Then panting softe, and trembling every ioynt,
Her fearfull feete towards the bowre she mov'd,
Where she for secret purpose did appoynt
To lodge the warlike Maide, unwisely loov'd;
And, to her bed approching, first she proov'd
Whether she slept or wakte: with her softe hand She softely felt if any member moov'd,
And lent her wary eare to understand
If any puffe of breath or signe of sence shee fond.
Which whenas none she fond, with easy shifte,
For feare least her unwares she should abrayd,
Th' embroder'd quilt she lightly up did lifte,
And by her side herselfe she softly layd,
Of every finest fingers touch affrayd;
any noise she made, ne worde she spake, But inly sighd. At last the royall Mayd
Out of her quiet slomber did awake,
And chaungd her weary side the better ease to take.
Where feeling one close couched by her side,
She lightly lept out of her filed bedd,
And to her weapon ran, in minde to gride
The loathed leachour: but the Dame, halfe dedd
Through suddeine feare and ghastly drerihedd,
Did shrieke alowd, that through the hous it rong,
And the whole family therewith adredd
Rashly out of their rouzed couches sprong,
And to the troubled chamber all in armes did throng.
And those sixe Knightes, that Ladies champions,
And eke the Redcrosse Knight ran to the stownd,
Halfe armd and halfe unarmd, with them attons:
Where when confusedly they came, they fownd
Their Lady lying on the sencelesse grownd:
On th' other side they saw the warlike Mayd
Al in her snow-white smocke, with locks unbownd,
Threatning the point of her avenging blade;
That with so troublous terror they were all dismayd.
About their Ladye first they flockt arownd;
Whom having laid in comfortable couch,
Shortly they reard out of her frosen swownd;
And afterwardes they gan with fowle reproch
To stirre up strife, and troublous contecke broch:
But, by ensample of the last dayes losse,
None of them rashly durst to her approch,
Ne in so glorious spoile themselves embosse :
Her succourd eke the Champion of the Bloody Crosse.
But one of those sixe knights, Gardantè hight,
Drew out a deadly bow and arrow keene,
Which forth he sent with felonous despight
And fell intent against the Virgin sheene:
The mortall steele stayd not till it was seene
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gore her side; yet was the wound not deepe, But lightly rased her soft silken skin,
That drops of purple blood thereout did weepe, Which did her lilly smock with staines of vermeil steep.
Wherewith enrag'd she fiercely at them flew,
And with her flaming sword about her layd,
That none of them foule mischiefe could eschew,
But with her dreadfull strokes were all dismayd:
Here, there, and every where, about her swayd
Her wrathfull steele, that none mote it abyde;
And eke the Redcrosse Knight gave her good ayd,
Ay ioyning foot to foot, and syde to syde;
That in short space their foes they have quite terrifyde.
Tho, whenas all were put to shamefull flight,
The noble Britomartis her arayd,
And her bright armes about her body dight:
For nothing would she lenger there be stayd,
Where so loose life, and so ungentle trade,
Was usd of Knightes and Ladies seeming gent:
So, earely, ere the grosse earthes gryesy shade
Was all disperst out of the firmament,
They tooke their steeds, and forth upon their iourney
The Redcrosse Knight to Britomart
Describeth Artegall :
The wondrous Myrrhour, by which she
In love with him did fall.
HERE have I cause in men iust blame to find,
That in their proper praise too partiall bee,
And not indifferent to woman kind,
To whom no share in armes and chevalree
They doe impart, ne maken memoree
Of their brave gestes and prowesse martiall:
Scarse do they spare to one, or two, or three,
Rowme in their writtes; yet the same writing small Does all their deedes deface, and dims their glories all.
But by record of antique times I finde
That wemen wont in warres to beare most sway,
And to all great exploites themselves inclin'd,
Of which they still the girlond bore away;
Till envious men, fearing their rules decay,
Gan coyne streight lawes to curb their liberty:
Yet, sith they warlike armes have laide away,
They have exceld in artes and pollicy,
That now we foolish men that prayse gin eke t'envý.
Of warlike puissaunce in ages spent,
Be thou, faire Britomart, whose prayse I wryte;
But of all wisedom bee thou precedent,
O soveraine Queene, whose prayse I would endyte,
Endite I would as dewtie doth excyte;
But ah! my rymes too rude and rugged arre,
When in so high an obiect they doe lyte,
And, striving fit to make, I feare, doe marre: Thyselfe thy prayses tell, and make them knowen farre.
She, traveiling with Guyon, by the way
Of sondry thinges faire purpose gan to find,
T'abridg their iourney long and lingring day:
Mongst which it fell into that Fairies mind
To aske this Briton Maid, what uncouth wind
Brought her into those partes, and what inquest
Made her dissemble her disguised kind :
Faire Lady she him seemd like Lady drest,
But fairest Knight alive when armed was her brest.
Thereat she sighing softly had no powre
To speake awhile, ne ready answere make;
But with hart-thrilling throbs and bitter stowre,
As if she had a fever fitt, did quake,
And every daintie limbe with horrour shake;
And ever and anone the rosy red
Flasht through her face, as it had beene a flake
Of lightning through bright heven fulmined:
At last, the passion past, she thus him answered:
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