CHAP. I.

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 [Page 2] 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 [Page 3] 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 [Page 4] 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 [Page 5] 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, [Page 6] 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.

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 [Page 7] 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 [Page 8] (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) [Page 9] 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 [Page 10] 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 [Page 11] 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.

[Page 12] 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.

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, [Page 13] 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 [Page 14] 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 [Page 15] 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, [Page 16] 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 [Page 17] 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 [Page 18] 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 [Page 19] 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.

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, [Page 20] 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 [Page 21] 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 [Page 22] 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 [Page 23] 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 [Page 24] 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.

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 [Page 25] 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 [Page 26] 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 [Page 27] 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 [Page 28] 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 [Page 29] 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 [Page 30] 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 [Page 31] 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 [Page 32] 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.

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, [Page 34] 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 [Page 35] 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 [...] [Page 36] 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 [Page 37] 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 [Page 38] 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 [Page 39] 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.

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 [Page 40] 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 [...] [Page 41] 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 [Page 42] 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 [Page 43] 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.

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, [Page 44] 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 [Page 45] 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 [Page 46] 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.

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 [Page 47] 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 [Page 48] 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 [Page 49] 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 [Page 50] 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 [Page 51] 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 [Page 52] 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, [Page 53] 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 [Page 54] 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 [Page 55] 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.

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 [Page 56] 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 [Page 57] 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 [Page 58] 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 [Page 59] 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, [Page 60] 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.

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 [Page 61] 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 [Page 62] 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 [Page 63] 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 [Page 64] 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 [Page 65] 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.

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 [Page 67] 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 [Page 68] 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 [Page 69] 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, [Page 70] 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, [Page 71] 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 [Page 72] 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 [Page 73] 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.

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 [Page 75] 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, [Page 76] 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 [Page 77] 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 [Page 78] 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, [Page 79] 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 [Page 80] 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 [Page 81] 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.

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. [Page 82] 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 [Page 83] 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 [Page 84] 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 [Page 85] 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. [Page 86] 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, [Page 87] 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 [Page 88] 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 [Page 89] 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. [Page 90] 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 [Page 91] 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.

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 [Page 92] 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 [Page 93] 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 [Page 94] 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 [Page 95] 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, [Page 96] 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 [Page 97] 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 [Page 98] 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 [Page 99] 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 [Page 100] 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.

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 [Page 101] 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 [Page 102] 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, [Page 103] 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 [Page 104] 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, [Page 105] 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 [Page 106] 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. [Page 107] 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.

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 [Page 109] 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 [Page 200] 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 [Page 201] 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, [Page 202] 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 [Page 203] 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 [Page 204] 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 [Page 205] 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 [Page 206] 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.

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 [Page 207] 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 [Page 208] 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 [Page 209] 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 [Page 120] 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 [Page 121] 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 [Page 122] 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.

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 [Page 123] 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 [Page 124] 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 [Page 125] 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, [Page 126] 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. [Page 127] 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 [Page 128] 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? [Page 129] 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 [Page 130] 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.

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 [Page 132] 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 [Page 133] 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 [Page 134] 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 [Page 135] 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 [Page 136] 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.

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 [Page 137] 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 [Page 138] 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 [Page 139] 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, [Page 140] 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 [Page 141] 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.

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 [Page 142] 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, [Page 143] 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 [Page 144] 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. [Page 145] 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 [Page 146] 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 [Page 147] 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 [Page 148] 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 [Page 149] 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 [Page 150] 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.

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 [Page 151] 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 [Page 152] 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 [Page 153] 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.

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 [Page 155] 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 [Page 156] 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, [Page 157] 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 [Page 158] 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, [Page 159] 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.

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 [Page 160] 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 [Page 161] 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 [Page 162] 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 [Page 163] 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 [Page 164] 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.

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 [Page 165] 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 [Page 166] 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 [Page 167] 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 [Page 168] 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.

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, [Page 169] 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 [Page 170] 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 [Page 171] 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 [Page 172] 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. [Page 173] 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.

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 [Page 175] 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: [Page 176] 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.

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 [Page 177] 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 [Page 178] 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 [Page 179] 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.

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 [Page 180] 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 [Page 181] 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, [Page 182] 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.

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? [Page 183] 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 [Page 184] 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 [Page 185] 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.

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 [Page 186] 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 [Page 187] 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 [Page 188] 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 [Page 189] 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 [Page 190] 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.

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 [Page 192] 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 [Page 193] 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 [Page 194] 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.

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, [Page 196] 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 [Page 197] 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 [Page 198] 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 [Page 199] 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 [Page 200] 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, [Page 201] 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? [Page 202] 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.

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 [Page 202] 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 [Page 205] 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. [Page 206] 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 [Page 207] 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 [Page 208] 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 [Page 209] 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.

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 [Page 210] 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 [Page 211] 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 [Page 212] 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 [Page 213] 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 [Page 214] 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 [Page 215] 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 [Page 216] 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.

CHAP. XXXVII.

GAlaor parting from his brother Amadis, in such sort as you heard, followed the way whereby the King was led prisoner, and making great haste, in respect of his ear­nest desire to ouer-take him, had minde of nothing else hee met by the way. As thus hee continued gallopping, hee saw a Knight well armed come riding towarde him, who maruelling why the Prince v­sed such extreame diligence, when hee came neare him, sayd. Stay a while knight, and tell mee what affaires cause you make such speed. Forbeare Sir I pray yee, answered Galaor, for by my tarrying may happen too great an inconueni­ence. By God, sayde the knight, you must not so escape, for you shall tell mee whether you will or no. I may not tri [...]le the time, quoth Galaor, and so rode on still without any [...]ariance. Nay Gal­lant, replyed the knight, I will bee resolued in my demaund, though to your cost. Hereupon hee po­sted after Galaor, still exclaiming on him with hard words, weening he fled away for feare of him, and often times hee thought to smite him with his Launce, but the Prince euermore escaped his at­tempt: yet his horse beeing sore wearied, hindered him very much, when the knight ouer-taking him, thus spake. Infamous palliard, and without heart, of these three things chuse the best, either to combate, returne or answere my demaund. Now trust me, sayd Galaor, the ea­siest of these three is hard to mee, wherein you make no shew of cur­tesie▪ for returne I may not, and if I combate, it must be against my will. But if you desire to know the cause of my haste, followe me and you shall see: for I should tarry too long in telling it, and happely you would scant beleeue mee, so horrible and disloyall is the deed which compelleth me to this im­patience. Beleeue mee, quoth the knight, & I will follow thee three whole dayes, onely to see whether thou lyest or no.

Thus Galaos held on his way, & the knight hasting after, till ha­uing [Page 217] ridden the space of a mile, whē they espied two other knights, the one being on foote running to catch his horse, and the other gal­lopping away so fast as hee could. Hee on foot was Cosen germaine to the knight that followed Galaor, who in iousting with the other knight, had beene dismounted: & knowing his kinsman, acquain­ted him with the whole accident, requesting his assistance in reuenge of his wrong. It may not be now, answered the other, till I haue fol­lowed the knight you see before, three dayes together: hereto bee added all the speeches betweene Galaor and him. In sooth, replied his Cosen, hee should seeme (by your wordes) the greatest coward in the world, else mindeth he some enterprise of higher consequence: therefore I will adiourne the re­uenge of mine iniury, and beare you company, to the ende I may beholde the sum of your attempt. While thus they talked, Galaor had gotten very farre before, which caused them make the more haste after him: till at length the Prince espied the ten knights that condu­cted the King, they riding vppe a narrow straite, fiue before him, & fiue behinde. Now did he fully re­solue to die, or purchase his deliue­rance, for hee was so offended to see the King bound with chaines, as hee imagined himselfe able to conquer them all, & as many more if they had been there, whereupon he thus cryed to them: Traytours, durst you vnreuerently lay hand on the best King in the world? With these wordes he met one of them so directly, as his Launce passing through his body, hee fell downe dead beside his horse. When the other foure saw their companion slaine, they willed the for most fiue to guard the King, for they would reuenge his death sufficiently: but they found themselues very much deceiued, for though the Princes horse (by reason of his sore trauell) often stumbled, and thereby put him in danger of falling, yet laide hee such loade vpon his enemies, as two more of them accompani­ed the first, and the other twaine were brought into hard extreami­ty. Then came the other fiue with a fresh charge vpon him, when Ga­laor perceiuing his owne danger, intended to reuenge his death and the Kings together, entring coura­giously among the thickest, shew­ing most rare and haughty chiual­ry. When the two Cosens that followed him beheld his behaui­our, confounded with maruell, the one sayd to the other. By God we did him wrong to tearme him a coward, for hee is the most hardy knight that euer I saw: except the world shall twit vs with shame, let vs not see him die in this extreami­ty, le [...]t the beauty of chiualry bee gone for euer. Resolued thus to succour him, they valiantly thrust themselues into the skirmish, deli­uering such friendly blowes on e­uery side, that Galaor soone felt himselfe well assisted: because his enemies were somewhat more dis­persed, and hee had leasure to take a little breathing, but wondering whence this aide should proceed, hee fell to worke againe, giuing them good cause to misdoubt their liues. When the Cosen to Ar­calaus sawe how his side decayed, and his knights dishartened, slaine and sore wounded: hee purpo­sed to kill the King: who by this time found the meanes to vnbinde himselfe, and alighting from his horse, got one of the slaine knightes swordes, where-with [Page 218] hee resisted his enemies brauely. As the cosin to Arcalaus followed his intent, the king gaue his horse such a blow ouer the face, as by rearing vp, hee fell downe back-ward; yet the Knight recouered himselfe, and Galaor seeing one fight with the king, came to assist him, when snatching off his hel­met, hee would haue smitten his head from his shoulders: but the king would not suffer him, saying, hee should liue and dye a theefe. The two cosins, who were named Don Guilan and Ladasin, pursued another knight, whome they slew, and returning backe againe, they knew the king, which stroke them into no little maruaile, because they heard nothing of his mis-for­tune: then alighting from their horses, they took off their helmets and did him reuerence, when hee knowing them right well, embra­ced them in his armes, saying. My friends, you haue succoured me in a needefull time, for which I may liue to requi [...]e you with thankes: yet haue you wronged me by your absence from the Court, and for your loue to each other I lost you both, especially, you Lord Guilan, your minde being else-where, made you forget me. These words caused a modest blush in Don Gui­lan, beause the king disciphered his loue, which was the Duchesse of Bristoya, who was not one [...]ot behinde him in affection: as well witnessed the good entertainment she gaue him, tasting together the fruit of their contentment. Which the Duke so doubted, and dayly conceiued such strange suspition thereof, as it procured the iniurie was done to Galaor, when the Dwarffe espied him in the garden, at his returne from faire Aldena; whereby the Damosell was in dan­ger of burning, as the history here-tofore hath declared to you.

But while the king thus com­muned with Don Guilan, Galaor had got the Nephew of Arcalaus beside his horse, and tyed the chaine a­bout his neck, the king was bound withall: then taking the best hor­ses belonged to the dead knights, they rode toward London. And by the way, Ladasin recounted to the king, how he contended with Gala­or for riding so fast, offering him the combate, which he refused be­cause he would delay no time for his succour: which caused the king to require him with many thankes, that he could so well forbeare in a case of such necessity. But my Lord, quoth Don Guil [...], my hap was more hard, for by thinking on her, who oftentimes makes mee to forget my selfe, a knight encoun­tred with mee, and by force of his Lance, cast me from my saddle. In sooth, answered the king, I haue heard talke of many louers, and what they enterprise for their La­dies, yet neuer of any folly com­parable to yours: which giueth me good cause to coniecture, that you were not in vaine named Gui­lan the pensiue, for you are the greatest muser I euer heard of. As thus they beguiled the time, they ariued at the house of Ladasin, which was not farre thence, whi­ther soon after came Galaors squire and Dardan the Dwarffe, who thought his maister had taken that way. Then did Galaor tell the king, how his brother Amadis was gone to reskew his daughter, and in what manner they heard of their seperation by the poore labourers, wherefore he aduised him to send speedily to London, least his mis-hap being published iu the Cittie, might raise some cōmotion amōg [Page 219] the people. Credit me, quoth the king, seeing Amadis vndertooke to follow my daughter, I will not as yet account her lost, if the traytor Arcalaus worke no new villany by his enchantments: but as concer­ning my happy deliuerance, I like well that my Queen should vnder­stand thereof. Whereupon Ladasin called a Squire, whom the king presently sent to the Court as Ga­laor aduised. After they had well refreshed themselues, they were conducted to their chambers, and on the morrowe set forward on their iourney, the king cōmuning with the Nephew of Arcalaus, as concerning the enterprise of his kinsman: which made him reueale the whole determination, and how Barsinan was in hope to be king of Great Brittain. Hereupon the king concluded to make the more haste, thinking to finde Barsinan as yet at London, and to punish him for his audacious presumption.

CHAP. XXXVIII.

I If you haue well no­ted the former dis­course, you may easi­ly remember, how the poor labouring men, (not knowing the king & Oriana) seeing how iniuriously they were intreated by Arcalaus and his com­plices, were glad to hide them-selues in the wood: in like manner, how afterward they vnderstood by Amadis and Galaor, that the pri­soners were king Lisuarts and his daughters. Whereupon, so soone as the two knights were parted from them, they hasted to report these newes in London: which cau­sed such a murmuring through the Citty, especially among the knights, as they presently armed themselues, and mounted on horse backe in such troupes, as the fields were quickly couered with men & horses. At this time was king Ar­ban of Norwales talking with the Queene, little thinking on any mis-fortune: when one of his Squires bringing his Armour, sayde My Lord, you tarry heere tri [...]ing too long, arme your selfe quickely & followe the rest, who by this time haue gotten so farre as the Forrest.

What is the matter, answered King Arban. Ah my Lord, quoth the Squire, newes is brought to the Citie, how certaine villaines haue carried the King away priso­ner. Prisoner? replyed king Ar­ban, may it be possible? Too true my Lord, answered the Squire. When the Queene heard these vnhappy tydings, not able to vndergoe so great an oppression, she fell downe in a swoune: but king Arban ha­uing more minde on the King, left her in her Ladies armes, hasting with all speed hee could to horse-backe. When he was setting foot in stirrop, hee heard the allarme sounded, and the assault which Barsinan gaue to the Castle, where­by hee gathered they were betrai­ed: wherefore hee caused the Queenes lodging to bee guarded, and returning to the Citie, sawe euery one ready in Armes, when chusing so many as hee pleased, [Page 220] as also two hundred well approo­ued knights, hee sent two of the cheefest to the Tower of London, to vnderstād the cause of the allarme. To them it was reported, how Bar­sinan had forcibly entred with his traine, killing and casting ouer the walls al that he met. Herein he fol­lowed the message of the Page from Arcalaus, finding very slender resistance: for most part of the knights and men of account, were gone to succour the king. Highly displeased was king Arban at these newes, perswading himselfe the king had been betrayed, wherefore to preuent such other inconueni­ences that might happen, he ordai­ned his men in battaile, placing good watch about the Queenes lodging. And thither Barsinan now prepared, hoping to take the Queen as hee had done the tower: but he met with stronger resist thē he expected, and the skirmishes proceeding on either side, Barsinan took a prisoner, by whō he was ad­uertised, how king Arbā wold with-stand him euen to the death. Now began hee to deuise, how by faire speech and falshood he might take the king, crauing a parle with him, whereto king Arban willingly a­greed, and silence being made on both sides, Barsinan began in this manner.

I euer thought til now, my Lord, that you were one of the best adui­sed knights in the world, but by proofe I perceiue a man may finde the contrary: yet this I think with­all, that what you doe, is for the safetie of your honor. Herein you appeare of simple iudgement, con­sidering in the end, it will bee but the losse of you and your men: in respect king Lisuart your late Lord is dead, for proofe whereof, euen he that slew him will ere long send me his head. Sith fortune then hath dealt so hardly with him, and I at this instant am the greatest Lord in this countrey: dare you denie to make me king? Alas, you abuse your selfe! the best will be for you, to yeelde your selfe louingly, and I shall entreate you so well as any Prince in my Realm: suffering you still to enioy the countrey of Nor­wales, and particularly beside will so honor you, as you shall haue great reason to be content. Auaunt villaine, answered king Arban, full wel doost thou manifest thy horri­ble treason: for beside thy treache­rie in compacting the death of my Lord, thou wouldest haue mee be­come a traitour to his friends, as thou thy selfe hast prooued. Thou art deceiued, doe the worst thou canst: thy villainie onely will take vengeance on thee according to desert, with such good helpe as we will put thereto. What? said Barsi­nan, think'st thou to hinder me frō sitting as king in London? Neuer shall traitour, replied Arban, bee king of London, by Gods leaue, while the most honourable king of the world liueth. I called for thee, quoth Barsinan, in respect of thine owne good, because I fauoured thee more then any other, imagi­ning thou wert of sound discreti­on: but (as I haue said) I finde my selfe deceiued, wherefore reason requireth, that thy ouer-weening should fall, and (in despite of thee) I will reigne king in great Brittain. Assure thy selfe, answered Arban, I will keepe thee frō such climbing, as if the king my maister were here personally present. Then began the assault afresh, king Arban with-drawing himselfe to harden his men, being maruailously offended at Barsinans words. Now though he were very sharpely assailed, yet [Page 221] stood hee brauely on his defence, many being slaine and sore woun­ded: neuerthelesse, he was euer-more formost in the fight, and last in the retreits which was caused by the night ensuing. Nor neede wee doubt, considering the puissance of Barsinan, and they fewe on the contrary side, but king Arban would take his aduantage in resis­tance, by compelling them to nar­row streets, where foure on a side could hardly deal together, which turned to the great disaduantage of Barsinan, because Arban well for­tified euery place in good order, and with resh supply still encou­raged his men.

The retreit being founded, and either side with-drawne, King Ar­ban seeing his souldiers sore wea­ried, by the hotte skirmishes they had endured: as is the office of a good Captaine indeede hee came and comforted them in this man­ner. My louing companions and friends, this day haue you worthi­ly fought, as none of you but de­serueth estimation, among the most forward men in the world, and hauing begun so well, I hope you will proceede better and bet­ter. Remember the cause of your fight, not onely to maintaine your good king, but your owne liberty: against a tirant, traitour, and what worse? who would buy his vsur­ping in this Kingdome, with the blood of you, your wiues and chil­dren. Saw y ou not how he v­sed them hee tooke in the Tower? Beholde you not the end of his purpose? which is to ruinate this noble Realme, that hath (by diuine prouidence) beene so long time preserued, and euer-more conti­nued in reputation, flourishing with loyal subiects to their Prince? Heard you not the flattering per­swasions, which the Rebell vsed be­fore the assault, thinking to cōquer­vs by his golden tongue? In vaine is his labour, I am right well assu­red, that no one of you but will die a thousand deathes, before he shall conceiue any other minde in you, I see by your resolued countenan­ces, if I should thinke or say other­wise, I were a monstrous offender▪ for if he haue more men then wee, wee haue more hearts of courage then he, which forbiddeth all acca­sions of dismaying, setting before your eyes, the famous account you shal liue in hereafter. By their looks you might diserne at their retire, how vnwillingly they wil be to trie you againe: and respect not the traiterous words of Barsinan, our king liueth, and will right speedily come to succout vs. In meane while I intreat as my friendly com­panions, let nothing dismay your hope, but continue as you haue begun: with famous resolutiō, that is more honourable to die for li­berty, then to enioy a life by thral­dome and slauerie, vnder a wicked, iniurous, and traiterous Prince. When the king had ended his ora­tion, there was no one in the com­pany, how sore hurt soeuer he was, but would couragiously encoun­ter Barsinans power, and bid him brauely good-morrow next day in the Tower: wherewith the king not a little contented, returned to the Queenes lodging his face couered with sweate, and his armour all bloody, by reason of fiue woundes he receiued in fight. The Ladyes seeing him in such pittious plight, were maruailously abashed, espe­cially the Queene, who well neere dead with griefe and fear together then as a woman in middest of des­paire, she said: Alas deer Nephew, what shall wee doe? wee are all but [Page 222] dead. Madame, answered king Ar­ban, all will go well if God be plea­sed, in vaine doe you thus discom­fort your selfe, for I hope to heare good tydings of the King: and his traytours that seeke to vsurpe the kingdome, by your good and loy­all subiects shall receiue deserued punishment. God grant it, quoth she, but you are so wounded, as I thinke it impossible for you to bee at the battell, if Barsinan come to morrow againe, nor can our men doe anything without you. Be not you troubled therewith Madame, replyed king Arban, for while my soule sucks her spirit from the ayre, I will not forsake my charge. So bidding her good night, hee went to haue his wounds dressed, and afterward turned to his souldiers, merrily passing the night among them.

Barsinan on the other side, got into the Tower of London which he had wonne, and numbring his men, found that his power was greatly weakened: yet would hee make no shew thereof for dismay­ing the rest, but shewing a dissem­bling countenance, thus spake to them. My friends, it sufficeth that I haue shewen mine enemies what you are, and they (if I think good) to stand at my mercy: wherfore I am determined (without any fur­ther losse of you) to rest our selues fiue or sixe dayes, till Arcalaus send me the head of king Lisuart, and then the sight therof, wil make thē not dare to resist mee any longer, but in hope of fauour, will yeeld themselues. Each of you therefore reioyce and be of good cheere, for when I am King, right richly will I reward you all. So went they to rest till the next morning, when Barsinan (being armed) mounted on horse-backe, with twenty knights in his company, and came to a Port which one of king Arbans knights kept, who seeing this troupe, presently sounded an al­larme. But Barsinan sent him word how hee came to parle onely, and desired truce beside for six houres: whereof king Arban was immedi­atly aduertised, who granted the truce Barsinan required, & likewise for fiue dayes. Conditionally, that he should offer no violence to any house in the City, or practise any entrance during the limited time: beside, if the King returned in that space, the difference should bee left to his disposition. Barsinan was contented with these conditi­ons, because hee accounted king Lisuarts death certaine, whereup­on hee saide to Arban. I hope this little truce, will be an entrance into a perpetuall peace betweene vs: for I dare assure yee, king Lis­uart is dead, and his daughter must be my wife, as within these fiue dayes ensuing you shall euidently see. What? quoth king Arban, thou hast then put him to death: and couldst thou deale so treate­rously with him, that gaue thee such honourable entertainement in his Court? rather will I present­ly die, then continue one houre of peace with thee, get thee gone therefore quickly, or I will send thee hence in peeces. Is it true? quoth Barsinan, well mayest thou threaten me, but it is in me to make thee repent it. Thus returned hee to his souldiers, acquainting them with his honest offers to king Ar­ban, and the audacious answere he returned for them.

CHAP. XXXIX.

NOt long agoe we left Amadis in the wood, familiarly deuising with the Princesse O­riana, thinking on no­thing but their sweete contentati­on: and among other discourse, Amadis intreated her to tell him, what speeches Arcalaus had with her by the way. On my faith Sir, quoth she, he confounded my sen­ses with perswading mee to re­ioyce, saying. Before fiue dayes were expired, I should raigne as Queene in Great Brittaine, enioy­ing Barsinan to my husband: him-selfe likewise should be chiefe Go­uernour and Maister of his house, in recompence of the seruices hee did for him, in giuing him my fa­thers head, and mee to be his wife. Ah heauens, sayde Amadis, what treason is this in Barsinan, who shewed himselfe such a friend to the king? God shield hee doe no wrong to the Queene. In sooth, I greatly doubt it, replyed Oriana, it were good therefore wee hasted to see. With all my heart, quoth A­madis: so mounting on horse-backe, they rode toward London, meeting many knights by the way that followed the King, whom still hee directed in their course, certi­fying them that Galaor was gone likewise in his search. Within a while after, Oriana espied Don Gru­medan an auncient knight of ho­nour to the Queene, and twenty knights more with him, who all that night had searched the Forrest for the king: but when hee sawe her, the teares stoode in his eyes with ioy, desiring to heare some newes of the King her father. Cre­dit mee Sir, quoth shee, not farre from the Citie were we sundered, when God ordayned so well for me, that Amadis deliuered me frō the villaines, and ransomed mee with the price of their liues. They were vnwise to resist, saide Grume­dan, when you had so good a Champion: but I pray you my Lord, what is become of your bro­ther? Euen in the same place, an­swered Amadis, where they sepa­rated the father from the daughter: we seuered our selues, hee posting after the King, and I followed Ar­calaus, who led away Madame O­riana. The better hope haue I of his succour, quoth Grumedan, see­ing so good a knight hath taken it in hand.

Hereupon, Amadis tolde him the horrible treason of Arcalans and Barsinan: Let me therefore in­treate yee, quoth hee, to conduct the Princesse leasurably after, while I make haste before least the Queen be distressed, because I doubt the traytor will her offer iniury. I think it likewise expedient, that you cause all the knights to returne you meete withall: for if the King should bee reskewed by multi­tude of men, there is enow be­fore already, and more then needs. So leauing his Lady with Don Grumedan, hee made all the haste hee could towarde London, ouerta­king the Squire by the way that came from the king, who told him all the newes of his deliuerance, which was no little ioy to Amadis, [Page 224] hearing the fortunate successe of his brother Galaor. There met hee with another likewise, who made report of Barsinans dealings at London, wherefore entring the Ci­tie so couertly as hee might, the first hee met withall was king Ar­ban, of whom hee was louingly embraced and welcommed, with request of what newes he brought. None but good, answered Ama­dis, and such as you are desirous to heare: but because I doubt the Queene is scant merry, let vs goe see her, for happely shee will bee glad of our comming. So rode they to the Court together, Ama­dis still keeping the Squire with him that came from the king, and when they entered the Queenes presence, Amadis falling on his knee, beganne in this manner. Ma­dame, this Gentleman left the King well this morning, and at li­berty, whereof his Maiesty certi­fieth you by him: my selfe likewise (not long since) left your daugh­ter with Don Grumedan, and very shortly they will be with you. But because I vnderstand that Barsinan molesteth you with trechery, suffer vs I pray you to goe see what hee can doe. When the Queen heard these ioyfull tydings, her inwarde content tooke away the liberty of of her speech, nor could she doe any thing but lift her hands & eyes to heauen, applauding his name from whence this good procee­ded, and by gestures deliuering some signe of thankes to Amadis. At length hauing ouercome this delightfull passion, and intending to question further concerning these newes: the allarme was soun­ded, wherefore king Arban and A­madis hyed to the barres, where they found Barsinans men giuing an eager charge, as hoping to con­quer the contrarie part. But Ama­dis thrusting himselfe for-most, caused the bars to be taken down, and accompanied with king Ar­ban, brake in couragiously vpon the enemy, a noble president to their souldiers, who beeing chee­red by this onset, tooke heart and followed. Now wexed the skir­mish to be hot indeed, so that on both sides very many were slaine, which Barsinan perceiuing, & tru­sting in his multitude to suppresse the weaker part, came formost himselfe in person, thinking (now hee saw the barres open) to driue his aduersaries backe againe into the Citie. When Amadis noted his forwardnesse he stepped backe, & changed his Creast and Shield with a simple mercinary souldier: yet reseruing his Launce, which with a strong carreer pierced tho­rough his Armour, and wounding Barsinan, brake in peeces in his flesh. Then drawing his sword, he gaue him such a stroke on the hel­met, as hee was astonied therewith, and redoubling his blowe, cut his right arme quite from his shoul­der: when Barsinan (feeling himself so wounded) would haue retyred backe, to saue himselfe by the speed of his horse, but hee fell to the ground as depriued of his sences. Wherefore Amadis left him, and set vpon the rest, who beeing vnable to endure these hotte as­saults, likewise beholding their Lord dismounted: took thēselues to flight for safety of their liues, yet were they so closely followed, as the most part of them were slain in the field, and some few of them escaped into the Tower, causing the bridge to be quickly drawen vp after them.

Hereupon Amadis returned where he left Barsinan & because he [Page 215] was not yet dead, commanded he should be carried to the Queenes lodging, there to bee kept till the Kings returne: and as hee would haue put vp his sword, hee sawe it soyled with blood, wherefore in wiping it, hee saide: Thou trustie sworde, in a happy houre was the knight born to whom thou belon­gest: and as thou art one of the best in the world, so is thy Master the most vertuous Prince liuing. He vsed these words, because it ap­pertained to King Lisuart, and was sent him from the Queene by Gan­dalin, as you heard before: but now returnes hee with king Arban to the Queenes lodging, to com­fort her with newes of happie vi­ctory.

All this while the King is hasting toward London, giuing order to returne all the knights hee met by the way, among whom were A­graies, Galuanes, Soliuan, Galda [...], Di­nada [...]s, and Bernas: all which were highly in the Kings fauour, as men of vertue and no small deseruing: and his Maiesty hauing imbraced them, said. My noble good friends, you had almost lost mee, but God bee thanked, you haue recouered mee againe, by the helpe of these three worthy knights Galaor, Gui­lan, and Ladasin. In sooth my Lord, answered Dinada [...]s, so soon as your mishap was knowen in the Citie, each one prepared to bring you succour. I knowe my good Nephew, quoth the king, that I am greatly beholding to you all: but I pray you take good store of these knights, and post with speed to as­sist the Queene, for I doubt she is in no little danger. This Dinada [...]s was one of the best knights of the kings linage, and well esteemed a­mong men of account, as well in respect of his vertues, as also his braue behauiour in chiualry: so according to the kings command, he rode away presently very braue­ly accompanied.

The king likewise followed an indifferent pace, left his Nephew should stand in need of helpe, and by the way he ouertooke Don Gru­medan with his daughter Oriana. How ioyfull this meeting was, you may easily conceiue, that the sepa­ration was not so grieuous, but this was as gladsome. Grumedan told his Maiesty, how Amadis left the Princesse with him, while hee rode before to assist the Queene: thus with repetition of many mat­ters, they beguiled the time till they arriued at London, where hee vnderstoode the successe of Barsi­nans enterprise, and how valiantly King Arban had resisted him, not forgetting the worthy behauiour of Amadis, in taking him prisoner and discomfiting his men, except a few that saued themselues in the Tower.

Here would it aske a worlde of time, to report the ioy, pleasure, and contentment betweene the King and Queen at their meeting, likewise the mothers comfort ha­uing recouered her daughter a­gaine: but as your iudgements can better conceiue then I set downe, matter aboue the reach of com­mon capacity, so doe I leaue it to you, and proceed to the King. Who to terrifie the traytours thus gotten into holde, besieged them seuerally, and to dishearten them the more, brought Barsinan & Ar­calaus Nephew before the walles, where before all the people they confessed their treason. Which be­ing done, a great fire was made, wherein they were aliue consu­med, but when they in the Tower beheld this spectacle, and that [Page 226] they were in great want of victals, they yeelded themselues to the Kings mercy, the most part of thē being (for examples sake) hanged on the battlements, and the rest set at liberty vpon humble submis­sion. Yet this matter bred very great trouble afterward, betweene them of Great Brittaine & Sansue­gua: for the sonne of Barsinan be­ing a good knight, vexed king Lis­uart with contagious warre, as in the History hereafter at large is mentioned.

After the King had escaped these misfortunes, the former ioyes and pastimes beganne againe: during which time, the Lady and her two sonnes (the messengers of Madasi­ma, who were witnesses when Gala­or and Amadis promised to forsake king Lisuarts seruice) arriued at the Court. When the two Princes were aduertised thereof, they went and friendly entertained her, shee saying: Gentlemen you know the cause of my comming, are you de­termined to keepe your promise? We are, quoth they, and will not breake our couenant with Madasi­ma, but presently will performe it before the King. Entring the great Hall, the Lady fell on her knees before his Maiesty, deliuering these speeches. My Lord, I am come to your Court, to see if these two knights will obserue a couenant, which in my presence they made to a Lady. What was it? answered the King. A matter that will scant like you, quoth the Lady, or any such as beare you affection: and thereto shee added the whole cir­cumstance. Wherat the King wax­ing somewhat offended, told Galaor that hee had very much wronged him. My Lord, replyed Galaor, it was better to do so, then be treche­rously slaine, for had wee beene knowne, neither you, nor all the world could haue saued our liues: but let not your Maiesty be offen­ded, for the remedy shall be more ready then you expect. In accom­plishing my promise to Madasi­ma of Gantasi, my Lord I take my leaue of you, departing altogether from your seruice: certifying you that it is her will to doe you this displeasure, and worse if she should compasse it, for the extreame mal­lice she beareth to you. Amadis af­firmed what his brother had done, then Galaor turning to the Lady & her two sonnes, sayd. Haue we not now accomplish our promise? Yes truely, quoth the Lady, wee must needs auouch so much. You may then returne when you please, an­swered Galaor, but tell Madasima, she did not so much as she weened, as you may perceiue by the present effect. Now my Lord, quoth he to the King, we haue fulfilled our pro­mise to Madasima, and because in graunting her earnest desire, the time was not limited how long we should leaue your seruice: we may enter thereinto againe when you please to command, so that we are yours as faithfull as before. When the King and all that were present heard what had past, they reioyced exceedingly, esteeming Galaor & Amadis well aduised herein: where-upon the King thus spake to the Lady. According to her great treason vnder shaddowe of good meaning, they are bound to no more then they haue accomplish­ed: for to deceiue the deceiuer is no deceit. And say to Madasima; seeing she hateth me so vnreasona­bly, she once had thē in her power, who might haue grieued me all my life time: but God hauing in other places deliuer'd me frō many perils wil not suffer me to perish by so bad [Page 227] woman as she is. I desire yee my Lord, quoth she, to tell mee their names. The one is Amadis, answe­red the King, and the other his brother Galaor. May it be possible, sayde the Lady, that Madasima had Amadis in her power? Credit me, quoth the King, I haue tolde yee truth. Their fortune was good, replyed the Lady, for they might not haue escaped if she had known them: and in sooth the deede might bee reckoned ominous, if two such worthy persons had pe­rished. Yet when she shall knowe hereof, sayd the King, I thinke she will forbeare to wrong me any fur­ther. With that the Lady tooke her leaue, shaping her course the same way she came.

CHAP. XL.

TWelue dayes toge­ther (after these mis­haps) did King Lis­uart continue his Court in all magnifi­cence, many noble personages be­ing there assembled, as wel strāgers as others, hoping now to make lit­tle stay but to return home to their owne houses: yet the greater part of them aboad with the King, in like manner did sundry worthy La­dies accompany the Queene. A­mong other knights attending on the King, were Don Guilan the pen­siue, and his Cosen Ladasin, who (as I haue sayde) were very good knights: but Guilan was the better of the twaine, for very fewe were found in the Realme of Great Brit­taine, that carried more account for deeds of Armes, and all other graces beseeming a knight, setting aside his musing and melancholy. By meanes whereof, fewe or none could bee pleasant with him, or haue any words from him in com­pany: but loue procured these ex­treames, busying his thoughts in such sort with his Lady, as hee had minde of none but her. And shee of whom wee speake, was endued with singular beauty, being named Brandalisia, sister to the Kings wife of Sobradisa, and ioyned in marri­age with the Duke of Bristoya: who now was arriued at the Court, to answere the accusation Oliuas laide against him. The King gaue him very gentle welcome, and beeing in the presence of many great Lords, the Duke beganne in this manner. Sir, you haue comman­ded my appearance here this day, to iustifie my selfe before your Ma­iesty, concerning a crime Oliuas chargeth mee withall: whereof I hope sufficiently to cleare my selfe, by the rightfull iudgement your selfe shall giue, and hee rest con­demned like a varlet as hee is: for here am I ready to approue against him, or any other hee shall bring, that I neuer committed treason or so foule a deed.

At these wordes Oliuas arose, and with him a great nūber of knights errant, all resolued to maintayne this quarrell against the Duke: when the King beheld them in such a mutiny, hee maruelled whence the cause should proceede, when [Page 228] Grumedan speaking for all the rest, sayd. My Lord, because the Duke of Bristoia hath threatened and de­fied all knights errant, we are rea­dy to answere his challenge. In good faith, answered the King, if it bee so, hee hath attempted an ouer fond warre, for I thinke there is no knight in the worlde so puis­sant, that will bee induced to such an entetprise. But forbeare at this time, and offer him no iniury, be­cause he is heere to receiue iustice: which shall be done, according to the counsell of the Princes and Lords present, without fauouring any one. Then Oliuas falling on his knee before the King, beganne in this manner. My Lord, the Duke who standeth before your Maiesty, hath slaine a Cosen germaine of mine, hee neuer giuing him occa­sion of offence: wherefore I will iustifie him to bee a villaine and a traytour, and will make him con­fesse it with his owne mouth, else shall I kill him and cast him forth of the field. The Duke tolde him hee lyed, and hee was ready to ac­complish what the King and his Court should ordaine: wherupon it was determined, that this emula­tion should bee decided by com­bate, which the Duke accepted, desiring the King to permit him & his two Nephewes in this cause, against Oliuas and two other knights. This being granted, the Duke was very glad thereof, for he made such account of his kinsmen, as hee thought Oliuas could not bring the like: notwithstanding, all was deferred till the morrowe following.

In meane while, Don Galuanes asked his Nephew Agraies, if hee wold assist Oliuas against the Duke, and hee consenting thereto, Galua­nes came to Oliuas, saying. Sir O­liuas, seeing the Duke is desirous to fight three against three, my ne­phew and I are determined to take your part: which when the Duke heard, hee remembred that he had defied them in his owne house, when Agraies combated with the Dwarffes champion, at what time the Damosell should haue beene burned: wherefore hee became ve­ry pensiue, in respect though he e­steemed his Nephewes approued good knights, yet he repented his wilfull offer, & gladly would haue excused the matter if hee could, being so well acquainted with the behauiour of Galuanes & Agraies. But considering his promise past before the King, and so many no­ble personages there present, hee must of necessity stand thereto: wherefore the next morning hee entered the Listes with his Ne­phewes, and Oliuas on the contra­rie with his copartners. Now were the Ladies standing at the win­dowes, to beholde the issue of this quarrell, and among the rest stood Oliuia the faire friend to Agraies, who seeing him ready to enter such perill, was so dismayed, as she could scant tell what countenance to vse. By her stood Mabila, shee being in no lesse griefe for her Vn­cle and brother together: likewise the Princesse Oriana, louing them both, in respect of the reasons heretofore declared, accompanied the two Ladies in sorrowe, fearing their danger: but the knights be­ing ready to the combate, the King by a Herald commanded the Champions to doe their deuoyre. Heereupon with a braue carreer they encountred together, Agraies and Galuanes vnhorsing the two Nephewes, and albeit Oliuas re­ceiued a wound on the stomacke, yet had not the Duke caught [Page 229] hold about his horse neck, his for­tune had proued as had as his Ne­phewes. Thē drawing their swords, they smote so violently against ech other, as the standers by wondered at their fiercenes: beholding their shields defaced, their armour bat­tred & coullered with their blood, that the victorie hung a long time in suspence. For Agrates horse be­ing slaine vnder him, brought his life in maruailous hazard, because the Duke and one of his Nephews stroue to keep him downe, seeking to thrust their swords into his bel­ly, or else to smite his head from his shoulders: but he was so well armed, and of such courage with­all, as hee held them both play, though with exceeding perill. Well may you thinke, that his friends grieued to see him in this distresse, especially the three La­dyes, of whom we spake so lately, whose cheekes were bedewed with whole fountaines of teares, and wofull Oliuia seemed rather dead then liuing. But had he long con­tinued in this extreamity, her la­test houer must needes haue ensu­ed, yet at length he recouered him-selfe, charging the Duke and his Nephewes with such puissant strokes, as well declared his hardy courage. Oliuas all this while was in such case, by reason of the sore wound the Duke gaue him, that he could hardly defend himselfe: which the Duke perceiuing, hee left his Nephew with Agraies, and assailing Oliuas very roughly, made him fall downe in a great astonish­ment. But as he would haue slaine him, Agraies stepped betweene thē (hauing dispatched his enemie of his head) and hindred the Duke from his determination, woun­ding him in many places on his body, that he could scant tel which way to turne him. Don Galuanes likewise hauing slaine the other Nephew, came to assist Agraies a­gainst the Duke, who seeing his life at the latest exigent, turned his horse to escape away: but A­graies gaue him such a stroke on the helmet, as hee fell beside his saddle, with one of his feete han­ging in the stirrop, when the horse being at libertie, feeling his bur­then hang on the one side, ranne flinging vp and downe, none be­ing able to reskew the Duke, till his necke was broken with drag­ging along. Hereupon Agraies left him, returning to his vncle to know how he fared. Very well I thanke God, answered Galuanes, but it grieueth mee that Oliuas is dead, for hee lieth still and moueth not. Right sorry likewise was Agraies to heare these words, wherefore commanding the Duke and his Nephewes bodyes to be throwne foorth of the field, they came both to Oliuas, and finding him aliue, as also his wounds not to be mor­tall, they bound them vp so well as they could, saying. Friend Oli­uas, be of good cheere, for though you haue lost very much blood, yet doubt wee not of your health, because wee finde little danger in your hurts, Alas my Lords, quoth Oliuas, my heart fainteth, and al­beit I haue beene heeretofore wounded, yet neuer was I in such debilitie. Then the King desi­red to knowe whether hee were dead or no, and when it was tolde him, how hee wanted no­thing but speedy cure: hee com­manded him to bee honourably caryed into the Citie, and his own cirurgions to attend on his health, euen as it were his owne person: which he did, promising, to deliuer him well againe within few daies.

[Page 230] Thus euery one returned, dispu­ting diuersly on the end of the Combat, and according to their particular affections, so that soone after, the Queene (who was one of the best Ladies in the world) was aduised to send for the wife to the deceased Duke, that in the Court shee might weare away the cause of her melancholly, and to dispatch this businesse, shee sent Don Grumedan to her requesting she would bring her, Neece Aldena with her, whereof Galuanes was not a little glad, especially Don Guilan, who was the friend and beloued of the Dutchesse. Not long after, she and her Neece arriued at the Court, where they were right no­bly feasted and entertayned. Thus the King spent the time in the Cit­ty of London, accompanied with many great Lords, knights and La­dies, because the fame was blazed throught the world, of his honou­rable courtesie to strange Knights: which drew an exceeding number to his court, whom he rewarded ve­ry bountifully, hoping (by their meanes) not onely to confirme his Realme in peace, but likewise to conquere other, which some-time had beene subiect and tribu­tary to his Crown, yet through the pusillanimity and negligence of the Kinges his predecessors, were lost and discontinued their former obedience.

CHAP. XLI.

HEretofore it hath beene declared, how Amadis, being with Briolania, promised to reuenge the King her Fathers death, against Abiseos, and his two Sonnes, which in one year after he should performe, be­ing accompanied with two other Knights. Also how when he tooke his leaue of her, shee gaue him a Sword, because his owne was broken, desiring him to weare it for her sake: which Sword was af­terward broken at the Ladies Ca­stle, who was the beloued of An­grioted Estrauaus, when he com­batted with Gasinan, and comman­ded Gandalin to bring away the peeces thereof: which occasioned great harme not long after, not by any fault of him, but by the indis­cretion of Dardan the Dwarffe, who imagined his master loued the faire Briolania, in respect he offe­red himselfe to be her Knight.

One day therefore, Amadis be­ing with King Lisuart, euermore delighting with his Lady Oriana, to the no little contentation of thē both: Loue, who often-times pro­uoketh his Subiects, would no longer continue them in so great ease, but rayse some cinders of di­uision, wherby they might receiue discontentment. For this cause he made Amadis remember his pro­mise to Briolania, that he should combat Abiseos within one yeare the end whereof was now at hand: and being loth to faile therein, he sought all conuenient meanes to take his leaue of the Princesse Oria­na, determining to acquaint her with the whole cause, in what sort Briolania was disinherited of her fathers kingdom: such were his dis­courses on her behalf, that although [Page 231] Oriana was loth to grant what hee demanded, or to permit his ab­sence from her: yet being ouer­come with compassion, she restrai­ned her will, and in middest of her sorrow, said: Deere friend, I know well that your speeches are reaso­nable, but the wrong you do me; aloweth no excuse: Yet in respect I loue ye, as you are well assured, it is conuenient I should preferre your honor before mine own plea­sure. You haue promised (as you tell me) to succour a disinherited Lady, I am content, seeing there is no other remedy, though my consent be with greater griefe then you weene: for my minde is per­swaded, some mischiefe will hap­pen to me by this voyage. Madam, answered Amadis, vnwilling am I to giue you any occasion of dislike or to attempt any thing against your minde, rather could I wish neuer to haue beene borne: Let Briolania then pardon my tarrying, for I hold my selfe sufficiently ex­cused, seeing my departure is not agreeable to you. Not so sweete friend, replyed Oriana, I am wil­ling you shall go: but make a spee­dy returne I pray you. With twen­ty kisses was this separation sealed, and shee desired him to acquaint the Queene there with, that this iourney might be shaddowed vn­der her commandement: which he did, and on the morrow departed with Galaor and Agraies, when they had not ridden past halfe a Mile, but he asked Gandalin, if hee had brought with him the peeces of the Sword that Briolania gaue him when hee left her. No my Lord, answered Gandalin. Returne then quoth Amadis to the Dwarffe, and when thou hast them, make what speede thou canst to ouertake vs. Alas, had he but misdoubted the mishap followed hereon, hee neuer would haue sent such a mes­senger: For by his rechlesse spee­ches, he endaungered the liues of Amadis and Oriana together, as shall hereafter be largely descri­bed.

Gone is the Dwarffe to his Ma­sters lodging, and finding the pec­ces of the Sworde, in the place where Gandalin had directed him, returned hastily toward his Master: but passing by the Queenes lodg­ing, he heard one call him, when looking about, he espied the Prin­cesses Oriana and Mabila, who de­manded wherefore he had left A­madis. Madame, quoth he, I haue not beene so long from him, but I can quickly ouertake him: for this which I carry, will let him make no great hast till I come. What is it? said Oriana. What? answered the Dwarffe, I can assure ye Madame, he prizeth them more then they be worth, for her sake that gaue him the Sword. What is she? quoth O­riana. The Lady, replyed the Dwarffe, for whom he now vnder-takes the combat. And though you be daughter to the best King in the World, as also fayrer (in mine opinion) then any other: yet ra­ther should you haue gained her conquest, then all the wealth in this kingdome.

I know not what thou meanest said Oriana, vnlesse thy master haue giuen himselfe to her? You haue guessed right Madam, answe­red the Dwarffe, he is altogther at her commandement, thinking himselfe happy to be her Knight. So taking his leaue, hee posted to ouer-take his Master, who little thought on these slanderous reports: But Oriana entred in­to such a Iealousie, as without regard of any thing whatsoeuer, [Page 232] shee would haue cast her selfe forth at the window, had not Ma­bila and the Damosell of Denmarke stayed her. Now riseth frowning anger in her brows, and she to mis­conceiue of the man, whose onely desire was to do her seruice, With often wringing her hands, she cal­leth to remen brance, in what ear­nest affection he desired leaue for this voyage, which augmented her suspition of the Dwarffes wordes: and in such sort was her heart shut vp, as no teare might fall from her eyes, because those vapours were withdrawne to the most worthie places in her. Hereupon her tor­ments redoubled in extreames, as Dido for the the tromperie of AE­neas, or sad Medea, seeing her selfe forsaken of her friend Iason, neuer feltsuch anguish: and in fatall for­tune shee would haue succeeded them, but that she was hindred by them about her, who found the meanes to defend her from such mishap.

By this time the Dwarffe ouer-tooke Amadis and the rest, when they began to ride somwhat faster, Amadis not requiring any thing of him, nor he reciting what he tolde the Princesse, but shewed him the peeces of the Sworde he brought. Not farre had they ridden, but they met a Damosell, who after she had saluted them, demanded whi­ther they trauailed, saying, shee would aduise them to forsake that way. Wherefore? answered Ama­dis. Because, quoth she, for the space of fifteene dayes, no Knight errant passed this way, but he hath beene eyther wounded or slaine. And who hath done them such dis­pleasure? said Amadis. A Knight, answered the Damosell, the most valiant man at Armes that euer was seene. I pray ye Damosell, quoth Agraies, bring vs where wee may see him. You cannot ride far in this Forrest, said she, but he will quickly shew himselfe. So trauail they on with the Damosell, and long time they neyther heard nor saw any one, which made them thinke shee spake these words to feare them: yet sooreafter, Ama­dis espyed the Knight, who seemed a man of goodly stature, and ready prepared for the combat. As hee and his companions stood behol­ding him, they heard him speak to a squire, who reared foure Launces against a Tree, and afterward came to them, saying. Gentlemen, my Maister giueth you to vnderstand, how during the space of fifteene dayes, hee hath vndertaken the guard of this Forrest, in all which time his fortune hath beene, not to be vanquished by any one: And though it be a day and a halfe since his intended tearme is expired, yet stayeth hee here till now for the pleasure he hath in Iousting. And as he was departing hence, he espi­ed you comming: wherefore hee letteth you know, that if each of you will breake a Launce, he careth not to try his fortune with you, prouided, that the combat at the Sword be spared, because hee sil­dome proceedeth so farre without doing more harme then willingly he would.

When Agraies heard this message, hee tooke his Armes, returning this answere. Friend, goe tell thy Maister I am content to try the loust with him. Hereup­on, he gaue the spurres to his horse, and the knight seeing him com­ing, gaue forth to meete him, their Launces being broken in the in­counter: But Agraies was easily cast from his Horse, of which foyle he could not but be ashamed. [Page 233] Galaor beholding his Cozin dif­mounted, determined to reuenge his wrong, bidding the knight to prepare himselfe, who taking ano­ther Launce, ran against Galaor with such furie, as after their staues were broken, their bodies met to­gether so vehemently, that Galaors horse being more feeble then the other, fell downe with his Master on bis back, but the Prince not re­couering himselfe, was left on the ground, when the horsearose, and ran about the field, as the other of Agraies did. Amadis abashed at these accidents preparing himself, said to the Knight. I know not what thou art, but thou maist vant, that thou hast dismounted two ap­proued good Knights. So coutch­ing his Launce, proceeded for­ward, but Galaor stayed him, cal­ling the Knight to the combat, which made Amadis thus to an­swere. Brother, finde not your s [...]e agrieued with him, because he sent vs word before the Ioust, that he would not combat with the Sword: but I hope to take reuenge for all.

Herewith they encountred valiantly together, breaking their Launces so couragiously, and mee­ting with their bodies so violently, as Amadis was thrown to the earth his horses shoulder being broken in the fall: in like manner was the Knight dismounted, bat keeping the reynes of his bridle in his hand, he quickly mounted on horse back againe, when Amadis, thus spake to him. We must trie one course more, if thou wilt haue the honor, for as yet it is not won, because we both were vnhorsed. I will not now Ioust any more, answered the Knight. Then you do me wrong, replied Amadis. Redresse it if you can said the Knight: for according to my order before the Ioust, I am bound to no more then what I haue done. After these words, he gallopped away through the For­rest so fast as he could: which when Amadis, and his companions saw, they being all on foote, they stood as men ashamed, for they could not imagine what he was that thus intreated them, whereupon Ama­dis mounted on Gandalins horse, saying to his friends: Follow me if you please, for it would grieue me not to know the name of this Knight. In sooth, answered the Da­mosell, it were the greatest folly in you, aboue all the knights belon­ging vnto King Lisuart, to thinke you can finde him in one whole yeere, vnlesse you be directly gui­ded. Faire Damosell, said Galaor, it may be you know what he is, and the place where he abideth. On my faith, quoth she, if I know any thing thereof, I meane not to tell it you: for neuer will I iniurie so good a Knight. Damosell, replied Galaor, by the affection you beare to the thing you most loue in the World, tell vs I pray ye what you know in this matter. You coniure me in vaine, quoth she, for neuer will I discouer his affaires, ex­cept you deliuer me some good present.

Demand what you will answe­red Amadis, and you shall haue it, on condition you helpe vs to finde the knight. I am content, replyed the Damosell, if first you will tell mee your names, and af­terward each of you grant me a boone, at what time I shall de­mand them of you: With all our hearts, quoth Amadis: as for our names, the one is Galaor, the other Agraies, and my selfe am Ama­dis. When the Damosell heard this, shee was very glad, saying: [Page 234] Certes my Lord, my iourney is shortned, for I seeke you. Then you haue now found me, answered Amadis, what is your will with me? That you shall know, quoth shee, when time serueth: but do you not remember the combate, which you promised to performe for the king of Sobradisaes daughter, when shee succoured you by meanes of the Lyons? Yes that I doe, sayde Amadis, and now am I riding to­ward her. Would you then, quoth the Damosell, follow a knight so hard to be found, and the time for the combate beeing neerer then you weene? She saith very well my Lord, answered Galaor, doe you therefore and Agraies proceede on your iourney, and I will seeke the knight with this Damosell: for ne­uer shal I rest til I haue found him: & if it be possible, I will be with you before you deale with Abiseos. Be it so, replied Amadis, but she pro­mised vs to tell his name, & where we may find him. His name, quoth the Damosell, I cannot tell ye, for I know it not my selfe, and yet I haue beene a moneth with him, in which time I haue seene him doe such deedes of armes, as without fight thereof I would neuer haue credited: but where he is now, I can conduct him thither that will goe with me. It is all I request, an­swered Galaor. Follow mee then, quoth she: so taking their leaue, they seperated themselues.

Thus Amadis and Agraies hold on their way, arriuing within fewe dayes after at the Castle of Torin, where they sound the faire Brtola­nia, with the ancient Lady: but when Amadis beheld her, he found her maruailously changed, for if shee were faire when hee first sawe her, she now seemed of such excel­lent perfection, 25 (except Oriana,) he reputed her the most beautifull creature in the world, whereupon he sayde to Agraies. If nature was desirous to expresse her cunning in a creature, in this Lady she hath most sufficiently accomplished it. My Lord, quoth she, full long haue we expected your comming, for in you consisteth our onely hope. Madame, answered Amadis, by the helpe of God, I trust you shall re­couer your losse, and we will doe our vttermost therein. As thus they deuised, they entred a faire chamber, where mantles were brought to wrap about them, and Briolania holp to vnarme Amadis, for she could not be satisfied with beholding him, because she coun­ted him the fairest knight that euer was seene, being now but twenty yeeres of age. And so pier­cingly did hee regard her, as long time after she waved amourous, so that when she had recouered her Kingdome, she wished him sole Lord of her and her countrye together, as shall heereafter be declared. But Amadis was else-where addicted, and gaue suffi­cient proofe to her, that the ex­treame anguishes hee endured for his Oriana, were manifest ex­amples of his stedfastloyalty. Ne­uerthelesse, the young Lord of Por­tugall pitrying faire Brtolania, would disguise this historie in an­other manner, describing farre o­therwise the loue of her & Amadis, which report is worthy of no cre­dit. For he saith, that Brtolania be­ing restored into her Kingdome, prouiding for the health of Amadis and Agraics, who were wounded, she cōtinuing euermore amorous of Amadis, seeing by no means shee could winne him to bee her friend, tooke aside the Damo­sell, to whome Amadis, Galaor [Page 235] and Agraies made the seuerall pro­mises, at what time she conducted Galaor to the knight that iousted with them in the Forrest, and dis­couering the chiefest secrets of her Heart to her, with aboun­dance of teares and affectionate sighes, requested her counsell and remedy in these amorous passions. The Damosell compassionate on her Ladies sicknesse, promised to giue her redresse for it, whereupon she said to Amadis, that the boone she would desire of him, was his entrance into the Tower, from whence he should not depart, vn­till he had begotten of Briolania a Sonne or a Daughter. Amadis wil­ling to keepe promise with the Damosel, yeelded therto, yet with­out any will to touch Briolania: whereby he grew into such melan­cholly, as he refused all bodily sustenance, and fell into such dan­ger of his person, as euery houre he expected death. Which being heard in the Court of king Lisuart, as also his deadly dangerous ex­treamitie: Oriana (loth to lose him) sent him word and licence, that he should do what the Lady reque­sted. Whereupon Amadis con­sidering hee might no way else e­scape, and his gracious Mistresse pittyed him so much, he begat a Sonne and a daughter of Briolania, whereof she was deliuered of at one labour: but this History is al­together false and faigned. It might be that Amadis was priso­ner in the Tower, and Briolania be­held his daily pining away: but she desired the Damosell to remit him this boone, on condition he should not depart till his brother Galaor returned, as willing to com­fort her selfe with the sight of him, while she attended his brothers a­riuall: for Galaor espoused her af­terward, as you shall reade in the fourth booke of this History. Let it then suffice at this time, that A­madis and Agraies soiourne certain daies in the Castle, while all need­full things were ready for their combat.

CHAP. XLII.

Four daies together, rode Galaor with the Damosell, seeking the Knight that vnhorsed him in the Forrest, for which he was so ouercome with anger, as euery knight hee met withall deerely felt it, because in combat many receiued their death. Then espying a faire Ca­stle on the top of a high moun­taine, the Damosell told him, there was no other place neere where they might lodge that night: wher­fore he being glad to accept there-of, they came to the Castle, fin­ding many Gentlemen and Ladies sporting together, among whom was a Knight aged about three­score yeares, who taking Galaor by the hand, did him all the honour might be deuised. My Lord, quoth, Galaor, your courtesie to vs is so great, that albeit we were determi­ned [Page 236] to passe further on our way, yet for your sake we are content to stay with you this night. Then the knight conducted Galaor, into a faire Chamber, leauing the Damo­sell among the other Ladies; and after the Prince was vnarmed, the knight spake to him in this man­ner. Here Sir may you rest and take your ease, calling for any thing you stand in neede of: for God knows I haue vsed such enter­tainement not onely to you, but to all knights errant that passed this way, because some time I haue beene as now you are. Yet hath nature giuen mee two Sonnes, whose onely delight is in search of aduentures, but now they lie sicke in their beds, beeing cruelly woun­ded by a Knight, who with one Launce cast them both from their Saddles. But they were so asha­med at this foyle, as they mounted againe and pursued the knight, o­uertaking him as hee entred a Barque to passe the water, where my Sonnes said to him, that in re­spect he had iousted so well, they would trie his fortune in combat with the Sword: but the knight made answere he could not now intend it, yet would they needes presse him so farre, as to hinder his entrance into the Barque. Where upon a Lady being in his compa­ny said, they wronged her ouer much to stay her Knight: but they were not to depart, til he had com­bated with them at the Sword. See­ing it will be no otherwise replied the Lady, he shall enter sight with the better of you both, on condi­tion, that if he be conqueror, the other do forbeare the Combat. They answered, if the one were vanquished, the other would re­uenge his foyle, which when the Knight heard, he was so angry, as he bad them both come together, in respect they were importunate and would not rest contented. In the triall, one of my sons sustained the worst, wherefore his brother seeing him in such perill, stroue to reskue him from death: yet all was in vaine, for the knight handled them so roughly, as he left them like dead men in the field, and af­terward passed away in the Barque. No sooner heard I of this mishap, but I sent for my Sonnes, & home were they brought in this daunge­rous plight: but that you may giue credit to my words, behold here their Armour cut and man­gled, as I thinke the like stroakes neuer came from any mans hand. Galaor maruailing at this discourse, demanded what Armes the conquering knight bare: when he was answered, his Shield to be of vermilion colour, with two black Lions figured therein: By these tokens Galaor knew him, that it was the same man he trauailed to finde, which made him demand of his friendly host, if he had no further knowledge of the Knight. No verily Sir, quoth the auncient Gentleman. For this night, an­swered Galaor, let vs take our rest, and to morrow I intend to seeke the man you talke of. For already I haue trauiled foure daies in his search: but if I meete with him, I hope to reuenge the iniuries of your Sonnes, and other likewise whom he hath offended, or else it will cost the price of my life. I could rather wish said the Knight, that leauing this perillous enter­prise, you would take some other course, seeing my two Sonnes haue beene so hardly intreated, their own wilfull folly being cause thereof. So breaking off talke, Ga­laor took his rest till the next mor­ning, [Page 237] when taking leaue of the an­cient knight, he rode away with the Damosell, who brought him to the place of passage in the Barque: where crossing the water to the o­ther side, they came to a very beau­tifull Castle, whither the Damo­sel rode before, aduising the Prince to stay her returne. She taryed not long, but comming back againe, brought another Damosel with her of excellent beauty, and ten men beside all on horse-back: after the faire Gentlewoman had saluted Galaor, she said. Sir, this Damosell that came in your company, telleth me, how you seeke a knight, who beareth two black Lyons in a ver­million shield, and are desirous to know his name: this is very cer­taine, that you nor any other can finde him for three yeeres space, but onely by force of armes, a mat­ter not so easie to be accompli­shed by you, for perswade your selfe, his like is not to be found in all the Isles of great Brittaine. La­dy, quoth Galaor, yet will I not giue ouer his search, although hee con­ceale him selfe in this sort: and if I meete with him, it shall like mee better to combate with him, then to know my demand by any other way. Seeing then, answered the Damosell, your desire is such, I will shew you him within three dayes ensuing, for this Gentlewo­mans sake, being my cosin, who ac­cording to her promise hath ear­nestly entreated me. Galaor requi­ted her with many thankes, and so they trauailed on, arriuing in the euening at an arme of the Sea, where they found a Barque ready for passage to a little Island, and certaine mariners in it, who made them all sweare, if they had any more then one knight in their cō ­pany. No, credit me, replied the Damosell: hereupon they set sayle and away. Then Galaor demanded of the Damosell, the reason why they tooke such an oath. Because, quoth she, the Lady of the Isle whither we goe, hath so ordained it, that they shall let passe but one knight at one time: and no other must they bring till his returne, or credible intelligence of his death. What is hee, saide Galaor, that vanquisheth or killeth them? The selfe same knight you seeke, answe­red the Damosell, whom the La­dy hath kept with her more then halfe a yeere, intirely louing him: and the cause of this affection proceedeth from a Tourney, which not long since hee maintained in this countrey, for the loue of her and another faire Lady, whom the knight (being a stanger here) con­quered, defending her cause with whome he now is, and euer since shee bare him such affection, as without grant of his loue she wold haue dyed. Sometime hee is desi­rous to seeke after strange aduen­tures, but then the Lady to detaine him still in this place, causeth such knights as come hither to passe one after another against whom he combateth, and not one hath yet returned vnuanquished: such as die in fight are there interred, and the foyled sent back againe, des­poyled of their horse and armes, which the knight presenteth to his Lady, shee being one of the fairest creatures in the world, named Co­risanda, and the Isle Brauisande. Know you not the cause, said Gala­or, wherefore the knight went not many dayes since, to a Forrest where I found him, and kept the passage there fifteene dayes toge­ther, against all such as trauailed that way? Yes mary, quoth the Da­mosel, he promised a boone to a [Page 238] Lady before he came hither, wher­fore she intreated him to keep the Forrest for the space of fifteene dayes: yet hardly hee got licence of his faire Mistresse, who allowed him but a moneth to stay and re­turne.

By this time they were landed, and come before a goodly Castle, where stood a pillar or Marble, with a horne hanging on it, which the Damosell bad him winde, and the Knight would come forth at the sound thereof. After he had giuen a good blast, certaine Pa­ges came forth of the Castle, who set vp a Pauilion in the middest of the field, and six Ladies (soone af­ter) came walking forth one of them seeming by her gesture and countenance, to be commander of the rest, taking her place accor­dingly in the Tent. I maruaile, said Galaor, the knight tarryeth so long, I desire one of you to will the Lady send for him, because busines else-where of great importance, forbiddeth me to trifle time here in vaine. One of the Damosells ful­filled his request. What? answe­red Corisanda, maketh he so small account of our Knight? thinketh hee so easily to escape from him? hath he such mind of other affaires before hee see the end of this at­tempt? indeede I thinke he shall returne sooner then he expecteth, but with slender aduantage for him to bragge of: then calling a Page, she said. Goe and bid the strange Knight come forth. The Page quickly did his message, and soone after, the Knight came forth on foote, being all armed except with his Helmet, which was brought af­ter him with his Launce, and ano­ther Page leading his Courser when he came before his Lady, she said. Behold Sir, here is a braue Knight, who thinketh lightly to o­uercome you, & accounteth him-selfe assured of the victory: I pray you let him know the price of his folly. After these wordes she kis­sed and embraced him, but Galaor noting all these misteries, thought he tarried too long from the com­bat: at length the Knight being mounted, they prepared themselus to the cariere, and breaking their Launces in the encounter, were both wounded. Galaor presently drew his Sword, but the knight in­treated him to Ioust once more. With all my heart, replyed Galaor, yet I am sory my horse is not so good as yours, for if it were: I could be content not to giue ouer till one of vs lay along on the ground, or all these Launces bro­ken in peeces. The Knight made him no answere, but commanded a squire to bring them other staues, and meeting together, Galaors horse was almost down: the knight likewise lost his stirrops, be­ing glad to catch holde by the mane of his horse, whereat as one somewhat ashamed, he said to Ga­laor. You are desirous to combat with the Sword, which I haue de­ferred, not for any doubt of my selfe, but onely to spare you, not­withstanding, we must needs now try the issue thereof.

Do what you can answered Ga­laor, I meane to bee reuenged for your kindnesse in the Forrest: these words made the Knight soone to remember him, saying: You must do no more then you can, and hap­pily before you depart hence, you may sustaine a foyle worse then the first. Hereupon they fell to the combat, which began and conti­nued with such fury, as the Ladies, were driuen into wonderfull a­mazement, yea, themselues were a­bashed [Page 239] that they held out so long, hauing their Armour mangled, their Shields defaced, their Bodies sore wounded, and the blood stre­ming downe vpon their horses: Galaor neuer being in such daun­ger of his life, but when hee fought with his brother Amadis, which made him carry better opinion of the Knight, and both of them be­ing glad to breath a while, Galaor entred into these speeches. You see Sir I haue the better of the combat, let me therfore know your name, and why you conceale your selfe so closely: wherein you shall doe me very great pleasure, and wee may continue friends, else worse will ensue then you imagin. Be wel assured answered the knight our strife shall not be ended so ea­sily, nor am I to bee ouercome so lightly as you weene, beside, I was neuer more desirous to prolong a combat, then I am at this instant, because I neuer met with the knight that tryed me so well: but to you nor any other will I bee knowne, except one Knight who hath power to command me. Be not so opinitiue, replyed Galaor, for I sweare to you by the faith I owe to God, neuer to leaue you till I know what you are, and why you conceale your selfe so secret­ly. And I sweare to you, quoth the knight, while breath is in my body you shall not know it by me, and rather would I presently die, then any but two should vnder­stand what I am: yet I know not them, but they may and shall haue knowledge of me. And what are they, said Galaor, you esteeme so much? Neither will I diselose them to you, answered the knight. Both them and my former demaund, quoth Galaor, I will know, else one of vs shall die, or both together. I am well pleased therewith, replyed the Knight.

So began they to charge each other a fresh, as if they had not fought together before at all: but the strange knight receiued many cruell wounds, which made his strength more and more to faile: and the Lady seeing the great dan­ger of his life, would suffer him to endure no longer perill, but com­ming to Galaor, said. Forbeare sir Knight, would God the Barque and Mariners had sunke, before they brought you hither. Lady, quoth Galaor, you ought not to blame me in doing my deuoire a­gainst this knight, who hath outra­ged me, & many beside, for which I meane to bee reuenged this day. Forbeare, said the Lady, to wrong him any more, otherwise you may fall into an extremity without any mercy.

It matters not what may happen answered Galiaor: but nothing shall make me giue ouer, vntill he haue satisfied my demand. And what is that? quoth she. He must tell me his name, replyed Galaor, and why so closely hee concealeth himselfe, likewise what the two Knights are of whom he told mee but euen now. Proceede no fur­ther in combat said the Lady, and I will satisfie your demand. This Gentleman is named Don Florestan, concealing himselfe in this secret manner to finde his two brethren, who are in this country accounted such men at Armes, that albeit hee hath well tried himselfe with you, yet will hee not bee commonly knowne, till he haue accomplished such deedes in chiualrie, as ma de­serue to equall him with them, who are at this time in King Lisuarts Court, one of them being named Amadis, the other Galaor, and all [Page 240] three the Sonnes to King Perion of Gaule. Alas, what haue I done? quoth Galaor, heere brother take my Sword, and therewithall the honor of the fight, for I haue of­fended ouer much. What? said the knight am I then your brother? According to this Ladies spee­ches, answered Galaor, you are, and I am your brother Galaor. Florestan amazed at this accident, fell on his knee, saying. My Lord, I desire you to pardon me, for this offence in combatting vnknown with you, was caused by no other reason: but that I durst not name my selfe your brother, till I had made some im­mitations of your noble vertues, Galaor courteously embraced him in his armes, the teares streaming from his eyes with ioy, and greeu­ing to see him so sore wounded, doubting least his life was in great danger: but when the Lady saw them so good friends, and the en­mity conuerted into such Humili­ty, as one right glad thereof, shee said to Galaor. Worthy Sir, though first you gaue me occasion of great heauinesse, yet now with sufficient ioy you haue recompenced me. So taking each of them by the hand, she walked with them into the Ca­stle, where they being lodged in two sumptuous beds, her selfe (skil­full in Chirurgerie) cured their wounds. Thus remained the two brethren with the rich and beauti­full Lady Corisanda, who desired their health as her owne wel-fare.

CHAP. XLIII.

AT what time King Pe­rion sought after strange Aduentures, he ariued in the coun­trey of Almaigne, where he soiourned the space of two yeares, accomplishing many braue deedes of Armes, the re­nowne whereof continueth to this day. And as he returned toward Gaule hee lodged in the Counties house of Zealand, where he was en­tertained very royally, as well in respect of his owne reputation, as also because the County himselfe had sometime beene a Knight er­rant, which made him loue all such as followed Armes. After supper, the King was conducted to his Chamber, where being in bed, and somewhat wearie with trauaile, he sell a sleepe soundly: but to shake off this heauinesse, he felt himselfe embraced and kissed he knew not by whom, when starting vp to arise, he was so held down that he could not. Why Sir? quoth she that thus mastred him, take you no pleasure in me who am alone with you? the king looking on her, by meanes of the light which still burned in his Chamber, he discerned her to be a most beautifull Lady, wherefore he thus answered. I pray you faire friend, tell me what you are. What soeuer Iam, quoth she, I loue you exceedingly, as one that freely giues her selfe to you. In sooth, replyed the King, I very gladly would know your name. You trou­ble me, said the Lady, with this im­portunity, yet can I vse no other continence thē you see but it were necessary quoth the king, I should [Page 241] know your name, if you meane to be my friend. Seeing you con­straine me thereto, answered the Lady, know that I am the Coun­ties Daughter, who hath so friend­ly entertained you. Now trust me Madam, replyed the King, you must hold me excused, for I had ra­ther die, then abuse the man I am so much beholding to. Will you then refuse me? quoth she, well may you bee tearmed the worst nurtured Prince in the world, in denying the conquest, which all your life time you might haue fay­led of. You may speake your plea­sure, answered the King, but I will do what is conuenient for your honour and mine, and not offend in so foule a manner. I shall, quoth she, cause my Father to thinke himselfe more iniuried by you, then if you grant what I desire. So starting from the bed, she tooke the Kings Sword (euen the same which was afterward found with Amadis, when he was taken vp on the Sea) and drawing it forth, she set the point against her heart, say­ing. Now shall my Fathers life be shortned by my death, whereof you are the onely cause. As she vt­tered these words, she offered to stab her selfe with the Sword: when the king suddenly staying her hand and meruailing at her impatient loue, thus replyed. Hurt not your selfe Madam, for I am content to satisfie your will. Hereupon hee kindely embraced and kissed her, passing the night with her in such sort, as her hot desire was quallifi­ed, and at that instant she concei­ued with childe: the King little thinking thereon, for the next mor­ning he tooke his leaue of her, and the Countie, returning with all speede he could into Gaule. But the time of deliuerance drawing on, and she (desirous to couer her of­fence) determined to goe visit an Aunt of hers, whose dwelling was not past two or three miles off, and many times she resorted thither for her pleasure. So taking no o­ther company with her but a Da­mosell, as shee rode through the Forrest, the payne of trauaile made her alight from her Palfrey, she be­ing soon after deliuered of a good­ly Sonne. The Damosell that was with her, seeing what had happe­ned, bringing the childe to the mo­ther, said. Madam, as your heart serued you to commit the offence, so must it now practise some pre­present remedy, while I returne from your Aunt againe. Then get­ting on horseback, she rode apace to her Ladies Aunt, and acquain­ted her with the whole matter: which caused the old woman to be very sorrowfull, yet she prouided succour for her Niece, sending a Litter with all conuenient speede, wherein the Lady and her childe were brought to her Castle secret­ly, euery thing being so cunningly handled, as the Countie neuer knew his Daughters fault. After such time as these matters require, the Lady returned home to her Fa­ther, leauing her Sonne in her Aunts custody, where he was nou­rished till the age of eighteene yeeres, hauing Squires and Gen­tlemen attending on him, who daily instructed him in managing Armes, and all braue qualities be­seeming a man of value. He being growne of goodly stature, the old Lady brought him one day to the Countie his Grand-father, who gaue him his knight-hood, not knowing what he was: & returning againe with his motherly Nurse, by the way she brake with him in this manner. My Sonne, I am [Page 242] certaine you are ignorant of your parenatge, but credit my words, you are the son to King Perion of Gaule, begotten on his daughtr that gaue you your order of knight-hood: endeuour your selfe therefore to follow your fathers steps, who is one of the most renow­med knights in the world. Madam, quoth Florestan, oftentimes haue I heard great fame of King Perion, but neuer imagined my selfe to be his son: wherefore I vow to you, being my long and carefull nurse, that I will trauaile to fiude my fa­ther, and not make my selfe known to any one, till my deedes declare me worthy to be his son. Not long after, hee departed from the olde Ladie, and accompanied with two squires, iournied to Constantinople, which at that time was greatly vex­ed with warre, where he remained the space of foure yeeres, perfor­ming such haughty deedes of Chi­ualrie, as he was counted the best knight in all those parts. When he perceiued himselfe in some ac­count, he intended to visit Gaule, and make himselfe knowne to the king his father: but comming into great Brittaine, hee heard the fame of Amadis to be maruailous, which was the cause of his stay there, to win some report by armes, as his bretheren had done, whom he lon­ged to acquaint himselfe withall. At length he met with them both in the forrest, as you heard, and af­terward combated with his bro­ther Galaor, which caused their a­boad at the Castle of Corisanda, vntill such time as their wounds were healed.

But now let vs returne to Ama­dis and Agraies, who staied with faire Briolania fiue daies together, preparing their armour and euery thing in order: which being done, they set forward on their way, ac­companied with Briolania, her Aunt, certaine waiting Gentlewo­men, and squires to doe them ser­uice by the way. When they drew neere the Realme of Sobradisa, they came to the Castle of an anci­ent Lady named Galumba, who sometime liued in Briolanias fa­thers Court, and there they were welcomed very honouarbly: yet whether Briolania trauailed thus accompanied, the olde Lady Ga­lumba could not chuse but mar­uaile, which made her request to be satisfied therein. Briolanias Aunt tolde her, how Amadis was one of the best knights in the world, and had promised to reuenge the murthered kings death: likewise how hee discomfited them that guarded the Chariot, and after-ward ouercame the rest in the Ca­stle, at what time the Lions esca­ped, as you haue heard. Galumba wondering at such singuler prow­esse, answered. If he be such a one as you make report, his compani­on must needes be of some estima­tion, and well may they bring your enterprise to end, considering the truth and iustice of the cause: but take heede least the traiterous king worke some treason against them. That is the chcefest pointe of my fear, ianswered Briolania, wherfore wee came to craue your aduise herein. Heereupon shee wrote a letter, and sealed it with the Prin­cesses seale at Armes, then caling a Damosell, after shee had giuen her instructions, she bad her make hast in deliuering the letter. Pre­sently went the Damosell to horse-back, and trauailed so speedily that she arriued at the great Cittie of Sobradisa, which the whole Realme tooke this name by. There was Abiseos and his Sonnes, Darison [Page 243] and Dramis, and these three must the Combat be waged withall: for Abiseos slew the Father of Briola­nia, by couetous desire he had to the Crowne, which he euer since vsurped and held, more by tyran­ny then any consent in the Sub­iects. The Damosell entred the Palace on hors-back, when diuerse knights came to her, requesting her to alight: but she made answere she would not, til she saw the king, and that hee commanded her to leaue her Palfrey. Soone after came the king; accompanied with his two Sonnes and many great Lords, and after shee had saluted him, hee boldly bad her say what she would. My Lord, quoth she, I shall fulfill your command, on condition I may abide in your pro­tection, and receiue no iniurie for any thing I say. By my Crowne, said the king, I warrant your safe­ty: whereupon the Damosell thus began. Sir, my Lady and Mistresse Briolania, disinherited by you, greetes you with this letter, which may openly bee read before this royall company, and I afterward receiue answere for my discharge: whē the king heard openly the nāe of Briolania, remorse of conscience touched him with the wrong hee did her: yet was the letter openly read, which was to giue credit to the Damosells words. The most of the Lords there present, who sometime were subiects to the slaughtered king, seeing the mes­senger of their lawfull Queene in­deede: pittyed she was so vniustly disinherited, and in their hearts de­sired of God, to plague the treason done to her Father: Proceede Da­mosell, quoth the king, and let vs heare your message. My Lord, said she, by treason you murdred my Ladies Father, and vniustly keepe her from her inheritance: where­fore according to your former pro­mise, which you haue not once but often times made, that you with your two Sons would main­taine by Armes, the right you pre­tend to haue in this Realme: shee sends you word by me, if still you stand vpon such triall, shee will bring two knights hither, who shal in combat maintaine her cause, making you know your disloyalty and treason committed. Darison el­dest Sonne to the king, hearing his Father menaced in this sort, grew into great choller, and as one mo­ued with despight, he arose, when (without the kings consent) hee thus spake. Damosell, if your Mi­stresse Briolania haue two knights with her, men resolued to sight on her behalfe: here do I accept the combat for my father and Brother, and if I faile, I promise in the pre­sence of all these Lords, to send her my head in requitall of her fathers, whose death was not accompli­shed without great reason. In sooth Sir Darison, answered the Damosell, you speake as a knight of haughtie mind, yet may I doubt these words to proceed from chol­ler, because I discerne an alteration in your countenance: but if you will request the king to confirme your speeches, I shall thinke your proffer came from a heart of cou­rage.

This answere Damosell, quoth he, may you boldly make her that sent you hither. Cause then his Maiesty, said the Damosell, to giue my Ladies knights assurance, that for any mishap you may re­ceiue in the Combat, they shall sustaine no iniurie, nor be medled withall but by you three: And if you purchase them such a safe con­duct, they shall bee here within [Page 244] three dayes at the vttermost, Da­rison falling on his knee before the King, said. You heare (my Lord) the Damosells demaund, and the promise I haue made before your Maiesty, in the presence of all these great Princes and Lords: humbly therefore I beseech you, seeing my honor is yours, that both you and all the rest will confirme her re­quest, otherwise, to our great dis­aduantage, the presuming knights, who dare aduenture in the cause of foolish Briolania, will imagine themselues conquerors, and vs dis­maide faint-hearted Cowards: ha­uing openly published, that if any one will touch your illustrious re­nowne for matters past, by the combat of vs three you intend to be purged. And albe it you would make them no such promise, yet ought not we to refuse them, for as I vnderstand, they be some foolish knights of King Lisuarts Court, who by their ouer-weening and a­spiring thoughts, make high ac­ompt of their owne deedes in the contempt of others. The King who loued Darison as himselfe, though the death of his brother condem­ned him culpable, and thereby made him feare the combat: gran­ted them safe conduit, according as the Damosell requested for the two knights, and such as came in their company. Here is to be con­sidered, that the period of this trai­tours Fortune was now limited, and the iust auenger of all wrongs, pointed out rewarde for the trea­son of him acd his Sonnes, as in this discourse may bee euidently seene.

The Damosel seeing her mes­sage had taken such effect as shee desired, said vnto them: Make your selues ready, for to morrow with­out fayle shall this difference bee desided. So mounting on her Pal­frey, she returned to the Castle of Galumba, where being arriued, be­fore the knights and Ladies, she reported her answere: but when she told them, that Darison reputed them foolish knights of king Lis­uarts Court, they were so offen­ded, as Amadis entred into these speeches. By God, there are such in company of that good king, as can easily abate the pride of Dari­son, and humble his head so low as they list: but I thinke his choller o­uer-mastred him, when he vttered words of such great indiscrerion. Trust me my Lord, answered Brio­lania, you cannot say or doe so much against these traytours, as they iustly deserue. You know what vilanie they did to the king my Father, and how long time they haue disinherited me · let pitty then preuaile on my behalfe, see­ing in God and you I haue reposed my selfe, with assured hope of sufficient reuenge. Amadis whose heart was submisse to vertue and all gentlenesse, moued with com­passion, said.

Madam, if God be so pleased, ere to morrow at night, your sor­row and sadnesse, shall be conuer­ted into pleasure and content: her­upon they concluded, to set for­ward very early the next morning, which made them depart to their chambers, except Briolania, who sat conferring with Amadis on ma­ny matters, when often times she thought to motion marriage be­tween him and her: but suspecting by his continuall sighs, as also the teares streaming from his eys, that some other Lady was cause of these passions, she kept silence, and taking her leaue bad him good night. On the morrow they go all to horse-back, & comming to the [Page 245] Cittie of Sobradisa, their arriuall was very welcome to many, who seeing the Daughter of their late soueraigne Lord, and knowing the monstrous treacherie of his bro­ther, they instantly desired her prosperous successe, because they bare her singuler affection, Abiseos remembring the wrong hee had done her, and his bloody treason so vnnaturally committed, seemed terrified in countenance, because the worme of conscience reuiued his heinous offence: yet hauing beene so long abstinate and indu­rate in his sinne, thought fortune would now assure his quietnes, and confirme his estate to continue in tranquility. But when he saw how the people flocked about her, not shewing any reuerence to him and his sonnes, albeit they were royal­ly accompained with Lords, hee exclamed on them in this manner. Ah wretched and bad minded peo­ple, I see what comfort you take by the presence of this Girle, and how your sences are caryed away with her: now may I well iudge, you rather could except her as your soueraigne, she beeing a wo­man not capable of such an office, then I that am a hardy knight. Her weaknesse you may note, because shee hath in so long time gotten but two knights, who are come to receiue an ignominious death, which in sooth I cannot chuse but pittie. When Amadis heard these taunting words, he was so enraged, as if the blood would haue gushed from his eyes, and raising himselfe on his stirrops, that euery one might heare him, hee thus answe­red. Abiseos, it may bee easily dis­cerned, that the arriuall of the Princesse is scant pleasing to thee, in respect of thy horrible treason committed, murdering her father thy eldest brother: but if thou haue any feeling of vertue, & art repen­tant for thy foule mis-deed, yeeld to her what thou hast vniustly vsur­ped, so shall I discharge thee of the combate: prouided, thou aske God forgiuensse, and vse such re­pentance as beseemeth a sin so hai­nous, that by losing honour in this world, thou mayst seeke the saluati­on of thy soule hereafter. Darison prouoked to anger by these spee­ches, aduanced himselfe, & before his father had leisure to reply, hee preuented him in this manner. Thou foolish Knight of King Lis­uarts Court, hardly can I endure thy iniurous words to my father in my presence: but I am content to defer them, till we proceede to the effect of thy demand, then shall I take such vengeance for them as I desire, for when thy heart shal faint in time of neede, weening to saue thy life by flight: if thou make not good hast I will so chastife thee, as each one shall pittie thy miserable estate. This is too long a processe, said Agraies, to defend thy fathers treason withall, goe arme thy selfe, and come to the combate as thou didst promise, then shalt thou see if fortune bee so fauoura­ble, to giue thee the victory which thou reckonest assured: if she doe otherwise, perswade thy selfe, both thou and thine shal haue the meed of your wicked derseruing. Say what thou wilt, answered Darison, ere long thy iniurious tongue puld from thy head, shall be sent to the court of thy maister king Lisuart, that such as behold thy worthy pu­nishment, may be afraid to hazard the like by their liberall language. So calling for their armour, the king and his two sons were quickly armed, then mounting on horse-backe, they went to the place [Page 246] appointed for Combats. Where-upon, Amadis and Agraies lacing their Helmets, tooke their Shields and Launces, and afterward en­tred the field. Then Dramis (who was the youngest brother, yet a Knight so valiant, as two of the best in that Countrey durst not deale with him in Combat) said to his Father. My Lord, where your Ma­iesty and my brother are present, wel may I be excused from speech, but now effects must shew it other­wise, by such strength as Heauen hath enabled me withall: therefore I desire to try my Fortune with the Knight who hath so wronged you, and if I kill him not at the first taint of the Launce, neuer shall Armor come on my back againe: but if I meete him not so right as I desire, he shall haue but little respite of life, for at the first stroake of my Sword, I will dispatch him. Many heard the words of young Dramis, and esteemed highly of his enter­prize, nor did they greatly doubt the performance, considering what deedes of Armes they had seene him accomplish. Now place they their Launces in their rests, and Dramis prepared himselfe a­gainst Amadis, who met him so full in the cariere, as his heart brake in his belly, and he fell to the ground so waightily, as if it had beene the fall of an Oxe. Get thee to all the Diuels, said Dardan the Dwarffe, my master is very well rid of thee: but me thinks his threat­ning hath lighted on himselfe, which commonly falls out so with such great crakers. Agraies and Darison brake their Launces in the encounter, but no other harme happened betweene them as yet.

When Abiseos saw his Son Dra­mis was dead, he was meruailous­ly displeased, and intended to re­uenge his death on Amadis, where-upon he gaue forth to meete him, and piercing his Launce thorow the Princes shield, gaue him a sore hurt on the Arme, which made the beholders doubt, that Amadis could hold out no longer. If then the young Princesse Briolania was dismaide, it were in vaine to de­mand the question: for now her heart dreaded further mishap: but he who could not be daunted with common wounds, drew the sword which he recouered from Arcalaus, giuing Abiseos such a sound gree­ting therwith on the head, as made him coutch his neck to his shoul­ders, and the Sword sliding downe vpon his right arme, gaue him a wound to the very bone, by means whereof Abiseos found himselfe so distressed and amazed, that hee fell down from his horse as it were in a Trance. Now did the people meruaile not a little, to see Amadis at two stroakes ouerthrow two such puissant Knights, esteemed amongst them the best in the World: but Amadis beholding no other resistance, returned to Darison who fought with Agraies, they behauing themselues so man­fully against each other, as the peo­ple thought they neuer saw a bra­uer combat.

At length Abiseos recouered a­gaine, and seeing his Sonne Dari­son in danger of his life, came to assist him, giuing Agraies such a wound in the throate, as his Co­zin thought he had beene slayne outright: But soone did hee re­quite Abiseos for it, by seperating his wounded Arme from his body, euen the same Arme wherewith he killed the King his Brother, which made him fall downe dead to the ground, whereupon Amadis called to him, saying. Abiseos, [Page 247] this is punishment in member, whereby thou didst thrust thy selfe into the Crowne, and now hast re­ceiued death according to thy de­sert. Then hee turned about to helpe Agraies, but he met him with the head of Darison in his hand: whereat all the people gaue a great shoute, and humbled themselues to Briolania as their lawfull Queen. This was the end of the wretched Father and his Sonnes, seruing at this day for an example to such as shamefully vsurpe the right of o­thers: which though they enioy for a small season, yet when the God of power letteth loose his ar­rows against them, they fall into o­pen and detested ruine. Let euery man therfore set before his eys that no euill remaineth vnpunished, and the end concludeth these two principles, the eternall beatitude of the celestiall Soules, and the mercilesse excruciaments of mise­rable damned creatures.

Thus see you what lot fell to A­biseos and his children, vsurping the kingdome by homicide and ty­rany, euen by the death of his own naturall brother: therefore heauen repayed him with a miserable end, by the conquering Sword of Ama­dis and Agraies, who dragged them along out of the field, demanding if any other would withstand the right of Briolania. By one of the chiefest Lords in the Country na­med Goman, they were answered, she had no more enimies to gaine-say her, which he testified with an hundred knights of his owne kin­red: All the people being there ready to receiue their Queen Brio­lania, and do her homage as be­seemed faithfull Subiects. Here-upon Amadis and Agraies condu­cted the new Queene to the Palace Royall, where they were presently vnarmed, and Chirurgeons com­manded to attend their wounds: in meane while Briolania was confir­med in the regiment, by a generall oath of the Subiects taken to their Soueraigne, with such ioy, as ne­uer was the like in Sobradisa. But because the two knights were very sore wounded, and their hurts found to be somewhat dangerous, all sports and pastims accustomed at such solemnity, were referred til the time of their recouery: which to compasse the sooner, their lod­gings were appointed in seuerall chambers, that none might trou­ble them with tedious talking, lest a continuall feuer should come v­pon them. Notwithstanding, Brio­lania, as one not ingratefull for the good she receiued by them, would not depart from them eyther day or night, but onely at the time of repast: so that by her kinde and di­ligent attendance, the danger of their sicknesse was expelled the sooner. See here the true and cer­taine history, for what is said more concerning the loue of Amadis & this Princesse, hath been inuented and falsely faigned, according as I haue said before: therefore we will cease, seeing here it goes no fur­ther, vntill the contrary may ap­parantly be knowne, as in the Hi­story following is declared.

CHAP. XLIIII.

GAlaor and Florestan being at the Castle of Corisanda, as you haue heard, they soiourned there til their wounds were healed: afterward they con­cluded on their departure, to seek Amadis in the realme of Sobradisa, desiring they might come thither before the beginning of the cōbat, to haue part of the perill in fight, and glory in conquest. But when Florestan should take leaue of his Lady, her griefe and teares vnspea­kable, able to mooue ruth in a heart of fl [...]t, although Florestan assured her of his speedy returne. Notwithstanding all these mones, forward they set to the Realme of Sobradisa: Florestan crauing a boon of his brother by the way, to wit: that he would not combate on the way for any thing which might happen, vntill he were able to hold out no longer. With much a doe he obtained his request, & so rode they on foure dayes together, not meeting with any aduenture wor­thy the rehearsall: but toward Sun setting they met a knight hard by a Tower, who intreated them ear­nestly to lodge there that night, which gentle offer they accepted, and entring with the knight, they conferred on many matters till supper was ready. The knight was of comely stature, & well spoken, but his countenance was so sad & melancholly, as Galaor began thus to question with him. Me thinkes Sir you are not so merry as you should be, but if wee may any way help your pensiuenesse, tell vs, and you shall finde vs willing to per­forme it. I beleeue assuredly, quoth their host, that like good knights you would doe as you say, but my sadnesse is caused through extream loue, a matter not to be reuealed, and therefore the rather to be par­doned. So sate they downe to sup­per, which beeing ended, Galaor, and his brother were condcted to their chamber, where they reposed themselues till the next morning: when mounting on horse-backe, their host would accompany them a little on the way, and calling for his Iennet, but putting on no Ar­mour, hee rideth with them: this did hee to see what should happen to them, because in the way hee guided them, he hoped to see some proofe of their manhood, when if they were vanquished or slaine, he might the more easily escape from them.

Not farre had they trauelled, but they came to a place called the fountaine of Oliues, because in the midst of the water grew three high Oliue trees. Heereby they espyed three beautifull Damosels, and a Dwarffe sitting aloft in one of the trees: whereupon Florestan salu­ted them very curteously, as one not to learne his behauior toward Ladies, then one of the Damosels requiting his salutation, sayd. Sir knight, if heauen haue endued you with as great bounty as comely perfection, no doubt but you are sufficiently enriched. Faire Damo­sell answered Florestan, if my out­ward appearance doth please you, my inward vertue you may try if you haue any need. You speake so kindely, quoth the, that I will pre­sently make proofe of your valour, to see if you can carry mee hence from this place. In sooth Lady, re­plyed Florestan, if of your selfe you [Page 249] be willing to goe, I know no reason to the contrary why you should not. Herewith he commanded the squire to set her on a palfray, which was tied (ready furnished) at one of the oliue trees: but whē the dwarfe behelde it, hee cryed out aloude. Come forth sir knight, come forth, for here is one will cary away your friend. Presently came out of a val­ley a knight brauely prauncing, & well armed, who said to Florestan. What moues you sir to touch my Lady? I cannot think she is yours, answered Florestan, seeing shee en­treateth mee to cary her hence a­way. Albeit shee would, quoth the knight, yet I thinke it not at this time so conuenient, because I haue defended her from better then you are. I know not how well you haue defended, replied Florestan, but she shall goe with me if I can helpe it. By God sir, answered the other, you must first talk with the knights of this valley, and feele how safely they can keepe such as they loue. So placing their Lances in their rests, they ran couragiously against each other, the knight breaking his staffe: but Florestan smot his shield so strongly against his helmet, as the lace brake, and his head was bare, but worst of all, he fel so hea­uily vpon his sword, that with his weight brake in two pieces. Flore­stan finished his carrire, hauing his Launce whole and sound, when turning againe to the knight, hee saw that he moued neither hand or foote, wherefore punching him with his Lance vpon the stomack, said: Pillard, thou art dead, if thou yeeld not. The knight being reco­uered frō his traunce, & beholding the present danger of his life, desi­red mercy: which Florestan gran­ted, so he would freely resigne the Damosell. She is at your pleasure, replied the knight, but cursed bee the houre when first I saw her. For by her folleys she hath oftentimes endangered my life, Florestan lea­uing him, came to the Damosell, saying: Faire Lady, now you are mine. You haue so nobly won me, quoth she, as I remaine at your dis­position. As they were departing thence, one of the other Damosels thus spake: Alas sir, will you sepe­rate so good company? it is a yeere and more since wee haue liued to­gether, and we would be loth now to depart in this manner. If you please to accompany her, answered Florestan, I can be content to con­duct you together: and more I hope you will not request, because I meane not to leaue my conquest. I thinke not my selfe so foule, repli­the other damosel, but some good knight may enterprise as great an aduenture for me: mary it is to be doubted, whether such hardinesse remaine in you or no. Why Lady? quoth Florestan, thinke you that feare can make me leaue ye? I pro­mise you on my faith, but that I would not forcibly cary you away, you should presently goe with me: but if your will be so good, let my squire helpe you vp on your hack­ney. Which she did, & the dwarfe cryed againe as he did for the first, whereupon another knight came immediatly foorth, and alter him a squire bearing two Launces, the knight vsing these words to Flore­stan. You haue (sir) already won one Lady, and (not c̄ontent with her) you seeke for another: but now in one instant you must loose them both, and your head I doubt to keepe them company, because you beeing of no better race, are vnworthy a Lady of so high cal­ling. Thou vauntest very much, answered Florestan, yet haue I two [Page 250] knights of my linage, whom thou, nor three such as thou art, may bee thought worthy to serue. Thy cō ­mendations extend very far, sayde the knight, yet am I to meddle with none but thee, who hast got a Lady from him that could not defend her: but she must be mine if I con­quer thee, else by vanquishing me, thou shalt be maister of them both together. Now thou speakest rea­son, quoth Florestan: defend thy Lady well, or without doubt shee will fall to my share. So giuing the spurres to their horses, they com­mitted this controuersie to be try­ed by the Lance, when though the Prince failed in the race, and the o­ther brake his staffe very manfully: yet (being angry at his mis-hap) at the second course he sēt the knight so violently to the ground, as hee thought euery bone of him was broken in pieces. Thus was he safe­ly possessed of the second Damo­sell, and very loth hee was to leaue the third there alone, but shee be­holding their host that conducted them thither, spake to him in this manner. My friend, I would aduise ye to bee gone, because you know these two knights cannot resist him will presently come: then if you be taken, you are sure to dy the death. Beleeue mee Lady, quoth hee, I meane now to see the end of all, for my horse is quick of pace, and my tower strong enough to defend me from him. Well, looke to your selues, said the Damosell, you bee but three, and one of you vnar­med, but if he were, it might not a­uaile him. When Florestan heard how shee praised him that was to come, he was more desirous to ca­ry her away then before, onely be­cause hee would haue a fight of him, and therefore bad his Squire to set her on horse-backe as he did the other, when the Dwarffe in the oliue tree deliuered these wordes. Beleeue me Sir knight, in an euill houre came this boldnesse on you, for presently commeth one who will reuenge his companions. Foorth of the valley came a knight in gilt armour, mounted on a lusty bay courser, the man resembling a Giant in proportion, and reputed to be of incredible strength. After him followed two Squires armed, each of them carying a hatchet in his hand, and so soone as he came neere Florestan, he thus spake. Stay knight & fly not, for by flight thou art not able to saue thy life, bet­ter is it for thee to dye like a good knight then a coward, especially when by cowardise thou ca [...]st not escape. Florestan hearing such me­naces of death, contemning like­wise a man of no value, incenced with anger, hee returned this an­swere. Monster, Beast, Diuell, or whatsoeuer thou art, reason I see thou wantest: so little do I esteeme thy prodigall words, that I thinke thou hast no better weapons to fight withall. I greeue, saide the Knight, that I cannot haue my fill in reuenge on thee, but I would foure of the best of thy linage were here with thee, for mee to slice off their heads as I wil do thine. Look to thine owne thou wert best, an­swered Florestan, for I hope I am sufficient to excuse them, and bee their Lieutenant in this matter on thee. Thus sundring themselues, in rage and fury they met toge­ther, that the beating of their hor­ses hoous made the earth to groan and the breach of their Launces made a terrible noise: but the great knight lost his stirrops, and had fallen to the ground, if by catching hold about his horse necke hee had not escaped. As Florestan helde on [Page 251] his course, hee caught a hatchet from one of the squires, wherewith he smote him quite beside his horse: and by time he returned; the Knight had recouered his seate againe, and the hatchet which the other Squire held. Now begins a dreadfull combat betweene them, such cruell strokes being giuen at each other with their hatchets, as though their helmets were of right trusty steele, yet they cut and man­gled them very pittifully. Many times was Florestan enforced to staggering, by the mighty blowes of his monstrous enemy, yet at length the Prince smote at him so furiously as he was faine to lie a­long vpon his horse neck, when re­doubling his stroake betweene the helmet and the brigandine he par­ted his head from his shoulders. Being thus cōqueror of all the Da­mosells, and they not a little mer­uailing at this strange victory, the Knight who had beene their host the night before, spake to Florestan. My Lord, this Damosell haue I long time loued, and she me with like affection, but for the space of this yeare & more, the great knight (whom last you slue) hath forcibly detained her yet beeing now reco­uered by your worthy prowesse, I beseech ye Sir, I may enioy her a­gaine. If it be so as you say, answe­red Florestan, my pains haue stood you in some steede at this time, but against her will, neither you or any other can get her from me. Alas my Lord, quoth the Damosell, no one but he hath right to my loue, then sunder not them that should liue together. Nor will I said Flore­stan, you are, Lady at your owne li­berty, and may depart with your friend when you please. They both requited him with manifold thanks then taking leaue of Galaor & Flo­restan, the knight rides home ioy­fully with his new conquered La­dy. The other two Damosells desi­red the Princes to accompany thē to their Ants house which was not far off, Galaor questioning with thē by the way, why they were kept in such sort at the Fountaine, where-to one of the Damosells thus repli­ed. Vnderstand my Lord, that the great Knight who was slaine in the combat, loued the Lady which your host carried away with him, but she despised him aboue all o­ther, fancying no other then him who now enioys her. But in respect this knight was so puissant, as none in this country durst contend with him, he kept her violently whether she would or no, yet offering her no iniury, because he loued her deerely, and one day among other he thus spake to her: faire Mistresse, to the end I may compasse your gentle affection, and be esteemed of you the only knight in the world listen what I will do for your sake. There is a Knight named Amadis of Gaule, accounted the onely man for valour this day liuing, who slew a Cozin of mine in the Court of king Lisuart, a knight of great fame called Dardan the proud: him (for your sake) will I seeke, and by cut­ting off his head, conuert all his glory to mine owne commendati­on. But till I compasse what I haue said, these two Ladies (meaning vs) and these two knights of my linage shall attend on you, and each day conduct you to the fountaine of O­liues, which is the only passage for knights errant through this Coun­trey: if any dare be so bold to cary you thence, there shall you see ma­ny braue combats, & what the ho­nor of your loue can make me do, to cause the like opinion in you to­wards me, as your diuine prfecti­ons, [Page 252] haue wrought in me to you. Thus were wee taken and giuen to the two Knights who were first dis­mounted, and with them we haue abode the space of one whole yere, in which time many combats they fought for vs, yet neuer conquered till this present. In sooth Lady, an­swered Galaor, the knights intent was too high for him to accom­plish, because he could not deale with Amadis, and escape the For­tune now fallen vpon him: but how was he named? He called himselfe Alimias, quoth she, and had not o­uer-weening pride too much ruled him, he was a most gentle & cour­teous Knight. By this time were they come to their Aunts Castle, where Galaor and Florestan found gracious entertainement, the old Lady being very glad to see her Neeces, as also to vnderstand the death of Alimias. After they had ta­ken leaue of the friendly Ladies, they iourney toward the Realme of Sobradisa, where they heard before they entred the Citty, how Amadis and Agraies had slaine Abiseos and his Sonnes, by meanes whereof, Briolania ruled as a peaceable Queene, which news highly con­tented them, & made them reioyce for their happy fortune. To the palace they come vnknown of any, till they were brought to Amadis & Agraies, whose wounds were alrea­dy indifferently recured, and they deuising with the Queene at her ar­riuall. Here you must note, how the Damosell that conducted Galaor to finde Florestan, left them after the combat, and comming before to her Mistresse, told her and Amadis, how Galaor and Florestan knew each other, and what issue their combat had: which made Amadis very kindely to embrace them both, and Florestan offered on his knee to kisse his hand, which Amadis would not permit, but causing him to arise, sate downe & communed of their aduentures past. But one day a­mong other, the new enstalled Queen Briolania, after many hono­rable feastings she had made thē, seeing these foure knights deter­mined to depart, considering the good she had receiued by Amadis and Agraies, & that she (being be­fore a disinherited Princesse) was by their meanes restored to her Kingdome: beholding likewise the wheele of fortune turned, and how such personages were not alone to aide and defend her Countrey, but puissant enough of themselues to be Kings and mighty Lords: falling on her knees before them, first ren­dring thankes to God, who had done her such grace as to regard her in pitty, continuing her dis­course, she said. Thinke my Lords, these mutations are the meruailes of the Almighty, which are admi­rable to vs & held of great accoūt, but to him they are (in manner) no­thing. Let vs see if it be good then to shun Signories & riches, which to obtaine we take such paine and trauaile, and to keepe, endure innu­merable anguishes and distresse: as superfluous therefore vtterly to de­iect them, because they are tor­ments of body & soule, vncertaine and haue no permanence. As for my selfe, I say no, but affirme, that they being lawfully begotten, mo­destly vsed, & according to Gods appointment: they are in this world, rest, pleasure and ioy, and the way to bring vs to eternall glory.

CHAP. I.

THere was a King in Greece, who was married vnto the Emperours daugh­ter of Cōstantinople, by whom hee had two sonnes, excelling in all perfe­ction, both of body and minde. Especially the eldest (named Apo­lidon) who was so well brought vp and conditioned, that hee found not his equall in any vertuous qua­lity wherein he exercised himselfe. This Apolidon studied all sciences, wherein he profited so much, that hee was not onely counted one of the best knights in the world, but also surpassed all men of his time for wisedome: excelling them in learning, as farre as the moone ex­ceedeth the starres in light, and chiefly in the art of Nigromancy, by the which he brought to passe many great matters, which seemed beyond the capacity of men. Now was the King (father of these two young Princes) most mighty in lands, and wealthy in treasure: but very weake in body by reason of his age. Wherefore knowing the end of his daies to approach, he would before his death, make partition of all his goods vnto his children, because no contention or debate should happen betweene them af­ter his decease. And for that end he appointed the kingdome to A­polidon, being his eldest sonne and heire, the other he inuested with all his riches, and moueable goods, among which there was many ex­cellent bookes, of inestimable va­lue. Yet the youngest nothing li­king this partition, bewayled his estate vnto the King, beseeching him most humbly to consider, that his patrimony being so small, hee was not onely left poore, but in a manner disinherited. Then the a­ged father perceiuing the discon­tentment of his sonne (being the thing hee most feared) was excee­ding sorrowfull, but yet would he not alter that which hee had done, without the consent of Apolidon: who beeing aduertised thereof, [Page 2] came vnto him, and in the presence of his brother saide thus. It may please your Maiestie, I heard with­in these few dayes that my brother is not content with that portion, which it hath pleased you to ap­point vnto him: and therefore be­cause I knowe how grieuous the same is vnto you, seeing the bro­therly loue betwixt him and mee likely to be broken: I most humbly beseech your highnesse, to take all that againe which it hath pleased you to giue vnto mee, and dispose therof as it shal seeme best to your owne minde, for I shall thinke my selfe thrise fortunate, to doe any thing that may breede your soules felicity, and very well apaid, with that which to him was appointed.

When the King behelde the bounty of his sonne Apolidon, and the obedience hee shewed vnto him, hee was therewithall so plea­sed and exceeding ioyfull, that his soule (knowing it, could not leaue his body in greater contentment) fled vp into heauen: leauing his two sonnes in such friendship as he desired. Notwithstanding, after the body was buried, and all ac­customed funerall rights ended, Apolidon caused certaine shippes to he rigged and furnished for the sea, wherein being embarked, with diuerse Gentlemen of his friends, seeing the winde and weather fa­uour them, he commanded the an­kers to bee waied, and the sailes to be let fall: the which were incon­tinently filled with so stiffe a gale, as in lesse then one houre they were past the countrey of Greece. And yet Apolidon had not derter­mined to bend his course vnto a­ny certaine coast: but following his fortune, driuen by the winde, he discouered the Countrey of Ita­lie, whereunto approching, he lan­ded in a certaine port thereof. The Emperour Sindan beeing aduerti­sed of his landing, sent many great Lords vnto him, to request him to come to Rome: where hee should be as royally entertained as might be deuised. To which request Apo­lidon willingly condiscended, and beeing there already arriued, the Emperour receiued him with ho­nor, yet although at his comming hee determined to soiourne no more then eight daies with him, hee changed his purpose, and re­mained there a longer season: in which time he accomplished such haughty deedes of armes, and be­haued himselfe so worthily, that a­mongst the Romans he gained the reputation of the best knight in the world: and obtained the loue of a young Princesse, the onelie sister to the Emperour, named Grimane­sa, the fairest Lady then liuing. And although that their loue was alike, yet was this faire Lady so streightly looked vnto, that neither could her affection bee satisfied, nor the common desire of them both bee performed. Wherefore one day consulting more priuat­ly, then they euer yet before had done, loue wrought such a consent in them, as they agreede to depart vnto such a place, where they might without controle, enioy the fulnesse of their content: so as what they secretly intended, they as suddenly executed. For euen as they had appointed it, so the faire Grimanesa came forth one night to meete her loue Apolidon, who stay­ed for her at the water-side, hauing prepared shippes ready for their flight, and wherein they presently embarqued themselues. Then by force of the winde, they were in few dayes driuen to arriue at the foote of the Firme-Island, which [Page 3] was then inhabited by a mighty Giant, whereof Apolidon and those in the ship were ignorant. Where-upon thinking they were in a place of safety, came on shoare, and tents and Pauilions were set vp, where­in they might refresh them: for Grimanesa (who was not vsed to trauaile by sea) was as wearie as might be. But at that instant when they thought themselues most se­cure, the Giant which had disco­uered them, took them so suddain­ly, that Apolidon had scant so much leisure, as to arme himselfe: where-with Grimanesa was so amazed, that she was ready to die for feare: for the Giant taking her by the hand, said vnto Apolidō. Base slaue, although I am not accustomed to be kind vnto any, yet am I content for this once, to suffer thee to fight against me alone, on this conditi­on, that if thou be ouercome, this faire Lady shall be mine, and then afterwards I shall cause thee to bee hanged vpon the pole of this tent. When Apolidon heard that by figh­ting with such a monster, he might both saue himselfe & his mistresse: his hart was so great, as he thought it a very easie matter to ouercome him: and esteemed himselfe happy, that fortune had offered him so fit an occasion, as to make known vn­to Grimanesa how much was his courage, and how great was his Knight-hood. Wherefore with­out longer delay the combate be­gan betweene them, the which la­sted but a while, for the Giant was pursued so valiantly, as hee fell downe back-ward. Then Apolidon streight stepped ouer him and cut off his head. Which the inhabi­tants of the Isle vnderstanding, they all came and offered them-selues vnto him; becheeching him to remaine with them, and to bee their Lord and protector. Vnto this their request he condiscended: wherefore they conducted him with great triumph to the cheefe Fortresses of the Countrey, all which he found so well fortified, and furnished, as from that time forward hee nothing feared the power of the Emperor, if he shold attempt war against him for the ta­king away of his sister. Afterwards by the perswasion of Grimanesa he caused to be builded in that place, one of the fairest places that was to be found in all the Isles of the Oci­an: the which he beautified so gor­geously, and furnished so righly, that the greatest monarch of the earth would haue found it a very difficult matter to haue builded the like. But it chaunced that fifteene daies after his there arriuall, the Emperour of Constantinople (his vnckle) died without heirs of his body; by meanes whereof, they of the Countrey dispatched Embassadors vnto Apolidon, to beseech him to take vpon him the Empire, the which hee wil­lingly accepted, being (as most men are) neuer contented with their estate, but still de­sirous of change, especially of a pettie Island, for an Empire. Yet Grimanesa sorrie to leaue so pleasant an Island, did most instantly entreat her Lord, that before their departure, (in re­membrance of the pleasure which they had enioyed in this Palace, the first witnesse of the full fruition of their loues) hee would worke such a meanes by his Art and great knowledge, that from thence forth, none might bee Lord thereof, except hee were as good a Knight as he, and as true in loue as hee was. True­ly, Madame, answered Apolidon, [Page 4] I will doe more for your loue then so: for not onely no man shall en­ter into this Pallace except he be such a one as you haue sayde, but further, no Lady, nor Gētlewoman shall set her foote therein, vnlesse she be as faire, and excellent in all perfections as your selfe. Then at the entrie of an Orchard (planted with diuerse sorts of trees) he cau­sed a vault to bee made: ouer the which hee placed the image of a man made of copper, holding a horne, as though hee would winde it: and vpon the gate of this Pal­lace he set vp his owne and Grima­nesa her picture, so artificially wrought that they seemed verie liuely: right ouer against which, he planted an high stone of Iasper, and about half a bow shoot off, to­wards the garden hee set a piller of iron fiue cubits high.

These things beeing in this sort framed, hee asked Grimanesa if she knew what hee had done. No sure­ly, answered shee. I will tell you then presently sayde Apolidon: as­sure your selfe Madame, that no man nor woman which hath falsi­fied their first loue, shall passe vn­der this vault: for if they aduen­ture to enter the same, the image which you see, shall blowe such a terrible blast, & shall cast through this horne, such a flame, & stench, that it shall be impossible for them to passe on further: moreouer, they shall bee cast forth with such force, that they shall bee throwne downe and remayne in a swound before the vault. But if it chance that any loyall louer, man, or wo­man, doe assay this aduenture, the image shall sound a tune so melo­dious, as it shall greatly delight the hearers: & there may such faith­full louers passe, without any im­pechment. Furthermore, they may beholde our portraytures, & their own names writtē in this Iasper, yet shall they not know by whom they were ingrauen. For tryall whereof if it please you, wee will proue the same forthwith. Then hee tooke Grimanesa by the hand, and passing vnder the arch, the Image of cop­per beganne to sound marueilous sweetly, but when they came to the Iasper stone, they beheld their names newly ingrauen therein, which greatly pleased Grimanesa. And to beholde what would be the successe of such as followed them, they called certaine Gentlemen, and Gentlewomen to make tryall of the aduenture: but as they thought to haue passed thorough the vault, the Image blew such a hideous blast, and cast forth fire, smoake and flame so horrible, that they all fell downe in a swound, & were throwne foorth most rudely. Wherewith Grimanesa began to laugh, knowing that they were in more dread then danger, than­king Apolidon most heartily for that which hee had done for her sake. But yet my Lord, sayde she, what shall become of this rich chamber, in which you and I haue enioyed such great cōtentment? You shall knowe by and by, said hee. Then caused hee two other pillers to bee brought: one was of Marble, which hee had placed within fiue paces of the chamber: and the o­ther of Brasse, was set fiue paces before that. Afterwards he said to Grimanesa: Madame, henceforth there shall neither man nor wo­man enter into this chamber, vn­till that hee who shall surpasse mee in prowesse, and knight-hood, or she which shall excell you in beau­ty bee first entered into the same: but when fortune shall bring hither those which shall be worthy of a [Page 5] place so excellent, all men after-wards, without any let may therein enter. Then he wrote vpon the pil­ler of Brasse, these words: Euery knight which shall make proofe of this aduenture, shall passe some further then other, according as they excell each other in chiualrie & courage. Vpon the Marble piller thus: Let no man aduenture to passe this piller to enter the cham­ber, except hee passe Apolidon in knighthood. And ouer the entry of the chamber: Hee which shall enter herein, shall exceed Apolidon in armes, and shall succeed him as Lord of this countrey.

Before any man could come neere the chamber, hee must of force touch the two pillers, & there trie his manhood. He likewise or­dayned that they should bee disar­med which hereafter should ad­uenture to passe vnder the arch of faithfull louers, if they receiued the repulse: and that all such should bee driuen forth of the Island, as false and disloyall men: but such as were faithfull, should bee enter­tertayned with all honour and ser­uice that might be deuised. Such as aduentured to passe the pillers to enter the forbidden chamber, if they did not passe the Brasen pil­ler, they should bee vsed neither better nor worse then those which were false in loue. If by chance they went beyond it, because there should bee a difference betweene them and the others, their swordes onely should bee taken from them. And if there came any better knight which attayned not vnto the Marble piller, hee should lose but his shield: yet if hee passed on further, and entered not the cham­ber, his spurres onely should be ta­ken from his heeles.

And touching the Ladies and Gentlewomen, married or vnma­ried, which should proue the ad­uenture of constant louers, if they were repulsed, hee willed that they should be constrayned to tell their names, that they might be written vp at the entry of the vault, with the iust number of paces that each of them had entred forward in the same.

When the time is come (said A­polidon) that this Isle shall recouer such a Lord as is promised vnto it, these enchantments shall no more be hurtfull vnto any, and the place shall be free for all men: but yet it shall not bee so for women, vntill the fairest Lady shall first be entred into it, who shall free the passage for all others. Then did hee esta­blish a Gouernour to receiue the reuenue of the countrey, vntill he should come that deserued it. And shortly after, hauing taken order for all his affaires, his ships being ready, they imbarqued, and had so faire a winde, that within fewe dayes they arriued in Constantino­ple, where they were most royally receiued.

But because my meaning at this present is onely to continue the deeds of Amadis, I will leaue Apolidon to gouerne his Empire, to declare vnto you what happened vnto the same Amadis, and vnto them which followed him at his departure from the Citiy of Sobra­disa.

CHAP. II.

IN the end of the first Book you haue heard how Amadis and A­graies remained a while in the great Ci­tie of Sobradisa, vntill their wounds were healed that they receiued in the battell against Abiseos and his two sonnes: moreouer how Gala­or & Don Florestan came thither af­terward, & with what entertainmēt they were receiued. Now to con­tinue our History you must know, That not all the hurts which Ama­dis had, nor any dangers which hee doubted, no nor all the kinde en­tertainements of Briolania, were once able to expell the continuall remembrance of the beautifull Princesse Oriana forth of his mind: but as her rare perfections seemed continually to shine before his eyes, so did his desire to beholde her againe, dayly increase. Thus hee endured an exceeding tor­ment which the more he thought to hide, the more it appeared: yet was the cause thereof vnknow­en, for euery one iudged diuers­ly thereof, as a passion finely dis­sembled, proceeding from some excellent thing, the which hee could well sustaine but better con­ceale. In the end not being able to supporte this long absence, which depriued him from the sight of her, that wrought this his hap­pie torment, hee with his friends tooke leaue of the Queene of So­bradisa, with an intent to returne to the Court of King Lisuart. Notwithstanding they had not rode farre on their way, but for­tune offered them an occasion of longer stay, as you shall heare. It happened that by chaunce com­ming neere vnto an Hermitage, they perceiued a Gentlewoman (accompanied with other women, & foure Esquires) comming forth of a Church. Wherefore Amadis and his fellowes being desirous to knowe what shee was, rode before and saluted her most curteously: and shee which was the chiefest re­soluted them, and demanded whi­ther they were going, Gentlewo­man sayd Amadis, wee are going to the Court of King Lisuart, whi­ther (if it please you, so that it be not out of your way) wee will beare you company. I thanke you heartily sayde the Gentlewoman, my iourney is another way. But because I thinke you be wandring knight, who commoly search for great aduentures, I desire to know if any of you will go to the Firme-Island, to behold such strange and maruailous things as there are to be seene. For I am the daughter of him that is Gouernour there-of, vnto whom I am presently go­ing. Faire Lady, answered Ama­dis, I haue oftentimes heard of the wonders of this Island, and I should account my selfe happy if I might prooue them as I de­sire, but I repent that I aduen­tured them no sooner. By my faith sayd shee, you neede not bee so sory for your slacknesse: for there [Page 7] hath beene a number such as you, who haue had the like desire to aduenture themselues, yet did they not thinke their comming thither so sweete, as they found their de­parture thence sowre. I make no doubt thereof replyed Amadis, because I haue heard so much: but tell mee, shall wee goe out of our way any thing farre, if we fol­lowe you? Two dayes iourney at the most, answered the Gentlewo­man. I beleeuee sayd Amadis, that hee which will see the arch of loy­all louers, must turne vpon the left hand and keep along the Sea side: vnder which arch no man that hath falsified his first loue, may passe. You say true sayd she, and you may also there behold many other sights more strange.

Then Agraies enflamed with de­sire to see such rare things, sayd vnto his fellowes: My maisters I know not what you meane to doe, but sure I intend to accompany this Gentlewoman, if it please her, and I will prooue the won­ders which shee hath tolde vs of. If you bee so loyall sayde shee, that you may passe vnder the en­chanted arch, you shall finde be­yond the same, both many nouel­ties which will greatly please you, and also you shall beholde the I­mages of Apolidon and Grimanesa, who built that wonderfull place: and that (which more is) you shall see your owne name written vpon a Iasper stone, without perceiuing by whom it is done. All the bet­ter sayde Agraies, I will if I can make the third that there hath en­tered.

When Amadis vnderstood the determination of his Cosen, hee was desirous to follow him, for he knew his loyalty to bee firme both in deed and thought, which by all likelihood did promise him the maistry of the adueneure, before all others. But yet hee dissembled his intention, and sayde vnto his brethren, My friends although we are not amourous, as is my Lord Agraies, yet me thinkes we should for this once doe as hee doth, and keepe him companie. Let vs goe sayd Galaor, and I hope that all will fall out as wee desire, to our glory and our honour: heereupon they followed the Gentlewoman. Then Florestan, who had neuer be­fore heard what the Firme-Island was, beeing alone with Amadis, sayde vnto him. My Lord, I per­ceiue you know all the wonders of this place, whereunto wee are go­ing, whereof I neuer heard any speech, although I haue trauailed many farre countries. Truely an­swered Amadis, that which I know, I learned of a young Prince, my very good friend, named Arban of Norwales, who hath prooued ma­ny strange aduentures, and chiefly these of the Firme-Island, which he could not atchieue, but was cō ­strained to returne with some dis­grace. This Gentlewoman dwel­leth in the place, of whom you may vnderstand as much as you desire to knowe. Wherefore Don Flore­stan came vnto her, and intreated her very earnestly, that seeing the length of their way ministered thē occasion of conference together, shee would bee pleased to recite vnto him, all that which she knew of the Island. I will very willing­ly declare vnto you (sayde shee) that which I haue learned of such, as by their owne reports were well acquainted with the place, and the wonders thereof. Then shee rehearsed the particularities of all that which hath beene before declared: whereat the [Page 8] more they admired, the more were they encouraged to aduen­ture the enterprise of those strange things, wherein so many valiant men had receiued the foyle. Thus together they rode so long, that night comming, they were in doubt to go astray, vntill the moon began to shine: and then they knew that they were in a great meddow, in which they beheld ma­ny Pauillions set vp, and people sporting all about them. Then said the Gentlewoman vnto Amadis, Sir, because I see my father, you may if it please you, come faire and softly, and I will goe before to aduertise him of your cōming, that he may do you that honour as you deserue. So saying, shee gal­lopped her horse, vntill shee came vnto the tents, where she alighted. Then shee tolde her father, how these foure knights had followed her, hauing a desire to trie the ad­uentures of the Firme Island, which he vnderstanding, came to meete them, and receiued them very courteously: afterwards hee led them vnto one of the Pauillions, where they rested vntill their sup­per was ready. When they were set downe, the gouerner of the Isle discoursed vnto them the aduen­tures of such Knights and Ladyes, which had proued the arch of loy­all louers, and the other nouelties thereof, vntill it was time to goe to rest. Whereupon they all with-drew themselues, and when day appeared, they mounting all on horse-back, rode so long, that they came to a place which was in breadth no more then a bow shoot of firme ground, and all the rest was water. And they went on in this straight, vntill they came into the entrie of the Island, the which was onely fiue leagues in breadth, and seuen in length. There might they see the sumptuous Pallace of Apolidon, whose gates were open: and as they drew neerer, they per­ceiued more then an hundred tar­gets or shields, placed in three rankes, the most parte leaning a­gainst two postes, and tenne other nailed a little ouer them. But there were three which were very high a­boue the rest, fastned vpon another post which stood forwarder then the first, yet did they likewise dif­fer in height, for the highest was a faddom aboue the middle-most, and the middlemost was a cubit ouer the lowest. Then Amadis demanded, why they were thus ranked. Truely, answered the gouernour, according to the val­lour and knight-hood of those which would haue entred the for­bidden chamber, their shields are honoured: and these which you see neerest the ground, belonged to such Knights which could not come neere the brasen piller; but these tenne that are higher came vnto it, & they which ought these two other shields, which you see seperated and placed aboue the rest, haue done more: for they haue passed the piller, yet could they not come neere the other of marble, as the other hath done, whose shield is therfore placed aboue these two, which are so much esteemed. Then Amadis approched more neere to see if he might know any of them, for there was none of them, but had written vpon them the names of such as heretofore did owe thē: and he cast his eye vpon the low­ermost of the three, which hung by themselues ouer the other tenne: which had in a field Sa­bles a Lyon Or, fanged and ar­med Argent, with a Cheife Gules: this hee knewe to boe the [Page 9] shield of Arcalaus. Then hee be­held the two vppermost, the lower bearing in a field Azure, a knight Argent, cutting off the head of a Gyant, the which hee remembred to bee the shield of king Abies of Ireland, who prooued this aduen­ture, two yeares before that Ama­dis did kill him in Gaule. The third which was aboue all the rest, had a fielde Azure, three Flowers, or which he could not know without reading the superscription, which sayd, This is the shield of Don Que­dragant brother to king Abies of Ireland, the which was set ouer all the others within these twelue dayes. For Quedragant behaued himselfe so valiantly, that he came vnto the Marble piller, whereunto none other had before approa­ched. He by chance passed by the Firme-Island, in seeking for Ama­dis, with an intent to fight with him, and to reuenge the death of King Abies his brother.

Much amazed was Amadis see­ing the shields of so many good Knights, which had all fayled in their purposed enterprise, and hee greatly feared least hee might per­forme as little as they. For this cause, hee and his company with-drew themselues, to goe towarde the arch of loyall louers, the which was shewed vnto them. Agraies suddenly alighted, and approach­ing neere the forbidden place, hee with an indifferent high voice thus spake, Loue if e [...]er I haue beene constant, let mee now be remem­bred. This sayde, hee passed on, and entred vnder the arch. Then the copper Image began to sound so sweetely, as it greatly reioyced the hearers: and Agraies stayed not, but went on vntill hee came vnto the Pallace where the pictures of Apolidon and Grimanesa were, which seemed vnto him, as if they had been aliue. And he came neer vnto the Iasper piller, wherein he beheld two lines written. The first contayned Madanil sonne to the Duke of Burgoine, hath passed vn­der the arch of loyall louers, and ended that aduenture. The other was the name of Don Bruneo de bon­ne mer, or of the lucky Sea, sonne to Vaillades, Marques of Troques. Scant had he read the last line, but he beheld a third, which cōtained: This is the name of Agraies son to Languines King of Scotland. This Madanil loued Aquinda Countesse of Flanders: & Don Bruneo, Melicia daughter to King Perion of Gaule. When Amadis did see that his Co­sen was entred without any let at all, hee sayde vnto his brethren. Will not you proue the aduenture as hee hath done? No, answered they, for we are not so much sub­iect vnto this passion, that wee de­serue to make tryall of our loyalty. Seeing then that you bee twaine, keepe you one another company, and I will accompany Lord A­graies if I can. Then he boldly en­tered vnder the arch, and as hee passed, the copper Image sounded vpon his horne another sound, far more melodious then hee yet be­fore had done. Moreouer, in stead of fire and s [...]inking flame, that it cast forth against the disloyall lo­uers, flowers and sweete leaues came forth of his horne, in such a­bundance, that the place were all couered therewith. But for all this Amadis, stayed not, but passed on euen hard vnto the Images of A­polidon and Grimanesa, the which seemed vnto him so well formed, as they wanted nothing but speech. When Agraies which was entered before, perceiued him, he came to him and sayde, My Lord [Page 10] and Cosen, me thinkes we should not hence-forth hide our loues from one another. But Amadis without any answere, tooke him by the hand, and walking toge­ther, they beganne to discourse of the excellency of the place. In the meane season Galaor and Florestan displeased with staying so long for them, did intreate Isania (the Go­uernour of the Isle) to shew them vnto the forbidden chamber▪ the which he did.

Whereupon Florestan sayde vn­to Galaor, my Lord, are you de­termined to try yourselfe? No, an­swered hee, for I neuer desired to prooue such enchantments. I pray you then sayde Florestan, to sport you whilest I haue tryed this ad­uenture. Then commending him-selfe to God, with his shield vpon his arme, & his sword in his hand, hee marched right towardes the forbidden place. But he went not farre forward, when hee felt him-selfe layd at so sore, and so often ouercharged with the stroakes of Launces and swords, as hee verily beleeued that no man was able long to suffer them: notwithstan­ding bearing his head lowe (mau­ger all the resistance) he marched forward, laying about him heere and there, but knewe not vpon whom. Yet he thought that which hee did hit, were so well armed, as his sworde could in no sort hurt them, and hee passed the piller of Brasse, euen hard vnto the other of Marble, against the which hee fell downe, not being any longer able to stand vp: for hee felt him­selfe so wearie, and bruised with the forcible blowes which hee had suffered, that he thought he should die. And in the same instant he was so rudely lifted forth of the place, that hee lost all his vnderstanding▪ wherewith Galaor was so displea­sed, that he thought himselfe wor­thie of blame if he did not reuenge his wrong. And therefore hee be­tooke him to his armes, and ranne right vnto the forbidden chamber: yet his haste was not so great, but that hee was as suddenly resisted & smitten,, and so violently layde at, as very hardly hee came vnto the Marble piller, against the which hee leaned, thinking to take breath. Notwithstanding the stroakes which on all partes lighted vpon him, were so many and so waighty, that hee was inflamed with rage in such sort as hee went on somewhat further, hoping yet to withstand them. Then did he imagine his e­nemies to bee so many, that for e­uery one blowe hee had before, he now thought that hee receiued twaine, so as his strength quite fai­led him, and hee fell downe on the ground a great deale more weake then Florestan was.

All this while Amadis and A­graies beholding the pleasantnesse of the place wherein they were en­tered, perceiued a new writing in the Iasper piller, which contained: This is Amadis of Gaule, the con­stant louer, sonne to King Perion. At the same instant was Galaor throwne foorth from the pillars, wherewith the Dwarffe began to cry: Out alas, my Lord Galaor is dead. This voyce was heard of A­madis and Agraies, who presently came forth to see what the matter was, and they asked the Dwarffe what moued him to cry so loud. My Lord answered hee, I beleeue your two brethren are dead, in prouing the aduenture of the for­bidden chamber: for they haue beene so rudely repulsed, as see where they lie without moouing hand or foot.

[Page 11] Trust mee saide Amadis worse could not haue happened to thee. Then he went vnto them, and hee found them so sorely bruised, that they lay speechlesse. But Agraies (thinking because fortune had fa­uoured him vnder the arch of loy­all louers, that shee would bee as fauourable vnto him against the perill of the chamber) without staying to beholde his Cosens any longer, hauing his shield vpon his arme, and his sworde naked in his hand, bearing his head lowe, hee ran right to the brasen piller, yet had hee not marched farre beyond it, when hee felt so many blowes, that hardly could hee resist them. But his heart was so great, as mau­ger all lets, he passed euen vnto the marble piller, and there was hee constrained to stay, hauing no power at all to stand any longer v­pon his feet, being so astonied that hee lost his remembrance, and hee was as rudely cast out as his Co­sens had beene before, the which Amadis perceiuing, beeing much displeased, hee began to curse the houre of that their fond enterprise▪ and approaching vnto Galaor, who was now come to himselfe, he said. In troth brother I perceiue I must of force followe, though I should die therein. Ah my Lord, answe­red Galaor, it should suffice you to take warning by our example, I beseech you flie such diuelish for­ceries, for nothing but mischiefe can come from them. Come what will, saide Amadis, accursed may I be, if I faint in the matter. Then drawing his sword, hee well coue­red him with his shield, and ha­uing first made his deuout prayers vnto God, hee cryed, O my deare Lady Oriana, from you onely pro­ceedeth all the strength and cou­rage that euer I had: I beseech you now not to forget him, who so constantly craueth your ayde and good assistance. Which sayd, hee ranne so lightly towards the cham­ber as in spight of all impeach­ments hee came without taking breath, euen vnto the first piller, althought hee felt so many strokes light vpon him, that hee did thinke hee fought with more then a thou­sand knights together: yet his courage so much increased with the onely remembrance of Oriana, that there were neuer any knight before which could come neere him. Then was there heard the voyces of an infinite number, say­ing: If this knight do not end this aduenture, neuer may any knight performe the same. But for all these things hee left not to pursue his fortune, for the further he went, the more encreased his desire to approach the chamber: so as not­withstanding the force of the Di­uels, or inuisible company which gaue him many sore and heauy strokes, hee gained the entry of the chamber, from whence he beheld a hand and an arme couered with green wosted to come forth, which drew him in. And presently there was heard another voyce, which sayde: Welcome is the gentle knight that exceedeth him in armes, which established so many maruailes in this place, who in his time was second to none, but this surpasseth him, and therefore the signiory of this Island of right be­longeth to him, hauing aboue all other deserued it. He which had seene this hand, would haue iud­ged it to haue beene the hand of a very ancient mā, it was so withered: the which vāquished away so soon as Amadis was entred into the chā ­ber, where he felt himselfe so fresh, and in so good estate, as if he had [Page 12] receiued neither blow nor trauell in comming thither. Wherefore hee tooke his shield from his neck, sheathed his sword, and to Oriana he ascribed the glory, for the great honour which he had gotten: for hee imagined that all his strength proceeded onely from her, and no other. The most part of the Inha­bitants in the Isle, with many other strangers had seene the prowesse he had showne, and how the hand brought him into the chamber: especially hauing heard by the words of the voyce, the soueraign­ty of the countrey was attributed to him, for which cause they all re­ioyced very greatly. But none were so ioyfull as Galaor and his fellows, who in stead of emulation, (where-with they might wrongfully haue beene suspected) they were all so glad of the good and honour of A­madis, as if the like had chanced particularly to euery one of them: and they caused themselues to bee carried to him in the chamber, where they were thoroughly and presently healed by the vertue of the place. Thither likewise came Isania Gouernour of the countrey, accompanied with many of the in­habitants, who all did their duty vnto Amadis, as to their new Lord, vnder whom they hoped not onely to liue in peace and rest, but also hereafter to stretch their Domini­ons euen ouer their bordering neighbours and further. Then e­uery one might view the rare deui­ses of this palace: amongst which there was a wardrobe (whether A­polidon & his Lady did most com­monly withdrawe themselues) so beautifull and sumptuous, as it was not onely impossible to make the like, but also it was thought very strange and wonderfull, how any man might imagine that hee could build so rare a peece of worke: see­ing that they which were within, might see what any man did with­out very easily, but they which were without could not perceiue any thing that was within the same. Thus was the firme Island conque­red by Amadis, which had beene a thousand yeeres and more without a Lord, since Apolidon had there set vp his inchantments: and the next day the people came from all parts of the Island to offer their dutie and homage vnto their new Lord, who receiued them curte­ously. I leaue you then to imagine whether Amadis had occasion to be glad and content or no. They which haue oftentimes bin crossed with aduersitie may better iudge therof thē any others can: for they know how to beare, and when to bewaile their misfortunes, more orderly then such who are accu­stomed with all prosperity & hap­pinesse. Neuerthelesse I know not whether of these two extreamities are more cōmendable: for the one commonly draweth vnto it an in­tollerable vaine glory, and pride most damnable: the other a conti­nual care fraught with desperation, very dangerous. Therefore euery wise man (considering there is no­thing parmanent) will neither bee proud with the prosperity that fa­uoureth him, nor appaled for any aduersitie that befalleth him: but he will swim vprightly as in a calm Sea betweene them both, without abusing the one, or affrighted with the other. The which Amadis could not doe, when inconstant fortune made him taste these poy­sons, which for him shee prepared, euen in the midst (as hee thought) of all his prosperities. And euen as shee beyond all measure fauou­red him, (holding him vp by the [Page 13] chinne) in all chances that hap­ned to him, without crossing him in any thing whatsoeuer: in like sort did shee turne her face from him, and brought him into such perplexity and sorrow, that neither force of armes, the continuall re­membrance of his Lady, nor the magnanimitie of his heart were once sufficient to procure him re­medy: but onely the grace, and mery of our Lord God (who in pittie regarded him) after hee had sometime remained in the rocke of aduersitie in sorrow and tribula­tiou, as you may vnderstand: from the which hee deliuered him, and placed him in greater ease, and contentment then before, as by the sequel of this historie you shall perceiue.

You haue heard in the first booke of Amadis, in what anguish the Princesse Oriana was, for the false report of Ardan the Dwarffe, at such time as hee returned backe from his maister, to fetch the pie­ces of the sword, which Gandalin had forgotten behinde him at his departure from the Court: and how she sostered vp in her minde the hate, which she had conceiued against Amadis, not being able to accept any councell either from Mabila or the Damosell of Den­marke, wrongfully suspected him of falshood, who thought on no­thing but only how he might serue and honour her with all faithful­nesse. Now it resteth to shew vn­to you what happened thereof. Know you then that from the day, wherein this ielousie was first im­printed in her, it increased in such sort, as it wholly made her forget her accustomed manner of life, thinking thence forth on nothing so much, as how she might suffici­ently reuenge her on Amadis, who had (as she thought) so grieuously offended her. And hereupon see­ing hee was absent, and that shee could not declare vnto him by word of mouth, the anguish of her soule, shee determined to let him vnderstand it by writing. So as one day amongst others, beeing alone in her chamber, shee tooke pen in hand and writ this letter which en­sueth.

This Letter being sealed, Oria­na called a young Esquire brother to the Damosell of Denmarke, in whom shee greately trusted, and commanded him very expressely, without staying one onely houre, that hee should goe finde out Amadis in the Realme of Sobra­disa, and then presently deliuer this Letter which shee had writ­ten to him: but chiefly that hee should marke his countenance whilst he read the same, and that he should bring backe no answere, though Amadis would giue it him.

CHAP. III.

WHen Durin had at large vnderstood the will of the Princesse, he mounted on horse backe, and hasted him so well that the tenth day follow­ing, hee arriued in the great City of Sobradisa, where hee found the new Queene Briolania, whom hee thought to be the fairest Lady that euer he had seene, except the Prin­cesse Oriana. Then did he tell her how he was come to seek Amadis, but shee tolde him, that now two whole dayes were passed since hee and his fellowes were departed to­wards Great Brittaine, since which time, she heard that they had taken their way vnto the Firme-Island. Whereupon Durin without any longer stay, tooke leaue of her, and rode so long, that he arriued in the Island the same houre that Amadis entred vnder the arch of Loyall louers, where hee beheld how the Image had done more for him, then for any other knight that euer entered the same before, as it was tolde him. Now as Amadis to­gether with Agraies returned to the succour of his brethren, Durin thought to haue spoken with him, but Gandalin entreated him to stay vntill he had tred the perill of the forbiden chamber, beeing assured that he brought Letters to him frō Oriana, the which perchance might haue been a meane (as he thought) to cause him either to forslow or to faile in the achieuing of so great an enterprise: for Amadis was so sub­iect to the Princesse, as hee would not only haue left off the conquest of the Firme-Island, but also of the whole world beside, if she had cō ­manded. Wherefore after hee had [Page 15] finished al the strange aduentures, and the inhabitants of the Isle had receiued him for their Lord, Durin came before him. Then Amadis de­manded of him, what newes was in the Court of King Lisuart. My Lord, answered Durin, I left it euen in the same estate that it was in at your departure. And as he would haue proceeded in his speech, A­madis tooke him by the hand, and went with him alone into a very pleasant Orchard, where they wal­ked together: then he demanded how he came to the Firme-Island. My Lord, said he, my Lady Oriana sent me vnto you, for such affaires as in this letter you shal vnderstād, the which he gaue vnto him. Ama­dis tooke it, and without changing his cheere, he turned his face from Durin, because hee should not be­holde his colour alter, for his heart began to leap with great ioy, so as he knew not wel how to set his cou­tenance. But this sudden mutation was as soone changed into a great despare, because, that reading these rigorous lines, which pronounced his banishment, it stroke so great sorrow to his heart, as hee was no longer able to dissemble his griefe, but burst out into such vehement weeping, that hee was all drowned in teares. Then Durin repented that euer hee was the bringer of such heauie letters, for although the contēts thereof were vnknown vnto him, yet because he knew not how to remedy it, hee durst not come neere Amadis, who was so confounded, as hee fell prostrate on the ground, and in falling, the letters which hee helde, did fall foorth of his hand. Notwithstan­ding, he presently tooke them vp, and began to reade them againe: for the beginning had sogreatly troubled him, that he had not yet seene the end. But casting his eye vpon the superscritiō, which con­tained these words. She who forreth not to die, but onely because then art her murtherer. Hee then fetched so deepe a sigh, as if his soule had par­ted from his body, and therewith­all fell downe back-ward. Where-with Durin was greatly amazed, & ran speedily to helpe him, but hee found him to moue no more then a dead man. Wherefore fearing some greate inconuenience, hee thought to haue called Galaor, or some other, yet fearing that there­by he might be blamed, he staed, & comming vnto Amadis, lifted him vp, who cryed. Oh heauens, why do you thus suffer mee to die, and haue not deserued it? Alas Loyal­tie, what recompence doost thou offer those that neuer offended thee, now I see my selfe forsaken of her, for whose sake I would rather suffer a thousand deathes, then one of her commandements by mee should be disobeied. Then pitti­fully looking vpon the letter, which he had in his hand, he sayde Ah happy letter, because thou wert written by the excellentest per­sonage this day liuing, and yet most vnhappy, in that thou procu­rest the cruell death of the truest louer that euer serued Lady, which death that it may bee the sooner, I will neuer forsake thee, but will place thee in the neerest & deerest place that I haue. So hee put it in his bosome, and asked Durin if hee had ought else to say? No, answered he. Well then, saide Amadis, thou shalt presently returne with my an­swere. In good sooth my Lord, an­swered Durin, shee hath expresly forbidden me to receiue any. And what, did not Mabila nor thy sister wil thee to say any thing to me? No my Lord, answered he, for they [Page 16] knew not of my departure, because my Lady strictly charged mee to acquaint no body therewith. Ah God, sayd Amadis, I see well now, that my misery is voyd of remedy. Then he rose vp and went to a riuer which passed along by the garden, where hee washed his eyes, which done, he willed Durin to call Gan­dalin, and that hee should come back againe with him alone, which hee did: but at their returne they found him in a swound againe, yet recouering incontinent, and seeing Gandalin, he said. Friend I am vn­done, therefore go seeke out Isania the Gouernour of this Isle & bring him hither alone. Then Gandalin ran for him and staied not long vn till they returned together: who being come, Amadis said vnto him, Isania you know the oath you haue sworne vnto me, & the duty where­in you are vnto mee bound, not­withstanding, I pray you yet to promise me as you are true knight, to keep secret whatsoeuer you shal see me doe, vntill to morrow mor­ning after my brethren haue heard diuine seruice, and then secretly goe thou and cause the gate of this Castle to be opened, which being done, let Gādalin bring thither my horse & armour, but take heed that none perceiue it, and I will follow straight after thee: they were no sooner departed from him, but he began to remēber a dream which he had the night before, wherein he thought that being armed, and set vpon his horse hee was on the highest part of a peece of land en­uironed with diuerse sorts of trees, and that round about him were many persons ma [...]ing the greatest ioy in the world, then one of them presented him with a box, saying. Sir taste of that which is herein: which he did, and hee thought hee did eate of a most bitter meat. And as hee cast it from him, the raines of his horse did breake, whereup­on the horse ran vp and downe so that he was not in any sort able for to stay him. When he saw he was so farre from this merry company, he looked backe, and hee thought that hee beheld their great mirth changed into such exceeding mone, as it greatly pitttied him, & willingly would he haue retur­ned backe to assawage their sor­row, if hee could haue mastered his horse, who at that instant en­tred into a tuft of trees, where hee found a rocke enuironed with wa­ter, against the which the horse stayed. Then hee alighted for the great desire he had to rest him, and vnarmed himselfe: herewithall he beheld a very aged man clothed with a religious habit, who tooke him by the hand as if he had pittied his trauaile, & spake to him certain words in a strange language which he did not vnderstand: & being in this trouble he awaked. Vpon this dreame Amadis mused a great while, thinking that oftentimes they foreshow some thing that fol­loweth, because he did see part of that which hee had dreamed to fall out. Thus hee came to the gate where Gandalin and Isania stayed his with furniture, & there armed himselfe: afterwards he mounted vpon his horse, keeping neither way nor path vntill he came neere vnt an Hermitage, then he deman­ded of Isania what place that was: My Lord answered hee, this Chap­pel is dedicated to the Vrgin Ma­rie, wherein oftentimes are diuerse strange miracles wrought. For which cause Amadis allighted from his horse, entred into the Church, and kneeling downe with great de­uotion, hee made his prayers to [Page 17] God. The which being ended, hee rose vp, & called Gandalin to him, whom he held a long time embra­ced in his armes, not being able to speake one word, yet in the end he thus said vnto him. My deere Gan­dalin, thou and I haue beene foste­red vp with one milke, and alwaies brought vp together, and I neuer felt any paine or sorrow, wherein thou hast not had thy part: Thy fa­ther tok me vp in the sea, whē I was yet but a small thing, beeing but newly borne the very night before, afterward he caused thy mother to cherish mee as tenderly as if I had their deeriest childe. Now haue I oftentimes tried thy loyalty, know­ing very wel what seruice thou hast done for me, the which I did hope in time with the fauour of God to haue recompensed, but this great mis-fortune is fallen vpon me, the which I feele more sharpe and cru­ell then death it selfe, especially seeing I am constrained to forsake thee, hauing no other thing to be­stow vpon thee, but the Isle which I haue newly conquered, which I do giue thee, commanding Isania, with my other subiects (vpon that faith and homage which they haue sworne vnto me) to receiue thee as their Lord, so soone as they shall be assured of my death. Yet is it my wil that thy father and mother shal enioy the same, during their liues, and afterwards it shall remaine vn­to thee: which is in recompence of the good I haue receiued of thē, whom I thought to haue better re­warded, according to their deserts and my desire. And as for you, Lord Isania, I pray you that of the fruits and reuenues of this Isle, which of long time you haue had in your keeping, you should build here in this place a Monestarie, in the honor of the virgin Mary, and to endow it with so much liuing, as thirtie religious men may hence-forth liue vpon the same. Ah my Lord, said Gandalin, I neuer for­sooke you for any trauaile or perill which hitherto you haue suffered, neither yet will I leaue you if God be pleased: and if you dye, I will not liue after you, neither for all the world will I lose you. There­fore you may (if it please you) be­stowe this gift vpon my Lords your brethren, seeing I will not haue it, neither do I desire it in a­ny sort. Holde thy peace, said A­madis, let me heare these words no more, vnlesse thou desirest to dis­please me: but do as I would haue thee: for my bretheren may pro­uide far greater liuings for thē and their friends, then this small thing which I doe giue vnto thee. But touching you, my deere friend Isania, it very greatly grie­ueth me that I haue not the means to gratulate you according to your deserts: notwithstanding, I leaue you amongst so many of my good friends, as they shall supply that which I cannot. I pray you my Lord, answered hee, suffer mee onely to accompany you, that I may be partaker of any wealth or woe that shall happen to you: Wherein you shall fully shew mee your loue, and I rest satisfied to my liking. My deere friend, saide Amadis, I doubt not but that you would follow with a good will, notwithstanding my miseric is so excessiue, as besides my maker, none can ease it: whome onely I humbly beseech to bee my con­ductour, for I will haue no other companion. And therefore Gandalin if thou desirest Knight-hood, holde take it presently with my armour, which I doe giue thee, for since thou hast heere­tofore [Page 18] so well kept them, it is rea­son they should now serue thee, considering how little I shall here­after need them: if not, thou maiest receiue this honour of my brother Galaor, vnto whom my Lord Isania here, shall in my behalfe make re­quest to the same ende: and I en­treate thee to serue him, euen as faithfully as thou hast serued mee. For my loue vnto him is so great, as amongst all my most afflictions I shall bewaile his absence, because I haue euermore foūd him an hūble obedient & a louing brother. You shall further request him, to take into his seruice Ardan my Dwarffe whom I recommend vnto him, & to the Dwarffe say, that I will him to serue my brother dilligently. This sayd, both hee and those to whom he spake burst forth into a­boundance of teares, & comming vnto them he embraced them, say­ing: Now my friends, seeing I ne­uer hope to see you any more, I en­treate you to pray to God for mee, and vpon your liues, I charge you that none of you doe follow mee. Then hee got vpon his horse, set spurres to his sides, and galloped from them, remembring not at his departure to take either Launce, shield, or helmet with him. Thus he entred into a desert place at the foot of a mountaine, taking no o­ther way but whither his horse would carry him, and so long hee rode vntill the most parte of the night was now spent, when the horse entred into a little brook en­uironed with many trees, where he would haue drunken. But as hee passed on further, Amadis was strucken on the face with certaine branches of trees, so rudely as it wakened him out of his study, and therewithall looking vp, hee per­ceiued that hee was in a couert and solitary place, beset with store of thick bushes, which greatly reioy­ced him, because hee thought hee should very hardly bee found out in this thicket. There he alighted, tyed his horse, and sate him downe vpon the grasse, the better to me­ditate vpon his melancholy: but hee had wept so long, and his braines were so light, that at the last hee fell asleepe.

CHAP. IIII.

AMadis beeing depar­ted, Gandalin who re­mayned in the Her­mitage with Isania & Durin, as you haue heard, began to make the greatest lamentation in the world, and said. Although he hath forbidden mee to follow him, yet will I not stay for any thing behinde him, at least I will carry him his armour. I will gladly beare you companie for this night, sayd Durin. I would to God we might finde him in better case then hee was at his departure. Then they tooke their leaue of Isa­nia, and getting to horse-backe, they followed the same way that Amadis had tooke, coasting heere and there about the wood, so long till fortune brought them where hee lay. When his horse sented [Page 19] their horses, hee began to neigh, whereby Gandalin knew his Master was not farre off, wherefore the more secretly to behold his coun­tenance, hee allighted, comming so neere vnto him as he might ea­sily behold where he slept hard by the riuer side: whereupon he stood close, watching when he should a­wake, & he had not staied long be­fore his slumber left him. Then he suddenly started vp as if hee had been frighted. At that instant was the Moon withdrawne by the daies approach, yet sate hee still on the grasse, beginning his moane in a most strange and pittifull manner, and bitterly weeping, he burst out into these words. Alas fortune too inconstant & sickle, why hast thou first aduanced mee, and afterwards ouerthrowne me. Now I well per­ceiue, thou canst doe more hurt in one houre, then thou wilt do good in a thousand yeares, for if hereto­fore thou haste giuen me any plea­sure or ioy, thou hast now in a mo­ment cruelly robbed me of all, lea­uing me in bitter tormēts far worse then death: and seeing thou wast minded so to serue mee, why hast thou not at the least made the one equal with the other? because thou knowest that if heeretofore thou didst bestow vpon me any content­ment, yet was it euermore mingled with great sorrowe. In like sort shouldst thou reserue for me some sparke of hope, with this cruelty wherewith thou now tormentest me, executing vpon me an incom­prehensible thing, in the thought of those whom thou fauourest: who because they feele not this mischiefe, doe thinke those riches, glories, and honours which vnto them thou lendest, to bee euerla­sting. But they forget, that besides the troublesom trauels which their bodies doe suffer for the keeping thereof, how their soules are in danger to perish therefore. For by thy flatteries & wanton intisemēts, thou vtterly ouerthrowest them, & in the end compellest them to en­ter into the labyrinth of all desola­tion, from whence they are neuer able to depart. And quite contra­ry are thy aduersities, for so much as if a man doe resist thē patiently, flying greedy couetousnes, & dis­ordinate ambition, he is lifted out of this vilde place into perpetuall glory. Notwithstanding I beeing most vnfortunate, could not chuse this good, seeing that if all the world were mine, and should bee taken from me by thee, yet hauing only the good grace of my Mistris, it should be sufficient to make me as mighty as the greatest monark, the which I also lacking, how is it possible for me in any sort to liue? Therefore in fauour and recom­pence of my loyalty, I beseech thee not to giue mee a languish­ing death: but if thou art appoin­ted to ende my dayes, doe it with­out delay, taking compassion of him, whose longer life thou art ignorant how irkesome it is. This sayd, hee fell downe backward vp­on the grasse, and was as silent as if he had beene in a swound. Then within a while after hee cryed, Ah louely Oriana, you haue wounded me deadly, in banishing me dis­curteously, for I will neuer trans­gresse your cōmandements, what danger soeuer may happen mee, seeing that if therein I failed, my life also were thereby finished: notwithstanding for as much as I wrongfully receiue my death, the more extream is my dolor. But see­ing that with my end you shall rest satisfied, I neuer esteemed my life at so high a price, but I wold, if it were [Page 20] possible, change it into a thousand deaths, to afford you neuer so lit­tle pleasure. In like sort since it li­keth you to execute your anger a­gainst me, I am very well content, if for my affliction you may hence-forth liue at your ease, for whether soeuer my Soule flyeth, it shall re­ceiue most quiet when it shal know that you remaine contented. And vntill mine innocencie shall bee known vnto you, I will endeauor to finish the rest of my sorrowfull daies in all bitternesse and displea­sure, and being dead, my spirit shal lament the griefe which wil happen vnto you for the wrong which you haue done to me, specialy wanting power to succour you. O king Pe­rion my Lord and father, how lit­tle occasion shall you haue to be­waile my death, when you shall neither know the same nor the cause thereof? But because that knowing the same, it would bee to you a griefe intollerable, and yet it could be no mittigation of my tor­ment, I pray, that my misfortune may to you neuer be manifest, least the same should abridge the re­mainder of your dayes, which yet are not determined. Then after a small pause he cryed, O my second father Galuanes, truely I do greatly grieue that my aduerse Fortune doth not permit me to discharge that great bond in which to you I am bound, for if my father gaue me life, you preserued the same, in de­liuering me from the danger of the Sea, being launched forth into his mercilesse waues, euen when I had but newly left my mothers womb, and afterwardes I was by you as carefully cherished, as if I had beene your deerest childe. I am as­sured good King Arban that you will greatly bewaile my sorrowfull [...]nd, yet valiant Angriotta d'Esta­uaux, Guillan, and a number of my other friends, shall assist you to be­mone his death, who euer loued and held you deere. Ah good co­sin Mabila, what haue I deserued of you, or of the Damosel of Den­mark, that by you I am abandoned when I haue most neede of your ayde? Haue you so many times preserued my life, & doe you now (without desert) make me pay tri­bute for my receiued pleasure, in consenting to my miserable death? Beleeue mee, if need were, deare friends, for your sakes would I bee sacrificed: and yet you make no conscience to forsake mee, which maketh mee verily to beleeue, that you haue denied mee your cōfort, heauen and earth haue desired my confusion, which shall the lesse grieue me in that I see no remedy. Gandalin and Durin hearing these lamentations of Amadis, the were so much agrieued therewith, that they wept as bitterly as hee, yet durst they not shew themselues, be­cause hee had so straitly charged them not to follow him. But Ama­dis ceased not his mone vntill hee heard a knight who passed hard by him singing this song

[Page 21] Hauing ended his song hee alighted vnder a tusted tree planted by the high way side, thinking there to passe the rest of the night: but worse happened to him then he hoped, for Gandalin which had heard what hee sayde of Oriana, (doubting that Amadis had not marked it, because his minde was otherwise occupied) sayde vnto Durin, It were best for mee to goe to my Master to know what hee intendeth to doe. Then came hee forth of the bush where he was hid­den, & beheld Amadis that sought for his horse to depart frō thence, who as he looked here & there he espied Gandalin: When not know­ing him at the first, he cryed. Who art thou that commest to surprise me? speake and hide thy selfe no longer. My Lord, answered he, I an Gandalin, who will helpe you to finde your horse, if so it please you. When Amadis heard this, Ah said hee, how durst you persume to fol­low me, hauing so expresly forbid­you? beleeue mee thou hast great­ly displeased mee, let mee see thee no more but depart, or else be sure thou shalt die. My Lord, answered Gandalin, mee thinkes you should forget this manner of behauiour, and bethinke you how to reuenge the foolish speeches which euen now were vttered by a knight, who is not yet far from you, for they are greatly to your disaduantage. This sayde Gandalin to pacifie his dis­pleasure towardes him, that hee might bee the more incensed a­gainst the other. I did heare him as well as you (sayd he) and therefore am I content to seeke rest else-where, and to depart from hence where all misfortune doth follow me. What sayd Gandalin, is this all that you are determined to doe? What wouldst thou more? said he. That you fight with him answered Gandalin, to make him confesse his presumption. I beleeue sayd hee thou wouldest say otherwise, see­ing thou knowest very well that I neither haue spirit, heart, not any force, hauing lost all in losing her who gaue me life, so as now I am no better then a dead man, neither is there in Great Brittaine any knight so cowardly, that could not easily ouercome mee if I should combate with him, so haplesse and hopelsse am I. Trust me answered Gandalin, you are in a great errour thus to suffer your heart to saint & to let your courage faile, euen whē it should most serue you to ad­uance the honour of her, who so neerely toucheth you. What re­port will Durin make here of thinke you, who hath heard and seene all, and is greatly abshed, that now you behaue your selfe no better. How (sayd Amadis) is Durin here? I truely sayd Gandalin, wee came both together: and I beleeue hee followeth you thus, to declare your manner of behauiour vnto her that sent him vnto you. Get thee gone sayd Amadis, thou vr­gest mee too much. Yet when hee thought that Durin should re­turne to Oriana, his heart was so inflamed, that hee called for his armes, and mounting on his horse he went toward the knight, whom hee found layd vnder the tree, hol­ding his horse by the bridle. Then Amadis, in a great rage sayde vnto him, Sir knight who so greatly ex­tollest thy fortune in loue, I be­leeue that against all right thou hast receined that good that loue hath doue for thee (if good it may be tearmed) and that thou neuer deseruedst it, the which I wil proue with the losse of thy head. What art thou answered the other, that [Page 22] speakest so audaciously? dost thou think that I am fauoured of the fai­rest Lady in the worlde for any o­ther cause but onely for my valour and high knighthood? wherewith I will make thee presently confesse that loue hath reason to fauour me, and that it is not for thee to speake thereof. It is but thy opini­on sayde Amadis: but thou must knowe that in despight of thee, I am hee who hath least occasion to praise loue, because hee hath so vildely deceiued me, that I wil ne­uer dayes in my life put any trust in him, knowing how falsely and treacherously he commonly vseth those that most faithfully do serue him. And because I haue suffici­ently prooued it, I will maintaine that he can neuer be so faithfull, as I haue found him false. That it is so, let vs see whether hee hath gai­ned more in thee then he hath lost in me. Then the knight mounted on his horse, and beeing ready to fight, he answered, Vnhappy knight depriued of all good, and banisht iustly from loue, beeing vnworthy of his fauor, get thee from my pre­sence, for I should commit a most horrible fact, to lay my hands vpon such a vild & miserable fellow. So saying, he turned his horse to haue fled away, if Amadis had not staied him in calling him. Villaine, wilt thou then defend thy loue which so highly thou prisest onely with thy countenance, and so get thee gone because thou wouldest fly the combat. Trust me answered the other thou art in a right opini­on, for it is true that I haue no de­sire to proue my selfe against a per­son of so small desert, but seeing thou wouldest that I should breake thy head, I am content, and if thy heart will serue, defend it if thou canst. Herewithall they ran one a­gainst the other with such force, as their Lances flew to shiuers, pear­cing their shields quite thorough, neuerthelesse their armour being good & strong staied the stroke, yet the knight fell to the ground car­rying the raines of his horse with him, wherefore he rose again light­ly. The which Amadis beholding, he said vnto him, Truely knight if the right which you pretend in so faire a friend bee not better main­tained with your sword then it hath beene with your staffe, Loue hath made but a bad choyce of you for a valiant champion, & your Lady a far worser match in lighting vpon such a carpet knight. He made no account at all of these reproaches, but boldly drew out his sword, and comming neere to Amadis laid at him so lustily, that hee had beene wounded if with his shield hee had not well warded himselfe, wherein his sword was so farre entred, that he could not pul it forth again, but was forced to let go his holde, lea­uing it sticking fast in the shield of Amadis. Who lifted himselfe vp in his stirrops hitting him so sound a blow vpon his head-peece, that it pearced euen vnto the quick: & the blow gliding downe, it lighted vpon his horse neck, wounded him to the death, falling downe in the place and his master vnder him all astonied. But Amadis seeing him arise said vnto him, Gentle lo­uer, I am of the minde that Cupid henceforth should erect a trophie for the high prowesse which you haue shewed in his seruice: & that as long as you liue you should not cease to sing his praises, & declare those benefits which vpon you hee hath bestowed: As for mee I will goe secke my fortune else where. So he set spurres to his horse, & as he departed, he beheld Gandalin & [Page 23] Durin, when cōming neere them, he tooke Durin by the hand, and sayd vnto him: Friend Durin, I see my misfortune so strange, and my sorrow so intollerable, as of force I must die, which God grant it may be without delay: for death onely will giue rest and ease to this torture which vexeth mee. Salute from me the Princesse Mabila, and thy good sister, the Damosell of Denmarke, vnto whom thou mayst declare my cruel death, which I suffer with as great wrōg as euer any knight suffered. Before the which, I would to God I had the meanes to doe them any seruice, in recom­pence of the duty I doe owe them for all the good they haue done, and the fauours they haue purcha­sed for mee. Then hee beganne his moane, weeping so bitterly as Du­rin therewith had his heart so stop­ped with woe, that hee was not a­ble to answer one word: Wherfore Amadis embraced him and com­mitted him to God. At that instant began the day to appeare, when A­madis perceiuing that Gandalin followed him, hee sayd vnto him: if thou determinest to come with me, take heede vpon thy life that thou turne me not from any thing which I shall say or doe, otherwise I pray thee forthwith to turne ano­ther way that I may see thee no more. Beleeue me Sir, sayd Ganda­lin, I wil do whatsoeuer shal please you. Then Amadis deliuered him his armor to bear, cōmanding him to pul the sword forth of his shield & to cary it to the amorous knight.

CHAP. V.

SEeing that it falleth out so fit, I will de­clare vnto you (be­fore I passe any fur­ther) the estate of the amorous Knight, of whom wee spake euen now. You must knowe that hee was called Patin, brother to Don Sidon the Emperor of Rome, and hee was the best knight that was to be found in all Romania. By meanes whereof he was feared and famous through all the Empire, chiefly because hee was to succeed in his brothers dignitie, for there was none more neare the same then hee, and the Emperour was already so olde, that hee neuer ho­ped to haue any heire. Now this Patin was one day talking with the Queene of Sardinia, named Sarda­mira, one of the fairest Ladies in the world, whom hee loued ex­treamely. And as hee gaue her to vnderstand what feruency and tor­ment hee endured in ouer-louing her, she answered him: My Lord, I assuredly beleeue that which you tell mee, and the better to witnesse the same, I let you know that there is no prince liuing for whō I would do more then for you, nor whom I would more willingly take for hus­band: because I know your good parts, and the high knight-hood where withall you are so famoused. These speeches bred so great pre­sumption in the heart of Patin, as besides that hee was by nature one of the proudest Gentlemen in the world, hee entred into such glory, that he answered her: Madame, I [Page 24] haue heard that King Lisuart hath a daughter esteemed the fairest Princesse in the worlde, but for the loue of you I will goe into Great Brittaine, there to mainteine a­gainst all men, that her beauty is not cōparable to yours: the which I alone will prooue in combate a­gainst two of the best knights that dare say the contrary: whom if I cannot ouercome, I will that King Lisuart doe cause my head to bee cut off. In good faith my Lord, an­swered the Queene, I am of a con­trary opinion: for if the Princesse haue any beauty in her, it nothing impaireth that which God hath bestowed vpon mee, if any beauty there bee: and me thinks that you haue other means more fit to make known your prowesse in all places. Hap what may hap answered hee, I will doe it for your loue, to the end that euery one may knowe that as you are the fairest Lady in the world, so you are beloued of the valiantest Knight aliue. Hereupon continuing in this minde, within a while after hee tooke leaue of the Queene, and passed into Great Brittaine accompanied onely with two Esquires. Then hee enquired where he might find King Lisuart, vnto whose Court he shortly after came: and because hee was more richly armed then wandering knights were accustomed to bee, the King thought him to be some great personage: For this cause hee receiued him most honoura­bly, appointing him into a cham­ber to shift himselfe. When he was vnarmed hee returned to the King who stayed for him, marching with such grauity, as those that beheld (seeing his comely stature) iudged him to bee of great courage. But the King tooke him by the hand, and conferring together hee sayde vnto him, gentle friend, I pray you thinke it not strange, if I desire to know who you are, because I may the more honor you in my Court. It may please your Maiesty, answe­red Patin, I am not come into this countrey, to hide mee, but rather to make my selfe knowne as well vnto your Highnesse as vnto all o­thers: I am that Patin brother to the Emperour which humbly be­seecheth you to enquire no further of my affaire, vntill I haue seen my Lady Oriana your daughter. When the King heard that, he embraced him, and in excusing his ignorance he sayd to him. My good Cosen, I am maruailous glad of the honour that you haue done me, In cōming thus to visit me in my owne coun­trey, assuring you that since you are desirous to see my daughter, she shall not onely be shewed vnto you, but likewise the Queene, and all her trayne. And so long they continued their talke, vntill they had couered for supper. Then the King caused him to sit next vnto him, where hee found himselfe compassed with so great a number of knights, as hee much marualled thereat: and began to despise the Court of the Emperour his bro­ther, as also of all other Princes in respect of this which hee saw. Af­ter the tables were taken vp, it be­ing time to goe to rest, the King cōmanded Don Grumedan to bring Patin to his lodging and to shew him all the honor and good enter­tainment hee could. So for that night they departed, vntill the next morning that hee came and found the King hearing diuine seruice, af­ter the which hee was conducted to the Ladies, who receiued him curteously: for at his comming the Queen took him by the hand, pray­ing him to sit betweene her, & her [Page 36] daughter Oriana, whom at that in­stant he beheld with such an eye, as the loue which before he did beare vnto the Queene Sardamira, was wholly changed vnto her, beeing captiuated with her excellent beau­ty and goodly grace. You may iudge then how he would haue e­steemed her if he had seene her in the time of her perfect health, which was now much decaied by reason of this new iealousie which she had conceiued against Amadis which made her looke leane, pale, and wan: but these defaults could nothing quench the heate of the fire already kindled in the heart of Patin, who was so far beside him-selfe, that hee determined to be­seech the king to bestow her vpon him in mariage: making account that it would be easily granted, considering his birth and high e­state. Hereupon he tooke leaue of the Ladies, and returned towards the King, who was ready to sit downe to dinner, the which being ended hee went aside towards a window, and calling Patin vnto him, they talked long together. Af­terwards falling from one matter to another, Patin said vnto him. It may please your maiesty, yester-day I promised to tel you (so soone as I had seene my Lady Oriana your daughter) what moued me to come from Rome into Great-Brit­taine, I beseech you not to bee of­fended if I haue taken so far a iour­ney, to come in person to require her of you in mariage. I haue cho­sen her as wel to haue your alliance as also for the beauty and good grace which remaineth in her. I am sure you are not ignorant (con­sidering the place from whence I am descended, & the great meanes which cannot faile me, as one day to be Emperor of Rome) that if I would else where set my liking, there is no Prince this day liuing, which would not be very glad to receiue mee for his sonne in law. Good cosin, answered the king, I thanke you for the kindnesse and honour you do offer me, but the Queene hath alwaies promised O­riana that she shal neuer be maried against her will, wherefore before wee grant you any thing, we must know of her how she will bee con­tent therewith: this the King sayd because he would not discon­tent Patin, for he was not minded to bestowe his daughter vpon any Prince or Lord that should carry her forth of the land. Patin was sa­tisfied with these wordes, and ex­pecting some other answere of the King, hee stayed fiue dayes at the Court, yet the king neuer spake to Oriana thereof, although he as­sured him that hee had done as much as he could, to cause her consent thereto, but he could in no sort preuaile with her. There­fore win her your selfe if you can, said he, and pray her to doe that which I shall command her. Then Patin came vnto her and said. Ma­dame I am to desire a request of you, that shall be both honorable and profitable for you, the which I pray you not to deny me. My Lord (answered the princesse) there is no reason to refuse the grant, being such a reasonable request as you assure me it is, therefore if it please you, defer not to declare it vnto me. I beseech you, said Patin, to o­bey whatsoeuer the king your Fa­ther shall command you. Oriana (who vnderstood not his mea­ning) answered him. You may bee assured Sir, that I should be very sorry to do otherwise. This answere wonderfully contented Patin, for he now assuredly thought Oriana [Page 26] to be his, and said vnto her, Madam I haue determined to go thorough this countrie to seeke strange ad­uentures, and I hope to performe so high deeds of Arms, as you shall shortly heare news of my prowes, so much to mine aduantage, as very easily you will cōdiscend vnto that which the king will command you for the loue of me. Herewithall he tooke leaue of her, manifesting at this time his intention vnto her no farther, and returned vnto the king vnto whom he declared the answer of Oriana, together with the desire he had to proue himselfe against al wandring Knights. Do as it please you, answered the king, notwith­standing I would aduise you to de­sist from such an enterprise: for you shall finde many strange and very dangerous aduentures, with a great number of knights well exer­cised in armes, who may happily in some sort displease you. If they be valiant and hardy, said he, I hope they shall not finde any faintnes or cowardlines in me, as my deedes hereafter may witnes. Wel, answe­red the king. Do what you shall thinke best. Thus Patin departed in the hope which he had to enioy O­riana, for the loue of whom he had framed this song, which he sung when fortune brought him neere the place where Amadis made his mone, who vsed him as you haue heard. But now we will leaue him, and recount vnto you what hap­ned to Durin, who hauing left Ama­dis, returned the next way passing by the place where Patin lay woun­ded, who had taken off his Helmet for the grief of his woūd, hauing al­ready lost such store of blood, that his face and armour was all stained and couered therewith. He behol­ding Durin, said to him, Gentle-man, my friend, tell me where I may finde a place to cure my wounds. Truly answered hee, I know no place but one, and those whom you shall finde there, are so sorrowfull, that I beleeue they can­not looke vnto you. Wherefore? said Patin. For a Knight (quoth Durin) who newly hath wonne the place that I tell you of, and seen the images of Apolidon and his Lady, which till then no other might be­hold: since when he is departed thence secretly in such melancho­ly, as his death is greatly feared Be­like said Patin, you speake of the Firme-Island. True (quoth Durin.) What said Patin, is it conquered already? certes, I am heartily sorry, for I was going thither, with inten­tion to proue my selfe, hoping to haue won the same. Durin smiled, and answered him, Truely knight if there be no more prowesse hidden within you, then that which you haue now manifested, I thinke in stead of honour, you might there haue gotten shame and infamy. Patin thinking himselfe iniuried rose vp, and thought to haue taken hold of the ra [...]es of Durins horse: but Durin turned from him: here­fore Patin seeing hee was farre e­nough from him, hee called him againe and said. I pray you faire sir, tell what he is that hath gotten this famous conquest. Then tell me first what you are, answered Durin. I will not stick for that, said Patin, I am sir Patin, brother to the Emperour of Rome.

God bee praised, answered Durin: Yet so farre as I see you are of higher birth then bounty, and your courage is as slender as your Courtesie is small: Witnesse the speech which of late you had with the Knight that you enquire after, who [...] the very same that euen now went [Page 27] from you, whom I beleeue (consi­dering how hee hath handled you) you will grant that he is wor­thy of such a victory, and not Patin whom he hath vanquished. This said, he set spurres to his horse, ta­king the right way vnto London, in full purpose to recite vnto the Princesse Oriana all that hee had seene and heard of Amadis

CHAP. VI.

I Haue of late told you that when Amadis de­parted from the firme Island, it was so secret­ly, that Galaor, Flore­stan, Agraies and others, neuer per­ceiued any thing thereof: you haue also heard the oath which he had taken of Isania the gouernour, that he should not declare any thing which he had seene, vntill the next morning when masse was ended: the which Isania performed. For the day following, when the Lords were ready to sit downe at the Ta­ble, they perceiued that Amadis was absent: and enquiring for him, Isania told them that they should know after dinner where hee was become. Thereupon they sat down thinking that he was gone somwhe­ther for his pleasure. After the Ta­bles were taken vp, Isania said vnto thē. My lords the misfortune of my Lord Amadis is far worse then you thinke it is, as I shall presently de­clare vnto you. Then he recited in what order he deparded from thē, the great sorrow wherein hee was, and what he had commanded him to say vnto them, especially how he had disposed of the Island, and he earnestly intreated thē not to fol­low him, seeing that he hoped for no remedy of his misery: For his death was not to bee preuented. When they heard these pittifull news, there was not any of them whose eyes were not filled with teares, and they began to make a most sorrowfull lamentation. But Galaor made the greatest moane of all, saying. If I may releeue him from distresse, the best knight in the world shall not in this sort die. Although he hath commanded vs to stay, yet shall he not be obeyed for me at this time: but I will seeke vntil I shal haue found him, & wil know who hath wronged him, that I may eyther reuenge it, or die in the quarell. Beleeue me answered Agraies, we will not be far behinde you: and if we cannot remedy his misfortune by force of courage, or counsell, yet at the least we will al­together die with him for compa­ny. Moreouer said Isania, he desi­reth you my Lord Galaor to make Gandalin a knight, and take Ardan his dwarff into your seruice, whom he recommendeth vnto you. Then Galaor called the Dwarff, and said vnto him: Ardan, thy master hath forsaken vs, and willed that thou shouldst be mine, assure thee that so long as I line, I will not leaue thee for his sake. How? answered the Dwarffe, is my Lord dead then? So saying, he fel down where he stood, and began to teare his haires, ma­king so great sorrow as it was won­derfull, & said: I might well be coū ­ted a traytor to liue after my Ma­ster, wherwithal he had slain himself if they had not takē heed vnto him. Florestan his heart was so ouerchar­ged with griefe that he could ney­ther weep, nor speak, but sit le [...]i [...]g as if he had been in a traunce. And [Page 28] when he recouered his speech, he said vnto his fellowes: my Lords, it is no time for vs to weepe nor la­ment when we should rather inde­uour to succour my Lord Amadis: let women waile, but let manly mindes conioyne together, & de­uise how we may prouide a remedy for so great a mischiefe. As for me, I thinke that without longer delay we should all to horseback, making as great speede as we may to finde him, then we may know if there be any meanes to cure his malady: for the time passeth, his sorrow increa­seth, and he still goeth farther from vs. The Lord Isania (as he saith) hath brought him some part of his way, he may shew vs then which path he hath taken, but if we shall longer tarry, wee may lose him, without hope euer to see him a­gaine. Therefore my Lords I pray you let vs make hast to follow him. Vnto the which they all agreed, & caused their horses to be presently brought. Then Isania conducted them to the place where Amadis had left him, and from thence they rode till they came whereas Patin lay wounded, whom they beheld lying vpon the ground, whilest his two esquires did cut down boughs and poles, to make him a litter: for he was so feeble with the losse of his blood, that he could not sit on horseback, nor answere one onely word vnto the knights who saluted him, and enquired of him, what he was that had done him such out-rage: but he made a signe that his Squires should tell them. Where-upon Galaor came, and demanded the matter of them, they answered him that he had iousted against a knight which came from the Firme Island, by whom hee was ouer-throwne at the first encounter, and how that afterwards thinking to reuenge him with his Sworde, he sped so illas they might per [...] by his hurt. What is become of the knight, said Galaor. By our faith an­swered the squires, we know not, for we were not present at the cō ­bat. Notwithstanding we do think that we did meete him in our com­ming hither, and he did ride ouer the forrest so fast as his horse could run, hauing none following him but one Squire, who wept bitterly carrying after him his Armour and shield, vpon the which were 2. Ly­ons sables, in a field Ore. In faith said Florestan it is he whom we doe seeke. Shew vs therefore what way he tooke, the which they did. Then the knights went after him, and so long they rode, vntill they came to a crosse way, where they staid to aduise what was best to be done: for there was not any body that might tell them any newes of that which they sought: and therefore they determined to separate them-selues, promising one vnto another to meete at the Court of king Lis­uart, vpon S. Iohns day next ensu­ing: but if by that time they heard no news of Amadis, then they would determine further what to do in the matter, thus taking leaue of each other, they departed with weeping: and afterward they did what they might, but it was all in vaine, although they had ridden through many strange countries in which they found many great accidents & perilous aduentures. But you must know, that so soone as Amadis had sent Durin away, he set spurres vnto his horse, neyther caring, nor determining what way he should take, & he went euen as fortune guided him: in the end hee came to the bottom of an obscure valley, ful of vnderwood & bush [...]s which place he thought most com­modious [Page 29] to hide himselfe from be­ing found out of any that might follow him. Here did he alight, letting his horse goe where hee would, but vnbridled him not: then he sate down by the side of a brook, which descended from the moun­taine, and tooke a little water to refresh him withall. By this time Gandalin had ouertaken him, who had stayed behinde to deliuer Pa­tin his Sword, who finding Amadis laid all along vpon the grasse, so still that he heard not one word to proceede from him: hee durst not say any thing to him, but sate downe hard by him, and within a while after Amadis rose vp, and be­holding Gandalin laide vpon the ground by him, hee pushed him with his foote saying, sleepest thou Gandalin? By my faith sir no, an­swered he, for instead of sleeping, I thought vpon two things which concerne you greatly, the which (if it please you) I will declare, if not, I will hold my peace. Go to rise said Amadis, and take our hor­ses, for I will get me gone, because I should be very sory to be found of those (who it may be) do follow me. Truly answered Gandalin, me thinks you are farre enough out of the way: besides your horse is so wearie, as if you let him not rest a little, it is impossible for him to beare you any longer. I pray thee said he, (in weeping) do what thou shalt thinke best, for whether I stay or goe, my sorrows are remediles. Eate then a little of this bread which I haue brought for your sus­tenance, answered Gandalin, but he refused it. What will you then do said he, shall I tell you whereupon I studied euen now? It is all one to me answered Amadis, I thinke on nothing so much as my death. Then hearken vnto me if it please you, said Gandalin, I haue long time mused vpon the letter which Oriana sent vnto you, as also vpon the words which the knight vtte­red against whom you did fight, and so consequently vpon the lightnesse and inconstancy where-with women are endued: for see­ing she hath changed her loue and your selfe for a stranger, shee witnesseth very well what trust a man should repose in such as she is: and on the other side, when I consider her vertues, I thinke it in a manner impossible, that she should so farre forget her selfe. But it may be that in your absence, some false report of you, hath been made vnto her, whereby she hath conceiued this displeasure against you, the concealing whereof so much the more increased her grief. Notwithstanding, seeing you are assured that you neuer offended her, although she haue beene too credulous, yet in the end the truth will be knowne, and thereby your innocency the more apparant, it seemeth vnto me that you should not thus despaire, seeing that shee may repent her folly, and acknow­ledge the wrong which she hath done vnto you, in such sort as re­quiring pardon for her misconceit, she may make you amends with more ioy & contentment then you euer yet enioyed together: & ther­fore inforce your selfe to eate, that you may be able hereafter to pre­serue your life, but if you do wil­fully suffer the same thus to be lost, you shall also loose all the good & honor that euer you may or can hope for in this world. Hold thy peace said Amadis, for thou hast so shamefully and wickedly lied, as I know no man which would not be displeased to heare thee thus to ac­cuse her, because that so wise a [Page 30] Princesse neuer did amisse at any time: and if I die, I haue well deserued it, seeing that she shall be obeied and satisfied euen vntill my death. And be thou assured, if I did not thinke that thou speakest this, onely with intent thereby to asswage my sorrow: I would pre­sently strike thy head from thy shoulders, for the offence which thou hast done vnto me, and take heed that henceforth you commit not the like fault.

When he had so said, he arose vp in a great rage, and walked vp along the riuer, so pensiue that he knew not what way he should take. Which Gandalin perceiuing, (fea­ring his anger, and thinking also that he would not goe farre) he let him alone and laid him downe to sleepe, his eyes beeing very heauie with watching. When Amadis was returned vnto him, and per­ceiued him so sound asleepe, hee would not wake him, but took his owne horse and sadled him, then did he hide the bridle and harnesse of Gandalins horse in the bushes, to the end when he awaked he might not follow him. Then he armed himselfe and mounted on horse-backe, coasting ouer the top of the mountaine. Thus without any stay at all, hee rode till it was within foure houres of the sun setting, dis­cending then into a great plaine, where there were two high trees, and vnder them a faire fountaine, commonly called, The fountaine of the plaine field: to which hee went to water his horse. And as he approched neere the fountaine, he beheld a religious man clothed poorly in a garment made of gotes haire, hauing his beard and head all white, who was watering his Asse. Amadis saluted him, asking him if he were a Priest. Truely, said the olde man, it is more then forty yeeres since I first said Masse. The gladder am I thereof, said Amadis. Then he alighted & took his saddle and bridle from his horse, who fin­ding himselfe at liberty, began to run towards the Forrest, Amadis minding not to follow him, but threw off all his armour, which done, he kneeled at the olde mans feete, who taking him vp by the hand, made him sit downe by him: & beholding him well, he thought him to bee the fairest Gentleman that euer he saw, although hee was pale and wan, hauing his face all bedewed with teares: whereat the Hermit was moued with so great compassion, that hee sayde vnto him. Knight, you seeme to bee full of sorrow, and if your griefe pro­ceede from the repentance of any sinne that you haue committed, In truth my son you are very hap­py: and if it bee for any temporall losse, then I thinke (seeing your youth, and the estate wherein you haue liued vnto this present, you shold not thus vēxe your selfe, but pray for forgiuenesse. Then hee gaue him his blessing, saying. Goe too, now confesse your sins. Here-upon Amadis began to tell the whole discourse of his life, with­out letting any thing passe. Truely, saide the holy man, seeing that you are discended of so high a birth, you ought to bee the more vertu­ous: yet you must not dispaire for any tribulation that may happen vnto you, cheefely, for this that proceedeth from the occasion of a woman, who is as easily won as she is lightly lost. Wherefore my son, I councell you to forget such vani­ties, and henceforth to banish the thought of such a miserable man­ner of life from you, for it will not onely be yrkesome vnto you, but [Page 31] also euery vertuous person will condemne you for it. Ah father, answered Amadis, I am now in such extreamitie, that it is impossible I should liue any long time, where­fore I humbly pray you to receiue mee into your company, and to comfort my poore soule, for that little time which it hath to remain in this vnhappy body. When the good olde man heard him speake with such affection, he sayde vnto him, I promise you my friend, it is ill done of you, who are a knight, yet young and of a comely stature, to fall into such desparie, seeing that women cannot continue their loue, but by presence of those whome they loue: for by nature they are quickly forgetfull, and light of beleefe, especially where a­ny thing is reported vnto them of such as haue fondly yeelded them-selues to them, who when they think to haue nothing but ioy and contentment, do finde themselues plunged in all sorrow and tribulati­on, as you now feele by experience. Wherefore I pray you henceforth to be more vertuous and constant: and seeing you are borne a Kings son, and likely to gouerne a King­dome, returne to the world, for it should be a great hurt to loose you in this sort: and I cannot presume what she might bee that brought you into this extreamitie, seeing that although shee were a woman so requisit as shee could not bee e­qualled, yet for her such a man as you are to be cast away. Father, an­swered Amadis, I aske not your counsell herein, for I now neede it not, but for my soules sake I de­sire you henceforth to receiue mee into your company, which if you refuse to do, I see no other reme­dy for me, but to die amongst the beasts of this forrest. The old man seeing him so resolute, had such compassion of him, as the teares fell down his long white beard, and answered him: Alas my son, my a­biding in a desert place, and I liue a life too strickt for you, my Her­mitage is at the least seuen leagues within the sea, vpon the top of a poore Rock: vnto the which no li­uing creature can come vnlesse it bee at the beginning of the spring time. Notwithstanding, I haue al­ready remained thirty yeeres there, exempted from all worldly plea­sure, liuing onely vpon such small almes, which some people of this Countrey doe bestow vpon me. I promise you father, saide Amadis, it is the life which I desire, and I once intreat you, that you would giue me leaue to go with you. The which the Hermit at the last gran­ted, notwithstanding, that he had a long time denied him. Heere-withall Amadis kissed his feete, saying: father command whatsoe­uer you shall please, for to my po­wer I will euer obay you. Then the Hermit saide his euening seruice, after the which (because hee had eaten nothing all day) hee tooke out of his wallet a little bread, and fish dried in the sun, which was gi­uen vnto him: and willed Amadis to eate with him, but he refused it, although he had beene three daies without tasting any sustenance. Wherefore the hermit saide vnto him: My sonne you haue promised to obey me, doe this then which I command you, and eat, for if you should die in this obstinacie, your soule should be in very great dan­ger. For this cause Amadis durst not denie him, but did eat a very little, for hee sighed continually, not being able to forget the great sorrow wherein he remained. Af­ter he had taken this small refrecti­on, [Page 32] the good old man spread his cloake abroad and laid him downe thereon, and Amadis at his feete, who was a great while before hee could take any rest, tumbling and tossing himselfe as a person ill at ease, neuerthelesse in the end, be­ing heauie with long watching, he fell asleepe: and hee dreamed that hee was locked in a chamber so darke, that he could see no light at all, neyther could he finde any way to come out thereof, wherewith he greatly lamented: moreouer hee thought that his Cozin Mabila and the Damosell of Denmarke came vnto him, hauing before them a beame of the Sun, which gaue a great light in so darke a place: they taking him by the hand said vnto him, My Lord, come forth from hence, if it please you, and follow vs into the palace, the which he did. But at his comming forth, he thought that he did see Oriana in­uironed with a great flame of fire, which made him so afraid, that hee cried out helpe, helpe, my Lady O­riana burneth: and there withall he leaped into the fire to saue her. Then he tooke her in his armes, comming through the flame a­gaine without any hurt at all: af­terwards hee carried her into a gar­den, the greenest and pleasantest that he had seene. At the lowde cry which Amadis did make, the good Hermit awaked, and taking him by the hand, hee asked him, what he ailed? Father, answered he, I haue euen now in my sleepe felt such exceeding paine, that I meruaile I am not dead. Your cry hath witnessed the same, said hee, but let vs rise, for it is time to de­part. Then he got vpon his Asse, and tooke the way toward the Her­mitage, and Amadis followed him a foote, talking together of many things, at the last he prayed him to giue him one gift, which should not bee hurtfull vnto him, the which the old man granted, I pray you then said Amadis, that so long as we are together, you would not tell any man who I am: and hence-forth to giue mee another name, such as it shall please you: then af­ter my death you may tell my bre­thren of me, that they may come fetch my body, and carry it into Gaule. Your life and death, an­swered the hermit, are in the hands of God, therefore speake no more thereof, for therein you offend him very grieuously: and therefore see­ing you know him, loue him, and serue him as you are bound to do, he wil succour and helpe you: not­withstanding what other name wil you haue? Such as it shall please you to giue me, said Amadis. And as they talked together, the olde man had his eye continually vp­on him, and the more he looked on him, the fayrer he thought him to be: but he did see him so full of griefe as he determined to giue him a name conformable to his ex­cellency, and agreeable to his me­lancholy. Whereupon he said vnto him: my Sonne you are yong and of a faire complexion, notwith­standing your life is obscure, by reason of your sorrow, therefore my will is that you bee called the Faire Forlorne. Wherewith Ama­dis was contented, liking very well of the Hermet his deuise, who not without great occasion had impo­sed that name vpon him. And e­uen as they were ouertaken with the night, they came vnto the Sea side, where they found a little boat which the day before was come to seeke the Hermet at his hermitage, wherin they imbarked, and within a small time after tooke landing at [Page 33] the poore Rock, so called because of the barrennesse of the place, as the old man had declared to him. Who continuing his discourse, said, Sonne I haue heretofore fol­lowed the world as you haue done, and my name was Andahod, assu­ring you that during my young yeeres, I studied many vaine scien­ces▪ but in the end being wearie thereof, I withdrew my selfe into this poore place, where I haue al­ready remained thirty yeeres and more, and neuer departed thence vntill yeesterday, that I was at the buriall of my sister, who died with­in these few dayes. When the Faire Forlorne came into this Solitary place, he was exceeding glad: ho­ping that in a very short time his sadnesse and his life would both end at once. Thus he remained in the company of the hermit, con­suming his youth with weeping and continuall lamentations, set­ing at naught all worldly honours, especially the glory which he had gotten in fighting with Galpan, A­bies King of Ireland, Dardan the proud, and many others whom he had ouercome, and he began to despise in himselfe all vanities, considering the variablenesse of Fortune. who not long before had so highly aduanced him, that hee had entred into the forbidden Chamber of Apolidon, as in the be­ginning of the History hath beene mentioned. But if he had beene demanded what moued him so to do, what would hee (thinke you) haue answered? no other thing (as I guesse) but that the displeasure of a weake woman, had brought him to this extremity: he would haue tried to colour his fault by the ex­amples of the strong and valiant Hercules, Sampson, the wise Salo­mon, Virgill, and an infinit num­ber of other great and vertuous personages which haue all faln in­to the like misery, being no more able to resist the same then he. And Amadis would haue thought their misfortunes sufficient to shaddow his miserie, and yet it is quite con­trary: for their example might haue warned him to haue shunned the like folly. Was it likely then that Fortune would bring him out of his calamity, he being thus o­uercome for so small a cause, and to bestow vpon him afterwards more fauours and victories then e­uer she had done before? me think­eth that she should not: neither yet had she done it, if those things by her executed against him, had not turned to the profit of the persons whom she would fauour, whose liues depended vpon Amadis his safety, whom she tormented in such sort, as it seemed she had more compassion vpon them, then care of him, as your selfe may iudge. Be­cause that Amadis being as it were brought vnto the period of his life, (when he least hoped of remedie) euen then was he restored vnto his former estate by such meanes, as shal be hereafter recited vnto you. But to the end that we stray not too farre from the order of our hi­story, you must first vnderstand that which happened to Gandalin after he awaked and found neither Amadis nor his horse: who rising vp in a fright, misdoubted that which was happened, and looked in all places thereabout, notwith­standing he could see nothing but Trees and Bushes. By meanes whereof he began to cry and call, yet no body answered him but the Eccho which resounded thorow the valley: whereby he knew well that Amadis was departed. For this cause he began to make a most [Page 34] sorrowfull lamentations, determi­ning to follow him, and to doe what he could to find him againe, which that he might the better ac­complish; hee returned where hee had left his horse, the which hee found, hauing neither saddle nor bridle vpon him, which made him almost beside himselfe. But as hee fretted and sought from one place to another, in the middest of the bushes hee espied the harnesse of his horse, which he sought, where­fore incontinently he sadled him, and mounted vpon him, gallop­ping through the forrest not knowing which way to take▪ and in this frensie he rode fiue daies to­gether without any stay at all, but at the side of the villages, where he onely taried to enquire after Ama­dis. Notwithstanding, he could heare no newes of him till the sixt day, that he entred into a meddow wherein was a fountaine, hard by the which Amadis had left his ar­mour. There he beheld a Pauillion set vp, and two Gentlewomen, vn­to whom hee came, asking them if they had seene a knight passe by, bearing in his shield two Lions sa­bles, in a field Or. Wee haue not seene the knight which you de­mand after, answered they, but we did finde his shield and the rest of his armour vpon the brinke of this fountaine. When Gandalin heard this, hee cryed out mainely, and bearing his haire, he said weeping, Ay me, is he dead. Alas what mis-fortune is hapned, the best knight in the world, is he lost? heerewith­all did hee encrease his laments so strangely, as both the Gentlewo­men had great compassion vpon his miserie: Alas my Lord, sayde hee, how badly haue I kept you: truely I am worthy to bee accoun­ted the most wicked esquire that liueth on the earth, hauing so lewd­ly forsaken you, and you who were wont to be the defence and refuge of all distressed persons, haue now nor coūcel nor cōfort of any liuing wight, no not of me caitife as I am, that through my great fault and sluggishnesse, haue left you in your greatest neede, euen when I ought best to haue serued you. No soner had he said these words, but that hee fell downe in a swound: which when the Gentlewomen behelde, they cryed: Alas this e­squire is dead, and therewithall they ran vnto him, but hee moued not in any sort. Neuerthelesse, they bestirred them so well, as they brought him againe to himselfe, & afterwards they sayd vnto him: my friend, you are to blame thus to de­spaire for a thing whereof you are yet vncertaine. It were more con­uenient for you to goe seeke your maister, seeing that the vertuous (as you ought to bee) do encrease their strength, euen when aduersi­tie most assaileth them. Gandalin knew that they sayde true, and for the same cause he determined (fol­lowing their counsell) to trauaile so long from place to place, vntill he had newes of Amadis. But I pray you Gentlewomen, answered hee, tell me where you haue found his armour? That will wee willingly, said they: Wee were of late in the company of Don Guillan the pen­siue, who within these few dayes past, deliuered vs from the prison of Gandinas the malicious, with more then twentie other Ladies and Gentlewomen, behauing him-selfe so valliantly, that he hath bro­ken the wicked custome of the Ca­stle, and constrained the Lord thereof to sweare, neuer more to maintaine the same. And because euerie one had liberty to goe whe­ther [Page 35] they would, my fellow and I haue followed him vnto this place, and wee haue already stayed here this foure daies, because that when we came hither first, Guillan knew the armour of him whom you en­quire after, which were left vpon the side of the fountaine. And I promise you that neuer knight was more sorrowful then he for as soon as he beheld them, hee alighted from his horse saying. Beleeue me this place is farre vnworthy to hold the shield of the best Knight in the world. Then did hee take it vp from the ground, and hanged it vp­on this Tree. Which done hee mounted againe vpon his horse, commanding vs expressely that we should keepe it vntill hee had found the Knight to whom it ap­pertained: And to that end we did set vp these Pauilions which you see. Notwithstanding after we had kept the same three whole dayes, he returned, and arriued but yesterday very late hauing no news of him at all, and very early this morning he commanded his Esquires to take the rest of his Ar­mour which were here found, and he tooke off his owne shield, to hang about his necke, the other which we did keepe. In the doing whereof he wept bitterly and said. Truly shield thou makest a bad ex­change of thy Master, for me: af­terwards he told vs that he went to the Court of king Lisuart to pre­sent those spoyles vnto Queene Brisena, being assured that shee would be no lesse sorrowfull then he, for the sad mischance, and wee likewise do follow after him, to thanke the Queene for the good which Guillan hath done for vs, for her sake, as he hath commanded vs to do. Then Gandalin bid them farewell, assuring them, that hee would finde him, vpon whom his death or life depended, or else hee would end his daies in the seeking of him.

CHAP. VII.

DVrin hauing left Patin in the forrest (as you haue heard) made such great hast to re­turne vnto Oriana, to let her know what he had seen of Amadis, as the tenth day following he arriued in the Citty of Lon­don. But so soone as Oriana per­ceiued him, her heart throbbed in such sort, as she was faine to goe into her chamber, & lay her down vpon her bed before shee would speake vnto Durin: and shortly af­ter shee commanded the Damosell of Denmarke to cause him to come in, and to see that while she talked with him no other should come where she was.

Then Durin beeing on his knees before her, shee said vnto him: Durin my friend, by the faith thou owest vnto mee, tell mee in what estate thou diddest finde A­madis, what was his counte­nance whilest hee red my Let­ter, and what thou thinkest of the Queene Briolania? Madam answe­red he, by my faith I wil tell you the very truth, although I am sure [Page 25] that vnto you and others it will seeme in a manner incredible. At my departure from hence (as it pleased you to command mee) I went without any stay, vnto the Citty of Sobradisa, where I found the Queene Briolania, who (in my opinion) next vnto you, is the fay­rest princesse of the world, and of the best grace. There I heard news that my Lord Amadis and his fel­lows were departed to returne vn­to this Court, but vpon the way they did meete with a Gentlewo­man, who carried them vnto the firme-Island to proue the strange aduentures thereof: whereupon in­continently I tooke my way thi­ther, and there I arriued euen as my Lord Amadis passed the Arch of Loyall-Louers, vnder the which none might passe that had in any sort falsified his first Loue. How? said she, hath he so rashly enter­prised such an aduenture, hauing his disloyalty so fresh before his eyes? I know not Madam answe­red Durin, how you beleeue it, but sure I am that it hapned better vnto him then you thinke for, see­ing that he hath gotten more ho­nour then euer any loyall Knight receiued, as many can witnesse by the signes which then appeared. And although at that instant Oria­na would haue seemed for to dis­semble the pleasure which she con­ceiued of these news, yet could she not so cunningly do the same, but that with extreame ioy her sudden blushing did increase her beautie, for the assurance shee had in the loyaltie of Amadis. But Durin con­tinuing his discourse, said vnto her Madam, he hath yet done greater things, for after hee had finished this so strange aduenture, he heard news that my Lords Galaor, Flore­stan and Agraies thinking to winne the forbidden Chamber, were so rudely repulsed from the marble Pillar, that their liues were in great perill, by meanes whereof my Lord Amadis desirous to reuenge their wrongs, with an inuincible cou­rage he passed through all the gar­ded places, and maugre all the in­chantments, hee entred into the Chamber, yet was it not without great danger and trauaile. Thus did he win the Signory of the firm Island, and al the inhabitants there-of haue already sworne vnto him homage, and fealty, according to the custome of the Country, which is one of the fairest and strongest places in the world. And I assure you Madame, that it is more then an hundred yeeres since any liuing creature hath passed the pillars, but onely my Lord Amadis: by whose force and strength we haue seene all the singular things and riches of the pallace of Apolidon, and the ad­uentrous Chamber, which is re­nowned thorow all the parts of the Earth. During this discourse of his, Oriana was almost rauished with the great ease, and pleasure that she conceiued in the hope that one day she should bee Lady and owner of such singuler things, to her owne and her louers con­tentment, and said vnto Durin. Truly Durin fortune hath beene very fauourable vnto him. Ah Ma­dame answered he, nay rather too rigorous, so as I would to God some other had carried him that vnhappy Letter which you writ, & I deliuered: how said Oriana, I pray thee tell me, what countenance he shewed in reading it? Madame I wil tel you since it pleaseth you, an­swered he, although I am sure that you will bee very sort when you shal vnderstand what consequence it turned vnto, and the mischiefe [Page 37] it brought vnto the best and faith­fullest knight in the world. In what sort, said she. You are the cause of his death, answered Durin. Out Al­as, said Oriana, what is it thou tel­lest mee? You haue forged the sword that hath wounded him to death, and I carried it to him, so as we are both his murtherers. Then declared hee the whole circum­stance and manner how he deliue­red the letter, and the despaire hee entred into after he had read it: so as, said Durin, he did shortly after that, secretly departe from the Pallace of Apolidon, with Gandalin, Isania the Gouernour of the Isle, and me, and we brought him vnto an hermitage, where hee charged vs steightly to follow him no fur­ther: then hee mounted on horse-back, and taking with him neither Helmet, Shield, nor Lance, he fled ouer a mountaine like vnto a mad man. Afterward hee rehersed vnto her all the talke which particular­ly he had vsed vnto them, in taking his leaue of them, and Durin made this discourse with so many teares, as it was very hard to iudge whe­ther hee or Oriana had the more sorrowfull heart. And know you Madame, saide hee, that after his departure (notwithstanding his command to the contrary) Ganda­lin and I followed him, and found him asleepe by the side of a foun­taine, yet his sleepe was not long: for suddainly hee awaked, and rai­sing himselfe vp, he began to make the greatest lamentation in the world, bewaling King Perion his father, then Mabila, and others his friends. All this while Gandalin and I had our selues for feare of his furie, by meanes whereof without any impeachment of vs, he passed the most part of the night in the like lamentations, vntill about the breake of day, that there chaunced a knight to come singing a song, which he had made for the loue of you, the which Durin recited vnto her, as also that which happened vnto Patin, which so ouer-char­ged the heart of Oriana, that she re­mained in a swound, looking like one that were dead. The which Du­rin fearing, he called the Princesse Mabila, and the Damosell of Den­marke, vnto whom he saide. Goe helpe my Lady, who is in a greate perplexitie for a thing which is now too late to be remedied: and if shee hath mis-done, the punish­ment is of due vnto her. Herewith­all he departed, leauing the women much amazed, for they knew not the cause of this inconuenience, much lesse how they might reme­the same: neuerthelesse, they vsed her in such sort, that shee came againe vnto her selfe, and casting forth a sigh, she saide with a feeble and low voice: Ah wicked woman that I am, whē with so great wrong I haue depriued him of life, whom in this world I most loued. And seeing it is out of my power now to reuoke that mischiefe, whereof I am the repentant causer, I be­seech you (friend) to take my la­ment in satisfaction of the hurt which I haue purchased vnto you, with the sacrifice which I shall make of mine owne life to follow you vnto the death: so the ingra­titude which I haue committed against your loyaltie, shall bee manifested, your selfe reuenged, and I punished. And as shee thought to haue proceeded fur­ther, her speech failed her againe, wherewith Mabila and the Gentle-woman were more abashed then before, so that they called Durin to know what heauie newes hee had brought vnto Oriana, who wholly [Page 38] declared it vnto them. Let me alone the said Mabila, for I know wel how to remedy this matter. Hereupon they vnlaced her, and bestirreth them so well, that she brought her to life againe: then Mabila de­manded of her how she did. Gen­tle friend (answered she) farre bet­ter then I desire: So as I rather desire death then life, for now I do nought else but languish. Where­fore Madame, said Mabila: do you thinke my Cosin so inconstant, that hee will not willingly excuse the iniurie that you haue done vn­to him, knowing that extreame loue rather then any other thing constrained you thereunto? And if he be gone, as Durin hath tolde you, it is but to passe away part of his melancholy, tarrying vntill his innocency bee knowne vnto you: But I am certaine, if it pleased you to call him back againe, that he is as ready to obey you as euer he was And behold what you shall doe: intreate him by a Letter, that hee take no regard vnto that which you did command him by Durin, and that which you did, was suddenly after a false report made vnto you of him: and therefore will him to come vnto you to Mireflure, where you stay for him to amend your fault at his discretion. Ah my Co­sin, answered Oriana, do you think that he will euer vouchsafe, either to respect me, or make one steppe for me? But do you thinke, saide Mabila, that the loue he beareth to you, is of so little force, that he will not bee farre more glad to re­couer your good fauour, then he hath beene sorry to be by you for­saken? I am verily assured, that to die he will not displease you. And to accomplish this matter well, it behoueth the Damosell of Den­marke to vndertake the charge to finde him out, because he know­eth her, and putteth his trust in her. Well, answered Oriana, I am con­tent to be aduised by you. So shee tooke paper and inke, and as they had determined she did write vnto Amadis, afterwards the Letter was giuen to the Damosel of Denmark, with expresse commandement to passe first into Scotland, thinking that he might be there with Gan­dales, rather thē in any other place. And the better to colour their en­terprise, they aduised the Damo­sell to tell the Queene, that Mabila sent her towards the Queene of Scotland her Mother, to vnderstand some news from her: With the which the Queen was well pleased, and gaue her a Letter and tokens to present vnto her. Thus was the Gentlewoman dispatched, who departed with Durin her brother, and Enil the Cosin of Gandales. And so long they rode till they came vnto a port towne called Ve­gill, which separateth great Brit­taine from the Realme of Scotland. There they tooke shipping, and they had the winde so faire, that the sixt day following they landed in the Citty of Poligez. Then tooke they their way toward the Knight Gandales, whom they met a hun­ting: but when he beheld the Da­mosell of Denmarke (knowing that she was a stranger) he stayed, en­quiring of her what she did seek in that Countrey. Your selfe answe­red she, towards whom, two Prin­cesses your friends haue comman­ded me to come, to present from them certain presents, which I car­ry vnto the Queene of Scotland. Gentlewomā said he, may it please you to tell me their names: yea wil­lingly sir said she, the one is my La­dy Oriana daughter to the mighty king Lisuart, & the other the Prin­cesse [Page 39] Mabila whom you know well enough. Ha said Gandales, you are most luckily here arriued: and they haue reason to accompt me their most humble seruant, for so I am, & I pray you most heartily to come and alight at my house, then tomorrow we will go together to see the Queene: in the meane while doe mee this pleasure, as to tell me how Amadis doth. The Gentle-woman was herewith much asto­nished, seeing that she had missed of her purpose: notwithstanding dissembling her sorrow, she answe­red Gandales: that he was not re­turned to the Court since he de­parted thence to reuenge Briolania: and it is thought that he is come into these parts with his cosin A­graies, to see the Scottish Queene his Aunt, and you also: for this cause the Queene and other Ladies of his kindred and deere friends, gaue me in charge to deli­uer him a Letter, which will be ve­ry welcome vnto him I am sure. And the Gentlewoman said thus much, because she knew certainly, that although Amadis would hide him frō (knowing that she brought him news from Oriana) others, yet hee would change his minde to speake with her. I would said Gan­dales that he were here, for I haue a long time greatly desired to see him. Thus talking together at the last they arriued at the Castle of Gandales, where hee feasted the Gentlewoman three dayes: and the fourth day following, hee condu­cted her vnto the Court, where she deliuered to the Scottish Queene the Letters and presents which the Queene Brisena had sent vnto her.

CHAP. VIII.

AFter that Don Guillan the Pensif was depar­ted from the Foun­taine where he found Amadis his Armour, he rode six daies before he ariued in the Court of King Lisuart. And he ordinarily carried the shield of Amadis about his necke, and neuer tooke it off, except when hee was constrained to fight: then he tooke his owne, fearing to deface the o­ther. And as he rode he met with two knights, Cosins to Arcalaus, who incontinently knew the shield of Amadis, and they thought Guil­lan to be he. Wherefore they (who hated him to the death) determi­ned to assaile him, and said one to another: euen now will we carrie the head of this villaine vnto our vncle Arcalaus. This they spake so lowd that Guillan heard it, where-with being throughly chafed he an­swered them. Palliards you reckon without your host, for neuer did traitor affright me, no more shall you, seeing I know you for kinse­men to Arcalaus, and as wicked as himself: then pulled he downe the visor of his Helmet, couched his launce and ran vpon them. Now they were yong and strong, so that they defended themselues stoutly: notwithstanding at the last they could not long resist him that had [Page 40] charged them. Who after hee had some smal time fought with them, thrust his sword in the throat of the eldest, and the other fled vp to­wards the top of the mountaine, who was not long pursued by Guil­lan, because hee was a little woun­ded, whereupon he let him go and followed on his way, along the which he rode so far, vntill he ar­riued at a Castle, belonging vnto a knight of his acquaintāce, where hee lodged for that night, beeing then very late. But the next day (as hee would haue departed from his lodging) his host seeing him with­out a Launce gaue him one, from thence hee rode so long, that hee came neere a riuer named Guinon, ouer the which there was a bridge no broder then for two horses to passe ouer afront. And approching more neere thereunto, he beheld a knight entering vpon the same, whose shield was vert, a bent Ar­gent. This he knew to bee his cosin Ladasin; and on the other side hee saw another knight ready to fight, who forbad Ladasin from passing ouer, except hee would breake a Lance with him, but Ladasin an­swered him, that he would not stay for so small a thing, and herewith­all couering him with his shield, he set spurres vnto his horse. As much did hee that kept the passage, who was mounted vpon a great bay courser, and did beare in his shield Argent a Lion Sables, and his hel­met all blacke. Their encounter was so strong, that Ladasin fell in­to the water, where without doubt he had beene drowned (as well for the weight of his armour, as also for the high of the place from whence he fell) if he had not taken holde of certaine willowes, by meanes whereof hee got vnto the banck side. In the meane season he that had ouer-throwne him retur­ned faire and softly from whence he was departed. Then Guillan see­ing his cosin in such danger, ranne speedily to helpe him, and caused him to be pulled vp by his squires, and afterwards he saide vnto him: trust me cosin without the helpe of these boughes you had beene in great danger, and therefore all strange knights should feare to iust vpon such bridges: for those which do keepe such passages▪ haue their horses no small time experimen­ced for the purpose, with whome (more then by their owne prow­esse) they gaine the honour and re­putation ouer a number of better knights then themselues are. And as for me, I would rather turne out of the way a dayes iourney, then put my selfe in such hazard, were it not to reuenge you if I can. Now the horse of Ladasin had not fol­lowed his maister, but was passed ouer to the other side of the riuer, and the knight of the bridge his e­squires were there ready to take him, who caried him into a plea­sant and strong tower, seated in the middest of the water. Wherefore Guillan tooke his shield, and cou­ched his Lance, he called vnto the knight of the bridge, that he should take heede of him, who ran against him, and they met together with a most strong encounter: neuerthe­lesse it fell out so well for Guillan, that he ouerthrew his enemy toge­ther with his horse into the riuer, and himselfe had sped little better, for he was vnhorsed as well as the other, if in falling his horse had not slipped by the one side of him, and he taken hold of certaine stakes, by the which he got vpon the bridge again, from whence he might per­ceiue the knight in the riuer, who hauing cought hold by the taile of [Page 41] the horse of Guillan, was brought to shoare on the one side, and his horse came to the other side, where the Squires of Ladasin were ready to take hold of him. Thus against their willes the two knights made exchange of their horses, and ther­fore Guillan sent vnto the knight to tel him, that if he would restore his horse and his fellowes, that they would send ouer his which their E­squires had taken, and then they would depart. What answered the knight vnto him that brought the message, thinke they to escape so lightly from my hands? yea truely said the other, for they haue done as much as the custome of the pas­sage requireth. Not yet answered the knight, because wee were both ouerthrowne: and therefore they must win the bridge by the sword, if they will passe ouer. Will you then said the other, compell them to fight? I thinke you should be sa­tisfied with this iniurie which al­ready you haue done vnto them, seeing that all bridges ought to be free for euery passenger. I care not answered the knight, go tell them, they must feele (will they nil they) how my sword cutteth: then hee leaped vpon his horse most lightly without any helpe of his stirrop, afterwards comming neere vnto Guillā, he said vnto him very fierce­ly and boldly: knight your embas­sadour hath beene ouer tedious in deliuering his message, but before you escape me, you must of force tell me, whether you be any of the subiects to a king called Lisuart, or any of his houshould. Wherefore? answered Guillan, I would it were my luck, said the other, to haue him no [...] your steede, for by my head he should not raigne one day lon­ger. When Guillan heard him say so, none could be more angry then he was, & therefore answered him: in good faith knight, if king Lisuart my Lord were in my roome, I am very sure, that he would easily make thee acknowledge this thy great presumption: but since he is absent, and that I know the hurt that thou wouldst doe vnto him, I haue a greater desire to fight against thee, then euer I had against any other knight. And if I can (being his sub­iect, and a knight of his house) I will chastise thee in such sort, that so good a Prince shall be hence-forth free from all thy malice. I doe not beleeue that said the other: for before it be noone, I will make thee glad to carry a message vnto him notwithstanding before thou re­ceiuest thy desert, my will is, thou shalt know both who I am, and what presents I will send vnto him by thee, Guillan was very much dis­pleased with the knights words, & hardly would he haue deferred the combat so long, had it not beene that hee promised to tell him his name, wherefore he stayed a while to heare what he would say. Know thou then said the Knight, that I am Gandalod sonne to Barsinan, late Lord of Sansuega, whom King Lis­uart most treacherously did put to death in the Citty of London. The presents which I will send vnto him by thee, shall be the heads of foure knights of his Court whom I keep pisoners (and one of them is Gion­tes his nephew) together with thy right hand also, which I will hang about thy necke, after I haue sepa­rated it from thy arme. Vild traitor answered Guillan, if thou canst per­forme that thou braggest of, it were a great deale, but I beleeue thou shalt proue thy selfe a lier, and so saying h [...]e strooke at him. Then there began between them a sharpe and cruell Combat: For [Page 42] withoot any breathing, they laid at each other so fiercely, that Ladasin and his esquires who were present, did not thinke that any of them could escape the death. Neuerthe­lesse, they behaued themselues so valiantly, that one could not iudge who had the best: for they were expert knights, hardy, and exerci­sed in armes, so that knowing how to defend themselues, few blowes could hurt them to the quicke. Now when their battaile was at the hottest, they heard the winding of a horne from the top of the tower, wherewithall Guillan was abashed. thinking it to be some new supply come to his enemy▪ and on the o­ther side, Gandalod suspected it to bee some reuolt of the captiues which he had in his prisons. And therefore either of them did their best to vanquish his enemy▪ before the succours should come: so that suddainnly Gandalod rushed vpon Guillan thinking to vnhorse him, but Guillan embraced him so hard, that they both fell to the ground tumbling one ouer another, yet holding their swords fast in their hands, but it happened so well for Guillan, that he had his enemy vn­der him. By meanes whereof, be­fore the other could rise, hee gaue him fiue or six great blowes with his sword, which in such sort a­mazed him, that from thenceforth he waxed more feeble. Notwith­standing, getting vp vpon his feet, hee both well defended himselfe, and better assailed his aduersary, giuing sufficient knowledge of the little good will he wished vnto his enemy: who so sorely oppres­sed vpon him, that hee was con­strained to recoile and turne his back. Therefore Guillan marking where he was worst armed, did hit him such a blow with his sword vpon the arme, that hee quite par­ted it from his shoulder. So as with the extreame griefe thereof he cast forth a loude crie, flying towards the tower: but Guillan o­uertooke him, and laide so fast holde vpon his helmet, that hee pulled it from his head. Then set­ting his sword to his throat, hee saide vnto him. Beleeue mee Sir, you shall now goe to the king to present him with other heads then you determined, but if you will not obey me, your owne shall sa­tisfie me. Alas, answered Ganda­lod, I had rather yeelde my selfe to the mercy of the King, then to die presently. Whereupon after hee had giuen his faith vnto Guillan, they mounted on horseback, and Ladasin with them. At that instant, they heard a great tumult within the tower, and beheld one of the warders running away, whome they staied to know what the mat­ter was: who told them that the prisoners had found the meanes to vnbinde themselues, and to come forth of the dungeon where­in they were kept, afterwards how they were armed, and had already slaine the most part of his fellowes. Hee had no sooner ended his speech, when hee behelde some of those, which he spake of, ouer the gate of the tower, and three or foure others which pursued a knight, and seuen halberders, that fled towards a wood hard by, and when those which had gained their liberty, perceiued Guillan and La­dasin, they cryed vnto them that they should kill those tratours that had scaped frō them, Where­fore Guillan & his cosin ran before and slew foure of them: the rest sa­ued thēselues with their lightnes, excepting onely the knight who was taken. Then came the pri­soners [Page 43] to salute Guillan, whom they all knew, & after some talke which they had together, Guillan said vn­to them: my Lords, I cannot tarry long with you, for I am constrai­ned to goe forthwith to King Lis­uart, but my cosin Ladasin shal bear you company vntill you haue re­freshed you, and afterwards I pray you to come vnto the Court, & to bring with you these two knights, whom I deliuer into your keeping, vntill king Lisuart haue taken such order for them, as to his Maiestie shall seeme best: and let one of you remaine here for the guard of this place, vntil I haue otherwise proui­ded for it. The which they promi­sed him to performe, thus taking leaue of them hee tooke his shield from his neck, and gaue it vnto his esquires, and taking the shield of Amadis (as he was accustomed) the teares stood in his eyes. Where-withal the others being much aba­shed, demanded of him, what moo­ued him thus to take his shield frō his neck, and place another in steed thereof with so great sorrow. Ah, answered he, this shield belongeth to the best knight in the world, thē he rehersed vnto them the manner how hee had found it, with the rest of the armor of Amadis, whom he had since searched for through all the countrey, without hearing any newes of him: wherewithall euery one of them were very sorry, fea­ring least some great mis-fortune had happened him. Thus Guillan followed on his way, and rode so long that (without any further trouble) hee ariued in the Court of king Lisuart: where it was already known how Amadis had ended the aduentures of the Firme-Island, & gained the signorie thereof: in like sorte how hee was departed from thence secretly, in great anguish. Neuerthelesse they knew nothing of the cause thereof, except those whom I before haue tolde you of. Thus Guillan entred into the hall, hauing about his neck the shield of Amadis, who was presently known of all the assembly, wherefore they flocked about him to heare what he would say, but the king was for-most, who demanded what newes hee had of Amadis. It may please your maiestie, answered Guillan, I knowe none: neuerthelesse, if it please you I will before the Queen recite how I did finde his armour, sword, and his shield which heere you may see. Truely said the king, I am very well pleased, for since hee was her knight, it is reason that she first know what is become of him. Saying so hee tooke Guillan by the hand, & led him where the Queen was. Then Guillan kneeling down, said vnto her weeping. Madame, not many daies since I found al the armour of Amadis, with his shield left all alone hard by a fountaine, which is called the fountain of the plaine fielde: wherewithall I was so sorrowful, that euen at the same in­stant I fastned the shield vpon a tree, leauing in it the keeping of two Gentlewomen, that were in my company, vntil that I had gone through the countrey, to enquire where hee was become. But I was neither so fortunate to finde him, nor so happy to heare any newes of him, wherefore knowing the di­sert of so good a knight, who had neuer any desire, but to im­ploy himselfe to doe you seruice, I determined seeing I could not bring him to you, to bring you his armes, as witnesse of the duty which I doe owe both to your Maiestie, and also to him: the which you may command (if you please) to bee set in an open [Page 44] place, where euery one may see them, as well to heare news of him, by such strangers as ordinarily re­paire vnto his Court, as also to en­courage all such as follow armes, to take example by him that was owner of them: who by his high knight-hood, hath gained the chie­fest reputation amongst all those that euer buckled cuirasse on their backs. When the Queene vnder­stood such news of Amadis, neuer was any Lady more sorrowful, and answered Guillan: It is great pitty for the losse of so good a Knight: for I am sure that many at this day do liue, which will be sorry for his losse: and I giue you most hearty thankes for that which you haue done for him and me together: as­suring you, that those which will put themselus forward to find him shall giue me and all other Ladies cause to wish them wel for his sake, which was so much at their com­mandement. But if the Queene for these newes was any whit sorry, the king and those of his company were no lesse sad: yet was it no­thing to the griefe which Oriana sustained. For if before she was vexed for the great fault which she had committed, at that instant her paine redoubled with so great a melancholy, that it was impossible for her to stay there any longer, but she withdrew her selfe into her chamber. And casting her downe vpon her bed she began to cry: Ah wicked woman that I am, I may now well say, that all the felicity that euer I had is but a plaine dreame, and my torment is a very certaine truth, seeing that if I re­ceiue any contentment, It is onely by the dreames which do nightly solicit me, for when I awake all froward Fortune afflicteth my poore spirit, so as if the day be vn­to me a grieuous martyrdome, the darkenesse only bringeth me plea­sure and comfort, because in my sleepe I thinke that I am before my sweete friend, but being awake and quite depriued of that great ioy, maketh me too much to feele his absence. Ah my eyes, no more eies but floods of teares, you are much abused, seeing that being shut you onely behold him that contenteth you: and no sooner opened, but all the torment in the world commeth at once to blinde them: at the least this death which I feele so neere at hand shall deliuer me from this care: and you sweete friend shall be reuenged of the most ingrate­full woman that euer was borne. Then like a furious woman shee rose vp, determining to throw her selfe headlong from the window downe to the ground: but Mabila who had followed her preuenting such an inconuenience stayed her, setting before her the infamy which she might get, if it were but known that she were so minded: and more-ouer she did assure her that Amadis would shortly returne, saying vnto her: How now Madam? where is the constancy of a Kings daughter, and that wisedome for which you are so much renowned? Haue you already forgotten the mischiefe that was likely to haue happened vnto you, by meanes of the false newes that Arcalaus brought vnto the Court this last yeare? And now because Guillan hath found my Cosins armes, is it therefore likely that he should be dead? Be­leeue me, you shall see him againe shortly, & he wil come vnto you so soone as hee hath seene your Let­ters.

This Counsell was authorised with such perswasine reasons, that Oriana apeased part of her tormēt: [Page 46] But yet these newes so greately troubled her minde, that had it not beene for the wisedome of Mabila (who often times perswa­ded her to be quiet) there had hap­pened a merueilous incōnenience: but in the end shee knew so well how to preuaile with her, that she resolued vpon this, that the Gen­tlewoman of Denmark would bring him againe. And as they were in these tearmes, one came to tell them that the knights and Gentle-women which Guillan had deliue­red from prison were arriued, wherefore Mabila seeking to with-draw Oriana from fancies, brought her where the Queene was, vnto whom the two Gentlewomen (that had kept the shield of Amadis) re­cited the lamentation which they had seene an Esquire make, when he knew the Armour and Shielde that Guillan had found vpon the side of the Fountaine of the plaine field. The King was likewise pre­sent in whose eyes stood a floud of Teares, thinking assuredly that Amadis was dead. Then Ladasin and his fellows were seene to come in, who brought with them Gan­dalod prisoner, together with the other knight, whom they presen­ted vnto the king on the behalfe of Guillan, declaring vnto him both the manner of the Combat, the talke that passed betweene Ganda­lod and Guillan, and also how that during their incounter, the knights that were in the deepe dungeon of his tower had found the meanes to deliuer themselues. Is this true said he to Gandalod, I caused not long since thy father to be burned in this citty, for his great treason, and thou shalt likewise be there hanged with thy companion, because thou hadst conspired my death. Then forthwith he commanded them to bee hanged ouer the Citty wales right ouer against the place where Barsinan was burned as it hath been recited vnto you.

CHAP. IX.

ONe day the Faire For­lorne being set hard by the Hermit, neere vnto the dore of their little house, the olde man said vnto him: I pray you my son, tel me the dream that you had, when you awaked on a suddaine sleeping hard by me neere vnto the Fountaine of the plaine field. True­ly father answered he, I will wil­lingly tell it you, and I most hum­bly beseech you likewise to let mee vnderstand, be it for good, or bad, what you thinke thereof. Afterwards hee recited the dreame in such sort as you haue heard, kee­ping onely the names of the Gen­tlewomen secret.

Then the Hermet remained a good while pensiue, when he be­holding the Faire Forlorne, he be­gan to smile, and said vnto him: My child, I assure you, that you haue now more cause to reioyce then euer you had: but yet I would haue you know how I vnderstand it. The darke chamber in the which you thought your selfe to be, out of which you were not able to comforth, [Page 46] signifieth this great tribula­tion wherein you now are. The Gentlewomen which afterwardes opened the doore vnto you, are some of your friends that continu­ally solicit your cause vnto the La­dy whom you so feruently loue, with whom they haue so much preuailed, that they shall withdraw you from this place. The Sunne­beame which went before them, are Letters of reconciliation that she sendeth vnto you: by meanes whereof you shall leaue me. The fire that inuironed this lady, shew­eth the great loue, together with the sad laments that she maketh for your absence, as well as you doe for hers. And by the faire garden whereunto you did beare her, drawing her forth of the flame, sig­nifieth the great pleasure which you shall both haue at your mee­ting. Truely my Son, I know that seeing the habit and estate where­unto I am called, such speeches as these become me not at all: neuer­thelesse knowing that it is for your good, I am sure that I doe not a­misse in this counselling a person so comfortlesse as you are. Here-with all the Faire Forlorne fell vpon the ground to kisse his feete, reioy­sing that he had happened into the company of a person so holy, that knew how to comfort him so well in his aduersity, desiring very hear­tily, that whatsoeuer the holy man had told him, might so come to passe, and he said vnto the Hermit, my Father seeing it hath pleased you to do me so much good, as to expound this dreame, I pray you likewise to tell me the meaning of one other, which I dreamed the night before I came from the firm-Island.

Then did hee recite it word by word vnto him. Whereupon the aged man answered him. My son, by this you may plainely see that which already is happened vn­to you, for I assure you that the place ouer shaddowed with trees, where you thought that you were, & the great nūber of people which at the first made such great ioy a­bout you signifieth the firm Island which you haue conquered, to the great pleasure of al the inhabitants thereof. But the man which came vnto you with a boxe full of bitter­nes, is the messenger of the Lady that gaue you the letter: and your selfe doth know better then any o­ther, whether he brought you bit­ternesse or no, by the discourse which he had with you. The sorrow which afterwards you did behold in the persons which before were so ioyfull, are they of the Isle, who at this present are very heauy for your absence. The apparell which you threw off, are the teares which you haue shed. The stony place wherin you entred inuironed with water, this rock witnesseth to you what it is. The religious mā that did speake vnto you in an vnknown lā ­guage, is my selfe, who do instruct you in holy writ, which you neither vnderstand, nor can comprehend. Father answered the Fair-Forlorn. I know verily that you say the truth which giueth me great hope of that which you haue declared of the o­ther: but the continuall griefe and melancholie wherein I liue, hath already ouer-mastered mee, that I beleeue if the good which you promise vnto me do not the sooner case my care, death will first seize vpon my sorrowfull corps.

Notwithstanding the Hermit knew how to perswade him so wel, that from thenceforth he shewed a little merrier countenance then before he had done, and began to [Page 47] turne his sorrow to some solace, v­sing to angle for fish with two Ne­phwes of the olde man, that kept him company. Neuerthelesse, the most part of the time he with-drew himselfe into a secret place hard by the sea side, which was ouer-shadowed with diuerse sorts of trees: and there oftentimes he cast his sight vnto the Firme-Island, which put him in remembrance of those fauours whereunto for­tune had called him, & the wrong that Oriana did vnto him, hee ha­uing neuer offended. Alas, saide he, haue I deserued this entertain­ment to be banished, without ha­uing offended so much as in thought? Truely deere friend, if my death were agrieable vnto you, you haue meane enough to giue it me more speedily, without ma­king mee thus to liue in langui­shing. The onely deniall of your good grace, the very first day that you accepted me for your knight, had beene sufficient at that time to haue made me die a thousand deathes. Many other lamentations did the Faire Forlorne euery day make, in this solitary place, where­in he tooke so great pleasure, that oftentimes hee there passed away both the day and the night: so as one time finding himselfe more frollick in his minde, then of a long time he had beene, hee made this song following.

Thus the Faire Forlorne passed away the time, waiting vntill fate or better fortune should bring him forth of this miserie. But it happened that one night lying vn­der the trees (as hee was accusto­med) about the breake of day hee heard very nigh him the sound of a most sweete instrument, wherein he tooke so great pleasure, that he gaue attentiue eare thereunto a good while, amazed notwithstan­ding from whence it might pro­ceede. Knowing the place to bee solitary that no other there remai­ned but the hermit, his two Ne­phewes, and himselfe: wherefore he rose vp, without making any noyse at all, and approched more neere to see what it might be. Then he beheld two young Gentlewo­men sitting by a fountaine, who (tu­ning their voyses to the sound of a lute) did sing a most pleasant song: neuerthelesse fearing to trouble their mirth, hee stood still a great while without being by them per­ceiued. Afterwards he came forth and disclosed himselfe, saying vnto them: Truely Gentlewomen your musicke hath made me this day to loose Matins, for the which I am very sorry. When these women heard him speake (hauing not seen him at all vntill that time) they were much afraide. Norwithstan­ding, one of them more bold then her fellow, answered him: My friend, we did not thinke to offend you with this our mirth, but seeing we haue so luckily found you, tell vs (if it please you) who you are, and how this desert place is called. In truth faire Gentlewomen, saide the Faire Forlorne, this place is cal­led the poore Rock: wherein there liueth an Hermit, vpon the top thereof in his little hermitage. As for me, I am a poore man that keep him company, doing great and hard penance for the sin and wic­kednesse which I haue commit­ted. Gentle friend, answered they, [Page 48] may we finde in this place (for two or three dayes onely) any house wherein we may place at ease a La­dy both rich & mighty, so tormen­ted with loue, that she is euen at deaths dore therewith. Trust me said he, there is no other lodging in this Rock, but the little cabinet wherein the Hermit doth lie, and one other that I do sleepe in some-time: but if the Hermit will lend you mine, I am content (to do you a pleasure) to lie in the meane time abroad in the fields, as I common­ly vse to do. The Gentlewoman gaue him hearty thankes, and bid­ding him good morrow they de­parted towards a Pauilion: within the which the Faire Forlorne beheld a most beautifull Lady vpon a bed. Wherupon he knew that the same was shee of whom they told him. But looking farder off, he did see foure armed men walking by the Sea side, who scouted abroad, whi­lest fiue others did take their rest, and he also perceiued a shippe at Anchor well appointed. The Sun was already vp, when he heard the Hermitage bell to ring, which made him go vp thither. Where he found the Hermit making him rea­dy to goe to seruice: vnto whom he tolde that there were people newly arriued in the Rock, and that if it were his pleasure, hee would willingly goe call them to heare Mattins. Goe then answered the Hermit, and I will stay for them. And as he went downe the Rocke, he met the Lady, whom the knights carried toward the hermitage: wherefore he returned, to helpe to make ready the Hermit, who see­ing the Lady was come, began ser­uice. Then the Faire Forlorne being amongst the women, began to re­member the time when he was in the Court of king Lisuart, and of the pleasure hee was wont o haue with the Princesse Oriana, there-withall he began to weepe so bit­terly, that the Gentlewomen per­ceiued it, and did very much won­der thereat. Notwithstanding they thought that it was for the contri­tion of his sinnes, and seeing him young, fayre, and comely, they could not thinke what to presume thereof. When the Hermit had made an end of seruice, they came to salute him, praying him for Gods sake, to lend them some lit­tle chamber for their Lady (who was wearie of the Sea, and ex­treamely sicke) wherein she might take her rest, for a day or twaine. In truth faire Ladies, answered he, there are here no more then two small Cabinets, in one of them I remaine (and if I can so long as I liue, neuer woman shall come ther­in) and the other is for this poore man, which doth such great pe­nance, wherein sometimes he slee­peth, and I would be very sory that he should bee put out thereof a­gainst his will. Father said the Fare Forlorne, do not let for me to doe them a pleasure, for I am very well content for this time to haue no o­ther lodging then vnder the Trees. Well said the hermit, let it be so a Gods name. Then the Faire For­lorne conducted them vnto his Ca­binet, where the Gentlewomen set vp a rich bed for their Mistresse, who was forthwith carried thither. And because it was told the Faire Forlorne that her sicknesse procee­ded of extreame loue, he tooke more heede to her behauiour then to any of the rest: and he perceiued that her eyes were still full of Teares, and her sighs were at com­mandement: Wherefore hee drew the two Gentlewomen a­part, whom in the morning hee [Page 49] had found playing on the Lute, & earnestly entreated them to tell the occasion of the great sicknesse that their Mistresse sustained. Friend an­swered they, if you marke her well you shall find that she is very faire, although that now her disease hath abated a great part of her beauty: for shee hath neither comfort nor ioy by reason of the absence of a knight that shee goeth to seeke in the house of King Lisuart, whom she so feruently loueth, that if short time doe not graunt some ease to her passion, it is impossible that her life should continue long. When the Faire Forlorn heard king Lisuart named, hee could not re­fraine from teares, and hee had a greater de [...]ire then before, to know the name of the knight that she lo­ued: therefore he requested them very earnestly to tell him his name, in good sooth answered the Gen­tlewoman, hardly may you knowe him: for hee is not of this coun­trey: yet is hee esteemed the best knight in the world, next vnto two other of his kin. Alas my faire gen­tlewoman sayd hee, for Gods sake name him vnto me, and the two o­ther whom you so much extoll. Truely answered they, we are con­tented, vpon this condition, that first when wee haue done, you doe tell vs whether you bee a knight or not, and afterward your name. I am content therewith, sayde the Faire Forlorne, so great is my de­sire to knowe that which I demand of you. Then one of them sayd vnto him: the knight which this Lady loueth, is called Don Flore­stan, brother to the good Knight Amadis of Gaule, and to Don Galaor, and hee is the sonne of King Perion of Gaule, and of the Countesse of Salandria. You say true answered hee, and I verily beleeue that you cannot say so much good of him as hee deserueth. What? sayde the Gentlewomen, doe you know him then? It is not long sayd he, since I did see him in the house of Queen Briolania, for whom his brother A­madis, and his Cosen Agraies did fight against Abiseas and his two sonnes, and thither hee with his brother Galaor arriued some fewe dayes after the combate: and I thinke him to be one of the fairest knights in the worlde. As concer­ning his prowesse, I haue many times heard Don Galaor himselfe speake thereof, who fought a com­bate with him as hee sayde. This combate sayde shee, was the cause that hee left my Lady in the selfe same place, where they first knew one another. I thinke then answe­red the Faire Forlorne, that shee is called Corisanda. You say true sayd the Gentlewomen. In truth answered he, I am no lesse sory for her sicknesse then before, for I knowe Florestan to bee so wise, and of so good behauiour, that I am sure hee will doe all that which she shall cōmand him. God grant it sayd shee, but seeing wee haue satisfied you, acquite you of your promise and tell vs who you are. Gentlewoman answered the Faire Forlorne, I am a knight who haue heretofore had more pleasure in the vanities of the worlde then now I haue, for the which I heere abide sharpe penance, my name is the Faire Forlorne. By my truth said one of them, you haue taken a good course, if you are able there­in to continue. And because there is no reason now to leaue our Mi­stresse all alone in this her great melancholy, wee bid you farewell, and doe goe vnto her to passe away the time with such musicke as you did heare this morning.

[Page 50] Then the Faire Forlorne depar­ted, but hee was presently called backe againe, for as soone as the gentlewomen had played two or three songs, they rehearsed vn­to Corisanda all that hee had saide of Florestan, and that the poore man which did penance, had seen him not many dayes before. Wherefore she sent to pray him to come vnto her, and in the meane while shee sayde vnto her women: assure you this Hermit that know­eth Florestan, must needs be some great personage disguised. At the same instant the Faire Forlorne was come, and she sayd vnto him: my friend, my women tell me that you know Don Florestan, and that you doe very well loue him, I pray you (by the holy order that you pro­fesse) to tell me what acquaintance you haue had with him, and where you did last see him. Then the Faire Forlorne told her more of him then hee had tolde vnto the Gentlewo­men, and how hee knew very well, that he and his brethren, with their Cosen Agraies, had beene in the Firme-Island: for he had there left them, and neuer since had seene them. Ah sayd she, I beleeue that you are something a kinne vnto him, seeing the great good you re­port of him. Madame, answe­red the Faire Forlorne, I loue him intirely, as well for his valour, as also for that his father made me knight, which maketh me the more bounden vnto his children: and I am very sory for the newes that I haue hard of Amadis before I did come vnto this desert. What are they sayd Corisanda. Truely answe­red hee, comming hither I met with a Gentlewoman at the entry of a Forrest which sung a pleasant song for the tune, but very pittifull by reason of the matter that it con­tayned. Then I enquired of her who made it, and shee answered me, that it was a knight, vnto whō God (if it bee his pleasure) send more ioy then hee had when hee made it, for his song doth very wel witnesse, that his griefe proceeded from too extreame loue. And be­cause I liked it wel, I remained with the Gentlewoman so long vntill I had learned it: moreouer she did assure me that Amadis did make it, and that he did shew her the song at that time when by his melan­choly hee was most maistered. I pray you sayde Corisanda, teach it vnto these two Gentlewomen, for by that which you say, loue held him then in as great bondage as he now holdeth me. I will doe it an­swered hee, both for the honour of him and also of you, althought it be a thing farre vnseemely for me to do. Herewithall he withdrew the Gentlewomen a part, and taught them the song with the tune there-of, wherein they tooke great plea­sure, because the Faire Forlorne did sing it with a lamentable and soft voyce, which yeelded more har­mony and aptnesse, both to the tune and the matter, then he could if hee had beene at more liberty in body and minde: and the Gentle-women learned it so cunningly, that many times after they did sing it before their Mistris, who tarried foure dayes in the poore Rocke, & the fift shee embarqued. But be­fore she departed, shee demanded of the Faire forlorne, whether hee would remaine any long time in that place. Madame, answered he, nothing but my death shall drawe me from hence. I doe much mar­uaile sayde Corisanda, what moo­ueth you to doe so: yet seeing that you are in such a minde, I will in no sorte disswade yon from it: [Page 51] so saying, she entred into her ship with her companie, bidding the Hermit farewel. Then setting saile, the winde was so fauourable, that in fewe dayes after they landed in Great Brittaine, and arriued in the Citie of London, where at that time King Lisuart remayned. Who knowing of her arriuall, hee toge­ther with his Queene receiued her royally. The King to honour her the more, caused her to bee lodged in his owne Pallace. And some few dayes after, as they were dis­coursing together, the Queen sayd vnto her, Good Cosen, the King charged mee to tell you, that hee t [...] [...]our comming hither to see [...]im [...]o th [...]nkefully, that if you haue any thing to doe with him, he will imploy his best meanes to pleasure you. Madame, answered Corisan­da. I giue the King most humble t [...]kes, and your grace also: there is nothing that importuneth mee more, then the absence of Don Flo­restan, whom I thought to haue found in this Court. Cosen sayde the Queene, wee haue at this time no other newes, of him, but that hee is gone in search of his brother Amadis, who of late is lost, we not knowing the cause thereof. Then shee tolde her how hee had wonne the Firme Island, and that after-wardes hee departed secretly from his fellowes: especially the man­ner how Don Guillan did finde his armour, and what diligence hee had vsed to vnderstand what was become of him. When Corisanda did see that shee was frustrate of her intention, and vnderstood the losse of Amadis, the teares stood in her eyes, saying: Alas what wil be­come of my Lord and friend Flore­stan, I am sure (considering the loue that he beareth vnto his bro­ther) that if hee cannot finde him, he will lose himselfe, so that I shall neuer while I liue see him any more: the Queene comforted her so well, that shee receiued some hope to heare news from him very shortly. Now Oriana was by, who had heard all this talke, and the loue that Corisanda did beare vnto Don Florestan, brother to Amadis: for which cause shee had the more desire to doe her honour, so as she and Mabila did ordinarily keepe her company, taking great plea­sure to heare her recite the loue that passed betwixt her and hee friend, the cause of their parting, and the trauell which afterwardes shee had endured in hope to finde him. And as shee made this dis­course, she remembred her of the time when shee remayned in the poore Rocke, where shee found a knight doing penance, who during her abode there, taught a song vn­to her women: which Amadis had made being in great melancholy, as the companion of the Hermit had assured her. Madame answe­red Mabila, I pray you feeing your Gentlewomen haue learned it, cō ­maund them to sing it before my Lady Oriana: for I shall bee very glad to heare it, seeing it is made by Amadis, who is mine owne Co­sen. Beleeue mee sayd Corisanda, I am very well content, assuring you that it cānot better please you then it will delight me, because of the neernesse of the linage that is betwixt my Lord Florestan & him. Then shee sent for the Gentlewo­mens Lutes, who played and did sing the song of Amadis so sweete­ly, that it ministred both mirth & mone vnto the Ladies which vnto them listened: ioy to the eare, cō ­tent for the melody, and griefe to the minde, in feeling his passion, that was so grieuously pained. But [Page 52] Oriana whom it most of all touch­ed, tooke more heede vnto the matter then the musicke, knowing the mischiefe whereof she was cause, and the great reason that A­madis had to complaine. Where-upon shee was suddenly stricken w [...] so great sorrow, that she went into a wardroabe, ashamed for the te [...]e [...] that had issued from her eyes i [...] good a company, from which she could not absta [...] Not­withstanding as shee withdrew her selfe, Mabila (to couer this fault) sayd vnto Corisan [...]a So farre a [...] I perceiue, Oriana is not well, where­fore I am cōstrained to leaue your company at this t [...]e, and to goe helpe her▪ neuerthelesse, if it plea­sed you, I would willingly knowe what was the behauior of him that taught your Gentlewomen the song, and wherefore he remayned in the poore Rocke: for no doubt hee did then knowe what was be­come of Amadis. Then Corisanda rehearsed vnto her in what sorte they did finde him, and the talke he had with her: but sayd shee, I did neuer see a man more pensiue, not more faire, considering the mise­ries he endured. Mabila very sud­denly began to suspect that it was Amadis himselfe, who being so far from all hope, had chosen such a solitary place, because hee would not be seene of any liuing wight, and at the same instant shee depar­ted towardes Oriana, whom shee found weeping bitterly. Vnto wh [...] (with a smiling countenance) shee sayd. Madame, in seeking after newes, sometimes one learneth more then hee thinketh vpon, wit­nesse this which I haue vnderstood of Corisanda. The knight so sad, that is named the Faire Forlorne, in the poore Rocke, is Amadis and no other, who desirous to obey your commandement hath in such sort withdrawne himselfe, because hee would neither be seene of you, nor of any other person▪ therefore I pray you reioyce, for you shall shortly drawe him hither againe. Alas answered Oriana may it bee possible? I would I might bee so fortunate to [...]brace him in my armes before I die and beleeue [...] [...]o [...]en sayd she to Mabila, tha [...] [...] I may once againe haue him. [...] giue him such an occasion [...] d [...] me▪ that he shall forget all [...] wrong which I haue done vnto him. But then very suddenly like a person doubtfull and fearefull to lose that which she loued, shee be­gan to make a greater lamentation then before, crying: Ah my Co [...]en, haue pittie vpon mee, I am in worse case then if I were dead, vn­fortunate woman as I am: I haue iustly lost by my folly, him vpon whom my good, my ioy, and my life doth wholy depend. How now Madame, sayd Mabila, euen when most hope is presented [...]nto you doe you then [...]ost torment yo [...] selfe▪ Assure you vpon nvfaith of the Gentlewoman of Denmarke do not bring you newes of him, that I will finde the meanes to supply her want: being sure, that it is he which nameth himselfe the [...]a [...]re [...]rlorne, and no other, and repose you vpon me herein.

CHAP. X.

TEn whole dayes did the Damosell of Den­marke remaine with the Queene of Scot­land, not so much for her pleasure, nor for to rest herselfe from the stormes of the Sea, as for the desire shee had to learne some newes of Amadis, in the countrey wherein shee thought assuredly to finde him: being assured that if she should returne vnto her Mistresse, without bringing her some newes, that she could not afterwards liue one houre, knowing in what an­guish she had left her. Neuerthe­lesse, not being able at that instant to take any better course in her af­faires, after she had vsed all the di­ligence therein that possibly shee could, shee determined to returne into Great Brittaine, so sorrowfull as might be. Then shee caused a ship to be ready, wherein shee em­barqued: but the destinies pitty­ing these two persons, would in this matter make manifest how much they could performe, in gi­uing worldlings to vnderstand, that no man (how valiant or dis­creet soeuer) can helpe themselues without their diuine ayde. For as soon as the Mariners had weighed their anchors & hoysed their sailes, hoping to set their course for Lon­don, the winde and tempest raysed such a storme, that without any storage at all, the shippe was tos­sed with so great rage, that the Ma­riners and all the rest despairing of health, expected no other buriall but in the fishes bellies. And thus they remayned two dayes and two nights, not knowing where they were, much lesse what they should doe. In the end, the Sea being ap­peased, and the storme past, about the breake of day they discouered the poore Rocke, where they took landing: and because some of the Mariners (who knew the place) did tell the Damosell of Denmark, that Andahod the deuout Hermit had there his residence, shee determi­ned to goe heare diuine seruice, & to giue God thankes for the good that hee had done for them in deli­uering them from such perill: and without longer stay shee began to goe vp the Rocke, accompanied with Durin and Enil. At the same time the Faire Forlorne (who by chance had passed that night vnder the trees, as hee was accustomed) perceiued them, and seeing that they came towards him, because hee would not be seene hee turned another way, and got to the Her­mitage before them, where hee found the Hermit ready to say ser­uice. But hee tolde him that there were people newly arriued, who were comming vp the Rocke, and therefore it were good to stay, if he pleased, vnto the which the Her­mite willingly agreed. At the same time was the Faire Forlorn so leane, wanne, and so tanned with the heat of the Sunne, that hee could hard­ly be knowen for Amadis, for his continuall weeping made such sur­rowes in his face, that there was [Page 54] nothing to bee discerned but skin and bone. And as the Gentlewo­man and her company entred into the Chappell, hee was vpon his knees lifting vp his eyes to the hea­uens and praying that either by his speedy death his c [...]re might be en­ded, or in prolonging his dayes some present comfort might be af­forded vnto him. Whilest he was thus praying, the Hermit beganne his seruice, during which time the Faire Forlorne did not once looke vp, to beholde any of them [...]r riued vntill it was ended, who casting his eyes vpon them, hee knew the Damosell of Denmarke & the rest. Therewithall hee felt such a motion that (both by reason of his great weakenesse, as also by see­ing of her that put him in minde of all his martyrdome) he fell downe all along vpon the ground, where­fore the Hermit thinking that hee had beene dead, cryed out: Ay me is he gone? then God haue mercy vpon his soule. Saying so, a flood of teares fell from his eyes downe vpon his long hoary beard. Then he sayd vnto the Damosell of Den­marke: I pray you Gentlewoman for charity sake, command your Esquires that they may helpe mee to beare my fellow into his cham­ber, for so farre as I see it shall bee the last good that wee can doe for him. Whereupon E [...]il and Durin tooke him vp, neither of them knowing him. But the Damosel of Denmarke demanded of the Her­mit what he was. Truely answered hee, it is a knight which liueth here in penance. Trust me sayd the Da­mosell, hee hath chosen a very au­stere life, and in a very desert place. Hee hath done it, answered the Hermit, to separate himselfe from the vanities of the world. Verily sayde the Gentlewoman, seeing you assure me that he is a knight, I will see him before I depart: and if there be any thing within the ship, which may serue his turne, I will cause it to bee left for him. It shall be well done answered hee, but so farre as I see, he is so neare his end, that I beleeue hee will ease you of that labour. Herewithall the Da­mosell entred into the little cham­ber where the Faire Forlorne was layd, who seeing her so neere vnto him, knew not what he should do: for hee thought that making him-selfe to be known, he should trans­gresse the commandement of his Oriana, and also if shee departed, and he not discouered, hee should remaine voyde of all hope. In the end he concluded that it were lesse hurtfull for him to die, then his La­die should be displeased, therefore hee determined for resolution not to manifest himselfe in any sort vn­to the Damosell of Denmarke, who sayd vnto him. My friend I haue been enformed by the Hermit that you are a knight, and because all Gentlewomen are greatly bound vnto good knights, for the benefits and pleasures that they commonly receiue at their hands in defending them, and deliuering them from many and great dangers, I had a great desire before I departed to see you, to giue vnto you such pro­uisions as are in my ship, that shall be necessarie for your health. Not­withstanding, he answered her no­thing, neither did hee any other thing but lament and sigh: and be­cause that in that little Cell where­in hee remayned, there was little light, the Gentlewoman did not know whether hee were a dying or no. Whereupon she was ware of a window, which she opened, by the light whereof shee might behold him more at ease: but all the while [Page 55] that she beheld him, hee neuer cast his eyes off from her, neuerthelesse hee spake not one word, but sigh­ed without ceasing, like vnto a wight, whose heart was ouerchar­ged with woe, which moued the Damosel to exceeding pittie. And comforting him in the best sorte she could, by chance shee espied a scarre which he had vpon his face, with a blow that Arcalaus the En­chanter had giuen him, when hee rescued Oriana, as hath beene reci­ted in the first Booke. Wherefore shee thought in her minde that without doubt this was Amadis whom shee [...]ought, and at the in­stant shee did know that he was e­uen the same, & for the same cause shee being grealy amased, cryed out, Alas what do I see? My Lord you are he that hath made me haue many a weary iourney to find you: this sayd, she embraced him. Alas my Lord sayd shee, it is now high time to extend both pitty and par­don vnto her, who (procured there­unto by some sinister report, hath brought you to this great extrea­mitie) beleeue me, doth now iust­ly endure a life worse then death: then did she deliuer him the Letter that Oriana had written vnto him. Hold sayd she, your Lady sendeth you this, and commandeth you by me, that if you be the same Amadis that you were wo [...]t to be, and hee whō she so much loueth, that (for­getting all passed faults) you come vnto her to the Castle of Mirefleur, where a full satisfaction shall bee made vnto you, for the sorrowes and anguishes which you haue suf­fered for your ouer feruent loue. Here withall was the Faire Forlorne so greatly rauished, that it was a long time before hee could answer one word, but hee tooke the Let­ter which hee kissed without cea­sing, and afterwards put it next vn­to his heart, saying▪ O poore heart so long time passioned, that hard­ly hast thou beene able to resist such a tempest, notwithstanding the abundance of teares, which thou so continually hast distilled, that it hath almost brought thee euen to the point of death, receiue now this medicine, the which on­ly is conuenient for thy health, and come forth of this darknes, which so long hath blinded thee, taking thy strength againe vnto thee, to serue her that of her owne free grace causeth thee to reuiue. Then opened hee the Letter which con­tayned

Herewithall a new ioy possessed the minde of the Faire Forlorne, and hee quite banished the conti­nuall melancholy which had so long tormented him▪ neuerthe­lesse, the perplexity wherein Oria­na remained, in expecting newes from him, with held part of plea­sure: wherefore he praied the Da­mosell of Denmarke, to aduise her selfe what she had to do for I feele my selfe, said he, so farre beside my selfe, that I can thinke vpon no o­ther thing, but vpon the new resti­tution of my life, which I haue re­ceiued by your meanes. I am of the opinion, answered the Damosell, seeing that these in my company do not know you, to tell them that for pittie sake, I will cary you to the Firme Island, only to see if by chan­ging the aire, you may also change your malady: the which was ac­cordingly performed. Notwith­standing, the Faire Forlorne before his departure, declared vnto the Hermit, how the Gentlewoman had so long sought for him, that now they were heere casually met together, onely by meere chance, and the storme which had brought her vnto the poore Rock. And for this cause my father, saide he, I am constrained to leaue you and to follow her, assuring you that so long as I liue, I shall neuer forget the good which you haue done for mee, for without your good help, I had perished both body and soule. And seeing that by your de­uout praires (as I beleeue) I haue beene preserued hitherto, I most humbly beseech you to haue your poore guest still in remembrance. And moreouer to do so much for me, that hereafter you would doe your best to reforme the Monesta­ry which I haue caused to be buil­ded in the Firme-Island, as heere tofore I haue tolde you: the which the holy man promised to accom­plish, and with the teares in his eyes, blessed the Faire Forlorne, who without longer stay, went a­boord with the Damosell of Den­marke. The sailes were no sooner horsed, and the ship lanched out into the main, but they had so stiffe a gale in their poupe, that within a fewe daies after they arriued in a port of great Brittaine, he not be­ing as yet knowne by any other but [Page 59] the Damosell. Then came they on shoare and tooke their ready way towardes Mirefleur, where Oriana stayed their comming, being well aduised to amend the fault that she had made. And the Damosell in riding together with the Faire For­ [...]rne, sayd. What ioy will my La­die receiue when she shall beholde you? belecue mee that neuer wo­man was in a more desperate case then she, when she [...]stood by [...] the [...]t at you had in [...] her Lett [...]r [...] assure you that shee was [...] haue [...], I doe greatly wonder how [...]ee hath beene ab [...] vntill this time to sup­p [...] the [...] which [...]he yet pos­sesseth▪ And you neede not to doubt but that Mabila and I were greatly troubled, for none of vs did know that my hrother was sent vn­to you, and my Lady had expresly charged him that in no sort hee should tell vs thereof, which had like v [...]to haue beene the cause of [...] [...]ischiefe then is yet happe­ned. Beleeue me said the Faire For­ [...]ne. I was neuer in greater danger [...] death and I doe maruell where­ [...] [...] framed this imagination that shee hath conceiued against me, seeing that I neuer thought to doe any thing which might dis­please her: and although I should haue so fa [...]e forgotten my selfe, yet did I not deserue such a cruell Letter as shee did write vnto mee. For although I make not those bragges & hipocrisies that a num­ber can doe, yet doe not I forget to measure the fauours and graces which I haue receiued at her [...]nd: and were not this thought [...] in bad ground, I am sure she would not be suspicious of the fruit thereof, seeing that both the one and the other, are wholly dedica­ted to serue and obey her. Alas when Corisanda arriued in our Her­mitage, I did then verily think that my ende was come: the good La­dy bewailed her passion which she indured in louing my brother Plo restan, too vehemently, and I died with displeasure, to bee so wrong­fully banished by Oriana. H [...] many pa [...]es, what [...], what intollerable torments, haue I suffered in the poore Rocke, without receiuing consolation from any liuing creature, but the good Her­mit, who perswaded mee to pati­ [...]? Alas what h [...]d p [...] [...]ne I indured for her wh [...]m I ne­uer offended? beleeue me Damo [...], I was so excee [...] troubled, that euery houre I d [...]red death, and as often did I feare to lose my life. But I pray you imagine, the despaire wheren I remayned, when I shewed vnto the Gentlewomen of Corisanda, the song that I made in my greatest tribulation. And as hee would haue proceeded in discoursing his dolours, the Da­mosell of Denmarke sayd vnto him, in good faith, so farre as I perceiue you haue both indured much sor­row, one for another: and there­fore you must forget what is past, and amend what is to come.

With these and such like dis­courses thy arriued neere vnto a Nunnery, which was in the midst of the forrest, foure dayes iourney from London. Doe [...] know sayd the Damosell, what I have thought vpon: I thinke it for the best you doe tarry heere to rest your selfe, and I will go vnto my Lady, to tell her of your arriuall, which done I will send Durin backe againe, to let you know what you are to do. Not withstanding I thinke it best that Enil should not yet know who you are no more then he now doth, & that hee should tarry heere with [Page 60] you to serue you: but Durin al­ready vnderstandeth somewhat of the affaires betwixt Oriana & you, wherefore you neede not feare to disclose your selfe vnto him. Here-upon they called him, and the Da­mosell of Denmarke sayd vnto him. Brother, you were partly cause of the losse of Amadis, by the Letter which you carried to him, and yet so farre as I perceiue you haue not hither to knowne him, but doe you thinke it possible that this Hermite may be my Lord Amadis? and ne­uerthelesse it is he without doubt, but take heede vpon your life that he be not disclosed by you neither to Enil, nor any other: when Durin knew that his sister sayde true, ne­uer was man more amazed then hee: in the meane while they en­tered into the Nunnery, where the Damosell called Enil and sayd vn­to him, Enil I pray thee tarry with this knight vntill hee haue a little recouered his strength, and in the meane season my brother and I will depart about certaine busines that wee haue to doe. By Saint Mary answered Enil, I will obey whatsoeuer you shall commaund mee. Then they departed, and the Faire Forlorne remayned in the Nunnerie for the occasion aboue rehearsed.

CHAP. XI.

IT hath beene hereto­fore tolde you that Golaor, Florestan, and Agraies departed frō the Firme-Iland, to begin the search of Amadis, who was secretly departed from them. You must now vnderstand that af­ter they had trauayled thorough many strange countries (wherein they performed many worthy deedes of armes and perillous aduentures, without hearing any newes of Amadis) seeing that their time approached wherein they promised one another to meete in the Court of King Lisuart, they de­termined to returne thither: and they all did meete euen vpon Saint Iohns day earely in the morning at an Hermitage hard by London, ac­cording as they had appointed. And the first that came thither, was Galaor, Agraies next, and shortly after Florestan, accompanied with Gandalin. Glad were they all to see each other in health, but so sorrow­full for the little good that they had done in this enterprise, as the teares fell from their eyes. Where-upon Gandalin shewing the dutie of a good and faithfull seruant, said vnto them. Beleeue me Lords, all your teares cannot bring him whō you desire to finde, except it be by another diligent search, which you may a fresh vndertake. And all­though that you haue already done your best endeauour, yet ought you not to thinke much of your la­bour, but seeke him better then euer you did, seeing that you are assured thoroughly what hee would haue done for euery one of you particularly, if fortune had offered any occasion. Now [Page 61] then if behooueth you to doe the like for him, for if you doe lose him in this sort, it shall not onely bee the losse of the most gentle knight in the world, but of the nee­rest kinsman that you haue, and o­uer and besides, it will be vnto you a great blemish. Therefore my Lords I beseech you, in perfor­ming the duty of a brother, a friend, and a companion, to begin his search a fresh, without sparing therein at all either time or toile. This perswasiō did Gandalin make, in weeping so extreamly, that it greatly putied the three knights to behold him, so as they concluded, after they had beene in the Court (if they heard not news of Amadis) to begin a new pursuit, & to com­passe the whole world about till they had found him: and vpon this determination (after they had heard diuine seruice) they depar­ted from the hermitage, and tooke the way towards London. But as they approched nere vnto the Cit­tie, they were ware of the King, who was already in the fields ac­companied with many noble men, and valiant knights: for hee cele­brated that day with all magnifi­cence, because that vpon the same he was crowned peaceable king of great Brittaine, which was the prin­cipall occasion that many knights came to serue him. Who behol­ding Galaor, and his fellowes com­ming towards them, shewed the king thereof, and they in the mean season were hard at hand. But be­cause Florestan had neuer before seene such an assembly, Galaor said vnto him. Brother behold the king. Now had they all three their head­pieces off, wherefore some in the company did know them all forth-with except Flotestan, the King im­braced them, demanding how they fared. Then Florestan [...] to kisse his hands, the which he refu­sed. And because he was the Gen­tleman that did most of all resem­ble Amadis, and that heretofore he had heard speaking of him, he be­gan to suspect that it was his bro­ther, and therefore he saide vnto Galaor, I beleeue that this is your brother Florestan. It is he indeede, if it please your Maiestie, who hath a great desire to doe you seruice. Ah, said the king, I would Ama­dis were now heere that I might see you all three together, what, saide Galaor, hath your grace heard [...] newes of him? No, saide the king: but what haue you heard? It may please your Maiestie, answered he, wee haue all three sought him a whole yeere, yet haue we done no good, but lost our labour, and we did thinke to haue found him here in your Court: wherefore seeing your grace hath certified me to the contrary, I am in worse hope of his recouery then before. So am not I, saide the king, for I am per­swaded the heauens haue not en­dued him with such perfections, to forsake him after this manner, which maketh me to beleeue, that we shall very shortly heare some tidings of him. Whē they had en­ded their talke, they entred into the Cittie, where the Queene and the other Ladies were inconti­nently aduertised of their arriuall, wherewith they were as glad as might bee, especially Olinda, the friend to Agraies, who very lately was aduertised, that he had passed vnder the arch of faithfull louers, and shee expected his comming with as great deuotion, as Corisan­da did the arriuall of Florestan. Then M [...] imagining to do O­rian [...] a pleasure, [...] to aduertise her: but she [...] [...]wordh-drawn [Page 62] i [...]to [...]er, where shee sawe her [...]ing her head vpon one of h [...]r h [...]ds, and reading in a booke, to whom she saide: Madame, will you please to come downe to see Galaor, Agr [...] and Florestan, who are now newely heere arriued? Whē she heard her speake nothing of Amadis, a new feare strook at her heart, so that she knew not what to doe, and the teares distilled from her eyes in such aboundance, that her speech failed. Neuerthelesse, in the end, not beeing able to dis­semble her griefe, shee answered Mabila: my cosin and sweet friend, how would you haue me to go see them? in good sooth, I haue not my minde so well setled that I may dissemble or hide that, which in their presence I ought to doe. Moreouer mine eyes are ouerswol­len with much weeping, and (that which worse is) it is impossible for to behold those, whom I did neuer see but in the company of your co­sin, whom I haue so highly offen­ded. Heerewithall her heart was likely to haue left her sorrowfull body, and she cryed. My God how doe you permit mee wretched wo­man to liue, being so worthy of death? Ah my deere loue, I doe now feele a double griefe for your absence, seeing Galaor & the rest to returne without you, whome you loued as deere as your selfe, who knowing the iniury and wicked act that I haue cōmitted against you, shall haue iust cause to procure my ruine, whereunto I consent with a good will, seeing that so vn­aduisedly I haue beene the meanes of your losse. Herewithall she had fallen downe all along, if Mabila who streight espied it, had not stai­ed her vp, saying vnto her: Ma­dame, will you alwaies continue these strange passions? I know well that in the end, you will publish that to your shame, which we doe most desire should be kept secret. Is this the constancy which you ought to haue, especially seeing that day by day we expect to heare good newes by the Damosell of Denmarke? Alas, answered shee, you speake at your pleasure, is it possible that shee may finde him, hauing the charge but to seek him onely in Scotland, seeing that his brethren haue in a manner com­passed all the West▪ without hea­ring any newes at all of him? You abuse your selfe, saide Mabila, it may bee that they had found him, but that hee kept himselfe secret from them, the which he wil neuer do frō your Gentlewoman, know­ing that she is priuie to both your loues. And therefore be of good cheere vntill her returne, and then doe as you shall thinke good: and for this time, let vs goe if it please you towards the Queene who de­mandeth for you. Well, answe­red Oriana, I am content to doe what you will. Then shee dried her eyes, and went in the Queenes chamber, into the which the three knights were already entred: who seeing her comming did their du­ty vnto her: at the same time the King held Galaor by the hand, vnto whom he said: behold I pray you, how your good friend Oriana is impaired, since you did last see her. In good faith, answered Galaor, your Maiestie saith true, and I would with all my heart, that I might doe her any pleasure, that might purchase her former health. Herewithall Oriana smiled, saying vnto Galaor. God is the only com­forter of all men, so that when his pleasure is, my health shall bee re­stored, and your losses recouered, which no doubt are great, for so [Page 63] deere a brother Amadis was vnto you. And I would that the trauell which you haue taken to seeke him in farre countries, had brought some fruit, as well for the good of you and yours, as also for the ser­uice of the King my father, vnto the which hee was wholly adicted. Madame answered Galaor, I trust that wee shall very shortly heare some newes of him, because he is the knight that I haue euermore seene most valiantly to resist all ex­tremities. God grant it said Oriana, but I pray you cause Don Florestan to come neere vnto vs, that I may more plainely beholde him, for I haue beene tolde that hee is the knight that doth most resemble your brother Amadis. Whereupon Galaor called him, and he came & saluted Oriana, who tooke him by the hand, & they three sate downe together. Then the Princesse ima­gined that she did verily beholde him, who beeing absent from her, shee had day and night before her eyes, and therefore shee began to blush and change her colour. Now had Mabila in like fort withdrawn her selfe, together with Olinda, to giue a better occasion vnto her brother Agraies more priuately to speake vnto her: and there withall hee seeing them in a place so con­uenient, came and saluted them, then at their request he sate downe betweene them, in taking Olinda secretly by the hand. And she who did languish for his loue, was the gladdest that might be, being sure of his constancy, by the proofe which he had made passing vnder the arch of loyall louers in the Firme-Island, in recompence whereof she would willingly haue giuen him better intertainement, if she durst. But the presence of so many witnesses, took from them not o [...] the [...], which o­therwise they would h [...]e g [...] the one to the other, but all [...] the facility and liberty of speech: so that their eyes onely serued to sup­ply this default, which [...]hey imploi­ed therein according to the affecti­ons of their passioned harts. And as they were in these pleasant tearms there was heard from the chamber as if it had been the voyce of some oppressed with grief, wherfore the king would needs know who it was? It may please your Maiesty answe­red an Esquire it is Gandalin & the Dwarffe, who no sooner beheld the shield and armour of Amadis, but they made and yet continue the strangest lamentation that possibly may be. What sayde the King, is Gandalin here? He is if it like your Maiesty answered Florestan. It is very neere two monethes since I did finde him at the foot of the hill of Sang [...]in, as hee was seeking his Maister, and because I did tell him that I had already sought him in euery place, hee was content to come with me. In good faith said the King, I haue alwaies esteemed Gandalin for such a one, as now he sheweth himselfe to be, for I did neuer see any Esquire to loue his Master better then hee doth.

When Oriana heard these words, especially how that Gandalin was returned without Amadis, she was in such a perplexity, that shee was likely to haue swouned betweene Florest [...] his armes, who not know­ing the cause of her sudden passi­on, and fearing to affright the King and the company, called Ma­bila, who forthwith doubted such a mischance. Wherefore leauing Agraies alone with Olinda, shee came vnto Oriana, and caused her secretly to depart into her cham­ber, and to lie downe vpon her [Page 64] bed, where shee remained not lo [...]g, but that rising vp as it were almost beside her selfe, shee sayd vnto M [...]bila: Cosen, you knowe that since our comming to this Cittie, there hath passed neuer a day wherein wee haue not recei­ued [...]ore displeasure. Therefore I am determined to withdrawe my selfe for a certaine time vnto my Castle of Mirefleur, for my heart telleth me that in changing the ayre, I shall also change my afflic­tions, and that my troubled spirit shall there finde rest. Madame, answered Mabila, I am of the same opinion, to the end that when the Damosell of Denmarke doth re­turne, you may more priuately speake with her, and pleasure him that shee (I hope) shall bring with her, the which would be very hard, yea almost impossible to doe in this place. As you loue mee then sayd Oriana, let vs not tarry any longer: for I am sure the King and Queene will very willingly giue vs leaue.

Now you must vnderstand, that this place of Mirefleur, was a little Castle most pleasantly seated two leagues from London, built vpon the side of a hill, and compassed vpon the one side with the Forrest, and vpon the other with many Or­chards, full of all sorts of trees and pleasant flowers: moreouer it was inuironed with many great Foun­taines, which watered it on all parts. And because that once the King (being there on hunting with the Queene) seeing that his daugh­ter tooke great pleasure in the place, hee bestowed it vpon her, and afterwards she caused a Nun­nerie to bee builded within a bow shot thereof, whereunto she some­times went to recreate her selfe. But that I may not degresse ouer farre from my first discourse, Ori­ [...]a according as she had determi­ned, came and demanded leaue of the King and Queene for her de­parture, the which was easily gran­ted vnto her: and therefore shee purposed to depart the next day very earely in the morning. And because that Galaor and his con­sorts would in like sort returne to make a new search for Amadis, fin­ding the King at leasure, they sayd vnto him: If it please your Maie­sty, wee were greatly to be blamed if wee should any longer deferre the seeking of Amadis, because my fellowes and I haue sworne neuer to rest in any place, before wee haue heard of him, therefore it may please your grace to giue vs leaue to depart to morrowe, to doe our endeauours. My friends answered the King. I pray you de­ferre your departure yet a fewe daies longer, in the meane season I will cause thirty knights to de­part from hence, who shall goe & begin this voyage: for I haue great neede of such knights as you are, for an enterprise which is happe­ned vnto me, the which importeth me greatly both in goods and ho­nour, it is a battaile which I haue appointed against King Cildadan of Ireland, who is a strong and mighty Prince. And to let you vnderstand the cause of this warre, Cildadan hath married one of the daughters of King Abies, whom Amadis slew in Gaule. And al­though time out of minde, the realme of Ireland hath euer beene tributarie vnto the King of Great Brittaine: neuerthelesse to haue an occasion of quarrell this Cilda­dan refuseth the payment thereof, and sendeth me word that he will put one hundred of his knights in battaile against the like number [Page 65] of mine, vpon this condition, that if he be ouercome he will redouble the tribute which I doe demand of him, otherwise he will hence-forth remaine free and acquitted, the which I haue condiscended vnto. So my friends, I doe most earnest­ly entreat you, euen as you loue mee, not to forsake mee in this my greatest neede, knowing assured­ly, that my enemies are strong, and determined to worke my dis­pleasure, but by your good helpe and the right that we haue, we shal easily ouercome them, then shall you goe seeke out Amadis, as you haue determined, and you shall take as many of my knights with you as you please. When they heard this request which the King did make vnto them, there was not any amongst thē, that was not con­tent to obey him, seeing his ne­cessity so great, although that thereby the quest of Amadis was delaied: and at the same instant they promised not to forsake him. During this cōference, Mabila sent to seeke Gandalin, for shee would speake with him before shee went to Mirefleur, who came vnto her: and as soone as hee did see her, he could not possibly refraine from weeping, nor she likewise. Afterwards hauing some-what eased their hearts with their exceeding teares, Gandalin spake first, saying vnto Mabila: Alas Madame, what wrong hath Oriana offered, not onely to you, hut vnto all your lignage together, causing you to lose the best Knight in the world. Ah, how ingratefull hath she shew­ed her selfe vnto you for the ser­uice which you haue done vnto her? and that which is yet worst of all, she hath wronged him that ne­uer offended her either in word or thought: wherefore I may well say, that God hath very ill be­stowed vpon her that great beau­ty, and other excellent gifts where-with he hath endued her, seeing they are gouerned and ouer-ruled with so great treason: and yet I am well assured that none hath lost more then she. Gandalin my friend answered Mabila, I pray thee put that thought forth of thy minde, for thou art ouer-much deceiued, seeing that all which my Lady O­riana hath done, hath beene for the griefe and displeasure that she cō ­ceiued for one word which was o­uer-lightly reported vnto her, through which she hath conceiued some occasion of iélousie, imagi­ning, that thy maister had forgot­ten her, and that the affection which he did beare vnto her, was turned and bestowed vpon ano­ther. Notwithstanding, she did ne­uer imagine, that her letter (writ­ten in choller) should haue beene of such consequence, nor that so much hurt should haue proceeded thereof: but shee committed this fault as one that was caryed away with too extreame loue, which fault is the more pardonable in her, for the repentance which she hath endured euer since. Ay [...] saide Gandalin, how was the dis­creete vnderstanding of my Lady, and you abused at that time, i [...] ­gining that my maister could only but thinke to commit so hainous [...] fault against her, whom before hee should haue offended, hee would haue suffered himselfe to be buried quick vnder the ground? and I p [...] you Madam, tel me if it please you, the roote of this mischiefe, and what was that vnhappy worde, which so troubled the vertue & spi­rit of you both, to ca [...]e the death of the most perfect Knight that e­uer was borne. Ardan the Dwarffe, [Page 66] answered Mabila, (thinking to speake for the aduantage of Ama­dis) was the occasion of all this mis­chiefe. Then she recited vnto him at large, the whole discourse of the three peeces of the sword, as you haue heard in the first booke. And assure thee Gandalin, said she, that neither the Damosell of Denmarke nor I, were euer able to driue it from the fantasie of Oriana, but that she was forsaken by him, so as shee still perceiuing that shee was cōtraried by the Damosell of Den­marke and me, did hide her selfe from vs, and vnawares to vs both she wrot vnto him, that vnhappy letter which Durin did bring him, by the which is sprung the whole sourse of this mischiefe. Whereof shee hath since that time, often e­nough repented her: for from the first houre that she did heare of A­madis his losse, shee hath receiued so great sorrow and griefe, that it is impossible to receiue any more: and neuerthelesse, we haue been in a manner very glad of her punish­ment, seeing that she hath not yet feared to procure his displeasure, that of her hath so well deserued. All this discourse did Oriana heare, who was in her wardrobe: and per­ceiuing that they had changed then talke, shee came forth as if she had heard nothing at all. And as shee would haue spoken vnto Gandalin, the teares distilled from her eyes, and she began to tremble so extreamely, that she fell downe all along vpon the floore, crying. Gentle Gandalin, if thou art the same that thou shouldest be vnto thy maister, reuenge vpō me forth-with, the greate miserie which vn­iustly he endureth. Madam, answe­red hee, what would you haue mee to do? I pray thee, said she, kill me: and since I haue most iniuriously caused his death, thou oughtest not in reason to defer the reuenge thereof, for I am sure he wold haue done more for thee. Saying so her speech failed, and shee swouned as though she had bin departed. But Mabila accustomed to such qualms, did releeue her with a pre­sent and fit remedy, that when she came to her selfe againe, she cried wringing her hands. Ah Gandalin, thou doest mee great wrong, thus long to defer my end: I would to God that thy father were in thy place, I am sure that hee would be­stir himselfe better thē thou doest: Madame, answered Gandalin, God defend me from such disloyalty, I should truely play the part of the notablest villaine in the world, if I should but onely thinke such a thought, much more if I should commit two so great treasons, one against you, and the other against my Lord, who cannot liue one on­ly houre after you. And I would neuer haue thought that so wicked coūsell should haue had any place within your spirit, for the incer­tainty that you haue of my maister his death, who could haue hardly endured this wrong which you now in these words haue offered him, without endangering his life, for death commeth not but at the will and pleasure of God: who hath not bestowed these fauours vpon him euer since his natiuitie, that for any iniurie that you haue done vnto him, he will permit that he should yet die. Many other rea­sons and perswasions did Gandalin vse to Oriana which gaue great ease to her matirdom, by means where-of she said vnto him: Gandalin my friend, I am determined to mor­row morning to depart vnto Mire­fleur, to expect either life or death, according to the newes which the [Page 67] Damosell of Denmarke shall bring vnto me. And because I shall re­maine there some long time, I pray thee vnder the colour of seeing Mabila, to come and visit vs often-times, for me thinkes my sorrow decreaseth when I doe see thee. Madame, answered Gandalin, I am ready to obey you in whatsoeuer it shall please you to command mee. This said, he tooke his leaue of her, and as he departed from thence, he passed by where the Queene was, who caused him to be called, and then shee saide vnto him. Gandalin my friend, wherfore didst thou for­sake thy maister? Madame, answe­red he, it was sore against my will, and to my great griefe. Then hee rehersed the manner how hee de­parted from the hermitage, and the complaints and lamentations that he made, especially he decla­red what his manner and behaui­our was, when he found him in the bottom of the valley, which moued the Queene vnto such pittie, that shee shed luke warme teares there­at. Whereunto Gandalin taking good heed, said vnto her. Madam, your highnesse hath reason to la­ment the losse of my Lord, for hee was your graces most humble ser­uant. Nay rather my good friend and protector, answered she, and I would it were the Lords pleasure, that wee might heare such speedy newes from him, as might giue vs cause to reioyce. And as they tal­ked together, Gandalin cast his eye vpon Florestan, who was talking with Corisanda, whome Gandalin knew not: but hee thought her to be one of the fairest Ladies that e­uer he had seene, therefore hee be­seeched the Queen to tell him who shee was, the which shee did, and the occasion wherefore shee was come into great Brittaine, as also the loue which she did beare vnto Florestan, for whose sake she staied at the Court: if she doe loue him, said Gandalin, shee may well vaunt that her loue is imployed vpon him, in whome all bounty remain­eth, and he is such a one, that hard­ly may his equal be found in all the world: and moreouer Madame, I assure you, that if your grace did know him so well as I, you would not esteeme any knight more then he, for he is of a most valiant heart and high resolution. He seemeth to be such a one, answered the Queen, further-more hee is of so good a grace, and alied to so many good knights, that it is impossible but that hee should bee such a gentle knight as thou hast reported him to be. In the meane season Florestan entertained his Lady and Mistris, whom he loued most feruently, & not without a cause: for shee was passing faire, a rich Lady, and alied to the noblest houses in all great Brittaine. Who hauing remained yet some few dayes in the Court after his returne, shee determined to depart, and taking her leaue of the king and Queene, she took her iourney toward her own countrey. Two whole daies together did Flo­restan accompany her, who promi­sed her that so soone as he heard a­ny newes of Amadis, and that the battaile was past betwixt the two Kings, Lisuart and Cildadan, (if he remained aliue) hee would come vnto her to tarry with her a long time: then taking his leaue of her, hee returned vnto the Court. But you must vnderstand, that Oriana who had not forgotten her deter­mination of going to Mirefleur, departed the next morning with her traine, where shee had not long remained, but that she per­ceiued the amendment of her [Page 68] health, and with the same, her hope increased to see him, whom shee so greatly desired. And be­cause that the king had appointed, that during her aboade in that place of Mirefleur, the gate should continually bee kept, and that no body should enter thereinn: Ori­ana foreseeing (for the great de­sire shee had that it should be so) the comming of Amadis, shee sent to tell the Abbesse, that shee should send vnto her the keyes of the Nunnerie gardens, to walke thither sometimes for her recrea­tion, the which shee accompli­shed, which were hard adioyning to the Castle, but yet inclosed with very high walles. And one day as Oriana walked there, ac­companied onely with Mabila, seeing the place fauourable and fit for her purpose, as if Amadis were returned, she began to thinke of him in such sort, and vpon the pleasure she should receiue by his presence, that in speaking to her­selfe she sayd: Ah my onely hope, my sollace and my intire refuge, wherefore art thou not beere with mee, seeing at this present I haue the meanes both to giue vnto thee, and also to receiue of thee, such case and contentment as we haue so oftentimes desired to receiue one of another? At the least I wil not depart from hence vntil I haue wholy satisfied the hurt which by my ouer-great folly I haue pro­cured vnto you, but I will here at­tend your comming. And if Fates or fortune doe permit mee to be­holde you here shortly, I promise you, sweete loue, to giue you the sure contentment that your ser­uent loue hath promised vnto you a long time: but if my misfortune shall bee an hinderance vnto your speedy returne, your only absence shall bee the meanes to hasten my end: wherefore I beseech you to take pitty on this my weakenesse, and to succour mee, for I liue and yet languish in extreame bitter­nesse. And seeing that euer hi­therto you haue beene obedient vnto mee, without contradicting me in any sort, now the necessity beeing such, I pray you by that power which you haue giuen mee ouer you, that you would come to deliuer mee from death (which I feele to approach) and tarry not: otherwise your delay will cause you ouer late to repent my vnhap­py end. In this sort did she speak as if Amadis had beene present, when Mabila brake off her thought, and Oriana changing her talke, sayd to her: Cosen, seeing that wee haue the keyes of this place, it were best that Gandalin should make some other like vnto them, to the ende that your Cosen beeing returned, may goe and come hither when & as often as hee shall please. It is wel aduised answered Mabila. And as they were consulting, there was one of the Porters sayd to Mabila: Madam, Gandalin is without, who desireth to speake with you. Let him come in answered Oriana, for he hath beene brought vp with vs a long time: and also he is foster brother vnto Amadis, whom God preserue. God so doe sayde the Porter, it were a great damage that so good & vertuous a knight should sustaine any hurt. Then went he forth to goe seeke Ganda­lin, and in the meane time Oriana said vnto Mabila, I pray you see how your Cosen is beloued and e­steemed of all men, yea euen of the basest sort of people, that are in a manner, voyde of all vertue, it is true answered Mabila. Then Oriana sayde, what would you [Page 69] haue mee doe but die? hauing beene the onely cause of the ruine of him who is more worth, then all the men in the world, and who did better loue me, then his owne selfe? Ah accursed be the houre wherein I was borne, seeing that by my fol­ly and light suspition, I haue done vnto him so great and so much wrong: Madame, answered Mabi­la, I pray you forget these imagi­nations, and onely arme you with hope, for all this which you both say and doe, serueth in no sort to ease your dolour. Herewithall Gandalin entred in, whom Oriana caused to sit downe by her: and af­ter some conference which they had together, she recited how she had sent the Damosell of Denmark to seeke Amadis: vnto whom shee had written a Letter containing that which you haue heard, and what words also she had giuen her in charge to say vnto him, therefore said the Princesse, in thy opinion doest thou thinke that he will par­don me? Madame, answered Gan­dalin, Me thinks you are little ac­quainted with his heart, for I am sure for the least word that is in the letter, hee will teare himselfe into an hundreth peeces for you, if you do but onely command him: by more likelyhood may you imagin whether he will be glad to come see you, yea or no. And be you assured that seeing the Damosel of Denmarke, hath vndertaken the charge to finde him, that she will sooner accomplish the same, then all the persons in the world beside: for I do not thinke (seeing hee did hide himselfe from me that it is e­uer possible for any other but shee to finde him out. For this cause Madam, you ought henceforth to liue in good hope, and to reioyce more then euer you did, to the end, that when he returneth he may not finde your beauty in such sort de­cayed. What saist thou Gandalin? answered she laughing, doest thou thinke me now so vgly? Nay ra­ther Madame, what do you thinke of your selfe, that in this sort you doe hide you from the sight of all men. I do it to this end, said Oria­na, that when thy Master commeth if he would flie me for my deformi­ty, I might in this place stay him as my prisoner. I would said he, that he were here already, and free from that other prison, wherein hee re­maineth for your loue. Well said Oriana, we haue now other mat­ters in hand, his Cosin and I haue done so much, that wee haue got­ten the keyes of these gardens, by the which at his returne, he may come in hither to see vs, at al times and as often as he will, and thou must do so much, to cause two o­ther keyes like these to bee made, the which he shall keepe. In good faith, said Gandalin, it is well and wisely aduised. Then the Prin­cesse deliuered him the keyes, and without any longer staying in Mi­refleur he returned to London, where he executed his commission so di­ligently, that the next morning he came vnto Mabila, vnto whom he deliuered the counterfeit keyes, who shewed them straight vnto O­riana, saying vnto her: behold al­ready a good beginning, for the recompencing of the hurt which you procured vnto your Amadis. Mine? answered Oriana, I would to God he were here. I then might well call him mine, whether hee would or no, Go to, go to, let vs not come out of Gods blessing in­to a warme Sun, said Mabila, but let vs see this night if Gandalin haue performed his taske well, and whether the keyes will open the [Page 70] dores or not. I pray you let vs, said Oriana. And for that present they made an end of their talke, waiting a conuenient time to finish their enterprise: and according to their appointment, about mid-night (when euery one were sound a­sleepe) they secretly rose vp, and came down into the Court, it was then in the time of the moones waining, and for that cause the darknes did beare the more sway: wherefore Oriana began to bee a­fraid, and said vnto Mabila: I pray thee hold me by the hand, for I am almost dead with feare. No, no, I will defend you well enough, an­swered shee, am not I cosin to the most valiant knight in the world? But although Oriana did tremble, yet could shee not refraine from laughter, & said vnto her. Let vs go then garded: for I will henceforth thinke me safe being to be garded by you, who are so valiant in deeds of armes. Seeing that you knowe me so well, answered Mabila, let vs march on boldly, and you shall see how I will finish this aduenture: wherein if I faile, I sweare that for one whole yeere, I will neither hang shield about my necke, nor strike one stroke with the Launce. Heerewithall they began to laugh so loude, that they might haue bin heard very easily, and at the same instant they came vnto the dore, where they tried the first key, which they found maruailous fit, and the second also, wherefore they ope­ned them without any difficultie, and entered into the Orchard. Then sayde Oriana vnto Mabila: Cosin all that wee haue done is to no end, except some-what more be done: how may your co­fin returne when wee once haue brought him into the place, con­sidering the height of the wals? I haue already thought vpon that, answered she, it shall be very easie for him by the corner of this wall, against the which wee will set by this peece of timber, and with the same and our helpe together, hee may easily mount vp to the top thereof: but it behooueth that the chiefest helpe come from you, for you onely reape the commoditie thereof. Wee shall see what will happen, sayde Oriana, and there­fore for this time let vs depart, and goe to sleepe, the which they did. And as they laid them downe in their bed, Mabila on bracing Ori­ana, saide vnto her. Madame, I would that the knight for whome you attempt so many fair enterpri­ses, were now in my place, vpon this condition, that I did goe to sleepe else-where, because I would heare none of your complaints, for the harme that hee might doe vnto you. Gentle cosin, answerrd she, if he were here, I would endure very much before I would com­plaine of it. And so long they con­tinued this pleasant discourse, that loue stinged them so vehemently, as euery amorous Reader may easi­ly imagine what they wanted, to cause them sleep till the next mor­ning that they went to hear diuine seruice: and at their returne they found that Gandalin was already come from London, whom they led with them into the garden, where they told him how they had tryed the keyes, and what words Mabila had vsed in the proouing of them. By my faith Madame, answered he, you do now put me in minde of some iniurious speech that I vsed of you vnto my Lord, thinking thereby to haue comforted him, but therewithall he had thought to haue taken my head frō my shoul­ders, and shortly after I did abide [Page 71] sore penance for thus leasing, be­cause that I fell asleepe, and when I awaked, I neyther found my bri­dle nor saddle, for my Master rode away, and had hidden them of pur­pose to stay me from following of him. Wherefore seeing that he was lost, and that he had left mee, for the words that I had spoken of you, I was driuen into such a Me­lancholy, that I had slaine my selfe if I had had a sword to do it: friend, Gandalin, answered Oriana, thou needest not to excuse him, I kn [...]w that he loueth me without [...] ­lation, therefore I pray th [...] put mee no more in remembrance of that mischiefe, whereof I am the chiefe cause, except thou wilt force my Soule and body to part asun­det, for thou knowest that I stand betweene life and death, accor­ding to the newes that the Damo­sell of Denmarke shall report vnto mee.

CHAP. XII.

KIng Lisuart being rea­dy to rise from dinner as Galaor, and D [...] Flo­restan were taking their leaue of him, to conduct Corisanda onward of her iourney, there entred into the hall a strange knight armd at al points, except onely his head-peece, and gauntlets. Who kneeled before the King, and deliuered vnto him a Letter sealed with fiue seales, hee said vnto him. It may please your Maiesty to command this Letter to be read that you may vnderstand the cause of my comming vnto you. Then the king tooke the Letter and read it, and because it referred to the knights report, he answered him thus. Friend you may performe your charge when it shall please you. Hereupon the knight rose vp, and said aloude, King Lisuart I defie thee, and all thy allies in the behalfe of the mighty Princes, Famangomad Gi­ant of the burning Lake, Carta­daque his Nephew, Giant of the in­uincible Mountaine, Mandafab [...]ll his brother in Law, Giant of the vermillian Tower, D [...] Q [...] brother to the late deceassed King of Abies of Ireland, and Ar [...] the ench [...]nter: who doe all s [...]nd thee word by me, that they haue sworne the death of thee and [...]. And the better to accomplish [...] their enterprise, they will all come in the aid of king Gild [...], & be of the number of his hundred knights who will assuredly destroy thee. Notwithstanding if thou wilt giue thy daughter and heire Oriana, vn­to the [...]ire Madasim [...], daughter to the most redoubted Fa [...], to serue her for her Gentlewoman, they will let thee li [...]e in pe [...], and be thy friends, for they will ma [...]y her with the Prince B [...]sigant, who doth well deserue to be Lord, [...] of thy Land and Daughter also. Therefore King Lisuart ch [...]se thee of these two conditions the best, either peace, which I aduise thee [Page 72] [...] except, or the most cruell [...]rre that may happen vnto th [...], hauing to doe with such mighty and re­doubted Princes. When the King had long giuen eare vnto him (to shew that he made small account of such threats) he smiling thereat, answered him. Trust mee Knight, they that gaue thee this commissi­on, doe thinke farre amisse of me, for I haue all my life time thought a dangerous warre, better then a shamefull peace, because I were worthy of great reprehension, both of God and man, being King ouer such a mighty nation, if I should now through base cowardise, suffer them to bee afflicted with cruelty. Wherefore returne and tell them, that I had rather desire all the daies of my life, that warre which they do threaten me withall, and in the [...]nd to di [...] in battaile, then to [...]cord vnto a peace so much to my dishonor. And because that I desire to know their mind at large, I will send a Knight of mine owne with you, who shall in like sort de­clare vnto them my whole intenti­on, and yet I know not if by their lawes all Embassadors or messen­gers are a [...] free from danger with them, as they are with Christian Princes. If it please your Maiestie, said the knight, that he shal go with me, I will bee his warrant, and will cōduct him vnto the burning lake, which is in the Isle of Mongaza, where they are assembled with the rest of the hundred, to come and meet with you: assuring you that wheresoeuer Don Q [...]edragant abi­deth, ne will neuer suffer wrong to be done vnto any. Truely answered the King, hee sheweth himselfe therein to bee a noble Prince: but tell mee, if it please you, what your name is. Sir, answered hee, I am called Landin, Nephew to D [...] Q [...]gant, who am come with him to reuenge the death of King Abies of Ireland mine vnckle, neuerthelesse wee could neuer yet meete with him that did slay him, and further we doe not well know whether hee bee dead or not. I be­leeue you well, answered the king, and I would you did certainely know him to be liuing, and that he were here, for all the rest would go forward well enough. I know well, said Landin, wherefore your grace saith so, you esteeme him to be the best knight in the world, neuethe­lesse, I hope to bee in the battaile which is prepared for you, and there to performe such worthy deedes of armes, to your disaduan­tage, that it may be you will change your opinion. By our Lady, an­swered the King, I am sorry for that, I had a great deale rather, that you had a desire to remaine in my seruice, notwithstanding, this much I tell you, that there you shall finde those that can tell how to answere you well enough. And you (sayde the Knight) ma­ny other that will pursue you euen vnto shamefull death. When Florestan heard him speake so bold­ly, and to the preuidence of A­madis, his coller was mooued therewithall, and hee saide vnto La [...]din. Knight, I am a stranger in this Countrey, and none of the Kings subiects, so that for any thing which you haue saide vnto him, I haue no occasion to answer you, chiefely because that here are present, so many Knights my bet­ters, ouer whome I will not in any sort insult. Neuerthelesse, seeing that you cannot finde. Amadis, which is (as I think) for your great profit, I am ready to fight with you, and will in his stead defend the quarrel that you haue against him. [Page 73] And to the end that you may the better know me, I am his brother Florestan, who doe offer vnto you the combat vpon this condition, that if I can ouercome, you shall be bound to giue ouer the quarrel that you haue against him, and if you ouercome mee, reuenge part of your anger on mee. Yet thus much by the way, you must not thinke it strange that I haue beene so forward in the matter, for I haue no lesse cause to sustaine his quar­rell against you (he being absent) then you haue to maintaine that of King Abies, whose nephew you are, being very well assured that my Lord Amadis is of power sufficient to reuenge me, if For­tune permit you to haue the ad­uantage ouer me. My Lord Flo­restan answered Landin, so farre as I perceiue, you haue a desire to fight, but I cannot satisfie you at this time, being in no sort at mine owne disposition, as well for the a [...]ires which by another I am ap­pointed to discharge, as also for that I did promise before my de­parture from those Lordes that haue called me into their compa­ny, not to enterprize any matter before the Battaile, that might hinder me to assist and do my best endeuour therein: and therefore at this present hold me excused, vntill the battaile be ended, then I promise you to accept the com­bat which you demand, and soo­ner I cannot intend it. Beleeue me said Florestan, you speake like a worthy Knight: for those that haue the like charge that you now haue, ought to forget and denie the fulfilling of their owne will, to satisfie those from whom they are sent, otherwise they might bee blamed, seeing that although you should get the victory of this co [...] our honour, yet it mi [...] their affaires might be [...]slowed thorow your [...]ay and hinderance, because they doe all repose themselues vpon your charge, therefore I am content to defer it vntill the time that you re­quire, and because you shall not afterwards faile, behold here is my gage. At the same instant he threw downe his gloue, and Lan­din his Gauntlet. Wherefore by their owne consent all was remit­ted vntill the thirtieth day after the battaile. Then Landin tooke his leaue of the king, who deliue­red vnto him a Knight that was called Filipinel to goe with him to defie the Giants as Landin had done him, and became that the Court was troubled for these vn­happy newes, the king desiring to make the company merry, said vnto Galaor, it is come into my remembrance faire knight to doe one thing princely for you, that will greately delight you. Then [...]ie caused his youngest daughter Le [...] ­nor, with all her Gentlewomen to be called, who were all aparrelled in one liuerie, each of them ha­uing chaplets of floures vpon their heads: Whom hee com­manded to dance and [...]ing, as they were accustomed to doe often-times. And you my darling (said he to Leonor) begin with the same song that Amad [...]s, made for the loue of you being your Knight. Herewithall the young princess [...] did sing.

And seeing that it happeneth out so conueniently, I will tell you vpon what occasion Amadis made this song. One day the Queene being talking with Oriana, Mabila and Oli [...]da (Amadis comming in­to her chamber) shee called her daughter Le [...]n [...]r, and saide vnto her: that she should Princely goe, and request Amadis to bee her knight, and that from thenceforth he should serue her, without bea­ring affection to any other but to her. The little Princesse thinking that her mother did speake in good earnest, did rise vp, & with a good grace came and made this request vnto Amadis, whereupon all the Ladies and Gentlewomen began to laugh But Amadis taking her vp in his armes, said vnto her. My lit­tle Lady, if you will haue me to be your Knight, bestow some pretty fauour vpon me in token that you are my Mistresse, and that I am your seruant. I haue nothing, an­swered shee, but this carquent of gold that I were vpon my head. The which she suddainly vntied & gaue it vnto him, wherewithal eue­ry one againe began to laugh, se [...] ­ing how verely shee beleeued the words of Amadis, who for her sake did make this song. And the same did Le [...]n [...]r and her playfellowes sing, as you haue heard, the which did greatly delight all the compa­ny: which being ended, they made a lowly obeisance, & returned vn­to the place where the Queen sate. Then the king tooke Galaor, Flore­stan and Agraies apart, who were desiring leaue of his Mastistie to accompany Corisanda some part of her way, and he said vnto them: My friends you are the three persons of the worlde, vpon whome I doe chiefly rely. You know the battaile that I haue agreed vnto with King Cildada [...], which is to be performed in the first weeke of the moneth of August: wherein wee shall finde a­gainst vs many strong Giants, who are bloudy people, & full of cruel­tie. Wherefore I pray you not to vndertake henceforth any mat­ter or aduenture, that may let you from keeping of mee company, otherwise you shall doe me a most great displeasure, because that by your ayde I trust in God, that the pride and presumption of mine enemies shall bee abated, and wee shall remaine conque­rours, and they quite ouerthrowne and discomfited.

Most royall King, answered Galaor, there is no neede to vse either prayer or commandement vnto vs, to perswade vs to bee in a place so famous: for although wee had not at all any such inten­tion as we haue to serue your Ma­iestie, yet the desire to fight against such personages, should neuerthe­lesse not bee diminished in vs, see­ing that it is the onely duty of all good Knights, to hazard them-selues in such enterprises, where they may gaine honour and repu­tation. [Page 75] Therefore your Maiesty may be assured that our returne hi­ther shall bee very shortly, and in the meane season▪ you may com­municate this matter vnto the rest of your knights, to incourage and to confirm them in the same good will that now they haue to serue your Maiesty, the which counsell the King liked well of, and there-withall hee gaue them leaue to de­part. Thus they went together in the conduct of Corisanda, as I haue already recited. Now had Gandalin heard all this talke that had passed, & seene how the three knights were departed, whereup­pon hee went to M [...]refluer, to de­clare the same vnto Oriana & Ma­bila, who were very much disquie­ted with this new defiance that the Gy [...]ts had sent vnto the King. Neuerthelesse Oriana sayde vnto Gandalin. In good [...]ooth, seeing that Corisanda now hath Florestan so much at her commandement, considering the vehement loue that she doth beare vnto him, mee thinkes shee should bee very glad thereof, and long may she so con­tinue, for she is a most sober, and wise, and vertuous Lady, and such a one that deserueth it well. Say­ing so she began to weepe, & with a deepe sigh, she sayd. A [...] fortune why doest thou not yet permit me to beholde my Lord Amadis, one onely day? I besee [...]h thee either to grant me this good, or to spare my life no longer, because my soule doth loath it. Herewithall shee became so sad, that it greatly pittied Gandalin to beholde her, who notwithstanding dissembling his griefe, faigning not to be con­tent with this talke, answered her: M [...]dame you must not bee offen­ded if henceforth I come no more in your presence: for I did alwaies hope that my Lord Amadis would haue returned hither again every shortly, and now hearing you [...]n these [...]armes, I am quite depriued of this benefit. I pray thee good friend Gaudalin sayd shee, be not angry, I swear to thee by my faith, that if I could looke with a merr [...] ­er countenance, I would willingly doe it, but I cannot otherwise do: for my heart yet remaining in con­tinuall heauinesse, will in no sort permit me, and were it not for the consolation which thou hast giuen me, I assure thee that I should not haue the power to stand vpon my feet, so much doe I feele my selfe grieued with this warre that my father hath vndertaken, the suc­cesse whereof I doe exceedingly feare, by reason of thy Master his absence. Madame answered Gau­dalin, hee shall not now bee any where so secret, but that hee shall haue newes thereof: and I am ve­ry sure, that notwithstanding all the disgraces and disfauours that you haue done vnto him, by dis­charging him from your presence, yet will hee not faile to be there, knowing that it is a thing of great importance both vnto the King & you: not that hee will presume to come before you, but hee will make himselfe knowne in place where hee may doe you seruice, in hope that you will pardon him for the fault that he neuer did, no [...] euer thought to doe. God grant sayd Oriana, that thy words proue true. And as they were in these discourses, there came a Gentle-woman who told Oriana that the Damosel of Denmarke was ariued, and shee hath brought vnto you many faire presents. Then feare & hope seased vpon the Princesse heart, in such sort, that without power to answer one worde, shee [Page 76] began to tremble, the which Ma­ [...]ila perceiuing, she answered the Gentlewoman: friend will her to come in hither all alone. The gen­tlewoman returned to performe her charge, but in the meane time beleeue mee, neither M [...]bila nor Gandalin knew how to behaue thē ­selues, beeing either hopelesse of the good, or fearefull of the bad newes that the Damosell of Den­marke might bring. Who shortly after entered in with the counte­nance of a person more pleasant then pensiue: and after her duty done vnto Oriana, shee presented her with a Letter from Amadis, saying vnto her: Madame, my Lord Amadis recommendeth him must hūbly vnto your good grace, whom I haue found, as this Letter (written with his owne hand) will assure you. Oriana receiued the Letter, and as she thought to haue opened it, her spirit was so raui­shed with exceeding ioy, as all the parts of her body remained with­out any power, or ability once to moue or stirre, because they would supply no other office, but to par­ticipate in this most happy newes: so that Oriana therewithall fell down in the place where she stood. But very suddenly shee was raised vp againe, & she opened the Let­ter, wherein shee found the ring that she sent vnto Amadis by Gan­dalin, at the same time that hee fought with Dardan at Winsore, which she presently knew. Where­fore in kissing it shee sayd so loud that she might easily be heard: O ring diuinely kept, blessed be hee, that euer did make thee so fortu­nate, giuing from hand to hand all the pleasure that may bee desired, then put she it vpon her finger, and beganne to reade the Letter. And when she beheld the sweet words that Amadis vsed, & the the thanks that he did yeeld vnto her, for the careful remembrance that she had of him, by the which he was raised from death to life, there was neuer any woman more ioyfull, and ca­sting her eyes vp to heauen, shee said: O God of heauen and earth, creator of all things, praised be thy holy name, because thou hast vouchsased in mercy to looke vp­pon mee, by the diligence of this Gentlewoman. Herewithall shee withdrew her selfe apart and tooke the Damosell of Denmarke by the hand, saying vnto her: I pray you faire Lady tel me how you did find him, how long you haue bin toge­ther, and the place where you haue left him. By my faith Madam answered the Damosell, after my depar­ture from you, I ariued in Scotland, where I remained certaine dayes without hearing any news of him, by meanes whereof (beeing as it were voide of hope to satisfie your desire) I tooke shipping intending to returne vnto you: but wee had so sore a tempest vpon the Sea, that mauger all our Mariners, the ship was driuen vnto the poore Rocke, where my Lord Amadis thē remained. Whom at the first sight we did not know, for he was chan­ged in name, habite, and counte­nance, and hee was likely to haue died in our presence, when in a manner hee was not succoured by any of vs. Notwithstanding in the end I was ware of a wound that he had vpon the face, the which was heretofore giuen vnto him by Ar­calaus, wherby I still suspected that it should be he, and in the end hee manifested himselfe vnto me. And continuing her discourse, shee recited wholly all that which you haue heard in the beginning of this History. Then loue & pitty assai­led [Page 77] the heart of the Princesse, in so strange a manner, that she entrea­ted the Gentlewoman to speake no more of the troubles of Amadis: but onely to tell her how hee did at that present. Madame, answered shee, I haue left him in the Forrest, staying to heare some newes from you. And how may wee secretly send vnto him, saide Oriana: for if you returne vnto him so suddainly, there might some matter bee sus­pected. For the same occasion, an­swered the damosel, I haue brought with me Durin, whome I will send back when it shall please you, fai­ning that I haue forgot parte of the presents that I brought vnto Mabila. It is very well aduised, said the Princesse. Afterwards shee de­clared vnto her, how Corisanda gaue vnto them the first hope that Amadis was not dead, and that hee it was that named himselfe the Faire Forlorne. It is true, answered the Damosell, and hee is yet so cal­led, neither is hee determined to change his name, vntill hee haue first seene you, except you com­mand him the contrary. That shall then be very shortly, saide Oriana, for his cosin and I haue taken such order, that hee may come hither when it shal please him and not be perceiued by any body. We haue the key of this gardē (by the which the way shal be easie and secret for him) the which wee will send vnto him by Durin, therefore call him vnto vs, to tell him what Amadis must doe at his hither arriuall. Hereupon Durin came vnto them, & Oriana shewing him the garden, said vnto him. Durin doest thou see this orchard, Amadis must enter in­to it ouer the corner of this wall, & when hee is once in, heere are the keyes of the dore thorow which he must come vnto vs, the which thou shalt carry vnto him, and shall fur­ther aduertise him, whatsoeuer thy sister shall tell thee in my behalfe. Which said, she departed leauing them together, and as soone as she was entred into a great Hall, shee forthwith sent vnto the Damosell, willing her to bring those presents which the Scottish Queene had sent vnto her & Mabila, the which she did. But as shee vnfolded the clo [...] wherein they were wrapped, (as if shee had suddainly bethought her selfe) she cried. Alas Madam, I haue left the tokens that were sent vnto Mabila, there as we did lie the last night, and if Durin do not speedily returne, they may be in dangar to be lost: now Durin knew the mat­ter well enough, and therefore hee made as though hee were vnwil­ling, and on the other side, Mabila faining to be very angry, said vnto him: Durin my good friend, will you do me this pleasure, to returne and fetch that which your sister hath forgotten? Madam, answered he, I will do whatsoeuer you shall please, but by my faith, I could bee very well content, that it would please you to appoint some other to doe it, because of the toyle that we haue indured in our wearisome iourney. My friend, said she, I pray thee do so much for me, & be thou sure that I wil reward thee: in good sooth, saide Oriana, it were greate reason so to doe, I vnderstand you well enough, answered Durin, al­though you mocke mee. At this word they all began to laugh, see­ing the counterfait discōtentment that he made to returne back. Well goe to, said hee, seeing that I must beare this flout with mee, I will tomorrow morning depart. Thē they all retired, and Durin went to Lon­don to see Gandalin, vnto whom he declared all that you haue heard: [Page 78] afterwards he departed to returne vnto the Abbie where Amadis remayned expecting newes from Oriana. Neuerthelesse before hee departed, Gandalin willed him to tell Euil his Cosen, that he should endeauour himselfe to serue the faire Forlorne diligently, and that whilest he remayned with him, hee should likewise enquire after some newes of Amadis: and this mes­sage did Gandalin send vnto him, to cause him the lesse to suspect him in whose seruice hee remay­ned, that Amadis might the more secretly bring his matter to passe.

CHAP. XIII.

BVt because wee will not too much di­gresse from that which happened vn­to the Faire Forlorn, you shall vnderstand, that after he had made some small stay in the Monestarie where he was left to waite for newes from Oriana, hee found himselfe very able to put on armour: and therefore hee sent Enil to buy him horse and armour with 2 shield of Sinople, set full of golden Lions. Who returned vn­to him the selfe same day that Du­rin arriued at the Abbie, where he was well entertayned by the Faire Forlorne, who in the presence of Enil demanded of him, where he had left the Damosel of Denmark his sister: my Lord answered hee, at her departure from you shee forgot behinde her certaine pre­sents, that the Queene of Scotland did send vnto my Lady Mabila, the which I doe come to seeke. Then turning vnto Enil hee sayd, Enil your Cosen Gandalin recom­mendeth him very heartily vnto you. Which Gandalin answered the Faire Forlorne. My Lord said Enil, hee is a Cosen of mine, that long time hath serued a Knight called Amadis of Gaule.

Then the Faire Forlorne with­out further enquiring tooke Durin apart, who did wholly recite vn­to him all that which he was com­manded to tell him on the behalfe of Oriana, and how shee stayed for him at Mirefleur, being very well determined to giue him kind entertainement: likewise what order was taken for his secret comming and going, when and as often as hee pleased, and also how his brethren Galaor, Florestan, and Agrates his Cosen, remay­ned at the Court, expecting the battaile that is to bee performed very shortly, betweene King Lis­uart, and Cildadan of Ireland, es­pecially the challenge of a com­bate that Famongomad and the o­ther Gyants and knights had sent vnto the King, if hee would not giue Oriana to be a waiting maide vnto Madasima, and to be marri­ed shortly after to Basigant the el­dest sonne to the sayde Famon­gomad. When the Faire Forlorne heard this discourse, his heart [Page 79] was ready to breake with extream rage: purposing with himselfe, that the first enterprise that hee would vndertake (after hee had seene his Lady) should be to finde out Famongomad, and to fight with him, for the iniury that hee would doe vnto Oriana. After that Durin had thoroughly aduertised him of all that hee had in charge, hee tooke leaue of him to returne vnto Mirefleur, leauing him in the Abbie, fully determined from thenceforth to abate the pride of these Gyants: beeing glad not­withstanding in that hee had re­couered the good fauour & grace of Oriana, on whom his life and honour did wholly depend. Then the next morning before the breake of day, he armed him with the same Armour that Enil had brought, and mounting on horse-backe, hee tooke the way towardes Mirefleur: but hee had not rid­den farre, (thinking vpon the plea­sure that was promised vnto him, and knowing how neere hee was vnto it) when making a carreer he beganne to curuet and mannage his horse so gallantly, that Enil was greatly amazed thereat, thin­king that hee had neuer beene o­ther then an Hermite, and he said vnto him: my Lord, vntill I may iudge of the effect and force of your courage, I may very well say that I did neuer see a more expert knight, nor one that can doe more with a horse then you. Enil, an­swered the Faire Forlorne, it is the valiant hearts of men, not their outward shew, that doth accom­plish haughty deedes and hardy enterprises, therefore thou hauing said thy mind by my countenance, mayest iudge hereafter of my cou­rage according as I shall deserue, thou and discerne.

Thus rode the Faire Forlorne all the day long discoursing with E­nil of diuerse pleasant matters, for those gloomy cloudes which in times past had ouer-shadowed his thoughts, were now ouer-blowne, and the desire to beholde her by whom hee liued, shined on­ly in his minde. But when it grew to bee somewhat late, hee lodged in the house of an ancient knight, that both gaue him kinde enter­taynement and great cheere: ne­uerthelesse the next morning hee departed. And because he would not be knowne at any time, at his departure from his lodging hee put his helmet vpon his head, ne­uer putting it off but when hee tooke his rest, and hee did ride from that time forth seauen dayes together without finding any ad­uenture, vntill vpon the eight day following, hee arriued at the foot of a mountaine, and hee did see comming towardes him along a path, a knight mounted vpon a mighty courser, who seemed so great and so strongly made that hee was almost like a Gyant. Who comming somewhat neere, he cal­led vnto the Faire Forlorne: knight I forbid you to passe this way, ex­cept you doe first tell mee that which I desire to knowe. There-withall the Faire Forlorne did pre­sently knowe him (although hee had neuer seene him before) for the shield which he did beare had in a field Azure three flowers Or, the like whereof he remēbred that he had seen in the Firme-Island, & that he was Don Quedragant. For the which hee was very much dis­pleased, as well because he had not determined to fight, vntill he had first found out Famongomad, as also because hee would not in any sort disobey the commandement that [Page 80] Oriana had sent vnto him by Du­rin: and hee greatly feared such a let, knowing that Quedragant was one of the best knights in the world: neuerthelesse hee made himselfe ready for the Ioust. The which Enil perceiuing, hee sayde vnto him: my Lord I beleeue that you will combate this Diuell. Hee is no Diuell, answe­red the Faire Forlorne, but one of the strongest knights I knowe, of whom I haue heretofore heard great commendation. Then Que­dragant drew neere and sayde vn­to him: Knight, you must tell me whether you belong vnto King Lisuart or not. Why so sayd the Faire Forlorne. Because sayde he, that I am mortall enemy to him and all his, and when I shall ei­ther knowe or meete with any of thē, I will cause them to die an e­uill death if I may.

The Faire Forlorne was so great­ly enflamed with rage to heare him thus to menace, especially the King and all his Knights, that hee answered Quedragant: You then are one of them that haue defied that good King? I am euen the same sayde hee, that will doe all the iniuric that possibly may bee done both to him and his. And how are you called? answe­red the Faire Forlorne. Don Que­dragant sayde hee. Trust me Don Quedragant answered the Fair For­lorne, although you are a valiant Knight and descended of a Roy­all linnage, yet haue you enter­prised an exceeding great folly, in defying thus the most mighty and best King in the worlde: for eue­ry discreete knight ought to at­tempt no more then hee may well effect, seeing that they who doe once passe the bonds of their a­bility, and power, are to bee ac­counted more haire-braind then hardy, and more vaine-glorious then valiant, the which is no bet­ter then folly. As for mee I am no subiect but rather a straunger vnto the King against whom your quarrell is: yet haue I alwaies had a desire to doe him what seruice I could, and therefore you may ac­count mee of the number of those whom you doe defie, and com­bate with mee if you list, other­wise followe on your way. Be­leeue mee sayde Quedragant, I thinke the little experience you haue of mee, maketh you to vtter these braues: notwithstanding I would very willingly know your name. I am called answered hee, the Faire Forlorne: but I thinke for the small renowne that yet is blased abroade of mee, you doe now knowe mee as well as you did before. And although I am a straunger, yet haue I heard that you doe seeke Amadis of Gaule: neuerthelesse I beleeue it were most for your profit, not to meete with him, considering but what I haue heard reported of him. What sayd Quedragant, dost thou thinke better of him (vnto whom I doe wish so much hurt) then of mee? Trust mee thou shalt repent it, therefore defend thee if thy heart will suffer thee. Although (answered the Faire Forlorne) that against another I would haue bin content for this time to haue ex­cused mee from the combate, yet will I very gladly vndertake it a­gainst you, for the threatnings & presumptions that you doe offer vnto me.

This sayd, they ran one against the other with so great force that the horse of the Faire Forlorne was likely to haue list the groūd with his nose, & himselfe was wounded [Page 81] in the right breast with the shiuer of a Launce, and Don Quedragant vnhorsed and wounded betweene the ribbes. Yet hee rose vp a­gaine lightly, and drew his sword running against the Faire Forlorne, whom hee tooke vpon a sudden whilest that hee was busie in men­ding and setting his helmet right: and before that hee was aware, Quedragant slew his horse vnder him, but the Faire Forlorne feeling him to founder, alighted downe. Then hee being exceedingly vex­ed for so vilde a part, hee sayd vn­to Quedragant: knight, it seemeth that you haue neuer done any va­liant deeds of armes, in that you haue so villainously slaine my horse, it might haue sufficed you to haue wreaked your anger on mee, and not vpon a poore beast. Neuerthelesse I am in good hope that the wrong which you haue done both to him and mee shall redound vpon your owne head. Don Quedragant answered him not one word, but couering him with his shield, he came and layd at the Faire Forlorne, who in a short time made him feele how well hee could repay whatsoeuer was lent vnto him: and to heare them fight, one would haue iud­ged that more then tenne knights had been fighting together. Then ioyned they so close that they left their weapons, and fell to wrast­ling, endeauouring to throw one another downe, but that was im­possible for them: wherefore they let goe their holde, and with­out any breathing, they betooke them againe to their blades, and layd loade one vpon the other so couragiously, that their Esquires beholding that cruell combate, did thinke it impossible but that they should both twaine die by the hands of each other.

And thus they continued from three of the clocke in the after­noone vntill it grewe towardes night, without either resting them or speaking together: but euen at the same instant Don Quedragant was so wearie and faint, that his heart failed him, and he fell downe in this place. By meanes where-of the Faire Forlorne stepped vnto him, & as hee pulled off his helme to strike off his head, Quedragant taking ayre beganne to breath: the which the Faire Forlorne percei­uing (although hee was ready to performe with his arme, the re­uenge that he meant to take of his enemy) hee stayed his blow, the sworde being ready to lop off any limme vpon the which fal­ling downe it might chaunce to light: and hee sayde vnto Quedra­gant, it is hight time for thee to think vpon the health of thy soule, for thou art but a dead man. Whō Quedragant perceiued that he was in such daunger, hee was so asto­nished that hee answered vnto the Faire Forlorne, Alas if I must die, yet at the least let mee first be con­fessed.

If thou wilt liue any longer said the Faire Forlorne, yeelde thy selfe vanquished, and promise to per­forme all that I shall commaund thee. I will willingly fulfill what-soeuer shall please you, answered Don Quedragant, although I am not vanquisned: for hee is not ouercome that without shewing one iot of cowardise, hath defen­ded his quarrell euen with the losse of his breath, and vntill that he did fall at his enemies feet: but he onely is ouercome, that for want of heart, feareth to doe what he may. Truely said the Faire For­lorne you speake the very truth, and [Page 82] I am very glad that I haue learned so much of you. Goe to, sweare to me thē to obey my cōmandement. The which Quedragant did. But the Faire Forlorne called his Esquires to witnesse, and then sayd: I will that at your departure from hence, you goe vnto the Court of king Lisuart, from whence you shal not depart, vntill the same Amadis (that you seeke bee there arriued. Then you shall yeelde your selfe vnto his mercy, pardoning him for the death of your brother King Abies of Ireland, for that as I haue heard, they both of their owne free will challenged each o­ther, and had Combate toge­ther, so as this reuenge ought not to bee pursued. Moreouer I will that you giue ouer the chal­lenge that you haue made against the King, and those that serue him, without bearing armes heereafter against any one of them. All which conditions Quedragant promised to performe, although it was to his great griefe. Then he commanded his Esquires to prepare a litter for him, to carry him vnto London, ac­cording to his promise. In like sort the Faire Forlorne hauing seazed vpon the horse of Quedragant, instead of his owne that was dead, deliuered his shield vnto Enil, and followed on his way: vpon the which hee behelde foure young Gentlewomen that were flying with a Marlin, who had both seene the Combate, and heard all the talke of the two Knights: and for the same cause, they spake vnto the Faire Forlorne, earnestly entreating to come and lodge in their Castle, where hee should bee entertained with all the honor that might bee deuised, for King Lisuart his sake, vnto whose ser­uice hee had shewed himselfe so affectionate. The which offer of theirs hee refused not, for hee was weary with the great trauail he had sustained al the day. And as soon as he was come into his lodging, they themselues vnarmed him, to see if hee were in any sort dangerously wounded: but hee had no other hurt then that vpon his brest, which was a matter of nothing. Three whole daies together did the Faire Forlorne tarry there, and then de­parted, riding all day long with­out finding any aduenture, and the night following he lodged in a lit­tle Inne that stood on the way, from whence he departed the next morning very early, and about mid-day hee came vnto the top of a small hill, from whence he might behold the citty of London, and the castle of Mirefleur, where his Lady Oriana remained.

Heere withall he was surprised with exceeding ioy. neuerthelesse, hee fained as though he knew not the Countrey where hee remai­ned, and demanded of Enil if he did know it. Yea very well, my Lord, answered Enil, beholde yonder is the citie of London where King Lisuart at this present remai­neth. In faith, saide the Faire For­lorne, I would be very sorry that either he or any other should know mee, vntill my deedes deserue it, and that by my deedes of Armes I might be thought worthy to be in such an assembly. Therefore goe thou to see the Esquire Gandalin, from whom Durin did of late bring the commendations: and see that thou doest wisely enquire what e­uery one saith of me, as lso when the battaile of King Cildadan shall be performed. What? answered E­nil, shall I leaue you all alone? Care not thou for that, sayd he, I haue beene many times accusto­med [Page 83] to go in that sort: yet before that thou doest depart, let vs espy together a fit place where thou maist find meat thy returne. Then they rode on a little further, when vpon a sudden they beheld close by the side of a riuer two pauilli­ons armed, & in the midst of them a most faire tent. Before the which were many knights & Ladies spor­ting, and ten other knights armed for their guard: and there was ne­uer a pauillion that had not fiue shields hanged vp, and as many Lances standing before it. Here-withall the Faire Forlorne fearing to bee disturbed of his enterprise, would auoid the combate & took his way vpon the left hand. The which the knights perceiuing, cal­led vnto him, saying, that he must needes giue one stroke with the Launce for the loue of the Ladies. But he answered them that at that instant hee had no desire thereun­to. For sayd he, you are fresh and many, and I alone, and very wea­rie. Beleeue me sayd one of them, I thinke rather that you feare to lose your horse. And why should I lose him sayd the Faire Forlorne. Because sayd the knight, hee must haue him that doth throwe you downe, & I am sure that your losse were more certaine then the gaine that you should get vpon vs. See­ing it is so, answered hee, I had ra­ther depart, then come into any such danger, which said, he passed on. Truly sayd the knights, in our iudgements your armes are defen­ded more with faire wordes then valiant deeds, so that they may e­uer bee sound enough to place o­uer your Tombe when you are dead, yea although you should liue one hundred yeares and more. You may thinke of mee what you please answered the Faire Forlorne, yet cannot that in any sort demi­nish my reputation. I would it were your pleasure, sayd one that stepped somewhat before his fel­lowes, that you would breake one­ly one staffe with mee, I would be accounted a traytor, or not in one whole yeare to mount vpon a horse, if you departed not by and by to seeke your lodging without yours. Sir answered hee, it is that which I doe feare, and which cau­sed mee to turue out of the high way. At this they all began to laugh, and to scoffe him saying, behold the valiant champion, that spareth himselfe against a battaile: yet for all this the Faire Forlorne made no account, but followed on his way vntill he came vnto a riuer side, but as hee would haue passed ouer, he heard a voyce that cryed: stay knight, stay. Then he turned his head and looked backe to [...] who it was, and perceiued a [...] ­tlewoman, in very good [...] moūted vpon a Palfrey co [...] towardes him, who at her arri [...] said vnto him, Leonor daughter to King Lisuart, together with her Gentlewómen, doe all desire you to maintain the Iousts against these knights, and to shew that you will doe something for the loue of La­dies. How? answered hee, the daughter of the King, is she there? I truely answered the Gentlewo­man. Beleeue me sayde the Faire Forlorne, I should be very sory to haue a quarrell with any of her knights, for sooner would I doe them seruice for the honour of so faire a Lady. Notwithstanding seeing that it is her pleasure that I should otherwise do, I am cōtent: vpon this condition, that they re­quire no more then the Ioust only. Hereupon he tooke his shield, and Lance, and rode straight vnto the [...] [Page 86] should finde him at his returne from London. And as they were in this sorte discoursing together, they perceiued vpon the same way a cart which was drawne with twelue horses and guided by two Dwarffes, within the which were many armed knights inchained, their shields were hanged all a­long the sides thereof, and a­mongst them were Ladies & Gen­tlewomen that cryed out, & wept most pitifully: before whom mar­ched a Gyant armed with plates of fine steele, hauing vpon his head a marueilous bright shining helme. But hee seemed to bee so great, that it would haue feared a­ny man to behold him, & he rode vpō a mighty black horse, holding in his right hand a Bore-speare, the head whereof was more then a cubit in length, and there follow­ed (behinde the cart) another Gy­ant farre more monstrous then the first, of whom the Damosels of the fountaine were so much afraid, as they fled to hide them amongst the bushes. At the same instant the Gyant which marched before (seeing how the Ladies that were in the cart did teare the hairs from their heads, for it seemed by their furious behauiours, that they ve­ry willingly would haue procured their owne death) sayde vnto the Dwarffes, If you cause not these girles to hold their peace, by loue you villaines, I will make a thou­sand peeces of your entrails, for I would haue them charily kept, to sacrifice them vnto the God that I adore. When the Faire Forlorne heard him, hee presently knewe that it was Famongomad, who was wont to cut off the heads of all those that hee might take, and to shed their blood before an Idoll that hee had in the burning lake, by whose counsell hee was gouer­ned in all his affaires, & although hee then had no desire to fight, as well because he would not faile to be at Mirefleur (according as Ori­ana had willed him) as also because he was wearie, and tyred with the encounter that he had had against the ten knights, yet knowing the persons that were in the cart, a­mongst whom was Leonor the Kings daughter, her Gentlewo­men, and the ten knights that hee had ouerthrowne, hee determined either to die or deliuer thē, know­ing what grief the losse of her sister would be vnto Oriana, whom Fa­mongomad and his sonne did take at vnawares, and all the rest of her traine, in a manner as soone as the Faire Forlorne had left them, and in this sort they had bound and fette­red them in the cart, that they might afterwards most cruelly put them to death. For this cause hee willed Enil to giue him his armes. My Lord sayd he, doe you not see these diuels that are comming to­wards vs? For Gods sake let vs be­gone and hide vs from them, then may you arme your selfe at ease, for I would not tarry their com­ming for all the wealth in London. I will doe better if I may, sayd the Faire Forlorne, I will first try my fortune, and although thou doest thinke them diuels) thou shalt see them slaine by one onely knight: for their life is so odious before God, that hee will giue mee the strength to reuenge (as I hope) all those miserable cruelties which they from day to day doe com­mit.

Alas my Lord sayde Enil, you will wilfully lose your selfe: see­ing that if twenty of King Lis­uart his best Knights had vnder-taken that which you alone thinke [Page 87] to doe, yet might they hardly e­scape with honor. Care not thou for that, answered hee, if I should let such an aduenture passe before mine eyes, and not bee an actor therein, I were vnworthy euer to come into the company of good and vertuous men, and therefore whatsoeuer may chance thereof, I care not. This said, he left Enil wee­ping, and went vnto that side where he might easily beholde Mirefleur: because the remembrance of Oaia­na, was still present before him, and he bagan to say. O my Lady and onely hope, neuer did I enter­prise any aduenture, the which I haue not by your means atchiued: and now that I knowe you are so neere vnto mee, and that it is for a thing that so much importeth you, forsake mee not I pray you, in this extreamity. Herewithall he imagi­ned that his strength was redoub­bled, and setting apart all feare, hee went toward the cart, and said vnto the Dwarffes: stay you base slaues, for you shall all die, and your mai­sters also. When the Gyant heard these threats, hee entred into such fury, that the smoke proceeded from his eyes, in such sort, as it see­med they had beene on a fire, and hee did shake his bore-speare with such force, that he almost doubled both ends together. Then hee an­swered the Faire Forlorne. Vnhap­py and vnfortunate wretch, how durst thou bee so bold to come be­fore me? Yet hee made as though he heard him not, but couched his Launce, and setting spurres to his horse, he smote the Gyant a little beneth the wast, with such strength, as pearcing the ioynts of his har­nesse, the Launce entred into his tripes with such exceeding force, that passing quite through, it hit against the hinder part of the sad­die, and broke the gi [...]s of the horse, ouerthrowing both [...] and saddle euen in a moment [...] uerthelesse before the Gyants [...]all [...] he couched his bore speare, thin­king to haue hit the Faire Forlorne, but it missed him & stroke thorow his horses flankes: wherefore he feeling that hee was wounded to death, did very himbly alight downe. and although that Famon­gomad was in like sort deadly woū ­ded, with the great rage that hee felt, hee rose vp, and with both his hands hee pulled forth the troun­chon of the Launce that stucke in his body, and threw it at the Faire-Forlorne with such extreame fury, that hee thought to haue ouer-throwne him, and so greatly did he straine himselfe to hurle the same, that the tripes came out of his bel­ly, and he tumbled ouer and ouer. Therewithall he cried. Basigant my deere son reuenge the death of thy sorrowfull Father if thou canst. At this crye Basigant approched, hol­ding a weighty bill, wherewithall hee thought to haue strooken the Faire Forlorne, but he stepped aside, and the blow passed by so forcibly, that if it had hit him it had clouen him quite asunder. Then the Faire Forlorne being very ready, and ex­pert, stretched forth his arme, and stroke the Gyant so great a blowe, that hee cut the one halfe of his legge away, although that with the great fury wherein hee remai­ned, hee could not as then feele it, but lifted vp his bill, the which turned in his fist, which was a hap­py chance for the Faire Forlorne; who receiued the blowe vpon his Shielde, within the which it entered so farre, that the Gyant could not pull it forth And as hee striued to get it out, hee rai­sed him vpon his stirrops to haue [Page 88] the more strength. By the meanes where of, the sinues of his legge, which were cut a sunder fayled him, wherewithal he felt such great greefe, that (not being able to keep his sadle) he kissed the ground with his nose: and in falling, the Faire Forlorne stroke him another blow vpon his right arme, so that he was forced to forsake his bill, and leaue it in the power of his enemy. Not­withstanding his hart was so great, that hee rose vp againe and drew forth his sword, that was maruai­lous long, with the which he layed at the Faire Forlorne with all his strength, and hee strained himselfe so much, that the blood issued frō his wounds, in such great aboun­dance, that all his strength fayled him, and he fel down together with his blow, which lighted vpon the stones, wherewith the sword brake in two pieces. The which the Faire Forlorne perceiuing, hee stepped a­side, and set his hands vnto the bill in such sort, that by force hee pul­led it out of his shield, wherewith he stroke so great a blow vpon the Giants helmet, that he made it flie from his head: but the Giant with that little remainder of his sword, that hee yet helde, pared away the top of his helmet, together with a little of the skin and haire of his head, the which blow if he had stro­ken somewhat lower, hee had cut his head off. Therewithal they that were in the cart, thought that the Faier Forlorne had beene wounded to death, and himselfe was so asto­nished, that hee thought his dayes to bee ended, wherefore desiring to bee reuenged, hee gaue him such another great blowe with the bill, that hee cut off his eare, with halfe of his face, with the which he yeelded vp the ghost. During all this combate, the Princesse Leonor and all her company, were deuout­ly praying for the good successe of the Faire Forlorne: who seeing that he was dispatched of Basigant, tur­ned vnto Famong [...]mad, who had behelde the death of his sonne, for whome hee made so great mone, that he was likely to haue gone mad. And although that hee was likewise at the point of death, yet notwithstanding hee had throwne his helmet from his head, holding both his hands before his wound, to keepe in his blood, that thereby he might prolong his life, the more to blaspheme God and his saints: not being sorry for his death (as he said) but because that he had not in his life time, destroyed al the chur­ches wherein he had neuer entred. And he cryed as loud as he could: Ah thou God of the christians, it is thon alone that hast wrought the meanes, that both I and my sonne (who were mighty inough to ouer-throwe one hundred of the best knights in the world) are slaine by the hand of a most wretched and feeble villaine. And as hee would haue proceeded in his his blasphe­my, the Faire Forlorne stroke off his head from his shoulders, saying: Receiue thy reward for all thy cru­elties which thou hast committed against a number of people. And spurning him vpon the belly with his foote, hee said: Now get thee vnto all the Deuils, who haue long expected thy comming. Then he tooke vp Basigant his Helmet, and threw downe his owne which was broken. Enil in like sort brought vnto him Famong [...]mad his horse, vpon the which he mounted, and came both to vnbinde the priso­ners, and to doe his duty vnto the Princesse Leonor, who gaue him great thankes for his good helpe. In like sort so did all the [Page 89] rest of the company. Now had the Giants tyed all their horses at the tayle of the Cart: wherefore the faire Forlorne went to seeke out the Princesse her Palfrey, the which he brought, and mounted her vp­on the same, commanding all the rest to take euery one their owne horse, and to get them to London, and to carrie vnto king Lisuart the bodies of the two Giants, and Ba­sigant his horse, which will serue him well in the battaile against king Cildadan. But the Knights an­swered him, sir who shall wee say hath done this good for vs? you shall tell the king said he, that it is a strange knight, who is called the faire Forlorne: and you may both declare vnto him at large the cause of the combat that I had with the Giants, as also the great desire that I haue to doe his Maiesty all the seruice I may, whether it be a­gainst king Cildadan or any other, herewithall they layed both the bodies in the Cart: but they were so great, that their legs trayled a­long vpon the ground more then six foote, and taking leaue of the faire Forlorne, they went towardes London, praising God, and the good knight that preserued them from death. But by the way Leo­nor and the yong Gentlewomen that were with her (forgeting their passed perill) made them garlands of flours which they set vpon their heads in entring into the Citty: thē the people wondring to see the Giants, followed the Cart euen vnto the castle, to vnderstand who had done such valiant deedes of armes. The king did already know that his daughter was arriued, and how shee brought with her two dead Giants, wherefore he went downe into the Court with the Queen, and many knights, Ladies and Gentlewomen with them, to see what the matter was: the which the Princesse Leonor recited vnto him, together with all that you haue already heard, whereat euery one wondred. And euen as shee had ended her discourse, in came Don Quedragans, who yeelded him prisoner into the kings hands, as being sent thither by the faire For­lorne, the which increased in all the assistants, farther desire to know him, that lately had done so many knightly deeds. And the king said, in good faith, I doe greatly mer­uaile what he may be: but is there none of you that doe know him. And it was answered him no: say­ing that Corisanda Lady and friend to Don Florestan had found in the poore Rock (as heretofore she had declared vnto many) a sick knight that was named the faire Forlorne. I would said the king, that he were in this company, beleeue mee that he should not depart from vs, for any thing that hee would demand of me.

CHAP. XIIII.

AFter that the Prin­cesse Leonor and her trayne, had taken their leaue of the Faire Forlorne, he re­turned towards the Gentlewomen whom hee had found hard by the fountaine, who hauing seene the victory which hee had atchieued, had already forsaken the bushes, & came to meete him. Then he com­manded Enil to get him to London vnto Gandalin, and that during his abode there, he should cause such another armor as that of his owne was, to be made for him, because they were all to broken and batte­red with the blowes that he had re­ceiued in the former combats: moreouer that he should not faile to returne vnto the fountaine of the three chanels vpon the eight day following. Thus Enil depar­ted from him, and on the other side the Faire Forlorne (hauing ta­ken his leaue of the Gentlewomē) rode through the Forrest, and they tooke their right way to Mireflure, where being arriued, they decla­red to Oriana and Mabila, the dan­gerous combat, and glorious vi­ctory that was performed in their presence by a knight called the Faire Forlorne, When Oriana knew for truth that he was so neere vnto her castle, ioy and extreame plea­sure, accompanied with a most feruent desire, entred into her im­magination, in such sort that vntil she had him in her armes, she ne­uer lost sight of the high way that led from the Forrest, by the which he was to come. By this time was the Faire Forlorne alighted from his horse, hard by a little Riuer, staying vntill it were night: for he would not be seene by any, at his entring into Mireflure. Then hee put off his Helmet, and laide him downe vpon the grasse: and there-withall hee began to thinke vpon the instabilitie of Fortune, and vp­on the miserable despaire where­in (not long before) he remained when with his owne hands, he was ready to haue effected his death: and also how he was not only now restored to his former felicitie, but also aduanced to greater honour, glory and contentment then be­fore, knowing that he was so neere that ioy which hee should receiue with his Lady Oriana. In this co­gitation remained the Faire For­lorne vntill after sun set, when hee mounted on horseback, and came vnto the place that Durin had as­signed him, where he foūd him to­gether with Gandalin, who stayed there for him to take his horse. Thē he alighted down, & demanded of them, what the ladies were doing, my Lord, answered Gandalin, they are on the other side, in the gardē, [Page 91] where they haue already staied for you more then foure houres. Help me then to get vp. The which they did: and hee being vpon the wall, beholding Oriana and Mibila, on the other side (hauing not so much patience as to stay for their helpe) he leaped from the top of the wall downe to the ground, and as hee would haue kneeled to haue done his dutie, the Princesse ran to em­brace him, and in kissing him she was like to haue fallen in a swound betweene his armes. But who could imagine the pleasure that they yeelded the one vnto the o­ther? Amadis hee trembled like a leafe not being able to speake one Word, holding his mouth close vnto Oriana [...]s: who as it were in an extasie did behold him with such an eye, that it made them both twaine to liue and die together. In this sort they remained more then a good quarter of an houre, and euen vntill that Mabila smiling, said vnto Oriana: Madam, I pray you at the least before my cosin do die, let vs haue a sight of him if it please you. Soft and faire, answe­red Oriana, let mee a while alone with him, and then you shall after-wards haue him at your pleasure. Herewithall Amadis saluting Ma­bila, said vnto her. My good Co­sin, this is not the first day that you haue knowne how much I am yours. I beleeue you well sir, but my Lady would haue you wholly to her selfe. Alas, said she haue I not reason, seeing that I alone was likely by my fault, to haue beene the causer of his losse? Beleeue me deere friend, the griefe which you felt and the teeres that you haue shed (by the fault that I commit­ted) shall be now both acknowled­ged, and thorowly recompenced. Madam, said Amadis, you haue ne­uer been at any time, but the pro­curer of all my happinesse and fa­uor, and if I haue felt any tribulati­on, I, and not you, haue been the causer thereof: therefore haue I iustly sustained, whatsoeuer sorrow I haue suffered. Alas sweete loue, answered Oriana, when I thinke vpon the estate wherein Corisanda and the Damosell of Denmarke did finde you, and the abundance of teares and lamentations that con­tinually distilled from your eyes (as they haue told me) I assure you that yet my mind is troubled ther­with. Madam, said hee, the teares wherof you speake, were no teares▪ for long before the comming of Corisanda to the poore Rock, the spring whereof was dried vp: but it was an humor proceeding from my heart, the which did so conti­nually burne in your loue, that be­ing constrained by the force of the flame, it did draw vp to the eyes that moysture, which nature had placed about the heart to preserue it, and to giue it life: and I beeleue that if the Damosell of Denmarke had stayed from bringing me that reliefe which I receiued of her, in steede of teares which distilled from mine eyes, the soule it selfe had departed. Sweete loue, said the Princesse, I know well that I committed a great errour in wri­ting that letter which Durin did bring to you, but you should then haue remembred how that all wo­men are weake, and very light of beleefe, especially in things where­in they are affectioned, and where­in by too extreame loue they are often times carried away, & made suspitious, euen as I haue beene a­gainst you, wherefore the greater that mine offence is, the greater praise shall you win in pardoning me: the which I beseech you to do, [Page 92] being ready to receiue such pu­nishment therefore, as it shall please you to giue vnto me, and to satisfie you at your owne discre­tion. Alas Madam, said Amadis, it is I that should demand pardon of you: for if I should die for your loue, most pleasant would that death be vnto me. But this much I assure you, that I had neuer beene able to haue resisted this great sor­row that I haue suffered, had it not beene that my martiredome was eased (knowing the pleasure which you would receiue in the same) that it tooke such force vnto it, as death was not of sufficient power in any sort to bring it to an end. Let vs leaue off this talke for this time said Mabila, you haue both suffered wrong, determine there­fore henceforth how it may be re­compensed: and now to eschue the vapours of the night (which may be vnto you somewhat hurt­full) let vs retire vnto some couert. I like your counsell well answered Oriana. Therewithall Amadis was brought into her chamber, and presently Mabila and the Damosel of Denmarke (knowing that they should do them a pleasure to leaue them alone) went forth, faining to goe about some other affaires. Then the princesse requested A­madis to sit downe in a chayre co­uered with veluet, which stood in a corner of the chamber, and she stood leaning vpon him, that shee might at more ease kisse him, and hang about his necke: whereupon he being ouercome with an ex­tream amorous passion, left off his wonted modesty, thrusting one of his hands into Oriana her prettie breasts, and the other towards the place by him most affected: where-with Oriana halfe ashamed in stret­ching her selfe along, because she would not looke in his face, saide vnto him, My deere loue, I be­leeue that the hermit of the poore Rock, taught you not this lesson, Madame answered hee, I beseech you to pardon my rashnesse, take­ing pitty of me, and seeing that both time and place is so fauoura­ble vnto vs, be not you more con­trary vnto me then they, but suf­fer mee to continue that fauour, wherof by your good grace I haue taken possession, when I deliuered you from the handes of Arcalaus. My ioy, answered Oriana, you know that I am so wholly yours, that you cannot dispose of your selfe more then of me, neuerthe­lesse how may I possibly at this time satisfie your desire, seeing that your Cosin, and the Damosel of Denmarke are so neere vnto vs? Alas said he, they haue hitherto been the cause of my life, and now since they haue farther assisted me do you thinke that they will desire my death? Assure you Madam that they are already so well acquain­ted with our affections (especially the Damosell of Denmarke) that although they haue not seen them effected, yet it mny be they haue presumed as much and more: ther­fore I beseech you (in acquiting you of your promise) to succour me. Which said, hee gaue such large scope vnto his passions, that notwithstanding all the faint resi­stance that Oriana could make a­gainst him, hee had that of her which he most desired, tasting to­gether of the sweete fruit, which they did first sow in the Forrest, at such time as Gandalin was gone to seeke for some victuals for them: as you haue heard in the first booke. And although that Oria­na made refusal thereof at the first, yet Amadis vsed her so courteous­ly [Page 93] that before they departed from the place, they determined to con­tinue their sport, whilst they had so good oportunity, and from thenceforth not to bee in any doubt eyther of Mabila or the Da­mosell of Denmarke. Eight whole dayes did Amadis remaine at Mi­refleur with Oriana, leading a life as pleasantly as they could wish, during all the which time he was not seene of any, except of those that were the meanes of his bring­ing thither, as it hath beene tolde you, for all the day long hee was close with the Ladies in the cham­ber, and when the euening appro­ched they came forth into the gar­den, where often times after many amorous discourses, Amadis alay­ed the heate of his fire (by the sweete embracings of Oriana) at the musick of the birds, who chan­ting out their pleasant notes, were witnesses of the pleasure that these two louers receiued, vnder the shade of the little young Trees, wherewith this place was suffici­ently stored. Now did Gandalin euery day go and come from Lon­don to Mireflure, to bring newes, from the Court: so that one time amongst others, hee told Amadis that the Armour which by Enil he had caused to bee made for him, would bee very shortly finished. Moreouer hee told him, that the King was in great doubt for the battaile which he had enterprised against king Cildadan: for the most part of those that hee had to deale withall, were cruell Giants, and without reason, and therefore hee had stayed Galaor, Florestan, Agrai­es, and Don Galuanes, to assist him in that encounter. Who (said Gan­dalin) are so angry for the famous report that is spread abroad, of the Faire Forlorne to the disprayse of Amadis, as if they had not already passed their promise to the king, seeking not to enterprise any combat or voyage before the bat­taile, they had beene already vpon their way to haue sought him out to fight with him, and they secret­ly giue it out, that if they doe e­scape aliue, they will not rest vntil they haue both found him, and fought with him. In good faith, answered Amadis, they shall see me the sooner if God please, but it shal be after another manner then they hope for: wherefore do thou returne to the Court, and I arne if any thing hath since happened. Herewithall Gandalin departed, who went directly to London, where hee found the king ready to sit downe to dinner, and euen as they were taking vp the Table, there entred in a very antient Gen­tleman, attended vpon with two Esquires, apparrelled both in one liuery. This old mans beard was shauen, and the hayre of his head was white with age, who came and kneeled before the king, and salu­ting him in the Greeke tongue (in which countrie he was borne) hee said vnto him. It may please your Maiesty, the high renowne that is spread in all parts of the world, of the knights, Ladies and Gentle-women that are in your Court, hath beene the only cause that en­forced me to addresse my iourney hither, to see if in the same I may finde that which this threescore yeeres I haue sought in diuerse countries farre and neere, to small purpose. Therefore most renow­ned Prince. I beseech your Maie­sty to be pleased, that to finish my trauaile, I may make a proofe of the knights, Ladies and Gentle-women in this assembly, the which (as I thinke) will neyther be hurt­full [Page 94] nor displeasing eyther to your Maiesty, or to any other. Then all the Lords that were present, desi­red to see a thing so rare, intrea­ting the king to grant his request, the which he easily condiscended vnto, therewithall the ancient Gentleman tooke from one of his Esquires, a little cofer of Iasper, which he did carrie, which was in length about three cubits, and in breadth a shaftmont, and it was garnished with Gold, and the most curious damaske worke in the World: this little cofer he o­pened, afterward he tooke out of it a Sword, so strange, as the like was neuer seene, the scabberd ther­of was made of two bright shining bones, and as greene as any fine Emeraud, so as the blade was to be seene through it, not after the manner of other blades, for the one halfe of it shewed meruailous bright, and the other seemed, as if it burned, being as red as fire, and it hanged in a Belt of the same stuffe as the scabberd was of, so cunningly made, that any man might easily gird it about him. This Sword the Gentleman did hang about his necke, that hee might likewise take out of the co­fer a kercheif, the one halfe where-of, was be set with floures as fresh and greene, as if they had beene e­uen then newly gathered: and the other halfe was couered with o­ther violets, as withered and dry, as if they had beene ten yeeres in the Sun, neuerthelesse both the one & the other seemed to spring from one and the selfe same roote: wherewithal the king being abash­ed, demanded of him how these things might bee. If it like your maiesty answered the old man, this sword cannot bee drawne forth of the scabbard, but onely by that knight that amongst all louers, is the most constant, and that doth best loue his Lady: and as soone as hee shall haue it in his hands, that part which burneth shall be­come as cleere and bright as the rest, so as the blade shall bee all of one colour. In like sort if this kerchiefe bestrewed with so ma­ny flowers, be set vpon the head of such a Ladie or Gentlewoman that doth loue her husband or friend with the like constantnesse, the withered and drie floures shall appeare againe, of a most fresh and liuely colour: and your Ma­iesty may be pleased to know, that I cannot be made a Knight, but by the hands of this perfect louer that shall draw forth this Sword, neyther may I take armes but of her that shall deserue this pretious kercheife. For this cause haue I these threescore yeeres continual­ly sought in many strange Coun­tries for those by whom I ought to receiue knight-hood, but yet hi­therto I haue trauailed in vaine, & now prosecuting my voyage (in a manner for my last refuge) I am come into your Court imagining that euen as it farre exceedeth the Courts of all other Emperors and kings, so I might in like sort in the same find that which in all others I haue failed of. I pray you saide the king, let mee know the reason why the fire that remaines in the one halfe of this blade, doth not burne the scabbard. It may please your Maiesty, answered the olde man, betwixt Tartaria and India, there is an arme of the Sea which is so hot, that the water thereof (beeing meruailous greene) boiles as if it were vpon the fire, and in the same there is brought forth a kinde of Serpents more great then Crocodiles, the which doe flie very [Page 95] lightly, by reason of their long wings, but they are so infectious, that euery one shun them so much as they possible may. Notwith­standing when a man findeth any one of them hee esteemeth of him as a thing much worth, because they are profitable for diuerse me­dicines, and these Serpents haue a bone that reacheth from the neck to the tayle, the which is so great, that vpon the same is formed al the whole body which is greene, as you see by this scabberd, and fur­niture, for as much as they are bred vp (as I haue said) in this bur­ning sea, no heate of any other fire may hurt them. Thus hath your Maiesty heard the strangenesse of this sword, and of the scabberd, now I will tell you of the floures of this kertchiefe. In the same Coun­trie of Tartarie, there is also an I­sland enuironed with the most strange and dangerous gulfe that is in any part of all the Sea. By meanes whereof (although the floures of these two branches, are rare & pretious) yet there is no mā so valiant that dare goe to gather them: but if it so chance, that any one be so madde as to aduenture himselfe therein, and if hee may bring them away, assure your Ma­iesty, he selleth them at as great a price as he pleaseth: for amongst other singular vertues that they haue, this is one, that whosoeuer doth charily keepe them, they doe neuer leaue their greenenesse, and liuely colour, as you may behold in this kertchiefe. And seeing that I haue declared vnto you the ex­cellency of these Iewels, it may please your Maiesty likewise to vnderstand who I am, and after what sort I came by these thinges. I beleeu that you haue many times heard speaking of Apolidon, who in his time, was one of the best Princes of the Earth, he it was that did beautifie the firme Island, with many rare and singular things, as euery one knoweth, my Father was his Brother, and king of Ganor who being in loue with the daugh­ter of the king of Canonia, did be­get me of her. And when I was of sufficient age to bee made knight, my father commanded me, seeing I had been cōceiued with far more perfect and loyall loue, then euer was any other prince, that I would not in like sort receiue knight-hood, but by the hand of the most faithful louer that might be found in all the World, neyther to take armes, but from that Lady, or Da­mosell who should loue her hus­band or friend, with the like con­stancy as the knight doth. The which I both promised and swore vnto him to performe, thinking to accomplish his will very easily, on­ly in going to mine Vncle Apoli­don and Grimanesa his wi [...]e, to­wards whom I went: neuertheles, my misfortune was such, that I found Grimanesa dead, wherefore Apolidon (knowing the cause of my comming) was very sorrowfull. For Grimanesa being deceassed, else where very hardly might I finde (as he told me) that which I had promised vnto my Father, the succession o [...] whose Crowne was denied vnto mee except I were a knight, as by the statute and ordi­nance of his Realme was appoin­ted, and therefore mine Vncle wil­led me to returne vnto Ganor, and that within one yeere following, I should come againe vnto him: during which time hee would en­deauour to finde some remedy for the foolish enterprise which I had vndertaken: and according to his appointment I returned. Then he [Page 96] gaue me this Sword, and kerchief, by the which I might know those whom I was to finde, telling mee that seeing had beene so rash in my promise, therefore I should from thenceforth trauaile so long vntil that I finding such a constant knight and Lady, had accompli­shed whatsoeuer my Father was commanded. And thus your Ma­iesty may see the reason of my long trauaile and search, therefore if it like your Highnesse, you may trie the Sword first, and your knights afterward. And in like sort the Queene and her Ladies, may prooue what shall bee the e­uent of the kerchiefe, and he or she that shall finish these aduentures, shall possesse the Iewels as their owne, I gaine rest thereby, where-of I shal reape the profit, and your Maiesty honour and renowne a­mongst all other Kings and Prin­ces, hauing found that in your Court, of the which I haue fayled in all other Countries. Thus the old man hauing ended his dis­course, there was not any that were present, who did not gene­rally desire to see the matter in proofe: and although the king was as desirous to see the triall there-of as any other, yet did he defer it off vntil the fift day following, vp­on the which day, was the feast of Saint Iames to be celebrated, and the more to make it manifest, he sent for a great number of his knights. For the more full my Court is (said the king) the more is the likely-hood to haue this ad­uenture throughly tryed. Vnto the which determination euery one a­greed: all this discourse did Ganda­lin heare, who by good fortūe was not 1. houre before arriued at Lon. But so soone as the Conclusion was agreed vpon, he got againe to horse-back and rode forthwith to Mireflure, where he found the faire Forlorne playing at Chests with O­riana, who seeing him returne so suddainly, shee demanded of him what new euent was chanced in the Court. Madam, answered he, I am sure that you will bee wonderfull glad to vnderstand what it is. And what is it said Ortana? then Ganda­lin recited all the whole discourse of the olde Gentleman, with the strangenesse of the sword and ker­chiefe: as also how the king had put off the proofe thereof vntill the feast day of Saint Iames next ensuing. During all this long dis­course, the Faire Forlorne became more pensiue then hee was accu­stomed to bee, which Oriana straight perceiued, neuerthelesse she made no shew thereof, vntill Gandalin and the company were departed, and that shee came and sat downe vpon the knees of the faire Forlorne. Then shee kissing him and hanging about his neck, said vnto him: My loue I pray you tell mee whereupon you mused, whilst Gandalin declared vnto vs the newes at London. In faith Ma­dam, answered the faire Forlorne, if my will were to my wish, you and I should all our life time after liue in more rest and contentment then hitherto we haue done, for the kerchiefe should be yours, and the sword mine, and so all suspiti­on and iealousie should neuer more raigne betwixt vs. What sweete loue said she, do you doubt that I would not gaine the Ker­chiefe if it were by firme loue to be gained? No Madame, answered he, but I did feare, because the try­all is to bee made in the king your Father his Court, that you would make it difficult to enterprise the same, and yet I know that I am a­ble [Page 97] both to carrie you thither, and bring you back againe (if it please you) so that none that doe see vs, shall know who we are, My Lord said she, you know that I will obey you all my life long, and that you may dispose of me at your pleasure so as I doe more feare the danger whereinto these Gentlewomen may fall, if wee should be discoue­red, then any of our owne, and me thinks it were good to heare what their opinion is, before we vnder-take any thing. Whatsoeuer shall please you Madam, answered the faire Forlorne, that do. Then shee called Mabila and the Damosel of Denmarke, who were talking with Gandalin, vnto whom they decla­red all that you haue heard. And although that vndoubtedly the danger was very great, neuerthe­lesse the gentlewomen seeing that they whom it did neerest touch, were (as they thought) most for­ward therein, they would not speake that which they thought thereof, and answered Oriana that in troth she should nener in all her life, haue the like occasion to win the most pretious Iewell in the world. Well said the Princesse, v [...]to the faire Forlorne, doe then what you thinke best. I will tel you answered hee, how wee may goe I will answered Enil (who as yet doth not know what I am) to tell the King, that a strange Knight with his Lady will make triall of those Iewels, if it so please his Ma­iesty to giue them safe conduct, that nothing shal be said nor done vnto them against their wil, which granted I will conduct my Lady disguised in strange apparell, ha­uing a very fine laune or cipresse before her face, thorow the which she may see euery one, and yet shall not she bee knowne of any, and I being wholy armed with my beuer downe, will leade het. By my faith, said Mabila, your enterprise is great: but I haue a garment that my mother did lately send vnto me by the Damosell of Denmarke, of the rarest fashion in the world, which will be fit for this purpose, and if it please my Lady, wee will presently try it vpon her, herewith­al they went for it, which being brought, she and the Damosell of Denmarke apparelled her there-with, after so strange a manner, that they all began to laugh, see­ing the Princesse so disguised, and whatsoeuer the faira Forlorne had before determined to doe, they thought might now be very easily performed. Whereupon they forth-with commanded Gandalin to go buy some faire Palfrey for Oriana: and that hee should not faile to bring him to the end of the Castle wall of Mirefleur, the night before the trial of these Iewels was to be performed, and further that he should aduertise Durin to bring his horse the same euening into that place where hee first alighted when hee entred into the garden. For I wil depart, said he, this night to goe vnto the Fountaine of the three channels, where Enil is to meete mee, whom I will forth-with send vnto the King, to pur­chase out safe conduct. Thus Gan­dalin departed, who did effectual­ly performe whatsoeuer was com­mitted to his charge. Therefore so soone as the euening was come, the faire Forlorne tooke his leaue of the Ladies, who brought him vnto the foote of the garden wall, and sliding down on the other side, he found where Durin held his horse, vpon the which he mounted, ta­king his way towards the Eorrest, and about the breake of day he ar­riued [Page 98] at the fountaine, where with­in a while after E [...]il came bring­ing with him the Armor which he had caused to bee made, with the which he armed himselfe, and then demanded of him what newes there was in the Court. My Lord, answered hee, euery man there speaketh of your prowesse: and there is not any one but is very de­sirous to be acquainted with you. Then falling from one speech to a­nother, hee began to tell him the newes of the old Gentleman, who had brought the Sword, and the Kerchiefe, Trust me, said the faire F [...]orne, it is now foure dayes ago, since a Gentlewoman aduertised mee thereof vpon this condition, that I should cary her to the court, to make triall of this aduenture, therefore I am constrayned to go thither, neuerthelesse thou know­est how much I desire, not to bee yet knowne of the King, not of a­ny other, vntill my deedes do giue them further testimony of my va­lour then yet they haue. For this cause thou must returne vnto Lon­don to tell the King, that if it please him, to giue security vnto a Gen­tlewoman and me, that nothing shall be eyther said or done vnto vs against our wils, we will come to make trial of the stranger his re­quest: but faile not in like sort to aduertise the Queene and her La­dies how the Gentlewoman con­strayneth mee to conduct her thi­ther, according to the promise that I haue made vnto her, and that otherwise I would not haue come there, and after thou hast fulfilled my commandement, faile not in any case to returne hither the night before these Iewels must be shewed. In the meane season, I will goe seeke the Gentlewoman who is somewhat far from hence: and according to the answere that thou shalt bring vnto vs, wee will eyther go forward, or return back againe. Then Enil departed, and the faire Forlorne tooke the way to Mirefleur, where hee arriued as soone as day was shut in, and there he found Durin ready to receiue his horse. By whose helpe hee got ouer the wall, and entred into the garden where Oriana, and the o­ther gentlewomen were, of whom he was most courteously entertai­ned: but when Mabila espied him comming, she said vnto him: what is the cause my good Cosin, that you are more braue now, then you were this last morning? Haue you met with any good booty of late? You know not the meaning there-of, answered Oriana, hee went of purpose for this faire Armour thinking to escape by force from this prison wherein we kepe him. Is it true? said Mabila, if you deter­mine to fight with vs, see that you be well aduised first, for you haue somewhat to do, And in this sort iesting together, they came vnto the Princesse her chamber, where his supper was brought vnto him: for all that day he neyther had ea­ten nor drunken, fearing least hee should haue been discouered.

CHAP. XV.

AS soone as the faire Forlorne was returned to Mirefleur, he told Oriana how Enil was gone to the Court according to their determination concluded the day before. Wher­upon the Princesse desirous to know an answere, and also to pro­uide all things necessary for their safety before hand, shee sent the Damosell of Denmarke vnto the Queen to certify her Maiesty, that because she found her selfe some-what ill at ease, it would please her grace to hold her excused, if shee could not as yet come and do her dutie vnto her Highnesse. So the Damosell departed, and returned not vntill it was very late, for shee stayed the arriuall of the Queene Briolania, to meet with whom the king himselfe did go, and she came into the court with one hundred knights, ready to begin the search of Amadis, according to the ap­pointment of Galaor and Florestan, and therefore she was determined not to depart from Queene Brise­na, vntil they were returned again, neyther would she nor her women bee apparrelled with other Gar­ments then of black cloth, vntill he were found, for such weeds did she weare at such time as hee did make her Queene, and now would shee neuer change her manner of life, if he were lost. In your iudg­ment said Oriana, is she so faire as the report goeth of her? So helpe me God, answered the Damosell, except your grace, she is the fairest woman, and of the best behauiour that euer I did see, shee was very sorry when she heard of your sick­nesse, and shee sendeth you word by me, that she will come and doe her dutie vnto you so soone as you shall thinke conuenient. Truely, said Oriana, I am more desirous to see her then any other that I doe know. Madam, answered the faire Forlorne, beleeu me she well deser­ueth that you should shew her all the honour you may, although heretofore you haue wrongfully sustayned some griefe for her sake: gentle loue, said the Princesse, for Gods sake, let vs speake no more of passed melancholies, for I am assured that I did thinke amisse. You shall yet be better assured, an­swered he, by the testimony that you shall receiue, of those Iewels which we shall gaine, the which will henceforth quite extinguish all those vnhappy fancies that you haue conceiued against me, if they should chance to returne againe into your thought, increasing in you the opinion of that zeale and dutie which I doe owe and beare vnto you. My Lord, said Oriana, I am well assured that the kerchiefe shall make you beleeue, that what wrong soeuer you receiued of me, proceeded of no other cause, but by the extreame loue which I did beare vnto you: we shall see short­ly said the Damosell of Denmarke, what will happen. For the king hath granted your request by Enil. [Page 100] In this sort did Oriana, and the test of her company passe away the time, vntill the day came wherein they must depart, to make triall of that which you haue heard, which caused her to rise about midnight, attiring her as the faire Forlorne had deuised, and hee likewise was armed at all points, that done they passed through the garden, and came to the place where Gandalin held their horses in readines. Then mounted they vpon them, taking their way toward the Forrest, right vnto the Fountaine of the three channels. But there Oriana think­ing vpon the enterprise which she went about, foreseeing the incon­uenience and danger thereof, not onely if she were disclosed, but al­so how if she failed in gaining the kerchiefe, Amadis might haue iust cause to suspect her, and by that meanes she might loose that good reputation which shee had gotten with him. Herewithall she began to repent her forwardnesse, and to tremble so extreamly, that the faire Forlorne perceiued it, who said vn­to her. Madam, had I thought you would haue been so ill at ease with this voyage, I sweare vnto you that I would rather haue died then haue brought you out of doores, therefore if it please you, let vs re­turne againe to Mirefleur. So say­ing, he turned his horse head, ne­uerthelesse Oriana considering that by her an aduenture so recom­mendable should bee deferred, changed her minde and answered him. I beseech you sweete loue not to take any heede vnto the feare that a timerous woman may haue in the middest of this great wood, but vnto the vertue and valor that remaineth in you. Very sorry was the faire Forlorne because hee had spoken in such sort vnto her, doubting lest he had offended her, and he said vnto her. Madam, see­ing that your discretion hath sur­mouted my [...]olly, I beseech you to pardon me: for I assure you, my meaning was not to speake any thing that should be offensiue vn­to you. As they had ended their conference, they came vnto the fountaine being yet an houre from day, where they had not long stay­ed before Enil came vnto them, whereat they were very ioyfull. Then the faire Forlorne saide vnto Oriana: Madame, behold the E­squire which I promised you to send vnto king Lisuart, by whose answere we may determin what to do. In faith my Lord, answered Enil, he sendeth you by me all the assurance that you demand, and further he aduertiseth you that the triall of the aduenture beginneth this day after his Maiesties com­ming from the Chappell. All the better said the faire Forlorne, wee shall then haue no great cause of stay. Hereupon hee gaue him his shield and launce, and without putting off his Helmet at all, they tooke the right way to London: the people had already heard that the knight which did ouercome the Giants should come vnto the kings lodging, they said one to a­nother: Heauens shield the faire Forlorne from all mischiefe, for he is worthy of great praise, and most happy may that Lady thinke her selfe, to whom he remaineth a ser­uant. These words might Oriana vnderstand very well, wherewith she was not a little ioyfull, know­ing that she was Lady & Mistris of him, whom so many people did both loue & honor: afterward they came and alighted at the Palace: where they found the king, Queen Ladies, and a great number of [Page 101] knights already assembled all toge­ther in a great hal, to make trial who should gaine the old mans Iewels. And as soon as they knew of the ar­riuall of the Faire Forlorne, the King rose vp with his traine to receiue them: wherefore the Faire Forlorne kneeling down would haue kissed his hands: but the K. lifted him vp, saying vnto him: My good friend, you are most hartily welcome hi­ther, where you shall be as free as you would wish, for you haue done as much seruice for me, in so small a time, as euer any knight perfor­med either for King or Prince. The Faire Forlorne answered not one word, but onely bowed himselfe to his maiestie in signe of thankes: and without stepping one foote from Oriana, (whom he held by the hand) they came towards the La­dies, who did all salute them very courteously. You may imagine if the young Princesse were not now in some feare to be discouered, be­ing in such an assembly, for the Queene her mother stepped vnto her, looking her stedfastly in the face, although it was couered with a laune, and she said vnto her. Gen­tlewoman, I do not know who you are, for to my knowledge I did ne­uer see you, neuerthelesse, for the loue of this knight (in whose custo­dy you are) that hath done the king so great sernice, assure you that in this place shal be shewed vnto you, all the honour and seruice that pos­sibly may bee. For the which the Faire Forlorne humbly thanked her Maiestie, but Oriana without spea­king one word held her head down continually. Therewithall the king and all his knights withdrew them to one side, and the Queene and her Ladies to the other. And in the meane time the Faire For­lorne leading Oriana by the hand, came and beseeched the King, that he and his Lady might remaine in the midst of the hall, for they were not determined to touch the Iew­els, except that all the asistance did first misse the gaining of them. The which the king did grant vnto him, who did first of all take vp the sword, which was layd vpon the table by the olde Gentleman na­med Macandon: and the King did draw it out one shaftmont and no more. Wherefore Macandon said. It may please your Maiesty if there bee not found in your Court any, more amorous then you are, I shal not depart from hence so conten­ted as I hoped to doe. There-withall he took the sword and laid it again vpon the table, for so must he doe after euery triall. Then Ga­laor tooke it vp, but yet he perfor­med lesse then the King did. The which Florestan, Galuanes, Grume­dan, Brandoinas and Landin seeing, they all one after another tryed what they could doe, and yet none of them could vnsheath it so much as Florestan did, who drew it sorth a foote and more: but then Guil­lan the pensiue tooke it, and he pas­sed Florestan about halfe a foote, so that hee came vnto the middest thereof. Trust me then, sayde Ma­candon, if you did loue but as much againe as you do, the sword should bee yours. After him there came more then a hundred Knights, who did little or nothing therin, where-upon Macandon [...]esting with them, called them heretiques in loue. Then Agraies who had staied to bee the last, beeing sure (as hee thought, considering the firme loue which hee did bare vnto his Ladie Olinda) that the aduen­ture was ordained for him and on other, stepped forth, and be­holding his Mistresse hee tooke [Page 102] the sword and drew it forth of the scabbard within 3. fingers breadth and as he strained himselfe to pull it quite forth, the fire issued from the blade so hot, that it burned part of his apparrel, so that he was constrained to leaue it there, being very ioyfull neuerthelesse, that he had performed more then any of the rest. Truly said Macandon you are a loyall knight, and you haue almost had occasion to bee con­tent, and I satisfied. Lastly Palomir & Dragonis approched, who were but the day before arriued at the court, and they gained no more then did Galaor: which caused Ma­candon to laugh, saying vnto them. My ad [...]ers, that you should put both of your parts in the sword to­gether, & it may be that you shall haue sufficient to defend you here­after. You say true answered Dra­gonis: but if you be this day made knight, you shall not be of so yong yeeres but that you may very well remember it hereafter. At that word euery one began to laugh, in the meane season there was neuer a knight remaining in the Court who did not put himselfe forward to gaine the sword, and yet it was all in vaine. Wherefore the faire Forlorne holding Oriana by the hand, came to take it vp: when Ma­candon said vnto him: knight this sword wil fit you better (if you may gain it) then that which you haue, & yet it cannot be gotten by force of Armes without constancy in loue. It must then be mine answe­red the faire Forlorne, who there-withall did draw it forth of the scabbard as easily as if it had beene his owne, and that part of it, which seemed to be burning, became like vnto the other, and was as bright as euer was seene.

Therewithall Macandon (excee­ding ioyfull) cast himselfe, at the feete of the faire Forlorne, saying, vnto him, O noble knight, God in­crease thy honour: for in ending my long trauaile you haue greatly honoured this Court. And truly that Lady who is serued of you, hath cause to loue you well, ex­cept she be the most mischieuous & dissoyalst woman in the world. Now therefore do me this fauour (if it please you) as to giue me the order of knighthood, for by no o­ther then you, may I obtaine it, nor yet enioy the signory which of right belongeth vnto me ouer ma­ny great personages. Cause first a triall of the Kerchiefe to be made, answered the faire Forlorne, and af­terward I will performe whatsoe­uer I ought to do vnto you. Then girded he the sword vnto his side, leauing his owne for him that would take it vp, and returned to the place from whence hee depar­ted. Great was the praise that all mē gaue vnto him: but more great was the emulation of Galaor and Florestan towards him, concluding in their minds that so soone as the battell against king Cildadan was finished (if they thence escaped with life) they would presently seeke him out, and chalenge him to the combat, wherin they would die, or else make it knowne vnto e­uery one that their brother Ama­dis was a far better knight then he, who (as they thought) did eclipse his honor, by the reputation whch he had gotten in gaining the stran­gers sword. At that instant the La­dies approched to proue which of them might obtaine the Kerchiefe, and first of all the Queene began, putting it vpon her head: not­withstanding the floures did not any whit change their colour for her: Whereupon Macandon [Page 103] said, Madam if the king your hus­band haue shewed the little loyal­tie that remaineth in him, in his triall of the sword, me thinks you do now well enough requite him for it. The Queene blushed and being halfe ashamed she returned to her place: then came the faire Queen Briolania, who therein per­formed as much as the first. Vnto whom Macandon likewise said. be­leeue me Madam, co [...]idering the great beauty wherewith you are indued, you are more beloued thē louing, as wee may plainely see by this kerchief. After her came foure kings daughters, meruailous faire Eludia, Estreletta, Aldena, and the sage Oliada, vpon whose heads the kerchiefe being placed, the withe­red floures began a little to flou­rish, so that there was not any one of them which did not imagine that she should be the owner there-of, wherwith Oriana was in a great perplexity. Yet in the end the floures returned to their withered colour. And for the same cause the Gentlewomen set them downe againe in their places: neuerthe­lesse it was not without receiuing some little frumpe from the olde Gentleman, who for one of his age could very fitly apply them. In the end Oriana perceiuing that euery one had failed, shee was very glad thereof, and therefore she made a signe vnto the faire Forlorne that he should leade her to the Table, where the triall was to bee made, but so soone as the kerchiefe was set vpon her head the blasted floures were as greene and as faire as those that were most fresh, so that there was no difference at all to be perceiued. Wherefore Ma­candon cried out: Ah Madam, you are shee whom I haue sought for fortie yeeres before you were borne, now said he to the faire For­lorne, I pray you sir deferre not the honour which is by you two due vnto me: but if you please (as al­ready I haue intreated you) make me knight, then of this faire Lady (according as I am bound) I will receiue my Armes. Let it be then presently said the faire Forlorne, for I am not to tarry long here. There­fore Macandon caused forthwith his Armour to be brought, where-with he was presently armd puting it vpō his white coate according as new knights are wont to doe, then the faire Forlorne, laying his sword vpon his shoulder, and fastning on his right spurre, gaue him his or­der, Oriana girded on his Sword which was in like sort brought by his Esquires. Which ceremony being finished, the Gentlewomen beholding him in that order, would in some sort bee reuenged for the flouts which he had giuen them, and therefore they all burst into a laughter, especially Aldena, who spake so loud that all might heare her.

Behold the countenance of this faire Lad how like a young knight hee looketh: Surely wee ought all to reioyce, because hee shal all his life long seeme as fresh and lusty as now he is. How know you that, answered Estreletta? By his apparrell said she, which shall euen last as long as hee. Faire Gentlewomen said Macandon, I would not change my pleasure for the best of your fauours: and if I am not so youthfull as you say, yet am I not therefore to bee tear­med lesse discreete, but as for you who are yet yong and foolish, it were good that you learne to bee more aduised and modest then you are. This answere of his pleased the King very well, who in [Page 104] no sort liked of the gentlewomens speeches. Whilst these thinges were in doing, the faire Forlorne was ready to depart, when the Queene who knew not her owne daughter, said vnto her, Gentle-woman although you are not desi­rous to be knowne in this compa­ny, yet bethinke you what it will please you to command either of the king or me. By my faith, Ma­dam, answered the faire Forlorne, I am as little acquainted with her as you, although shee hath beene seauen daies together in my com­pany, but for that little that I haue perceiued by her, I can assure you that shee is most excellent faire. Trust me faire Lady, said Briolania (speaking vnto Oriana) I know not your name, but considering the loyaltie wherewith you are endu­ed, if your friend doe affect you with the like constancy as you doe loue him, you may well bee tear­med the fairest couple that euer loue vnited together. Oriana smiled at the words of Briolania, when the faire Forlorne tooke his leaue, who seeing that the King would leade her towards her horse he said vnto him. Your Maiesty hath reason to honour her, by whom your Court hath this day beene more highly exalted, then euer heretofore by any other La­dy it hath beene. In good sooth answered the king, you say true, and therefore I will my selfe con­duct her forth of the Citty, in the which I could willingly desire that it would please her, (and you also) to make some longer abode. Say­ing so, they all mounted on horse-back, and the king held the raines of his daughters horse, speaking all the way vnto her, who answered him not one word againe, fearing to bee knowne. Galaor in like sort entertained the faire Forlorne. But he so much hated him for the rea­sons before rehearsed, that hee could not speake one courteous word vnto him, whereat the Faire Forlorne laughed seeing his bro­thers countenance, and thus they rode together a good way from the citty, vntill the faire Forlorne said vnto the King: I beseech your Maiesty (if it please you) to passe no further, otherwise you may chance to displease this Gentle-woman, beleeue me said the King, I will rather returne. Therewith­all he embraced him, and said, I would sir knight that it liked you, to be one of my knights. If it please your Maiesty, answered he, I will willingly bee one of the hundred that shall accompany you against king Cildadan. If you do me that fauour said the king, I hope that thereby our enemies would be no lesse discouraged then those on our part would be encouraged, & therefore I intreate you so to bee. Thus they departed, the king ta­king his way back to the citty, and the faire Forlorne with Oriana to­wards the Forrest, being very ioy­full that they had so well finished that dangerous aduenture. But they were no sooner ariued at the Fountaine of the three channels, when they beheld an esquire com­ming towards them mounted vp­on a strong horse, who at his a [...] ­uall said vnto the faire Forlorne▪ knight, Arcalaus commandeth thee that thou bring this Gentle-woman vnto him, which if thou deniest to accomplish, hee saith that he will himselfe come take thy head from thy shoulders. And where is Arcalaus? Answered the faire Forlorne. The Esquire shew­ed him where hee sate vnder a tuft of Trees, together with another [Page 105] knight, both twaine armed & rea­dy to mount on horseback. When Oriana heard this message, the poore soule was in such extreame feare, that shee was likely to haue fallen from her horse, wherefore the faire Forlorne said vnto her. How now sweete Lady, are you a­fraid of Arcalaus being in my keep­ing? no, no, hee threatneth to haue my head, and yet he shall quit him-selfe well if hee can saue his owne. Then he betook him to his armes, & said vnto the esquire, go, return vnto thy master and tell him, that I am a strange knight that knoweth him not, and therfore I will not do that. The esquire returned to Arca­laus who was so mad angry there-with, that hee said vnto the other knight which was with him, good nephew Lindora (que) go take the ker­chief from that Damosell, for I do giue it to Madasima your loue, & if he that conducteth her will cōtra­dict it, cut off his head forthwith, & afterwards hang it vp by the hair vpon the next tree. Therewithall Lindoraq went towards the faire Forlorne, who had heard all the words of Arcalaus, whereupon hee came to meete him. And although he seemed to be very great, as hee which was the son of Cartadaque, the giant of the inuincible moun­taine, begottē vpon one of the sis­ters of Arcalaus, yet did the Faire Forlorne make so little account of him, that he said vnto him, knight passe no further: wherefore? answe­red Lindoraq. Because said the faire Forlorne, it pleaseth me not. Thou wilt bee far more displeased when thou must lose thy head. Indeede said the faire Forlorne, so I would, but thou art more like to lose thine own, if thou keep it not the better. And without any longer debating, hee clapped the spurs to his horse, couching his staffe against Lindo­ra (que) & Lindoraq in like sort against him, so that they met one another with such force, that their launces (hitting in the middest of their shields) flew in shiuers. Neuerthe­lesse the faire Forlorne finding Lin­doraq at aduantage, vnhorsed him, and the truncheon of the stasse re­mained in his body, yet did he rise vp againe speedily, for hee was a knight of a stout heart, and behol­ding that his enemy turned to charge him againe, thinking to re­coile back to auoide his blow, hee fell downe ouer & ouer, so that the truncheon in his body passed fur­ther into him, with the extreame paine whereof, hee gaue vp the Ghost, Arcalaus who had seen his Nephew throwne downe, did sud­denly put his staffe in his rest to re­uenge him, and running against the faire Forlorne he had surely hit him, if hee had not turned some-what out of the way, but hee step­ped on the one side, letting Arca­laus passe by, and in his passing, he strooke him such a blow ouer the left hand, that hee cut off foure of his fingers leauing him no more then his thumbe to hold his shield which he was forced to let fall, the great paine whereof enforced him to fly as fast as his horse could run, without so much as once looking behind him, and the faire Forlorne after him, who made all the hast he could to ouertake him. Notwith­standing Arcalaus was so wel moū ­ted, that in lesse then an houre hee had so far gotten the start, that the Faire Forlorne wishing all the diuells in hell to follow him, re­turned againe to Oriana, and therewithall hee forthwith com­manded Enil to carry the head of Lindora (que) and the peece of Arcalaus his hand vnto the [Page 106] king, and that he should recite vn­to him at large vpon what occasi­on he was in such sort assailed. So Euil departed leauing Amadis and Oriana together, who shortly after arriued at Mireflour, where they found Gandalin and Durin staying without the garden walls, to take their horses when they should come: they came to helpe the Princesse down, and they told her that Mabila and the Demosell of Denmarke were on the other side of the wall in the Orchard. Here-upon they raysed vp a Luther, and Oriana mounted vpon it, whom the faire Forlorne led by the hand, when they were at the top of the wall they beheld Mabila and the Damosell of Denmarke lying fast asleepe vpon the grasse, very hea­uy with the feare that they had en­dured all the day, least matters should not sort to so good effect as they wished. Then Oriana called them shewing vnto them the Ker­chief which she had gotten, which so soone as they beheld they pre­sently ran to helpe her downe: and when shee was come into the Or­chard, Mabila said vnto her, Ma­dame, I neuer had greater dsire to see you returne, then I haue had e­uer since your departure from hence. For if you had beene disco­uered, the Damosell & I had been but in a bad taking: neuerthelesse we determined to arme vs withpa­tience. My good Cosin answered she, thankes be to God, all goeth well, I haue the kerchiefe, and your Cosin hath the sword. I, but thanke our Teares (said Mabila) by the which they were chiefely gotten. My Cosin said the faire Forlorne, I will not stick to shedde for you as much blood, as you haue for mee done teares, whensoeuer you haue neede of me, but I pray if you haue any thing to eate, bring it into my Ladies chamber, for we haue got­ten vs good stomacks. Herewithal he led Oriana by the hand into the castle. Now because wee will not digresse ouer far from that which happened to king Lasuart, we will leaue Oriana and her company at Mirefleur, to tell you what happe­ned vnto his Maiesty and Galaor, as they returned from the faire For­lorne, before they came back vnto the citty. For a yong Damosell did meete them, who deliuered vnto each one of them a letter, sent from Vrganda the Vnknowne, and with­out saying any other thing vnto them, she turned her horse toward that way from whence shee came. Wherefore the king opened his Letter which contayned this that ensueth. Vnto you Lisuart king of great Brittaine, such health & hap­pinesse as beseemeth your Royall Maiesty. I Vrganda the Vnknowne, your humble seruant, doe certifie you, that the battell which is ap­pointed betwixt you and king Cil­dadan shal be one of the most dan­gerous and cruellest that euer was seene, in the which the faire For­lorne, who hath newly giuen such great hope vnto your Maiesty shal lose his name, & by one blow that he shall giue, all his valiant deedes shall be quite forgotten, and then shall you bee in the greatest extre­mity that euer you were: for many good knights shall lose their liues, and you your selfe shal fall into the like danger, at that same instant when the faire Forlorne shall draw blood from you, neuerthelesse by three blowes which hee shall giue, those on his side shall remaine conquerors.

And be your Maiesty assured that without doubt all this shal happen therfore prouide for al your affairs [Page 107] with good aduise. After that the king had read this letter, although that he was a stout prince, valiant, and of a couragious heart, yet (knowing Vrganda worthie to bee beleeued in all her prophesies) he was afraid, doubting least the faire Forlorne in whom he most trusted, would reuolt vnto the side of the Ireland king, and knowing also what danger was likely to ensue, hee neuerthelesse dissembled the matter whatsoeuer he though ther­of. And after hee had a long while mused thereupon, he declared the whole circumstance of it vnto Ga­laor, saying vnto him. My faithfull friend, I doe wholly determine to impart this secret vnto you, and to none other, that I may vnderstand what is your aduise therein. Be­leeue me, if it like your Maiesty an­swered he, considering what Vr­ganda hath written vnto me, I haue more neede of counsell my selfe, then to counsell another, and if it were possible to conclude a peace betwixt you and the king of Ire­lana (prouided that your honour were not thereby to be impared) me thinks it should be for the best, or at least if that cannot be, it were good that you should not bee pre­sent in the battaile. For I do see in this Letter two strange accidents likely to fall out, the one is that the faire Forlorne, shal wound you so cruelly, that he shall shed your blood vpon the ground, and the other that by three blowes which he shall giue, those on his side shal remaine conquerors, and by this aduertisement it seemeth, that hee shall be against you. Truely said the king I am so throughly assured of your good will that I know you doe faithfully and louingly aduise me, so as if my trust were not in God (who hitherto hath bestowed innumerable fauours vpon me, as in chusing mee king ouer his peo­ple) or if I did not stedfastly belieue that no liuing man is able to with-stand his diuine determination, I should haue great reason to bee in doubt, but you know that the hearts & discretion of kings ought to bee answerable vnto the great­nesse of their estate and calling, endeauouring as well to preserue their subiects in safety, as to pro­uide for their owne security. And therefore I determine to remit all into the hands of my God, and pa­tiently to endure whatsoeuer dan­ger he shal lay vpon me, for in him only remaineth the disposition of things to come, for which cause my good friend, I assure you, that I will bee present in this battaile, for because I would be partaker of all the good, honor, or hurt that may happen vnto those which shall ac­cōpany me. Greatly did Galaor like of the kings magnanimous deter­minations and answered him, be­leeue me it is not for nothing that your Maiesty is estemed the most vertuous and valiantest Prince of the world, and if all kings could as well represse the counsell of those who disswade them from their haughtie enterprises, none durst be once so bold as to say any thing vnto them, but that which should bee for their honour and glory, but now your Maiesty may bee pleased to see what Vrganda hath written vnto me. Herewithall he began to reade his Letter, wherein was contained this which ensu­eth.

Vnto you Don Galaor of Gaule, most valiant and hardie Knight, I Vrganda the Vnknowne, doe send all hearty salutations, as she who both loueth and esteemeth you, & I will that you should vnderstand [Page 108] that which must happen vnto you, in this cruell battell betweene the two kings, Lisuart and Cildadan. If you be there be you sure that in the end thereof, your large and strong members, shall want power to as­sist your inuincible heart, & at the departure from the Combat your head shall bee in his power, who with the three blowes that he shall strike shall remaine conqueror. In faith said the king, if the contents of the Letter be true, and that you bee in this conflict, you see your death prepared, which should bee a great losse considering your va­liant beginning in deeds of armes, therefore I shall so order the mat­ter, as at this time you shall be ex­cused from thence. It may please your Maiesty, answered Galaor, I now do very wel perceiue, that the counsell which euen now I deliue­red vnto you, hath displeased your Maiesty, when seeing mee sound and able of body, you would per­swade me to a matter so greatly to my dishonour, God forbid that I should herein obey you. Gentle friend said the king, you speake both vertuously, and valiantly, for the which I thanke you: and for this time, let vs leaue off this talke, and my aduice is, that none do see our Letters, for (it may bee) they may cause some feare & astonish­ment euen in the hearts of those that doe thinke themselues to bee most hardy and valiant. By this time they were come so neere vn­to the Citty, that they entred vn­der the gate thereof, & as the king looked behinde, he beheld two knights armed at all points, whose horses were ouer-trauelled & wea­ry, and their armour all to broken, in such sort that it was very easy to be perceiued that they had been at some bickering. One was Brunco de Bon' Mer, and the other Branfil his brother, who came of purpose vn­to king Lisuart, to be of the num­ber of those hundred knights which should bee in the battaile, if it pleased him to accept of them. But by the way Brunco had beene aduertised, how the aduenture of the Sword was atchieued, where-with he was meruailous displeased that he came no sooner, because hee would haue tried his fortune therein, as he had done vnder the Arch of loyall louers, the which he had passed, and for the firm and constant loue that he did beare vn­to Melicia sister vnto Amadis, hee did verily beleeue that no such like aduenture might escape him: these two knights being come neer, did their dutie vnto the king, who re­ceiued thē very courteously. Then said Brunco, it may please your Ma­iesty we haue beene aduertised of a battell which you haue agreed to be executed by a few knights, & so much the rather ought they to be selected and chosen men. For this cause if it would please your high­nesse to doe vs this honor that we might be of the same number your Maiesty may bee assured that wee would bee very desirous to serue you. The King who had many times beene aduertised of the prowesse of these twaine, especial­ly of the valour of Don Brunco (who for a yong knight, was as much e­steemed as any other that might be found) accepted of them very willingly, and thanked them for their good will.

Now did not Brunco as yet know Galaor, but at the same instant they entred into such acquaintance and familiarity together, that vn­till the Battell was finished, they parted not asunder.

And as the king entred into his [Page 119] lodging, Enil came before him, with the head of Lindoraq which did hang by the hayre at the pai­trill of his horse, and he had in his hand the shield and fingers of Ar­calaus the Enchanter, by meanes whereof before he was come neer the Palace, a great number of peo­ple did follow him, to know what newes he did bring. Afterwards being come into the kinges pre­sence, hee declared vnto him the message that the faire Forlorne had sent by him, wherewith he was no lesse glad, then amased at so many good and blessed chanses that eue­ry day happened and proceeded from this strange knight, and hee remained a great while praising & extolling him without ceasing. In like sort Filipinel who had been to giue defiance vnto the Giants, at the same instant approched, & he recited the names and sirnames of those which were appointed to be in the battell of king Cildadan, a­mongst whom there were found many strong Giants, and other knights of great worth, who were all embarked already, and how be­fore that foure dayes were past, they would all take landing in the bay of Vega, where the battell was to be foughten, then hee told the king how he had found at the bur­ning Lake (which stands in the Isle of Mongasa) king Arban of North Wales, and Angriotta d'Estrauaux prisoners vnto Grumadaca wife vn­to Famongomad: who caused them to suffer infinit miseries and cala­mities, whipping them euery day most cruelly so that their bodies were wounded all ouer, and they wrote a letter vnto the king, which Filipinel deliuered vnto him, the tenure whereof ensueth. Vnto the most high and mighty Prince Lis­uart king of great Brittaine, and to all our Friends and Allies within his Dominions. We Arban once king of North wales, and Angriotta d'Estrauaux, now detained in do­lorous prison, doe let you know that our misfortune, more cruell then death it selfe, hath brought vs into the power of the most pitti­lesse Grumadaca wife to Famongo­mad, who in reuenge of the death of her Husband and Sonne, doth daily cause vs to bee tortured with so many and strange torments, that it is impossible to bee imagi­ned, so as euery houre wee desire the abridging of our daies, that thereby we might bee released of our dolors. But this mischie­uous womā, the more to lengthen our paine, deferreth our death as much as she may, the which with our owne hands we had effected, but that the feare of the losse of our soules withheld vs.

And for as much as we are at this present so extreamely wounded, that wee are no longer able to resist our deaths, we send you this Letter, written with our blood, by the which wee beseech God both to grant you the victory against these traitors, that haue in such in­humane sort tormented vs, and al­so that he will bée pleased to haue mercy vpon our soules. Great sor­row and compassion had the King for the losse of these 2. knights, ne­uerthelesse seeing that for the pre­sent hee could in no sort remedie their misfortun, he dissembled his griefe, shewing as good a counte­nance as hee could, & because he would in no sort discourage the o­ther Gentlemen there present, he set before their eyes the accidents whereinto many others had fal­len, for the maintenance of their Honour of Knighthood, from the which many times they haue with [Page 110] great glory and honour escaped. But assure you my friends, said the King, that if wee doe gaine the Battaile, I will take such reuenge hereof, that the rumor thereof shall fill the eares of all the people in the World. Therefore they who are appointed to goe with mee, let them bee ready to mor­row, for I will depart to goe meete mine enemies. And according as it was appointed so was all per­formed.

CHAP. XVI.

THree dayes did the faire Forlorne remain with Oriana after the gayning of the sword and Kerchiefe, and the fourth day following about midnight hee tooke his leaue of her, and being armed at all points, he rode all the night long. Now had hee commanded Enil to goe and stay for him at a Castle scitua­ted at the foote of a Hill, neere vnto the which the Battaile was to be foughten, and it belonged vn­to an ancient knight named Abra­dan: for in his house were all ad­uentrous knights often-times ho­noured and serued, when they came thither to lodge. And the same night did the faire Forlorne passe hard by king Lisuart his Campe not being perceiued at all, afterwards hee rode so long that vpon the 5. day following he came vnto Abradan his house, where he found Enil which was there ariued but a little before: greatly was the faire Forlorne feasted by his Host, and as they were talking together, there entred in two of his nepheus that were returned from the place where the combat should be who assured them that already King Cildadan and his troop, were there arriued, and had set vp their Tents and Pauillions hard by the sea side. In like sort Don Grumeda and Gion­tes Nephew to king Lisuart were there come, with whom a Truce was concluded vpon eyther part, to bee holden vntill the day of the battaile, and that neyther of the two Princes should enter into the Combat with any more then one hundred knights in his company, according as it was promised and sworne by them. Nephewes, said the host, what do you thinke of the Irish-men, whom God confound? Vncle answered one of them, they haue with them so many Giants, that if God doe not miraculously assist our good king, beleeue me it is impossible for him to withstand them. Herewithall the teares fell from their Vncles eies, and he said, I hope that God will protect the best and iustest king in the world, from falling into the hands of such wicked people. Mine host, answe­red the faire Forlorne, be not afraid as yet, for it happeneth out very often that courage and equity o­uerthroweth the pride and pre­sumption of the strongest. But I pray you goe vnto the king, and tell him that there is lodged in your house a knight called the [Page 111] Faire Forlorne, and that hee desi­reth his Maiesty to send word by you, when the day of the battaile shall be. What sayd the olde man, are you hee that of late did send Don Quedragant vnto his Court, and slew Famongomad and his son, when they had taken my Lady Le­nor and her knights? beleeue mee Sir, if euer I did any pleasure vn­to aduenturous knights, I doe e­uen at this present acknowledge me throughly to be recompenced, my house beeing now honoured with your presence, and I will not faile to accomplish that which it hath pleased you to command me. Then he mounted vpon his horse, and tooke with him his two Ne­phewes, and rode vntill hee came where king Lisuart was encamped, within halfe a league of his ene­mies, vnto whom he declared the message of the Faire Forlorne, at the which all the company did greatly reioyce. And the King answered: seeing that we haue the Faire Forlorne on our side, I doe also hope that wee shall haue the honor of the our enterprise. And now see the number of one hun­dred knights very well furnished, had wee but one knight more. It may please your Maiesty said Gru­medan, you now haue the aduan­tage, for the Faire Forlorne is well worth fiue. This speech did no­thing at all please Galaor, Florestan, nor Agraies, for they hated the Faire Forlorne vnto death, for the wrong which they thought he did vnto Amadis, neuerthelesse they held their peace, and Abradan ha­uing receiued his answere of the King, returned to his guest, vnto whom he recited the pleasure that euery one receiued at the newes that he brought from him, and of the hundred knights there was no more then one missing, but that they were all assembled. The which beeing vnderstood by Enil, hee did so much that he found his Master apart and falling downe vpon his knees, he sayd vnto him: My Lord, although my seruice vn­to you hath not beene such as it should, and therefore haue I no­thing at all deserued, yet am I so bolde at this time to request one gift of you, which I beseech you most humbly to graunt vnto mee. Demand it sayd hee, and rise vp. My Lord sayd Enil, I pray you thē make mee knight, to the end that I may goe vnto the King to entreat his Maiesty that hee will bee plea­sed to accept of mee for the last knight of his number. Friend Enil sayd the Faire Forlorne, me thinkes that thou shouldst beginne to try thy prowesse in a place lesse dan­gerous then this battaile will bee, not: because I would deferre to make thee knight, but in that I know it is too waighty a charge for thee. My Lord sayde Enil, I knowe that in all my life I cannot haue a better meanes to gaine ho­nour: for if I die amongst so ma­ny men of worth, my reputation shall bee thereby encreased, and if I may escape, my renowne shall be perpetuall, hauing been one in number with a hundred of the best knights in the world. The Faire Forlorne hearing Enil speake so vertuously, with a kind pittie that he had of him, he ruminated these words to himselfe. Thou dost well shew thy selfe to bee a kinsman vn­to the good knight Gandales my second father. Then hee answered Enil, if thou haue so great a desire to proue thy self such a one as thou sayest, I will no longer disswade thee. And therewithall he present­ly went vnto his host, and entrea­ted [Page 112] him to giue him an armour for his Esquire, who desired to bee made a knight, the which he gran­ted, wherefore Enil according to the custome, watched all night in the Chappell, and the next mor­ning about the breake of day, after seruice was ended, hee receiued the order of knighthood by the Faire Forlorne, which done they all mounted on horse-back, in the companie of Abradan and his two Nephewes, who serued them for their Esquires. In the end they arriued where king Lisuart had al­ready ordered his battaile, being ready to goe meete his enemies, who stayed his comming in a plaine field, but when the King be­held the Faire Forlorne, hee was ex­ceeding ioyfull, and there was not any in the company, whose cou­rage was not increased at his com­ming. Then hee approached neer vnto the king, vnto whom he sayd, it may please your Maiesty, I am come to accomplish my promise, and also I do bring another knight with me, for I was aduertised that your number was not full▪ where-withall the king gaue him most hearty thanks, and although there was not any one of the hundred knights, who were not all approo­men, and esteemed amongst the best, yet king Lisuart (after he had ordered his battallion, seeing his enemies aproached) beganne to make this Oration vnto his armie. My fellowes, louing friends and countriemen, I am sure there is not any one amongst you, who knoweth not very well, how wee haue vndertaken this battaile with great right, especially for the de­fence of the honour and reputati­on of the Realme of Great Brit­taine, which king Cildadan and those of Ireland would abase, in denying vnto vs the tribute which they haue time out of minde paid vnto our predecessors, for the ac­knowledgement of the fauours that in times past they haue recei­ued at their hands. Moreouer I am throughly assured that there is not any of you all, whose heart is not both valiant and inuincible, for which cause there is no need that you should bee further animated, or incouraged, against those with whom you are to encounter, ha­uing your honor before your eyes, which I knowe you doe more e­steeme then an hundred liues, (if it were possible that so many you might haue) one after another. Therefore then my deere friends let vs boldly march on, not respe­cting a small number of cruell and bloody minded Gyants, that are in their troupe, for a man is not to be esteemed the valianter by the outward appearance of his great, strong, and huge members, but by the magnanimious & cou­ragious heart that remaineth with­in him: you doe oftentimes be­hold the dogge to master the bull, and the sparrow hawke or hobbie to beate the kite. Our enemies trust in the force of these mon­sters, without hauing any respect vnto the wrong that they main­taine, and wee onely put our trust in God, who being the righter of all iniuries, will giue vnto vs suffi­cient strength to vanquish them, by the dexterity of our persons & our owne endeauours. Let vs boldly then march on my friends, euery one bearing this minde, that hee is able both to combate and conquer the proudest of their troupe, assuring you if this day we gaine the honour of the battaile, that besides the honour and glory that shalbe spread of vs thorow the [Page 113] whole world, neuer enemy to great Brittaine dare once hereafter be so bold as to lift vp his head to doe vs the least iniury that may bee. Thus did king Lisuart incourage his knights: and king Cildadan on the other side did the like vnto his, for he went from ranke to ranke to animate them, saying vnto them: Gentle knights of Ireland, if you vnderstand vpon what occasion you goe to fight, there is not one of you that will not blame his pre­decessor, for being so slacke in the vndertaking of so glorious an en­terprise. The kings of Great Brit­taine, Vsurpers and Tyrants (not onely towardes their subiects, but also vpon their neighbours) haue heretofore without any right, ex­acted vpon their ancestors such a tribute, as is very well known hath often beene payd, and for this cause wee haue made this assem­bly, and are come vnto this place to defend our liberty, which can­not bee paid by any treasure. It is your cause, it is your right, and not you [...] but your childrens, who vntill this present time haue beene held, and reputed by those whom you see determined like­wise to make you seruants and slaues. Will you then alwayes liue in this sort? Will you continue this yoake vnto your successors? are you of lesse courage, or of lesse substance then your neighbours? Ah if wee are conquerours they shall restore that which they haue had of vs. I am very sure that For­tune doth fauour vs, for you see what men of worth are come vnto our ayde, knowing our great right. Let vs resist them, let vs resist them valiant knights. I see King Lisuart and his troupe now in feare & rea­dy to turne their backs vnto vs. They are as they say, accustomed to vanquish, but wee will teach them to accustome themselues to be vanquished. One thing I would aduise you, that euery one helpe his fellow, keeping you as close to­gether as possibly you may. And longer would hee haue continued his Oration, if hee had not seene King Lisuart prepared to ioyne with him. Wherefore he retyred into the midst of his squadron, and sayd very loud, Now haue at them, since they will care, giue them cold iron enough.

At this cry euery man prepared to receiue his enemy, shewing by their countenance that they were men most hardy, and couragious. And formost of all did march the Faire Forlorne, accompanied with Enil, as also Galaor, Florestan, A­graies, Gandalac the Gyant (who stole Galaor away when he was but two yeares olde) and his two sons Bramandill, and Gainus, whom Ga­laor had newly made knights. Af­ter them Nicoran de Pont Craintif, Dragonis, Palomir, Viuorant, Gion­tes (Nephew to the King) the most renowmed Brunnio de Bonne Mer, his brother Branfill, and Guillan the Pensif, who all marched after old Grumedan, (a knight of honour belonging to the Queene) who carried King Lisuart his stan­dard.

On King Cildadan his side the Gyants made the front of the bat­taile, with twenty knights all neere a kinne vnto the King, who (like a prouident Generall) appointed that Mandafabull the Gyant of the Isle of the Vermilliō Tower, should remayne vpon the top of a little hill, with ten of the best knights in their troupe, cōmanding them not to stir from thence, vntill they should perceiue assuredly toward the end of the battell that the most [Page 114] valiant knights of Knig Lisuarts fide should be scattered and weary, and that then they should rush in vpon them, without spearing any man, sauing the Kings person. Whom they should take prisoner, and if they should perceiue any great resistance to be made, they should kill him if they could not carry him vnto their ships. Thus the two battailes approched so neere one to another, that they came to the ioining together: there might you haue seene Lances bro­ken, armour clattering, armes stro­ken off, some crying, others brea­king the ranks of their enemies so that this day might be well called a sorrowfull and dismall day, for those that were in this conflict, the which continued so long, vntill the most part of the day was past, yet none of them had so much time as once to breath, and yet it was so hot, that there was neither horse not Knight that was not weary, & exrteamly trauailed: for some lay vpon the ground, and the most part of the rest (in little better case) were so weake, that they could scant sit vpon their hor­ses. At the same time the Faire For­lorne fearing least the losse should fall vpon their fide, begā to shew al his force and strength, and he ligh­ted vpon neuer an Irishman nor gi­ant, but that hee drew the blood from his body. Close by his side did King Lisuart ride, who did well shew the great prowesse that re­mained in him, and hee was not ig­norant of what consequence the end of this battaile was, for loosing the victory thereof, he lost his dig­nity, his life and honor, by meanes whereof without sparing his per­son, hee was entred in amongst his enemies, hauing his right arme all dyed with the blood of those, whose liues had passed by the edge of his sword. On the otherside, Agraies, Galaor, Florestan, hauing from the beginning seen the great force and high Knight-hood that the Faire Forlorne had executed vpon his enemies, they who of long time did maligne him, de­termined either to dye, or to make knowne vnto euery one, that they could also fight as well or better then hee, so that this emulati­on was partly the cause of the ani­mating of them so far, that they all had likely to haue lost their liues, for Galaor chafed like a Lion that is pursued, came rushing in among the Giants, and encountred Carta­daque of the inuincible mountaine, who already with his battaile axe, had ouerthrown at his feete six of king Lisuarts knights, although that hee was wounded vpon the shoulder, with a blowe that Flo­restan had giuen him, whereby hee lost much of his blood, then Galaor came vnto him, and with all his strength, hee gaue him so great a blowe vpon the head, that hee cleft his helmet, and the sword passing down along cut of his eare, and the helue of his axe close vnto his fist.

Wherefore the Giant finding himselfe disfurnished of his wea­pon, ran vpon Galaor, and lifted him vp with such force, that hee tooke him vp from his horse, cru­shing him betweene his armes so streightly, that one might easily haue heard his bones cracke. Ne­uerthelesse, the Gyant could not sit so sure in his saddle, but that hee was forced to fal to the groūd with his burthē, wherfore Galaor (which yet held his sword in his hand) foūd the meanes to thrust him in the be­uer of his helmet, and it entred so farre into his head, that hee there [Page 115] withall yeelded vp the Ghost. But Galaor was so tyred, that after hee was gotten vp from vnder Carta­daque he had not power to pull his sword from the place wherein hee had thrusted it, and (that which was worst) he was so crouded with the presse of people, that hee was likely to haue died vnder the hor­ses feet, for many good knights both of the one and of the other side, (hauing seene the encounter betweene him and the Gyant, and the perill of them both) were ap­proached, of purpose to succour them, by meanes whereof the bat­taile was then very great and mar­uailous hot, for King Cildadan suddenly came to that place, who ouerthrew all those hee found in his way, and had not the Faire For­lorne beene (who with one blowe of his sworde stroke him off his horse) Galaor had there surely died or beene taken, but when hee be­held King Cildadan on foot beside him, he princely seased his sword which hee held, and began to de­fend himselfe, and that so valiantly as mauger all his enemies, hee made them giue him roome. Not­withstanding hee had ouerchafed himselfe so much in this last bicke­ring, that hee was quite out of breath, and hee fell downe flat vp­on the earth. There was the Gy­ant Gandalac, who had fostered him vp in his infancy, hee seeing him fall, was so angry that with great rage hee buckled with Alba­danor another Gyant, and so many strokes they gaue vnto each other with their clubs, that they & their horses were ouerthrowne, where-with Albadanor had his arme bro­ken and Gandalac his legge. But they were not alone that were thus ill intreated, for one might haue seene more then six score knights lying vpon the ground, and yet was not halfe the day spent. Then Mandafabull the Gyant of the Isle of the red Tower, who had beene appointed not to depart from the little hill wheee hee remayned, vn­till the extreamity of the battaile, seeing so many knights dead, scat­tered and wounded, thought that he might well end this enterprise, and that it were very easie for them to defeate the rest, by meanes whereof hee began to runne right vnto that place where was the greatest presse, crying vnto his knights: Take heed that none es­cape away aliue, let all passe by the edge of the sword, as for mee, I haue vowed to take King Lisuart in hand, for hee is mine dead or a­liue. This cry was heard of euery one, especially of the Faire For­lorne, who returned from taking of a fresh horse, which one of the nephewes vnto his host had reser­ued for him, and fearing that the Gyant would doe as hee said, hee came and stepped before the King, with Agraies, Florestan, Brunco de Bonne Mer, Branfil, Guillan the Pen­sif and Enil, who had all day long behaued himselfe so valiantly, that hee was had in very great reputa­tion. Now was Mandafabull bet­ter seconded then he thought, for as hee approached neere vnto the esquadron of King Lisuart, Sarma­dan the Leonnois, Vncle to King Cildadan, one of the best knights of his stocke, came foorth of the troupe, and running against the Faire Forlorne, he hit him so right a blow through his shield, that he wounded him, yet not very much, and in passing by, the Faire For­lorn did hit him such a thwart blow with his sword vpon the beuer of his helme, that he cut both his eyes and the halfe of his visage off, [Page 116] throwing him downe starke dead vpon the ground.

Herewithall Mandafabull and those that were with him beeing mad angry, entered pell mell a­mong King Lisuart his knights with such furie, that mauger their resistance, Mandafabull took hold of the King by the coller, and lif­ted him from his horse, carrying him vnder his armes right vnto his shippes. But the faire Forlorne was ware of it, who ran after him and ouertooke the Gyant, hitting him so forcibly with his sworde vpon the arme, that hee cut it off hard by the elbow, and the blowe sliding downe, wounded the King in such sort, that the blood sell downe vpon the ground. Then Mandafabull with the great griefe that hee felt, gaue a loud cry, and without going any further, he fell downe dead in the place, where-upon the Faire Forlorne seeing that his blow had so well profited, as that therewithall hee had slaine such a Gyant, and deliuered the King in like sort, hee began to cry aloud Gaule, Gaule, here is Amadis who is yet aliue. So saying hee en­tred amongst the thickest of his e­nemies, who had in a manner lost their hearts, by seeing two of the principallest of their army in that sort to be slaine, especially know­ing that Amadis (whom they long before thought to bee dead) was present to their confusion. And had not Gandaturiell one of the strongest Gyants in their troupe encouraged them againe, they had then surely turned their backs, but hee valiantly made head against his enemies, which being percei­ued by Amadis, who was desirous to reuenge his brother Galaor, whom hee imagined to bee dead, he thrust himselfe amongst his e­nemies, and entred into the thic­kest of the presse, so farre that there he had remained, without the ayd which King Lisuart brought vnto him, who had recouered his horse, and there were in his companie Bruneo, Florestan, Guillan, La [...]asin, Galuanes, Olinas, and Don Grume­dan, who carryed his standard, which was cut asunder betweene his armes. All those seeing Ama­dis in so great danger (although the most part of them were very sorely wounded) had such excee­ding ioy when they knewe that it was hee, that they bestirred them in such sort, as notwithstanding all the resistance that these Irishmen could make, they gaue ayde vnto Amadis, and passing on further they found Agraies, Palomir, Bran­fil and Dragonis, manfully fighting on foote against those that had throwne them downe. Yet they were so neerely driuen, that they could not any longer withstand the force of their enemies, al­though they had already slaine more then sixe, as well Gyants as Irishmen which would haue ouer-runne them, and without doubt they had beene so handled had not these succours come vnto them. So that they which would haue forced them, had enough to doe to defend themselues, because that Amadis (in spight of them) made them to recoyle backe, and that in such sort as with the ayde of his troupe hee was the meane that his Cosen Agraies and his fellowes did remount their horses. Then the forces of King Lisuart encrea­sed, and the Irish troupes decrea­sed, who dispairing of all helpe, had recourse vnto their vessels which were afloate hard by the shoare to saue their booty if For­tune had not contradicted them: [Page 117] but Amadis pursuing the victory, chased them with such fury, that the most part of the vanquished, desired rather to be buried amidst the waues of the Sea, then on the shoare, which was so died and wa­tered with their blood. The which Gandaturiell perceiuing (being e­steemed amongst all the Gyants one of the stoutest) without any feare at all of his death, which hee saw ready prepared for him, desi­ring before the end of his dayes to bee reuenged, bearing his head somewhat lowe, and holding his sharp sword in his hand, he would haue stroken at king Lisuart, but Florestan stepped before him, who hit him so sound a knock with his sword vpon the Helmet, that hee made it flie from his head, and the King who was hard at hand, seeing him bare, diuided his pate into two parts. Then was there a great slaughter of the Irishmen, for they were all now ouerthrowne by A­madis, Florestan, and Agraies: who persued them euen into the Sea, where they were swallowed vp with waues, wherewith king Lis­uart and his people retyred. And because that Amadis had marked the place where hee had seene Ga­laor stroken downe, hee prayed his Cosen Agraies & others that they would helpe him to finde him a­mongst the dead. Neuerthelesse they had not found him without the helpe of Florestan: who knew him by a greene sleeue which hee did weare, wrought full of white flowers, but hee was so couered with blood & dust, that they could scant knowe him. And I doe not knowe so hard a heart which had then seene the mone that Amadis did make for him, that would not haue burst forth into teares, for he beholding him in this estate, fell down all along vpon him. Where­by his wounds did open, against which the congealed blood was already setled, and I thinke that A­madis had died vpon him if twelue Damosels had not by chaunce come thither suddenly, who were very richly attyred, and had cau­sed a rich bed to bee brought by their Esquires, these finding Ama­dis so desperate, sayde vnto him: My Lord wee are come hither to seeke your brother Galaor, and if you will euer see him aliue, suffer vs to carry him presently away, o­therwise there is no Chyrurgion in all Great Brittaine that is able to heale him.

Herewithall Amadis was great­ly ashamed, because the Damosels had found him in that order, and although that hee knew them not, yet hearing them speak of his bro­thers health, hee determined (see­ing the extreame perill wherein he was) not to refuse their request, though it was to his extreame griefe. And therefore he answered them, my faire gentlewomen, may in please you to tell vs whither you will carry him. Not now said they, but if you will desire to haue him liue, giue him vnto vs without a­ny longer delay, otherwise wee will be gone. Alas answered he, I pray let mee followe you. You may not, and yet for your sake wee are cōtent that Ardan the Dwarffe and his Esquire shall accompanie him. Then they layd him vpon the bed (all armed as hee was) & they caused him forthwith to be carri­ed into the ship from whence they were come, which was yet close to the shoare. Afterwards they re­turned againe vnto king Lisuart, to entreate him that hee would giue them king Cildadan, who lay a­mong the dead, and to induce him [Page 118] thereunto, they shewed vnto him that although Fortune had fauou­red him in this exployt, yet hee should not extēd his cruelty vpon his enemy. The which the King considering, permitted them to carry him away dead or aliue, wherefore the Damosels took him vp and carried him away with Ga­laor, and so soone as they came in­to the ship they set sayle, hauing the winde so faire, that suddenly they were out of all mens sight.

Thus king Lisuart remayned cō ­querour ouer his enemies, going quite through the field to find out as well such of his owne people as those of his enemies, that were not yet thoroughly dead, to cause them carefully to bee looked vnto by skilfull Surgeons. And as hee went from one place to another, hee met with Amadis, whose face was all to be blubbered with tears, vnto whom he had not as yet spo­ken since his returne, and seeing him so heauy, after he had knowne the cause of his mone, hee shewed an euident signe of the sorrow that he sustayned for Galaors sake, whō hee loued as dearely as himselfe, & not without cause, for from the first day that hee receiued him for one of his knights, he alwaies ser­ued him faithfully, neuer forsaking him for any warre or debate that happened betweene his maiesty & Amadis, as hereafter shall bee re­hearsed vnto you. But the King desirous to manifest the force of his vertue, the better to comfort his knights, all wounded as hee was, lighted from his horse to im­brace Amadis, who kneeled down to shew his duty vnto his Maiesty. My deere friend sayd king Lisuart, you are most happily met, I know now very well, that without your ayde the realme of Great Brittaine had beene in no small danger, and I pray you be not so heauy for the losse of your brother, seeing that the Damosels haue assured you of his health.

In this sorte want king Lisuart comforting of Amadis, whom hee caused to mount on horse-backe, and afterwards hee brought him into his tent where there was brought somewhat for them to eat, & because he would depart the next day, he appointed ouer night that the dead should bee buried in a Monestarie hard by the place where the battaile was giuen, vp­pon the which place hee had be­stowed great riches, to cause them to pray for him. In like sort hee dispatched a knight to goe in haste to aduertise the Queene of the vic­tory that hee gad gotten ouer his enemies, and the next morning he tooke his way toward the Citty of Gonata (which was about foure leagues off) where hee remayned vntill he and his people were hea­led. While these things were in doing, the Queene Brialania got leaue of Queene Brisena, that she might goe to Mirefleur to visit O­riana, hauing a great desire to see her, because she was renowmed through all the world for her most excellent beauty. Of whose com­ming Oriana being aduertised, she caused the place to bee decked vp as well as possibly it might be, and she receiued her most honorably, but when she beheld her to bee so faire, the suspition that shee had conceiued against Amadis, was not so thoroughly mortified but that it somewhat reuiued againe in her, notwithstanding all the proof that she had had of him, eyther by his passing thorough the Arch of loyall louers, or by his winning of the olde mans sworde, beleeuing [Page 119] assuredly that 'it was a thing im­possible that any man could be so constant as hee might forbeare from louing a creature so beauti­full as Briolania was. On the other side Briolania verily thought that the often sighes of Amadis in her presence, proceeded of no other cause, but the affection which hee did beare vnto Oriana: for shee was the most rare Princesse and of the sweetest grace that euer shee had seene. Thus were these two Ladies suspitious one of another, and they remayned together dis­coursing of diuerse matters agree­able to their affections, especially of the vertues and perfections of Amadis. But Oriana (the better to diue into the thought of Briola­nia) sayde vnto her, I doe much maruaile gentle Cosen, conside­ring the bond wherein you are ty­ed vnto Amadis, (as also seeing that hee is decsended from Empe­rours, and the sonne vnto the king of Gaule) that you haue not cho­sen him for your husband. Ma­dame answered Briolania, beleeue me I should haue thought my self most happy if the same might haue beene brought to passe, but yet of one thing I can assure you, the which I pray you to keepe as secret as it deserueth. Many times did I motion such a matter vnto him, but his continuall sighes did presently yeelde me an answere in his behalfe, yet could I neuer vn­derstand in what place his loue was so setled, so couert and secret is hee in all his affections: neuer­thelesse let him be whatsoeuer hee will be, he shall dispose of me, and all that mine is foreuer, as he shall thinke good. Exceeding glad was Oriana to vnderstand these newes, by the which shee appea [...]ed her new conceiued iealousie against Amadis, and sayd vnto Briolania, I doe greatly maruaile what shee is whom hee loueth as you say, and there is no doubt but that he is one of the number of these louers, by the testimony which the image of the enchanted Arch hath declared of him, for according vnto that which hath been recited vnto me, it shewed more for him then euer it did for any that there before had passed. He loueth without doubt answered Briolania, but it is so se­cret that non may knowe what, or where she is.

In this sort did the two Prin­cesses passe away their time, still talking of Amadis during their aboad in the Castle of Mirefleur, from whence within a fewe dayes after they departed to go towards Fenusa to see the Queene Brisena, where she stayed for King Lisuart, who was very glad to see her daugter returne in so good health. There they had newes of the vic­tory that the King had against the Prince of Ireland, wherewith their ioy redoubled, and God was high­ly praised: but when Queen Briola­nia knew that he which was called the Faire Forlorne was Amadis of Gaul neuer was there woman more ioyful then she. And although that Oriana and Mabila knew the cause thereof very well (as you haue heard) yet did they dissemble the matter, and seemed to wonder thereat no lesse then the rest, by meanes whereof Briolania did of­ten times say thus vnto them: would you euer haue suspected that Amadis would haue thus dis­guised himselfe, & taken a strange name amongst his deerest friends, desiring thereby to extinguish his owne renowne by the great pro [...] ­esse that hee performed vnder the title of a stranger. By my faith, [Page 120] answered Oriana, if hee returne with the King, wee must know of him wherefore hee did it, and also what shee was that gained the ker­chiefe with him. I assure you said Briolania that we will not sticke to demand it of him, and I beleeue he will willingly tell vs.

CHAP. XVII.

NOw wee will rehearse vnto you, the ente [...] ­taynement that was made vnto King Cil­dadan and Galaor, whom the Gentlewomen had put into the ship, and they were carri­ed and so well looked vnto, that the third day following they be­gan to amend, for vntill then they had lost all manner of feeling and remembrance. And Galaor found himselfe to bee layd in a chamber (within a garden) furnished in the most sumptuous order that euer he had seene, the which was sup­ported vp with foure Marble pil­lers, inuironed notwithstanding with great gates of iron, through the which he might easily see from his bed where hee lay, all the cir­cuit of the garden, the which was closed about with high walles, not hauing any entrance into it but one little dore couered ouer with plates of iron, whereby he thought that hee was in prison. Then did he begin to feele such great griefe in his wounds, that hee hoped for nothing but death. Then did hee remember that hee had beene in the battaile, but he knew not who had either brought him away, or layd him in a place so strange as this was. And no lesse abashed was king Cildadan to see that hee was locked vpon a strong Tower, com­passed about with the maine Sea, although that the chamber where­in hee remayned was most richly hanged, and he laid in a good bed. Neuerthelesse hee was alone, and he thought that he did heare some people talking right vnder the vault, but hee could neither per­ceiue doore, nor place where tho­rough any body might enter into his chamber. Wherefore he rose vp, and put his head foorth at the window, and he could see nothing but the Sea, whose waues did beat against the place wherein hee re­mayned shut vp, the which was built vpon the top of a most steep and hard Rocke, neither did hee know how hee was brought from the place where hee was smitten downe among the presse of peo­ple. Notwithstanding hee knew very vell seeing hee was in such a place that he had lost the battaile, and that his knights were either all dead, or taken, but yet he comfor­ted himselfe as well as he could, & layd him downe againe vpon his bed, bewayling greatly the griefe which hee did feele in his wounds. Thus was Galaor lying sicke on the other side, as hath beene recited, who heard the little doore of the [Page 121] garden open: which caused him to rise from his bed, as well as hee could, and hee perceiued a faire Gentlewoman comming vnto him, being very richly attired, the which did bring with her a knight so olde and crooked, that it was wonder how hee could bee able to stand. These approching nere vn­to Galaor, sayd to him through the grates of yron, without opening the chamber dore. Knight, prouide for your soules health, for we will not henceforth warrant you. Then the Damosell tooke forth two lit­tleboxes, one of iron, and the other of siluer: and shewing them vnto Galaor, she sayd vnto him. Knight, the party which hath caused you to come hither, will not that you should die, before she doe knowe whether you will accomplish her will or no, and in the meane season she will cause your wounds to bee cured. Gentlewoman, answered Galaor, if shee desire that I should do any thing contrary to mine ho­nour, I had rather die. You may doe, sayd she, as you list, although it is your choyce either to liue or die. Herewithall the olde man o­pened the gate, and so soonas they were entred into the chamber, the the Gentlewoman presently gaue vnto him the yron boxe, willing him to step back, the which he did. Afterwards she sayde vnto Galaor. My Lord, I am so sorry for your sicknesse, that for to saue your life, I will hazard mine owne death, and I will declare that which I was put in charge to doe. Which is, that I should fill these two boxes, the one with poyson, and the other with oyntment to make you sleepe, to the end that when you did awake, you might feele such extreame paine, that with the rage thereof, you might cruely end your life, but I haue done cleane contrary, for I haue filled them with such a salue, that if you vse it but seuen dayes together, you shall finde your selfe whole, sound, and able to mount on horse-backe. Then she rubbed his wounds with the oyntment, the which was of such vertue, that at the same instant his paine was ap­peased, and hee felt such ease, that he sayde vnto the Damosell. Faire Gentlewoman, you doe binde me so greatly vnto you, that if euer I come forth from hence, you may bee sure that neuer any Gentlewo­man was better recompenced by a­ny knight, then you shall be by me, neuerthelesse, if you haue not the meanes to deliuer mee, I beseech you at the least, doe so much that Vrganda the vnknowne may be ad­uertised thereof, for I haue euer-more had a great confidence in her. The Gentlewoman began to laugh, and answered him. What? doe you make such account of Vr­ganda, seeing that hitherto she hath been so carelesse of your wealth or woe? I know well, sayd he, that as she knoweth the secret thoughts of men, so is shee not ignorant how much my desire is to serue her. Ne­uer care you for any other Vrganda (answered she) the [...] me, and haue only a good hope, e [...]deuouring to haste [...] your health, taking vnto you the courage of a valiant man, such as you haue alwaies bin esteemed, seeing that you know that man-hood and valour, is not onely re­quisit at combats and dangerous encounters, but in other accidents that may suddainly happen, like as at this present the ca [...]e standeth. And for the recompence of the pe­rill that I doe vndertake, to heale you and deliuer you from hence, I pray you grant vnto me one gift, which shall neither be hurtfull not [Page 122] dishonurable vnto you. Trust me Damosell sayd hee, you shall haue of mee euen whatsoeuer you shall please, if it may well and lawful­ly be performed. Goe to, then an­swered shee, let this suffice you now, vntill it bee time for mee to returne againe to dresse you, in the meane season couer you, and feigne as if you slept soundly, the which hee did. Then the Gentle-woman called the olde man, and sayd vnto him, see how the knight sleepeth, the poyson doth now worke vpon him. All the better, answered the olde man, hee which hath brought him hither, so farre as I see shall be sufficiently reuen­ged vpon him, and seeing that you haue so well obeyed that which you were commanded, I am con­tent henceforth that you doe come without any guard at all to visite him. But vse him after this manner fifteene dayes together, for at that time they shall come hi­ther, who (for the iniurie that hee hath done vnto them) shall take such satisfaction of him, as they please. Galaor heard all their talke, and hee knewe very well that the old man was his mortall enemie, neuerthelesse hee had some hope in the Damosels promise, who had assured him that hee should be healed in seauen dayes, hoping (if so shee did) that hee might easily saue himselfe from their hands. Hereupon the olde man and the Damosell departed: but shee tar­ried not long before hee did see her returne with two other young virgins, exceeding faire, who brought victuals vnto Galaor, and caused him to eate. This done the Damosell commanded the other two to keepe him company, and to reade before him some pleasant Histories, to keepe him from slee­ping in the day time, so that Galaor being greatly comforted by the Damosels kinde entertaynement, was thoroughly assured that shee would helpe him as shee had pro­mised, and so shutting the gate, she departed & left the two yong Gentlewomen discoursing with him. Farre otherwise did it happen vnto king Cildadan, who beeing shut vp within a Tower, and layd vpon his bed, did see a doore of stone to open (the which was close fastened in the wall, that it seemed as if it had beene the wall it selfe) by the which there entred in a gen­tlewoman of middle age, accom­panied with two armed knights, the which came close to his bed side. The King saluted them, but they answered not, the gentlewo­man lifted vp the couering that he had vpon, and looking vpon his wounds, she dressed thē, afterwards she gaue him somewhat to eate, & returned both she and the knights the same way they came, not once speaking vnto him. When the king beheld their maner of behauiour, he beleeued that he was in the pri­son of such a one where his life was in no great safety, neuertheles he took as good comfort vnto him as he could, not being able other­wise to remedy his mishap. But the gentlewoman that looked vnto Galaor seeing that it was time to dresse him went vnto him, and as­ked him how he fared. Passing wel answered Galaor, & I hope (seeing the good beginning of my amend­men) that I may be healed within the time that you haue promised. There is no doubt thereof said she, therefore I will that you promise me as you are a loyall knight, not to depart from hence without my leaue, otherwise your life may bee in perill of death Galaor did sweare [Page 123] vnto her so to doe, beseeching her most instantly to tell him how she was called. But she answered him. How now Galaor, doe you not yet know my name? Truely now I am greatly deceiued considering the seruices that heeretofore I haue done for you, when you are so for­getfull of me? I am called, The wise among the wisest: saying so, shee went forth of the chamber fayning to bee very angry, and pulled the dore rudely after her. Wherewith Galaor remained more pensiue then before, and hee remembred him of the faire sword that Vrgan­da had giuen vnto him, when his brother Amadis made him knight, whereby hee suspected that it was she her selfe, neuerthelesse, hee was in some doubt, because that when he saw her first, she seemed to bee olde and crooked, and this was young, faire, and in good liking. And as he was in this study not be­ing able to sleepe, hee turned his head toward the place, where the young Gentlewomen were accu­stomed to sit in keeping him com­pany, but in stead of them he per­ceiued Gasauel his esquire, and Ar­dan the Dwarffe of Amadis: at which he was no lesse abashed then ioyfull, and he called them because that they slept. Who at their awa­king, seeing their Maister, they be­came no lesse amased then he, and they rose vp doing their duty vnto him, and hee demanded how they were come thither, who answered, that Amadis, Florestan and Agrates, had commanded them to follow him. They further declared vnto him, in what estate the Damosels tooke him vp, for which cause A­madis seeing in what extremity you remained, permitted them to carry you away, together with King Cildadan. What do you say? sayd Galaor, was Amadis in this as­sembly? My Lord, sayd Gasanel, it was hee that was called the Faire Forlorne, by whose strength and courage the battaile was gayned. Then he recited vnto him the man­ner how he deliuered the King, and killed Mandafabull, and that then he made himselfe knowne, crying Gaul with a loude voyce. Thou [...] ­lest me wonders, sayde Galaor, but by my faith, he was too blame to hide himselfe from mee. This was the estate wherein Galaor and Cil­dadan remained, who in few dayes felt so great ease of their wounds, that they began to walke about the chamber. Wherefore Vrganda (in whose power they remained in her vnknowne Island) made her selfe knowne vnto them saying vn­to them. That the feare wherein shee had put them, had beene the meanes to effect their health the sooner, otherwise they had beene in danger of their liues. Afterwards she commanded her two Nieces to be fetched to keepe them com­pany, which were daughters vnto King Falangris, brother vnto King Lisuart, who had begotten vpon them the sister of Vrganda, one of them was called I [...]lianda (whome Galaor did shortly after beget with childe of a son, that was named Talanqua, and afterwards proued a valiant Knight) and the other was called Solisa, who also had by King Cildadan Manely the Discreete. And these two Knights staied with these two Damosels, till Vrganda set them at liberty, as hereafter it shall be declared vnto you.

In the meane time King Lisuart, Amadis, and the other Knights stai­ed at Gonata, and after they were healed of their wounds, they de­termined to goe visit the Ladyes which staied for them in the Cirtie [Page 124] of Fenusa, of whom they were re­ceiued with great ioy. But during their aboad there, as Amadis talked with Queen Briolania (in the com­pany of Oriana) she sayd vnto him. My Lord, I assure you I was so sor­rowfull when it was told mee that you were lost, that I can in no sort expresse vnto you the displeasure that I receiued therewith, and at the last seeing that you staied so long before you returned, I deter­mined to come vnto this Court, with a hundred of my Knights, to cause the search of you to begin, according to the appointment of my Lords your bretheren. Neuer­thelesse by meanes of the battaile which the King had appointed with King Cildadan, my enterprise was stored and that in a good houre, seeing that it pleased God so soon to bring you home againe. Therefore aduise you now (if it please you) what you will that I shall doe for you, for I will obey you all my life long. Madame, answered Amadis, if you were in a­ny perplexity for mee, you had great reason, for I am well assured, that there is no knight in the world more ready to do you seruice then is Amadis of Gaul. But seeing that it pleaseth you to refer all your af­faires vpon me, I pray you to tarry yet in this Court eight or tenne daies longer, vntill we may heare some newes from my brother Ga­laor, in the meane time you shall haue the pastime of a Combate, which my brother Florestan must performe against Laudin, and af­terwards I will conduct you home into your Countrey, and from thence I will take my way vnto the Firme-Island, where I must needs be. I will do, saide Briolania what-soeuer it shall please you, proui­ded that you doe tell vnto vs the wonders and nouelties that you haue there seene. And as he would haue excused him, Oriana tooke him by the hand, and saide vnto him. My Lord Amadis, you haue some-what to doe, for we will not leaue you in peace, before you haue tolde vs something. In faith my Ladies, answered hee, although I take in hand to re [...]e the particu­larities of the whole, yet do I finde it impossible: neuerthelesse, I may truely tell you that the forbidden chamber is the most faire & richest in all the world, and if it bee not gained by one of you two, I verily beleeue that so long as we liue, ne­uer may any other set footing therein. Briolania remained a while without answering him, in the end she said vnto Amadis: truly I doe not thinke that I may deserue to finish such an aduenture, yet notwithstanding (such as I am) if it were not to bee reputed a folly in me, I would willingly make proofe thereof. Madame, answered he, it is not to bee counted a presumpti­on, to trie that wherein all others haue failed vntill this present, be­cause they were not faire enough, and you which are one of the most excellent creatures in the earth, should doe so much amisse to de­serre this singularity, as your feare might turne you greatly vnto blame, in not performing your en­deuour. Amadis did suddainly perceiue by her countenance that Ori­ana was not greatly pleased with this discourse, and although hee thought that hee had said nothing, but what might redound vnto her honor, yet did it greatly repēt him that he had spoken so much, for he had seene the old image of Grima­nesa, was in no sort equall vnto her in beauty, therefore could she [Page 125] not attaine vnto that glory, the which hee made no doubt at all in Oriana. But Oriana iudged farre o­therwise, for shee imagined that there was not any thing in the world that Briolania might not ac­complish, if by beauty it might bee conquered, and dissembling before her the malice that she now had cō ­ceiued against her, shee praied her that if shee entred into the forbid­den chāber, that she would vouch­safe to send her news thereof. Then shee rose vp, and went to seeke out Mabila, whom whē she had found, she recited all the conference that had passed betwixt Amadis and Briolania, (in her presence) saying vnto her. By my faith your Cosin doth very often giue mee the like alarmes, although hee bee assured that I take no pleasure at all in any thing, but onely in that wherein I may best please and obey him, without respect of mine honour, feare of God, or obedience to my parents. But he knoweth that hee hath ful power ouer me, which cau­seth him now to dispise me, for the which I may onely blame that pri­uate familiarity which I haue shew­ed vnto him, thinking that I had done all for the best. In vttering these her supposed wrongs, aboun­dance of teares fell from her eyes, which Mabila perceiuing (as be­ing very discreete) she bethought her of a present Antidote to expell this poison. And therefore faining to bee exceeding angry, with the iniury that Oriana offered vnto A­madis, she answered her very sharp­ly and shrewdly: Madame, I doe greatly wonder at you, and your manner of behauiour, for so soon as one mischiefe hath forsaken you, another doth presently follow you, and you ought (methinkes) to take better regarde vnto that which you say of my cosin, and not to bee perswaded that he hath spo­ken either one thing or another to anger you, seeing that you may be assured that he neuer imagined to offer you any offence, either in word or deede. And heereof suffi­cient witnesse you haue, in the proofes & triall that he hath made, as well in your presence as in your absence, but I see well what your meaning is, you would haue mee know (being weary of my compa­ny) that you would put mee away vnder the coullour that my cofin is so wholly yours, abusing your selfe with the bondage wherein he is subiected vnto you. Neuer­thelesse, when you shall haue forsa­ken me, it will be no great matter, so that your Amadis (for your may I call him) be not worsse vsed. For you know very well and I also, that the least displeasure he shall take at your griefe, will bee sufficient to cause his death, therefore I mar­uaile what pleasure you take to tor­ment him so often, hee aduentu­ring himselfe for you as much as is possible to bee done for any other Lady liuing. Doe you not consi­der, that Apolidon willed the proofe of the forbidden chamber should be cōmon to all the world? What a great error should my Cosin then commit, to diswade Briolania that shee should not doe as much as others? Tuely I beleeue that neither you nor she are yet faire e­nough to performe that, which all the fairest during these hundred yeeres could neuer obtaine. There­fore I am throughly assured, that this new iealousie proceedeth not from any fault which he hath com­mitted, whose minde is wholly a­dicted to obey you. Moreouer his mis-fortune hath so much ouer­maistered him, that to please [Page 126] you hee hath not onely forgotten himselfe, (but also regarded none but you) hee hath quite disday­ned all his kindred, and hath ac­counted them as meere strangers, not knowing them at all, nor any other but you whom hee adoreth as his God, and yet you would by your folly procure his ouer-throw. Ay mee, the dangers and euident perill wherein hee and his haue oftentimes beene brought vnto for your sake, as well against Arcalaus as in this last battaile, are very ill acknowledged by you, see­ing that now in satisfaction there-of, you desire the destruction of the chiefe and principallest of my kindred. Is this the fauour and re­compence for the seruices that I haue done vnto you? Truely my hope is now greatly deceiued, see­ing before mine eyes, a complot is layd for the ruine and fall of a wight whom I doe most loue in the world, and hee that is yours more then his owne, notwithstan­ding (if it please God) it shall not be so, nor shall such a misfortune happen so neere vnto mee. For I will intreate my brother Agraies and my Vncle Galuanes to carry mee into Scotland, whereby they shall doe mee a great pleasure to take me away from your company who are so vngratefull. Herewith­all shee wept so extreamely, as though shee would haue drowned her selfe with teares. Alas sayd she God grant that the cruelty which you commit against your Amadis, light not vpon your owne head, to satisfie all his kindred, who shall not lose so much (in his lacke) as you alone shall doe, although it should be the greatest misfortune that could happen vnto vs. When Oriana did heare Mabila speake in such choller, her heart was so ouercharged, that her speech fai­led vntill shee had a little while re­sted her, when bursting out into teares, shee mainely cryed out, ah mee poore soule, aboue all deso­late and sorrowfull women, most wretched: who would euer haue imagined this which you haue now made manifest vnto mee, could euer haue proceeded forth of your heart? Alas I haue disclo­sed my secrets vnto you (hauing about me no other worthy to vn­derstand my sorrowes) to haue counsel & comfort at your hands, but you discomfort mee, and vse mee worse then I haue deserued, reputing me to be farre otherwise then I am, or euer shall be so long as breath remayneth within my sorrowfull heart, which maketh mee to presume that nought but my misfortune hath brought vp­on mee this vnhappy vsage, seeing that you haue taken in such ill part that which I did tell you for the best. And let God neuer helpe mee if I did thinke dayes of my life vpon that wherewith you doe blame and accuse mee, for I haue so great confidence in your Co­sen, that I study vpon nothing so much, as how to content him: yet thus much I must tell you, that I had rather die then any other but my selfe should gaine the honour of the forbidden Chamber. Iudge you then what griefe it would be to me if Briolania (who goeth be­fore to make proofe thereof) should accomplish it, notwith­standing my good Cosen & deere friend, I pray you to pardon mee, and (if it please you) deferre not to aduise me what you think is best for mee to doe. For your Cosen might bee very angry if hee did know that which I haue suspected of him. Madame, answered Ma­bila, [Page 127] seeing you acknowledge your fault, you must be better ad­uised hereafter. You haue had ex­perience enough, by that which is past, what inconuenience may happen vpon so light occasions, take heed henceforth then, how you commit the like errors. Thus were these two Ladies reconciled together as before, neuerthelesse shortly after Mabila came vnto A­madis, vnto whom she declared all the talke that Oriana had with her, reproouing him sharpely for that which he had said to Briolania be­fore her, knowing that already she had been suspitious of them both. Therefore my good Cosen sayde Mabila, endeauour henceforth not to giue her any farther occasion to vse you ill, speaking hereafter more discreetely then you haue done, especially before my Lady, for it is a very hard matter wholly to banish and extinguish iealousie from a woman after it is much rooted in her mind, and had it not beene for my sharpe answer vnto her, by my faith shee had passed the bounds of reason. Sweet Co­sen answered Amadis, I doe much maruaile at the phantasie of my Lady, but yet I doe giue you ex­ceeding great thankes, for the counsell that you giue vnto mee, although I doe sweare vnto you that whatsoeuer. I did speake, I thought was wholy for her aduan­tage. And I will tell you how eue­ry one knoweth that Briolinia is reputed one of the faired Ladies in the world, so as one would thinke her sufficient to enter into the forbidden chamber, but this thought is false: for I haue seene the Image of Grimanesa, vnto whose beauty Briolania in no sorte comes neere, wherefore it is most sure that shee shall neuer attaine to this honour, the which my La­die shall obtaine without any dif­ficultie. Neuerthelesse if it were first before Briolania had made her tryall therein, one might say after-ward, If she had begun before O­riana, that then shee had first at­chieued the aduenture: by means whereof I was so bold (in the pre­sence of my Lady) to giue her that counsell which you haue heard, Mabila liked well this excuse of Amadis, and tolde Oriana thereof, who did greatly repent her that shee had spoken so much, fearing least Amadis would haue been of­fended with her, and to make a­mends for this fault which she had committed, she sent him word by Mabila, that he should come to see her in her lodging, where she and Briolania stayd for him, the which he did. At his cōming the Ladies tooke him by the hand, and made him sit betweene them, then they prayed him to tell them the truth of what which they would demand of him, wherunto hee discōended. Tell vs then sayd Oriana, what is the Ladie that gained the kerchief with the flowers, when you con­quered the burning sword? Ama­dis perceiued well that he was not onely ouertaken, but also constrai­ned to tell the truth, for which cause he answered Oriana: In faith Madame I know no more what she was then you doe, although I re­mained in her company sixe daies together. But thus much did I see in her, that she had the fairest haire that any Lady or Damosell could possibly haue, and shee is besides most beautifull, and of a most ex­cellent grace, for the rest you know as much as I doe. By my faith said Oriana, if shee got the kerchiefe with great honour, it had bin like afterward to haue cost her [Page 128] very deere as it was tolde mee, for without your assistance Arcalaus the enchanter and his Nephew Lindoraq had taken it from her, & also done her some villany. It was not hee answered Briolania (if hee be Amadis) but another who was called the Faire Forlorne, from whom wee must not derogate the honour to attribute it vnto ano­ther. And although I am greatly bound vnto Amadis, yet will I not let to speake the truth of the Faire Forlorne, because if the one haue surmounted Apoli­don in prowesse by winning of the Firme-Island, the same being vnto him an exceeding great reputati­on, so in like sorte was the other worthy of no lesse praise, who in one onely day ouerthrew tenne of the best knights in Great Brittain, and slew the most redoubted Gy­ant Famongomad, and Basigant his sonne▪ if Amadis did passe vnder the Arch of loyali louers, in whose fauour the Images of copper did sound a more melodious tune, then it did for any other that euer proued the same aduenture, there­by manifesting his loyalty, it see­meth in like sort that the Faire For­lorne had as great an aduantage in gaining the the burning sword, the which for the space of threescore years no other could draw forth of his scabbard. Therfore Madame, it is not reason to take away the ho­nour from the Faire Forlorne, and without desert to giue it vnto A­madis, seeing that both in prow­esse and loyalty they may (as I thinke) equall one another. And as they were in these pleasant dis­courses, a Damosell came and told Amadis that the King asked for him, because that Don Quedragant and Laudin his Nephew were be­fore him to acquite them of the promise that they had made by the meanes whereof Amadis was con­strained to leaue the Lady, and to goe vnto the Court. By the way hee met with Bruneo and Branfil, who followed him, & they found that Quedragant had begunne his speech vnto the King, saying: It may please your Maiesty, I haue stayed heere for Amadis of Gaule, according to the couenant that I made with the Faire Forlorne, and now that hee is in the Court I will discharge me of my promise True it is that by force of armes, I was constrained to graunt vnto the Faire Forlorn that I should not de­part from your company, vntill A­madis were returned, and then hee being come before your high­nesse. I should cease all quarrels that I had enterprised against him, for the death of king Abies of Ire­land my brother, and neuer after to demand any thing at his hands, therefore and in like sort that I should neuer hereafter beare arms against your Maiesty, or any of yours. Which matter hath since grieued me more then one would thinke, because I could not be pre­sent at the battaile, the which you had vndertaken against king Cil­dadan and his followers, of the number of whome I thought to haue beene, but fortune was so contrary that my intent was tur­ned farre otherwise then I had purposed, for the hate which I did beare vnto Amadis, is conuerted into a most great amity, th [...] which I am determined to holde inuio­lable with him, if he think it good being assured that I was ouercome by him, vnder the name of the Faire Forlorne, the which he had taken because hee would not be knowne. So that I doe manifest­ly perceiue that fortune is wholly [Page 129] determined to aduance him, as the the force which hee did shew in this last battaile can sufficiently witnesse, the honour whereof ought wholly to bee yeelded vnto him and to no other. For this cause it may please your Maiesty, seeing my Lord Amadis is heere present, that first you will dis­charge mee of that which I haue promised vnto him vnder a con­trary name, and as for him I remit all the euill will that I did beare vnto him, for the death of my late deceased brother king Abies, and I doe further intreate him to ac­cept mee for his companion and perpetuall friend. Sir Quedragant answered the King, you speake like a prudent and wise knight, for what prowesse or courage soeuer a Gentleman hath, if hee bee not gouerned by counsell & reason, he is not worthy that any man should make account of him. You are sufficiently knowne for one of the best knights in the world, yet you may be assured that the fellowship which you demand of Amadis shal in no sort deminish your praise & renowne, you two continuing in mutuall amity together: and you may beleeue that hee will bee very glad to accept of the offer which you doe make vnto him. Is it not true gentle friend? sayd the King vnto Amadis. If it like your Maie­sty answered he, Quedragant is so worthy a knight-that his fame is spread abroad in many places, and seeing that it pleaseth him to chuse mee for his consort, I doe thankefully accept his kind offer. Herewithall they embraced, and so long did their friendshippe thenceforth continue, that it was neuer seperated but by death. At the same time was Florestan & Lan­din before the King, purchasing their leaue to enter into the field, according to their appointed a­greement (a good while before) in maintenance of Amadis his quarrell against Quedragant: but when they saw them friends their combate was finished, and their hatred conuerted into amity, wherewith Landin was exceeding glad, for hee had already proued Florestan in the iourney against king Cildadan, and seene his va­lour and prowesse.

Thus were these quarrels ended, & how much the Court had here-tofore been troubled, by so much was the ioy and pastime thereof increased, neuerthelesse the King hauing not forgotten the miserie wherein king Arban of Northwales and Angriota de Estrauaux remay­ned, (after he had some few dayes stayed with the Ladies) he vnder­tooke their deliuerance, and the better to effect the same, hee de­termined to passe into the Isle of Mongaza, to set them at liberty, wherewith hee made his knights acquainted. Then Amadis answe­red him, your Maiesty doth know that my brother Galaor hath beene lost in your seruice, therefore I beseech you to excuse mee from accompaning your grace in this voyage, for if God please my co­sins and I will goe seeke him as it is reason, and so soone as we haue found him, I assure your Maiesty that incontinently wee will follow vnto that place where wee shall heare your grace abideth. Friend Amadis, answered the King, I pro­mise you of my faith, that I my selfe would willingly accompany you, so sorry am I for Galaor: but you know the present affaires that I haue, whereby I am in truth to bee excused, yet neuerthelesse I am well pleased with your depar­ture, [Page 130] both when you list, and with such companie as you like. Here-withall there rose vp more then a hundred of the most approoued knights, who did all sweare the search of Galaor. For saide they, hardly may we vndertake a wor­thier or more strange aduenture: & they preuailed with the King so much that they got leaue to depart the next morning.

CHAP. XVIII.

NOw it happened the same day after the King had supped, as hee walked along a gallerie, being almost bed-time, hee beheld two strange fires vpon the Sea, which came with great swiftnesse directly to­wards the Cittie. Wherewith he was greatly amased, because hee thought it very difficult that water and fire should continue together, especially when hee beheld in the midst of these fires, a galley, at the mast whereof were many great burning torches, so that one would haue iudged the vessell had beene all on fire. This wonder did astonish the people so much that in a manner they came all forth of the Cittie, presuming that seeing the Sea was not able to quench this fire, it was impossible to de­fend the Cittie from being burnt to ashes, if the same once tooke hold thereof, wherefore the King as fearfull as the rest mounted vp­on his horse, and came forth with them vpon the sands. And as hee came neere the water side, he did see that the most part of all the knights were already arriued, and amongst the rest was Amadis, E­uil, and Guillan, who were at that time so neere the galley, which was hard at shore, that he thought it impossible for them to escape from the fire thereof. Hereupon he set spurres to his horse, because hee tooke on exceedingly with the noyse that was made, and whether hee would or no hee brought him close to the galley side: vpon the which shortly after he saw a cloth lifted vp which couered it, and a Damosell appeared clothed in white silke, that held a small Cofer of gold in her hand, which she o­pened, then shee tooke out of it a burning taper which she cast into the Sea, and presently the two great fires vanished away so sud­denly, that it was not perceiued what was become of them. Wher­with all the people were maruai­lous glad, seeing that they were out of danger, for there remained no more light then that of the tor­ches, which burned vpon the mas [...] of the galley, with the brightnesse whereof all the shoare receiued light. Then the galley was plainly perceiued which was decked with many garlands of floures, & instru­mēts began to sound very sweetly. Herewithal there apeared vpō the poupe twelue Damosels richly ap­parelled, euery one of thē hauing a chaplet of roses vpon their head, and a rod of gold in their hands. [Page 131] And she marched forth first of all that had throwne the taper into the Sea, who comming a shoare did her duty vnto the King, and he receiued her very kindely, saying vnto her: Madame in satisfaction of the feare wherewith your fire af­frighted vs, tell vs if you please who you are, although wee alrea­die surmise that we know you well enough. Your Maiestie answered she, is of such a valiant courage, that it is impossible to terrifie you with so small a thing, yet the fires which you haue seene were orday­ned to no other ende but for the safety of my women and me when we are determined to goe by Sea. For the rest if you thinke mee to bee Vrganda the vnknowne, your thought is true, and I am expresly come into these parts to visit you, as the best Prince in the earth, and the Queene also, who is one of the wisest Ladies that liueth. Then shee called Amadis saying vnto him. My Lord Amadis come neer and I will tell you, (to ease you of the trauaile that you should haue in seeking of Galaor) that your bro­ther is well, and so throughly hea­led, that you shall see him heere very shortly, therefore leaue off your determined search of him, for hee is in such a place as all the men in the world can neuer finde him. Madame answered Amadis, when hee was demanded of me by the Damosels that carried him a­way, I imagined that he should be saued by you, and that no other but Vrganda would haue vnderta­ken such an enterprise, which hath euer since put mee in good hope, without the which I thinke I had beene dead. For this one thing I am sure of, that there is no knight in the world more bound to Lady or gentlewoman then I am to you, for the which I am not able to yeeld you such condigne thanks as I doe owe, and you deserue, but you know very well, that Amadis his life shall neuer be spared to do you seruice. Madame said the king, will it please you to come and rest you in my Pallace? Your Maiesty answered Vrganda, shall pardon me, for I will remayne this night in my galley, and to morrow I wil doe whatsoeuer it shal please you, but Amadis, Agraies, Bruneo, and Guillan shall keepe mee companie, because I knowe they are as amo­rous as my selfe, and their compa­nie will be a meanes to driue away all melanchollie. Doe what you will said the King, for you shall be obeyed. Then he caused the peo­ple to returne vnto the Citty, and he himself (bidding Vrganda good night) departed, leauing for her guard a number of archers vpon the sands: the next morning the Queene sent vnto Vrganda twelue of her owne hacknies richly trap­ped, vpon the which shee and her women entred into the Cittie, and Vrganda rode in the midst of the foure knights which she had ouer­nigh detained to keep her compa­nie. They intertained her with di­uerse discourses by the way, where­in she tooke so great pleasure that shee said vnto them, Beleeue me [...] it would bee a long time before should be wearie of so good com­panie as this of yours is: for I as­sure you that I finde you all foure so agreeable to my nature, that you are particularly euen all one with my selfe, for if I bee in loue, you are no lesse, holding Ladies in most great estimation. And this saide Vrganda, because that shee languished with extreame loue which shee did beare vnto the faire Knight, of whom in our [Page 132] first booke wee haue mentioned vnto you. Their conference was no sooner ended, when they ap­proached neere vnto the Pallace, but the King who there had staied, came forth to meete them, and as hee embraced Vrganda (bidding her heartily welcome) she looked round about her vpon the compa­nie, and beheld a great number of knights, in each place. Whereup­pon she sayd, me thinks your Ma­iesty is now royally accompanied, not onely for the multitude of great personages that are with you, but especially for the loue which I am sure they do beare vn­to you, for which you ought greatly to praise God. For the Prince that is beloued of his sub­iects, may be sure to maintaine his estate in great safety, therefore your Maiesty must endeauour to entertaine and vse them Kingly, that your fortune (which hitherto hath fauoured you) do not forsake you if you doe otherwise: and a­boue all things take heede of false reports, seeing that it is the very poyson and ruine of such Princes as giue credit vnto them. And as the King would haue brought her to her chamber, she said vnto him: may it please your Maiesty that I may first goe and doe my duty to the Queene? I with all my heart gentle Lady answered hee, I am sure that shee will be most glad to see you, as shee that hath greatly desired to honour and please you. Herewithall hee conducted her where the Ladies were, and so soone as the Queene did see her, she rose vp and kissed her, saying, that she was exceeding welcome: then shee made her sit downe be­tweene Oriana & Briolania, whom Vrganda had neuer yet seene: and shee found that Briolania was the fairest Lady in they world, if Ori­ana by her excellency had not ble­mished her beauty, and to speake truth there was great difference betweene them two. Then Vrgan­da sayde vnto the Queene: Ma­dame, I doe now finde that true which I haue euer heard reported: Which is, that the King was more accompanied with worthy knights then any other Christian Prince, and you also attended vpon by the fairest Ladies on the earth, for hee which conquered the Firm-Island (being a better knight then Apoli­don) & the famous victory which so lately hath beene obtayned a­gainst King Cildadan, by the effu­sion of the blood of so many Gy­ants as there dyed, are sufficient witnesses of the one, and I am sure (to proue the other) it will ea­sily be granted vnto me, that vnder the firmament it is not possible to finde fairer Ladies then these two heere, pointing to Oriana and Bri­olania: but if your Court hath this preheminence, it is yet honoured for one thing and farre more re­commendable, which is the loy­alty wherein loue is there main­tayned, as well to be seene by the proofe of the burning sword, and the kerchiefe beset with flowers, which aduenture was performed in your presence. When Oriana heard her goe so farre in her talke, her heart beganne to tremble, and she became sorry and pensiue, fea­ring least Vrganda would speake more, in disclosing the secresie be­tweene Amadis and her. But A­madis who was present, knowing the wisedome of her that knew all things, and the doubt of Oriana, hee approached vnto her, whispe­ring thus in her eare, I assure you Madame, that Vrganda is ouer dis­creete to speake any thing foolish­ly [Page 133] or vnaduisedly. And therewith­all hee turned vnto the Queene, saying vnto her, Madame, your grace may demaund (if it please you) of Vrganda what she was that gained the kerchiefe. I pray you sayd the Queene, tell vs that. By my faith answered Vrganda, there is great cause why Amadis should know better what shee was then I, for shee followed him, and after-ward hee deliuered her from the hands of Arcalaus the enchanter, and from Lindoraq his Nephew, not without great daunger of his person. Madame sayd Amadis it was impossible that I should either know her of my selfe, better then you did, seeing that you knowe that shee desiring to remaine vn­knowne would neuer vncouer her face before me, yet from you no­thing may bee so well concealed, that is not at your pleasure reuea­led. Truely answered Vrganda, for your sake I will presently de­clare vnto you as much as I know. The D [...]ell (whose loyalty is so knowne) is no maide, for shee is a faire [...], aboue all others most excellent: and for the same cause did shee conquer the kerchiefe so renowined, especially through the constant loue which she did beare vnto her Lord. She is by birth, of the Kings countrey, by her Mo­ther an Alien, and her continuall abiding is in this Realme, where shee liueth so aboundantly, that if she wanteth any thing, it is onely because shee cannot (at all times when shee pleaseth) enioy him whom shee loueth better then her selfe, further shall you not knowe what she is by me. Oriana who fee­ling he [...] touched by Vrganda, was not wel contented, (doubting least shee should haue proceeded further) vntill shee held her peace, and that the Queen answered: tru­ly gentle Ladie you haue so cunningly deciphered her vnto vs, that there is not any heere, in my opinion, the better for her know­ledge, sauing onely that wee did thinke her a maide, and you assure vs that shee is a wife. A time will come said she, that you shal know her better. Herewithall the King who was minded to feast Vrganda, came to seeke her, that hee might lead her to dinner▪ hee made her sit close beside him, & afterwards they spent the rest of the day in spotting & making good cheare, vntill it was time to goe to rest. Then Viganda came vnto the Queene, to entreate her that shee would be pleased to [...] her to lie in Oriana her chāber, the which shee willingly did grant vnto her. Neuerthelesse sayd the Queene, I feare that her youthfull behauiour will somewhat disquiet you. In faith Madame answered shee, her beauty shall be more hurtful vnto many good knights, whose prow­esse cannot be so great as that it may defend them from sundry pe­rils, which they are likely to fall into for her loue, for that their deaths will hardly be eschewed, if they do not wisely preuent it. The Queene could not refraine from laughter, and saide vnto Vrganda. Hitherto she may be pardoned for any such danger that shee hath as yet brought those vnto of whom you speake: and therefore for this time I bid you good night. Here-upon the Queene departed, and Vrganda was brought vnto the Princesse her lodging, where shee found the Queene Briolania, and Mabila, that kept her companie, with who [...] she discoursed so long of diuerse pleasant matters, vntill ouercome of sleep, they were con­strained [Page 134] to lay them downe. Now they were all foure lodged in one chamber together, notwithstan­ding Vrganda perceiuing Briolania and Mabila to be fast asleepe, and Oriana awake, shee sayd vnto her, Madame, if you now doe not take your rest for thinking vpon him, that day and night doth wake for your loue, your quiet and his are both alike. I knowe not what you meane answered Oriana, but sure I am, that loue neuer hindered me from sleepe. Vrganda knew very well that she made her this answer, because shee would not that Brio­lania should vnderstand the loue betwixt her and Amadis, where­fore she sayd vnto her: assure you that I am so carefull that your se­crets be not disclosed, as I will not offend you with any thing that I speak, for I know what is needfull for you better then your selfe. Ma­dame answered Oriana, you may waken the Gentlewomen that are in this chamber. Let me alone for that sayd Vrganda, I will rid you straight of this feare. Therewith­all shee tooke forth a booke which was so little one might haue coue­red it with his hand, and after she had read therein a little while, she sayd vnto Oriana, let this suf­fice you, that now wee may speake in safety, for what noyse soeuer we make, they shall not stirre, vn­till I awake them, and if any doe enter into this chamber, they shall fall downe vpon the sloute in as sound a sleepe as they, and harke how they snort already. Heereat Oriana began to laugh, and rising forth of her bed shee came vnto Mabila and Briolania, whose armes she pulled very rudely, but for all that euer she could doe, they stir­red no more then a stone, will you yet see sayd Vrganda the pastime of those that shall come ouer the threshold of your chamber doore? call the Damosell of Denmarke who is in this wardrobe, which O­riana did. And as the Damosell had set her foote in the chamber, she fell downe vpon the floure, & beganne to sleepe and snort more soundly then either Mabila or Bri­olania. Wherefore Oriana went & layd her downe by Vrganda, and sayde vnto her: Madame, seeing that you know so much of my af­faires, I beseech you to tell mee what must happen vnto me. How? answered Vrgāda, do you think the sooner to escape that which is pre­destined vnto you by being aduer­tised thereof aforehand? You may beleeue that it is not in the power of any mortall man to alter that which God hath appointed vnto him, bee it good or bad, vnlesse it be by his free will and grace: ne­uerthelesse since you so greatly desie to know your fortune, I am content, afterwards make your profit thereof as you can. Harken now then, at such time as your hea­uinesse shall bee at the highest, many good knights̄ shall perish for your loue. Then the s [...]g Li­on accompanied with his beast, shall come forth of his denne, & with his loud roaring & cries, shal in such sort astonish those that shall haue you in keeping, that mauger all their force you shall remaine in the pawes of that roy­all beast, who shall throwe from your head the rich crowne that shall no more bee yours. Afterwardes this famished beast hauing your body in his power, shal beare you into his caue, where hee shall feede in such sort, as his extreame hunger shall be slaked. Therefore my daughter take heed what you do, for this which I haue foretold [Page 135] you shall without doubt come to passe. By my faith answered Oria­na, I could haue beene well con­tent to haue forborne this curiosi­ty, for the sorrowfull end that is prepared for mee doth trouble all my spirits. Faire Lady, saide Vr­ganda, another time bee lesse curi­ous to vnderstand that which is be­yond your capasitie: neuerthe­lesse, oftentimes such things as are misticall and fearefull, doe for the most part turne into ioy, pleasure, and profit, therefore be not you discomforted in any sort, seeing that you are daughter vnto the best king, & most vertuous Queene that liueth vpon the earth, beeing endued with such excellent beau­ty, that your renowne is spreade ouer all countreies, and more-ouer you are beloued of him, who is honoured and esteemed more then any other Knight. You know as well as I that hee loueth you, by the experience not onely of that which hath beene tolde you, and you haue made knowne vnto him, but also by the aduentures which hee hath brought to passe in your presence: therefore you ought to thinke your selfe happy aboue all those that are best beloued, being mistresse of him, that deserueth (by his chiualrie) to be Lord of all the world. Now it is time to wake the Ladies, & end our discourse. Here-withall shee began to read againe in her booke, and at that instant the Ladies that were asleepe, be­gan to breath as if they had beene ouerwearied, and shortly after they rose vp, but when the Damosell of Denmarke perceiued, that shee was laied in such sort naked in the mid­dest of the chamber, there was ne­uer woman more amased then she, the which when Oriana perceiued, shee demanded (smiling to her selfe) if shee were come thither to seeke fresh aire. By my faith Ma­dame, answered she, I know neither who brought me hither, nor can I remember how I came hither. Whereat they all began to laugh: and after they were ready they went vnto the Kings lodging, whome they foūd together with the Queen in the church: and so soone as ser­uice was ended, the King came vn­to Vrganda, and bid her good mor­row, and shee after her duty done vnto his Maiestie, saide, that if it were his pleasure to cause the Knights and Ladies in his Court to assemble together, that before her departure (which should bee very shortly) shee would declare something before them that shold happen vnto him, heereupon the King appointed a large hall to bee made ready, in the which the next morning a great number of Lords and Ladies were come. Then Vr­ganda beeing in the midst of them all, addressing her speech vnto the King, shee saide vnto him. Seeing that your Maiestie hath kept the letters which I did write vnto you and Galaor, presently after the Fair Forlorne had obtained the burning sword, and the Damosell the ker­cheife with flowres, it may please you now to cause them to be read, that euery one may plainely know that I am not ignorant of things before they happen. Heereupon hee sent for them, and they were read before al the assistance, where­by it plainely appeared that shee had wholly foretold the manner of the battaile, euen as it happened out, and they all greatly wondred thereat, especially at the stout hears of the King, that would be in a bat­taile so dangerous, when hee was before hand threatned so rigorous­ly by his better. In like sort was it [Page 136] certainly known that the Faire For­lorne had been the cause of the vic­tory, by the three blowes that hee gaue. The first when he cast King Cildadan at Galaors feet, the second in killing Sarmadan the Leonnois, and the third when hee succoured the king, whom the stout Mandafa­bul of the virmillion tower did car­ry vnto his ships, whose arme hee cut off close by the elbow, which was the cause of his present death. And in like sort that which she had said of Galaor was come to passe, for his head was certainly at the mercy of the Faire Forlorne, at that time when the Damosels deman­ded to carry him away. But now, said Vrganda, I will tell you in order that which must happen, great contention shall arise between the mighty serpent & the strong Lion, which shall be aided by many cru­ell beasts, they shall come with such fury, that a great numder of them shall suffer most cruel death. The subtill Roman foxe shall bee wounded with the clawes of the strong Lyon, and his skin shall be cruelly torne, wherewith the migh­ty serpent shall bee brought into wonderfull perplexitie. In this time the me [...]ke sheepe couered with blacke wooll, shall come into the midst of them, who by his great hu­militie and pittifull bleatings, shal pacific the pride and fiercenesse of their courages, causing them to de­part one from the other, but pre­sently the starued wolues shall dis­cend from the steepe mountaines against the mighty serpent, who being by them put to fight with a great part of his traine, shall bee closed vp in one of his dens. The tender licorne putting his mouth to the eare of the fierce Lion, shall awake him out of his sound sleepe with his loud crye, making him afterwards to take part of his beasts, with the which hee shall speedily goe to the succour of the mighty serpent, whom they shall finde so bitten and wounded by these star­ued wolues, that his blood shall bee aboundantly shed vpon the earth, at the same time shall he be deliuered from the teeth of the wolues, and they be cut in pieces. Then the life of the mighty serpent being restored (leauing within his den all the poyson of his entrails) he shall bee contented to put him-selfe betweene the clawes of the strong Lyon, and the white hind, who in the dreadfull Forrest did lift vp her greeues to Heauen, shall bee taken from thence and called home againe. Wherefore noble King, may it please your Maiestie to cause this to bee written, which before all this company I haue vt­tered, for there is no doubt but all this shall come to passe. I will so doe, answered hee, seeing it plea­seth you, but I beleeue there is not any of vs that at the present vnder­stands this prophesie. Assure you, saide shee, that a time will come when it shall be manifested vnto all of you. So saying she cast her eies vpon Amadis, whom she perceiued to be maruailous pensiue, and said vnto him. My Lord Amadis, you muse vpon that which cannot a­uaile you, wherefore expel this fan­cy from your minde, and harken vnto a match that you shall make, wherein you shall get little gaine. At such time as you shal be woun­ded to death in the defence of an­others life, the smart being yours, and the profit his, the recompence that you shall reape thereby, shall be a wonderfull discontent, and a banishment from that whereun­to you shall most desire to ap­proach. Then shall your good [Page 137] rich and sharpe Sword so bruise your bones, and in so many places wound your flesh, that with the losse of your blood you shall be­come very feeble, and moreouer you shall bee so sharpely pursued, that if halfe the world were yours, you would giue it, that your sword were cast into the bottom of some deepe lake, from whence it could neuer be taken forth againe, there­fore bethinke you of your destiny, which shall be such as I haue fore­told you. Amadis seeing that eue­ry one had their eyes fixed vpon him, looked vp with a smiling countenance and answered Vrgan­da, Madame, by the things that are already come to passe wherof you foretold vs, we may wel credit and beleeue that which now you tell vs, and knowing that I am mortal, I am very sure that my life shall not be prolonged one minute longer then it pleaseth God, and therfore whilst I may, I will endeauour to gaine some reputation, rather then seeke to conserue my life, Not­withstanding if any perill were to be doubted, I should haue more occasion to feare those that doe hourely happen vnto mee, then such as are hidden & yet to come. I know well said Vrganda that it is more easie to draw the Sea drie, then afright your vndaunted and magnanimious courage with any further dread of danger. And be­cause if it please your Maiesty (said shee to the king) that I must pre­sently take my leaue of you, re­member I beseech you what I haue aduertised you of, before this great and honourable company, as shee that desireth the honour and pro­fit of your Maiesty, and stop your eares henceforth from those, whose words you shall know to be vniust and peruerse. Herewithall she arose from her place and al the company in like fort, and shortly after she tooke leaue of the King, and of the rest of his court, which done she returned into her galley, accompanied onely with the foure knights that had conducted her to the Court, who hauing seene her embarked, returned backe to the Citty, but they had no sooner tur­ned their backs, when a thicke and great Cloude so ouershaddowed the ship, that presently they lost the sight thereof.