Mellin de Saint Gelays au Seigneur des Essars. N. de Herberay traducteur du present liure d'Amadis de Gaul.  
Au grand desir à l'instante request,  
De tant d'amys dont tu peux disposer,  
Vouldrois tu bien (o amy) t'opposer  
Par un reffus de chose treshoneste?  
Chascun te pry, & ie t'en admonest,  
Que l' Amadis qu'il t' a pleu exposer  
Vueilles permettre au monde & exposer:  
Car par tes faitz gloire & honneur acquest.  
Estimes tu que Caesar ou Camille,  
Doibuent le cours de leu●r claire memoire  
Au marbre au far, à cyseau ou enclume?  
Toute statue ou medaille est fragile  
Au fill des ans, mais la durable gloire  
Vient de main docte, & bien disante plume.   

Antoine Macault Secretaire & vallet de chambre du Roy, Aux Lecteurs.  
Divins' espritz Françoys de hault scavoir comblez,  
Qui par vive vertu & merit lovable,  
En bien escripuant, ceulx qui bien font, ressemblez,  
Prenez exemple icy certain & honourable  
Que loz immortel vient d'oeuure non paroissable,  
come est le present liure. Et vous oisifz cessarts  
Suyvez ce translateur, qui des branchuz Essars  
Du parler Espaignol, en essartant, deffriche,  
Nostre Amadis de Gaul: & le rend par ses artz  
En son premier Françoys, doulx, orne, proper, & rich.   
THE FIRST BOOK OF Amadis of Gaul.  
Discoursing the Adventures and Love of many Knights and Ladies, as well of the Realm of great Britain▪ as sundry other Countries, etc.  

CHAP. 1. Of whence the kings Garinter and Perion were, and the Combat between Perion and two Knights, as also how he fought with a Lion that devoured a Hart in their presence: with the success following thereon.  
Soon after the passion of our Saviour jesus Christ, there reigned in little Britain a king named Garinter, instructed in the law of verity, and highly adorned with many laudable virtues: having a Noble Lady to his Wife, by whom he had two beautiful Daughters. The eldest (being married with Languines King of Scots,) was commonly called the Lady of the Garland: because the King her Husband, taking great pleasure to behold the golden tresses of her hair, would have them no otherwise covered, then with a fair circle or chaplet of Flowers: Languines enjoying by his Queen, Agraies and Mabila, of whom this present History often maketh mention. The other youngest Daughter to this King Garinter, was named Elisena, very much excelling the eldest in beauty, and though she had been oftentimes desired in marriage, by sundry Princes and great Lords: yet as then she had no will thereto, but for her solitary and holy life, was commonly called of every one, the lost Virgin in Devotion, considering that in a person of such estate, endued with such excellent beauty, and solicited by so many great Princes, this strict religion was not convenient. King Garinter being somewhat in years, for recreation took pleasure in Hunting, when at one time among other it happened, that having appointed a meeting near one of his Cities called Alyma, a Hart was put forth, in pursuit whereof himself wandered very far: wherefore seeing he had lost both his people and game, commending himself to God, he began to make somewhat the more haste, till having traversed first one way and then another, at the very entrance into a Wood, he saw two Knights fight against one. Soon had he knowledge of the twain, in that they were his own Subjects, of whom he had heard sundry complaints: but slender order was taken in the cause, by reason of the great alliance they had in the country, as also for that they kept themselves still in this great Forest. Who the third should be, he marveled, and for that time he so well liked the valour of the one Knight, as he feared not what might happen to the other twain: wherefore he withdrew himself a little further into the Forest, because he might the better behold the issue of the fight, which sorted to such effect, as by the strength of the one Knight, both the other were vauquished and slain. The King beholding what had happened came forth of the Wood, when the Knight seeing one so near him above, thus demanded. Gentle Sir, what centry is this, where Knights errant are thus assailed by robbers & thieves. Let this be no wonder to you Sir, answered the King, for this Country yields as other do, both good and bad. As for them that thus assaulted you, they have done divers and villainous outrages, not only in this Wood, which hath been their accustomed receptacle: but like wise in many other places and chiefly against their Lord and King, who could not execute justice on them, in that they were allied to the best houses in this Realm. And where may I find the King you speak off? said the Knight, for I am come to seek him, to bring him news from a great friend of his. Happen what shall, answered Garinter, I will tell ye so much as I know: understand then for a truth, that I am the man you ask for. At these words the Knight took of his Helmet, and throwing down his shield, ran to embrace him: saying that he was the King Perion of Gaul, who of long time had been desirous to know him. Greatly were these Kings contented, that their meeting was in such fortunate manner, and conferring together on many matters, they took the way through the Wood toward the City, where they thought to find the Hunters: but suddenly a Hart ran before them, which with some danger had escaped the toils: wherefore the Princes galloped after the Dear, hoping to kill it ere they gave over. But it fell out otherwise, for in the pursuit, as they came into the thickest of the wood, a chafed Lion ran before them: which in their sight seayed on the Hart, and having with his strong paws torn it in pieces, turned again, when running furiously against the two Princes, he watched his advantage as if they had angered him, which the King Perion perceiving, in laughter said. You shall not be such a glutton, master Lion, but you shall leave us part of the game. And herewith presently he alighted, because his Horse would not come near the beast, so drawing his Sword, and clasping his shield on his arm, not regarding the cries of King Garinter, who laboured to dissuade him from the attempt, he marched to the Lion, who for defence of his prey, can eagerly against the King, and so between them began a new war. But the Lion being quick and nimble, did so much as he got his enemy under him, yet was the kings heart so good, that albeit he was in very great peril of his person, he was not abashed one jot: but turned himself in such sort, as he thrust his Sword into the belly of the beast, which at that instant fell down dead before him. The King seeing what had happened, was so overcome with marveling at this deed as he said within himself: In sooth, it is no shame to renown one of the best knights in the world. In this mean while, the rest of the train came thither, who for to find their King, had searched long time up and down the Forest. Then was their prey and venison laid on two horses, and carried to the City, where the Queen was immediately advertised of King perion's arrival, and therefore made speedy provision of all things necessary, to welcome and feast so great a Prince. At their coming they found Dinner ready, and the tables covered: wherefore (after the welcomes and reverences done on all sides) the two Kings sat down, so did the Queen, and fair Elisena her Daughter. Now had Love secretly ambushed himself, because he had long time assailed this young Princess, without any power to overcome her: but now he saw her so unprovided, as at this instant hour he might touch her to the quick, and thence forward hold a sure conquest of her. The like in King Perion, who thought of nothing but a fréendlye entertainment, yet when he cast his eye on the Lady Elisena, and she in like sort upon him: by virtue of this pearring regard, her wont chaste and holy life, had no longer power to privilege this Princesie, but she was wonderfully thralled in extreme love to this young King, and he in self same manner to her, albeit till that power, he had his heart frank and free, without subjection in any other place. In this sort during dinner time, they found themselves (for each other) in a strange opinion, till the tables were withdrawn, when the Queen would depart to her Chamber, wherefore Elisena arose to follow her: but as she stepped forward, she let fall a King, which she had put in her bosom when she washed her hands, and so had forgot it, by reason of this new love, that made her think on other matters Now was king Perion some what near her, and desirous to let her know how willingly he would be hers, stooped down as soon as she to take it up, and so right did their hands meet together, as the King had the mean to close her fingers, yet feigning to take up her King. Whereupon this amorous Lady began to change colour, and (notwithstanding) by a sweet regard humbly thanked him. Ah Madame, quoth he, this shall not be the last service I hope to do you, for my whole life time shallbe employed to obey you. Constrained was Elisena (without answering him) to follow the Queen her mother, so surprised and altered, as very near she had forgotten herself: so that not able to endure this new fire of love (which so sudden and vehemently had conquered her wont chaste and choice determination:) with the tears in her eyes, and her heart full of anguish, she went and discovered the same to a faithful Damsel of hers, named Darioletta, praying her most instantly to council her, how she might safely know, if King Perion had not elsewhere placed his love, and whether the affectionate semblance he had shown her, might proceed from force of that impression, which had so lately seared on her heart. The damosel mernailing at this so sudden mutation, and in a person thought so far from any such matter: taking (nevertheless) compassion on her piteous tears, thus answered. I see well Madame, that according to the extreme passion, wherewith the tyrant Love hath tormented ye, he hath left no place in your judgement, where counsel or reason may be entertained: and therefore following not what I ought for your service, but the will I have to obey you, I shall do what you have commanded me, by the most honest means that my little discretion, and the great desire I have to please ye, will permit me. So without any more words, Darioletta went to the Chamber where King Perion was, and at the door she found his Squire, who brought other garments for his Lord to wear, which the damosel took of him. For (quoth she) it is necessary that I perform this service, and you (gentle Squire) may go if you please about your other affairs. The Squire thinking it was the custom of the Country, made no denial, but willingly suffered her to take the Garments, whereupon she entered the Chamber, where the found the King laid on his bed: who seeing her enter, and knowing well it was she, whom he had seen to confer with Elisena most private and in whom (above all other) she put chiefest trust, he thought that she would not come in that sort to him, without bringing him some remedy for his mortal passions, for which cause, all in trembling, he said. Fair friend, what demand ye? If it may so like you my Lord, quoth she, I have brought other garments for ye. Much rather would I, said the King, that you had brought some comfort to my heart, which at this present is left naked and despoiled of all pleasure. As how my good Lord? answered the damosel. Thus quoth he. When first I arrived in this Country, I was free from all passions, and doubled nothing, but of adventures that might happen to knights errant: but now (I know not in what sort) entering this Court, by some one of your Ladies, have I received a deadly wound, for which if you (fair damosel) know how to give me any remedy, your recompense shall be so good, as you shall repute yourself beholding to me. Certes, quoth she, I should imagine myself happy, by doing service to so high a parsonage, and so good a Knight as you are, if I could tell wherein. If you will promise me said the King, as you are a loyal damosel, not to discover me but where it is requisite, I shall tell ye. Say hold●●● your pleasure, answered Darioletta, for by me (without your liking, it shall not be known to any. damosel and my friend, quoth he, I give ye to understand, that at what time I beheld the excellent beauty of Elisena your Mistress. I became extremely tormented with her love, and in such sort, as I cannot excuse myself from death if I find not remedy for my grief the sooner. Darioletta (who knew thoroughly the mind of the Princess) hearing what the King had said, returned him this answer. My Lord, if you will assure me by the faith of a King, which before all other things ought to be kept, as a person most bounden to virtue, and as a loyal Knight, who ought (as is said) to suffer much, for maintenance of right and equity, that you will take to Wife my Lady Elisena when time shall serve: right soon will I bring ye to the place, where not only your heart shallbe satisfied but hers likewise, who (it may be) is in as much or more thought and dolour, than your are, by reason of the new anguish that toucheth her thorough the self same means. But if you do not (my Lord) what I have said, you shall not there recover her, nor shall I have other cause then to think, that your words proceeded from no loyal heart, nor to credit any thing you say hereafter. The King whom love had already deprived of liberty, to unite himself with Elisena, (to the end that he might be adorned with the great and gracious fruit, which afterward happened, as shallbe receited unto ye), took his Sword, and setting his right hand on the Cross thereof, said these words. I swear by this cross, and on this Sword, wherewith I received the order of Knighthood, to do what you (fair damosel) shall command me, at all times, and whensoever your mistress Elisena shallbe thereto advised. Be you then frolic and merry, answered Darioletta, for I shall likewise accomplish what I have promised. And at that instant she returned to the Princess, declaring to her what she had concluded with King Perion, wherewith the amorous Lady was so pleased, as she had utterly lost her former countenance, and incesfanty embracing Darioletta, thus demanded. My dear friend, when will the hour come, that I shall hold between mine arms, my Lord whom thou hast given me? I shall tell ye answered the damosel, you know that in the Chamber where King Perion lodgeth, there is a door on the Garden side, which your Father hath sundry times used for his recreation, and which at this present is covered with the cloth of Arras, but I have the key thereof: wherefore at night when every one is at rest, we may easily there enter unseen of any, and when needful time of return cometh, myself will call ye. When Elisena heard this devise, she was highly contented therewith, yet breathing forth a sigh, she said. Alas my faithful friend, how shall we bring this to pass? seeing my father is determined to lodge with King Perion: and if he perceive us, we shallbe both in very great danger. Refer that doubt to me, answered Darioletta, and I shall easily provide for this matter: whereupon for this time they broke off conference, because the Tables were covered for Supper. And in like manner as the feasting began in the morning, so now it continued, till the Tables being voided, each one prepared himself to rest. now a little before, Darioletta went to king perion's Squire, and thus said to him. Gentle Squire and my friend, I pray ye tell me in good faith, whether you be a Gentleman or no. Why ask ye? answered the Squire. For the desire I have, said the damosel, to know one thing of you, which I entreat ye (by the faith you own to God and to the King your Master) not to hide from me. By Saint Mary▪ quoth he, I will tell you what you please to ask, provided, that it be not to the damage of my Lord. Herein, said the damosel will I consent with ye, for I would not demand any thing of you that should give him displeasure, nor were it reasonable that you should acquaint me with any such matter: but I desire to know, who is the Lady he loveth most perfectly. The King my Master, quoth the Squire, loveth all in general, and I assure ye, that I know no one, to whom he beareth such affection as you speak off.  
While they were thus talking, the King Garinter came, who seeing Darioletta conferring with king perion's Squire, demanded what we she had to do with the Gentleman? In soothe my Lord quoth she, he tells me that the king his Master is wont to lie alone, and therefore I think he loveth not to have any company. When Garinter understood that, he went presently to king Perion, saying. My noble Brother, there are certain affairs suddenly be fallen me, and likewise I must rise somewhat early in the morning, which hath made me think, that (not to trouble you) the best way is, that I break company from lodging with ye. My Lord, answered king Perion, do as shall seem best to your liking. This answer appeared to king Garinter, conformable with that the damosel had said, wherefore right soon he commanded his bed to be fetched from king perion's Chamber. When Darioletta heard thereof she imagmed their affairs would fall out the better, and therefore returned to Elisena, acquainting her with all that had passed between the two kings. In good faith quoth she, I now believe, that seeing God hath granted so good a beginning, our enterprise, which at this present seemeth a great sin, will hereafter redound to his service: but tell me what we shall do? for the great joy which I have, hath taken from me the most healthful part of my judgement. Madame, said Darioletta, this night will we execute what we have determined, seeing the door (whereof you know) is certainly open. To myself I keep it, answered Elisena, and to you only I commit the charge, to provide when the hour shall permit: and so they remained attending for the favourable time.   

CHAP. II. ¶ How the Princess Elisena and her damosel Darioletta, went to the Chamber where King Perion was lodged.  
THe time being come, when each one most commonly betake themselves to rest: Darioletta (who for the contentment of her Mistress, had used extreme diligence) came and told her. Madame, now is the time to finish our enterprise, then let us go if you please. When Elisena heard what she said, you must think she gave no occasion to be reproved with slothfulness: but hastily arose, and without tarrying, casting only a mantle about her shoulders, went forward, and afterward they both entered the Garden. The time was then calm and gracious, the Moon fair and splendent, giving clear light to the two Ladies: but surely the one had more cause of content then the other, who gladly would have tasted this good hap, or such an other for herself, if she could any way have compassed the mean, and so much she gave in outward appearance, as Elisena perceived well, that she wanted but the executor to perform the same: for Darioletta feeling in her spirit, the ease at hand which she should receive whom she conducted, could not but very pleasantly jest and dally with her Mistress, breaking many a bitter sigh among, as though she were to participate in elisena's future good fortune, to whom she said. Alas Madame, how happy is the Prince, by whom this night you shall receive such pleasure? You say true, answered Elisena, but what? think you not that Fortune is as favourable to me, as to him? for if I be fair, is not he one of the most perfect men that hath been heard off, either in parsonage, good grace or hardiness? assure thyself, Darioletta my friend, that I imagine myself so happy, sa I think it is impossible for me to be more, and therefore let us make haste I pray thee. These words she uttered with such affection, that she trembled like the little leaf on the high tree, and as she ended those speeches, they arrived at the Chamber door where king Perion was lodged: who (for the strangeness of this new amorous flame, as also the hope he had in Darioletta) had not as yet taken any rest. Nevertheless, being at this instant weary with travail, and overcome with sleep: began (even as they opened the door) to slumber, and dreamt that one entered his Chamber at a false door, without knowledge who it should be: but he thought that he thrust his hands into his sides, and rend forth his heart, afterward he saw him throw it into the River, when the King said. Wherefore commit ye such cruelty? This is nothing at all, answered he that did this outrage, for with you shall remain an other heart, which I must take from ye against my will. In great fear he suddenly awaked, and making the sign of the Cross, commended himself to God. Now had the Ladies opened the door and entered the Chamber, wherefore he hearing the noise, suspected some treason, especially by reason of his fearful dream, and lifting up his head: beheld thorough the Curtains the door open whereof he knew nothing, and afterward by the light of the Moon, he saw the shadow of the Ladies that were entered. For this cause, in fear he started out of bed, took his Sword, and went to the place where he had seen them: but when Darioletta saw him so affrighted, she spoke to him in this manner. What shall be done here? Do you my Lord draw arms against us, that come to you with so slender defence? The king who quickly knew them, especially Elisena whom he so much desired, threw his Sword to the ground, and casting a mantle about him which lay near at hand: in great affection he came to her whom he loved better than himself, kissing, embracing and showing the best countenance could be devised, which Darioletta seeing, as one jealous and envious of such favour, said to Elisena, Now are you somewhat better contented, for in my judgement, although till this time you defended yourself from many, and he likewise hath withstood sundry assaults: notwithstanding at this present, neither the one or other of you hath force or mean, which way any longer to warrant or defend yourselves. As thus she spoke, she looked where the King had thrown his Sword, which she took up, as a witness of the oath and promise he made her, concerning the future marriage of Elisena and himself: then shutting the door after her, she went into the Garden, and so the King remained alone with his fair friend, whom (after many amorous embracings, infinite kissings, and execution of delights) he beheld, verily persuading himself, that all the beauty of the World was in her, reputing himself much more than happy, that the heavens had allowed him so good an adventure. See now how it chanced to this Princess, that for so long time, in the chiefest flower of her youth, being requested by so many mighty Princes and great Lords, she had withstood all, to remain in the liberty of a Maiden: now won in less space than one day, and at such time as her fancy (in her own thinking) was farthest off from such matters.  
Thus Love breaking the strong bands of her holy and chaste life, caused a sudden alteration of her purpose, making her soon after, of a fair virgin, a fair woman: serving for example to many other, who assaying to withdraw their thoughts from worldly things, and despising the great beauty wherewith nature hath endowed them, and tender youth, which maketh them ignorant of the pleasures and delights in their Father's Courts ' whereof sometime they might have tasted: yield themselves (for salvation of their souls) into poor and religious houses, thereto in all obedience offering their free will, vowing themselves to the subjection of others, hoping to pass their time without any renown or glory of this world. Certes such Ladies, aught with great solicitude to stop their ears, close their eyes, and give themselves to continual devout contemplations and prayers, accepting them as their true and singular pastimes, as to such they are: and above all, they should exempt themselves from sight of Parents, neighbours & friends, because that oftentimes the talk and frequenting of such, procureth a change of their holy and chaste will. And not without cause have I made this little discourse, for it is to the end that it happen not to them, as it did unto the fair Princess Elisena, who so long laboured in thought to preserve herself: yet notwithstanding in one only moment, seeing the beauty and good grace of King Perion, changed her will in such sort, as without the advise and discretion of Darioletta, who would cover the honour of her Mistress under the mantle of marriage: you may see she was at the point to fall, into the very lowest part of all dishonour. As it hath happened to many other, of whom hath commonly been heard speech: who not keeping themselves from what I have said before, have been taken bad enough, and taken will be, if they admit no better foresight.  
Now then are these two lovers in their solace, Elisena demanding of the King, if his departure should be shortly or no. Wherefore Madame do you ask? said King Perion. Because, quoth she, this happy fortune, that with so great delight hath given ease to our affectionate desires; doth threaten me already with extreme anguish and sorrow, which by your absence I shall receive, and fear it will rather cause my sudden death, then long life. Have no doubt thereof said the King, for although my body be separated from your presence, my heart for ever shall remain with ye, which shall give strength to us both, to you to suffer, and to me by my speedy return. These two contented lovers are thus devising, when she that had been the cause of their meeting (seeing it was time to call her mistress, who by this pleasure forget herself in her lovers arms) entered the Chamber, and speaking somewhat loud said. Madame, I know that heretofore you thought my company more agreeable than you do at this present: but it is needful that you arise, and let us go, for the time calleth us. When the King heard her, knowing that perforce it must be so, he prayed Darioletta to walk into the Garden, and to bring him word in what corner the wind sat: in mean while he took his amorous congee, which such reciprocal pleasure, as you that love may easily judge, then sweetly kissing her, he said. I assure you Madame, that for your sake I will stay longer in this Country than you imagine, therefore I pray ye be not unmindful of this place. So arose. Elisena, and went unto her Chamber with Darioletta, leaving the King alone, not a little contended with his new acquaintance: but dreading his dream, as you have heard, and willing to know what it might signify, he becane desirous to return to his own Country, where as then were good store of Philosophers, that were well seen in those Sciences: himself likewise in former times took great pleasure therein, and understood sundry rules thereof. Nevertheless, he sojourned ten days with King Garinter, after his sporting with Elisena, who never a night failed to visit her lovely haunt. The ten days being spent, King Perion (forcing his will and notwithstanding the tears and entreaties of Elisena which were excessive) resolved to depart, and therefore took his leave of the Court: but as he would have mounted on horseback▪ he perceived that he wanted his good Sword, whereat he became somewhat offended, because it was one of the best, and fairest in the world, yet durst he not demand it, fearing lest the love of him and Elisena should thereby be discovered, or King Garinter angry with them that visited his chamber, In these thoughts, accompanied with infinite regrets, without longer stay, he took his way toward Gaul: albeit before his departure, Darioletta came and entreated him, to be mindful of the great grief wherein he left his Elisena, and of the solemn promise he had made her. Alas my dear friend, said the King, I pray ye to assure her on my part, that she shall have no cause of offence, and that right soon I mean to fee her, in mean while, I commend her to you as mine own proper heart. Then taking from his finger a King, semblable to an other that he had, he sent it to the desolate lover, entreating her earnestly (for his sake) to give it her. This present did no whit lessen her great grief, but increase it, so that if she had not been comforted by Darioletta, without doubt she had then finished her days: but so well she persuaded her to take good hope, that by the allegations she laid before her of dangerous occurrences, she came somewhat better to herself, and learned thence forward more smoothly to dissemble her sorrow, till she felt herself great with Child, by means whereof, she not only lost the taste of her food, but also the pleasure of rest, and the fair colour of her countenance.  
Now on the highest step of mishap was her sorrow set, and not without cause, for in that time was there an inviolable law, that any woman or maiden, of what quality or estate soever, offending in such sort, could no way excuse herself from death. This sharp & cruel custom, endured till the coming of the virtuous King Arthur, the best Prince that ever reigned in that country: which he revoked at the time, as he killed Floian in battle before the Gates of Paris. But many other Kings were between him and Garinter, who maintained that law, and for this cause the sorrowful Lady could not be absolved by ignorance thereof: albeit that by the oaths and promises of King Perion on his Sword, God would remit the offence, yet knew she not how to excuse her fault to the world, because it was done so secretly as you have heard. See here the distress wherein King Perion left his Elisena, which gladly she would give him to understand if possible she could: but it might not be, for she knew the promptitude of this young King, that took no rest in any place where he came, nor was his heart satisfied, except in this, with following arms, as also seeking strange and hazardous adventures, and therefore he was the harder to be found, Thus despairing of this succour, she thought there was no remedy for her life, for which she made not so much moan, as the loss of the sight of her true friend and only Lord. But at that instant the great and puissant maker of all things, by whose permission this act was appointed to his service, inspired Darioletta with such counsel, as she only should remedy these occurrences, in such sort as you shall presently understand.  
In the Palace of King Garinter, there was a Chamber vault separated from the rest, near to which was a river, whereto one might easily descend by a little Iron door, this Chamber (by the advise of Darioletta) did Elisena request of her father, as well for her ease, as to continue her accustomed solitary life, and would have none other companion than Darioletta, who (as you have heard) knew the occasion of her dolorous griefs. This request she lightly obtained, the King thinking his daughter's intent to be as she feigned, and hereupon was the Key of the Iron door given to Darioletta, to open when it pleased Elisena to recreate herself on the water. By this mean had she a place proper to her affairs, and so was in better rest and assurance then before: for well was she advised, that in this place more commodiously than any other, might she provide to escape without danger. Wherefore being there one day alone with her damosel, they fell in conference, and she required council, what should be done with the fruit that she travailed withal, What? answered Darioletta: marry it must suffer to redeem you. Ah poor maidenly mother, said Elisena, how can I consent to the death of the creature, begotten by the only man of the world whom most I love? Offend not yourself, quoth Darioletta, for if you should die, hardly would it be permitted after you to live, In sooth, said Elisena, although I die being culpable, it were no reason the little innocent should suffer. Leave we this talk, answered Darioletta, seeing it were great folly to hazard the safety of that, which hereafter may be the only cause of your loss, and your friend likewise: for well you know, that if you be discovered, you shall die, and the infant shall not live, and you dying, no longer can he live that so dearly loveth you So shall you alone cause the death of all three, where contrariwise, if you escape the peril, the time will come, when you may have together children enough, which will make you forget the affection you bore to this first. And as this damosel was thus inspired, so would she before hand seek to prevent the inconvenience, in this manner. She got four little boards, of such largeness as was necessary, to make a Chest wherein to put the infant, with the clothes & the sword which she kept, then did she glue them together in such sort, as the water should have no place to enter. This being done and made fit, she put it under the bed, without declaring any thing thereof to Elisena, until the time of Childe-birthe approached, and then Darioletta said. What think ye Madame this little coffer is made for? In good faith I know not, quoth she. This shallbe to serve us, said the damosel, when we have need. Believe me answered Elisena weeping, but little do I care for any thing that may happen, for I feel myself too near the loss of my good, and all my joy. Very soon after, the Princess felt the anguish of travail, which was to her very strange and troublesome, oppressing her heart with sundry bitter passions: yet notwithstanding all her yrk some plunges, poor soul she durst not but be silent, greatly fearing lest she should be heard. Her agonies thus redoubling, the most mighty (without danger of her person) gave her in deliverance a fair Son, which the damosel received, and as she held it, it seemed to her of wonderful feature, and happy would she have reputed him, had he not been borne to hard fortune, whereto Darioletta was constrained to send him, for the redemption of the sorrowful mother, and therefore she deferred it not. But even as before was concluded, she wrapped the infant in rich clothes, and afterward brought it with the coffer to Elisena: which when the good Lady saw, she demanded what she would do therewith. Madame, quoth she, herein shall your little Son be put, then will I send it forth on the water, and if it please God, he may escape and live. Alas my sweet infant, said Elisena how full of danger is thy destiny? In mean while, Darioletta took ink and parchment, and writ therein these words, This is Amadis without time, Son to a King: by these words without time, she meant, that she thought his death to be near at hand, and the name of Amadis was of great reverence in that Country, because of a Saint there so called, to whom this little infant was recommended. The letter being written and sealed, was covered and wrapped in wax, and then with a little golden Chain fastened about the Child's neck, with the Ring that King Perion sent Elisena at his departure. Each thing thus appointed, Darioletta came to the woeful mother, and in her sight put the Child into the Chest, laying by him the King his Father's Sword, which he threw on the ground the first night he came to Elisena, and this the cause wherefore the damosel had so well kept it: then after the Mother had kissed her Son as her last farewell, the coffer was made fast very arteficiallye, and Darioletta opening the iron door, commending the babe to the heavenly protection, she set it on the Water, the course whereof being very speedy, full soon carried the coffer into the Sea, which was less than half a mile from the place.  
Now began the break of day to appear, and the little infant followed his fortune, now thrown here, then there, according as the boisterous waves pleased: but by the will of the highest, who (when he pleaseth) makes impossibilities easy, caused it so to fall out, that at the same time as this was done, a Scottish Ship sailed on the Sea, wherein was a Gentleman named Gandales, who from little Britain sailed with his wife into Scotland, she having been lately delivered of a Son called Gandalin. The morning was both calm and clear, wherefore Gandales might easily perceive the Chest floating on the waves, which he presently sent out for, thinking it to be some matter of great value: then the Mariners casting forth a Skiffe, made toward the coffer and took it up: when they had brought it to Gandales, he got open the cover, and beholding the goodly Infant within, as also the rich clothes wherein it was wrapped, he suspected that it came from no mean place, as he gathered by the King and the good Sword. So taking it in his arms, he was filled with such compassion, as he began to curse the mother thereof, who through fear had forsaken so cruelly such a beautiful creature: and carefully did he cause all things to be kept which he found in the coffer, desiring his Wife, that this infant might be nourished as his own Son. She was herewith very well contented, & so the two children were equally fostered together, for never had young Amadis sucked the teat, but to soon as it was given him by his new Nurse, he made no refusal thereof, but being very thirsty sucked heartily, whereat Gandales and his wife were exceeding glad. Now had they the time so favourable, as shortly they landed in Scotland, near to a City named Antailias, and soon after they came to their own Country, where little Gandalin, and the Child found in the sea were nourished together. And because Gandales forbade his servants to use any speech of his good hap, requesting the like of the Mariners, to whom the ship belonged, and were to sail else where: the two children were esteemed brethren by such as were ignorant of their fortune.   

CHAP III. ¶ How King Perion parting from little Britain, travailed on his journey, having his heart filled with grief and melancholy.  
KIng Perion being on his way toward Gaul, as already hath been recited, entered into marvelous melancholy, as well for the grief wherein he had left his Elisena, to whom in his heart he wished well: as also for his doubtful dream, being in such sort as you have heard. So long road he in this heaviness, till he arrived in his country, and soon after he sent for all his great Lords, as also the Prelates of his Realm, giving them express charge, to bring with them the most learned Clerks in their Countries, and this he did, to the end they might expound his Dream. When his vassals had made known his will, not only those he sent for, but many other came to the court, showing the desire they had to see him, and their readiness to obey his command: for they did so love and reverence him, as oftentimes (being fearful to lose him) they were for him in very great grief and sorrow, thinking on the dangerous perils, that in chivalry (to win honour) he hazarded himself, so that they would more gladly have had him daily with them, which could not be, because his heart was discontented, till by arms he had brought the greatest adventures to end:  
The Lords and Princes thus assembled, the King conferred with them on the estate and affairs of the Realm, but it was with so sad countenance as could be: for the occasion of his Dream made him so pensive, as his Subjects (being abashed thereat) were in marvelous doubts, notwithstanding, after he had given them to understand his will, and appointed all requisite matters in order, he gave them leave to depart, sending each one home ag●●●● to his house, only staying with him three Astrologers ●e●●ted the most skilful in those actions, and therefore he made choice of them. These men he called into his Chapel, there causing them solemnly to swear and promise, that without ●●●e of any thing, how dangerous soever it were, they should interpret to their uttermost, and truly express what he would declare to them, whereupon he told them his dream, as hath been aleady before rehearsed: then one of them being named Vngan the Piccard, the most expert of them all, thus answered. My Lord, dreams are vain things, and for such aught to be esteemed: notwithstanding, seeing it is your pleasure that some account should be made of yours, give us some time to consider thereon. It liketh me well, said the King, within twelve days look that you make me answer. But to the end they should not disguise or conceal the truth from him, he caused them to be separated, so that during the time agreed upon, they might neither see or speak together: wherefore to their uttermost they travailed in what they had promised the King, so that the day being come, when they should render an account of their labour, he first took Albert of champaign aside, and said to him. Thou knowest how thou hast sworn and promised, to tell me what thou hast found by thy skill. Sir, answered Albert, let then the rest be called into your presence, for before them will I tell ye. Well hast thou advised, said the King: whereupon they were sent for, afterward Albert thus began. My opinion is, my Lord, that the closed Chamber, and him whom you saw enter by the secret door, signifieth this Realm which is close and well guarded: notwithstanding by some right thereto, some one shall come to take it from you. And like as he thrust his hands into your sides, renting from thence your heart, and afterward threw it into the River: even so shall your Towns and Castles both more and less, be privily stolen from you, and put into his hand from whom you shall not easily recover them. And what meaneth the other heart, said the King, which I dreamt should remain with me, and yet he said, that some after I should lose it, against the will of him that took the first from me? It seemeth by this, answered Albert, that some other shall invade your Country as the first did, yet constrained more by force of an other that commanded him to do so, then by any will thereto in himself: thus see ye (my Lord) all that I can tell ye. Now, said the King to the second named Antalles tell us your advise. Me thinks Sir, quoth he, that Albert hath very well said, and I am of his opinion, except in this, (for aught I can learn, & as the cause showeth me) that what he saith shall happen, is already effected, and by the person that most loveth ye: notwithstanding I am greatly amazed thereat, seeing there is not as yet any part of your Realm lost, and if you do lose any thing hereafter, it must be by such an one as loveth ye dearly. When the King heard this, he nodded his head, for it seemed to him, that he came near the mark: but Vngan the Piccard, who knew much more than the other, fell into a laughter, which he was seldom wont to do, because he was a man very sad and melancholy, yet (by chance) the King perceived it, wherefore he said. Master Vngan my friend, now remaineth none but you, say boldly what you have gathered. My Lord, quoth he, peradventure I have seen into things, which is not necessary to be known to any other than yourself, and therefore let these give place a while if you please. At these words they withdrew themselves, leaving the King and Vngan alone, who thus spoke.  
If your Majesty saw me ere while to laugh, it was at one word which little you think on, yet it is true, and will ye know what? It was that which Antalles said, that what he found by your dream was already happened, and by the person that bes●e loveth ye: Now shall I reu●ale what you keep in secret, and think that no one knows but yourself. You love (my Lord) in such a place, where you have already accomplished your will, and she whom you love is surpassing fair, than told he all the gests and fashions of her, as if she had been there present. But as for the Chamber you found shut, you know (Sir) full well what if meaneth, and how she whom you love, desirous to deliver her heart and yours from grief and sadness: came to ye, entering your chamber by the door that was hid from you. The hands that opened your sides, is the conjunction of you twain: then the heart taken from ye, showeth that she hath by you a Son or a Daughter. Now tell me said the King, what meaneth that casting thereof into the River? My Lord, quoth he, that nothing concerneth you, therefore never labour for further knowledge thereof. Yet would I, said the King, feign understand it, and therefore fear not to tell me for any harm that may happen. Seeing you will needs have it, answered Vngan, I beseech ye Sir assure me while you live, for any thing that I shall reveal, you will not be displeased with her who loveth you so loyally. That promise do I faithfully make thee, said the King. In good sooth Sir, quoth Vngan, that heart that you saw thrown into the water, is the first infant she shall have by you, who must of necessity be forsaken. And the other, said the King, that shall remain with me, what meaneth that? You may, answered Vngan, understand by the one, the design of the other, which is, that she shall conceive an other child, who shallbe carried away against the will of her, that caused the loss of the first. Thou hast told me strange things, said the King, and would God the misfortune of my Children were not so true, as what thou hast told me concerning the Lady I love. For things ordained and appointed by the highest, answered Vngan, none knoweth how to gainsay or remedy, and therefore men of wisdom should neither be sad or rejoice at them, because oftentimes the Lord disposeth matters beyond the capacity of men, and far otherwise then they expect. For this cause my Lord, forgetting all that I have said, and which you have been so curious to underdstand: refer all things to God, desiring him in these your affairs and all other, to limit the end of them to his honour and glory, and thus (in mine opinion) you ought to set down your rest. The King was highly contented with Vngan, and so esteemed of him, that from thence forward he had him near his person, by means whereof he received many great favours. Now it happened, that at that instant as the King parted from the Philosophers, a damosel presented herself before him, right costly in garments and fair of beauty, thus speaking. Understand King Perion, that when thou recoverest thy loss, the Kingdom of Ireland shall lose her flower. So giving her Palfrey the bridle, and the King not able to stay her, she road away: these words made the good Prince more sad and pensive than he was before.  
For this time the Author leaveth this purpose, and returneth to speak of the infant, that Gandales caused to be nourished, whom he made be called the Gentleman of the Sea, Now was he curiously entertained, wherefore in short time he grew and became so fair, that all which beheld him marveled thereat, but one day among other it happened, that Gandales road to sport himself in the fields, arming himself as became a good Knight: for he had daily accompanied the King Languines, at such time as he searched after adventures, and albeit the King discontinued Arms, yet Gandales would oftentimes exercise himself, and as he road, he met with a damosel that thus spoke to him. Ah Gandales, if many great personages were advertised of what I know certainly, I assure thee they would cause thee to lose thy head. Wherefore? quoth he. Because, said the damosel, thou nourishest their death in thy house. The knight know not the Woman that thus talked with him, but you must understand, how she was the same that said to King Perion, that when he recovered his loss, the Kingdom of Ireland should lose her flower, yet notwithstanding he was far from that matter, because he knew not whereof she spoke, and therefore thus replied. For God's sake (damosel) I pray ye tell me, on what occasion you use these speeches. Believe me Gandales, quoth she, I have told thee nothing but truth. At these words she departed from him, leaving him very sad & pensive: yet long he did not continue in these thoughts but he saw her return again, in great haste, thus crying and calling. Ah Gandales, for God's sake secure me: than Gandales turning about beheld a Knight follow her with his Sword drawn, wherefore he gave his horse the spurs to meet him, and placed himself for defence of the damosel, then coming to him that pursued her, he said. Stay thou bade advised Knight. what moveth thee thus treacherously to outrage Ladies? What now? answered that other, dost thou hope to save her, who by trumpery hath made me lose both body and soul? That meddle not I withal, said Gandales, but I will defend her to my power, well knewing that Ladies ought not to be corrected in this manner, albeit they did deserve it, We shall presently see that answered the Knight: and so galloped to the place from whence he came, which was a little thicket of trees, where stayed a very beautiful Lady, who when she saw him return, came forth, bringing him a shield and a strong Lance, which he took and without longer tarriance, returned to his enemy, Gandales being a stern Knight, would not refuse him: whereupon they met together in such sort as their Lances were broken on their Shields, and they with their Horses cast to the ground, yet quickly did they recover footing when began between them a marvelous combat, which worse would have been, but that she which desired secure of Gandales, stepped between them, saying. Stay Gentlemen fight no more. At these words, the Knight who before pursued her, went back, then said the damosel to him. Come now and ask pardon of me. Most willingly, answered the Knight, then throwing his Sword and shield down, came and humbled himself on both his knees before her, whereat Gandales was greatly amazed, afterward the Damosel said to the knight. Go command the Lady under the trees, that she get her away immediately, unless thou halt take her head from her shoulders. To this charge the Knight yielded himself obedient, and to her whom he loved more than himself (by sudden change from love to hatred) became and angrily said. Traitorous woman, I know not how I shall defend myself from killing thee presently. Well perceived the poor Lady, that her friend was enchanted, and that contestation would nothing at all profit her: wherefore incontinent she mounted on her Palfrey, and road away, making the most grievous sorrow that ever was heard, and there remained she whom Gandales had defended, speaking to him in this manner. You have (Sir) done so much for me, as I shall be beholding to you while I live, and now you may depart at your pleasure: for if the Knight offended me, I have pardoned him which all my heart. As touching your pardon, answered Gandales, I have nothing to do therewith: for myself, I will end the Combat, or he shall hold himself vanquished. It behoveth that you acquit him, said the damosel, seeing that if you were the best Knight in the world, easily can I make him overcome ye. Do therein what you can, replied Gandales, but I will not acquit him, except you first declare to me, wherefore (even now) you said, that I kept the death of many people in my house. Then will I rather tell ye, quoth she, because I love you both: he as mine own Soul, & you as my defender, albeit constraint cannot make me do it: so taking him aside, she said. You shall swear to me as a loyal Knight, that no other shall know it by you, until such time as I command it: hereof he made her faithful promise. Know then, said the damosel, that he whom you found in the Sea, shall one day be the flower of chivalry, and shall cause the very strongest to stoop, he shall enterprise, and with honour finish what other shall fail off: and such deeds of arms shall he do, as no one thinks can be begun or ended by the strength of one man. The proud shall he make humble and gracious, being cruel to the pitiless, as also benign and amiable to the debonair: this Knight most loyally will maintain love, and shall affect in place answerable to his magnanimity. Moreover, I assure thee Gandales, that he is the Son of a King, and (without doubt) all this will happen which I have told thee: but if thou keep it not secret, it may return thee more harm then good, Madame, answered Gandales, I pray ye tell me where I may meet with you hereafter, to confer with you on the affairs of this infant. That must you not know by me, said the damosel, or any other. Yet tell me your name, quoth Gandales, if so it be your pleasure. By the faith you bear to the thing you most love in the world, replied she, you conjure me so, as you shall know it: albeit the thing that most I love, is he that wisheth me least good, and would you know what he is: it is the Knight against whom ere while you combated: notwithstanding, I will not leave to entreat him at my pleasure, without he being able to remedy himself. My name is Vrganda the unknown: and to the end you may remember me an other time, behold me well at this present. At that instant, she who showed herself to Gandales fair, young and fresh, as one of eighteen years, became so old and over spent, as he marveled how she could sit on her horse, if then he was stricken into admiration, you may judge. But when she had been a pretty while in that state, she took out of a little bottle (which she carried) a certain unguent, wherewith she rubbed her face, and right soon recovered her former countenance, saying to Gandales. What judge ye now Sir? think ye to find me hereafter against my will, using all the diligence you can devise? never therefore put yourself to such pain: for when all living creatures go about it, if I list, they shall lose their labour. In good faith Madame, answered Gandales, I now make no doubt thereof, yet I beseech ye to be mindful of the Gentleman, who is forsaken of all but myself. Do not you trouble yourself therewith, said Vrganda, this forsaking will be a recovering of much more. My love to him is greater than you can imagine, being she that shortly intends to receive by him two aids, which no other can give me. In recompense whereof, I will give him two likewise, wherewith he shall think himself highly satisfied. Let this suffice ye for this time, because of necessity I must be gone: advising ye, that you shall see me again sooner than you think for. At these words the damosel departed, and Gandales. who had not all this while regarded the Knight against whom he fought, seeing him now bore headed, reputed him one of the goodliest Gentlemen that ever he had seen: who after he had taken up his Shield, and laced on his helmet, followed the damosel, wherefore for this time we will let them go, continuing what happened to Gandales.  
Vrganda being departed, he returned toward his castle, meeting by the way with the Lady, whom Vrganda had caused to be rhased from her friend, and this sorrowful woman was hard by a Fountain, where she wept and lamented very bitterly: when she espied him that came toward her, she easily knew him, wherefore she thus spoke. Is it possible, Sir Knight, that the wicked creature whom you succoured, hath done so much as to let you live? Wicked she is not, answered Gandales, but wise and virtuous: and if you be otherwise, I will make ye deny these foolish words. Ah God, said the Lady: how can the villain deceive every one? How hath she deceived you? replied Gandales. Alas, quoth the Lady, she hath taken from me the fair Knight that should be mine: and so may I well say, seeing he would be more content to be with me, then with her. This is mere folly, answered Gandales, for in mine opinion, both you and she do love without reason. How ever it be, said the Lady, if I can I will be avenged. You travail in vain, quoth he, thinking to injury her that knows it, not only before you execute it but when you imagine it. In sooth answered the Lady, this afternoon ye may be gone when you please: and nevertheless it often happeneth, that those which think they know most by presumption, fall into the greatest dangers. Gandales seeing her so impatient, commending her to God, followed his way, thinking more of the young Gentleman's affairs, than what the Lady had spoken to him. Being come to his Castle, and seeing the little boy come running towards him, he took him up in his arms, and lovingly embracing him, remembered what Vrganda had said to him, which made the tears stand in his eyes with joy, saying within himself. Fair Child, I pray God I may live so long, as to see thee such a one as I hope for. At this time the young Prince was about three years old, who seeing his Lord weep, (as one moved with compassion) he wiped his eyes, which made Gandales imagine great humanity in him: and that as the child grew in age and strength, ●●wered he in will, the better to help him if he had 〈◊〉. Wherefore thence forward, he was very careful of him, ●●uising all means for his best education and compaying continually with his play-fellow Gandalin, he took very great delight in Shooting,  
He being come to the age of six years, King Larguines and his Queen riding through the Country, came to Gandales Castle, where they were royally feasted: but before they there arrived, Gandales being advertised of their coming, caused the young Prince and his companions to be hid in a back Chamber, fearing that in respect of his beauty and good grace, the King would be desirous to take him away with him, or else that the Children would be troublesome to the house. But it fortuned, that the Queen being lodged in one of the highest rooms in the Castle, as she looked forth at a window, which was on that side where the Children were, she espied the young Prince and his play-fellows drawing their bows, and marking him very well, she liked him above all the other, taking great pleasure to behold his countenance, thinking he was Son to the Lord of the house: yet being doubtful, and not seeing any of whom she might ask the question, she thus called to her Ladies. Come and behold the fairest young creature that ever was seen. At these words they all came running, and soon after, the child being dry, left his bow by his companions, going to drink at a conduit pipe which was hard by: in mean while, one of them that was bigger than the Prince, took up his bow to draw it, but Gandalin would not suffer him, whereupon a great strife fell between them, and Gandalin being the weakest, cried out: Gentleman of the Sea, come help me. When the Prince heard him, he left his draft, and ran to him that misused his brother, taking his vow from him, giving him therewith a great stroke over the head, saying: In all evil hour (varlet) dost thou outrage my brother The other not content therewith, came to the Prince, and they fought together: yet he that began the noise was glad to run thence, and by the way met their Governor, who said: Whether runnest thou? Master, quoth he, the Gentleman of the Sea will beat me: then the Governor coming to the Prince, rigorously threatened him, saying. What? are you already so bold to beat your companions? you shallbe talked withal by and by for it. When the Prince heard his threatening, he fell down on his knees, saying. If you will appoint that I shall be beaten, more gladly will I take it, then suffer my brother to be wronged in my presence. With these words the tears trickled down his cheeks, which moved pity in the Governor, wherefore he thus answered. If ever you do so again, I will make ye weep in an other sort. The Queen who had heard and seen all the debate, was greatly abashed wherefore they called the little boy, the Gentleman of the Sea.   

CHAP. four ¶ How King Languines carried away with him the Gentleman of the Sea, and Gandalin the Son of Gandales.  
WHile the Queen thus beheld the Gentleman of the Sea, the King entered her Chamber accompanied with Gandales, of whom she presently demanded if that fair young Son were his. Ye Madame answered Gandales. And (quoth she) why suffer you him to be called the Gentleman of the Sea? Because Madame, said he, that at return of my last voyage into little Britain, he was borne upon the sea Truly quoth she, he resembles you but little: and this was her opinion, because the Prince was excellent fair, & Gandales somewhat hard favoured, yet a most gentle companion. It chanced during these speeches, that the King cast his eye on the little Prince, to whom he seemed no less beautiful than he did to the Queen, wherefore he commanded Gandales to fetch him: for when I go hence (quoth he) I will take him with me, and have him brought up with mine own Son. In soothe my Lord, answered Gandales, he is yet too young to leave his Mother: but having brought him, presented him to the King, who said, Fair Child, will ye go with me to the Court? My Lord, answered the Child, I will go whether you please, if my brother shall go with me. And I, quoth Gandalin, will not tarry here without him. I perceive my Lord, said Gandales, that if you take the one, you must needs have the other, for they will not be separated. I am the better pleased, answered the King: then calling Agraies to him said. My Son, I will that you love these two Gentlemen, as I do their Father. When Gandales saw, that the King would have them away in good earnest, with the tears in his eyes, he thus spoke in his heart. My Child, that so soon beginnest to prove Fortune, now see I thee in the service of them, who one day may (happily) serve thee, if it please God to guide and protect thee, as I shall humbly pray for, and suffer that the words of Vrganda the unknown spoken to me, may prove true: making me so happy, as to live to see the time, of those great marvels promised thee in Arms. The King who noted Gandales, seeing that his eyes were filled with tears, came to comfort him, saying. Believe me, I never thought you had been such a fool, as to weep for a Child. Ah my Lord, answered Gandales, it may be upon greater occasion than you think for, and if it please ye to know the truth, I will presently tell ye here before your Queen. So he told the whole discourse, how he found the Gentleman of the Sea and in what equipage: and he had proceeded with that which Vrganda foretold him, but that he remembered the oath he took. Now my Lord said Gandales, deal for him as you shall please, for (so God help me) according to his beginning, I think him to be issued of great lineage, When the King heard this he esteemed much the better of him, that he had so carefully nourished the child he found, and thus answered. It is great reason (seeing God hath done so much for him, as to preserve him from so great a danger) that now we be diligent in his education, and endow him with abilities when time shall serve. In good faith my Lord, said the Queen, so please you, he shall be mine during his young years and when he comes to man's estate, I will deliver him to serve you. Well Madame, quoth the King, I give him you. Now early on the next morning the King would set forward, wherefore the Queen, not having forgot the gift of her Lord, took with her Gandalin and the young Gentleman of the Sea, whom she commanded to be so carefully attended as her own Son, for she took such pleasure in beholding him, that daily she would have him near her own person, because he had such a cheerful spirit, and so well governed withal, as he was well liked of every one, so that whatsoever he did, passed with general allowance, and no other pastime had he, but in shooting and cherishing dogs for the chase.  
Now doth the Author leave this matter, returning to that which happened to King Perion, and his new friend Elisena. King Perion (as you have already heard) being in Gaul, where he understood by his Philosophers the exposition of his Dream as also what the damosel had told him: That when he recovered his lost, the Kingdom of Ireland should lose her flower: he became more pensive than before, yet could he understand, nothing thereof. As he thus sad spent his days, it chanced that an other damosel entered his Palace, who brought him a letter from Elisena whereby she gave him to know, that King Garinter her father was dead, and she remained alone, and for this cause he should pity her, in that the King of Scots would take her Kingdom from her. For the death of King Garanter was Perion somewhat sorrowful, but yet he comforted himself, by thinking he should go to see his friend, towards whom he had not diminished one jot of his affection, wherefore he quickly dispatched the damosel, saying to her. Return and say to your mistress, that without staying one whole day, I shallbe in short time with her. The damosel well pleased with this answer, returned, and after the King had set his affairs in order, he parted in good equipage to see his Elisena, and journeyed so speedily, as he arrived in little Britain: where he heard news, that King Languines had already gotten all the chief of the Country, except those Cities which Garinter gave to Elisena, who now abode (as he understood) at a place named Arcate, whether he addressed himself. If he were there well received, I leave to your judgements, and she likewise of him whom she loved so much. After the welcoming and feasting of one an other, the King told her that he would now marry her, and for that cause she advertised her kindred and Subjects: which she did with all diligence could be devised, as also with so great contentation as her heart might desire, for herein only consisted the sum of her affections. Which being heard by the King of Scots, and how to accomplish this, King Perion was already arrived with his Sister: he sent immediately for all the noble men of his Realm, to bear him company in doing honour and welcome to the King his brother. At his coming, he was graciously received by King Perion, and after by embrac●uis they hadsaluted each other, and the nuptials likewise thoroughly ended: the Kings determined to return home into their own Countries.  
King Perion travailing toward Gaul with his Queen Elisena, and somewhat weary with tediousness of the way, he would refresh himself along by a River side: and while the tents were erecting, he road softly alone by the water bank, imagining how he might know the truth, whether Elisena had a Child, according as his Philosopher told him in expounding his Dream. But so long continued he in this thought, that riding on without any regard, he came to an Hermitage which was near at hand: wherefore finding himself at a place of devotion, he alighted, tying his Horse to a tree, that he might go in to say his prayers. And entering the Church, he found there a very ancient religious man, who coming to meet him, said, Knight, is it true, that King Perion is married to our kings daughter? Yea verily, answered the King, Praised be God, said the good Hermit, for I know certainly, that she loveth him with all her heart. How can you tell that? replied the King. Even from her own mouth, said the good old man. The King then hoping he should hear of him the thing which he most desired to know, said. I pray ye Father tell me, what you have understood of her and me, for I am King Perion. Truly Sir, answered the wise man, herein should I greatly fault, and justly might she repute me an heretic, if I should manifest what she hath told me under confession: suffice yourself with that I have declared, namely, the true and sincere love she beareth you. But seeing I have met ye in a place so convenient, I will that ye know, what a damosel (in mine opinion very wise,) said to me at the time you came first into this Country: yet spoke she to me so darkly, as I never knew well how to comprehend her words, for she said. That from little Britain should come two great Dragons, that should hold their government in Gaul, and their hearts in great Britain, and from thence they should go to devour the beasts of other Countries: but against some they should be brave and cruel, and against other some humble and gracious, as though they had neither nails or heart. At these words I became very pensive, nor could I ever since learn the signification hereof. Nor did the King at this instant understand them, but was in no less marvel than the Hermit: notwithstanding, no long time after, he found this prophesy to be true. Now the King having commended the holy man to God, returned to his Tents, where he saluted his Queen, yet would he not tell her (as then) any thing of that wherewith his mind was troubled: but dissembled the same till they were in bed, and after their accustomed embracings, the King by an apt mean recounted to her, what his Astrologers had said on his dream, earnestly desiring her to tell him, whether she had any Child by him or no. When the good Lady heard this, she was surprised with shame in such sort, as willingly she could have wished herself dead: and therefore altogether denied the truth, so that at this time the King might not know what he desired. On the morrow they departed thence and arrived in Gaul, where this noble Queen was generally received with great joy. And because that (as it hath been heretofore rehearsed) the King bore her singular affection, he did for her sake stay more in his Realm, than he was wont to do: so that not long after, the Queen brought him a Son, who was named Galaor, and next a daughter called Melicia,.  
But the little Galaor being two years and a half old, it chanced that one day the King his Father, sojourning not far from the Sea side, in one of his Cities named Orangill, standing at a window toward the Garden, where was then the Queen with her Son and Ladies sporting: there entered at a postern door such a horrible Giant, as no man that ever saw him but was exceedingly afraid, bearing on his neck a huge and mighty Mace. When the company of women espied him, some fled among the trees, and other (not to see him) fell on the ground: but the Giant made no reckoning of them, only he came to little Galaor, whom he took in his arms, and in a laughter said. By my faith, the damosel said true. So without doing any thing else, taking away the Child, returned the same way he came: and entering a Brigandine that there stayed for him, departed under sail. In mean while the sorrowful Queen, who saw her son carried away. (forgetting through motherly love the fear of the Giant) followed him very near, hoping to recover her little Galaor: but when she saw him enter the Brigandine, God knows in what anguish she was, for her Son in crying said: Ah help me Mother. Alas she could not, and more strange than death she took it, to see him carried away, whom she loved as her own life: and in this extreme dolour, she remembered her other Son thrown into the Sea, wherefore the woeful mother fell down in a swoon. King Perion her husband, who saw all this in the place where he stood, from whence he could not quickly come to aid the Queen or her Son: at last came to the Queen, finding her in that case, and did so much as he recovered her again. Then began she to make the most grievous move in the World, regreting this new loss, by whom she before hoped to understand of her first: and despairing ever to hear any news of comfort, moved great compassion in all that beheld her. All this while the King laboured to persuade her, whereby at last she reobtained the reason that before was absent, whereupon the King said. Madame, we must thank God for all, and chiefly in this case, for now I evidently see hath happened, the effect of my Dream whereof sometime I told ye: thus is little Galaor the last heart, that must be taken from us against our will. Henceforth therefore fear not to declare, what is become of the first, for considering the estate you then were in, you ought not in reason to be blamed At these words the mournful Mother, forgetting none of the fault committed, told him the misfortune of her first borne Son, entreating him to pardon her, seeing she did it thorough fear of death, according as was the law of the Country. In good faith Madame, answered the King, well may ye assure yourself, that while I live I will not be offended with ye, on your behalf therefore I pray ye, to take their destiny so discreetly as you may: for I trust in God, that seeing it hath pleased him at our beginning, to afford us so little joy and comfort by our children, in time to come he will recompense us with better success, and it may be yet one day, that we shall hear good tidings of them.  
Now leaving this, ye must note, that the Giant who bore away the young Prince, was of the Country of Leon●●. Lord of an Isle named Gandalan, wherein he had two strong places. He was not a bloody man as many other were, but of gentle and peaceable conversation, except when he was offended for in his fury he would do great cruelties. At one instant was the little bark so carried by the Wind, as he arrived in his Country, which he had caused ●o be peopled with Christians, and there he kept a Hermit of most holy life, to whom he went saying. Father take this Child, and nourish him for me, teaching him all that is convenient in a Knight, for I assure ye, he is the Son of a King and a Queen. Ah, said the Hermit, why have ye done such a cruel deed? I will tell ye, answered the Giant. Being minded to go combat with the Giant Albadan, who most unhappily killed my Father, as you know, and at this present forcibly holds from me the Rock of Galteres, which by right appertaineth to me: being thus embarked to execute mine intent, there came a damosel to me, who said. Thou abusest thyself, for what thou goest about, must be done by the Son to King Perion of Gaul, who is much more strong and hardy than thou art. I demanded by her faith, whether she told me true or no. That shalt thou see, quoth she: At what time the two branches of one tree shallbe joined, which at this instant are severed: then did she tell me, where I should find him of whom she spoke, and this is he I give you in guard, even as you love me. By these means remained little Galaor in the holy man's charge, and there he staid so long, till he was of years to receive the order of Knighthood, as hereafter shallbe recited to you.  
At this time reigned in great Britain, a King named Falangris, who dying without Children, left one of his brethren his heir: no less prudent in all affairs, than prompt at arms and Knightly chivalry, being called Lisuart, who married (not long before) with Brisana, daughter to the King of Denmark, the fairest Lady that then was to be found in all the North parts. And albeit she had been requested in marriage by great Princes of the country, notwithstanding for fear of some, the father durst not consent to the other: for which he would provide by choosing one himself, and so married her to the young Prince Lisuart, who for love served him, nor was he ignorant of the virtues harbouring in his gentle heart. Now after the death of Falangris, the Princes of great Britain knowing the right of Lisuart, sent for him to succeed in the Realm: for he being in a strange Country, where by his haughty deeds and chivalry, he was married in so good a place, therefore they dispatched their Ambassadors to him, entreating him to accept the Realm and Subjects of great Britain, and to come to invest himself therein.   

CHAP V. ¶ How King Lisuart sailing by Sea, landed in Scotland, where he was greatly honoured, and well entertained.  
PRince Lisuart understanding his subjects desire for his short return, provided his equipage by Sea, being aided and assisted by the King of Denmark his Father in Law, and afterward set sail toward great Britain. And because he coasted along Scotland, he took landing there, whereof Languines being advertised, came and received him very royally. Now was this new King of great Britain accompanied with the Queen his wife, and a fair Princess their daughter, aged (as is thought) about ten years, named Oriana, one of the fairest creatures that ever was seen: and therefore (during the time of her abode in Denmark,) she was commonly called The only, because her paragon was not to be found in beauty. This young Lady Oriana, being not used to the travail on the Sea, found herself somewhat weary, and her Father fearing a worse mishap, entreated the King of Scotland she might stay with him till he sent for her. Right gladly did King Languines and his Queen accept this charge, wherefore King Lisuart, (without longer stay in Scotland) went to Sea, where weighing anchors & hoisting sails, in short time landed in his own Country, where being arrived, before he could abide in quiet, asin such occasions it often falleth out: certain Rebels were found, whom in time he overmastered, which was the cause he could not so speedily send for his daughter that he left in Scotland.  
In this place the Author leaveth the new King peaceably ruling in great Britain, and returneth to the Gentleman of the Sea, who by this time hath attained the age of twelve years: albeit in stature he seemed past fifteen, and and for his good grace (both of the Queen and the other Ladies) was loved and esteemed more than any other. Now according as hath been already declared, the young Princess Oriana Daughter to King Lisuart, was left with the Queen of Scots to refresh herself, till the King her Father should send for her, and to her did the Queen use all the gracious courtesies could be devised, saying to her withal: Fair Madame, henceforth (so please you) shall the Gentleman of the Sea serve you, and be yours. Which the Princess Oriana willingly accepted, wherefore the young Prince made such an impression of this kindness in his spirit, as during life he meant to serve nor love any other, and therefore foreever bequeathed to her his heart: but so well it came to pass, that this love was mutual and equal between them both. Notwithstanding, the Prince for a while having no knowledge thereof, thought himself unworthy so great good: reputing it a very bold enterprise to think thereon, which was the cause he durst not speak, but show his good will in outward semblance. The young Princess who was of the same mind, and also in like pain, forbore to talk more with him then an other, thereby to avoid all suspicion: but the eyes of the two lovers doing their devoir and office, entercoursed the thing which most they esteemed, and thus covertly they lived, without acquainting each other with this amorous affection. Soon after, this young unknown prince, seeing that to attain the good grace of the Lady he loved, it was necessary he should take Arms, and receive the order of knighthood, he said to himself. If once I were a knight, I would do such exploits as should deserve the favour of my Lady, or die in the attempt. And in this desire, one day finding King Languines at leisure for his request, and coming to him in the garden where he walked, he fell on his knee, using these speeches. My Lord, might it stand with your pleasure, I gladly would receive my knighthood. When the King heard him, seeing his young years, he was greatly abashed, and thus answered. How now Gentleman of the Sea? Do you think yourself already strong enough for such a weighty charge? in soothe it is an easy thing to receive honour: but to maintain it as behoveth (it may be) is more hard than you esteem, so that oftentimes a a right good heart is troubled therewith. For if through fear or cowardice he forsake what he ought to do, more better is death to him, than a shameful life: therefore by mine advise, I would have you yet a while to forbear. The prince not contented with this answer, replied. I will not forego honour, my Lord, through any such fear as it pleaseth you to allege, for if I had not the desire to do all that appertaineth to chivalry, I would not have been so bold to make this request: but seeing by your gracious favour I have been hitherto nourished, most humbly I beseech ye to grant me this petition, that I may receive no occasion of losing your service, to seek else where for obtaining my suit. The king highly esteeming the courage of the youth, and doubting lest he would depart indeed, answered. Assure yourself Gentleman, that I will do it when I see it necessary for ye, in mean while provide your Arms and what else belongeth: Yet tell me (fair Sir) to whom (if I refused) would you go for your order. To King Perion, said the Prince, who is reputed a good and hardy Knight, for he hath married the Sister to your Queen, who maketh me believe that he will not deny me: when I shall let him understand, how she hath nourished me, and that I am her servant. It is true, quoth the King, but for this present have a little patience, and when time serveth, you shallbe honourably Knighted: in mean while he gave charge, that all his needful accoutrements for the cause should be provided.  
Now did the King advertise Gandales hereof, who was so contented therewith, as he soon dispatched a damosel toward the young Prince: by whom he sent the Sword, the King, and the letter covered with ware, which he found in the Chest he took out of the Sea. Such speed made the damosel, as she came to the prince, at what time he was sporting with Oriana and the other Ladies, while the Queen slept. At that instant was he in such a solemn thought of Oriana, as not daring to lift up his eyes to behold her, said within himself. Ah God, why hast thou endued this Lady with such excellent beauty, that unhappy I should suffer so extreme passions by loving her? Ah mine eyes, too high did ye look when ye beheld her, of whom you are not worthy: but if the worst happen, death shall satisfy this ●imeritie, whereto my heart (for her) is humbled. In this thought he was like to fall down, so had he forgotten and overgone himself: when a Page came to him, saying. Gentleman, there is a strange damosel attending without, who hath brought ye certain presents, & would speak with ye. When she (who loved him) heard this message, her heart began to tremble in such sort, as being not able to endure this new ●ame, she called to the Prince, saying. I pray ye stay here, and let the damosel come in, that we may have the sight of what she hath brought: which he did, and the damosel being entered, thus spoke to him. My Lord, your good friend Gandales saluteth you, as the man whom he only loveth, and hath sent ye this King, this ware, and this Sword, which he desireth ye (for his sake) to keep while you live. The Prince having received the presents, ●aid the King and wa● aside, to behold the Sword, which being without a sheath, was wrapped in a fine linen cloth, whereat he greatly marveled: and while he was musing thereon, Oriana took the ware, thinking it to be some other thing, and said. Believe me Gentleman, for my part I would have this ware. You may have it if you please Madame, quoth he, but me thinks this fair King were better for ye. I will have nothing but this ware, said Oriana, and so took it. During these discourses, the King came, who said to the Prince: What think ye of that Sword? My Lord, quoth he, I find it a very fair one, but I marvel wherefore it hath no scabbard. It is said the King, very near fifteen years since it had one: and having so said, he laid it aside, proceeding thus. You would be a Knight, and know not whether you ought be one or no: therefore it is necessary, that you understand what you are, and I to tell you so much as I know. hereupon he declared, how he was found in a Chest on the Sea, with the Sword and the King as you have already heard. I believe my Lord, quoth the Prince, that for your pleasure you use this invention, because the damosel when she entered said: that my good friend Gandales sent me these presents, but I think she failed in her words, and would have said my Father Gandales. Notwithstanding (my Lord) if it be so as you have rehearsed, I am not displeased thereat: except in not knowing of whence I am, nor they me, yet do I think myself a Gentleman, for my heart persuades me of no less. Now therefore it is more necessary that I be Knighted, then before, to the end I may labour to become such a one as may acquire honour and reputation, seeing I have no parents by whom I may be named, not knowing what I am. When the King heard him speak so virtuously, he esteemed much better of him then before, thinking himself, that he could not but be a man of calling and hardy.  
As thus they were devising, a Gentleman came to the King, and said. My Lord, King Perion your brother is come to the Court. The King very glad thereof, departed to receive his Brother, and embracing him, thus spoke. I see my good Brother, you meant to take me unprovided, for little did I think of your so sudden arrival in this Country. Noble brother, answered King Perion, I come to request the aid of my friends, because I have more need of them at this time then ever I had: for Abies' King of Ireland threateneth me with strong war, and is with great puissance entered my Kingdom, so that he and Dagavel his Cousin, have laid very severe siege to me. And which is worst of all, Fortune hath so hardly dealt with me, that certain whom I trusted have forsaken me: and the greatest part of my other friends are overthrown in the skirmishes we have had together, so that now I come to request your succour in this extreme need. Truly Brother, answered Languines, you may be sure thereof, and your misfortune grieveth me not a little: but I will provide therefore so well as I can. Agraies who was newly Knighted, being hot and ready to Arms, having heard the request of his Uncle, and the grant the King his Father had made him of assistance: came and ●●ll on his knee before him, saying. I beseech ye Father let me obtain one boon at your hands The King who loved him as himself, answered. Demand what thou wilt, for it shall not be denied thee. I desire your sufferance, quoth Agraies, that I may go to Gaul to aid the Queen mine Aunt. In good faith, said the King, well content am I, and in good equipage shalt thou go and strongly accompanied. When the Gentleman of the Sea heard this determination, he was more earnest to compass his enterprise then before: and seeing King. Perion was present, he could not glut his eyes with beholding him, only for the good report he had heard of him: for he thought not then of any affinity or parentage, but would rather be Knighted by his hand then any other, in respect of his high and haughty deeds of Arms. And to attain his purpose, he thought best to entreat the Queen, hoping that if she would do so much for him, as to move the King her brother therein, she should not be gainsaid: & for he saw her so sad that he durst not speak to her, he boldly went to Oriana, and setting his knee to the ground, said. I pray ye Madame tell me what causeth the Queen to be so pensive? Oriana beholding the man before her whom she loved in her very soul, albeit neither he or any other knew it: was surprised with such vehemency of love, as she could hardly tell how to dissemble it, yet thus she answered. Gentleman of the Sea and my friend, I will take pain to know, then shall I tell ye with all my heart, seeing it is the first request that ever ye made to me. Madame, quoth he, I know in myself so small deserving toward you, that I account myself unworthy to request any thing of you: but I should think I were happy if I had the mean to obey you, or that it would please you to command me. What? said she, have you so base a mind, & such small estimation of yourself? Madame, answered he, in what sort soever it be, I have no forces at all, but such as have left me in great desire to serve you: for my heart is altogether yours, and can receive nothing but from you. Mine? quoth Oriana, and since when? Since the time it pleased you Madame, replied the Prince, And when was it, quoth she, that it pleased me? At that time, answered the Prince, when the King your Father left you in this Country, if you remember, and when the Queen presented me to you, saying: I give you this Gentleman to serve you, and at that time you accepted me as yours, when you answered, that you were well contented. Then was I given to you, and yours only I repute myself, so that I have no authority over myself. Certes, said Oriana, you took her words to better end, then at that time she meant them: which I take in good part, and am content it shallbe so. No sooner had she thus said, but the Prince was over come with such joy, as he had no power to answer. Oriana perceiving it, made no show thereof, but said she would go to the Queen, to do what he had desired: and returned soon after, telling him, that her grief was for the Queen of Gaul her sister, because the King of Ireland so oppressed her country. So please you Madame, answered the Prince, if I were Knighted, I gladly would go secure her, with your leave. And without my leave, quoth Oriana, will ye not go? Not for death, said he, for without your graious favour, my conquered heart can have no force or virtue in any peril. At these words Oriana smiled, saying. Seeing them you are mine, I grant you to be my Knight, and you shall aid the queens Sister. Most humbly did the Prince give her thanks, telling her, how the King thought it not good to give him the order of Knighthood, but had denied him: yet, quoth he, is King Perion here as you know, at whose hands (so pleased you to entreat it) I would more willingly receive it, then of any other. Nor will I let for that, said she, and the better to compass your desire: I will cause the Princess Mabila to bear me company, for whose sake he will the sooner grant it. So presently she went to her, and told what she and the Gentleman of the Sea had concluded, to attain his Knighthood, and how feign he would have it at King perion's hand, for which cause she entreated her assistance in the suit. Mabila who loved the Prince vary well, thus answered. I assure ye (Sister) there shallbe no want in me, for so well doth the Gentleman deserve, as would make one do much more than this for him, wherefore let him be ready this night in the queens Chapel: then when time shall serve, we will go with our women to accompany him, and I will send for the King mine Uncle (which shallbe somewhat before the break of day) that he may come see me, and he being come to us, you and I will move him in the matter, which I hope he will grant us considering he is a very gracious and affable Prince. This is very well appointed, answered Oriana: wherefore they sent for the Prince and told him all the platform they had laid: who humbly thanking them, would provide all things ready for himself, and therefore departed. Then went he to find Gandalin, making him acquainted with the whole, saying. I pray ye brother, convey mine Armour so closely as you can into the queens Chapel, because I hope this might to receive mine order: and for I must right soon depart hence, I would know if you have any will to bear me company. Believe me, quoth Gandalin, never with my will shall I depart from ye. Of these words was the Prince so glad, that the tears flood in his eyes with joy. Well▪ said he, provide all things ready as I told ye: wherein Gandalin fa●led not, for ere supper he took such order, as all was done unseen of any, and the Prince got him secretly into the Chapel, where he armed himself except the head and hands. So staying there for the Ladies and King Perion, he fell on his knees before the Altar, desiring God to be his aid: not only in conquering such as he should deal withal in Arms, but also in obtaining her, who caused him to endure so many mortal passions. The night being come, and the Queen withdrawn; the Princess Oriana and Mabila with their women, came to the Chapel where the Gentleman of the Sea attended, and Mabila having sent for King Perion, he was no sooner entered but she thus began. My Lord, seeing you have taken so much pains for me as to come hither, I pray you grant Madame Oriana, daughter to King Lisuart, a small request she will make to ye. I would be loath, said the King, to deny her, as well for her Father's honour as her own sake. Oriana arose to thank him, whom when he beheld so fair, he thought all the world could not match her in beauty: thus speaking to her. Madame, doth it please ye to command me any thing? Not command my Lord, quoth she, but entreat ye to give my Gentleman the order of Knighthood: this said she, pointing to him as he kneeled before the Altar. When the King saw him, he wondered at his goodly stature and said to him. My friend, would you receive the order of Knighthood? Yea my good Lord, answered the Prince, may it please you to give it me. In God's name be it done, said the King, who give you grace so well to proceed therein, as he hath bestowed seemly perfection on you. Then putting on his right spur, and dubbing him with the Sword, thus spoke. Now have ye the order appertaining to a Knight, but I would opportunity had served me, to have given it you with greater honour? not withstanding, according to mine opinion of you, I hope you will prove such, as your renown shall supply what wanteth here in performance. Afterward King Perion took leave of the Ladies, who highly thanked him, and then set on his way toward Gaul, commending the new Knight to the heavenly protection: this was the first act, that might bear testimony of these lovers sweet desires. If it seem to the reader, that their purpose was not according to affection, but simple in respect of their vehement passions: I answer, that they ought to excuse their age, likewise it often cometh to pass, that they which think themselves most expert in those pleasing and amorous amoris, have been by this God so strongly bound, and lively attainted: as not only he▪ deprived them of speech, but of judgement also, and it is necessary for such persons to use greater words, than these two who as yet had not learned them. But this new Knight being thoroughly furnished, and ready to his journey by his Lady's consent: would in thanking the company, take a more secret congee of Oriana. And she who for this sudden parting, felt new passions in her heart, yet nevertheless dissembling than: took him by the hand, and walking aside, thus spoke▪ Gentleman of the Sea, you will be gone then, but first I pray ye tell me, whether you be the Son of Gandales or no: for according to the good opinion I have of you, I think ye to be issued of better place. Then rehearsed he all that King Languines had told him, wherein she conceived very great pleasure: which done, they committed each other to God. So departed the Prince from this company, and right soon found Gandalin, who attended for him at the kings lodging door, with the rest of his Arms and his Horse. whereon he mounted, and left the City unseen of any, because as yet it was not day, so road they on till they came into a Forest.  
Now is the greatest part of the day spent, before they would refresh themselves in any place: but hunger constrained them to feed on such viands, as Gandalin had brought with him from the City. During this time, they heard in the wood on their right hand the voice of some one, which seemed to them very doleful, wherefore the prince road presently that way: where he found a Knight dead, and hard by him an other in little better case, for he was so wounded, that he had no hope to live. As for the party that so cried, it was a woman who lay upon the Knight, pressing him so sore, as made his heart to fail him: and which was worst of all, the villainous woman to cause his death the sooner, cruelly thrust her hands into his wounds. But when the wounded Knight espied the Prince, so well as he could he craved secure, saying. Ah gentle Sir, for God's sake suffer me not to be thus murdered by this ribaude. Greatly was the Prince abashed at this wicked dealing, and therefore very roughly thus spoke. Woman withdraw yourself, for you do the thing not beseeming you or your like. She as one ashamed, retired, and the Knightful of anguish fell in a swoon, which made the Prince very desirous to know what he was: but fearing that he had already yielded his breath, quickly alighted, and used such good means as revived him again, when he began to cry. Ah I am dead, good friends bring me to some place where I may have council for my soul. Take courage, answered the Prince, for you shall have what you demand: but I pray ye tell me, what fortone brought ye hither, or where is he that hath thus hardly entreated ye? It is, said the Knight, through this wicked woman, who (albeit I was rich and puissant, yea far much more than she) I made choice, for the good love I bore her, and espoused her as my wife: nevertheless she discourteous creature, forgetting the good and honour I had done her, hath sundry times abandoned her honest regard, namely this night passed with this Knight here dead, whom I having never before seen, by chastise yesterday he came to me: and this last night thus villanouslye abused me, where taking him with the deed, we had a combat together, wherein (as you see) he lost his life. But when this strumpet saw. I had slain him, fearing I would do as much to her: she fell at my feet and desired pardon, whereto I easily condescended, provided, that she offended no more. hereupon, I entreated her to bind up my wounds, but she perceiving how grievously I was hurt, & brought into very weak estate through overmuch loss of my blood, to revenge the adulterous Villains death, she assayed to kill me outright: and to make me languish the more in dying, cruelly she thrust her hands into my wounds, so that well I perceive I cannot long live. Therefore I beseech ye good Sin, help me to an Hermitage which is near at hand, where I shall find some religious man, to comfort me in the agony of my Soul. Such compassion took the Prince on him, as he and Gandalin taking him in their arms, carried him on a horse to the Hermitage: in mean while the wretched woman stole away privily, and a little before, she fearing that her Husband would be revenged on her, sent for help to three of her brethren, who dwelled not far from that place, giving them to understand which way they should come. In her wandering they met with her, and she had no sooner espied them, but she thus cried out. Ah help me good brethren, for héerbefore is a thief, who hath slain this Knight which lieth here, and hath beside so wounded my Husband: as there is no hope of life left in him: let him not therefore escape ye, nor he that is in his company, because the one is as deep in the evil as the other. Such like speeches used this Harlot, that by the death of the Prince and Gandalin, her treason might be covered: therefore that her Husband should not die alone with her will, she showed them the Gentleman of the Sea, even as he returned from the Hermitage where he left the wounded Knight. Héeer-upon the three brethren (too light of belief) galloped toward him, crying: Traitor thou art but dead. You lie villains, answered the Prince, for right well shall I defend myself from such traitors as you are. Bestir thyself then, said the brethren, for thou hast offended us all three, and we all will be revenged on thee if we may. By good hap the Prince had his shield and Lance ready, and his Helmet very well laced, wherefore without any further answer he sharply charged them, and meeting with the first, pierced through both his shield and arm: and withal threw his Horse and him so fiercely against the ground, as his right shoulder was broken in the fall: in like manner was one of his horse legs, so that neither the one or other could rise. At this encounter he broke his Lance, wherefore he suddenly drew his Sword, and addressing himself to the other twain, gave one of them such a forcible stroke, as s●icing through his Armounr, entered the flesh to the very bone on his shoulder likewise, so that therewith he fell from his Saddle. Being thus dispatched of two he came to the third, and saluted him with such a sound blow on the Helmet, as the poor Gentleman was constrained to embrace the neck of his Horse, thereby to shield himself from falling, finding himself as greatly amazed as the other were. hereupon the woman that brought them thither fled away, which the Prince perceiving, cried to Gandalin that he should stay her: in mean while the first Knight having recovered himself, used these speeches to the Prince. We know not Sir, whether this fight hath been for right or wrong, For right it could not be, answered the Prince, unless you think I have done wrong, in succouring the husband of this traitorous woman, whom cruelly she hath caused to die. When the three Knights heard that, they were very much abashed, and then thought they had been abused by their Sister, wherefore they thus replied. Insooth my Lord, so please ye to assure us, we will show on what occasion we assailed you. You shall have good assurance so to do, said the Prince, yet will I not acquit ye from the Combat. Then he that first spoke, rehearsed all the words of their Sister, according as hath been already declared. In good sooth, quoth the Prince, never was villainy disguised in such sort, for she hath done far otherwise: as you may understand by her Husband himself, who being near his death, I conveyed to an Hermitage hard at hand. Seeing it hath so fallen out, said the three brethren, dispose of us as they that remain at your mercy. And mercy shall ye have, answered the Prince, if first ye will loyally swear to me, that you will carry this woman and her husband to the Court of King Languines, and there before him recite all that hath happened: saying withal, how you were thereto constrained by a young Knight that sent ye thither, and who this day departed from his Court, desiring him to censure on this misdeed as he shall think good. All this they promised and swore to perform: wherefore commending them to God, he road away, leaving them together.   

CHAP VI. ¶ How Vrganda the unknown, brought a Lance to the Gentleman of the Sea.  
THis quarrel thus ended with the three Knights, the Gentleman of the Sea took the way which before he had left: but they had not ridden long, till they saw two damsels come toward them by two sundry ways, who addressed themselves to meet together, which when they had done, they entered into communication. One of them bore a Lance in her hand, and when they were come to the Prince, she with the Lance advanced herself to him saying. My Lord, take this Lance which I give ye, because I can assure ye, that within three days it will stand ye in so good steed, as therewith you shall deliver from death, the house from whence ye are descended. The Prince amazed at these words, thus answered. How can it be Lady, that a house should live or die? It shallbe, quoth she, even so as I have said, and this present I was desirous to bring ye, as a beginning of recompense, for two favours I hope to receive by you, the first whereof shall be: When one of your best friends, shall by you have one of the greatest honours that ever he can receive, whereby he shall fall into the deepest danger, that any Knight hath done these ten years space. Believe me Lady, answered the Prince, such honour (if God please) I will not do my friend. Full well I know, quoth the damosel, that so it shall come to pass: then putting on her Palfrey, departed: this damosel you may note, was Vrganda the unknown. When the other damosel (who heard the words) saw her forsake her company, she determined for certain days to stay with the Prince, to see what he should do, wherefore she said. My Lord, although I am a stranger, if you think it convenient, I would gladly for a while abide with y●, deferring a journey that I have to my mistress. The Prince well perceived she was a stranger, which made him to demand of whence she was: whereto she replied, that she was of Denmark. And that himself could not gainsay, because her language gave assurance thereof, for having heard his Lady Oriana at her first coming into Scotland, it made him the better remember that Country speech, whereupon he said. If you please (fair damosel) to go with me, I will defend ye to my power: but I pray ye tell me, if you know the other Lady that even now gave me this Lance? Truly Sir, quoth she, never did I see her, till now I met her on the way, and then she said to me: that the Lance she carried, she would give to the best Knight in the world, desiring me (withal) to let you understand after her departure, that she bore you great affection, and how she was named Vrganda the unknown. Ah God, quoth he, how infortunate am I in not knowing her, if I forbear now presently to follow her, you must think Lady the cause is, that I cannot find her against her will: and thus devising they road on, until the dark evening overtook them.  
At this time it so chanced that they met with a Squire, who demanded where they intended to find lodging travailing so late. Where we can, answered the Prince. In good faith, said the Squire, if you mean to have lodging, you must leave the way which now you take, for you can not long time come to any that way: but if you will follow me, I will conduct ye to a Castle belonging to my Father, who shall do you all the honour and good entertainment may be devised. The damosel thinking this council good, desired the Prince to accept thereof, which he did, therefore the Squire road before them as their guide, leading them directly forth of the way, because he had never seen the combats of Knights errant: and hoping to conduct them the day following to a Castle where such pastime was used, but that night he brought them to their lodging, feasting and entertaining them very sumptuously: yet could the Prince take no rest all the night, for thinking on the Lady that brought him the Lance. On the morrow very early they would be gone, and taking leave of their host, the Squire said he would bring them again into their way, acquainting the Prince as he road with the custom of the Castle, which being very near at hand he showed them: the Castle standing very strong and pleasantly, for before it ran a huge swift River, and no passage thereto, but over a long drawe-bridge, having at the end a fair Tower for defence thereof. When the Prince beheld it, he thought he must needs pass thither by the bridge, yet he asked the Squire if there were any other way. No my Lord, quoth he, for this is the usual passage. March on then, said the Prince, wherewith the Squire, the damosel and their company set forward, but the Gentleman of the Sea remaining behind, entered into such a thought of his Lady Oriana, as he had well near forgotten himself: but at length he heard the noise of fire Halberdiers, armed with Corslettes and helmets, who at the entrance of the bridge had arrested the damosel, and there would force her to take an oath, that she should never bear love to her friend, if he would not promise her to aid King Abies of Ireland against King Perion: which she refusing, cried to the Prince for his assistance. This clamour made him forget his musing, when addressing himself to the palliards, he said. Traitorous villains, who commanded you to lay hands on this Lady being in my charge? In speaking these words, he came to the chiefest of the six, from whom right soon he caught his hatchet, and gave him such a stroke therewith, as he fell to the ground. All the other together presently set upon him, but one of them he sliced to the very teeth, and soon after an other bore him company with the loss of his arm. When the three that were left saw their companions so handled, they took themselves to flight, and the Prince followed them so near, as one of them left his leg behind him, the other twain he let go, returning where he left the damosel, to whom he said. Now boldly go on, and like evil fortune may they have, that encourage any villain, to lay forcible hand on Lady or damosel. She being assured by these words, went on with the Prince and his Squires: but ere they had gone any thing far, they heard a great noise and tumult within the Castle. Me thinks Sir, said the damosel, I hear a marvelous murmuring within this Fortress, therefore I would advise ye to take the rest of your Armour. Go on quoth the Prince, and fear not, for where Ladies are evil entreated (who ought every where to go in safety) there hardly abideth any man of value. In sooth, said she, if you do not what I have desired, I will not pass any further: and so much she persuaded him, that at length he laced on his Helmet: afterward he went into the Castle, at the entrance whereof, he met a Squire weeping, who said. Ah God, why will they murder (without cause) the best Knight in the world? alas, they would enforce him to promise, what is impossible for him to accomplish. These words of the Squire, could not stay the Prince, for he saw King Perion (who had so lately Knighted him) very hardly used by two Knights, who with the help of ten armed Halberdiers had round beset him, saying. Swear, if not, thou diest. Greatly did it grieve the Prince, to see such outrage offered to King Perion, wherefore he thus called to them. Traitorous villains, what moves ye to misuse the best Knight in the world? by heaven you shall all die for him. At these words, one of the Knights left the King, and taking five Halberdiers with him, came to the Prince, saying. It likewise behoveth you to swear, if not, you can escape no better than an other. What? quoth he, shall I then swear against my will? by Gods leave it shall not be so. Then they of the Castle cried to the Porter, that he should shut the gate, wherefore the Prince now saw he must stand upon his defence: whereupon he ran fierce against the Knight, charging him in such sort, as he fell down dead over the crupper of his horse, for in the fall he broke his neck. Which the prince beholding, not tarrying any longer with the Halberdiers, came to the other Knight that combated with King Perion, piercing his Lance quite through his body, so that he accompanied the first in fortune. King 〈◊〉 seeing himself thus succoured, so cheered up his heart, as he did much better than before against his enemies, causing them by sharp strokes of his Sword to retire: in mean while the Gentleman of the Sea, (being on Horssebacke) ran among them and scattered them, tumbling one down here, and another there, so that at length by the aid of the King, they were all slain, except certain that fled away on the top of the walls. But the prince alighted and followed them, whereat they were so affrighted, as they cast themselves down headlong from the walls: only two got them into a Chamber, where they thought to remain in safety, notwithstanding he pursued them so near, as he buckled pell-mell with them. But within the Chamber on a bed lay an ancient Knight, whose unwieldy age had taken from him the use of his legs: to them that came in he used these speeches. Cowardly villains, from whom run ye so shamefully? From a Knight, answered one of them, who hath played the Devil in your Castle: for he hath slain your two Nephews and all our companions. As thus he spoke, the prince caught him by the head, saying. Tell me (villain) where is the Lord of this place, or else thou diest. The poor man seeing himself in such peril, showed him the old Knight lying on the bed: but when the prince saw him so old and decrepit, he blamed him in this manner. Thou wretched old man, hath death already seized on thy bones, and yet dost thou cause such a wicked custom to be maintained here? Well doth thine age excuse thee from bearing Arms, yet shall I give thee the desert belonging to such villainy. With these words he made offer to smite off his head: Wherefore the affrighted old man cried: Alas my Lord, for God's sake mercy. None at all, quoth the prince, thou art dead if thou swearest not to me, that while thou livest, such like treason shall be no more maintained in this place: whereto the old Knight right gladly took his oath. Now tell me, said the prince, wherefore hast thou heretofore kept this custom here? For the love of King Abies of Ireland, answered the Knight, who is mine Nephew, and because I can not aid him with my person in his war, I was desirous to secure him with such Knights errant as passed this way. False villain, answered the prince, what have Knights errant to do with thy desire? so spurning the bed with his foot, threw it down and the old Knight under it: where commending him to all the devils, he left him, and coming down into the Court, took a Horse which was one of the slain Knights, and bringing it to the King, said. Mount yourself my Lord, for it little likes me to stay any longer here, where such bad people have their habitation. The King presently went to horseback, and so they road together out of the Castle: but the prince fearing least the King should know him, would by no means take off his Helmet, notwithstanding as they road along, the King thus spoke to him. I pray ye sir Knight tell me of whence you are, that have succoured me when I was so near my death: warranting me also hereafter from the enemies of this place, and showing yourself a good friend to Ladies and Knights errant. As for me, I am the same man against whom they kept this strait passage, importing the cruel oath for which you combated. My Lord, answered the prince, I am a Knight desirous to do you any service. Believe me, quoth the King, that have I already well perceived, for hardly should I have found so good a friend to help me: yet will I not give over till I know ye. Alas my Lord, said he, that will little profit ye. Notwithstanding, quoth the King, I pray ye take off your Helmet: which he would not do, but put down his Beaver a little. When the King saw that his entreaty would not prevail, he desired the damosel to obtain so much for him: whereto the condescending, took the prince by the hand, saying. I beseech ye Sir, grant the King what he hath requested. He seeing her importunate, took off his Helmet, when presently the King knew him, that it was the same man he had Knighted at the Lady's motion, wherefore embracing him, he said. Right glad am I to know so dear a friend, My Lord, quoth the prince, I knew you so soon as I came to the Castle, to be the man that gave me mine order of Knighthood, wherewith (so please if God) I mean to serve you while your war continueth in Gaul: and willingly I would not be known by any one till your troubles be finished. You have already, said the King, done so much for me, as I rest bounden to you while I live, allowing you to dispose of me and mine: and if (as you say) you come into Gaul, you shall augment with advantage the honour due to you, then justly may I term the hour happy, that it was my fortune to make so good a Knight. Such like words used King Perion, little thinking how near they were allied together, and thus they road devising, till at length they came to a double way, when he demanded of the King, which of those ways pleased him to take. This on the left hand, answered the King, because it guideth directly to my Country. God have you then in his keeping, said the Prince, for I must needs ride this other way. I pray ye, quoth the King, remember your coming into Gáule as you promised me, for the hope I have in you hath abridged part of my sorrow, and giveth me assurance withal, that by your means I shall recover my loss. So took they leave of each other, the King toward Gaul, and the Prince in company with the damosel and Gandalin: but because she had now seen what she desired, namely the proof of the Lance which Vrganda gave him, she would travail no further out of her way, but turning to the Prince said. I have hitherto (my Lord) with right good will kept ye company, because the Lady that gave ye the Lance, said she brought it to the best Knight in the world, and surely I have seen so much, as I stand in no doubt of her speeches: wherefore I shall now shape my course to find her I am sent to, as before I told ye. I pray ye Lady, quoth he, tell me what she is. It is, said she, the Princess Oriana, Daughter to King Lisuart of great Britain. When he heard her named whom he loved so dearly his heart began to tremble in such sort, as he had fallen beside his horse, but that Gandalin stayed him, yet fetching a great sigh, said: Ah God, my heart faileth me. The damosel thinking some sudden sickness was cause thereof, would have had him unarmed: but he told her it was peerless, for he was oftentimes want to feel such passions. The Squire (who all this while had been their guide) took leave of the Prince, ask the damosel if her way lay toward the Court of King Languines: which she affirming, he said he would accompany her thither, because he had business of some importance there. So having courteously saluted each other, they returned the same way they came, and the Prince road on with Gandalin to seek adventures.  
Here leaveth the Author, to tell ye what happened to Galaor, whom the Giant carried away, and gave in keeping to the aged Hermit, as already you have heard. By this time had Galaor attained the age of sixteen years, marvelously increasing in stature and comely perfection: having no other exercise, then reading on a Book which the old man lent him, discoursing the deeds of Arms of sundry ancient Knights. herein he took so great pleasure, as on this occasion, as also by a natural instinct: he was desirous to be Knighted, nevertheless, he knew not whether by right such honour appertained to him. very earnestly he questioned thereon with the Hermit, but the holy man who knew right well, that so soon as he received the order, he should combat against the giant Albadan: his eyes being filled with tears, he thus answered. My Son, much better were it for you to labour in the safety of your soul, then to adventure on the order of Knighthood, which is to be maintained with wunderous travail. Father, quoth Galaor, very hardly shall I follow the calling, which I take against my will: but in that whereof my heart hath made choice, if God grant me good success, will I advance his service, for therout may I not be during life. The good Hermit, who then well perceived his grounded resolution, replied. Certes my Son, seeing you are determined to follow Arms, I can well assure ye, that through fault of high lineage, you need not despair of good hap, in respect you are Son to a King and Queen: but keep that to yourself, and let not the Giant know how I told ye so much. When Galaor heard this, he was exceedingly contented, saying to the Hermit. In sooth Father, the care I have had all my life time to be a Knight, hath been very great: but now I thank God and you, I am rid thereof, for by that you have told me, I can not miss of it. The Hermit noting his earnest affection, doubted lest soon after he would be gone: wherefore he gave the Giant to know his Scholars for wardness, as also how his constitution did now very well serve him, being wonderful desirous of his knighthood, and therefore he should now deal in the cause as best himself pleased. No sooner was the Giant informed hereof, but presently he got him to horseback, and road to the Hermit, with whom he found Galaor, of more large stature than his years expressed, very comely and beautiful in every part, whereupon he thus spoke to him. I understand Son, that you would be a Knight to follow Arms, truly you shall, prepare yourself to go with me when time serveth, and your desire shallbe honourably satisfied. Father, answered Galaor, here in consisteth the sum of mine affection: so not long after, the Giant departed from the Hermit, taking Galaor with him, who falling on his knee before the reverend old man, desired that as he had fatherly nourished him, so still he would remember him in his devout orisons. The holy man with the tears trickling down his cheeks, kissed and blessed him, than mounted Galaor on horseback and followed the Giant, who brought him home to his Castle: where for certain time he practised to combat at Arms, as also bravely to manage horses, having all things convenient for the same, and two masters very expert therein. When he had continued a year at these exercises, the Giant seeing him worthy to receive honour, and strong enough to endure chivalry: disposed thereon as you shall read hereafter.  
Now again doth the Author leave him, and discourseth of that which chanced to the Gentleman of the Sea, who after he departed from King Perion and the damosel, road two days together, without any adventure: and on the third about midday, he arrived at a very goodly Fortress, that appertained to a Gentleman named Galpan. This Galpan was then the most valiant Knight in all that Country, and therefore was greatly feared of all his Neighbours, yet did he there maintain an abominable and wicked custom: forgetting God who was chiefly to be honoured, bequeathed his endeavours to the service of the Devil. For he constrained all Ladies and Damoselles that passed by his Castle to enter in, where villamously he took his pleasure of them: and not contented therewith, enforced them to swear, that while they lived they should bear affection to none but him, if any denied, he caused them cruelly be put to death. Likewise he compelled such Knights as travailed that way, to combat one alone, against his two brethren, but if they were vanquished, he would force the conqueror to deal with himself, he being the most hardy Knight in all those parts. If it happened that he brought them into any debility, he would take from them all they had, turning them away on foot, after he had made them swear, to name themselves while they lived, the vanquished by Galpan, otherwise, he would deprive them of life. But God displeased with the cruelty, which so long time he had used to the hurt of many good people, would now alter this great inconvenience, and that Galpan with his complices should receive guerdon to their deserts, making them an example to all other, as you shall hear presently recited.   

CHAP. VII. ¶ How the Gentleman of the Sea, combated with the guarders of Galpans Castle, and afterward with his brethren, and in the end with Galpan himself.  
BY this time the Gentleman of the Sea is come near the castle, where he saw a Lady coming towards him greatly afflicted, having no other company than a Squire and a Page. This sorrowful woman breathed forth many grievous sighs, showing a violent kind of war, between her hands and the golden tresses of her hair, which she disheveled and rend very pitifully. Héerat was the Prince not a little amazed, and willing to know what moved her to these extremes, he came to her with these speeches. Fair Gentlewoman, I pray ye tell me the cause of your sorrow. Ah my Lord, quoth she, death would be now right welcome to me, being the only friend to bear me company: for such is my misfortune, as tears are more convenient for me, than remembrance of the cause. In sooth Lady, said the Prince, if in any respect I can do ye good, you shall find me ready with all my heart. Being sent Sir, quoth the damosel, by my Mistress' commandment, to a young Knight, a man of some account in these parts, and passing along this way: four cruel villains set upon me, and (whether I would or no) brought me into this Castle, where a traitorous Knight dishonourably forced me, compelling me afterward to swear, that I should never love any friend but him. This complaint moved the Prince to great admiration, and thus he answered▪ Fellow me Lady, for your injury shallbe revenged if God give me leave, hereupon the damosel immediately went with him, and by the way he desired her to tell him, what the man was to whom she was sent. If you revenge my wrong quoth she, I will tell ye: but I can assure ye he is such a one, as will be right sorry when he hears of my misusage. Great reason, said the Prince, hath he so to do: and as thus they communed together, they came to the place where she showed him the four Gardants, to whom he presently said. Disloyal varlet, wherefore have ye so abused this Lady as she travailed on her journey? Because (quoth they) we stood in no fear of you: but if you get ye not gone the sooner, your entertainment shallbe worse then hers was. Without any more talking he drew his Sword, and coming to one that heaved his Hatchet against him, quite cut away the right arm from his body: then turning to another, cloven him over the face to the very ears. When the rest saw their companions thus maimed, they fled away so fast as they could, running through a by way along a River side: but the Prince making no show of pursuing them, wiped his Sword and put it up again, then coming to the damosel, bade her go forward. My Lord, quoth she, hard by is a gate, where I found two armed Knights attending. Well, said he, and I shall find them when I come thither. So road they on, and as the Prince entered the base Court, he saw the Dungeon door open, and an armed Knight on Horseback come forth, after whom they within let down a port cullis, and shut the door again: then the Knight of the Castle advancing himself, very boldly thus spoke to the Prince. Poor wretch, too soon art thou come hither to receive shame and dishonour. Dishonour? quoth the Prince, tush these are but words, leave what shall happen to the prescience of God, who only is skilful therein: and tell me if thou be the villain that did force this Lady? No, answered the Knight, but if it were I, what then? I mean, quoth the Prince, to revenge her wrong if I can. Go to, said the Knight, I shall see then what kind of revenge you use. So giving the Spurs to his Horse, ran as fiercely as he could against the Prince, yet he failed in the attaint: but the Prince meeting him with full career, gave him such a greeting with his Lance through the Shield, as the armour being unable to resist it, let pass the iron thorough both his shoulders, whereby he fell down dead in the place. Having withdrawn his Lance, prepared himself for an other that came to secure the first, who piercing quite through the Princes shield, left the head of his Lance in his Armour, which was of sufficient proof: but in the encounter he met his enemy to directly, as he rend the Helmet from his head, casting him so violently of his Saddle, as he was able to sit no more on horse back. The Knight seeing himself thus unarmed, cried for some other to come help him, whereupon three Halberdiers issued forth, to whom he said: Look well my friends that this man escape us not. At these words, they ran all three violently on the Prince, and buckled so near him, as they slew his horse between his legs, whereby he was constrained to fight on foot: and so offended was he thereat, that having recovered himself, he smote his Lance through the Knight's head, which made him presently yield the ghost. And now he bestirs himself against the other three, who cowardly stealing behind him, wounded him on the Shoulder, whereby he lost a great quantity of his blood: but full well he recompensed the villain that did it, letting forth the dearest blood he had in his body, by cleaving him with his Sword as it had been an Axe. The other two terrified herewith, ran up into a long Gallery, crying: Come my Lord, come quickly, for we are all vanquished. In mean while, the Prince seeing his own Horse was slain, mounted on that belonged to the Knight he slew last: soon after he saw another Knight stand looking forth at a door, who perceiving the Prince had espied him, said. What hath moved thee to come in here and kill my people? Nothing else, answered the Prince, than the desire I have to revenge this Lady, who hath been here wronged most dishonourably. As thus he spoke, the damosel came to him, and knowing the Lord of the Castle that forced her, she said. Ah gentle Knight, see that this monster escape you not, for by him have I lost my former honour. Libidinous Ruffian, quoth the Prince, dearly shalt thou pay for thy disloyal dealing: Go arm thee, else will I slay thee naked as thou art, for to thee or such like Villains ought be used no favour: but the damosel more and more still cried. Kill, kill the Traitor, that hereafter he live not to abuse any more, otherwise will their shame be laid to your charge. Lewd woman, answered the Knight, in an evil hour came he hither by thy counsel, and in thy company. And thou the threatenest me so bravely, attend my coming, and fly not away, for by no other means canst thou warrant thyself. So he departed, and soon after came armed into the Court, where he mounted on a lusty white Courser: then coming to the Prince, he began to menace him, saying. Well mayst thou curse the time that ever thou sawest this damosel, for it will cost thee the price of thy head. Each one, said the prince, must keep his head so well as he may, and he that cannot, let him lose it. Without longer stay they coutched their Lances, which at their encounter ran into their shields & armour, wounding somewhat deep into their flesh▪ and so forcibly did their bodies meet together, as they were both laid along on the ground, when quickly recovering themselves, with their Swords drawn they prepare to the combat. Fierce and cruel strokes were given on either side, to the great admiration of such as beheld them, for many pieces of their shields and armour was scattered round about them: and which is more, their Helmets were so torn and battered, as oftentimes their bare heads bore off the blows, so that the ground was coloured with their blood: but Galpan had received a wound through the sight of his Helmet, which made the blood trickle into his eyes, and he to wipe them retired back a little. What Galpan? said the Prince, desirest thou to breath? dost thou not remember that thou fightest for my head? if thou defendest not thine own well, thou art like to lose it. Be patient a while, answered Galpan, and let us breath a little, for we have time enough to make an end. It is no reasonable motion, said the Prince, seeing I fight not with thee for courtesy, but to revenge the dishonour thou hast done to this Lady▪ With these words he have him such a stroke on the head, as made him fall to the ground on his knees, yet quickly he arose and took heart a fresh: but the Prince would not let him range about as he desired, for he was so out of breath, that he could hardly lift up his Sword, wherefore he did nothing but crouch under his Shield, yet was it so sliced away in pieces, as very little was left to defend himself withal. Galpan seeing he had no other remedy, began to fly before the Sword of his enemy, and at length (as his last refuge) thought to save himself in a little Tower which his Gardants used to stand in: but the Prince following him hard at the heels, got him by the helmet and pulled it off, and giving a full stroke at him, therewith smote his head from the shoulders, afterward he came to the damosel, saying. Fair Lady, now may ye choose an other friend if you please, for he to whom you promised, hath discharged ye of the bargain. Thanks be to God and you sir, quoth she: and as they returned from the Tower, they heard the door shut too, wherefore he mounted on Galpans Horse, which was esteemed one of the goodliest in the World, and said to the damosel. I pray ye Lady, now let us be gone hence. My Lord, quoth she, if it like you. I will carry this head to him whom I am sent, & present it to him on your behalf. Do not so, said the Prince, for the carriage will be too troublesome, but take the Helmet if you will. The damosel liking well of his advise, commanded her Squire to carry it with him: and so they road from the Castle, the servants whereof were all gone, and had left the gates wide open. But the Prince not forgetting the damsels promise, that she would tell him the knights name she was sent unto: therefore earnestly he entreated her to satisfy him therein. Good reason, quoth she: his name is Agraies, Son to the King of Scotland. Praised be God, said the Prince, who made me able to do so much, as so good a Knight shall be no more wronged by traitorous Galpan: for you are (in mine opinion) well avenged, and worthily may you call Agraies a good Knight, in respect he is one of the best I know, and if for him you have received dishonour, it now returneth to your commendation. Go then and say to him, that a Knight of his, humbly saluteth him, whom he shall find at the wars en Gaul when he cometh thither. Gentle Sir, quoth she, seeing you love him so well, I pray ye grant me one request. That will I, quoth the Prince. Let me then, said she, understand your name. Lady, quoth he, at this time forbear the knowledge thereof, and command what else you please, you shall not be denied. No other thing will I desire, answered the damosel. Believe me, said the Prince, it is little courtesy to request the thing, which willingly I would not reveal to any one. Yet must I needs know it, quoth the damosel, or else you do not perform your promise. When he perceived she would not be dissuaded, somewhat moved with anger he replied. Such as know me, call me the Gentleman of the Sea. So setting spurs to his horse, he galloped away from the damosel, who was not a little glad that she knew his name: but when he was gone from her, he remembered the wound on his shoulder, which still bled very freshly, so that he might easily be tract by his blood, and on his white Horse it had dropped in many places. At evening he came somewhat near a fortress, where he beheld a Knight unarmed coming toward him, and after he had well viewed him, he said. My Lord, I pray ye tell me where have you been so wounded? In sooth, quoth the Prince, at a Castle not very far hence. And how, said the Knight, came you by that goodly white Horse? I took it, answered the prince, in requital of mine own, that was there slain by traitorous Villains. But would Galpan, quoth the Knight, suffer ye so to do? Yea marry Sir, replied the Prince, he is now become more patient, for he hath endured the loss of his head. When the knight heard of Galpans death, he presently alighted from his Horse, and ran to kiss the Prince's feet: but he would not suffer him, yet could he not hold him from embracing his shield, saying. Ah gentle Knight, how highly am I indebted to you? you are to this place the most welcome man in the world, for by your means have I thoroughly recovered mine honour. Leave we this talk, said the Prince, and say where I may quickly find some remedy for my wounds. In my house, answered the Knight, abideth a Niece of mine, who shall heal your hurts better than any other. So riding on, they arrived at the Castle, where being dismounted, they walked into the great Hall, the Knight reporting by the way, how Galpan had kept him from bearing Arms one whole year & a half, compelling him to change his name, and swear to call himself while he lived, the conquered by Galpan: but now, quoth he, seeing he is dead, mine honour is restored me again, Afterward he caused the prince to be unarmed, and laid in a sumptuous bed, where his wounds were diligently attended by the Lady, who assured him in short time to make him well again: if he would be advised by her council, which he promised faithfully to do.   

CHAP VIII. ¶ How the third day after the Gentleman of the Sea departed from King Languines, the three Knights, came to the Court, bringing with them the wounded Knight in a Litter, and his disloyal wife.  
ON the third day after the Prince left the Court of King Languines, where he received the order of Knighthood, the three Knights came thither, with their wounded brother and his trothless wife, of whom the discourse hath been already recited. At their arrival they presented him before the King, letting him understand the cause of their coming, and delivering their prisoner on the new knights behalf, to deal with her as he should think convenient. Greatly did the King marvel at the woman's disloyalty, not imagining such wickedness could have harboured in her: notwithstanding, he thanked the Knight that had sent them to his Court, yet could he not guess who it was, for he nor any body else knew that the Gentleman of the Sea was Knighted▪ but the Princess Oriana, and the Ladies which accompanied her in the Chapel. Full soon was he advertised of his absence from the Court, but he thought he was gone to visit his father Gandales: then the King turning to the Knight in the Litter, said. Me thinks that a woman so unfaithful as your wife hath been, deserveth not to live. My Lord, quoth the Knight, do therein as it shall like your majesty: as for me, I will never consent that the thing I most love should die. This said, the knights took their leave of the King, carrying back again with them their Brother in the Litter: leaving their Sister to receive justice by the King's appointment, who after their departure called for her and said. Woman, thy malice hath been too great in respect of thy Husband's kindness, but thou shalt be made an example to all other, that they hereafter offend not in the like: and so he commanded her to be burned alive. The execution being done, the King was in greater pensiveness than before, because he knew not who the new Knight should be, that parted so suddenly from his Court: but the Squire standing by, which lodged the Gentleman of the Sea, and afterward conducted him to the Castle, where he delivered King Perion from death, began to imagine that it was his guest, wherefore he said to the King. It may be (my Lord) a young Knight, with whom the damosel of Denmark and myself were certain days, and then we left him when we came hither. Knowest thou his name? quoth the King. No my Lord, said the Squire, but he is both young and very beautiful: beside, I saw him do such rare chivalry in so little time, as in mine opinion if he live, he will prove one of the best Knights in the world. Then discoursed he at large every action, as also how he delivered King Perion in the time of great danger. When the King had noted well his tale, his desire to know him increased now more and more. My Lord, quoth the Squire, the damosel that came hither with me, happily can tell ye more tidings of him, for it was my chance to meet them together. Of what damosel speakest thou? said the King. Of her, answered the Squire, that lately came from great Britain to Madame Oriana. Presently was she sent for, and he demanded what the Knight was of whom there went such report. Whereupon she declared so much as she knew, chéeflye the occasion wherefore she road with him, and in what manner the Lance was given him by Vrganda, as to the only Knight in the world: But in sooth, quoth she, I know not his name, for never could I learn it of him. Ah God, said the King, who may it be? Now was Oriana void of all doubting, for she well knew it was her Gentleman of the Sea, but she was so grieved with the news, which the damosel of Denmark had brought her, as well she knew not whom she might complain to: for the King her Father sent her word, how she should prepare herself in readiness to come to him, so soon as his Ambassadors should be sent for her into Scotland. But much more willingly could she afford to stay in that Country, than there whether she should now go against her mind, not only in respect of her gentle usage there, but because she imagined by being far thence, she should be further from him that had the prime of her affection: beside, she might there hardly afterward hear any news of him, but continuing in Scotland she could easily compass it. In these melancholy thoughts was the amorous Princess, and the King (on the other side) in daily musing, what he might be that sent the four Knights, with the wicked woman whom the fire had consumed. But five or six days after these matters were thus passed, as the King was conferring with his Son Agraies, (who now stood upon departing toward Gaul to secure the King his Uncle) there entered a damosel, who falling on her knee before all the assembly, framed her speeches to Agraies in this manner. May it please ye my Lord, that in the presence of his highness and this assembly, I deliver a message of importance to ye? then taking the Helmet from her Squire, she thus proceeded. This Helmet thus broken and battered as ye see, I present ye in place of Galpans head, as a token to you from a new Knight, to whom (in my judgement) it better belongeth to bear Arms then any other: and the cause why he sends it to you, is, for that Galpan villainously abused a damosel, that came to you on urgent affairs. What? quoth the King, is Galpan overcome by the hand of one man? believe me damosel you tell us marvels. Worthy Lord, answered she, he only of whom I speak hath done him to death, after he had slain all the other that resisted him in Galpans Castle: and he thinking to revenge their foil himself, combated hand to hand with the Knight, but such was his bad success, as there with dishonour he lost his head, which I would gladly have brought to this Court, yet doubting the corrupt savour thereof, and being otherwise advised by him that sent me to my Lord Agraies, as testimony of his victory this Helmet may suffice. Undoubtedly, said the King to all there present, it is the same Knight of whose name we are ignorant: how say you Lady, cannot you resolve us? My Lord, quoth she, I obtained it by exceeding importunity, for otherwise he would never have told me. Say then good maiden, replied the king, to rid us of all other doubts. He nameth himself, said the damosel, the Gentleman of the Sea. When the king heard this, he was greatly abashed, and so were all the other likewise, afterward he thus spoke. By my faith, I am assuredly persuaded, that whosoever Knighted him, need not to be ashamed thereof, seeing so long time he requested it of me, and I deferred it for occasions which I needed not have done, seeing Chivalrye is in him already so well accomplished. Then Agraies taking occasion to speak, demanded of the damosel, where he might meet with his gentle friend. My Lord, quoth she, he humbly commendeth himself to your good grace, giving you to understand by me, that you shall find him at the wars in Gaul if you come thither. Good news fair damosel, said Agraies have you brought me, now am I more desirous to be gone then before I was: and if I may find him there, with my good will shall I never leave his company. You have reason so to do, answered the damosel, for he loveth you as becometh a Gentleman. Great was the joy for these good news of the Gentleman of the Sea, and if any one received displeasure, you must think it was Oriana above all the rest, yet was it handled so covertly, as the watchfullest eye could not discern it. Now in mean while the king inquired by divers means, how and by whom the Prince was knighted, when at length he was advertised, that the Ladies attending on the Queen, could tell better than any body else, which with much a do he obtained of them. Then may the Gentleman of the Sea, quoth he, vaunt, that he hath found more courtesy in you then in me: but the cause why I prolonged the time of his honour, was that he seemed too young for so great a charge. In this time Agraies courteously welcomed the Dammosell, who beside the Helmet, delivered him Letters from a Lady that déerelye loved him, of whom the History hereafter maketh mention. But now for this present occasion, the Reader must imagine, that Agraies (without longer tarrying in Scotland) is departed with his Army, travailing toward Gaul to his Uncle King Perion.   

CHAP. IX. ¶ How King Lisuart sent for his Daughter the Princess Oriana, for that long before he had left her in the Court of King Languines: who sent her accompanied with the Princess Mabila his only Daughter, as also a noble train of Knights, Ladies and Gentlewomen.  
ABout ten days after Agraies was departed the King his Father's Court with his troop, three Ships of great Britain took port in Scotland: wherein as chief was Galdar of Rascuit, accompanied with an hundred Knights of King Lisuartes, as also many Ladies and Gentlewomen that came for Oriana. Being arrived at the Court of King Languines, they were very graciously entertained, especially Galdar, for he was esteemed a wise and hardy Knight. After he had given his Majesty to understand his ambassage, which was hearty thanks from King Lisuart his Master, for the gentle entreatance of the Princess his Daughter: he requested now to have her home, and Mabila his Daughter with her, to whom he would do all the honour could be devised. Right thankfully did King Languines accept this offer, and was content that his daughter should go with Oriana, thenceforward to be educated in the Court of King Lisuart. Certain days sojourned Galdar and his train in Scotland, during which time they were most honourably feasted, and in this while the King prepared other Ships to accompany the voyage. When Oriana saw that matters fell out in this sort, she knew well it was impossible longer to dissemble or tarry: wherefore as she placed all her little trifles in order, she found among her jewels the ware, which she had taken from the Gentleman of the Sea. This gave her such a remembrance of him, as the tears entered her eyes, and (through vehement love) often wringed her hands, so that the ware which she held in them, suddenly broke, and she espied the Letter enclosed therein, which so soon as she unfolded, she found therwritten these words. This is Amadis without time, Son to a King. At these news she conceived such joy, as quickly she left her former countenance, and not without cause: for she was now assured, that he who before was esteemed (at the most) but the Son of a simple Gentleman, or it might be of less, because he was unknown both of name and parents: the man whom she so faithfully loved, was Son to a King, and named Amadis, therefore without longer deferring, she called the damosel of Denmark to her, one whom she intirelye trusted, and thus spoke. By good friend, I will declare one thing to ye, which no other than mine own heart and you shall know: therefore regard it as the secret of such a Princess as I am, and of the best Knight in the world beside. On my faith Madame, answered the damosel, seeing it pleaseth you to honour me so much, more willingly shall I die then fail therein: and well may you be assured, that whatsoever you disclose to me, shallbe altogether kept secret, and executed to my power. Then so it is dear friend, said Oriana, that you must needs go seek the Gentleman of the Sea, whom you shall find at the wars in Gaul, and if you chance to come thither before him, there must ye of necessity stay for him: but so soon as you see him, give him this letter, saying he shall find his name therein, written on the day that he was cast into the Sea, whereby I know him to be the son of a King, which ought inspire him with higher courage and hardiness, to increase the fame he hath already so well begun. You shall likewise tell him, how the King my Father sent for me, and therefore I am gone toward great Britain: which I was desirous to acquaint him withal, that when he returneth from the war where he is, he should immediately come to the place of my abode, limiting all things in such sort, as he may live in my Father's Court, until he receive other commandment of me. Such was the speedy dispatch of the damosel, as without longer stay she journeyed toward Gaul, and executed her enterprise, whereof hereafter you shall understand more. But not to discontinewe the purposed voyage of Oriana, after that Languines had provided all things necessary for the same, Oriana, Mabila and their company were embarked: then taking leave of the King and Queen at the Sea side, they set sail, having the wind so prosperous, as in few days they landed in great Britain, where they were all right worthily welcomed.  
Hereof doth the Author at this time make no more mention, because he meaneth to tell ye what happened to the Gentleman of the Sea, having left him at the knights Castle that was vanquished by Galpan, in the damsels charge who attended his wounds, which in fifteen days were almost thoroughly healed. Notwithstanding, despising rest, determined to set on his way, so that on a Sunday morning, taking leave of his host and his gentle Chirurgeon: he mounted on Horsseback, accompanied only with Gandalin who never would forsake him, and not far from the Castle they entered a great Forest. It was now about the month of April, when the Birds tune their notes most pleasantly, and that all Trees, Herbs and Flowers declare the coming of the Spring time: this delightsome change made him remember her, who above all other flowered in excellent beauty, and for whom (abandoning his liberty) Love had taken him captive, so that in these thoughts he thus (somewhat loud) parled with himself. Ah poor Gentleman of the Sea, without parents or lands that thou canst avouch, how dared thou lift thy heart so high, as to love her who is beyond all other in beauty, bounty and birth? Ah wretch as thou art, oughtest thou not to consider by the greatness of these three things, wherein she is most perfect: the best Knight in the world may not be so hardy as once to think of loving here And thou poor unknown, art wrapped in a labyrinth of folly, looving and dying, not daring to tell it or make show thereof. In this complaint was the Gentleman of the Sea so carried away, as forgetting all other matters, he road cross the Forest a long space with his Helmet closed: till at length lifting up his head, he beheld a Knight well mounted in the wood by him, who long had kept him company to hear his sad discourse. When the Knight saw the Prince had descried him, and for that cause held his peace, he approached nearer him, with these words. Believe me Knight, it seems you more love your friend than she doth you when in commending her you dispraise yourself: and for aught I understand by your speeches, you are no such man as aught to pretend love, therefore it is necessary I should know who she is, to the end I may supply your defect and serve her. Sir Knight, answered the Prince, you have some reason for these speeches, yet hap what shall, you can know no more than you do: and I can assure ye, that by loving her you can get no advantage. So do not I believe said the knight, for a man ought to conceive glory in travail, or any danger in the service of so fair a Lady, seeing that in the end, he cannot but gain his long hoped-for recompense: wherefore he that loveth in so high a place as you do, should not be aggrieved at any thing that happeneth. When the Prince heard him speak so sensibly, imagining he used these words to comfort him: he was of better cheer, and came more near him to continue this talk, but the knight said. Keep ye back, for either by friendship or force, you must tell me what I have demanded. Now trust me, answered the Prince, it shall not be so. Go to then, quoth the knight, see what will happen thereon, and defend yourself. With right good will, said the Prince. So 'gan they lace their Helmets, taking likewise their shields and Lances: but as they severed themselves for the joust, a damosel came that spoke in this manner. Knights, I pray ye forbear a while, and tell me one thing before the combat if you can: for such is my haste, as I have no leisure to tarry the end of your fight. At these words they stayed themselves, demanding of her what she desired. I would very feign quoth she, hear some news of a knight, called the Gentleman of the Sea. And what would you with him? said the Prince. I have brought him tidings, answered the damosel, from Agraies Son to the King of Scotland. Attend a little, replied the prince, and I will tell ye so much as I know of him. All this time was the knight of the Forest ready for the joust, and much offended at her that came to stay them, wherefore he called to the Prince to guard himself, giving him such an attaint in the encounter, as his Lance flew in pieces: but the Prince met him so full, as both Horse and Man were thrown to the ground, when the Horse (being more nimble than his master) seeing himself at liberty, ran about the field, yet the Prince found the means to take him again, and bringing him to the dismounted knight, said. Here Sir, take your Horse, and henceforth desire not to know any thing against a man's will. The knight would not refuse his gentleness, for he found himself so shaken with his fall, as he could hardly follow to catch him again: and in mean while he assayed to remount on his horse, the Prince left him, coming to the damosel that stayed for him, demanding if she knew the man she inquired after. No truly, quoth she, I did never see him: but Agraies told me, that he would presently make himself known, so soon as I should say that I came from him. He did not deceive ye therein, answered the Prince, therefore you must understand I myself am the man: and with these words he unlaced his Helmet, when the damosel saw his face, she said. In truth now do I verily believe it, for your beauty I have heard very much commended Then tell me, quoth the Prince, where have you left Agraies? Hard by a River not far hence, said she, where he stayeth with his troop, attending a fit wind for passage into Gaul: and is very desirous before he go any further, to know if you will bear him company. With all my heart, replied the Prince, ride then before and conduct me the way. So road he on with the damosel, and in some short time after, they came near the place where Agraies and his Army were encamped: but yet before they arrived there, they heard behind them on cry: Stay Knight, for thou must tell me what I demanded. The Prince turning back, beheld the Knight whom he so lately dismounted, and an other that bore him company, wherefore he stayed to take his Arms. Now were they so near the Prince Agraies Camp, and he as they all might see the tourney, having a far off noted the Princes coming, marveling what he was that so gallantly managed his Horse: and to say sooth, he was (in his time) a Knight of the comeliest grace that ever was seen, and where he strove to hide himself, he was soonest discovered, by reason of his bravery in horsseman-ship. The two Knights ran together in full course against him, breaking their Lances in pieces on his shield: but the Prince meeting him that had the foil in the Forest, threw him again from his saddle so roughly, as in the fall he broke his arm, the grief whereof made him lie still as if he had been dead. When he perceived he was so well rid of one, he drew his Sword, and came to the other, giving him such a stroke on his Helmet, as the Sword entering in, he pulled it back with such force, that the laces broke, whereby he brought it quite from his head upon his sword: then he lifted up his arm to have smitten him, but the Knight quickly clapped his shield before. In mean while the Prince got his Sword into his left hand, which he could do very hardly and with his right hand took hold on his enemy's Shield, renting it violently from about his neck, and afterward gave him such a blow on the head, as in great amazement he fell to the ground. Thus did he leave him there with his companion, and road with the damosel to the Tents of Agraies: who having seen the conclusion of this quarrel, marveled what he was that had so soon overcome two knights, therefore when he came towards him, he went forth to meet him, and so soon as they knew each other, you need make no doubt of their kind salutations. Soon after the Prince alighted, and by Agraies was conducted into his Tent to be unarmed, but first he gave commandment, that the Knights dismounted in the field should be brought thither, where they were no sooner arrived, but Agraies thus spoke to them. Believe me my friends, you attempted great folly to meddle with this knight. You say true my Lord, answered he whose arm was broken, yet once to day I saw him in such plight, as I little thought of any such resistance. Afterward he declared all the happened in the Forest, and the communication they had together: yet he omitted the Prince's complaints, because he stood in fear to displease him. During the repetition of these matters, the patience of the one and boldness of the other, was intercoursed among them, and all that day they sojourned there, but on the morrow morning they mounted on horsseback, shaping their course to Palingues, a right good City on the frontiers, and the utmost part of Scotland, where they found Shipping, and embarked themselves toward Gaul. The wind serving according to their desire, in few days they landed in the haven of Galfrin, and marching thence in seemly order, without any hindrance they came to the Castle of Baldain, where King Perion was besieged, having already lost great number of his people. When he was advertised of this succour, you must imagine him comforted thereby, and their welcome to be good and gracious: chiefly by the Queen Elisena, who having knowledge of their arri●all, sent to entreat her Nephew Agraies to come visit her: which he did, being accompanied with the King and the Gentleman of the Sea, and two other knights of good account. But you must note, that king Perion knew not the Prince at the first sight, yet at the length he called him to remembrance, that it was the same man whom he had Knighted, and afterwards saved his life at the Castle, wherefore thus he spoke. By dear friend, on my faith I had forgotten ye, you are most welcome to this place, for your presence giveth me assurance, that I need fear this war no further, having the only Knight of the world so near me. Dread Lord, answered the Prince, God give me grace to serve you accordingly, for persuade yourself, that while these troubles endure, I will make no spare of my person. As thus they devised, they entered the Queen's Chamber, when the King taking the Prince by the hand, presented him to her saying. Madame, this is the good knight of whom heretofore I told ye, he defended me from the greatest danger that ever I was in: and therefore I pray ye let no spare of courtesy be made to him here, but give him the best entertainment the time will afford. The Queen advanced herself to embrace him, but he fell on his knee with these words. I am servant (Madame) to the Queen your sister, and from her I come to serve you, with like obedience as to her own person. Right graciously did the good Lady give him thanks, yet little thought she that he was her son, for she imagined the Sea had devoured him: yet was the Prince's presence at that very instant so pleasing to her, as her eyes could not be satisfied with beholding him, and (through a secret moving of nature) she wished more good to him than any in the troop. At this time likewise was her remembrance solicited, with the former loss of her two Children, whose years she thought would have equalled the Princes, if God had preserved them, and these occasions urged the tears into her eyes. Thus wept she for h●m that nature touched her withal, & yet unknown was in her presence, but when the Prince beheld her so sorrowful, he reputed it to the reason of the war begun, wherefore he said. Madame, I hope with the aid of God, your King, and the fresh supply we have brought: in short time to recover your joy, and for mine own part, trust me I will make no spare. Heaven prosper ye, answered the Queen, with happy success, and for you are the Queen my sister's knight, I will that ye provide no other lodging, but abide here with us, and all things shall be appointed for ye to your own contentment. Such was their conference together, until Agraies would go refresh himself, wherefore taking leave for the night, he went to his lodging where it was provided: and gladly would the Prince have followed him, but the Queen withheld him by such importunity, as he was constrained now to remain in his unknown mother's custody.  
Right soon was the news of this fresh succour, brought to King Abies of Ireland and Daganel his Cousin, who made very small account thereof, because (in those times) was king Abies accounted for one of the best knights that ever was heard of, and in respect of his hot desire to the fight, determined (seeing new aid was come to his enemy) very quickly to bid him battle, and for this cause he said before all his people there present. If King Perion were so gentle a companion as to come see us, I had rather he would do it to day then to morrow. Assure yourself, answered Daganel, he is nothing so hasty as I think: for he feareth you too much, albeit he maketh little show thereof. Know you, said Gallin Duke of Normandy, by what means we may thereto constrain him? First let us make an ambush of the greater part of our Army, which shall remain with the King in this Forest of Baldain, them you Lord Daganel and myself will go with the rest, to present ourselves at break of day before the City: and I am certain that being descried by our enemies, who imagining our strength is altogether, will take heart, and not fail to come running forth upon us. When we see them approach, we will dissemble a timorous fear, and take our flight toward the Forest, where shall abide the King with his company: then our enemies pursuing assured victory in their own conceit, will seek advantage by our shameful retire, and so be taken themselves in the snare. Very well have you advised, answered King Abies, do you yourself worthy Duke give order, that all things be done as you have appointed. Now might ye there behold armed men on horseback, the Soldiers mustering, the Drums thundering and the trumpets cheerfully sounding, as in one instant matters were so well ordered, that the King's commandment failed in nothing: whereupon the next morning at the break of day, Daganel and the Duke of Normandye, showed themselves with their Squadron before the Town. Little did King Perion at that time think of any such enterprise, but altogether refreshed his succour, and honoured the Prince by whom he had found such friendship. And to make some show of his affection toward him, in the morning he came with his Queen to the Prince's Chamber, where they found him washing his hands, and perceiving his eyes red, swollen, & blubbered with tears, they easily gathered he had taken no good rest that night: and very true it was, for continually he thought of her, whose love had deprived him of liberty, and likewise compared therewithal, the slender means he had to attain so high, which made him enter into such profound grief, as he expected no other remedy then death. The Queen desirous to know the cause of his sadness, took Gandalin aside, thus speaking to him. My friend, your masters countenance bewrayeth some inward displeasure, hath any one here offended him in aught? No Madame, answered Gandalin, he hath by your Majesty received great honour: but he is wont to be tormented in sleep as you see. During these discourses, the Sentinel came to advertise the King, how he had discoucred the ambush, and the enemies were very near the City, wherefore presently he commanded to dorayne the Army. Now was each one ready to horseback, especially the King and the Prince, who went directly to the City gate, where they found Agraies chiding, because they would not let him go forth, thinking he should tarry too long from the fight: for he was one of the hardiest Knights, and the best to give assistance in need that could be found, so that if good advise had been as ready with him, as he was possessed of unconquerable courage, his like might not have been found in the world. At the Kings coming the gates were suddenly opened, and then went forth the men of Gaul in order, who seeing their enemies to be so great a number, albeit the whole Army was not there: the greater part of them was minded to go no further, reputing it overmuch boldness to assail such an unequal strength, and therefore arose among them a murmuring contestation. Which Agraies perceiving, without further trifling, gave the spurs to his horse, crying aloud, Beshrew him that tarrieth any longer: seeing them he is to deal withal, shall we not venture? So saying, he galloped toward his enemies, in like manner did the Gentleman of the Sea and the rest of their train, who without any order of marching, ran among them, and were immediately mingled together. He whom the Prince first met withal, was the Duke of Normandye, whom he charged so courageously, as breaking his Lance on him, overthrew both man and horse to the earth, and with this rough fall his leg was broken. So passed on the Prince setting hand to Sword, and as a chased Lion entered the press, showing such deeds of Arms, as none durst withstand him: for he overthrew all that encountered him, killing some outright, chiming and dismembering others, so that every one was glad to give him way. When Daganel saw his men in such disorder by the means of one Knight, he got the most of them together so well as he could, and round about beset the Prince to beat him down: which they had done, but that Agraies perceiving it, came with his troop to rescue him. At their arrival you might behold Lances broken, Knights tumbling down, helmets rend, & shields scattered on the ground, making a great conflict & disorder among the Irishmen, for King Perion likewise came fresh upon them with his band. Daganel (on the contrary side) did the best he could to retire back, but the Gentleman of the Sea was among the thickest, showing such chivalry, as he found before him not any resistance, each one was so abashed at his behaviour: and Agraies above the rest, showed that his arm was not benumbed, for the more to hearten and cheer up his men, he cried aloud to them: follow my friends, follow the best Knight that ever bare Arms. When Daganel saw his side to have the worst, and what great damage he received by the Prince, he determined to kill his horse, and so to make him fall among the crowd: but he was deceived, for the Prince coming to him, let fall so mighty a stroke on his Helmet, as rend it clean from off his head, and so remained Daganel unarmed. Which when King Perion espied, he reached him such a salutation with his Sword, as cloven his head through the very brains: whereupon his men seeing him slain, they that had the best horses fled away for life, and stayed not till they saved themselves where King Abies was ambushed. But King Perion still pursuing victory, discovered the rere-guard that came from the Forest, marching in very great haste toward him, showing by their countenance a revenge of their loss, wherefore joining together, they cried: Set on them men of Ireland, see that none of them escap●●●s, but let us enter pell-mell in the field. When the Gauls found themselves thus surprised, never were people more astonished, for they imagined the ambush had not been so great: and which most of all affrighted them, was, that they must now deal with fresh and lusty men, themselves being sore wearied, & their horses so over-laboured, as they could hardly endure their burden. Beside, they knew King Abies was there in person, being (as you heard before) accounted one of the best Knights in the world: and for this cause the most part of the Gauls began to tremble But the Gentleman of the Sea foreseeing the disorder was like to ensue, came and persuaded them, rather to die then lose one ●ote of their honour and reputation, saying: My friends and companions, be of good cheer, each one make known his virtue, and remember the esteem the Gauls have gotten by Arms. We are to deal with people astoned and half overcome, let us not make change with them, taking their fear, and delivering our victory: for if they but only behold your resolved countenances, I am certain they are not able to endure ye, let us then enter among them, for God is our defender. At these words the most dishartened took courage, concluding to stay and fight manly with their enemies, who soon after in great fury set upon them. Now did King Abies make known his magnanimity, and hardly could Prince Agraies men endure the assault, nor the squadron that King Perion brought: for King Abies maimed some, other he overthrew, and while his Lance held, he dismounted every Knight that met with him. Afterward he laid hand to Sword, wherewith he carried himself so valiantly, as the hardiest were amazed thereat, for he made way where ever he came: so that King perion's men, not able longer to hold out, began to retire so fast as they could toward the City. When the Gentleman of the Sea saw that fortune was so contrary to them, in great despite he entered the throng, and fought so fiercely, as the most part of the Irishmen were glad to stay, while the Gauls without disorder retired toward the Castle, then turning his horse, he followed them. To defend this brunt, there was also King Perion, and the Prince Agraies, who delivered testimony to their enemies (by the keen edge of their Swords) how well they knew to govern themselves in such extremities: notwithstanding, the Irishmen seeing they had the better, still pursued them with eager courage, driving them confusedly into the City, hoping that now would be the end of their war. Such was the retire of the Gauls, still more and more pressed by their enemies, as doubtless the Irish had entered the City after them, but that they were hindered by King Perion, Agraies, and the Prince, who wholly did repulse the throng, till their people by them were gotten in. But now was tidings brought to King Abies, that his Cousin Daganel and Gallin Duke of Normandye were slain, whereat he waxed very displeasant: and seeing King Perion with his people were enclosed in the City, he resolved to take leisure for his revenge, wherein he was deceived, for soon after he was very strongly repulsed, which made him almost mad with anger. And as he thus raged up and down, one of his Knights showed him the Prince, saying: My Lord, he whom you see mounted on the white Horse, is the man that slew Prince Daganel and the Duke of Normandye, with many other the best in your Army. When King Abies heard that, he road to the Prince with these words: Knight, thou hast slain the man whom most I loved in the world: but if thou wilt combat, I hope to be revenged so well, as I shall have cause to be quit with thee. Your men, answered the Prince, are too little travailed to meddle with ours, notwithstanding, if thou wilt (as a Knight) revenge him thou lovedst, and declare the great hardiness for which thou art renowned: choose of thy men such as thou shalt like, and I (if it please the King) will do as much of mine, for being equal in number, thou shalt gain more honour than with so great an Army, which thou hast brought into this country without just occasion. Believe me, quoth the King, thou talkest well, go to, choose thou thyself the number of men, how many or few thou thinkest good. Seeing you leave it in my choice, replied the Prince, I will make an other offer, which (it may be) you will account more convenient. You are mine enemy for that which I have done, and I yours for the wrong you have done to this Realm, so for our several cause of anger, it is not reasonable any other than ourselves should suffer: let then the battle be between you and me only, and presently (if you will) without longer dallying, yet shall you assure me from your men, as I will do you from mine, so that none shall move, whether the one or the other be vanquished. Right well, said King Abies, do I allow of thy offer: whereupon he chose ten Knights on his part to guard the field. And as the Prince laboured to gain the like of the King, with his consent, he found King Perion and Agraies somewhat loath to grant the Combat: as well for the consequence that might ensue, as also because the Prince was much wearied and sore wounded beside, wherefore they entreated him to defer the matter till the day following. But the desirous affection he had to be conqueror, as also to make a final conclusion of the war, that he might return under her obeisance, from whom he came to serve King Perion: would not suffer him to make any longer delay, of the glory and honour which he saw so near at hand. For this cause he used so many persuasions to the King, as in the end he was granted the Combat, and on his side likewise were ten Knights appointed, for his guard and safety in the field.   

CHAP. X. ¶ How the Gentleman of the Sea fought the Combat with King Abies, on difference of the war he made in Gaul.  
YOu have heard in what manner the Combat was accorded between King Abies and the Gentleman of the Sea, and now already is the greatest part of the day spent: wherefore it was agreed by the Lords on either side, (very much against the wills of the two Combatants) that all should be deferred till the morrow morning: as well that they might refresh themselves, and repair their battered Armour, as also for regarding such wounds, as they had received in the passed encounters. Hereupon the two Kings withdrew themselves, the one to his Camp, and the other to his Castle. But such is the bruit spread through the City, what worthy exploits the Gentleman of the Sea had done: as he could not pass by them, but thus they spoke with general voice. Ah famous Knight, God give thee grace to proceed as thou hast begun: impossible is it to find a Gentleman, so accomplished with beauty and chivalry as he is, for our eyes are judges of the one, and our enemies full well have felt the other. But you must note, that in the morning when they went to the field, the King had given the Queen in charge, that so soon as the Prince returned from the war, she should send one of her Ladies to him, requesting him not to be unarmed in any other place then in her Chamber: wherefore as he went near the King's lodging, the Lady came unto him, saying. Sir Knight, the Queen desires you not to be elsewhere unarmed, but in her Chamber, where she stayeth your coming. In sooth, said the King, you must needs grant this request, and I desire it may be so. The Prince condescending, went where the Queen stayed with her Ladies, and no sooner was he entered, but presently the Ladies holp to unarm him: yet the Queen herself took the greatest pain of all, and as she had off his coat of Mail, she perceived he was sore wounded, which she showing to the King, he said. I marvel Gentleman, seeing you are so hurt, that you took no longer time for your Combat. It had been needless, answered the Prince, for I have no wound (I thank God) that can keep me from the Combat, Right soon were the chirurgeons commanded to look thereon, and they found it greater in show then danger. In the mean while supper was prepared, during which time, they had much talk of the accidents that day past: until the hour of rest came, when each one departed till the next morning. Which being come, after they had served God, the King sent a rich and goodly Armour to the Prince, of better proof and strength then that he had on the day before: wherewith he armed himself, and having taken leave of every one, mounted on horseback in company of the King, Who bore his Helmet, the Prince Agraies his Shield (wherein was portrayed two azured Lions in a golden field, rampant the one against the other, as if they both intended murder,) and an other Prince carried his Lance. In this equipage he set forward to the field, where the King of Ireland attended his coming, well armed, and mounted on a goodly black Courser: but because King Abies had in former time fought hand to hand with a Giant, and vanquished him with the loss of his head, therefore he brought to the Combat the like figure in his Shield, describing the whole order as the deed was done. On either side resorted thither a number of people, placing themselves for most convenient sight of the Combat. And now were the Champions entered the lists, each one courageously resolving against his enemy, wherefore without longer tarrying, lacing down the sight of their Helmets, and commending themselves to God: they gave the spurs to their horses, meeting together so furiously, both with lance, body and horse, as their staves flew in shivers, yet piercing their Armour, and both were laid along in the field. But heat of heart and desire of conquest, made them recover footing quickly, and plucking forth the spields of their lances wherewith they were wounded: set hand to Sword, beginning such a strange and cruel fight, as each one was amazed to see them endure so much. For this fight was not equally matched, in respect the Prince was but young, well proportioned, and of reasonable height: but King Abies was so great, as he never found any Knight that exceeded him a handful every way, being (withal, so strongly made, that he was rather to be accounted a Giant then a man: yet was he highly loved and reverenced of his subjects, for the virtue and prowess which remained in him, albeit he was too much audacious and proud. Now were these Champions so animated against each other, as well for honour, as the consequence of the Combat, that without any stay for breathing they laid on such load, as their strokes resounded the fight of twenty men together. And well they witnessed no great good will between them, for there might ye see the earth tainted with their blood, the pieces of their shields, the plate of their Armour scattered abroad, and their Helmets so bruised: that by reason their Arms being so squandered, they were unable to hold out their strokes, for every blow caused the blood to gush out abundantly, yet were they of such invincible courage, as they seemed to feel none of this annoyance. Hereupon they maintained such bravery the one against the other, as it could not be judged who had the better or worse: notwithstanding, about the hour of three, the Sun gave an exceeding warm and violent heat, whereby they found themselves so chafed in their Armour, as they began to wax somewhat feeble: especially King Abies, in so much as he was constrained to retire back, thus speaking to the Prince. I see thee very near falling, and myself am likewise out of breath, if thou think it good, let us rest awhile, for afterward we may more easily finish our enterprise. And thus much I tell thee, (although I have no cause or desire to favour thee) that I hold better opinion of thee, than any Knight that ever I combated withal: moreover, it displeaseth me that I had any occasion to see thee, and much more that I am so long in conquering thee, whereby I might take vengeance for his death whom most I loved in the world, & as thou didst sie y him in open battle, so likewise will I overcome thee in sight of both our Camps. King Abies, replied the Prince, I now perceive it displeaseth thee that thou canst do me no more harm, entering so like a Tyrant as thou didst to ruinated this country. And as it often happeneth, that he which delighteth in evil, can never brook any other savour: so hope I to reward thee so well for thy pains, as thou shalt confess thou hast wronged these people. Beside, thus much I advise thee before hand, that I shall give thee as little leisure or respite, as thou hast given them who have tasted thy cruelty: therefore stick close to thy tackling, and defend thyself against the Knight whom thou reputest failing. The King then taking his Sword, and what was left of his shield, thus answered. Well mayst thou curse the boldness that made thee enter these Ly●tes, for hence thou shalt not escape without loss of thy head. Do what thou canst, said the Prince, for thou shalt rest no more, till thou or thine honour be dead. Herewith more cruelly then before they began again their combat, as if they had but even then entered the field, and albeit King Abies was so expert, by reason of his long exercise in Arms, that he knew right well how to defend and offend: nevertheless the lightness, hardiness, and promptitude of the Prince, made him in the end forget all his industry, for he was so closely followed at an inch, as he lost altogether the rest of his shield, by which means the Prince could endamage him far better than before: whereof he failed not, and in so many places withal, that the blood streamed down his Armour in marvelous abundance, causing him by little and little to lose his strength, and being in this agony, staggering from one side to another, he could not devise what to do, to escape the pursuing sword of his enemy. Seeing himself now devoid of all hope, he concluded either soon to die or have the victory, and taking his Sword in both hands, he ran with all his might against the Prince, and pierced it so far into his shield, as he was not able to pull it forth again. Which when the Prince beheld, he gave him such a furious stroke on the left leg, that being quite cut from the rest, the King was enforced to fall down: and right soon did the Prince set foot upon him, tearing violently his Helmet from his head saying. Thou art dead King Abies, if thou dost not yield thyself vanquished. Believe me I am dead, answered the King, not vanquished alone, but of both the one and other, my overwéening hath been the only cause. Notwithstanding, since it is so come to pass, I pray thee let assurance be given to my Soldiers▪ that without injury they may carry me into my Country, and dying like a Christian, I may pay my debt both to God & men. feign would I have council for my overburdened soul, then afterward shall I render to King Perion what I usurped from him. And as for thee who hast vanquished me, I despise not to die by the valiance of so gentle a Knight as thou art: but with all my heart pardon thee my death, wishing thou mayst continue honourable, and yet hereafter to remember me. When the Prince saw him in such debility, he was exceeding sorrowful for his death, although he knew assuredly, that if he had won the glory of the combat, he would have dealt much worse with him. During these speeches, the Knights appointed on each side came to them, wherefore King Abies commanded his Captains, to render King Perion what he had conquered in Gaul: which was accomplished, and by these means the Irishmen had assurance to carry home their King, who died soon after order was given for their affairs. These matters thus ended, King Perion, Agraies, and all the Lords of Gaul came to the Prince, accompanying him with great joy from the field into the City, even with such triumphant glory as to conquerors is accustomed: who by their prowess not only overcome their enemies, but restore the country that is welnéere ruinated.  
Now must ye understand, that a little before the beginning of the Combat, the damosel of Denmark who came from fair Oriana to the Prince, was arrived at King perion's Court: and before she would make herself known, she desired to behold the issue of the fight. Afterward, having seen him she searched was so honourably returned, she showed herself, and taking him aside, said. Sir Knight, may it please ye to hear a word in secret, of such matter as doth very near concern ye? Even what you will, answered the Prince: with which words he took her by the hand, and keeping her from the throng, she thus spoke. The Princess Oriana who is only yours, hath sent me to you and this Letter withal, wherein you shall find your name written. When he heard her named, by the remembrance of whom only he lived, he was so perplexed, that without understanding what else the damosel said: having taken the Letter, he let it fall, being ready himself to bear it company, which the damosel seeing, she took up the Letter and came to him again. Every one that beheld him in these passions, marveled what news she brought to procure this alteration: but she pulled him by the arm so roughly, as made him forget his former trance, thus speaking. What now my Lord? take you the message in so ill part, that comes from the only Lady in the world, and who above all other loveth you? for whose sake likewise I have taken so great pain to find you? Ah Lady, quoth he, on my faith I knew not what ye said to me, for even as you began to speak, I felt the pain to renew in me, which heretofore you have seen me endure. It is true, said the damosel, but now it is needless for ye to conceal yourself any longer from me, for I know more of your affairs and my Ladies, than you imagine, because herself hath bewrayed them to me. And if you bear her affection, you need not be ashamed thereof, in that she loveth you beyond all other: in respect whereof, she telleth you by me, that she must go to the King her Father, requesting after your departure from this war, you would come see her in great Britain, appointing all things in such order, as at your arrival you may remain there in the Court, until more amply you understand her mind. Beside she gave me charge to tell ye, how she certainly knows you are Son to a King, wherewith she is no less pleased than she thinks you will be: and seeing (being ignorant of your lineage) you have proved so good a Knight, now understanding your nobility, you should labour to increase your fame if you can. And then again she gave him the Letter, saying. Take here the Letter wherein your name is written, and which you had hanging about your neck, at such time as you were found in the Sea. The Prince took the Letter, and when he looked on it, remembering to what good purpose his Lady had taken it from him, fetching a vehement sigh, somewhat softly he thus spoke. Ah happy Letter, most divinely wast thou found, in respect thou hast been kept by her who hath my heart in her custody, and for whom I have so often assayed to die, yet cannot. For thinking on her perfection, I seek to augment it by strength and commendation, but of so slender value is my puissance found: that striving thereby to gain her favour, the least pain I feel surpasseth a thousand deaths, which nevertheless are now recompensed by this present benefit. O highest God, when shall I see the time, wherein I may give her to understand, how great my devotion is to obey her by some agreeable service? Having finished these words, he opened the Letter, and saw his name written therein, which was Amadis: then thus spoke the damosel again to him. I was charged Sir, so soon as I had done my message, to return with all speed to her that sent me to you, whereby she might understand some news of you, therefore bethink yourself if you will command me any thing. You shall not departed (so please you) in such haste answered the Prince, but stay with me two or three days: during which time, for what occasion so ever it be, you shall not forsake me, and then will I conduct ye whether you please. In obeying you, replied the damosel, I trust I do service to my Lady Oriana. Their talk thus breaking off, he returned to the King and Agraies, who stayed for him at the entrance of the City, where the people were wonderfully assembled in the streets. Then came the Queen with her Ladies and Gentlewomen to unarm him, and the chirurgeons to visit his wounds, which when they had regarded, albeit they were many and irksome to behold, yet were they to be healed without any great danger of his person. For this night the King desired that he and Agraies would sup with him, but the Prince making excuse by his wounds, went to his Chamber, willing to have no other company then the damosel: to whom he did all the honour could be devised, hoping through her to find remedy for part of his griefs. This damosel sojourned with him certain time, and in respect of the good news she brought him, no wound could hinder him from visiting the great Hall, there walking and conferring with every one: but most with her whom he caused to stay, attending his disposition till he might bear Arms. And between them happened a strange occasion, which was cause of his longer abode in Gaul then he expected: so that the damosel returned to Oriana without him, as you hereafter shall understand.   

CHAP. XI. ¶ How the Gentleman of the Sea was known by King Perion his Father, and by the Queen Elisena his Mother.  
IN the beginning of this History it hath been recited, how King Perion gave his Queen Elisena, being then in little Britain, a King like another that commonly he wore, and these two Kings were of such an uniform, as there was no difference to be discerned between them. Likewise you have understood, how when the young Prince was put upon the water, this King was fastened about his neck, which Gardal●●, kept▪ till time he sent it by the damosel (a little before he was Knighted) with the Sword and the ware. Now had the King sundry times demanded of the Queen for the King, who made him divers doubtful answers, and in the end said she had lost it. But it came to pass, that as the Prince walked with oriana's damosel, which commonly he was wont to do, young Melicia daughter to King Perion, passed by him weeping, when the Prince stayed her, saying. Fair friend, why weep ye? Ah my Lord, quoth the Princess, I have even now lost a King, which the King my Father gave me to keep while he slept. Weep not so fair Virgin, answered the Prince, you shall have another of me to give him: so taking his own King from his finger, he gave it her. When she beheld it, thinking it was the same she had lost, she said. A my Lord, you have found it, wherewith I am not a little glad, for I have all this while sought it. What now? quoth the Prince, this is not your King. In mine opinion it is, answered Melicia, or the only thing of the world that most resembles it. So much the better, said the Prince, for more easily will it be judged the same you lost. herewith went Melicia to the King's chamber, and finding him awake, he asked her for his King, then gave she him the same she had of the Prince, which the King put on his finger, thinking it was his own. But soon after as he walked through the Gallery, he espied in a corner lying the other King, which he gave his daughter before to keep, and taking it up, he compared them together: whereupon he remembered, that one of these two was the same he sometime gave the Queen, so he asked of Melicia where she had the King. The young Princess afraid of beating, durst not lie, but thus answered. My Lord and Father, your King I lost, and as I searched for it, I met with the Gentleman of the Sea: who because he saw me weep, gave me one of his, which I delivered you in stead of your own, and if that be not it, I know not where it is. When the King heard this, he presently conceived suspicion between his Queen and the Prince, imagining in respect of his beauty, how she was fallen into some dishonest liking of him, and therefore had given that token. Hereupon he went to the chamber where she was, and shutting the door, sat down by her, not speaking one word a good space, but silently fixed his eyes on the ground: then breathing forth a passionate sigh, he said. I will not marvel any longer Madame, why you would never make me any certain answer, when I demanded for the King I gave ye in little Britain: you have lost it in such a place, where you would be loath I should know of it, but hardly can you conceal affection, when it proceedeth to such effects. The Gentleman of the Sea inconsiderately gave it to Melicia, little thinking that it came at the first from me: and thereby do I know what he suspecteth not, and yourself would I should not understand. When the Queen (who already by his countenance saw he was troubled) heard what he had said, she now determined not to dissemble with him in any thing, but summarily made a true discourse of her childbirth. And (not without tears) she recounted to him, how standing in fear of the King her Father, as also the severe law used in his Kingdom, she was constrained to comunt her Son to the mercy of the Sea, and in his cradle coffin put with him, both the King, Sword, and what else hath been already declared. Confounded was the King with marvel when he heard the whole truth, and presently imagined that the Prince might be his first Son, whom God had so miraculously preserved, wherefore he said to the Queen. According to your circumstances revealed, it may be, that he who is unknown to us, is our Son, and the rather I conjecture so by the name he beareth of the Sea. Ah God, said the Queen, may it fall out so happily? I beseech ye my Lord, send presently for him, and we will desire him to tell us of whence he is. Let us go then, quoth the King, to seek him. So went they to his chamber, where they found him sleeping, wherefore (without making any noise) he approaching near the bed, espied his Sword, which he took, and after he had well viewed it, knew it to be the same he esteemed so much, and wherewith he had finished many famous adventures, whereupon he said to the Queen. On my faith, this is the Sword I left in the chamber of the King your Father, the first night we were acquainted together, and now do I the better believe what you have said unto me. Ah God, said the Queen, let us suffer him sleep no longer, for my heart cannot endure this weighty burden: herewith she took him by the hand and awaked him, saying. My Lord, sleep no more at this time, for other occasions calleth you. Easily was the Prince raised from sleep, but when he beheld the Queen weeping, as one amazed thereat, he said. Madame, from what occasion proceed these tears? is there any thing I may do ye service in, to remedy them? Noble friend, quoth the Queen, you only may qualify my griefs by your words, in telling us whose Son you are. So God help me Madame, answered the Prince, I know not, for by strange adventure was I found in the Sea. The good Lady was then so overcome with joy, as not only speech, but vital sense was taken from her, and she fell down in a swoon: which the Prince perceiving, quickly ran to recover her, saying. What ail ye Madame? further could he not imagine on the cause of this alteration. Ah my Son, quoth she, now know I better than thyself who thou art. The King likewise was so carried away with joy and admiration, as he stood not able to speak a word: now was it hard to judge, which of these three felt greatest contentation, but the mother throwing her arms about the Prince's neck, said. Now may I boldly dare to kiss thee in safety, having been so long deprived of thy sight and knowledge: highly am I beholding to the divine bounty, who hath favoured the offence I committed through fear, which was, in delivering thee to the courtesy of the waters, and see here thy Kingly Father that begot thee. With these words the Prince fell at their feet, extreme joy reducing the tears into his eyes, and all together praised God for this good adventure: especially the Prince, because he had been preserved in so great danger, and now at length to find such honour and good hap, as to meet with his Parents, being all this while unknown to them. As thus they devised on the fortunes passed, the Queen demanded of him if he had no other name, then that which now he called himself by? Yes Madame, quoth he, but it is not fully three days past since I knew thereof, for as I came from the Combat against King Abies, a damosel brought me a Letter which I have, and (as she saith) was fastened about my neck, being wrapped in ware, when I was found in the Sea, wherein I find that my name is Amadis: and héere-withall he showed the Letter to the Queen, which she full well knew so soon as she saw it. Believe me, said the Queen, this truly is the Letter that Darioletta wrote, when she made the separation between you and me: thus though I was ere while in great grief and sorrow, yet now (praised be God) I feel as much joy and pleasure. Now seeing assuredly your name is Amadis, it is needless you should bear any other contrary title: so thence forward he was called no more the Gentleman of the Sea, but Amadis, and sometime Amadis of Gaul. It was not long before the bruit hereof was spread through the City, that the good and famous Knight was Son to King Perion and the Queen Elisena: wherefore if every one rejoiced, you must think the Prince Agraies was not sorry, for they were found to be Cousin germans. Among the rest, the damosel of Denmark had knowledge hereof, wherefore considering what comfort this would be to the Princess Oriana, she laboured so much as she could to return toward her: knowing she would give her friendly countenance, bringing her so good news, what gracious fortune had happened to him whom above all other she loved. For this cause she entreated Amadis, to dispatch her return to her Mistress: In that I well perceive, quoth she, you cannot so speedily departed hence as you would, nor were it reasonable, but you should give some contentation to them, who for the love of you have shed so many tears. These words caused the tears to trickle down his cheeks, yet smothering his grief so well as he could, he made this answer to the damosel. Lady, I will pray that the heavens may safely conduct ye, yet let me entreat your friendly remembrance, commanding the uttermost of my endeavours, for without your gentle care my life cannot endure: withal, I find myself so indebted to my gracious mistress, as I dare not request any thing at her hand. Neuer-the-lesse you may say to her, that right soon shall I come to show my obedience, and in like armour will I be clad, as when you saw me Combat with the King of Ireland: because both she and you may the more easily know me, if I can not compass the mean to spoke with you, and in this manner departed the damosel of Denmark. On the other side, Agraies seeing his Cousin Amadis was to remain longer in Gaul, determined to take his leave, and calling him aside, said. Fair Cousin, for this time I must be enforced to leave ye, albeit your company is more pleasing to me then any other: but my passionate heart will allow me no quiet, until I be with her, who both far and near hath power to command me. It is Madame Olivia, daughter to the King Vanain of Norway, who sent for me (by the damosel that brought me the Helmet of Galpan, which you sent me in revenge of the dishonour she received by him) that I should come to her with all convenient speed: and therefore I neither may or dare fail, which is the only cause of my parting with you. Now must you note herewithal, that at the time as Don Galuanes, brother to the King of Scotland, was in the Realm of Norway with Agraies his Cousin: this young Prince became so enamoured of the Lady Olivia, as he concluded never to love any other than her, and this made him the more earnest to departed by her commandment. And to tell ye what this Galuanes was, he had the name of Galuanes without land, because all the portion his father left him, was only a poor Castle: for the rest he had spent in following Arms and entertaining Gentlemen, whereupon he had the Surname of without land. Such as you have heard were the speeches Agraies had with Amadis, of whom he requested to know, where he should find him at his return from Norway. Cousin, quoth Amadis, I hope at my departure hence, to visit the Court of King Lisuart, where I have heard chivalry to be worthily maintained, with greater liberty and honour, then in the Kingdom of any Emperor or King. But seeing it liketh you to take another way, I desire when you shall see the King your Father, and the Queen, to remember my bounden duty to them both: assuring them on my behalf, that they may command me in their service, even as yourself, or any other, as well in respect of our alliance together, as also for the gracious entertainment I had in my youth, being by them most carefully educated and esteemed. This done, Agraies took his leave, being honourably conducted through the City by the King and all the Lords of his Court: but so soon as the King entered the fields, he saw a damosel coming toward him, who boldly laying hold on the rain of his horse bridle, thus spoke. Remember thyself King Perion, what a damosel sometime said unto thee: That when thou didst recover thy loss, the Kingdom of Ireland should lose her flower. Think now I pray thee whether she said true or no, thou hast recovered thy Son whom thou reputedst lost, and even by the death of valiant King Abies, who was the flower of Ireland, and such a one as that country shall never have his like: until time the good brother of the Lady must come, who shall by force of Arms cause to be brought thither the tribute of other Countries, and he must die by the hand of him, that shall accomplish for her the only thing of the world which most he loveth. And so it happened by Marlot of Ireland, brother to the Queen of that country, whom Tristan of Leonnoys killed, on the quarrel of tribute demanded of King Mark of Cornwall his Uncle: which Tristan afterward died for the love he bore to Queen Yseul, being the only thing of the world that he most loved. Now must thou be mindful hereof, said the damosel to the King, for Vrganda my mistress so commandeth thee. When Amadis heard her speak of Vrganda, he took occasion thus to answer. damosel and my friend, I pray you say to her who sent you hither, that the Knight to whom she gave the Lance, commendeth himself to her good grace: being now assured in the matter whereof then she spoke, how with that Lance I should deliver the house from whence I first descended: and even so it fell out, for I delivered my Father unknown to me, being then at the very point of death. So without any other reply, the damosel turning bridle, road back the same way she came, and the King into the City, with Amadis his Son so lately recovered: for which cause, he assembled all the Princes and Lords of his Realm, meaning to keep a more magnificent Court then ever he had done before, to the end that every one might behold Amadis, in regard of whose honour and happy coming, there were Knightly Tourneys daily used, beside great store of other pastimes and delights.  
During these pleasures, Amadis was advertised in what manner the Giant had carried away his brother Galaor, wherefore he determined (happen what might) to go seek him, and if possible he could to recover him, either by force of Arms or otherwise. Notwithstanding, his heart being daily moved to go see her that hourly expected his presence, one day he entreated the King his Father: seeing now he had peace with his enemies, that with his leave he might go seek adventures in great Britain, because he was loath to remain idle. But little pleasing was this request to the King, and much less to the Queen, yet by importunity he obtained permission for his voyage: nor could they all have power to withhold him, by reason of the love he bore to Oriana, which made him obedient to none but her. Hereupon, being clad in such Armour as he promised the damosel of Denmark, he set forward on his journey, embarking himself at the nearest Port of the Sea, where by good hap he found passage ready. Not long was his cut into great Britain, landing at Bristol, a most noble and ancient City of that country, where he heard that King Lisuart sojourned at Windsor, royally accompanied with Knights and Gentlemen: for all the Kings and Princes his neighbours, did highly favour and show him obeisance, which made Amadis shape his course directly to the Court. Not long had he ridden on the way, but he met with a damosel, who demanded of him, if that were her ready way to Bristol? Yea marry is it, answered the Prince. I pray ye then tell me, quoth she, if I may find any Shipping there, for my speedy passage over into Gaul? What affairs calls you thither? said Amadis. In sooth, replied the damosel, I go thither to find a Knight named Amadis, whom King Perion not long since hath known to be his Son. Greatly did Amadis marvel hereat, for he thought these news had not been so far spread abroad, wherefore he demanded how she heard thereof? I know it, quoth she, from her, to whom the most secret things of all are manifest: for she knew Amadis before he knew himself, or that his father heard of Amadis, and if you would understand what she is, her name (by common report) is Vrganda the unknown. She hath at this time especial affairs with him, and by no other can she recover that, which she now standeth in fear in lose. Believe me damosel, answered Amadis, seeing she who may command every one, doth now please to employ Amadis, I assure ye, it is needless for you to travail any further: for I am the man you are sent to seek, and therefore let us go whether you think convenient. What? said the damosel, are you Amadis? Yea verily am I, answered the Prince. Come then and follow me, quoth she, and I will conduct ye where my Mistress is, who attendeth your arrival in good devotion. herewith Amadis road after the damosel, and thus are they gone together in company.   

CHAP. XII. ¶ How the Giant bringing Galaor to King Lisuart, that he might dub him Knight: met with his brother Amadis, by whose hand he would be Knighted, and no other.  
THe Giant, of whom sundry times we have spoken heretofore, causing young Galaor to be instructed in managing Horses, and all other exercises beseeming a Knight: found him so capable of every thing, as in less space than a year he was grown marvelous perfect, so that now nothing remained but to know of him, by whom he most willingly would receive his order of Knighthood. Notwithstanding, before the Giant moved this matter to him, one day among other, Galaor came to him in this manner. Father, quoth he, you have daily promised me that I should be Knighted, I desire you would be so good as your word: for there is too much time spent since I ought to have had it. In soothe my Son, answered the Giant, you have reason for your words: yet tell me by whom you would receive your order? King Lisuart, quoth Galaor, is reputed a gentle Prince, and a right good Knight, wherefore if it so like you, I shall be contented to have it at his hand. Well have you advised, said the Giant: so presently preparing all things in order, they set forward on their journey. About five days after their departure, by good hap they came near a very fair & strong Castle, named Bradoid, seated on the top of a Mountain, environed about with fens or marshes, as also with a salt water, that ran before it wondrous swiftly, so that without a Bark it was impossible to get thither. And because the marish was very long, there was to pass over it a fair long causey, being so broad, as two Chariots might well meet together on it: and at the entrance of the causey was a draw bridge, where-under the water ran with such a violent fall, as no one was able by any means to pass it. Here must ye note, that equally facing this bridge, there grew two goodly high Elm trees, where▪ under the Giant and Galaor beheld two Damosels and a Squire, with a Knight mounted on a black Courser, this Knight was armed, bearing figured in his shield two Lions rampant: and because the bridge was drawn up, he could pass no further, but called with a loud voice to them within, that some should come to give him entrance, which Galaor perceiving, said to the Giant. My Lord, if it please you, I would gladly see what this Knight will do here. Soon after they espied at the further end of the causey by the Castle side, two other armed Knights, accompanied with ten Halberdiers, who came and demanded of the Knight, what he would? Marry enter in, answered the Knight. It may not be, said one of the two Knights, except you mean to combat first. I will not stick for that, answered he that would enter, cause you the bridge to be let down, and come to the combat: which presently they did. But one of the twain (more hasty than his companion) advanced himself first, and placing his Lance, ran with a swift career against the Knight, who received him so bravely, as he sent both horse and man to the ground. The friend to the dismounted Knight thinking to revenge his injury, gave forth to meet him, and failing in the attaint with their Lances, so furiously encountered with their bodies, as the Knight of the Castle fell into the water where he was drowned, and the conqueror road on, which the Halberdiers seeing, presently drew up the bridge again after him. When the Damosels saw he was thus▪ closed in, they cried aloud to him that he should return, and as he was about so to do: he espied three other Knights well armed coming toward him, who very audaciously thus spoke. Unhappy was the hour to thee when thou didst pass this bridge, for thou shalt die in this water, where he is drowned that was of greater reputation than thou art. herewith they all three together ran against him, and met him so firmly, as his Horse was like to have fallen over backward, yet having broken their Lances on him, he was at this encounter wounded in two places: nevertheless, one of them he met in such order, as his Armour being unable to resist the point of the Lance, pierced through with such violence, that the truncheon still remained in his body. This done, courageously he drew his sword, addressing himself to the other twain, and they in like manner against him, whereupon began a dangerous combat between them: but he with the Lions in his shield doubting his death, laboured so much as he could to overcome his enemies, giving one of them such a stroke on the right arm, as (being cut from his body) it fell sword and all to the ground: wherefore feeling himself thus wounded, he galloped with all speed to the Castle, crying. Help my friends, help your Lord who is in danger of killing. When the Knight of the Lions heard, that he with whom he must yet deal, was the Lord of the Castle, he delivered him such a rigorous blow on the Helmet, as made him lose his stirrups and ready to fall, had he not got hold about the neck of his Horse: in this staggering the Knight of the Lions rend his Helmet from his head, and he perceiving himself unarmed, thought to escape by flight as the other did, but his enemy got between him and the Castle, saying. Thou art dead, if thou yield not thyself my prisoner. Alas, answered the amazed Knight, I am dead in deed if you please: but as you are a Gentleman take pity on me, for I do yield myself your vanquished. Suddenly the Knight of the Lions looking about, espied other Knights and armed men on foot, that came in great haste from the Castle to secure their Lord: wherefore he stepped to his conquered prisoner, and holding his sword against his throat, said. Command thy men to return, else shalt thou presently die. Then he who saw his life in such peril, cried to them, and made a sign with his hand, that if they loved him they should return: where upon, they beholding their Lord's life at his enemies swords point, obeyed his command with all possible speed. Yet is not this enough, said the conqueror, cause now the bridge to be let down: which he did, and they came both forth on the causey where the Ladies tarried: but when the Knight of the Castle beheld them, and that one of them was Vrganda the unknown: Ah my Lord, quoth he, if you keep me not from this Lady, I am but dead. Nay believe me, answered the Knight, that will not I do, but rather am to deal with thee as she shall command me: then stepping to Vrganda, he said. Madame, see here the Lord of the Castle, what is your pleasure I shall do with him? Smite off his head, answered Vrganda, if he will not deliver you my friend whom he keepeth in prison. herewith he lift up his sword to fear him, when the Knight falling on his knee, cried: Ah my Lord, kill me not, I will obey what so ever she commandeth. Dispatch it quickly then, said the Knight of the Lions. So called the Lord to one of the Halberdiers within, saying: Go to my brother, and tell him if ever he intent to see me alive, let him quickly cause the imprisoned Knight to come hither, and the damosel that brought him with her. Right soon was the messenger gone on this errand, returning immediately with the damosel and the Knight, to whom the Knight of the Lions thus spoke. Thank this Lady who hath done so much for ye, and truly great cause you have to love her, in that she hath taken wonderful pains to deliver you from this thraldom. I do love her, answered the restored Knight, and so will continue better than I have done heretofore. But before he could finish these words, Vrganda ran and embraced him, the like did he to her: afterward the conqueror demanded, what should be done with her that brought him thither. It is necessary that she die, replied Vrganda, to let her know the price of so heinous an offence. Presently was the poor damosel so strangely enchanted, as she ran skipping over the marish quag-mires, and turning back again, would have thrown herself into the water, had not the Knight of the Lions entreated Vrganda, to pardon her trespass for this time. Provided, said Vrganda, that she return no more to offend me, otherwise she shall pay for all together. When the Lord of the Castle saw the damosel was remitted, at his request who overcame him, he thus spoke. My Lord, I have performed what hath been commanded, therefore I pray ye give me leave to departed from her that never loved me. In sooth, answered Vrganda, for honour of him by whom you make your suit, I am content, and you may return. He being gone, the Knight of the Lions (who yet marveled, by what occasion the damosel was driven into the fury) asked what moved her so to do? Ah my Lord, quoth she, me thought one came round about me, and would have burned me with a lighted torch, therefore to save myself, I sought to leap into the water. At these words the Knight fell into a laughter, saying. Your folly hath been overgreat, fair damosel, to work her ill who knows how to revenge it.  
Galaor stood and had seen all these things, whereupon he thus spoke to the Giant. Believe me father, I very much desire that this worthy man should give me my order, for if King Lisuart be renowned, it is for his possessions, but this Knight deserves it by his strength and valour. I am well content, answered the Giant, go and request it of him, if he deny you, the fault is his own. So Galaor went forward, accompanied with four Squires & two Damosels, when coming to the Knight of the Lions, he found him yet under the trees. At his arrival he was courteously received by the Knight, who reputed him one of the most comely Gentlemen that ever he had seen, afterward Gal●●● thus began. Gentle Sir, I am come to entreat a favour at your hand. Truly, answered the Knight, if your request be reasonable, it will the sooner be granted. My suit Sir, quoth Galaor, is for nothing else, but that it might please you to give me the order of Knighthood, and in so doing, you shall save me a great deal of travail to King Li●●●●●▪ to whom I am going for the same cause. My friend, replied the Knight, you shall do yourself over much wrong, to leave so good an occasion by the best King in the world, for so poor a Knight errant as I am. My Lord, quoth Galaor▪ the great state of the King can put no such strength ●nto me, as I have seen performed by you in the late Combats: therefore (so please it you) accomplish in me my earnest desire. I can be much better content, answered the Knight, to grant any other thing you will demand: for such authority appertaineth not to me, nor to you likewise is it so honourable. As thus they stood on these terms, Vrganda ●vnlooked for● came to them, wherewith the Knight of the Lions was very glad: and she having as yet not heard any of their talk, thus spoke to her champion. What is your opinion of this Gentleman? Me thinks, quoth he, a braver person was never seen: but he requireth such a thing of me, as is neither in him or me convenient. What is it? said Vrganda. That I, quoth he, should give him the order of Knighthood, and yet is he now in travail, with determination to request the same of the famous King Lisuart. Certainly, answered Vrganda, to make him stay, will be a greater cause of evil to him then good, & I will council him not to desist from his former motion: for you ought not to deny it him, seeing I can assure ye, that honour will be better employed by him, than any other in all the Isles of the Sea, except one. Seeing it is so, replied the Knight, in the name of God let it be done: go we then to some Church to perform the vigil. It shall be needless, quoth Galaor, to stand about such matters now, in that I come not unprovided of them already. It sufficeth then, answered the Knight: so put he on his right spur, and embracing him, said. You are now a Knight, wherefore take the honour of the sword by whom you shall think it more convenient. Do you then give it me, said Galaor, if you please, for by no other will I receive it with my will. Then he called a Squire that held a sword ready, but Vrganda stepped before, saying. No, no, you shall have a better: take that which hangeth on yonder tree, and you shall find it far more fair and good. Herewith they looked up on the tree, yet saw it not, wherefore they all began to smile, and she doing the like, said to them. In soothe it is almost ten years since it first was hanged there, yet no passenger by ever saw it: look better about the tree, for sure you cannot but easily behold it. Now did they all perceive it tied to a branch of the tree, even as though it had but even then been hanged there: and by it was a scabbard covered with gold, showing, most fine and curious workmanship on it. The Knight of the Lions took it down, and afterward girded it about Galaor, saying. So fair a sword beseemeth a Knight so formal, & think she hated ye not, who of so long time hath kept it for you. Most cheerfully did Galaor give her thanks, and the Knight likewise, thus speaking to them. I beseech ye to hold me excused, for I am constrained presently to departed from ye, and were it not I must go where I am attended, no company in the world would I desire more than yours: therefore I desire ye Sir, to tell me where I may find ye at my return. In the Court of King Lisuart, answered the Knight, where I shall be very glad to see you: and because it is no long time since I was Knighted, I am the more desirous of some abode there to attain honour, as you cannot choose but do the like if you come thither. Certes, said Galaor, to that place will I shortly follow ye: and Madame, quoth he to Vrganda, you have so strictly bound me to your service, as may it please you to account me your Knight, I am ready wheresoever you shall command me. So departed he from them, returning to the Giant who stayed for him by the river side, where he had hid himself lest he should be seen.  
But now you must here observe, that as Galaor thus devised with Vrganda and the Knight, one of the Damosels that was in galaor's company, had conference with her that attended on Vrganda, of whom at large she understood, how the Knight of the Lions was Amadis, Son to King Perion of Gaul: whose coming thither Vrganda had caused, to deliver by force of arms her friend that there was kept prisoner, for by enchantment she could not compass it, by reason the Lady of the castle was too cunning in that art, and there had first enchanted him in despite of her, fearing no way to lose him again but by Knightly chivalry. On this occasion the custom there was appointed, which Amadis ended, and restored (as you have heard) the man for whom they came thither: and he by the damosel, Niece to the Lady of the Castle, that in enchanted fury would have leapt into the river, was conducted to this place.  
So soon as Galaor had left Vrganda, she demanded of Amadis, if he knew the man to whom he gave the order of Knighthood. No truly Madame, quoth he. In forth, answered Vrganda, it is great reason you should know what he is: for he beareth so brave a mind, the if you both should meet without further knowledge, there might happen between ye great inconvenience. Therefore I give ye to understand, how he is your own brother both by father & mother, and the very same whom the Giant carried away, being then but two years old and a half: now he is of so goodly stature as you have seen, for whose sake and yours likewise, I have a long time kept the Sword, wherewith (I assure ye) he shall do more in exploits of Arms, than ever any Knight did in great Britain. Amadis conceived hereat such inward joy, as the tears trickled down his cheeks, wherefore he said to Vrganda. I beseech ye Madame, tell me where I may find him. It is not necessary, quoth she, that as yet you should seek him. Why? said Amadis, is he then constrained to accomplish some predestinate matter, before I may find him? Yea verily, answered Vrganda, and it is not so easy to know as you may imagine. Long time thus continued their conference, till Vrganda would departed alone with her friend: so she commended Amadis to God, who presently took his way toward Windsor, where at this time King Lisuart sojourned.  
Our History at this time pauseth of him, continuing what happened to Galaor the new Knight, w●● being arrived where the Giant stayed for him, thus spoke. Father, I am now thanks be to God and him you sent me to, a confirmed Knight. My Son, quoth the Giant, I am not a little glad thereof: and seeing it is so well effected, will ye grant me one request? What? said Galaor, am I to deny you any thing, except you would withhold me from seeking honour? My Son, answered the Giant, I rather desire thy happy proceeding therein, & that which I would have appertaineth thereto. Demand then what you will, said Galaor, for I grant it. Fair Son, quoth the Giant, heretofore you have heard me complain of the Giant Albadan, who by treason slew my father, and yet forcibly detaineth from me the Rock of Galteres, which justly doth belong to me. I pray ye to take revenge on my behalf, for no other than you may do it: remember how well I have nourished and used you, as also my true and unfeigned love, which is such, as I will yield my person even to the death for safety of yours. This matter, said Galaor, you need not request, but command me to do it: as for myself, I desire ye to rest content, till with Albadan I have tried this difference, seeing it concerneth you so near. Beside, hereof you may be persuaded, that if I escape with life, I shall continue evermore in readiness, to accomplish any thing else for your honour and profit: in which devoir, the whole circuit of my time is bound, as witness of the duty I own to you, therefore without any longer trifling, let us set forward to him with whom I must try my fortune. So took they the way to the Rock of Galteres, but before they had travailed far, Vrganda overtook them, and being acquainted with each other, she said to Galaor. Know ye (gentle Sir) who hath this day made you Knight? That do I Madame, answered Galaor, even the best Knight that ever I heard of. It is very true, quoth she, yet is he of greater esteem than you think, but I would have you to know his name: then called she Gandalaz the Giant, saying. Gandalaz, dost not thou know that this Knight whom thou hast nourished, is Son to King Perion and his Queen Elisena, and how by such like words I bade thee take him, since which time thou hast been his foster father? It is very true, answered the Giant. Now than Galaor my friend, said Vrganda, the man that made thee Knight is thy brother, and elder than thou by two years: wherefore when thou seest him, give him honour, and labour to resemble him in hardiness and kindship. May it be possible? replied Galaor, that King Perion is my father, and Queen Elisena my mother, and I the brother to so good a Knight? Doubt not thereof, quoth she, for it is so. Praised be God, said Galaor, now may I assure ye that I am in greater care than before: nor will I make any spare of my life, seeing it is necessary I should resemble him you talk of. Thus returned Vrganda the same way she came, and the Giant with Galaor road on as they purposed, the Prince demanding of the Giant, what the Lady was that had communed with them? It is, quoth he, Vrganda the unknown, as she nameth herself, because she often transformeth and maketh herself unknown. As thus they devised together, they came to a river side where they would refresh themselves, and by reason the heat of the day was very vehement, they caused a Tent to be erected: where long they had not sitten, but they beheld two Damsels coming toward them by two several ways, and met together directly before the pavilion. So soon as they espied the Giant, they would have fled, but Galaor came to assure them, and courteously caused them to return, demanding afterward whether they travailed. I go, quoth one of them, by the commandment of my mistress, to see a strange fight, which one only Knight hath enterprised in combat, against the strong Giant at the Rock of Galteres, to the end I may bring her true tidings thereof. When the other damosel heard her say so, she thus replied. I am amazed at your speeches, is there any Knight in the world dare venture on such folly? Certes, said the first, it is most true. Believe me, answered the other, although my occasions be elsewhere, I am content to stay and go with you, to see a matter so incredible. Hereupon they would have taken leave of Galaor, but he said to them. Make no haste fair Damosels, but tarry if you please, and we will bear ye company: whereto they condescended, as well for the good grace they noted in this new Knight, as also in respect of his amiable countenance, which made them take great pleasure in beholding him: then Galaor walking with the Giant aside, said, Father, I could wish that you would go no further with us, but let me go with these Damosels to accomplish what I have promised: this he spoke, because he would not be known what he was, or that his enterprise should be suspected by them, whereto the Giant (unwillingly) did accord. So road Galaor with the Damosels, and three Squires the Giant left him to bear his Armour, making such speed in their journey, that they arrived within two miles of the Rock of Galteres, where they lodged in the little cottage of an Hermit, to whom Galaor imparted some of his secret thoughts: but when he revealed that he came for the combat, the good Hermit (abashed thereat) discoursed with him in this manner. My Son, who hath advised thee to this boldness, seeing there is not in all this country ten such Knights, as dare assail the Giant, so fearful and monstrous is he to behold: and you being but young, to hazard yourself in this danger, adventure the loss both of body and soul, because such as wilfully seek their own death, are very homicides of themselves. Father, answered Galaor, God work his will with me, for by no means may I let pass mine enterprise. Greatly was the good man moved to compassion, so that the tears bedewed his milk-white beard, being able to make no other answer, but thus: If not my Son, I desire God to assist ye, seeing you will give no better credit to me. Good Father, quoth Galaor, be mindful of me in your devout prayers: and thus till next morning they spent the night.  
Galaor having armed himself, went to the Rock which was not far from the Hermitage, for there might be easily discerned the fortress and great towers, which delivered good mark of a most strong Castle. When one of the Damsels saw they approached so near, she demanded of Galaor, if he knew the Knight that should perform the Combat? I think, quoth he, I have seen him sometime: but tell me I pray ye, from what place are you come to behold this pastime, and what is the Lady that sent you? None must know so much, said the damosel, but the Knight himself which dealeth in the Combat. Thus continued their talk, till they arrived at the Castle of Albadan, the gate whereof they found fast shut, but Galaor stepping thereto, called the Porter: at which noise, two men showed themselves over the porch, demanding of him what he would have. Go, quoth Galaor, and say to Albadan, that here is a Knight, who is sent from Gandalaz to defy him: and if he come not forth the sooner, he will show himself of less valour than reputation. You have reason, said one of them in mockage, but he will quickly bring a remedy for your choler, if you do not help it yourself by running away. So departed the watchmen to inform the Giant of these news, and when the Damosels understood, that Galaor himself must execute the enterprise, being terrified with amazement, they said. Ah my Lord, you attempt a matter of overmuch folly, would God you might speed so well, as with honour to accomplish an enterprise of such consequence: As for me, quoth one of them, I dare tarry no longer with ye, for I shall die at the sight of the Monster with whom you have to deal. Damosels, said he, seeing you may not be assured here, depart I pray ye to the Hermitage where we lodged this last night, and if I die not in fight, I will not be long from ye. Believe me, replied the other damosel, whatsoever happen I will not go, for I determine to see the end. The boldness of the one made them both tarry, yet did they sunder themselves by the Forest side, because the Giant should not see them, and hoping the better to escape away if the Knight sped not well.   

CHAP. XIII. ¶ How Galaor vanquished the Giant at the Rock of Galteres.  
Soon was the Giant advertised of these news, wherefore not long after he came forth of the Castle, mounted on a horse proportionable to such a huge body: for it seemed an Elephant, and he on his back made ample resemblance of a huge Colossus, or like a mountain moving, rather than a man. Armed he was in plates of iron so long, as from his throat they covered all the saddle on the horse, having on his head a bright shining helmet, and in his hand a mighty iron Mace, being the weapon wherewith he commonly used to fight. Wonderfully afraid were the Squires and the Ladies that beheld him, and Galaor was not so assured, but he stood somewhat abashed: notwithstanding, he resolved so courageously, as the nearer he approached, the less account he made of his huge enemies Mace. When the Giant saw him come marching so bravely toward him, he said. I marvel demie man, how thou darest with such boldness tarry thy death: he that sent thee hither might either borrow thy courage, or thou his corpulence, but he intended I should break my fast, before the hour of dinner came. Galaor somewhat discontented with these despisings, thus answered. Thinkest thou huge beast that thy barking can advantage thee, or hinder me? my confidence is in him who abated the pride of the great Philistine, and can likewise deliver thee more base & vile than the dust. exceeding angry was the Giant at these words, wherefore without any more talk he lifted up his Mace to strike, seeming in his marching as though a Tower had been carried about, but Galaor being prompt and nimble, stooped his Lance, and with a rough career of his horse, attainted him on the stomach so bravely, as he caused the mighty Poliphemus forego one of his stirrups, his Lance therewith shivering in pieces in the air. At this encounter the Giant thought to have strooken him down with his Mace, but he was too roughly & suddenly stayed, whereby his blow was given in vain: for the Mace which was heavy, and comparable to a huge beam in bigness, being delivered with full force of both his arms: fell down so weightily, as the Giant himself was not able to hold it, whereby it lighted on the head of his own horse so peazantly, as being field therewith, died presently under him, the Giant tarrying a good while before he could recover himself again. Yet the horse being of courage, did often strive to get up, but Galaor thrusting his Sword into his belly, caused him at length to lie there still enough: but in the end, the Giant did the like to galaor's horse, and he seeing in what great danger now he was, by his wunted dexterity quickly got footing▪ Than approaching his enemy, drew the Sword Vrganda had given him, wherewith (watching when the Giant lifted his Mace) he gave such a stroke at it where he held his hands, as breaking the stock in pieces, he left but little length for the Giant to hold it by: yet he made shift to buffet Galaor therewith in such sort, as he was constrained to set one hand to the ground to sustain himself. But all this did no jot astonnish him, for coming to the Giant, (who yet kept play with the remainder of his mace, which by wary escapes the Prince still prevented) he gave a stroke at him with so full force, as: clean cut away the left arm from his shoulder, and the sword passing further with like strength, met the Giant's leg so directly, that it wounded him through the flesh, with a wide gaping wound to the very bone. Feeling great pain by both these maims, he cried out aloud: Ah unhappy wretch that I am, to be thus overcome by the strength of one man. Being in extreme rage, he sought to fasten hold on the body of Galaor, but the sore wound on his leg would let him stand no longer, constraining him to fall on his knees to the ground: and as the Prince approached to him, he thought with his other arm to pull him down, but Galaor perceiving his intent, struck at him again and smote off his hand. Now was the Giant despoiled of all force, being so wounded and over-travailed withal, that he was no longer able to endure: by which means Galaor more easily parted his head from his shoulders, which he delivered his Squires to ●ary with him. When the Damosels beheld this famous conquest, they left their ambush, and came to regard this marvel, saying to Galaor. In sooth worthy Knight, great good nurture hath been bestowed on you by your educator: for as we have heretofore heard, he hath the profit & vengeance, and you the honour exceeding all.  
As they were about to return, they saw ten Knights come forth of the Castle chained together, who cried to him. Come my Lord, come take this place, seeing you have done him dead that so miserably detained us prisoners. What think you? said Galaor to the Damosels, may we sojourn here this afternoon? Truly, quoth they, we think nothing to the contrary. So went they into the Castle, where Galaor discharged the prisoners: and soon after, viands for dinner was brought him & his company by the servants. When they had refreshed themselves, and at their pleasure visited the fortress, the subjects inhabiting the Rock came all to him, & would have done him honour as to their Lord: but he by no means would accept thereof, for he told them that what he had done, was on the behalf of Gandalaz, to whom that place by right appertained. And I, quoth he, as bound to him by duty, came hither to prepare his lodging: therefore I pray ye that he may be well received of you all, and obey him as your true and natural Lord, for well am I assured, that he will entreat you with love and gentleness. These requests were presently answered by one for them all, who said. Hither shall he be most heartily welcome, because we hope, that he to whom we shall be vassals and subjects, will cherish and favour us: in stead whereof, the other used us as villains & slaves, and you (being the conqueror) we hold for our only deliverer. All things thus debated & accorded, Galaor departed thence with his company, returning to the Hermitage, where the Hermit attended for happy news: but he was not a little glad to see Galaor come with such success, wherefore he thus spoke. My Son, daily are you bound to praise the divine bounty, whose love hath given you grace to execute this notable vengeance. On the morrow, after he had received the good man's benediction, he set forward on his way, & one of the Damosels entreated him, that he would suffer her to travail in his company, whereto right willingly he gave consent. And I, quoth the other, must take another way, in that I had not come thus far, but only to behold the issue of the combat, which I have seen with such content, as I must needs make commendable report thereof to other, and so shall I not fail to do in the Court of King Lisuart, whether now I go to find a brother of mine gone thither before me. Fair Damsel, answered Galaor, if you meet a young Knight, who beareth in his shield a couple of Lions, I pray ye say to him, that the Gentleman, to whom not long since he gave the order of Knighthood, doth humbly salute him, adding this withal, how he endeavoureth to honour the order, & when they both shall meet, he will acquaint him such matter between them, as yet perhaps he knoweth not. So took the Damsel her leave of Galaor, who afterward thus begun to commune with the other. You know Lady, that I have finished the combat with the Giant, and you said to me before I began it, how the Knight himself should know what she is that sent you thither. Very true, answered the Damsel, but if you would be resolved therein, follow me, and within five days I will show you her. That shall not let me, said Galaor: thus road they on together so long, till at length they came to a forked way, and Galaor who rid mu●ing before, thought she had followed him: but she arrested behind a little, and when she hoped to overtake him again, it was her hap to take the wrong way. This chanced at the entrance of the forest of Braganda, which severeth the countries of Claire and Gresca, where long he had not erred, but he heard a voice thus calling to him: Ah good Knight, help me. Galaor turning his head to see what was the cause: I think, quoth one of his Squires, it should be the damosel that departed from us. What? said Galaor, hath she left us? Yea truly, answered the Squire, she took the way leading on the left hand. Believe me, quoth he, I had very little care of her: & hastily without taking his helmet, having only his shield and Lance, he galloped so fast as he could to the place where he heard the voice, and hard at hand he espied five men on foot, armed with corselets and Halberds, and a Dwarf on horseback, who cruelly laid on the damosel with a staff. When Galaor approached near them, he came to the Dwarf, saying. Thou villainous and deformed creature, soon shall I send thy soul to the Devil: and running fiercely against him with his Lance, threw him against the ground marvelously amazed. Then came the other eagerly upon him, compassing him on every side: but to the first he gave such a greeting with his Lance, as he lay sprawling along on the earth. An other of them buckled close to him, laying load on his shield with his Halberd, but at length he pierced his Lance quite through his body. When the other three saw this massacre, they ran away so fast as they could overthwart the Forest, and Galaor not able to overtake them, returned back again to the Dwarf, who being gotten on horseback, fled away after the other, crying. Accursed Knight, in hapless hour hast thou thus misused my men, for thou shalt die an evil death. Galaor seeing the Dwarf laboured so hard to save himself, would follow him no further, but went to see if his Lance were unbroken, which he had left in the body of the dead man: and finding it sound as it was before, gave it to his Squire, saying to the damosel. Ride now before me, and I will guard ye better than I have done.  
So took they the way again they had left, that brought them to a River named Braz, which could not be passed at the f●rd: now road the damosel somewhat far before Galaor, finding the passage so ready, as she went over before he came. In mean while he stayed the return of the boat, he espied the Dwarf come after him crying: Uillainous traitor thou art dead, if thou deliver not the damosel thou tookest from me. Little account did Galaor make of his words, but looking back, he saw three Knights come after the Dwarf well mounted, one of the three thus speaking to the rest. It were great dishonour for us, to set all three together upon one man: and as for myself, I think scorn to be assisted by any. Having so said, with a full course he ran against the Prince, who likewise was ready to entertain him, and they encountered in such sort, as the Knight pierced galaor's Armour, making him feel the naked point of his Lance: but Galaor bade him so bravely welcome, casting him from his saddle with such might, as he lay on the ground not able to stir, whereat the other twain were so abashed, that they ran both together against the Prince, the one failing, and the other breaking his Lance: which Galaor determining to revenge, struck his Lance into the sight of the last Knight's Helmet, as he made it fall from his head, and he (having lost his stirrups) ready to lie along. Mean while, the second who had not broken, returned against Galaor, and sped in meeting. Now albeit the encounter was with great vigour, yet escaped the Armour on either side. Having thus gallantly shivered their staves, they drew forth their Swords, beginning a fierce and cruel combat: and while the fight endured, the Dwarf without ceasing cried to his men: Look well that he escape not, but kill him lest he get away. Then Galaor coming near him who had lost his Helmet, reached him such a stroke on the head, as he tumbled down dead before him. And when the third saw his companion slain, being afraid of himself, he turned his back and away: but Galaor pursued him so near, that he gave him a blow between the neck and the shoulders, which brought off a great many plates of his Armour. Now did the runaways fear more and more increase, when he felt his enemy so near at hand, wherefore the better to save himself, he cast his shield back over his shoulders, and fled away faster than he did before: which Galaor perceiving, would follow him no longer, but hastily returned, thinking to take the Dwarf and bind his legs to a tree, from which the Dwarf kept himself well enough, for he had gotten more ground in running away then the other. Here, upon he came to the first that he dismounted, who having somewhat recovered himself, Galaor thus spoke to him. In soothe your misfortune grieveth me more than your fellows doth, for like a good Knight you came alone to me, albeit I know not on what occasion, in respect I never offended ye as I remember. It is very true, answered the Knight, notwithstanding you must not● what the Dwarf said to us: how you had beaten him, slain his men, & taken a Lady perforce from him that was in his company. Believe me quoth Galaor, (showing him the damosel on the other side of the River,) he falsely lied, and were it that I had brought her away perforce, she would not tarry for me so willingly as she doth: but she unhappily straying in this Forest, the Dwarf met with her, offering to lead her away against her will, and because she would not obey him, he gave her many cruel strokes with a staff. Ah traitor that he is, answered the Knight, for this villainy shall I reward him if ever we meet again. And because Galaor found the Knight in so good sort, he holp to take his horse that had escaped: desiring him to punish the Dwarf for his treason. This done, he entered the boat and past the water, afterward he and the damosel road on their way, she showing him soon after a Castle near at hand, which stood very bravely on the top of a Mountain, saying. Here will be the best lodging we shall find this night: and alighting from their horses, they were entertained there with marvelous courtesy, it being the dwelling of the Damosels mother. Soon after was the Prince unarmed, and then the damosel came to him in this manner. To the end (my Lord) I may keep promise with ye, if you please to stay here till I return, which credit me shall be very speedily: I will bring ye news of her whom you desire to see. I am content, answered Galaor, provided that you make no tarriance, because I have affairs of importance elsewhere. Let it suffice, replied the damosel, you shall see me again sooner than you imagine. And so she departed, using such diligence, as Galaor was not displeased with her stay. At her return, they mounted on horseback, and road together cross the Forest, which when they left, the night overtook them: whereupon the damosel forsaking the outright way, turned aside, and by time the greater part of the night was spent, they arrived at a very fair City named Grandares', where coming to a Castle gate, the damosel said. Now let us alight, and follow me, for here will I show you her I promised: but leave not your weapons and Armour, because one can scant tell what may happen. The damosel went before, and Galaor followed her till they came near the wall. Get up here, said the damosel, and I will go on the other side to attend you. With much ado he ascended the wall, by reason of his weighty Armour, as also being troubled with his Shield and Helmet. When the damosel saw he was amounted, she entered the Palace to guide him as she had begun: in mean while Galaor was descended, and sat hard by a postern that entered a Garden, where he tarried so long, till the damosel came and opened the door with one of her companions, but ere he entered, they thus spoke. Although you have attained thus far, yet before you pass any further, you must needs tell us whose Son you are. Let that alone answered Galaor, for I have such a Father, as till the time of better hap, I am content not to name him. Nevertheless, quoth one of them, it is very necessary we should know, for it shall not be any way to your hindrance. I am, answered Galaor, Son to King Perion of Gaul and the Queen Elisena, and it is not sire days past since I could not tell ye so much. Stay then, said the damosel: so they caused him to be unarmed, casting a mantle about his shoulders, and afterward went on, the first damosel going before, and the other coming behind him. In this manner they entered the Palace, passing through a chamber, where many Ladies and Gentlewomen were in bed: and if any one demanded who went by so late, the Damosels his guides made answer for him. Thus not perceived by any, they came to another chamber, wherein when Galaor entered, he saw sitting on a gorgeous bed a most beautiful Lady, with an ivory comb kembing her fair locks: but when she espied. Galaor, she presently cast on her head a chaplet of flowers, and came to receive him whom the Damosels had brought, saying. My friend, you are right heartily welcome, being the best Knight in the world that I know. And you Madame, quoth he, are most happily found, being the fairest Lady that ever I saw. Then the damosel that had guided him thither, thus spoke. My Lord, see here my mistress, now am I discharged of the promise I made ye, and if you would have me say any more: she is named Aldena, daughter to King Serolys, and because the wife to the Duke of Bristoya, is Sister to her mother, she nourisheth her here as her own daughter. And you Madame, quoth she to the young Princess, have here present (as I can assure ye) the Son to King Perion of Gaul: wherefore you being both the children of Kings, excelling in beauty and nature's perfections, if you love together no one dare blame ye. herewith she went presently forth of the chamber, and making fast the door after her, left the two lovers alone: by which means they spent this night so amorously, as they that have tasted like fortune may conceive, and therefore need I make no further talk thereof.  
But the hour being come when Galaor should departed, he was warily advised thereof by the Damosels, who brought him to the place where overnight he had left his armour: and after he was invested therein as he ought to be, he went along the Garden again wherethrough he came in. And as never any good chanceth, without some mishap attending thereon, so now came it to pass: for there found he the Dwarf ambushed, that had so misused him before, as you have heard, who no sooner espied him, but he cried out. Believe me Sir Roister, unwise waist thou to enter here, for thou diest, and the traitress that did conduct thee. Come forth Knights, come forth, here is a man that secretly came from out the Duke's chamber. It was no time then for Galaor to sleep, but lightly getting up the wall, cast himself on the other side, where finding his horse ready, he presently mounted: notwithstanding, the Dwarf and the rest well acquainted with the secret issues of the Castle, with all speed pursued him, and perceiving how this villainous Dwarf was cause of all this trouble, stayed, saying to himself. Either I will die, or be revenged on this ridiculous creature if I catch him. Then came the other and set upon him, but so bravely did he defend himself, as none of them durst be bold to tarry near him: for he being moved to exceeding impatience, thrust himself in the midst among them, laying about with courage, as well they found who they dealt withal. Galaor seeing the Dwarf still kept aloof, determined to die but he would lay hold on him, and entering among the thickest of them, before his Lance broke he slew two outright: then drawing his Sword, made them so sound acquainted with the sharp edge thereof, as he that thought himself hardiest, was glad to give him way, for no one meddled with him but was laid along. At length they compassed him in such sort, as they found means to kill his horse, which made him fall to the ground in very great danger, for now they verily intended to murder him, and the Dwarf persuading himself that he could not escape, came near to show some part of his manhood: but when he saw Galaor had in spite of them recovered his feet, and happy was he which kept furthest from him, he turned his horse to escape away, yet by chance Galaor got hold on the reins of his bridle, giving him such a blow on the stomach with the hilts of his Sword, that he fell to the ground so loutishly, as the blood gushed forth at all the conduits of his head. Then lightly mounted he on the dwarfs horse, and the Beast seeming to storm at this change, from an evil favoured Dwarf to one of the best Knights in the world, made proof whether his rider could sit fast or no, running violently with him a good distance from his enemies. And turning to make an end of his work, as by chance he lifted his eyes to the Castle, he saw in one of the windows the Lady whom he had chosen as his friend, she shaking a white handkerchief to him, meaning he should be gone with all possible speed, which he did, because he perceived more enemies at hand. With nimble pace he hied him away, not tarrying till he recovered the Forest, where to refresh himself awhile, he gave his Helmet to his Squire.  
Now shall ye understand, how when the Duke's Knights saw him make such haste away, some were of the opinion to follow him, the rest said it was in vain, seeing he had gotten into the wood, and thus debating, they went no further, but stood as men confounded, with marveling how one man could be able to vanquish so many. Mean while the Dwarf was come to himself again, but he felt his body so sore and bruised, as very hardly could he stand on his feet, yet still he cried to them in this manner. My friends, carry me to my Lord the Duke, for I will let him know what he must needs revenge. Through these importunate acclamations, he was brought by them before the Duke, to whom he declared, how he met the damosel in the Forest, and because he would have accompanied her home, she cried out till a Knight came to aid her, who killed his men, & beat him likewise very cruelly. Afterward, how he followed him again with three Knights to have her from him, and they in like manner were discomfited. Lastly, that she brought the same Knight to his honour's Castle, and suffered him to be with her in the Dukes own chamber. The Duke being highly offended hereat, demanded if he knew the damosel he thus complained on. Yea my Lord, quoth the Dwarf, if I see her again. Hereupon all the Ladies and Gentlewomen were sent for, and so soon as the Dwarf beheld her, he said. This is she (my Lord) by whom your Palace is dishonoured. Ah Traitor, answered the damosel, thou liest falsely, for had not the Knight come to rescue me in the Forest, thou wouldst have abused me: and villainously didst beat me, because I would not consent to thee. Very much incensed with anger was the Duke against the damosel, and said to her. By mine honour (false woman) I will make thee to reveal the truth. Afterward he sent her to close prison, yet notwithstanding all the pain she endured, she would not discover any thing touching her ladies secrets, albeit she was there very long tormented: to the no little grief and sorrow of Aldena that dearly loved her, and knew not by any other how to understand of her Galaor. But the Author thinking he hath kept ye too long from Amadis, returneth to him: intending when place and matter shall serve, to finish that which afterward happened to Galaor.   

CHAP. XIIII. ¶ How after Amadis departed from Vrganda the unknown he arrived at a Castle, where it chanced to him as you shall read in this discourse.  
GReat joy had Amadis at his departure from Vrganda, as well for understanding that the man whom he had Knighted was his own Brother, as also because he approached near the place where his Oriana sojourned, hoping ere long to have a sight of her. And so long travailed he through a Forest where into he had entered, as he was surprised with dark night, before he could find any house for lodging, yet notwithstanding the obscurity of the night, he espied in the wood a great fire: wherefore he road thitherward, and by the way chanced on a fair Fortress, as he gathered by the lights he beheld through the glass windows, and coming near thereto, he heard the voices of men and women singing, tunable to sweet Music that consorted with them. When he came to the gate, he knocked and called for some to open it: but the harmony of the Music, and other noise in the Castle, made such hindrance, as he was not heard. Notwithstanding, he still more loud knocked and called, till certain came and peeped forth at small crevices in the gate, and seeing him, one of them demanded what he would have there so late. Sir, answered Amadis, I am a strange Knight that seeks for lodging. Strange? quoth he within the Castle, it appeareth so by thy language, but more by thy manner of walking so late: our countrymen desire the day time, and thou shunnest it, fearing to be seen, or lest thou shouldest have occasion to combat, and at such an hour as this is, none travail the way except they be Devils. Believe me, answered Amadis, little courtesy do you know or show, that use these words, seeing without further knowledge what I am, you not only rebuke but condemn me: and I think if you are possessed either with sense or manhood, you have sometime been in like distress as I am, and having found it in yourself, never reprove it in an other. Thou mayst make trial thereof if thou wilt, quoth he in the Castle: but get thee walking, for here shalt thou set no foot this night. Now trust me, said Amadis, I think thou wouldst have no man of value in thy company: yet before we part, I am desirous to know what thou art. That will I tell thee, quoth the other, on this condition, that when so ever we meet, thou shalt combat with me. I will not stick for that, answered Amadis. Know then, said he within, how I am Dardan, who commands thee not to stray so far this night, but that I may find thee to morrow morning. Thou vauntest of thyself very much, quoth Amadis, but if thou wilt cause Torches be brought hither to give us light, and come forth presently without longer stay: we shall soon see who ought to have the worse lodging this night. What? said Dardan, to combat with an Owl, the enemy of the day, must I bring Torches, and this night take Arms? unwise is he, that so late to gain such simple honour, will either put on Spur or Cuyrate: and with these words he went from the gate.  
Here may the Reader by himself discourse awhile, what fruit over-braining commonly bringeth with it, and contrariwise, what perfection (among all other virtues) is in modesty. No well grounded courage, or gallant disposed body, can duly put in exercise the benefit of the one or other, if moderation and temperance be not their guides therein. And albeit valiance & hardiness is a great gift of God: yet are they so pernicious in such as have them, (who are transported with passions, or the glory of ambition,) as they be even no better than cowardice and presumption. Eloquence, and the faculty of well speaking, is a rich and precious gift of nature, augmented and increased by long use and study, to give light and decking to the fair conceptions of the spirit: but it is there a more hurtful pestilence in a common wealth, then when a well spoken Orator will misuse his art and sweetness of language? Have not some been known to persuade simple people, to enterprise things which afterward have brought their ruin and subversion? I leave the confidence of the wise, and the opinitive in their own beauty, the one procuring to many the loss of their souls, and the other to infinite number the destruction of honour: so hurtful in all things is too much usurpation of overweening, and immoderate estimation of ourselves. I will not here compare the wisdom of Ulysses, with the arrogancy of furious Ajax, or the violence of Turnus, with the temperance of Aeneas: nor make other remonstrances by the success of great matters, happening to mighty personages both Greeks and Latins. It shall content me, to set for example this only accident of indiscreet Dardan, to the end that young Gentlemen, who take delight to read this History: seeing on ●he one side the patient magnanimity of Amadis, and on the other the furious brutality of Dardan, may propose the virtues to be imitated, and the vices to be detested and punished.  
Amadis then somewhat displeased with the outrageous speeches of Dardan, departed, not so much caring for his lodging, as how to be revenged: and concluded, sometime in walking about, and other while in resting by a bush, to pass the incommodity of this night in the Forest, thus to beguile the time till day rising. As there he traced up and down, he heard the speech of some body near him, and looking about, espied two Damosels on horseback accompanied with a Squire: after they had saluted him, and he them, they demanded from whence he came so late armed, wherewith Amadis thoroughly reported, all that had happened to him at the Castle. Know you, said the Damosels, the name of the Knight? That do I, quoth he, for he told me his name is Dardan. Very true, said they, he is called Dardan the proud, the most audacious Knight in this country. I believe it well, answered Amadis. Sir Knight, quoth they, seeing you are so unprovided of lodging, if you will take patience to remain this night in our Tents, which are pitched here hard at hand, you shall be welcome. He glad of this courtesy, road with them, and being there alighted, Amadis caused his Squire to unarm him. When the Damosels saw him so fair, and of such honest conversation, they were well pleased with his company: and so they supped together merrily, afterward they gave him a pallad to rest upon. Nevertheless, before they parted, they demanded of him whether he travailed. To the Court of King Lisuart, answered Amadis. And so do we, replied the Damosels, to see what shall happen to a Lady, one of the best and most noble in the Country, who hath committed her welfare to the trial of a Combat, and it must be within few days following be performed before King Lisuart: but yet we know not who will be the man, for he against whom the cause must be defended, is one of the best Knights in all great Britain. What is, said Amadis, the Knight so much esteemed, especially among so many good? It is the same Dardan, answered the Damsels, from whom so lately you came. And on what cause, said Amadis, ariseth the Combat? I pray ye (fair Ladies) if you know, let me understand it. Sir, quoth one of them, this Dardan loveth a Knight's daughter of the Country, who at his second nuptials married her. I am to speak of: now hath this damosel the beloved of Dardan, conceived such hatred against her fair mother, that she hath said to her friend, how she will never love him, except he bring her to King Lisuarts Court, and there openly maintain, that all the poor ladies goods appertaineth to her, and if any one gainsay it, he to justify the same in combat. These news were highly pleasing to Amadis, for by these means he intended to compass occasion, to be revenged of the wrong he did him: and that in the presence of Oriana, who should there perceive what her Knight was, which made him enter into such thoughts, as the Damosels well noting it, one of them thus spoke. I pray ye Sir, for courtesy, acquaint us with the reason of your sudden musing, if it may without offence be known. Fair Ladies, answered Amadis, if you will promise me as loyal Gentlewomen, to keep it secret and reveal it to no one, willingly shall I tell ye: all which they solemnly swore to perform. I intent (quoth he) to combat for the Dame you spoke of, and mind not to fail: but I would have it concealed from any but yourselves. When they heard what he said, they were much abashed, notwithstanding they made great esteem of him: seeing what they had uttered in praise of Dardan, could not affray him, but he would hazard the combat, and therefore she that already had broken the matter, thus replied Gentle Sir, your intent proceedeth from a high resolved mind, and we will pray for your prosperous success. So gave they each other the good night, and went to rest till the morning, when they dislodged together. Then entreated the Damosels, that seeing he went to the same place they did, and in the Forest kept men of evil haviour: therefore he would not forsake their company, whereof he made them promise.  
Along they ride with sundry discourse, where among other talk, they desired, in respect they met so happily together, that he would be content to let them know his name. My name, quoth he, is Amadis, but I pray ye keep it only to yourselves. Proceeding on by vast and unfrequented places, one day, when furthest they were from doubt, they beheld before them under a tree, two armed Knights prepared for the joust: who seeing them coming, stepped into the midst of the way, the one saying to his companion. Which of these two Damosels wouldst thou have, and the other I mean to take myself? I will, said the other, have the first. And I her companion, answered the other: so without more words they came to lay hands on them. Amadis, who misliked such dealing, without the Damosels consent, addressed himself to the Knights: demanding what manner of behaviour this was, to Ladies coming from honest place? Such, quoth they, as beseemeth women of their age. What? answered Amadis, would you then force them? Who shall let us, quoth they, if we please? Marry that will I replied Amadis: then lacing his Helmet, he took his Shield and Lance, saying. Let the Damosels alone you shameless men, and defend yourselves. Without any more talk they gave the spurs to their horses, meeting together with such puissance, as the Knight broke his Lance, and Amadis gave him such an attaint, that he carried him from his horse to the ground, with his head under, and his heels upward breaking the laces of his helmet in the fall, so that his head remained without shelter. When the other saw his companion down, he would revenge him, and couching his Lance against Amadis, met him so full, as piercing his Armour, wounded him a little, and his Staff was shivered all in pieces: but the Prince failing with his Lance, encountered him so fiercely with his body and horse, as he lay tumbling hard by his fellow, then coming to the Damsels, he said. I pray ye hereafter come no more behind, but for your better surety keep ye before. Awhile he tarried to see if they would rise again, but perceiving they made no show thereof, he forbore to charge them any further, and so road on with his company. Soon after they came to a fair plain, whereby a pleasant River had his course, and there they caused their Tents to be erected: as well to regard the hurt of Amadis, as also to refresh themselves. But as they sat at meat, the two dismounted Knights came riding thither, saying to Amadis. Sir Knight, you have won the Ladies at the Lance, now must ye defend them by the Sword, otherwise we will carry them hence in despite of you. But you shall not, quoth he, if I can let it: so drawing his Sword against him that first made offer, in short time he brought him into such distress, as without the succour of his companion, he was unable to hold out any longer: which Amadis perceiving, said. Ah Knight, the Ladies make slender account of you, that you must come both upon one man. Yet notwithstanding he would not forbear, but as the pattern of unconquerable valour, gave him likewise work enough to do, so that all their wrong turned to his honour: for he gave the last such strokes on the helmet, as the Sword glancing on his shoulders, cut in twain the cuyrates of his Armour and sliced his flesh to the very bone, which made him let fall his Sword, and run away half dead. Then turning to the other, he cut off his hand under his S●eeld, the pain whereof was so irksome to him, as he cried: Ah I am slain. Thus speaking, he threw his sword to the ground, and the shield from about his neck. All this availeth not, said Amadis, for I will not leave thee, except first thou swear, never to offend Lady against her will. Alas, quoth he, I promise faithfully, and will perform it. Herewith Gandalin came, who gave him his Sword and shield again, permitting him to go for help whether he would: and Amadis returned to the Tent, where the Damosels rejoicing for his safe return, said. In sooth Sir, we had been dishonoured without your aid, which is much better than we expected, and such, as not only assureth your revenge for dardan's injury, but the Ladies also, it fortune permit, you do undertake her quarrel. Then was be unarmed, and after his wound was dressed, he sat down to meat again.  
At their departure thence, they lodged at a good ladies Castle, where they were most courteously entertained, and on the morrow travailed all day, without any adventure worthy rehearsal, arriving very near Windsor where King Lisuart lay, when Amadis thus spoke to the Damosels. Fair friends, I would not be known to any one, therefore till such time as the Knight come to the Combat, I intent to withhold myself from the place: and when the hour is, let your Squire bring me tidings thereof hither. Sir, quoth the Damosels, as yet there wants two days of the assignation, therefore if you please we will tarry with you: and our Squire shall go into the Town, to bring us word when the Knight is arrived. I am well content, said he: whereupon they pitched their Tent between a little wood and a river, and Amadis presently put off his Armour. Now did the Damosels change their opinion, and thought it better for them to go into the Town, to see how things were in preparation, saying they might return when they pleased. Amadis not misliking thereof, willed them to do so, in mean while (being unarmed) he mounted on horseback, intending to stray abroad a little for his pleasure, and Gandalin guided him through the wood. Riding along, as they were on the side of a little Mountain, he might easily behold the Town, and when they were at the highest, they alighted from their horses: when Amadis sitting down under a Tree, cast his eye toward that part where he judged the Princess Oriana should be, then regarding the walls, the Towers, and the whole Castle, breathing forth a vehement sigh, he said. An happy Towers, within you is the only flower of the world: and thou fair Town, how fortunate art thou in containing that, which all the hearts and praises of men can not comprehend? High in divine grace were he, who for maintenance of this quarrel should spend his life: but much happy he, that without other combat then his small desert, should reach a bliss so incomparable. Then resting his head on his arm, he entered into a deep conceit, which provoked him to sudden silence, and in this melancholy the tears trilled down his cheeks: in mean while Gandalin who knew his complexion, standing where he was unseen of any, espied a goodly troop of Lords and Ladies coming toward them, whereof he made haste to advertise the Prince, but he was so perplexed, as he could not answer, wherefore Gandalin took him by the arm, saying. My Lord, see you not what a great train maketh toward us? At these words he came to himself, beginning to sigh, and lifting his eyes to heaven, said. Gandalin, if in this love I were master of my strength, as I am in divers other actions: neither shouldest thou have need to advertise me, nor myself be without council so much as I am. But I feel myself so oppressed, as all the enemies in the world can not bring me to such extremity, as this overruling passion doth: therefore I pray thee talk to me, of the felicity a man shall enjoy in death, for other may I not taste, and practise no means of my life, seeing the contrary doth surmount it. What my Lord? answered Gandalin, esteem you the victory over yourself so difficult, after so many conquests of stout and bold Strangers? Why do you not think, that peradventure she loveth you as well, for whom you endure such assaults, and happily by as great reason as you love her? your parsonage, prowess, beauty, and nobility of lineage, can they deserve less, than the good grace of the most rare and excellent Lady in the world? let these humours (my Lord) repel your desperations. Further he would have proceeded, but Amadis broke him off in anger, saying. Wretch darest thou blaspheme so much, as to say, that he who hath merited no condition in the world, may be equalled with so perfect a thing as is my Lady? enter no more into such terms, if thou wilt not have me thine enemy, and so lose my conversation. Well, well, said Gandalin, I pray ye wipe your eyes, lest those that come hitherward perceive you have wept. What? answered Amadis, comes there any body? Yea marry, quoth Gandalin, and now they be at hand: herewith he showed him the Knights and the Ladies, who were hard by them by time Amadis was mounted. Then as though he had stayed for their company, he saluted them, and riding among the train, he beheld a Lady (very comely and beautiful) who wept very grievously, whereupon he left the rest and road with her saying. Madame, God comfort ye and give you joy. In sooth, answered the Lady, and thereof have I need, in that as now it is very far from me, which except heaven favour me with better grace, I am utterly out of hope ever to see again. And so high a Majesty, said Amadis, can provide therefore when he pleaseth: notwithstanding, if you were so contented, I gladly would know the cause of your sadness. Believe me my friend, quoth she, all that ever I enjoy in this world, consisteth in the trial of a Combat. By these words he knew this to be the Lady of whom the Damosels had told him before, wherefore he inquired further, if as yet she had found a Knight on her behalf? No truly, said the Lady, and (which grieveth me most of all) to morrow must my delay be exterminate. What will ye then do? answered Amadis. What would you that I should do? quoth she, but lament and lose all, unless by hap I find one in the King's Court, who moved thereto by charitable compassion, will courteously defend the right of a desolate widow. Such fortune, said Amadis, shall I pray may befall ye, for I should not be a little glad thereof, as well for your own sake, as also because I never thought well of your adversary. I thank ye gentle Sir, quoth she, to God I commit the revenge of my wrong. So passed on the Lady, and Amadis turning bridle, road back to the Pavilion, where he found the Damosels, who were already returned from the Town: and presently they told him, how Dardan was come into the field, with full resolution to do his devoir. And trust me, said Amadis, it was my hap to meet the distressed Lady, even the same whom the case concerneth: herewith he declared all the talk they had together. But now is the hour of quiet come, and each one went to rest till the point of day, when the Damosels being risen, came to tell Amadis, how they would go before to the Town, and send him word when Dardan was ready. Not so, quoth Amadis, I will not be far behind ye, but let one ride before, to advertise me when Dardan shows himself in the field. After he was armed, they went all to horseback, and being come to the issue of the Forest, he said to the Damosels. Now may you go if you please, for I will not departed this place till I hear some news from you. Away they went, when Amadis alighting, took off his helmet to refresh himself.  
No sooner did the Sun appear in the East, but the King came to the place appointed for the Combat, which was without the Town hard by the walls, where Dardan not long after showed himself, in such manner and equipage, as an ambitious man useth to gain goods and honour, also like an amorous Champion to maintain the quarrel of his beloved: who to countenance him with the greater favour, was quaintly led by the reins of his palfrey, then presenting himself before the King on his knees, he said. My Lord, according to the ordinance by you appointed, this Lady and I humbly beseech ye, that the goods may be delivered her as is no more than reason: for if any Knight oppose himself against her, here am I ready for the Combat. The King then called for the other ladies defendant, but she poor soul appeared alone. Why Lady? quoth the King, are you unprovided of a Champion, that you come without any one to sustain your right? So help me God, answered she weeping, I am (my Lord) forsaken of all, except you grant me mercy. Great compassion had the King on her, for he knew her to be very virtuous: but he could not together order reason and the law. In mean while, Dardan who thought no resistance would come, sat down in the midst of the field, attending the third hour, which was the time according to the custom, when the King should pronounce sentence to the conqueror: but one of the Damosels seeing now the noedfull time, made haste to let Amadis understand, what want of his presence was in the field. For this cause he immediately mounted on horseback, & being armed as appertained, commanded the damosel and his Squire to go some other way, for he would not be seen by any from whence he came: assuring them, that if he were victor, he would return again to the Tent. So departed Amadis alone, riding on a brave white Courser, as he promised the damosel of Denmark in Gaul, and arrived at the place where Dardan held the world in wonder of him. The King and his Nobles seeing him come from the Forest, stood somewhat in doubt of him, for he carried such a gallant & Knightly countenance, as promised a far off, that his enemy should find him of haughty disposition: which made the King (above all other) desirous to know him, and thinking she for whose cause he came knew his name, he called and demanded of her the question. Dread Lord, answered the Lady, I never saw the man before, nor do I know what he is. By this time was Amadis entered the field, when doing reverence to the King and the Ladies, without longer stay he came to Dardan: demanding if he were the man, that would maintain the quarrel of her, for whom the poor Lady was put to such trouble, because, quoth he, I am come in her defence, and also to keep promise with thee. What didst thou promise me? replied Dardan. That I would see thee in the day time, said Amadis, and wottest thou when? it was at such a time, as thou being whittled with Wine, or glory, or else the trust thou hadst in thy strong Castle, spakest so outrageously to me standing without, wearied both with travail and hunger. And therefore do I make the less account of thee, answered Dardan: but cause her to come hither, for whom thou wilt do such a doughty deed, to know if she will accept thee as her Champion, and afterward do the uttermost thou canst. When the King saw they talked so long together, he would have heard what they said: but the good widow came, and to her Dardan thus spoke. Dame, this Knight would maintain thy right, wilt thou submit all to what he can do? With all my heart, quoth she, seeing it pleaseth him to stand so much my friend, and God speed him no otherwise then my cause is just. When the two Knights were at the very point to combat, the King perceived that Amadis Shield was bruised in two places, both with strokes of the Sword, and point of the Lance, wherefore he said to such as stood near him, that if the Knight demanded an other shield, he would gladly give him one: but Amadis was so hot in desire to revenge himself and the Lady, that he listened to nothing but the Combat. Thus the Lady's accord being received, the two Champions took their career against each other so roughly, as their Lances pierced their Armour and flew in pieces, without any other harm as yet: but when their bodies met, Dardan was sent to the ground, yet it happened so well for him, as holding fast the reins of his horse, he recovered himself more nimbly, and mounted again, as one both valiant and bravely disposed, boldly setting hand to his Sword. When Amadis saw him so quickly up again, and in such readiness for his own defence: he approached to him, when began such a battle between them, as every one present marveled thereat. On all sides were placed the inhabitants of the Town, and many other that came far off, as well on mighty Scaffolds in the field, as also on the towers and walls of the Castle: but above the rest, the Queen was there present with her Ladies, most desirous to behold who should bear away the honour of this cruel combat, for they seemed two so gallant companions, as it was hard at first sight to judge the better. Such were the rigorous strokes delivered on either side, that sparks of fire flew forth of their Helmets & Armour, their shields cut in pieces, and their blood coullering the ground, which moved exceeding compassion in the regardants, who seemed copartners in their danger, according as each one favoured the welfare of his friend: but the two champions gave no respect thereto, because their desire was to make known both to the Ladies & themselves, the man deserving highest account. When King Lisuart saw them endure so long, he said aloud: that he never beheld a more singular combat, pursued with greater courage & manhood: wherefore he determined not to departed, until he had seen the final issue thereof, permitting them to proceed as themselves pleased. And to the end, quoth he, that the conqueror may be dignified with more than accustomed honour, I will cause his deserts to be lively carved in Marble at the entrance of my Palace, to provoke the like perfection in all other, that are desirous to follow Arms. In such manner as you have heard continued the two Knights a long time, the standers by being not able to discern who had the better: for without taking breath or rest their fury continued, as though their strength had more & more increased. But Amadis, who by chance turning his head to the place where the Ladies stood; espied his fair Mistress lovely Oriana, whereby he felt his virtue augmented in such sort, that he was as fresh & lusty, as if but then he entered the field, imagining he was become more than a man. Now followed he the fight with such cruel extremes, as in short time he dissolved the doubt who should be superior: for Dardan (notwithstanding all his defence) was constrained to draw back, seeking how to escape the wreakful strokes of his enemy, which without ceasing wounded his body in many places: his horse likewise no longer able to endure, stumbled so often, till at length he set both his knees to the ground, which made Dardan think it better to fight on foot, wherefore he said to Amadis. Knight, our horses are weary & fail us, by reason whereof we cannot do as we would: & if we were on foot, me thinks in short time the doubt would be decided. These words did Dardan speak so loud, as the King & his Lords easily heard them: whereat Amadis seemed ashamed, thus answering. Although it be unhonourable in a Knight, to forsake his horse so long as he can keep him: yet since thou thinkest to combat better on foot then on horseback, we will alight, and defend thyself well, for thou shalt have need. Herewith they dismounted, assailing each other so courageously, as if but now they begun the combat, showing more sharp cruelty then before they had done: yet Amadis evermore kept the advantage, commonly delivering two strokes for one, which made Dardan do nothing but defend his enemy's blows, who compelled him to turn & reqoile as himself pleased, so that each one accounted him very near vanquished, blaming him because he kept not still on horseback. But as he turned here & there, flying the slicing Sword of Amadis, he was driven under the Ladies Scaffold, which made them cry: Dardan can hold out no longer, he is overcome if he enter the combat again. Yet for all this Amadis would not leave him, but pressed him still with such pursuit, as he brought him hard by the queens Scaffold, when she & all the Ladies said. Without question, Dardan is but dead. At this clamour, Amadis understood the voice of the Damsel of Denmark, and lifting up his head, espied her standing by the Princess Oriana: by means whereof, he became so far beside himself, as he set the point of his Sword to the ground, forgetting not only the danger wherein he was, but also stood amazed at the sight of his Mistress. Which when Dardan beheld, he took heart afresh, and charged his enemy so bravely, that if he had longer continued, he would have gone away conqueror: but the damosel of Denmark noting this change, spoke out aloud. In an unhappy hour did the Knight behold any Lady in this company, whereby he hath lost what he won of Dardan: it is no time now for his heart to faint. These words confounded Amadis with shame, that gladly could he have given entertainment to death, fearing lest his Lady would suspect cowardice in him. For this cause, lifting up his Sword, he gave Dardan such a stroke on the Helmet, as made him set both his hands to the ground: then falling upon him, he rend the Helmet from off his head, and trampled in such sort on him with his feet, as he fell down like one deprived of his senses. Afterward taking him by the locks of his hair, he beat him on the face with the pommel of his Sword, saying: Thou diest Dardan, if thou confess not the Lady free. When Dardan saw himself in such estate: he replied: Ah gentle Knight, for God's sake mercy, kill me not, I acquit her. Now approached the King and the other Lords to hear what he said, and while they stood conferring with him, Amadis as yet ashamed of his fault committed, drew back through the throng: and seeing he had gotten behind them all, so covertly as he could he ran toward the Forest, leaving them all musing at Dardan, who filled the empty air with his complaints. In mean while his beautiful friend came to him, who in stead of giving comfort for the foil he sustained through her, began to detest and despise him, saying. Dardan, hereafter seek thee some other friend then me, for while I live, will I neither love thee, or any other, than the good Knight who valiantly overcame thee. How now Lady? quoth he, is this the reward of my honour and life adventured for you? you then are not the friend to Dardan, but to fortune, who is no sooner contrary to me, but presently you are mine enemy. Have I then escaped death by the mercy of my foe, to endure worse than death by the cruelty of my friend? Heaven suffereth me to live, and yet you repine at my infortunate life: now shall I make known to all women by your example, that ingratitude is no less hurtful to such as exercise it, then to any one offended therewith. Hereupon he took his Sword, and before it could be imagined what he meant to do, he smote her head quite from her shoulders: then as a man transported with madness, staring every where ro●●d about him, declared by his angry countenance, that high and not vulgar, was the enterprise he embraced in such an extremity. The King sent his Archers to convey him thence, but ere they came to him, he struck himself so violently to the heart, as the blood spouted in the Archers faces, and then he cried out, saying. Now friend art thou revenged by my vengeance, and thine enemy satisfied with the despised life thou leftest me. So falling down, delivered the last sign of his death, where-at each one was confounded with marvel, as well for the novelty of the case, as pitying the very latest words he breathed: but when they remembered his passed life, wholly addicted to overwéening folly, they reputed this unfortunate end happened to him, not so much by accident, as the divine ordinance, which made them sorrow no more, but converted their thoughts to commend the conqueror.   

CHAP. XV. ¶ How King Lisuart caused a Sepulchre to be made for Dardan and his friend, with an Epitaph in remembrance of their death: and the honour he did to Amadis, after he was found and known.  
AFter the unfortunate end of these ill advised lovers, the King in memory of this strange accident, commanded that in the field where they lay dead, should be erected a sumptuous Sepulchre of black Marble stone, fashioned like a Roman Obelisque, and thereon was engraven in the Britain language an Epitaph, declaring the whole matter as it happened. And when he had knowledge of the conqueror (as hereafter the manner how is declared,) his name was placed thereon, and four great Lions at the four corners of the Sepulchre, importing the devise which Amadis bore in his Shield.  
But now the rumour being appeased, and they returned to the Palace, he called for the Stranger that won the honour of the day: but after long inquiry, no one could certainly tell what was become of him, albeit certain coming from the wood, reported how they saw a Knight return from the field thitherward, being alone and making great haste. He that is worthy, said the King, to bear him company, may imagine himself happy enough: for seeing he hath showed himself so brave a Combatant, it is impossible but he should be a wise and virtuous Knight. And for no less each one reputed him, who understood the injuries of Dardan used to him, and saw how he requited them with gentleness and courtesy: albeit I make no doubt but he knew right well, that if Dardan had got the better, he would not have pardoned him. Such as you have heard were the words of King Lisuart, but Oriana, who day by day expected the arrival of Amadis, seeing the incomparable valour of him that fought against Dardan, began to suspect that it was he: for (quoth she to the Damsel of Denmark) I am sure he would not send me a fabulous message, and this is the just time he assured you of his coming. In good sooth Madame, answered the Damsel, you say very true, and which makes me conceive the better hope, is that he promised me to ride on a white Courser, with the like Arms he had when he Combated against King Abies: and I remember how the Knight who overcame Dardan, had the like horse. But did you, (quoth Oriana) take no regard of his Arms? Yes marry did I, replied the damosel, albeit the cruel strokes received thereon, made me hardly perceive what devise was there figured: yet me thought the ground was a golden field, and the like I told ye he bore in Gaul, with two azured Lions rampant portrayed therein, which being battered all in pieces, he presently made him such an other, assuring me to wear no other when he came into this country, and therefore I will doubt no further but it is he. Sweet friend, said Oriana, if it be he, either he will shortly come, or send into the Town, therefore you must be watchful and diligent to hear thereof. Madame, quoth the damosel, refer these matters to my charge. This conference caused Oriana to remain very pensive, and breathing forth many bitter sighs, she said. Ah gracious heavens, what favour have you done me if this be Amadis? now shall I compass the means (better than ever I could) to speak with him.  
So attended the Princess for tidings from her friend, who returned as he promised to the Damosels Tent, yet was it somewhat late ere he came thither, finding them ready to sit down to supper. After he had unarmed himself, they told him the misfortune of Dardan and his friend, as also the whole circumstance of their deaths: hereat he was very much abashed: then falling to their cheer, they beguiled the time with sundry pleasant devices, yet Amadis could think of nothing else, but how he might make his arrival known to Oriana, wherefore they were no sooner risen from the table, but he took Gandalin aside, and thus began. My friend, thou must of necessity go to the Court, and labour secretly to find the damosel of Denmark: to whom thou shalt report that I am here, attending to hear from her what I shall do. Gandalin with all possible speed departed, and the better to execute his enterprise, he went on foot, when being come to the Palace, not long had he stayed till he saw her he looked for, who was as busy as he in the self-same cause: yet at the first she knew him not, but quickly remembered she had seen him in Gaul with Amadis, and embracing him, demanded where his master was. Why Lady? quoth Gandalin, did not you see him to day? it was he that vanquished proud Dardan, and hath withdrawn himself to the Forest to hear from his Mistress, desiring you by me, to let him understand what he must do. Right welcome, said the damosel, is he into this country, being the man desired above all other: but my Lady must needs see thee, therefore follow me. If any one ask who thou art, say thou bringest letters to Oriana from the Queen of Scots, and likewise thou art come to look for Amadis, who is arrived here as thou hast heard: by these means, thou mayst hereafter come to her without suspicion. Thus was Gandalin conducted into the queens chamber, where the Princess Oriana was, to whom, the damosel of Denmark came, and speaking somewhat loud, said. Madame, here is a Squire sent to you from the Queen of Scots. Oriana weening she had said true, arose to welcome him: but when she knew Gandalin, the vermilion colour arose in her cheeks, and was so overcome with joy, as she knew not well what countenance to use, yet Gandalin (as well advised) set his knee to the ground, saying. Madame, the Queen my mistress heartily saluteth you, as the Lady whom she loveth and esteemeth above all other of her kindred, desiring to hear some news from you, for here she greets you with all that she doth know. Then gave he her a Letter which he had feigned, having nothing written therein, but the superscription on the out side: whereupon she went aside with Gandalin to one of the windows, making show to hear the rest of his charge, but she demanded where he had left his Master? Madame, answered Gandalin, he withdrew himself into the Forest, so soon as he had conquered Dardan. Good friend, said Oriana, tell me by the faith thou bearest to him, how he fareth? Even so fair Princess, quoth Gandalin, as the man that is altogether yours, he loveth only the remembrance of you, and yet suffereth such anguish in his soul as never Knight endured: by the only fear he sustaineth lest he should not be yours, mistrusting his own deserts for so high a service. His greatest hope is in your princely kindness, and knowing him so long, as also what he is, that you will not forget him. Wherefore I beseech ye Madame, take compassion on him, appoint a meeting together, then resolve him, make me a happy messenger, and discharge yourself of your devoir: for hitherto hath he endured such sorrow, as no man is able to suffer the like. Often have I seen him (thinking on you) so far beyond himself, as he hath fallen down dead (in a manner) before me, so that I have imagined (noting the abundance of his tears) his poor heart to be distilled into water through the conduits of his eyes. If he should die, you offered him great wrong: for he is yours, and easily can ye not find another so worthy of you. Nor need you doubt, but if you grant the hour of lengthening his life, he will surpass in chivalry the best Knight that ever bare Arms: wherein if he be happy by his virtue, yet hath he mishap to counterpoise the same, only through the passions he endureth for you. If now you will not deign to afford him remedy, much better had it been for him, that fortune had let him perish in the Sea, to the mercy whereof in his cradle coffin he was committed: then after his preservation by such strange means, to suffer him die by a worse shipwreck than the other. But if his dismal stars will not divert this danger, happy might he have accounted himself, if he had never come to the knowledge of his parents, whose grief likewise he greatly increaseth, to see him so consume & die before his day, being unable to divine or understand the cause thereof. Gandalin all this while accompanied his words with such tears, and often among breathed forth so many mournful sighs, as would have enforced the very rocks to ruth: but perceiving Oriana was touched to the quick, he began again in this manner. Ah gentle Madame, consent not to the death of such a servant of yours, and so good a master of mine: for beside the common loss which will be great, in you alone shall consist the fault, moreover, you shall maculate that perfect beauty, with the high condemned stain of cruelty and ingratitude. Here did he knit up his persuasion, attending an answer from the Princess, but she was not able to deliver one word, so vehemently was her heart surprised and overcome: and holding down her head, let fall wonderful streams of tears adown her dainty cheeks, which enforced her to turn on the other side, lest she should be descried, then when as Gandalin would have begun again, she stayed him with a piercing sigh, saying. Ah my friend, I pray thee say no more, unless thou be willing to see me die here presently. Now stood she silent a pretty while, often wring and straining her fingers with grief, then setting apart all dissimulation, she softly thus spoke. The assurance thou givest me of thy masters love, is highly pleasing and agreeable to me: but the passion thou sayest he endureth, tormenteth me to the very death, so that I feel both his pain and mine own. Ah God, let not me be the occasion of death, to a man so high and precious of desert as he is, rather let me work mine own death, for if he die, I may not live one hour. Thou art come to tell me his painful travail, and now thou mayest go to let him understand mine, which if thou knewest so well as thou dost thy masters: in stead of blaming me with cruelty, thou wouldst rather judge me unfortunate, and if I use any cruelty, it is against myself, whom I have deprived of rest pleasure, and well-near life itself. The less succour can I give to mine own distress, because as it often happeneth to our sex, when thinking to draw near such as we desire, we are furthest off, and seeking for a harbour of contentment, glance into a place of torment and vexation: so falleth it out with me by thy master, whom fortune hath ever kept me furthest from, but God knows my good will hath always been with him, and gladly would I provide for his griefs and mine own, if I were able to compass the means. Do then Madame what you may, answered Gandalin, if you love him as I am sure he doth you, and begin at this instant to let him know, how he shall behave himself in this Country. Oriana then showed him a Garden, which was under the window where they talked, saying. Return to thy Master, and tell him, that this night he must secretly come to the place thou seest, and remember this withal, how the Chamber under where we stand, is the same that Mabila and I lodge in, and there is a cross barred window near the ground, wherethrough we may easily discern each other, and talk together: for his Cousin is acquainted with mine affairs, nor is it necessary they should be concealed from her. Then taking a costly Ring off her finger, she thus proceeded. Deliver him this token from me, as the only jewel I most esteem, and ere thou goest, thou shalt see the Princess Mabila, who is so wise and discreet, as she will easily understand thee: yet thou must say somewhat loud to her, that thou hast brought her tidings from her Mother. Hereupon Oriana called her to talk with the Squire, whom the Queen of Scots her Mother had sent to her: but when she saw it was Gandalin, she then suspected how matters went: wherefore she went to the Queen, leaving them in deep talk together. In mean while the Queen demanded of her daughter, if the Gentleman were to return shortly or no: For, quoth she. I would send a token to the Queen of Scots by him. Madame, answered Oriana, the chief cause of his coming into this country, was to seek for the good Knight Amadis, Son to the King of Gaul, of whom you have heard such famous report. And where is he? said the Queen. The Squire saith, quoth Oriana, it is more than ten months since he heard that he was here, and now he marveleth to miss of him in this Court. Now trust me, answered the Queen, right glad would I be to see so good a Knight in the King's company, for it would be a great comfort to him many ways, having to deal with so many countries: wherefore I assure ye, if he do come hither, he shall find here such honourable entertainment, as he shall have no cause to departed in haste. Of his prowess Madame, replied Oriana, I know little, but what common bruit hath blazed abroad: but hereof I am certain, how he was one of the most brave young Gentlemen that ever Isawe, when in the King of Scots Court he served Mabila and me. All this while Mabila continued with Gandalin, inquiring if his Master were as yet arrived. Yea, Madame answered Gandalin, the same was he that vanquished Dardan, and express charge he gave me, to salute you on his behalf. The name of heaven be for ever praised, quoth she, having preserved our kinsman from such exceeding danger, and now sent him hither so honourably. Ah Madame, said Gandalin, he were happy indeed, if the force of love made him not in worse case then dead: for God's sake therefore do you assist him, being thus fully persuaded, that if he find no ease to cure his afflictions, you shall lose the best Knight in the world, and the upholder of your father's fame. He may be well assured, answered Mabila, how he can not with greater desire employ me, than I have to do him pleasure, and will him not to fail in what the Princess hath commanded him: as for thyself, being judged to come from the Queen my mother, thou mayst come and speak to us at all times as need shall require.  
Gandalin took his leave for that time, returning toward Amadis, who attended the answer of life or death, and into such debility was he brought by these extremes, as he had scant force enough to support himself: for the short sight he had of his Lady at the combat, increased such a desire in him to see at more liberty, as every hour seemed to him longer than a year. When he saw that Gandalin was returned, in hope of happy news, he came and embraced him, not daring to demand any thing of him, fearing least matter should not fall out to his contentation: but Gandalin with a cheerful countenance, told him that he brought no bad tidings, and rushing into the matter at the first, said. My Lord, God make ye as constant, as you have cause to be content, for if you have that virtue, you are the most happy and accomplished Knight in the world. Overwhelmed with joy, Amadis caught him in his arms, demanding what he had done, seen, and heard? I have seen and heard, answered Gandalin, the felicities of Paradise, and know that they are provided for you, if you hinder it not yourself. Ah Gandalin, quoth Amadis, jest not with me, but tell me the very truth. Then Gandalin declared word by word how every thing happened, first of the counterfeit Letter, and next the appointed meeting at the window: and (by the way) reported some part of his own speeches, moving a change of countenance in Oriana, than her answer, even to the conclusion before rehearsed: likewise how he talked with Mabila, and how willing she was to assist him with her uttermost ability. Amadis was so fed with content by these reports, that he made him rehearse one thing ten times, and I cannot tell which of them was most affectionate, either Gandalin in reporting, or Amadis in hearing, for both the one and other seemed insatiable, in the end Amadis thus spoke. My faithful companion, I thought myself altogether indebted to thy Father, who saved me from the danger of drowning in the Sea, but I confess that duty belongs more necessarily to thee: because by thy diligence and discretion, thou hast given me a better life than he preserved. But tell me now, didst thou take good mark of the place to which she commanded me? Assure yourself thereof, quoth Gandalin, for she herself showed it me. Ah God, said Amadis, how shall I deserve the great good she doth for me? away from me now all cause of sorrow and complaining. Yet this is not all my Lord, quoth Gandalin, see here a token she hath sent ye, as a testimony of her honourable love to you: so he gave him the King which came from Oriana, and after he had long beheld it, kissing it a thousand times, put it on his finger, saying. Fair King, that hast been so happy, as to be carried and accounted dear by the most accomplished creature in the world, albeit thou be now in a place of much inferior honour: yet hast thou not changed thy Mistress, for both thou and I are hers, and she doth compass my heart with greater force, than thou canst possibly bind in my finger. Let us leave this talk, answered Gandalin, and return to the Damosels, who tarry for us in the Tent: but you must dissemble cunningly, for if they see you altered from your wunted melancholy, it may be some hindrance to your determination. So they broke off communication, and went into the Pavilion, where Amadis, (notwithstanding Gandalins council) could not but show himself pleasantly disposed, whereat the Damosels were very glad, because such behaviour, better beseemeth him then his former pensiveness.  
When the hour of rest was come, each one went to his accustomed lodging, and soon after Amadis seeing the time commodious for his enterprise, arose and found Gandalin, who had already prepared for their journey: wherefore being armed, they mounted on horseback, taking the most convenient way for their purpose to the Town. When they came to the Garden, which Oriana had before showed Gandalin, they alighted, and tied their horsies at a tuft of trees near adjoining, afterward they went through a hole which a watercourse had made in the garden wall and approached the window where Oriana lay: fair and softly did Amadis knock thereon with his finger, she not yet sleeping, who expected his coming, and when she heard the loving signal of her friend, she awaked Mabila, saying. Sweet Sister, I think your Cousin knocketh at the window. My Cousin? answered Mabila, it may be so, but you have greater interest in him then I, or all other of his lineage together. Mabila presently arose, and lighted a wax taper which she had hid for the nonce, when Oriana likewise was got out of bed, they came together and opened the casement, where they found▪ Amadis no more attending than he was attended. If they were then well pleased, it were folly to inquire, for all the contentinents in the world, might not be compared with the joy of seeing each other. And without question, they had two inducing reasons hereto, for beside the nourishment they received together in their younger years, and their first amity, continued by the remembrance and good opinion they had of each other: their beauty and perfectons were so correspondent, as if they had never seen one another till that very instant, yet had they cause enough to love together. Oriana had on such brave attire beseeming the night, as set the heart of her lover on fire, for under a fine and dainty white frontlet, appeared the rarest golden tresses of hair that ever nature made, and about her shoulders she had a mantle of figured cloth of gold, embroidered all over with rich and costly flowrets, as it might beseem the greatest Majesty in the world. And for herself, a thing more fair was impossible to be found, the inward conceit of her present comfort, decked her face with such a heavenly beauty, as it seemed that nature in pride of her art, made this piece to excel all other in perfection. I will leave you then to consider on the judgement of Amadis, who (when the was nothing so glorious in fairness) thought her worthy the love of the best Knight in the world: now if he stood mute, blame him not, having the only jewel of his heart before him, and therefore she to break off this silence, first spoke in this manner. My Lord, if I have given you the liberty (contrary to my duty and custom) to see me in this place at an hour so unfitting, you must commit the offence to the security, which our former nutturing together loyally promised, and likewise to the good opinion of your great virtues since that time increased: which hath conquered no less favour in me, than honour and renown in all other places. Amadis to avoid further silence, thought it better to let his speeches pass at adventure, them (by holding his peace) to be reputed unworthy this happiness, or not so fervently touched with love as she was, to exclude all which doubts, he thus replied. Madame, I account myself not so much favoured by fortune in any thing else, as honoured at my first entrance into your service, even the very highest type of grace she could afford me: nor do I feel myself so beholding to my virtues, as I rest double bound to them that report so well of me. But when both these benefits shall be excluded, yet is my love and service to you so affectionate, as they can deserve no less than this secret gentleness: and when you shall allow me more ample courtesy, it may command a stricter bond of duty, but not of affection, for that is already so substantially grounded, that the uttermost good you can do me, is neither able to augment it, or the sharpest unkindness diminish it. I know not whether it be seemly for a man, to confess the extremities he hath infinite times endured by this passion, the very lest grief I received, hath been the loss of rest, and banishment of sleep from mine eyes: and yet to afflict me with greater torment, my spirit hath seen in a dream what it uncessantly desired. How many times hath it happened to me, in thinking on you to be so confounded, that such as have seen me, reputed me not only deprived of common sense, but even of very life itself? What woman, what child well beaten, hath ever powered forth so many tears, as I poor Knight have done? yea my very chiefest enterprises have I sprinkled withal for your sake: not as feeling myself a happy subject in love, but rather too little merit in myself, and much less hope. This favour proceeding from you in deigning to hear me, is greater than ever I durst hope forand so far● doth it surmount my passions, as I cannot express the least part of my joy: my tongue likewise seemeth as unprofitable and ignorant of his office, having been so long from serving me to you. But above all, this impuissance in speech, shall on my behalf testify to you, what all the words in the world cannot deliver with sufficient truth: for as all other beauty in comparison of yours is nothing, so before mine affection, all the other abilities of my soul vanish away, and become of no reckoning. Will you then (good Madame) with your courtesy supply my insufficeincie, and (with pity) give me both life and myself: and conserve that which else cannot be, unless it be yours only? These words uttered Amadis with such interruption of sighs and tears, as witnessed he had no intent of feigning, but rather knew how to suffer then speak: wherewith Oriana moved to compassion, thus answered. I make no doubt (dear friend) but you love me, in respect of the pains you have taken for me, as also by what you have now told me: and though I should have no sign thereof by speech or aught else, yet am I content to believe, because my heart hath no other desire, but herein conceiveth greatest contentment. And yet the torment I see you in with impatience, troubleth my quiet, for you being assured by sufficient proves, and especially this, that I love ye: me thinks you should have no further cause of so severe affliction, but rather ought to temper your pains, in that (through the union of our spirits) I feel no less than you do yourself. If you will not appease them for your own sake, I pray ye let it be done for mine, the rather, that we may the oftener meet (if you please) publicly: when such sadness will but discover, what we most willingly would keep unknown, whereby may arise too great inconvenience, and be a mean to hinder the thing we chiefest desire. Sweet Lady answered Amadis, I have such felicity in seeing and hearing you, as wanting strength enough to underprop the burden of so especial contentation: I am feign to fall down under it, experimenting no less the pain of not accustomed pleasure, than the other beside of continual pensiveness, which makes me wonder that I cannot die here in this solace. If then I have offended you by this transportation, pardon it in your own self, who brought me to this happy misfortune, and likewise gave me this hurtful medicine: suffer me then yet longer to use it, that in the assurance of your grace, I may by little and little learn to support it, and attain the knowledge of living content: excusing my apprentishood in this felicity, being yet scant skilful enough how to use it. Love is sickness, and be it favourable or contrary, it cannot be without passion, working the like effect in other, which you reprove in me. Well have you said my friend, answered Oriana, how you are as yet but an Apprentice: and so you show very well by your words, proving that love cannot be without passion. I hope to see the time, when you (attaining greater and more perfect knowledge therein, then yet you have) shall be in higher tranquillity of mind, which (it may be) you think cannot be had in this world. Nor shall it not happen to you by admiration of that which now you most love, and is likewise of far more less account: but by the fruition of the thing wherein felicity consisteth, the knowledge whereof uniteth and lifteth the spirits so high as heaven. And albeit I am yet so young in years and discretion, as I cannot be exempt from the ill you complain on: yet am I not unprovided of desire to hasten the time, when we shall live together merry and contented. Ah Madame, said Amadis, the hope of that happy day, shall make me pass this mournful life in patience, supporting for your honour my inward pains so covertly as I can, and bearing the outward with what courage possible I may: but I beseech ye do me the favour, as to tell me when it will be. Well perceived Oriana, that he had not thoroughly understood her meaning, wherefore in smiling she said. It is already begun, but the dazzling of your eyes will not let you see it. herewith Amadis became very pensive, holding his eyes steadfastly fixed on her, and she to change his sadness, took him by the hand thorough the window: which Amadis kissed a thousand times, without any word passing between them, and Mabila noting it, she came to them saying: Gentles you forget yourselves. Amadis lifting up his head, courteously saluted her, she doing the like to him, and after sundry speeches of welcome, as also how long they desired to see him: Mabila demanded, what length of time he intended to stay in the Court. So long as it shall please Madame Oriana, answered Amadis. It must be then continually, quoth Oriana, and you shall grant it if the King request it, sweet Madame, answered Amadis, if it please his Majesty so much to honour me, I will obey both him and you: yet will I dissemble strangeness a while. All the better, replied Mabila, and in the mean time I pray ye visit us often. Longer they would have continued in talk, but Gandalin gave them warning how the day appeared, wherefore he said to Amadis. My Lord, me thinks you are importunate, but than you must needs accuse the day. Amadis gave no ear to him, for he proceeded on still with his devise: but Oriana perceiving Gandalin said true, thus spoke to Amadis. Now go my Lord if you please, for it is time, and forget not your promise. Then taking her by the hand, and kissing it, he went to horseback, returning to the wood where he left the Damosels, who had by entreaty earnestly persuaded him, to go deliver their Cousin that the King held captive, until such time she presented her Champion, as you have heard: wherefore after they had rested till morning, they returned to the Town, in the greatest favour and expectation of the world.   

CHAP. XVI. ¶ How Amadis made himself known to King Lisuart, as also the Princes and Lords of his Court, of whom he was honourably received and feasted.  
Early the next morning, Amadis armed himself, and mounting on horseback, road presently to the Town accompanied with the two Damosels: where being arrived, they brought him to their Cousins lodging, when the good Lady knowing her worthy Champion, falling on her knees before him, said. My Lord, all the goods I have you gave me, for of you I hold them and no other, dispose therefore of them as you please: but Amadis broke her off in this manner. Come Lady, let us go before the King, to the end he may acquit you, and I return where urgent affairs call me: so taking off his Helmet, he road on to the Palace with the three Ladies. The people knowing him to be the man that overcame Dardan, made such thronging in the streets to see him, as the King was given to understand thereof: and he rejoicing at his coming, honoured him so much, as he came to meet and receive him on the way, thus speaking to him. Worthy Knight, hither are you so welcome as may be devised, because we have been very desirous to see you. Amadis noting this gracious entertainment, setting his knee to the ground, thus answered. The God of heaven give your Majesty a long and happy life: then the King taking him by the hand, caused him to arise, saying. Right glad am I to have knowledge of you, being a Knight of so excellent deserving: these words enforced Amadis to blush, yet he replied in this manner. My Lord, to desire the ladies discharge whom you caused to be detained, I am bold to come before your Highness: and seeing she hath answered the Law according to your appointment, hereafter I hope she may enjoy her liberty, yet till this present she knew not who maintained her quarrel against Dardan. While the King and Amadis thus conferred together, a number of people gathered about them, some commending his beauty, other his gallant youth, and all in general his famous Chivalry: in that he being so young, had the power to vanquish Dardan, who was redoubted and feared through all great Britain. By this time sundry speeches passed between him and the King, where-among he dissembled his speedy departure, to provoke a desire in him to stay him, and thus spoke Amadis. Dread Lord, seeing the Lady is free, I desire leave for my return again: but if in aught I may do your Majesty any service, I am the man ready to be commanded, and you the Prince whom most I desire to honour. Good friend, quoth the King, your departure must not be so soon, except you delight to displease me. God forbidden, answered Amadis, in respect my endeavour is altogether to obey you. Do you think, said the King, it is any obedience, if I may not entreat a longer stay? In soothe my Lord, quoth Amadis, you may and shall command, for in greater matters than this I will not offend ye. Go then and unarm you, replied the King, and speaking these words, himself took him by the hand, conducting him to a sumptuous Chamber, where he left him to take some refection, with Arban King of Norgalles, and the Duke of Gloucester, whom he commanded to keep him company: for King Lisuart was a Prince, that especially favoured and honoured strange Knights. Having left Amadis thus worthily accompanied, he went to the Queen, and told her in what manner he had stayed the good Knight who overcame Dardan. But do ye my Lord, quoth she, know his name? No verily, answered the King, for in respect of the promise I made him, I durst not demand that question of him. It may be, said the Queen, he is the Son to King Perion of Gaul. I would it might fall out so well▪ answered the King. Do you know, quoth the Queen, who may put us out of this doubt? even the Squire that talked with Mabtla, who came to search him in your Court, and said, how he was advertised of his arrival in this Country long before. Immediately the King caused Gandalin to be called, and without declaring any thing to him, thus spoke: Fellow me, for I must show a Knight to thee, that I may be resolved if thou know him or no. Gandalin attended on the King, entering the Chamber where Amadis was, and Gandalin viewing him very earnestly, feigned to have seen him long time since, then setting his knee to the ground, said. Ah my Lord, great travail have I endured to find you, since I departed from the Scottish Court. Gandalin my good friend? right heartily art thou welcome to me, what news dost thou bring? None but good my Lord, answered Gandalin, all your noble friends are in perfect health, commending themselves to your excellency, but henceforth Sir you must conceal yourself no longer: then turning to the King he thus proceeded. Mighty King, he that hath been so long time unknown, is this brave Prince the famous Amadis, Son to the invincible King Perion of Gaul: and then came his Father to understand so much, when he slew in combat the puissant King Abies of Ireland, by means whereof he recovered his Realm which was well near lost. By these devices was Amadis discovered, and better welcomed then before: for till then he was not known but through his famous deeds, the renown whereof was every where blazed abroad, and now was he so well honoured for his virtue as his nobleness required. So spent they the whole day in honourable feasting, until such time as each one withdrew himself, when King Lisuart commanded the King of Norgalles, that he should lodge in Amadis Chamber: afterward when they were alone, to sound his mind, and understand by all means possible, if he would consent to remain in his service. Thus leaving them together, he returned to the Queen, and to her thus spoke. Madame, hardly shall I cause Amadis to stay as mine, nor can I tell which way to compass it, albeit I never had greater desire to any Gentleman of long time, for the high account is held of him, would cause me to be much more feared and redoubted. My Lord, quoth the Queen, grant him any thing he shall demand, and do yourself present him what you imagine will best please him. He requesteth nothing of me, replied the King, for if he did, I would consent thereto more willingly than he could desire. Me thinks it were good, said the Queen, to entreat him first by some other of our Court, and if they cannot prevail, will him to come see me, your Daughter and our Cousin Mabila: they likewise shall solicit the matter, for they knew him when he served them as a Squire. Then shall we let him understand, how all the Knights here are yours, and none but thinks himself honoured thereby: him will we desire to be one of the company, that you may enjoy his service when need shall require. This will be a good mean, answered the King to procure his stay, and if he will not be won by you, we may well judge him of less civility than Chivalry. Now because it waxed somewhat late, the King bade his Queen good night, and went to his Chamber. On the other side, the King of Norgalles persuaded his new come guest, that he would abide in the Court of King Lisuart: but Amadis could so cunningly dissemble, that he altogether disguised the chief point of his desire, and might not by all these intreties be won. When he perceived he laboured in vain, on the morrow morning he brought him to the King, of whom Amadis made offer to take his leave: but the King answered him in this manner. My good friend, you should have done me pleasure not to depart so soon, yet can I not constrain ye to tarry against your will, but my Queen would gladly see you before your departure. Nor will I go my Lord, answered Amadis, before I have done my duty to her: whereupon, taking him by the hand, he brought him into her chamber, and thus spoke to her. See here Madame King perion's son of Gaul, who is come to salute you before his departure. In soothe my Lord, answered the Queen, he doth me great honour, and he is very heartily welcome hither. Then Amadis stepping to her, fell on his knee to kiss her hand, but she caused him to rise and sit down by her: when the King perceiving they would enter into further talk, withdrew himself to discourse with his Knights, while they conferred together. In mean while the Queen courteously entertained Amadis, but the other Ladies and Gentlewomen, who had heard such fame of his beauty and excellent perfections, began to eye him very diligently, marveling that nature had so enriched him, with the only thing they most desired. Now knew Amadis by their countenances what judgement they held of him, yet durst he net turn his head aside, fearing lest seeing his Oriana, (by some sudden mutation) he might reveal what carefully he coveted to hide. And as he continued in this perplexity, the Princess Mabila came and did him reverence, whereupon the Queen (the better to compass her intent) called her Daughter, who dissembled as if she scant knew him, and thus she spoke to her. Fair Daughter, remember you not the Son to King Perion of Gaul, who served you well while he was your Squire, & yet may do (if it please him) now he is a Knight? in sooth, you must all assist me in desiring him to grant me one request. And know ye what it is? quoth she to Amadis, the King earnestly entreateth you to remain in his Court, and yet as I understand, you have no will to afford him so small a favour. We shall see anon, if Ladies hold greater privilege in Knights, than men do, therefore we all join together in one suit, that you would be Knight to my Daughter and myself, and likewise to them whom you see in this fair company. And if you will do so much for us, you shall deliver us from seeking support in any other, who happily cannot be to agreeable so us: for well we know if you be our Knight, we shall surpass all them that attend on the King. The Ladies were before advertised what they should do in this case, wherefore they flocked about him altogether, and with signs of earnest supplication, confirmed the queens request: especially Oriana, who gave him a sign that he should consent, but he very wisely dissembled it, although he had no other desire in the world: wherefore the Queen seeing him so slow in answering, as if she would have pressed him thereto, said. Well Sir Amadis, what? shall we be denied? Madame, replied Amadis, what is he that dare do otherwise, then grant your will and these Ladies present, seeing you are the most honourable Queen of the world, and they likewise deserve the highest point of service? therefore Madame, by your commandment and the Princess Oriana, as also these other Ladies who are loath to be denied, I am content to tarry with you: yet under this condition, that I will do nothing but for you only, and if I accomplish any service for the King, it shall be yours and none of his. Then as our Champion, answered the Queen, all we accept you: and these glad tidings she soon sent to the King, who was so highly pleased therewith, that he commanded the King of Norga●les to go● and bear him company, and himself for joy went presently to him, when taking him in his arms, he said. Gentle Knight, right glad am I of your consent to the Queen, and for my part be you well assured, that my desire is to entreat ye according to your deserts. Amadis on his knee humbly thanked him, albeit he only stayed by the commandment of Oriana, and no such other matter as he feigned to the Queen.  
For this time the Author leaveth Amadis, returning where he left the Prince Galaor, who being departed from the Duke of brystoya's Castle, where the villainous Dwarf unhappily discovered him: all that day he wandered in the Forest of Arinida, not meeting any one to direct him a more ready way, yet toward evening, he saw a Squire come toward him, mounted on a right good Courser. Now had Galaor received a certain wound, by one of the three Knights that assailed him as you have heard, which by reason of dallying with his new friend the night past, began to fester and rankle very much, and feeling himself not half currant, he said to the Squire. My friend, knowest thou where I may find cure for a small wound I have? What if I do? answered the Squire, yet will I not company any such coward as thou art, because it were to my shame and discredit if I should. Enough of that, said Galaor, tell me where I may find help for my wound? Rather, quoth the Squire, would I seek one to give thee another. Show me the way, answered Galaor, and I will adventure what thou fearest me withal. I may choose, said the Squire, except I list. Day thou shalt do it, quoth Galaor, by friendship or force. By force? replied the Squire, thinkest thou I will do any thing for so bad and false a Knight as thou art? When Galaor heard him speak so imperiously, he drew his Sword, making show as if he would smite off his head, saying. Villain thou shalt conduct me, else will I send thy soul to all the Devils. The Squire being afraid, thus answered. Seeing thou enforcest me, I will bring thee to a place where thy folly shall be chastised, and my outrage revenged. Herewith he road before, leaving the right way, Galaor following some distance behind in, and by tune they had ridden the length of a mile, they came to a Fortress seated in a pleasant valley, bravely environed about with trees: the Squire then pointing him to the place, said. Now mayst thou let me go, for here I hope will be revenged the injury thou hast done me. Go thy way to all the Devils, replied Galaor, for I have enough of thy company. Scant wilt thou like my conducting, said the Squire, before thou departest from this Castle: wherewith he turned bridle and away, but Galaor followed the path that guided to the Castle, which in his judgement was but newly edified, and being come to the Gate, he saw within a Knight armed mounted on horseback, attended on by five Halberdiers, provided to forbid entrance into the Castle: who coming to him, demanded if he were the man that abused their Squire. I know not, answered Galaor, whether he be your Squire or no, but hither am I come by the conduct of a varlet, the most audacious Rogue that ever I knew. It may be so, replied the Knight of the Castle: but what would you have in this place? Sir, quoth Galaor, I am sore wounded, and seek for one to give me help. Enter then, said the Knight. Galaor road in, but presently the Knight and his Soldiers very fiercely assailed him, yet the first that came before him, thinking to strike at his head with his Halberd, was followed so near: as Galaor snatched his weapon out of his hand, giving the Knight such a wound therewith, that he fell down dead. Then entering among the other, he gave them so many rough and sharp charges, as in the end three of them were slain outright, the other two fled so fast as they could into the Castle: and Galaor would have pursued them, but that his Squire cried to him: My Lord take your Arms, for within me thinks I hear a great rumour of people, myself 〈◊〉 take this hatche● to assist ye if you stand in need: and although I am unworthy the order of chivalry, yet will & defend my Lord to my uttermost ability: so threw he down the hatchet, taking up a Halberd and a Shield belonging to one of them that were slain. Assure thyself, answered Galaor, so soon as I find him that gave me Knighthood, thou shalt for thy forwardness likewise have ●●i●e. So passing further, they saw two other armed Knights come forth, and ten Soldiers with them, who were brought out at the gate by the other that fled away. Now was the Squire that conducted Galaor to this Castle, standing showing himself at one of the Casements, and he cried aloud to this fresh supply: Kill him, kill him, but save his horse to do me service. Galaor looking up, presently knew him, at whose words his heart was so enraged, that he fiercely ran to meet the new assailants: in which encounter their lances brake, especially Galaor on him who gave the first charge, as he made him sure enough from ever bearing arms afterward. Then setting hand to Sword advanced himself to the other, delivering him so sound a greeting, that he tumbled from his Horse with his heels upward: and turning to the Halberdiers on foot, he saw his Squire had dispatched two of them, wherefore to hearten him the more, he thus cried to him. My friend thou hast begun very well, not one of the rest shall escape us, because such villains are unworthy to live. When the Squire that was in the window saw this bloody con 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 ran up a Ladder into a high Tower, crying ●ut so loud as he could in this manner. My Lord, arm yourself unless you mean to be slain. By chance Ga' 〈◊〉 understood him, whereupon he stepped aside to behold 〈◊〉 should ensue, when presently he saw a Knight came 〈◊〉, and one bringing a Horse for him ready to 〈◊〉 but 〈◊〉 stepping between, laid hand on the b●i●le, giving these speeches to the Knight. another time Sir, 〈◊〉 to ●●ount yourself sooner, for I have occasion to use 〈◊〉 Horse, and mean to keep him till you can get him 〈◊〉. Greatly astonished was the Knight when he heard him, because all this while he had not seen him, wherefore he returned this answer. Are you he that have slain my two Nephews, and the other here in the Castle? I know not who you ask for, replied Galaor, but this I can assure ye, how I found here the most disloyal and bad minded people, that ever I dealt withal. I tell thee, said the knight, they whom thou hast slain were better than thou art, and dearly shalt thou pay for thy boldness. hereupon they began a fierce and cruel combat on foot, for the Knight of the Castle was a man of great valour, and such as had seen this dangerous fight, would have marveled that they could endure half so many blows. Yet in the end, the Knight found himself too weak for Galaor, wherefore he thought to save himself by flight: but he was followed so near, as having entered a porch, he was constrained to leap out at a window, and falling on a great heap of stones, with weight of his armour broke his neck. When Galaor saw his desperate end, he returned back cursing the Castle and the wicked inhabitants, and passing by a chamber, he heard a very doleful voice crying: Ah my Lord, leave me not to suffer any more. Galaor stepping nearer, said. Open the door then. Ah Sir, I cannot, answered the voice, for I am tied with a strong chain. By these words, Galaor knew well it was some prisoner, wherefore he ran against the door with his foot so strongly, that he made it fly from off the hinges, and entering, beheld a fair damosel tied by the neck with a great chain, who thus spoke to Galaor. Alas my Lord, what is become of the master of this Castle and his company? They be all dead, quoth he, for coming hither to seek cure for a wound I received in fight, they caused me to enter, and afterward set upon me: but by the help of God I have so well defended myself, as they shall never d●● 〈…〉 to any living body, Heaven be praised, answered the damosel, for your happy success, and leave ●●e not in this misery, for being delivered, right soon shall I make whole and sound your wounds. Presently did Galaor break the chain, and the damosel took out of a coffer two little bottles, with other precious things belonging to the Lord of the Castle, and so came down together into the Court: where Galaor perceived how the first Knight he jousted withal was not yet dead, but travailing to his end, wherefore to let him languish no longer, he so trampled on his breast with his horse feet, as quickly his soul forsook the body, afterward they road away devising on many matters.  
This damosel was wife, well governed and of good grace, whereby she could so quaintly answer and entreat Galaor, that he became highly enamoured of her: and being able to endure no longer this kindled fire of affection, thought good to make some proof if she would love him, whereupon he thus began. You know (fair damosel and my friend) that I have delivered you from prison, but in giving you liberty, I am become myself captive, and brought into great danger unless you help me. You may be well assured my Lord, quoth she, that the matter were very difficult, wherein I would not obey you, standing so deeply bounden to you as I do: for otherwise I might be reckoned among the most ingrateful women of the world, considering the misery you so lately delivered me from▪ and therefore do I remain at your disposition. In these familiar conferences they proceeded so far, as the execution of this hot love soon after followed, tasting together the benefit of such content, as other may do the like that have so good fortune: and thus merrily they pass this night, in the Pavilion of certain Hunters they met withal in this Forest, So Galaor receined by this damosel, ease of his new wound love had made, and cure of the other he got in sight.  
For certain days they remained in this wood, during 〈…〉 the damosel told him, how she was daughter to 〈◊〉 the Fleming, not long since County of Claire by the gift of King Lisuart, and a Lady whom he had often entreated as his friend. But one day, quoth she, being with my Mother in a Monastery not far hence, the Lord of this Castle (whom you have slain) demanded me in marriage, and because my parents misliked thereof, by reason of his ungracious behaviour: he watched a day when I was sporting among other damsels, from whom he forcibly carried me away, furiously thrusting me into the prison where ye found me, saying. Be well assured Damosel, that seeing thou hast disdained to match with me in marriage, and made so little account of my great renown: while thou livest thou shalt not depart hence, till thy Mother and the rest of thy kindred come entreat me to take thee as my wife. Perceiving how severely he was bend against me, I set down my rest on patient hope, thinking it better for a time to endure that captivity, then by making him my Husband suffer a worse. Great reason had ye therein, answered Galaor, but tell me now I pray ye, at parting hence what shall become of you? for I am constrained to make little stay, and must travail very far, being too much trouble for you to follow me. I desire ye, quoth she, conduct me to the Monastery from whence I was taken, for my Mother is there, who will be right joyful to see me at liberty. With all my heart, replied Galaor: so mounting on horsseback, about Sun setting they arrived at the Monastery, where they were received with great joy, especially when the damosel had declared his worthy deeds of chivalry for her: and albeit he determined a speedy departure, yet at the request of the fair Sisters, he tarried there longer than before he intended. Here pauseth the Author on this matter, to tell ye what happened to the Prince Agraies, since his return from the wars in Gaul.   

CHAP. XVII. ¶ What were the adventures of the Prince Agraies, since his return from Gaul, where he left Am●●●●.  
AGraies returned from his enterprise in Gaul, after Ama●●● had vanquished King Agraies of Ireland, and was known to his Father and mother as you have heard: addressed his journey toward Norway, where he hoped to find his Lady Olivia. Riding one day along somewhat near the Sea side, on a sudden he had a Hart in chase, which when he had some pretty while pursued, he gained at length the top of a mountain, from whence he might easily discern the raging bellows of the Sea. Suddenly arose an exceeding great tempest, which with mighty winds so troubled the water, and the thunder rattled with such violence, as if heaven and the neither region would have met together. At length he espied a Ship tossed in the tempest, utterly destitute of any safety, and (which was worse) subject to the mercy of a dark comfortless night ensuing: wherewith he being moved to pity, commanded his Squires (as asignall) to make certain blazes of fire, that they in the Ship might choose their best landing place, without perishing in the dark, himself minding to stay to see the end: which happened so well, by the help of God and diligence of the Mariners, as the Ship took safe harbour near where Agraies was, when they landed certain Ladies, who were greatly frighted with the merciless tempest thinking they could not have escaped so long. Agraies being one of the most courteous Princes in the world, sée●●● them so well landed and free from danger▪ sent one of ●is S●●es, to will them come and refresh themselves in ●is Pavilion: which gentleness they refused not, and because he was loath to be troublesome to them, knowing they had now need of nothing more than rest, he concluded this night not to see them, keeping himself close in his chamber. The Ladies being separated to their own contentment, the Mariners made great fires on the shore to dry their garments, and afterward fell to sleeping that they wakened not till next morning. Agraies desirous to see strange women, yet more to serve and honour them, then remove his affection from where it was settled: privily pried in to behold their countenances, they being round set about a fire, reciting to each other pleasantly their passed danger. As thus he listened their discourses, among the rest he knew the Princess Olivia, toward whom he was travailing by virtue of her message: and you must imagine him so entirely addicted to her service, as also she in affection to him, that they might well be termed happy in their love. No sooner had Agraies espied her, but he was so overcome therewith, as being no longer able to dissemble, having before his eyes her so late peril of shipwreck, he breathed forth a vehement sigh, saying: Ah divine comfort, help me. When the Ladies heard this cry, especially Olivia, thinking some one of their company was not well, commanded her women to open the door: which presently they did, when Agraies told one of them who he was, that she might secretly impart he same to her Mistress, the news whereof were so welcome to her, as immediately she commanded him to enter. Then were embracings and kisses freely intercoursed, with all other gracious favours so kind lovers could devise, even the very point wherein love most triumpheth: so that the fair Princess lost the name of a maiden, with like contentment as other who have assayed, and can more than imagine what I mean. So pleasing was this happy meeting, as they sojourned there sir days together, beguiling the time with reciprocal courtesies, yet so secretly, as none in the company (except her 〈◊〉 Damoselles) perceived.  
Mean while the Sea became navigable, the weather fair, and the waters calm: which made the Princess determine to go aboard her Ship, that she might pass into great Britain▪ whether the King her Father had sent her, to be nourished by the Queen Brisana. Which being understood by Agraies, after he had acquainted her with the cause of his journey, he gave her assurance: that very shortly he would come to her, as well to show her his faithful service, as also to seek his Cousin Amadis in King Lisuartes Court, according as he made him promise, wherewith she was not a little contented, desiring him earnestly not to tarry long from her. Thus courteously taking leave of each other, the Princess Olivia departed under sail, and in few days after they landed in great Britain, when coming to Windsor where King Lisuart kept his court: both by him, the Queen, Oriana, and all the other Ladies, was the Princess and her train graciously welcomed, as well to honour the King her Father, as also in respect of her excellent beauty.  
Now remained Agraies on the Sea shore, giving many a long look after the Ship which carried away the jewel of his heart, and having lost the sight of it, he took his way to Briantes a right good town in Scotland, where the King his Father sojourned, and his Uncle Galuanes without land, in whose company he intended shortly to visit King Lisuartes Court. For there, quoth he to Galuanes, shall we find more good Knights, then in any other Court of King christian, there likewise may we gain honour and renown better than in Scotland: where we have none to try ourselves against, unless some few that slenderly follow arms. This Galuanes was of gentle heart & a good Knight, desirous among other to reach the top of honour, yet of simple ability as you have heard before: now the enterprise of these twain thus concluded, after they had obtained licence of the King, they went on board with their Horse and Armour, each one likewise a Squire attending on him, Having wind at will, in short time they landed at Bristol, where they made no long abode, but riding through a Forest, they met a damosel who demanded of them, if that way would conduct her to the Rock of Galteres. No, quoth they, but tell us damosel why you travail thither? To see if I can find the good Knight, said she, who knoweth how to remedy a grief I endure at this present. You abuse yourself damosel, answered Agraies, for at the Rock you demand, you shall find no other Knight then the great Giant Albadan, to whom if you bring any cause of sorrow, he will quickly double it on your own head. If you knew so much as I do, quoth the damosel, you would not imagine me to be abused; because the Knight I ask for hath vanquished the Giant, and killed him in battle hand to hand. Believe me Virgin, replied Galuanes, you tell us matter of great marvel, in respect never any Knight dealt alone with a Giant, unless it was King Abies of Ireland, who combated with one, himself being armed, and the Giant naked, which was the cause of his death, and yet this attempt of the King, is thought the greatest stratagem that ever was heard of: then sound not your speeches to any likelihood, for this Giant surpasseth all other in strength and cruelty. Gentleman, answered the damosel, the Knight I speak of hath done no less than I told ye: wherewith she rehearsed the whole manner thereof, they reputing it strange & almost incredible, which caused Agraies to ask her, if she knew the Knights name. His name (quoth she) is Galaor, Son to King Perion of Gaul. Ah Lady, said Agraies, you declare the only news of the world to content me withal, naming my Cousin, who more commonly was reputed dead then living: kéer-upon he reported to Galuanes, what he had heard concerning Galaor, how he was taken away by the Giant, and till this instant he never heard of him. By my faith, answered Galuanes, the life of him and his brother is miraculous, and their beginning of chivalry so famous, as I think their like is not to be found through the world, but damosel, what would you have with that Knight? My Lord, quoth she, I seek his aid on the behalf of a damosel, who is imprisoned by the accusation of a Dwarf, the most villainous creature that ever was borne: hereto she added the whole discourse of Galaor and the Dwarf, as hath been already declared to you, yet she concealed the lovely prank of Aldena. And because Sir, said she, the damosel will not confirm what the Dwarf hath avouched, the Duke of Bristoya hath sworn, that within ten days she shall be burned alive: which is an occasion of great grief to the other Ladies, doubting lest she through fear of death will accuse some of them, and tell withal to what end Galaor came into the Duke's Castle: moreover, of the ten days, four are already expired. Seeing it falleth out so, answered Agraies, you need travail no further, for we will perform what Galaor should do, if not in strength, yet in good will, and therefore be you our guide to the place. The damosel turned her haqueney, and led them with such speed to the Duke's Castle, that they arrived there the day before the execution should be. Now was the Duke set down to dinner, when the two Knights entering the great hall, humbly saluted him, and when he saw them, he requested they would sit down to dinner with him: but they answered▪ that he should presetly know the cause of their coming, whereupon Galuanes thus began. My Lord, you detain a damosel prisoner, by the false & disloyal accusation of a traitorous Dwarf, we desire that she may be delivered, seeing she hath no way misdone: and if it be needful to prove her innocency by battle, let come two other Knights to maintain the quarrel for we are ready as her defenders. Well have you said, replied the Duke: and calling for the Dwarf, thus spoke to him. What answerest thou to these knights challenge, who say that falsely thou hast caused me to imprison the damosel, and will prove it against thee in open battle? it behoveth thee to find some defence for thyself, For that I am not to seek my Lord, quoth the Dwarf, I have such on my behalf, who shall make known the truth of what I have said. herewith he called a frolic Knight his Nephew, so like him in pitch and proportion, as one would have thought he had no other Father, to him he said. I pray ye Nephew maintain my quarrel against these two Knights. Scarce had he thus spoken, but his Nephew returned this answer to Galuanes and his companion. Well Gentlemen, what will you say against this loyal Dwarf, who was so injured by the Knight the the false damosel brought hither? it may be one of you is the man I speak off: but whether it be or no, I will prove in combat he dealt villainously, and the damosel ought to die, because she brought him into my Lord the Duke's chamber. Agraies who found himself most touched in his own conceit, stepped forth with this answer. In sooth, neither of us is the man, albeit we desire to imitate his virtues, but we avouch he hath done no wrong, and if the Duke please, this difference shall be soon decided: for on his behalf will I maintain, that the damosel ought to be delivered, and the Dwarf in her stead burned as a traitorous villain. I justify the contrary, replied the dwarfs champion: then calling for his Armour, full soon was he mounted on a gentle courser, and turning to Agraies who presented him the combat, thus spoke. Would God Knight thou wert the man by whom this quarrel began, too high a price should I set on thy 〈◊〉. We shall quickly see, quoth Agraies, what thou ca●● d●● but 〈◊〉 a● assured if he were present, he would make no account of two such bragger's as thou art, how just or unjust the cause were on his side: by greater reason than do I leave thee to judge, how notably he would handle thee in this, consisting on truth and equity. While these menaces thus passed on either side, the Duke stirred not from the table till dinner was done, when seeing the knights prepare● to execute their speeches, he conducted them with a brave company of Gentlemen, to the place appointed to end such controversies, where all accustomed ceremonies being observed, the Duke thus spoke to Agraies. Perform the uttermost of your ability, yet shall not the damosel be delivered: for to the Dwarf hath not been offered injury alone, but to such beside as are of higher reckoning then yourself. My Lord, quoth Agraies, you caused her to be apprehended only by his false accusation, and he hath deceived your judgement with a lie: wherefore if my fortune make me conqueror, you ought by good reason to deliver her. I have told ye what I mean to do, said the Duke, and otherwise it shall not be. Agraies tarrying for no more words, turned his horse, running a brave career against the dwarfs Knight, and in the encounter broke their staves gallantly, meeting likewise so furiously with their bodies, as they were both laid along on the ground: yet quickly they recovered themselves, and vnsheathing their weapons, delivered fierce and cruel strokes to each other, their Swords being very sharp, the Knights valiant and hautilye disposed, by means whereof their Armour, helms and shields, were in short time made of slender resistance: yet Galuanes well saw, how his Nephew had still the better on his enemy, if then he had before esteemed him a good Knight, far greater reason had he now so to do: notwithstanding, he was so hot and vigorous, as often times he seemed out of breath, which made every one imagine (regarding his violence) that he could not long endure. But in him it proved far otherwise, for the longer the combat endured, his courage and strength the more increased, by reason whereof he became the conqueror, as shall hereafter be declared. The Nephew to the Dwarf found himself so hardly handled, as he drew back a little, thus speaking to Agraies. Me thinks Sir Knight we have made proof enough, of what we are able to perform in these affairs, wherefore I am of the opinion, that he whose quarrel I undertake, and the other for whom you entered fight: are not faulty in any thing wherewith they are charged, otherwise our combat could not thus long have endured, but victory would fall to one of us. Well hast thou said, answered Agraies, that the Knight for whom I venture is just and loyal, but the Dwarf is a villain and a traitor: nor will I suffer thee to rest, till with thine own mouth thou confess as much, defend thyself therefore better than thou hast done. These angry words did somewhat elevate the dwarfs Knights courage, but he had lost so much blood, that he was no longer able to hold out, by means whereof Agraies took his pleasure on him, because the other did nothing but defend his strokes: which when the Duke beheld, by reason he favoured him, he was highly displeased, and to shun the sight of his death, departed toward his Castle, swearing thence forward to work revenge for him on all Knights errant, by doing them all the shame he could possibly devise. He being in this fury spoke so loud, as Galuanes overheard him, wherefore he thus answered. Duke thou dost enterprise a great war, especially against such as are known to more worthy Lords than thou art, seeking thus to smother up the blame of others. As thus he contended with the Duke, the dwarfs champion fell at Agraies feet, who immediately snatching off his Helmet, caught him by the head, giving him many blows with the hilts of his Sword on the face, saying. Confess the disloyalty of the Dwarf, otherwise thy life is at an end. Ah gentle knight, quoth he, give me my life, for I truly confess, that he who you fight for is virtuous & loyal, and promise withal to gain the damsels release from imprisonment: but for God's sake I desire ye, let me not reprove the Dwarf mine Uncle with treason. These words were by all the assistants easily understood, which moving Agraies to pity, he thus answered. For the Dwarf I will do nothing, but for you being a good Knight, I grant the favour of your discharge: provided that you labour to your uttermost for the damsels release from prison, according as you have faithfully promised.  
All this while the Duke heard none of these words, because he was gone somewhat further off: but Galuanes laid hold on his horsse-bridle, saying. By God (Duke) you shall not depart hence, until you have seen the extremity of your Champion: for he is either dead or vanquished, what answer then make ye concerning the damsels right, and the treacherous injury offered her by the Dwarf? What? said the Duke, thinkest thou I will break mine oath, or do any otherwise then I have determined? I know not, quoth Galuanes, what conclusion you have appointed. Marry this, replied the Duke, that she shallbe to morrow morning burned, if she tell not what moved her, to cause the Knight come hither whom she conducted. Why? quoth Galuanes, will ye not then deliver her? No, said the Duke, and if thou provide not for thy speedy departure out of my country, thou shalt well know that thou hast displeased me. Is it true? answered Galuanes, do ye threaten me contrary to all equity, and will not discharge the damosel so honourably justified? By heaven henceforth I defy thee, as well on mine own behalf, as all other knights errant whatsoever. Very well, quoth the Duke, the like do I to th●e, and all such as thou resemblest. So went the Duke into his Castle, and Galuanes returned in an exceeding chafe to Agraies, but rejoicing at his nephews glorious victory, he somewhat qualified his angry choler: yet did he tell him all the Duke's menaces, and what deffaunce had passed on either side, wherewith Agraies was very much moved, chiefly for the wrong he threatened to the damosel, whereupon he thus replied. In soothe my Lord and Uncle, it is against all reason, that such a palliard as the Duke, possessed of so great a Signory, should carry so vile and bad a mind. Having thus spoken, he called for his horse, which being brought him he mounted thereon, speaking thus to the vanquished Knight. My friend remember your promise, and accomplish it so soon as you can, that the damosel may be released from her imprisonment. In good faith, quoth he, I will perform my uttermost ability therein. So road away Agraies and Galuanes toward the Forest of Arinida, where when they entered, Galuanes thus began. You know Nephew, that I have defied the Duke, in respect of the injury he offered us: but if I might give advise, I would think it good for us, to ambush ourselves a while in this wood, where we may easily take him or some of his. I promise ye, said Agraies, I like well your council: wherefore without passing any further, they made choice of a little thicket, where they alighted, sending their Squires to the town to provide them victuals.  
On the other side, the Duke (as you have heard) being withdrawn to his Castle, grew into such displeasure against the damosel, as he thought presently to send her to the fire: whereupon he called for her, and willed her now to have mind on her soul, because the next morning she should be burned, if quickly she declared not the truth of the Knight: but all these threatenings could not draw one word from her. Now because the vanquished Knight had promised Agraies, to labour for her deliverance to the Duke, so soon as he returned from the field, he came and fell on his knees before the Duke: beseeching him most instantly to grant, what he had promised on the Lady's behalf. But the Duke by all means excused the matter, saying he had solemnly vowed she should die, if she revealed not the thing he was so desirous to know. Therefore, quoth he, I will rather consent to the ruin of my whole estate, then in one jot to the breach of my oath. In this manner was the Knight denied, and the next morning very early he sent for the damosel, to whom he spoke thus as followeth. Thou lewd and disobedient woman, now make choice of the fire, or resolve me in the matter I have demanded, for one of them thou must do. My Lord, qu●th she, you may appoint what you think good: but if I die in this manner, it will be against all law and reason. Presently he committed her to two Sergeants at arms, accompanied with ten Knights well provided for their defence: and for the more surety that she should not be rescued, himself mounted in person on a goodly great horse, then leaving the town, along they ride thorough the fields by the Forest side, and being come to the place prepared for execution, he commanded forthwith she should be thrown into the fire, saying: Let the stubborn strumpet die in her obstinacy. But Agraies and Galuanes being ready armed to adventure their fortune, discerned when the troop came from the town toward the Forest, wherefore without longer tarrying, (having given express charge to one of their Squires, to have especial care of the damsels safety) s●yly left their ambush, beholding the poor maiden ready for the fire, when she perceiving her present danger, cried to the Duke, that she would tell what he desired, only to delay the time of her death. The Duke believing she intended as she said, came to her, when suddenly he espied Agraies and Galuanes galloping toward him, calling so loud that he might easily hear them: Duke, now shalt thou be forced to deliver the damosel. At these words were all the Duke's Knights greatly astonished, yet prepared they for their own defence, whereupon began between them a fierce and cruel fight. Now though Agraies and Galuanes were alone against so many, yet did they so bravely behave themselves, as at the first onset they quailed the greater part of them, before they could devise which way to turn themselves: whereat the Duke was so amazed, that fearing his own death was near at hand, he withdrew himself behind his men, yet Galuanes perceived it, wherefore he cried to him. Traitorous Duke, this day thou beginnest to feel the war thou didst enterprise against Knights errant: then rushing through the press, he minded to charge the Duke, but he retired aside, willing his Knights to kill their enemy's horses, which they on soot might easily compass. In brief these two champions showed such chivalry on their footmen, as they were vanquished and driven to flight, the most of them so cruelly wounded, that they were scant able to keep themselves on horse back in their escaping away: and the Duke who was better mounted then any of them, made such haste, as he brought the first news hereof to the town, being eagerly pursued a while by Galuanes, but when he saw it was in vain, he returned to the Forest, where he found his Nephew and the Squires with the damosel.  
Such was the rescue of the poor maiden, and shameful foil of the Duke, who being arrived at the town, caused with all speed a great number to arm themselves, returning to the Forest to revenge their late injury, thinking to find the Knights there as yet, but they were dislodged: wherefore failing of their purpose, they dispersed themselves in several troops, by five and five in a company to seek them, the Duke likewise being one in the search, having four of the best Knights he could make choice off. And as they road along in a valley, he espied the Knights conducting the damosel, wherefore he said to his men. Behold (my friends) the traitors we are to deal withal, let us set on them before they get leisure to escape: for if they gain but a sight of us, they will run away faster than ever we did. But Galuanes espied them ere they came near, and showed them to his Nephew Agraies, who he thought was over-weried with the last assault, which made him say. We already have felt what these villains can do, but now must we warily defend ourselves, that we be no more followed in this sort. I know the Duke to be he comes foremost, if good hap befall us, I hope he shall have his payment first of all: be now (good Nephew) mindful of your wunted courage, having passed through greater dangers than this can be. Why Uncle? quoth Agraies, in time of peril do you think I will forget myself? especially being in your company? dream of no such matter I pray ye, but let us serve these as we did their companions. By time he had thus spoken, the Duke gave the spurs to his horse, and coming near them, said. I am sorry villains you should die so honourably, but afterward I mean to hang ye by the heels on the tops of these trees. Galuanes and Agraies buckled close with them, showing how much they despised such shameful burial: on the other side, the Duke and his Knights stuck to it closely, especially himself, to whom Agraies came, and angrily reached him such a blow with his sword beneath the sight of his Helmet, as quite cut away the nostrils from his face. The Duke imagining himself wounded to the death, turned his back and fled, Agraies following him, but seeing he could not overtake him, he commended him to all the devils, returning to secure Galuanes, whom the other four had very sore laboured▪ yet did he hold out so courageously, as none of them durst come near him: for one was tumbled headlong from his horse, not showing any motion of life was left in him. Agraies being now come from pursuing the Duke, buckled so closely with the first he met, as he fell down deprived of life: so that there remained but two, who found themselves too weak to uphold the honour of the vanquished, and therefore trusted to the speed of their Horses, following the first runaway toward the Forest, by which means they escaped the fury of Agraies and Galuanes, they suffering them to enjoy that benefit, & returned where the damosel attended for them, of whom they demanded, if any town or place of lodging were near. Gentlemen, quoth she, I know the dwelling of a Knight hard by, named Oliuas, who is mortal enemy to the Duke, by reason he slew a Cousin of his, which makes me think he will the better welcome us. Be you our guide thither, said Galuanes, and so she was, they being very kindly entertained there, especially when he knew what had happened. On the morrow they took their leave of Oliuas, but calling them aside, he thus spoke. Gentlemen, the Duke treacherously killed a Cousin germane of mine, who was a good Knight, wherefore I am determined to accuse and combat with him before King Lisuart. Now since I understand you are Knights errant, and such as know how, or else yourselves can redress the wrongs offered to the unable, yea, by them who (without care of God or their honour) durst proceed so far: I desire you to give me your counsel and support. In sooth, answered Galuanes, you are deeply bound to prosecute the murder, being committed in such shameful manner, and we will assist ye in your quarrel on so just a cause: if the duke will bring any Knights to maintain his wrong, we will be for you; for so little account makes he of us, that he hath openly given us defiance. Most heartily I thank ye, replied the Knight, and for this cause I will go with ye if you please. Content quoth they. hereupon Oliuas armed himself, and so they road together to Windesore, where they had good hope to find King Lisuart.   

CHAP. XVIII. ¶ How Amadis tarrying with his good will in the Court of King Lisuart, heard tidings of his brother Galaor.  
BY the discourse past you have understood, how Amadis (after he had in open field foiled and overcome the audacious proud Dardan,) was stayed in King Lisuarts Court by the Lady's request, expressly to be the Queen's Knight: his entertainment by the King, favour and manifold other courtesies, you have likewise heard. It now came so to pass, that as he was one day devising among the Ladies, a damosel entered the queens chamber, who falling on her knees before the Queen, said. Madame, is not a Knight here that beareth azured Lions in his arms? The Queen perceiving she meant Amadis, answered. damosel, what would you with him? Madame, quoth she, I have brought him tidings of a new Knight, who hath begun in deeds of Arms so rarely as ever did any. You speak very much, answered the Queen: but you perhaps being acquainted with none but him, think therefore he is beyond all other. It may be so, replied the damosel, yet when you understand what he hath accomplished, I think yourself will agree to my saying. I pray ye then, quoth the Queen, tell us what he is. When I see the good Knight, answered the damosel, he who carrieth such estimation from all other: I will tell him in your presence, and other news which I am charged to acquaint him withal. The Queen was now more desirous to know him then before, wherefore showing her Amadis, she said. See here (damosel) the man you ask for. Madame, quoth she, in respect you speak it, I believe it, for a Queen of such state as you are, is free from beguiling: then coming to Amadis, she thus proceeded. My Lord, the young Gentleman whom not long since you Knighted before the Castle of Bradoid, when you vanquished the two Knights on the bridge, and the other on the causey, where you took the Master thereof prisoner, and delivered by force of arms the friend to Vrganda: most humbly saluteth you by me, being the man whom he reputeth as his Lord, and giveth you to know, how he endeavoureth to reach the height of honour, which he will attain, or die in the attempt: likewise when he shall perform somewhat worthy the name of Chivalry, he will acquaint you with more than yet you know, until which time he shrouds it in silence. Amadis soon remembered ●he spoke of his brother, wherefore with joy the tears dewed his cheeks, and the Ladies well noting this alteration, marveled thereat, especially Oriana: who (as you have heard heretofore) was grounded in such affection toward him, as she was well near deprived of power to dissemble it. In mean while, the Queen desirous to hear what deeds of prowess the new Knight had performed, said to the damosel, I pray ye continue your message, and tell us the brave beginning of chivalry you spoke of. Madame, quoth she, the first place where he made proof of himself, was at the Rock of Galteres, where he combated with the great and terrible Giant Albadan, whom (in open field hand to hand) he overcame and slew: hereto she added the manner of the fight, assuring her that she had seen the same. Greatly were all the hearers abashed at these news, but above all the rest the Queen: who demanded of the damosel, if she knew whether he travailed from thence. Madame, quoth she, I parted from him soon after, leaving him in the company of a damosel, who came from her Mistress to seek him, because she was desirous to know him, at which time he went with her, and since I never saw him. What think you hereof Sir Amadis? said the Queen, do not you know of whence he is? Yes truly Madame, answered Amadis, although I can say but little herein: I think he be mine own brother, for so Vrganda not long since assured me. Doubtless, quoth the Queen, the fortune of you both is admirable, and I marvel how you could come to the knowledge of your Parents, or they of you? yet would I be glad to see that Knight in the King's service. While these speeches endured, Oriana who sat far from the Queen, and heard none of these news, was in such grief to see Amadis shed tears, as being unable to conceal the same, she said to Mabila. I pray ye (fair friend) call your Cousin Amadis,, that we may know what hath happened to cause him mourn. Mabila made a sign to Amadis to come, and when he was with them, Oriana showing her self somewhat grieved, thus began. Sir Amadis, it may full well be said, that by some Lady you are now moved to pity, I pray ye tell us what she is, and from whence this damosel brought you these tidings. Amadis quickly perceived his Mistress' disease, wherefore he declared all that the damosel told the Queen: which appeased the jealousy of this hot lover, & made her show more amiable countenance, thus speaking to Amadis. Alas my Lord, I must entreat ye to pardon the fault, raised only by fond suspicion against you. I promise ye Madame, quoth he, there is no cause of pardon, nor did my heart ever think amiss against you: but could you like thereof, that I should go seek him the damosel departed from, and bring him hither with me to serve you? for this I am assured, if I bring him not, it will be very hard to get him hither. Believe me, answered Oriana, I could gladly with so good a Knight in this company, and therefore I think you shall do well to go seek him: yet before you depart, acquaint the Queen herewith, that she may imagine, how by her commandment only, you enterprise this journey. Humbly did Amadis regratiate his Mistress, and according to her council he went to the Queen, to whom he began in this manner. It were good in mine opinion. Madame, that the King had this Knight likewise to attend on his service. Certes, quoth she, I would it might be so if it were possible. If you will grant me leave, said Amadis, to go find him, I have no doubt of bringing him hither: otherwise I know you shall hardly see him, till he have made himself known in many other places. You do very much for the King, quoth she, if he do come, nevertheless, I refer it to your own discretion.  
Thus Amadis obtained licence to departed, which he did very early the next morning, having no other company than Gandalin, and spending most part of the day riding through a Forest, he saw a Lady come toward him, accompanied with two Damosels and four Squires: who weeping very grievously, conducted a Knight in a Litter, whereat Amadis being abashed, demanded what moved them to be so sorrowful, and what he was they had in the Litter. He is, quoth the Lady, the only cause of my care and pensiveness, my Lord and husband, who is wounded in such sort as I fear his death. Amadis advanced himself to behold the man, and lifting up the coverture of the Litter, saw a Knight lie there of goodly parsonage: but of his face he could make no judgement, by reason it was cruelly cut and mangled, whereupon he called to him, saying. My friend, who hath thus wronged thee? yet did the Knight make no answer, which made him go to the Lady again and ask her the question. Gentle Sir, quoth she, a Knight that keepeth a bridge not far hence, did it, who as we passed by said to my Lord, how he must swear whether he were of King Lisuarts Court or no: which made my husband demand why he would know. Because, said the Knight, no friend of his shall pass here, but I will kill him. What is the occasion of your hatred? replied my husband. I wish so much ill, quoth the Knight, to that ungracious King, as I would gladly have him in my power, to take vengeance on him at mine own pleasure: and in despite of him, henceforth shall I slay all such as are belonging to him, because he keepeth a Knight that killed the valiant Dardan, for whose sake I mean to deal in such sort, as the King and his well-willers shall receive by me infinite displeasures & dishonours. When my Husband heard him, as one aggrieved at his villainous speeches, he answered. Know thou that I am one of his Court, and his vowed servant, who neither for thee or any other will deny him. Highly displeased was the Knight of the bridge with this answer, and without any more words charged my husband, so that between them grew a cruel combat: but in the end, my Lord was brought into this hard extremity, and far more worse in the Knight's opinion, for he reputed him to be slain outright, commanding us within three days, to carry him before King Lisuart to despite him withal. Lady, quoth Amadis, I pray ye lend me one of your Squires, who can show me the Knight when I come where he is: for seeing your husband hath been so wronged for my sake, it behoveth me more than any other to revenge the same. What? said the Lady, are you he for whose cause he so hateth the King? Yea verily, answered Amadis, and if my hap prove so good, he shall never here▪ after abuse any other. Ah gentle Knight, quoth she, I will pray for your prosperous success. Afterward she gave him one of her Squires, and committing him to God, road on with her husband, and Amadis never stayed till he came to the bridge, where he saw the Knight playing at the Tables with an other: but quickly leaving his pastime, being ready armed, he mounted on horseback, calling to Amadis in this manner. Holla, holla Sirrah, I forbidden ye to pass any further till you have sworn. What shall I swear? answered Amadis. Whether thou be of King Lisuarts Court or no, said the Knight: for if thou belong to him, here must thou leave thy head behind thee. It is a question, quoth Amadis, if thou canst do so much: but I assure thee I belong to the Queen his wife, ever since not long ago. Since when? replied the Knight. Since a disinherited Lady, said Amadis, came thither for her right. But thou art not he, quoth the Knight, that foughtest the Combat for her? I am the man, answered Amadis, who won her her peace. By my head, said the Knight, now shalt thou lose thine if I can, for thou didst kill the only honour of my lineage. I killed him not, replied Amadis, but made him discharge her of his outrageous demand, and afterward he became a murderer of himself. All this can not profit thee, quoth the Knight, for by thee and no other he died: now for his sake shalt thou likewise lose thy life. Hereupon they gave the spurs to their horses, and breaking their Lances bravely, met so furiously with their bodies, as the Knight of the bridge was thrown to the ground, whereof he was not a little ashamed: but by reason the helmet of Amadis was unlaced in the running, while he amended it, the Knight had leisure to mount himself again, and to give his enemy two or three strokes with the sword, before he had time to draw forth his. All which afterward he very well requited, for striking full at his head, he broke away the skirts of his helmet, and redoubling his blow, met so directly with his neck, as his head hung down behind his shoulders, his soul passing to the Author of his pride & cruelty. When his gardants of the bridge saw him thus slain, they trusted to their heels, yet Amadis would not follow them, but returned to the Squire that conducted him thither: willing him to make haste to his Lady, and let her understand how he had revenged her husband's injury: which he immediately did, not sparing the worthy attaints at Sword & Lance, which he had seen Amadis bestow on the Knight of the bridge.  
Amadis having there no more to do, issuing forth of the Forest, entered on a large and goodly plain, bravely beautified with Violets, sweet herbs, and all other devices of nature's tapistry, which presently provoked the remembrance of his Oriana: riding on in divers amorous thoughts, he saw come toward him an evil favoured Dwarf on a simple Palfrey, whom he called to know from whence he came. My Lord, quoth the Dwarf, I come from the house of the County of Claire. Hast thou not seen a young Knight, said Amadis, named Galaor? No truly, answered the Dwarf, but I know where (within three days) I can show you the best Knight that ever bare Arms in these parts. When Amadis heard this, thinking he had meant his brother, he said. I pray thee my friend conduct me to the place where I may see him. With all my heart, replied the Dwarf, on condition you will grant me one request, and go with me whether I shall guide ye. The great desire he had to find his brother, made him soon consent. Come with me then, quoth the Dwarf, and I will bring ye where you shall behold the good Knight. So road they on till dark night overtook them, which the Dwarf perceiving, he said to Amadis, My Lord, hard by is a Castle where we may lodge this night, for there is a Lady who will friendly welcome us. Thither they road, and had kind entertainment, when supper being ended, Amadis was brought to lodge in a sumptuous bed: but he could take no rest, his thoughts so hammered on the perfections of his Mistress. And taking leave the next morning of their friendly Hostess, continued on their journey till about midday, when they saw two Knights fight against one, than Amadis approaching to them, said. Gentlemen, may it please ye to pause awhile, and tell me on what occasion your quarrel ariseth? At these words they ceased, and one of the two thus replied. It is because this Knight maintaineth, that he alone is as able as we two together, to bring a haughty enterprise to end. In sooth, said Amadis, your difference is very slender, for the bounty of the one diminisheth no jot of the other. The Knights perceiving he spoke the truth, ended their strife, demanding of Amadis, if he knew the Knight in King Lisuarts Court, who combated for the injuried widow, whereby the good Knight Dardan was slain. Why ask ye? quoth Amadis. Because, said the Knights, we would gladly meet with him. I know not, answered Amadis, whether your meaning be good or bad, yet is it not long since I saw him in the Court of King Lisuart. Having so said, he road on his way, when the three Knights having conferred a little together, they began to gallop after him: and he no sooner heard them, but turned again, then doubting they intended some harm to him, he clasped on his Helmet and his Shield, yet had he no Lance, nor they likewise. Alas my Lord, quoth the Dwarf, what will ye do? consider you not they be three, and you alone? What matters that? answered Amadis, if they assail me without reason why, by good right I must assay for mine own defence. On these speeches, they came to him in this manner. Sir Knight, we would demand one thing of you, which we desire ye not to deny, otherwise you may not so easily escape us. The sooner shall I grant it, quoth Amadis, if it be reasonable. Tell us then as you are a loyal Gentleman, where you imagine we may find him that slew Dardan. He who could do no less than speak the truth, thus replied. I am he, albeit I would have you think, that I do not so soon fulfil your request, in respect of adding any praise to myself. When the Knights heard him, they cried altogether: Ah traitor, thou diest, and drawing their Swords, set violently upon him. Amadis offended to see himself thus assailed, by them whom erewhile he had so friendly pacified: resisted them with such resolute courage, as at the first stroke he smote one of their arms from the body, the grief whereof made him likewise fall beside his horse: the second also felt his Sword so peazantly, that he cloven his head to the very teeth, and sent him to keep his fellow company. When the third beheld their bad success, he put the spurs to his horse and got him away, but Amadis being not so well mounted, let him escape, returning to Gandalin & the Dwarf, who thus spoke. Credit me my Lord, henceforth will I trust better to your words than I did, let us now therefore make haste hence if you please. So riding along, at length the Dwarf showed him in a pleasant valley two high Pine trees, near which was a Knight mounted on a lusty Courser, and two other whom not long before he had vanquished, they running to catch their horses there strayed about the field. And looking again, he espied an other Knight lay leaning on his helmet, having his shield by him, and twenty Lances reared against the Pines, with two spare horses likewise ready furnished. My Lord, quoth the Dwarf, do you see the Gentleman that leaneth on his helmet? What then? said Amadis. He is, replied the Dwarf, the good Knight I promised to show you, Knowest thou his name? quoth Amadis. He nameth himself, answered the Dwarf, Angriote destravaus, and is the best Knight that I have heard report of. Tell me then, said Amadis, why he keepeth there so many Lances? I can therein, answered the Dwarf, full well resolve ye, listen then awhile. He loveth a Lady of this country, who hateth him above all other: nevertheless, he hath prevailed so much by fight, as her Parents were constrained to give him her. After he had gotten her into his power, he thought himself the happiest man in the world: but she told him, he should wade into no such fond opinion, because he took a young Lady against her will. And albeit, quoth she, perforce you have enjoyed me, yet while I live never shall I love ye, if you do not perform one thing for me. What Lady? answered Angriote, it is within compass of my puissance? That is it, said she. Command then sweet Madame, replied Angriote, for I will accomplish it even to the death. The Lady whose evil will was toward him exceeding great, thinking to appoint him a place most convenient for his death, or else to get him there so many enemies, as her Parents might enjoy better assistance to take her from him: entreated him and his brother to guard this vale of Pines, against all Knights errant that should pass this way, causing them by force of arms to take an oath, how they should afterward travail to King Lisuarts Court, there to confess her more beautiful than the Ladies they loved. And if it so fell out, that the brother to Angriote (whom you see on horseback) were vanquished, and could endure the combat no further: then Angriote should keep this passage alone, during the space of one whole year. For this cause they depart not hence all the day time, and at night return to a Castle on the Mountain you see at hand: having already maintained their enterprise three months, in all which time Angriote never set hand to sword against any Knight, because his brother hath still been conqueror. Trust me, said Amadis, I believe thou sayest true, and so I heard in the Court of King Lisuart, where not long since a Knight arrived, who confessed Angriotes Lady to be more fair than his friend, and me thought he called her name Grovenesa. Very true, quoth the Dwarf: but now seeing you are resolved, remember your promise to me, and bear me company as you said you would. With right good will, answered Amadis, which is the way? Even over this vale, replied the Dwarf, but because of this hindrance, as yet I think we shall very hardly pass. Care not thou for that, said Amadis: so giving his horse the spurs, he road on, and soon after he met a Squire, who thus spoke to him. Go no further Gentleman, if you will not grant the Knight's Lady under the Pine, to be more beautiful than your Mistress. Never will I yield to such a slander, replied Amadis, without force or extreme constraint. Return then, said the Squire, otherwise you must combat with them twain you see before. If they assail me, quoth Amadis, I must defend myself so well as I can: so using no more words, he road on forward.   

CHAP. XIX. ¶ How Amadis combated against Angriote & his brother, who guarded the passage of the valley, against such as would not confess, that their Ladies were inferior in beauty to Angriotes choice.  
WHen Angriotes brother saw him coming, he took up his weapons and met him, saying. Believe me Knight you have committed great folly, in not granting what our Squire gave you warning off, you must therefore enter combat with me. As for the combat, answered Amadis, I like it much better, then to confess the greatest lie in the world. I know well, said the Knight, you must do it with disadvantage in an other place. And trust me, quoth Amadis, I think not so. Stand on your own defence then, replied the Knight: wherewith they gave the career against each other, meeting together so furiously, as the Knight was unhorsed: yet held he fast the reins of his bridle, till they broke in his hand, which caused him to fall on his neck to the ground, where he lay without remembrance of himself or any other. hereupon Amadis alighted, and pulling the helmet from his head, perceived that he was in a swoon, wherefore he buffeted him in such sort, as he came to himself again. Thou art but dead, said Amadis, if thou yield not thyself my prisoner. When the Knight saw the naked Sword over his head, fearing his death, he yielded. Then Amadis mounted again, perceiving Angriote already on horsseback, ready to revenge his brother's injury: and a Squire came to the Prince, bringing him a Lance, which he presented him withal from Angriote. Soon after they encountered so gallantly, as their Lances flew in pieces without any further harm, and ending their career, Amadis quickly drew his Sword, turning to Angriote, who thus spoke. Make not such haste (Knight) to combat with the sword, because thou shalt have time enough for that anon, (this he said, in respect he reputed himself the best at the sword that might be found:) But I pray thee, quoth he, let us joust till our Lances fail, or one of us be sent to the earth. Knight, answered Amadis, I have weighty business else where, and may not trifle time with tarrying here. What? said Angriote, thinkest th●● to escape me so lightly? I promise thee it is the least part of my thought: yet I pray thee let us tire one course more. Amadis was content, and taking such Lances as each of them liked, finished the joust with such violence, as Angriote was cast down and his horse upon him. Amadis leaping from his saddle, saw that a small truncheon of a Lance had a little entered his body, yet scorning any shame should be discerned on his side, fight for the honour and beauty of his Goddess Oriana: snatched forth the truncheon, and marched with his sword drawn against Agriote, who seeing him come, said. I see sir Knight thou art very young, and me thinks before it be worse with thee, thou wert better to confess my Lady fairer than thine. Then should I lie very foully, answered Amadis, and (by my will) I shall not dissent so far from the truth. These speeches enkindled choler on either side, which made them charge each other with such vigour, as not only they that beheld them, but even themselves were driven into doubts, thinking it impossible to endure so extremely. And to say sooth the cause was hard, for Amadis undertook the honour of his Lady, for which he could rather choose a thousand deaths, than she should lose one jot of her excellence: and this opinion still whetted on his courage, that Angriote was compelled to divers simple shifts, to avoid the fierce assaults of his valiant enemy, who had wounded him in twenty several places, and he perceiving his death at hand, stepped aside thus speaking to Amadis. Believe me sir Knight, there is more valour in thee then I imagined. Yield thyself, said Amadis, so shalt thou do wisely, seeing thou art already brought into such danger, for with the finishing of our combat, thy life will likewise end: which can be no pleasure at all to me, in that I esteem of thee better than thou weenest. These words he used, as well for the brave chivalry he noted in Angriote, as also the great honesty he showed to the Lady in his possession: whereupon Angriote returned this answer. It is reason I should yield myself to the best Knight in the world, and the like all other to do that bear Arms: believe me then gentle Knight, I not so much sorrow for my foil, as the wreakful chance threatened to me, by losing this day the only thing in the world I most love. That shall you not, quoth Amadis, if I can help it, beside, the Lady should show herself very ingrateful, if she acknowledge not your honourable pains in her defence, and it cannot be, but she will requite ye with the good you have deserved. As for me, I promise ye to employ my uttermost ability, in causing her consent thereto, so soon as I shall return from a search I have now in hand. My Lord, said Angriote, in what place may I hereafter find you? In the Court of King Lisuart, answered Amadis, where (by God's help) I mean shortly to be. So took he leave of Angriote, who gladly would have had him to his Castle, but he might not be hindered of his journey.  
Thus doth Amadis follow the Dwarf, who guided him five days together without any adventure, showing him at length a marvelous strong and pleasant Castle, saying: Sir, within yonder hold you must perform the promise you made me. And I will do it for thee, answered Amadis, if it consist in my power. I am in good hope thereof, quoth the Dwarf, in respect I have seen some proof of your Fortune: but know ye Sir how the place is named? No verily, said Amadis, for till now I was never in this country. It is called Valderin, replied the Dwarf: and thus devising, they came near the Castle, when the Dwarf willed him to take his Arms. Why? said Amadis, shall we have any such need? Yea, marry, quoth the Dwarf, for they suffer none to come forth that enter so lightly. Amadis buckled on his helmet, riding in before, the Dwarf and Gandalin following after, then looking on every side they could see no creature. This place said Amadis is not inhabited, where is the request thou saidt I should do for thee? Credit me Sir, said the Dwarf, I have sometime seen here a most brave Knight, and the strongest in chivalry that ever I saw, who in that porch killed two Knights, one of them being my master, him he put to death very cruelly, without regard of favour or mercy. In revenge whereof, I would desire that traitors head, which I have long failed in obtaining, because all such as I brought hither, have lost their lives or remain here in captivity. Thou dost the part of a loyal servant, answered Amadis: yet oughtest thou to bring no Knight hither, before thou tell him against whom he shall fight. My Lord, quoth the Dwarf, the man is known well enough, & reputed for one of the best Knights in the world: therefore when I have named him, I could not meet with any so hardy as to revenge my cause. Belike than thou knowest his name, said Amadis. Yea my Lord, replied the Dwarf, he calleth himself Arcalaus the enchanter. Amadis hereupon went further in, looking round about if he might see any body: but all was in vain, wherefore to rest his horse, he stayed there till evening, saying to the Dwarf. What wilt thou I shall do now it is so late? Alas my Lord, quoth he, the night being so near at hand, me thinks it were good we departed hence. Nay trust me, answered Amadis, I will not budge hence till the Knight come, or some other that can tell me tidings of him. But I dare not tarry, said the Dwarf, lest Arcalaus chance to know me, and imagine I practise the means of his death. Yet shalt thou bear me company, replied Amadis, as I will not excuse myself from the promise I have made thee. As thus they communed, Amadis espied a court somewhat more backward, whereinto he entered and found no body: but he saw a dark place underneath, and certain steps leading into the earth. Gandalin got hold on the Dwarf, who would have run away, and Amadis took great pleasure to behold his trembling, speaking thus merrily to him. Fear not tall fellow, but let us go down these stairs to see who is beneath. My Lord, quoth the Dwarf, for God's sake spare me, nothing in the world can make me go into such a fearful place. If thou go hence, said Amadis, how wilt thou enjoy the thing I promised thee, or know that I do my endeavour therein? Ah Sir, quoth he, I acquit you, and hold myself fully satisfied. But so do not I, answered Amadis, because hereafter thou shalt not say I broke my promise. On my faith Sir, said the Dwarf, I freely discharge ye, and if you please to let me go, I will tarry for ye in the way as we came hither. Get thee gone then, replied Amadis, for here will I abide till to morrow morning attending the Knight.  
In this manner the poor Dwarf escaped thence, and Amadis went down the stairs, coming into a plain place so dark, that he could not imagine where he was: yet he proceeded on, and by groping on a wall felt a bar of iron, whereat hung a Key which he took, opening therewith a Chain that locked a porte-cullis, than heard be a lamentable voice thus complaining. Ah God, how long shall we remain in this misery? sweet death why stayest thou from succouring us, who call to thee as our last refuge? Soon after the voice ceased, which made him hold on his way, and enter a vault having his sword and shield ready: then passing further, he came into a great palace, at the entrance whereof hung a Lamp burning, and sire men laid a long a sleep, with their shields and hatchets lying by them, the best of which he took himself. They not awaking he went on by them, and soon after heard another grievous lamentation in this manner. Ah God full of pity and mercy, send death if it please thee to deliver us from this hell. Now was Amadis in worse case than before, for one of the sire Soldiers suddenly awaking, said to his fellow: Arise, take these rods & make that cursed creature sing another kind of song, who hath thus disturbed us in our sleep. Mary and I shall, answered the other: so he arose and took the rods, but as he went, he chanced to see Amadis before him, where at he was somewhat afraid, yet to be better assured, he demanded, who is there? I, quoth Amadis. What art thou? said the other. I am, quoth he, a strange Knight. Who brought thee hither, said the soldier, without any licence? No body answered Amadis, but myself alone. The worse for thee, replied the Soldier, now must thou be enclosed among these infortunate people, who cry as thou hearest. Then stepping back, he shut the door against Amadis, and waking his companions, said. My friends, I have found a strange Knight, who to his harm hath entered on his good will. Let me talk with him, answered the jailor and if I lodge him not worse than the rest, then blame me. So taking his hatchet and shield he came to Amadis with these words. Caitiff, if thou wilt not die, throw down thy weapons, lest with my hatchet I slice thy flesh, and make carbonadoes of it. Very angry was Amadis, to be thus threatened, wherefore he returned this answer. Slender is thy reason in thinking to fear me with thy words, but the devils shall affright thee a great deal more: for I will make than a present with thy soul, which so long hath given power to thy wicked body in doing evil. Presently they smote at each other with their hatchets, the jailor delivering his stroke on the helmet of Amadis, so that it entered very far therein, and Amadis cutting through the jailers shield, enforced him to throw both it and his hatchet down to stand to the only defence of his Sword: which endured not long likewise, wherefore he minded to grapple Amadis about the body, because he was a man of marvelous strength, yet could he not do so much as he meant, in respect Amadis was a Knight both stiff and sturdy. Nevertheless, the jailor gripped him very cruelly, till the Prince gave him such a blow on the face, as broke his jaw bones, which compelling him to fall down amazed, Amadis had the mean to accomplish his promise, separating with his sword the body from the soul.  
The other Soldiers that beheld this fight, not thinking the jailor was dead in deed, cried to Amadis: how on peril of his life he should not kill him, lest they likewise should send him after. I know not, answered Amadis, what may become of me, but I am certain he is safe enough for doing any more harm: herewith he drew his sword, and taking up his hatchet again, marched toward them that came against him, who charged him very sharp and roughly: yet the first he encountered with, followed the jailor, so did the second, and the fourth being smitten on his knees to the ground, had died, but he appealed for mercy, the other twain bearing him company in the same suit. Cast down your weapons, said Amadis, and show me them that complained so woefully: which they did, guiding him the way to the captives, when Amadis hearing another voice somewhat near him, demanded what he was. My Lord, replied the Soldiers, it is a Lady in extreme anguish. Open the door, quoth Amadis, that I may see her. Then one of them ran where the jailor lay dead, and taking two keys from his girdle, opened the dungeon where the Lady was enclosed: but the imagining the jailor entered, cried. Alas man, take pity on me, and oppress me with no more torments. Ah King, quoth she, breathing forth a bitter sigh: hard was my lot to be loved of thee, seeing I buy my affection so dearly. Her grievous moans moved such compassion in Amadis, as the fears trickled down his cheeks, returning her this answer. Lady, I am not the jailor that locked you here, but the man who means to deliver you hence if I can, a strange Knight, seeking my fortunes every where. Alas my Lord, said she, what is become of the jailor and his companions? He and some of them, answered Amadis, are sent to Hell to look their copesmates: than one of the Soldiers having brought a light, the Prince saw how the Lady was tied by the neck with a great chain, which had so worn and despoiled her garments, as the naked flesh appeared in many places, and when she beheld that Amadis pitied her, she thus spoke. Although (my Lord) I am at this present sequestered from all my livelood, yet time hath been, when I was the wealthy daughter to a King, and for a King you find me in this misery. Lady, quoth Amadis, it behoveth you to embrace patience, these are but the mutabilities of fortune, which no one is able to prevent or escape: and if the man for whom you have thus suffered, be of any account, or loveth you, I am sure he will convert right soon this poor estate into rich abundance, and remunerate your long sorrows with joy and gladness. So he caused the chain to be taken from her neck, commanding garments to be brought to put about her: wherefore he that brought the lights, ran for a scarlet mantle, which Arcalaus not long before gave the jailor, and cast it about the ladies shoulders. This being done, Amadis took her by the hand, conducting her forth of the dark prison, saying she should never return thither again, but he would lose his life before: and passing by where the jailor and the other lay slain, the Lady began thus to complain. Ah cruel hands, how many wounds and torments have you given me, and divers other in this Castle without desert? although your bodies at this instant cannot receive condign vengeance, your damned souls may evermore abide in sufferance. Madame, said Amadis, while I go to deliver the rest of the prisoners, I leave ye in my Squire's custody: so passing on to the Portcullis, he met the Soldier that brought the lights, saying. Sir, Arcalaus demandeth where the Knight is which entered here, whether he be dead or taken. He who carried the torch before the Prince, was so afraid at these words, that he let it fall, which Amadis made him take up again, thus speaking to him. Villain, fearest thou being in my guard? go on. Then ascending the stairs, they came into the open court, where they saw the greater part of the night was spent, the Moon shining clear, and the weather fair: but the Lady feeling the air, and beholding the heavens, was so replete with joy, that she fell on her knees before Amadis, saying. Ah gentle Knight, the Almighty protect thee, and requite the good I have received by thee, delivering me from comfortless darkness. Amadis looking round about for Gandalin, and finding him not, feared he had lost him, wherefore he said: If the best Squire in the world be dead, I shall take such revenge for his death may I but meet his murderer, as never was the like heard before. Being thus overcome with grief, he heard one cry, wherefore he ran which way he thought best, and found the Dwarf (that parted from him the night before) hanging by one leg on high at a great piece of wood, having a fire underneath him full of filthy stinking savours: and near him he espied Gandalin tied to a tree, toward whom he was going to unbind him, but he saw the Dwarf had greatest need of help, wherefore he cut the cords in twain that held him up, catching him in his arms to set him on his feet, afterward he unloosed Gandalin, saying. In soothe my friend, whosoever entreated thee thus, made little reckoning of thy good deserts. Now because he would deliver the other prisoners, he met the Lady coming forth of the Castle, as he returned back again, but going on, he found the gates fast shut against him: whereupon he stayed till day light in a corner of the Court, sitting down by the Lady, accompanied with two of the Soldiers, the Dwarf and Gandalin. And as they communed together, Gandalin showed the Prince a place whereinto he saw a horse led, which Amadis being desirous to see, came to the door and found it shut: but he ran so strongly against it with his foot, that he made it fly open, finding the horse there ready saddled and bridled, whereon he mounted, attending the day and sight of Arcalaus, who he knew was already arrived at the Castle, by matters he heard of Gandalin and the Dwarf. In mean while he conferred with the Lady, demanding what the King was she loved so dearly, and for whom she had sustained such injury. Worthy Lord, quoth she, Arcalaus getting intelligence, of the Prince's affection toward me whom I love so loyally, this devilish enchanter being his mortal enemy: thought he could be no better revenged on him, then by depriving me of his presence, imagining the grief hereof would be greater to him then any other. Being thus persuaded, he stole me away, at what time I was with many great personages, who were not able to give me any succour, by reason of the traitors villainous sorceries: for they could not devise what was become of me, because a wonderful dark cloud environed me, which hindered them from following me to this place, since when, I never saw light till now you brought me forth. The disloyal wretch said by the way as he brought me, that he would be revenged on my love and myself by these means: I poor soul enduring the torments, and my Love the grief of my absence, yet ignorant where. Madame, said Amadis, I pray ye name the man you speak of. It is King Arban of Norgalles, answered the Lady, whom it may be you know. I know him right well, replied Amadis, for he is one whom I dearly love, and now do I less pity your sufferings then before: because they have been for one of the best men in the world, who will so well recompense them, as by rendering you incomparable joy, your love and honour shall both be satisfied.  
While thus they communed together, fair day appeared, when Amadis saw a Knight leaning in a window, who thus demanded. Art thou he that didst kill my jailor and my servants? Art thou he? answered Amadis, that so treacherously putteth Knights to death, abusing likewise both Ladies and Gentlewomen? by heaven thou art one of the vilest villains that ever I heard off. As yet thou knowest not, said Arcalaus, the uttermost of my power, but soon shalt thou have experience thereof, to rid thee of such boldness in ask me what I can do, whether it be wrong or right. herewith he went from the window, and not long after came down into the court, being well armed, and mounted on a lusty bay courser. Now you must note that this Arcalaus, was one of the mightiest Knights in the world, yet no Giant, wherefore when Amadis beheld him of such stature, he doubted not of his great force & strength. Arcalaus perceiving he eyed him so much, demanded what moved him so to do? I imagine, answered Amadis, that according to thy large proportion, thou shouldst be a man of exquisite chivalry: but thy perverse and inhuman actions are a foul blemish thereto. Now trust me, said Arcalaus, I think myself highly beholding to Fortune, who hath brought thee hither to make me such a smooth sermon: but all this will not help thee, therefore defend thyself. So charging their Lances, they broke so bravely on their shields, as the shivers flew up into the air, and with such violence met their horses and bodies, that they were both laid along on the ground. Quickly they arose, and with their swords began a bloody combat, wherein desire of victory, and haughty resolution of unconquerable courage, made them continue a long time, till Arcalaus retiring aside, thus spoke to Amadis. Knight, thou art in danger of death, and because I know not who thou art, tell me, that when I have slain thee, I may yet commend thy boldness in entering here. My death, answered Amadis, is in the hand of God whom I reverence, and thine in the power of the Devil, who is weary of helping thee: and bequeatheth thy body to so innumerable mischiefs, as a present perishing of soul and all together. But seeing thou wouldst so gladly know my name, I am commonly called Amadis of Gaul, Knight to the Queen Brisana: let us now then chat no longer but fall to the combat, for on my part I promise no more resting. Arcalaus advancing his shield, came with foaming fury against Amadis. who knew full well how to welcome him: and such eager strokes passed on either side, as their shields were scattered in pieces about them, and likewise very many plates of their armour. Now was it about the third hour, when Arcalaus having sustained great loss of his blood, was forced to feud up and down before his enemy, and seeing the imminent death before his eyes, fled to that part of the Castle where he came out: yet Amadis by close pursuit still continued his fear, whereupon he stepped into a chamber, at the door whereof stood a Lady be holding the combat, and he was no sooner entered the room, but he caught up another sword, turning his face to Amadis, saying. Enter this chamber to make an end of our combat. The open Court, answered Amadis, is more spacious and convenient. I will not come forth, quoth Arcalaus, for thy pleasure. What? said Amadis, thinkest thou so silly to escape? so placing his shield before, he entered the chamber: but as he lifted up his sword to strike, he was deprived of strength and the use of his members, so that he fell to the ground as he had been dead. Yea marry, said Arcalaus, this is the way to make thee die as I desired, sleep then till I wake thee. Now say you Lady? quoth he to her that stood by, am I not (in your opinion) well revenged on him? Indeed, said she, he is now altogether at your commandment. Presently he unarmed him, Amadis not feeling any thing was done to him: afterward Arcalaus put on himself the Prince's Armour, thus speaking to the Lady. Madame, look (on peril of your life) that no one remove him hence, until his soul have forsaken his body: then he intended to journey to the court, where each one seeing him in the Armour of Amadis, might think he had slain him.  
But now the sorrowful Lady so lately delivered from prison, made such moan as would have melted a heart of Adamant, and what Gandalins countenance was, you may easily judge: when Arcalaus saw the Lady lament, he said. Dame, seek some other to deliver you from prison, for I have dispatched your hardy champion. These words made Gandalin in such despair, as he fell down like one senseless, and Arcalaus called the Lady to him in this manner. Come hither mistress, and you shall see him dead that durst so boldly combat with me. When he had showed him to her, he demanded if he were not now quiet enough. The comfortless Lady seeing him in such estate, wanted no tears to express the abundance of her grief, and withal: Ah God, quoth she, how irksome will the report of his death be to many? then Arcalaus calling his wife, said. So soon as this wretch is dead, imprison this Lady where she was before, for I will go to the Court of Ling Lisuart, and there declare how I combated with Amadis, by covenant, that the conqueror should cut off the head of the vanquished, and within fifteen days following, to publish his victory openly in great Britain. By these means none shall quarrel with me about his death, and I shall obtain the greatest glory in the world, having overcome him that conquered every one. Then went he where he left Gandalin and the Dwarf, commanding them to be locked up in a prison: but Gandalin who wished death, thinking his master was dead indeed, would not go with him, desiring some one to kill him: and to enforce Arcalaus do him so much favour, reviled him with names of traitor and villain, having slain the most loyal Knight in the world, Arcalaus made no account of his words, but because he would not go willingly, he dregged him by the ears, and thrust him into the dungeon, saying. If I presently kill thee, thou shouldst endure no more pain, but here shalt thou suffer worse than death. So mounted Arcalaus on the horse of Amadis, and accompanied with three Squires, road toward the Court of King Lisuart.   

CHAP. XX. ¶ How Amadis, was enchanted by Arcalaus, when he would have delivered the Lady Grindaloya and other from prison: and how afterward he escaped the enchantments by the aid of Vrganda.  
GRindaloya the Lady delivered by Amadis from prison, made such excessive lamentations for him, as every one pitied her, she thus speaking to the Wife of Arcalaus, and the rest in the company. Ah fair Ladies, behold ye not the beauty of this brave Gentleman, who in so young years was the only Knight in the world? mishap attend on such, who by enchantment injury men of virtue: D sovereign creator, why dost thou suffer so bad-minded people to live? The Wife of Arcalaus, who though her husband was addicted to shameless cruelty, yet she being of gracious and pitiful disposition, grieved in her very soul to behold his dealings, and continually prayed for his amendment, comforting the woeful Lady so well as she could. As thus they were devising together, they saw two other Ladies enter the chamber, each of them bringing in her hand good store of candles lighted, which they set round about on the cantons of the chamber: finding Amadis thus lying before the Wife of Arcalaus and the rest, they being not able to lift or stir him. Then one of the Ladies so lately there arrived, took (out of a little Casket she carried) a Book, whereon she began to read, and divers times an other voice answered her. As thus she continued her lecture, many other voices were heard, as they imagined them more than an hundred: then came an other Book flying into the chamber, seeming as if the wind carried it, and fell down at her feet that read, she pulling it in four parts, burned it at the four corners of the chamber where the candles stood. This done, she returned to Amadis, and taking him by the right hand, said. Lord Amadis arise, you have slept too long uneasily. Immediately Amadis awaked, and rising up, thus spoke. Alas where am I? I marvel that I am alive. Believe me Sir, answered the Lady, such a one as you are must not die in this sort, rather will the heavens permit, that they who have deserved it shall die by your hand. herewith the two strange Ladies, not saying any more, returned the same way they came, leaving Amadis much amazed at this adventure, and looking about for Arcalaus: but he was advertised by Grindaloya, how he was gone to the Court of King Lisuart, clad in his Armour, and mounted on his horse, to report that he had slain him in combat. In deed I felt, quoth Amadis, when he unarmed me, but on my faith me thought I dreamt: and seeing he is gone with my Armour, I will make his to serve me at this time. Having put on the Armour of Arcalaus, he demanded of Grindaloya, what was become of Gandalin & the Dwarf: she told him they were imprisoned. Evil befall the villain that so hardly used them, said Amadis: and Lady, quoth he to Arcalaus Wife, upon your life look to the safety of this noble woman till I return. Coming forth into the court, it was a pastime to see how Arcalaus servants fled his sight: but Amadis let them run, and went to the dark uncomfortable prisons which were filled with captives.  
Now to tell ye in what distressed manner they were, you must note, the place was a vault of an hundred toyses long, yet no more than one foot and a half in breadth, without air or light, and (which was worst of all) so full of prisoners, as they could scantly stand one by an other. Amadis called Gandalin, who being in a manner dead, hearing his masters voice, begun to tremble: yet thinking it was not he, because he verily imagined him to be dead, entered into divers doubts of himself, whether he dreamt, or was enchanted. All this while Amadis greatly grieved, because Gandalin made no answer, wherefore he called aloud again: Gandalin where art thou? why dost thou make me travel so much? speak I pray thee. When he saw (for all this) Gandalin answered not, he asked the other prisoners, if a Squire so lately brought in there, was dead or alive: but the Dwarf remembering the voice of Amadis, cried out: Alas my Lord, we are both here together alive as yet, albeit we have often enough wished for death. Then Amadis caused candles to be lighted at the Lamp, which hung at the entrance of the dungeon, commanding them all to come forth, to their no little joy and comfort, seeing themselves delivered from such miserable servitude: and when they came into the open court, they fell on their knees before the Prince, thanking God and him for this happy benefit. Amadis beholding their faces so pale, wan, and overspent, seeming rather bloodless ghosts, then living creatures, was moved to exceeding compassion, especially they being an hundred and fifty prisoners in all, & thirty of them were Knights at Arms: as he cast his eye every where among them, he made more account of one than all the rest, who notwithstanding his sickness and debility, seemed of brave and comely constitution, and he perceiving that Amadis noted him so much, stepped to him in this manner. Who shall we say (my Lord) hath done us this grace, by delivering us from so long wretched thraldom? Such as know me, answered the Prince, do call me Amadis of Gaul, Son to King Perion, Knight to the Queen Brisana, and domestical servant to King Lisuart her husband: in search of a Knight I was brought hither by this Dwarf, to whom I made promise in a suit he had. In soothe my Lord, replied the other, I am a Knight likewise, and servant to the same King, who knoweth me full well, as likewise the most in his Court do, with whom I have baene seen in greater honour than now I am: because ever since my departure from the Court, I have lived in the misery from which you redeemed me. How may I call your name? said Amadis. Brandoyuas, answered the Knight. Full well did the Prince remember, that he had heard report of him in the Court, wherefore courteously embracing him, he said, Right glad am I my Stars so favoured me, to deliver you and these other from such a hellish place: and though I never saw you till this present, yet oft have I heard the King and his Barons talk of your chivalry, your long absence being no little grief to them. The rest of the prisoners confessed their bounden duty to him, desiring him to appoint them what they should do: he willing them to shape their course whether they thought best. My Lord, quoth they, albeit we know not what several Countries may harbour us, yet will we still continue your devoted servants, to attend on you when and wheresoev need shall require. So each one kissing his hand, they took their leave, limiting their journeys as they thought good, not any of them tarrying with Amadis, but Brandoyvas.  
Now go they to the wife of Arcalaus, Amadis thus speaking to her. Lady, for your sake and these other Gentlewomen, I forbear from setting this castle on fire, albeit the evil behaviour of your husband is sufficient warrant therefore: but in regard of the courtesy Knights own to Ladies, I am content to remit all at this time. Alas my Lord, quoth she, heaven beareth record of the grief my soul hath endured, through the behaviour of Arcalaus my husband: yet could I do nothing but show obedience, as beseemed a wife to her wedded Lord, with intercession for his change, notwithstanding, I remain at your disposition. What I will do, answered Amadis, I have already told ye, it now remaineth, that at my request you give this Lady Grindaloya honourable attirements, because her birth and behaviour deserveth no less: in like manner, I would have an Armour for this Knight, to requite his own which was taken from him, and a horse as beseemeth one of his profession. If you mislike of my demand, do more or less as you think good, but for mine own part, I will have hence the Armour of Arcalaus in lieu of mine, and his horse, by reason mine own was better: yet must I tell ye withal, that he hath taken a sword from me more worth than all the rest. Sir, answered the Lady, your request is so reasonable, that beyond the power you alone have here, I stand bound in duty to fulfil your commandment. Then sent she for the self-same Armour belonged to Brandoyvas, and caused a horse to be delivered him: as for the Lady, she brought her into her chamber, where she clothed her in most sumptuous accoutrements, and returning to Amadis, desired him to eat somewhat before he departed, whereto he willingly condescended. Now was the best viands brought forth so short warning might afford, but Grindaloya was in such haste to be gone, as she was loath to be troubled with any: whereat Amadis and Brandoyvas merrily smiled, especially at the Dwarff, who looked so pale and wan with fear, that it was impossible for him to offer one word, which made Amadis, thus to jest with him. Tell me Dwarf, wilt thou that we tarry here till Arcalaus come, and I to give thee the suit thou desirest? Insooth my Lord, quoth the Dwarf, so dear hath the request cost me I made to you, as (while I live) neither of you or any other will I crave the like: for God's sake then let us be gone ere the devil come again, for I cannot stand on the leg he hung me by, beside, my nose is so full of sulphurous & stinking smells, as never shall I give over sneezing till I die. The dwarfs words made them all laugh heartily, and after they had repasted, Amadis bidding Arcalaus wife farewell, mounted on horsseback with his company, the Lady thus speaking at his departure. I shall pray Sir Knight, that God may send peace between my husband and you. Believe me Lady, quoth he, though I never care for it with him, yet shall it remain twixt you and me, because you deserve it. So fortuned it afterward these words took effect, and highly profited the good Lady, as in some part of this history you shall hear recited.  
Now are they departed from the Castle of Arcalaus, riding till the night overtook them, lodging at a Lady's place five leagues thence, where they were entertained with very gracious welcome: and on the morrow, after they had thanked their friendly host, as they road together, Amadis thus communed with Brandoyvas. Courteous Sir, I travail in search of a Knight, as heretofore I told ye, and imagining it will be little pleasure to you to follow me, it were not amiss then if we parted. In sooth Sir, answered Brandoyvas, I gladly would go to King Lisuarts Court, notwithstanding, if you think it good I will keep ye company. Little need shall I have thereof, answered Amadis, I thank ye, because I must be constrained to wander alone, so soon as I have brought this Lady into such safety as she thinks meet. My Lord, quoth she, I will accompany this Gentleman if you please, seeing he travaileth to the Court of King Lisuart: and there I hope to find him for whom I was prisoner, who I am assured will be glad of my deliverance. Now trust me, answered Amadis, very well said, go then together and God be your guide. Thus are they separated, now remaining none with Amadis but Ganda●●● and the Dwarf, of whom the Prince likewise demanded what he meant to do. Marry be your trusty servant, said the Dwarf, if you like so well as I. I am well pleased, replied Amadis, and thou shalt do what thou wilt thyself. In soothe my Lord, quoth the Dwarf, seeing you released me, I would gladly remain in your service, for I know not where I may be half so well: the man and the master being both agreed: they took their way as fortune liked to conduct them.  
Not far had they travailed, but they met one of the Ladies, that rescued him from enchantment at Arcalaus castle, she weeping and mourning very grievously: which moving Amadis to pity her complaints, made him demand the cause thereof. A Knight who rideth not far before, quoth she, hath taken from me a little Casket, wherein is matter of great consequence, yet no way able to pleasure him: for such things are therein, as within these three days one in my company and myself, restored from death the best Knight in the world, and she likewise of whom I tell ye, is violently carried away by an other Knight, who is ridden before intending to force her. Here you must observe, that the damosel now talking with Amadis, knew him not, by reason his helmet beaver covered his face: but when he heard how her Casket was taken from her, he never left galloping till he overtook him, to whom he thus spoke. Knight, you deal not courteously, giving this Lady cause thus to complain of you, and me thinks you should do a great deal better, to deliver the Casket again you took from her: but when the Knight heard him, he fell in a great laughter. Why do ye thus laugh Sir? said Amadis. I laugh at you, answered the Knight, whom I think scant wise in giving council to him that demands it not, the less hope may you have of speeding in your suit. It may be, quoth Amadis, you care not for my words, yet it were good to deliver the thing is none of yours. Belike you threaten me then? said the Knight. Not you Sir, answered Amadis, but your overmuch boldness, in using force where it ought not to be. Is it true? quoth the Knight: with these words he set the Casket aside in a tree, and returning to Amadis, said. If your bravery be such in deeds as it seemeth in words, come teach me know it and receive the law. So giving the spurs to their horses, they encountered together in such sort, as the Knight being dismounted, his horse fell so heavily on him, that he was not able to rise again: in mean while Amadis fetched the coffer, and delivering it to the damosel, said. Take your own fair Lady, & tarry here till I bring your companion. Presently he posted after the other Knight, overtaking him at a thicket of trees, where he had tied both his horse and the Ladies, trailing her by the hair of the head into the wood, there to commit his villainous desire, but Amadis cried to him aloud in this manner. Of an evil death mayst thou die traitor, that wrongest a Lady in this sort without offending thee. As the Knight strougled with her to get her into the wood, he looked up and saw Amadis, whereupon he left her, making speed to his weapons and mounted on horseback, then approaching nearer the Prince, he said. By my hand Knight, in hapless time for thee didst thou hinder me of my will. Such a will, answered Amadis, as distaineth honour, both men and beasts despise. If I take not revenge for it, quoth the Knight, then let me never wear Armour again. The world therein shall sustain a great loss, replied Amadis, of one addicted to such villainy, that seeks to force Ladies, who ought in all liberty and honour to be defended, and so they be by all loyal Knights. With a brave course they met together, when though the Knight broke his Lance, yet was he hurled against the ground so violently, as the weight of his Armour and strength of his fall, made him lie trembling in a trance. Which Amadis perceiving, to rid him out of his pain altogether, he trampled on his belly with his horse feet, saying: Thus shalt thou lose thy desire of forcing Ladies. And as for you fair soul, I hope hereafter you are rid from any danger of him. The more am I to thank you my Lord, quoth she, would God my companion who hath lost her Casket, were as well delivered as I am. She was the first, I met withal, answered Amadis, wherefore first of all I succoured her so well, as she hath recovered what was taken from her, and behold where my Squire conducteth her hitherward.  
Now because the heat was somewhat violent, Amadis put off his helmet to take the air, when the damosel immediately knew him: for it was she that at his return from Gaul▪ conducted him to Vrganda the unknown, when by chivalry he delivered her friend at the Castle of Pradoid, which made her remember him, & so did Amadis her, when alighting they embraced each other, the like courtesy he showed to the other damosel. Alas quoth they, had we but dreamed on such a defender, no villain could have wronged us, half so much. On my faith, said Amadis, the help you gave me within these three days, may not be compared with this matter of no validity: for I was in greater exextremity than you, but how could you possibly understand thereof? My Lord, (quoth she that took him by the hand when he was enchanted) mine Aunt Vrganda sent me to the Castle of Arcalaus, by whose means we came thither, and you were recovered. Heaven shield from evil that good Lady, answered Amadis, who hath so many ways bound me her obedient servant: and you fair Damoselles the messengers of this favour, have you any thing else wherein to command me? No my Lord, said they, take you the way you left, and we will return from whence we came. Farewell sweet Virgins, replied Amadis, remember my humble duty to the health of your Mistress, telling her, she knows right well I am her Knight. In this mander road the Damoselles one way, and Amadis another: wherefore we must now tell what happened to Arcalaus, since his departure from the Castle of Valderin.   

CHAP. XXI. ¶ How Arcalaus brought news to the Court of King Lisuart, that Amadis was dead, which caused his friends to make manifold lamentations and regrets, especially the Princess Oriana.  
SUch speed made Arcalaus after his departure from Valderin, where he left Amadis enchanted, he being (as I have said) clad in his armour, and mounted on his horse: that the tenth day following, he arrived near the Court of King Lisuart, who was riding abroad in the fields to take the air, accompanied with his Lords along the Forest side. They seeing Arcalaus come a far of, having on the Armour of Amadis, imagining it was he indeed, divers road before to welcome him: but when they came more near, they found themselves deceived, by reason Arcalaus had his head and hands unarmed, wherefore without saluting the Gentlemen, he stepped to the King with these words: Sir, I come to accquite a promise wherein I stand bound, namely to let you understand, how I have slain a Knight in battle, that some time bore these Arms. And albeit I must be content to declare mine own praise, which were more honourable for me, being reported by an other in mine absence: yet am I constrained to do no less, seeing the covenant was such between me and him whom I have slain: viz. that the conqueror should despoil the vanquished of his head, and present it before you as this day. Full loath was I to be so cruel, because he told me he was your Queen's Knight, commonly called Amadis of Gaul, and so he named himself whom I vanquished. As for me Sir, I told him in truth that I was Arcalaus, whom Fortune hath graced with such singular favour: for I have slain the man, sometime owner of this Armour and horse, which as a testimony of my victory I brought with me. Ah God, said the King, is then the most virtuous and accomplished Knight of the world dead? you lowering heavens, why began ye so brave a course in him, and now on such a sudden to cut it off? These sorrowful news provoked sighs and tears, both in the King and his royal company, which Arcalaus perceiving, not speaking any thing else, returned the same way he came, feigning himself likewise very sad and grieved: but you must think he went not without great store of curses, every one instantly desiring God, to send him an evil and speedy death, which with their Swords they could gladly have bestowed on him themselves, but that they heard how Amadis was slain by an accorded battle.  
The King being overcome with pensiveness and sorrow, returned to the Town, where these news were so opened to every one, that at length the Queen and her Ladies heard thereof, which presently converted their former pleasures into mourning. At this time was the Princess Oriana in her chamber with the damosel of Denmark, where hearing the sudden clamour and noise, she commanded her to go understand the cause thereof. Alas good Lady, too soon was it brought to her, for no sooner was she acquainted with the death of Amadis, but her immoderate passions expressed the anguish of her heart: and more to afflict this gentle Princess, the other Ladies came weeping into her chamber, saying. Ah Madame, what tongue can deliver this wonderful mishap? yet durst she not (good Lady) be too forward in inquiring the manner thereof, lest the cinders of her affection might be discovered: and as if she had beheld Amadis dead before her, she said. Alas he is dead, it can not be otherwise. It is true Madame, answered the damosel, but what remedy? you must not likewise die for company. These words made Oriana fall into a swoon, which the damosel of Denmark beholding, thought she had too indiscreetly brought her these bad tidings, whereupon she called the Princess Mabila, saying: Help Madame, my Mistress dieth. She being come, saw that she neither moved or breathed, doubted lest life had taken leave indeed, wherefore she commanded the damosel to shut the door, to the end her love all this while so well concealed, might not break forth into open suspicion. Then unlacing her garments to give her more liberty, as also bathing her temples and pulses with Uiniger and cold water, she recovered again, when delivering a faint sigh, with a feeble voice she thus spoke. Ah sweet friends, hinder me not in the way of death, if you desire my rest, and would have God find him another world, who knew not how to live one day without me. Ah flower and mirror of chivalry, thy death is insupportable not to me alone, but to the whole world, who is replete with grief for thee, because they have lost him who in bounty, prudence, hardiness, and all other virtues, did honour them above the compass of all desire. And were yet any feeling in thee, I am certain thou wouldst not sorrow for thy lost life, but for my love, enduring by thy miss marvelous afflictions: for thou hast left such honour in the world behind thee, conquering so incomparable reputation in this short time of thy life, that (reckoning thy merits) thou diedst possessed with many years. Thus livest thou in place immortal, I remaining here alone after thee, can give but wounding and unthankful speeches. Ah cruel death, sufficed it not that mighty love murdered him with his feathered steel, but thou must kill him outright with thy cureless stroke? well, in respect it is so, offend not thyself my love, for thou shalt soon see reason proceed from her that did thee wrong, who being the cause, will bear thee company in death. And I may justly challenge him of wrong, seeing equal love had united our wills, to separate our persons in this sort: where having afforded our ending together, we likewise might have enjoyed one sepulchre. After these words she swooned again in mabila's arms, and in such manner altered her countenance, as they reputed her verily dead, her fair and golden locks being disheveled, her arms and legs deprived of vital motion, even as when the soul hath taken his flight, from the body. Mabila despairing of any life left in her, was so surprised with grief, that she was constrained to leave the damosel alone with the Princess, and walking somewhat aside by herself thus lamented. Incomprehensible wisdom, let me not live to endure these travails, seeing thou hast taken these two from me whom I loved as my life. But when the damosel of Denmark saw herself thus alone between two extremes, she was marvelously abashed: yet as one wise and well governed, she spoke in this manner to the Princess Mabila. Why Madame? when were you wont to abuse your honourable virtues? is it now time to forget yourself? will you thus consent to the death of my Lady? you rather ought to aid and comfort her, than thus to forsake her, and procure her further danger if she revive again. Come I pray ye secure her, for now is the time of greatest need, and let these lamentations be referred till an other time. Mabila perceived the damosel said true, wherefore she came to Oriana, and feeling by her warmness some hope of life to be expected, they lifted her upon the bed, when soon after her spirits returned to their office: and to qualify this agony, they could devise no better means, then to busy her ears with some or other speeches. Why Madame? quoth one, will ye leave us? at least yet speak to us. Madame, said the other, your Amadis is yet alive and well. At the name of Amadis, she opened her eyes, turning her head here and there as if she looked for him: which good humour Mabila desirous to continue, proceeded thus. Amadis cometh Madame, and shortly you shall see him. Oriana giving a great sigh, started up, saying. Alas sweet friend, where is he? We understand, quoth she, that he is in very good health, and how the Knight who brought these bad tidings, is wont to vaunt of himself without cause, feeding himself with false praise of deceiving Knights. Why? said Oriana, have I not heard that he brought his horse and Armour? A matter of nothing, answered Mabila, they may as well be borrowed or stolen, or he (happily) sent with that false alarm, to try our constancy: then finding us thus weakly disposed, he should have had the thing he desired. I would not have you think so simply Madame, that Amadis could be overcome by one & no better a Knight than he, nor were it reason to credit a commender of himself, bringing his own glory for testimony and no other approbation: I am assured that Amadis will come ere long, and if he find you not only dead in a manner, but thus given over to grief: it will cost his life, so shall you deliver unhappy proof, what wicked feigning by malice can do, and thus you both shall die one for another. When Oriana remembered, how by this mean she might be the death of her friend, if by good hap he yet enjoyed life, and imagined likewise that Mabila spoke the truth: she took courage, casting her eye on the window, where many times Amadis and she had amorously conferred, when first he arrived at her Father's Court, and intercepting a number of forced sighs, thus spoke. Ah window the witness of my abandoned pleasures, how piercing is the doubt of him whom thou causest me remember, and by whose gracious words both thou and I were made happy? of this I am certain, that never canst thou endure so long as two so loyal lovers might (by thee) enjoy such delight as he and I have done: which failing me now, giveth me strange and insupportable torments to be my companions, and henceforth shall my sad spirit remain in bitter sadness, until the coming of him or my death. Mabila perceiving the chiefest danger was past, laboured to confirm her opinion more strongly than she had done, in this manner. Why Madame? think you if I held these babbling news for truth, I could have the power to comfort you in this sort? the love I bear to my Cousin is not so little, but rather I should incite all the world to weep, then want consolation for you who stand in such need thereof. But I see so slender appearance of belief, as I will not before time require repute you infortunate, because discomforting ourselves without assurance: the evil hereby may be amended, and the good made much more worse especially it will be the mean of discovering, what hath so long time been shadowed in secret. Alas, quoth Oriana, if he be dead, I care not though our love were openly known, for all our mishaps in respect of it are nothing.  
Thus debating and devising together, the two Ladies all that day kept their chamber, not suffering any other to come in: for when the damosel of Denmark (who passed often in and out) was demanded for Oriana, she answered that she accompanied Mabila, whom she would not suffer to part from her, by reason of her grief for her Cousin Amadis. Thus was the Princess' secret sadness covered, all night she being unable to take any rest, such were her assaults between doubt and despair, not forgetting any thing that passed between her and Amadis since their younger years. But on the morrow about dinner time, Brandoyvas entered the Palace, leading Grindaloya in his hand, which gave great joy to such as knew them, for of long time they could not imagine what was become of them: they falling on their knees before the King, were quickly called to remembrance, his Majesty thus speaking. Sir Brandoyvas? how chance you have tarried so long from us? Alas my Lord, quoth he, imprisonment hath been the cause, whereout (had not the good Knight Amadis of Gaul, given liberty to me, this Lady & many more, by such deeds of arms as are unspeakable) we could never have been delivered. Yet was he once in danger of tarrying there himself, by the villainous conjurations and sorceries of Arcalaus: but he was succoured by two Damsels, who delivered him from all the exorcisms. When the King heard him name Amadis, whom he verily thought to be dead: What my friend? quoth he, by the faith thou owest unto God and me, is Amadis living? Yea my good Lord, answered Brandoyvas, it is not ten days since I left him in good disposition: but may it like you to tell me, why you demand such a question? Because, said the King, Arcalaus yesterday told us he had slain him: herewith he declared his speeches, and the manner how. What a traitorous villain is that? replied Brandoyuas, but worse is befallen him then he wéeneth as yet: hereto he added what passed between Amadis and Arcalaus, as already you have heard, whereby each one forsook the sorrow of the former false news, the King presently commanding, that Grindaloya should be conducted to the Queen, that she might understand these happy tidings.  
Into the queens chamber is she brought, and the Damsel of Denmark hearing her report, ran with all speed to the Princess Oriana, who hearing by her the truth of all, the passage of her speech was stopped for a long time, seeming as one confounded with enchantment, thinking in these news she gave her the bag, or that she dreamt them, but when she recovered the use of her tongue, she thus answered the damosel. Alas my friend, did I rave? or toldest thou me that Grindaloya testified to the Queen, how Amadis is not dead? In good faith, quoth the damosel, I came but even now from her highness chamber, where Grindaloya declared how Arcalaus had deceived them. Happy be this hour, said Oriana, but I pray thee go tell my mother, that Mabila entreats her to send the Lady to comfort her: which she did, returning right soon with Grindaloya to Oriana. I leave you to imagine whether she were well entertained or no, with all the modest courtesies so glad tidings deserved, likewise whether Oriana and Mabila gave her audience, when she recounted Amadis deeds of arms at Valderin, the misery of her and many other, the danger whereinto he fell afterward by the enchantments of Arcalaus, from which he was delivered by two strange Damosels. The discourse hereof so pleased and contented them, that I think Grindaloya had an endless task in the reporting, for Oriana must hear every thing often redoubled. But repeating the dangers of Amadis, and the misery from which he delivered the poor captives, caused tears so thick as winter's hail to trill down her cheeks. Thus tarried Grindaloya all day with the two Princesses, and had not so soon departed, but that she was advertised, how that King Arban of Norgalles, (who loved her dearly) expected her return in the Queen's chamber. Good reason had she to take leave of Oriana, and seek him from whom she suffered such sorrow: but when these loyal lovers met together, each one was delighted so substantially, as Grindaloya thought her griefs well recompensed. Now because the Queen understood, how she was daughter to King Ardroyd of Seralys, and all her miseries had been for the love of King Arban: with instant entreaty she procured her stay in the Court, doing her all the honour & favour could be devised. Grindaloya was not curious in granting the Queen's request, because King Arban was partaker in the same suit: by this occasion the Queen was advertised, that she had a marvelous fair Sister named Aldena, who was nourished in the Duke of bristoya's Castle, which made her presently dispatch a Gentleman thither, with request that the Duchess would send her to the Court. This Aldena was the friend to Galaor, she for him suffered such injury by the Dwarf, as you have heard before discoursed. We have a long time continued with Amadis, now let us return again to Galaor, leaning King Lisuart in hope to see him soon in his Court, whom Arcalaus said he had slain in combat.   

CHAP. XXII. ¶ How Galaor came very sore wounded to a Monastery, where he sojourned five days attending his health, and at his departure thence, what happened to him shall be declared in this Chapter.  
Five days together abode Galaor at the Monastery, whether he was conducted by the damosel he delivered from prison, attending there the recovery of his wounds: but when he found himself able to wear his Armour, he took leave of the Sisters, and road on his journey, even which way fortune pleased to guide, for he had mind to no part more than another. About midday he arrived in a valley, in the midst whereof stood a fair fountain, where he found a Knight armed having no horse: Galaor marveling thereat, demanded if he came thither on foot, the Knight returning this answer. Believe me no, but riding through this Forest to a Castle of mine, I met with certain thieves that slew my horse: thus am I brought into the state you behold me, by reason my servants hear not of my misfortune. Why? You shall have my Squires monture, answered Galaor. I thank you Sir, quoth the Knight, yet before we part hence, you shall know the great virtue of this fountain, for there is no poison in the world so strong, that hath any force against this water, wherefore by reason of so sovereign a benefit, oftentimes envenomed beasts do drink hereof, and are presently healed: beside, divers of this country use to come hither, and find redress for all their infirmities. In soothe you tell me marvels, replied Galaor, and seeing I am now so near it, I will alight to drink thereof as other have done. Good reason you should, answered the Knight, because you are ignorant of coming this way again. Galaor leapt from his horse, bidding his Squire alight to drink as he did: but while they were drinking, the Knight clasped on his own head galaor's helmet, and taking his Lance mounted on his horse, when leaving the Prince drinking he road away, saying. Farewell Knight, I must be gone, tarry thou here to beguile an other as I have done thee. Galaor lifting his head from the water, and seeing the Knight make such haste away, thus called to him. Ah villain, never did thief such a treacherous prank as thou hast done: for thou hast not alone deceived me, but committed an act of great disloyalty, which thou shalt well know, if ever I meet with thee. Yea marry, answered the Knight, rest yourself there, till you recover some other mean to combat with me.  
Gone is the Knight so fast as he could gallop, leaving Galaor chase like a mad man, but seeing there was no remedy, he mounted on his Squire's horse and pursued him, till at length he came to a double way: when not knowing which of them to take, because he had lost the sight of him, he stood still in great pensiveness, till at length he saw a damosel come riding apace toward him, of whom he demanded, if she met not a Knight mounted on a bay Courser, bearing in a white Shield a vermilion flower. What would you with him? replied the damosel. I would, quoth he, recover again my horse and Arms, for they be mine, and by false villainies he hath carried them from me. When happened this? said the damosel: wherewith Galaor told her all the discourse. Well, quoth the Damsel, what can you do to him being thus unarmed? for I think he took them not away to restore them again. I care for nothing else, said Galaor, but to find him once more. Trust me, answered the damosel, if you will grant me one boon, soon shall I bring ye together again. Galaor being very desirous hereof, agreed to any thing she would demand. Fellow me then, quoth she, so turning her horse, road the same way she came, keeping company awhile together: but the damosel being better mounted than he, left him behind with his Squire, and rid before so fast, that they had lost the sight of her, travailing the space of three miles without any news of her, but at last on a great plain they saw her return again. Here you must note, that the cause of her riding thus before, was to advertise the other Knight (being her dear friend) of their coming, and he had expressly sent her to fetch Galaor, to deceive him of the rest of his Armour: which he imagined easily to do without danger, seeing he had gotten the chiefest thing of his defence, and afterward he intended to kill him, or put him to some notorious shame. For this cause he tarried in a Pavilion, erected by him on the plain, and no sooner came she to Galaor, but thus she spoke. Gentleman, to the end I might not fail in my promise, I forsook your company awhile, only to see if the man you look for, were in the place where I left him or no: there have I found him little thinking on your coming, and in yonder Pavilion may you speak with him at pleasure. As thus they devised together, they came to the Tent, wherefore Galaor alighted to enter, but the Knight meeting him at the door, said. Sir Knight, what moveth thee to come in here without licence? trust me it is but little for thy profit, because thou must here leave the rest of thine Armour, or die presently. Thou mayst be therein deceived, answered Galaor, and the words of such a wretch as thou art can not fear me. This reply very angrily incensed the Knight, lifting up his Sword to smite the Prince on the head, but Galaor runningly escaped the blow, giving his enemy such a stroke on the top of his helmet, as made him set one knee to the ground: then quickly laying hold on him, got the helmet beside his head, spurning him to strongly with his feet, that therewith he fell on his face to the earth. When the Knight beheld himself in such danger, he called with a loud voice to the damosel for succour, whereupon she stepped to Galaor, saying: that he should hold his hand, for this was the boon he promised to give her. But he being in extreme choler, gave no ear to her speeches, bringing the Knight into such estate, as he left no vital motion in him: whereat the damosel being ready to despair, breathed forth many grievous lamentations, saying. Alas wretch that I am, too long have I trifled time: for in seeking to beguile an other, myself am worthily requited with deceit. And thou traitor, quoth she to Galaor, who hast thus cruelly put him to death, heaven send thee a more worse and hapless end, for by thee have I lost my only felicity in this world: for which (be well assured) it shall cost thee thy life, because thou hast broken promise with me, and in such a place will I demand revenge on thee, as nothing but thy death shall expiate my anger, wert thou a Knight of greater hardiness than thou art: if then thou make refusal there, I shall have more than just occasion to publish in all places, the pusillanimity of thy faint hearted courage. Fair damosel, answered Galaor, if I had thought his death would have been so grievous to you, I could have spared part of my displeasure, though justly he deserved no less, but you spoke when it was too late. The worse for thee, replied the damosel, because thy death shall recompense his. Galaor seeing she continued her threatening speeches, without any other answer left her, lacing on his helmet, mounting on the horse the dead Knight took from him: and having ridden a pretty while, he looked back to see if the damosel followed him, when perceiving her hard at his horse heels, demanded of her whether she travailed. With thee, answered the damosel, and never will I leave thee, till I have found opportunity to request the boon thou didst promise me, which shall be the loss of thy head by some evil death. Me thinks it were better, said Galaor, for you to take some other satisfaction of me, and happily might be more pleasing to you. Not any thing else, quoth she, thy soul shall accompany his whom thou hast slain, else never shalt thou accomplish what thou hast promised me. Well, well, answered Galaor, I must stand to the hazard of that as I may: thus quarreling, they road on three days together, and entered the Forest of Angaduze, an adventure there happening to them, whereof the Author hereafter maketh mention.  
But now he returneth again to Amadis, who taking his leave of Urganda's damsels, as you have heard before recited: road on till about noon time, when issuing forth of a Forest, he saw on a plain a very fair Castle, wherout came a goodly Chariot, to bravely equipped as ever be beheld any, it being drawn by two brave red steeds, which were covered with embroidered crimson satin, as it made a very dainty and seemly show. The Chariot was guarded by eight armed Knights, yet Amadis being desirous to see who was in it, drew somewhat near to lift up the rich covering, but one of the Knights came to him with these rough words: Keep back Sir Knight, and be not so bold to come thus near. What I do, answered Amadis, is for no harm. Whatsoever it be, replied the other, trouble yourself no further, in respect you are not worthy to see what is here covered: for if you enterprise the like again, it will vallewe your life, because thou must deal with all in this troop, and some such one is among us, as is able alone to get the mastery of thee, more easily than may we altogether use thee as we list. I know not, said Amadis, the knights valour you speak of, but hap good or bad, I will see what is in the Chariot. here with he took his Arms, which the two Knights seeing that road foremost, they ran both against him, the one breaking his Lance, and the other missing: but Amadis sped otherwise, for the first very easily he cast from his saddle, and the other he threw both horse and man to the ground. Then Amadis went toward the Chariot, yet was he stayed by two other Knights, one of them being likewise dismounted, and with his sword he gave the other such a welcome on the pate as he was glad to keep himself from falling, by catching fast hold about his horse neck, when the other four saw their companions so used by one Knight, they marveled not a little, and being willing to revenge their injury, altogether fiercely charged Amadis. With this last assault he found himself sore cumbered, for one of them tainted him in the shield, and another in his armour, as he escaped hardly from being overthrown: notwithstanding he held out valiantly, delivering such strokes to the first he met, as he fell beside his horse in a swoon. The three that remained turned their faces, seeking which way they they might soon hurt him: but he snatched a Lance from one of them, which yet remained whole, and met one with such a full career, that piercing quite through his throat, he fell to the ground and gave up the ghost. After his death he came to an other of them, and with his sword smote the helmet from his head: when seeing he was a very ancient Knight, having his head and beard so white as snow, moved with pity, he friendly thus spoke. Father, henceforth it were good you left the use of arms to younger than yourself, seeing you have lived so long without gaining honour or commendation, marry your age doth now excuse ye. In good faith, answered the Knight, your speeches are very contrary, because if it be seemly for young men to seek renown and fame by arms: it is more necessary that an ancient man should do his endeavour, to maintain those affairs so long as he can. Believe me Father, said Amadis, your reason is good. While thus they talked together, Amadis saw him who was first unhorsed make great haste toward the Castle, and so did the other which were wounded: wherefore he approached to the Chariot, and lifting up the covering, beheld there a tomb of marble, having a crowned King figured thereon, clothed in his royal ornaments, yet was his crown and part of his head somewhat severed aloof from the rest. Hard by sat a very ancient Lady, and near her a young damosel of most excellent beauty, whom very graciously he saluted, speaking to the ancient Lady in this manner. I pray ye tell me Madame, what figure is this which you accompany so carefully? What Sir Knight? quoth she, (not knowing her gardants were discomfited) who gave you permission to see our secrets? None other, said Amadis, than my desire thus to do. In good faith, quoth the Lady, this is in you a great part of presumption, and I marvel that my Knights would suffer it: then putting her head forth of the Chariot, she saw some of them slain, others flying to the castle for their safety, and some ran after their horses that were escaped, where-at she was so amazed, as she thus cried out: Ah Knight, cursed be the hour of thy birth, who hast done me this cruel outrage. Madame, answered Amadis, your people assailed me: but now may it please ye to satisfy my demand? Never shalt thou, quoth she, be resolved therein by me, having offered me such monstrous abuse: so saying, she caused the horses to high away with the Chariot. Amadis beholding her so aggrieved, would trouble her no more but road on his journey: then were the dead bodies put into the Chariot, and presently conveyed into the Castle.  
Now had the Dwarf heard all that passed between Amadis and the Lady, but he knew not what was within the Chariot, wherefore he desired to know of his master. I cannot tell thee, quoth he, for she would make no answer thereof to me. In sooth, said the Dwarf, it is strange that women have learned to hold their peace. As thus they road beguiling the time, on a sudden they espied the old Knight now unarmed, gallop apace after them, crying so loud as he could to Amadis, that he should stay, which he did, when he delivered him this message. My Lord, I come to you by commandment of the Lady whom you saw in the Chariot, and she being willing to make amends for the injury she did ye, desires you to take a lodging this night in her Castle. Ah Father, replied Amadis, I found her in such grief for the debate between me and your companions, that I think my presence will rather be hurtful then pleasing to her. Assure yourself, said the Knight, your return will be very acceptable to her. Amadis thinking a Knight of such years would have told no leasing, was content to go with him, seeing with what affection he coullered his speeches: and by the way he demanded of him, why the pictures head was made in such sort, but he would tell him nothing, saying, the Lady would thoroughly resolve him in all. Being come to the Castle, he saw the Lady and the damosel awaiting his coming on the bridge, who bade him very heartily welcome. Ladies, quoth he, I would be glad to do you good, but loath to offend ye. When he was entered, he saw a great many armed men, who flocking about him, cried. Yield Knight, else thou art but dead. Nor shall you, said he, with my will, keep me your prisoner. So he laced his helmet, but he had no leisure as yet to take his Shield, so sharply was he assailed by his enemies: yet did he worthily defend himself, sending them to the earth he met withal, at length by the multitude of his assailants, he was driven into a corner of the court, which he recovering, and keeping them therein all before him, endamaged them much better than he did before. But while he was thus combating, he saw the Dwarf and Gandalin carried into prison, whereat he conceived such displeasure, as being exempt from fear of death, he laid such load on his enemies, that no one durst come near him: albeit they were so many, as often times he was in danger to fall on his knees, yet looking for no mercy at such men's hands, would dearly buy his death among them, causing divers of them to fall dead at his feet. And the divine bounty regarding him in pity, delivered him from this peril by the young beautiful damosel, who marking his brave behaviour in chivalry, intended to save him, calling one of her women to whom she said. The gallant mind of this Knight moveth me to compassion, so that I had rather all mine should die, than he, therefore follow me. Why Madame? answered the Gentlewoman, what mean ye to do? Let lose my Lions, answered the Lady, that they may be scattered, who offer wrong to the best Knight in the world: and thou (being my vassal) I command thee presently to go let them loose. Which she durst not deny, but immediately sent them forth of the Cave: then the Lady (to make them retire that combated with Amadis) cried to them: look to yourselves my friends, for the Lions are gotten lose by some mischance. The men being all afraid, fled up and down to shun the fury of the beasts, but the Lions made such speed after them, as divers they overtook and rend in pieces. When Amadis saw himself thus rid of his enemies, seeing the wicket of the Castle was yet open, he went out and held the door fast to him, while the Lions devoured the other in the Court.  
In this manner Amadis escaped his bloody foes, yet was he so over-travailed, as he could hardly sustain himself: wherefore he sat down on a stone, holding his sword still ready drawn, a great part whereof was broken, and the Lions being yet so hungry, as they ran about the Court to seek way into the fields: nor was there any man in the Castle so hardy, that durst come down to shut them up again, no, not the damosel who had the government of them, for they were so chafed, as no obedience was looked for in them, nor the wisest of them knew how to remedy it: except the old Lady should entreat the strange Knight to let them forth, imagining because she was a woman, he would grant her request sooner than to the rest. But she considering her false dealing toward him, durst not adventure to move the suit: yet when she beheld it was her last refuge, she put her head forth of the window, thus speaking to Amadis. Although (sir Knight) we have entreated ye very hardly, yet let your courtesy excuse what is past: and to save our lives, open the gate that the Lions may come forth, to the end our present fear may be quallyfyed, and they range the fields as is their desire. This favourable kindness let us obtain at your hands, whereby we shall yield amends for the wrong we have done ye: and on my faith I swear to you, ●ur intent was no otherwise then to gain you our prisoner, until you consented to be our Knight. Madame, answered Amadis, you should have laboured your determination by a more honest way: for without constraint I would willingly have yielded myself, as I have to divers other Ladies who know full well my service. Will ye then Sir, quoth she, open the gate? No, replied Amadis: wherewith she went from the window, and the young Lady trembling showed herself, thus calling to Amadis. Ah gentle Sir, such are within here, who could not suffer the injury done to you, the better they deserve to find some favour. With such seemly modesty uttered the Lady these words, as Amadis asked her, if she would have the gate opened? Yea marry Sir, quoth she, I humbly desire ye. Presently he arose to obey her request, but she willed him to stay awhile, till the old Lady warranted him assurance from the rest of her servants: nor could he but commend her wit and discretion, who getting him security from all in the Castle, made promise likewise, that Gandalin and the Dwarf should be delivered from imprisonment. Then came the ancient Knight, of whom we spoke before, and calling to Amadis, he said, Because me thinks (Sir) your shield is greatly impaired, and your sword in like manner broken, take this shield and this Mace, wherewith you may defend the Lions when they come forth: so throwing the Mace and the shield down, Amadis willingly took them up, returning this answer. Let me never be ingrateful to them that secure me in need. By heaven, said the Knight, seeing you use loyalty to worse than beasts, no doubt is to be made of your mercy to reasonable creatures. Amadis opening the wicket, the Lions furiously ran forth, and he entered the Castle, which they within perceiving, came with the Ladies to entertain him, desiring pardon for their offences committed, and presenting him Gandalin with the Dwarf. By my soul, said Amadis, never was I so r●isused upon no occasion, but seeing all enmity is over-blowen, you must give me a horse, for your servants (I thank them) have slain mine. Sir Knight, answered the old Lady, it is now somewhat late, if you please to unarm yourself, and rest here this might, to morrow you shall have a horse, or what else you need. In hope you mean no worse than you say, quoth Amadis, I will not refuse your offer, because the time doth request no less.  
Forth with was he unarmed in a sumptuous chamber, and a costly mantle brought to wrap about him, then returning to the Ladies who attended his coming, they were stricken in admiration of his excellent beauty, but much more at his valour being so young: and casting his eye on her, at whose entreatance he let forth the Lions, he reputed her one of the fairest that ever was seen, but he spoke nothing to her as yet, by reason he proceeded in this manner with the old Lady. I pray ye Madame let me understand, why the picture which I saw in the Chariot, hath his head so separated. Sir Knight, quoth she, if you will promise to accomplish the covenants, before you be acquainted with the accident: I will tell ye, if not, I pray ye hold me excused. It were no reason Madame, replied Amadis, to promise any thing overlightly being ignorant to what end it may relate: but if you will let me hear the covenants, they seeming reasonable, and in compass of a Knight's power to execute, fear not to tell me, for I will employ my uttermost therein. You have reason, answered the Lady: then causing each one to withdraw, except the fair young virgin, she thus began. Understand gentle Sir, that the figure of stone you beheld, was made in the remembrance of this Lady's Father, who lieth entombed in the Chariot, being in his time a crowned King, but on a especial festival day, as he held open court and royal, he was assailed by his brother the uncle to this maiden, who came to tell him, that the Crown he wore was his, by as good right as he could claim it, they being both issued from one root. Then drawing a sword, which he had hid under his mantle, gave him such a stroke therewith on the head, that it parted in such sort as you saw in the picture. Long time before did the traitor excogitate this treason, and to the end he might the better execute it, he confederated himself secretly with certain of the King's servants, by whose means he waxed the stronger in his enterprise. But the King being dead, this disloyal wretch was honoured with the crown, for the murdered Prince had no other heir than this his fair daughter, whom the aged Knight that brought you hither had in guard, he showing himself so faithful to her, as he conveyed her thence ere her Uncle could take her, and performed such painful diligence, that he brought my orphan Niece hither for her better safety. Afterwards finding the mean to recover the body of the King her Father, each day we put into our Chariot, riding therewith about the fields as you saw us, we having all solemnly sworn not to show it any one, unless by force of arms we should be compelled thereto: & though such a one happened to see it, yet would we not reveal why we conducted it so, except he would promise to revenge this horrible treason. Now if you be a noble Knight, bound to prosecute virtue, and on so just occasion, you will employ the forces God hath lent ye in a matter of right: for my part, I will continue as I begun, until I find two other Knights on this behalf, that you three for us may confound the traitor and his two Sons, who will allow no combat, unless they fight altogether, which they have often published abroad: how such as will reprove their dealings, must come in this sort. In sooth Madame, answered Amadis, great reason have you to seek means of revenge, for the most famous injury that ever I heard of, and he who hath done it, cannot long endure without shame and misfortune, because heaven scorneth such monstrous actions: but if you can bring it to pass, that one after another they will come to the combat, by the help of God I shall dispatch them. Ah Sir, quoth she, they will never consent hereto. What would you have me do then? (replied Amadis. Marry if it stand with your liking, said the Lady, a year hence to repair hither again if you live so long, you shall find some other here, for by that time I hope to get two Knights more, and you the third to maintain this quarrel, I promise ye, said Amadis, not to fail in this request, therefore never trouble yourself to seek other twain, because I mean to bring them with me, yea, such as shall well defend the right of this Lady, and revenge the treason done to the King her Father. These words he spoke in respect he hoped ere then to find his brother Galaor, and intended likewise to bring his Cousin Agraies with him, by whose assistance he doubted not to finish the enterprise. Right humbly the Ladies thanked him for his good will, and because, quoth they, they whom you must deal withal are valiiant, rough and expert in Arms, as any the circle of the world enjoyeth: we request your choice may be made of such Knights, as shall be able to run thorough this work. Believe me Ladies, answered Amadis, if I had found one I am in search off, I would not stand long studying for the third, were our enemy's devils and no men. Tell us then gentle Sir, said the Lady, if you please, of what country you are, and where we may find ye in tune of our need? Madame, quoth he, I am of King Lisuartes Court, Knight and servant to his Queen Brisana.  
By this time was supper ready and the tables covered, wherefore they broke off talk and went into a very fair hall, where such good cheer and honour was made him as might be devised, even until the hour of rest came. The good night being given on all sides, by the damosel that let loose the Lions he was conducted to his chamber, where she kept him company an indifferent while, and among other speeches, she uttered this. You have her near you my Lord, who succoured you this day more than you imagine. Wherein fair Lady? answered Amadis. Myself, quoth she by commandment of the young Princess, she pitying your peril and the wrong offered you: was charged to let lose the Lions from their den. I never saw, replied Amadis, a more wise and discreet Lady of her years. Insooth, said the damosel, if she live, she shall be endued with two extremities, the one in beauty, and the other in wisdom. I desire ye, quoth Amadis, to thank her most humbly on my behalf, and how in acknowledging the good she did me, henceforth I will remain her Knight. I am well content my Lord, answered the damosel, to carry her this message, because I know it will be most welcome to her: so bidding him good night, she departed the chamber. Now was Gandalin and the Dwarf lodged in the next room where they heard what had passed between Amadis and the damosel, and because the Dwarf knew nothing as yet of his masters love to Oriana, he imagined some new affection was kindled between the young Princess and him, in respect of the offer he made to be her Knight. And to such end did he retain this opinion, as woeful Amadis afterwards had small joy thereof: for hereby he thought to receive a cruel death, as in continuance of this history shallbe declared. The night being spent and bright day appearing, Amadis came to bid the Ladies farewell, requesting to know their names against whom he should combat. The Father, quoth the Lady, is named Abiseos, his eldest Son, Darrison, and the other Dramis, all three most valiant Gentlemen at Arms, excelling all other in that country: which likewise is commonly called Sobradisa, confining on the Kingdom of Serolys. Very well, replied Amadis, by Gods leave we shall one day see what they can do. When he was armed, as he mounted on a lusty courser the ancient Lady had given him, the young Princess presented him a goodly sword, which sometime belonged to the King her Father, saying. Sir Knight, I pray ye henceforth (for my sake) to wear this sword so long as it will last, and I shall pray it may be helpful to you in all your affairs. I assure ye fair Lady, answered Amadis, for your sake will I carefully keep it, and thank you therefore with all my heart: hereof likewise you may be persuaded, that I remain to obey you, and shall aid you in all things concerning your estate and honour. Well might it be discerned in the Lady, how these humble thanks and his former offer, pleased her not a little, wherefore the Dwarf, (who noted the gestures on either side) softly said to her: Madame, you have this day made no small conquest, having so good a Knight at your commandment.   

CHAP. XXIII. ¶ How Amadis departed from the Lady's Castle, and of the matters which were occurent to him by the way.  
AMadis being gone from the ladies Castle, road on without finding any adventure, till he entered the Forest of Angaduze, and the Dwarf, riding somewhat before, saw a far off, a Knight and a damosel coming toward them. When the Knight came right against the Dwarf, he drew his sword to offer him outrage: but he started aside, so that the blow lighted on his shoulders, wherewith he was in such fear, as he fell down from his horse, crying out for help to his master, who seeing when he smote him, made haste for his defence, thus speaking to the Knight. What moves you (Sir) to wrong my Dwarff without cause? now trust me it is but simple manhood, to lay hand on such an excrement of nature as hath no defence of himself, but being in my guard the presumption is great. I am sorry Sir, answered the Knight, to give you any displeasure, but I must needs take his head from his shoulders, because it is my gift to this damosel. Sooner, said Amadis, shalt thou lose thine own. So encountered they together, with such force, as they were both cast beside their horses: yet quickly recovering themselves, they began a most sharp and cruel combat with their swords. Now were they in greater danger of their persons, than ever they had been before, for their shields being sliced in pieces, their swords coloured with their blood, their Armour broken, their helmets battered, & themselves so sore laboured: as they were constrained to draw back awhile to take breath, when the Knight that conducted the Damsel thus spoke to Amadis. My friend, you may judge the danger wherein we both may fall, if longer we continue the Combat: therefore I pray ye let me have my will on the Dwarf, and I will amend the offence afterward, if it may be termed an offence to you. What? said Amadis, do you think me of such slender stomach, as that I will suffer any thing of mine to be wronged in my presence? not so, I must and will defend him to the uttermost. And I must needs have his head, answered the Knight. By heaven, quoth Amadis, one of ours shall first acquit him and that immediately. herewith they charged each other again, with such wonderful courage appearing in either, as several desire to gain the honour of the combat, made them show extreme violence one against another: so that the best resolved of them both thought to die, by abundance of blood which issued from infinite wounds on his body, especially the damsels champion, who though he felt himself greatly impairing, yet made he no show thereof but held out with such brave vivacity of spirit, as his enemy found he had a hard task in hand.  
At this instant an other Knight chanced to pass by, who seeing the two combatants so fierce against each other, determined to expect who should departed with victory: and placing himself by the damosel, demanded if she knew them, or the cause of their quarrel. I must needs know them, answered the damosel, because I set them together as you see, and this good hap is not a little pleasing to me: for it is impossible but one of them must die, nor do I greatly care which of them it be, but if both end, together, my joys would be the greater. Now trust me, said the Knight, full well do you manifest a wicked disposition, practising (for your pleasure) the death of two such brave men, whose health and safety you rather ought to desire, then imagine such a disloyal thought toward them: but tell me I pray ye, what reason you have to hate them so? That can I sufficiently, quoth she. He whose Shield is most defaced, is the only man of the world, to whom mine uncle Arcalaus wisheth most harm, he being named Amadis. And the other that combats with him, is Galaor, who not long since slew the chiefest man I loved. It so fell out, that Galaor heretofore made me promise of any thing I would request, and because this day I was most affectionate to his death: I have brought him to deal with such a one, as will hardly permit him to escape with life. For I knew the other to be one of the best Knights in the world, on whom this Dwarf (which you see) attendeth: I therefore desired Galaor to give the little villains head, being persuaded Amadis would rather die then suffer it. Thus the one to deliver me my request, and the other for his dwarfs defence, are fallen into the extremity of their lives, which doth me good at the heart to behold. By my conscience damosel, replied the Knight, I never thought such malice had remained in a woman of your sort, and I believe assuredly (being yet so young) if longer you live, you will accustom yourself to such villainy as this you begin withal: whereby you shall infect the air and the other elements, to the disadvantage of the honest and virtuous Ladies living at this day. But to shield them from such danger, and these two good Knights, whom treacherously thou wouldst should kill each other, I will make a sacrifice of thee according to thy deserts: then lifting up his sword, he smote her head quite from her shoulders, that it fell on the ground at her horse feet, saying. Take the reward of thy merits, for the love I bear to thine Uncle Arcalaus, who kept me his prisoner, till the virtuous Knight Amadis delivered me: then running to the combatants, he cried out aloud: Hold Lord Amadis, hold your hand, for the man you fight against is your brother Galaor. When Amadis heard these words, he threw down his Sword and shield to the earth, and embracing Galaor, said. Alas my friend, my brother, rightly may I be termed the most unhappy Knight in the world, offering you such outrage as I have done. Galaor amazed at this adventure, knew not what to say: but seeing how Amadis humbled himself on his knee, he fell down likewise, desiring pardon, reputing himself wonderful unfortunate, in wronging thus his Lord and brother: then Amadis weeping with inward conceit of joy, thus answered. Noble brother, and my friend, I esteem the passed peril well employed, because it beareth witness of what we are able to do. So taking off their helmets to refresh themselves, they heartily thanked the Knight that thus cause their acquaintance: whereupon he told them all what the damosel said, and the execution he committed on her. Now trust me, quoth Galaor, never was false strumpet more rightly served, and now am I discharged of the promise I made her. All the better for me, said the Dwarf, and thereby have I saved my head: yet I marvel why she should hate me so much, in respect I never saw her till now to my knowledge. Then did Galaor at large discourse, what happened between him, the damosel, and her friend, as you have heard already rehearsed: but the Knight that separated them, seeing their Armour all covered with blood, thus spoke to them. My Lords, your Armours deliver testimony enough, how discourteously your swords have entreated your bodies, wherefore me thinks long tarrying in this place, will but endanger your wounds: let me request ye then to mount on horsseback and accompany me to my Castle, whether you shall not only be welcome, but find help for your hurts by one skilful therein. We will not refuse your gentle offer, said Amadis. Let us set forward then, answered the Knight, and happy shall I think myself, in doing any service that may be liking to you: for you Lord Amadis delivered me from such cruel imprisonment, as never poor Knight endured the like. Where was it I pray ye? replied Amadis. At the Castle, quoth he, of Arcalaus the enchanter, when you restored so many to liberty. How are you named? said Amadis. Balays, answered the Knight, and because my Castle is cleped Carsanta, I am often termed Balays of Carsanta, therefore my Lords use me and mine as your own. Brother, said Galaor, seeing the Knight reputeth himself so much bounden to you, let us go with him.  
In short time they arrived at the Castle of Balays, where they found Gentlemen and Ladies that courteously entertained them: by reason Balays had sent them word before, how he brought with him the two best Knights in the world, Amadis who delivered him from the strong prison of Arcalaus, and his noble brother Galaor. For this cause were they welcomed much more honourably, and brought into a goodly chamber to be unarmed, where likewise stood two costly beds, and a table furnished with sovereign medicines for their wounds, the cure whereof, two Ladies (being Nieces to Balays) undertook, for they were very learnedly skilled in chirurgery. Now did they employ their uttermost cunning, to recompense Amadis for his worthy pains, in restoring their Uncle from the slavery of Arcalaus: so that within few days, they felt themselves indifferently amended, and almost able to bear their Armour as they did before. Hereupon, Amadis communing with his brother Galaor, declared how to seek him, he departed from the Court of King Lisuart, promising not to return without his company: wherefore he entreated him to yield no denial, in respect no Princes Court was better frequented with chivalry, nor could he find more honour in any other place. My Lord, quoth Galaor, I intent to accomplish what you please to command me, albeit I desire not as yet to be known among men of account: first would I have my deeds give some witness, how desirous I am to imitate your proceed, or else to die in this religious affection. Certes brother, answered Amadis, for this matter you need not abandon the place, seeing your renown is already greater than mine, if so be I have any at all: yea it is darkened by the illustrate splendour of your chivalry. Ah my Lord, replied Galaor, never disguise matters in this order with me, seeing not in deeds, no, not so much as in thought, am I able to reach the height of such honour. Leave we then this talk, said Amadis, for our Kingly Father maketh no difference of virtue between us: but will ye know what I have presently devised? I see well we must stay here longer for our health, than otherwise we would, for which cause I intent if you think good, to send my Dwarf before to King Lisuarts Court, that he may advertise the Queen of our stay, and so soon as we are able to travail, we mean not to tarry long from her. Do as you please, answered Galaor. Presently was the Dwarf dispatched thence, who made such good speed in his journey, as within few days he arrived at Windsor, where King Lisuart was then accompanied with many good Knights.   

CHAP. XXIIII. ¶ How King Lisuart being in the chase, saw a far off three Knights armed coming toward him, & what followed thereupon.  
IT chanced on a certain day, that King Lisuart summoned a meeting in Windsor Forrest, which was well stored with red Deer, and all other game needful for hunting. And as he was in chase of a Hart, he espied a good distance from him, three armed Knights to cross the way: wherefore he sent a Squire to them, with request that they would come unto him: upon this message they immediately obeyed, returning with the Squire to the King, and when they drew near him, he quickly knew Galuanes, because he had seen him many times before: when embracing him, the King bade him heartily welcome, and the rest in his company likewise, for he was a Prince, the most graciously entertained all Kniggts, especially strangers: then he demanded what the other were. My Lord, quoth Galuanes, this young Prince is my Nephew Agraies, Son to the King of Scots, and one of the best Knights in the world I dare assure ye: the other is Oliuas, whom your majesty hath well known héertofore. The King embraced them very lovingly, saying to Agraies: Fair Cousin, I must needs take this gentleness, very kindly, that you would vouchsafe to see me. As for you sir Oliuas, I thought you had forgotten us, considering the long time since you were here: and in sooth it is a matter very displeasant to me, when so good a Knight as you are would so absent himself. Dread Lord answered Oliuas, my earnest affairs kept me hence against my will, which hath made me the more negligent in your service: and yet I am not free from them, as (if you please) I shall let ye understand. Then he reported, how Galuanes and Agraies came to his Castle, by means of the damosel that conducted them thither, whom they very worthily delivered from death: likewise how the Duke of Bristoya trecherouslye slew his Cousin, for which he humbly craved justice, with free liberty to combat before his Majesty, where he doubted not to make him confess his treason. After the King had well pondered his discourse, and understood the hard dealing of the Duke: he was highly discontented, for he knew Oliuas Cousin to be a good Knight, whereupon he thus answered. Believe me, seeing the Duke hath committed such a fault, & you request justice of me, assure yourself to obtain it, and I will send for him to come justify it in person.  
Presently the King gave over hunting, returning with the three Knights to his Court, conferring on many matters by the way: among which the King demanded of Galuanes, why the Duke of Bristoya would have burned the damosel whom they rescued. Because Sir, quoth he, she brought a Knight named Galaor into his palace, and (as we understand) it was in the night time, and no other reason had he to allege. Why? said the King, Amadis is gone to seek Galaor, but since his departure we were put in a terrible fear, by Arcalaus, who said he had slain him, But are you certain Sir, answered Agraies, that he liveth? yea indeed, quoth the King, Brandoyvas and Grindaloya came hither since then, and they gave us such credible testimony of his welfare, as I may full well assure ye thereof: for loath am I to offend any other, because no one can desire his good and honour more than I do. It is the argument of your good nature replied Agraies, likewise in respect of his bounty and valour, he deserveth to be loved of you, even with like affection as good men wish to their like.  
By this time are they come to the Court, where these news were quickly brought to the Queen, which rejoiced very many, especially fair Olivia, who loved Agraies dearer than herself, and the Princess Mabila his Sister was not sorry: for as she came from the queens chamber, she met Olivia, who thus spoke to her. You cannot choose (Madame) but be well pleased with your Brothers coming. Very true, quoth Mabila, for I love him as mine own heart. Desire then I pray ye the Queen, said Olivia, to send for him to her Chamber, to the end we may have the mean to confer with him together, so shall the pleasure of you both be fully satisfied. That shall I do, answered Mabila, so going to the queens Chamber, she thus spoke to her Majesty. It were good (Madame) you should see my brother and mine Uncle Galuanes, in respect they are come hither to honour you with their service. Sweet friend, said the Queen, I take it very gently that you have so well advised me, for I promise ye I am very desirous to see them: wherewith she sent one of her Ladies to the King, desiring him that they might come to her, which he liking very well, said. Gentlemen, my Queen is desirous to see you all three, let me then request your consent herein. You must judge if Agraies liked this motion, because he certainly knew to find there the Princess Olivia, the choice Lady and Mistress of his heart. But when they came among the Ladies, their entertainment was good and gracious, especially by the Queen herself, who caused them to sit down by her, as meaning matter of more private conference. Many familiar speeches were intercoursed between them, and practising by all means to welcome them honourably: for she was the only Queen of the world, that soonest could win the hearts of Gentlemen, and therein took no little pleasure, by means whereof she was loved of most and least, being reputed the most virtuous Lady living.  
Now had Olivia made choice of her place next Mabila, thinking Agraies would soon come to his Sister when he left the Queen: but while he beguiled the time with her, his eye glanced on the object of his heart, which he being unable to dissemble, was compelled to a sudden alteration of countenance, and could not withdraw his looks from the Adamant of his thoughts: which the Queen somewhat noted, yet imagined his Sister Mabila was the cause, and that he was desirous to talk with her, wherefore she thus spoke to him. My Lord Agraies, will ye not see your Sister whom you love so dearly? Yes Madame, quoth he, so it please you to give me leave? Herewith he arose and came to Mabila, who stepping forward to meet him, you must think Olivia was not one jot behind her, but welcomed him both with semblable reverence. But Olivia looving him as you have heard, (over-maistring her will with reason, as a most wise and well advised Princess) gave little in outward show: till after sundry amiable speeches passing between them three, they had some leisure to stand awhile asunder from all the rest. Yet did Agraies keep near his Mistress, taking her by the hand, and playing with her fingers, often sent her a sweet kiss in imagination: so that by entire regarding her, he was transported with such singular delight, as he neither heard or made any answer to his Sister. She being ignorant as yet of his disease, knew not well what to think, for notwithstanding all her courteous speeches, his mind was otherwise busied then on her: yet in the end she discovered the cause of this sudden mutation, perceiving that Olivia and her brother were surprised with each others love. Whereupon she thought it best to favour them with more liberty, feigning a desire to speak with her Uncle Galuanes, which she prettily coullered in this manner. Brother, quoth she, I pray ye entreat the Queen that my Uncle may come hither, because it is long time since I saw him, and I have somewhat to acquaint him withal secretly. I hope to obtain so much of her, answered Agraies: whereupon he went to the Queen, and thus spoke. Madame, if you could spare mine uncle a little, you might do his Niece a very great pleasure, for she is desirous to talk with him. And reason good, said the Queen: at which words Galuanes went with him, which Mabila seeing, she humbly met him making great reverence, when Galuanes using the like to her, began in this manner. Fair Niece, I am glad to see you in such good disposition: but tell me I pray ye, do you like Scotland or this country better? We shall confer quoth she, more conveniently at the window, because I have many things to tell ye, which were needless for my brother to understand: nor shall he, they being of such importance as they are. These words she uttered smiling, and with a marvelous good grace: chiefly because her Brother might court his friend alone. And well said Niece, answered Galuanes, our secrets are so great, as they must needs be kept from him. So taking her by the hand, they went aside to one of the windows, by means whereof, Agraies and Olivia were left alone: when the Prince perceiving he had liberty to speak, trembling in abundance of affection, he began thus. Madame, to accomplish your commandment when you parted from me, as also to satisfy my heart which never enjoyeth rest, but in the gracious contentment, conveyed thereto through mine eyes by your presence, I am come hither to serve and obey you: assuring you on my faith, that being near your person, my spirits feel themselves vivified in such sort, as they suffer with great strength the anguishs of continual affection, which makes them dead in time of your absence. Therefore I desire ye (if it be your pleasure) to limit me some better hap hereafter, in place where I may often see and do you service: and as he would have proceeded further, Olivia interrupted him in this manner. Alas my Lord, I am so assured of the love you bear me, and also of the grief you endure, we being absent one from an other: as no other proof is required, than what mine own heart doth plainly testify, smothering a displeasure worse than death itself: whereto oftentimes I could very gladly submit myself, did not a cheerful hope reback this despair, how one day our love shall meet together with happy contentation. And persuade yourself, that I daily travail in remembrance of our mutual love: mean while (sweet friend) temporize and dismay not. Mistress, said Agraies, you have already so bound me to you, as I must (in duty) temporize till time you please, but I desire ye to consider, how I have no forces, but such as you must fortify me withal: so that if you continue your graces to me as you have begun, I shall have strength to serve according to your deserts. While I live my Lord, quoth she, never will I fail ye, be you then so well advised, as every one may love and esteem ye: whereby I may strive to love you more than any other can, in respect you are none of theirs, or your own, but mine only. And if it happen some to speak of you, you must think I receive incomprehensible joy therein, for it cannot be without recital of your haughty courage and chivalry: yet my heart dreading the dangerous occurrences, which may ensue by overbolde venturing, accompanieth the former pleasure with as great a pain. Agraies abashed to hear himself so praised. veiled his looks, and she loath to offend him, altered her speech, demanding what he was determined to do. On my faith Madame, qd he, I will do nothing but what you please to command me. I will then, said Olivia, that henceforth you keep company with your Cousin Amadis, for I know he loveth you entirely, and if he counsel you to be one of this Court, deny it not. Believe me (Madame) answered Agraies, both you & such good counciling will I obey: for setting your divine self aside, there is no man living whom I will more credit with mine affairs, than my honourable Cousin Amadis.  
At these words the Queen called him and Galuanes likewise, having knowledge of him in her father's Kingdom of Denmark, where he performed many brave deeds of arms: and likewise in Norway, so that fame reported him a right good Knight. They being with her, the Queen remembered Galuanes of her ancient acquaintance, at which instant the Princess Oriana came to them, wherefore Agraies arose to salute her, leaving Galuanes with the Queen, and settled himself to confer with Oriana: who entertained him marvelous kindly, as well for Amadis sake whom he loved, as also the courtesy he showed her in Scotland, when King Lisuart left her there at his return from Denmark, as you have heard before declared: the Princess thus speaking to Agraies. Cousin, we have daily desired your presence here, especially your Sister, who not many days since was in great grief, by false news that came hither of Amadis death your kinsman, as truly you would have wundered thereat. Good reason had she Madame, quoth Agraies, to be sorrowful, and not she alone, but all the rest of his lineage were bound to no less: knowing when our Cousin dieth, the chief and most excellent of us all dieth, yea, the best Knight that ever bare Armour on his body, and you must think, his death would have been avenged and accompanied with many other. Ah, said she, the villain Arcalaus shrewdly affrighted us, and evil death betid him, for troubling this royal Court in such sort.  
By this time the King was ready to the table, wherefore he sent for the three Knights from the Queen, commanding them to sit by him, in company of many great Lords & Barons. And as the service came in, two Knights entered the hall, who falling on their knees before the King, the first of them thus spoke. God prosper your Majesty with increase of joy and honour, most humbly I desire to know, if Amadis of Gaul be in this Court. Not at this present, answered the King, but we could wish he were here. Right glad would I be, said the Knight, to find him, because by his means I hope to recover what I am now far from. Tell us my friend, quoth the King, if you please, who you are. My Lord, replied the Stranger, I am a sad Knight named Angriote d'Estrauaus, and this other is my brother, when King Arban of Norgalles (who was there present) heard him speak of Angriote, he started from the table, & stepping to the King, said: Doth not your Majesty know Sir Angriote? such as have dealt with him, will say he is one of the best Knights in your Kingdom. My friend, quoth the King to Angriote, I pray you arise, and pardon me if I have not honoured you according to your deserts: for the fault was only committed through ignorance, but be sure you are welcome and that with heart, but say I desire ye, how came you acquainted with Amadis? My Lord, replied Angriote, I have known him no long time, and my first acquaintance was very dearly bought, for I never thought to die till I was wounded: but he that did me the harm, promised afterward to give me help, which is very needful now to cure me: hereto he added the whole accident as you heard it before. In sooth, said the King, I would be glad these matters should have a good end, but now come sit down with us to dinner, afterward we will consider thereon as we may. Next to King Arban was Angriote placed, and as they were about to rise from the table, Dardan the Dwarf to Amadis entered the Hall: whom Angriote knowing, called him, demanding where he had left his Master, because he saw him last in his company. Sir, quoth the Dwarf, where soever I have left him, he maketh good account of you: then falling on his knee before the King, he thus began. Amadis my Lord humbly saluteth your Majesty, and all the rest of his friends in this Court. Dwarf, said the King, where didst thou leave him? In such a place my Lord, quoth the Dwarf, where he is of good cheer: but if you would know any more, it must be in the presence of the Queen. With right good will, answered the King: and hereupon sent presently for the Queen, she quickly coming, being attended on by divers beautiful Ladies, the most part of them the amorous friends to the Knights then waiting on the King, whereby they purchased leave (during the dwarfs discourse) to devise with them, at better leisure then long time before they could: but the Dwarf beholding the Queen present, thus proceeded. Madame, my Lord and master Amadis in all humble reverence saluteth your excellency, commanding me to tell ye, that he hath found Prince Galaor his brother he sought for. Now trust me, said The Queen, I am heartily glad thereof. But on my credit Madame, quoth the Dwarf, never was heard of such a perilous meeting of two brethren, for if God had not the better provided, both the one and the other had never been seen again, so near were they both at the point of death: but by hap a good Knight arrived there, who names himself Balays, and he found the means to agree them. Then told he all the whole accident, how Balays slew the damosel that procured their quarrel, for which, Balays was highly commended of them all. But where hast thou left them? replied the Queen? At the Castle of Carsanta Madame, said the Dwarf, where Balays dwelleth, from whence I was dispatched hither with this message. But tell me Dwarf, quoth the Queen, what thinkest thou of Galaor? I think Madame, answered the Dwarf, that he is one of the goodliest Knights in the world, carrying a resolution not one jot inferior to the best: and did you see him in company of my Lord, you could make little difference between them. I marvel, said the Queen that they come not hither. Assure yourself, replied the Dwarf, no sooner shall they recover health, but they will be here with you, for so they expressly commanded me to tell ye. So joyful was the King héerof, that he minded to keep open Court after they were come: commanding his Lords and Barons not to depart his court, whereto they all willingly condescended. He likewise desired the Queen, to send for all the chief Ladies in the Realm: For the more honourably, quoth he, you are attended on by Ladies, the more Knights shall they find here to deserve their love, on whom I will bestow many rich gifts and presents.   

CHAP. XXV. ¶ How Amadis, Galaor, and Balays determined to travail to King Lisuart, and what adventures happened by the way between them.  
SO long sojourned Amadis and Galaor, at the Castle of Balays of Carsanta, as their wounds being thoroughly healed: they intended to return to King Lisuarts Court, before they would enterprise any other adventures. Balays who desired to bear them company, for the familiar acquaintance he had now with them: entreated them to afford him so much favour, wherewith they were very well contented Departing thence, they ride toward Windsor, and after they had journeyed five days, they came into a four cornered way, in the midst whereof stood a tree, and under it a dead Knight lay on a rich bed, with great wax tapers standing burning at the bolster and feet, which notwithstanding any great wind could not be extinguished. The dead Knight was unarmed, and not covered with any thing, wherefore easily might a great many wounds be discearned on his head, and a truncheon of a Lance, pierced with the iron quite through his neck and throat: beside in such manner did the dead Knight hold up his hands thereon, as if he would have pulled forth the Lance. Greatly was Amadis and the rest amazed héerat, and feign they would know what the Knight should be, but they could see no body of whom they might inquire, nor any place near that was inhabited, which moved Amadis thus to speak. Doubtless without some great occasion, this Knight was not brought into this place, being alone and furnished in this strange manner: if we stay here a while, some adventure or other must needs ensue hereon. And so think I, answered Galaor, whereupon he thus spoke. Brother, this rash oath, somewhat displeaseth me, for I doubt it will be an occasion of our long tarrying in this place. What I have said, answered Galaor, is done: with these words he alighted from his horse, and sat down at the dead Knights feet: which the other twain perceiving, concluded not to leave him, but even to take such part as he did.  
Now was it between noon and evening, when they being thus dismounted, might at more ease visit the wounds of the dead man: and Amadis seeing his hands on the truncheon in his throat, confounded with grief and marvel, said. Doubtless he yielded his spirit as he now holds his hands, because they still remained in the place. And as they were thus communing together, they heard a great noise of some coming toward them, when presently they espied a Knight and two Squires, the one bearing a shield and helmet, and the other driving a damosel before him, she giving many shréekes and outcries, because the Knight smote her often with the end of his Lance: and thus they passed by the bed where the dead knight lay, when the damosel seeing the three Knights by the coarse, cried. Ah Good Knight who liest on the bed, wert thou alive, I am sure thou wouldst not suffer me to be thus cruelly handled, if hazarding thy body in a thousand perils might defend me: would God the death of these vallaynes had excused thine. sayst thou so? quoth the Knight that used her so hardly, and thou shalt know the price of thy words: then smote her with his Lance so cruelly over the head, as made the blood in great abundance to trickle down her face, and so road on still beating her: which Amadis grieving to behold, said to his companions. In sooth, never did I see such a bad minded Knight, to outrage a poor damosel in such spiteful manner: but (if God be my guide) he shall not long abuse her so. Therefore brother, quoth he to Galaor, if I tarry too long, set forward I pray ye to Windsor with Balays, and I will come thither with what speed I may: then mounting on horse back, he commanded Gandalin to follow him, and galloped after the Knight, who by this time had gained a great deal of ground.  
Thus remained Galaor and Balays alone there till night, which being very dark, they could not see but heard a Knight come riding the same way which Amadis took, who complaining of grief in his leg, lay holding himself about his horse neck: but when he espied Galaor and Balays, he demanded if they knew the Knight that rid so fast the same way he came. Why ask you? ansered Galaor, Because said the Knight, I would he might break his neck, for he runneth so rudely, as if he followed some Devil. What rudeness hath he offered you? answered Galaor. He would not tell me, quoth the Knight, neither by intreatance or other courteous mean, why he made such haste: and I seeing him so self-willed, laid hold on his horse bridle, resolved to make him pay for boldness, and to satisfy me either by friendship or force. Well, answered Balays, what did he there tell ye? Nothing to my demand replied the Knight, but peremptorily thus spoke. That he would tarry no longer to tell me, except I first combated with him. hereupon we charged each other, he giving me such a shroud push with his Lance, as I and my horse were tumbled quite over, and in the fall I broke my leg as you may behold. When Galaor and Balays heard his report, knowing full well he spoke of Amadis. they fell into u great laughter, saying: In good faith now are you taught against another time, not to be over importunate to know any thing against a man's will. Belike you mock me then, answered the Knight, and trust me you may happen to repent it: then coming near galaor's horse, he gave him such a blow on his nose, as making him furiously to break his bridle, gave him likertie libewise to run about the field, & thinking he was not revenged enough, sought how to serve Balays horse in the same sort, but they both stepped between with their Lances and kept him off: which the Knight perceiving, giving the spurs to his horse, he road away, saying. If I had sped the other knight so well, I would have thought myself half recompensed: learn you then to scorn me another time. Is it true? said Balays, and God never help me in my need, if I make thee not leave thy horse for the other thou hast sent ranging. Presently he leapt into his Saddle, desiring Galaor to stay for him till morning, for then at the uttermost he hoped to return.  
By these accidents is Galaor left alone, attending news of the matter he vowed: for he had sent his Squire to recover his horse, which by mishap took his way into a thick wood. In mean while the greater part of the night is spent, and Galaor could enjoy no rest, through extreme affection after his enterprise: but about break of day he found his spirits so over-watched, as (whether he would or no) he was compelled to take off his helmet and shield, and leaning on them forgot himself so much, that when he awaked, he neither saw the candles burning, or the dead Knight which lay on the bed, whereat he became so sorrowful, as he entered into these complaints. Well I perceive, that I am unworthy so high an enterprise, seeing so fond I have failed in such an easy matter. Now see I how Fortune (through this my slothfulness) scorneth the little favour she showed me at the beginning: and well may she do so, seeing I would so carelessly fall a sleep, at such a time as she commanded me to watch. But seeing I have so wilfully onffended, I will amend it by an answerable penance: for I will recover on foot with the travail of my body, the murdered man carried from me in my sleep. Then followed he the tract of their feet, whom he imagined had conveyed thence the Knight, and walking on warily, as loath to fail thereof, he heard the neighing of a horse: which made him shape his course thitherward, albeit he could discern no body, yet passed he further, because he heard the like noise of other horses. Not far had he gone, but he espied two Knights armed, one of them being alighted from his horse, and reading certain letters engraven on a stone, afterwards he said to his companion. In vain did they make me come to this place, for I understand not one word of them: wherewith he mounted again, and they road away not seeing Galaor, but he called to them, saying. Gentlemen, can ye not tell me who hath carried away a dead Knight, who not long since lay under a tree in the four cornered street behind? verily, answered one of them, we know nothing thereof, but about midnight we saw three damsels pass by, and ten Squires with them conducting a Litter. Which way did they take? said Galaor. This on the left hand, replied the Knight: so giving them thanks, he went the same way he was directed, and soon after saw a damosel coming toward him, to whom he said. It may be (Lady) you can tell me who hath carried away the dead Knight, that lay under the tree not far hence? If you will promise me quoth she, to revenge his death, which is an exceeding great grief to many: I will resolve you therein. I will not stick for that, answered Galaor, for it seemeth by your words it is an act of justice to do it. Very true, said the damosel, mount up before me on my Palfrey, and I shall direct ye to your desire. When they had ridden about two miles, she showed him a marvelous fair Castle, and alighting at the gate, she bade him enter: But remember, quoth she, what you have promised. And because I have solicited you hereto, I pray ye let me understand your name, likewise where I may find you when time shall serve. I am called Galaor, quoth he, and think you shall hereafter find me in King Lisuartes Court, than any where else. I am satisfied, said the damosel, to God I commend ye: then she turned bridle and road away, but Galaor entered the Castle, where he found the dead Knight laid in the midst of the Court, and by him stood many making great lamentation. Nevertheless Galaor approached nóer, and stepping to an ancient Knight, demanded of him what the dead Knight was. Sir, answered the old man, while he lived he was such a one, as all the world may bemoan his misfortune. Do you know his name? said Galaor. He was called Anthebon replied the other, one of the most virtuous Gentlemen that ever lived in Gaul. When Galaor heard he was a subject to King Perion his Father, his heart began to storm, and as he pitied him the more, so his desire increased to revenge his death: whereupon he entreated the Knight, to acquaint him with the truth of this tragical accident: Sir, quoth he, this infortunate Gentleman which you see, was (in respect of his bounty and virtue) married to a wife, who now lamenteth for him, she being the Lady of this Castle. In time they had a very fair Daughter, and she growing in years, was beloved by a Knight our too neer-neighbour: but the young damosel ever hated him, and above all other could not abide him. Whereof he getting intelligence determined by some mean or other to steal her hence, and being so resolved, (forgetting God, as also his own honour) watched when this good Knight, (as customely he used) should go to the cornered street, there to secure such as often were distressed, because it is the most dangerous place in this country. Knowing him thus to be from home, the disloyal wretch entered this Castle, and finding the maiden in company of her mother, with divers other Gentlewomen hoere disporting: maugre them all, forcibly he took her away, before we could fall the bridge to secure her. Hoer-upon as we afterwards understood) she did nothing day and night but grievously mourn, despising all the enticing blandishments the Knight used to her: which in the end displeased him so much, as be began in this sort to reprove her. Lady you know that I love ye with all my heart, desiring only to have the like of you, meaning no otherwise then honourably to make you my wife: but you scornfully disdain me, albeit I am descended of a more noble house then your Father is, which maketh me marvel very much, what should move you thus to be mine enemy? In good faith I will tell ye, quoth she. I heretofore made promise to my Mother, and such is still my deliberation: that I would never match with any husband, if he were not so good a Knight, and comparable with my Father in chivalry, for which she made choice of him among all other Knights: to which words, he thus answered. By heaven I see you love me now, for ere it be long I will make sufficient proof, that I am a better man at arms than he. Within a while after, he left his Castle, being well mounted and armed, placing himself under the tree where you saw this Knight dead, to what intent I cannot tell: but unhappily the Lord of this Castle came that way, having left his horse and Armour, because he only intended to take the air. The cowardly wretch seeing what advantage he had of him, and remembering the promise he made his Lady, thought it place commodious to get him reputation, and no witnesses by to report the contrary, so without giving him warning, or speaking one word to him, stealing behind him, smote his Lance through his neck as you here behold. Thus, unprovided of defence, likewise suddenly and most villainously, was this good Knight slain: and yet the bloody traitor not satisfied, alighting from his horse, gave him many needless cruel wounds with his sword, and so despitefully left him there. In good faith, answered Galaor, the deed is monstrous, unable to pass without common reprehension: but seeing you have vouchsafed me this favour, I pray ye tell me, why was he afterward laid on such a costly bed under the tree? Because it being a continual passage for Knights errant, said the old man, to try if any would be so honourably provoked, as to revenge an act of such shame and contempt, after we had acquainted them with this sad discourse. I found him alone at the tree, replied Galaor, what was the cause then you left him so? Your demand is not amiss, quoth the old man, for four Squires were ever wont to guard him: but because the Knight who did the murder came and threatened to kill them, we were constrained to bring away the body hither. I marvel, said Galaor, that I heard not the noise, it may well be said I slept soundly. Are you he, replied the old man, whom we found leaning a sleep on your Helmet? The very same man, answered Galaor. Why did you rest so homely there? quoth the old man. To revenge his death, said Galaor, if by reason I might do so much. Ah worthy Sir, answered the old man, heaven grant the finishing thereof to your honour: then taking him by the hand, he brought him to the bed whereon the dead man lay, thus speaking to the sorrowful Lady. Madame, this Knight saith (to his power) he will revenge the death of your Lord. Alas gentle Knight, quoth she, the God of heaven keep you in that good mind, for I can find no kindred or friend in this country, who will do so much for me, because my Lord was a stranger: yet while he lived, every one showed great friendship in looks, but now their kindness is cold enough. Lady, answered Galaor, in respect both he and I were borne in one country, my desire is the greater to revenge his death. Are you, said the Lady, the Son to King Perion of Gaul, whom my deceased Lord often told me was in King Lisuartes Court? Never came I there Madame, replied Galaor, in all my life: but tell me what he is that did this treason, and in what place I may find him? Gentle Lord, quoth she, you shall be conducted thither if you please: nevertheless I stand in doubt, (considering the peril) you will mislike the enterprise, as many other have done, who were heretofore accompanied thither. Herein Mad Madame, said Galaor, is the difference between good and bad, yet if you will allow me so much, as you did them that made refusal, happily I may speed better than they did. The Lady noting his honourable disposition, called two of her damsels, commanding them to conduct Galaor, to the Knight that held her daughter perforce. In sooth Madame, said the Prince, little credit shall you have by sending me on foot, my own horse I lost (not long since) in the wood by hard fortune: I pray ye then let me have another on this condition, that if I revenge not your cause, I may stand bound to deliver him again. You shall have one Sir, answered the Lady, for I hope by your prowess: not only our possessions shall remain at your disposing, but ourselves likewise your obedient servants.   

CHAP. XXVI. ¶ How Galaor revenged the death of the Knight, whom he found slain on the bed under the tree.  
THus departed Galaor in conduct of the two damsels, who leading him the nearest way thorough a Forest, at the further side thereof showed him a Castle, being the place whether they were commanded to bring him, whereupon they thus spoke to the Prince. Behold my Lord, at this Fortress you may revenge the murdered Knights death. Tell me his name, replied Galaor. He is called Palingues, answered the damsels. Being now come hard by the Castle, they saw the gate was fast, which made Galaor call out aloud, whereat an armed Knight came on the battlements, demanding what he sought fo. I would enter the Castle answered Galaor. This gate, quoth he, is appointed to no other end, but for the coming forth of such as remain here within. Which way shall I enter then? said Galaor. I will show you, quoth the Knight: But I doubt I shall travail in vain, and that you dare not come to us. Now trust me, replied Galaor, I would feign have been within long since. We shall quickly see that, said the Knight, if your hardiness be such as you make show of: alight from your horse and come near the Castle wall. Which Galaor did, and giving his horse to the Damosels, went to the place where he was appointed. Then came the Knight again and another with him, seeming of greater stature than his companion: they two winding a winch about, over the wall let down a basket with a cord, saying to the Prince. If you will enter here, the passage by the basket is this high way. But if I put myself therein, answered Galaor, will ye promise to draw me up in safety? Yea truly, quoth they, albeit after ward we will not warrant ye. Crediting their words, he entered the basket, saying. Draw me up, for on your honest promise I adventure. herewith they began to wind up the basket, which the damsels seeing, marveling not a little at galaor's hardiness, said: Ah good Knight, God shield thee from treason, for doubtless thou she west a gentle and valiant heart.  
By this time the Knights had drawn him up, taking him and the basket in at the top, afterward the Knights thus began with him. Gentleman, it is necessary you swear to aid the Lord of this Castle, against such as would quarrel with him for the death of Anthebon, otherwise you never shall depart hence. What? said Galaor, did one of you twain kill him? Why demand you? replied the other. Because, quoth he, I am come to let the murderer know, how he hath committed a deed of monstrous treason. Come ye for that intent? said they, now surely you might have been a great deal better advised: darest thou threaten us, and art in custody? alas, we must have another manner of account at thy hands, and we must chastise the folly wherewith thy brain is troubled: then drawing their Swords, they laid upon him very furiously. When Galaor saw himself thus wronged both in words and deeds, he entered into such choler, as quickly he made them feel the edge of his sword, so that the damsels might easily hear the clanching of the strokes on the Armour: for the two Knights were strong and vigorous, and Galaor well moved with hot displeasure. Ah God, quoth one of the damsels, hark how the worthy Knight dealeth with the traitors, let us not depart hence till we see some end thereof. All this while Galaor so laboured his enemies with such sharp charges, as their hearts began somewhat to despair, for to one of them he gave such a blow on the helmet, as his sword entered three fingers deep into his head: afterward he buffeted him with the hilts of his Sword, that he made him fall on his knees to the ground. In mean space the other spared not Galaor, but laid load on him to revenge his companion, whose head the Prince had now severed from his shoulders: and coming to the other, the coward began to turn his back, running down the stairs faster than ever he came up: but Galaor followed so nimbly, that laying hold on him, he made him sure for ever letting down the basket again, to draw up any more Knights on the walls.  
Now because the Prince knew not Palingues, and doubting one of these twain to be he, he threw them over the battlements to the Ladies, bidding them to look on them and afterward to resolve him: but they answered, they were so mangled as they could not judge of them, and they were persuaded that Palingues was neither of these twain. Where upon Galaor went down into the Castle, and as he looked every where about him, he espied a fair young Lady who cried aloud: Palingues, Palingues, is this the great chivalry for which thou wouldst be renowned? now thou fliest like a cowardly and faint hearted knight, yet sayest thou wert a better man at arms then my murdered Father, whom thou killed'st (as thou vauntest) in combat hand to hand. In sooth what I ever doubted is now come to pass: why dost thou not attend this Knight who looketh for thee? if there be any manly heart or spirit in thee, show it now in need when thy life depends thereon. At these words Galaor looked more aside, and espied Palingues well armed, who was opening the door of a Tower to save himself, wherefore he stepped to him, saying. Believe me Knight, this flying will little advantage thee, and less the strong hold thou wouldst enter into: for thou must answer the life of good Anthebon, whose death thou didst compass by monstrous villainy. Palingues seeing there was no other remedy, turned and fiercely smote at Galaor, his sword entering so far into the Princes shield, as he was not able to pull it out again: by means whereof Galaor reached him such a blow, that therewith his right arm was cut quite from his body, the grief whereof so pained him, as he ran into the chamber where the Lady was, thinking by this poor shift to defend his life. But Galaor getting hold on his legs, dregged him along on his back out again, and with his Sword smote his head from his shoulders: This is, quoth he, the reward of thy treacheries done to Anthebon, and payment for thy treason in the action of his death. The daughter of Anthebon being present at this deed, having heard Galaor often name her Father, fell on her knees before him with these words. Alas my Lord, you have bound me in such duty to you, as never shall I be able to requite your pains, myself being of such simple and slender ability: but the good will I have to recompense this benefit, hath imprinted daily prayers in my heart to God for you, having to justly revenged the death of my father, and the wrongful forcing of this traitor. Galaor courteously taking her up, embracing her in his arms, thus answered. On my faith fair friend, he were a man of little sense, that would offer displeasure to such a one as you are, seeing you much better deserve to be loved and served, then with grief or favour to be offended: but tell me, have you any more enemies in this Castle? No Sir, replied the damosel, those which remain, are to do you honour and obeisance. Let us go then, quoth he, to let in two Damoselles, who were my guides hither from your Lady mother. So taking him by the hand, she commanded the gate to be opened, and the two Damoselles entered leading Galaors horse: but when they saw their young Mistress, they humbly made her reverence, demanding if her father's death were revenged to her desire. Yea verily, quoth she, I thank God and this Knight, who hath done that many other could not do.  
It was now the vehement hot time of the day, wherefore Galaor took off his helmet to refresh himself, when the Lady seeing him so young and beautiful, as also so valiant in deeds of arms: began to be touched with love, and setting aside both fear and bashfulness, she began to embrace and kiss him, saying. My honourable Lord and friend, more cause have I to love you then any other creature living. In good faith, quoth he, and I love you likewise, as well in respect of your beauty and good grace, as also for your deceased Father's sake, he and I being borne in one Country. May if it please ye Sir, said she, to tell me your name? Such as are acquainted with me, answered the Prince, term me Galaor. In soothe my Lord, quoth she, often have I heard my father speak of Sir Amadis your brother, and of you likewise, saying you were the sons to the King of Gaul, his liege Lord and sovereign. As thus they devised, they entered alone into a chamber, while the Damosels with the rest were providing viands: wherefore Galaor seeing time and place so commodious, to request the love of her that used him so kindly, she being a Lady, young, fresh and fair, named Brandueta, himself likewise active and desirous of such sweet baits, thus spoke, Madame, if Palingues loved you as I have heard, he had great reason for it, knowing you to be such a one as I see you are: for myself, who have so little acquaintance with you, am already so deep in devotion to your gracious nature, as I would repute myself happy, if you granted me the favour I desire, accepting me as your friend and servant. The Lady not one jot behind him in amorous affection, shaped him this answer. I have told ye my Lord, that I love you more than any other living creature, therefore you may be certainly assured, how my desire is to please you in all things whatsoever. During these speeches, Galaor still held his love in his arms, kissing and toying with her so pleasantly, as Diana soon after lost her interest in the maiden, whereto Brandueta yielded with greater contentment, than all her former resistaunces to Palingues: from whom she kept her virginity so long, that she was now content to bestow it on the French Prince, and he having a good stomach to such dainty diet, made her love him the better for it while she lived. But see an unhappy inconvenience, after many embracings and amorous conferences, as they would once more have besieged the Fortress of love: the Damoselles came to tell them that dinner was ready, wherefore (though loath) they were forced to leave off, accompanying the damsels to the place where the tables were covered, which was under a Gallery environed with trees.  
As they sat at the table, and discoursed of many matters, among other things Brandueta declared to him, how Palingues (standing in fear of him and his brother Amadis) caused this Castle to be kept so strongly: considering that her Father Anthebon was of Gaul, and King Perion's subject, the sooner would they assay to work revenge for his death. For this reason, quoth she, he allowed no other entrance then by the basket into this Castle, where I have lived in marvelous grief and sorrow, as never shall I desire to tarry here longer: therefore right gentle Lord and friend, might it so like you, without any longer stay I would gladly see my mother, who will not be a little glad of my return, and yours likewise. Galaor was very well contented, and though it were late, yet got they to horsseback, departing from the Castle: but for all their haste they were two hours benighted, which broke no square in respect of the good news, the good Lady with all her family joyfully receiving them, with all honourable means could be devised, beside, the comforted widow cast herself at his feet, using these speeches. worthy Lord, both I and mine are bound to you for ever, referring to your disposition whatsoever we enjoy, because you are the restorer and confirmer of all. I thank you Madame, answered Galaor, for your friendly offers, but where no desert is, the requital must of force be far more easy. Now the greater part of the night being spent, they broke of talk and bequeathed themselves to rest, and Galaor being alone in his chamber, remembered his lovely breakfast before dinner with his new friend: who likewise was so deep in consideration thereof, that she could wish such another ere supper, and whether she did or no, judge you. For no sooner knew she every one to be in bed, but secretly she came to galaor's chamber, where she had no churlish speeches to drive her away, but most dainty, sweet, and gracious entertainment: what else they did I know not, but she tarried there till morning, and then returned unseen of any.   

CHAP. XXVII. ¶ How Amadis pursuing the Knight that misused the damosel, met another Knight with whom he combated, and what happened to him afterward.  
YOu have heard what haste Amadis made after the damosel, whom the Knight led away perforce, beating and misusing her very cruelly: but he happened to meet with another Knight, who demanded of him why he ride so fast. What have you to do? answered Amadis, whether it be my pleasure to ride fast or soft, In good faith? said the Knight, I speak it as one willing to help you, if you be offered wrong by any, that you may go in better assurance if you be afraid. Truly you may spare this labour, replied Amadis, for at this time I have no need of your help. When the other heard this answer, he imagined that Amadis mocked him, which made him come and lay hold on the bridle of his horse, saying. By God Sir, you shall answer my demand, otherwise, I mean to break your pate. I know not what thou canst do, quoth Amadis, but I will dispatch myself of thee by combat, and that way resolve thee in thy request: for rash minds must have rough medicines, and such as seek to know more than they need, often feel more than they would. So fetching their career, they encountered together, the Knight shiviring his Lance in pieces: but Amadis sent both horse and man to the ground, and with such violence, as the Knight's leg was broken in the fall, and Amadis had leisure to follow his journey: this was the same man you heard of before, that made galaor's Squire go look his masters horse.  
But now to proceed with Amadis, who tarried not to help the Knight up again, such speed made he after his intent, as at length he over-took him that led away the damosel, and coming near him, thus spoke. Forbear Sir I pray ye, and wrong the Lady no more. What wrong have I done her? answered the Knight. The most shamefullest, said Amadis, could be devised. What? quoth the Knight, you would then chastise me? Sir no, answered Amadis, but advise ye by reason for your own benefit. I hear ye well enough, said the Knight, but you may return as wise as you came. Is it true? quoth Amadis, then stepping to the Squire that led the Damoselles palfrey, he stearnely said. Villain let the woman alone, or thou diest the death. The Squire being afraid, fled away, which the Knight seeing, and being very angry thereat, he came to Amadis with these words. Believe me Sir, you command very audaciously: but if I know not how to charm such bravers, let Armour never come on my back again. So placing their Lances in their rests, they brak their staves in the encounter: but the Knight was cast headlong out of his saddle, and before he could recover himself again, Amadis stood ready with his sword to take his life, which he perceiving, and that he must be forced to beg his pardon, thus spoke. Gentle Sir take pity on me, and look what offence I have committed by any hard dealing, shall be amended by better usage. Swear then, said Amadis, never to wrong Lady or damosel hereafter against her will. With all my heart, replied the Knight, and as Amadis was coming to receive his oath, the villain thrust his sword into the Prince's horse belly, which made him presently fall down dead, and Amadis underneath in very great danger: so that before he could get up again, the Knight delivered him many cruel strokes, saying. By God Sir, now shall I dearly teach ye, how you enterprise another time to correct your better. At length Amadis recovered footing, and gave his enemy such a blow through the sight of his Helmet, as cut the one side of his face clean away: wherewith he was so astonied, that he fell to the ground, when Amadis setting his foot on him, quickly separated his head from his shoulders. The night enduring all this while, yet comfortably lightened by fair Cynthia, whereby the damosel saw the death of her adversary, which made her fall at the Prince's feet with these words. Alas worthy Knight, the God of heaven (not I) must requite this honourable kindness, for without your help, much better had death been to me then life: yet let me request this further courtesy, no more but your company to a Castle not far hence, where I shallbe in safety to mine own desire, and to travail alone thither will be dangerous for me. Nor shall you fair damosel, said Amadis, be in such fear, for I will not leave ye till you be where you would: so he willed Gandalin to bring him the knight's horse, and to help the damosel up on her palfrey, afterward they road as she conducted them. Of many matters they conferred by the way, she acquainting him with the whole history of the dead Knight, whose death you have heard how Galaor revenged. And coming into a meadow by a rivers side, they alighted from their horses, betaking themselves to sleep a little, because it was night, she lying on a mantle that Gandalin spread for her, and Amadis leaning on his helmet as his best pillow. But as they all thus slept, it chanced a Knight came riding by who saw them, and without making any noise, with the great end of his Lance, he jogged the damosel till she awaked. When she beheld him on horsseback, thinking it was Amadis that conducted her, she started up as one half a sleep, demanding if it pleased him to depart. Yea marry, quoth the Knight, and taking her by the hand mounted her up behind him: Why do you so? said the damosel, your Squire might help me to mine own horse, without troubling you in this manner. It were needless, answered the Knight, for seeing a booty is so well offered, I mean to have the carriage of it myself. These words made the damosel suspect herself deceived, and looking back, she beheld where Amadis lay still fast a sleep, wherefore she cried out to him so loud as she could. Ah help me Sir, quoth she, for here is one I know not will forcibly carry me away. When the Knight heard what a noise she made, he gave the spurs to his horse, riding away in a main gallop: but Amadis awaking and not seeing the damosel, was greatly displeased, hastily calling Gandalin to bring him his horse, afterward he posted the same way the Knight had taken. At length he got a sight of them, marking their entrance into a thicket of trees, where he mistook his way in such sort, as he knew not which side of the wood to take: when (though he was one of the most patient men in the world) he conceived this grief marvelous unkindly, saying to himself. Now may the damosel well report, that I have done her as much shame as secure: for if I defended her from one forcer, by my slothfulness I have left her in the power of one worse than he.  
Thus riding in and out among the brambles, offering much injury to his horse, at length he heard the winding of a horn, which made him follow the sound thereof, imagining the Knight did it for his pleasure. Soon after he espied a strong Castle on the top of a mountain and approaching near, perceived it was begirt with a high wall, whereon were many great Towers, and the gate made sure with mighty bars. As he was seeking some place of entrance, the watch descrying him, said. What man at so late an hour cometh armed so near? I am a strange Knight, answered Amadis. What would you have? said the watch. I seek for one, quoth Amadis, who not long since took a damosel from me. We saw none such, answered the watch. hereupon Amadis passed further, and discerned a little door open, and the damosel with the Knight to enter thereat on foot, because they could not come near it on horsseback: then Amadis calling to the Knight, thus spoke. Stay a while I pray you Sir, and tell me before you shut the gate, if you be the man that took a damosel from me? If I took her from you, answered the Knight, you had the less care of her keeping. And the less manhood, said Amadis, was in you, to steal her from me while I slept, being assured you could no otherwise have carried her from me so lightly. My friend, quoth the Knight, I have her indeed, and of her own good will she came with me, without any manner of soliciting or forcing. In good faith, answered Amadis, if you show her me, and she affirm as much, I shall rest contented. It is not long to morning, said the Knight, and then I will let ye see her here, if you will enter upon the custom of the Castle? What is the custom? replied Amadis. You shallbe told it, quoth the Knight, and I think you will find it too hard for your enterprising. If I could presently agree thereto? said Amadis, might I now enter? Not as yet, answered the Knight: but if you tarry till day light, we shall behold what you can do. So going in, he clapped too the door, wherefore Amadis was contented to await the break of day, under a tuft of trees hard by the Castle, and when the Sun began to appear, he heard the gate open, which made him quickly mount on horsseback: then coming forward, he saw a Knight armed at all points, and under him a lusty courser, whereupon the Porter called Amadis, demanding if he would enter. Why have I tarried here else, answered Amadis, all this while? But first, quoth the Porter, you must understand our custom, to the end you may not say afterward that you were deceived. I therefore thus advise ye, how when you shall be entered here, you must enter combat with this Knight, and if he get the victory, you must swear to do the commandment of a Lady here within, or else be committed to a miserable prison. If he chance to be vanquished, it is nothing in respect, for you must be commanded to another gate, and there enter combat with two other, whom if your fortune likewise be so good as to overcome: you have then to deal with three other, they being right valiant and tried men at arms, and all these you must fight against under the first condition: but if you bear away the honour in each of these attempts, right shallbe done in whatsoever you demand. On these conditions, replied Amadis, I am well content to enter, and the rather because I would see the man, who took the damosel from me this night past. So soon as he was entered, the first Knight and he encountered together: but Amadis overthrew his enemy so furiously, as his right arm was broken in the fall, which made him glad to yield for safety of his life. At the second gate he found the other two ready tarrying for him, threatening him with prison, if he did not well defend himself: I must buy my liberty, quoth Amadis, with your dearest blood, keep it therefore from me so well as you can. Then covering themselves with their shields, he met one of them so directly, that he fell to the ground and his horse upon him, very sore shaken and bruised with his fall, then coming to the other with his sword drawn, he smote the helmet quite beside his head, when being loath to proceed any further with him, he said. Now trust me Knight, it is the greatest folly in the world to fight, thy head being bare. Care not you for that, answered the Knight, I will keep it as safe as you shall do yours. And I will try your cunning, quoth Amadis: then striking a full blow at him, which the Knight shifting his body aside to escape, lost his stirrups and fell beside his horse, when Amadis quickly stepping to him, got hold of him by the neck, saying. See Knight how well thou defendest thy head, art thou not well worthy to lose it for thy words? When the Knight saw what danger he was in, he fell on his knee, and thus spoke to the Prince. Ah worthy Sir, for God's sake mercy, and seeing you have so well advised me, never will I hereafter be so rash in folly, therefore I yield myself to your mercy.  
Amadis being thus pacified, took a fresh Lance and mounted on horssebacke again, riding now to the last gate, where he espied Ladies and Gentlewomen on the walls, who said to each other: If he pass the bridge in despite of our three gardants, he shall perform a most rare deed of chivalry? While thus they communed, the three Knights came forth to assail Amadis, the first of them using these words. Knight yield thyself, or swear to do the commandment of this Lady. These are but words, answered Amadis, from which I can defend myself well enough: I cannot put on the mind to yield myself or accomplish the Ladies will thou speakest off, because I know not what she is. hereupon a fierce combat began between the prince and then three, who showing themselves to be right hardy Knights, and Amadis full loath to receive the foil, made a long doubtful judgement of victory: till at length by many wounds and great loss of blood, the Knights were able to hold out no longer, flying into the Castle for safety of themselves, yet one of them fell down by the way, whom Amadis swore should die if he yielded not presently. Alas my Lord, quoth he, with all my heart I submit myself, and so ought all other to do that combat against you, considering your happy fortune since you came to this Castle. With these words he delivered his sword to the Prince, who gave it him again, and followed the other twain into the Palace, where he met divers Ladies and Damoselles, when the choice of them all in beauty thus spoke to him. Stay a while Sir Knight if you please, for already you have done so much, as you shall obtain what you demand. Lady, quoth Amadis, command them your champions to yield themselves vanquished. And what shall you be the better for that? said she. When I accepted the conditions of entrance here, answered Amadis, it was said, that I must either be killed, or vanquish him that I combated withal: otherwise I have not the right was promised. You misunderstood it, replied the Lady, for it was told ye, that if perforce you entered thus far, you should have reason in what you demanded: say now therefore what is your pleasure? I demand a damosel, quoth he, which a Knight took from me this last night past, while I slept by the rivers side not far hence, and hither he brought her against her will. I pray ye Sir, said the Lady, to sit down and rest ye: in mean while I will send for the Knight who shall answer ye. Then sat they down together, and she proceeded on this manner. I entreat ye Sir to resolus me, if you know a Knight that is named Amadis? Why ask ye Lady? quoth he. Because, replied she, all the guard you found in this Castle was appointed for him, and assure yourself if he entered here, he never should depart hence again, if first he denied not a promise that he made. What was it? answered Amadis. I will tell ye Sir, said she, on this condition, that with your utter-most endeavour you will cause him to acquit, it either by Arms or otherwise, by reason he hath not done it justly. In sooth Madame, quoth he, if Amadis hath promised any thing wherein he is to be touched, I will (if I can) cause him to discharge it. She who understood not to what end he thus spoke, answered as followeth. I heartily thank ye Sir, wherefore understand, that Amadis promised Angriote d' Estravaus, how he would procure his Ladies liking to him, and yet she never could love him in all her life: this is a matter against all right, seeing forced affection is no love, but dolour & misery, then according to your promise, you must labour to cause Amadis revoke this unreasonable offer. Now trust me Madame, replied the Prince, you say right well, and seeing you may not justly be denied, assure yourself I will endeavour to make him acquit you. These words procured many thanks from her, she not comprehending his meaning herein: for he hoped to accomplish his promise both to Angriote & her, without derogation either to one or other, as you hereafter shall understand. But Madame, said he, are you she whom Angriote loveth so? Yea truly, quoth she. I know him very well, answered Amadis, that he is one of the best Knights in the world, and me thinks there is no Lady or Gentlewoman so rich or fair, but might think herself happy and fortunate to have such a Knight as he. Nevertheless, what I say, is not to exempt myself from the promise I made ye, for I will perform it if I can, because he is a much better Knight than Amadis, albeit he made him that gentle offer.   

CHAP. XXVIII. ¶ How Amadis combated with the Knight, that did steal the damosel from him when he slept, and vanquished him.  
WHile thus they were devising together, there entered an other Knight of large proportion and strong, all armed except with his helmet and gauntlets, who thus spoke to Amadis. It is told me Sir Knight, that you demand a damosel which I brought hither yester night, & how I did it against her will: but assure yourself, she would more willingly go with me then stay with you, therefore you may be ashamed thus to quarrel, nor have I any reason to deliver her again to you. I would feign see her, answered Amadis. It must be then, said the Knight, whether I will or no: but if you will maintain that I have wronged her, and she ought not to be mine, I presently will approve the contrary on your person by combat. Thou canst not please me better, quoth Amadis, and in this cause will I stand not only against thee, but resolutely against all other: that by right she appertaineth not to thee, if willingly she gave not her consent. Let us see then, said the Knight, which of us shall have her. This man of whom we speak, was Uncle germane to Angriotes Lady, named 〈…〉 looving and honouring him above all her other 〈◊〉: for he was the best Knight of his race, wise and discreet, so that she was altogether governed by his counsel. A goodly horse being brought forth for him, he laced on his helmet, and stood provided to enter the combat: which Gro●●e●sa the Lady perceiving, she came to her Uncle with these words. Certes my Lord, it were better you should forbear this difference, because I would be sorry any harm should come to either of you, in respect you Uncle are the only man of the world whom I am most bound to love: and this Knight I have greatest hope in, for he hath promised so to deal with Amadis, as he shall acquit the offer made to Angriote. What Niece? answered Gasinan, think you that he or any his like, can dissuade the most gentle Knight on the earth from accomplishing his promise? I know not, quoth she, what you imagine of him, but I repute him one of the best in the world: otherwise he could not have entered here by strength of Arms as he did. Say you so? replied Gasinan, you praise him overmuch, for passing the defended gates, when men of such mean account had them in charge. I say not this, but that he may be a gentle Knight, yet hope I to take him forth a new lesson, and a better than he if he were here: in witness of my words, yourself shall presently be judge, seeing him vanquished, and myself peaceably possessed of the damosel we quarrel for. Herewith the Lady left them, and they giving the spurs to their horses, broke their Lances gallantly in the encounter, and with such fury met their bodies, that Gasinan was dismounted, having a shrewd fall against the ground: yet he arose quickly, and drawing his Sword, stood by a Marble pillar in the midst of the court, thinking Amadis could there little endamage him being on horseback, and he on foot. When Amadis saw how his enemy dallied with him, he waxed very angry, and striking fiercely at him, by mishap his Sword lighted short on the pillar, and so was broken in three pieces: now grew he into greater choler, and seeing in what danger he was, unprovided of a weapon to defend himself withal, he leapt from his horse so quickly as he could, when Gasinan thus spoke to him. Knight, thou seest thy death at hand, if thou grant not the damosel to be mine. Nor will I yield thereto, said Amadis, unless herself do first consent. Thou shalt see, quoth Gasinan, how dear this foolish humour will cost thee. With these words he delivered him many sharp strokes, but Amadis awarded them very cunningly, so that the most of them were bestowed in vain, rather wearying his enemy, then doing him any harm. And so long endured the combat, as the beholders were not a little amazed thereat, wundring that Gasinan got not the victory all the while, considering what advantage he had of the Prince: but Amadis concluded with himself (being thus extremely handled) to hazard rather a speedy conquest, than a linger shame, and therefore ran violently upon Gasinan, getting fast hold about his body so suddenly, as he had scant leisure to lift his arms for resistance, but was constrained to let fall his Sword and struggle with Amadis, who gripped him terribly, so strove they to overthrow each other. But Amadis threw him with such might against the Marble pillar, that he was not able to stir hand or foot, & afterward taking up Gasinans sword, broke the buckles of his helmet, then catching him by the head, he said. Knight, thou hast offered me great wrong since my Sword broke, but now shall I be revenged on thee: then made he a proffer to smite off his head, which Grovenesa seeing, cried: Ah gentle Knight, have pity on him and me together. With abundance of tears trickling down her cheeks, she came and fell at the feet of Amadis, showing the affection of her request, and her inward grief to behold her Uncle's death: all which Amadis well noting, feigned himself more willing to kill him then before, saying. If your suit were reasonable, I would consent thereto: but he hath so wronged me and without occasion, as I cannot be satisfied but with the loss of his head. Alas my Lord, quoth she, for God's sake demand some other satisfaction, for I will do whatsoever you please, to redeem his life. Lady, answered Amadis, there be but two things which may save his life: first the deliverance of the damosel again to me: secondly, that you swear to me as a loyal Lady, to meet me at the first open Court held by King Lisuart, and there to grant a boon I shall desire of you. Gasinan beholding the danger of his life, said to her: Fair Niece, suffer me not through your default to die, but take compassion on me, and promise the Knight faithfully what he shall demand: which she presently did, wherefore Amadis permitted him to arise, and said to the Lady. I assure ye Madame, the suit I must obtain of you, gain-sayeth nothing of my promise concerning Amadis: for I will accomplish it to my uttermost, see then no default be made on your behalf. In soothe my Lord, quoth she, I will perform my duty effectually, knowing well, such men ought 〈◊〉 be honoured for virtue, in whom so singular prowess is apparent: much less than need any doubt be made, of any thing prejudicial to my unstained report. Be bold thereof, said Amadis: then was the damosel sent for, and she being come, Amadis demanded if she would accompany him any further? Worthy Sir, answered the damosel, I will do what you please to command me, in respect I have been so painful to you, as while I live I am yours in all obedience. But were it to your liking, considering the affection Gasinan bears me, as he would rather hazard the combat, then deliver me, albeit by treachery he carried me away: I gladly could afford to stay with him. By heaven fair damosel, replied Gasinan, most true and sincere is my affection toward you, and as I request ye not to forsake me, so do I desire your good opinion. You have chosen (damosel) one of the best Knights in the world, said Amadis and seeing you like each other so well, with all my heart I leave ye together. They both thanked him very humbly, entreating he would rest himself there certain days: but he would return to his brother Galaor, whom he left under the tree by the dead Knight, by means whereof he excused his departure, and mounting on horsseback, commanded Gandalin to carry the broken pieces of his sword with him. By hap Gasinan overheard him, wherefore he presented him with his sword, which he accepted, and a Lance that Grovenesa gave him: then leaving the Castle, he took the way again toward the tree, where he hoped to find Galaor and Balays.   

CHAP. XXIX. ¶ How Balays behaved himself in his enterprise, pursuing the Knight that made Galaor lose his horse.  
BAlays of Carsanta offended, as you have heard, with the Knights injurious pranks to galaor's horse, followed him so fast as possible he could: but the other had gotten so far before, as Balays heard no tidings of him, nevertheless he road on till about midnight, when he heard a voice a long by a rivers side. And shaping his course thither, he found there five thieves well armed with corselets and hatchets, who villainously would force a damosel: one of them dragging her by the hair of the head in a strait way on the mountain, and the other beating her forward with great staves. Balays seeing them vilely abuse her, entered among them saying: Traitorous murdererers, dare you so boldly lay hold on a damosel? let her alone, else shall you die according to your deserts. Then running fiercely at one of them, his Lance passed quite through his body, so that he fell down dead without any more moving. Whereupon the other four would revenge their companions death, and altogether environed Balays with such sharp assaults, as one of them smote down his horse under him: yet B●lays dismayed nothing thereat, but being courageously resolved, quickly recovered footing, and drawing his sword, laid so fiercely about him, that another of them fell down headless at his feet. In brief, two more of them accompanied their fellows in like fortune, when the last seeing he could not prevent like doom, fell on his knees before Balays, saying. Good my Lord have compassion on me, for if I die in this wicked life I have so long time used, undoubtedly both body and soul will perrishe together. Since thou dost, answered Balays, so willingly acknowledge thy fault, thy life I give thee, to the end thy repentance hereafter may make amends for all: and faithfully he kept promise with Balays, for soon after he became a religious Hermit, spending the rest of his days in great devotion.  
But now returneth Balays to the damosel, who being not a little glad she was so happily delivered, gave him thanks for the succour she found in such necessity, and he requesting to know how she happened into this danger, she thus begun. Having occasion (Sir) to travail in these parts, in the narrow way on the mountain they stayed me, it being the common place for their thievish assaults: and after they had slain my servants, they brought me into this place, all of them swearing to force me one after another, but God and you have graciously delivered me. Her modest behaviour in speech and comely beauty, made Balays to wax somewhat enamoured, which made him thus to interrupt her. In sooth fair damosel, I perceive they have dealt with ye ungently, for they were very loath to part with ye: but seeing fortune hath allowed such a convenient meeting, even where we may lay a foundation of love, let me request this favourable kindness, that we may not lose so good an opportunity. I know not Sir, quoth she, how you are minded, but had they compelled me to their lascivious desires, both God and the world might hold me excused: contrariwise, if I should willingly grant you such an unhonourable request, what excuse might then serve either you or me? Hitherto you have shown yourself a well disposed Knight, let me entreat ye to accompany chivalry, with continence and virtue, as by duty you are bound. When Balays heard her answer so soberly, he repent that he had offered her such undecent words, saying. With reason (fair virgin) you have fully satisfied me, yet pardon me for attempting so bad a suit: in respect it is no less seemly for Knights to move Ladies with love, then for them modestly to deny as you have done. And albeit at the first we imagine it a great conquest, to obtain of them what we most desire: yet when wisely and discreetly they resist our inordinate appetites, keeping the thing (without which) they are worthy no praise: they be even of ourselves more reverenced and commended. This is the cause, quoth she, why I more esteem your succour to mine honour then my life, because the difference between them is far incomparable. Well, said Balays, what will you now I shall do for you? Let us leave these dead carcases, replied the damosel, and go where we may stay till day light. I like your council, answered Balays, if I had another horse, but being now destitute, I know not what to do. We will ride on my horse, said the the damosel, till we find other remedy: so he mounting up before the damosel, they road till they came to a pleasant meadow, where they rested themselves till Sun rising, and then they went to horsseback again. Now because Balays intended to seek the Knight, who caused galaor's horse to escape away from him, he asked the damosel what should become of her. My Lord, quoth she, not far hence is a house, whether when you have brought me, you may depart to what place you please.  
As thus they road communing together, he saw a Knight come toward him, carrying his leg on his horses neck, but drawing nearer, he put foot in stirrup, couching his Lance against Balays, and running at him, threw him and the damosel both from the horse, afterwards he used these speeches. In sooth Lady, I am sorry for your fall, but to amend the wrong I have done ye, I will bring ye-where you shall be contented, because he that hath the charge of you, is unworthy to have so fair a creature in his custody. Ere this had Balays recovered himself, and knowing him to be the Knight he sought for, he drew his sword, saying. By thee villain have I lost my horse, and my companion thou hast in like sort abused, now finding me unprovided, thou takest delight in offering me wrong: but both for him and my self will I be revenged on thee, else let me be thought unworthy of my order. What? quoth the Knight, art thou one of them that mocked me as I rid in the dark? I hope now I have put the mockery on thee. hereupon they presently fell to the combat, and many sharp blows were given on either side, till Balays at length fastening hold on his enemy, got him under foot, when renting the Helmet from his head, he took his life as ransom for his villainy: and breaking his sword in pieces, laid them by him, then mounting on his horse, and the damosel on her own, they took their way toward the tree where he left Galaor. But because their stomachs well served them to meat, they alighted at a little Lodge, where dwelled two women of austere and holy life, who bestowed on them such cheer as they had: the damosel acquainting them with all her mishap, and how Balays delivered her from the thieves, at what time they intended to dishonour her, having slain her servants, and she destitute of help, whereof the holy women were very glad, by reason those thieves did much harm in that country. After they had refreshed themselves, Balays and the damosel took their leave, and coming to the tree, met Amadis there newly returned from his enterprise: wherefore they concluded no more to sunder themselves, until they arrived at King Lisuartes Court. By this time the night drew on apace, whereupon the damosel earnestly entreated them, to lodge that night at her Fathers which was not far off: they liking well of her friendly offer, went with her, being there entertained and used very honourably. Early in the morning arming themselves, they thanked their gentle host & his daughter, framing their course toward Windsor, but by the way you must note, how Balays (according to his promise) presented the horse to Galaor which he won from the Knight, and he refused it because he had another, so that Balays saved his oath thereby.   

CHAP. XXX. ¶ How King Lisuart held open Court most royally, and of that which happened in the mean time.  
I Have heretofore declared, the joy and content of the good King Lisuart, for the news brought by the Dwarf, concerning the health of Amadis and Galaor: but the more to show his princely mind, he concluded at their coming to keep a most royal and magnificent Court, as all his ancestors in great Britain never did the like. Which Oliuas perceiving, who came (as you have heard) to make his complaint on the wrong done him by the Duke of Bristoya, in putting to death traitorously his Cousin germane: fell on his knee again before the King, desiring he might have justice in the cause. When the King had considered thereon with them of his blood, as also divers other Knights and ancient Gentlemen: he decreed that within one month (all excuses set apart) the Duke should come in person to answer Oliuas, and if with two Knights more beside himself he would justify his cause, Oliuas should likewise prepare two other Knights. Warning hereof was presently sent to the Duke, and open Proclamation made the same day: that all Gentlemen following Arms, should be ready at the City of London, on the day of our Lady following in September. Like summons was sent abroad by the Queen, to advertise the Ladies and Gentlewomen of the country, by which means great resort came to the Court, where all kind of pastimes and sports were invented: without respect of fortune's malice any way, who commonly in great assembly of states, when least they think of her variable change, often telleth them, that men purpose, but she will dispose. All this royal company being in joy and pleasure, a damosel strangely attired entered the Palace, and a Gentleman that bore her company, demanding where the King was: whereof being resolved by his Majesty himself, the damosel thus spoke. In sooth (my Lord) well do you seem a King by your port and countenance, yet may it be doubted what your heart is. damosel, quoth the King, you must judge of what you see, and hereafter know the rest when you have occasion to prove. Me thinks my Lord, answered the Damsel, you speak according to the magnanimity of your mind, and even as I myself do desire: remember therefore what you have spoken before so many great persons, for seeing you make me such a liberal offer, I hope one day to try the matter I doubted. Nevertheless, I will defer it till the feast of September, because I hear you will then keep Court at London, where must be assembled many valiant men, who shall know by the promise you have made me, how worthy you are to govern such a noble Realm, and how highly Chivalry is honoured by you. damosel, said the King, so much as effects may better my words, so much the more will it glad me, to see good store of hardy Knights there present. My Lord, quoth she, if effects answer your words, I shall have great reason to be contented. So took she leave of him, returning the same way she came, where-at every one was much abashed, and displeased with the King's rash promise, not knowing any reason for it: and now they began to misdoubt, that the enterprise of this woman would bring the King's person into some danger. But his heart was so addicted to magnanimity, as (whatsoever happened) he would not be reproved with cowardice: and so dearly did his subjects love him, that they rather desired a thousand deaths, then to see him suffer any mishap or injury. Whereupon the Lords and Barons persuaded him, (greatly fearing some threatened inconvenience) to alter the promise he had so lightly made: showing it was not beseeming his Majesty, to deal with affairs of Knights and Gentlemen, he being placed in authority over them.  
While they stood on these terms, there entered three Knights, two of them being very well armed, and the third having on no Armour at all, for he was a man of ancient years, as seemed by his white head: yet in his countenance appeared a more cheerful colour, then commonly hath been noted in a man of his age, who likewise was of tall and comely stature. This Knight carried in his arms a very costly coffer, and demanding for the King, the Gentlemen showed where he sat, making him way to his Majesty, before whom he fell on his knees, thus speaking. God bless so good a Prince as is King Lisuart, for within these few days he hath made the most worthy promise, that ever King did, if he intent to keep it. Believe me Knight, answered the King, I never promised aught, but it was in my power, and therefore the easier to be performed: but I would fain know your meaning herein. I understand Sir, quoth the Knight, that you intent to maintain chivalry in the very highest honour, a matter wherein (now adays) few Prince's delight, therefore are you to be commended above all other. Herein you were told truth, said the King, and you may be well assured, that I will do my uttermost to advance the cause of virtue, while I live. Long may you continue in this mind, replied the Knight, and because I have likewise heard, how you have summoned the Princes and Lords of your Country, to be ready at your Court the next feast of September: I have brought you here a thing with me, which such a King as you are ought most royally to receive. Then opening the coffer, he took forth a Crown of gold, so sumptuously embellished with oriental Pearls and precious Stones, as never was seen a more costlier jewel: every one being of the mind, that it was to empale the head of some especial mighty Lord.  
When the King had long and earnestly beheld it, he was very desirous to have it at what price soever, which the Knight perceiving, said. This Crown my Lord is of such workmanship, as no jeweller in the world can make the like, and beside the unvaluable riches thereof, it hath a virtue highly to be esteemed: for the King that keepeth it in his power, shall increase in all felicity and honour. So will it happen to the King who must enjoy it while he liveth, and long time have I kept it, no King but you that ever saw it: but if you like it so well, I will make ye a present thereof, provided, you help to save my head, which I am in some danger to lose. All this while was the Queen in place, earnestly wishing that the King her husband might have it, whereupon she said to the King. methinks (my Lord) it would full well become your Majesty, if you may have it at so easy a rate as he demandeth. Madame quoth the Knight, I have a better thing for you if you please to buy it, it is this mantle, the richest and fairest that ever was seen: for beside the precious stones wherewith it is beautified, it is embroidered with all sorts of beasts and birds, which nature hath given life to. On my faith, answered the Queen, it is a most rare and curious piece of work, not wrought (as I think) by human capacity. You say true, Madame, replied the Knight, for the like hereof is not to be found, yet may not the riches compare with the property and great virtue of this mantle, which is such, as it rather belongeth to married Ladies then any other: because she that weareth it, shall never be offended with her husband. A virtue of chief regard, answered the Queen, if it have any such indeed? I have told ye true Madame, quoth the Knight, if you will buy it, you may prove. Now grew she marvelous desirous of it, whatsoever price should be paid for it, especially to conserve peace and love between the King and her, wherefore she said to the Knight: Say Sir, how do you estimate this Mantle and the Crown? My Lord, quoth he, and you good Madame, I beseech you to understand my fortune. I am but lately escaped the hands of him, who long time kept me prisoner on a strange condition, which is no little cause of grief to me, for I am out of all hope to find remedy while I live: and because I know not well the value of these jewels, I will leave them in your custody, until the day you hold open Court at London, where you shall deliver them again to me, or give so much for them as I then demand. In mean while, you may make trial of them if you please, for having experimented what I have said, you may the more willingly pay well for them. Now trust me, said the King, seeing you repose such confidence in me, assure yourself to have whatsoever you request, or else they shallbe restored again. It sufficeth, quoth the Knight, then turning to the Lords, he thus proceeded. Worthy Lords, you have all heard what the King hath promised me, that he will restore the Mantle and the Crown, which I leave in your presence, or give me whatsoever I shall demand. So much his Majesty hath said, replied the Lords, and we are witnesses thereof. Adieu then, answered the ancient Knight, for perfocre I must return to the most cruel prison, that ever poor Knight was enclosed in. But here you must note, how during the time of this conference, the two armed Knights which conducted the old man, was still in presence, the one of them having the beaver of his Helmet open, and seemed a young man, the other held down his head as loath to be known, being of so tall and mighty stature, as no Knight in the kings Court might be equalled with him. So departed they again all three together, leaving the Mantle and the Crown in the kings custody.   

CHAP. XXXI. ¶ How Amadis, Galaor, and Balays arrived at the Court of King Lisuart, and what happened to them afterward.  
AMadis, Galaor and Balays, being all happily met together, road on without any occasion to trouble them, until they came to the Court of King Lisuart, where they were welcomed with exceeding joy, because Galaor was never there before, nor known but by renown of his famous chivalry. Beside, each one rejoiced to see Amadis, who by the false report of Arcalaus was thought to be dead: and graciously did the King entertain them all, conducting them to a chamber where they were unarmed, blaming the villainous invention of Arcalaus. and the damosel that caused their combat together, practising the death of two so noble Princes, who were but even now in the prime and flower of their youth. Right soon did the King advertise the Queen of their arrival, when accompanied with Agraies, Galuanes and King Arban, he went with them among the Ladies: but Amadis casting his eye on Oriana, and she on him, I leave their joyful passions to your judgement, remembering that when long absent lovers meet, looks, sighs and tears are familiarly intercoursed, being the only means to content each others heart. Yet Amadis thought it not best to stand still thus musing, lest every eye should grow cunning in conjecturing the cause: which to avoid, he fell on his knee before the Queen, saying. Madame, according to your charge at my departure from the Court, I have brought this Knight, whom I present as only yours. I thank ye Sir Amadis, quoth the Queen, both he and you are welcome to our presence. In good faith Madame, said the King, you do me wrong if you take them both: Amadis already is yours, me thinks you should be content with him, and leave Lord Galaor for me. You ask no small matter, answered the Queen, but if he be so pleased, I am not against it, albeit such a present was never given in great Britain: notwithstanding, seeing you are the best King that ever reigned here, so good a Knight is well bestowed on you. But what say you Lord Galaor? the King is desirous to have you, will ye then be his? Madame, quoth Galaor, me thinks that any thing so great a Prince demandeth, should be granted if it were possible: here am I to obey you in every respect, so please my Lord and brother to like thereof, because he hath greatest authority over me. It contents me very well, said the Queen, that you should do as your brother commandeth, for through him shall I have title in you, by reason he is mine. I am yours indeed Madame, answered Amadis, and brother you must be my fellow servant to the Queen. With all my heart, replied Galaor, I am content, and seeing you have given me to her service, for ever I shall remain at her disposition. I thank you Sir, quoth the Queen, now may I boldly give you to the King, for I see he would be glad of so good a friend: then stepping to the King, she said. My Lord, you are desirous of this Knight, I give him you, on this condition, that you love and entreat him according to his deserts, which may not be valued at any mean rate. Believe me Madame, answered the King, I take this gift most kindly at your hand, assuring you, he shall soon perceive how I love and esteem him: nor can I be so affectionate to him, as he hath noble virtues whereby to induce me, which none can value or compare withal. But if Amadis durst have spoken, he gladly would have maintained the contrary, for he persuaded himself, that he loved his Oriana beyond his brother's desert, or any other whatsoever. So remained Galaor in the kings service, from which he could not be separated, for any quarrel concerning Amadis, as we shall have occasion to declare hereafter.  
All this while Oriana, Mabila, and Olivia, had withdrawn themselves from the other Ladies, likewise Agraies and Amadis were talking together, when Galaor was thus graciously entertained by the King and Queen: wherefore Mabila called her brother, saying. I pray ye cause the Knight to come hither that standeth with you conferring, because we are desirous to see him. Agraies returned where he left Amadis, who dissembled as if he thought not on the Ladies, till the Prince thus spoke: My Lord, these Gentlewomen would fain speak with you, and desire you to come a little more near them: which he presently did. But Mabila being wise and discreet, not ignorant what medicines should be applied to passionate minds: after they all three had saluted them, Mabila took Amadis by the hand, desiring him to sit between Oriana and her, leaving Agraies to court his Olivia: they being set, she merrily thus began. Although I am now among those four friends, whom I have most cause to love and regard: yet have I such present bus●nes elsewhere, as I must of necessity leave you awhile. Thus devised she to bring the lovers together, and by a pretty wile gave them opportunity, to content their thoughts with secret communication. Now beginneth Amadis to confer with his Lady, and thinking to declare the great affection, which under good hope gave him life and essence: extreme love took from him the facility of speech, yet his eyes not unmindful of their office, supplied the defect of the tongue, delivering testimony to their divine object, how far the sad and languishing heart was transported by ease and pleasure. Which Oriana perceiving, she secretly took his hand under her mantle, & wring him by the fingers sighing thus spoke. My Lord and friend, what dolour & grief did the traitor procure in me, who brought hither tidings of your death? never was poor maiden in greater peril, and not without cause: for never did woman sustain such a loss, as I should have done in losing you. And as I am better loved then any other, so hath my fortune graciously favoured me, that it should be by him who is of higher desert than any other. herewith Amadis cast down his looks, as bashful to hear himself so praised, by her to whom all commendation was due: and feeling his spirits altered, strove to make answer, but the words died in his mouth, which caused Oriana thus to proceed. How can it be otherwise my Lord, but I must needs love you above all other, when they that never saw you, do highly love, honour and esteem you? and I being she whom you affect most dearly, have I not great reason to love you better than myself? On my faith Madame, answered Amadis, your sweet and gentle words, are sufficient to make me die a thousand deaths, & as many times to revive me again: but how? I pray you at this time only to excuse my extremity with pity, enduring worse than death by loving you too vehemently: for if I had died as Arcalaus reported, even than had begun my rest and quiet, if I had not known you before. And albeit the hour of your acquaintance is my entire felicity, yet am I assaulted with such violent passions, as my heart would altogether consume in grief, without the pleasure it receiveth in doing you service, and the good it sustaineth by your remembrance of me. But necessity constraineth me, to crave the mercy as yet undeserved, by such entreatance as no desert may value, only to increase my ability in serving you, which if you grant me not, a sudden and cruel death will take hold on me. These words were accompanied with such abundance of tears, as was no small grief to her to behold. Alas my Lord, quoth she, forbear these often repetitions of your death, the thought thereof is insupportable to me, for should you die, I were unable to live one hour after: considering all the pleasure I have in this world, is in the joy of your health and welfare. Nor can I but be assured of your words, by reason mine own case is sufficient therein, being copartner with you in every torment: but if yours seem more violent, this is the reason, my will being equal with yours, wanteth the strength you have in suffering, and cannot effect the desire of our hearts, which urgeth love and grief more in you then me, albeit my share is not one jot the less. But this I promise you on my faith, if fortune or our own endeavour, can compass no mean to yield us content, myself will search some way whatsoever happen, be it hate of father, mother, kindred, and friends: for we may not thus procrastinate our joy, and groan under the weighty burden of desire, the flame whereof climbeth so high, as the martyrdom of our hearts may easily be discovered. No doubt these words were pleasing to Amadis, and gave such cheerful life to his hope, that he was ravished with inward conceit thereof: when she seeing him mute, trodden upon his foot, saying. Discomfort not yourself my Lord, for I will not fail what I have promised, nor shall you departed till you perceive it: and shortly will the King hold open Court, when both he and the Queen must depend on your assistance, knowing well that your presence shall honour the company.  
As they would have continued in longer talk, the Queen called Amadis, causing him to sit down by Galaor, for the King was gone to his chamber. Then began the Ladies to censure on the brethren, but they resembled each other so like, as little difference could be discerned between them: every one being of the opinion, that these twain were the most perfect among all Knights, both in beauty, nobleness, bounty, and good grace: but Galaor was somewhat whiter in complexion, and Amadis of bigger bone, his locks more crisp & fair, and having a little more red in his face then Galaor had. Soon after, the Queen willed Galaor to go see her daughter and the other Ladies, when he regarding the excellent beauty of Oriana, imagined such an other was not to be found in the world, and by her often sighing with alteration of colour, he suspected her to be the only cause, that his brother liked so well to stay in King Lisuarts Court. Right courteously was he welcomed among the Ladies, and divers familiar speéeches passed between them: till the King being set to meat, sent for Amadis and Galaor to bear him company, as also Agraies and his Uncle Galuanes.   

CHAP. XXXII. ¶ How King Lisuart departed from Windesore to the good City of London, there to hold open and royal Court.  
IN the beginning of this book it hath been declared, how the divine bounty calling Lisuart to the Realm of great Britain, soon after, of a disinherited Prince, made him the peaceable King of such a Monarchy, by the death of his elder brother Falangris, who died without any heir of his body begotten. Likewise how he was reputed such a great Lord through the world, as many Knights came from strange Countries to serve him, not thinking themselves happy, except they might be named Knights of his Court. But within a while after, whether this fortunate King forgot the author of his good, or else it happened by divine permission: this happy Realm fell into persecution, and the illustrious state of King Lisuart was troubled and obscured, that all men might know: how he only is Lord and King of all living creatures, who exalteth and abaseth when him pleaseth, according as you shall here understand. For King Lisuart having concluded, to hold the most royal and stately Court, that ever King did in the Realm of great Britain, commanded that on the fift day following, all the Lords of his Kingdom should appear personally at London, there to determine on matters of chivalry, which he intended to maintain with all honour might be devised. But in the self-same place, where he thought the greater part of the world should yield him obeisance, began the first mutabilities of Fortune, bringing his state and person into danger of utter ruin, according as you shall understand at large.  
King Lisuart departing with all his train from Windsor, to keep his Court at the famous City of London, it was wonderful to behold the Lords, Ladies, and Gentlewomen that gave their attendance, especially so many young Gentlemen being there present: some to regard the magnificence of the Court, other to do service to their lovely mistresses, and nothing now generally minded but pastime and pleasure. The King likewise (for greater majesty of his Court) ordained that none of this assembly should lodge in the City, but to erect their Pavilions in the fields and meadows, along the banks that hemmed in the fair River of Themes, lest the extream● heat might be hurtful to them: all which being done according to appointment, the fields seemed as a most royal Camp, or as if the greater part of the world were there assembled. But because the King arrived there two or three days before the feast, he went to his palace, accompanied only with his Queen, Amadis, Galaor, Agraies, Don Galuanes, and certain other his most favoured: the rest kept themselves in their Tents, according as the Harbingers had in quarters limited them. With sundry sorts of pastimes was the King entertained, which continued till Fortune (envying his felicity) changed them into grief and tears: by the means of a Lord, no subject to the King, but his nearer neighbour than friend, named Barsinan, a man opulent in riches, and endued with few virtues, as may be gathered by the matter ensuing.  
This Barsinan was Lord of a country, called Sansuegua, and very familiar with Arcalaus the enchanter, who not long before came to him, and conferred with him in this manner. My Lord, quoth he, the great desire I have to do you service, hath made me invent the mean (if you like thereof) to deliver in short time the Realm of great Britain quietly into your hands, without much hazarding your person, or any great expense. When Barsinan, (who was a very ambitious man) heard the words of Arcalaus, who promised to make him King if he would: he thus replied. In good faith my dear friend Arcalaus, if thou canst perform the thing thou vauntest of, no fear shall hinder me to hazard my person, much less will I reckon of expense, if I see any likelihood in the compass. It is a thing, said Arcalaus, very easy to be done, and presently shall you understand by what means: provided that you swear to me, after you are seated in the regiment, to make me superintendent and chief master of your household. That will I, answered Barsinan, with any thing else thou shalt desire. Mark then the platform, quoth Arcalaus. You know how King Lisuart hath openly published, this feast of September to hold open Court, whether you must go well accompanied with Knights, then shall I order the matter in such sort, that I will carry away the King prisoner, no man alive being able to secure him: in like manner will I carry thence his daughter, whom you shall take to wife, and afterward will I send ye the kings head. Thus in respect the Princess is right heir to the crown, and you enjoying her in marriage, being well accompanied with Knights as I told ye: easily may you make seizure on the Realm, nor shall you find any to speak against it. In sooth, answered Barsinan, if such an enterprise might sort to effect, I would make thee more rich and mighty then ever were any of thy lineage, as also the chief commander in my house. It sufficeth said Arcalaus, yourself shall soon perceive, that seldom I enterprise any thing, but it comes to pass: then fail not to be present in the assembly at London. So came the traitor Barsinan to king Lisuart, feigning his intent to do him honour, wherefore the King sent many of his Knights, entertaining him as a most noble friend, appointing his lodging and all things else necessary for him, and being with the King in his Palace, he entered into these speeches. My Lord, understanding what royal magnificence you mean to keep in your Court, as also the good Knights and brave men were here to be seen, this day I intended to honour you with my person: not as your vassal or subject, holding my Country of God and by the sword, but as your good neighbour, and friend if you please. Trust me, quoth the King, you do me very great pleasure and honour, and I thank you for this gentle pains, that you would be seen in so good company: assuring you Lord Barsinan and my friend, this courtesy shall be remembered in what I may, for I make very especial account of you. Your Majesty dealeth very kindly with me, replied Barsinan, and I protest on my faith, to be ready in counciling your affairs for the best, according as I have a long time desired. See how the traitor lied in every word, but the good King misdoubting nothing, requited his offer with many thanks, and to do him the greater honour, appointed his lodging in his own Palace, himself and his Queen going forth of the City with their Tents and pavilions, imagining he could not do too much for the traitor. And first he acquainted him with his whole enterprise, and wherefore he caused this great assembly, declaring the means and Surnames of the best commended Knights, their haughty prowess and resolutions, among whom he forgot not Amadis and Galaor, whose hardiness was impossible to be equalled, they two being accomplished with all the virtues required in chivalry. When the King was withdrawn to his Tents, and Barsinan to the Palace, he began to consider on the strength of his Majesty, as also the love and obeisance so many great Princes showed him: which made him unable to enjoy any rest, and oftentimes he repent his foolish enterprise, seeing how hard it would prove in execution. Now he minded to alter his determination, when suddenly another opinion entered his brain, so that wavering up & down in his thoughts, he could not resolve on any certainty. On the next morning he came to the King, who was now clothed in his royal ornaments, because it was the first day of open Court: and be commanded one to go to the Queen, willing her to send him the Crown he had of the Knight, and she to cloth herself in the sumptuous mantle. Hereupon she presently sent for the coffer, and opening it, found nothing therein, whereat she was greatly amazed, considering she trusted no body with the key thereof, but her own self, and evermore carried it about her. But knowing not how to remedy this mishap, she acquainted the King therewith, who in great displeasure came to her, saying. I marvel Madame you have kept so badly, the jewel which would have so greatly honoured this time, considering under what condition it was left with us. On my faith my Lord, quoth she, I know not what to say, I found the coffer fast locked, and none but myself hath kept the key of it. But in a dream this last night, me thought a damosel willed me to show it her, which I did: afterward she demanded the key, and I gave it her, when opening the coffer, she took forth the mantle and the Crown, locking it again, and laying the key where I took it. This done, she put the mantle about her, and the Crown on her head, they beseeming her so well, as I received great pleasure in beholding her, and thus she spoke. That herself, or she from whom she came, before five days, should rule in the country of a mighty King, who at this time laboured to defend it, and to conquer it from other. Hereupon I demanded what she was, and she answered: You shall know at the time I have spoken of. So she vanished from me with the Crown and the mantle: but on my faith I know not if this vision came to me sleeping, or whether it be of truth. The King was now in greater marvel than before, willing her to dissemble the matter, and not to reveal it to any body: then taking her by the hand, they left the chamber, coming among the Knights and Ladies, in the place appointed for the ceremonies of the day, where sitting down in two chairs of state the King called his Knights about him, & the Queen her Ladies, with whom she communed. Now had his Majesty given order, that nearest his person should be Amadis, Galaor, Agraies and Don Galuanes, and at his back King Arban of Norgalles well armed, holding his Sword ready drawn, and two hundred Knights for his guard, then by a Herald he commanded silence. But as the King began to speak, there entered a most beautiful Lady very richly attired, and with her twelve other Damosels in like bravery: For in those days, the great Lords and Ladies were wont to bring their people to such assemblies, clothed according to their own persons, without any difference at all between them: this fair Lady addressed her speeches to the King, delivering them in form following. My Lord, most humbly I beseech ye to grant me audience, and give me reason in a matter of difference, which I have against the Knight that standeth by your Majesty, meaning Amadis. Long time have I been requested by Angriote d' Estravaus to be his Wife, who I am assured is in this royal presence: hereto she added how every thing happened, the cause why he kept the vale of the Pines, & how Amadis travailing that way, made him perforce to abandon Arms. Nevertheless, quoth she, they departed friends, and Amadis solemnly promised Angriote, that he should enjoy me as his Wife: whereof when I attained knowledge, I withdrew myself to a Castle of mine, where I kept such a strong guard and custom, as it was thought impossible for any strange Knight to enter there without licence: but that Knight coming thither, vanquished my gardants, and hath utterly abolished the drift I intended. Yet afterward of his own good will he promised me, to cause Amadis recall his offer to Angriote: then chanced an unhappy combat between him and this Knight mine Uncle, who being at the latest extremity of his life, at my request he was spared, on this condition: that on the first day your Majesty held open Court, I should here present myself, to grant a request he must demand of me. To satisfy my promise I am come hither, and desire to know what he will command me: at which words Amadis stepped forward, saying. My Lord, the Lady hath told ye nothing but truth, concerning the several promises at the combats: therefore am I ready here to accomplish, that Amadis shall call back his word to Angriote, provided, she perform her own promise. On my conscience, quoth she, if you effect what you have said, you pleasure me more than you can imagine: and to let you know I am ready to fulfil my offer, demand what you please, for if it be in my power you shall prevail. I request nothing else, answered Amadis, but that you would accept Angriote as your husband, he loving you so dearly as he doth. Out alas, cried the Lady, what manner of demand is this? I wish Madame, said Amadis, that you would marry with such a one, as is well worthy to have so fair a Lady. In sooth Knight, quoth she, this is not according to the promise you made me. I promised nothing, replied Amadis, but I will perform it: for if I stand bound to you, to cause Amadis discharge his word to Angriote, herein I accomplish it. I am Amadis, and I revoke the promise I made him, wherein you must needs confess yourself satisfied: he gladly would enjoy you as his Wife, and I join with him in the same request, thus stand I free discharged to you both. May it be possible? quoth she, that you are the man so highly renowned? Credit me Lady, answered the King, this is Amadis. Ah wretch that I am, said she, now do I well perceive, that art nor cunning can prevent what God hath appointed, for I have done my uttermost to escape Angriote, not only for the evil I wish him, disdaining his good and virtuous deserts: but carrying this resolution, that keeping myself chaste and single, I would not bring my liberty into subjection: and now when I thought to be furthest from him, I am come nearer than ever I intended. Lady, quoth the King, you have great occasion to rejoice, for you being fair and rich, he is a young and brave disposed Knight: as you are rich in goods and possessions, even so is he in bounty and virtue, not only in deeds of Arms, but in all other good qualities beseeming a Knight, therefore your marriage together is very requisite, and I think all in this presence are of mine opinion: hereupon, she stepped to the Queen, saying. Madame, you are esteemed one of the most virtuous Princesses in the world, most humbly I desire your council what I shall do.  
Fair friend, answered the Queen, according to the reputation Angriote hath gotten among the good, he well deserveth, not only to be abundant in riches, but to be loved of any Lady he shall choose.  
Why Lady? said Amadis, think not that by accident or affection my promise was made to Angriote, for had he compelled me to one of these twain, then might you well have condemned me of folly: but making trial of his valour and hardiness, yea, to mine own cost I dare assure ye, and knowing likewise his earnest love to you: me thinks the justice of the cause commands, that not only myself, but all such as are acquainted with him, aught to labour in seeking remedy for you both: in him, the extreme passions he endureth through your love, in you, by making his restless griefs known to you.  
Now trust me Sir, quoth she, such praise have I heard of your usage to every one, as I imagine you would not say (before such an assembly) otherwise then truth: wherefore following your council, as also the pleasure of the King and Queen, I will forget my former stubborn opinion, and am ready to accomplish what you shall command me. Then Amadis taking her by the hand, called Angriote, and presenting him his love, said: Sir Angriote, I promised to do my uttermost in this matter, say now, is this the Lady you would have? Even she, quoth Angriote, is the life and essence of my soul, and I am devoted to none but her. Then here I give her you, replied Amadis, on this condition, that you shall be forthwith married together, and continue in honourable love to her as she deserveth. I thank you my Lord, quoth he, with all my heart, and will observe your gentle commandment. Presently the King called for the Bishop of Saleme, wha● conducted them to the Church, where they were espoused in the presence of many great Lords. Afterward they returned to the City, and there the wedding was solemnized with great joy and Triumphs: wherefore we may well say, that not men, but God appointeth marriage, who perceived the honest and continent love, which Angriote evermore bare to this self-willed Lady. For albeit he had her in his custody, never did he mean dishonourably against her, but by virtuous cogitations bridled unlawful desire: only to express how entirely he loved her, and by obeying her severe charge, lost his life welnéere when he combated with Amadis.   

CHAP. XXXIII. ¶ How King Lisuart would have the advise of his Princes and Lords, as concerning his former determination, for the high exalting and entertaining of Chivalry.  
AFter the end of this marriage, which by diversity of opinions caused much talk, as commonly it happeneth in such cases: the King commanded silence again by his Herald, when every one being attentive to hear what he would say, he thus began. My friends, no one of you is ignorant of the heavenly favour toward me, by appointing me the greatest earthly Lord, that liveth this day in all the Isles of the Ocean: wherefore I think it convenient, that as we in this country are the chief, so should we be second to no other prince, in rendering immortal thanks by good & virtuous works, whereon we are now minded to determine. In this respect I entreat and command, albeit Kings are the heads of their Monarchies, and you the members: that you would altogether take advise, and give me council even from your consciences, what you think most expedient for me to do, as well for the benefit of my Subjects, as also for our estate. And this I assure ye, I am fully minded to believe your opinions, as proceeding from loyal and faithful subjects: wherefore again I desire ye, that without fear, each one would in particular and generally advise, what we ought to do as matter most commendable. herewith he held his peace, and Barsinan Lord of Sansuegua, was entreated by all the assistants to speak his opinion, which they did for no other reason, but because the King would have every one honour him: whereupon, after many excuses on his own behalf, he arose from his seat, and making humble reverence, thus spoke. Seeing it liketh you, I should first declare my censure, I desire the King and this company to pardon my ignorance, being unworthy of this honourable and gracious favour. But me thinks (under submission to his pleasure, and better advise of all you my Lords) that we should withdraw ourselves a while from the presence of his Majesty, where we may more freely conceive our several humours. This answer was generally well liked, wherefore the King and Queen left them together, walking into an other of their Pavilions: than Seroloys the Fleming, County of Clare, began in this manner. You have all heard my Lords, the good zeal the King hath to the government, not only of the common wealth in his Realm, but particularly to the honourable increase of chivalry, which he desireth to continue in greater preminence than ever it hath been. And therefore my Lords, humbling myself to better opinion, I think it good (to supply the intent of our King) that we all aught to council him, to strengthen himself with men and money: for they are the sinews of war and peace, whereby, all Kings on the earth are maintained in their puissant authority. For it is most certain, that treasure is for Soldiers and men at Arms, by whom kings reign, nor ought it for any cause to be else where dispended, without committing of true sacrilege: for these affairs are termed holy, causing the state to live in tranquillity, and win glorious conquests of such as seek to invade them. Beside, to attain the better hereto, his Majesty must seek means to get all the good Knights he can hear of, as well strangers as other: entreating them with liberality, to send his renown on wings through the world, which will fetch from the furthest parts men to his service, in hope of condign recompense to their labour. By their aid he may easily make himself Monarch of all the Princes by East and West, for it hath never ●éen read or heard, that any Prince could make himself great, except by the assistance of valiant and hardy Knights, having bought their valour in brave attempts. I term it bought, by favouring, honouring, and distributing their treasure among them: that they may receive no occasion of dislike, but with unconquerable resolution to pursue victory. As he would have proceeded in further persuasion, the greater part of the Lords seemed to allow of his opinion, affirming that better council could not be given: which when Barsinan heard, he requested audience for himself, and having grant thereof, he intended to reverse this first advise, because he might very hardly else go forward with his secret purpose: them silence being made Barsinan thus begins. It seemeth by your countenances my Lords, that the County of Clares opinion is a grounded truth, for I see the most part of you aver the same, not having heard any thing to the contrary they and you shall remain contented. Nor are you ignorant my noble friends, that the better we be accompanied, the more we shall be feared of our enemies, our state in greater safety, and yourselves more securely defended and loved. If then any virtue at all abide in us, you may easily judge, how new friends cannot make us forgetful of our old: let none then differ from the request I have made, but rather yield and consent thereto. Again I entreat ye, and expressly command, that each of you presently name such to me as you know, happily they being yet unknown to me: to the end if any be in this Court, they may receive such favour of us, as the absent may be the better affected to our service, likewise we entreat them, not to departed our company, without giving us some advertisement. All which was presently done, many openly called, and their names set down: but because the tables were covered for dinner, the King arose from his chair, withdrawing himself into the appointed Hall, where many Tables were provided, which he commanded to be well furnished with Knights. You may easily conjecture, that during the service, they diversly communed together, some, on the King's deliberation, and other, of his magnificence, until the Tables were withdrawn again: when the King caused them all to be called, and thus spoke. You see my good friends, how earnestly I love and desire your company, wherefore you must grant me one request, not to departed this Court without my leave: for I would particularly know the service you have done me, and you taste such reward of my treasure, as may continue your love to me. Hereupon they were severally called by name again, and every one confirmed the King's request, except Amadis, because he was the queens Knight: and all this while was she present at these matters, wherefore after the noise was somewhat appeased, she framed her speeches to the King in this manner. My Lord, seeing it hath pleased you so to favour and honour your Knights, me thinks it were reasonable that I should do the like to the Ladies and Gentlewomen, of what part soever they be. Wherefore I humbly desire one boon, with assurance likewise if you consent, these Gentlemen after you shall not deny me: considering that in semblable company, good things deserve to be demanded and granted. Then the King looked on all the assistants, saying: What answer (my friends) shall we make the Queen? shall we agree to her demand? Yea Sir, if it be your pleasure, answered they. What? said Galaor, were it possible to deny a Princess so virtuous? Seeing you are all so well content, quoth the King, she shall obtain whatsoever she asketh. At these words the Queen arose, and thanking her Lord, said, Seeing it pleaseth you to give place and favour to my request, I desire henceforth you would do such honour to Ladies and Gentlewomen, as to take them into your protection and defence: maintaining their quarrels against all such, as would molest them any manner of way. Beside, if you have made promise of some suit to a man, and the like to any Lady or Gentlewoman: you first shall accomplish the woman's request, as being the weakest person, and who hath most need to be helped. This granted, hereafter they shall be better favoured and defended then ever they were: for villains that are wont to do them injury, meeting them in the fields, and knowing they have such Knights as you are for their protectors, dare no way wrong them. In sooth Madame, said the King, your request is reasonable, and I think none will gainsay it: we will have it therefore registered and set down as a law inviolable.   

CHAP. XXXIIII. ¶ How while this great and joyful assembly endured, a damosel came to the Court clothed in mourning, requesting aid of King Lisuart, in a cause whereby she had been wronged.  
Mean while this honourable company thus continued, free from all danger and mishap, thinking on nothing but pleasure and delights: there entered a damosel clad in mourning, who falling on her knees before the King, thus spoke. My Lord, each one is merry but my poor self, who am so crossed with grief and sorrow, as death were the best friend could come to me: yet would your Majesty take compassion on me, I easily might recover my joy again. These words were dippeth in such abundance of tears, as the King being moved therewith to pity, thus answered. Lady, I would be very glad to relieve your sadness, but tell me who is the cause thereof? Dread Lord, quoth she, my father and uncle are detained prisoners, by a Lady who hath vowed never to release them, until they deliver her two so good knights as one was whom they killed in fight. On what occasion did they kill him? said the King. Because he vaunted, replied the damosel, that he alone would combat with them, and so proud he grew in speeches, as at length he defied them. Not long after, they meeting one day together, the Knight used such reproving terms of cowardice, as my Father and Uncle could not endure the injury: but falling to the combat, the Knight was slain in the presence of a Lady, named Galdenda, who as she said, procured his coming to maintain a difference, which she had with a neighbour of hers, being her great enemy. Wherefore seeing him dead, she caused the conquerors to be taken, and put them into the most miserable prison in the world: albeit my Father and Uncle often told her, that they would perform for her what the Knight should have done. But she answered, how she well knew they were not sufficient for the cause, and therefore should never be released, until they delivered her two Knights of like account, each of them valuing him in strength whom they had slain, to finish the attempt himself was able to do. Know you not damosel, said the King, against whom they should combat, or the place where it is appointed? No truly Sir, answered the damosel, but I have seen my Father and Uncle cruelly put in prison, where their friends can compass no means to see them. herewith she began again to weep, that every one pitied to behold her, which made the King ask her, if the place were far off: In five days my Lord, quoth she, it may easily be gone and returned. Now trust me, said the King, you shall not want your joy for two Knights, wherefore look among all these gallants, and choose such as you best fancy. My Lord, replied the damosel, I am a stranger, and know not any one in this Court: but if you please, I will entreat the Queen to do me so much grace, as to appoint me twain after her own mind. Do so, said the King, if you think good: then came the damosel, and falling at the Queen's feet, proceeded thus. Madame, you are said to be one of the wisest and most virtuous Dames in the world, you understand the cause of my mourning, and the gracious offer the King hath made me: most humbly I beseech ye then, for the honour of God, to take compassion on a poor Gentlewoman, and council me which two Knights I shall choose, that are best able to supply my want. Believe me damosel, answered the Queen, you demand a matter of great importance, yet in such sort do I pity your cause, as I am the more willing to give you advise: albeit I would be loath to forego them twain, whom I could name in this company. Then she showed her Amadis, saying: This is my Knight. And pointing to Galaor, said. This other is the Kings, yet be they both brethren, and the best Knights (as I have heard) this day living. I desire your Majesty, quoth the damosel, to tell me their names. The one, said the Queen, is called Amadis, and the other Galaor. But by your favour, replied the damosel, is this Amadis the Knight so much renowned? I am very certain Madame, so soon as he and his brother shall arrive where I can bring them, my cause will be sufficiently executed, therefore I desire you to obtain me their company. hereupon the Queen called them, saying: I beseech ye both to secure this woman, who standeth in need of your assistance. Amadis was somewhat flow in answering, for he cast his eye on the Princess Oriana, to note if she would like of his departure: and she who likewise pitied the woman's cause, let fall her Gloves, which was an appointed signal between them, and thereby he was certified of her consent, wherefore he thus spoke to the Queen. I am at your disposition Madame, to do whatsoever you shall command me. Go then, in God's name, quoth she, and return again with all possible speed, without taring for any thing that may happen. Héerto they willingly condescended, and taking leave of her, Amadis feigned he would speak to Mabila, when coming near her and Oriana, he said to his Goddess. Madame, well may I say that the fairest Lady in the world, sends me to secure the most woeful woman I ever did behold. Sweet friend, quoth Oriana, I repent that I gave you so much liberty, because my mind telleth me, this attempt will prove somewhat dangerous to you, which I hope the heavens will powerful defend. I am persuaded Madame, answered Amadis, that as the wonderful woorkeman of the world hath enriched you with beauty beyond all other women, he will not suffer you to feel displeasure, by any misfortune happening to me: for being yours as I am, I imagine myself so happy, as I think no evil can chance unto me, if I continue in your gracious favour. If it lay in my power, replied Oriana, I would revoke your licence of departure: but seeing it may not be, I will remain in prayer for your prosperous success. So taking leave of her, he & Galaor went to arm themselves, then doing their humble duty to the King, they road away in company with the damosel. As thus they travailed, about midday they entered the Forest, which commonly was called the unfortunate Forest, because never any Knight errant entered into it, that could escape without some mischief: and so these two brethren dearly experimented, for such mishap bef●ll them, as they verily thought to lose their lives. Still road they on without any adventure, till the Moon began to grace the evening, yet would not the Damsel show any sign of stay, which made Amadis ask this question: Gentle woman, shall we rest ourselves here a while? Yea marry, quoth she, here before we shall find Tents ready provided, and people in them who expect your coming: make then a little haste I pray you, because I will go before to advertise them. They were very well content therewith, and so the Damsel left them, till soon after they espied the Tents, where they saw her among other Ladies and Knights, who bade them welcome at their arrival: and being alighted from their horses, they were conducted into a Pavilion, having servants standing ready to take their Armour, which they had no sooner put off, but was carried by them into an other room, whereupon Amadis demanded why they did so. Because, replied the damosel, you must lodge where they have carried your Armour. He imagining she said true, made no further inquiry, but sat down with his brother on stools that stood ready for them, attending the hour of supper. Not long had they sitten there, but five Knights well armed entered furiously upon them, saying: Yield yourselves, else you are slain. When Amadis heard and saw their bad behaviour, he knew right well they were betrayed, and starting up, said to Galaor. By God brother, we are trecherouslye deceived. Then finding no remedy but present death, after they had struggled with the Knights, who easily might have taken their lives, Amadis thus spoke▪ Ah villains, you have us now at too much advantage, deliver us our Arms, and this quarrel shallbe otherwise decided. These words will little profit ye, answered the Knights, yield yourselves our prisoners, or we will kill ye. So may you do, said Galaor, like traitors as you are, and I will maintain my words against two or three of you, if you dare deliver me mine Arms. We need no such proof, replied the Knights, but if you contend in further speeches, you shall dearly buy them with the loss of your lives. Now trust me, quoth Amadis, we rather will die, then be prisoners to such villains as you are. herewith one of the Knights went forth, and coming to a Lady, he said. Madame, they will not yield, shall we kill them? Stay a while, quoth she, and if they grant not my will, deal as you please with them. Then came the Lady (who was marvelous beautiful) into the Tent, and showing the countenannce of a very angry woman, thus spoke to Amadis & Galaor: Knights yield yourselves my prisoners, otherwise you must die. Brother, answered Galaor, it may be she will pity us, let us yield ourselves to her. And Madame, quoth he, we beseech ye deliver our horses and Armour, when if all your servants can conquer us, we will be content to submit ourselves: but if you deny us this reasonable request, we must esteem the less of you, and they that deal with us so discourtuoslye. I will give no credence to you at this time, replied the Lady, but would council ye to yield yourselves to me. Whereto at length they accorded, seeing they could no way else save their lives: yet knew she not their names, for the damosel that conducted them thither, would not tell her, because if her Mistress understood what they were she knew they might not escape the death. Wherefore she was content to conceal them, in respect of the offence she should commit, by causing the death of two so good Knights, beside, she repent her unhonourable journey, which now she could no way remedy, but only by keeping their names unknown. They being thus prisoners to the Lady, she entered into these speeches. Knights, you may see in what estate I hold ye, and there is no mean but one for deliverance, which I will acquaint ye withal: marry if you do not fulfil it, in steed of giving you liberty, I will cause you to be enclosed in such a dolorous prison, as shall be worse to you then death itself. Lady, answered Amadis, the matter may be such, that we shall easily consent thereto: and in some sort again, we will rather die then obey you. I know not (quoth the Lady) how you may conceive thereof▪ but I can assure ye, that if you promise me not to forsake the service of King Lisuart, and to go tell him at your departure hence, how you do it by commandment of Madasima Lady of Gantasi, who envies his welfare, because he keepeth one in his Court, that slew the most renowned Knight Dardan: you never shall escape this merciless captivity. Madame, said Galaor, if you do this, thinking thereby to offend King Lisuart, you much abuse yourself: for we are two poor Knights, who have no other riches than our Armour and horses, and he hath such store of redoubted servants, as he will little care whether you imprison us or no: yet shall it be such a shame to us, as you can never imagine the like, because we are unable to do it. What? quoth she, love you better to spend your life time in a most miserable prison, them to forsake the service of the most disloyal King living? Now trust me Madame, answered Galaor, but, ill beseems you these bad speeches: for he is one of the best Princes in the world, and against any Knight I will maintain, that never was disloyalty found in him. In luckless time for thee, said Madasima, hast thou uttered thy love; wherewith she commanded their hands to be bound. That shall I do, replied a Knight, and cut off their heads if you please. Hereupon he laid hold on Amadis, who was so offended thereat, as he lifted his fist to give him a blow on the ear: but the Knight escaping it, Amadis caught him about the middle, throwing him so violently against the ground, that he thought his heart was broken, for he lay still and moved not. Now grew the Lady and her Knights into such anger with Amadis, as presently they would have slain him, and he had not escaped, but that an ancient Knight stepped before him with his Sword drawn, using such threatenings and other behaviour, as he caused them all to go forth of the Pavilion: yet could he not defend him so well, but Amadis was wounded on the right shoulder, than stepped the ancient Knight to Madasima, with these words. By God Madame, you deal like a very unreasonable woman, causing your people in your presence to murder two Knights, after they have yielded themselves your prisoners. Why Sir? quote she, did you not see their presumptuous boldness? especially this varlet, who before my face hath so used this man, as he is not able to rise again? Madame, replied Galaor, we rather choose to die, than any other but yourself shall bind us: for you by nature are gentle and courteous, and we as prisoners will show obeisance to you. Seeing you saya so, answered Madasima, I will bind you myself: hereupon she bond their hands with strong cords, and presently taking down the Tents, they departed thence, Amadis and Galaor being set on horses without Saddles, and led along by two Sergeants: as for Gandalin and galaor's Squire, they followed on foot, having their hands bound behind them, in manner as if they had gone to hanging, and thus were they constrained to travail all night through the Forest.  
But Amadis was weighed of his life, not so much for his hard usage, in respect he could govern himself with wonderful patience: but for the matter Madasima would enforce them to, the refusal whereof, gave hope of no better usage at her hand, but for ever to be deprived of his fair Oriana. And contrariwise, if he consented, he should in like manner be banished from her presence, being compelled to serve King Lisuart no longer: these two extremities troubled his thoughts, which the ancient Knight well perceived that saved their lives, yet he imagined the cause to proceed from his hurt, and was moved to pity him, for the damosel had told him, that he was one of the best Knights in the world.  
Here you must observe, how the damosel was the ancient Knight's Daughter, and repent her treason in deceiving them, seeing how discourteously they were entreated, which made her earnestly to persuade her father, to practise some mean for their safety: for, quoth she, if they be put to death, perpetual shame will attend on my life. Have pity then (good father) on them and me, in respect the one is famous Amadis of Gaul, and the other his brother Galaor, who slew the Giant at the Rock of Galteres. Full well ●new the Knight the cause why his Daughter brought them, and therefore pitied their usage the more, devising how he might compass the means to shield them from death, which was near at hand, so coming to Amadis, he thus spoke. Be of good cheer Sir Knight, for I hope (by the help of God) ere long to deliver you from this cruel Lady: and if your wound offend ye, I will persuade her to let you have some cure. When Amadis heard him speak so friendly, knowing likewise it was the man, who delivered him from them that would have slain him, he thus answered. Father, I have no wound which greatly annoyeth me, but I have more cause to complain of the damosel, she that brought us hither by the falsest treachery in the world. I know very well, said the Knight, you have been deceived, and can tell what you are better than you ween, which makes me the more careful in seeking your good: therefore I shall give you profitable council if you will accept it. But did the Lady know you, you should die without any remedy, because nothing might serve else to expiate her wrath: believe then what I say, and put it in practice. You are fair, young, and of gallant stature, beside, Madasima hath been told, how you are one of the best Knights in the world, whereby she conceiveth good opinion of you: now must you cunningly close with her, requesting she would accept you as her husband or perpetual friend: for she is a woman not to refuse you, if you can never so little dissemble with her. But what you do, do quickly, because at that place whether we are now going, she intends to send one of her servants to King Lisuarts Court, whose errand is only to inquire your names: for she that conducted you hither, (perceiving you should assuredly die, if her mistress knew the names of you both) disguised the matter so with her, as she said she forgot to ask your names: only thus persuading her, that you were two of the very best Knights in the world. The danger thoroughly considered, I swear to you by the faith of a Christian, that I can devise no better mean for your deliverance, than this I have told ye: and shall I say more? if you do it not, worse will come to you than you suspect. But Amadis loved the Princess Oriana so dearly, as he rather desired death, then to hazard himself in such a composition, whereupon he thus replied. I thank you Sir heartily for your great kindness, but I have no such authority over myself, as will permit me to proceed so far: though your Lady herself entreated never so deeply, yet liberty nor life can persuade me. Alas Sir, answered the Knight, I wonder you will not consider how near your death is? It is all one to me, quoth Amadis, but if you will deal herein with my brother, he is a Knight more brave and beautiful than I am: happily he will consent to follow your devise. Presently he left Amadis, and coming to Galaor, delivered the whole discourse he did to his brother: which he liking very well, made this reply. Good Father if you could bring it to pass, that the Lady would accept me as her friend, my companion and I were for ever at your command. Refer the matter to me, quoth the Knight, immediately will I go to her, & I hope to strike it dead on her behalf. So departing from Galaor, he went to Madasima, who road foremost, and thus began to break with her. Madame, you carry two prisoners with you, but you do not know what they are. Why ask you me such a question? answered Madasima. Because the one of them, quoth the Knight, is esteemed the best Knight that ever bare Arms, and the most accomplished in all other good gifts. Is he not then named Amadis? said she, whose death I have so long desired? No Madame, answered the Knight, I speak of him which rideth next us, whose youth and beauty had you well regarded, yourself would say you have been too outrageous in injury. What though he be your prisoner, it is not for any offence committed against you, but only through the hatred you bear to another: all which you may yet redress in much better sort than you began, considering if he conceived liking of you, you may thereby easily induce him to love, & under that cerimonye, draw him to do what yourself shall desire. In sooth, replied Madasima, I will assay, to know if he be such a one as you report him to be. Do Madame, quoth he, and you shall find him one of the fairest Knights that ever you beheld.  
Here you must note, that the Knight no sooner left Galaor when he went to the Lady, but he took occasion thus to talk with his brother. You see (my Lord) the estate wherein we are, which requireth some notable dissimulation at our hands: I beseech ye therefore moderate your anger, because already it endangereth our lives, and for a while follow my direction. By heaven brother, answered Amadis, death had been very welcome to me: but since you wish me to be governed by you, I am content, desiring the conservation of our honours, which being lost, we are unworthy to live. Further they could not proceed, because Madasima came and interrupted them, when calling him aside, and fair day was displayed on the earth: his beauty and good grace so especially contented her, as she became surprised with his love, which she shadowed under demanding how he fared. Madame, said Galaor, I far worse than you should, were you in my power as I am in yours, for I would do you what service and pleasure possible I could, and you use the contrary to me, I having given no occasion of offence: reason willeth I should rather be your Knight to love and honour you, than your prisoner thus unkindly bound as I am. And surely I cannot but marvel heerat, considering the simple conquest you have thereby: use then such rigour to us, as women so divinely adorned are wont to do. Madasima hearing his gentle language, was more and more inflamed with his love, yet striung to dissemble it, she merrily said. Tell me fair Sir, if I choose you as my friend, and deliver you from prison, will you (for my sake) leave the service of King Lisuart, and afterward tell him how you did it by my means? With all my heart Lady, answered Galaor, and to perform it, you shall have what oath you please, both of me and my companion, for he will do no more than I request him. Credit me, quoth Madasima, if before this company you will promise to obey me, presently you shall enjoy your liberty. Behold me ready, replied Galaor. Yet is not this enough, answered Madasima, for you shall swear it in the presence of a Lady, where I am intended to lodge this night: in mean while you must assure me, not to depart my company. We will not on my faith Madame, quoth Galaor: and calling Amadis, caused him to affirm as much, whereupon they were unbound and set at liberty, their Squires likewise as friendly used, and mounting on their own horses, road at their ease as they did before. But Madasima & Galaor still continued their amorous discourses, till they arrived at a Castle named Albies, the Lady whereof received them very honourably, in respect of great friendship between Madasima and her. Needless were it to tell ye of their good cheer, it could not but be answerable to the time and company, but after supper Madasima demanded of Galaor, if he meant to keep his promise he made her by the way. What else Madame? quoth he, provided, you be so good as your word to me. Make no doubt thereof, replied Madasima: then framing her speeches to the Lady of the Castle, and also to two Knights that were her Sons, she proceeded in this manner. My good friends, I pray you hear a covenant between me, & these two Gentlemen, because hereafter you may be my witnesses. They are my prisoners, and under these conditions I have released them, that one of them shall continue my friend, and both of them forsake the service of King Lisuart, telling him: how for my sake, and in despite of him, they have done it. hereupon I entreat this favour at your hands, as to meet me at the Court of that wretched King, on the day they must declare this message, to see how contentedly he will take it: but if they fulfil not their promise, henceforth you shall publish in all places, the heinous offence by them committed, and ten days I give them to execute this charge. I am well pleased, said the Lady of the Castle, to do a greater matter for you then this, if they as willingly consent thereto. We pray you, quoth Galaor, not to fail herein, for we have promised and will perform it. Receive then your liberty, answered Madasima, yet must you not depart this night: these words she spoke, because she intended to seal the bargain with Galaor. When the time came that summoned them to rest, Amadis was conducted to one chamber, and Galaor to an other, whether soon after Madasima repaired, she being young, beautiful, & adventerously given: Galaor likewise, a man forward to such fortunes, when Love had erected his scaling ladders to the walls, quickly got possession of the Fort. And so well liked she these amorous skirmishes, as afterward she reported in many places, how she never tasted a more pleasant night, and had she not promised him departure, hardly would she have let him go so soon, nor did she but in hope of his speedy return. Thus was she inclined to voluptuous desire, as without care of her honour, she often fell in this sort. By these means escaped Amadis & Galaor, under the conditions you have heard, which they hoped to prevent without impeach, as hereafter shall be declared unto you. All that day they road, not hindered by any thing, and at night were friendly entertained in an Hermitage, setting forward the next morning to the Court of King Lisuart.   

CHAP. XXXV. ¶ How King Lisuart was in danger of his person and his state, by the unlawful promises he made too rash and unadvisedly.  
Four days after Amadis and Galaor departed from the Court, the ancient Knight came to the City of London, who left the Crown and the mantle with the Queen, as you have heard: when falling on his knee before the King, he began in this manner. I marvel my Lord, that in a time of such honour, you wear not the Crown I left with you. And you Madame, quoth he to the Queen, is it possible you should make so slender account, of the sumptuous mantle I gave you in charge, not deigning as yet to prove it, or how it will become ye? When the King heard his words, knowing they were lost, he sat a good while without any answer, which made the Knight thus begin again. On my faith I am glad you like them not, for had you pleased to keep them, you must likewise have granted my demand, and happily it would prove greater than you expect: otherwise, in falsifying your promise, you might procure the loss of my head. Most humbly therefore I beseech ye my Lord, to will them be delivered me again, because I may tarry no longer here. Now was the King more offended then before, which made him shortly thus to answer. Knight, what promise I made thee, I intent to keep, although the Crown and mantle be both lost, to my no little grief, as well for thy sake, as mine own. Heereat the Knight gave a loud shriek, saying: Ah wretched and miserable old man, now comes my latest and unlucky exigent: have I not long enough endured torments, but now must finish mine age in the cruelest death was ever heard of, having by no offence deserved it? While thus he complained, the tears abundantly trickled down his white beard, which moved the most constant to pity his grief, and the King himself overcome with compassion, returned this answer. Fear not (Knight) to speed any thing the worse for my loss, you must be satisfied whatsoever it cost me, according as I faithfully promised. At these words the Knight would have kissed his feet, but the King restrained him, saying: Demand what thou wilt, for thou shalt have it. I know my Lord, quoth the Knight, you remember your promise to deliver my Crown and mantle, or whatsoever I requested for them: God is my witness, I intended not to desire what now I must needs, by reason I have no other mean whereby to be delivered, if I had? I would acquit you of the grief I know you will endure, granting me the thing I must of necessity demand: but now it may not be otherwise, except you infringe your faith and loyalty. Rather will I lose my Kingdom, replied the King, then make a promise and not fulfil it, say boldly therefore thy mind. I thank your Majesty, quoth the Knight, there now remaineth nothing, but to have assurance from the Lords of your Court, that they seek not to take from me the gift you must deliver: otherwise your promise cannot be performed, or I satisfied, having a reward now, and taken from me anon. Great reason, said the King, my word shall stand for their warrant. Seeing my Lord, quoth the Knight, Fortune hath so permitted, that you have lost my mantle and the Crown, it is impossible to save my head, except you give me Madame Oriana your Daughter. Be therefore now advised, either restore my jewels, or give me her, albeit I love the one better than the other: for never can I have so much good by her, as I sustain harm by your unhappy loss. Now began all the Lords and Barons to murmur against the Knight, persuading the King to deny his word: but he rather desired death, he was such a good and loyal Prince, and this answer he made them. Be not offended my good friends, the loss of my Daughter will not be so prejudicial to me, as the breach of my promise: for if the one be envious, the other is injurious, and to be shunned every way. The proof is ready, if subjects find not their Prince faithful, and his word inviolable, what care will they have of the love and fidelity they own to him? much better unborn than any such blemish: this Knight therefore must have my Daughter, and I will deliver her according to my promise. Hereupon he sent for her, but the Queen being present all this while, little thought the King would so forget his fatherly love: and when she heard this rigorous sentence pronounced against her Daughter, she good Lady fell at the King's feet, when weeping (as a mother for the loss of her child) she said. What will ye do my Lord? will ye be more inhuman to your own blood, than the brute Beasts are to their contraries? Notwithstanding all their brutish qualities, yet be they never so unnatural, to show any violence to their young ones. May it then be thought reasonable, under shadow of an accorded promise (without knowledge thereof) to commit so great wrong, not only against yourself impitious father, or me a woeful and unfortunate mother, but likewise against the whole common weal of this Realm? Alas Sir, let my incessant tears persuade you, to bethink some other mean for your discharge, and also to content the Knight. Madame, quoth the King, my word is past, I pray you talk no more thereof to me. Thus speaking, the tears streamed down his cheeks, whereat the Lords were not a little aggrieved, and that which most troubled him, was the acclamations of the Ladies, wherefore the King commanded them to their chambers. The Queen seeing she might not prevail, fell in a swoon, but by her Ladies she was conveyed thence, the King giving charge on pain of death, that no one should seek to alter his promise. My Daughter, quoth he, I commit to the pleasure of God, but my promise shall not be broken if I can help it.  
By this time the news came to Oriana, how her Father had consented to her departure, whereat she fell down in such a trance, as they never expected life in her again: when Mabila and the Ladies reputing her dead indeed, thought best to acquaint the King therewith, yet by forced remedies she revived again, breathing forth many dolorous sighs. Now the most of the women severed themselves, some near, and some further from her, because she should not hear their complaining: and such compassion took they on her, as would have converted a stony heart into tears, especially, when the Princess recovered the power of speech, and faintly uttered these regrets. Full well, quoth she, do I now behold mine own ruin. Ah sweet friend, wert thou here, easily wouldst thou deliver me from this pain: but thus much my heart foretold me, even at the very hour of thy departure. Ah cursed be that hour, because I consented to it. When thou shalt hear of these tidings, I fear (being unable to endure them) thou wilt die immediately: yet this is the best hope, we shall not be long one after another. Ah death, the only refuge to the unfortunate, seest thou not me foremost in this rank? why stayest thou? Fortune will triumph over thee, in dealing so extremely as she can with me, albeit I know thou art able to revenge thyself: make haste therefore, and let her not get such pre-eminence on me, in despite (as it were) of thy authority. Adieu then sweet friend, for never shall we see each other more in this life: at these words she fell in a swoon again. When the King saw she tarried so long, he sent to command her make more speed: but the messenger found her in the deadly agony, and staying till she was recovered again, as she began to renew her moans, he thus spoke to her. Madame, the King is offended because you come not to him. When she heard this message, she arose, having her heart so sealed up with grief, as it seemed to enable her vital forces, and being followed by none of her women, but the damosel of Denmark, she came before the King, and casting herself at his feet, said. My Lord and Father, what is your pleasure with me? Fair daughter, quoth he, I must accomplish my promise. These speeches provoked her former pains, when the King grieving to behold the sight thereof, turned his head aside, saying to the Knight. See my friend, here is the gift you demand, and the only thing in the world I most love: but intent you to carry her hence alone? My Lord, said the Knight, she shall be accompanied with the two Gentlemen and their Squires, which were in my company when you made me this promise at Windsor: and more may I not allow, until he have her, to whom I am constrained to deliver her. Yet let her have the company of this damosel, said the King, for it were unseemly, she should be alone among so many men. Well, quoth the Knight, for one woman it matters not. So taking the Princess in his arms, she being scant revived from her swoon, he set her up on horsseback, and caused a Squire to sit behind her on the horse, who might hold her fast lest she should fall: and very sad countenance showed the Knight, saying there was none in the Court more sorrwofull than himself. After the damosel of Denmark was mounted, the King entreated her not to leave his daughter whatsoever happened, & while they were thus preparing, the Princess looking woefully about her: a tall Knight well armed came among them, who not taking off his helmet, or saluting the company, took oriana's horse by the bridle. This was Arcalaus the enchanter, and came in this sort lest he should be known: soon after he commanded the Squire to ride away with her, which the Princess perceiving, and seeing there was no other remeeye, delivering a sigh as if her heart would have split, she said. Ah my dear friend, in a hapless hour for you was the boon granted, because it will be both your death and mine. Herein she meant Amadis, whom she gave leave to depart with the damosel, yet the standers by understood it of her Father and herself.  
Thus departed Oriana with them that conducted her, who road apace till they were entered the Forest near at hand: and the King himself was mounted on horseback, to conduct his Daughter somewhat on the way, as also to forbid any rescue from following, according to his former promise. But the Princess Mabila standing at a window, to see this sad and pensive separation, could come no nearer to Oriana, her heart was so surprised with grief: yet by hap she espied Dardan the Dwarf that served Amadis, making speed after the Princess on horseback, when calling him to her, she said. Dardan, if thou love thy master, stay not anywhere till thou acquaint him with this mishap: if now thou fail him, it may return to thine own danger, for this is the time of greatest necessity. By God Madame, answered the Dwarf, I will with all diligence perform my duty. So giving the spurs to his horse, he galloped the same way his Master road with the Damsel.  
But leave we him posting, and tell what now happened to King Lisuart, who accompanied his Daughter to the entrance of the Forest, causing all such to return as followed him. Even in the hour of this trouble, a damosel came to him mounted on a swift Palfrey, with a Sword hanging about her neck, and a Lance richly painted, having the point gilded over: after she had saluted him, she thus spoke. My Lord, God increase your joy, & make you willing to perform what you promised me at Windsor, in the presence of all your worthy Knights. At these words the King knew her, remembering it was she that said: how she would prove the virtue of his heart, whereupon he thus answered. In good faith damosel, I have now more need of joy then ever I had: notwithstanding, I am ready to accomplish any thing I promised you. It is the only thing my Lord, quoth she, of my return to you, being the most loyal King in the world, wherefore humbly I entreat ye, presently to revenge my cause on a Knight that passed through this Forest, who not long since slew my Father, by the most horrible treason that ever was heard of: yet not content therewith, the villain violently took me away, and perforce made me yield to his unlawful will. But in such sort is he enchanted, as he can not be done to death, except the most virtuous man in the Realm of great Britain, give him a wound with this Lance, and an other with this Sword: both which he gave in keeping to a Lady, of whom he had good hope to be loved, yet therein he was deceived, for she hateth him above all other, for which cause she gave me this Sword and Lance, whereby we might both be revenged on him. Nor can it be done but by you only, who are the chief and most virtuous man in this Country: wherefore as you promised me before so many valiant men, may it please ye to execute this just action of vengeance. And because I have often told him, that by this day I would be provided of a Knight to combat with him, he is come alone into this Forest, attending only for my Champion. It is likewise ordered, how you must have no company but myself, for he little thinketh that I have the Sword and Lance so hurtful to him: and this is our agreement together, if he remain conqueror, I must pardon him mine injury, but if he be vanquished, he must do what I command him. Presently the King sent a Gentleman for his Armour, which when he had put on, he mounted on a brave Courser, girding the Damosels Sword about him, leaving his own that was one of the best in the world: then without any other company, he road on with her, she carrying his helmet. Not far had they ridden, but she caused him to forsake the high beaten way, conducting him by a little path among the shrubs, where not long before they had past that led away Oriana: then the damosel showed him a huge Knight armed, mounted on a black Courser, whereupon she said. My Lord, take your helmet, for this is he you must deal withal: which the King quickly did, and approaching near the Knight, said. Proud Traitor, defend thyself, and thy lawless lust. So couching their Lances, they encountered together, when the King perceived how his painted Lance broke like a stalk of hemp▪ having no strength at all in it: which made him draw his Sword to charge the Knight, but at the first stroke, the blade broke close to the hilt, whereby he imagined himself betrayed, for the Knight did what he pleased to him. But as he would have killed his Horse, the King being quick and nimble, caught hold by his gorget, and in such sort they struggled together, as they both fell to the ground, the Knight underneatheth, and the King upon him, by means whereof, he got his Sword from him, and unlacing his Helmet to smite off his head, the damosel cried out so loud as she could: Sir Arcalaus, help your Cousin quickly, or else he dies. When the King heard her name Arcalaus, he looked up, and saw ten brave Knights come running to him, the one of them using these words: King Lisuart, spare the Knight, otherwise thou shalt not reign one hour. If I die, answered the King, so shall you all for me, like traitors as you are. Then one of them gave him such a blow with his Lance, as not only sore hurt him, but made him fall on his face to the ground: yet did he recover himself very quickly, like one resolved to defend his life, albeit he saw death present before his eyes. But being unable to resist so many, at length they got sure hold on him, when renting off his helmet and his shield, they bond him fast with a double chain. Afterward they set him on a simple horse, two Knights still holding the ends of the chain, and so leading him along, sought where they might find Arcalaus, Oriana, and the damosel of Denmark: but the Knight against whom the King first fought, road before apace, and waving his gauntlet aloft to Arcalaus, said: Behold Cousin, King Lisuart is ours. A very good prize, answered Arcalaus, henceforth shall his enemies have no cause to dread him. Villain, quoth the King, well know I thou wast never other then a traitor, and though I am wounded, yet will I maintain my words if thou darest combat with me. By God, said Arcalaus, never should I make reckoning of myself, to vanquish such a Lord as thou art. Thus contending as they road, they came to a double way, where Arcalaus stayed, thus speaking to his Page. Sirrah, ride with all speed to London, and say to Lord Barsinan, that he must execute what I willed him, for I have begun indifferently, if he can make an end as well. Gone is the Page toward the City, in mean while Arcalaus devised, to send the King one way, and Oriana another, wherefore he said to his Cousin. Take ten Knights with you, and conduct Lisuart to my prisons at Daguanel: these other four shall keep me company, for I will lead Oriana to mount Aldin, where I will show her strange and wonderful things. This mount Aldin was the place of his most usual abode, being one of the strongest and fairest in the world: thus the ten Knights carried away the King, and Arcalaus with the rest had charge of the Princess. But certainly, if here we consider the properties of Fortune, we may easily repute her as mutable, or rather more, toward great Princes and Lords, than the meaner sort: as well she witnessed by King Lisuart, even in the time when he intended most honourably, to be thwarted with such a contrary chance. For at one instant, he saw himself in the hands of his greatest enemies, his Daughter (and heir to his Kingdom) taken from him, and all his estate in danger of ruin. He that was wont to be honoured of all, was now injuriously despised, bound, and led as a thief, by a villainous Enchanter, a mean Gentleman, and out of any other hope then death. Is not this then a fair example for such, as at this day are called to the greatest honours in the world? wherewith oftentimes they are so blinded, that they forget both God and themselves. King Lisuart was a right good, virtuous, and wise Prince, yet the divine ordinance suffered him to fall in these dangers: to the end he might remember, how all creatures remain at his heavenly disposition. This lesson he taught him, for in short time he was brought so low as might be, and afterward restored again, as you shall presently understand.   

CHAP. XXXVI. ¶ How Amadis and Galaor understood, that King Lisuart and his daughter were carried away prisoners, wherefore they made haste to give them secure.  
WE have before declared, by what means Amadis and Galaor escaped from Madasima the Lady of Gantasi, who would have put them to death if she had known their names likewise how they took their way toward London, as men right joyful of their good success. But by the way, they met Dardan the Dwarff so fast as horse could gallop, whereupon Amadis thus spoke to Galaor. Brother, me thinks my servant Dardan cometh toward us, and doubtless about some matter of importance, for do you not see what speed he maketh? By this time Dardan broke off their talk, rehearsing every thing that happened since their departure: but when he told, how the Princess Oriana was carried from the Court against her will, & what sorrowful lamentations she made: Amadis entered into a despairing fury, demanding which way they went that had her in charge. In soothe my Lord, answered Dardan, they road thorough the Forest, which lieth on the other side of the City. Without more words Amadis gave the spurs to his horse, galloping amain toward London, so confounded with the terror of these news, as he could not speak to his brother Galaor, who left him not but followed at hand. Through that City they ride not making any stay, inquiring which way they took that led away the Princess, and every one showed it him very readily. As Gandalin came posting after his Lord, it was his hap to pass by the queens lodging, where she standing at a window overcome with grief: espied Gandalin, whom she called to her, and asked where he had left his Master. Madame, quoth he, he is gone after them that have away the Princess. Stay a little I pray thee, said the Queen: then sent she for the kings sword, which was accounted one of the best in the world, saying. I desire thee carry this sword to Amadis, and tell him the King forsook it this morning, he being gone with a damosel to combat for her, and she hath given him another sword: as yet we hear no tidings of him, either when he will return, or whether he is gone. Gandalin having received the sword, set away with speed after his master, whose impatience urging him to more haste then care of his journey, made him ride so far into a foul sloughe, as he was feign to alight ere he could get forth again. And leading his horse by the bridle to escape the mire, Galaor and Gandalin overtook him, acquainting him with the Queen's message, and delivering the Sword she sent him. When he heard how the King was likewise gone, his desire of speed increased to give him secure, but his horse was so wearied with striving in the bog, as he was constrained to take Gandalins: which travailed much worse than his own, yet with the help of his spurs he made him go. At length they found the tract of horses, and by good hap met with certain poor labouring men, whom they asked if they met not any by the way. Yes my Lord, quoth one of them we met certain men leading a Knight & two Ladies, albeit we durst not show ourselves, but kept us hidden in the thickest of the wood, for doubtless they be some bad people: here to they added such a description of the prisoners, as they easily gathered them to be the King and Oriana betrayed. But tell me good friends, said Amadis, know you none of the other? For the prisoners are the King and his daughter. In sooth, replied the poor man, we are altogether ignorant what they are, yet we heard one that led the horse of the fairer Lady, often times name Arcalaus. Now trust me, quoth Amadis to his brother, it is the villain which enchanted me: Oh that it might be my hap to find him. Gentlemen, said the man, ten of them went this way on the right hand with the knight prisoner, and five more this way on the left hand with the Ladies. Brother, quoth Amadis to Galaor, I beseech ye to follow the King, lest worse befall him then we can remedy, and I will after the Princess Oriana. So shaking hands in equal resolution, they parted the several ways: but Amadis found his horse so over-laboured, as he was able to hold out no longer. Being thus hindered, by chance he looked aside, and saw where a Knight lay slain, with a Squire standing by holding his horse: whereupon Amadis stepped to him, demanding who committed that murder. A traitor hath done it, answered the Squire, who is not yet gone very far, and leadeth with him the fairest Lady in the world: no other reason had he for my masters death but because he asked what the Lady was. What wilt thou do, said Amadis, tarrying here? I stay sir, quoth he, till some one come, who may help me with my masters body to some burial, and afterward I intent to seek my fortune. If thou answered Amadis, wilt give me the horse thou holdest, I will leave thee mine, and my Squire to help thee, and one day will give thee two better beside. The Squire, was content, when Amadis mounting on the horse, commanded Gandalin to help him bury his masters body, and afterward to follow him the same way he road.  
Thus Amadis hies so fast as horse can run, and espying an Hermitage, went to see if any body were within: at his call, the Hermit came forth, of whom he asked, if he saw not five Knights pass by leading two Ladies. No verily, answered the old father: but do you not inquire for a Castle, which is not far from this place? Why ask ye such a question? quoth Amadis. Because a Nephew of mine told me, said the Hermit, how Arcalaus the enchanter is going thither, & two Ladies with him, whom he carrieth perforce. Ah father, replied Amadis, you name the traitor I look for. Trust me Sir, quoth the Hermit, he hath done many mischiefs in this country, would God we were either rid of him, or his life amended: but have you no body to help you? Nobody, but God and myself, answered Amadis. Why Sir? said the Hermit, you tell me they be five in company, and you but one, beside, Arcalaus is counted one of the best Knights in the world, and with whom few or none dare meddle. Whatsoever he be, quoth Amadis, I am certain he is a disloyal traitor, and they no less that keep him company: what less cause then have I to fear him? for God is just, in whom is only my confidence. I pray you Sir, replied the Hermit, know you of whence the Ladies be? One of them, said Amadis, is the Princess Oriana, daughter and heir to the virtuous King Lisuart: the other is a Lady attending on her. The God of heaven, answered the Hermit, further your intent, that so good a Princess may not be long in such a wretch's custody. If you have any provender father, quoth Amadis, I desire you give my horse a little. The Hermit brought forth such as he had, and while the horse fed, Amadis demanded to whom the Castle belonged. To a Knight called Grumen, said the Hermit, Cousin germane to proud Dardan, who was slain at the Court of King Lisuart, which makes me the rather conjecture, that he will lodge such as are enemies to so good a Prince. Good father, replied Amadis, I beseech you have mind of me in your prayers, and now show me the nearest way to the Castle. Which the Hermit did, when Amadis mounting on horsseback, took his leave, following the way he was directed. Not long after, he got a sight of the Castle, which was compassed with strong Towers and high walls, wherefore so closely as he could he approached near it, where he heard what joy they made for the arrival of Arcalaus, when marking how many gates of issue it had, he found there was no more but one, wherefore tying his horse where he might not be seen, he hide himself so conveniently, as none could pass in and out but he must needs see them, thus was he glad to watch there all this night. At the break of day, doubting lest the watch of the Castle should descry him, he entered a little thicket, where long he had not stayed, but he saw a Knight come forth on a little hill before the Castle, looking all about if he could discern any ambush: which done, he went in again, and very soon after, Arcalaus with his four companions issued forth well armed, conducting the two Ladies, whom Amadis well knew so soon as he saw them. hereupon he fell down on his knee & prayed, that God would strengthen him in this enterprise, then looking to the well guirding of his horse, and that every part of his armour were as it ought to be, taking his Lance, he mounted, tarrying till they passed by him. But because this place was unfit for the combat, he intended to suffer them enter on a plain near at hand, still keeping himself hid in the thicket: and so near did Arcalaus with his company pass by Amadis, as he heard the Princess Oriana thus complain. Alas sweet friend, quoth she, great reason have you to bid me adieu, when I would permit you to go secure her, that seemed the most woeful woman in the world: for I fear this shall be our latest congee, and never may you see me again, because death giveth such due attendance, as it is impossible for me to escape. These words were of such virtue, that albeit Amadis could not refrain from tears, yet did they so lively inflame his heart, as overreaching them ere they knew any thing, he thus spoke to them. You lie false traitors, for these Ladies shall pass no further. The voice of Amadis was quickly known by Oriana and the damosel of Denmark, when imagining themselves already rescued, their minds were joyfully cheered, especially to see their conductors so suddenly amated. But Arcalaus perceiving how Amadis outraged his friends, approached more near him, and Amadis well knowing him from the rest, met him so bravely, as he sent him headlong to the ground: then entering among the other four, he gave such a charge to Grumen, the Lord of the castle where they lodged, that his Lance passed quite through his body, and breaking therein, he fell down dead from his horse. Now drew he the Sword the Queen sent him, wherewith he laid so valiantly about him, as his enemies were clean dismayed in their hope, when they beheld Arcalaus not yet recovered, whose power they reputed able to overthrow an Army. As he continued the combat with them, the damosel of Denmark seeing the friends of Arcalaus fight so timorously, & himself lie still as one in a trance, she said to Oriana. Madame, behold how your Amadis honoureth your love, see you not how he hath used Arcalaus and our host? in sooth we are already succoured, for these other villains can hold out no longer. Ah happy Amadis, quoth Oriana, the mirror of all virtue and chivalry, heaven give thee grace to finish our deliverance, with victory over these malicious traitors. When the Squire who had the charge of Oriana, as you have heard, understood that she named Amadis, he was in such fear, as presently he leapt from the horse saying. By my faith I might full well be reputed a fool, to tarry for such blows as my companions have: and with these words he ran away so fast, that he never looked behind if any pursued him. In this time Amadis had dispatched three of the Knights, and the fourth misdoubting like lot would fall to him, trusted to his horse legs for safety of himself: but as Amadis followed him, he heard the Princess give a loud cry, when looking back, he saw that Arcalaus had got her with him on horsseback, and galloped away so fast as he could. hereupon he let go the Knight, to help Oriana, overtaking Arcalaus ere he got much ground, and lifting his sword to strike at him, he doubted lest he should hurt the Princess: but turning on the other side, he gave him such a wound on the shoulder, as he was glad to let fall Oriana, that himself might escape away more lightly: for he knew if Amadis laid hold on him, all the treasure in the world could not save his life. When Amadis saw himself sure of his Lady, he still pursued the cowardly runaway, saying: Tarry Arcalaus, tarry, and thou shalt see if Amadis be dead, according as thou lyedst not long ago. But Arcalaus had no leisure to answer, he rather took his shield from his neck and threw it to the ground, because nothing might hinder his horse in running. At length as Amadis struck at him, the blow fell short on the horse buttock, and the beast feeling himself wounded, made greater haste away then he did before, leaving Amadis very far behind, who earnestly desired the death of Arcalaus: but seeing all his labour was in vain, and doubting least some harm might happen to his mistress, to lose her again by negligence, having by hardy valour so well recovered her: he turned back again, and attaining the place where she stayed for him, he alighted from his horse, then falling on his knee humbly kissed her hand, saying. Madame, heaven hath afforded me more grace, in strengthening me to secure you, than ever it did to any other Knight, for I was out of hope to see you again. But she good Lady remained still so passionate, in respect of her ungentle usage, as also affrighted with fear when Arcalaus let her fall: that she could return no answer, but gave him thanks by many kind embracings. By this time, the damosel of Denmark came to them, and by the way found the sword of Arcalaus, which she bringing to Amadis, thus spoke. See here (my Lord) a very fair sword. Right soon did Amadis know it, to be the same was found with him on the Sea, which Arcalaus took from him when he lay enchanted, being not a little glad he had recovered it.  
While many affable speeches passed between them, Amadis still comforting his dismayed mistress, and she rejoicing in her lovely friend: Gandalin arrived, who had sought his master all that night, and happily found him there with his Lady. Now minded they to tarry no longer in this place, wherefore making choice of the Knight's Horses to their own liking, they all amounted, Amadis leading oriana's Palfrey by the bridle, and she rehearsing to him by the way, what injury the dead Knights had done her, as in her lifetime she never endured the like. Madame, answered Amadis, much greater grief have I suffered by a living creature, yet less to be feared then the dead, who can do no harm: but beauty only hath hazarded my life. Albeit Oriana well knew his meaning, yet she demanded who was the cause thereof. Even you Madame, quoth he, who hold me in a life more irksome than death. My Lord, said the Princess, never with my consent did you sustain any harm, and very sorry would I be you should think me so unkind: for rather could I afford to ease your grief, were it in my power to compass the mean. Ah Madame, replied Amadis, as by you only I took my hurt, so from you only must I have my help, and reason reputes it a matter of great inconvenience, that such rare perfections should cause so rough passions. But if you be endued with such pity, as the rest of your excellencies do plainly promise, you will not behold that in me, which you grieve to see in your chiefest enemies: even death gentle Princess, who in my torments awaiteth on me, forbearing to strike, being conquered with this hope, that did opportunity and place serve, your passed promise should ease your thoughts, & deliver me from this weighty oppression. But see how sweet occasion favoureth us, and fortune stands aloof from hindering our content: do not you then (good Madame) let slip this gracious offer, when time and place challenge it at your hand, considering the argument is urgent, and being now loitered, may hardly be again so well recovered. Oriana (not so much for these reasons, as because her pain was equal with his, and had not he begun the motion, herself would have solicited the same) thus answered. Great is the force of your persuasions, but greater the unfeigned love I bear you, which hath such authority over me: as when you shall have least occasion to demand, I am content and constrained to obey, yea, to repose such a thing in your trust, as very hardly can I hold fast in my thoughts. Yet I desire you, albeit you see me not stored with providence, that you will carefully manage our enterprise, by wary keeping it from knowledge or suspect: rather submitting ourselves to the highest displeasure, then common reproof, which is contained within no limits. Sufficient protestations made Amadis hereof, but little battery needed when the hold was won, and riding through a very thick wood, the Princess became desirous of sleep, because the night before she enjoyed no rest: whereupon she acquainted Amadis therewith, saying, she must needs sleep ere she went any further. He being no unprofitable counsellor, and seeing a dainty plot by a river side, shadowed with boughs from the heat of the Sun: advised her to rest there awhile, and dismounting from their horses, he thus spoke. So please you Madame, in this place we may stay till the heat be gone, and you rest in tarrying for the cold evening: in mean space I will send Gandalin to the Town, to bring some viaunds to refresh us withal. Your reason is good, said Oriana, but how shall he come by meat? He shall leave his horse in pawn, answered Amadis, and return on foot. Yet I (quoth Oriana) have a better help than that: he shall sell this King, which can do us no better service than now in our need. So pulling the King from her finger, she gave it to Gandalin, who taking his leave, as he came by his Master, said: So good time lost, will never be had again. Amadis knew his meaning well enough, yet made he no show thereof, but unarmed himself, and Oriana spreading the Damosels mantle on the grass, laid her down upon it: the damosel likewise went aside into the wood, where she fell sound asleep, by reason she watched all the night before. Thus remained Amadis alone with his mistress, so glad of her gentle grant, and the favourable hour at hand: as he could not withdraw his eyes from their comfort, which made him delay time in needless gazing. In the end, though his hands had been slow in unarming him, all his other members were in better state, for not one of them but did his duty. The heart was ravished in thoughts, the eye, in contemplation of excellent beauty, the mouth, with sweet kisses, the arms, with kind embracings: and no one mal content in any point, except the eyes, which wished themselves in number like the stars in heaven, for their better ability in function, thinking they could not sufficiently behold so divine an object. In great pain were they likewise, because they were hindered from the pride of beauty, for the Princess held her eyes closed, as well to disguise her desire of sleep, as also for the discreet shame conceived by this pleasure, so that she durst not boldly look on him she most loved. Hereupon, carelessly spreading her arms abroad, as though she slept in deed, and by reason of the exceeding heat, leaving her gorget open, two little alabaster bowls lively showed themselves in her bosom, so fair & sweetly respiring, as Nature never showed more curious workmanship. Now Amadis forgetting his former bashfulness, seeing Fortune allowed him so quaint a favour, let loose the reins of amorous desire with such advantage, as notwithstanding some weak resistance of the Princess, she was enforced to prove the good and bad together, which maketh friendly maidens become fair women. Dainty was the good grace and subtlety of Oriana, in shadowing her surpassing pleasure, with a delicate and feminine complaint of Amadis boldness, showing in countenance such a gracious choler and contented displeasure: as in stead of consuming time in excuses, Amadis resaluted her with sundry sweet kisses, as also an other cause to chide if she would. But she being loath to mix angry speeches with amiable solace, or with frowning looks to cross an equal content, thought it better to commend the control of so kind a lover, and therefore continued this pleasing recreation, as nether party received occasion of mislike: rather with kisses (which are counted the seals of love) they chose to confirm their unanimity, than otherwise to offend a resolved patience. Ah, how many repetitions made Oriana, of the pains she suffered in expectation of this day? confessing those private particularities, which none but she and her desire were acquainted withal. How many matters likewise alleged Amadis, expressing thereby his singular contentment, and credible assurance of his perpetual faith? now reckoning all his travails well employed, and more than sufficiently recompensed. In these discourses and pleasures they spent most part of the day, carried so far from remembrance of any thing else, as they thought not on the time, how day wasted, and night ensued, whether Gandalin were returned, or the damosel awake, all these things were now cast into oblivion. They imagined to have viands good store, being thus delighted the one with the other, which seemed more delicious to them, than all the Nectar or Ambrosia of jupiter. Yet at length they remembered themselves somewhat better, when hearing the damosel and Gandalin so near them, their pastime ended, and taking each other by the hand, walked among the trees to take the air: in the mean while Gandalin and the damosel spread a cloth on the grass, and set there-on such victuals as they had. Now though there wanted rich cupboards of plate, as were in the houses of King Lisuart and Perion, as also the solemnity of great services: yet the fortunate entertainment at this time, was held by them of higher estimation. During their repast, as they regarded the woods and fountains, they began to esteem it no strange matter, why the God's sometime forsook the heavens, to dwell in groves and delightful Forests. jupiter they imagined wise, when he followed Europa, Io, and his other friends. Beside, Apollo had reason to become a Shepherd, for the love of Daphne, and the daughter of Admetus. They being willing to imitate their example, wished continually to tarry there, without returning to the Palace and royal pomp: reputing the Nymphs of of the woods most happy Goddesses, excelling such as remained in the walled Cities. Pity were it to trouble these lovers in their amorous devices, wherefore we will leave them, and see what happened to Galaor, following the search of King Lisuart.   

CHAP. XXXVII. ¶ How Galaor rescued King Lisuart from the ten Knights that led him to prison.  
GAlaor parting from his brother Amadis, in such sort as you heard, followed the way whereby the King was led prisoner, and making great haste, in respect of his earnest desire to overtake him, had mind of nothing else he met by the way. As thus he continued galloping, he saw a Knight well armed come riding toward him, who marveling why the Prince used such extreme diligence, when he came near him, said. Stay a while Knight, and tell me what affairs cause you make such speed. Forbear Sir I pray ye, answered Galaor, for by my tarrying may happen too great an inconvenience. By God, said the Knight, you must not so escape, for you shall tell me whether you will or no. I may not trifle the time, quoth Galaor, and so road on still without any tarriance. Nay Gallant, replied the Knight, I I will be resolved in my demand, though to your cost. hereupon he posted after Galaor, still exclaiming on him with hard words, weening he fled away for fear of him, and oftentimes he thought to smite him with his lance, but the Prince evermore escaped his attempt: yet his horse being sore wearied, hindered him very much, when the Knight overtaking him, thus spoke. Infamous palliard, & without heart, of these three things choose the best, either to combat, return, or answer my demand. Now trust me, said Galaor, the easiest of these three is hard to me, wherein you make no show of courtesy: for return I may not, and if I combat, it must be against my wil But if you desire to know the cause of my haste, follow me & you shall see: for I should tarry too long in telling it, and happily you would scant believe me, so horrible and disloyal is the deed which compelleth me to this impatience. Believe me, quoth the Knight, & I will follow thee three whole days, only to see whether thou liest or no.  
Thus Galaor held on his way, and the Knight hasting after, till having ridden the space of a mile, when they espied two other Knights, the one being on foot running to catch his horse, and the other galloping away so fast as he could. He on foot was Cousin germane to the Knight that followed Galaor, who in jousting with the other Knight, had been dismounted: and knowing his kinsman, acquainted him with the whole accident, requesting his assistance in revenge of his wrong. It may not be now, answered the other, till I have followed the Knight you see before, three days together: hereto he added all the speeches between Galaor and him. In sooth, replied his Cousin, he should seem (by your words) the greatest coward in the world, else mindeth he some enterprise of higher consequence: therefore I will adjourn the revenge of mine injury, and bear you company, to the end I may behold the sum of your attempt. While thus they talked, Galaor had gotten very far before, which caused them make the more haste after him: till at length the Prince espied the ten Knights that conducted the King, they riding up a narrow straight, five before him, and five behind. Now did he fully resolve to die, or purchase his deliverance, for he was so offended to see the King bound with chains, as he imagined himself able to conquer them all, and as many more if they had been there, whereupon he thus cried to them: Traitors, durst you unreverently lay hand on the best King in the world? with which words he met one of them so directly, as his Lance passing through his body, he fell down dead beside his horse. When the other four saw their companion slain, they willed the foremost five to guard the King, for they would revenge his death sufficiently: but they found themselves very much deceived, for though the Prince's horse, (by reason of his sore travail) often s●umbled, and thereby put him in danger of falling, yet laid he such load upon his enemies, as two more of them accompanied the first, and the other twain were brought into hard extremity. Then came the other five with a fresh charge upon him, when Galaor perceiving his own danger, intended to revenge his death and the Kings together, entering courageously among the chickest, showing most rare and haughty chivalry. When the two Cousins that followed him beheld his behaviour, confounded with marvel, the one said to the other. By God we did him wrong to term him a coward, for he is the most hardy Knight that ever I saw: except the world shall twit us with shame, let us not see him die in this extremity, lest the beauty of chivalry be gone for ever. Resolved thus to secure him, they valiantly thrust themselves into the skirmish, delivering such friendly blows on every side, that Galaor soon felt himself well assisted: because his enemies were somewhat more dispersed, and he had leisure to take a little breathing, but wundering whence this aid should proceed, he fell to work again, giving them good cause to misdoubt their lives. When the Cousin to Arcalaus saw how his side decayed, and his Knights dishartened, slain and sore wounded: he purposed to kill the King: who by this time found the means to unbind himself, and alighting from his horse, got one of the slain Knights swords, wherewith he resisted his enemies bravely. As the Cousin to Arcalaus followed his intent, the King gave his horse such a blow over the face, as by rearing up, he fell down backward, yet the Knight recovered himself, and Galaor seeing one fight with the King, came to assist him, when snatching off his Helmet, he would have smitten his head from his shoulders: but the King would not suffer him, saying, he should live and die a thief. The two Cousins, who were named Don Guilan & Ladasin, pursued an other Knight, whom they slew, & returning back again, they knew the King, which struck them into no little marvel, because they heard nothing of his misfortune: then alighting from their horses, they took off their helmets & did him reverence, when he knowing them right well, embraced them in his arms, saying. My friends, you have succoured me in a needful time, for which I may live to requite you with thanks: yet have you wronged me by your absence from the Court, and for your love to each other I lost you both, especially, you Lord Guilan, your mind being elsewhere, made you forget me. These words caused a modest blush in Don Guilan, because the King deciphered his love, which was the Duchess of Bristoya, who was not one jot behind him in affection: as well witnessed the good entertainment she gave him, tasting together the fruit of their contentment. Which the Duke so doubted, and daily conceived such suspicion thereof, as it procured the injury was done to Galaor, when the Dwarf espied him in the Garden, at his return from fair Aldena, whereby the damosel was in danger of burning, as the history héertofore hath declared to you.  
But while the King thus communed with Don Guilan, Galaor had gotten the Nephew of Arcalaus beside his horse, and tied the chain about his neck the King was bound withal: then taking the best horses belonged to the dead Knights, they road toward London. And by the way, Ladasin recounted to the King, how he contended with Galaor for riding so fast, offering him the combat which he refused, because he would delay no time for his succour: which caused the King to requite him with many thanks, that he could so well forbear in a case of such necessity. But my Lord, quoth Don kuilan, my hap was more hard, for by thinking on her, who oftentimes makes me forget myself, a Knight encountered with me, and by force of his Lance, cast me from my saddle. In sooth, answered the King, I have heard talk of many lovers, and what they enterprise for their Ladies, yet never of any folly comparable to yours: which giveth me good cause to conjecture, that you were not in vain named Guilan the pensive, for you are the greatest muser I ever heard of. As thus they beguiled the time, they arrived at the house of Lad●sin, which was not far thence, whether soon after came galaor's Squire, and Dardan the Dwarf, who thought his master had taken that way. Then did Galaor tell the King, how his brother Amadis was gone to rescue his daughter, and in what manner they heard of their separation by the poor labourers, wherefore he advised him to send speedily to London, lest his mishap being published in the City, might raise some commotion among the people. Credit me, quoth the King, seeing Amadis undertook to follow my daughter, I will not as yet account her lost, if the traitor Arcalaus work no new villainy by his enchantments: but as concerning my happy deliverance, I like well that my Queen should understand thereof. Whereupon Ladasin called a Squire, whom the King presently sent to the Court as Galaor advised. After they had well refreshed themselves, they were conducted to their chambers, and on the morrow set forward on their journey, the King communing with the Nephew of Arcalaus, as concerning the enterprise of his kinsman: which made him reveal the whole determination, and how Barsinan was in hope to be King of great Britain. Hereupon the King concluded to make the more haste, thinking to find Barsinan as yet at London, and to punish him for his audacious presumption.   

CHAP. XXXVIII. ¶ How news came to the Queen that the King was taken: And how Barsinan laboured to usurp the City of Landon.  
IF you have well noted the former discourse, you may easily remember, how the poor labouring men, (not knowing the King and Oriana) seeing how injuriously they were entreated by Arcalaus and his complices, were glad to hide themselves in the wood: in like manner, how afterward they understood by Amadis and Galaor, that the prisoners were King Lisuarts & his daughters. whereupon, so soon as the two Knights were parted from them, they hasted to report these news in London: which caused such a murmuring through the City, especially among the Knights, as they presently Armed themselves, and mounted on horseback in such troops, that the fields were quickly covered with men and horses. At this time was King Arban of Norgalles talking with the Queen, little thinking on any such misfortune: when one of his Squires bringing his Armour, said. My Lord, you tarry here trifling too long, arm yourself quickly and follow the rest, who by this time have gotten so far as the Forest. What is the matter answered King Arban. Ah my Lord, quoth the Squire, news is brought to the City, how certain villains have carried the King away prisoner. Prisoner? replied King Arban, may it be possible? Too true my Lord, answered the Squire. When the Queen heard these unhappy tidings, not able to undergo so great an oppression, she fell down in a swoon: but King Arban having more mind on the King, left her in her ladies arms, hasting with all speed he could to horseback. When he was setting foot in stirrup, he heard the alarm sounded, and the assault which Barsinan gave to the Castle, whereby he gathered they were betrayed: wherefore he caused the queens lodging to be guarded, and returning to the City, saw every one ready in Arms, when choosing so many as he pleased, as also two hundred well approved Knights, he sent two of the chiefest to the Tower of London, to understand the cause of the alarm. To them it was reported, how Barsinan had forcibly entered with his train, killing and casting over the walls all that he met. Herein he followed the message of the Page from Arcalaus, finding very slender resistance: for most part of the Knights and men of account, were gone to secure the King. Highly displeased was King Arban at these news, persuading himself the King had been betrayed, wherefore to prevent such other inconveniences as might happen, he dorayned his men in battle, placing good watch about the queens lodging. And thither Barsinan now prepared, hoping to take her as he had done the Tower: but he met with stronger resist than he expected, and the skirmishes proceeding on either side, Barsinan took a prisoner, by whom he was advertised, how King Arban would withstand him even to the death. Now began he to devise, how by fair speech and falsehood he might take the King, craving a parley with him, whereto King Arban willingly agreed, and silence being made on both sides, Barsinan began in this manner.  
I ever thought till now my Lord, that you were one of the best advised Knights in the world, but by proof I perceive a man may find the contrary: yet this I think withal, that what you do, is for safety of your honour. Herein you appear of simple judgement, considering in the end, it will be but the loss of you and your men: in respect King Lisuart your late Lord is dead, for proof whereof, even he that slew him, will ere long send me his head. Sith Fortune then hath dealt so hardly with him, and I at this instant am the greatest Lord in this Country: dare you deny to make me King? Alas, you abuse yourself, the best will be for you, to yield yourself lovingly, and I shall entreat you so well as any Prince in my Realm: suffering you still to enjoy the Country of Norgalles, and particularly beside will so honour you, as you shall have great reason to be content. Avaunt villain, answered King Arban, full well dost thou manifest thy horrible treason: for beside thy treachery in compacting the death of my Lord, thou wouldst have me become a traitor to his friends, as thou thyself hast proved. Thou art deceived, do the worst thou canst: thy villainy only will take vengeance on thee according to desert, with such good help as we will put thereto. What? said Barsinan, thinkest thou to hinder me from sitting as King in London? Never shall traitor, replied Arban, be King of London, by God's leave, while the most honourable King of the world liveth. I called for thee, quoth Barsinan, in respect of thine own good, because I favoured thee more than any other, imagining thou wert of sound discretion: but (as I have said) I find myself deceived, wherefore reason requireth, that thy overweening should fall, and (in despite of thee) I will reign King in great Britain. Assure thyself, answered Arban, I will keep thee from such climbing, as if the King my Master were here personally present. Then began the assault afresh, King Arban withdrawing himself to harden his men, being marvelously offended at Barsinans words. Now though he were very sharply assailed, yet stood he bravely on his defence, many being slain and sore wounded: nevertheless, he was evermore foremost in the fight, and last at the retreat, which was caused by the night ensuing. Nor need we doubt, considering the puissance of Barsinan, and the few on the contrary side, but King Arban would take his advantage in resistance, by compelling them to the narrow streets, where four on a side could hardly deal together, which turned to the great disadvantage of Barsinan, because Arban well fortified every place in good order, and with fresh supply still encouraged his men.  
The retreat being sounded, & either side withdrawn, King Arban seeing his Soldiers sore wearied, by the hot skirmishes they had endured: as is the office of a good Captain indeed, he came and comforted them in this manner. My loving companions and friends, this day have you so worthily fought, as none of you but deserveth estimation, among the most forward men in the world, and having begun so well, I hope you will proceed better and better. Remember the cause of your fight, not only to maintain your good King, but your own liberty: against a tyrant, a traitor, and what worse? who would buy his usurping in this Kingdom, with the blood of you, your wives and children. Saw you not how he used them he took in the Tower? Behold you not the end of his purpose? which is to ruinated this noble Realm, that hath (by divine providence) been so long time preserved, and evermore continued in reputation, flourishing with loyal subjects to their Prince? Herd you not the flattering persuasions, which the Rebel used before the assault, thinking to conquer us by his golden tongue? In vain is his labour, I am right well assured, that no one of you but will die a thousand deaths, before he shall conceive any other mind in you. I see by your resolved countenances, if I should think or say otherwise, I were a monstrous offender: for if he have more men than we, we have more hearts of courage than he, which forbiddeth all occasions of dismaying, setting before your eyes, the famous account you shall live in hereafter. By their looks you might discern at their retire, how unwilling they will be to try you again: and respect not the traitorous words of Barsinan, our King liveth, and will right speedily come to secure us. In mean while I entreat as my friendly companions, let nothing dismay your hope, but continue as you gave begun: with this famous resolution, that it is more honourable to die for liberty, then to enjoy a life by thraldom and slavery, under a wicked, injurious, and traitorous Prince. When the King had ended his oration, there was no one in the company, how sore hurt soever he was, but would courageously encounter Barsinans power, and bid him bravely good morrow the next day in the Tower: wherewith the King not a little contented, returned to the Queen's lodging, his face covered with sweat, and his Armour all bloody, by reason of five wounds he received in fight. The Ladies seeing him in such piteous plight, were marvelously abashed, especially the Queen, who well-near dead with grief and fear together, then as a woman in midst of despair, she said: Alas dear Nephew what shall we do? we are all but dead. Madame, answered King Arban, all will go well if God be pleased, in vain do you thus discomfort yourself, for I hope to hear good tidings of the King: and the traitors that seek to usurp his Kingdom, by your good and loyal subjects shall receive deserved punishment. God grant it, quoth she, but you are so wounded, as I think it impossible for you to be at the battle, if Barsinan come to morrow again, nor can our men do any thing without you. Be not you troubled therewith Madame, replied King Arban, for while my soul sucks her spirit from the air, I will not forsake my charge. So bidding her good night, he went to have his wounds dressed, and afterwards turned to his Soldiers, merrily passing the night among them.  
Barsinan on the other side, got into the Tower of London which he had won, and numbering his men, found that his power was greatly weakened: yet would he make no show thereof for dismaying the rest, but showing a dissembling countenance, thus spoke to them. My friends, it sufficeth that I have shown mine enemies what you are, and they (if I think good) to stand at my mercy: wherefore I am determined (without any further loss of you) to rest ourselves five or six days, till Arcalaus send me the head of King Lisuart, and then the sight thereof, will make them not dare to resist me any longer, but in hope of favour will yield themselves. Each of you therefore rejoice and be of good cheer, for when I am King, right richly will I reward you all. So went they to rest till the next morning, when Barsinan (being armed) mounted on horseback, with twenty Knights in his company, and came to a Port which one of King Arbans Knights kept, who seeing this troop, presently sounded an alarm. But Barsinan sent him word, how he came to parley only, and desired truce beside for six hours: whereof King Arban was immediately advertised, who granted the truce Barsinan required, and likewise for five days. Conditionally, that he should offer no violence to any house in the City, or practise any entrance during the limited time: beside, if the King returned in that space, the difference should be left to his disposition. Barsinan was contented with these conditions, because he accounted King Lisuarts death certain, whereupon he said to Arban. I hope this little truce, will be an entrance into a perpetual peace between us: for I dare assure ye, King Lisuart is dead, and his Daughter must be my Wife, as within these five days ensuing you shall evidently see. What? quoth King Arban, thou hast then put him to death: and couldst thou deal so traitorously with him, that gave thee such honourable entertainment in his Court? rather will I presently die, then continue one hour of peace with thee, get thee gone therefore quickly, or I will send thee hence in pieces. Is it true? quoth Barsinan, well mayst thou threaten me, but it is in me to make thee repent it. Thus returned he to his Soldiers, acquainting them with his honest offers to King Arban, and the audacious answer he returned for them.   

CHAP. XXXIX. ¶ How Amadis came to the succour of the City of London, when it was in this distress.  
NOt long ago we left Amadis in the wood, familiarly devising with the Princess Oriana, thinking on nothing but their sweet contentation: and among other discourse, Amadis entreated her to tell him, what speeches Arcalaus had with her by the way. On my faith Sir, quoth she, he confounded my senses with persuading me to rejoice, saying: Before five days were expired, I should reign as Queen in great Britain, enjoying Barsinan to my husband: himself likewise should be chief governor, and master of his house, in recompense of the services he did for him, in giving him my father's head, and me to be his wife. Ah heavens, said Amadis, what treason is this in Barsinan, who showed himself such a friend to the King? God shield he do no wrong to the Queen. In sooth I greatly doubt it, replied Oriana, it were good therefore we hasted to see. With all my heart, quoth Amadis: so mounting on horseback, they road toward London, meeting many Knights by the way that followed the King, whom still he directed in their course, certifying them that Galaor was gone likewise in his search. Within a while after, Oriana espied Don Grumedan an ancient Knight of honour to the Queen, and twenty Knights more with him, who all that night had searched the Forest for the King: but when he saw her, the tears stood in his eyes with joy, desiring to hear some news of the King her father. Credit me Sir, quoth she, not far from the City were we sundered, when God ordained so well for me, that Amadis delivered me from the villains, and ransomed me with the price of their lives. They were unwise to resist, said Grumedan, when you had so good a champion: but I pray you my Lord, what is become of your brother? Even in the same place, answered Amadis, where they separated the father from the daughter: we severed ourselves, he posting after the King, and I followed Arcalaus, who led away Madame Oriana. The better hope have I of his succour, quoth Grumedan, seeing so good a Knight hath taken it in hand. Hereupon, Amadis told him the horrible treason of Arcalaus and Barsinan: Let me therefore entreat ye, quoth he, to conduct the Princess leasurably after, while I make haste before least the Queen be distressed, because I doubt the traitor will offer her injury. I think it likewise expedient, that you cause all the Knights to return you meet withal: for if the King should be rescued by multitude of men, there is enough before already, and more than needs. So leaving his Lady with Don Grumedan, he made all the haste he could toward London, overtaking the Squire by the way that came from the King, who told him all the news of his deliverance, which was no little joy to Amadis, hearing the fortunate success of his brother Galaor. There met he with an other likewise, who made report of Barsinans dealings at London, wherefore entering the City so covertly as he might, the first he met withal was King Arban, of whom he was lovingly embraced and welcomed, with request of what news he brought. None but good, answered Amadis, and such as you are desirous to hear: but because I doubt the Queen is scant merry, let us go see her, for happily she will be glad of our coming. So road they to the Court together, Amadis still keeping the Squire with him that came from the King, and when they entered the queens presence, Amadis falling on his knee, began in this manner. Madame, this Gentleman left the King well this morning, and at liberty, whereof his Majesty certifieth you by him: myself likewise (not long since) left your Daughter with Don Grumedan, and very shortly they will be with you. But because I understand that Barsinan mollesteth you with treachery, suffer us I pray you to go see what he can do. When the Queen heard these joyful tidings, her inward content took away the liberty of her speech, nor could she do any thing but lift her hands and eyes to heaven, applauding his name from whom this good proceeded, and by gestures delivering some sign of thanks to Amadis. At length, having overcome this delightful passion, and intending to question further concerning these news: the alarm was sounded, wherefore King Arban & Amadis hied to the bars, where they found Barsinans men giving an eager charge, as hoping to conquer the contrary part. But Amadis thrusting himself foremost, caused the bars to be taken down, and accompanied with King Arban, broke in courageously upon the enemy, a noble precedent to their soldiers, who being cheered by this onset, took heart and followed. Now waxed the skirmish to be hot indeed, so that on both sides very many were slain, which Barsinan perceiving, and trusting in his multitude to suppress the weaker part, came foremost himself in person, thinking (now he saw the bars open) to drive his adversaries back again into the City. When Amadis noted his forwardness, he stepped back, and changed his Crest and shield with a simple mercenary Soldier: yet reserving his Lance, which with a strong career pierced through his Armour, and wounding Barsinan, broke in pieces in his flesh. Then drawing his Sword, he gave him such a stroke on the Helmet, as he was astonied therewith, and redoubling his blow, cut his right arm quite from his shoulder: when Barsinan (feeling him so wounded) would have retired back, to save himself by the speed of his horse, but he fell to the ground as deprived of his senses. Wherefore Amadis left him, and set upon the rest, who being unable to endure these hot assaults, likewise beholding their Lord dismounted: took themselves to flight for safety of their lives, yet were they so closely followed, as the most part of them were slain in the field, and some few of them escaped into the Tower, causing the bridge to be quickly drawn up after them. Hereupon Amadis returned where he left Barsinan, and because he was not yet dead, commanded he should be carried to the queens lodging, there to be kept till the King's return: and as he would have put up his Sword, he saw it soiled with blood, wherefore in wiping it, he said. Thou trusty Sword, in a happy hour was the Knight borne to whom thou belongest: and as thou art one of the best in the world, so is thy Master the most virtuous Prince living. He used these words, because it appertained to King Lisuart, and was sent him from the Queen by Gandalin, as you heard before: but now returns he with King Arban to the queens lodging, to comfort her with news of this happy victory.  
All this while the King is hasting toward London, giving order to return all the Knights he met by the way, among whom were Agraies, Galuanes, Solivan, Galdan, Dinadaus and Bernas: all which were highly in the King's favour, as men of virtue and no small deserving, and his Majesty having embraced them, said. My noble good friends, you had almost lost me, but God be thanked, you have recovered me again, by the help of these three worthy Knights, Galaor, Guilan and Ladasin. In soothe my Lord, answered Dinadaus, so soon as your mishap was known in the City, each one prepared to bring you secure. I know my good Nephew, quoth the King, that I am greatly beholding to you all: but I pray you take good store of these Knights, and post with speed to assist the Queen, for I doubt she is in no little danger. This Dinadaus was one of the best Knights of the King's lineage, and well esteemed among men of account, as well in respect of his virtues, as also his brave behaviour in chivalry: so according to the kings command, he road away presently very bravely accompanied. The King likewise followed an indifferent pace, lest his Nephew should stand in need of help, and by the way he overtook Don Grumedan with his daughter Oriana, how joyful his meeting was you may easily conceive, that the separation was not so grievous, but this was as gladsome. Grumedan told his Majesty, how Amadis left the Princess with him, while he road before to assist the Queen: thus with repetition of many matters, they beguiled the time till they arrived at London, where he understood the success of Barsinans enterprise, and how valiantly King Arban had resisted him, not forgetting the worthy behaviour of Amadis, in taking him prisoner and discomfiting his men, except a few that saved themselves in the Tower. Here would it ask a world of time, to report the joy, pleasure, and contentment between the King and Queen at their meeting, likewise the Mother's comfort having recovered her Daughter again: but as your judgements can better conceive than I set down, matter above the reach of common capacity, so do I leave it to you, and proceed to the King. Who to terrify the traitors thus gotten into hold, besieged them severelly, and to dishearten them the more, brought Barsinan & Arcalaus Nephew before the walls, where before all the people they confessed their treason. Which being done, a great fire was made, wherein they were alive consumed, but when they in the Tower beheld this spectackle, and that they were in great want of victuals, they yielded themselves to the kings mercy, the most part of them being (for examples sake) hanged on the battlements, and the rest set at liberty upon humble submission. Yet this matter bred great trouble afterward, between them of great Britain and Sansuegua: for the Son of Barsinan being a good Knight, vexed King Lisuart with contagious war, as the History hereafter at large is mentioned.  
After the King had escaped these misfortunes, the former joys and pastimes began again: during which time, the Lady and her two Sons, (the messengers of Madasima, who were witnesses when Galaor and Amadis promised to forsake King Lisuarts service) arrived at the Court. When the two Princes were advertised thereof, they went and friendly entertained her, she saying: Gentlemen you know the cause of my coming, are you determined to keep your promise? We are, quoth they, and will not break our covenant with Madasima, but presently will perform it before the King. Entering the great hall, the Lady fell on her knees before his Majesty, delivering these speeches. My Lord, I am come to your Court, to see if these two Knights will observe a covenant, which in my presence they made to a Lady. What was it? answered the King. A matter that will scant like you, quoth the Lady, or any such as bear you affection: and thereto she added the whole circumstance. Whereat the King waxing some what offended, told Galaor that he had very much wronged him. My Lord, replied Galaor, it was better to do so, then be treacherously slain, for had we been known, neither you or all the world could have saved our lives: but let not your Majesty be offended, for the remedy shall be more ready than you expect. In accomplishing my promise to Madasima of Gantasi, my Lord I take my leave of you, departing altogether from your service: certifying you, that it is her will to do you this displeasure, and worse if she could compass it, for the extreme malice she beareth to you. Amadis affirmed what his brother had done, than Galaor turning to the Lady and her two Sons, said. Have we not now accomplished our promise? Yes truly, quoth the Lady, we must needs avouch so much. You may then return when you please, answered Galaor, but tell Madasima, she did not so much as she wéened, as you may perceive by the present effect. Now my Lord, quoth he to the King, we have fulfilled our promise to Madasima, and because in granting her earnest desire, the time was not limited how long we should leave your service: we may enter thereinto again when you please to command, so that we are yours as faithful as before, When the King and all that were present heard what had passed, they rejoiced exceedingly, esteeming Galaor and Amadis well advised herein, whereupon the King thus spoke to the Lady. According to her great treason under shadow of good meaning, they are bound to no more than they have accomplished: for to deceive the deceiver is no deceit. And say to Madasima, seeing she hateth me so unreasonably, she once had them in her power, who might have grieved me all my life time: but God having in other places delivered me from many perils, will not suffer me to perish by so bad a woman as she is. I desire ye my Lord, quoth she, to tell me their names. The one is Amadis, answered the King, and the other his brother Galaor. May it be possible, said the Lady, that Madasima had Amadis in her power? Credit me, quoth the King, I have told ye truth. Their fortune was good, replied the Lady, for they might not have escaped if she had known them: and in sooth the deed might be reckoned ominous, if two such worthy persons had perished. Yet when she shall know hereof, said the King, I think she will forbear to wrong me any further. With that the Lady took her leave, shaping her course the same way she came.   

CHAP. XL. ¶ How King Lisuart held open Court in the City of London many days, in which time, sundry great personages were there feasted, the greater part whereof remained there long time afterward.  
Twelve days together (after these mishaps) did King Lisuart continue his Court in all magnificence, many noble personages being there assembled, as well strangers as other, hoping now to make little stay but to return home to their own houses: yet the greater part of them abode with the King, in like manner did sundry worthy Ladies accompany the Queen. Among other Knights attending on the King, were Don Guilan the pensive, and his Cousin Ladasin, who (as I have said) were very good Knights: but Guilan was the better of the twain, for very few were found in the Realm of great Britain, that carried more account for deeds of Arms, and all other graces beseeming a Knight, setting aside his musing and melancholy. By means whereof, few or none could be pleasant with him, or have any words from him in company: but love procured these extremes, busying his thoughts in such sort with his Lady, as he had mind of none but her. And she of whom we speak, was endued with singular beauty, being named Brandalisia, sister to the kings wife of Sobradisa, and joined in marriage with the Duke of Bristoya: who now was arrived at the Court, to answer the accusation Oliuas laid against him. The King gave him very gentle welcome, and being in the presence of many great Lords, the Duke began in this manner. Sir, you have commanded my appearance here this day, to justify myself before your Majesty, concerning a crime Oliuas chargeth me withal: whereof I hope sufficiently to clear myself, by the rightful judgement yourself shall give, & he rest condemned like a varlet as he is: for here am I ready to approve against him, or any other he shall bring, that I never committed treason or so foul a deed. At these words Oliuas arose, & with him a great number of Knights errant, all resolved to maintain this quarrel against the Duke: when the King beheld them in such a mutiny, he marveled whence the cause should proceed, when Grumedan speaking for all the rest, said. My Lord, because the Duke of Bristoya hath threatened and defied all Knights errant, we are ready to answer his challenge. In good faith, answered the King, if it be so? he hath attempted an overfond war, for I think there is no King in the world so puissant, that will be induced to such an enterprise. But forbear at this time, and offer him no injury, because he is here to receive justice: which shall be done, according to the council of the Princes and Lords present, without favouring any one. Then Oliuas falling on his knee before the King, began in this wanner. My Lord, the Duke who standeth before your Majesty, hath slain a Cousin germane of mine, he never giving him occasion of offence: wherefore I will justify him to be a villain and a traitor, and will make him confess it with his own mouth, else shall I kill him and cast him forth of the field. The Duke told him he lied, and he was ready to accomplish what the King and his Court should ordain: whereupon it was determined, that this emulation should be decided by combat, which the Duke accepted, desiring the King to permit him and his two Nephews in this cause, against Oliuas and two other Knights. This being granted, the Duke was very glad thereof, for he made such account of his kinsmen, as he thought Oliuas could not bring their like: notwithstanding, all was deferred till the morrow following.  
In mean while, Don Galuanes asked his Nephew Agraies, if he would assist Oliuas against the Duke, and he consenting thereto, Galuanes came to Oliuas, saying. Sir Oliuas, seeing the Duke is desirous to fight three against three, my Nephew and I are determined to take your part: which when the Duke heard, he remembered that he had defied them in his own house, when Agraies combated with the dwarfs champion, at what time the damosel should have been burned, wherefore he became very pensive, in respect though he esteemed his nephews approved good Knights, yet he repent his wilful offer, and gladly would have excused the matter if he could, being too well acquainted with the behaviour of Galuanes and Agraies. But considering his promise passed before the King, and so many noble personages there present, he must of necessity stand thereto: wherefore the next morning he entered the Lysties with his Nephews, and Oliuas on the contrary side with his copartners. Now were the Ladies standing at the windows, to behold the issue of this quarrel, and among the rest stood Olivia the fair friend to Agraies, who seeing him ready to enter such peril, was so dismayed, as she could scant tell what countenance to use. By her stood Mabila, she being in no less grief for her Uncle and Brother together: likewise the Princess Oriana, loving them both, in respect of the reasons heretofore declared, accompanied the two Ladies in sorrow, fearing their danger: but the Knights being ready to the combat, the King by a Herald commanded the Champions to do their devoir. Hereupon, with a brave career they encountered together, Agraies and Galuanes unhorssing the two Nephews, and albeit Oliuas received a wound on the stomach, yet had not the Duke caught hold about his horse neck, his fortune had proved as bad as his Nephews. Then drawing their Swords, they smote so violently against each other, as the standers by wundered at their fierceness: beholding their shields defaced, their Armour battered and coullered with their blood, that the victory hung a long time in suspense. For Agraies horse being slain under him, brought his life into marvelous hazard, because the Duke and one of his Nephews strove to keep him down, seeking to thrust their Swords into his belly, or else to smite his head from his shoulders: but he was so well armed, and of such courage withal, as he held them both play though with exceeding peril. Well you may think, that his friends grieved to see him in this distress, especially the three Ladies, of whom we spoke so lately, whose cheeks were bedewed with whole fountains of tears, and woeful Olivia seemed rather dead then living. But had he long continued in this extremity, her latest hour must needs have ensued, yet at length he recovered himself, charging the Duke and his Nephew with such puissant strokes, as well declared his hardy courage. Oliuas all this while was in such case, by reason of the sore wound the Duke gave him, that he could hardly defend himself: which the Duke perceiving, he left his Nephew with Agraies, and assailing Oliuas very roughly, made him fall down in a great astonishment. But as he would have slain him, Agraies stepped between them, (having already dispatched his enemy of his head) and hindered the Duke from his determination, wounding him in many places on his body, that he could scant tell which way to turn him. Don Galuanes likewise having slain the other Nephew, came to assist Agraies against the Duke, who seeing his life at the latest exigent, turned his horse to escape away: but Agraies gave him such a stroke on the Helmet, as he fell beside his saddle, with one of his feet hanging in the stirrup, when the horse being at liberty, feeling his burden hang on the one side, ran flinging up and down, none being able to rescue the Duke, till his neck was broken with dragging along. Hereupon Agraies left him, returning to his Uncle to know how he fared. Very well I thank God, answered Galuanes, but it grieveth me that Oliuas is dead, for he lieth still and moveth not. Right sorry likewise was Agraies to hear these words, wherefore commanding the Duke and his nephews bodies to be thrown forth of the field, they came both to Oliuas, and finding him alive, as also his wounds not to be mortal, they bond them up so well as they could, saying. Friend Oliuas, be of good cheer, for though you have lost very much blood, yet doubt we not of your health, because we find little danger in your hurts. Alas my Lords, quoth Oliuas, my heart fainteth, and albeit I have been héertofore wounded, yet never was I in such debility. Then the King desired to know whether he were dead or no, and when it was told him, how he wanted nothing but speedy cure: he commanded him to be honourably carried into the City, and his own chirurgeons to attend on his health, even as it were his own person: which they did, promising, to deliver him well again within few days.  
Thus every one returned, disputing diversly on the end of the Combat, and according to their particular affections, so that soon after, the Queen (who was one of the best Ladies in the world) was advised to send for the wife to the deceased Duke, that in the Court she might wear away the cause of her melancholy: and to dispatch this business she sent Don Grumedan to her, requesting she would bring her Niece Aldena with her, whereof Galuanes was not a little glad, especially Don Guilan, who was the friend and beloved of the Duchess. Not long after, she and her Niece arrived at the Court, where they were right nobly feasted and entertained. Thus the King spent the time in the City of London, accompanied with many great Lords, Knights and Ladies, because the same was blazed through the world, of his honourable courtesy to strange Knights: which drew an exceeding number to his Court, whom he rewarded very bountifully, hoping (by their means) not only to confirm his Realm in peace, but likewise to conquer other, which sometime had been subject and tributary to his Crown, yet through the pusillanimity and negligence of the Kings his predecessors, were lost and discontinued their former obedience.   

CHAP. XLI. ¶ How Amadis determined to go combat with Abiseos and his two Sons, to revenge the King's death, who was Father to the fair Briolania, and of that which followed.  
Heretofore it hath been declared, how Amadis being with Briolania, promised to revenge the King her Father's death, against Abiseos and his two Sons, which in one year after he should perform, being accompanied with two other Knights. Also how when he took his leave of her, she gave him a Sword, because his own was broken, desiring him to wear it for her sake: which Sword was afterward broken at the ladies Castle, who was the beloved of Angriote d' Estravaus, when he combated with Gasinan, and commanded Gandalin to bring away the pieces thereof: which occasioned great harm not long after, not by any fault in him, but by the indiscretion of Dardan the Dwarf, who imagined his master loved the fair Briolania, in respect he offered himself to be her Knight.  
One day therefore, Amadis being with King Lisuart, evermore delighting with his Lady Oriana, to the no little contentation of them both: Love, who oftentimes provoketh his subjects, would no longer continue them in so great ease, but raise some cinders of division, whereby they might receive discontentment. For this cause he made Amadis remember his promise to Briolania, that he should combat against Abiseos within one year, the end whereof was now at hand: & being loath to fail therein, he sought all convenient means to take his leave of the Princess Oriana, determining to acquaint her with the whole cause, in what sort Briolania was disinherited of her Father's Kingdom. Such were his discourses on her behalf, that although Oriana was loath to grant what he demanded, or to permit his absence from her: yet being overcome with compassion, she restrained her will, and in midst of her sorrow, said: Dear friend, I know well that your speeches are reasonable, but the wrong you do me alloweth no excuse: yet in respect I love ye, as you are well assured, it is convenient I should prefer your honour before mine own pleasure. You have promised (as you tell me) to secure a disinherited Lady, I am content, seeing there is no other remedy, though my consent be with greater grief than you ween: for my mind is persuaded, some mischief will happen to me by this voyage. Madame, answered Amadis, unwilling am I to give you any occasion of dislike, or to attempt any thing against your mind, rather could I wish never to have been borne: let Briolania then pardon my tarrying, for I hold myself sufficiently excused, seeing my departure is not agreeable to you. Not so sweet friend, replied Oriana, I am willing you shall go: but make a speedy return I pray you. With twenty kisses was this separation sealed, and she desired him to acquaint the Queen therewith, that this journey might be shadowed under her commandment: which he did, and on the morrow departed with Galaor & Agraies, when they had not ridden past half a mile, but he asked Gandalin, if he had brought with him the pieces of the sword, that Briolania gave him when he left her. No my Lord, answered Gandalin. Return then, quoth Amadis to the Dwarf, and when thou hast them, make what speed thou canst to overtake us. Alas, had he but misdoubted the mishap followed hereon, he never would have sent such a messenger: for by his reckless speeches, he endangered the lives of Amadis and Oriana together, as shall hereafter be largely described.  
Gon is the Dwarf to his masters lodging, and finding the pieces of the Sword, in the place where Gandalin had directed him, returned hastily toward his Master: but passing by the queens lodging, he heard one call him, when looking about, he espied the Princess Oriana and Mabila, who demanded wherefore he had left Amadis. Madame, quoth he, I have not been so long from him, but I can quickly overtake him: for this which I carry, will let him make no great haste till I come. What is it? said Oriana. What? answered the Dwarf, I can assure ye Madame, he prizeth them more than they be worth, for her sake that gave him the Sword. What is she? quoth Oriana. The Lady, replied the Dwarf, for whom he now undertakes the combat. And though you be daughter to the best King in the world, as also fairer (in mine opinion) than any other: yet rather should you have gained her conquest, than all the wealth in this kingdom. I know not what thou meanest said Oriana, unless thy master have given himself to her? You have guessed right Madame, answered the Dwarf, he is altogether at her commandment, thinking himself happy to be her Knight. So taking his leave, he posted to overtake his master, who little thought on these slanderous reports: but Oriana entered into such a jealousy, as without regard of any thing whatsoever, she would have cast herself forth at the window, had not Mabila and the damosel of Denmark stayed her. Now riseth frowning anger in her brows, and she to misconceive of the man, whose only desire was to do her service. With often wring her hands she calleth to remembrance, in what earnest affection he desired leave for this voyage, which augmented her suspicion of the dwarfs words: and in such sort was her heart shut up, as no tear might fall from her eyes, because those vapours were withdrawn to the most worthy place in her. Hereupon her torments redoubled in extremes, as Dido for the trumpery of Aeneas, or sad Medea, seeing herself forsaken of her friend jason, never felt like anguish: and in fatal fortune she would have succeeded them, but that she was hindered by them about her, who found the means to defend her from such mishap.  
By this time the Dwarf overtook Amadis and the rest, when they began to ride somewhat faster, Amadis not requiring any thing of him, nor he reciting what he told the Princess, but showed him the pieces of the Sword he brought. Nor far had they ridden, but they met a Damsel, who after she had saluted them, demanded whether they travailed, saying, she would advise them to forsake that way. Wherefore? answered Amadis. Because, quoth she, for the space of fifteen days, no Knight errant passed this way, but he hath been either wounded or slain. And who hath done them such displeasure? said Amadis. A Knight, answered the damosel, the most valiant man at Arms that ever was seen. I pray ye damosel, quoth Agraies, bring us where we may see him. You cannot ride far in this Forest, said she, but he will quickly show himself. So travail they on with the damosel, and long time they neither heard or saw any one, which made them think she spoke these words to fear them: yet soon after, Amadis espied the Knight, who seemed a man of goodly stature, and ready prepared for the combat. As he and his companions stood beholding him, they saw him speak to a Squire, who reared four Lances against a tree, and afterward came to them, saying. Gentlemen, my Master giveth you to understand, how during the space of fifteen days, he hath undertaken the guard of this Forest, in all which time his fortune hath been not to be vanquished by any one: and though it be a day and a half since his intended term is expired, yet stayeth he here till now for the pleasure he hath in jousting, and as he was departing hence, he espied you coming: wherefore he letteth you know, that if each of you will break a Lance, he careth not to try his fortune with you, provided, that the combat at the sword be spared, because he seldom proceedeth so far without doing more harm then willingly he would. When Agraies heard this message, he took his Arms, returning this answer: Friend, go tell thy master I am content to try the joust with him. Hereupon, he gave the Spurs to his horse, and the Knight seeing him coming, gave forth to meet him, their Lances being broken in the encounter: but Agraies was easily cast from his horse, of which foil he could not but be ashamed. Galaor beholding his Cousin dismounted, determined to revenge his wrong, bidding the Knight to prepare himself, who taking an other Lance, ran against Galaor with such fury, as after their staves were broken, their bodies met together so vehemently, that galaor's horse being more feeble than the other, fell down with his master on his back, but the Prince not recovering himself, was left on the ground, when the horse arose, and ran about the field, as the other of Agraies did. Amadis abashed at these accidents, preparing himself, said to the Knight. I know not what thou art, but thou mayst vaunt, that thou hast dismounted two approved good Knights. So couching his Lance, proceeded forward, but Galaor stayed him, calling the Knight to the combat, which made Amadis thus to answer. Brother, find not yourself aggrieved with him, because he sent us word before the joust, that he would not combat with the Sword: but I hope to take revenge for all. Herewith they encountered valiantly together, breaking their Lances so courageously, and meeting with their bodies so violently, as Amadis was thrown to the earth, his horses shoulder being broken in the fall: in like manner was the Knight dismounted, but keeping the reins of his bridle in his hand, he quickly mounted on horseback again, when Amadis thus spoke to him. We must try one course more, if thou wilt have the honour, for as yet it is not won, because we both were unhorsed. I will not now joust any more, answered the Knight. Then you do me wrong, replied Amadis. Redress it if you can, said the Knight: for according to my order before the joust, I am bound to no more than what I have done. After these words, he galloped away through the Forest so fast as he could, which when Amadis and his companions saw, they being all on foot: they stood as men ashamed, for they could not imagine what he was that had thus entreated them, where upon Amadis mounted on Gandalins horse, saying to his friends: Follow me if you please, for it would grieve me not to know the name of this Knight. In sooth, answered the damosel, it were the greatest folly in you, above all the Knights belonging to King Lisuart, to think you can find him in one whole year, unless you be directly guided. Fair damosel, said Galaor, it may be you know what he is, and the place where he abideth. On my faith, quoth she, if I know any thing thereof, I mean not to tell it you: for never will I injury so good a Knight. damosel, replied Galaor, by the affection you bear to the thing you most love in the world, tell us I pray ye what you know in this matter. You conjure me in vain, quoth she, for never will I discover his affairs, except you deliver me some good present. Demand what you will, answered Amadis, and you shall have it, on condition you help us to find the Knight. I am content, replied the damosel, if first you will tell me your names, and afterward each of you grant me a boon, at what time I shall demand them of you. With all our hearts, quoth Amadis, as for our names, the one is Galaor, the other Agraies, and myself am Amadis. When the damosel heard this, she was very glad, saying: Certes my Lord, my journey is shortened, for I seek you. Then you have now found me, answered Amadis, what is your will with me? That you shall know, quoth she, when time serveth: but do you not remember the combat, which you promised to perform for the King of sobradisa's daughter, when she succoured you by means of the Lions? Yes that I do, said Amadis, and now am I riding toward her. Would you then, quoth the damosel, follow a Knight so hard to be found, and the time for the combat being nearer than you ween? She saith very well my Lord, answered Galaor, do you therefore and Agraies proceed on your journey, and I will seek the Knight with this damosel: for never shall I rest till I have found him, and if it be possible, I will be with you before you deal with Abiseos. Be it so, replied Amadis, but she promised us to tell his name, and where we may find him. His name, quoth the damosel, I cannot tell ye, for I know it not myself, and yet I have been a month with him, in which time I have seen him do such deeds of Arms, as without sight thereof I would never have credited: but where he now is, I can conduct him thither that will go with me. It is all I request, answered Galaor. Follow me then, quoth she: so taking their leave, they separated themselves.  
Thus Amadis and Agraies hold on their way, arriving within few days after at the Castle of Torin, where they found the fair Briolania, with the ancient Lady: but when Amadis beheld her, he found her marvelously changed, for if she were fair when he first saw her, she now seemed of such excellent perfection, as (except Oriana) he reputed her the most beautiful creature in the world, whereupon he said to Agraies. If nature was desirous to express her cunning in a creature, in this Lady she hath most sufficiently accomplished it. My Lord, quoth she, full long have we expected your coming, for in you consisteth our only hope. Madame, answered Amadis, by the help of God I trust you shall recover your loss, and we will do our uttermost therein. As thus they devised, they entered a fair chamber, where mantles were brought to wrap about them, and Briolania holp to unarm Amadis, for she could not be satisfied with beholding him, because she counted him the fairest knight that ever was seen, being now but twenty years of age. And so piercingly did he regard her, as long time after she waxed very amorous, so that when she had recovered her Kingdom, she wished him sole Lord of her and her country together, as shall hereafter be declared. But Amadis was elsewhere addicted, and gave sufficient proof to her, that the extreme anguishs he endured for his Oriana, were manifest examples of his steadfast loyalty. Neuer-the-lesse, the young Lord of Portugal pitying fair Briolania, would disguise this history in another manner, describing far otherwise the love of her and Amadis, which report is worthy of no credit. For he saith, that Briolania being restored into her Kingdom, providing for the health of Amadis and Agraies who were wounded, she continuing evermore amorous of Amadis, seeing by no means she could win him to be her friend: took aside the damosel, to whom Amadis, Galaor and Agraies made the several promises, at what time she conducted Galaor to the Knight that ious●ed with them in the Forest, and discovering the secrets of her heart to her, with abundance of tears and affectionate sighs, requested her council and remedy in these amorous passions. The damosel compassionate on her ladies sickness, promised to give her redress for it, whereupon she said to Amadis, that the boon she would desire of him, was his entrance into a Tower, from whence he should not departed, until he had begotten of Briolania a son or a daughter. Amadis willing to keep promise with the damosel, yielded thereto, yet without any will to touch Briolania: whereby he grew into such melanchollye, as he refused all bodily sustenance, and fell into such danger of his person, as every hour he expected death. Which being heard in the Court of King Lisuart, as also his deadly dangerous extremity: Oriana (loath to lose him) sent him word and licence, that he should do what the Lady requested. Whereupon Amadis considering he might no way else escape, and his gracious Mistress pitied him so much, he begat a son and a daughter of Briolania, whereof she was delivered at one labour: but this history is altogether false and feigned. It might be that Amadis was prisoner in the Tower, and Briolania beheld his daily pining away: but she desired the damosel to remit him this boon, on condition he should not depart till his brother Galaor returned, as willing to comfort herself with the sight of him, while she attended his brother's arrival: for Galaor espoused her afterward, as you shall read in the fourth book of this History. Let it then suffice at this time, that Amadis and Agraies sojourn certain days in the Castle, while all needful things were ready for their combat.   

CHAP. XLII. ¶ How Galaor went with the damosel after the Knight that dismounted him and his companions in the Forest, whom when he found, they combated together, and afterward in the sharpest point of their combat, they knew each other.  
Four days together, road Galaor with the damosel, seeking the Knight that unhorsed him in the Forest, for which he was so overcome with anger, as every Knight he met withal dearly felt it, because in combat many received their death. Then espying a fair Castle on the top of a high mountain, the damosel told him, there was no other place near where they might lodge that night, wherefore he being glad to accept thereof, they came to the Castle, finding many Gentlemen and Ladies sporting together, among whom was a Knight aged about thrée-score years, who taking Galaor by the hand, did him all the honour might be devised. My Lord, quoth Galaor, your courtesy to us is so great, that albeit we were determined to pass further on our way, yet for your sake we are content to stay with you this night. Then the Knight conducted Galaor into a fair chamber, leaving the Damsel among the other Ladies, & after the Prince was unarmed, the Knight spoke to him in this manner. Here Sir may you rest and take your ease, calling for any thing you stand in need of: for God knows I have used such entertainment not only to you, but to all Knights errant that passed this way, because sometime I have been as now you are. Yet hath nature given me two sons, whose only delight is in search of adventures, but now they lie sick in their beds, being cruelly wounded by a Knight, who with one Lance cast them both from their Saddles. But they were so ashamed at this foil, as they mounted again and pursued the Knight, overtaking him as he entered a Bark to pass the water, where my sons said to him, that in respect he had jousted so well, they would try his fortune in combat with the Sword, but the Knight made answer he could not now intent it, yet would they needs press him so far, as to hinder his entrance into the Bark. Whereupon a Lady being in his company said, they wronged her overmuch to stay her Knight: but they were not to depart, till he had combated with them at the Sword. Seeing it will be no otherwise, replied the Lady, he shall enter fight with the better of you both, on condition, that if he be conqueror, the other do forbear the combat. They answered, if the one were vanquished, the other would revenge his foil, which when the Knight heard, he was so angry: as he had them both come together, in respect they were importunate and would not rest contented. In the trial, one of my Sons sustained the worst, wherefore his brother seeing him in such peril, strove to rescue him from death: yet all was in vain, for the Knight handled them so roughly, as he left them like dead men in the field, and afterward passed away in the Bark. No sooner heard I of this mishap, but I sent for my sons, and home were they brought in this dangerous plight: but that you may give credit to my words, behold here their Armour cut and mangled, as I think the like strokes never came from any man's hand. Galaor marveling at this discourse, demanded what Arms the conquering Knight bare: when he was answered, his shield to be of vermilion colour, with two black Lions figured therein. By these tokens Galaor knew him, that it was the same man he travailed to find, which made him demand of his friendly host, if he had no further knowledge of the Knight. No verily Sir, quoth the ancient Gentleman. For this night, answered Galaor, let us take our rest, and to morrow I intent to seek the man you talk on. For already I have travailed four days in his search: but if I meet with him, I hope to revenge the injury of your sons, and other likewise whom he hath offended, or else it will cost the price of my life. I could rather wish, said the Knight, that leaving this perilous enterprise, you would take some other course, seeing my two sons have been so hardly entreated, their own wilful folly being cause thereof. So breaking off talk, Galaor took his rest till the next morning, when taking leave of the ancient Knight, he road away with the damosel, who brought him to the place of passage in the Bark: where crossing the water to the other side, they came to a very beautiful Castle, whether the Damsel road before, advising the Prince to stay her return. She tarried not long, but coming back again, brought another damosel with her of excellent beauty, and ten men beside all on horsseback: after the fair Gentlewoman had saluted Galaor, she said. Sir, this Damsel that came in your company telleth me, how you seek a Knight, who beareth two black Lions in a vermilion Shield, and are desirous to know his name: this is very certain, that you nor any other can find him for three years space, but only by force of Arms, a matter not so easy to be accomplished by you, for persuade yourself, his like is not to be found in all the Isles of great Britain. Lady, quoth Galaor, yet will I not give over his search, although he conceal himself in this sort: and if I meet with him, it shall like me better to combat with him, then to know my demand by any other way. Seeing then, answered the damosel, your desire is such, I will show you him within three days ensuing, for this Gentlewoman's sake, being my Cousin, who according to her promise hath earnestly entreated me. Galaor requited her with many thanks, and so they travailed on, arriving in the evening at an arm of the Sea, where they found a Bark ready for passage to a little Island, and certain Mariners in it, who made them all swear, if they had any more than one knight in their company. No credit me, replied the damosel: heerupon they set sail and away. Then Galaor demanded of the damosel, the reason why they took such an oath. Because, quoth she, the Lady of the Isle whether we go, hath so ordained it, that they shall let pass but one Knight at one time: and no other must they bring till his return, or credible intelligence of his death. What is he, said Galaor, that vanquisheth or killeth them? The self-same Knight you seek, answered the damosel, whom the Lady hath kept with her more than half a year, entirely loving him, and the cause of this affection proceeded from a Tourney, which not long since he maintained in this country, for the love of her and another fair Lady, whom the Knight (being a stranger here) conquered, defending her cause with whom he now is, and ever since she bore him such affection, as without grant of his love she would have died. Sometime he is desirous to seek after strange adventures, but then the Lady to detain him still in this place, causeth such Knights as come hither to pass one after another, against whom he combatteth, and not one hath yet returned un-vanquished: such as die in fight are there interred, and the foiled sent back again, despoiled of their horse and Arms, which the Knight presenteth to his Lady, she being one of the fairest creatures in the world, named Corisanda, and the Isle Bravisande. Know you not the cause▪ ●aide Galaor, wherefore the Knight went not many days since, to a Forest where I found him, and kept the passage there fifteen days together, against all such as travailed that way? Yes marry, quoth the damosel, he promised a boon to a Lady before he came hither, wehrfore she entreated him to keep the Forest for the space of fifteen days: yet hardly he got licence of his fair Mistress, who allowed him but a month to stay and return.  
By this time they were landed, and come before a goodly Castle, where stood a pillar of marble, with a horn hanging on it, which the Damsel bade him wind, & the Knight would come forth at the sound thereof. After he had given a good blast, certain Pages came forth of the Castle, who set up a Pavilion in the midst of the field, and six Ladies (soon after) came walking forth, one of them seeming by her gesture and countenance, to be commander of the rest, taking her place accordingly in the Tent. I marvel, said Galaor, the Knight tarrieth so long, I desire one of you to will the Lady send for him, because business else where of great importance, forbiddeth me to trifle time here in vain. One of the damsels fulfilled his request. What? answered Corisanda, maketh he so small account of our Knight? thinketh he so easily to escape from him? hath he such mind of other affairs, before he see the end of this attempt? indeed I think he shall return sooner than he expecteth, but with slender advantage for him to brag of: then calling a Page she said. Go, and bid the strange Knight come forth. The Page quickly did his message, and soon after, the Knight came forth one foot, being all armed except with his helmet, which was brought after him with his Lance, and another Page leading his Courser: when he came before his Lady, she said. Behold Sir, here is a brave Knight, who thinketh lightly to overcome you, and accounteth himself assured of the victory: I pray you let him know the price of his folly. After these words she kissed and embraced him, but Galaor noting all these mysteries, thought he tarried too long from the combat: at length the Knight being mounted, they prepared themselves to the career, and breaking their Lances in the encounter, were both wounded. Galaor presently drew his Sword, but the Knight entreated him to joust once more. With all my heart, replied Galaor, yet I am sorry my horse is not so good as yours, for if it were: I could be content not to give over, till one of us lay along on the ground, or all these Lances broken in pieces. The Knight made him no answer, but commanded a Squire to bring them other staves, and meeting together, galaor's horse was almost down: the Knight likewise lost his stirrups, being glad to catch hold by the main of his horse, whereat as one somewhat ashamed, he said to Galaor. You are desirous to combat with the sword, which I have deferred, not for any doubt of myself, but only to spare you, notwithstanding, we must needs now try the issue thereof. Do what you can, answered Galaor, I mean to be revenged for your kindness in the Forest. These words made the Knight soon to remember him, saying: You must do no more than you can, and happily before you depart hence, you may sustain a foil worse than the first. hereupon they fell to the combat, which began and continued with such fury, as the Ladies were driven into wonderful amazement, yea, themselves were abashed that they held out so long, having their Armour mangled, their shields defaced, their bodies sore wounded, and the blood streaming down upon their horses: Galaor never being in such danger of his life, but when he fought with his brother Amadis, which made him carry better opinion of the Knight, and both of them being glad to breathe a while, Galaor entered into these speeches. You see Sir I have the better of the combat, let me therefore know your name, and why you conceal yourself so closely: wherein you shall do me very great pleasure, and we may continue friends, else worse will ensue than you imagine. Be well assured answered the Knight, our strife shall not be ended so easily, nor am I to be overcome so lightly as you ween, beside, I was never more desirous to prolong a combat, than I am at this instant, because I never met with the knight that tried me so well: but to you nor any other will I be known, except one Knight who hath power to command me. Be not so opinitive, replied Galaor, for I swear to you by the faith I own to God, never to leave you till I know what you are, and why you conceal yourself so secretly. And I swear to you quoth the Knight, while breath is in my body you shall not know it by me, and rather would I presently die, than any but two should understand what I am: yet I know not them, but they may and shall have knowledge of me. And what are they, said Galaor, you esteem so much? Neither will I disclose them to you, answered the Knight. Both them and my former demand, quoth Galaor, I will know, else one of us shall die, or both together. I am well pleased therewith, replied the Knight. So begin they to charge each other a fresh, as if they had not fought together before at all: but the strange Knight received many cruel wounds, which made his strength more and more to fail: and the Lady seeing the great danger of his life, would suffer him to endure no further peril, but coming to Galaor, said. Forbear Sir Knight, would God the Bark and Mariners had sunk, before they brought you hither. Lady, quoth Galaor, you ought not to blame me in doing my devoir against this Knight, who hath outraged me & many more beside, for which I mean to be revenged this day. Forbear, said the Lady, to wrong him any more, otherwise you may fall into an extremity without any mercy. It matters not what may happen, answered Galaor: but nothing shall make me give over, until he have satisfied my demand. And what is that? quoth she. He must tell me his name, replied Galaor, and why so closely he concealeth himself, likewise, what the two Knights are of whom he told me but even now. Proceed no further in combat, said the Lady, and I will satisfy your demand. This Gentleman is named Don Florestan, concealing himself in this secret manner to find his two brethren, who are in this country accounted such men at Arms, that albeit he hath well tried himself with you, yet will he not be commonly known, till he have accomplished such deeds in chivalry, as may deserve to equal him with them, who are at this time in King Lisuarts Court, one of them being named Amadis, the other Galaor, and all three the Sons to King Perion of Gaul. Alas, what have I done? quoth Galaor, here brother, take my Sword, and therewithal the honour of the fight, for I have offended overmuch. What? said the Knight, am I then your brother? According to this ladies speeches, answered Galaor, you are, and I am your brother Galaor. Florestan amazed at this accident, fell on his knee, saying. My Lord, I desire you to pardon me, for this offence in combating unknown with you, was caused by no other reason: but that I durst not name myself your brother, till I had made some imitation of your noble virtues. Galaor courteously embraced him in his arms, the tears streaming from his eyes with joy, and grieving to see him so sore wounded, doubting lest his life was in great danger: but when the Lady saw them so good friends, and the enmity converted into such humility, as one right glad thereof, she said to Galaar. Worthy Sir, though first you gave me occasion of great heaviness, yet now with sufficient joy you have recompensed me. So taking each of them by the hand, she walked with them into the Castle, where they being lodged in two sumptuous beds, herself (skilful in chirurgery) cured their wonndes. Thus remained the two brethren with the rich and beautiful Lady Corisanda, who desired their health as her own welfare.   

CHAP. XLIII. ¶ How Don Florestan was begotten by King Perion, on the fair Daughter to the County of Zealand.  
AT what time King Perion sought after strange Adventures, he arrived in the Country of Almaigne, where he sojourned the space of two years, accomplishing many brave deeds of Arms, the renown whereof continueth to this day. And as he returned toward Gaul, he lodged in the Counties house of Zealand, where he was entertained very royally, as well in respect of his own reputation, as also because the County himself had sometime been a Knight errant, which made him love all such as followed Arms. After supper, the King was conducted to his chamber, where being in bed, and somewhat weary with travail, he fell a sleep sound: but to shake off this heaviness, he felt himself embraced and kissed he knew not by whom, when starting up to arise, he was so held down that he could not. Why Sir? quoth she that thus mastered him, take you no pleasure in me who am alone with you? The King looking on her, by means of the light which still burned in his chamber, he discerned her to be a most beautiful Lady, wherefore he thus answered. I pray you fair friend, tell me what you are. What soever I am, quoth she, I love you exceedingly, as one that freely gives herself to you. In sooth, replied the King, I very gladly would know your name. You trouble me, said the Lady, with this importunity, yet can I use no other continence than you see. But it were necessary, quoth the King, I should know your name, if you mean to be my friend. Seeing you constrain me thereto, answered the Lady, know that I am the Counties Daughter, who hath so friendly entertained you. Now trust me Madame, replied the King, you must hold me excused, for I had rather die, then abuse the man I am so much beholding too. Will you then refuse me? quoth she, well may you be termed the worst nurtured Prince in the world, in denying the conquest, which all your life time you might have failed of. You may speak your pleasure, answered the King, but I will do what is convenient for your honour and mine, and not offend in so foul a manner. I shall, quoth she, cause my father to think himself more injuried by you, then if you grant what I desire. So starting from the bed, she took the King's Sword, (even the same which was afterward found with Amadis, when he was taken up on the Sea) and drawing it forth, she set the point against her heart, saying. Now shall my Father's life be shortened by my death, whereof you are the only cause. As she uttered these words, she offered to stab herself with the Sword: when the King suddenly staying her hand, and marveling at her impatient love, thus replied. Hurt not yourself Madame, for I am content to satisfy your will. Hereupon he kindly embraced and kissed her, passing the night with her in such sort, as her hot desire was quallifyed, and at that instant she conceived with child: the King little thinking thereon, for the next morning he took his leave of her and the County, returning with all speed he could into Gaul. But the time of deliverance drawing on, and she (desirous to cover her offence) determined to go visit an Aunt of hers, whose dwelling was not passed two or three miles off, and many times she resorted thither for her pleasure. So taking no other company with her but a damosel, as she road through the Forest, the pain of travail made her alight from her Palfrey, she being soon after delivered of a goodly Son. The damosel that was with her, seeing what had happened, bringing the child to the mother, said. Madame, as your heart served you to commit the offence, so must it now practise some present remedy, while I return from your Aunt again. Then getting on horseback, she road apace to her ladies Aunt, and acquainted her with the whole matter: which caused the old woman to be very sorrowful, yet she provided succour for her Niece, sending a Litter with all convenient speed, wherein the Lady and her child were brought to her Castle secretly, every thing being so cunningly handled, as the County never knew his Daughter's fault. After such time as these matters require, the Lady returned home to her Father, leaving her Son in her Aunt's custody, where he was nourished till the age of eighteen years, having Squires and Gentlemen attending on him, who daily instructed him in managing Arms, and all brave qualities beseeming a man of value. He being grown of goodly stature, the old Lady brought him one day to the County his Grandfather, who gave him his Knighthood, not knowing what he was: and returning again with his motherly Nurse, by the way she broke with him in this manner. My Son, I am certain you are ignorant of your parentage, but credit my words, you are the Son to King Perion of Gaul, begotten on his Daughter that gave you your order of Knighthood: endeavour yourself therefore to follow your Father's steps, who is one of the most renowned Knights in the world. Madame, quoth Florestan, oftentimes have I heard great fame of King Perion, but never imagined myself to be his Son: wherefore I vow to you, being my long and careful Nurse, that I will travail to find my Father, and not make myself known to any one, till my deeds declare me worthy to be his Son. Not long after, he departed from the old Lady, and accompanied with two Squires, journeyed to Constantinople, which at that time was greatly vexed with war, where he remained the space of four years, performing such haughty deeds of Chivalry, as he was counted the best Knight in all those parts. When he perceived himself in some account, he intended to visit Gaul, and make himself known to the King his Father: but coming into great Britain, he heard the fame of Amadis to be marvelous, which was the cause of his stay there, to win some report by Arms, as his brethren had done, whom he longed to acquaint himself withal. At length he met with them both in the Forest, as you heard, and afterward combated with his brother Galaor, which caused their abode at the Castle of Corisanda, until such time as their wounds were healed.  
But now let us return to Amadis and Agraies, who stayed with fair Briolania five days together, preparing their Armour and every thing in order: which being done, they set forward on their way, accompanied with Briolania, her Aunt, certain waiting Gentlewomen, and Squires to do them service by the way. When they drew near the Realm of Sobradisa, they came to the Castle of an ancient Lady named Galumba, who some-tune lived in briolania's Father's Court, and there they were welcomed very honourably: yet whether Briolania travailed thus accompanied, the old Lady Galumba could not choose but marvel, which made her request to be satisfied therein. briolania's Aunt told her, how Amadis was one of the best Knights in the world, and had promised to revenge the murdered King's death: likewise how he discomfited them that guarded the Chariot, and afterward overcame the rest in the Castle, at what time the Lions escaped, as you have heard. Galumba wondering at such singular prowess, answered. If he be such a one as you make report, his companion must needs be of some estimation, and well may they bring your enterprise to end, considering the truth and justice of the cause: but take heed lest the traitorous King work some treason against them. That is the chiefest point of my fear, answered Briolania, wherefore we came to crave your advise herein. hereupon she wrote a letter, and sealed it with the Princess' seal at Arms, then calling a damosel, after she had given her instructions, she bade her make haste in delivering the letter. Presently went the damosel to horsseback, and travailed so speedily, that she arrived at the great City of Sobradisa, which the whole Realm took this name by. There was Abiseos with his two Sons Darison and Dramis, and these three must the combat be waged withal: for Abiseos slew the Father of Briolania, by covetous desire he had to the Crown, which he ever since usurped and held, more by tyranny then any consent in the subjects. The damosel entered the Palace on horsseback, when divers Knights came to her, requesting her to alight: but she made answer she would not, till she saw the King, and that he commanded her to leave her palfrey. Soon after came the King, accompanied with his two sons and many great Lords, and after she had saluted him, he boldly bade her say what she would. My Lord, quoth she, I shall fulfil your command, on condition I may abide in your protection, and receive no injury for any thing I say. By my Crown, said the King, I warrant your safety: whereupon the damosel thus began. Sir, my Lady and Mistress Briolania disinherited by you, greets you with this letter, which may openly be read before this royal company, and I afterwards receive answer for my discharge. When the King heard the name of Briolania, remorse of conscience touched him with the wrong he did her: yet was the letter openly read, which was to give credit to the damsels words. The most of the Lords there present, who sometime were subjects to the slaughtered King, seeing the messenger of their lawful Queen indeed: pitied she was so unjustly disinherited, & in their hearts desired of God, to plague the treason done to her Father. Proceed damosel, quoth the King, and let us hear your message. My Lord, said she, by treason you murdered my ladies father, and unjustly keep her from her inheritance, wherefore according to your former promise, which you have not once but often times made, that you with your two Sons would maintain by Arms, the right you pretend to have in this Realm: she sends you word by me, if still you stand upon such trial, she will bring two Knights hither, who shall in combat maintain her cause, making you know your disloyalty and treason committed. Darison eldest son to the King, hearing his Father menaced in this sort, grew into great choler, and as one moved with despite, he arose, when (without the kings consent) he thus spoke. damosel, if your Mistress Briolania have two Knights with her, men resolved to fight on her behalf: here do I accept the combat for my Father and Brother, and if I fail, I promise in the presence of all these Lords, to send her my head in requital of her Fathers, whose death was not accomplished without great reason. In sooth Sir Darison, answered the damosel, you speak as a Knight of haughty mind, yet may I doubt these words to proceed from choler, because I discern an alteration in your countenance: but if you will request the King to confirm your speeches, I shall think your proffer came from a heart of courage. This answer damosel, quoth he, may you boldly make her that sent you hither. Cause then his Majesty, said the damosel, to give my Lady's Knights assurance, that for any mishap you may receive in the combat, they shall sustain no injury, nor be meddled withal but by you three: and if you purchase them such a safeconduit, they shall be here within three days at the utter-most. Darison falling on his knee before the King, said. You hear (my Lord) the damsels demand, and the promise I have made before your Majesty, in the presence of all these great Princes and Lords: humbly therefore I beseech you, seeing my honour is yours, that both you and all the rest will confirm her request, otherwise, to our great disadvantage, the presuming Knights, who dare adventure in the cause of foolish Briolania, will imagine themselves conquerors, and us dismayed faint hearted cowards: having openly published, that if any one will touch your illustrious renown for matters past, by the combat of us three you intent to be purged. And albeit you would make them no such promise, yet ought not we to refuse them, for as I understand, they be some foolish Knights of King Lisuarts Court, who by their overwéening & aspiring thoughts, make high account of their own deeds in the contempt of others. The King who loved Darison as himself, though the death of his brother condemned him culpable, and thereby made him fear the combat: granted them safeconduit, according as the damosel requested for the two Knights, and such as came in their company. Here is to be considered, that the period of this traitors fortune was now limited, and the just avenger of all wrongs, pointed out reward for the treason of him and his sons, as in this discourse may be evidently seen.  
The damosel seeing her message had taken such effect as she desired, said unto them: Make yourselves ready, for to morrow without fail shall this difference be decided. So mounting on her Palfrey, she returned to the Castle of Galumba, where being arrived, before the Knights and Ladies, she reported her answer: but when she told them, that Darison reputed them foolish Knights of King Lisuarts Court, they were so offended, as Amadis entered into th●se speeches. By God, there are such in company of that good King, as can easily abate the pride of Darison, and humble his head so low as they list: but I think his choler overmastered him, when he uttered words of such great indiscretion. Trust me my Lord, answered Briolania, you cannot say or do so much against these traitors, as they justly deserve. You know what villainy they did to the King my Father, and how long time they have disinherited me: let pity then prevail on my behalf, seeing in God and you I have reposed myself, with assured hope of sufficient revenge. Amadis, whose heart was submiss to virtue and all gentleness, moved with compassion, said. Madame, if God be so pleased, ere to morrow at night, your sorrow and sadness, shall be converted into pleasure and content. hereupon they concluded, to set forward very early the next morning, which made them departed to their chambers, except Briolania, who sat conferring with Amadis on many matters, when oftentimes she thought to motion marriage between him and her: but suspecting by his continual sighs, as also the tears streaming from his eyes, that some other Lady was cause of these passions, she kept silence, and taking her leave, bade him good night. On the morrow they go all to horseback, and coming to the City of Sobradisa, their arrival was very welcome to many, who seeing the Daughter of their late sovereign Lord, and knowing the monstrous treachery of his brother, they instantly desired her prosperous success, because they bore her singular affection. Abiseos' remembering the wrong he had done her, and his bloody treason so unnaturally committed, seemed terrified in countenance, because the worm of conscience revived his heinous offence: yet having been so long obstinate and indurate in his sin, thought fortune would now assure his quietness, & confirm his state to continue in tranquillity. But when he saw how the people flocked about her, not showing any reverence to him & his Sons, albeit they were royally accompanied with Lords, he exclaimed on them in this manner. Ah wretched and bad minded people, I see what comfort you take by the presence of this Girl, and how your senses are carried away with her: now may I well judge, you rather could accept her as your Sovereign, she being a woman not capable of such an office, than I that am a hardy Knight. Her weakness you may note, because she hath in so long time gotten but two Knights, who are come to receive an ignominious death, which in sooth I cannot choose but pity. When Amadis heard these taunting words, he was so enraged, as if the blood would have gushed from his eyes, and raising himself on his stirrups, that every one might hear him, he thus answered. Abiseos, it may be easily discerned, that the arrival of the Princess is scant pleasing to thee, in respect of thy horrible treason committed, murdering her father thy eldest brother: but if thou have any feeling of virtue, and art repentant for thy foul misdeed, yield to her what thou hast unjustly usurped, so shall I discharge thee of the combat: provided, thou ask God forgiveness, and use such repentance as beseemeth a sin so heinous, that by losing honour in this world, thou mayst seek the salvation of thy soul hereafter. Darison provoked to anger by these speeches, anaunced himself, and before his father had leisure to reply, he prevented him in this manner. Thou foolish Knight of King Lisuarts Court, hardly can I endure thy injurious words to my father in my presence: but I am content to defer them, till we proceed to the effect of thy demand, then shall I take such vengeance for them as I desire, for when thy heart shall faint in time of need, weening to save thy life by flight: if thou make not good haste I will so chastise thee, as each one shall pity thy miserable estate. This is too long a process, said Agraies, to defend thy father's treason withal, go arm thyself, and come to the combat as thou didst promise, then shalt thou see if fortune be so favourable, to give thee the victory which thou reckonest assured: if she do otherwise, persuade thyself, ●oth thou and thine shall have the meed of your wicked deserving. Say what thou wilt, answered Darison, ere long thy imurious tongue pulled from thy head, shall be sent to the Court of thy master King Lisuart, that such as behold thy worthy punishment, may be afraid to hazard the like by their liberal language. So calling for their Armour, the King and his two Sons were quickly Armed, then mounting on horseback, they went to the place appointed for Combats. whereupon, Amadis and Agraies lacing their Helmets, took their shields and Lances, and afterward entered the field. Then Dramis (who was the youngest brother, yet a Knight so valiant, as two of the best in that Country durst not deal with him in combat) said to his Father. My Lord, where your Majesty and my Brother are present, well may I be excused from speech, but now effects must show it otherwise, by such strength as heaven hath enabled me withal: therefore I desire to try my fortune with the Knight who hath so wronged you, and if I kill him not at the first taint of the Lance, never shall Armour come on my back again: but if I meet him not so right as I desire, he shall have but little respite of life, for at the first stroke of my sword, I will dispatch him. Many heard the words of young Dramis, and esteemed highly of his enterprise, nor did they greatly doubt the performance, considering what deeds of arms they had seen him accomplish. Now place they their Lances in their rests, and Dramis prepared himself against Amadis, who met him so full in the career, as his heart broke in his belly, and he fell to the ground so waightely, as if it had been the fall of an Ore. Get thee to all the devils, said Dardan the Dwarf, my master is very well rid of thee: but me thinks his threatening hath lighted on himself, which commonly falls out so with such great crackers. Agraies and Darison broke their Lances in the encounter, but no other harm happened between them as yet. When Abiseos saw his son Dramis was dead, he was marvelously displeased and intended to revenge his death on Amadis, whereupon he gave forth to meet him, and piercing his Lance thorough the Princes shield, gave him a sore hurt on the arm, which made the beholders doubt, that Amadis could hold out no longer. If then the young Princess Briolania was dismayed, it were in vain to demand the question: for now her heart dreaded further mishap: but he who could not be daunted with common wounds, drew the Sword which he recovered from Arcal●us, giving Abiseos such a sound greeting therewith on the head, as made him couch his neck to his shoulders, and the Sword sliding down upon his right arm, gave him a wound to the very bone, by means whereof Abiseos found himself so distressed and amazed, that he fell down from his horse as it were in a trance. Now did the people marvel not a little, to see Amadis at two strokes overthrow two such puissant Knights, esteemed among them the best in the world: but Amadis beholding no other resistance, returned to Darison who fought with Agraies, they behaving themselves so manfully against each other, as the people thought they never saw a braver combat. At length Abiseos recovered again, and seeing his Son Darison in danger of his life, came to assist him, giving Agraies such a wound in the throat, as his Cousin thought he had been slain outright: but soon did he requite Abiseos for it, by separating his wounded arm from his body, even the same arm wherewith he killed the King his brother, which made him fall down dead to the ground, whereupon Amadis called to him, saying. Abiseos, this is punishment in member, whereby thou didst thrust thyself into the Crown, and now hast received death according to thy desert. Then he turned about to help Agraies, but he met him with the head of Darison in his hand: whereat all the people gave a great shout, and humbled themselves to Briolania as their lawful Queen. This was the end of the wretched Father and his sons, serving at this day for an example to such as shamefully usurp the right of others: which though they enjoy for a small season, yet when the God of power letteth lose his arrows against them, they fall into open and detested ruin. Let every man therefore set before his eyes, that no evil remaineth unpunished, and the end concludeth these two principles, the eternal beatitude of the celestial souls, and the merciless excruciamentes of miserable damned creatures. Thus see you what lot fell to Abiseos and his children, usurping the Kingdom by homicide and tyranny, even by the death of his own natural Brother: therefore heaven repaid him with a miserable end, by the conquering Sword of Amadis and Agraies, who dragged them along out of the field, demanding if any other would withstand the right of Briolania. By one of the chiefest Lords in the countrynamed Goman, they were answered, she had no more enemies to gainsay her, which he testified with an hundred Knights of his own kindred: all the people being there ready to receive their Queen Briolania, and do her homahe as beseemed faithful subjects. hereupon, Amadis and Agraies conducted the new Queen to the Palace royal, where they were presently unarmed, and chirurgeons commanded to attend their wounds: in mean while Briolania was confirmed in the regiment, by a general oath of the subjects taken to their Sovereign, with such joy as never was the like in Sobradisa. But because the two Knights were very sore wounned, and their hurts found to be somewhat dangerous, all sports and pastimes accustomed at such solemnity, were referred till the time of their recovery: which to compass the sooner, their lodgings were appointed in several chambers, that none might trouble them with tedious talking, lest a continual fever▪ should come upon them. Notwithstanding, Briolania, as one not ingrateful for the good she received by them, would not depart from them either day or night, but only at the time of repast: so that by her kind and diligent attendance, the danger of their sickness was expelled the sooner. See here the true and certain history, for what is said more, concerning the love of Amadis and this Princess, hath been invented and falsely feigned, according as I have said before: therefore we will cease, seeing here it goes no further, until the contrary may apparently be known, as in the history following is declared.   

CHAP. XLIIII. ¶ How Galaor and, Florestan riding toward the Realm of Sobradisa, met with three damsels at the Fountain of Olives.  
GAlaor and Florestan being at the Castle of Corisanda, as you have heard, they sojourned there till their wounds were healed: afterward they concluded on their departure, to seek Amadis in the Realm of Sobradisa, desiring they might come thither before the beginning of the combat, to have part of the peril in fight, and glory in conquest. But when Florestan should take leave of his Lady, her grief and tears unspeakable, able to move ruth in a heart of flint, although Florestan assured her of his speedy return. Notwithstanding all these moans, forward they set to the Realm of Sobradisa, Florestan, craving a boon of his brother by the way, to wit? that he would not combat on the way for any thing which might happen, until he were able to hold out no longer. With much a do he obtained his request, and so road they on four days together, not meeting with any adventure worthy the rehearsal: but toward Sun setting they met a Knight hard by a Tower, who entreated them earnestly to lodge there that night, which gentle offer they accepted, and entering with the Knight, they conferred on many matters till supper was ready. The Knight was of comely stature, and well spoken, but his countenance was so sad and melancholy, as Galaor began thus to question with him. He thinks Sir you are not so merry as you should be, but if we may any way help your pensiveness, tell us, and you shall find us willing to perform it. I believe assuredly, quoth their host, that like good Knights you would do as you say, but my sadness is caused thorough extreme love, a matter not to be revealed, and therefore the rather to be pardoned. So sat they down to supper, which being ended, Galaor and his brother were conducted to their chamber, where they reposed themselves till the next morning: when mounting on horsseback, their host would accompany them a little on the way, and calling for his jennet, but putting on no Armour, he rideth with them: this did he to see what should happen to them, because in the way he guided them, he hoped to see some proof of their manhood, when if they were vanquished or slain, he might the more easily escape from them.  
Not far had they travailed, but they came to a place called the fountain of Olives, because in the midst of the water grew three high Olive trees. Hereby they espied three beautiful Damosels, and a Dwarf sitting aloft in one of the trees: whereupon Florestan saluted them very courteously, as one not to learn his behaviour toward Ladies, than one of the Damosels requiting his salutation, said. Sir Knight, if heaven hath endued you with as great bounty as comely perfection, no doubt but you are sufficiently enriched. Fair damosel, answered Florestan, if my outward appearance doth please you, my inward virtue you may try if you have any need. You speak so kindly, quoth she, that I will presently make proof of your valour, to see if you can carry me hence from this place. In sooth Lady, replied Florestan, if of yourself you be willing to go, I know no reason to the contrary why you should not. herewith he commanded the Squire to set her on a Palfrey, which was tied (ready furnished) at one of the Olive trees: but when the Dwarf beheld it, he cried out aloud: Come forth Sir Knight, come forth, for here is one will carry away your friend. Presently came out of a valley a Knight bravely prancing, and well armed, who said to Florestan: What moves you Sir to touch my Lady? I cannot think she is yours, answered Florestan, seeing she entreateth me to carry her hence away. Albeit she would, quoth the Knight, yet I think it not at this time so convenient, because I have defended her from better than you are. I know not how well you have defended her, replied Florestan, but she shall go with me if I can help it. By God Sir, answered the other, you must first talk with the Knights of this vale, and feel how safely they can keep such as they love. So placing their Lances in their rests, they ran courageously against each other, the Knight breaking his staff: but Florestan smote his shield so strongly against his Helmet, as the lace broke, and his head was bare, but worst of all, he fell so heavily upon his Sword, that with his weight it broke in two pieces. Florestan finished his career, having his Lance whole and sound, when turning again to the Knight, he saw that he moved neither hand or foot, wherefore punching him with his Lance upon the stomach, said: Palliard, thou art dead, if thou yield not. The Knight being recovered from trance, and beholding the present danger of his life, desired mercy: which Florestan granted, so he would freely resign the damosel. She is at your pleasure, replied the Knight, but cursed be the hour when first I saw her. For by her follies she hath oftentimes endangered my life. Florestan leaving him, came to the damosel, saying: Fair Lady, now you are mine. You have so nobly won me Sir, quoth she, as I remain at your disposition. As they were departing thence, one of the other Damosels thus spoke: Alas Sir, will you separate so good company? it is a year and more since we have lived together, and we would be loath now to part in this manner. If you please to accompany her, answered Florestan, I can be content to conduct you together: and more I hope you will not request, because I mean not to leave my conquest. I think myself not so foul, replied the other damosel, but some good Knight may enterprise as great an adventure for me: marry it is to be doubted, whether such hardiness remain in you or no. Why Lady? quoth Florestan, think you that fear can make me leave ye? I promise you on my faith, but that I would not forcibly carry you away, you should presently go with me: but if your will be so good, let my Squire help you up on your hackney. Which she did, and the Dwarf cried again as he did for the first, whereupon another Knight came immediately forth, and after him a Squire bearing two Lances, the Knight using these words to Florestan. You have (Sir) already won one Lady, and (not content with her) you seek for another: but now in one instant you must lose them both, and your head I doubt to keep them company, because you being of no better race, are unworthy a Lady of so high calling. Thou vauntest very much, answered Florestan, yet have I two Knights of my lineage, whom thou, nor three such as thou art, may be thought worthy to serve. Thy commendations extend very far, said the Knight, yet am I to meddle with none but thee, who hast got a Lady from him that could not defend her: but she must be mine if I conquer thee, else by vanquishing me, thou shalt be master of them both together. Now thou speakest reason, quoth Florestan: defend thy Lady well, or without doubt she will fall to my share. So giving the spurs to their horses, they committed this controversy to be tried by the Lance, when though the Prince failed in the first race, and the other broke his staff very manfully: yet (being angry at his mishap) at the second course he sent the Knight so violently to the ground, as he thought every bone of him was broken in pieces. Thus was he safely possessed of the second damosel, and very loath he was to leave the third there alone, but she beholding their host that conducted them thither, spoke to him in this manner. My friend, I would advise ye to be gone, because you know these two Knights can not resist him will presently come: then if you be taken, you are sure to die the death. Believe me Lady, quoth he, I mean now to see the end of all, for my horse is quick of pace, and my Tower strong enough to defend me from him. Well, look to yourselves, said the Damsel, you be but three, and one of you unarmed, but if he were, it might not avail him. When Florestan heard how she praised him that was to come, he was more desirous to carry her away then before, only because he would have a sight of him, and therefore bade his Squire set her on horseback as he did the other, when the Dwarf in the Olive tree delivered these words. Believe me Sir Knight, in an evil hour came this boldness on you, for presently cometh one who will revenge his companions. Forth of the vale came a Knight in gilt Armour, mounted on a lusty bay courser, the man resembling a Giant in proportion, and reputed to be of incredible strength. After him followed two Squires armed, each of them carrying a hatchet in his hand, and so soon as he came near Florestan, he thus spoke. Stay Knight and fly not, for by flight thou art not able to save thy life, better is it for thee to die like a good Knight then a coward, especially when by cowardice thou canst not escape. Florestan hearing such menaces of death, contemning likewise as a man of no value, incensed with anger, he returned this answer. Monster, beast, Devil, or whatsoever thou art, reason I see thou wantest: so little do I esteem thy prodigal words, that I think thou hast no better weapons to fight withal. I grieve, said the Knight, that I cannot have my fill in revenge on thee, but I would four of the best of thy lineage were here with thee, for me to slice off their heads as I will do thine. Look to thine own thou were best, answered Florestan, for I hope I am sufficient to excuse them, and be their Lieutenant in this matter on thee. Thus sundering themselves, in rage and fury they meet together, that the beating of their horses hooves made the earth to groan, and the breach of their Lances made a terrible noise: but the great Knight lost his stirrups, and had fallen to the ground, if by catching hold about his horse neck he had not escaped. As Florestan held on his course, he caught a hatchet from one of the Squires, wherewith he smote him quite beside his horse: and by time he returned, the Knight had recovered his seat again, and the hatchet which the other Squire held. Now begins a dreadful combat between them, such cruel strokes being given at each other with their hatchets, as though their helmets were of right trusty steel, yet they cut and mangle them very pitifully. Many times was Florestan enforced to staggering, by the mighty blows of his monstrous enemy, yet at length the Prince smote at him so furiously as he was feign to lie along upon his horse neck, when redoubling his stroke between the helmet and the brigandine he parted his head from his shoulders. Being thus conqueror of all the Damsels, and they not a little marveling at this strange victory, the Knight who had been their host the night before, spoke to Florestan. My Lord, this damosel have I long time loved, and she me with like affection, but for the space of this year and more, the great Knight (whom last you slew) hath forcibly detained her: yet being now recovered by your worthy prowess, I beseech ye Sir, I may enjoy her again. If it be so as you say, answered Florestan, my pains have stood you in some steed at this time, but against her will, neither you or any other can get her from me. Alas my Lord, quoth the damosel, no one but he hath right to my love, then sunder not them that should live together. Nor will I, said Florestan, you are Lady at your own liberty, and may depart with your friend when you please. They both requited him with manifold thanks, then taking leave of Galaor and Florestan, the Knight rides home joyfully with his new conquered Lady. The other two Damsels desired the Princes, to accompany them to their aunt's house which was not far of, Galaor questioning with them by the way, why they were kept in such sort at the fountain, whereto one of the Damsels thus replied. Understand my Lord, that the great Knight who was slain in the combat, loved the Lady which your host carried away with him, but she despised him above all other, fancying no other than him who now enjoys her. But in respect this Knight was so puissant, as none in this countrhy durst contend with him, he kept her violently whether she would or no, yet offering her no injury, because he loved her dearly, and one day among other he thus spoke to her. Fair Mistress, to the end I may compass your gentle affection, and be esteemed of you the only Knight in the world, listen what I will do for your sake. There is a Knight named Amadis of Gaul, accounted the only man for valour this day living, who s●ew a Cousin of mine in the Court of King Lisuart, a Knight of great fame called Dardan the proud: him (for your sake) will I seek, and by cutting off his head, convert all his glory to mine own commendation. But till I compass what I have said, these two Ladies, (meaning us) and these two Knights of my lineage shall attend on you, and each day conduct you to the fountain of Olives, which is the only passage for Knights errant through this country: if any dare be so bold to carry you thence, there shall you see many brave combats, and what the honour of your love can make me do, to cause the like opinion in you towards me, as your divine perfections have wrought in me to you. Thus were we taken and given to the two Knights who were first dismounted, and with them we have abode the space of one whole year, in which time many combats they fought for us, yet never conquered till this present. In sooth Lady, answered Galaor, the knights intent was too high for him to accomplish, because he could not deal with Amadis, and escape the fortune now fallen upon him: but how was he named? He called himself Alimias, quoth ash, and had not overwéening pride too much ruled him, he was a most gentle and courteous Knight. By this time were they come to their aunt's Castle, where Galaor and Florestan found gracious entertainment, the old Lady being very glad to see her Nieces, as also to understand the death of Alimias.  
After they had taken leave of the friendly Ladies, they journey toward the Realm of Sobradisa, where they heard before they entered the City, how Amadis and Agraies had slain Abiseos and his sons, by means whereof, Briolania ruled as a peaceable Queen, which news highly contented them, and made them rejoice for their happy fortune. To the Palace they come unknown of any, till they were brought to Amadis and Agraies, whose wounds were already indifferently recured, and they devising with the Queen at their arrival. Here you must note, how the damosel that conducted Galaor to find Florestan, left them after the Combat, and coming before to her Mistress, told her and Amadis, how Galaor and Florestan knew each other, and what issue their combat had: which made Amadis very kindly to embrace them both, and Florestan offered on his knee to kiss his hand, which Amadis would not permit, but causing him to arise, sat down and communed of their adventures yast. But one day among other, the new installed Queen Briolania, after many honourable feastings she had made them, seeing these four Knights determined to depart, considering the good she had received by Amadis and Agraies, and that she (being before a disinherited Princess) was by their means restored to her Kingdom: beholding likewise the wheel of Fortune turned, & how such personages were not alone to aid and defend her country, but puissant enough of themselves to be Kings and mighty Lords: falling on her knees before them, first rendering thanks to God, who had done her such grace as to regard her in pity, continuing her discourse, she said. Think my Lords, these mutations are the marvels of the Almighty, which are admirable to us and held of great account, but to him they are (in manner) nothing. Let us see if it be good then to shun Signories and riches, which to obtain we take such pain and travail, and to keep, endure innumerable anguishes and distress: as superfluous therefore utterly to deject them, because they are torments of body and soul, uncertain and have no permanence. As for myself, I say no, but affirm, that they being lawfully gotten, modestly used, and according to God's appointment: they are in this world, rest, pleasure and joy, and the way to bring us to eternal glory.   

To the Gentlemen Readers.  
THus Gentlemen is the first Book of Amadis finished, how rudely and unlearnedlye you may perceive, yet truly set down according to the French history: but if it be not so eloquently handled as you expected, you must bear with the bad conceit, which ne●er was capable of any such cunning. Good will is the line whereby I level my works, and friendly acceptation the greatest grace in gentle minds, which is able to shadow all imperfections whatsoever, and to let that pass for currant, which else were counterfeit. In this hope I present you with my labour of Amadis, and my poor good will, being requited with your kind accepting: shall encourage me to adventure on the second Book of this history, which (by the favour of the first) will come the sooner. Long may I not stand pleading for so slender a reward, the good will think the best, their courtesy I require, the bad (not borne to say well) I care not for their friendship.  
An. Monday. Honos alit Artes.  
FINIS.   

A Table for the ready finding of the Chapters contained in this Book, directing by the number to every several leaf.  
OF whence the King's Garinter and Perion were, and the Combat between Perion and two Knights, as also how he fought with a Lion that devoured a Hart in their presence: with the success following thereon. Chapter I. 
Folio. 1.  How the Princess Elisena, and her damosel Darioletta. went to the chamber where King Perion was lodged. chapter. II. 
Folio. 5.  How King Perion parting from little Britain, travailed on his journey, having his heart filled with grief and melancholy. chapter. III. 
Fol. 10.  How King Languines carried away with him the Gentleman of the Sea, and Gandalin the Son of Gandales. chapter. four 
Fol. 15.  How King Lisuart sailing by Sea, landed in Scotland, where he was greatly honoured, and well entertained. chapter. V 
Fol. 19  How Vrganda the unknown, brought a Lance to the Gentleman of the Sea. chapter. VI 
Fol. 26.  How the Gentleman of the Sea, combated with the guarders of Galpans Castle, and afterward with his brethren, and in the end with Galpan himself. chapped. VII. 
Fol. 31.  How the third day after the Gentleman of the Sea departed from King Languines, the three Knights came to the court, bringing with them the wounded Knight in a Litter, and his disloyal wife. chap. VIII. 
Fol. 34.  How King Lisuart sent for his Daughter the Princess Oriana, for that long before he had left her in the court of King Languines: who sent her accompanied with the Princess Mabila his only daughter, as also a noble train of Knights, Ladies and Gentlewomen. chap. IX. 
Fol. 36.  How the Gentleman of the Sea fought the combat with King Abies, on difference of the war he made in Gaul. chapter. X. 
Fol. 43.  How the Gentleman of the Sea was known by King Perion his Father, and by the Queen Elisena his Mother. chapter. XI. 
Fol. 47.  How the Giant bringing Galaor to King Lisuart, that he might dub him Knight: met with his brother Amadis, by whose hand he would be knighted, and by no other. chapter. XII. 
Fol. 52.  How Galaor vanquished the Giant at the Rock of Galteres. chapter. XIII. 
Fol. 58.  How after Amadis departed from Vrganda the unknown, he arrived at a castle, where it chanced to him as you shall read in the discourse, chapter. XIIII. 
Fol. 64.  How king Lisuart caused a Sepulchre to be made for Dardan and his friend, with an Epitaph in remembrance of their death: and the honour he did to Amadis, after he was found and known. chapter. XV. 
Fol. 72.  How Amadis made himself known to king Lisuart, as also the Princes and Lords of his court, of whom he was honourably received & feasted. chap. XVI. 
Fol. 79.  What were the adventures of the Prince Agraies, since his return from Gaul, where he left Amadis. chapter. XVII. 
Fol. 85.  How Amadis tarrying with his good will in the court of king Lisuart, heard tidings of his brother Galaor. chapter. XVIII. 
Fol. 92.  How Amadis combated against Angriote and his brother, who guarded the passage of the valley, against such as would not confess, that their Ladies were inferior in beauty to Angriotes choice. chapter. XIX. 
Fol. 97.  How Amadis, was enchanted by Arcalaus, when he would have delivered the Lady Grindaloya and other from prison: and how afterward he escaped the enchantments by the aid of Vrganda. chapter. XX. 
Fol. 104.  How Arcalaus brought news to the court of king Lisuart, that Amadis was dead, which caused his friends to make manifold lamentations and regrets, especially the Princess Oriana. chapter. XXI. 
Fol. 108.  How Galaor came very sore wounded to a Monastery, where he sojourned five days attending his health, and at his departure thence, what happened to him. chapter. XXII. 
Fol. 112.  How Amadis departed from the Lady's castle, and of the matters which were occurrent to him by the way. chapter. XXIII. 
Fol. 119.  How king Lisuart being in the chase, saw a far off three Knights armed coming toward him, and what followed there-upon. chapter. XXIIII. 
Fol. 122.  How Amadis, Galaor, and Balays determined to travail to king Lisuart, and what adventures happened by the way between them. chapter. XXV. 
Fol. 127.  How Galaor revenged the death of the knight, whom he found slain on the bed under the tree. chapter. XXVI. 
Folio. 131  How Amadis pursuing the knight that misused the damosel, met another knight with whom he combated, and what happened to him afterward. chapped. XXVII. 
Folio. 134  How Amadis combated with the knight, that did steal the damosel from him when he slept, and vanquished him. chapter. XXVIII. 
138.  How Balays behaved himself in his enterprise, pursuing the knight that made Galaor lose his horse. chapter. XXIX. 
Folio. 140.  How King Lisuart held open court most royally, and of that which happened in the mean time. chap. XXX. 
Folio. 142.  How Amadis, Galaor, and Balays arrived at the court of king Lisuart, and what happened to them afterward. chapter. XXXI. 
Fol. 145.  How king Lisuart departed from Windesore to the good city of London, there to hold open and royal court. chapter. XXXII. 
Folio. 148.  How king Lisuart would have the advise of his Princes and Lords, as concerning his former determination, for the high exalting and entertaining of chivalry. chapter. XXXIII. 
Folio. 152.  How while this great and joyful assembly endured, a damosel came to court, clothed in mourning, requesting aid of king Lisuart, in a cause whereby she had been wronged. chapter. XXXIIII. 
Folio. 155.  How king Lisuart was in danger of his person and his state, by the unlawful promises he made too rash and unadvisedly. chapter. XXXV. 
Folio. 161.  How Amadis and Galaor understood, that king Lisuart and his daughter were carried away prisoners, wherefore they made haste to give them secure. chapter. XXXVI. 
Folio. 166.  How Galaor rescued king Lisuart from the ten knights that led him to prison. chapter. XXXVII. 
Folio. 172.  How news came to the Queen that the king was taken: And how Barsinan laboured to usurp the city of London. chapter. XXXVIII. 
Folio. 174.  How Amadis came to the succour of the city of London, when it was in this distress. chapter. XXXIX. 
Fol. 177.  How king Lisuart held open court in the city of London many days, in which time, sundry great personages were there feasted, the greater part whereof remained there long time afterward. chapter. XL. 
Folio. 181.  How Amadis determined to go combat with Abiseos and his two Sons, to revenge the king's death, who was father to the fair Briolania, and of that which followed. chapter. XLI. 
Folio. 183.  How Galaor went with the damosel after the knight that dismounted him and his companions in the forest, whom when he found, they combated together, and afterward in the sharpest point of their combat, they knew each other. chapter. XLII. 
Folio. 187.  How Don Florestan was begotten by King Perion, on the fair Daughter to the county of Zealand. chapter. XLIII. 
folio. 191.  How Galaor and Florestan, riding toward the Realm of Sobradisa, met with three damsels at the Fountain of Olives. chapter. XLIIII. 
folio. 197.   
FINIS.