But when she had with such unquiet fits Herself there close afdicted long in vaine, Yet found no easement in her troubled wits, She unto Talus forth return'd againe,
By change of place seeking to ease her paine; And gan enquire of him with mylder mood The certaine cause of Artegals detaine, And what he did, and in what state he stood, And whether he did woo, or whether he were woo'd.
"Ah wellaway!" said then the yron man, "That he is not the while in state to woo; But lies in wretched thraldome, weake and wan, Not by strong hand compelled thereunto, But his owne doome, that none can now undoo." "Sayd I not then," quoth she, "ere-while aright, That this is thinge compacte betwixt you two Me to deceive of faith unto me plight,
Since that he was not forst, nor overcome in fight?"
With that he gan at large to her dilate The whole discourse of his captivance sad, In sort as ye have heard the same of late: All which when she with hard enduraunce had Heard to the end, she was right sore bestad, With sodaine stounds of wrath and grief attone; Ne would abi le, till she had auns were made; But streight herselfe did dight, and armor don, And mounting to her steede bad Talus guide her on.
So forth she rode uppon her ready way, To seeke her knight, as Talus her did guide: Sadly she rode and never word did say Nor good nor bad, ne ever lookt aside,
But still right downe; and in her thought did hide The felnesse of her heart, right fully bent To fierce avengement of that womans pride, Which had her lord in her base prison pent, And so great honour with so fowle reproch had blent.
So as she thus melancholicke did ride, Chawing the cud of griefe and inward paine, She chaunst to meete toward the eventide A knight, that softly paced on the plaine, As if himselfe to solace he were faine: Well shot in yeares he seem'd, and rather bent To peace then needlesse trouble to constraine; As well by view of that his vestiment, As by his modest semblant, that no evill mert.
He comming neare gan gently her salute With curteous words, in the most comely wize; Who though desirous rather to rest mute, Then termes to entertaine of common guize, Yet rather then she kindnesse would despize, She would herselte displease, so him requite. Then gan the other further to devize
Of things abrode, as next to hand did light,
And many things demaund, to which she answer'd light:
For little lust had she to talke of ought, Or ought to heare that mote delightfull bee; Her minde was whole possessed of one thought, That gave none other place. Which when as hee By outward signes (as well he might) did see, He list no lenger to use lothfull speach, But her besought to take it well in gree, Sith shady dampe had dimd the heavens reach, To lodge with him that night, unless good cause em. peach.
The championesse, now seeing night at dore, Was glad to yeeld unto his good request; And with him went without gaine-saying more. Not farre away, but little wide by west, His dwelling was, to which he him addrest; Where soone arriving they received were In seemely wise, as them beseemed best; For he their host them goodly well did cheare, And talk't of pleasant things the night away to weare.
Thus passing th' evening well, till time of rest, Then Britomart unto a bowre was brought; Where groomes awayted her to have undrest: But she ne would undressed be for ought,
Ne doffe her armes, though he her much besought: For she had vow'd, she sayd, not to forgo Those warlike weedes, till she revenge had wrought Of a late wrong uppon a mortall foe;
Which she would sure performe betide her wele or
Which when their host perceiv'd, right discontent In minde he grew, for feare least by that art He should his purpose misse, which close he ment⚫ Yet taking leave of her he did depart :
There all that night remained Britomart, Restlesse, reconfortlesse, with heart deepe-grieved, Not suffering the least twinckling sleepe to start Into her eye, which th' heart mote have relieved; But if the least appear'd, her eyes she streight re- prieved.
"Ye guilty eyes," sayd she, "the which with guyle My heart at first betrayd, will ye betray My life now too, for which a little whyle Ye will not watch? false watches, wellaway! I wote when ye did watch both night and day Unto your losse; and now needes will ye sleepe? Now ye have made my heart to wake alway, Now will ye sleepe? ah! wake, and rather weepe To thinke of your nights want, that should yee wa. king keepe."
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