And you fair Lady Knight, my dearest Dame,
Relent the Rigour of your wrathful Will,
Whofe Fire were better turn'd to other Flame;
And wiping out Remembrance of all Ill,
Graunt him your Grace; but fo that he fulfil
The Penaunce, which ye fhall to him impart :
For Lover's Heaven must pass by Sorrow's Hell.
Thereat full inly blushed Britomart:
But Arthegal, clofe smiling, joy'd in fecret Heart.
XXXIII.
Yet durft he not make Love fo fuddenly,
Ne think th' Affection of her Heart to draw
From one to other fo quite contrary:
Befides, her modeft Countenance he faw
So goodly grave, and full of princely Awe,
That it his ranging Fancy did refrain,
And loofer Thoughts to lawful Bounds with-draw;
Whereby the Paffion grew more fierce and fain,
Like to a stubborn Steed whom ftrong Hand would reftrain.
XXXIV.
But Scudamore, whofe Heart 'twixt doubtful Fear
And feeble Hope hung all this while suspense,
Defiring of his Amoret to hear
Some gladful News and fure Intelligence,
Her thus befpake; But, Sir, without Offence
Mote I request you Tidings of my Love,
My Amoret, fith you her freed from thence,
Where the captived long, great Woes did prove;
That where ye left, I may her feek, as doth behove.
To whom thus Britomart; Certes, Sir Knight,
What is of her become, or whither reft,
I cannot unto you aread aright.
For from that time I from Enchaunter's Theft
Her freed, in which ye her all hopeless left,
I her preferv'd from Peril and from Fear,
And evermore from Villany her kept:
Ne ever was there Wight to me more dear
Than fhe, ne unto whom I more true Love did bear.
Till on a day, as thro a Defart wild
We travelled, both weary of the way,
We did alight, and fate in Shadow mild;
Where fearless I to fleep me down did lay.
But when-as I did out of Sleep abray,
I found her not, where I her left whileare,
But thought she wandred was, or gone aftray.
I call'd her loud, I fought her far and near;
But no where could her find, nor Tidings of her hear.
XXXVII.
When Scudamore thofe heavy Tidings heard,
His Heart was thrill'd with point of deadly Fear;
Ne in his Face or Blood or Life appear'd,
But fenflefs ftood, like to a mazed Steer,
That yet of mortal Stroke the Stound doth bear:
Till Glauce thus; Fair Sir, be nought difmay'd
With needlefs Dread, till Certainty ye hear:
For yet fhe may be fafe, tho fomewhat ftray'd;
It's best to hope the beft, tho of the worst afraid.
XXXVIII.
Nath'lefs, he hardly of her chearful Speech
Did Comfort take, or in his troubled Sight
Shew'd Change of better Chear: fo fore a Breach
That fudden News had made into his Spright;
Till Britomart him fairly thus behight;
Great cause of Sorrow, certes Sir ye have:
But Comfort take; for by this Heaven's Light
I vow, you dead or living not to leave,
Till I her find, and wreak on him that her did reave.
XXXIX.
Therewith he refted, and well pleafed was.
So Peace being confirm'd amongst them all,
They took their Steeds, and forward thence did pafs
Unto fome Refting-place which mote befal;
All being guided by Sir Arthegal.
Where goodly Solace was unto them made,
And daily feafting both in Bower and Hall,
Until that they their Wounds well healed had,
And weary Limbs recur'd, after late Ufage bad.
In all which time, Sir Arthegal made way
Unto the Love of noble Britomart:
And with meek Service and much Suit did lay
Continual Siege unto her gentle Heart;
Which being whilom launc'd with lovely Dart,
More eath was new Impreffion to receive,
However the her pain'd with womanish Art
To hide her Wound, that none might it perceive:
Vain is the Art that feeks it felf for to deceive.
So well he woo'd her, and fo well he wrought her,
With fair Entreaty and sweet Blandishment,
That at the length unto a Bay he brought her,
So as the to his Speeches was content
To lend an Ear, and foftly to relent:
At laft, thro many Vows which forth he pour'd,
And many Oaths, fhe yielded her Confent
To be his Love, and take him for her Lord,
Till they with Marriage meet might finish that accord.
XLII.
Tho when they had long time there taken Reft,
Sir Arthegal (who all this while was bound
Upon an hard Adventure yet in queft)
Fit time for him thence to depart it found,
To follow that, which he did long propound;
And unto her his Congee came to take.
But her therewith full fore difpleas'd he found,
And loth to leave her late betrothed Mate;
Her dearest Love full loth fo fhortly to forfake.
XLIII.
Yet he with ftrong Perfuafions her affuag'd,
And won her Will to fuffer him depart;
For which his Faith with her he faft engag'd,
And thoufand Vows from bottom of his Heart,
That all fo foon as he by Wit or Art
Could that atchieve, whereto he did afpire,
He unto her would speedily revert :
No longer Space thereto he did defire,
But till the horned Moon three Courfes did expire.
With which the far the prefent was appeas'd,
And yielded Leave, however malecontent
She inly were, and in her Mind difpleas'd.
So early on the morrow next he went
Forth on his way, to which he was ybent;
Ne Wight him to attend, or way to guide,
As whilom was the Cuftom antient
'Mongft Knights, when on Adventures they did ride, Save that the algates him awhile accompany'd.
And by the way, the fundry Purpose found
Of this or that, the time for to delay,
And of the Perils whereto he was bound,
The Fear whereof feem'd much her to affray :
But all fhe did was but to wear out Day.
Full oftentimes fhe Leave of him did take;
And eft again deviz'd somewhat to say,
Which the forgot, whereby excufe to makę:
So loth fhe was his Company for to forfake.
XLVI.
At last, when all her Speeches the had spent,
And new Occafion fail'd her more to find,
She left him to his Fortune's Government,
And back returned with right heavy Mind,
To Scudamore, whom the had left behind:
With whom he went to feek fair Amoret,
Her fecond Care, tho in another kind;
For Vertue's only fake (which doth beget
True Love and faithful Friendship) fhe by her did fet.
XLVII.
Back to that defert Foreft they retir'd, Where forry Britomart had loft her late; There they her fought, and every where enquir'd, Where they might Tidings get of her Eftate: Yet found they none. But by what hapless Fate, Or hard Misfortune fhe was thence convey'd, And ftoln away from her beloved Mate, Were long to tell; therefore I here will stay Until another Tide, that I it finish may.
CANTO VII.
Amoret, rap'd by greedy Luft,
Belphoebe faves from Dread:
The Squire her loves, and being blam'd,
His Days in Dole doth lead.
REAT God of Love, that with thy cruel Darts
Doft conquer greatest Conquerors on ground,
And fet'ft thy Kingdom in the captive Hearts
Of Kings and Cæfars to thy Service bound,
What Glory, or what Guerdon haft thou found
In feeble Ladies tyranning fo fore;
And adding Anguifh to the bitter Wound,
With which their Lives thou launced ft long afore,
By heaping Storms of Trouble on them daily more?
So whilom didft thou to fair Florimel,
And fo unto the noble Britomart :
So doft thou now to her, of whom I tell,
The lovely Amoret; whofe gentle Heart
Thou martyreft with Sorrow and with Smart,
In falvage Forefts, and in Defarts wide,
With Bears and Tygers taking heavy part,
Withouten Comfort, and withouten Guide;
That pity is to hear the Perils which she try'd.
III.
So foon as fhe, with that brave Britonefs,
Had left that Turneyment for Beauty's Prize,
They travel'd long; that now for Weariness,
Both of the way and warlike Exercife,
Both thro a Foreft riding, did devife
Talight, and reft their weary Limbs awhile.
There heavy Sleep the Eye-lids did furprise
Of Britomart after long tedious Toil,
That did her paffed Pains in quiet Rest affoil.
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