XII.

Dark was the evening, fit for Lovers ftealth,
When chanft Malbecco bufie be elfe-where,
She to his clofet went, where all his wealth
Lay hid: thereof the countless fums did rear,
The which fhe meant away with her to bear;
The reft, fhe fir'd for fport, or for despight;
As Hellen, when the faw aloft
appear
The Trojan flames, and reach to heavens height,
Did clap her hands, and joyed at that doleful fight.
XIII.

This fecond Hellen, fair Dame Hellenore,

The whiles her husband ran with forry hafte
To quench the flames which she had tin'd before,
Laught at his foolish labour spent in wafte;
And ran into her Lovers arms right faft;
Where ftraight embraced, fhe to him did cry,
And call aloud for help, ere help were paft;
For lo, that gueft would bear her forcibly,
And meant to ravish her, that rather had to dye.
XIV.

The wretched man, hearing her call for aid,
And ready feeing him with her to fly,
In his difquiet mind was much dismaid:
But when again he backward caft his eye,
And faw the wicked fire fo furiously
Confume his heart, and fcorch his idols face,
He was there-with diftreffed diversly,

Ne wift he how to turn, nor to what place;
Was never wretched man in fuch a woeful cafe.
XV.

Ay when to him the cride, to her he turn'd,
And left the fire; Love, money overcame :
But, when he marked how his money burn'd,
He left his wife; money did Love disclaim :
Both was he loth to lofe his loved Dame,
And loth to leave his liefeft pelf behind,
Yet fith he n'ote fave both, he fav'd that fame
Which was the deareft to his dunghill mind,
The God of his defire, the joy of mifers blind.

XVI.

Thus whilst all things in troublous uproar were,
And all men bufie to fupprefs the flame,
The loving couple need no rescue fear,
But leisure had, and liberty to frame

Their purposd flight, free from all mens reclame;
And Night (the patronefs of love-ftealth fair)
Gave him fafe conduct, till to end they came :
So been they gone yfere (a wanton pair

Of Lovers loosely knit) where lift them to repair.
XVII.

Soon as the cruel flames yflacked were,
Malbecco, feeing how his lofs did lie,

Out of the flames, which he had quencht whylere
Into huge waves of grief and jealoufie
Full deep emplonged was, and drowned nigh,
Twixt inward dool and felonous defpight;
He rav'd, he wept, he stampt, he loud did cry,
And all the paffions that in man may light,
Did him attonce opprefs, and vex his caitive fpright.
XVIII,

Long thus he chawd the cud of inward grief,
And did confume his gall with anguish fore:
Still when he mufed on his late mischief,
Then ftill the fmart thereof increased more,
And feem'd more grievous than it was before:
At laft, when forrow he faw booted nought,
Ne grief might not his Love to him restore,
He 'gan devife, how her he refcue mought,
Ten thousand ways he caft in his confufed thought.
XIX.

At laft, refolving like a pilgrim poor

To fearch her forth, where fo fhe might be fond,
And bearing with him treasure in close store,
The rest he leaves in ground: So takes in hond
To feek her endlong, both by fea and lond.
Long he her fought, he fought her far and near,
And
every where that he mote understond,

Of Knights and Ladies any meetings were,
And of each one he met, he tidings did inquere.

XX.

But all in vain, his woman was too wife,
Ever to come into his clouch again,
And he too fimple ever to furprise
The jolly Paridell, for all his pain.
One day, as he fore- paffed by the plain
With weary pace, he far away efpide.
A couple (feeming well to be his twain)
Which hoved clofe under a forest fide,

As if they lay in wait, or else themselves did hide.
XXI.

Well weened he, that thofe the fame mote be:
And as he better did their fhape avize,
Him feemed more their manner did agree;
For th'one was armed all in warlike wize,
Whom to be Paridell he did devize;
And th' other, all yclad in garments light,
Difcolour'd like to womanifh difguize,
He did refemble to his Lady bright;
And ever his faint heart much yearned at the fight.
XXII.

And ever fain he towards them would go,
But yet durft not for dread approachen nigh,
But ftood aloof, unweeting what to do;
Till that prickt forth with loves extremity,
That is the father of foul jealousie,
He closely nearer crept, the truth to weet:
But, as he nigher drew, he eafily

Might 'fcern, that it was not his sweetest sweet,
Ne yet her Belamour, the partner of his fheet.
XXIII.

But it was fcornful Braggadochio,

That with his fervant Trompart hover'd there,
Since late he fled from his too earneft foe:
Whom fuch whenas Malbecco fpyed clear,
He turned back, and would have fled arear;
Till Trompart running hast'ly, him did stay,
And bade before his foveraine Lord appear:
That was him loth, yet durft he not gain-fay,
And coming him before, low louted on the lay.

XXIV.

The boaster at him fternly bent his brow,

As if he could have kill'd him with his look, That to the ground him meekly made to bow, And aweful terror deep into him ftrook, That every member of his body quook. Said he, thou man of nought, what doft thou here, Unfitly furnisht with thy bag and book, Where I expected one with fhield and spear, Το prove fome deeds of arms upon an equal peer.

XXV.

The wretched man, at his imperious fpeech,
Was all abasht, and low proftrating, faid,
Good Sir, let not my rudeness be a breach
Unto your patience, ne be ill ypaid;
For I unwares this way by fortune ftrayd,
A filly Pilgrim driven to diftrefs,

That feek a Lady. There he fuddain ftayd,
And did the rest with grievous fighs fupprefs,

While tears flood in his eyes (few drops of bitterness.)
XXVI.

What Lady, man? faid Trompart, take good heart,
And tell thy grief, if any hidden lye;
Was never better time to fhew thy smart
Than now, that noble fuccour is thee by,
That is the whole worlds common remedy.
That chearful word his weak heart much did chear,
And with vain hope his fpirits faint fupply,
That bold he faid; O moft redoubted Peer,
Vouchsafe with mild regard a wretches cafe to hear.
XXVII.

Then fighing fore, It is not long, faid he,
Since I enjoy'd the gentleft Dame alive;
Of whom a Knight, no Knight at all perdee,
But fhame of all that do for honour strive,
By treacherous deceipt did me deprive;
Through open out-rage he her bore away,
And with foul force unto his will did drive,
Which all good Knights, that arms do bear this day,
Are bound for to revenge, and punish if they may.

XXVIII.

And you (most noble Lord) that can and dare
Redress the wrong of miferable wight,
Cannot employ your moft victorious spear
In better quarrel, than defence of right,
And for a Lady 'gainst a faithless Knight;
So fhall your glory be advanced much,
And all fair Ladies magnify your might,
And eke my felf (albe I fimple fuch)

Your worthy pain shall well reward with guerdon rich.
XXIX.

With that, out of his bouget forth he drew
Great ftore of treasure, there-with him to tempt;
But he on it lookt fcornfully askew,

As much difdeigning to be fo misdempt,
Or a war-monger to be bafely nempt;
And faid; Thy offers base I greatly loath,
And eke thy words uncourteous and unkempt;
I tread in duft thee and thy money both,

That, were it not for fhame; So turned from him wroth.
XXX.

But Trompart, that his masters humour knew,
In lofty looks to hide an humble mind,
Was inly tickled with that golden view,
And in his ear him rounded close behind :
Yet ftoopt he not, but lay ftill in the wind,
Waiting advantage on the prey to seise;
Till Trompart lowly to the ground inclin'd,
Befought him his great courage to appease,
And pardon fimple man, that rafh did him difplease.
XXXI.

Big looking, like a doughty Doucëpere,

At laft he thus; Thou clod of vileft clay, I pardon yield, and with thy rudeness bear; But weet henceforth, that all that golden prey, And all that else the vain world vaunten may, I loath as dung, ne deem my due reward: Fame is my meed, and glory vertues pay. But minds of mortal men are muchell mar'd, And mov'd amifs with mafie mucks unmeet regard.