THE Eighth Book of the Mirror of Knighthood.  
Being the third of the third Part.  
Englished out of the Spanish tongue.  
— Pictoribus atque poetis  
Quidlicet audendi semper fuit aequa potestas.  VIRESSIT WLNERE VERITAS 
LONDON Printed by Thomas Creed, for Cuthbert Burbey, and are to be sold at his shop near the Royal Exchange. 1599   

TO THE RIGHT NOBLE, MAGNIFICENT, and ever honoured, Sir Edward wootton Knight.  
THe grateful remembrance (right Noble Sir,) of your many favours extended towards my deceased uncle, & nothing extenuated towards my living Aunt, craving a supreme command over my obliged thoughts, enforceth (where satisfaction cannot equally balance those deserts) an acknowledgement of an everlasting thankful mind. If therefore the hopes of an untried servant, may by future merits deserve any liking, or the merits of your own Heroic worths (whose sole shadow enables my weakness) may add courage to a discouraged spirit, thus to pass the limits of welbecomming duty: Oh then pardon the presumption, that dares choose this means to express his true zeal unto your service. For though the matter nor the method, befits neither your wisdom, nor authority, yet let the innocency of my unstained soul, be made happy by your acceptance of these few sheets of blotted paper. And if my audacity (which I confess) have offended, impute it to proceed by motive from the praises of your immortal virtues, whose excellencies the shrill voice of fame having borrowed the mouths of those, that they, with adamantive power have attracted to your affection, hath amply propagated through the world's wide continent. Or if the matter be impleasing, be that fault attributed mine, in selecting so fabulous a subject, to be protected by so great a Patron. But yet (Magnanimous sir) suffer the pleasing invention for the original language sake, excusing that error, drown the memory of the offence, in the black centre of oblivion. But for the rude style, & harsh unpolished phrase, oh there is no comfort can expel that disconsolated fear, unless the ever memorable nobleness of your grace (thinking me to be what I am not) shall (lightning my darkness) make me seem gracious in your all-gracing sight, omitting, and remitting what ever deserveth blame, & by smiling on so small a talon, not utterly condemn my immaculate sincerity, to your never-dying worthiness. Whose perpetuity, together with all your most happy desires, may the omnipotent powers of that almighty majesty, whose breath commands both heaven, earth and seas, effectuate with eternal felicity.  
Evermore devoted to your Worship's service, L. A.   

TO THE COVRTEous Reader.  
BY confessing my own many faults, judge me (kind Gentlemen) worthy less blame. But believe me, by reposing too much confidence on the Press, hath not only aggravated, but most grossly added to my errors, making me halt down right before your presence, like an abortive child, thrust into the world before his time. Where you dislike, utterly despise not, but think I would be what I am not, and so for your sakes, wish I were twenty times far better.  
Nevertheless, let not my offences stain the deserved praises which the sweet Poetical inventions of a special, and my most dear friend, hath intermixed with my rude prose, doth merit. For his sake my hopes are the stronger, which entreat your gentle censures on my wellmeaning intent, amending, where there is no cause of commending, so shall I still remain debtor for your courtesies, until with larger satisfaction, I may in part manifest my due thankfulness.  
L. A.   

THE THIRD BOOK OF THE THIRD PART OF THE Mirror of Knighthood: Containing the high and mighty deeds of the sons and Nephews of the Emperor Trebatio, with the valiant acts of other Princes and Knights. Together with the excellent deeds of warlike Ladies, with the end and dissolution of the three most famous enchantments of Lyriana, Roselia of Rome, and the Celebrated beauteous Linda, Brides, Princess of the Scythians.  

CHAP. I. Who Brauorant was, and why he left the Serpentarian Isle, to pass into Grecia.  
WHen the dreadful report of cruel Arms and War (mentioned in the third Book of the first part of this History) was noised through all the Pagan Nations, assembling, and in one uniting their several puissant Hosts, under the conduct and command of Alicandro, mighty Emperor of the Sythians, marching under his Ensigns against the Grecians, with intent of mortal revenge, utterly to subvert that Monarchy, leveling Constantinople the seat of their Empire with the earth, with perpetual desolation.  
Thither then to these ever memorable Wars, accompanied this Scythian Monarch, one that for strength, valour and high deeds, held over all Pagan Knights and mighty Giants, chief sovereignty, in all military actions, as being of the fearcest, sole supreme Lord, called the Gran Bradamante Campeon: who procuring to eternize the memory of his lineage, desired to have a son so absolute in all accomplishments, that joyfully he might pass this life, with assurance that none but he should imperate all those Orient Isles, in whose Conquest he had shed so much human blood.  
To effect which desire, he begot the most mighty Bramarant, of himself the only homicide: as Lirgandeo in the first Book of the second part hath recorded.  
With like intent as the Father, departed the son, for ere he left his Country, he procured it, being in love with a Gyantesse, whose fame for valour, did penetrate the vaulty skies. With this went he wondrous gladly to spill so much Grecian blood, where both Father and Son found their Sepulchres in the Greek fields.  
Now then doth Galtener record, that composed these two Parts, how the Gyantesse conceived by the Famous Bramarante, and at the expiration of her time of travel, was delivered of a child, for strength most admirable, if not unmatchable expectation. For nourishing and bringing him up as the proud father was, not with human milk, but of Ounces, Tigers, and Lionesses, whereof that Island yields infinite. At twelve years of age, he was as big and great as any Knight of highest stature. No wild beast could outrun him, how swift soever he were: For so admirable was the lightness of the sturdy youth, that he would overtake them in their course, and with his hands disjoint them, piece by piece, on whose flesh he fed. Being of fourteen years, he caused an Armour to be made of scales of Fish, bred in the Arthlanticke Sea, whose strength equalled the finest Diamond: they were somewhat dark of colour, but he garnished them with Pearls and other rich stones, so excellently, that they seemed naturally to have grown there. He was not of body disproportioned as other Giants, but composed of such orderly well knit members, that only in strength he was accounted Gyantive.  
The news of his father and Grandsire's death, he received ere he received the order of knighthood, which he himself of himself did take, saying: None merited the honour to give him that dignity, and so became both agent and patiented to advance his pride unto the end of his desire, which was so great, that it amazed the world, having far greater forces than his father Bramarante.  
So when he saw himself with arms, and knew the Greeks' had slain his Grandfather, he solemnly protested on the hilts of his sword, to hold perpetual enmity with them. Although presently arrived other sorrowful news of his father's death, and how the Greek Princes with their own hands entombed him, vowing to defend his armour against any that would presume to take them.  
This somewhat pacified his rage, yet not to esteem them his friends. It grieved his very soul to hear that the king of Mauritania had dared to take away the armour of his dear father: that he would stay no longer, thinking he wronged his honour in the deferring of his just revenge.  
This (above all the valiantest) he had, that he was courteous and gentle, and without sufficient cause would never undertake, nor of any ever demand the combat. Arriving in Grecia he became more milder, not by meeting any that overmatched or equalled him in fight, but with the sole sight of the Greekish Lady's gallantness.  
He was prone to love, and in pursuit thereof performed no mean adventures. Finally between him and the furious Bembo, was all the strength of Paganism divided. He took his leave of his subjects, (for then he, none was evermore beloved of any) with whom he left commandment, that strait upon report of war against Greece, they should with the greatest power they could assemble, seek him there, who only with the son of the Governor of his kingdom, called Artanio, left the confines of Scythia, where he reigned, purposing to employ himself in nothing till he met the Mauritanian Brufaldoro, and to take from him the arms of his so dear and valiant father, calling himself unfortunafe, in that he had not known him. His ship being rigged, and of all munition and tackling well provided, within one month he entered the vast Greek Ocean, which not a little gladded him to be in his enemy's country.  
On the fourth day of his Navigation (having thitherto met with no adventure worthy a History) he descried making towards him a ship, whereat he rejoiced exceedingly, hoping to know news of his demand. The ships in their meeting came so near, that Brauorant might well discern upon the hatches of this stranger's ship, two knights of gallant disposition, clad in rich and strong Armour, with whose sight he rested highly contented, for in all his life he had not seen better accomplished Gentlemen. They wore their Helmets off to take the freshness of the air, and seeing he joined his to their ship, they put them on. And he approaching said.  
Sir Knights, I shallbe highly favoured to know near what land we are, and how far we be from the nighest? Elevated in contemplation were the two, seeing so stout a youth, for having his vyzor raised, they saw his beard did not as then spring forth. The one replied, you now do navigate sir knight in the Greekish sea, and are not above three days sailing from Constantinople, for so many is it since we thence departed. In courtesy then tell me (required the sturdy youth) whether he that slew the Gran Campeon Bradaman, be now in that City, for it greatly concerns me to meet with him? And I cannot believe, nor is it possible, that only one to one he should overcome him, whom all the Oriental Regions feared. The other answered, That Prince is in Greece (Knight) and if you prove yourself with him, you shall find that was nothing he then did, so great is his valiantness and unmatched strength, whereto the heavens joined all their influences to make it incomparable.  
To hear the Greek so praised, did exceedingly vex the youth. So the Pagan replied saying. Surely if all in Greece be as valiant in fight, as they are singular in their Prince's praises, they cannot be less esteemed then for the wonders of Chivalry, and in the world solely excellent for deeds in arms.  
So are they indeed (replied the knight) and he that dares gain say it, I here defy him to mortal battle. Defy me (answered he) Oh heavens! is this tolerable I hear? that before I see the country of my enemies, there should be any to dare me and challenge me? therefore no longer would the enraged Pagan stay, but commanding his bark to be grappled close with his adversaries, he drew forth his furious blade.  
Against Mars would not the other refuse the combat, but in this gets he little: for being with trial assured of the Pagans strength, he strait imagined what small honour he should get in that attempt. For the raging Scythian raising his Merculean arm, & as that was the first blow, so would he make it notable, which indeed was such a one, that lighting on the top of his helm, he slised away the one half, with part of the neck-péece, and descended on his shoulder with such weight, that he thought a Tower had fallen thereon: which made him fall unto the ground upon his hands, losing a piece of his vanbrace. Another seconded the new Mars, lessening the former with the fury of the latter, lighting on him as he rose in the middle of his strong shield, which as if it had been made of a thin plate, was clean cut from the one to the other end, and the blow fiercely falling on his sight, astonished, felled him all along upon the bark, voiding much blood through his nose and mouth.  
An Eagle in lightness was the Pagan, so would he follow leaping after him: but the supreme guider of the Orbs did otherwise appoint it, moving his companion to secure him with incredible celereity, making the Scythians of none effect, by giving him a venturous thrust on the sturdy breast, making him recoil backwards: for had he leapt into their ship, both had left their lives in the hands of the angry Pagan, who like a furious Basseliske offered again the dangerous leap, but to prohibit him, stood the amorous Florisarte, for it was he and his father, with the disguised Princesses that were there, who departing from Greece, were brought to that pass, that they accounted themselves surely vanquished, so fierce seemed the Scythian. By this was the father risen, rejoicing at the good aid his son had given him. Again rejoined the two barks, and their being both together, increased their hopes of victory.  
The haughty youth refused them not, but rather joyed thereat, judging them Knights of estimation, and since so valiant tokens they showed thereof, he thought that vanquishing them, some honour he might achieve by the conquest. He was enraged against the some for disturbing him from winning the entrance of their ship: and so suffering a mighty blow, that had he not been Brauorant that received it, no other could have the heart to endure the second.  
At his pleasure did he reach the beloved Florisarte on the one side of his shield. far did not the sword enter, for the Scythian stayed his arm, but all that it reached, which was the shield it snatched from his hands, making him turn twice or thrice about, like with staggering to fall: he stepped nigher to the edge, to discharge another, which happened as he would: for taking him about the shoulders, the blade bounded upwards, else it had struck away his head: but so puissant was the furious stroke, that it disarmed all that side, and fell with such huge heavy strength, that it struck him down in the middle of the bark.  
Like a swelling serpent became the father, seeing his son so handled, that with the utmost of his strength he discharged his rage upon the Gygantine youth, who not respecting it, would not ward it (but to be given by the hands of the valiant Tharcian) it was too much proud confidence to respect it: which made him see more stars than the lofty Firmament contained. He staggered too unseemly steps backwards, almost falling, but recovering himself, he foamed through the Vyzor like a hunted Boor: blaspheming irreligiously against his goddess.  
By this time came the son, and knowing that one only knight handled them in that manner, with both his hands he laid upon his Helm, which sounded like a bell. In all his life he had not received the like: for it made him bend his head with no little pain: and with more speed than he would, even to his breast. Scarcely had the son executed his, when the father discharged an other in the same place. They forced him to set his hands on the ground: It was to their will, for returning more furious than a hunted Lion in his greatest rage, as he rose, with a counterbuff he tumbled the father on the midst of his back, so sore bruised with the blow, that almost he could not after stand on his feet. The son maintained the fight, procuring rather to defend himself from the Pagans fierce blows, then to offend.  
But what availeth it? for the father being arrived in his help, their adversary never fully reached them any blow, but he launched forth their blood, wherewith they both were withal covered, and although they had somewhat wearied and more enraged him, yet was his Armour neither cut nor razed, and had the battle been made on land, it had ere this been ended, either with death or vanquishment of both. For the haughty youth was borne to fight, finding ease therein: and so had he in the end of three hour, so tired and wounded them, that longer they could scarce hold out: Yet for all this, did not the Knights lose any part of their courage, which was such, that they forced the son of Bramarant to increase in forces, bellowing like a baited Bull: and yet highly esteeming them, in respect of their shown valour.  
Long had he desired to win their ship, and so now to acccomplish the same: with a thrust, he drove the Argentarian Prince to the farthest side of it, and after him would he have leapt, if that a sudden whirlwind that happened, had not parted far asunder both ships, following after it, so great a misty thick fog, with so much thundering and lightning, that the proudest heart was daunted with fear.  
Which being passed, they saw themselves so sundered, that strait either lost the sight of the other, and in the Prince's Ship, immeasurable was their grief for the two Pages loss, that in that tempest were conveyed away: insomuch, that the amorous Florisart was like to run mad with sorrow: and it was not much, for none (living) was ever better entertained.  
Hear their friend Nabato would not leave them with such pain, so he appeared to them in their Bark, saying.  
Valiant Princes, there is no cause why you should grieve at the heavens decree, and what is directed according to their will: and think it not little that you have sustained yourselves so long against that Pagan: for there be few on the earth so valiant as he: and let this be no strangeness to aggravate your minds, for it will always redound to to the honour of Greece. Touching the Pages, it was time they should return to whom sent them: and therefore sorrow not, for they are in place where they shall be entreated as their persons do deserve.  
And you gallant Florisart, that have most reason of grief, take courage: for only it must most advance your immortal honour. And one day when least you think of your glory, you shall be challenged to observe and perform your promise given to Artimio, accounting (through the great content you then shall receive) all the troubles and tormenting passions you shall henceforth thitherto endure (which will not be few) to be but the passage of so many pleasures: but against many others that may befall you, your valour and fortitude is very sufficient.  
So soon as you be arrived at Argentaria (for so it behoveth the ease and quietness of Rosabell) with the greatest Fleet of ships and galleys (detracting no time) that you may make ready, take your course towards the Chapel of Saint George. For in despite of our mortal and great enemy Lupercio, I'll place a signal on lyriana's enchantment, that thereby you may repair thither, seeing it a very far off: and let there be no negligent forgetfulness herein, for it toucheth no less than the Lady's liberty, to be done by Greeks and their friends, by the happy coming of the unknown Lyon.  
And hereupon he took his leave, ending his speech, and departed from them. Who no sooner landed in their dominions, and being received with the love that Flora did bear them, they gave order for all what the wiseman had told them, gathering together of both kingdoms three hundred royal galleys, well provided with most warlike men, and all manner of other necessary munition. What they did, shall be related.  
For three miles from Rome appeared a most strange enchantment, making at the fixing so mighty a noise, that all the Valleys thereabout did resound, and that famous City trembled with the sound. The Emperor was amazed, not knowing the cause of that sudden earthquake: But after a while there came a Knight that told him, how in the Forest there was to be seen a great and wondrous Castle of marvelous and seldom seen work: and that having read certain letters written on a Pillar, he perceived it to be the enchantment of the Princess Roselia. Great contentment received her father and mother, to know news of their dear daughter, having thitherto supposed her dead: hoping now assuredly to see her, since she was brought to such a place. Nabato did comfort them, saying: The time would come, they should see her, receiving more joy than at that instant they had.  
So he departed from them, procuring the disinchaunting of Lyriana, (and see if thereby the great wars might be appeased, which he imagined would about her happen) to espouse her to Rosabel, and as he thought, he presently put it in execution, setting in despite of Lupercio, (having greater skill than he) on the top of the marvelous Tower, a burning Cloud, flaming so mightily, that it seemed continually to cast upwards flames of inextinguable fire. It was seen far off, and therefore there were few upon the seas but repaired thither, although without it, there had not failed to come the famous Bembo, with the soldan of Egypt, which was a brother to him slain, yet far more stronger. Neither at his due time wanted the great Lord of Nyquea himself, with a mighty Fleet. For Lupercio found that Greek Prince should end the adventure, and maugre all the world, bear away Lyriana: and to forbid that no other Knight might approach to prove the adventure, he stirred up and moved the valiantest Knights in the whole universe against the Greeks, as hereafter shall at large be expressed. And yet by the sign, the great Magician Nabato set, all the flower of Grecia united, was there assembled. The mighty Brauorant could not but see it, for parting from the two famous Princes, his Galley so navigated the Mediterranean Ocean, that he saw the fearful flames that issued from the Sea. Desirous to see such strange adventures, was the stout and fierce Pagan, and to prove himself therein, joying to have left his Country, to participate of his begun sights, imagining that his strong and valiant arm was sufficient to terminate such a deed, he commanded thither to be directed, where quickly he arrived, amazed to see the Tower and the marvelous workmanship thereof, unable to conceive who could frame so admirable a thing. He read the superscriptions, & not regarding what Arms were required for that attempt, he fling (as Bembo had done) at one of the Pillars whereon the Tower was built: but at that instant, there arose so much fire, that all his fury & strength nothing availing him, with want enough thereof he gave over, where his Armour stood him in no small steed, for being made of those bones that are most cold, they were able to defend some part of the heat of that fire, and blaspheming on his Gods, he stood looking if he could find any other entrance: and seeing none, he thought it best to departed, vowing to return thither, and defend that none other should try it, since he had not ended it, it cost many lives: and to perform it, he commanded his Pilot to make towards Mauritania, for he desired to be there, to demand his father's Arms of Brufaldoro, or lose his life in their pursuit. The weather was fair, calm, and prosperous, favouring his voyage, for in eight days he landed there: he was glad thereof, and so took forth a mighty roan Courser, the best that all his Country did afford, of such force, as it easily might bear the sturdy youth. On another mounted his Squire Artanio, and taking the largest path, he began to place forth in haste, to learn of some one, if the king of that land were there to seek him. Strait was he assured there of, rejoicing greatly thereat, being persuaded none could disturb him from winning the Armour that once belonged to his dear father. But to rest himself, he entered through a fair Forest, passing that day there, till it was time to sleep, which was but little, by reason of that which befell him.   

CHAP. II. What happened unto the mighty Brauorant, with a strange knight, and who he was.  
SCarce was the middle hour of that same season past, when rest in silent quietness surpriseth the waking eyes of every one, to make them cease their laborious daily toil, suffering the wandering passengers of gloomy darkness, with night tripping Fairies to progress through those walks, that the absence of their exiled light doth limit them, in black obscurity: when a sudden new alteration enforced the haughty Pagan from his accustomed uncontrowled sleep. For the heard not far from him, the complaints of some one, whose necessity urged him to lament. He was as is said, in nature contrary to all others of his kind, and like his Father only in strength. For he pitied those distressed, offering his person in their required aid: he rose, and closing his Beaver, went to the place from whence he heard the plaints, and by the pale shine of Cynthia's watery beams, he saw sitting at the foot of a knotty Oak, a well proportioned knight, appareled in most rich Armour, complaining of love. The Pagan knew not what it meant, and therefore to see his effects, he got behind another Tree very near unto the knight: who had not all that night slept, bewailing his chance, neither would he do it, but to participate his grief to those that felt it not. So not regarding, because not seeing the Pagan, he began with a thousand sighs, witnesses of his soul's sorrow, to utter the grieved burden it sustained: and with such grace, that Brauorant rested amazed, iuding him some celestial creature, respecting the sweet harmony of his voices, he did with all attention listen, and overheard the Lover in this manner sing against Fortune, these verses following.  
FOrtune is blind, she looks on no man's need,  
And deaf, she hearkens unto no man's call:  
And cruel, she respects not who doth bleed,  
And envious, she rejoiceth at one's fall.  
No Beauty can unmask her hood-wincked eyes,  
No Force can drive attention to her ears:  
No Grief make her dead-sleeping pity rise,  
Nor is her Envy thawed with virtues tears.  
She at adventures lets her Favours fly,  
Without proportion, without due regards:  
The base unworthy, now she mounts on high,  
And fatteth dunghills with her best rewards.  
Anon they tumble to their first estate,  
And other on the tottering wheel are set:  
Who never find repentance, till too late,  
And then they find it in sad sorrows net.  
Such fortune is, and oh what hap have I  
To serve a Goddess lighter than the wind:  
Constant in nothing, but inconstancy,  
As also envious, cruel, deaf and blind.  
Fortune is blind, Oh what can me betide?  
But blind mishap, that serve so blind a guide.  
With a breathless heart breaking (hay me) ended the Lover, principiating her oppressed souls discharge thus. What availed it, Oh what availed it me (heroic warrior) so to my honours cost, & reputations' wrack, to reveal unto thee the tenure of my loves secrets, whose tribute is only due to thy incomparable merits? It was more than became me, violating those immaculate rites of ours, which are first to be entreated, and then upon sufficient proof, to like. I know not on whom to complain? not of myself, for never was any better employed, nor yet their thoughts higher sublimated? No, I complain of my hard fortune, for that the sacrifice of my will offered in his hands, could be no means to confirm in part, the hope he gave me on the sands of the Greek sea coast, to be solely mine. For if I so now understood it, who would be so weak, and so mistrustful a Lover, as with so many sorrows to seek the thing loved, and with a number of infinite sighs, that unsought for, would meet me, since I would not refuse what he admitted, nor could my Love fancy but what he desired, loving? But O grief, I cannot believe, but that misfortune and myself, were both borne Twins at one self same birth. O haughty Tynacrian, think not but it is a blot to thy immortal fame, to show thyself cruel & unkind, 'gainst him whom hath yielded soul & thoughts to thee. It is a tyranny altogether unbeseeming whom thou art, and what thou didst protest at our departure. The stern fierce Pagan would not interrupt him, but astonished to hear what he said, harkened, unable to resolve whether man or woman he was. All the night passed they away, one in his laments, and the other in his new doubts, until the appearing of Aurora's shine began to give warning of the morning suns uprise. And then leaving his stand, went towards the Knight, that seeing it was day, had laced on his helm, fearing to be known.  
The knightly Giant seeing him, with exceeding courtesy, that most adorned him, he began to speak. You have enforced me (sir Knight) to pass this night so disquieted, by hearing you publish your grief, that in recompense thereof, I entreat you I may know the cause, and if the hazarding of my person to work your content, may be a service accepted, I shall rest happy to be so employed.  
The Lady well noted him, thinking she had never seen a braver nor better armed knight, and his civil demeanour, bound her to a mild answer, but she was in such an amorous rage, that not considering the end, replied. Why then, worse will the day be to me, than was the night to you, knowing that you have heard what the very soul dares not trust itself withal, and I know not what law of arms admits it. Your favour I refuse, for having committed such an offence, as to require the knowledge of a strangers dear hearts secret, against his will that loves, which if I declare, how should I think it could be concealed by you? So may you return, for the grief that me torments, is pleasant only in concealment.  
I had not thought (replied the Pagan) that through entreating thee, with what amongst good knights is used, should have put thee in that arrogant confidence, as to need none others aid, being a thing so contrary to reason. If thou knewest the law of Love (replied the Knight) thou should know there is no happiness therein, but to love with secrecy, for that is it that assureth any doubtful hope. But to recount my cares to one that cannot redress them, with more than a doleful (I am sorry) we sigh more in having a strangers company, then for discreet circumspectness.  
It cannot be expressed what rage the Pagan conceived, for being insolently bold, he was only noted of immoderate rashness, and so answered. Then, that thou mayest know that to have told it me was thy advantage, I engage thee to the battle, that by taking away thy puling life, the pains whereof thou dost complain, may also end. Mars was not more fierce than the Lover, being angered, and so without longer stay, drew forth one of the world's best blades. Mighty he was: but he met with that strength whereto Mylos forces never reached, through conceived rage he was quicker in executing his blow, discharging it on the shield, of which to the ground he threw a piece, beating the rest so heavily on his head, that it almost astonished him. He stepped in with his right foot, and with a steady strong thrust he forced him with staggering paces backwards: he would not yet leave the chase for turning his sword underhand, let it fly at his right thigh, making his adversaries flesh feel the cutting of his sharp blade.  
Never was Serpent in the desert Libya more rigorous than the Pagan now did return upon the knight, and where he thought his blow would be of more effect, thither he struck: the other raised his shield, but it was of no defence, for although he did not cut it, through the finesse of the temper, yet it so charged him, that he set his hands on the ground, and ere he rose, he felt another, which made him think he saw the starry firmament.  
The blood congealed in his mouth, and fréezed in his body, seeing the fierceness of the Pagan, which he thought far to exceed the Greek Princes. He rose up, for he was courageous, minding to use his nimbleness, but as therein the Scythian exceeded the swiftness of any heart, it availd him not from receiving most cruel blows, kissing the earth sometimes with his knees, and sometimes with his hands. Never felt he himself so persecuted, nor at the point to lose the fame he had obtained for valour, and therefore did he redouble his blows so strong and thick, that the Pagan was forced to devise new defensive wards. Exceedingly he rejoiced to see what brave knights he met in his journey towards the parts of Grecia, deeming him of that country, where the Authors of his life were entombed.  
This remembrance so vexed him, that he supposed it cowardice to continue in single combat so long: so letting a blow fly aloft, he discharged the second with such mighty strength on his adversaries helm, that it rezounded like a bell: and not able to penetrate it, so heavily it weighed on one side, that breaking all the laces, buckles, and rivets, it struck it from his head, making the knight uphold himself with his hands: but at his rising Apollo's beauty seemed not so fair that day, as Floraliza's great alicandro's niece, that wandering through strange lands in search of her Poliphebo, had arrived there. In all his life did not the Pagan receive such a blow (as with her sight) for in all the same, he forgot not the memory of that day: he stayed his sword, and stepping forth, unlaced his helm, setting to view his sturdy visage, more fair than swarthy, yet with many wrinkled checks, and one great mole on his front, approved tokens of his excessive strength, his shield he cast away, and taking his sword by the point, (through the new tuch of love) he spoke with more civility than the most amorous.  
Admired Goddess, I beseech you pardon my mad presumption, although I feel already the punishment thereof, for the not knowing you, forced me to it, yet I repute it well, if it redownde not to your farther displeasure, which will be to me a more unhappier death, in that I have seen the excellency of beauty and valour: and so entreat you, as deserver of far more honour, you will accept my sword in sign of victory, and I'll defend that all the world doth owe it you. It greatly delighted the Lady to see the knight's courtesy, and imagining he was of esteem, replied. I will not (sir knight) have you in all things take the better of the fight, for the victory is yours, leaving not thereby indebted to your content. Her hands to kiss then required the new Mars, thinking no greater good might be expected then the present. She drew them from him, demanding who he was? So yoked was the Pagan, that he could not deny it, nor through contemplation say any thing, yet thus he spoke.  
There was no reason (divine Goddess) to entreat, what by commanding makes me happy in obedience. I am called Brauorant, son to that famous Bramarant, which in Greece was deaths man to himself, and Nephew to that Campeon, which lost his life by the hands of a Greek Prince (although I cannot believe it) and therefore have I left my country, of purpose to be revenged on the Greeks and the Mauritanian king, whose land we now tread, because he took away my father's armour: and also I come to know the Prince Meridian, whose vassal I am, and greatest friend in respect of the love that he and the mighty Midinaro his Grandfather did bear unto my kindred. And this is all I can say, praying the like, not in regard of my relation, but that I may know my Sovereign. Bound thereto was the Lady, replying thus.  
I greatly desire to know my stock, and whom I am, that I might therein satisfy your content (brave Brauorant:) and I assure you, that the most I know, is, that I know not whom I am, more than that a brother of mine and myself, were brought up together in a wood, without other conversation then of a wise man, that did instruct us in all virtues, whom we reputed our father, till he assured us the contrary, and through the accidents befallen, some have told us we are the children of that so loved Prince Meridian. More I know not.  
I believe no less, but that those which are the earth's chief lights (answered the amorous Scythian) derive their divine descent from the heavens, whence your sacred Grandfather proceeds. As they were in this conversation, they saw him coming whom they sought, mounted on a mighty Courser, he wore not then the armour of that Mars and mighty Bramarant, keeping them only to wear in Grecia, the more to despite her Princes.  
The Lady knew him, and told it the fierce Pagan, that cried out for joy, saying. This adventure (excellent Lady) admits comparison solely with that of your knowledge. Now am I certain of all good fortune, since the heavens have set before mine eyes with so small toil the thing I most desired.  
He arose with angry paces, and called for his fierce horse. The like did the Lady, lightly vaulting into the saddle. The Scythian was nothing envious thereat, for in lightness the Oriental nations afforded not his peer, and brandishing his lance, made against the Mauritanian: but what happeneth describeth the next Chapter.   

CHAP. III. What befell unto the mighty Bramorant, with the warlike Brufaldoro, the most cruel battle between them, and how they were parted by Floraliza.  
SOme content may the angry aspect of the two warrtours move, that representing Mars, either to the other approached. The Mauritanian with his accustomed pride spoke first saying. What unexpected motion of sudden alteration (knights) hath my coming stirred in ye? If you stand in any need speak, for in the uttering consists the remiede.  
Of nothing have we need (replied Campeons fierce Nephew, for if any had wronged us, we have hands not to remit our remedy to others. That which hath moved this knight and myself with hasty paces to meet you, is only to know what cause the Mauritanian king had, to take away the arms of that glorious Bramarant, knowing how thereby he angered the Greek Princes, yet no matter for this (I seek not their contents) but thou shouldst imagine, that a senne, of his living, greater was the wrong to take them, since they were his right, guiding thyself thereto more by insolency, than the duty of a knight.  
Never did the barbarous Sarazin nation know a more prouder Pagan than the king of Mauritania, and supposing him like to others he had tried, with a fearful voice he replied. What, coward knight, thinkest thou that meeting with those arms, I would through fear leave them, although I did incense the heavens, and anger every one the earth contained? Oh, I wish I had them here to wear them in triumph of my valour's victory, making the powers of heaven know to thy cost, no terrene merits better deserves to wear them then Brufaldoro. Mild in the beginning was the Scythian, but being moved to rage, no Basseliske is like to him, so roaring like a bull, and turning his horse, casting his eyes up to the sky, said. Is it possible that I living sole son to Bramarant should suffer this? and that any other but he should threaten me, permitting, sithence thou haste his armour, and detains them, not to procure them, or lose my life in the enterprise? So great was their rage, that the one could neither prosecute his speech, nor the other make reply, leaving to their hands what their tongues could not utter.  
Now would I here (but I know not how I may) again implore your sacred helps (admired Ladies of unspotted purities) but the importunate tongue evermore tuned with this one vocal note, dashed my thoughts in their expected hopes. I dare, oh I dare not presume, lest I should waken your slumbering displeasures, (they are worse than then thousand wo-languishing deaths) to pray the comfort of a smile, the soul's nourishment and hearts encourager, to tread the difficulty of Dedalus inextricable labyrinth, or as Hercules to undergo so many labours. But being repulsed in self conceit, shall I fly to those chaste divine Nymphs of that everflowing fountain of tongue inspiring music, that some one (not busied in the lays of love) would enchant my rustic pen with a delicious method, according to the two mighty warriors deserts?  
They did refuse my plaints, referring my Orisons to your desiding doom, submitting their wills to your greater commanding powers, whose favours in my behalf they promised to solicit. With trembling fear do I once again await your censures: Oh, in regard of their immaculate triple trinity grant it, be it but under the covert of a feigned smile: whose obtained imagination swifter than the wind, brought the stern combatants to encounter with more noise, than Vulcan's thunderbolts do rend the cloudy air amidst their furious passage, or fiercer than the tempestuous waves raised by the unbridled rage of a sea-oreturning whirlwind, beat on the flinty rocks: yet was it nothing in respect of the horror that these two rare in arms committed with their lances. Of knotty Oak were they, but arriving at the breast, broke as they were of weak cane or small reeds: either past by the other without motion, although the Moor at his turning about, through the astonishment of the shock lost his right stirrup. Aloft with their swords raised together, they discharged them on their helms with more force, then doth a watery current descending from a stéepie hill break through a rivers lock.  
Venturous was the Mauritanians blow, for it lighted on the top of his plumed crest, striking away all the steeled circuit, with part of the maled gorget, & on his shoulder prayed the furious sword, falling so heavily, that he bowed below his horse neck. On the shield did the fierce youth strike the Mauritanian, it is no defence against the rigorous arm, for the half it took away, making him shake like an Aspen leaf. They were both most skilful, so turned they to second others, and the Affricanian let fly a point, which the youth surely felt, who reached him ere he could fetch home his arm, with a cross counterbuff on the side of his helm, that all that part he left disarmed, overturning him more than he willingly would on his left stirrup: it was no occasion to be lost, so assalting with his sword inwards before he could ward it, did give another no less dangerous on his sight, so mighty, that the blood gushed from his nose.  
Never was trodden Serpent more rigorous than now the African returned, that seeing himself so handled, crushing one tooth with another, with his blade mounted on high, executed on his helm such a blow, that it almost struck him senseless. He well perceived his alteration, so took he the advantage entering with a cruel thrust, had not his arms been as they were, there had the battle ended: but they were so strong, that the sword could not enter them, so sliding thence, it lighted twixt the buckles of his breast, cutting down his strong male, and he was happy to shrink his body to himself, else he had been mortally wounded. He passed his carrier so swiftly, that the Scythian could not strike him when he would. With such nimbleness returned the haughty African, that his courage amazed the invincible youth. But now was he at the utmost of his rage, and willing to make it known, casting his shield at his back, let drive at him a most mighty blow. Ward it with his sword and the remnant of his shield would the African: it was of no defence, for from one to the other end it was clean divided in two, and meeting with his sword, both made so cruel a stroke on his helm, that though it contained two fingers in thickness, he gave him a perilous wound on his left side.  
The Mauritanian would not defer his payment, for closing his sword firmly, and seeing him without shield, discharged the puissance of his arms on his sure helm, it was it saved his life, and his head from cleaving: nevertheless it was so heavy, that it struck him along upon his coursers back, redoubling another upon his broad breast, that it almost stopped the passage of his breath. Admirable was the sight of the more than cruel fight: for Apollo having made his course unto the midst of the vaulty heavens, there stayed to gaze upon their war, glad to see the warriors, that without sign of advantage, had four hours maintained their fierce combat. Yet something better sped the Scythian, by reason of his inpenitrable arms that kept his body from cutting. Which was not so with the Mauritanian, for in some places was he sore hurt, but yet was no cause to make him show any faintness, & it rather increased his courage to see his blood inamell the earth. Amazed stood the gallant Lady to view the Pagans battle, judging the world's whole strength was twixt these two reparted. Greatly she desired to give order in parting them, imagining that with the death of any Greece, she lost one of the valiantest and greatest enemies she had. This touched her very soul: yet would she not seem to disgrace the mighty Brauorant: so she again regazed on the fight, thinking in the end he would get the better, seeming most Master thereof. He gave the other a blow ere she could terminate her presumption, upon his helm, that in a trance he struck him on his horse crupper. A while was he carried so about the field, yet not so long, that he might second another ere he recovered himself.  
Who like a Hercanian Tiger, with his sword twixt both hands, executed his rage upon his shield: so mightily did it join with his head, that it astonished him, and with another almost overthrew him. The raging mountain Lioness wanting her whelps, is like a mild lamb, compared with the puissant matchless Scythian, that renouncing his Gods with execrable blasphemies, spurred against the Moor, and so eager was he in his carrier, that he closed so near he could not execute his blow, more than cast his arms about him with such power, that he snatched him from his saddle, whose weight forest him to leave his stirropes & leap after him, falling both on the hard ground, with more strength they embraced then doth the tender ivy encompass about the sturdy Oak.  
A good while tumbled they up and down the earth, till seeing neither could so vanquish his adversary, at once they parted, repairing to their weapons, whose sight once more might satisfy any mind of the like desire: for if the Mauritanian be nimble, the Scythian is a Roe in swiftness.  
Here might Mars himself learn as in a school, and with military principles gorge his sight. For being a foot on ground, it was admirable, to note the dexterity wherewith they assaulted, and skilful manner of retires. More noise made they than Vulcan's Cyclopean workmen. Three hours of the afternoon were passed, and they without fear of any loss, redoubled their blows as in the beginning. More used to arms was the Moor: but the youth was borne with his steeled coat, finding ease amidst the greatest war: so began he to vaunt of his advantage to the Mauritanians cost, that being wounded, began to faint, yet not so plainly, but would divers times put his battle in hazard.  
By this would Titan's shining beams obscure his splendour, drenching it in the Spanish Ocean, when the Lady apparently saw the advantage on bravorant's party, and judged him sufficiently honoured therewith, leapt from her horse, and stepping between them, said. Apart, apart, brave warriors, for it is no reason about a trifle of so small importance, you should make the world Orphan of your persons. Captivated was the Pagan in the gives of his Lady's gallantness, that he replied thus.  
Heroic Knight, though in some respect I be herein wronged, I will not work your discontent, and do leave the battle in this estate. I take upon me valiant knight (said he) the wrong offered you (if it be any to leave the fight) and I doubt not but this knight will take it well to cease it at this time.  
Well perceived the Mauritanian he might be fully persuaded now to have the worst, so he answered, he was content, and they should not want another time to end it. Thankful unto him for it was Floraliza, and offering him her friendship, the Moor departed, bearing with him enough to talk off in his City, of the Scythians courage. They sat them down, and the youth took off his helm: the like did the Lady, discoursing of Brufaldoros' bravery. This virtue among the rest, greatly adorned Brauorant, that he never took from any the merits that he thought him worthy of. So was he first in giving a beginning to Brufaldoros' praises. No better medicine could come to the lusty youth, than the sight of that human Goddess, whose beauty had so enchanted his senses, that he judged her all divine.  
He was not constant, for seeing the Greek Ladies, he strait forgot Floraliza, only the supremacy of beauty, making change in him. Most part of the night passed they with different thoughts: for the Pagan was solely overwhelmed in Contemplation of the Lady's graces, not daring to manifest his glory, for yet he was not sufficiently touched with loves fiery evil.  
The Lady though she was glad to have such company, were it but because he was an enemy to the Greeks, answered with her tongue what her heart felt not, which she had left in the possession of the Tynacrian, whose absence was able to distract her, thinking she should not see him any more. It is easy for the soul to believe the evil it is addicted too, for as it lives fearful and in doubt of the desired good, any contrary accident that happens, taketh firm possession of the Lover.  
In this conversation were the uncontrowled Brauorant and the Lady, when they heard a great noise like the fight of many knights, they took their way towards it, never finding out where it was. For the Magician Lupercio, had devised it to conduct the Pagan to the keeping of the marvelous Tower. So lost he the Lady which so extremely grieved him, that he had almost lost his wits: wandering three days up and down those woods calling for her, yet could hear no tidings, till thinking she was shipped to sea, he with his Page Artanio did the like. He arrived at the Tower, where he made his abode to the cost of many Fames, sending those that went with him in the ship, to the land for his necessary provision. Where for this time we leave him, till other occasion that will minister matter enough of his valiantness, and the Lady in search of Polliphebo, returning to Esclavonia, for in so long delay, we mightily have wronged the Princess Venus.   

CHAP. FOUR How the Prince Claridiano returned to prison, first discovering himself to Don Eleno, and what else happened.  
FRom the famous City of Xantho, went the two all-admired warriors (most fair Ladies) either envious of the other, to have seen the haughty Chivalries by their invincible arms. With joy they met the Page and Dwarf, that expected them in the Forest, discoursing of the Fortitude wherewith they proceeded in the battle, leaving their names in Xantho, consecrated to eternity.  
Of great esteem (said the Dwarf) should those knights prisoners be of, having obtained such defence.  
Thou sayest well (answered the Greek) for in the end according to their necessity, they were succoured with the valour of this knight, to whom the palm of the victory is due. I will not agree thereto Sir knight (said the Dacian), since the experience you have this day shown of your unconquered arm, witnesseth against any that on my behalf may be alleged. But leaving this (already alighted from their horses) it will glad my very soul, to know who hath this day enacted so many wonders.  
In comparison of yours (said the Greek) warlike Prince of Dacia, mine are of so small name, that they may boast of nothing more, then to be achieved by the favours of your presence, whose imagination, and the knowledge that Don Eleno of Dacia went in my defence, made me draw strength from my weakness, to show, that at least in something I may resemble to be your kinsman.  
And thereupon he did put off his helm, proceeding. I should wrong the Darian Lord, not to tell him who hath this day received such happy aid. His uncle did strait know him, and with a joyful voice embracing him, said. Until the death shall I complain me of this wrong (most excellent Prince of Greecia) in so long delaying the content I should receive by knowing you. For had I been witting of such dear company, I had still conceived more assurance of the victory.  
Myself being armed with that assurance, Heroic Prince (replied the Greek) made me reserve till now my discovery, purposing still from the beginning to do it till the battle ended, of whose good success I nothing doubted seeing you therein: and that you may be assured by what means you have bound me to your observance, know, that the combat was made for my liberty, being called in this country the Dpairing Knight, whose Princess taking pity of my wrong imprisonment, procured means to liberate me, and found one difficult enough, which was, to let me out through her garden, and gave me this armour, that I disguised, might for myself demand the battle: and since it hath so happened to our content, let us procure it for that Lady, by again presenting myself in her hands, yourself being witness thereof, for in nothing wronging the beauteous Rosamonde, little is adventured therein. It is just (replied the Dacian) brave Claridiano, that herein all our friends and kinsfolks aid us: and let us go, for whosoever stays, any delay is hurtful. Let us away (said the Greek) for more than is done resteth to be executed, and in affairs wherein our hands must be enured. For know, that this Lady (one of the world's beauties) is enamoured of the suspicious knight, who is the Prince of Croatia, that is prisoner, whose amity made me promise a thing inhuman, reason almost impossible, that maugre all the kingdom, I would set her in his hands, but now I see fortune hath brought it to more facility, conducting you hither: and I assure you, that his nobleness and friendship deserveth any kindness: whereto the Dacian spoke. It is enough to effect it (Heroic Prince) if you have promised it, for I by losing my life, do accomplish what I am bound to.  
With these animating reasons they arrived to the door where the Lady expected them, with so great fear seeing they stayed so long, that she was a thousand times about to go away.  
The two haughty warriors alighted, and the Prince giving his watchword, the joyful Lady opened the door and said: I promise you despairing knight, you behave yourself so like an ill prisoner, that another time there will be no licence to walk forth, having made this so long.  
He replied, I am so pleasant (excellent Princess) with this imprisonment, that I would ere I returned bring company with me, that the might participate of the joy here enjoyed. A greater offence than the committed, deserveth pardon with so good excuse. Conditionally (answered she) that I know who he is, for seeing with what courage he helped the Greek Prince, makes me suspect he is of that happy Country. Claridiano replied. So great is the desire I have towards your service (sovereign Venus,) that it was able to bring in my aid, and your service no less than my dear Lord and Uncle Don Eleno, Prince of Dacia. Who had already put off his Helm, discovering his excellent complexion, entreating the kissing of her white hand. He that hath them so good (said she) is wronged, in not commanding that honour of all the Orb. Now may I live content, knowing that the protectors of all necessities abides in my Court: And since in handling my affairs, you make me your everlasting friend, I know not why I should not openly reveal my secrets to you, though to my cost, for it will not discontent him who hath placed all felicity so faithfully to love. And to this end, it will be good the Prince of Dacia should go to the suspicious knight's lodging, that he may at large know, what hereaway hath happened. To morrow I will send him one of my Damsels, to show it him. For it behoves the Greek Prince to return to prison, lest he be missed.  
Whereto the Dacian answered. With whatsoever your sovereign beauty shall command, will I rest most contented. For here now we only will procure yours, although therein I hazard my life. I hoped no less of such a knight (said she) for such as you in defending I receive no wrong, aught to show they be knights. And hereupon they departed, appointing that with his Page and Dwarf, he should go to the grove of Lovers, whither they would advise him by Fausta the next day what shall be done, and surely making the door fast, she took the Greek Prince by the hand, saying.  
I am sorry renowned Prince to have put you in so many dangers in my behalf. but I trust in the divine powers, I shall one day show myself not ungrateful: he answered. Small is not the wrong I receive by those words, your sovereign beauty being assured that if I have, or shall have any content, it is only to procure yours, and believe me, of little desert is the hazard of my life in so necessary danger, and so much the more, knowing that in Venus' service, any peril is a pastime.  
I'll suffer myself to be flattered herein (said she) & that my beauty hath obtained so good credit. And because I think it is reason you return to the Tower, here put off your armour, for these will I keep with me, to put me in remembrance how much I am indebted to their Master. With such grace she disarmed him, that she disgraced Cynthia in her pride, though then she seemed more fair, then when she visited Endymion.  
He took his leave of the Lady, and going through the Cave, they mounted the stairs, where in his chamber he found his trusty Polisandro, with the discreet Fausta; that expected him with some fear of his long tarrying, although they had not grieved had he a little longer stayed, for the damsels witty chat had attracted the Page's affection, and were they wise, they had not deferred the execution of their desires, since so good opportunity the Greek had given them with his absence.  
Galtenor doth not express it only, saith: that when the Prince of Croacia went to aid Greece, and carried Venus and Fausta with him, that she seeing Polisandro there knighted, was contented to be made a Lady, a manifest token for any suspected mind to think they had contracted it. From thence went the damsel accompanied with Polisandro to Venus' chamber, and returned to the Prince, closed the Cave after him, of whom he understood the Dacian was the knight that helped him.  
Who being out of the garden, mounted on his swift Tirio, and alighted in the Forest he was appointed, whither he was directed (as one that well knew it) by the dwarf, that with him and his Page in pleasant chat passed away most part of the night, glad to have occasion wherein he might help his cousin. So the time to take some rest being come, he stepped aside from them, and lying along the green grass with his head on his helm, he slept the greatest part of the night, and taking his shield, strait went towards that place, and coming to a spacious plain, at the farther end thereof, he could discern some shepherds that attended their flocks. They were talking of their commonwealth affairs, entermingling them with matters of love. The haughty Dacian arrived, and assuring them from the fear they conceived by his coming, said. Fear not gentle shepherds, for my coming is not to discontent you, save only thoroughly to hear your discourses of amorous cares.  
One of them that seemed to command the rest, answered. We very much esteem (sir Knight) of the good opinion you have of the Esclavonian shepherds, and believe me, there is no reason to conceive the contrary, especially of those that feed their flocks in the grove of Lovers, for here with most efficacy doth Love manifest his power unto us, because true love should never be wanting, from among these spreading myrtles, on whose leaves and growing barks, is the life of those Lovers written, to encourage him that languisheth, seeing what they suffered, whose deaths with their names, named this Grove.  
Great occasion gallant shepherds, hath the hearing of this Grove been (replied the Dacian) to bring me hither from my far remoted country, to know the adventure thereof. The shepherds did rest affected to him, seeing his behaviour: and some more precisely noting him, (having that day been in the City) knew him to be one of the Knights that had with such honour ended the battle, so made answer. To no place (sir knight) could you have come, to have more truer information of the thing you desire, than this, for being so long since we have kept our flocks herein, we have learned of our elders why this valley is called of the Lovers. Whereto the Dacian said: Why then should I impute it a favour (if it be no trouble) to relate it me, wherein you shall perpetually bind me? In much more than this (replied the discreet shepherd) desire we to content yond, for your deeds this day done in Alantho, deserve far much more. So sat he down among them, where the shepherd began his story in this manner. When here arrived the Author and builder of this great City, and first King of this country, there inhabited on the highest top of this mountain, a people whose quiet and pleasing dwelling through their excellent government and care, brought it to be the gallantest & most pleasantest Town in althiss kingdom. Lord of this soil was a knight, Celio by name, the valiantest and of rarest constitution, then known in all the universe, insomuch that he was called the Oracle of his age. He had two brothers, the second named Alcyno, and the third Larsinio, they had a sister younger than themselves, but elder in beauty, which was such, that from many places strangers came only to see her perfeéeions, on whom some lost their lives at the very first sight. This Lady called Laissa, their Parents did consecrate to this Grove, dedicated to Diana, to administer to her rites in company of her other vowesses, they brought her there so young, and she so much delighted in that solitude, giving herself solely to hunt, that she became so exceedingly oblivious of her Parents and kindred, that she procured by all means possible to occult herself from them, and all human creatures: it was easy to be done by reason of the thickness and intricate passages of the same, which was no little joy to her, thinking she lived never more to be seen of any. This life did she lead till the age of fourteen years: for than did her beauty stain the suns in his midday's pride, whose fame the other Nymphs of the Temple published abroad throughout the spacious world. One day among the rest, as Prince Celio accustomed to recreate himself, descending this way on hunting, he chanced to find her near a clear fountain that lies behind this little hill, called the Unfortunate, by reason of that which happened thereat. Where Celio seeing her, and of such admirable beauty, blame him not if he yielded a thousand souls, (so many if he had) for much more deserved her excellencies and most gracious bravery. He went towards her, showing by his alteration what he went for, and how estranged from himself he should departed, at the drawing of his attracted eyes from her sight. From her being, rose the solitary Goddess discontented, to have met with that knight, who seeing her, disdaining coyness, followed to overtake her, staining her with sighs that proceeded from the midst of his perplexed heart: but the free Lady careless of his cares, declared hers, in only hasting her swift running steps, turning her face, from whom acknowledged her for his Goddess. She could not so far outrun him, but he at last overtook her, and catching hold by her thin sleeve, falling on his knees, began thus. Oh sacred Lady, why should you show such cruelty against him that must live only to love you, hoping for no longer life than you shall grant, admitting his devotion? but oh, if you shall joy to prosecute your strangeness, let me not prorogue your vengeance on myself.  
While this dagger is ready to execute your sharp decree, for so you do remain without displeasure, it will be my pleasure to satisfy your doom with my death.  
The cruelty (sir knight) you speak of, should I use towards myself? (replied the disdainful Laissa) should I regard your prayers, knowing how Capital the offence is against the chaste Diana, whose Nymphs (of whom I being one) are first afore all other things sworn to the purity of a single life? and so myself joying in the sweetness of so choice a living as that led in solitude, should not then cruelly tyrannize over my coontent, procuring your ease, to lose my liberty? With many currents of pearled tears distilling from his eyes, the amorous Celio answered.  
Never (sacred Goddess) did my imagination so much as think by loving to work my content, in any thing to abridge yours: only I beseech (and this is not to offend you) that though my merits deserve not your sight, nor myself be worthy to adore you, I may to nourish my else dying life, make you solely to myself, the sole commandress of my oppressed soul, and that I may repair to your glorious name, with the tributary duties of my poor hearts spoils. Somewhat milder grew the sister of amorous Celio, for there is no Lady so cruel and unthankful, but rejoices to be beloved, for such virtue doth love set in the Lady loved, that only to deserve the gift to be beloved, she will love.  
She would have answered, but the coming of Alcyno the second brother interrupted her, who almost before he saw her, rendered his soul unto her, as a pledge of his true love. The like sacrifice did the third make of his, that then arrived, which two last seeing their brother, and with that Lady, ere they knew how to love, expressed approved tokens to be jealous. To break their silence, the third brother said. What good fortune is this, (good brother) to meet with so gallant a Lady in so solitary a place? So have the heavens appointed it my dear brother (replied Celio.) And being nothing jealous of them, to fear to say his mind, added: that the power of my thoughts being employed on her, my soul may triumph in content to have found such a Sovereign. Most worthy is her beauty (said the second) of the offer of my noble thought, whose relics may solemnize her bravery: neither is unoccupied, for Love doth occupy them all.  
And whilst Alcino speaks, Larsinio gluts himself with gazing. And if by chance all three be silent, she by moving the Organs of her speech, kindles the fire that vnconsumingly doth burn them. Celio loves, and the mollified Lady looking on him, by the motions of her eye-resplending suns, with infinite signs of hopes, doth encourage him to persist in his moved suit: and for his sake, she affects the other two, knowing they were his brethren. She expressed it by her kind words, in answering them.  
Such is the condition of love (most beauteous Ladies, credit me, it is known by experience) that any amorous motion how feigned soever, is accepted of the Lover, as a manifest token, that only he, is he, solely beloved.  
In like manner fell it out with the brothers. For as the Lady without strangeness kindly spoke to them, the more to win Celio to herself, either of the others accounted themselves to be especially beloved. The greatest part of the day continued they in pleasing that, entangling themselves in the snares of that deceiving net, that there with thousand childish toys did leap from bow to bow to ensnare these poor Lovers in their own unhappy conceits, until the withdrawing time of the recluse Goddess called her away, which forced the three brothers to return unto their home, purposing every day to come thither, in quest of whom they loved, yet minding to take their several way. For nothing was sufficient to dissuade the two brothers that they were not beloved, to desist the prosecuting of their intented loves. Sometimes after they spoke with the Lady, not knowing nor remembering she was their sister: but she by all exterior means, told the two younger, she could admit none save the elder. Nevertheless, so possessed was love of the two brother's souls, that in such sort it blinded them, that they would never believe it was as she said, and their own eyes saw to be most true: for the perfect sincere love which nourish them, caused them to devise the expedients means to end their passionated labours. They found it, and to their lives cost: for passing some months in this entertainment, one day, dismal and black to this Country (since so much calamity fell on it) Larsinio the younger brother hastened his coming to seek his sister, clad all in rich shining armour. He met with her at the unhappy Fountain (through their luckless events so called) in whose bubbling Current she was washing her fair white Alabaster hands. His Beaver lifted up the Lover, and nimbly leaping from his horse, went strait towards the Fount. To receive him ranue the Lady, guerdoning his coming with a loving embrace, not as to her brother or Lover, but so near in ally to him whom with heart she tendered, which the Prince attributed not to Celio in favour, nor his consanguinity to Laissa, save to his own pure love, which was so great, that he judged himself in respect of deserver of that courtesy.  
But Fortune now already weary, and angry the earth should longer contain them, ordained Alcino should see the embracement, who not knowing his brother by reason he was armed, set spurs to his horse being also in arms. The Lover closed his Vizor seeing the other come in that manner, and mounting on his horse, stepped to him, saying. What seek you in such haste sir knight?  
Only (replied the second brother) to let you know the little reason you had to offer violence unto that Lady.  
Enraged, as well indeed he might, became the unwary youth, and not supposing he was his brother, turned about his Courser, and said. Why then stay bold knight, for this shall chastise thy rude rash intention. Alcino couched his Lance, making their encounters with as much noise, as if two ships had met. Of mighty forces were the youths, and so they prosecuted their battle with as much strength as cruelty, that the Lady which beheld them, could not but pity the blows which Larsinio received with some tears: for the love she bore his brother, forced her to shed them.  
The second brother closed with Larsinio, striking away at one stroke the half of his shield, wounding him sorely on the arm, which was occasion they cast either's arms about the other, with such power, that both fell from their Saddles to the ground. Striving, up and down they tumbled on the grass, bespringling the earth with their blood.  
When the haughty Celio arrived, who seeing the battle, not perceiving the Lady there, leapt from his horse, and drawing forth his sword, went towards them and said. In courtesy sir knights, cease a while your fights, which causeless seems to be so fierce. Either was so fleshed against the other, thinking the Lady offended by either's action, that unwilling to obey their elder brother, (that being also in rich habiliments of war was not known) Alcino made reply.  
Do not you sir knight seek to part our Combat, whose cause we have adjudged too sufficient.  
Notwithstanding (said Celio) for my sake and entreaty, I hope you will leave it. It will be then (answered the youngest) to make you confess you are discourteous, in wishing peace where none is desired. And so he being got between them, and they both angered together, they discharged two such blows upon him, that he repent to have undertaken that demand: but being of incomparable strength, quickly settled himself among them, beginning one of the fiercest fights in the world. Above two hours they continued hacking, and without pity cruelly cutting their arms and flesh, that every one had above eight wounds.  
The Lady feared some unhappy chance, whose heart was so deliberated with fear to see Larsinio so wounded (for the others she knew not) that she could not rise, nor with her voice give notice she was there: so we gave occasion unto the lamentablest and most unlucky act that ever was acted. For Celio weary of so long delay, defending himself of the second brother, with a cruel thrust to his thinking bereft poor Larsinio of his life, whose death so extremely grieved Alcino, (as if he had known him) that despairing of life, did cast his shield to the ground, and closed with his brother, who doing the like, so long wrasled, that both fell to the earth, where drawing forth their daggers, with equal blows either stabbed in the others body together at once, losing their vital breathing, to the Ladies so great sorrow, that she thought to burst.  
She rose, bewailing that accursed hap, and went to Larsinio, took off his Helm, and seeing him like one dead, she became more than dead. Needs would she know the others, which was cause of greater evil, for their Helms being off and known who they were, a thousand lamentations did she breath into the air, banning her misfortune.  
She fell in a trance, and twice or thrice lost the motion of her moving powers, and at length recovering herself, and seeing the three Princes, for her sake with such remorseless savadgenesse slain, tearing the golden trammels of her amber hair, whose beauty eclipsed Apollo's light, thus she began her lament.  
Oh cruel heavens, wherein have I deserved this mortal plague? Or how have I offended, you should so much malign my hopes, to oppose your happy influences with such dire event, against the springing of my joys? Had you suffered me to keep my life within the limits of my solitary walks, these Princes had not seen me, and so not viewing my ill bestowed beauty, they had not desired what solely was due to one. Oh dear Princes, you should have been contented to see your brother beloved, and yourselves for his sake affected, to desist the procurement of your pleasure, with his, and your own deaths. Oh chaste Goddess, why didst thou suffer so execrable a fact, hateful, abhorred and detestable were my life unto the world, should I desire to live, that saw the timeless end of your unripe years. For this, oh this vain momentary fading beauty! How, oh how may she (valiant Princes) recompense this deed, this dear and amorous deed, but to imitate you in death, that did Idolatrize me in life? Reason had Tysbe to suffer for her Lover, and Hero, rather to taste of the bitter waters of death, then of the active fire of love, that in her entrails burned. None had such reason to die as I: and in speaking it, to prolong my despised life, I do offend: which though I might, I will not enjoy, in absence of those three that did so dearly love me. Three lives would I have heroic Princes, to bestow on either one, being debtor unto you for three, but since I cannot, to thee sweet Celio, my soul and heart I do bequeath: my good will and affection to Alcyno and Larsinio, and my poor chaste life, with my immaculate and unspotted thoughts, to thee most sacred Goddess do I I sacrifice, in extenuation of my fault. Whereupon with mortal fury she drew Celios' sword, and setting her breast to the sharp point, she offered her life to deaths triumphing spoils. Which no sooner was effected, but the blue heavens with thick fogs and mists was clouded, with thundering and lightning, and innumerable horrible voices, that struck deadly terror in the harmless people, who with their flocks and herds of cattle, perished. Their bodies were never found, nor if is not known what is become of them, more than that their lives and deaths, with the manner and occasion, was found carved in characters upon some Oaks there adjoining, where some shepherds have often seen a Cave, from whence issues such flames and smoke, that it consumed the Trees near to it, and it is many years, since none dares through fear let their flocks feed thereabouts.  
This is (sir knight) what you have demanded, and of so many reports the truest: where the shepherd ended. Naturally was the Prince courageous and desirous of such adventures, and so very earnest did he inquire for the Cave, determining to enter and see what it contained.  
The shepherds showed it him more to content him, then to think he would adventure to descend thither. But being hard by it, with invincible courage (in the end like Don Eleno) he told them his will. They sorrowed thereat, & with no few tears they sought to dissuade him from it, yet nothing could put him from his purpose, respecting neither theirs, Fabios, nor his dwarfs entreaties: but drawing forth his sword, and taking his enchanted shield, he recommanded himself to his heavenly Protector, and them to expect his return, and so directed his steps towards the infernell Cave, where what happened him, the next recounteth.   

CHAP. V How Don Eleno proved the adventure of the Lovers, and what end he gave it. And how in Xantho he made a challenge about the two Prince's liberties.  
WIth Brutus' sword in hand, and his new enchanted shield, with majestic steps marching towards the timorous cave, (most kind Lady) left we the Dacian Prince, with whom neither the entreaties of his Pages nor shepherds, prevailed to give over his commenced enterprise: neither the necessity wherein he knew he had left his dear Cousin Claridiano, & the beauteous Venus, with the Prince of Croacia, for his desire to know what that fearful cave contained, made him dispense with all these, and drown the memory of his own affairs in the centre of oblivion.  
So with Herculean courage committing his safety to the powers divine, he began to enter the terror-bréeding Cave, that rather seemed an infernal descent unto the hellish vaults, so much, and so furious was the fire that thither welcomed him: from utter burning by those consuming flames did despairing Brutus enchanted armour defend him: yet nevertheless felt he the greatest pain in all his life: for besides innumerable number of horrible voices that sounded within that hollowness, many thousand hideous deformed shapes and apparitions opposed themselves against him, with steeled mazes hammering on his body, with such celereity, that sometimes his hands, than his knees, and sometimes both, he was forced to sit on the ground: insomuch that his own blows wherewith he struck the empty air, served to no other purpose, but with the fruitless exercise to weary his arm, that he could not feel it.  
In this uneven war laboured he about an hour, minding many times to return back, so erterne hot was the fire, but surprised with consideration of whom he was, and what ignominious infamy awaighted such an act, with much striving he obtained the end of the burning Cave, where he met with a great Pillar, which nothing displeased him, that by getting behind it, might defend him from his pursuers. But here was he in the greatest danger of all his life time, for the Pillar he embraced, became a most fearful Giant, who so strongly priest him, that he thrust his armour within his flesh, and the flames being no less, that from him proceeded, than those he endured thitherward.  
He strongly stayed himself, remembering whom he had to do with, and casting his mighty arms about him, turned him up and down as if he had been some common Knight, till angered that so long that wrists had lasted, he hoist him from the ground, and with the utmost of his strength ran him against the wall, that terminated the Cave. Scarce had he done it, when vanishing, in his place he fit a door, through which with uncontrowled mind he entered, coming into a fresh delightsome green, with such different variety of trees in such artificial order set, that the sight eased him of his past toil. At one end thereof he saw a sumptuous building, seeming not by human hands erected, for the top raised like to a Pyramid, seemed to check the clouds in height, and as the same reverberated on the glittering stones, the great splendour thereof dazzled the beholder's eyes. At the entrance thereof stood three pines, to support so many Arches, under which lay three Knights, which seemed to defend the entry. The one and biggest in constitution of body, was clad in Indian colour armour, with many Lilies graven there upon. And on his shield, that hung at the tree, was figured the portraiture of Faith, with this word.  
On earth if any honour be,  
All tried honour comes by me.  
The other two were alike in sky colour arms, full of strawberries, and on their shields Envy pictured with many eyes, as the Assyrians used to paint her, the inscription thus.  
envies servants thousands are,  
All which mischiefs do devise:  
Then to look on each one's care,  
Envy must have many eyes.  
All three showed themselves to be of valour, which made the Dacian Lord imagine (as indeed they were). laissa's brothers. Before the Arches there was made a horse race, at the beginning whereof, hung a Table with these words, whose meaning Don Eleno read thus.  In the time to come, when the most happiest in Love, and with whom Fortune hath showed herself most favourable, shall here arrive, than this adventure of the Lovers shall have end: and also the torments that Laissa suffers: for so hath Nycosiano the great Magician of the Green valley ordered. 
Plainly did the Dacian perceive, that the Table spoke by him, since through so many misfortunes he had arrived to so happy a Haven, as the enjoying of his beauteous Rosamonde. With gallant Majesty he entered the race, being confronted by the younger of the three brothers. The rest seeing the war offered them, mounted on their Coursers preparing for it, as they which had no more judgement, but for that, judge of the battle needs would Cupid be, the mighty K. of souls and Hearts, sitting in all royalty on a Imperial throne, for workmanship stupendious, showing himself (his eyes not blinded) with ireful aspect. At his feet lay prostrated all those that had rebelled against his decree.  
But they which had maintained his statutes, and observed his laws, and with vain Idolatry adored his rights, sat round about in royal chairs, every one in his degree, according to the supremacy of his deserts: and with most care of obedience acknowledging his feoltie, repairing to him with the due tribute of his soul, as to their true sworn Prince.  
The signal of the fight was given with so many thousands of military instruments, as if heaven and earth should meet. Whereat swifter than an airy thought, the warlike warrior pricked against Larsinio, encountering him with such strength, that he forced him lose his stirropes and bridle, & had almost overthrown him from his saddle. With brave gallantness past the Dacian forwards, turning upon his adversary with his naked sword in his hand, but scant had he done so, when quicker than the wind, the second brother spurred against him, running at his back with such force, that had he not held by his horse neck, he had kissed the ground.  
He had not done executing this blow, when like a thunderbolt the mighty Celio departed to him, meeting him (after the breaking of his lance) so forcibly with his horse's breast, that both tumbled to the ground. On his feet fell the Dacian, amazed at the knight's devise: who gave him no longer time for this consideration, for the two that on horseback remained, returned to overthrow him. He could not defend himself, for the course was short, and so headlong they overturned him. Ere he could rise, Celio stepped to him, with the greatest blow he had in all his life received, for it had almost struck him senseless, laying him all along upon the earth.  
All this was no means to put the Dacian from his skilful proceeding, for ere he could second another, like a furious Lion he rose on his feet, resolved to expect them. He saw himself in danger of death, for the two that remained on horseback, (with quick and sudden carriers) so oppressed him, as he lost his hope, with honour to issue out of that enterprise.  
Among the horses he settled himself strongly. A thing worthy his valour he did, for his shield forwards, he expected Larsinio, that to encounter him had advanced himself, but no more he moved him, then if he had run against a rock, whom with his horse staggering back, the Dacian forced to fall, whereat the Prince was glad, knowing that on foot he could better deal with them. So he stepped aside, letting Alcino pass, and as he went, gave him such a thrust, which was it that assured him the victory, making him therewith, maugre his strength, to leave his saddle. For all this he had no cause to boast of the blow: for the enraged Celio ran to him with both hands laying on his rich helm, the temper gave him his life, else had his head down to his neck been divided, yet made he the blood in great abundance gush through his nose.  
By this were the other two up with their swords in hand. It was a combat most worthy Cupid's sight, for the three are mighty, and the Dacian the same he was wont, and a foot stronger than Mars, he showed himself like a cunning fencer, setting forth at length his shield and sword, to entice them to make offer. Herein he prevailed, for most blows he received on his shield, which being inpenetrable, they did not so much as raze it.  
In this manner a while he behaved himself, but he judged it cowardice so to end the battle: wherefore bravely he rushed among them, well covering himself with his shield, and as he passed, he gave the second brother such a counterbuff on the helm, striking away a great part of his vizor that it was adventure he had not done so by his head.  
Down along the breast descended the sword, making there a long dangerous wound, with another he would have ended that battle, had the other two let him. But the haughty Celio with empoisoned rage entered so much inwards, that at his pleasure he could discharge his fury on the top of the enchanted shield, not able to cut it, yet so weighty was the blow, that three or four steps staggering backwards, it forced him.  
Larsinio was not idle, for with a strong point he thrust at his breast. He felt the blow, for it deprived him of his breath's passage. The two brothers had not discharged their blows, when the wounded Alcyno returned, and with both hands gave him a most mighty stroke. Rezound with Echo did the green fields, by the warriors stern stupendious blows. And the angry judge was astonished to see with what cruelty they assailed each other.  
Advantage had the warlike Dacian in his armour, for though he was tired, yet they had no scar. Otherwise was it with the brothers, for the field was besprinkled with their blood. Don Elenos celerity much availed him, else he had not got the victory so cheap, but it and the sureness of his arms, makes it certain. Three hours have they fought, making no show of fainting, in the end of which, was the Dacian already at the extremest of his rage, thinking he had the worst of the fight, so casting his shield at his back, and with his sword twixt both hands, began to brandish it among them, quicker than the Cyclopian Smiths do their crooked hammers, and as he could not miss them, he gave no blow but fetched blood. In the self same Coin do they pay him: for the three more fiercer than Alcides, assailed him so bravely, that if he gives, he receives, and in greater quantity, with equal quality. Now skill and dexterity prevails not with him, all he remits to blows, wherewith he rends, cuts, and in pieces shivers their armour, privy coats and shields.  
He would first dispatch Celio which most troubled him, so getting from the two, entered to him, and in his assault, with a downright blow he cut away his shield, with all his vanbrace, and a great piece of his shoulder. Scarce had he done it, when with a point he turned against the second, thrusting three parts of his sword under his arm pit, where had he put forth his arm as he mought, for ever had he there lain.  
Upon Larsinos waste he discharged his fury so fiercely, that it was a wonder he had not in two divided him. The heavens preserved him to pay his jealousy, although against the Dacian Prince he lost thereby. In his very soul was Celio vexed, to see with what rigour that one knight handled them, that taking his sword strongly in his fist, aimed aloft, giving Alcyno time to give him a dangerous blow on the thigh: for falling between a joint, it made him a wound outwards: so great was the pain, as he could not stand on that leg, which the brothers perceiving, and assuring themselves the victory, began to oppress him so vehemently, as they deprived him of breathing. Eager herein seemed the third brother, and would make some show of his valour, but it rezulted to his dear cost. For Don Eleno noting his intent, gave back, as fearing the rest, and so let the third enter: who being within his reach, with incredible force laid him on the head, he cut away most of his Helm, with a great piece of his head, tumbling him at his feet, helping him thereto, with another no less strong.  
The other two closed with him, lamenting the success. He could not refuse the wrasle. He entered thereto advisedly, first drawing forth his dagger, quickly they fell on the ground, where they tumbled a good while. It was advantage for the Dacian to be so, for stretching forth his arm in that place where before Alcyno was wounded on the front, there again Don Eleno strooke him, making him lose his hold, with the pangs of death. Then he turned on the first, whom for his valour he had affected, but at that instant forgetting it, let fly at his breast a most cruel stab, wherewith he ended the bravest adventure ever in that kingdom known. The noise which the haughty edefice made, vanishing away, was heard through all the City of Xantho. To Cupid's Throne was the Lady conveyed, in that manner, as she witnessed her brother's deaths: whom the God of love thanked for her amorous act, in giving herself the mortal stroke of death, only moved through zealous love, for which he promised her felicity in her amours.  
Against the two brothers that were causers of that unhappy event, was the sentence read to this effect. To the purgatory of jealousy and Envy let them be carried, where they may purge the pain that their rash unadvised proceedings did put the famous Celio in. Whom the mighty judge commanded to be sent unto the house of Hope, where he might live in joy, and sure he should obtain a glorious and amorous end, deserved by his faith, and that the remembrance of loving his sister, should not annoy him.  
This being done in presence of the Dacian, who unable to stir, with many flashes of lightning, the heavens were somewhat darkened, till all was past, he found himself in the open field, hard by the beauteous Layssa, and before them a Pillar of fire, with these words which Don Eleno did read in this manner.  
The Purgatory of Enviers shall here remain, justly punishing the two Lovers: till the son of the cruel Lioness shall give them liberty: Discovering also the Castle of Hope: whose wonders shall not be by any seen, till the four most fiercest Lionesses shall meet at this Fount.  
So greatly desired the Prince to see the scroll, that he saw not the Lady, till turning about, he spied her come towards him a pace, already assured of the true manner of this success, and how she was sister to the dead: yet knowing they remained but enchanted, joyfully going near him, said. I know not (most sovereign knight) how I may satisfy the duty you have bound me too, in hazarding your life for me in so manifest a peril: although so brave a deed as this, brings with it his due recompense.  
It is sufficient (excellent Lady) answered the Prince, that it be known, I did you therein some service, which bond all the world (seeing what wrong you endured, being kept here) to procure the remedy. The coming of the shepherds, Squire and Dwarf, intercepted their farther speech. Every one did their duty to the Prince and Lady. Whom Don Eleno received, as if he had not in a long time seen them.  
At this time entered the same an infinite number of knights, accompanying the king and the Prince Lindauro, that galloped amain to know the news. The shepherds advanced themselves, for reward of the news, saying: that the russet knight which had ended the battle in the City, had terminated the Lovers-aduenture. It greatly gladded every one for laissa's disinchauntment: though being done by Don Eleno, it nothing pleased the king, that in his heart did hate him. By this approached the Dacian on his mighty Tyrio, bringing the Lady behind him, so fair, that she affected every one, and had not Lindauro borne so great good will towards Venus, doubtless he had elected her his Goddess.  
The King entertained him with better exterior show, then inward mind, thanking him for the good he had done in his kingdom. The Dacian would not (after he had replied with his becoming duty) treat of any thing touching the prisoners liberties, but rather devised other matter of discourse, till they all fixed their eyes on a gallant Knight, that descended down the valley so well armed, that it delighted every one. None there but gazed on him, and the Lady with somewhat more earnestness: and with affection began to commend his bravery. He was mounted on a mighty Rone Courser, his armour of a Tawny, garnished with many green flowers, which bravely became him. His shield about his arm, in midst whereof was a knight lying along, laying forth his breasts to Cupid, that with a dart angrily seemed to threaten him with this Motto.  
Strike home, the Gods will sure his worth commend,  
Who spoils a wretch, that wants means to defend.  
His lance he carried in his hand, and with such heroic grace, that excepting the knights which ended the battle, they had not seen any of better disposition. Approaching and doing his duty to the king, he strait knew Don Eleno by his devise, which not a little pleased him to meet him in those parts, for he himself was the mighty Bransmiano, Prince of Babylon, Florions Nephew, and son to Brandizel, and he that in Grecia was chosen for the third challenger of the Imperial jousts, and going with his father to Babylon, was separated from him by a tempest. The youth was not in love, but came in the last condition of being, for turning about and looking on that Lady, in recompense of his sight, he gave her both heart and soul, and yet complained of himself to have given her no more, judging her beauty to deserve far more.  
The king demanded who he was, joying that such a knight should arrive at his Court. But he excused himself the best he could, imagining that his discovery might displease the Dacian. The king would not seem to importune him over much therein, so turning about, returned with all his train to the City. It was already known in every place what had happened, & Venus had advertised the Greek thereof, who was exceeding glad of his uncles adventure. All the popularity entertained the Dacian with loud salutations of immortal praises, saying: Long live the knight that hath so honoured our land. It so vexed Lindauro, that a thousand times he was about to command them to silence, but he dissembled it to conceal his evil intent. So near went the new Persian Lover to Laissa, that all full of affection, he took occasion to speak thus. With reason may your sovereign beauty complain of all knights, for being so remiss in procuring your liberty, that they might lose theirs. The Lady well understood him, for she was skilful in the Art of Love, and now again beginning therein, plainly conjectured the end, so replying to the purpose, said. Of myself may I most lament (sir knight) to be borne with such lack of fortune, that I rather attribute my long imprisonment to it, then to the fault of stranger knight, for being ended by this knight, that was the first which proved it, it might have happened so to any other, wherefore I am solely grieved with mine own misfortune: and sorry would I be, that my liberty should cause such loss as you speak of, for I would have none complain of wrong by me. They arrived at the Palace, where the beauteous Laissa lighted in the arms of the Prince of Babylon, being led by the aids of Don Eleno and Bransiniano, which content not a little increased her beauty. More fairer than the sun in May Venus expected her coming. They embraced one another with that kindness that befitted their estates, whereupon the Princess said.  
I know not sovereign Lady, to whom this Court shall be hereafter most bound unto, whether to this knight, that with his valour hath so honoured it, liberating you from so injust prison, or to your excellency, that so hath beautified it. The Dacian replying said. Most beauteous Princess, be assured that whilst you live, there will want none that shall be in your debt, less than with his life, since you attribute to me, what only is due with such right to this Lady's beauty, in whose deliverance the ending of this adventure was nothing. Ready to burst with anger stood Lindauro, seeing with what kindness Venus spoke to that knight, which made him suspect his ending the adventure, and what he had done in the place, had moved her to affection. He could no longer endure it, but called him, saying. Come (sir Knight) and relate unto the King what befell you with the Lovers, for we shall all rejoice to hear it.  
From the Ladies he went, leaving the Persian with them, between whom they admitted him: for which place, Phoebus had exchanged his throne celestial. Venus' while Don Eleno discoursed with the kings, demanded of him in this manner.  
Sir knight, quietly and without grudge, if you will enjoy so great a favour as this, you must tell us your name, raising your beaver, and this small satisfaction shall satisfy so high a benefit? The Persian replied. I had ere this done it (sacred Princess) without demand, but I feared to displease thereby the knight in russet: for although he hath not known me, I could not have met with better hap than him in this country, and if he be here known, I will declare my name, else I beseech your excellency, do not command it me. I only am she (of all this kingdom contains, said Venus) that knows him, and he not a little joyed, discovered himself to me: and so without fear may you tell me yours, for this Lady and myself excepted, none shall ever know it.  
To satisfy your content (excellent Lady answered he) I'll no longer conceal it, I am Bransiniano, Prince of Babylon and Persia, the greatest friend the Greeks have, by reason my father was brought up in company of the Emperor Alphebo, and I in Claridianos, in whose demand I wander, & as this knight is his so near kinsman, I cannot but affect him: and had I not this reason, yet his valour binds me to his love: and raising his vizor, showed his fair face, saying. Because you shall be assured (divine Ladies) how much I desire your service, I have discovered all that of myself I can.  
I do highly esteem (brave Prince replied Venus) the account you have given me of your stock, and because I will not long be your debtor for the same, I will give you news of that Greek you seek, who in this Palace is prisoner, unknown to any what he is, save to the Prince of Dacia and me, who shall at large acquaint you with the cause, which is not lawful any other should know: and so I entreat your sovereign beauty, my dear Laissa, to conceal it. So elevated in contemplations of her new amorous thoughts, was the Lady, that neither it, nor what else was talked of, did she mark, for of none did ever love with more power take possession, willingly making her submit, seeing how great a Prince he was.  
She replied not to the purpose, saying. I greatly desire (excellent Princess) that since your knight hath recounted to them their demands, he do it here to us. Venus knew not to what end she so replied, but being witty, quickly conceived what might be the reason, so dissembling it, said. There is no reason but we should be satisfied herein. So calling their Damsel Fausta, sent her in their behalf to Don Eleno. But they could not end to give her her charge, by reason of a sudden tumult that arose where the king was. The Persian hearing it, stood up, and closing his beaver, taking leave of the Ladies, went towards the Dacian, at what time somewhat moved, he thus began.  
Gladly (most mighty king of Esclavonia) would I have deferred until some other occasion, what I will now say, because I would not disturb this present joy. But so great is the necessity I have to departed, that it forceth me to beseech thee, in respect of the justice thou haste always maintained, thou wouldst be pleased to give me the prisoners, whose liberty cost me so much blood, and my companion much more, whose words have not suffered him to come with me, although he requested me I should on his behalf, entreat so much of his Majesty, since as it seemed you rested content, we should about their discharge undertake the battle. Consider it well, and answer me strait, for I will immediately departed, publishing the injustice I have in thy Court received, through all the world. Here he ended, doing his duty. Well (said the king) he had reason, but he was so suborned by the Prince Lindauro, that to please him, he chose rather to reject it, answering: I know (brave knight) you have reason to demand these prisoners, but seeing they slew such great Princes, whose kindred crying out for justice, forceth me to detain them. To this said Lindaura, your Majesty doth wrong your royal Crown and seat, by so many ways, and in so many respects, to give this knight so many satisfactions of what with great right and justice is done. These words so enraged the Dacian, that he was almost resolved to strike him, but he stayed himself, not willing to raise the whole Hall upon him, so he replied.  
It better would beseem thee Prince of Siconia to make known thy valour, defending thy own justice with thy proper person, by honourable means, and not by so infamous a manner. And that thou mayst know what wrong is done me, I here alone challenge the fight against two knights, whom thou shalt appoint about this matter, or if thou wilt like a good knight accept my gage, I defy thee, person to person, giving thee advantage for the combat, (that thou mayest see and know my justice) I will combat on foot in armour, without weapons, as sword, dagger, and lance, and thou shalt take the field, and have thy choice in arms.  
So great was the advantage, that it was able to turn a tender Lamb unto a fierce Lion, and not regarding his honour, he did accept it presently, from which the king could not dissuade him. None in the Hall, except the Babylonian Prince, but judged the knights challenge to proceed of mere madness.  
Don Eleno as he had done nothing, demanded the battle to be strait, first requiring the prisoners to be brought in field. Who were strait advertised thereof. The Greek was nothing astonished thereat, well knowing the fury of his uncle. The prisoners surely guarded, were conducted to a Scaffold of purpose made for such matters. They gréeted one another as their affection did deserve, with joy, hoping for the good success of the battle. For Pollidolpho knowing the Challenger, doubted not of victory. On foot did the Dacian enter the field without any weapon: which the Prince of Persia carried, and his page led his horse to give it. The Combat ended, with a leap did the furious gallant take the Lists, compassing it about with such quick paces, as he were mounted. Then stood he still, gladly gazing how the City did unpeople itself to see the Combat.  
The Ladies with their beauties made that place a Paradise, although Venus & Layssa feared, seeing the Prince in so doubtful a fight. Without any such thought expected he the coming of his enemies, whose entrance, the next capitulateth.   

CHAP. VI The battle that past between the two Princes, with the end thereof. The Prisoners liberties, and what happened.  
IF at any time (sweet Ladies, wonders of this times beauty) my Prince and Don Eleno, had need of your favours, this it is, for I without shall be forced abruptly here to stop, and he thinking that it fails him, no marvel if he fear his adversary, that at one end of the place appeared, as well furnished with arms & weapons, as with pride, mounted on a mighty white Courser, his Armour was green, with many hearts all encompassed with flames of fire. In midst of his shield were two Hearts enchained, with this word.  
Both are due to her variety,  
For modest grace, and chiefest beauty.  
Of gallant constitution seemed the Pagan, with the great companies that accompanied him, every one assured of his conquest, seeing him with such advantage: beside, reputing him of forces invincible. They equalled the sun between them, an ancient martial custom in wars of that quality. Oh Don Eleno, who might see thee on foot without weapons, fearless await the coming of thy valiant adversary, who at the fearful trumpets sound pricked forth, making the earth with hoarse noise echo the trampling of his horses hooves. The Dacian stayed for him courageously, only fearing the encounter in the closing of the horse. Leaping aside, he made him lose the blow, and with such fury pass forth his carrier, that his shield had almost leapt out of the lists. Twice was he so served, but the third he changed of purpose, for brandishing with mighty force the lance with such celereity, he cast it at him, that his was not sufficient to make him shun the receiving it upon his amorous breast, it could not pierce it, for that only Love had done, so making him a little stagger back, while it rebounded back. Oh admirable act, in the end worthy the Dacian Lord: for with more fury taketh not the towering Eagle her flight after her prey, then doth Don Eleno follow the retorted lance, he took it in the air, and turned merely upon the Pagan, at him he let it fly with more horror, than had it been sent through a cannon's mouth. Against his strength there is no defence, for it plainly pierced his shield, & wounding him very dangerously below the navel, with a mighty fall he made him measure his length on the earth, with such astonishment of the beholders, that they knew not what means to find to praise the knight's valour. The lance was broken in two, which did not a little content the Prince, he took it up quicker than the ravenous kite snatcheth the tender chick. By this came Lindauro, with his shield and sword in hand, thinking quickly to end the fight, and with a flourish would have struck the Dacian, entering with a thrust: As sure of his arms as of his strength was the Prince, so standing fast on his feet, suffered him to enter. Great was the blow he received, but he with the truncheon in hand gave him one, that set all former ones in obliviou, for bringing the lances piece right over his head upon the helm, discharged it so puissantly, that voiding infinite blood through his nostrils and mouth, he tumbled him headlong to the ground. Suddenly he arose, for it was no time of delays.  
But he was met wit an other, that almost had again field him. Nevertheless would not the Pagan doubt the victory, and drawing strength from weakness, let fly at the top of the Dacians helm, it turned his an one side more than he wished. Enter he would with another, but ere he could sway his sword about, the Prince made him feel the forcible weight of his truncheon, therewith making his shield and head meet, that it stopped the passage of his breath. Close he would with him, but the Pagan bravely set his sword in the middle, with the point against him, and thrust him away so strongly, that he was forced back three or four steps.  
He followed him with a blow on the helm, which put the Dacian to some pain, but all redound to the Pagans harm, for Don Eleno being now extremely incensed, avoided another, and closed with him, casting his strong arm about his neck. A while continued they wrestling, but in the end, with a groan the Dacian laid him on the ground upon his back. On his breast he set his knees, saying. Dead art thou Prince Lindauro, unless thou dost unsay what thou hast said, commanding the prisoners to be brought hither and set at liberty, with their horses, arms, and weapons, since against all law and justice they have been so long detained. All is ended with my vanquishment (replied the afflicted Saracin.)  
The Dacian entreated the judges to come and take the Pagans confession, who sent unto the King to liberate the knights, with all that was theirs, since his fortune was so adverse against him. Their horses and arms being brought in presence of them all, they were armed. Where with great kindness the Persian offered his love to the Greek, for as great amity grew between them, as ever was among their fathers.  
Claridiano received him, saying. I was assured (gallant Prince) I could nor I should not receive any good without your presence: my good will deserves it, for in all things it shall procure your content. Whereto he answered. Great is that I receive (heroic Prince) to have found the time wherein I might enjoy your sight, and far greater should I have conceived, had I taken part of the troubles I was told you endured: although where this happy Prince hath employed his power, my little endeavour were but needless.  
I acknowledge myself so bound unto you all (replied Claridiano) that I will protest no more, save that you in desire, and this Prince in doing, have accomplished the duty of your valours, and fulfilled my expectation.  
But let us now go to take our leaves of this perverse malicious people, on whom I vow ere I depart from Esclavonia, to be fully revenged at my pleasure, and their damage. All four that were the flower of arms, went together to the window, where the king was, to whom that every one might hear, the suspicious knight, spoke thus. I am very sorry (king of Esclavonia) in thy Court to have seen so many tumultuous brawls, where had you observed and unwronged kept every one's justice, according to the fame that for so just a king doth so blazon you, to be throughout the spacious territories of the worlds wide regions, they had not proceeded so far forth, although these knights and myself may truly say, that if we displeased thee, thou haste at pleasure satisfied thyself, to the dear cost of our quiet, putting in danger the lives of such knights, a thing that the very hearing doth offend, how much the more having taken so unjust revenge, guiding thyself thereto by a blind self voluntary passion, and not by royal, wise, and discreet reason.  
And lest thou shouldest hereafter pretend ignorance, know thou haste injuried such Princes, that will straightly call thee to strict account of all these wrongs. Of whence, or what you be, and of your pride and insolency, we need not care to know, (said the king) for it manifestly appears in your last committed faults. And that you may see how little I respect your haughty menaces, I command you on pain of death, to departed my kingdom within these four days, if not, I'll seek, & till the death pursue you with an host of armed men. Before this had we determined our departure (replied Pollidolpho) abhorring longer to abide in Court, whose king so little doth respect true justice: and so do I hope to see the time thou shalt thyself confess the evil committed, to be ruled by the opinion of self passionate men, whom fortune hath rewarded according to their malicious intent. Plainly understood Lindaura it was meant by him, but urgent necessity was between them, that he durst not speak.  
They departed from the king, leaving him ready to burst with rage, and Lindaura in the same manner, that had no other comfort, but to think his estate sufficient to war against the whole world. He required since all matters were quieted, to be married to the Princess Venus.  
The Father could not deny it, being pleased therewith, nor the Lady might not recall her word given to obey him, although she deferred the day, alleging she and her damsels were working certain things against that time, which forced her to defer it eight or ten days, for seeing they were assured of her grant, that term was little. Her father rejoiced, and much more the dishonoured Lover of Liconia, to see that for all his troubles and unhappy chances, he obtained his Venus. Who altogether of a contrary desire, sought means how to advertise the Prince, and to confer with them of her resolution. The Greek well knew it, who being without the City, taking some rest at the fountain, although it was some to be at liberty, and in the company of such friends as those, on whom for their valours a greater matter than that, and difficulter might be reposed: He expressed his determination thus.  
So great is my soul's joy (mighty Princes of Dacia and Babylon) that my tongue cannot express it, in that it pleased the revolving Mistress of unconstant time, to order your come hither, for otherwise what the Prince of Grecia promised, without your hands had been impossible for him to achieve. Before the king imprisoned me, my help was craved by his daughter, against the force her father would commit, to match her with a husband she disliked, to whom I offered my person, so did this warlike Prince of Croatia, loving (as her beauty doth deserve no less) the fair Venus, and of himself he made her sole Empress. I well perceieud it, presuming more than my strength could bear, promising to set her in his hands, in despite of the Syconian Sophy, to whom she is assured by the king, because he is so great a Lord. In prison talking with her, and telling her my opinion, she altogether yielded thereto, and that she would in nothing contradict me. So must I now go to her presence, and resolve her of my intent, that according to our time limited, we may use the most convenientest remedy. I do therefore entreat your advise and counsel in these weighty affairs: The Dacian thus replied. I know none here (excellent Prince, that will deny his aid unto so mighty a Lord, as the Prince of Croatia, and therefore there is no reason, but we all hazard our lives to work his content, and moreover it behooves me to take from hence the beauteous Laissa, for having bought her liberty at so bear a rate, I will not leave her in a strangers power: for I intend to entreat the Prince of Persia to carry her unto his Empire, till I otherwise do purpose: and the company of so brave a Lady will be grievous to none. And since we be here together, I I am of opinion that the Prince of Greece go to night to know the Lady's resolution, and against when they will be ready to departed thence. Whereto the Croatian Lord thus said.  
I cannot most excellent Warriors, and sovereign Princes, protest, nor bind myself to more than I have already, only this, I can within two days, have here twelve thousand men that expect my coming to the sea, that till I command them the contrary will not departed from thence. And within the City I have fifty knights and two Giants to help us if we shall need their aid. And we may safely unseen go to our lodging in the City, and there order our business.  
Every one was glad that the Prince was so well provided, and lest longer delay should prove more harmful, they strait mounted, and took their way back towards the City. They entered unto their lodging unseen of any, through the obscurity of the night. From thence they sent two of the chiefest of the fifty knights, to post to the Sea side, to command the Captains and Leaders of the soldiers, that every Commander should lead the most and best of their charge unto the Valley of the Lovers, and that the rest should be in vigilant readiness, guarding the Galleys. The knights obeyed most willingly, as they that entirely loved their Prince, being also of his subjects so affected.  
The Greek Prince leaving them, only with his sword and the strong privy Coat that Venus gave him, he left his Chamber, taking the next way to the Garden, which was the place he thought to meet the Lady at, which indeed was so. For accompanied with Fausta and Laissa, whom she had made partaker of her Loves, and also how she esteemed the Persian Prince, were both determined to go with them, being assured what great Princes they were, if that means might debar that unjust marriage. Claridiano coming to the door, gave his signal, which Fausta knowing, opened, saying.  
In faith sir knight, I now see you cannot but be happy in your own Loves, being so careful of another's. The Prince thereto answered.  
This is my unhappiness, to see by experience another's faith well guerdoned, and live myself in the greatest despair that ever knight in the world did. It may be (answered said she) you are only evil conditioned: for by all your other parts, you deserve the wide world's admiration. That is not so much (said the gallant Prince) as my misfortune is great that guides it this way. Well leave we this (replied she) and go we where my Lady and the fair Laissa do expect you: and have patience, for this is but the touchstone, whereon the Lady by true proof makes trial of the Lover.  
By this came the two Ladies fairer than Apollo, and Venus stepping forth, said. I did so greatly fear, despairing knight, that seeing yourself at liberty, you would easily forget whom you left in prison, that I thought best to get company to seek you abroad, if you overlong should tarry, and with my own hands take my revenge, which should not be little rigorous. Had I been happy divine Ladies (said the Prince) as to have known this resolution, to feel the pleasure that wounds given by those your sacred hands do yield, I would not have so soon returned. But yet knowing the falling into any forgetfulness in you service, how little soever, was pain intolerable, enforced me so soon to hasten my coming, to be resolved of your will, the which those Princes nor myself will in nothing contradict. I love so truly to keep my word inviolate heroic Prince of Grecia (answered the Lady) that I know not what more to say: saving this, I do altogether submit my fortunes to your order, which during life I will observe, assured that such a knight will respect my poor immaculated honour, the which although in some respect I do repugn, yet to frustrate my intended marriage, I will venture my person in any peril you shall undergo: therefore in this, there is no more to do but plot it as you think best, for that is our determination. And since the Gods have in all things made you so absolute, do not grieve if I take this Lady in my company: For she will in no case remain any longer in my Father's Court, whilst I absent myself.  
In charge had I that you last spoke of (said the Prince) from my Lord and Uncle the Prince of Dacia: but seeing she is pleased with what we all desired, let us no longer procrastinate our journey, making all things ready for the same two days hence, in which time you may send to our lodging those things you shall be best pleased to take with you. Be it as you have said (sovereign Prince, said Venus) for having in our defence the mighty Alphebos son, it is nothing we have undertaken, were it far harder.  
Occasion they had to demand for the Persian, which being not omitted, things passed so plainly, that the Greek rejoiced to see his friend so well employed. Any ones good would glad him, though he himself did want it. He took his leave of the Ladies with a thousand embracements, that had not Archisilora governed his soul, and the reason of his thoughts, it were no wonder had he stood a while ponderating the content thereof: but he with one ordinary courtesy in lieu of so many favours, left them, of themselves jealous with fear of that they should do, although their comfort was, that such Princes had undertook their safety.  
They strait began to order the preparations for their journey from Xantho. While the valorous Greek returned to the Princes, that received him with exceeding joy, relating to them all their conference, with the Lady's resolution, which not a little contented them, and moreover said. And I have new commends to the haughty Bransiniano, Prince of Persia, for the Ladies demanded for none but him, and I am glad in my heart to know how matters pass, and in faith I had not thought the Dacian Lord to be so wary. Valiant Greek (said Don Eleno) know, that in matters of Love, the greatest concealment is greatest fire, for nothing contents Cupid more, then to see how by the sole motion of the eyes two agree, concluding more with the sight, than others in an age, in present daily continual discourses. For nothing better blazoneth the soul's news, than the eyes, and if they so could, no marvel they be agreed, and greater matters can Love so effect.  
So with great content did they all expect the second day, to take the Ladies from the Palace: for the men they sent for, were by that come to the place appointed.  
The next day Fausta sent three or four of the Lady's chests, and the one and the others, awaited the darkness of the approaching night, wherein befell them what the next following Chapter doth recite.   

CHAP. VII. How the Princes conveyed the Ladies out of the Palace. The battle they had about them with the King's Knights: and what more happened.  
Already had the starry canabey of heaven darkened the earth with cloudy black obscurity, when the four mighty valiant warriors clad all in rich and strong habiliments of war, accompanied with the two fierce giants and twenty knights, (leaving the rest to guard the Lady's Coffers, and to advertise the army of their approach) arrived closely at the Garden gate, and making the accustomed sign, Fausta with more courage opened, where they found the Ladies so amazed with fear, that they had no power to utter one word.  
It was no time for ceremonies, so Claridiano taking Venus in his arms, carried her out of the garden, and delivering her to the Prince of Croatia, said. Receive this gift (sir knight) for by doing it, I can-cel the bonds of my engaged word. He could not answer, being overcloied with joy, nor yet could she do otherwise. He returned like the wind for Laissa, (that more courage had then the other) having endured many perils, and gave her to the Prince of Persia, whose gladness did exceed the greatest in the world.  
He forgot not Palisandro, for almost he plainly conceived what happened in the Tower, so delivering Fausta unto him, spoke. Since thou canst so well dissemble, thou deservest to have her in keeping. The Damsel was witty and so replied. I would not (sir knight) that after you have played your own parts, you should thus ill reward me.  
The want of power to care for so many (kind Fausta) hath forced me to commit you to his guarding, that knows what torments do possess me. Thereupon Don Elenos Dwarf stepped in with these words. I faith Prince of Grecia, if you use to pay all your Squires in this manner, it will make me rebel against Don Eleno my Lord, for he living secure, remembers not us that be so destitute of favours. The Dacian made answer. The not knowing thy mind (friend Lesbio) was cause I procured not thy remedy, but now I know thy will, I will ere long satisfy thy content. With many jests at length they arrived at their army, where after they rested, the Greek would discharge his soul of part of her cares, wedding the beauteous Venus to the gallant Pollidolpho, with such content of all the host, that feared they not to be heard, had expressed it with applauding shouts. Here me thinks (said Eleno) all the world flies from farther toil, which being so, I will also do it, by leaving the protection of this sovereign Lady, so bestowing her to the Persian, he said. To you (sir Knight) must I deliver her, being destitute of strength to guard her.  
So well did Venus plead, knowing how the Persian was affected, that forthwith they were both espoused, to their admirable joy. Content in pleasant chat, were these Princes, and also being night, it was not much if they enjoyed any secret joys, I know not, but to increase their pleasure, the senseless trees were silent.  
While they were in their jollity, no little hurleburley had overturned the King and Princes quiet supposed rest of troubles in the Palace, for going to supper, the Ladies were missed: they entered their chamber, where they found nothing but a letter, whose tenor was. That Venus was departed, wedded to Pollidolpho Prince of Croatia, a Knight that for merits of person and state, deserved no less than Venus: and Laissa under the Protect of Bransiniano's Prince of Persia, backed and defended by the Prince of Grecia and Tribizound, together with the valiant Lord of Dacia. The King was not a little daunted hearing those names, seeing how hard it was for him to be revenged, they being such mighty Princes: nevertheless he commanded forty thousand knights to be presently armed, and being divided in two squadrons, to follow in fearch of them, for imagining they were alone, thought that meeting them, they would be easily fetched back.  
One of the Squadrons the furious Lindauro did lead with the King's cousin. The Saracin was politic, and so supposing they might be in the lovers Wood, which made him with swift steps enter into the same, although the Princes had ta'en some other way.  
All that night he lost himself, until the next morning that he met with some shepherds, of whom he demanded for them: they gave him good tokens to have seen them: telling him also that they were marched towards the sea. He turned about in all haste with his men in their pursuit, not demanding whether they had any company or no: but so fast hied the Princes, that ere they were overtaken, Phoebus was past the midst of his diurnal course, and were so near the sea, that from the Galleys they might behold them.  
The Princes (seeing they were but few more in number than they) judged it cowardice, not to let them know, how they were incensed against them. So agreed to stay, committed the ladies to 100 knights, to convey them to their ships, and divided their battle into two parts. The ore was commanded by Don Eleno and Bransiniano: and the other, guided the mighty Greek, with the new Bridegroom, who was one of the skilfullest in the world, to dispose and order a battle.  
In Figure of a half Moon, they awaighted their enemies, that seeing them not to be so many as themselves, courageously prepared to assail them, hoping the rest would also arrive to them: and with more ease to get the conquest, they approached with the noise of innumerable instruments, and in good order: for the King's Cousin was a politic Knight. Worthy of seeing was their encountering: for though it was of no puissant hosts, yet so great was the horror, as if one hundred thousand men had met. Four did despairing Lindauro overthrow before he broke his Lance: for the grief to see his Lady in an others power, did encourage him: he drew forth his sword, and with it, in company of Tarsides (so was the king's cousin named) began to perform wonders, only they maintaining the heat of the fight. But that way the four Heroic Princes entered, no tongue can express their deeds, for they seemed no other than the reapers in the month of july among the ripened corn: for their remorseless blows found no resist, that shields, helms, armour, heads, bodies, and sometimes horses and all were sundered in the midst.  
No less damage did the Giants in their furious passage with their battle-axe.  
Admirable was the battle at this time, to hear the piteous claimours of the wounded, the clashing of armour and weapons, with the resounding noise of cutting strokes, and the running about the field of horses masterless. So ill did not the Esclavonians behave themselves, but they killed being killed, not so much procuring the defence of their own lives, as their enemy's deaths. Three hours endured the fight, without vantage known on either side: for the inhabitants would rather die, then suffer their Princess violently by strangers to be carried away: but in the end of that term, the Princes being heated in colour, the field had few to resist their mortal wounds, for every blow was the death of a knight.  
By this Pollidolpho and Lindauro met, either by their devices knew the other. Glad was the Croatian of the encounter, greatly desiring it, so said. Now is the time proud Prince, to show your deeds in fields, to be otherwise then words in the Palace. Without admitting any answer, he did let fly at his Helm, on the outward side, all the Plumes and the crooked top he struck away, making him shamefully bend in the saddle, and with another stroke laid him senseless along his horse. There he had slain him, had not Tarsides arrived, staying him with a furious thrust, and giving Lindauro time to recover himself both at once, not respecting the laws of knighthood, charged the Croatian. But the venturous Lover bravely withstood them, giving and receiving mighty blows.  
Altogether apparently did the Esclavonians lose the field. For wanting most of their best Leaders, most pitiful was the bloody massacre made of them. Not far off was their remedy, for at the suns declining from the fourth hour, on the top of an hillock, there appeared the King's standard, with the other twenty thousand men. Who seeing the battle in those terms, pricked forth in all haste, to succour their friends that were utterly discomfited. Great hurt did they upon the Crotians, which also feared some unlucky hap, so fierce was their assault.  
Four more magnanimous knights than the Princes, were never seen: for though their enemies be triple three to one, their valour doth supply their want of multitude. Order was given none should harm or touch the king for Venus' sake. Who weighing the doubtfulness of the fight, commanded the half of four thousand men that kept the Galleys, should stand to aid their Lords. It was to no small effect. For arming themselves, presently they obeyed, taking their way towards the hottest of the fight. As they went, two knights of admirable disposition, and in rich arms met them, and learning the cause of that conflict, determined to aid the Lady. Good was their help, being the two strong Princes, Don Argante of Phenicia, and Thorisiano, that together wandered to seek their adventures. They entered crying Croatia, when they began to drive back. But these new succours was a mean to regain their lost advantage, and set their adversaries hope in danger. Sundered were Tarsides and Lindauro, and unhappily did Tarsides fall into Don Elenos hands, whom he had incensed.  
This occasion would not he lose, for with both hands he discharged Brutus' sword upon his shield, it yields no defence, for in two it was parted, and with the swords point did wound him dangerously on his head. He closed with him, and for Venus' sake would not kill him. But casting his strong arms about him, spurred his Tyrio, and snatched him from his saddle, that being altogether breathless, he delivered him to four knights, to convey him to the Princess Venus. The battle was cruelly renewed, and dead bodies lamentably falling on both sides: but the Princes being invincible, where ere they went, were assured of the victory. Clearly had they obtained it, if Phoebus hastening his Western downfall, had not hid his light in Thetis watery lap, leaving almost half of the Esclavonians dead, with four thousand Croatians, besides the wounded.  
On either side retreat was sounded, for fear of the night's approach. Pollidelpho being in war most politic, commanded many fires to be lighted, that his enemies might think they would stay till the morrow: which he nothing less minded, judging it mere folly, because the king had his succours so near, and they theirs so far off, marched away to the sea side, causing all manner of lights in the Galleys to be fired, that the soldiers might embark themselves. They did so, leaving never a man on land, except the two Princes, whom another adventure expected.  
The next morrow, the Pagans thinking their enemies had stayed, scarce had Aurora welcomed Apollo the East, when they began in ranks and files orderly to draw their men in field. No grief is comparable to that which the king and Lindauro conceived, being advertised by their spies what happened. So soon as it was known they followed towards the shore, thinking to overtake them: but being thither come, were assured of their departure, which made the King & Prince most woefully, with bitter laments to exclaim: and more, missing their kinsman Tarsides, they wanted present means to follow them, which forced their return to Xantho: where they gave order to prepare all the shipping in the land. The like did the Sophi, knowing how his son was mocked. They gathered 600. sails, which was the most famous Fleet that ever came on those seas. They wasted 200. thousand men, and 400. Giants, of the fiercest in the world: with so great and puissant armies, he thought he might make war upon the greatest Potentate thereof. Lindauro was appointed General by sea and land: that had he not been troubled with fantastic vain imaginary boasts, he had discharged the office with immortal Fame. Some time was spent in the preparation and assembling of this mighty army, in which season, the Princes with their sails spread in the wind, fearless of any thing, with their Ladies joying in their company, within eight days landed at Geva, the chiefest haven in all Croatia. The inhabitants received the Princes with such joy and costly triumphs, that to shun prolixity, we overpast day by day, the rumour still increased of Lindauros coming: For which cause, as also for the ladies that were with child, they entreated the princes to abide with them till they were in peace, or with assurance of agreement with Venus' father: who knowing the imprisonment of her Cousin Tarfides, procured his liberty, with such entertainment as his merits deserved. It did so win him, as also seeing how well beflowed his Cousin was, that he determined to pacify the proclaimed wars. Thereupon he writ to the king of Esclavonia, alleging what honour and greater disadvantage he incurred to persecute his daughter, since she had chosen for her husband, the Prince Pollidolpho, rather than any other. And if she gave her promise of marriage to Lindauro, it was only to please his honour, and not to satisfy her own will, having before made it obedient to an others command. This letter a thousand times made him so recant his intent, as he was about so often to have shown it the Prince, yet he could not so close keep it, but he discerned it. Who dissembling, seemed to take no notice of it, so that for all that, they set their fortunes on the seas, purposing to land in Croatia. They had done it, and it had been one of the cruelest war in the world, if the wise Nabato (considering his Don Eleno was there detained thereby) had not succoured them, by crossing the huge King with storms and tempests, that the third part of the Fleet was overwhelmed in the devouring waters. They returned to Esclavonia, where taking counsel, Lindauro knowing that the Sultan of Nyquea, with the greatest part of Asia and Africa, did assemble themselves together against Grecia, resolved to join with them, that with so many multitudes, his revenge might be the more easier. As it was determined, he put it in execution, and repairing his tempest beaten ships, directed his voyage towards S. George's promontory, where it was reported all the general forces met. Thus far (admired Ladies) proceeded the sole spoil of the joys it procured, that by so many means sought the easy passage for his revenge, upon the robbers of his contents: who without remembrance of what he (poor soul) endured, past the time in sports and revels, till the season of the Lady's delivery was come, both who brought forth two Girls, whose beauties being in their prime, darkened Apollo's clearest light. The children were borne with several tokens: for the Persians had on their breasts loves bow and quiver of arrows. Venus' daughter had also in the breast, a hand whiter than the snow, that twixt the fingers held a heart as red as blood. Much ado there was to name them, in the end it was remitted to Claridiana, who therein showed the sharpness of his wit, for considering they had got the mothers by force of arms, named the Babylonian Helena: he did not so amiss, because for her sake there were no less cruelwars, than Troy sustained about the first, as it is in the fourth part of this History. Venus' girl was called Polyxena, in remembrance of her whose love so dearly Greek Archilles did abide. Every one praised the witty naming of the Ladies by the Prince, who expressed his joy and love in the performance of a famous iouster. He craved leave of the Ladies to departed, thinking he wronged his own, to live so long in those pleasures, which he obtained with great difficulty. The day before the two Princes would departed, Pollidolpho thus spoke. It is so manifest (most mighty Prince) that many & infinite recountlesse favours and benefits I have at your hands received, which soaring to so high prized valour, my life is insufficient to satisfy the lest degree of gratitude: but nevertheless that you may know the zeal of my thankful mind, and how I account my sole felicity in your dear amity, I am determined to become a Christian, for all my land will have it so: by which act I do eternally propagate my love, with such excellent warlike Princes: and therefore I will receive the Baptism at your hands, together with my wife and daughter. The Prince's conceived exceeding joy with Pollidelphos deed: whereto Don Eleno thus replied.  
We cannot but credibly believe (most noble Prince) so illustrious a deed hath long since been prophesied, with more divine inspirations, then human determination: to corroborate our friendship, there was no cause to intimate this: for to observe the laws of honourable true Love, the least ground with so costly experience, were enough. Happy be this amity, and confirmed with such bounds of faith, we cannot fear that the alterations of time revolving chances, may any way prevail against us.  
I know not whether I may call most happy, you or your subjects, for if they have Pollidelpho for their Lord, you have a people that amongst neighbours of most worth, had got the honour of themselves by so glorious a deed: the which may he that hath begun it, bless, and to eternal posterities so propagate as we desire. Whereupon they embraced, as they had but then seen one another, doing the like by the beauteous Venus, confirming her daughter's name. And Laissa seeing her husband a Christian, would not longer continue Pagan. For eight days during the feasts of those solemnities, the Princes delayed their going, in the end whereof, the Greek Prince, with only his Squire Pallisandro, departed from his friends. His company required the Dacian, but Lesbio his Dwarf would not: saying it behoved Claridiano to go alone: where forrowing the waved bosom of Neptune's region, we leave them a while, to relate what else happened in Constantinople.   

CHAP. VIII. The preparations the mighty Emperor Trebatio made, knowing all Asia and Africa did rise in arms against him. And how Archysibora departed from the Court.  
SO many and so certain were she news that every day were brought of the Nyquean Sultan's mighty preparations, and of the aids & helps he demanded of his bordering neighbour kings, that although it were not given out, 'gainst whom such hostile assemblies of Pagan Infidels were pressed, yet would not the careful Christian Emperor seem careless of his necessary affairs: but rather commanded Oristides the new Thessalian king, with all expedition to unite, & with new supplies to strengthen all his scattered troops, and with them to march away along the nearest of their enemies neighbouring holds, that their diligence might stay their haste. He obeyed, accompanied with his Sarmatia, and executed his office so well, that in few days he reparted on three frontiers, to the number of two thousand men. And leaving the Empire sure that way, he withdrew himself with forty thousand men towards Nyquea, to see if the enemy would assault any place on the sudden. He performed it all with such happy speed, that his good diligence was to no small effect, for that is it which overcomes the most labourous toil. The Trojans quick expedition was no means to make the Emperor be idle, but rather to show his great care. For of Macedonians and Greecians, he gathered a well furnished army, wherewith he accounted himself secure. Of the last, nor of those that seemed remiss in these broils, was Torismundo none, but being advertised of the affairs, he shipped himself towards Spain, where he provided all the galleys of Naples and Sicily, with those of Portugal, whose direction Don Siluerio commanded them to obey. On the seas was not a more discréeter knight seen, better to order and reprehend a battle. With five hundredth sails he began to plough the Western Ocean, which contained the powers of Spain, France, and Portugal, whereof sixty hundred thousand were Spaniards, with whose valour he doubted not to confront the proudest enemy. Of Portugals 40. thousand: whose skill on the sea, excelled the skilfullest. The French king with consent of the Prince Claverindo, sent under the Spanish Ensigns 90. thousand well armed knights. Of all these men, he had made his Lieutenant General, his valiant son Corselio. About the end of April with all these powers, the furious Torismundo found himself on the utmost confines of his land, in sight of Lavering, where overviewing all his Fleet, from the hatches of his Galley, all in sanguine armour raising his Beaver, and on a bloody Lance, he thus spoke.  
I shall not need most valiant knights to explicate in words, what great rewards a well fought battle doth yield: nor what never dying honour is thereby obtained, where rather a man must be found dead, holding his sword within his hand, then for fear to have it said, he did force it. But since we wade within such danger of our lives, I will no more remember save the ancient blood from whence we do descend: since it was never said of a French man, that killing he did fly. I will not particularise the deeds of Spain, where Fame these waste seas can memorise more than what is reported, that her ordinance in military discipline is able to attempt the hardiest enterprise. The which since we have sufficient, conjoined with such strength, let us employ it all, for with so mighty forces, it were an easy matter to ruinated the whole world. The which, that it may be done with more courage, I do denounce this war with fire and sword, to be executed, yet entreating, that none to show himself valiant, become barbarously cruel: for nothing so much as it doth blemish the deserved reputation of a soldier. Where ending, the Admiral discharged three pieces of ordinance, as a sign that every one should be ready against the morning's Sun uprise, with outspread sails, to recommend their Fortunes to the favours of the winds and waves. A great encouragement to all the men were the generals animating words, whereat to express how fervently they were addicted to the wars, they all unsheathed their swords, proclaiming the obedient faith due to their Prince, who with a merry gale of wind set towards Grecia, advertising the Emperor of his coming, who was not a little glad of his aid.  
He entered the wide Haven of Constaninople, discharging all his gross Artillery, with such noise, that heaven and earth seemed to meet, all the Castles answered them with the like.  
There was none but came to the shore, to see the entrance of the Spanish Fleet. No less gallant on land then a good soldier on Sea, would he show himself, landing all the Spaniards in good order, bravely attired, and every one with a green scarf a cross his breast, to distinguish them from the Frenchmen, that wore theirs read, and the Portugals russet. In this manner he landed 50000. Spaniards, 30. thousand Portugals, and fifty thousand French, leaving the rest to guard and defend his Galleys. It exceedingly gladded the Emperor to see so well furnished men, and chief with father and son, whom having never before seen, in his very soul he rejoiced to see their excellent disposition. By land was already arrived his dear Grisanda, whose company was most welcome to the Greek Ladies. The immeasurable joy cannot be expressed, which the Spaniards conceived seeing the Dames of Greece, and as in war no amorous thoughts were ever troublesome to a soldier, so the dread command of angry Mars, could not hinder them from the procurement of some sweet sure rest, in whose name they might employ the valour of their persons.  
This pleasing life did little last, for the Emperor having true notice that his friends were coming to succour him, resolved to go & seek his enemies, & know 'gainst whom such innumerable powers were assembled. On the other side, the absence of his dear sons much troubled him, for he had only with him his son Rosuler, that at Oliuas entreaties did stay. Also the furious Brandafidel was with him, on whose strength he reposed much hope.  
The Greek Alphebo had no need of advertisement, for the generality of the wars was come unto his ears, and so with the greatest power he could unite, withdrew himself to Tribizound, accompanied with Braminoro and Tefereo: who most grieved at the Prince's absence, was the beauteous Archisilora, attributing the lack of claridiano's presence to her own strangeness: her sorrow was easily discerned by her outward semblance. No less was Rosamondes to see her so: knowing the cause, it so tormented her, that for fear it should be perceived, she resolved to absent herself, for commanding the Governors of her kingdom, should with all convenient speed, conduct the greatest power of well provided men they could select ●ut of her Kingdom to Constantinople, and there to rest under the emperors government.  
They accomplished their queens beheft (for then she, no Princess was more with love respected of subjects) sending when time served, fifty thousand of well armed men. The day before her departure, she took her leave of Rosamond with no few tears, for never between two Ladies was such sympathy of true amity. Very importunately she offered her company, but as any good society would but aggravate the queens evil, she would not admit it: saying she might not leave Greece and the Emperor in such necessity. Then her arms (being the best the world contained) she presented her. Them she also refused, for Lirgandeo had provided her with such as were requisite for safeguard of her person: which were of the same colour as Claridianos, saving that the sable bars were filled with flames of fire: on her shield was a gallant devise, for out of a field full of odoriferous flowers, a Lady seemed to go in search of a knight, after whom she in great haste ascended up a craggy rock, from whence she looked after the content she lost: and the Motto between them, thus.  
Little hope of joys abide,  
That leave known joys, for joys untried.  
Alone would the warlike warrior needs go, thinking her grief a sufficient company: all the Court sorrowed for her absence: but Lirgandeo assuring them of her safety, their discontent was lessened, mounted on a lusty Courser, she crossed the woods of Greecia, thinking on her Lord, calling herself a thousand times most cruel, for that in being so, she had lost him: and by the loss, obtained so great torments. She shipped herself in a bark bound for Alexandria, resolute to travel the whole world, in penance of her folly. One night among the rest, while the warriors slept, she walked (as she used) on the hatches, with her laments, to make the watery dwellers partakers of her griefs: at such time that another bark sailed by hers, from whence might be heard some intermingled groans with sighs. She could not know what it was, so swift it went away. After it with all possible speed, with oars and sails, she commanded hers should follow: it was done with such diligence, till she overtook the bark, wherein she saw a Knight complain of Love and Fortune thus.  
Ay me unfortunate Prince (said the knight) is it possible there should be no evil, but the extremest sower it contains, my perplexed soul should feel? Why should I hope for any good, when with mine eyes I see it fly from me? There is no inconvenience but haunts me, except death, with whom I cannot be acquainted. Oh Greekish Prince, how happily mayest thou call thyself happy, by being in thy infancy brought up with the sovereign of my life, and hearts direction, since that was an occasion for the obtaining of those rights solely due to to me. Oh Liriano, (thy name being sufficient to assuage the grief that me torments) who might by sacrificing my life into thy hands, assure thee in faith thy Lover deserve not comparison with me. To you, to you, Sea-Gods do I complain: Oh you I pray, that seeing her celestial habitation is in your vast confused watery kingdom, a little entreat her for the unhappy Bembo. Oh Love, how rigorously hast thou in all things shown thy cruelty against me? Wherein have I offended thee? when disobeyed I thy commands? when violated I thy laws? abolished thy rights? or when did my painful thoughts harbour or conceive the least imagination against thy honour or deity? If this be so, and not unknown to thee, why dost thou wound him with tyranny, that is orborne with weakness, and thy disastrous chances? Oh how many any (pardon me fair Ladies) be hereafter confident on your perfections, your cruelty being as great as your beauties are incomparable, if you reward him that can love, like him that only lives to hate?  
No more could the Lady hear, for the bark was guided by Lupertio, but what she heard was enough to increase her pain, and raise some doubt, that the named Prince was he whom she loved. Oh general plague (said the grieved Lady) none canst thou forgive, showing thy care in most tormenting them, that are most careless of thee.  
A shower of infinite tears reigned the Queen down her pearled théekes, proceeding from the extremity of love: having so done, seeing herself comfortless, and not knowing whom to ask for, having no notice of the Greeks devise, she began to give vent unto her swelling thoughts, singing these verses.  

My heart will burst except it be discharged,  
Of his huge load, that doth oppress it so:  
Streams stopped, o'erflow the banks, if not enlarged,  
And fire suppressed, doth much more fiercer grow.  
Great woes ripped up, but half the woe remains:  
But pains concealed, doth aggravate the pains.   

Sing then my soul the story of my loss,  
Form in sweet words the anguish of my mind:  
Yet do not: singing ill becomes a cross,  
Rather sigh out, how hard loves yoke I find.  
Love is a sickness, singing a joy:  
And pleasure is no pack horse for annoy.   

And must I then, knowing Love a disease,  
That fills our souls with strange calamities:  
Spite of my heart enforced myself to please,  
And in mine own arms hug my miseries?  
And seeing still my state wax worse and worse,  
Must I of force embrace and kiss my curse.   

I must, I must, Cupid hath sworn I must,  
And 'tis in vain and bootless to resist:  
Then be not (Love) oh be not too unjust,  
I yield me to thy rule, rule how thou list.  
For my reclaimed rebellion shall bring forth,  
A triple duty to thy glorious worth.   

Oh Love, sweet Love, oh high and heavenly Love,  
The Court of pleasure, Paradise of rest:  
Without whose circuit all things bitter prove,  
Within whose centure every wretch is blest.  
Oh grant me pardon sacred deity,  
I do recant my former heresy.   

And thou the gearest Idol of my thought,  
Whom love I did, and do, and always will:  
Oh pardon what my coy disdain hath wrought,  
My coy disdain, the author of this ill.  
And for the pride that I have show'd before:  
(By Love I swear) I'll love thee ten times more.   

Hast thou shed tears? those tears will I repay,  
Ten tears for one, a hundredth tears for ten.  
Hath my proud rigour hunted thee astray?  
I'll lose my life, or bring thee back again.  
Each sigh I'll quittance with a thousand groans,  
And each complaint with a whole age of moans.   

And when I find thee, as I find the will,  
Or lose myself in seeking what I love:  
Then will I try with all true humble skill,  
Thy pity on my great offence to move.  
Till when, my griefs are more than tongue can tell,  
My days are nights, and every place is hell.   
With a heavy sigh she ended: but as if singing had but in part discharged her sorrows, she began with saying to prosecute them as followeth. Ay me! Queen of Lyra, (said the Lady) that having no cause to complain, do suffer thus deservedly, a just pay for such deserts. Of whom else might I hope to be loved, being by the Greek Prince adored? On the earth, of whom couldst thou expect any good, if not from thy Greek? Oh woe is me, that the trust of my small consideration should bring me to this pass, that I must make the winds witness of my pains: and that to my unblemished honour's cost, I must hue and wander by sea and land, demanding for him archysilora's love: when I mought have lived with joy, with pleasure, and in quiet, by giving him a little sign of that happiness, I myself received by being his: but seeing it is thus brought about, love I will, and patiently embrace this just imposed toil.  
Here was her languishment renewed, seeing a knight come directly towards her ship, lying a long the hatches of another, exclaiming against Cupid's ordinances. Who ever suffered (said he) his heart to follow and seek his own dishonour? What law allows the soul to disclose that, whose secrecy preserveth no less than life? Accidents be these only incident in love, for he as the King of extremes enforceth me, not regarding my fame, to procure another's consent. Oh (most valiant Knight) who shall believe thou shouldest with me violate thy word?  
Thou know'st I love thee, & also the I follow thee, but I know to aggravate my woe, thou fliest my presence? What is become of those sweet words at our parting thou spakest? where is the faith wherwithon my hands thou vowedst loyalty, protesting, if any pleasure thou shouldest have, it would proceed only from thinking thou art mine? Thou dost ill guerdon the bounty wherewith I laid open unto thee the secrets of my soul, making myself tributary unknown to whom. I did it when thou iudgedst it new life, new joy, new ease, and new content: But now altogether forgetful, thou fliest from me, that live to love thee.  
So overwhelmed in her own thoughts was the beauteous Floralizar, who departing from the furious Brauorant, followed the search of the Tinacrian, whom she so entirely affected, that she regarded not whether any heard her. By the complaints did Archisilora know her to be a Lady, and pitying her, caused her Bark to be grappled with the other, and said. No marvel (heroic Lady) that since the land hath already been acquainted with your constancy, you now participate your faith unto these inhospitable waters. Be of good courage, for you have company in your woes: and such as will neglect his own to remedy yours. At the voice rose floralinda's daughter, and replied.  
Who are you (Sir Knight) that so kindly do commiserate my pain, which is the greatest that ever was enclosed in any human breast? I am he, (said Archisilora) who with my soul (valiant Lady) will procure your quiet: and therefore pray you, accept such service as my Bark will yield: for it may be, the recital of your griefs to me, and I mine to you, will be a mitigation of some sorrow. I'll not forego the enjoying of so good company as that you offer me (Sir knight) said Floraliza, entreating I may know who you be that already knows my griefs? The Ladies gallant behaviour had attracted the Lirian Matrons affection, who replied. In more than this do I desire to satisfy you sovereign Lady, but first step into my ship, where I will do it at full. To know your name (answered Floraliza) a harder enterprise would I attempt. So leapt she into the queens Bark, saying. Advantage hath my Bark got (sir knight) with my absence, to which being alone, the winds and waters may now be more favourable, then when I was in it, and since we have this opportunity, dear sir, defer not my desire. With never a word the haughty Queen unlaced her Helm, resting more fair than was Latona's son, when only for love he kept Admetus' sheep. Floraliza's was also of, whose beauty was equalled by few, and that want was with valour supplied.  
Let it not grieve you Sovereign Lady said the Queen, that I know she cause of your moans, for mine are no less: which I suffer seeking for him, that aught to die loving, but since I am the cause thereof, it is reason I endure the extremity of grief: and seeing love hath equalled us therein, I'll no longer keep from you who I am. So she related unto her every thing she could, not naming Claridiano. Why now (said alicandro's niece) I do account my pain a pleasure, being pitied by you, and have assured hope we shall quickly find redress: whereto the Queen answered.  
Gladly would I know who he is to labour your content. Any certain thing I know not (replied she) more than that I am an others: for a brother of mine called Celindo, and myself, were brought up without knowledge of father, though since we received the order of arms, we have met with certain tokens to be children unto the prince Meridian.  
exceeding joy conceived the Queen, of the Lady's company, resolving to enjoy it so long as she would. They vowed firm amity, which towards the peace was of no small effect: for this Lady was of highest estimation among the Pagans, in the Grecian wars. By little and little being tender of years, and knowing that the manifesting of their loves, was some ease to their borthering cares, either understood who was the Lover to the other. Upon which occasion Floraliza thus said.  
So that our fortune doth permit (most Peerless Princess) the Greek Princes to triumph over our hearts. Seeing the heavens will have it so (excellent Lady answered the Queen) and so have favoured them from their births, we cannot but acknowledge their Sovereignty, specially the Tynacrian Prince, knowing how great his gains are, thus being loved. To which Floraliza made answer.  
Stay my good Queen: how well (by knowing yourself to be loved) do you judge a strangers distress? who would not live contented in midst of the greatest evil, were we certain of that assurance? What pain would not then be a pleasure? or what could make me a stranger to myself, only seeking the company of my woes? But I fear illustrious Lady, that as the heavens have made them absolute happy, so some one of them will place his felicity in scorning her shall most entirely love him: And if any there be that will most truly verify my doubt, it will be the son of that most cruel Garrofilea: For what could proceed from so cruel a mother, but so cruel a son, to reject the constantest faith that any age ere knew. Let it not so grieve you beauteous Floraliza (said the Queen) that the knight of the Branch do wander in absence of your presence, so we distrust not of his love: And you do not well to condemn him of ingratitude: for i'll pawn my word unto you, vowing by my high thoughts, to procure with all my power your chiefest joy: for it were injustice, another should call him hers, you being alone in the world that deserve him.  
This liberal promise was some comfort to Floraliza, as thinking that in her company she should not meet with any inconvenience, although she persuaded herself she should not hope ever to be by him beloved. In pleasant discourses of Love and Arms, they passed away, their else over tedious voyage, until the fifteen day of their Navigation, that they arrived at the fruitful land of Tinacria, where what adventures there befell them, another Chapter shall relate.   

CHAP. IX. The adventures that happened unto the two Ladies in Tynacria, with certain Giants that had by stealth imprisoned the Queen Garrofilia, and her beauteous daughter Rosaluyra.  
GLad in their glittering rich habiliments of war, landed the two warlike Ladies, bringing on shore the queens Horse: which she offered to Floraliza, that would not take it, but would go a foot, which made Archifilora do the like, with majestic pace leading her Courser by the bridle. Along a broad and beaten path traveled both these Princes of beauty, and Bellona's in valour.  
They had not gone scarce a mile, when they espied three knights of gallant disposition: and well mounted, coming the same way: a cross the same lane issued an other: than whom the Ladies had not seen many of more liberal and braver carriage: his device and arms were described at the Triumphs in Constantinople, for this was Don Clarisel of Assyria, Floraliza's great Lover. Well did the Lady know him, and although the faith he showed her, could no whit withdraw her affection from the Tynacrian: Nevertheless, it pleased her to give him that content that Ladies use to yield in pleasant chat, reserving the best for their souls beloved. She told the Queen, how she knew that Knight, but it behoved her to be then concealed, for that she told her.  
At length they all met, and none of them but incessantly gazed on both the Ladies. None of the three Knights were so courteous as the Assyrian Prince, and so the one said. It were some case (Sir knights) for one to ride while the other went on foot, and so by turns to use your horse. Because we will not trouble ourselves (answered Floraliza) to mount and dismount so often, we have chosen thus to travel together, until by some good chance we get an other horse. This country doth yield so few (said he) Sir knight, that I fear it will be very hard to get one. Notwithstanding, I had rather have my hopes (replied the lady) them thy uncivil answer: whereto the knight said. What, coming on foot and with such little show of valour, dare you make comparatives with my words? which were you better mounted than I am, I would not suffer, especially coming as you do.  
There is no fault (said the Lady) but may be found in a discourteous knight, and therefore, having committed this, there is no doubt but you have all the rest: yet if you will try your much strength with mine, I am content to do it: conditionally, that he which shall forego his saddle, lose his horse and armour. Had you a horse (said the knight) I would not much care to do it, were it but to disburden you of your armed load: which now in hot weather will be surely troublesome.  
Let not that grieve you (said she) for my companion will lend me his horse, and be content to lose him, if you overthrow me. Ear he could answer, with such grace she leapt into the saddle, that the Queen and Prince were amazed, and brandishing her Lance, she went towards the knight, saying.  
Go too, discourteous knight, now is the time to try whether of the two can better keep his armour. Forced through the challenge he had made, and the presence of his companions, he turned about his great horse, which was the last he did in all his life. For meeting, although the Lady received a strong encounter, hers was such, that making three parts of the lance appear at his back, at one instant, he lost horse, armour, and life.  
No longer stayed the other two, seeing their friend slain, but ran against the Lady, no more stirring her, then if they had run against a rock. The Queen was abashed, seeing how basely the Knights behaved themselves, so drawing forth her good sword, at two steps she was where Floraliza stood, with Camillas in her hand. The Queen entered sidelong with her sword aloft, which valiantly discharging on the Knight's helm, she struck him from his horse, and with another, on the ground ended his life: which done, quickly mounted his horse, confounding the Assyrian with admiration, who turning about, saw the Lady beat the other Knight unto the earth, with a most piteous wound: whose pain, ere it left him, left him lifeless. The Queen went to her, and laughing said. In faith (sir Knight) we have now horses for Pages, had we brought any, if they were on foot, & wanting armour, here we want no choice.  
A greater punishment than this (said Floraliza) deserved their discourtesy: and turning to the Assyrian, thus spoke. Have you any need (sir Knight) of our helps, for since we have got horses, a little haste else calls us away. By the voice he seemed to know her, whose figure he had impressed in his heart, and so in some amazement did reply. Not at this time (sir Knight) more than coming in time, that I might enjoy the sight of your high deed, I would not lose the conceived content of gazing on them, especially being achieved by whom deserves the honour of every victory. So fearing the Prince had known, or that by longer conversation she might be discovered, she took leave of him, and with the Queen entered into a thicket adjoining, to rest, not of the battle toil, but of the seas weariness. They alighted, letting their horses feed on the grass, where she recounted who Don Clarisell was, and how sincerely he published himself to be her Lover, and how unknown to either, they were brought up in one wood. She did recite the adventures with such passion, that the Queen verily he should certainly marry her.  
In many divers matters did the two Lady's chat away the afternoon, leaving until the next day their approach unto the great and famous City of Tynacria, where so many adventures happened unto the mighty Emperor Trebatio. It greatly pleased Floraliza to tread on the soil of her dear knight, heartily beseeching the immortal Gods, to grant her no other end of her desires then her faith deserved, wherewith she sought him: for she never imagined any thing, but what increased love, to love him, and with unfeigned constancy harbouring his affairs in the midst or her heart, transferring them from thence unto the soul, to give them there a place more quiet, free from the world's perturbations, and fortunes assaulting storms: and where she might better contemplate her happiness, being the Tynacrians Masters.  
They scruple of that little they had from the Bark brought, with more content in being there pursuing their Lovers, than were they in Constantinople, feeding on the daintiest cates of the Emperor's Court. Having done, they a while discoursed of their knights, thinking that time lost wherein they did not remember them. The hour of rest being come, the tender Ladies made their blanckets of their beds, the earth, and for pillows took their Helms, and not without some tears to see themselves in that manner, and uncertain whether their toil would avail them. She that slept least, not for loving most, but fearing her affection's zeal would not be accepted, was the Emperor alicandro's niece, that about midnight unclasping the book of her secret thoughts, she found it so full of amorous arguments, grounded on dear experience, that it caused in her a new grief: which tormenting her with some extraordinary passion, to give it passage she sat her under a lofty Pine, where supposing the Queen of Lyra was not awake, she began with more melodious harmony (than his, that descended into the vaults of hell, among those black inhabitants, to fetch his dear wife) to sing these verses.  

Once I thought, but falsely thought  
Cupid all delight had brought,  
And that Love had been a treasure,  
And a Palace full of pleasure,  
burr alas! too soon I prove,  
Nothing is so sour as love.  
That for sorrow my Muse sings:  
love's a be, and Bees have stings.   

When I thought I had obtained  
That dear solace, which if gained  
Should have caused all joy to spring,  
(Viewed) I found it no such thing:  
But in steed of sweet desires,  
Found a Rose hemmed in with briars.  
That for sorrow my Muse sings:  
love's a be, and Bees have stings.   

Wont pleasant life adieu,  
Love hath changed thee for a new:  
New indeed, and sour I prove it,  
Yet I cannot choose but love it.  
And as if it were delight,  
I pursue it day and night.  
That with sorrow my Muse sings:  
I love Bees, though Bees have stings.   
With many Millions of sighs she ended. The sweet melody awaked the fair Archisilora, joying to see her so firm a Lover. Long did they not continue thus, by reason that from the farthest side of the thicket, they heard the trampling of many horses, and now & then, the cries of outraged Ladies, by violence oppressed. A little thing was enough to move them, being naturally bold, together they rose & bridled their horses, and swifter than the wind they spurred after the noise. In such haste went they, that though they quickly got into the high way, yet could they not know the cause. They durst not sunder themselves for fear of losing, but rather referring their affairs to Fortune's dispose, they followed along that way which was most beaten with horses hooves: Two miles they galloped not finding what they desired, till with the morning's suns uprise, in a large fair plain they descried some 40. knights, and 3. Giants, that guarded a wagon drawn with 4. horses. Assured to have found what they sought, they let go their Coursers reigns, with more fierceness than Mars himself. Never was such boldness seen, for the knights were mighty, and for the enterprise chosen, and the Giants every one an Hercules. Nevertheless, the royal Ladies nothing doubting the fearful assault, with their swords in hand, entered among those knights, as the hungry Lion enters a heard of harmless sheep, to seek his pray.  
Against the Lady's strength, their adversaries steel doubled shields nor fine tempored armour was no defence: for their valour and puissance was infinite, and the desire they had to free the prisoners, made them with more force flourish their swords among them. Ere they were aware, eight of their fellows were slain, and the rest struck the Ladies with many encounters: but their Armour was such, as they suffered no impression. So the fury of their Lances being past, Oh Archysilora, who would not admire thee, seeing thee raised on thy stirrups, the shield at thy back, and with thy sword betwixt both thy hands, range among those knights, giving no blow, but was deadly, or deadly wounding? At her heels followed the Sythian Matron, that no less than she made herself feared with Camillas blade, whose edge even to the bone pierced their armour. It seemed they both strived to exceed the other in deeds, almost impossible in human sight.  
Abashed were the Giants together with a big Knight that was Lord of them all, to see how two knights hazarded their prize, with so much labour obtained: to be rid of them two Giants, with crows of Iron made towards them, crying to their knights: Away, away, you cowards, for shame blush to see two Knights thus used. Never were they by them obeyed more willingly than then: for with the word they withheld their swords, accounting that command their lives, which fight with the two, they adventured on the dice. The two mighty Giants on their stirrups stretched themselves, and shaking their arms, threw the crows more fiercer than were they hurried from a Cannon's mouth. Carfully did the two Ladies (seeing how it concerned them) expectit, that spurring their horses, gave way unto the javelins, and joining so near their Masters, that ere they drew their Comitors, they made them feel the weight of their arms. So eager was Meridian's daughters assault, that she lost the strength of her blow, yet was it such, that falling on his Beaver it dazzled his sight, and wounded him at large on the front, from whence the blood issuing, and dropping in his eyes, blinded him, to the Ladies great advantage. Forward she passed, swifter than lightning, and with the same she turned: at such time that the Giant did so, as furious as a baited Bull, with his Falchion raised against her, that he wounded him, and at once on either discharged the fury of their weapons.  
A thousand stars saw the Lady within her rich helm, but the Giants was filled with blood, for the thin edged sword on the head, wounded him dangerously. This while was not the Queen idle, for in her assault she had bravely done he part: and being longer wound, and more used to the war than Floraliza, with Mars his strength, she laid him on the side of his helm, disarming all that part, and on the head gave him a mighty wound, cutting away a piece of the skull, and the blade descending down the shoulder, with like fury, as the roaring waters run through a locked river, it struck away all his Vanbrace, and with it cut all the laces off his shield, and made him shake like a lofty Pine: struck with an other blast, she gave her horse the reigns, and quickly turned him before the Giant, settled himself, she let fly at his wounded arm.  
This blow assured her the victory, for lighting on the unarmed place, she threw it to the ground, and made him roar horribly: for the wound was mortal. Without payment scaped not the Queen, for ere his soul departed, despairing of life, so mighty a blow he discharhed on her head, that she fell upon her horse, voiding much blood from her mouth: with such strength was it executed, that finding no other stay, it drew the Giant after it, who like a Tower overturned with a whirl wind, he fell down.  
Long in accompanying him was not the other, for Floraliza envying what the Queen had done, so vehemently pursued her Combat, that she tumbled the Giant at her horses feet, with so many deadly wounds, that he strait gave his soul unto the devil, that long since had expected it.  
No longer stay made the other Giant and knight, but with their Coursers fastest running, pricked against the Ladies, to surprise them unawares. Dangerous were not the encounters, by reason of their enchanted armour, though they were extreme grievous. Between the four, they began one of the bravest battles on the earth. But at the instant it was disordered: for the knights not respecting their honours, altogether stepped to aid their masters: in no little danger were the ladies, seeing themselves assaulted so many ways: but fetching strength and courage from their amorous breasts, they enacted deeds impossible to Mars his sight.  
He that most vexed them was the great Knight, being one of the stoutest in all Paganism. With him the fair Queen made her battle, thinking by that means the victory was surest. She left the beauteous Floraliza with the Giant, and some twenty Knights that were left, but so wounded, that she quickly brought them to twelve. They were all busied in those bloody affairs, when the brave Assyrian like a thunderbolt galloped along that field towards them: who also had heard the Lady's outcries in the Chariot, and hasting to help them, had lost himself in the wood, notwithstanding he came in good time, amazed to see so many dead.  
He knew the Knights, and they him: he entered with his lance above hand: a better blow was not executed in that battle, for approaching the place where his Ladle fought, strongly brandishing, he threw it at the Giant, which penetrating all his stéeles places, it appeared at his back, the pike bloody with his heart's gore. This blow was to no small purpose, for it moved a sudden strange alteration in the Lady's breast, judging so well of him that gave it, that over joyed with that content, she said to herself. Oh most heroic Knight, would I might satisfy thy desires, and not wrong the Tynacririan. There stayed not the galliant Don Clarisell, for drawing forth Mylos furious sword, he gave no blow, but overthrew an enemy dead: close by them went the Lady, exceeding glad to see him. On horseback was the Prince, one of the greatest Knights in the world, and so richly armed, no heart could desire more. For all this, ceased not the warlike Lirian Matron to pursue the great Knight, entering, and retiring with such agility, as Mars himself, were he there, could wish no more.  
In his country was the Pagan accounted the valiantest known, wherefore he bravely held out in fight. Of all helps needed he, combating with the Queen, both in beauty, and in valour, who flourishing her weapon, stepped in with one foot forward, and lay open, that the Pagan might enter: who being exceeding skilful, perceived her intent, and making her lose two blows, gave her two thrusts one after another, which forced her to bow backwards on her horse: as she raised herself, with all possible speed he struck her on her rich helm, but reached her only with the point, wherefore the blow was not to much purpose, though it grieved her much.  
No Hyrcanian Tiger was now comparable to the Queen in fury, to see herself so used, she flourished her sword, and let it fall so mightily on his head, that it field him along the saddle, sorely wounded. She trusted to the strength of her Horse, so giving him the spurs, ran against her enemy, encountering him so strongly with his breast, that she overthrew them both to the ground.  
But the Pagan knowing his disgrace, leapt aside, and though weak and with many wounds, settled himself to make his defence against the Queen, that nimbler than an Eagle, leapt from her horse after her prey. Deadly wounded was the Pagan, and no marvel then, if with every blow she make him kiss the earth with his hands and knees.  
Already were the Lovers (though different in affection) rid of all their enemies, and were set to gaze on the battle, when from the top of the mountain descended a Knight with more bravery than the sun. Farefull it was to hear the trampling noise of his neighing Courser, wheresoever he trod. He arrived at the chair, extremely abashed to see all his haste had not availed him. Oh cowardly Prince (said he) is it possible thou hast shown thyself slow in thy Lady's service? thou dost wrongfully call thyself hers, being the least in aiding her in her greatest distress. There was he interrupted, hearing a horrible blow: which was thus, The Queen noting they all looked on her, judged it weakness longer to continue, and therefore strongly stretching herself on her left foot, with both hands laid on the Pagans broken helm such a blow, that dividing his head down to the neck, at one instant she ended both his loves and life. And as if she had done nothing, mounted into her seat, and turned about to thank the Assyrian for his good help: whereto he answered. All, and more than this is due to your valour, (most excellent Knight) for where yours and this Knights is, little avails mine. So thence they went to speak unto the Ladies in the Chariot, which were Garrofilea, and her beauteous daughter Rosaluyra, with two other damsels their attendants, whose beauty made our two Ladies somewhat envy them. Never did any Knight affect with more reason, Lindoriano Prince of Nyquea, who was new come. Well did mother and daughter know him, and none like him had the Princess esteemed. From the heavens may you receive your deserved recompense (most mighty knights) for the succour you lent me and my daughter (said the cruel Garrofilea:) although considering the duty by yourselves due to the valour of your own persons, in discharging it, so the immortal powers long since guerdoned it, by imparting so largely their matchless gifts with you, making you absolute in all complete virtues: yet that our joy may be , and we know to whom we rest bound, we shall account it an exceeding favour, and remain debtors together with the former for the same, if you will relate your names and states unto us. To which, Archisilora replied. In more than this (sovereign Queen) doth this Knight and myself desire to fulfil your will. This Knight, pointing at Floraliza, is called the Knight of Hope: and myself, of the burning flames of Love: we came together, and therefore know we not him, to whom we are all so much indebted. Yet more than this must you do at our entreaties, (said the beauteous Rosaluira) and for my sake unlace your helms, unless you will cancel the bonds of my indebted love. There is none but trembles at that word (divine Lady) and fears it will be so (answered the Qeéene) and therefore for so much as it toucheth me, I will lose no favour I may thereby reap. Who shall dare do otherwise (said Floraliza) exceeding joyful thereat, thinking she spoke with her Tynacrian. At once they put off their helms, and being somewhat heated by the battle, there is no beauty comparable to the two Ladies. Oh Prince of Assyria, oh thou hast a heart of steel to resist this blow! Many days it was since he saw her, yet presently he acknowledged her to be the sovereign of his soul. Have patience magnanimous Lover, for 'gainst loves accidents there is no better shield. So like was the Qu. of Lyra unto the Prince Polliphebo, that Garrofileo assuredly thought she had her son before her, she leapt out of the Chariot with an extazie of joy, and embracing the Queen, said.  
Oh my dear son Polliphebo, may it be thou shouldest thus long be absent, and not advertise me of thy adventures and happy successes, & cruelty more than inhuman it hath been, and were you not son to such a father, I could not believe it of any, but knowing whose you be, I am assured of your natural cruelty, which makes me resemble your tyrannous father. The Queen did strait perceive Garrosileas deceit, and by her words confirmed the report blazoned of her rigours, she told her of it, & who she was, which not a little admired the beholders, and also when they knew her companion to be a Lady, a new the Queen embraced them, saying.  
Pardon (sovereign Lady) my bold entreaty, for judging you to be the Prince Polliphebo my son, hath made me commit this fault. There hath been none, unless intended (mighty Queen) replied Archisilora, but rather it is a favour exéeding mercy, which I thereby received.  
By this the faithful Earl of Modica was arrived with above three hundredth Knights, and the Ladies unwilling to be stayed, craved leave to departed. You will not I am sure so wrong us (said the Queen) as to leave us absent of your company. We can do no otherwise (imperious Dame) said Floraliza, for the good success of the adventure this Lady and I have in hand, consisteth in brief expedition. If it be so (heroic Ladies) and lest you should lose that happy success, I am content to lose the great content I should reap by your conversation: whereupon they kindly embraced and departed, leaving in Tynacria eternal memory of their beauty and bravery. And whilst Lindariano made his excuse, craving pardon for his stay: the beauteous Floraliza thus spoke unto Don Clarisell. Pardon me (sir Knight) for not doing this before, but let our lawful and unavoided business be our sufficient excuse, although it needs not be given to him, that may be assured all happy content is wished him. Words were these that gave new life unto the Lover, nourishing it many years with these words.  
The Prince taking her by the hand, said. You have done me mighty wrong (most sacred Lady) to entreat him with these words, that only desires to live perpetually at your obedience. The Lady drew away her hands, not suffering him to kiss them, but casting her arms about his neck, said. He that hath showed his to be so worthy (heroic Knight) is injuried to have mine, but his rather are to be requested for that sacrifice. And enquiring for Forsiana and Don Argante of Phenicia (for they all loved one another like brothers) she took her leave of him, refusing his companle, which with his soul he offered, alleging how it behoved them to go alone. And as one that with admiration gazeth on the splendour of the heavenly Sun, with his radiant beams illuminating the earth, and on a sudden sees it dashed with misty vapours of a black cloud, wherewith his light being obscured, blinds and bereaves the poor beholders of his contented sight.  
Even so thought the Princely Lover he was left, though glad to see how gently his gentle Lady entreated him. Towards the sea did the Ladies take their journey, where they found two Barks without any to guide them. It was admirable, for so soon as the Queen entered in the one to help the Lady in, so swift flies not the arrow loosed from a steel bow, as of itself it launched into the deep. In a minute it vanished out of sight, leaving fair Floraliza so extreme sorry, that she was about to fling herself into the sea, considering what she had lost. What content canst thou hereafter hope for poor Lady (said the afflicted Dame) being rob of that good the heavens had imparted thee with her company? What mayest thou account happy, having lost her sweet comfortable conversation? Oh fortune, wouldst thou but weigh how little strength I have left me by thy inconstant changes, thou wouldst among so many infortunate haps, mingle one feigned pleasure.  
She shipped her horse in the other bark, and weighing the anchors that held it to the shore, lying along upon the hatches of the same, she committed his government to Neptune's mercy. Yet it was not so ill looked too, but the envious Lupercio had taken charge of it, who by all possible means assembled all the mightiest knights in the Haven of Nyquea, to transport them thence unto the marvelous Tower: for he had already known, there should be a knight would win Theseus' armour, and his battell-axe, wherewith the enchantment should be ended: and knowing he was an enemy procured to get and bring these so valiant Knights on his side, and therefore did he guide floraliza's Bark, who on the fourth day of her Navigation, met with her brother Don Cellindo, with whom she fought a most cruel combat, which for brevity is not recited: but being known for her brother, he entered into her Bark, and were directed towards Nyquea, meeting continually all their voyage on the seas, infinite Galleys and ships, as well Christians as Pagans: where being arrived, we must leave them a while, to remember Rosabell, whom we have long wronged with forgetfulness.   

CHAP. X. What happened to the most valiant Rosobell, departed from Grecia in the company of a Lady.  
WIth some grief of mind (fair Ladies) left we Rosabell, to see himself absent from the sweet company of his dear Oristoldo, and armourlesse with the Damsel was he shipped in the doubtful Seas, yet knew not whither: some comfort was it to him, seeing he had not all his arms, to have the sword that erst belonged to Hector. He inquired of the Damsel the cause why with such speed she hasted his departure. For none other (sir knight) replied the Damsel, but to see one of the fairest Ladies in the greatest danger in the world, and knowing that only in your presence rests her remedy: and in the least delay, the greatest death that ever befell to any, is sure on her. For know (most valiant Knight) that in the kingdom of Tentoria, there is a Lady no less beautiful, then adorned with all good qualities and graces of the mind. She was and is beloved of all her subjects, because they know that chastity & beauty holds in her one equal degree of sovereignty. Through the only fame of her perfections, with her the mighty Dardario fell in love, who was said to be the valiantest Giant in the universe. He with a puissant host came unto her land, though peaceably: with him he brought a son unknighted, for his years did not allow it, who became far mightier than his father. He sent his Ambassadors to our Queen, to let her know of his coming and demand, which was to marry her.  
A thousand times was my Lady about to stay herself, to avoid a match so unequal. She called a Council of her Nobility: who resolved to withstand him with fierce war, by reason there were many valiant knights that would lose their lives to defend their Queen and country's safety: for although they saw the Giant come with signs of peace, yet doubttng the worst, had gathered a great army of men, because they would not be suddenly surprised.  
There were many voices among them, that the Queen should marry him, being Lord of all the Isles in the Adriatic Sea. But in the end, most part agreed, they should rather die with honour in field, then for fear suffer such a marriage. Eight days respite had the Giants given them for their answer. In which time the beauteous Syrinda commending her affairs unto the Gods, and her wit, she resolved on the greatest deed that ever Lady did imagine. She acquainted it with her Captains and Council of war, which are the shiefest Lords in her land: and this it was. That she would seem to consent to his desire, and that she durst undertake in the night of her wedding day, to give the giants head unto her Knights, who should be in readiness to issue upon their enemies, whose vanquishment would be easy, being with the Feasts careless and unarmed. Almost all the Council approved my Lady's devise, and praying the immortal Gods to give her good success therein, they advertised the Giants thereof, that with extreme joy was almost besides himself. All his subjects laying by their arms, with gallant shows welcomed her answer. Two days after, the proud Dardaria entered the City with his son Abstrusio, whom he begot on a strong Gyantesse, and so issued like his Parents. He only carried his big Cemitor at his side, accompanied with two Knights richly adorned, and himself in robes of inestimable valour, with a triple crown on his head, worth a kingdom, with Princely bravery was he entertained by the dissembling Syrinda, whom the fierce pagan embraced with the greatest content in the world, thinking himself in heaven, seeing the Lady's exceeding beauty: who with a thousand feigned love toys inveigled the disarmed Giant.  
The desired night being come, which was eternal to the Pagan, and supper ended, he was most sumptuously brought to his bed: where the Lady feigning some modest shame to be seen naked, so long deferred her going to bed, that the force of the many meats and wine, forced him into a sound sleep. He never more awaked: for the Lady seeing her advantage, drew forth a sharp two edged Dagger, which she thrice stabbed in his brutish breast, piercing his heart therewith. Now that the courageous Dame was assured of his death, she bravely cut off his head, and presently gave it to those knights she had appointed to expect it.  
They took it, extremely overjoyed, and conveyed the Queen and Ladies out of the Palace, for fear of some danger that might happen the next day. With great desire they expected his coming, whereon scarce had the Sun sent forth his messengers of morn, when an alarm was sounded through all the City: they of the Camp without, thinking it was in honour of the Nuptials, replied with all their military Instruments. In an instant were above fifty thousand men Armed, whereof five thousand assaulted the Palace, leaving none alive that with Dardario came, except his haughty son, that hearing the noise, ran forth with one of the bed posts, making such pitiful slaughter that none durst assault him. He got some weapons of those that were slain, wherewith his deeds are incredible. But being alone, and by so many thousands assaulted, his death was certain: which the sturdy youth perceiving, got unto the Camp: where being come, he found it so disordered and so many sail, and the rest so affrighted, that he could scant meet with any that might tell him the cause of so great evil: in the end he came to know it with such great grief, as he was about to kill himself: his father's Armour he put on, and the first he met guirded him his sword. The fury that possessed the youth when he saw his father's head parched on a pole upon the highest Turret of the City, cannot most (valiant Knight) be credited. He went forth into the field roaring like a Bull, and killing without mercy: but his force was to small purpose, for all his Army was discomfited, and the queens subjects behaved themselves so well, that ere the day was half spent, they had put the better three parts of their foes to the sword, and gave chase to the rest even to their ships, wherein sore wounded, as many as could embark themselves, and among them the mighty Abstrutio, purposing with new powers to return, and with fire and sword to destroy our kingdom. In his he arrived, where his intent he presently put in execution, not without grief, to see that of forty thousand men his father had carried with him, he had returned back again scarce five thousand. The Paganne spoils left all our land exceeding rich: and our Queen with the greatest Honour that ever Lady obtained. Notwithstanding the great triumphs made for so happy victory, yet would they not live careless of their safety: but every day mustered & trained their soldiers, and strengthening all their garrisons with the best men in the land, because they would not lose what was obtained for want of diissipline, being assured the son would come to revenge the father's death: whose body was cast out for food unto the birds and beasts. But now (Magnanimous Knight) returning to our purpose, the murdered Giant had in his own Palace my Ladies lively counterfeit, which he had caused to be made, when he first became enamoured of her.  
This being left at home, came to his sons hands, which daily frequenting, and the help of his tender years, with continual consideration of the content, which to be beloved of so fair a Lady would yield: kindled such a fire in his breast, that he could in nothing delight save in contemplation of syrinda's beauty, whose love so oppressed him, as it bereft him of his best senses, and diminished his health. He resolved to pass unto Tentoria, and colourably procure alone, what his father with so many men had missed. He was not of shape and feature nothing so deformed as his Sire, but certainly far stronger, and higher he is a handful then any knight, being no Giant. Arrived in my Lady's country, he brought in his company eight Knights, his near Allies, of no less force than himself. Disguised he entered the City, where the Queen kept her Court, and knowing that she used to walk abroad unto a near adjoining Grove, he watched his time, and having opportunity one day, followed her, took her, and setting her before him on his horse, carried her away, not doing nor offering her any discourtesy, though she had most cruelly slain his father: he told her his desire, desiring her not to refuse his marriage, since all the world knew how much it honoured her to do it. Whereto she answered.  
If like a good Knight (most cruel Abstrusio) thou hadst procured my good will, it had not been much I had yielded to thy request: but since thou hast employed thy force upon a poor weak Lady, I will rather be my own murderer, than consent to any such thing.  
Why then (said the lover) that thou mayest know what assured confidence you may repose on my strength, and arm, I'll give thee leave for six months space to send and seek about for that Knight, whose Fame above all others shall memorise his deeds, to be the greatest with whom hand to hand I'll Combat about thee: proving, that none but I merits thy beauty: so that if I prove Conqueror, thou take me for thy husband, with willing and blithe mind: but if I be conquered, I vow and protest by all I may, to remit and release any action I may pretend of marriage towards thee: for which cause, and that the battle may be effected, I'll set thee free with all pleasure to enjoy thy liberty, and this because thou shalt not doubt I will deny the Combat, or violate my word. Somewhat pacified was the imprisoned Lady hearing the Pagans offer, and considering that was her best, agreed thereto. Which gladded the Pagans very soul, supposing himself sure of the Lady, thinking none able to take her by that means from him. While these things past, news were thither brought of the never dying honour ye had obtained in the jousts of Grecia, ending them to your immortal glory. Whereupon my Lady thought to none safer than to you, this dangerous adventure could be recommended, because the strong Abstrusio is the valiantest in all those parts. She put me in trust with this business, being from a child brought up in her service, which I promised to perform with all diligence: and either lose my life, or let you know the necessity wherein I left her, trusting that a knight so absolute in all excellencies, would be pitiful, lending his help bound by laws of knighthood, to a distressed Lady: and let not my report of the giants strength, put any doubt in your unconquered breast: for having on your part the strong shield of justice, it will be sufficient to give you the eternal honour of so glorious a Conquest.  
This is the cause brave knight, that hath from such remoted countries brought me to seek you, and consider whether my journey be not lawful, and your liberal offer just. It is (kind damsel) and am much amazed at the Giants tyranny (said the Prince) to force the Lady against her will to marry him: and would I were already with him, that (Lady) you might know your queens remedy if it lie in me, is made void for want of power, and not will to hazard my person in her service: and my life I will adventure in any danger, to right the wrong and violence she doth sustain. Why then brave knight (said she) I may go merry, seeing you so willingly affected to my business, and may the Gods give you the due merits your bounteous care deserveth: and seeing that for my Lady you must undertake such a fight, she sends you Armour and Horse convenient to cope with such an adversary. She drew forth the Armour which were indeed as she said, and excepting his of Hector, he never saw better: of colour they were purple, crossed with sanguine bars, garnished with some flowers of rich glistering stones, which more adorned them.  
The Greek put them on, which fitted him as they were made by his measure. On his shield was bravely figured the pictures of justice and Chastity embracing, and over their heads this motto.  
Upon each other both relies,  
(Twins) kill one, the other dies.  
This device greatly pleased the Prince, because it jumped with his business. With these arms was gallant Rosabel armed in, neither in these affairs nor the thought of his hoped battle, forgetting his Lyriana, whose absence not a little grieved him, for none had lost such happiness in love as he, with so many sighs obtained, and so his sorrow was tolerable, losing so great good, for none will grieve at a loss, if the cause be not respected. Not meeting any adventure worthy memory, he arrived at the isle whereof Abstrusio was King. Straight leapt he on shore, mounting a mighty roan courser, which the needy Dame had sent him: than which he never bestridde a better, his Bollador, excepted. The Damozel masked herself, for fear of being known by any of those that brought her away, when the Princess was stolen. They approached very near the City, where the fierce king made his abode. It was admirable, chief the Castle, where the King kept his court, which seemed inexpugnable, both by nature and situation of the place. About it, were many pleasant Groves and Meads, where the Pagan often recreated himself with Syrinda who by continual conversing with the Pagan, his valour and gallant disposition, had exceedingly mollified her obduracy. And Lyrgandeo saith she, had repent herself for sending her damozel to seek any by force to plead her cause, being to her honour to take him for her husband, that was able to protect both kingdoms, that united was one of the mightiest in the world. The like imagination had stirred the Greeks thoughts, thinking that he being so far different from the condition of others, his marriage much advanced her. On this considered he, along the Crystal Current of a bubbling stream, when the mighty Abstrusio walked on the other side, armed in strong plates of steel, bore headed without helm, to take the coolness of the fresh air: only two knights without armour, attended him, bearing his: who was horsed on a furious Courser, his sight greatly pleased the Prince, for his damozel knowing him, told it Rosabel.  
At his right hand road the beauteous Syrinda, on a milk-white Palfrey: she was gallantly attired, for being well entreated by the king, she by doing the like, did more allure him, and he lost nothing by using her in that manner, forcing her to do nothing against her will, which to his sovereign gentleness, may be attributed. Coming more near the Lady, knew the Armour and horse which she sent unto the Knight should combat for her. She was so amazed (though his disposition greatly contented her) that the stout Pagan noted it, and demanding the cause, half trembling told it.  
Oh jupiter (said the Pagan) how dost thou show thy immortal power to honour me, sending him at such time hither, whom I hearty expected? Now shall you see fair Lady, whether my valour deserve not some estimation in thy breast, being so near to see it by experience. So daunted was the Lady, that she could not answer, revolving many things in her thoughts against herself: for if she should stay the battle from proceeding, it were to dishonour the knight, having sent for him so far, only to that: and if she suffered it, than she imagined she wronged her Lover towards the Pagan: so that she was set between two contraries, altogether opposed against her happiness, and which she might judge the least to lay hands on, she knew not. The hasty coming of the Greek suffered her not to choose, for crossing the river over a bridge, brandishing his Lance, went towards the Lovers that greatly admired his comely grace.  
The Pagan nothing doubting his hoped victory, expected him in a fair plain, joining to a thicket of tall Pines, called the Grove of Adventures, for never any entered it, but found something to try the valour of his person. The Greek being come to him raised his Beaver, and saluted him thus. God save the valiant Abstrusio: I think I shall not need to relate the cause of my coming, because it was with thy consent: nevertheless, if without battle thou wilt remit the suit thou dost pretend, thou shalt obtain a sure unconstant friend: for I doubt not, but thou knowest how it stains a Noble mind, by force to force a Ladies will, for it neither belongeth to a good knight nor a true Lover: yet for all this, if thou wilt insist in thy enterprise, let us no longer defer the combat, which instantly to be done, will be too too long.  
While he spoke, the Pagan steadfastly gazed on him, and judging him of great strength, because his constitution was not much less than his own, and this imagination he confirmed, noting the liberty of his words, which he said proceeded of valour, for others at his sole sight, were ready to tremble. So he answered. In faith (Sir knight) I see no reason but any thing should be done to obtain your friendship, which ought not be little esteemed by him that hath it. But you see if I leave the battle, it redounds to my dishonour: for it will be said, I did it for fear, which could never yet be reported, since I knew what armour meant: so now to give occasion of such speech, he will not permit that knows the estimation of true honour, and how it ought to be embraced. So let our battle be presently, although I assure you, more than this, I never doubted the end of any: witnesses we shall need none, for my promise passed to this fair Princess shall be sufficient. It is so (replied the Greek) for since the one must of necessity sacrifice his bloold in this field, let the survivor be Conqueror & judge to carry away the Lady. Who came to speak unto the knight, so amazed, that the Greek conceived the cause, and quickly assured himself thereof. It gladded him, purposing if he vanquished, to marry her to the Pagan. Defied each other had these combatants, and sought for a convenient place to make the battle, when from the thicket issued a knight upon a nimble Coveser: he did no more but take view of the number that was there, and returned.  
Every one noted him, and mused what he intended by such haste. But the desire the two had of their Combat, made them forget him. They turned their fierce horses about, whose success an other Chapter must unfold: for it deserveth much more.   

CHAP. XI. The adventure that befell unto the two most mighty warriors, being in their combat, and what else happened.  
WIth a thousand amorous doubts, the beauteous Syrinda expected the two brave warriors encounters, greatly fearing the Greek, because she sent for him, and the Pagans' success, good or bad, she felt in midst of her soul: and either's blows she received on her breast. So that dear (Ladies) never had Combatants a more suspicious judge: because she through love, pleads the merits of the one: and the Greeks worthiness, the bounty wherewith he undertook her cause, enforced her to defend him. Oh (sacred Damsels, Nature's chiefest beauties) lend me some little favour, that I may worthily relate the rarest single Combat fought upon the earth: for the one is Rosabel, of whom the world already trembles: the other, the haughty Abstrusio, mirror of the Pagan Nations. The nimble swiftness of their horses, was occasion of their quicker meeting, making more noise in their carrier, than Vulcan's forged fire rattling through the skies, renteth his passage, flashing among the darkened Clouds. Big and knotty were their Lances, but encountering with their steeled shields, they seemed of slender willows: Whose shivers mounted so high, that their sight gave notice of that Combat above the fourth sphere. Neither miscarried by the shock, though both warriors were assured of the others strength. Amazed was the Pagan, seeing his adversary in his saddle, for in all his life till then, he never encountered any but he overthrew him to the hard ground. The Greek drew forth the Trojan Hector's sword, glad to see the Pagans valour. And flourishing it aloft with that celerity he used in all his hattles, let fly at the Pagan: who turned to ward it, yet his diligence prevailed not, for he had not scarce offered his defence, when the skilful Greek redoubled the strength of his proffered blow, and bravely discharged it on his adversaries shield, it boots not to be of fine tempered steel, for all it reached was thrown to the grassy plain. Sometimes would they proffer advantages, as in a school of Fence is accustomed, which would redound unto the offerers disadvantage, as now it befell the Greek Prince. For spurring his horse, he would have given the Sarracen another blow before he settled himself: he did so, but the unbridled fury of the horse, most fiercely ran beyond the Pagan, whose course Rosabell on a sudden staying, the plain being wet, his hinder feet slipped, so that both headlong stumbled down. Galtenor saith the Greek, lost not his saddle: but Lirgandeo affirmeth it: adding, that his fall was the cause he performed one of his usual acts: for being on his feet, in a dry place he awaited.  
The Pagan coming, that eagerly ran to overthrow him: his Horse he would not kill, but meeting breast with breast, with no less force than Mars himself, he made both Master and horse recoil back in such a maze, that he had time to follow the Pagan, and cast his arms about him. He was so quick in performing it, that he had almost pitched the Giant on his head. So syrinda's Lover fearing some evil success, was enforced to do the like, and shaking the stirropes from his feet, suffered the Greek to pull him off: who so mightily snatched him from his seat, that he tumbled him on the ground: but closer doth not the ivy encompass about a moss begrowne Tower, than the Pagan embraced the Brittanicke youth, so that both fell grovelling on the earth, where rising, they began a most gallant wrestle, using so many slights and tricks, that the God of battles could no more desire.  
And so their wrestle falling out at the beginning of their fight, it longer continued, either procuring some advantage to get ground of his adversary. Never were they in more danger than now. Along while strived they thus, till weary of grappling, wresting forth their arms, fling themselves strongly the one from the other, with such admiration of those that beheld them, as they believed not what they saw. Highly did the Lady esteem the Greek, seeing him so bravely maintain himself against him that was famoused to be the valiantest in all the Adriatricke Isles, who on his own behalf greatly misdoubted, judging his adversity the mightiest in the world. Now keep they no order, nor nothing procure they more than death, or eternal honour by conquest of his adversary. One of the worlds best swords was the Greeks, being at Venus' instant request tempered for the Trojan, wherefore he never struck blow but it fetched blood, cut armour and flesh. And he himself received them nothing inferior, and though they drew blood through the defence of his armour and dexterity, yet they bruised his flesh in grievous manner. The Pagan at this time assaulted his adversary, thinking with that blow to assure the victory. But trebatio's kinsman, that was in all things his superior, by stepping aside avoided it, letting him fiercely pass on, so turning after him, the Greek discharged his rage on the others waste, in two he had cleft him, had he given the blow with good aim, yet it put the Pagan in great pain: who for all that, recovering himself, at once confronted each other: most mighty were the blows that fell on their helms, either drew his sword besmeared with the others blood, and with the force of the stroke they set their hands on the earth.  
The Greek did first rise, being longer wound, and ere his foe was settled in his broken shield, he gave him such a blow, that cutting a great piece off it, descended on the shoulder, where it lighted so heavily, that his knees were forced to the ground: Close he would, thinking to overthrow the Pagan. But this bold attempt had like to have cost him his life: for the fierce Abstrutio being very nimble, and seeing him come unadvisedly, he set his sword between him, on which the Prince cunning, felt the point in his flesh, whereat staying, he gave backwards, else it had pierced a passage for his life.  
Here missed he his good Armour, attributing the fights continuance unto the want of them. He turned fiercer than a savage Bear upon the Pagan, who by that was on foot, laying on him so many mortal blows, that quickly some advantage was discerned on rosabel's side: but it was such as often his adversary hazarded his hopes of conquest: for the Pagan seeing how it concerned him, did from his wounds draw strength, both to defend and offend: which yet made the event of the battle seem doubtful: wherein the warriors were eager and greedy one of the others overthrow, that they spied not till they were almost surprised, who issued out of the Grove: they were four mighty deformed Giants, with above an hundredth knights, who knowing the Pagan, pursued him for revenge, by reason of their father's death, by his, which they deferred till they might take him at some advantage from his Court.  
Well did the haughty Greek guess at their intent, noting the manner of their coming: wherefore using his accustomed magnanimity, said to Abstrusio. Leave we our battle in this estate sir knight, for I repose such trust in your person, as when farther occasion shall permit, you will end it: and now procure we to defend the Princess from these knights, whose hasty coming seems not for peace. It cannot be expressed how the Prince's words gladded the Pagan, who replied. Your pleasure be fulfilled (Sir knight) for henceforth I yield to you the victory of this battle, because far more your magnanimous bounty deserveth. So both recounted on their horses. For the giants arrival broke off their speeches. The knights were attired after the Parthian manner, with bows and arrows, which like a shower of rain they let fly at the two knights, who felt some of them in their flesh through their armour.  
To shun this fury, the Lady was forced to leap from her Palfrey, which she had no sooner done, but one of the Giants with twenty Knights took her up, and in great haste spurred away. At the outcries she made, her Lover saw her, and considering his loss, losing her, said.  
Now (most haughty Knight) must you extend the utmost of your valour, against these wild villains, whilst I pursue the robber of my joy, for without her I desire no life. Do so (brave Knight) replied the Greek, for it is reason you should. And I by shedding my hearts dear blood, shall but satisfy my bounden duty due to the Lady. Away like the wind in swiftness departed the Pagan, leaving Rosabell in the greatest peril in the world: but he was borne to endure them, and encouraging himself being alone, courageously he thrust his horse among that treacherous people. Never did Reaper in Harvest season, with more desire enter his sharp sickle in the yellow ripe corn, then with fury lyriana's Lover priest among those Knights, bereaving some of arms, some of lives, and others wounded to the death, some he cloven down right, and some he parted at the waste in two: thirty Knights had the Greek slain, and wounded many, ere any of the Giants could at full give him one blow; so at length one of them pressed to him, eagerly to execute his wrath: but in the encounter, he opposed himself with death. For although he wounded the Greek on the shoulder, yet he not respecting the others blows, he cast his shield at his back, and though unadvisedly he spurred against the Giant with his sword raised in both hands, it fell on his thick helm, which unable to resist, it was with the head cleft in the midst to the neck, felling him down at his horse feet.  
So great was the Ire that possessed the Knights, seeing their Giant slain, that under him they slew the Greeks horse. Now he was in no less danger then of his life: for being on foot, they all ran to overturn him with their horses: some defence found he behind the heap of dead Knights, which was nothing, had not fortune hither brought the Tynacrian Polliphebo, flower of Chivalry: who having past many storms in the seas, the heavens for either's good, did cast him on that shore, directing him thither at such time as he might succour his cousin, who like Mars himself behaved him, for having slain another of the surviving Giants horses, in the fall he took from him an Iron Mace that hung at the saddle bow, the which at that instant served him better than his sword, for with it he reached more out at length. The Tynacrian blest himself to see a knight of such force: he judged him to be a Greek, for in them consisted the worlds strength: he said never a word, but with his lance above hand, like a fierce comet entered among them, killing above ten before he broke it. He would needs rid the Knight from the Giant that remained on horseback: so drawing forth his sword, went to him, and taking it twixt both hands, raised himself on his stirropes, and finding the Giant careless of him, executed the bravest blow that in all that day was given (for he discharged his sword on his middle, higher he could not reach) in so brave a manner, that from thence downward he left on horseback, tumbling the other half at rosabel's feet, that with the noise of the fall turned about, and seeing a deed so extraordinary, could not but a loud say thus.  
Oh mighty jupiter, what unmatched incomparable strength is this? He looked on his devise, yet knew it not, for he had never before seen it: but desirous to let him see what he believed, stepped with his left foot forward, closed with the Giant that unmercifully laid on him, and strongly firming himself on the ground, with both hands discharged his sword on his shoulder, which effected such a blow, as it was doubted whether of the two the God of war enured: for all that part down to his legs he cut away: and like an Eagle leapt on a horse that was near him.  
Neither of the kinsmen spoke to the other, leaving it till better opportunie, but thrust themselves among that miserable rout, & grieved they were so few whereon to show their valour. In less than an hour were the two warriors left alone, yet mought it well be said, in them consisted the most part of human power. Together they put off their helms, discovering their beauty admired, able to have slain Apollo's in his glory.  
They were almost of one age, so Rosabell first spoke: Most mighty knight, the best that ever mine eyes beheld, make me meritorious, to know to whom I am bound for my life: for to your happy coming, when I accounted it lost, must I attribute my now enjoying it. Whereto the Tynacrian answered. Excellent and most renowned warrior, there was so little need of my help in presence of your valour, as I desire no thanks for any thing done, being solely due to the strength of your arm: for if I presumed to the attempt of any deed, it was only to have the fruition of your sweet presence, which binds me to tell you who I am. Although there want in me sufficient merits to equal me in valour, to deserve the name of brother to the Emperor Alphebo, & Rosicler the most glorious knight of Cupid: I am Polliphebo of Tyvaria, son to Queen Garrofileo, and the Emperor Trebatio, and I arrived at Greece, with desire to make myself known unto my Lord the Emperor, though I am assured he is displeased with my cruel mother. The joy cannot be expressed, which Rosabell conceived, seeing him whose fame had filled the earth with immortal honour. He embraced him with these words.  
In faith (heroic Prince) I may hereafter think myself the happiest knight alive, through the knowledge of such an uncle: for know (though my deeds deserve it not) I am your cousin Rosabell, of great Britain, son to Rosicler, and the Princess Oliua, and he that nothing more desired then to know you. With exceeding content the Tynacrian embraced him.  
Oh unexpected happiness, is it possible such goodness was in a land so remote, reserved for me? what may I hope for that will not befall me, since fortune hath so luckily begun my good, acquainting me with one of the puissant Emperor trebatio's kinsmen? I do protest (most excellent Prince) this day shall so be inprest within my memory, that first every victual power shall abandon their natural nation, ere I will forget the remembrance of this present content, caused by the knowledge of so warlike a cousin: & be assured (dear Rosabel) that seeing you are the first I have known of my kindred, so you shall always be in all things: for I will never obey any with more willingness.  
He performed it better than he spoke it, for never cousins loved one an other more, nor Rosabell esteemed none of his Uncles as he did she Tynacrian. Quickly did Fortune or Nabatos power, (through the Dacians intercession, whom he accounted as his child) separated them: for the Greek telling his cousin why he came from Greece, and the necessity Abstrusio might be in, forced them as quick as any thought to seek the Lovers.  
but being overtaken by the night's approach, and they following their haste, lost one another in the wood, which so grieved either of them, as they were ready for grief to yield their selves: and surely they had fallen into some danger, (for they had engendered the greatest affection that can be imagined) had not the wise man comforted them, alleging how needful their parting was. So he returned the Tynacrian to his damsel, and launching his Bark into the deep seas, we leave him, returning to the Greek.   

CHAP. XII. How Rosabell met with Abstrusio, fight with them that had stolen his Lady. How he aided him: and after, how he suffered shipwreck on the seas.  
CIth some comfort given by the wise man, did Rosabel Prince of great Britain hast his journey, joying in the knowledge of the Tynacrian prince his Uncle: G thousand thanks gave he the heavens, for being allied to kinsmen of such might. Till midnight did he gallop seeking for Abstrusio, wishing in heart he might arrive in good time to lend him his aid: herein would Fortune seem to favour him, for even when fair Endyminos love shined fairest, than heard he a noise of blows and armour clashing. Lighter than a young wanton Goat, spurred he thitherward, and entering into a spacious field, he saw syrinda's mighty Lover, like a new Mars among his adverse Knights. He stood a while gazing on him, glad to see such haughty strength, and judged him worthy of the Lady's bravery. He assailed them saying. To them, to them brave Knight, for their own weakness shall here confound them.  
The Greeks courageous words did greatly encourage him, whom knowing, he humbled himself for his good help: the which he not a little needed, for at that instant above two hundredth knights under the leading of a Captain Giant, came marching down along the field against the Pagan: this Giant was king and Lord over them all: the fury which they brought, made the Greek fear the losing of the Lady, whom he entreated seeing her on foot, to get up to the top of the hill, and hid herself among the trees, whither he would quickly follow her.  
She did so: kindly requesting the Greek to look unto the safety of Abstrusio. It grieved him not to hear her tender speech, purposing to marry them if he could. Then like a thunderbolt he turned on his enemies: and with Abstrusio ranged up and down among them, died to the chin in adverse blood, and though the Pagan were somewhat weary with the many battles of that day, yet the sight of the Greeks brave deeds, so animated his fainting heart, that he forgot his wounds, and their pain.  
Such miserable destruction on the hard ripened corn, makes not the overflowing of an unstaid current passing his limits, as the two warriors on those coward knights, giving no blow in vain, but slew outright, or for ever maimed: which it behoved them so to do, being only two, and their enemies so many. Follow me brave knight, (said the Greek) for ere we part from hence, I vow to be revenged on these base villains. Do what you will (most mighty warrior) answered he, for I'll obey. His shield he cast at his back, and took his sword twixt both hands, beginning to execute such deeds as Mars would not attempt.  
More feared was not Hercules among the Centaurs, than Rosabell of his enemies, that beating them down on every side, at length he metwith the Giant that stole the Lady, whom he assailed with a terrible blow, and past on, where the Pagan stayed him till he returned, when with both hands he discharged his sword on his thick helm, whereon the famous Trojans blade finding no resistance, made his head a good way to skip from his neck. This pleased him not, so that above ten lost their lives in the conflict: for repairing thither, it was as much as to be led to the slaughter house. By this, the Lark the morning's Herald, mounting into the lofty airy skies, began to sing the days approach, welcoming bright Phoebus to the East, when the two warriors like two fiery meteors of heavens consuming wrath, ranging about the battle, encountered in the end (weary of killing) with the chief and sole suruyor of the Giants, who roaring like a Lion for his prey, seeking them, met, and with them his death: for stepping between them, with a heavy Iron mace thought to revenge himself at two blows.  
It fell out otherwise, for the furious Greek with one stroke cut away half his shield, and sorely wounded him. Hear did Abstrusio bravely second him, though it cost him dear, for thrusting himself under the giants arms, although he thrust a handful of his sword in the side of his breast, yet did the Giant execute his blow, discharging it on the top of his helm, so fiercely, that senseless it struck him along upon his horse. At the noise the Greek turned about, and thinking his companion dead, no Hyrcanian fury may be compared to him. With more eagerness furiously flies not the lowering Eagle against the spoiler of his nest, as the Greek to be revenged. Again would the Giant raise his Mace, when with incomparable strength with one blow did Rosabell throw down his arms and club: and with a thrust going to run through the Giant, he turned aside, making the Greek strike his head against his breast, with more strength he embraced him, than Hercules, when twixt his hands he crushed to death two serpents: yet it availed him not, wanting one arm: for the Greek drawing forth his dagger, terminated that war with two cruel stabs. Dead tumbled down one of the mightiest Gyans of all those Isles, whose father lost his life by the hand of the great Dardario, & the son procuring his just revenge, sacrificed his blood with honour, being bereft by the Greek Prince: who fearing to lose Abstrusio, did execute more than human deeds.  
Better was not the Hesperian fruit kept, before Alcides spoiled it, than Rosabell defended the sounded Pagan, offending his enemies on all parts so lamentably, that woe was to him that approached to try the effect of his hands: even as one awaked from a deep slumper, so amazedly the Pagan raised himself, and remembering the state wherein he was, and what the Greek had done for him, said to himself.  
Oh jupiter, let me live, that I may gratify this knight, what his deeds on my behalf have deserved. The furious braveness wherewith he behaved himself, so animated the stout Lover, that as if but then the war began, he began to turn himself among them, to the dear cost of many lives. So Rosabell spurring his horse away, said.  
Fellow me knight, for our fight now is to no more purpose, the drawing of the morning's brightness coming on so fast, may make us lose the Lady. The Pagan followed him, for whom the Greek hewed out such ample passage, as he could reach to effect no blow. They galloped through the thickest of the troops, leaving behind them the cruelest slaughter that ever was done by two knights. They arrived to the hill where the Lady was, there they dismounted to speak to her: who full of joy (guided by Love) embraced the Pagan, thanking him for his kind careful rescue. She on the instant perceived her committed error, but could not salve it: for Lyriana's skilful Lover, strait judged the cause, and being glad thereof, knowing the Pagans' will, and considering of the signs which the Lady had shown of her affection towards him, said to try what would come of it.  
Now is the time (sir knight) to end our former battle, that I may right the Lady which hath called me from so far countries. Both Lovers were moved by the Greeks words, but passing that fit, and weighing what he had done, Abstrusio thus replied. Oh jove forfend (brave Knight) that seeing you have so often saved my life this day, I should now employ it against your service. The glory and victory of the fight is yours: and more than it deserves your valour, which the heavens have imparted you: and though it be more than hell for me to live without this sovereign Lady, so I may seem grateful to your deservings, myself shall force myself to forego this happiness, which is the only nourisher of my forlorn life.  
Worthy the honour of your high merits (excellent knight) hath this your answer been (said Rosabell) and I do in heart wish my faint woorthes were now equal to my will, that I might (were it but in part) pay the great bonds your liberal bounty hath bound me in: and since this Lady is now enfranchised and free, I am ready (as I promised her Damsel) to conduct her to her kingdom, or where else she please. Whereto she spoke. Ever since (sir knight) my fortunes made me need your help, I put my honour in your hands, and so I am sure you will (considering my necessity) protect it, in lieu whereof, I vow obedience to all your commands.  
It fits so ill (fair Syrinda) with my conditions, (spoke the Greek) to guard Ladies, as the experience I have of my own misfortunes, enforceth me refuse this charge, leaving it in the hands of this mighty knight, protesting, that if I had a sister, and with her many kingdoms, I would commit her to none other. And seeing you have so plainly heard my will, I expect your reply according to yours, that hereafter I may serve Ladies after a new manner. I know not whether of the two were more joyed with the Prince's words, but the Lady with the accustomed bashfulness in such cases, thus replied.  
It well appears (sir knight) you would by all good ways procure my good will to accomplish yours. But that you may see, there is in me no less acknowledgement of your deserts, then in this knight, for what on my behalf you have performed, I once again submit myself to your order, to dispose of him at your content, assured that a knight of your worth, will regard my pure honour as your own: for having put myself in your hands, the laws of knighthood binds me to it. The Greek did highly (as reason would) esteem what the Lady did, and unwilling to defer the happy content which the Pagan might receive, did presently espouse them on the top of that hill, with more joy than if they were in their rich royal palace. Witnesses they did not want, for at the contract there were present, the beauteous Nymphs Oreades and Hamadryades, with many hairy Sylvan Gods.  
The Greek by telling them who he was, did very much please the new betrothed couple. There they passed away the remnant of the night in pleasant chat, for the Pagan with gladness felt not his wounds, and the Greek not willing to disturb their content, dissembled his own. But when Apollo's light expelled Cynthia's darkness from the heaven, all three took their next way to the City, where hearing what had befallen, they had armed above twenty thousand men, the which several ways divided in many troops went to seek their king. Many of them they met, that greatly rejoiced seeing him well, who gave order for the recalling of the rest back again, which was so well followed, that before noon they all returned. In honour of the Nuptials, throughout the City and all the Kingdom, many triumphs and jousts were ordained: therein the Greek showed the incomparable valour of his person. He continued there in the cure of his wounds above a month, so tendered and honoured, as in Greece he could be no more. So thankful did the Lady show herself by her tender care and careful attendance, that the Greek accounted all his pains well bestowed for her. At length thinking it time, he told the Prince how necessary his departure was.  
It extremely grieved them, for they loved him as a brother: They entreated him to stay one eight days more, till the ending of an armour which the Lady had caused to be made, he was constrained to stay because he would not go without them.  
I well appeared by their riches, the good will they bear to him: they likewise gave him a lusty strong Courser, wherewith, and with the arms the Prince was well pleased. He took his leave of brave Abstrusio, and not without many tears from syrinda's fair eyes. They remained so affected unto him, that when the Greek wars were known, this was one brought great aid thither, doing the Greeks such good service, that thereby they sufficiently paid the Prince, who with some grief for their absence in a well rigged ship, Navigated towards Nyquea, thinking he should sooner there then in any other place, hear of his Lady.  
On the fift Navigation, Fortune already being weary of her stay, would show him one of her fiercest changes, for obtaining Neptune's favour, she conspired with Aeolus to overturn the seas, raising such tempestuous storms, that the Prince saw himself a thousand times in the hands of death: sometimes mounted aloft upon the devouring rigs of a wave, as high as a heavens weeping face, and then tumbling down, as low as the lowest Centre of the deep, thinking himself and ship overwhelmed in those merciless waters, accompanying the watery dwellers in their Caverns. Then would he pity his weak overmatched vessel, to see it strive against two such mighty Elemental foes, for having lost by fury of the raging winds, all her sails, her masses, and tackles above, was below so cruelly assaulted with the seas, remorseless surges, that beating at her belly and sides, had hewed their passage through her ribs, entering her breaches so without all pity, that neither by pumping, nor any other means, her leaks were unable to be stenched, that the poor Mariners tired with labour, amazed at the tempests, fierceness and confounded with death: submitted to the pitiless mercy of winds and waters, whose piteous woeful clamours piercing the roaring noise of their opposed enemies, ascended the high heavens. The casting overboard, of goods, anchors and tables, nothing doth avail, and what in haste they cannot hurl overboard, the furious wind doth blow away, and that it leaves, an envious surge doth wash into the sea.  
Thus hopeless of all remedy tossed up and down, for the unbridled rage of violent fight winds, being unchained from the earths obscure concavities, blew from every corner nothing but consuming wrath, death and destruction, tying their force upon the small weak vessel, which they had torn in many places. Four days fought they thus against the unceasing dismal tempests, in the end whereof, the poor death-fainting sailors seeming to foresee an unlooked for calm, a sudden furious Southern blast opened the torn Bark, leaving the distressed lover grappling at a plank upon the whistling Billows, and yet with his sword in his mouth: for without it (pitiful Ladies) he would not die. With such violence blew the winds, that violently on a flinty Rock they hurled him, to whose top, with the strength of his arms he got. From whence he looked to see what would become of the ship and mariners, where he saw the lamentable spectacle, the poor Master riding on the waters, upon a Chest, whereon he set all his hope, till a devouring wave came and bereft him of both it and life. The groans he heard, of the rest that perished, seeing the farthels, packs, trusses, caper on the dancing billows, and foaming waves. No courage prevailed with them, nor their continual living on the seas: for every one (as it is wont) it buried in her watery bowels. So extreme sorrowful remained the Prince of great Britain at the lamentable spectacle, that with tears in his eyes he burst forth into this passion. Oh supreme high heavens, how no man in this miserable world may justly call himself, sure or happy? There is no state, no dignity, nor office how high soever it be advanced, but is by Fortune, subject to the greatest and most dangerous falls? Him call I happy that least doth set his confidence in Fortune, or hath least received of her blind gifts, terming her benefits, the threatening of greater misery. What good is there on earth but is mingled with a thousand unsavoury displeasing evils, and of discontents, misfortunes, and lamentable events, such and so many, that only leave him with his bare name, overpressing the soul with torments, and grieving the perplexed mind with most grievous and woeful pains?  
After that, by little and little the fury of the sea was assuaged, he hasted to a cops that not far from thence he espied, there to dry his clothes, and himself. There Trebatio's haughty Nephew disrobed himself, leaving but his only shirt upon him, remembering with some tenderness the troubles he had overpast: judging by the greatness of them, they would at length, weary of themselves, bring him to a delectable sweet end, that then with the present happiness he might joyfully recount his former infelicities.  
This consideration somewhat animated him, suffering that distress more patiently. Example should they take by him, that in less dangers forget to make use of sufferance, esteeming that death, which peradventure the celestial powers doth but ordain for trial of their works.  
The Greek again appareled himself, his vestments being dry, and laid him down to rest, never more destitute thereof then at that instant: it was little, for strait he wakened to seek some path which might lead him to some Village: he found it, but with some trouble: for without it, nothing desired is lightly obtained. And going along the same, there happened to him, what the ensuing Chapter doth mention.   

CHAP. XIII. What befell unto the mighty Rosabell, with certain other Ladies, of whom he learned the country wherein he then was.  
I Dare almost assure myself (fair Ladies) your beauties have with some feeling (except your hearts be harder than the flint, or more obdurate than the Diamond) attended the Greek princes shipwreck: In faith his worths deserve it: for he that with an (aim) submits himself to grief, maketh himself unworthy of commiseration, being in necessity: and yet, never any merited favour, that denied it to the needy. Something destitute of it was Olyvias' haughty son, but from the midst of his heart drew he strength to resist his woes: who although encompassed on all sides with so many extremes, did never forget her, whose favours were wont to cherish him, and now in absence putting him to his trial.  
This virtue hath true love (removable by nothing from the soul, where it buildeth once his rest,) opposing itself against all inconveniences, though ordered by his Lady, whereof being assured, takes them as comforts to his distress. Many examples there are of this, yet of them I will recount but one, witness my mother's son, whom neither the changes of time, nor time altering course of life: nor yet the Mutability of state in life, can make him deny his Captivity, nor omit the dulled accents of an unaccent passion, with remembrance of his groans for his unpitying wars. And though she know it, and the sincerity of his affection, yet turns she away the pity of her favour, one telling him his pains are too few. Pity so unfortunate a Lover (pitiful Ladies) and ye that shall first hear of his grief, greater than that which never any had, nor worse respected: yet this comfort hath he, that a lady (exceeded all worth of comparison) moved with his laments, said (unknown by whom) ungrateful truth may she be called, that thus entreateth this distressed Lover: Venus and Cupid reward thee (beauteous Lady) and su●● I am he will when thou shalt desire loves help, against Fortune's tyranny: for the Greek Lord suffering his labours with constant sufferance, in the end obtained his Lyriana, whose only sight made him deem all his former discontents, most sweet contents.  
With this hope traveled he on foot, only with his sword, having taken the straightest and most trodden path. He had not gone far, but vexed with thirst (although new dried of waters) he turned up a long by a clear stream, till he came to the head of the spring, about which, was builded an Alabaster Fountain, whose work, with the clearness of the waters, invited the Prince to drink. Which done, he did eat of such fruit as the fruitful trees did yield, that round encompassed the Fountain. Tired with his former toils, he laid him down and slept a good while, resting his rest wanting amorous joints.  
far was he not from the great city of Golthuerg, chief in the Kingdom of Sylephia, lying between Polonia and Bohemia, and therefore at the instant, he dreamt the sweetest Vision in all his life: for thinking himself embraced his Lady, the Princess Eufronisa, whose beauty was inferior to none, equalling the fairest that met in Constantinople at the Triumphs. She was very young, having not yet attained to 14. years, which made her as children use, walk to sport herself about those woods that bordered on her garden: and having lost herself with one Lady, from the rest of her attendants, so amazed was not Venus, when she first saw the boy Adonis along the banks of Nilus, as with admiration the beauteous Eufronisa was astonished with the Greek Prince's sight that lay upon the grass, seeming more fair than when young Apollo in habit of a shepherd tended Alestes Goats. He was big of body, his other parts and lineaments are already set down, although now he entered into 20, they were better perfected. With more desire did the Lady gaze on him, then in the woods of Troy, the three fair Goddesses expected Paris sentence.  
So much she yielded to the sight, that she began to feel a new alteration never felt before in her heart: for being but a child, she yet knew not the meaning of loves pretty fooleries. With some wonder she turned to her damsel, with these words. Hast thou ever seen more perfect beauty than this gallant youth doth show? I believe that Nature at his birth, angry with herself, did thus create him to despite herself: I cannot think but he is child to some of our immortal Gods, that have now sent him on the earth to alienate all strangers wits.  
Which if it be so, we Ladies must strengthen ourselves with courage, for I fear, the wisest will need it to scape free of his sight, so absolute is he in all things. This advice came too late to the tender Lady, for Love had already made her his Goddess till the death: neither had she power to untie the knot wherewith blind Cupid had bound her heart, tying it so hard, as he left it insoluble.  
I pity thee gallant Eufronisa, that in the nonage of thy years, thou shouldest begin so sour an office, as to be subject to an unknown lord, I would willingly give thee some consolation, but so much I do want it, as rather for both I should procure it. No vain, no colour, no fashion was in the Brytanickes face, but she quoted it within her very soul, giving it the shadow, and her heart the substance, which being so tender and unacquainted with change, took such impression, that never Lady yielded more to love then Eufronisa. Now she desires to speak to him, then fears she. Already becomes she suspicious, that never learned to love.  
Before she knew who he was, she became so skilful in the Art, that she feared whether he loved, whether he could love or acknowledge any's sovereignty. Now she that stains the blushing of the morning's Sun, becomes envious of her own thoughts, and doth distrust her own worths, seeking new devices and invented means to be beloved, deserving for her own beauty, Ioues immortal worship. Oh Cupid's blind snares, happiness in misery, a plague in pleasure, and grief without remedy, found unsought for, and yet a torment that contains a most sweet life. By her amazedness, perceived the damsel her Lady's malady, wherefore she merrily said: Let us awake this knight, and try whether his beauty have more force waking or sleeping. Do what you will (replied she) although it be no modesty considering who we be. Rather weighing that, I think it best to do it (said the witty Selia) to see what he is that hath such power over Ladies: for if his merits equals all other parts requisite in a good knight, he may call himself one of the happiest in the world. So long continued the Ladies in their amorous chat, that the Prince awaked with these words. Oh fortune, how dost thou flatter my hopes, for if thou givest me any good, 'tis only dreaming, that when I wake to see it, I find it but an illusion. He said no more, for the Lady's sight stayed him, both from the publishing his woes, as of the cause of them. He rose, admiring the Lady's beauty: who first spoke thus. You should seem to have few enemies (sir knight) seeing so carelessly you lie and sleep in passages so open, that any by you offended, may at his pleasure right himself. He answered: So cross and austere hath my fortune always been most beauteous Lady, that it did never let me know the state wherein I might say I had a friend, for even my own thoughts do most within my breast, make war against my rest: wherefore having none to trust unto, forceth me to set myself in the hands of every one, that one in this generality, would show the office of a friend, by taking away my despised life, then as such a one I should account him, for by the deed giving me one death, he rids me of a thousand that I suffer in continual languishment: and it, might I well call life: for he lives well, that feels no more pain. Great is your grief (answered the Lady) and of force to draw commiseration from the hardest heart, and greater it is, seeing that none pities you, were it but with a counterfeit remedy, noting the weight of your complaints.  
In faith (fair Lady) said the Prince, so mighty are my oppressions, that although I know them, and the pain I endure by them, yet I must suffer them, for if I live, it is by living in pain, so that should I, but never so little ease this pain, it would be seen in the want of my health.  
If it doth so please you (replied the Lady) unjustly you complain, and I think you greatly wrong your Lady, terming her cruel. My complaints (most sovereign Lady) are not so much meant against my life's directness, as against my unhappy stars, that make me infortunate in favours, but not in my employment, for never was any better, but in such a place where my griefs be scorned. Some reason you have (said the Lady) having this occasion to bewail: for where sorrow is not regarded, there is a double grief, and gladly would I know who you are, and where borne, for you seem a stranger in these parts. I cannot but obey your sovereign command (most excellent Lady) answered the Greek: I was borne in the farthest Confines of great Tartary, and am called Corolano, cast by fowl weather and tempest of the sea, on this Country, passing so many troubles, that had I not received such unexpected comfort with your fair sight, no doubt, but that my soul seeing the body drenched in misery, and as unworthy to contain it, had it forsaken me, but to enjoy within it the view of your happy sight, gave life to her lifeless habitation: And that I may commit no error (for it is impossible but I have incurred some) suffer my prayers by your admittance to make me deserver to know the name of the land so happy in the possession of such admirable bravery. Quickly do you require a payment for the discovery of your name (Sir knight) replied Selia, (for the Princess could not, busied in her new and painful business) but because you shall not altogether judge yourself unfortunate in your pretences, know this land is called Sylepsia, whereof this Lady is Princess, and going on hunting, we lost our company and ourselves: yet we have not hunted ill, having found the amourousest knight in the world: and so according to your shows, none like you have better assurance of the lovers Tent, whose adventure was newly brought into this City, and the proof thereof shall within these four days be begun, and little shall you not please us to hazard your person in the trial.  
I am so ill provided of Armour and other necessaries, (fair damsel answered the tender Prince) that though I were unwilling to do it, yet to content your beauties, with them I would try it, assured that for loving and being unfortunate, to me the glory is only due.  
This want shall not hinder you (said Eufronisa) for I will furnish you with the best armour that ever you saw, erst belonging to the first king that reigned in this country, named Tersio, equal in sovereignty of Fortitude and Wisdom, strengthened by Art and skill wherewith he forged them, and never were seen by any. These i'll send you by this damsel, first swearing you shall not absent yourself from this Kingdom without my leave, and in our Palace shall you be cherished.  
The amorous Lady spoke so plainly, as the Prince could perceive loves new wound. There is none so destitute of judgement, but would have weighed what he obtained to be beloved of so fair a dame: for if the Prince had ever seen pure beauty, she was the perfect stamp thereof: in whose creation, Nature the old Mars of living form, had showed the utmost of her skill, modeling her lineaments, more absolute than thought could wish. Among so few years as they both had, was never seen completer excellencies: so he answered. Who dares most sovereign Lady, show himself so ungrateful to the favours imparted by your rare beauty, as to commit a fault so heinous to departed from you without your licence? I am so long since captive to another's will, as now to acknowledge it anew is no pain, but rather chiefest happiness, knowing to whom I own service. Why then (said she) we may be gone, assured you will do no otherwise, and this night will I send you horse and Armour, whose sight will content you: In the mean time hide yourself amongst these Pines: for having lost ourselves, it cannot be but our Guard will seek us out.  
The Greek now had no more will but to fulfil the Ladies: and so taking his leave of the young child, already old in love, he thrust himself into the the thickest thereof. Without a thousand embracements she had not sent him, feared she not to be too much noted of wantonness, yet with her eyes she expressed her hearts desire. They are (sovereign dames) the tongueless messengers that best make known the pain and pleasure of the souls. Better signs of like or dislike, is there not, than the motion of those speechless speakers.  
As one rapt in a dusty black cloud, so seemed Eufronisa in absence of her son. Ay me (my Selia) said the amorous Lady, what in auspicious luck crosses my tenderness to affect the knight that hath already another granted the possession, of his soul? Who can love him, knowing he affects another, wherewith the heavens have adorned me, and yet not made me proud? for if he loves another, how shall I love him, being sure that for my sight he will not violate the promise of his sacrificed faith, and yet who will not dote on him? What inconveniences can restrain me from his love? what infamy, what dishonour, or what stain of maiden's fame may befall me, but my soul will regardless trample on, so with equal love her pains might be rewarded? Why, I do not fear the foolish rude reports of common multitudes, when they shall join their mouths to fames shrill trump, far and near to sound my shame, when this my folly shall be noised abroad I will love and dote on him, and yet I do believe, that doing so, I do not sufficiently answer the merits of his valour, nor noble carriage of his mind.  
And though it be a torment intolerable, to know another is enshrined in his breast, I cannot refuse the divine appointment, nor what herein my hapless fates ordain: for otherwise, none more happy than I in love: and I cannot believe he is as he hath said to be, for these that have the power to be beloved of every one, do never disclose their true names, country, and estates, wherefore we must by all means procure to learn his certain name, for being entreated thereto, I do not doubt but he will.  
That he is easy to be known (answered the damoiselle) having him in our lodging, for if he be in love, (as he seemed to be) being alone, he will publish it, and perchance more than we now wish, for entire love cannot be hushed in secret, and every one too much brags of this blind opinion, as to account the greatest comfort to participate the inward thoughts, to stones, to walls, to groves, to fields, and winds. Ay me (my Selia) by experience thou dost show to have been in love (said Eufronisa) who can discourse of seas, of rocks, of shallows, and of tempests, but such as have navigated, scaped and passed them? What is he that fears his enemy, that hath not been wounded at his hands? If this be so, and thou so skilful, I will repose the trust of this my business, on thy discretion and experience.  
Had it been for nothing but to help you in this tempest, (sovereign Lady) answered Selia, I account the time well bestowed, I spent in loves toys, letting my soul confess with content, another's superiority. I am well acquainted with loves devices and his allurements: I know where he is resisted, there enviously he strives to subjugate new forces, causing afterwards greater pains for refusing his deity, and denying his prerogative over all the world, as he that can only give life or death with joy. Why then (my dear Selia) said the Princess, it is likely he will not so cruelly tyrannize over me, that willingly admitted the heavy yoke of his slavery, as he useth against them that levied arms and war against his power. Selia answered. To demand no condition of this God, is best for governing absolutely by himself, doth not (being blind) consider the grievous pains the soul endures, and many times with a little, rests he more content, (in the end he is but a child) then if a thousand hearts were sacrificed to appease his wrath. They could proceed no further in their sweet chat, for many knights came to them that carefully did seek them, fearing some disgrace had befallen them. They were glad when they met them, so altogether returned to the City, for the Princess would no longer stay, having already food to nourish her conceits. The night being come, they bond the armour in a bundle, and the Lady sent to a kinsman of hers, whom she trusted to make ready the best horse within the City. He did it, desiring to do her service, which when she knew, making him swear to keep her counsel, she bade him go with Selia, for she had promised a knight to furnish him, to prove the lovers tent. So leaving her, they arrived in good time at the fountain, where they found the Greek overwhelmed in imaginations, expecting the Lady's command. After courtesies passed on either side, Selia said. The Lady (sir Knight) that met you here this day, sends you this armour and horse, for seeing you promised her to prove the adventure of the lovers tent in her name, she thought good to furnish you with necessaries therefore. Whereto the Greek replied. Fair damsel, you may tell that Lady, that with such a favour, a harder enterprise is assured. They would not talk of other matters, because of the old man's presence, more than to give him direction for his way, and thereupon departed, leaving the Prince expecting the coming of the next morn, wherein fair Ladies there befell him what you shall hear.   

CHAP. XIIII. What happened to the Prince Rosabell, going to the City to prove the adventure of the lovers Pavilion.  
Unable to conceive the cause why that beauteous Princess should show him such kindness, lay Rosiclers' brave son upon the grass, passing away the night in that thicket, looking for the desired morn, mean while, taking some rest. Two hours before it did appear, he awaked with the remembrance of his lost Lady, recording with what rigour fortune had crossed his joys, judging his shipwreck was not yet an end unto his troubles, thinking that yet the blind Goddess was not content with his tried patience. He heartily wished to know new means to endure such excessive torments as he daily suffered. This imagination so oppressed him, that to ease with passage his burdening passions, he began to plain him to the trees, that with their stirring noise, moved by the gentle blasts of Zephyrus, seemed to pity his laments breathed against her, whose mutabilities are the plagues and scourges of mortal men. They were not uttered with such silence, but might be heard by Astorildo Prince of Callidonia, brother to the beauteous Rosamond, that departing from his sister in Greece, (glad in his soul to see her so well bestowed) traveled to seek adventures through the world, performing many brave deeds under the name of the knight of the Griffon, all which are at large set down in the Chronicles Lupercio writ of all the Pagan's acts. Galtenor doth not here mention them, because they appertained not unto the story he composed. So now was the free Pagan overhearing the Greeks complaints: he was not moved at them, for he had not yet yielded his liberty to love. A while he stayed, thinking the complaint would further proceed. It fell out as he would have it, for he uttered many pitiful exclaims, afore Aurora's shining in the heavens, yet could he not by them judge who he was, more than the constancy he published of his Love: who was so careful to go unto the City, that in the instant he put on the rich armour Eufronisa had sent him.  
Such were they as appertained to a novel knight, all white, burr garnished with many flowers of precious Rubies. They greatly pleased him, being of the best in the world, as also because with such of like colours, he departed from Nyquea, and combated with his father. His shield was like his armour, in middle thereof, bearing the picture of Faith, held by a white hand, which for all that two Serpents with their stings did prick, would not loosen it. The word this.  
loves griefs the longer,  
Holds Faith the stronger.  
Though orepressed: still myself.  
Clad in these fair arms, and mounted on a lusty Courser, did Trebatio's haughty Nephew place on towards the famous city, glad to see it with so many Danubious streams, which made it one of the fertilests soils in the world.  
The same way did he spy the valiant Astorildo, in fair green armour full of Pomegranates, and on his shield a fearful Griffon. Wonders had Rosabell heard of him, rejoicing to see him of such brave disposition: so did he admire the Greek, supposing he was him, that in the Forest he had heard complain, he gazed on him a while, judging his behaviour to excel his that in Grecia had overthrown him. Having each met with the other, they extended such courtesy, as they judged either's merits to deserve. The Callidonian spoke first in that country language, saying.  
I would gladly know (sir knight) who you are, for it seemeth to me, I have seen you far from hence. In the same tongue replied the Greek, being well skilled in most. I am (sir knight) of such remoted country, that though I should tell my name, you could not know me: notwithstanding through those places I have traveled, and where I am best known, I am called the Knight of the Flowers, being by storms and fortune of the seas, cast on this land, where I understood, there is in the King's Court, a certain adventure arrived very lately, which ere I did departed, I was willing to know and prove it, hazarding but little thereby, being on Lady's behalfs, whose service brings with it a reward for any pain how great soever, although it should be thought none done in a Lady's name.  
There is reason (replied the Callidonian) to procure their content with peril of our lives, but this must be with assurance of reward. Whereto the Greek answered. Then deserves he not to be beloved, that doth it for reward. Never (sir knight) was that love famous, whereto a recompense was proposed, which must by deserved love be obtained: for as love is the motion of a noble act, for which all good is desired to the thing loved, so doth not he merit that honoured, title that seeks it for any other thing, unless it be to let the world admire the rareness of his qualities, not inclining to the other, which rather is a price prefixed for love, dishonouring the reputation of the Lover, and disableth his worths, through the hopes of that guerdon which otherwise might make him most happy. And well it seems you know not what it is to be another's, alleging such an irronious opinion, condemned of all that know what happiness it is, happily to love, which makes me smile to think how safe the Tent is from you, for being to be given to lovers, your liberty excludes you from that privilege, which by being one, you have obtained. I would not have you so rashly judge, by what you know not (replied the Pagan) for you may be deceived. How should I be (said the Greek) hearing you so plainly urge your liberty? Nay then (returned the Callidonian) that you may know the unadvisedness of your judgement, I say, none shall prove it, unless he first prove me upon the speeches we have urged, for who the devil hath ever loved, without hope of something. That hope (answered Rosabell somewhat moved) the Lover must not have, but leave it in the Lady's dispose, for it is she must consider the merits of that faith, wherewith she sees she is adored, and according to those deserts and her bounty, she yields the due reward. And I am sorry we should with new brawls enter into the Palace, and I being first advertised of the adventure, the first trial ought to be mine. And so about both matters (having now opportunity) let our battle be, with this condition, (lest we want time for the adventures promised) that he which foregoeth first his saddle, shall not see the adventure, unless he be commanded by the conqueror. Nothing doth better please me (said Astorildo) that you may know your error by your love.  
So these two famous warriors turned their horses bravely confronting each other. More horror makes not the furious waves, beating on the stony rocks, than they by their encounters.  
The Pagan was one of the greatest that the Greek had received, for it cast him backwards on his horse, with loss of both stirrups: but the Pagan chanced worse, for Mars on horseback equalled not the Prince, that met him so strongly, that fetching him clean from his saddle, he fell on his feet. Recover he would his seat before the Greek returned, having the bridle in his hand, but the horse starting at his offer, mounted aloft and put him from it, that the Greek when he turned, saw him on the ground: where he required the combat with the sword. We should so stay overlong (said the Greek) for fear thereof made me condition thus: but we shall have time ere you depart this land to do it, the which I promise to perform, be it but to dissuade you from your heresy. And that you may begin to credit me, I am content you first prove the adventure, so shall you see what advantage you should have, not having this opinion which your liberty makes you maintain. Otherwise could not the Pagan do, for noted he would not be of discourtesy: so he promised to accomplish it, and mounting again like two great friends, they took their way to the City, arriving there at the first hour after noon, when all the principal thereof repaired to the Palace to see the adventures proof, together with many valiant strangers that about it were thither come. As these two warriors passed through the streets, all the people's eyes they drew after them, admiring to see them so well armed, & of so brave disposition. Gallanter Knights were not in that City seen of many years before. As too and fro the streets were crossed by passengers that went to the Court, and they doing the like, the suns splendent rays reverberated on their glittering armour, as no sense could more desire. The amorous Eufronisa lost not this sight, for standing on a turret, she saw the majestic pacing of her gallant, and said unto herself, she had given him but little to make him Lord only of her heart. There is no. Lady (said Loves new Scholar) that hath more reason to love than I, since (in my opinion) the Gods have not reserved unto themselves, more grace, more bravery, nor more worth, than they have bestowed on this knight. Somewhat did this deefied couple prick their horses, and passing under the Ladies being, the Greek made his, bend his knees to the ground, and his head lower than his breast. The Lady seeing it, raised herself to do him courtesy, which as a favour she bestowed, not respecting how she might be noted for it. Near her stood her witty Selia, that burst into these words.  
I cannot blame you, (sovereign Princess) for loving him that was borne to be beloved, and if for him you suffer, he hath with him a remedy for your greatest malady, and therefore do not complain, for if you do, I'll swear you do dissemble. She answered. If there wore any with him, that would so well plead my deserts to him, as he hath here to read his merits to my belief, it might be I should be able to dissemble my pain when it takes me: & yet can I not deny what thou allegest, for his gallant behaviour is a comfort in midst of my greatest woes. The two famous Knights alighted, for the hall (being one of the fairest in the world) was full of knights, that expected the proof of the lovers Pavilion. In the outward yard they left their horses, and as friends together entered into the hall, having round about an infinite of rich seats, excepting a corner, purposely hung and reserved for the Ladies that then entered, whose beauty and bravery delighted every heart. The most beauteous Eufronisa would not differ in her colour of garments from the Britain's armour, appareling herself all in white, embroidered with red roses, that never to the Lady's sight it admitted no compare. The Greek did note it well, & smiled at it. This occasion expected Cupid to yoke the breast of warlike Astorildo, that in scorn of him had long time led his life: and so with the sight of the Ladies rare beauty, he was beset with new desires, feeling his heart subdued. A wound was this he received, that only death cured, for that solely had power to remedy it: for the Lady busied her eyes gazing on the Greek, he thinking on Lyriana, in whom his hopes, life, & felicity consisteth. So that only Love must please this third intruder: for Astorildo already loves, his life depends on his alienation: now he grieves for appointing combat with the Greek, seeing it toucheth what he adores, and with a word he hath even now changed his opinion, by being in love, and without hope ever to obtain any recompense for his distress. And yet the Lady scorning the firmness wherewith he loves her, placeth it in affecting him that laughs at her, because he dotes upon Lyriana. So the Ladies sat them down, being above a hundredth in number, daughters to the chief Nobles of the Realm. When all were silent, an ancient grave man, for so he was that brought the Tent, did set it in middle of the hall. A fairer piece was never seen: it was all of blue Satin, imbroderad with Artechokes of gold, set with so many stones, that their splendour deprived the sight of it.  
At the door thereof appeared two knights richly armed, that seemed to challenge the fight of every one present: within was seen a fair throne, whereon sat a Lady of exceeding beauty, holding in her hands a crown of inestimable value. Thus every one expecting to know of the ancient knight the sum of the adventure, the Ladies and knights yielding him grateful audience, he began to recite the cause of his coming, whose relation deserves a new Chapter, inferring me to entreat of you, fair wonders of nature's beauties like attention, for now have I most need thereof, expressing a matter of itself so worthy to be known.   

CHAP. XV. How the knight ending his relation of his adventure, his knights began to prove it, and what them befell.  
MOst high and mighty King of Sylepsia (began the ancient knight) in the Southern parts and regions of the world, there sometimes dwelled a man in the hidden and secret mysteries of Art and Necromantic spells the skilfullest of his time, whose knowledge and great wisdom could not keep him from the snares of deceitful love, who entrapped him with the beauty of Belisa, daughter to the king of Arabia the Felix, one of the fairest Ladies on the earth, who governed with higher thoughts, admitted not the wise Nycostratos affection. He achieved many worthy deeds in her service, yet all would not prevail to move the Lady's love, nor yet to show him one counterfeited favour, which put him in such desperation, as daily he neglected the estimation of his credit, & more & more lost his health. On this Lady were also enamoured two Princes, alike in valour and deserts, though one was more happy having the Lady's favour: who fed him with those hopes that they are wont to give their lovers, all which was worse than death to the wise man, as also to the other knight rejected.  
So Nycostrato knowing it, as also the approach of his lives fatal hour, & finding that Belisa was cause thereof, purposed ere he lest the world, to be revenged, & so form he this wondrous Tent, where he enchanted the Lady, bereaving her of judgement, for the little respect she had made of his great love.  
Also he enchanted the two lovers to defend the entrance, until there were a knight so amorous and valiant, but as unhappy as either, that by vanquishing might restore them their lost liberty. And Belisa, by the Lady that without exception, best deserved the title of constant Lover, yet worse rewarded: for only this & to be fairest, must free enchanted Belisa. In the estate they be, they suffer many torments: for so pleased it Nycostrato, the more to satisfy his revenge. That knight that is favoured by Fortune, shall end the Combat, must after lead the Lady that will prove the adventure. In many courts of mighty kings have we been, hoping to find some knight to set a period to our travel: but the Princes being valiant, and the Lady very fair, none hath prevailed, no not so much as in the entrance. Almost despairing ever to find remedy for these Princes, I heard of the famous knight and beauteous Ladies of your Court. With some better hope I turned hither, which I trust will not be frustrated, considering the worthies here assembled of either kind. So I humbly beseech your Majesty, command your knights unto the proof, for no small honour shall he win that ends it.  
There were so many desirous of it, as they expected but the king's command, among them were two of the king's Cousins, both lovers and reputed valiant. Many proving the entrance, and losing it, made show of their valour, attributing their loss not to it, but to their happiness in love, and so returned with great comfort, thinking they had obtained much thereby. The Prince of Laronia, a young knight, but a notable lover, prepared himself: who drawing forth his sword, made against the two competitors, beginning a well sought combat: but after a while he retired back, unable to endure his enemies strong blows.  
No longer stayed the kings two Cousins, but one after an other made known their valour unto the beholders, yet in the end were forced to withdraw. More courageous warriors had not the King seen then those of the Tent, who in less than two hours had overcome above fifty knights, besides the strangers the chiefest of the land. Only now were left, the mighty Greek, and Astorildo: who taking his leave of the Greek (with whom he would not have no longer quarrels) drew forth his sword and marched towards the Tent. The Prince was most skilful in fence, and so marked the manner how they kept the door, where carefully fixing his eyes, flourishing aloft, let fly 2. blows one after an other. They of the Tent, stepped out toward them, which was to their evil, for he in despite of them won the entrance, whereat so many warlike instruments were heard, as if some general field were to be fought. All the Hall did verily judge he would win it: for being within, his deeds were incredible, so be labouring the Lovers, as were he a little unfortune, Galtenor, doubtless he had saved Rosabell a labour. For one of the Princes (being the beloved) going to wound him below the shield, Astorildo avoiding it, ran at him with so strong a thrust, that he tumbled him bacwards upon the steps that ascended to the Lady. Being rid of him, he might execute a blow upon the others helm, it was with such force, as he was forced to set his knees upon the ground, run to overthrow him he would, which was the loss of his battle, for the other abashed at his hap, stepped thither, and with both his hands laid on Astorildoes helm, which made him stagger, like to fall.  
An other seconded the Competitor, with no less might then that which made him set both hands and knees on the earth. They cast their arms about him, and though he a while delayed his vanquishment, in the end he was thrust out, winning more honour than any had before him.  
Now was none left but Lyriana's Princely Lover, who rising from his seat with excellent Majesty, drew forth that worthy sword that once belonged to the mightiest and greatest enemy the Greeks had. There was none, but with admiration gazed on the Britain, for his gallant carriage assured the victory. More eyes than Argos had, wished the Lady, to coat all his perfections, for she loved him dearer than her life. With furious pacing went the Greek towards the Pavilion, whence was heard, what never was before, for the signal as to a battle of several armies was sounded, with many shouts and clamours, that it drowned every one's hearing. Which being passed, with more warlike aspect the two Competitors awaighted their adversaries coming: with their swords aloft they expected him that with his accustomed courage went near them: at once they discharged 2. mighty blows, yet bigger they must be to hinder him the entrance, for with a leap, ere they could again raise their swords, he ran in between them, and meeting with the unbeloved, with his shoulders thrust him from him, fiercer than a bullet shot from a musket. With a thrust would the favourite wound him, which the Greek being (skilfuller than he) nimbly avoided, and discharged his fury on his helm. The enchantment is unable to resist the sharp edge of Hector's blade, for it cut all the top, wounding him a little on the head. Before he could settle himself, he turned upon the other, giving him a puissant blow on the shield. All that his sword reached it cast to the ground, leaving his arm with such extreme pain as he could scarce stir it.  
Exceedingly praised in the Hall was the valour of the knight of the Flowers. New baits for Eufronisa that gave ear to them, with more affection than Venus, when she met Adonis going to hunt. Yet now hath she no more to give him, having done it all afore, save constancy doth she procure to maintain, wishing him a happy victory, which was to some effect, for the Competitors came only to fight, and thereto do animate themseleus: but he that was borne in armour will not be daunted with fear, bestowing never a blow on the Lovers, but makes them with hands and knees kiss the earth. None doubts the victory, generally giving it to the Greek, that like a Lion fought between the Competitors. The unbeloved thrust at him strongly with his sword, thinking to have run him thorough, so much he made him give back, he seconded an other, which was trebled with a cruel stroke upon his head by the Favoured. Something they amazed him, and doubling their blows again, made him set one knee on the ground. Hold on him to wrestle would Belisas Lover have taken, but Rosabell refused it, giving on his head so mighty a blow, as senseless at his feet he cast him. Swifter doth not an Eagle take her flight, than he turned upon the unbeloved, and twixt his arms he raised him aloft, and breathless threw him to the earth. A greater noise did not Ilium's tower make when it fell, than was heard at the lovers fall. Overcast was the Pavilion a while with a thick fog, which being passed, it appeared as before, saving that the knights lay at the Lady's feet, that then seemed fairer, having an other Crown on her head, besides that she held in her hands. With the sound of heavenly music there also appeared the adventure of Hope, which Don Eleno discovered at Esclavonia: and at the Ladies right hand, an old man that was judged to be Nycostrato. So soon as the knights were vanquished, the ancient knight said to Rosabell.  
Most valiant knight, you may highly think of yourself, having to your immortal glory ended, what in so many years could never be attained. Now remains, that the Ladies you lead, by you do prove the adventure of the Crowns, and I hope also here to see it terminated. Every one in the hall gréeted the knight of the Flowers, with much joy: neither expressed nor thought may that be, which Eufronisa did receive, seeing what her knight with such honour had obtained, calling herself a thousand times happy, for placing her affection on him. The proof of the Crowns was begun by the ladies, with some fear, which notwithstanding was lessened by the Knight's company. One of the King's Nieces, a Lady of rare beauty, taking the Knight by the hand, said.  
I would be sorry Sir Knight, that through my company you should lose what every one knoweth your valour doth deserve. That is it I fear (fair Lady) that my unfortunate hap may debar me from the honour your beauty had assured. Which being not so great as Belisas, made her return without the Crowns: but with more glory than any other had got, having ascended to the highest step where the Lady sat. Every one proved, yet got little by it. I believe (Sir Knight) said the old man, you have attained a troublesome office by vanquishing the two amorous Knights. It is a pleasure (replied the Prince) being in service of Ladies. Now only remained Eufronisa, fearing she should not obtain the victory: judging the enchanted Princess to be fairer, yet every one was of contrary opinion, although the Arabian was very fair: but being so near him, she had impressed in her soul, added beauty to her beauty, that when she came to the tents door she seemed Angelical. She was not able, nor could she there otherwise favour her gallant, then to wring him by the hand, that if Lyriana had not been possessed of his heart, it had been no wonder if she there had made him her prisoner. With a most solemn consort of melodious harmony, were the two different Lovers received. Having entered the Pavilion, many Nymphs strewed all their way with sweet odorious flowers, of whose pleasant smell all the hall participated. With more joy did she mount the stairs (then the Carthage Dydo entered the Cave, where she found her dear Aeneus) till she came unto the top, where the princess Belisa rising, welcomed her, and taking off her Crown from her head, set it upon Eufronisas, saying. This receive most excellent Princess, as a token I acknowledge the sovereignty of your beauty over mine. And in assurance of the exceeding love I must bear you, and the extreme pain you shall endure, take this at my hands, which if you put on, when most you shall despair of comfort, this shall give it you, though short and after, pain till death. But what thereby shall ensue, shall for aye content you. And you most glorious knight, though Fortune hath hitherto most cruelly persecuted you, have courage against her changes, for you shall not return to Greece without the thing your soul most loves.  
The Lady had no sooner ended what she would say, when on a sudden the Pavilion vanished, only leaving the beloved Prince in all his judgement with the Lady. A sentence was proclaimed, whereby was gathered, that the unbeloved Lord in recompense of his saith, so ill repaid, went to accompany amorous Celio, in the Castle of Hope. Every one rejoiced thereat: for his love to Belisa merited some reward. Who was most courteously entertained by the King with her beloved Prince, exceeding joyful to be at liberty, in company of his Lady, that assured his happiness with a kind look.  
The Ladies entreated the Greek to unloose his helm: he refused it, till Eufronisa with a wink did bid him. He obeyed, which more alured the Lady, his beauty increased as much admiration as his valour, for being heated by the battle, it was the greater. Some there was that said, it equalled the Ladies, and having as yet no beard, and being like his mother, no marvel if it were so compared, making the Ladies envious of his graces. Among them he sat him down with the greatest content he ever received, excepting that his Lady gave him, when she received him as her husband, although he lost her at the instant. There discoursed he with them, some demanding who he was, others, whether he was in love, and others where his Lady was. With such wit, and discretion he answered them all, as he greatly gained their good wills. With her eyes did Eufronisa speak to him, till the nights approach made him take his leave of the king, whose importunities could not make him stay. Softly did the Lady remember him of his promise of Belisa and her Lover, he craved leave, leaving them much bound unto him, he demanded of the knight of the Griffon, whether he would stay there or no, for he could do no otherwise but depart. So far in love was Astorildo, that he answered.  
Sir knight, in my soul I would be glad of your company, grieving that I ever crossed you in your words: but at this time I am forced for a while to abide in this country, until I be advertised the contrary from mine: and if in any thing my person or what I have may do you service, be assured I will perform it with my life. The Greek gratefully accepting his offer, departed out of the Palace, and on his lusty Courser went out of the city, minding being more darker, to return and keep his promise. How he accomplished it, the next at large relateth.   

CHAP. XVI. How the Prince Rosabell returned to the city, and what befell him, with the Princess Eufronisa.  
WHere I have hitherto implored the favour of your desired aid (most fair and only worthy to be most fair Ladies) to prosecute this story to record of your fames, the imaginary grant thereof, having brought me to this stay, doubts his sufficiency farther to proceed, unless it be anew allowed, and sealed with a pardon, which for your own sakes, gentleness and pity, I hope for myself I shall obtain, being but the interpreter of my Author's offence, committed by the Greek, against your search: although it was done by him, constrained by her, to assuage the burning fire of Eufronisas' love, and to remove the desperate violent passions of the same. Whose reading (oh think then how you have pardoned me) craveth such extenuation, as patiently you will not deny: for his return will offend your beauties, violating plyted faith to Lyriana, by which injury, your worths cannot but receive some detriment. And so coming to the place appointed him by Selia, he left his horse among the trees, to feed alone masterless: although he was not long without one, for being so good, he did not little esteem him, that took him thence. But Rosabell went strait unto the lady's garden, and knocking at the door, Selia opened it, saying.  
Now are you worthy greater estimation knight of the Flowers, th●● you would so willingly come and observe your word, which I may attribute to your sufficient virtues.  
far unworthy of favour were he (fair damoiselle) that would not know what happiness by doing it is obtained. Why thou come with me (said she) for I'll commit you to better hands than mine, and since you have this day displeased me, proving of the Crowns, do not marvel, if I should put you in such a prison, as jupiter would not leave the Empire of the heavens to live in it. Any thing proceeding from you (gentle Lady) I'll accept as a favour (answered the Greek) being assured, that since you know my will, you will not be against my content, which I shall esteem most great, to work yours. And they arrived at the Lady's lodging, where they were forced to silence, lest they should be heard, and the Prince took off the armour from his legs. So went they even where Eufronisa did expect him fairer than Diana, yet so abashed and fearful, that though she saw him, yet could not speak. But from her weakness she drew strength to say, embracing him, now Love began to help her. I would not (valiant knight) have you attribute this my boldness, to more than to requite what I am indebted to you, having this day to your high honour, most nobly honoured our court, where myself also had part (through your valour) of the glorious end of the adventure.  
In eternal records of living memory to succeeding ages shall this remain, together with this my wanton deed, if it be known. He replied. There nothing happened this day (most sovereign Princess) but was achieved under the name of your excellent beauty. And therefore, undergoing it as yours, what difficulty could happen, which I might not vanquish, to eternize your glories. Ay me (strange Coriolano) were I assured thereof, what torment were so great, which I should not account a pleasure and most sweet. But oh cruel grief, it is thou that hast conspired with my malignant stars, to make me explain my will before I know how it will be accepted. Exceedingly content rested I, seeing you at the Fountain, and conceived such delight, that therewith I live, and ever shall possess this mansion of my life: but if you knew or would understand, with what pains & griefs it was intermixed, there were no heart of Diamond, walled with Adamant, but would pity my distress.  
She there ended, raining down her crystal ruby cheeks, such a shower of liquid pearl, as it expressed her soul's sorrow. It was not unconsidered by the Britain youth, for he was M. of loves school. A thousand times cursed he himself, complaining against the blind guidress of unhappiness, revolving many inconveniences, the least whereof were worse than death: for if he yield to the Ladies will, he sees the wrong he offers to his Lyriana, and if he do it not, he fears she is resolved for aye to keep him there. Both things he ponderated wisely in his mind, yet could not choose which he might do, or how to excuse himself. Notwithstanding of these evils he took the less, yet greatest, choosing rather to suffer a living death, then to offend his dear Lyriana: and so he answered contrary to her expectation thus. I cannot but confess (most excellent Princess) how much you desire to favour me, altogether immeritable of your benefits, and if ending the adventure in your name, may be thought any service, for ever be it happy for bringing me to this estate, wherein if my worthless life sacrificed to confirm your content, may be any sign of thankfulness, behold me here ready to yield it. With a heavy sigh the Lady answered. Woe be to thee unfortunate Eufronisa, since in thy tenderest years thou haste begun to feel the bitter changes of inconstant Fortune. Sure, sure I am, I shall remain an example to all posterities through this unseemly act, made worse by thy uncivil usage. I do not require you cruel knight, nor will not have you hazard your life in now dangers of new enterprises, only I request, seeing I love, (oh Gods that I should say so) you would do the like. Most fair of fairest Ladies (replied the afflicted youth) I am yours, and as such a one dispose of me, for none with more will shall procure your content. But yet do not bestow your sacred faithful love on so mean a knight as I, both in conditions, blood, and estate, the which neither your Princely honour, fame, nor dignity, doth allow, nor myself, seeing and knowing your losing choice, bound by deserts unto your worthiness may permit, without infringing the constant laws of faith, hospitality, and thankfulness. The which rather than I will commit, these my hands will I stain with my own blood: for where there is such inequality of deserts, I should be hated and abhorred of all men, so to accomplish your languishing desire, and therefore have patience (beauteous Princess) for there is nothing better than it, to tolerate these hasty accidents in love.  
Oh inhuman cruelty (said the weeping Lady) how much dost thou extend thy power against me? what avails it thee, hard hearted knight, to procure my honour, by giving me a most untimely death? So shalt thou rather be called an homicide, than a man servitor of Ladies: well, well I wots, that my over liberal giving thee my heart, moves thee to this strangeness, knowing there is no reason in that breft where Love commandeth: which were it in me, I could not but see the increase of my honour by being silent: but with such vehemency was my pain augmented, as I could no longer conceal it. And if thou knowest what it is to love, this canst thou not judge strange, when true affection could never yet be limited, and mine exceeding all others, forceth me to say: I only live to love thee.  
Here she paused, unable to proceed further, nor the Prince to reply, the one intercepted by the grief the poor soul endured: and the other, to see he caused it by being so obstinate and unrelenting to her requests. In the greatest confusion of the world was the Prince in, to see the Lady, so determined and amorous, and he himself bereft of possibility to help her. I hope most beauteous Eufronisa (said the Greek) this conceived anger against me will be pacified, knowing how long since, and afore this time, Tyrant Love had made me his tributary vassal, delighting from mine infancy with those that were touched with this evil, and if the consideration hereof may move you knowing my weakness, to satisfy your desire, I hope you will desist from making yourself guilty of dishonour. Aim (cruel knight answered she) now I'll not so much complain of thy disdain, as of my own lightness, seeing what a capital and heinous crime I have thereby committed, not only 'gainst me, (yet that is no matter) but against all Ladies in the world beside, that only for the name deserve to be sued and entreated. But I (ay me, that I) as ill accounting of that name, as of my pure honour, have yielded to loves triumph: rather become a suitor, then reserve myself to be sued unto. And yet do not you think, but I perceive your mind is still busied, imagining on an others absence, this and many other things I know by experience, since I first and last saw you at the fountain. I do confess it all, and also my reputations' wrack, but a resolved mind in constancy, cannot leave lo love, nor will I otherwise, though it triple my sorrows eternally.  
For this I did entreat thy help, and for this requested thy good will. But for all I am denied all; I will till death persist in this my pure love, and hope for no remedy, evermore complaining alike of myself, as of thy most inhuman barbarous cueltie. And therewith fling out of the chamber, bathing her cheeks in water of her eyes. She sent him by Selia some juncates of her own making to refresh him with, for she knew he had eaten nothing all that day. She entreated him to be answerable to the Princess love, though it were but feigned, for according to the grief that hath possessed her, I doubt she will not live till morning: and consider what by her death will be imputed to you, when you shall be called the murderer of so fair a Lady. I would to God (gentle Damsel) said he, it were in my power to redress the Princess grief: but you know, being heretofore sworn another's, it is impossible I should pleasure her, without committing the greatest fault that ever knight hath none. I will no more importune you (said the damsel) for I should think myself much injuried with your disdain: how much than a Princess so fair and honourable. That is it (replied the Greek) which hinders me: for should I do what she requires, it were but to satisfy her will against mine, which were the greatest wrong that might be done her, for having pawned my faith unto another, I cannot violate it to pleasure her.  
The damsel returned to her Lady, leaving the Prince the most perplexed in the world, seeing himself in place where he could not use his valour. Selia found the beauteous Eufronisa tumbling on her bed, drowned in tears. What sayest thou my dear Selia (said she to her) to the tyranny wherewith that cruel knight doth use me? what means may I use? I myself know it not, nor do think there is any? and to desist to love him, thou seest is impossible: for neither my affection will permit, nor am I able to let it. She spied near her the Crowns she had won, and with a sigh that seemed to end her life, said. Oh glorious rewards to increase my harms, you were the sole cause of my unhappiness. Now that she thought the Greek to be in bed, not able to be quiet, she went alone unto his chamber, whose sight made the Prince offer quickly to rise, she stayed him, saying. I'll not have thee use me with any of these ceremonious courtesies, nor is my coming for them (thou cruelest knight that ever the heavens did create) but only do I come, not to entreat of thee what thou shouldest of thyself procure, hadst thou thy perfect judgement, save to demand of thee two things, for with either of them shall I receive some comfort, and believe me, they be not to thy prejudice, for were they, I would not require them.  
Most worthy Princess, I nothing more desire of Fortune answered he) then to have that occasion offered, wherein I might endanger my life in your service, and would to God by losing it, I might cure your woes, than should you see with what willingness I would cast it on a squadron of death's darts: therefore demand (fair Lady) what you will, for I will at the instant accomplish it, being with the conditions you propounded. Without them (most cruel Knight said she) who durst require any thing of thee, seeing thy strangeness and barbarous disdain so extreme against me. The first thing therefore that for me thou must do, is, to tell me who thou art, and the Lady's name to whom thou hast rendered that freely will of thine? The second thing I'll demand, this being known, for seeing I must be disdained and forlorn, I will know whom I love, and for whom I am not loved. Your excellency (sacred Princess) so far urgeth this matter, that I cannot think (replied Rosabell) why you will know the thing, that being known, I am sure will but augment your woes. They cannot be greater than them I have already (did she answer) and therefore you must not break with me, unless you will be as disloyal, as cruel. I am content to do it (said he) though sure I am of your hate when you know me, but that I may give some ease unto your griefs, I will keep promise. Know therefore (divine Lady) I am Rosabel of Britain, son to the Greek Prince Rosicle●, and his Princess Olivia, espoused unto Lyriana Princess of Nyquea, and he that in nothing will take more felicity, then to procure your content. But will you not (excellent Princess) force me being so enraged, to break that faith I vowed on her hands to be true Lover. And now may you see what reason moved me to be so obdurate, finding that any remedy from me, can but dishonour you.  
And is it possible knight (said she) that you are son to the famous knight of Cupid, whose worthy deeds and loves have with immortal fame filled all the world, Well, had I no other cause, but that you are son to such a father, it were sufficient to make me love you till death.  
I only entreat your leave, being alone & oppressed with these extreme passions, I may disburden my cares, by seeing the unhappy Eufronisa is yours, for so I shall receive some rest. Whereto he answered. Most sovereign Lady, Princess of Sylepsia, you see what little power is in me, to grant you that licence, for having no interest in myself, I cannot without her will grant any such thing. Then (said she) tell me where she keeps, for I'll send to her for it?  
So envious hath fortune been to my content, that yet that I cannot say, not knowing it, because she rest her from my hands. Well, well, (replied the Lady, chopping her words in the middle, and drowning them with tears) because I ask, I see it is impossible I should know it, lest I might receive some little comfort thereby. And since the earth cannot afford me any, the second thing that you for me must do, since you have promised it, and vowed by the faith of a knight, is, that with this dagger you bereave me of my despised life, seeing your sight gave me so many deaths: do not deny it, for you have promised it, and if you do, be sure I'll travel through the world, proclaiming your disloyalty.  
And so she drew forth a dagger from under her gown, and with manly courage she put it in his hands, saying. Through my breast hew forth a passage for my soul (most cruel knight) and yet I will not have you make the wound upon my heart, lest you should hurt yourself, modelde in the midst thereof. The Greek took it, so amazed, that he knew not where he was. But the resolute Lady immediately discovered her breasts, the purest work that ever nature wrought. Make an end thou fellon-stealer of my liberty, to give me some content by this expected death, and slain with blood this constant object of thine eyes.  
Oh rare force of love (fair Ladies) whose power consisting on extremes, makes all things else seem madness, being compared to it. Oh, who would not be moved, seeing the Greek holding the dagger in his hand, sitting on his bed, yet ranging with his thoughts on Lyriana, and the Lady urging him to hasten the deadly stroke? Oh cruel inexecable knight (said she) will't thou yet in this torment me? make an end at once, with one sweet death to end the many I suffer, Rosabell being the sole cause. In not doing this (most Princeless Lady) I neither commit disloyalty (said the Prince) nor break my word, for I'll rather lose my life, then spill yours. So exceeding great was the grief that suddenly surprised her, that stopping her breath, and benumbing all her arteries and usual powers, she fell on the Greeks breasts. The greatest proof of constancy was this, that ever knight was tried withal, and had he continued it, no doubt but the example of itself had been a sufficient memorating marble to record a deed so famous. I do not wonder if he began something to yield, and join his face to hers, (fairer than Apollo's) half resolved to accomplish her request. Ere he was fully determined, which wanted but little, she recovered herself, and seeing she was so used, conceived an unhoped joy, feeling the heat of his cheeks on hers, nevertheless with many sighs she said. How is it possible, tell me knight, thou shouldest still harbour such cruelty, as suffer me to languish in such pain, which thou mayest remedy by taking away the life I abhor? That thou wert cruel and inexorable, far more than Hyrcanian beasts, poor hapless Eufronisa knows it long sithence by experience. But that thou wantest loyalty and faith to observe thy word, who can believe it of so mighty a Prince? I do confess (fair Princess) answered he, I do offend myself not doing it, yet the offence is greater against both, and worthily I then deserve the title of a cruel homicide: but that you may not longer complain of me, grant time till to morrow, to be resolved in those extremes, and then I will reply to your content. It pleaseth me (answered she) although one days stay will I fear kill me outright, with this vehement and cruel grief. But I must suffer, being borne to do it, and you disloyal and faithless knight, consider well what you determine, for seeing you have denied me death, these hands shall be guilty of it in your sight, when your prevention shall want speed to stay my execution. And thereupon she went away, where had she stayed, and once again urged it, no longer than that instant had been enough to answer, for the Greek resembled his Grandfather in these affairs: he had already pondered the Lady's beauty and her woorthes, in such sort, that some of her distilling tears mollifying his obdured heart with such tenderness, that he forgot Lyriana. His light vanished with her absence. With many wishes he desired the happy appointed night. Little did he strive with his thoughts how to be resolved, for ere she went away, was the haughty Britain in mind agreed. With more rest stéepes Eufronisa then Rosabell.  
Accidents be these ordered by the blind God, understood of none but him, although the soul suffers them, and yet cannot he, nor will conceive by whose appointment it happens: a just reward for his disloyalty, since nothing should have been able to make him err against his dear Lyriana, that with such generosity received him for her espouse, her Lord and husband. The Lady returned glad with the hope of her expected good to Selia, and told her every thing that happened. With some content they entertained the expectation of her joy. By chance, and it was a happy chance, the Lady took one of the crowns that she had won in the Tent, and set it on her head, it was that which Belisa gave her, to comfort her in her distress. Having it on, she seemed far more beautiful, and somewhat elder. The virtue of the Crown began his operation. Selia was amazed, and plucking her by the arm, said. Be still (Madam) for see the fairest adventure in the world, for this Crown hath power to disguise the face, and believe me, you are not like Eufronisa. Peace fool (said the Lady) it is but loves devise, and thy wits conceits. Then do not credit me (replied Selia) but the evidence wherewith I prove it. So she fetched her a looking-glass, and setting it before her, said. Here (Madam) may you see the crowns effect. She could not but laugh, seeing her countenance altered, and between them both they jarred, whether she so were fairest or not. Then she remembered belisa's words in the Tent, that there she should find remedy in her greatest necessity. She could not imagine whose semblance she represented. They would no longer defer the knowledge of so happy business: so hand in hand they went into a gallery, called the Lady's Treasury, because therein were the pictures of most in the world. This was a curiosity the king for his pleasure had made. Many they saw most fair, and they were those that in Grecia then flourished: but passing further, they perceived their deceit, finding Lyriana, whose beauty she possessed. They read the title, which told them she was Princess of Nyquea, to the greatest joy that ever Eufronisa did conceive. She embraced Selia, saying.  
Oh my Selia, the heavens now will take my part, for know, the Lady that hath captivated this knight, is she whom I represent having on this Crown: and by this devise, mean I (nothing thanking him) to fulfil my desire, although he have promised me an answer to morrow. And if I can, with this deceit I'll crave no answer, seeing it must come with so many pains and groans. And see my Selia, how my suspicion at the fountain is verified, that he was not him he said, for he is son unto the famous knight of Cupid, and betrothed to this Princess, and so I think I may stand excused for this my boldness.  
Well knew she it, that in the enchanted Tent told me, that though thereby I should obtain greatest good, yet would it be intermixed with infinite troubles. joyfully returned the two Ladies unto their chamber, expecting the next morn, to deceive him that was already deceived, repenting him of the disdain he showed. The new crowned Lady entered his lodging, to give him the good time of the day. The Greek had scarce seen her, when falling in the deceit, he took her to be Lyriana, and with great tenderness he ran to her, saying. May it be dear Lady, that in time of such sorrow you would be pleased to glad my heart with your presence. How ill should I requite your love dear Lord (said the mistaken Lady) if I did not procure your content, being able as at this time, and though I be with you, yet none knows of it.  
The Greek Lover embraced her, thinking he enjoyed his lyriana's company, which made Eufronisa most glad to see the effect of the pleasant deceit. What happened by this meeting, is left to honest consideration. Only Galtenor saith, the Lady forgot her pains, enjoying many days the fruition of the Greek lovers bed under that devise, telling him that a wise man her great friend, had for some time fetched her out of the enchantment, to accompany him in that distress. Much bound did the Prince think himself to him for so good a turn. So far wrought the virtue of the Crown, that all the time she enjoyed him by that deceit, the Greek could comprehend no more, but took what Fortune offered him.  
At length Eufronisa judging it reason to let him go, feeling herself with child, conferred with Selia that approved it. She took off the Crown, kissing it a thousand times, for having enjoyed by it her heart's content. She had no sooner set it by the other, when it was presently taken away, not knowing by whose hands.  
A voice she heard, which thus comforted her. Have patience Lady, for the heavens will have it so, and till you know the fruit that by this deceit shall rise, never look to see it more.  
So soon as it was taken away, the Greek thought all that he had passed but a dream, having scarce the remembrance thereof. What time he had so spent he knew not, but stayed for the Ladies coming to give her his answer, which she determined to refuse, because she would not be bound unto him for it. She entered his chamber with her damsel, thus speaking. How are you determined (most cruel knight of the Flowers) that according to your resolution, she may live that loves you. He answered. I am sure (excellent Princess) you have had time to consider the wrong you do me, to enforce me break my word: yet I am yours, and will be till the death, and so may you dispose of me at your pleasure. Whereto she thus returned. Ever since (most glorious Prince of Greece) that Fortune or the powers of Love made my heart obedient to your will, I only procured but a grant from your mouth, by so many means as you have seen, solely devised to affect you, and that you might know I love you. And since you are assured thereof, and now to comfort my sorrows in your absence, I will have you leave with me some remembrance, and let it be your dagger, for which you shall have mine, that wherewith I entreated you to end my life, which now I'll keep to employ it in your love: and believe me (brave Prince) while this soul shall have power to breath, this affection shall never decay.  
And therewith, with exceeding joy she embraced him, and taking his poniard, she gave him hers, bidding him prepare his departure against the next morning. The Prince did so, somewhat abashed to have been so importuned. He took his leave of the Ladies not without many tears, for trust me, he was beloved in the highest degree that ever knight was. A very rich jewel the Lady gave him at his departure. All armed in precious armour, and mounted on a lusty Courser, given him by Eufronisa, he went out of the famous City of Golthuerge, whose departure she took most heavily: yet some comfort she conceived to be big with child by him.  
Strait the two Ladies began to devise how they might keep close Eufronisas' travel, who being a stranger to such matters, grieved thereat. Only this consolation she took, to look from the top of a high turret towards Grecia, whither her joy was gone, calling it a heavy land to bring forth such fruit.  
Thus this beauteous Lady passed away the season until her time of delivery, which being the first, she felt extremely. She was delivered of two boys, the fairest that the heavens created: for he which was first brought forth, had on the face of a Lady, fairer than the suns Splendour in his pride. The other a heart thrust through with a dagger, with the wound so fresh as it seemed then to bleed. Selia showed them her, saying. Rejoice fair Princess, with the issue sprung from that deceit, which is such, that it frees you from any fault. The tender mother embraced and kissed them, saying. Oh, may the powerful heavens dear children of my heart, let you live to know your warlike father: for though he used me with all cruelty, yet are you his sons. Bless you may the Gods, & make you as happy as I am unhappy, although I may now call myself the happiest on the earth, only by being your mother. So careful Selia, took them away, and through a secret door in the garden, she gave them to the old ancient knight, to see them nursed in some Village. At their carriage away, a thousand kisses and blessings did the loving mother give them, as divining the long time she should be ere again she saw them.  
With much care did the old knight carry them to a Village, where he had prepared a nurse for them. That he might pass more covertly, he cros● the Forest, bearing the children in two baskets on a little Ass, by the way he rested, and took down the boys to quiet them from crying. Scarce had he done, when a chased Lion ran thitherward, being hunted by shepherds, with their dogs. The knight's age and the lions sight, put him in such fear as he fell down in a trance. As then the cruel beast meant not to take any pray, but to escape his pursuers.  
In this manner lay the old man and the children crying for hunger, when by great chance a mighty Lord dwelling on the confines of Sylepsia, past that way with his wife, that had been at the City to to see the triumphs there. With them was an ancient Lady, lately delivered of a child, that died in Golthuerge. So soon as the Lords wife saw the children, and having none herself, took such affection on the babes, seeing their wonderful beauty, that she commanded the other Lady carefully to nurse and bring them up.  
In this manner were these two Infants carried by this Lord, and tendered as his own. He that had the Lady's face, they named Clarabell. And the other with the wounded heart, Leobello. Who so grew in years and beauty, that they were accounted children of the Gods.  
Where we will leave them, nourished by the good Knight Sergio, for so was he called, omitting also their afflicted mother's sorrow for their loss: and a while must remember the mighty despairing knight Claridiano of the Sphere, already departed from Croatia.   

CHAP. XVII. What adventure the Prince Claridiano met in the isle of Crect, where he disinchaunted his Uncle Claramant.  
FOr a while (fair Ladies) I am constrained to leave loves amorous discourses, and trust me, with some grief: but having to treat of many things, I must describe them with divers styles. And now the warlike Greek, with an Adamantive power, attrackts me to lighten him from the dark centre of oblivion: who departing from the most beauteous Venus, and gallant Laysa, launched into the Adriatic sea, down the which, he Navigated four days: and the fift, he crossed into the African, and happening on no adventure deserving memory, he put into the Carpachian and Egeum seas: where sailing some fifteen days, his enchanted Bark ran itself on land, in the isle of Crete, (now Candy) the happiest and fertilest in all those parts, because jove was borne and reigned there.  
A shore leapt he and Palisandro his Squire, and landed their horses. The commonest way that they could judge, they took, and did ride above an hour, meeting with none to learn in what land they were. Under a high Pine they dismounted to rest and pass the heat of the afternoon, eating of such provision as Palisandro had carried from the Bark.  
The pleasantness of the country much delighted the Prince, although it was such little comfort to the pains he suffered, that were it not for Palisandros' consolations, he had without doubt run into excessive dangers.  
As he sat down, certain shepherds came that way, driving their flocks to feed on the downs, below a hillock near to that place. They told him, how he was in the famous I'll of Crect, of which he had heard so many things. It much pleased him, to hear the shepherd's name the adventure of the three Pipes: for though he had heard thereof, he never knew it to be in Crete: to be assured thereof, he demanded of them thus. Can you tell me discreet shepherds, the beginning of this adventure? who made it, and for whom? That which now is said thereof (Sir Knight) is, that not many years since, this adventure appeared here, where (it is said) there is only one of the famousest Princes of the world enchanted: whose strength is also given out far to exceed Theseus, so celebrated in this isle, for killing of the Minotaur. So difficult is the entrance to the Fountain, called of the three Pipes, that none, though many mighty knights procured it, have arrived thither. Only there is one entrance, so surely guarded, as it is thought impossible to pass that way by force of arms, all the rest is immured with so high a wall of stones, cut so smooth, that there is no ascending nor entrance, but through the difficult passage, which is a little beneath your hill. I do greatly thank you (kind shepherds) for your courteous relation, and will requite it in any thing I may.  
So they went away, leaving him conferring with his squire about the proving thereof, for he much desired to know the Prince that was within. The squire would not gainsay it, knowing his valour sufficient for greater matters.  
Then having a while rested, they followed the shepherd's direction, within a little time they came in sight of the stupendious Edefice. Never before had the Prince seen a thing more worthy admiration than it: for it seemed to check the most highest Clouds. The passage to it, was along a fair Valley, a stones cast in length, whose entrance was through a Lane of mighty trees, whose innumerable thick branches joining together, did well declare the difficult passage.  
Without any fear Trebatio's haughty Nephew arrived thither, not far fro the Grove that leaded to the Fountain, of which the adventure took his name. The breadth of the way that the Prince went, would suffer but sir knights to go it together: the which, as one prepared to the fight, the mighty youth traced. So coming to the end of the Lane where the Valleys entrance began, he was not so amazed with the battle he had against the hellish beast at Merlin's sepulchre, as seeing here one of the fearfullest winged Serpents that might be. He stayed himself, to bethink him by what means he might combat with the ugly monster. In the end he resolved to be best on foot, the better to use his nimbleness and weapons, so did he dismount, giving Palisandro his horse, and taking his Lance in his hand, and with his heart in heaven, he marched towards the infernal monster: the which seeing him come, stretched herself on the ground, and raising half her body, hissing fearfully, crept against the Greek, who with that discreetness he used in all his affairs, settling himself strongly on his left leg, hurled his Lance at her. Upon her inpenitrable scales wherewith she was armed, it fell, rebounding back as if it had lighted upon a Rock. Nevertheless, it made her bend her head as low as the ground. With a nimble leap he got within the beasts cabin, where there began such hideous outcries, that he was about a thousand times to turn back, but judging it base cowardice, with his sword drawn he expected the serpents coming. Never was that I'll witness of a more braver Combat. In it the Greeks dexterity avails him, for the edge of his sword can make no impression in her. He found it, when at his first assault, he gave her a mighty blow on the scales. Whipping the earth with her tail, came the furious Serpent against the Greek youth: and being near him, with her mouth he would have hoist him aloft: he defended himself stepping aside, so scaping her claws, but not her tail, wherewith she gave him such ayerke, that she flung him far without the entrance he had won.  
More furious than she rysed the Greek Hercules bruised with the fall, and with hasty paces he ran again unto the entrance, but there he found the Serpent. Fearless, the valiant Greek approached to her, holding his sword sure between his hands. He had scarce made an offer, when the devilish furious Serpent snatched at his shield with one of her fangs, dragging him thereby, within her enchanted pale, until she broke the girts. It grieved not the Prince to be there, nor yet to have lost his shield, but with his sword in both hands, stayed for her that furiously came flying to him; she stretched forth her paw to take him with her sharp claws. With much heed the Prince expected her, and being near, with a flourish, he gave her a most strong blow. It was venturous, and that which gave him the victory. For discharging it very near her breast, where the scales were not so hard, it mortally wounded her. No hellish fury is now comparable to her being wounded, for striking the earth, she flew to the Greek, whose courage and strength could not now defend him from her tail: for therewith she struck him to the ground, where also he could not scape her talents. His armour saved his life, though some of the joints ran into his flesh. The Greek in this extremity forgot not his dagger, which drawing forth with his left hand, he stabbed it thrice under her neck, with which wounds she let him go. But she had no sooner done it, when she returned upon him, opening wide her infernal mouth. He strongly held his left arm, and holding the point of his dagger upwards, he ran it into her mouth, whereon she thinking to pray, twixt her jaws, she thrust it into her brains. With some trouble the Greek drew it forth, glad of the good success: yet before he got clear, or that she fell, with her tail she gave him the last yerk, in such manner, that had she been able to second an other, he had been in great danger. He fell on the ground, voiding much blood through his mouth. The like to that the Greek Lover never had received. He rose, because carelessly he would not lose what his valour assured. And saw the serpent weltering in her own gore, till by little and little she died, to the Greeks exceeding content: who to rest, sat him down under a lofty oak that grew in the end of that Lane, and took off his helm to take the air, that then freshly blue. On the bark of the Oak he saw a scroll, which he read thus.  To thee Knight, whom Fortune hath so favoured, as overcoming the fearful keeper of the entrance unto the three piped Fountain to let thee here arrive to rest, have courage, for it must end what yet doth want. 
The words did not so much fear him, as the doubt whether he should have to do with knights on whom he might better show his valour. Long would not archysilora's Lover rest, for presently rising he took his shield, and casting it at his back, went down the Valley. Great comfort did he receive with the birds sweet harmony that welcomed him, where Philomela's sad complaints increased his, and the Larks sweet song (the morning's Herald) eased his travel. A more pleasanter place the Prince had never seen, for besides the flowery Tapestry, the diversity of all manner of fruitful trees were so many, and in such order placed, that Nature mistress of invention, seemed there to strive with Art (the adorner of her wants) for sovereignty.  
Every thing the prince considered not, omitting the dear remembrance of his soul's commandress, fair Archysilora. He made such haste, that about the second hour after midday, he arrived to the famous Fountain, whose proud making, much amazed him. For the Pipes through which the water ran, were three mighty savages, cut in Alabaster, whiter than the snow (upon the Apennineses) all guilded and inamelled. Under the three pipes was a fair great Cistern, where she little birds flew to drink. Before it stood a brazen Pillar with this insciption.  The unknown Castle shall be seen by none, until the despairing Lion, freeing the passage to his own bloods cost, shall arrive unto this Pillar: where to pass forward, he must leave here some piece of his Armour. 
The Prince a good while doubted which it should be. In the end he resolved to leave his shield. He hung it on the Pillar, and strait went on, discovering before him the stately buildings, so high, that they seemed to reach unto the middle region of the air, it was all so covered with Gold, that it scarce admitted any sight. There was but one door, the which the Prince found fast locked, whereat with the pummel of his sword he knocked very hard. At the noise, a window opened above the gate, out of which there looked a Lady all in Armour, saving the head. The sight astonished the Greek, thinking it was Archysilora, who with some anger, said. What seek you (audacious Knight) for none may enter here, but that lives to love without hope? half trembling, the Prince answered. I do confess, how I offend you (most excellent Queen of Lyra) by demanding a reward for my faith sacrificed to thy gallantness: but yet if with death or endless dishonour you will still be revenged on me, appoint the manner of the vilest death you can, and I will be he that shall most willingly perform that sacrifice.  
It is well knight (replied the Lady) now you have committed a fault, you think by confession to extenuate your describe punishment. So overcome with contemplation of his Lady stood the Greek, that he heard not the opening of the gate, with as much horror, as if a peal of ordinance were discharged. Through it, came forth two Knights richly armed: and also after them, followed the beauteous Claramant, appareled in cloth of Gold, whose presence would have made Narcissus leave his self-love to stay and dote on him.  
Having their Lances in their rests, and as swift as the wind, they ran against the careless Prince, that was busied gazing on his beloved Archysilora. So valiant were his two adversaries, and so desirous to hit him, that they lost not their encounters, which were so mighty and sudden, that when he would have warded them, he found himself on the ground, so sore bruised with the fall, that he could not rise when he would. So eager is not an Eagle to defend he younglings, as the Knights turned upon the Prince, and both at once again hit him, but being warned by the former negligence, stoutly resisted them, that they could not overthrow him, but made him stagger backwards. So skilful were the Knights of the Castle, that the one seeing the ill success of their encounter, like a second Mars, fling his Lance at him. He missed him: for in the midst of his amorous breast, he gave him the greatest blow that ever he received, and was forced to stay himself with his left hand on the ground. Never before did the Prince judge himself in more danger, seeing the knights so active and strong.  
They could not so prevail with their dexterity, but the Greek with his, reached him that hurled his Lance, such a blow, that senseless he struck him on his horse neck. He ran to pluck him down, but he was stayed in the attempt: for the other knowing he could not come in time to rescue him, settled himself on his stirrups, and out of his arm let his Lance fly, like a kill Comet: it struck him on the one side of the closing of his armour, where Galtenor saith, it wounded him a little: but Lirgandeo affirmeth, he was felled to the earth, yet howsoever he could not perform his attempt: for all he much procured it. Now the two companions being spearelesse, drew forth two swords unequalled in all the world, and with them arrived upon the Greek, that expected them: A flourish discharged one upon his helm, which he grievously felt, and the other somewhat lower thrust at him fiercely: which he dearly did abye: for Claridiano more furious than thundering lightning, avoided it stepping aside, leaving him hanging upon his horse. Thinking to have slain him, with both hands he laid on his shoulders. The Prince imagined he had cleft him in the midst, but he could not be vanquished on horseback: who therefore returned with more courage than before, and began to help one another against the Prince, with such strength and lightness, as he thought himself in manifest danger, doubting the event of the battle. So one assaulted him with his Courser's swiftest course, which carreir he lost: for archisilora's Lover a little yielding sideways, cast his strong arms about him, and maugre all his forces, pulled him from his saddle to the ground, much glad thereof, for so he might better deal with them. Who were so instructed to aid one an other, that he which was on foot, would neither lose nor step from Claridiano, till he saw his companion run at him, and then with a swinge he turned him against the horse breast, who encountered him so strongly, that he made him stumble backwards like to fall.  
And more to help him down, he on foot thrust at him in his amaze, two such strong points, that Claridiano never did what he was now enforced unto, for neither courage nor valour prevailing, he fell down. But like Anteus touching on the earth, he rose fresher and fiercer, that he on horseback escaped not free for his encounter: for as he turned, Claridiano as wrathful as a hungry Lion, let drive at him with so puissant a blow, that whether he would or no, he field him from his Saddle down to the grassy plain: where it added pleasure to content, seeing the fortunate and unconquered Greek enter, and retire as he would. Wearied he had them, although himself was no less: for they of the Castle were of the valiantest in the world, and about that matter, would not refuse Mars his challenge.  
Crossing his sword inwards, the one assaulted the Greek, it was but an offer, for going toward it, he stayed his arm, and bearing it lower, struck him on the legs, and on the left thigh he gave him the greatest blow that he had received in all that battle: for though it did not wound him, yet it put him in such pain that he could not stir that leg. The good effect of the stroke, perceived they of the Castle, and that they might take the advantage, before the pain left him, they began to hammer him with more strength and speed, than the Cyclopes did when they forged Aeneas Armour. The Prince much feared being so lame, but seeing it concerned him no less than his life, dragging that leg, performed wonders.  
The first Battle that ever Claramant had seen was this: the which he judged to himself would be the last, so fierce and terrible it was. He said, more cunning skill nor valour could not be wished in one knight, then what he in the yellow showed. It was a matter worthy the Prince, for as he was, he never suffered them to close within him, though they nothing else procured, still keeping them out with his untolerable cruel blows, which made them kiss the earth, sometimes with their hands, and then with their knees. And again other times, all at once.  
In the end he fling at him that had wounded him: quick he was, but archysilora's Champion was possessed with extremest of his rage, and therefore reached him on the top of his Helm, in such manner, that in despite of him, he tumbled him on the green breast of his mother earth. At him with a thrust ran the other, which Claridiano striking aside, he struck him with both hands on his arms, that he could no more use his sword. He closed with him, and hoisting him from the ground, fling him down on his back, near where his Companion was. Upon them with his naked Dagger busseled the Lover: for having exceedingly incensed him, he forgot the pity and accustomed clemency which he used towards his vanquished.  
Before him stepped the beauteous Claramant, saying. To end a Combat with death (most valiant knight) whose conquest is so manifest, will rather blemish the Victor's victory, then dignify his fame: Wherefore I pray you, give me those Knights as by you are vanquished.  
The haughty Greek lifted up his head to answer him, for through the anger of the fight, he had not noted the Donzell. So looking on him now, he was astonished, thinking he saw himself: for were he a little elder, none could have distinguished them, nor yet from the Emperor Alphebo, for they resembled so much one another, that in the beginning he verily judged him to be his father, which opinion his tender years frustrated. And yet supposing him some kinsman of his, did grant it, and would have done had it been far more. But that was enough, had he been any other then Claridiano, to make him never return to Greece. For scarce had the Donzell raised them with his hand, when as fresh as in the beginning, they let fly at him, together two such blows, that they made him kneel on the ground.  
It extremely grieved him to be so mocked, yet was not he angry against the Donzell, imagining through lack of judgement he had done it. He animated himself to this new Combat, although with some doubt to see his adversaries nimbler and lustier than at the first, and himself somewhat weary. Clasping his sword strongly in his hand, he went against them, making them know, nothing could bereave him of his assured victory. So closing with the one, with his shoulders he thrust him from him, like a loosened arrow from a bow. And with a leap he turned on the second. His speed could not save him, for the furious Greek cut away half his helm, with part of his head. This blow gladded him, resolving to deny the Donzell any thing he should ask within that place. By this arrived the other, but what avails it, for the Greek Mars gives no blow which they feel not within their flesh. They had kind Ladies in this second fight lost the virtue of the Enchantment, only helping themselves with their natural strength, which was very great. And yet it prevails not against him that was borne a Conqueror.  
End this cruel war would the Greek, calling himself coward to prolong it so long: And avoiding one of their blows, he ran at him with the bravest thrust that in all his life he executed: for piercing shield, breast and back, he tumbled him dead at his feet, to Claramants great admiration. The second encouraged himself for all he was alone and sore wounded, it was but a little lengthening of his life, to endure a more cruel death. For the Prince having Fortune by the Front, struck at the top of his helm, yet not with the strength he might, but he yielding back his head, covered it with the shield: whereat the Greek turning his arm, discharged it on his thighs so mightily, that almost he cut one clean off. Before he could settle himself, he ran upon him, and with incredible haste (lest Claramant should interrupt him) hereaft him of his life: himself remaining so weary, that his legs could not then sustain him.  
All his life time he most esteemed this victory, for it cost more labour, more blood, and more trouble, than any other of that quality. He went towards the beauteous Donzell, elder than him by six years, but having suffered no cares, nor pains, nor love passions, made him seem younger than his cousin: who took off his helm, discovering that Mars his countenance of his. Either rejoiced to see the other, thinking they saw one another in a glass. So Claridiano spoke first, saying. I entreat you (fair Donzell) so the heavens make you happy in all attempts, to tell me the cause of your being within so defended a place, and also who you are? for considering how dearly your sight hath cost me, (although I think it well bestowed) you are bound to tell me: whereto Claramant replied.  
Of neither (sir knight) may I resolve you, unless I receive the order of Chivalry, and in faith it not a little grieves me, that I cannot herein satisfy you. Such desire had the Greek to know him, as he was determined to give it him: but remembering how he was before mocked, thus answered. Nay sir, if your knowledge must cost so much, I will not more wish it, for in not performing as yet your request, I am sure I do you some service. Why then (said Claramant) far you well, for I'll return unto my Castle, and in faith, sorry to be denied in my first request I ever made to any knight. Go with me from hence (worthy Donzell, returned the Greek) and you shall receive it with such solemnity, as is due unto your person. The gallant youth answered not, but in great haste returned to the Castle, where had he entered, his cousin had not been able to have fetched him thence, for being with arms, none of all his kinsmen did excel him. But the wise Nabato knowing it concerned his son Don Eleno, with his charms and exorcisms, clouded with mists and fogs all those shining buildings, so astonishing the Donzel, that thinking to enter the Castle, he missed his way, and took it towards the Fountain of the three pipes, where being a dry, and hearing the waters running noise, he drank. But he had scant touched it, when such horribible and hideous noise was heard, that Claramant was half afraid. The end of that adventure consisted on Claramants arriving to the fount, to take down the shield which his cousin had hung on the pillar, on condition of his passage.  
So all that mighty edefice vanished away, made by the great Magician Lirgandeo, as the second part related, wherein he had enchanted this valiant Prince, when he took him from the barbarous Scythians that belonged to Bramarant, who stole him from his mother in the woods of Grecia, as in the third book of the first part is expressed. Alone did the Greek find himself in a broad field, and Palisandro by him with the horses. So looking for the Donzel, he spied him in great haste entering into a thick wood of trees, that stood in the valley. He rose and went thither, at such time as Claramant only with his shield, had thrust himself within, whose sight he quickly lost. Accompany him he would, but it was in vain, for a strong contrary wind blew him out, where he was forced to expect the success of that adventure reserved to the Donzel.   

CHAP. XVIII. How Claramant entered into Theseus' walk, where he won his armour: and what else happened.  
WIthin the intricate grove (sweet Lady) we left the Donzel Claramant, whose disinchauntment being exceedingly desired of every one, made me (to please those desires) a breviate the precedent combats, although Lyrgandeo doth not a little enlarge his discourse therein. But myself wishing no less his enlargement, than any other, forced me to enter him with such brevity, within the way-confused wood, wherein having lost himself, trebatio's son wandered three days alone, only with the Greeks' shield. This was that crooked intricable mansion, in whose contriving, Dedalus at Minos' petition, king of Greece, did show the sharpness of his skill and wit, wherein the famous Minotaur was enclosed: whose original sprung from she beastly blind love of Pasiphae the Queen, for the king being employed in the Trojan wars, she with inhuman appetite lusted after a white bull, that was among her herds: and not knowing how to accomplish so foul a deed, she recommended it to Dedalus: who with his wit, being the Oracle of his age, contrived an artificial Cow of wood, wherein he put the Queen, covered with the hide of another which the Bull most followed, by which means she satisfied her lust, engendering the Minotaur which the Poets feign: and yet Arsanio in the fourth of his Problems, approves with wonderful arguments, the possibility of the act: and saith that at the time of the monsters birth, returned the king, who would not, although the Queen died of the labour kill the beast, but rather commanded him to be kept in a place most difficult to come forth, reserving him there, for what he further intended. For making cruel war upon the Athenians, in revenge of his son Androgeus death, whom they flew, he compelled them in satisfaction thereof, yearly to send him seven men, and as many maids, to be devoured by the Minotaur. Whose form was both of man and Bull, and of proportionable bigness. For some few years lasted this cruel custom, until Theseus coming, whose strength was nothing inferior to Hercules, in so much, that some will have him to be he.  
Being young, he aided Hercules against the Amazons, whom after they had conquered, he married their queens sister. He slew the Tyrant of Thebes, that would not bury his dead kinsmen. And in the Marathonian fields he slew the wild Bull that wasted all Attica. This was he that ravished Helena the first time, whose tender age might then well acquit her of the error. He descended into hell with Perithons', to steal Proserpyne, where he lost his friend. This by lot was sent to Crete as food unto the Minotaur. But the beauteous Ariadne affecting the youth, gave him a clue of thread, which should (after he had slain the beast) lead him out.  
He ingratefully requited both her love and life good turn, leaving her alone in Niosia I'll, which act of unthankfulness so grieved the most wise Dedalus, that he enchanted him in the labyrinth, in recompense of his ingratitude, suffering eternal pains yet to few, in respect of his deserts. He more enlarged the mazed house, that his liberty might be more difficulter. The which he made so singular, as at the least it equalled that in Egypt, and far excelling king Porsenas which he builded in Italy for his sepulchre: which was so fearful, that he commanded before he died, he should not being dead, be there left without company, and so every year, many being put therein, were enforced finding no way out, to associate him in his death. In this inextricable wood, did Dedalus place Theseus, where the Greek youth had lost himself, not knowing how, nor which way he had got in there. It grieved him not, for his invincible heart encouraged him to greater matters. The fourth day of his wandering through the wood, he came unto a fair walk, whose Covert of green ivy, reaching from tree to tree on either side, was so thick, that neither sun nor star could penetrate it at no time, and therefore it was naturally most cold, besides that Dedalus with his skill had made it more, when there he left the ingrateful Thenian, with fréezing cold to extinguish the burning heat, wherewith he loved Phedra, forsaking her sister that had given him no less than his life, helping him to the bottom of the thread, by which he issued out of the Labyrinth. So he endured exceeding torments, minding on nothing, save that none should pass that way, fearing that some one would vanquish the Minotaur, that kept somewhat more within.  
Scarce could the Greek Prince endure the coldness of the Lane, and but that he judged it base fear, he had returned back: yet encouraging himself, valiantly with his shield, he passed on forwards, till he met with the mighty Theseus, clad all in most rich green armour, garnished of tawny Lions, beset with many rich and unvaluable stones.  
A foot stood the fierce Athenian, leaving against a mighty steel battle-axe, with a sword girded at his side, looking with such a stern aspect, as Mars had feared him. But trebatio's son borne to master him, vndauntedly stepped to him with such courtesy, as he thought his person merited, saying. Most valiant knight, I would gladly find a passage from a place so irksome as this, and if along this Lane be the way, I entreat you suffer me freely to pass. With admiration of his gallant disposition, did Hercules companion thus reply. Most willingly fair Donzell, I would pleasure you in this, or any thing else, but my ingratitude bringing me hither, forceth me to let none pass this way, only to have more company (being alone) to associate me.  
And so may you seek an other way, although I believe there is none but this. Why then (said our new Mars) I shall be constrained to procure it, and so rest nothing beholding to you for it. Whereupon as if he were better armed then the Athenian, well covering himself with his shield, paced towards him, who became more fiercer, than when he descended into the earths black Centre, seeing the boldness of the youth so young and armorlesse, presuming to win what only was committed to his strength, in so many dangers and haughty enterprises approved. He raised aloft his axe, thinking to have cleft him in the midst. But the gallant youth leaping aside, meant not only to make him lose his blow, but to close with him, having an eye unto his sword, hoping that if he had it, to assure his victory therewith.  
At this time he missed of his intent, for Theseus was none of those that admitted any such bravadoes: but in the midst of the stroke, before his adversary could enter, he stayed the axe, discharging such a blow on his shield, with the point, that he enforced him back swifter than he came, with greater pain on his breast, for the shield striking there, made him almost breathless. He had not effected this blow, when with the blade he offered an other. He flourished it above his head so mightily, that had not the Greek fallen on his, he had been clean parted in two. He saw himself within deaths claws, for the very wind the weapon yielded in his passage, was enough to strike down an other less valianter than he. He would not then catch at his sword, because the other overwharted him in it, but rather with the nimble skill his tutors had taught him, seemed to stay a blow, lifting his shield on high, the Athenian believing that he would, and that therewith he should terminate that controversy, well settled on his left leg, he let fly at him a downright blow. It is credible, that hitting him with the axe, he had divided not him alone, but the strongest Rock. He that should liberate the Scythian Lady, would not so trust to his shield: for as the axe descended, swifter than thought, he closed with him, thrusting himself under his arms, and with his, he astonished him with a blow running his shield against his head, whereat the other for fear of giving back, resisted him with all his strength, and so aiding his left leg outwards, our new warrior met with the swords handle, the which without more ado, he easily drew forth, whose blade yielded such splendour as the Prince was amazed.  
It was many years since the Athenian had not seen his naked sword, which now viewing in his enemy's power, there is no Lion in fierceness comparable to him. Needs would the Greek youth try his conquered weapon before he got from him, discharging it with all his strength on that side it hung. His armour it cut not, for the world had none better, but it so tormented his leg and thigh, that he could not stand thereon. So Claramant stepping from him, said. Now shall thou know (knight) how much better it had been for thee, to have let me freely pass, and keep thy weapons, then to be without them, for they now shall make me way. Why then stay (said he) discourteous youth, and thou shalt see whether the having of my sword can defend thee from Theseus' wrath, at whose presence all Pluto's kingdom trembled. And so he struck at him a most mighty blow. He could not so defend it, but it fell upon one side of his shield, cutting it away: and made him thrice turn about. But suddenly he recovered, and firmed himself against his adversary, that with his axe point came against him. He turned away and scaped it, discharging his sword upon his helm. It sounded like a bell, making a displeasant music chattering of his teeth.  
Ere Theseus could recover himself, he gave him another, it was it which gave him the victory, by the passing with the point between the closing of his armour. Cutting his privy coat of male, the sharp blade entered unto his flesh: had he not feared the axe, and a little forwarder thrust his arm, he had slain the Athenian: yet it was the first time that the ingrateful Lover saw his own blood, whose sight added such fury to his fury, that now he will not proceed like a skilful knight, but let his blows fly at random, which put the youth in more danger and advised care to shun them, assuring himself, that blow which took him full, would be his death: and therefore he behaved himself with such dexterity, as his cousin had he been there, could have done no more.  
Oh it was a spectacle worthy the Greek Theatre, for the haughty Athenian fiercer than when he slew the Tyrant Creon, procured to give him but one blow, the which with singular agility the Greek shunned. There is no Roe in swiftness like to him, for entering and retiring at his pleasure, sometimes he wounded Theseus, and every time he took him full with his famous sword, he made him tremble like the top of a high proud pine, shaken with the voice of heaven. He himself received some, but they were on his shield, the which in that dangerous battle saved his life. Six hours they have fought without rest. They were in the end (sweet Mistress) made of flesh & blood, and must feel the excessive pain and trouble, so at once without any word, they withdrew to breath: for although the Greek was not wounded, yet his much labour had over much wearied him. Against himself bitterly exclaimed the Athenian, seeing himself both matched and wounded, by one knight without armour. The Greek had no cause yet to complain, for this was his first battle, yet he encouraged himself to end it to his glory. As he walked up and down, he passed by an oak, whereon he read an inscription to this effect.  Dismay not, oh thou valiant Knight, that by thy valour haste arrived to ungrateful Theseus walk, but take courage, for vanguishing him, and winning his armour, thou dost arrive (this being thy first battle) unto the highest top of honour, reserving in thy power, the hopes of greatest joys. 
Having read the letters, the Greek thought nothing what he had before him, considering the promise redounding by the victory. No longer would he rest, for the desired end of the adventure will not suffer him more to breath: and so covering himself with the remainder of his shield, and strongly griping his sword in his hands, went against the Athenian, saying. Come knight, let us end our battle, for it is a shame it should so long last, being but between two. Theseus replied, taking his axe twixt both his hands. There is not any, but at his first semblance would have trembled like an Aspen leaf: yet the haughty youth fearless, confronted him. His axe flourished, the Athenian thinking to have hit him with the blade. But the gallant youth, whose strength excelled his, with his sword struck it away: within him he stepped, letting fly a mighty thrust at his breast, whose force made him fenceless give back, drawing his battle axe after him. trebatio's son followed him hard, and ere he could raise it from the ground, he laid on the visor of his helm such a blow, that he thought the firmament had fallen, so many stars he saw about his ears. So abashed to be so handled was Ariadne's reiecter, for even as he dragged his axe, he hoist it aloft, that the Greek could not escape the blow, nor shun a wound upon his right side, and yet but little, for feeling the blade, he yielded to the left side, and let it pass, and seeing his wished occasion, presently closed with him. The Athenian durst not let go the axe, for therein consisted his strength: whereby unable to help himself as he would in this strife, surely Claramant won ground of him. A better wrasle could not almost be seen, for the Prince being unarmed, and therefore nimbler, trips, tangles, and untangles his legs with more dexterity: which his adversary could not do, although by mere strength he valiantly resisted. The Greek offering to take the axe from him, snatched at it, but too strong so easily to part from it, was the Athenians hold.  
Oh, who would not wish to see this brave contention, for ingrateful Theseus to defend it, fetches forces from his already fainting mind, and the Greek to win it, employeth the utmost of his valour. Thus contending, they were almost at the end of the Alley, when trebatio's issue with a fine slight got the victory. For seeming to let go the axe, loosened a little his hold, and himself stepping something back. The Athenian did the like, thinking so to reassure his axe: but the Greek settling himself strongly on his legs, stepped in, and on the sudden wrong it out of his hands. No sooner had he done it, but all that abhorred fréezing Alley, seemed on a light burning fire. The thunderings, lightnings, and hideous shouts, not a little amazed the Prince, and him that was without, no less, who not able to endure, imagining the haughty Donzell to be in some danger, entered through those entangling paths. By the Athenians losing of his axe, the passage was free, so far as the Donzell was. So he arrived when his invincible Uncle gazed on the armour Theseus had left him upon a table of jasper, where there stood a Pillar with an Epitaph. He then quieted himself, seeing it was the knight that had disinchanted him. They embraced with such love, as if they knew the consanguinity between them. Now may you (sir knight) said Claramant, seeing fortune hath given me armour and weapons, let me receive the order of them at your hands. In all things I desire to satisfy your content, fair Donzell (replied the despairing Prince) wishing it no less than mine. But now rest a while, for we shall have time enough to do it, for I believe the winning of these arms, have cost you no small trouble.  
Some indeed it hath (said Clarament) but being so well acquittanced with the enjoying of your sight, and these rich arms, I account it well bestowed. But let us read this scroll, for I fear we have more to do to get from this accursed place. So hand in hand they went to the Pillar, and read the description thus.  When the two most fiercest Lions shall meet in the valley of ungrateful Theseus, the one winning his armour, and receiving the order of knighthood of him that gave him his liberty, and vanguishing the Minotaur, then shall the enchantments of ancient Dedalus have end. 
It greatly rejoiced Claridiano, to see that he might safely give him the order of Chivalry. And with one accord he armed and knighted him at once. They fitted him so well, as if of purpose they had been forged for him. Never had archisilora's Lover seen a gallanter knight: somewhat bigger he was then his cousin, but not taller: wherefore the wisemen always doubted whether was the valianter, for their particular battles one against the other, it could never be seen. But rather on foot with the battle-axe, no knight could abide the strength of Claramant. Few times carried he shield, the better to play with his are, and therefore was he surnamed the Cruel, for with it he spilt more blood than the fierce African. With exceeding joy did he girt his sword, embracing him with exceeding signs of love. They vowed such great amity, that their knowledge of uncle and cousin, could not more augment it. A while they rested, that with more courage the new knight might prove the adventure of the Minotaur. So much desired the late armed Prince, to see the beast, as he rose, saying. It is time (sir knight) to end this business, for being so surely backed, were the enterprise more difficult, the victory is most certain. His cousin followed him, glad to see his brave and gallant gate. His are he carried on his shoulder, the best weapon that the world contained, and his sword gir● by his side. In this manner they paced towards a stately building that stood in midst of the field. Narrow was the entrance to it, but within if had so many intricate ways, that they could not devise where it might end. Enter into it would the vallerous Claramaunt, recommending himself unto the immortal God's protection.  
The like did Claridiano, committing him to his keeping, that with a (F●at) framed the whole heavens, earth, and vast seas. With tender kindness the two kinsmen embraced each other, which done, the haughty youth prepared to enter the inextricable house of Dedalus. What within happened him, and the battle fought with the monster, deserves a new Chapter.   

CHAP. XIX. How Claramant entered the labyrinth of Crete, where he slew the Minotaur, and the glorious end he gave the adventure.  
I Doubt not (gallant Ladies, beauties ornaments) but that neither the excellencies of your perfections, whose powerful virtue can only with the sight command the greatest heart, nor yet the tender pity attending on your sex, will not with timorous fear appall your gentle minds, reading these fierce accidents of stern Mars. And then I hope you will not conceive less pleasure with the bloody battles wherein I am entangled, then at Cupid's amorous discourses. But where they seem offensive, pass them over, though love have ordained them, and yet respecting the cause, I know you will not condemn the effect. For although now you see the Greek Prince busied with cruel wars, too soon he will be led where he shall confess, there is no good where the little blind God doth not reign, and this even when aided with nothing but his strength, he shall set free the fair Princess of the Scythians, from her strong enchantment. But before that happens, attend, and you shall hear what him befell entering the blind Labyrinth.  
His axe he carried afore, and with unremooving steps, he entered the way-confused habitation, where he so often turned and returned, coming back when as he thought himself to go forward, and crossing such by-ways at every second pace, that when he judged to be at the end, he found himself at the door. Sometime he heard, not without great amazement, the noise of voices crying: The rich armour thou haste won bold knight, shall not avail thee to get from our dwelling, in recompense of thy presumption to disquiet us: and then felt he such mighty blows, that often made him set his hands and knees upon the ground: but considering how little he had done by winning the armour, and how the other valiant knight expected him, so animated him to endure those huge strokes, which none but he could have suffered. Weary and tired, he at last came where he saw a little light, that issued from a high cranny of the wall. It gladded him, for by it, he found a way that brought him unto a fair large yard, about whose walls were many pictures and stories so naturally drawn, that they somewhat eased his pain.  
By them he understood Pasiphae's beastly access unto the Bull. It so disliked him, that he turned away his eyes, being offended, not with the pictures, but with what it represented. He saw Theseus clad in those arms he won of him, enter the Labyrinth, with the thread tied to his arm, and at the door the two beautiful sisters, that with fear did stay for him. The cause was, they loved, and where that passion is, none can live secure, fearing also the good it enjoyeth. A little beyond, he saw how ill repaid Ariadne was, being left to the mercy of the winds among wild beasts. To such pity was he moved towards the Lady, that casting up his eyes to heaven, he said. Oh cruel knight, unworthy the name of Theseus, employing so ill those parts the heavens hath adorned thee with, but especially against a weak tender Lady, whom if reason had been thy guide, thou shouldest have helped, although thy life were hazarded. A new battle (were it possible) would I have with thee upon this, to make thee confess thy cruelty and ingratitude.  
He vowed to himself to help all Ladies, though he endangered his life: which he performed so well, that many under that name, only durst travel alone, and every one called him the knight of the Ladies. His own image saw he a little further, and his battle fought with Theseus, together with those which Claridiano made about his liberty. He rejoiced to see the haughty deeds of his new friend. Being about to go to the other side of the yard, to view those pictures there, as he turned, he espied two knights all in armour coming towards him, with their shields and swords ready for the fight. Their gallant semblance and bravery much pleased the Greek: being near him, one said.  
Thou haste been much overseen (knight) not acknowledging loves sovereignty, to enter a place so prohibited, where be sure thou shalt be called to strict accounts. They stayed for no answer, but ere he could sway his axe about, they gave him two mighty blows, one on his shoulder, and the other on his helm. Both he greatly felt, especially so cowardly to be assaulted. With an eagle's swiftness he got from between them, into the midst of the broad yard, the better to use his dangerous axe. He stretched it out at length, awaiting for his adversaries, that nothing fearing, followed him. With the point he hit one, almost beheading him, for with the blade he sorely wounded his throat: he drew back his axe, and winding it about, laid on his shield, the which he struck to the ground, and his Master headlong at his feet. His companion was not careless, but coming behind, gave him so strong a blow upon his helm, that though he cut it not, yet he bended it to his breast.  
Like a furious Lion turned the Greek against him, whom he found so near, that to hit him, he was feign to draw back his arms, and with a fierce encounter he ran his shield through, and wounded him on the breast, making him stagger backwards, and to help him down, he raised his axe, and discharging it on the side of his helm, he cut away all that part, with a great piece of his enchanted gorget. He felled him at his feet, and was so eager to end with him, that he forgot his other adversary, who assailing him at his back, gave him so fierce a blow upon his middle, that his companion executing ano, there in the same place, they had almost felled him. Never was Bear nor Tiger more fierce than now the Prince became against his enemies, raising aloft his axe. He could not miss his blow, for they were before him. So with all his strength he hit one on the shoulders, the blow was so mighty, that all the blade he hide within his breast, splitting his heart in two.  
Scarce had he finished this, when he laid upon his other enemy, who was so skilful, that ere the axe descended, he got under his arms, running at his breast with a thrust. This blow much grieved the Greek, for it stopped the passage of his breath: and he seemed to await the axe: but for all the haste he made to ward the blow, it first crowned him with death, for falling on his head, divided in two, he sent him to accompany his friend.  
The hideous noise which he heard in the next room, would let him take no rest, but rather leaning on his axe, he stayed more warily to see what it was. When presently with admiration he was amazed, seeing the fearful Minotaur so ugly and deformed. His face was like a man's, although far bigger: his eyes glowed like a furnace of kindled fire. On his large front he had two mighty horns, whose points were harder than any Diamond: his neck short and thick. So big and broad a breast he had, that the very fight witnessed his strength. He was of a done colour, and went upright as well on his hinder legs, as on all four. In stead of cloven feet, he had most sharp claws, with which there was no armour but he would rend. In bigness he was but as an ordinary Bull, yet swifter than an Ounce, and so with his strength he assured his light encounters. With such fierceness he came, that the Prince thought he should want time to view him. Nevertheless, he fixed his foot strongly on the paved yard, until approaching to execute his blow, he gave him way, letting him pass swifter than the wind.  
There wanted no spectacles to overview the battle, for the windows over the yard were full of beauteous Ladies, among whom, (had he but his right judgement) he might have seen the tamer of his heart: neither did their want gallant Knights to accompany them, for Dedalus had also provided that, when he first made that enchantment in revenge of Ariadne's wrong.  
The speedy return of the lustful queens sons return, put him from his gazing: but he found the Prince so watchful, that his hasty course was to no effect. Three carriers past they thus, neither wounding the other, yet so well could not the Prince defend himself, but at last the Bul met with him. He struck him not full with both horns, for so he had endangered him, save with one, hitting him on the shoulder, which forced him to show more signs to be a tumbler, than a skilful Knight. He was so abashed to be so used, that fiercer than any Tiger he stayed his return: which he did with his accustomed lightness. Him did the warlike Greek expect with his axe on high, till he approached so near, that to his thinking he could not lose his blow: with all his strength he turned it, giving the furious Minotaur such a blow between his horns, that he made him give back.  
He thrust the blade so much forth, that the blow was but with the staff, which sounded as if it had fallen on a plate of steel. With his paws the beast catched at the Prince, who with a leap escaped him, swaying about his dangerous weapon, discharged it on his fore knee, whose hard hide could not save it from cutting clean off. Never on the earth was heard more fearful bellowing then the Bull made, wounded so dangerously. Somewhat careless stood the youth, thinking on the venturous blow he had made, that he was forced to receive one nothing inferior to his: for the beast suddenly ran at him with both his horns. To the fine temper of his breastplate, is Claramants life imputed: for had it been otherwise, from side to side he had pierced him: but finding a stay, so fiercely to resist him, he was struck with a sore fall on the paved ground. There, having his other foot to help him with, he had surely slain him. Nevertheless, with his right paw (which was that was left) he took hold of his shoulder, and wrong him so hard, that the Prince thought that part, to be crushed to pieces. He drew it to himself, bringing away all it catched in his enchanted claws, which was his vanbrace.  
So strongly he hoist the Greek, that he set him on his feet. Some fear conceived the haughty youth, at the beastly creatures fierceness. He was not able to use his axe, before the Minotaur holding down his head, took him between his horns, and flung him exceeding high into the empty air: falling so miserably on the stones upon his left arm, that he thought it and his body all bruised. Here Galtenor dares not undertake certainly to express the rage that possessed the Greek Prince. The hardest Diamond would he have cleft: so fierce he turned upon pasipha's son, that like lightning came against him, again to hoist him on his horns: but before he approached to execute his furious encounter, trebatio's son discharged such a blow on one of his horns, that it and part of his head came to the ground, and from 〈◊〉 wound issued gutters of gore blood. Shrill shouts of hideous cries echoed throughout the edifice, answering the Bulls roaring. Who closed with the Greek, casting his claws upon his sword hills, the which he drew forth, laying such a blow upon his helm, that with hands and knees he kissed the earth. He feared not so much his combat against Theseus, being without armour, than now seeing his weapon in his enemy's hand.  
Increased so was his fear, hearing a clamorous noise that said. Dead art thou distressed Prince, for never shalt thou see thy desired Parents, nor thy new friend that expects thee. It was no time to make reply to those words, nor seek for them that spoke them: for the devilish beast fenced with the sword so bravely and quick, that he constrained the Greek to use all his possible care to shun his blows by his dexterity. And the Bulls bleeding, was to his no small avail, for with his turning it fell on his eyes, that it much blinded his sight. So well could not Alphebos brother save himself, but he was overta'en with a mighty blow, sidelong it lighted on his neck piece, cutting most part thereof: and had the stroke been given advisedly, his neck from his shoulders he had sundered. The beast ever so closed with the Prince, that he could not fetch about with his axe, that taking it by the top, he could no more but strike him with the point, yet all the blade with the strength of his arms he hid within his breast, and thrust him away all the length of his axe, that he could not hit him with his sword, being out of his reach.  
There is no poisonous Basseliske to be compared with the wrathful man-halfe-Bull: who casting floods of blood from his eye and breast, prosecuted his disordered battle so cruelly, that the vexed Greek breathless, and tired with overmuch labour, knew not which way to turn himself. And for all he saw the Monster deadly wounded, yet he misdoubted the victory, because he never reached him with the sharp slising sword, but it made him set his knees to the earth. All the yard was died with beastly bloody gore, and such abundance thereof he had shed, that he seemed nothing so fierce as in the beginning. Well did Claramant perceive it, which infused new hopes in his fainting mind. A thousand times called he himself coward, seeing that battle so long continued, which he judged his friend would have had long afore ended, if he were in his place.  
Most circumspectly, and with the greatest care he could, he awaited, and it was not in vain towards the ending of the cruel fight: for the fierce beast returning with his full carreir, he struck him on the head: in two he cloven it, and field him dead at his feet. He was no sooner downe, but all that edefice was covered over with thick black fog.  
Shrieks and howl were heard, ugly illusions and fantasmos, appeared to the Prince, that had he not been Claramant, there he had for ever left his life. The horror which the Castle and all the Enchantment made in the vanishing, struck him in a trance on the ground, and was no less, then if heaven and earth should have met with fierce encounters.  
An hour and more lasted the tempestuous noise, in the end whereof, the skies cleared, and Claramant found himself near to the Fountain of the three Pipes, from whence Claridiano ran to embrace him, and joyful to see him safe, said taking off his Helm. How do you feel yourself (most valiant Knight?) for I am sure, considering the outrageous cries I heard, you have not been idle. I have undergone all things easily (sir Knight) replied his uncle, only by hoping of your sight, which hath lessened all my troubles if any be sustained. So sitting down at the Fountain, he related to him all his successes, whereat his cousin remained no less amazed then content, judging the knight to be the son of valour, of whom Claridiano entreated he might know who he was.  
Were it for nothing else (Sir Knight replied Claramant) but to satisfy your content, I should have thought myself most happy, if Fortune would have let me tell you who I am: But having so favoured me with your dear sight and acquaintance, no marvel if this pleasure so savour of some discontent, as in not being able to reveal my parentage to you, because indeed I know not who I am, more than that I have some years been nourished in this Grove, being made exceeding much of, yet not knowing by whom, nor for what cause, it is incredible.  
Sometimes to comfort me in my solitariness, they told me I was of Greece, and of Noble parents. There is no joy comparable to Claridianos, hearing he was a Greek, persuading himself certainly he was his kinsman. Again he embraced him, gratulating his being of that Country, and his Country man. Claramant requested also to know him, since the friendship vowed between them, might allow no secret from the other. To please him, Claridiano did it. The kissing of his hands entreated his fair uncle, saying. The not knowing you (sovereign Prince) hath made me commit so manifest an error: wherefore in sign of inpenetrated pardon, grant me your victorious hands, that I may thereon expiate the offering of my innocency on them, due to your worthiness. His tender Cousin embraced him and said. Most valiant Knight, this is not tolerable, yours being of such deserts, meriting the duty of all the world: And trust me, you are too blame to use me with such ceremonies, that am your professed friend, and will be till the death. All that day they rested there, in pleasant conversation passing away the time, where Palisandro rejoiced in his very soul, that his Lord had found so mighty a friend.  
So many things did the Prince discourse to him of Grecia, which so contented Claramant, that he entreated him to return and accompany him thither: The which archisilora's Lover granted, purposing to discover himself to none, arrived in Crecia, and so he prayed his uncle.  
In the afternoon, the two Heroic warriors took their way towards the Sea. At their departure from the Fountain, on the Pillar that contained the former words, they read these.  The intricate Labyrinth and vanquishment of Theseus, the most ingratefullest of all Lovers, was ended by the mighty Knight of the Lions, in presence of his greatest friend and kinsman: by whom he first received his liberty. And so both ended the famousest adventure in the world. 
The suspicious words to be near Allies, could not more augment the lovers amity between the two haughty youths, although they increased new joy, hoping in the end that Prophecy would issue true. Thus they arrived at the sea shore, where they found their enchanted Bark richly provided with all necessaries for the Greek Princes. Who being shipped therein, with more fury than doth a Comet cross the azure skies, it launched into the deep. Where of force we must leave them, returning to Greece.   

CHAP. XX. How Lysarte King of Tharsis, and his son Florisarte, Prince of Argentaria, arrived with their Fleet within sight of the marvelous Tower, and what else happened.  
ALthough I am constrained altogether unwillingly to leave treating of Love and loves discourses, yet will I not leave to implore your favours (beauteous Ladies) to march under the displayed Ensign of stern and bloody Mars. For if it he well considered, this is an amorous war, proceeding of affection, wherein the chiefest and valiantest thereof, imparts no blow upon their enemies, but is guided by Cupid. Some fight here to please their Ladies, others, to give her liberty enclosed in the Tower, whose love many prosecuted, but only by one is obtained. And others to become Lovers, choose this war as their best means for it, which indeed sorted not in vain, because many sacrificed their liberties to unknown Ladies, especially in Greece, where the blind God kept the greatest part of his treasure, wherewith he captivates the strongest hearts. So that (divine Ladies) while I follow Mars his Drum, I do not forget the footing of Cupid's dances. And this opinion is well confirmed by the gallant Florisarte, Prince of Argentaria, who neither Arms, nor the being among so many bloods, could extinguish the remembrance of his Love, not knowing who it was, save only to maintain his word, engaged to disguised Artinio, that for Arbolindas sake, the fair Princess of Scotland had so laid that plot, heretofore recited: whose memory and absence, made him within his Helm drown his eyes in tears. It is common (excellent Ladies) among amorous Gallants, always to bewail their greatest evil, although many other present dangers do encompass them.  
In this perplexity the valiant youth in his father's company, with all his Fleet navigated the Greek sea with prosperous wind. With such great desire came the Argentarians, and men of Tharsis to fight, that they thought they should never see the occasion to show their kings how greatly they desired to have them. Ten days they sailed on the Vast seas, meeting with nothing that might hinder their voyage, bearing the Greek arms in midst of their Colours. The eleventh day early in the morn, they descried a mighty. Navy of ships and Galleys, hovering up and down, upon the calm waters. They were above seven hundredth sails. So not knowing what they were, nor of whose part, they struck alarm, seeing the great advantage they had over them, both in wind, and lightness of vessels. The Fleet of the Tharsian Prince, in good order began to cast about in manner of a half Moon, discharging two pieces of ordinance, in sign of battle, setting forwards against their adversaries. Who as it seemed trusting to their strength of multitudes, made ready their well furnished ships, and answered them in like manner, advancing on their Admiral, their royal arms: and thus they approached one an other, seeming to cover the seas. Four of the Agentarian Galleys rowed forth without, spread sails to discover their adversaries ensigns, which to their content they descried: for being in sight of them, they saw the imperial Eagle, with two crowned heads, the self-same they had. In sign of peace and message, the Tharsians hung out a white flag. So they were suffered to pass among their ships, whose numbers of men and fierce Giants amazed them. They boarded the Admiral, from whence two ancient Knights of Argentaria, were in a Barge, conducted to the royal Galleon, where they delivered their embassage unto a mighty knight, that little wanted of a giants height, telling him how in their fleet were the kings of Tharsis, and Argentaria, from whom having seen their arms, they came to know whether they were on the part of Grecia, under whose standard they also fought. These news exceedingly gladded the gallant youth, being no less than valiant Abstrusio: who would needs express his thankfulness for what Rosabell had done for him, having through his valour and strength obtained his fair Syrinda: who knowing that her Abstrusio went to Grecia, would not stay without him, dreading the want of his presence. And so to conduct her with more safety, he had mustered together from both kingdoms and all the islands he had conquered by his valour, 300. thousand Combatants, the skilfullest in Navigation in all the wide world beside, and he himself excelling all others therein, because with advantage to give a battle on the seas, he seemed to have been only borne thereto: he brought with him 500 puissant giants his friends, that to please him with many of their knights, accompanied him in that voyage. And in his ship to guard his dear lady, were twenty, proportioned like to plesse pines. Now seeing the Navy, he had reputed to be against him, came on the ●ehalfe of his honoured Prince, he declared who he was, and how he rejoiced to have met such friends unto the Greeks and Rosabell. Presently they sounded in sign of peace, yet many of Abstrusios' followers, and Argentarians, grieved thereat, because they first desired to have made trial of their persons: but long was it not after, that they had occasion to do it. By this was it known to Lysart, who his reputed enemy was, and so to show him extraordinary courtesy, he and his son with fo●●e Lords of estimation went to visit him, whereof Abstrusio being advertised, expected their coming on the hatches of his Galleon, commanding as they passed by, they should be welcomed with a general peal of Ordinance from all his ships: which was performed in such good sort, that the haughty Lysart much commended their good entertainment: who with all his company went aboard of the Galleon: and most kindly the two lusty warriors embraced one an other. And so being known how they were all voyagers for one enterprise, and either relating how much they were bound to Rosabell, the mighty Abstrusio burst forth into these words. Oh jove, now I am fully assured, how effectually thou dost impart thy favours to the Greeks: and I nothing wonder at the lamentable desolation of ruined Troy, since all the good adventures of the world are solely reserved for them, as due to their worths. And your Majesty hath reason mighty king of Tharsis, to show the office of a friend unto so brave a Prince, and as for me, were I not he I am, should I deny what I own, since through him I enjoy my life, possess my kingdom, and that which is more, and I most esteem, is the happy fruition of my dear wife. And then he told him all that happened with him, to Rosabel's immortal glory. So Lysarte requited his discourse with an other of his Loves, and that therefore he brought that Navy to aid them. It is no more than due (said Abstrusio) to help him that helps so many to obtain their joys, in whose pursuit let us spend our lives, to make him happy in content. And so joining both fleets together by the Tharsians direction, they set forwards, for Lysarte was best acquainted with those seas, and knew where the enchantment stood, having been at it when he freed Rosabell from it. Who desirous to honour the Pagan with more than ordinary courtesy, commanded to be proclaimed throughout his Fleet, that every one should obey the mighty Abstrusio, as their Captain General. Who taking some offence thereat, said. Since our amity must be of such force and continuance, I would not (mighty Prince) you would use these ceremonies with me. I do, but what I know you deserve and is your due. Brave Prince (replied Lysarte) and therefore do but command, and we will all obey: for now and at all times, we intend to be your soldiers, and so he entreated him to pass into his Galley▪ but not able to obtain it, he and his son were feign to stay in that Galleon. With the noise of many instruments, the two puissant Navies began to shape their course towards Nyquea. They had such fair weather and prosperous wind, that on the fourth day of their Navigation, they descried the flames of fire that issued from the Tower. Thither they turned their course, sending forth six swift sailing Galleys, to discover their way. The which were so near the Tower, that they saw a most dangerous battle fought between the Arches. The reason was, for that the mighty Brauorant making his abode there, would suffer none to prove the ascending up.  
Some about it had lost their lives, and many their honours. They so long tarried, that from the South they descried before they went away, such an infinite number of sails, that it amazed their judgements, deeming them to be above 4000 vessels of Ships, Barks and Galleys. Never did Xerxes see at once so many sails together. This fleet was the mighty Sultan's of Nyquea, with whom all his friends being joined, came thitherward covering all the sea of Greece.  
In the Admiral, was the two Soldans of Nyquea and Egypt, being a brother of his whom Rosabell slew. Who seeing himself so mighty, resolved with all his strength to revenge his brother's death, and his was the greatest part of that power. With them joined the Prince of Syconia, Venus' Lover, the Sophy, the mighty King of Assyria, with the Phenician: who hoping there to see their sons, as Lupercio told them, agreed to aid the soldan of Nyquea.  
Also very strongly came brave Epirabio, with proud Brufaldoro, Brauo●●…nts great enemy. Many men brought not Bembo Prince of Achaya, but without doubt, the valiantest and most expert in war.  
Envious Lupersio so well pleaded for this brave knight, that he caused him to be created Lord General both by sea and land, he accepted the honour, judging his strength to be sufficient to discharge a greater charge. He named for his Lieutenant and Substitute by sea, the discreet king of Assyria, because he had rather fight by Land, that he might order and dispose of the Ships and galleys, lest their numbers breaking into disorder, might hazard their victory, which otherwise they had assured.  
Every one highly esteemed him, seeing his gallant behaviour, and knowing how he was honoured throughout the world. So many hundred thousands of men they brought, that he thought he was able with them to subdue all the world: For most of the Princes were accompanied with furious Giants, and many Sagitaries: especially the Soldan of Egypt, because his country afforded most. With such noise they arrived at the Tower, as if heaven and earth had met. Yet for all this, did not the two Combatants desist from the cruel sight, until the strange knight saw how great a Fleet made thitherward, and then thinking it no wit, longer to stay, with a cruel point thrust the sturdy Brauorant from him, and turning his bark, put forth into the sea, leaving the enraged Pagan so furious, that he was about to follow him. He was nothing daunted with the sight of so huge a Navy, but rather wished they would assault him, that he might execute on them the wrath that the knight had put him in, who was none other, but the beauteous Archysilora, who seeing the flames, came to the Tower. Within sight she stood, and so did the six Galleys, to see what order they took. With sovereign praises did Lupersio extol the merits of the Knight of the Tower, so every one called him. They all rejoiced knowing whose son he was, and how he would take their part. He advertised his friend Bembo, to honour him: for in him consisted the sure hopes of that doubtful victory.  
The Prince did so, sending a Galley to salute him in his name. A little did not the Pagan esteem the account that was made of him, & much honoured Bembo, being acquainted with him. By Lupercios' counsel the three most mighty Pagans, Bembo, Brauorant, and Brufaldoro, his competitor, placed themselves before the Arches, for he ●…red what after did ensue: and there (had it not been in respect of Bembo) would Brauorant have had assaulted the Mauritanian.  
There was never a Prince in all the Fleet, but went to know him, all whom he received with singular courtesy. But how he tendered Floraliza, requires a new story: hers was the third voice in counsel of war, for that dignity had Lupercio procured her, by whose direction all the army was governed. Nevertheless, greatly sorrowed the Soldan of Nyquea for his sons absence, thinking his presence would have assured his hopes.  
Scarce had that mighty Navy cast about the Tower, when another no less puissant than it, appeared Eastward from the coast of Grecia, the which but stripping the winds, purposed to get the advantage of his enemies. It was the Emperor Trebatios, that with five hundredth ships and galleys made towards the highest part of the Tower: somewhat a far off, and from the tops of their masts they could descry the Fleet at the Tower, which they judged to be their enemies. Never did Neptune on the seas behold a thing more stupendious, for both armies seemed two populous Cities. In the royal Admiral, all the Princes were met to consult on the giving of the battle.  
The Emperor brought with him the best men in all his Empire, and in his guard his son Rosicler, the warlike Rosamond, with famous Brandafidel, and the stout Bramidoro king of Cerdenan. For the Lady persuading herself that in so renowned an enterprise, her beloved Dacian would surely be, would not stay in Grecia; but rather clad in her rich armour, was one that won most honour both on sea and land. With him also came the sons of the mighty Croanto, Lord of the Carmenian Isles, knights, whose like the world contained few. No less guarded was the Emperor Alphebos Admiral, within which there was beside himself, his dear Empress Teffereo, and the two valiant Spanish brothers: for his more safety, he had with him twelve Giants his neighbours, than who in all the adverse army, there was none valianter, nor that with more trust and care defended their Prince. The Spanish Admiral was one of the bravest and best furnished ship in either's Fleet, for therein would Torismundo show his magnifisence, with his brother in law Claverindo, and both their sons that were in her, and at their guard fifty Spanish knights, that against Mars, neither of them would refuse the combat.  
The new King of Thessaly, would needs manifest how much he was bound unto the Greeks', to whom with his Sarmatia, the first onset was committed, and to be seconded by the Spanish and French, as men most hardiest at the first assaults. The Emperor Trebatio like a wise Captain, showed himself in sanguine coloured armour (for this device pleased him best) and mounted the hatches of his ship, that every one might see him. With him came the two wise men, Lyrgandeo & A●tomidoro, who as yet knew not the end of the adventure, for it was in Medea's books, and he that had them, was their friend Nabato, that in a Cloud hovered over the Tower (for his dear Don Elenos sake) lest Lupercio with his exercismes might devise some new treason against the Lady enchanted there. The counsel was ended, with resolution strait to begin the battle, although there wanted the Kings of Antioch, Babylon and Persia, whose presence was greatly miss. Every Prince and commander passed to his own ship, to order their necessary affairs. And while the quiet waves with gentle calm hore their vessels, the great Emperor of Greece leapt into a Frigate, with his Helm off: on the one side went his son Rosicler, and on the other, Don Elenos fair Lady, and having gone round about his Navy, encouraging his soldiers, set himself in midst of them all, and thus began.  
Come is the time (most valiant knights) wherein deeds will be more requiset than words, having such multitudes of strong enemies to cope withal: & if I be moved to speak thus, believe me, it is but to renew the memory of the royal blood from whence we descend, & the glory the our predecessors from age to age have maintained, eternising their fames thereby, to all posterities: entreating you as friends, that none would fight otherwise, then to make their enemies confess the worth of their persons, & not for desire of spoil or gain, and to express his duty, love & fidelity towards his God, Prince and country: for this, & nothing but this, will assure his victory. And let not their overmatching numbers daunt our courageous minds, but still uphold our wonted valour, wherewith in despite of foes, we made our names to be feared. There can be no greater honour, then with glory here like good knights to die, if sates have so appointed. And since every one of you knows the right and justice of our cause, let us confidently trusting thereto, make them know how unjustly they have topsey-turuey turned the world.  
Here ended the brave Emperor, and with amiable Majesty, commanded his frigate to his former place, leaving his soldiers so animated with his words, that they thought every minute long, till they met with their enemies. Strait he ordered his battles, dividing his Fleet into three parts. The middle most he himself conducted, being all the Greeks and Macedones, whose General was Meridian. The right squadron guided the Emperor Alphebo, with all those of his Empire, being very warlike people. The left going somewhat foremost, led Torismundo, Prince of Spain. Before than all went Priam's valiant heir, backed with some Spanish Galleys, to secure those in most danger. On the Pagan's side, in no less good order had Bembo disposed his battle, in form of a half Moon, an usual custom to fight among them: in which manner they approached our Navy, at the sound of many thousand military Instruments. Being ready to give the o●●●t, the famous General from this Admiral, spoke thus.  
Where (valiant Knights) there is so many Princes, and such great experience in war, I should have little need to advertise you, that Fortune hath ministered unto us occasion, forever to perpetuate our fame. Sure may we account the victory, for being as valiant as our adversaries, we exceed them in numbers, and may if me list, two or three at once assail every one of his enemies. As for myself, losing my life in the office you have given me, I satisfy the duty of a knight, and vow to be your general friend till death. And thereupon displayed a bloody flangge crossebarde with black, a sign that none should take his foe prisoner, but shut the doors against all mercy. So closing his beaver, lead after him the best soldiers in the Fléets, and leaning under the arches the mighty Brauorant, and Brusaldoro his competitor, those two puissant Fleets began to come within shot one of another. Where, oh Apollo, who may without thy help relate such a famous conflict? whose success well deserving a new Book, it cannot have less than another Chapter.   

CHAP. XXI. How the most cruel fight between both the Navies began: and the admirable successes that in the process thereof happened.  
THis is the time, being encompassed with so many enemies, that I dare not (fair divine Lady) pass one foot further without your special favour. Black and fatal was the day to many, tasting in it the sour cup of death. But to those whom fortune was bend to please, reserving their lives to see the dismal bloody loss of others, some comfort was it to them, the hearing of so many drums and trumpets echo in the air, resounding in the deep, rejoicing a so many displayed flags and bannerets as danced with the winds, the weighing of anchors, and hoisting up of sails, the noise which the poor slaves have on the waters, beating them with their oars: the clamorous cries of every Captain, encouraging those whom fear had already daunted: the glistering shine of armour, and the confounding numbers of brave Knights and fierce Giants, that on the hatches of every vessel did expect their enemies: these and such like sights, amazed and admired the beholders. Neptune would not this day show himself cruel, nor Aeolus let forth more than one gentle breath, that did with swelling pride blow big the Pagan's sails. Who taking advantage of the good occasion, with redoubled courage offered to grapple, accounting the conquest theirs.  
Oh who is he, able to describe the manner of so many deaths that there were given? So great was the smoke issuing from their shots, that they neither heard nor saw one another, which being passed, and the welking clearing over head. Oh Mercury, would thou wert in midst of this battle, in apt eloquence to model forth the merits of every particular worth. But first the hideous cries of slaughtered bodies, the noise of warriors, the shrieks of the wounded, could not but be a cruel spectacle: for they were all between two of the cruelest oppressed elements that were, fire and water.  
Quickly foamed the seas with bloody froth, and on it floated the dead carcases of sometime living creatures. exceeding great was the slaughter that the Christians made, with wild fire and balls of burning pitch and resin. And as they used all possible celerity in casting it, and the wind that played with their running wings a little strong, by that means was the destruction, which they made infinite: for neither striking of sails, removing cabins, and casting overboard all necessary tackle, availed to avoid the merciless devouring fire, which left neither mast nor sail unconsumed. Oh cruel Sultan of Nyquea, that dost delight to see the thing that would have moved Nero to some pity.  
Strange ways for deaths were there seen, for some flying the fire, perished in the waters: nor is there a friend, that will help the other. The father in such hurlebourly knows not his dear son, nor he remembers his sire to pay him the debt he owes him, for life and nurture. Only every one procures to live, and when he cannot scape, to die, not to departed unrevenged. This satisfaction was the sole comfort to them, that with cruel wounds fling at their enemies, and stumbling on their own guts, embraced a willing death, together with their adversaries. Some hanging by their strong hands overboard, saw the cruel axe descend, and cut them from his hold, and he rejoiced with such a death, rather than to be hewn in pieces by an Infidel. Others embraced like good friends, sought their ends in the lowest deeps, glad to kill, being killed. The proper life is here had but in equal estimation with his adversaries death. Others that to themselves complained towards the heavens, against Fortune and their haps, saw their friends come stumbling without arms and legs upon them.  
Such was the confusion among them, that no order could be observed, although therein the Greek got some advantage, because their vessels were lighter and better provided. The gallant Spanish Captain with advise of his Lieutenant general, County of Medina, appointed some small boats well furnished, who with all necessary diligence, closely pierced through ten of the Pagan's greatest ships, the which with such fury leaked, that on the sudden, not knowing which way they were sunk, with an infinite number of men, chiefly Giants, whose weights did soonest overwhelm them.  
Then prevailed not outcries of Pilots, nor the hasty calling for boats, because the Rowers fearing the fires which the Spaniards hurled, rather strived to save themselves, than their friends, whom they saw smothered in those unquenchable flames, and being up to the chin in water, yet seemed to burn alive. Peace, they judged the two contrary elements had made, seeing the abundance of water could not free them from the fire, nor the fire for fear of it, keep the waters from overwhelming them. From side to side some were thrust, and these exclaimed not for being wounded, but for want of company to comfort them, in their funeral obsequies. Well do the Greeks defend themselves, offending on this side, where the Spaniards bravely cried S. james.  
And although they were confronted three to one, they gallantly stuck to it, seeing how victoriously the Thessalians had assailed their enemies. Wonders performed the Trojan with his beloved Sarmatia, against the Pagan: but what awales it, when for one they kill, there came twenty in his place, and so on either side the battle was at one stay: whose fierceness may be forgot, remembering what on the right wing was done, where the fierce Alphebo which Claridiana commanded, for no devise can there be distinguished, being all died in one sanguine hue. There all other means they did forget of fight, save with their arms, that being come to handy blows, who would not, but with more than admiration admire, seeing them board the Ship, wherein the two Sultan's of Egypt and Nyquea were, walled about with so many furious Giants. On his right hand went his Empress Claridiana, like lightning among them. But the gallant Teffereo, expressing there who he was, showed by good experience the high valour of his person. I beseech your Majesty to follow me, for in despite of our foes, I will enter this ship (said he.) Do so, for we will all back you (replied the two Lovers) that no less wished it then he. So the Lady desirous to be first, courageously leapt into the adverse vessel, and maugre all the Giants that defended it, she rushed in among them: but it had like to have cost her life, for the Giants judging her to be of estimation, two of them gave her two such blows at once, that careless they struck her at their feet.  
Outright had they slain her, or at least taken her prisoner, if her invincible husband with his utmost speed had not followed her close, almost falling down, with such strength he leapt among them. Many blows he suffered, making no reckoning of them, because he only aimed at them that struck his Empress. It is no new matter what he now doth, dividing the two Giants at two blows in four parts, that had offended him, offending his Lady.  
He durst not go from her till she recovered herself, becoming fiercer than a mountain Lioness. Many lives dearly bought her wrath. Bravely were they backed by Teffereo, and the two Spaniards following them, together with most of the Imperial guard, and the four Giants, all which kept still together in a round, back to back.  
There was so many in the Sultan's ship to keep them at work, that they had no time to look about: for the Barks and Galleys of supply, which Bembo as a skilful General had appointed for their purpose, served to no other end but to fetch away wounded men, leaving fresh soldiers for them, and of the best. Hear were one of the fiercest conflicts that happened all that day: for the Tribizonians imitating the valour of their Princes, would not have them lose what they had won.  
And therefore although thousands perished, they bravely hindered their adversaries from succour, which was no help for the Lords within. In her enchanted Bark, had the brave Queen of Lyra ranged about all the battle, to find out her friend Rosamonde, whom she greatly affected: but not meeting with her, her good fortune, or theirs that were in the ship, conducted her thither.  
Seeing that cruel fight, and thinking them to be the Emperor Trebatios his Sons, she bravely leapt into the Egyptian Bark, crying: Grecia and Lyra. Many knew her by the voice, among whom were the Emperors that were opposed against a number of Giants.  
More destruction make not the unseasonable showers of drowning waters, beating down the ripened corn: nor with more fury flies not the hasty fired powder, than the warlike Matron with her sword, shows herself joining with the Greek. Mars wounding the first Giant she met so bravely on the helm, that cleaving it, she also cloven his head down to the neck. With such help (sovereign Queen said Alpheo) our victory will not be so great, if this ship should of itself yield, although the greatest personages of all the fleet be in it.  
It was no time to be spent in answering courtesies, for the Giants be many and strong, and die willingly in defence of their ship, that by this was at the last to be conquered: for with the queens help, and the Trebezonians diligence, the two Sultan's were constrained, rather than to fall in the hands of such fierce warriors, to leap into a Pinnace, in whose succours many others came, among which, was the Galeon wherein he came from Nyquea, into which they went, grieving for the loss of the other, which was one of the best in all the Fleet. Whereof never a man suruide, but every one perished by the sword, and they that fled that death, leaping into the sea, swallowed it in water of eternal sleep.  
This victory was not so clearly won, but they lost ten galleys of Trebizound, which the Pagans sunk, who also kept them company with some of theirs. Leaving the conquered vessel well manned, and displaying on the top thereof the arms of Greece, victoriously they returned into their own, and with all speed the Emperor commanded the Pilot to hale towards the Tower, where there was most to do, for the two brave Competitors being there, would suffer none to come thither without loss of life.  
We have no reason thus long to forget the mighty Bembo, Lord general of the Pagan army, who espying the Greek Admiral, supposing that most of her Princes were in her, made with his against it. The noise of the vehement shock was such, that it seemed no less than the encounter of two huge rocks. The Greeks got the best, by reason she bore her beak higher, wherewith she bruised all that side. Here do they fight as if they were on main land, for Galley to Galley, and ship to ship, being grappled together, the arm must only procure the victory.  
Oh Bembo, who would not wish to see the busied in the things thou didst never exercise? For firmly fixing thy feet on the ships side, & with thy sword twixt both hands, executed blows the Mars would have thought impossible, but as in the other, there were such knights, his deeds did nothing amaze them, neither Don Celindos, nor his brave sisters, who were confronted with the haughty Emperor Trebatio, his son Rosider with the beauteous Rosamonde, that with victorious courage did behave herself, giving no stroke but it field an enemy into the deep, that seeing they must die, had rather do it by her hands, devoured or consumed, either in the water, or with fire. She eagerly pursued Don Celindo, and followed him more than she should: for the Achayan seeing her so near him, discharged a flourish on the best helm in both Navies. It made the blood gush through her mouth, and bend her head as low as her fair breast. She conceived such mortal hate against him for this blow, that first the general Greek wars ended, before it was extinguished.  
Nevertheless he scaped not unpaid, for trusting to her Arms, (although Floraliza gave her a fierce thrust,) she lost not her intended blow, which she executed on the Pagan's shield: which is no defence against it, for the blade is the best on all the earth: and therefore clean in two it parted his shield, in whose making, Lupercio had shown such skill. It daunted the Sarazen Prince, for he had never seen his Armour cut. Yet there stayed not the furious sword, for lighting upon one side of his Helm, cutting, it descended down to the shoulder, where it lost his force, making him stagger back. And then she would have leapt into her adversaries ship, had not then come against her, the Giants of his guard, that made her violently retire. Idle were not Father and Son, behaving themselves there like Samson, among the philistines.  
And on the other side, the two friends, Bramidoro of Cerdenia, and the strong Brandafidel, with his flying unaccustomed weapon, who sometimes, with it, at one blow field three of those deformed Giant. On the other side, was this ship likewise boarded, by the valiant Prince of Assiria, so fiercely, that had not the good Theban Duke been near to her, she had been entered: but his coming, with the Duke of Medynas, intercepted their adversaries from their purpose. Ashamed was Bembo to be so repulsed, not knowing his adversary. Some paid dearly for his anger, for returning to his place, he met with Olivia's Lover, something careless of him, being carefully busied against the Giants.  
With a downright blow he struck him. The Pagan's arms were not of such weakness, as that his blows should be received without ward, for it forced him to set his hands on the hatches of his ships, and before he rose or were succoured, the Achayan seconded another, nothing inferior to the former. There is no Hyrcanian Tiger that may be compared unto the great Emperor, seeing his son so used. He clasped his sword strongly twixt his hands, laying the weight thereof upon his helm. Never till then, did the Sarazen feel such a blow, for his sword slew out of his hands, and he set both knees on the hatches. At his rising, a pellet of Brandifidels' weapon, did hit him on the breast, and depriving him of breath, made him recoil back. Well did the two brothers know him, but they could not deny their duty unto their General: and therefore together they requited the Giant with such blows, that stumbling backwards, he had like to have fallen: and had they been able to reach his head, they had field him: for few arms were like to theirs.  
With such eager fury did Rosamond seek Bembo, that she did not respect the others strokes, whom brandafidel well befriended with his terrible Mace: for with it, he struck aside the two brothers, that bravely defended their party: so that the wrathful Lady passed along, and with both hands gave the Sarazen Lover a mighty blow. All the top of his helm with a great piece thereof, she struck away, and wounding him a little, she made him tremble like an Aspen leaf. Ere the Pagan could turn himself, putting forth her arm, she gave him a dangerous thrust on the breast. His Armour and privy coat it pierced: and Lyrgandeo saith, his flesh felt the blade. But howsoever he gave back yielding from the sword, a manifest token that he feared the point. So well could not Bramidoro, and Brandafidels blows defend her, but Floraliza found opportunity to give her one with Camillas sword about her helm, with all her strength. She greatly felt this stroke, for it made her turn amazedly about.  
With another full as great, seconded Celindo, with Queen Julia's cutting blade: it fell on her shield, whose enchantment being far ancienter than that of his sword, it could not cut it, but it struck it so violently against her head, that she was very much astonished.  
Forward stepped Bramidoro King of Cerdena, to pay what Rosamond did owe (for the furious Bembo not seeing him, and meeting with a Giant in his place) with both hands he gave him so terrible a blow, that he constrained him to set both knees on the ground. So busied were father and son against the Achayan, and another, that he had time to bestow another at his helm, it was with such mightiness, and discharged (as he could not more desire) that he field him all along upon the hatches, to the astonishment of every one that saw the Battle, to enjoy whose sight, many left their sights, for of four to four, a fiercer Combat could not lightly be wished. Ready to burst with rage was Rosicler now, seeing the Achayan was only he that disturbed the entrance of that vessel. He closed with him, and with both hands they either discharged upon the other, such puissant blows, whose echo was heard over all the fleet, the which, both Navies horror could not drown.  
With much courtesy they received one another, bowing their heads very low. So enraged was the Pagan seeing his shield in pieces, and his head wounded, that it made him second an other before Rosicler was ready. It was like one of those he used to execute, making him touch the hatches with hands and knees. He could not add any more, but raising his sword, with it he reached brandafidel (surprising him unawares) upon his arms: It was a miracle he did not cut them off, yet it enforced him to let go his Mace, dragging it along, not able to wild his arms through pain.  
This did Trebatio well note, ending then the dispatching of a Giant to hell. At one step he confronted Bembo, whom before he could settle himself, the Greek gave so strong a blow, that maugre his might, he struck him away from him: and said to his friends, that their pursuing particular Combats, made them lose the general battle, their enemies so much exceeding them in numbers.  
It was as the Emperor said, for indeed they had the worst, having every vessel of their own assaulted by three and four of their adversaries, and yet the courage and valour of the Christians was such, that it supplied the want of men. All had not been sufficient, had not at this time, some five hours before the setting of the Sun, Eastward appeared at one instant, two proud Fleets, that with a fresh gale made towards the Battle, not seeming any whit to assault each other.  
And from the coast of Niquea, was also descried a number of barks with soldiers. Both Navies feared, not knowing to which they would incline, for that side was sure of victory, whose part they took. At once they both approached, yet in different manner: for that which coasted more along the land, came altogether in one squadron, discharging their ordinance. The other kept with the wind on the seas, and in form of an Arch, with their greatest vessels in the midst, lingering nothing behind. Whose arriving, and what they were, deserves a new Chapter.   

CHAP. XXII. How in the Greeks' aid there arrived the mighty Abstrusio, and the King of Tharsis. With Sacridoro, King of Antioch, Pollidolpho, and the Persian Prince.  
THere is no content that might be equalled to mine (fairest of all fairs) if I durst but imagine you had with some pleasure overpast the beginning of this Naval conflict: the which favour were solely sufficient to add thereto such an end, as every worthy accident therein happened did deserve. For that Fleet which coasted more along the shore, entered among the Pagan's side, that for all they were so many, were not able to forbid it, nor to break their order.  
This was the famous Abstrusios' Navy (than who upon the seas was never any more skilfuller) and bringing with him, so many men & well furnished vessels, with an ifinit number of brave Knights, advancing aloft the Greek arms, he passed through his enemies with winde-blowne sails, and oars, in mosthorrible manner: crying Grecia, and his country. He kept such good order, that ere he lost it, he made mortal destruction on his enemies, for his smaller barks entering, where greater could dot, did nought but cast wild fire, melted pitch, and scalding Lead, which was present death to those that only defended themselves with the sword. Armed like Parthians, were Abstrusios' followers with bows and arrows, wherewith before they fell to handy blows, they bereft a number numberless, of lives.  
Which horror of shafts being past, it was admirable to see with what bravery they betook themselves to their weapons. They were all expert and exercised in war, because they lived in it continually, against their neighbouring Islanders. Wherefore the Sea began a new to float with dead trunks of men, with such horrible outcries of the wounded, because they could not before death revenge themselves, that there is no heart so stony and remorseless, but would have been moved to pity.  
Sylla that wished to see rivers of purple gore, had here been satisfied with sight of seas of blood. The mighty general Abstrusio did set himself upon the hatches of his galleon, doing what Mars durst not imagine: on either hand, Lysart did accompany him, with his son Florisart, desiring to make manifest their affection to the Greek. The Giants that were appointed to guard the fair Serynda, were cyzed like tall high masts, clad all in steel, with Iron Maces in their hands. A better defended vessel was not in all that Fleet: for not dreading any thing, it went forwards sinking all it met. The furious Bembo having seen the merciless destruction of his men and Galleys, had commanded his to be ungrapled from the Greek Emperors, to send succour where it most needed. He was strait espied by Abstrusio, that presently sent those that followed him to board her, leaving way for his encounter. The beak of whose Galleon was all of Iron, fastened even down to her keel, which made him presume on more than was lawful on the seas. So seeing how well his Galleys had assailed his adversaries, not omitting his intent, Abstrusio entered with his, running with such force against the side of his adversaries, that he split her clean in two, and had almost endangered himself: for trusting to his strength, he would have leapt into her when she began to sink, and they within her, cried out for boats to save themselves. Oh Bembo, here didst thou show thyself to be whom thou art: for leaping into a small Barge, he opposed himself against Abstrusio, as if he were in as good a Galleon as his. The Pagan laughed at his folly, and noting him more narrowly, by his colours he knew him to be his enemy's General.  
It gladded him, thinking to have taken him prisoner. But the haughty Lover that had his life reserved to endure greater troubles, made his valour there known to the uttermost, and how in deeds of arms he would be second unto none: for though he was beset on all parts, he so bestirred himself, that neither his adverse General, nor Lysarte, with his sons power, could enforce him from his standing. Presently was he succoured and taken into Lindauros' Admiral, died in blood and so enraged, that he would speak to none, nor any durst look on him. To be in such unaccustomed brunts amazed him, and more, not able to learn, nor guess whom his adversary was, that making such destruction of his, had succoured the Greeks. From this imagination was he put, hearing the entry of the other Fleet nothing inferior to the first.  
divers were the voices heard, for some cried, Babylon and Persia, some Antioch, others Croatia, and all at once, Grecia, and then let fly such volleys of shafts, that no less havoc they made, than Abstrusio. Whose arrival utterly vanquished that wing of the Pagans: And Sacridoros' Admiral where Oristoldo was, passed close by the Tower, which none else had done. It astonished both Father and Son, to look upon the two Competitors, Bramarant and Brufaldoro, who with their ponderous blades suffered none to approach the Arches: to do the like arrived Bembo, making himself strong between the Pillars that sustained the Tower, where he animated himself with gazing on the Lady he most affected, that opening the Casements, then knowing none of them, had set herself to behold the battle.  
She appeared like the Sun of may, in all his glory, chase away the dusky Clouds from about him, that would obscure his brightness. There was none in all the Fleets but turned their eyes to gaze on her beauty. Many knew her, whereof one was Oristoldo, who thus said to his Father. This is the season wherein we must procure to liberate you Ladies thence. For the fairest of them is Lyriana, whose carrying from Nyquea, cost our friend Rosabel and me so much blood, and more labour. And believe me not (dread Lord and Father) if these knights have not purposely taken their standings there, that none might prove the ascending to the Tower.  
As they were thus talking, they descried two knights of rare disposition, coming in several Barks. The one was presently known to be Don Eleno of Dacia, whom (being departed from Pollidolpho) Nabato had guided thither. Of his help there was no need: for the Pagans had then the worst: yet he entered as he was accustomed, covering the frothy waves with dead carcases. He assaulted no particular knights, but the fierce Giants. Quickly was Rosamond advertised of his coming: whereat she strait commanded her Royal Galley to waft her, where he was, she met him. Her Armour was well known of every one, and so her beloved Dacian also knew her. He leapt into her Galley, embracing one another with entire love. It was no time for long discourses, so having kissed the Emperor's hands, the two Lovers began to perform such deeds as were incredible, but not to those that to their cost beheld them.  
The other knight clad all in Rose colour Armour, none as then knew: but approaching near the Tower, and viewing his Lady, he conceived such content, that he suspended his fight, till he had well noted the possessor of his heart. He became so fierce with that sole sight, as he judged nothing, the subduing of both Armies. Casting his shield behind him, and taking Hector's sword twixt both hands, at few blows he was known to be Rosabel, to the exceeding content of all his friends. In this enchanted Boat, he fling to the Arches of the Tower, but he found them so well defenced, that neither his friend Aristoldoes help, nor his own strength, could make his way to them: For the three famous warriors being in a rank, with such bravery behaved themselves, that every one judged the approaching to the Pillars impossible. With Brauorant closed lyriana's Lover, crossing his sword on high: nimbler he was than Scythian, and so with all his strength before he could ward it, he discharged a furious blow on his helmet, the which had it not been of such force, even with his head it had been cleft, yet he forced him two steps back. Into his Bark he would have leapt: but the Pagan (enured to such blows, although it much grieved him) returned, and with a thrust drove him back again, as fast as he came forward.  
Few blows like unto these had the Britain felt, but seeing the Ladies looked on him, and also his Father, and Graundsyer, that were come thither, returned unto his place, where he began one of the fearcest Combats of all that day. For against the other Bark wherein Bembo was, came Don Eleno, no less furious than Mars: and Brufaldoro was confronted by the Emperor Alphebo. He the first executed his blow, was hasty Dacian: so close grappled were the barks, that they could fight as sure as on land, and therefore Rosamonds beloved, with Brutus' sword, flourished it twice aloft. Well perceived Bembo his intent, wherefore leaving his Helm bare, gave him a strong thrust on his amorous breast: the which taking him as he stiffly stood, and with his mind another where, it was a great chance he overthrew him not, but made him stagger into his Bark. After him would the Pagan leap, but as swift as a Leopard returned the Lover, and ere he could do it, with both hands he discharged his sword, in such manner on his helm, that he thought he saw more stars than the heavens contained: and bore so heavily on the one side, as he set his left knee upon the ground. Another seconded the Dacian a little lower, descending down the shoulder: a better blow was not given in all the Battle, for it cut away all his Vanbrace, with his sleeve of Male, and somewhat wounded him. The Pagan trembled at the blow, and knowing that was he which overthrew him in Grecia, he animated himself, for he was greatly vexed to see his cross fortune, and began to show, he was no less than Bembo, Prince of Achaya. The Emperor Alphebo that knew his enemy, warily assailed him, although he quickly broke off order, for the Moor remembering him, will not use tricks of defence, but give and receive without pity. So at once they laid on their helms. Both kissed the ground: the Emperor with one hand, but the Mauritanian with both, and both knees. The Greek seconded another, bearing his sword outwards: which offer he had scarce made, when turning his hand, with all his strength he thrust at his breast: thence the point glanced to endanger the Moor, more: for if he had not yielded to the thrust, clean through he had been thrust, for happening twixt the buckles, it ran to the other side. None saw the blow, but judged either the Moor to be dead, or deadly wounded.  
Who having escaped that great danger, became more furious than fire smothered within a Basseliske, charged with powder: And recovering his former place, casting his Shield at his back, began so with blows to weary the Lord of Trebizond, that almost he could not fetch his breath: yet not in such sort, but he often astonished the Moor, and made him to feel his strength and fury of his arms.  
All this while was not trebatio's Nephew idle, with Brauorant, the flower of Paganism, for their fight is worthy the sight of the towered Ladies. It was more dangerous for the Moor, because the Lover supposed his Lady had known him. He never showed himself more skilfuller nor fiercer. Many particular battles were left, only to behold that of the six. Both are well armed and sure from being wounded, which made them fearless abide one another's strokes. Like a chafed Boar foamed the Scythian, seeing so many adversaries to resist him, and more they that could hazard his battle, as he that then was before him, who refusing no labour, entered and retired at his pleasure. Nimble and active was the Pagan, and so helping himself therewith, before the Britain youth could turn about, he executed a blow upon the rich helm which Eufronisa gave him, whose fine temper saved his life, for else it had divided him in two: yet it made him set his hands to the ground: ere he rose, the Pagan discharged again a flourish on him, nothing inferior to the other. It was somewhat besides his head, and not able to make impression, it glanced away without more harm, although it had done enough to enrage him. With more fury issues not the Tiger from his den to seek his prey, than he returned upon the Scythian with Hector's sword, strongly clasped in both hands. Above four lost the vermilion of their faces, seeing the fearful blow descend, whose noise was heard over all the armies: his helm sounded like a bell, and he voided much blood through his mouth and nostrils: and staggered up and down, not knowing where he was. With such another he helped him, which forced him in amazement, to set his hands and knees on the hatches of his bark, wherein he would have leapt, if the two brothers, Don Celindo and Floraliza, had not there arrived.  
At once they both eagerly discharged two blows on him, that he was constrained to bow lower than he would Quick and bold was the Lady, so would she have won the entrance of his vessel, but she had like to overthrown herself: for the Emperor's Admiral being near thereto, and the haughty Rosicler knowing his brave son, and seeing him so ill used, like an Eagle leapt into his boat, saying. Courage brave Prince, for your father is with you. With the blow he gave, she was forced back, and for fear of falling into the sea, she withheld herself.  
His son could not answer him, so enraged he was, imagining some show of cowardice had made his father come to succour him. And his blood repaired to his heart, the which burning like fire, and closing bark to bark, leaving his father with Don Celindo, he turned his revenge wholly upon the Lady, whose beauty deserved no such requital.  
Camillas army may she thank for her life, else this had been her last battle and term of breathing. Three steps he made her stagger backwards, and followed her with so strong a thrust, that he thrust her so far within the bark, that easily he won the entrance in despite of the Pagans. exceeding danger doth Meridian's daughter incur, fight with Rosabell, with whom no Lion may be compared. Again before the Lady recovered herself, he gave her another that had almost felled her. Never was she in such peril: but he that loved her as his soul, Don Clarisell, (that long had sought her) came thither in such good time, as it was worth no less than her life to her: who seeing his Lady so handled, let fly a cruel thrust at him. Against him that had struck him, turned the Britain youth, giving the Lady leave to rise and breath.  
Thither also arrived the furious forsaken Lindauro, with many mighty Giants of his guard, and seeing the cruel fight, and knowing the Lady (whom they all tendered) he went against Rosicler, that hand to hand warred with Celindo: he entered between them, parting both Barks, whereby the brother and sister turned both upon Rosabel. He did not refuse them, although the Assyrian troubled him every time he reached him. On every side else of the battle, the Greeks had plainly got the victory, which they bravely maintained. And indeed the mighty Abstrusio was he that won it, winning the title of an excellent Captain, which he kept for ever. There wanted not them that told him news of his dear friend Bosabels' arrival. It gladded his very soul, for as it he loved him. Him for gratitude doth Galtenor extol above all the Princes in the world. He told it to his beloved Syrinda, saying. Let us go to aid our Prince (dear Lady) for he that is so much indebted to him as we both, it is the least we can do. His strength and valour do I wish I had (replied she) to employ in the thing I most desire. With an embrace the Pagan encouraged himself, and commanding his Galleon to be directed towards the Tower, in a trice he rushed in among the Barks there. Easily he might have sunk them, with the advantage of his being the strongest & best in all the Fleets, but yet he would not, save enter them with his person. By his manner of fight he knew his friend, whereupon he committed his Galleon to the stout Lysarte, that showed himself that day to be a good warrior.  
The Greek Lover wanted now no friends, for on the other side came the haughty Oristoldo, all covered with Pagans blood. Abstrusio first arrived, whom every one feared, seeing him so stern and mighty: from his own to rosabel's ship he leapt, pronouncing his proper name. It much contented him to have such a friend by his side. Little could alicandro's Nephews win at their hands: for the Pagan merits not comparison with less than with Brauorant, and if he have any advantage over him, it is more than is known. In his assault he struck Don Celindo on the helm: had he done it with advise, it had been the last, with the latest moment of his life: nevertheless being besides his head, it falleth him headlong down. He clasped him twixt his arms, thinking either to kill or imprison him. Either he mought have done, if the gallant Don Argante had not leapt thither from his vessel.  
Of haughty courage was the youth, so upon the Pagan's bark he discharged a fierce blow, which made him leave Don Celindo, and turn upon him. Against them both would the Pagan defend himself, to his honour, had he place to wild about his strong arms: but there was such little room, as they were all heaped together one upon another. Yet Rosabell bravely keeping his standing, I know not with whom I may compare him, unless it be with him whom Fortune exalted above all knights: who, while matters thus past to eternize the Greeks fame, appeared in sight of both armies, like the God of war himself, whose arrival deserveth far more than another Chapter.   

CHAP. XXIII. How to the battle arrived the two Princes, Claramant and Claridiana: and what end happened to the adventure of the Tower.  
TIred with bloody conflicts of stern war, I now will return me (fair Ladies) to loves sweet pleasing battles, whither bringing those two that have the sole pre-eminence over all others in arms, and only to liberate the beauteous Lyriana, I shall not need to crave your favours thereto, for I trust (though not all) some will deny it me. This hope animates me to proceed in this labyrinth, and commit the two princes to your protecting smiles. Ploughing up the billows of the calm seas, they resembled the glorious sun, appearing through the clouds, displaying his fiery rays. As they approached, Claramant said.  
The world (brave Prince) is so full of your haughty deeds, that there needs no more trial to eternize them: wherefore let me entreat you at this time, to let me be foremost in this attempt, that presuming on your help, I may win some honour by your aid. Most warlike warrior (replied he) considering the necessity, you should not demand of me, what I ought to entreat of you: for where your axe hews his passage, there my sword is not required. So do as you will, for I mean to keep where I am, to enjoy the sight of your deeds. And as I think, there is more to do at the Tower then any where else. He needed not to have said so, for Galtenor that guided their bark, directed it thither.  
Strait did Trebatio's unknown son close his beaver, and setting one foot on the edge of his vessel, with his axe twixt both hands, he entered between both armies, crying: Grecia, Grecia, that none might strike him. There was none but much rejoiced, seeing one with Theseus' axe at one end, and the other, with the best sword in the world, defending his back at the other. More furious did not Hercules show himself among the Cennaures, nor Theseus beating at the brazen gates of Hell, than were the two Princes among those miserable Infidels.  
No blow doth the new Mars bestow, but rids his father of an enemy: who was overjoyed with pleasure, seeing the excellent disposition, of them both. He expressed it to the two Giants that were with him, saying. Have you ever seen any knights of haughtier disposition? credit me, these be they will win our victory. I think no less (said the King of Cerdina) for excepting my Lord the Emperor of Trebizond, I have not beheld any of better constitution and shape of body than the foremost. It is so (said brandafidel) but I'll be surety for the other, that he will not for his part lose any jot of the victory. Why then (spoke the Emperor Trebatio) let us behold the trial of their bravery. Quickly did they verify it to be true, for passing by the imperial Admiral, and thinking the Emperor to be there, they did their duty very gallantly.  
Swifter than the wind past their Bark forward, till it came even where Rosabell was: round beset with mighty enemies was the lusty Britain, for Epirabio a valiant Pagan, with others, exceedingly troubled him. So was Abstrusio by the rest that were in the ship, as is already said. Now Claramant arrived, and with a flourish swaying about his axe, he struck the Pagan on the helm: it is too weak to defence the head, for with a big wound he was felled. To succour him came the brave Assyrian Prince, who here got nothing now, for the rigorous axe will not pardon Love itself: the which was discharged on the midst of his shield: It cloven it in two, and had not his armour been Telimonios', his breast had been so too: yet he stumbled backwards, not knowing what he did. Then turned he upon the two valiant brothers, reaching Floraliza besides her helm: and although her beauty did not deserve it, he made her stumble as she would fall. At her did Rosabell let drive, felling her altogether on the ground. To help her hasted Don Argante, which was to no small effect, hitting Claramant a venturous blow on his arms, making him lose his, whose force could not but have endangered Don Celind● Like an angry Lion did the gallant Torisiano set upon Lyrianas ●●●er, and giving him on his helm a most fierce blow. It forced him touch the Bark with one hand.  
By this was Floraliza on his feet, who more furious than an Hyrcanian beast, with both hands raised Camillas sword, laying it on Rosabell before he rose. With a little more, she had laid him along: yet she stayed to give him a thrust at his rising, which she did with the utmost of her strength, driving him two steps from her. Disgraced was the Britain here, for either tripping one leg with another, or by the strength of the blow, he fell on his back at Don Celindos feet. Who thinking he had occasion by the front, would not omit it, for seeing him so stagger, he turned his sword about over his head, and discharged it at full on the Greeks helm. Doubt do the wise men, to whether rosabel's fall may be attributed. It extremely grieved Abstrusio that was hard by him, than who was never Lion more fierce.  
He met with Floraliza, that eagerly followed the Greek, on whose shield he laid the weight of his arms with his broad sword, in such manner, that beating it against her head, it left her senseless. He had time to turn upon Don Celindo, that would have kneeled on the Britain, whom he gave so mighty a stroke on his shoulders, that he enforced him backwards faster than he came. Then gave he the Pagan his hand, who quickly got on his legs, and so at his pleasure took his revenge on the brothers, that they were fully requited with interest.  
In this season was not Claridiano so idle, as to witness what his uncle performed, for never any knight did better back his friend. There was no Giants durst come near the enchanted bark, but in satisfaction of his presumption, left his life in the hands of the one or other. Sometimes would Claramant hitting his enemy with his axe, strike him even to Claridiano's standing, who finished the reckoning, bereaving him of his life, whose fortune brought him thither. The horror which was made there, seemed no less than if the whole frame of heaven would fall: for all the famous Pagans repaired to the Tower, maintaining the battle in an equal state where they were: but in all other places else, there was nothing heard but victory for the Greeks. Breaking through so many valiant adversaries rushed the enchanted Bark, till it confronted Brufaldoros'. It much pleased Claramant to behold the Pagans disposition, and with what fury he defended his arch. With thousands of dead bodies he had strewed the vast sea, having thitherto with honour augmented his fame: but the blind Goddess intending altogether to favour the Grecians, conducted thither the invincible Claramant, all died with Saracens blood.  
The Moor then ended the felling of the gallant Persian on his Bark, to poor Laissa's extreme grief that beheld it: who quickly saw him pay for it dearly. For as the Bark past all the Christian vessels, made the warrior way, somewhat he might revenge them for their sustained disgraces, and others (that weighed not their honours) because they would not meddle with him. Many left their fights, hearing that the Knight of the Lions combated with him that kept the arches of the Tower. With fresh courage entered the famous combatants. Most nimble was the Moor, and knowing his enemy's valour, with what advantage he had with his axe, he purposed to proceed warily in this battle, and help himself with that dexterity the heavens had lent him. So with his shield on his arm, and his sword pointing outwardly, stayed for him.  
The venturous youth did not respect nor care toward his adversaries blows, save only brandished his axe about, letting it fall where it would, but Brufaldoro was no knight to be assaulted so openly and carelessly, for letting the axe fly over his head, he set his knees on the ground, and in that manner he gave the Prince so mighty a blow on his left side. Had not his armour been so sure, in two he had been divided, yet it made him stagger as if he would have fallen on that side. This was the first and greatest blow that Claramant received. With more advise he turned, and being well settled, whilded aloft his axe. All his tricks nor agility availed the great Mauritanian king, for falling on the edge of his shield, all it reached was cut away, letting the cruel blow light on the Pagan's temples. Neither armour nor enchantment can resist the furious axe, for in sight of the greatest Princes and best knights of the world, the mighty K. of Mauritania with a dangerous wound was felled all along upon the hatches of his bark. Highly was the knight of the Lions extolled by all the beholders, for they that knew Brufaldoro, and at one blow saw him on the ground, could not imagine whom his adversary might be. With mighty fury did the bark pass forward as far as Bembo, at such time as the proud Moor rose in amaze, & flinging to his enemy, in his place he encountered the haughty Claridiano, representing the stern God of battles on the seas. Betwixt them both they began one of the fiercest combats of that day: for the Pagan rores and blasphemes against heaven, when thinking to be revenged, he met whom he imagined not, being so bravely to his cost resisted by Claridiano, that many times he was struck senseless.  
Many gazed on their fight, judging him and his companions of the Lions, the flower of both armies. Quickly did the furious Claramant, attract all the spectators eyes after him, who then had like to have incurred much danger, for bearing his aim on Brauorant, the valiant Bembo stepped under his arms, and in his passage gave him a dangerous thrust. There stayed the Bark, and ere the Greek could turn about his axe, Achayan was joined to Claramant. The Pagan greatly fearing the Greeks weapons, went as near him as he could, and so reached at his sword. With some amaze he made him give back, else he had easily drawn it. Claridiano did by chance perceive it, whereat with one step he was with him. Never did two knights better aid one another, than the kinsmen. At his arms he let fly a mighty blow, it made him forget his hold of the sword, and retire three steps, helped thereto with an envious thrust. And having performed his succour, he returned very quick unto his first place. For the Assyrian and Don Argante were come thither, to both whom he made known the valour of his person. More abashed than may be expressed. Claramant retired a little back (seeing what had happened him with Bembo) to fetch about his axe, which he did with such fury, that it caused chil cold fear in the hearts of the furthest removed, but not in the valiant Achayan, that nothing at all daunted, entered within him as he raised his weapon, and with his utmost strength he struck him on his thighs.  
A more troublesome blow had not the Greek received, for the pain thereof made him lose his. Whereupon he would have closed with him: but the mighty Bembo striking his axe outwardly with his sword, and before he could defend himself, he discharged it on his helm. He made him set one knee on the ground, and see the least stars in the firmament at broad day. Ere he could rise, he struck him again on the shoulders with no less fierceness. But all this cannot avail him, to shun what the cruel Mistress of inconstant times had decreed against him.  
For the Greek being well recovered, and strongly getting on his feet, with extremest fury of enraged wrath, with his remorseless axe, he met the achaians head. It cut away all the top, and a great piece on the side, and had killed him outright, striking something lower: yet in a trance he felled him down.  
And so bravely passed forth unto the third Arch, defended by the flower of Chivalry. There was neither friend nor foe but admired the knight of the lions fortitude. So well was he backed by his Cousin, that his praises with his uncles merits, were sung in an equal key. For there was no knight so hardy that durst but imagine to interrupt their passage, seeing their maintenance. Within reach one of an other, approached the two warriors. Either by the sole view esteemed his adversary. Brandishing his heavy blade, the Gran Campeons Nephew, prepared himself for his defence, with such aspect, that I know not he, would not fear him.  
Now manner of fight would Claramant have devised against him, considering his well knit sinews, and strong composed members. There he repent that little pause, judging it cowardice to make that small stay. With his axe on his shoulder and his left foot forward, he went against his enemy, that with his sword in both hands expected him in the same manner. A more fearful spectacle was never seen: for most of the spectators dreading their sight closed their eyes. So Claramant made as if he would execute his blow, but in the midst of his course he stayed his weapon, to take him unawares, as he fetched it about again. Careless was not the Scythian, but rather none like him, did with more wariness lay hold of advantage in the process of his battles. And so perceiving his adversaries intent, he closed with him so quickly, that when he would have struck him, the Pagan had executed his blow.  
There is no knight how valiant soever, that having received such a one, durst have expected an other: for this forced the Prince backwards within his bark, and dragged his axe after him. A thousand times would the Pagan have leapt after him, which he left, because he would not forsake his Arch. A braver blow in all that war was not given, nor never did Claramant receive a bigger, for it made the blood gush from his nose and nostrils. So far had the Pagan run within him, that he could not strike him with his axe, but rather Bramarants fierce son seconded it most mightily. Never did Trebatio's haughty son do, what at this instant, which was by stepping aside, to shun his adversaries stroke. And as he wished it, so he saw the stout Pagan follow the furious weight of his blade. Whereat the Greek settled himself on his left foot, and crushing one tooth with an other, with the utmost of his strength, he discharged his rage on his Helm. From it bounded the Axe, else it had battered all his head: nevertheless the blow so astonished him, that not knowing what he did, he staggered as he would fall.  
Whereupon Claramant bravely leapt after him into his Bark: the like did Claridiano, and either supposing the other would not strike him, they both at once executed two most puissant blows. Altogether without feeling, they felled him. Little honour got the kinsmen by the deed, for being two, and of such note, it was rather the Pagan's glory to be vanquished at their hands. Scarce was the blow discharged, when the Tower was all covered with a black thick mist, and with the same, with such horror was a alarm sounded, as in the beginning of the conflict. With thundering and lightnings, shrieks and hideous fearful cries, and terrible claimours, were both Armies affrighted: the cause was, that Lupercio seeing how his hopes were by Fortune crossed, procured to obtain by his Art, what with so many thousand men he could not get.  
But Nabato the Greek friend, that had more skill than he, with Nygromanticke spells and Conjurations, dissolved the others exorcisms, and so cleared the Tower as before. From whose highest top was a Ladder let down, by which two knights might well get up at once. Slow to do it was not the valiant Greek, casting his axe upon his shoulder, at such time as the strong Pagan rose from the ground. There is no Lion missing his pray, more fiercer than he, for roaring like a baited Bull seeing him with the axe ascend, he would have followed him: but Claridiano prevented it, confronting him, arm against arm, and sword against sword, and with a brave thrust enforced him back.  
Well did Branorant express his wrath by discharging his blade with both hands on the others rich helm, the finesse of whose temper, saved his life: yet it did not keep him from touching the ground with his knees, voiding blood from his visor. Thither rowed amain in their Barks, came with enraged fury, the two lusty warriors, Bembo, and Brufaldoro, by whose coming, Claridiano had incurred much danger, if they had entered: but the gallant Rosabel, that with Don Celindo and Floraliza combated, having approached so very near to bravorant's bark, he leapt into it, when Bembo arrived to do so. The Britain hindered him from it, driving him away with a brave thrust, not only making him lose his intent, but hopes of ever getting his desires: For the magnanimous Dacian rushing among them, interrupted Brufaldoro from aiding the Scythian. And so one with others beginning a fierce battle, the second Mars Claramant had time to ascend up the ladder, not without much pain, for unseen of him by whom he was struck, he felt himself mortally wounded. Unto the top of the Tower he arrived, with more courage than Hector amidst the Myrmedons, where he was opposed by two deformed Giants with heavy Maces. But as Fortune had vowed to favour him, like lightning he put himself among them, with the best weapon the world contained. In midst of the Gallery he stretched him at length, which being broad enough, oh who were able distinctly to dilate the wonders he performed, swaying about his axe: for the Giants only are there to fight, from whence they draw strength for their defence, and courage from their wounds: the which maketh our knight take the condition of a Lion, assailing and retiring, like an Eagle in swiftness: but the more he toils, the more doth it augment force in his adversaries, for their inchanment lies in tumbling down the way Claramant ascended. Long endured not this strife: for the Prince seeming to fear them, gave a little back, whereat they eagerly followed him, which he well noting, set on him that came foremost, and meeting him right against the ladder, he turned about his axe, with such fury, that with it he field the Giant over, who was never more seen. The Greek was of pregnant and sharp understanding, so he strait perceiving the cause, which made him avoiding a blow of the survivor, close with him, & suddenly hoisting him aloft, tumbled him the same way his companion went. If all the frame of heaven and earth had fell, it could not have caused more fear, than what surprised the hearts of every one by the giants death. So weary remained Claramant, that to ease himself, he raised his Beaver, to breath a while, and so he looked out at a window on the battle, rejoicing to see so many of his enemy's vessels to burn with fire. Long stood he not so, because the wise Nabato in company of the Ladies, issued out of an other fair Gallery. The Greek had not till then (since his enchantment) seen any woman, which made him admire these fairs, judging none might equal the chiefest of them.  
So the wise man approached, saying. Most excellent knight, you may account yourself in more than I may well express, having ended such an adventure as this, only reserved for the valour of your person, and virtue of those arms, the which until this instant, have cost you most dear: yet must you more endure, sustaining many dangers about them: and therefore henceforth begin to take courage. And as for what you have done for these Ladies, because in part it concerns yourself, they shall not need to thank you. And more in this matter I am not permitted to say till you shall lose your liberty, recovering then both father, mother, friends and wife. And while I live, will I assist you to my power, for my lions sake that is among you, whom I account as my son.  
So for this time ceasing, I commit unto your victorious hands, Lyriana the fair princess of Nyquea, espoused unto the valiant Greek Prince Rosabell, that below expected her, bravely backing you with your dear friend. Having thus said, he vanished, & Claramant taking the Lady by the hand, fairer than the sun, he led her down the steps, at the noise of such sweet music, that it much delighted both fleets. Thither repaired most of the valiantest Pagans, imagining the adventure ended. Oh Bembo, it touches thee more than any, & so more than human deeds dost thou perform, yet all avail not against thy contrarious fates: for the Greek Emperor seeing the adventures end, commanded certain Giants to row him there, with more fury to break through his enemies: with whom went most of the warlike Knights: He that best deserved in that exigent, discharging the hopes of him expected, was the brave Tartarian Zoylo, being high treasurer of all the fleet, who desirous to show how much he was indebted to Rosabell, chose out eight of the best furnished Galleys, both of sail and munition, and with them in a rank, he set himself along the Arches, that way to hinder his adversaries approach, although all their fleet made thitherwards: and so joining with Oristoldo, and his valiant father in his ship, with Abstrusios' bark, which was the strongest on all the sea, they bravely resisted the Pagans fury, that then seemed revenous. Nothing helped them, for then Claramant descended with his Beaver closed, because he would not be known by any. With a loud voice he demanded for Rosabell.  
far from him was not the glad youth, most joyful seeing his Lady sure from his enemies. She was delivered to him with these words.  
I do so much desire your content (most valiant Prince,) that to procure it, I have endeavoured to do thus much: and so in sign that I will ever be your friend while life endures, I present you with the spoils, only due to your valour. Whereto the Prince replied. Brave knight, I do not so much esteem the good you have done me by liberating my espouse, although my life depended thereon, as the generosity and magnanimity wherewith you do it, which is so great, that I cannot requite, save by perpetually acknowledging the debt you have bound us all in, and refer the satisfaction to your own merits, from whence this memorable act proceeds. The great hurly-burly broke off their farther speeches, whereat he returned, for the other Ladies and Rosabel with his in his arms, was conducted to the Christians Imperial Admiral, where the Greek Emperor received them with the greatest joy in the world. Presently was victory proclaimed for the Greeks: who being assured thereof, fought fiercer than at first.  
The sun with his absence parted that more than wondrous Battle: and so the Pagans fearing their utter overthrow, sounded retreat, leaving the third part of their vessels swallowed by the sea, with infinite number of Knights and Giants. They entered into counsel to see what befitted them. Voices were given altogether to end the battle: but in the end they resolved the contrary, because their adversaries held Fortune by the hand, and thereupon withdrew towards Nyquea, from whence with fresh supplies and new hosts, to turn upon Grecia they resolved. Some comfort was this to those that were like to burst with fury.  
Bembo would not be cured, till the soldan himself entreated him. So mad was Brauorant, that none durst look him on the face. The wise man, consolated and animated them, saying he did find by his Art, that if there do not come more supplies to Grecia, they should surely conquer it: for their party would be far augmented, by the uniting of many more Princes much wronged by the Greeks. With this they were appeased, although destitute of consolation. Nothing so were the Greeks, that all the night spent in joy and pleasure, not missing their lost men, though they were very many.  
The Emperor with all his sons, would needs pass into Abstrusios great and strong Galleon, to do him that favour. Who requested the kissing of his hands, but the Emperor would not, and embracing him, said.  
If I had known we had been all soldiers unto so brave a Captain, I had with better hopes expected the happy success of this conflict. What I did, in what degree soever, (most mighty Monarch he replied) was through imagination of the great content I hoped would have redound by my service, the which I assure eternally unto your Crown. All the warlike Ladies assembled together, where Archysilora made herself known. The Emperor took her in his arms saying. In faith, believe me fair Queen, our victory hath been too small, since procured by such hands. Rosamonde rejoiced in her heart with her coming, for they entirely loved. Then the Emperor sent for Venus, and Layssa, who brought with them their two little daughters, whose beauty every one admired. There also the grand Trebatio greatly thanked Pollidolpho for his good aid. And every one in general, were busied in the entertainment of so worthy a success.  
Through all the Fleet, the Emperor commanded the two knights to be sought for, that had ended the adventure: but not finding them, he was advertised how they departed in the greatest haste possible. After them had the Emperor sent, but that Nabato stayed him, that would not departed without visiting his Dacian, and speak to the Emperor, who entertained him as his deeds and merits deserved.  
He made reply according to his wisdom, persuading them not to grieve for the two knight's absence, whom they should see in other new contents, which the one should conceive until death, although the other, is so tormented with amorous cares, that the earth can afford him no pleasure, because the giver thereof is in this ship. None could directly suspect who he was, yet some judged him to be Claridiano, and they were the two gallant Ladies, Rosamond and Archysilora, who was comforted with hope to see him in Grecia, where she would assure him of his glory, and how that if she were beloved, he was no less. It was presently known by spies, how their enemies were withdrawn homewards. It nothing grieved them, in that for lyriana's sake, they willingly would have accorded to any good motion. Before that Nabato departed, he advertised them, they should not dissolve their Hosts, for that they would return upon Crecia, with the greatest powers on the earth, against which the fierce Lioness would rise, stirred up by the Russet Lyon. With this he took his leave of the Greeks, leaving them much bound unto him. A great while he conferred with Don Eleno, to whom he declared the cause of the future war, and that since he was the greatest cause thereof, he should procure to make known the utmost of his valour: because that party which should most respect him, would most oppress him, and would many times put him in imminent dangers of his life, yet all should honourably end, to his lasting fame, and Rosamonds. So he embraced him, vanishing far from thence.  
The next morning, the victorious Greeks in triumphant manner made towards Constantinople, having finished the famousest naval fight that was heard or read of. Forewards did King Sacridoro put forth, to be the first should bear those happy tidings unto the Empress, which he accordingly performed. And with prosperous winds, not long after they arrived all at Constantinople, in whose welcome, there happened what the next Chapter shall declare.   

CHAP. XXIIII. How the Emperor Trebatio with all his Fleet, arrived at Constantinople. His welcome, with what else happened.  
NO sooner were the furious horses of the Sun, harnessed in their bright Caparisons of shining light, ready to draw the golden Chariot of heavens glittering eye, through the Crystal paved ways of the Azure skies, expelling thence the dusky Clouds of leaden melancholy darkness, when the Greeks gallant Fleet containing so many Princes, and brave Knights, appeared in sight of the famous City of Constantinople, sounding so many military Instruments, as if that were the instant of the earth's general desolation.  
Such thick smoke of smothering fiery mists, raised the discharged ordinance in well ordered peals, that one vessel could not discern the other. Which passed, the Galleys and Ships began to show themselves, daring the winds with their proud streamers, and all their tops with dancing Banners made of silk, whose meeting displayed in the air, ravished the beholding senses with joy: which on the other side, was a corsive to the hearts of the afflicted prisoners, seeing theirs as trophies of the victory, set up among their adversaries. The echo on the water of melodious harmony of concordant Music, was a comfort to the poor wounded soldiers, who were all committed to the warlike Troyans' charge.  
The discreet Citizens were not all this while careless, but rather in preparations to feast their Prince had been most careful. All the Castles in the City welcomed them according to their usual custom, placing on the highest of every one, the emperors Imperial standards.  
To the sea side came all the gallant youths bravely Armed, and every one a blue scarf, and in their hands swords and daggers, wherewith they skirmiged as they went. In two parts they divided themselves to take the Princes in the middle, that then were coming forth of Abstrusios' Admiral. A most fair Bridge they set up, from the Galleon to the shore, with many stately Arches, all covered with green cloth of gold, and they with many curious Pictures, containing all the Greek Princes Battles and adventures. Who issued forth in this manner.  
First marched the Emperor Trebatio, between his two sons, representing such Majesty and cheerful semblance, that therewith his subjects were much gladded. A little behind them, appeared those three mirrors of beauty, Lyriana, Archysilora, and Rosamond, who to please the Princess of Nyquea, had put off their strong habiliments of war.  
They were all three attired in green, cut upon cloth of silver, and tackte with knots of Pearl, and between every cut, a button of rich Diamonds: on whose sparkling light, the reverberating sun dazzling thereon, deprived the beholders of the Lady's sight. Large & wide were their garments, with long sleeves hanging to the ground, all richly Embroidered, even much like the fashion now used in France.  
Other shorter they wore on their arms, laced over with great Orient Pearls, with cuts drawn through with finest cloth of Gold, faced with white and crimson, according to the usance of the Parthians. Their disheveled hair dangled down in trammels, whereon, there is not any, but would have hung thereon a thousand souls, and judge them too few for their merits. To conclude, they were so exceeding absolute in all perfections, that Apollo blushed to be excelled in beauty by human creatures, who to enjoy the contemplation of their excellencies, and surfeit in imaginary conceits of their rarities, kerbed with his reigns, the hasty galloping of his fierce and unstaid steeds. A little after them, followed other three, no less beautiful than they. These were the gallant Venus, the brave Layssa, with the fair Syrinda. They would not change colour, and therefore were all in Crimson, cut upon Gold.  
Next to them, the excellent Empress, Claridiana, attired according to her Majestic state and gravity: yet with such exquisite beauty, that the former six became envious of her fair. She passed on with the mighty Abstrusio, whom all the Greeks much affected. The rest of the ladies were all richly appareled. At the end of the bridge, upon a triumphant arch, stood three images, most lively representing the first three ladies. Not far from them, three Sirens, with Amber tresses dangling to the ground came forth, and playing on several haps, sung several notes one after the other, thus.  
From the Lilies is she hight,  
Robed with Imperious might:  
Yet she stains the Lilies white.  
When she had done, than the second turning to the Queen of Lyra, sung.  
Earthly thing gives not her name,  
Earth cannot express the same:  
Heavenly 'tis, and thence it came.  
The third, with no less sweetness, remembered Rosamond, in this manner.  
Though last, not least, but with the best,  
The worlds sweet Rose is well expressed:  
A fair paire-royall ever blest.  
Having all ended, they recorded them together, with such recording voices, to the consort of their delightful music, nothing different from Angel's harmony. And as they went under it, from the opening of a Cloud, spread under the Arch, after a tempest of artificial thunder and lightning, there reigned down, an odoriferous shower of sweet water-dewed fragrant flowers, whose comfortable odour, revived all their sea-weakened minds.  
Before they had passed it, from the thickest of the same Cloud, there descended three mighty Eagles, either with a coronet of flowers in their bills: and whipping the air with their great wings: they with them, crowned the three most gallant Ladies. So soon as they were gone by, and Venus with her company come thither, the three Sirens, to a new dulced tune, with one voice sung this note.  
another fair payre-royall of like fame,  
That doubtful 'tis, which hand will win the game.  
The twelve Governors of the Empire, with all the courtiers and gallants of the City, expected their landing at the shore: where twelve ancient Peers, clad in long robes of cloth of Gold trailing on the ground, took the six Ladies under a cannabie, whose value exceeded estimation, and in that equipage marched forward, till they stayed to behold a Castle, erected and drawn on four wheels: within they rung a alarm bell, crying, Nyquea, Nyquea: advancing on the highest of the same, three Ensigns, with the Lady's arms.  
Then in rich Armour issued out thereof, three well accomplished Knights, who aloud made a challenge, to maintain they were the Paragons for beauty and fortitude. There wanted not enemies to defend the contrary: for from the same Castle came forth nine knights, between whom, they began a brave combat at barriers.  
Then began the Castle to move, discharging so many fireworks, as if it were all on a flame. The Ladies would not mount on horeseback, because they were very near the chief gate of the City, through which the Theban Duke issued forth with the imperial Ensign: who entreated the Ladies in the citizens behalf, to dispose of the City as their natural Lords. They returned their thankfulness according to their states, highly esteeming of their solemn entertainment, which had so exceedingly contented Lyriana, that she accounted all her forepast troubles well bestowed, since they had brought her to so happy end. In all the Court there was not any but came to see the arrival of their Princes. In opinion was the Lady's beauty had, whether of the three was fairest: for lyriana's sight had attracted all eyes. And in no less admiration were the others had.  
Such press of people were in the streets, that had not the Emperors guard gone before, they had not been able to pass. But being entered into the yard, new matters did happen, for an alarm bell was with fury rung in Lyndabrides' enchantment: which ended, they heard a most heavenly noise of sweet music. There was none but demanded the cause of that unaccustomed accident. Whereto the wisemen answered. That by reason of the Nyquean Princess coming, the gates were opened, that every one that would, might freely prove the adventure. Very great pleasure conceived the Emperor Trebatio thereat: so did the grand Alphebo, imagining the end of the adventure was at hand, so much by them desired.  
I do omit (fair Ladies) to shun prolixity, their new welcomes in the Hall: only remembering Oliuas joy, with the sight of Lyriana and her son Rosabell, whom also with the other Ladies, sons, and kismen, the Empress Briana, most kindly entertained. Few days after, was the Britain Prince, with the Princess of Nyquea, married by the patriarch of Constantinople, being first baptised, which sacred and divine Sacrament, Rosamond would also receive, for her dear Lords sake.  
New triumphs had been ordained, but that the proof of the disamorous Tower did intercept them: for as the promised reward was so great, every one procured most, to show himself most forward in that adventure.  
Dinner being done, there wanted no knights that offered the trial, but as it required such great valour, ere the sun setting, there was hung about the Tower, above two hundredth Shields, every one placed according to his masters deserts. drown would Apollo his clear light, in Thetis watery lap, when through the place there entered a gallant and well accomplished Knight, clad in rose colour Armour, and bravely mounted. His disposition pleased every one. Who galloping along, leapt from his saddle, and with admirable bravery passed into the Tower. Many suspected he would end the adventure, seeing with what courage he ascended the defended steps. But four he wanted, when unable to go any further, he was senseless cast from the Tower, having his shield set very near unto the haughty Troyans'.  
This knight was a valiant Pagan Lord, of Lesbos I'll, not far from Troy. Who having landed a little after the Ladies came thither, at such time, that he well made known the prowess of his person. Scarce had this stout Pagan lost his entrance, but Lyriamandros' haughty son, named Tersildo, presented himself, to be no less valiant than free from the unwieldy yoke of of love. His Armour was of Azure colour, with many stars of Gold. In the midst of his shield, was portrayed a knight treading on Cupid, having his Bow and Quiver broken: with this Motto.  
love resisted is a child,  
Suffered, is a Tiger wild.  
And a little lower.  
The scourge of heaven, and earth, hell, sea, and land,  
Is scourged and mastered by a human hand.  
There was no Lady there, but grieved at his free device, nor never did they more wish any knight's vanquishment, as this: thinking it was an injury unto their sex, to have him live at liberty. Quickly was their desire satisfied: for proving the entrance, he did courageously arrive as far as the Pagan, whence with like violence he was cast forth: whose unhappy chance did greatly please all the Ladies present. The night's approach with sable coverture, taking her place in Phoebus' absence, broke off the instant trial: whereupon the Emperor with his company returned to the Palace, where was open reveling.  
Rosabell danced with Lyriana, and every Prince with his beloved Lady, to their incomparable joy. All which, did but more and more grieve the Queen of Lyra, for wanting her Claridiano, she was not capable of the least pleasure: so was she there present only, but in person, for her soul wandered to seek him. Just guerdon for her strangeness, which she long time was forced to suffer: for although he was in the Greek wars, none knew him (as in the fourth of this part shall be expressed) nor would he be known to any, imagining his Lady to be still displeased with him: whose sight did sufficiently strengthen him to tolerate his pains. But now we are enjoined to leave her, and the disamorous proof to explicate the manner, how the Princess Roselia, and Arbolinda of Scotland were liberated, whom in the Forest, three miles from Rome, we left enchanted.   

CHAP. XXV. How Claridiano and Claramant arrived at the Port of Rotta, where they found the strange enchantment of Roselia, and what haughty deeds of Chivalry they there performed in the company of Alphebo, Brauorant, and Don Celindo.  
Ploughing the foaming Billows of the vast deep sea, with their enchanted bark (most beauteous dames) we left Claridiano and Claramant, with no small joy, for the good success of the valiant Greeks, and yet much wondered at the little reason the Nyquean soldan, had not to accept as his son in law (whom Darius would not have refused) the famous Britain Rosabell, Competitor with Mars himself in arms: and for state and royalty, equal to the Greek Macedonian Alexander. Of these & such like matters did the two Greek warriors discourse, admirnig to behold, with what swiftness their bark cut through the swelling waves. And to see whether they could discern any Haven or Arbour, not long after they descried one, the fairest and safest that they ever saw, the which Claridiano overjoyed thereat, told his uncle it was the famous Port of Rotta, three miles from the renowned City of Rome, whereat they desired to land, because they wished to see a place so glorious as that.  
Their will was quickly accomplished, for the Bark with incredible Vellocitie came a shore in the same Haven, where the Princes imagined they were to abide: whereupon landing and mounting on their Horses, they took their best way to Rome, which Claridiano partly knew, having before been there. And crossing a great wood, they came into a fair plain all dyaperd with Flora's fragrant Tapestry, over which an Imperious Castle seemed to command: whose lofty height and topless Pyramedes, controwled the starry Firmament.  
In midst thereof, stood an Alabaster Tower, five ways squared, the workmanship thereof, greatness and altitude, amazed the Princes. At every edge of the square, it had three Bulwarks of finest jasper, so that the middle Tower was encompassed with fifteen Bulwarks. Round about, it was Moted, with a broad deep Ditch, over which, fell a draw Bridge, to pass it: at the farthest end thereof, there stood a mighty big Crystal Pillar, on which hung by Chains of gold, five rich Horns, a little beneath, a Table with Letters, that yielded such splendour, as they almost deprived the beholder's sight. Greatly did the Prince wonder at the strange rich Edefice, and so Claramant said.  
Truly (most excellent Prince) this seems to be a most gallant adventure, if we may judge it by the strong fortified bigness of the Castle, Tower, and Bulwarks, whose like, mine eyes till now did never yet behold: nor is it possible they should again see such another.  
And therefore I much desire to read the Letters of the Table, if you so think it good, to be certified thereof, for least I be deceived, this should be some Enchantment: and if it be, of no small esteem should the person enchanted be of. Answer would Claridiano, when through the air they heard a hideous noise, by the rising of a sudden whirlwind, with such horror, that it seemed to lead a Legion of devils after it, leaving the way desolate by which it passed, renting by the roots all the pines, oaks and elms it met. This sight confounded the Princes, who looking to see the end, they saw a black fog rise over the ditch, whose obscure aspect, deprived Titan of his bright rays: but a little after, the Welkin cleared, and Apollo being restored to his former light, they discerned the Bridge raised above ten fathom high, hindering the passage over: and on this side, there was placed an other Pillar, but of Brass, with an inscription of Emerald Letters, that signified the adventure. Not speaking one to another, they went to the Pillar, and having learned all manner of languages, they could read this in the German tongue thus.  Let none, (though Mars in Arms) be so daring as to pretend the liberty of Roselia, unless they be five Warriors, whose famous deeds have through the world extended their eternal glory: for till they shall be together in this Forest, the passage over the Moat shall be granted to none. 
Whereupon Claridiano took occasion thus to speak unto his uncle. I think (heroic Prince) it is in vain for us to offer to prove the adventure, seeing the words say, there should be five that must do it together. Oh how should I rejoice, were we now accompanied with the strength of Paganism, Brauorant, Bembo, and Brufaldoro, that we might undertake this enterprise: but seeing the wise men have thus ordered it, let us if you please, go unto the populous City of Rome, where you shall see such antiquities, that without admiration you cannot behold.  
Be it as you have said (mighty Lord) replied Claramant, for I will in all things obey you. As these famous Princes of Greece were about to tread the next way to the City, they heard a great noise towards the sea coast, as if many knights were in battle together, whose horror of uncontrowled blows, was no less than that of Vulcan's Aetnean workhouse. Slow were not they that were borne to fight, in pricking their swift steeds thitherward: and having crossed the Forest hard by the shore in a fair plain, they saw two sturdy knights in Combat one against the other. A third of no less gallantness mounted, and leaning on his spear, beheld them.  
To him went Mars his Competitors, and after due courtesy, Claramant thus said. You shall not a little favour us Sir knight, to let us know the cause of so terrible fight, which in mine opinion, will not cost less, than either's life, with such fury they prosecute it. So much have your kind words bound me, (Sir knight answered he) that I cannot in honour deny to satisfy all your demand. Know therefore, that you big knight in Russet armour, is called Brauorant, one of the strongest that this day breathes: who having taken part with the soldan of Nyquea, in his last expedition against Grecia, where he lost most of his ships and men in the Naval battle, as no doubt you have heard: this knight left him of purpose, to sail unto his kingdom, to assemble new powers against the Greeks on the soldan's behalf, having sworn utterly to destroy them. And I, Don Celindo by name, desirous to see the high deeds of this most famous warrior, did offer myself to associate him, which he refused not. So to morrow will be eight days, we departed from the soldan's Fleet, in a well rigged ship.  
Long sailed we not with prosperous weather, but were by a cruel storm cast on this shore: where finding this Knight, the valiantest (as his fame memorateth) that ever the spacious world hath known, we knew him strait to be the Emperor Alphebo of Trebizond (for treacherous Lupersio had conducted him thither to end his desire.) Whom Brauorant knowing to have been on the Grecians side, and remembering the weight of his cruel blows, did on the instant challenge him: and for this slight occasion, they so batter and mangle one an others Armour and flesh.  
No longer stayed Claridiano, but understanding that knight to be his father, drew forth his sword and stepped between them, with these words. Withhold brave Knights, for so fierce a quarrel is not lawful on so small occasion, since the loss of either will be a noted want unto the world. Whereat the courteous Emperor leaving, replied.  
In faith (brave Knight) were it but only in respect of your gentle speech, I would have done it: how much the more, when I win thereby, wanting an equal estimation with this knight's valour.  
How mild the Pagan was, being mildly, used, & how tractable is already expressed: who now hearing his adversaries gentle words, did accordingly make his answer to the Emperor. So greatly have your friendly words inchayned me to your obeisance (most mighty Lord) that though this knight had not requested it, I would have desisted from the combat, especially, it being my advantage, considering how Fame through every mouth blazoneth your worth, and my unworthiness. As claridiana's Lord would have answered, Claramant intercepted him thus.  
If (most valiant knights) the greatest part of your rigorous battle, hath been to manifest unto the world the rareness of your unmatched strength, wherewith the heavens hath armed you, then go with us, where there is occasion offered, whereon you may more securely employ your redoubted valours in lawful attempts of bravest arms, which may be undertaken with more sufficient reasons, than you began this your slender quarrel. For know, that at the end of this Forest, in the midst of a fair plain, we found a Fortress, which we judge to be the strongest on the earth, and reading certain letters insculped in a Table, we perceived it to be the enchantment of the Princess Roselia, daughter to the Emperor of this land: and more, that none but five knights together, whose fame the world should report to be admirable, should prove the adventure. Wherefore since you be they (according to the conditions required) it were unjust we should neglect the liberty of so great a Princess. And although my companions merits and mine own, be not in the least degree, such as the adventure challengeth, it shall satisfy us to march under the shadow of such worthies, to end a more harder enterprise. Whereto Alphebo replied. I am content to offer my person to the proof, although in me there be nothing meriting your praise: but the controversy had with this knight, hath been enough to teach me to imitate his valour. I, & to have stolen some part thereof from him to encourage me to this attempt. It shall not be left for me, (said Don Celindo) for in the company of such knights, the hardest is the easiest to be achieved. Then Brauorant, it is not lawful the liberty of so great a Lady should be remitted through my means, although my fame nothing deserves your estimation. Then let us no longer delay the trial of so happy a proof (said Claridiano:) who presently spurred his swift Courser, leading the way unto the brave enchantment. Followed he was by the flower of arms: that altogether in short space arrived at the deep moat, where they admired the greatness and exquisite workmanship of the Castle, whose like they accorded the world contained not: especially when Alphebo said, it excelled that of Lindaraza, where he disinchanted his father, as in the first of the first part of this great History. No sooner were these valiant warriors arrived, when the drawbridge (that yet stood on high) was let down, which having passed, they stepped to the Pillar whereon the horns hung. The engraven scroll of the Table they thus read.  When the five warriors the adventure doth require, shall be here together, if they be of such daring hearts, as to prove it, let each of them hang one of these horns about his neck, and winding them, the Castle gates shall be opened, and they may enter. 
In performance thereof, these mighty Princes were nothing slow, but every one lovingly embraced one another, they each of them presented themselves before either of the Castles, whose gates presently flew open at the shrill founding of the horns, the echo whereof, was also heard within the City of Rome. Through the door that befell unto the invincible Alphebo, issued a deformed ugly big Giant, mounted on a lusty Courser, with a strong knotty lance in his hand, having a pike of well tempered steel, above two handfuls in length.  
Him Alphebo received with the swiftest running of his horse, the like did the Giant, with such fury as the earth could scarce bear them. They met so strongly, that the giants big lance flew in pieces, against the inpenetrable shield of the knight of the Sun, whose shivers hissing through the air, mounted higher than the proud top of the enchantment.  
The giants mighty spear was not of strength to pierce Alphebos thield, the which was resisted by the magic spells wherewith Lyrgandeo had forged it: yet was he cast backwards over his saddle bow, losing the rains out of his hand. I know not to what I shall compare the Emperor of Trebezounds encounter: for hitting the giant in midst of his shield, he pierced it, together with the plates of steel, and privy coat, whose enchanted power unable to defend the lance guided by so brave an arm, he ran it through his left side, mortally wounding him directly on his heart, against which the strong spear bending, he broke it, and leaving a piece in the wound, the rest flew into the middle region of the air. So passing forward, they met with such a shock, that it deserves eternal memory: for as the two warriors, encountered shield against shield, and body with body, the haughty knight of the Sun, first ran against the Giant upon the spears truncheon, which he so vehemently thrust through his body, that it cloven into his miserable heart: yet he scaped not so free, but felt himself so bruised on his Corneryno, that the poor horse was driven to strike his buttocks on the ground, along whose back his Master fell, in such amazement, that he knew not whether he was in heaven or on earth.  
But recovering himself, and judging it cowardice, he set spurs unto his horse, which made him fetch light carreirs upon the ground. And looking after his adversary, he saw him lie upon the earth, voiding his blood as through a river: by him lay his horse with his shoulder broken, and both at one instant accompanied each other in death. A little rejoiced not the courteous Emperor at his speedy good success, and after his due thanks to God for his victory, would not proceed until the end of Brovorants' battle, whom he judged one of the best knights of the world, wherein he nothing deceived himself. Who having sounded the rich horn, whereat the Gates burst open, whence came forth a well proportioned Giant, both bravely mounted and clad in defensive arms, with a huge mace of seldséene greatness in his hands.  
Against him made Bramarants' son, brandishing his lance above his head: so did the Giant with his mace: but in the meeting, Campeons Nephew missed his encounter, running his spear through the head of his adversaries horse, who as Bravarant passed by him, discharging his mace with such strength in the midst of his shield, the which (though enchanted) it battered and descended to his helm: where it fell so heavily, that maugre his courage, it made him bend his head below his breast, and void much blood.  
There is no Lion crueler, nor chafed Bull more furious than is now the invincible Scythian: for having well recovered his seat, & drawing forth his slicing blade, with more fierceness than a thunderbolt, he looked for his enemy, whom he saw on feet, with his mace aloft. Against him he went, but first bravely leapt from his horse, and gripping his sword strongly twixt his hands, he neglected to watch his advantage, but let fly at the Giant: so did he, and at once executed two blows worthy such warriors.  
Venturous was the giants blow, for lighting on his enemy's helm, although it could not break the enchantment, it forced him to tumble headlong on the paved floor, where he thought he saw the twinkling of more stars than is in the firmament. The Giant had no time to vaunt of his victorious blow, for with another nothing inferior, his shield was cut in two, through which the sword descended to his helm, cutting away all the one side thereof, with all the top, the which had it fell right, his head had been cleft in the midst: yet fell he to the ground on his hands, amazed with the stroke. The haughty Emperor not a little admired the strength of the combatants, much esteeming the Giant, considering Bravorants disgrace: whom he animated, (though needless) with these words. Courage brave warrior, for there is much to do: but making the world know the utmost of your singular valour, with it we shall easily liberate the Princess Roselia. Though almost choked with choler, and blaspheming against himself, (for no God he confessed) he turned his head at those words, and seeing the Knight of the Sun not fight, because he had already killed the giant, there is no tongue able to explicate the fury that entered the fierce Pagan's breast, supposing that knight excelled him, when he would not acknowledge Mars any superiority. And accounting it base fearfulness to let a single combat endure to the third blow, foaming through the mouth, he raised his sword and went against the Giant, that was already up: who well noted with what fury he came, and trusting to his Mace, crossed it overhead, whereon fell the strongest blow bestowed in his time. For being possessed with the utmost of extremest rage, & bravorant's son desirous to make known the might of his arm, he discharged on him a fierce stroke worthy his valour) which falling on the mace, (whose enchantment being of no force) it cut it like as it were of wood, and sliding to the shoulder, where his armour was not able to resist the sharpness of the sword, (guided by the strongest arm that ever the Gyantive nation knew) it sliced him in the midst, dividing the brutish body in two parts: which deed the Knight of the Sun so admired, as he judged him to be son to such a father. Little had the fierce Pagan thought he had done, whereupon like an infernal fury he entered the gate.  
All this while was not the Heroic Claridiano idle, for in the opening of the portal, at the shrillness of the horn, there issued forth a mighty Centaur, with a big dart in his right hand, and in the other a chain, by which he led a cruel Lyon. This sight daunted not the second Mars, but swifter than a Roe he pricked against the Centaur, that expected him, brandishing his stéely dart, the which, ere the prince came near him, he fling at him with all the strength of his arm, it ran through the shield, and wounded him a little on the breast, piercing his armour, whose enchantment could not withstand the sharpness of the spear.  
The Prince hit the Centaur in the midst of his breast with such puissance, that had not his plates of fine tempered steel, (wherewith he was armed) defended him, he had been then slain, yet he so thrust him back, that staggering up and down, he fell on the ground, at such time as his horse passed on, which stumbling on the Centaur, fell shrewdly on the earth, where it had cost Claridiano no less than the price of his life, had he not used his dexterity, wherewith he leapt at one side from off his back before he fell, the which scarcely touched the ground, when the cruel Lion with his paws seized on him, and rend him asunder piece by piece, which much availed for the Prince's victory, for whilst the Lion devoured the horse, he discharged at his pleasure the weight of his arms upon his head, of the which, as much as the murdering sword did take, was cut away: yet the blow was not sufficient to kill him outright, but rather roaring amain, it forced him leave his prey to fly at Claridiano, closing with him so speedily, that he could not shun him, but with his sharp claws held him so hard, that he crushed his crimson blood through his armour, griping him closer than doth the little Remora cleave to the keel of any ship, to hinder her swift course.  
In great anguish of mind was the warlike Greek all this while, feeling himself so fast bound between the lions fangs, and seeing the Centaur come against him with a heavy naked sword. No remedy found Mars his Competitor, but to draw his dagger, and stabbing it into his belly, forced the Lion with the pangs of death to leave him, the which meeting with the Centaur, not knowing what it did, catched at his breast, which with his claws he rend, letting forth rivers of blood through his mortal wound. Whereat the fierce Centau●● forsaking the Prince, raised his blade on high, and with it divided the Lion in two. Which done, trailing the one half with him, he marched towards Claridiano, who wondering at the sight, did so too, and on his shield took the beasts blow, which he requited with a point that he thrust at him, which penetrating his plates of steel, wounded him to the death.  
Roaring like a Bull, the Infernal Monster towered his sword aloft, which when he would descend, he was stayed in the midst of his course, by the remorseless stroke of death: whereat he fell down, at the time that Claridiano thanked his God for the victory. And imagining his companions were afore him, he passed on through the gate. No less fierce was Claramants renowned battle, for in the end of the horns shrill sound, there appeared a well disposed knight, richly armed and mounted, bearing a Lance in his hand, and a big Cemitor at his saddle bow. Our new Mars nothing feared him, but spurred his horse against him, and meeting in middle of their course, their shivered lances flew into the air, giving place unto the furious shock of their bodies. trebatio's son was feign to get about his horse neck, for fear of falling, having almost lost his bridle: but recovering his seat, he spied his adversary lie on the ground, groveling under his horse, striving to get from it.  
Courteous was Claramant, and so alighted to help his enemy, which kindness he had like to have dearly bought, for through the gate that the knight issued forth, flew out a hideous terrible Griffon, who suddenly surprising the Prince, clasped his body about, and with his sharp talents crushed his armour within his flesh, and vehemently fluttring his wings aloft, raised him a little, purposing to have mounted on high, and then to let him fall, and beat him in pieces against the stones.  
It happened not as the beast intended: for the Prince noting how treacherously he had been assailed, and feeling his flesh bruised in many places, and his armour with his own blood bedewed, stretched forth his arms on high, more enraged than an angered Tiger, and getting hold by his wings, plucked him down, making him lose his pretended flight, and so both fell on the ground.  
And the haughty Greek being of great force, turned upon him, where refusing to use any of his weapons, being extreme wrathful, he seized on either wing, which with the utmost of his strength, he plucked away by the roots, leaving the trunk without motion, voiding invenombde gore from the wounds. He performed not this so safely, but he had his helm cleft in two, & a small wound on the head, the which the ugly beast had done with his enchanted bill, whose death prevented his further danger.  
By this was the knight recovered, and with his shield and sword marched against the Prince, but what avales it: for bryana's son being swelled with wrath, tarried for him, with his axe, who directed a blow towards the disarmed part of his head. The angry Prince would not receive it, because he would not endanger his life, but leaping at one side, gave place unto his enemy's blows, whose sword ran almost to the midst into the ground, and he himself followed it.  
The occasion would not Claramant forego, but like a Falcon at his prey, stepped to him, and with his axe struck him to the earth, where he tumbled up and down. So Claramant desirous to make an end, closed with him. But the knight with the fear of death plucked him upon himself by the skirt of his armour, making him lose his blow, and casting his arms about him, thought to get some ground of him: but the unhappy knight missing his purpose, the gallant Prince held him fast, and setting one knee upon his breast, with his dagger opened a passage through it for his hateful life, sending him to be wasted over the infernal pool, by the black Ferryman of hell. Thanks did he render to the god of his father for the victory, and without further stay, as he would pass on, he heard a great cry, and turning his head, he saw it was a Giant dragged about the feels by his horse, with one leg hanging in his stirrup.  
The cause was, that Don Celindo having wound his horn, and his Castle opening, that Giant on a mighty Courser issued forth.  
Agaifist him went alicandro's Nephew, but b'ing over eager, missed his encounter, and was by the Giant struck along his horse back. Either passed by the other bravely set in his seat, where drawing their strong swords, they laid such load upon their battered crests, renting their armour, and mangling their flesh, until the Giant slipped his body aside, to avoid a blow that Don Celindo let fly at him, reentring with a strong point with all his strength. This offer of the Giants got him no less than the victory: for the inhuman wretch missed his thrust, and running the sword between his arms, it slid down the armour, bringing the giants head upon Don Celindos horse neck, inclining it downwards, who seeing him so near, and not omitting so good opportunity, struck him on the helm with his sword hilts, overbearing him on that side he most declined, which was the occasion of his fall from his horse, and thinking to have stayed himself, thrust one leg so far into the stirrup, that when he would, he could not draw it forth: whereat the Giant noting his disgrace, drew his dagger, minding to cut it, but so unfortunate he was, that somewhat annoyed with the former blow, he mortally wounded his horse belly with the stroke, the which feeling it, with extreme pangs of death, fetching a Carreir, ran about the field dragging his master after him, where both ended at once, leaving Celindo thanking Fortune and his Gods for his good success. Through the gates of those Towers that befell them, entered he & Claramant, and yet not with such haste as claridiana's Lord, that having seen Bravorants good hap, no longer delaying the time, fearing to be out gone, he passed on till he came to a large yard of strange work. And round about it, there was a Gallery supported with twenty pillars of clear Crystal. In the midst of it, stood a fair Fountain, distilling water through divers pipes, encompassed with Rose Trees, and other Odoriferous flowers. On the top of the Fount, there was a rich and precious Armour of inestimable value, lying upon a Table of silver, with twelve feet of gold, whereat hung a brave sword. At the entrance to the yard, stood a reasonable Pillar of Brass, whereon was written certain words with Letters of Rubies. No further would Trebatios eldest son pass, till he had read the scroll, containing thus.  What Knight soever would end the Adventure, it behooves him ere he pass farther, to win these Arms, for considering the keepers, he shall have need of them: But if his courage fails to do it, let him go on, for the passage is free. 
So great pleasure and liking he conceived of the armour, that although he had not intended to prosecute the adventure, he would have spent a thousand lives to obtain them, such was his valour. Then covering himself with his shield, and vnsheathing his sword, he entered the yard, and going towards the Fountain, he saw it guarded with so horrible a Serpent, able to affray any but Alphebo. She was of a spears length, and a brace in breadth. Four feet she had, and two arms, armed with nails of steel, a handful long: and teeth too of that kind.  
Of these Serpents, do ancient writers make mention, to be dull, heavy, and drowsy: insomuch, that no small noise will easily awaken them. A while stood the Emperor still, to see if she would rise: but noting her slothful sleep, he went more near her, greatly wondering at her horrid fierceness, misdoubting human strength against so terrible a monster. But his heroic breast, being unacquainted with any fear, recommended his safety to the supreme King of Kings, and with his sword struck the ugly beast on her defensive scales, whereat, with hellish horror she awaked. Against her went he when she being on her feet, with her scaly tail, she struck him so fierce a blow on his body, that the Greek staggering, had like to have fallen, but that his back stumbled at the Pillar, where he stayed. This much enraged the Emperor, who like a basilisk awaighted her, he avoiding an other stroke wherewith she approached him, and then he discharged his blade in all possible haste, upon her ribs: but it happened not as he thought, for the sword rebounded back, unable to batter her scales, at whose strength he much wondered: and being about to second a point, she entered upon him: raising aloft her arms. Careless was not the warrior, and misliking her embracements, wreathed aside his body, and as she would have closed, he turned his sword, and therewith cut away her hinder legs, making her fall flat on her buttocks, howling at the pain of her wound. And lifting up her trunk on her arms, swoong about her tail, and hitting him on the shoulders, she field him on his hands, and as he rose, got hold of his Armour with her nails, and (furious with pain) rend away half of his armour, and had not he been wary to look to himself, with her teeth she had made an end of him.  
But he seeing half his body disarmed, and fearing a disastrous death, shook himself from her, having two pieces of his armour sticking in her jaws, imbrued in his purple blood, that issued from the wounds she had made him. There is no fury of Hyrcania, like to claridiana's Lover, seeing the yard besprinkled with his blood, and himself unarmed: that taking his sword in both hands, on the Serpent's back, he executed the bravest blow that ever knight performed: for happening in the midst of her body, and the strong scales unable to resist the sharpesse of the blade, guided by the best arm in the world, she was parted in two, and the gates of her life opened to entertain the fréezing air of cold death. Infinite deserved thanks rendered the Greek to his Creator for the victory: and taking off his torn Armour, he went to the bubbling Fountain, and being vexed with thirst, drunk of the Crystalline water, remaining as well and lusty, as if he were neither wounded nor had fought, blessing the water and he that made it. But looking on the arms, he saw them to be the richest he had ever before seen.  
They were of russet colour, full of white and red stars, made of Diamonds and Rubies, enchained one by an other, with knots of Gold. The shield did nothing differ from them. In midst of it, was the picture of a Knight, naturally resembling the knight of the Sun, when he maintained the beauty of Lyndabrides, under the title of the knight of the Chariot, as the first part of this History remembered. He was also mounted on a horse, the counterfeit of Corneryno. The motto thus.  
His power cannot be withstood,  
That hath horse, arms, and cause so good.  
Slow was not he to arm himself with these arms, and having in mind the liberty of Roselia, like a whirlwind he passed through a door he found in the yard.  
All this while, the furious Brauorant was not: idle for having ended his first battle, he entered the gate from whence the Giant came forth. Through Limbo he thought he walked, so exceeding dark was his way.  
A great while did he grope about the wall on either side, to find and issue from that dwelling, until he found a door: the which, although it was of strongest steel, yet he quickly battered it with the pummel of his sword. Forward he passed, and in the end, he found himself to be at the gate of a fair hall, in midst whereof, there stood the confused picture of a mighty Giant, made of Brass, with a sword in one hand, and in the other, a big shield: and as the stout Scythian would enter in, the Fantasmo made against him. No whit at all was Cmpeons nephew afraid, yet stood in great confusion, not knowing in what manner to make his battle.  
First arrived the Fantasmo, and with incredible force executed his blow on Brauorant Helm: who having no shield to ward it, was constrained to set his knees and one hand to the ground. A point was seconded with so strong a thrust, that hitting him as he was disordered, it laid him along upon his back. Upon him went the Fantasmo, yet missed of his intent. For the strong Scythian did cast his arms about his neck, felling him to the floor, and in the fall, being within his reach, he gave him such a blow on the misshapen face with his fist, that therewith he rolled him along the ground: and rayfing himself, went against the ugly shape, that being up did the like: but he avoiding a blow, with a flourish on high, he descended his cutting blade, paring away some of the shoulder, and half his arm. Which no sooner was done, but that part turned into an ugly Giant, who having a Mace of Iron in his hand, said.  
Think not (fierce knight) thy strength able to end the adventure, for all the united power of the universe shall not free thee from my hands.  
Much amazed was the starve son of Bramarant, seeing the Giant before him, yet with most invincible courage he prepared himself for the Combat, and so coming towards him, offered to strike at his head, which made him lift his Club to defend it. But Brauorant withdrawing back his strong arm, stepped in with his right leg, and ran at him with a mighty thrust. It cut all his Armour, and mortally wounded him on the belly.  
Vnrecompenced went he not away: for the Giant swaying his Mace about, he struck him therewith on the breast, and field him to the earth, but he quickly rose, ready to burst with rage, blaspheming against himself, from which passion he was put, by the approach of the Phantasmo that came to wound him. But he scaping it, would turn his edge upon him, but with the back of his sword he struck him on the helm, that it made him stagger a good way from thence, and then swifter than an Eagle, receiving the giants blow on his blade, it cut his Mace of Iron clean in two. Which when floraliza's Lover spied, he closed with him, and crossing his legs with the others, he bravely tripped him down, felling him on his back, and then he stabbeth his dagger into his brutish breast, making him belch forth his soul to him that long before that expected it.  
Now could not the vallerous youth so cleanly go away with this good hap, but that he was hit on the helm a heavy blow by the Phantasmo, the fine temper thereof saved his life, yet was he in a trance laid along. On the shoulder the enchanted shapeless Picture seconded another, which made him tumble on the ground, and as he went to thrust at him a furious point, he got on his feet, but so blind with rage, that forgetting what had befallen, he took his sword in both hands, and with the utmost of his strength, he discharged it upon his shoulder, dividing the Phantasmo clean in two. He had scarce executed the blow, but the courageous Pagan repent him thereof, for each part of the accursed Phantasmo, turned to a mighty Lion, whose ferocity could not but have feared any other save Brauorant. It amated the Pagan, yet not that he fainted, but with more bravery then in the beginning, held the point of his sword before him, letting the beasts come, whereof one thirsting for his pray, ran upon his sword, splitting his heart in two thereon. The other assailed him on his left side, where finding no resistance, fastened his claws on him: and although his Armour was strong, yet he pierced them, renting his flesh within, which but more kindled his fury, seeing his blood there shed, which till then had happened in no fight before. Bramarants' son would not imitate Samson in that action, because it should not be said he followed the example, but rather performed an act no less memorable, for letting his sword hang by the Chain at his wrist, he took the Lion by the neck twixt his hands, and with incomparable strength choked him, himself remaining both wounded, and with his Armour rend. There is no joy like to his, having ended that perilous Combat, and although he was weary, yet went he forward, fearing his companions would be before him. No less famous were claridiano's battles: for vanquishing the keepers of the first Castle, like a whirlwind he passed on, making stay at a little narrow Lane, seeming to have no end on no side.  
Amazed was Archysiloras gallant, at the obscurity thereof, yet he went on, and coming to the end, unawares he did tread in a hollow place, falling into a vault, filled with nothing but Worms, and venomous Vermin. It was but six yards broad, and eight long: It yielded no more light, than what issued at a little casement, where he espied a very old man, swarter then Chimneys sooth, who with a hoarse voice said.  
In faith (brave knight) you have got very good company among those Worms, on them you may execute your revenge: but I fear they will first take it on you with their venom: and therefore your best way is not to strike them, if you will not be slain: for 'tis better to prorogue your life a little, than nothing to enjoy it. exceeding great was the Prince's wrath, seeing himself so betrayed into that pestilential Cave, and having understood the Magicians words, blind with rage he replied.  
Small is the Conquest, got by such treachery, thus to betray any knight: which assures me, that he (which made this Enchantment) was more enured to treasons then good deeds, seeing without battles, by undesent stratagems, he prosecutes his devilish intent and purpose. Why then, that I may see how thy words will agree with your deeds (said the infernal conjuror) there be within that place, two beasts, to whom all the rest acknowledge their obedience. Now if thou be'st so hardy as to encounter with them, on their deaths depends thy liberty: else art thou for ever there enclosed. Although extreme wrathful, yet glad in some respect, trebatio's Nephew answered.  
I am content to hazard my person in any danger to issue hence, and for an instance thereof, show me the way I must go forth, and then place the beasts there. Be it so (returned the Magician) and in yonder dark corner there is an iron King, the which if thou dost pluck at, thou shalt descry whence the beasts do issue. Slack was not the Princely Greek to go thither, and getting hold of the King, he plucked so hard, that drawing a Plank from the Wall, he fell backwards, with it almost upon him, but fearing the sudden coming of the beasts, he quickly got on his feet: when against him there came a Monster of strange shape. His body was proportioned like a Bear, save that he had a long Tail, and crooked teeth, like Tusks, and on his head, he had a horn near a yard long. His arms were nothing differing from a man's, being footed like a Lyon. In one hand he bear a Bow ready bended, with a steel Dart. And in the other, he had a Chain, which tied a mighty basilisk.  
Nothing daunted with the sight, was Claridiano, although a little amated at their fierceness: but having an eye at the Dart, drawing his sword, and covering himself well with his shield, he marched against the ugly misshapen Monster. Who shooting his Dart, did make it fly swifter than lightning. The Prince warded himself, receiving it on his shield. And then the Monster having so done, he let loose his Companion, marching both together against the Prince. He also encountered them, and meeting first with the Monster, he let fly at his head, striking away half his horn, with all his jaws on that side. Before he could second it, the basilisk with his stéely Bill, struck him under his arm, that it made him stagger three or four steps, and stumbling on the wall, saved himself from falling. In manifest danger of his life was the Greek, for the wounded Monster roaring with pain, closed with the Prince (ere he could recover his last mischance) and casting his arms about him, would have plucked him backwards.  
Here Alphebos son could no otherwise but do the like, and having greater strength, and being more nimbler than the Monster, slipped one arm between his legs, and hoisting him aloft, he fling him to the earth on his back, and as he drew his Dagger to end with him, the furious basilisk fluttering his wings, flew on his shoulders, where with infernal fury, with his enchanted Bill he struck the Prince on the head, that it made him lose his blow and that good occasion, and with his helm cloven, field him a toside. In which season, the Monster rose, spitting fire through his hellish mouth.  
Strait did claridiana's son rise, but being half astonished of the blow, the Monster had time to run at his breast with his broken horn, which made him so recoil back, that he had much ado to save himself from a fall.  
But what avails it, all being for their worst: for the Prince (stifled with rage) took his Dagger in his one hand, and not knowing what he did, aimed it at the basilisk that came flying at him. Straighter than the Monster shot his Dart, he fling it, and hitting him in the breast, it stayed not till it cloven his heart in two, and flying out at his back, fell with the beast at once, that with a hideous shriek stirred no more.  
This death greatly displeased the Monster, who bellowing, and spitting sulphur flames, leapt to the Prince that set his swords point against him, the which he took between his tusks, and rising on foot, would have plucked by the Prince's skirt, but that he saved it with his shield, through which, as if it had been of some composed clay, he thrust his claws into it.  
The haughty warrior did let it go, and raising his right hand, (letting his sword hang by the Chain, the which he had already drawn from the Monster's mouth) he would needs make the Magician witness his unequalled strength, for closing his armed fist, he gave the deformed Monster such a buffet, as he strewed all his face with his own brains, making his eyes fly from the head, and he himself bellowing, fall dead at his feet: to the Prince's exceeding joy, though not to the Magicians, that would not any longer stay in the Window. Whereat the victorious youth without farther delay, fearing to be outgone by the rest, past the door he had so dearly discovered.  
Admirable were these battles of the second Castles, that happened to Alphebo, Brauorant, and Claridiano: yet nothing inferior to them, was heroic Claramants, for having done with the first, he stepped through the Gate, receiving innumerable blows, not knowing by whom they were given: making him set his hands and knees unto the ground: neither his shield nor terrible Axe availed, not seeing his adversary.  
This so tormented our second Mars, that he began with all his strength to strike on either side, still keeping his way forward along a fair Gallery, and being near to the end thereof, the blows ceased, at the opening of the wall whence came forth a wild Savage.  
In either hand he did lead a Centaur, bound with a Chain, bearing in their hands long Cemitors.  
The haughty Warrior not fearing them, with his shield about his arm, and raising his Axe with the other, went towards them. At first the Savage met him with an iron bat, leaving the Centaurs behind him: and at the Prince's Helm, he let drive a terrible blow. Claramant lifted his shield to take it thereon, the which was driven with such fury to his head, that he could scarce keep himself from falling. With admired speed the Centaurs aimed their Semitors at him: And then he bravely turned his Axe, striking one upon his breast, felling him in a sound, and with a counterbuff he cut away the others arm with his Scimitar.  
Vnrepaid could not bryana's son scape, for the Savage seeing his Centaurs so entreated, discharged his bat upon his shoulder, with such monstrous strength, that maugre his valour, it struck him down, falling upon the astonished Centaur, that then would rise, who seeing him so near, did cast his strong arms about, crushing him so hard that he could not stir, giving the Savage occasion again to raise his bat, discharging it directly upon the Prince's head.  
But he seeing it descend, with the utmost of his strength, on the sudden got from between them, some half yard away, and so avoided the Bat, striking the Centaur so venturous a blow on the breast, that he opened the portal of his heart, with hideous horror, to vent forth his living breath.  
Incomparable was Claramants content of this great good success, yet was it not sufficient to expel his wonderful exceeding rage, which made him as nimble and swift as a Roe, get on his legs, even when the Savage seeing the ill hap of his stroke, did discharge another.  
Lightly did Claramant shun it, and so the bat finding no resistance, ran one half of it into the ground, and before he could fetch it out again, the Prince with a downright blow easily cut asunder both his arms, and turning again upon the Centaur, with another mighty blow, he clave him from the head to the breast.  
And so leaving him dead, and the wild Monster roaring with pain, he would have passed to enter the breach the beasts had made in the wall, but he saw it close, not knowing by what means, and ignoring the cause, with raging fury, returned on the Savage, & with his axe wounded him in the middle, parting his brutish body in two: at the instant the wall opened, whereat thanking his Gods, he went thorough the door, fearing his stay might yield some advantage to his companions, the which he would not acknowledge Mars to have over him.  
No less strong than venturous, was Don Celindos Combat, for when he saw the giants disgrace, he valiantly put himself through a Cave, and being at the end thereof, coming to a great gate, he did tread in a hole, falling: yet happily as it fell out. For before the gate, there was a Vault, covered with a board made less than the mouth thereof, and fastened to a round pole, whose ends crossed the hole at one side, and so treading hard on the board, it overweighed the one side downwards, whereby he fell in: but the holes mouth being narrow, and his sword hanging by his side, in the fall it crossed upon the hole, and so he hung thereat, over knees in water.  
This unthought mischance, daunted Meridian's son, yet recommending himself unto his Gods, he lifted up his arms, and raising his body, cast it flat over the board, and as light as he could, with much ado, he got out of the hellish place, thinking himself now to have new risen from death. He had scarce gone thence, when he heard the voices of certain men, and listening, he heard them say: Come, come, let us go apace, and we shall see how well the Rat can swim.  
A while stood the youth still desirous of revenge. It was not long deferred him: for through the same gate that opened into a garden, there issued six swains, every one with his Bill in his hand. More destruction makes not the hungry wolf among the tender lambs, than floraliza's brother of those villains, saying. See here you villains, the Rat scaped from your trap, defend yourselves from him. By this he had already cleft one to the waste, and ran an other through the body and heart. Amazed were they to see that the knight had scaped their trap, and so trusting to their advantage, they made him sometime kiss the ground with his hands, and then with his head: yet all did but increase his rage: For Alycandros' Nephew being abashed to let them hold out so long, so swoong his sword among them, that he field one dead, an other with shoulder cut: an other without legs: and the last, armless, and all wanting their souls, he sent them post unto hell: finishing with their lives, the end of the entrance of the second Castle, and staying no longer there, he entered into the Garden.  
Now is the time (admired Ladies, Goddesses of those souls that adore you) to lend me a little pity, (the ornament of your sex) equalling your magnificent bounty, with your rare and divine beauties, suffering the sunny rays of your sweet favours, so to strengthen my harsh quill, (although immeritable) that I may express the fiercest battle that ever Mortals heard of, worthy to be achieved by none but the mighty Alphebo, deserver of the world's greatest Trophies.  
Who having put on the best and richest Armour in the Universe, took his shield about his Arm, and with his unsheathed sword, put himself through the gate in the yard, staying in a room darker than Erebus, and from the door thereof, issued sulphire flames of fire, making it resemble hell itself: and looking within the door, he saw a great Hall, all of a fire: wherein there was a huge Salamader, as big as any horse.  
She had a great head, fashioned like an Eagle, with a steel Bill, with claws of the same metal, of excessive length. Moreover she had a long tail like a Serpents, and did nothing but void volleys of fire through her mouth.  
Much amazed was the Emperor at the strange fashion of the beast, especially, not knowing how to make his battle: for if he enters the room, so great is the fire, that it is like to consume him: and therefore he made a noise, to try if she would come forth, and so he struck his sword against the gate, at which noise she arose, but would not move: and being up, looked at the door, yet stirred not, and did cast more fire from her mouth, than a smiths double bellows raiseth with blowing.  
Many times was Alphebo about to follow after her, but judging it overhardie boldness, he would detain himself: yet calling to mind his companions might out go him, he thought the danger too small. So drew he forth his dagger, and stepping to the door, he threw it at the Salamader, and the mark being so great, and aimed by such an arm, he miss her not, but thorough her ribs he made it fly up to the hilts, launching out her gory blood. The wound did not harm her, for licking it with her tongue, it healed, but yet it put her into such pain, that any other but the Emperor would have been affrighted, hearing her hideous howling, and having an eye at the causer of his extreme pain, with two jumps she was with him. Back stepped the Greek, thinking she would have followed out, but he rested amazed, seeing she did not, but kept still within, roaring like a Bull.  
Well did the Trebizonian Lord note it, and therefore taking his shield about his arm, and commending himself to his God, with his sword he marched against the beast, and offering to strike her, she being watchful, turned about her scaly tail, wherewith she made him lose his blow, and recoil three steps back. But being angered therewith, he returned with more advice then in the beginning, and hollowing his body at her tail that came again in the same manner, he thrust a point at her breast, running his sword a handful into it. She shryked most horribly feeling the wound, and in the instant did spit so much fire, that some overtaking him and getting into his Helm, it so heated him, as he thought his face to be a mere coal.  
Two steps did Alphebo go back to avoid the fire, whence he saw that the beast touching the wound with his tongue, it presently healed, and she instantly set herself at the very edge of the door.  
It greatly confounded the emperors senses, to see he could not devise how to vanquish her, and imagining her virtue consisted in licking her wounds, he determined to strike her on the head where her tongue might not reach it: wherefore covering himself with his shield, he went to her that expected him at the door. He offered to strike her on the breast with a point, which the Salamader fearing, shrunk her body back, omitting the use of her tail. So the Greek Mars stepped forward with his hindmost leg, letting his sword fly at her head. He thought it would not less than cleave her, yet found he such resistance, that glancing down it wounded her a little on the neck, which she strait curing with her tongue, it nothing hurt her at all.  
This madded the son of Trebatio, especially to see how little it availed him to wound her: so unresolved what to do, he concluded to receive a blow, and then follow her, to execute an other at his pleasure on her head, hoping her cure would not be so certain there. Thus determined once again, he went to the door, where she carefully awaighting him, and seeing him so near, ere he could strike her, she cast her claws upon him, and griping him hard with them, she not only frustrated his blow, but plucked him so strongly, that the good Emperor could not so soon get from her, whereby of force, he was constrained to enter in, where scarce she had him, but she grappled him about the middle with her steeled talents, that had he not then had on the best Armour in the Universe, without doubt he had there perished. But though he had escaped her sharp claws, yet he could not avoid the cruel burning heat of the enchanted fire that then encompassed him on all sides, chief that which issued from the Sallamanders' mouth.  
It exceedingly tormented the Greek, seeing himself so burn without remedy, and his Armour to glow like a bright coal of fire. And so with that fury, (having his death before his eyes) nimbler then a cat, leaping out of a fire, he took hold of the Sallamanders' body, and straining his strength beyond his power, feeling his flesh broil, he overturned her to the ground, and still maintaining his fierceness, he brought her to the door, and although she there strived most to withstand him, yet he hurled her out of the burning lodging, where on the sudden she died, even as the fish wanting the water that nourisheth it.  
With his dagger he went to wound her, but seeing she stirred not, he went and found her dead, wherefore he gave his Creator due thanks for so great a victory: and without more stay, he disarmed himself, for all his Armour was of a very fire. Having done, he felt himself so weary and tired, as ever before at any time he had been: and sitting down upon the Salamader, he tarried the cooling of his arms.  
While this cruel combat lasted, the haughty Pagan, both Lover and subject of the gallant Floraliza, had not been idle, who abashed at his long staying in winning the passage of the second Castle, went along through the hall, where he did find the Fantasmo, whose end brought him into a fair green plot, in midst whereof there was a Tower, circled about with a high stéepie wall, which had no gate nor sign of entrance.  
Amazed at this sight, the stout Schythian looked to the top of the Tower, where he saw a well accomplished Knight, clad all in rich Armour, who with an angry voice said. What thinkest thou knight? it is in vain to seek an entrance hither, for there is none: unless thou wilt creep up the wall, which is impossible, and were it to be done, seest thou not I am here to forbid it? but were it not so dangerous, it is granted to none, nor none shall ascend hither. In terms of answer would not the untaymed youth procrastinate the time, but rather with greatest haste disarmed himself, keeping only his Helm on his head, and his shield the which he cast at his back, and his sword hanging by his side, he drew forth his dagger (and being desirous to make his valour known unto the Knight) he struck it into the wall, and with both his hands plucking out some stones, he clamored up, and as he ascended, so he stuck his dagger, for thereon sometimes he set his feet, whilst he made his hands sure to mount.  
Amazed was the knight, to see with what nimbleness and dexterity he did it, but fearing to be assaulted on high, he fling down a great stone from the top. It fell upon bravorant's Helm, which with a sore fall, half senseless it tumbled him to the earth. Nevertheless, within a while he recovered himself, being fiercer than any Lion, an reviling himself and his Gods, which others adored, he returned to prosecute his way: but with great care and watch to escape from an other fall, if the Knight played as he did before. Who much delighted to see with what courage Campeons Nephew climbed up.  
He so occupied himself in gazing on him, that Brauorant had leave to ascend so high, that when he would have hurled an other, he had no time to do it, for while he fetched it, which was some two yards from that place, the Pagan had got to the top, which being loath to lose, he bravely leapt in. His stern presence somewhat feared the knight, but seeing him disarmed, he recovered strength: yet it availeth him little: for Brauorant so charged him with a blow, that it cut his shield clean in two, and descending on his Helm, made him set his knees to the ground.  
It angered the Knight to be so used, who stepping in with one foot, did let fly at him a strong point. By wresting aside his body, Mars his Competitor did shun it, and so suddenly closed with him, that standing but on one leg, he field him on his back, even when the knight drew forth his dagger, the which the Pagan being unable to prevent, was enforced to let him go, who got up, and more ireful than a basilisk, going nearer, gave him such a blow on the helm, yet not able to penetrate, there it glanced down, wounding him a little on the shoulder.  
Now was the furious Pagan mad to see his adversaries blade reek with his lukewarm blood: whereat detracting no more time, escaping an other thrust, again he closed with him, and presently taking him by the middle hoisting him aloft, he instantly tumbled him headlong down the Tower: where on the ground, with the extreme weight of his Armour, he was broken in many pieces, and at the instant, the Tower vanished away with such a noise, as if the earth were overwhelmed: so that Brauorant found himself beneath where his Armour lay, and the dead Knight near unto him. There he armed himself, getting through a Gate he had espied.  
No less victorious remained archysilora's Lover of the adventure of the last porch. For having slain the infernal beasts in the Vault, he went in at the opened wall he had descried, and crossing thorough a fair Orchard, he came at last unto a big strong Castle, shut with brazen gates, whereon were made certain Letters of Emeralds: the which he thus read.  What knight so ever would end the adventure, let him wind his horn, and the gates shall be opened. 
He ended, making all the field resound with the echo of the Horns shrill sound: whereat the gates flying open, there issued a mighty ugly Dragon, shaped almost like the Salamader.  
Doubtless any other save Claridiano would have feared his aspect: but he that was borne to fight, as if he were a weak knight, taking his shield about his arm, went towards him with his sword drawn.  
He warded a huge stroke with his scaly Tail: it struck his shield from his arm, and had almost field him. It enraged Claridiano who stiffly settling himself on his feet, thrust a point at the hellish beast, it had like to have cost him his life, for the Dragon escaping it, as he passed, did strike him so terrible a stroke, backwards upon his gorget, that he was field on his face.  
Then would the fierce Dragon have closed with him, but he found Claridiano nothing remiss, who raging mad, with a quick leap atoside, avoided his fury, and turning upon him, with his good sword he cut away his legs by the knees. With dreadful crying shrieks, the wounds beast draling his body on the ground, would have taken the Prince between his paws, but being wrathful, and this his last battle, with a downright blow he cloven a piece of his head, and with a fierce thrust, cut his heart clean in two, felling him dead at his feet, and so passed on, desirous to end the adventure.  
At one instant finished Claridiano and Claramant their Battles, although trebatio's sons was somewhat longer, because it was more troublesome. For having slain the savage & the Centaurs, he paced that way they came, till he issued into a delightful Plain, where he was encountered by a gallant knight in hose and doublet, who said. So feared are Theseus' Arms (Sir knight) in this habitation, that dreading the loss of the Castle, I am enjoined the Combat in this manner, and if you intent to pass on, you must do the like: and therefore presently unarm you.  
The Greek not refusing it, did strait put off his Armour: to whom the knight delivered a Rapier and Dagger, with these words. (With these weapons must you defend yourself, valiant knight). I am content, replied Claramant, and taking them, prepared for the fight.  
The Greek first settling himself, did with his Dagger strike away his adversaries point, and with his Rapier wounded him with a thrust on the breast, and drawing back his leg, controwled the others Rapier, that came directly to his head. The wound much grieving the knight, made him respect no tricks of Art, but ran against the prince, who fearing his unadvised desperate coming, crossed his rapier against the other, and so stayed his fury.  
but he burning with ire to be so prevented, thought to have slain him with his Dagger, imagining Claramants care was only in the prevention of the rapier, but it was not so: for he stretching out his arm further, did first stab his dagger into the knight's shoulder, which made him forego his purpose: whereupon the Prince having opportunity to draw back his sword, did it, and suddenly with a strong point wounded the knight mortally in the flank, which altogether made him faint.  
The wounded knight seeing his date of life expired, despairing of remedy, he hurled his dagger at him, with the utmost of his strength, that he miraculously scaped an untimely death: for Claramant chancing to take it on his hilts, the point thereof was stayed at the Pommel, and had it not there found that resistance, it could not but have run it up to the hills into his body.  
Amazed was the Greek Prince, judging that, the moment of his birth, but going to take his revenge of the knight, he saw him split on his own rapier: for seeing himself deadly wounded, and that he could not escape with life, chose rather to be his own executioner, than the Prince should triumph over his death at his hands. joying at the victory of so dangerous a Combat, he prosecuted his way.  
No advantage had Claramant over Don Celindo, who ended his fight as soon as he: for having slain the swains, and passed the Garden, he came unto a green Mead, where a knight gallantly mounted, expected the battle: not far from him there stood a Pillar, whereto a luftie courser was tied, the which alicandro's Nephew imagining to be for him, he did quickly back, and taking a strong knotty Lance that he also there found, either parted from the other, to take his carreire, and valiantly made their strong encounters.  
In midst of the shield did Don Celindo hit the Knight, and clearly piercing it, thrust him so strongly, that breaking his saddle gyrtes, he tumbled him from his horse. The knight struck Don Celindo on his Beaver, which so astonished him, that he let go his horse bridle, who feeling his head at liberty, elevated himself so high, that both fell down, yet Don Celindo perceiving it, before the fall, did quickly leap from his back.  
With shields about their arms and swords on high, the two brave warriors met. With a furious thrust did Don Celindo first wound his adversary, which made him give back three steps. But he presently returned, and gave him such a blow on the helm, that he thought himself in heaven, so many stars he saw about his head, and with a counterbuff on the shoulder, he had almost field him. Like a ravening Lion became floralinda's son, and offering to strike him on the head, the knight repaired thither with his shield. It was the cause of his overthrow: for Don Celindo not minding it, with a point wounded him mortally on the breast, piercing all his Armour, and then with mighty strength turning his sword to the others head, he cut away half his helm, with a piece of his skull. Howling and shrieking with the wound, the knight turned his back, and fled through a fair Gallery.  
After him went Don Celindo, overtaking him in a great plain, where he saw four great Arches inchaste with precious stones, held up with eight mighty Crystal Pillars. There did Don Celindo assail the knight, even when a beauteous Lady most richly attired confronted him. He was astonished at her sight, thinking he saw his dear Rosiluera.  
Stay your hand brave knight (said the Lady) and do not execute your wrath on him that yields you the victory. I cannot (most sovereign Princess replied he, amazed to see her there) but satisfy your content, obeying what ere you shall impose on me: as he only borne to do your service: yet is my poor soul tormented with grief, that this command is no greater. It is too much (answered she) for her that hath shown you no kindness: and so the crafty Damsel taking him by the hand, placed him under the last Arch, leaving him there enchanted, without judgement or understanding, saving how to accomplish her will, who leaving him there said. Here must you remain Sir knight, and defend the entrance 'gainst all the world, if all the world shall come. Be assured (Lady) I will (replied the enchanted youth) and first I'll leave to breath, then desist from defending the Arch. Away went the Lady along the Arches, when the furious Brauorant came thitherward, having put on his Armour. He stepped back as one in a trance, imagining he beheld his Floraliza, into that shape she had transmuted herself.  
The Pagan so admired her sight, as he was struck dumb, but she revived him thus. Come with me brave knight, for we greatly need your strength. He did not refuse it, saying. Lead the way (divine Lady, replied he) for it is my felicity to lose my life for your beauty. Leading him by the hand, the deceitful Lady left him enchanted under the third Arch, saying.  
Courteous Knight, this Arch must you defend, with the utmost of your valour. He made answer. Leave that care to me, for will at least shall not want, if strength forsakes me not. At another Gate by this, appeared archysilora's Lover, to him she went, representing the Queen of Lyra. Whom (to be short) she also enchanted in the second, and in the first did the like by Claramant, having on the presence, and countenance of the famous Lyndabrides, whom he by report already began to fancy. Then like the wind she vanished away, yet ere she went, she commuunded them on their lives, they should not go out of the Arches, unless they would embrace their deaths. And so leaving a scroll upon a Pillar, she left them.   

CHAP. XXVI. How the Emperor Alphebo ended the famous Enchantment of Roselia, and what else happened.  
SO great was the care that those wise men, Lyrgandeo, Artemidoro and Nabato had over the Greeks and their Empire, that by their Art had reached to the knowledge, how that memorable Monarchy would be brought to the point of an utter overthrow, and perpetual desolation: wherefore so entirely affecting her Princes, (as this great History hath amply mentioned) for their Loves, they revolved their books, to know the cause, and causer of such bloody wars: which they found to be the two Princesses, Lyriana of Nyquea, and Roselia of Rome: whereupon they resolved to Enchant them, beginning first with Lyriana, within the sea Tower, as hath been related.  
And seeing that the Roman Princess was left, they joined themselves together, in the making of this Enchantment the strongest ever seen, for while she was so kept, her Father should not know what had happened between her and Don Eleno of Dacia, nor should she at his hands require revenge against him. As they did determine it, so did the wise Magicians perform it, making it far stronger than Lyriana's, for they intended to keep her long time there, until some good order were taken about the Greeks affairs.  
Again, they resolved to have Lyriana disinchaunted, and her Nuptials with the Britain Prince solemnized, hoping it would be a means to reconcile the soldan of Nyquea, giving him so great a Prince as Rosabel to be his son in law. They would not do so by Roselia, because she could not be wedded with whom she had imprinted in her heart. But the perverse Selagio (by means of Lupercio) hunting after revenge for the death of Fangomadon (whom Rosicler flew, as in the first Chapter of the first book of this third part is expressed) would needs procure the liberty of this Lady, with Arbolinda of Scotland, that accompanied her: for which purpose, in a Bark he drew Brauorant and Don Celindo, from the Fleet: doing the like by Alphebo, directing also Claridiano and Claramant thither: where all of them performed such deeds in arms as is specified, and worthy of such great Princes, slaying all the keepers of the Castles.  
But the wise men fearing the two Lady's liberty, as the last refuge of their hopes, erected these four Arches, there to Enchant those mighty Warriors, that none might end the adventure, they being the sole Pillars of human strength. Twenty years they purposed the Inthauntment should stand, finding by their Art, that after that time Greece would flourish with most happiness, by a contracted League, with the greatest Potentates of the world. But the supreme King of Kings, having otherwise disposed of those affairs, frustrated (as you shall see) their toils, bringing thither at that time Alphebo, sole Phoenix in arms, valour, and all bounty.  
So much the longer he stayed, until his armour was cool, and then buckling it on, past the last portal, coming to the Arches, at the very instant the Lady had done enchanting the knights, and lighting on the Pillar, he thus read the inscription.  Let none though he be Mars in Arms, pretend to pass forward, for what is done, is nothing comparable to what is to do, seeing he must Combat with the mirrors of Chivalry, Claramant, Claridiano, Brauorant, and Don Celindo. 
The Trebezonian Lord did feel his blood freeze in his body, hearing his strong Companions were there enchanted, and among them his son, for whose sake he greatly dreaded the fight, fearing some ill mischance either to him or his son: for he deemed none equalled Claridiano. Oh, claridiana's Lord wished his son thence, and in his place the whole world: for that power united, he not so much did doubt. As he was thus considering with himself, he heard a voice (that by Selagios procurement said) What doubts thou Illustrious Emperor? Consider it is not worthy thy great valour to refuse these Combats, for their ends shall conclude the famousest deeds in arms that was ever heard of.  
Altogether did these words put him from his pensiveness, judging his delay to proceed from base cowardice: wherefore as swift as a Roe, he went towards the first Arch, when he heard the noise of certain voices, that said. Leave, leave, this accursed enterprise, thou mighty Alphebo, for with the blows thou givest to one knight, thou woundest bryana's soul, and with those thou dischargest on the other, thou dost split her heart, to whom thou owest all content: thy dear Clatidiana we mean.  
Back stepped the Emperor, not in fear of the Battles, for his heroic mind was not used to it, but to have understood those words, yet supposing they were uttered only to threaten him, rather desiring to die (oh admirable courage) then to be tainted with cowardice, recommending himself to his true God, he began to march towards the first arch, being nothing hurt by the Enchantment, for the virtue of his King defended it, the which he always wore, wherewith he freed his Father from Lyndarazas imprisonment, where he achieved immortal fame. He had no sooner entered it, but like a blazing Comet, Claramant issued to entertain him, (unknown to his brother) by reason of the enchantment. At that time a gallant window opened, where appeared two ladies, whose beauties stained Venus in her pride, there come to behold the battles. At length together met the two haughty combatants, either receiving the other, with the puissance of their strong terrible blows. They discharged them on the top of their heads so rigorously, that squadrons of sparkles flew from their helms. Either did set one knee on the ground, bowing their heads with such low congees, as if they had known themselves to be brothers. Both remained angry and fearful of the others strength: so rising, they gave beginning to the hammering of their bodies, as if it were a battle of twenty knights.  
The Emperors new won armour, did well defend his flesh from the cutting of Theseus' axe. Nevertheless, within an hour of their fight, he felt his body sorely bruised, yet he comforted himself, seeing his adversary besmeared with his own blood, having his armour rend and torn in many places, but yet as lusty as when he began, and raising his axe, he laid on the others shoulder. The inpenetrable arms he may thank for his life, the which they saved, though not him from touching the earth with his hands. And so the valiant Prince seeing this good occasion, closed with him, that either cast his strong arms about the other, to procure either's advantage. Soon got Claramant over the Emperor, because he assaulted him with a sudden advised charge.  
But claridiano's Lover having recovered his foil, made him lose his ground, and so overturned him of one side, that crossing his leg with his, he tripped his brother, who fell under him: yet as swift as an Eagle he got up, and grappling together, they tumbled up and down the paved earth.  
Where seeing they could not so vanquish one another, let go, repairing to their weapons, with such mightiness & heavy blows wounding their bodies, that none save they in all the world, could suffer them: yet did not they faint, nor lose no whit of their fierce courage, whose fury being thoroughly heated, seemed to increase their strength and ardinent, becoming so nimble and quick in assaulting and retiring, offending, and defending, that their feet seemed to be winged. Greatly did Alphebo wonder at his adversaries fierceness, judging him one of the best in the universe, calling to remembrance the battle he had in Constantinople with his brother Rosicler, about the Princess Lyndabrides.  
He could not devise how to get from him that arch, supposing his victory consisted thereon. Committing himself to God, and trusting to his forces, avoiding a thrust, he closed with Claramant, and before he could prevent it, he hoist him from the ground, who unable to forbid it, he carried out of the arch, but with exceeding labour, for Claramant with the utmost of his power strived to let it. He was no sooner thence, when as one dead he remained in the Emperor's arms, who laying him down, imagining he would revive with the end of the adventure, he passed that, till he entered the second arch, where against him, came the Mirror of courtesy & fortitude, the magnanimous Claridiano. Almost did his father know him, by the majestic gate & comeliness wherewith he made against him, giving him so sudden a blow, that ere he repaired to the defence, he seconded two thrusts, which sorely vexed trebatio's son, making him stagger three steps back, and before he recovered himself, he gave him a down right blow on the helm, which made him see many millions of fiery sparks. It greatly enraged the peerless Alphebo, who seeing himself so handled, forgetting that he was his father, and he his son, did most terribly discharge his rich blade upon his shield.  
It yields no defence against the best arm in the world, for in two pieces it was thrown to the ground, and descending to the helm, finding there more resistance, it made his head bend with an awful congee due to his authority, and kiss the earth with his hands, and as he rose, with a strong point he was overturned to the ground. Long was he not so, but rising like the wind, blind with rage, he took his sword in both hands, discharging it on his father's shield, the which resisted the edge, was struck with such might against his helm, that he thought the firmament was within. With his knees on the ground he so remained astonished, till the sound of another blow upon his shoulder awakened him, to stay himself with his hands from falling.  
Never did Alphebo feel himself more choleric, nor furious, nor never by one battle so endangered: but fearing to be overcome, with madding rage he went against him he tendered as his soul, and on his waste gave him a most mighty blow.  
It made him incline his body that way, for cutting his armour, it wounded him a little, sprinkling the ground with his crimson blood. With a counterbuff the Emperor returned, hitting him on his Gorget: upwards bounded the sword, & falling on the buckles of his helm, it cut them all, making it fly from his head. With admiration did the Trebizonian Lord gaze on his picture, in such careless manner, that Claridiano had time to strike him at his pleasure on the midst of his precious helm, and straining the utmost of his strength, he felled him down, making the blood gush from the closings of his helm. With more eagerness doth not the soaring hawk seizeon his prey, than Claridiano closed with his father, and casting his arms about him, thought to choke him between them, at such time as the fierce Emperor returned to himself.  
Oh, then did he wish to have any other then Claridiano between his arms, (I, though it were the God of battles himself) to inflict on him the deserved punishment for such usance, the which he could not now do, unless he should power vengeance on himself. But having good hold on him, with some trouble at length he lifted him from the ground, and with violent striving, opposing his greatest forces against his sons resistance, with blood gushing from his face, he carried him out of the arch: and leaving him even like Claramant, he felt his body never wearier in all his life.  
A while he sat him down at the foot of the same arch, to rest himself, and putting off his helm, he wiped his bloody face: but with the sight of the two Ladies in the window, whom he judged to be Roselia and Arbolinda, remembering their freedom, he rebuckled on his helm, and marched to the third arch, where Brauorant, the flower of Pagan's strength, encountered him with a strong point.  
On his shield did the Emperor receive it, against which the sword bending, forced him two steps back. Another seconded the Pagan on his breast, making him bend his body backwards.  
And coming upon him with the third, trebatio's son gave way unto the furious point, which finding no stay, it drew the hardy Scythian after it. Whom Alphebo following, struck him on the flank, and unable to cut his armour, he bruised his flesh within. This blow chafed the fierce Pagan, who like a Basseliske, with Mars his strength, did let fly at him a mighty blow.  
On his shield did the Emperor take it, the which was struck so against his helm, making it thunder like the stormy heavens. And then he gave him a cruel thrust, that had not his armour been the best in the world, he could not but have incurred mortal peril. The Greeks respected no tricks of defence being so handled: wherefore like winter's hail, he charged the Pagan with his blows in such sort, that he rested amazed at the Emperor's fierceness, yet fainted not his shown valour in the beginning, though his own blood had besmeared his armour, whose enchantment was not of force against the cutting of Alphebos sword.  
About this time, the Greek with all his puissance, gave him a blow on his helm, whose force greatly enforced him back, which occasioned the Emperor to execute his intent, for noting with what blind eager fury the Scythian came against him, the politic Lord returned back by little and little, even to the first Arch. So Brauorant thinking he did it for fear, hastily followed him, and being almost out of the Arches, he heard a voice that said: Return, return, renowned Brauorant, and remember floraliza's command: go not out of the first arch, for if thou dost, thou art but dead. Great was his affection towards that Lady, hearing himself called by her own name, amazedly turned his head, supposing she was there. Which happy occasion bryana's son would not lose, for watching such opportunity, with one stride he joined with him, hoisting his body in the air, and being near out of it, maugre the Pagans strength, he threw him forth, leaving him as one dead.  
Infinite thanks did the Greek render unto God for this victory, and without longer stay, he paced to the last arch, kept by alicandro's Nephew, with whom he had one of the bravest battles in the world: for the advantage the Emperor had over him in strength, the other supplied by being fresh, and he weary and tired. It so pleased the beauteous Roselia (being one of those that looked on them) to see with what dexterity and valour Don Celindo prosecuted his fight, that she purposed (though she was enchanted) to make none Patron of her heart but him, if she wedded not Don Eleno. Here doth not Lyrgandeo particularise this combat, because he would not be tedious, only he affirmeth it was one of the famousest that ever was: and how in the and he was as his companions carried out of the arches, but with a new wound, for while he made his battle, he chanced to behold Roselia, whom he so well liked, that he almost forgot the fair Rosiluera exceeding great joy conceived the Greek Mars, to have won the Arches, and as he returned through them, a Lady encountered him with these words.  
Know, illustrious Emperor, mirror of the world's chivalry, that the end of this adventure consists in giving me that ring on your finger, to put it on your wife Claridianas that yonder lieth, and it behooves you to do it with speed, for else her life is short, and ready to expire her canceled date, by the hands of that knight which stands over her. Towards the place whence the Damsel came, he turned his head, where he thought he saw his Claridiana lying on the ground, and over her a knight with a dagger in his hand, wherewith he offered to stab her. No longer stayed the haughty Greek, but like a furious Lion, leaving the Lady he ran to the knight, who fearing to be slain, (being Nabato so disguised) together with the damsel vanished away: whereat the Emperor wondered, as also of the strange adventure of the Castle.  
In the end of the arches, he found a large wide pair of stairs, made all of precious stones, he ascended them quicker than a hurried bullet from a cannon's mouth, and being at the top, he saw a fair rich Gallery, from whence the Ladies viewed the battles. At the end thereof, he passed a gorgeous portal, that opened into a great Hall of admired riches: and as he would enter into it, two Ladies saluted him, whom he thought to be those before mentioned, being indeed the Princess Roselia, and Arbolinda. With much courtesy the Emperor returned their salutations, and to be assured if they were whom the Tables mentioned, he demanded of them thus. Let me entreat you fair Ladies, to tell me where within this dwelling I may find the Princess Roselia of Rome, and Arbolinda of Scotland, for I much desire to see them, to know whether it be true, what the world reporteth of their beauties? Then they said. With one condition (sir knight) we will lead you where they be, which if you deny, it will be impossible to see them. Demand what you will (replied the kind warrior) for I will perform what ever it be.  
We hoped no less from your valour (said Arbolinda) and therefore we pray you give us that ring on your finger, that we may carry it to Roselia, that greatly needs it. I am content (answered the wary (Greek) but first go we beyond yond first Arch, & there I protest by the faith of a knight, to perform my promise. That is to deny it (said Roselia) for we may not go any farther. Why then sovereign Ladies (replied Alphebo) I recall my promise, intended on this condition.  
If you be so resolved (said Arbolinda) farewell, for we must go unto the Princesses, unworthy of your discourtesy, that because you will not perform your promise, shall here remain enchanted, until the coming of some other more kinder knight, to pity them. I do so greatly desire to be absolved of my passed word (replied the Greek) especially (as you said) roselia's liberty depending thereon, that I intent perforce, (craving pardon for my boldness) to carry you where I may give you my ring, and be freed of my promise. Whereto Roselia said.  
You will not I hope, entreat us with such violence, for it is not the part of a good knight, to oppress distressed Ladies, enforcing them against their wills: which to prevent, we will leave you, returning to Roselia, that expects us. As the gallant Ladies were turning their backs, trebatio's son stepped to them, and took them in his arms, and in his going out of the Gallery, many hideous fearful shrieks were heard, and he charged with mighty invincible blows, enough to have dissolved Vulcan's work house: yet for all this, did not the flower of arms cease to go forward, sometimes setting his hands, and sometimes his knees to the ground, and then inclining his head below his breast.  
Many terrible illusions were opposed against him, sufficient to daunt Mars himself. But they nothing feared him, for the magnanimous Alphebo, by this had descended the stairs, and although tormented with oppressive ulowes, confronted with horrid apparisians, and his hearing made deaf wfth miserable howl, yet he got out of all the arches, at what instant there sounded the loudest and most shrillest noise, with the mightiest thunderclap that ever was heard in the world. Ten miles from Rome it was heard, making that famous City shake as with an earthquake, utterly dissolving the best enchantment that ever mortals heard of.  
In midst of an odoriferous plain, did Alphebo find himself, clad in his rich won armour, with his son Claridiano, that equalled him in all things: with them the mighty Claramant, in all respects comparable, to brother and Cousin.  
There also was that furious Brauorant, Paragon of the Gyantean regions, accompanied with the new Lover Don Celindo: and with them, the beauteous Princesses, Roselia and Arbolinda. Well remembered Bravotant what had him befallen, and thinking he had by him been vanquished, would have challenged the Emperor of Trebizound about it, but that he descried a great company coming through the Forest: and supposing it to be the Emperor of Rome, he took his leave of the Princes and Ladies, who were not able to stay him. And coming to the sea side, he shipped himself in his Bark, which in short time brought him to the soldan of Nyqueas Fleet. Claridiano and Claramant would also needs departed, imagining they were not known, shaping their course towards Grecia, because they heard the world prepared against her.  
Alphebo would not hinder their voyage, seeing it pleased them to conceal their names, and so he took his leave of them. By this arrived the Emperor of Rome, whom the noise of their battles, and the beasts howl had brought thither: and alighting from his Alfana, he embraced his daughter Roselia, and Arbolinda, with such joy as may be thought. In the end (to be short) Don Celindo recounted what had befallen, which made them all wonder, admiring Alphebos valours: who also unwilling to be longer detained, took his leave and departed. So shipping himself, arrived in Constantinople, where he at large discoursed the whole process of the adventure. Don Celindo remained mith Roselia, whose disenchantment was solemnized with many triumphs. Thus leaving them all, we return to the valiant Princes, Claramant, and Claridiano, navigating by sea in their enchanted Bark.   

CHAP. XXVII. How the two Princes, Claridiano and Claramant, arrived at Grecia, and of the fair adventure that befell them with a knight.  
WIth more fury than the dreadful threatening Comet renteth his passage through the fiery element, did the enchanted bark wherein those two Princes navigated, furrow the raging billows of Neptune's inhospitable regions, directing their course towards the memorable Grecian Empire. So swiftly did it cut the foaming waves, that four days after, in sight of the Greeks Fleet, that anchored in the Haven of Hircambella, and not far from it they ran a shore. It not a little gladded them, knowing where they had arrived, for Claramant greatly desired to see that Court, so famoused through the world.  
Being on land, they mounted upon mighty horses, which Galtenor had provided them, with a shield for trebatio's son, and so took their journey toward Constantinople, hearing by the way of the proof of the disamorous Tower: the discourse whereof, Claridiano told his uncle, which was the greater motion to stir him to the trial. Whereto his Cousin said. And it comes well to pass, that the earth may know, how both by land and sea, you are Mars his favourite: but I would not for the world, be there known, for being banished by my sweet enemy from her dear presence, I should not well obey her command, so to disclose myself. Thus treating of this matter, and of Roselia's strange enchantment, judging it the haughtiest ever heard of, Claramant began in this manner. It would rejoice my very soul, to know that famous knight, called of the Sun, for as I suppose, we were all vanquished by him, and the glory of that great adventure solely attributed to him. Because I imagine you will be glad to know who he is, (replied Claridiano) know, it is the Emperor of Trebezound, whom the heavens decreed to be my father. I am exceeding glad thereof, (said Claramant) and sure I was, so valiant a son could not but proceed from so glorious a father. But I also desire to know who those three knights were, that kept the arches of the Tower in the sea: for believe me, they are the flower of Arms. Two of them (replied the Prince) I can tell you of, the one Bembo by name, King of Achaya, and Lord General of the soldan's Fleet: the other is a most strong Pagan, King of Mauritania, and mortal enemy to the Greeks. The last, yet seeming of a bigger constitution of composed members, I know not, saving that it was he which in our company proved Rosilias' enchantment, being he we met in the Forest, in battle against the Emperor my father: But the time is long, and we may end any particular combat, for I no less desire it then you, since I crossed him on the seas, when I defended your ladder. In this conversation they came unto a clear river of fresh bubbling water, which invited them to find out his spring, to pass away the heat of the afternoon, for the Sun having progressed half his course, had already dried the moisture of the earth. Within a while they found a fair Fountain, where they alighted, both to wash their faces, and take such repast as Pollisandros' provision afforded. Thus they drove away the time with some content, for Claridiano for his uncles sake controwled his griefs, when his Lady's remembrance troubled him. So being desirous to take a nap, they parted a little one from the other to sleep. Short it was, for the Music of a sweet voice awaked them at once. Whereupon Claridiano said. Have you ever heard (brave Knight) more sweet harmony? Believe me, we have met with some good entertainment, for he that sings, in my opinion, should live by being in love. We may not leave the enjoying of so sweet a note. So they rose together, and putting on their helms, took their shields and followed the sound they heard, and then ceased. They came unto a little grove beset with lofty Pines, there saw they a shepherd, of the fairest disposition in the world: and so beautiful, that his sight would have made him envious that kept Admetus' flocks. He seemed to be very young, holding a Recorder in his hand, to whose sound tuning his voice, he sung his soul's grief unto those senseless trees.  
Credit me, Prince of Grecia, (said Claramant) that some chance in Love hath made him so disguise himself: for although there be gallant shepherds about these and other fields, yet this his tender behaviours shows, he hath not been brought up to tend sheep.  
Let us attend him (replied Claridiano) for he himself will resolve this our doubt. They needed not much persuasion to make them listen, for the sweetness wherewith he sounded his Instrument, was sufficient to move, as did the Thracian Poet his melody, which when he ended, he warbled forth this Elegy.  
Great must needs be the grief, extreme must needs be the torments  
Which I do feel while I want (fair Polinarda) thy sight:  
Esteeming thy sweet presence my sole happiness in life,  
How may thy long absence but be a death to my heart?  
On this stay yet I live, in thy disgrace that I live not,  
For then in endless plagues damned I were to perish:  
Rather as one whose sincere Love was kindly regarded,  
On the highest heau'ns-spheare placed I was by thy hand:  
Golden days were those. But now despoiled of all bliss  
Like sad Bellerophon, joyless I wander alone.  
In darkness I do stray, missing thy Sun to direct me,  
My day to night turned is, my delight into laments.  
Vexed thus though I am: Complain on thee yet I cannot,  
Of thee (Lady divine) for love I had love again.  
Spiteful Fortune it is, that of all joys hath me bereaved,  
And with deadly malice crossed me with heavy mishaps.  
Distressed by Fortune, yet never will I be daunted,  
Maugre her, and her force, will I love, and be beloved:  
Envious ill Fortune cannot compel me to despair,  
When she hath her worst done, then can I be but a wretch.  
Then when I most am a wretch, most constant shallbe my hope then,  
Which without her compass firmly by faith I do keep:  
Her force will not I fear, nor seek for her help that I loved be  
Oh fairest of fairs, on thee alone I depend:  
In presence was I loved, and shallbe I doubt not in absence  
(Lady, in whom virtue like to thy beauty shineth,  
Constant as comely). burr alas, that I must like a Pilgrim  
Wander a whole age thus through regions so remote,  
Kingdoms far distant, where I wish in vain to behold thee,  
Where new sprung dangers hourly delay my return  
From thy sight banished, whose silver rays be so splendent  
That therewith dazzled, Cynthia hideth her head!  
Expect yet do I still and that day daily do look for,  
In thy sweet presence once yet again to rejoice:  
Converting sadness to gladness, sorrow to singing:  
rapt in bliss, than I shall perpetually triumph.  
In mean time resting on this so sacred a comfort,  
This thy want perforce with patience I do bear,  
Till the raging tempest of Fortune's fury be ore-blow'n,  
And I of all turmoils shall have a happy release.  
No more could the two valiant Greeks understand, for the vehement groans that burst from his soul, together with hart-breaking sighs, drowned the very sound of his words. Now that he had thus given a little passage to his griefs, by publishing them unto those lofty pines, that by bowing their spreading branches, seemed to pity his distress, with a breathless (Ay me) he began his laments in this manner. Oh Love! how extremely hast thou executed the power of thy rigour on me? Oh my tender years, eclipsed in the budding of your spring, with the nipping winter of sour grief: Injustly hast thou made me an example of the happiest Lover that ever was, never having against thy sovereignty so much as in thought offended, nor yet in any thing gainsaid or contradicted thy awful power. Oh I acknowledge it, and do confess what happiness is obtained, submitting true duty to thy command, as to the sole deity able to give life, or sweetest death: and yet for all thou art long since assured with what submissive humbleness I have obeyed thy behests, and with patience endured thy crosses, so dearly bought, at the highest rate and price of my content, it pleaseth thee, when the sovereign Goddess of my soul, would most favour me, to exile me her presence by such cruel means. On me, and my poor heart, that never did offend thee, havest thou tyrannised with all inhumanity, winking and pardoning the Conspirators against thy rule.  
What hast thou got by absenting me from her stamped in my living soul? wherein wert thou offended, when I beheld her presence? were it not I fear to be accounted Traitor unto thy Crown and principality, I would call, and proclaim thee (over and beside that thou art cruel) to be envious: and if not so, that jealousy (plague of mortals, and immortals) to see me love and live thereby, and in recompense of so firm a faith, to hope for the glory of being again beloved, hath forced thee to make me in exile wander thus from that her happy presence.  
I never have seen tokens of a perfecter Lover in my life (said Claridiano) and as I am a Knight, if it lie in me to help him, I will do it to the danger of my life. Of this and more is the Lover worthy of (answered his uncle): but I would not have had you bound yourself unto so much, whereby you should omit your journey to Constantinople, the which would grieve my very soul, especially losing your company. To do so would increase my sorrow in the highest degree (said the Prince) because our love binds us to grieve at others absence: yet will not I remit to procure his content, that know how to love so entirely: and it may be, I shall this way find some measure for my torments: knowing that her sight (Commandress of my soul) will but augment my pains, by being in disgrace: and what great glory it were to be embraced in her grace.  
But go we to him that learned to love, and not fear the plague of absence, for never yet did any feel it, but judged it worse than death. Let us go (replied the free youth) for it is charity to help him in all things. Whereupon they made a little noise, that the careless shepherd might hear their going. With some alteration he did rise, supposing some other matter. But when (by Moonshine) he saw those two knight, the riches of their armour, and so gallant disposition, he went to meet them (being no less courteous than any) and said. What is it you this way seek (brave knights?) for although Fortune hath brought me to the last point, to make me despair of myself, so I may in any thing work your contents, believe me, I will be glad she should, for that time lengthen my despised life, than which I could not be more plagued.  
Whereto Claridiano made answer. We come this knight and myself, to offer our persons to procure your content (courteous sheppheard) if your necessities requires them, the which we shall hazard, with more will than you to employ them. There is no satisfaction, nor yet gratefulness, sufficient to balance your most kind offer (gallant Knights, replied the shepherd) but in doing it, you have made known the valour and magnanimity of your heroic minds, whereto by bounty you were bound.  
Oh, may Love recompense it (if it hath not been possible to deny his sovereignty) with more joys than I at his hands have received: but now any comfort whatsoever, will but augment my grief, the which hath so far extended itself, that no remedy nor salve can cure it. Then Claramant took occasion thus. But although physic doth not always whole cure the inveterated Malady, yet many oftentimes it prevents, and expelles many dangerous accidents, that would else exceedingly aggravate the infirmity, and so for all it may not now please you to communicate it to those that will feel your sorrow, it will be some consolation to see them pity it, were it but to be answered with (take comfort, for others have been used with like cruelty, and you are not alone despised in the world).  
It is even so, said the amorous shepherd: for amongst all the greatest consolations invented to mitigate the pains in love, to communicate them, is the chiefest: yet in me to discover them, it is an offence against the party I love. But to tell the torments I have endured, and what happiness they had obtained, and my extreme fall from that high felicity, were to wrong myself in the recital, for it will be but an argument of little sufferance in me, seeing that the least of my suffered pains was sufficient to withstand a thousand deaths: But now to consider they have let me survive, oh, there is no evil comparable to it, nor none can I devise worse. For had I then been deprived of my abhorred life, I should not have been so familiar with sour grief: yet to see that after the losing of that sovereign good, my life doth still persecute me with woes, that death fearing to come near them, flies from me when I most do call him: oh there is no patiented that can endure this, nor I have power to tolerate it, but with millions of continual tears, to bewail this loss and my misfortunes. Farther he could not proceed, for his tears interrupted him, which so moved the tender hearted Prince, that they entreated him to make them partakers of his griefs, that they might judge whether he have reason so to grief.  
Then the shepherd said. I am sure it is good to relate the tenor and process of my woes, unto such Knights: yet my distressed soul refuseth to refresh the memory with so many evils: but that you may know how small this my languishment is, sit you down, and you shall hear the greatest injustice that ever was used towards any: he being assured of my faith, that doth reward it not as it deserves, but according to his pleasure, as a Tyrant.  
They all sat them down under the covert of a spreading Oak, where the Greeks put off their Helms, whose beauties admired the shepherd, who with some sighs moving them to silence, he began. Since you be pleased (Sir knights) to have me recount the Pilgrimage of my oppressed life, and who I am: so that seeming to receive content thereby, I shall not need to entreat you to yield me that attention, my manifold sorrows do deserve.  
Know therefore (most Noble warriors) how that imperial power that doth command both Gods and men, pardoning none of no kind, I mean Love, sovereign of all sovereigns, hath enforced me into this disguised habit: And yet when I ponder how extremely the blind Goddess is bend against me, I find myself not secure therein: for I have ere this been honoured, and as a Prince acknowledged, until my star-crossed loves, exiled me through the world. This heart-infecting Deity (gallant Knights) when in greatest pomp and jollity I lived in Apulia, (whereof the heavens allotted me Prince) sent and conducted thither those, whose tongues were tuned with the dulced notes of the gallantness and beauty of the Princess of Lucania. With such deep root did her fair name insert itself within my free thoughts, that it is now impossible to leave to love her, in that both she and I have by a hidden grace, accorded in one thing. But I doubt it is the nature of our climate, or they that breath therein, by custom to be subject to like misfortunes.  
What shall I remember Hannibal, who had he not known Apulia, then had he not been ensnared in this passion, but been Lord of Rome, and not through love, overthrow his eternal honour, won with such loss of his own blood. Yet was not this example of any force to divert me from my new imaginations, but rather in greatest haste I prepared my journey towards Lucania, whither I went, only with a Page, my horse and Armour, solely to see Pollinarda, and if her perfections equalled the fame of her beauty. I arrived in time when it most flourished, because the Court was then full of knights that served her. And in faith believe me, that how far soever the report of her praises exceeded belief, so far and more did I find them to limp behind her excellencies I noted.  
In my opinion the heavens have not created a more absoluter beauty, because Envy itself hath found no means to seize thereon, and therefore is become the Herald of her worths. You may think (Noble Sir) these were new snares to entrap my captive soul. Asumptuous triumph was ordained in the City, which in ancient times was called Frossa, which in the Assyrian tongue, signifieth happy. It was so indeed, and even from the beginning, for she never had a Queen, but was also in beauty so.  
This occasion did Fortune offer me (oh she did further me to make my mishaps the greater) placing me near unto a brother of hers: by name Lysander, a knight both young and valiant, and in love too with the Infant of Campania, that in court accompanied the princess Pollinarda: high Solesia, no less beautiful than kind, who knowing how she was beloved, would not ill repay Lysander's faith, and so the gallant lived in some respects assured of his hopes. Oh, yet never had any full assurance, if he still will be amorous. On the adverse part, was Leader, the valiant Prince of Calabria, Agesilao by name, the happiest that I knew, in that without the pangs of passions, and souls afflictions, he obtained to be beloved of Pollinarda, and in such open manner, that the whole popularity did know it. It did not grieve my Lady's father, but rather it so pleased him, that in open show he expressed it, which more animated the Lady to grace him with new favours, which were sharp pointed daggers, stuck in the heart of woeful Florisiano, for so am I named. Oh it could not be less, beholding with my own eyes my own sorrow.  
At length the jousts began, wherein my stars vouchsafed a little to advance me, which did attract Lysander's affection, with such true zeal, that there cannot be firmer friendship then that he hath shown me: yea, although against his sister.  
The whole multitude turned their gazing eyes on my device, which was, blue arms, crossed with yellow bars. It accorded to the ill my jealous soul endured. On my shield was portrayed suspicion in her natural colour, as in ancient times she was painted, bearing a scroll, with this word.  
Wisely, who can her despise,  
That only doth employ her eyes  
To spy out loves subtleties.  
There was no Lady in the place, but noted my jealous colours, and so (as I after understood) some that were more pitiful, prayed for my victory: which maketh me think their orisons and good will abode me the honour of the jousts. So Lysander (that greatly affected me) and I, cleared the place, that none would more adventure: and having done, yet did I not disclose myself, neither to him nor any other, although the King himself was very importunate to know me: only this they got, that I was called the jealous Knight. Sure I am, that my Lady being so busied with Agesilao, she did not note my deeds, but rather (for it was told me) she was displeased, that I unknown, had unhorsed her Lover in the Lifts.  
Needs would the Prince Lysander have me to his own lodging, professing himself so entire a friend, that he hath won me to the death: the which I will gladly receive, to procure his content. In greater bonds did he tie me, altogether expressing his much nobleness, by discovering unto me, the sincerity of his love towards Solefia, Infant of Campania. I could not but highly esteem of the trust he reposed in me, being but a Knight, possessing nought but armour and horse. He entreated me to accompany him that night in a Mask, because the king his father in honour of the jousts, feasted all the Princes with shows and revel. It pleased me in my soul, in that I should behold her presence that governed my heart. In two long robes of cloth of gold we issued, masked: yet would not I go so unprovided, but that I had on a privy coat, which in my wandering days I used, bearing arms.  
In this manner we entered the Palace, when the revels began. Every Lady that had her gallant there, favoured him, to dance with him. Of these was my dear friend Lysander one, whose Mistress was attired in the same colour that we were. They danced with such grace, that Cupid himself could not but like it. Next to him, did Agesilao take Pollinarda Princess of beauty, by the hand. I cannot deny what the heavens had imparted them, for their grace and Majesty, admired all the Hall. Many excellent changes and tricks they used, yet the jealous passion of my grieved soul stirred up more in my face, by coming and going of my running colour. Had not my friend been there, rather than I would have suffered it, my heart upon a two edged sword should have been split, or I revenged. The beloved youth was famoused to be an excellent physician, as indeed he was. So his Lady (or rather espouse, for her father had agreed thereto) gave him a Lute to play thereon. He accepted it, (for he was fully bend to perform her will) and began to touch it with more sweeter music than he that descended to the infernal Vaults to fetch his wife. Then with a clear voice he warbled forth this Ditty, the which my memory carried away, the more to increase my pain.  

That brow, which doth with fair all fairs excel,  
Those eyes that shining lends the world his light,  
That gracious mouth where all the Graces dwell,  
That dimpled chin, the whetstone of delight,  
Those two rare Mounts, of Lilies and of Roses,  
That in their swelling, all content encloses.   

That brow, eye, mouth, chin, and most dainty cheek,  
Doth call, keep, hold, bind, and in gives restrain  
My heart, eye, ear, my thought, and judgement, eke,  
That no wise force, can free me thence again.  
Yet do I love my pleasing pain so well,  
That 'bove all joys, I prise my heavenly hell.   

Let dunghill baseness and the earthy mind,  
His summum bonum place in what he list:  
My soul (which strange divinity doth find)  
Within thy faces centure to consist:  
Will not consent that any other be  
My only good, but only, only thee.   

Thy brow, shall be the dreadful snowy Bar,  
Where I will daily for thy mercy plead:  
Thy shining eye, my path-directing star,  
Thy mouth, the Laws, which I must keep, shall read.  
Thy chin and cheek, shall equal power bear:  
The first to cheer, the last to keep in fear.   

And thou thyself, (Goddess of my desire)  
In my Heart's temple, daily I'll adore,  
No other Deity will I admire,  
No other power divine, will I implore:  
Great Goddess keep me, in thy favour shine,  
My heart, eye, ear, my thought and judgements thine.   
Thus did he run upon the triple with such heavenly melody, that had he not been Agesilao that sung, believe me brave knight, I would have liked it: but being done by the enemy to my rest, it was worse than hell unto mine eyes, that saw it. And in faith, his song was but the mere truth, although she was too cruel towards him, yet was I the cause, as I shall tell you. No imperfection was noted in the continuance of his Harmony: So having done, he laid by his Lute, the which the Princess bequeathed to Solesia, who in compassion of my (as she thought) ill placed affection, warbled out this cold comfort.  
Fear not faintheart, Time may prove  
A sovereign plaster for your love.  
Such a faith so firmly grounded,  
Such a Love so kindly placed:  
From a Heart so deeply wounded,  
From a person so well graced:  
Needs must get the Hearts desiring,  
Though hope, yet seem not to say it.  
And though this Time seem retiring,  
Time hereafter may repay it.  
Fear not faintheart, Time may prove  
A sovereign plaster for your love.  
I did not conceive the meaning of her conceit, until I understood she did suspect I affected her Cousin, and so to put me in hope (being glad I accompanied her Lover) she animated me, with that I did requite it, when it pleased Love to do by me, as by then assuring her how entirely she was beloved of my friend, whereof I had experience, in the many days I continued in Lucania. I think Lysander did perceive the affection I bore his sister, yet he showed him so like a Knight, that he not only dissembled it, but seemed to rejoice, & wish my hopes might take place, if that the Callabrian had not been them between. But being no longer able to endure the pestiferous plague of jealousy, on the four Gates of the City, I secretly caused so many shields to be set up, whereon, under an unknown name, I named myself maintainer of the ring, an exercise and pastime much used in that land, by reason it is near unto the Spanish soil, whose nation, challengeth the sole pre-eminence over this exercise, as skilfullest and principal Authors thereof.  
No knight in the City would admit it, seeing the Callabrian did refuse it, unless I did express my name, the which, in that I could not do without danger of my life, I granted notwithstanding, that any should openly defend pollinarda's beauty, which I by another name covertly maintained. Thereupon Agesilao presently subscribed, and and after him many prepared to win at the ring. The day being come, you may think (brave knights) he would show himself in the richest manner he could, as a Prince so famous and happy. So did the Lady attired all in white, adding such virtue to her excellencies, that had I not been enured to suffer discontented pains, my perplexed heart would have burst.  
The sport began, wherein he behaved himself according to his Lady's favours, with which it had not been much, he had performed much more. There were we, my friend Lysander and myself I mean, in several colours, for his attire was green, embroidered with Artechokes of gold, manifesting a majestic mind. But I still with jealousy tormented, durst not but differ from him, appareled in yellow, laced with blue and gold, and mounted on a mighty Courser, which from Apulia I had brought. My companions posy agreed with his content.  
My heart's heart, likes my heart, and I again,  
Like my heart's heart, so both content remain.  
His Lady well understood it, for she tendered him as her soul. Mine was despairing in this manner.  
Despair, I yield, sith all things do agree,  
Into thy claws, to drive despairing me.  
Valiant was the gallant Lysander, to whom I granted the first course, whose prize he won, which was a Pelican, by nature cruel to himself, only to become kind to his kind. It, did Solesia receive with greater joy, than I possessed, seeing my Lady's beauty so ill defended: yet was I revived in my drooping thoughts, hearing how all the multitude adjudged Pollinarda still to be fairest. After him I took my turn, wherein the heavens so aided me, that at every carreire, I took the ring on my lances point. Then in sign of victory, I had a Crown of gold delivered me. They could not have given me a thing the more might please me at that occasion, for I had an other ready made of purpose to present her, if I issued victor. Making my horse set his knees on the ground, I presented them both, but about my prepared Coronet, I had caused to be engraven this posy.  
Well deserves her head a Crown,  
Who Crowns with praise all womankind:  
Therefore, Love hath sent me down,  
As token of his loving mind,  
A Crown, to Crown the Crown of Nature,  
Sovereign of all earthly feature.  
Near me was Agesilao, when I presented the prizes. He presently suspected I was he that had vanquished the jousts in the same colour, since when he noted it by many occasions, as also how I affected his lady. So trusting to many friends and kinsfolks he had in the place, yet chiefly thinking I was unarmed, and being spurred with a jealous frenzy, he stepped to me, so did my friend, suspecting there would be some hurly burly: He thus said. I know not knight, whereon thou hast grounded thy presumption, so to deliver the prizes in such prejudicial manner. Whereupon to move him, I replied. To see how ill the excellent beauty of this sovereign princess is defended: for if accordingly some were so rewarded with favour, you might with as great right go without it, as an other that I know.  
He was bold of his valour, and being touched to the quick, he drew his sword against me. He had got nothing by the adventure, for saving my head, I was else all armed, and with mine in my hand, at two steps I was within him, so near, that he had not satisfied his boldness with less than his life: but we were separated by the standers by, that it proceeded no farther than in words.  
Every one blamed him, which encouraged me (without respect of displeasing my Lady) to challenge, & cast him my honours gage, as a warning he should be always provided, against wheresoever we met. We departed thence, and I so angered, that I thought it long till I encountered him. Now the Revels of that night being ended, the two were contracted with the Father's public consent: and the hour of rest approached, every one withdrew into his lodging, so that Agesilao possessed with excess of joy, and forgetting my challenge, he closely with two men got him under his Lady's window, where, knowing what pleasure she received with his Music, he played this Ditty upon his Lute.  

What ere he is that would behold,  
Imperious Cupid's sporting place:  
Here to gaze, let him be bold,  
On this beauteous comely grace.   

Here doth rarest beauty dwell,  
On her brow doth Cupid sit:  
This is she that doth excel,  
Both for her beauty, love and wit.   

In her Cupid taketh rest,  
joy and bliss with her have end:  
Who knoweth her, is double blest,  
Whose beauty day, to night doth lend.   
My rage swelling heart, could not suffer him to proceed farther, for with more fury than my fear would allow, I rushed upon him, saying: The time and place doth now fit (discourteous Prince) that the death of one of us shall testify the valour of the other. I being alone, and himself accompanied with two, made them the bolder all three to assail me: I refused them not, but valiantly put myself among them: I mortally wounded one, which gave me way the sooner to meet with the unhappy Prince, who so little lived to enjoy his loving hopes: for driving him before me till he was under his Mistress window, with a strong thrust I ran him through: where the blind Goddess of Chance, seemed yet to favour him, as to be stuck to his Lady's wall. At the last groan wherewith he yielded his soul, I heard another, the fearfullest, that ever before or since I heard, because it proceeded from Pollinarda. It so daunted me, that I had like to have been taken, all the knights guard, with others, being thither come. As secretly as I might I shrunk away, till I had time to set my safety on my feet, getting to my Lodging, saying nothing of what had happened unto my friend, yet had he questioned me about it, he could not but have perceived it. What else befell, the next Chapter shall rehearse.   

CHAP. XXVIII. How the Prince of Apulia, with much pity continued the discourse of his life unto the Greek Princes.  
TO prove how many dangers, and perilous inconveniences the disordinate passion of inconsiderate Love doth cause, there shall need no arguments nor preambles of large discourses to aver it: for the experience that every one sustains by pains and griefs thereof, together with the opinion of that famous Philosopher that said: If this disordered Motive of intemperate and furious motions, had not been indengered in the breasts of mortals, as some plague and scourge for evils, infinite and Capital deadly crimes had never been committed, nor imagined. Well is this saying confirmed by the unhappy death of the Portuguese prince, at the hands of the Apulian Florisiano: who with equal grace and grief, prosecuted the tenor of his woes thus.  
The bitter exclamatios that sounded in the Palace (brave knights) and the hurly burly of the City, seemed no less, than had it been round begirt with enemies. Dead as he was, he was carried to the Lady, so she gave in charge, for loving him so dearly in his life, she would not in his death forsake him. She did lamentably bewail over the murdered Corpses, when I disguised came thither, for I could not but go and see her, of whose sorrow I had been the causer. Oh cruel heavens (said the woeful Lady) with what barbarous immanity have you extended your rigorous power on me, more than on any Lady else? Oh Savage and inhuman wretch, murderer of my soul, may it be there shall want justice, where such bloody deeds have abounded? Ay me unfortunate Prince, how cruelly in thy tender years art thou by an untimely death persecuted. A thousand times did she sound upon the deceased Trunk, holding it in her lap. So extreme were my passions (Sir knights) that to see him in that manner, I almost became jealous, judging I had favoured him, by so shedding of his blood, that in death (were it not senseless) to enjoy so sweet a favour. Considering my great entire love, my state for his I would have changed.  
By little and little I approached so near her, that lifting up her eyes, she met with him that was cause of all her sorrow: she supposing it, cried out aloud and said: Why do you suffer the bloody murderer with such presumption to appear thus before the murdered? Oh Gods, sufficient strength, did I then desire, sufficiently to be revenged.  
Some of the dead princes Allies, did suddenly arise, which forced me without farther regard, to show myself guilty of the fact by drawing my weapons. Above forty swords did presently fly about mine ears. The Pillars of the yard (whither I was got following Pollinarda) defended my back, whereby having slain three or four, the rest with fear retired, giving me leave to return unto the place where the Lady continued her laments.  
There I said I would yield both myself and my weapons into the Princess hand. So joyfully I resolved to accompany the dead prince, to please the Lady, and thereupon taking my sword by the point, prostrated on my knees, I said: Most excellent Lady, if any offence hath been committed, it hath been with this, wherewith you may take what revenge you will on me, that was the executioner thereof.  
Believe me (heroic knights) there is no cruelty like to that, kindled within the breast of an angry woman, peremptorily resolved, for so she may have her will, no life she doth respect. She took the sword, and with enraged courage, she offered to execute what I had accounted my happiness, so she were contented: but her strength failed her in the execution of the blow, falling after the blade in a trance, whose point scratching my Front, did let forth my blood. And though greater wounds then that I had not felt, yet that I noted, when the Lady returning to herself, I spied my dear blood on her face, as the spoils of her intent. A sufficient mark was that (brave knights) to assuage the greatest pain.  
Millions of thanks gave I Fortune for it, attributing that hap to her: for being so rare, it could not but proceed from such a blind distributresse of unexpected benefits. I had no power to defend me from those that assailed me, being weaponless, who had given me a thousand deaths, much more one, but that my friend and faithful Lysander, arrived at the instant, who drawing his sword, approved his friendship to be great, by shielding me from a shameful death, though not from a rigorous prison, where the King commanded me that night to be cast in, showing himself to be most exceedingly angry and grieved.  
You may easily suppose (worthy Sirs) what I might feel, being in that sort imprisoned, especially, when the next day I was adjudged in the open place to be beheaded. I did not so much sorrow to be led to die, as to departed in my Lady's disgrace. Who most like an eager Tiger of Hyrcania, still cried and yelled out for revenge.  
But it pleased my inconstant chance, (from whence I gather, I was reserved to suffer greater pains) that I should know my jailor, being a knight both gentle and kind, whom by deserts I had bound to pleasure me: for in former times, I had no less saved him then his life, defending it from them that would have spilled it. He much encouraged me: saying, he would for my sake undertake any peril, being thereto long since indebted.  
His kindness did much comfort me, although I never imagined to steal from prison, for all he would have set me at liberty, for I was resolved to die loving her, by that means working my Lady's content, that she might see I suffered the deserved punishment, on me inflicted for so displeasing her. I only entreated him, by the amity and love I had once shown him, seeing my death was not to be avoided, and that I might leave the world contently, he should procure the delivery of a letter from me to my Lady, for it would be my latest happiness. He had before that (noble knights) heard me complain, and utter my true heart's sorrow, together with the cause thereof: which made him bid me write, for he would with his own hand convey it to hers, and also get me an answer. To which courtesy I replied. Had I much more done for you then I have (sir knight) this your kind offer is a sufficient satisfaction for the same, binding me anew (over and above your love) to procure your content in any thing I may: to effect which desire, oh would I had a long life, that a deed so rare and in such distress offered and performed, might with sufficient recompense be guerdoned.  
Thus animated I writ my letter, whose copy I have about me, the which, though it may seem troublesome to you, I will read, together with the answer: and then you will say, I have reason to complain. He drew his letter, and opening it with a sigh, he read it thus.  
Florisianos' Letter to Pollinarda.  
NOt without fear (most sovereign Princess of Lucania) even at the last moment of my life, do I presume to write, not entreating that I may live, for that, nor the entireness of my Love to your service, will permit it, nor yet can I persuade myself it would sort to any good effect, because I am the petitioner: for although it sometimes passed through my pensive thoughts to demand it, to employ the same to your content, It presently vanisheth like air, with remembrance of the unhappy success of your distressed Lovers untimely fall. And although my fault may have some hope of pardon, being committed through the abundance of pure Love, yet is it crossed, because it was against thee, when I only should have dissembled my pain, and not (procuring to assuage it) increase thine in the highest degree. But I am resolved to die, seeing you and my misfortunes, will have, and have ordained it so. I do not offend, beseeching thee, that with thy leave, I may entreat to be carried to the place of execution along by thy window, for the sight of thy presence, will much abate my grief and tertor of so sharp a death. It shall be a favour that with content will licence my departure, when this hapless body trodden down with woes, shall be dispossessed of life. The immortal Gods preserve thine as they can, and he wishes that expects the approaching of the expiring minute of his.  
Having done, to the Court did the jailor (sir knights) high him. He was a man in whom the King and all the Nobility reposed much trust: so might he enter uncontrolled into fair pollinarda's chamber, whom (as he told me) he found clad all in mourning, still continuing her laments. By little and little in their discourses, he forced her by occasion to demand for me: whereto he replied. I was one that momentarily expected his death, from whom I took this letter, finding it on his Desk, and seeing it was directed to your Highness, I here bring it to be burnt, lest it import some further evil. He did so cunningly deliver it, and skilfully persuade the reading, that she thought him ignorant of the tenor. She took and perused it, from whence redounded the proceeding of the greatest cruelty ever heard of. From Medea and Progne hath Pollinarda taken their names of cruel: for her answer, denotes her much more inhuman, the which I do entreat you to attend, that you may be assured what power a woman's rage is of, to execute her will. The contents of her reply be these.  
pollinarda's answer to Florisiano.  
COnfounded was I twixt two extremes by thy Letter, (most bloody knight, and the cruelest that was ever borne:) the one increased my pain, thinking on thy presumption, and my ignorance in receiving thy lewd scribbled paper, because it came from him that bereft me of my life, murdering that unhappy Prince. The other which I account worse than hell, to be constrained to answer thee: because to dissemble with thy letter, were to give aim to thy boldness, with occasion that thou mightest think it pleased me, (by my silence) to grant thy request, admitting thy least evil, the which myself denying it, and adding ten times more tortures to thy deserved punishment, it would be termed no new cruelty, proceeding from me so exceedingly wronged and offended. My sight thou hast no need to desire, if it shall any thing avail for thy content: for he that spoiled me of my joy, hath no reason to demand any. And since thou murderedst his life that did not merit it, thou hast merited the cruelest death that may be devised, the which I will hasten to execution. I cannot wish thee life, to end mine: because I do procure thy death to comfort me.  
He hath reason (noble Knights said the Prince, having ended) to pine, to languish, to travel without joy and content, that lived to see so kind a letter as mine, answered with such disdain and rigour. Who hath ever heard of such cruelty as this? I had no tongue to complain of her, nor power to ban my luckless stars. For considering how I did offend her, I thought this course of wrath too little: But I desired (so dearly did I love Pollinarda) it should be said of her, she had with greatest bounty and nobleness, forgiven the greatest enemy of her content, and sole spoiler of her joy, for that had been a manifest token of selfe-conquest over her own anger, and revenging thirst, which is the sole glory above all others, to eternize an honourable mind, because it is generally accorded, that to be a greater triumph obtained over our proper selves, then to vanquish either heaven or earth. Only for this is that Lady much bound to me, that I never desired nor imagined any thing, but to the advancement of her honour and fame.  
My gentle Keeper greatly comforted me, knowing how entirely I loved. He performed an act, the which having since (without affection) often deeply wondered with myself, yet could I never resolve me of the cause, more than the motion of a virtuous inclination, to commiserate a hapless chance. It was, that being thoroughly grieved, to see I should the next day be openly beheaded, (against which execution, my dear friend Lycanders' intercessions nothing prevailed) that entering my chamber with a courage resolve, he thus spoke unto me. You see (sir knight) what the king hath determined on your affairs, it doth so grieve my very soul, that to save your life, I would gladly lose mine, and hazard my credit with his Majesty, wronging his reposed confidence in me, and will give you liberty through this Tower, for it is impossible you should scape by this Gate, by reason of the strong guard that keeps you. And grieve not thus to discontent your Lady, for the process of time will lessen her concealed sorrow for Agesilaos death, better than yours may now satisfy her revenge. Let it be so, and by this means reserve your life, be it but to employ it in loving her: for it is not the part of a noble breast to despair of every thing, but it rather belongs to a courageous mind, to nourish his decaying hopes with bold confidence.  
He so well persuaded me (most famous knights) that I resolved to preserve my life by that sour remedy. And first to comfort him, for the deprivation of his estate, which he willingly did forego to escape away with me, I told him for whom I undertook that danger, discovering myself unto him. It gladded him, and thereupon he took off my bolts and gives, wherein my adverse fortune had bound me, and so the night being come, we descended the Tower by a corded ladder, through a window that overlooked the sea coast, where he had provided a well rigged Bark: entering therein a main, we launched from the City of Frossa, not without many sighs & tears from my heart, thinking how much I did displease the Lady of my life thereby, in that her pleasure consisted on my death.  
Three days did we navigate with a fair jail, which made me think, I better fared on the seas, then on the land. The second time would not Fortune let me repeat it, for conspiring with Aeolus, they both would needs try their fierceness on my patience, with the cruelest storm that hath been seen: for the waves beginning to swell, threatening the heavens and strongest rocks, what might not we fear, that were tossed on their billows, sometimes hoist to the clouds, and then cast lower than the centre of the earth? So that he which suffered less pain, was glad to submit to death's stroke. Such and so many flashes of water came tumbling into our weatherbeaten vessel, that full against our wills, we were forced to taste the savour of Neptune's saultest liquor.  
On the sudden we were surprised with such a whirlwind, that we lost all hope of recovery, for the persecuted Bark lay wallowed up and down, above half an hour, until a contrary wind overmaistring the tempest, cast it near the shore, and running on a shoal, it split in the midst. Our clamours and shrieks then, are not to be believed, nor will I rehearse them, for my tongue is insufficient. He that by chance got then any advantage, was by fastening on some piece of board, a little to prolong his life. It was so hideous dark, that none could see the other, nor light any fire could we, for the wind dispearcing it, would blow it out. Thus grappled on a plank, I left my friend, and wrestling with the seas, fortune, and death: the Gods permitted me (yet I know not why) to save my abhorred life. And about the dawning of the day, I found myself on the sandy Haven of Argier, so bruised and tired, that I could not stand on my feet, for besides my toils, I had not slept in four days before, still by moments expecting my near approaching death.  
I was willing to take a nap, before I would go into the country, so stepping among some growing weeds, I slept a good while, receiving a little rest and ease. Quickly was it bereft me, falling in the hands of those barbarous Infidels of that Sconce, that neither pitlie nor pardon any, though they be of their own sect, so much they trust to the strength of that their Castle. They carried me unto a rich Turk, Lieutenant of the Fortress, who bought me for two hundredth Chequins, to serve him with his other slaves. I employed the utmost of my power therein, which redownded to such effect, that he trusted me above all his other servitors. My painful, diligent, and careful service, came to the kings hearing, that he would needs have me from his Lieutenant, paying the double that my first Master had done for me.  
I will omit (valiant Princes) how I might grieve to be so hurried from Market to Market to be sold. It pleased my fortune to let me so far obtain the King's grace, as that he let me go at liberty without bands, but marked in the front as his slave. I learned to speak the language, which much availed me, would I have violated my faith consecrated to my Lady, for Troyla his daughter did even dote on me: but to him that had vowed his soul to pollinarda's excellencies, and wanting the consolation of her presence, that increased his torment.  
I purpose to shun her importunities, once of so many times, they had injustly bought and sold me to run away. One night among the rest, I resolved to do it, the which I might easily accomplish, considering the much liberty I had: yet would I not do it without a farewell of the beauteous Troyla, because I would not seem ungrateful for her love and favours. You may imagine how she might take it, affecting me (in my opinion) as herself: nevertheless, her true love tears could not stay poor distressed Iaroe, so was I called by the Turks. She seeing me thus obstinately determined, requested to know who I was, than which she required no other comfort: I did not hazard much thereby, and therefore satisfied her. It somewhat quieted her, protesting to come to my kingdom, or never to receive husband, but at my hands. Thereupon I took my leave, a thousand times embraced by her, for I durst not do it, fearing thereby to wrong her, that is the lodestar of my joys.  
She gave me more necessaries for my journey than I needed, and therewith departed from Argier, where I nothing got, but like a slave to be marked in the forehead. I could not rest, so tormented was I with variable cogitations, yet in the end I resolved to return into Lucania, sure to be known of none, for that my cares, and the troubles of the seas, had impaired and altered my countenance, as also my slaves mark.  
And considering how long since I was yoked and captivated with loves slavery, I nothing grieved at the signs thereof: for accounting them given me as by pollinarda's hands, I did therein repute myself most happy. In these tempestuous toils, and turbulent shipwrecks, spent I one year and an half, which was too much to be forgot, though not in my Lady's Palace. I thought that Fortune (by aiding me with prosperous gales) would now at length seem to pity me, for in few days I arrived in Lucania, where I inquired how matters passed.  
I was informed, that one of the strongest knights now known (the Greek Princes that admit no comparative, excepted) was thither come. The deceased Princes younger brother he was: but far valianter: for there is no Giant able to withstand him. He solicited and wooed by all means to obtain the Ladies good will, knowing there past no more between her and his brother, than an exterior affection confirmed with espoused faith. Yet doth he insist therein, 〈◊〉 haughty and proud is Asternio the fierce, so is he named. Many times was I about to buy horse and armour, to try my fortune, which is unable to suffer any Competitor in my love and hopes. But I let it alone, to see to what end my slavish turkish habit would sort unto. Sometimes I beheld her, which was no small redress to my afflicted mind, yet was it tempered, seeing her disconted, which pure love made me think was for Agesilao.  
So one day walking near her chamber window, I met with my friend the Prince Lysander. Even from his secret cabinet, did my heart leap with his sudden sight. He stayed to look on me, and seeing me attired like a Turk, with a turban on my head, and the rest of my apparel neat and clean, he demanded whence I was. I answered of Carthage, and that by great good hap I had freed myself from Algiers bondage.  
He entreated me (I know not if through affection) to become his servant. I agreed thereto, only again to try my fortune that way. Thence we went to the Palace, where he acquainted his new servitor with his Parents. My Lady was present, whose presence made every joint & vain tremble within me, in their several motion, yet now and then casting my eyes unto the Sunshine of her beauty, I drew strength from it, to support my weak mind, to make reply to their demands: for seeing me so young, in that no hair yet budded in my face, they comiferated the relation of my troubles, imprisonments, and slaveries: yet this nothing grieved me (said I) for I cannot remember when I was mine own, and therefore supposing I was marked to no other freedom, I did till now patiently bear my slavish bondage, as if I had been borne thereto, and I believe it will never be otherwise, my fortunes so continued it.  
Gladly would I have had my Lady understood it, (so she might not know me) and with what affection I did utter it, as he that so long since was wholly devoted to her perfections. There was none in all the Court but took liking in me, especially my Lord Lysander, that favoured me that night to take me with him, with swords & bucklers, and privy coats, secretly to walk abroad, crossing the backside of a Guard that leaded him to his Lady Solesias lodging. His kindness and familiarity was a means that he did not entreat me as a servant, but as if he had known me, making me the Secretary of his Loves, the surest token of true amity that may be in this age. I cannot otherwise believe, but that Cupid now at length thought himself wronged, seeing Pollinarda so rebellious and cruel towards him and me. So she that could not love Florisiano, Venus' son with his almighty power, forced to affect poor Iaroe, which name I would not change, for under that title Fortune had offered me, in obtaining the grace of Troyla Princess of Argier.  
Quickly did Pollinarda express manifest tokens of her change, demanding me whether I needed aught, if yea, my demand should be the effect of my desire. Neither was I able to answer, nor did I ever make known Florisianos' great necessities: but rather perceiving what she meant, as one skilful in the Art, I seemed strange and regardless of her offer, to be more assured of her faith, that after no occasion might frustrate our expects. My strangeness effected what I wished, for by this, jaroe's Love had made her more solicit. I doubted not thereof, noting the wooing motions of her eyes. Oh, they be the sweet silent Ambassadors, soliciting the soul's want.  
Many times would I set myself at a window, to ruminate alone the felicity of my state: then would I say to myself: Oh, who might deal some of my abounding favours with disconted Florisiano? Oh Gods, how envious became the Prince of Apulia, to see Iaroe so beloved, and himself utterly abhorred. Oftentimes recounting my many favours, I found them so infinite, that I was contented to let the Prince share with jaroe's glory and happiness.  
One night, (oh happy night among the rest) did the Lady at full make known her vehement passions, for I being by my master commanded to watch till one of the clock, because we should then walk abroad, I got me in that season not far from her chamber. I think there was some false door, for when I was giving thanks to Cupid for the benefits I received, I heard some bustling there. I started somewhat amazed: and looking what it might be, I saw her that now governs my heart, appear more fairer than Diana. A silver Candlestick with a Taper she held in her hand. With cap in hand (for she was my Empress) I ran to take it from her. Oh love, to none but whom thou lists thou dost distribute thy favours. She plainly (excellent knights) showed herself to be solely mine: for wanting the power to move the Organs of her voice, yet her eyes firmly fixed on mine, she would not let the candlestick go. Oh Loves sweet war! In faith (Noble Sirs) you would have smiled to see the beauteous Pollinarda by silence and dumb action, confess she did love, acknowledging his sovereignty, and her tributary duty to his deity, granting those favours as hostage of her faith, unto his servant Iaroe. Oh do not suffer him (most sacred Lady, said I) so much to offend, that was only created to adore you.  
With this speech, she perceived the fault she had committed: whereupon with consent we set the Taper on the table, while she replied. The imagination (Iaroe) thou mightest ill suspect, of this my coming thus to visit thee, hath bereft me of all strength and understanding: but that thou mayest know wherefore I come, it is thus: I must have thee tell me thy proper name, for I am sure thou hast some other. This will I not be denied, vowing to keep it secret, that thou mayest receive no harm therefore. You may well think how I might stand confounded with her demand: answer I could not, which made her more eager to know it. Again, she urged me, that I was enforced to say, I cannot conceive (divine Princess) why you are importunate to know the thing that will most of all others grieve you: oh let me not be the cause to renew your sorrow, for I will first be my own murderer.  
The amorous Dame replied: Did I imagine to receive any, I would not demand it: but doing so, I assure you, you shall not in any thing more content me, then in that. I answered her thus. Well, for all this, I am sure (fair Princess) the knowledge of my name will vex you. Wherefore I humbly entreat you to hold this dagger in your hand, that ending my speech, you also end poor jaroe's life. Know therefore (sovereign Pollinarda) I was borne as I said in Carthage, but am called Florisiano: I changed it, because I heard, that in times past one of this name had exceedingly displeased you, by slaying the Prince of Calabria: wherefore, seeing how hated that name was in this house, I durst not come hither with it, fearing to refresh therewith, the memory of passed griefs. Oh exceeding power of love, for though (Sir Knights) I remembered the things she did most love and hate, she showed no whit of alteration, but returning my poniard, said.  
Little need had you Florisiano, to alter your name for any such fear, knowing that only for it, the first of the same had been forgiven. Farther she did not proceed, nor more openly bewray her affection.  
I dissembled my joy, sharing it with Iaroe, whom now me thought began to be forgot: I would therein recompense him for his former kindness towards Florisiano. The time would no longer permit us to chat, for the hour of my departure being come, I was constrained to tell her so. She was content, advising me to be secret, because she would that way often visit me.  
I imagine (Sir Knights) that you think both tongue and soul swore a solemn performance of her dear command, and if you so think, I assure you, your thoughts deceive you not: for my soul that still hanged upon her lips, received her command, with no less sentence of the Delphian Oracle: then rising, with a pleasant smiling she said: I pray Lord Florisiano, let us entreat your Turkeship, Christianly to conduct us to our lodging, and then we'll licence your departure. All ravished with joy, not able to speak a word, I went with her to her chamber door: and then falling on my knees and kissing her hand, desiring her to account me hers: I took my leave, leaving my soul in her bosom, and returned to my Lord's lodging: where we prepared ourselves for our walk.  
He did an act, that I judged most kind, for he gave me a garment that had been mine, saying: Hold Iaroe, for since Fortune rob me of his owner, none hath better deserved it. I put it on, and greatly wondered how he knew me not.  
Away we went, arriving to the window where his Lady expected him: I stayed to guard the passage, with such resolution, that all the world, yea Florisiano of Apulia, had not passed there: with the first, and with the favoured last, was Iaroe now in disgrace, seeing the alteration of his fortunes.  
So if with patience you will attend me, the next Chapter shall unfold what else happened   

CHAP. XXIX. How the Prince of Apulia ended the discourse of his amorous life to the Greek Princes, and how Claridiano pitying his estate, departed with him.  
WHat strong residence the power of loves affection hath within an amorous breast (fair Ladies) the beawteous Pollinarda's sudden and unexpected change (which Agesilao bought full dearly) doth amply show: for not remembering how greatly she had loved him, how bitterly she had taken his death, and with what rigour she procured his revenge, she recanted, and without consideration of her honour's blemish, doted on a slave. A just guerdon, that seeing she would not affect the Knight, that with such firm proofs had approved himself to be hers, and by his deeds, worthy of her estimate, she now beheld the subject of her joys, with slavish marks, and that her blind and vain passion, might so far exceed as to say, that for the second Florisianos' sake, the first had been pardoned.  
There is none that may safely build his assurance on such effects, if once he have opened his doors to loves flatteries. In pensive imaginations had the Lover put the Greeks with his amorous History, that they would not so soon have it end. But the youth that aggravated his woes with repetition of his former griefs, abbreviated, saying.  
There stayed I (Heroic knights) gazing on the vesture that belonged to the Apulian, till that my Lord Lysander having excused himself to his lady, of certain objections laid against him, I think it was but some jealous imagination, they would assure all inconveniences, by an espousal contraction, especially befitting them both. So he came for me to be a witness thereto, but ere he discovered himself, he would needs try the vygor of my arms, coming an other way disguised for the purpose: and being near me, he drew, saying.  
What madness hath brought thee to so suspicious a place, where thy boldness shall reap no other again, than a remorseless death? I was so careful to let none pass, nor to disclose who I was, that without more ado, or other answer, I set upon my dearest friend. In faith I rejoiced to see how well he behaved himself, although I knew him not, but I being thoroughly incensed, I began to follow him in such sort, that I drove him among the hedges of the Orchard, faithfully discharging my duty.  
It behoved him to speak, lest some danger had happened, so he raised his voice, miscalling me therewith, which more grieved me, then if he had mortally wounded me: for seeing me with eager fury, press to take advantage at full to hit him, he said. Oh Turkish dog, what dost thou? I knew my Lord Lysander's voice, and believe me (Noble warriors) I was never more vexed: but that I tendered him as my soul, jaore had surely kept him from enjoying his loves, yet I stayed my hand, considering his friendship towards the Prince of Apulia.  
So I took my sword by the point, and entreated him to pardon me, for my not knowing him, had forced me to commit that fault. The faith (answered he) wherewith (friend Iaroe) thou backest thy Master, brings with it thy excuse, for never had any knight a better servant than I: But that thou mayest know how I esteem thee, come, for I will have thee be a witness to the faith I will plight unto Solecia, to be her firm Lover.  
He bound me eternally by the act: And the Moon then shining bright, it shined just in the midst of the Lady's window where she stayed: and credit me, she seemed beautiful. She had so affected Florisiano Prince of Apulia, that seeing me with his own garments, she could not but pity him, calling me to memory.  
With my hat in hand (as a servant ought) I stood still, but she called me, saying. Come thee hither friend Iaroe, for I will have this assurance pass in thy presence, and my joys should I account complete, were the owner of thy apparel in thy place.  
Oh, if that were so, my dear espouse (said my tenderhearted friend) what greater content could we more desire.  
Towards whom might the blind Goddess show herself more favourable then to us, had she now sent us that valiant knight, crossed with so many troubles? Some tears did I espy in their eyes, which so greatly moved me, that I could no longer dissemble, and going more near them, I thus spoke: My very soul would joy (most sovereign Princes) although I lost this good, to see that knight here, who is the happiest in the world to be beloved of such Princes: for than should fortune neither bereave Iaroe of this content, (oh Gods I could scarce make an end) nor yet should the despairing Knight be so persecuted by her, as not to enjoy your happy presence, & by experience see, with what faith he is affected. And if you regard him, behold me here, for more troubles yet reserved: And since I am eye witness of the strongest and purest amity that can be, oh let the knight in yellow satisfy it with the like, and with endless service perpetually to honour you. And wonder not to see me thus attired, for the successes that have me befallen, makes me admire how I have escaped with life. I will not (because I cannot sufficiently) express (excellent knights) the joy those Princes conceived with my sight. They embraced me as I were their brother, yet had I been so, they could not have done more.  
They plainly had perceived I was enamoured of Pollinarda, since to such manifest hazard of my life, I durst adventure to come to the Court. He so richly performed the part of a Noble Prince, that knowing I desired to be concealed, and not to be entreated otherwise then a servant, he also seemed content that I should affect his sister. Much better did the fair Lady take my part, saying. Believe me, henceforth none but I will solicit jaroe's affairs, which should have no ill success, seeing he refuseth his other name: so will I procure to redress the most difficultest, that we may live contented.  
She forgot it not the next day, going to visit my Lady in her chamber, where she found her troubled with many amorous doubts: now misconstring of her favours shown me, then judging it not sufficient to my deserts, and her love. We departed thence overcome with joy, and being in our Chamber, and the Prince laid in bed, I betook me to a window that looked into the Garden, to recount the favours I received: where in brief I omitted none, singing unto the silent night, the pleasure of my conceived happiness, unable to devise what means I might choose to be known unto the Princess.  
She was so far in love, and therein so much out of quiet (no Lover had ever any) that she overheard my song, and I think she gathered thereby, herself had only the power to glad my sorrowful soul. And as the Infant Solesia came afterwards, and began to talk of me, she so well dealt for me, speaking more than I deserved, that she altogether made conquest of her heart for me: insomuch that she had almost discored it. For that time the Lady would not press her any more, which if she had, Pollinarda would of force explaind her great love towards me.  
That night which was the last of my content, she came to hear Music, and as I always used, I took my Lute and went to the window, where (not thinking because it was so late any had heard me) I began to sing, and openly to express the sovereign joy of my heart, in this manner.  

Oh, who would think that Bondage could be Free?  
That, deep-hart-wounding could beget all gladness,  
That, most accursed, could the most happiest be,  
That, that which all count grief, should kill all sadness,  
Let all men note these miracles in me,  
Whom Love hath raised from the depth of badness  
Unto the highest, of all high degree,  
Even then, when nothing ruled my soul; but madness.   

Blessed be the heavenly power, whose powerful might  
Hath dulled the keen edge, of her just disdaining:  
And ever blessed be her noble spirit  
That heard (with pity) my sad souls complaining:  
Blest be the grief of past afflictions night,  
Sith it, more sweet, doth make my present gaining,  
Blessed be the Time, that lent me first her sight,  
But triple blest the Time of grace obtaining.  
You marks of bondage: (too) which did invest  
Me in these blessings: ever be you blest.   
Longer had I made my song, but that I heard a noise, which not only made me leave, but also with some alteration to draw my weapons, not thinking my life's happiness would seek me at that hour. With my sword in one hand, and buckler in the other, I awaited the success, when in the way accustomed, I espied that sovereign Lady, so excellent beautiful, that with her only sight, I thought myself transported into the skies. Smiling she came, showing the heaven of her face full of joyful hopes. She first said thus. Methinks that strange, and ireful kind of entertainment, for her that solely procures thy content: Oh what sweet words? these be they that now feed me in this cruel absence: and more she said thus.  
And in faith I have not conceived small pleasure hearing thee sing, expressing the secrets of thy amorous heart: and for the great love the Prince my brother beareth thee, I will endeavour (if you tell me who your Lady is) to get your liberty, that you may better attend her service.  
With my soul full of gladness I replied. It is the condition (most sovereign Lady) of all powerful Love to pardon none, among which number, he hath from the beginning so subdued my heart, that I have always delighted to treat of his affairs with myself, being most alone: although the Lady I adore and idolatrize, be resolved never to favour me.  
I have not dared even from the spring of my loves, to do more than sing the joy my heart conceives to account myself hers. Where to she answered. And is it possible thou art so cunning in dissembling thy affection? Now by my troth, wert thou to be my gallant, thou shouldest not suffer so many torments. And believe me, there is never any thing lost by discovering to the Lady the interior secrets of the heart, and how she is beloved: for otherwise thus to dissemble, is rather occasion of further evil, because it is likely, (nay it often happens) that the Lady may place her affection on some other, and so thou lose that benefit, through silence.  
I have already set my chief happiness therein (did I reply) most beawteous Lady, and therefore I cannot but be silent, and love, although I die.  
Well hath my Lady understood what I require, and how I love: for mine eyes sometimes forgetting their other motions, repairing unto the heaven of that beauty for some favour, are credible Ambassadors of the heart's intent.  
That is not sufficient (said she) to make her resolve to love, being beloved: for as touching your gazing, that is so common and general among all men, that the Ladies may judge it as an ordinary thing, not considering the owner of those gazing instruments, doth honour and love her: and therefore it is an error to dissemble, when the pain is estranged. If in recompense of the greatness thereof, (most sacred Lady said I) the author of the same should be discovered, and she acquainted therewith, none with more reason ought to do it then I, for there can be none that hath endured so much, nor any loved with such firmness.  
If there be assurance thereof (replied the Princess) I say thou dost wrong thy Lady, in not letting her know how she is beloved, if it be with such truth as you publish. And therefore because I have this day heard I know not what of the Princess Solesia, thou shalt tell me what I demand, and on my faith none shall know it, but whom thou wilt. You have no reason to bind me to any thing, (excellent Lady replied I) knowing I will till death obey your command. She answered. Why then we shall not so ill disagree as I thought: the thing therefore I would know, is, thou must tell me if thy Lady be here or no, and her name withal, without delay and circumstance: for I shall thereby receive the greatest pleasure in the world, and with the contrary, exceeding discontent, which will be immerited, and no just guerdon for what I mean to do for thee? You may easily conceive (valiant Knights) what conflicts I might endure of contrarious thoughts, not knowing the success that might ensue, if by telling troth, I did condescend unto her demand. Somewhat amazed stood I a while, in so much that she said: you must not devise excuses, for it will fall out worse, if you offend me so. I answered. None did I devise (divine Pollinarda) but I rather began to encourage myself, to pass my life in your disgrace, for nought else can redound hereby, but kindle your fléeping wrath. Be it what it will, (said she) for I am pleased with the knowledge. Why then (replied I) know (sovereign Princess) she is in this City, and of the self same name that you are of, in which repetition I offend her. She proceeded further, saying. And have you never spoken with her? now did I tremble with fear, and then imagined a thousand devices, yet in the end I replied,  
Sovereign Lady, your excellency so far urgeth this matter, that I cannot step from hence, fearing to meet with death, unless you seek his life's overthrow that was borne to serve you. She replied: I will have you tell me all, for I will take it as one that procures your good, as you have partly seen.  
Whereto I answered falling on my knees: Presuming on your Royal word and favours (sacred Lady) I cannot deny but I am yours, imploring pardon for this fault (if it be any) worthy of worse punishment than death. It did not grieve her to hear me say she was the Queen my heart had chosen to imperate over it, and my soul: but rather taking hold by my King (the mark of my slavery) which for my pleasure I often put on, she raised me, saying: Very plainly hast thou (Florisiano) expressed thou lovest me, and if thy constancy wherewith thou dost it, be as thou sayest, so I may enjoy a heart so sincere, and second to none, I give thee leave to do so still, regarding the secrecy due to my honour, until the heavens shall minister those means wherewith I may assuage thy griefs. I required her hands, I could do no less, to kiss them) more glad, than had I been invested sole Emperor of the wide world, and yet that had not so pleased me. She commanded me to take off my King, seeing Fortune had now favoured me, whereto I replied: Oh let not your excellency command me to put off that thing wherewith the heavens have begun to work my joy, lest Fortune enemy to all content, seeing me no more a slave, should triumph over my glory: And though I be a king in loving, and the most glorious and free in being beloved, let me keep this as a memorial: I am and will be yours while my life shall endure, the which losing it in your service, will be the happiest and richest loss in this terrene Orb. If it be so, wear it (replied the Mistress of my life) and yet the taking it off, should nothing impair my affection, which now is only employed in your love.  
Thus was the Sovereign of my soul, weaving this sweet web of my life, on the delicate Loom of both our contents, when blind Fortune Mistress of mischance, being weary and angry that she had helped me that little moment of time, brought it about I know not by what means, that our Loves till then became suspicious in Court, nay further proceeds my woes, (Oh I cannot without tears say more) it came to the King's ears: who desirous to be assured of so dishonourable a deed, as to be beloved of the Princess, he had hid himself in that room unknown to me that very night: and seeing by experience what he had suspected, he issued forth enraged like a mad man. I yet was on my knees, when he came forth, and finding me in that manner, he took me by the colour, and drawing my poniard, said: Oh infamous miscreant, Turkish dog, hast thou thus wronged the trust reposed in thee? The punishment inflicted on thee, shall be a sufficient example to all others such disloyal wretches as thy own self. I had no eyes to look him in the face, nor tongue to answer him, though I wanted not hands to shed his blóod, had not my Ladies and my friend Lysander's displeasure and discontent thereby stayed me. He snatched at her so furiously, that she almost fell upon her face, saying.  
I had not thought (Minion) thy wanton boldness would so have made thee pass the limits of shame and grace, as to bestow thy affection on a slave? He cried to those that awaighted without, whereat four knights rushed in, who strait conveyed me to prison, where I thought they would closely murder me: the which I had gladly received, so she were not hardly handled, that had so bountifully favoured me. The king did commit her, but knowing our affection had been no other than he had seen, he strait (for he loved her dearly) forgave her, turning all his rage upon poor Florisiano. Oh, magnanimous Knights, with how many millions of brinish tears did I bewail that loss? it was believe me the greatest in the world, for none in so short time could be so happy as I, nor none again so unhappy. Nothing I did, but exclaim lamenting, and with woes tormenting my afflicted self.  
At length, being so many, some pierced the high heavens, moving the immortal Gods to pity and commiseration, appointing a means on earth to redeem me: for the Noble Lysander being moved at my disgrace, by policy procured my Gailors to release me of my Irons and bolts, that I might escape through a window, and save my life.  
I grieved no less to departed from Pollinarda, at that time (though in her grace and favour) then at first when like an enemy I ran from her. Yea more than this did my friend solicit in my behalf: for he went to his sister, and discovered to her the whole secret of my affairs, telling her, I was the Knight in yellow, and he that slew her Agesilao, then loving her more than now. I never would tell any who else I was, because I vowed it from the beginning, only to procure her favour or disfavour, without that regard and respect wherein I might be had, being known to be Prince of Apulia, and had not your valour and courtesies bound me thereto, none should have known it.  
The Lady did not grieve at this sweet complot of Love, but rather it kindled in her some new affection. So was I visited in prison from her: which revived my hopes, and added new life to my dying powers. To pleasure the Prince Lysander, my Gaylors took from me my gives.  
The Lady Mistress of my life, knew the night of my departure, and having sometimes before written unto me by her brother, yet than she expressed the utmost of her Love: for I was no sooner downe in the Garden over which the window was that I leapt through, when among a certain company of trees I heard a noise. Supposing it could be none that would do me such pleasure as I after received, I drew my weapons and went towards that place, where I was quickly pacified, seeing a knight I well knew: who with as much brevety as the case required, told me, that my Lady sent me a Letter with money and jewels for my escape.  
I took all, not knowing how to deserve so much good as at her hands I had received: and making my answer according to the merits of those deeds, I took my leave of the knight and went out of the Garden, and traveled till I thought I was out of danger, and hiding myself among certain stéepie Mountains, I unripped the Letters seal, and by the clearness of the Moon, that then shined, I read it thus.  
pollinarda's Letter.  
THe grief (kind Florisiano) to see thee so departed from her that had lodged thee in her breast, is so great, that it will not suffer me to be tedious, although it be my only desire: for seeing that going from mine with such affection, it must rest in thy hands: it were some comfort to me, thus with thee to prattle longer. But ay me, for Fortune thinking we should enjoy too great a happiness thereby, she doth bereave me of my judicial senses and my bteath, yet not so much, but I have strength to say (though not liberty) to aver, that I remain thine till death: which shall first attach me with his grim paws, than I will grant an other (yea) unless it be to him that hath long since with such zeal and constant love, obtained and won my firm faith. The Gods preserve thee me, as they know I wish, and thou deservest.  
Thine till death, Pollinarda.  
This Letter is it (brave warriors) that comforts me, when my grief is at greatest, and this is the food unto my fainting life, whose tedious relation, I am sure hath wearied you.  
Whereto Claridiano said: This kn●●●● and myself (Noble Prince) have taken such pleasure at your loves discourse, that it cannot be expressed: insomuch, it hath bound me to offer my life in your behalf, for I protest, never to put on Armour more, if I deliver not that Lady into your hands, in spite of all the world: wherefore let us strait be gone, although it grieves my very soul to leave this Knight: but your necessity forceth me thereto, because her father to be rid of that care, may marry her to the brother of the deceased Prince.  
That only is the thing which most tormenteth me (answered the Apulian) for doubtless it may happen as you (Sir Knight) have imagined: and may the heavens recompense what now and hereafter you shall do in my behoof: and I much desire to know who you are, that I may venture with more security: for all helps will be necessary to cope with so puissant a King, and a knight so strong as Astrenio.  
By the way you shall know that (said the hasty Greek) for danger now awaits on our delay. He took his leave of his uncle with more love, then when Pe●●hous parted from Theseus: he promised to seek him, if matters succeeded to his content.  
They all rose, the Greek Prince with Florisiano, hasted to their ship, wherein being embarked, they launched into the deep Ocean, where we must leave them, to bring Claramants to Constantinople.   

CHAP. XXX. What happened in the proof of the Disamorous Tower: and how Claramant arrived, and proved it.  
WIth fear to be condemned of too much prolixity, in the amorous discourse of the Prince of Apulias' life, being the thing I most dread, and only seek to shun: and yet no small trouble did it cost me to refuse it, to so brief a summary as I have the which I urge for my excuse, although it need not, if it be read by Cupid's vassals: but whilst this is in question, attend (fairest of all fairs) & most beauteous Ladies, for the trial of the Tower is nothing but love.  
There was none left, but went forth to see it, because the fame thereof drew them thither. So many knights came from the ships, that the City was not able to contain them all, and every one so richly armed, that it delighted every beholder. The spacious yard was in a trice filled with people: and the Ladies with their beauties, made it more glorious than the heavenly Synod of the Gods. For the trial, there wanted no knights, in that ere noon, above two hundredth shields accompanied the others that were before hung up, yet none arrived so high as Brandimardo, (son to the great Affricano) that died upon the conquest of Lyra, in Rosiclers' presence, as was declared in the second part of this History. As the Emperors were about to withdraw to dinner, there entered the place, attended on with a majestic company, a cousin of Abstrusios, no less valiant than he. All in green armour he was clad, bravely garnished with half Moons: the devise on his shield was a Griffion without head, which in his country in battle he had slain. As nimble as a Roe he dismounted, ascending the stairs in such haste, that every one thought he would end the adventure: but arriving where the deceased Pagan had done, ho was charged with so many strong blows, that Galtenor saith he could do no more, then raise one leg to step higher, which was the cause that with more rigour he was thrust out, and his shield placed according to his deserts, next to Brandimardoes. Great honour won Salberno hereby, (so was he named) and had in high estimation, for (his Cousin excepted, that was borne for the seas, whose Lieutenant he was) none could better order a Naval battle than he, as he showed it in the wars of Grecia. The Emperor to favour the Captain general of his Fleets, invited him, which they much esteemed, judging the Greek Monarch the absolutest accomplished in all virtues, of any in the whole universe beside: and themselves most happy, to be joined in amity with such Princes.  
Away they would go, when a kinsman of Pollidolpho of Croatia showed himself, whose arms were of an Indian colour full of strawberries. With gallant bravery he went towards the Tower, where he sped not so ill, as not to be accounted valiant, for his shield was hung next to the Trojan Oristides. To dinner went the Emperors, glad to see what happened in that trial, where they were served with such majesty as their estates required. By themselves sat all the Ladies so exceeding fair, that Paris had doubted to which for beauty he might give the golden apple. Nothing could please the beauteous Archysilora, in absence of her Greek, but rather grieved to see those feastivals, missing the presence of her Prince. She was a thousand times determined to go and seek him: but she left it, supposing the fame of the disamorous Tower would draw him thither, thinking that was he that acccompanied the knight of the Lions, so much she judged him to resemble Claridiano.  
Great comfort was it to her to communicate her grief with Rosamond, that encouraged her as one that was free of such tormenting passions, and yet sore grieved for the want of her dear son Roselindo, of whom she knew not what was become, and many times she was about to demand the wise men for him, had she not thought it too much immodesty.  
She could not but reveal it to her beloved Dacian, who dissembled it as much as he could, yet not without signs of inward sorrow in his very soul: he purposed to seek him, first enquiring of his friend Nabato, the place of his abode, the which animated him, persuading himself he would have especial care of his welfare, being the thing that so near concerned him.  
Dinner being ended, and the table taken up, all that company of Emperors, Kings, Princes, and Knights, with all the Ladies, came forth to see the new comers, that were many, to prove the Tower. It was worthy the travel, and to be desired, what was promised to the victor. Wherefore scarce were the Ladies placed, when with Princely grace there entered the sto●t Lastorus, cousin to Don Silue●io, and General to the Hungarians, and of whom there was good hope. He showed himself to be no less unbeloved than valiant, for his shield was set next to the Trojans.  
So many hasted to the trial, that no sooner one ended, but another was ready. Among them that best behaved themselves, was the gallant Lusitanian, Archylocus, on Siluerios brother, whose shield was also equalled with the last. In such multitudes were those shields hung up, that the Crystalline Tower was almost full. Every one converted their eyes at one side of the place, because they had espied the famous Oristoldo Lord general by land, to whom the Emperor had given that honourable charge, in respect of what his father had done for his son, and he for his Nephew. It was advisedly done by the Greek, for the world did never know a better, nor more fortunate Captain, or more skilfuller in ordering of battle, and presenting it in time. He was beloved of all, and also of the Ladies, although he had not shown himself amorous: for he said, there was nothing more contrary nor troublesome to him that swayed any public command, then to be in love, and to be so, it was necessary for a man to busy himself in nothing but in that new alienation, setting apart all other cares. Accompanied with most of the Nobility came the valiant youth, all in white armour garnished with knots of Gold and Azure. A gallanter knight had not been seen in that trial. Mounted he was on a Roan Courser, with Caparisons of colour like his arms, with so many stones, that their light dazzled the splendour of the Sun, whose rays reverberating on them, deprived the beholder's sight.  
On his head and his own Burgonet, great plumes of feathers, full of spangles of gold. In midst of his shield within a grove of trees, he himself was pictured with his hand under his cheek, leaning upon a bloody lance, at his feet lay the God of Love with bow and arrows, as vanquished by him: on whom he seemed to gaze so carelessly, as if he held his deity in nought. The posse was thus, wreathed about his lance.  
Mars and Cupid differ far,  
Love cannot agree with war:  
And till Mars and Love agree,  
Look not (Love) to conquer me.  
None was more gazed on then the brave Prince of Antioch. Oh, how gallant doth he come (said Lyriano, who greatly tendered him) and I am glad of his liberty, by reason of these Ladies that may well excuse it, for were he in love, he could not then so well guard us. I am sorry (replied Rosiluera) that so free a knight should have any here to take his part, for I know not how so great a wrong as he commits against Ladies by that cruel devise, may be satisfied, but by wishing the thraldom of his liberty. If the world had another Oristoldo (answered the Princess) it were good that this were in love, and the other the care to keep us. Leave we this (said Rosamond) to see what will become of his liberty.  
By this he was arrived at the Tower, where he alighted, and drawing forth his sword, mounted the stairs with such courage, that every one cried out: Lindabrides would be his. One step he ascended higher than Brandimardo. There he stayed, for he was charged with so many blows, that he sped worse than any before, although his honour were greater. His mother and the Princesses that loved him as their son, made him come where they were, and there the Ladies did disarm him with such kindness, as if he were one of the Greek Princes. To whom Lyriana said. I am sorry (Prince Oristoldo) that to show us your liberty, to these Lady's griefs, you have sustained such trouble. He answered. Pleasant is the sourest (most sovereign Princess) if my will and desire be considered, although the devise be against myself, the which shall never keep me from being yours. Now you have lost the entrance (said Artemisa) you show yourself penitent and sorry for your liberty, but you shall not think to have answered it with such small satisfaction. The beauty of these two Ladies had something astonished the free Prince: yet he replied. You shall not need to devise new punishments for him, that must & will be always obedient to your commands (fair Ladies) and let it be enough, I confess I have wronged you, that this acknowledgement may strengthen my excuse, and so lessen my fault, that by purchasing your grace, I may hope for an extenuation of my chastisement. That might be (said Rosiluera) were not your offence greater than may be forgiven.  
No more of this unprofitable that (spoke Archyrosa) for his liberty will sufficiently hereafter plague him, as it hath done many others: and let us now inquire the reason of this tumult: whereat they all looked to see what it was. There was none but said aloud. The adventure is at an end, now the brave knight of the Lions is come. All the Princes turned to see his coming, especially Rosabell, being so greatly bound unto him. What shall I say of Archysilora Queen of Lyra? the changing colours of her face devoted her alteration, thinking her Prince came with him. Already was this warlike Mars past the press of people, mounted on a mighty bay Courser, whose Caparisons coloured like his armour, were embroidered with so many inestimable stones, that the riches of them admired the spectators. On the top of his helm and horses head, were large plumes of divers coloured feathers, that the bravery of both amazed the whole place, that none doubted his victory. The Emperor Alphebo, was he that most rejoiced, because he had and did greatly love that Princess, whom he so easily could not forget, if she had not been allotted to his brother. In midst of whose shield, was drawn a world round like a globe, by which a knight climbed up, to the top whereof he wanted little, whereon sat Fortune, reaching him her hand, with this motto.  
If Fortune's hand be not a stop,  
I will attain the highest top,  
The which, if Fortune do deny,  
Fortune is too blame; not I  
No less pleasure was conceived at the word than the knights gallant disposition: who with admired Majesty passed on, making his horse bend to the earth before the Ladies. It amazed him to see such divine beauty: he stood a good a good while rapt in contemplation: judging it the rarest sight in the world: and indeed he was not deceived, for so many and so fair were never seen together, but there.  
I would be loath (said the Princess Olivia) the knight of the Lions should detract much time in gazing on our beauties, so that when he would not, he be forced to lose the forbidden entrance, not for want of valour, but by his yielding to love.  
There is none here but wishes his good in all things (spoke the Queen of Lyra) for by his means we were all made joyful. Oh, let me keep company with such happy knights (said Artemisa) whose disdain towards Ladies, nor their coming against them so openly to approve themselves their adversaries, in Venus' laws, will not divert their affection from them.  
The desire they have to become Lovers (answered the Empress Claridiana) helps them to be beloved: but let us not not lose the sight of his high deeds: for I have great hope of his victory. There is none here but hath the like, wishing it with their very souls (replied Lyriana) and thereupon I doubt not but he should find some one here that would undertake the combat about the same.  
By this the furious youth was arrived at the Tower gate, where he dismounted, and stuck his lance in the ground, whereat he tied his horse with such beaverie, that every one applauded his behaviour.  
His shield he tied to his saddle pummel, and taking his Axe, with sovereign grace he paced towards the entrance, whose passage many judged too small, considering his fearful aspect. For raising aloft his mighty axe, making the blade shine with her glittering brightness, and he being one of the best proportioned knights on the earth (so he were no Giant) for he was nine foot in height, and of most strong and even composed members, all which were apparent tokens of his excessive strength.  
Scarce did he begin to move to enter the Tower, when there was heard the horrible sound of new warlike instruments, with such cries and clamours of people, that it seemed a whole host was within.  
Upon the top of the Tower appeared squadrons of armed knights, whence also were discharged infinite pieces of Ordinance. Many hideous shrieks, gave warning that the fierce scourge of their house was come.  
This is no impediment to forbid his mounting the stairs, for as if he walked on the plain ground, he ascended them to the very top, whence new cries rezounded, and new keepers were seen to defend him from taking the key of the Tower. A good while he laboured in this rigorous conflict: in the end, settling himself strongly on his feet, he passed his axe into his left hand, and with his right he got the key, wherewith he opened the Tower gate, whereat a new alarm was sounded, which put the battle in some doubt. For four ugly deformed Giants were placed at the door, in defence whereof they executed wonders, having no other care but to prohibit the entrance. Oh who would not delight to see our warlike youth, within the narrowness of the gate, take the axe by the middle, wherewith he misses no blow, and that which he executeth, daunts the place with i'll cold fear, but not those that were only set there to receive them, though the God of battles had discharged then, yet could they not be greater than these. Not without great labour and toil he thrust himself among them, where his deeds were admirable: yet he toiled in vain, for unless he cleaved their heads, he cannot free himself from them, because therein consisted all their strength.  
But now Fortune was of his side, and content that beauteous Princess should be set at liberty, and end so many her troubles, by enjoying him, the heavens had so long since promised her: for labouring in this cruel fight, giving and receiving mighty blows, by good chance he reached one with the blade of his axe upon the head. He cloven it down to the breast, thinking he had cut a rock, so hard he found it. At the very instant he vanished out of sight, whereby he supposed their enchantment lay there.  
Whereupon he began to stretch himself at length with his axe, as a cunning master of his weapon. Every one in the place plainly beheld him, for the walls of the Tower were so transparent, that all was seen, what ere was done in the first Hall. Some alteration did Claridiano feel within her ivory breast, remembering what troubles and dangers she had endured and passed, all caused by that Princess.  
And Meridian was also confounded in imagination of opposed thoughts, which exceedingly grieved him: for if his sister were liberated, his father's large Empery should be hers: but so he might see her, he was content for that time to omit those cogitations, and turned his eyes on the haughty knight, that representing fiery Mars within the Tower, had by this slain another.  
The valiant youth made sure account of the victory, knowing where their strength lay. So he extended all his, to end the battle with them, thinking their deaths would end the enterprise. He made as if he feared them, that they might with unadvised haste follow him.  
It fell out as he desired, and so fetching about the ingrateful Athenian axe, he discharged it with the utmost of his fury, on the top of the ones helm, that both it and helm was cleaft to the waste.  
Having thus done, he determined to close with the last, but ere he cast his arms about him, he ran against him so hard with his shoulders, that he thrust him from him, with more fury than he had been driven by a culverin's shot, and before he recovered himself, the unresisted axe did hit him on the head, doing by it as by the others.  
The Greek thought he had now ended his business, but it happened otherwise: for two knights of gallant disposition, presented themselves before him, without either Arms or weapons, saving Rapiers and Daggers. They issued forth on the sudden, but with the sound of military instruments, that gave signal to a new fight.  
The one said: Most valiant knight, seeing the happiest immured within this Tower must not be with Armour, which we willinglier would have done, the better to eschew your furious blows: but we are commanded the contrary: and therefore, we are forced, and dare not but obey: wherefore, if you will terminate the battle, and thereby conclude the adventure, you must presently put off your Armour, for our combat is permitted only with Rapiers and Daggers.  
Somewhat astonished was the Greek, seeing he must leave his Armour, but it lasted not long, because he would not be tainted with cowardice, and so he thus made answer: I am content (Sir Knights) although it be no good custom, if we may use our Arms, to put them off in such necessary occasion.  
At that instant he set his axe against the wall, and ungyrting his sword, and doing the like by it. The two Knights had such care, and were so vigilant to watch these two weapons, that he was scarcely disarmed, when swifter thou an Eagle they presently snatched them away, that his nimblesse was not able to prohibit it. He never saw himself in danger of death until now: for they of the Tower with those weapons are become more furious than himself.  
They said: Dead art thou Knight, for thy fierceness cannot deliver thee from our hands. Only with his dagger did the Greek youth find himself, wherewith conjoined to his invincible and never daunted courage, he began to defend himself, and with seldséene bravery to maintain what he had won, to the extreme grief of all that beheld him: the which, together with the sorrow conceived to see him so disarmed, and myself overwearied, constraineth me abruptly to leave this war unfinished, that after a little breathing, I may with fresh courage end it in the next part, continuing the relation of the rare deeds, both of the famous Greeks, and valiant Pagans, their Competitors. And if herein I do commit any offence, let, oh let your pardon and your favours exceed my faults, and then, 
Nec Laudare satis, dignasque rependere grates  
Sufficiam, referent superi.    
FINIS.