid Amadis, but made him diſcharge her of his outragious demand, and afterward he became a murtherer of himſelfe. All this cannot profit thee, quoth the knight, for by thee and no other he dyed: now for his ſake, ſhalt thou looſe thy life. Hereupon they gaue the ſpurres to their horſes, and breaking their Lances brauely, met ſo furiouſly with their bodies, as the knight of the Bridge was thrown to the ground; whereof he was not a little aſhamed: but by reaſon the helmet of Amadis was vnlaced in the running, while hee amended it, the knight had leiſure to mount him-ſelfe againe, and to giue his enemie two or three ſtrokes with the ſword, before he had time to draw out his. All which afterward hee very well requited; for ſtriking full at his head, hee brake away the skirts of his helmet, and redoubling his blow, me •• e ſo directly with his necke, as his head hung downe behinde his ſhoulders, his ſoule paſſing to the Author of his pride and cruelty. When his gardants of the bridge ſawe him thus ſlaine, they truſted to their heeles, yet Amadis would not follow thē, but returned to the Squire that cō ducted him thither: willing him to make haſte to his Lady, and let her vnderſtand how he had reuenged her husbands iniurie: which he immediately did, not ſparing the worthy attaints at Sword and Launce, which he had ſeene Amadis beſtow on the Knight of the bridge.

Amadis hauing there no more to do, iſſuing forth of the Forreſt, entred on a large & goodly plaine, brauely beautified with violets, ſweete hearbs, and all other deuiſes of natures tapiſtrie, which preſently prouoked the remembrance of his Oriana: riding on in diuers amorous thoughts, he ſaw come toward him an euill fauoured Dwarffe, on a ſimple Palfrey, whō he called to know from whence he came. My Lord, quoth the dwarfe, I come from the houſe of the coū tie of Claire. Haſt thou not ſeene a young Knight, ſayd Amadis, named Galaor? No truely, anſwered the Dwarffe, but I know where (within three dayes) I can ſhew you the beſt Knight that euer bare Armes in theſe parts. When Amadis heard this, thinking hee had meant his brother, he ſayd: I pray thee my friend 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 whither I ſhall guide ye. The great deſire he had to finde his brother, made him ſoone conſent. Come with me then, quoth the Dwarffe, and I will bring ye where you ſhall behold the good Knight. So rode they on till darke night ouertooke them, which the Dwarffe perceiuing, he ſayd to Amadis, My Lord, hard by is a Caſtle where we may lodge this night, for there is a Lady who will friendly welcome vs. Thither they rode, and had kinde entertainment, 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 perfection of his miſtreſſe. And taking leaue the next morning of their friendly hoſteſſe, continued on their iourney till about mid-day, when they ſaw two Knights fighting againſt one, then Amadis approching to them, ſaid: Gentlemen, may it pleaſe ye to pauſe a while, and tell mee on what occaſion your quarrell ariſeth? At theſe words they ceaſed, & 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 hauty enterpriſe to end. In ſooth, ſayd Amadis, your difference is very ſlender, for the bounty of the one diminiſheth no iot of the other. The Knights perceiuing he ſpake the truth, ended their ſtrife, demanding of Amadis, if hee knew the Knight in King Liſuarts Court, who cōbated for the iniured widdow, whereby the good Knight Dardan was ſlaine. Why aske ye? quoth Amadis. Becauſe, ſaid the Knights, we would gladly meete with him. I know not, anſwered Amadis, whether your meaning be good or bad, yet is it not long ſince I ſaw him in the Court of King Liſuart. Hauing ſo ſayd, he rode on his way, when the three Knights hauing conferred a little together, they began to gallop after him: & he no ſooner heard them, but turned againe; then doubting they inded ſome harme to him, he claſped on his Helmet and his Shield, yet had he no Lance, nor they likewiſe. Alas my Lord, quoth the Dwarffe, what will ye doe? 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 theſe ſpeeches, they came to him in this manner. Sir knight, we would demaund one thing of you, which we deſire ye not to denie, otherwiſe you may not ſo eaſily eſcape vs. The ſooner ſhall I grant it, quoth Amadis, if it bee reaſonable. Tell vs then, as you are a loyall Gentleman, where you imagine we may find him that ſlew Dardan? Hee who could doe no leſſe then ſpeake the trueth, thus replyed. I am hee, albeit I would haue you thinke, that I doe not ſo ſoone fulfill 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 ſee him-ſelfe thus aſſailed, by them whom ere-while he had ſo friendly pacified: reſiſted them with ſuch reſolute courage, as at the firſt ſtroke he ſmote one of their armes from the body, the griefe whereof made him fall beſide his horſe: the ſecōd alſo felt his ſword ſo peizantly, that hee cleft his head to the very teeth, and ſent to keepe his fellow company. When the third beheld their bad ſucceſſe, hee put the ſpurres to his horſe and got him away, but Amadis being not ſo well mounted, let him eſcape, returning to Gandalin and the Dwarffe, who thus ſpake. Credite me my Lord, hence-foorth will I truſt better to your wordes then I did: let vs therefore make haſte hence if you pleaſe. So riding along, at length the Dwarffe ſhewed him in a pleaſant valley two high Pine-trees, neere which was a Knight mounted on a luſtie Courſer, and two other whom not long before hee had vanquiſhed, they running to catch their horſes there ſtrayed about the field. And looking againe, hee eſpied another knight lay leaning on his helmet, hauing his ſhield by him, and twentie Launces reared againſt the Pines, with two ſpare horſes likewiſe ready furniſhed. My Lord, quoth the dwarffe, doe you ſee the Gentleman that leaneth on his Helmet? What then? ſayd Amadis. He is, replyed the Dwarffe, the good Knight I promiſed to ſhew you. Knoweſt thou his name? quoth Amadis. He nameth himſelfe, anſwered the Dwarffe, Angriote diſtranans, and is the beſt knight that I haue heard report of. Tell mee then, ſaid Amadis, why he keepeth there ſo many Launces? I can therein, anſwered the Dwraffe, full well reſolue ye, liſten then a while. He loueth a Ladie 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 happieſt man in the world: but ſhee tolde him, he ſhould wade into no ſuch fond opinion, becauſe hee tooke a yong Ladie againſt her will. And albeit, quoth ſhee, perforce you haue enioyed me, yet while I liue neuer ſhall I loue, ye if you do not performe one thing for me. What Lady anſwered Angriote, is it within compaſſe of my puiſſance? That is it, ſaid ſhe. Cōmand then ſweete 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 enemies, 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 ſhold 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 beautifull thē the Ladyes they loued. And if it ſo fell out, that the brother to Angriote (whome you ſee on horſe-back) were vanquiſhed, and could endure the combate no further: then Angriote ſhould keepe this paſſage alone, during the ſpace of one whole yeere. 〈◊〉 this cauſe they depart not hence all the day time, and at night returne to a Caſtle on the mountaine you ſee at hand: hauing already maintained their enterpriſe three moneths, in all which time Angriote neuer ſet hand to Sword againſt any Knight, becauſe his brother hath ſtil beene conquerour. Truſt me, ſaid Amadis, I beleeue thou ſayeſt true, and ſo I heard in the Court of King Liſuart, where not long ſince a Knight arriued, who confeſſed Angriotes Lady to be more faire then his friend, and me thought he called her name Grouoneſa. Very true, quoth the Dwarffe: but now ſeeing you are reſolued, remember your promiſe to me, and bare mee company as you ſayd you would. With right good will, anſwered Amadis, which is the way? Euen ouer this vale, replied the Dwarffe, but becauſe of this hinderance, as yet I thinke wee ſhall very hardly paſſe. Care not thou for that ſayd Amadis: ſo giuing his horſe the ſpurres, he rode on, and ſoone after he met a Squire, who thus ſpake to him. Go no further Gentleman, if you will not grant the Lady vnder the Pine, to be more beautifull then your Miſtreſſe. Neuer will I yeelde to ſuch a ſlander, replied Amadis, without force or extreame conſtraint. Returne then, ſayd the Squire, otherwiſe you muſt combate with the 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.

CHAP. XIX.

How Amadis combated againſt Angriote and his brother, who guarded the paſſage of the valley, againſt ſuch as would not confeſſe, that their Ladyes were inferiour in beauty to Angriotes choyce.

WHen Angriots brother ſaw him comming, he tooke vp his weapons and met him, ſaying: Beleeue me Knight; you haue committed folly, in not graunting what our Squires gaue you warning of, you muſt therfore enter combate with me. As for the combate, anſwered Amadis, I like it much better, then to confeſſe the greateſt lye in the world. I know well, ſayd the Knight, you muſt do it with diſaduantage in an other place. And truſt me, quoth Amadis, I thinke not ſo. Stand on your owne defence then, replied the Knight: wherewith they gaue the carrire againſt each other, meeting together ſo furiouſly, as the knight was vnhorſſed: yet held he faſt the raines of his bridle, till they brake in his hand, which cauſed him to fall on his necke to the ground, where hee lay without remembrance of himſelfe or any other. Heereupon Amadis alighted, and pulling the Helmet from his head, perceiuing that he was in a ſound, wherefore he buffetted him in ſuch ſorte, as he came to himſelfe againe. Thou art but dead, ſayd Amadis, if thou yeeld not thy ſelfe my priſoner. When the Knight ſaw the naked ſword ouer his head, fearing his death, he yeelded. Then Amadis mounted againe, perceiuing Angriote already on horſe-backe, ready to reuenge his brothers iniurie: and a Squire came to the Prince, bringing him a Launce, which he preſented him withall from Angriote. Soone after they encoūtered ſo galantly, as their Launces flew in pieces without any further harme, and ending their carrire, Amadis quickly drew his ſword, turning to Angriote, who thus ſpake. Make not ſuch haſt (Knight) to combate with the ſword, becauſe thou ſhalt haue time enough for that anon, (this he ſayd, in reſpect he reputed him-ſelfe the beſt at the ſword that might be found:) But I pray thee, quoth he, let vs iuſt till our Launces faile, or one of vs be ſent to the earth. Knight, anſwered Amadis, I haue weighty buſines elſe-where, and may not trifle time with tarrying heere. What? ſaid Angriote, thinkeſt thou to eſcape me ſo light ly? I promiſe thee it is the leaſt part of my thought: yet I pray thee let vs try one courſe more. Amadis was content, and taking ſuch Launces as each of them liked, finiſhed the Iuſt with ſuch violence, as Angriote was caſt downe and his horſe vpon him. Amadis leaping from his ſaddle, ſaw that a ſmall trunchion of a Launce had a little entred his body, yet ſcorning any ſhame ſhould be deſerned on his ſide, fighting for the honor and beauty of his Goddeſſe Oriana: ſnatching forth the trunchion, and marched with his ſword drawne againſt Angriote, who ſeeing him come, ſayd. I ſee Sir Knight thou art very young, and me thinkes before it be worſe with thee, thou wert better to confeſſe my Lady fairrer then thine. Then ſhould I lye very fowlly, anſwered Amadis, and (by my will) I ſhall not diſſent ſo farre from the truth. Theſe ſpeeches enkindled collor on either ſide, which made them charge ech other with ſuch vigour, as not onely they that beheld them, but euen themſelues 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 hee could rather chuſe a thouſand deathes, then ſhe ſhould looſe one iot of her excellence: and this opinion ſtill whetted on his courage, that Angriote was compelled to diuers ſimple ſhifts, to auoyde the fierce aſſaults of his valiant enemy, who had wounded him in twenty ſeuerall places, and he perceiuing his death at hand, ſtepped aſide, thus ſpeaking to Amadis. Beleeue mee Sir Knight, there is more valour in thee then I imagined. Yeelde thy ſelfe, ſayd Amadis, ſo ſhalt thou do wiſely, ſeeing 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 eſteeme of thee better then thou weeneſt. Theſe words he vſed, as well for the braue Chiualrie he noted in Angriote, as alſo the great honeſtie he ſhewed to the Lady in his poſſeſſion: whereupon Angriote returned this anſwer. It is reaſon I ſhould yeeld my ſelfe to the beſt Knight in the world, and the like all other to doe that beare armes: Beleeue me then gentle Knight, I not ſo much ſorrow for my foyle, as the wrackfull chance threatned to me, by looſing this day the onely 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 ſhe acknowledge not your honorable 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 imploy my vttermoſt hability, in cauſing her conſent thereto, ſo ſoone as I ſhall returne from a ſearch I haue now in hand. My Lord, ſayd Angriote, in what place may I hereafter finde you? In the Court of King Liſuart, anſwered Amadis, where (hy Gods helpe) I meane ſhortly to be. So tooke he leaue of Angriote, who gladly would haue had him in his Caſtle, but he might not be hindered of his iourney.

Thus doth Amadis followe the Dwarfe, who guided him fiue daies without any aduenture, ſhewing him at length a meruailous ſtrong and pleaſant Caſtle, ſaying: Sir, within yonder hold you muſt performe the promiſe you made me. And I will doe it for thee, anſwered Amadis, if it confiſt in my power. I am in good hope thereof, quoth the Dwarffe, in reſpect I haue ſeene ſome proofe of your fortune: but know ye Sir how the place is named? No verily, ſayd Amadis, for till now I was neuer in this Country: It is called Valderin, replied the Dwarffe: and thus deuiſing, they came neere the Caſtle, when the Dwarffe willed him to take his Armes. Why? ſaide Amadis, ſhall we haue any ſuch neede? Yea mary, quoth the Dwarffe, for they ſuffer none to come forth 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 ſayd Amadis is not inhabited, where is the requeſt thou ſaidſt I ſhould do for thee? Credit me Sir, ſayd the Dwarffe, I haue ſome-time ſeene heere a moſt braue Knight, and the ſtrongeſt in Chiualrie that euer I ſaw, who in that porch killed two Knights, one of them being my maiſter, him hee put to death very cruelly, without regard of fauour or mercy: In reuenge whereof, I would deſire that traytors head, which I haue long failed in obtaining, becauſe all ſuch as I brought hither, haue loſt their liues or remaine here in captiuity. Thou doeſt the part of a loyall ſeruant, anſwered Amadis: yet oughteſt thou to bring no Knight hither, before thou tell him againſt whom he ſhall fight. My Lord, quoth the Dwarffe, the man is knowne well enough, and reputed for one of the beſt Knights in the world: therefore when I haue named him, I could not meet with any ſo hardy as to reuenge my cauſe. Belike then thou knoweſt his name, ſaid Amadis. Yea my Lord, replied the Dwarffe, he calleth himſelfe Arcalaus the enchanter, Amadis hereupon went further in, looking round about if hee might ſee any body: but all was in vaine, wherefore to reſt his horſe, he ſtaied there till euening, ſaying to the Dwarffe. What wilt thou I ſhall doe now it is ſo late? Alas my Lord, quoth he, the night being ſo neere at hand, me thinkes it were good wee departed hence. Nay truſt me, anſwered Amadis. I wil not budge hence till the knight come, or ſome other that can tell me tidings of him. But I dare not tarry, ſayd the Dwarffe, leaſt Arcalaus chance to know me, and imagine I practiſe the meanes of his death. Yet ſhalt thou beare me cō pany, replied Amadis, as I will not excuſe my ſelfe from the promiſe I haue made thee. As thus they cōmuned, Amadis eſpied a Court ſomewhat more backward, where-into he entred and found no body: but he ſaw a darke place vnderneath, and certaine ſteps leading into the earth. Gandalin got holde on the Dwarffe, who would haue run away, and Amadis tooke great pleaſure to beholde his trembling, ſpeaking thus merily to him. Feare not tall fellow, but let vs go down theſe ſtaires, to ſee who is beneath. My Lord; quoth the Dwarffe, for Gods ſake ſpare me, nothing in the world can make mee goe into ſuch a fearefull place. If thou goe hence, ſaid Amadis, how wilt thou enioy the thing I promiſed thee, or know that I do my indeuour therein? Ah Sir, quoth he, I acquite you, and holde my ſelfe fully ſatisfied. But ſo do not I, anſwered Amadis, becauſe hereafter thou ſhalt not ſay I brake my promiſe. On my faith Sir, ſayd the Dwarffe, I freely diſcharge ye, and if you pleaſe to let me go, I will tarry for you in the way as we came hither. Get thee gone then, replied Amadis, for heere will I abide till to morrow morning attending the Knight.

In this manner the poore dwarfe eſcaped thence, and Amadis went downe the ſtaires, comming into a plaine place ſo darke, that hee could not imagine where he was: yet he proceeded on, and by groping on a wall felt a barre of iron, whereat hung a key which he took, opening therewith a chaine that locked a port-cullis, then heard he a lamentable voyce thus complaining. Ah God, how long ſhall we remaine in this miſerie? ſweete death why ſtayeſt thou from ſuccouring vs, who call to thee as our laſt refuge? Soone after the voyce ceaſed, which made him holde on his way, and enter a vault hauing his ſword and Shield ready: then paſſing further, he came into a great Pallace, at the entrance whereof hung a lampe burning, & ſixe men laide along aſleepe, with their Shields and Hatchets lying by them, the beſt of which he took himſelfe. They not awaking hee went on by them, and ſoone after heard another grieuous lamentation in this manner. Ah God full of pitty and mercy, ſend death if it pleaſe thee to deliuer vs from this hell. Now was Amadis in worſe caſe then before, for one of the ſixe Souldiers ſuddenly awaking, ſayd to his fellow: Ariſe, take theſe rods and make that curſed creature ſing another kinde of ſong, who hath thus diſturbed vs in our ſleepe. Mary and I ſhall, anſwered the other: ſo hee aroſe and tooke the rods, but as he went, he chanced to ſee Amadis before him, whereat he was ſomewhat affraid, yet to be better aſſured, he demanded, who is there? I, quoth Amadis. What art thou? ſaid the other. I am, quoth he, a ſtrange Knight. Who brought thee hither, ſayde the Souldier, without any licence? No body, anſwered Amadis, but my ſelfe alone. The worſe for thee, replied the Souldier, now muſt thou be encloſed among theſe infortunate people, who cry as thou heareſt. Then ſtepping back, he ſhut the dore againſt Amadis, and waking his companions, ſaid. My friends I haue found a ſtrange knight, who to his harme hath entred on his good will. Let me talke with him, anſwered the Iaylor, and if I lodge him not worſe then the reſt, then blame me. So taking his hatchet and Shield, he came to Amadis with theſe words. Caitife, if thou wilt not die, throw downe thy weapons, leaſt with my hatchet I ſlice thy fleſh, & make carbonadoes of it. Very angry was Amadis to be thus threatned, wherefore he returned this anſwer. Slender is thy reaſon in thinking to feare me with thy words, but the Deuils ſhall affright thee a great deale more: for I will make them a preſent with thy ſoule, which ſo long hath giuen power to thy wicked body in doing euill. Preſently they ſmote at each other with their hatchets, the ioylor deliuering his ſtroke on the helmet of Amadis, ſo that it entred very far therein, & Amadis cutting through the iaylors Shield, enforced him to throw both it and his hatchet downe to ſtand to the only defence of his ſword: which endured not long likewiſe, wherefore he minded to grapple Amadis about the body, becauſe he was a man of maruailous ſtrength, yet could he not do ſo much as hee meant, in reſpect Amadis was a Knight both ſtiffe and ſturdy. Neuertheleſſe, the iaylor griped him very cruelly, 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 accompliſh his promiſe, ſeperating with his ſword the body from the ſoule.

The other Souldiours that beheld this fight, not thinking the iaylor was dead indeede, 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 doing any more harme: herewith hee drew his ſword, and taking vp his hatchet againe, marched toward them that came againſt him, who charged him very ſharpe and roughly: 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 company in the ſame ſuite. Caſt downe your weapons, ſayd Amadis, and ſhew mee them that complained ſo wofully: which they did, guiding him the way to the captiues, when Amadis hearing another voice ſomewhat neer him, demanded what he was. My Lord, replied the Souldier, it is a Lady in extreame anguiſh. Open the dore, quoth Amadis, that I may ſee 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 ſhe imagining the iaylor entred, cryed. Alas man, take pitie on me, and oppreſſe me with no more torments. Ah King, quoth ſhe, breathing forth a bitter ſigh: hard was my lot to be beloued of thee, ſeeing I buy my affection ſo deerely. Her grieuous moanes moued ſuch cō pation in Amadis, as the teares trickled downe his cheekes, returned her this anſwer. Lady, I am not the iaylor that locked you heere, but the man who meanes to deliuer you hence if I can, a ſtrange Knight, ſeeking my fortune euery where. Alas my Lord, ſayde 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 Souldiers hauing brought a light, the Prince ſaw how the Lady was tied by the neck with a great chaine, which had ſo worne & diſployed her garments, as the naked fleſh appeared in many places, and when ſhe beheld that Amadis pittied her, ſhee thus ſpake. Although (my Lord) I am at this preſent ſequeſtred frōal my lifehood, yet time hath been, when I was the wealthy daughter to a King, and for a King you finde me in this miſery. Lady, quoth Amadis, it behooueth you to embrace patience, theſe are but the mutabilities of fortune, which no one is able to preuent or eſcape: and if the man for whom you haue thus ſuffered, be of any account, 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 chaine to be taken from her neck, commanding garments to be brought and put about her: wherefore hee that brought the lights, ran for a ſcariet mantle, which Arcalaus not long before gaue the iaylor, and caſt it about the Ladies ſhoulders. This being done, Amadis tooke her by the hand, conducting her forth 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 woūds and torments haue you giuen me, and diuers in this Caſtle without deſert? althought your bodies at this inſtant cānot receiue cōdigne vēgance, your damned ſoules may euermore abide in ſufferance. Madame, ſaide Amadis, while I go to deliuer the reſt of the priſoners, I leaue ye in my Squires cuſtody, ſo paſſing on to the port-cullis, he met the Souldier that brought the lights, ſaying. Sir, Arcalaus demandeth where the Knight is that entred heere, whether he be dead or taken. He who caryed the torch before the Prince, was ſo affraid at theſe words, that he let it fal, which Amadis made him take vp againe, thus ſpeaking to him. Villaine, feareſt thou being in my guarde? goe on. Thē aſſending the ſtaires, they came into the open Court, where they ſawe the greater part of the night was ſpent, the Moone ſhining cleare, and the weather faire: but the Lady feeling the aire, and beholding the heauens, was ſo repleat with ioy, that ſhe fell on her knees before Amadis, ſaying: Ah gentle Knight, the Almighty protect thee, and require the good I haue receiued by thee, deliuering me from comfortleſſe darkeneſſe. Amadis looking round about for Gandalin, and finding him not, ſearing he had loſt him, wherefore he ſaide: If the beſt Squire in the world be dead, I will take ſuch reuenge for his death may I but find his murderer, as neuer was the like heard before. Being thus ouer-come with griefe, hee heard one crie, wherefore hee 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 piece of wood, hauing a fire vnderneath him full of filthy ſtinking ſauours: & neere him he eſpied Gandalin tied to a tree, toward whom hee was going to vnbinde him, but hee ſaw the Dwarffe had greateſt need of help, wherefore he cut the cords in twaine that held him vp, catching him in his armes to ſet him on his feete, afterward he vnlooſed Gandalin, ſaying: In ſooth my friend, whoſoeuer entreated thee thus, made little reckoning of thy good deſerts. Now becauſe he would deliuer the other priſoners, he met the Lady comming forth of the Caſtle, as he returned back againe, but going on, he found the gates faſt ſhut againſt him: whereupon he ſtaied ul day light in a corner of the Court, ſitting downe by the Lady, accompanied with two of the Souldiers, the Dwarffe and Gandalin. And as they communed together, Gandalin ſhewed the Prince a place where-into he ſaw a horſe led, which Amadis being deſirous to ſee, came to the dore and found it ſhut: but he ran ſo ſtrongly againſt it with his foote, that he made it fly open, finding the horſe there ready ſadled and bridled, whereon he mounted, attending the day and ſight of Arcalaus, who he knew was already arriued at the Caſtle, by matters he heard of Gandalin and the Dwarffe. In meane while he conferred with the Lady, demanding what the King was ſhe loued ſo deerly, and for whom ſhe had ſuſtained ſuch iniury. Worthy Lord, quoth ſhe, Arcalaus getting intelligence, of the Princes affection toward me whom I loue ſo loyally, this diueliſh enchanter being his mortall enemy: thought he could be no better reuenged on him, then by depriuing me of his preſēce, imagining the griefe here-of 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 not able to giue me any ſuccor, by reaſon of the traiterous villainous ſorceries: for they could not deuiſe what was become of me, becauſe a wonderfull darke cloud enuironed me, which hindred them from following mee to this place, ſince when, I neuer ſaw light till now you brought mee forth. The diſloyall wretch ſaid by the way as he brought me, that he would be reuenged on my loue & 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 ſpake of. It is King Arban of Norwales, anſwered the Lady, whom it may be you know. I know him right well, replied Amadis, for he is one whom I deerly loue, and now do 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 appeared, when Amadis ſaw a Knight leaning in a window, who thus demanded. Art thou he that didſt kill my iaylor & my ſeruants? Art thou he, anſwered Amadis, that ſo treacherouſly putteth knights to death, abuſing likewiſe both Ladyes and Gentlewomen? by heauen thou art one of the vileſt villaines that euer I heard of. As yet thou knoweſt not, ſaid Arcalaus, the vttermoſt of my power, but ſoone ſhalt thou haue experience thereof, to rid thee of ſuch boldnes in asking me what I can do, whether it bee wrong or right. Herewith hee went from the window, and not long after came downe into the Court, being well armed, & mounted on a luſty bay courſer. Now you muſt note that this Arcalaus, was one of the mightyeſt Knights in the world, yet no Gyant, wherefore when Amadis behelde him of ſuch ſtature, hee doubted not of his great force and ſtrength. Arcalous perceiuing hee eyed him ſo much, demāded what moued him ſo to doe? I imagine, anſwered Amadis, that according to thy large proportion, thou ſhouldeſt be a man of exquiſite Chiualrie: but thy peruerſe and humaine actions are a foule blemiſh thereto. Now truſt me ſayde Arcalaus I thinke my ſelfe highly beholding to fortune, who hath brought thee hither to make mee ſuch a ſmooth ſermon: but all this will not helpe thee, therefore defend thy ſelfe. So charging their Launces, they brake ſo brauely on their Shields, as the ſhiuers flewe vp into the aire, and with ſuch violence met their horſes and bodies, that they were both laide along on the ground. Quickly they aroſe, & with their ſwordes began a bloudy combate, wherein deſire of victorie, and hauty reſolution of vncō querable courage, made thē continue a long time, till Arcalaus retiring 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 thee, I may yet commend thy boldnes in entring heere. My death, anſwered Amadis, is in the hand of God whom I reuerence, and thine in the power of the Deuill, who is weary of helping thee: and bequeatheth thy body to ſo innumerable miſchiefes, as a preſent periſhing of ſoule and altogether. But ſeeing thou wouldeſt ſo gladly know my name. I am commonly called Amadis of Gaule, Knight to the Queene Briſana: let vs now then chat no longer but fall to the combate, for on my parte I promiſe no more reſting. A calaus aduancing his Shield, came with foming fury againſt Amadis, who knew full well how to welcome him: and ſuch eager ſtrokes paſt on either ſide, as their ſhields were ſcattered in pieces about them, & likewiſe many plates of their Armour. Now was it about the third houre, whē Arcalaus hauing ſuſtained great loſſe of his bloud, was forced to ſend vp and down before his enemy, and ſeeing the imminent death before his eyes, fled to that part of the Caſtle where he came out: yet Amadis by cloſe purſuit ſtill continued his feare, whereupon he ſtept into a chamber, at the dore whereof ſtood a Lady beholding the combate, and he was no ſooner encred the roome, but be caught vp another ſword, turning his face • o Amadis, ſaying. Enter this chāber 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? ſaide Amadis, thinkeſt thou ſo ſlily to eſcape? ſo placing his ſhield before, he entred the chamber: but as hee lifted vp his ſword to ſtrike, he was depriued of ſtrength and the vſe of his members, ſo that hee fell to the ground as he had beene dead. Yea mary, ſaid Arcalaus, this is the way to make thee dye as I deſired, ſleepe then till I wake thee. How ſay you Lady? quoth he to her that ſtood by, am I not (in your opinion) well reuenged on him? Indeed ſaide ſhe, he is now altogether at your commandement. Preſently he vnarmed him, Amadis not feeling any thing was done to him: afterward Arcalaus put on himſelfe the Princes Armour, thus ſpeaking to the Lady. Madame, looke (on perill of your life) that no one remoue him hence, vntill his ſoule haue forſaken his body: then hee intended to iourney to the court, where each one ſeeing him in the Armour of Amadis, might thinke he had ſlaine him.

But now the ſorrowfull Lady ſo lately deliuered from priſō, made ſuch mone as would haue melted a heart of Adamant, and what Gandalins countenance was, you may eaſily iudge: when Arcalaus ſawe the Lady lament, he ſayde. Dame, ſeeke ſome other to deliuer you from priſon, for I haue diſpatched your hardy Chamhion. Theſe wordes made Gandalin in ſuch deſpare, 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 boldely combate with me. When he had ſhewed him to her, he demāded if he were not now quiet enough, The comfortleſſe Lady ſeeing him in ſuch eſtate, wanted no teares to expreſſe the aboundance of her griefe, and withall: Ah God, quoth ſhe, how yikſome will the reporte of his death be to many? then Arcaldus calling his wife, ſayde. So &;soone as this wretch is dead, impriſon this Lady where ſhe was before, for I will go to the Court of King Liſuart, and there declare how I combated with Amadis, by couenant, that the conquerour ſhould cut off the head of the vanquiſhed, and within fifteene daies following, to publiſh his victory openly in great Brittaine. By theſe meanes none ſhal quarrel with me about his death, and I ſhall obtain the greateſt glory in the world, hauing ouercome him that conquered everyone. Thē went he where he left Gandalin and the Dwarffe, commanding them to be locked vp in a priſon: but Gandalin who wiſhed death, thinking his maiſter was dead indeede, would not goe with him, deſiring ſome one to kil him: and to enforce Arcalaus doe him ſo much fauour, reuiled him with names of traitour & villaine, hauing ſlaine the moſt loyall knight in the world, Arcalaus made no account of his words, but beecauſe he would not goe willingly, he dragged him by the eares, and thruſt him into the dungeon, ſaying. If I preſently kill thee, thou ſhouldeſt endure no more paine, but heere thou ſhalt ſuffer worſe then death. So mounted Arcalaus on the horſe of Amadis, and accōpanied with three Squires, rode toward the Court of King Liſuart.

CHAP. XX.

How Amadis was enchaunted by Arcalaus, when he would haue deliuered the Lady Grindaloya, and other from priſon: and how afterward eſcaped the enchantments by the ayde of Vrganda.

GRindaloya the Lady deliuered by Amadis from priſon, made ſuch exceſſiue lamenrations for him, as euery one pittied her, ſhee thus ſpeaking to the wife of Arcalaus, and the reſt in the company. Ah faire Ladies, beholde yee not the beauty of this braue Gentle-man, who in ſo young yeeres was the onely Knight in the world? miſ-hap attend on ſuch, who by enchantment, iniurie men of vertue: O 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 beholde his dealings, and continually praied for his amendmēt, comforting the wofull Lady ſo well as ſhe could. As thus they were deuiſing together, they ſaw two other Ladyes enter the chamber, each one bringing in her hand 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 ſtirre him. Then one of the Ladyes ſo lately there arriued, tooke (out of a little caſket ſhe carried) a Booke, whereon ſhe began to reade, and diuers times another voyſe anſwered her. As thus ſhe continued her lecture, many other voyces were heard, as they imagined them more then an hundred: then came another book flying into the chamber, ſeeming as if the winde caryed it, and fell downe at her feete that reade, 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, ſaid. Lord Amadis ariſe, you haue ſlept too long vneaſily. Immediately, Amadis awaked, and riſing vp, thus ſpake. Alas where am I? I maruaile that I am aliue. Beleeue me Sir, anſwered the Lady, ſuch a one as you are muſt not dye in this ſorte, rather wil the heauens permit, that they who haue deſerued it ſhall dy by your hand. Herewith 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 gone to the court of King Liſuart, clad in his Armour, and mounted on his horſe, to reporte that he had ſlaine him in combate. Indeede I felt, quoth Amadis, when he vnarmed me, but on my faith methought I dreamed: and ſeeing he is gone with my armour, I will make his to ſerue me at this time. Hauing put on the armor of Arcalaus, he demanded of Grindaloya, what was become of Gandalin and the Dwarffe: ſhe tolde him they were impriſoned. Euill befall the villaine that ſo hardly vſed them, ſayde Amadis: and Lady, quoth he to Ar •… wife, vpon your life looke to the ſafetie of this noble woman till I returne. Comming fourth into the Court, it was a paſtime to ſee how Arcalaus ſeruants fled his ſight: but Amadis let them run, and went to the darke vncomfortleſſe priſons which were filled with captiues.

Now to tel ye in what diſtreſſed manner they were, you muſt note, the place was a vault of an hundred toyſes long, yet no more thē one foote and a halfe in breadth, without aire or light, and (which was worſt of all) ſo ful of priſoners, as they could ſcantly ſtand one by another. Amadis called Gandalin, who being in a manner dead, hearing his maiſters voyce, began to tremble: yet thinking it was not he, becauſe he verily imagined him to be dead, entred into diuers doubts of himſelfe, whither hee dreamed, or was enchanted. All this while Amadis greatly grieued, becauſe Gandalin made no anſwer, wherefore he called aloud againe: Gandalin where art thou? why doſt thou make me trauaile ſo much? ſpeake I pray thee. When he ſaw (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 remembering the voyce of Amadis, cryed out. Alas my Lord, we are both heere together aliue as yet, albeit we haue often enough wiſhed for death. Then Amadis cauſed candles to bee lighted at the lamp, which hung at the entrance of the dungeon, commanding them all to come forth, to their no little ioy and comfort, ſeeing themſelues deliuered from ſuch miſerable ſeruitude: and when they came into the open Court, they fell on their knees before the Prince, thanking God and him for this happie benefit. Amadis beholding their faces ſo pale, wan, and ouer-ſpent, ſeeming rather bloudleſſe ghoſtes then liuing creatures, was moued to exceeding compaſſion, eſpecially they being an hundred and fifty priſoners in all, and thirty of them were Knights at Armes: as he caſt his eye euerie where among thē, hee made more account of one then all the reſt, who notwithſtanding his ſicknes and debility, ſeemed 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 frō ſo long wretched thraldome? Such as know me, anſwered the Prince, doe call me Amadis of Gaule, Sonne to King Perion, Knight to the Queene Briſana, and domiſticall ſeruant to king Liſuart her husband: in ſearch of a Knight I was brought hither by this Dwarffe, to whom I made promiſe in a ſute he had. In ſooth my Lord, replied 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 doe, with whom I haue been ſeene in greater honor then now I am: becauſe euer ſince my departure from the Court, I haue liued in the miſerie from which you redeemed me. How may I call your name? ſaide Amadis. Brandoyuas, anſwered the Knight. Full well did the Prince remēber, that he had heard report of him in the Court, wherefore courteouſly embracing him, he ſayde. Right glad am I, my ſtars ſo fauoured me, to deliuer you & theſe other frō ſuch a helliſh place: and though I neuer ſaw you til this preſent, yet oft haue I heard the King and his Barrons talke of your Chiualrie, your long abſence beeing no little griefe to them. The reſt of the priſoners cōfeſſed their bounden dutie to him, deſiring him to appoint them what they ſhould doe: hee willing them to ſhape their courſe whether they thought beſt. My Lord, quoth they, albeit we know not what ſeuerall Countryes may harbour vs, yet will we ſtill continue your deuoted ſeruants, to attend on you when and whereſoeuer need ſhall require. So each one kiſſing his hand, they tooke their leaue, limiting their iournys as they thought good, not any of them tarying with Amadis, but Brandoyuas.

Now go they to the wife of Arcalaus, Amadis thus ſpeaking to her. Lady, for your ſake and theſe other Gentlewomen, I forbeare to ſet this Caſtle on fire, albeit the euill behauiour of your husband is ſufficient warrant therefore: but in regarde of the courteſie Knights owe to Ladies, I am content to remit all at this time. Alas my Lord, quoth ſhe, heauen beareth record of the griefe my ſoule hath endured, through the behauiour of Arcalaus my husband: yet could I do nothing but ſhew obedience, as beſeemed a wife to her wedded Lord, with interceſſion for his change, notwithſtāding, I remaine at your diſpoſition. What I will doe, anſwered Amadis, I haue already toldeye, 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 would haue an Armour for this Knight, to requite his own which was taken from him, and a horſe as beſeemeth one of his profeſſion. If you miſlike of my demand, doe more or leſſe as you thinke good, but ſo •… owne part, I will haue hence the armour of Arcalans in liew of mine, and his horſe, by reaſon mine own was better: yet muſt I tell ye withall, that hee hath taken a ſword from me more worth then all the reſt. Sir, anſwered the Lady, your requeſt is ſo reaſonable, that beyond the power you alone haue heere, I ſtand bound in dutie to fulfill your commandement. Then ſent ſhe for the ſame armour belonged to Brandoyuas, and cauſed a horſe to be deliuered 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, whereto he willingly condiſcended. Now was the beſt viandes brought foorth, ſo ſhort warning might affoord, but Grindaloya was in ſuch haſt to be gone, as ſhe was loth to be troubled with any: whereat Amadis and Brandoyuas merily ſmiled, eſpecially at the Dwarffe, who looked ſo pale and wan with feare, that it was impoſſible for him to offer one word, which made Amadis, thus to ieſt with him. Tell mee Dwarffe, wilt thou that we tarry heere till Arcalaus come, and I to giue thee the ſuite thou deſireſt? In ſooth, my Lord, quoth the Dwarffe, ſo deere 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 gone ere the Diuell come againe, for I cannot ſtand on the leg he hung me by, beſide, my noſe is ſo full of ſulphurous and ſtinking ſmels, as neuer ſhall I giue ouer ſneezing till I die. The Dwarffes words made them all laugh hartely, and after they had repaſted, Amadis bidding Arcalaus wife farwel, moū ted on horſe-back with his company, the Lady thus ſpeaking at his departure. I ſhall pray Sir Knight, that God may ſend peace between my husband and you. Beleeue me Lady, quoth he, though I neuer care for it with him, yet ſhall it remaine twixt you and me, becauſe you deſerue it. So fortuned it after-ward theſe words tooke effect, and highly profited the good Lady, as in ſome part of this hiſtory you ſhall heare recited.

Now are they departed from the Caſtle of Arcalaus, riding till the night ouer-tooke them, lodging at a Ladyes place fiue leagues thence, where they were entertained with very gracious welcome: and on the morrow, after they had thanked their friendly hoſt, as they rode together, Amadis thus communed with Brandoyuas. Courteous Sir, I trauaile in ſearch of a Knight, as here-tofore I told ye, & 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 court, notwithſtanding, if you thinke it good, I will keepe ye company. Little neede ſhall I haue thereof, anſwered Amadis, I thanke ye, becauſe I muſt be cōſtrained to wander alone, ſo ſoone as I haue brought this Lady into ſuch ſafety as ſhe thinkes meete. My Lord, quoth ſhe, I will accompany this Gentleman if you pleaſe, ſeeing he trauaileth to the Court of King Liſuart: and there I hope to finde him for whom I was priſoner, who I am aſſured will be glad of my deliuerance. Now truſt me, anſwered Amadis, very well ſayde, goe then together, and God be your guid. Thus are they ſeperated, now remaining none with Amadis but Gandalin & the Dwarffe, of whom the Prince likewiſe demanded what he meant to do. Mary be your truſty ſeruant, ſayde the Dwarffe, if you like ſo well as I. I am well pleaſed, replied Amadis, and thou ſhalt doe what thou wilt thy ſelfe. In ſooth my Lord, quoth the Dwarffe, ſeeing you releaſed me, I would gladly remaine in your ſeruice, for I know not where I may be halfe ſo well: the man and the maiſter being both agreed: they tooke their way as fortune liked to conduct them.

Not farre had they trauailed, but they met one of the Ladyes, that reſcued him from enchantment at Arcalaus Caſtle, ſhee weeping and mourning very grieuouſly: which mouing Amadis to pitty her complaints, made him demand the cauſe thereof. A Knight who rideth not farre before, quoth ſhe, hath taken from me a little caſket, wherein is matter of great cō ſequence, yet no way able to pleaſure him: for ſuch things are therein, as within theſe three dayes one in my company and my ſelfe, reſtored from death the beſt Knight in the world, and ſhee likewiſe of whom I tell ye, is violently caryed away by another Knight, who is ridden before intending to force her. Heere 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, hee neuer left gallopping till he ouer-tooke him, to whom hee thus ſpake, Knight, you deale not courteouſly, giuing this Lady cauſe thus to complaine of you, and me-thinkes you ſhould do a great deale better, to deliuer the casket againe you tooke from her: but when the Knight heard him, hee fell in a great laughter. Why do ye thus laugh Sir? ſayd Amadis. I laugh at you, anſwered the Knight, whom I thinke ſcant wiſe in giuing councell to him that demands it not, the leſſe hope may you haue in ſpeeding in your ſuite. 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 thē? ſayde the Knight. Not you Sir, anſwered Amadis, but your ouer-much boldnes in vſing force where it ought not to be. Is it true, quoth the Knight: with theſe words hee ſet the casket aſide in a tree, and returning to Amadis, ſayd. If your brauery be ſuch in deedes as it ſeemeth in words, come teach mee know it and receiue the law. So giuing the ſpurres to their horſes, they encountred together in ſuch ſorte, as the Knight being diſmoū ted, his horſe fel 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, ſayd. Take your owne faire Lady, & tarry here till I bring your companion. Preſently he poſted after the other Knight, ouer-taking him at a thicket of trees, where he had tyed both his horſe and the Ladies, trayling her by the haire of the head into the wood, there to commit his villainous deſire, but Amadis cryed to him aloude in this manner. Of an euill death maiſt thou dye traytor, that wrongeſt a Lady in this ſorte without offending thee. As the Knight ſtrougled with her to get her into the wood, hee looked vp and ſaw Amadis, whereupon he left her, making ſpeede to his weapons and mounted on horſeback, then approching neere the Prince, hee ſayd. By my hand Knight, in hapleſſe time for thee 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, replied Amadis, of one addicted to ſuch villainy, that ſeeks to force Ladies, who ought in all liberty and honor to be defended, and ſo they bee by all loyall Knights. With a braue courſe they met together, when though the knight brake his lance, yet was hee hurled againſt the ground ſo violently, as the weight of his armour and ſtrength of his fall, made him lye trembling in a trance. Which Amadis perceiuing, to rid him out of his paine altogether, he trampled on his belly with his horſe feete, ſaying. Thus ſhalt thou looſe thy deſire of forcing Ladyes. And as for you faire ſoule, I hope heereafter you are rid from any danger of him. The more am I to thank you my Lord, quoth ſhe, would God my companion 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 ſuccored her ſo well, as ſhee hath recouered what was taken from her, and beeholde where my Squire conducteth her hither-ward.

Now becauſe the heat was ſome-what violent, Amadis put off his helmet to take the ayre, when the Damoſell immediately knew him: for it was ſhee that at his returne from Gaule, conducted him to Vrganda the vnknowne, when by Chiualry he deliuered her friend at the Caſtle of Bradoy • , which made her remember him, and ſo did Amadis her, when alighting they embraced each other, the like courteſie he ſhewed to the other Damoſell. Alas! quoth they, had we but dreamed on ſuch a defender, no villain could haue wronged vs halfe ſo much. On my faith, ſaid Amadis, the help you gaue me within theſe three daies, may not be compared with this matter of no validitie: for I was in greater extreamity thē you, but how could you poſſibly vnderſtand thereof? My Lord, (quoth ſhe that tooke him by the hand when hee was enchanted) mine Aunt Vrganda ſent me to the Caſtle of Arcalaus, by whoſe meanes we came thither, and you were recouered. Heauen ſhielde from euill that good Lady, anſwered Amadis, who hath ſo many waies bound me her obedient ſeruant: and you faire Damoſels, the meſſengers of this fauour, haue you any thing elſe wherein to cō mand me? No my Lord, ſaid they, take you the way you left, and wee wil returne from whence we came. Fare well ſweet Virgins, replied Amadis, remember my humble duty to the health of your Miſtreſſe, telling her, ſhe knowes right well I am her Knight. In this manner rode the Damozels one way, and Amadis another: wherefore wee muſt now tell what happened to Arcalaus, ſince his departure from the Caſtle of Valderin.

CHAP. XXI.

How Arcalaus brought newes to the Court of King Liſuart, that Amadis was dead, which cauſed his friends to make manifold lamentations and regreets, eſpecially the Princeſſe Oriana.

SVch ſpeede made Arcalaus after his departure from Valderin, where he left Amadis enchanted, hee being (as I haue ſaide) clad in his armor, and mounted on his horſe: that the tenth day following, hee arriued neer the court of king Liſuart, who was riding abroade in the fields to take the aire, accōpanied with his Lords along the forreſt ſide. They ſeeing Arcalaus come a far off, hauing on the armor of Amadis, imagining it was hee indeede, diuers rode before to welcome him: but when they came more neere, they found thēſelues deceiued, by reaſō Arcalaus had his head and hands vnarmed, wherefore without ſaluting the Gentlemen, he ſtepped to the King with theſe words. Sir, I come to acquite a promiſe wherein I ſtand bound, namely to let you vnderſtand, how I haue ſlaine a Knight in battaile, that ſome-time bare theſe armes. And albeit I muſt be content to declare mine owne prayſe, which were more honorable for me, being reported by another in mine abſence: yet am I conſtrained to do no leſſe, ſeeing the couenant was betweene me & him whom I haue ſlaine: viz. that the conquerour ſhould diſpoyle the vanquiſhed of his head, and preſent it before you as this day. Full loth was I to be ſo cruell, becauſe hee tolde mee hee was your Queenes Knight, commonly called Amadis of Gaule, and ſo hee named himſelfe whom I vanquiſhed. As for me Sir, I tolde him in truth that I was Arcalaus, whom fortune hath graced with ſuch ſinguler fauour: for I haue ſlaine the man, ſome-time owner of this armour and horſe, which as a teſtimony of my victory I brought with mee. Ah God, ſayde the King, is then the moſt vertuous and accompliſhed Knight in the world dead? you lowring heauens, why began ye ſo braue to courſe in him, and now on ſuch a ſudden to cut it off? Theſe ſorrowfull newes prouoked ſighes and teares, both in the King and his royall company, which Arcalaus perceiuing, not ſpeaking any thing elſe, returned the ſame way he came, feigning himſelfe likewiſe very ſad and grieued: but you muſt thinke he went not without great ſtore of curſes, euery one inſtantly deſiring God, to ſend him an euill and ſpeedy death, which with their Swordes they could gladly haue beſtowed on him themſelues, but that they heard howe Amadis was ſlaine by an accorded battaile.

The King being ouercome with penſiueneſſe and ſorrow, returned to the Towne, where theſe newes were ſo opened to euery one, that at length the Queene and her Ladyes heard thereof, which preſently conuerted their former pleaſures in to mourning. At this time was the Princeſſe Oriana in her chamber with the Damoſell of Denmarke, where hearing the ſudden clamour and noyſe, ſhe commanded her to goe vnderſtand the cauſe thereof. Alas good Lady, 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 weeping into her chamber, ſaying. Ah Madame, what tongue can deliuer this wonderfull miſhap? yet durſt ſhe not (good Lady) bee 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 ſayde. Alas! he is dead, it can not be otherwiſe. It is true madame, anſwered the Damoſell, but what remedy? you muſt not likewiſe dy for company. Theſe words made Oriana fall into a ſwoune, which the Damoſell of Denmarke beholding, thought ſhee had too indiſcreetly brought her theſe bad tidings, whereupon ſhe called the Princeſſe Mabila, ſaying. Helpe Madame, my miſtreſſe dyeth. She being come, ſaw that ſhee neither moued or breathed, doubted leaſt life had taken leaue indeed, wherefore ſhe commanded the Damoſell to ſhut the dore, to the end her loue all this while ſo well concealed, might not breake foorth into open ſuſpition. Then vnlacing her garments to giue her more libertie, as alſo bathing her temples and pulſes with vineger & cold water, ſhe recouered againe, when deliring a faint figh, with a feeble voiſe ſhe thus ſpake. Ah ſweete friends, hinder me not in the way of death, if you deſire my reſt, and would haue God find 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 world, who is replete with griefe 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 maruailous afflictions: for thou haſt left ſuch honor in the world behinde thee, conquering ſo incomparable reputation in this ſhort time of thy life, that (rekoning thy merites) thou diedſt poſſeſſed with many yeeres. Thus liueſt thou in place immortall, I remaining heere alone after thee, can giue but wounding and vnthankfull ſpeeches. Ah cruell death, ſufficed it not that mighty loue murdered him with his feathered ſteele, 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 ſee reaſon proceede frō her that did thee wrong, who beeing the cauſe, will beare thee company in death. And I may iuſtly challenge him of wrong, ſeeing equall loue had vnited our willes to ſeperate our perſons in this ſorte: where hauing affoorded our ending together, wee likewiſe might haue inioyed one ſepulchre. After theſe words ſhe ſwounded againe in Mabilaes armes, and in ſuch manner altered her countenance, as they reputed her verily dead, her faire and golden lockes being diſcheueled, her armes and legges depriued of vitall motion, euen as when the ſoule hath taken his flight, from the body. Mabila deſparing of any life left in her, was ſo ſurpriſed with griefe, that ſhee was conſtrained to leaue the Damoſell alone with the Princeſſe, & walking ſome-what aſide by her ſelfe thus lamented. Incomprehenſible wiſdome, let mee not liue to endure theſe trauailes, ſeeing thou haſt taken theſe two from me whom I loued as my life. But when the Damoſell of Denmarke ſaw her ſelfe thus alone betweene two extreames, ſhee was maruailouſly abaſhed: yet as one wiſe and well gouerned, ſhee ſpake in this manner to the Princeſſe Mabila. Why Madame? when were you wont 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 danger if ſhee reuiue againe. Come I pray yee ſuccour her, for now is the time of greateſt neede, and let theſe lamentations be referred till another time. Mabila perceiuing the Damoſell ſaide true, wherefore ſhe came to Oriana, and feeling by her warmeneſſe ſome hope of life to bee expected, they lifted her vpon the bed, when ſoon after her ſpirites returned to their office: and to qualifie this agonie, they could deuiſe no better means, then to buſie her eares with ſome or other ſpeeches. Why Madame? quoth one, will ye leaue vs? at leaſt yet ſpeake to vs. Madame ſaide the other, your Amadis is yet aliue and well. At the name of Amadis, ſhee opened her eyes, turning her head here 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 ſigh, ſtarted vp, ſaying. Alas ſweete friend, where is he? We vnderſtand, quoth ſhee, that he is in very good health, and how the Knight who brought theſe bad tidings, is wont to vaunt of himſelfe without cauſe feeding himſelfe with falſe praiſe of deceiuing Knights. Why? ſaide Oriana, haue I not heard that hee brought his horſe and armour? A matter of nothing, anſwered Mabila, they may as wel be borrowed or ſtolne, or he (happily) ſent with that falſe allarme, to try out conſtancy: then finding vs thus weakely diſpoſed, hee ſhould haue had the thing he deſired. I would not haue you thinke ſo ſimply Madam, that Amadis could be ouercome by one and no better a knight then he, nor were it reaſon to credit a commender of himſelfe, bringing his owne glory for teſtimony and no other approbation: I am aſſured that Amadis will come ere long, and if he finde you not onely dead in a manner, but thus giuen ouer to griefe: it will coſt his life, ſo ſhall you deliuer vnhappy proofe, what wicked feigning by malice can do, and thus you both ſhall die one for another, When Oriana remembred, how by this meane ſhe might be the death of her friend, if by good hap he yet enioyed life, and imagined likewiſe that Mabila ſpake the truth▪ ſhe tooke courage, caſting her eye on the windowe, where many times Amadis and ſhe had amorouſly conferred, when firſt he ariued at her fathers Court, and intercepting a number of forced ſighes, thus ſpake. Ah window, the witneſſe of my abādoned pleaſures, how piercing is the doubt of him whom thou cauſeſt me remember, and by whoſe gracious words both thou and I were made happy? Of this I am certaine, that neuer canſt thou indure ſo long as two ſo loyall louers might (by thee) enioy ſuch delight as he and I haue done: which fayling mee now, giueth me ſtrange and inſupportable torments to bee my companions, and hence-forth ſhall my ſad ſpirit remaine 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 ſhee had done, in this manner. Why Madam? thinke you if I held theſe babling newes for truth, I could haue the power to comfort you in this ſort, the loue I beare to my Cozin is not ſo little, but rather I ſhould incite all the world to weepe, then want conſolation for you, who ſtand in ſuch neede thereof. But I ſee ſo ſlender appearance of beleefe, as I will not before time require, repute you vnfortunate, becauſe diſcomforting our ſelues without aſurance: The euill hereby may be amended, and the good made much more worſe, eſpecially it will be the meane of diſcouering, what hath ſo long time beene ſhaddowed in ſecret. Alas, quoth Oriana, if he bee dead, I care not though our loue were openly knowne for all our miſhaps in reſpect of it are nothing.

Thus debating and deuiſing together, the two Ladies 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 demanded for Oriana, ſhe anſwered that ſhe accompanied Mabila, whom ſhe would not ſuffer to part from her, by reaſon of her griefe for her Coſin Amadis. Thus was the princeſſes ſecret ſadneſſe couered, all night ſhe being vnable to take any reſt, ſuch were her aſſaults between doubt and deſpaire, not forgetting any thing that paſt betweene her and Amadis ſince their younger yeeres. But on the morrow about dinner time, Brandoynas entred the palace, leading Grindaloya in his hand, which gaue great ioy to ſuch as knew them, for of long time they could not imagine what was become of them: they falling on their knees before the king, were quickly called to remembrance, his maieſty thus ſpeaking. Sir Brandoyuas, how chaunce you haue tarryed ſo long from vs? Alas my Lord, quoth he, impriſonment hath bin the cauſe, whereout (had not the good Knight Amadis of Gaule, giuen liberty to me, this Lady and many more, by ſuch deedes of Armes as are vnſpeakable) we could neuer haue been deliuered. Yet was he once in danger of tarying there himſelfe, by the villainous coniurations and ſorceries of Arcalaus: but he was ſuccoured by two Damoſels, who deliuered him from all the exorciſmes. When the King heard him name Amadis, whom hee verily thought to be dead? What my friend? quoth he, by the faith thou oweſt to 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 demanded ſuch a queſtiō? Becauſe, ſayd the King, Arcalaus yeſterday tolde vs he had ſlaine him: heere-with he declared his ſpeeches, and the manner how. What a traiterous villaine is that? replied Brandoyuas, but worſe is befalne him then he weeneth as yet: hereto he added what paſſed betweene Amadis & Arcalaus, as already you haue heard, whereby each one forſooke the ſorrow of the former falſe newes, the King preſently commanding, that Grindaloya ſhould be conducted to the Queene, that ſhee might vnderſtand theſe happy tidings.

Into the Queenes chamber is ſhe brought, and the Damoſell of Denmarke hearing her reporte, ran with all ſpeede to the Princeſſe Oriana, who hearing by her the truth of all, the paſſage of her ſpeech was ſtopt for a long time, ſeeming as one confounded with enchantment, thinking in theſe newes ſhee 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 friend, did I raue? or toldeſt thou me that Grindaloya teſtified to the Queene, how Amadis is not dead? In good faith, quoth the Damoſel, I came but euen now from her highnes chamber, where Grindaloya declared how Arcalaus had deceiued thē. Happy bee this houre, ſayde Oriana, but I pray thee goe tell my mother, that Mabila entreates her to ſende the Lady to comfort her: which ſhe did, returning right ſoone with Grindaloya to Oriana. I leaue to imagine whether ſhee 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 deedes of armes at Valderin, the miſery of her and many other, the danger whereinto he fell afterward by the enchantments of Arcalaus, from which hee was deliuered by two ſtrange Damoſels. The diſcourſe hereof ſo pleaſed & contented them, that I think Grindaloya had an endleſſe taske in the reporting, for Oriana muſt heare euery thing often redoubled. But repeating the dangers of Amadis, and the miſery from which he deliuered the poore captiues, cauſed teares ſo thick as winters haile to trill downe her cheekes. Thus taried Grindaloya all day wiih the two Princeſſes, and had not ſo ſoone departed, but that ſhee was aduertiſed, how that King Arban of Norwales, (who loued her deerely) expected her returne in the Queenes chamber. Good reaſon had ſhe to take leaue of Oriana, and ſeeke him from whom ſhee ſuffered ſuch ſorrow: But when theſe loyall louers met together, each one was delighted ſo ſubſtantially, as Grindaloya thought her griefes well recompenced. Now becauſe the Queene vnderſtood, how ſhee was daughter to King Ardroyd of Seralis, and all her miſeries had been for the loue of king Arban: with inſtant intreaty ſhee procured her ſtay in the Court, doing her all the honour and fauour could be deuiſed. Grindaloya was not curious in granting the Queenes requeſt, becauſe king Arban was partaker in the ſame ſuite: by this occaſion the Queene was aduertiſed, that ſhee had a maruailous faire ſiſter named Aldena, who was nouriſhed in the Duke of Briſtoyaes caſtle, which made her preſently diſpatch a Gentleman thither, with requeſt that the Dutcheſſe would ſend her to the Court. This Aldena was the friend to Galaor, ſhee for him ſuffered ſuch iniurie by the Dwarff as you haue heard before diſcourſed. We haue a long time continued with Amadis, now let vs returne againe to Galaor, leauing King Liſuart in hope to ſee him ſoone in his Court, whom Arcalaus ſaid he had ſlaine in combat.

CHAP. XXII.

How Galaor came very ſore wounded to a Monaſtery, where he ſoiurned fiue dayes attending his health, and at his departure thence, what happened to him ſhall be declared in this Chapter.

FIue dayes together aboade Galaor at the Monaſtery, whether he was conducted by the Damozell he deliuered from priſon, attending there the recouery of his wounds: but when hee found himſelfe able to weare his Armor, 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 fayre fountain, where he found a knight armed hauing no horſe: Galaor maruailing thereat, demanded if hee came thither on foote, the knight returning this anſwere. Beleeue me no, but riding through this Forreſt to a Caſtle of mine, I met with certaine theeues that ſlew my Horſe: 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 wee 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, often times enuenomed beaſts doe drink here-of, and are preſently healed: beſide, diuerſe of this Countrey vſe to come hither, and finde redreſſe for all their infirmities. In ſooth you tell me meruailes, replied Galaor, and ſeeing I am now ſo neere it, I will alight to drinke thereof as others haue done. Good rraſon you ſhould anſwered the Knight, becauſe you are ignorant of comming this way againe. Galaor leaped from his Horſe, 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 Horſe, when leauing the Prince drinking he rode away, ſaying. Farewell Knight, I muſt be gone, tarry thou here to beguile another as I haue done thee. Galaor lifting his head from the water, and ſeeing the Knight make ſuch haſt 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 act of great diſloyalty, which thou ſhalt well know, if euer I meet with thee. Yea mary, anſwered the knight, reſt your ſelfe there, till you recouer ſome other meane to combat with me.

Gone is the Knight ſo faſt as he could gallop, leauing Galaor chaſing like a mad man, but ſeeing there was no remedy, he mounted on his Squires horſe and purſued him, til at length he came to a double way: when not knowing which of them to take, becauſe he had loſt the ſight of him, hee ſtood ſtill in great penſiuenes, till at length hee ſaw a Damoſel come riding a pace toward him, of whom hee demanded, if ſhe met not a knight mounted on a bay Courſer, bearing in a whi •• ſheeld a vermilion flower. What would you with him? replyed the Damoſell. I would quoth he recouer again my horſe & Armes, for they be mine, and by falſe villanies hee hath carried them from me. When happened this? ſaid the Damoſell: wherewith Galaor told her all the diſcourſe. Well, quoth the Damoſell, what can you doe to him being thus vnarmed? for I thinke hee tooke them not away to reſtore them againe. I care for nothing elſe, ſaid Galaor, but to finde him once more. Truſt me, anſwered the Damoſell, if you wil grant me one boone, ſoone ſhall I bring ye together againe, Galaor being very deſirous hereof, agreed to any thing ſhe would demand. Follow me then, quoth ſhe, ſo turning her horſe, rode the ſame way ſhe came, keeping cōpany a while together: but the Damoſell being better mounted then he, left him behinde with his Squire, & rid before ſo faſt, that they had loſt the ſight of her, trauailing the ſpace of 3. miles without any news of her, but at laſt on a great plain they ſaw her returne againe, here you muſt note, that the cauſe of her riding thus before, was to aduertiſe the other knight (being her deere friend) of their comming, and hee had expreſſely ſent her to fetch Galaor, to deceiue him of the reſt of his Armour: which he imagined eaſily to do without danger, ſeeing hee 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 Pauilion, erected by him on the plaine, and no ſooner came ſhe to Galaor, but thus ſhe ſpake. Gentlemā, to the end I might not faile in my promiſe, I forſooke your cō pany a while, only to ſee if the man you looke for, were in the place I left him or no: there haue I found him, little thinking on your coming, and in yonder Pauilion 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 meeting him at the doore, ſaid. Sir knight, what moueth thee to come in here without licence, truſt me it is but little for thy profit, becauſe thou muſt here leaue the reſt of thine Armour, or die preſently. Thou mayſt be therein deceiued, anſwered Galaor, and the wordes of ſuch a wretch as thou art cannot feare me.

This reply very angerly incenſed the Knight, lifting vp his ſword to ſmite the Prince on the head, but Galaor cunningly eſcaped the blowe, giuing his enemy ſuch a ſtroake on the top of his helmet, as made him ſit one knee to the ground: then quickly laying hold on him, got the helmet beſide his head, ſpurning him ſo ſtrongly with his feete, that therewith hee fell on his face to the earth. When the Knight beheld himſelfe in ſuch danger, he called with a loud voice to the Damofell for ſuccor, where-upon ſhe ſtepped to Galaor, ſaying: that hee ſhould holde his hand, for this was the boone he promiſed to giue her. But he being in extream choller, gaue no eare to her ſpeeches, bringing the Knight into ſuch eſtate, as hee left no vitall motion in him: whereat the Damoſell being ready to deſpaire, breathed forth many grieuous lamentations, ſaying. Alas wretch that I am, too long haue I trifled time: for in ſeeking to beguile another, my ſelfe am worthiely requited with deceite. And thou traytor quoth ſhee to Galaor, who haſt thus cruelly put him to death, heauen ſend thee a more worſe and hapleſſe end, for by thee haue I loſt my only felicity in this world: for which (bee well aſſured) it ſhall coſt thee thy life, becauſe thou haſt broken promiſe with mee, and in ſuch a place will I demand reuenge on thee, as nothing but thy death ſhal expiate my anger, wert thou a Knight of greater hardineſſe then thou art: if then thou make refuſall there, I ſhall haue more then iuſt occaſion to publiſh in all places, the puſillanimity of thy faint hearted courage.

Faire Damoſell, anſwered Galaor, if I had thought his death would haue beene ſo grieuons to you, I could haue ſpared part of my diſpleaſure, though iuſtly hee deſerned no leſſe, but you ſpake when it was too late. The worſe for thee, replyed the Damoſell, becauſe thy death ſhall recompence his. Galaor ſeeing ſhee continued her threatning ſpeeches, without any further anſwere left her, lacing on his helmet, mounting on the horſe the dead Knight tooke from him: and hauing ridden a pretty while, hee looked backe to ſee if the Damoſell followed him, when perceiuing her hard at his horſe heeles, demanded of her whither ſhee trauailed. With thee, anſwered the Damoſell, and neuer will I leaue thee, till I haue found opportunity to requeſt the boone thou didſt promiſe me, which ſhal be the loſſe of thy head by ſome euill death. Me thinkes it were better, ſayde Galaor, for you to take ſome other ſatisfaction of me, and happily might bee more pleaſing to you. Not any thing elſe, quoth ſhee, thy ſoule ſhall accompany his whom thou haſt ſlaine, elſe neuer ſhalt thou accompliſh what thou haſt promiſed mee. Well, well, anſwered Galaor, I muſt ſtand to the hazard of that as I may: thus quarreling, they rode on three dayes together, and entered the Forreſt of Angaduze, an aduenture there happening to them, whereof the Author hereafter maketh mention.

But now he returneth againe to Amadis, who taking his leaue of Vrgandaes Damoſels, as you haue heard before recited: rode on till about noone time, when iſſuing forth of the Forreſt, hee ſaw on a plaine a very faire Caſtell, whereout came a goodly Chariot, ſo brauely equiped as euer he beheld any, it being drawen by two braue red ſteedes, which were couered with imbroydered crimſon ſattin, as it made a very dainty and ſeemely ſhew. The Chariot was guarded by eight armed Knights, yet Amadis being deſirous to ſee who was in it, drew ſomewhat neere to lift vp the rich couering, but one of the Knights came to him with theſe rough wordes: Keepe backe Sir Knight, and bee not ſo bold to come thus neere. What I doe, anſwered Amadis, is for no harme. Whatſoeuer it bee replyed the other, trouble your ſelfe no further, in reſpect you are not worthy to ſee what is here couered: for if you enterpriſe the like againe, it will value your life, becauſe thou muſt deale with all in this troupe, and ſome ſuch one is amongſt vs, as is able alone to get the maiſtrie of thee, more eaſily then may wee altogther vſe thee as we liſt. I know not, ſayd Amadis, the Knights valour you ſpeake of, but hap good or bad, I will ſee what is in the Chariot. Herewith hee tooke his Armes, which the two Knights ſeeing that rode formoſt, they ran both againſt him, the one breaking his Launce, and the other miſſing: but Amadis ſped otherwiſe, for the firſt very eaſily hee caſt from his ſaddle, & the other he threw both horſe and man to the ground. Then Amadis went towarde the Chariot, yet was he ſtayed by two other Knights, one of them being likewiſe diſmounted, and with his ſword hee gaue the other ſuch a welcome on the pate, as hee was glad to keep himſelfe from falling, by catching faſt holde about his horſe necke, when the other foure ſawe their companions ſo vſed by one Knight, they maruailed not a little, and being willing to reuenge their iniury, altogether fiercely charged Amadis. With this laſt aſſault hee found himſelfe ſore combred, for one of them tainted him in the ſhield, and another in his armour, as hee eſcaped hardly from beeing ouerthrowne: notwithſtanding hee held out valiantly, deliuering ſuch ſtroakes to the firſt he met, as hee fell beſide his horſe in a ſwoune. The three that remayned turned their faces, ſeeking which way they might ſooneſt hurt him: but hee ſnatched a Launce from one of them, which yet remayned whole, and met one with ſuch a full carriere, that piercing quite thorough his throate, hee fell to the ground and gaue vp the Ghoſt.

After his death, he came to another of them, and with his ſword ſmote the helmet from his head: when ſeeing hee was a very ancient knight, hauing his head and beard ſo white as ſnowe, mooued with pittie, he friendly thus ſpake. Father, henceforth it were good you left the vſe of armes to younger then your ſelfe, ſeeing you haue liued ſo long without gayning honour or commendation, marry your age doth now excuſe yee. In good faith anſwered the Knight, your ſpeeches are very contrary, becauſe if it bee ſeemely for young men to ſeeke renowne and fame by armes: it is more neceſſarie that an auncient man ſhould doe his endeauour, to maintayne thoſe affaires ſo long as he can. Beleeue me Father, ſayd Amadis, your reaſon is good. While thus they talked together, Amadis ſaw him who was firſt vn-horſed, make great haſt toward the Caſtle, and ſo did the other which were wounded: wherefore hee approached to the Chariot, and lifting vp the couering, beheld there a tombe of Marble, hauing a crowned King figured thereon, clothed in his royall ornaments, yet was his Crowne and part of his head ſome what ſeuered aloofe from the reſt. Hard by ſat a very antient Lady, and neere her a yong Damoſell of moſt excellent beauty, whom very gratiouſly hee ſaluted, ſpeaking to the antient Lady in this manner. I pray ye tell me Madam, what figure is this which you accompanie ſo carefully? What Sir Knight? quoth ſhee, (not knowing her gardants were diſcomfited) who gaue you permiſſion to ſee our ſecrets? None other, ſaid Amadis, then my deſire thus to doe. In good faith, quoth the Lady, this is in you a great part of preſumption, and I meruaile that my Knights would ſuffer it: then putting her head forth of the Chariot, ſhee ſaw ſome of them • laine, others flying to the Caſtle for their ſafeti, & ſom ran after their Horſes that were eſcaped, whereat ſhe was ſo amazed, as ſhe thus cryed out: Ah Knight, curſed be the houre of thy birth, who haſt done me this cruell outrage. Madam, anſwered Amadis, your people aſſayled me: but now may it pleaſe ye to ſatisfie my demand? Neuer ſhalt thou, quoth ſhe, be reſolued therein by me, hauing offered mee ſuch monſtrous abuſe: ſo ſaying, ſhe cauſed the horſes to hie away with the Chariot. Amadis, beholding her ſo agreeued, would trouble her no more but rode on his iourney: then were the dead bodies put into the Chariot, and preſently conueyed into the Caſtle.

Now had the dwarffe heard all that paſſed betweene Amadis and the Lady, but hee knew not what was within the Chariot, wherefore he deſired to know of his Maſter. I cannot tell thee, quoth he, for ſhe would make no anſwere thereof to me. In ſooth, ſaid the Dwarffe, it is ſtrange that women haue learned to hold their peace. As thus they rode beguiling the time, on a ſudden they eſpied the old 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 commandement of the Lady whom you ſaw in the Chariot, and ſhe being willing to make amends for the iniury ſhe did ye, deſires you to take a lodging this night in her Caſtle. Ah Father, replyed Amadis, I found her in ſuch griefe for the debate betweene me and your cōpanions, that I think my prefēce will rather be hurtfull then pleaſing to her. Aſſure your ſelfe, ſaid the knight, your returne will be very acceptable to her. Amadis thinking a knight of ſuch yeeres would haue told no leaſing, was content to goe with him, ſeeing with what affection he coloured his ſpeeches and by the way hee demanded of him, why the pictures head was made in ſuch ſort, but he would tel him nothing, ſaying, the Lady would thorowly reſolue him in all. Beeing come to the Caſtle, he ſaw the Lady and the Damoſell awayting his comming on the bridge, who bad him very heartily welcome. Ladies, quoth he, I would be glad to doe you good, but loath to offend yee. When hee was entered, hee ſaw a great many armed men, who flocking about him, cryed. Yeeld Knight elſe thou art but dead. Nor ſhall you ſaid hee, with my will, keepe me your priſoner. So hee laced his Helmet, but he had no leyſure as yet to take his ſhield, ſo ſharpely was he aſſayled by his enemies: yet did he worthily 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 hee did before. But while hee was thus combatting, he ſaw the Dwarffe and Gandalin carried into priſon, whereat hee conceiued ſuch diſpleaſure, as being exempt from feare of death, he layed ſuch loade on his enemies, that no one durſt come neere him: albeit they were ſo many, as often times hee was in danger to fall on his knees, yet looking for no mercy at ſuch mens hands, would deerely buy his death among them, cauſing diuerſe of them to fall dead at his feete. And the diuine bounty regarding him in pitty, 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 to whom ſhe ſaid. The gallant minde of this Knight moueth me to compaſſion, ſo that I had rather all mine ſhould die, then he, therefore follow me. Why Madam? anſwered the Gentlewoman, what meane ye to doe? Let looſe my Lyons, anſwered the Lady, that they may bee ſcattered, who offer wrong to the beſt Knight in the world: and thou (being my vaſſaile) I command thee preſently to goe let them looſe. Which ſhe duſt not deny, but immediately ſent them forth 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 miſchaunce. The men being all afraide, fled vp and downe to ſhunne the fury of the beaſts, but the Lyons made ſuch ſpeede after them, as diuerſe they ouertooke and rent in pieces. When Amadis ſaw himſelfe thus rid of his enemies, ſeeing the wicket of the Caſtle 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 bloody foes, yet was he ſo ouer-trauailed, as he could hardlie ſuſtaine himſelfe: Wherefore he ſate downe on a ſtone, holding his Sword ſtill ready drawne, a great part whereof was broken, and the Lions being yet ſo hungrie, as they ranne about the Court to ſeeke way into the fields: nor was there any man in the Caſtle ſo hardie, 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, not the wiſeſt of them knew how to remedy it: Except the olde Ladie ſhould intreate the ſtrange Knight to let them forth, imagining becauſe ſhee was a woman, hee would grant her requeſt ſooner then to the reſt But ſhee conſidering her falſe dealing toward him, durſt not aduenture to moue the ſuite: Yet when ſhe beheld it was her laſt refuge, ſhee put her head foorth of the window thus ſpeaking to Amadis. Although (Sir Knight) wee haue intreated ye very hardly, yet let your courteſie excuſe what is paſt: and to ſaue our liues, open the gate that the Lyons may come ſoorth, to the end our preſent feare may be quallifyed, and they raunge the fields as is their deſire. This fauourable kindnes let vs obtaine at your hands, whereby wee ſhall yeeld amends for the wrong wee haue done ye: and on my faith I ſweare to you, our intent was no otherwiſe thē to gaine you our priſoner, vntill you conſented to bee our knight. Madame, anſwered Amadis, you ſhould haue labored your determination by a more honeſt way: for without conſtraint I would willingly haue yeelded my ſelfe, as I haue to diuers Ladies, who knowe full well my ſeruice. Will ye then Sir, quoth ſhe, open the gate? No, replied Amadis: wherewith ſhe went from the window, and the young Lady trembling ſhewed her ſelfe, thus calling to Amadis. Ah gentle Sir, ſuch are within heere, who could not ſuffer the iniurie done to you, the better they deſerue to finde ſome fauour. With ſuch ſeemely modeſty vttered the Ladie 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 a while, till the olde Lady warranted him aſſurance from the reſt of her ſeruants: nor could he but commend her wit and diſcretion, who getting him ſecurity from all the Caſtle, made promiſe likewiſe, that Gandalin and the Dwarffe ſhould be deliuered from impriſonment. Then came the ancient knight, of whom we ſpake before, and calling to Amadis, he ſayd. Becauſe me thinkes (Sir) your Shield is greatly impared, and your ſword in like manner broken, take this ſhield and this mace, wherewith you may defend the Lyons when they come forth: ſo throwing the mace and the ſhield downe, Amadis willingly tooke them vp, returning this anſwere. Let me neuer be ingratefull to them that ſuccor me in neede. By heauen, ſaide the knight, ſeeing you vſe loyaltie to worſe then beaſts, no doubt is to be made of your mercy to reaſonable creatures. Amadis opening the wicket, the Lyons furiouſly ran foorth, and he entred the Caſtle, which they within perceiuing, came with the Ladies to entertaine him, deſiring pardon for their offences committed, and preſenting him Gandalin and the Dwarffe. By my ſoule, ſaide Amadis, neuer was I ſo miſuſed vpon no occaſion, but ſeeing all enmity is ouer-blowne, you muſt giue me a horſe, for your ſeruants (I thanke them) haue flaine mine. Sir knight, anſwered the olde Lady, it is now ſomewhat late, if you pleaſe to vn-arme your ſelfe, and reſt here this night, to morrow you ſhall haue a horſe, or what elſe you neede. In hope you meane no worſe then you ſay, quoth Amadis, I will not refuſe your offer, becauſe the time doth requeſt no leſſe.

Foorth-with was he vnarmed in a ſumptuous chamber, and a coſtly mantle brought to wrap about him, then returning to the Ladyes who attended his comming, they were ſtricken into admiration of his excellent beauty, but much more at his valour being ſo young: and caſting his eye on her, at whoſe entreatance he let foorth the Lions, he reputed her one of the faireſt that euer was ſeene, but he ſpake nothing to her as yet, by reaſon hee proceeded in this manner with the old Lady. I pray yee Madame let mee vnderſtand, why the picture which I ſaw in the Chariot, hath his head ſo ſeperated. Sir Knight, quoth ſhe, if you will promiſe to accompliſh 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, replied Amadis, to promiſe any thing ouer-lightly, being ignorant to what it may relate: but if you will let me heare the couenants, they ſeeming reaſonable, and in compaſſe of a Knights power to execute, feare not to tell me, for I will imploy my vttermoſt therein. You haue reaſon, anſwered the Lady: then cauſing each one to with-draw, except the faire young virgin, ſhe thus began. Vnderſtand gentle Sir, that the figure of ſtone you behelde, was made in the remembrance of this Ladyes father, who lyeth entombed in the Chariot, being in his time a crowned King, but on an eſpeciall feſtiuall day, as he helde open Court and royall, hee was aſſailed by his brother the vnckle to this mayden, who came to tell him, that the Crowne hee wore was his, by as good right as hee could clame it, they being both iſſued from one roote. Then drawing a ſword, which he had hid vnder his mantle, gaue him ſuch a ſtroake therewith 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, hee confederated himſelfe ſecretly with certaine of the Kings ſeruants, by whoſe meanes he waxed the ſtronger in his enterpriſe. But the King being dead, this diſloyall wretch was honoured with the Crowne, for the murdered Prince had no other heire then this his faire daughter, whom the aged Knight that brought you hither had in guard, he ſhewing him-ſelfe ſo faithfull to her, as he conuaied her thence ere her vnckle could take her, & performed ſuch painefull dilligence, that hee brought my orpha • ne Neece hither for her better ſaiety. Afterward finding the meane to recouer the body of the King her father, each day we put into our Chariot, riding there with about the fields as you ſaw vs, we hauing all ſollemnely ſworne not to ſhew it to any one, vnleſſe by force of armes we ſhould be compelled thereto: and though ſuch a one happened to ſee 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 part, I will continue as I begun, vntill I finde two other Knights on this behalfe, that you three for vs may confoūd the traitour and his two ſons, who will alow no combate, vnleſſe they fight altogether, which they haue often publiſhed abroade: 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 famous iniurie that euer I heard of, and he who hath done it, ſurely cannot long endure without 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 diſpatch th • m. Ah ſir, quoth ſhe, they will neuer conſent hereto. What would you haue me do then? (replyed Amadis.) Mary if it ſtand with your liking, ſaid the Lady, a yeere 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, ſaid Amdis, not to faile in this requeſt, therfore neuer trouble your ſelfe to ſeeke other twaine, becauſe I meane to bring them with mee, yea, ſuch as ſhall well defend the right of this Lady, and reuenge the treaſon done the king her Father. Theſe words he ſpake in reſpect he hoped ere then to find his brother Galaor, and intended to bring his Cozin Agraies with him, by whoſe aſſiſtance he doubted not to finiſh the enterprize. Right humbly the Ladies thanked him for his good will, and becauſe, quoth they, they whom you muſt deale withall are valiant, rough, & expert in Arms, as any the circle of the world enioyeth: wee requeſt your choice may be made of ſuch Knights, as ſhall be able to run through this worke▪ Beleeue me Ladies, anſwered Amadis, if I had found one I am in ſearch of, I would not ſtand long ſtudying for the third, were our enemies Diuels and no Men. Tell vs then gentle Sir, ſaid the Lady, if you pleaſe, of what Countrey you are, and where we may finde you in time of our need? Madame, quoth he, I am of King Liſuarts Court, Knight and ſeruant to his Queene Briſana.

By this time was ſupper ready, and the tables couered, wherefore they brake off talke and went into a very faire Hall, where ſuch good cheere and honour was made him, as might be deuiſed, euen vntill the houre of reſt came. The good night being giuen on all ſides, by the Damoſell that let looſe the Lyons, hee was conducted to his chamber, where ſhe kept him company an indifferent while, and among other ſpeeches, ſhe vttered this. You haue her neere you my Lord, who ſuccoured you this day more then you imagine. Wherein faire Lady? anſwered Amadis. My ſelfe, quoth ſhe by commandement of the young Princeſſe, ſhe pittying your perill and the wrong offered you: was charged to let looſe the Lions from their Denne. I neuer ſaw, replied Amadis, a more wiſe and diſcreete Lady of her yeares. In ſooth, ſaid the Damoſel, if ſhe liue, ſhe ſhal be endued with two extremities, the one in beauty, and the other in wiſedome. I deſire ye, quoth Amadis, to thanke her moſt humbly on my behalfe, and how in acknowledging the good ſhe did me, henceforth I will remayne her Knight. I am wel content my Lord, anſwered the Damoſell, to carry her this meſſage, becauſe I know it will bee moſt wel-come to her: ſo bidding him good night, ſhe departed the chamber. Now was Gandalin and the Dwarff 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 new affection was kindled betweene the young Princeſſe and him, in reſpect of the offer he made to bee her Knight. And to ſuch end did he retaine this opinion, as wofull Amadis after-ward had ſmall ioy thereof: for hereby he thought to receiue a cruell death, as in continuance of this Hiſtory ſhall be declared. The night being ſpent & bright day appearing, Amadis came to bid the Ladies farewell, requeſting to know their names againſt whom he ſhould combat. The Father, quoth the Lady, is named Abiſeos, his eldeſt ſonne, Darriſon, and the other Dramis, all 3. moſt valiant Gentlemen atarms, excelling al other in that countrey: which likewiſe is commonly called Sabradiſa, confining on the Kingdome of Serolys. Very well replied Amadis, by Gods leaue we ſhall one day ſee what they can do. When he was armed, as he mounted on a luſty courſer, the ancient Lady had giuen him, the young Princeſſe preſented him a goodly Sword, which ſometime belonged to the King her Father, ſaying. Sir Knight, I pray ye henceforth (for my ſake) to weare this Sword ſo long as it will laſt, and I ſhall pray it may be helpefull to you in all your affaires. I aſſure ye faire Ladie, anſwered Amadis, for your ſake will I carefully keepe it, and thanke you therefore with all my heart: hereof likewiſe ye may be perſwaded, that I remaine to obey you, and ſhal aide you in all things concerning your eſtate and honour. Well might it be diſcerned in the Lady, how theſe humble thankes and his former offer, pleaſed her not a little, wherefore the Dwarffe, (who noted the geſtures on eyther ſide) ſoftly ſaid to her, Madame, you haue this day made no ſmall conqueſt, hauing ſo good a knight at your commandement.

CHAP. XXIII.

How Amadis departed from the Ladies Caſtle, and of the matters which were occurrent to him by the way.

AMadis being gone from the Ladies Caſtle, rode on without finding any aduenture, till he entered the Forreſt of Angaduze, and the Dwarffe riding ſomewhat before, ſaw a farre off, a Knight and a Damoſel cōming toward them. When the Knight came right againſt the Dwarffe, hee drew his ſword to offer him outrage: but he ſtarted aſide, ſo that the blow lighted on his ſhoulders, wherewith he was in ſuch feare, as he fell downe from his horſe, crying out for help to his Maiſter, who ſeeing when he ſmote him, made haſt for his defence, thus ſpeaking to the Knight. What mooues you (Sir) to wrong my Dwarffe without cauſe: now truſt mee it is but ſimple man-hood, to lay hand on ſuch an excrement of nature as hath no defence of himſelfe, but being in my guard the preſumtion 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 Damoſel. Sooner ſaid Amadis, ſhalt thou looſe thine own. So encoūtred they together, with ſuch force, as they were both caſt beſide their horſes: yet quickly recouering themſelus, they began a moſt ſharpe and cruell combate with their Swords. Now were they in greater danger of their perſons, then euer they had beene before, for their Shields being ſliced in peeces, their ſwords coloured with their blood, their Armor broken, their helmets battered, and them-ſelues ſo ſore laboured: as they were conſtrained to draw back a while to take breath, when the knight that conducted the Damoſell thus ſpake to Amadis. My frend you may iudge the danger wherein we both may fall, if longer we continue the Combat: therefore I pray ye let mee haue my will on the Dwarffe, and I will amend the offence afterward, if it may bee tearmed an offence to you. What? ſaid Amadis, doe you thinke me of ſuch ſlender ſtomacke, as that I will ſuffer any thing of mine to bee wronged in my preſence? not ſo, I muſt and will defend him to the vtter-moſt. And I muſt needes haue his head, anſwered the Knight. By Heauen quoth Amadis, one of ours ſhall firſt acquit him and that immediately. Herewith they charged each other againe, with ſuch wonderfull courage appearing in eyther, as ſeuerall deſire to gaine the honor of the combat, made them ſhew extream violence one againſt another: ſo that the beſt reſolued of them both thought to die, by aboundance of blood which iſſued from infinite wounds on his body, eſpecially the Damoſels champion, who thought he felt himſelfe greatly impairing, yet made he no ſhew thereof, but held out with ſuch braue viuacity of ſpirit, as his enemy found he had a hard taske in hand.

At this inſtant an other knight chanced to paſſe by, who ſeeing the combattants ſo • ierce againſt each other, determined to expect who ſhould depart with victorie: and placing himſelfe by the Damoſell, demanded if ſhee knew them, or the cauſe of their quarrel, I muſt needes know them anſwered the Damoſell, becauſe I ſet them together as you ſee, and this good hap is not a little pleaſing to mee: for it is impoſſible but one of them muſt die, nor doe I greatly care which of them it be, but if both end together, my ioyes would bee the greater. Now truſt me, ſaid the Knight, full well doe you manifeſt a wicked diſpoſition, practiſing (for your pleaſure) the death of two ſuch braue men, whoſe health and ſafety 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 ſhielde is moſt defaced, is the onely man of the world, to whom mine Vncle Arcalaus wiſheth moſt harme, he being named Amadis. And the other that combats with him, is Galaor, who not long ſince, ſlew the chiefeſt man I loued. It ſo fel out, that Galaor here • ofore 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 fuch a one, as will hardly permit him to eſcape with life. For I knew the other to bee one of the beſt Knights in the World, on whom this Dwarffe (which you ſee) attendeth: I therefore deſired Galaor to giue the little villaines head, being perſwaded Amadis would rather die then ſuffer it. Thus the one to deliuer me my requeſt, and the other for his Dwarffes defence, are fallen into the extreamitie of their liues, which doth me good at the heart to behold. By my conſcience Damoſell, replyed the Knight, I neuer thought ſuch malice had remained in a woman of your ſort, and I beleeue aſſuredly (being yet ſo yong) if longer you liue, you will accuſtome your ſelf to ſuch vilainie as this you begin withall: whereby you ſhall infect the ayre and the other elements, to the diſaduantage of the honeſt and vertuous Ladies liuing at this day. But to ſhielde them from ſuch danger, and theſe two good Knights, whom treacherouſly thou wouldeſt ſhould kill each other, I will make a Sacrifice of thee 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 horſe feete, ſaying. Take the reward of thy merits, for the loue I beare to thine Vnckle Arcalaus, who kept me his priſoner, till the vertuous Knight Amadis deliuered me: then running to the combatants, he cryed out aloud: Holde Lord Amadis, hold your hand, for the man you fight againſt is your brother Galaor. When Amadis heard theſe words, he threw down his Sword and Shield to the earth, and embracing Galaor, ſaid. Alas my friend, 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 knee, he fell downe likewiſe, deſiring pardon, reputing himſelfe wonderfull vnfortunate, in wronging thus his Lord and brother: then Amadis weeping with inward conceite of ioy, thus anſwered. Noble brother, and my friend, I eſteeme the paſſed perill well imployed, becauſe it beareth witnes of what we are able to doe. So taking off their helmets to refreſh themſelues, they heartily thanked the Knight that rhus cauſed their acquaintance: whereupon he told them all what the Damoſell ſaid, & the execution hee committed on her. Now truſt me, quoth Galaor, neuer was falſe ſtrumpet more rightly ſerued, and now am I diſchargd of the promiſe I made her. All the better for mee, ſaid the Dwarffe, and thereby haue I ſaued my head: yet I meruaile why ſhee 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 friend, as you haue heard already rehearſed: but the Knight that ſeperated them, ſeeing their Armour all couered with blood, thus ſpake to them. My Lords, your Armours deliuer teſtimony enough, how diſcourteouſly your Swords haue intreated your bodies, wherefore me thinks long tarrying in this place, will but endanger your wounds: let me requeſt ye then to mount on horſeback, and accompany me to the Caſtle, whether you ſhall not onely be welcome, but finde helpe for your hurts by one skilfull therein. Wee will not refuſe your gentle offer, ſaid 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 mee from the cruell impriſonmēt, as neuer poor knight endured the like. Where was it I pray? replied Amadis. At the caſtle, quoth he, of Arcalaus the enchanter, whē you reſtored ſo many to liberty. How are you named? ſaid Amad •… lays▪ anſwered the Knight, and becauſe my Caſtle is cleped Carſanta, I am often tearmed Balays of Carſanta, therefore my Lords vſe mee and mine as your owne. Brother, ſaid Galaor, ſeeing the Knight reputeth himſelfe ſo much bounden to you, let vs goe with him.

In ſhort time they arriued at the Caſtle of Balays, where they found Gentlemen and Ladeies 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 honourably, and brought into a goodly chamber to bee vnarmed, where likewiſe ſtood two coſtly beds, and a table furniſhed with ſoueraigne medicins for their wounds, the cure whereof, two Ladies (being Neeces to Balays) vndertooke, for they were very learnedly skilled in Chirurgery. Now did they imploy their vttermoſt cunning, to recōpence Amadis for his worthy pains, in reſtoring their Vnckle from the ſlauerie of Arcalaus: ſo that within few daies, they felt themſelues indifferently amended, and almoſt able to beare their Armour as they did before. Here-upon, Amadis comming with his brother Galaor, declared how to ſeeke him, he departed, from the Court of King Liſuart, promiſing not to returne without his company: wherefore he intreated him to yeelde no den • all, in reſpect no Princes Court was better frequented with Chiualrie, nor could he finde more honour in any other place. My Lord, quoth Galaor, I intend to accompliſh what you pleaſe to command me, albeit I deſire not as yet to be knowne among men of account: firſt would I haue my deedes giue ſome witneſſe, how deſirous I am to imitate your proceedings, or elſe to die in this religious affection. Certes brother, anſwered Amadis, for this matter you neede not abandon the place, ſeeing your renown is already 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 deedes, no, not ſo much as in thought, am I able to reach the height of ſuch honour. Leaue we then this talke, ſaid Amadis, for our kingly father maketh no difference of vertue betweene vs: but will ye know what I haue preſently deuiſed? I ſee well we muſt ſtay here longer for our health, then otherwiſe we would, for which tauſe I intend if you thinke good, to ſend my Dwarff 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 Doe as you pleaſe, anſwered Galaor. Preſently was the Dwarffe diſpatched thence, who made ſuch good ſpeed in his iourney, as within few dayes he arriued at Windſore, where King Liſuart was then accompanied with many good Knights.

CHAP. XXIIII.

How King Liſuart being in the chaſe, ſaw a •… e off three Knights armed comming toward him, and what followed thereupon.

IT chanced on a certaine day, that King Liſuart ſummoned a meeting in Windſore Forreſt, which was well ſtored with red Deere, and all other game needefull for hunting. And as he was in chaſe of a Hart, hee eſpied a good diſtance from him, three armed Knights 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 neere him, he quickly knew Galuanes, becauſe he had ſeen him many times before: when embracing him, the King bad him hartily welcom, and the reſt in his company likewiſe, for he was a Prince, that moſt graciouſly entertayned all Knights, eſpecially ſtrangers: then hee demanded what the other were. My Lord, quoth Galuanes, this young Prince is my Nephew Agraies, ſon to the king of Scottes, and one of the beſt Knights in the world I dare aſſure ye: the other is Oliuas, whom your Maieſty hath well knowne heretofore. The King embraced them very louingly, ſaying to Agraies: Faire Cozin, I muſt needes take this gentleneſſe very kindely, that you would voutchſafe to ſee me. As for you ſir Oliuas, I thought you had forgotten vs, confidering the long time ſince you were here: and in ſooth it is a matter very diſpleaſant to mee, when ſo good a Knight as you are would ſo abſent himſelfe. Dread Lord, anſwered Oliuas, my earneſt affaires kept mee hence againſt my will, which hath made me the more negligent in your ſeruice: and yet I am not free from them, as (if you pleaſe) I ſhall let ye vnderſtand. Then he reported, how Galuanes and Agraies came to his Caſtle, by meanes of the Damoſell that conducted them thither, whom they very worthily deliuered from death: likewiſe how the Duke of Briſtoya treacherouſly ſlew his Cozin, for which hee humbly craued Iuſtice, with free liberty to combat 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 highly diſcontented for he knew Oliuas Cozin to bee a good Knight, whereupon he thus anſwered. Beleeue mee ſeeing the Duke hath committed ſuch a fault, & 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 3▪ knights to his court, conferring on many matters by the way: among which the King demanded of Galuanes, why the Duke of Briſtoya would haue burned the Damoſell whom they reskued. 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 hee to alledge. Why? ſaid the king, Amadis is gone to ſeeke Galaor, but ſince his departure wee were put in a terrible feare, by A • calaus, who ſaid hee had ſl • ine him. But are you certaine ſir, anſwered Agraies, that he liueth? Yea indeede, quoth the king, Brand • yuas and Grindalo • a came hither ſince then, and they gaue vs ſuch credible teſtimony of his welfare, as I may full well aſſure ye thereof: for loth am I to offend any other, becauſe no one can deſire his good and honour more then I doe. It is the argument af your good nature replyed Agraies, likewiſe in reſpect of his bounty and valour, hee 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 Court, where theſe news were quickly brought to the Queene, which reioyced very many, eſpecially faire Oliui • , who loued Agraies deere • then her ſelfe, and the Princeſſe Mabila his ſiſter was not ſorry: for as ſhee came from the Queenes chamber, ſhe met Oliuia, who thus ſpake to het. You cannot chuſe (Madam) but bee well pleaſed with your Brothers comming. Very true, quoth Mabila, for I loue him as mine owne heart. Deſire then I pray ye the Queene, ſaid Oliuia, to ſend for him to her chamber, to the end we may haue the meane to confer with him together, ſo ſhall the pleaſure of you both be fully ſatisfied. That ſhall I doe, anſwered Mabila, ſo going to the Queenes chamber, ſhe thus ſpake to her Maieſty. It were good (Madam) you ſhould ſee my brother and mine Vnckle Galu •• es, in reſpect they are come hither to honour you with the • r ſeruice. Sweete friend, ſaid the Queene, I take it very gently that you haue ſo well adu • ſed me, for I promiſe ye I am very deſirous to ſee them: wherewith ſhe ſent one of her Ladies to the King, deſiring him that they m • g • t come to her, which he liking very well, ſaid. Gentlemen, my Queene is deſirous to ſee you all three, let me then requeſt your conſent herein. You muſt iudge if Agraies liked this motiō, becauſe he certainely knew to finde there, the princeſſe Oliuia, the choice Lady and Miſtreſſe of his heart. But when they came among the Ladies, their entertainement was good and gracious, eſpecially by the Queene herſelfe, who cauſed them to ſit downe by her, as meaning matter of more priuate conference. Many familiar ſpeeches were enter courſed betweene them, and practiſing by all meanes to welcom them honourably: for ſhe was the onely Queene of the world that ſooneſt could win the hearts of Gentlemen, and therein tooke no little pleaſure, by means where-of, ſhe was loued of moſt and leaſt, being reputed the moſt vertuous Lady liuing.

Now had Oliuia made choice of her place next Mabila, thinking Agraies would ſooneſt come to his ſiſter when he left the Queene: but while hee beguiled the time with her, his eye glanced on the obiect of his heart, which he being vnable to diſſemble, was compelled to a ſodaine alteration of countenance, and could not withdraw his lookes from the Adamant of his thonghts: which the Queene ſomwhat 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, will ye not ſee your ſiſter whom you loue ſo deerly? Yes Madam, quoth he, • o it pleaſe you to giue me l •… with he aroſe and came 〈…〉 who ſtepping forward to meet him you muſt think Oliuia was not one iote behinde her, but welcōmed him both with ſemblable reuerence. But Oliuia louing him as you haue heard, (ouermaſtring her will with reaſon, as a moſt wiſe & well aduiſed Princeſſe) gaue little in outward ſhew: till after ſundry amiable ſpeeches paſſing betweene them three, they had ſome leyſure to ſtand a while aſunder from all the reſt. Yet did Agrates keep 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 anſwere to his ſiſter. She being 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 ſuddaine mutation, perceiuing that Oliuia and her brother were ſurprized with each others loue. Whereupon ſhe thought it beſt to fauor them with more libery, feigning a deſire to ſpeake with her Vnckle Galuanes, which ſhe prettily coloured in this manner. Brother, quoth ſhe, I pray ye intreate the Queene that my Vnckle may come hither, becauſe it is long time ſince I ſaw him, and I haue, ſome that to acquaint him with all ſecretly. I hope to obtaine ſo much of her, anſwered Agrates: whereupon he went to the Queene & thus ſpake. Madam, if you could, ſpare mine vnckle a little, you might doe his Neece a very great pleaſure, for ſhe is deſirous to talke with him. And reaſon good, ſaid the Queene: at which words Galuanes went with him, which Mabila ſeeing, ſhe humbly met him, making great reuerence, when Galuanes vſing the like to her, began in this manner. Fayre Neece, I am glad to ſee you in ſuch good diſpoſition: but tell me I pray ye, do you like Scotland or this Countrey better? We ſhall confer, quoth ſhe, more conueniently at the window, becauſe I haue many things to tell ye which were needeleſſe for my brother to vnderſtand: nor ſhall he, they being of ſuch importance as they are. Theſe words ſhee vttered ſmiling, and with a marueilous good grace: cheefely becauſe her brother might court his friend alone. And well ſaid Neece, anſwered Galuanes, our ſecrets are ſo great, as they muſt needes bee kept from him. So taking her by the hand, they went aſide to one of the windowes, by meanes whereof, Agraies and Oliuia were left alone: When the Prince perceiuing hee had liberty to ſpeake, trembling in aboundance of affection, he began thus. Madam, to accompliſh your commandement when you parted from mee, as alſo to ſatisfie my heart which neuer enioyeth reſt, but in the gratious contentment, conueyed thereto through mine eyes by your preſence, I am come hither to ſerue and obey you: aſſuring you on my Faith, that being neere your perſon, my ſpirits feele themſelues viuified in ſuch ſort, as they ſuffer with great ſtrength the anguiſhes of continuall affection, which makes them dead in time of your abſence. Therefore I deſire ye (if it bee your pleaſure) to limit mee ſome better hap hereafter, in place where I may often ſee and doe you ſeruice: And as hee would haue proceeded further, Oliuia interrupted him in this manner. Alas my Lord, I am ſo aſſured of the loue you beare me, and alſo of the griefe you endure, we being abſent one from another: as no other proofe is required, then what mine owne heart doth plainely teſtifie, ſmothering a diſpleaſure worſe then death it ſelfe: whereto oftentimes I could very gladly ſubmit my ſelfe, did not a cheerefull hope rebacke this deſpaire, how one day our loue ſhall meet together with happy contentation. And perſwade your ſelfe, that I daily trauaile in remē brance of our mutuall loue: meane while (ſweete friend) remporize and diſmay not. Miſtreſſe, ſayde Agrates you haue already ſo boūd me to you, as I muſt (in duty) temporize till time you pleaſe, but I deſire yee to conſider, how I haue no forces, but ſuch as you muſt fortifie mee withall: ſo that if you continue your graces to me as you haue begun, I ſhall haue ſtrength to ſerue according to your deſerts. While I liue my Lord, quoth ſhe, neuer will I faile yee, be you then ſo well aduiſed, as euery one may loue and eſteeme yee: whereby I may ſtriue to loue you more then any other can, in reſpect you are none of theirs, or your owne, but mine onely. And if it happen ſome to ſpeake of you, you muſt thinke I receiue incomprehenſible ioy therein, for it cannot bee without recital of your haughty courage & chiualry: yet my heart dreading the dangerous occurrences, which may enſue by ouer bold venturing, accompanieth the former pleaſure with as great a paine. Agraies abaſhed to heare himſelfe ſo praiſed, vayled his lookes, and ſhee loath to offend him, altred her ſpeech, demanding what hee was determined to doe. On my faith, Madam, quoth he, I wil do nothing but what you pleaſe to cōmand me I will then, ſayd Oliuia, that hence-forth you keep company with your Coſen Amadis, for I knowe hee loueth you intirely, and if he counſell you to bee one of this Court, deny it not. Beleeue me (Madam) anſwered Agrayes, both you and ſuch good counſelling will I obey: for ſetting your diuine ſelfe aſide, there is no man liuing whom I wil more credite with mine affaires, then my honourable Coſen Amadis.

At theſe words the Queene called him and Galuanes likewiſe, hauing hnowledge of him in her fathers kingdome of Denmark, where hee performed 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 auncient acquaintance, at which inſtant the Princeſſe Oriana came to them, wherefore Agraies aroſe to ſalute her, leauing Galuanes with the Queene, and ſetled himſelfe to conferre with Oriana: who entertayned him maruailous kindely, as well for Amadis ſake whom hee loued, as alſo the curteſie hee 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. Coſen, we haue daily deſired your preſence heere, eſpecially your ſiſter, who not many dayes ſince was in great grief, by falſe newes that came hither of Amadis death your kinſeman, as truly you would haue wondered therat. Good reaſon had ſhe Madam, quoth Agraies, to be ſorrowful, and not ſhe alone, but all the reſt of his linage were bound to no leſſe: knowing when our Coſen 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 beene auenged and accompanied with many other. Ah, ſayde ſhe, the villaine Arcalaus ſhrewdly affrighted vs, and euill death betide him, for troubling this royall Court in this ſorte.

By this time the King was ready to the table, wherefore he ſent for the three knights from the Queen, commanding them to ſit downe by him in company of many great Lords and Barrons. And as the ſeruice came in, two Knights entred the hall, who falling on their knees before the King, the firſt of thē thus ſpake. God proſpet your Maieſtie with increaſe of ioy and honor, moſt humbly I deſire to know, if Amadis of Gaule be in this Court. Not at this preſent, anſwered the King, but we could wiſh he were heere. Right glad would I be, ſayd the Knight, to finde him, becauſe by his meanes I hope to recouer what I am now farre from. Tell vs my friend, quoth the King, if you pleaſe, who you are. My Lord, replied the ſtranger, I am a ſad Knight named Angrioted' Eſtranaus, and this other is my brother, when King Arban of Norwales (who was there preſent) heard him ſpeake of Angriote, hee ſtarted from the table, and ſtepping to the King, ſayde. Doth not your Maieſtie know Sir Angriote? ſuch as haue dealt with him, wil ſay he is one of the beſt knights in your Kingdome. My friend, quoth the king to Angriote, I pray you ariſe and pardon me, if I haue not honoured you according to your deſerts: for the fault was only cō mitted through ignorance, but be ſure you are welcome & that with heart, but ſay I deſire ye, how came you acquainted with Amadis. My Lord, replyed Angriote, I haue knowne him no long time, and my firſt ac quaintance was very deerely bought, for I neuer thought to dye till I was wounded: but he that did me the harme, promiſed after-ward to giue me help, which is very needfull now to cure me: hereto he added the whole accidēt as you heard it before. In ſooth, ſayde 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: whom Angriote knowing, called him, demanding where he had left his Maiſter, becauſe he ſaw him laſt in his company. Sir, quoth the Dwarffe, whereſoeuer I haue left him, hee maketh good account of you: then falling on his knee before the King, hee thus began. Amadis my Lord humbly ſaluteth your maieſtie, and all the reſt of his friends in this Court. Dwarffe, ſayd the king, where didſt thou leaue him? In ſuch a place my Lord, quoth the dwarffe, where he is of good cheere: but if you would knowe any more, it muſt be in the preſence of the Queene. With right good will, anſwered the King, and heereupon ſent preſently for the Queene, ſhee quickly comming, being attended on by diuers beautifull Ladyes, the moſt part of them the amourous friends 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 Queen preſent, thus proceeded. Madame, my Lord and maſter Amadis in all humble reuerence ſaluteth your excellency, commanding mee to tell ye, that he hath found Prince Galaor his brother hee ſought for. Now truſt me, ſaid the Queene, I am heartily glad thereof. But on my credit Madame, quoth the Dwarffe, neuer was heard of ſuch a perillous meeting of two brethren, for if God had not the better prouided, both the one and the other had neuer beene ſeene againe, ſo neere were they both at the point of death: but by hap a good Knight arriued there, who names himſelfe Balays, and hee found the meanes to agree them. Then tolde hee all the whole accident, how Balays ſlew the Damoſel that procured their quarrell, for which, Balays was highly commended of them all. But where haſt thou left them replyed the Queene? At the Caſtle of Carſanta Madame, ſayde the Dwarffe, where Balays dwelleth, frō whence I was diſpatched hither with this meſſage. But tel me Dwarff, quoth the Queene, what thinkeſt thou of Galaor? I thinke Madame anſwered the Dwarffe, that hee is one of the goodlieſt knights in the world, carrying a reſolution not one iot inferiour to the beſt: and did you ſee him in company of my Lord, you could make little difference betweene them.

I maruaile ſaide the Queene that they come not hither. Aſſure your ſelfe, replied the Dwarffe, no ſooner ſhall they recouer health, but they will be here with you, for ſo they expreſly cōmanded me to tell yee. So ioyfull was the King hereof, that he minded to keepe open Court after they were come: commanding his Lords & Barons not to depart his Court, whereto they all willingly cōdeſcended. He likewiſe deſired the Queen, to ſend for all the chiefe Ladies in the Realme: For the more honorably quoth hee, you are attended on by Ladies, the more Knights ſhall they finde heere to deſerue their loue, on whom I will beſtow many rich gifts and preſents.

CHAP. XXV.

How Amadis, Galaor, and Balays determined to trauaile to King Liſuart, and what aduentures happened by the way betweene them.

SO long ſoiourned Amadis and Galaor, at the Caſtle of Balays of Carſanta, as their wounds beeing thorowly healed: they intended to returne to King Liſuarts Court, before they would enterpriſe any other aduenture. Balays who deſired to beare them company, for the familiar acquaintance he had now with them: intreated them to afford him ſo much fauour, where-with they were very well cōtented. Departing thence, they rid toward Windſor, and after they had iournied fiue dayes, they came into a foure corned way, 〈…〉 the middeſt whereof ſtood a tree, 〈…〉 vnder it a dead Knight lay on a rich bed, with great waxe tapers ſtanding burning at the boulſter and feete; which notwithſtanding any great winde could not be extinguiſhed. The dead knight was vnarmed, & not couered with any thing, wherfore eaſily might a great many wounds be deſerned on his head, and a trounchion of a Lance, peirced with the iron quite through his necke and throate: beſide, in ſuch manner did the dead Knight holde vp his hands thereon, as if he would haue pulled foorth the Lance. Greatly was Amadis and the reſt amazed hereat, and faine they would know what the knight ſhold bee, but they could ſee no body of whom they might enquire, nor any place neere that was inhabited, which moued Amadis thus to ſpeake. Doubtleſſe without ſome great occaſion, this knight was not brought into this place, beeing alone and furniſhed in this ſtrange manner: if wee ſtay heere a while, ſome aduenture or other muſt needes enſue thereon. And ſo think I, anſwered Galaor, whereupon hee thus ſpake. Brother, this raſh oath, ſome-what diſpleaſeth me, for I doubt it will be an occaſion of our long tarying in this place. What I haue ſaid, anſwered Galaor, is done: with theſe words he alighted from his horſe, and ſate downe at the dead knights feete: which the other twaine perceiuing, concluded not to leaue him, but euen to take ſuch part as he did.

Now was it between noone and euening, when they being thus diſmounted, might at more eaſe viſite the wounds of the dead man: and Amadis ſeeing his hands on the trunchion in his throate, confounded with griefe and maruaile, hee ſayd. Doubtleſſe hee yeelded his ſpirite as he now holdes his hands, becauſe they ſtill remaine in the place. And as they were thus communing together, they heard a great noyſe of ſome comming toward them, when preſently they eſpied a knight and two Squires, the one bearing a ſhielde and helmet, and the other driuing a Damoſell before him, ſhe giuing many ſhreekes and out-cryes, becauſe the knight ſmote her often with the end of his Launce: and thus they paſſed by the bed where the dead knight lay, when the Damoſell ſawe the three knights by the coatſe, cryed Ah good knight who lyeth on the bed, wert thou aliue, I am ſure thou wouldeſt not ſuffer me to bee thus cruelly handled, if hazarding thy body in a thouſand perrils might defend me: would God the death of theſe villaines had excuſed thine. Sayſt thou ſo? quoth the knightt that vſed her ſo hardly, and thou ſhalt know the price of thy words: then ſmote her with his Lance 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 grieuing to beholde, ſaid to his companions. In ſooth, neuer did I ſee ſuch a bad minded knight, to out-rage a poor Damoſell in ſuch pittifull manner: but (if God be my guide) he ſhall not long abuſe her ſo. Therefore brother, quoth he to Galaor, if I tarry too long, ſet forward I pray ye to Windſore with Balays, and I will come thither with what ſpeede I may: thē mounting on horſe-back, hee commanded 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 till night, which being very darke, they could not ſee, but heard a knight come riding the ſame way which Amadis took, who complaning of griefe in his legge, lay holding himſelfe about his horſe necke, but when hee eſpied Galaor and Balays, he demanded if they knew the knight that rid ſo faſt the ſame way he came. Why aske you? anſwered Galaor. Becauſe ſayd the knight, I would hee might breake his necke, for hee runneth ſo rudely, as if hee followed ſome Diuell. What rudeneſſe hath hee offered you? anſwered Galaor. He would not tell mee, quoth the knight, neither by entreatance or other curteous meane, why hee made ſuch haſte: and I ſeeing him ſo ſelfe willed, layde holde on his horſe bridle, reſolued to make him pay for his boldnes, and to ſatisfie me either by friendſhip or force. Well, anſwered Balays, what did hee there tell ye? Nothing to my demand replyed the knight, but peremtorily thus ſpake. That hee would tarry no longer to tell mee, except I firſt combated with him. Hereupon we charged each other, he giuing me ſuch a ſhrewde puſh with his Lance, as I and my horſe were tombled quite ouer, and in the fall I brake my legge as you may beholde. When Galaor and Balays heard his reporte, knowing full well hee ſpake of Amidis, they fell into a great laughter, ſaying. In good faith now are you taught againſt another time, not to bee ouer importunate to knowe any thing againſt a mans will. Belike you mocke me then, anſwered the knight, and truſt mee you may happen to repent it: then comming neere Galaors horſe, hee gaue him ſuch a blowe on his noſe, as making him furiouſly to break his bridle, gaue him liberty likewiſe to run about the field, and thinking he was not reuenged enough, ſought how to ſerue Balays horſe in the ſame ſorte, but they both ſtepped between with their Lances, & kept him off: which the knight perceiuing, giuing the ſpurs to his horſe, he rode away, ſaying. If I had ſped the other knight ſo well, I would haue thought my ſelfe halfe recō penced: learne you then to ſcorne me another time. Is it true, ſaid Balays, and God neuer help me in my need, if I make thee not leaue thy horſe for the other thou haſt ſent raunging. Preſently he leapt into his ſaddle, deſiring Galaor to ſtay for him til morning, for then at the vttermoſt he hoped to returne.

By theſe accidents is Galaor left alone, attending newes of the matter he vowed: for hee had ſent his Squire to recouer his horſe, which by mishap tooke his way into a thicke woode. In meane while the greater part of the night is ſpent, & Galaor could enioy no reſt, through extreame affection after his enterpriſe: but about breake of day hee found his ſpirits ſo ouer-watched, as (whether he would or no) he was complled to take off his helmet & ſhield, and leaning on them forgot himſelfe ſo much that when hee awaked, hee neither ſaw the candles burning, or the dead knight which lay on the bed, whereat he became ſo ſorrowful, as he entred into theſe complaints. Well I perceiue, that I am vnworthy ſo high an enterpriſe, ſeeing ſo fondly I haue fayled in ſuch an eaſy matter. Now ſee I how Fortune (through this my ſioathfulnes) ſcorneth the little fauour ſhe ſhewed mee at the beginning: and well may ſhe do ſo, ſeeing I would ſo careleſly fall aſleep, at ſuch a time as ſhe commanded me to watch. But ſeeing I haue ſo wilfully offended, I will amend it by an anſwerable penance: for I will recouer on foote with the trauel of my body, the murdered man carried from me in my ſleep. Then followed he the track of their feet, whom he imagined had conuayed thence the Knight, and walking on warily, as loth to faile thereof, he heard the neighing of a horſe: which made him ſhape his courſe thither-ward, albeit hee could diſerne nobody, yet paſſed he further, becauſe hee heard the like noiſe of other horſes. Not far had he gone, but he eſpied two Knights armed, one of them being alighted from his horſe, & reading cert • ine letters engrauen on a ſtone, after-ward he ſayde to his companions. In vaine did they make mee come to this place, for I vnderſtand not one word of them: wherewith hee mounted againe, and they rode away not ſeeing Galaor, but hee called to them, ſaying. Gentlemen, can ye tell me who hath caryed away a dead knight, who not long ſince, lay vnder a tree in the foure cornered ſtreete behinde? Verily, anſwered one of them, wee knowe nothing thereof, but about mid-night we ſaw three Damoſels paſſe by, and ten Squires with them conducting a litter. Which way did they take? ſaid Galaor. This on the left hand, replied the knight▪ ſo giuing them thankes, he went the ſame way he was directed, & ſoon after ſaw a Damoſell comming toward him, to whom he ſaid. It may be (Lady) you can tell me who hath caryed 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 griefe to many: I will reſolue you therein. I will not ſtick for that, anſwered Galaor, for it ſeemeth by your words, it is an act of iuſtice to do it. Very true, ſaid the Damoſell, mount vp before me on my Palfary, and I ſhall direct ye to your deſire. Whē they had ridden about two miles, ſhee ſhewed him a maruailous faire caſtle, and alighting at the gate, ſhe bad him enter: But remember, quoth ſhe, what you haue promiſed. And becauſe I haue ſolicited, you heereto, I pray yee let me vnderſtand your name. I am called Galaor, quoth hee, and thinke you ſhall heereafter finde mee in king Liſuarts Court, then any where elſe. I am ſatisfied, ſaid the Damoſell, to God I commend yee then thee turned bridle and rode away, but Galaor entred t •… ſtle, where he found the dead laid in the middeſt of the Court, & by him ſtood many making great lamentation. Neuertheleſſe Galaor approching neere, and ſtepping to an anciant knight, demanded of him what the dead knight was. Sir, anſwered the olde man, while hee liued hee was ſuch a one, as all the world may bemone his miſ-fortune. Do you know his name? ſaide Galaor. He is called Anthebon replied the other, one of the moſt vertuous Gentlemen that euer liued in Gaul. When Galaor heard he was a ſubiect to king Perion his father, his heart began to ſtorme, and as hee pittied him the more, ſo his deſire encreaſed to reuenge his death: whereupon hee entreated the knight to acquaint him with the truth of this tragicall accident: Sir, quoth he, this infortunate Gentleman which you ſee, was (in reſpect of his bounty and vertue) maryed to a wife, who now lamenteth for him, ſhe being the Lady of this Caſtle. In time they had a very faire daughter, and ſhe growing in yeeres, was beloued by a knight, our too neere neighbour: but the young Damoſell euer hated him, and aboue all other could not abide him. Where-of he getting intelligence, determined by ſome meane or other to ſteale her hence, and being ſo reſolued, (forgetting God, as alſo his owne honour) watched when this goodknight, (as cuſtomely he vſed) ſhould goe to the cornered ſtreet there to ſucour ſuch as often were diſtreſſed, becauſe it is the moſt dangerous place in this countrey.

Knowing him thus to bee from home, the diſloyall wretch entred this Caſtle, and finding the maiden in com •… y of her mother, with diuerſe Gentlewomen heere diſporting: mauger them all, forcibly hee tooke her away, before wee could fall the bridge to ſucc • r her. Hereupon (as wee afterward vnderſtood) ſhee did nothing day and dight but grieuouſly mourne, deſpiſing all the inticing blandiſhments the knight vſed to her: which in the end diſpleaſed him ſo much as hee began in this ſort to reprooue her. Lady you know that I loue yee with all my heart, deſiring onely to haue the like of you, meaning no otherwiſe then honorably to make you my wife: but you ſcornefully diſdaine me, albeit I am diſcended of a more noble houſe then your father is, which maketh mee maruell very much, what ſhould moue you thus to bee mine enemy? In good faith I will tell yee, quoth ſhee. I heretofore made promiſe to my mother, and ſuch is ſtill my deliberation: that I would neuer match with any huſband, if hee were not ſo good a knight, and comparable with my father in chiualry, for which ſhee made choyce of him among all ot • er knights: to which wordes, he thus anſwered. By heauen I ſee you loue me now, for • re it bee long I will make ſufficient proofe, that I am a better man at armes then he. Within a while after, hee left his Caſtle, beeing well mounted and armed, placing himſelfe vnder the tree where you ſawe this knight dead, to what intent I cannot tell: but vnhappily the Lord of this Caſtle came that way, hauing left his horſe and Armour, becauſe hee onely intended to take the ayre. The cowardly wretch ſeeing what aduantage hee had of him, and remembring the promiſe hee 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 word to him, ſtealing behinde him, ſmote his Launce thorough his necke, as you heere beholde.

Thus, vnprouided of defence, likewiſe ſuddenly and moſt villainouſly, was this good knight ſlain▪ and yet the blody traytour not ſatisfied, alighting from his horſe, gaue him many needleſſe cruell woundes with his ſworde, and ſo deſpitefully left him there. In good faith, anſwered Galaor, the deede is monſtrous, vnable to paſſe without common reprehenſion: but ſeeing you haue vouchſafed mee this fauour, I pray ye tell me, why was he afterwarde laide on ſuch a coſtly bed vnder the tree? Becauſe it being a continuall paſſage for knights errant, ſaid the olde man, to try if any would be ſo honourably prouoked, as to reuenge an act of ſuch ſ • ame and contempt, after wee had acquainted them with this ſad diſcouſe. I found him alone at the tree, replyed Galaor, what was the cauſe then you left him ſo? Your demaund is not amiſſe, • quoth the olde man, for foure Squires were euer wont to guarde him: but becauſe the knight who did the murther came and threatened to kill them, we were cōſtrained to bring away the body hither. I maruell, ſayde Galaor, that I heard not the noyſe, it may well bee ſayd I ſlept ſoundly. Are you he, replyed the old man, whom we found leaning aſleep on your helmet? The very ſame man, anſwered Galaor. Why did you reſt ſo homely there? quoth the old man. To reuenge his death, ſayd Galaor, if by reaſon I might doe ſo much. Ah worthy Sir, anſwered the old man, heauen grant the finiſhing thereof to your honour: then taking him by the hand, he brought him to the bed whereon 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 keepe you in that good minde, for I can finde no kinred or friend in this countrey, who will doe ſo much for me, becauſe my Lord was a ſtranger: yet whlie he liuid, euery one ſhewed great friendſhip in lookes, but now their kindnes is cold enough. Lady, anſwered Galaor, in reſpect both he and I were borne in one countrie, my deſire is the greater to reuenge his death. Are you, ſaid the Lady, the ſonne to King Perion of Gaule, whom my deceaſed Lord often told me was in king Liſuarts Court? 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 may find him? Gentle Lord, quoth ſhe, you ſhall be conducted thither if you pleaſe: neuertheleſſe I ſtand in doubt, (conſidering the perill) you will miſlike the enterpriſe, as many others haue done, who were heretofore accompanied thither. Herein Madame, ſaid Galaor, is the difference between good and bad, yet if you will allow mee ſo much, as you did them that made refuſal, happily I may ſpeede better then they did. The Lady noting his honourable diſpoſition, called two of her Damoſels, commanding them to conduct Galaor to the knight that held her daughter perforce. In footh Madame, ſayd the Prince, little credite ſhall you haue by ſending me on foote, my owne horſe I loſt (not long ſince) in the woode by hard fortune: I pray ye then let mee haue another on this condition, that if I reuenge not your cauſe, I may ſland bound to deliuer him againe. You ſhall haue one Sir, anſwered the Lady, for I hope by your proweſſe: not onely our poſſeſſions ſhall remaine at your diſpoſing, but our ſelues likewiſe your obedient ſeruants.

CHAP. XXVI.

How Galaor reuenged the death of the Knight whom he found ſlaine on the bed vnder the tree.

THus departed Galaor 〈◊〉 conduct of the two Damoſels, who leading him the neereſt way through a Forreſt, at the further ſide therof ſhewed him a Caſtle, beeing the place whither they were commanded to bring him, whereupon they thus ſpake to the Prince. Beholde my Lord, at this Fortreſſe you may reuenge the murdered Knights death. Tell me his name, replyed Galaor. Hee is called Palingues, anſwered the Damoſels. Being now come hard by the Caſtle, they ſaw the gate was faſt, which made Galaor call out aloud, whereat an armed Knight came on the battlements, demanding what he ſought for. I would enter the Caſtle anſwered Galaor. This gate, quoth hee, is appointed to no other end, but for the comming forth of ſuch as remaine heere within. Which way ſhall I enter then? ſaid Galaor. I will ſhew you▪ quoth the Knight: But I doubt I ſhall trauell in vaine, and that you dare not come to vs. Now truſt mee, replied Galaor, I would faine haue beene within long ſince. Wee ſhall quickly ſee that, ſayd the Knight, if your hardineſſe be ſuch as you make ſhew of: alight from your horſe, and come neer the Caſtle wall. Which Iaor did, giuing his horſe to the Damoſels, went to the place where hee was appointed.

Then came the Knight againe 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 cord, ſaying to the Prince. If you will enter here, the paſſage by the basket is this high way. But if I put my ſelfe therein, anſwered Galaor, will yee promiſe to draw me vp in ſafety? Yea truely, quoth they, albeit afterwarde wee will not warrant yee. Crediting their wordes, hee entered the basket, ſaying. Drawe mee vp, for on your honeſt promiſe I aduenture. Herewith they beganne to winde vp the basket, which the Damoſels ſeeing, marueling not a little at Galaors hardineſſe, ſayde. Ah good, Knight God ſhield thee from treaſon, for doubtleſſe thou ſheweſt a gentle and valiant heart.

By this time the Knights had drawen him vp, taking him and the basket in at the top, afterwards the knights thus began with him. Gentleman, it is neceſſary you ſweare to aide the Lord of this Caſtle, againſt ſuch as would quarrell with him for the death of Anthebon, otherwiſe you neuer ſhall depart hence. What? ſayd Galaor. Did one of you twaine kill him? Why demand you? replyed the other. Becauſe, quoth hee, I am come to let the murderer knowe, how hee hath committed a deed of horrible treaſon. Come yee for that intent? ſayd they, now ſurely you might haue beene a great deale better aduiſed: Dareſt thou threaten vs, and art in our cuſtody? alas, wee muſt haue another manner of account at thy hands, & we muſt chaſtice the folly wherewith thy braine is troubled: then drawing their ſwordes, they layde vpon him very furiouſly. When Galaor ſawe himſelfe thus wronged both in words and deeds, hee entred into ſuch choller, as quickely hee made them feele the edge of his ſword, ſo that the Damoſels might eaſily heare the clanching of the ſtroakes on the Armour: for the two knights were ſtrong and vigorous, and Galaor well mooued with hot diſpleaſure. Ah God, quoth one of the Damoſels, harke how the worthy knight dealeth with the traytors, let vs not depart hence till wee ſee ſome end thereof. All this while Galaor ſo laboured his enemies with ſuch ſharpe charges, as their hearts began ſomewhat to deſpaire, for to one of them hee gaue ſuch a blow on the helmet, as his ſword entred three fingers deepe into his headafterard hee buffeted him with the hilts of his ſword, that hee made him fall on his knees 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 backe, running downe the ſtaires faſter then euer hee came vp: but Galaor followed ſo nimbly, that laying holde on him, hee made him ſure for euer letting downe the basket againe, to drawe vp any more knights on the wals.

Now becauſe the Prince knewe not Palingues, and doubting one of theſe twaine to be he, he threw them ouer the battlements to the Ladies, bidding them to looke on them & 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 twaine. Whereupon Galaor went downe into the Caſtle, and as hee looked euery where about him, he eſpied a faire young Lady, who cryed aloud: Palingues, Palingues, is this the great chiualry for which thou wouldeſt be renowned? now thou flyeſt like a cowardly and faint hearted 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 euer I doubted is now come to paſſe: why doſt thou not attend this Knight who looketh for thee? if there be any manly heart or ſpirit in thee, ſhew it now in need when thy life depends thereon. At theſe words Galaor looked more aſide, and eſpied Palingues well armed, who was opening the doore of a Tower to ſaue himſelfe, wherefore he ſtepped to him, ſaying. Beleeue mee Knight, this flying wil little aduantage thee, and leſſe the ſtrong holde thou wouldeſt enter into: for thou muſt anſwer the life of good Anthebon, whoſe death thou diddeſt compaſſe by monſtrous villany. Palingues ſeeing there was no other remedy, turned and fiercely ſmote at Galaor, his ſworde entring ſo farre into the Princes ſhield, as he was not able to pull it out againe: by meanes whereof Galaor reached him ſuch a blowe, that therewith his right arme was cut quite from his body, the griefe whereof ſo pained him, as hee ran into the chamber where the Ladie was, thinking by this poore ſhift to defend his life. But Galaor getting hold on his legges, dragged him along on his backe out againe, and with his ſworde ſmote his head from his ſhoulders: This is, quoth hee, the rewarde of thy treacheries done to Anthebon, and payment for thy treaſon in the action of his death.

The daughter of Anthebon being preſent at this deede, hauing heard Galaor often name her father, fell on her knees before him with theſe words. Alas my Lord, you haue boūd me in ſuch duty to you, as neuer ſhall I be able to requite your paines, my ſelfe being of ſuch ſimple and ſlender ability: but the good will I haue to recompence this benefit, hath imprinted daily prayers in my heart to God for you, hauing ſo iuſtly reuenged the death of my father, and the wrongfull forcing of this traytour. Galaor curteouſly taking her vp, embracing her in his armes, thus anſwered. On my faith faire friend, hee were a man of little ſence, that would offer diſpleaſure to ſuch a one as you are, ſeeing you much bettet deſerue to be loued and ſerued, then with griefe or fauour to bee offended: but tell mee, haue you any more enemies in this Caſtle? No Sir, replyed the Damoſell, thoſe which remaine, are to doe you honour and obeyſance. Let vs goe then, quoth hee, to let in two Damoſels, who were my guides hither from your Lady mother. So taking him by the hand, ſhee commanded the gate to bee opened, & the two Damoſels entered leading Galaors horſe: but when they ſawe their yong Miſtreſſe, they humbly made her reuerence, demanding if her fathers death were reuenged to her deſire. Yea verily, quoth ſhee, I thanke God and this knight, who hath done that many other could not doe.

It was now the vehement hot time of the day, wherefore Galaor tooke off his helmet to refreſh himſelfe, when the Lady ſeeing him ſo young and beautifull, as alſo ſo valiant in deedes of armes: began to bee touched with loue, and ſetting aſide both feare and baſhfulneſſe, ſhee began to imbrace and kiſſe him, ſaying. My honorable Lord & friend, more cauſe haue I to loue you then any other creature liuing. In good faith, quoth he, and I loue you likewiſe, as well in reſpect of your beauty and good grace, as alſo for your deceaſed fathers ſake, he and I being borne in one Countrie. May if it pleaſe ye Sir, ſayde ſhee, to tell mee your name? Such as are acquainted with mee, anſwered the Prince, tearme mee Galaor. In ſooth my Lord, quoth ſhee, often haue I heard my father ſpeake of Sir Amadis your brother, and of you likewiſe, ſaying you were the ſons to the King of Gaul, his liege Lord and Soueraigne. As thus they deuiſed, they entered alone into a chamber, while the Damoſels with the reſt were pouiding viands: wherefore Galaor ſeeing time and place ſo commodious, to requeſt the loue of her that vſed him ſo kindly, ſhee being a Lady, young, freſh and faire, named Brandueta: himſelfe likewiſe actiue and deſirous of ſuch ſweete baytes, thus ſpake. Madame, if Palingues loued you as I haue heard, hee had great reaſon for it, knowing you to bee ſuch a one as I ſee you are: for my ſelfe, who haue ſo little acquaintance with you, am already ſo deepe in deuotion to your gracious nature, as I would repute my ſelfe happy, if you granted me the fauour I deſire, accepting mee as your friend and ſeruant.

The Lady not one iot behinde him in amorous affection, ſhaped him this anſwere. I haue tolde yee my Lord, that I loue you more then any other liuing creature, therefore you 〈…〉 ſured, how m •… you in all things whatſoeuer. •… ring theſe ſpeeches, Galaor ſtill held his loue in his armes, kiſſing and toying with her ſo pleaſantly, as Diana ſoone after loſt her intereſt in the maiden, whereto Brandueta yeelded with greater contentment, then all her former reſiſtances to Palingues: from whom ſhee kept her virginity ſo long, that ſhee was now content to beſtow it on the French Prince, and hee hauing a good ſtomacke to ſuch dainty dyet, made her loue him the better for it while ſhe liued. But ſee an vnhappy inconuenience, after many mabracings and amorous conferences, as they would once more haue beſieged the Footreſſe of loue: the Damoſels came to tell them that dinner was ready, wherefore (though loath) they were forced to leane off, accompanying the Damoſels to the place where the tables were couered, which was vnder a Gallery inuironed with trees.

As they ſate at the table, and diſcourſed of many matters, among other things Brandueta declared to him, how Palingues (ſtanding in feare of him and his brother Amadis) cauſed this Caſtle to be kept ſo ſtrongly: conſidering that her Father Anthebon was of Gaule, and king Perions ſubiect, the ſooner would they aſſay to worke reuenge for his death. For this reaſon, quoth ſhe, hee allowed no other entrance then by the basket into this Caſtle, where I haue liued in maruailous griefe and ſorrowe, as neuer ſhall I deſire to tarry here longer: therefore right gentle Lord and friend, might it ſo like you, without any longer ſtay I would gladly ſee my mother, who will not bee a little glad of my returne, and yours likewiſe. Galaor was very well contented, and though •… were late, yet got they to horſe-backe, departing from the Caſtle: but for all their haſte they were two houres benighted, which brake no ſquare in reſpect of the good newes, the good Lady with all her family ioyfully receiuing them, with all honourable meanes could bee deuiſed, beſide, the comforted widow caſt herſelfe at his feete, vſing theſe ſpeeches. Worthy Lord, both I and mine are bound to you for euer, referring to your diſpoſition whatſoeuer wee enioy, becauſe you are the reſtorer & confirmer of all. I thank you Madame, anſwered Galaor, for your friendly offers, but where no deſert is, the requitall muſt of force be farre more eaſie. Now the greater part of the night beeing ſpent, they brake off talke and bequeathed themſelues to reſt, and Galaor being alone in his chamber, remembred his louely breakefaſt before dinner with his new friend: who likewiſe was ſo deepe in conſideration thereof, that ſhee could wiſh ſuch another ere ſupper, and whether ſhe did or no, iudge you. For no ſooner knew ſhe euery one to bee in bedde, but ſecretly ſhee came to Galaors chamber, where ſhee had no churliſh ſpeeches to driue her away, but moſt dainty, ſweete, and gracious entertainement: what elſe they did I know not, but ſhee tarryed there till morning, and then returned vnſeene of any.

CHAP. XXVII.

How Amadis purſuing the Knight that miſuſed the Damoſel, met another Knight with whom he combated, and what happened to him afterward.

YOu haue heard what haſte Amadis made after the Damoſell, whom the knight led away perforce, bearing and miſuſing her very cruelly: but hee happened to meet with another Knight, who demanded of him why he rid ſo faſt. What haue you to do? anſwered Amadis, whether it be my pleaſure to ride faſt or ſoft. In good faith, ſaid the knight, Iſpeake it as one willing to helpe you, if you be offered wrong by any, that you may goe in better aſurance if you bee 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 anſwer, hee imagined that Amadis mocked him, which made him come and lay holde on the bridle of his horſe, ſaying. By God Sir, you ſhall anſwere my demand, otherwiſe, I meane to breake your pate. I know not what thou canſt doe, quoth Amadis, but I will diſpatch my ſelfe of thee by combate, and that way reſolue thee in thy requeſt: for raſh mindes muſt haue rough medicines, and ſuch as ſeeke to knowe more then they neede, often feele more then they would. So fetching their carrire, the Knight ſhiuering his Launce in pieces: but Amadis ſent both horſe and man to the ground, and with ſuch violence, as the Knights legge was broken in the fall, and Amadis had leaſure to follow his iourney: this was the man you heard of before, that made Galaors Squire goe looke his maiſters horſe.

But now to proceede with Amadis, who tarryed not to helpe the Knight vp againe, ſuch ſpeed made he after his intent, as at length hee ouer-tooke him that led away the Damoſell, & comming neere him, thus ſpake. Forbeare Sir I pray ye, and wrong the Ladie no more. What wrong haue I done her? anſwered the Knight. The moſt ſhamefulleſt, ſaide Amadis, could be deuiſed. What? quoth the Knight, you would then chaſtiſe me? No Sir, anſwered Amadis, but aduiſe ye by reaſon for your owne benefit. I heare yee well enough, ſaid the Knight, but you may returne as wiſe as you came. Is it true, quoth Amadis, then ſtepping to the Squire that led the Damoſels Palfray, he ſtearnely ſayd. Villaine, let the woman alone, or thou dyeſt the death. The Squire being affraid, fled away, which the knight ſeeing, and being very angry thereat, hee came to Amadis with theſe words. Beleeue me Sir, you command very audatiouſly: but if I know not how to charme ſuch brauers, let armour neuer come on my backe againe. So placing their Launces in their reſts, they brake their ſtaues in the encounter: but the knight was caſt headlong out of his faddle, and before he could recouer him ſelfe againe, Amadis ſtood ready with his ſword to take his life, which he perceiuing, and that he muſt bee forced to beg his pardon, thus ſpake. Gentle Sir, take pittie on mee, and looke what offence I haue committed by any hard dealing, ſhall be amended by better vſage. Sweare then, ſayd Amadis, neuer to wrong Lady or Damoſell againſt her will. With all my heart, replied the Knight, and as Amadis was comming to receiue his oath, the villaine thruſt his ſword into his horſe belly, which made him preſently fall downe dead, and Amadis vnderneath in very great danger: ſo that before he could get vp againe, the knight deliuered him many cruell ſtrokes, ſaying. By God Sir, now ſhall I deerely teach ye, how you enterpriſe another time to correct your better. At length Amadis recouered footing, and gaue his enemy ſuch a blow through the ſight of his helmet, as cut the one ſide of his face cleane away: wherewith he was ſo aſtonnied, that he fell to the ground, when Amadis ſetting his foote on him, quickly ſeperated his heade from his ſhoulders. The night induring all this while, yet comfortably lightned by faire Cynthia, whereby the Damoſell ſawe the death of her aduerſary, which made her fall at the princes feete with theſe wordes. Alas worthy knight, the God of heauen (not I) muſt require this honourable kindneſſe, for without your helpe, much better had death beene to mee then life: yet let mee requeſt this further curteſie, no more but your company to a Caſtle not far hence, where I ſhall be in ſafety to my owne deſire, and to trauell alone thither will be dangerous for mee. Nor ſhall you faire Damoſell, ſayd Amadis, be in ſuch feare, for I will not leaue yee till you be where you would: ſo hee willed Gandalin to bring him the knights horſe, and to helpe the Damoſell on her palfray, afterward they rode as ſhee conducted them. Of many matters they conferred by the way, ſhee acquainting him with the whole hiſtory of the dead knight, whole death you haue heard how Galaor reuenged. And comming into a meddowe by a riuers ſide, they alighted from their horſes, betaking themſelues to ſleepe a little, becauſe it was night, ſhee lying on a mantle that Gandalin ſpread for her, and Amadis leaning on his helmet as his beſt pillowe. But as they all thus ſlept, it chanced a knight came riding by, who ſawe them, and without making any noyſe, with the great end of his Launce, hee iogged the Damoſell till ſhe awaked. When ſhee behelde him on horſe-backe, thinging it was Amadis that conducted her, ſhee ſtarted vp as one halfe aſleepe, demanding if it pleaſed him to departe. Yea marry, quoth the knight, and taking her by the hand mounted her vp behinde him. Why doe ye ſo? ſaid the Damoſell, your Squire might helpe mee to mine owne horſe, without troubling you in this mā ner. It were needleſſe, anſwered the knight, for ſeeing a booty is ſo well offered, I meane to haue the carriage of it my ſelfe. Theſe wordes made the Damoſell ſuſpect her ſelfe deceiued, and looking backe, ſhee behelde where Amadis lay faſt aſleepe, wherefore ſhe cryed out ſo loud as ſhe could. Ah helpe me Sir, quoth ſhee, for heere is one I knowe not will forcibly carry mee away. When the knight heard what a noyſe ſhee made, hee gaue the ſpurres to his horſe, riding away in a maine gallop: but Amadis awaking and not ſeeing the Damoſell, was greatly diſpleaſed, haſhly calling Gandalin to bring him his horſe, afterward hee poſted the ſame way the knight had taken. At length hee got a ſight of them, marking their entrance into a thicket of trees where he miſtooke his way in ſuch ſort, as hee knew not which ſide of the woode to take: when (though hee was one of the moſt patient men in the world) he conceiued this griefe marueilous vnkindly, ſaying to himſelfe. Now may the Damoſel well report, that I haue done her as much ſhame as ſuccour: for if I defended her from one forcer, by my ſloathfulneſſe I haue left her in the power of one worſe then he.

Thus riding in and out among the brambles, offering much iniutie to his horſe, at length he heard the winding of a horne, which made him follow the ſound there-of, imagining: the knight did it for his pleaſure. Soone after hee eſpied a ſtrong Caſtle on the top of a mountayne, and approaching neere perceiued it was begirt with a high wall, whereon were many great Towers, and the gate made ſure with mighty barres. As hee was ſeeking ſome place of enterance, the watch diſcrying him, ſaid. What man at ſo late an houre commeth armed ſo neere? I am a ſtrange knight, anſwered Amadis. What would you haue? ſayde the watch. I ſeeke for one, quoth Amadis, who not long ſince tooke a Damoſell from mee. Wee ſawe none ſuch, anſwered the watch. Hereupon Amadis paſſed further, and diſcerned a little doore open, and the Damoſell with the knight to enter thereat on foot, becauſe they could not come neere it on horſe backe: then Amadis calling to the knight, thus ſpake. Stay a while I pray you Sir, and tell mee before you ſhut the gate, if you be the man that tooke a Damoſell from mee? If I tooke her from you, anſwered the knight, you had the leſſe care of her keeping. And the leſſe manhood, ſayde Amadis, was in you, to ſteale her from mee while I ſlept, beeing aſſured you could no otherwiſe haue carryed her from me ſo lightly. My friend, quoth the knight, I haue her indeede, and of her owne good will ſhe came with mee, without any manner of ſoliciting or forcing. In good faith, anſwered Amadis, if you ſhew her me, and ſhee affirme as much, I ſhall reſt contented. It is not long to morning, ſayde the knight, and then I will let yee ſee her here, if you will enter vpon the cuſtome of the Caſtle? What is the cuſtome? replyed Amadis. You ſhall be tolde it, quoth the knight, and I thinke you will finde it too hard for your enterpriſing. If I would preſently agree thereto? ſaid Amadis, might I now enter? Not as yet, anſwered the knight: but if you tarry till day light, wee ſhall behold what you can doe. So going in, he clapped too the door, wherefore Amadis was contented to awaite the breake of day, vnder a tuft of trees hard by the Caſtle, and when the Sunne began to appeare, hee heard the gate open, which made him quickely mount on horſe backe: then comming forwarde, hee ſaw a knight armed at all points, and vnder him a luſty courſer, whereupon the Porter called Amadis, demanding if he would enter. Why haue I tarryed heere elſe, anſwered Amadis, all this while? But firſt, quoth the Porter, you muſt vnderſtand our cuſtome, to the ende you may not ſay after-warde that you were deceiued. I therefore thus aduiſe ye, how whē you ſhall be entred here, you muſt enter combate with this knight, and if he get the victory, you muſt ſweare to doe the commandement of a Lady heere within, or elſe be committed to a miſerable priſon. If hee chance to be vanquiſhed, it is nothing in reſpect, for you muſt be commanded to another gate, and there enter combate with two other, whom if your fortune likewiſe be ſo good as to ouer come: you haue then to deale with three other, they being right valiant and tryed men at armes, and all theſe you muſt fight againſt vnder the firſt condition: but if you beare away the honour in each of theſe attempts, right ſhall bee done in whatſoeuer you demand. 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 are this night paſt.

So ſoone as hee was entred, the firſt Knight and he encountred together: but Amadis ouerthrew his enemy ſo furiouſly, as his right arme was broken in the fall, which made him glad to yeelde for ſafety of his life. At the ſecond gate hee found the other two ready tarrying for him, threatening him with priſon, if he did not well defend him-ſelfe: I muſt buy my libertie, quoth Amadis, with your deereſt blood, keepe it therefore from me ſo well as you can. Then couering them-ſelues with their ſhields, hee met one of them ſo directly 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 ſword drawne, hee ſmote the helmet quite beſide his head, when being loth to proceed any further with him, he ſaid. Now truſt me knight, it is the greateſt folly in the world to fight, thy head being bare. Care not you for that, anſwered the knight, I will keepe as ſafe as you ſhall do yours. And I wil trie your cunning, quoth Amadis: then ſtriking a full blow at him, which the knight ſhifting his body aſide to eſcape, loſt his ſtirrops and fell beſide his horſe, when Amadis quickly ſtepping to him, got holde of him by the necke, ſaying. See knight how well thou defendeſt thy head, art thou not well worthy to looſe it for thy wordes? When the knight ſaw what danger he was in, he fell on his knee, and thus ſpake to the Prince. Ah worthy Sir, for Gods ſake mercy, and ſeeing you haue ſo well aduiſed me, neuer will I hereafter bee ſo raſh in folly, therefore I yeeld my ſelfe to your mercy.

Amadis being thus pacified, took a freſh Lance & mounted on horſe-back againe, riding now to the laſt gate, where he eſpied Ladyes and Gentlewomen on the wales, who ſaid to each other: If he paſſe the bridge in deſpite of our guardants, hee ſhall performe a moſt rare deede of Chiualrie? While thus they communed, the three knights came foorth to aſſaile Amadis, the firſt of them vſing theſe words. Knight yeeld thy ſelfe, or ſweare to doe the commandement of this Lady. Theſe are but wordes, anſwered Amadis, from which I can defend my ſelfe well enough: I cannot put on the minde to yeeld my ſelfe, or accompliſh the Ladyes will you ſpeake of, becauſe I know not what ſhe is. Here-upon a fierce combate began betweene the Prince and the three, who ſhewing themſelues to bee right hardy knights, and Amadis full loth to receiue the foyle, made a long doubtfull iudgement of victory: till at length by many wounds & great loſſe of blood, the knights were able to holde out no longer, flying into the caſtle for ſafety of themſelues, yet one of them fell downe by the way, whom Amadis ſware ſhould die if hee yeelded not preſently. Alas my Lord, quoth he, with all my heart I ſubmit my ſelfe, and ſo ought all other to do that combate againſt you, conſidering your happy fortune ſince you came to this Caſtle. With theſe words hee deliuered his ſword to the Prince, who gaue it him again, and followed the other twaine into the Pallace, where hee met diuers Ladies and Damoſels, when the choyce of them all in beauty, thus ſpake to him. Stay awhile Sir knight if you pleaſe, for already you haue done ſo much, as you ſhall obtaine what you demand. Lady, quoth Amadis, command then your Champions to yeelde themſelues vanquiſhed. And what ſhall you bee the better for that? ſaid ſhe. When I accepted the conditions of entrāce here, anſwered Amadis, it was ſaide, that I muſt either be killed, or vanquiſh him that I combated withall: otherwiſe I haue not the right was promiſed. You miſunderſtood it replyed the Lady, for it was tolde ye, that if perforce you entred thus farre, you ſhould haue reaſon in what you demanded: ſay now therefore what is your pleaſure? I demand a Damoſell, quoth hee, which a Knight tooke from mee this laſt night paſt, while I ſlept by the riuers ſide not farre hence, and hither hee brought her againſt her will. I pray ye Sir, ſaid the Lady to ſit downe and reſt ye: in meane while I will ſend for the Knight who ſhall anſwere ye. Then ſate they downe together, and ſhe proceeded on this manner. I entreate yee Sir to reſolue me, if you knowe a Knight that is named Amadis? Why aske ye Lady? quoth hee. Becauſe, replyed ſhee, all the guard you found in this Caſtle was appointed for him, and aſſure your ſelfe if hee entred heere, hee neuer ſhould depart hence againe, if firſt hee denyed not a promiſe that he made. What was it? anſwered Amadis. I wil tel ye Sir, ſaid ſhe on this condition, that with your vttermoſt indeauor you will cauſe him to acquite it, either by Armes or otherwiſe, by reaſon hee hath not done it iuſtly. In ſooth Madame, quoth hee, if Amadis, hath promiſed any thing wherein hee is to bee touched, I will (if I can) cauſe him to diſcharge it. Shee who vnderſtood not to what ende hee thus ſpake, anſwered as followeth. I heartily thank ye Sir, wherefore vnderſtand that Amadis promiſed Angriote d'Eſtrau •• s, how hee would procure his Ladies liking to him, and yet ſhee neuer could loue him in all her life: this is a matter againſt all right, ſeeing forced affection is no loue, but dolour and miſery, then according to your promiſe, you muſt labour to cauſe Amadis reuoke this vnreaſonable offer.

Now truſt mee Madame, replyed the Prince, you ſay right well I will endeauour to make him acquite you. Theſe wordes procured many thankes from her, ſhee not comprehending his meaning heerein: for hee hoped to accompliſh his promiſe both to Angriote and her, without derogating either to one or other, as you hereafter ſhall vnderſtand. But Madame, ſaide hee, are you ſhee whom Angriote loueth ſo? Yea truely, quoth ſhee. I know him very well anſwered Amadis, that hee is one of the beſt Knights in the world, and me thinkes there is no Lady or Gentlewoman ſo rich or faire, but might thinke herſelfe 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 perform it if I can, becauſe hee is a much better Knight then Amadis, albeit he made him that gentle offer.

CHAP. XXXIII.

How Amadis combated with the Knight, that did ſteale the Damoſell from him when he ſlept, and vanquiſhed him.

WHile thus they were deuiſing together, there entred another Knight of large proportion and ſtrong, all armed except with his helmet and gauntlets, who thus ſpake to Amadis. It is tolde me Sir knight, that you demaund a Damoſell which I brought hither yeſter night, and how I did it againſt her will▪ but aſſure your ſelf, ſhe would more willingly goe with mee then ſtay with you, therfore you may be aſhamed thus to quarrel, no • haue I any reaſon to deliuer her againe to you. I would faine ſee her, anſwered Amadis. It muſt bee then, ſaide the Knight, whether I will or no: but if you will maintaine that I haue wronged her, and ſhe ought not to be mine, I preſently will approoue the contrarie on your perſon by combat. Thou canſt not pleaſe mee better, quoth Amadis, and in this cauſe will I ſtand not onely againſt thee, but reſolutely againſt all other: that by right ſhe appertayneth not to thee, if willingly ſhe gaue not her conſent. Let vs ſee then, ſaide the Knight, which of vs ſhall haue her. This man of whom we ſpeake, was Vncle germaine to Angriotes Ladie, named Gaſinan, ſhee louing and honouring him aboue all her other kinred: for hee was the beſt Knight of his race, wiſe and diſcreete, ſo that ſhee was altogether gouerned by his counſell. A goodly horſe beeing brought forth for him, hee laced on his helmet, and ſtood prouided to enter the combate: which Groueneſa the Lady perceiuing, ſhee came to her Vncle with theſe wordes. Certes my Lord, it were better you ſhould forbeare this difference, becauſe I would bee ſory any harme ſhould come to either of you, in reſpect you Vncle are the only man of the world, whom I am moſt bound to loue: and this knight I haue greateſt hope in, for he hath promiſed to deale with Amadis, as hee ſhall acquite the offer made to Angriote. What Neece? anſwered Gaſinan, thinke you that hee or any his like, can diſſwade the moſt gentle Knight on the earth from accompliſhing his promiſe? I know not quoth ſhee, what you imagine of him, but I repute him one of the beſt in the worlde: otherwiſe hee could not haue entered heere by ſtrength of Armes as hee did. Say you ſo? replyed Gaſinan, you praiſe him ouer much, for paſſing the defended gates, when men of ſuch mean account had them in charge. I ſay not this, but that hee may be a gentle Knight, yet I hope to take him forth a new leſſen, and a better then he if he were here▪ in witneſſe of my wordes, your ſelfe ſhal preſently be iudge, ſeeing him vanquiſhed, and my ſelfe peaceably poſſeſſed of the Damoſel we quarrell for. Herewith the Lady left them, and they giuing the ſpurres to their horſes, brake their Lances 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 ſworde, ſtood by a Marble pillar in the middeſt of the Court, thinking Amadis could there little endo • ge him being on horſe-backe, and hee on foote. When Amadis ſawe how his enemy dallied with him, he waxed very angry, and ſtriking fiercely at him, by miſhap his ſworde lighted ſhort on the pillar, and ſo was broken in three peeces: now grew he into greater choller, and ſeeing in what danger hee was, vnprouided of a weapon to defend himſelfe withall, hee leaped from his horſe ſo quickely as hee could, when Gaſinan thus ſpake to him. Knight, thou • eeſt thy death at hand, if thou grant not the Damoſell to be mine. Nor will I yeelde thereto, ſaide Amadis, vnleſſe herſelfe doe firſt conſent. Thou ſhalt ſee, quoth Gaſinan, how deere this fooliſh humor will coſt thee. With theſe wordes he deliuered him many ſharpe ſtroakes, but Amadis awarded them very cunningly, ſo that the moſt of them were beſtowed in vaine rather wearying his enemy, then doing him any harme. And ſo long endured the combate, as the beholders were not a little amazed thereat, wondering that Gaſinan got not the victorie all the while, conſidering what aduantage hee had of the Prince: but Amadis concluded with himſelfe (being thus extreamely handled) to hazard rather a ſpeedy conqueſt, then a lingring ſhame, and therefore ranne violently vpon Gaſinan, getting faſt holde about his body ſo ſuddenly, as he had ſcant leaſure to lift his armes for reſiſtance, but was conſtrained to let fall his ſworde and ſtruggle with Amadis, who griped him terribly, ſo ſtroue they to ouerthrow each other. But Amadis threw him with ſuch might againſt the Marble pillar, that hee was not able to ſtirre hand or foot, and afterward taking vp Gaſinans ſword, brake the buckles of his helmet, then catching him by the head, hee ſayd. Knight thou haſt offered mee great wrong ſince my ſworde brake, but now ſhall I bee reuenged on thee: then made hee a proffer to ſmite off his heade, which Groueneſa ſeeing, cryed: Ah gentle Knight, haue pittie on him and mee together. With aboundance of teares trickling downe her cheekes, ſhee came and fell at the feete of Amadis, ſhewing the affection of her requeſt, and her inwarde griefe to beholde her Vncles death: all which Amadis well noting, feigned himſelfe more willing to kill him then before, ſaying. If your ſuite were reaſonable, I would conſent thereto: but hee hath ſo wronged mee and without occaſion, as I cannot bee ſatisfied but with the loſſe of his head. Alas my Lord, quoth ſhee, for Gods ſake demand ſome other ſatisfaction, for I will doe whatſoeuer you pleaſe, to redeeme his life. Lady, anſwered Amadis, there be but two things which may ſaue his life: firſt the deliuerance of the Damoſell againe to mee: 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, ſaide to her: Faire Niece, ſuffer me not thorough your default to die, but take compaſſion on mee, and promiſe the knight faithfully what he ſhall demand: which ſhee preſently did, wherefore Amadis permitted him to ariſe, & ſaid to the Lady. I aſſure yee Madame, the ſuite I muſt obtayne of you, gaine-ſaith nothing of my promiſe cōcerning Amadis: for I will accompliſh it to my vttermoſt, ſee then no default bee made on your behalfe. In ſooth my Lord, quoth ſhee, I will performe my duty effectually, knowing well, ſuch men ought to bee honoured for vertue, in whom ſo ſingular proweſſe is apparant: much leſſe then neede any doubt be made, of any thing preiudiciall tomy vnſtayned report. Be bolde thereof ſayd Amadis: then was the Damoſell ſent for, and ſhee being come, Amadis demanded if ſhee would accompany him any further? Worthy Sir, anſwered the Damoſell, I will doe what you pleaſe to command mee, in reſpect I haue beene ſo painefull to you, as while I liue I am yours in all obedience. But were it your liking, conſidering the affection Gaſinan beares mee, as hee would rather hazard the combate, then deliuer mee, albeit by treachery hee carried mee away: I gladly could afford to ſtay with him. By heauen faire Damoſell, replyed Gaſinan, moſt true and ſincere is my affection towarde you, and as I requeſt yee not to forſake mee, ſo doe I deſire your good opinion. You haue choſen (Damoſell) one of the beſt knights in the worlde, ſayd Amadis, and ſeeing you like each other ſo well, with all my heart I leaue yee together. They both thanked him very humbly, intreating hee would reſt himſelfe there certaine dayes: but hee would returne to his brother Galaor, whom hee left vnder the tree by the dead knight, by meanes whereof he excuſed his departure, and mounting on horſe-backe, commanded Gandalin to carry the broken peeces of his ſword with him. By hap Gaſinan ouer-heard him, wherefore hee preſented him with his ſworde, which hee accepted, and a Launce that Gr •• eneſa gaue him: then leauing the Caſtle, hee tooke the way againe toward the tree, where hee hoped to finde Galaor and Balays.

CHAP. XXIX.

How Balays behaued himſelfe in his enterpriſe, purſuing the Knight that made Galaor loſe his horſe.

BAlays of Carſa • ta offended as you haue heard, with the Knightes iniurious pranckes to Galaors horſe, followed him ſo faſt as poſſibly hee could: but the other had gotten ſo farre before, as Balays heard no tydings of him, neuertheleſſe hee rode on till about mid-night, when hee heard a voyce a long by a Riuers ſide. And ſhaping his courſe thither, hee found there fiue theeues well armed with Croſlets and Hatchets, who villainouſly would force a Damoſell: one of them dradging her by the hayre of the head in a ſtraite way on the mountaine, and the other beating her forwarde with great ſtaues, Balays ſeeing them vilely abuſe her, entred among them ſaying: Trayterous murderers, dare you ſo boldly lay holde on a Damoſell? let her alone, elſe ſhall you die according to your deſerts. Then running fiercely at one of them, his Launce paſſed quite thorow his body, ſo that he fell downe dead without any mouing. Wherupon the other foure would reuenge their companions death, & altogether inuironed Balays with ſuch ſharp aſſaults, as one of them ſmote downe his horſe vnder him: yet Balays diſmayed nothing thereat, but beeing couragiouſly reſolued, quickely recouered footing, and drawing his ſworde, layde ſo fiercely about him, that another of them fell downe headleſſe at his feet. In briefe, two more of them accompanied their fellowes in like fortune, when the laſt ſeeing hee could not preuent like doome, fell on his knees before Balays, ſaying. Good my Lord haue compaſſion on me, for if I die in this wicked life I haue ſo long vſed, vndoubtedly both body and ſoule will periſh together. Since thou doeſt, anſwered Balays, ſo willingly acknowledge thy fault, thy life I giue thee, to the ende thy repentance hereafter may make amends for al: & faithfully hee kept promiſe with Balays, for ſoone after he became a religious Hermit, ſpending the reſt of his dayes in great deuotion.

But now returneth Balays to the Damoſell, who being not a little glad ſhe was ſo happily deliuered, gaue him thankes for the ſuccour ſhee found in ſuch neceſſity, and hee requeſting to know how ſhee happened into this daunger, ſhee thus begun. Hauing occaſion (Sir) to trauell in theſe parts, in the narrow way on the mountaine they ſtaied mee, it beeing the common place for their theeuiſh aſſaults: and after they had ſlaine my ſeruants, they brought mee into this place, all of them ſwearing to force me one after another, but God and you haue graciouſly deliuered me. Her modeſt behauiour in ſpeech and comely beauty, made Balays to waxe ſomewhat enamoured, which made him thus to interrupt her. In ſooth faire Damoſell, I perceiue they haue dealt with ye vngently, for they were very loath to parte with yee: but ſeeing fortune hath allowed ſuch a conuenient meeting, euen where wee may lay a foundation of loue, let me requeſt this fauourable kindneſſe, that wee may not loſe ſo good an oportunitie. I know not Sir, quoth ſhee, how you are minded, but had they compelled mee to their laſciuious deſires, both God and the worlde might holde mee excuſed: contrariwife, if I ſhould willingly grant you ſuch an vnhonourable requeſt, what excuſe might then ſerue either you or me? Hitherto you haue ſhewed your ſelfe a well diſpoſed knight, let mee intreate yee to accompany chiualrie, with continence and vertue, as by duty you are bound. When Balays heard her anſwere ſo ſoberly, hee repented that hee had offered her ſuch vndecent wordes, ſaying. With reaſon (faire virgin) you haue fully ſatisfied mee, yet pardon me for attempting ſo bad a ſuite: in reſpect it is no leſſe ſeemely for knights to moue Ladies with loue, then for them modeſtly to deny as you haue done. And albeit at the firſt we imagine it a great conqueſt, to obtayne of them what we moſt deſire: yet when wiſely and diſcreetely they reſiſt our inordinate appetites, keeping the thing (without which) they are worthy no praiſe: they bee euen of our ſelues more reuerenced and commended. This is the cauſe, quoth ſhe, why I more eſteeme your ſuccour to mine honour then my life, becauſe the difference betweene the is farre incōparable. Well, ſaid Balays, what will you now I ſhall do for you? Let vs leaue theſe dead carcaſſes, replyed the Damoſell, and goe where wee may ſtay till day light. I like your counſell, anſwered Balays, if I had another horſe, but being now deſtitute, I know not what to doe. We will ride on my horſe, ſaide the Damoſell, till wee finde further remedy: ſo he mounting vp before the Damoſell, they rode till they came to a pleaſant meddow, where they reſted themſelues till Sunne riſing, and then they went to horſe backe againe. Now becauſe Balays, intended to ſeeke the knight, who cauſed Galaors horſe to eſcape away from him, hee asked the Damoſell what ſhould become of her. My Lord, quoth ſhee, not farre hence is a houſe, whither when you haue brought mee, you may depart to what place you pleaſe.

As thus they rode communing together, he ſawe a knight come towarde him, carrying his legge on his horſes necke, but drawing neerer, he put foote in ſtirrop, couching his Launce againſt Balays, and running at him, threwe him and the Damoſell both from the horſe, afterward he vſed theſe ſpeeches. In ſooth Lady, I am ſorie for your fall, but to amend the wrong I haue done ye, I will bring yee where you ſhall be contented, becauſe he that hath the charge of you, is vnworthy to haue ſo faire a creature in his cuſtody. Ere this had Balays recouered himſelfe, and knowing him to bee the knight he ſought for, hee drew his ſworde ſaying. By thee villaine haue I loſt my horſe, and my companion thou haſt in like ſorte abuſed, now finding mee vnprouided, thou takeſt delight in offering me wrong: but both for him and my ſelfe will I be reuenged on thee, elſe let mee be thought vnworthy of my order. What? quoth the knight, art thou one of them that mocked mee as I rid in the darke? I hope now I haue put the mockerie on thee. Heereupon they preſently fell to combate, and many ſharpe blowes were giuen on either ſide, till Balays at length faſtning holde on his enemy, got him vnder foot, when renting his helmet from his head, hee tooke his life as ranſome for his villany: and breaking his ſword in peeces, layd them by him, then mounting on his horſe, and the Damoſell on her owne, they tooke their way toward the tree where he left Galaor.

But becauſe their ſtomacks well ſerued them to meat, they alighted at a little Lodge, where dwelt two women of auſtere and holy life, who beſtowed on them ſuch cheer as they had: the Damoſell acquainting them with all her mishap, and how Balays deliuered her from the theeues, at what time they intended to diſhonor her hauing ſlaine her ſeruants, and ſhee deſtitute of helpe, whereof the holy women were very glad, by reaſon thoſe theeues did much harme in that countrey. After they had refreſhed themſelues, Balays and the Damoſell took their leaue, and comming to the tree, met Amadis there newly returned from his enterpriſe: wherefore they concluded no more to ſunder themſelues, vntill they arriued at King Liſuarts Court. By this time the night drew on apace, whereupon the Damoſell earneſtly intreated them, to lodge that night at her Fathers which was not farre off: they liking well of her friendly offer, wene with her, beeing there entertayned and vſed very honourably. Early in the morning arming thē ſelues, they thanked their gentle hoſt & his daughter, framing their courſe towarde Windſore, but by the way you muſt note, how Balays (according to his promiſe) preſented his horſe to Galaor which he won from the knight, and he refuſed it becauſe he had another, ſo that Balays ſaued his oath thereby.

CHAP. XXX.

How King Liſuart held open Court moſt royally, and of that which happened in the meane time.

I Haue heretofore declared, the ioy and cōtent of good king Liſuart, for the newes brought by the Dwarffe, concerning the health of Amadis and Galaor: but the more to ſhew his princely minde, hee concluded at their comming to keepe a moſt royall and magnificient Court, as all his anceſtors in Great Brittaine neuer did the like. Which Oliues 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 Coſen germaine: fell on his knee againe before the King, deſiring hee might haue iuſtice in 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 hee would iuſtifie his cauſe, Oliuas ſhould likewiſe prepare two other knights. Warning hereof was preſently ſent to the Duke, and open Proclaymation made the ſame day: that all Gentlemen following Armes, ſhould bee ready at the Citty of London, on the day of our Lady following in September. Like ſummons was ſent abroade by the Queene, to aduertiſe the Ladies and Gentlewomen of the countrey, by which meanes great reſorte came to the Court, where all kindes of paſtimes and ſporres were inuented: without reſpect of fortunes malice any way, who commonly in great aſſemblie 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 attryred entered the Pallace, and a Gentleman that bare her company, demanding where the King was: whereof being reſolued by his Maieſty him-ſelfe, the Damoſell thus ſpake. In ſooth (my Lord) well do you ſeem a King by your porte and countenance, yet may it bee doubted what your heart is. Damoſell, quoth the King, you muſt iudge of what you ſee, and hereafter knowe the reſt when you haue occaſion to prooue. Mee thinkes my Lord, anſwered the Damoſell, you ſpeake according to the magnanimitie of, your minde, and euen as I my ſelfe doe deſire: remember therefore what you haue ſpoken before ſo many great perſons, for ſeeing you make mee ſuch a liberall offer, I hope one day to try 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 bee aſſembled many valiant men, who ſhll know by the promiſe you haue made me, how worthy you are to gouerne ſuch a noble Realme, and how highly Chiualry is honoured by you. Damoſell, ſayde the King, ſo much as effects may better my wordes, ſo much the more will it glad me, to ſee good ſtore of hardy knights there preſent. My Lord, quoth ſhee, if effects anſwere your wordes, I ſhall haue great reaſon to bee contented. So tooke ſhee leaue of him, returning the ſame way ſhee came, whereat 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 magnanimity, as (whatſoeuer happened) hee would not be reprooued with cowardice: and ſo dearely did his ſubiects loue him, that they rather deſired a thouſand deaths, then to ſee him ſuffer any mishap or iniury. Wherupon the Lords and Barons perſwaded him, (greatly fearing ſome threatned inconuerience) to alter the promiſe, hee had ſo lightly made: ſhewing it was not beſeeming his Maieſty, to deale with ffaires of knights and Gentlemen, he being placed in authoritie ouer them.

While they ſtood on theſe tearmes, there entred three knights, two of them being very well armed, and the third hauing on no Armour at all, for hee was a man of ancient yeares, as ſeemed by his white head: yet in his countenance appeared a more cheerefull colour, then commonly hath been noted in a man of age, who likewiſe was of tall and comely ſtature. This knight carryed in his armes a very coſtly Cofer, and demanding for the King, the Gentle-men ſhewed where hee ſate, making him way to his Maieſty, before whom hee fell on his knees, thus ſpeaking. God bleſſe ſo good a Prince as is king Liſuart, for within theſe few dayes, hee hath made the moſt worthy promiſe, that euer King did, if he intend to keepe it. Beleeue me knight, anſwered the King, I neuer promiſed ought, but it was in my power, & and therefore the eaſier to be performed: but I would faine knowe your meaning heerein. I vnderſtand Sir, quoth the knight, that you intend to maintaine chiualrie in the very higheſt honour, a matter wherein (now a dayes) fewe Princes delight, therefore are you to bee commended aboue all other.

Heerein you were tolde truth, ſayde the King, and you may bee well aſſured, that I will doe my vttermoſt to aduance 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 countrie, to be ready at your Court the next feaſt of September: I haue brought you heere a thing with mee, which ſuch a king as you are ought moſt royally to receiue. Then opening the Cofer, hee took forth a Crowne of gold, ſo ſumtuouſly embeliſhed with Orientall Pearles, and pretious ſtones, as neuer was ſeene a more coſtlier Iewell: euery one being of the minde, that it was to impale the head of ſome eſpeciall mighty Lord.

When the king had long and earneſtly beheld it, he was very deſirous to haue it, at what price ſoeuer, which the knight perceiuing, ſaide. This Crowne my Lord 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 eſteemed: for the king that keepeth 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 ſaw it: but if you like it ſo well, I will make ye a preſent thereof, prouided, you helpe to ſaue my head, which I am in ſome danger to loſe. All this while was the Queene in place, earneſtly wiſhing that the king her husband might haue it, where-upon ſhe ſaide to the king. Me-thinkes (my Lord) it would full well become your Maieſtie, if you may haue it at ſo eaſie a rate as he demandeth. Madame, quoth the knight, I haue a better thing for you if you pleaſe to buy it, it is this mantle, the richeſt and faireſt that euer was ſeene: for beſide, the precious ſtones wherewith it is beautified, it is imbroydred with all ſorts of beaſts and birds, which nature hath giuen life to. On my faith, anſwered the Queene, it is a moſt rate and curious piece of worke, not wrought (as I thinke) by humaine capacity. You ſay true, Madame, replied the knight, for the like hereof is not to bee found, yet may not the riches compare with the property, and great vertue of this mantle, which is ſuch, as it rather belongeth to maried Ladies, then any other: becauſe ſhee that weareth it, ſhall neuer be offended with her husband. A vertue of cheef regard, anſwered the Queen, if it haue any ſuch indeede? I haue tolde ye true, Madame, quoth the knight, if you will buy it, you may proue. Now grew ſhe maruailous deſirous of it, what-ſoeuer price ſhould be paide for it, eſpecially to conſerue peace and loue betweene the king and her, wherefore ſhe ſayde to the knight: Say Sir, how do you eſtimate this mantle and the Crowne? My Lord, quoth he, and you good Madame, I beſeech you to vnderſtand my fortune. I am but lately eſcaped the hands of him, who long time kept me priſoner on a ſtrange condition, which is no little cauſe of griefe to me, for I am out of all hope to finde remedy while I liue: and becauſe I know not well the valew of theſe iewels, I will leaue them in your coſtody; vntill the day you holde open Court at London, where you ſhall deliuer them againe to me, or giue ſo much for them as I then demand. In meane while you may make triall of them if you pleaſe, for hauing experimented what I haue ſayd, you may the more willingly pay well for them. Now truſt me, ſayd the king, ſeeing you repoſe ſuch confidence in mee, aſſure your ſelfe to haue whatſoeuer you requeſt, or elſe they ſhall bee reſtored againe. It ſuffiſeth, quoth the knight, thē turning to the Lords, he thus proceeded. Worthy Lords, you haue all heard what the king hath promiſed me, that he will reſtore the mantle & the crown, which I leaue in your preſence, or giue me whatſoeuer I ſhall demād. So much his Maieſty hath ſaid, replied the Lords, & we are witneſſes thereof. Adiew then, anſwered the ancient Knight, for perforce I muſt returne to the moſt cruell priſon, that euer poore Knight was encloſed in. But here you muſt note, how during the time of this conference, the two armed Knights, which conducted the old man, was ſtill in preſence, the one of them hauing the beuer of his helmet open, and ſeemed a young man, the other held downe his head as loth to bee knowne, being of ſo tall and mighty ſtature, as no Knight in the Kings Court might bee equalled with him. So departed they againe all three together, leauing the Mantle and the Crowne in the Kings cuſtody.

CHAP. XXXI.

How Amadis, Galaor, and Balays arriued at the Court of King Liſuart, and what happened to them afterward.

AMadis, Galaor, and Balays, being all happily met together, rode on without any occaſion to trouble them, vntill they came to the Court of King Liſuart, where they were wel-commed with exceeding ioy, becauſe Galaor was neuer there before, nor knowne but by renowne of his famous Chiualry. Beſide, ech one reioyced to ſee Amadis, who by the 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 vilanous inuention of Arcalaus and the Damoſell that cauſed their Combat 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 Queene 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 iudgment, remembring that when long abſent louers meete, lookes, ſighs, and teares are familiarly entercourſed, being the only meanes to content ech others heart. Yet Amadis thought it not beſt to ſtand ſtill thus muſing, left euerie eye ſhould grow cunning in coniecturing the cauſe: which to auoide, he fell on his knee before the Queen, ſaying. Madam, according to your charge at my departure from the Court, I haue brought this Knight, whom I preſent as onelie yours. I thanke ye Sir Amadis, quoth the Queene, both he and you are welcome to our preſence. In good faith Maddam, ſaid the King, you doe me wrong if you take them both: Amadis alreadie is yours, me thinks you ſhould be content with him, and leaue Lord Galaor for mee. You aske no ſmall matter, anſwered the Queene, but if he be ſo pleaſed, I am not againſt it, albeit ſuch a preſent was neuer giuen in great Brittaine: Notwithſtanding, ſeeing you are the beſt King that euer raigned here, ſo good a Knight is well beſtowed on you. But what ſay you Lord Galaor? the King is deſirous to haue you, will ve then be his? Madame, quoth Galaor, me thinks that any thing ſo great a prince demandeth, ſhould be granted if it were poſſible: here am I to obey you in euery reſpect, ſo pleaſe my Lord and brother to like thereof, becauſe he hath greateſt authority ouer me. It contents me very well, ſaid the Queene, that you ſhould doe as your brother commandeth,, for through him ſhall I haue title in you, by reaſon he is mine. I am yours indeede Madame, anſwered Amadis, and brother you muſt be my fellow ſeruant to the Queene. With all my heart replyed Galaor, I am content, and ſeeing you haue giuen mee to her ſeruice, for euer I ſhall remaine at her diſpoſition. I thanke you ſir, quoth the Queene, now may I boldly giue you to the King, for I ſee he would be glad of ſo good a friend: 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 intreate him according to his deſerts, which may not be valued at any meane rate. Beleeue me Madam, anſwered the King, I take this gift moſt kindely at your hand, aſſuring you, he ſhall ſoone perceiue how I loue and eſteeme him: nor can I be ſo affectionate to him, as he hath noble vertues whereby to induce me, which none can value or compare withall. But if Amadis durſt haue ſpoken, he gladlie would haue maintained the contrary, for he perſwaded him-ſelfe, that he loued his Oriana, beyond his brothers deſert, or any other whatſoeuer. So remained Galaor in the Kings ſeruice, from which he could not be ſeparated, for any quarrell concerning Amadis, as wee ſhall haue occaſion to declare hereafter.

All this while Oriana Mabila, & Oliuia, had withdrawne themſelues from the other Ladies, likewiſe Agraies and Amadis were talking together, when Galaor was thus gratiouſly entertained by the King and Queene: wherefore Mabila called her brother, ſaying. I pray ye cauſe the knight to come hither that ſtandeth with you conferring, becauſe we are deſirous to ſee him. Agraies returned where he left Amadis, who diſſembled as if hee thought not on the Ladies, till the Prince thus ſpake: My Lord, theſe Gentlewomen would faine ſpeake with you, and deſire you to come a little more neere them: which he preſentlie did. But Mabila being wiſe and diſcreete, no •… gnorant what medicines ſhould be applied to paſſionate mindes: after they all three had ſaluted them, Mabila took Amadis by the hand, deſiring him to ſit between Oriana and her, leauing Agraies to court his Oliuia: they being ſet, ſhe merily thus began. Although I am now among thoſe foure friends, whom I haue moſt cauſe to loue and regard: yet haue I ſuch preſent buſineſſe elſe-where, as I muſt of neceſſity leaue you a while. Thus deuiſed ſhe bring the louers together and by a pretty wile gaue them oportunitie, to content their thoughts with ſecret communication.

Now beginneth Amadis to confer with his Ladie, and thinking to declare the great affection, which vnder good hope gaue him life and eſſence: extreme loue took him frō the facultie of ſpeech, yet his eyes not vnmindfull of their office, ſupplied 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, and wringing him by the fingers ſighing thus ſpake. My lord and friend, what dolour and griefe did the traytor procure in me, who brought hither tidings of your death? neuer was poore maiden in greater perill, and not without cauſe: for neuer did woman ſuſtain 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 mee, that it ſhould be by him who is of higher deſert then any other. Here-with Amadis caſt downe his lookes as baſhfull to heare himſelf ſo praiſed, by her to whom all commendation was due▪ and feeling his ſpirits altered, ſtroue to make anſwere, but the words died in his mouth, which cauſed Oriana thus to proceede. How can it be otherwiſe my Lord, but I muſt needes loue you aboue all other, when they that neuer ſaw you, do highly loue, honor, and eſteeme you? and I being ſhee whom you affect moſt deerely, haue I not great reaſon to loue you better then my ſelfe? On my faith Madam, anſwered Amadis, your ſweete and gentle words, are ſufficient to make mee die a thouſand deaths, & as many times to reuiue me againe: but how? I pray you at this time onely to excuſe my extremity with pitty, enduring worſe then death by louing you too vehemently: for if I had died as Arcalaus reported, euen then had begun my reſt and quiet, if I had not known you before. And albeit the houre of your acquaintance is my intire felicity, yet am I aſſaulted with ſuch violent paſſions, as my heart would altogether conſume in griefe, without the pleaſure it receiueth in doing you ſeruice, and the good it ſuſtaineth by your remembrance of me. But neceſſity conſtraineth me, to craue the mercy as yet vndeſerued, by ſuch intreatance as no deſert may value, onely to increaſe my hability in ſeruing you, which if you grant me not, a ſudden and cruell death will take hold on me. Theſe words were accompanied with ſuch aboundance of teares, as was no ſmall griefe to her to behold. Alas my Lord, quoth ſhe, forbeare theſe often repetitions of your death, the thought thereof is inſupportable to mee, for ſhould you die, I were vnable to liue one houre 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 owne 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, & 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 endeauour, can compaſſe no meane to yeelde vs content, my ſelfe will ſearch ſome way whatſoeuer happen, bee it hate of Father, Mother, Kinred, & Friends: for we may not thus procraſtinate our ioy, and groane vnder the weighty burden of deſire the flame whereof climeth ſo high, as the martyrdome of our hearts may eaſily bee diſcouered. No doubt theſe wordes were pleaſing to Amadis, and gaue ſuch cheerefull life to his hope, that hee was rauiſhed with inwarde conceit thereof: when ſhee ſeeing 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 ſhortly will the King hold open Court, when both he and the Queen muſt depend on your aſſiſtance, knowing well that your preſence ſhall honour the company.

As they would haue continued in longer talke, the Queene called Amadis, cauſing him to ſit downe by Galaor, for the King was gone to his chamber. Then began the Ladies to cenſure on the brethren, but they reſembled each other ſo like, as little difference could bee diſcerned betweene them: euery one being of the opinion, that theſe twayne were the moſt perfect amongſt all Knights, both in beauty, nobleneſſe, bounty, and good grace: but Galaor was ſomewhat whiter in complexion, and Amadis of bigger bone, his locks more criſpt and faire, and hauing a little more red in his face then Galaor had. Soone after, the Queene willed Galaor to go ſee her daughter and the other Ladies, when he regarding the excellent beaury of Oriana, imagined ſuch another was not to be found in the world, and by her often ſighing with alteration of colour, he ſuſpected her to be the onely cauſe, that his brother liked ſo well to ſtay in King Liſuarts Court. Right courteouſly was hee welcommed among the Ladies, and diuerſe familiar ſpeeches paſſed betweene them: till the King being ſet to meate, ſent for Amadis and Galaor to beare him company, as alſo Agraies and his vnckle Galuanes.

CHAP. XXXII.

How King Liſuart departed from Windſore to the Cittie of London, there to hold open and royall Court.

IN the beginning of this book it hath been declared, how the diuine bountie calling Liſuart to the Realme of great Brittaine, ſoone after of a diſinherited Prince, made him the peaceable King of ſuch a Monarchy, by the death of his elder brother Falaugris, 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 Countries to ſerue him, not thinking themſelues happy, except they might bee named Knights of his Court. But within a while after, whether this fortunate king forgot the author of his good, or elſe it happened by diuine permiſſion: this happy Realme fell into perſecution, and the illuſtrous ſtate of King Liſuart was troubled and obſcured, that all men might know: how he onely is Lord and King of all liuing creatures, who exalteth and abaſeth when him pleaſeth, according as you ſhall here vnderſtand. For King Liſuart hauing cō cluded, to hold the moſt royal and ſtately Court, that euer king did in the Realme of great Brittayne, commanded that on the 5. day following, all the Lords of his Kingdom ſhould appeare perſonally at London, there to determine on matters of chiual • ie, which he intended to maintaiue with all honour might be deuiſed. But in the ſelfe-ſame place, where he thought the greater part of the world ſhould yelde him obeyſance, began the firſt mutabilities of Fortune, bringing his eſtate and perſon in danger of vtter ruine, according as you ſhall vnderſtand at large.

King Liſuart departing with all his traine from Windſore, to keepe his Court at the famous Cittie of London, it was wonderfull to beholde the Lords, Ladies, and Gentlewomen that gaue their attendance, eſpecially ſo many young Gentlewomen beeing there preſent: ſome to regard the magnificeuce of the Court, other to do ſeruice to their louely miſtreſſes, and nothing now generally minded but paſtime and pleaſure. The King likewiſt (for greater maieſtie of his Court) ordained that none of this aſſembly ſhould lodge in the Cittie, but to erect their Pauillions in the fields and meddowes, along the banckes that hemmed in the faire riuer of Thames, leaſt the extreame heate might be hurtfull to them: all which being done according to appointment, the fields ſeemed as a moſt royall Camp, or as if the greater part of the world were there aſſembled. But becauſe the king arriued there two or three daies before the feaſt, he went to his Pallace, accompanied onely with his Queene, Amadis, Galaor, Agraies, Don Galuanes, and certaine other his moſt fauoured: the reſt kept themſelues in their tents, according as the herbingers had in quarters limited them. With ſundry ſorts of paſtimes was the King entertained, which continued till fortune (enuying his felicitie) changed them into griefe & tears: by the meanes of a Lord, no ſubiect to the King, but his nerrer neighbour then friend, named Barſinan, a man opulent in riches, and endued with few vertues, as may be gathered by the matter enſuing.

This Barſinan was Lord of a Countrey, called Sanſuegua, and very familiar with Arcalans the enchanter, who not long before came to him, and conferred with him in this manner. My Lord, quoth hee, the great deſire I haue to doe you ſeruice, hath made me inuent the meane (if you like thereof) to deliuer in ſhort time the Realme of great Brittaine quietly into your hands, without much hazarding your perſon, or any great expence. When Barſinan (who was a very ambitious man) heard the wordes of Asculaus, who promiſed to make him King if he would: he thus replied. In good faith, my deere friend Arcalaus, if thou canſt performe the thing thou vaunteſt of, no feare ſhall hinder me to hazard my perſon, much leſſe will I reckon of expence, if I ſee any likely-hood in the compaſſing. It is a thing, ſaide Arcalaus, very eaſie to bee done, 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 houſe-holde. That will I, anſwered Barſiinan, with any thing elſe thou ſhalt deſire. Marke then the platforme, quoth Arcalaus. You know how King Liſnart hath openly publiſhed, this feaſt of ſeptember to holde open Court, whether you muſt goe well accompained with knights, then ſhall I order the matter in ſuch ſort, that I will carry away the King priſoner, no man aliue being able to ſuccour him: in like manner will I carry thence his Daughter, whom you ſhall take to wife, and afterward will I ſend ye the Kings head. Thus in reſpect the Princeſſe is right heire to the Crowne, and you enioying her in Mariage, being well accompanied with Knights as I tolde ye: eaſily may you make ſeizure on the Realme, nor ſhall you finde any to ſpeake againſt it. In ſooth, anſwered Barſinan, if ſuch an enterpriſe might ſort to effect, I would make thee more rich and mighty then euer were any of thy linage, as alſo the chiefe cōmander my houſe. It ſufficeth ſaid Arcalaus, your ſelfe ſhall ſoone perceiue that ſeldom I enterprize any thing but it comes to paſſe: then faile not to bee preſent in the aſſembly at London. So came the traytour Barſinan to King Liſuart, feighning his intent to do him honor, wherefore the King ſent many of his knights, entertaining him as a moſt noble friend, appointing his lodging, and all things elſe neceſſary for him, and being with the King in his pallace, he entred into theſe ſpeeches. My Lord, vnderſtanding what royall magnificence you meane to keepe in your Court, as alſo the good Knights and braue men were here to be ſeene, this day I intended to honour you with my perſon: not as your vaſſaile or ſubiect, holding my Countrey of God and by the Sword, but as your good neighbour and friend, if you pleaſe. Truſt me, quoth the King, you do me very great pleaſure and honour, and I thanke you for this gentle paines, that you would bee ſeene in ſo good company: aſſuring you Lord Barſinan and my friend, this courteſie ſhall bee remembred in what I may, for I make very eſpeciall account of you. Your Maieſty dealeth very kindely with me, replied Barſinan, and I proteſt on my faith, to bee ready in councelling your affaires for the beſt, according as I haue a long time deſired. See how the traytor lied in euery word, but the good king miſdoubting nothing, requited his offer with many thankes, and to do him the greater honour, appointed his lodging in his owne Palace, himſelfe and his Queene going forth of the Citty with their Tents and Pauilions, immagining he could not do too much for the traitour. And firſt he acquainted him with the whole enterprize, and wherefore he cauſed this great aſſembly, declaring the names & Sir names of the beſt commended Knights, their haughty proweſſe and reſolutions, among whom hee 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 withdrawn to his Tents, and Barſinan to the Pallace, he began to conſider on the ſtrength of his Maieſty, as alſo the loue and obeyſance ſo many great Princes ſhewed him: which made him vnable to enioy any reſt, and often times he repented his fooliſh enterprize, ſeeing how hard it would proue in execution.

Now he minded to alter his determination, when ſodainely another opinion entred his braine, ſo that wauering vp and downe in his thoughts, he could not reſolue one any certainety. On the next morning he came to the King, who was now clothed in his royall ornaments, becauſe it was the firſt day of open Court: and he commanded one to goe to the Queeene, willing her to ſend him the Crown he had of the Knight, and ſhee to clothe her ſelfe in the ſumptuous mantle. Hereupon ſhe preſently ſent for the Cofer, and opening it, found nothing therein, whereat ſhe was greatly amazed, conſidering ſhee truſted no body with the key thereof, but her owne ſelfe, and euermore carried it about her. But knowing not how to remedie this miſhap, ſhee acquainted the King therewith, who in great diſpleaſure came to her, ſaying. I meruaile Madam you haue kept ſo badly, the lewel which would haue ſo greatly honoured this time, conſidering vnder what condition it was left with vs. On my faith my Lord, quoth ſhe, I know not what to ſay, I found the Cofer faſt lockt, and none but my ſelfe hath kept the key of it. But in a dreame this laſt night, me thought a Damoſell willed mee to ſhew it her, which I did: afterward ſhe demanded the key, and I gaue it her, when opening the Coffer, ſhee tooke forth the Mantle and the Crowne, locking it againe, and laying the key 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 whom ſhe came, before fiue dayes, ſhould rule in the Countrie of a mighty King, who at this time laboured to defend it, and to conquer it from other. Hereupon I demanded what ſhee was, and ſhe anſwered: You ſhall know at the time I haue ſpoken of. So ſhe vaniſhed from me with the Crowne and the Mantle: but on my faith I know not if this viſion came to me ſleeping, or whether it be of truth. The King was now in greater 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 Ladies in the place appointed for the ceremonies of the Day, where ſitting down in the 2. chayres of ſtate, the King called his Knights about him, and the Queene her Ladies, with whom ſhe communed. Now had his Maieſty giuen order, that neereſt his perſon ſhould be Amadis, Galaor, Agraies and Don Galuanes, and at his back King Arban of Norwales, well armed, holding his Sword ready drawne, and two hundred Knights for his guard, then by a Herald hee commanded ſilence. But as the King began to ſpeake, there entred a moſt beautifull Lady vere richly attired, and with her twelue other Damoſells in like brauery: for in thoſe dayes, the great Lords and Ladies were wont to bring their people to ſuch aſſemblies, clothed according to their owne perſons, without any difference at all betweene them: this fayre Lady adreſſed her ſpeeches to the King, deliuering them in forme following. My Lord, moſt humbly I beſeech you to grant me audience, and giue mee reaſon in a matter of difference, which I haue againſt the Knight that ſtandeth by your Maieſty, meaning Amadis. Long time haue I beene requeſted by Angriot d'Eſtrauaus to be his wife, who I am aſſured is in this royall preſence: hereto ſhe added how euery thing happened, the cauſe why hee kept the vale of the Pines, and how Amadis trauailing that way, made him perforce to abandon Armes. Neuer theleſſe, quoth ſhe, they departed friends, and Amadis ſollemnely promiſed Angriote, that he ſhould enioy me as his Wife: whereof when I attained knowledg, I withdrew my ſelfe to a Caſtle of mine, where I kept ſuch a ſtrong guarde and cuſtome, as it was thought impoſſible for any ſtrange knight to enter there, without licence: but that knight comming thither, vanquiſhed my guardants, and hath vtterly aboliſhed the drift I intended. Yet afterward of his owne good will he promiſed mee, to cauſe Amadis recall his offer to Angriote: then chanced an vnhappy combat betweene him and this knight mine Vnckle, who being at the lateſt extremitie of his life, at my requeſt he was ſpared, on this condition: that on the firſt day your Maieſty held open Court, I ſhould here preſent my ſelfe, to grant a requeſt he muſt demand of me. To ſatisfie my promiſe I am come hither, and deſire to know what he will command me: At which words Amadis ſtepped forward, ſaying. My Lord, the Lady hath told ye nothing but truth, concerning the ſeuerall promiſes at the Combats: therefore am I ready here to accompliſh, that Amadis ſhall call back his word to A •… iote, prouided, ſhe performe her owne promiſe. On my conſcience, quoth ſhee, if you effect what you haue ſaid, you pleaſure me more then you can imagine: and to let you know I am ready to fulfill my offer, demand 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 deerely as he doth. Out alas, cryed the Lady, what maner of demand is this? I wiſh Madame ſaid Amadis, that you would marry with ſuch a one, as is well worthy to haue ſo faire a Lady. In ſooth knight, quoth ſhee, this is not according to the promiſe you made me. I promiſed nothing, replied Amadis, but I will performe it: for if I ſtand bound to you, to cauſe Amadis diſcharge his word to Angriote, herein I accompliſh it. I am Amadis, and I reuoke the promiſe I made him, wherein you muſt needes confeſſe your ſelfe ſatisfyed: hee 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 renouned? Credit me Lady, anſwered the King, this is Amadis. Ah wretch that I am, ſaid ſhe, now do I wel perceiue, that art not cuning can preuent what God hath appointed, for I haue done my vttermoſt to eſcape Angriote, not onely for the euill I wiſh him, diſdaining his good and vertuous deſerts: but carying this reſolution, that keeping my ſelfe chaſt and ſingle, I would not bring my liberty into ſubiection: and now when I thought to be furtheſt from him, I am come neerer then euer I intended.

Lady, quoth the King, you haue great occaſion to reioyce, for you being faire and rich, he is a yong and braue diſpoſed knight: as you are rich in goods and poſſeſſions, euen ſo is he in bounty and vertue, not onely in deedes of Armes, but in all other good qualities beſeeming a knight, therefore your mariage together is very requiſite, and I thinke all in this preſence are of mine opinion: heereupon, ſhee ſtepped to the Queene, ſaying. Madam, you are eſteemed one of the moſt vertuous Princeſſes in the world, moſt humbly I deſire your councell what I ſhall do.

Faire friend, anſwered the Queene, according to the reputation Angrtote had gotten among the good, he well deſerueth, not onely to bee aboundant in riches, but to bee loued of any Lady he ſhall chuſe.

Why Lady? ſaid Amadis, think you 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 mee of folly: but making tryall of his valour and hardineſſe, yea, to mine owne coſt I dare aſſure ye, and knowing likewiſe his earneſt loue to you: me thinkes the iuſtice of the cauſe commands, that not only my ſelfe, but all ſuch as are acquainted with him, ought to labor in ſeeking remedy for you both: in him, the extreame paſſions hee endureth through your loue, in you, by making his reſtleſſe griefes known to you.

Now truſt me Sir, quoth ſhee, ſuch prayſe haue I heard of your vſage to euery one, as I imagine you would not ſay (before ſuch an aſſembly) otherwiſe then truth: wherefore following your counſell, as alſo the pleaſure of the King and Queene, I will forget my former ſtubborne opinion, and am ready to accompliſh what you ſhall command mee. Then Amadis taking her by the hand, called Angriote, and preſenting him his loue, ſaid: Sir Angriote, I promiſed to do 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 here I giue her you, replied Amadis, on this condition, that you ſhall be forth-with married together, and continue in honourable loue to her as ſhe deſerueth.

I thanke you my Lord, quoth he with all my heart, and will obſerue your gentle commandement. Preſently the King called for the Biſhoppe of Salerne, who conducted them to the Church, where they were eſpouſed in the preſence of many great Lords. Afterward they returned to the Citty, and there the wedding was ſolemnized with great ioy and Triumphs: wherefore wee may well ſay, that not men, but God appoynteth mariage, who perceiued the honeſt and continent loue, which Angriote euer-more bare to this ſelfe-willed Lady. For albeit hee had her in his cuſtodie, neuer did he meane diſhonorablie againſt her, but by vertuous cogitations bridled vnlawfull deſire: onely to expreſſe how intirely he loued her, and by obeying her ſeueere charge, loſt his life wel-neare when he combatted with Amadis.

CHAP. XXXIII.

How King Liſuart would haue the aduiſe of his Princes and Lords, as concerning his former determination, for the high exalting and entertayning of Chiualrie.

AFter the end of this mariage, which by diuerſity of opinions cauſed much talke, as commonly it happeneth in ſuch caſes: the King commanded ſilence againe by his Herauld, when euery one being attentiue to heare what he would ſay, he thus began. My friends, no one of you is ignorant of the heauenly fauour toward me, by appointing me the greateſt earthly Lord, that liueth this day in the Iſles of the. Ocean: Wherefore I thinke it conuenient, that as wee in this countrey are the chiefe, ſo ſhould we be ſecond to no other Prince, in rendring immortall thankes by good and vertuous workes, whereon we are now minded to determine. In this reſpect I intreate & command albeit Kings are the heads of their Monarchies & you the members, that you would altogether take aduiſe, and giue mee counſell euen from your conſciences, what you thinke moſt expedient for mee to do, as well for the benefit of my Subiects, as alſo for our eſtate. And I aſſure ye, I am minded to beleeue your opinions, as proceeding frō loyall and ſaithfull ſubiects: wherfore againe I deſire ye, that without feare, each one would in particular and generally aduiſe, what we ought to doe as matter moſt commendable. Herewith he held his peace, and Barſinan Lord of Sanſuegua was intreated by all the aſſiſtants to ſpeake his opinion, which they did for no other reaſon but becauſe the King would haue euery one honour him: whereupon, after many excuſes on his own behalfe, he aroſe from his ſeate; & making humble reuerence, thus ſpake: ſeeing it liketh you, I ſhould firſt declare my cenſure, I deſire the King and this company to pardon my ignorance, being vnworthy of this honorable and gracious fauor. But me thinks (vnder ſubmiſſion to his pleaſure, and better aduiſe of al you my Lords) that wee ſhould with-draw our ſelues a while from the preſence of his Maieſty, where we may more freely conceiue our ſeuerall humors. This anſwer was generally well liked, wherefore the King and Queene left them together, walking into another of their Pauillions: then Seroloys the Fleming, Countie of Clare, began in this manner. You haue all heard my Lords, the good zeale the King hath to the gouernement, not only of the cōmon wealth in his Realm, but particularly to the honorable encreaſe of Chiualry, which he deſireth to continue in greater preeminence then euer it hath beene. And therefore my Lords humbling my ſelfe to better opinion, I thinke it good (to ſupply the intent of our King,) that wee all ought to counſell him, to ſtrengthen himſelfe with men and money: for they are the ſinnews of warre and peace, whereby, all Kings on the earth are maintained in their puiſſant authority. For it is moſt certaine, that treaſure is for Souldiers and men at armes, by whome Kings reigne, nor ought it for any cauſe to bee elſe-where diſpended, without committing of true ſacrilidge: for theſe affairts are termed holy, cauſing the ſtate to liue in tranquility, and winne glorious conqueſts of ſuch as ſeeke to inuade them. Beſide, to attaine the better thereto, his Maieſtie muſt ſeeke meanes to get all the knights he can heare of, as well ſtrangers as other: entreating them with liberality, to ſend his renowne on winges through the world, which will fetch from the furtheſt parts men to his ſeruice, in hope of condigne recompence to their labour. By their aid he may eaſily make himſelfe Monarch of al the Princes by Eeaſt and Weſt, for it hath neuer beene read or heard, that any Prince could make himſelfe great, except by the aſſiſtance of valiant a • d hardy Knights, hauing bought their vallour in braue attempts. I tearme it bought, by fauouring honoring, 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 proceeded in further perſwaſion, the greater part of the Lords ſeemed to allow of his opinion, afferffing that better conncell could not bee giuen: which when Barſinan heard, he requeſted audience for him-ſelfe, and hauing grant thereof, he intended to reuerſe this firſt aduiſe, becauſe he might very hardly elſe goe forward with his ſecret purpoſe: the ſilence being made, Barſinan thus begins. It ſeemeth by your countenance my Lords, that the County of Clares opinion is a grounded truth, for I ſee the moſt part of you auerre the ſame, not hauing heard any thing to the contrary: notwithſtanding, I hope to make it knowne to you all, and to the king himſelfe hereafter, how much I deſire to be friend him, you and the whole Realme. The county of Clare hath laid before you. that the King your maiſter ought to ſtrengthen himſelfe, by the multitude & force of ſtrange knights, whom he would haue called from all parts of the world: in ſooth if his opinion were to bee credited, and you your ſelues bound to follow it, I am certaine in ſhort time their number would be ſuch, as your king, who is a good Prince and liberall: would not only congratulate them with what he was wont to beſtow on you, but likewiſe take your owne from you, and giue to them, for naturaly, matter of nouelty and neuer ſeene before, is moſt pleaſing. Hereupon it followeth, that whatſoeuer ſeruice you performe, bee it of neuer ſo high eſteemation, yet ſhall you fall into his diſdaine and obliuion, and ſtrangers lift you from the ſeats, which now do promiſe your ſecureſt quiet. Therefore my Lords, before you conclude, this matter is of ſo great importance, as you all ought to bee aduiſed, by good and deſcreete delibera • ion in your graue iudgements. I hope there is no one in all this aſſembly, that will preſume I ſpeake otherwiſe, then reaſon and the good loue I beare yee doth admoniſh me, for I thanke God I am ſuch a one, as neede to regard the greateſt Prince my neighbor, no more then he doth me: but conſidering I am in ſo noble compay, and haue here receiued ſuch fauour and honour, I rather deſire (God is my witneſſe) I had neuer beene borne, then to flatter men with vaine perſwaſions. You muſt therefore (my Lords) diligently fore-ſee, leaſt afterward you repent with too much leyſure. And heere he pauſed, for the murmour was ſo great among them, as they hardly gaue him time to conclude, becauſe the moſt part of them that accorded to the firſt opinion, were now changed and helde with Barſinan, by meanes whereof, they could determine nothing, but it was appointed how the king ſhould bee acquainted with this controuerſie, that hee might ſet downe ſome better order: and after it had againe beene debated in his preſence, hee thus ſpake vnto them all.

My honourable friends, I am ſure that the loue you beare me, & your forward deſire in doing mee ſeruice, hath brought you into theſe intricate difficulties: and I thinke there is no one of you all, but hath ſpoken ſo neere to truth as is poſſible, whereby your iudgements are ſo ſound and good, as better cannot bee heard from any. Notwithſtanding, it is a thing moſt ſure and certaine, that the Kings of the earth are not eſteemed great, by the number of places in their poſſeſſion, but by the quantity and multitude of their people, ouer whom they rule and command. For what can one king alone do? it may be much leſſe thē the ſimpleſt of his ſubiects: and beſide, it ſhal ſeem a matter aboue his power, to gouerne & maintain his eſtate without people, let him abound in neuer ſo much wealth: nor can theſe tranſitorie gifts of fortune be better imployed, then diſtributed among ſuch as well deſerue them. Whereby I gather, how euery man of good iudgement will ſay, that good counſell and ſtrength of men, is the very treaſure indeede. If yet you will haue better inſtance hereof, looke on the liues of great Alexander, ſtrong Iulius Caeſar, gentle Hannibal, and many other, whoſe names beare the title of immortality: they by the treaſure of men, and not mony, were made Kings, Emperours & Monarchs, for they could bountifully diſtribute their coyne, to ſuch as they well knew had beſt deſerued it; and likewiſe would vſe them with gracious behauiour, as they might be termed Lords both in heart and hand, the only meane that made them be ſerued with fedelity. Therefore my good friends, I deſire you all, euen in the moſt intire affection I can vſe, that you aſſiſt me to your vttermoſt, in recouery of good Knights, either of our owne or ſtrangers: promiſing you by the faith and word of a king, ſo honorably to entreate and eſteeme of them, as both they and you ſhall remaine contented. Nor are you ignorant my noblē friends, that the better we bee accompanied, the more we ſhall be feared of our enemies, our ſtate in greater ſafety, and your ſelues more ſecurely defended and loued. If then any vertue at all abide in vs, you may eaſily iudge, how new friends cannot make vs forgetfull of our olde: let none then differ from the requeſt I haue made, but rather yeelde and conſent thereto. Againe I entreat ye, and expreſſely command, that each of you preſently name ſuch to me as you know, happely they being yet vnknowne to me: to the end if any be in this Court, they may receiue ſuch fauour of vs, as the abſent may bee the better affected to our ſeruice; likewiſe we entreat 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, withdrawing him-ſelfe into the appointed Hall, where many Tables were prouided, which he commanded to bee 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-drawne againe: when the King cauſed them all to be called, and thus ſpake. You ſee my good friends, how earneſtly I loue and deſire your company, wherefore you muſt grant me one requeſt, not to depart this Court without my leaue: for I would particularly know the ſeruice you haue done me, and you • aſt ſuch reward of my treaſure, as may continue your loue to me. Hereupon they were ſeuerally called by name againe, and euery one confirmed the kings requeſt, except Amadis, becauſe he was the Queenes knight: and al this while was ſhe preſent at theſe matters, wherefore after the noiſe was ſomewhat appeaſed, ſhe framed her ſpeeches to the King in this manner. My Lord, ſeeing it hath pleaſed you ſo to fauour and honour your Knights, me thinks it were reaſonable that I ſhould doe the like to the Ladies and Gentle-women, of what part ſoeuer they be. Wherefore I humbly deſire one boone, with aſſurance likewiſe if you conſent, theſe Gentle-men after you ſhall not deny mee: conſidering that in ſemblable company, good things deſerue to bee demanded and granted. Then the King looked on all the aſſiſtants, ſaying: What anſwer (my friends) ſhall we make the Queene? ſhall we agree to her demand? Yea Sir, if it be your pleaſure, anſwered they. What? ſaid Galaor, were it poſſible to deny a princeſſe ſo vertuous? Seeing you are all ſo well content, quoth the King, ſhe ſhall obtaine whatſoeuer ſhe asketh. At theſe words the Queene aroſe, and thanking her Lord, ſaid. Seeing it pleaſeth you to giue place and fauour to my requeſt, I deſire hence-forth you would doe ſuch honour to Ladies and Gentlewomen, as to take them into your protection and defence: maintayning their quarrells againſt all ſuch as would moleſt them any manner of way. Beſide, if you haue made promiſe of ſome ſuite 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 neede to be holpen. This granted, hereafter they ſhall be better fauoured and defended then euer they were: for villaynes that are wont to do them iniurie, meeting them in the fields, and knowing they haue ſuch knights as you are for their protect ours, dare no way wrong them. In ſooth Madame, ſaid the King, your requeſt is reaſonable, and I thinke none will gaine-ſay it: wee will haue it therefore regiſtred and ſet downe as a law inuiolable.

CHAP. XXXIIII.

How while this great and loyfull aſsembly endured, a Damoſell came to the Court cloathed in mourning, requeſting ayde of King Liſuart, in a cauſe whereby ſhe had beene wronged.

MEane while this honorable company thus continued, free from all danger and miſ-hap, thinking on nothing but pleaſure and delights: there entred a Damoſell clad in mourning, who falling on her knees before the King, thus ſpake. My Lord, ech one is merry but my poore ſelfe, who am ſo croſſed with griefe and ſorrow, as death were the beſt friend could come to me: yet would your Maieſtie take compaſſion on me, I eaſily might recouer my ioy againe. Theſe wordes were dipt in ſuch aboundance of teares, as the King being moued therewith to pittie, thus anſwered. Lady, I would be very glad to relieue your ſadneſſe, but tell me who is the cauſe thereof? 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 whom they killed in fight. On what occaſion did they kill him? ſaid the King. Becauſe he vanted, replied the Damoſel, that he alone would combat with them, and ſo proud he grew in ſpeeches, as at length he defied them. Not long after they meeting one day together, the knight vſed ſuch reproouing tearmes of cowardiſe, as my Father and vncle could not indure the iniurie: but falling to the combat, the knight was ſlaine in the preſence of a Lady, named Galdenda, who, as ſhe ſaid, procured his comming to maintain a difference, which ſhe had with a neighbour of hers, being her great enemy: wherfore ſeeing him dead, ſhe cauſed the conquerors to be taken, & put them into the moſt miſerable priſon in the world: albeit my father, and vncle often told her, that they would performe for her what the knight ſhould haue done. But ſhe anſwered, how ſhee well knew they were not ſufficient for the cauſe, & therefore ſhould neuer be releaſed, vntill they deliuered her two knights of like account, each of them valuing him in ſtrength whō they had ſlaine, to finiſh the attempt himſelfe was able to doe. Know you not Damoſell, ſaid the King, againſt whom they ſhoulde combat, or the place where it is appointed? No truely Sir, anſwered the Damoſell, but I haue ſeene my father and vncle cruelly put in priſon, where their friends cā compas no meanes to ſee them. Herewith ſhe began again to weep, that euery one pittied to behold her, which made the king aske her, if the place were far off: In fiue daies my Lord, quoth ſhe, it may eaſily be gone & returned. Now truſt me, ſaid the king, you ſhall not want your ioy for two knights, wherefore looke among al theſe gallants, and chuſe ſuch as you beſt fancy. My Lord, replied the Damoſell, I am a ſtranger, and know not any one in this Court: But if you pleaſe, I will i • treate the Queene to doe me ſo much grace, as to appoint me twaine after her owne minde. Doe ſo, ſaid the King, if you thinke good: then came the Damoſell, and falling at the Queenes feete, proceeded thus. Madame, you are ſayde to bee 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 thē, for the honor of God, to take cōpaſſion on a poore Gentlewoman, and counſell me which two knights I ſhall chuſe, that are beſt able to ſupport my want. Beleeue me Damoſell, anſwered the Queen, you demand a matter of great importance, yet in ſuch ſort doe I pittie your cauſe, as I am the more willing to giue you aduiſe: albeit I would be loth to forgoe them twaine, whome I could name in this company. Thē ſhee ſhewed her Amadis, ſaying: This is my knight. And pointing to Galaor, ſayde. This other is the Kings, yet be they both bretheren, and the beſt Knights (as I haue heard) this day liuing. I deſire your Maieſtie, quoth the Damoſell, to tell me their names. The one, ſayd the Queene, is called Amadis, and the other Galaor. But by your fauour, replied the Damoſell, is this Amadis, the knight ſo much renowmed? I am very certaine, Madame, ſo ſoone as hee and his brother ſhall arriue where I can bring them, my cauſe will be ſufficiently executed, therefore I deſire you to obtaine mee their company. Hereupon the Queen called them, ſaying: I beſeech yee both to ſuccour this woman, who ſtandeth in neede of your aſſiſtance. Amadis was ſomewhat ſlow 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 thereby he was certified of her conſent, wherefore hee thus ſpake to the Queene. I am at your diſpoſition, Madame, to do whatſoeuer you ſhall command me. Go then, in Gods name, quoth ſhe, and returne again with all poſſible ſpeed, without tarying for any thing that may happen. Hereto they willingly condeſcended, and taking leaue of her, Amadis fained hee would ſpeake to Mabila, when comming neere her and Oriana, hee ſayde to his Goddeſſe. Madame, well may I ſay that the faireſt Lady in the world, ſends mee to ſuccour the moſt wofull woman I euer did beholde. Sweete friend, quoth Oriana, I repēt that I gaue you ſo much libertie, becauſe my minde telleth me, this attempt will proue ſome-what dangerous to you, which I hope the heauens will powerfully defend. I am perſwaded Madame, anſwered Amadis, that as the wonderfull worke-man of the world, hath enriched you with beauty beyond all other women, he will not ſuffer you to feele diſpleaſure, by any miſ-fortune happening to mee: for being yours as I am, I imagine my ſelfe ſo happy, as I thinke no euill can chance to mee, if I continue in your gracious fauour. If it lay in my power, replied Oriana, I would reuoke your licence of departure: but ſeeing it may not bee, I will remaine in prayer for your proſperous ſucceſſe. So taking leaue of her, hee and Galaor went to arme them-ſelue, then doing their humble duty to the king, they rode away in company of the Damoſell. As thus they trauailed, about mid-day they entred the fortreſt, which commonly was called the vnfortunate Forreſt, becauſe neuer any knight errant entred into it, that could eſcape without ſome michiefe: and ſo theſe two bretheren deerely experimented, for ſuch miſhap befell them, as they verily thought to loſe their liues. Still rode they on without any aduenture, till the Mo one begā to grace the euening, yet would not the Damoſell ſhew any ſigne of ſtay, which made Amadis aske this queſtion: Gentlewoman, ſhall we reſt out ſelues here awhile? Yea mary, quoth ſhee, here before wee ſhall finde tents ready prouided, and people in them who expect your comming: make then a little haſt I pray you, becauſe I will goe before to aduertiſe them. They were very well content therewith, and ſo the Damo ſell left them, till ſoone after they eſpied the tents, where they ſaw her among other Ladyes and knights, who bad thē welcome at their arriuall: and being alighted from their horſes, they were conducted into a Pauillion, hauing ſeruants ſtanding ready to take their armour, which they had no ſooner put off, but was caryed by them into another roome, where-upon Amadis demanded why they did ſo. Becauſe, replied the Damoſell, you muſt lodge where they haue caryed your armour. He imagining ſhee ſayde true, made no further enquirie, but ſate downe with his brother on ſtooles that ſtood ready for them, attending the houre of ſupper. Not long had they ſitten there, but fiue knights well armed entred furiouſly vpon them, ſaying: Yeelde your ſelues, elſe you are ſlaine. When Amadis heard and ſaw their bad behauiour, he knew right well they were betraied, and ſtarting vp, ſaide to Galaor. By God brother, wee are treacherouſly deceiued. The • finding no remedy but preſent death, after they had ſtrugled with the knights, who e •• ily might haue taken their liues, A •… dis thus ſpake. Ah villaines, you haue vs now at too much aduantage, deliuer vs our armes, and this quarrell ſhalbe otherwiſe decided. Theſe wordes will little profit yee, anſwered the Knights, yeeld your ſelues our priſoners, or we will kill ye. So may you doe, ſayd Galaor, like traitours as you are, and I will maintaine my wordes againſt two or three of you, if you dare deliuer me mine armes. We need no ſuch proofe, replied the knights, but if you contend in further ſpeeches, you ſhall deerely buy them with the loſſe of your liues. Now truſt me, quoth Amades, wee rather will dye, then be priſoners to ſuch villaines as you are. Herewith one of the knights went foorth, and comming to a Lady, he ſaid. Madame, they will not yeelde, ſhall wee kill them? Stay awhile, quoth ſhe, and if they graunt not my will, deale as you pleaſe with thē. Then came the Lady (who was mauaileous beautifull) into the tent and ſhewing the countenance of a very angry woman, thus ſpake to Amadis and Galaor: Knights yeeld your ſelues my priſoners, otherwiſe you muſt die. Brother, anſwer • d Galaor, it may bee ſhee will pittie vs, let vs yeelde our ſelues to her. And Madame, quoth hee, wee beſeech yee deliuer our horſes and armour, when if all your ſeruants can conquer vs, wee will bee content to ſubmit our ſelues: but if you d • nie vs this reaſonable requeſt, wee muſt eſteeme the leſſe of you, and they that deale with vs ſo diſcourteouſly. I willgiue no credence to you at this time, replyed the Lady, but would counſell ye to yeeld your ſelues to mee. Whereto at length they accorded, ſeeing 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, ſhe knew they might not eſcape the death. Wherefore ſhee was content to conceale them, in reſpect of the offence ſhe ſhould commit, by cauſing the death of two ſo good knights: beſide, ſhee repented her vnhonorable iourney, which now ſhe could no way remedie, but only by keping their names vnknown. They being thus priſoners to the Lady, ſhe entred into theſe ſpeeches. Knights, you may ſee in what eſtate I hold ye, and there is no meane but one for deliuerance, which I will acquaint ye withall: mary if you doe not fulfill it, in ſteed of giuing you liberty, I will cauſe you to be incloſed in ſuch a dolorous priſon, as ſhall be worſe to you then death it ſelfe. Lady, anſwered Amadis, the matter may be ſuch, that we ſhall eaſily conſent thereto: and in ſome ſort againe, we will rather die then obey you. I know not (quoth the Lady) how you may conceiue thereof, but I can aſſure ye, that if you promiſe mee not to forſake the ſeruice of King Liſuart, and to go tell him at your departure hence, how you do it by commandement of Madaſima Lady of Gantaſi, who enuies his welfare, becauſe he keepeth one in his court, that ſlew the moſt renowned Knight Dardan: you neuer ſhale eſcape this mereileſſe captiuity. Madame, ſaid Galaor, if you do this, thinking thereby to offend king Liſuart, you much abuſe your ſelfe: for we are two poore knights, who haue no other riches then our Armour and Horſe, and hee hath ſuch ſtore of redoubted Seruants, as he will little care whether you impriſon vs or no: yet ſhall it bee ſuch a ſhame to vs, as you can neuer imagine the like, becauſe wee are vnable to do it. What? quoth ſhe, loue you better to ſpend your life time in a moſt miſerable priſon then to forſake the ſeruice of the moſt diſloyall king liuing? Now truſt me Madame, anſwered Galaor, but ill beſeems you theſe bad ſpeeches: for he is one of the beſt Princes in the World, and againſt any knight I will maintaine, that neuer was diſloyalty found in him. In luckleſſe time for thee, ſaid Madaſima, haſt thou vttered thy loue: wherewith ſhee commanded their hands to be bound. That ſhall I do, replied a knight, and cut off their heads, if you pleaſe. Hereupon he laid hold on Amadis, who was ſo offended thereat, as he lifted his fiſt to giue him a blow on the eare: but the knight eſcaping, 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 moued 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 ancient knight ſtepped before him with his Sword drawne, vſing ſuch threatnings and other behauiour, as he cauſed them all to goe forth of the Pauillion: yet could he not defend him ſo well, but Amadis was wounded on the right ſhoulder. Then ſtepped the auncient knight to Madaſima, with theſe wordes. 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? quoth ſhe, did you not ſee their preſumptuous boldneſſe? eſpecially this varlet, who before my face hath ſo vſed this Man, as he is not able to riſe againe? Madame, replied Galaor, we rather chuſe to die, then any other but your ſelfe ſhall binde vs: for you by nature are gentle and courteous, and we as priſoners wil ſhew obeyſance to you. Seeing you ſay ſo, anſwered Madaſima, I will binde you my ſelfe: hereupon ſhe bound their hands with ſtrong cords, and preſently taking downe the Tents, they departed thence, Amadis and Galaor being ſet on horſes without Saddles, and led along by two S • rgeants: as for Gandalin and Galaors Squire, they followed on foot, hauing their hands bound behinde them, in manner as if they had gone to hanging, and thus were they conſtrained to trauaile al night through the Forreſt.

But Amadis was weary of his life, not ſo much for his hard vſage, in reſpect he could gouerne himſelfe with wonderfull patience: but for the matter Madaſima would enforce 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 extremitys troubled his thoughts, which the ancient knight well perceiued that ſaued their liues, yet he imagined the cauſe to proceede from his hurt, and was moued to pitty him, for the Damoſell had told him, that he was one of the beſt knights in the world.

Here you muſt obſerue, how the Damoſell was the ancient knights Daughter, and repented her treaſon in deceiuing them, ſeeing how diſcourteouſly they were intreated which made her earneſtly to perſwade her father, to practiſe ſome meane for their ſafety: for, quoth ſhe, if they be put to death, perpetuall ſhame will attend on my life. Haue pitty then (good Father) on them and me, in reſpect the one is famous Amadis of Gaule, and the other his brother Gai • or, who ſlew the Giant at the Rock of Galteres. Full wel knew the knight the cauſe why his Daughter brought them, and therefore pittied their vſage the more, deuiſing how he might compaſſe the meanes to ſhielde them from death, which was neere at hand, ſo comming to Amadis he thus ſpake. Be of good cheere, Sir Knight, for I hope by (the helpe 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 friendly, knowing likewiſe it was the Man, who deliuered him from them that would haue ſlaine him, hee thus anſwered. Father, I haue no Wound which greatly annoyeth me, but I haue more cauſe to complaine of the Damoſell, ſhe hath brought vs hither by the falſeſt treacherie in the World. I know very well, ſaide the Knight, you haue beene deceiued, and can tell what you are better then you weene, which makes mee the more carefull in ſeeking your good: Therefore I ſhall giue you profitable counſell if you will accept it. But did the Lady know you, you ſhould die without any remedy, becauſe nothing might ſerue elſe to expia • e her wrath: beleeue then what I ſay, and put it in practiſe. You are fayre, young, and of gallant ſtature, beſide, Madaſima hath beene told, how you are one of the beſt Knights in the World, whereby ſhee conceiueth good opinion of you: now muſt you cunningly cloſe with her, requeſting ſhee would accept you as her husband or perpetuall friend: for ſhe is a woman not to refuſe you, if you can neuer ſo little diſſemble with her. But what you doe, do quickly, becauſe at that place whither we are now going, ſhe intends to ſend one of her ſeruants to King Liſuarts Court, whoſe errand 〈◊〉 onely to enquire your names: for ſhe that conducted you • ither, (perceiuing you ſhould aſſuredly die, if her miſtreſſe knew the names of you both) diſguiſed the matter ſo wi • h her, as ſhe ſaid, ſhe forgot to aske your names: onely 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 do it not, worſe will come to you then you ſuſpect. But Amadis loued the Princeſſe Oriana ſo do •• ely as he rather deſired death, then to hazard himſelfe in ſuch a compoſition, whereupon he thus replyed. I thanke you Sir hartily for your great kindneſſe, but I haue no ſuch authoritie ouer my ſelfe, as will permit me to proceede ſo far: though your Lady her ſelfe intreated neuer ſo deepely, yet liberty nor life can perſwade me. Alas Sir, anſwered the Knight, I wonder you will not conſider how neere your death is? It is all one to me, quoth Amadis, but if you will deale herein with my brother, he is a knight more braue and beautifull then I am: happely hee wil 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 could bring it to paſſe, that the Lady would accept me as her friend, my companion and I were for euer at your command. Referre the matter to me, quoth the Knight, immediatly will I goe to her, and hope to ſtrike it dead on her behalfe. So departing from Galaor, hee went to Madaſima, who rode formoſt, and thus began to breake with her.

Madame, you carry two priſoners with you, but you doe not know what they are. Why aske you me ſuch a queſtion? anſwered Madaſima. Becauſe the one of them, quoth the knight, is eſteemed the 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 againſt you, but onely through the hatred you beare to another: all which you may yet redreſſe in much better ſort then you began, conſidering if he conceiued liking of you, you may thereby eaſily induce him to loue, and vnder that ceremony, draw him to do what your ſelfe ſhall deſire. In ſooth, plyed Madaſima, I will aſſay, to know if he be ſuch a one as you report him to be. Do Madame, quoth he, and you ſhall finde him one of the faireſt Knights that euer you beheld.

Here you muſt note, that the Knight no ſooner left Galaor when he went to the Ladie, but he tooke occaſion thus to talke with his brother. You ſee (my Lord) the eſtate wherein we are, which requireth ſome notable diſſimulation at our hands: I beſeech ye therefore moderate their anger, becauſe alreadie it endangereth our liues, and for a while follow my direction. By Heauen, brother, anſwered Amadis, death had beene very welcome to mee: but ſince you wiſh me to be gouerned by you, I am content, deſiring the conſeruation of our honours, which being loſt, we are vnworthie to line. Further they could not proceede, becauſe Madaſima came and interrupted them, when calling him aſide, and faire day was diſplayed on the earth▪ his beautie and good grace ſo eſpecially contented her, as ſhe became ſurprized with his loue, which ſhe ſhaddowed vnder demanding how he fared. Madame, ſaid Galaor, I fare worſe then you ſhould, were you in my power as I am in yours, for I would do you what ſeruice and pleaſure poſſible I could, and you vſe the contrarie to me, I hauing giuen no occaſion of offence: reaſon willeth I ſhould rather be your knight, to loue and honour you, then your priſoner thus vnkindelie bound as I am.

And ſurelie I cannot but meruaile hereat, conſidering the ſimple conqueſt you haue thereby: vſe then ſuch rigor to vs, as women ſo diuinelie adorned are wont to do. Madaſima hearing his gentle language, was more and more enflamed with his loue, yet ſtriuing to diſſemble it, ſhe merrilie ſaid. Tell me faire Sir, if I chuſe you as my friend, and deliuer you from priſon, will you (for my ſake) leaue the ſeruice of King Liſuart, and afterward tell him how you did it by my meanes? With all my heart Lady, anſwered Galaor, and to performe it, you ſhall haue what oath you pleaſe, both of mee and my companion, for he will doe no more then I requeſt him. Credit me, quoth Madaſima, if before this company you wil promiſe to obey me, preſentlie you ſhall enioy your libertie.

Behold me ready, replied Galaor. Yet is not this enough, anſwered Madaſima, for you ſhall ſweare it in the preſence of a Ladie where I am intended to lodge this night: In meane while you muſt aſſure me, not to depart my company. We will not on my faith Madame, quoth Galaor: and calling Amadis, cauſed him to affirme as much, whereupon they were vnbound and ſet at libertie, their • quires likewiſe as friendlie vſed, and mounting on their owne horſes, rode at their eaſe as they did before.

But Madaſima and Galaor ſtill continued their amorous diſcourſes, till they arriued at a Caſtle named Albies, the Lady where-of receiued them very honourably, in reſpect of great friendſhippe betweene Madaſima and her. Needeleſſe were it to tell you of their good cheere, it could not but be anſwerable to the time and company, but after ſupper Madaſima demanded 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 worde to me. Make no doubt thereof, replyed Madaſima: then framing her ſpeeches to the Lady of the Caſtle, and alſo to two knights that were her Sonnes, ſhe proceeded in this manner. My good friends, I pray you heare a couenant betweene me and theſe two Gentlemen, becauſe hereafter you may be my witneſſes. They are my priſoners, and vnder theſe conditions I haue releaſed them, that one of them ſhall continue my friend, and both of them forſake the ſeruice of King Liſuart, telling him: how for my ſake, and in deſpight of him they haue done it. Hereupon I intreate this fauour at your hands, as to meete me at the Court of that wretched King, on the day they muſt declare this meſſage, to ſee how contentedly he will take it: But if they fullfill not their promiſe, hence-forth you ſhall publiſh in all places the heynous offence by them committed, and ten dayes I giue them to execute this charge. I am well pleaſed, ſaid the Lady of the Caſtle, to doe a greater matter for you then this, if they as willingly conſent thereto. We pray you, quoth Galaor, not to faile herein, for we haue promiſed and will performe it. Receiue then your libertie, anſwered Madaſima, yet muſt you not depart this night: Theſe words 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 another, whither ſoone after Madaſima repaired, ſhe being young, beautifull, and aduenturouſly giuen: Galaor likewiſe, a man forward to ſuch fortunes, when Loue had erected his ſcaling-ladders to the walls, quickly got poſſeſſion of the Forte. And ſo well liked ſhee theſe amorous skirmiſhes, as afterward ſhe reported in many places, how ſhe neuer taſted a more pleaſant night, and had ſhe not promiſed him departure, hardly would ſhe haue let him goe ſo ſoone, nor did ſhee but in hope of his ſpeedie returne.

Thus was ſhe enclined to voluptuous deſire, as without care of her honour, ſhe often fell in this ſort. By theſe meanes eſcaped Amadis, and Galaor, vnder the conditions you haue heard, which they hoped to preuent without impeach, as hereafter ſhall be declared vnto you. All that day they rode, not hindered by any thing, and at night were friendly entertained in an hermitage, ſetting forward the next morning to the Court of King Liſuart.

CHAP. XXXV.

How King Liſuart was in danger of his perſon and his ſtate, by the vnlawfull promiſes he made too raſhly and vnaduiſedly.

FOure dayes after Amadis & Galaor departed from the Court, the ancient Knight came to the Cittie of London, who left the Crowne and the mantle with the Queene, as you haue heard: when falling on his knee before the King, he began in this manner. I marueil my Lord, that in a time of ſuch honor, you weare not the 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 proue 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 thē not, for had you pleaſed to keepe them, you muſt likewiſe haue granted my demand, and happely it would proue greater then you expect: otherwiſe, in falſifying your promiſe, you might procure the loſſe of my head. Moſt humbly therefore I beſeech ye my Lord, to will them be deliuered me againe, becauſe I may tarry no longer here.

At which words the King ſeemed much offended, and not being able any longer time to conceale his hidden anger; earneſtly fixing his eyes vpon him (which were then ouer clouded with a diſcontented brow) he brake forth into theſe following ſpeeches. Know knight, that whatſoeuer promiſes, I haue made to thee, are (like thoſe decrees, which ſtand regiſtred in the booke of Fate) immutable, and thou ſhalt finde that I will keepe them inuiolable, Although I muſt confeſſe, (for the which I am heartily ſorry, not ſo much for my ſelfe; who am a partner with thee in the loſſe: as for thy ſake who committed them to my truſt) that both the Crowne and Mantle are vtterly loſt, how, or by what meanes I cannot relate, would heauens would pleaſe to be ſo propitious as to bring to light this deede of darkeneſſe; then ſhould my now troubled heart, finde comfort, and you, your wiſhed deſire: Which till then cannot reſt contented, my much perplexed minde would then bee at peace, which now is at ciuill Warres, and inteſtine contention within me. At which words, not being able any further by his tongue (the hearts beſt interpreter both for ioy and griefe) to expreſſe himſelfe, he abruptly pauſed, partlie moued thereunto by the knight who gaue a loud ſhrike, ſaying.

Ah wretched and miſerable old man, now comes the time I ſo much feared, bringing with it, my lateſt and vnluckie exigent: haue I not long enough endured torments, but now muſt after all thoſe miſeries, finiſh mine olde age in the moſt ſore, cruell death was euer heard of, hauing by no offence deſerued it? While thus he complained, the teares aboundantly trickled downe his white beard, which moued the moſt conſtant to pitty his griefe, and the King himſelf ouercom with cōpaſſion, returned this anſwere. Feare not (Knight) to ſpeede any thing the worſe for my loſſe, you muſt be ſatisfied whatſoeuer it coſt me, according as I faithfuly promiſed. At theſe words the Knight would haue kiſſed his feete, but the King reſtrained him, ſaying: Demand what thou wilt, for thou ſhalt haue it. I know my Lord, quoth the Knight, you remember your promiſe to deliuer my Crowne and Mantle, or whatſoeuer I requeſted for them: God is my witneſſe, I intended not to deſire what now I muſt needes, by reaſon I haue no other meane whereby to bee deliuered, if I had, I would acquit you of the griefe I know you will endure, granting me the thing I muſt of neceſſitie demand: but now it may not be otherwiſe, except you infringe your faith & loyaltie. Rather will I loſe my Kingdome, replied the King, then make apromiſe and not fulfill it, ſay boldly therefore thy minde. I thanke your Maieſty, 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 promiſe cannot be perform'd, or I ſatisfied, hauing a reward now, and taken from me anon. Great reaſon, ſaid 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 Iewells, 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 vnhappie loſſe. Now began all the Lords and Barons to murmur 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 hee made them. Be not offended my good friends, the loſſe of my Daughter will not be ſo preiudiciall to me, as the breach of my promiſe: for if the one be 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 will 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 will deliuer her according to my promiſe. Hereupon he ſent for her but the Queene being preſent all this while, little thought the king would ſo forget his fatherlie loue: and when ſhe heard this rigorous ſentence pronounced againſt her Daughter, ſhee good Lady fell at the kings feete, when weeping (as a Mother for the loſſe of her Childe) ſhe ſaid. What will ye doe my My Lord? will ye bee more inhumane to your owne blood, then the bruite Beaſts are to their contraries? Notwithſtanding all their brutiſh qualities, yet be they neuer ſo vnnatural to ſhew any violence to their young ones. May it then be thought reaſonable vnder ſhaddow of an accorded promiſe (without knowledg there-of) to commit ſo great wrong, not onely againſt your ſelfe impitious father, or mee a woefull and vnfortunate mother, but likewiſe againſt the whole 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 agrieued, and that which moſt troubled him, was the acclamations of the Ladies, wherefore the King commanded them to their chambers. The Queene ſeeing the might not preuaile, fell in a ſwoune, but by her Ladies ſhe was conueighed thence, the King giuing charge on paine of death, that no one ſhould ſeeke to alter his promiſe. My daughter, quoth hee, I commit to the pleaſure of God, but my promiſe ſhall not be broken if I can help it.

By this time the newes came to O •… a, how her Father had conſented to her departure, whereat ſhee fell downe in ſuch a traunce, as they neuer expected life in her againe: when Mabila and the Ladies reputing her dead indeede, thought beſt to acquaint the King therewith, yet by forced remedies ſhee reuiued againe, breathing forth many dolorous ſighes. Now the moſt of the women ſeueted themſelues, ſome neare, and ſome further from her, becauſe ſhee ſhould not heare their complaining: and ſuch compaſſion tooke they on her, as would haue conuerted a ſtony heart into teares, eſpecially, when the Princeſſe recouered the power of ſpeech, and faintly vttered theſe regreets. Full wel, quoth ſhee, doe I well beholde mine owne ruine. Ah ſweete friend, wert thou heere, eaſily wouldſt thou deliuer me from this paine: but thus much my heart foretolde mee, euen at the very houre of thy departure. Ah curſed bee that houre, becauſe I conſented to it. When thou ſhalt heare of theſe rydings, I feare (being vnable to endure them) thou wilt die immediately: yet this is the beſt hope, we ſhall not be long one after another. Ah death, the onely refuge to the vnfortunate, ſeeſt thou not me foremoſt in this ranke? why ſtayeſt thou? Fortune will triumph ouer thee, in dealing ſo extreamely as ſhee can with me, albeit I knowe thou art able to reuenge thy ſelfe • make haſte therefore, and let her not get ſuch preeminence on mee, in deſpight (as it were) of thy authority. Adiew then ſweete friend, for neuer ſhall wee ſee each other more in this life: at theſe wordes ſhee fell in a ſwoune againe. When the King ſaw ſhee tarryed ſo long, hee ſent to cōmand her make more ſpeed: but the meſſenger found her in the deadly agony, and ſtaying till ſhe was recouered againe, as ſhee began to renew her moanes, he thus ſpake to her. Madame, the King is offended becauſe you come not to him.

When ſhee heard this meſſage, ſhee aroſe, hauing her heart ſo ſealed vp with griefe, as it ſeemed to enable her vitall forces, and being followed by none of her women, but the Damoſell of Denmarke, ſhee came before the King, and caſting her ſelfe at his feete, ſayde. My Lord and Father, what is your pleaſure with mee? Faire Daughter, quoth hee, I muſt accompliſh my promiſe. Theſe ſpeeches prouoked her former paines. when the King grieuing to behold the ſight therof, turned his head aſide, ſaying to the knight. See my friend, here is the gift, you demand, and the onely thing in the world I moſt loue: but intend you to carry her hence alone? My Lord, ſayd the knight, ſhe ſhall be accompanied with two Gentlemen and their Squires, which were in my company when you made mee this promiſe at Windſore: & more may I not allowe, vntill hee haue her, vnto whom I am conſtrained to deliuer her. Yet let her haue the company of this Damoſell, ſaide the King, for it were vnſeemely, ſhe ſhould bee alone among ſo many men. Well, quoth the knight, for one woman it matters not. So taking the Princeſſe in his armes, ſhee being ſcant reuiued from her ſwoune, he ſet her vp on horſe-backe, & cauſed a Squire to ſit behind her on the horſe, who might hold her faſt leſt ſhe ſhould fall: and a very ſad countenance ſhewed the knight, ſaying, there was none in the Court more ſorrowfull then himſelfe. After the Damoſell of Denmarke was mounted, the King intreated her not to leaue his daughter whatſoeuer happened. And while they were thus preparing, the Princeſſe looking woefully about her: a tall knight well armed came among them, who not taking off his helmet, or ſaluting the company, tooke Orianaes horſe by the bridle. This was Arcalaus the enchanter, and came in this ſort leſt he ſhould bee knowen: ſoone after he commanded the Squire to ride away with her, which the Princeſſe perceiuing, and ſeeing there was no other remedy, deliuering a ſigh as if her heart would haue ſplit, ſhee ſayde. Ah my deere friend, in a happleſſe houre for you was the boone granted, becauſe it will bee both your death and mine. Herein ſhee meant Amadis, whom ſhee gaue leaue to depart 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 neere at hand: and the King himſelfe was mounted on horſe-backe, to conduct his daughter ſomewhat on the way, as alſo to forbid any rescue from following, according to his former promiſe. But the Princeſſe Mabila ſtanding at a windowe, to ſee this ſad and penſiue ſeparation, could come no nearer to Oriana, her heart was ſo ſurpriſed with griefe: yet by hap ſhee eſpyed Dardan the Dwarffe that ſerued Amadis, making ſpeed after the Princeſſe on horſe-backe, when calling him to her, ſhe ſaide. Dardan, if thou loue thy Maſter, ſtay not any where till thou acquaint him with this mishappe: if now thou faile him, it may returne to thine owne daunger, for this is the time of greateſt neceſſity. By God Madame, anſwered the Dwarffe, I will with all diligence performe my duty. So giuing the ſpurres to his horſe, hee galloped the ſame way his Maſter rode with the Damoſell.

But leaue wee him poſting, and tell what now happened to King Liſuart, who accompanied his Daughter to the entrance of the Forreſt, cauſing all ſuch to returne as followed him. Euen in the houre of his trouble, a Damoſell came to him mounted on a ſwift Palfray, with a ſworde hanging about her neck, and a Launce richly painted, hauing the point gilded ouer: after ſhee had ſaluted him, ſhe thus ſpake. My Lord, God increaſe your ioy, and make you willing to performe what you haue promiſed me at Windſore, in the preſence of all your worthy knights. At theſe wordes the King knew her, remembring it was ſhe that ſayde, how ſhe would prooue the vertue of his heart, whereupon hee thus anſwered. In good faith Damoſel, I haue now more neede of • oy 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, being the moſt loyall King in the world, wherefore humbly I intreate yee, 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 there-with, the villaine violently tooke mee away, and perforce made me yeeld to his vnlawfull will. But in ſuch ſort is hee enchanted, as hee cannot bee done to death, except the moſt vertuous man in the Realme of Great Brittaine, giue him a wound with this Launce, and another with this ſword: both which he gaue in keeping to a Ladie, of whom hee had good hope to be loued, yet therein he was deceiued, for ſhee hateth him aboue all others, for which cauſe ſhe gaue mee this ſword and Lance, whereby we might both be reuenged on him. Nor can it bee done but by you onely, who are the chiefe and moſt vertuous man in this countrey: wherefore as you promiſed mee before ſo valiant men, may it pleaſe ye to execute this iuſt action of vengeance. And becauſe I haue often tolde him, that by this day I would bee prouided of a knight to combate with him, he is come alone into this Forreſt, attending onely for my Champion. It is likewiſe ordered, how you muſt haue no company but my ſelfe, for hee little thinketh that I haue the Sworde and Launce ſo hurtfull to him: and this is our agreement together, if hee remaine conquerour, I muſt pardon him mine iniury, but if he be vanquiſhed, hee muſt doe what I command him. Preſently the King ſent a Gentleman for his Armour, which when hee had put on, he mounted on a braue Courſer, girding the Damoſels ſworde about him, leaning his owne that was one of the beſt in the world: then without any other company hee rode on with her, ſhee carrying 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 ſayde. My Lord, take your helmet, for this is he you muſt deale withall: which the King quickly did, & approaching neare the knight, ſayd. Proud Traytour, defend thy ſelfe, and thy lawleſſe luſt. So couching their Launces, they encountred together, when the King perceiued how his painted Launce brake like a ſtalke of hempe, hauing no ſtrength at all in it: which made him drawe his ſword to charge the knight, but at the firſt ſtrok, the blade broke cloſe to the hilt, whereby hee imagined himſelf betraied, for the knight did what he pleaſed to him. But as hee would haue killed his horſe, the King being quick & nimble caught holde by his gorget, and in ſuch ſort they ſtrugled together, as they both fell to the ground, the knight vnderneath, and the King vpon him, by meanes whereof, hee got his ſword from him, and vnlacing his helmet to ſmite off his head, the Damoſell cryed out ſo loude as ſhee could: Sir Arcalaus, helpe your Coſen quickely, or elſe hee dies. When the King heard her name Arcalaus, hee looked vp, and ſawe ten braue knights come running vnto him, the one of them vſing theſe wordes: King Liſuart, ſpare the knight, otherwiſe thou ſhalt not reigne one houre. If I die, anſwered the King, ſo ſhall you all for mee, like traytours as you are. Then one of them gaue him ſuch a blowe with his Launce, as not onely ſore hurt him, but made him fall on his face to the ground: yet did hee recouer himſelfe very quickely, like one reſolued to defend his life, albeit hee ſawe death preſent before his eyes. But being vnable to reſiſt ſo many, at length they got ſure holde on him, when renting off his helmet & his ſhield, they bound him faſt with a double chaine. Afterward they ſet him on a ſimple horſe, two knights ſtill holding the ends of the chain, and ſo leading him along, ſought where they might finde Arcalaus, Oriana, and the Damoſell of Denmark: but the knight againſt whom the King firſt fought, rode before apace, and wauing his gauntlet aloft to Arcalaus, ſayde, Beholde Coſen, kin Liſuart is ours. A very good prize, anſwered Arcalaus, henceforth ſhall his enemies haue no cauſe to dread him. Villaine, quoth the King, well know I thou waſt neuer other then a traytour, and though I am wounded, yet will I maintayne my words if thou dareſt combate with me. By God, ſayde 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 ſpeed to London, and ſay to Lord Barſinan, that hee muſt execute what I willed him, for I haue begunne indifferently, if hée can make an end as well. Gone is the Page toward the Citie, in meane while Arcalaus deuiſed, to ſend the King one way, and Oriana another, wherefore hee ſayde to his Coſen. Take tenne knights with you, and conduct Liſuart to my priſon at Daguanell: theſe other foure ſhall keepe mee companie, for I will leade Oriana to mount Aldin, where I will ſhew her ſtrange and wonderfull things. This mount Aldin was the place of his moſt vſuall aboade, beeing one of the ſtrongeſt and faireſt in the worlde: thus the ten knights carryed away the King, and Arcalaus with the reſt had charge of the Princeſſe. But certainely, if heere wee conſider the properties of fortune, we may eaſily repute her as mutable, or rather more, towardes great Princes and Lords, then the meaner ſort: as well ſhee witneſſed by king Liſuart, euen in the time when hee intended moſt honourably, to bee twharted with ſuch a contrary chance. For at one inſtant, hee ſawe himſelfe in the hands of his greateſt enemies, his Daughter (and heire to his kingdome) taken from him, and all his eſtate in danger of ruine. Hee that was wont to be honored of all, was now iniuriouſly deſpiſed, bound and led as a theefe, by a villainous enchanter, a meane Gentleman, and out of any other hope then death. Is not this then a faire example for ſuch, as at this day are called to the greateſt honours 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 ordenance ſuffred him to fall in theſe dangers: to the end hee might remember, how al creatures remaine at his heauenly diſpoſition. This leſſon he taught him, for in ſhort time hee was brought ſo lowe as might be, and afterwarde reſtored againe, as you ſhall preſently vnderſtand.

CHAP. XXXVI.

How Amadis and Galaor vnderſtood, that King Liſuart and his Daughter were carried away priſoners, wherefore they made haſte to giue them ſuccour.

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 ſhee had knowne their names: likewiſe how they tooke their way toward London, as men right ioyful of their good ſucceſſe. But by the way, they met Dardan the Dwarffe, ſo faſt as horſe could gallop, whereupon Amadis thus ſpake to Galaor. Brother, me thinks my ſeruant Dardan commeth toward vs, and doubtleſſe about ſome matter of importance, for do you not ſee what ſpeed he maketh? By this time Dardan brake off their talke, rehearſing euery thing that happened ſince their departure: but when hee tolde how the Princeſſe Oriana was carried from the Court againſt her will, and what ſorowfull lamentations ſhe made: Amadis entered into a deſpairing fury, demanding which way they went that had her in charge. In ſooth my Lord, anſwered Dardan, they rode thorough the Forreſt, which lieth on the otherſide of the City. Without more words Amadis gaue the ſpurres to his horſe, galloping amaine toward London, ſo confounded with the terrour of theſe newes, as he could not ſpeake to his brother Galaor, who left him not but followed at hand. Thorow the City they ride not making any ſtay, enquiring which way they took that led away the Princeſſe, & euery one ſhewed it him very readily. As Gandalin came poſting after his Lord, it was his hap to paſſe by the Queenes lodging, where ſhee ſtanding at a window, ouer-come with griefe: eſpied Gandalin, whom ſhe called to her, and asked where he left his Maſter. Madame, quoth he, he is gone after thē that haue away the Princeſſe. Stay a little, I pray thee, ſaid the Queen: thē ſent ſhe for the Kings ſword, which was accounted one of the beſt in the world, ſaying. I deſire thee carrie this ſword to Amadis, and tell him the King forſooke it this morning, he being gone with a Damoſell to combate for her, & ſhe hath giuen him another ſword: as yet we heare no tydings of him, either when he wil returne, or whither he is gone. Gandalin hauing receiued the ſword, ſet away with ſpeed after his maiſter, whoſe impatience vrging him to more haſt, then care of his iourney, made him ride ſo farre into a foule ſlough, as he was faine to alight ere hee could get foorth againe. And leading his horſe by the bridle to eſcape the mire, Galaor & Gandalin ouer-took him, acquainting him with the Queenes meſſage, and deliuering the ſword ſhe ſent him. When hee heard how the King was likewiſe gone, his deſire of ſpeede encreaſed to giue him ſuccour, but his horſe was ſo wearied with ſtriuing in the bogge, as hee was conſtrained to take Gandalins: which trauailed much worſe then his owne, yet with the helpe of his ſpurres he made him goe. At length they found the tracke of horſes, 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, wee met certaine men leading a knight and two Ladyes, albeit wee durſt not ſhew our ſelues, but kept vs hidden in the thickeſt of the wood, for doubtleſſe they beſome bad people: hereto they added ſuch a deſcription of the priſoners, as they eaſily gathered them to be the King and Oriana betraied. But tell me good friends, ſaide Amadis, know you none of the other? for the priſoners are the King and his daughter. In ſooth, replied the poore man, wee are altogether ignorant what they are, yet we heard one that led the horſe of the fairer Lady, often-times name Arcalaus, Now truſt mee, quoth Amadis to his brother, it is the villaine that enchanted me: Oh that it might be my hap to finde him. Gentle-men, ſaid 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 Ladyes. Brother, quoth Amadis to Galaor, I beſeech ye to follow the King, leaſt worſe befall him then we can remedy, and I will after the Princeſſe Oriana. So ſhaking hands in equall reſolution, they parted the ſeuerall waies: but Amadis found his horſe ſo ouer labored, as he was able tohold out no longer. Being thus hindered, by chance he looked aſide, and ſawe where a Knight lay ſlaine, with a Squire ſtanding by holding his horſe: whereupon Amadis ſtepped to him, demanding who committed that murther. A traitour hath done it, anſwered the Squire, who is not yet gone very farre, and leadeth with him the faireſt Lady in the world: no other reaſon had he for my maiſters death, but becauſe he asked what the Lady was. What wilt thou do, ſayd Amadis, tarrying heere? I ſtay Sir, quoth he, till ſome one come, who may helpe me with my maiſters body to ſome buriall, and afterward I intend to ſeeke my fortune. If thou, anſwered Amadis, wilt giue me the horſe thou holdeſt, I wil leaue thee mine, and my Squire to helpe thee, and one day will I giue thee two better beſide. The ſquire was cōtent, whē Amadis mounting on the horſe, commanded Gandalin to help him bury his maiſters body, and after-ward to follow him the ſame way he rode.

Thus Amadis hies ſo faſt as horſe can run, and eſpying an hermitage, went to ſee if any body were within: at his call, the hermit came foorth, of whom he asked, if he ſaw not fiue Knights paſſe by, leading two Ladyes. No verily, anſwered the olde father: but do you not enquire for a Caſtle, which is not far from this place? Why aske yee ſuch a queſtion? quoth Amadis. Becauſe a Nephew of mine tolde mee, ſaide the Hermit, how Arcalaus the enchanter is going thither, and two Ladies with him, whom hee carryeth perforce. Ah Father, replyed Amadis, you name the traytour I looke for. Truſt me Sir, quoth the Hermit, hee hath done many miſchieues in this countrey, would God wee were either rid of him, or elſe his life amended: but haue you no bodie to helpe you? No body, but God and my ſelfe, anſwered Amadis. Why Sir? ſayd the Hermit, you tell mee they bee fiue in company, and you but one: beſide, Arcalaus is counted one of the beſt knights in the world, and with whom few or none dare meddle. Whatſoeuer hee bee, quoth Amadis, I am certaine hee is a diſloyall traytour, and they no leſſe that keep him company: what leſſe cauſe then haue I to feare him? for God is iuſt, in whom is onely my confidence. I pray you Sir, replyed the Hermite, knowe 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 Hermite, further your intent, that ſo good a Princeſſe may not be long in ſuch a wretches cuſtody. If you haue any prouender Father, quoth Amadis, I deſire you giue my horſe a little. The Hermit brought forth ſuch as hee hee had, and while the horſe fed, Amadis demaunded, to whom the Caſtle belonged. To a knight called Grumen, ſayde the Hermit, Coſen germaine to proud Dardan, who was ſlaine at the Court of king Liſuart: which makes mee the rather coniecture, that he will lodge ſuch as are enemies to ſo good a Prince. Good father, replied Amadis, I beſeech you haue minde of mee in your prayers, and now ſhew me the neareſt way to the Caſtle. Which the Hermite did, when Amadis mounting on horſe-backe, tooke his leaue, following the way hee was directed. Not long after he got a ſight of the Caſtle, which was compaſſed with ſtrong Towers and high wals, wherefore ſo cloſely as hee could hee approached neare it, where hee heard what ioy they made for the arriuall of Arcalaus: whē marking how many gates of iſſue it had, hee found there was no more but one, wherefore tying his horſe, where he might not be ſeen, he hid himſelfe ſo conueniently, as none could paſſe in and out but he muſt needs ſee them: thus was hee glad to watch there all that night. At the breake of day, doubting leſt the watch of the Caſtle ſhould deſcry him, hee entered a little thicket, where long hee had not ſtaied, but hee ſawe a knight come forth on a little hill before the Caſtle, looking all about if he could diſcerne any ambuſh: which done, hee went in againe, and very ſoon after, Arcalaus with his foure companions iſſued forth well armed, conducting the two Ladies, whom Amadis well knew ſo ſoone as hee ſawe them. Heereupon hee fell downe on his knee and prayed, that God would ſtrengthen him in this enterpriſe, then looking to the well guiding of his horſe, and that euery part of his Armour were as it ought to be, taking his Launce, hee mounted, tarrying till they paſſed by him. But becauſe this place was vnfit for the combate, hee intended to ſuffer them enter on the plaine neere at hand, ſtill keeping himſelfe in the thicket: and ſo neer did Arcalaus with his company paſſe by Amadis, as hee heard the Princeſſe Oriana thus complaine. Alas ſweet friend, quoth ſhe, great reaſon haue you to bid mee adiew, when I would permit you to goe ſuccour her, that ſeemed the moſt wofull woman in the world: for I feare this ſhall bee our laſt conge, and neuer may you ſee me againe, becauſe death giueth ſuch due attendance, as it is impoſſible for me to eſcape. Theſe words were of ſuch vertue, that albeit Amadis could not refraine from teares, yet did they ſo liuely inflame his heart, as ouer-reaching them ere they knew any thing, hee thus ſpake to them. You lye falſe traitours, for theſe Ladyes ſhall paſſe no further. The voyce of Amadis was quickly knowne by Oriana and the Damoſell of Denmarke, when imagining themſelues already reskewed, their mindes were ioyfully cheered, eſpecially to ſee their conductours ſo ſuddenly amated. But Arcalaus perceiuing how Amadis out-raged his friends, approched more neere him, and Amadis well knowing him from the reſt, met him ſo brauely, as hee ſent him headlong to the ground: thē entring among the other foure, hee gaue ſuch a charge to Grumen, the Lord of the Caſtle where they lodged, that his Launce paſſed quite through his body, and breaking therein, he fell downe dead from his horſe. Now drew he the ſword the Queene ſent him, wherewith he laide ſo valiantly about him, as his enemies were cleane diſmaied in their hope, whē they beheld Arcalaus not yet recouered, whoſe power they reputed able to ouer-throw an armie. As hee continued the combate with them, the Damoſell of Denmarke ſeeing the friends of Arcalaus fight ſo timorouſly, and himſelfe lie ſtill as one in a traunce, ſhe ſayd to Oriana. Madame, beholde how your Amadis honoureth your loue, ſee you not how he hath vſed Arcalaus and our hoſte? in ſooth wee are already ſuccoured, for theſe other villaines can holde out no longer. Ah happy Amadis, quoth Oriana, the mirrour of all vertue and chiualrie, heauen giue thee grace to finiſh our deliuerance, with victorie ouer theſe malicious traitours. When the Squire who had the charge of Oriana, as you heard, vnderſtood that ſhee named Amadis, he was in ſuch feare, as preſently hee leaped from the horſe, ſaying. By my faith I might full well be reputed a foole, to tarry for ſuch blowes as my companions haue: and with theſe words he run away ſo faſt, that hee neuer looked behinde if any purſued him. In this time Amadis had diſpatched three of the knights, and the fourth miſdoubting like lot would fal to him, truſted to his horſe legges for ſafetie of himſelfe: but as Amadis followed him, he heard the Princeſſe giue a loude crye, when looking backe, hee ſaw that Arcalaus had got her with him on horſe backe, and gallopped away ſo faſt as hee could. Hereupon hee let goe the knight, to helpe Oriana, ouer-taking Arcalaus ere hee got much ground, and lifting his ſword to ſtrike at him, hee doubted leaſt he ſhould hurt the Princeſſe: but turning to the other ſide he gaue him ſuch a wound on the ſhoulder, as he was glad to let fall Oriana, that himſelfe might eſcape more lightly: for he knew if Amadis laid hold on him, al the treaſure in the world could not ſaue his life. When Amadis ſaw himſelfe ſure of his Lady, hee ſtill purſued the cowardly run-away, ſaying: Tarry Arcalaus, tarry, and thou ſhalt ſee if Amadis be dead, according as thou lyedſt not long agoe. But Arcalaus had no leaſure to anſwere, hee rather tooke his ſhield from his neck and threw it to the ground, becauſe nothing might hinder his horſe in running. At length as Amadis ſtrook at him, the blowe fell ſhort on the horſe buttock, and the beaſt feeling himſelfe wounded, made greater haſte away then he did before, leauing Amadis very farre behinde, who earneſtly deſired the death of Arcalaus: but ſeeing all his labour was in vaine, and doubting leaſt ſome harme might happen to his Miſtreſſe, to loſe her againe by negligence, hauing by hardy valour ſo well recouered her: he turned back againe, and attayning the place where ſhe ſtayed for him, hee alighted from his horſe, then falling on his knee humbly kiſſed her hand, ſaying. Madame, heauen hath affoorded mee more grace, in ſtrengthening me to ſuccour you, then euer it did to any other knight, for I was out of hope to ſee you againe. But ſhe good Lady remained ſtill ſo paſſionate, in reſpect of her vngentle vſage, as alſo affrighted with feare when Arcalaus let her fall: that ſhe could returne no anſwer, but gaue him thankes by many kind embracings. By this time, the Damoſell of Denmarke came to them, and by the way found the ſword of Arcalaus, which ſhee bringing to Amadis, thus ſpake. See heere (my Lord) a very faire ſword. Right ſoone did Amadis know it, to bee the ſame was found with him on the Sea, which Arcalaus took from him when he lay enchanted, being not a little glad hee had recouered it.

While many affable ſpeeches paſſed betweene them, Amadis ſtill comforting his diſmayed Miſtris, and ſhee reioycing in her louely friend: Gandalin arriued, who had ſought his Maſter all that night, and happily found him there with his Lady. Now minded they to tarry no longer in this place, wherfore making choyce of the knights horſes to their owne liking, they all mounted, Amadis leading Orianaes Palfray by the bridle, and ſhee rehearſing to him by the way, what iniury the dead knights had done her, as in her life time ſhe neuer endured the like: Madame, anſwered Amadis, much greater griefe haue I ſuffered by a liuing creature, yet leſſe to be feared then the dead, who can doe no harme: but beauty onely hath hazarded my life. Albeit Oriana well knew his meaning, yet ſhee demanded who was the cauſe thereof. Euen you Madame, quoth he, who hold mee in a life more irkeſome then death. My Lord, ſaid the Princeſſe, neuer with my conſent did you ſuſtaine any harme, and very ſorie would I be you ſhould thinke mee ſo vnkinde: for rather could I affoord to eaſe your griefe, were it in my power to compaſſe the meane. Ah Madame, replyed Amadis, as by you onely I took my hurt, ſo from you onely 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 indued with ſuch pitty, as the reſt of your excellencies do plainly promiſe, you will not beholde that in me, which you grieue to ſee in your chiefeſt enemies: euen death, gentle Princeſſe, who in my torments awaiteth on me, forbearing to ſtrike, beeing conquered with this hope, that did opportunity and place ſerue, your paſſed promiſe ſhold eaſe your thoughts, and deliuer me from this weighty oppreſſion. But ſee how ſweete occaſion fauoureth vs, and fortune ſtands alooſe from hindering our content: doe 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 pain was equall with his, & had not he begun the motion, her ſelfe would haue ſolicited the ſame) thus anſwered. Great is the force of your perſwaſiōs, but greater the vnfained loue I beare you, which hath ſuch authority ouer me: as when you ſhall haue leaſt occaſion to demand, I am content and conſtrained to obey, yea, to repoſe ſuch a thing in your truſt, as very hardly can I holde faſt in my thoughts. Yet I deſire you, albeit you ſee me not ſtored with prouidence, that you will carefully mannage our enterpriſe, by warie keeping it from knowledge or ſuſpect: rather ſubmitting our ſelues to the higheſt diſpleaſure, then common reproofe, which is containd within no limits. Sufficient proteſtation made Amdais hereof, but little batterie needed when the hole was won, and riding through a verie thick wood, the Princeſſe became deſirous of ſleepe, becauſe the night before ſhe enioyed no reſt: whereupon ſhee acquainted Amadis therewith, ſaying, ſhee muſt needes ſleepe ere ſhe went any further. • Hee beeing no vnprofitable counſeller, and ſeeing a daintie plot by a riuers ſiue, ſhaddowed with boughes from the heate of the ſunne: aduiſed her to reſt there awhile, and diſmounting from their horſes, hee 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 viands to refreſh vs withall. Your reaſon is good, ſaide Oriana, but how ſhall hee come by meate? He ſhall leaue his horſe in pawne, anſwered Amadis, and returne on foote. Yet I (quoth Oriana) haue a better helpe then that: hee ſhall ſell this ring, which can doe vs no better ſeruice then now in our neede. So pulling the ring from her finger, ſhe gaue it to Gandalin, who taking his leaue, as hee came by his Maiſter, ſaide: So good time loſt, will neuer bee had againe. Amadis knew his meaning well enough, yet made he no ſhew thereof, but vnarmed him-ſelfe, and Oriana ſpreading the Damoſels mantle on the graſſe, laide her downe vpon it: the Damoſell likewiſe went aſide into the wood, where ſhee fell ſoundly aſleepe, by reaſon ſhe watched all the night before. Thus remained Amadis alone with his miſtreſſe, ſo glad of her gentle grant, and the fauourable houre at hand: as hee could not withdraw his eyes from comfort, which made him delay time in needeleſſe gazing. In the end, though his hands had beene ſlow in vnarming him, all his other members were in better ſtate, for not one of them but did his duty. The heart was rauiſhed in thoughts, the eye, in contemplatiō of excellent beauty, the mouth, with ſweete kiſſes, the armes, with kinde embracings: and no one mal content in any poynt, except the eyes, which wiſhed themſelues in number like the ſtarres in heauen, for their better ability in function, thinking they could not ſufficiently beholde ſo diuine an obiect. In great paine were they likewiſe, becauſe they were hindered from the pride of beauty, for the Princeſſe held her eyes cloſed, as well to diſguiſe her deſire of ſleepe, as alſo for the diſcreet ſhame conceiued by this pleaſure, ſo that ſhee durſt not boldly looke on him ſhe moſt loued. Hereupon, careleſly ſpreading her armes abroad, as though ſhe ſlept in deed, and by reaſon of the exceeding heate, leauing her gorget open, two little alablaſter bowles liuely ſhewed themſelues in her boſome, ſo faire and ſweetly reſpiring, as Nature neuer ſhewed more curious workmanſhippe. Now Amadis forgetting his former baſhfulneſſe, ſeeing Fortune allowed him ſo quaint a fauour, let looſe the reines of amorous deſire with ſuch aduantage, as notwithſtanding ſome weak reſiſtance of the Princeſſe, ſhe was enforced to prooue the good and bad together, which maketh friendly maidens become faire women. Dainty was the good grace and ſubtiltie of Oriana, in ſhadowing her ſurpaſſing pleaſure, with a feminine complaint of Amadis boldneſſe, ſhewing in countenance ſuch a gracious choller & contented diſpleaſure: as in ſtead of conſuming time in excuſes, Amadis reſaluted her with ſundry ſweet kiſſes, as alſo another cauſe to chide if ſhe wold. But ſhe being loth to mixe angry ſpeeches with amiable ſollace, or with frowning lookes to croſſe an equall content, thought it better to commend the controule of ſo kinde a louer, and therefore continued this pleaſing recreation, as neither party receiued occaſion of miſlike: rather with kiſſes (which are counted the ſeales of loue) they choſe to confirm their vnanimity, then otherwiſe to offend a reſolued patience. Ah, how many repetitions made Oriana, of the paines ſhe ſuffered in expectation of this day? confeſſing thoſe priuate particularities, which none but ſhe & her deſire were acquainted withall. How many matters likewiſe alleadged Amadis, expreſſing thereby his ſingular contentment, and credible aſſurance of his perpetuall faith? now reckoning all his trauels well imployed, & more then ſufficiently recompenſed. In theſe diſcourſes and pleaſures they ſpent moſt part of the day, carryed ſo farre from remembrance of any thing elſe, as they thought not on the time, how day waſted, & 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, being thus delighted the one with the other, which ſeemed more delicious to them, then all the Nectar or Ambrofia of Iupiter. Yet at length they remembred themſelues ſomewhat better, when hearing the Damoſell and Gandalin ſo neare them, their paſtime ended, and taking each other by the hand, walked among the trees to take the ayre: in the meane while Gandalin and the Damoſell ſpread a cloath on the graſſe, and ſet thereon ſuch victuals as they had. Now though there wanted rich cup-boords of plan, as were in the houſes of King Liſuart and Perion, as alſo the ſolemnity of great ſeruices: yet the fortunate entertaynement at this time, was held by them of higher eſtimation.

During their repaſt, as they regarded the woods and fountaines, they began to eſteem it no ſtrange matter, why the Gods ſometime forſooke the heauens, to dwell in groues and delightful Forreſts. Iupiter they imagined wiſe, when he followed Europa, 10, and his other friends. Beſide, Apollo had reaſon to become a Shepheard, for the loue of Daphne, and the daughter of Admetus. They being willing to imitate their example, wiſhed continually to tarry there, without returning to the Pallace and royall pompe: reputing the Nymphes of the woods moſt happy Goddeſſes, excelling ſuch as remayned in the walled Cities. Pitty were it to trouble theſe louers in their amorous deuiſes, wherefore wee will leaue them, and ſee what happened to Galaor, following the ſearch of King L • ſuart.