THE GALLANT, DELECTABLE AND PLEASANT HISTORY OF GERILEON OF ENGLAND: Containing the haughty Feats of Arms, and Knightly prowess of the same GERILEON, with his Loves and other memorable Adventures.  
Composed in the French Tongue, by Steven De Maison Neufue Bordelois. And now newly translated into English.  
¶ IMPRINTED AT LONDON FOR Miles jennynges, Dwelling in Paul's Churchyard at the Sign of the Bible. Anno Domini, 1578.   

¶ To the right Honourable and virtuous Earl, the Lord Philip Howard, Earl of Surrey: all happiness, health, felicity, and continuance of honour.  
AFTER that I had bestowed both pains, travail and charges (Right honourable) about the reducing of this delightful History of Gerileon into this our mother tongue, and had therein used the advise and conference of sundry my friends, I was aswell by their counsel emboldened, as otherwise of mine own nature, willing, to present and consecrated the first fruits thereof (by way of Dedication) unto your good and honourable Lordship. The History itself being first written in French, was (in deed) for the greater part thereof, after a kind of sort, translated by a certain young man, more hardy and venturous in attempt, then lucky and Fortunate in achievance; whose good meaning, as it seemeth to merit pardon, and perhaps some thanks: so upon further scrutiny, examination, and conference of the copy with his Translation, it was easy to find where he had tripped, and where (unawares) he had utterly lost his way. Whereupon I was driven to sustain a double labour: One in perfecting his imperfections: The other in finishing and supplying that part of the Book, where he had abruptly broken of, and absurdly skipped over. And for that the copy thereof (coming at the first into my hands by chance among other things) was so farced with prodigious phrases, and so apparently halted in sense and understanding, I caused the same to be reperused, and looked over anew, that no diligence should want, wherein my industry might any thing avail. Which labour and travail I humbly dedicated unto your Honour: not doubting, but that as the Book itself shall somewhat dignify your worthy person, and emblazon your renowned fame: so again, that it shall be from the bright beams of your shining virtues, both the better countenanced, and the freendlier accepted of all worthy young Gentlemen, delighting in Chivalry, Martial exploits, and such amorous discourses, as are tolerably incident to the green Prime of youthful years. In fine, herein is very aptly shadowed out, a perfect type of Dame virtues Pilgrimage, whose natural course, usual trade, and ordinary hap, is through many sharp dangers, brunts, and adventures, to purchase the goal of honour and renown in this life, and afterward a Crown of immortal Fame and glory in the life to come: unto the which I humbly beseech Almighty GOD, after many years here happily bestowed, to bring your good Lordship.  
Your Honour's most humble to Command Miles jennynges.   

IN AUTHORIS LAUDEM, PETRUS LAVERNIUS BURDECALENSIS.  
I Am iam maternae sileat facundia linguae  
Gentis Romanae: sileat veterumque poesis  
Ad binos celebrata polos, redimita corona  
Victrici: poscit meritam sibi Gallia palmam:  
Doctorun immensum pelagus, quos docta sub antro  
Pallas Castalio teneris nutrivit ab annis:  
Inter quos tibi magnus honos, & gloria surgit  
O lux Burdegalae, nullum peritura per aeuum.  
Mortua qui dudum lethaeos hausta liquores  
Corpora, viva facis, gratum quoque cernere lumen.  
Aeneae Stygijs penè occultata sub undis  
Arma Maro cecinit, medijsque erepta ruinis  
Dardamdûm sacra, & lustratum navibus çquor.  
Hectora Maeonius, bellum que furentis Vlyssis.  
A te Gerileon nigro revocatus ab orco,  
Euasit superas iterum rediviws ad auras,  
Gerileon, belli, fulmen, tonitruque tremendum:  
Qui, quantum timido toruus Leo fortior hirco,  
Tantum alios superat, nulli aequiparandus in armis:  
Cui nunc belligeri cedunt praeclara Rolandi  
Facta, & Amadisij invicti, fortisque Renaldi.  
Hinc procul hinc livor, suet as repetátque cavernas,  
Nullas hic poterit noxas sufferre libellus.  
Vtque duces vincit, belloque insignis, & armis  
Gerileon, vinces alios sic Pallados arte.  
Mantua Virgilium iactet, Verona Catullum,  
Roma patrem eloquij laudet, Sulmóque Nasonem:  
Ast magni tua fama petet regna alta Tonantis,  
Teque suo illustris gaudebit Gallia alumno.  
Ergo dum caelo stabunt defixa sereno  
Sidera, dumque iubar lustrabit lumine mundum,  
Gerileon levibus penetrabit ad Aethera pennis,  
Et stabis toto semper celeberrimus orb.   

AD ILLUSTRISSIMUM LONGEQVE HONORATISSIMUM HEROEM, D. PHIlippum Howardum, Comitem Surreium, Tetrastichon.  
Quitibi cunque placet, Librum & tibi consecrat uni,  
Inclyte Surreio stemmate nate Comes:  
Ille quidem cunctis alijs placuisse videtur,  
Nam cunctis unus (clare Philippe) places.  
Th. Newtonus, Cestreshyrius   

Thomas Newton in Commendation of this Book.  
A Perfect pattern of Renowmne, a type of Chivalry,  
An haughty heart, a breast y fraught with Magnanimity,  
A Stage of state and stout attempts, a Theatre of Fame,  
With each odd circumstance of praise, belonging to the same,  
Who list and is dispos'de to see in colours trimly touched,  
Mate in this Book be fully stored with furniture well couched.  
Which though the subject of the same, in feigned matters stands,  
With names of persons, places, hills, Mounts, Isles, seas, castles, lands:  
Yet (doubtless) it affordeth stuff, right pleasant, fit and good,  
To train the minds of noble wights, & Imps of Mars his blood,  
By valiant ventures to achieve exploits of passing praise,  
Whereby their fame may reach beyond the date of mortal days.  
Which is and ay hath been the spur, which moved hath the same.  
To pass the pikes through thick & thin, through fire, sword & flame.  
To which effect this worthy work, now lately taught hath been,  
(Invested erst in French attire) an English thread to spin,  
For very love to Native soil: to move us englishmen,  
To trace the steps of virtues lore, and rouse out of our den  
And Cradle of Security, wherein we lulled are,  
As men of English prowess erst, not taking any care.  
In am of pains, the only see that craved is of thee,  
Is that thou wouldst judge of the same with singleness of eye,  
And friendly make report thereof: so shalt thou have the rest,  
Of stout Gerileons glorious acts hereafter more expressed.  
Thomas Newton.   

IN stately style the glorious greeks displayed  
Achilles' deeds, and Alexander's fame:  
In worthy works the wits of Rome assayed  
To spread abroad Dan Scipio's noble name.  
So every writer sought to paint the praise  
Of such as were their countrymen of yore:  
But lo, the French amazed in these our days  
At English Acts achieved heretofore,  
Bewray at length, by their outlandish Pen,  
Gerileons' gests (a piece of piereles price.)  
Causeless therefore shall any englishmen  
So good a gift reject in scornful wise:  
Since seemly Surrey shrouds it from mischance,  
And frenchmen first Gerileon do advance.  
W. M.   

THE FIRST BOOK of the History of Gerileon.  

After the death of the most puissant and virtuous king Brandismell King of great Britain, there succeeded him in the government of the said Realm, a Son of his, called Floridamant. The which being in his Palace at London, feasting his Lords and Barons, and making preparation, one afternoon, to go course an Heart, in the company of the Princes, Huberte of Scotland, and Dorian, Son to the King of spain: which Heart he had seen in a wood near to the Castle of Mirandoll, There entered into the Hall a Damsel, who having recounted to him a certain adventure, had him away with her.  
The first Chapter.  
THOSE which have been curious in reading of ancient Histories, are nothing ignorant how, amongst those Realms, which for their fertility and worthiness have in times passed merited any Commendations, Britain the Great hath not only matched, but also far surpassed them all: As well because of natural beauty & goodness thereof, as in that it is the country under heaven, which of all Antiquity hath been more populous, & better stored of strong and valiant Knights, than any other, whatsoever: thither drawn and alured, partly by the excellent and divine beauty of the Ladies there inhabiting: partly by the marvelous and strange adventures there accustomably found. In so much that for this occasion it hath been often called the Land adventurous. Neither might any one of foreign Coasts or Country's name himself a true and valiant knight, if in it he had not made proof of his worthiness, there atchiving some strange adventures. But especially in the time of the most Puissant and virtuous king Brandismel, which having by his prowess and valiauncy conquered many Realms and Provinces, as Norway, Swethlande, and Denmark, instituted also the order of the twelve courageous knights of great Britain, being such, and endued with so great force and valiancy, that few their likes were as then to be found in the whole world. Among whom, for most valiant was the king Ferrande of Norway, Dom Grandilaor and Dom Murcibel king of Denmark. The rest also because of their bounty, dexterity and boldness in matters of Arms were great praise worthy. For this occasion was king Brandismel much feared and redoubted of his neighbours and borderers, yet no less beloved of them for his courtesy, liberality, lenity, and humanity, with other virtues infinite, which were resplendisaunt in him. And in such fort, that there was not he which (doing him the most toilsome and agreeable service he could) did not yet esteem himself most happy to be insinuated into his good grace and favour, so to gain his gracious amity. But the fatal Sisters (most impious, and envious of the good success and felicity of humane kind, and of those especially which retain a singular contentment and pleasure to be in the fellowship and acquaintance of a Prince so virtuous and debonair) bereft them the shining gleams of nobleness and mirro of Chivalry out of this world, shreading a sunder the last thread of this so virtuous a king, the year of grace after the death of our Saviour jesus Christ, 418. the 66. year of his age, and 32. of his reign. whereupon I can not rightly express the dolour & sorrow that the courageous knights his Subjects received with his most private and best friends. In so much that (as recounteth us the History) there were such of them as remained two or three Months, without power to refrain themselves from weeping and lamenting most bitterly, when as it came to them in mind of the Bounty and Virtue of that noble Prince. And chiefly the worthy old Candior Duke of Normandy, a Prince surely amongst the Sage and hardy, much commendable. Nevertheless as there is no grief so great, which in course of time (a quite consumer of all things) is not put forth of remembrance: So for just cause this good Lord of Normandy, together with the rest which were most doleful for the loss of a King so debonair and virtuous, at last made end of their plaints and lamentations. And for just cause say I, in that he left them for successor, a Son of his, begotten by his dear and loyal Spouse and Wife Florixe (which not many years before had departed this life) which said son after the death of his Father was Heir, not only of his terreine Dominions and Possessions, but also of his most rare and singular virtues. For besides that he was a good knight, prudent and hardy past measure, being of a large stature, his members well made, formed and proportioned in equality, the one with the others, of six or seven and twenty years of age▪ or there abouts: he was also had in reputation for the most sage, modest & courteous Prince of his time. In so much that (to make brief) no man could require or wish any thing proper or convenient for so great a parsonage as his, whereof his valiancy and invincible prowess was not beautified and adorned. This same was called Floridamant, the which did never find man (of what force or puissance soever he were) who daring to Just with him, had not given plainly to feel and understand, that he was peerless and not matcheable. For this cause there was no knight in all Brittaigne the Great, which at his new arrival to the Crown, did not deliberate and determine to convert and turn the lamentations and weepings of his Father's death into joys and gladness, for having after the loss of a good Lord and Master, recovered and received a better king. To whom there lacked so little, that he should degenerate from the bounty and goodness of his predecessor, that by his virtue (which rather more than less did him illustrate) he did in such sort strive and endeavour in equality of valiancy, and good behaviour to imitate and counteruale him, that his Knights, Princes and Barons, with other of his Vassals and Servants, thought in no wise to have changed their Master: who unwilling to omit any jot of his great magnificence, a while after his Coronement, made and gave so many fair and Godly Gifts and Presents, not only to the courageous knights his Subjects, but also to such strangers as were come to visit him, and to make offer to him of their service (being nothing ignorant that liberality rendereth men subject and bound towards those which use it:) that there was not he, which pricked and provoked with a desire to do him agreeable service, (so much his lenity and liberality had charmed and enchanted their affections,) would not willingly have put his life in hazard, for the maintenance & conservation of his honour. And for that, that a little afore the decease of the good king Brandismel his Father, he had espoused the daughter of king Barrachen of Scotland, named Bellizenne, a Princess as sage and virtuous, as fair and gracious (for few there were) who then for beauty & good grace, durst compare with her:) There were come to visit him, the two valiant Princes, Hubert of Scotland, Brother to the Queen Bellizenne, and Dorian, Son to the king of Spain, which had aforetimes been companion of Arms, and achieved many Exploits and haughty enterprises with him. He determined to address and make ready all sorts of recreations and pastimes, the more honourably to feast and entertain them, as to appoint Ius●●●ges and tourneys for the love of Noble Dames and Ladies, and to conduct them to the Chase of wild Boars, Hearts, Roebuckes, and other such like beasts. But as he enforced himself to show them such, and all other like pleasant recreations and pastimes, whereof he could be advised: Fortune, which by her mobility & inconstancy, never suffereth things in one esse, nor abiding, but (like to the immutation of the Sun, which sometimes dareth us his Rays and Beams most resplendent, clear and bright, and his pleasant smiling visage, sometimes again covered and overwhelmed with an infinite number of thick and dark Clouds or Mists, to us appearing obscure and dark, causeth to fall upon us a multitude of waterish and rainy showers) strait ways is to us friendly and favourable, letting us savour and smell the sweet taste of an infinite number of delights and pleasures, by and by contrariwise turning upsidedoune the order of humane affairs by a change and alteration of dolours and sorrows, which she mingleth & produceth amongst her voluptuos enticements, & bringeth us most often, of anguishes and dolours, a multitude innumerable: making us feel as much bitterness in the end, as she hath in the beginning brought pleasure) ne permitteth long these Princes (which as then had none other care, but to make good cheer, and too entertain each one (of the Queen's Dames and damozels which were full fair and gracious, whom he bore most affection unto) to enjoy these delights & pastimes, without depriving them thereof, shortly, and that by the most strange adventure whereof ever was made mention. For so it chanced that the new king Floridamant being in his Palace at London in estate and form above recounted, accompagnied with the Prince's Hubart of Scotland, and Dorian of Spain, purposing at after dinner to go to course an Heart which he had seen that morning in a Wood near to Miranaol, which was a Castle of one mile's distance from the Town, given by the king to his new espoused wife, at certain seasons there to recreate, and refresh herself when she should think good. The which, besides the Architecture and magnificent buildings, with diversities of works, whereof it was framed and wrought, the most pleasant and rich of all others, as then to be seen, was in like manner so delectable and pleasant, because of the said wood wherewith it was environed, more than a miles compass about, that it was unpossible to join aught thereunto, to give enlargement to the perfection thereof, in all that which one could desire or wish to a place of like pleasance, there entered into the Hall a damosel of mean beauty, whose countenance, to see to, seemed so bedewed with tears & dolefulness, that one would have thought that of long time she had done nothing but weapt and lamented, in that as yet appeared along her face the trickling Tears, distilling by gross and great drops. This same Damsel apperceiving the king, whom she seemed well to know, came to prostrate and fall down on her knees before him, and sighing bitterly (each one having pursued her to understand that which she would say) she spoke on this sort. Most puissant king, in whom all bounty and worthiness of Chivalry and virtue abounds, more than in any other under Heaven, the same of your prowess, humanity, courtesy and value (which so often hath flowed from the one till the other side of the world) hath caused me to come from far even to these Coasts, to request and beseech your Royal highness (the which I trust is not dispuruaied of mercy ne pity) that taking compassion of the most unfortunate and miserable Damsel that liveth, it may please you, in respect of the order of knighthood, which you have taken, not to deny me your succour and aid, against the most presumptuous & wicked wight that liveth on the Earth. For (said she drawing a sorrowful sigh from the bottom of her heart) I am of opinion, that none (my Lord) but you, hath power to secure me in this case, so fierce and puissant is the disloyal wight, which hath wrought me this wrong. But I having so great confidence and affiance in your bounty and prowess, suppose that you only may match him and give him the overthrow, which hath been cause, that rejecting all fear and shame through the necessity which oppressed me, thus overboldly and unreverently I have dared to beseech your Royal highness, to be so favourable to me in this my so urgent affair, assuring myself that not forgetting in any point the duty of a wise and valiant knight (such a one as you are accounted) which is to secure Ladies & Damsels afflicted as I am, you will not gainsay ne deny me of the request which I pretend to make to you: for that no man ever heard say, that for cowardice or slackness (vices which lodge not in you) you ever disdained, or discourteously denied any other, who (as I now do) requested you to give them, aid and secure. After that she had made an end of her tale, the king (which had seen her in speaking, weep so bitterly, and three or four times to break of with such continual and hearty sighs and sobs, that there was no heart so hard, cruel and unpitiful, which she would not have moved to compassion) took such pity of her, that having caused her to stand up, where afore she kneeled, he made her this answer. Damsel tell me hardly in what affairs my succour may serve and be favourable unto you: promising you that nothing forgetting my duty, I will hazard my life to sustain your right, or at the leastwise I will know what therein you have. Then the Damsel greatly appeased & satisfied, with so good and gracious an answer, thanking him for the same with a low reverence, coloured her visage with somewhat more joy than she brought, therein painted a while afore, and ceasing her tears said unto him: Than I desire you Sir, to give me audience, while I make you a recital of my ill luck and misfortune, and attentively to understand the form of mine adventure more unhappy than any other, whereof ever mention was made since the memory of man. Wherein it is meet you know, that I am by birth of the Land of Thrace, and Daughter of a Noble and virtuous King, named Minoberis, who in his time hath been as strongt and valiant in Arms, as any other whatsoever, but so smallly favoured of Fortune, that now she suffereth him to consume the rest of his age, so miserably as is possible to imagine: for that he liveth in a Prison made cruel and tyrannous, with a torment ten hundredth times more sharp than the horror of death itself. And thus it chanced that one day, as he was in the quest and pursuit of strange adventures to make proof of his force and valour, & also to get praise and honour (the only Guerdon of Illustrious and gentle hearts, as all wandering knights accustomably do) passing by chance through a certain Forest, he encountered a wild Boar, which being stricken and wounded through the body with a Dart, came and fell down not far from him stark dead, which he apperceiving, took and charged upon his horse to carry it away: but as he began to depart, there came towards him another knight of so small stature, that he exceeded not the height of two or three cubits, but therewith so strong and puissant, that no knight nor Giaunte whatsoever, might endure his force, and for this cause so fierce and presumptuous, that if he saw any thing to him not agreeable, were it wrong or right, he would have it. This fellow seeing the pray which my Lord and Father carried, said to him very stoutly, that he either should deliver & give to him the wild Boar out right, or otherwise he would let him understand that it was not for such a one as him to gainsay any thing to him agreeable, My father, which had his Heart so fixed and settled, and who was of so great courage, that he could in no wise suffer so presumptuous a brag: to him answered, that he should not have it without conquest made by the point of the Sword. Whereon the little knight which had to name Nabot, was so chaffed and enraged, that putting without more words his hand upon his Sword, he stroke my miserable father so rudely upon the head, that at the first blow he brought him down all astonished from his Horse to the ground: whereon after he had laid the wild Boar, he took my Father betwixt his arms and carried him into the most strange and Butcherous Prison, that ever was heard spoken of. For besides that, he hath clogged his feet with great and weighty Gives of Y●on, he ne giveth him all the day to eat aught else, but a Morsel of most salt Bacon, without drinking more than once in two days, of the most odious and corrupt Water that is to be found: and when as he purposeth to take his journey any where on Horseback, he causeth him to be brought forth to crouch to the ground, that he setting his foot upon his back, may make him serve for a Stirrup to mount on Horseback: then sending him back to his Prison again, causeth him to be scourged and tormented most cruelly. I knowing this (my Lord) have been often before him, to entreat him to have my Father ransomed, at what he would require. But he therein hath always gainsaid me, manafing me with like cruelty, if in fix Months I could not prepare and present a knight which should be able in jousting, to bring him from of his Horse. Which thing I endeavouring to do, have brought him already, full many: part whereof he hath slain, and part whereof he hath put in a prison far more miserable than that of my poor Father. In so much that now ignorant, of what wood to frame mine Arrows, I have enterprised to make this rash request which you have hard. So much hoping in that bounty and prows which above all others, maketh you esteemed through each coast of the universal world, that it shall be you only, who shall have power by putting to death the cruel and disloyal Nabot, to deliver me from the mortal and languishing dolour, which for long space hath made in me residence, giving to him liberty which hath begotten me.  
The king having well heard the purpose of the Damofell: and supposing her to have said true, deliberated to secure her aswell for the necessity which she seemed to have of aid and assistance, as to prove himself against that Nabot, of whom he had often heard speak, and for whom he had searched in many Countries to do the same, without ever finding him at all. And seeing than, when he lest thought thereof, the occasion too be ministered so to fit his purpose, to make proof of the force and valiancy of his person, by encountering with that mighty Nabot, he would not let it slip so. Yea chief for so just an occasion as that of the Damoselles. In such wise, that it was not possible what pithy reasons socuer one alleged to distourne and stay him from going alone into Thrace, there to combat for so just a Quarrel. Whereof the Queen Bellizenne was much grieved and discomforted, praying most instauntlie the valiant and hardy Prince, Hubert of Scotland her brother to bear him company, which thing he promised her to do. Yet the king in no wise would suffer nor permit it: but deeply vowed and swore to travel solely with the Damsel, to give accomplishment to his promise, whereof she was much inyous, who instauntlie putting herself in way, spurring her Palfrey in the flank with all diligence possible: And the king which was furnished of all Armour, necessary for the Combat, and eke well Horsed, pursued her as fast as his Horse would run a grand gallop. After whose departure all the Worthies which as then were resident in his Court retired home, abandoning the same in such sort, that of the xii. courageous Peers of the said Britain the Great, there remained but the king Ferrande of Norway only, which because of his faithfulness and bounty, was appointed Governor of the Realm in the absence of king Floridamant: and the prudent prince Candior Duke of Normandy, the which, because of the sudden absence of their king were greatly sorrowful and astonished. Notwithstanding taking it patiently, they made of necessity a virtue, for letting cease their late dolours, they betook themselves to comfort in best wise they could, the desolate Prince's Bellizenne, which for sorrow and yrksomnes tare her hairs, & committed many such foolish acts of a frantic woman, & one without sense. Which thing the prudent Prince Ferrande of Norway seeing, counseled her (thereby the better to forget her grief) to go sport herself at Myrandol, as she did, where chanced to her that which you may perceive in the Chapters following. For we there must now leave her to make recount of that which happened too the king after his departure with the damosel.   

Who was the damosel which led away the King Floridamant, and who was the Necromancian Minofoll which had builded, by his enchantments, the superbious and sumptuous edifice of the read Castle. And also how the king lost the Damsel in a thick wood, replenished with wild and savage beasts, where his Horse being dead under him, he hard the lamentable voice of a certain Damsel which complained most bitterly. Towards whom as he marched to secure her, he recountered a Knight, whom after a fierce and tedious Combat he slew.  
¶ The second Chapter.  
WHEN once the desire of vengeance hath taken root in a malicious heart, full of fury and rage, There is no mean, way, nor thing, in humane puissance, neither, as I believe, in the enemy of Nature, that he (which hath conceived this foresaid hate against another) doth not invent, or dare not attempt to satisfy his will and wish, as may let us unsterstande the example of the Necromancian, whom I do mean to mentionate in this Chapter. Therefore it is to be understanded, that in great Britain there was an Itande adjoining to the said Realm, which men called the green I'll. Whereof a knight named Mynofol was Lord and ruler, who from his infancy had so bestowed his time in the art of Necromancy and supernatural Magic, that by the same he achieved many marvelous Matters, and impossible to many others who dealt there with to be less expert than he in his art. In manner that by his enchantments and diabolical charms he had builded in his Isle a Castle, the most sumptuous and magnificent that with man's eyes was ever seen. For the Son thereon gleaming his bright Rays and Beams from morning till evening, one would verily judge (so great was the force of his enchantments) that in stead of Stones, there were placed great Rubies the most fair and beautiful of the world. And with reverberation of the same, the Air & Trees of the isle appeared as read as Fire, for a Miles compass about. And it was to be marveled greatly, how the knight Mynofol could build any so sumptuous and stately an Edifice, as the read Castle (so did the vulgar sort commonly name it) seeing that it was not in puissance of the greatest Monarque of the whole earth, to rear and construct another, which in perfection and sumptuosity of matter exquisite, miraculous, or artificial, was thereto comparable. And for what occasion he made the same, full many also were ignorant, but it is to be presupposed that it was not without cause why. For it behoveth you to understand, that the predecessor of Minofoll, which was somewhat akin and of alliance to the virtuous and mighty king Brandismel, pretending some right to the Realm of great Britain (out of the which by his ancestors he had been repudiate and rejected, for taking to wife the sister of Grandowine king of Cornwall and Ireland, which then as yet held the Pagan laws and believed on Mahounde, had wrought and before had tended many means and treasons against the Father of valiant King Floridamant, which never lay in his power to execute as he pretended, without danger of the total ruin both of him and his, which was the cause, that his Son Minofol being as then young, and of tender age, he caused him to learn with great heed and diligence, the Arts of Necromancy, by studying the books of Medea, Circe, Morgue, and other such. To the intent to revenge himself of king Brandismel, by such means as Medea took vengeance of the injury done to her, by her unfaithful and perjured friend jason. But God which by his bountifulness, doth still regard those which follow the right ways and Paths, which he hath appointed for them, with a piteous and merciful eye, to take away all means and ways from the traitor Lord of the green I'll of annoiing the king of great Britain, suffered that death should send hynt down to hell, there to serve in the boatman Charon's Barge, afore he ever saw his son Minofol well experimented in his art, to bring to an end his perverse pretence and wicked wil This same Minofol notwithstanding, being once acertained by his Mother, for what occasion his father had caused him from his tender years so curiously to be endoctrined, & taught in this devilish Art (in the which, since he was arrived to good age) he was so skilful and expert, that few like to him were as then to be found. As one that was of his Father's nature and disposition, that is to wit, a Traitor, wicked, and revengeative, he imagined in his fantasy too put in execution the purposed pretence of his predecessor. And for to bring to pass the same, he still had tarried till after the death of the good king Brandismel (seeing no means during his life to finish his conspiracy, and vengeable falshodde) that having built the red Castle, whereof I have afore spoken, he addressed the damosel toward the King Floridamant, to require him of that you have hard above recited, knowing him prompt and hardy to give succour, and aid to Dames and Ladies wronged and offended. And for that he knew, he had often times, searched for Nabot to combat with him, to the end to entrap and withdraw him more easily to him, he appointed him the message, which you have fully seen in the Chapter precedent. For that the Damsel, daughter to the knight Minoberis, which Nabot had in prison, had soon perceived him to put in practice, to deliver her Father, which thing he denied her: And so making his profit of her request, instructed the damosel his cousin of the Plot before specified: who played so well her part that she brought the King alone after her, which pursued her, so as is afore said, as fast as his horse could galoppe, without ever attaining to her. For she had a palfrey possessed with a Devil, which the Magician there had by his enchantments put: for that he went so swift, that of all that day naught did he but troth, without ceasing, or resting: and the damosel rapped him excessively, feigning to have great haste, until such time as the nocturnal darkness, had chased far into the West, the shining chariot of Phaeton: then she arrived in a forest thick. and dark, being obscured by the manifold branches of mighty Dakes, which there were innumerable, in so much that one could see there no more (I think) then within the most darksome den of the profound and infernal hell. Wherein being entered far afore, the King who still pursuing her as near as possibly he could, at last lost sight of her: and not knowing where she was become, he stayed somewhat his horse, to hearken if he could any whit understand the trampling of her Palfreys feet, thereby to follow her trace: but that was in vain. For he heard nothing else, but an infinite noise and yelling of savage beasts, as Bears, wild Boars, Lions, and such like, which made so great a yelling, that there scarce one could have heard the bouncing clapps of sounding Thunder. Whereof I leave you, to think if the king had occasion or not, to be astonished, and greatly abashed. In that I deem none so sure and stable, which would not have been afraid at that time, to approach and enter a place so dangerous. notwithstanding he was of so magnanimous and haughty a courage, that, that seemed to himself less than nothing: saving that he could no more find out his guide and conductress. But endeavouring himself to search for her, it was unpossible to make his horse either to go forward or backward, what blows or spurs soever he could use. And whether it was for the weariness and feebleness of his limbs, or for fear that he had to see himself in a place so hideous, after he had been long time pricked and spurred: he on a sudden fell groveling to the earth, whereof the good king Floridamant being advised, and wightly forsaking the Saddle, set foot on ground, and leaning his Elbow against a Tree, with his head against his hand, remained a long space in that fort, astonished much and marvelously: so ill stood his case, until such season as he heard far before him in the Forest a voice Feminine, which complained most bitterly. Then plucking up his heart, he thought to have been, in no danger at all, and blaming himself for having remained sad and pensive so long, was somewhat eased in that he had heard a humane voice, in a place so rough and savage, wherein he deemed nothing else to have been, but outrageous and cruel beasts. And deliberated (supposing that to be his Damsel, which some one had offended) to go to that place were he deemed her to be. And to secure her the better: he cook his naked Sword in his hand, and his Shield upon his Arm: wherewith marching through the Forest, he encountered a Knight thoroughly armed, and horsed as well as was possible, which in appearance seemed to be fraught with hardiness. To whom he said with great anger Sir Knight, wherefore is it that you have so outrageously and cowardlike misused a damosel which came in my company, whom not long since I have heard complain here aboytes. It well appeareth, that you care not for that order of knighthood which you have taken, when in lieu of defending Dames wronged, and outragioussye dalt withal, you enforce yourself to damage and injury them thus. But by my head I swear, I will give you to know, that it is right ill done of you, to have committed so great wickedness and villainy. During which words the knight which doubted little, that after his hot and many words, he would have used such sharp deeds as he did, for fear jest the King should kill his Horse: set foot on earth saying. By GOD, vassal, you have falsely lied, for I know not of what damosel you spoke, rather I believe it is yourself, which have misused one whom I have heard complain. But for fear lest I should accuse you of that villainy, whereof you speak, you are come to prevent me: pursuing with your sword to kill my horse, by that means to make me fall, and to slay me more easily: but yet you are further out of your account, than you are ware of. Notwithstanding, seeing you are so well prepared to Combat, I will give you thereof your fill. Then began he to press full boldly upon the king, who receiving him with marvelous hardiness, after the receipt of some of his adversaries blows upon his Shield, which through the first weight & violence thereof, was pierced in divers places, entreated him at last (after a long Combating, without having advantage the one of the other) in such and so rude a manner, that the knight which thought himself not matcheable, wished in mind that he had not met with such a mate. Always (notwithstanding) defending himself the best that he could, made in a manner that the meddling was so hard and sharp as ever was seen of two knights only. Whereof the king greatly marvelling, having never found knight that made him so long resistance, entered into so deep choler, that yrked with the long durance of the Combat, he took his Sword in both hands, and with the same discharged with all his force, a stroke so violent upon the crest of his adversaries Helmet, that neither the Shield which he cast before it, neither the good workmanship of his Harness could ward or warrant it: without being battered and crushed together, and the Sword passing further, well near cut his head in twain. By this means he was constrained to fall down all bloody dead thereby. Whereof the king was exceeding joyous, as well for having ended a Combat so dangerous, whereof he never hoped to have had so good a dispatchall, as in that he had recovered an Horse to carry him forth in quest of his Damozell: But he kept him not long after, as ye shall hear in the Chapter following.   

How King Floridamant lost the Horse which he had conquered of the Knight he slew, of which he was bereaved by the subtle fetch of a crafty Thief, which was resident in the Forest, from which after he had departed, he met with an Heremit which gave him to eat certain chestnuts, and other roots of Herbs in his Hermitage, from whence being issued, he did so much, that he arrived on the sea coast, where he found a Spirit in humane form and shape, which by the commandment of the Magicien Minofoll, after he had made him enter into his boat, brought him into the Green Island, where he was taken, and put in prison in the Red Castle.  
¶ The third Chapter.  
AFter that the noble King Floridamant, was seized of the knights horse whom he had slain, he mounted on him, to assay if by travelling now this, now that way, he could find any path, which might conduct him out of the forest, intending to seek some lodging, to pass with rest the small remnant of the night that was to come: but seeing that where so ever he went, he found naught but grass for his pillow, and ground for his bed; and travailed in vain to depart thence, he was constrained, having tied his horse to the branch of a tree, to couch himself under the coverture of the clear dewy night, within an hollow Daken Tree which was in the Forest, where all night (which seemed to him longer than the Siege of Troy) it was not possible for him to sleep any whit at all, which brought to pass that he arose in the morning, four hours before his wont use, at any ever here afore. For scarce began the reddish and fiery messenger of the day, to drive out from the Sky the dareksom shade of the night to procure place, to the brightness of the clear shining Son beams, but he was already horsed, and had in many places, searched the Damozell which had caused him come thither, intending to finish his voyage.  
But as he turned from one side to the other of the Forest, he arrived by chance in place where the night afore he had tied his horse, which he coveted greatly, as being far better then that which he had gotten: and looked on each side if he could see or aperceive him. But not espying him, he proceeded somewhat further, where as it were in thick of the Forest, he heard a certain neighing, which sounded to the ear, as proceeding properly from some Horse, which caused that thinking, that that was his, he alighted to assay to take him, because the place where he thought he had heard him, was so thick and full of little Shrubs, that it was unpossible for any man to traveli there, but on foot. Then going thus through the forest, thitherward where he heard the neighing (the which the more he went forward, the further of was it) he was brought into such extremity, that after long and vain toiling through hedges and bushes, he lost and dismissed himself from the path, by the which he was come into the most thick of the Forest. Notwithstanding he did so much at last by going and coming from one place to another, that within two hours after, he began to find a path which conducted him strait to the place, where he had left his horse tied to a little Tree. Whereof he was somewhat joyous, but his joy endured small time. For when he was arrived, he found him not there. Whereof he become far more astonished and sorrowful then afore, for he had bound him so well, that in no wise he could escape to flee away, as in deed he was not fled, but (as writeth the Historian Gallarx) he was taken and stolen by the subtle shift and craft of a good fellow, which was commonly called the wily outlaw, remaining in that forest. And wily outlaw might he well be called, in that very few passed that way, of what disposition or quality soever he were, whom he had not by some means rob of somewhat always: as he now did these two Horses of the kings. For the evening before during the time he fought with the knight, whom he slew, this Thief had filched and stolen him, which in following the Damozelles Palfreie all the day before, was laid down on the ground for faint and feebleness: and that morning being determined to get somewhat by such as passed by, according to his custom, aperceiving the king passing that way, being mounted on an other Horse, had great desire of him to bear him company, to the intent to get that other horse also. And to bring the thing he purposed to pass, he went neighing through the Forest like an horse, feigning so well the matter, that the king hearing him, believed steadfastly that it was his Horse, whom to pursue he was alighted. But during the while he was in the rough Forest in quest of the same, the Roister was come to take away the other, by an other bypath which he well knew.  
Whereof the king was so vexed and weary, in that (as a Lackey) it behoved him to go a foot, that he began to curse and ban the damosel, which was wandered and strayed from him, repenting him (but to late) of his folly. Notwithstanding, he travailed so far a foot (for falling) here and there, that about midday he began to abandon the Forest: a mile from the which, he met an Eremite in a four cornered path, who kneeling devoutly afore the Cross, read busily his Matins, with spectacles on his nose: for he was so old and feeble, that he saw but little, in so much that the King was full near, afore he could descry him. But seeing him armed as he was, the visier of his helm being let down, he had of him so great fear, that thinking he was some evil Spirit, or Phantasm, began straightewaies to mark himself with the sign of the Cross, one while himself, an other while the King, mumbling with his mouth many suffrages, and holy Prayers in Latin to conjure him. Which the king seeing, & knowing his fear, to assure him 〈◊〉 better, took his head piece of, & having humbly saluted him, reasoned with him in this sort: For God's sake Father, (said he) be you nothing astonished of me, for I am naught else but as you are: also tell me where I might find a place to repose myself, and take some refection: for since yesterday Morning, have I neither eaten nor drunken, whereby I feel myself so feeble and weak, that with pain I can uneath sustain myself. The good man Eremite hearing him speak of God, having taken courage to him, answered him in Latin with like words: Man, I know not what thou demandest, but if thou wilt vouchsafe to repose thyself in my little cell, I will give thee to drink water of the clear Fountain, which is there near unto us, and also I have some Chestenuttes, and roots of Herbs boiled since yester night, whereof if thou wilt thou mayest eat. The King which understood Latin, knew well that he could speak no other ways: wherefore he answered him in the same language, that he was thereof content.  
In so much being come into the hermits Cell, he eat with a reasonable good appetite certain chestnuts, the which the old man gave him very daintily, deeming by himself that few would suffice him: after which having drunken a good cup of the foresaid Fountain water he departed, (not without great thanks to the Eremite given) reasonably well satisfied, with the sustenance of that sumptuous banquet.  
Then did he nothing but travail till it was near night. that he arrived on the Sea cost, where he found a boat, in which was a man sleeping full sound, whom, first having awaked him, he required if he could transport him into any haven, where he might embark himself, to go to the Realm of Thrace: and the man answered him, yea: and that he was thereof right well content: and that same evening he would bring him, where he should be lodged, in the most magnificent Castle that ever he saw. The King being joyous, and right well paid of so good an hap, entering the boat, nothing knowing how to take the words of his Ferie man: but to soon (alas) he knew them to his great damage. For scarce was he a mile from the shore, when he saw not his man within the boat, well might he perceive the Oars to move, and trail forward the boat, upon the waves of the Sea, with so great celerity and swiftness, as though some one had moved them: whereof he was more astonished and abashed, then ever he was of any other thing, that ever had chanced in his life. Notwithstanding he yet rejoiced somewhat, that the sea was calm, and quiet, having none other wind to toss or trouble it but a sweet and pleasant Zephyrus. And having remained in this fort, wandering solely upon the sea, without trouble of any Tempest, having naught to eat but certain course bread, pieces whereof he found in the Boat, till such time as he might discover and perceive, in the morning when the Sun began to shine upon that part, where his vessel pretended to take Land, a fair Island garnished and munited with a multitude of fair levy Trees, and grassy green Meadows, and in the midst thereof, approaching nearer and nearer, the haughty Towers, of an exceeding fair Castle which there was pight. And issuing forth into the isle, to find some one which might tell him what Country that was, he saw moreover in one coast of the same, the air as read as flaming fire. Then much marveling what adventure that might be, determined so still to walk, till he might find one that might tell him the novelties thereof. But he had not gone past a Mile, but he met with twelve knights armed at all points from head to foot, and with them a mighty band of villains, with Bats and staves, armed with great jacks and old rusty Halberds, whom having courteyously saluted, he was so hardy as to inquire why the air was so read in that part of the isle whereto he drew near: but they answered him, that they were thereof ignorant, and that going somewhat further he should know the certainty thereof. They scarce had passed him a bowshoote, but that they came suddenly and encompassed him on all parts: and so many as were there already afore embushed, assailed & assaulted the miserable Prince on all sides. Who willing to defend himself, flew the two first, which were over hasty to lay hands upon him. Nevertheless the rest leaping altogether upon him with one blow took him, and depriving him of all defence, bound him straightly with great Cheanes of Iron. Then leading him towards the Castle, which he had seen, put him into a most strange and wretched Prison, where we leave him to lead a long and miserable life, until occasion serve to show you the mean of his delivery. To the end that I may set forth to you, that which chanced to the Noble Queen Bellizenne, his wife, whom he had left great with child at his departure.   

Of the marvelous dole and sorrow that Bellizenne made after the departure, and also during the absence of king Floridamant her spouse: and how being at Myrandoll, as she walked forth in the Forest, she travailed of the Infante Gerileon, for whose birth, the Princes Ferand of Norway and Dom Grandilaor caused and addressed jousts and Turnays', wherein they protested to answer all comers, where chanced a marueilowes' adventure, after the which, they finished the ire justinges whereof the said Ferrand and Grandilaor bore away the price and were victorious.  
¶ The fourth Chapter.  
NEVER Dido after the departure of the fugitive Trojan Aeneas, felt such grief in her mind, neither more was the sorrow of Phyllis, after the long expectation of her dear friend Demophoon: then the noble Queen Bellizenne, felt of grievous and vudurable assaults, being ministered daily to her on all sides, by the violence of a multitude of mortal and unsupportable anguishes & griefs, than, when she chanced too think of the horrible and boisterous blasts of wind which sometimes she heard beat against the Windows of the pleasant Castle of Mirandol, the showers and Tempests, the mutation of times, perilous Shipwrecks, and innumerable dangers, which her loyal spouse Floridamant endured. She could he in no place, but (losing all countenance and colour, were she in her Chamber or in her Garden, were she in the presence or absence of any one too drive away her dolour and sadness) but she did sheéde and let fall an infinite number of tears, which gushing from out her eyes, bedewed with great drops along, the delicacy and pleasantness of the colour, wherewith her ruddy and Vermilion Cheeks were polished and adorned. So that in full short space, she become so lean and difformed, as well for not having guarded herself at the beginning, from giving place to these griefs and anguishes, as also by feeling the unaccustomable annoys and griping griefs wherewith the fruit which she had couceived in her womb daily increasing, did oppress her, that there was none of her Barons nor knights, which thereof was not greatly abashed and sorry, but espespecially the sage Prince Ferrand of Norway, who greatly forcing himself, with many good reasons and comfortable admonitions, to appease the vehemency of her Passions, seeing in the end that he but lost time, left that trade, & devised to study & employ his care wholly to the government, of the Realm of great Britain, as to his charge belonged: leaving the old Grandilaor Duke of Normandy, for guard to the Queen and her Damoselles, who never after the departure of the king, had removed from Myrandoll. Where upon a day as she walked alone in the Forest, wandering from the company of her Ladies and Damoselles, as accustomably she did, to commence her wonted Plaints and Lamentations in a little Cabinet of White Thorn, which with great Artificie and industry she had purposely caused to be builded, by the most expert crafts men she could find, there chanced her this piteous adventure, which you shall hear. It is to be noted, that as the Queen went so wandering by the Forest, the term naturally prefixed and ordained to humane Creatures, to abandon and forsake the entrails of their Mother, to enjoy the light of this world, was expired and consummate, assoon as she was arrived in her Cabinet, (so as, before that she began her complaint, she was intentive of hear the delectable and pleasant murmurings, and hushing noises of sweet running Brooks, which were there, which a while before were become mute, their Waters stayed of they course, by the heat and rigour of the little heavenly Dog, which having removed and given place to the Star most moist, had that day, as it were divinely received their floating voice, and of Birds which then being assembled in great number, did marvelously discloase the natural and melodious Harmony of their Sysuan Braunchye Songs, according so well, that they seemed of purpose to recreate and bring joy to the instant birth, of the noble infant Royal, or rather if it were possible, to ravish her heart with so great gladness, that her Sense of hearing, remaining ravished & attached with the Echo and resounding of their voices, she should feel less travel in her Childing. She began to feel so grievous a pain, that pressing her belly, with her two hands, homely resting herself against the branches of a Tree, supposing her entrails to be plucked out of her belly, she made the most marvelous dole and lamentation that could be thought, and betook herself after a while to cry so shrilly, that one of her damozels named Antiziliane, daughter to the king of Swethelande, so curioussy took regard unto her, fearing that which had chanced, that whither soever she went, she never forsook her, and having heard her cry, she ran diligently thither. But she could not so soon arrive, but that she found her rather dead than alive, & stretched along upon the green Grass, whereat she was much displeased, & yet also joyous, seeing her delivered of a little Babe so fair, large and well featured, that he seemed not to have come into the world but to be highly set by. Which she taking in her Arms, after she had washed and made him clean in a River, there veer at hand, she kissed & rekissed more than a hundred and a hundred times. Then presenting him to his Mother, which took him sweetly between her two Arms, she gave herself to consolate and recomfort her the best that she could. But she having left & let pass the late & painful travail of her childing, said to her with a soft and mild voice. That she should with all speed go to bespeak an Horse Litter to transport her to the castle, whereto the Damozell son obeyed, leaving her sole & alone in the compagnie of her little infant, whom she began to buss & behold with a Million & more, of amiable and motherly looks. And even as she earnestly beheld him in every part, she perceined in him a thing most marvelous. That is to wit, a little place in his back drawing toward the right side, full of hear, and like in purtrature to a fierce and fell Lion, having his Tongue out of his mouth, whereby she had hope that he should in time become an hardy and valiant Knight. Seeing that there was none other reason but that nature had brought forth, signed and marked it in such form for some such purpose.  
But during this thought of hers, behold there arrived a troop of Knights and Damoselles, which brought thither a fair horse litter, all wrought within with Blue velvet, who went with great haste toward the place where the Queen was: and finding her in the same taking, that the damosel Antiziliane had left her, lifting her up softly, laid her in a good bed which was in the Litter, with the little baby by her, whom her damosel wrapped & covered with rich clothings, brought ready for that purpose: which done, they quickly conveyed her to the Castle of Mirandol. Where they no sooner arrived, but the Prince Ferrand of Norway, which was in the City of London, without further delay, with a great troop of illustrious and valiant knights, came to visit her, much joyous and pleased of so good an adventure, trusting that now the Queen would for ever after, leave of her griefs and complaints: who gave him in charge to 'cause the Infant to be baptised whom she would have to bee-named GERILEON, with the greatest joy and sumptuous preparation, that she could prepare: not letting pass, either justs, tourneys, or any other pastimes, which could be invented. And expressly commanded that those, who for the loss of their King, were clad in Black attire, should exchange of them, for others of diverse colours more gay, and pleasant: whereto they with all diligence obeyed.  
For after the Baptism of the infant (the which in great pomp and magnificence, the King Ferrande of Norway, himself had holden over the font, with the maid Antiziliane: the one in the name of the King Belligent of France, who was a great friend to the King Floridamant: The other representing the Person of the Queen of Scotland) they caused to be made ready the Lists win the City of London, in the great place of the Palace, & the next day to make Proclamation of the public joustings, on the behalf of the Prince Ferrande of Norway, and his courageous cousin Grandilaor, who in justing challenged all goers & comers for the price: whereof he prescribed two gay Jennets of Spain, white as Swans, trapped and harnessed with Velvet of the same colour, all embroidered and wrought with fine gold of Cyprus, wholly to remain to them, which were not dishorsed at the justs. And they proclaimed that whosoever should take in hand this match, should give to the victors one of the fairest, and most rich tokens, that ever they had received of their Mistresses: and if perchance there were found any, who having fixed and set his affection, in a place too haughty and difficile, were so unfortunate in his Loves, that he never had received any, he should be bound, and holden to fast wholly three days, without either meat or drink, saving bread and water, and he should fulfil his promiss.  
Moreover it was also said, that all those which should protest that they were free, & exempt from the flames of love, should go kneel down before the Damosels of the Queen Bellizenne, kissing their feet, and the stones in their rings, which they had on their fingers with all humility. Which thing being known, every one of the knights, who heard these justs proclaimed in so strange and unusual condition, said to the Herald, who had to name Geliaste the joily: What is that (saith he) that may be done in am of kissing the rings of their fingers, if by chance some of the Dames want them. It shall be expedient, Sir knight, no displeasure (said the Herald) that if you be of the vanquished side, and want a Mistress with rings, that you may go kiss them, Mum: ye wots where. At this cloaked knavish answer, was great laughter moved, not only to the bystanders, but also to the knight to whom he spoke, who (although he saw himself mocked) was little or nothing thereat displeased.  
But (to come to the matter again) the joustings being openly Proclaimed, as is afore said, one might have seen knights of all parts, to prepare themselves to the same, on the one side of the Lists: and on the other side the two brave warriors Dom Ferrande of Norway, and Dom Grandilaor his Cousin, fully determined to make that day, such a proof of their knightly prowess, that worth lie they should be judged valiant at those justs above all others. And especially the young Grandilaor, who so felt his force and strength to redouble and increase, because of a certain white Plume of Feathers, which he carried upon the crest of his Helmet, given him that day by the damosel Antiziliane his Lady and Mistress, (for whose Love he felt great torments) that under her favour, he should behave himself so well at the justs, that he might become victorious, he entered first into the field, mounted upon a brave courser of Arabia, so well trained and paced, that to see him mannadge, career, and brave it in the air, one would have judged him of no less desire to the matter. than his master: who giving him the spur fively (as well he could) remained so sure and unmovable in the saddle, yea, and with such a grace, that to view him, there was none of the lookers on, which thought not verily that for his part, the Price of that Tourney should not be lost. And the like, said they of that valiant prince of Norway, who pursued him full near: for in prowess and Chivalry, he surpassed each other knight of great Britain. But as they were entered within the Barriers to combat, behold, the heaven began in less than an hour, to wax so dark, and too become so troubled with thick and stinking smoke, which remained in the air, more than a quarter of an hour, that the knights could not see from the one eude of the Lists to the other: in such sort that there was none so hardy and valiant, which was not greatly astonished and abashed at this sudden & strange mutation of time: for never any of them that were in that company, had seen the like chaunee. But yet they had more cause of marvel, when after having a while beholden through the the air, which waxed yet more dark, especially about the Castle, a multitude of hideous flames of fire, as red as blood, they heard such a terrible and unaccustomed thunderclap, that one would have said, that Satan with all the wicked spirits of the infernal Mansion, had been assembled to ruinated and pluck down the Castle, unto the very foundation: which straightewaies after, having brought there a terrible-feare upon them all, vanished. And being ceased, the air become in less than an hour; as clear and bright as afore. But those that were assembled in a troop, found themselves far dispersed each from others, ranged & scattered here & there more than a Bow shoot: because their horses being afraid of the great brute, which they had heard, did separate themselves the one from the other on every part. But seeing an old Tower, which was at the end of the old walls of the castle park, overcovered more than two Foot thick with Juie, some green, some withered, to be no more there, gathering than themselves together, they ran hastily towards that part, to see where it was become. And being there arrived, they found it all covered with ashes, & plucked in pieces smaller than dust: as also they perceived before the gate of the Castle, two great pillars of Marble white and grey, cut and pight four square, the most fair that might be seen, sustaining themselves above by an arch, most magnificentlie embossed and graven with works Damaskinne, under the which was the purtrature of a Maiden, richely-apparelled like a Nymph, and so fair that Beauty herself might not be named, but by her name: having a smiling countenance, wherein sparcled and shined so linely, the glimpsing clearness of two fair eyes, that it was sufficient, to lighten the night before the gate of the Castle, as though there had been two great Torches, for that purpose: and the residue so like a living creature, that nothing but only speech was in her wanting. And moreover this Maiden had about her neck, a great chain of gold, more of weight than a thousand talentes, the which hanged down a whole man's height before her feet. And at the end thereof hanged a Tablet wrought all about, and in the midst thereof were written these verses following, in letters of gold.  
The Lion's whelp being stolen away once by the Dove,  
The royal Eagle would with his beck cruelly,  
Pearce through his heart: but yet th'old Lion then set free,  
Being puissant shall him guard, that no mischance he prove.  
And in her right hand she had a little scroll, wherein was written this word Oziris, and in her left hand she had a branch of Olive: and upon one of the Pillars, six foot heigh from the ground, was engraven in Greek letters, the substance of these verses.  
Once enter did the Wolves the Forest thick into,  
With hunger to devour the flock most frail and weak:  
Likewise the Pastors of the tender younglings eke,  
Whereof full many fell, whom press did overthrow.  
And in the other, after the same manner were these here, which did depend upon the others, and made perfect the sense thereof.  
But the Dragon of whom the Pastor great is father,  
Them chasing him before, shall rest as conqueror:  
Then shall he be reknowne for son to the Pastor,  
Whom from extreme mischance he shall help and deliver.  
But it never rested in any of the knights powers, who read and revised it many times (whereof there was many that were well le●●ered and cunning) to know rightly how to interpret it. Which was cause that remaining marvelously astonished at this novelty, they retired all toward the place where the Lists were prepared, for to finish their enterprised Tourney: wherein was many a lance broken, and many a knight cast to the ground, by the valiancy of the two courageous knights Dom Ferrand of Norway, & his cousin Dom Grandilaor, whereon many did penance, and that great, for three days space after. And the two defendants gained much favour of many knights, which there acquired hate and disdain, in recompense of their Dames. For there was found but one, which was not amorous, and in Love, called Dom Gillant of Bartage, who was of the number of the twelve courageous knights of Great Britain, most hardy and cunning in his weapon, but in justs he was cast down to the earth by Dom Grandilaor, after the breaking of four staves, without removing himself: but at the fift he was dishorsed wherewith he was so chaffed and angered, that he would not perform the decrees of the game. Which thing Grandilaor seeing, said to him: Knight, will ye not go kiss the rings and feet of the Ladies, as it was accorded before we came to the Justes, the one against the other? Not, answered Dom Gillant: for I am not bound to do that against my william. And presently through the great displeasure he there took, he abandoned the Realm of Great Britain, to search for strange adventures. Which thing Geliaste the jolly seeing, who was there to deliver Lances to them that lacked, said to Grandilaor. For as much as I can see (sir) this knight will keep promise, for he will not let it go as yet. Truly he will keep it long, said Grandilaor smilynglie: for if he frame not himself to accomplish otherwise, he should have no power to escape from him. But whiles he discoursed thus with the merry & jolly Geliaste, he took of him a Spear, which he had in his hand, for that Dom Haroalt, which also was one of the xii. courageous knights of the Realm, approached to run against him: who seeing him with Spear in rest, pricked his Horse with the spurs, and came running upon him (who did the like) so rightly, that making their Spears fly in shivers, which had touched both their Shields, they performed bravely their Course without any manner moving from the Saddles. Wherefore taking new Spears more big and strong than the first, they came to the shock again so fiercely upon their Shields, that their Truncheons flying on high in the air, their Steeds met with such a fury, breast against breast, that, that of courageous Heroalt was constrained (as not being so strong as the other) to fall there down, and his Master by him. Assuring you that if Dom Grandilaor had not strongly reined the head of his Horse, he had measured himself also on the Earth. But he hare himself there so valiantly, that his Cousin Ferrand and he, remained all the day victorious, and so well countergarded themselves from being cast to the ground, that none had the puissance to win of them, the two white Steeds. Whereof (after that the Sun was gone down, and every one retired home) the valiant Grandilaor made a present to his Mistress Antiziliane, who thereof thanking him humbly, felt herself well content and satisfied of so great a favour, for they loved one an other greatly, because that the said Antiziliane was the fairest Damozell in all Britain the Great, and Dom Grandilaor one of the most fine, valiant, and hardy knights: as his deeds shall give you to understand hereafter.   

How the Queen Bellizenne caused the young Gerileon, to be nourished and taught, and of his childish gentility and noble acts in youth. During which time, Prince DORIAN of spain, which was gone to seek after King Floridamant his friend, was driven by tempest into the Green I'll, where he understood that the Traitor Mynofoll did levy an Army too invade the Realm of Great Britain. Wherefore being gone thither, he slew the say de Minofoll at one stroke with a Spear, and with the aid of the courageous Knights of great Britain discomfited all his Host. During which while, the young Gerileon, lost himself in the Forest, by pursuing a Phaisaunte: whereby the Queen through grieves and sorrow outraged, had slain herself, but for the sudden arrival of king Floridamant, who disturbed her in the Act.  
¶ The fift Chapter.  
THE joustings and Tourneys solemnized in the City of London, for joy of the late child birth of the Queen Bellizenne, dured the space of five days. In which season the Princes Ferrand and Grandilaor made such proof of their valiant prowess & haughty chivalry, that they still rested victors, to the great contentment of the fair Antiziliane. To whom Grandilaor gave all the jewels by him conquered, which he had won of the vanquished knights. But at th'end thereof, the virtuous Queen having abandoned, and left her childbed, caused them to cease: not able wholly to forget the sorrow and anguish, which the long absence of her loyal spouse brought unto her, but only at such times as she taking her little Infant between her arms, to yield some release to her dolour, she embraced him with a multitude of beholdinges & kisses, coming of natural love: Not knowing whether she aught to wail the long and irksome absence of her Husband (although not wholly void of hope to see him once again) or rather to rejoice and content herself with so lucky a burden. And in this perplexity she remained more than two years, now sad, now somewhat merry, living still and sustaining herself by the food of a certain hope, which yet sometime fed her with some consolation. During which time, she was so curious, and took so great heed, well to nourish & bravely to bring up the young Gerileon, that at two years ends, he was so big and jolly, that already he could both go and run: and prattled so prettily, that he could demand and ask for what ere he would have. In so much, that each one conjectured much of his future bounty and valour, by his young childish acts, accompagnied with such a natural gentility and magnanimity: which in him, within process of time, had such an increasement, that they seemed to surpass the self same course of his tender and young years. For scarcely had he arrived to the fourth year of his age, but that if by chance he saw any one being doleful and sad to lament, he had thereof so great compassion, that knowing the cause of his dolour, he endeavoured to recomfort him the best that he could, offering him all that he had for his contentment, and especially to the Queen his Mother, to whom, on a day when she healed him on her Lap, hearing her give a profound sigh, he spoke most gently on this sort, and said: Madam what aileth you? I pray you tell me why you sigh? Is there any that hath given you occasion of being angry? For if it be so, I assure you it shall not be unrevenged. The Queen hearing him speak with so good a grace, began to smile at his childish words, who with such and other like matters yielded often most great lightning to her passions and distresses.  
Moreover, he never remained idle: and moste commonly one should find him, either near to some horse, whereupon (leading him to some block, or such like thing) he set him self with so good a grace, that at sight thereof a man would have judged him, to have been the most dexterious squire or knight of all great Britain: or else taking a Staff, he went to assail some one or other, to try himself that ways against him: to whom, albeit he surpassed him in bigness of body, yet he reached him some times, by his nimbleness and activity, such hard blows, that commonly he was forced, to play double or quit with him. For in the science of Defence they trained, and brought him up so curiously, that at last he was therein as expert, not only as his teachers, but also as any other in the world in his time. Then again with a Dart in hand, he went tracing through the Forest to find some wild beasts: without fear of the which, no more than if they had been Dogs, if perchance he recountered any, he pursued them so fast in the Forest: that often times the Queen, which never was at ease, he being out of sight, set and sent folks every way to seek him.  
But what should I thus much strive, to discourse upon this point: seeing that as it is found by the writings of the Chronicler Galarx, one can not recite any thing fit and convenient, to an heart freight with nobleness and generosity, to which, this little prince applied not his mind: and behaved himself so well in all his childly enterprises, that making them tend to some gentle end, he seemed rather a man of ripe judgement, than a skilless Child and Infant.  
During the time that the young boy Gerileon thus increased, both in ago, virtue, strength, and gentleness of Spirit, the Queen his mother had made inquiry on all parts, as well for her brother Hubert of Scotland, whose loss brought much annoy to many, as also for the good knights Candior, Grandilaor, Acciall of Surrye, Sylban of Flanders, Melcior, and many others of the courageous of Great Britain, to know the cause of the long abode (which so much annoyed her) of king Floridamant, who being sent out to seek him towards all parts of the earth, could in nowise hear any news of him. Which thing being come to the ears of Prince Dorian of Spain, he was (by reason of the fervent love he had to him) so distressed for his loss, that he vowed and swore, never to sleep quietly, or in good rest, until such time as he might hear some news of him: in so much that making inquiry for him, he went first into Thrace, where having heard nothing of him, he put himself on the sea, to return to Great Britain, or to some other country farther of. But he was surprised by a marvelous and horrible tempest, whose blasts after a while, caused his Bark to be cast on shore in the Grene isle: where by a Cloune of the same coast, he was assured, that for certainty, the traitor Necromancien Minofol held, and had him in his prison of the Red Castle enchanted, and caused him daily to be whipped, and beaten by five or six villains, with great and big cords, all to make him miserably languish till the end of his days: and he knew moreover that he addressed a great Army by Sea, traitorously to invade the realm of Great Britain: but he failed of his enterprise. For the Prince Dorian being retired from thence, and having made certificate of all these things to the good king of Norway, and the rest of the courageous of Great Britain, they remedied the matter so well, and gave so good order to their affairs, that the said Minofol being slain by the hands of the said Prince Dorian, who in the skirmish encountered him, and thrust his Spear through his body, that his folks were forced, with great slaughter and bloodshed, shame and perpetual dishonour, to return from whence they came.  
And these things thus done, while they for the recovery of their king were busied, to furnish and set for the certain ships of war, to pass into the Green I'll: it came to pass that the young boy Gerileon, of whom none as then cook guard of, going one morning to walk in the forest, having a little bow of Brasill in his hand, wherewith he occupied himself so well, that he killed many birds as well great as small, he perceived by chance a Pheasant, which sat not far of: which, as he nocked one of his arrows to shoot at her, she flew a little forward. The boy very desirous to have her, seeing her so fair & bravely feathered above the rest, pursued her: and seeing that she sat more near him, and seemed better than afore, he set again the head of his arrow against her: the bird seeing herself manassed flew yet a little farther. The boy, in hope to have her, pursued her still from tree to tree, & were it with chase or sight, he never left her: till that being greedy of the game, the bird having brought him in fine by little and little, far into the thickest of the Forest, did vanish away, in so much he knew not where she was become, for in no place that he could cast his eye, he could not see her. Whereof he was so sorrowful and vexed, that he broke both his bow and arrows, renting and plucking in pieces the quiver, which hanged by his side, through the great ire and spite he had: as well for that, not having obtained the Phaisante, as for that he could neither find again the way, by the which he came thither, nor any other path to return out thence. And seeing this, after he had remained long pensive, sitting on the green grass, bedewed with abundance of tears, he fell on sleep, leaning his head against a tree. And so long he remained in that place, that neither the Queen, nor any of her house, knowing where he was become, for that the Sun drew all ready downwards, and that all the day, since morning he had not been seen of any body, caused quickly to mount on horseback, the courageous Knights Heroald, and Accial of Surrie, to go one way, to see if they could find him, and Dom Candior, with his son Sylban of Flanders, an other way: who having done great diligence in searching him, were forced to return, the Sun having suffered the dareke and shady brightness of the Stars, to appear in the heavenly Vault, without hearing any thing of him. Whereof it needeth not be showed, if the Queen were passioned and grieved, or no. For of all that night it was not possible, that she could give place to any one jot of rest: but weeping and lamenting bitterly, she made such pitiful complaints and lamentations, accompanied with such a number of scalding Tears, which issued abundantly out of her fair eyes, that there was no heart so heard, fell or cruel, that thereof would not have taken pity and compassion.  
In so much that for fear which I have to move you to beweene her great dolour (seeing that I strive not but to stir you to pleasure) I am content to set myself to show them here: for the severe Medea apperceiving herself abandoned of her friend jason, or Thisbe in the Bosom of her beloved Pyramus, finding him dead, did not send so many sorrowful sighs, sobs, and pitiful complaints, as that night boiled from the breast, eyes, add mouth of this virtuous Princess, for the loss of the Infant. And I boldly believe, (that although of magnanimous and haughty courage, yet had it not been for the Prince's Candior and Grandilaor, who pained themselves still about her with double diligence (as they say) to mitigate and diminish the vehemency of her anguish) with her proper hands, like Lucretia, for loss of her chastity, she had made an end both of her life, and loathsome languishing dolours. But these wise Princes did so much, that promising her to find him out the next day, they somewhat appeased these first motions of her anguish: in so much that after she was with care couched upon her bead, apparelled as she was, she fell a sleep until the next morning, that Sol was already roused and removed far from the lodging of his Leman Aurora: at which time she awaked, so weary, wasted and weakened with the force of the forepast plaints, that scarce she could lift up her heavy head from the painful Pillow. Then demanding if her son were yet found: and being answered by the Damozell Antiziliane (who kept herself continually near to her Grace, for fear of her miscariing through the multitude of these mischances) that he was not as yet returned. Ah (said she) then let me go see, if I may be more fortunate in finding of him then the rest, in hope to have him shortly in the place where my fancy foretells me he is: for in sleep it was showed me, where and how he was to be found, laid under a Tree. And taking secretly a knife, unperceived of any, she conveyed it under her Kirtle, and framed her foot steps toward the forest, to a Place the most thick▪ dark and desert thereof. And then with her two hands renting and tearing her yellow hear, and piteously complaining, she began her lamentations on this manner.  
Alas, (said she) what may this mean, that then, when I think to see the brightness of my felicity, I enter and am plounged more further in the obscure and darksome dompes of my distress and mishap: and hoping to rejoice at one happy and fortunate navigation, by the gleaming of a jot of fraudulent and deceitful light, which was to me aparaunt, I feel myself frustrated, of mine esperance, covered and ingulped in the profoundest place of joyless inundations, and raging Rivers, moved and stirred up by the horrible blasts of the most vehement winds, upon the Seas of the anguishs, sorrows, and Pits of mine importable pains. O mutable and inconstaunte Fortune, may it be, that thou shouldest vomit so vehemently on me the venom and rage of thy rigorous and naughty nature? that after having been so benign and favourable unto me, as to make me by birth the daughter of a king and mighty Monarque, and joined by the blessed band of Marriage to one most famous and unchangeable, and also to be Mother to the fairest and gentlest infant, that ever nature framed or brought forth into the world. Thou makest me to abandon the one, and deprivest me of both the other, by thy false treachery and Treason, the more to toss and torment me in the midst of these Mundane Motions, and terreine enticements, wherein thou sufferest nothing to be durable and permanent. Not not, I assure thee, that thou shalt no more abuse me by thy subtle and deceitful alterations, in this world: For I go in despite of thee, to receive in celestial things more joy and gladness, then in terreine and mundane influences, thou hast made me taste of forrowe and sadness, delivering me by this means from the Snares which thou layest from day to day, to make me languish: hoping that there I may yet somewhat rejoice in the felicity of seeing my dear Mate Floridamant, and my little infant Gerileon, who upon his Father's loss, yet gave me some allegiance. But alas, what is it that I will do, and if peradventure my dear Spouse delivered from the pernicious prisons, wherein the accursed and traitorous enchanter Mynofol hath caused him live so miserably, return: and my Son be found by some one who nourishing & guarding him more charyly than I have done, come in process of time, as possible it is that he may, what will they say if I miscarry, descanting my inconveniences? Do I doubt, but that besides that they shall be outraged in grievous dolour and distress, they will not have me in reputation of a fool, frantic and void of wit? But wretch that I am (said she next, scriching and groaning bitterly, and taking in her right hand, the Glaine which she kept covertly under her kirtle) why delay I so long from keeping of them company, slacking the advancement of my trespass, by certain frivolous fantasies, and trifling thoughts: be they in the utter profounditie of Hell, or in a Mansion more high elevate of the Elysian Fields? Seeing that if they were alive, they would not protract so much time to come see me. Wherefore that which even now I thought, not being possible to be true, receive O God pitiful & merciful, receive with hearty prayer I beseech thee, (after that I shall have pierced my breast with this Blade, dying my delicate and tender hands in mine own warm blood) my spirit into thy power.  
And as she reached her arm back, to give the deadly dint, she felt one who forced her to stay the same: and looking back she beheld a knight all armed, who taking from her cruel hands the knife, courageously embraced her between his arms, saying: O my good Lady, what is this that you will do, both to your own great damage, and my great discontentment: Ah knight (said she) of all loves, if thou be desirous, of luck and felicity, of Ladies and Damoselles afflicted, distourbe me not from mine enterprise. But for all that the Knight, holding and embracing still her neck with his tender arms, stayed not from kissing her: which caused her casting her sight on him, to know that he was her dear and loyal spouse Floridamant: whom she embraced incontinently by the middle of the body, kissing and rekissing him above an hundredth times and to be so daunted with the chance and ravished with joy, that she seemed to sound for gladsomeness. And not well knowing whether she dreamt, or whether it were true, that she held between her hands the thing, which above all other she had so long desired, & attended for, she could not bring for the one word, insomuch that the king much marveled at so strange adventure, demanding of her the cause of her dolour & distress: which she could not conceal from him, but made him partaker of all her fortune, from point to point, with the loss of her little infant, whereof he was marvelously displeased and sorry. Nevertheless, as one to whom the valiance and magnanimity of courage never failed, he framed himself to comfort her in the best fashion he could, saying: And well, my darling, seeing that it hath pleased God, to take the Infant, whom he hath lent to you, thereby (as it seemed) to reserve pour life till my return, it stands you upon, with patience to thank his highness humbly: seeing we have naught in this world, which is not all to him appertaining, and which he may not distribute at his divine pleasure and will: And also that you should think, that (thanks be to him) we have the tools and instruments, which neither are worn nor wasted, to work an other withal, when it shall please him to impart that grace upon us. At these last words the Queen was ready to laugh, and smilyngly taking him by the hand, lead him toward the Castle: which was not far distant from thence, where we will leave him for a while, to tell you what happened to the young Gerileon, whom we have left a sleep under a Tree in the forest.   

Oziris a Lady of the Fairies, who having taken the form of a Phaisante, had led astray the little Gerileon in the forest, sent two fair Nymphs Naiades to seek him, who kept their residence in a goodly Fountain, which was in the woods of Cypress, the which Nymphs brought him within a gorgeous palace where she remained, and laid him to rest upon a bed: from the which after that he was arisen, the Fairy sent him by her damozels into a gay garden, wherein was the fountain of the Naiads, who seeing him so fair, made him great entertainment, and with this pleasure and contentment, she nourished him long.  
¶ The vj. Chapter.  
WHo so shall chance to read the contents of the Chapter aforegoyng, perchance may be much amazed in that the young Gerileon remained so long a sleep within the forest, where we left him: whereof they might have just occasion, if so it had stood, that he had been there resident until the next day, when as the Queen Bellizenne would have slain herself. But the history saith, that after he had remained there the space of an hour, surpassed with a profound and forgetful sleep: there were two fair Nymphs (of those commonly called Naiades, which dwelled and had their habitations, within a fair Fountain, which was in the midst of a little wood of Cyprus, at the side of the forest, wherein none durst enter, whatsoever. For that that those which therein entered, were transformed into salvage beasts, by the enchantment of a Fairy named Oziris, who was Dame and Mistress, aswell of the wood of Cyprus, and of the Fountain, as also of the Nymphs whereof we spoke (which by her commandment came quickly, to take the little youth in place where he slept, and without awaking, brought him into the fairest Castle, that ever one could name, wherein the Fairy Ozaris had her residence: and when they had brought him on this sort, they put him in a chamber, the most fair that might be imagined, and couched him upon the fairest and costliest bed of the world (if we may say so). For the Fairy had with her own hands wrought, and framed all the furniture, and garnishementes of the same, of the most rich and fair stuff then to be found.  
And after that they had put him to rest, at his ease on this Manner, he so remained more than an hour, without awaking, but after a while when he opened his eyes, he was so trasported with admiration, and ravished with marvel: that he knew not what to think: not for that he found himself now out of the wood where he was afore a sleep, (for why he wished not to be there,) but to see such store of substance, rare riches and pleasant Pictures painted, and pight within that Chamber: which curiously too contemplate (without care either to return to the forest Chase, or home to his Mother in that thereof he had no regard) he settled himself softly to descend from of the bed, whereon he lay, and setting hand on side (as they say) began to walk along the Chamber, earnestly viewing the walls of the same, where at he was astonished to see the purtrature wherewith it was embolished & decked much magnificentlie. For the Fairy there had framed the fairest Tables and best made, that ever the excellent Painter Apelles, had portrated. And amongst the rest, the Effigy of Venus, which he had begun before his death, which never none durst presume to finish, but only our Painter which the Fairy had in her society, far surpassing him: who had so adorned it with lively curiosity of colours, that in seeing the same, one would have affirmed it alive. In contemplation of the same▪ rested the little young Gerileon so ravished with marvel, that he was in doubt whether it were painted or alive, coloured or quick, senseless or sensive: whereupon he was at last determined to ask her what she did there: and espying entering the Hall, a Damozell appareled like a Nymph, who approaching near to him, took him by the hand, and led him into a great Hall, where she gave him to eat and drink of most fine victuals, and wines pleasant and sweeter, than the very Ambrosia or Nectar itself, which which the Gods (as Poettes feign) feed themselves in heaven. Whereof he was so well apaid, and joyous, that he did naught but skipped, danced and coursed along the Hall, when as there entered a Damozell dressed in sumptuous apparel, being of surpassing beauty & grace of countenance, above the rest: whom the youth having escried, saluted with humble reverence, and hasting boldly to embrace her, said to her: Madam, will you do as I done, and take some repast here with me: I will give you such bread as I have here in my hand, better I believe then ever you tasted of. Then the Dame (which was the Fairy Oziris) taking him between her arms, kissed him most amorously, saying: wanton, and will you not remain with me still? yes forsooth Madam (said he) and whither shall I go then?  
But listen: you must give me a little horse, and a pretty spear and sword, which is good for me, and some darts, and hounds to hunt withal in the forest: Truly my Son (said the Fairy) you shall have all this and more, and then she made her Damozell to take him, who led him to walk in a fair garden: wherein being come, he began curiously to view & behold, the sundry shows of works, wherewith the plots of the same were finely interlaced, and covered with all kind of good herbs, which continually kept their natural verdure and greenness: and of fair flowers so odoriferous and sweet, that it was a singular solace to smell them, and a passing pleasure to behold them. And after that he had a long-while suruewed them, the damozels holding him by the hand, brought him to the brim of a fair Fountain, the which continually cast up water by more than twelve Conduits, which wattered all the Garden, passing so pleasantly by an infinite number of galant rivers, that with their murmuring fall, they gaué great rejoicement and recreation to the ears of the hearers. Within this same were the Nymphs Naiads, Ministers of Madam Ozyris, the fairest of whom (who was called Aegle) came and took the Infant between her arms, and kissed him more than a thousand times. The youth finding her fair in perfection, misliked naught thereof, but putting his little Youry hand within her Alabaster bosom, rekissed her still in such fort, that the others then being desirous of such wantonness, came swiftly to catch him from those sweet Arms of hers, covered with a little crespe fastened there, through which there appeared a Skin surpassing the Snow in whiteness. One of the which, bound upon his head a Nosegay of Azure colour: another a purple flower, the third gave him a gallant Shirt, composed and wrought with her proper hands, the best that could be made. To be short, I know not, neither can I well discloase to you, or here recount the half (without thereon employing too long time) all the singularities either of the Garden and Fountain, aforesaid, or of the multitude of contentmentes and pleasures, which the Nymphs took in dalliance with this little demi God: Assuring you, that if he had been somewhat more of stature, he had become an husband to some of them. For they loved him so well, that they could never content themselves without his company. And I duly deem that the Goddess Cytherea, never loved so the Son of Cynara, King of Cyprus and Myrrha, as these Navoundes cherished this little youth Gerileon, who dured a long season with solace and delights in this terrestrial Paradise, afore he had occasion of misliking or irk somnes any way. For if he were not in the Garden in the company of the Naiads, he was in the palace perusing some pleasant or profitable book of Hystorios, of the Wars of the Grecians, troyans and romans, as the Iliads of Homer, the Aeneides of Virgil, the Commentaries of Caesar; or some such like, or else he skirmished against some one: for there was the fairest place for that purpose in all the world, or else he occupied himself in the woods, somewhiles to assay himself to sit an Horse, which he guided so well as was possible, or else to pursue the pretty Birds, with a brave Silver Bow, which the Nymphs had given him, having his Quiver well garnished with Arrows, wherewith he could well behave himself, either after the Hare or Harte, wild Boar or other Beast of the pray, were he never so fierce: and quit himself so well with the help of his Hounds (all which were most expert in that exploit) that there was no Heart so swift, nor Roebueke so nimble in the course, to whom with small pursuit he gave not the overthrow.  
And there was neither Bear, nor wild wood Boar, whom (after having settled most sharp assaults with his Arrows, or Darts) he made not taken by flight, or left not stretched stark dead upon the Grasse-In so much that one day as he wént to hunt in the Forest, hallowing his hounds with his Horn of Ivory, hanging about his Neck, most finely wrought and wrapped in a Scarf, with rich Chains of Gold, there roused a fierce Lion, which at the noise of the horn issued out of a Thicket: whom he having seen, endeavoured to strike him with a mighty Dart, which he held in his hand: but the Lion (which is the most noble and gentle of all other beasts) began in sign of humility to incline his head down to the earth, & pacing softly towards him, came to kiss him, & with great favour to lick his feet, and to fawn upon him, as though he had been ever acquainted with him. The Youth without any astonishment, seeing him so meek and humble, without doing him any harm, took him by the ear, and led him toward the Castle, to the place where the Fairy was, to whom he said: Madam, see I pray you what a kind of Dog I have found in the Forest. O my Son (said the Fairy) that is neither Dog, neither Lion, whereof he hath the form: but certes it is the Squire, which (I mean) shall serve you when you shall be a knight. And how can that be (said he) seeing he hath neither feet nor hands, would you have him serve me with these gripes and perilous Paws. I will soon make him find (replied he Fairy) both feet and hands, when time shall serve to use them. Then the youth without saying to her any more, returned into the Forest, where he had left his Hounds: whom he found devouring a great Heart which they had taken, and had wellnear eaten up: but the Lion which followed him then and ever after, terrifying and making them flee from about the pray, devoured the rest in less than an hour. Such was the life which the young youth Gerileon led in his Infancy in the compagnie of the Fairy Oziris and her Nymphs Naiades, with all the honest entertainment and exercise, meet and decent to a young Infant, well borne & issued from so noble a stock as he was: whom we will let pass there in such sort certain years of his Adolescency, to recount unto you that which happened to king Floridamant his father, after that he was delivered from Prison, and by what means he escaped thence.   

By what means the King Floridamant was delivered from prison in the read Castle, for cause of whose deliverance and arrival, were appointed justing & tourneys, wherein the King himself bore away the price: whereupon the Image of the Fairy Oziris, which was before the portal of the Palace, gave him the Olive branch which she held in her hand, & than vanished away incontinently. And how the king made a sumptuous feast, during the which, the Prince Grandilaor moved many amorous matters to the Maiden Antiziliane, which things being in doing, there entered into the Hall a Page which brought a Letter to Dorian, Prince of Spain, who sttaight ways after departed the Court.  
¶ The seventh Chapter.  
YOU have heretofore heard, how the Queen Bellizenne, upon the intolerable pain she suffered, as well for the absence of the king Floridamant, as for the loss of her little Son Gerileon, was at point to kill herself, where she was disturbed and letted of her enterprise, by the arrival of king Floridamant. Who seeing her come comfortless and sad for sorrow through the Forest, held himself hid behind a bush, to mark what she would say, and to see what she pretended to perpetrate. And not to give cause of abashment to the Reader in this adventure, but to give him to understand how she should come then thither with such opportunity, seeing that (as we have afore said) he was in the prison of the traitor Minofoll, how it came to pass we will show. It is to be understanded, that the red Castle wherein he was imprisoned, was builded (as you have afore heard) by the enchantments and diabolical conjurations of the Necromantian Minofol, wholly to work this feat: the which enchantments could never take end, but by the only beath of the Enchanter himself. Whereupon the valiant Prince Dorian, son to the King of Spain, encountered the said Minofoll in a mighty Battle, which you have seen so sufficiently written in the fift Chapter, and so transperced his body with his spear, that he then and there fin shed both his life and enchantments. Whereupon the king feeling himself delivered from so miserable a Prison, after having secretly seized upon some Harness, which he found in the chamber of the Magicien, without stay, made such a spoil and staughter of those which he could encounter, that it was terrible to be told. Then taking his ways toward Great Britain, wherein he found adventure worthy recital, he had deliberated before his going to the City of London, to sojourn certain days at Mirandoll: but as he approached near thereunto, he encountered the Queen Bellizenne, in th'estate as you have afore heard: with whom after his abode there about the space of fifteen or sixteen days, not without great joy of all his Barons, Knights, and other Subjects, and chief also of the Princes Hubert of Scotland and Dorian of Spain, who were at London when he arrived, he went to the City, into the which he entered most royally and magnificently: where were in sign of joy addressed justinges & tourneys, for the love of ladies, wherein it is not to be doubted if the Scottish & Spanish Pruices gave not clear testimony to the Worthies of Great Britain, of their haughty chivalry, in that there was none whom they pitched not out of their Sadelles, to take their measure on the ground, and that was the king Ferrand of Norway, whom the valiant Prince Hubert dishorsed after the breach of vj. Spears, and at the seven. threw him to the ground: howheit, not without straining himself to forsake the Stiropes. And the young Grandilaor also after having hardly assayed to abate and beat down the Prince of Spain, was forced to kiss the ground himself, in his own proper person, to the no small grief of the Damozell Antiziliane, who was thereof no less abashed than the Queen Bellizenne was glad and joyous, when as she saw the king Floridamant. Who beholding all the knights so beaten down by two strangers, came in Habit and harness unknown, to assay them both, the one after the other, nevertheless not without great difficulty and breaking of many spears, Which knights not knowing him which had them so hardly handled, desired to come to combat at the sharp, excusing themselves by the feeble weariness of their Horses. But the king (of whose passing prows they were nothing ignorant) being discovered and known, they ceased and moderated their marvel and great Melancholy. And the justinges being thus ended, they led him to rest, and refreshed himself in his Palace. But so as he marched before all the rest, having the Princes Hubart and Dorian, the one on his right side, the other on his left, he was altogether astonished, when (entering by the great port of the Palace, he aperceived the triumphant Pillars of Marble, which during his absence had been thither sent and set by the crafty coming of the beautiful Fairy Oziris. The effigy of whom herself, was set upon the chief Pilier, which heide it (having a Chain of Gold hanging about her Neck, with a scroll thereto annexed, and a Roolette, with a Branch of Olive which she held in the one and the other of her hands, in form as you have heard afore. But there was much more occasion of astonishment, when he levelling his view on high to contemplate the clear brightness which issued out of the eyes of the said Image (which till then had rested immovable) he perceived her to incline downwardly, and to present him with the Olive Branch, which she bore in her right hand. Which branch as soon as he had received, there rose a sudden marvelous Lightning, with a terrible Thunderclap, which was dispersed and vanished all soon away, together with the Statue: whereat all the Troop wonderfully was amazed & chief the king, who as yet knew nothing of this enchantment: but inquiring more of the matter, all the process thereof was to him recoumpted by those, which were there than, where it first happened, who did not also forget to declare unto him the great fear, which they had that day. Then without further inquiry, he entered into the Halle, where they had covered the Tables for dinner: accompanied with a great multicude of his Barons, friends, & knights, of whom, each one placed himself at the table, some on high, some in the midst, & some below according to their honourable degrees. Where if they were well used & served with all forts of Meats exquisite, I leave that to those to skan which know how great Kings and liberal Princes are accustomed to feast their friends, and to give entertainment to those whom they favour and love: without omitting, to tell you how when they had dined, the pleasant Dances of all sorts, as Pavins, Galliardes, Measures, Mattachines', Moresques and other such like, with Mummeries of a marvelous strange fashion, and diverse manner, were not there wanting: and the exercise of the Cyprian Infant, was in no wise there forbidden them. For I am assured, that there was none, who) during the time, that the others danced) drawing to her whom among the Lady's hebeste affectioned, remained without kissing, and embracing her, with many an amourours toy, and delectable device: letting her (perchance) to understand, his martyrdom, (if thereof he had aforehand any hid within the marrow of his mind) thereby to receive some comfort & ease. But I believe, that the Dames and Ladies, belonging to the Queen Bellizenne, and other great Princes at that feast present, were so honest, that for motioning thereof, it was but lost time. For those that were led by the only affection, and ardent desire, which they had to enjoy the pleasure commonly (as it is called) amorous, or rather (as some would term it) a cast of close contentation, by some amity more sincere, and to an other better intention, so secret and cruel, that with all honest endeavour, they enforce not themselves possibly to staunch the ardency, and appease the fire, which their servants affirm do consume, and make them die a thousand times a day, through their blazing beauties. But there were such company within the Hall, and in each bypathe of the Palace, that I dare not assure you, whether there were any one (perchance) more pitiful than the rest, who retiring herself with her mate, behind the hangings of some tappissarie, or other secret wardrobe, to bar the sight or hearing of any person, were not even there amoved with compassion of his disease, who more filled in speech (peradventure) than his fellows, had preached to her so well, that presently she applied not a Cataplasm or plaster, necessary to his needy wound. Nevertheless. I am not ignorant, that the Prince Grandilaor was in one corner of the Hall, all alone with her, whose shining beauty by fits bad him liúe, or made him die at pleasure, that is to wit, the Damozelle Antiziliane whom he held between his arms, not daring to open and discover the entire and vehement passion, which without ceasing tormented him: whether it were because he was shame fast in showing it, or rather for that he doubted her displeasure and refusal, if thereupon he made any disgression, too tedious for her tender stomach. But in fine, the sharpness and rigour of his raging fire; burning the veil of this bashfulness, and surmountyng his shivering fear, which to him seemed a stay, or let, in giving rest and appeasement, to his dismeasured Martyrdom, he determined (chance what chance might) seeing so passing an opportunity, to try the watch, & understand if he were so well beloved of her, that he might obtain any medicinable salve to recure his malady. And beginning with a voice enterrupted, with many sobs and sorrowful sighs, half trembling for fear, like him which is put in place of judgement, to attend either his total delivery, or final end of his life and misery: said to her on this sort:  
Madam, not of power to support (without hastening of my last hence departure) the cruel Martyrdoms, and pitiful passions, which do ransack and afflict incessauntlie my poor heart, ever since first the piercing sparkles, of frying fire, which come from out of those two clear Comets, wherewith your face is furnished and adorned, making way through the windows of mine unadvised eyes, began to broil, and consume, by little & little, in such sort, that winding me to wander, from reason (which only maketh difference betwixt bruit beasts, and man) and to forget all guard and respect due to your grace: I am enforced, to make my petition to you, if presuming of your patience, and of the opportunity which presently offereth itself to let you understand that, which till now I have kept secret from you, it may therefore please you, excusing my presumption, and rashness, not to take it against heart, if I have over holdlie advanced myself to require you, that you would not with irksome or loathsome disdain, any longer deny me that, which only may restore to me again, the one half of my life: protesting that leaving here in your custody, the other moiety, you shall be reputed the most cruel, and uncourtuous Damozell that liveth in so rejecting my suit. But as he was purposed to proceed further herein, beginning to let fall Riverse of brackish Tears, from his weeping eyes: she cut of his complaint, by these words.  
Segniour Gradilaor (said she) I am astoned, and do much marvel and muse, how you have dared to think, considering the amity, and ample love, which you affirm to bear me, or at least wise (as I believe) you make apparante by your deceitful, and Crocodilishe tears, to minister to me such matter: and not to other end, as I think, than to betray and deceive me, or (after having by your glorious sweet language, bereft and rob me of that, which all the world can not once restore) to address your scoffs at my great folly, in so soon relenting to you, upon the request, which you make to me. For well I know, that you men have your affections so light, that there needeth not but one small blast of wind, or any other object (although less than that whereof you talk of) to make you change and transport them thither and hither, to serve their present turns and commodity accordingly, as you now pretend of us. Wherefore I heartily pray you, not to take it strangely, if (for the conscruation of my Honour, which I have in greater price, not only then of your passions and distresses, but also of my proper life) you be denied, and suffer the repulse of the things, whereof you demanded me. For I love better, that with mine Honour, I be deemed (as you determine) severe and ceurll, then with mine infamy (losing that which so charyly I should keep) to be had in the reputation of an disordinate Damozell, and a Maid of infamous life.  
Which reply when she had so finished, the poor patient, hearing so hard a sentence on him pronounced, stove so troubled with ire and annoy, that if the maiden had not taken him by the hand, and led him into her chamber, to repose himself, I believe he would have suddenly sounded before all the Company. But while these things were a doing, I must tell you that the king was no less idle in kissing his Queen Bellizenne: For as he danced with her, they so mutually beheld, and cast such glancing looks the one to the other, with such fine & sweet countenance, that the dimmest of sight, might well have deemed, what desire they had of that joy, which so long had been reiourned, In such fort, that the King being in the first course of the dance, more lusty, brave, & well disposed, than he had been since his deliverance, or long afore, retired secretly, without semblance of any thing, into his chamber: whither full soon after, the Queen having followed him, I leave you to ponder, if in such liberty, as they had to content the one with the others appetites, being inflamed as they were, the sweet dalliance and amorous embracementes, were in any wise spared. For why, as telleth us the History, they so forgot themselves, in their delights and plays, that they remained more than an whole hour, afore they returned too end the dance in the Hall, deeming that of the chamber, better. Which was chief cause, that shortly after the Queen felt her beallie so big, that her garments were too little for her. For she conceived a daughter, whom she awhile after, bore and brought forth, so perfect of feature, that many brave Knights were inflamed with her love, and she was named Polydame, of whom we will make more ample discourse hereafter.  
And on this wise each one for his part, applied himself to pleasure, and to content his mind the best he could: as when we see a fair and Sun shine day, to be obscured, with a sudden shadow of a dark and dusky cloud which covering the Sun, showeth such sad cheer, that we poor souls, are quite deprived of the pristinate pleasure, and comfortable clearness thereof: their joys were interrupted, by the arrival of a certain Page, attired in yellow & blue Velvet. Who entering the hall, made inquiry for the Prince Dorian of Spain: to whom, when he had a sight of him, and each one was placed, to hear what he would, he thus spoke: High Prince, the fair Lady Amarille, daughter to the king Belligent of France, hath sent me to you, for that she understood that you were in this Court, to present unto you on her behalf, commendations condign to your highness: and also this letter (said he, giving him a paper which he held in his hand) the which being read I pray you to dispatch me right soon, that I may with diligence, return according to her commandment. Then the Prince Dorian, not without change of colour and countenance, having taken and read the letter to himself, found it thus in tenor and effect.  
The Lady Amarillas letter.  
I would never have thought (Lord Dorian) that so much infidelity and discourtesy, as I know now to consist in you, had found place of residence, or dwelled in a knight so noble and valiant, as I have still reputed, and esteemed you, until this time, that seeing evidently two imperfections so great, to be possessed in you, that forgetting the fervent amity, which you to me professed, and likewise the faith which you to me promised, you have been bold so impudentely to use the same towards me, without ever giving you any occasion thereof: that I marvel that the heavens do not wax red, and ashamed at this so great lightness, and inconstauncie, which proceedeth from the imperfection of your judgement. The which feeling too suddenly and violently, a certain apprehension of love (that you have so often preached how beauty, whereof the sooner to deceive me, you said I was furnished, had so sore inflamed you, that as you made semblant, you could rest neither night nor day. But soon is the same flown away, and the tracts thereof defaced out of your memory, by the sight possible of some object, which hath been more agreeable unto you. And this length of time by you protracted and neglected (without seeing me, after your departure, when you went towards her, which is cause of your, long absence) maketh me to think and suppose, and understand that you feigning to seek out (wherewith as with a sack you would cover yourself) Floridamant king of Great Britain, are presently in his court. Whereupon I have with great diligence, and at the decease of the king my Father, addressed this messenger to bring unto you this letter; thereby to burden you with the fault, wherein not unrightly you are culpable, if incontinently you come not towards her, who resteth attendant for your arrival, that then she may hear your excuses and justifications in this case.  
Yours more than, her own, Amarille de Gaul.  
The reading of this Letter, so pinched the Prince Dorian, that he could not abide to stay the rest of the day in the court of king Floridamant, but incontinently mounting on Horseback, and taking leave of the King and Queen, who fain would, but could not stay him, he journeyed strait to Gaulewarde, to her whom he so loved: accompanied only with the Page which had brought him the Letter, and his Squire: But in this point the History speaketh not any more of him, but that in a while after, he espoused the Lady Amarille, by whom the first year of his Marriage, he had a Daughter named Angeliana, the best featured in singularity of beauty, that was of her time in the world, except fair Porphiria, Daughter to the Emper our of Constantinople: and shortly after was crowned king of Spain, by the decease of his father. Wherefore we let him rest and reign in his kingdom peaceably, and king Floridamant also, until such time as occasion shall put us in mind, to speak more of them. For that, the darling of the Fairy stayeth too long in the Castle of the wood of Cypress, which urgeth us to produce him for the into the fields.   

The Youth Gerileon, being come to the age of fifteen or sixteen years, the Fairy Ozyris gave him an Harnis, enchanted so and in such sort, that there was neither Iron nor Steel (how sharp soever) which could in any wise pierce it: also she gave him the brave Horse Lycocephal, and a good Sword, and having turned the Lion which he had taken in the Forest into his first form, she gave him also unto him for his Squire. And thus appointed, she sent him towards the Emperor of Constantinople, to receive the Order of knighthood, and of the communication she had with him before his departure.  
¶ The eight Chapter.  
NOw refteth hereafter (noble lordings, and illustrious knights which willingly take pleasure to read the worthy deeds and memorable enterprises, of those which have adorned and advanced our world) that I let you see a young Warrior, the bravest and best skilled in arms, the worthiest, puisauntest and most magnanimous of any other, whereof ever mention was made. It is also for you, other fair and gracious ladies (who are pricked with the pleasant assaults, which love accustomably assigneth to them, which humbly live languishing in the prisons of cruel desire, tormenting their hearts with a continual amorous thought) that I show you of a young Princess accomplished in all perfections of beauty, rather divine then human, the liveliest attainted, and dispiteouslye inflamed, by the ardent and burning strokes which proceeded from the person of the young Cyprian infant, above any other under the celestial vault since the creation of our first Fathers, if you will have patience to read and peruse this fine and delectable History. Wherefore ye must understand, that the gentle Youth Gerileon remained so long at Ozyris Palace in the wood of Cypress, with such pleasure and contentment as is aforesaid: that he attained the xv. year of his age. At what time he was so sage, gentle, modest and courteous, puissant and virtuous, that there was as then none in the world, that in gifts, which either Art or Nature doth by the divine providence of God, bestow upon man, could in any point match him, much less surpass him For he was so ta●, well made and proportioned in all his limbs & members, that one could scarce find any, which in largeness of body, or pregnantnes of wit, could at that time be his equal: and at that time (say I) for that, when he was come to man's age, he far surpassed & excelled the stature of other men. For which cause, the Fairy Ozyris, leeing him already so great & puissant, thought that it was not for his profit, but rather to degenerate from the Nobleness of the Place, where he took his original. Wherefore desiring naught but his profit and advancement, seeing that, if he tarried long in that state, and continued any more in that voluptuous and delicate trade of life, the prowess and valour which were in him, should be so unprofitable, that they should help no more than a Treasure, which lying hid in the entrails of the Earth, serveth not the use of any, she would not hinder the honour and fame which he afterward achieved, to abide buried in the profound darkness of a perpetual silence. Wherefore one day when he was alone in his Chamber, reading in a book, in which kind of exercise he took inestimable delight, she entered in: at whose coming the Youth which was set, arose & saiuted her with an humble reverence, and she also used towards him a reciprocal obeisance, contrary to her accustomed fashion. Then taking him by the hand, wherewith as yet he held his Hat, which she put on his head, she led him to sit in a Chair, covered with Damask, which stood near to her Bed side, whereon she leaning, used to him these or such like words.  
My son (for so she called him still) seeing you are already come to such ripeness, and increasement of age (for the which I praise the almighty God, which hath made, and doth govern all things) that as it seemeth, you shall from henceforth be sufficient forcible, & strong to toil in the field, with a crackling Corsselet upon your valiant shoulders: I am in opinion, that it should be most good and profitable for you, and no less convenient and fit, that you were made knight, by the hands of some good Prince: not to let here stippe, or rather steape the grand prowess & valiancy, that is in you, among the chambers, gardens, and woods of this Palace, rather than to remain still to take your recreations and pastimes, in a place full of delights, and mundane vanities, which are so alluring, & entice and flatter so, with the sweetness of their bitter baits, the hearts & minds of young and youthful wights, whereby they entangle & blind them in such sort, that they make them forget their duty (although both noble & gentle, they hold them so well hampered) that with great difficulty, they have no power most commonly, to dispatch them of the same. Neither yield they aught else in the end, but a perpetual dishonour, accompanied with a too late repentance, which after all this, hath to feed upon, an infinite number of anguishes & furrows. I say not these things (my darling) for any desire that I have (contrary to your stomach) to send you hence: assuring you, that I esteem myself very happy, in having ministered unto you so good entertainment: But forasmuch as I see, ye have not had yet until this present, occasion of any miscontentment. And this your absence shall be to me far more irksome, than all other dolours that may in any wise betid me: But because I foresee, by my Arts and Sciences, that it should be greater loss and damage, that the haughty and illustrious feats of arms, which you are to bring to pass by your valiancy, should remain any longer in darkness, without enjoying their future clearness, and apparent light. Furthermore if you should otherwise deal or do therein, you should degenerate greatly, from the generosity of the place whence you proceeded which by your virtue and valiancy, you aught to illustrate and adorn, yet more than ever it was. If you will believe me, and follow my counsel. I praise you in your presence, because I know your nature so good, that for any laud that I can give you, you would not (as in deed it is nothing decente) puff up your courage and stuff yourself with pride: no more than you would endure wrong, and villainy done unto you by any other, you not seeking perforce to resist it. And know that too no other intent, I have brought you up, and nourished you with so great care and diligence, as I have done, nor taken you from the hands of your friends in your Infancy, for other occasion, then to eschew the misfortunes, and miserable destinies, which before hand I have seen for you prepared: to which you could in nowise have resisted, without my succour: To the great damage, and total ruin, both of you, and also of your noble house, which thing had been lamentable. Wherefore I will and pray you, for your own profit, that to morrow Morning you depart, for to go to Constantinople, towards the good Emperor, to whom you shall make supplication, for the order of knighthood: and believe that as I am certain, he will not refuse to do your demand: afterward to make proof of this great valiancy, which is in you. Assuring you furthermore, that my succour shall shield you still, and my aid assist you ever, to eschew the mortal and perilous encumbrances, which I shall espy to be to you hurtful. When she had ended her speech in this order, the youth who attentively listened to her tale, yea, and not without great marvel of such matters: answered her thus.  
Madame, I am much aggrieved in this, that you have taken so much pains, in using so many words toward me, to do that, whereunto your bore commandment might have brought me to obey without resistance in any wise: & wherein if you had not proved me, I was purposed to pray you: considering the great honours that diverse have acquired, by haughty and illustrious feats of valiancy: whereof I read in this book, which I held in my hand at your entry: but seeing that of your good grace, it hath pleased you to open me the way, and heat the path of a voyage to me most agreeable, seeing (I say) that it pleased you, I assure myself so well of the bounty and amity, which you bear me, that you would not send me in such affairs, without Harness, Horse, Pages, and other necessaries: Which when I have, I will not fail to depart, when it shall please you to command me. And I marvel much of that which you have said, that (desirous of my welfare) ye have ravished me out of the hands of mine own friends, to make me so escape the destiny perilous (as you say) for me prepared. For which seeing that it is so, I cannot tender you thanks as you deserve, beseeching you to explain unto me those speeches, or else I shall never set my mind at quiet: Seeing that I suppose myself none other's child but yours. It is true in deed, that of any Father that I had ye never as yet told me, and I know not what a one he was.  
Soft, my friend (said the Fairy) deemed you me so doltish or undiscreet, that I would send you toward so great and noble a Lord, as the Emperor of Constantinople is, to receive the order of knighthood, without furniture both of Horse and Harness, according to your calling? I promise' you to be as well thereof provided, as any Knight in the world shall be, & better: neither shall there be any, that either in goodness of Horse or Harness shall surpass you, to the end to make you redoubted and feared above the rest, & to demonstrate the degree whence and whereof you are. Wherefore I will tell you nothing until such time that through your virtues and valiancy (whereof your deeds shall yield clear testimony) you have merited to be called and esteemed the Son of him who hath begotten you: if not, as well you think you be not my natural Son, but issued from a stock royal, whereof I pray you speak no more: for at God's appointment you shall well know it, the regard whereof in all your deeds and enterprises, I pray you to have above all things before your eyes, and the Honour of Ladies and damozels in due recommendation together, also with the loyalty and fidelity of her, which in short space shall ravish you, of the best thing you have in you. The youth without any reply made to her, either further of his Race, or any other matter although very curious, noted and well marked, all that which the Fairy had said to him: chief her last words, purposing with himself, that none should ravish him of aught that he had: but he was more out of his account than he thought. And having been silent a certain space, he said to her: Madam, than I pray you, show me if it so please you, what furniture you will bestow on me, to the end that to morrow Morning, I may find it all ready, when it behoveth me to depart, and also what Squire you will that I have. Then the Fairy took the Lion, which the youth had found in the forest, which as then lay stepyng under the Table like a Dog, and reciting certain words of Enchauntement, and anointing him with a kind of liquor which she had, she caused him to receive the form of a youthful man of twenty years of age, or there about. And you must understand, that this was Geliaste the joylie, Squire to the Queen Bellizenne, who in searching the youth Gerileon at first, when he lost himself in the Wood of Cypress was by the Fairy, changed from his first form, into the likeness of an hideous Lion, and had without waxing old, in any wise, remained so till that time: following usually the youth into every place like as the Dogs also, to the chase: Wherein he killed multitudes of wild beasts. He also had the same apparel which the other had, when he was first Metamorphosed, or rather (if it be not lawful to impair the Greek language) to say better, when as he changed his first shape. At this thing both the Youth, and also the poor Squire much marveled. For the Squire remembered of nothing paste, no more then as if he had been but even then borne: notwithstanding that he was the same, and had like Sense as he had before.  
But the Fairy addressing her speech to the Youth, said to him: My friend, see here is now the Squire which I meant to give to you for servant, when you brought him to me at the first: & you Geliaste (said she to the Squire) see here your Lord and Master, whom I will that you serve, and accompany in all that, wherein he shall have need, and through all places where he shall pass. Now (moreover she said) you want nothing more but Horse & Harness. And taking him by the hand, she led him over the steps, which stood against a base Court, wherein when they were come down, the Youth saw the most gallant, brave, great, and best made Horse that ever man saw, since the death of Bucephall king Alexander's Horse the Great: of whose kind and breed the Fairy had so wrought, that she had recovered this of a stranger Thessalion called Philonicus: who of two fair Horses which he had, sold the one to king Alexander for thirteen Talentes, that is Bucephall, and this whereof we speak, to the Fairy Oziris for eighteen, which was called Lycocephall, for that that he had on his forehedde, the form of a Wolves head, & was far fairer & greater than the other. For the Fairy had always after her buying of him, kept and guarded him well in her Fairy: so that he was in no point, either waxed older, or impaired. And this was done, purposely for to make a present thereof unto Gerileon, as well to him appartained. Who seeing him so fair, was thereof joyous, and fain he would that it had as then been day, that he might have departed, and to have mounted on his back. For he took him by the bridle, out of the hands of the Nymph Aegle: which having not long before, brought him out of the Fairy, by the commandment of Oziris her Mistress, held him as yet: so he mounting lightly upon him, without aid of Stirrup (although he were big and mighty, more than any other as then to be found) caused him four or five times to fetch the career nimbly, and to gambolde lustily, from the one side of the Court to the other, and made him to gallop so impeteouslie, that besides that, he went more swifter than any Swallow, he made the earth tremble under his feet, in such sort, as never was afore so seen: wherein the Youth took such great pleasure, to make him turn, and pass to the one side, and to the other, without any spurs at all, that if the Fairy had not said, that she would go show him the Harness, which she would give him, I think that he would not have alighted in one whole hour. But after she had told him thereof, the great gladness that he had to see it, made him descend quickly, and to follow her into her Cabinette. From whence she brought store of harness, the most sumptuous, industriously engraven, and most richly gilded, that was possible to see: without any other painting in the shield, than a great Cross of gold, which stretched from the one side to the other, in a field of Azure, which was Enchanted in such sort, that no Iron nor Steel (how hard so ever) could in any wise harm it: but rather contrarily, the harder & violenter that the stroke which fell upon it was, the more it hurt him which gave it, then him which received it. For in steed of entering or piercing into it, the Sword, Spear, Club, or other such warlike instrument, rebounded so high into the air, that often times it fell out of his hands, which was the owner thereof, and used it. This Harness become and fitted him so well, as though it had been of purpose appointed and made for him. And after this, she fetched out of her Cabinette, a Sword large, fair, and of marvelous good edge: the scabbard whereof, was of the skin of a great Serpent, which was slain by Hercules, at what time he was very young: The which was so finely trimmed, that although it was not garnished with diverse Diamonds, and other precious stones: yet being set against the Sun, it would have rendered a far finer light, than gold itself. It is most true, that the Sword was not altogether fit to the Scabarde: for the puissant Nabot kept as then, that, which was made for it, which was the best that was in the world. For there was no Harness, of what goodness so ever (not although hardened by enchantment) that could resist it, without being cut, and mangled in pieces. And it was called Duransarde, which the said Nabot had conquered, and gotten from the terrible and hideous Giaunte Scarafarab, who was of the lineage of Encellade, one of them which in times passed, would have conquered Heaven: and were with Lightning destroyed by jupiter (as it is said in the first Chapter of the third part of Chronicles of Brandismell, compiled by Galarx) whereof the Fairy Oziris was greatly grieved. For never could she possibly recover it, although she had already gotten the scabbard, wherein she gave this, that I now speak of (which was matchable in highness, and almost in making and goodness to Duransarde) to the Youth of the Fairy (for so must we hence forth the name him). Which caused her greatly to doubt, least any evil should chance him there, because it cut what soever it came near, yea, Enchanted Armour also (as I have a-afore said) and which was worse, it was in the custody of one, which could better use it, than any knight, as then in world. She had also great fear, least any sinister accidents should happen unto him, by the means of any Iron Lance Enchanted: against which, his Armour, and others what soever, had no power to resist: which was in possession of an other most brave, and valiant knight, Son to king Belligent of France, called Diodamas, which was given to his said father the king of France by the noble king Brandismell, to whom the Fairy Oziris had made present thereof, at what time hefought with the mighty giant Percival. Whereupon she advertised the Youth, that he should endeavour to get both the Sword and Lance, as soon as he should be made knight. Who after that he had thanked the Fairy, for all this fair & rich furniture, which he gave in custody to his Squire, he retired strait ways thence, by reason that the darksome night, began as then to chase the bright some Day, from out of the Celestial Manor, to the end to take his rest, that he might the sooner be stirring in the next Morning.   

The youth of the Fairy, departed with his fair and gracious Fairy Oziris, to go to ward the Emperor of Constantinople, who gave him the order of Knighthood: and the Lady Porpheria got him with his Sword: which done, he would have departed, to have sought strange adventures in Great Britain, but the Emperor availed so with his words that he stayed him, and made him to promise' to tarry fifteen days in his service, whereby that chanced to him, which you shall hereafter hear.  
¶ The ix. Chapter.  
TRUE it is (Noble Lords and Ladies) that whatsoever great heaviness and desire of fleepe he have, which feeleth in his head the Hammer of some great Affairs of his own: So is it, that the rest and tranquillity of Senses are bereft him (yea although his bed be never so good) by the pleasant detention of the same. For the Youth of the Fairies, (having withdrawn himself into the Chambers, after his Harness which Ozyris had given him) was brought in thither, he laid him full soon in his bed: where he began to sleep well for a while, thinking to rife before day the next morning, according to his earnest desire. But scarce had he remained the space of one hour, in the forgetfulness of this sleep, but that he awaked: and supposing that it had been now broad day, be cause of the great glimmering of the Moon, which entered into his Chamber by the windows of the same (which he had of purpose left open) he hastily called his Squire, which was laid in another Chamber next to his, to look if Mourning as yet in any wise appeared: and caused him to clothe himself to watch (and so to advertise him, when the day began to draw near: expressly enjoining him not to fail to advertife him thereof incontinently, and hereupon sent him into the stable to dress and make ready his Horse, against his speedy departure: all which, he did willingly. But whilst he was about the same, the Youth not able to sleep, did naught but ponder and premeditate with himself, how and in what order he should demand his knighth ode of the Emperor of Constantinople, and what condign thanks he should yield him, after the receipt of the same. But assoon as he had builded any fair. Bulwark how to achieve the same, it was strait ways stricken out of his mind, by the invention of some other to him seeming better. And in this cogitation abode he so long, that Geliaste was returned from the stable: whom a new he caused to set open the Windows, to behold if the glimmering light of Cynthia would as yet departed and give place, in the Celestial vault of the Mourning sky, Messenger of her Brother Phoebus. But he answered him, Noah, (because of the great desire that he had to sleep) although Aurora began as then to wax read: which brought to pass that the Youth, and likewise his poor Squire fell both a sleep, till such time that the Sun, was well elevate from the Indian Regions, and began to cast his Rays upon their faces. Whereof Geliaste which in his clothes was couched upon a little field bed in his masters Chamber, being first awaked, run half a sleep as he was, to awake the Youth: who much blamed him, that he had not done it afore than: but he swore to him by his honesty, that he had called him two hours since: but because of his sound sleep, he had suffered him to rest still: and better to confirm his saying, he said that he had well broken his fast, and drunken a good Cup of white Wine which was given him. Wherefore the Youth blaming his to much sluggishness, converted & turned the anger on himself. And taking in great haste his apparel, by the help of his Squire, was quickly clothed and also harnessed. Than descending down into the Halle, found his breakfast all ready, where he had scarce either eaten or drunk, but he mounted upon his brave Horse Lycocephal, and his Squire upon an other: & after leave & congee taken of the Noble Fairy Ozyris, & of the fair Naiads, who at his departure wept and mourned bitterly, he departed and went strait towards the port, where he found a Bark full fraughted & appointed ready to pass, wherein when he was embarked, the Pilot launched forth and hoiste up sails, the wind being to them favourable. And so they passed still on, one whole month, without any danger of shipwreck, or any other tempest. Atende whereof they took Land, in a Haven before the City of Constantinople, late in an evening. And then when the Morning was come, the Youth of the Fairies being landed with his Squire Geliaste, mounted on Horseback all armed except his Head and Arms, which were adorned with very fair and rich Garments, went on straight toward the Palace of the Emperor, which as then was at Divine service: and therefore he remained on horse back still in the Court, attending to see his coming from out of the Chapel, not without giving great occasion of astonishment, to many Knights and Gentlemen there walking, who took great pleasure to behold the singular grace and incomparable beauty of the Youth: and by his only look and pleasant gravity, they judged that he was descended of some noble house, and full of manly courage (as in verity there was nothing otherwise to their wening, nor contrary to their esperance) And whiles they were thus busy, to behold him as it were with admiration, he gave two or three pricks with his Spurs, to the good Horse Lycocephal: who thereat vaulting into the Air with a marueisous might and nimbleness, soon sent back the beholders from his Master: who were now more astonied at the goodness of the Horse, and at the grace of the Knight, which had pricked him. And during the while that he thus dallied with his Horse, the Lady Porphiria, daughter to the Emperor, the goodliest and fairest Gentlewoman, which ever was in the world, was as then in one of the Galleries of the Palace, over against her Chamber: taking singular great pleasure in contemplating of the Youth of the Fairies. Of pleasure soothly (say I) for she not able to satisfy herself with the sight of his singular beauty and grace, was so ententive to behold the points and pricks which afterward pierced her as you shall understand, that she leaning and resting on her two arms in the gallery, was so ravished with marvel and astonishment, that one would have judged some sound sleep, had sealed her settled eyes: when as out of her Chamber there issued out a most fair and young Damozell called Harderina, which was daughter to the king of Hungary, and Cousin to the Lady: who with beauty and bravitie of Graces, was as well endued, as any other there to be found in all Greece: only excepting the Lady Porpheria, who in all points glittered more perfect, not only before her, but also before all other which were under the cope of heaven. For I believe that nature had expressed in her, all the precious treasures of perfect beauty, the most rare and singular, that she had in store from the beginning of the world, so prodigally and with such cunning, that since the memory of man, under heaven was never seen such a piece of work: were it that any other Ladies or damozels (though full famous in Feature) chanced to approach near unto her, one would have deemed that Nature had despoiled them of their dew and requisite beauty, for to bestow it wholly on her: and that they seemed foul to show her more singular fair and perfect. And here it forceth not to make comparisons with that beauty so famous, which caused the utter ruin and overthrow of proud I●ion, with the destruction of the Trojan king, his children and subjects, and much less, that, of the pompous proud Roman, whom the Senate caused to be canonised: to cover her impudicitie. Yea we may imagine, that if the goddess whom the Poetes feign to be mother to him which causeth us love, had been set by her, her beauty had had more light, than Diana hath of clearness, being adioygnaunte to her brother Phoebus. But what is it for me to amaze myself here in describing of beauty, because of her inestimable perfection: considering that the most skilful in eloquence, and those which have the faculty to discover with greater Emphasis (if so I may say) and abundance of flowing Phrases, should be well wearied in unwinding this as it is worthy, therefore now let us reclaim our digressions. The maiden Haderina seeing her fair cousin Porphyria so profoundly pensive, requested of her what she so busily beheld, who as it were newly awaked out of a dead sleep, said thus to her: I pray you dear Consine mark well this Youth which is below, if he be not singularly proportioned and of a passing grace: and also skilful, in so gallantly guiding his courageous Horse: verily Cousin, (answered the Maiden) you say well, know you not whence he is, or what he would? I promise' you said the Lady, I never saw nor heard of him till now.  
These and such other small communications had the two Maidens together, so long till at the last the Emperor arrived: who coming from out of his Chapel, entered the great Halle of his Palace, having in his Train many brave Knights and Gentlemenen, following him. Which things the gentle Youth of the Fairy beholding, descending incontinent from his Horse, which he delivered to keep to his Squire, entered incontinently after the rest, and apperceiving the Emperor placed in his Imperial Siege, to deliberate upon certain matters, he kneeling humbly before him, spoke on this manner.  
Most puisaunte and most virtuous Emperor, I deem undoubtedly that you and semblably all this noble Assistance, do greatly marvel, in that I have so temerariously, and unrenerentely dared to present myself poor soul, before the highness of your Imperial Majesty: doubting least this my audacity and rashness, which I have used herein, will turn toward me, your displeasure, and be odious to all the rest, if I had not such confidence, in the consideration, bounty, wisdom, clemency, lenity, and other virtues, wherewith (as a rich and pompous jewel is illustrified and polished with Pearls and precious Stones) so are you fraught and adorned: that not only you will willingly pardon mine indiscretion, but also I trust in your great bountifulness and courtesy, that you will in no wise denic me of that which I am purposed to request of you that is to wit, that I may receive the order of knighthood by your hands, & for that, I have heard you above all others far extolled) I have been desirous thereof ever from my Cradle. The Emperor who whilst he thus spoke, had his eyes & ears bend to regard & hear such witty words & so good a grace: taking him by the Arms, caused him to stand up before him, afore he had fully ended his speech: knowing even by his pleasant gravity, that he could not choose but be come of a good house & Princely race, & gave unto him this gracious answer. Fair sir & friend of mine, although it were not true that your youth could not excuse you, if (as contrary it is) you had used any rashness or temerity in making to me the request which late you did: yet nevertheless the great beauty, and singular countenance which I note in you, and likewise the honest manners and behaviour which you have observed in this point, would constrain me, not only to condescend (which I offer you as now) to have that which you demanded, but also, if there had appeared avie indiscretion in you, they would have incited me, to remit and pardon it totally. Assuring myself (although as yet you seem too tender of age, to be called to such vocation) that if the bounty of your heart be correspondent to the beauty and appéeraunce of valour which I deem and conjecture to be in you, you are sufficient and capable to discharge such a charge as well as any other that now liveth whatsoever: and for that cause there resteth no more as now, but that you go to prepare yourself, as the custom is, for to receive the order of knighthood, when as you shall please and be thereunto ready. Then the Youth, thanking him humbly as well he could: retired secretly thence, to go make his prayers in the Chapel of the Palace as the custom was, where he till it was the next day morning, at what time he came to present himself to the Emperor, who dubbing him with the Neck stroke put on his right Spur, and the Lady Porphyria who had seen him come, descending down, gird his Sword about him, by the commandment of her father. Which to do, she was well pleased: and the Youth who (whiles she did her devoir in this behalf, much marveling at her miraculous beauty) was not ill contented that the chiefest, fairest & beautifullest Princess under Heaven, did unto him so great a service. This done: the Emperor, who the more he beheld him and saw him so garnished in all points, the more he was willing to wit, who he was, he required and asked of him his birth, and the estate of his race and progeny. To which the youth made a most civil answer, that he was of the Realm of great Britain, but of none of his Parents, had he any knowledge: and that for this cause it might please him to excuse him, if he were constrained herein to keep silence: true it is (said he) that I know well, neither will I conceal it from you (most noble Lord) that I was nourished by a Fairy, who sent me towards you so furnished as ye see, & she is called Ozyris. The Emperor who aforetime had heard talk of the Fairy, deemed & doubted that she had kept him for some occasion (as most certain it was) being proceeded from the progeny of the noble kings of Great Britain, as she had aforetime done by the virtuous king Moridant, father to Brandismel, which was the first extoller of that magnificent Realm, and much marveled thereat. Nevertheless without more talk with him, he commanded some of the assistants, that they should conduct him into the Empresses Chamber, to pass forth the time with her damozels, and to discourse with them of many an honest & amorous devise, as well (it seemed) he could. But the Youth willing to excuse himself herein, prayed him humbly that it would please him to give him leave to return into Great Britain, there to seek adventures: so to assay if the order of knighthood, which he had obtained, were well or evil employed upon him. And also that he had great desire to Just and Combat with king Floridamant, which as then was had in prize for the best and valiantest knight in the world. The Emperor not well pleased in that he would so soon depart from his Court, said to him. Why (fair sir) will you so soon abandon us and our Court, not in any wise feasted or cheered there as yet, according to your calling? I promise' you, that if you will remain with us but the space of fifteen days, that besides the good and honest entertainment which I hope thereby to bestow on you. you shall here also find knights both brave and strong to make proof of your valour and prowess, seeing your ardent desire is so to do. For I must one of these days make a most sumptuous Feast, during the which, neither justis nor tourneys shallbe lacking: wherein you may experiment your valiance in this behalf: thereby to prepare yourself the better against the worthy knights of great Britain, which are the flowers of chivalry in the world, and chief as you say against king Floridamant, who hath not his match under heaven. And I suppose that otherwise it would sooner turn to your dishonour then advancement, and that it should rather be imputed to your rashness then courage. The Youth hearing the Emperor speak with so great modesty and chariness, conceived a certain singular love of his prudency, and such a one as forced him with a reverent fear not to offend his hests, neither to do any thing disagreeable unto his mind: & knew that he had erred in willing to depart, having received far above his deserts, so much honour of so great a lord as he was, without doing him any deed of duty of service. Wherefore to cover his fault, he said unto him. seeing it pleaseth your Majesty to do me so much honour, as to retain me in your court, it shallbe then my duty to go about to do you the best service I can: Assuring you that no worldly felicity, could happen as now more greater, nor more agreeable to my mind, then to have the mean hereby to satisfy your hests and desires. And over that, I shall think myself most happy, it I may gratify your contentment, in doing you aught which male be to you pleasant and agreeable: that I may rid myself out the bands of foul Ingratitude: wherein I were fast linked, if I did not put in practice to achieve your commaundementees, and accomplish your desires: Seeing you have already so bound and made me yours, that it is passed my power, ever to show you so much service, but that still I shall be far in your debt and danger. Wherefore I am not of power (since so it pleaseth you) to pass the limits of your william. The Emperor well content and satisfied, with the gracious answer of the Youth of the Fairies, commanded again a Damozell, which was there present, that she should conduct him to see the empress Chamber: Whereto she promptly obeyed. And taking him by the hand, she led him near where she was, accompanied with so many fair Ladies and damozels, that at his entrance within the Chamber, he seemed to see so many Angels in Paradise, as there were Ladies waiting about the Empress: who talking with certain Princes there with her, she made them stand somewhat a side, the better to see the Youth of the Fairies: who entering into the Chamber, saluted her humbly: to whom when she had used like courtesy, seeing him so fair and courteous, she could not stick (being much astonished to see a young man so comely) to say to them which were about her: I believe that if this Youth have the bounty and prowess of the mind, equal and matchable to the making, and proportion of his body, he will be the best and worthiest knight under the Skies. And whiles she said these words, the Youth being approached more near, she began to ask him of his birth, and why he was come into a country so far, to receive the Order of knighthood, seeing there was in Great Britain, King Floridamant, who was reputed the most royal King, and valiant Knight of the whole Earth, and such other odd talk: whereto he answered so aptly that she remained well satisfied. But after that she had ended her speech, her damozels, which still attended when she would leave him, for them, began here and there to enforce themselves, to please him the best they could, both in words and other things: to each of whom he answered well and honestly, according to their demand: assuring you that none gave him a quip in any cause, but that he requited her again quickly, with the like coin. But he which well knew how to shift between two walls, was scarce contented to be conversant with them, for that there he could not see one spark of the beauty of her, which girded his Sword about him, wherewith he was somewhat attached: for that, she which had cast her eyes on him so attentively, began already to have her senses troubled, through the love of him: whereupon she was retired secretly into her chamber much pensive: at whose issuing forth, that chanced unto him, which you shall hear.   

The Lady Porphyria being come out of her Closet, to enter into her mother the empress Chamber, seeing the Youth so fair and comely, was so attainted with his Love, that she fell in a sound before the Empress her mother, and the rest of her company: who thereat, being much astonished and abashed, conveyed her as well as they could, into her Chamber again: where she having recovered her late lost senses, the Princess Harderine her cousin, which would have known the cause of her disease, went also out of the chamber, for that the Lady made denial to tell it unto her, & listening at the door, heard her complain of the of the Youth of the Fairy. Wherefore going into the Hall, and finding the Damozell Marcelle, she recounted to her the Ladies words, who going thither to visit her, had with her such communication as I will recoumpte unto you.  
¶ The. x. Chapter.  
Fatal destiny, daughter to God almighty, having once by the commandment of her Father, purchased some misfortune, to any mortal wight: what prudence, policy or humane devise so ever a man applieth, to evite and shun this eternal decree of things, yet is it so still, that she rageth, and hath sway over all our dooges. I say this, for that, what means soever the Lady Porphyry could invent, to eschew and flee the love of the Youth of the Fairy, which as now began to weaken the strongest, yea the soundest of her inner parts: yet notwithstanding was it unpassible (Destiny so apointyng) to exempt herself, from any part of those amorous cogitations, which through their violence, took still increase within her clogged heart, with this want of senses, which you shall hear. Wherein it is to be noted that whiles the wise & gentle Youth of the Fairies, conversant amongst the damozels of the Empress, did hold them in, with many a merry jest, and honest devise, though therein he took no great pleasure, because he saw not her, whose Idea of perfection he had somewhat imprinted in his heart, to wit, the fair Lady Porphyry, who as then was of the age of fowertene or fifteen years (an age without doubt, capable enough of the contagious scorchinges of cruel Love) behold where she came half sad and sorrowful into the Halle, of purpose to see him. Nevertheless, feigning that she came not for other occasion then to solace, and sport herself accordingly, as sometimes she had accustomed with the Maids of the Empress her Mother. Amongst whom, in evil time apperceiving the fostered son of the noble Fairy Oziris, and having espied her coming, did his endeavour to salute her, and she reciprocally also rendered the like: seeing him (I say,) so fair and beautiful, that it was unpossible to say aught more, she was so ententive to entertain him in salutations, with semblance of liking, as no less he did to her, that the sweet denime of Love, which on this wise is supped, began to inebriate the hearts of the one and of the other: so much that the Vermilion read, which retired from the middle of their visages, gave conjecture to some of the damozels (who were more skilled and conversant in the case than others) of that, which was happened. For there wanted not much but that the Youth (transported with a beauty unmatchable, and never having felt such impressions of love in his fantasy afore) had almost fallen down in a slumber: but taking heart to him, he dissembled his dolour the best he could. But the lady, were it that she was charged with more matter of this Marrow than he, or that she was less courageous and able, to bear out these brunts, bestowed by the little God, on them, whom he inwrappeth in his nets, was through fancy forced to fall in a sound suddenly in the place where she stood. Whereof we need not doubt if the Empress & her Damosels, who saw her fall, were afraid, and marveled: for they thinking that she was dead, with an infinite number of cries, and lamentations most pitiful, ran speedily on this side and on that, to lift and raise her up, still trembling & astonished for fear, which they had, least she were dead. But after they had felt her poulces, finding her yet a live, they appeised and moderated the vehemency of their dolours, to recomfort the Empress: who having her heart cloyed with distress, could not speak a word: saying one to an other, that some default of heart had surprised her: or else that not having eaten any meat that Morning, her senses and stomach failed her: some other said that possibly it was her gown being to strait for her. And thus these women Philosophating upon her sudden sounynges, they took and carried her charelie into her chamber: where being laid upon her bed, they cast certain drops of cold water in her visage, and then she began to revert, and come again to herself: and opening her eyes, she was altogether amazed to see so many people busied about her, and chiefly to hear her cousin Harderine (weeping so bitterly, that kissing her she watered her cheeks with tears) to call her with a loud voice. Wherefore with a feeble and low voice, the Lady bad her, that she should shut all the windows of the chamber, and then 'cause all the rest of the damozels to departed, because she had great desire to sleep. Then the lady Harderine asked her saying: Will you not that I tarry here with you (Madam) that if in case any necessity perturb you, I may prevent it to my power? That is as it shall please you, cousin, said she: and incontinently all the damozels went out, and made report to the Empress, how her daughter was somewhat better amended then afore, and that this souning proceeded not of any other cause, then of the quaisinesse of her stomach, which had surprised her, in that she had not rested the Night before, because of the Alarms which the Giaunte Ferclaste, and his two brethren, made nightly to the City, wherewith the Empress was somewhat satisfied, and ceased her tears.  
The Lady Harderine, who remaining solely in the Lady Porphyria her Chamber, willing to know the cause of her dolour, began to fetch her in with these words: I am greatly astonished and abashed (Madam) whence or how you should have this great default of heart, that so sudden lie you should fall down sounding before the Empress: do you feel yourself evil? Is there any interior malady, or secret sorrow within your corpse, which through his violence, hath caused this avoidance of senses? I pray you not to conceal it, but rather to communicate it freely to me, so that it may be amended. For if you secretly shroud and shadow it, I assure you, yourself shall be the speedy procurer, and seker of your own decay, which if it should once chance, I should not long after live. Wherefore I pray you once again my sweet Mistress (said she in kissing her) vouchsafe to make me know your malady. Ah cousin (said she to her) think you me so sottish, undiscrete, and such an enemy to myself, that if I felt any evil to annoy me, whereto the Physicians might apply the order of amendment, that I would conceal it from you, having heretofore manifested to you, all the motions of my mind, and secret thoughts that I ever suffered? The Lady Harderine hearing her so speak, had at the first great fear, lest she had felt some corporal malady within herself, dangerous and incurable: but having pondered somewhat apart upon her speeches, she doubted suddenly that perchance she was pricked with the perilous dart of Love, which only is uncurable, either with Herbs or Siropes: Wherefore to lighten her doubt, she thought good to try the watch further, saying on this sort:  
And how then Madam doth the cause of your dolour, and souning proceed from any malady, which the Physicians by no means can cure? I can not rightly deem, what disease paineth you, seeing there is no sickness so sore, that Sir Sagibell your father the emperors Physician, who is the most skilful and tried man in his Art, can not by his medicines give some recure and help unto. Cousin (replied the fair Lady) you know well, that I never concealed from you any of my secrets, though very private, were they never of so great importance, And therefore I will not now hide from you my languor, seeing you are so desirous to know it: and that which I answer, proceedeth not from aught else, but of the great desire I have to sleep. Wherefore since ye know it presently, I pray you no more to disquiet me, but do so much as departed the chamber, that then I may sleep the more at my ease: And an hour hence you may return to awake me, at what time you shall perceive my malady much amended. I see well, said Harderine (doubting more now then asore, of an eel under the stone) that the case standeth not so, that you may hide it well enough. For the Fire was never yet in a place so secret, neither hid in a den so deep, but that some smoke thereof appeared and was seen: at which words she went for the of the chamber, shutting the door after her, and feigning to go along the Gallery, correspondente to the issue of the same, she went not far, but returned softly again, to hearken at the door, if in any point she could hear the distressed Lady complain: who as soon as she saw her departed, had begun her plot to this purpose, drawing most sorrowful sighs, from the bottom of her heart. Woe is me, what passion of mind might this be that I feel? O miserable and desolate that I am, what strange dolour, what unknown alteration dde I feel, to martyr and crucify my heart, with such outrage, that I attend naught else but the arrival of that cruel and inhuman death, to end my doleful days and to deliver me from the passions, and anguishs wherewith like frying fire, I now still feel my bowels to burn? Behold O thou Serpentine Youth, replete with poison: how luckless and unfortunate for me the day was, wherein thou didst here arrive, and come in presence: for since first I saw thee, I know not how nor whither mine affection is transported. I know not where my tender heart is become, I know not what rage, & what fury hath surprised and held my sencés & raison so captivated, that I cannot (alas) I cannot see nor know, how nor by what means I may deliver myself from this mischance and misery, without great loss and blemish of mine honour. Ah cruelest felonious & pitiless: Is it possible that (as well it appeareth) thou art come to this Coast for no other occasion, then to 'cause me to pine in this dolour & distress, by thy beauty and behaviour, which I well believe thou haste bought or borrowed by Charms and enchantments of some skilful Fairy (yea rather Sorceress) which hath sent thee expressly hither, so to captivate and deprive me of my pristinate and ancient liberties▪ But alas sot & senseless fool that I am: sufficeth it not me enough to be vexed & tormented, but that thereupon I must also curse him, who never in his life either wrought or thought my displeasure? and who (perchance) if I required him thereto would not seem to deny me his service. For if he knew that for his love I languished as I do, I am ascertained by the affability, bounty & courtesy, wherewith (as I surely conjecture) he is complete and furnished, that he would be much vexed and aggrieved at mine infortunate encumbrance: not having as I suppose, given any attempt either in thought, word or deed, to procure or work never so little woe or displeasure, whereof I may justly accuse, him. I can not therefore imagine from whence it is, that this trance now troubling my Soul, proceedeth, if it be not from the fountain of fretting love. The which being natural, as often I have heard say, & now in some part have proved, it is great injury, that I should blame him so: yea rather I aught to reprehend mine own nature, or the cruel destiny, guider of my years, which (yea and possibly for my prefermente) hath ordained that he shall one day be the Lord and true Master of my heart and body likewise. For the which cause I will enforce myself yet still, cloaking the colour of mine ill chance the best that I can, to bring him, if he yet be not so much to obey me as I am at his commandment: in that he can not choose, but that I may love him, having his perfections imprinted in me with so sure a Seal, that the process of time is in no wise able to deface it: Seeing that the love which I intend to use, is a thing holy and constituted of God on high. And thereon let come what will: let the Emperor my Father fret and fume hereat at his pleasure: let all things herein turn upsidedoune, if it may chance that in any wise I may understand, that he is atteinted and caught with the same sickness that I am. But seeing that I myself can not bring this to pass, and because also that my Malady which proceedeth from love, hath this particularity in itself, that it may receive no redress, if it be concealed and kept secret, I am in mind to discover and make it known to my Cousin Harderine, and to the Lady Marcelia, who not bewraiing me, shall geue me counsel in this mine hard affair. When she had ended her speech to this purpose, the Maiden Harderine which was at the scout watch, hearing this resolution, went away thence, making the smallest noise she could, & so passed through the Gallery into the Empresses chamber, where having found the lady Marcelia (who was a woman right wise and honest, widow to the late Duke of Chalcyde: to whom, because of her modesty and demeanour, was given the custody of the young lady Porpharia, she recompted to her all the complaints, which of her Cousin she had lately heard. Whereat she not greatly marveled: as one which doubted, by the countenances & behavors of lovers, in doing the duty of courtesy, of that which was veritable & true in deed. Wherefore▪ she and Harderine hand in hand went into the young lady's chamber, whom they found sadly walking up & down: who discriing them, died her face with a more joyful hew and show, than her heart had of contentment: and adressyng her speech to Harderine she said: My sweet cousin is it not true, that when I told you I had slept, I should be better? Aha, said the other, which knew the greatest secrets of her heart, you have not as yet the mean to be so whole, as to us ye make semblance: for the disease, whereof I heard you not long since complain, receiveth not so soon recure, without apliing of an other remedy, than you have yet had. What Cousin, (said the young Lady) of what Malady have you heard me make my moan, whereof I am not yet rid and delivered of? Of the fever which proceedeth of the heat of Cupid's burning infections, said she. Porphirie, seeing that her Pot was discovered, and her Secrets known, caused them both to sit by her and said. Although it should be so that you had in no wise known my misfortune: yet in no wise could it so continued, that you being the persons only in whom I have confidence, more than in any others whatsoever, I would have hidden from you any of my sinister fortunes, and distresses: knowing you ever to have continued loyal & faithful towards me: and so that I have no cause to complain myself, sith I have never concealed and covered from your so laudable taciturnity, all that (although of great importance) which I have still made you partakers of: which maketh me hope, that not to purchase my annoyance or displeasure, but rather to secure me in this my so urgent affair, you would not begin at this time, considering the consequence of the deed, from whence the question cometh: and what danger I have used at the first, to discover it unto you. I pray you (dear Cousin) be not thereat displeased. For though I was loathe to make you privy of it, yet it is not good so to do things rashly, without premeditating what issue it may have and consulting thereof, which was the chief cause, that assured of your loyalty, which never yet failed me, I was of purpose to impart my secrets to you both. I know it well (said Harderine) for if I had not heard your resolution, which did manifest unto us the cause of your Malady (whereof we need not now to trouble you with talk, seeing we are sufficiently informed of the matter itself) I would have had regard not to have so manifested it to Mistress Marcelia, and to bring her hither, for fear of doing a thing displeasant unto you. But intending that, whereof you were tailkng, and the confidence which you have in her, being to me not unknown, I pray you take no displeasure, if I be enboldened rashly to bring her in presence: For I well know that herein she can give you better counsel than I, as one that is more trained and experimented, not only in matters of love, but also in many other things. Then the lady Marcelia cutting of her words, began to speak on this wise. Madame Harderine, seeing here riseth no question, neither is it needful to spend the time in praising the one the other: touching that that you say, how I am more sage than you, therein I report me to the sayings of those which know us both, who well enough know the contrary: nevertheless taking these your praises in good part, for that he or she which receiveth not a praise or laud upon any occasion bestowed upon them, seemeth to make himself culpable of outrage and dishonour, which any object may offer unto him. But let us change our style: & as for that Madam said she (addressing her speech to the Lady Porphirie) that you request me to keep your new sprung loves in secrecy, I promise' you, yea and protest before God, that I will sooner suffer a thousand deaths then to discover any part thereof contrary to your commandment: Neither shall it be known or come out on my side, said, Harderine. Then Marcelia proceeded and said: I marvel where you have lost your Senses, or where that opinion is become, which you had not long since, when here being alone in this chamber, you said to me, that neither the flames nor the strokes of Love, should cuer have any puissance upon you, and that those which under that yoke of servitude, endured so many Martyrdoms and passions, as Amidree told you, that she suffered for the love of Pharisor your cousin, the flower of valiance in all Grece, were but fools, inconstant and void of understanding: saying furthermore, that as for you, none should ever have part in your favour and grace, much less in your Love: who was not reputed for the puissauntest and beautifullest Prince in the world. And now through the only view of a new Knight stranger, who never burst as yet Spear ne lance, I see you trasported from that steadfastness, whereof ye so vaunted, and so dispossessed with your amorous passion, that having lost all that which best seemed in you, you were forced to fall down sounded and half dead, and scarce yet know where ye are. Alas it so behoveth not any to govern themself: it is not fit to use such fashions and deeds: for if you proceed any further, I assure you, it can not chance but to your great dishonour, being in fine discovered. But I will tell you, seeing in this, it pleaseth you to use my counsel, I think this best in my conceit, that for these fifteen or sixteen days you seem to keep your Chamber, feigning to be somewhat sick: as well not to give any conjecture of the cause of your Malady: as also thereby losing the sight of the Youth, which is the only object (as I understand) of your Passions, who at that term prefixed must depart, abandoning this motion of Love which is but imaginative. Which the more violente and sudden it hath been, so much the sooner shall it vanish away, and the webs thereof be worn out of your memory. Like as their custom is, who lightly having apprehended the object of Love, and attiring themselves therewith: Do suddenly and unconstauntlie forget the same by discontinuance of contemplating their chosen mark: and this is the only remedy which you must use for your amendment. Assuring you, that if you do otherwise, (as look how near that one approacheth the Fire, the more forcible feeleth he the flames, and scorching heat: likewise imitating the Butterfly, who strives to burn herself in the Candle) if you call him into your presence, affectionating yourself more to behold him: than your malady, no less than your defamation will take such root and increase, that you not able to rid your hands thereof, too late will come repentance. What (said the Princess) lady, is this same the best counsel and succour, which you seem good to give me? Deem you, that I have so lightly apprehended and imprinted, the love of the young Gentleman in my heart, that I can disburden myself thereof at pleasure, as you say? Seeing that the same should proceed from me, rather of a great imperfection of judgement, depending upon an opinion without effect, then of the loyalty and steadfastness, which I am already resolved to bear him, all the days of my life: which surely shall shortly take end, if I know not quickly, that his amity is reciprocal, and correspondente to mine. Not, not, if ever ye did me pleasure, or if ever you had a good mind to gratify me, it behoveth you my Ladies & friends, that at this present you do me so much service, as to search where he is, and to learn by some honest and subtle manner, if he may find in his heart to love me, or if he have his mind fixed else where. Beseeching you herein, to proceed in such manner, that mine honour may thereby be as little as ye can, blotted, neither mine intent discovered: which thing if ye vouchsafe to do, I am so acerteined in your forefight and wisdom, that you shall thereby gain to yourselves great honour: or at leastwise if this seem of to hard digestion for you, I pray you give me some other better counsel, not like to that afore recited: assuring you, that if you forbidden me not the discontinuance of love, I will enforce myself by all means possible to use your advise. Liege Princess (said Marcelia) to tell or certify the Youth that you are amorous of him, or to give him other notice thereof, then by the eyes (which are the true and accustomed Messengers of the most privy intentions of the heart) seeing you are so stiffly bent never to love any other: it seemeth me, that it cannot be done, wntout inferring great dishonour to your parsonage. For in speaking by my Mouth, or any others, you should seem to use the Office of asking that, which were enough rather to make you lose for ever your new chosen friend, then to make him yours For thereupon he would hold himself so proud and pray sumptuous, if in this case he caught sinatche of the lest thing in the world, that in am of loving you, he would rather disdain you. Nevertheless, I will tell you what I have seen, and more than that, have marked: that when so ever he hath chanced to see you, he hath no less changed countenance than you, which maketh meedeeme, that wheresover he be, he is not altogether exempt, from the feeling of affection like to yours: which thing we may thoroughly know to the truth, during these fifteen days which he hath to remain here. In such prefixed space, I believe, that if there be any goodness in him, we shall know it. For he will be at the justs which the Emperor will 'cause to be proclaimed to morrow, as I understand: whereat all the best knights of Constantinople, will be as assistants: and Don Gillant de Burtage of Created Britain, who is marvelous valiant, will be there also: against whom, we shall see how he can bear himself, and what he will do moreover, if he have any affection towards you. For if it be so, I assure myself, that if he may vanquish any, he will send him to be your Prisoner, or will use some such gentleness or courtesy in your behalf: for verily it seemeth me, that if he be of so high lineage, or if he be so valiant as in appearance he seemeth, certes he is worthy to be beloved of some great and beautiful Princess. Wherefore, Lady, I pray you, cease your Tears, that you give not out any suspicion of your distress: be temperate till to morrow, and then I promise' to give you counsel, upon further deliberation, more wholesome and agreeable, then presently I can. For now we must go towards the Empress, to deliver her of the dolour wherein she yet resteth, supposing that by this time, you are near hand dead. And keep the best countenance you can, thereby to cloak your care: & so God will aid you soon (you shall see) in some sort. Then taking her by the left hand, and Harderine by the right, who said unto her: good God, Cousin, I would not for any thing in the world, be so amorous as you: and for this cause will, I keep myself quiet from blaspheming of love ever hereafter: seeing that his puissance punisheth so pitifully, those whom he once taketh in hand. And then they arrived in the Empresses Chamber, who was exceeding glad when she understood that her daughter seemed as now to have no further malady: where we now will leave them, and tell what chanced to the Youth of the Fairies.   

Of the perplexity of the Youth of the Fairies, after the sight of Porphyria her surpassing beauty, and how the Emperor sent to seek him by his Squire Geliaste, who came and found him being all sad and pensive: and letting him understand how the Emperor had asked for him, he went into the Hall, where the Table was covered for dinner: where he being set with him in the company of his Barons & Knights, much marveled to see them dine in their Harness: whereof he making inquiry, the Emperor recompted to him the adventure of three matueilous Giants Ferclaste, Androfort and Ergoferant, which caused that shortly after he departed secretly from the Court, to go fight with them, and of the adventures which he found by the way.  
¶ The xi. Chapter.  
AND on the other side was the Youth of the Fairies, who having seen the incomparable beauty of Porphyria, felt himself (when as he first set his eyes upon her, wounded and smitten by the same shaft, & seniblable pricks of love. True it is, that his passion was not at the first show so violence, that (like her) he should presently sound, in that, he was more manly and strong, to suffer assaults, (or perchance to speak more plainly) he was not burdened so much, as she then presently: but long it was not, ere their passions were equal: For seeing her to fall into a trance, amongst her Maids and damozels, who bore her up, and brought her into her Chamber, he all astonished, passed by a portal, from out of the Hall into a Gallery, which bordered on a fair and pleasant Garden, at the end whereof, he found certain steps to descend down, and so walked long time, solely descanting upon the new cogitations of his Love. And herein he imagined so well, and called so curioussy to remembrance that Angelical shape, which he had seen, and which held him so ravished, and wherein he had entered so far, that becoming ardently amorous, he felt for certainty, the final loss of his late power and liberty. But wort ye how: Frsooth this impression imaginative took such increase in him, that he knew not where he was: for his heart yet tender, young and easy to receive such like violente impressions, did naught but imagine how to find means, to let her understand his grief, and to win her favour. Well daring (although he knew not of whence he was) to aspire so far, as too promise himself the Alliance of as great a Lord, as the Emperor of Constantinople: as well as if he had been assured of the house, whereout he was descended: so magnanimous an heart had he, and in such fort was his haughty mind settled. But moreover, considering the impossibility of the fact, be changed soon his opinion, and become astonished, as once was the lame Smith of jupiter, at what time through Choler, he was cast down headlong from heaven. For he tormented himself through the vehemency that he felt, broiling in the fire, which continually increasing in flames, made him to suffer more torment and aff●tition: when sagely he considered the inequality of his loving Lady and him. Finally, all these things considered, seeing his affairs fell out so ill, and that the fire increased in his breast, by the imagination of his Miffresses' feature and beauty, which in beholding had dimmed, and darkened his eyes and senses also with their dulcet venom, whereof feeling the alteration and violence more vehement (seeing he durst not to make semblant thereof to his Dame) he resolved to separate himself from that pleasant infection: to the end, that being absent from the Coals, he might rake the rest of the Fire, under the Cinders of his Cogitation. And verily this his counsel was very good and wholesome: if the body being absent, he could also have estranged his thoughts, & forgotten the object of his torment. On the other side, he weighed the promise, which he had made to the Emperor, which was, to remain in his service: which thing for any worlds good, (seeing himself so bound and vowed unto him) he would not break nor violate. In this perplexity rested he more than two long hours, still walking up and down the Cardeine, while the Princess Porphyria, (who drew with him the yoke of equal torments,) was in counsel with her damozels, as you have heard in the Chapter precedent. And I deem he might have remained so longer, had it not been for his Squire, who sought him on all sides, by the commandment of the Emperor, to come to Dine with him: who went so far from chamber to chamber, and in such order, that in fine he found him dreaming, and musing in the Cardeine, in such wise, that he called him twice or thrice, being very near unto him, before he heard or apperceived him: who approaching more near to him, called out on this sort. Hola Master, what mean you, are you become deaf or blind? For now it is a whole hour since I have been here with you, to tell you how you must come to the Emperor to Dinner, in all which while, ye have not made semblant, either to hear or see me. And how? (In God's name) more than an hour, Said the Youth of the Fairies? Yea forsooth, said he. But not of these great hours, which you think not, but of these short hours, which pass in so small season, as you may employ in calling you thrice at the least. Aha (said the Youth) I believe ye well: For I have my mind so busied otherwise, that it may well be, that not thinking on thee, I have ne seen nor heard thee. What Sir? And whereon may you have your thought so fixed? Unless it should be, that you were stricken with the love of the emperors daughter, who is esteemed the most perfect in beauty, that is known presently to be in the world. verily if you have seen her, I think you have tasted enough, whereon so to occupy your thoughts. O Geliaste (said he) for Gods love speak no more to me of that: For I have never seen her, but to my great damage. Wherefore I pray thee, that incontinently after dinner, my Horse & Harness be ready: for I mean, (without making any prynie to my determination) to absent myself hence, so to banish & defeat this opinion. I willingly will Sir, (said the Squire) but by mine honesty, since you have so far gone, I fear you half lost, if you use none other remedy but absence. And what thing more expedient may I use, replied the Youth, I would wish you (said he) to find means to speak to her, and to let her understand your Passions, possibly she will take some pitiful compassion upon you, or at least wise, ye shall receive by discovery of your evil, some recure and help. For so would I deal if I were in your case. Hence Sot that thou art, thinkest thou me so ill trained by, that I should seem to give the least suspicion possible of my Sorrows, either to her or to any other person, against all reason? Nay, take thou also good heed from giving out any adverse speeches I warn thee: considering the great reproaches which I may incur by my folly, in that such a simple Knight as I, not witting myself from whence I am, ne ever have achieved feat, worthy of the favour of the worst Damozell in the world, dare aspire to seek the acquaintance of one so great a Princess: who, if I should do as thou sayest, she worchely scorning me, would not (I fear) deign to take me for the worst of her servants, having many my hetters in worse place of service than that. Wherefore never move me more of so manifest a folly: And what my Lord (said again Geliaste) how is it that your heart is so base, & pusillanunous, that ye bear not yourself in worth, always above a woman? Not above such a one as she (said he). verily (answered the other,) if ever one had seen me break a couple of Lances against a dounghill, (which is easy you know) & that I were horsed at advantage, as you are: also if I had your beauty & parsonage, I know not so gallant a Girl in all this Town, but she would think herself happy, to have me for her friend. Therefore (Master) my best advise and counsel is, that to morrow you show yourself valiant, and courageous in the justs, which shall be: for (surely) by that means ye shall win her heart. Thou speakest now better than thou didst erewhile (said the Youth. And I will not only prove myself to morrow at the justs: but also (if I live) will (to make myself more renowned) go search strange adventures in Great Britain, and Combat with the best Knights that there be, yea not excepting King Floridamant, who hath so great renown of valiancy, before I will assure myself to obtain the good grace and favour of my new Mistress, whom I am determined to serve and honour in mine heart, as long as life shallbe resident in my body, and to her only will I vow my love. Wherefore remember that, which I have said to thee, that after dinner my Harness be ready: for I will not be known to morrow when I shall come to the justs. Master, said Geliaste, trouble yourself no more about that, for each thing shall be priest at your pleasure.  
So, secretly devising together, they arrived in the emperors Halle where the Tables were covered against dinner. And the Emperor being set down, caused the youth to be placed next unto him, so to do him the more honour, and all his Knights & Barons after him in order: who at dinner time were all armed with their swords by their sides, and Helmets on their heads, & did eat having their Bevers put up: the Gates of the Palace being all shut, and many Soldiers about the same, to be their guards. Whereat the Youth of the Fairies much marveling, could not but inquire, whether it were the custom of the Country, so to dine Armed: thereby to honour the Emperor the more, who only was unharnized, or if there were any deeper occasion, which drove them so to do. Know (Youth, said the Emperor) that according to your opinion, this is not done without cause. For against such a day as to morrow (which is the day of my nativity) I have annually accustomed to make a most sumptuous Feast, whereunto I call all my most private friends, and grand Princes of mine Empire, as you see here present, & appoint justs and Tournmentes, and all other sorts of pastime. But whiles we are in mirth and feasting, we always feel ourselves troubled in some sort, by the invasions of a monstrous and unreasanable higge Giante called Ferclaste, who keeps an Hold, not passed four of five Miles hence, in a certain Rocky cave, commonly called Rock Alpine: who with his two brethren, who are neither better nor lesser than he, and another ravenous kennel of Dogs which he keepeth, never faileth as to morrow, to come and do some outrage to some of the City: as to ravish some maid, or murder some Knight. In so much, that the last year, he came hither even into this Hall, and with his great Club, even in my presence, he cut of the Duke's head of Chalcyde, who was a Knight right wise and valiant. And furthermore this night last passed, word was brought unto me that he had ravished a gentleman's daughter of my Court, called Florenges, who now is not here for the great dolour he hath of the loss of his daughter. And doth me so many other outrages (against which I can find no remedy nor order, for that he still keepeth himself enclosed in his Rocky Cabin) that I can not well declare them. Many worthy Knights there have been as well of this Empire, as else where, that have fought with him hand to hand, but never was seen any to return: for either he quickly killeth them, or else quietly keepeth them in Prison: and amongst the rest he hath one, if happy he be not dead, who was the best of all my retinue, and for whom (as well therefore, as that he is my nephew) I am much sorrowful, and he is called Pharisor. And thus ye now know, why my folks not of their own courtesy, but straightly constrained thereto, take themselves thus to their Guards. Yea, would GOD it had cost me the half of mine Empire, that some good knight had rid these Costs of him. For I doubt me, that at the justs to morrow, he will do us some mischief, seeing he cometh not to day, for his wonted hour is past. Care ye not (my Liege) said the Youth of the Fairies when the Emperor had done speaking. For God who leaveth not any wicked Act unpunished, will deliver you well of the damages that they have done you, through his grace, guerdoning them according to deserts. If he set not hand thereto, said the Emperor (I fear me) it is unpossible for any human wight to vanquish them. For this Ferclaste who is the strongest of them all, findeth not so hard iron, that with his ij. hands he easily pulleth not in pieces, sooner than one of us, a Branch or Sprig of a Tree: and carrieth a Club so big and monstrous, that four strong men cannot lift it up from the ground: with which I believe there is not so sure an Armour, nor so stiff a shield, but he will with one stroke break it to Powder. And his brethren Ergoferant and Androfort, have some while a battle Axe, so sharp and piercing, that there is neither Iron nor Steel, of what hardness soever, which flieth not in pieces at the attaiute thereof: otherwhiles they carry each of them the Clappers of two Bells, which they had brought into their Cave, from Saint Peter's Steeple of this Town, the greatest things that ever were seen, which they handle and wield, as well as one of us would do his Sword: Briefly that is the most hideous thing to behold, and horrible to hear, that ever was told or related.  
So with such and other like talk they passed away the time, until the Table was taken up, and then after dinner the Youth separated himself so well as he could, from the other knights, with whom he could have been content to have talked more of the Grants: of whom although they could him marueilles, yet he went to see his Squire at the Stable, where his Horse and Geliaste was, whom he found both ready Saddled and Bridled. Being harnessed with the good Armour which the Fairy had given him, be mounted upon the good Steed Lycocephal, and Geliaste upon his, and so demanding the way to Rock Alpine, they took on that way, which was taught them, leaving them astonished at their hardiness, of whom they had demanded the way, each one judging that they meant to try some masteries with the Giants. But Geliaste, whom this game pleased not best, had no delight to give and jest as he was wont, but rather trembled for fear, seeing his master and him draw near to the Den of such Giants, saying to him. Alas Master: why purpose you to go spill yourself? whither is it, that you go? or what will ye do? woe is me, have you no regard of yourself: what mean you to cast yourself into the fire which will assuredly hurne you? you haus heard that in this Rock Alpine are such monstrous Giants, as will soon rent & tear you in pieces, and yet go you thither? But what think you to do there? when as you well know, that they have destroyed and put to death an infinite number of so valiant Knights, which thither went, and never returned. Hold thy tongue, Beast (said the Youth) for if they kill me (as thou sayest) I shall be delivered from the most miserable torment that ever poor wretch endured: and if I chance to vanquish them, I shall get both great renown, & also the Emperors favour: & possibly moreover (which most I desire) the good will of the Princess Porphyria. And so I shall be exempt from my Passion, or at lest wise, somewhat eased: supposing by this little service, which I shall do her herein, that she shall have some occasion to favour me, and to make more account of me then ever she yet did. And if thou be so afraid as thou makest semblant to be, thou mayst hide thee in some part of the Rock, until such time that thou seest me either vanquisher or vanquished of the Giants. The devil take me if I hide me in their Rocks, said Geliaste, for if these monsters find me there, they will eat me all up at a Morsel: wherefore think not that I will ever leave you. Do therein as thou wilt, said the Youth. And with such talk passed they the time, all the long way, till they arrived in a certain wood, which was not far from the Rock Alpine. Where in when they were entered a little, they heard the voice of a Damozel, who complained sorrowfully. They staying their Horses to understand what it was, apperceived the foulest villain that ever was seen, & not so diffigured, but far worse appareled. For his clothing was so rend and torn, that it showed the one half of his flesh more filthy and black, than any Collier or Chimneisweper of the City, which fellow carried on his shoulders a sack full of somewhat. Whom the Youth espying, remained more coy as well in that he heard again the former voice, as that he would also see whither the Paisaunt went: whom at length he saw to rest himself near to a great Ditch, which was about the wood, and there casting his sack on the ground, he heard him speak in this wise, counterfeiting his voice. Madame, had you not rather be beloved of a brave and valiant Knight and Gentleman who will take you to his spouse and wife, if so you be pleased: then to suffer yourself, perish and die this rashly. For here now is the ditch wherein you must be drowned. Then heard he a voice from out of the sack, which said, yes willingly: But I would feign see him. Then the Villain unbinding his Sack which was of Tanned Leather, plucked out the head of a brave Damozell, which was there within: who looking all about her, demanded of him where the gentleman was that spoke of her. Behold here, Wench (said the Ruffian by himself) setting his hands on his side bravely, and marching gallantly five or six times about the Sack: go wicked Villain said the Damozell) I had rather be dismembered, by peicemeale, then that thy filthy flesh should touch mine. Scarce had she said so, but the Villain angrilie shut her again in the Sack, and was about to cast her into the Ditch: when as the Youth having seen all the matter, ran to him and stayed his purpose, saying. Rascal, what is this that thou hast in this Sack? Sir. said he. it is the Bolster of an old bed, which my Master Ferclaste hath bidden me to cast into this ditch, because it is rotten. Thou liest, said the Youth, for me thought I saw a damosel, who because she would not condescend to thy filthy lust, thou wouldst cast into this Ditch. But sir, you shall supply her room: and in steed of her, end your unhappy days: and so taking him by the beard, he commanded his Squire to unloose the Lady from out of the sack, wherein he put the pernicious Peasaunte, his head downwards, and so cast him into the Ditch: which done, he demanded of the Damozel from whence she was: and why they would have drowned her? Whereto she answered and said. Worthy sir I am daughter to one of the Emperor's knights: who was taken away yesternight from out of the city by the Giant Ferclaste, to whose disordinate lust, because I would not willingly obey, he hath commanded this villain on this wise to make me away: from whence you have saved me, and thereof I heartily thank you. And if it may please you, to go with me to my father's house in the city, he will for your happy delivering of me, reward you to his power, although not according to your deservings. For well I know, that he is sorrowful for my sake. Damozell (said the Knight) of Guerdon for your delivery I smally care, seeing that therein I have done but my duty, which is to succour Ladie● oppressed as you were. And to return into the City as yet, I must not, because I have first vowed to fight with the Giant Ferclaste, to see whether he be such an one as men say: as well to revenge the outrage which he hath done to you: as also to rid the world of so pernicious a Plague and hurtful, as he is. All which while, you may remain here with my Squire, if you have any fear of him. Fair sir (said she) I shall do all, as it pleaseth you, for in greater peril can I not be, then that, whereof you have delivered me. And so the Damozell remained with Geliaste in the forest, hidden in the thickest bush they could find: bitterly bewailing the peril of the Youth of the Fairies, who was departed from them, and gone to fight with the Giants at Rock Alpine.   

The Youth of the Fairies being departed from his Squire, did so much, that at last he came to the Castle of Rock Alpine, where being discovered by the Giants folks, they came & assaulted him on all sides, to kill him or take him Prisoner. But he used them so, that having slain some of them, the rest durst not approach him: which thing the Giants within their Rock seeing, came thither themselves in person to take him: but he bore and defended himself so valiantly, that after he had slain two of them, that is to wit, Ferclaste and Androfort, he saved the life of Ergofarant, who yielded himself to him.  
¶ The. xii. Chapter.  
THE Youth of the Fairies being departed from the Damozell, and his Squire, whom he had left hid in the Wood: went not very far, but that he was out, and then he apperceived the Castle of Rock Alpine, not far from him, in a place very steep and high: on the top whereof, was a Thicket, or little Wood, continually pestered and stored with thieves and Robbers, who there still lurked to espy, if any one passed before the lodging of the Giants, that they might suddenly set upon them, & put them to the spoil: with whose coin & harness they furnished themselves afterward. These fellows espying the young Knight coming on horseback soberly that way, thirty or fourcie of the wightest and best horsemen among them, came down speedily, of purpose to take him, whom he quietly suffered to approach him, to the intent he might speak to them: but when they thought themselves near enough, one of them which came foremost▪ and was captain of the Giants Guard, called Mitrocarde, having descried the Knight, who as yet had his Helmette unclosed, seeing him so young and fair, and so well horsed, said unto him. Hola fair Son, alight, alight, for this will serve to carry our master Ferclaste, when he goeth a progress, seeing he scarce can find a better, or a stronger to bear him in my judgement. Do this & I will work so with him, that (because you seem so fair and beautiful) he shall save your life, but than you must serve him for a Lackey: and I believe, he will be content to take you to his Page, at my entreatance, but you shall give me for my labour this fair Harness which you wear. When the young Knight had heard him thus speaking, he answered him. I am come hither, to give thee and thy Master also this harness, which thou seest in my hand, showing him his Spear: which presently he put in Rest, and pricked the good Horse Lycocephal with his Spurs, who inflamed like lightning, ran with such force, that the first whom he attainted, was the said Mitrocard, who had so spoken to him. And so it befell, that he sent his Spear forcibly through the midst of his body, which appeared behind more than two fathoms: whereat the others thus seeing their Master which was so valiant, and who erst had slain and taken so many galant knights, without ever foil or damage of his own body, slain so quite outright, with the sudden stroke of the Spear, they were much astonished. Nevertheless, seeing themselves so many against one, in hope to weary him, they ran upon him, and enclosed him round about, with great sword and Halberds, wherewith they gave him many a foul stroke upon his Shield: but it was so good, that they did themselves more hurt then him, and the sword wherewith they struck him, flew back out of their hands, whereof they were much abashed. But to dispatch himself the sooner of these Raskalles, he took Sword in hand, using the same with such dexterity and fury, that those three which encroached so fiercely upon him to kill his Horse, went by his help to hear their captain company, into an other world. The sight wheref so vexed the rest, that they heinde him round about, both behind and before: meaning miserably to Massacre him with their Axes, Clubs, and Spear staves. But he handled them so, that in less than an hour, ten of them lay dead slain upon the ground: which sight so affrighted the rest, that happy was he, which was farthest of from this new found Enemy. And so retiring still back, knowing that they could in nowise endamage him, by reason of the sureness of his Harness, they straightways devised with themselves, to try, if they could kill his Horse: in such wise that one of them stroke him by chance, between the Trappers of Iron with a Lance, and somewhat wounded him, but he rested not long scotfree. For the Horse being so hurt and galled, ran upon him with such force, that (willed or nilled his Master) striking him with his two hinder feet, he burst his paunch, sending him two yards from the place where he stood, so that his bowels fell out of his beallie: and then orderly approaching to the rest, helped his Master to supplant them: who so handled and entreated them, that after their hurts, the▪ neither needed Surgeon, nor Physician. And he had brought them to such pass that they were about to take their heels: when the rest which remained upon the Rock, attending his taking, that his body might be imprisoned, and that they might cast Dice for his Armour and spoil, seeing their companion's speed so ill, ran hastily to help them, at once crying aloud. Take heed in any wise that he escape not: for our Lords the Giants will be much offended, if they have him not anon, to use at their pleasure, and to punish him for his presumptuousness, in that he hath killed so many of their folks. At this their cry, the Giants which were within the Rock, casting Dice who should have the Maidenheade of a certain fair young Damozell, whom they had ravished three or four days afore, who was Niece to the Emperor of Constantinople, and Sister to Pharisor the valiant and worthy Knight, whom they kept also in Prison, they start up all three, to see what the matter was, and saw on the plain, how their folks were tasked by the Youth of the Fairies, who so had handled them, that more than twenty of them were already dead in the field: and angry was he only because the Giants came not. For much was his mind set, and great was his desire to kill those Monsters. Which thing the Giants seeing, they roared like Bulls with their voice, making such bruit, that the stoutest hearted would thereat have trembled for fear. O ye Villains and Dogs, what mean you, that ye do not bring us this presumptuous and gluttonous princocks, that we might recompense him for the damage that he hath done to your fellows? We charge you dispatch it quickly: for otherwise if we once come down among you, both you and he shall be hanged with our own hands upon these Trees. Then staying to see the knight either taken or slain, they saw him so lustily hack and hue, that he quite cut of the arm of one of those which (hearing the thundering and menacing words of the Giants) would have done more than the rest in taking his Horse by the Bridle. Which another seeing, and willing to show himself more nimble in this point than his fellow, the Horse stamped upon his Belly, and so suddenly slew him. Then running amongst the thickest of them, who laboured painfully for fear of the Giants their masters to take him, he brought them to such an exigent, that dispersing theimselues this way and that way, for fear of his blows, they durst not any of them after that, come near him: which the Giant Ferclaste seeing, said to his brother Androfort, who was youngest of the three, for that he was already armed, as one that had not long afore been robbing in some odd place: I pray you Brother (quoth he) go you to fetch in yonder dapper Younker, who so handleth our Folks: and kill those Cowards which so flee from him. But take ye heed that ye neither kill him nor his Horse, for he seemeth fair and good, and I believe he would carry me very well, and we will burn the other quick, or make him die cruelly. Verily (said Androfort) you speak well, for he hath truly deserved it, and myself will take pains to punish him with mine own hands, and you shall have his Horse for your part: which if he cannot bear you, I fear me none else will, and my Brother Ergoferarnt shall have his Shield, for it is so good, that our folks could in no wise endamage nor pierce it with their Darts and Arrows. Wherefore to the end that I may go take him and not kill him let one bring me my Clapper of the bell, for therewith I will but touch him a little, to make him fall down the sooner: which done, I will lay hand upon him, and bring him hither upon my Neck. Then incontinently there issued out the Rock four great Lubbers, who with much pain brought forth the great Clapper of the Bell, which he took and cast easily upon his Arm, and ran in great haste toward the knight: who seeing him come, was thereat right joyous. But as he approached towards him, he heard him speak to his folks, saying. Ha' Caitiffs and dastards, by the Beard of the mighty God jupiter, my brother will make you all be hanged, for fleeing from this squallishe Elf here. But one of them answered him shortly again and said: I know not well how you will speed, if you come once there where we have been. Whereat the Giant being chaffed, gave him so great a blow with his Clapper upon the head, that he pashed out all his Brains, and laid him for stark dead on the ground. And approaching near to the Youth of the Fairies said, how now pretty Sir, have you not played rexe, and dealt desperately enough, here? must I needs burn thee quick, (seely Caitiff) for the Choler that thou hast caused in me, and my Brethrens? I know not what thou wilt do (said the Knight) but guard thyself well from me, for I mean to send thee packing with him whom even now so rashly thou hast slain. Oho (said the Giant) in mocking wise, seeing him come with a spear, couched in Rest against him, see here a reckless boy: but scarce had he so said, but that the Knight had stricken his Lance two foot and more within his body, wherewith he fell to the ground: nevertheless he soon rose again, and came to have killed his horse, nothing remembering his promise made to his brother. But the Knight seeing him come, alighted soon down, and with his Sword drawn, sped himself toward the Giant, who discharged such a stroke upon his shield, thinking to fell him (according to his fore promise) that the Knight kneeled down ready to fall on his face: and with that stroke (so strong it was) had he put him in like estate as he did the other afore, had it not been for his good Shield and Arm which sustained it with such virtue, that the Clapper flew out of the Giants hands: which as he stooped to take up, the Knight wisely marking how the matter went, thrust his Sword so far through the Giants back, that he fell stark dead on the ground, roaring like an Ox, when he is by the Butcher stricken down: in such sort, that he was well heard of his Brethrens, who stark mad for rage, entered into their cave, and there taking such Harness as they had, Ferclaste with his Club, and Ergoferant with his Cymetere, they issued forth, and went to assail the gentle Knight of the Fairies, who attended them with great devotion meaning so to handle them, as he had done their brother, all on foot as he was. Then behold, Ferclaste arrived first, who quieting his folks (which afar of still assailed him with Daries & Arrows on all sides) said unto him: O mischievous wretch, what vengeance may I take of one so wicked as thou art, equal to the damage which thou haste done unto me, in staying so many of my solkes, and (which is to me more unsupportable than that) my puissant brother Androforte, who (if thou hadst not traitorously used) would have slain a thousand such as thou art? O woe is me, that the subject thereof is no greater. And if I knew, that thou wert in service with that wicked Emperor of Constantinople, and that he had sent thee hither, to do this that thou haste done, I should thereat be somewhat more comforted, in that I could extend the revengement of the death of my Brother upon him by to morrow: for as soon as I have slain thee with this my Club, I will assemble six hundred men, to go kill him, yea even in his Palace, and all his folks also which shall be easy for me to do, whiles they apply themselves to feasting and drunkenness as their custom is. Wherefore tell me if thou be one of his, to the end that then I may dispatch thee the sooner, otherwise I will make thee die the cruelest death that ever was spoken of. Verily I am of the emperors train (said the Raight) but thou art not yet pressed and ready to do as thou preachest, for I will quickly God willing seal thee a Quittance for any such matter. The Giant hearing him so say, came angerly with his Club, to discharge so great a stroke upon his Helmet, and so to have killed him, that the same quite unbuckled and unlaced, and fell to the ground, together with the Giants Club, which also fell out of his fists, which so were wrinched that he felt them not. Then the other giant Ergoferant seeing his head bore, came of purpose to have cut it in twain, but the blow light upon the shield, which was so violent, that he fell backward on the ground, his Cimetere falling out of his fists, as the Club did from his brother: which whiles he sought for, the Knight being active and nimble, start up lightly, and went (disarmed as his head was) towards Ferclaste: who had gotten his Club into his hands, wherewith he had brained him, if by his agility he had not slightly stepped a side, to shun the stroke: which was so vehement and horrible, that the giant could not recover again his Club, being entered more than two foot into the ground. Which caused that whiles he strived to pull it out to strike the Knight again withal, he came and gave him such a blow over the arms, that he fell down flat upon the stumps, his arms being cut of by the elbows. This done, the other Giant seeing his brother so maimed, came towards the Knight with his Club in his hand, which he had gotten out of the ground, and all enraged, leveled such a blow at his head, that if it had not light partly upon his shield, he had been dispatched. Notwithstanding, the blow was so great, that it dashed the shield full against his bore head: in such sort that it made a deep wound: provided still, that the Club fell out of the Giants hands again: which when he went to recover, the Knight feeling his blood, which he never before had seen, to run a long his tender face, was so enraged that he had rather have been dead, than not to be revenged, of that outrage. And thereupon he ran suddenly unto Farclaste, to whom (as he was holding his Club in his left hand, to have wounded him) he reached such a rap, that he cut of the other arm, Club and all. Whereat the giant being mad and enraged, ran upon him, and gave him such a blow with his foot, that he smote him to the ground: nevertheless, he soon rose up again, and eftsoons encountering the other giant, which came afresh towards him, he lente him such a blow on the crown (leaping ●●stelie into the air, for otherwise he could not have done it) & dashed it so sore, that with the great pain he felt thereby, he fell down and souned in the field. Then seeing himself as he thought, dispatched of this fellow, he came towards the other, who with great blows of his feet still assailed him: but he which well knew how much they weighed, starting somewhat aside, cut of one of his legs just in the gartering place: whereat the Giant fell to the ground: whereupon the Knight approaching unto him, cut of the other also.  
Then he seeing himself in so piteous estate, began to howl and cry like a Wolf, reyling and blaspemyng all his Gods, & in this sort bathing himself in his own blood, he ended his miserable life. The Knight seeing himself in so short space to have achieved so great a victory in vanquishing three so monstrous Giants, and bringing their whole Crew to such extremity: that they durst not once open their mouths to speak one word (for that their governors were thus slain) after most devout (thanks given to God (without whose grace he well knew that he never could have quelled those Monsters:) He took up his Helmet which lay on the ground, and went towards the rest of the Giants crew and folks that were yet alive: with full purpose to destroy them all, because of the grievous wound which he had received in his head. But they seeing him come fiercely and furiously towards them, kneeled all down, and humbly besought him of Pardon: pretending for themselves, that sith it is a Servants duty to obey his Master (they being servants to the Giants, at whose charges and costs they were kept and nourished) could do no less but accomplish to their powers, their Hests and Commandments: and that it would please him to pardon them, as persons being without fault: for that (saving only for their masters wills) they would never have endamaged him. No, Noah, said the knight all enraged, one must not obey their Master to do evil, and much less to take hire of any, to such end: but you yourselves being as ill as they, took pleasure to be in their company, thereby to enrich yourselves, with the spoil of poor passengers: wherefore as Ministers of their wickedness I will 'cause you all to die: at which word he slew one, which was highest, because (of a stubborn mind) he would not kneel down. But seeing all the others so humble, that they neither fled nor made other defence, considering that it was no less virtue for a man to vanquish and moderate his affections, and anger in showing himself piteous and merciful towards the vanquished, then to show himself hardy and courageous to overcome them, as he which was both courteous and kind of nature: And knowing, that it were no praise worthy to destroy those, which resisted not, allaying (as they say) his wine with water, he pardoned & took them to mercy lovingly, upon condition, that they should after that time still be at his commandment, which thing with common accord they promised him to fulfil. This done, he sent to seek his Horse, and mounting upon him, he went to wards the Rock, aswell to deliver the Prisoners therein, as to apply some Plaster or medicine to the wound in his head, For the doing whereof, he asked if there were any amongst them, that was skilled in chirurgery whereto it was answered, that there was one amongst them in that Art most excellent, which accustomably did heal all those knights, whom the Giants having wounded would not kill, but famish to death in Prison: which person had one kind of Ointment, of such virtue, that there was never so great a wound, but therewith in three days it would be well healed, & thoroughly cured as though it had never been. And how is he called? said the Knight. he hath to name, master Rabalon, answered they again. Then said the Knight: needs must I have him for my servant, seeing he is so skilful, is in case he will like thereof. For against his will I mean not to constrain him to do any thing. I think well (said one of the company) that he would rather be with you, then with the Giants: for they took him perforce from the Emperor, because of his great cunning, and have dealt with him very uncourteously. And in so saying, they arrived in the Rock, which was finely cut & carved within like unto a Palace, whereat the Youth was greatly astonished. For there were halls, Chambers, Wardrobes both high & low made, by great skill and industry, which the Giants had founded not long afore, when with their huge force, they had hollowed the Rock, which was marvelous hard, to keep them in more safety: and therein none entered but by one only Gate, although within, were more than sixty, as well of Chambers as prisons, which all were shut up with mighty keys. The which the knight took as soon as he was entered, having found them upon a Table, tied all together with an huge Chain of iron, which the Porter had left there, fearing that the knight ask for him, and being informed of his wickedness and cruelty towards the Prisoners, would reward him according to his deserts, like as his Masters were: and therefore hide he himself, in a Vast and darksome cave, under a Tun where he was smothered. and so he ended his wicked life. But he soon found the good Chirurgeon Master Rabalon: who at the entry of the door crooched down humbly on his knee, to desire him of Pardon. The Youth taking him by the hand, made him stand up, saying: I will not pardon thee: for why, thou never offendedst me, and therefore thou hast no need to ask mercy, but for this that I hear say, that thou hast appertained to the good Emperor of Constantinople, towards whom it is expedient that thou go to impertrate that, which thou requirest of me, for the offence that thou hast wrought, in being so long absent from his company, to serve such mischievous tyrants as thou hast done here: and I will that from me, thou do present & show these dead Giants and knights, being laid upon some Chariot, to his Majesty. For I wot well, that knowing of their destruction, he will be much joyous, considering the manifold annoys which they have still wrought him: & in thy company shall go all the Prisoners which are within, to thank (for their delivery) the fair Princess Porphyry his Daughter after humble salutations to her done on my behalf: for she alone is the cause hereof. And if she do inquire who hath done it, tell thou her that it was the Youth of the Fairies, the least of her Servitors (if for one she will accept him) though far unworthy of such preferment. Then gave he him the keys to go deliver the prisoners, but seeing him to be somewhat wounded, first he gave him some of his Ointments to his sore: which had such speedy operation, because the wound was not great, that the next morning it was whole and sound. But whiles he was thus applying his Medicine, he saw the Giants (whom he had pardoned, and who stood without) enter fearfully, trembling and quaking to hide themselves here and there with great diligence. Whereat the Youth lacing his Helmet and taking his Shield and Sword, set forward out of the Gate to see what was happened: and he apperceived the Giaunte Ergoferant to come that way (for he had not quite killed him as the others were, but only amazed him with a blow upon his head) who being come again to himself, having cast away his Battle Axe, and left of his Helmet, Shield & jacke, & seeing his brethren dead, came and prostrated himself at the knights feet (whom he found with Sword and Target in hand ready) craving him humbly of Pardon. The Youth who was right merciful, seeing him (contrary to those of his kind) so meek, freely pardoned him, conditionally (notwithstanding) that he should go with the rest of the Prisoners the morrow following, to ask Pardon of the Emperor, for the harms which he had done him, and to thank the Princess Porphyria for his life so saved, & to present to her his service, doing still what she should appoint him, whereto he gladly condescended: and thereupon he commanded him to set free the Prisoners and to ask them forgiveness for the damage which he had long done unto them, which thing he did. Immediately he took the keys which Master Rabalon had in his hand, and went to deliver the Prisoners, who seeing him, thought what he had come for some other purpose. But much were they amerueiled, when they saw him kneel down before them, asking them forgiveness, praying that for the love of him which was cause of their deliverance, and who had pardoned him, it would please them also to use the like courtesy towards him: whereto they willingly agreed, for that this same Giant (as it were quite contrary in nature and disposition to his brethren) had afore time been cause that they were well used and entreated: for he was full courteous and pitiful, wherefore he led them towards the Youth, whom they humbly thanked for such a good turn, offering him their service perpetually from that day forward: especially the Knight Pharisor, who greatly requested him that he would vouchsafe to take him into his company: prote●ting that he would be to him a true and loyal friend, and that naught but death should have force to end their amity. All which the Youth was well pleased of. And for that night with the Giant Ergoferant, who showed himself full humble and diligent to do him honour and service and the Prisoners likewise, he rested in the Rock till the next morrow.   

The Giant Ergoferant being departed from Rock Alpine, to accomplish his promise towards the Emperor of Constantinople, met by the way the villain whom the Youth of the Fairies had cast into the Ditch, whom he left there because he heard certain Outlaws in the Forest, who would misuse the Damozell whom the Knight of the Fairies had delivered out of the Sack, and cruelly did beat the Squire Geliaste: both whom he delivered after he had slain the thieves. And finally how after his arrival in Constantinople, he spoke to the Emperor, who courteously pardoned him of the faults he had done to him, and made him promise to marry the Maiden Dinamia, Sister to Pharisor, and of the justinges holden in Constantinople, wherein the Youth of the Fairies, and his friend Pharisor got the prise, being come thither in habit, disguised and unknown.  
¶ The xiii. Chapter.  
While the Youth of the Fairies was setting order in the Castle of Rock Alpine, and in loading the Giants dead Carcases in hosse Litters and such like, to be carried the next morning to Constantinople, aswell thereby to rid the Enperour of the great fear which he had, jest that his feast should be by them disturbed and troubled, as also to furnish and disguise himself to go the next day unknown to the justs: the glittering Lamp of Phoebus had given place to the darksome mantel of the shady night. Whereupon he was then perforce constrained to stay and lie in the Rock with the Giante Ergoferant, and his good and valiant friend Pharisor, where he could not long rest, at his case, for that his quietness was interrupted, by the late enkindled fire of his new sprung love. And so oft as he recorded the incomparable comeliness of his Lady, he took such increase of ardent affection into him, that had it not been for the hope which he had to win her grace and favour by his feats of Arms and valiancy, I fear that (he pressed with extreme passion,) would have them presently died. But (because it commonly happeneth, that hope is the nowrice and maintenance of life to them that are sick or in any wise ill disposed,) he yet comforted himself, & with great disquietness and difficulty passed that night, and partly also was he perplexed with some fear of his new Confederate Ergoferant, of whom notwithstanding any League or promise which he had made, he could not assure himself. And thus he stood on his own guard, whiles his friend Pharisor made ready his Furniture to go to the Justes on the morrow following. And whiles (I say) that these things were in doing, the day began to appear clear and bright: whereupon the Giant Ergoferant, who knowing the virtue & puissance of the Knight which had vanquished him to smell and resemble more of divine then humane nature, and supposing him another Hercules, sent by jupiter into the world to purge and deliver it of monsters and savage creatures, he studied and enforced himself to do him service agreeable: and therefore came to him in his Chamber, to see if he had aught else to command him, offering willingly to achieve it, yea with the hazard and loss of his own life. Who giving him thanks therefore said no, but only that he should take heed to keep the faith and loyalty which he had promised to him.  
Then taking leave of him with humble reverence and amiable embracement, he went to find Master Rabalon, who the might afore had so well healed his wound, that he felt no more grief thereof. This being done, they took their way toward Constantinople with the Prisoners, and Chariotes laden with dead Carcases as was afore appointed. But as they entered into the Forest near to Rock Alpine, they heard a gross and lubberly voice, which yelled and housed wondrously: and it seemed to the Care to come from out of the earth, wherefore the Giant Ergoferant, and Master Rabalon, who was well Horsed, went thitherward, the other Prisoners holding on their way still towards Constantinople. And when they were come where they heard the voice, they saw the Villain whom the Youth of the Farries had cast into the bottom of the Ditch in the Sack, wherein he carried the Damozell, who cossed and tormented himself desperately therein, which the Giant seeing, said: who is he that hath cast thee there: The villain who knew by his voice, that it was one of his Masters, answered, it was the accursed Myself. Then carry there thyself still (said Master Rabalon) seeing it pleased thyself so to do. And so answered the Villain because that after the Youth of the Fairies had left Geliaste, and the Lady hid in the Bush, the Villain cried so loud, that he made the For rest ring with his voice, and kept the Squire from hearing what wait his masters Horse went, disturbing him much. Wherefore he went to him again, and bode him hold his peace, for by his crying he should never be delivered. I pray thee then at lest ways (said the Villain) seeing I must hold my peace, that thou tell me his name that cast me here. It was (said Geliaste) myself: what sayest thou therein? The Villain thinking that he said the knights name was, Myself, gave such answer to the Giant Ergoferant, as is aforesaid: who supposing him so foolish, that for fear he had (having as he judged lost the Damozel) to be beaten or slain of his Brother Ferclaste, had put himself in the Sack, to hide him, who left him there to end his days, and departed thence: for that he heard a trampling of horses & voices of men who spoke as though they were angry, and the voice of a Damozell who cried pitifully. Wherefore going thither, he saw fifteen or sixteen Outlaws, armed with great staves and Clubs bound with Pron at both ends a foot long, sharp and piercing, who with huge blows did beat a poor young Squire, & four of them haled and drew a fair young Damozell by the Arms, and hear of the head most dispiteously. But as soon as they saw the Giant come towards them, they left their pray, and fleeing this way and that way, they strived to escape and save each one his own life.  
But all could not do so well: for six of them whom the giant could catch, remained dead on the Grass there for gage: then returning where he had left the Damozell, he was much amerueiled that he found her not. Then seeking here and there for her on all sides, at last he found her hid with the Squire Geliaste, behind a little bush, so close & so near the one the other, that they seemed but one person. Then alighting from his Horse, he took her by the hand, and the Squire also, who thiking themselves fallen out of a lingering Fever, into a sudden sweat, trembled with such fear, that they could scarce stand an their feet before the giant: who to comfort them, spoke most courteously, and prayed them to tell him, whom, or from whence they were: chiefly the Squire: for the Damozell he knew well to be her, whom his brother Ferclaste had commanded the villain Franquetrippe to go cast into the ditch, who somewhat emboldened, answered him that he belonged to a young Knight, named the Youth of the Fairies, who as he thought was by that time prisoner to the Giaunte Ferclaste: humbly praying him that he would not hurts him, until be knew whether he were dead, or alive. The giant after having amiably recompted unto him all that had passed and being dous, in the Battle betwixt them, assured him of the health and victory of his Master, and that he should have him safe and sound at Rock Alpine. Whereat the Squire was so glad, as if the whole Monarchy of Europe had fallen to his share. And the Giant having left him, to go to Constantinople, they departed, the one with the Damozell, that is to wit, the Squire to go find his Master. And the other which was Ergoferant, to go to Constantinople, where he was not so soon arrived, but he found Master Rabalon: whom in the Forest he left pursuing the Outlaws, who told to the Emperor intentively listening unto him, & unto his Baro as, in the great Hall of the Palace being all armed from head to foot, how the Youth of the Fairies, a young Knight, to whom he had given his Knighthood not long afore, had by his force and valiancy vanquished the Guards of Rock Alpine: part of whom he had thither brought for better assurance of the same: whose dead Carcases with the two Giants Ferclaste and Androfort were come in Chariotes, and also how he had brought the prisoners which they had perforce long time held, to do therewith at his pleasure: The other part remaining with him alive at Rock Alpine: and how he had overcome and brought to his subjection the Giant Ergoferant, who (while this other was thus telling his tale) entered into the Hall, and casting his Battle Are down in the place, and then villacing his Helmet which he laid down at his feet, he addressed his speech to the Emperor on this wise.  
Mighty Emperor, I assure myself, that if you have regarce to the infinite damages and displeasures, which I & my brethren have daily done unto you, I merit to be punished more grievously & worse than ever yet was any. But putting my confidence in your courtesy, & bounty abundant, I have presumed (according to promise') to presence myself personally before your Imperial Majesty, being so enjoined to do, by the fair and gentle Youth of the Fairies, the Flower (although as yet young and tender) of all the Knights that now live, that you may do and dispose with me at your own good will and pleasure. Beeseeching you in his name, and for the great good will which he beareth you, to grant me mercy and pardon of all the faults which I have ever committed against you: which with true repentance, and vowing to you my service, henceforward (as he hath expressly commanded) I humbly require and obtest. The Emperor who in benignity and clemency was second to none in the world, as well for the good news brought him, as for the love of the Youth, whom he deemed sent from heaven, to help his calamity concerning the Giants, pardoned him with good heart, being joyful of so good fortune▪ knowing further this Giant by his sookes and countenance (coutrarie to the kind of such) to be very mecke and gentle: and also having heard say that through his clemency, and courteous nature in his brother's life, he had released and let go many prisoners, if at any time they chanced to be absone. Wherefore he prayed him to vouchsafe to tarry in his service, for which he would well recompense him, whereto the Giant (humbly thanking him) answered that ever whises life lasted him he would not fail nor be faithless to him. Whereat the Emperor exceeding joyous, said that he would marry him to his Niece Dinam●●, sister to Pharisor, which offer (because the Damozell was marvelous fair, and grattous) he willingly accepted, thereupon he made them to promise' the one to the other 〈◊〉 the of marriage: which done, the Emperor and all his Barons and Knights arose, and went to see the dead Knights and Giants lying upon the Chariotes without: whereat they much meruened, how one only person could by his valiancy, without other aid at all, put to death and dispatch so many puissant Personages, who in their life had troubled whole Arnues: and they also marveled at the mighty blows and wounds which they had. For some were riven down to the Belly: other some quite cloven with one blow of the Sword: and others (as the Giant Ferclaste, had their Arms and Legs cut of: and they said one to another, that aforetime they had seen men slain, but never did they, ne never should they see men so mangled and martyred as these were. Whereupon they largely praised the Youth of the Fairies for his valour: saying: that if he continued as he had begun, he would be the best Knight that ever the world fostered or had brought forth.  
This done, the Emperor commanded to hang all those dead bodies in a Wood, not far distant from the City, which was done incontinently. Then he caused the best Painter in all his Empire to come unto him, and to depaint the History (as a matter worthy of ay lasting remembrance) in the great Hall of his Palace, with the most rich and costly splendizant colours that could be found. And for the great desire he had to see the Youth, he dispatched three or four knights, to go search him speedily at Rock Alpine: which done he commenced the joustings and tourneys, without further fear, whereat were present upon scaffolds, set up for that intent, the Empress, the Princes Porphyry, and the Lady Harderine, with the sage Marcelia, and the gentle Amidree, with many more Ladies and damozels, right richly attired & adorned with chains of gold, gounes of Velvet of all colours, cloth of Gold and Silver, and other jewels: whereof they had left none that day behind in their Chambers, which might help to enhance their beauties, or perfectness in any point: which standing against the shining Sun, showed as they had been things divine rather than human: which thing gave such heartening, & encouragement to the knights that should just, that they taking lofty stomachs unto them, each one seemed to be far more valiant, then in proof he was: those which were pressed and renged for the justs, brake and strained themselves with such force on the course, that at the dashing and stroke of their Lances, which in shivers flew up into the air, some of them being cast out of the Saddles, fell down to the ground: the rest more expert and valiant, without breach of staff, achieved their course gallantly. Which thing a certain young knight seeing, who seemed in countenance and show, to be of great virtue and valiancy, who that same Morning was come to assist at the justs, advanced himself, & came so fiercely with his Spear towards one of them, which had not been dishorsed, & who seemed to him the sloutest juster of all, called Antenor, & who had cast adoune the gentle knight Florenges, and struck him so roughly upon the shield, that at the first blow the lance passed through his body, more than a yard in length: whereat the Emperor was much aggrieved, and likewise all his Barons and Knights (for next his nephew Pharisor he was the valiantest, and wisest of all his Empire: and specially Gyllant of Cartage, who was his great friend and companion: who to revenge his death, came towards him, but he received him so bravely, that after his Lance was broken, he took such a leap to the ground, that all the beholders thought he had broken his neck. The young Knight continuing his course, came against an other busy fellow, and he used him so as he did the other, and without breach of Spear, he overthrew, and slew that day more than fifty of the finest and ioyliest knights: whereat those which saw him, were much amerueiled, for he ran not against any, whom he bore not from his Horse to the ground, and made them moreover there to confess, that his Lady was more fair than theirs, whereof the good Giant Ergoferant being advised, disdaining much that he should triumph so long, purposed to try one blow for the love of his new Mistress, and came all armed, and mounted upon a lustre Steed, weening by his only presence to astonish him, and to make him flee incontinente. But it chanced clean contrary. For the young knight having spied him, came with Spear in rest towards him, and little fearing him, received the blow bravely upon his shield, which was so huge and sharp, that piercing quite through, it passed under his arm an elle or more, which being recovered, he finished his course: the Giants blow (though strong and weighty) not removing him one whit. Whereat he being much despited and angered, took his great Battle Axe, and with much fury came against him (who ioylily received him with such force, that if he had not by his agility and nimbleness, eschewed the weighty blows of the giant, he had not so long stood against him as he did. But fleeing some while the Giants furious blows, some while receiving those which he thought less dangerous upon his shield, so to give him better occasion of play, by rapping him now on his shield, & now on his Helm, he bore himself so valiantly that the battle endured an whole hour: the assistants (who of his valiancy witted not what to judge, were so transported with marvel) not perceiving any advantage either of the one party or of the other, and so weary were they of the Combat, that to take breath they retired back asunder, a roods length, the better to begin their next encountry. But when they had rested in quiet about a quarter of an hour, they would have begun again, when behold there arrived two Knights all covered with the skins of wild beasts, down to their horses hooves, so hideous to behold, as ever was Monster that Hercules slew: who having long time been hid behind the press of the people, who busily beheld the Combat of the giant, and the brave uncoothe Knight, to see the end and issue thereof, were wearied to stand so long idle without plaiing some part of the Tragedy: wherefore leaping into the field (not without great astonishment to the Assistance, chief to the Ladies, who (deeming them Devils or Hags of Hell so disguised) cast forth such a cry, that amazedly descending from the scaffolds where they sat, they fled with all speed possible towards the tops and Turretts of the Palace, to see with more surety the issue of the Combat, and to contemplate these new come knights more further of. But the Empress nor her daughter, neither any of their damozels moved one whit, being certified by a Squire disguised with a Visard and a long white Beard, that these were two of their knights, who of purpose were come to break of the Combat betwixt the giant and the valiant young knight. Who having certified the Empress hereof, road speedily to the Combatters, who by this time had begun to hack and hew the one the other, and presenting to each of them a Lance, said these words. Worthy knights. I pray you, that taking a little Truce, you will hear what I say. The savage Knights my Masters enamoured and desirous of the great prowess which they see to be in you, desire you of courtesy, that giving some releasement to your Combat, it will please you, to take each of you one of these Lances, and let them prove their force by the breaking of one only Staff against your persons: assuring you that they be men and mortal creatures, but yet right strong and valiant knights, and not as some suppose, Spirits, or walking Ghosts, either Castor or Pollux, so disguised. verily for one blow, said the young knight, they shall not be refused on my side, not, not for two or three, if they will so many: but it shall be with this on the Ground (said he) which I will use in this case, for in mine opinion it is stronger than thine. And as he would have descended to take it up, whiles the Giant seized upon the biggest of the others, the Squire took it up lightly, not permitting him to stoop dou●e: and gave it into his hand, which was the same wherewith he had slain and overthrown so many knights: and as soon as he had it, he and the Giant came together, saying, what know we whether they be devils or not, according to their apparel, and straight ways they saw them come with such force against them (with their Spears in Rest) that the greater wild man made the Earth tremble under him, who hit the young knight on the Shield with such force, that he burst his Spear without stirring from the Saddle: although the other had pierced his Shield in divers places: wherein his Lance abiding fastened, he fell huygely to take his measure on the ground: whereat all the people that saw it, said, that the great devil had cast the little devil adomne. And on the other part, the meeting together of the giant, and the other savage man was such that breaking their staves the one upon the other with out failing, they bravely performed their courses: and had begun again to just, if the savage man seeing his fellow with the Lance in hand, which he had drawn from his shield, to fly like the wind from out of the field, had not paced after him with great haste, & the disguised Squire also, who had brought the Spearestaves in such fort, that soon their were out of sight. For being passed the Ton, they entered into a Wood so thick and far, that none could after that set eye on them. Whereof the young uncoothe Knight was so abashed (who thought to have had the price of the justs) that he seemed to go beside himself, and mounting on Horse, took a Lance and road after them, to he avenged of his fall, leaving the Emperor and all the rest so ameruailed that they knew not what to think of this adventure, if it were not that the young Knight, who was cast down, were not the Youth of the Fairies: considering the courage that in him consisted, and that the other were some Magiciens, who had made him lose his glory and honour, which he had gained in the justs, had it not been for this: but they were far out of their count, and so it fell out that by the common consent of the judges, the price was allottet to the greater of the wild men, who had carried away the Lance.   

The Emperor knew who the wild men were, who then wan the prize of the joustings: the one of which (that is to wit) he that had overth owen the young unknown Knight: so spurred his Horse all the long day, that being gone astray from his mate, whom he left in the Forest, he arrived in the evening near to a Castle, which stood upon a plain: where hearing the sound of a Clarion, and the melodious voice of a Lady, he stayed and was lodged there for that night, where he had much amorous talk with the loving Lady, wanting a Lover.  
¶ The. xiv. Chupiter.  
YOU have heard heretofore, how the good giant Ergoferant delivered the Squire Geliaste, and the Damozell, daughter to Flore●ges, whom the outlaws would have ravished, who shortly after, as they went toward Rock Alpine, met with ten Savage Knights, of whom, one having his Helmette vn●aced was known to the Squire: who by his commandment disguised himself, and went on message to the Ladies, as you have heard afore told, and to present the Lances to the knights to just with all, and so went with them. Now this Damozell (after that each one was retired) so as they were a● the Table, and devised of that which had passed at the justs, the Emperor being determined, to send after the Savage men, to know what they were) entered into the Hall (whereof her gentle Father Florenges was most joyous) and with a merry countenance and pleasant tongue, recompted to all the company, that one of the Savage knights, that is to wit, he which conquered, the Lance from the young knight unknown, was the Youth of the Fairies, and the other was the good knight Pharisor, who were in such habit come to just, and not to be known. The which Youth required the Emperor by her, that he would hold him excused, in that after the justs he so departed, and was absent from his Court, because so great and urgent affairs pressed him thereunto. But assoon as he had dispatched his business, he would not fail to come, and accomplish his promise made, & to remain fifteen days in his service. Whereat the Emperor and the rest were much amarueiled, and scar would have believed it, had it not been for the good giant Ergoferant, who said, that he deemed thereof no less: in that the night afore, he had marked Pharisor to patch, & sow together a great many of beasts skins, as Bears, wild Boars, Lions, & such like: and therefore it might well be, that they came so appareled: which thing coming to the ears of the Princess Porphyria, who had inquired it aforehand of the Damozel who on the Youths part (as he had commanded her) had done to her commendations, I leave, you to think whether she were glad or sorry: for these two coutrarieties gave such assalutes, & so troubled her heart, that she knew not on what side to turn her, neither could tell whether she should rejoice: in that love (past all hope) had so much favoured her as to make her settle her affection & mind, upon Knight, who even in the beginning of his deeds, made all them so astonished, that heard speak of him: in so much that never having heard the like, they deemed, and the paynim would firmly have believed, if they had seen or heard of the like, that he was either Mars or Bellona, who had left Heaven, and come down, by his worthy deeds to put people in admiration: Or whether she aught to be sorrowful and sad, in being deprived of the presence of the thing, that in this world she esteemed most dear. Resting in doubt whether his Love, was feigned or no. In this gladsome and sorrowful perplexity consisted she, pondering still how she might best know the truth of a thing so doubtful.  
And on the other part, the Youth (in traveling and endeavouring himself by his valiancy & prowess, to acquire and get of her that which she would with all her heart, honestly assign unto him, to wit, her grace, good will, & favour) was secretly depatted, without discovering himself: to th'end that the Emperor, and the rest of the Knights through their importunauncie, should not stay nor allure him to remain so near that fire, which still flamed more and more, not able by oblivion to quench the heat thereof, so sore kindled by fancy in the furnace of his mind: being thereby so distressed, that (as it were furious and half in a rage) after his sudden departure from the justs, he so pricked forward (without thinking of aught else) all day upon his good Horse Licocephall, that his friend Pharisor, neither his Squire, not able to accompaignie him, in being not so well Horsed, were constrained through the weariness and feebleness of their Horses, to remain in the midway, being in a rough and thick Forreste, where they of force did then take their rest, the night coming upon them. And this forest was fifteen miles from Constautinople, & at the end thereof, which stretched in length more than twenty miles, where stood a very fair and pleasant Castle, in the midst of a plain: near to the which the Youth of the Fairies arrived late in the Evening, and would also have passed it, but that he heard within, a Trumpette, which founded right melodiously, which caused him to stay upon the plain, over against the Castle wall, to hear and conceive the pleasant notes of the solemn Clarion: but when he had so stayed a while there, (his ears being ravished with the sweet sounding Instrument, he heard a Damozell (the Trumpette ceasing) who singing moste melodiously, seemed to answer it in this sort.  

WHat more excessive pain  
Then that which my poor heart  
Doth day by day sustain,  
Of anguish, woe and smart?  
Can one endure or patiently abide  
But death must soon his thread of life decide?   

Nor of what fire what flame  
Is never seen to cease,  
But that which hath a game  
To make my woes increase.  
And boils and burns within my baleful heart,  
With languishing and still tormenting smart.   

That Thief Prometheus  
Although a greedy gripe,  
Fast chained on Caucasus  
His flesh did tear and bite.  
And still thus pained, was yet more blest than I  
Who in worse woes do wallow still and cry.   

For his ill had recure  
And fortune framed this hap,  
That Hercules by power  
Did his annoys unwarp.  
And that the greedy gripe by him once slain  
Prometheus was released from further pain.   

But as for me I fear  
My woes will near take end,  
And that my care to clear  
The fates do near pretend.  
Till that the course of luckless life do pass  
And I return foworn to that I was.   

For Atropos homicyde  
That plays a Butcher's part,  
Must be the sole Alcyde  
That well may with her Dart,  
In me this gripe of love to Mortify,  
Since (else but death) I see no remedy.   
When she had achieved this lamentable Song with note and voice, most pititifull, she retired from the top of a Turret, which was at the one corner of the Castle, most fair and pleasant to behold: and then was no more heard, either voice or Clarion. Wherefore the Youth was exceeding sorry: for in her voice, and sound of the Instrument he took so great pleasure, that seeing himself deprived thereof, a sadness equal in contrariety to all his former joy bechaunced him. But as wretched and unfortunate persons have naturally a custom to comfort themselves in others harms semblable to theirs, so this Damozel seeming to him to be tutched with the same disease that he was, he was thereby somewhat revived: and determined (taking compassion of the Damozell) to go to the Castle, and if it were possible, to recomfort her, But considering well that such as are of perfect eyesight must lead the blind, and the free from affliction, likewise comfort the desolate, he changed his opinion. In fine, considering that he t●at is blind in his doings, leaveth not yet of, to comfort oth●rs in their affairs, though near so like: As those sick Physicians, who can give to their Pacientes better council than they can take for themselves: In like sort do Advocates in other men's causes, although most ignorant in their own proper affairs: he wholly resolved with himself, (seeing also that as well he as his Horse had need of harbourough) to go to the Castle, to see if they would lodge him for that night. And being approached near thereto, he knocked mightily at the Gate: whereat there came a Page well appointed. Who was in a little Gallery over the portal, and putting his head out at a Window, and seeing the Knight in such array he had so great fear of him, that he ran out of the Gallery through another which stretched along the walls of the Castle even to the Chamber where the Lady made her residence. Whether he being come, in post haste hid himself, tremblingly under a Bed. Whereof the Dame being advertised, demanded of him what he meant. Whereto he with great solemnes answered. Alas Madam, we are all dead, for there is a great and monstrous Devil at the Gate, who would gladly enter and come in, which if he do, we are all but dead. Go fond coward (said the Lady) do devils now abandon Hell to come hither? And making him to departed from whence he was hid, she sent him to call another Squire out of the next chamber, whom she commanded to go see who it was that knocked at the Gate: whereto he obeyed. But having once seen the Knight, (no less affrighted than the Page) he came and could to the Lady the like Tale: whereupon she called a Knight, who somewhat more bold than the other, spoke to the Youth, who because he had seen the other asaied of his Skins, put them of, and with his Helmet unlaced, stood uncovered, which more encouraged the knight to speak, and to ask what he lacked. I would (said he) enter in, if so it please the Lady to lodge me for this time. Tarry there a little (said the Knight) to ease yourself & take the ●ire, while I go to see what she will therein do: and being departed from him, at last he came to open him the door, which through (with his Horse) he entered into a large and spacious Court where he alighted: And the Knight having delivered his Horse to the horse-keeper to carry to the Stable, much marueiling at the growth and goodliness of the same, and no less at his Master, led him into the Lady's Chamber, who received him most honourably. And finding Supper ready, with good appetite he took his refection order: during which, she demanded whence he was, and also what his name was. Whereto he answered, that he was borne in the Realm of Great Britain: And to set the Lady deeper in matters of love, he said he could call himself by none other name but Beauty's Slave. At which word the Lady fetched a grievous sigh: which the Youth well noting, and seeing the way now open to attain to his intended purpose (which was to know the cause why she chanted so dolorous a Song as she did in his hearing) he asked why she sighed so. Ha' courtuous Knight (said she) it is not without cause, as well you me deem: for by your name you have reopened all my Wounds, bringing me in memory and mind of him, which by imitating you, I may to myself usurp. For seeing you say that you are Beauties Slave: it can not be, but that in seeing some infective semblance, you have drunk of the same liquor, that I most unhappily have supped up, which maketh me to be in equality of ill ease with you, who as I judge by your gesture and countenance (if I be not to much thereby deceived) are neither less, nor (as well it may not be) greater then mine, I may name myself from hence forward rightly, (the same being correspondent to my miserable condition as well as yours) the Slave of Love, for so hath he tied: fettered me under the Yoke of his servitude (as none living being able to surpass me) I will not hope of myself, being in despair (from which I believe you are, exempt) ever to franchise myself from his servitude: thereto seeing neither way nor path which may conduct and lead me out of this Labyrinth of lan guishing thoughts of Love: in depth where of I am plunged and drowned. I doubt not Lady (said the Youth) but that it is possible that you have some great feeling in yourself, of the ardent fire which Cupid commonly kindleth: but to say that it approacheth (which GOD forbidden) to the vehemency of that, which I feel to consume me, I can not be thereof persuaded: seeing that (as you feign yours) it is my Malady that is incurable, and not that which afflicteth you, as far as I can perceive. For women's amorous conceits are resembled to the biting of the venomous Scorpion, which hath remedy again of the woundmaker. Wherefore I conclude of your disease, being unequal in painfulness to mine, that this name which you seek to usurp, is not so fitting or cönuenient to you, as mine is to me: being perchance contrary to that which you have declared, of having any power to reap redress of him, who hath fowen you those seeds of sorrow: but I am not so. Worthy Knight & my dear friend (replied the Lady) I confess in verity, that those last whoroes ye spoke touching your alledgment, that an amorous in flitence may be quenched by him that kindled it, is a truth. But also I say that which is fatally in men being of the same nature, as you said at the beginning, that is: that my malady is unmatchable to yours, I aught not to name myself by a name (as I have done to imitate yours) not grounding aught on truth. For why may I sooner attain that remedy whereof ye spoke, than you: sithence it is much more unpossible. For that (said the You the) that Ladies, being surprised with the love of some Knight, by their only count naunces and becks, which they well know how to contrive (when they would come to the accomplishmet of their Loves) better than men, there archive more and obtain sooner the fulfilling of their desire, than men being less careful of their Chastity, which above all things they aught to guard and regard, whereof, when, and at what time love forceth to use liberality so prodigally to alloy their amorous Passions, they are sooner succoured then men: who (like as I have done) having hoist the sail of their lives, into a place too haughty and rebellious, for fear of being too shrewdly shent and checked, not daring to manifest their malady, are constrained to consume themselves in the Smoke of flow and languishing fire. Whereas these (men being far more pitiful and courteous in this case than they) at the lest show or twinkling of the eye receive redress of their dolour.  
Sir knight) replied again the Lady, if I would here again allege the force of shame, which is, or at leastwise aught rather to be in women then in men, to have more efficacy, in letting her from obtaining that which she defireth, than the cruelty of Ladies, which in vain you have brought in question, to make for yourself in this disputation, I assure you, that of me you shall not get the upper hand. But seeing perchance you have desire to go take your rest, and that disputing hereon would be to tedious I will confound you, and make you confess, my malady to be uncurable, and therefore equal, or far worse than yours. By an occasion which I have more apertenaunte and brief: the which is even so as I will recite to you, whereby you may more clearly understand my sore distress. Wherefore know you, that I was daughter to the Duke of Chalcyde, who in his second Nuptials, having married a Damozell of noble house, called Marcelia, he retired unto the Emperors court, where a year ago he was slain by the cursed giant Ferclaste, leaving me here for the governess of this Castle, which presently is in my possession through his decease: and to the end I might have no occasion of sadness he left me, for guard and company such Knights, as he had greatest confidence in: one of whom is he, who opened you even now the gate, who is a good & a loyal Knight. But as no body is without a shadow, so few men are found without Print, or press of some imperfection, which accustomably is natural in them. For he hath this vice in him, that if he see any thing which liketh him, or is agreeable to his fancy, he will work so by some sleight (if otherwise he can not) that he will have it. The other whom I deemed of less deceit and treason, was far more malicious. For incontinently after the departure of my said Father, he showed himself to be amorous of me, and by his filled speech and messages, with all other means possible (feigned himself so distressed, that he could not at any time rest, without disturbing me) to have of me the accomplishment of his desires: which caused me, that seeing his distoyaltie, I took it so sore against heart, that after having checked, and chastised him, I kept him so short, that in despite of this my refusal, he changed his late love into dire desire of vengeance, & that so vehemently that there was no treason so great, which he left unattempted, to bring me to his purpose, and filthy practice. But not finding the success of accomplisment in his enterprise, behold a sudden chance, which to mine ill luck herein happened, and on a sudden to him was favourable.  
For one day as he walked in the Forest hereby, busied in his deceivable inventions, he by chance encountered a Pilgrim, whom without thinking thereof (as I have since understood) he asked whence he was, who told him that he was of the Realm of Persia: But for that in his time, he had been a great Magicien, and by his Necromancy had committed many execrable deeds and works, for which to do penance, he had been to see the holy Sepulchre of of iyr Lord and Redeemer jesus Christ: the Knight asked him further, what adventure had forced him to travail so far into these quarters: Whereto again he answered, that he durst not go into his own Country of Persia to devil, for that the great Sophy of Persia called Mutinell, would work his death, because he once vaunted, to have made by his art a Cup of such virtue, that who so ever drank therein (of what drink so ever) they should be so taken with the love of him or her, which gave it them, that maugre themselves, they should be constrained to love past all measure: which cup he never would give to the Sophy, therewith to make him beloved of the Princess Porphyry, daughter to the Emperor of Constantinople, of whom he was so amorous, that having now four or five times demanded her for wife, the Emperor was constrained to accord, so that she would love him and consent to choose him for husband, and that he would Baptize himself, and hold the Christians Law, which for his part he hath doen. But he was so foul and so ill favoured, that although he was esteemed one of the best knights of the world; yet she hated him mortally: wherefore he would have used my Cup (said the Pilgrim) but I choose rather to abandon the Country, and to pass the rest of mine aged days, in some uncothe coast, then to be occasion of so great wickedness, as this my cup might work to all Christendom, as well I have foreseen by my Arte. My Knight having understanded so much of the Pilgrim, was well apaid of so good an encounter. And after asking him whether he yet had the Cup, the Pilgrim showing it, he slew him: and taking his Cup, came towards me, & showing me fair semblance, served me with the same, by means of a Squire, who attended on the Table, being full of wine, made pestiferous by virtue of the vessel: which hath brought to pass, that ever since I have been envenomed by this cruel and murderous drink. Having so said & concluded, she (shedding a number of brinish tears) I look ꝙ she for none other delivery but Death, & the final end of my days, which me thinks too long slacketh, and stayeth his paces, from releasing me of this great servitude. And now see sir knight, how not without cause I chanted that song which you overheard, and ordinarily do use it at the same hour. For that, in telling and complaining myself so shrilly of mine adverse Fortune, I feel great ease and solace. And having heard your name, it seemed me good to usurp the same, which newly I have attributed to myself. But what? (said the Youth) is there not means to appaise your malady, by the enjoying of him, on whom you are so amorous? Alas not (said the Lady) for the wretch (to take the more revenge of me) slew the Pilgrim to withstand my purpose, and so fled, since when I never could hear word of him, that I might have punished him, according to his deserts.  
Then the Youth being in a confused amaze, knew not what to think, but taking great compassion of the Lady (who wept pitifully) he betook himself to recomfort her, the best that he could, and did so much that after having stayed her tears, she caused him to be conducted into a very fair Chamber, where there was a rich bed, and much costly furniture, wherein he laid himself but in little rest, being still troubled with the talk, which the Lady had with him, where we a while leave him, to tell of other matters.   

The worthy Knight Pharisor, who remained in the Forest, heard a Knight bitterly complaining, to spoke much ill of the Youth of the Fairies: whereat he taking disdain, there was between them so hard and sharp a Combat, that both two were smitten down in a maze, but the Knight of the Forest being sooner revived than Pharisor, would have slain the Squire Geliaste, who fhing, met with a Knight that was armed with the Arms, and mounted on the Horse of his Master, against whom when the unknown Knight had foughten, he slew him. And supposing he had been the Youth of the Fairies, took his Armour and Horse, and went unto the emperors Court, who supposing that the Youth of the Fairies and his nephew had been dead, was much aggrieved against him: who thereupon refrained his Court and departed.  
¶ The xv. Chapter.  
WE left the gentle knight Pharisor in a rough Forest, and full of Trees, much wearied and vexed, because his fellow, the Youth of the Fairies was so far passed, that he could not be overtaken, as not being so well horsed as he. But as he was in thought and talk with Geliaste the Squire (who also was constrained to keep him company) what way they should hold the next day to found him out, behold they heard the voice of a knight, who by his words seemed much sorrowful and complained very dolourously, saying with a pitiful and lamentable voice. O wicked and perverse fortune. Is it not now, that I have better occasion to complain me, of the diffavour thou sheweft me presently, then for the favour and grace which thou bestowedst on me in times past I was bound and bend to bless thee? For even as they which will commit some treason, show themselves willing, practising abundance of pleasures towards them whom they will betray, to have thereby afterward, better means to execute more cruelly their traitorous & disceptive thoughts: thou hast used towards me like ways and means: extolling me so hie, that being ready to pass, up to the highest degree, of thy wheel, where I looked that thou shouldest set & place me, if thou hadst brought to pass and let me to have achieved & brought away the prize of the justs, so to have accomplished the promise which I made to my dame & Lady Polidamia: thou hast contrarily (to the end that my fall might thereby be more damageable and shameful) traitorously precipitated me to the most low and base room thereof: the better to bereave me of all the honour, which heretofore I have had in these Coasts, which have the report to be most abounddant, in multitude of good knights: the greatest part of whom, I have by my mighty Arm and valiancy vanquished, not only with Lance, (which was no great honour to me being enchanted) but also with Sword, so far that not without great joy and contentment of her, whom I love more than myself, and who likewise loveth me more than herself, I was had in reputation for the best knight of the world. But alas what might she say, if she knew, that in the emperors Court of Coustantinople, there were one found, who (doing that, which all the knights of great Britain could not do) had made me forsake the Saddle at one stroke with his Lance, I not harming him in any wise? would she not esteem me as it were Paris couched in Helen's Lap? I being so much favoured of her, that I were become a degenerated Coward, and nothing worth: who after having vanquished (before he fell in love at the Games of Wrestling) the most valiant of all Valiauntes, Hector, fled in fine when most need was of his prowess, before the fury of fight, less fearful of Menelaus. No, Noah, I will lose my life, but I will gain again the guard and gloss of mine honour: I will so pursue the Glutton (who after he had with one blow so cast me to ground, fled away) that if I take him, I will make an Anatomy of his body, (be he the biggest of all the devils) as severe Medea did once of the Corpse of her brother. The gentle knight Pharisor having heard these reproachful, and outrageous words against his Companion, could not stay, but that lacing his Helmet, and taking his Spear and Shield, he went thither where he had heard the knight, whom he found lying on the grass, and his Helmet under his head, which served him as a Pillow or Bolster: which he (seeing his adversary come) put on, and taking his Horse which he held by the Bridle in one hand, and his Spear in the other, he mounted up lightly, which thing Pharisor permitted him to do: who nevertheless afterward said to him. Sir knight, upon what occasion have you called him Glutton, who is worth without comparison, more than ever you were worth in your life? and why do you accuse of Treason his great valiancy? well appeareth it, that you have put small store of wit in your brain.  
To this answered the Knight no thing at all (who in his shield bore a Griffon of Silver, in a field of Sable) but retiring from Pharisor (who put himself for ward to defend him) being fully bend, to revenge the injuries which he had said by his friend) came suddenly (so transported with pre and fury, that he could not answer: & rushed against him so fiercely upon his shield (which was of good metal) that he made him forsake the Saddle: but for counterchange of this blow, he was so rudely smitten by Pharisor, that he was also brought to ground & the Saddle attwixte his legs: and thinking it had been him, that had once afore brought him from his Horse, he rose lightly in hope to revenge him: and very glad to have found him so fittlie to his wish, he came against Pharisor (who attended his coming with Sword in hand) wherewith he reached him such a rap, that abating one grand quarter of his shield, the blow light on the Helmet so right, and with such force, that his eyes sparkled with fire, who thereupon rendered his change shortly, by a blow so violente upon the side of the Helmet, that (had it not been good) he had cut his head in twain, for so it went, that he staggered ready to fall to the ground. But returning to himself, he took such heart to him, that giving him with all his force five or six thwa●kes all on a row, he so amazed him that he knew no more where he was: then as one pricked with a certain desire of revengement, and feeling himself so roughly handled & taking heed that his adversary gave him not such, nor so more heavy blows to endamage him) be came to strike him on the right side, and on the left, so that he was constrained to give over his former blows & to settle his shield where now need required. And then one might have seen good sport, for the one encountered the other so rashly, as though they had been both mad: one would have thought that there had been more than ten Knights in the combat, which lasted in this fort more than an hour, without ceasing of strokes, still the most furious that ever were seen. In so much that finally, through feebleness and weariness (the blood issuing from their many wounds) they were forced to fall both down in a Trance, the one here, and the other there, as if they had been dead, where they remained more than a long hour, without stirring either hand or foot.  
Whereat the poor Squire Geliaste, supposing Pharisor to be dead, and seeing himself all sole and alone, after an infinite number of piteous complaints and dolorous lamentations, he went to unlace sir Pharisors' Helmet, to see if certainly he were dead or no: but afore that the knight with the Silver Griffon arose, being revived out of his sound, which thing the Squire seeing (for fear of having that which he willingly would not) he took himself to flight as fast as he could. But (as he stedde, the Knight still pursuing him) who (deeming Pharisor dead) meant to show upon the Squire the extremity of his enraged revenge. But he encountered by chance in the way, a knight armed at all points, bearing a Shield with a great Cross of Gold, in a field of Sable, mounted upon the good Lycocephal. To whom (taking him for his Master) he cried and said: for God's love, Master succcour me, and revenge with like death, the knight Pharisor, whom this Glutton hath slain even now. Then the knight who had no Spear nor weapon, came to the other knight, & stayed him in speaking thus:  
O fair and Noble Knight (for as much as I can see, you are not very courteous, so to handle and use a Squire, who hath not wherewith all to defend himself. Whereat the Knight chaffed past all measure, and said to him all in Chollere: it is even thee, it is even thee, whom I will use so then, as well to serve in his steed, as a more ample subject to my pretended revenge, as to have that fair Horse, and those galant Arms, which thou bearest far fitter for me, then for thee. And saying so, with his naked Sword in his hand, he discharged such a blow upon the knights Shield of the Golden Cross, that he astonished the arm wherewith he held the same. But he hurt him not otherwise at that blow: for his Sword leapt into the air more than an elle high: whereat being astonished, he redoubled with more force his blows, but he felt it worse and worse: For at last, his Sword leapt out of his hands, which thing the other Knight seeing, who had gotten the Sword to defend himself with all, beganue to strike him with all his puissance, in such wise, that the Knight of the silver Griffon, not knowing how to behave himself, as not having wherewith to offend his enemy, warded by such sleight and skill, his blows, that in like manner he came to catch hold of his body, and cast him so bluntly to the ground, that (being not one of the lightest fellows in the world) be could not rise again so soon, but that the other had caught him, and dislaced the Helmet of his head, which he cut in two pieces with his sword: notwithstanding that the other cried him mercy. And disarming him of all the rest of his Harness, he put it upon himself, and cast the Shield on his neck, taking the Sword which he had: and mounting upon the good Horse Lycocephal, who feeling the Spurs, begaune to prance and manage in such manner, that the Knight never having ridden Horse, so prompt and nimble as this same, at his bounty and dexterity become much astonished. Nevertheless, more joyous of the conquest, then if he had been made Emperor of Constantinople: And taking his way towards the Town, he arrived there the next day about Noon, where he found the Emperor and all his Barons and Knights: who all of purpose most joyous had put themselves in way, with most magnifical brave equipage of the Gate, where thorough his entry lay, the more sumptuously to receive him.  
For the good Knight Guillant of Cartage, who the day afore, had followed him to fight with him at the Sword, & so to repair his disgracement gotten at the justs, having seen him that Morning, in a village six or seven miles from Constantinople, where he was alighted to bait his Horse, and deeming him to be the Youth of the Fairies, he returned in all haste, to bring word to the Emperor of his coming: who at the entrance of the city with all his train, came to meet him, causing at his arrival, to sound an infinite noise of Trumpets, Clarions, Fyfes and Drums, with such other like Instruments. Whereof he was much amarueiled: and could not judge for what cause he made him so great cheer, nor wherefore the gentle Knight florenges, advanced himself to embrace him, and to kiss his hands, saying: that he thanked him, for the delivering of his daughter.  
For as much as I can guess (said the uncouth Knight) you take me for an other, in that I never remember me, to have delivered Damozell from any man's hands in this Country. In saying of which words, and other such like (they supposing that he spoke these things, to conceal & keep himself unknown) they arrived in this magnificency at the Palace, where the Tables were spread for dinner. Then at the instant request of the Emperor, the unknown Knight disarmed himself, to sit next his Majesty: who (so doing) had not wholly unlaced his Helmet, but that he made all the company marvelous much astonished, when they saw plainly that he was an other, than they took him for. Yea, look how much in his Harness, & being yet unknown he was loved, cherished, & much made of: so much more, out of his Harness, and known, he was mocked, and mortally hated of many. Seeing it to be him, who at the justs, had used and handled them so rudely, yea, & killed some of their companion's and friends. In so much that (had it not been for fear of the Emperor, who for nothing would suffer any person to have outrage in his Court) a little thing would have made them to have slain him there presently. Nevertheless, dissembling their angry affections, the best that they could, each one stood biting his lip, for the great sorrow and sudden change they had seen. Whereat, howheit he was much abashed, and amarueiled, yet placed he himself at dinner (notwithstanding) next to the Emperor. During the which (the Emperor asking him whence he came, yea, how and wherefore he had so changed Horse and Harness, in obtaining such fair ones as he had) he recompted to him from point to point his whole adventure, and how (as he was in the black Forreste) he encountered with those savage Knights, whom the day before at the justs, after an hard and sharp combat he had there left dead. And taking that Horse and Harness from the one of them, he was therewith returned, to see the end and issue of the justs: thanking him nevertheless for the honour, and great entertainment, which without desert, it had pleased his Majesty to do him: protesting therefore to perform any service, that it would please him to command him. Whereto the Emperor (throughlie moved with ire and sorrow, as by his face, countenance, and rolling eyes, well might appear) answered in this sort.  
Knight (said he) you need not to thank me; of the honour done to you, at your entrance into this city: for so much as to you ward it was not meant, neither was your person the Saint, to whom my magnificent Sacrifice was vowed. In no wise was it for your entry (which hath been too damageable and hurtful for us, yea, that ever you came hither) that the pomp and magnificency (wherein you have been brought thus far) hath been prepared: but rather for one of them, whom you vaunt to have slain, whereof if I were assured, I promise' you, you should never pass my Palliace, but that your cruel carcase should be cut and chopped in pieces, to serve therewith the Crows and Ravens. But doubtless, the beginning of his deeds, & feats of Arms sooner ascertain me, that if you have slain him as you say, or rather rob him of his Harness, and Horse (as well it may be) it was surely when he was a sleep. For otherwise your valiancy was vile, and courage uncomparable to his, as well appeared, detwixte you in the Tournement: whose virtue shined as a fair Face doth, in a five and Cristaline glass. And whereas you offer me your service (said the Emperor, redoubling his Chollere, and knocking his fist against the Table) I have no need of it, and less of you. Neither know I, of whence you are: but this I say, that who soever ye he, it is not in your power, neither in your friends powers (were it that you were King Floridamantes. Son of Great Britain) although you and they employed all their forces to gratify me, so as you have displeased me in killing them: of whom the one being my near nephew, to wit, the King of Austria his Son my dear brother, was one of the best and valiantest knight of all mine Empire: And the other, was he, who in prowess & valiancy was second to none, as well hath appeared by the valiance which he showed, in conquering the Giants and their Guard, at Rock Alpine. For which deed I being much beholding to him, it will be unpossible (I not knowing otherwise from whence he was) to acquit myself of so great an obligation, as he had gotten of me, by this great good turn: which will 'cause, that ever henceforth, I shall be attainted and blotted, with th' foul vice of Ingratitude, which about all others I abhor and detest. And get you from my presence as soon as you can, that I find you no more in my Court: else will I make you.  
And for the great grief which he had of the two Knights deaths, he could speak no further, but all angered and chaffed with despite, he arose from the Table in great agony: which thing his meinie seeing, who were partly pricked with the like passions, they would have overrun the Knight: who hearing the Emperor so grievously displeased, was lightly lopen over the Table, and (fearing outrage) had already seized upon the best part of his harness, as Helmet, Shield, and Sword, which he held naked in his hand, and had slain two of the first, who went to offend him. Which thing the Emperor seeing, caused the other to cease, who as then busily began to assail him mortally on all sides, blaming and reprehending them sharply for being so rash, in outraging a knight unknown, in his presence, and uncommanded: who acknowledging their fault, retired and ceased the conflict, leaving the young uncouth Knight so boiling in ire and despite, that it passed. Such was his stomach inflamed with grief and anger, that if he had had them before him in the field, they had not escaped with the loss of so few as they did, neither could he but speak these outrageous words to the Emperor. Know (said he) thou Emperor of Constantinople, that thou haste misused in thy Court, the Son of one of the most puissant and valiantest Kings of the Earth, albeit that with his person he hath done thee so much favour, (thou not any way deserving it) as to come honour and beautify thy Court: who is of power with the aid of his friends, not only to take vengeance of thee and thy folks for this outrageous fact, in destroying thine Empire: but also to bring in subjection unto him at his pleasure, the whole Dominions of all Asia and Africa. Wherefore deem well, that if thy future chances be not guided and blessed by the bounty of some good destiny, which may take pity and compassion on thee: that to thy great prejudice this prank shall not remain unpunished. And having so said, he went to find the good Horse Lycocephall, which his Squire had made ready in the Stable: wherefore he armed himself with the rest of the enchanted harness which he had gotten: & being on horseback, he went with all haste toward the Haven, where after he had made bargain with a Ship which was priest to pass into the parties of Gaul, he entered aboard and sailed quietly on the main Sea, toward the most small, but most fertile place that is in the world. But if as then, the puissant and toilsome Giant Ergoferant, (who was gone to set order for the government of the Castle of Rock Alpine: the possession whereof (aswell by the Emperor, as by the Youth of the Fairies, as far as he knew, was left to him vacant & paisible) had been there present, he had not gone so thence without Battle, especially if he had heard his last words of presumption to the Emperor, whereby he menaced him most ignominiously: whereat he was so galled and greened, and the other knights so troubled, that they knew not what to do. But after that the blood of the Emperor, which through chafed Choler urged him to this anger, was cooled, and that he had given some release to his grief, he much repented him, so to have used the unknown knight aswell for the great virtue and prowess which he esteemed to be in him, as that he understood he was a Christian kings Son: and reputed himself for so foul a fact committed in his Court, indign and not worthy any more to wear Imperial Crown upon his head, or to bear Sceptre. Nevertheless pondering upon the vehement Passion and just occasion which had moved him thereunto, he changed opinion, and then again blamed his meinie for being so bold in this attempt. On thus wise assailed with these two contrarieties, (which in great fury made him walk up and down fretting and fuming) none daring to presume presently to comfort or counsel him, there entered into the Hall a Page, who certified him that a great Lord of Persia was arrived, who greatly desired to speak with him, and had brought him Letters on the behalf of the great Sophy: whereupon the Emperor changing and dying his countenance with a certain feigned colour of gladness and joy, caused him to be brought in, to hear his Message, and so to answer him: where we leave them for a certain time ere we tell you any further.   

The pitiful and dolorous complaints which the Lady Porphyria made, when she heard of the death of her lover the Youth of the Fairies: and the Maidens Dynamia and Amidree also heard that Pharisor was slain, which thing being known by the Giant Ergoferant, he put himself in quest of the unknown Knight, to revenge their deaths.  
¶ The. xuj. Chapter.  
While the Emperor was much enraged towards the unknown knight, (as you have heard in the Chapter precedent) the Empress with other great Dames and damozels were at Dinner in her Chamber, and the Lady Porphyria with her Cousin Harderine, were in theirs, to prate and parley of the parsonage & prowess of the Youth of the Fairies, whom they deemed to have been at Dinner with her father the Emperor, & the Lady Porphyria was purposed to have spoken to him, after Dinner, and give him some certain secret sign and testimony of the amorous alterations, which with an infinite number of griefs and dolours still distressed her poor heart. But the Empress hearing into her Chamber the prefull words of the Emperor, who cried and spoke loud, and also the sound of Swords and Harness in the Hall, when as the emperors folks would have slain the knight unknown: desirous to understand the cause of this tumult, she had sent one of her damozels down, expressly to know the news, and to bring her word thereof: who having learned the matter, came again all amazed and sorrowful, to tell her of the pitiful death of her nephew Pharisor, whom she so much loved, and of the valiant Youth of the Fairies whom she no less esteemed, for the great good turns which he had done them, in delivering them from the continual care, that clogged them all, whiles the Giants Ferclaste and Androfort were alive and unslain of him.  
The Empress and her Damozelles' hearing so piteous a stir and disorder, cast forth a most lamentable cry, accompanied with a flood of Tears, distilling from their radiant eyes along their most amiable faces: and so quite dispossessed with new distresses, ceased not to weep and lament, some for the love of Pharisor (who to many of them was friend and Parent) other some per compagnio, to see their fellowcs weep so extremely, took thereat so great compassion, that (as women are always most enclinable to the change of affections) as I said, to bear their friends company, more than for grief they had, they made such accordant moan and dose, that never heart was so hard whom it would not have moved to pity and compassion: & especially if he had heard the complaints & lamentations of the Damozell Dinamya sister to Pharisor and Amidree, who (though he were in no wise amorous of her) yet burning in love towards him, she made such lamentations, that (as it were half mad) she ran away shritching and crying into her Chamber, which was adjoining to that where fair Lady Porphyria was (not knowing aught of all this) with her Cousin Harderine, who hearing the lamentable moans of Amidree, went presently into her Chamber, where they found her dead sounded in the place. Whom (after they had with cold water, and other such like things, recovered to her former senses) they asked and prayed her deeply, to declare unto them, the cause of her dolour and great lamentations: which she (not able to keep it covered any longer) confessed, and with a low and troubled order of voice, said thus: Alas and wellawaie, Ladies mine, Ah my dear friend Pharisor is dead: what (said the Lady Porphyria, may that be? and is he dead in deed? O my dear Cousin: But tell me Amidree in verity who hath reported these news? For I can not persuade myself that it is so, seeing he had in his compaigny a Knight, by whose safconduite (as well of his valiancy hath experience been showed) he was sufficient to discomfit a whole army: but I believe it is some one, who (to make a kind of proof of your love toward him) hath dashed you out of countenance, with this crafty cloaked tale. Ah Madam, (said Amidree) would GOD, you now said true: but there is nothing more certain: as well his murderer is lately come to vaunt himself thereof within, armed with the Arms, and mounted on the same Horse, which was once that gentle Knights, that overcame the Giants, whom he hath also slain, and spoiled thereof. And hereat the Emperor is so enraged, that he hath ignominiously chased him out of his Court, although the Caitiff was he (a thing which makes me rather to believe it) which lastly bore himself so valiant in the justs, that none could resist the poise of his puissance, but to death he went, were he never so well Armed.  
At these last words was the Lady Porphyria, so surprised with a sudden shivering of dolesome fear, that she could not speak a word more: her heart & mouth being as it were closed up round, with a sudden passion of those pitiful news: in so much that she fell down flat in the place, rather as one dead, then in a sound as she was: and become so pale and wan, that it was wonderful: not moving nor stirring, more than a corpse quite destitute of vital breath. Where of the Maidens Harderine and Amidree had so great fear, that trembling for sorrow they ran (redoubling still their complaints) with speed, to recount to the other mourning Maidens (whom they found although quite drowned in tears, yet enforcing themselves the best they could, to comfort the desolate Dinamya) this second mischief, and mournful hap of the death of the young Princess. Whereat they all leaving Dynamya, ran suddenly to see her, and first of all the Empress, who first entering into Amidrees Chamber where she was, she saw the corpse of her miserable child, lying flat in the place for dead: and running to embrace it, it is impossible to express, and much less to writ the dolorous complaints, & bitter cries which she cast forth: bedewing her (I believe) with greater abundance of tears, trickling from her tender eyes) than the gay spring time is wont to show of Flowers and plants, in quantity and quality both, to deck and illustrate the green fertile Fields, environed with the River Nilus: or rather with more number and show, than there is Sands, upon the banks of each running River that make their courses & with furious force vomit their foamy floods into the wide Ocean Sea: and (if I should say more) then the number of Stars in the heaven, when in a clear & frosty night they seem most to appear, I should not lie. So was the number infinite, wherewith this infortunate Dame bathed (as though she had been plunged in a deep running River) the corpse of this uncomparable fair & desolate Princess. Who (in fine) feeling her so bewette, and hearing the scriching and lamentable cries (tedious to tell) as well of the Empress, as of her coufine Harderine, Marcelia, and all the other damozels, she began to revive, and by little and little recovering, in casting for the a pitiful and profound sigh, she opened her eyes a little, then seeing and understanding their cries & lamentations, which were about her, enforcing themselves to lift her up, and carry her into her Chamber, to repose herself upon her bed: she fell down again worse than afore: this putting her a new in remembrance, of her vehement and late dolour. Then should ye have heard a fearful redou: bling of Tears, and lamentable cries on all parts: who than thinking verily that she was past recovery, seeing that neither with cold water, with rubbing her pulses, ne aught else, they could not work, but that she was a whole long hour in this ecstasy, without either stirring hand or foot: They wailed piteously, and made a stir, yea greater than the troyans Cassandra and Hecuba, seeing their Infants, Brothers, and Nephews slain and murdered, by the revenging blades of the greeks, and their noble city put to sack by Fire and Sword, which soon consumed it. Nevertheless, not knowing what remedy to use, they convaighed her strait into her Chamber, and laid her upon her bed, departing all, saving Harderine and Marcelia, who upon the corpse, ceased not to wail and speak thereto, as if it had understood them, the others going towards the Empress.  
Who on the other side was sounded in Amidrees Chambers, thinking at the second cry of the damozels, that verily her daughter had been dead, who after a while being somewhat revived, was then laid in her bed by the Damozelles Harderine and Marcelia, who to their power did strive to comfort her: but all in vain. For she not able to give never so little release to her dolour, considering herself quite destitute of mean whereby she might ever recure her raging love, which still flaming and increasing in her, caused and made, that her grief was far greater than death itself, chaffed in her mind a great while against love, for wounding her so suddenly, yea so sharply and surely with his venomous Shafts: then again excusing him for so much favouring and blessing her, as to bend and set her best liking in a place so dign and worthy of her, who under heaven found none her match but him only: then breathed she forth her ire & anger against death, for taking from her a gift so rare and precious: whom Venns Infant of mere bounty had bestowed upon her: Beseeching her, that in midst of so many miseries & sorrows, she would in like wise strike her with the same Dart, wherewith her dear friend was so wounded and murdered: to the end, that where he was either in the Celestial or Infernal Mansion, she might go and accompaignie him, so to open unto him the sum of her dolorous distresses. Then considering that Death, having no puissance on her (as it, which is nothing else but the dissolution and separation of the Soul from the body) through the default of some of the four Elements (whereof the divine providence hath created man) she made her humble and hearty Prayer unto the sovereign Creator of all things, most inslauntlie requiring him, to cut asunder the Thride of her life, if it were his pleasure: thereby to rid her from the unsupportable dolours & distresses, which most impatiently she endured. But GOD, who had not ordained to end and finish her days in such hasty fort: not letting her to wit, that as he can turn the most clear and bright days, into obscure and darksome nights, and the same again into days more shining and radiant, than the resplendaunt beams of Phoebus: even so also hath he power (showing her the severe Visage of a Fortune more propitious and favourable, than it could then seem or appear, employing her back to the burden of an infinite number of anguishes and dolours, covered with a cloudy Veil of cares & distresses,) to take her (at her own desire) out of the midst of the Labyrinth of so many mischiefs, which oppressed her on all sides, & would not hear her Prayer, albeit he well permitted, that through mere grief, she nerehand had approached, the port Acheronticall, by the excess and vehemence of a grievous Malady, which caused in her a continual Fever: which surpryzing her, handled her in such sort, that through the trembling fits commonly accompanying such like pained pacientes, she made the bed to dance, whereon she lay: which nevertheless ceasing, a slumbering Sleep surprised her, which covering her cogitations, with a dreaming obliniousnes, suffered her to take some rest. For unless the natural order of all things be perverted, as one seeth not always, the hot scalding Planet, to dry up the floating streams of bloods and Rivers, nor the cold north in Winter, to make destitute the pleasant forests of their green coloured garments, which the sprouting Springtyme hath bestowed upon them: So is it also unpossible, that (without release) a continual grief should have place in a humane corpse, not adnichillating & totally ruinating the same. Not less neither can an extreme joy remain without some intermission of his contrary. And therefore Nature being then so favourable to this anguish and miserable Princess, that (to encounter her adverse Fortune) she permitted her the having of some little rest: her damozels drawing the Courteines of her Bed, and shutting in the chamber windows, departed towards the Empress. To whom (not long afore revived from sound) they recompted) to consolate her withal) that her Daughter slept sound at her ease: which thing she could not believe, afore she saw it: but when she had tried it true, she enforced herself to give truce to her pitiful plaints and tears. But if she lived them in dolour for the love of her daughter, and her daughter likewise for the death of her late friend, the Youth of the Fairies, the young and fair Maiden Dynamia (who by the emperors consent, was lover and beloved also of the good & valiant Giant Ergoferant) was oppressed with no less grief than they, for the death of her good and loving brother Pharisor, not able without incessant weeping and lamenting, to support and endure the remembrance of so luckless a chance, through the vehemency of fraternal amity (which in all honest and natural loves hath and holdeth the head room, and place) so that she was in her Chamber lamenting and complaining in sort as followeth:  
Alas Dynamia the most luckless and desolate, that is at this day living under Heavens, yea, no less than thou wast happy and fortunate, to be sister to the most valiant and best knight in perfections of all Greece: what hap, what blessedness, what rest, what consolation, or what support hopest thou to have from henceforward in this world, wherein naught can be durable or parmanente, that in one day is not found unstable? Somewhiles when one is deprived of joy, by the success of some luckless encomberaunce or chance: somewhiles when any grief most tormenteth us, & overwhelmeth our stomachs, by the hap of some good hour: which nevertheless is less durable, (chief to me) than the said mischief and most hapless hap: since that it is so, that thou seest thyself deprived of a brother, the most active and valiant, that ever was seen in these coasts: who being causer of all the felicity, and contentment thou hadst in this life, it can not be that henceforward, thou shouldest live to see aught else to follow or environ thee, but all sorts of ill hap and discomfort, laboursome travail and discontentation: if Death show not herself so courteous, and extend not her clemency so much towards thee, as to use upon this thy miserable corpse, the same rigour that she hath showed to thy beloved Brother. O murderer cruel, inhuman, and detestable, which haste slain him: accursed be the hour and journey, that ever thou madest, to come into this Country, to leave us so pitiful a pattern of thy wickedness. And accursed be the chimera or cruel Lioness, whose paps erst gave thee suck: and that it had pleased God, that thou hadst been untimely borne, or smouldered in her womb. O art not thou of more perverse and naughty nature, than a Tiger, Bear or wild Boar? more fell and cruel then ever afric bred or nourished? So traitorously and villainously to have murdered him, which never gave occasion (no not in the lest of his thoughts) wrongfully or without cause, to damage or offend the lest creature that ever GOD made on earth? at leastewise hungry Wolffe glutted with humane blood, why was it that thou satisfied not thine unreasonable appetite, upon this poor and miserable Damozel? Why hast thou not with the same murdering glaive, (which so ended his days, and made me destitute of the thing, I held most dear in this world) bemangled and killed the corpse of her, who how long so ever she liveth, can not be but infortunate and distressed. Ah, noble King of Austria my Father, I fear me, that the insupportable dolour which you shall receive (in hearing these heavy & dolorous novels of the death of him, which was the only stay and upholder of your old age) shall not give much advancement to the course of your long years, who already have whitened both your hoary head and beard. And that ensuring shortly after the message, which shall ascertain you of your daughter Dynamias' Death, who for love of him is resolved to dispatch herself with her own proper hands. I have great fear (and the fear I have thereof, maketh me use this language, & to premeditate that mischief) that with a headlong and swift hastening course, you will bend your steps towards that part, where the Ferryman Charon useth all his trade. But what? seeing that the destinies have of long time spun us this ill hap, Is there any that can withstand it? Not, not, none, be he never so strong or mighty, can resist it. It rests, it rests, that to make an end of my miseries, I go to keep company and visit him, on whom depended all my joy and comfort.  
While she thus spoke, complaining, and tormenting herself moste bitterly, and dolorously, the good Giant Ergoferant, which hastened to arrive from Rock Alpine, beholding all those which were in the emperors Hall assembled, with intent to dispatch & answer the Letters of the great Sophy of Persia, to have their faces changed with a certain great kind of sorrow and sadness, & which much vexed them. To know the occasion thereof, he took his way into the Chamber of his Lady and Mistress Dinamya, whom he sorrowfully found in estate as is aforesaid, whereupon (after he had employed some pains to pacify her, and she consolating herself somewhat by his coming) he asked her from whence proceeded these plaints and lamentations which incited her to torment herself so? to whom, not able to conceal her sorrow, she recompted (although much fearful to lose him thereby, as in deed she did afterward) the occasion of her great grief. Whereat it needs not to tell, if the most noble and virtuous Giant that ever was, were angry, aswell for the loss of his Ladies dear and loving brother: as for the love of him, who only saved his life, and for that cause he was no less bounden, then for her. For in giving comfort & consolation to this young and noble Princess, he armed himself with his Harness and Club, and mounting upon a good and mighty Horse which he had, he departed in the secretest wise he could, from the Court, in deliberation never to taste sound sleep, till he had reencountred the knight murderer of those, who in this world he esteemed most: & to be revenged of their deaths, else to go visit them where ever they were. Where we let him go and leave the Ladies much sad and sorrowful, to recount unto you how the knight, which was slain in the Forest by the knight unknown, had stolen the Youth of the Fairies his Horse and Harness, whom me left in the castle de la plain, with the amorous Damozel, lovelesse, and slave to love for ever, daughter to the Duke of Chalcide: and of that that chanced him after he went thence: chief also to speak of Pharisor, and where he happened to be revived from his Trance.   

The Youth of the Fairies being lodged at the Castle de la Plain, his Horse and Harness were stolen from him: and going to seek the Thief, he encountered in a wood, a marvelous Crocodile, which after a long combat he slew: Then going somewhat forward, he found the dead corpse of the knight, which had stolen his Harness and horse, which he could not find, but those of the unknown Knights he saw: which he took, and armed himself, and after encountered the Squire Geliaste, which slept in the Forest: who led him into the place where the Combat had been between Pharisor and the unknown Knight.  
¶ The xvij. Chapter.  
AFter the hard & sharp Combat which was bet ween the good Knight Pharisor, and the valiant unknown knight, we have afore declared, that he pricked with great disdain and dolour, to be so cast to ground by the Youth of the Fairies, extended further the desire of his revenge: which blinded him in such sort, that forgetting all honest courtesy (which naturally accompanieth the hearts, that are replete with gentility and nobleness, such as his) and without any regard thereto, when he was revived from the Trance sooner than Pharisor, he purposed in himself to annoyed and hurt the Squire Geliacte, who to shun the danger of death which he saw imminent, took himself to sudden flight: and his enemy the knight following him, was stayed by one, who armed with the Harness & mounted on the good horse of the Youth of the Fairies, was by him slain, as at large you may see in the sixteenth Chapter. Whereupon thinking he had put to death him, who had foiled him afore in the justs, and his fellow whom he had left so faint and feeble, for loss of his blood through an innumer able fort of wounds, which he had sustained, he had vaunted himself thereof in the emperors Court: thinking it a valiant Act, as if it had been true: and thereupon caused that sorrow and sadness, to trouble the Court withal, as afore you have heard in the Chapters precedent. But to the end the hap thereof may be notified to every one, it is to be understanded, that the fair and gentle Youth of the Fairies being entered into the Castle de la Plain, where he received the best entertainment, that the amorous Damozell, (friendless perforce) could devise to make him: The knight which came to open him the Gate, seeing him armed and horsed so well, & being desirous to be purveyed of such like Horse & Harness as his was, premeditated with himself, by what means he might have them. And (as one which was not the boldest man of the world) seeing, and knowing, that if he presumed to have them perforce (the event of Battle being doubtful and uncertain) fearing jest the loss should light on his side, considering the great prowess and valiancy, wherewith, by his face and fair disposition he seemed to be adorned, with whom he in this case should have to deal, thought it better (to his great dishonour) to obtain them by deceit and treason as he did. For the Youth being brought abed, having afore spent a great part of the night, aswell in perpending the talk which he had had with the Damozel all Supper-while, as in imagination of her beauty, who deeming her dead, was nearer thereto himself, he fell on sleep about midnight: whereof the covetous knight being advised, which was in watch in a Chamber next to his adjoining, which he had forgot to shut at his going to bed, entered easily and secretly into the same: and finding his Sword and Harness, took them, and went into the Stable, where he mounted upon his Horse, and departed with full intent to do marvels, or else of so fair a gift to make presentation to the Emperor of Constantinople, so to win his good grace and favour. But he was not far passed, but they were taken from him, with loss of his life also, by the unknown knight, as you have afore heard. (God who is the just revenger and punisher of outrageous Faults and Traisons, not suffering not only w that a Robber and deceiver should be suffered to have long or profitable enjoinig of this so evilly gotten, did punish the offence both sore and shortly.) This notwithstanding could not mitigate nor appease, the bitterness of sorrow which the Youth of the Fairies had, when as he in the morning arising, found neither his Sword nor Harness in the Chamber, where over night he had laid them, neither his Horse in the Stable. For of all his furniture the Thief had jest him naught, but the only chanted Lance, which he had won the day before, in the justs of the unknown Knight. Which he taking, and after having known certainly, that without the Damozelles' consent of the Castle (which of his misfortune was much displeased) the Knight, who in the evening had opened him the Gate, had committed this disloyalty and treason, he took leave of her: who gave him a horse the best she had: whereupon, unarmed as he was, he leapt and departed straight toward the Forest, to take and apprehended the disloyal Knight which had so deceived him: thinking that soonest that ways he would take his journey. But when he was far entered into the same, the Sun then drawing high and casting ardent heat, & he also going towards the most thick and rough places, aswell in that, he had some opinion that the Thief was hid there, as to shun the parching heat of Sun) he heard a very lamentable and plaintieffe voice: which so moved him to compassion, that thinking it had been some poor desolate person, fallen into the hands of some Robbers and Villains, or rather some unfortunate Damozell, ravished by some Roisters, he went thitherward, to secure her, although with much difficulty: for what blows with spurs so ever he gave to his horse, he could not in any wise make him go forward: yet pricked he him so sore, that maugre himself, he was constrained to go to the place where the voice plaintiff was, near which he scarce had come by six or seven paces, but that he espied the greatest & dismeasured Crocodile that ever was seen, coming towards him with open throat, and gaping jaws to devour him, and with his two forepawes ramping, seized upon the Horse by the Neck with such force and vigour, wreathing his Tail of ten or twelve foot long all about his Feet afore, that he was forced to fall forward to the ground, & his Master also: who being light & nimble as he was, without semblance of any fear at all, recovered himself straightways (for afore his Horse fell, he had prepared himself for the Beasts coming, and was ready to alight) and griping the Lance which he had in his right hand, and his mantel wrapped about his left Arm, he came towards this furious and terrible Beast: which did her best to take and devour him, as being much an hungered: and not having eaten aught of long tofore, he gave her such a forcible blow upon the belly with all his might, that he pierced quite through the same. Then the Beast seeing herself wounded to death, approaching him before he had leisure to redouble his stroke, with one of her Paws gave him such a grasp, that if he had not with great lightness stepped back, and cast his mantel afore him: without doubt therewith he had ended his days. For this horrible beast had the Nails of his paws more than a foot and a half long, piercing and sharp past measure, wherewith in great rage and despite, perceiving his death to be near, he tare and pulled the mantel aforesaid in pieces, which was of Scarlet, the fearest that could be seen, edged and embroidered with Gold, and great Buttons of Pearl, to wit, those which the Fairy Ozyris had given him. Thus whiles he which had more care to spoil and put her to death, then to save and take his mantel from her, smoate her on the back and breast, with such marvelous blows (albeit such beasts have commonly scales on their corpse more hard than any iron or Steel) that at last he left her dead in the place. Then leaping on his Horse, which pitifully was wounded upon the Neck by the Crocodile, he passed forward in a little pathway, straight to the place where his Thief was slain, whose Carcase he found half devoured, with birds and wild beasts: whereat he was much abashed and ameruelled, chief because he found not his Horse and Harness with him: but well he found the knights Harness which had slain him: which he knew by and by to be his, against whom-the day before he had jousted. Wherefore doubting that which was come to pass, he took the same and armed himself therewith the best he could, and having the shield about his neck, and the Sword at his side, he took his Spear: and being about to mount on his Horse, and depart to search after him which now had his furniture, behold his horse fell stark dead to the ground, because of the great quantity of blood which he had shed by his wounds. Whereat the gentle Youth of the Fairies was much amazed, because against custom he must now trudge on foot. But with patience housding the same path which had brought him thither, he had not gone far, but he espied a Horse which being well Saddled, having the Bridle hanging at the Saddle bow, fed fast on the Grass: which he knew also to be the foresaid Knights Horse, of whom he had conquered the Lance in justs, and now had his Harness, nevertheless he stayed not for that, but after he had put the Bridle in his mouth, he mounted on his back, glad of so favourable an hap: And continuing his quest according as he saw the traces of the Horses before him, he went so far, that an hour or two after Noon, at the foot of a shady Tree, he apperceived a young Squire a sleep, stretched along upon the grass, having an Horse fastened to his right Arm by the Bridle, and his Face all besprent with Tears: whose Visage seemed to see too, most sorrowful and sad: whereof the Youth was right sorrowful, and had much pity to see him in so poor an estate, chief knowing that it was his Squire Geliaste: who awaked, whiles the Youth of the Fairies all astonished of so strange an adventure, stayed himself to behold him: in so much that his Horse perceiving the other strange Steed, would have fled, and so trailed the poor Squire after him (till his Master taking him by the Bridle, stayed him: which done, and Geliaste awaked, it is no need to tell if the poor slave were amazed or no: seeing his shape there whom he thought was come for none other intention, but to put him to death, and would gladly have run away, but that the Bridle held him by the Arme. Whereat the Youth, much marueiling, said: what meanest thou Beast, or upon what occasion, art thou so afraid, jest I kill thee? Alas sir (said he) I do it because yesterday ye would have killed me after ye had put to death my Master, the Youth of the Fairies his friend & fellow: who willing to secure me, was therefore slain not far hence by your hands. The Youth more desirous than afore to know what made him so to say, and seeing him still more and more astonished: unlaced, his Helmet that then he might know him. Who then remembering him, and coming to himself, was surprised with such extreme joy, that it transported him without respect to run and embrace his Master: saying. Ha' Master, what is it that hath raised you again from dead? Might it possibly be the Fairy Ozyris, your good Mother, which hath by her art reduced you again from death to life, and given you these Arms like to those which the uncourteous and outrageous knight had, which yesterday would have slain me, to the end to affraie me, so as you have done? I assure you I am now thereof as glad as I was even now sorrowful, thinking at your hands to have received my deaths dint, since you seemed another. But tell me I pray thee Geliaste, why thou thus speakest, said the Youth: or upon what occasion? for I can never remember that I was wounded of any person, but of the Giant Ergoferant, when I fought against him, much less slain: then how can this be? Also I marvel very greatly, in that thou sayest my dear friend Pharisor is dead. Then did the Squire recount unto him, (from point to point) all the success of the adventures passed the day before, as is aforesaid: whereat the Youth was tossed with extreme dolour, having intelligence of Pharisors' death, and commanded the Squire to bring him where he yet lay, whereto, (they being both mounted on horse) he failed not to obey. But when they were arrived to the place where the combat had been achieved, they were much sorrowful that they could not find his corpse, to bury & Entomb it honourably, as to the greatness of his birth, but chief to his great virtue and valiancy, appertained. They found the place where he had lain long all bleeding and bloody, which also was covered with many little pieces of his Harness: which moved the Youth to such compassion, that being attainted in heart with an insupportable dolour and distress which suddenly at the sight thereof surprised him, it lacked little that he had not then and there fully sounded in the place: and I think that if his magnanimity and hearty valiancy could have given place in greatness and force, to his extreme dolour, he had done it. So sure already had he imprinted the vehement amity that he bore, to that man in his heart, having been in his company, but three or four days: aswell for the prowess and virtue, wherewith he was enriched above all others, as for the singular courtesy and friendship which so shined in them both alike, that they almost seemed both one body, bent to one course of kind. But supporting the most patiently he could, his extreme dole and sorrow, he did as then naught else, but weep and bewail him so lamentably, that dole and sorrow themselves could not surpass him in sighs and tears, which ran like rushing Rivers down his tender Cheeks: which to declare I must take a briefer course: telling only how assoon as he could have any stay of his lamentations, he made vow and swore never to rest in place, climate or country, till he had found out the Knight which had slain him, to revenge his death, although in deed he were shortly after as sound and lusty as ever he was. As you shall hear in the Chapter following.   

How the Giant Ergoferant who was gone to seek the knight unknown, to revenge the death of Pharisor, finding him in place where he was left in a Trance, after the Combat, took and carried him unto the emperors court, where he was healed of his wounds, by the excellent Chirurgeon Master Rabalon: whereof the Damozelles Dynamia and Amydree, were much joyous, and the Lady Porphyria, somewhat consolated. And how the Youth of the Fairies arrived in a village, where he had tidings of the unknown Knight, who bore his Arms and had his Horse.  
¶ The. xviij. Chapter.  
THe slow arrival of the Youth of the Fairies towards the place where the cruel and dangerous Combat had been between the two good Knights unknown, and Pharisor: was occasion and let, that he found him not as he had thought to have done, and that because it was very long ere he could arrive at the place, where he was left for dead, through the abundance of blood, which he had lost being so wounded in the Combat. For a while afore, the good Giant Ergoferant, (who was gone to seek for the unknown knight, to revenge his death, going through the Forest heard him: who revived from sound, and yet lying on the Grass, not able to arise complained, and lamented, right dolourously, for his dear friend and fellow the Youth of the Fairies: and going where he was, yet not thinking it to have been him, he found him in so pitiful & miserable an estate, that if then presently he had not had succour, he must have yielded up the Ghost: not so much for the grievousness of his wounds, which were not mortal, as for the irk somnes he had of his friends absence, whom he thought to have fled (of purpose) to leave him, as despising his company. But the good Giant not without great marvel of so good a reencounter, took him up softly between his arms, and as one wondrous strong, carried him easily towards the Town of Constantinople, not without telling him along by the way, the sorrow and dole wherein he had left his sister Dinamya, with the Empress and her damozels, and consequently all the emperors Court, because of his death, which they had heard by the self same Knight, who so had wounded him: demanding him in like manner the cause of their combating, which he told unto him at large: until such time as approaching near to a certain village which was but five or fix furlongs from the City, the night (also) approaching, they were constrained to retire into a certain Inn, where the were honestly and honourably entertained by the Host of the house: who knew the Giant and the Knight also to be of the emperors Court: and there were some Salves and Plasters laid to the wounds of Pharisor, by a certain Chirurgeon which dwelled in that Town, which notwithstanding, when they arrived, the Morrow after at Constantinople, were taken away by Master Rabalon: who putting in their place precious ointments, whereof he had always store, he did so well, that to the great contentment of the Emperor, Empress, and Dynamia, with all the other Knights, Dames, and damozels, he recetued his perfect health in the space of five days. And for this cause though the renovation of an unspeakable joy, the thick Mist of forepast sorrows, which afore had holden their hearts with infinite number of Anguishes and Tears, remained, as vanished and dissolved, especially with Dynamia. Who having recovered the object of her grief, was reduced into her pristine form of joy and felicity, contrary to the Lady Prrphyria: who seeing herself deprived of him, who on her had fatally fixed his fancy, not able to give any releasement to her Passions and grievous malady, what comfort or consolation soever, either the Emperor or Empress gave unto her, bringing her in mind of her Cosines return: the fear and suspicion of whose death was cause of her Malady, as they deemed, and therefore should now 'cause (their opinion being false and vain) her sinal recovery of health. But being wholly ignorant where the Thorn pricked her, they could no ways work, but that she waxing still worse and worse, hastened still towards the black Stygian Lake, had it not been for the comfort which the Damozelles Marcelia and Harderine, (who knowing the full occasion thereof) recomforted her with the hope they had that his Death was no less true than Pharisors': and that the unknown knight which had caused those novels, had not done it, but only to brag and boast himself thereof, or else to cover the dishonour he had gotten at the justs, whereat she was somewhat released of pain: yet not able altogether to leave her Fever and become whole and sound. In this wise remained the poor languishing Princess full of sorrow, and pain, for the love of him, who being no less grieved through the equality of their Disease, if he had known their affections and alterations of the Spirit to be reciprocate, rather than to live in continual thought and anguish, as afterwards he did, he would otherwise and sooner have put himself in endeavour, to salve and pacify this amorous wound, which so pained them. But as one (who thought himself so unfortunate and smally favoured of love, that he thought him to have made their wounds quite contrary, and otherwise then they were) could never be in any place, but that, thinking on his estate and new love, he entered into deadly despair of hope ever to attain the Tip of his desire. In such wise, that where he than was, to wit in the Forest (where we left him seeking the unknown Knight, to revenge the death of his dear friend Pharisor, accompanied with his Squire Geliaste) he so converted the care he had of finding him into cogitations and contemplations of her passing beauty, whom above all others he praised and esteemed, that in steed of holding the right way out of the Forest, to find a place to embarcke himself, and go into some strange Country, he came towards Constantinople which he thought to be most far of: whereof the Squire advised, who was somewhat more jocund, than the day before, asked him, whether he would, or if he thought to find his Enemy in the City, from whence the day before he had sworn to separate himself a far of, so to shun the dangerous heat of the Fire, ●…gence to overtake him (as ye say ye will) I am sure that between this and that place, you may do it easily. But seeing it is now late, I counsel you to go and take your rest for this Night, that to Morrow you may bring to pass your pretended purpose as luckily as I would wish you. After the man of the House had made this promise to the Youth to set him in the ready way wherein he might overtake the knight, of whom he thought himself more injuried than he was, to th'intent he might arise betimes in the Morning, he went thereupon straightways to sleep in a fair bed, which the Host had purposely prepared for him, where we let him rest (for change of matter) till the next morrow.   

How Grandowyne King of Hybernia and Cornwall, Uncle to the Nigromantian Mynofoll, addressed a great and puissant Army ro revenge the death of his two Children Mawgarde and Vaspazell, whom King Floridamant had slain: And how going towards London, he was encountered by a little Flete of christians, the Captain whereof were the Princes Ferrand of Norway, & Grandilaor of Swethland, which came to give the onset on the paynim: with whom they joined Battle in such sort, that many there died.  
¶ The xix. Chapter.  
Forasmuch (noble Lords and Ladies) as I am sure you are not ignorant, that as there is no meat, what sweet or delicate taste so ever it have, were it Ambrosia itself, the food of the Gods, (as Poetes feign) which with too long usage seemeth not to us yrkesom and unsavoury: In like manner believe I, that there is no discourse or History, be it never so sweet or delectable, but being too long continued without intermission or success of some change or other novel chance: which (as it were a new kind of meat) may be agreeable to the hearer's ears, or delight of the readers, may be dulsome or pleasant unto you. For this cause knowing that which I will recite unto you in these Chapters following, shall be no less delectable unto you, nor smell worse to your contentations, than the valiauncies of the Youth of the Fairies, from whence we wander a little, to bring him in hereafter with more pleasure, delectation and astonishment of haughty feats of Arms, than you have heretofore heard, if you have the patience I dame you to have: hoping that the generosity and singular bounty of your spirits, will not refuse to hold on to read this mine History, set forth and put in light: both for great pleasure and profit, that you may have therein. I will as now therefore recount unto you, (albeit briefly and succinctly as is possible, that which chanced and happened to the valiant and invincible King Floridamant of great Britain, and chiefly in the self same time that his Son the Youth of the Fairies was in Gréece in pursuit of the unmatcheable and valiant unknown Knight, according to the verity of the Commentaries of our ancient Galarx, which in the same manner also maketh thereof mention. You aught therefore to know, that after the deliverance of this illustrious Lord from the Traitor Minofols Enchanted prisons, as in the Chapters precedent I have most briefly declared unto you: after he was arrived into his country (as is aforesaid) he went into the green I'll with a great Host of armed men, and so dispeopled it and destroyed all the Towns and brave buildings, that there were not left alive any of the race or house of the traitorous Enchanter: who being apprehended, was also put to the point of the Sword: amongst whom also was slain two Children of the Kings of Cornwall, Uncle to the Traitor Minofoll, the one of whom (if ye mark it well) was slain by the King Floridamant, at the same time that the Damozell (which afterward was hanged on a Tree, led him traitorously into the Prison of the read Castle, as you have heretofore heard: and then when his Horse failed him in the Forest, when he had heard the cry of the Damozell complaining, he encountered him by chance, as he was going to London to work some treason: and this same was called Mawgard. The other was then slain in the green Isle (where he was Lord and Master through the death of his Cousin) by the Prince Hubart of Scotland, against whom he would have defended himself: and this had to name Vaspazell the proud: whereat the King of Cornwall, being vexed without measure, having heard so doleful News, and angry at king Floridamant more than afore, although he long had borne him mortal hate, determined & resolved now to revenge the death of his two Sons, with the destruction of those of his kin. And to do this (as one that was rich both in substance and friends, & of alliance to great Lords and Princes, and who also was stout of person & valiant as was possible, he sent Ambassadors to his Friends on all sides: and chief to two Sons which he had yet left: one of the which, was king of Corpse, named Angrofolt the Cruel, who failed not to come to revenge the death of his Brethrens and Parents, with a Navy of a hundred and four score Ships, and sixty Galleys well furnished: wherein he brought about thirty thousand footmen, and ten thousand horsemen brave, and in good order: and moreover he brought with these, Syxe Giants, the greatest and biggest that ever were seen since the memory of man: who only served him for men of Arms, to guard his person: yea with them was he better guarded, than any other King, although he had six hundred horsemen in his company. And for this cause was he of his Neighbours and borderers so renowned & feared, that none (were he never so puissant) durst once offer to do him the lest injury in the world, although for his great cruelty and tyranny to his neighbours, many had just cause so to do. And besides this, he was so valiant of his person, that few there were at that time in the world, which in corporal force, dexterity and skill in Arms, might or could surpass him: for through his valiancy and prowess, he had with a small power, brought under his obeisance, the isle of Corpse, and having expelled king Pollinestor, who had married King Belligent his Sister of Gaul, who was true possessor and owner of the said Island, he married perforce a daughter of his, so to cover his tyranny, & to insinuate himself the better into the people's grace and favour: of the most part whereof (as one favoured and loved) he was King peaceably, as a Rich and Mighty Lord. Yet nevertheless, not like his other younger brother, who by his grand force and extreme prowess, was become King of the Isles Fortunate, which are beyond the furthest parts of Mauritayne westward, and are at this day called Canaries, because they abound in Dogs of all sorts. This same king called Brandissant, who in valour and prowess exceeded far all other knights, having hard the pitiful tidings, which king Grandowyne his Father had sent him, of the death of his Brethrens Mawgard and Vaspazel,, which were slain by king Floridamant, incited with an extreme prick of revengement, stayed but a while after his brother: but went with an Army of an hundred thousand footmen, and four & twenty thousand horsemen, to invade great Britain, whith such a fury, that in every place where he passed or came, there was no Town, Castle nor House, were it never so great, which was not by him destroyed, yea to the first foundation: neither men, women, nor little Infants were there, whatsoever, that could escape the piercing blades of his Gensdarmes and Soldiers: who all the way as they went, made both Earth and Water tremble at there presence: such havoc made they, deeming all their own already. For the said Brand●ssant king of Canaries, had with him four puissant kings, Paynims, his Vassals, which all were Brethrens and the most strong and monstrous that ever Nature bred. For first of all, the youngest of them, which was king of Ombrione named Sallazart, was so strong and puissant, that in close Camp, he once slew four huge Giants, and a Monster which was engendered by one of those Giants, called Astigard: The Effigy of whom he bore Pictured in his shield, all murdered by his hands in a field of Synople: having the rest of his furniture and harness wrought and polished the gallantest that might be seen, and mounted upon a brave Courser of Araby, which ran like Swallow, swift in flight: This fellow seemed (being thus armed) the bravest knight in the world. Although in deed he was the most deformed and foulest that could be.  
For first, he was so great, that he by half exceeded the vulgar and common proportion of other men: his hairs of his head as black as a coal: neither was his Face any whit fairer: wherein were two eyes that shining as well by night as by day, would have made the stoutest afraid: having his brows a foot of good measure broad. The Nose a span long or more, the Mouth stretching to his Ears, which with length lay on his Shoulders, like a Bloodhound. And moreover he had two long Tusks or Teeth, sharp as a Pike, which reached fully half a Foot out of his Mouth: his Chin was like the rest, whereon appeared no more hair then on a Cow tail: for like a stinking Goat he had it hanging to his girdle stead. As for the rest, he was the finest Youth of the world: but that he was great Bealied, and big Shouldered, carrying a Mountain (as it were) upon his back. Notwithstanding this he was so valiant, that there were few, not not one (but King Brandissant) which in aught that appertained to corporal force, or warlike affairs, were like unto him, as you shall more understand hereafter. Consequently his brother Zorlot King of the isle Nivaria, which was no less fair than Salazard, was mighty and strong, that with one blow of his Lance, (in a certain Battle) he slew thirty Cantabrians. And no worse (to make short) were the kings of the Isles Innoves their brethren, Cambarel and Phagotrof, which had in their Band about thirty thousand men, both for foot and Horse. And so this Thundering warrior Brandissant being thus appointed, in a marvelous brave array, and equipage, passed into Great Britain, there wasting and destroying all, till they came to the Country of Cornwall, where he found his father Grandowine, which for his part did his devour, to gather men from all parts of his Dominions, to revenge the death of his two sons. In whose company was Agrafolt, King of Cantabria, Marton and Barant King of the isle of Caribe, who a while afore was arrived with great puissance of men, to help King Grandowyne: whose joys I can not well tell you, when he saw his son Brandissant come to secure him, with such a multitude of valiant Soldiers and Gensdarmes: and chiefly when he told him, of the great waste which he had made coming through Great Britain. Assuring you, sir (said he) that had it not been for the desire I had to see you, and my brother Agrafolt, with all these good Lords, and some others, who by me requested, promised, sance fail, to come shortly to secure you, this wretched King of great Britain had not had by this time either Castle or Town to defend himself in. I trust good Son (said King Grandowyne) that we shall be there time enough by the help of the Gods, to disherit and ruinated him both with the'ffusion of his own blood, and also of all those who shall be so hardy as to make to us any resistance. And I swear by all our gods, that if he be (as I hope he shall) once taken by us, I will make him die a worse death than ever that cruel Tyrant of the Agrigentines, Phalaris did, or could imagine to vex and torment his people: neither shall that glutton Dorian of Spaigne escape with less reward, who at all assays is his aider and fellow. For it behoveth us to put all his Realm to Fire and Sword, if we were once dispatched of this Floridamant here, which shall be shortly as I hope. And that Ferrand also king of Norway, who is his Vassalle: neither him of Denmark, nor that other of Swethlande which will secure him, shall also escape our sharp and trenchant Blades. Truly my Liege (than said Agrofolt the cruel) if once we might exterminate all these: it is expedient for us also to destroy that old Tyrant of Gaul: for he maintaineth that glutton Palistenor, my Godfather, who hoping of his aid, menaceth to expel me out of my Realm: saying that by right it is his. Give me leave on my behalf (said wicked Marton King of Cantabria) for as for my part I hold myself assured, that that presumptuous King of Spain, which so often sendeth Pirates & Robbers into my Domimous (who do me more annoys, than one would think) shall not have long continuance, neither shall he against us work any great resistance. For one night will I give him such Alarm, pursuing him upon the Spurs so near, that neither he nor none of his shall have any leisure to flee & save themselves. Assuredly that shall do very well, Sir Marton, said thee (fierce King Barant of Caribe: for than may you Crown yourself King of all spain, and Sir Grandowyne king of great Britain. Also good Prince Agrofolt shall have the Realm of Gaul for his part, and you) said Brandissant which are a most puissant Lord with king Salazard, Zortor, and Phagotroffe shall have the Realms of Scotland, Norway Swethlande and Denmark. But the Prince Cambarell and I, will then go to Constantinople, where we will make ourselves Lords. Thus these Prodigious Monsters of Nature, spoke and talked amongst themselves, being assembled in king Grandowynes Palace of cornwall having more confidence in the force and puissance of their bodies (which in no wise lacked) then in the Divine providence, without which no humane enterprise can ever come to good issue. And I can assure you, that if the sovereign creator and governor of all things, had not by his infinite bounty and goodness, preserved and sustained the part of the noble and valiant Christian Princes, they had then been in danger to have lost their lives and to have their Realms and poor Subjects destroyed, undoubtedly. For these cursed Paynims were the most puissant and valiantest personages, that ever History made mention of, and had with them more than two hundred thousand footmen, & a hundred thousand brave knights, besides the Giants which I told you of, whose only force was able for a whole Army: and there were the strong Brunissant, Angrofolt, Salazard, and his brethren, which had either their Bodies or Harness in such wise enchanted, that neither Iron nor Steel could pierce or hurt them: and there with endued with such force, that nothing was able to abide it. And to increase their number also, came there a while after to their help king Tawladas the worthy knight of the isle of Canada, and fierce Guydard of Baccaleos, with either of them an Army of more than thirty thousand fighting men, mounted on mighty Horses and Elephants which carried every one five or six men well furnished with shot in the little Castles of wood, which that had upon their backs: which two in force and prowess were nothing less than Brunissant & Sallazard, whose alliance and confederauncie to have, they came to this match, and also to try the force and valiancy of king Floridamant and his British knights, whether they were correspondent to the fame that went upon them or nay.  
And on this wise this puissant army being assembled in Corn wail, and the Country thereabouts, they made not long delay, but embarked themselves to pass into great Britain: and in what magnificent order you shall understand. First there went before, eighty great Galleys wandering on the main Sea with Sealecloathes spread, and abundance of Dares, marching like a tempest: neither met they any vessel on the Seas, whatsoever, but they drowned it: and they went ten and ten in a Rank Quadrangle wise, and not one swifter any whit than another. Also there were fifteen great Carracks, which went before the Galleys about a mile or less: and at every side of the Quadrangle Galley fleet, was also ten, wherein were the Cantabrians, who at this day are called Biskaynes, a People near to Spain, who were conducted thither by their King Marton, which in Sea matters was most skilful, and was ordained Admiral general, of all the Army by the other kings apoyntmentes: from whom he was separated, and came in a Galley, which marched alone amongst the foresaid fleet, and a great Troop of Foystes, Boats and Brigandines, which in number amounted to more than six score, which followed after: which Galley exceeded all the rest in bigness, in beauty & in brave array: for the men of the same were all arrayed in Cassocks and Bonnets of Velvet, half green & half blue, rowing the Dares: to every one of which (being fifty on a side painted all read) there were ten set, all tied by the Legs with great Chains of silver. And moreover the coverture of the place where was Martons Chamber, was also all of Silver, wrought with spangles and leaves of Gold, and Azure most rich & sumptuous, on the top whereof appeared a mighty shaking Ensign, wherein was painted a great. Sea Monster, much resembling a Crocodile all mailed with Scales of green, and the Ensign was blue: about the which was written in Golden Letters this same Verse or saying, Upon the Seas I all destroy: for none I meet may me annoy. And a little lower was written Marton, the Terror of the Waves: neither was there place in all this Galley aswell upon the Hatches, as Ropes and cords which held the Mast: but that there was such a like Ensign (either little or great) tied, to every one of which was fastened an infinite number of Cimbales, and Silver Bells, which shaken with the Wind, yielded a marvelous sweet harmony.  
After this magnificent Galley, that went without either rule or certain order, dispersed here and there about the wings of the Sea fleet, these foresaid six and twenty Foists, Galliottes, Galleons, and Brigantines: In the greatest of the which Foists, were the kings Tauladas of Canada, and Guytard of Baccaleos, with their Horsemen, and the elephants which they had brought, being in thirty great Ships, which followed after marvelously well ordered, with sail displayed, & top and top gallant brave to behold: wherein was a great noise of Drums, Fites, Trumpets, and other instruments of War, solemn & hideous to behold. Finally, after all these foresaid vessels, came a Fleet of two hundred Ships or more, and some Barks, which marched all in order triangled, in forefront of the which, there's was one Ship, far greater and fairer than the rest, which cut the Seas with such celerity and swiftness, as was possible to behold: and therein were king Grandowine, Angraforte, Brunissant, Barant, Salazard, Zorlot and their brethren Cambarel and Phagatroffe, which hastened to advertise king Marton, to take order how to draw a little sideward, to assail a certain Fleet of ships, which they had descried in the main sea, going straight to great Britain there to take Haven, and so to make them captives, if they would not yield to be on his part. But as they were thus busied to give order hereunto, and to set their things in a readiness, behold they were all astonished on the sudden, by the Carracks, & Galleys which went still before, of whom they were met, & the folks therein assaulted, & many put to death by an other their Fleet (which came a bywaie with a marvelous celerity) whose number was about fifty five, or sixty brave Ships of War: which fiercely entering here and there aundde the great troop of Galleys (whereof they overthrew and burned many with Fires artificial, and other Instruments of War) they made at the first a marvelous Martyrdom of the accursed paynim therein. For they were not a whit afraid of this encounter: which thing the Admiral Marton seeing, caused incontinently his great Galley to prepare herself with diligence, to come and aid at this pinch, & also a number of the Foists & Brigandines which came after: all which with speed hastened to assault the little fleet. When the captain of the same, (foreseeing what danger he was in) would feign have retired and fled, but that the other fleet, who (as I said before, was first discovered of Paynims, joined powers thereto: and so recuiling and mustering somewhat together, they behaved themselves so well, that more than twenty of the Paynims Foystes and Galleys were sounke and burned. For in the Ship which was Admiralle, there were two brave Knights, which commanded all the Army: who set in array with their sword in their hands, and brazen shields priest for their better defence, raged in their enterprise, and with fury coloured the belly of the Goddess Thetis, with the blood of those accursed paynim. Nay, they caught none, but they sent him to seek himself in the bottom of the waves, where he might drink his last, or else to taste of death on the Hatches: which thing the valiant King Marton seeing (who raged to see so many of his men slain by two knights) addressed his Galley that way, & joining with one of the Knights, who bore in his shield a Dragon of Azure, in a field of Sables, for cognizance, was there the most dangerous Skirmish between them that ever was heard of. For King Marton (who was exceeding strong) thinking with his fierce looks to have frayed and made flee those two doughty Captains, was much astonished when he found himself so matched with the one, that in all his life he never had been so troubled, in so much that he thought there to have lost his life presently: such were the blows which he received at the knights hands of the Dragon, that had it not been for the enchanted Helmet which he bear, it had been doubtful whether he should have returned sound as he did. But because he was armed with Harness wholly so enchanted, that neither sword nor other weapon whatsoever, could pierce or cut, he resisted well more, than an hour against his adversary, who also defended himself valiantly as (God knows) he had need: for both of them were strong, valiant and skilful in Arms. True it is, that if King Marton exceeded him somewhat in force, he again counterueiled it in agility and nimbleness of body, and in craft of Skirmishing, as well appeared by him in this mutual combat. But the other to counterueile all that, gave him now and then such green atteintes, that the read blood began already in some places to run down his body: but for all that, never made he any semblance of grief, to condemn himself of Cowardyse. But as the Bear and the wild Boar being envenomed one against another, strive still with rage to pull each other in pieces: so these two valiant Champions did all their powers to deprive each other of life, although the one had small advantage of the other: which made them marvel much of their own prowesses, still paying each other as the Smith with an heavy Hammer doth his Anuild often: and as the one his Harness, so did the other's nimbleness keep them both alive long  
And thus endured the Combat a great while, during which, the Knight of the Dragon his fellow rushed in amongst the Paynims (of whom he made a marvelous buttherie and slaughter) and with his meinie behaved himself so well, that many were slain, and a multitude drowned, neither coaped he with any, but he lost either Leg, Arm, shoulder, Neck, or some part of his body, always having a sovereign care to save his own Ships notwithstanding: whereunto after a while all his men reentered by his commandment. For seeing the rest of the adversaries Vessels at hand, which King Grandowyne and his two Sons led (whom if they had tarried, they had been all discomfited) they hoist up sails, and moved Dares to depart with all speed, contenting themselves with the honour which they had gotten in resisting so many with so small a power, to the great damage and ruin of their Enemies, and yet losing a very few of their own party: neither any vessel, but that wherein was the knight of the Dragon, who whiles his men prepared themselves to gain the North, kept Marton play still: to whom (seeing then ready to depart) he gave such ablowe with his Sword on the head, that he made him fall on his knees, so astonished, that he knew not where he was: and then taking a little Boat, which was swiftly furnished with Sails and Mariners, he retired with the rest of his Army away from his adversaries, leaving them aggrieved at this encountry: who not knowing how to be revenged, set fire on that great ship, whom he had left them. For as it was better, they thought it good rather to retire with that gotten victory, then with danger to attend the coming of the rest of the Army, to their great overthrow and confusion: a thing rather to be reputed rashness of them, than hardiness.  
Although the Paynims thought verily to have gotten the honour through their flight. Who taking their voyage toward great Britain, took port a while after, at the City of London, where as then lay the good King Floridamant: who with a great Troop of his Barons and Lords went to welcome those two valiant Knights, which so had used the Paynims: whom he a far of knew (by the ensigns hanged on the Masts of their ships) to be the valiant King Ferrande of Norway, and worthy Grandilaor, his nephew, whom not long afore Floridamant had made crowned King of Swethelande, at the disease of Antizilianas' Father, whom he had married, who were come from their kingdoms, sent for by King Floridamant, in order as is afore said, to give him secure. For you must note, that the Noble king of great Britain being certified of the waste and injury which king Brandissant had made, in going through his Realm, perceived well that he went toward his Father the king of cornwall, who prepared against him a mighty Host, to revenge the death of his two other Children, whom he had put to death. And being advertised of the great force and puissance wherewith he came against him. And doubting himself not able to resist so great an Army had sent Ambassadors on all sides to the kings his Neighbours, to desire their aid, and chief to these two his Subjects, who failed not herein to come: And by the way knowing that the Paynims were not far from them, they had parted their Army in two, to embushe and assail them (as you have afore heard) to their great ruin and decay. Who a while after them, came to take Land before the City of London: from whence after a long and a sharp Combat, they were expulsed and driven back, and so constrained to cast Ancour elsewhere, about a Mile from the City, where Maugre the Christians they descended: as I mean to show you in the first Chapter of my next book, God willing, with the rest of their Battles and discomfitures.  
But as now you must accord to grant me some rest, to the end that with more grace and excellency I may recount it unto you, than I have done any thing heretofor. For my Head now is amazed, my Pen worn, and my Hand so benomnie,  
That if I have not now some rest:  
I never can at chive the rest.   

The Pagans' having laid siege to the City of London, determined with one consent, to root out all Christians universally: and for the winning of the City, they elected the Kings Guitarde of Baccaleos and Angrofolt, who took with him the two mighty Giants Brizard, and Rogemont: and with main force entered into the City, where Guytard, bearded by King Floridamant, was forced to retire back in more haste than he had entered, not without the slaughter of all his people: whereupon Angrofolt being encontered by King Floridamant, after Combat enduring a long season, was taken Prisoner, with the stout Saracen Micophron.  
The. xx. Chapter.  
NOw (my noble Lords, and favourable Dames) since that my spirits have reposed themselves, and the instruments of my speech are recreated, even as of your favours ye have deigned, I intend in prosecuting my purpose, to recount unto you the residue, as yet unrehearsed, whereunto I crave your attentive ears: For so much as I am assured, that in the rehearsal thereof, your minds shall receive singular contentation, even as my studies are bend to guide you into the possession of such passing delights, as ensue. Mention was partly made afore, how after that the Pagans': who at their first landing would have entered, and harboured their Navy directly against the City of London, by the valour of the Kings Floridamant, Ferrand of Norway, and Grandilaor the hardy, and by the courage of the valiant Knights resiant and sojourning there, no less manfully, then bloodily beaten back: bloodily I say, for that with great slaughter and occision of their people, they were enforced to take landing at an other place difficult and untoward enough, lying more than a Mile distant from the City: where immediately upon their arrival, without any stop or impediment (because the Inhabitants of the City perceived themselves not of sufficient force to pursue or assail them any further) they descended from their Vessels, and went a Land, with a great noise and Tintinare of trumpets, Shawms, Drums, mischiefs, and other like melodious Instruments of War: at sound whereof, the Pagans' that first took Land, did naught else but dance and triumph jollily, which bravery of theirs endured but for a short season. For presently after that the kings Grandowin, Angrafolt, Brandissant, and the rest with their Soldiers and all their train, whom they had conducted to assault the City of London (which they imagined to take within three or four days at the most) were descended from their Ships, they marched on: meaning to encamp in a fair and very wide plain, which as then was situate not far from the City. In the midst whereof, a man might have seen the stately and magnificent Pavilions of the mighty Heathenish Kings, and the others, which resembled an high Grove, environed with a multitude of lopt Trees, among which there was erected one, far surmounting all the rest in length and breadth, which served the use of these kings, in steed of an huge Halle, to consult and deliberate, touching their affairs: the same as a sumptuous and brave Castle with Towers, was hemmed in with Pavilions of the Kings Angrafolt, and Brandissant, on both sides: whereunto did closely adjoin on the one part, to the lodging of Brandissant, the Pavilions of king Salazard, Zorlot, Cambarel, and Phagotrof: on the other appeared the lodgings richly beseen, of the puissant Tauladas king of Canada, and Guitarde lord of the isle of Baccaleos, together with those of the old king Grandowin, Barant, and Marton the strong of Cantabrie. All which on the morrow, as soon as their whole train and furniture, were set in order, failed not to assemble themselves in the great Pavilion, to take deliberation and advise, what were best to be done, where unto all the principal knights, that is to say, Dukes, earls, and Barons were called, of whom there was a great number. The old king Grandowin, for that by occasion of him the assembly was made, sitting on the highest Seat of all, which was very sumptuously prepared and adorned, having his two Sons Angrafolt on the right, and Brandissant on the left hand, and all the other kings, with Lords of great power, stout and brave knights, above six hundred, began to speak unto them in this manner.  
Most mighty, and excellent Kings, Princes, Dukes, earls, Barons, and knights, if the grievous sorrow, and extreme heaviness, wherewith, through the remembrance of the loss and death of my two Sons, my heart is burdened and tormented, had stirred up my courage alone, with an inflamed desire to take such strange and dreadful vengeance as uneath hath been heard of, upon the murderer of them, and of the chief part of my lineage: certes I would have had no slender regard, as one loath to seem importunate upon your Majesties, excellencies, & honours, in requiring your aids, and succours in this enterprise: well weighing that my merit to you wards, is of no such consequence, that of so many mighty Lords, as in this assembly are present, to offer and adventure their goods and lives, upon the hazard of Fortune, and of death also, should employ themselves in this attempt for my sake: seeing that for the accomplishment of the same, I myself am of power sufficience, with the aid of these my two sons, who are no less bound to take vehement indignation, at the shedding of their blood and mine, than mine own self. But sith the case so stands, that the devotion of the Gods, and the desire to augment our Law and Religion, aught to embolden and inspire our courages, with an unaccustomed valiancy, and provoke our stomachs with bloody rage, not only to bring to utter ruin, the most traitorous and mischievous tyrant, that ever did wear Crown, him I mean of Great Britain, but also wholly to extermine and root out this cursed offspring of Christians, who in comparison of us, that hold in subjection, Asia, afric, and the greater part of Europe, are but an handful: and yet if we suffer them to reign in peace, they may receive such increase, that (as it happeneth not seldom, the lesser augment, and the greater decrease) in conclusion they may dispossess, and deprive us of our Countries, and Dominions▪ the Inhabitants whereof, to the great dishonour of our God Mahomet, they will infect with the contagion of their false belief, to our singular damage, and confusion of our Successors For which cause, perceiving that the destruction of this accursed king Floridamant of Great Britain, who is one of their props and pillars of their Faith, is an act in mine opinion, very necessary for me to achieve, it seems also to be a very good and easy entrance, by means of your assistance, into the residue of our exploits remaining behind, that is by our prowess, to deface and abolish the universal race, and cable of Christians: whose wealth and signiories, we may afterwards divide among ourselves, as in our judgements shall seem reasonable. Behold, ye noble wights, the chief occasion that hath moved me to assemble so many powers at one instant, borrowing also your aids, the which as I think should encourage you much more, chen if the enterprise were only attempted in my behalf: considering that it concerneth and toucheth you well nigh, so much as myself. Wherefore, this is mine advise, that we prosecute earnestly our enterprise undertaken, and begun: since that we are here ready to put the same in execution, do ply the Iron whiles it is hot, and that without delay, if you judge it best to enter forcibly, or by other practises into the city, which in respect of the goodly buildings and monuments thereof, we will neither burn nor raze, but it shall suffice that we only put to the edge of the Sword all the people, which we shall find within the same, as well the small, as great, both Women and Children, murdering and staing them in such sort, that there shall not rest one to carry tidings: and to him that can take the king Floridamant alive, and him deliver into our hands to be done to vile and ignominious death, we promise' to give in am of his desert two thousand Talentes, and so to advance his estate, that he may account himself a fortunate person: but the Dames and Gentlewomen, such as are endowed with singular beauty shall be saved, to serve for our share, and to be disposed after our liking.  
Immediately after this Saracen had belched out these words out of his malicious mouth, and stinking stomach, all the other Pagan kings said with one voice, that he had spoken passing well, and that it behoved him to deliberate forthwith, to which of them the charge of scaling the walls, and entering the city should be committed: with whom should an hundred thousand footmen accompaignie, to make short work in the assault, and to open the gates the sooner, that the kings and knights remaining without the walls, might enter at their ease without resistance. And after the matter was throughlie ranuased among them, the puissant king Guitard of Baccaleos was appointed to undertake the charge. Whereat Angrafolt was greatly aggrieved, because he especially desired to have been the first, that should have entered the City, to the intent he might violate, and deflower the fair Lady Polydamie: of whose beauty (albeit she had not attained to the age of forty years) he had heard such exceeding commendations, that her match was never seen in any Heathenish laud. And as the valiant king Guitard was in preparing, and ordering the army under his conduct, for the accomplishing of his infortunate attempt, he spoke these words in effect, to the Painime kings. who had chosen Guitard for the taking of the City:  
My Lords (ꝙ he) for so much as king Guitard, of whose prowess and bounty I doubt not, may not without great labour and travail, achieve the mighty charge given to him, because that (as I believe there is none of you thereof ignorant) they with whom we have to deal (I mean these knights of Great Britain, with whom this City in great number is furnished, as you might understand, when of late we purposed to have taken land) are such, as there are very few knights in the world, of greater prowess and valiancy than they are: it therefore seemeth unto me (submitting always myself to better counsel) that as well for the supportation of the said Lord of Baccaleos, as also for the speedy dispatch of that we have consulted upon, we aught to elect some other amongst us to assist him: and if you think good that myself be he, the charge I will undertake with a good will, and the reason that month me to be so desirous to deal therein, I will tell you in brief.  
This night passed, as I sound slept, me thought. I was entered into the City, and made great cheer and feasting with king Floridamant, and the twelve courageous knights of his house: dreaming (as me seemed) that you pressed into thee, Hall and then as many as could, leapt out at the Windows: the residue were by you cut in pieces, whereupon I awaked: This Dream animateth me, and hath caused me to conceive a strong imagination, that the events shall so fall out: notwithstanding there be some which say, that dreams are but illusions & mockeries. For it hath been in my hearing oftentimes affirmed, that great Princes have dreamt of things that afterward have happened: but the Dreams of mean people are naught else but vanities, because our Gods pass not greatly for them, neither do reveal to them the foreshewinges of chances to come: but the apparitions that great Kings do conceive, are of an other sort, & I am assured that not without some vehement foretelling of that which shall fortune, the God Mahometh, hath made me dream of these matters. The other Kings perceiving by the tale of the cruel Angrofolt, how greatly he coveted and longed to fight, graunced to his demand without denial, howbeit the mighty King Tauladas of Canadas was somewhat discontented thereat, mistrusting in his conceit, that one of those two stern warriors would without peradventure, dispatch King Floridamant of his life, whereas he himself upon no other occasion, then how he might have trial of the renowned prowess of the said King, did so soon intermeddle in the same war: but for that he needed not to have taken thought: for in dealing with king Floridamant, both he and his complices also were like to have their hands full.  
While the affairs among the Pagans' stood in these terms, there entered secretly into their Camp a Spy, whom King Floridamant had purposely sent to mark and learn all the drifts and policies of the enemies: he being disguised, like a Pioneer, so handled the matter, by means of his skilfulness in all Sarazin languages, that he understood the whole sum of their doings afore declared: whereupon he returned into the City unperceived of any, making report thereof, to the noble Floridamant, and other the kings and knights of his Court: who without uttering any sign of doubt, which nevertheless they had closely conceived in their minds, knowing the forces and powers of their enemies to be so great: but rather demeaning their countinaunces correspondent to their haulty hearts, showed themselves to their Soldiers, whom they had mustered out of all parts, both within the City & without: And with a sufficient number of them, marched with all expedition towards those parts of the walls, which sustained the fearcest assault of their enemies: who by the help of infinite corded Ladders, wherewith the crannies of the Walls were on every side pestered, having entered into the City in great multitudes, began already to kill & slay all that came in their way, without any resistance, until the coming of the valiant Prince Floridamant, being accompanied with the kings Ferrand of Norway, Grandilaor of Swethelande, and Murcibell of Denmark, who then was freshly arrived, to the succour of his Lord, with a good number of hardy knights, and men of Arms. All which well mounted, marched together in one Troop against the enemy, guarded on the one side with Duke Candior of Normandy, and his Son Don Sylvan, Earl of Flaunders, who was a very young knight, but well esteemed for Feats of Arms. On the other side were the l●stie Acciall of Surrey, Sir Hewald, the courageous knight Melchior of Ireland, Ramelin, Druic, and Frangard Earl of Durford, who confronting this outrageous multitude of Saracens, murdering the Christians without mercy, charged those Butcherly Dogs, void of all humanity, with such fury, that at that first encounter, happening within a broad place far within the City, you might have seen the Members, as the Arms, Legs, Heads, and breast parts of the Pagans', fly thick in the air like Flies in the Sun shine: which these valiant Knights dismembered in such wise, that those Rakehelles that had begun to make their Bravadoes along the City, were never so astonished in their lives: so that feeling their overlong tarriance, to turn to their hindrance, and seeing their unableness to make any further resistance, they were constrained to return the way they had passed before, and yet they could not behave themselves so well in the retiring, but that three thousand fell down stark dead in the place. Whereof the king of Baccaleos, (as he stood on the walls encouraging his men to climb up apace, being advertised,) descended from thence, and came incontineutly with a trusty band of his stoutest knights, among whom there was one brave Sarazin, of mighty strength, named Micophron, that was his Cousin. As soon as he approoched near the place, and saw what havoc the Christians made of the Pagans', he was almost mad with rage and spite, to see his people so disordered and slain: whom he met sléeing, being chased by the knights above named: and with main force entered into the Crowd on foot as he was, being followed of his people: who viewing his manhood, took heart agrace, laying about them with all their might, in such wise, that if God had not taken compassion upon the poor Christians, there had not one escaped that day: for he encountered nothing in that place, which he did not hew in pieces: next unto him the fierce Sarazin Micophron made such a terrible slaughter and spoil of the poor Christians, that none there were, that durst withstand him, for fear jest they should be sent to their long homes. And assuredly they had overcome the whole City, if that the renowned king Floridamant, the valiant Ferrande of Norway and Don Murcibel of Denmark, (whose strength by God's divine power, I believe was then redoubled) had not in time hasted to the succour of their people. But these noble Princes beholding this miserable spectacle, used wonderful diligence and celerity, and bore themselves so valiantly, that king Floridamant coaping with the king of Baccaleos, Don Ferrand with Mycophron the strong, and Murcibell among the other Pagans', smiting before and behind, and on both sides, compelled them after an hard and sharp conflict, to turn their backs, and show their heels. For king Floridamant surprised with fury, and chafed in fighting, reached king Guitard with all his force, such a violent stroke, that he made his Helmet flee of his head, and had slain him without doubt, if his people had not the more speedily succoured him: but perceiving his head unarmed, he retired hastily to the place from whence he came, having received no other hurt but, that, by the violence of the blow, his eyes so sparkled, that for a quarter of an hour after, he could see very little at all: and it is to be conjectured, that had it not been for the goodness of his Armour, being that, which Achilles did wear, at the battle of Troy, when he slew the valiant Hector, doubtless he had not been left alive: howbeit he was afterward much vexed, yea & ready to run out of his wits, for that part of the Armour which he had lost, having won them from the strong Bagellan, king of Ithaca, by Combat enduring three days continually: which Bagellan received them from his ancestor Ulysses, who after the death of Achilles, was made owner of them.  
But now to go forward in the recital of the rest of this hideous hurlie burlie, between the paynim and the Christians: you shall understand, that after king Guitard with the loss of his armour, was so escaped out of the tumult, mighty Mycophron his cousin, whom he had left behind in the briars, with much ado and difficulty, sustained the brunt of his enemies, being well-nigh overcome by the assailers of him: for he was so roughly charged and pursued, by the three Christian kings, that notwithstanding his manful and courageous defence, he was taken Prisoner. For he had once before brought king Ferrand of Norway, to so hard an exigent, for all his excellent prowess, that he had not long endured against him, had not the kings, Floridamant and Murcibell afforded their aids: who charging the Pagans' as aforesaid, forced him to yield himself prisoner, & in respect of his valiancy, slew him as they did his people, who were entered into the city: of whom he made such havoc, that not one remained unslain, to carry news of the defeating of his fellow soldiers.  
Thus you may perceive how nobly the three Christian Kings in those parts behaved themselves, from midday, till the Sun was well-nigh set: It remaineth that we make rehearsal, what was done on the other side against cruel Angrofolt and those monstrous Giants, Brisard and Rogemont, by the residue of the twelve valiant knights of Great Britain: who being in other quarters of the city, and hearing the noise and Alarm of their enemies, who had made entrance in great multitudes, under conduct of the same Angrofolt, accompanied with these two Giants, marched on in marvelous haste thitherward, being assisted by the more part of the garrisons of the city, with such diligence and dexterity, that the Pagans' being not far entered into the City, were by them compelled to recuyle unto the very walls, not without great loss and slaughter. How as the Giants were entered with Angrofolt their Lord, be seeing the resistance that they of the city made, commanded these two butcherly Giants to secure their men: himself only taking ware to the kings Palace, to seize upon his desired pray: being the Lady Polydamie, who as then kept herself within her Chamber, lamenting and weeping, with noble Queen Belizenne her Mother, who made pitiful moan, meaning her total ruin to be at hand. Now as that cruel tyrant of Corsica approached near the Palace, to his misadventure, he was breasted by the kings Floridamant, Ferrand, and Murcibell: who having happily dispatched themselves of Guitard, bastened to other quarters of the city, where they knew the paynim were entered. For he was no sooner espied, but he was presently charged very rudely, by these three valiant Christian Champion's with dint of Sword: which although he received with great assurance, yet the match unegally made, he could not endure long, but was compelled to tourue his back, flying towards the place where his men fought: but being aghast with the violence of the strokes he had sustained in the encounter, he miss of the right way. Forthwith king Floridamant meaning to pursue him, and to fight with him hand to hand, commanded the kings Ferrand, and Murcibell, to haste them to the aid of his knights, and in the pursuit of the Pagan (as one that was more nimble and active) demeaned himself so well, that in a narrow Lane, where the other rested to breathe himself, he overtook him: who seeing none other to follow save the king, rejoiced greatly, and taking his Sword in his hand, and his Shield on his arm, attended, vaunting on foot to receive the onsett, howbeit to his no small prejudice. For the king closely buckling with him, assailed him with such force and violence, that had not his Enchanted Arms served him at that pinch, he should have been soon dispatched, but by the help of them, he continued the fight more than an hour and an half, wherein such manhood was showed by the assailant and defendant, that it was hard to discern who had the better or worse, till at last two hours after the Battle begun drawing on, the Pagan because of his feebleness and fainenesse, being unable to endure any longer, fell down in a son on the Earth: the King partly taking the advantage, although he was wearied in the Combat, set his foot upon his breast, and having taken of his Helmet, intended to have slain him, when the other who had recovered himself, cried: O Noble King, for God's sake spare my life, and at this instant extend I beseech you, that exceeding mercy and clemency, wherewith I have heard you always renowned: since that by my death you shall not purchase so great honour, having now no means to defend myself. The king the mirror of courtesy & pity, showed himself towards this cruel Tyrant so merciful, that he did him no other harm, save only made him his Prisoner, wherewith the Pagan was partly comforted. The chief conductor of the Pagans', having rendered himself vanquished, was by King Floridamant brought unarmed, to the place where the Christians and Heathen people fiercely fought: so that they issue to what side the victory was more likely to incline, seemed uncertain and doubtful: when as king Floridamant, who made more account of the life of his men, then of the death of a thousand of his foes, on the one side, and Angrafolt his Prisoner on the other side, caused them to surcease. The force of the Heathenish rested principally in Brizard and Rogemont the Giants, who made great spoil and havoc among the Christians, and had taken up and carried away under their Arms (as though they had been Chickens or Capons) four of the courageous Knights of great Britain, to wit Don Acciall of Surrey, & Ramelin of the isle of Wight by Brisard, Melchior of Ireland and the Earl of Durford, by the fell Rogement: who notwithstanding were rendered, and the Pagan's chieftains compelled to retire with those few that remained on live: for of fifty thousand Pagans' that by scaling the walls, had entered: scarce twenty thousand were left one live: and of Christians about fifteen thousand were found dead, as well of Women and Children, as of men of base condition, that with Weapons, Stones, and such like, ran upon their enemies. Howbeit no knight of name was slain, saving the valiant Heroald, who was found among the press almost smothered, and the young Don Sylvan of Flaunders, who had all that day fought against the cruel Giant Rogemont, and by a wound which he received in his Arm, lost so much blood, that if he had not been helped in time, he had been in danger to be lost: but as it fortuned, he suffered no other hurt, save the pain of his wound, which shortly after was cured, as we find in the ancient Commentaries of Gallarx the Historiographer: who for that he surceaseth to entreat any further, touching these affairs between the Pagans' and Britain's, we also will leave of, for a certain time, and turn our talk to the most delighteful and strange adventures of the Youth of the Fairies: showing you only by the way, that the Pagans' having retired themselves for certain days: king Floridamant gave his Prisoner's Angrafolt and Mycophron very sumptuous entertainment, according as he afore had dreamt.   

How the Youth of the Fairies set himself on Sea, to pursue the unknown Knight: where after he had a long season sustained the violence of a terrible Tempest, he discovered a man swimming upon the Plank of a ship, and in danger of drowning, who by him being saved, as they were there discoursing of their adventures, they were assailed by Rovers on the Sea, whom they slew all saving one.  
The. xxi. Chapter.  
THe continual unrest, and perplexity, enwrapping their hearts, whom the blind Archer hath atteinted with his envenomed shafts, not only depriveth them of the sensible taste & release of most dainty Viands, turning their sweetness into bitterness, that it is impossible for them to receive sufficient for the nourishment of their bodies, and conservation of their health, seeing themselves for the most part led with fond conceits & vain imaginations of the beauty of such as in their minds they make their Idols: but also occupying their heads in contemplation of those fantasies, seldom can they take any rest: as by the example of the Youth of the Fairies evidently appeareth. Who during the time that the affairs of great Britain continued in the state afore mentioned in Gréece, spated no pain nor travail, to the intent he might attain to the estimation and renown of a worthy & valiant knight: the better to purchase the good grace & favour of his new Dame, whose excellency in all respects had so ravished his senses, that in the Inn where we left him last, he could neither take repast nor repose. Wherefore assoon as the obscurity of the night began to diminish, seeing neither his mind nor body by concourse of his passionate pangs and amorous cogitations, no disposed to quietness, he leapeth out of bed, notwithstanding the morning was very cloudy & dark: when as his Esquire, who steapte, not knowing with what conceit his master was tickled, likewise left his bed, and making himself ready, failed not forthwith to haste unto the stable, there to saddle and bridle his Horse, and to prepare all other things requisite for his Master when he should take Horse: dispatching the same with such diligence, that nothing lacked when his Master being armed came. Who accompanied with his Host, departed with all speed, to overtake the person which he sought for: traveling so fast, that before the dawning of the day, they arrived at Byzaunce. Where taking leave of his Host, whom he satisfied to his contentation, he embarked himself in a Ship well furnished, whom he found priest to make voyage towards France: for that he having inquired of the unknown knight, the Master of the ship had told him, that the Evening before the same knight had taken Ship in a Bark, of a Companion of his, that sailed thitherward: whereof he was not a little joyful, commanding the Sea man with all expedition, to hoist up the Sails and away: so that they passed along the mean Seas, the space of two days and a night: at the expiration whereof the sailor in the morning, perceiving the sun to appear red of colour, and the winds to blow blusteryngly, altering the calmness of the weather, and stillness of the waves, into a troublesome and tempestuous rage, would have declined out of the determined course, and bent his ship towards a little Island, lying far distant from the ready way into France. The Youth of the Fairies suspecting no less, gave him in charge both earnestly & half displeasantly, that he should sail directly on. For (quoth he) fall back, fall edge, no hap so hard, not, nor fear of death, during the safety of this Vessel, shall enforce me to change my purpose. The discrete sailor knowing the will of the Knight to be constantly settled to abide the uttermost that the wrathful Skies might threaten, or froward fortune procure, as one contented to suffer patiently whatsoever distress it would please the almighty to throw him in, would not gainsay him: for the small experience which so short time could afford him of his worthiness, bounty, & comely qualities, wherewith the Youth was adorned, had persuaded him so to dedicated his mind to please and serve him, that he would in no wise withstand his commandment: howbeit, because he saw the imminent jeopardy of their lives now approaching, for to assay whether by any persuasions he might turn his opinion, he told him that he had perceived certain usual signs, betokening always some mischance and violent tempest, as the high and sudden towering of the Heron: which, Sir (saith he) maketh me to mistrust that with no assailing, but with great danger of our ruin, we may pass any further. Moreover the continual leaping of the Dolphins above water, which I espy, abasheth & warneth me to avoid the perilous outrage of the winds and weather. Wherefore I think it very expedient, that we sojourn in some surer harbour for a season, waiting for the appeasing of the Seas and ceasing of the Tempest: for so much as the same being assuaged, we way dispatch further in a day, than we may during this rage in a month: for in doing of such things, as you know, we must tarry the opportunity of the season. Notwithstanding, sith your pleasure is, that we shall sail on, I will not disobey your will, albeit we shall never (if I be not deceived) accomplish the same without some lamentable accident: advertising you, that if God extend not his mercy to your succour, the end of our days is at hand. Howbeit, for all these words and many a tear beside, which fell from the good Seaman's eyes, who trembled for fear, seeing the Waves like mighty Mountains, offering to overwhelm them, and the Seas ready to swallow up their vessel, yet would not the Youth relent, nor was any whit abashed, saying that either alive or dead, he would pass further. In the mean while the master of the ship turned the Sails towards the Region of France: whereupon the chief wind with such violence rushed against the main mast, that it had like to have overthrown the Vessel: but partly by the timely ceasing of the boisterous blast, partly by the incredible strength of the Youth of the Fairies: who embracing it in his Arms, held it with all his might, from leaning towards the Seas, the ship and all was recovered. Notwithstanding the Tempest surceased not, but continued so cruel and forcible, that it might have been compared to that, wherein the Trojan Chieftain Aeneas, was turmoiled when the wrathful juno (incensed against the remains of Troy) had requested Aeolus, to give to his most fierce winds the reins to torment him. For their vessel was with such outrage tossed to and fro, up and down, and almost upsidedoune, wind shaken and weather beaten, that when I consider of it, I am forced to stand in admiration, wondering how it could escape so horrible a jeopardy without shipwreck: for sometimes the Waves like Mountains lifted them up aloste, making them think that they were in ascending into the Clouds: again the ship falling down between the mighty Waves as it were in a deep valley, made them to dread, jest that Hell were opening to devour them up. So that the Mariners and Passengers abandoning the Tacklinges, began to cry mercy, knowing no other remedy or rescue from such imminent dangers saving prayer unto God, with such an heart, as they possess, who are surprised with the like hazard. Nevertheless the merciless rage of the winds increasing, hail and sharp showers fell abundantly, the Skies were quite overcast, the Air wonderfully darkened, the darkness bereft the Sailors of all light, except it were that which proceeding from the twinkling eyes of the Whales, and Wherlepooles, or else of flashes of lightning, intermeddled among the stormy Rain, and forerunnung most ghastly and hideous Thunder cracks, and terrible Wheriewindes. But yet all these dreadful accidents had no power to abate the noble courage or daunt the stout Stomarke of the worthy and valiant Youth of the Fairies, steadfastly settled in a firm opinion, that all bitterness was sweet, all evil good, and all danger, disease, and travail, to be repose & assured tranquillity in respect of the uncessant, unasswaged and remediless pain, which his restless mind suffered by vehemency of his amorous wound: for albeit he did see the great part of the Mariners, and the residue in the ship, shift out of the same, and commit themselves unto the Shipboate for their safeguard, yet he not once offered to remove himself from thence where he was: neither respecting covert from the brunt of the tempest, nor rejecting the unseasonable weather, but accepting either in like part. Which Tempest towards the evening, when the Vessel had all day run at random, without government, began to cease, and moderate his rage, the importunate winds packing away, and giving place to the comfortable Beams of Dan Phoebus, who as then guided his horse, weary of their days task towards Thetis Waves. Now the Youth, who alone stayed in the Vessel, with his trusty Esquire, that would not forsake him in weal or woe, perceiving the weather to wax clear, gate him out of a Cabin of the Ship, where he had remained during the Tempest, and mounting upon the Hatches, he might espy not far from his Vessel, the half of a ship floating, which the tempest had torn asunder: within the which there was a man almost fainting, and priest to yield his body to the mercy of the Waters, whose Waves had almost overwhelmed him: yet betwixt sinking and swimming, he laboured to lengthen his life, without likelihood of recovery, if an unhoped hap had not reserved him from such distress, lying in the main Seas, deprived of his natural forces, and distant from Land any way twenty Leagues: but as he was in this plight, a gracious gale of wind, did drive the Board whereon he groveled half dead, towards the Youths Vessel: who taking pitiful compassion, with diligent endeavour laboured to save him: sparing not to despoil himself, stark naked to leap into the water, and tying a cord of the Ship about his body, swam to the other man, and attaining unto him, threw him the end of the same Cord, which he stiffly grasped in his numbed hands: this being done, he swam again towards his ship: drawing the other after him with much ado: into the which he mounted, & being tired, lifted up the other being hardly handled and moiled in the salt waters: who being entered, fell down in a sound, vomiting up the water in great abundance, which he had glutted in, at his Nose and Mouth.  
Whereupon the Youth of the Fairies seeing him so fair and so comely a parsonage, and guessing by his countenance that he should be of some good house, employed all diligence possible, for the safe guard of his life, & taking him & lifting his feet upwards, with the help of his Esquire, made them fast to one of the Cables, and hanging his head downwards, he powered out the water into the Sea, which remained in his Stomach: after being recovered from his swoon, he prayed the Youth, that he would untie him, for he felt no more pain, which he delayed not to do, with all expedition, being so glad, as if he had found the Treasure of Croesus, or conquered the Roman Empire, as well for that he longed to understand what he was, as also what fortune had brought him into that distress. Whereof having demanded, the other that was so enfeebled and wearied, by turmoiling in the water, that he could not easily fetch breath, requested him instantly, that he would vouchsafe him some resting place out of hand, and that after he were reposed a while, he would recount unto him his whole case. Then the Youth knowing that he needed the same, and that he uttered his words with much difficulty, commanded his Esquire, that he should lead him to his chamber, and lay him in his own Bed, whereunto he obeyed incontinently: but he was scarce entered, when as the knight seeing the Arms of the Youth, and likewise the Spear that lay by his bed side, stayed for a certain season, without speaking one word, (he was surprised with such astonishment): afterward touruing him towards the Esquire, regarded him heedfully, and remembered that he had seen him not long afore: & forthwith called to mind who he was: howheit without making semblant of any such thing, be began tounaraie himself: and his apparel (whiles he prepared himself to Bed) the Esquire bore into the open air to dry: who failed not to rehearse unto his Master, touching the countenance and behaviour of the man, when as be beheld his Armour. Who being therefore more desirous than he was afore, to know what he was, hied him into the Chamber, to common with the Stranger, whiles that the ship without any Sterneman did run at random: but at the first entrance▪ finding him fast a sleep, he would not awake him as then, until midnight came: when he had rested himself a long season, the Youth (who in the evening was laid down by him, noti disposed to close his eyes all that part of the night, by reason of the unquietness of his thoughts) heard him speak in his sleep thus. Ah Madam (said he) and what will you say when ye understand of the death of your Knight? After wallowing from one side to another, and waving his Feet and Hands as though he would have swimmed, he muttered in his dream sundry like speeches, and complaints, whereby the Youth who gave good ear, perceived that he was dedicated to the Hests of the Patroness of Paphos: therefore both for that be supposed the man to be troubled in mind, through the fearful objects which were presented to his inward senses as he dreamt, and because his longing to know what person he was, did still augment, jogging the man hard with his Elbow till be was awaked, said: Ho, ho, Companion! what ails you? you are further from the water than you were yesterday, God be thanked. The man in his awaking giving a leap (as it were one half aghast) was recomforted when he found himself in so safe a place: for in his sleep he imagined, that he was yet in the Sea. Wherefore revoking to memory the dangerous hazard from which by the Youths aid then lying by him, he was recovered, he showed not himself displeased for his late thrusting of him, but shrouding himself again under the covert of the Bed-clotheses, began to speak to him on this sort: Sir Knight (said he) if it seemed not offensive to you, I would instantly request you, to vouchsafe me one benefit: assuring you that I will in any matter concerning you, avoid the crime of ingratitude, as well in respect thereof, as also in that you have been the only refuge and rescue of my lief, out of those apparent perils, wherein (hopeless) I was environed: which causeth me to account myself so much bound and beholding to your gentleness, for your unspeakable and exceeding merits, that unfeignedly I do acknowledge my own power, far, unable to recompense the slenderest part of those your so high deserts, yea though I do adventure my life in the hazard of innumerable dangers, for the defence and conservation of yours: vowing furthermore, that you shall require nothing at my hands, which gladly I will not occomplishe for your sake, not only because you have recovered me from present death, but also for that your lineaments and countenance alone do seem worthy, that so great a Prince as I am, should employ himself for you. Wherefore as you esteem my words true, & my promise to proceed from a faithful & constant heart, I pray you to grant unto my first request, which I never seemed to deny to any creature living. Verily Sir (said the Youth) of the Fairies, you seem unto me so courteous and well spoken, that albeit you were but a mean Knight, and not descenden from any royal house, as you have uttered here, yet would I not once offer to conceal any thing whereof ye should demand me: always foreseen, that it resteth in my power to do: reposing such confidence in your good nature and courtesy, that you will not forbear ne disdain to show the like at mine instance, after that I have so satisfied your desire, which I request you not to differre: giving you my word in faith of a knight, that you shall require no thing of me, which (mine honour reserved) I will not attempt with my whole might.  
I beseech you then (quoth the other) that it would please you to discover unto me who you are, and what Fortune hath forced you, being of so young years, to wander thus alone amids the Seas, and likewise, where you conquered the Harness and fair Spear, which yesterday at my entry into this Chamber I did behold: wherewith as I be leave, you arm yourself, when occasion offereth or necessity constraineth so to do: and the reason which moveth me to be desirous to understand the first of these three things, is to the end, that I may know the person certainly, unto whom I stand so deeply indebted, that if I may possibly have a thousand lives to jeopardy in his defence, when need shall require, they may in no wise be spared: wherefore I am again to desire you to disclose the same to me. I promise' you (said the Youth) that since it is so, that you have prevented me, by demanding that which else I had inquired of you, I will not gainsay your demand, having a sure trust, that you will use the like courtesy to me. It remains therefore, that you know, that I was borne in great Britain, and being very young, was nursed and trained up in the Fairy of the Nymph Ozyris: it may be that you have heard report of her, who not long sithence sent me to Constantinople to be dubbed Knight by the Emperor there, who of his gracious inclination refused not to do it: but misfortune who lay in wait everywhere to surprise me, would: alas (sir Knight) I pray you to hold me excused, If I utter no further of my mishap, said he, sighing deeply, & that in performance of the promise, which I have made unto you, this short declaration may suffice: for if you understand any further of my calamities, I do believe that you will scarcely refrain your eyes from Tears, and your heart from bewailing of my lamentable case. The man (who was more desirous to know where he had recovered those Arms which he had seen the evening before in the Chamber, then to hear of any thing else) ceased not very importunately to charge him with his promise, alleging many vehement persuasions, to encourage him thereto: saying (as though he had conjectured somewhat of the passions of the Youth, by his gesture and manner of pronouncyog) that if the original of his mishap and grief proceeded of love, in discovering it to him (as without inconvenience he might assuredly do, as to his especial friend) he should receive such comfort as should yield him singular solace, and if it did arise of any offence namely against him, he promised with all his power to assist him in the execution of the revengement thereof. Whereupon the Youth (the passages of whose voice by the source of his sorrows, were burst open) revived at the remembrrunce of his Dame's beauty, rather heavenly then humane, & discoursed to him a large process of the adventures befalling him, mentioned afore: not concealing any jote untold: and he had not as yet attained to the end of his rehearsal, when the dawning of the day bade them to forsake their beds, so that leisure sailed the Youth ere he could declare where he had recovered the Armour.  
But setting themselves upon the Puppe of their ship, as objects to the glittering beams of Dan Phoebus, as he was addressing his tongue, to finish his rehearsal, by fortune they kenned a Vessel that skmimed the Seas with wonderful swiftness, wherein as the same approached near, they might espy two knights armed at all points, who flourishing with their naked swords in their hands, and their shields upon their Arms, menaced them more and more. Whereof the Youth, who was unarmed, at the first blush abashed, and mistrusting that they came to enterprise upon them at such advantage, descended in all haste to his Chamber, where having taken of his Armour the Shield and Sword only: leaving to his companion, whom he had found in the Sea the rest, to wit, the Corselet, the headpiece and the Spear, mounted up upon the Hatches, where they met with the two Archepyrates, who already had to their own mischief boarded their Ship. For the former of them both, being confronted by the Youth of the Fairies received upon his Headpiece such a stroke, that his Head and body was cleaved down to the Breast, notwithstadding the defence he made with his Shield, his Helmet and other his Harness, which prevented not that fatal blow: not much unlike was the mischance of his Copesmate, who by his Spear pierced the body so violently, that down fell he into the water stark dead: at sight whereof the two Knights stood a certain space, as men amazed each one at the prowess of the other: but especially, he who had been preserved from death, beholding the Youth of the Fairies, with exceeding admiration, to reach that miserable Rover (whom he had slain with wonderful force) the mightiest stroke that ever he did see with his eyes: whose Companions but smallly dismayed at the slaughter of their Companions, running out of their Fort in heaps, assailed these two worthy Knights furtously: who receiving their charge with great assurance, made such havoc, that of thirty of them in half a quarter of an hour, there remained not passed twenty: the half of whom being grievously wounded, they were by fine force compelled to give ground: part of whom leapt into the water to save themselves, the rest that either thought the water over cold, or peradventure unable to swim, fled to their Ship, addressing their Sails to return thither, from whence they came: but omitting the expedition requisite in so urgent necessity, they were all hewn in pieces, one except being reserved, to utter what people they were. For these two excellent Knights, whom I may truly term the most valiant & redoubted wights under the Cope of Heaven, as their deeds hereafter, & namely in the second and third part of this History do clearly witness, after that they were become Masters of the ship, wherein the Pirates had assailed them, entered therein, meaning to take Land with all possible speed, for that the same was furnished with all necessary things, for a Voyage: whereas on the contrary part, their other was not, by reason of the violente tempest, and outrage before declared: which they did accordingly: where they lighted upon marvelous adventures, which hereafter you may understand.   

How the Pirate whose life was saved by the Youth of the Fairies, recounted unto him the Pedegrewe of the giant Squamell, and of the mighty Nabot, together with the love between the same Squamell and the Lady Lucinde, daughter to the King of high Mysia: of whom the Giant finding himself to be despised, did happen upon a Knight, who bore an enchanted Cup, within which who so drank, whatsoever the drink were, should become extremely amorous of the person that offered the same: likewise in this last chapter are many notable adventures comprised.  
¶ The. xxij. Chapter.  
AS the variety of matters heretofore handled, have yielded occasion to you my Lords and Dames, of no slender solace & recreation, so I doubt not but that the residue of this work which hereafter shall be set to open view, concerning this History, will suspend your intentive minds, with the expectation of rarer delights, & delightfuller discourses: and by performance of that which is pretended, satisfy your conceits, with surplusage of pleasant inventions. And now to prosecute our purpose, understand ye, that assoon as the Youth of the Fairies had left his ship, which wandered upon the Sea, without any government, and was entered into that which Bee had conguered of the Pirates, who had attempted to assail him, to their damage and utter confusion, with the aid of the man, whose life he had delivered from the danger of death, objecting himself to perilous hazards for the others safeguard: for the self same person was he, whom he sought for, to the end that he might revenge the supposed death of his faithful friend Pharisor, whom he thought to have been slain by him: being I say sailing upon the Sea in his very company, and making great speed to overtake him, who was no other where but in that Sip, both to know if the Rover whom he had taken, could tell any tidings of him, and also to understand who were those Sea Robbers, whom he had slain, he did the mean while command that the same Pirate should be brought unto his presence: and having questioned with him concerning those news, and showed the cognisances which the knight (whom he pursued) bore in his arms, in the hearing of the same knight, whereat he stood much amazed and astonished, perceiving that he inquired for him, the Pirate spoke and answered in this wise:  
My Lord (said he) as touching the Knight of whom you spoke, I am to certify you, that we have never understood any news: true it is, that yesterday in the evening, when the Tempest that troubled the Seas, was assuaged, as we were roving from one Coast to another, searching some pray to enrich us, as we were accustomed to do, by commandment of the strong Giant Squamel, our Master who is brother to the most mighty and puissant Knight Nabot, of whom there is no doubt, but you have heard notable report (forasmuch as he is the most redoubted Knight formartial prowess, living at this day under the Sun) we by chance encountered upon the border of the fair I'll, which lies not far hence, belonging to the said marvelous Giant, a Ship, which the surges of the Sea had cast to wards shore, being rend and wracked in many places. Within the which we heard a great trampling and noise made by a horse, the gallauntste and goodliest I believe in the whole world: who with his heels bounced against the boards of the ship: whom we drew for thee, and sent him by one of our people that did lead him by the bridle (for ride him he durst not) to our Lord Squamel, with an Harness, and Sword so brave, as possibly might be, which we found there also: and in the Ship (whereof I will tell you) were the cognisances which you have described: and I think that the Harness appertained to the Knight for whom you seek: whom (notwithstanding) we saw not, nor know where he is become, except he be among an infinite number of drowned bodies that be on the shore. In as much as you demand what we are, it seemeth unto me, that by the declaration I have made you (being a sage and wise Knight, as doth appear) you may gather that you require, without any longer process. But tell me (said the Youth) what were those two brave fellows who first enterprised to board our ship:  
The Rover than answered thus: my Lord, (quoth he) the man whom you slew, was our captain, and named Falsant, not so much for that he was the most doughty of our masters Subjects, as for a consideration which I will recount unto you, if it like you to give me the hearing. Speak on (said the Youth) and we will give attentive ear to thy tale, since we have no other thing to pass away the time with all. first than my Lord, before I participate unto you that which I have promised, I will recite (so that it stand with your contentment) the pedigrewe of the Giant Squamell my Master, because it importeth much in that matter. Know ye therefore, that the marvelous she Giant Horfelle (who was of the progeny of the Triple headed Giant Geryon, Son of Chrysaore, who was slain by Hercules, after the decease of his predecessor Ferramond, who had been King of Maiorica and Minorica, and of Erbusa in Spain,) being in her young years, of such dexterity & might in feats of arms, that no man in her time was found, that could withstand her force, had not yet exceeded the age of xvij. or xviij. years, but that she supposing herself of streingth sufficiently, to abide all pain and travail whatsoever should befall, one day among the rest, without taking leave either of Ferramond her Sire, or Garrande her Mother, departed secretly out of the country armed with an unknown Armour. Afterwards having scoured the Seas a long season, visiting all the Isles and Regions which she might discover, where she left behind her triumphant tokens of the victorious conquest, which she had gained, and of the wonderful adventures achieved by her, as many a time I have heard reported by them that were living) whereof a few remain as yet, did so much by her deeds and worthiness, that she as Conqueress entered the Indies. Where understanding by bruit of people, the famous renown of a king of Gedrosia descended from the line of King Porus, that was vanquished by Alexander the Great, and in knightly prowess far surmounting the chiefest knight of those days, passed thereupon into the said Realm of Gedrosia which is bounded with the River Indus, from whence the greater part of the Regions of the Cast, do take their name. Where (to be brief) after a long and sharp conflict, she overcame the same king, who was called Corlorant, and subdued and brought under her obedience, not only the Realm of Gedrosia, but also journeying to Ganges the River, and the deserts of Camul triumphed of the victory which she obtained against the great Cham of Cathay, in the farthest parts of all the Cast, enthronizing herself in the seat royal of Oriental Scythia, which otherwise is termed Tartary, adjoining to the country of Bactria near unto Parthia. But not contented therewith, whether it be for that as you know, the more that some persons abound in riches, the greedilier they covet worldly wealth, or for that she desired to extend the flight of her renown further, and yield a Testimony of her haughty and invincible prowess, to the unknown parts of the world, she travailed so far, that she attained to the extreme Confines of Africa: where malicious fortune spiting at her fame, played here a trick of her waveringnes and inconstancy. Now therefore as soon as this valiant Virago and vauqueresse Horfelle, was received into the Region of Spithanne, she wondered greatly to see the inhabitants thereof so little, that six of the tallest that there could be found, being set one upon another, could scarce reach unto her waste: howbeit that hindered not the blind pygmy Cupid, to assault her more vehemently, than any her enemies in Gedrosia. Tartary, Parthia, or any other part which she had been in: who for to surprise her, and to give her to understand, that he was more mighty than she, for all her pride and jollity, although before time there was none that could daunt her courage, pursued her being furnished with his Shafts, Bow, and flaming brands into that country, where by his subtle sleights he wounded her in one of the soundest parts of her entrails, after an other sort, than she was wounded in the combat, which she had with the hardy Corlorant. For she was enamoured on the king of that country, in such sort, that she could neither rest by night, nor employ her mind by day on other affairs: saving in the feeding of her affections with those ceaseless conceits: albeit that this petite Prince was not passed three cubits in height, & had to name Nabron: at which thing Sir, those that have not tasted the experience of love, hearing, have been greatly astonished: as at a thing impossible: but if they weigh well, that this pretty Archer having his eyes overcaste with a black Cypress band, and his eyesight bedewde therewith, can not clearly discern what he doth, after that his scorching Shafts, being guided as destiny drives them, are shot thick and three fold among the multitude of mortal Wights, he woundeth the great as well as the sinal, and contrariwise, enforcing the sister to be sometimes ravished with an unlawful fancy towards her brother, as Biblis: the daughter towards the Father, as Myrrah, or the father towards the daughter: I am persuaded, that changing their opinions, & ceasing their astonishment, they will not marvel a whit, if Horfelle that was of unmeasurable greatness, was so rapt with the love of a Pigmean King, in such manner, that in steed of emploing her force against some stout knight or Giant, or destroying horrible and fell monsters, she held him company at such times, as he with his manlinges went to skirmish with the Cranes: that were so grievous unto them by reason of the daily battles, which they fought with them, that he seemed to be in no less extremity, than Phineus, by the assaults of the foul Harpies was, so that he could take no one repast at quiet. Howbeit being acquainted as before is showed with this noble Dame (as was not uneasy for him to procure, because of her extreme passions) she found her heart shortly after exempt from these miseries. For one day in an encounter and skirmish between the Pigmies and Cranes, this amorous Horfelle, intending to give trial with what affection she would adventure herself in his service, and how much she alone exceeded in might and main, both him and all his people together, by her only presence affrighted so these Master Birds, that never sithence they attempted war against him, nor as yet durst approach the place where the King sojourned. Upon which occasion Nabron considering how much beholding he was to the Dame (whom he honoured, and entertained as well as he could) on a certain day made unto her an offer of all the Treasures & riches which he enjoyed in this world: for which the she Giant Horfelle thanked him humbly, refusing it as she that was much more abounding in wealth than he, and his Treasures were far unfit and disagreeing from the Medicine appliable to her Malady, which she felt day and night, to reave her of all delight and contentation. Wherefore seeing the Path (to pass unto the purpose which she pretended) ready beaten, she discovered at a certain time her grief: & being alone in the Chamber of the King Nabron, did so coll him and kiss him, and used such other wanton daliaunces, that the little dandiprat receiving in good part the fortune offered, not willing to refuse the amity of the Dame, for fear that he should be accounted a discourteous or sottish person, made no conscience or pause at the matter, but lustily mounted upon this Princess, to view her thoroughly, without further process: for she was beautiful and of a good grace. And either of them found such sweet taste in this new sport, that having renewed the Combat often times, the fair she Giant Horfelle, at the end of five months after the fashion of the Pigmees was delivered of a fair Child: about a four months after that, she brought forth another, whom nine months she had conceived and borne according as the order of nature requireth: the one of them was named Nabot, and this is he who is famous throughout all the world, being endued with such exceeding force and marvelous hardiness, that his pier liveth not this day on the Earth. This man in regard of his hardiness is the chiefest knight in the Court of the king of Thracia, who long ago sailing towards the Indies, arrived by fortune in the Realm of Spithamye: and there finding Nabot, being then a Child, but strong and sturdy as possible might be in tender age, howbeit of so great stature, as at this present he is (for he is scarcely three Cubits in height,) taking him away, privily carried him into his Country, where he hath caused him to be nourished and iustructed with such curiosity and diligence, and likewise to be trained up in feats of Arms so carefully, that in fine by reason of his expertness in Martial affairs, & worthiness of the said Nabot, he is so feared and redoubted, that in Europe is no king that dare attempt to do him any annoyance. But now to return to my purpose, & to the end, that I stray not from the path that guides me to the sum of my discourse: it followeth, that the other child of the she Giant Horfelle, and of Nabron the dwarf, was herein unlike and contrary to his Brother Nabot: for he was so huge, that in Childbirthe his mother died, & is at this time most huge & monstrous in size, and piereles for force and prowess: he is named Squamel: whose servant I was, & also every of them that were slain by you, who also is Lord and Ruler of the fair I'll, the most fruitful and pleasant place that is situate in all this Sea, which he conquered by the means which I will tell you. You are to note, that after his nativity, being as then but a little one in comparison of the huygenes of his body, at this instant he incurred such fortune as his Brother had done before him: for he was also stolen away by certain Merchants, who traveling into Indie, were by fortune driven to shore, in the confines of his Father's Dominions, from whence they carried him away, and sithence sold him to the Ring of higher Mysia, for a great Mass of Money: who likewise gave order that he should be nurtured and brought up honourably: & gave him for my Esquire, being as yet very young to serve his daughter, who was the most accomplished Lady in all perfection of beauty, that could be found, and was named Lucinda. Of this Dame, the young Giant was enamoured, being now come to the age wherein the fervent heat of love beginneth to augment, and that so exceedingly, that his lively and ruddy colour turned to pale and wan looks: his body become lean and feeble, through want of sustenance, he eschewed all company, and choosed to live solitary. But all in vain suffered he those torments and perplexities in respect of the squeymishnes of his disdainful Dame, who to countervail his hot love, because of the great stature and extraordinary proportion of his limbs, was so scornfully despised and abjectly esteemed by her, as if he had been the basest of her household servants. Whereupon his restless thoughts did continually so vex him, that either unwilling or unable to recant his Religion, I mean to serve from the service of the saint to whom he had vowed all reverence and adoration, one day it came into his fantasy, to require the King his Lord to grant him the order of Knighthood. The King who knew that he was extracted from Royal lineage, as the Merchants that had sold him did inform his Majesty, gamesaied not that motion of his, considering therewithal, that his service might stand him in great steed, by means of his strength and mightiness incomparable. But immediately after he was dubbed with that degree, he abode not long there, but set himself in quest of strange adventures, whereof he honourably achieved so many, that at this day he is reputed one of the oddest Knights upon the face of the whole earth: as also his worthiness, meriteth no less reputation: for encountering his brother Nabot, by chance upon a day, he fought against him hand to hand, with such fury, that their Combat endured a whole day until the evening. When as each of them (amazed at the valiance of the other, having never as yet found any wight, that long could withstand them) entered into questioning one of the other, concerning the place of their birth, and what they were: so that having recounted their fortunes, as they sometimes had heard told by such as nourished them, they knew themselves to be brethren: and doing away all debate, éntertained each other, with an other kind of greeting then all the day before they had done. Afterwards iournening both together, they were separated, I know not by what adventure, but in such sort, that the Grant (the fame of whose prowess was spread over all the Circuit of the world) came unto the king of higher Mysia, where he was somewhat welcomed by his Lady, who was glad of such a one for her Knight. And feeding himself with the conceit of good hap, for that the Princess had cast certain glances towards him, he took upon him at last, the boldness to discover his love unto her: who cutting of his suit with a short and sharp answer, compelled him as then to desist from his enterprise: nevertheless his kindled and secret fire, brussing at length into open and fervent flames, intolerably, & continually vexing him, made him to hazard his speech once more, to assay if he could mollify her indurate breast, with the compassion of his misery: but the Dame persisting obstinately in her accustomed manner, answered him with the like denial as she had done afore: howbeit not sauced with such bitter taunts: which brought the Giant into conceit, that her untractable rigour and selfwill began somewhat to mitigate. Wherefore espying fit opportunity for the renewing of his suit, he findeth means to have access unto her, being alone in her Chamber: where entering into communication, he discourseth unto her, a fair and Courtly Tale: whereof he had provided himself afore hand, concerning his extreme passions: setting it forth to the uttermost, in words, voice, countenance and gesture, concluding every sentence with such sighing, that the scornful Dame seemed partly to relent, rendering him an answer tolerable enough. For (quoth she,) I can not persuade myself, that your affections are so fervent as you (though feignedly) have here expressed, seeing that you have not as yet adventured yourself in any attempt, deserving my favour: but if for my love you will not shrink to enterprise one Combat at my appointment, I will not stick to accept you for my Knight and friend: so that you worthily achieve the same. The Giant exceeding joyful of so wished an answer, said, that she should command him nothing (were it never so difficult and uneasy) but that in hope of her good grace, he would bring it to pass. Marry then (said the Dame) you are to go to morrow to the castle of Melande, where you must fight against all them that you shall find therein: and if you return from thence victorious, than you shall be he that may dispose of me according to your own william. For I have vowed, that no person shall purchase the grant of my good will, nor enjoy the fruits of my love, but only he that shall accomplish that act. These words did cast the Giant into his dumps, especially for that he had charged his own shoulders with so troublesome and heavy a burden: for it behoved him to Combat with more than a Million of Devils, who were enclosed in an old ruinous castle, being inhabitable by reason thereof, being there set by the enchantments of an old Sorceress named Melande: and to chase them out it was unpossible for any, saving for him that surpassed all other Knights in force and prowess. So it was notwithstanding, that the Giant purposing with himself, that a speedy and praiseworthy death, was to be preferred before a languishing and unhappy life (such as he endured,) failed not to put in execution the commandment of his Dame. And did so much by his worthiness and courage, that he defeated the Charms of the Enchaunteresse, and drove from thence the devils: who daily raised up an horrible Tempest and uproar in the Castle: after departing from thence, a victorious conquerout, he hasted to his Dame: requiring her to perform her promise. She understanding thereof, and forced to her extremities, settled her wits to the invention of some mischievous practise: whereby the Giants day might be abridged. Wherefore, albeit at the first her outward countenance descried the inward motions of her spiteful heart, yet to the intent she might the more certainly entrap him unwares, she entertained him courteously enough, and looking forth at one of the casementes of her chamber window, that stood over against a Park, wherein the king her Father had caused a great multitude of Lions, Bears, Boars, and sundry other savage beasts to be put, willed the Giant to look out at an other, that they might talk together, which he presently did: Deeming himself happy in receiving such favour of his Dame. But as he was in beginning to declare the unfainednes of his affections, the Dame who was wily and guileful, seeming to give attentive ear to his speech, did let fall (as though it were by misregard) one of her Bracelets, garnished over with fine Diamonds, Rubies, Emeralds, and other Precious stones curiously wrought, which she was accustomed to wear on her Arms: whereat she seeming to be somewhat aggrieved, did complain for the loss of her Bracelet. Squamel seeing her grief conceived for the want of so rich and precious a Jewel, and mistrusting no whit the malice of his Mistress, offered rather hastily then willingly to descend into the place, if it liked her: thinking that she loved him so well, that she would not permit him to assubiect his person to such evident hazards among such a number of wild Beasts: but his expectation was deceived. For the Dame most instantly required him to do it, and he without gainesaiing or delay, furnished with no defensible thing, except his Sword only, descended deliverly into the Park of ramping Lions and other cruel beasts: who had no sooner perceived him, but like unto a company of dogs (when they see a Wolf invading the flock to catch a Sheep) so ran they from all parts to assail him: but so incomparable was his mighty prowess, in that exigent, that after he had killed a great maynie of them, he escaped alive out of that deadly danger, houbeit not without sundry Wounds and Bruises: whereof report being made to the king, he was no less astonished at the hardiness of the Giant, them aggrieved at the loss of his beasts: for he took great delight in the keeping of them. Wherefore in his indignation he threatened to put the Giant to death without respect of the service done by him. Who being advertised of his displeasure, caused six or seven great ships to be rigged for his speedy avoiding out of the Realm of Mysia: to the end he might escape the reach of the kings power being his Lord, against whom he would not for any thing in the world make resistance. Then committing himself to the Surges of the Sea, bearing an Ocean of Passions in his mind, before his departure he took Congee of his Dame: who in steed of Adieu, vomiting out the venom which she carried in her cankered stomach, she upbraided him with a thousand injuries and peevish slanders: which might have apparently assured the Giant of the spitefulness of his disloyal Lady. Yet he making small account thereof, and supposing that she had spoken the same in jest, persuaded himself, that (such discourtesy and mischievousnes, finding no place in the heart of so fair and lovely a Dame) it could not be but that he was ardently beloved of her, saving that she would not have it appear, for fear jest any should thereof certify the king her father. Wandering on the Sea, and blinded with this false opinion, by adventure he discovered the fair I'll, which with the aid of many of us that were his especial friends (who had accompanied him in all that journey) he conquered, and established himself in the seat Royal, after that he had chased him that was in possession afore, from thence: although he was a puissant Prince, and defeated the more part of them that withstood his attempt. And in consideration of the beauty, wholesome site and plentifulness of the same I'll, he determined to make the same a place of continual abode for him during life. Now, for because it is a place where many vessels do use to lie at Anchor, he determined to spoil as many as he could possibly catch, which he omitted not to do accordingly: so that by the Richeses and Furniture which he hath purchased through such kind of pilling, he is become one of the most puissant and redoubted Princes that is in Gréece, except the Emperor of Constantinople, as sometimes I have heard him report unto the knight slain by you: who had been not long sithence in his service in the company of the Duke of Chalcide. That knight falling extremely in love with the Daughter of the same Duke, had required sundry times her love in am, but the proud and disdainful Damozell despising him, did set light by his suit: whereat the knight taking exceeding indignation, and thinking to be revenged, as he walked abroad on a certain day, he met with a stranger, who in his time had been so cunning in the art of Magic, that by his skill he had formed a Goblet of Gold (wherein were set many fair Precious stones of value inestimable) endued with such virtue, that who so drank therein, whatsoever the Potion were, should be enamoured on that person, who had poured the drink into the said Goblet. Which he refte from the poor Magician, who had been an exile of Persia: for that the great soldan of that region would have had it, to the end he might purchase the love of the emperors daughter of Constantinople. Thus having recovered this enchanted Cup, he found means that his cruel Dame drank therein, who was and is yet so entangled in the love of a young Page, which sometimes served her, that she shrinked not to prostitute her body, to be abused by him in Venus' daliaunces and disports: but to the end he might bereave her of the sweet delights, which she had with her new love, the knight slew him: and upon this occasion was forced to forsake his country, jest he should be apprehended and punished. As he was wandering on the sea, intending to have gone into Persia, to cell the same cup to the great soldan, he was prevented, in his journey by us: who under the conduct of our Master Squamel (seeing that there artued no other ship at our Isle, by the spoil whereof we might increase our wealth as we were accustomed) we began to rove along the Seas from Coast to Coast, to get some good booty. And so this knight being taken as before is said, the Giant Squamel commanded him to be Closed up into an evil favoured and loathsome Prison, in the company of many others whom he had held there in miserable thraldom: whom at such times as he entered any voyage on the Sea, to apprehend some vessels passing by, he caused them to be bound very straightly to the mast: So that the same knight being there placed among the rest, and chancing to hear the Giant complain of the cruelty and rigour of fair Lucinde his Dame, told him that if he would grant him liberty, he would so use the matter, that the Giant should be so much beloved of her, as now he is hated, by the virtue of the golden Goblet, whereof we bave made mention. The Giant consented thereto willingly. Afterwards the knight having delivered it, he travailed into high Mysia, where he found means to make his Dame secretly a Present of the Enchanted Goblet, wherein he caused her to drink, saying that it retained the property that the Dame or gentlewoman which he should grant to drink in the same, should become so fair, that she should be second to none in perfection of beauty. But the trial verified his words to be untrue, for in steed of augmenting of her beauty, she is contrariwise so withered, wan, and disfigured, that she hath lost the principallest part of her beautifulness: she hath ever since, and is still so worn away by force of her amorous passion. For our master hath purposed to suffer her to languish so long, as he remained bound under the servile yoke of her love. Whereat he received such contentation, that for the recompense of the gift offered unto him by that knight, he constituted him Lieutenant general and vicegenent in his absence, of the kingdom of the fair I'll: committing unto him all charge to pill and rob whatsoever he may by any possibility attain unto: which he endeavouring to accomplish, this misadventure is happened unto him (and to the other knight being his cousin, and taken with him whom your companion hath slain) which you know better than myself. For ●a●yng discovered you, he left his Army that is not far hence, ●o search for that which he was no more able to demand than I or all they, whose days you have cut of. And assure yourself (my Lord) that if the rest of my companion's should understand of his death, you shall hardly escape, they happening to encounter you: for they are more than six hundredth stout and lusty Soldiers. Behold (my Lord) the occasion whereupon he was appointed to be our captain, and what he was, according to your demand.  
After that the Pirate had ended his tale, in the order afore declared, the Youth who attentively gave ear, called to his remembrance, that this Knight was the person, whereof the Lady enamoured (lacking her Lover) spoke even as you heard reported afore, when he was separated from his faithful friend Pharisor. Wherefore he rejoiced not a little, for that he had revenged her quarrel, in recompense of the entertainment, which she had made him in her Castle. And considering with himself, that the Enchanted Cup, detained by the Giant Squamel, should serve his turn passing well, in the pursuit of his Love, determined therefore, to winue it from the Giante, either by fair means, or force: after that he had found, and fought with the unknown knight, to wreak the death of Pharisor, who on the other side adventured to do the like: whereupon such chances befell him, as more fitly and pleasantly I intend to recount in the second Book. For now am I constrained to leave the Youth of the Fairies, wandering upon the main Seas, in the company of him, whom he pursued (to whom fortuned the most strange adventure that ever was heard of) because that reason requireth me to end this first part: for so much as the same order is observed, by our ancient Chronicler Gallarx, whose style and manner of writing I do imitate. Wherefore, my Lords & Dames, I humbly request you to hold me excused, if any defect happen to be found in this book: assuring you to supply all such wants in the next, with more pleasure and contentment, if so be it shall like you to bestow your convenient leisure, in the reading thereof, and that with usury: reciting unto youth dreadful combat between the Youth of the Fairies, and the Giant Squamel (who withheld his horse and Armour) and of the most courageous and puissant knight Nabot, who had the good Sword Duranzarde, which he had conquered from the Giant Scaraferab: and did cut any thing that it did light upon: & likewise the enchanted Armour: which I persuade myself, shall yield no less delight unto valiant knights (who receive pleasure in hearing of the worthy acts of our ancestors) than the love full of bitter pleasures and sweet bitterness, between the said Youth and the Lady Porphyry, will be pleasurable to all beautiful and favourable Dames. For I will there describe many other accidents, no less delectable than wonderful, contained within the compass of this History.   
FINIS.