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LXIII.

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.

LXIV.

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.

LXV.

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
Το

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.

LXVI.

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.

LXVII.

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

went.

CANTO II.

The Redcrosse Knight to Britomart
Describeth Artegall :

The wondrous Myrrhour, by which she
In love with him did fall.

I.

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.

II.

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.

III.

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.

IV.

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.

V.

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:

VI.

"Faire Sir, I let you weete, that from the howre I taken was from nourses tender pap,

I have been trained up in warlike stowre, To tossen speare and shield, and to affrap The warlike ryder to his most mishap; Sithence I loathed have my life to lead, As Ladies wont, in Pleasures wanton lap, To finger the fine needle and nyce thread; Me lever were with point of foemans speare be dead.

VII.

"All my delight on deedes of armes is sett,
To hunt out perilles and adventures hard,
By sea, by land, whereso they may be mett,
Onely for honour and for high regard,
Without respect of richesse or reward:
For such intent into these partes I came,
Withouten compasse or withouten card,
Far fro my native soyle, that is by name
The Greater Brytayne, here to seeke for praise and fame.

VIII.

"Fame blazed hath, that here in Faery Lond
Doe many famous Knightes and Ladies wonne,
And many straunge adventures to bee fond,
Of which great worth and worship may be wonne :
Which to prove, I this voyage have begonne.
But mote I weet of you, right courteous Knight,
Tydings of one that hath unto me donne
Late foule dishonour and reprochfull spight,

The which I seek to wreake, and Arthegall he hight."

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