CANTO V.

Artegall fights with Radigund,
And is subdew'd by guile:

He is by her emprisoned,

But wrought by Clarins wile.

I.

So soone as Day forth dawning from the east
Nights humid curtaine from the heavens withdrew,
And earely calling forth both man and beast.
Commaunded them their daily workes renew;
These noble Warriors, mindefull to pursew
The last daies purpose of their vowed fight,
Themselves thereto preparde in order dew;
The Knight, as best was seeming for a Knight,
And th' Amazon, as best it likt herselfe to dight.

II.

All in a Camis light of purple silke

Woven uppon with silver, subtly wrought, And quilted uppon sattin white as milke; Trayled with ribbands diversly distraught, Like as the workeman had their courses taught; Which was short tucked for light motion Up to her ham; but, when she list, it raught Downe to her lowest heele, and thereuppon She wore for her defence a mayled habergeon.

III. '

And on her legs she painted buskins wore,
Basted with bends of gold on every side,
And mailes betweene, and laced close afore;
Uppon her thigh her cemitare was tide
With an embrodered belt of mickell pride;
And on her shoulder hung her shield, bedeckt
Uppon the bosse with stones that shined wide,
As the faire moone in her most full aspect;
That to the moone it mote be like in each respect.

IV.

So forth she came out of the citty-gate

With stately port and proud magnificence,
Guarded with many Damzels that did waite
Uppon her person for her sure defence,

Playing on shaumes and trumpets, that from hence
Their sound did reach unto the heavens hight:
So forth into the field she marched thence,
Where was a rich pavilion ready pight

Her to receive, till time they should begin the fight.

V.

Then forth came Artegall out of his tent,

All arm'd to point, and first the lists did enter:
Soone after eke came she with full intent

And countenaunce fierce, as having fully bent her
That battels utmost triall to adventer.

The lists were closed fast, to barre the rout
From rudely pressing on the middle center;

Which in great heapes them circled all about,

Wayting how fortune would resolve that dangerous dout.

VI.

The trumpets sounded, and the field began;
With bitter strokes it both began and ended.
She at the first encounter on him ran

With furious rage, as if she had intended
Out of his breast the very heart have rended:
But he, that had like tempests often tride,
From that first flaw himselfe right well defended.
The more she rag'd, the more he did abide ;
She hewd, she foynd, she lasht, she laid on every side.

VII.

Yet still her blowes he bore, and her forbore,
Weening at last to win advantage new;
Yet still her crueltie increased more,

And, though powre faild, her courage did accrew;
Which fayling, he gan fiercely her pursew:
Like as a smith that to his cunning feat
The stubborne mettall seeketh to subdew,

Soone as he feeles it mollifide with heat,
With his great yron sledge doth strongly on it beat.

VIII.

So did Sir Artegall upon her lay,

As if she had an yron andvile beene,

That flakes of fire, bright as the sunny ray, Out of her steely armes were flashing seene, That all on fire ye would her surely weene: But with her shield so well herselfe she warded From the dread daunger of his weapon keene, That all that while her life she safely garded; But he that helpe from her against her will discarded:

IX.

For with his trenchant blade at the next blow
Halfe of her shield he shared quite away,
That halfe her side itselfe did naked show,
And thenceforth unto daunger opened way.
Much was she moved with the mightie sway
Of that sad stroke, that halfe enrag'd she grew;
And like a greedie beare unto her pray

With her sharpe cemitare at him she flew,

[drew.

That glauncing downe his thigh the purple bloud forth

X.

Thereat she gan to triumph with great boast,

And to upbrayd that chaunce which him misfell,
As if the prize she gotten had almost,

With spightfull speaches, fitting with her well;
That his great hart gan inwardly to swell
With indignation at her vaunting vaine,

And at her strooke with puissaunce fearefull fell;
Yet with her shield she warded it againe,
That shattered all to pieces round about the plaine.

XI.

Having her thus disarmed of her shield,

Upon her helmet he againe her strooke, That downe she fell upon the grassie field In sencelesse swoune, as if her life forsooke, And pangs of death her spirit overtooke: Whom when he saw before his foote prostrated, He to her lept with deadly dreadfull looke, And her sun-shynie helmet soone unlaced, Thinking at once both head and helmet to have raced.

XII.

But, whenas he discovered had her face,
He saw, his senses straunge astonishment,
A miracle of natures goodly grace

In her faire visage voide of ornament,
But bath'd in bloud and sweat together ment;
Which, in the rudenesse of that evill plight,
Bewrayd the signes of feature excellent:
Like as the moone, in foggie winters night,
Doth seeme to be herselfe, though darkned be her light.

XIII.

At sight thereof his cruell minded hart

Empierced was with pittifull regard,

That his sharpe sword he threw from him apart,
Cursing his hand that had that visage mard:

No hand so cruell, nor no hart so hard,

But ruth of beautie will it mollifie.

By this, upstarting from her swoune she star'd
A while about her with confused eye;

Like one that from his dreame is waked suddenlye.

XIV.

Soone as the Knight she there by her did spy
Standing with emptie hands all weaponlesse,
With fresh assault upon him she did fly,
And

gan renew her former cruelnesse :

And though he still retyr'd, yet nathëlesse With huge redoubled strokes she on him layd; And more increast her outrage mercilesse, The more that he with meeke intreatie prayd Her wrathful hand from greedy vengeance to have stayd.