And now he hath to her prefix'd a day,
By which, if that no champion do appear,
Which will her caufe in battailous array
Against him justifie, and prove her clear
Of all thofe crimes that he 'gainft her doth rear,
She death fhall fure aby. Those tidings fad
Did much abafh Sir Arthegal to hear,
And grieved fore, that through his fault fhe had
Fallen into that tyrants hand and ufage bad.
Then thus replide; Now fure and by my life,
Too much am I to blame for that fair Maid,
That have her drawn to all this troublous ftrife,
Through promife to afford her timely aid,
Which by default I have not yet defraid,
But witnefs unto me, ye heavens, that know
How clear I am from blame of this upbraid:
For ye into like thraldom me did throw,
And kept from 'complishing the faith which I did owe.
XLII.
But now aread, Sir Sergis, how long space
Hath he her lent a champion to provide:
Ten days quoth he, he granted hath of
grace,
For that he weeneth well, before that tide
None can have tidings to affist her side.
For all the fhores, which to the fea accoft,
He day and night doth ward both far and wide,
That none can there arrive without an hoft:
So her he deems already but a damned ghoft.
XLIII.
Now turn again, Sir Arthegal then faid:
For if I live till thofe ten days have end,
Affure your felf, Sir Knight, fhe shall have aid,
Though I this deareft life for her do fpend;
So backward he attone with him did wend.
Tho as they rode together on their way,
A rout of people they before them kend,
Flocking together in confus'd array,
As if that there were fome tumultous affray.
To which as they approacht, the caufe to know,
They faw a Knight in dangerous diftrefs
Of a rude rout, him chafing to and fro,
That fought with lawlefs powre him to opprefs,
And bring in bondage of their brutishness :
And far away, amid their rakehell bands,
They fpide a Lady left all fuccourless
Crying, and holding up her wretched hands.
To him for aid, who long in vain their
Yet still he strives, ne any peril fpares,
To rescue her from their rude violence,
And like a Lion wood amongst them fares,
Dealing his dreadful blows with large difpence;
Gainst which the pallid death finds no defence.
But all in vain their numbers are fo great,
That nought may boot to banish them from thence:
For foon as he their outrage back doth beat,
They turn afrefh, and oft renew their former threat.
XLVI.
And now they do fo fharply him affay,
That they his fhield in pieces batter'd have,
And forced him to throw it quite away.
From dangers dread his doubtful life to fave;
Albe that it moft fafety to him gave,
And much did magnifie his noble name.
For from the day that he thus did it leave,
Amongst all Knights he blotted was with blame,
And counted but a recreant Knight with endless fhame.
XLVII.
Whom when they thus diftreffed did behold,
They drew unto his aid: but that rude rout
Them alfo 'gan affail with outrage bold,
And forced them, however ftrong and stout
They were, as well approv'd in many a doubt,
Back to recule; until that iron man
With his huge flail began to lay about;
From whofe ftern prefence they diffused ran,
Like fcatt'red chaff, the which the wind away doth fan.
XLVIII.
So when that Knight from peril clear was freed,
He drawing near, began to greet them fair,
And yield great thanks for their fo goodly deed,
In faving him from dangerous defpair
Of thofe, which fought his life for to empair.
Of whom Sir Arthegal 'gan then enquere
The whole occafion of his late misfare,
And who he was, and what thofe villains were,
The which with mortal malice him purfu'd fo near.
XLIX.
To whom he thus; my name is Burbon hight,
Well known, and far renowned heretofore,
Until late mischief did upon me light,
That all my former praise hath blemisht fore;
And that fair Lady, which in that uprore
Ye with thofe captives faw Flourdelis hight,
Is mine own Love, though me she have forlore,
Whether withheld from me by wrongfull might.
Or with her own good will, I cannot read aright.
L
But fure to me her faith fhe firft did plight,
To be my Love, and take me for her Lord;
Till that a tyrant, which Grantorto hight,
With golden gifts, and many a guileful word
Enticed her to him for to accord.
(O! who may not with gifts and words be tempted?) Sith which the hath me ever fince abhord,
And to my foe hath guilefully confented:
Ay me! that ever guile in women was invented.
And now he hath this troop of villains fent,
By open force to fetch her quite away:
Gainit whom, my felf I long in vain have bent
To refcue her, and daily means affay,
Yet refcue her thence by no means I may:
For they do me with multitude oppress,
And with unequal might do overlay,
That oft I driven am to great distress,
And forced to forgo th'attempt remedilefs.
But why have ye, faid Arthegal, forborne
Your own good fhield in dangerous difmay;
That is the greatest shame and fouleft fcorn,
Which unto any Knight behappen may,
To lofe the badge, that fhould his deeds difplay.
To whom Sir Burbon, blufhing haif for fhame,
That shall I unto you, quoth he, bewray;
Left ye therefore mote happily me blame,
And deem it done of will, that through inforcement came.
LIII.
True is, that I at firft was dubbed Knight
By a good Knight, the Knight of the Redcross;
Who when he gave me arms in field to fight,
Gave me a fhield, in which he did endofs
His dear redeemers badge upon the bofs:
The fame long while I bore, and therewithall
Fought many battles without wound or lofs;
Therewith Grandtorto felf I did appall,
And made him oftentimes in field before me fall.
LIV.
But for that many did that shield envy,
And cruel enemies encreafed more;
To stint all strife and troublous enmity,
That bloody fcutchin being batter'd fore,
I laid afide, and have of late forbore,
Hoping thereby to have my Love obtain❜d:
Yet can I not my Love have nathemore;
For the by force is ftill from me detain'd,
And with corrupted bribes is to untruth miftrain'd.
LV.
To whom thus Arthegal; Certes Sir Knight;
Hard is the cafe the which ye do complain;
Yet not fo hard (for nought fo hard may light,
That it to fuch a ftreight mote ye constrain)
As to abandon that which doth contain
Your honour's ftile: that is your warlike shield
All peril ought be lefs, and lefs all pain
Than lofs of fame in difadventrous field;
Dye rather than do ought that mote difhonour yield.
Not fo, quoth he; for yet when time doth ferve,
My former fhield I may refume again :
To temporize is not from truth to fwerve,
Ne for advantage term to entertain,
Whenas neceflity doth it conftrain.
Fie on fuch forgery, faid Arthegall,
Under one hood to fhadow faces twain.
Knights ought be true, and truth is one in all:
Of all things to diffemble fouly may befall.
LVII.
Yet let me you of courtely request,
Said Burbon, to aflift me now at need
Against these peafants, which have me oppreft,
And forced me to fo infamous deed,
That yet my Love may from their hands be freed.
Sir Arthegal, albe he earft did wyte
His wav'ring mind, yet to his aid agreed,
And buckling him eftfoons unto the fight,
Did fet upon thofe troops with all his powre and might.
LVIII.
Who flocking round about them as a fwarm
Of flies upon a birchen bough doth cluster,
Did them affault with terrible alarm,
And over all the fields themfelves did mufter,
With bills and glayves making a dreadful lufter;
That forc'd at firit thofe Knights back to retire :
As when the wrathful Boreas doth blufter,
Nought may abide the tempeft of his ire,
Both man and beaft do fly, and fuccour do inquire.
LIX.
But whenas overblowen was that brunt,
Thofe Knights began afresh them to affail,
And all about the fields like Squirrels hunt;
But chiefly Talus with his iron flail,
Gainft which no flight nor refcue mote avail,
Made cruel havock of the bafer crew,
And chafed them both over hill and dale.
The rafcall many foon they overthrew ;
But the two Knights themfelves their captains did fubdew.
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