XII.

But to occafion him to further talk,

To feed her humour with this pleasing stile, Her lift in ftrife-full terms with him to balk, And thus replide; However, Sir, ye file Your courteous tongue his praises to compile, It ill befeems a Knight of gentle fort, Such as ye have him boafted, to beguile A fimple maid, and work fo heinous tort, In fhame of knighthood, as I largely can report. XIII.

Let be therefore my vengeance to diffuade,

And read, where I that faytour falfe may find. Ah, but if reason fair might you perfuade, To flake your wrath, and mollifie your mind, Said he, perhaps ye fhould it better find: For hardy thing it is, to ween by might, That man to hard conditions to bind, Or ever hope to match in equal fight; Whose prowess paragon faw never living wight.

XIV.

Ne foothlich is it eafie for to read,

Where now on earth, or how he may be found; For he ne wonneth in one certain ftead, But reftlefs walketh all the world around, Ay doing things, that to his fame redound, Defending Ladies caufe, and Orphans right, Wherefo he hears, that any doth confound Them comfortless, through tyranny or might; So is his foveraine honour rais'd to heavens height. XV.

;

His feeling words her feeble fenfe much pleas'd,
And foftly funk into her molten heart
Heart that is inly hurt, is greatly eas'd
With hope of thing that may allay his fmart;
For pleafing words are like to magick art,
That doth the charmed fnake in flumber lay:
Such fecret eafe felt gentle Britomart,

Yet lift the fame efforce with feignd gainfay; (So difcord oft in mufick makes the fweeter lay.)

XVI.

And faid, Sir knight, thefe idle terms forbear,
And fith it is úneath to find his haunt,
Tell me fome marks, by which he may appear,
If chance I him encounter paravaunt;

[sted,

For perdy one shall other flay, or daunt:
What shape, what fhield, what arms, what fteed, what
And whatfo elfe his perfon moft may vaunt;
All which the Redcrofs knight to point ared,
And him, in every part before her fashioned.
XVII.

Yet him in every part before fhe knew,
However lift her now her knowledge feign,
Sith him whilome in Baitain fhe did view,
To her revealed in a mirrour plain;
Whereof did grow her first engraffed pain;
Whofe root and ftalk fo bitter yet did tafte,
That but the fruit more fweetnefs did contain,
Her wretched days in dolour fhe mote wafte,
And yield the prey of love to loathsome death at laft.
XVIII.

By ftrange occafion fhe did him behold,

And much more ftrangely 'gan to love his fight,
As it in books hath written been of old.
In Debeubarth that now South-Wales is hight,
What time King Ryence reign'd, and dealed right.
The great magician Merlin had deviz'd,

By his deep science and hell-dreaded might,

A Looking-glafs right wondroufly aguiz'd, [niz'd, Whofe virtues through the wide world foon were folemXIX.

It vertue had, to fhew in perfect fight,

What-ever thing was in the world contain'd,
Betwixt the loweft earth and heavens height,
So that it to the looker appertain'd;

Whatever foe had wrought, or friend had feign'd,
Therein difcover'd was, ne ought mote pass,
Ne ought in fecret from the fame remain'd;
Forthy it round and hollow fhaped was,

Like to the world it felf, and feem'd a world of glass,

XX.

Who wonders not, that reads fo wondrous work?
But who does wonder that has read the towre,
Wherein th❜Egyptian Phao long did lurk

From all mens view, and none might her difcoure,
Yet fhe might all men view out of her bowre?
Great Ptolomy it for his Lemans fake
Ybuilded all of glafs, by magick powre,

And also it impregnable did make;

Yet when his Love was falfe, he with a peaze it brake, XXI.

Such was the glaffy globe that Merlin made,
And gave unto King Ryence for his guard,
That never foes his Kingdom might invade,
But he it knew at home before he heard
Tidings thereof, and fo them ftill debard.
It was a famous prefent for a Prince,
And worthy work of infinite reward,

That treafons could bewray, and foes convince,
Happy this realm, had it remained ever fince,
XXII.

One day it fortuned, fair Britomart

Into her fathers closet to repair;

For nothing he from her referv'd apart,
Being his only daughter and his heir:
Where when the had efpide that mirrour fair,
Her felf awhile therein the view'd in vain,
Tho her avizing of the vertues rare,

Which thereof Ipoken were, fhe 'gan again
Her to bethink of that mote to her felf pertain.
XXIII.

But as it falleth in the gentleft hearts
Imperious Love hath higheft fet his throne,
And tyrannizeth in the bitter fmarts

Of them, that to him buxom are and prone:
So thought this maid (as maidens ufe to done)
Whom fortune for her husband would allot,
Not that fhe lufted after any one;

For fhe was pure from blame of finful blot,
Yet wift her life at laft muft link in that fame knot.

XXIV.

Eftfoons there was prefented to her eye,

A comely Knight, all arm'd in compleat wife,
Through whofe bright ventaile lifted up on high
His manly face, that did his foes agrile,
And friends to terms of gentle truce entise,
Lookt forth, as Phebus face out of the eaft
Betwixt two fhady mountains doth arise;
Portly his person was, and much increaft
Through his heroick grace, and honourable geft.
XXV.

His creft was cover'd with a couchant hound,
And all his armour feem'd of antique mould,
But wondrous maffy and affured found,
And round about yfretted all with gold,
In which there written was with cyphers old,
Achilles arms, which Arthegall did win.
And on his fhield envelop'd sevenfold
He bore a crowned little ermilin,

That deckt the azure field with her fair pouldred skin.
XXVI.

The Damzel well did view his perfonage,
And liked well, ne further faftned not,
But went her way; ne her unguilty age
Did ween, unwares, that her unlucky lot
Lay hidden in the bottom of the pot;
Of hurt unwift most danger doth redound;
But the falfe archer, which that arrow fhot
So flily, that he did not feel the wound,

Did fmile full smoothly at her weetlefs woeful stound.
XXVII.

Thenceforth the feather in her lofty crest,
Ruffed of love, 'gan lowly to avail,

And her proud portance, and her princely geft,
With which the earft triumphed, now did quail:
Sad, folemn, foure, and full of fancies frail
She wox; yet wift fhe neither how, nor why,
She wift not, filly maid, what she did ail;
Yet wift, fhe was not well at ease perdy,

Yet thought it was not love, but fome melancholy.

XXVIII.

So foon as night had with her pallid hue
Defac'd the beauty of the fhining sky,
And reft from men the worlds defired view,
She with her nurse adown to fleep did lye;
But fleep full far away from her did fly:
Instead thereof fad fighs and forrows deep
Kept watch and ward about her warily;
That nought she did but wail, and often steep
Her dainty couch with tears, which closely fhe did weep.

XXIX.

And if that any drop of flumbring rest

Did chance to ftill into her weary spright,
When feeble nature felt her self oppreft;
Streightway with dreams, and with fantastick fight
Of dreadful things the fame was put to flight,
That oft out of her bed fhe did aftart,

As one with view of ghaftly fiends affright:
Tho 'gan fhe to renew her former smart,
And think of that fair vifage written in her heart.
XXX.

One night, when she was toft with fuch unreft,'
Her aged nurse, whofe name was Glaucé hight,
Feeling her leap out of her loathed neft,
Betwixt her feeble arms her quickly keight,
And down again in her warm bed her dight;
Ah my dear daughter, ah my dearest dread,
What uncouth fit, faid fhe, what evil plight
Hath thee oppreft, and with fad drearyhead
Changed thy lively chear, and living made thee dead?
XXXI.

For not of nought these fuddain ghaftly fears
All night afflict thy natural repofe;
And all the day whenas thine equal peers
Their fit difports with fair delight do chofe,
Thou in dull corners doft thy felf inclofe,
Ne tafteft Princes pleafures, ne doft fpred
Abroad thy fresh youths faireft flowre, but lofe
Both leaf and fruit, both too untimely fhed,
As one in wilful bale for ever buried,