Much fayrer then the former was that roome,
And richlier, by many partes, arayd;
For not with arras made in painefull loome,
But with pure gold it all was overlayd,
Wrought with wilde antickes which their follies playd
In the rich metall, as they living were:
A thousand monstrous formes therein were made,
Such as false Love doth oft upon
him weare; For Love in thousand monstrous formes doth oft
And, all about, the glistring walles were hong
With warlike spoiles and with victorious prayes
Of mightie conquerours and captaines strong,
Which were whilóme captíved in their dayes
To cruell Love, and wrought their owne decayes:
Their swerds and speres were broke, and hauberques
rent,
And their proud girlonds of tryumphant bayes
Troden in dust with fury insolent,
To shew the Victors might and merciless intent.
The warlike Mayd, beholding earnestly
The goodly ordinaunce of this rich place,
Did greatly wonder; ne could satisfy
Her greedy eyes with gazing a long space:
But more she mervaild that no footings trace
Nor wight appeard, but wastefull emptiness
And solemne silence over all that place:
Straunge thing it seem'd, that none was to possesse So rich purveyaunce, ne them keepe with carefulnesse.
And, as she lookt about, she did behold
How over that same dore was likewise writ,
Be bolde, Be bolde, and every where, Be bold;
That much she muz'd, yet could not construe it
By any ridling skill or commune wit.
At last she spyde at that rowmes upper end
Another yron dore, on which was writ,
Be not too bold; whereto though she did bend
Her earnest minde, yet wist not what it might intend.
Thus she there wayted untill eventyde,
Yet living creature none she saw appeare.
And now sad shadowes gan the world to hyde
From mortall vew, and wrap in darkenes dreare;
Yet nould she d'off her weary armes, for feare
Of secret daunger, ne let sleepe oppresse
Her heavy eyes with natures burdein deare,
But drew herselfe aside in sickernesse,
And her welpointed wepons did about her dresse.
The Maske of Cupid, and th' enchaun-
ted Chamber are displayd;
Whence Britomart redeemes faire A-
moret through charmes decayd.
THO, whenas chearelesse Night ycovered had
Fayre heaven with an universall clowd,
That every wight dismayd with darkenes sad
In silence and in sleepe themselves did shrowd,
She heard a shrilling trompet sound alowd,
Signe of nigh battaill, or got victory:
Nought therewith daunted was her courage prowd,
But rather stird to cruell enmity,
Expecting ever when some foe she might descry.
With that, an hideous storme of winde arose,
With dreadfull thunder and lightning atwixt,
And an earthquake, as if it streight would lose
The worlds foundations from his centre fixt:
A direfull stench of smoke and sulphure mixt
Ensewd, whose noyaunce fild the fearefull sted
From the fourth howre of night untill the sixt;
Yet the bold Britonesse was nought ydred,
Though much emmov'd, but stedfast still persévered.
All suddeinly a stormy whirlwind blew
Throughout the house, that clapped every dore,
With which that yron wicket open flew,
As it with mighty levers had bene tore;
And forth yssewd, as on the readie flore
Of some theatre, a grave personage
That in his hand a braunch of laurell bore,
With comely haveour and count'nance sage,
Yclad in costly garments fit for tragicke stage.
Proceeding to the midst he stil did stand,
As if in minde he somewhat had to say;
And to the vulgare beckning with his hand,
In signe of silence, as to heare a play,
By lively actions he gan bewray
Some argument of matter passioned;
Which doen, he backe retyred soft away,
And, passing by, his name discovered,
Ease, on his robe in golden letters cyphered.
The noble Mayd still standing all this vewd,
And merveild at his straunge intendiment :
With that a ioyous fellowship issewd
Of minstrales making goodly meriment,
With wanton bardes, and rymers impudent;
All which together song full chearefully
A lay of loves delight with sweet concent:
After whom marcht a iolly company,
In manner of a Maske, enranged orderly.
The whiles a most delitious harmony
In full straunge notes was sweetly heard to sound, That the rare sweetnesse of the melody
The feeble sences wholy did confound,
And the frayle soule in deepe delight nigh drownd: And, when it ceast, shrill trompets lowd did bray, That their report did far away rebound;
And, when they ceast, it gan againe to play, The whiles the Maskers marched forth in trim aray.
The first was Fansy, like a lovely boy
Of rare aspect and beautie without peare,
Matchable either to that ympe of Troy,
Whom love did love and chose his cup to beare;
Or that same daintie lad, which was so deare
To great Alcides, that, whenas he dyde,
He wailed womanlike with many a teare,
And every wood and every valley wyde
He filld with Hylas name; the nymphes eke Hylas cryde.
His garment neither was of silke nor say,
But paynted plumes in goodly order dight,
Like as the sunburnt Indians do aray
Their tawney bodies in their proudest, plight:
As those same plumes, so seemd he vaine and light,
That by his gate might easily appeare ;
For still he far'd as dauncing in delight,
And in his hand a windy fan did beare,
That in the ydle ayre he mov'd still here and theare.
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