THE ANCIENT, FAMOUS And Honourable History of Amadis de Gaul. DISCOURSING THE ADVENTURES, Loves and Fortunes of many Princes, Knights and Ladies, as well of Great Britain, as of many other Kingdoms beside, etc.  
Written in French by the Lord of Essars, Nicholas de Herberay, Ordinary Commissary of the King's Artillery, and his Lieutenant thereof, in the Country and government of Picardy, etc.  
Printed at London by NICHOLAS OKES, 1619.   

TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE, SIR PHILIP HERBERT, Knight of the Bath at the Coronation of our dread Sovereign King James; Lord Baron of Sherland; Earl of Mountgomerie, and Knight of the most Noble Order of the Garter, etc.  
Having already presented your Honour, with the Third and Fourth Books of this famous History of Amadis de Gaul, and standing engaged by my promise, to translate so many more of them, as time and your noble acceptance shall thereto enable me; finding also those two imprinted parts, to appear as a body without an head, because these former Books are the guide and dirction to them all: I have now finished them, and therefore make a fresh representation of them all four to your Honour. The fifth, sixth, seventh and eight Books (being already in good forwardness of translation) with as much expedition as possible may be, and your worthy encouragement for their proceeding; shall very shortly present themselves before you, in the best habit that mine ability can put upon them.  
It is not unknwne to your honour, that the manifold impressions of this history, the Books thereof being now come to be five and twenty in number, and printed in places far distant a sunder: through neglect in the publishers, or defect of the Books which are perfect indeed, many false volumes have flown abroad, and the world thereby very much abused. But by the help of that worthy Lady, I have had such Books as were of the best editions, and them (as I have already begun) I intent to follow.  
In the mean time (Noble Lord) accept of these four Books I beseech you, and defend them from the venomous tongue of foul mouthed detraction, burying all my imperfections herein committed, in the urgent importunity of that worthy Lady, by whom I have thus boldly presumed, & the rest will bear me blameless against your least mislike.  
Your Honours in all duty. A. M.   
THE FIRST BOOK OF AMADIS DE GAUL.  
Discoursing the Adventures and Love of many Knights and Ladies, as well of the Realm of great Britain, as sundry other Countries, etc.  

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

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

CHAP. III.  
How King Perion parting from little Britain, traveled on his journey, having his heart filled with grief and melancholy.  
KIng Perion being on his way toward Gaul, as already hath been recited, entered into a marvelous melancholy, as well for the grief wherein he had left his Elisena, to whom in his hart he wished well: as also for his doubtful dream, being in such sort as you have heard. So long road he in this heaviness, till he arrived in his country, and soon after he sent for all his great Lords as also the Prelates of his Realm, giving them express charge, to bring with them the most learned Clarks in their Countries, and this he did, to the end they might expound his dream. When his vassals had made known his will, not only those he sent for, but many other came to the court, showing the desire they had to see him, & their readiness to obey his command: for they did so love and reverence him, as oftentimes (being fearful to lose him) they were for him in very great grief and sorrow, thinking on the dangerous perils, that in chivalry (to win honour) he hazarded himself, so that they would more gladly have had him daily with them, which could not be, because his hart was discontented, till by arms he had brought the greatest adventures to end.  
The Lords and Princes thus assembled, the King conferred with them on the estate and affairs of the Realm, but it was with so sad countenance as could be: for the occasion of his dream made him so pensive, as his Subjects (being abashed thereat) were in marvelous doubts, notwithstanding, after he had given them to understand his will, and appointed all requisite matters in order, he gave them leave to depart, sending each one home to his house, only staying with him three Astrologers, reputed the most skilful in those actions, and therefore he made choice of them. These men he called into his chapel, there causing them solemnly to swear & promise, that without fear of any thing, how dangerous soever it were, they should interpret to their uttermost, and truly express what he would declare to them, whereupon he told them his dream, as hath been already before rehearsed: then one of them being named Vngan the Piccard, the most expert of them all, thus answered. My Lord, dreams are vain things, and for such aught to be esteemed: notwithstanding, seeing it is your pleasure that some account should be made of yours, give us some time to consider thereon. It liketh me well, said the king, within 12 days look that you make in answer. But to the end they should not disguise or co●ceale the truth from him, he c●●sed them to be sepereted, so that during the time agreed upon, they might neither see to speak together: wherefore to their uttermost they travailed in what they had promised the King, so that the day being come, when they should render an occompt of their labour, he first took Albert of champaign aside, and said to him. Thou knowest how thou hast sworn and promised, to tell me what thou hast found by thy skill. Sir answered Albert, let then the rest be called into your presence, for before them will I tell ye. Well hast thou advised, said the King whereupon they were sent for, afterward Albert thus began. My opinion is, my Lord, that the closed Chamber, and him whom you saw enter by the secret door, signifieth this Realm which is close & well guarded: notwithstanding by some right thereto, some one shall come to take it from you. And like as he thrust his hands into your sides, renting forth thence your hart, and afterward threw it into the River: even so shall your Towns and Castles both more & less, be privily stolen from you, and put into his hand from whom you shall not easily recover them. And what meaneth the other hart, said the King, which I dreamt should remain with me, and yet he said, that soon after I should lose it, against the will of him that took the first from me? It seemeth by this, answered Albert, that some other shall invade your Country as the first did, yet constrained more by force of another that commanded him to do so, then by any will thereto in himself: thus see ye (my Lord) all that I can tell ye. Now said the king to the second named Antalles, tell us your advise. Me thinks Sir, quoth he, that Albert hath very well said, and I am of his opinion, except in this, (for aught I can learn, & as the cause showeth me) that what he saith shall happen, is already effected, & by the person that most loveth ye: notwithstanding I am greatly amazed thereat, seeing there is not as yet any part of your Realm lost, & if you do lose any thing hereafter, it must be by such a one as loveth you dearly. When the king heard this, he nodded his head, for it seemed to him, that he came near the mark: but Vngan the Piccard, who knew much more than the other, fell into a laughter, which he was seldom wont to do, because he was a man very sad and melancholy, yet (by chance) the King perceived it, wherefore he said. Master Vngan my friend, now remaineth none but you, say boldly what you have gathered. My Lord, quoth he, peradventure I have seen into things, which is not necessary to be known to any other than yourself, & therefore let these give place a while, if you please. At these words they withdrew themselves, leaving the King and Vngan alone, who thus spoke.  
If your Majesty saw me ere while to laugh, it was at one word which little you think on, yet it is true, and will you know what? It was that which Antalles said, that what he found by your dream was already happened, & by the person that best loveth ye: Now shall I reveal what you keep in secret and think that none knows but yourself. You love (my Lord) in such a place, where you have already accomplished your will, and she whom you love is surpassing fair, than told he all the gests and fashions of her, as if she had been there present. But as for the chamber you found shut, you know Sir, full well what it meaneth, and how she whom you love, desirous to deliver her heart and yours from grief and sadness: came to ye, entering your chamber by the false door that was hid from you. The hands that opened your sides, is the convinction of you twain: then the heart taken from ye, showeth that she hath by you a Son or a Daughter. Now tell me said the King, what meaneth the casting thereof into the River? My Lord, quoth he, that nothing concerneth you, therefore never labour for further knowledge thereof. Yet would I, said the King, feign understand it, and therefore fear not to tell me for any harm that may happen. Seeing you will needs have it, answered Vngan, I beseech ye Sir assure me while you live, for any thing that I shall reveal, you will not be displeased with her who loveth you so loyally. That promise do I faithfully make thee, said the King. In good sooth Sir, quoth Vngan, that heart that you saw thrown into the water, is the first infant she shall have by you, who must of necessity be forsaken. And the other, said the King, that shall remain with me, what meaneth that? You may, answered Vngan, understand by the one, design of the other, which is, that she shall conceive another child, who shall be carried away against the will of her, that caused the loss of the first. Thou hast told me strange things, said the King, and would God the misfortune of my Children were not so true, as what thou hast told me concerning the Lady I love. For things ordained and appointed by the highest, answered Vngan, none knoweth how to gainsay or remedy, and therefore men of wisdom should never be sad or rejoice at them, because oftentimes the Lord disposeth matters beyond the capacity of men & far otherwise then they expect. For this cause my Lord, forgetting all that I have said, and which you have been so curious to understand: refer all things to God, desiring him in these your affairs and all other, to limit the end of them to his honour and glory, and thus (in mine opinion) you ought to set down your rest. The King was highly contented with Vngan, and so esteemed of him, that from thence forward he had him near his person, by means whereof he received many great favours. Now it happened, that at that instant as the king parted from the Philosophers, a damosel presented herself before him, right costly in garments and fair in beauty, thus speaking. Understand King Perion, that when thou recoverest thy loss, the Kingdom of Ireland shall lose her flower. So giving her Palfrey the bridle, and the King not able to stay her, she road away: these words made the good Prince more sad & pensive than he was before.  
For this time the Author le●… veth this purpose, & returneth to speak of the infant, that Gandales caused to be nourished, whom he made to be called the Gentleman of the Sea. Now was he curiously entertained, wherefore in short time he grew and became so faite, that all which beheld him marveled thereat, but one day among other it happened, that Gandales road to sport himself in the fields, arming himself as became a good Knight: for he had daily accompanied the king Languines, at such time as he searched after adventures, and albeit the king discontinued Arms, yet Gandales would oftentimes exercise himself, and as he road, he met with a damosel that thus speak to him. Ah Gandales, if many great personages were advertised of what I know certainly, I assure thee they would cause thee to lose thy head. Wherefore? quoth he. Because, said the damosel, thou nourishest their death in thy house. The knight knew not the woman that thus talked with him, but you must understand, how she was the same that said to king Perion, that when he recovered his loss, the Kingdom of Ireland should lose her flower, yet notwithstanding he was far from the matter, because he knew not whereof she spoke, and therefore thus replied. For God's sake (damosel) I pray ye tell me, on what occasion you use these speeches. Believe me Gandales, qooth she, I have told thee nothing but truth. At these words she departed from him, leaving him very sad and pensive: yet long he did not continue in these thoughts, but he saw her return again, in great haste, thus crying & calling. Ah Gandales, for God's sake succour me: than Gandales turning about, beheld a knight follow her with his Sword drawn, wherefore he gave his horse the spurs to meet him, and placed himself for the defence of the damosel, then coming to him that pursued her, he said. Stay thou bade advised knight, what moveth thee thus treacherously to outrage Ladies? What now? answered the other, dost thou hope to save her, who by trumpery hath made me lose both body and soul? That meddle not I withal, said Gandales, but I will defend her to my power, well knowing that Ladies ought not to be corrected in this manner, albeit they did deserve it. We shall presently see that, answered the knight: and so galloped to the place from whence he came, which was a little thicket of trees, where stayed a very beautiful Lady, who when she saw him return, came forth, bringing him a Shield and a strong Lance, which he took, and without longer tarriance, returned to his enemy, Gandales being a stern knight, would not refuse him: whereupon they met together in such sort, as their lances were broken no their shields, and they with their horses cast to the ground, yet quickly did they recover footing, when began between them a marvelous combat, which worse would have been, but that she which desired succour of Gandales, stepped between them, saying. Stay Gentlemen, fight no more. At these words, the Knight who before pursued her went back, then said the damosel to him. Come now and ask pardon of me. Most willingly, answered the Knight, then throwing his Sword and Shield down, came and humbled himself on both his knees before her, whereat Gandales was greatly amazed, afterward the damosel said to the Knight. Go command the Lady under the trees, that she get her away immediately, unless thou shalt take her head from her shoulders. To this charge the Knight yielded himself obedient, and to her whom he loved more than himself (by sudden change from love to hatred) he came and angrily said. Traitorous woman, I know not how I shall defend myself from killing thee presently. Well perceived the poor Lady, that her friend was enchanted, and that contestation would nothing at all profit her: wherefore incontinent she mounted on her palfrey, and road away, making the most grievous sorrow that ever was heard, and there remained she whom Gandales had defended, speaking to him in this manner. You have (Sir) done so much for me, as I shall be beholding to you while I live, and now you may depart at your pleasure: for if the knight offended me, I have pardoned him with all my heart. As touching your pardon, answered Gandales, I have nothing to do therewith: for myself, I will end the Combat, or he shall hold himself vanquished. It behoveth that you acquit him, said the damosel, seeing that if you were the best Knight in the world, easily can I make him overcome ye. Do therein what you can, replied Gandales, but I will not acquit him, except you first declare to me, wherefore (even now) you said, that I kept the death of many people in my house. Then will I rather tell ye, quoth she, because I love you both: He as mine own Soul, & you as my defender, albeit constraint cannot make me do it: so taking him aside, she said. You shall swear to me as a loyal Knight, that no other shall know it by you, until such time as I command it: hereof he made her faithful promise. Know then, said the damosel, that he whom you found in the Sea, shall one day be the flower of chivalry, and shall cause the very strongest to stoop, he shall enterprise, and with honour finish what other shall fail off: and such deeds of arms shall he do, as no one thinks can be begun or ended by the strength of one man. The proud shall he make humble and gracious, being cruel and pitiless, as also benign and amiable to the debonair: this Knight most loyally will maintain love, and shall effect in place answerable to his magnanimity. Moreover, I assure thee Gandales, that he is the Son of a King, and (without doubt) all this will happen which I have told thee: but if thou keep it not secret, it may return thee more harm then good. Madame, answered Gandales, I pray ye tell me where I may meet with you hereafter, to conferne with you on the affairs of this infant. That must you not know by me, said the damosel, or any other. Yet tell me your name, quoth Gandales, if so it be your pleasure. By the faith you bear to the thing you most love in the world, replied she you conjure me so, as you shall know it: albeit the thing that most I love, is he that wisheth me least good, and would you know what he is? it is the Knight against whom ere while you combated: notwithstanding, I will not leave to entreat him at my pleasure, without he being able to remedy himself. My name is Vrganda the unknown: and to the end you may remember me an other time, behold me well at this present. At that instant, she who showed herself to Gandales fair, young and fresh, as one of eighteen years, became so old and over spent, as he marveled how she could sit on her horse, if then he was stricken into admiration, you may judge. But when she had been a pretty while in that state, she took out of a little bottle (which she carried) a certain unguent, wherewith she rubbed her face, & right soon recovered her former countenance, saying to Gandales. What judge ye now Sir? think you to find me hereafter against my will, using all the diligence you can devise? never therefore put yourself to such pain: for when all living creatures go about it, if I list, they shall lose their labour. In good faith Madam, answered Gandales, I now make no doubt thereof, yet I beseech ye to be mindful of the Gentleman, who is forsaken of all but myself. Do not you trouble yourself therewith, said Vrganda, this forsaking will be a recovering of much more. My love to him in greaterthen you can imagine, being she that shortly intends to receive by him two aids, which no other can give me. In recompense whereof, I will give him two likewise, wherewith he shall think himself highly satisfied. Let this suffice ye for this time, because of necessity I must be gone: advising ye, that you shall see me again sooner than you think for. At these words the damosel departed, and Gandales, who had not all this while regarded the Knight against whom he fought, seeing him now bareheaded, reputed him one of the goodliest Gentlemen that ever he had seen: who after he had taken up his Shield, and laced on his helmet, followed the Damosel, wherefore for this time we will let them go, continuing what happened to Gandales.  
Vrganda being departed, he returned toward his castle, meeting by the way with the Lady, whom Vrganda had caused to be chased from her friend, and this sorrowful woman was heard by a Fountain, where she wept & lamented very bitterly: when she espied him that came toward her, she easily knew him, wherefore she thus spoke. Is it possible, Sir Knight, that the wicked creature whom you succoured, hath done so much as to let you live? wicked she is not, answered Gandales, but wise and virtuous: and if you be otherwise, I will make you deny these foolish words. Ah God, said the Lady: how can the villain deceive every one? How hath she deceived you; replied Gandales. Alas, quoth the Lady, she hath taken from me the fair Knight that should be mine: and so may I well say, seeing he would be more content to be with me, then with her. This is mere folly, answered Gandales, for in mine opinion, both you & she do love without reason. How ever it be, said the Lady, if I can I will be avenged. You travile in vain, quoth he, thinking to injury her that knows it, not only before you execute it, but when you imagine it. In sooth answered the Lady, this afternoon ye may be gone when you please: and nevertheless it often happeneth, that those which think they know most by presumption, fall into the greatest dangers. Gandales seeing her so impatient, commending her to God, followed his way, thinking more of the young Gentleman's affairs, than what the Lady had spoken to him. Being come to his Castle, and seeing the little boy come running towards him, he took him up in his arms, and lovingly embracing him, remembered what Vrganda had said to him, which made the tears stand in his eyes with joy, saying within himself. Fair Child, I pray God I may live so long, as to see thee such a one as I hope for. At this time the young Prince was about three years old, who seeing his Lord weep, (as one moved with compassion) he wiped his eyes, which made Gandales imagine great humanity in him: and that as the child grew in age & strength, so waxed he in will, the better to help him if he had occasion. Wherefore thence forward, he was very careful of him, devising all means for his best education, and compayning continually with his play fellow Gandalin, he took very great delight in shooting.  
He being come to the age of six years, King Languines and his Queen riding through the Country, came to Gandales Castle, where they were royally feasted: But before they there arrived, Gandales being advertised of their coming, caused the young Prince and his companions to be hid in a back Chamber, fearing that in respect of his beauty and good grace, the King would be desirous to take him away with him, or else that the children would be troublesome to the house. But it fortuned, that the Queen being lodged in one of the highest rooms in the Castle, as she looked forth at a window, which was on that side where the Children were, she espied the young Prince and his play-fellows drawing their bows, and marking him very well, she liked him above all the other, taking great pleasure to behold his countenance, thinking he was Son to the Lord of the house: yet being doubtful, and not seeing any of whom she might ask the question, she thus called to her Ladies. Come and behold the fairest young creature that ever was seen. At these words they all came running, and soon after, the Child being dry, left his bow by his companions, going to drink at a conduit pipe, which was hard by: in mean while, one of them that was bigger than the Prince, took up his bow to draw it, but Gandalin would not suffer him, whereupon a great strife fell between them, and Gandalin being the weakest, cried out: Gentleman of the sea, come help me. When the Prince heard him, he left his draft, and ran to him that misused his brother, taking his bow from him, giving him therewith a great stroke over the head, saying: In an evil hour (varlet) dost thou outrage my brother. The other not content therewith, came to the Prince, & they fought together: yet he that began the noise was glad to run thence, and by the way met their Governor, who said: Whether runnest thou; Master, quoth he, the Gentleman of the sea will beat me: then the Governor coming to the Prince, rigorously threatened him, saying. What; are you already so bold to beat your companions; you shall be talked withal by and by for it. When the Prince heard his threatening, he fell down on his knees, saying. If you will appoint that I shall be beaten, more gladly will I take it, then suffer my brother to be wronged in my presence. With these words the tears trickled down his cheeks, which moved pity in the Governor, wherefore he thus answered. If ever you do so again I will make ye weep in an other sort. The Queen who had heard and seen all the debate, was greatly abashed, wherefore they called the little boy, the Gentleman of the sea.   

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

CHAP. XXII.  
How Galaor came very sore wounded to a Monastery, where hesoiurned five days attending his health, and at his departure thence, what happened to him shall be declared in this Chapter.  
Five days together abode Galaor at the Monastery, whether he was conducted by the Damozell he delivered from prison, attending there the recovery of his wounds: but when he found himself able to wear his Armour, he took leave of the sisters, and road on his journey, even which way fortune pleased to guide, for he had mind to no part more than another. About midday he arrived in a valley, in the midst whereof stood a fair fountain, where he found a knight armed having no horse: Galaor marveling thereat, demanded if he came thither on foot, the knight returning this answer. Believe me no, but riding through this Forest to a Castle of mine, I met with certain thieves that slew my Horse: thus am I brought into the flat you behold me, by reason my servants hear not of my misfortune. Why? You shall have my Squires monture, answered Galaor. I thank you fir, quoth the Knight, yet before we part hence, you shall know the great virtue of this fountain, for there is no poison in the world so strong, that hath any force against this water, wherefore by reason of so sovereign a benefit, often times envenomed beasts do drink here-of, and are presently healed: beside, diverse of this Country use to come hither, and find redress for all their infirmities. In soothe you tell me marvels, replied Galaor, and seeing I am now so near it, I will alight to drink thereof as others have done. Good reason you should answered the Knight, because you are ignorant of coming this way again. Galaor leapt from his Horse, bidding his Squire alight to drink as he did: but while they were drinking, the knight clasped on his own head Galaors' helmet, and taking his Lance mounted on his Horse, when leaving the Prince drinking he road away, saying. Farewell Knight, I must be gone, tarry thou here to beguile another as I have done thee. Galaor lifting his head from the water, and seeing the Knight make such haste away, thus called to him. Ah villain, never did thief such a tteacherous prank as thou hast done: for thou hast not alone deceived me, but committed an act of great disloyalty, which thou shalt well know, if ever I meet with thee. Yea marry, answered the knight, rest yourself there, till you recover some other mean to combat with me.  
Gone is the Knight so fast as he could gallop, leaving Galuor chafing like a mad man, but seeing there was no remedy, he mounted on his Squire's horse and pursued him, till at length he came to a double way: when not knowing which of them to take, because he had lost the sight of him, he stood still in great pensiveness, till at length he saw a Damosel come riding a pace toward him, of whom he demanded, if she met not a knight mounted on a bay Courser, bearing in a white shield a vermilion flower. What would you with him? replied the damosel. I would quoth he recover again my horse & Arms, for they be mine, and by false villainies he hath carried them from me. When happened this? said the damosel: wherewith Galaor told her all the discourse. Well, quoth the damosel, what can you do to him being thus unarmed? for I think he took them not away to restore them again. I care for nothing else, said Galaor, but to find him once more. Trust me, answered the damosel, if you will grant me one boon, soon shall I bring ye together again, Galaor being very desirous hereof, agreed to any thing she would demand. Follow me then, quoth she, so turning her horse, road the same way she came, keeping company a while together: but the damosel being better mounted than he, left him behind with his Squire, & rid before so fast, that they had lost the fight of her, travailing the space of 3. miles without any news of her, but at last on a great plain they saw her return again, here you must note, that the cause of her riding thus before, was to advertise the other knight (being her dear friend) of their coming, and he had expressly sent her to fetch Galaor, to deceive him of the rest of his Armour: which he imagined easily to do without danger, seeing he had gotten the chiefest thing of his defence, and afterward he intended to kill him, or put him to some nororious shame. For this cause he tarried in a Pavilion, erected by him on the plain, and no sooner came she to Galaor, but thus she spoke. Gentleman, to the end I might not fail in my promise, I forsook your company a while, only to see if the man you look for, were in the place I left him or no: there have I found him little thinking on your coming, and in yonder Pavilion may you speak with him at pleasure. As thus they devised together, they came to the Tent, wherefore Galaor alighted to euter, but the Knight meeting him at the door, said. Sir knight, what moveth thee to come in here without licence, trust me it is but little for thy profit because thou must here leave the rest of thine Armour, or die presently. Thou mayst be therein deceived, answered Galaor, and the words of such a wretch as thou art cannot fear me.  
This reply very angrily incensed the Knight, lifting up his sword to smite the Prince on the head, but Galaor cunningly escaped the blow, giving his enemy such a stroke on the top of his helmet, as made him set one knee to the ground: then quickly laying hold on him, got the helmet beside his head, spurning him so strongly with his feet, that therewith he fell on his face to the earth. When the Knight beheld himself in such danger, he called with a loud voice to the damosel for succour, where-upon she stepped to Galaor, saying: that he should hold his hand, for this was the boon he promised to give her. But he being in extreme choler, gave no care to her speeches, bringing the Knight into such estate, as he left no vital motion in him: whereat the Domosell being ready to despair, breathed forth many grievous lamentations, saying. Alas wretch that I am, too long have I trifled time: for in seeking to beguile another, myself am worthiely requited with deceit. And thou traitor quoth she to Galaor, who hast thus cruelly put him to death, heaven send thee a more worse and hapless end, for by thee have I lost my only felicity in this world: for which (be well assured) it shall cost thee thy life, because thou hast broken promise with me, and in such a place will I demand revenge on thee, as nothing but thy death shall expiate my anger, wert thou a Knight of greater hardiness than thou art: if then thou make refusal there, I shall have more than just occasion to publish in all places, the pusillanimity of thy faint hearted courage.  
Fair damosel, answered Galaor, if I had thought his death would have been so grievons to you, I could have spared part of my displeasure, though justly he discerned no less, but you spoke when it was too late. The worse for thee, replied the damosel, because thy death shall recompense his. Galaor seeing she continued her threatening speeches, without any further answer left her, lacing on his helmet, mounting on the horse the dead Knight took from him: and having ridden a pretty while, he looked back to see if the damosel followed him, when perceiving her hard at his horse heels, demanded of her whither she travailed. With thee, answered the damosel, and never will I leave thee, till I have found opportunity to request the boon thou didst promise me, which shall be the loss of thy head by some evil death. Me thinks it were better, said Galaor, for you to take some other satisfaction of me, and happily might be more pleasing to you. Not any thing else, quoth she, thy soul shall accompany his whom thou hast slain, else never shalt thou accomplish what thou hast promised me. Well, well, answered Galaor, I must stand to the hazard of that as I may: thus quarrelling, they road on three days together, and entered the Forest of Angad●ze, an adventure there happening to them, whereof the Author hereafter maketh mention.  
But now he returneth again to Amadis, who taking his leave of Vrgandaes' Damosels, as you have heard before recited: road on till about noon time, when issuing forth of the Forest, he saw on a plain a very fair Castle, whereout came a goodly Chariot, so bravely equiped as ever he beheld any, it being drawn by two brave red steeds, which were covered with embroidered crimson satin, as it made a very dainty and seemly show. The Chariot was guarded by eight armed Knights, yet Amadis being desirous to see who was in it, drew somewhat near to lift up the rich covering, but one of the Knights came to him with these rough words: Keep back Sir Knight, and be not so bold to come thus near. What I do, answered Amadis, is for no harm. Whatsoever it be replied the other, trouble yourself no further, in respect you are not worthy to see what is here covered: for if you enterprise the like again, it will value your life, because thou must deal with all in this troop, and some such one is amongst us, as is able alone to get the mastery of thee, more easily than may we altogether use thee as we list. I know not, said Amadis, the Knight's valour you speak of, but hap good or bad, I will see what is in the Chariot. Herewith he took his Arms, which the two Knights seeing that road foremost, they ran both against him, the one breaking his Lance, and the other missing: but Amadis sped otherwise, for the first very easily he cast from his saddle, & the other he threw both horse and man to the ground. Then Amadis went toward the Chariot, yet was he stayed by two other Knights, one of them being likewise dismounted, and with his sword he gave the other such a welcome on the pate, as he was glad to keep himself from falling by catching fast hold about his horse neck, when the other four saw their companions so used by one Knight, they marveled not a little, and being willing to revenge their injury, altogether fiercely charged Amadis. With this last assault he found himself sore cumbered, for one of them tainted him in the shield, and another in his armour, as he escaped hardly from being overthrown: notwithstanding he held out valiantly, delivering such strokes to the first he met, as he fell beside his horse in a swoon. The three that remained turned their faces, seeking which way they might soon hurt him: but he snatched a Lance from one of them, which yet remained whole, and met one with such a full career, that piercing quite through his throat, he fell to the ground and gave up the Ghost.  
After his death, he came to another of them, and with his sword smote the helmet from his head: when seeing he was a very ancient knight, having his head and beard so white as snow, moved with pity, he friendly thus spoke. Father, henceforth it were good you left the use of arms to younger than yourself, seeing you have lived so long without gaining honour or commendation, marry your age doth now excuse ye. In good faith answered the Knight, your speeches are very contrary, because if it be seemly for young men to seek renown and fame by arms: it is more necessary that an ancient man should do his endeavour, to maintain those affairs so long as he can. Believe me Father, said Amadis, your reason is good. While thus they talked together, Amadis saw him who was first unhorsed, make great haste toward the Castle, and so did the other which were wounded: wherefore he approached to the Chariot, and lifting up the covering, beheld there a tomb of Marble, having a crowned King figured thereon, clothed in his royal ornaments, yet was his Crown and part of his head some what severed aloof from the rest. Hard by sat a very ancient Lady, and near her a young damosel of most excellent beauty, whom very graciously he saluted, speaking to the ancient Lady in this manner. I pray ye tell me Madam, what figure is this which you accompany so carefully? What Sir Knight? quoth she, (not knowing her gardants were discomfited) who gave you permission to see our secrets? None other, said Amadis, than my desire thus to do. In good faith, quoth the Lady, this is in you a great part of presumption, and I marvel that my Knights would suffer it: then putting her head forth of the Chariot, she saw some of them slain, others flying to the Castle for their safeti, & some ran after their Horses that were escaped, whereat she was so amazed, as she thus cried out: Ah Knight, cursed be the hour of thy birth, who hast done me this cruel outrage. Madam, answered Amadis, your people assailed me: but now may it please ye to satisfy my demand? Never shalt thou, quoth she, be resolved therein by me, having offered me such monstrous abuse: so saying, she caused the horses to high away with the Chariot. Amadit, beholding her so aggrieved, would trouble her no more but road on his journey: then were the dead bodies put into the Chariot, and presently conveyed into the Castle.  
Now had the dwarf heard all that passed between Amadis and the Lady, but he knew not what was within the Chariot, wherefore he desired to know of his Master. I cannot tell thee, quoth he, for she would make no answer thereof to me. In sooth, said the Dwarf, it is strange that women have learned to hold their peace. As thus they road beguiling the time, on a sudden they espied the old Knight now unarmed, gallop apace after them, crying so loud as he could to Amadis, that he should stay, which he did, when he delivered him this message. My Lord, I come to you by commandment of the Lady whom you saw in the Chariot, and she being willing to make amends for the injury she did ye, desires you to take a lodging this night in her Castle. Ah Father, replied Amadis, I found her in such grief for the debate between me and your companions, that I think my pre●●o● will rather be hurtful then pleasing to her. Assure yourself, said the knight, your return will be very acceptable to her. Amadis thinking a knight of such years would have told no leasing, was content to go with him, seeing with what affection he coloured his speeches and by the way he demanded of him, why the pictures head was made in such sort, b●… would tell him nothing, saying, the Lady would thoroughly resolve him in all. Being come to the Castle, he faw the Lady and the damosel awaiting his coming on the bridge, who bade him very heartily welcome. Ladies, quoth he, I would be glad to do you good, but 〈…〉 ye. When he was entered, he faw a grea● many armed men, who flocking about him, cried. Yield Knight else thou art but dead. Not shall you said he, with my will, kept me your prisoner. So he laced his Helmet, but he had no leisure as yet to take his shield, so sharply was he assailed by his enemies: yet did he worthily defend himself, sending them to the Earth he met withal, at length by the multitude of his assailants, he was driven into a corner of the Court, which he recovering, and keeping them therein all before him, endamaged them much better than he did before. But while he was thus combating, he saw the Dwarf and Gandalin carried into prison, whereat he conceived such displeasure, as being exempt from fear of death, he laid such load on his enemies, that no one durst come near him: albeit they were so many, as often times he was in danger to fall on his knees, yet looking for no mercy at such men's hands, would dearly buy his death among them, causing diverse of them to fall dead at his feet. And the divine bounty regarding him in pity, delivered him from this peril by the young beautiful damosel, who marking his brave behaviour in Chivalry, intended to save him, call one of her women to whom she said. The gallant mind of this Knight moveth me to compassion, so that I had rather all mine should die, than he, therefore follow me. Why Madam? answered the Gentle woman, what mean ye to do? Let loose my Lions, answered the Lady, that they may be scattered, who offer wrong to the best Knight in else world: and thou (being my vassal) I comm and there presently to go let them lose. Which she durst not deny, but immediately sent them forth of the Cave: then the Lady to make them retire that combated with Amadis) cried to them: Look to yourselves my friends, for the Lions are gotten loose by some mischance. The men being all afraid, fled up and down to shun the fury of the beasts, but the Lions made such speed after them, as diverse they overtook and rend in pieces. When Amadis saw himself thus rid of his enemies, seeing the wicket of the Castle was yet open, he went out and held the door fast to him, while the Lions devoured the other in the Court.  
In this manner Amadis escaped his bloody foes, yet was he so over-travailed, as he could hardly sustain himself: Wherefore he sat down on a stone, holding his Sword still ready drawn, a great part whereof was broken, and the Lions being yet so hungry, as they ran about the Court to seek way into the fields: nor was there any man in the Castle so hardy, that durst come down to shut them up again, no, not the damosel who had the government of them, for they were so chafed, as no obedience was looked for in them, nor the wisest of them knew how to remedy it: Except the old Lady should entreat the strange Knight to let them forth, imagining because she was a woman, he would grant her request sooner than to the rest But she considering her false dealing toward him, durst not adventure to move the suit: Yet when she beheld it was her last refuge, she put her head forth of the window thus speaking to Amadis. Although (Sir Knight) we have entreated ye very hardly, yet let your courtesy excuse what is past: and to save our lives, open the ga●e that the Lions may come soorth, to the end our present fear may be quallifyed, and they range the fields as is their desire. This favourable kindness let us obtain at your hands, whereby we shall yield amends for the wrong we have done ye: and on my faith I swear to you, our intent was no otherwise them to gain you our prisoner, until you consented to be our knight. Madame, answered Amadis, you should have laboured your determination by a more honest way: for without constraint I would willingly have yielded myself, as I have to divers Ladies, who know full well my service. Will ye then Sir, quoth she, open the gate? No, replied Amadis: wherewith she went from the window, and the young Lady trembling showed herself, thus calling to Amadis. Ah gentle Sir, such are within here, who could not suffer the injury done to you, the better they deserve to find some favour. With such seemly modesty uttered the Lady these words, as Amadis asked her, if she would have the gate opened? Yea marry Sir, quoth she, I humbly desire ye. Presently he arose to obey her request, but she willed him to stay awhile, till the old Lady warranted him assurance from the rest of her servants: nor could he but commend her wit and discretion, who getting him security from all the Castle, made promise likewise, that Gandalin and the Dwarf should be delivered from imprisonment. Then came the ancient knight, of whom we spoke before, and calling to Amadis, he said. Because me thinks (Sir) your Shield is greatly impaired, and your sword in like manner broken, take this shield and this mace, wherewith you may defend the Lions when they come forth: so throwing the mace and the shield down, Amadis willingly took them up, returning this answer. Let me never be in grateful to them that succour me in need. By heaven, said the knight, seeing you use loyalty to worse than beast, no doubt is to be made of your mercy to reasonable creatures. Amadis opening the wicket, the Lions furiously ran forth, and he entered the Castle, which they within perceiving, came with the Ladies to entertain him, desiring pardon for their offences committed, and presenting him Gandalin and the Dwarf. By my soul, said Amadis, never was I so misused upon no occasion, but seeing all enmity is overblown, you must give me a horse, for your servants (I thank them) have slain mine. Sir knight, answered the old Lady, it is now somewhat late, if you please to unarm yourself, and rest here this night, to morrow you shall have a horse, or what else you need. In hope you mean no worse than you say, quoth Amadis, I will not refuse your offer, because the time doth request no less.  
Forthwith was he unarmed in a sumptuous chamber, and a costly mantle brought to wrap about him, then returning to the Ladies who attended his coming, they were stricken into admiration of his excellent beauty, but much more at his valour being so young: and casting his eye on her, at whose entreatance he let forth the Lions, he reputed her one of the fairest that ever was seen, but he spoke nothing to her as yet, by reason her proceeded in this manner with the old Lady. I pray ye Madam let me understand, why the picture which I saw in the Chariot, hath his head so separated. Sir Knight, quoth she, if you will promise to accomplish the covenants, before you be acquainted with the accident: I will tell ye, if not, I pray ye hold me excused. It were no reason Madam, replied Amadis, to promise any thing overlightly, being ignorant to what it may relate: but if you will let me hear the covenants, they seeming reasonable, and in compass of a Knight's power to execute, fear not to tell me, for I will employ my uttermost therein. You have reason, answered the Lady: then causing each one to withdraw, except the fair young virgin, she thus began. Understand gentle Sir, that the figure of stone you beheld, was made in the remembrance of this ladies father, who lieth entombed in the Chariot, being in his time a crowned King, but on an especial festival day, as he held open Court and royal, he was assailed by his brother the uncle to this maiden, who came to tell him, that the Crown he wore was his, by as good right as he could claim it, they being both issued from one root. Then drawing a sword, which he had hid under his mantle, gave him such a stroke therewith on the head, that it parted in such sort as you saw in the picture. Long time before did the traitor excogitate this treason, and to the end he might the better execute it, he consederated himself secretly with certain of the King's servants, by whose means he waxed the stronger in his enterprise. But the King being dead, this disloyal wretch was honoured with the Crown, for the murdered Prince had no other heir than this his fair daughter, whom the aged Knight that brought you hither had in guard, he showing himself so faithful to her, as he conveyed her thence ere her uncle could take her, & performed such painful diligence, that he brought my orphaine Niece hither for her better safety. Afterwards finding the mean to recover the body of the King her father, each day we put into our Chariot, riding therewith about the fields as you saw us, we having all solemnly sworn not to show it to any one, unless by force of arms we should be compelled thereto: and though such a one happened to see it, yet would we not reveal why we conducted it so, except he would promise to revenge this horrible treason. Now if you be a noble Knight, bound to prosecute virtue, and on so just occasion, you will employ the forces God hath lent ye in a matter of right: for my part, I will continue as I begun, until I find two other Knights on this behalf that you three for us may confounded the traitor and his two sons, who will allow no combat, unless they fight altogether, which they have often published abroad: how such as will reprove their dealings, must come in this sort. In sooth Madam, answered Amadis, great reason have you to seek means of revenge, for the most famous injury that ever I heard of, and he who hath done it, surely cannot long endure without shame and misfortune, because heaven scorneth such monstrous actions: but if you can bring it to pass, that one after another they will come to, the combat, by the help of God I shall dispatch them. Ah sir, quoth she, they will never consent hereto. What would you have me do then? (replied Amadis.) Marry if it stand with your liking, said the Lady, a year 〈◊〉 to repair hither again, if you live so long, you shall find some other here, for by that time I hope to get two knights more, and you the third to maintain this quarrel, I promise ye, said A●●dis, not to fail in this request, therefore never trouble yourself to seek other twain, because I mean to bring them with me, yea, such as shall well defend the right of this Lady, and revenge the treason done the king her Father. These words he spoke in respect he hoped ere then to find his brother Galaor, and intended to bring his Cousin Agraies with him, by whose assistance he doubted not to finish the enterprise. Right humbly the Ladies thanked him for his good will, and because, quoth they, they whom you must deal withal are valiant, rough, & expert in Arms, as any the circle of the world enjoyeth: we request your choice may be made of such Knights, as shall be able to run through this work. Believe me Ladies, answered Amadis, if I had found one I am in search of, I would not stand long studying for the third, were our enemy's Devils and no Men. Tell us then gentle Sir, said the Lady, if you please, of what Country you are, and where we may find you in time of our need? Madame, quoth he, I am of King Lisuarts Court, Knight and servant to his Queen Brisana.  
By this time was supper ready, and the tables covered, wherefore they broke off talk and went into a very fair Hall, where such good cheer and honour was made him, as might be devised, even until the hour of rest came. The good night being given on all sides, by the damosel that let lose the Lions, he was conducted to his chamber, where she kep● him company a● indifferent while, and among other speeches, she uttered this. You have her near you my Lord, who succoured you this day more than you imagine. Wherein fair Lady? answered Amadis. Myself, quoth she by commandment of the young Princess, she pitying your peril and the wro●● offered you: was charged to let loose the Lions from their Deene. I never saw, replied Amadis, 〈◊〉 more wise and discreet Lady of her years. In sooth, said the Damosel, if she live, she shall be endued with two extremities, the one in beauty, and the other in wisdom. I desire ye, quoth Amadis, to thank her most humbly on my behalf, and how in acknowledging the good she did me, henceforth I will remain her Knight. I am well content my Lord, answered the damosel, to carry her this message, because I know it will be most welcome to her: so bidding him good night, she departed the chamber. Now was Gandalin and the Dwar●● lodged in the next room where they heard what had passed between Amadis and the damosel, and because the Dwarsse knew nothing as yet of his masters love to Oriana, he imagined some new affection was kindled between the young Princess and him, in respect of the offer he made to be her Knight. And to such end did he retain this opinion, as woeful Amadis afterwards had sm●ll joy thereof: for hereby he thought to receive a cruel death, as in continuance of this History shall be declared. The night being spent & bright day appearing. Amadis came to bid the Ladies farewell, requesting to know their names against whom he should combat. The Father, quoth the Lady, is named Abiseos, his eldest son, Darrison, and the other Dramis, all 3. most valiant Gentlemen atarms, excelling all other in that country: which like wise is commonly called Sabradis●, consigning on the Kingdom of Serolys. Very well replied Amadis, by Gods leave we shall one day see what they can do. When he was armed, as he mounted on a lusty courser, the ancient Lady had given him, the young Princess presented him a goodly Sword, which sometime belonged to the King her Father, saying. Sir Knight, I pray ye henceforth (for my sake) to wear this Sword so long as it will last, and I shall pr●y it may be helpful to you in all your affairs. I assure ye fair Lady, answered Amadis, for your sake will I carefully keep it, and tha●ke you therefore with all my hear: here of like wise ye may be persuaded, that I remain to obey you, and shall aid you in all things concerning your estate and honour. Well might it be discerned in the Lady, how these humble thanks and his former offer, pleased her not a little, wherefore the Dwarf, (who noted the gestures on either side) softly said to her, Madam, you have this day made no small conquest, having so good a knight at your commandment.   

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

CHAP. XXIIII.  
How King Lisuart being in the chase, saw a far off three Knights armed coming toward him, and what followed thereupon.  
IT chanced on a certain day, that King Lisuart summoned a meeting in Windsor Forrest, which was well stored with red Deer, and all other game needful for hunting. And as he was in chase of a Hart, he espied a good distance from him, three armed Knights to cross the way: wherefore he sent a Squire to them, with request that they would come unto him: upon this message they immediately obeyed, returning with the Squire to the King, and when they drew near him, he quickly known Galuanes, because he had seen him many times before: when embracing him, the King bade him heartily welcome, and the rest in his company likewise, for he was a Prince, that most graciously entertained all Knights, especially strangers: then he demanded what the other were. My Lord, quoth Galuanes, this young Prince is my Nephew Agraies, son to the king of Scots, and one of the best Knights in the world I dare assure ye: the other is Olivas, whom your Majesty hath well known heretofore. The King embraced them very lovingly, saying to Agrays: Fair Cousin, I must needs take this gentleness very kindly, that you would vouchsafe to see me. As for you sir Olivas, I thought you had forgotten us, considering the long time since you were here: and in sooth it is a matter very displeasant to me, when so good a Knight as you are would so absent himself. Dread Lord, answered Olivas, my earnest affairs kept me hence against my will, which hath made me the more negligent in your service: and yet I am not free from them, as (if you please) I shall let ye understand. Then he reported, how Galuanes and Agrays came to his Castle, by means of the damosel that conducted them thither, whom they very worthily delivered from death: likewise how the Duke of Bristoya treacherously slew his Cousin, for which he humbly craved justice, with free liberty to combat before his Majesty, where he doubted not to make him confess his treason. After the King had well pondered his discourse, and understood the hard dealing of the Duke: he was highly discontented for he knew Olivas Cousin to be a good Knight, whereupon he thus answered. Believe me seeing the Duke hath committed such a fa●k, & you request justice of me, assure yourself to obtain it, and I will send for him to come justify it in person.  
Presently the King gave over hunting, returning with the 3. knights to his court, conferring on many matters by the way: among which the King demanded of Galuanes, why the Duke of Bristoya would have burned the damosel whom they rescued. Because Sir, quoth he, she brought a knight named Galaor into his palace, and (as we understand) it was in the night time, and no other reason had he to allege. Why? said the king, Amadis is gone to seek Galaor, but since his departure we were put in a terrible fear, by Arcala●s, who said he had slain him. But are you certain sir, answered Agraies, that he liveth? Yea indeed, quoth the king, Brandoyvas and Grindaloya came hither since then, and they gave us such credible testimony of his welfare, as I may full well assure ye thereof: for loath am I to offend any other, because no one can desire his good and honour more than I do. It is the argument of your good nature replied Agrays, likewise in respect of his bounty and valour, he deserveth to be loved of you, even with like affection as good men wish to their like.  
By this time are they come to the Court, where these news were quickly brought to the Queen, which rejoiced very many, especially fair Olivia, who loved Agraies dearer than herself, and the Princess Mabila his sister was not sorry: for as she came from the Queen's chamber, she met Olivia, who thus spoke to het. You cannot choose (Madam) but be well pleased with your Brothers coming. Very true, quoth Mabila, for I love him as mine own heart. Desire then I pray ye the Queen, said Olivia, to send for him to her chamber, to the end we may have the mean to confer with him together, so shall the pleasure of you both be fully satisfied. That shall I do, answered Mabila, so going to the Queen's chamber, she thus spoke to her Majesty. It were good (Madam) you should see my brother and mine Uncle Galuanes, in respect they are come hither to honour you with their service. Sweet friend, said the Queen, I take it very gently that you have so well advised me, for I promise ye I am very desirous to see them: wherewith she sent one of her Ladies to the King, desiring him that they might come to her, which he liking very well, said. Gentlemen, my Queen is desirous to see you all three, let me then request your consent herein. You must judge if Agraies liked this motion, because he certainly knew to find there, the princess Olivia, the choice Lady and Mistress of his heart. But when they came among the Ladies, their entertainment was good and gracious, especially by the Queen herself, who caused them to sit down by her, as meaning matter of more private conference. Many familiar speeches were entercoursed between them, and practising by all means to welcome them honourably: for she was the only Queen of the world that soon could win the hearts of Gentlemen, and therein took no little pleasure, by means whereof, she was loved of most and least, being reputed the most virtuous Lady living.  
Now had Olivia made choice of her place next Mabila, thinking Agrays would soon come to his sister when he left the Queen: but while he beguiled the time with her, his eye glanced on the object of his heart, which he being unable to dissemble, was compelled to a sudden alteration of countenance, and could not withdraw his looks from the Adamant of his thoughts: which the Queen somewhat noted, yet imagined his Sister Mabila was the cause, and that he was desirous to talk with her, wherefore she thus spoke to him. My Lord Agraies, will ye not see your sister whom you love so dearly? Yes Madam, quoth he, so it please you to give me leave? Here-with he arose and came to Mabila who stepping forward to meet him you must think Olivia was not one jot behind her, but welcomed him both with semblable reverence. But Olivia loving him as you have heard, (overmastring her will with reason, as a most wise & well advised Princess) gave little in outward show: till after sundry amiable speeches passing between them three, they had some leisure to stand a while asunder from all the rest. Yet did Agraies keep near his Mistress, taking her by the hand, and playing with her fingers often sent her a sweet kiss in imagination: so that by entire regarding her, he was transported with such singular delight, as he neither heard or made any answer to his sister. She being ignorant as yet of his disease, knew not well what to think, for notwithstanding all her courteous speeches, his mind was otherwise busied then on her: yet in the end she discovered the cause of this sudden mutation, perceiving that Olivia and her brother were surprised with each others love. Whereupon she thought it best to favour them with more libery, feigning a desire to speak with her Uncle Galuanes, which she prettily coloured in this manner. Brother, quoth she, I pray ye entreat the Queen that my Uncle may come hither, because it is long time since I saw him, and I have, somewhat to acquaint him with all secretly. I hope to obtain so much of her, answered Agrays: whereupon he went to the Queen & thus spoke. Madam, if you could, spare mine uncle a little, you might do his Niece a very great pleasure, for she is desirous to talk with him. And reason good, said the Queen: at which words Galuanes went with him, which Mabila seeing, she humbly met him, making great reverence, when Galuanes using the like to her, began in this manner. Fair Niece, I am glad to see you in such good disposition: but tell me I pray ye, do you like Scotland or this Country better? We shall confer, quoth she, more conveniently at the window, because I have many things to tell ye, which were needless for my brother to understand: nor shall he, they being of such importance as they are. These words she uttered smiling, and with a marvelous good grace: chiefly because her brother might court his friend alone. And well said Niece, answered Galuanes, our secrets are so great, as they must needs be kept from him. So taking her by the hand, they went aside to one of the windows, by means whereof, Agraies and Olivia were left alone: When the Prince perceiving he had liberty to speak, trembling in abundance of affection, he began thus. Madam, to accomplish your commandment when you parted from me, as also to satisfy my heart which never enjoyeth rest, but in the gracious contentment, conveyed thereto through mine eyes by your presence, I am come hither to serve and obey you: assuring you on my Faith, that being near your person, my spirits seek themselves vivified in such sort, as they suffer with great strength the anguishs of continual affection, which makes them dead in time of your absence. Therefore I desire ye (if it be your pleasure) to limit me some better hap hereafter, in place where I may often see and do you service: And as he would have proceeded further, Olivia interrupted him in this manner. Alas my Lord, I am so assured of the love you bear me, and also of the grief you endure, we being absent one from another: as no other proof is required, than what mine own heart doth plainly testify, smothering a displeasure worse than death itself: whereto oftentimes I could very gladly submit myself, did not a cheerful hope rebacke this despair, how one day our love shall meet together with happy contentation. And persuade yourself, that I daily travail in remembrance of our mutual love: mean while (sweere friend) remporize and dismay not. Mistress, said Agrays, you have already so bound me to you, as I must (in duty) temporize till time you please, but I desire ye to consider, how I have no forces, but such as you must fortify me withal: so that if you cou●…y your graces to me as you have beg●… I shall have strength to sorue according to your deserts. While I live my Lord, quoth she, never will I fail ye, be you then so well advised, as every one may love and esteem yet: whereby I may strive to love you more than any other can, in respect you are none of theirs, or your own, but mine only. And if it happen some to speak of you, you must think I receive incomprehensible joy therein, for it cannot be without recital of your haughty courage & chivalry: yet my heart dreading the dangerous occurrences, which may ensue by over bold venturing, accompanieth the former pleasure with as great a pain. Agraies abashed to hear himself so praised, veiled his looks, and she loath to offend him, altered her speech, demanding what he was determined to do. On my faith, Madam, quoth he, I will do nothing but what you please to command me I will then, said Olivia that henceforth you keep company with your cozen Amadis, for I know he loveth you entirely, and if he counsel you to be one of this ●ou●●, deny it not. Believe me (Madam) answered Agrayes, both you and such good counseling will I obey: for setting your divine self aside, there is no man living whom I will more credit with mine affairs, than my honourable cozen Amadis.  
At these words the Queen called him and Galuanes likewise, having hnowledge of him in her father's kingdom of Denmark, where he performed many brave deeds of arms: and likewise in Norway, so that fame reported him a right good Knight. They being with her, the Queen remembered Galuanes of her ancient acquaintance, at which instant the Princess Oriana came to them, wherefore Agraies arose to salute her, leaving Galuanes with the Queen, and settled himself to confer with Oriana● who entertained him marvelous kindly, as well for Amadis sake whom he loved, as also the courtesy he showed her for Scotland, when king Lisuart left her there at his return from Denmark, as you have heard before declared: the Princess speaking to Agrays. cozen, we have daily desired your presence I here, 〈…〉 your sister, who nor many days since was in great grief, by 〈◊〉 news that came hither of Amadis death your kinsman, as truly you would have wondered 〈…〉. Good reason had she Madam, quoth Agrays; to be sorrowful, and nor she alone, but all the rest of his ●●●age were bound to no less: knowing when our cozen dieth, the chief and most excellent of 〈…〉, y●● the best 〈◊〉 that 〈…〉 mour on his body, and you must think, his death would have been avenged and accompanied with many other. Ah, said she, the villain Arcalaus shrewdly affrighted us, and evil death betid him, for troubling this royal Court in this sort.  
By this time the King was ready to the table, wherefore he sent for the three knights from the Queen, commanding them to sit down by him in company of many great Lords and Barons. And as the service came in, two Knights entered the hall, who falling on their knees before the King, the first of them thus spoke. God prospet your Majesty with increase of joy and honour, most humbly I desire to know, if Amadis of Gaul be in this Court. Not at this present, answered the King, but we could wish he were here. Right glad would I be, said the Knight, to find him, because by his means I hope to recover what I am now far from. Tell us my friend, quoth the King, if you please, who you are. My Lord, replied the stranger, I am a sad Knight named Angrioted ' Estranaus, and this other is my brother, when King Arban of Norwales (who was there present) heard him speak of Angriote, he started from the table, and stepping to the King, said. Doth not your Majesty know Sir Angriote? such as have dealt with him, will say he is one of the best knights in your Kingdom. My friend, quoth the king to Angriote, I pray you arise and pardon me, if I have not honoured you according to your deserts: for the fault was only committed through ignorance, but be sure you are welcome & that with heart, but say I desire ye, how came you acquainted with Amadis. My Lord, replied Angriote, I have known him no long time, and my first acquaintance was very dearly bought, for I never thought to die till I was wounded: but he that did me the harm, promised afterwards to give me help, which is very needful now to cure me: hereto he added the whole accident as you heard it before. In sooth, said the king, I would be glad these matters should have a good end, but now come sit down with us to dinner, afterward we will consider thereon as we may. Next to king Arban was Angriote placed, and as they were about to rise from the table, Dardan the Dwarf to Amadis entered the hall: whom Angriote knowing, called him, demanding where he had left his Master, because he saw him last in his company. Sir, quoth the Dwarf, wheresoever I have left him, he maketh good account of you: then falling on his knee before the King, he thus began. Amadis my Lord humbly saluteth your Majesty, and all the rest of his friends in this CCourt. Dwarf, said the king, where didst thou leave him? In such a place my Lord, quoth the dwarf, where he is of good cheer: but if you would know any more; it must be in the presence of the Queen. With right good will, answered the King; and hereupon sent presently for the Queen, she quickly coming, being attended on by divers beautiful Ladies, the most part of them the amorous friends to the knights then waiting on the king, whereby they purchased leave (during the dwarfs discourse) to devise with them, at better leisure, than longtime before they could: but the Dwarf beholding the Queen present, thus proceeded. Madame, my Lord and master Amadis in all humble reverence saluteth your excellency, commanding me to tell ye, that he hath found Prince Galaor his brother he sought for. Now trust me, said the Queen, I am heartily glad thereof. But on my credit Madam, quoth the Dwarf, never was heard of such a perilous meeting of two brethren, for if God had not the better provided, both the one and the other had never been seen again, so near were they both at the point of death: but by hap a good Knight arrived there, who names himself Balays, and he found the means to agree them. Then told he all the whole accident, how Balays slew the Damosel that procured their quarrel, for which, Balays was highly commended of them all. But where hast thou left them replied the Queen? At the Castle of Carsanta Madam, said the Dwarf, where Balays dwelleth, from whence I was dispatched hither with this message. But tell me Dwarff, quoth the Queen, what thinkest thou of Galaor? I think Madame answered the Dwarf, that he is one of the goodliest knights in the world, carrying a resolution not one jot inferior to the best: and did you see him in company of my Lord, you could make little difference between them.  
I marvel said the Queen that they come not hither. Assure your sefle, replied the Dwarf, no sooner shall they recover health, but they will be here with you, for so they expressly commanded me to tell ye. So joyful was the King hereof, that he minded to keep open Court after they were come: commanding his Lords & Barons not to depart his Court, whereto they all willingly condescended. He likewise desired the Queen, to send for all the chief Ladies in the Realm: For the more honourably quoth he, you are attended on by Ladies, the more Knights shall they find here to deserve their love, on whom I will bestow many rich gifts and presents.   

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

CHAP. XXXII.  
How King Lisuart departed from Windsor to the City of London, there to hold open and royal Court.  
IN the beginning of this book it hath been declared, how the divine bounty calling Lisuart to the Realm of great Britain, soon after of a disinherited Prince, made him the peaceable King of such a Monarchy, by the death of his elder brother Falaugris, who died without any heir of his body begotten. Likewise how he was reputed such a great Lord through the world, as many Knights came from strange Countries to serve him, not thinking themselves happy, except they might be named Knights of his Court. But within a while after, whether this fortunate king forgot the author of his good, or else it happened by divine permission: this happy Realm fell into persecution, and the illustrious state of King Lisuart was troubled and obscured, that all men might know: how he only is Lord and King of all living creatures, who exalteth and abaseth when him pleaseth, according as you shall here understand. For King Lisuart having concluded, to hold the most royal and stately Court, that ever king did in the Realm of great Britain, commanded that on the 5. day following, all the Lords of his Kingdom should appear personally at London, there to determine on matters of chivalry, which he intended to maintain with all honour might be devised. But in the self same place, where he thought the greater part of the world should yield him obeisance, began the first mutabilities of Fortune, bringing his estate and person in danger of utter ruin, according as you shall understand at large.  
King Lisuart departing with all his train from Windsor, to keep his Court at the famous City of London, it was wonderful to behold the Lords, Ladies, and Gentlewomen that gave their attendance, especially so many young Gentlewomen being there present: some to regard the magnificeuce of the Court, other to do service to their lovely mistresses, and nothing now generally minded but pastime and pleasure. The King likewist (for greater majesty of his Court) ordained that none of this assembly should lodge in the City, but to erect their Pavilions in the fields and meadows, along the banks that hemmed in the fair river of Thames, lest the extreme heat might be hurtful to them: all which being done according to appointment, the fields seemed as a most royal Camp, or as if the greater part of the world were there assembled. But because the king arrived there two or three days before the feast, he went to his Palace, accompanied only with his Queen, Amadis, Galaor, Agraies, Don Galuanes, and certain other his most favoured: the rest kept themselves in their tents, according as the harbingers had in quarters limited them. With sundry sorts of pastimes was the King entertained, which continued till fortune (envying his felicity) changed them into grief & tears: by the means of a Lord, no subject to the King, but his nearer neighbour than friend, named Barsinan, a man opulent in riches, and endued with few virtues, as may be gathered by the matter ensuing.  
This Barsinan was Lord of a Country, called Sansuegua, and very familiar with Arcalans the enchanter, who not long before came to him, and conferred with him in this manner. My Lord, quoth he, the great desire I have to do you service, hath made me invent the mean (if you like thereof) to deliver in short time the Realm of great Britain quietly into your hands, without much hazarding your person, or any great expense. When Barsinan (who was a very ambitious man) heard the words of Arcalaus, who promised to make him King if he would: he thus replied. In good faith, my dear friend Arcalaus, if thou canst perform the thing thou vauntest of, no fear shall hinder me to hazard my person, much less will I reckon of expense, if I see any likelihood in the compass. It is a thing, said Arealaus, very easy to be done, and presently shall you understand by what means: provided, that you swear to me, after you are seated in the regiment, to make me superintendent and chief master of your household. That will I, answered Barsiinan, with any thing else thou shalt desire. Mark then the platform, quoth Arcalaus. You know how King Lisnart hath openly published, this feast of september to hold open Court, whether you must go well accompanied with knights, then shall I order the matter in such sort, that I will carry away the King prisoner, no man alive being able to succour him: in like manner will I carry thence his Daughter, whom you shall take to wife, and afterward will I send ye the King's head. Thus in respect the Princess is right heir to the Crown, and you enjoying her in Marriage, being well accompanied with Knights as I told ye: easily may you make seizure on the Realm, nor shall you find any to speak against it. In sooth, answered Barsinan, if such an enterprise might sort to effect, I would make thee more rich and mighty then ever were any of thy lineage, as also the chief commander my house. It sufficeth said Arcalaus, yourself shall soon perceive that seldom I enterprise any thing but it comes to pass: then fail not to be present in the assembly at London. So came the traitor Barsinan to King Lisuart, seighning his intent to do him honour, wherefore the King sent many of his knights, entertaining him as a most noble friend, appointing his lodging, and all things else necessary for him, and being with the King in his palace, he entered into these speeches. My Lord, understanding what royal magnificence you mean to keep in your Court, as also the good Knights and brave men were here to be seen, this day I intended to honour you with my person: not as your vassal or subject, holding my Country of God and by the Sword, but as your good neighbour and friend, if you please. Trust me, quoth the King, you do me very great pleasure and honour, and I thank you for this gentle pains, that you would be seen in so good company: assuring you Lord Barsinan and my friend, this courtesy shall be remembered in what I may, for I make very especial account of you. Your Majesty dealeth very kindly with me, replied Barsinan, and I protest on my faith, to be ready in counseling your affairs for the best, according as I have a long time desired. See how the traitor lied in every word, but the good king misdoubting nothing, requited his offer with many thanks, and to do him the greater honour, appointed his lodging in his own Palace, himself and his Queen going forth of the City with their Tents and Pavilions, immagining he could not do too much for the traitor. And first he acquainted him with the whole enterprise, and wherefore he caused this great assembly, declaring the names & Sir names of the best commended Knights, their haughty prowess and resolutions, among whom he forgot not Amadis and Galaor, whose hardiness was impossible to be equalled, they two being accomplished with all the virtues required in Chivalry. When the king was withdrawn to his Tents, and Barsinan to the Palace, he began to consider on the strength of his Majesty, as also the love and obeisance so many great Princes showed him: which made him unable to enjoy and rest, and often times he repented his foolish enterprise, seeing how hard is would prove in execution.  
Now he minded to alter his determination, when suddenly another opinion entered his brain, so that wavering up and down in his thoughts, he could not resolve one any certainty. On the next morning he came to the King, who was now clothed in his royal ornaments, because it was the first day of open Court: and he commended one to go to the Queen, willing her to send him the Crown he had of the Knight, and she to cloth herself in the sumptuous mantle. Hereupon she presently sent for the coffer, and opening it, found nothing therein, whereat she was greatly amazed, considering she trusted no body with the key thereof, but her own self, and evermore carried it about her. But knowing not how to remedy this mishap, she acquainted the King therewith, who in great displeasure came to her, saying. I marvel Madam you have kept so badly, the jewel which would have so greatly honoured this time, considering under what condition it was left with us. On my faith my Lord, quoth she, I know not what to say, I found the coffer fast locked, and none but myself hath kept the key of it. But in a dream this last night, me thought a damosel willed me to show it her, which I did: afterward she demanded the key, and I gave it her, when opening the Coffer, she took forth the Mantle and the Crown, locking it again, and laying the key where I took it. This done, she put the Mantle about her, and the Crown on her head, they beseeming her so well, as I received great pleasure in beholding her, and thus she spoke. That herself, or she from whom she came, before five days, should rule in the Country of a mighty King, who at this time laboured to defend it, and to conquer it from other. Hereupon I demanded what she was, and she answered: You shall know at the time I have spoken of. So she vanished from me with the Crown and the Mantle: but on my faith I know not if this vision came to me sleeping, or whether it be of truth. The King was now in greater marvel than before, willing her to dissemble the matter, and not to reveal it to any body: then taking her by the hand, they left the chamber, coming among the knights and Ladies in the place appointed for the ceremonies of the Day, where sitting down in the 2. chairs of state, the King called his Knights about him, and the Queen her Ladies, with whom she communed. Now had his Majesty given order, that nearest his person should be Amadis, Galaor, Agraies and Don Galuanes, and at his back King Arban of Norwales, well armed, holding his Sword ready drawn, and two hundred Knights for his guard, then by a Herald he commanded silence. But as the King began to speak, there entered a most beautiful Lady vere richly attired, and with her twelve other Damosels in like bravery: for in those days, the great Lords and Ladies were wont to bring their people to such assemblies, clothed according to their own persons, without any difference at all between them: this fair Lady addressed her speeches to the King, delivering them in form following. My Lord, most humbly I beseech you to grant me audience, and give me reason in a matter of difference, which I have against the Knight that standeth by your Majesty, meaning Amadis. Longtime have I been requested by Angriot d'Estrauaus to be his wife, who I am assured is in this royal presence: hereto she added how every thing happened, the cause why he kept the vale of the Pines, and how Amadis travailing that way, made him perforce to abandon Arms. Never thelesse, quoth she, they departed friends, and Amadis solemnly promised Angriote, that he should enjoy me as his Wife: whereof when I attained knowledge, I withdrew myself to a Castle of mine, where I kept such a strong guard and custom, as it was thought impossible for any strange knight to enter there, without licence: but that knight coming thither, vanquished my guardants, and hath utterly abolished the drift I intended. Yet afterward of his own good will he promised me, to cause Amadis recall his offer to Angriote: then chanced an unhappy combat between him and this knight mine Uncle, who being at the latest extremity of his life, at my request he was spared, on this condition: that on the first day your Majesty held open Court, I should here present myself, to grant a request he must demand of me. To satisfy my promise I am come hither, and desire to know what he will command me: At which words Amadis stepped forward, saying. My Lord, the Lady hath told ye nothing but truth, concerning the several promises at the Combats: therefore am I ready here to accomplish, that Amadis shall call back his word to Angriote, provided, she perform her own promise. On my conscience, quoth she, if you effect what you have said, you pleasure me more than you can imagine: and to let you know I am ready to fulfil my offer, demand what you please, for if it be in my power you shall prevail. I request nothing else answered Amadis, but that you would accept Angriote as your husband, he loving you so dearly as he doth. Out alas, cried the Lady, what manner of demand is this? I wish Madam said Amadis, that you would marry with such a one, as is well worthy to have so fair a Lady. In sooth knight, quoth she, this is not according to the promise you made me. I promised nothing replied Amadis but I will perform it: for if I stand bound to you, to cause Amadis discharge his word to Angriote, herein I accomplish it. I am Amadis, and I revoke the promise I made him, wherein you must needs confess yourself satisfied: he gladly would enjoy you as his Wife, and I join with him in the same request, thus stand I free discharged to you both. May it be possible? quoth she, that you are the man so highly renowned? Credit me Lady, answered the King, this is Amadis. Ah wretch that I am, said she, now do I well perceive, that art nor cunning can prevent what God hath appointed, for I have done my uttermost to escape Angriote, not only for the evil I wish him, disdaining his good and virtuous deserts: but carrying this resolution, that keeping myself chaste and single, I would not bring my liberty into subjection: and now when I thought to be furthest from him, I am come nearer than ever I intended.  
Lady, quoth the King, you have great occasion to rejoice, for you being fair and rich, he is a young and brave disposed knight; as you are rich in goods and possessions, even so is he in bounty and virtue, not only in deeds of Arms, but in all other good qualities beseeming a knight, therefore your marriage together is very requisite, and I think all in this presence are of mine opinion: hereupon, she stepped to the Queen, saying. Madam, you are esteemed one of the most virtuous Princesses in the world, most humbly I desire your council what I shall do.  
Fair friend, answered the Queen, according to the reputation Angriote had gotten among the good, he well deserveth, not only to be abundant in riches, but to be loved of any Lady he shall choose.  
Why Lady? said Amadis, think you not that by accident or affection, my promise was made to Angriote, for had he compelled me to one of these twain, then might you well have condemned me of folly: but making trial of his valour and hardiness, yea, to mine own cost I dare assure ye, and knowing likewise his earnest love to you: me thinks the justice of the cause commands, that not only myself, but all such as are acquainted with him, aught to 〈◊〉 in seeking remedy for you both: in him, the extreme passions he endureth through your love, in you, by making his restless griefs known to you.  
Now trust me Sir, quoth she, such praise have I heard of your usage to every one, as I imagine you would not say (before such an assembly) otherwise then truth, wherefore following your counsel, as also the pleasure of the King and Queen, I will forget my former stubborn opinion, and am ready to accomplish what you shall command me. Then Amadis taking her by the hand, called Angriote, and presenting him his love, said: Sir Angriote, I promised to do my uttermost in this matter, say now, is this the Lady you would have? Even she quoth Angriote, is the life and essence of my Soul, and I am devoted to none but her. Then here I give her you, replied Amadis, on this condition, that you shall be forth with married together, and continue in honourable love to her as she deserveth.  
I thank you my Lord, quoth he with all my heart, and will observe your gentle commandment. Presently the King called for the Bishop of Salerne, who conducted them to the Church, where they were espoused in the presence of many great Lords. Afterward they returned to the City, and there the wedding was solemnised with great joy and Triumphs: wherefore we may well say, that hot men, but God appointeth marriage, who perceived the honest and continent love, which Angriote evermore bare to this self-willed Lady. For albeit he had her in his custody, never did he mean dishonourably against her, but by virtuous cogitations bridled unlawful desire: only to express how entirely he loved her, and by obeying her seveere charge, lost his life well-near when he combated with Amadis.   

CHAP. XXXIII.  
How King Lisuart would have the advise of his Princes and Lords, as concerning his former determination, for the high exalting and entertaining of Chivalry.  
AFter the end of this marriage, which by diversity of opinions caused much talk, as commonly it happeneth in such cases: the King commanded silence again by his Herald, when every one being attentive to hear what he would say, he thus began. My friends, no one of you is ignorant of the heavenly favour toward me, by appointing me the greatest earthly Lord, that liveth this day in the Isles of the Ocean: Wherefore I think it convenient, that as we in this country are the chief, so should we be second to no other Prince, in rendering immortal thanks by good and virtuous works, whereof we are now minded to determine. In this respect I entreat & command albeit Kings are the heads of their Monarchies, & you the members, that you would altogether take advise, and give me counsel even from your consciences, what you think most expedient for me to do, as well for the benefit of my Subjects, as also for our estate. And I assure ye, I am minded to believe your opinions, as proceeding from loyal and saithful subjects: wherefore again I desire ye, that without fear, each one would in particular and generally advise, what we ought to do as matter most commendable. Herewith he held his peace, and Barsinan Lord of Sansuegua was entreated by all the assistants to speak his opinion, which they did for no other reason but because the King would have every one honour him: whereupon, after many excuses on his own behalf, he arose from his seat, & making humble revorence, thus spoke: seeing it liketh you, I should first declare my censure, I desire the King and this company to pardon my ignorance, being unworthy of this honourable and gracious favour. But me thinks (under submission to his pleasure, and better advise of all you my Lords) that we should withdraw ourselves a while from the presence of his Majesty, where we may more freely conceive our several humours. This answer was generally well liked wherefore the King and Queen left them together, walking into another of their Pavilions: than Saroloys the Fleming, County of Clere, began in this manner. You have all heard my Lords, the good zeal the King hath to the government, not only of the common wealth in his Realm, but particularly to the honourable increase of Chivalry, which he desireth to continue in greater preeminenco than ever it hath been. And therefore my Lords humbling myself to better opinion, I think it good (to supply the intent of our King,) that we all aught to counsel him, to strengthen himself with men and money: for they are the sinews of war and peace, whereby, all Kings on the earth are maintained in their puissant authority. For it is most certain, that treasure is for Soldiers and men at arms, by whom King's reign, nor ought it for any cause to be elsewhere dispended, without committing of true sacrilege: for these affairts are termed holy, causing the state to live in tranquillity, and win glorious conquests of such as seek to invade them. Beside, to attain the better thereto, his Majesty must seek means to get all the knight is he can hear of, as well strangers as other: entreating them with liberality, to send his renown on wings through the world, which will fetch from the furthest parts men to his service, in hope of condign recompense to their labour. By their aid he may easily make himself Monarch of all the Princes by Eeast and West, for it hath never been read or heard, that any Prince could make himself great, except by the assistance of valiant and hardy Knights, having bought their vallotr in breve attempts. I term it bought, by favouring honouring, and distributing their treasure among them: that they may receive no occasion of dislike, but with unconquerable resolution to pursue victory. As he would have proceeded in further persuasion, the greater part of the Lords seemed to allow of his opinion, afferssing that better council could not be given: which when Barsinan heard, he requested audience for himself, and having grant thereof, he intended to reverse this first advise, because he might very hardly else go forward with his secret purpose: the silence being made, Barsinan thus begins. It seemeth by your countenance my Lords, that the County of Clares opinion is a grounded truth, for I see the most part of you aver the same, not having heard any thing to the contrary: notwithstanding, I hope to make it known to you all, and to the king himself hereafter, how much I desire to be friend him, you and the whole Realm. The county of Clare hath laid before you. that the King your master ought to strengthen himself, by the multitude & force of strange knights, whom he would have called from all parts of the world: in sooth if his opinion were to be credited, and you yourselves bound to follow it, I am certain in short time their number would be such, as your king, who is a good Prince and liberal: would not only congratulate them with what he was wont to bestow on you, but likewise take your own from you, and give to them, for naturally, matter of novelty and never seen before, is most pleasing. Hereupon it followeth, that whatsoever service you perform, be it of never so high esteemation, yet shall you fall into his disdain and oblinion, and stranger's life you from the seats, which now do promise your securest quiet. Therefore my Lords, before you conclude, this matter is of so great importance, as you all aught to be advised, by good and descreete deliberation in your grave judgements. I hope there is no one in all this assembly, that will presume I speak otherwise, than reason and the good love I bear ye doth admonish me, for I thank God I am such a one, as need to regard the greatest Prince my neighbour, no more than he doth me: but considering I am in so noble compay, and hare here received such favour and honour, I rather desire (God is my witness) I had never been borne, then to flatter men with vain persuasions. You must therefore (my Lords) diligently foresee, lest afterward you repent with too much leisure. And here he paused, for the mumur was so great among them, as they hardly gave him time to conclude, because the most part of them that accorded to the first opinion, were now changed and held with Barsinan, by means whereof, they could determine nothing, but it was appointed how the king should be acquainted with this controversy, that he might set down some better order: and after it had again been debated in his presence, he thus spoke unto them all.  
My honourable friends, I am sure that the love you bear me, & your forward desire in doing me service, hath brought you into these intricate difficulties: and I think there is no one of you all, but hath spoken so near to truth as is possible, whereby your judgements are so sound and good, as better cannot be heard from any. Notwithstanding, it is a thing most sure and certain, that the Kings of the earth are not esteemed great, by the number of places in their possession, but by the quantity and multitude of their people, over whom they rule and command. For what can one king alone do? it may be much less than the simplest of his subjects: and befide, it shall seem a matter above his power, to govern & maintain his estate without people, let him abound in never so much wealth: nor can these transitory gifts of fortune be better employed, then distributed among such as well deserve them. Whereby I gather, how every man of good judgement will say, that good counsel and strength of men, is the very treasure indeed. If yet you will have better instance hereof, look on the lives of great Alexander, strong julius Caesar, gentle Hannibel, and many other, whose names bear the title of immortality they by the treasure of men, and not money, were made Kings, Emperors & Monarches, for they could bountifully distribute their coin, to such as they well knew had best deserved it; and likewise would use them with gracious behaviour, as they might be termed Lords both in heart and hand, the only mean that made them be served with fedelity. Therefore my good friends, I desire you all, even in the most entire affection I can use, that you assist me to your uttermost, in recovery of good Knights, either of our own or strangers: promising you by the faith and word of a king, so honourably to entreat and esteem of them, as both they and you shall remain contented. Nor are you ignorant my noble friends, that the better we be accompanied, the more we shall be feared of our enemies, our state in greater safety, and yourselves more securely defended and loved. If then any virtue at all abide in us, you may easily judge, how new friends cannot make us forgetful of our old: let none then differ from the request I have made, but rather yield and consent thereto. Again I entreat ye, and expressly command, that each of you presently name such to me as you know, happily they being yet unknown to me: to the end if any be in this Court, they may receive such favour of us, as the absent may be the better affected to our service; likewise we entreat them, not to depart our company, without giving us some advertisement. All which was presently done, many openly called, and their names set down but because the tables were covered for dinner, the King arose from his chair, withdrawing himself into the appointed Hal●, where many Tables were provided, which he commanded to be well furnished with Knights. You may easily conjecture, that during the service, they diversly communed together, some on the king's deliberation, and other, of his magnificence, until the Tables were withdrawn again: when the King caused them all to be called, and thus spoke. You see my good friends, how earnestly I love and desire your company, wherefore you must grant me one request, not to depart this Court without my leave: for I would particularly know the service you have done me, and you taste such reward of my treasure, as may continue your love to me. Hereupon they were severally called by name again, and every one confirmed the king's request, except Amadis, because he was the Queen's knight: and all this while was she present at these matters, wherefore after the noise was somewhat appeased, she framed her speeches to the King in this manner. My Lord, seeing it hath pleased you so to favour and honour your Knights, me thinks it were reasonable that I should do the like to the Ladies and Gentlewomen, of what part soever they be. Wherefore I humbly desire one boon, with assurance likewise if you consent, these Gentlemen after you shall not deny me: considering that in semblable company, good things deserve to be demanded and granted. Then the King looked on all the assistants, saying: What answer (my friends) shall we make the Queen? shall we agree to her demand? Yea Sir, if it be your pleasure, answered they. What? said Galaor, were it possible to deny a princess so virtuous? Seeing you are all so well content, quoth the King, she shall obtain whatsoever she asketh. At these words the Queen arose, and thanking her Lord, said. Seeing it pleaseth you to give place and favour to my request, I desire henceforth you would do such honour to Ladies and Gentlewomen, as to take them into your protection and defence: maintaining their quarrels against all such as would molest them any manner of way. Beside, if you have made promise of some suit to a man, and the like to any Lady or Gentlewoman: you first shall accomplish the woman's request, as being the weakest person, and who hath most need to be holpen. This granted, hereafter they shall be better favoured and defended then ever they were: for villains that are wont to do them injury, meeting them in the fields, and knowing they have such knights as you are for their protectors, dare no way wrong them. In sooth Madam, said the King, your request is reasonable, and I think none will gainsay it: we will have it therefore registered and set down as a law inviolable.   

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A Table for the ready finding of the Chapters Contained in this Book, directing by the Number to every several Leaf.  

CHAPTER 1. OF whence the King's Garinter and Perion were, & the Combat between Perion and two Knights, as also how he fought with a Lion that devoured a Hart in their presence: with the success following thereon. Fol. 1.  
Chap. 2. How the Princess Elisena, and her damosel Darioletta, went to the chamber where King Perion was lodged. Fol. 6.  
Chap. 3. How King Perion parting from little Britain, travailed on his journey, having his heart filled with grief and melancholy. Fol. 12.  
Chap. 4. How King Languines carried away with him the Gentleman of the Sea, and Gandalin the Son of Gandales. Fol. 19  
Chap. 5. How King Lisuart sailing by the Sea, landed in Scotland, where he was greatly honoured, and well entertained. Fol. 24.  
Chap. 6. How Vrganda the Unknown, brought a Lance to the Gentleman of the Sea. Fol. 33.  
Chap. 7. How the Gentleman of the Sea, combated with the guarders of Galpans Castle, and afterwards with his Brethren, and in the end with Galpan himself. Fol. 39  
Chap. 8. How the third day after the Gentleman of the Sea departed from King Languines, the three Knights came to the court, bringing with them the wounded Knight in a Litter, and his disloyal wife. Fol. 43.  
Chap. 9 How King Lisuart sent for his Daughter the Princess Oriana, for that long before he had left her in the Court of King Languines: who sent her accompanied with the Princess Mabila his only daughter, as also a noble train of Knights, Ladies and Gentlewomen Fol. 46.  
Chap. 10. How the Gentleman of the Sea fought the combat with King Abies, on difference of the war he made in Gaul Fol. 55.  
Chap. 11. How the Gentleman of the Sea was known by King Perion his Father, and by the Queen Elisona his Mother. Fol. 60.  
Chap. 12. How the Giant bringing Galaor to King Lisuart, that he might dub him knight: met with his brother Ama. by whose hand he would be knighted and by no other. Fol. 66.  
Chap. 13. How Galaor vanquished the Giant at the Rock of Galteres. Fol. 76.  
Chap. 14. How after Amadis departed from Vrganda the Unknown, he arrived at a Castle, where it chanced to him as you shall read in the discourse. Fol. 81.  
Chap. 15. How King Lisuart caused asepulchre to be made for Dardan and his friend, with an Epitaph in remembrance of their death: and the honour he did to Amadis, after he was found and known. Fol. 91.  
Chap. 16. How Amadis made himself known to King Lisuart, as also the Princes and Lords of his Court, of whom he was honourably received and feasted. Fol. 100  
Chap, 17. What were the adventures of the Prince Agraies, since his return from Gaul, where he left Amadis. Fol. 108  
Chap. 18. How Amadis tarrying with his good will in the Court of King Lisuart, heard tidings of his brother Galaor. Fol. 206.  
Chap. 19 How Amadis combated against Angriote and his brother, who guarded the passage of the valley, against such as would not confess, that their Ladies were inferior in beauty to Angriotes choice. F. 122  
Chap. 20. How Amadis, was enchanted by Arcalaus, when he would have delivered the Lady Grindaloya and other from prison: and how afterwards he escaped the enchantments by the aid of Vrganda. Fol. 131  
Chap. 21. How Arcalaus brought news to the Court of King Lisuart, that Amadis was dead, which caused his friends to make manifold lamentations and regrets, especially the Princess Oriana. Fol. 136.  
Chap. 22. How Galaor came very sore wounded to a Monastery, where he sojourned five days attending his health, and at his departure thence, what happened to him. F. 141  
Chap. 23. How Amadis departed from the Lady's Castle, and of the matters which were occurrent to him by the way. Fol. 150.  
Chap. 24. How King Lisuart being in the chase, saw a far off three knights armed coming toward him and what followed thereupon. F. 154.  
Chap. 25 How Amadis, Galaor, and Balays determined to travail to King Lisuart, and what adventures happened by the way between them. Fol. 159.  
Chap. 26. How Galaor revenged the death of the Knight, whom he found slain on the bed under the Tree. Fol. 164.  
Chap. 27 How Amadis pursuing the Knight that misused the damosel, met another knight with whom he combated, and what happened to him afterward. Fol. 168  
Chap. 28. How Amadis combated with the Knight that did steal the damosel from him when he slept, and vanquished him. Fol. 174.  
Chap. 29. How Balays behaved himself in his enterprise, pursuing the Knight that made Galaor lose his Horse. Fol. 176.  
Chap. 30. How King Lisuart held open Court most royally, and of that which happened in the mean time. Fol. 179.  
Chap. 31. How Amadis, Galaor, and Balays arrived at the Court of King Lisuart, and what happened to them afterward. Fol. 182  
Chap. 32. How King Lisuart departed from Windsor to the good City of London, there to hold open and royal Court. Fol. 185.  
Chap. 33. How King Lisuart would have the advise of his Princes and Lords, as concerning his former determination, for the high exalting and entertaining of Chivalry. F. 191  
Chap. 34. How while this great and joyful assembly endured, a damosel came to Court, clothed in mourning, requesting aid of King Lisuart, in a cause whereby she had been wronged. Fol. 195.  
Chap. 35. How King Lisuart was in danger of his person and his state, by the unlawful promises he made too rash and unadvisedly. Fol. 201.  
Chap. 36. How Amadis and Galaor understood, that King Lisuart and his Daughter were carried away prisoners, wherefore they made haste to give them succour. Fol. 209.  
Chap. 37. How Galaor rescued King Lisuart from the ten Knights that led him to prison. Fol. 216.  
Chap. 38. How news came to the Queen that the King was taken: and how Barsinan laboured to usurp the City of London many days, in which time sundry great personages were there feasted, the greater part whereof remained long time afterwards. Fol. 227.  
Ch. 41. How Amadis determined to go combat with Abiseos and his two Sons, to revenge the king's death, who was father to the fair Briolania, and of that which followed. Fol. 230.  
Chap. 42. How Galaor went with the damosel after the Knight that dismounted him and his companions in the Forest, whom when he found they combated together, and afterward in the sharpest point of their combat, they knew each other. Fol. 235  
Chap. 43. How Don Florestan was begotten by King Petition, on the fair Daughter to the County of Zealand. Fol. 240.  
Chap. 44. How Galaor and Florestan, riding towards the Realm of Sobradisa, met with three Damosels at the Fountain of Olives. Fol. 248.   
FINIS.   

THE SECOND BOOK Of Amadis de Gaul. CONTAINING THE DESCRIPtion, Wonders and Conquests of the Enclosed or Firmeisland: As also the triumphs and troubles of Amadis, in the pursuit of his fairest Fortunes. Moreover the manifold Victories he obtained, and admirable services by him performed for King Lisuart: And his notorious ingratitude towards him, which was the first occasion of the broils and fatal wars that (no small time) continued between him and Amadis.  
Translated out of French, by A. M.  
TAM ROBVR TAM ROBOR NI-COLIS ARBOR JOVIS. 1610.  
LONDON, Printed by NICHOLAS OKES, dwelling in Foster-lane. 1619.   

TO THE RIGHT Honourable, Sir Philip Herbert, Earl of Mountgomerie; And Knight of the most noble Order of the Garter.  
AMadis, in his first Book kissing your noble hand, the second followeth to find the like favour, encouraged thereto by your ever known most honourable nature, and affable graces afforded to the very meanest deservers. The third and fourth Books successively ensue, to make up the first volume of so famous an history; till four more may in the like manner be finished, to present themselves to you their gracious Patron.  
Your Honours ever to be commanded. A. M.   
THE SECOND BOOK OF AMADIS DE GAUL.  

CHAP. I.  
The Description of the firm Island. Who made the enchantments, and placed those great riches which were found in the same.  
THere was a King in Greece, who was married unto the emperors daughter of Constantinople, by whom he had two sons, excelli●… in all perfection, both of body and mind. Especially the eldest (named Apolidon) who was so well brought up and conditioned, that he found not his equal in any virtuous quality wherein he exercised himself. This Apolidon studied all sciences, wherein he profited so much, that he was not only counted one of the best knights in the world, but also surpassed all men of his time for wisdom: excelling them in learning, as far as the moon exceedeth the stars in light, and chiefly in the art of Necromancy, by the which he brought to pass many great matters, which seemed beyond the capacity of men. Now was the King (father of these two young Princes) most mighty in lands, and wealthy in treasure: but very weak in body by reason of his age. Wherefore knowing the end of his days to approach, he would before his death, make partition of all his goods unto his children, because no contention or debate should happen between them after his decease. And for that end he appointed the kingdom to Apolidon, being his eldest son and heir, the other he invested with all his riches, and moneable goods, among which there was many excellent books, of inestimable value. Yet the youngest nothing liking this partition, beway led his estate unto the King, beseeching him most humbly to consider, that his patrimony being so small, he was not only left poor, but in a manner disinherited. Then the aged father perceiving the discontentment of his son (being the thing he most feared) was exceeding sorrowful, but yet would he not alter that which he had done, without the consent of Apolidon: who being advertifed thereof, came unto him, and in the presence of his brother said thus. It may please your Majesty, I heard within these few days that my brother is not content with that portion, which it hath pleased you to appoint unto him: and therefore because I know how grievous the same is unto you, seeing the brotherly love betwixt him and me likely to be broken: I most humbly beseech your highness, to take all that again which it hath pleased you to give unto me, and dispose thereof as it shall seem best to your own mind, for I shall think myself thrice fortunate, to do any thing that may breed your soul's felicity, and very well paid, with that which to him was appointed.  
When the King beheld the bounty of his son Apolidon, and the obedience he showed unto him, he was therewithal so pleased and exceeding joyful, that his soul (knowing it, could not leave his body in greater contentment) fled up into heaven: leaving his two sons in such friendship as he desired. Notwithstanding, after the body was buried, and all accustomed funeral rights ended, Apolidon caused certain ships to he rigged and furnished for the sea, wherein being embarked, with diverse Gentlemen of his friends, seeing the wind and weather favour them, he commanded the anchors to be weighed, and the sails to be let fall; the which were incontinently filled with so stiff a gale, as in less than one hour they were past the country of Greece. And yet Apolidon had not dertermined to bond his course unto any certain coast: but following his fortune, driven by the wind, he discovered the Country of Italy, whereunto approaching, he landed in a certain port thereof. The Emperor Sindan being ●…sed of his landing, sent many great Lords unto him, to request him to come to Rome: where he should be as royally entertained as might be devised. To which request Apolidon willingly condescended, and being there already arrived, the Emperor received him with honour, yet although at his coming he determined to sojourn no more than eight days with him, he changed his purpose, and remained there a longer season: in which time he accomplished such haughty deeds of arms, and behaved himself so worthily, that amongst the Romans he gained the reputation of the best knight in the world: and obtained the love of a young Princess, the one●●e sister to the Emperor, named Grim●●sa, the fairest Lady than li●ing. And although that their love was alike, yet was this fair Lady so straightly looked unto, that neither could her affection be satisfied, nor the common desire of them both be performed. Wherefore one day consulting more privately, than they ever yet before had done, love wrought such a consent in them, as they agreed to depart unto such a place, where they might without control, enjoy the fullness of their content▪ so as what they secretly intended, they as suddenly executed. For even as they had appointed it, so the fair Grimanesa came forth one night to meet her love Apolidon, who stayed for her at the waterside, having prepared ships ready for their flight, and wherein they presently embarked themselves. Then by force of the wind, they were in few days driven to arrive at the foot of the Firmeisland, which was then inhabited by a mighty Giant, whereof Apolidon and those in the ship were ignorant. Where-upon thinking they were in a place of safety, came on shore, and ●ents and Pavilions were set up, wherein they might refresh them: for Grimanesa (who was not used to travail by sea) was as weary as might be. But at that instant when they thought themselves most secure, the Giant which had discovered them, took them so suddenly, that Apolidon had scant so much leisure, as to arm himself: wherewith Grimanesa was so amazed, that she was ready to die for fear: for the Giant taking her by the hand, said unto Apolidon. Base slave, although I am not accustomed to be kind unto any, yet am I content for this once, to suffer thee to fight against me alone, on this condition, that if thou be overcome, this fair Lady shall be mine, and then afterwards I shall cause thee to be hanged upon the pole of this tent. When Apolidon heard that by fight with such a monster, he might both save himself & his mistress: his hart was so great, as he thought it a very easy matter to overcome him: and esteemed himself happy, that fortune had offered him so fit an occasion, as to make known unto Grima●esa how much was his courage, and how great was his Knighthood. Wherefore without longer delay the combat began between them, the which lasted but a while, for the Giant was pursued so valiantly, as he fell down backward. Then Apolidon straight stepped over him and cut off his head. Which the inhabitants of the Isle understanding, they all came and offered themselves unto him; becheeching him to remain with them, and to be their Lord and protector. Unto this their request he condescended: wherefore they conducted him with great triumph to the chief Fortresses of the Country, all which he found so well fortified, and furnished, as from that time forward he nothing feared the power of the Emperor, if he should attempt war against him for the taking away of his sister. Afterwards by the persuasion of Grimanesa he caused to be builded in that place, one of the fairest places that was to be found in all the Isles of the Ocian: the which he beautified so gorgeously, and furnished so rightly, that the greatest monarch of the earth would have found it a very difficult matter to have builded the like. But it chanced that fifteen days after his there arrival, the Emperor of Constantinople (his uncle) died without heirs of his body; by means whereof, they of the Country dispatched Ambassadors unto Apolidon to beseech him to take upon him the Empire, the which he willingly accepted, being (as most men are) never contented with their estate, but still desirous of change, especially of a petty Island, for an Empire. Yet Grimanesa sorry to leave so pleasant an Island, did most instantly entreat her Lord, that before their departure, (in remembrance of the pleasure which they had enjoyed in this Palace, the first witness of the full fruition of their loves) he would work such a means by his Art and great knowledge, that from thence forth, none might be Lord thereof, except he were as good a Knight as he, and as true in love as he was. Truly, Madam, answered Apolidon, I will do more for your love then so: for not only no man shall enter into this Palace except he be such a one as you have said, but further, no Lady, nor Gentlewoman shall set her foot therein, unless she be as fair, and excellent in all perfections as yourself. Then at the entry of an Orchard (planted with diverse sorts of trees) he caused a vault to be made: over the which he placed the image of a man made of copper, holding a horn, as though he would wind it: and upon the gate of this Palace he set up his own and Grimanesa her picture, so artificially wrought that they seemed very lively: right over against which, he planted an high stone of jasper, and about half a bow shoot off, towards the garden he set a pillar of iron five cubits high.  
These things being in this sort framed, he asked Grimanesa if she knew what he had done. No surely, answered she. I will tell you then presently said Apolidon: assure yourself Madam, that no man nor woman which hath falsified their first love, shall pass under this vault: for if they adventure to enter the same, the image which you see, shall blow such a terrible blast, & shall cast through this horn, such a flame, & stench, that it shall be impossible for them to pass on further: moreover, they shall be cast forth with such force, that they shall be thrown down and remain in a swound before the vault. But if it chance that any loyal lover, man, or woman, do assay this adventure, the image shall sound a tune so melodious, as it shall greatly delight the hearers: & there may such faithful lovers pass, without any impechment. Furthermore, they may behold our portraitures, & their own names written in this jasper, yet shall they not know by whom they were in graven. For trial whereof if it please you, we will prove the same forthwith. Then he took Grimanesa by the hand, and passing under the arch, the Image of copper began to sound marvelous sweetly, but when they came to the jasper stone, they beheld their names newly engraven therein, which greatly pleased Grimanesa. And to behold what would be the success of such as followed them, they called certain Gentlemen, and Gentlewomen to make trial of the adventure: but as they thought to have passed through the vault, the Image blew such a hideous blast, and cast forth fire, smoke and flame so horrible, that they all fell down in a swound, & were thrown forth most rudely. Wherewith Grimanesa began to laugh, knowing that they were in more dread than danger, than king Apolidon most heartily for that which he had done for her sake. But yet my Lord, said she, what shall become of this rich chamber, in which you and I have enjoyed such great contentment? You shall know by and by, said he. Then caused he two other pillars to be brought: one was of Marble, which he had placed within five paces of the chamber: and the other of Brass, was set five paces before that. Afterwards he said to Grimanesa: Madam, henceforth there shall neither man nor woman enter into this chamber, until that he who shall surpass me in prowess, and knighthood, or she which shall excel you in beauty be first entered into the same: but when fortune shall bring hither those which shall be worthy of a place so excellent, all men afterwards, without any let may therein enter. Then he wrote upon the pillar of Brass, these words: Every knight which shall make proof of this adventure, shall pass some further than other, according as they excel each other in chivalry & courage. Upon the Marble pillar thus: Let no man adventure to pass this pillar to enter the chamber, except he pass Apolidon in knighthood. And over the entry of the chamber: He which shall enter herein, shall exceed Apolidon in arms, and shall succeed him as Lord of this country.  
Before any man could come near the chamber, he must of force touch the two pillars, & there try his manhood. He likewise ordained that they should be disarmed which hereafter should adventure to pass under the arch of faithful lovers, if they received the repulse: and that all such should be driven forth of the Island, as false and disloyal men: but such as were faithful, should be entertertayned with all honour and service that might be devised. Such as adventured to pass the pillars to enter the forbidden chamber, if they did not pass the Brazen pillar, they should be used neither better nor worse than those which were false in love. If by chance they went beyond it, because there should be a difference between them and the others, their sword only should be taken from them. And if there came any better knight which attained not unto the Marble pillar, he should lose but his shield: yet if he passed on further, and entered not the chamber, his spurs only should be taken from his heels.  
And touching the Ladies and Gentlewomen, married or unmarried, which should prove the adventure of constant lovers, if they were repulsed, he willed that they should be constrained to tell their names, that they might be written up at the entry of ●●e vault, with the just number of paces that each of them had entered forward in the same.  
When the time is come (said Apolidon) that this Isle shall recover such a Lord as is promised unto it, these enchantments shall no more be hurtful unto any, and the place shall be free for all men: but yet it shall not be so for women, until the fairest Lady shall first be entered into it, who shall free the passage for all others. Then did he establish a Governor to receive the revenue of the country, until he should come that deserved it. And shortly after, having taken order for all his affairs, his ships being ready, they embarked, and had so fair a wind, that within few days they arrived in Constantinople, where they were most royally received.  
But because my meaning at this present is only to continue the deeds of Amadis, I will leave Apolidon to govern his Empire, to declare unto you what happened unto the same Amadis, and unto them which followed him at his departure from the Ci●●y of Sobradisa.   

CHAP. II.  
How Amadis, Galaor, Florestan, and Agraies, having taken leave of the fair Briolania, to return unto King Lisuart, were carried into the Firmeisland to prove the arch of Loyal lovers, and the other adventures in the same.  
IN the end of the first Book you have heard how Amadis and Agraies remained a while in the great City of Sobradisa, until their wounds were healed that they received in the battle against Abiseos and his two sons: moreover how Galaor & Don Florestan came thither afterward, & with what entertainment they were received. Now to continue our History you must know, That not all the hurts which Amadis had, nor any dangers which he doubted, no nor all the kind entertainments of Briolania, were once able to expel the continual remembrance of the beautiful Princess Oriana forth of his mind: but as her rare perfections seemed continually to shine before his eyes, so did his desire to behold her again, daily increase. Thus he endured an exceeding torment which the more he thought to hide, the more it appeared: yet was the cause thereof unknown, for every one judged diversly thereof, as a passion finely dissembled, proceeding from some excellent thing, the which he could well sustain but better conceal. In the end not being able to support this long absence, which deprived him from the sight of her, that wrought this his happy torment, he with his friends took leave of the Queen of Sobradisa, with an intent to return to the Court of King Lisuart. Notwithstanding they had no● road far on their way, but fortune offered them an occasion of longer stay, as you shall hear. It happened that by chance coming near unto an Hermitage, they perceived a Gentlewoman (accompanied with other women, & four Esquires) coming forth of a Church. Wherefore Amadis and his fellows being desirous to know what she was, road before and saluted her most courteously: and she which was the chiefest resoluted them, and demanded whither they were going, Gentlewoman said Amadis, we are going to the Court of King Lisuart, whither (if it please you, so that it be not out of your way) we will bear you company. I thank you heartily said the Gentlewoman, my journey is another way. But because I think you be wandering knight, who commoly search for great adventures, I desire to know if any of you will go to the Firmeisland, to behold such strange and marvelous things as there are to be seen. For I am the daughter of him that is Governor thereof, unto whom I am presently going. Fair Lady, answered Amadis, I have oftentimes heard of the wonders of this Island, and I should account myself happy if I might prove them as I desire, but I repent that I adventured them no sooner. By my faith said she, you need not be so sorry for your slackness: for there hath been a number such as you, who have had the like desire to adventure themselves, yet did they not think their coming thither so sweet, as they found their departure thence sour. I make no doubt thereof replied Amadis, because I have heard so much: but tell me, shall we go out of our way any thing far, if we follow you? Two days journey at the most, answered the Gentlewoman. I beleevee said Amadis, that he which will see the arch of loyal lovers, must turn upon the left hand and keep along the Sea side: under which arch no man that hath falsified his first love, may pass. You say true said she, and you may also there behold many other sights more strange.  
Then Agraies inflamed with desire to see such rare things, said unto his fellows: My masters I know not what you mean to do, but sure I intent to accompany this Gentlewoman, if it please her, and I will prove the wonders which she hath told us of. If you be so loyal said she, that you may pass under the enchanted arch, you shall find beyond the same, both many novelties which will greatly please you, and also you shall behold the Images of Apolidon and Grimanesa, who built that wonderful place: and that (which more is) you shall see your own name written upon a jasper stone, without perceiving by whom it is done. All the better said Agrays, I will if I can make the third that there hath entered.  
When Amadis understood the determination of his cozen, he was desirous to follow him, for he knew his loyalty to be firm both in deed and thought, which by all likelihood did promise him the mastery of the adveneure, before all others. But yet he dissembled his intention, and said unto his brethren, My friends although we are not amorous, as is my Lord Agraies, yet me thinks we should for this once do as he doth, and keep him company. Let us go said Galaor, and I hope that all will fall out as we desire, to our glory and our honour: hereupon they followed the Gentlewoman. Then Florestan, who had never before heard what the Firmeisland was, being alone with Amadis, said unto him. My Lord, I perceive you know all the wonders of this place, whereunto we are going, whereof I never heard any speech, although I have travailed many far countries. Truly answered Amadis, that which I know, I learned of a young Prince, my very good friend, named Arban of Norwales, who hath proved many strange adventures, and chiefly these of the Firmeisland, which he could not achieve, but was constrained to return with some disgrace. This Gentlewoman dwelleth in the place, of whom you may understand as much as you desire to know. Wherefore Don Florestan came unto her, and entreated her very earnestly, that seeing the length of their way ministered them occasion of conference together, she would be pleased to recite unto him, all that which she knew of the Island. I will very willingly declare unto you (said she) that which I have learned of such, as by their own reports were well acquainted with the place, and the wonders thereof. Then she rehearsed the particularities of all that which hath been before declared: whereat the more they admired, the more were they encouraged to adventure the enterprise of those strange things, wherein so many valiant men had received the foil. Thus together they road so long, that night coming, they were in doubt to go astray, until the moon began to shine: and then they knew that they were in a great meadow, in which they beheld many Pavilions set up, and people sporting all about them. Then said the Gentlewoman unto Amadis, Sir, because I see my father, you may if it please you, come fair and softly, and I will go before to advertise him of your coming, that he may do you that honour as you deserve. So saying, she galloped her horse, until she came unto the ●ents, where she alighted. Then she told her father, how these four knights had followed her, having a desire to try the adventures of the FirmeIsland, which he understanding, came to meet them, and received them very courteously: afterwards he led them unto one of the Pavilions, where they rested until their supper was ready. When they were set down, the governor of the Isle discoursed unto them the adventures of such Knights and Ladies, which had proved the arch of loyal lovers, and the other novelties thereof, until it was time to go to rest. Whereupon they all withdrew themselves, and when day appeared, they mounting all on horseback, road so long, that they came to a place which was in breadth no more than a bow shoot of firm ground, and all the rest was water. And they went on in this strait, until they came into the entry of the Island, the which was only five leagues in breadth, and seven in length. There might they see the sumptuous Palace of Apolidon, whose gates were open: and as they drew nearer, they perceived more than an hundred ●a●gets or shields, placed in three ranks, the most part leaning against two posts, and ten other nailed a little over them. But there were three which were very high above the rest, fastened upon another post which stood forwarder than the first, yet did they likewise differ in height, for the highest was a faddom above the middlemost, and the middlemost was a cubit over the lowest. Then Amadis demanded, why they were thus ranked. Truly, answered the governor, according to the valour and knighthood of those which would have entered the forbidden chamber, their shields are honoured: and these which you see nearest the ground, belonged to such Knights which could not come near the brazen pillar; but these ten that are higher came unto it, & they which ought these two other shields, which you see separated and placed above the rest, have done more: for they have passed the pillar, yet could they not come near the other of marble, as the other hath done, whose shield is therefore placed above these two, which are so much esteemed. Then Amadis approached more near to see if he might know any of them, for there was none of them, but had written upon them the names of such as heretofore did owe them: and he cast his eye upon the lowermost of the three, which hung by themselves over the other ten: which had in a field Sables a Lion Or, fanged and a●med Argent, with a Chief Gules: this he knew to be the shield of Arcalaus. Then he beheld the two uppermost, the lower bearing in a field Azure, a knight Argent, cutting off the head of a Giant, the which he remembered to be the shield of king Abies of Ireland, who proved this adventure, two years before that Amadis did kill him in Gaul. The third which was above all the rest, had a field Azure, three Flowers, or which he could not know without reading the superscription, which said, This is the shield of Don Quedragant brother to king Abies of Ireland, the which was set over all the others within these twelve days. For Quedragant behaved himself so valiantly, that he came unto the Marble pillar, whereunto none other had before approached. He by chance passed by the Firmeisland, in seeking for Amadis, with an intent to fight with him, and to revenge the death of King Abies his brother.  
Much amazed was Amadis seeing the shields of so many good Knights, which had all failed in their purposed enterprise, and he greatly feared lest he might perform as little as they. For this cause, he and his company withdrew themselves, to go toward the arch of loyal lovers, the which was showed unto them. Agraies suddenly alighted, and approaching near the forbidden place, he with an indifferent high voice thus spoke, Love if ever I have been constant, let me now be remembered. This said, he passed on, and entered under the arch. Then the copper Image began to sound so sweetly, as it greatly rejoiced the hearers: and Agraies stayed not, but went on until he came unto the Palace where the pictures of Apolidon and Grimanesa were, which seemed unto him, as if they had been alive. And he came near unto the jasper pillar, wherein he beheld two lines written. The first contained Madanil son to the Duke of Bargoine, hath passed under the arch of loyal lovers, and ended that adventure. The other was the name of Don Bruneo de bonne mer, or of the lucky Sea, son to Vaillades, Marks of Troques. Scant had he read the last line, but he beheld a third, which contained: This is the name of Agraies son to Languines King of Scotland. This Madanil loved Aquinda Countess of Flanders: & Don Bruneo, Melicia daughter to King Perion of G●●le. When Amadis did see that his cozen was entered without any let at all, he said unto his brethren. Will not you prove the adventure as he hath done? No, answered they, for we are not so much subject unto this passion, that we deserve to make trial of our loyalty. Seeing then that you be twain, keep you one another company, and I will accompany Lord Agraies if I can. Then he boldly entered under the arch, and as he passed, the copper Image sounded upon his horn another sound, far more melodious than he yet before had done. Moreover, in stead of fire and stinking flame, that it cast forth against the disloyal lovers, flowers and sweet leaves came forth of his horn, in such abundance, that the place were all covered therewith. But for all this Amadis, stayed not, but passed on even hard unto the Images of Apolidon and Grimanesa, the which seemed unto him so well form, as they wanted nothing but speech. When Agraies which was entered before, perceived him, he came to him and said, My Lord and cozen, me thinks we should not henceforth hide our loves from one another. But Amadis without any answer, took him by the hand, and walking together, they began to discourse of the excellency of the place. In the mean season Galaor and Florestan displeased with staying so long for them, did entreat Isania (the Governor of the Isle) to show them unto the forbidden chamber: the which he did.  
Whereupon Florestan said unto Galaor, my Lord, are you determined to try yourself? No, answered he, for I never desired to prove such enchantments. I pray you then said Florestan, to sport you whilst I have tried this adventure. Then commending himself to God, with his shield upon his arm, & his sword in his hand, he marched right towards the forbidden place. But he went not far forward, when he felt himself laid at so sore, and so often overcharged with the strokes of Lances and swords, as he verily believed that no man was able long to suffer them: notwithstanding bearing his head low (maugre all the resistance) he marched forward, laying about him here and there, but knew not upon whom. Yet he thought that which he did hit, were so well armed, as his sword could in no sort hurt them, and he passed the pillar of Brass, even hard unto the other of Marble, against the which he fell down, not being any longer able to stand up: for he felt himself so weary, and bruised with the forcible blows which he had suffered, that he thought he should die. And in the same instant he was so rudely lifted forth of the place, that he lost all his understanding: wherewith Galaor was so displeased, that he thought himself worthy of blame if he did not revenge his wrong. And therefore he betook him to his arms, and ran right unto the forbidden chamber: yet his haste was not so great, but that he was as suddenly resisted & smitten, and so violently laid a●, as very hardly he came unto the Marble pillar, against the which he leaned, thinking to take breath. Notwithstanding the strokes which on all parts lighted upon him, were so many and so weighty, that he was inflamed with rage in such sort as he went on somewhat further, hoping yet to withstand them. Then did he imagine his enemies to be so many, that for every one blow he had before, he now thought that he received twain, so as his strength quite failed him, and he fell down on the ground a great deal more weak than Florestan was.  
All this while Amadis and Agays beholding the pleasantness of the place wherein they were entered, perceived a new writing in the jasper pillar, which contained: This is Amadis of Gaul, the constant lover, son to King Perion. At the same instant was Galaor thrown forth from the pillars, wherewith the Dwarf began to cry: Out alas, my Lord Galaor is dead. This voice was heard of Amadis and Agraies, who presently came forth to see what the matter was, and they asked the Dwarf what moved him to cry so loud. My Lord answered he, I believe your two brethren are dead, in proving the adventure of the forbidden chamber: for they have been so rudely repulsed, as see where they lie without moving hand or foot.  
Trust me said Amadis worse could not have happened to thee. Then he went unto them, and he found them so sorely bruised, that they lay speechless. But Agraies (thinking because fortune had favoured him under the arch of loyal lovers, that she would be as favourable unto him against the peril of the chamber) without staying to behold his Cousins any longer, having his shield upon his arm, and his sword naked in his hand, bearing his head low, he ran right to the brazen pillar, yet had he not marched far beyond it, when he felt so many blows, that hardly could he resist them. But his heart was so great, as maugre all lets, he passed even unto the marble pillar, and there was he constrained to stay, having no power at all to stand any longer upon his feet, being so astonished that he lost his remembrance, and he was as rudely cast out as his Cousins had been before, the which Amadis perceiving, being much displeased, he began to curse the hour of that their fond enterprise: and approaching unto Galaor, who was now come to himself, he said. In troth brother I perceive I must of force follow, though I should die therein. Ah my Lord, answered Galaor, it should suffice you to take warning by our example, I beseech you fly such devilish forceries, for nothing but mischief can come from them. Come what will, said Amadis, accursed may I be, if I faint in the matter. Then drawing his sword, he well covered him with his shield, and having first made his devout prayers unto God, he cried, O my dear Lady Oriana, from you only proceedeth all the strength and courage that ever I had: I beseech you now not to forget him, who so constantly craveth your aid and good assistance. Which said, he ran so lightly towards the chamber as in spite of all impeachments he came without taking breath, even unto the first pillar, althought he felt so many strokes light upon him, that he did think he fought with more than a thousand knights together: yet his courage so much increased with the only remembrance of Oriana, that there were never any knight before which could come near him. Then was there heard the voices of an infinite number, saying: If this knight do not end this adventure, never may any knight perform the same. But for all these things he left not to pursue his fortune, for the further he went, the more increased his desire to approach the chamber: so as notwithstanding the force of the Devils, or invisible company which gave him many sore and heavy strokes, he gained the entry of the chamber, from whence he beheld a hand and an arm covered with green worsted to come forth, which drew him in. And presently there was heard another voice, which said: Welcome is the gentle knight that exceedeth him in arms, which established so many marvels in this place, who in his time was second to none, but this surpasseth him, and therefore the signiory of this Island of right belongeth to him, having above all other deserved it. He which had seen this hand, would have judged it to have been the hand of a very ancient man, it was so withered: the which vanquished away so soon as Amadis was entered into the chamber, where he felt himself so fresh, and in so good estate, as if he had received neither blow nor travel in coming thither. Wherefore he took his shield from his neck, sheathed his sword, and to Oriana he ascribed the glory, for the great honour which he had gotten: for he imagined that all his strength proceeded only from her, and no other. The most part of the Inhabitants in the Isle, with many other strangers had seen the prowess he had shown, and how the hand brought him into the chamber: especially having heard by the words of the voice, the sovereignty of the country was attributed to him, for which cause they all rejoiced very greatly. But none were so joyful as Galaor and his fellows, who in stead of emulation, (wherewith they might wrongfully have been suspected) they were all so glad of the good and honour of Amadis, as if the like had chanced particularly to every one of them: and they caused themselves to be carried to him in the chamber, where they were thoroughly and presently healed by the virtue of the place. Thither likewise came Isania Governor of the country, accompanied with many of the inhabitants, who all did their duty unto Amadis, as to their new Lord, under whom they hoped not only to live in peace and rest, but also hereafter to stretch their Dominions even over their bordering neighbours and further. Then every one might view the rare devices of this palace: amongst which there was a wardrobe (whether Apolidon & his Lady did most commonly withdraw themselves) so beautiful and sumptuous, as it was not only impossible to make the like, but also it was thought very strange and wonderful, how any man might imagine that he could build so rare a piece of work? ●…ing that they which were within, might see what any man did without very easily, but they which were without could not perceive any thing that was within the same. Thus was the firm Island conquered by Amadis, which had been 〈◊〉 thousand years and more without a Lord, since Apolidon had there set up his enchantments: and the next day the people came from all parts of the Island to offer their duty and homage unto their new Lord, who received them courteously. I leave you then to imagine whether Amadis had occasion to be glad and content or no. They which have oftentimes been crossed with adversity may better indge thereof them any others can: for they know how to bear, and when to bewail their misfortunes, more orderly than such who are accustomed with all prosperity & happiness. Nevertheless I know not whether of these two extremities are more commendable: for the one commonly draweth unto it an intolerable vain glory, and pride most damnable: the other a continual care fraught with desperation, very dangerous. Therefore every wise man (considering there is nothing permanent) will neither ●ee proud with the prosperity that favoureth him, nor appalled for any adversity that befalleth him: but he will swim uprightly as in a calm Sea between them both, without abusing the one, or affrighted with the other. The which 〈◊〉 could not do, when inconstant fortune made him taste these persons, which for him she prepared, even in the midst (as he thought) of all his prosperities. And 〈◊〉 as she beyond all measure 〈◊〉 red him, (holding him up by the chin) in all chances that happened to him, without crossing him in any thing whatsoever: in like sort did she turn her face from him, and brought him into such perplexity and sorrow, that neither force of arms, the continual remembrance of his Lady, nor the magnanimity of his heart were once sufficient to procure him remedy: but only the grace, and merry of our Lord God (who in pity regarded him) after he had sometime remained in the rock of adversity in sorrow and tribulatiou, as you may understand: from the which he delivered him, and placed him in greater ease, and contentment then before, as by the sequel of this history you shall perceive.  
You have heard in the first book of Amadis, in what anguish the Princess Oriana was, for the false report of Ardan the Dwarf, at such time as he returned back from his master, to fetch the pieces of the sword, which Gandalin had forgotten behind him at his departure from the Court: and how she sostered up in her mind the hate, which she had conceived against Amadis, not being able to accept any council either from Mabila or the damosel of Denmark, wrongfully suspected him of falsehood, who thought on nothing but only how he might serve and honour her with all faithfulness. Now it resteth to show unto you what happened thereof. Know you then that from the day, wherein this jealousy was first imprinted in her, it increased in such sort, as it wholly made her forget her accustomed manner of life, thinking thence forth on nothing so much, as how she might sufficiently revenge her on Amadis, who had (as she thought) so grievously offended her. And hereupon seeing he was absent, and that she could not declare unto him by word of mouth, the anguish of her soul, she determined to let him understand it by writing. So as one day amongst others, being alone in her chamber, she took pen in hand and writ this letter which ensueth.  
The letter of the Princess Oriana to Amadis.  
MY intolerable passions proceeding from so many causes, compelleth my weak hand to declare by this letter, that, which my sorrowful heart can no longer hide from thee Amadis of Gaul, most disloyal, and perjured lover-for sieing the disloyalty and inconstancy wherewith thou hast abused me (who am infortunate, and frustrate of all good hap, only in loving thee ab●ne all things in the world) which is now very apparent, chiefly in that sowrongfully thou for sookest us to go with her, who (considering her young years and indiscretion) cannot have that kindness in her either to favour or entertain thee: I have also determined for ever, to banish from me, this exceeding love which I did bare unto thee, seeing my sorrowful heart can find no other revenge. And although I would take in good part the wrong which thou proferest me, yet should it be a great folly for me to desire the welfare of such an unthankful man, for the faithful loving of whom, I hate both myself & all other things. Alas I now perceive very well (but it is too late) that most unluckily I entrhalled my liberty, to a person so ingrateful, seeing that in recompense of my continual sighs and passions. I find myself deceived, and shamefully abused. Wherefore I charge thee never to come in my presence, nor unto any place where I do remain: & be thou assured that I never loved thee so exceedingly, but now by thy ill deserts I hate thee far more extremely. Pack thee henceforth else where, and try if thou canst with thy falsified faith and honey speech, abuse others as unhappy as myself: and never hope that hereafter any of thy excuses shall prevail with me: but without further desire to behold thee, I will bewail the rest of my sorrowful life, with abundance of tears, the which shall never cease but by the end of  
Her who forceth not to die, but only because thou art her murderer.  
This Letter being sealed, Oriana called a young Esquire brother to the damosel of Denmark, in whom she greatly trusted, and commanded him very expressly, without staying one only hour, that he should go find out Amadis in the Realm of Sobradisa, and then presently deliver this Letter which she had written to him: but chiefly that he should mark his countenance whilst he read the same, and that he should bring back no answer, though Amadis would give i● him.   

CHAP. III.  
How Durin departed to go toward Amadis, unto whom he delivered the Letters from Oriana, and what hurt happened thereby.  
WHen Durin had at large understood the will of the Princess, he mounted on horse back, and hasted him so well that the tenth day following, he arrived in the great City of Sobradisa, where he found the new Queen Briolania, whom he thought to be the fairest Lady that ever he had seen, except the Princess Oriana. Then did he tell her how he was come to seek Amadis, but she told him, that now two whole days were passed since he and his fellows were departed towards Great Britain, since which time, she heard that they had taken their way unto the Firmeisland. Whereupon Durin without any longer stay, took leave of her, and road so long, that he arrived in the Island the same hour that Amadis entered under the arch of Loyal lovers, where he beheld how the Image had done more for him, then for any other knight that ever entered the same before, as it was told him. Now as Amadis together with Agrays returned to the succour of his brethren, Durin thought to have spoken with him, but Gandalin entreated him to stay until he had tread the peril of the forbidden chamber, being assured that he brought Letters to him from Oriana, the which perchance might have been a mean (as he thought) to cause him either to foreslow or to fail in the achieving of so great an enterprise: for Amadis was so subject to the Princess, as he would not only have left off conquest of the Firmeisland, but also of the whole world beside, if she had commanded. Wherefore after he had finished all the strange adventures, and the inhabitants of the Isle had received him for their Lord, Durin came before him. Then Amadis demanded of him, what news was in the Court of King Lisuart. My Lord, answered Durin, I left it even in the same estate that it was in at your departure. And as he would have proceeded in his speech, Amadis took him by the hand, and went with him alone into a very pleasant Orchard, where they walked together: then he demanded how he came to the Firmeisland. My Lord, said he, my Lady Oriana sent me unto you, for such affairs as in this letter you shall understand, the which he gave unto him. Amadis took it, and without changing his cheer, he turned his face from Durin, because he should not behold his colour alter, for his heart began to leap with great joy, so as he knew not well how to set his countenance. But this sudden mutation was as soon changed into a great despare, because, that reading these rigorous lines, which pronounced his banishment, it struck so great sorrow to his heart, as he was no longer able to dissemble his grief, but burst out into such vehement weeping, that he was all drowned in tears. Then Durin repented that ever he was the bringer of such heavy letters, for although the contents thereof were unknown unto him, yet because he knew not how to remedy it, he durst not come near Amadis, who was so confounded, as he fell prostrate on the ground, and in falling, the letters which he held, did fall forth of his hand. Notwithstanding, he presently took them up, and began to read them again: for the beginning had so greatly troubled him, that he had not yet seen the end. But casting his eye upon the superscription, which contained these words. She who forceth not to die, but only because thou art her murderer. He than fetched so deep a sigh, as if his soul had parted from his body, and there withal fell down backward. Wherewith Durin was greatly amazed, & ran speedily to help him, but he found him to move no more than a dead man. Wherefore fearing some great inconvenience, he thought to have called Galaor, or some other, yet fearing that thereby he might be blamed, he staed, & coming unto Amadis, lifted him up, who cried. Oh heavens, why do you thus suffer me to die, and have not deserved it? Alas Loyalty, what recompense dost thou offer those that never offended thee, now I see myself forsaken of her, for whose sake I would rather suffer a thousand deaths, than one of her commandments by me should be disobeyed. Then pitifully looking upon the letter, which he had in his hand, he said: Ah happy letter, because thou wert written by the excellentest parsonage this day living, and yet most unhappy, in that thou procurest the cruel death of the truest lover that ever served Lady, which death that it may be the sooner, I will never forsake thee, but will place thee in the nearest & dearest place that I have. So he put it in his bosom, and asked Durin if he had aught else to say? No, answered he. Well then, said Amadis, thou shalt presently return with my answer. In good sooth my Lord, answered Durin, she hath expressly forbidden me to receive any. And what, did not Mabila nor thy sister will thee to say any thing to me? No my Lord, answered he, for they knew not of my departure, because my Lady strictly charged me to acquaint no body therewith. Ah God, said Amadis, I see well now, that my misery is void of remedy. Then he rose up and went to a river which passed along by the garden, where he washed his eyes, which done, he willed Durin to call Gandalin, and that he should come back again with him alone, which he did: but at their return they found him in a swound again, yet recovering incontinent, and seeing Gandalin, he said. Friend I am undone, therefore go seek out Isania the Governor of this Isle & bring him hither alone. Then Gandalin ran for him and stayed not long until they returned together: who being come, Amadis said unto him, Isania you know the oath you have sworn unto me, & the duty wherein you are unto me bound, notwithstanding, I pray you yet to promise me as you are true knight, to keep secret whatsoever you shall see me do, until to morrow morning after my brethren have heard divine service, and then secretly go thou and cause the gate of this Castle to be opened, which being done, let Gandalin bring thither my horse & armour, but take heed that none perceive it, and I will follow strait after thee: they were no sooner departed from him, but he began to remember a dream which he had the night before, wherein he thought that being armed, and set upon his horse he was on the highest part of a piece of land environed with diverse sorts of trees, and that round about him were many persons making the greatest joy in the world, than one of them presented him with a box, saying. Sir taste of that which is herein: which he did, and he thought he did eat of a most bitter meat. And as he cast it from him, the rains of his horse did break, whereupon the horse ran up and down so that he was not in any sort able for to stay him. When he saw he was so far from this merry company, he looked back, and he thought that he beheld their great mirth changed into such exceeding moan, as it greatly pitied him, & willingly would he have returned back to assawage their sorrow, if he could have mastered his horse, who at that instant entered into a tuft of trees, where he found a rock environed with water, against the which the horse stayed. Then he alighted for the great desire he had to rest him, and unarmed himself: herewithal he beheld a very aged man clothed with a religious habit, who took him by the hand as if he had pitied his travail, & spoke to him certain words in a strange language which he did not understand: & being in this trouble he awaked. Upon this dream Amadis mused a great while, thinking that oftentimes they foreshow some thing that followeth, because he did see part of that which he had dreamt to fall out. Thus he came to the gate where Gandalin and Isania stayed his with furniture, & there armed himself: afterwards he mounted upon his horse, keeping neither way nor path until he came near unt an Hermitage, than he demanded of Isania what place that was: My Lord answered he, this Chapel is dedicated to the Virgin Marie, wherein oftentimes are diverse strange miracles wrought. For which cause Amadis alighted from his horse, entered into the Church, and kneeling down with great devotion, he made his prayers to God. The which being ended, he rose up, & called Gandalin to him, whom he held a long time embraced in his arms, not being able to speak one word, yet in the end he thus said unto him. My dear Gandalin, thou and I have been fostered up with one milk, and always brought up together, and I never felt any pain or sorrow, wherein thou hast not had thy part: Thy father tok me up in the sea, when I was yet but a small thing, being but newly borne the very night before, afterward he caused thy mother to cherish me as tenderly as if I had their deeriest child. Now have I oftentimes tried thy loyalty, knowing very well what service thou hast done for me, the which I did hope in time with the favour of God to have recompensed, but this great misfortune is fallen upon me, the which I feel more sharp and cruel than death itself, especially seeing I am constrained to forsake thee, having no other thing to bestow upon thee, but the Isle which I have newly conquered, which I do give thee, commanding Isania, with my other subjects (upon that faith and homage which they have sworn unto me) to receive thee as their Lord, so soon as they shall be assured of my death. Yet is it my will that thy father and mother shall enjoy the same, during their lives, and afterwards it shall remain unto thee: which is in recompense of the good I have received of them, whom I thought to have better rewarded, according to their deserts and my desire. And as for you, Lord Isania, I pray you that of the fruits and revenues of this Isle, which of long time you have had in your keeping, you should build here in this place a Monastery, in the honour of the virgin Mary, and to endow it with so much living, as thirty religious men may henceforth live upon the same. Ah my Lord, said Gandalin, I never forsook you for any travail or peril which hitherto you have suffered, neither yet will I leave you if God be pleased, and if you die, I will not live after you, neither for all the world will I lose you. Therefore you may (if it please you) bestow this gift upon my Lords your brethren, seeing I will not have it, neither do I desire it in any sort. Hold thy peace, said Amadis, let me hear these words no more, unless thou desirest to displease me: but do as I would have thee: for my brethren may provide far greater livings for than and their friends, than this small thing which I do give unto thee. But touching you, my deer● friend Isania, it very greatly grieveth me that I have not the means to gratulate you according to your deserts: notwithstanding, I leave you amongst so many of my good friends, as they shall supply that which I cannot. I pray you my Lord, answered he, suffer me only to accompany you, that I may be partaker of any wealth or woe that shall happen to you: Wherein you shall fully show me your love, and I rest satisfied to my liking. My dear friend, said Amadis, I doubt not but that you would follow with a good will, notwithstanding my misery is so excessive, as besides my maker, none can ease it: whom only I humbly beseech to be my conductor, for I will have no other companion. And therefore Gandalin if thou desirest Knighthood, hold take it presently with my armour, which I do give thee, for since thou hast heretofore so well kept them, it is reason they should now serve thee, considering how little I shall hereafter need them: if not, thou mayest receive this honour of my brother Galaor, unto whom my Lord Isania here, shall in my behalf make request to the same end: and I entreat thee to serve him, even as faithfully as thou hast served me. For my love unto him is so great, as amongst all my most afflictions I shall bewail his absence, because I have evermore found him an humble obedient & a loving brother. You shall further request him, to take into his service Ardan my Dwarf whom I recommend unto him, & to the Dwarf say, that I will him to serve my brother diligently. This said, both he and those to whom he spoke burst forth into abundance of tears, & coming unto them he embraced them, saying: Now my friends, seeing I never hope to see you any more, I entreat you to pray to God for me, and upon your lives, I charge you that none of you do follow me. Then he got upon his horse, set spurs to his sides, and galloped from them, remembering not at his departure to take either Lance, shield, or helmet with him. Thus he entered into a desert place at the foot of a mountain, taking no other way but whither his horse would carry him, and so long he road until the most part of the night was now spent, when the horse entered into a little brook environed with many trees, where he would have drunken. But as he passed on further, Amadis was strucken on the face with certain branches of trees, so rudely as it wakened him out of his study, and therewithal looking up, he perceived that he was in a covert and solitary place, beset with store of thick bushes, which greatly rejoiced him, because he thought he should very hardly be found out in this thicket. There he alighted, tied his horse, and sat him down upon the grass, the better to meditate upon his melancholy: but he had wept so long, and his brains were so light, that at the last he fell asleep.   

CHAP. FOUR  
How Gandalin and Durin followed the same way that Amadis had taken, brought the rest of his armour which he had left behind, then found him sleeping, & how he fought against a Knight whom he did overcome.  
AMadis being departed, Gandalin who remained in the Hermitage with Isania & Durin, as you have heard, began to make the greatest lamentation in the world, and said. Although he hath forbidden me to follow him, yet will I not stay for any thing behind him, at least I will carry him his armour. I will gladly bear you company for this night, said Durin. I would to God we might find him in better case then he was at his departure. Then they took their leave of Isania, and getting to horseback, they followed the same way that Amadis had took, coasting here and there about the wood, so long till fortune brought them where he lay. When his horse scented their horses, he began to neigh, whereby Gandalin knew his Master was not far off, wherefore the more secretly to behold his countenance, he alighted, coming so near unto him as he might easily behold where he slept hard by the river side: whereupon he stood close, watching when he should awake, & he had not stained long before his slumber left him. Then he suddenly started up as if he had been frighted. At that instant was the Moon withdrawn by the days approach, yet sat he still on the grass, beginning his moan in a most strange and pitiful manner, and bitterly weeping, he burst out into these words. Alas fortune too inconstant & fickle, why hast thou first advanced me, and afterwards overthrown me. Now I well perceive, thou canst do more hurt in one hour, than thou wilt do good in a thousand years, for if heretofore thou haste given me any pleasure or joy, thou hast now in a moment cruelly robbed me of all, leaving me in bitter torments far worse than death: and seeing thou wast minded so to serve me, why hast thou not at the least made the one equal with the other? because thou knowest that if heretofore thou didst bestow upon me any contentment, yet was it evermore mingled with great sorrow. In like sort shouldst thou reserve for me some spark of hope, with this cruelty wherewith thou now tormentest me, executing upon me an incomprehensible thing, in the thought of those whom thou favourest: who because they feel not this mischief, do think those riches, glories, and honours which unto them thou lendest, to be everlasting. But they forget, that besides the troublesome travels which their bodies do suffer for the keeping thereof, how their souls are in danger to perish therefore. For by thy flatteries & wanton enticements, thou utterly overthrowest them, & in the end compelest them to enter into the labytinth of all desolation, from whence they are never able to depart. And quite contrary are thy adversities, for so much as if a man do resist them patiently, flying greedy covetousness, & disordinate ambition, he is lifted out of this wild place into perpetual glory. Notwithstanding I being most unfortunate, could not choose this good, seeing that if all the world were mine, and should be taken from me by thee, yet having only the good grace of my Mistress, it should be sufficient to make me as mighty as the greatest monarch, the which I also lacking, how is it possible for me in any sort to live? Therefore in favour and recompense of my loyalty, I beseech thee not to give me a languishing death: but if thou art appointed to end my days, do it without delay, taking compassion of him, whose longer life thou art ignorant how irksome it is. This said, he fell down backward upon the grass, and was as silent as if he had been in a swound. Then within a while after he cried, Ah lovely Oriana, you have wounded me deadly, in banishing me discurteously, for I will never transgress your commandments, what danger soever may happen me, seeing that if therein I failed, my life also were thereby finished: notwithstanding for as much as I wrongfully receive my death, the more extreme is my dolour. But seeing that with my end you shall rest satisfied, I never esteemed my life at so high a price, but I would, if it were possible, change it into a thousand deaths; to afford you never so little pleasure. In like sort since it liketh you to execute your anger against me, I am very well content, if for my affliction you may henceforth live at your ease, for whether soever my Soul flieth, it shall receive most quiet when it shall know that you remain contented. And until mine innocency shall be known unto you, I will endeavour to finish the rest of my sorrowful days in all bitterness and displeasure, and being dead, my spirit shall lament the grief which will happen unto you for the wrong which you have done to me, specially wanting power to succour you. O king Perion my Lord and father, how little occasion shall you have to bewail my death, when you shall neither know the same nor the cause thereof? But because that knowing the same, it would be to you a grief intolerable, and yet it could be no mitigation of my torment, I pray, that my misfortune may to you never be manifest, lest the same should abridge the remainder of your days, which yet are not determined. Then after a small pause he cried, O my second father Galuanes, truly I do greatly grieve that my adverse Fortune doth not permit me to discharge that great bond in which to you I am bound, for if my father gave me life, you preserved the same, in delivering me from the danger of the Sea, being launched forth into his merciless waves, even when I had but newly left my mother's womb, and afterwards I was by you as carefully cherished, as if I had been your dearest child. I am assured good King Arban that you will greatly bewail my sorrowful end, yet valiant Angriotta d Estravaux, Guillan, and a number of my other friends, shall assist you to bemoan his death, who ever loved and held you dear. Ah good cousin Mabila, what have I deserved of you, or of the Damosel of Denmark, that by you I am abandoned when I have most need of your aid? Have you so many times preserved my life, & do you now (without desert) make me pay tribute for my received pleasure, in consenting to my miserable death? Believe me, if need were, dear friends, for your sakes would I be sacrificed: and yet you make no conscience to forsake me, which maketh me verily to believe, that you have denied me your comfort, heaven and earth have desired my confusion, which shall the less grieve me in that I see no remedy. Gandalin and Durin hearing these lamentations of Amadis, they were so much aggrieved therewith, that they wept as bitterly as he, yet durst they not show themselves, because he had so straightly charged them not to follow him. But Amadis ceased not his moan until he heard a knight who passed hard by him singing this song:  

Love, sacred Love, most bounden I remain  
To thee, for thy exceeding bounteous grace:  
On earth what Gentleman may vaunt like gain?  
Beloved thou makest me in every place.  
Happy such hap, when love doth so respect me,  
ne'er served I Lady, but she did affect me.   

To witness this, a Princess word I have,  
Sweet Sardamira, she I know will vow it:  
Whom I in heart a supreme honour gave,  
And for the date, her beauty did allow it.  
My hap was good, good hap inclined to gaining,  
Till past the full, turned loves decrease a waning   

For now a Goddess guides my back retire,  
Fair Oriana, Prize of lovers war:  
The peerless daughter of a kingly fire,  
Whom Venus yieldeth for her brighter star.  
My luck is great her praises to recount,  
But to enjoy her love, my joys surmount.   
Having ended his song he alighted under a tusted tree planted by the high way side, thinking there to pass the rest of the night: but worse happened to him then he hoped, for Gandalin which had heard what he said of Oriana, (doubting that Amadis had not marked it, because his mind was otherwise occupied) said unto Durin, It were best for me to go to my Master to know what he intendeth to do. Then came he forth of the bush where he was hidden, & beheld Amadis that sought for his horse to depart from thence, who as he looked here & there he espied Gandalin: When not knowing him at the first, he cried. Who art thou that comest to surprise me? speak and hide thyself no longer. My Lord, answered he, I an Gandalin, who will help you to find your horse, if so it please you. When Amadis heard this, Ah said he, how durst you presume to follow me, having so expressly forbidyou? believe me thou hast greatly displeased me, let me see thee no more but depart, or else be sure thou shalt die. My Lord, answered Gandalin, me thinks you should forget this manner of behaviour, and bethink you how to revenge the foolish speeches which even now were uttered by a knight, who is not yet far from you, for they are greatly to your disadvantage. This said Gandalin to pacify his displeasure towards him, that he might be the more incensed against the other. I did hear him as well as you (said he) and therefore am I content to seek rest elsewhere, and to depart from hence where all misfortune doth follow me. What said Gandalin, is this all that you are determined to do? What wouldst thou more? said he. That you fight with him answered Gandalin, to make him confess his presumption. I believe said he thou wouldst say otherwise, seeing thou knowest very well that I neither have spirit, heart, not any force, having lost all in losing her who gave me life, so as now I am no better than a dead man, neither is there in Great Britain any knight so cowardly, that could not easily overcome me if I should combat with him, so hapless and hopeless am I. Trust me answered Gandalin, you are in a great error thus to suffer your heart to faint & to let your courage fail, even when it should most serve you to advance the honour of her, who so nearly toucheth you. What report will Durin make hereof think you, who hath heard and seen all, and is greatly abshed, that now you behave yourself no better. How (said Amadis) is Durin here? I truly said Gandalin, we came both together: and I believe he followeth you thus, to declare your manner of behaviour unto her that sent him unto you. Get thee gone said Amadis, thou urgest me too much. Yet when he thought that Durin should return to Oriana, his heart was so inflamed, that he called for his arms, and mounting on his horse he went toward the knight, whom he found laid under the tree, holding his horse by the bridle. Then Amadis, in a great rage said unto him, Sir knight who so greatly extollest thy fortune in love, I believe that against all right thou hast receined that good that love hath dove for thee (if good it may be termed) and that thou never deservedst it, the which I will prove with the loss of thy head. What art thou answered the other, that speakest so audaciously? dost thou think that I am favoured of the fairest Lady in the world for any other cause but only for my valour and high knighthood? wherewith I will make thee presently confess that love hath reason to favour me, and that it is not for thee to speak thereof. It is but thy opinion said Amadis: but thou must know that in despite of thee, I am he who hath least occasion to praise love, because he hath so vildly deceived me, that I will never days in my life put any trust in him, knowing how falsely and treacherously he commonly useth those that most faithfully do serve him. And because I have sufficiently proved it, I will maintain that he can never be so faithful, as I have found him false. That it is so, let us see whether he hath gained more in thee than he hath lost in me. Then the knight mounted on his horse, and being ready to fight, he answered, Unhappy knight deprived of all good, and banished justly from love, being unworthy of his favour, get thee from my presence, for I should commit a most horrible fact, to lay my hands upon such a vild & miserable fellow. So saying, he turned his horse to have fled away, if Amadis had not stayed him in calling him. Villain, wilt thou then defend thy love which so highly thou prisest only with thy countenance, and so get thee gone because thou wouldst fly the combat. Trust me answered the other thou art in a right opinion, for it is true that I have no desire to prove myself against a person of so small desert, but seeing thou wouldst that I should break thy head, I am content, and if thy heart will serve, defend it if thou canst. Herewithal they ran one against the other with such force, as their Lances flew to shivers, piercing their shields quite thorough, nevertheless their armour being good & strong stayed the stroke, yet the knight fell to the ground carrying the rains of his horse with him, wherefore he rose again lightly. The which Amadis beholding, he said unto him, Truly knight if the right which you pretend in so fair a friend be not better maintained with your sword then it hath been with your staff, Love hath made but a bad choice of you for a valiant champion, & your Lady a far worse match in lighting upon such a carpet knight. He made no account at all of these reproaches, but boldly drew out his sword, and coming near to Amadis laid at him so lustily, that he had been wounded if with his shield he had not well warded himself, wherein his sword was so far entered, that he could not pull it forth again, but was forced to let go his hold, leaving it sticking fast in the shield of Amadis. Who lifted himself up in his stirrups hitting him so sound a blow upon his headpiece, that it pierced even unto the quick: & the blow gliding down, it lighted upon his horse neck, wounded him to the death, falling down in the place and his master under him all astonished. But Amadis seeing him arise said unto him, Gentle lover, I am of the mind that Cupid henceforth should erect a trophy for the high prowess which you have showed in his service: & that as long as you live you should not cease to sing his praise●▪ & declare those benefits which upon you he hath bestowed: As for me I will go seek my fortune else where. So he set spurs to his horse, & as he departed, he beheld Gandalin & Durin, when coming near them, he took Durin by the hand, and said unto him: Friend Durin, I see my misfortune so strange, and my sorrow so intolerable, as of force I must die, which God grant it may be without delay: for death only will give rest and ease to this torture which vexeth me. Salute from me the Princess Mabila, and thy good sister, the damosel of Denmark, unto whom thou mayst declare my cruel death, which I suffer with as great wrong as ever any knight suffered. Before the which, I would to God I had the means to do them any service, in recompense of the duty I do owe them for all the good they have done, and the favours they have purchased for me. Then he began his moan, weeping so bitterly as Durin therewith had his heart so stopped with woe, that he was not able to answer one word: Wherefore Amadis embraced him and committed him to God. At that instant began the day to appear, when Amadis perceiving that Gandalin followed him, he said unto him: if thou determinest to come with me, take heed upon thy life that thou turn me not from any thing which I shall say or do, otherwise I pray thee forthwith to turn another way that I may see thee no more. Believe me Sir, said Gandalin, I will do whatso ever shall please you. Then Amadis delivered him his armour to bear, commanding him to pull the sword forth of his shield & to carry it to the amorous knight.   

CHAP. V.  
Who was the Knight vanquished by Amadis, and what happened unto him, before he fought with him.  
SEeing that it falleth out so fit, I will declare unto you (before I pass any further) the estate of the amorous Knight, of whom we spoke even now. You must know that he was called Patin, brother to Don Sidon the Emperor of Rome, and he was the best knight that was to be found in all Romania. By means whereof he was feared and famous through all the Empire, chiefly because he was to succeed in his brother's dignity, for there was none more near the same then he, and the Emperor was already so old, that he never hoped to have any heir. Now this Patin was one day talking with the Queen of Sardinia, named Sardamira, one of the fairest Ladies in the world, whom he loved extremely. And as he gave her to understand what fervency and torment he endured in overloving her, she answered him: My Lord, I assuredly believe that which you tell me, and the better to witness the same, I let you know that there is no prince living for whom I would do more than for you, nor whom I would more willingly take for husband: because I know your good parts, and the high knighthood wherewithal you are so famoused. These speeches bred so great presumption in the heart of Pa●in, as besides that he was by nature one of the proudest Gentlemen in the world, he entered into such glory, that he answered h●●: Madam, I have heard that King Lisuart hath a daughter esteemed the fairest Princess in the world, but for the love of you I will go into Great Britain, there to maintain against all men, that her beauty is not comparable to yours: the which I alone will prove in combat against two of the best knights that dare say the contrary: whom if I cannot overcome, I will that King Lisuart do cause my head to be cut off. In good faith my Lord, answered the Queen, I am of a contrary opinion: for if the Princess have any beauty in her, it nothing impaireth that which God hath bestowed upon me, if any beauty there be: and me thinks that you have other means more fit to make known your prowess in all places. Hap what may hap answered he, I will do it for your love, to the end that every one may know that as you are the fairest Lady in the world, so you are beloved of the valiantest Knight alive. Hereupon continuing in this mind, within a while after he took leave of the Queen, and passed into Great Britain accompanied only with two Esquires. Then he inquired where he might find King Lisuart, unto whose Court he shortly after came: and because he was more richly armed then wandering knights were accustomed to be, the King thought him to be some great parsonage: For this cause he received him most honourably, appointing him into a chamber to shift himself. When he was unarmed he returned to the King who stayed for him, marching with such gravity, as those that beheld (seeing his comely stature) judged him to be of great courage. But the King took him by the hand, and conferring together he said unto him, gentle friend, I pray you think it not strange, if I desire to know who you are, because I may the more honour you in my Court. It may please your Majesty, answered Patin, I am not come into this country, to hide me, but rather to make myself known as well unto your Highness as unto all others: I am that Patin brother to the Emperor which humbly beseecheth you to inquire no further of my affairs, until I have seen my Lady Oriana your daughter. When the King heard that, he embraced him, and in excusing his ignorance he said to him. My good cozen, I am marvelous glad of the honour that you have done me, In coming thus to visit me in my own country, assuring you that since you are desirous to see my daughter, she shall not only be showed unto you, but likewise the Queen, and all her train. And so long they continued their talk, until they had covered for supper. Then the King caused him to sit next unto him, where he found himself compassed with so great a number of knights, as he much marualled thereat: and began to despise the Court of the Emperor his brother, as also of all other Princes in respect of this which he saw. After the tables were taken up, it being time to go to rest, the King commanded Don Grumedan to bring Patin to his lodging and to show him all the honour and good entertainment he could. So for that night they departed, until the next morning that he came and found the King hearing divine service, after the which he was conducted to the Ladies, who received him courteously: for at his coming the Queen took him by the hand, praying him to sit between her, & her daughter Oriana, whom at that instant he beheld with such an eye, as the love which before he did bear unto the Queen Sardamira, was wholly changed unto her, being captivated with her excellent beauty and goodly grace. You may judge then how he would have esteemed her if he had seen her in the time of her perfect health, which was now much decayed by reason of this new jealousy which she had conceived against Amadis which made her look lean, pale, and wan: but these defaults could nothing quench the heat of the fire already kindled in the heart of Patin, who was so far beside himself, that he determined to beseech the king to bestow her upon him in marriage: making account that it would be easily granted, considering his birth and high estate. Hereupon he took leave of the Ladies, and returned towards the King, who was ready to sit down to dinner, the which being ended he went aside towards a window, and calling Patin unto him, they talked long together. Afterwards falling from one matter to another, Patin said unto him. It may please your majesty, yesterday I promised to tell you● so soon as I had seen my Lady Oriana your daughter) what moved me to come from Rome into Great-Brittaine, I beseech you not to be offended if I have taken so far a journey, to come in person to require her of you in marriage. I have chosen her as well to have your alliance as also for the beauty and good grace which remaineth in her. I am sure you are not ignorant (considering the place from whence I am descended, & the great means which cannot fail me, as one day to be Emperor of Rome) that if I would else where set my liking, there is no Prince this day living, which would not be very glad to receive me for his son in law. Good cousin, answered the king, I thank you for the kindness and honour you do offer me, but the Queen hath always promised Oriana that she shall never be married against her will, wherefore before we grant you any thing, we must know of her how she will be content therewith: this the King said because he would not discontent Patin, for he was not minded to bestow his daughter upon any Prince or Lord that should carry her forth of the land. Patin was satisfied with these words, and expecting some other answer of the King, he stayed five days at the Court, yet the king never spoke to Oriana thereof, although he assured him that he had done as much as he could, to cause her consent thereto, but he could in no sort prevail with her. Therefore win her yourself if you can, said he, and pray her to do that which I shall command her. Then Patin came unto her and said. Madam I am to desire a request of you, that shall be both honourable and profitable for you, the which I pray you not to deny me. My Lord (answered the princess) there is no reason to refuse the grant, being such a reasonable request as you assure me it is, therefore if it please you, defer not to declare it unto me. I beseech you, said Patin, to obey whatsoever the king your Father shall command you. Oriand (who understood not his meaning) answered him. You may be assured Sir, that I should be very sorry to do otherwise. This answer wonderfully contented Patin, for he now assuredly thought Oriana to be his, and said unto her, Madam I have determined to go through this country to seek strange adventures, and I hope to perform so high deeds of Arms, as you shall shortly hear news of my prows, so much to mine advantage, as very easily you will condescend unto that which the king will command you for the love of me. Herewithal he took leave of her, manifesting at this time his intention unto her no farther, and returned unto the king unto whom he declared the answer of Oriana, together with the desire he had to prove himself against all wandering Knights. Do as it please you, answered the king, notwithstanding I would advise you to desist from such an enterprise: for you shall find many strange and very dangerous adventures, with a great number of knights well exercised in arms, who may happily in some sort displease you. If they be valiant and hardy, said he, I hope they shall not find any faintness or cowardliness in me, as my deeds hereafter may witness. Well, answered the king. Do what you shall think best. Thus Patin departed in the hope which he had to enjoy Oriana, for the love of whom he had framed this song, which he sung when fortune brought him near the place where Amadis made his moan, who used him as you have heard. But now we will leave him, and recount unto you what happened to Durin, who having left Amadis, returned the next way passing by the place where Patin lay wounded, who had taken off his Helmet for the grief of his wound, having already lost such store of blood, that his face and armour was all stained and covered therewith. He beholding Durin, said to him, Gentleman, my friend, tell me where I may find a place to cure my wounds. Truly answered he, I know no place but one, and those whom you shall find there, are so sorrowful, that I believe they cannot look unto you. Wherefore? said Patin. For a Knight (quoth Durin) who newly hath won the place that I tell you of, and seen the images of Apolidon and his Lady, which till then no other might behold: since when he is departed thence secretly in such melancholy, as his death is greatly feared Belike said Patin, you speak of the Firm Island. True (quoth Durin.) What said Patin, is it conquered already? certes, I am heartily sorry, for I was going thither, with intention to prove myself, hoping to have won the same. Durin smiled, and answered him, Truly knight if there be no more prowess hidden within you, then that which you have now manifested, I think in stead of honour, you might there have gotten shame and infamy. Patin thinking himself injuried rose up, and thought to have taken hold of ●he rains of Durins horse: but Durin turned from him: herefore Patin seeing he was far enough from him, he called him again and said. I pray you fair sir, tell what he is that hath gotten this famous conquest. Then tell me first what you are, answered Durin. I will not stick for that, said Patin, I am sir Patin, brother to the Emperor of Rome.  
God be praised, answered Durin: Yet so far as I see you are of higher birth than bounty, and your courage is as slender as your Courtesy is small: Witness the speech which of late you had with the Knight that you inquire after, who is the very same that even now went from you, whom I believe (considering how he hath handled you) you will grant that he is worthy of such a victory, and not Patin whom he hath vanquished. This said, he set spurs to his horse, taking the right way unto London, in full purpose to recite unto the Princess Oriana all that he had seen and heard of Amadis.   

CHAP. VI  
How Don Galaor, Florestan and Agraies, undertook the search of Amadis: who having left his Armour, changed his name, and withdrew himself to an hermitage, in the company of a very old hermit, there to live solitarily.  
I Have of late told you that when Amadis departed from the firm Island, it was so secretly, that Galaor, Florestan, Agraies and others, never perceived any thing thereof: you have also heard the oath which he had taken of Isania the governor, that he should not declare any thing which he had seen, until the next morning when maffe was ended: the which Isania performed. For the day following, when the Lords were ready to sit down at the Table, they perceived that Amadis was absent: and inquiring for him, Isania told them that they should know after dinner where he was become. Thereupon they sat down thinking that he was gone somwhether for his pleasure. After the Tables were taken up, Isania said unto them. My lords the misfortune of my Lord Amadis is far worse than you think it is, as I shall presently declare unto you. Then he recited in what order he deparded from them, the great sorrow wherein he was, and what he had commanded him to say unto them, especially how he had disposed of the Island, and he earnestly entreated them not to follow him, seeing that he hoped for no remedy of his misery: For his death was not to be prevented. When they heard these pitiful news, there was not any of them whose eyes were not filled with tears, and they began to make a most sorrowful lamentation. But Galaor made the greatest moan of all, saying. If I may relieve him from distress, the best knight in the world shall not in this sort die. Although he hath commanded us to stay, yet shall he not be obeyed for me at this time: but I will seek until I shall have found him, & will know who hath wronged him, that I may either revenge it, or die in the quarrel. Believe me answered Agraies, we will not be far behind you: and if we cannot remedy his misfortune by force of courage, or counsel, yet at the least we will altogether die with him for company. Moreover said Isania, he desireth you my Lord Galaor to make Gandalin a knight, and take Ardan his dwarff into your service, whom he recommendeth unto you. Then Galaor called the Dwarff, and said unto him: Ardan, thy master hath forsaken us, and willed that thou shouldst be mine, assure thee that so long as I live, I will not leave thee for his sake. How? answered the Dwarf, is my Lord dead then? So saying, he fell down where he stood, and began to tear his hairs, making so great sorrow as it was wonderful, & said: I might well be counted a traitor to live after my Master, wherewithal he had slain himself if they had not taken heed unto him. Florestan his heart was so overcharged with grief that he could neither weep, nor speak, but sit leving as if he had been in a trance. And when he recovered his speech, he said unto his fellows: my Lords, it is no time for us to weep nor lament when we should rather endeavour to succour my Lord Amadis: let women wail, but let manly minds conjoin together, & devise how we may provide a remedy for so great a mischief. As for me, I think that without longer delay we should all to horseback, making as great speed as we may to find him, than we may know if there be any means to cure his malady: for the time passeth, his sorrow increaseth, and he still goeth farther from us. The Lord Isania (as he saith) hath brought him some part of his way, he may show us then which path he hath taken, but if we shall longer tarry, we may lose him, without hope ever to see him again. Therefore my Lords I pray you let us make haste to follow him. Unto the which they all agreed, & caused their horses to be presently brought. Then Isania conducted them to the place where Amadis had left him, and from thence they road till they came whereas Patin lay wounded, whom they beheld lying upon the ground, whilst his two esquires did cut down boughs and poles, to make him a litter: for he was so feeble with the loss of his blood, that he could not sit on horseback, nor answer one only word unto the knights who saluted him, and inquired of him, what he was that had done him such outrage: but he made a sign that his Squires should tell them. Where-upon Galaor came, and demanded the matter of them, they answered him that he had jousted against a knight which came from the Firm Island, by whom he was overthrown at the first encounter, and how that afterwards thinking to revenge him with his Sword, he sped so illas they might perceiu by his hurt. What is become of the knight, said Galaor. By our faith answered the squires, we know not, for we were not present at the combat. Notwithstauding we do think that we did meet him in our coming hither, and he did ride over the forest so fast as his horse could run, having none following him but one Squire, who wept bitterly carrying after him his Armour and shield, upon the which were 2. lions sables, in a field Ore. In faith said Florestan it is he whom we do seek. Show us therefore what way he took, the which they did. Then the knights went after him, and so long they road, until they came to a cross way, where they stayed to advise what was best to be done: for there was not any body that might tell them any news of that which they sought: and therefore they determined to separate themselves, promising one unto another to meet at the Court of king Lisuart, upon S. john's day next ensuing: but if by that time they heard no news of Amadis, than they would determine further what to do in the matter, thus taking leave of each other, they departed with weeping: and afterward they did what they might, but it was all in vain, although they had ridden through many strange countries in which they found many great accidents & perilous adventures. But you must know, that so soon as Amadis had sent Durin away, he set spurs unto his horse, neither caring, nor determining what way he should take, & he went even as fortune guided him: in the end he came to the bottom of an obscure valley, full of underwood & bushes which place he thought most commodious to hide himself from being found out of any that might follow him. Here did he alight, letting his horse go where he would, but unbridled him not: then he sat down by the side of a brook, which descended from the mountain, and took a little water to refresh him withal. By this time Gandalin had overtaken him, who had stayed behind to deliver Patin his Sword, who finding Amadis laid all along upon the grass, so still that he heard not one word to proceed from him: he durst not say any thing to him, but sat down hard by him, and within a while after Amadis rose up, and beholding Gandalin laid upon the ground by him, he pushed him with his foot saying, sleepest thou Gandalin? By my faith sir no, answered he, for in stead of sleeping, I thought upon two things which concern you greatly, the which (if it please you) I will declare, if not, I will hold my peace. Go to rise said Amadis, and take our horses, for I will get me gone, because I should be very sorry to be found of those (who it may be) do follow me. Truly answered Gandalin, me thinks you are far enough out of the way: besides your horse is so weary, as if you let him not rest a little, it is impossible for him to bear you any longer. I pray thee said he, (in weeping) do what thou shalt think best, for whether I stay or go, my sorrows are remediless. Eat then a little of this bread which I have brought for your sustenance, answered Gandalin, but he refused it. What will you then do said he, shall I tell you whereupon I studied even now? It is all one to me answered Amadis, I think on nothing so much as my death. Then harken unto me if it please you, said Gandalin, I have long time mused upon the letter which Oriana sent unto you, as also upon the words which the knight uttered against whom you did fight, and so consequently upon the lightness and inconstancy wherewith women are endued: for seeing she hath changed her love and yourself for a stranger, she witnesseth very well what trust a man should repose in such as she is: and on the other side, when I consider her virtues, I think it in a manner impossible, that she should so far forget herself. But it may be that in your absence, some false report of you, hath been made unto her, whereby she hath conceived this displeasure against you, the concealing whereof so much the more increased her grief. Notwithstanding, seeing you are assured that you never offended her, although she have been too credulous, yet in the end the truth will be known, and thereby your innocency the more apparent, it seemeth unto me that you should not thus despair, seeing that she may repent her folly, and acknowledge the wrong which she hath done unto you, in such sort as requiring pardon for her misconceit, she may make you amends with more joy & contentment than you ever yet enjoyed together: & therefore enforce yourself to eat, that you may be able hereafter to preserve your life, but if you do wilfully suffer the same thus to be lost, you shall also lose all the good & honour that ever you may or can hope for in this world. Hold thy peace said Amadis, for thou hast so shamefully and wickedly lied, as I know no man which would not be displeased to hear thee thus to accuse her, because that so wise a Princess never did amiss at any time: and if I die, I have well deserved it, seeing that she shall be obeyed and satisfied even until my death. And be thou assured, if I did not think that thou speakest this, only with intent thereby to assuage my sorrow: I would presently strike thy head from thy shoulders, for the offence which thou hast done unto me, and take heed that henceforth you commit not the like fault.  
When he had so said, he arose up in a great rage, and walked up along the river, so pensive that he knew not what way he should take. Which Gandalin perceiving, (fearing his anger, and thinking also that he would not go far) he let him alone and laid him down to sleep, his eyes being very heavy with watching. When Amadis was returned unto him, and perceived him so sound asleep, he would not wake him, but took his own horse and saddled him, than did he hide the bridle and harness of Gandalins horse in the bushes, to the end when he awaked he might not follow him. Then he armed himself and mounted on horseback, coasting over the top of the mountain. Thus without any stay at all, he road till it was within four hours of the sun setting, descending then into a great plain, where there were two high trees, and under them a fair fountain, commonly called, The fountain of the plain field: to which he went to water his horse. And as he approached near the fountain, he beheld a religious man clothed poorly in a garment made of goats hair, having his beard and head all white, who was watering his Ass. Amadis saluted him, ask him if he were a Priest. Truly, said the old man, it is more than forty years since I first said Mass. The gladder am I thereof, said Amadis. Then he alighted & took his saddle and bridle from his horse, who finding himself at liberty, began to run towards the Forest, Amadis minding not to follow him, but threw off all his armour, which done, he kneeled at the old man's feet, who taking him up by the hand, made him sit down by him: & beholding him well, he thought him to be the fairest Gentleman that ever he saw, although he was pale and wan, having his face all bedewed with tears: whereat the Hermit was moved with so great compassion, that he said unto him. Knight, you seem to be full of sorrow, and if your grief proceed from the repentance of any sin that you have committed, In truth my son you are very happy: and if it be for any temporal loss, than I think (seeing your youth, and the estate wherein you have lived unto this present, you should not thus vex yourself, but pray for forgiveness. Then he gave him his blessing, saying. Go too, now confess your sins. Here-upon Amadis began to tell the whole discourse of his life, without letting any thing pass. Truly, said the holy man, seeing that you are descended of so high a birth, you ought to be the more virtuous: yet you must not despair for any tribulation that may happen unto you, chiefly, for this that proceedeth from the occasion of a woman, who is as easily won as she is lightly lost. Wherefore my son, I council you to forget such vanities, and henceforth to banish the thought of such a miserable manner of life from you, for it will not only be irksome unto you, but also every virtuous person will condemn you for it. Ah father, answered Amadis, I am now in such extremity, that it is impossible I should live any long time, wherefore I humbly pray you to receive me into your company, and to comfort my poor soul, for that little time which it hath to remain in this unhappy body. When the good oldeman heard him speak with such affection, he said unto him, I promise you my friend, it is ill done of you, who are a knight, yet young and of a comely stature, to fall into such desparie, seeing that women cannot continue their love, but by presence of those whom they love: for by nature they are quickly forgetful, and light of belief, especially where any thing is reported unto them of such as have fond yielded themselves to them, who when they think to have nothing but joy and contentment, do find themselves plunged in all sorrow and tribulation, as you now feel by experience. Wherefore I pray you henceforth to be more virtuous and constant: and seeing you are borne a King's son, and likely to govern a Kingdom, return to the world, for it should be a great hurt to lose you in this sort: and I cannot presume what she might be that brought you into this extremity, seeing that although she were a woman so requisite as she could not be equalled, yet for her such a man as you are to be cast away. Father, answered Amadis, I ask not your counsel herein, for I now need it not, but for my soul's sake I desire you henceforth to receive me into your company, which if you refuse to do, I see no other remedy for me, but to die amongst the beasts of this forest. The old man seeing him so resolute, had such compassion of him, as the tears fell down his long white beard, and answered him: Alas my son, my abiding in a desert place, and I live a life too strict for you, my Hermitage is at the least seven leagues within the sea, upon the top of a poor Rock: unto the which no living creature can come unless it be at the beginning of the spring time. Notwithstanding, I have already remained thirty years there, exempted from all worldly pleasure, living only upon such small alms, which some people of this Country do bestow upon me. I promise you father, said Amadis, it is the life which I desire, and I once entreat you, that you would give me leave to go with you. The which the Hermit at the last granted, notwithstanding, that he had a long time denied him. Herewithal Amadis kissed his feet, saying: father command whatsoever you shall please, for to my power I will ever obey you. Then the Hermit said his evening service, after the which (because he had eaten nothing all day) he took out of his wallet a little bread, and fish dried in the sun, which was given unto him: and willed Amadis to eat with him, but he refused it, although he had been three days without tasting any sustenance. Wherefore the hermit said unto him: My son you have promised to obey me, do this than which I command you, and eat, for if you should die in this obstinacy, your soul should be in very great danger. For this cause Amadis durst not deny him, but did eat a very little, for he fighed continually, not being able to forget the great sorrow wherein he remained. After he had taken this small refrection, the good old man spread his cloak abroad and laid him down thereon, and Amadis at his feet, who was a great while before he could take any rest, tumbling and tossing himself as a person ill at ease, nevertheless in the end, being heavy with long watching, he fell asleep: and he dreamt that he was locked in a chamber so dark, that he could see no light at all, neither could he find any way to come out thereof, wherewith he greatly lamented: moreover he thought that his Cousin Mabila and the damosel of Denmark came unto him, having before them a became of the Sun, which gave a great light in so dark a place: they taking him by the hand said unto him, My Lord, come forth from hence, if it please you, and follow us into the palace, the which he did. But at his coming forth, he thought that he did see Oriana environed with a great flame of fire, which made him so afraid, that he cried out help, help, my Lady Oriana burneth: and therewithal he leapt into the fire to save her. Then he took her in his arms, coming through the flame again without any hurt at all: afterwards he carried her into a garden, the greenest and pleasantest that he had seen. At the loud cry which Amadis did make, the good Hermit awaked, and taking him by the hand, he asked him, what he ailed? Father, answered he, I have even now in my sleep felt such exceeding pain, that I marvel I am not dead. Your cry hath witnessed the same, said he, but let us rise, for it is time to depart. Then he got upon his Ass, and took the way toward the Hermitage, and Amadis followed him a foot, talking together of many things, at the last he prayed him to give him one gift, which should not be hurtful unto him, the which the old man granted, I pray you then said Amadis, that so long as we are together, you would not tell any man who I am: and henceforth to give me another name, such as it shall please you: then after my death you may tell my brethren of me, that they may come fetch my body, and carry it into Gaul. Your life and death, answered the hermit, are in the hands of God, therefore speak no more thereof, for therein you offend him very grievously: and therefore seeing you know him, love him, and serve him as you are bound to do, he will succour and help you: notwithstanding what other name will you have? Such as it shall please you to give me, said Amadis. And as they talked together, the old man had his eye continually upon him, and the more he looked on him, the fairer he thought him to be: but he did see him so full of grief as he determined to give him a name conformable to his excellency, and agreeable to his melancholy. Whereupon he said unto him: my Son you are young and of a fair complexion, notwithstanding your life is obscure, by reason of your sorrow, therefore my will is that you be called the Fair F●rlorne. Wherewith Amadis was contented, liking very well of the Hermit his devise, who not without great occasion had imposed that name upon him. And even as they were overtaken with the night, they came unto the Sea side, where they found a little boa● which the day before was come to seek the Hermit at his hermitage, wherein they embarked, and within a small time after took landing at the poor Rock, so called because of the barrenness of the place, as the old man had declared to him. Who continuing his discourse, said, Son I have heretofore followed the world as you have done, and my name was Andahod, assuring you that during my young years, I studied many vain sciences: but in the end being weary thereof, I withdrew myself into this poor place, where I have already remained thirty years and more, and never departed thence until yeesterday, that I was at the burial of my sister, who died within these few days. When the Fair Forlorn came into this Solitary place, he was exceeding glad: hoping that in a very short time his sadness and his life would both end at once. Thus he remained in the company of the hermit, consuming his youth with weeping and continual lamentations, setting at nought all worldly honours, especially the glory which he had gotten in fight with Galpan, Abies King of Ireland, Dardan the proud, and many others whom he had overcome, and he began to despise in himself all vanities, considering the variableness of Fortune. who not long before had so highly advanced him, that he had entered into the forbidden Chamber of Apolidon, as in the beginning of the History hath been mentioned. But if he had been demanded what moved him so to do, what would he (think you) have answered? no other thing (as I guess) but that the displeasure of a weak woman, had brought him to this extremity: he would have tried to colour his fault by the examples of the strong and valiant Hercules, Samson, the wise Solomon, Virgil, and an infinite number of other great and virtuous personages which have all fallen into the like misery, being no more able to resist the same then he. And Amadis would have thought their misfortunes sufficient to shadow his misery, and yet it is quite contrary: for their example might have warned him to have shunned the like folly. Was it likely than that Fortune would bring him out of his calamity, he being thus overcome for so small a cause, and to bestow upon him afterwards more favours and victories then ever she had done before? me thinketh that she should not: neither yet had she done it, if those things by her executed against him, had not turned to the profit of the persons whom she would favour, whose lives depended upon Amadis his safety, whom she tormented in such sort, as it seemed she had more compassion upon them, then care of him, as yourself may judge. Because that Amadis being as it were brought unto the period of his life, (when he least hoped of remedy) even then was he restored unto his former estate by such means, as shall be hereafter recited unto you. But to the end that we stray not too far from the order of our history, you must first understand that which happened to Gandalin after he awaked and found neither Amadis nor his horse: who rising up in a fright, misdonbted that which was happened, and looked in all places thereabout, notwithstanding he could see nothing but Trees and Bushes. By means whereof he began to cry and call, yet no body answered him but the Echo which resounded thorough the valley: whereby he knew well that Amadis was departed. For this cause he began to make a most sorrowful lamentations, determining to follow him, and to do what he could to find him again, which that he might the better accomplish; he returned where he had left his horse, the which he found, having neither saddle nor bridle upon him, which made him almost beside himself. But as he fretted and sought from one place to another, in the midst of the bushes he espied the harness of his horse, which he sought, wherefore incontinently he saddled him, and mounted upon him, galloping through the forest not knowing which way to take: and in this frenzy he road five days together without any stay at all, but at the side of the villages, where he only tarried to inquire after Amadis. Notwithstanding, he could hear no news of him till the sixth day, that he entered into a meadow wherein was a fountain, hard by the which Amadis had left his armour. There he beheld a Pavilion set up, and two Gentlewomen, unto whom he came, ask them if they had seen a knight pass by, bearing in his shield two Lions sables, in a field Or. We have not seen the knight which you demand after, answered they, but we did find his shield and the rest of his armour upon the brink of this fountain. When Gandalin heard this, he cried out mainly, and ●earing his hair, he said weeping; Ay me, is he dead. Alas what misfortune is happened, the best knight in the world, is he lost? heerewithall did he increase his laments so strangely, as both the Gentlewomen had great compassion upon his misery: Alas my Lord, said he, how badly have I kept you: truly I am worthy to be accounted the most wicked esquire that liveth on the earth, having so lewdly forsaken you, and you who were wont to be the defence and refuge of all distressed persons, have now nor council nor comfort of any living wight, no not of me caitiff as I am, that through my great fault and sluggishness, have left you in your greatest need, even when I ought best to have served you. No sooner had he said these words, but that he fell down in a swound: which when the Gentlewomen beheld, they cried: Alas this esquire is dead, and therewithal they ran unto him, but he moved not in any sort. Nevertheless, they bestirred them so well, as they brought him again to himself, & afterwards they said unto him: my friend, you are to blame thus to despair for a thing whereof you are yet uncertain. It were more convenient for you to go seek your master, seeing that the virtuous (as you ought to be) do increase their strength, even when adversity most assaileth them. Gandalin knew that they said true, and for the same cause he determined (following their counsel) to travail so long from place to place, until he had news of Amadis. But I pray you Gentlewomen, answered he, tell me where you have found his armour? That will we willingly, said they: We were of late in the company of Don Guillan the peasive, who within these few days past, delivered us from the prison of Gandinas' the malicious, with more than twenty other Ladies and Gentlewomen, behaving himself so valiantly, that he hath broken the wicked custom of the Castle, and constrained the Lord thereof to swear, never more to maintain the same. And because every one had liberty to go whether they would, my fellow and I have followed him unto this place, and we have already stayed here this four days, because that when we came hither first, Guillan kn●w the armour of him whom you inquire after, which were left upon the side of the fountain. And I promise you that never knight was more sorrowful than he, for as soon as he beheld them, he alighted from his horse saying. Believe me this place is far unworthy to hold the shield of the best Knight in the world. Then did he take it up from the ground, and hanged it upon this Tree. Which done he mounted again upon his horse, commanding us expressly that we should keep it until he had found the Knight to whom it appertained: And to that end we did set up these Pavilions which you see. Notwithstanding after we had kept the same three whole days, he returned, and arrived but yesterday very late having no news of him at all, and very early this morning he commanded his Esquires to take the rest of his Armour which were here found, and he took off his own shield, to hang about his neck, the other which we did keep. In the doing whereof he wept bitterly and said. Truly shield thou makest a bad exchange of thy Master, for me: afterwards he told us that he went to the Court of king Lisuart to present those spoils unto Queen Brisena, being assured that she would be no less sorrowful than he, for the sad mischance, and we likewise do follow after him, to thank the Queen for the good which Guillan hath done for us, for her sake, as he hath commanded us to do. Then Gandalin bid them farewell, assuring them, that he would find him, upon whom his death or life depended, or else he would end his days in the seeking of him.   

CHAP. VII.  
How Durin returned unto the Princess Oriana, unto whom he declared the sorrowful news of Amadis: and of the great sorrow which she made, after she understood of his despair.  
DVrin having left Patin in the forest (as you have heard) made such great haste to return unto Oriana, to let her know what he had seen of Amadis, as the tenth day following he arrived in the City of London. But so soon as Oriana perceived him, her heart throbbed in such sort, as she was feign to go into her chamber, & lay her down upon her bed before she would speak unto Durin: and shortly after she commanded the damosel of Denmark to cause him to come in, and to see that while she talked with him no other should come where she was.  
Then Durin being on his knees before her, she said unto him: Durin my friend, by the faith thou owest unto me, tell me in what estate thou didst find Amadis, what was his countenance whilst he read my Letter, and what thou thinkest of the Queen Briolania? Madam answered he, by my faith I will tell you the very truth, although I am sure that unto you and others it will seem in a manner incredible. At my departure from hence (as it pleased you to command me) I went without any stay, unto the City of Sobradisa, where I found the Queen Briolania, who (in my opinion) next unto you, is the fairest princess of the world, and of the best grace. There I heard news that my Lord Amadis and his fellows were departed to return unto this Court, but upon the way they did meet with a Gentlewoman, who carried them unto the firmeisland to prove the strange adventures thereof: whereupon incontinently I took my way thither, and there I arrived even as my Lord Amadis passed the Arch of Loyall-lovers, under the which none might pass that had in any sort falsified his first love. How? said she, hath he so rashly enterprised such an adventure, having his disloyalty so fresh before his eyes? I know not Madam answered Durin, how you believe it, but sure I am that it happened better unto him than you think for, seeing that he hath gotten more honour than ever any loyal Knight received, as many can witness by the signs which then appeared. And although at that instant Oriana would have seemed for to dissemble the pleasure which she conceived of these news, yet could she not so cunningly do the same, but that with extreme joy her sudden blushing did increase her beauty, for the assurance she had in the loyalty of Amadis. But Durin continuing his discourse, said unto her Madam, he hath yet done greater things, for after he had finished this so strange adventure, he heard news that my Lords Galaor, Florestan and Agraies thinking to win the forbidden Chamber, were so rudely repulsed from the marble Pillar, that their lives were in great peril, by means whereof my Lord Amadis desirous to revenge their wrongs, with an invincible courage he passed through all the g●●ded places, and maugre all the enchantments, he entered into the Chamber, yet was it not without great danger and travail. Thus did he win the Signory of the firm Island, and all the inhabitants thereof have already sworn unto him homage, and fealty, according to the custom of the Country, which is one of the fairest and strongest places in the world. And I assure you Madam, that it is more than an hundred years since any living creature hath passed the pillars, but only my Lord Amadis: by whose force and strength we have seen all the singular things and riches of the palace of Apolidon, and the adventurous Chamber, which is renowned thorough all the parts of the Earth. During this discourse of his, Oriana was almost ravished with the great ease, and pleasure that she conceived in the hope that one day she should be Lady and owner of such singular things, to her own and her lovers contentment, and said unto Durin. Truly Durin fortune hath been very favourable unto him. Ah Madam answered he, nay rather too rigorous, so as I would to God some other had carried him that unhappy Letter which you writ, & I delivered: how said Oriana, I pray thee tell me, what countenance he showed in reading it? Madam I will tell you since it pleaseth you, answered he, although I am sure that you will be very sort when you shall understand what consequence it turned unto, and the mischief it brought unto the best and faithfullest knight in the world. In what sort, said she. You are the cause of his death, answered Durin. Out Alas, said Oriana, what is it thou tellest me? You have forged the sword that hath wounded him to death, and I carried it to him, so as we are both his murderers. Then declared he the whole circumstance and manner how he delivered the letter, and the despair he entered into after he had read it: so as, said Durin, he did shortly after that, secretly depart from the Palace of Apolidon, with Gandalin, Isania the Governor of the Isle, and me, and we brought him unto an hermitage, where he charged us steightly to follow him no further: then he mounted on horseback, and taking with him neither Helmet, Shield, nor Lance, he fled over a mountain like unto a mad man. Afterward he rehearsed unto her all the talk which particularly he had used unto them, in taking his leave of them, and Durin made this discourse with so many tears, as it was very hard to judge whether he or Oriana had the more sorrowful heart. And know you Madam, said he, that after his departure (notwithstanding his command to the contrary) Gandalin and I followed him, and found him asleep by the side of a fountain, yet his sleep was not long: for suddenly he awaked, and raising himself up, he began to make the greatest lamentation in the world, bewaling King Perion his father, then Mabila, and others his friends. All this while Gandalin and I hid ourselves for fear of his fury, by means whereof without any impeachment of us, he passed the most part of the night in the like lamentations, until about the break of day, that there chanced a knight to come singing a song, which he had made for the love of you, the which Durin recited unto her, as also that which happened unto Patin, which so overcharged the heart of Oriana, that she remained in a swound, looking like one that were dead. The which Durin fearing, he called the Princess Mabila, and the damosel of D●nmarke, unto whom he said. Go help my Lady, who is in a great perplexity for a thing which is now too late to be remedied: and if she hath misdone, the punishment is of due unto her. Herewithal he departed, leaving the women much amazed, for they knew not the cause of this inconvenience, much less how they might re●… the same: nevertheless, they used her in such sort, that she came again unto herself, and casting forth a sigh, she said with a feeble and low voice: Ah wicked woman that I am, when with so great wrong I have deprived him of life, whom in this world I most loved. And seeing it is out of my power now to revoke that mischief, whereof I am the repentant causer, I beseech you (friend) to take my lament in satisfaction of the hurt which I have purchased unto you, with the sacrifice which I shall make of mine own life to follow you unto the death: so the ingratitude which I have committed against your loyalty, shall be manifested, yourself revenged; and I punished. And as she thought to have proceeded further, her speech failed her again, wherewith Mabila and the Gentlewoman were more abashed then before, so that they called Durin to know what heavy news he had brought unto Oriana, who wholly declared it unto them. Let me alone them said Mabila, for I know well how to remedy this matter. Hereupon they unlaced her, and bestirreth them so well, that she brought her to life again: then Mabila demanded of her how she did. Gentle friend (answered she) far better than I desire: So as I rather desire death then life, for now I do nought else but languish. Wherefore Madam, said Mabila: do you think my Cousin so inconstant, that he will not willingly excuse the injury that you have done unto him, knowing that extreme love rather than any other thing constrained you thereunto? And if he be gone, as Durin hath told you, it is but to pass away part of his melancholy, tarrying until his innocency be known unto you: But I am certain, if it pleased you to call him back again, that he is as ready to obey you as ever he was And behold what you shall do: entreat him by a Letter, that he take no regard unto that which you did command him by Durin, and that which you did, was suddenly after a false report made unto you of him: and therefore will him to come unto you to Mirefl●re, where you stay for him to amend your fault at his discretion. Ah my Cousin, answered Oriana, do you think that he will ever vouchsafe, either to respect me, or make one step for me? But do you think, said Mabila, that the love he beareth to you, is of so little force, that he will not be far more glad to recover your good favour, than he hath been sorry to be by you forsaken? I am verily assured, that to die he will not displease you. And to accomplish this matter well, it behoveth the damosel of Denmark to undertake the charge to find him out, because he knoweth her, and putteth his trust in her. Well, answered Oriana, I am content to be advised by you. So she took paper and ink, and as they had determined she did write unto Amadis, afterwards the Letter was given to the Damosel of Denmark, with express commandment to pass first into Scotland, thinking that he might be there with Gandales, rather than in any other place. And the better to colour their enterprise, they advised the damosel to tell the Queen, that Mabila sent her towards the Queen of Scotland her Mother, to understand some news from her: With the which the Queen was well pleased, and gave her a Letter and tokens to present unto her. Thus was the Gentlewoman dispatched, who departed with Durin her brother, and Enil the Cousin of Gandales. And so long they road till they came unto a port town called Vegill, which separateth great Britain from the Realm of Scotland. There they took shipping, and they had the wind so fair, that the sixth day following they landed in the City of Poligez. Then took they their way toward the Knight Gandales, whom they met a hunting: but when he beheld the damosel of Denmark (knowing that she was a stranger) he stayed, inquiring of her what she did seek in that Country. Yourself answered she, towards whom, two Princesses your friends have commanded me to come, to present from them certain presents, which I carry unto the Queen of Scotland. Gentlewoman said he, may it please you to tell me their names: yea willingly sir said she, the one is my Lady Oriana daughter to the mighty king Lisuart, & the other the Princess Mabila whom you know well enough. Ha said Gandales, you are most luckily here arrived: and they have reason to account me their most humble servant, for so I am, & I pray you most heartily to come and alight at my house, then to morrow we will go together to see the Queen: in the mean while do me this pleasure, as to tell me how Amadis doth. The Gentlewoman was herewith much astonished, seeing that she had miss of her purpose: notwithstanding dissembling her sorrow, she answered Gandales: that he was not returned to the Court since he departed thence to revenge Briolania: and it is thought that he is come into these parts with his cousin Agraies, to see the Scottish Queen his Aunt, and you also: for this cause the Queen and other Ladies of his kindred and dear friends, gave me in charge to deliver him a Letter, which will be very welcome unto him I am sure. And the Gentlewoman said thus much, because she knew certainly, that although Amadis would hide him from (knowing that she brought him news from Oriana) others, yet he would change his mind to speak with her. I would said Gandales that he were here, for I have a long time greatly desired to see him. Thus talking together at the last they arrived at the Castle of Gandales, where he feasted the Gentlewoman three days: and the fourth day following, he conducted her unto the Court, where she delivered to the Scottish Queen the Letters and presents which the Queen Brisena had sent unto her.   

CHAP. VIII.  
How Don Guillan the Pensive did bring unto the Court of King Lisuart, the Shield, Armour, and Sword of Amadis, which he had found lying by the Fountain of the plain field.  
AFter that Don Guillan the Pensis was departed from the Fountain where he found Amadis his Armour, he road six days before he arrived in the Court of King Lisuart. And he ordinarily carried the shield of Amadis about his neck, and never took it off, except when he was constrained to fight: then he took his own, fearing to deface the other. And as he road he met with two knights, Cousins to Arcalaus, who incontinently knew the shield of Amadis, and they thought Guillan to be he. Wherefore they (who hated him to the death) determined to assail him, and said one to another: even now will we carry the head of this villain unto our uncle Arcalaus. This they spoke so loud that Guillan heard it, wherewith being thoroughly chafed he answered them. Palliards you reckon without your host, for never did traitor affright me, no more shall you, seeing I know you for kinsmen to Arcalaus, and as wicked as himself: then pulled he down the visor of his Helmet, couched his lance and ran upon them. Now they were young and strong, so that they defended themselves stoutly: notwithstanding at the last they could not long resist him that had charged them. Who after he had some small time fought with them, thrust his sword in the throat of the eldest, and the other fled up towards the top of the mountain, who was not long pursued by Guillan, because he was a little wounded, whereupon he let him go and followed on his way, along the which he road so far, until he arrived at a Castle, belonging unto a knight of his acquaintance, where he lodged for that night, being then very late. But the next day (as he would have departed from his lodging) his host seeing him without a Lance gave him one, from thence he road so long, that he came near a river named Guinon, over the which there was a bridge no brother then for two horses to pass over affront. And approaching more near thereunto, he beheld a knight entering upon the same, whose shield was vert, a bent Argent. This he knew to be his cousin Ladasin; and on the other side he saw another knight ready to fight, who forbade Ladasin from passing over, except he would break a Lance with him, but Ladasin answered him, that he would not stay for so small a thing, and herewithal covering him with his shield, he set spurs unto his horse. As much did he that kept the passage, who was mounted upon a great bay courser, and did bear in his shield Argent a Lion Sables, and his helmet all black. Their encounter was so strong, that Ladasin fell into the water, where without doubt he had been drowned (as well for the weight of his armour, as also for the high of the place from whence he fell) if he had not taken hold of certain willows, by means whereof he got unto the bank side. In the mean season he that had overthrown him returned fair and softly from whence he was departed. Then Guillan seeing his cousin in such danger, ran speedily to help him, and caused him to be pulled up by his squires, and afterwards he said unto him: trust me cousin without the help of these boughs you had been in great danger, and therefore all strange knights should fear to just upon such bridges: for those which do keep such passages have their horses no small time experimenced for the purpose, with whom (more than by their own prowess) they gain the honour and reputation over a number of better knights than themselves are. And as for me, I would rather turn out of the way a days journey, then put myself in such hazard, were it not to revenge you if I can. Now the horse of Ladasin had not followed his master, but was passed over to the other side of the river, and the knight of the bridge his esquires were there ready to take him, who carried him into a pleasant and strong tower, seated in the midst of the water. Wherefore Guillan took his shield, and couched his Lance, he called unto the knight of the bridge, that he should take heed of him, who ran against him, and they met together with a most strong encounter: nevertheless it fell out so well for Guillan, that he overthrew his enemy together with his horse into the river, and himself had sped little better, for he was unhorsed as well as the other, if in falling his horse had not slipped by the one side of him, and he taken hold of certain stakes, by the which he got upon the bridge again, from whence he might perceive the knight in the river, who having caught hold by the tail of the horse of 〈◊〉, was brought to shore on the one side, and his horse came to the otherside, where the Squires of L●dasin were ready to take hold of him. Thus against their wills the two knights made exchange of their horses, and therefore Guillan sent unto the knight to tell him, that if he would restore his horse and his fellows, that they would send over his which their Esquires had taken, and then they would depart. What answered the knight unto him that brought the message, think they to escape so lightly from my hands● yea truly said the other, for they have done as much as the custom of the passage requireth. Not yet answered the knight, because we were both overthrown: and therefore they must win the bridge by the sword, if they will pass over. Will you then said the other, compel them to fight? I think you should be satisfied with this injury which already you have done unto them, seeing that all bridges ought to be free for every passenger. I care not answered the knight, go tell them, they must feel (will they nile they) how my sword cutteth: then he leapt upon his horse most lightly without any help of his stirrup, afterwards coming near unto Guillan, he said unto him very fiercely and boldly: knight your ambassador hath been over tedious in delivering his message, but before you escape me, you must of force tell me, whether you be any of the subjects to a king called Lisuart, or any of his household. Wherefore? answered Guillan, I would it were my luck, said the other, to have him now in your ●●eede, for by my head he should not reign one day longer. When Guillan heard him say so, none could be more angry than he was, 〈◊〉 therefore 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 in good faith knight, if king 〈◊〉 my Lord were in 〈…〉 I 〈◊〉 very sure, that he would easily 〈◊〉 thee acknowledge 〈◊〉 thy 〈…〉 gr●… 〈◊〉 to fig●… them 〈◊〉 I had ag●… knights And if I 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 ●…i●●t, and 〈◊〉 knight of his 〈◊〉 〈◊〉▪ will cha●ti 〈…〉 so good 〈…〉 not believe that 〈◊〉 the 〈…〉 before it be no one, I will 〈◊〉 glad ●o ●●●ry a message ●…o him, notwithstanding 〈…〉 shalt know both 〈◊〉 I am, 〈◊〉 what pr●s●… I will 〈…〉 by thee, Guillan 〈◊〉 very much stiff pleased▪ wi●h the knights words▪ 〈◊〉 hardly would he have deferve th● combat so long, 〈◊〉 is ●o● 〈◊〉 that had promised 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 him his name, wherefore he stayed a while to hear what he would say. Know thou tho● said the Knight, that I am Gan●… son to Barson, had Lord of ●●●s●ega, whom King 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 most trea●…y did 〈…〉 d●●th in the Ci●●y of ●●ndon. That presents which I will send unto him by thee, sh●ll be the heads of four knights of his C●… I 〈◊〉 pisoners (and one of them i● 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 his nephew) together with thy right hand also, which I will hang about thy neck, after I have separated it from thy 〈◊〉 ●ild 〈◊〉 answered Guillan, if thou 〈◊〉 ●…forme that thou ●●●ggest of, it were a great deal, but I bele●●● thou shalt prove thyself a li●●, and so saying h●● 〈◊〉 at 〈◊〉. Then there began 〈◊〉 on them 〈◊〉 sharp and cruel Co●… 〈◊〉 without any breathing, they, laid at each other so fiercely, that Lad●sin and his esquire● who were present, did not think that any of them could escape the death. Nevertheless, they behaved themselves so valiantly, that one could not judge who had the best: for they were expert knights, hardy, and exercised in arms, so that knowing how to defend themselves, few blows could hurt them to the quick. Now when their battle was at the hottest, they heard the winding of a horn from the top of the tower, where withal Guillan was abashed. thinking it to be some new supply come to his enemy, and on the other side, G●ndalod suspected it to be some revolt of the captives which he had in his prisons. And therefore either of them did their best to vanquish his enemy, before the succours should come: so that suddainnly G●ndalod rushed upon Guillan thinking to unhorsed him, but Guillan embraced him so hard, that they both fell to the ground tumbling one over another, yet holding their swords fast in their hands, but it happened so well for Guillan, that he had his enemy under him. By means whereof, before the other could rise, he gave him five or six great blows with his sword, which in such sort amazed him, that from thenceforth he waxed more feeble. Notwithstanding, getting up upon his feet, he both well defended himself, and better assailed his adversary, giving sufficient knowledge of the little good will he wished unto his enemy: who so sorely oppressed upon him, that he was constrained to recoil and turn his back. Therefore Guillan marking where he was worst armed, did hit him such a blow with his sword upon the ●…e, that ●oe quite parted it from his shoulder. So 〈◊〉 with the extreme grie●e thereof he cast fo●… a loud cry, ●●lyin●… towards the tower: but Guill●● overtook him, and laid so fast hold upon his helmet, that he pulled it from his head. Then s●●ting his sword to his throat, he said unto him. Believe me Sir, you shall now go to the king to present him with other heads than you determined, but if you will not obey me, your own shall satisfy me. Alas, answered Gandalod, I had rather yield myself to the mercy of the King, then to die presently. Where upon after he had given his faith unto Guillan, they mounted on horseback, and Ladasin with them. At that instant, they heard a great tumult within the tower, and beheld one of the warders running away, who●● they stayed to know what the ●…ter was: who told them that the prisoners had found the means to unbind themselves, and to come forth of the dungeon wherein they were kept, afterwards ho● they were armed, and had already slain the most part of his fellows. He had no sooner ended his speech, when he beheld some of those, which he spoke of, over the gate of the tower, and three or four others which pursued a knight, and seven halberdiers, that fled towards a wood hard by, and when those which had gained their liberty, perceined Guillan and Ladasin, they cried unto them, that they should kill those traitors that had scaped from them, Wherefore Guillan & his cousin ran before and slew sour of them: the rest ●aued themselves with their lightness, excepting only the knight who was taken. Then came the prisoners to salute Guillan, whom they all knew, & after some talk which they had together, Guillan said unto them: my Lords, I cannot tarry long with you, for I am constrained to go forthwith to King Lisuart, but my cousin Ladasin shall bea● you company until you have refreshed you, and afterwards I pray you to come unto the Court, & to bring with you these two knights, whom I deliver into your keeping, until king Lisuart have taken such order for them, as to his Majesty shall seem best: and let one of you remain here for the guard of this place, until I have otherwise provided for it. The which they promised him to perform, thus taking leave of them he took his shield from his neck, and gave it unto his esquires, and taking the shield of Amadis (as he was accustomed) the tears stood in his eyes. Where-withal the others being much abashed, demanded of him, what moved him thus to take his shield from his neck, and place another in steed thereof with so great sorrow. Ah, answered he, this shield belongeth to the best knight in the world, them he rehearsed unto them the manner how he had found it, with the rest of the armour of Amadis, whom he had since searched for through all the country, without hearing any news of him: wherewithal every one of them were very sorry, seating lest some great misfortune had happened him. Thus Guillan followed on his way, and road so long that (without any further trouble) he arrived in the Court of king Lisuart: where it was already known how Amadis had ended the adventures of the Firmeisland, & gained the signory thereof: in like sort how he was departed from thence secretly, in great anguish. Nevertheless they knew nothing of the cause thereof, except thos● whom I before have told you of: Thus Guillan entered into the hall, having about his neck the shield of Amadis, who was presently known of all the assembly, wherefore they flocked about him to hear what he would say, but the king was for most, who demanded what newe● he had of Amadis. It may please your majesty, answered Guillan, I know none: nevertheless, if it please you I will before the Queen recite how I did find his armour, sword, and his shield which hee●… you may see. Truly said the king. I am very well pleased, for since 〈◊〉 was her knight, it is reason that 〈◊〉 first know what is become of h●… Saying so he took Guillan by t●… hand, & led him where the Queen was. Then Guillan kneeling dow●, said unto her weeping. Madame, not many days since I found all the armour of Amadis, with his shield left all alone hard by a fountain, which is called the fountain of the plain field: wherewithal I was so sorrowful, that even at the same instant I fastened the shield upon 〈◊〉 tr●e, leaving in it the keeping of two Gentlewomen, that were in my company, until that I had gone through the country, to inquire where he was become. But I was neither so fortunate to find him, nor so happy to hear any 〈◊〉 of him, wherefore knowing the disert of so good a knight, who had never any desire, but to employ himself to do you service, I determined seeing I could no● bring him to you, to bring you his arms, as witness of the duty which I do owe both to your Majesty, and also to him: the which you may command (if you please) to ●ee set in an open place, where every one may see them, as well to hear news of him, by such strangers as ordinarily repair unto his Court, as also to encourage all such as follow arms, to take example by him that was owner of them: who by his high knighthood, hath gained the chiefest reputation amongst all those that ever buckled cuirasse on their backs. When the Queen understood such news of Amadis, never was any Lady more sorrowful, and answered Guillan: It is great pity for the loss of so good a Knight: for I am sure that many at this day do live, which will be sorry for his loss: and I give you most hearty thanks for that which you have done for him and me together: assuring you, that those which will put themself forward to find him shall give me and all other Lady's cause to wish them well for his sake, which was so much at their commandment. But if the Queen for these news was any whit sorry, the king and those of his company were no less sad: yet was it nothing to the grief which Oriana sustained. For if before she was vexed for the great fault which she had committed, at that instant her pain redoubled with so great a melancholy, that it was impossible for her to stay there any longer, but she withdrew herself into her chamber. And casting her down upon her bed she began to cry: Ah wicked woman that I am, I may now well say, that all the felicity that ever I had is but a plain dream, and my torment is a very certain truth, seeing that if I receive any contentment, It is only by the dreams which do nightly solicit me, for when I awake all ●roward Fortune afflicteth my poor spirit, so as if the day be unto me a grie●… martyred on●…, th● darkness only bringeth me p●… sure and comfort, because sleep I think that I am before my sweet friend, but being awak●… quite deprived of that great joy, maketh me too much to ●eele 〈◊〉 a●sence. Ah my eyes, no more e●es but floods of tears, you are much abused, seeing that being shut you only behold him that co●… you: and no sooner opened, but all the ●orment in the world cometh at once to blind them: at the ●east this death which I feel so near at hand shall deliver me from this care: and you sweet friend 〈◊〉 be revenged of the most ingrateful woman that ever was borne. Then like a furious woman 〈◊〉 rose up, determining to throw herself headlong from the window down to the ground but 〈◊〉 who had followed her preventing such an inconvenience stayed her, setting before her the infamy which she might get, if it were but known that she were so minded: and moreover she did assure her that Amadis would shortly return, ●aying unto her: How now Madam? where is the constancy of a King's daughter, and that wisdom for which you are so much renowned? Have you already forgotten the mischief that was likely to have happened unto you, by means of the false news that Arcalaus brought unto the Court this last year? And now because Guillan hath found my Cousin's arms, is it therefore likely that he should be dead? Believe me, you shall see him again shortly, & he will come unto you so soon as he hath seen your Letters.  
This Counsel was authorised with such perswasine reasons, that Oriana ap●●sed part of her ●orme● But yet these news so greatly troubled her mind, that had it not been for the wisdom of Mabila (who often times persuaded her to be quiet) there had happened a marvelous inconnenience: but in the end she knew so well how to prevail with her, that she resolved upon this, that the Gentlewoman of Denmark would bring him again. And as they were in these terms, one came to tell them that the knights and Gentlewomen which Guillan had delivered from prison were arrived, wherefore Mabila seeking to withdraw Oriana from fancies, brought her where the Queen was, unto whom the two Gentlewomen (that had kept the shield of Amadis) recited the lamentation which they had seen an Esquire make, when he knew the Armour and Shield that Guillan had found upon the side of the Fountain of the plain field. The King was likewise present in whose eyes stood a flood of Tears, thinking assuredly that Amadis was dead. Then Ladasin and his fellows were seen to come in, who brought with them Gandalod prisoner, together with the other knight, whom they presented unto the king on the behalf of Guillan, declaring unto him both the manner of the Combat, the talk that passed between Gandalod and Guillan, and also how that during their encounter, the knights that were in the deep dungeon of his tower had found the means to deliver themselves. Is this true said he to Gandalod, I caused not long since thy father to be burned in this city, for his great treason, and thou shalt likewise be there hanged with thy companion, because thou hadst conspired my death. Then forthwith he commanded them to be hanged over the City wales right over against the place where Barsinan was burned as it hath been recited unto you.   

CHAP. IX.  
How the Fair Forlorn being in the poor Rock with the Hermit, there arrived a ship, in the which was Corisanda, who sought for her friend Florestan, and of that which happened unto them.  
ONe day the Fair Forlorn being set hard by the Hermit, near unto the door of their little house, the old man said unto him: I pray you my son, tell me the dream that you had, when you awaked on a sudden sleeping hard by me near unto the Fountain of the plain field. Truly father answered he, I will willingly tell it you, and I most humbly beseech you likewise to let me understand, be it for good, or bad, what you think thereof. Afterwards he recited the dream in such sort as you have heard, keeping only the names of the Gentlewomen secret.  
Then the Hermit remained a good while pensive, when he beholding the Fair Forlorn, he began to smile, and said unto him: My child, I assure you, that you have now more cause to rejoice then ever you had: but yet I would have you know how I understand it. The dark chamber in the which you thought yourself to be, out of which you were not able to come forth, signifieth this great tribulation wherein you now are. The Gentlewomen which afterwards opened the door unto you, are some of your friends that continually solicit your cause unto the Lady whom you so fervently love, with whom they have so much prevailed, that they shall withdraw you from this place. The Sunbeam which went before them, are Letters of reconciliation that she sendeth unto you: by means whereof you shall leave me. The fire that environed this lady, showeth the great love, together with the sad laments that she maketh for your absence, as well as you do for hers. And by the fair garden whereunto you did bear her, drawing her forth of the flame, signifieth the great pleasure which you shall both have at your meeting. Truly my Son, I know that seeing the habit and estate whereunto I am called, such speeches as these become me not at all: nevertheless knowing that it is for your good, I am sure that I do not amiss in this counseling a person so comfortless as you are. Here-with all the Fair Forlorn fell upon the ground to kiss his feet, rejoicing that he had happened into the company of a person so holy, that knew how to comfort him so well in his adversity, desiring very heartily, that whatsoever the holy man had told him, might so come to pass, and he said unto the Hermit, my Father seeing it hath pleased you to do me so much good, as to expound this dream, I pray you likewise to tell me the meaning of one other, which I dreamt the night before I came from the firm-Island.  
Then did he recite it word by word unto him. Whereupon the aged man answered him. My son, by this you may plainly see that which already is happened unto you, for I assure you that the place over shadowed with trees, where you thought that you were, & the great number of people which at the first made such great joy about you, signifieth the firm Island which you have conquered, to the great pleasure of all the inhabitants thereof. But the man which came unto you with a box full of bitterness, is the messenger of the Lady that gave you the letter: and yourself doth know better than any other, whether he brought you bitterness or no, by the discourse which he had with you. The sorrow which afterwards you did behold in the persons which before were so joyful, are they of the Isle, who at this present are very heavy for your absence. The apparel which you threw off, are the tears which you have shed. The stony place wherein you entered environed with water, this rock witnesseth to you what it is. The riligious man that did speak unto you in an unknown language, is myself, who do instruct you in holy writ, which you neither understand, nor can comprehend. Father answered the Fair-Forlorn. I know verily that you say the truth which giveth me great hope of that which you have declared of the other: but the continual grief and melancholy wherein I live, hath already overmastered me, that I believe if the good which you promise unto me do not the soon●● ease my care, death will first seize upon my sorrowful corpse.  
Notwithstanding the Hermit knew how to persuade him so well, that from thenceforth he showed a little merrier countenance then before he had done, and began to turn his sorrow to some solace, using to angle for fish with two Nephwes of the old man, that kept him company. Nevertheless, the most part of the time he withdrew himself into a secret place hard by the sea side, which was over-shadowed with diverse sorts of trees: and there oftentimes he cast his sight unto the Firmeisland, which put him in remembrance of those favours whereunto fortune had called him, & the wrong that Oriana did unto him, he having never offended. Alas, said he, have I deserved this entertainment to be banished, without having offended so much as in thought? Truly dear friend, if my death were agrieable unto you, you have mean enough to give it me more speedily, without making me thus to live in languishing. The only denial of your good grace, the very first day that you accepted me for your knight, had been sufficient at that time to have made me die a thousand deaths. Many other lamentations did the Fair Forlorn every day make, in this solitary place, wherein he took so great pleasure, that oftentimes he there passed away both the day and the night: so as one time finding himself more frolic in his mind, then of a long time he had been, he made this song following.  

Sith that the victory of right deserved,  
By wrong they do withhold for which I served;  
Now ●ith my glory thus hath had a fall,  
Glorious it is, to end my life withal.  
By this my death likewise my woes release,  
My hope, my joy, m'inflamed love doth cease.  
But ever will I mind my during pain:  
For they to end my glory, and my gain,  
Myself have murdered, and my glory slain.   
Thus the Fair Forlorn passed away the time, waiting until fate or better fortune should bring him forth of this misery. But it happened that one night lying under the trees (as he was accustomed) about the break of day he heard very nigh him the sound of a most sweet instrument, wherein he took so great pleasure, that he gave attentive ear thereunto a good while, amazed notwithstanding from whence it might proceed. Knowing the place to be solitary that no other there remained but the hermit, his two Nephews, and himself: wherefore he rose up, without making any noise at all, and approached more near to see what it might be. Then he beheld two young Gentlewomen sitting by a fountain, who (tuning their voyses to the sound of a lute) did sing a most pleasant song: nevertheless fearing to trouble their mirth, he stood still a great while without being by them perceived. Afterwards he came forth and disclosed himself, saying unto them: Truly Gentlewomen your music hath made me this day to loose Matins, for the which I am very sorry. When these women heard him speak (having not seen him at all until that time) they were much afraid. Norwithstanding, one of them more bold than her fellow, answered him: My friend, we did not think to offend you with this our mirth, but seeing we have so luckily found you, tell us (if it please you) who you are, and how this desert place is called. In truth fair Gentlewomen, said the Fair Forlorn, this place is called the poor Rock: wherein there liveth an Hermit, upon the top thereof in his little hermitage. As for me, I am a poor man that keep him company, doing great and hard penance for the sin and wickedness which I have committed. Gentle friend, answered they, may we find in this place (for two or three days only) any house wherein we may place at ease a Lady both rich & mighty, so tormented with love, that she is even at death's door therewith. Trust me said he, there is no other lodging in this Rock, but the little cabinet wherein the Hermit doth lie, and one other that I do sleep in sometime: but if the Hermit will lend you mine, I am content (to do you a pleasure) to lie in the mean time abroad in the fields, as I commonly use to do. The Gentlewoman gave him hearty thanks, and bidding him good morrow they departed towards a Pavilion: within the which the Fair Forlorn beheld a most beautiful Lady upon a bed. Whereupon he knew that the same was she of whom they told him. But looking farther off, he did see four armed men walking by the Sea side, who scouted abroad, whilst five others did take their rest, and he also perceived a ship at Anchor well appointed. The Sun was already up, when he heard the Hermitage bell to ring, which made him go up thither. Where he found the Hermit making him ready to go to service: unto whom he told that there were people newly arrived in the Rock, and that if it were his pleasure, he would willingly go call them to hear Matins. Go then answered the Hermit, and I will stay for them. And as he went down the Rock, he met the Lady, whom the knights carried toward the hermitage: wherefore he returned, to help to make ready the Hermit, who seeing the Lady was come, began service. Then the Fair Forlorn being amongst the women, began to remember the time when he was in the Court of king Lisuart, and of the pleasure he was won to have with the Princess Oriana, & therewithal he began to weep so bitterly, that the Gentlewomen perceived it, and did very much wonder thereat. Notwithstanding they thought that it was for the contrition of his sins, and seeing him young, fair, and comely, they could not think what to presume thereof. When the Hermit had made an end of service, they came to salute him, praying him for God's sake, to lend them some little chamber for their Lady (who was weary of the Sea, and extremely sick) wherein she might take her rest, for a day or twain. In truth fair Ladies, answered he, there are here no more than two small Cabinets, in one of them I remain (and if I can so long as I live, never woman shall come therein) and the other is for this poor man, which doth such great penance, wherein sometimes he sleepeth, and I would be very sorry that he should be put out thereof against his will. Father said the Fare Forlorn, do not let for me to do them a pleasure, for I am very well content for this time to have no other lodging then under the Trees. Well said the hermit, let it be so a God's name. Then the Fair Forlorn conducted them unto his Cabinet, where the Gentlewomen set up a rich bed for their Mistress, who was forthwith carried thither. And because it was told the Fair Forlorn that her sickness proceeded of extreme love, he took more heed to her behaviour then to any of the rest: and he perceived that her eyes were still full of Tears, and her sighs were at commandment: Wherefore he drew the two Gentlewomen apart, whom in the morning he had found playing on the Lute, & earnestly entreated them to tell the occasion of the great sickness that their Mistress sustained. Friend answered they, if you mark her well you shall find that she is very fair, although that now her disease hath abated a great part of her beauty: for she hath neither comfort nor joy by reason of the absence of a knight that she goeth to seek in the house of King Lisuart, whom she so fervently loveth, that if short time do not grant some ease to her passion, it is impossible that her life should continue long. When the Fair Forlorn heard king Lisuart named, he could not refrain from tears, and he had a greater desire than before, to know the name of the knight that she loved: therefore he requested them very earnestly to tell him his name, in good sooth answered the Gentlewoman, hardly may you know him: for he is not of this country: yet is he esteemed the best knight in the world, next unto two other of his kin. Alas my fair gentlewoman said he, for God's sake name him unto me, and the two other whom you so much extol. Truly answered they, we are contented, upon this condition, that first when we have done, you do tell us whether you be a knight or not, and afterward your name. I am content therewith, said the Fair Forlorn, so great is my desire to know that which I demand of you. Then one of them said unto him: the knight which this Lady loveth, is called Don Florestan, brother to the good Knight Amadis of Gaul, and to Don Galaor, and he is the son of King Perion of Gaul, and of the Countess of Salandria. You say true answered he, and I verily believe that you cannot say so much good of him as he deserveth. What? said the Gentlewomen, do you know him then? It is not long said he, since I did see him in the house of Queen Briolanie, for whom his brother Amadis, and his cozen Agraies did fight against Abise●s and his two sons, and thither he with his brother Galaor arrived some few days after the combat: and I think him to be one of the fairest knights in the world. As concerning his prowess, I have many times heard Don Galaor himself speak thereof, who fought a combat with him as he said. This combat said she, was the cause that he left my Lady in the self same place, where they first knew one another. I think then answered the Fair Forlorn, that she is called Corisanda. You say true said the Gentlewomen. In truth answered he, I am no less sorry for her sickness then before, for I know Florestan to be so wise, and of so good behaviour, that I am sure he will do all that which she shall command him. God grant it said she, but seeing we have satisfied you, acquire you of your promise and tell us who you are. Gentlewoman answered the Fair Forlorn, I am a knight who have heretofore had more pleasure in the vanities of the world then now I have, for the which I here abide sharp penance, my name is the Fair Forlorn. By my truth said one of them, you have taken a good course, if you are able therein to continue. And because there is no reason now to leave our Mistress all alone in this her great melancholy, we bid you farewell, and do go unto her to pass away the time with such music as you did hear this morning.  
Then the Fair Forlorn departed, but he was presently called back again, for as soon as the gentlewomen had played two or three songs, they rehearsed unto Corisanda all that he had said of Florestan, and that the poor man which did penance, had seen him not many days before. Wherefore she sent to pray him to come unto her, and in the mean while she said unto her women: assure you this Hermit that knoweth Florestan, must needs be some great parsonage disguised. At the same instant the Fair Forlorn was come, and she said unto him: my friend, my women tell me that you know Don Florestan, and that you do very well love him, I pray you (by the holy order that you profess) to tell me what acquaintance you have had with him, and where you did last see him. Then the Fair Forlorn told her more of him then he had told unto the Gentlewomen, and how he knew very well, that he and his brethren, with their cozen Agraies, had been in the Firmeisland: for he had there left them, and never since had seen them. Ah said she, I believe that you are something a kin unto him, seeing the great good you report of him. Madame, answered the Fair Forlorn, I love him entirely, as well for his valour, as also for that his father made me knight, which maketh me the more bounden unto his children: and I am very sorry for the news that I have hard of Amadis before I did come unto this desert. What are they said Corisanda. Truly answered he, coming hither I met with a Gentlewoman at the entry of a Forest which sung a pleasant song for the tune, but very pitiful by reason of the matter that it contained. Then I inquired of her who made it, and she answered me, that it was a knight, unto whom God (if it be his pleasure) send more joy than he had when he made it, for his song doth very well witness, that his grief proceeded from too extreme love. And because I liked it well, I remained with the Gentlewoman so long until I had learned it: moreover she did assure me that Amadis did make it, and that he did show her the song at that time when by his melancholy he was most mastered. I pray you said Corisanda, teach it unto these two Gentlewomen, for by that which you say, love held him then in as great bondage as he now holdeth me. I will do it answered he, both for the honour of him and also of you, althought it be a thing far unseemly for me to do. Herewithal he withdrew the Gentlewomen a part, and taught them the song with the tune thereof, wherein they took great pleasure, because the Fair Forlorn did sing it with a lamentable and soft voice, which yielded more harmony and aptness, both to the tune and the matter, than he could if he had been at more liberty in body and mind: and the Gentlewomen learned it so cunningly, that many times after they did sing it before their Mistress, who tarried four days in the poor Rock, & the fifth she embarked. But before she departed, she demanded of the Fair forlorn, whether he would remain any long time in that place. Madame, answered he, nothing but my death shall draw me from hence. I do much marvel said Corisanda, what moveth you to do so: yet seeing that you are in such a mind, I will in no sort dissuade yond from it: so saying, she entered into her ship with her company, bidding the Hermit farewell. Then setting sail, the wind was so favourable, that in few days after they landed in Great Britain, and arrived in the City of London, where at that time King Lisuart remained. Who knowing of her arrival, he together with his Queen received her royally. The King to honour her the more, caused her to be lodged in his own Palace. And some few days after, as they were discoursing together, the Queen said unto her, Good cozen, the King charged me to tell you, that he taketh your coming hither to fee him so thankfully, that if you have any thing to do with him, he will employ his best means to pleasure you. Madame, answered Corisanda, I give the King most humble thanks, and your grace also: there is nothing that importuneth me more, than the absence of Don Florestan, whom I thought to have found in this Court. cozen said the Queen, we have at this time no other news, of him, but that he is gone in search of his brother Amadis, who of late is lost, we not knowing the cause thereof. Then she told her how he had won the Firmeisland, and that afterwards he departed secretly from his fellows: especially the manner how Don Guillan did find his armour, and what diligence he had used to understand what was become of him. When Corisanda did see that she was frustrate of her intention, and understood the loss of Amadis, the tears stood in her eyes, saying: Alas what will become of my Lord and friend Florestan, I am sure (considering the love that he beareth unto his brother) that if he cannot find him, he will lose himself, so that I shall never while I live see him any more: the Queen comforted her so well, that she received some hope to hear news from him very shortly. Now Oriana was by, who had heard all this talk, and the love that Corisanda did bear unto Don Florestan, brother to Amadis: for which cause she had the more desire to do her honour, so as she and Mabila did ordinarily keep her company, taking great pleasure to hear her recite the love that passed betwixt her and her friend, the cause of their parting, and the travel which afterwards she had endured in hope to find him. And as she made this discourse, she remembered her of the time when she remained in the poor Rock, where she found a knight doing penance, who during her abode there, taught a song unto her women: which Amadis had made being in great melancholy, as the companion of the Hermit had assured her. Madam answered Mabila, I pray you seeing your Gentlewomen have learned it, command them to sing it before my Lady Oriana: for I shall be very glad to hear it, seeing it is made by Amadis, who is mine own cozen. Believe me said Corisanda, I am very well content, assuring you that it cannot better please you then it will delight me, because of the nearness of the lineage that is betwixt my Lord Florestan & him. Then she sent for the gentlewomen's Lutes, who played and did sing the song of Amadis so sweetly, that it ministered both mirth & moan unto the Ladies which unto them listened: joy to the ear, content for the melody, and grief to the mind, in feeling his passion, that was so grievously pained. But Oriana whom it most of all touched, took more heed unto the matter then the music, knowing the mischief whereof she was cause, and the great reason that Amadis had to complain. Where-upon she was suddenly stricken with so great sorrow, that she went into a wardroabe, ashamed for the tears that had issued from her eyes in so good a company, from which she could not abstain. Notwithstanding as she withdrew herself, Mabila (to cover this fault) said unto Corisanda: So far as I perceive, Oriana is not well, wherefore I am constrained to leave your company at this time, and to go help her: nevertheless, if it pleased you, I would willingly know what was the behaviour of him that taught your Gentlewomen the song, and wherefore he remained in the poor Rock: for no doubt he did then know what was become of Amadis. Then Corisanda rehearsed unto her in what sort they did find him, and the talk he had with her: but said she, I did never see a man more pensive, nor more fair, considering the miseries he endured. Mabila very suddenly began to suspect that it was Amadis himself, who being so far from all hope, had chosen such a solitary place, because he would not be seen of any living wight, and at the same instant she departed towards Oriana, whom she found weeping bitterly. Unto whom (with a smiling countenance) she said. Madame, in seeking after news, sometimes one learneth more than he thinketh upon, witness this which I have understood of Corisanda. The knight so sad, that is named the Fair Forlorn, in the poor Rock, is Amadis and no other, who desirous to obey your commandment hath in such sort withdrawn himself, because he would neither be seen of you, not of any other person: therefore I pray you rejoice, for you shall shortly draw him hither again. Alas answered Oriana, may it be possible? I would I might be so fortunate to embrace him in my arms before I die, and believe me cozen (said she to Mabila) that if I may once again have him, I will give him such an occasion to pardon me, that he shall forget all the wrong which I have done unto him. But then very suddenly like a person doubtful and fearful to lose that which she loved, she began to make a greater lamentation than before, crying: Ah my cozen, have pity upon me, I am in worse case than if I were dead, unfortunate woman as I am: I have justly lost by my folly, him upon whom my good, my joy, and my life doth wholly depend. How now Madam, said Mabila, even when most hope is presented unto you, do you then most torment yourself? Assute you upon my faith, if the Gentlewoman of Denmark do not bring you news of him, that I will find the means to supply her want: being sure, that it is he which nameth himself the Fair Forlorn, and no other, and repose you upon me herein.   

CHAP. X.  
How the Gentlewoman of Denmark going in search of Amadis, after long travel, costing along many strange Islands, by chance she arrived in the poor Rock, where Amadis was, who was called the Fair Forlorn, whom she knew, & how they returned together towards Oriana.  
TEn whole days did the damosel of Denmark remain with the Queen of Scotland, not so much for her pleasure, nor for to rest herself from the storms of the Sea, as for the desire she had to learn some news of Amadis, in the country wherein she thought assuredly to find him: being assured that if she should return unto her Mistress, without bringing her some news, that she could not afterwards live one hour, knowing in what anguish she had left her. Nevertheless, not being able at that instant to take any better course in her affairs, after she had used all the diligence therein that possibly she could, she determined to return into Great Britain, so sorrowful as might be. Then she caused a ship to be ready, wherein she embarked: but the destinies pitying these two persons, would in this matter make manifest how much they could perform, in giving worldlings to understand, that no man (how valiant or discreet soever) can help themselves without their divine aid. For as soon as the Mariners had weighed their anchors & hoist their sails, hoping to set their course for London, the wind and tempest raised such a storm, that without any steerage at all, the ship was tossed with so great rage, that the Mariners and all the rest despairing of health, expected no other burial but in the fishes bellies. And thus they remained two days and two nights, not knowing where they were, much less what they should do. In the end, the Sea being appeased, and the storm past, about the break of day they discovered the poor Rock, where they took landing: and because some of the Mariners (who knew the place) did tell the damosel of Denmark, that Andahod the devout Hermit had there his residence, she determined to go hear divine service, & to give God thanks for the good that he had done for them in delivering them from such peril: and without longer stay she began to go up the Rock, accompanied with Durin and evil. At the same time the Fair Forlorn (who by chance had passed that night under the trees, as he was accustomed) perceived them, and seeing that they came towards him, because he would not be seen he turned another way, and got to the Hermitage before them, where he found the Hermit ready to say service. But he told him that there were people newly arrived, who were coming up the Rock, and therefore it were good to stay, if he pleased, unto the which the Hermit willingly agreed. At the same time was the Fair Forlorn so lean, wan, and so tanned with the heat of the Sun, that he could hardly be known for Amadis, for his continual weeping made such furrows in his face, that there was nothing to be discerned but skin and bone. And as the Gentlewoman and her company entered into the Chapel, he was upon his knees lifting up his eyes to the heavens and praying that either by his speedy death his care might be ended, or in prolonging his days some present comfort might be afforded unto him. Whilst he was thus praying, the Hermit began his service, during which time the Fair Forlorn did not once look up, to behold any of them arrived until it was ended, who casting his eyes upon them, he knew the damosel of Denmark & the rest. Therewithal he felt such a motion that (both by reason of his great weakness, as also by seeing of her that put him in mind of all his martyrdom) he fell down all along upon the ground, wherefore the Hermit thinking that he had been dead, cried out: Ay me is he gone? then God have mercy upon his soul. Saying so, a flood of tears fell from his eyes down upon his long hoary beard. Then he said unto the damosel of Denmark: I pray you Gentlewoman for charity sake, command your Esquires that they may help me to bear my fellow into his chamber, for so far as I see it shall be the last good that we can do for him. Whereupon Enil and Durin took him up, neither of them knowing him. But the Damosel of Denmark demanded of the Hermit what he was. Truly answered he, it is a knight which liveth here in penance. Trust me said the damosel, he hath chosen a very austere life, and in a very desert place. He hath done it, answered the Hermit, to separate himself from the vanities of the world. Verily said the Gentlewoman, seeing you assure me that he is a knight, I will see him before I depart: and if there be any thing within the ship, which may serve his turn, I will cause it to be left for him. It shall be well done answered he, but so far as I see, he is so near his end, that I believe he will ease you of that labour. Herewithal the damosel entered into the little chamber where the Fair Forlorn was laid, who seeing her so near unto him, knew not what he should do: for he thought that making himself to be known, he should transgress the commandment of his Oriana, and also if she departed, and he not discovered, he should remain void of all hope. In the end he concluded that it were less hurtful for him to die, than his Lady should be displeased, therefore he determined for resolution not to manifest himself in any sort unto the damosel of Denmark, who said unto him. My friend I have been informed by the Hermit that you are a knight, and because all Gentlewomen are greatly bound unto good knights, for the benefits and pleasures that they commonly receive at their hands in defending them, and delivering them from many and great dangers, I had a great desire before I departed to see you, to give unto you such provisions as are in my ship, that shall be necessary for your health. Notwithstanding, he answered her nothing, neither did he any other thing but lament and sigh: and because that in that little Cell wherein he remained, there was little light, the Gentlewoman did not know whether he were a dying or no. Whereupon she was ware of a window, which she opened, by the light whereof she might behold him more at ease: but all the while that she beheld him, he never cast his eyes off from her, nevertheless he spoke not one word, but sighed without ceasing, like unto a wight, whose heart was overcharged with woe, which moved the Damosel to exceeding pity. And comforting him in the best sort she could, by chance she espied a scar which he had upon his face, with a blow that Arcalaus the Enchanter had given him, when he rescued Oriana, as hath been recited in the first Book. Wherefore she thought in her mind that without doubt this was Amadis whom she sought, and at the instant she did know that he was even the same, & for the same cause she being grealy amazed, cried out, Alas what do I see? My Lord you are he that hath made me have many a weary journey to find you: this said, she embraced him. Alas my Lord said she, it is now high time to extend both pity and pardon unto her, who (procured thereunto by some sinister report, hath brought you to this great extremity) believe me, doth now justly endure a life worse than death: then did she deliver him the Letter that Oriana had written unto him. Hold said she, your Lady sendeth you this, and commandeth you by me, that if you be the same Amadis that you were wont to be, and he whom she so much loveth, that (forgetting all passed faults) you come unto her to the Castle of Mirefleur, where a full satisfaction shall be made unto you, for the sorrows and anguishes which you have suffered for your over fervent love. Herewithal was the Fair Forlorn so greatly ravished, that it was a long time before he could answer one word, but he took the Letter which he kissed without ceasing, and afterwards put it next unto his heart, saying▪ O poor heart so long time passioned, that hardly hast thou been able to resist such a tempest, notwithstanding the abundance of tears, which thou so continually hast distilled, that it hath almost brought thee even to the point of death, receive now this medicine, the which only is convenient for thy health, and come forth of this darkness, which so long hath blinded thee, taking thy strength again unto thee, to serve her that of her own free grace causeth thee to revive. Then opened he the Letter which contained  
The Letter of Oriana to Amadis.  
IF great faults committed by enmity (acknowledged afterwards by humility) are worthy of pardon, what ought those to be which are caused by too much abundance of love? Nevertheless my loyal friend I will not deny but that I have deserved exceeding punishment: for I ought to have considered that at such times when any are in the greatest prosperity and mirth, than forture cometh and overthroweth them into sorrow and misery: furthermore I ought to have remembered me, of your exceeding virtue and honesty, which was never yet found faulty, and most of all though I had died, yet should I not have forgotten the great servitude of my pensive heart, which proceedeth from no other cause, but only from the same wherein your own is tied: being certain that so soon as any flame had been therein quenched, mine had as suddenly been therewithal acquainted: in such sort as the care which it hath had to assuage the mortal desires thereof, hath been the only cause to increase the same. But I have done amiss, like unto them who being in the top of their felicity, and most assured of the love of those, by whom they are beloved (not being able to comprehend in them so much good) become jealous and suspicions, more by their own imagination, then by any reason, overshadowing this bright happiness with tha cloud of impatience, believing the report of some men (it may be wicked slanderers) of small credit, and vicious, sooner than the witness of their own conscience, and certain experience. Therefore my constant friend, I beseech you bartely to receive this damosel (as being sent from her, who acknowledgeth in all humility, the great fault which she hath committed against you) who shall (better than my letter) acquaint you with the extremity of my life, whereof you ought to have pity, not for any of mine own desert, but for your own reputation, who are neither accounted cruel, nor desirous of revenge, where you find repentance and submition, especially seeing that no penance may proceed from you more rigorous, then that which I myself have ordained for me, and the which I do bare patiently, hoping that you will release it, restoring unto me your good favour and my life together, which thereupon dependeth.  
Herewithal a new joy possessed the mind of the Fair Forlorn, and he quite banished the continual melancholy which had so long tormented him: nevertheless, the perplexity wherein Oriana remained, in expecting news from him, withheld part of pleasure: wherefore he prayed the damosel of Denmark, to advise herself what she had to do, for I feel myself, said he, so far beside myself, that I can think upon no other thing, but upon the new restitution of my life, which I have received by your means. I am of the opinion, answered the damosel, seeing that these in my company do not know you, to tell them that for pity sake, I will carry you to the Firm Island, only to see if by changing the air, you may also change your malady: the which was accordingly performed. Notwithstanding, the Fair Forlorn before his departure, declared unto the Hermit, how the Gentlewoman had so long sought for him, that now they were here casually met together, only by mere chance, and the storm which had brought her unto the poor Rock. And for this cause my father, said he, I am constrained to leave you and to follow her, assuring you that so long as I live, I shall never forget the good which you have done for me, for without your good help, I had perished both body and soul. And seeing that by your devout prayers (as I believe) I have been preserved hitherto, I most humbly beseech you to have your poor guest still in remembrance. And moreover to do so much for me, that hereafter you would do your best to reform the Monestary which I have caused to be builded in the Firmeisland, as heretofore I have told you: the which the holy man promised to accomplish, and with the tears in his eyes, blessed the Fair Forlorn, who without longer stay, went aboard with the damosel of Denmark. The sails were no sooner hoist, and the ship launched out into the main, but they had so stiff a gale in their poop, that within a few days after they arrived in a port of great Britain, he not being as yet known by any other but the damosel. Then came they on shore and took their ready way towards Mirefleur, where Oriana stayed their coming, being well advised to amend the fault that she had made. And the damosel in riding together with the Fair Forlorn, said. What joy will my Lady receive when she shall behold you? believe me that never woman was in a more desperate case than she, when she understood by Durin, the sorrow that you had in receiving her Letter: I assure you that she was like to have died, I do greatly wonder how she hath been able until this time to support the passion, which she yet possesseth. And you need not to doubt but that Mabila and I were greatly troubled, for none of us did know that my brother was sent unto you, and my Lady had expressly charged him that in no sort he should tell us thereof, which had likely to have been the cause of worse mischief than is yet happened. Believe me said the Fair Forlorn, I was never in greater danger of death, and I do marvel where-upon she framed this imagination that she hath conceived against me, seeing that I never thought to do any thing which might displease her: and although I should have so far forgotten myself, yet did I not deserve such a cruel Letter as she did write unto me. For although I make not those brags & hipocrisies that a number can do, yet do not I forget to measure the favours and graces which I have received at her hands: and were not this thought sown in bad ground, I am sure she would not be suspicious of the fruit thereof, seeing that both the one and the other, are wholly dedicated to serve and obey her. Alas when Corisanda arrived in our Hermitage▪ I did then verily think that my end was come: the good Lady bewailed her passion which she endured in loving my brother Florestan, too vehemently, and I died with displeasure, to be so wrongfully banished by Oriana. How many pains, what travails, what intolerable torments, have I suffered in the poor Rock, without receiving consolation from any living creature, but the good Hermit, who persuaded me to patience? Alas what hard penance have I endured for her whom I never offended? believe me damosel, I was so exceedingly troubled, that every hour I desired death, and as often did I fear to lose my life. But I pray you imagine, the despair wherens I remained, when I showed unto the Gentlewomen of Corisanda, the song that I made in my greatest tribulation. And as he would have proceeded in discoursing his ●●lour●, the damosel of Denmark said unto him, in good ●aith, so far as I perceive you have both endured much sorrow, one for another: and therefore you must forget what is past, and amend what is to come.  
With these and such like discourses thy arrived near unto a Nunnery, which was in the midst of the forest, four days journey from London. Do you know said the damosel, what I have thought upon: I think it for the best you do tarry here to rest yourself, and I will go unto my Lady, to tell her of your arrival, which done I will send Durin back again, to let you know what you are to do. Notwithstanding I think it best that Enil should not yet know who you are no more than he now doth, & that he should tarry here with you to serve you: but Durin already understandeth somewhat of the affairs betwixt Oriana & you, wherefore you need not fear to disclose yourself unto him. Here-upon they called him, and the damosel of Denmark said unto him. Brother, you were partly cause of the loss of Amadis, by the Letter which you carried to him, and yet so far as I perceive you have not hitherto known him, but do you think it possible that this Hermit may be my Lord Amadis? and nevertheless it is he without doubt, but take heed upon your life that he be not disclosed by you neither to Evil, nor any other: when Durin knew that his sister said true, never was man more amazed than he: in the mean while they entered into the Nunnery, where the damosel called Enil and said unto him, Enil I pray thee tarry with this knight until he have a little recovered his strength, and in the mean season my brother and I will depart about certain business that we have to do. By Saint Mary answered Enil, I will obey whatsoever you shall command me. Then they departed, and the Fair Forlorn remained in the Nunnery for the occasion above rehearsed.   

CHAP. XI.  
How Galaor, Florestan, and Agraies departed from the Firmeisland, to go seek Amadia, of whom they could hear no tidings at all, where-upon they all returned unto the Court of King Lisuart.  
IT hath been heretofore told you that Galaor, Florestan, and Agraies departed from the Firme-Iland, to being the search of Amadis, who was secretly departed from them. You must now understand that after they had travailed through many strange countries (wherein they performed many worthy deeds of arms and perilous adventures, without hearing any news of Amadis) seeiug that their time approached wherein they promised one another to meet in the Court of King Lisuart, they determined to return thither: and they all did meet even upon Saint john's day carely in the morning at an Hermitage hard by London, according as they had appointed. And the first that came thither, was Galaor, Agraies next, and shortly after Florestan, accompanied with Gandalin. Glad were they 〈◊〉 to see each other in health, but ●…orrowfull for the little good that they had done in this enterprise, as the tears fell from their eyes. Where-upon Gandalin showing the duty of a good and faithful servant, said unto them. Believe me Lords, all your tears cannot bring him whom you desire to find, except it be by another diligent search, which you may a fresh undertake. And although that you have already done your best endeavour, yet ought you not to think much of your labour, but seek him better than ever you did, seeing that you are assured thoroughly what he would have done for every one of you particularly, if fortune had offered any occasion. Now than if behoveth you to do the like for him, for if you do lose him in this sort, it shall not only be the loss of the most gentle knight in the world, but of the neorest kinsman that you have, and over and beside, it will be unto you a great blemish. Therefore my Lords I beseech you, in performing the duty of a brother, a friend, and a companion, to begin his search a fresh, without sparing therein at all either time or toil. This persuasion did Gandalin make, in weeping so extremely, that it greatly pitied the three knights to behold him, so as they concluded, after they had been in the Court (if they heard not news of Amadis) to begin a new pursuit, & to compass the whole world about till they had found him: and upon this determination (after they had heard divine service) they departed from the hermitage, and took the way towards London. But as they approached near unto the City, they were ware of the King, who was already in the fields accompanied with many noble men, and valiant knights: for he celebrated that day with all magnificence, because that upon the same he was crowned peaceable king of great Britain, which was the principal occasion that many knights came to serve him. Who beholding Galaor, and his fellows coming towards them, showed the king thereof, and they in the mean season were hard at hand. But because Florestan had never before seen such an assembly, Galaor said unto him. Brother behold the king. Now had they all three their headpieces off, wherefore some in the company did know them all forthwith except Flotestan, the King embraced them, demanding how they fared. Then Florestan alighted to kiss his hands, the which he refused. And because he was the Gentleman that did most of all resemble Amadis, and that heretofore he had heard speaking of him, he began to suspect that it was his brother, and therefore he said unto Galaor, I believe that this is your brother Florestan. It is he indeed; if it please your Majesty, who hath a great desire to do you service. Ah, said the king, I would Amadis were now here that I might see you all three together, what, said Galaor, hath your grace heard 〈◊〉 news of him? No, said the king: but what have you heard? It may please your Majesty, answered he, we have all three sought him a whole year, yet have we done no good, but lost our labour, and we did think to have found him here in your Court: wherefore seeing your grace hath certified me to the contrary, I am in worse hope of his recovery then before. So am not I, said the king, for I am persuaded the heavens have not endued him with such perfections, to forsake him after this manner, which maketh me to believe, that we shall very shortly hear some tidings of him. Whom they had ended their talk, they entered into the City, where the Queen and the other Ladies were incontinently advertised of their arrival, wherewith they were as glad as might be, especially Olinda, the friend to Agrays, who very lately was advertised, that he had passed under the arch of faithful lovers, and she expected his coming with as great devotion, as Corisanda did the arrival of Florestan. Then Mahila imagining to do Oriana a pleasure, ran to advertise her: but she found her withdrawn into her chamber, where she saw her leaning her head upon one of her hands, and reading in a book, to whom she said: Madam, will you please to come down to see Galaor, Agraies and Florestan, who are now newly here arrived? When she heard her speak nothing of Amadis, a new fear struck at her heart, so that she knew not what to do, and the tears distilled from her eyes in such abundance, that her speech failed. Nevertheless, in the end, not being able to dissemble her grief, she answered Mabila: my cousin and sweet friend, how would you have me to go see them? in good sooth, I have not my mind so well settled that I may dissemble or hide that, which in their presence I ought to do. Moreover mine eyes are overswollen with much weeping, and (that which worse is) it is impossible for to behold those, whom I did never see but in the company of your cousin, whom I have so highly offended. Heerewithall her heart was likely to have left her sorrowful body, and she cried. My God how do you permit me wretched woman to live, being so worthy of death? Ah my dear love, I do now feel a double grief for your absence, seeing Galaor & the rest to return without you, whom you loved as dear as yourself, who knowing the injury and wicked act that I have committed against you, shall have just cause to procure my ruin, whereunto I consent with a good will, seeing that so unadvisedly I have been the means of your loss. Herewithal she had fallen down all along, if Mabila who straight espied it, had not stayed her up, saying unto her: Madam, will you always continue these strange passions? I know well that in the end, you will publish that to your shame, which we do most desire should be kept secret. Is this the constancy which you ought to have, especially seeing that day by day we expect to here good news by the damosel of Denmark? Alas, answered she, you speak at your pleasure, is it possible that she may find him, having the charge but to seek him only in Scotland, seeing that his brethren have in a manner compassed all the West without hearing any news at all of him? You abuse yourself, said Mabila, it may be that they had found him, but that he kept himself secret from them, the which he will never do from your Gentlewoman, knowing that she is privy to both your loves. And therefore be of good cheer until her return, and then do as you shall think good: and for this time, let us go if it please you towards the Queen who demandeth for you. Well, answered Oriana, I am content to do what you will. Then she dried her eyes, and went in the Queen's chamber, into the which the three knights were already entered: who seeing her coming did their duty unto her: at the same time the King held Galaor by the hand, unto whom he said: behold I pray you, how your good friend Oriana is impaired, since you did last see her. In good faith, answered Galaor, your Majesty saith true, and I would with all my heart, that I might do her any pleasure, that might purchase her former health. Herewithal Oriana smiled, saying unto Galaor. God is the only comforter of all men, so that when his pleasure is, my health shall be restored, and your losses recovered which no doubt are great, for so dear a brother Amadis was unto you. And I would that the travel which you have taken to seek him in far countries, had brought some fruit, as well for the good of you and yours, as also for the service of the King my father, unto the which he was wholly addicted. Madam answered Galaor, I trust that we shall very shortly hear some news of him, because he is the knight that I have evermore seen most valiantly to resist all extremities. God grant it said Oriana, but I pray you cause Don Florestan to come near unto us, that I may more plainly behold him, for I have been told that he is the knight that doth most resemble your brother Amadis. Whereupon Galaor called him, and he came & saluted Oriana, who rook him by the hand, & they three sat down together. Then the Princess imagined that she did verily behold him, who being absent from her, she had day and night before her eyes, and therefore she began to blush and change her colour. Now had Mabila in like sort withdrawn herself, together with Olinda, to give a better occasion unto her brother Agraies more privately to speak unto her: and therewithal he seeing them in a place so convenient, came and saluted them, then at their request he sat down between them, in taking Olinda secretly by the hand. And she who did languish for his love, was the gladdest that might be, being sure of his constancy, by the proof which he had made passing under the arch of loyal lovers in the Firmeisland, in recompense whereof she would willingly have given him better entertainment, if she durst. But the presence of so many witnesses, took from them not only the familiarity, which otherwise they would have given the one to the other, but also the facility and liberty of speech; so that their eyes only served to supply this default, which they employed therein according to the affections of their passioned hearts. And as they were in these pleasant terms there was heard from the chamber as if it had been the voice of some oppressed with grief, wherefore the king would needs know who it was? It may please your Majesty answered an Esquire it is Gandalin & the Dwarf, who no sooner beheld the shield and armour of Amadis, but they made and yet continue the strangest lamentation that possibly may be. What said the King, is Gandalin here? He is if it like your Majesty answered Florestan. It is very near two months since I did find him at the foot of the hill of Sanguine, as he was seeking his Master, and because I did tell him that I had already sought him in every place, he was content to come with me. In good faith said the King, I have always esteemed Gandalin for such a one, as now he showeth himself to be, for I did never see any Esquire to love his Master better than he doth.  
When Oriana heard these words, especially how that Gandalin was returned without Amadis, she was in such a perplexity, that she was likely to have swooned between Florestan his arms, who not knowing the cause of her sudden passion, and fearing to affright the King and the company, called Mabila, who forthwith doubted such a mischance. Wherefore leaving Agraies alone with Olinda, she came unto Oriana, and caused her secretly to depart into her chamber, and to lie down upon her bed, where she remained not long, but that rising up as it were almost beside herself, she said unto Mabila: cozen, you know that since our coming to this City, there hath passed never a day wherein we have not received ●ore displeasure. Therefore I am determined to withdraw myself for a certain time unto my Castle of Mirefleur, for my heart telleth me that in changing the air, I shall also change my afflictions, and that my troubled spirit shall there find rest. Madame, answered Mabila, I am of the same opinion, to the end that when the damosel of Denmark doth return, you may more privately speak with her, and pleasure him that she (I hope) shall bring with her, the which would be very hard, yea almost impossible to do in this place. As you love me then said Oriana, let us not carry any longer: for I am sure the King and Queen will very willingly give us leave.  
Now you must understand, that this place of Mirefleur, was a little Castle most pleasantly seated two leagues from London, built upon the side of a hill, and compassed upon the one side with the Forest, and upon the other with many Orchards, full of all sorts of trees and pleasant flowers: moreover it was environed with many great Fountains, which watered it on all parts. And because that once the King (being there on hunting with the Queen) seeing that his daughter took great pleasure in the place, he bestowed it upon her, and afterwards she caused a Nunnery to be builded within a bow shot thereof, whereunto she sometimes went to recreate herself. But that I may not degress over far from my first discourse, Oriana according as she had determined, came and demanded leave of the King and Queen for her departure, the which was easily granted unto her: and therefore she purposed to depart the next day very early in the morning. And because that Galaor and his co●sorrs would in like sort return to make a new search for Amadis, finding the King at leisure, they said unto him: If it please your Majesty, we were greatly to be blamed if we should any longer defer the seeking of Amadis, because my fellows and I have sworn never to rest in any place, before we have heard of him, therefore it may please your grace to give us leave to depart to morrow, to do our endeavours. My friends answered the King, I pray you defer your departure yet a few days longer, in the mean season I will cause thirty knights to depart from hence, who shall go & begin this voyage: for I have great need of such knights as you are, for an enterprise which is happened unto me, the which importeth me greatly both in goods and honour, it is a battle which I have appointed against King Cild●d●● of Ireland, who is a strong and mighty Prince. And to let you understand the cause of this war, Cildadan hath married one of the daughters of King Abies, whom Amadis slew in Gaul. And although time our of mind, the realm of Ireland hath ever been tributary unto the King of Great Britain: nevertheless to have an occasion of quarrel this Cildadan refuseth the payment thereof, and sendeth me word that he will put one hundred of his knights in battle against the like number of mine, upon this condition, that if he be overcome he will redouble the tribute which I do demand of him, otherwise he will henceforth remain free and acquitted, the which I have condescended unto. So my friends, I do most earnestly entreat you, even as you love me, not to forsake me in this my greatest need, knowing assuredly, that my enemies are strong, and determined to work my displeasure, but by your good help and the right that we have, we shall easily overcome them, then shall you go seek out Amadis, as you have determined, and you shall take as many of my knights with you as you please. When they heard this request which the King did make unto them, there was not any amongst them, that was not content to obey him, seeing his necessity so great, although that thereby the quest of Amadis was delayed: and at the same instant they promised not to forsake him. During this conference, Mabila sent to seek Gandalin, for she would speak with him before she went to Mirefleur, who came unto her: and as soon as he did see her, he could not possibly refrain from weeping, nor she likewise. Afterwards having somewhat eased their hearts with their exceeding tears, Gandalin spoke first, saying unto Mabila: Alas Madam, what wrong hath Oriana offered, not only to you, ●ut unto all your lineage together, causing you to lose the best Knight in the world. Ah, how ingrateful hath she showed herself unto you for the service which you have done unto her? and that which is yet worst of all, she hath wronged him that never offended her either in word or thought: wherefore I may well say, that God hath very ill bestowed upon her that great beauty and other excellent gifts wherewith he hath endued her, seeing they are governed and overruled with so great treason: and yet I am well assured that none hath lost more than she. Gandalin my friend answered Mabila, I pray thee put that thought forth of thy mind, for thou art overmuch deceived, seeing that all which my Lady Oriana hath done, hath been for the grief and displeasure that she conceived for one word which was overlightly reported unto her, through which she hath conceived some occasion of i●lou●ie, imagining, that thy master had forgotten her, and that the affection which he did bear unto her, was turned and bestowed upon another. Notwithstanding, she did ne-Uer imagine, that her letter (written in choler) should have been of such consequence, nor that so much hurt should have proceeded thereof: but she committed this fault as one that was carried away with too extreme love, which fault is the more pardonable in her, for the repentance which she hath endured ever since. Ay m●●, said Gandalin, how was the discreet understanding of my Lady, and you abused at that time, imagining that my master could only but think to commit so ha●●ous a fault against her, whom before he should have offended, he would have suffered himself to be buried quick under the ground? and I pray you Madam, tell me if it please you, the root of this mischief, and what was that unhappy word, which so troubled the virtue & spirit of you both, to cause the death of the most perfect Knight that ever was borne. Ard●● the Dwarf, answered Mabila, (thinking to speak for the advantage of Amadis) was the occasion of all this mischief. Then she recited unto him at large, the whole discourse of the three pieces of the sword, as you have heard in the first book. And assure thee Gandalin, said she, that neither the damosel of Denmark nor I, were ever able to drive it from the fantasy of Oriana, but that she was forsaken by him, so as she still perceiving that she was contraried by the damosel of Denmark and me, did hide herself from us, and unawares to us both she wrote unto him, that unhappy letter which Durin did bring him, by the which is sprung the whole source of this mischief. Whereof she hath since that time, often enough repent her: for from the first hour that she did hear of Amadis his loss, she hath received so great sorrow and grief, that it is impossible to receive any more: and nevertheless, we have been in a manner very glad of her punishment, seeing that she hath not yet feared to procure his displeasure, that of her hath so well deserved. All this discourse did Oriana hear, who was in her wardrobe: and perceiving that they had changed their talk, she came forth as if she had heard nothing at all. And as she would have spoken unto Gandalin, the tears distilled from her eyes, and she began to tremble so extremely, that she fell down all along upon the floor, crying. Gentle Gandalin, if thou art the same that thou shouldest be unto thy master, revenge upon me forthwith, the great misery which unjustly he endureth. Madam, answered he, what would you have me to do? I pray thee, said she kill me: and since I have most injuriously caused his death, thou oughtest not in reason to defer the revenge thereof, for I am sure he would have done more for thee. Saying so her speech failed, and she swooned as though she had been departed. But Mabila accustomed to such qualms, did relieve her with a present and fit remedy, that when she came to herself again, she cried wring her hands. Ah Gandalin, thou dost ●ee great wrong, thus long to defer my end: I would to God that thy father were in thy place, I am sure that he would bestir himself better than thou do●… Madame, answered Gandalin, God defend me from such disloyalty, I should truly play the part of the notablest villain in the world, if I should but only think such a thought, much more if I should commit two so great treasons, one against you, and the other against my Lord, who cannot live one only hour after you. And I would never have thought that so wicked counsel should have had any place within your spirit, for the incertainty that you have of my master his death, who could have hardly endured this wrong which you now in these words have offered him, without endangering his life, for death cometh not but at the will and pleasure of God: who hath not bestowed these favours upon him ever since his life, that for any injury that you have done unto him, he will permit that he should yet die. Many other reasons and persuasions did Gandalin use to Oriana which gave great ease to her ma●irdom, by means whereof she said unto him: Gandalin my friend, I am determined to morrow morning to depart unto Mirefleur, to expect either lifn or death, according to the news which the damosel of Denmark shall bring unto me. And because I shall remain there some long time, I pray thee under the colour of seeing Mabila, to come and visit us oftentimes, for me thinks my sorrow decreaseth when I do see thee. Madame, answered Gandalin, I am ready to obey you in whatsoever it shall please you to command me. This said, he took his leave of her, and as he departed from thence, he passed by where the Queen was, who caused him to be called, and then she said unto him. Gandalin my friend, wherefore didst thou forsake thy master? Madame, answered he, it was sore against my will, and to my great grief. Then he rehearsed the manner how he departed from the hermitage, and the complaints and lamentations that he made, especially he declared what his manner and behaviour was, when he found him in the bottom of the valley, which moved the Queen unto such pity, that she shed luke warm tears thereat. Whereunto Gandalin taking good heed, said unto her. Madam, your highness hath reason to lament the loss of my Lord, for he was your grace's most humble servant. Nay rather my good friend and protector, answered she, and I would it were the Lords pleasure, that we might hear such speedy news from him, as might give us cause to rejoice. And as they talked together, Gandalin cast his eye upon Florestan, who was talking with Corisanda, whom Gandalin knew no●: but he thought her to be one of the fairest Ladies that ever he had seen, therefore he beseeched the Queen to tell him who she was, the which she did, and the occasion wherefore she was come into great Britain, as also the love which she did bear unto Florestan; for whose sake she stayed at the Court: if she do love him, said Gandalin, she may well ●aune that her love is impl●… upon him, in whom all ●oun●● remaineth, and he is such a one, that hardly ●…ay his equal be found in all the world▪ and moreover Madam, I assure you, that if your grace did know him so well as ●● you would not e●●●e ●e any knight more than he, for he is of a most valiant heart and high resolution. He seemeth to be such a one answered the Queen, further-more he is of so good a grace, and allied ●o so many good knights, that it is impossible but that he should be such a gentle knight as thou hast reported him to be. In though mean season Florestan entertained his Lady and Mistress, whom he loved most fervently, & not without a cause 〈◊〉 for she was passing fair, a rich Lady, and allied to the noblest houses in all great Britain. Who having remained yet some few days in the Court after his return; she determined to depart, and taking her leave of the king and Queen, she took her journey toward her own country. Two whole days together did Florestan accompany her, who promised her that so soon as he heard any news of Amadis, and that 〈◊〉 battle was passed betwixt the two Kings, Lisuart and Cildadan, (if he remained alive) he would come unto her to ●arry with her a long time: then taking his leave of her, he returned unto the Court. But you must understand, that Oriana who had not forgotten her determination of going to Mir●…, departed the next morning with her train, where she had not long remained, but that she perceived the amendment of her health, and with the some, her hope increased to see him, whom she so greatly desired. And because that the king had appointed, that d●…g her abode in that place of Mire●●eur, the ga●e should continually be kept, and that no body should enter therei●●: Oriana foreseeing (for the great desire she had that it should be so) the coming of Amadis, she sent to tell the Abbess, that she should send unto her the keys of the Nunnery gardens, to walk thither sometimes for her recreation, the which she accomplished, which were hard adjoining to the Castle, but yet enclosed with very high walls. And one day as Oriana walked there, accompanied only with Mabila, seeing the place favourable and fit for her purpose, as if Amadis were returned, she began to think of him in such sort, and upon the pleasure she should receive by his presence, that in speaking to herself she said: Ah my only hope, my solace and my entire refuge, wherefore art thou not beer with me, seeing at this present I have the means both to give unto thee, and also to receive of thee, such ease and contentment as we have so oftentimes desired to receive one of another? At the least I will not depart from hence until I have wholly satisfied the hurt which by my overgreat folly I have procured unto you, but I will here attend your coming. And if Fates or fortune do permit me to behold you here shortly, I promise you, sweet love, to give you the sure contentment that your fervent love hath promised unto you a long time: but if my misfortune shall be an hindrance unto your speedy return, your only absence shall be the means to hasten my end: wherefore I beseech you to take pity on this my weakness, and to succour me, for I live and yet languish in extreme bitterness. And seeing that ever hitherto you have been obedient unto me, without contradicting me in any sort, now the necessity being such, I pray you by that power which you have given me over you, that you would come to deliver me from death (which I feel to approach) and ●arry not: otherwise your delay will cause you over late to repent my unhappy end. In this sort did she speak as if Amadis had been present, when Mabila broke off her thought, and Oriana changing her talk, said to her: cozen, seeing that we have the keys of this place, it were 〈◊〉 that Gandalin should make some other like unto them, to the code that your cozen being returned, may go and come hither when & as often as he shall please. It is well advised answered Mabila. And as they were consulting, there was one of the Porters said to Mabila Madam, Gandalin is without, who desireth to speak with you. 〈◊〉 him come in, answered Oriana, for he hath been brought up with us a long time: and also he is foster brother unto Amadis, whom God preserve. God so do said the Porter, it were a great damage that so good & virtuous a knight should sustain any hurt. Then went he forth to go seek Gandalin, and in the mean time Oriana said unto Mabila, I pray you see how your cozen is beloved and esteemed of all men, yea even of the basest sort of people, that are in a manner, void of all virtue, it is true answered Mabila. Then Oriana said, what would you have me do but die? having been the only cause of the ruin of him who is more worth, than all the men in the world, and who did better love me, than his own self? Ah accursed be the hour wherein I was borne, seeing that by my folly and light suspicion, I have done unto him so great and so much wrong: Madam, answered Mabila, I pray you forget these imaginations, and only arm you with hope, for all this which you both say and do, serveth in no sort to ease your dolour. Here with all Gandalin entered in, whom Oriana caused to sit down by her: and after some conference which they had together, she recited how she had sent the damosel of Denmark to seek Amadis: unto whom she had written a Letter containing that which you have heard, and what words also she had given her in charge to say unto him, therefore said the Princess, in thy opinion dost thou think that he will pardon me? Madame, answered Gandalin, Me thinks you are little acquainted with his heart, for I am sure for the least word that is in the letter, he will tear himself into an hundredth pieces for you, if you do but only command him: by more likelihood may you imagine whether he will be glad to come see you, yea or no. And be you assured that seeing the Damosel of Denmark, hath undertaken the charge to find him, that she will sooner accomplish the same, than all the persons in the world beside: for I do not think (seeing he did hide himself from me) that it is ever possible for any other but she to find him out. For this cause Madam, you ought hence forth to live in good hope, and to rejoice more than ever you did, to the end, that when he returneth he may not find your beauty in such sort decayed. What sayst thou Gandalin? answered she laughing, dost thou think me now so ugly? Nay rather Madam, what do you think of yourself, that in this sort you do bide you from the sight of all men. I do it to this end said Oriana, that when thy Master cometh if he would ●●ie me for my deformity, I might in this plate stay him as my prisoner. I would said he, 〈◊〉 he were here already, and free from that other prison, wherein heeremaineth for your love. Well said Oriana, we have now other matters in hand, his Cousin and I have done so much, that we have gotten the keys of these gardens, by the which at his return, he may come in hither to so us, at all times and as often as he will, and thou must do so much, to cause two other keys like these to be made, the which he shall keep. In good faith, said Gandalin, it is well and wisely advised. Then the Princess delivered him the keys, and without any longer staying in Mirefleur he returned to London, where he executed his commission so diligently, that the next morning he came unto Mabila, unto whom he delivered the counterfeit keys, who showed them strait unto Oriana, saying unto her: behold already a good beginning, for the recompensing of the hurt which you procured unto your Amadis. Mine? answered Oriana, I would to God he were here. I than might well call him mine, whether he would or no, Go to, go to, let us not come out of God's blessing into a warm Sun, said Mabila, but let us see this night if Gandalin have performed his task well, and whether the keys will open the doors or not. I pray you let us, said Oriana. And for that present they made an end of their talk, waiting a convenient time to finish their enterprise: and according to their appointment, about midnight (when every one were sound asleep) they secretly rose up, and came down into the Court, it was then in the time of the moons waning, and for that cause the darkness did bear the more sway: wherefore Oriana began to be afraid, and said unto Mabila: I pray thee hold me by the hand, for I am almost dead with fear. No, no, I will defend you well enough, answered she, am not 〈◊〉 cozen to the most valiant knight in the world? But although Oriana did tremble, yet could she not refrain from laughter, & said unto her. Let us go then guarded: for I will hence forth think me safe being to be guarded by you, who are so valiant in deeds of arms. Seeing that you know me so well, answered Mabila, let us march on boldly, and you shall see how I will finish this adventure: wherein if I fail, I swear that for one whole year, I will neither hang shield about my neck, nor strike one stroke with the Lance. here with all they began to laugh so loud, that they might have been heard very easily, and at the same instant they came unto the door, where they tried the first key, which they found marvelous fit, and the second also, wherefore they opened them without any difficulty, and entered into the Orchard. Then said Oriana unto Mabila: Cousin all that we have done is to no end, except somewhat more be done: how may your cousin return when we once have brought him into the place, considering the height of the walls? I have already thought upon that, answered she, it shall be very easy for him by the corner of this wall, against the which we will set by this piece of timber, and with the same and our help together, he may easily mount up to the top thereof: but it behoveth that the chiefest help come from you, for you only reap the commodity thereof. We shall see what will happen, said Oriana, and therefore for this time let us depart, and go to sleep, the which they did. And as they laid them down in their bed, Mabila embracing Oriana, said unto her. Madame, I would that the knight for whom you attempt so many fair enterprises, were now in my place, upon this condition, that I did go to sleep elsewhere, because I would hear none of your complaints, for the harm that he might do unto you. Gentle cousin, answered she, if he were here, I would endure very much before I would complain of it. And so long they continued this pleasant discourse, that love stinged them so vehemently, as every amorous Reader may easily imagine what they wanted, to cause them sleep till the next morning that they went to hear divine service: and at their return they found that Gandalin was already come from London, whom they led with them into the garden, where they told him how they had tried the keys, and what words Mabila had used in the prooning of them. By my faith Madam, answered he, you do now put me in mind of some injurious speech that I used of you unto my Lord, thinking thereby to have comforted him, but there with all he had thought to have taken my head from my shoulders, and shortly after I did abide sore penance for thus leasing, because that I fell asleep, and when I awaked, I neither found my bridle nor saddle, for my Master road away, and had hidden them of purpose to stay me from following of him. Wherefore seeing that he was lost, and that he had left me, for the words that I had spoken of you, I was driven into such a Melancholy, that I had slain myself if I had had a sword to do it: friend, Gandalin, answered Oriana, thou needest not to excuse him, I know that he loveth me without dissimulation, therefore I pray thee put me no more in remembrance of that mischief, whereof I am the chief cause, except thou wilt force my Soul and body to part asunder, for thou knowest that I stand between life and death, according to the news that the damosel of Denmark shall report unto me.   

CHAP. XII.  
Hon King Lisuart being set at the Table, there came before him a strange knight armed at all points, who defied him: the conference that Florestan had with him, and how Oriana was comforted with the good news that she received from Amadis.  
KIng Lisuart being ready to rise from dinner as Galaor, and Don Florestan were taking their leave of him, to conduct Corisanda onward of her journey, there entered into the hall a strange knight armed at all points, except only his headpiece, and gauntlets. Who kneeled before the King, and delivered unto him a Letter sealed with five seals, he said unto him. It may please your Majesty to command this Letter to be read that you may understand the cause of my coming unto you. Then the king took the Letter and read it, and because it referred to the knight's report, he answered him thus. Friend you may perform your charge when it shall please you. Hereupon the knight rose up, and said aloud, King Lesuart I defi● thee, and all thy allies in the behalf of the mighty Princes, Famangomad Giant of the burning Lake, Cartadaque his Nephew, Giant of the invincible Mountain, Mandafabull his brother in Law, Gaint of the vermilion Tower, Don Quedragant brother to the late deceased King of Abies of Ireland, and Arcalaus the enchanter: who do all send thee word by me, that they have sworn the death of thee and thine. And the better to accomplish this their enterprise, they will all come in the aid of king Cildadan, & be of the number of his hundred knights who will assuredly destroy thee. Notwithstanding if thou wilt give thy daughter and heir Oriana, unto the fair Madasima, daughter to the most redoubted Pama●gomad, to serve her for her Gentlewoman, they will let thee live in peace, and be thy friends, for they will marry her with the Prince Bafigant, who doth well deserve to be Lord, both of thy Land and Daughter also. Therefore King Lisuart choose thee of these two conditions the best, either peace, which I advise thee to except, or the most cruel war that may happen unto thee, having to do with such mighty and redoubted Princes. When the King had long given ear unto him (to show that he made small account of such threats) he smiling thereat, answered him. Trust me Knight, they that gave thee this commission, do think far amiss of me, for I have all my life time thought a dangerous war, better than a shameful peace, because I were worthy of great reprehension, both of God and man, being King over such a mighty nation, if I should now through base cowardice, suffer them to be afflicted with cruelty. Wherefore return and tell them, that I had rather desire all the days of my life, that war which they do threaten me withal, and in the end to die in battle, then to accord unto a peace so much to my dishonour. And because that I desire to know their mind at large, I will send a Knight of mine own with you, who shall in like sort declare unto them my whole intention, and yet I know not if by their laws all Ambassadors or messengers are as free from danger with them, as they are with Christian Princes. If it please your Majesty, said the knight, that he shall go with me, I will be his warrant, and will conduct him unto the burning lake, which is in the Isle of Mongaza, where they are assembled with the rest of the hundred, to come and meet with you: assuring you that wheresoever Don Quedragant abideth, he will never suffer wrong to be done unto any. Truly answered the King, he showeth himself therein to be a noble Prince: but tell me, if it please you, what your name is. Sir, answered he, I am called Landin, Nephew to Don Quedragant, who am come with him to revenge the death of King Abies of Ireland mine uncle, nevertheless we could never yet meet with him that did slay him, and further we do not well know whether he be dead or not. I believe you well, answered the king, and I would you did certainly know him to be living, and that he were here, for all the rest would go forward well enough. I know well, said Landin, wherefore your grace saith so, you esteem him to be the best knight in the world, nevethelesse, I hope to be in the battle which is prepared for you, and there to perform such worthy deeds of arms, to your disadvantage, that it may be you will change your opinion. By our Lady, answered the King, I am sorry for that, I had a great deal rather, that you had a desire to remain in my service, notwithstanding, this much I tell you, that there you shall find those that can tell how to answer you well enough. And you (said the Knight) many other that will pursue you even unto shameful death. Whe● Florestan heard him speak so boldly, and to the previdence of Amadis, his collar was moved therewithal, and he said unto Landin. Knight, I am a stranger in this Country, and none of the King's subjects, so that for any thing which you have said unto him, I have no occasion to answer you, chiefly because that here are present, so many Knights my betters, over whom I will not in any sort insult. Nevertheless, seeing that you cannot find Amadis, which is (as I think) for your great profit, I am ready to fight with you, and will in his stead defend the quarrel that you have against him. And to the end that you may the better know me, I am his brother Florestan, who do offer unto you the combat upon this condition, that if I can overcome, you shall be bound to give over the quarrel that you have against him, and if you overcome me, revenge part of your anger on more. Yet thus much by the way, you must not think it strange that I have been so forward in the matter, for I have no less cause to sustain his quarrel against you (he being absent) than you have to maintain that of King Abies, whose nephew you are, being very well assured that my Lord Amadis is of power sufficient to revenge me, if Fortune permit you to have the advantage over me. My Lord Florestan answered Landin, so far as I perceive, you have a desire to fight, but I cannot satisfy you at this time, being in no sort at mine own disposition, as well for the affairs which by another I am appointed to discharge, as also for that I did promise before my departure from those lords tha● have called me into their company, not to enterprise any matter before the Battle, that might hinder me to assist and do my best endeavour therein: and therefore at this present hold me excused, until the battle be ended, than I promise you to accept the combat which you demand, and sooner I cannot intend it. Believe me said Florestan, you speak like a worthy Knight: for those that have the like charge that you now have, aught to forget and deny the fulfilling of their own will, to satisfy those from whom they are sent, otherwise they might be blamed, seeing that although you should get the victory of this combat, to your honour, yet it might be, that their be foreslowed thorough your stay and hindrance, because they do all repose themselves upon your charge, therefore I am content to defer it until the time that you require, and because you shall not afterwards fail, behold here is my gage. At the same instant he threw down his glove, and Landin his Gauntler. Wherefore by their own consen●all was remitted until the thirtieth day after the battle. Then Landin took his leave of the king, who delivered unto him a Knight that was called Filipinel to go with him to defy the Giants as Landin had done him, and because that the Court was troubled for these unhappy news, the king desiring to make the company m●●●y, said unto Gal●●r, it is come into my remembrance fair knight to do one thing princely for you, that will greatly delight you. Then he caused his youngest daughter L●●nor, with all her Gentlewomen to be called, who were all aparrelled in one livery, each of them having chaplets of ●●ou●●● upon their heads: Whom he commanded to dance and sing, as they were accustomed to do oftentimes. And you my darling (said he to Leonor) begin with the same song that Amadis, made for the love of you being your Knight, Herewithal the young princess did sing.  

The Song.  

Leonor (sweet Rose, all other flowers excelling,  
For thee I feel strange thoughts in me rebelling,   

I lost my liberty when I did gaze,  
Upon those lights which set me in a maze,  
And of one free, ●m now become a thrall,  
Put to such pain, than ser●s● thy friends withal.  
And yet 〈◊〉 I 〈◊〉 this pain a pleasure,  
〈◊〉 for 〈◊〉 whom I love 〈◊〉 of 〈◊〉.  
〈◊〉 sweet rose, etc.  
For thee I feel, etc.   

● little joy in any others ●ight  
My heart is thine, thyself my chief delight.  
But yet I see the more that I doc love,  
More smart I feel, more pain, more grief I prove.  
Well let love rage, though he be angry ever,  
〈◊〉 take my loss for gain, though I gain never.  
Leonor sweet rose, etc.   

And though to you I manifest my woes,  
My martyrdom, my smart another knows:  
One unto whom, I secretly invoke,  
Who is the cause, of this my fire, my smoke.  
She hath a salve to cure my endless grief,  
And only she may yield me some relief.   

Leonor sweet rose, all other flowers excelling,  
For thee I feel strange thoughts in ●e rebelling.    
And seeing that it happeneth out so conveniently, I will tell you upon what occasion Amadis made this song. One day the Queen being talking with Oaiana, Mabila and Olinda (Amadis coming into her chamber) she called her daughter Leonor, and said unto her: that she should Princely go, and request Amadis to be her knight, and that from thenceforth he should serve her, without bearing affection to any other but to her. The little Princess thinking that her mother did speak in good earnest, did rise up, & with a good grace came and made this request unto Amadis, whereupon all the Ladies and Gentlewomen began to laugh. But Amadis taking her up in his arms, said unto her. My little Lady, if you will have me to be your Knight, bestow some pretty favour upon me in token that you are my Mistress, and that I am your servant. I have nothing, answered she, but this carquent of gold that I were upon my head. The which she suddenly untied & gave it unto him, wherewithal every one again began to laugh, seeing how ●●rely she believed the words of Amadis, who for her sake did make this song. And the same did Leonor and her playfellows sing, as you have heard, the which did greatly delight all the company: which being ended, they made a lowly obeisance, & returned unto the place where the Queen sat. Then the king took Galaor, Florestan and Agraies apart, who were desiring leave of his Mastistie to accompany Corisanda some part of her way, and he said unto them: My friends you are the three persons of the world, upon whom I do chiefly rely. You know the battle that I have agreed unto with King Cildadan, which is to be performed in the first week of the month of August: wherein we shall find against us many strong Giants, who are bloody people, & full of cruelty. Wherefore I pray you not ●o undertake henceforth any matter or adventure, that may let you from keeping of me company: otherwise you shall do mea most great displeasure, because that by your aid I trust in God, that the pride and presumption of mine enemies shall be abated, and we shall remain conquerors, and they quite overthrown and discomfited.  
Most royal King, answered Galaor, there is no need to use either prayer or commandment unto us, to persuade us to be in a place so famous: for although we had not at all any such intention as we have to serve your Majesty, yet the desire to fight against such personages, should nevertheless not be diminished in us, seeing that it is the only duty of all good Knights, to hazard themselves in such enterprises, where they may gain honour and reputation. Therefore your Majesty may be assured that our return hither shall be very shortly, and in the mean season you may communicate this matter unto the rest of your knights, to encourage and to confirm them in the same good will that now they have to serve your Majesty, the which counsel the King liked well of, and therewithal he gave them leave to depart. Thus they went together in the conduct of Corisanda, as I have already recited. Now had Gandalin heard all this talk that had passed, & seen how the three knights were departed, whereupon he went to Mirefluer, to declare the same unto Oriana & Mabila, who were very much disquieted with this new defiance that the Giants had sent unto the King. Nevertheless Oriana said unto Gandalin: In good sooth, seeing that Corisanda now hath Florestan so much at her commandment, considering the vehement love that she doth bear unto him, me thinks she should be very glad thereof, and long may she so continue, for she is a most sober, and wise, and virtuous Lady, and such a one that deserveth it well. Saying so she began to weep, & with a deep sigh, she said. Ah fortune why dost thou not yet permit me to behold my Lord Amadis, one only day? I beseech thee either to grant me this good, or to spare my life no longer, because my soul doth loath it. Herewithal she became so sad, that it greatly pitied Gandalin to behold her, who notwithstanding dissembling his grief, feigning not to be content with this talk, answered her: Madam you must not be offended if henceforth I come no more in your presence: for I did always hope that my Lord Amadis would have returned hither again very shortly, and now hearing you in these terms. I am quite deprived of this benefit. I pray thee good friend Gandalin said she, be not angry. I swear to thee by my faith, that if I could look with a merrier countenance, I would willingly dot it but I cannot otherwise do: for my heart yet remaining in continual heaviness, will in no sort permit me, and were it not for the consolation which thou hast given me, I assure thee that I should not have the power to stand upon my feet, so much do I feel myself grieved with this war that my father hath undertaken, the success whereof I do exceedingly fear, by reason of thy Master his absence. Madam answered Gandalin, 〈◊〉 shall not now be any where so secret, but that he shall have news thereof; and I am very sure that notwithstanding all the disgraces and disfavours that you have done unto him, by discharging him from your presence, yet will he not fail to be there, knowing that it is a thing of great importance both unto the King & you: not that he will presume to come before you, but he will make himself known in place where he may do you service, in hope that you will pardon him for the fault that he never did, nor ever thought to do. God grant said Oriana, that thy words prove true. And as they were in these discourses, there came a Gentlewoman who told Oriana that the Damosel of Denmark was arrived, and she hath brought unto you many fair presents. Then fear & hope seized upon the Princess heart, in such sort, that without power to answer one word, she began to tremble, the which Mabila perceiving, she answered the Gentlewoman: friend will her to come in hither all alone. The gentlewoman returned to perform her charge, but in the mean time believe me, neither Mabila nor Gandalin knew how to behave themselves, being either hopeless of the good, or fearful of the bad news that the damosel of Denmark might bring. Who shortly after entered in with the countenance of a person more pleasant than pensive: and after her duty done unto Oriana, she presented her with a Letter from Amadis, saying unto her: Madam, my Lord Amadis recommendeth him must humbly unto your good grace, whom I have found, as this Letter (written with his own hand) will assure you. Oriana received the Letter, and as she thought to have opened it, her spirit was so ravished with exceeding joy, as all the parts of her body remained without any power, or ability once to move or stir, because they would supply no other office, but to participate in this most happy news: so that Oriana therewithal fell down in the place where she stood. But very suddenly she was raised up again, & she opened the Letter, wherein she found the ring that she sent unto Amadis by Gandalin, at the same time that he fought with Dardan at Winsore, which she presently knew. Wherefore in kissing it she said so loud that she might easily be heard: O ring divinely kept, blessed be he, that ever did make thee so fortunate, giving from hand to hand all the pleasure that may be desired, then put she it upon her finger, and began to read the Letter. And when she beheld the sweet words that Amadis used, & the the thanks that he did yield unto her, for the careful remembrance that she had of him, by the which he was raised from death to life, there was never any woman more joyful, and casting her eyes up to heaven, she said: O God of heaven and earth, creator of all things, praised be thy holy name, because thou hast vouchsafed in mercy to look upon me, by the diligence of this Gentlewoman. Herewithal she withdrew herself apart and took the damosel of Denmark by the hand, saying unto her: I pray you fair Lady tell me how you did find him, how long you have been together, and the place where you have left him. By my faith Madam answered the damosel, after my departure from you, I arrived in Scotland, where I remained certain days without hearing any news of him, by means whereof (being as it were void of hope to satisfy your desire) I took shipping intending to return unto you: but we had so sore a tempest upon the Sea, that maugre all our Mariners, the ship was driven unto the poor Rock, where my Lord Amadis then remained. Whom at the first fight we did not know, for he was changed in name, habit, and countenance, and he was likely to have died in our presence, when in a manner he was not succoured by any of us. Notwithstanding in the end I was ware of a wound that he had upon the face, the which was heretofore given unto him by Arcalaus, whereby I still suspected that it should be he, and in the end he manifested himself unto me. And continuing her discourse, she recited wholly all that which you have heard in the beginning of this History. Then love & pity assailed the heart of the Princess, in so strange a manner, that she entreared the Gentlewoman to speak no more of the troubles of Amadis: but only to tell her how he did at that present. Madame, answered she, I have left him in the Forest, staying to hear some news from you. And how may we secretly send unto him, said Oriana: for if you return unto him so suddenly, there might some matter be suspected. For the same occasion, answered the damosel, I have brought with me Durin, whom I will send back when it shall please you, feigning that I have forgot part of the presents that I brought unto Mabila. It is very well advised, said the Princess. Afterwards she declared unto her, how Corisanda gave unto them the first hope that Amadis was not dead, and that he it was that named himself the Fair Forlorn. It is true, answered the damosel, and he is yet so called, neither is he determined to change his name, until he have first seen you, except you command him the contrary. That shall then be very shortly, said Oriana, for his cousin and I have taken such order, that he may come hither when it shall please him and not be perceived by any body. We have the key of this garden (by the which the way shall be easy and secret for him) the which we will send unto him by Durin, therefore call him unto us, to tell him what Amadis must do at his hither arrival. Hereupon Durin came unto them, & Oriana showing him the garden, said unto him. Durin dost thou see this orchard, Amadis must enter into it over the corner of this wall, & when he is once in, here are the keys of the door thorough which he must come unto us, the which thou shalt carry unto him, and shall further advertise him, whatsoever thy sister shall tell thee in my behalf. Which said, she departed leaving them together, and as soon as she was entered into a great Hall, she forthwith sent unto the damosel, willing her to bring those presents which the Scottish Queen had sent unto her & Mabila, the which she did. But as she unfolded the cloh wherein they were wrapped, (as if she had suddenly bethought herself) she cried. Alas Madam, I have left the tokens that were sent unto Mabila, there as we did lie the last night, and if Durin do not speedily return, they may be in dangar to be lost: now Durin knew the matter well enough, and therefore he made as though he were unwilling, and on the other side, Mabila feigning to be very angry, said unto him: Durin my good friend, will you do me this pleasure, to return and fetch that which your sister hath forgotten? Madam, answered he, I will do whatsoever you shall please, but by my faith, I could be very well content, that it would please you to appoint some other to do it, because of the toil that we have endured in our wearisome journey. My friend, said she, I pray thee do so much for me, & be thou sure that I will reward thee: in good sooth, said Oriana, it were great reason so to do, I understand you well enough, answered Durin, although you mock me. At this word they all began to laugh, seeing the counterfeit discontentment that he made to return back. Well go to, said he, seeing that I must bear this ●●out with me, I will tomorrow morning depart. Then they all retired, and Durin went to London to see Gandalin, unto whom he declared all that you have heard: afterwards he departed to return unto the Abbey where Amadis remained expecting news from Oriana. Nevertheless before he departed, Gandalin willed him to tell Evil his cozen, that he should endeavour himself to serve the fair Forlorn diligently, and that whilst he remained with him, he should likewise inquire after some news of Amadis: and this message did Gandalin send unto him, to cause him the less to suspect him in whose service he remained, that Amadis might the more secretly bring his matter to pass.   

CHAP. XIII.  
How the Fair Forlorn sent Enil his Esquire unto London to cause a new armour to be made for him, and what adventure chanced unto him in going to Mirefleur.  
But because we will not too much digress from that which happened unto the Fair Forlorn, you shall understand, that after he had made some small stay in the Monastery where he was left to wait for news from Oriana, he found himself very able to put on armour: and therefore he sent Enil to buy him horse and armour with a shield of Sinople, set full of golden Lions. Who returned unto him the self same day that Durin arrived at the Abbey, where he was well entertained by the Fair Forlorn, who in the presence of Enil demanded of him, where he had left the Damosel of Denmark his sister: my Lord answered he, at her departure from you she forgot behind her certain presents, that the Queen of Scotland did send unto my Lady Mabila, the which I do come to seek. Then turning unto Enil he said, Enil your cozen Gandalin recommendeth him very heartily unto you. Which Gandalin answered the Fair Forlorn. My Lord said Enil, he is a cozen of mine, that long time hath served a Knight called Amadis of Gaul.  
Then the Fair Forlorn without further inquiring took Durin apart, who did wholly recite unto him all that which he was commanded to tell him on the behalf of Oriana, and how she stayed for him at Mirefleur, being very well determined to give him kind entertainment: likewise what order was taken for his secret coming and going, when and as often as he pleased, and also how his brethren Galaor, Florestan, and Agraies his cozen, remained at the Court, expecting the battle that is to be performed very shortly, between King Lisuart, and Cildadan of Ireland, especially the challenge of a combat that Famongomad and the other Giants and knights had sent unto the King, if he would not give Oriana to be a waiting maid unto Madasima, and to be married shortly after to Basigant the eldest son to the said Famongomad. When the Fair Forlorn heard this discourse, his heart was ready to break with extreme rage: purposing with himself, that the first enterprise that he would undertake (after he had seen his Lady) should be to find out Famongomad, and to fight with him, for the injury that he would do unto Oriana. After that Durin had thoroughly advertised him of all that he had in charge, he took leave of him to return unto Mirefleur, leaving him in the Abbey, fully determined from thenceforth to abate the pride of these Giants: being glad notwithstanding in that he had recovered the good favour & grace of Oriana, on whom his life and honour did wholly depend. Then the next morning before the break of day, he armed him with the same Armour that Enil had brought, and mounting on horseback, he took the way towards Mirefleur: but he had not ridden far, (thinking upon the pleasure that was promised unto him, and knowing how near he was unto it) when making a career he began to curvet and manage his horse so gallantly, that Enil was greatly amazed thereat, thinking that he had never been other than an Hermit, and he said unto him: my Lord, until I may judge of the effect and force of your courage, I may very well say that I did never see a more expert knight, nor one that can do more with a horse than you. Enil, answered the Fair Forlorn, it is the valiant hearts of men, not their outward show, that doth accomplish haughty deeds and hardy enterprises, therefore thou having said thy mind by my countenance, mayest judge hereafter of my courage according as I shall deserve, thou and discern.  
Thus road the Fair Forlorn all the day long discoursing with Enil of diverse pleasant matters, for those gloomy clouds which in times past had over-shadowed his thoughts, were now overblown, and the desire to behold her by whom he lived, shined only in his mind. But when it grew to be somewhat late, he lodged in the house of an ancient knight, that both gave him kind entertainment and great cheer: nevertheless the next morning he departed. And because he would not be known at any time, at his departure from his lodging he put his helmet upon his head, never putting it off but when he took his rest, and he did ride from that time forth seven days together without finding any adventure, until upon the eight day following, he arrived at the foot of a mountain, and he did see coming towards him along a path, a knight mounted upon a mighty courser, who seemed so great and so strongly made that he was almost like a Giant. Who coming somewhat near, he called unto the Fair Forlorn: knight I forbid you to pass this way, except you do first tell me that which I desire to know. Therewithal the Fair Forlorn did presently know him (although he had never seen him before) for the shield which he did bear had in a field Azure three flowers Or, the like whereof he remembered that he had seen in the Firmeisland, & that he was Don Quedragant. For the which he was very much displeased, as well because he had not determined to fight, until he had first found out Famongomad, as also because he would not in any sort disobey the commandment that Oriana had sent unto him by Durin: and he greatly feared such a let, knowing that Quedragant was one of the best knights in the world: nevertheless he made himself ready for the joust. The which Enil perceiving, he said unto him: my Lord I believe that you will combat this Devil. He is no Devil, answered the Fair Forlorn, but one of the strongest knights I know, of whom I have heretofore heard great commendation. Then Quedragant drew near and said unto him: Knight, you must tell me whether you belong unto King Lisuart or not. Why so said the Fair Forlorn. Because said he, that I am mortal enemy to him and all his, and when I shall either know or meet with any of them, I will cause them to die an evil death if I may.  
The Fair Forlorn was so greatly inflamed with rage to hear him thus to menace, especially the King and all his Knights, that he answered Quedragant: You than are one of them that have defied that good King? I am even the same said he, that will do all the injury that possibly may be done both to him and his. And how are you called? answered the Fair Forlorn. Don Quedragant said he. Trust me Don Quedragant answered the Fair Forlorn, although you are a valiant Knight and descended of a Royal lineage, yet have you enterprised an exceeding great folly, in defying thus the most mighty and best King in the world: for every discreet knight ought to attempt no more than he may well effect, seeing that they who do once pass the bonds of their ability, and power, are to be accounted more haire-braind than hardy, and more vainglorious than valiant, the which is no better than folly. As for me I am no subject but rather a stranger unto the King against whom your quarrel is: yet have I always had a desire to do him what service I could, and therefore you may account me of the number of those whom you do defy, and combat with me if you list, otherwise follow on your way. Believe me said Quedragant, I think the little experience you have of me, maketh you to utter these braves: notwithstanding I would very willingly know your name. I am called answered he, the Fair Forlorn: but I think for the small renown that yet is blazed abroad of me, you do now know me as well as you did before. And although I am a stranger, yet have I heard that you do seek Amadis of Gaul: nevertheless I believe it were most for your profit, not to meet with him, considering but what I have heard reported of him. What said Quedragant, dost thou think better of him (unto whom I do wish so much hurt) then of me? Trust me thou shalt repent it, therefore defend thee if thy heart will suffer thee. Although (answered the Fair Forlorn) that against another I would have been content for this time to have excused me from the combat, yet will I very gladly undertake it against you, for the threatenings & presumptions that you do offer unto me.  
This said, they ran one against the other with so great force that the horse of the Fair Forlorn was likely to have kissed the ground with his nose, & himself was wounded in the right breast with the shiver of a Lance, and Don Quedragant unhorsed and wounded between the ribs. Yet he rose up again lightly, and drew his sword running against the Fair Forlorn, whom he took upon a sudden whilst that he was busy in mending and setting his helmet right: and before that he was aware, Quedragant slew his horse under him, but the Fair Forlorn feeling him to founder, alighted down. Then he being exceedingly vexed for so wild a part, he said unto Quedragant: knight, it seemeth that you have never done any valiant deeds of arms, in that you have so villainously slain my horse, it might have sufficed you to have wreaked your anger on me, and not upon a poor beast. Nevertheless I am in good hope that the wrong which you have done both to him and me shall redound upon your own head. Don Quedragant answered him not one word, but covering him with his shield, he came and laid at the Fair Forlorn, who in a short time made him feel how well he could repay whatsoever was lent unto him: and to hear them fight, one would have judged that more than ten knights had been fight together. Then joined they so close that they left their weapons, and fell to wrestling, endeavouring to throw one another down, but that was impossible for them: wherefore they let go their hold, and without any breathing, they betook them again to their blades, and laid load one upon the other so courageously, that their Esquires beholding that cruel combat, did think it impossible but that they should both twain die by the hands of each other.  
And thus they continued from three of the clock in the afternoon until it grew towards night, without either resting them or speaking together: but even at the same instant Don Quedragant was so weary and faint, that his heart failed him, and he fell down in this place. By means whereof the Fair Forlorn stepped unto him, & as he pulled off his helm to strike off his head, Quedragant taking air began to breath: the which the Fair Forlorn perceiving (although he was ready to perform with his arm, the revenge that he meant to take of his enemy) he stayed his blow, the sword being ready to lop off any limb upon the which falling down it might chance to light: and he said unto Quedragant, it is height time for thee to think upon the health of thy soul, for thou art but a dead man. When Quedragant perceived that he was in such danger, he was so astonished that he answered unto the Fair Forlorn, Alas if I must die, yet at the least let me first be confessed.  
If thou wilt live any longer said the Fair Forlorn, yield thyself vanquished, and promise to perform all that I shall command thee. I will willingly fulfil whatsoever shall please you, answered Don Quedragant, although I am not vanquished: for he is not overcome that without showing one jot of cowardice, hath defended his quarrel even with the loss of his breath, and until that he did fall at his enemy's feet: but he only is overcome, that for want of heart, feareth to do what he may. Truly said the Fair Forlorn you speak the very truth, and I am very glad that I have learned so much of you. Go to, swear to me them to obey my commandment. The which Quedragant did. But the Fair Forlorn called his Esquires to witness, and then said: I will that at your departure from hence, you go unto the Court of king Lisuart, from whence you shall not depart, until the same Amadis (that you seek be there arrived. Then you shall yield yourself unto his mercy, pardoning him for the death of your brother King Abies of Ireland, for that as I have heard, they both of their own free will challenged each other, and had Combat together, so as this revenge ought not to be pursued. Moreover I will that you give over the challenge that you have made against the King, and those that serve him, without bearing arms hereafter against any one of them. All which conditions Quedragant promised to perform, although it was to his great grief. Then he commanded his Esquires to prepare a litter for him, to carry him unto London, according to his promise. In like sort the Fair Forlorn having seized upon the horse of Quedragant, in stead of his own that was dead, delivered his shield unto Enil, and followed on his way: upon the which he beheld four young Gentlewomen that were flying with a Marlin, who had both seen the Combat, and heard all the talk of the two Knights: and for the same cause, they spoke unto the Fair Forlorn, earnestly entreating to come and lodge in their Castle, where he should be entertained with all the honour that might be devised, for King Lisuart his sake, unto whose service he had showed himself so affectionate. The which offer of theirs he refused not, for he was weary with the great travail he had sustained all the day. And as soon as he was come into his lodging, they themselves unarmed him, to see if he were in any sort dangerously wounded: but he had no other hurt than that upon his breast, which was a matter of nothing. Three whole days together did the Fair Forlorn tarry there, and then departed, riding all day long without finding any adventure: and the night following he lodged in a little Inn that stood on the way, from whence he departed the next morning very early, and about midday he came unto the top of a small hill, from whence he might behold the city of London, and the castle of Mireflear, where his Lady Oriana remained.  
Heerewithall he was surprised with exceeding joy: nevertheless, he feigned as though he knew not the Country where he remained, and demanded of Enil if he did know it. Yea very well, my Lord, answered Enil, behold yonder is the city of London where King Lisuart at this present remaineth. In faith, said the Fair Forlorn, I would be very sorry that either he or any other should know me, until my deeds deserve it, and that by my deeds of Arms I might be thought worthy to be in such an assembly. Therefore go thou to see the Esquire Gandalin, from whom Durin did of late bring the commendations: and see that thou dost wisely inquire what every one saith of me, as lso when the battle of King Cildadan shall be performed. What? answered Enil, shall I leave you all alone? Care not thou for that, said he, I have been many times accustomed to go in that sort: yet before that thou dost depart, let us espy together a fit place where thou mayst find me at thy return. Then they road on a little further, when upon a sudden they beheld close by the fide of a river two pavilions armed, & in the midst of them a most fair tent. Before the which were many knights & Ladies sporting, and ten other knights armed for their guard: and there was never a pavilion that had not five shields hanged up, and as many Lances standing before it. Herewithal the Fair Forlorn fearing to be disturbed of his enterprise, would avoid the combat & took his way upon the left hand. The which the knights perceiving, called unto him, saying, that he must needs give one stroke with the Lance for the love of the Ladies. But he answered them that at that instant he had no desire the reunto. For said he, you are fresh and many, and I alone, and very weary. Believe me said one of them, I think rather that you fear to lose your horse. And why should I lose him said the Fair Forlorn. Because said the knight, he must have him that doth throw you down, & I am sure that your loss were more certain than the gain that you should get upon us. Seeing it is so, answered he, I had rather depart, then come into any such danger, which said, he passed on. Truly said the knights, in our judgements your arms are defended more with fair words then valiant deeds, so that they may ever be sound enough to place over your Tomb when you are dead, yea although you should live one hundred years and more. You may think of me what you please answered the Fair Forlorn, yet cannot that in any sort diminish my reputation. I would it were your pleasure, said one that stepped somewhat before his fellows, that you would break only one staff with me, I would be accounted a traitor, or not in one whole year to mount upon a horse, if you departed not by and by to seek your lodging without yours. Sir answered he, it is that which I do fear, and which caused me to turn out of the highway. At this they all began to laugh, and to scoff him saying, behold the valiant champion, that spareth himself against a battle: yet for all this the Fair Forlorn made no account, but followed on his way until he came unto a river side, but as he would have passed over, he heard a voice that cried: stay knight, stay. Then he turned his head and looked back to see who it was, and perceived a Gentlewoman, in very good order mounted upon a Palfrey coming towards him, who at her arrival said unto him, Leonor daughter to King Lisuart, together with her Gentlewomen, do all desire you to maintain the jousts against these knights, and to show that you will do somethign for the jove of Ladies. How? answered he, the daughter of the King, is she there? I truly answered the Gentlewoman. Believe me said the Fair Forlorn, I should be very sorry to have a quarrel with any of her knights, for sooner would I do them service for the honour of so fair a Lady. Notwithstanding seeing that it is her pleasure that I should otherwise do, I am content: upon this condition, that they require no more than the joust only. Hereupon he took his shield, and Launce, and road strait unto the pavilions, and the Gentlewoman road before to advertise the knights thereof. Wherefore it was not long before that he who first of all had threatened the Fair Forlorn that he would make him to lose his horse, offered himself to run the first course, whom he presently did know, for he did very well marked him, when he gybed at him, and he was very glad that he had so good an occasion to be revenged. Therefore they couched one against the other, setting spurs unto their horses, meeting with so great an encounter that the knight broke his staff to shivers, and the Fair Forlorn hit him so rudely, that he overthrew him to the ground, and he broke one of his thighs with three of his ribs, with the grief whereof he remained quite astonished. In the mean season Enil ran to take his horse, & the Fair Forlorn turned unto him that he had overthrown to whom he said, Knight if you keep your word you must not in one whole year come upon any horseback, the which you did promise if you could not win mine. So saying, he heard that another knight cried unto him: knight keep thee from me. Wherefore he left the other, and putting his Lance in the rest, he clapped his spurs to his horse, & ran on so rightly against him that had challenged him, that he unhorsed him even as he had done the first, and as much did he unto the third and fourth, before his Lance did break: whose horses he caused to be taken, and tied unto a tree. Then he would have been gone, when Enil (who had seen that another knight did make him ready) said unto him, Sir you have not yet done, behold the fifth which which is coming towards you. Then the Fair Forlorn turned his head, and did see a knight coming unto him who brought four Lances, who being come said unto him. Sir knight my Lady Leonor having very well perceived the valour that you have showed against her knights, and knowing that your Lance is broken, she sendeth you these four, and she prayeth you that so long as they will last, not to spare them against the rest that may come to revenge their companions. I most humbly thank that good King's daughter answered he, and I pray you to tell her grace, that for the honour of her, I will so long as I live do what she shallbe pleased to command me: but I would neither stay, nor come one step forwards for any of these knights that remain, so over proud have I found them in constraining me to fight against my will, when I would have passed along on my way.  
Herewithal he took one of the Lances when very suddenly he beheld the fifth knight ready to make his course against him: werefore he presently pulled down his visor and couching his staff he ran against him, and he did hit him with so great force that he unhorsed him, as also all the rest, not breaking his Lance, but only upon the last who behaved himself better than any of the others, for before the Fair Forlor● could overthrow him, he made two Lances fly to shivers, but at the third time he made him to lose his stirrups, and he fell to the earth. And because he kept his seat better than any of his fellows, I will tell you who it was: his name was Nicoran de Pont Craintif, who in those days was one of the best runners with a Lance in all the Realm of great Britain. After that the Fair Forlorn had thus overthrown them all, he sent their horses unto the Princess Leonor, praying her to advertise her knights that hereafter they should be more courteous unto those that pass by the way, or else that they should learn to sit faster on horbacke than they had done: for they might chance to meet with such a knight that would make them go on foot as they deserved. This message did make the knights so much ashamed, that they answered not one word: but they were greatly abashed that they were all unhorsed by him, whom they so little esteemed, neither could they once imagine what he should be: for his arms were yet unknown. And Nicoran said, believe me if Amadis were living, I would judge that it was he, and I know not any other that would so have parted from us. It is not he answered Galasa, for he would never have run against us that are his friends. Did you not see said the other, how he also refused the ioust? Assure you it is he and no other. I would it were said Giontes, King Lisuart his Nephew, our shame should then be the less: but whosoever he be, God shield him from harm. The devil go with him answered Lasamor, he hath broken my thigh, and my ribs: yet was I the cause thereof, being the only procurer of mine own hurt, and the first that began the combare. In this sort did the Fair forlorn escape from them, & went forward on his way, very joyful for his good fortune, having yet one of the four Lances whole in his hand. Now was it exceeding hot, and he was very dry: and therefore beholding an Hermitage a far off, he took his way thither, as well to give God thanks for his victory, as also to drink, if there were any to be had: and when he came unto the gate thereof he found three gentlewomen's palfreys saddled and bridled, the which two Squires did hold. Then he alighted and entered in, where he did see no body. Wherefore after that he had ended his prayers he came forth again, and he did see the three Gentlewomen, who were refreshing themselves by the side of a very shady fountain, towards whom he went, and coming unto them he saluted them. They demanded if he were any of the knights of King Lisuart. Gentlewoman answered he, I would I were worthy to deserve so good company: but I pray you tell me which way are you going at your departure from hence. The right way to Mirefleur said the Gentlewomen, where we shall find our Aunt (who is Abbess of the Monestary there) and my Lady Oriana King Lisuart his daughter. And because the weather is hot as you see, we are constrained to stay here in the cool, and it were not amiss if you did as we do. Seeing you are so pleased answered he, I am content to bear you company: for me thinks this fountain is a very fit place for one to rest in, but do you know how it is called? No said they: nevertheless there is another yet more fair in the bottom of this valley, which is called the fountain of three channels. Herewithal they showed him the place, although that he did know it better than they, for many times he had there been a hunting, and he had already determined that the same should be the place where Enil should find him at his return from London. And as they were in this sort discoursing together, they perceived upon the same way a cart which was drawn with twelve horses and guided by two dwarfs, within the which were many armed knights enchained, their shields were hanged all along the sides thereof, and amongst them were Ladies & Gentlewomen that cried out, & wept most pitifully: before whom marched a Giant armed with plates of fine steel, having upon his head a maruelious bright shining helm. But he seemed to be so great, that it would have feared any man to behold him, & he road upon a mighty black horse, holding in his right hand a Boar-spear, the head whereof was more than a cubit in length, and there followed (behind the cart) another Giant far more monstrous than the first, of whom the Damosels of the fountain were so much afraid, as they fled to hide them amongst the bushes. At the same instant the Giant which marched before (seeing how the Ladies that were in the cart did tear the hairs from their heads, for it seemed by their furious behaviours, that they very willingly would have procured their own death) said unto the dwarfs, If you cause not these girls to hold their peace, by jove you villains, I will make a thousand pieces of your entrails, for I would have them charily kept, to sacrifice them unto the God that I adore. When the Fair Forlorn heard him, he presently knew that it was Famongomad, who was wont to cut off the heads of all those that he might take, and to shed their blood before an Idol that he had in the burning lake, by whose counsel he was governed in all his affairs, & although he then had no desire to fight, as well because he would not fail to be at Mirefleur (according as Oriana had willed him) as also because he was weary, and tired with the encounter that he had had against the ten knights, yet knowing the persons that were in the cart, amongst whom was Leo●or the King's daughter, her Gentlewomen, and the ten knights that he had overthrown, he determined either to die or deliver them, knowing what grief the loss of her sister would be unto Oriana, whom Famongomad and his son did take at unawares, and all the rest of her train, in a manner as soon as the Fair Forlorn had left them, and in this sort they had bound and f●…ered them in the cart, that they might afterwards most curelly put them to death. For this cause he willed Enil to give him his arms. My Lord said he, do you not see these devils that are coming towards us? For God's sake let us begun and hide us from them, then may you arm yourself at ease, for I would not tarry their coming for all the wealth in London. I will do better if I may, said the Fair Forlorn, I will first try my fortune, and although thou dost think them devils) thou shalt see them slain by one only knight: for their life is so odious before God, that he will give me the strength to revenge (as I hope) all those miserable cruelties which they from day to day do commit.  
Alas my Lord said Enil, you will wilfully lose yourself: seeing that if twenty of King ●…uart his best Knights had undertaken that which you alone think to do, yet might they hardly escape with honour. Care not thou for that, answered he, if I should let such an adventure pass before mine eyes, and not be an actor therein, I were unworthy ever to come into the company of good and virtuous men, and therefore whatsoever may chance thereof, I care not. This said, he left Evil weeping, and went unto that side where he might easily behold Mirefleur: because the remembrance of Oaiana, was still present before him, and he bagan to say. O my Lady and only hope, never did I enterprise adventure, adventure, the which I have not by your means achieved: and now that I know you are so near unto me, and that it is for a thing that so much importeth you, forsake me not I pray you, in this extremity. Herewithal he imagined that his strength was redoubbled, and seeting apart all fear, he went toward the cart, and said unto the dwarfs: stay you base slaves, for you shall all die, and your masters also. When the Giant heard these threats, he entered into such fury, that the smoke proceeded from his eyes, in such sort, as it seemed they had been on a fire, and he did shake his boar-spear with such force, that he almost doubled both ends together. Then he answered the Fair Forlorn. Unhappy and unfortunate wretch, how dared thou be so bold to come before me? Yet he made as though he heard him not, but couched his Lance, and setting spurs to his horse, he smote the Giant a little beneath the waist, with such strength, as piercing the joints of his harness, the Lance entered into his tripes with such exceeding force, that passing quite through, it hit against the hinder part of the saddle, and broke the girts of the horse, overthrowing both man andsaddle even in a moment. Nevertheless before the giants fall, he couched his boar spear, thinking to have hit the Fair Forlorn, but it miss him & stroke thorough his horses flanks: wherefore he feeling that he was wounded to death, did very nimbly alight down. and although that Famongomad was in like sort deadly wounded, with the great rage that he felt, he rose up, and with both his hands he pulled forth the trounchon of the Lance that stuck in his body, and threw it at the Faire-Forlorne with such extreme fury, that he thought to have overthrown him, and so greatly did he strain himself to hurl the same, that the tripes came out of his belly, and he tumbled over and over. Therewithal he cried. Basigant my decree fon revenge the death of thy sorrowful Father if thou canst. At this cry Basigant approached, holding a weighty bill, wherewithal he thought to have strooken the Fair Forlorn, but he stepped aside, and the blow passed by so forcibly, that if it had hit him it had cloven him quite asunder. Then the Fair Forlorn being very ready, and expert, stretched forth his arm, and struck the Giant so great a blow, that he cut the one half of his leg away, although that with the great fury wherein he remained, he could not as then feel it, but lifted up his bill, the which turned in his fist, which was a happy chance for the Fair Forlorn, who received the blow upon his Shield, within the which it entered so far, that the Giant could not pull it forth And as he struied to get it out, he raised him upon his stirrups to have the more strength. By the means where of, the sinews of his leg, which were cut a sunder failed him, wherewithal he felt such great grief, that (not being able to keep his saddle) he kissed the ground with his nose: and in falling, the Fair Forlorn stroke him another blow upon his right arm, so that he was forced to forsake his bill, and leave it in the power of his enemy. Notwithstanding his hart was so great, that he rose up again and drew forth his sword, that was marvelous long, with the which he laid at the Fair Forlorn with all his strength, and he strained himself so much, that the blood issued from his wounds, in such great abundance, that all his strength failed him, and he fell down together with his blow, which lighted upon the stones, wherewith the sword broke in two pieces. The which the Fair Forlorn perceiving, he stepped aside, and set his hands unto the bill in such sort, that by force he pulled it out of his shield, wherewith he struck so great a blow upon the Giant's helmet, that he made it fly from his head: but the Giant with that little remainder of his sword, that he yet held, pared away the top of his helmet, together with a little of the skin and hair of his head, the which blow if he had strooken somewhat lower, he had cut his head off. Therewithal they that were in the cart, thought that the Fair Forlorn had been wounded to death, and himself was so astonished, that he thought his days to be ended, wherefore desiring to be revenged, he gave him such another great blow with the bill, that he cut off his ear, with half of his face, with the which he yielded up the ghost. During all this combat, the Princess Leonor and all her company, were d●…ly praying for the good success of the Fair Forlorn: who seeing that he was dispatched of Basiga●t, turned unto Fam●ngomad, who had beheld the death of his son, for whom he made so great mo●e, that he was likely to have gone mad. And although that he was likewise at the point of death, yet notwithstanding he had thrown his helmet from his head, holding both his hands before his wound, to keep in his blood, that thereby he might prolong his life, the more to blaspheme God and his saints: not being sorry for his death (as he said) but because that he had not in his life time, destroyed all the churches wherein he had never entered. And he cried as loud as he could: Ah thou God of the christians, it is th●n alone that hast wrought the means, that both I and my son (who were mighty enough to overthrow one hundred of the best knights in the world) are slain by the hand of a most wretched and feeble villain. And as he would have proceeded in his his blasphemy, the Fair Forlorn stroke off his head from his shoulders, saying: Receive thy reward for all thy cruelties which thou hast committed against a number of people. And spurning him upon the belly with his foot, he said: Now get thee unto all the Devils, who have long expected thy coming. Then he took up Basigant his Helmet, and threw down his own which was broken. Enil in like sort brought unto him Famongomad his horse, upon the which he mounted, and came both to unbind the prisoners, and to do his duty unto the Princess Leon●r, who gave him great thanks for his good help. In like sort so did all the rest of the company. Now had the Giants tied all their horses at the tail of the Cart: wherefore the fair Forlorn went to seek out the Princess her Palfrey, the which he brought, and mounted her upon the same, commanding all the rest to take every one their own horse, and to get them to London, and to carry unto king Lisuart the bodies of the two Giants, and Basigant his horse, which will serve him well in the battle against king Cildadan. But the Knights answered him, sir who shall we say hath done this good for us? you shall tell the king said he, that it is a strange knight, who is called the fair Forlorn: and you may both declare unto him at large the cause of the combat that I had with the Giants, as also the great desire that I have to do his Majesty all the service I may, whether it be against king Cildadan or any other, herewithal they laid both the bodies in the Cart: but they were so great, that their legs trailed along upon the ground more than sixfoore, and taking leave of the fair Forlorn, they went towards London, praising God, and the good knight that preserved them from death. But by the way Leonor and the young Gentlewomen that were with her (forgetting their passed peril) made them garlands of flowers which they set upon their heads in entering into the City: them the people wondering to see the Giants, followed the Cart even unto the castle, to understand who had done such vallant deede● of arms. The ●ing did already know that his daughter was arrived, and how she brought with her two dead Giants, whereford he went down into the Court with the Queen, and many knights, Ladies and Gentlewomen with them, to see what the matter was: the which the Princess Leonor recited unto him, together with all that you have already heard, whereat every one wondered. And even as she had ended her discourse, in came Don Quedragant, who yielded him prisoner into the king's hands, as being sent thither by the fair Forlorn, the which increased in all the assistants, farther desire to know him, that larely had done so many knightly deeds. And the king said, in good faith, I do greatly marvel what he may be: but is there none of you that do know him. And it was answered him no: saying that Corisanda Lady and friend to Don Florestan had found in the poor Rock (as heretofore she had declared unto many) a sick knight that was named the fair Forlorn. I would said the king, that he were in this company, believe me that he should not depart from us, for any thing that he would demand of me.   

CHAP. XIIII.  
How that after the Fair Forlorn had ended his adututure he went 〈◊〉 the Fountain of the three Channels: from thence he took his way to Mirefleur, where he found Oriana, with whom be remained eight days together: and at the same time there arriurd in the Court of King Lisuart, as ancient Gentleman bringing with him two lewels of singular vertur, whereby the faithful lover, from the feigned might be tried, the which Amadis and Oriana determined to make proof of, in such secret manner, that they would neither be known of the king nor any other.  
AFter that the Princess Leovor and her train, had taken their leave of the Fair Forlorn, he returned towards the Gentlewomen whom he had found hard by the fountain, who having seen the victory which he had achieved, had already forsaken the bushes, & came to meet him. Then he commanded Evil to get him to London unto Gandalin, and that during his abode there, he should cause such another armour as that of his own was, to be made for him, because they were all to broken and battered with the blows that he had received in the former combats: moteover that he should not fail to return unto the fountain of the three channels upon the eight day following. Thus Enil departed from him, and on the other side the Fair Forlorn (having taken his leave of the Gentlewomen) road through the Forest, and they took their right way to Mireflure, where being arrived, they declared to Oriana and Mabila, the dangerous combat, and glorious victory that was performed in their presence by a knight called the Fair Forlorn, When Oriana knew for truth that he was so near unto her castle, joy and extreme pleasure, accompanied with a most fervent desire, entered into her imagination, in such sort that until she had him in her arms, she never lost fight of the high way that led from the Forest, by the which he was to come. By this time was the Fair Forlorn alighted from his horse, hard by a little River, staying until it were night: for he would not be seen by any, at his entering into Mireflure. Then 〈◊〉 put off his Helmet, and laid him down upon the grass: and therewithal he began to think upon the instability of Fortune, and upon the miserable despair wherein (not long before) he remained when with his own hands, he 〈◊〉 ready to have effected his death and also how he was not only 〈◊〉 restored to his former felicity, but also advanced to greater honour glory and contentment then before, knowing that he was so near that joy which he should receu●… with his Lady Oriana. In this ●…gitation remained the Fair Forlorn until after sun set, when he mounted on horseback, and came unto the place that Durin had assigned him, where he found him together with Gandalin, who stayed there for him to take his horse. Then he alighted down, & demanded of them, what the ladies were doing, my Lord, answered Gandalin, they are on the other side, in the garden, where they have already stayed for you more than four hours. Help me then to get up. The which they did: and he being upon the wall, beholding Ortana and Mibila, on the other side (having not so much patience as to stay for their help) he leapt from the top of the wall down to the ground, and as he would have kneeled to have done his duty, the Princess ran to embrace him, and in kissing him she was like to have fallen in a swound between his arms. But who could imagine the pleasure that they yielded the one unto the other? Amadis he trembled like a leaf not being able to speak one Word, holding his mouth close unto Orianaes': who as it were in an ecstasy did behold him with such an eye, that it made them both twain to live and die together. In this sort they remained more than a good quarter of an hour, and even until that Mabila smiling, said unto Oriana: Madam, I pray you at the least before my cousin do die, let us have a sight of him if it please you. Soft and fair, answered Oriana, let me a while alone with him, and then you shall afterwards have him at your pleasure. Herewithal Amadis saluting Mabila, said unto her. My good Cofin, this is not the first day that you have known how much I am yours. I believe you well sir, but my Lady would have you wholly to herself. Alas, said she have I not reason, seeing that I alone was likely by my fault, to have been the causer of his loss? Believe me dear friend, the grief which you felt and the teeres that you have shed (by the fault that I committed) shall be now both acknowledged, and thoroughly recompensed. Madam, said Amadis, you have never been at any time, but the procurer of all my happiness and favour, and if I have felt any tribulation, I, and not you, have been the causer there of: therefore have I justly sustained, whatsoever sorrow I have suffered. Alas sweet loan, answered Oriana, when I think upon the estate wherein: Corisanda and the damosel of Denmark did find you, and the abundance of tears and lamentations that continually distilled from your eyes (as they have told me) I assure you that yet my mind is troubled therewith. Madam, said he, the tears whereof you speak, were no tears: for long before the coming of Corisanda to the poor Rock, the spring whereof was dried up: but it was an humour proceeding from my heart, the which did so continually burn in your love, that being constrained by the force of the flame, it did draw up to the eyes that moisture, which nature had placed about the heart to preserve it, and to give it life and I believe that if the damosel of Denmark had stayed from bringing me that relief which I received of her, in steed of tears which distilled from mine eyes, the (soul is self had departed. Sweet love, said the Princess, I know well that I committed a great error in writing that letter which Durin did bring to you, but you should then have remembered how that all women are weak, and very light of belief, especially in things wherein they are affectioned, and wherein by too extreme love they are often times carried away, & made suspicious, even as I have been against you, wherefore the greater that mine offence is, the greater praise shall you win in pardoning me: the which I beseech you to do, being ready to receive such punishment therefore, as it shall please you to give unto me, and to satisfy you at your own discretion. Alas Madam, said Amadis, it is I that should demand pardon of you: for if I should die for your love, most pleasant would that death be unto me. But this much I assure you, that I had never been able to have resisted this great sorrow that I have suffered, had it not been that my martyrdom was eased (knowing the pleasure which you would receive in the same) that it took such force unto it, as death was not of sufficient power in any sort to bring it to an end. Let us leave off this talk for this time said Mabila, you have both suffered wrong, determine therefore henceforth how it may be recompensed: and now to eschew the vapours of the night (which may be unto you somewhat hurtful) let us retire unto some covert. I like your counsel well answered Oriana. Therewithal Amadis was brought into her chamber, and presently Mabila and the Damosel of Denmark (knowing that they should do them a pleasure to leave them alone) went forth, feigning to go about some other affairs. Then the princess requested Amadis to sit down in a chair covered with velvet, which stood in a corner of the chamber, and she stood leaning upon him, that she might at more ease kiss him, and hang about his neck: whereupon he being overcome with an extreme amorous passion, left off his wont modesty, thrusting one of his hands into Oriana her pretty breasts, and the other towards the place by him most affected: Wherewith Oriana half ashamed in stretching herself along. because she would not look in his face, said unto him, My dear love, I believe that the hermit of the poor Rock, taught you not this lesson, Madam answered he, I beseech you to pardon my rashness, taking pity of me, and seeing that both time and place is so favourable unto us, be not you more contrary unto me than they, but suffer me to continue that favour, whereof by your good grace I have taken possession, when I delivered you from the hands of Arcalans. My joy, answered Oriana, you know that I am so wholly yours, that you cannot dispose of yourself more then of me, nevertheless how may I possibly at this time satisfy your desire, seeing that your Cousin, and the Damosel of Denmark are so near unto us? Alas said he, they have hitherto been the cause of my life, and now since they have farther assisted me do you think that they will desire my death? Assure you Madam that they are already so well acquainted with our affections (especially the damosel of Denmark) that although they have not seen that effected, yet it mny be they have presumed as much and more: therefore I beseech you (in acquitting you of your promise) to succour me. Which said, he gave such large scope unto his passions, that notwithstanding all the faint resistance that Oriana could make against him, he had that of her which he most desired, tasting together of the sweet fruit, which they did first sow in the Forest, at such time as Gandalin was gone to seek for some victuals for them: as you have heard in the first book. And although that Oriana made refusal thereof at the first, yet Amadis used her so courteously that before they departed from the place, they determined to continue their sport, whilst they had so good opportunity, and from thenceforth not to be in any doubt either of Mabila or the damosel of Denmark. Eight whole days did Amadis remain at Mirefleur with Oriana, leading ●…fe as pleasantly as they could with, during all the which time he was not seen of any, except of those that were the means of his bringing thither, as it hath been told you, for all the day long he was close with the Ladies in the chamber, and when the evening approached they came forth into the garden, where often times after many amorous discourses, Amadis allayed the heat of his fire (by the sweet embracings of Oriana) at the music of the birds, who chanting out their pleasant notes, were witnesses of the pleasure that these two lovers received, under the shade of the little young Trees, where with this place was sufficiently stored. Now did Gandalin every day go and come from London to Mireflure, to bring news, from the Court: so that one time amongst others, he told Amadis that the Armou: which by Enil he had caused to be made for him, would be very shortly finished. Moreover he told him, that the King was in great doubt for the battle which he had enterprised against king Cildadan: for the most part of those that he had to deal withal, were cruel Giants, and without reason, and therefore he had stayed Galaor, Florestan, Agraies, and Don Galuanes, to assist him in that encounter. Who (said Gandalin) are so angry for the famous report that is spread abroad, of the Fair Forlorn to the dispraise of Amadis, as if they had not already passed their promise to the king, seeking not to enterprise any combat or voyage before the battle, they had been already upon their way to have sought him out to fight with him, and they secretly give it out, that if they do escape alive, they will not rest until they have both found him, and fought with him. In good faith answered Amadis, they shall see me the sooner if God please, but it shall be after another manner than they hope for: wherefore do thou return to the Court, and learn if any thing hath since happened. Herewithal Gandalin departed, who went directly to London, where he found the king ready to sit down to dinner, and even as they were taking up the Table, there entered in a very ancient Gentleman, attended upon with two Esquires, appareled both in one livery. This old man's beard was shaven, and the hair of his head was white with age, who came and knceled before the king, and saluting him in the Greek tongue (in which country he was borne) he said unto him. It may please your Majesty, the high renown that is spread in all parts of the world, of the knights, Ladies and Gentlewomen that are in your Court, hath been the only cause that enforced me to address my journey hither, to see if in the same I may find that which this threescore years I have sought in diverse countries far and near, to small purpose. Therefore most renowned Prince. I beserch your Majesty to be pleased, that to finish my travail, I may make a proof of the knights, Ladies and Gentlewomen in this assembly, the which (as I think) will neither be hurtful nor displeasing either to your Majesty, or to any other. Then all the Lords that were present, desired to see a thing so rare, entreating the king to grant his request, the which he easily condescended unto, therewithal the ancient Gentleman took from one of his Esquires, a little coffer of jasper, which he did carry, which was in length about three cubits, and in breadth a shaftmont, and it was garnished with Gold, and the most curious damask work in the World: this little coffer he opened, afterward he took out of it a Sword, so strange, as the like was never seen, the scabbard thereof was made of two bright shining bones, and as green as any fine Emeraud, so as the blade was to be seen through it, not after the manner of other blades, for the one half of it showed marvelous bright, and the other seemed, as if it burned, being as red as fire, and it hanged in a Belt of the same stuff as the scabbard was of, so cunningly made, that any man might easily gird it about him. This Sword the Gentleman did hang about his neck, that he might likewise take out of the coffer a kercheif, the one half whereof, was be set with flowers as fresh and green, as if they had been even then newly gathered: and the other half was covered with other violets, as withered and dry, as if they had been ten years in the Sun, nevertheless both the one & the other seemed to spring from one and the self same root: wherewithal the king being abashed, demanded of him how these things might be. If it like your majesty answered the old man, this sword cannot be drawn forth of the scabbard, but only by that knight that amongst all lovers, is the most constant, and that doth best love his Lady: and as soon as he shall have it in his hands, that part which burneth shall become as clear and bright as the rest, so as the blade shall be all of one colour. In like sort if this k●…efe bestrewed with so many flowers, be set upon the head of such a Lady or Gentlewoman that doth love her husband or friend with the likePunc● constantness, the withered and dry flowers shall appear again, of a most fresh and lively colour: and your Majesty may be pleased to know, that I cannot be made a Knight, but by the hands of this perfect lover that shall draw forth this Sword, neither may I take arms but of her that shall deserve this precious kercheife. For this cause have I these threescore years convinually sought in many strange Countries for those by whom I ought to receive knighthood, but yet hitherto I have travailed in vain, & now prosecuting my voyage (in a manner for my last refuge) I am come into your Court: imagining that even as it far exceedeth the Courts of all other Emperors and kings, so I might in like sort in the same find that which in all others I have failed of. I pray you said the king, let me know the reason why the fire that remains in the one half of this blade, doth not burn the scabbard. It may please your Majesty, answered the old man, betwixt Tartary and India, there is an arm of the Sea which is soohot, that the water thereof (being marvelous green) boiles as if it were upon the fire, and in the same there is brought forth a kind of Serpents more great than Crocodiles, the which do fly very lightly, by reason of their long wings, but they are so infectious, that every one shun them so much as they possible may. Notwithstanding when a man findeth any one of them he esteemeth of him as a thing much worth, because they are profitable for diverse medicines, and these Serpents have a bone that reacheth from the neck to the tail, the which is so great, that upon the same is form all the whole body which is green, as you see by this scabbard, and furniture, for as much as they are bred up (as I have said) in this burning sea, no heat of any other fire may hurt them. Thus hath your Majesty heard the strangeness of this sword, and of the scabbard, now I will tell you of the flowers of this kertchiefe. In the same Country of Tartary, there is also an Island environed with the most strange and dangerous gulf that is in any part of all the Sea. By means whereof (although the flowers of these two branches are rare & precious) yet there is 〈◊〉 man so valiant that dare go to gather them: but if it so chance, that any one be so mad as to adventure himself therein, and if he may bring them away, assure your Majesty, he selleth them at as great a price as he pleaseth: for amongst other singular virtues that they have, this is one, that whosoever doth charily keep them, they do never leave their greenness, and lively colour, as you may behold in this kertchiefe. And seeing that I have declared unto you the excellency of these jewels, it may please your Majesty likewise to understand who I am, and after what sort I came by these things. I beleeu that you have many times heard speaking of Apolldon, who in his time, was one of the best Princes of the Earth, he it was that did beautify the firm Island, with many rare and singular things, as every one knoweth, my Father was his Brother, and king of Gan●● who being in love with the daughter of the king of Canonia, did beget me of her. And when I was of sufficient age to be made knight, my father commanded me, seeing I had been conceived with far more perfect and loyal love, than ever was any other prince, that I would not in like sort receive knighthood, but by the hand of the most faithful lover that might be found in all the World, neither to take arms, but from that Lady, or damosel who should love her husband or friend, with the like constancy as the knight doth. The which I both promised and swore unto him to perform, thinking to accomplish his will very easily, only in going to mine Uncle Apol●don and Grimanesa his wife, towards whom I went: nevertheless, my misfortune was such, that I found Grimanesa dead, wherefore Apolidon (knowing the cause of my coming) was very sorrowful. For Grimanesa being deceased, else where very hardly might I find (as he told me) that which I had promised unto my Father, the succession of whose Crown was denied unto me except I were a knight, as by the statute and ordinance of his Realm was appointed, and therefore mine Uncle willed me to return unto Ganor, and that within one year following, I should come again unto him: during which time he would endeavour to find some remedy for the foolish enterprise which I hast undertaken: and according to his appointment Pre●… Then he gave me this Sword, and kerchief, by the which I might know those whom I was to find, telling me that seeing had been so rash in my promise,/ therefore I should from thenceforth travail so long until that I finding such a constant knight and Lady, had accomplished whatsoever my Father was commanded. And thus your Majesty may see the reason of my long travail and search, therefore if it like your Highness, you may try the Sword first, and your knights afterward. And in like sort the Queen and her Ladies, may prove what shall be the event of the kerchief, and he or she that shall finish these adventures, shall possess the jewels as their own, I gain rest thereby, whereof I shall reap the profit, and your Majesty honour and renown amongst all other Kings and Princes, having found that in your Court, of the which I have failed in all other Countries. Thus the old man having ended his discourse, there was not any that were present, who did not generally desire to see the matter in proof, and although the king was as desirous to see the trial thereof as any other, yet did he defer it off until the fifth day following, upon the which day, was the feast of Saint james to be celebrated, and the more to make it manifest, he sent for a great number of his knights. For the more full my Court is (said the king) the more is the likelihood to have this adventure thoroughly tried. Unto the which determination every one agreed: all this discourse did Gandalin hear, who by good fortune was not 1. hour before arrived at Lon. But so soon as the Conclusion was agreed upon, he got again to horseback and road forthwith 〈◊〉 Mireflure, where he found the f●… Forlorn playing at Chests with ●riana, who seeing him return so suddenly, she demanded of hi● what new event was chanced 〈◊〉 Court. Madam, answered he, I am sure that you will be wonderful glad to understand what it is. And what is it said Oriana? then Gandalin recited all the whole discourse of the old Gentleman, with the strangeness of the sword and kerchief: as also how the king had put off the proof thereof until the feast day of Saint james next ensuing. During all this long discourse, the Fair Forlorn became more pensive than he was accustomed to be, which Oriana strait perceived, nevertheless she made no show thereof, 〈◊〉 Gandalin and the company writ departed, and that she came and sat down upon the knees of the fair Forlorn. Then she kissing him and hanging about his neck, said unto him: My love I pray you tell me whereupon you 〈◊〉, whilst Gandalin declared unto us the news at London. In faith Madam, answered the fair Forlorn, if my will were to my wish, you and I should all our life time after live in more rest and contentment then hitherto we have done, for the kerchief should be yours, and the sword mine, and so all su●…on and jealousy should never more reign betwixt us. What sweet love said she, do you doubt that I would not gain the Kerchief if it were by firm love to be gained? No Madam, answered he, but I did fear, because the trial is to be made in the king your Father his Court, that you would make it difficult to enterprise the same, and yet I know that I am able both to carry you thither, and bring you back again (if it please you) so that none that do see us, shall know who we are, My Lord said she, you know that I will obey you all my life long, and that you may dispose of me at your pleasure so as I do more fear the danger whereinto these Gentlewomen may fall, if we should be discovered, than any of our own, and me thinks it were good to hear what their opinion is, before we undertake any thing. Whatsoever shall please you Madam, answered the fair Forlorn, that do. Then she called Mabila and the Damosel of Denmark, who were talking with Gandalin, unto whom they declared all that you have heard. And although that undoubtedly the danger was very great, nevertheless the gentlewomen seeing that they whom it did nearest touch, were (as they thought) most forward therein, they would not speak that which they thought thereof, and answered Oriana that in ●oth she should never in all her life, have the like occasion to win the most pretions' jewel in the world. Well said the Princess, unto the fair Forlorn, do then what you think best. I will tell you answered he, how we may go I will answered Enil (who as yet doth not know what I am) to tell the King, that a strange Knight with his Lady will make trial of those jewels, if it so please his Majesty to give them safe conduct, that nothing shall be said nor done unto them against their will, which granted I will conduct my Lady disguised in strange apparel, having a very fine lawn or cypress before her face, thorough the which she may see every one, and yet shall not she be known of any, and I being wholly armed with my beaver down, will lead her. By my faith, said Mabila, your enterprise is great: but I have a garment that my mother did lately send unto me by the damosel of Denmark, of the rarest fashion in the world, which will be fit for this purpose, and if it please my Lady, we will presently try it upon her, herewithal they went for it, which being brought, she and the damosel of Denmark appareled her therewith, after so strange a manner, that they all began to laugh, seeing the Princess so disguised, and whatsoever the faira Forlorn had before determined to do, they thought might now be very easily performed. Whereupon they forthwith commanded Gandalin to go buy some fair Palfrey for Oriana: and that he should not fail to bring him to the end of the Castle wall of Mirefle●r, the night before the trial of these jewels was to be performed, and further that he should advertise Durin to bring his horse the same evening into that place where he first alighted when he entered into the garden. For I will depart, said he, this night to go unto the Fountain of the three channels, where Enil is to meet me, whom I will forthwith send unto the King, to purchase out safe conduct. Thus Gandalin departed, who did effectually perform whatsoever was committed to his charge. Therefore so soon as the evening was come, the fair Forlorn took his leave of the Ladies, who brought him unto the foot of the garden wall, and sliding down on the other side, he found where Durin held his horse, upon the which he mounred, taking his way towards the Eorrest, and about the break of day he artived at the fountain, where within a while after Enil came bringing with him the Armour which he had caused to be made, with the which he armed himself, and then demanded of him what news there was in the Court. My Lord, answered he, every man there speaketh of your prowess: and there is not any one but is very desirous to be acquainted with you. Then falling from one speech to another, he began to tell him the news of the old Gentleman, who had brought the Sword, and the Kerchief, Trust me, said the fair Foolorne, it is now four days ago, since a Gentlewoman advertised me thereof upon this condition, that I should carry her to the court, to make trial of this adventure, therefore I am constrained to go thither, nevertheless thou knowest how much I desire, not to be yet known of the King, nor of any other, until my deeds do give them further testimony of my valour then yet they have. For this cause thou must return unto London to tell the King, that if it please him, to give security unto a Gentlewoman and me, that nothing shall be either said or done unto us against our wills, we will come to make trial of the stranger his request: but fail not in like sort to advertise the Queen and her Ladies how the Gentlewoman constraineth me to conduct her thither, according to the promise that I have made unto her, and that otherwise I would not have come there, and after thou had fulfilled my commandment, fail not in any case to return hither the night before these jewels must be showed. In the mean season, I will go seek the Gentlewoman who is somewhat far from hence: and according to the answer that thou shalt bring unto us, we will either go forward, or return back again. Then Enil departed, and the fair Forlorn took the way to Miresleur, where he arrived as soon as day was shut in, and there he found Durin ready to receive his horse. By whose help he got over the wall, and entered into the garden where Oriana, and the other gentlewomen were, of whom he was most courteously entertained: but when Mabila espied him coming, she said unto him what is the cause my good Cousin, that you are more brave now, than you were this last morning? Have you met with any good booty of 〈◊〉? You know not the meaning there. of, answered Oriana, he went of purpose for this fair A●… thinking to escape by force from this prison wherein we kept him. Is it true? said Mabila, if you determine to fight with us, see that you be well advised first, for you have somewhat to do, And in this 〈◊〉 jesting together, they came unto the Princess her chamber, when his supper was brought unto him: for all that day he neither had eaten nor drunken, fearing lest her should have been discovered.   

CHAP. XV.  
How the damosel of Denmark was sent unto London as know what answer Enil had received from the King, touching the safe conduct which was demanded by the fair Forlorn, who did after words bring Oriana thither to prone the strange jewels.  
AS soon as the fair Forlorn was returned to Mirefleur, he told Oriana how Enil was gone to the Court according to their determination concluded the day before. Whereupon the Princess desirous to know an answer, and also to provide all things necessary for their safety before hand, she sent the damosel of Denmark unto the Queen to certify her Majesty, that because she found herself somewhat ill at case, it would please her grace to hold her excused, if she could not as yet come and do her duty unto her Highness. So the damosel departed, and returned not until it was very late, for she stayed the arrival of the Queen Briolania, to meet with whom the king himself did go, and she came into the court with one hundred knights, ready to begin the search of Amadis, according to the appointment of Galdor and Florestan, and therefore she was determined not to depart from Queen Brisena, until they were returned again, neither would she nor her women be appareled with other Garments then of black cloth, until he were found, for such weeds did she wear at such time as he did make her Queen, and now would she never change her manner of life, if he were lost. In your rudgment said Oriana, is she so fair as the report goeth of her? So help me God, answered the damosel, except your grace, she is the fairest woman, and of the best behaviuor that ever I did see, she was very sorry when she heard of your sickness, and she sen death you word by me, that she will come and do her duty unto you so soon as you shall think convenient. Truly, said Oriana, I am more desirous to see her then any other that I due know. Madam, answered the fair Forlorn, beleeume she well deserveth that you should show nor all the honour you may, although hererofore you have wrongfully sustained some grief for hersake: gentle low, said the Princess, for God's sake, let us speak no more of passed melanoholies, for I am assured that I did think 〈◊〉. You shall yet be better assured, answered he, by the ●…ony that you shall receive, of those ●ewels which we shall gain, the which will henceforth 〈◊〉 extinguish all those unhappy 〈◊〉 that you have concerned against me, if they should chance to 〈◊〉 against into your 〈…〉, increasing in you the opinion of that 〈◊〉 and duty which I 〈◊〉 and bear unto you. My Lord, said 〈◊〉, I am well assured that the 〈◊〉 shall make you believe, that what wrong soever you received of me, proceeded of no other cause, but by the extreme love which I did bear unto you: we shall see shorely said the damosel of 〈◊〉, what will happen. For the king hath granted your request by Enil. In this sort did Oriana, and the test of her company pass away the time, until the day came wherein they must depart, to make trial of that which you have heard, which caused her to rise about midnight, attiring her as the fair Forlorn had devised, and he likewise was armed at all points, that done they passed through the garden, and came to the place where Gandalin held their horses in readiness. Then mounted they upon them, taking their way toward the Forest, right unto the Fountain of the three channels. But there Oriana thinking upon the enterprise which she went about, foreseeing the inconvenience and danger thereof, not only if she were disclosed, but also how if she failed in gaining the kerchief, Amadis might have just cause to suspect her, and by that means she might lose that good reputation which she had gotten with him. Herewithal she began to repent her forwardness, and to tremble so extremely, that the fair For 〈◊〉 perceived it, who said unto her. Madam, had I thought you would have been so ill at ease with this voyage, I sweat unto you that I would rather have died then have brought you out of doors, therefore if it please you, let us return again to Miresteur, So saying, he turned his horse head nevertheless Oriana considering that by her an adventure so recommendable should be deferred, changed her mind and answered him. I beseech you sweet love not to take any heed unto the fear that a timorous woman may have in the midst of this great wood, but unto the virtue and valour that remaineth in you. Very sorry was the fair Forlorn because he had spoken in such sort unto her, doubting lest he had offended her, and he said unto her. Madam, seeing that your discretion hath surmouted my folly, I beseech you to pardon me: for I assure you, my meaning was not to speak any thing that should be offensive unto you. As they had ended their conference, they came unto the fountain being yet an hour from day, where they had not long stayed before Enil came unto them, whereat they were very joyful. Then the fair Forlorn said unto Oriana: Madam, behold the Esquire which I promised you to send unto king Lisuart, by whose answer we may determine what to do. In faith my Lord, answered Enil, he sendeth you by me all the assurance that you demand, and further he advertiseth you that the trial of the adventure beg●… this day after his majesties coming from the Chapel. All the better said the fair Forlorn, we shall then have no great cause of stay. Hereupon he gave him his shield and lance, and without putting off his Helmet at all, they took the right way to London: the people had already heard that the knight which did overcome the Giants should come unto the king's lodging, they said one to another: Heavens shield the fair Forlorn from all mischief, for he is worthy of great praise, and most happy may that Lady thinks herself, to whom he remaineth a servant. These words might Oriana understand very well, wherewith she was not a little joyful, knowing that she was Lady & Mistress of him, whom so many people did both love & honour: afterward they came and alighted at the Palace: where they found the king, Queen Ladies, and a great number of knights already assembled all together in a great hall, to make trial who should gain the old man's jewels. And as soon as they knew of the arrival of the Fair Forlorn, the King rose up with his train to receive them: wherefore the Fair Forlorn kneeling down would have kissed his hands: but the K. lifted him up, saying unto him: My good friend, you are most heartily welcome hither, where you shall be as free as you would wish, for you have done as much service for me, in so small a time, as ever any knight performed either for King or Prince. The Fair Forlorn answered not one word, but only bowed himself to his majesty in sign of thanks: and without stepping one foot from Oriana, (whom he held by the hand) they came towards the Ladies, who did all salute them very courteously. You may imagine if the young Princess were not now in some fear to be discovered, being in such an assembly, for the Queen her mother stepped unto her, looking her steadfastly in the face, although it was covered with alaune, and she said unto her. Gentlewoman, I do not know who you are, for to my knowledge I did never see you, nevertheless, for the love of this knight (in whose custody you are) that hath done the king so great sernice, assure you that in this place shall be showed unto you, all the honour and service that possibly may be. For the which the Fair Forlorn humbly thanked her Majesty, but Oriana without speaking one word held her head down continually. Therewithal the king and all his knights withdrew them to one side, and the Queen and her Laides to the other. And in the mean time the Fair Forlorn leading Oriana by the hand, came and beseeched the King, that he and his Lady might remain in the midst of the hall, for they were not determined to touch the jewels, except that all the assistance did first miss the gaining of them. The which the king did grant unto him, who did first of all take up the sword, which was laid upon the table by the old Gentleman named Macandon: and the King did draw it out one shastmont and no more. Wherefore Macandon said. It may please your Majesty, if there be not found in your Court any, more amorous than you are, I shall not depart from hence so contented as I hoped to do. Therewithal he took the sword and laid it again upon the table, for so must he do after every trial. Then Galaor took it up, but yet he performed less than the King did. The which Florestan, Galnanes, Gramedan, Brandoinas and Landin seeing, they all one after another tried what they could do, and yet none of them could un sheathe it so much as Florestan did, who drew it forth a foot and more: but then Guillan the pensive took it, and he passed Florestan about half a foot, so that he came unto the midst thereof. Trust me then, said Macandon, if you did love but as much again as you do, the sword should be yours. After him there came more than a hundred Knights, who did little or nothing therein, where-upon Macandon jesting with them, called them heretics in love. Then Agraies who had stayed to be the last, being sure (as he thonght, considering the firm love which he did bare unto his Lady Olinda) that the adventure was ordained for him and on other, stepped forth, and beholding his Mistress he took the sword and drew it forth of the scabbard within 3. fingers breadth and as he strained himself to pull it quite forth, the fire issued from the blade so hot, that it burned part of his apparel, so that he was constrained to leave it there, being very joyful nevertheless, that he had performed more than any of the rest. Truly said Macandon you are a loyal knight, and you have almost had occasion to be content, and I satisfied. Lastly Palomir & Dragonis approached, who were but the day before arrived at the court, and they gained no more than did Galaor: which caused Macandon to laugh, saying unto them. My advise is, that you should put both of your parts in the sword together, & it may be that you shall have sufficient to defend you hereafter. You say true answered Dragonis: but if you be this day made knight, you shall not be of so young years but that you may very well remember it hereafter. At that word every one began to laugh, in the mean season there was never a knight remaining in the Court who did not put himself forward to gain the sword, and yet it was all in vain. Wherefore the fair Forlorn holding Oriana by the hand, came to take it up: when Macandon said unto him: knight this sword will fit you better (if you may gain it) then that which you have, & yet it cannot be gotten by force of Arms without constancy in love. It must then be mine answered the fair Forlorn, who therewithal did draw it forth of the scabbard as easily as if it had been his own, and that part of it, which seemed to be burning, became like unto the other, and was as bright as ever was seen.  
There withal Macandon (exceeding joyful) cast himself at the feet of the fair Forlorn, saying, unto him, O noble knight, God increase thy honour: for in ending my long travail you have greatly honoured this Court. And truly that Lady who is served of you, hath cause to love you well, except she be the most mischievous & dissoyalst woman in the world. Now therefore do me this favour (if it please you) as to give me the order of knighthood, for by no other than you, may I obtain it, nor yet enjoy the fignory which of right belongeth unto me over many great personages. Cause first a trial of the Kerebiefe to be made, answered the fair Forlorn, and afterward I will perform whatsoever I ought to do unto you. Then grided he the sword unto his side, leaving his own for him that would take it up, and returned to the place from whence he departed. Great was the praise that all men gave unto him: but more great was the emulation of Galaor and Florestan towards him, concluding in their minds that so soon as the battle against king Cildadan was finished (if they thence escaped with life) they would presently seek him out, and challenge him to the combat, wherein they would die, or else make it known, unto every one that their brother Amadis was a far better knight than he, who (as they thought) did eclipse his honour, by the reputation which he had gotten in gaining the stranger's sword. At that instant the Ladies approached to prove which of them might obtain the Kerchief, and first of all the Queen began, putting it upon her head: notwithstanding the flowers did not any whit change their colour for her: Whereupon Macandon said, Madam if the king your husband have showed the little loyalty that remaineth in him, in his trial of the sword, me thinks you do now well enough requite him for it. The Queen blushed and being half ashamed she returned to her place: then came the fair Queen Briolania, who therein performed as much as the first. Unto whom Macandon likewise said: believe me Madam, considering the great beauty wherewith you are endued, you are more beloved than loving, as we may plainly see by this kerchief. After her came four kings daughters, marvelous fair Elndia, Estreletta, Aldena, and the sage Olinda, upon whose heads the kerchief being placed, the withered flowers began a little to flourish, so that there was not any one of them which did not imagine that she should be the owner thereof, wherewith Oriana was in a great perplexity. Yet in the end the flowers retutned to their withered colour. And for the same cause the Gentlewomen set them down again in their places: nevertheless it was not without receiving some little frump from the old Gentleman, who for one of his age could very fitly apply them. In the end Oriana perceiving that every one had failed, she was very glad thereof, and therefore she made a sign unto the fair Forlorn that he should lead her to the Table, where the trial was to be made, but so soon as the kerchief was set upon her head the blasted flowers were as green and as fair as those that were most fresh, so that there was no difference at all to be perceived. Wherefore Macandon cried out: Ah Madam, you are she whom I have sought for forty years before you were borne, now said he to the fair Forlorn, I pray you sir defer not the honour which is by you two due unto me: but if you please (as already I have entreated you) make me knight, then of this fair Lady (according as I am bound) I will receive my Arms. Let it be then presently said the fair Forlorn, for I am not to tarry long here. Therefore Macandon caused forthwith his Armour to be brought, wherewith he was presently armed putting it upon his white coat according as new knights are wont to do, than the fair Forlorn, laying his sword upon his shoulder, and fastening on his right spur, gave him his order, Oriana girded on his Sword which was in like sort brought by his Esquires. Which ceremony being finished, the Gentlewomen beholding him in that order, would in some sort be revenged for the flouts which he had given them, and therefore they all burst into a laughter, especially Al●…, who spoke so loud that all might hear her.  
Behold the countenance of this fair Lad how like a young knight he looketh: Surely we ought all to rejoice, because he shall all his life long seem as fresh and lusty as now he is. How know you that, answered Estreletta? By his apparel said she, which shall even last as long as he. Fair Gentlewomen said Macandon, I would not change my pleasure for the best of your favours: and if I am not so youthful as you say, yet am I not therefore to be termed less discreet, but as for you who are yet young and foolish, it were good that you learn to be more advised and modest than you are. This answer of his pleased the King very well, who in he sort liked of the gentlewomen's speeches. Whilst these things were in doing, the fair Forlorn was ready to depart, when the Queen who knew not her own daughter, said unto her, Gentlewoman although you are not desirous to be known in this company, yet bethink you what it will please you to command either of the king or me. By my faith, Madam, answered the fair Forlorn, I am as little acquainted with her as you, although she hath been seven days together in my company, but for that little that I have perceived by her, I can assure you that she is most excellent fair. Trust me fair Lady, said Briolonia (speaking unto Oriana) I know not your name, but considering the loyalty wherewith you are endued, if your friend do, affect you with the like constancy as you do love him, you may well be termed the fairest couple that ever love united together. 〈◊〉 Oriana smiled at the words of Briolania, when the fair Forlorn took his leave, who seeing that the King would lead her towards her horse he said unto him. Your Majesty hath reason to honour her, by whom your Court hath this day been more highly exalted, then ever heretofore by any other Lady it hath been. In good sooth answered the king, you say true, and therefore I will myself conduct her forth of the City, in the which I could willingly desire that it would please her, (and you also) to make some longer abode. Saying so, they all mounted on horseback, and the king held the rains of his daughter's horse, speaking all the way unto her, who answered him not one word again, fearing to be known. Galaor in like sort entertained the fair Forlorn. But he so much hated him for the reasons before rehearsed, that he could not speak one courteous word unto him, whereat the Fair Forlorn laughed seeing his brother's countenance, and thus they road together a good way from the city, until the fair Forlorn said unto the King: I beseech your Majesty (if it please you) to pass no further, otherwise you may chance to displease this Gentlewoman, believe me said the King, I will rather return. Therewithal he embraced him, and said, I would sir knight that it liked you, to be one of my knights. If it please your Majesty, answered he, I will willingly be one of the hundred that shall accompany you against king Cildadan. If you do me that favour said the king, I hope that thereby our enemies would be no less discouraged than those on our part would be encouraged, & therefore I entreat you so to be. Thus they departed, the king taking his way back to the city, and the fair Forlorn with Oriana towards the Forest, being very joyful that they had so well finished that dangerous adventure. But they were no sooner arrived at the Fountain of the three channels, when they beheld an esquire coming towards them mounted upon a strong horse, who at his arrival said unto the fair Forlorn: knight, Arcalaus commandeth thee that thou bring this Gentlewoman unto him, which if thou deniest to accomplish, he saith that he will himself come take thy head from thy shoulders. And where is Arcalaus? Answered the fair Forlorn. The Esquire showed him where he sat under a tuft of Trees, together with another knight, both twain armed & ready to mount on horseback. When Oriana heard this message, the poor soul was in such extreme fear, that she was likely to have fallen from her horse, wherefore the fair Forlorn said unto her. How now sweet Lady, are you afraid of Arcalaus being in my keeping? no, no, he threateneth to have my head, and yet he shall quit himself well if he can save his own. Then he betook him to his arms, & said unto the esquire, go, return unto thy master and tell him, that I am a strange knight that knoweth him not, and therefore I will not do that. The esquire returned to Arcalaus who was so mad angry therewith, that he said unto the other knight which was with him, good nephew Lindoraque go take the kerchief from that damosel, for I do give it to Madasima your love, & if he that conducteth her will contradict it, cut off his head forthwith, & afterwards hang it up by the hair upon the next tree. Therewithal Lindoraq went towards the fair Forlorn, who had heard all the words of Arcalaus, whereupon he came to meet him. And although he seemed to be very great, as he which was the son of Cartadaque, the giant of the invincible mountain, begotten upon one of the sisters of Arcalaus, yet did the Fair Forlorn make so little account of him, that he said unto him, knight pass no further: wherefore? answered Lindoraq. Because said the fair Forlorn, it pleaseth me not. Thou wilt be far more displeased when thou must lose thy head. Indeed said the fair Forlorn, so I would, but thou art more like to lose thine own, if thou keep it not the better. And without any longer debating, he clapped the spurs to his horse, couching his staff against Lindoraque & Lindoraq in like sort against him, so that they met one another with such force, that their lances (hitting in the midst of their shields) flew in shivers. Nevertheless the fair Forlorn finding Lindoraq at advantage, unhorsed him, and the truncheon of the stasse remained in his body, yet did he rise up again speedily, for he was a knight of a stout heart, and beholding that his enemy turned to charge him again, thinking to recoil back to avoid his blow, he fell down over & over, so that the truncheon in his body passed further into him, with the extreme pain whereof, he gave up the Ghost, Arcalaus who had seen his Nephew thrown down, did suddenly put his staff in his rest to revenge him, and running against the fair Forlorn he had surely hit him, if he had not turned somewhat out of the way, but he stepped on the one side, letting Arcalaus pass by, and in his passing, he struck him such a blow over the left hand, that he cut off four of his fingers, leaving him no more than his thumb to hold his shield which he was forced to let fall, the great pain whereof enforced him to fly as fast as his horse could run, without so much as once looking behind him, and the fair Forlorn after him, who made all the hast he could to overtake him. Notwithstanding Arcalaus was so well mounted, that in less than an hour he had so far gotten the start, that the Fair Forlorn wishing all the devils in hell to follow him, returned again to Oriana, and therewithal he forthwith commanded Enil to carry the head of Lindoraque and the piece of Arcalaus his hand unto the king, and that he should recite unto him at large upon what occasion he was in such sort assailed. So Enil departed leaving Amadis and Oriana together, who shortly after arrived at Mirefleur, where they found Gandalin and Durin staying without the garden walls, to take their horses when they should come: they came to help the Princess down, and they told her that Mabila and the damosel of Denmark were on the other side of the wall in the Orchard. Here-upon they raised up a Lather, and Oriana mounted upon it, whom the fair Forlorn led by the hand, when they were at the top of the wall they beheld Mibila and the damosel of Denmark lying fast asleep upon the grass, very heavy with the fear that they had endured all the day, least matters should not sort to so good effect as they wished. Then Oriana called them showing unto them the Kerchief which she had gotten, which so soon as they beheld they presently ran to help her down: and when she was come into the Orchard, Mabila said unto her, Madam, I never had greater dsire to see you return, than I have had ever since your departure from hence. For if you had been discovered, the damosel & I had been but in a bad taking: nevertheless we determined to arm us withpatience. My good Cousin answered she, thanks be to God, all goeth well, I have the kerchief, and your Cousin hath the sword. ay, but thank our Tears (said Mabila) by the which they were chiefly gotten. My Cousin said the fair Forlorn, I will not stick to shed for you as much blood, as you have for me done tears, whensoever you have need of me, but I pray if you have any thing to eat, bring it into my Lady's chamber, for we have gotten us good stomachs. Herewithal he led Oriana by the hand into the castle. Now because we will not digress over far from that which happened to king Lisuart, we will leave Oriana and her company at Mirefleur, to tell you what happened unto his Majesty and Galaor, as they returned from the fair Forlorn, before they came back unto the city. For a young damosel did meet them, who delivered unto each one of them a letter, sent from Vrganda the Unknown, and without saying any other thing unto them, she turned her horse toward that way from whence she came. Wherefore the king opened his Letter which contained this that ensueth. Unto you Lisuart king of great Britain, such health & happiness as beseemeth your Royal Majesty. I Vrganda the Unknown, your humble servant, do certify you, that the battle which is appointed betwixt you and king Cildadan shall be one of the most dangerous and cruelest that ever was seen, in the which the fair Forlorn, who hath newly given such great hope unto your Majesty shall lose his name, & by one blow that he shall give, all his valiant deeds shall be quite forgotten, and then shall you be in the greatest extremity that ever you were: for many good knigts shall lose their lives, and you yourself shall fall into the like danger, at that same instant when the fair Forlorn shall draw blood from you, nevertheless by three blows which he shall give, those on his side shall remain conquerors.  
And be your Majesty assured that without doubt all this shall happen therefore provide for all your affairs with good advise. After that the king had read this letter, although that he was a stout prince, valiant, and of a courageous heart, yet (knowing Vrganda worthy to be believed in all her prophecies) he was afraid, doubting lest the fair Forlorn in whom he most trusted, would revolt unto the side of the Ireland king, and knowing also what danger was likely to ensue, he nevertheless dissembled the matter whatsoever he though thereof. And after he had a long while mused thereupon, he declared the whole circumstance of it unto Galaor, saying unto him. My faithful friend, I do wholly determine to impart this secret unto you, and to none other, that I may understand what is your advise therein. Believe me, if it like your Majesty answered he, considering what Vrganda hath written unto me, I have more need of counsel myself, then to counsel another, and if it were possible to conclude a peace betwixt you and the king of Ireland (provided that your honour were not thereby to be impaired) me thinks it should be for the best, or at least if that cannot be, it were good that you should not be present in the battle. For I do see in this Letter two strange accidents likely to fall out, the one is that the fair Forlorn, shall wound you so cruelly, that he shall shed your blood upon the ground, and the other that by three blows which he shall give, those on his side shall remain conquerors, and by this advertisement it seemeth that he shall be against you. Truly said the king I am so thoroughly assured of your good will that I know you do faithfully and lovingly advise me, so as if my trust were not in God (who hitherto hath bestowed innumerable favours upon me, as in choosing me king over his people) or if I did not steadfastly believe that no living man is able to withstand his divine determination, I should have great reason to be in doubt, but you know that the hearts & discretion of kings ought to be answerable unto the greatness of their estate and calling, endeavouring as well to preserve their subjects in safety, as to provide for their own security. And therefore I determine to remit all into the hands of my God, and patiently to endure whatsoever danger he shall lay upon me, for in him only remaineth the disposition of things to come, for which cause my good friend, I assure you, that I will be present in this battle, for because I would be partaker of all the good, honour, or hurt that may happen unto those which shall accompany me. Greatly did Galaor like of the kings magnanimous determinations and answered him, believe me it is not for nothing that your Majesty is esteemed the most virtuous and valiantest Prince of the world, and if all kings could as well repress the counsel of those who dissuade them from their haughty enterprises, none durst be once so bold as to say any thing unto them, but that which should be for their honour and glory, but now your Majesty may be pleased to see what Vrganda hath written unto me. Herewithal he began to read his Letter, wherein was contained this which ensueth.  
Unto you Don Galaor of Gaul, most valiant and hardy Knight, I Vrganda the Unknown, do send all hearty salutations, as she who both loveth and esteemeth you, & I will that you should understand that which must happen unto you, in this cruel battle between the two kings, Lisuart and Cildadan. If you be there be you sure that in the end thereof, your large and strong members, shall want power to assist your invincible heart, & at the departure from the Combat your head shall be in his power, who with the three blows that he shall strike shall remain conqueror. In faith said the king, if the contents of the Letter be true, and that you be in this conflict, you see your death prepared, which should be a great loss considering your valiant beginning in deeds of arms, therefore I shall so order the matter, as at this time you shall be excused from thence. It may please your Majesty, answered Galaor, I now do very well perceive, that the counsel which even now I delivered unto you, hath displeased your Majesty, when seeing me sound and able of body, you would persuade me to a matter so greatly to my dishonour, God forbid that I should herein obey you. Gentle friend said the king, you speak both virtuously, and valiantly, for the which I thank you: and for this time, let us leave off this talk, and my advice is, that none do see our Letters, for (it may be) they may cause some fear & astonishment even in the hearts of those that do think themselves to be most hardy and valiant. By this time they were come so near unto the City, that they entered under the gate thereof, & as the king looked behind, he beheld two knights armed at all points, whose horses were over-travelled & weary, and their armour all to broken, in such sort that it was very easy to be perceived that they had been at some bickering. One was Brunco de Bon'Mer, and the other Branfil his brother, who came of purpose unto king Lisuart, to be of the number of those hundred knights which should be in the battle, if it pleased him to accept of them. But by the way Brunco had been advertised, how the adventure of the Sword was achieved, wherewith he was marvelous displeased that he came no sooner, because he would have tried his fortune therein, as he had done under the Arch of loyal lovers, the which he had passed, and for the firm and constant love that he did bear unto Melicia sister unto Amadis, he did verily believe that no such like adventure might escape him: these two knights being come near, did their duty unto the king, who received the very courteously. Then said Brunco, it may please your Majesty we have been advertised of a battle which you have agreed to be executed by a few knights, & so much the rather ought they to be selected and chosen men. For this cause if it would please your highness to do us this honour that we might be of the same number your Majesty may be assured that we would be very desirous to serve you. The King who had many times been advertised of the prowess of these twain, especially of the valour of Don Brunco (who for a young knight, was as much esteemed as any other that might be found) accepted of them very willingly, and thanked them for their good will.  
Now did not Brunco as yet know Galaor, but at the same instant they entered into such acquaintance and familiarity together, that until the Battle was finished, they parted not asunder.  
And as the king entered into his lodging, Enil came before him, with the head of Lindoraq which did hang by the hair at the paitrill of his horse, and he had in his hand the shield and fingers of Arcalaus the Enchanter, by means whereof before he was come near the Palace, a great number of people did follow him, to know what news he did bring. Afterwards being come into the kings presence, he declared unto him the message that the fair Forlorn had sent by him, wherewith he was no less glad, then amazed at so many good and blessed chanses that every day happened and proceeded from this strange knight, and he remained a great while praising & extolling him without ceasing. In like sort Filipinel who had been to give defiance unto the Giants, at the same instant approached, & he recited the names and surnames of those which were appointed to be in the battle of king Cildadan, amongst whom there were found many strong Giants, and other knights of great worth, who were all embarked already, and how before that four days were passed, they would all take landing in the bay of Vega, where the battle was to be fought, than he told the king how he had found at the burning Lake (which stands in the Isle of Mongasa) king Arban of North wales, and Angriotta d'Estrauaux prisoners unto Grumadaca wise unto Famongomad: who caused them to suffer infinite miseries and calamities, whipping them every day most cruelly so that their bodies were wounded all over, and they wrote a letter unto the king, which Filipinel delivered unto him, the tenure whereof ensueth. Unto the most high and mighty Prince Lisuart king of great Britain, and to all our Friends and Allies within his Dominions. We Arban once king of North wales, and Angriotta d'Estrauaux, now detained in dolorous prison, do let you know that our misfortune, more cruel than death itself, hath brought us into the power of the most pitiless Grumadaca wife to Famongomad, who in revenge of the death of her Husband and Son, doth daily cause us to be tortured with so many and strange torments, that it is impossible to be imagined, so as every hour we desire the abridging of our days, that thereby we might be released of our dolours. But this mischievous woman, the more to lengthen our pain, deferreth our death as much as she may, the which with our own hands we had effected, but that the fear of the loss of our souls withheld us.  
And for as much as we are at this present so extremely wounded, that we are no longer able to resist our deaths, we send you this Letter, written with our blood, by the which we beseech God both to grant you the victory against these traitors, that have in such inhuman sort tormented us, and also that he will be pleased to have mercy upon our souls. Great sorrow and compassion had the King for the loss of these 2. knights, nevertheless seeing that for the present he could in no sort remedy their misfortune, he dissembled his grief, showing as good a countenance as he could, & because he would in no sort discourage the other Gentlemen there present, he set before their eyes the accidents whereinto many others had fallen, for the maintenance of their Honour of Knighthood, from the which many times they have with great glory and honour escaped. But assure you my friends, said the King, that if we do gain the Battle, I will take such revenge hereof, that the rumour thereof shall fill the ears of all the people in the World. Therefore they who are appointed to go w●… me, let them be ready to 〈◊〉 row, for I will depart to go meet mine enemies. And according as it was appointed so was all performed.   

CHAP. XVI.  
How that after the Fair Forlorn had brought Oriana back again to Mirefleur he departed, that he might be in the battle with King Lifuart, and what happened unto him.  
THree days did the fair Forlorn remain with Oriana after the gaining of the sword and Kerchief, and the fourth day following about midnight he took his leave of her, and being armed at all points, he road all the might long. Now had he commanded Enil to go and stay for him at a Castle situated at the foot of a Hill, near unto the which the Battle was to be fought, and it belonged unto an ancient knight named Abradan: for in his house were all adventurous knights oftentimes honoured and served, when they came thither to lodge. And the same night did the fair Forlorn pass hard by king Lisuart his Camp not being perceived at all, afterwards he road so long that upon the 5. day following he came unto Abradan his house, where he found Enil which was there arrived but a little before: greatly was the fair Forlorn feasted by his Host, and as they were talking together, there entered in two of his nepheus that were returned from the place where the combat should be: who assured them that already King Cildadan and his troop, were there arrived, and had set up their Ten●… and Pavilions hard by the sea side. In like sort Don Grameda and Gi●…tes Nephew to king Lisuart were there come, with whom a Truce was concluded upon either part, to be holden until the day of the battle, and that neither of the two Princes should enter into the Combat with any more than one hundred knights in his company, according as it was promised and sworn by them. Nephews, said the host, what do you think of the Irishmen, whom God confound Uncle answered one of them, they have with them so many Giants, that if God do not miraculously assist our good king, believe me it is impossible for him to withstand them. Herewithal the tears sell from their uncles eyes, and he said, I hope that God will protect the best and justest king in the world, from falling into the hands of such wicked people. Mine host, answered the fair Forlorn, be not afraid as yet, for it happeneth out very often that courage and equity overthroweth the pride and presumption of the strongest. But I pray you go unto the king, and tell him that there is lodged in your house a knight called the Fair Forlorn, and that he desireth his Majesty to send word by you, when the day of the battle shall be. What said the old man, are you he that of late did send Don Quedragant unto his Court, and slew Famongomad and his son, when they had taken my Lady Lenor and her knights? believe me Sir, if ever I did any pleasure unto adventurous knights, I do enen at this present acknowledge me thoroughly to be recompensed, my house being now honoured with your presence, and I will not fail to accomplish that which it hath pleased you to command me. Then he mounted upon his horse, and took with him his two Nephews, and road until he came where king Lisuart was encamped, within half a lengue of his enemies, unto whom he declared the message of the Fair Forlorn, at the which all the company did greatly rejoice. And the King answered: seeing that we have the Fair Forlorn on our side, I do also hope that we shall have the honour of the our enterprise. And now see the number of one hundred knights very well furnished, had we but one knight more. It may please your Majesty said Grumedan, you now have the advantage, for the Fair Forlorn is well worth five. This speech did nothing at all please Galaor, Florestan, not Agrays, for they hated the Fair Forlorn unto death, for the wrong which they thought he did unto Amadis, nevertheless they held their peace, and Abradan having received his answer of the King, returned to his guest, unto whom he recited the pleasure that every one received at the news that he brought from him, and of the hundred knights there was no more than one missing, but that they were all assembled. The which being understood by Enil, he did so much that he found his Master apart and falling down upon his knees, he said unto him: My Lord, although my service unto you hath not been such as it should, and therefore have I nothing at all deserved, yet am I so bold at this time to request one gift of you, which I beseech you most humbly to grant unto me. Demand it said he, and rise up. My Lord said Enil, I pray you the make me knight, to the end that I may go unto the King to entreat his Majesty that he will be pleased to accept of me for the last knight of his number. Friend Enil said the Fair Forlorn, me thinks that thou shouldst begin to try thy prowess in a place less dangerous than this battle will be, not because I would defer to make thee knight, but in that I know it is too weighty a charge for thee. My Lord said Enil, I know that in all my life I cannot have a better means to gain honour: for if I die amongst so many men of worth, my reputation shall be there by increased, and if I may escape, my renown shall be perpetual, having been one in number with a hundred of the best knights in the world. The Fair Forlorn hearing Enil speak so virtuously, with a kind pity that he had of him, he ruminated these words to himself. Thou dost well show thyself to be a kinsman unto the good knight Gandales my second father. Then he answered Enil, if thou have so great a desire to prove thyself snch a one as thou sayest, I will no longer dissuade thee. And therewithal he presently went unto his host, and entreated him to give him an armour for his Esquire, who desired to be made a knight, the which he granted, wherefore Enil according to the custom, watched all night in the Chapel, and the next morning about the break of day, after service was ended, he received the order of knighthood by the Fair Forlorn, which done they all mounted on horseback, in the company of Abradan and his two Nephews, who served them for their Esquires. In the end they arrived where king Lisuart had already ordered his battle, being ready to go meet his enemies, who stayed his coming in a plain field, but when the King beheld the Fair Forlorn, he was exceeding joyful, and there was not any in the company, whose courage was not increased at his coming. Then he approached near unto the king, unto whom he said, it may please your Majesty, I am come to accomplish my promise, and also I do bring another knight with me, for I was advertised that your number was not full, wherewithal the king gave him most hearty thanks, and although there was not any one of the hundred knights, who were not all approomen, and esteemed amongst the best, yet king Lisuart (after he had ordered his battalion, seeing his enemies aproached) began to make this Oration unto his army. My fellows, loving friends and countrymen, I am sure there is not any one amongst you, who knoweth not very well, how we have undertaken this battle with great right, especially for the defence of the honour and reputation of the Realm of Great Britain, which king Cildadan and those of Ireland would abase, in denying unto us the tribute which they have time out of mind paid unto our predecessors, for the acknowledgement of the fa●… that in times past they have received at their hands. Moreover I am thoroughly assured that there is not any of you all, whose heart is not both valiant and invincible for which cause there is no need th●… you should be further an●…, or encouraged, against those with whom you are to encounter, having your honour before your eyes, which I know you do more esteem than an hundred lives, (if it were possible that so many you might have) one after another. Therefore than my dear friends let us boldly march on, not respecting a small number of cruel and bloody minded Gy●…, that are in their troop, for a man is not to be esteemed the vali●… by the outward appearance of his great, strong, and huge members, but by the magnanimous & courageous heart that remaineth within him: you do oftentimes behold the dog to master the bull, and the sparrow hawk or hobby to beat the kite. Our enemies trust in the force of these monsters, without having any respect unto the wrong that they maintain, and we only put our 〈◊〉 in God, who being the righter of all injuries, will give unto us suffcient strength to vanquish them, by the dexterity of our persons & our own endeavours. Let us boldly then march on my friends, every one bearing this mind, th●● he is able both to combat and conquer the proudest of their troop, assuring you it this day we gain the honour of the battle, that besides the honour and glory that shallbe spread of us thorough the whole world, never enemy to great Britain dare once hereafter be so bold as to lift up his head to do us the least injury that may be. Thus did king Lisuart encourage his knights: and king Cildadan on the other side did the like unto his, for he went from rank to rank to animate them, saying unto them: Gentle knights of Ireland, if you understand upon what occasion you go to fight, there is not one of you that will not blame his predecessor, for being so slack in the undertaking of so glorious an enterprise. The kings of Great Britain, Usurpers and Tyrants (not only towards their subjects, but also upon their neighbours) have heretofore without any right, exacted upon their ancestors such a tribute, as is very well known hath often been paid, and for this cause we have made this assembly, and are come unto this place to defend our liberty, which cannot be paid by any treasure. It is your cause, it is your right, and not yours only but your children's, who until this present time have been held, and reputed by those whom you see determined likewise to make you servants and slaves. Will you then always live in this sort? Will you continue this yoke unto your successors? are you of less courage, or of less substance than your neighbours? Ah if we are conquerors they shall restore that which they have had of us. I am very sure that Fortune doth favour us, for you see what men of worth are come unto our aid, knowing our great right. Let us resist them, let us resist them valiant knights. I see King Lisuart and his troop now in fear & ready to turn their backs unto us. They are as they say, accustomed to vanquish, but we will reach them to accustom themselves to be vanquished. One thing I would advise you, that every one help his fellow, keeping you as close together as possibly you may. And longer would he have continued his Oration, if he had not seen King Lisuart prepared to join with him. Wherefore he retired into the midst of his squadron, and said very loud, Now have at them, since they will eat, give them cold iron enough.  
At this cry every man prepared to receive his enemy, showing by their countenance that they were men most hardy, and courageous. And foremost of all did march the Fair Forlarne, accompanied with Enil, as, also Galaor, Florestan, Agraies, Gandalac the Giant (who stole Galaor away ●…en he was bu● two years old) and his two sons Bramandill, and Gainus, whom Galaor had newly made knights. After them Nicoran de Pont Craintif, Dragonis, Palomir, Vivorant, Giontes (Nephew to the King) the most renowned Brunni● de Bonne Mer, his brother Branfill, and Guillan the Penfif, who all marched after old Grumedan, (a knight of honour belonging to the Queen) who carried King Lisuart his standard.  
On King Cildadan his side the Giants made the front of the battle, with twenty knights all near a kin unto the King, who (like a provident General) appointed that Mandafabull the Giant of the Isle of the Vermilion Tower, should remain upon the top of a little hill, with ten of the best knights in their troop, commanding them not to stir from thence, until they should perceive assuredly toward the end of the battle that the most valiant knights of Knig Lisuarte side should be scattered and weary, and that then they should rush in upon them, without spearing any man, saving the King's person. Whom they should take prisoner, and if they should perceive any great resistance to be made, they should kill him if they could not carry him unto their ships. Thus the two battles approached so near one to another, that they came to the joining together: there might you have seen Lances broken, armour clattering, arms strooken off, some crying, others breaking the ranks of their enemies, so that this day might be well called a sorrowful and dismal day, for those that were in this conflict, the which continued so long, until the most part of the day was past, yet none of them ●●ad so much time as once to breath, and yet it was so hot, that there was neither horse nor Knight that was not weary & exrteamly travailed: for somelay upon the ground, and the most part of the rest (in little better case) were so weak, that they could scant sit upon their horses. At the same time the Fair Forlorn fearing lest the loss should fall upon their fide, begun to show all his force and strength, and he lighted upon never an Irishman nor giant, but that he drew the blood from his body. Close by his side did King Lisuart ride, who did well show the great prowess that remained in him, and he was not ignorant of what consequence the end of this battle was, for losing the victory thereof, he lost his dignity, his life and honour, by means whereof without sparing his person, he was entered in amongst his enemies, having his right arm all died with the blood of those, whose lives had passed by the edgt of his sword. On the other side, Agraies, Galaor, Florestan, hane from the beginning seen the great force and high Knighthood that the Fair Forlorn had executed upon his enemies, they who of long time did malign him, determined either to die, or to make known unto every one, that they could also fight as well or better than he, so that this emulation was partly the cause of the animating of them so far, that they all had likely to have lost their lives, for Galaor chafed like a Lion that is pursued, came rushing in among the Giants, and encountered Cartadaque of the invincible mountain, who already with his battle are, had overthrown at his feet fi● of king Lisuarts knights, although that he was wounded upon the shoulder, with a blow that Florestan had given him, whereby he lost much of his blood, than Galaor came unto him, and with all his strength, he gave him so great a blow upon the head, that he cloven his helmet, and the sword passing down along cut of his ear, and the helue of his axe close unto his fist.  
Wherefore the Giant finding himself disfurnished of his weapon, ran upon Galaor, and lifted him up with such force, that he took him up from his horse, crushing him between his arms so straightly, that one might easily have heard his bones crack. Nevertheless, the Giant could not sit so sure in his saddle, but that he was forced to fall to the ground with his burden, wherefore Galaor (which yet held his sword in his hand) found the means to thrust him in the beaver of his helmet, and it entered so far into his head, that he there withal yielded up the Ghost. But Galaor was so tired, that after he was gotten up from under Cartadaque he had not power to pull his sword from the place wherein he had thrusted it, and (that which was worst) he was so crowded with the press of people, that he was likely to have died under the horses feet, for many good knights both of the one and of the other side, (having seen the encounter between him and the Giant, and the peril of them both) were approached, of purpose to succour them, by means whereof the battle was then very great and marvelous hot, for King Cildadan suddenly came to that place, who overthrew all those he found in his way, and had not the Fair Forlorn been (who with one blow of his sword struck him off his horse) Galaor had there surely died or been taken, but when he beheld King Cildadan on foot beside him, he princely seized his sword which he held, and began to defend himself, and that so valiantly as maugre all his enemies, he made them give him room. Notwithstanding he had overchafed himself so much in this last bickering, that he was quite out of breath, and he fell down flat upon the earth. There was the Giant Gandalac, who had fostered him up in his infancy, he seeing him fall, was so angry that with great rage he buckled with Albadanor another Giant, and so many strokes they gave unto each other with their clubs, that they & their horses were overthrown, wherewith Albadanor had his arm broken and Gandalac his leg. But they were not alone that were thus 〈◊〉 entreated, for one might have seen more than six score knights lying upon the ground, and yet was not half the day spent. Then Mandafabull the Giant of the Isle of the ●ed To●●r; who had been appointed ●or to depart from the little hill wh●… remained ●…till the 〈…〉, of the 〈…〉, seeing so many knights dead, ●…tered and ●ounded though 〈◊〉 he might well end this enterprise, and that it were very easy for them to defeat the rest● by means whereof he began to run right unto that place where was 〈◊〉 greatest press, crying unto his knights: Take h●●d that none escape away alive, let all pass by the edge of the sword, as for me, I have vowed to take King Lisuart in hand, for he is mine dead or alive. This cry was heard of every one, especially of the Fair Forlorn, who returned from taking of a fresh horse, which one of the nephews unto his host had resetued for him, and fearing that the Giant would do as he said, he came and stepped before the King, with Agrays, Florestan, Branco de Bonne Mer, Branfil, Guillan the P●…if and Enil, who had all day long behaved himself so valiantly, that he was had in very great reputation. Now was M●ndafabull better seconded than he thought, for as he approached near unto the esquadron of King Lisuart, Sar●…dan the Leonnois, Uncle to King Cildadan, one of the best knights of his stock, came forth of the troop, and running against the Fair Forlorn, he hit him so right a blow through his shield, that he wounded him, yet not very much, and in passing by, the Fair Forlorn did hit him such a thwart blow with his sword upon the beaver of his helm, that he cut both his eyes and the half of his visage off, throwing him down stark dead upon the ground.  
Herewithal Mandafabull and those that were with him being 〈◊〉 angry, entered pell mel among King Lisuart his knights with such fury, that manger their resistance, Mandafabull took hold of the King by the collar, and lifted him from his horse, carrying him under his arms right unto his ships. But the fair Forlorn was ware of it, who ran after him and overtook the Giant, hitting him so forcibly with his sword upon the arm, that he cut it off hard by the elbow, and the blow sliding down, wounded the King in such sort, that the blood fell down upon the ground. Then Mandafabull with the great grief that he felt, gave a loud cry, and without going any further, he fell down dead in the place, where-upon the Fair Forlorn seeing that his blow had so well profited, as that therewithal he had slain such a Giant, and delivered the King in like sort, he began to cry aloud Gaul, Gaul, here is Amadis who is yet alive. So saying he entered amongst the thickest of his enemies, who had in a manner lost their hearts, by seeing two of the principallest of their army in that sort to be slain, especially knowing that Amadis (whom they long before thought to be dead) was present to their confusion. And had not Gandaturiell one of the strongest Giants in their troop encouraged them again, they had then surely turned their backs, but he valiantly made head against his enemies, which being perceived by Amadis, who was desirous to revenge his brother Galaor, whom he imagined to be dead, he thrust himself amongst his enemies, and entered into the thickest of the press, so far that there he had remained, without the aid which King Lisuart brought unto him, who had recovered his horse, and there were in his company Brunco, Florestan, Guillan, L●…, Galuaves, Olinas, and Don Gr●…da●, who carried his standard, which was cut asunder between his arms. All those seeing Amadis in so great danger (although the most part of them were very sorely wounded) had such exceeding joy when they knew that it was he, that they bestirred them in such sort, as notwithstanding all the resistance that these Ir●… could make, they gave aid unto Amadis, and passing on further they found Agrays, Palo●…fil and Dragonis, manfully fight on foot against those that had thrown them down. Yet they were so nearly driven, that they could not any longer withstand the force of their enemies, although they had already slain more than six, as well Giants as Irishmen which would have overrun them, and without doubt they had been so handled had not these succours come unto them. So that they which would have forced them, had enough to do to defend themselves, because that Amadis (in spite of them) made them to recoil back, and that in such sort as with the aid of his troop he was the mean that his cozen Agraies and his fellows did remount their horses. Then the forces of King Lisuart increased, and the Irish troops decreased, who despairing of all help, had recourse unto their vessels which were alcoate hard by 〈…〉 shore to save their boo●y i●… tune had not contradicted them● but Amadis pursuing the victory, chased them with such fury, that the most part of the vanquished, desired rather to be buried amidst the waves of the Sea, then on the shore, which was so died and watered with their blood. The which Gandaturiell perceiving (being esteemed amongst all the Giants one of the stoutest) without any fear at all of his death, which he saw ready prepated for him, desiring before the end of his days to be revenged, bearing his head somewhat low, and holding his sharp sword in his hand, he would have strooken at king Lisuart, but Florestan stepped before him, who hit him so sound a knock with his sword upon the Helmet, that he made it fly from his head, and the King who was hard at hand, seeing him bare, divided his pa●e into two parts. Then was there a great slaughter of the Irishmen, for they were all now overthrown by Amadis, Florestan, and Agraies: who pursued them even into the Sea, where they were swallowed up with waves, wherewith king Lisuart and his people retired. And because that Amadis had marked the place where he had seen Galaor strooken down, he prayed his cozen Agraies & others that they would help him to find him amongst the dead. Nevertheless they had not found him without the help of Florestan: who knew him by a green sleeve which he did wear, wrought full of white flowers, but he was so covered with blood & dust, that they could scant know him. And I do not know so hard a heart which had then seen the moan that Amadis did make for him, that would not have burst forth into tears, for he beholding him in this estate, fell down all along upon him. Whereby his 〈◊〉 did open, against which the congealed blood was already settled, and I think that Amadis had died upon him if twelve Damosels had not by chance come thither suddenly, who were very richly attired, and had c●…sed a rich bed to be brought by their Esquires, these finding Amadis so desperate, say do unto him▪ My Lord we are come hither to seek your brother Galaor, and if you will ever see him alive, suffer us to carry him presently away, other wise there is no Chirurgeon in all Great Britain that is able to heal him.  
Herewithal Amadis was greatly ashamed, because the Damosels had found him in that order, and although that he knew them not, yet hearing them speak of his brother's health, he determined (seeing the extreme peril wherein he was) not to refuse their request, though it was to his extreme grief. And therefore he answered them, my fair gentlewomen, may in please you to tell us whither you will carry him. Not now said they, but if you will desire to have him live, give him unto us without any longer delay, otherwise we will be gone. Alas answered he, I pray let me follow you. You may not, and yet for your sake we are content that Ardan the Dwarf and his Esquire shall accompany him. Then they laid him upon the bed (all armed as he was) & they caused him forthwith to be carried into the ship from whence they were come, which was yet close to the shore. Afterwards they returned again unto king Lisuart, to entreat him that he would give them king Cildadan, who lay among the dead, and to induce him thereunto, they showed unto him that although Fortune 〈◊〉 favoured him in this exploit, yet he should not extend his cruelty upon his enemy. The which the King considering, permitted them to carry him away dead or alive, wherefore the Damosels took him up and carried him away with Galaor, and so soon as they came into the ship they set sail, having the wind so fair, that suddenly they were out of all men's sight.  
Thus king Lisuart remained conqueror over his enemies, going quite through the field to find out as well such of his own people as those of his enemies, that were not yet thoroughly dead, to cause them carefully to be looked unto by skilful Surgeons. And as he went from one place to another, he met with Amadis, whose face was all to be blubbered with tears, unto whom he had not as yet spoken since his return, and seeing him so heavy, after he had known the cause of his moan, he showed an evident sign of the sorrow that he sustained for Galaors' sake, whom he loved as dearly as himself, & not without cause, for from the first day that he received him for one of his knights, he always served him faithfully, never forsaking him for any war or debate that happened between his majesty & Amadis, as hereafter shall be rehearsed unto you. But the King desirous to manifest the force of his virtue, the better to comfort his knights, all wounded as he was, lighted from his horse to embrace Amadis, who kneeled down to show his duty unto his Majesty. My dear friend said king Lisuart, you are most happily met, I know now very well, that without your aid the realm of Great Britain had been in no small danger, and I pray you be not so heavy for the loss of your brother, seeing that the Damosels have assured you of his health.  
In this sort want king 〈◊〉 comforting of Amadis, whom he caused to mount on horseback, and afterwards he brought him into his tent where there was brought somewhat for them to eat, & because he would depart the next day, he appointed over night that the dead should be buried in a Monastery hard by the place where the battle was given, upon the which place he had bestowed great riches, to cause them to pray for him. In like sort he dispatched a knight to go in haste to advertise the Queen of the victory that he had gotten over his enemies, and the next morning he took his way toward the C●●y of Gonata (which was about four leagues off) where he remained until he and his people were ●ealed. While these things were i● doing, the Queen Brial●… got leave of Queen Brisena, that she might go to Mirefleur to visit Oriana, having a great desire to see her, because she was renowned through all the world for her most excellent beauty. Of whose coming Oriana being advertised, she caused the place to be decked up as well as possibly it might be, and she received her most honourably, but when she beheld her to be●●● fair, the suspicion that she had conceived against Amadis, was not so thoroughly mortified but that it somewhat revived again in her, notwithstanding all the proof that she had had of him, either by his passing through the Arch of loyal lovers, or by his winning of the old man's sword, believing assuredly that it was a thing impossible that any man could be so constant as he might forbe are from loving a creature so beautiful as Briolania was. On the other side Briolania verily thought that the often sighs of Amadis in her presence, proceeded of no other cause, but the affection which he did bear unto Oriana: for she was the most rare Princess and of the sweetest grace that ever she had seen. Thus were these two Ladies suspicious one of another, and they remained together discoursing of diverse matters agreeable to their affections, especially of the virtues and perfections of Amadis. But Oriana (the better to dive into the thought of Briolania) said unto her, I do much marvel gentle cozen, considering the bond wherein you are tied unto Amadis, (as also seeing that he is decsended from Emperors, and the son unto the king of Gaul) that you have not chosen him for your husband. Madam answered Briolania, believe me I should have thought myself most happy if the same might have been brought to pass, but yet of one thing I can assure you, the which I pray you to keep as secret as it deserveth. Many times did I motion such a matter unto him, but his continual sighs did presently yield me an answer in his behalf, yet could I never understand in what place his love was so settled, so covert and secret is he in all his affections: nevertheless let him be whatsoever he will be, he shall dispose of me, and all that mine is for ever, as he shall think good. Exceeding glad was Oriana to understand these news, by the which she appeased her new conceived jealousy against Amadis, and said unto Briolania, I do greatly marvel what she is whom he loveth as you say, and there is no doubt but that he is 〈◊〉 of the number of these lovers, by the testimony which the image of the enchanted Arch hath declared of him, for according unto that which hath been recited unto me, it showed more for him then ever it did for any that there before had passed. He loveth without doubt answered Briolania, but it is so secret that none may know what, or where she is.  
In this sort did the two Princesses pass away their time, still talking of Amadis during their abode in the Castle of Mirefleur, from whence within a few days after they departed to go towards Fenusa to see the Queen Brifena, where she stayed for King Lisuart, who was very glad to see her daughter return in so good health. There they had news of the victory that the King had against the Prince of Ireland, where with their joy redoubled, and God was highly praised: but when Queen Briolania knew that he which was called the Fair Forlorn was Amadis of Gaul never was there woman more joyful than she. And although that Oriana and Mabila knew the cause thereof very well (as you have heard) yet did they dissemble the matter, and seemed to wonder thereat no less than the rest, by means whereof Briolania did often times say thus unto them: would you ever have suspected that Amadis would have thus disguised himself, & taken a strange name amongst his dearest friends, desiring thereby to extinguish his own renown by the great prowess that he performed under the title of a stranger? By my faith, answered Oriana, if he return with the King, we must know of him wherefore he did it, and also what she was that gained the kerchief with him. I assure you said Briolania that we will not ●●icke to demand it of him, and I believe he will willingly tell us.   

CHAP. XVII.  
How King Cildadan and Galaor were unawares to themselves, carried away by twelve Damosels, and one of them was put into a strong Tower environed with the Sea, and the other in a garden enclosed with high walls, where they thought they had been in prison, and of that which happened there unto them.  
NOw we will rehearse unto you, the entertainment that was made unto King Cildadan and Galaor, whom the Gentlewomen had put into the ship, and they were carried and so well looked unto, that the third day following they began to amend, for until then they had lost all manner of feeling and remembrance. And Galaor found himself to be laid in a chamber (within a garden) furnished in the most sumptuous order that ever he had seen, the which was supported up with four Marble pillars, environed notwithstanding with great gates of iron, through the which he might easily see from his bed where he lay, all the circuit of the garden, the which was closed about with high walls, not having any entrance into it but one little door covered over with plates of iron, whereby he thought that he was in prison. Then did he begin to feel such great grief in his wounds, that he hoped for nothing but death. Then did he remember that he had been in the battle, but he knew not who had either brought him away, or laid him in a place so strange as this was. And no less abashed was king Cildadan to see that he was locked up in a strong Tower, compassed about with the main Sea, although that the chamber wherein he remained was most richly hanged, and he laid in a good bed. Nevertheless he was alone, and he thought that he did hear some people talking right under the vault, but he could neither perceive door, nor place where through any body might enter into his chamber. Wherefore he rose up, and put his head forth at the window, and he could see nothing but the Sea, whose waves did beat against the place wherein he remained shut up, the which was built upon the top of a most ●●eep and hard Rock, neither did he know how he was brought from the place where he was smitten down among the press of people. Notwithstanding he knew very well seeing he was in such a place that he had lost the battle, and that his knights were either all dead, or taken, but yet he comforted himself as well as he could, & laid him down again upon his bed, bewailing greatly the grief which he did feel in his wounds. Thus was Galaor lying sick on the other side, as hath been recited, who heard the little door of the garden open: which caused him to rise from his bed, as well as he could, and he perceived a fair Gentlewoman coming unto him, being very richly attired, the which did bring with her a knight so old and crooked, that it was wonder how he could be able to stand. These approaching near unto Galaor, said to him through the grates of iron, without opening the chamber door. Knight, provide for your soul's health, for we will not henceforth warrant you. Then the damosel took forth two little boxes, one of iron, and the other of silver: and showing them unto Galaor, she said unto him. Knight, the party which hath caused you to come hither, will not that you should die, before she do know whether you will accomplish her will or no, and in the mean season she will cause your wounds to be cured. Gentlewoman, answered Galaor, if she desire that I should do any thing contrary to mine honour, I had rather die. You may do, said she, as you list, although it is your choice either to live or die. Herewithal the old man opened the gate, and so soonas they were entered into the chamber, the the Gentlewoman presently gave unto him the iron box, willing him to step back, the which he did. Afterwards she said unto Galaor. My Lord, I am so sorry for your sickness, that for to save your life, I will hazard mine own death, and I will declare that which I was put in charge to do. Which is, that I should fill these two boxes, the one with poison, and the other with ointment to make you sleep, to the end that when you did awake, you might feel such extreme pain, that with the rage thereof you might cruelly end your life, but I have done clean contrary, for I have filled them with such a salve, that if you use it burr seven days together, you shall find yourself whole, sound; and able to mount on horseback. Then she rubbed his wounds with the ointment, the which was of such virtue, that at the same instant his pain was appeased, and ho felt such case, that he said unto the damosel. Fair Gentlewoman, you do bind me so greatly unto you, that if ever I come forth from hence, you may be sure that never any Gentlewoman was better recompensed by any knight, than you shall be by me, nevertheless, if you have noth the means to deliver me, I beseech you at the least, do so much that Vrganda the unknown may be advertised thereof, for I have evermore had a great confidence in her. The Gentlewoman began to laugh, and answered him. What? do you make such account of Vrganda, seeing that hitherto she hath been so careless of your wealth or woe? I know well, said he, that as she knoweth the secret thoughts of men, so is she not ignorant how much my desire is to serve her. Never care you for any other Vrganda (answered she) than me, and have only a good hope, endeavouring to hasten your health, taking unto you the courage of a valiant man, such as you have always been esteemed, seeing that you know that manhood and valour, is not only requisite at combats and dangerous encounters, but in other accidents that may suddenly happen, like as at this present the case standeth. And for the recompense of the peril that I do undertake, to heal you and deliver you from hence, I pray you grant unto me one gift, which shall neither be hurtful nor dishonurable unto you. Trust me damosel said he, you shall have of me even whatsoever you shall please, if it may well and lawfully be performed. Go to, then answered she, let this suffice you now, until it be time for me to return again to dress you, in the mean season cover you, and feign as if you slept sound, the which he did. Then the Gentlewoman called the old man, and said unto him, see how the knight sleepeth, the poison doth now work upon him. All the better, answered the old man, he which hath brought him hither, so far as I see shall be sufficiently revenged upon him, and seeing that you have so well obeyed that which you were commanded, I am content henceforth that you do come without any guard at all to visit him. But use him after this manner fifteen days together, for at that time they shall come hither, who (for the injury that he hath done unto them) shall take such satisfaction of him, as they please. Galaor heard all their talk, and he knew very well that the old man was his mortal enemy, nevertheless he had some hope in the Damosels promise, who had assured him that he should be healed in seven days, hoping (if so she did) that he might easily save himself from their hands. Hereupon the old man and the damosel departed: but she tarried not long before he did see her return with two other young virgins, exceeding fair, who brought victuals unto Galaor, and caused him to eat. This done the damosel commanded the other two to keep him company, and to read before him some pleasant Histories, to keep him from sleeping in the day time, so that Gala●● being greatly comforted by the Damosels kind entertainment, was thoroughly assured that she would help him as she had promised, and so shutting the ga●●, she departed & left the two young Gentlewomen discoursing with him. far otherwise did it happen unto king Cildadan, who being shut up within a Tower, and laid upon his bed, did see a door of stone to open (the which was close fastened in the wall, that it seemed as if it had been the wall itself) by the which there entered in a gentlewoman of middle age, accompanied with two armed knights, the which came close to his bed side. The King saluted them, but they answered not, the gentlewoman lifted up the covering that he had upon, and looking upon his wounds, she dressed them, afterwards she gave him somewhat to 〈◊〉, & returned both she and the knights the same way they came, not once speaking unto him. When the king beheld their manner of behaviour, he believed that he was in the prison of such a one where his life was in no great safety, nevertheless he took as good comfort unto him as he could, not being able otherwise to remedy his mishap. But the gentlewoman that looked unto Galaor seeing that it was time to dress him went unto him, and asked him how he fared. Passing well answered Galaor, & I hope (seeing the good beginning of my am●…men) that I may be healed within the time that you have promised. There is no doubt there of said she, therefore I will that you promise me as you are a loyal knight, not to depart from hence without ●●y leave, otherwise your life may be in peril of death. Galaor did sw●… unto her so to do, beseeching her most instantly to tell him how she was called. But she answered him. How now Galaor, do you not yet know my name? Truly now I am greatly deceived▪ considering the services that heretofore I have done for you, when you are so forgetful of me? I am called, The wise among the wisest: saying so, she went forth of the chamber feigning to be very angry, and pulled the door rudely after her. Wherewith Galaor remained more pensive than before, and he remembered him of the fair sword that Vrgande had given unto him, when his brother Amadis made him knight, whereby he suspected that it was she herself, nevertheless, he was in some doubt, because that when he saw her first, she seemed to be old and crooked, and this was young, fair, and in good liking. And as he was in this study not being able to sleep, he turned his head toward the place, where the young Gentlewomen were accustomed to sit in keeping him company, but in stead of them he perceived Gasavel his esquire, and 〈◊〉 the Dwarf of Amadis: at which he was no less abashed then joyful, and he called them because that they slept. Who at their awaking, seeing their Master, they became no less amazed than he, and they rose up doing their duty unto him, and he demanded how they were come thither, who answered, that Amadis, Flor●stan and Agraies, had commanded them to follow him. They further declared unto him, in what estate the Damosels took him up, for which cause Amadis seeing in what extremity you remained, permitted them to carry you away, together with King Cildadan. What do you say▪ said Galaor, was Amadis in 〈◊〉 assembly? My Lord, said 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 was he that was called 〈…〉 Forl●rne, by whose streng●● 〈◊〉 courage the battle was 〈◊〉. Then he recited unto him the ●…ner how he delivered the King▪ and killed Ma●…, and 〈◊〉 ●●en he made himself known, crying Gaul with a loud voice. Thou ●…lest me wonders, said Galaor, but by my faith, he was too blame to hide himself from me. This was the estate wherein Galaor and Citd●dan remained, who in few days felt so great ease of their wounds, that they began to walk about the chamber. Wherefore ●gande (in whose power they remained in her unknown Island) made herself known unto them, saying ●…to them. That the fear 〈◊〉 she had put them, had been the means to effect their health the sooner, otherwise they had 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 in danger of their lives. After●… she commanded her two 〈◊〉 to be fetched to keep them company, which were daughters unto King Fal●●gris, 〈◊〉 unto King Lis●art, who ha●…otten upon them the sister of ●…da, one of them was called 〈◊〉 (wh●… Galaor did shortly after beget with child of a son, that was named Talanqua, and afterwards proved a valiant Knight) and the other was called Solisa, who also had by 〈◊〉 Cildadan Ma●… the 〈◊〉. And these two Knights 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 these two Damosels, till 〈◊〉 set them at liberty, 〈◊〉 here●… 〈◊〉 shall be declared unto you.  
In the mean time King 〈◊〉, Amadis, and the other Knights ●…ed at Gonata, and after they 〈◊〉 healed of their wounds, they determined to go visit the 〈◊〉 which s●●ied for them in the 〈◊〉 of F●●usa, of whom they were received with great joy. But during their abode there, as Amadis talked with Queen Bri●… (in the company of Oriana) she said unto him. My Lord, I assure you I was so sorrowful when it was told me that you were lost, that I can in no sort express unto you the displeasure that I received therewith, and at the last seeing that you stayed so long before you returned, I determined to come unto this Court, with a hundred of my Knights, to cause the search of you to begin, according to the appointment of my Lords your brethren. Nevertheless by means of the battle which the King had appointed with King Cildadan, my enterprise was stayed and that in a good hour, seeing that it pleased God so soon to bring you home again. Therefore advise you now (if it please you) what you will that I shall do for you, for I will obey you all my life long. Madame, answered Amadis, if you were in any perplexity for me, you had great reason▪ for I am well assured, that there is ●…ight in the world more ready to do you service then is Amadis of Gaul. But seeing that it pleaseth you to refer all your affairs upon me▪ I pray you to ●arry y●● in this Court eight or ten days longer, until we may hear some news from my brother ●ala●r, in the mean time you shall have the pastime of a Combat, which my brother Fl●… must perform against La●din, and afterwards I will conduct you home into your Country, and from thence I will take my way unto the Firmeisland, where I must needs be▪ I will do, said Briola●ia whatsoever it shall please you, provided that you do tell unto us the wonders and 〈…〉. And 〈…〉 have 〈◊〉 him, 〈◊〉 him by the hand, and 〈◊〉 him. My Lord 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 somewhat to do, 〈…〉 leave you in peace▪ bef●… 〈◊〉 told us something. In 〈◊〉 Ladies, answered he, 〈◊〉 take in hand to 〈…〉 of the whole, y●● 〈◊〉 it impossible: neuerthel●… truly tell you that the 〈◊〉 chamber is the most fair 〈◊〉 in all the world, and 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 gained by one of you two▪ 〈◊〉 believe that so long as we 〈…〉 ver may any other 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 therein. Bri●lania 〈◊〉 while without answering 〈◊〉 the end she said unto Am●… I do not think that I may 〈◊〉 to finish such an adue●… notwithstanding (such as 〈…〉 were not to be reputed 〈◊〉 ●●e, I would willingly 〈…〉 thereof. Madame, answ●… is not to be counted a 〈◊〉 on, to ●●ie that wherein 〈…〉 have failed until this pre●… cause they were not fair 〈◊〉 and you which are one of 〈◊〉 excellent creatures in 〈◊〉 should do so much 〈…〉 far this singularity, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 might turn you 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 blame, in not performing 〈◊〉 devour. Amadis did 〈…〉 ceile by her counte●… 〈◊〉 ana was not greatly pl●… 〈◊〉 this discourse, and al●… 〈◊〉 thought that he had said 〈◊〉 but what might red●… 〈◊〉 honour, yet did it greedy 〈◊〉 that he had spoken so 〈…〉 had seen the old image 〈◊〉 nesa, and he knew very 〈…〉 olania was inno●… 〈◊〉 her in beauty, therefore 〈◊〉 not attain unto that glory, the which he made no doubt at all in Oriana. But Oriana judged far otherwise, for she imagined that there was not any thing in the world that Briola●ia might not accomplish, if by beauty it might be conquered, and dissembling before her the malice th●● she now had conceived against her, she prayed her that if she entered into the forbidden chamber, that she would vouchsafe to send her news thereof. Then she rose up, and went to seek out Mabila, whom when she had found, she recited all the conference that had passed betwixt Amadis and ●…ia, (in her presence) saying unto her. By my faith your Cousin doth very often give me the like alarms, although he be assured that I take no pleasure at all in any thing, but only in that wherein I may best please and obey him, without respect of mine honour, fear of God, or obedience to my parents. But he knoweth that he hath full power over me, which causeth him now to despise me, for the which I may only blame that 〈◊〉 familiarity which I have showed unto him, thinking that I had done all for the best. In uttering these her supposed wrongs, abundance of rears fell from her eyes, which Mabila perceiving (as being very discreet) she bethought her of a present Antidote to expel this poison. And therefore feigning to be exceeding angry, with the injury that Oriana offered unto Amadis, she answered her very sharply and shrewdly: Madam, I do greatly wonder at you, and your manner of behaviour, for so soon as one mischief hath forsaken you, another doth presently follow you, and you ought (methinks) to take better regard unto that which you say of my to 〈◊〉, and not to be persuaded 〈◊〉 he hath spoken either one thing or another to anger you, seeing that you may be assured that 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 ●…ed to offer you any offence, 〈◊〉 in word or deed. And 〈◊〉 ●●fficient witness you have, in the proofs & trial that he hath made, as well in your presence as in your absence, but I see well what your meaning is, you would have she know (being weary of my company) that you would put me away under the colour that my cofin is so wholly yours, abusing yourself with the bondage wherein he is subjecteth unto you. Nevertheless, when you shall have for saken me, it will be no great matter, so that your Amadis (for yours may I call him) be not worse used. For you know very well and I also, that the least displeasure he shall take at your grief, will be sufficient to cause his death, therefore ●maruaile what pleasure you take to torment him so often, he adventuring himself for you as much as is possible to be done for any other Lady li●ing. Do you not consider, that Ap●… willed the proof of the forbidden chamber should be common to all the world? What a great error should my Cousin then commit, to dissuade 〈◊〉 that she should not do as much as others? Truly I believe that neither you nor she are yet fair enough to perform that, which all the fairest during these hundred years could never obtain. Therefore I am thoroughly a●…d, that this new jealousy proceedeth not from any fault which he hath committed, whose mind is wholly addicted to obey you. Moreover his misfortune hath so much 〈◊〉 him, that to please you he hath not only forgotten himself, (but also regarded none but you) he hath quite disdained all his kindred, and hath accounted them as mere strangers, not knowing them at all, nor any other but you whom he adoreth as his God, and yet you would by your folly procure his overthrow. Ay me, the dangers and evident peril wherein he and his have, oftentimes been brought unto for your sake, as well against Arcalaus as in this last battle, are very ill acknowledged by you, seeing that now in satisfaction thereof, you desire the destruction of the chief and principallest of my kindred. Is this the favour and recompense for the services that I have done unto you? Truly my hope is now greatly deceived, seeing before mine eyes, a complot is laid for the ruin and fall of a wight whom I do most love in the world, and he that is yours more than his own, notwithstanding (if it please God) it shall not be so, nor shall such a misfortune happen so near unto me. For I will entreat my brother Agraies and my Uncle Galuanes to carry me into Scotland, whereby they shall do me a great pleasure to take me away from your company who are so ungrateful. Herewithal she wept so extremely, as though she would have drowned herself with tears. Alas said she God grant that the cruelty which you commit against your Amadis, light not upon your own head, to satisfy all his kindred, who shall not lose so much (in his lack) as you alone shall do, although it should be the greatest misfortune that could happen unto us. When Oriana did hear Mabila speak in such choler, her heart was so overcharged, that her speech ●●iled until she had a little while rested her, when bursting out into rears, she mainly cried 〈◊〉, 〈◊〉 me poor soul, above all ●…late and sorrowful women, must wretched: who would ever 〈◊〉 imagined this which y●●● h●…e now made manifest unto me, could ever have proceeded 〈◊〉 of your heart? Alas I ●…sed my secrets unto you (h●…g about me no other worthy to ●…derstand my sorrows) to have counsel & comfort at your 〈◊〉, but you discomfort me, and 〈◊〉 me worse than I have deserved, reputing me, to be far other●… than I am, or ever shall be so long as breath remaineth within my sorrowful heart, which 〈◊〉 me to presume that 〈…〉 my misfortune hath broug●… on me this unhappy usage, seeing that you have taken in 〈…〉 that which I did tell yo●… the best. And let God never help me if I did think days of my life upon that wherewith yo● 〈◊〉 blame and accuse me, for I 〈◊〉 so great confidence in your cozen, that I study upon n●…g so much, as how to content him: yet thus much I must tell you, that I had rather die then any other 〈◊〉 myself, should gain the honour of the forbidden Chamber. judge you then what grief it would be to me if Briolania (who goeth before to make proof thereof) should accomplish it, notwithstanding my good cozen & 〈◊〉 friend, I pray you to pardon 〈◊〉, and (if it please you) def●… not to advise me what you think is 〈◊〉 for me to do. For your cozen might be very angry if he did know that which I have 〈…〉 of him. Madame, answered Mabila, seeing you acknowledge your fault, you must be better advised hereafter. You have had experience enough, by that which is past, what inconvenience may happen upon so light occasions, take heed henceforth then, how you commit the like errors. Thus were these two Ladies reconciled together as before, nevertheless shortly after Mabila came unto Amadis, unto whom she declared all the talk that Oriana had with her, reproving him sharply for that which he had said to Briolania before her, knowing that already she had been suspicious of them both. Therefore my good cozen said Mabila, endeavour henceforth not to give her any farther occasion to use you ill, speaking hereafter more discreetly than you have done, especially before my Lady, for it is a very hard matter wholly to banish and extinguish jealousy from a woman after it is much rooted in her mind, and had it not been for my sharp answer unto her, by my faith she had passed the bounds of reason. Sweet cozen answered Amadis, I do much marvel at the fantasy of my Lady, but yet I do give you exceeding great thanks, for the counsel that you give unto me, although I do swear unto you that whatsoever I did speak, I thought was wholly for her advantage. And I will tell you how every one knoweth that Briolania is reputed one of the faired Ladies in the world, so as one would think her sufficient to enter into the forbidden chamber, but this thought is false: for I have seen the Image of Grimanesa, unto whose beauty Briolania in no sort comes near, wherefore it is most sure that she shall never attain to this honour, the which my Lady shall obtain without any difficulty. Nevertheless if it were first before Briolania had made her try all therein, one might say afterwards, If she had begun before Oriana, that then she had first achieved the adventure: by means whereof I was so bold (in the presence of my Lady) to give her that counsel which you have heard, Mabila liked well this excuse of Amadis, and told Oriana thereof, who did greatly repent her that she had spoken so much, fearing lest Amadis would have been offended with her, and to make amend: for this fault which she had committed, she sent him word by Mabila, that he should come to see her in her lodging, where she and Briolania stayed for him, the which he did. At his coming the Ladies took him by the hand, and made him fit between them, than they prayed him to tell them the truth of that which they would demand of him, whereunto he ●discōended. Tell us than said Oriana, what is the Lady that gained the kerchief with the flowers, when you conquered the burning sword? Amadis perceived well that he was not only overtaken, but also constrained to tell the truth, for which cause he answered Oriana: In faith Madam I know no more what she was than you do, although I remained in her company six days together. But thus much did I see in her, that she had the fairest hair that any Lady or damosel could possibly have, and she is besides most beautiful, and of a most excellent grace, for the rest you know as much as I do. By my faith said Oriana, if she got the kerchief with great honour, it had been like afterward to have cost her very dear as it was told me, for without your assistance Arcalaus the enchanter and his Nephew Lindoraq had taken it from her, & also done her some villainy. It was not he answered Briolania (if he be Amadis) but another who was called the Fair Forlorn, from whom we must not derogate the honour to attribute it unto another. And although I am greatly bound unto Amadis, yet will I not let to speak the truth of the Fair Forlorn, because if the one have surmounted Apolidon in prowess by winning of the Firmeisland, the same being unto him an exceeding great reputation, so in like sort was the other worthy of no less praise, who in one only day overthrew ten of the best knights in Great Britain, and slew the most redoubted Giant Famongomad, and Basigant his son: if Amadis did pass under the Arch of loyal lovers, in whose favour the Images of copper did sound a more melodious tune, than it did for any other that ever proved the same adventure, thereby manifesting his loyalty, it seemeth in like sort that the Fair Forlorn had as great an advantage in gaining the the burning sword, the which for the space of threescore years no other could draw forth of his scabbard. Therefore Madam, it is not reason to take away the honour from the Fair Forlorn, and without desert to give it unto Amadis, seeing that both in prowess and loyalty they may (as I think) equal one another. And as they were in these pleasant discourses, a damosel came and told Amadis that the King asked for him, because that Don Quedragant and Landin his Nephew were before him to acquit them of the promise that they had made by the means whereof Amadis was constrained to leave the Lady, and to go unto the Court. By the way he met with Bruneo and Branfil, who followed him, & they found that Quedragant had begun his speech unto the King, saying: It may please your Majesty, I have stayed here for Amadis of Gaul, according to the covenant that I made with the Fair Forlorn, and now that he is in the Court I will discharge me of my promise. True it is that by force of arms, I was constrained to grant unto the Fair Forlorn that I should not depart from your company, until Amadis were returned, and then he being come before your highness, I should cease all quarrels that I had enterprised against him, for the death of king Abies of Ireland my brother, and never after to demand any thing at his hands, therefore and in like sort that I should never hereafter bear arms against your Majesty, or any of yours. Which matter hath since grieved me more than one would think, because I could not be present at the battle, the which you had undertaken against king Cildadan and his followers, of the number of whom I thought to have been, but fortune was so contrary that my intent was turned far otherwise than I had purposed, for the hate which I did bear unto Amadis, is converted into a most great amity, the which I am determined to hold inviolable with him, if he think it good being assured that I was overcome by him, under the name of the Fair Forlorn, the which he had taken because he would not be known. So that I do manifestly perceive that fortune is wholly determined to advance him, as the the force which he did show in this last battle can sufficiently witness, the honour whereof ought wholly to be yielded unto him and to no other. For this cause it may please your Majesty, seeing my Lord Amadis is here present, that first you will discharge me of that which I have promised unto him under a contrary name, and as for him I remit all the evil will that I did bear unto him, for the death of my late deceased brother king Abies, and I do further entreat him to accept me for his companion and perpetual friend. Sir Quedragant answered the King, you speak like a prudent and wise knight, for what prowess or courage soever a Gentleman hath, if he be not governed by counsel & reason, he is not worthy that any man should make account of him. You are sufficiently known for one of the best knights in the world, yet you may be assured that the fellowship which you demand of Amadis shall in no sort diminish your praise & renown, you two continuing in mutual amity together: and you may believe that he will be very glad to accept of the offer which you do make unto him. Is it not true gentle friend? said the King unto Amadis. If it like your Majesty answered he, Quedragant is so worthy a knight that his fame is spread abroad in many places, and seeing that it pleaseth him to choose me for his consort, I do thankfully accept his kind offer. Herewithal they embraced, and so long did their friendship thenceforth continue, that it was never separated but by death. At the same time was Florestan & Landin before the King, purchasing their leave to enter into the field, according to their appointed agreement (a good while before) in maintenance of Amadis his quarrel against Quedragant: but when they saw them friends their combat was finished, and their hatred converted into amity, wherewith Landin was exceeding glad, for he had already proved Florestan in the journey against king Cildadan, and seen his valour and prowess.  
Thus were these quarrels ended, & how much the Court had here-tofore been troubled, by so much was the joy and pastime thereof increased, nevertheless the King having not forgotten the misery wherein king Arban of North-wales and Angriota de Estravaux remained, (after he had some few days stayed with the Ladies) he undertook their deliverance, and the better to effect the same, he determined to pass into the Isle of Mongaza, to set them at liberty, wherewith he made his knights acquainted. Then Amadis answered him, your Majesty doth know that my brother Galaor hath been lost in your service, therefore I beseech you to excuse me from accompanying your grace in this voyage, for if God please my cousins and I will go seek him as it is reason, and so soon as we have found him, I assure your Majesty that incontinently we will follow unto that place where we shall hear your grace abideth. Friend Amadis, answered the King, I promise you of my faith, that I myself would willingly accompany you, so sorry am I for Galaor: but you know the present affairs that I have, whereby I am in truth to be excused, yet nevertheless I am well pleased with your departure, both when you list, and with such company as you like. Herewithal there rose up more than a hundred of the most approved knights, who did all swear the search of Galaor. For said they, hardly may we undertake a worthier or more strange adventure: & they prevailed with the King so much that they got leave to depart the next morning.   

CHAP. XVIII.  
How the evening ensuing, the King being risen from the table, walking about the galleries of his Palace, he beheld two great fires upon the Sea, that came directly towards the City.  
NOw it happened the same day after the King had supped, as he walked along a gallery, being almost bedtime, he beheld two strange fires upon the Sea, which came with great swiftness directly towards the City. Wherewith he was greatly amazed, because he thought it very difficult that water and fire should continue together, especially when he beheld in the midst of these fires, a galley, at the mast whereof were many great burning torches, so that one would have judged the vessel had been all on fire. This wonder did astonish the people so much that in a manner they came all forth of the City, presuming that seeing the Sea was not able to quench this fire, it was impossible to defend the City from being burnt to ashes, if the same once took hold thereof, wherefore the King as fearful as the rest mounted upon his horse, and came forth with them upon the sands. And as he came near the water side, he did see that the most part of all the knights were already arrived, and amongst the rest was Amadis, evil, and Guillan, who were at that time so near the galley, which was hard at shore, that he thought it impossible for them to escape from the fire thereof. Hereupon he set spurs to his horse, because he took on exceedingly with the noise that was made, and whether he would or no he brought him close to the galley side: upon the which shortly after he saw a cloth lifted up which covered it, and a damosel appeared clothed in white silk, that held a small Coser of gold in her hand, which she opened, than she took out of it a burning taper which she cast into the Sea, and presently the two great fires vanished away so suddenly, that it was not perceived what was become of them. Wherewith all the people were marvelous glad, seeing that they were out of danger, for there remained no more light than that of the torches, which burned upon the mast of the galley, with the brightness whereof all the shore received light. Then the galley was plainly perceived which was decked with many garlands of flowers, & instruments began to sound very sweetly. Herewithal there appeared upon the poop twelve Damosels richly appareled, every one of them having a chaplet of roses upon their head, and a rod of gold in their hands. And she marched forth first of all that had thrown the raper into the Sea, who coming a shore did her duty unto the King, and he received her very kindly, saying unto her: Madam in satisfaction of the fear wherewith your fire affrighted us, tell us if y●… please who you are, although we already surmise that we know you well enough. Your Majesty answered she, is of such a valiant courage, that it is impossible to terrify you with so small a thing, yet the fires which you have seen were ordained to no other end but for the safety of my women and me when we are determined to go by Sea. For the rest if you think me to be Vrganda the unknown, your thought is true, and I am expressly come into these parts to visit you, as the best Prince in the earth, and the Queen also, who is one of the wisest Ladies that liveth. Then she called Amadis saying unto him. My Lord Amadis come near and I will tell you, (to ease you of the travail that you should have in seeking of Galaor) that your brother is well, and so thoroughly healed, that you shall see him here very shortly, therefore leave off your determined search of him, for he is in such a place as all the men in the world can never find him. Madam answered Amadis, when he was demanded of me by the Damosels that carried him away, I imagined that he should be saved by you, and that no other but Vrganda would have undertaken such an enterprise, which hath ever since put me in good hope, without the which I think I had been dead. For this one thing I am sure of, that there is no knight in the world more bound to Lady or gentle woman than I am to you, for the which I am not able to yield you such co●…gne thanks as I do owe, and you deserve, but you know very well, that Amadis his life shall never be spared to ●o you service. Madam said the king, will it please you to come an 〈◊〉 you in my 〈◊〉. Yo●● Majesty answered Vrganda shall pardon me, for I will 〈…〉 this night in my galley, and tomorrow I will do whatsoever it shall please you, but Amadis, Agraies, Brunco, and Guillan shall keep me company, because I know they are as amorous as myself, and their company will be a means to dri●e away all melancholy. Do what you will said the King, for you shall be obeyed. Then he caused the people to return unto the C●…y, and he himself (bidding Vrganda good night) departed, lea●…ng for 〈◊〉 guard a number of archers upon the sands: the next morning the Queen sent unto Vrganda twelve of her own hackneys richly trapped, upon the which she and he women entered into the City, and Vrganda ●ode in the midst of the four knights which she had overnigh detained to keep her company. They entertained her with diverse discourses by the way, wherein she took so great pleasure that she said unto them, Believe me it would be a long time before I should be weary of so good company as this of yours is: for I assure you that I find you all four so agreeable to my nature, that you are particularly even all one with myself, for 〈◊〉 I be in love, you are no less, holding Ladies in most great estimation. And this said Vrganda, because that she languished with extreme love which she did be are unto the fair Knight, of whom in our first book we have mentioned unto you. Their conference was no sooner ended, when they approached near unto the Palace, but the King who there had stayed, came forth to meet them, and as he embraced Vrganda (bidding her heartily welcome) she looked round about her upon the company, and beheld a great number of knights, in each place. Whereupon she said, me thinks your Majesty is now royally accompanied, not only for the multitude of great personages that are with you, but especially for the love which I am sure they do bear unto you, for which you ought greatly to praise God. For the Prince that is beloved of his subjects, may be sure to maintain his estate in great safety, therefore your Majesty must endeavour to entertain and use them Kingly, that your fortune (which hitherto hath favoured you) do not forsake you if you do otherwise: and above all things take heed of false reports, seeing that it is the very poison and ruin of such Princes as give credit unto them. And as the King would have brought her to her chamber, she said unto him: may it please your Majesty that I may first go and do my duty to the Queen? I with all my heart gentle Lady answered he, I am sure that she will be most glad to see you, as she that hath greatly desired to honour and please you. Herewithal he conducted her where the Ladies were, and so soon as the Queen did see her, she rose up and kissed her, saying, that she was exceeding welcome: then she made her sit down between Oriana & Briolania, whom Vrganda had never yet seen: and she found that Briolania was the fairest Lady in they world, if Oriana by her excellency had 〈◊〉 blemished her beauty, and to sp●… truth there was great diff●… between them two. Then Vr●…da said unto the Queen: Madam, I do now find th●● 〈◊〉 which I have ever heard 〈◊〉 Which is, that the King was 〈◊〉 accompanied with worthy 〈◊〉 than any other Christian Prince, and you also attended upon by the fairest Ladies on the earth, for he which conquered the Firm-Island (being a better knight than Apolidon) & the famous victory which so lately hath been obtay●●● against King Cildadan, by the effusion of the blood of so many Giants as there died, are su●… witnesses of the one, and I am sure (to prove the other) it will easily be granted unto me, th●… the firmament it is not po●… find fairer Ladies than th●… here, pointing to Oriana and ●riolania: but if your Court hath this pre-eminence, it is yet ho●… for one thing and far more ●…commendable, which is the loyalty wherein love is there maintained, as well to be seen by the proof of the burning sword, and the kerchief beset with flowers, which adventure was perfor●●● in your presence. When Ori●… heard her go so far in her 〈◊〉, her heart began to tremble, and she became sorry and pensi●●●…ring lest Vrganda would spe●●● more, in disclosing the secrecy between Amadis and her. B●● Amadis who was present, knowing the wisdom of her that knew all things, and the doubt of Ori●…, he approached unto her, whispering thus in her care, I aff●●● 〈◊〉 Madam, that Vrganda is ou●● discreet to speak any thing ●…ly or unadvisedly. And therewithal he turned unto the Queen, saying unto her, Madam, your grace may demand (if it please you) of Vrganda what she was that gained the kerchief. I pray you said the Queen, tell us that. By my faith answered Vrganda, there is great cause why Amadis should know better what she was than I, for she followed him, and afterwards he delivered her from the hands of Arcalaus the enchanter, and from Lindoraq his Nephew, not without great danger of his person. Madam said Amadis, it was impossible that I should either know her or myself, better than you did, seeing that you know that she desiring to remain unknown would never uncover her face before me, yet from you nothing may be so well concealed, that is not at your pleasure revealed. Truly answered Vrganda, for your sake I will presently declare unto you as much as I know. The damosel (whose loyalty is so known) is no maid, for she is a fair wife, above all others most excellent: and for the same cause did she conquer the kerchief so renowned, especially through the constant love which she did bear unto her Lord. She is by birth, of the King's country, by her Mother an Alien, and her continual abiding is in this Realm, where she liveth so abundantly, that if she wanteth any thing, it is only because she can not (at all times when she pleaseth) enjoy him whom she loveth better than her 〈◊〉, further shall you not know what she is by me. Oriana who feeling herself touched by Vrganda, was not well cotented, (doubting lest she should have proceeded further) until she● held her peace, and that the Queen answered: truly gentle ●adie you 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 c●nuingly deciphered her 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, that there is 〈◊〉 any 〈◊〉, in 〈◊〉 opinion, the 〈◊〉 for 〈◊〉 ●●owledge, saving only that 〈◊〉 did think her a maid, and yo●… us that she is a wife. A 〈◊〉 will come said she, that you shall know her better. Here withal the King who was minded, to feast Vrg●…, came to seek her, 〈◊〉 he might lead her to dinner: he made her sit close beside him, & afterwards they spent the rest of the day in sporting & making good 〈…〉, until it was time to go to ●●st. Then Vrganda came unto the Queen, to 〈◊〉 her that she would be pleased to suffer her to lie in Oriana her chamber, the which she willingly did grant unto 〈◊〉. Nevertheless said the Queen, I fear that her youthful be●… will somewhat 〈◊〉 you. In ●aith Madam answered she, 〈◊〉 beauty shall be more hurtful 〈◊〉 many good knighes, whose 〈◊〉 esse cannot be so great as th●● 〈◊〉 may defend them from sundry perils, which they are likely 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 into for her love, ●or that the●● dea●●s will hardly be eschewed, 〈◊〉 they do not wisely pr●…. The Queen could 〈◊〉 refrains 〈◊〉 laughter, and said unto Vrg●●da. Hitherto she may be p●do●●d 〈◊〉 any such danger that she hath 〈◊〉 yet brought those unto of 〈◊〉 you speak: and therefore for 〈◊〉 time I bid you good ●…ght. Here-upon the Queen departed, 〈◊〉 Vrganda was brought unto the Princess her lodging, where sh●● found the Q●… 〈◊〉, 〈◊〉 Mabila, that 〈◊〉 ●er comp●…, with whom 〈◊〉 ●●sco ●…ed so long of diverse 〈…〉 overcome of ●●eep, they 〈…〉 strained to lay them down. Now they were all four lodged in one chamber together, notwithstanding Vrganda perceiving Briolania and Mabila to be fast asleep, and Oriana awake, she said unto her, Madam, if you now do not take your rest for thinking upon him, that day and night doth wake for your love, your quiet and his are both alike. I know not what you mean answered Oriana, but sure I am, that love never hindered me from sleep. Vrganda knew very well that she made her this answer, because she would not that Briolania should understand the love betwixt her and Amadis, wherefore she said unto her: assure you that I am so careful that your secrets be not disclosed, as I will not offend you with any thing that I speak, for I know what is needful for you better than yourself. Madam answered Oriana, you may waken the Gentlewomen that are in this chamber. Let me alone for that said Vrganda, I will rid you strait of this fear. Therewithal she took forth a book which was so little one might have covered it with his hand, and after she had read therein a little while, she said unto Oriana, let this sufsice you, that now we may speak in safety, for what noise soever we make, they shall not stir, until I awake them, and if any do enter into this chamber, they shall fall down upon the flower in as sound a sleep as they, and hark how they snort already. hereat Oriana began to laugh, and rising forth of her bed she came unto Mabila and Briolania, whose arms she pulled very rudely, but for all that ever she could do, they stirred no more than a stone, will you yet see said Vrganda the pastime of those that shall com●… threshold of your 〈…〉 call the damosel of 〈…〉 who is in this war●… viana did. And as 〈…〉 had set her foot in the 〈…〉 she fell down upon the 〈…〉 began to sleep and 〈…〉 sound then either M●… 〈…〉 olania. Wherefore Oriana laid her down by V●… and said unto her: Maadame, 〈…〉 that you know so much 〈…〉 fairs, I beseech you to 〈…〉 what must happen unto 〈…〉 answered Vrganda, do you 〈…〉 sooner to escape that which 〈…〉 destined unto you by be●… tised thereof aforehand? 〈…〉 believe that it is not in the 〈…〉 of any mortal man to 〈…〉 which God hath app●… him, be it good or 〈…〉 it be by his free will 〈…〉 verthelesse since you 〈…〉 defy to know your 〈…〉 content, afterwards m●… profit thereof as you c●… now then, at such time 〈…〉 vinesse shall be at th●… many good knight's sh●… for your love. Then the 〈…〉 on accompanied with 〈…〉 shall come forth of his 〈…〉 with his loud roaring 〈…〉 in such sort a●… shall have you in keep●… maugre all their source 〈…〉 remain in the paws o●… all beast, who shall t●… your head th●… shall no more be yours●… wards this fami●… your body in his power, 〈…〉 you into his cave, wh●… feed in such sort, as 〈…〉 hunger shall be slaked. 〈…〉 my daughter take 〈…〉 do, for this which I 〈…〉 you shall without doubt come to pass. By my faith answered Oriana, I could have been well content to have forborn this curiosity, for the sorrowful end that is prepared for me doth trouble all my spirits. Fair Lady, said Vrganda, another time be less curious to understand that which is beyond your capacity: nevertheless, oftenrimes such things as are mystical and fearful, do for the most part turn into joy, pleasure, and profit, therefore be not you discomforted in any sort, seeing that you are daughter unto the best king, & most virtuous Queen that liveth upon the earth, being endued with such excellent beauty, that your renown is spread over all countries, and moreover you are beloved of him, who is honoured and esteemed more than any other Knight. You know as well as I that he loveth you, by the experience not only of that which hath been told you, and you have made known unto him, but also by the adventures which he hath brought to pass in your presence: therefore you ought to think yourself happy above all those that are best beloved, being mistress of him, that deserveth (by his chivalry) to be Lord of all the world. Now it is time to wake the Ladies, & end our discourse. Herewithal she began to read again in her book, and at that instant the Ladies that were asleep, began to breath as if they had been overwearied, and shortly after they rose up, but when the damosel of Denmark perceived, that she was laid in such sort naked in the midst of the chamber, there was never woman more amazed than she, the which when Oriana perceived, she demanded (smiling to herself) if she were come thither to seek fresh air. By my faith Madam, answered she, I know neither who brought me hither, nor can I remember how I came hither. Whereat they all began to laugh: and after they were ready they went unto the King's lodging, whom they found together with the Queen in the church: and so soon as service was ended, the King came vato Vrganda, and bid her good morrow, and she after her duty done unto his Majesty, said, that if it were his pleasure to cause the Knights and Ladies in his Court to assemble together, that before her departure (which should be very shortly) she would declare something before them that should happen unto him, hereupon the King appointed a large hall to be made ready, in the which the next morning a great number of Lords and Ladies were come. Then Vrganda being in the midst of them all, addressing her speech unto the King, she said unto him. Seeing that your Majesty hath kept the letters which I did write unto you and Galaor, presently after the Fair Forlorn had obtained the burning sword, and the damosel she kencheife with flowers, it may please you now to cause them to be read, that every one may plainly know that I am not ignorant of things before they happen. Hereupon he sent for them, and they were read before all the assistance, whereby it plainly appeared that she had wholly foretold the manner of the battle, even as it happened out, and they all greatly wondered thereat, especially at the stout heart of the King, that would be in a battle so dangerous, when he was before hand threantned so rigorously by his letter. In like sort was it certainly known that the Fair Forlorn had been the cause of the victory, by the three blows that he gave. The first when he cast King Cildadan at Galaors feet, the second in kill Sarmadan the Leonnois, and the third when he succoured the king, whom the stout Mandafabul of the virmillion tower did carry unto his ships, whose arm he cut off close by the elbow, which was the cause of his present death. And in like sort that which she had said of Galaor was come to pass, for his head was certainly at the mercy of the Fair Forlorue, at that time when the Damosels demanded to carry him away. But now, said Vrganda, I will tell you in order that which must happen, great contention shall arise between the mighty serpent & the strong Lion, which shall be aided by many cruel beasts, they shall come with such fury, that a great numder of them shall suffer most cruel death. The subtle Roman fox shall be wounded with the claws of the strong Lion, and his skin shall be cruelly torn, wherewith the mighty serpent shall be brought into wonderful perplexity. In this time the me●ke sheep covered with black wool, shall come into the midst of them, who by his great humility and pitiful bleat, shall pacify the pride and fierceness of their courages, causing them to depart one from the other, but presently the starved wolves shall descend from the steep mountains against the mighty serpent, who being by them put to fight with a great part of his train, shall be closed up in one of his dens. The tender licorne putting his mouth to the ear of the fierce Lion, shall awake him out of his sound sleep with his loud cry, making him afterwards to take part of his beasts, with the which he shall speedily go to the succour of the mighty serpent, whom they shall find so bitten and wounded by these starved wolves, that his blood shall be abundantly shed upon the earth, at the same time shall he be delivered from the teeth of the wolves, and they be cut in pieces. Then the life of the mighty serpent being restored (leaving within his den all the poison of his entrails) he shall be contented to put himself between the claws of the strong Lion, and the white hind, who in the dreadful Forest did lift up her grieves to Heaven, shall be taken from thence and called home again. Wherefore noble King, may it please your Majesty to cause this to be written, which before all this company I have uttered, for there is no doubt but all this shall come to pass. I will so do, answered he, seeing it pleaseth you, but I believe there is not any of us that at the present understands this prophesy. Assure you, said she, that a time will come when it shall be manifested unto all of you. So saying she cast her eyes upon Amadis, whom she perceived to be marvelous pensive, and said unto him. My Lord Amadis, you muse upon that which cannot avail you, wherefore expel this fancy from your mind, and hearken unto a match that you shall make, wherein you shall get little gain. At such time as you shall be wounded to death in the defence of another's life, the smart being yours, and the profit his, the recompense that you shall reap thereby, shall be a wonderful discontent, and a banishnsent from that whereunto you shall most desire to approach. Then shall your good rich and sharp Sword so bruise your bones, and in so many places wound your flesh, that with the loss of your blood you shall become very feeble, and moreover you shall be so sharply pursued, that if half the world were yours, you would give it, that your sword were cast into the bottom of some deep lake, from whence it could never be taken forth again, therefore bethink you of your destiny, which shall be such as I have foretold you. Amadis seeing that every one had their eyes fixed upon him, looked up with a Imiling countenance and answered Vrganda, Madam, by the things that are already come to pass whereof you foretold us, we may well credit and believe that which now you tell us, and knowing that I am mortal, I am very sure that my life shall not be prolonged one minute longer than it pleaseth God, and therefore whilst I may, I will endeavour to gain some reputation, rather than seek to conserve my life, Notwithstanding if any peril were to be doubted, I should have more occasion to fear those that do hourly happen unto me, than such as are hidden & yet to come. I know well said Vrganda that it is more easy to draw the Sea dry, then affright your undaunted and magnanimous courage with any further dread of danger. And because if it please your Majesty (said she to the king) that I must presently take my leave of you, remember I beseech you what I have advertised you of, before this great and honourable company, as she that desireth the honour and profit of your Majesty, and stop your ears henceforth from those, whose words you shall know to be unjust and perverse. Herewith all she arose from her place and all the company in like fort, and shortly after she took leave of the King, and of the rest of his court, which done she returned into her galley, accompanied only with the four knights that had conducted her to the Court, who having seen her embarked, returned back to the City, but they had no sooner turned their backs, when a thick and great Cloud so ouershaddowed the ship, that presently they lost the sight thereof.   

CHAP. XIX.  
How after the departure of Vrganda, the king being ready to mount on horse back, to execute the enterprise which he had determiped to make upon the burning lake, there came before him a Daviosell Giantess, to under stand whether his Majesty would be pleased to refer the quarrel that he pretended in this vorage, upon the combat betwixt Ardan Canila, and Amadis of Gaul, with such conditions as shall be declared unto you.  
SOme few days after ●he departure of Vrganda, king Lisuart walking upon the sea sand consulting with his knights about the voyage which he determined to make unto the slay of Mongaza, to set at liberty king Arban, and Angriotta, they beheld a ship making towards the shore which cast anchor hard by them. Whereupon they all approached to know who or what news it had brought, when suddenly they perceived two Esquires waiting upon a damosel, coming forth thereof, who was no sooner landed but she demanded for the king. Those unto whom she spoke, answered that he was there: but they did all wonder at her greatness, for there was not a man in all the Court whom she exceeded not in height a hand breadth: for the rest, she was indifferent fair, and well appareled. Then she approached near unto the king, to whom she said, if it please your Majesty, I am hither come to let you understand that which I am commanded to declare unto you in the behalf of some great personages, but if it pleased your highness, I would have the Queen present. Herewithal the king took her by the hand, and brought her to the Palace, and afterward he sent for the Queen and her Ladies, that they might hear what the damosel would say, they being all come, the damosel inquired if Amadis of Gaul (lately called the Fair Forlorn) were in this company or no. And Amadis (unto whom by chance she spoke) answered her, that he was the man, ready to do her any pleasure if she would employ him: notwithstanding, for all his courteous speech, the damosel looking upon him with a stern counrenance began to rail at him, saying, the less do I esteem thee: for thou wast never ought worth, nor never shall be, and by the effect of this my message all this company may know whether there be any heart or courage at all in thee: then she took forth two Letters of credit, sealed each of them with a seal of Gold, the one of them she presented to the king, the other to the Queen. But so soon as the king had read his letter, he commanded her to declare whatsoever she pleased. Wherefore she spoke aloud and said, It may please your Majesty, Grumadaca the giant of the burning lake, and the fair Madasima, with the most redoubted Ardan Canila (who is at this present with them, to protect and defend them against you) have known for certain, that you determine to pass into their country to assail them, and because the same cannot be done without the loss of many worthy men on either side, they have devised a means (if your majesty think good to avoid the effusion of blood, & the loss of divers valiant knights, which is this, that the combat of two persons only shall determine the quarrel between you and them, upon the victory of him that shall win the field, the one is the valiant and famous Ardan Canila, the other Amadis of Caule here present: upon this condition, that if Amadis be overcome, Ardan may freely cut off his head and carry it with him, to the burning lake unto Madasima, and also if fortune prove contrary to the said Ardan, & that Amadis remain conqueror, the land & the country that you intent to conquer, shall without contradiction be yielded up into your hands. And moreover my Lady shall in like sort presently set at liberty king Arban of North Wales, and Angriotta d'Estrauaux, who hath been a long time her prisoners, as you know. Therefore if Amadis do love them as they think and do imagaine he doth, let him presently condiseend unto this Combat for the liberty of two such great friends of his otherwise he may be assured that Arden to despite him the more, will send their heads unto him for a present, very shortly. damosel answered Amadis, if I agree to this combat, what security shall the king have for the performance of this your promise? I will tell you said she, The fair Madasima accompanied with twelve Gentlewomen of great birth, shall be sent as hostages and become the Queen's prisoners, under this condition, that if this which I have said be not wholly accomplished, the king may cause them all to die in what sort he pleaseth, and as touching you, I demand no other assurance, than this, that if you be vanquished Madasima may afterward have your head without contradiction. And to let you know that they from whom I bring this message, will not gainsay that which I have promised, I will yet further cause Andangel the old giant, with his two sons, and nine of the chiefest knights of the country, to enter into the king his prison, as pledges for the performance of the former covenants. Truly answered Amadis, if the king and Queen have these persons which you speak of in their power, the security is sufficient, but yet you shall have no answer of me, unless you first grant to dine with me in my lodging, with these two Esquires that attend upon you. I do greatly wonder said she, what moveth thee so instantly to entreat and invite me to dine in thy company, seeing that I hate thee more than any man that I know. I am sorry for that said he, for I love you, and will willingly do you all the honour and service that I am able, but if you will have an answer, grant me that which I demand of you. I do grant it, said the damosel, more to take away all occasion from thee to defer the combat, then for any desire that I have to remain in thy company. I thank you answered Amadis, and because it is reason that I adventur my person, not only to save two of my best companions & friends from death, but also do my best for the enlarging of the limits and authority of the king 〈◊〉 and his Realm, I accept the combat against Ardan, and let the hostages come when it shall please you, because for my part, so glorious an enterprise shall not be foreslowed. Certainly said the Damofell, thou hast greatly satisfied me, nevertheless I fear me thou hast said this either in choler, or to avoid the shame that otherwise thou mightst incur before so many valiant men, and therefore it may please the king to assure me, that if thou sly before the fight, he will not aid thee at any time against the kindred of Famangomad. Damosel answered the king, I promise you I will not. Now let us go to dinner said Amadis, for considering the journey which you have made you must needs have a good appetite to your meat. Truly answered she, I will go more contented than I hoped for, and seeing it hath pleased the king to grant me that which I requested, I assure you that without fail Madasima and her Gentlewomen with the knights, shall yield themselves prisoners unto his Majesty and the Queen, so that also he will be pleased to warrant Ardan from all the rest of his Court, except Amadis, from whom I hope he shall carry away the head. When Don Bruneo heard this, he answered the damosel, I have many times seen one make account of another man's head when he hath lost his own, and the like may happen unto Ardan, whom you so much exalt. Gentle friend said Amadis, I pray you let this Gentlewoman speak at her pleasure, for one like unto herself, for she and such as resemble her, have liberty to say what they list, and oftentimes ●…en they know. What are you●…ered the Gentlewoman 〈…〉, that so well can plead for Amadis? I am, said he, a knight that would willingly bear a part in this enterprise, if Ardan Canila had a companion with him. By my faith, answered she, I believe that if you did think to be received you would not speak so proudly, but you have already heard that Ardan and Amadis must be alone without any more, which maketh you to speak so haughtily, nevertheless if you be such a one as you say, I am assured that the combat of them two, shall be no sooner ended, but that I will bring before you a brother of mine that shall teach you to hold your peace, and I assure you that he is as great an enemy unto Amadis as you profess to be his friend. He shall be very welcome, and better entertained said he, and tell him hardly that he forget none of his Armour behind him at his lodging, for be he never so valiant it will be all little enough for him. Herewithal he threw down his glove. See here said he my gage, take it up for your brother, if he will allow you to do it, and will accept the combat that you have undertaken for him. The damosel took up the glove, and afterward untying from about her head a carquener of Gold, she said unto the king, If it like your Majesty, I accept the combat for my brother against this knight in his absence in witness where of, your grace may keep (if it please you) 〈…〉 pledges, the which she gave unto him, and the king●… them, although he would willingly 〈◊〉 remitted this quarrel, For 〈…〉 ready doubted the other, for that he had heard of the valiant 〈◊〉 of Ardan Canila, who river did meet (as it was said) with any knight in four years before 〈…〉 durst combat him. When the damosel perceived that she had ●…cuted her commission, according unto her desire, she took leave of the Court, and went with Amadie, who brought her unto his lodging but it had been better for him that he had been at that time a sleep, for the courtesy which he did show unto her, turned him to so great displeasure, that shortly after he was in great danger to have lost his life. Because that he would the more honour this Damosel, he brought her into that Chamber wherein Gandalin did bestow his Armour. But she had no sooner set her foot in the same, but shut cast her eyes upon Amadis his good Sword, which she thought was of so strange a fashion, that from that time forth, she determined to steal it, if she might find the means, and to do the same more cleanly, she walked so long about the chamber, that as Amadis and his people had their backs towards her, she slily drew the sword forth of the scabbard, and held it up close under her cloak. Afterwards she presently went forth of the chamber, and taking aside one of the Esquires (in whom she most trusted) she gave it unto him, saying: dost thou know what thou shalt do? run quickly into my ship, and hide me this Sword under the ballast in such sort that none do see is upon thy life. The Esquire was diligent and departed. Then Amadis entered into talk with the damosel, demanding of her at what hour Madasims would arrive in the Court. I believe answered she, that you may see her, and speak with her before the king have dined: but what moves you fair sir to inquire so much after her? Because said Amadis I would go meet her upon the way to do her honour and service, to the end that if she have received any displeasure by me, I may make her such mends as she shall demand of me. I know answered she, that if thou run not away, Ardan Canila shall be he that shall make thee answer the wrong that thou hast done unto her, with the loss of thy head, the which he shall present unto her, for other satisfaction she desireth not to accept. I will keep them both fasting without that (if God please) said Amadis, nevertheless if she will have any other thing of me, I swear unto thee, by my faith Damsel, that she shall have it, as she whose good will and favour I do most desire. Then were the Tables covered, & dinner was brought in, wherefore Amadis causing her to sit down, desirous to leave her alone, said unto her, that the king had sent for him, and that she in the mean time should make good cheer, for he would return presently again. The damosel showed by her countenance that this departure of his did not a little please her and fearing lest her theft should be perceived, she made as short a dinner as she could. Which ended, she rose from the Table, and said unto those that served her, you may tell Amadis that I give him no thanks at all for the entertainment that he hath showed me, thinking thereby to do me 〈◊〉, and assure him that I am she that will purchase (as long as the breath remaineth in my Body) his death and utter destruction. So God me help, answered 〈◊〉 I believe 〈◊〉 well, and according to that which you have already manifested, 〈…〉 my opinion you are them oft in torious woman that I have seen in all my life. Whatsoever I am, said she, I care not for thee, and less for him, and if thou thinketh 〈◊〉 injurious, yet is it not 〈◊〉 much as I would be both towards him and thee, and for the pains that thou hast taken in serving me 〈…〉 at dinner, I would in 〈…〉 thereof, that I had seen you both twain hanged. Saying to the departed and got into her ship, 〈…〉 joyful of the Sword which she 〈◊〉 stolen, which so soon as she was returned back unto 〈…〉 she presented unto him, letting him know and Madasma also, how Amadis had consented unto the combat which she had demanded of him. Is it true answered Ardan, let me never be accounted a knight of any worth, if I do not then bring back again my Lady to her honour and reputation, delivering henceforth her country from the attempts of king Lisuart, and if I take not the head of Amadii from off his shoulders in less time than the best fooreman in the world may have run half a league, I am content (said he unto Madasima) not to deserve your love so long as I live. But she hearing him speak so rashly, held her peace: and although she greatly desired to be revenged of him for the death of her Father, and brother whom Amadis had slain, yet did she so extremely abhor Arden that she a great deal rather wished his death then his life, because he pretended to marry her. For she was exceeding fair, and he a deformed villain and void of all humanity, and this combat was not practised by her means, but by the persuasion of her Mother, who had sent for him, for the defence of her Country upon this condition, that if he revenged the death of her husband and son, she would give it unto him, and her daughter Madasima in marriage, for he was so feared and had in such reputation, that she thought she could not bestow her daughter better. And to let you know his manners and perfections, he was descended from the race of giants, borne in a Province called Canila, the which was in a manner wholly inhabited by such kind of people, notwithstanding he was somewhat less of body than they, but not in strength: his shoulders were narrow, his neck and breast unreasonable thick, his hands and thighs large, his legs long and crooked, his eyes hollow, flat nosed like an Ape, his nostrils wide and loathsome, his lips great, his hair red and thick bristelled in that sort, as very hardly might it be curled. To conclude, he was so beset with freckles and black spots, that his face seemed as though it had been of sundry sorts of flesh, he was of the age of thirty years or thereabout, bold and expert in arms, furious, spiteful, and as uncourteous as might be. And yet since he was twenty and five years of age, he never fought with any Giant or other knight, either a foot, a horseback, or at wrestling, that was able to resist him, & whom he did easily not overcome such was the beauty, fashion, and gentle behaviour of Arden Canila. When the injurious damosel heard Ardan make such large promises unto Madasima, & perceived that she made no account thereof, she took upon her to speak in her behalf, me thinks my Lord that you should thinks the victory very sure on your side, seeing that Fortune is so faavourable unto you, and so contrary unto your enemy, as you may well perceive, in that she hath caused him to lose the best part of his arms. And this she said in respect of the sword which she had stolen. By my Gods, said Ardan, I am more glad of his displeasure for the want thereof, then for any good that I hope to receive thereby, for although Amadis had the force of three such as he is, yet were he not able to withstand the strength of my arm, accustomed to came his betters. The next morning very early he departed, accompanied with Madasima, and and the rest which should be delivered up as hostages, according to the promise that the damosel had made unto king Lisuart before the Combat was agreed upon, and Canila did assuredly hope, that he should easily obtain the victory. By means whereof he departed with great joy, saying unto those that were with him, Amadis is famoused for one of the best knights in the world, nevertheless I will have his head, if he dare enter into the lists against me, and by that means my glory shall be the more increased in the overcoming of him, my Lady shall rest well revenged, and I remain her husband and lover. And because he would know before he entered into the court, whether Amadis had repent him or not, he sent the injurious damosel before, to advertise the King of their coming, and in the mean season he caused his tents to be set up, somewhat near the City where King Lisuart did remain. But you must know, that incontinently after the damosel was departed from Amadis his lodging, Enil told him thereof: therefore because he would provide all things necessary for his enterprise, he withdrew him unto his chamber, accompanied with some of his most private friends, and in like sort there came at that instant unto him, Florestan, Agrates, Galuanes without land, and Guillan the pensive, who were altogether ignorant of the enterprise of this new combat. But when they were advertised thereof, thinking that it should have been performed with a greater number of knights, there was not any of them who were not displeased with Amadis, in that he had not choose them to assist him therein, especially Guillan who greatly desired to prove his manhood against Ardan Canila, for he had heard that he was esteemed for one of the strongest Knights in all the West. And as he was about to reprou Amadis in forgetting him, Florestan prevented him, saying unto his brother. So God help me, my Lord, I now do very well perceive, the little love and the small account that you do make of me, in that you would not send for me to be with you in this combat. In faith, answered Agraies, if he had thought me any thing worth, he would not have left me behind, and what of me? said Galuanes. My Lords, answered Amadis, I beseech you all to hold me excused, and not to be displeased with me, assuring you that if it had been in my choice to have elected a companion to assist me in this encounter (seeing the great prowess wherewith you are all endued) I could not tell which of you to choose. But Ardan desired to fight with me alone, for the hate he beareth unto me, and the love he hath to Madasima, and seeing that he hath so required it, I neither could, nor aught to refuse it, without showing myself to be a recreant and a coward, nor I could not make any other answer, then that which was agreeable to his demand. And when he should have comprised any more Knights with him, where do you think I would have sought for aid and succour but with you, being my friends? seeing you know how my strength is redoubled when we are together. In this sortdid Amadis excuse himself, praying them all to bear him company the next day, to go meet Madasima, both to receive her, & show her as much honour as they might devise. Whereunto they all agreed: so that the day following (knowing that she was near at hand) Amadis accompanied with eight of the best knights in King Lisuarts Court, mounted on Horseback in very good order. But they had not long ridden when they did behold her a far off, coming with Ardan Canila, who did lead her, & she was appareled all in black, mourning as yet for the death of her father, whom Amadis had slain. This sad apparel did so much grace her, that although of herself (without any other help) she was esteemed one of the fairest that might be seen, yet was her beauty much more increased by this mourning weed, with the which the lively whiteness of her face was the more manifested, by the grace which this black colour added thereunto, and her two cheeks seemed like two white roses, beautified with a natural redness, so as even then those which had conceived a mortal hate against her for the mischief which she procured unto Amadis, were now forced to love her. Behind her marched the twelve gentlewomen, appareled with the like attire. After them came the old giant, and his son followed with nine knights, which all came as pledges. Great was the entertainment that Amadis showed unto her and the rest of her train, and she in like sort saluted them most courteously. Then Amadis approaching more near, said unto her, I promise you Madam that if you be accounted fair and of good behaviour it is not without great cause, seeing that I am now myself an eye witness of the truth thereof, and truly that man ought to think himself happy, whose service it shall please you to like of, assuring you that I am willing to do you any pleasure, and ready to obey your commandments: when Ardan Canila heard him speak so courteously (although he was smally favoured by Madasima) he was overcome with jealousy, and answered Amadis, knight stand back and speak not so privately unto her, whom you know not. Sir said Amadis, the cause of my coming hither is not only to be acquainted with her, but also to offer unto her my person and my goods. You are no doubt answered he some good fellow, and worthy to be by her greatly employed, nevertheless fair sir, get you gone from her, otherwise I will make you know that it is not for so base a companion as you, to use so great familiarity with a woman of so high worth as she is. Whatsoever I am answered Amadis, yet do I desire to serve her, notwithstanding your threats, for although I am not of that worth as I would be, yet shall nor the affection that I bear unto her, be abated by thy malapert boldness. But sir, you that are so lusty, who would make me know my duty & depart from her, for whom willingly I would employ my best means, tell me what you are? Ardan Canila exceeding angry, beholding Amadis with a stern and scornful countenance answered him, I am Ardan, who am better able to increase her welfare and honour in one day, than thou canst with the best means thou hast, do her service in all thy life. It may very well be said Amadis, notwithstanding I know that this whereof thou vantest shall never by thee be executed, so indiscreet and spiteful art thou.  
And because that thou greatly desirest to know whether I am a sufficient man or nor, know thou that my name is Amadis of Gaul, against whom thou desirest to fight: and if this Lady be displeased with aught that I have said unto her, I will make her such amends therefore as she shall please to command at my hands. By my Gods, answered Ardan Canila, if thou tarriest the combat, the satisfaction which she shall take shall be thy head. That would displease me marvelously, said Amadis, but I will give her a head that shall be more welcome to her (if she please) breaking the marriage of you two, being so far unfit one for another: for she is fair, wise, and of courteous behaviour, & thou deformed foolish & churlish, Hereat Madasima & the Gentlewomen began all to laugh, & Ardan to be extremely angry, that to behold his countenance and the rage wherein he was, one might easily have judged the little good that he wished to Amadis, unto whom he answered not one word more, yet he ceased not grumbling and gnashing his teeth until he came before the king. Then very indiscreetely he began to say, King Lisuart behold here the knights that must now enter into your prison, according to the promise which yesterday a gentlewoman made unto you, in my behalf. Wherefore if Amadis dare be so bold to do as he hath boasted, I am here ready to break his head. What will you do answered Amadis? Thinkest thou my heart so weak or my right so small that I cannot abate the pride of a man so audacious as Ardan is? I assure thee that although I had not undertaken it, yet would I combat thee only to hinder the marriage between thee and Madasima. And therefore defer not to deliver up these hostages which thou dost brag off, for I verily hope to revenge the good and valiant King Arban, & Angriotta, for the great wrong they have received, during their imprisonment, I have brought them along with me, said Ardan, knowing that you would demand them, but I am in good hope to restore them again into the power of the fair Madasima, and to give her therewithal the mould of thy cap, to testify that it becometh not such a gallant as thou art to use me with such proud and spiteful terms, and that (in the executing thereof) she may receive the greater pleasure, it may please your king to appoint that she may be set in a place hard at hand, to the end that she may both plainly see the revenge that I shall take of thee, and also the cruel death wherewith thou shalt die. At the same instant the pledges were brought, and the fair Madasima together, with her twelve Gentlewomen came to do their humble duties unto the Queen, and by her fide was the old Giant, his two sons, and the nine knights, who all fell upon their knees before the King. At the same time every one did attentively behold the fair Madasima, who showed such an humble countenance, that she was greatly esteemed, yet could not Oriana cast one good look upon her, thinking that she (of her own will) did procure the ruin of Amadis, for the which none was more sorrowful than she. But Mabila who was in like sort nearly touched with the matter, put her in hope that God would aid him, and that her Cousin might at easily overthrow and vanquish Ardan Canila, as he did the proud Dardan, and many other knights, both valiant and stout. The pledges then being received as the custom was, both the knights retired each of them to the place appointed for them, staying until the time that they should enter into the field, the which the king had commanded to be closed in with pales. Then Gandalin went to seek his master's Armour. And as he would have taken it down he perceived that some one had stolen his good sword forth of the scabbard, which had almost made him die for anger, seeing the fault that he had done unto Amadis, towards whom he ran, and as one beside himself, he cried. My Lord, I have so much & so grievously offended you, that you have great reason to kill me forthwith. Why? answered Amadis, art thou foolish or mad. My Lord said Gandalin, it had been better for you that I had died ten year ago, so much I have deceived you in your need, for I have let your good sword to be lost, the which some body hath stolen since yesterday, leaving only the scabbard where it did hang. Is this all thou makest this great stir for? answered Amadis, believe me I thought (in hearing thee rage in this sort) that some body had been carrying thy Father to his grave. Go, go, never care thou, for I care not so much for the goodness thereof, but only because I did win it so honourably as every one knoweth, and by the means of my constancy in love. Yet see thou tell no body thereof, but go unto the Queen and tell her that I entreat her grace, if she have yet that sword which Guillan found at the fountain with my armour, that she will be pleased to send it unto me. And if thou meetest Oriana by chance, tell her also that I desire her to set herself in such a place, where I may behold her at my ease, when I shall be in fight, for I shall receive by her sight more force by far, than she being absent I should. So Gandalin departed, who did wisely accomplish all that his master had commanded him. And as he returned unto him, he met with the Queen Briolania together with Oliuda, who called him and said unto him, friend Gandalin, what dost thou think thy master will do against this devil, that will fight with him? what answered he, my Ladies do you doubt that he shall not do well enough with him? I am sure that I have seen him escape far greater dangers than this which now he undertaketh. God grant he may said the Ladies. Here withal her came unto Amadis that sstayed for him, who having the Sword that the Queen did send unto him and being thoroughly well armed, he mounted on horseback. And as he would have entered into the field, the king met him, and said unto him, how now my most dear friend, this day do I hope to see some part of your courage, to the cost of Ardan Canila. In faith if it like your Majesty answered her, there is a great mischance happened unto me, some one hath robbed me of the best sword that ever knight did wear. Is it possible said the king? Who hath done you this shrewd turn? I know not answered Amadis, but whosoever hath done it, sure I am he is not my friend. Truly said the king, that is likely, but take you no thought therefore, for although that I have made an oath never to lend mine in any combat that is made by two knights in my court, yet am I content for this time to stretch my conscience so far as to give it you. Nay if it like your Majesty, God forbid that the oath of the best king in the world, should be broken for my sake. What will you then do said the king? The Queen answered Amadis, hath done so much for me as to keep that sword which I left at the fountain of the plain field, the which Guillan did bring with the rest of my Armour, when I became a Hermit. And it is the very self same which I had, when I was cast into the Sea, which is so fit for the scabbard of the other which is stolen, that it seemeth to be the very same. By the faith that I owe unto God, answered the king, I am very glad, for by the virtue of this scabbard that is left, you shall be both defended from overmuch heat, or too great cold, nevertheless the difference is great between the two blades, but God shall supply this default if it be his pleasure. And because it is already very late, and that the night approacheth, it were better to defer the combat until to morrow morning. I will said Amadis do whatsoever shall please your Majesty, so that Ardan be content. I will go send unto him answered the King, whereunto Ardan did easily agree, and returned unto his tents to unarm himself, afterwards he caused diverse sorts of instruments of music to be brought, & all the night long both he and his never ceased from dancing, feasting, & royalting. But all that while was Amadis in the Church devoutly praying. After he had like a Christian confessed his sins, he beseeched God to assist and succour him, in such sort continued he until about day break, when he withdrew him to his lodging, where shortly after the King came unto him with a great troop of knights. Who after they had bidden him good morrow, they armed him, and brought him with great triumph unto the Cathedral Church to hear service, & at his return from thence Florestan presented him with an excellent fair courser, which Corisanda had sent unto him not long before. Then every one got to horseback to accompany him to the field. And Florestan carried Amadis his Lance, Brunco his helmet, and Agraies his shield, before them did the King ride with a white truncheon in his hand, he road on a Spanish Jennet, being as fine a made horse & as proudly paced as any could be seen. The Inhabitants of the City, and many strangers were already standing all along the barriers, & the gentlewomen and Damosels placed in the windows. In this sort did Amadis enter into the field, into the which he was no sooner come but that he did his duty unto the Ladies, and amongst them all he spied out Oriana, who the more toencrease his courage did put her head forth of the window. And smiling kindly upon him, she made a sign unto him that he should somethings do for her love, wherewith Amadis did imagine that all the force in the world was at that instant placed round about his heart, and he thought that Ardan Canila stayed too long before he came. In the mean time he buckled on his helmet & retired to that part of the field where they appointed. judges were seated, which were Don Grumedan, Quedragant, & Brandoinas. And shortly after came Ardan in richly armed, mounted upon a great strong horse, and he had about his neck a shield of fine steel shining as bright as burning glass. At his side did hang the good sword of Amadis, holding in his hand a great huge Lance, the which he weelded so strongly, that notwithstanding the thickness thereof, he shaked it with such force, that he made it double in his fist. Whereat Oriana, Mabila, and the other Ladies beholding the stern countenance of Ardan (as it often happeneth in those things which one feareth to to lose) they began to be in doubt of him whom they all favoured, so as Oriana said: Alas if God take not pity upon Amadis, this day will be his last. But Mabila presently reproved her saying: Madam, if you show not a pleasant countenance unto my cozen, he shall be easily vanquished, although Ardan strike never a stroke. Hereupon the trumpets sounded. Then Amadis beholding Oriana, set spurs unto his horse, and they both met so rudely, that their Lances were broken into shivers, encountering together with their shields & bodies so forcibly, that Ardan his horse fell down dead in the place, and the other of Amadis had his shoulder broken, nevertheless Amadis with great lightness rose up, although the truncheon of his enemy's Lance remained sticking in his vambraces, the which he presently pulled forth, and drawing out his sword, he valiantly marched against Ardan Canila, who in like sort with great pain was risen up. And as he stayed to mend his helmet which was somewhat shaken with his fall, seeing his enemy approach, he made head against him, and there began between them so cruel an encounter, as there was not any man present that did not greatly wonder thereat, for with the sparkles of fire which preceded by their strokes from their helmets, they seemed to be all on fire, and by their weighty blows which with great prowess were bestowed, they manifested the hate which they did bear unto each other, for there was not one blow smitten but the blood followed, nevertheless it seemed that Ardan had the advantage over his enemy, as well because of the shield of steel which he had, as also for the hurt which he did with the sword of Amadis, which the injurious damosel had given him. But yet Amadis followed him so near, as oftentimes he brought him out of breath, wherewith Ardan was much abashed, and he verly thought that in all his life he had not found a knight that handled him so rudely, especially he imagined his enemy's force to be redoubled when most of all his impaired. Whereat as it were disdaining that he should so long continue, covering him with his shield, he ran upon Amadis, who had all his armour and shield in such sort hacked and broken, that he could not well tell wherewith to defend him any more, because that Ardan never fastened blow upon him but that his flesh felt it, whereby every one judged that he would carry away the victory. Then was Madasima very sorry hereat, for she was a woman of so stout a heart that she would rather have lost her land and herself then to marry him, and so long these two knights maintained the combat, that every one 〈◊〉 marvel how they were able to continue. But Oriana seeing the piteous estate of Amadis and the danger whereunto he was brought, by the reason that his armour was so broken, she was likely to have sounded, & she became very pale and out of heart, until Mabila perceiving it, said unto her. Madame it is no time now to leave Amadis in this peril, seeing that if you turn your back, you hasten his end, and deprive him of his victory, at the least if you cannot behold him, turn your fate quite from him. At that time was Amadis so sorely pressed by Ardan that Brandoinas' one of the judges said unto Grumenan, and Quedragant, Truly my Lord Amadis is in great necessity for want of good armour, see how his shield is hacked, & his haubert so broken, that in a manner he hath nor wherewithal to defend one blow. Trust me you say true answered Grumedan, and I am very sorry for it. Of my faith said Quedragant, I have proved Amadis when I sought with him, but the longer he fighteth, the stronger and more invincible he waxeth, so that it seemeth each hour his force increaseth, the which is not so with Ardan, as by proof you may now see by his unweeldinesse, & more shall you see before the battle be ended. This speech was heard by Oriana and Mabila, wherewith they were greatly comforted, and because he had seen Oriana almost ready to depart from the window, not daining any longer to behold him, he thought she was displeased, for that he deferred so long to get the victory of his enemy. Whereat he was so grieved, that gripping his sword fast in his fist, he struck so sound a blow upon the helmet of Ardan, that he made him bow one knee to the ground, but by mischance his sword broke in three pieces, the least whereof remained in his hand. Then did he think his life in very great danger, & there was not any of the beholders that did not suppose him vanquished, and Ardan victor: who began to lift up his arm, saying so loud that every one did hear: behold Amadis the good sword which with wrong thou gottest, by the which thou shalt receive a shameful death. See gentle Ladies see, look forth of your windows, to behold my Lady Madasima revenged, and say whether I am not worthy of her love. When Madasima heard Ardan make this brag, and seeing that without doubt fortune favoured him, so as according to the promise which her mother had made unto him, she should be constrained to take him for her husband, she came and cast herself at the feet of the Queen, beseeching her most humbly that it would please her grace to hinder this marriage, the which she might justly do, because that Ardan had said unto her that if he got not the victory of Amadis in less space than the best lackey in the world could run half a league, that he was content that she should never love him so long as she lived, and that now it was more than four hours since the combat began. Gentle Lady answered the Queen, I will do that which shall be reasonable. In the mean time Amadis was much astonished, and seeing that he had no means to defend himself, he began to remember that which Vrganda had foretold him, which was that if he were Lord of half the world, he would give it upon condition that his sword were in the bottom of some deep lake. Moreover looking up towards Oriana, he perceived that to encourage him she was come again to the window, whom when he had beheld, he thought that he had recovered new force and help. By means whereof, he either determined to die speedily, or to be revenged upon his enemy suddenly, and the better to execute his determination, he leapt unto his enemy so lightly, that before Ardan could strike him, he pulled the shield from his neck, and then stepping alittle aside, he took up a truncheon of a Lance, that lay in the field, and he thought to have thrust it through the sight of Ardan his helmet: but he went back, and lifting up his sword he struck so street a blow within the shield which Amadis did hold, that although it was of fine steel, yet did it enter therein more than a great hand breadth. And as he strived to pull it forth, Amadis thrust the head of the truncheon through his arm, wherewith he felt such extreme grief, that he forsook the sword which he held, on the which Amadis presently fastened his hand, & pulled it forth, thanking God for aiding him in his greatest need. When Mabila beheld the case thus altered, she called Oriana, who having seen her friend in such extremity, was newly laid down upon a bed, studying with herself what death she might choose for the speediest, if Amadis were vanquished. And Mabila said unto her, Madam, come see how God hath holpen us, Ardan (without doubt) is overcome. The great joy which Oriana received at these news made her suddenly to start up, and looking out of the window, she perceived how Amadis had strooken his enemy so mighty a blow upon the shoulder, that he separated it from his neck, wherewith he felt such anguish, that he turned his back, but he ran not far before Amadis struck him again, and he pursued him so sharply, as that he made him recoil back even to the top of a Rock, against the which the Sea did beat, so that he could go no farther. Then was Ardan Canila brought between two extremities, for on the one side the deep and unmerciful waves set before his eyes his unhappy end, on the other side he perceived the sharp sword of his enemy which did no less terrify him Who pursued him so close, that he pulled his helmet from his head, and lifting up his arm he wounded him most cruelly, so that he fell from the top of the Rock down into the Sea, and was never after seen. For the which many praised God, especial king Arban of North-wales, and Angriotta de Estravaux, because they had seen Amadis in such danger that they greatly stood in fear of his safety. Heerewithall Amadis wiping his sword did put it up into his scabbard, and came whereas the King and the other knights were, who in great triumph brought him into his lodging, and the more to honour him, he was led between those whom he had delivered from cruel prison, that is to say, by Arban King of North-wales, and Angriotta de Estravaux. And because they were lean, pale, and almost spent, as well with the evil usage which they had received during their imprisonment, as also with the grief and melancholy that they had taken, Amadis was desirous that they should lodge in his chamber, where they were so well tended and dieted, by the aid of expert Physicians and cunning Surgeons, that they did shortly after recover their health, as by the sequel of our History you may understand.   

CHAP. XX.  
How Brunco de Bonne Mer did fight with Madamaine the ambitions, brother to the damosel injurious, and of the accusations that were made by some of the enemies of Amadis unto the King, for which cause he and many others (that were desirous to follow him) departed from the Court.  
THe next day after the combat was ended between Amadis and Ardan (as hath been related heretofore) the injurious damosel came and presented herself before the king, beseeching his Majesty to send him that should fight with her brother, whom according unto promise she had caused to come thither. For (said the damosel) although my brother be conqueror and cannot take that revenge of his enemies as the friends of Ardan may rest satisfied for his death, yet will it be some small comforth unto them notwithstanding. Now Brunco: was there present, who (without making stay, answered to the rash speeches of the foolish woman) said unto the the King. If it like your Majesty, I am the man she speaketh of, and seeing that her brother is come hither as she saith, if it be your pleasure and his will, we shall quickly know if he be such a gallant as he vaunteth. Unto the which the King condescended. Wherefore they both went immediately to arm them, and anon after they entered into the field, whither they were accompanied with certain knights their friends. They being then in the place assigned for that purpose, the Trumpets sounded to warn them to begin the combat. Forthwith they charged their Lances, and setting spurs to their horses, they ran the one against the other such force that their Lances flew into shivers, & encountering each other with their shields and bodies, Madamain lost his stirrups, and was unhorsed, & Brunco wounded in the left side. Notwithstanding so soon as he had finished his career, he turned himself to his enemy, and saw that he had already recovered his feet, and held his sword in his hand in a readiness to defend himself: but as Brunco drew near to charge him, he said to him: Sir knight alight, or else assure you that I will kill your horse. Truly said Brunco, at your choice be it, for it is all one to me, to overcome you on foot or on horseback. When Madamain saw that his wish came to a good end, being as he thouhgt stronger than his enemy, who was but little, and himself in a manner a Giant, he was most glad thereof, and said to Brunco, It were better for you to alight, and then you should soon make proof whether you were able to effect that which you make brags of: well quoth Brunco, & so withdrawing himself he alighted & left his horse, than he took his shield & set hand to his sword, approaching unto Madamain, who like a valiant & stout knight received him courageously. They began to lay on load the one at the other both of them pretending to get the victory, which was the cause that neither shield nor armour of how good temper soever, was able to withstand their blows, for they hacked them to pieces, so that the field in many places was covered with pieces of their shields. Now if the knights did assail one another with great hardiness, their horses did no less, for they set upon one another, and with their feet and teeth fight together, they did join in such sort, that the most part of the lookers on, were more intentive to the combat of the beasts, than the fight of the knights. Notwithstanding Madamain his horse in the end had the worse, being constrained to leap over the barriers, and to run away. This gave a great presumption to every man to imagine that Brunco should obtain the victory, and so it fell out, for he pursued Madamain so near, and brought him to that extremity, that being almost out of breath, he said unto Brunco. I do believe considering the rage thou art in, that thou imaginest the day will not be long enough to end our quarrel. Howbeit, if thou dost consider, that thy armour is almost unriveted, thou shalt find that it were better for thee to rest thyself, then to assail me so undiscreetly as thou dost, and therefore I being unwilling to use thee so rigorously as thou deservest, I am content to give thee leave to take breath, that we may afterwards begin the fight more hotly than before. Brunco answered, thou declarest in plain terms that which is needful for thyself. Wherefore I pray thee as lusty as thou art, not to spare me a whit. Art thou ignorant of the occasion of our combat? Knowest thou not that either thy head or mine must cease this strife? I do assure thee that I am no more determined to listen unto thy preaching: wherefore if thou determine not to die presently, look to thine own defence, better than thou hast done here-tofore. Immediately without any further disputations he assailed Madamain afresh, but he was already so weak (as not being able so much as to defend Brunco his blows) he drew himself by little and little to the top of a Rock, even to the place where Amadis had cast the body of Ardan into the Sea. And there Brunco thrust him so rudely down, that he sent him to be buried in the Sea, but before he came to the bottom, his body was torn in twenty several pieces. Which the injurious damosel perceiving, she entered into such fury and despair, that as a mad woman she ran unto the place where Ardan and Madamain were thrown down headlond, where finding Madamain his sword, she set it to her breast, crying so loud that all the company heard her, Seeing that Ardan the flower of chivalry, & my brother have chosen their grave in this raging Sea, I will bear them company. And so casting herself down headlong, she was immediately covered with the water. Then Brunco (mounting on horseback again) was conducted by the King and many other knights to the lodging of Amadis, where he desired to keep him company, in whose honour he had undertaken the combat. And because that the Queen Briolania perceived that Amadis was not like to be cured in a short space, nor to accompany her as he had promised, she took her leave of him to go see the singularities of the Firmeisland, wherefore Amadis commanded Enil to conduct her, and to desire Isania the Governor thereof, to do her all the honour, and give her the best entertainment he could devise. So Briolania departed, bidding Oriana farewell, assuring her that she should be advertised what happened unto her in trying the adventures of the Island, but she was no sooner gone from the Court, when it seemed that Fortune endeavoured the ruin of the kingdom of great Britain, which bade so long time lived in happiness. Yea even king Lisuart himself, who (forgetting not only the services he had received of Amadis, of his kindred and friends, but especially the advice and counsel of Vrganda) listened to flatterers, two ancient knights of his house, to whom (under the colour of the long education they had received, as well of the King Falangris his eldest brother, as of himself) he gave credit, believing their untrothes which he ought not to have done, as you shall presently understand. These two of whom I speak as well by reason of their ancient age, as of a kind of hypocrisy, cloaked with wisdom, took more pains to seem good and virtuous, then to be so in deed, by means whereof they entered into great authority, and were oftentimes called and made privy to the most secret affairs of their Lord, one of them was named Brocadan, and the other Gandandell. This Gandandell had two sons, who before the coming of Amadis and of his followers into great Britain, were esteemed two of the most hardiest knights in all the country, notwithstanding the prowess and dexterity of the other, did abate the renown▪ of those whom I speak of. Whe●s▪ at their father was so displeased, that forgetting the fear of God, the faith which he ought to his Prince, and the honour which all men of honesty ought to be end●…ed withal, determined not only to accuse Amadis, but likewise all those whom he esteemed a● his friends, and did converse withal, hoping to build his treason in such sort, that by the ruin of so many good knights, he would work his own & his friend's profit. Wherefore finding the King on a time at leisure, he used speeches of like substance unto him. It may please your Majesty, I have all my life long desired to be faithful unto you, as to my King and natural Lord, even as my duty bindeth me, and will yet continue, if it please God, for besides the ●ath of fidelity which I have swerne unto you, you have of your gracious favour heaped so many be●… upon me; that it I should not counsel you, in that which did concerne●y our royal Majesty, I should commit a great fault both towards God and men. In consideration whereof if it like your Majesty, after I had long weighed with myself that which I will declare unto you, I have often repent that I deferred the matter so long, not for any malice I bear unto any man (as God is my witness) but only for the damage which I see ready to ensue, if your Majesty do not speedily and wisely seek remedy to prevent it. Your Majesty knoweth that of long time there hath been great controversy between the kingdoms of Gaul and great Britain, because that the Kings your predecessors, have always pretended title of sovereignty thereunto. And albeit that for some time this quarrel hath linedead, notwithstanding it is likely that those of that Country (calling to mind the wars and damages they have endured by your subjects) have secretly determined to take revenge thereof. And in my opinion, Amanis who is chief and principal amongst them all, is not come into this Country, but to practise and gain your people: who (joined with the forces which he may easily land here) will so trouble you, that it will be hard for you to resist them. And I beseech you to consider whither the likelihood thereof be not already very apparent. Moreover your Majesty may be pleased to consider that he of whom I speak, and those of his alliance likewise, have done me so much honour and pleasure, that both I and my children are greatly bounden unto them, and were it not that you are my sovereign Lord. I would in no wise pleake against Amadis, but in those things which concern your person, let me rather receive death, then that I spare any man living were he mine own son. You have received Amadis with so great number of his parents and other strangers into your Court (like a good and liberal Prince as you are) that in the end, their train will become greater than your own, wherefore if it like your Majesty, it were good to foresee this matter before the fire be kindled any further. When the King heard Gandandel speak in this sort, he became very pensive, and afterwards answered him: In faith loving friend, I believe that you advertise me as a good and faithful subject, nevertheless seeing the services that they of whom you speak have done unto me, I cannot be persuaded in my mind, that they would procure or imagine any treason against me. May it please your Majesty, answered he, that is it which deceiveth you, for if they had heretofore offended you, you would have been ware of them as of your enemies, but they can wisely cloak their pretended treason, colouring it with an humble speech, accompanied with some small services, wherein they have employed themselves, watching a time of more fit opportunity. The King turned his head on the one side without answering any farther, because there came some Gentlemen unto him, nevertheless Gandandel being as yet ignorant how the King had taken his advertisement, he practised with Brocadan, and drew him unto his league, declaring unto him the whole discourse which he had with the King, assuring him that if they might banish Amadis and his allies, that from thenceforth they two alone should govern the king and his Realm peaceably. Brocadan receiving this counsel for good, did afterwards imprint in the King his mind so great jealousy, and surpition against Amadis and his fellows, as from that day he hated them in so strange a sort, that he could not in a manner abide to see them, forgetting the great services performed by them, as well when he and Oriana were delivered from the hands of Arcalaus, as afterwards in the battle against King Cildadan, and in many other places heretofore recited. Truly if this King had well remembered the counsel and advise which he had received of Vrganda, he had not so far digressed from the bounds of reason, although that the like malady doth often haunt all Princes, when they take not heed of falling into the like accidents and danger as King Lisuart did. Who giving credit to the deceitful words of these traitors, did never afterwards visit (as he was accustomed) Amadis and the others that were wounded, whereat they were not a little abashed, but to do them the more despite he sent for Madasima and other pledges, unto whom he said, that if within eight days the Isle of Mongaza were not yielded unto him according to their promise, that then he would suddenly cause their heads to be smitten off. When Madasima heard this rigorous constraint, never was woman more afraid, considering, that in performing the will of the King, she should remain poor and utterly dishereted, and on the other side, denying to satisfy his behest, she did see her death prepared, so that she was in such perplexity, as not being able to answer him, she had recourse unto her tears. Wherefore Andangell the old Giant answered the King, saying. If it please your Majesty, I will go with those whom you shall appoint to send, unto the mother of Madasima, and I will deal with her in that sort, as she shall accomplish your will, yielding the Country and places which you demand, otherwise your Majesty may do your pleasure with us. This the King liked well of, and even that day he sent him with the Earl Latin, and caused Madasima and her women to be carried back to their accustomed prison, whether they were brought by divers Gentlemen. Whom she moved greatly to pity her estate, by the complaints and sorrowful lamentation that she made unto them, praying every one of them particularly to labour in her behalf unto the King, so that there was not one amongst them all, who promised not to do for her as much as possibly they could, especially Don Galuanes, who at that time held her by the arm, beholding her with such an eye, as he became of her enamoured, and said unto her: Madam, I am sure that if it would please you to accept me for your husband, the King would freely bestow upon us all the right that he pretendeth in your Country. I believe also that you are not ignorant of my nobility, being brother to the King of Scotland, and that by me your authority shall not be diminished. For the rest, assure yourself that I will use you as you are worthy. Now Madasima had known him of long time, & she was assured that he was one of the best Knights in the world. Wherefore accepting the offers of Galuanes, she fell down at his feet, most humbly thanking him for the good and honour which he did offer unto her, and even then was the marriage between them agreed upon, the which afterward Galuanes laboured to effect to his uttermost power. And the better to accomplish it, some few days after he came unto Amadis and Agraies, making them acquainted with that which you have heard, and Agraies said unto him: Uncle, I know very well that love hath no respect of persons, sparing neither young nor old, and seeing that you are become one of his subjects, we will beseech the King so much in your behalf, that you shall enjoy your desired love, therefore determine to behave yourself like a lusty champion for Madasima is a woman, not likely to be pleased with a kiss only By my faith (answered Amadis) my Lord Galuanes, the King in my opinion, will not refuse us, and I promise you that so soon as I am able to walk, your Nephew and I will go unto his Majesty to entreat that which you demand. But you must understand that whilst these things were in doing, Gandandell the better to cover & dissemble the treason which he had conspired, did go oftentimes to see and visit Amadis, so that one time amongst the rest he said to him: my Lord, it is long since you saw the King. What is the cause thereof answered Amadis? Because said Gandandel, by his countenance it seemeth he beareth you no great good will. I know not answered Amadis, yet to my knowledge I never offended him. For this time they passed no farther, until at another instant this traitor came again to see him, showing unto him a better countenance than he was accustomed, saying: my Lord, I told you the other day, that I thought by the speeches which I heard the King speak of you, that his friendship was not so firm unto you as it was wont to be, and because that I and mine are so greatly bound unto you, for the pleasures which you have done unto us, I will truly let you understand how the King hath a very bad opinion of you, and therefore look unto it. So many times did he repeat this and the like matter unto Amadis, that he began to suspect lest he had laid some snare to entrap him in, whereby the King might conceive some evil opinion of him. And therefore one day when Gandandel persevered in his advertisements, Amadis being very angry, answered him: My Lord Gandandel, I do greatly wonder what moveth you to use this speech so often unto me, seeing that I did never think upon any thing but only wherein I might do the King service? And I cannot believe that a Prince so virtuous as he is, would ever suspect me for a thing which I never committed. Wherefore never break my head more with such follies, for I take no pleasure therein. For this cause Gandandel durst never after that speak any more thereof unto him, until that Amadis being healed, went unto the Court, but so soon as the King beheld him he turned his head from him & his fellows, not vouchsafing so much as once to look upon them. Then Gandandel who was hard by them seeing the King's countenance, came to embrace Amadis, saying unto him, that he was glad of his recovery. But by my faith said he, I am very sorry that the king useth you no better, notwithstanding now you may know whether the advertisements that I gave you were false or nor. Amadis answered him not one word, but came unto Angriota & Brunco, who thinking that he had not marked the countenance which the King showed unto them, advertised him thereof. There is no cause answered Amadis, that you should take it in ill part, seeing that very often a man is intentive unto some thing whereon his mind is set, that he taketh no heed unto that which others do, it may be that the king mused upon some other matter when we saluted him, therefore let us return and speak unto his Majesty for that which Galuanes entreated us. Here withal they approached unto him, and Amadis said unto the King. Although, if it please your Majesty, that I have not here-tofore done you that service that I desire, yet have I presumed (trusting in your good bounty) to request one gift of your highness, which can not but turn greatly to your honour, moreover you shall bind those unto your Majesty, whom you may pleasure with your gacious grant. At this time was Gandandel present, who playing the hypocrite (as he was accustomed) very malapertly took upon him to speak, and answered Amadis. Truly if it be so as you say, the King ought not to deny your suit. If it like your highness, said Amadis, the gift which I and my fellows here present, do beseech your high-to grant unto us, is, that it would please you to bestow upon the Lord Galuanes the Isle of Mongaza, for the which he shall yield you fealty and homage, in marrying with Madasima, by the which favour your grace shall both advance a poor Prince, and extend your pity unto one of the fairest Gentlewomen in the world. When Brocadan and Gandandel heard this demand, they looked upon the King, making a sign unto him that he should not grant it to them. Yet nevertheless it was a great while before he spoke, considering the deserts of Don Galuanes, and the services which he had received of him in many places, especially how that Amadis had conquered with the price of his blood, the land which he required for another, nevertheless he gave no ear unto him, although by virtue he was bounden to condescend unto a request so reasonable, yet he thus answered Amadis.  
That man is ill advised who requesteth a thing that cannot be granted. I speak this because of you my Lord Amadis, who do entreat me for that which within these five days I have bestowed, as a gift upon my youngest daughter Leonor. This excuse had the King feigned of set purpose to refuse Galuanes, whereupon Amadis who was greatly discontented with the slender entertainment that he showed unto them, knowing that this was but an excuse, he could not so much command himself as to hold his peace, but that he said unto the King. Your Majesty doth very well manifest that the services which for you we have done, have been little pleasing unto you, and less profitable for us. And therefore (if these my companions will be ruled by me) we will henceforth bethink us what to do. Believe me my Nephew, answered Galuanes, you say true, and those services are very ill employed, which are done unto those that have no desire to acknowledge them, and therefore every man of courage ought to beware for whom he adventure himself. My Lords, answered Amadis, blame not the King for nor granting that which he hath promised unto another, and let us only entreat him that he will be pleased to permit that Galuanes may marry with Madasima. And if he grant this favour, I will give unto him the Firmeisland. Madasima (answered the King) is my prisoner, and if she deliver not unto me the land which she hath promised me, she shall lose her head before the month be past.  
By my faith, said Amadis, had your Majesty answered us more kindly, you had done us no wrong at all, if at the least you had a desire in any sort to think well of us. If my entertainment like you not answered the King, the world is large enough to find out some other, that may use you better. Truly this word hardly digested, turned afterward into a greater consequence, than the King thought it would, who perceived shortly after by Brocadan and his companion, how hurtful a thing, hateful and uncourteous speech is, as the forgetting of good and his honour, is oftentimes the overthrow both of a king and realm Amadis was so displeased with this farewell, that he said unto the king. If it like your Majesty, I have hitherto thought that there was neither King nor Prince in the world more endued with virtuous and honourable qualities than you, nevertheless we now by proof perceive the contrary. Therefore seeing you have changed your ancient good custom, by the advise of some latter bad counsel, we will go seek out another manner of life. Do answered the king, what you will, for you know my mind. Saying so, he rose up in a great rage, and went unto the Queen, unto whom he imparted the whole discourse that he had with Amadis and his companions, and how he was dispatched of them, wherewith he was very glad. I am in great doubt said the Queen, lest this your pleasure do not hereafter turn you to displeasure, for you are not ignorant, from the first day that Amadis and his confederates entered into your service, how your affairs have always prospered better and better, so as if you consider that which they have done for you, you shall find that they have deserved no such answer as you have made unto them. Besides when it shall be manifest unto others what they both have done and can do, and the little account you do make of them for their deserts, they may hereafter hope for no better at your hands, and therefore will they desist to employ themselves for you, reputing them fools, that shall do but the least service for so ungrateful a man. Tell me no more of it said the king, for it is done, but if they make their complaint unto you, tell them that long since I have given that land which they required of me to our daughter Leonor, as I did tell them. I will do it answered the Queen, seeing it is your pleasure, and God grant that all may turn to the best.  
But you must understand, that after Amadis and those in his company had seen in what sort the King had left them, they went forth of the Palace, and as they went to their lodging they concluded to say nothing thereof unto their friends until the next morning, against which time they would pray them all to meet together, and that then they would take counsel what was best to be done. And at the same instant Amadis sent Durin to tell the Princess Mabila that he would (if it were possible) the night following speak with Oriana about some matter of importance newly fallen out. In this sort the day passed, and the night approached, being already appareled in his sable weed: wherefore at such time as every one was in their soundest sleep, Amadis called Gandalin, and came unto that place by the which he commonly entered into the chamber of Oriana, who stayed for him according to the message which she had received by Durin, where being arrived, without acquainting her at the first with any thing that might displease her, after they had a little while discoursed pleasantly together, Mabila & the damosel of Denmark (who were desirous to sleep, or it may be not being able to endure that heat wherewith love did prick them, seeing the kiss & embracings wherewith these two lovers entertained one another) said unto them, the bed is big enough for you two, and the darkness fit for your desires, it is now late, lie you down if it please you, and afterwards talk together as much as you wil Madam said Amadis unto Oriana, by my faith their counsel is very good. It is best for us then to believe them answered she, and therewithal having nothing upon her but a cloak cast about her, she had quickly gotten her in between a pair of sheets, and as she laid her down close in her bed, he lent so near unto her over the bed's side, that after the curtains were drawn (not to increase his passion, but to redouble his pleasure) a wax taper being only lighted up in the chamber, they began to kiss and embrace each other so incessantly, that remaining in this great ease, their spirits entertained a double delight, by the sweet solace which their metamorphosed souls did mutially receive from the outward parts of their lips, being brought at the same instant into such an ecstasy, that they were thereby unable to speak one word, until the damosel of Denmark (thinking that Amadis had been asleep) pulled him by the garment, saying. My Lord you may lightly take cold, get you into the bed if it please you. With this waking as it were forth of a sound sleep, he fetched a deep sigh. Alas dear love said the Princess, should you not be as well at your ease if you were laid down in the bed by me, as to take so much pain and hurt yourself. Madam (answered he) seeing it pleaseth you so to command me, I will not make it dainty to strain a little courtesy with you.  
No sooner had he said these words, but that he threw himself stark naked between the Princess her arms, then begun they again their amorous sports, performing with contentment that thing which every one in the like delight doth most desire: afterwards they began to confer of divers matters, until that Oriana demanded of him wherefore he had sent her word by Durin that he had somewhat of great importance to tell her. Madam answered he, I will declare it unto you, seeing that you desire to know it, although I am sure it will be both strange & grievous unto you, nevertheless I must of necessity advertise you thereof, because it is of so great consequence. You must understand therefore Madam, that the King your father yesterday did speak unto Agrays, Galuanes, & me in such discourteous sort, that thereby we well perceived little good he wisheth us, afterwards he recited unto her word by word, of all that had happened, & how in the end the king rising up in a great rage, told them that the world was large enough for them to go seek some other place where they might be better requited then of him. And for this cause Madam said Amadis, we must of force do what he hath commanded, otherwise we should greatly prejudice our honours, remaining against his will in his service, seeing that he might presume that we had no other place to go unto, where we might be entertained, therefore I beseech you not to be offended, if in obeying him I am constrained to leave you for a season. You know what power you have over me, and that I am as much yours as you can wish, moreover I know very well that if I should gain any bad reputation, you are she that would be most offended therewith, so much am I sure that you do love and esteem me, which maketh me again to entreat you to allow of my departure, and to give me leave, using your accustomed constancy and virtue. Alas, answered she, my dear love, what do you tell me? Madame, if it please God the King hereafter will acknowledge the wrong that he hath done unto us, and I shall be as well welcome unto him as ever I have been. Gentle friend, answered the Princess, you do much amiss to complain of my father, for if he hath received any good from you, it was for my love, & by the commandment that I gave unto you, and not for his sake, for I alone did bring you hither, and was the cause that you remained with him. And therefore it is not he that must recompense you, but I, unto whom you belong. It is very true that he hath always thought otherwise, for which he is the more to be blamed for answering you so undiscreetly. And although that your departure is the most grievous thing that could happen to me (being a matter of constraint) I am content to fortify myself, and to prefer reason before the delights and pleasures which I receive by your presence. Therefore will I frame my will to your liking, because I am sure that in what place soever you shall be, your heart (which is mine) shall remain with me, as pledge of the power which you have given me over yourself, and yet moreover, my father in losing you shall know by those few that he shall have left, what he hath lost by you. Madame, said Amadis, the favour which you show unto me is so great, that I esteem it no less than the redemption of mine own life. For you know that every virtuous man ought to have his honour in such estimation, that he ought to prefer it before his own life. In like sort Madam, seeing that to conserve it I must of force depart from you, do thus much if it please you for me, as (during my absence) to let me hear very often from you: And to hold me always in your good favour, as he who was never borne but only to obey and serve you. And truly whosoever had seen the Princess then, when Amadis took this sorrowful farewell, he might easily have been witness of the passion which she endured. Nevertheless Amadis seeing the day constrained him to depart (in kissing her sweetly) he rose up, leaving her so full of sorrow & heaviness, that although she dissembled as well as she could, this her extreme grief, yet had she not so much power over herself, but that she awaked Mabila and the damosel of Denmark with her loud sighs, who thinking her to be taken with some new disease came hastily unto her, and found that Amadis was already appareled. Then they demanded of him, what moved Oriana in such extreme sort to complain. Amadis told them the whole discourse in what sort he was constrained to forsake the court, and the service of the king, wherefore my loving friends said he, I pray you to go & comfort my Lady. Which said, he took his leave of them, and departed, leaving all the three Ladies accompanied only with sorrow, and extreme passion. Now you must know that so soon as Agraies and Galuanes were come unto Amadis his lodging, they sent unto all their friends particularly, to entreat them to meet there the next morning, the which they accordingly performed, than they went altogether to the Church to hear service, at their return from whence, they all walking in a great field, Amadis began to speak unto them in this manner: My Lords because that some one may wrongfully blame my Lord Galuanes, Agrays, me, & some others here present, for leaving the king his service (as we are determined to do) they and I have thought good to let you understand what is the occasion thereof. I believe that there is not any in this company that knoweth not whether since our arrival in great Britain the authority of a Prince be increased or diminished. Wherefore without spending the time in rehearsing the services which we have done unto him, for the which we had great hope to have received (besides his good will) a great reward, I will declare unto you particularly, with what ingratitude he used us yesterday, & even as, fortune which is mutable & inconstant, doth often times overthrow all things, so hath he changed his conditions, either by some bad counsel which he hath received, or for some sleight occasion whereof we are ignorant. But this much I am sure, that my Lord Galuanes did desire us to be a means for him unto his Majesty not past eight or ten days since, that he would be pleased to permit him to marry with Madasima, and in so doing, to suffer him likewise to enjoy her lands, upon this condition that he should hold them of him, and of his Crown, by fealty and homage, the which we promised to perform. By means whereof, so soon as I was able to go, I and others in this company did make this request unto him, but he without any regard either unto us that were suitors, or unto him for whom we sued, who is (as every on knoweth) brother unto the King of Scotland, as valiant and hardy a knight as possible may be, & such a one as in the late battle against king Cildadan hath not spared his life, but hath done as much as any other that was there, he hath not only refused our requests, but also given us such injurious words, as were far unfit and unworthy such a king. And notwithstanding at the beginning we made small account thereof, until he said unto us all (as we showed unto him some reasons for our request) that we should go seek else where for such a one as would acknowledge, and better esteem of us than he did, and that the world was wide enough, without importuning him any further. Therefore my fellows and friends since that being in his service, we have been ever dutiful unto him, so for my part I am yet very well content in this case not to displease him and to get me forth of his country.  
But because it seemeth unto me that this his licence to depart doth not only touch me, and those unto whom he spoke, but all others who are none of his subjects, I thought it good to acquaint you therewith, to the end, that you might bethink what to doc. Much were these Knights amazed at the words of Amadis, considering that if the great services of him and his brethren were so badly requited, that very hardly would that little which they had done be recompensed. Wherefore they determined to forsake the King, and to go seek their fortune elsewhere, especially Angriotta de Estranaux, who to draw the rest unto his opinion and to follow Amadis, he began to say with a loud voice. My Lords, it is yet no long time since I knew the King, and for that little acquaintance that I have had with him, I did never see a Prince more wise, virtuous and temperate, than he hath been in his affairs, wherefore I doubt me greatly, that this which he hath done unto Amadis, and to these Lords present, proceedeth nor of his own fancy: but he hath been incited thereunto by some wicked malicious person, who hath persuaded him to use them in that sort. And because that for these eighteen days, I have seen Gandandel & Brocadan very often consulting with him, and that so he hath been more private with them then any other, I fear me that they are the men that have been the chief workers of this mischief, for I have known them of long time for the most malicious persons in all the world. Therefore I am determined even this day to demand the combat against them, and to maintain that falsely and wickedly they have set discord between the king and Amadis, and if they will make excuse because of their age, they have each of them a son which of long time have borne Arms, against whom I alone will fight, if they dare be so bold to maintain the reason of their wicked parents. Ah my Lord Angriotta, answered Amadis, I should be very sorry that you should hazard your body in a matter so uncertain. By my faith, answered Angriotta, I am very sure thereof, and I have perceived it of long time, so that if the king would be pleased to tell but what he knoweth, he would affirm them to be such as I say. I pray you Gentle friend, said Amadis, defer it yet for this time, to the end, that the king may have no cause to be discontented, for if those whom you speak of (who have always showed to me a friendly countenance) have been so malicious as to play false play behind my back, assure you that at length their wickedness shall be discovered, and their desert recompensed, then shall you have reason to accuse them. Well, answered Augriotta, although this is against my will, yet I am content to defer it, but believe me that hereafter I shall both complain, and be revenged of them well enough.  
For the rest, my good friends, said Amadis, if it pleased the King and Queen to vouchsafe to see me, I am determined to go forthwith and take my leave of them, and so to retire unto the Firmeisland, in hope that those which will follow me, shall wholly be partakers with me, in all the good and pleasure which there I shall have. And as you doc know the Co●●trey is pleasant and wealthy, full of fair women, store of forests, and many rivers fit for hawking, furthermore, divers as well of our acquaintance as of strangers, will come and visit us: beside, in our need if we shall want any aid, and that king Lisuart will attempt any enterprise against us we shall be supported by my father, from the Country of little Britain and from Scotland, especially from the Realm of Sobradisa, the which the Queen Briolania will wholly yield into our hands, at all times when we shall please. Seeing that you are in these terms answered Quedragant, now may you know those which do love your company, from those which do not. By my faith said Amadis, I am of the opinion if any love his own particular profit, that he should not forsake so good a Master, yet those which will follow me shall neither far better nor worse than mine own self. And as they thus consulted in the meadow the king happened to come by them, accompanied with Gandandell and many other knights, and seeing them together he did pass on, making as though he saw them not.  
Then caused he a cast of jacks or Hobbies to be let fly at a Lark, and after he had a while solaced himself with this pastime, he returned back unto the City, without speaking either to Amadis or any other in his company.   

CHAP. XXI.  
How Amadis with many others his confederates for sook the service of King Lisuart, and went as well to prove the adventures of the Arch of loyal Lovers, as also of the forbidden chamber.  
WHen Amadis did see that the king perseucred still in the evil opinion which he had conceived against him and his, according to his former determination at his coming forth of the meadow, he went unto the court and he found the king ready to sit down to dinner. Then approaching unto him he said, may it please your Majesty if in any thing I have offended your grace, God and yourself can witness, assuring you, that although the services which I have done unto you have been very small, yet the will which I have had to acknowledge the benefits and honour which it hath pleased you to bestow upon me hath been exceeding great. You tell me that I should seek abroad for one that would better requite me then you, giving me thereby to understand the small desire you have, that I should obey you, not that I will depart from you as my liege Lord and Sovereign, for I was never subject to you, nor any other Prince (God only excepted) but I take leave of you as of him who hath done me great good and honour, and unto whom I do bear affectionate love and desire of service. Scant had he spoke this word when suddenly these in like sort did take their leaves viz. Gal●anes, Agrays, Dragonis, Palomir, Brunco de Bon Mer, Branfill his brother, Angriotta d'Estra●aux, Grindonan his brother, Pinores his Cousin, and Don Quedragant who stepped before all the rest, saying unto the King.  
Your Majesty knoweth that I never had come nor remained in your Court but at the instance and request of Amadis, willing and desirous to be his friend for ever, and seeing that by his occasion I became yours, by the like reason will I now leave your service, and hereafter forsake you, for what hope may I have that my small services shall be regarded, when his being so many and great, are so badly requited, without remembrance how greatly you are indebted unto him, in delivering you from the hands of Mandafabull, and for the victory also which you have obtained of king ●ildadan, with the price of his blood and other of his kindred. I could well remember you of the good turn which he did unto you when he delivered you and your daughter Oriana (as I have many times heard it said) from the hands of Arcalaus, and now of late my Lady Leonor, whom Famangomad and Basigant his son the crullest giants in the world had taken prisoner, with intent to put her to death, for which cause the ingratitude which now you show unto him is so great, that it quite depriveth you from all knowledge of the truth. And therefore he ought to make no less account of this his short farewell then of the slow reward he hath received for the services past. As for me, I am determined to follow him and to forsake your court together with him. Whereunto the king replied, Don Quedragant your tongue doth well declare the little love you bear unto me, yet notwithstanding me thinks you are not so tied nor allied unto Amadis, as in accusing me you should excuse him as you do: but your thought is otherwise, you say more than you think. Your Majesty may speak what you please, said Quedragant, like a mighty Lord as you are, nevertheless you much mistake me in thinking me to be a dissembler or a counterfeiter of leasings, as a number of others about you are, by whom I am sure that in the end you shall find yourself but badly served. Moreover before many days be past, you shall perceive who are the friends of Amadis. Which said, he retired, and Landin stepped forth, saying to the king, may it please your Majesty, I have not found one in all your court, that was able to give any aid or comfort to my wrongs, but only my Lord Amadis, whom I now do see ready to depart from your service, for the wrong that you have done unto him, for which cause not desiring to forsake him, nor my Uncle Don Quedragant also, I do take my leave of you. Truly Landin answered the king, so far as I perceive we are assured that henceforth you have no desire to remain with us. Believe me if it like your Majesty said he, look what they are so will I be, for during my life will I obey them. At that instant there stood in a corner of the hall (whispering together) Don Brian of Moniasta, a most renowned knight, son to King Ladasan, and to one of the sisters to king Perion of Gaul, Vrlandin, son to the Earl of Orlanda, Grandores, and Madansill of Pont d'argent, Listoran of the white Tower, Leda● of Fryarqua, Tantilies' the haughty, and Don Gravat de Val Craintif. All these came unto the king and said. Your Majesty may be pleased to understand that the occasion of our coming hither was to see Amadis and his brethren, and to be their friends, if it were possible. And even as they were cause of the service that you have received of us, they also shall be the means that we will forsake you, and we do take leave of your grace to keep them company. When the king perceived that he was so suddenely forsaken of such a great number of good knights, he was highly displeased, for very spite he would not permit Amadis to go take his leave of the Queen, who (as much as in her lay) did wholly oppose herself against the counsel of Gandandell and his companion. And therefore Amadis entreated the ancient knight Don Grumedan to make his excuse unto her Majesty. Afterwards taking his leave of the king with great reverence, he retired unto his lodging with his friends and companions, where they found their dinner ready, and as soon as the Table was taken up, every one went to arm him, and they trouped altogether in a place where Oriana might behold them, and their number was so great, as they were thought to be slew hundred knights and more, the most part of them being Sons unto kings, dukes or earls. Afterwards in very good order they all passed along hard by the Queen's lodging. Then Mabila being in one of the windows called Oriana who was laid upon her bed as melancholy as might be, saying unto her, Madam, I pray you forget your heaviness, and come see how many knights you have at your commandment. All the while my cousin was in the service of the king your father, he was accounted but as a simple wandering knight, but no sooner is he departed from him when he showeth that he is a Prince and mighty Lord, as you may now behold, and if you have power over him, by greater reason have you power over all his troup, of whom he is the chief and principal Leader. Oriana was so greatly comforted with this sight, that ever after she was more merry and at better hearts case. In this sort did Amadis and his followers pass through the City, and there accompanied them king Arban of North wales, Grumedan, a knight of honour belonging to the Queen, Brandoinas, Queverant Giontes Nephew to the King, and Listoran the good iouster. All these were very sorry for the departure of so many good knights, especially for Amadis, who prayed them that in any matter wherein his honour might be blemished, they would show themselves to be such friends for him, as he esteemed them. And although the king (without any occasion) had conceived a hate against him, yet they should not cease for all that to be his friends, without forsaking the service of so good a prince, and they answered him that excepting their service and loyalty in the which they were by duty bound unto the king, they would be ready to pleasure him at all times and places, when and where he would employ them, for the which he heartily thanked them. Afterwards he said unto them, If you find the king fit to be spoken unto, you may advertise him that which Vrganda declared to me in his presence is now accomplished, for she told me that the recompense which I should have in gaining Dominions for another, should be hate, anger, and banishment from that place where most I desired to remain. I have conquered as every one knoweth with the edge of my sword, and the loss of my blood, the Isle of Monga●a, thereby enlarging the limits of the realm of great Britain, and notwithstanding all this, the king without cause at all, hath requited me with hate, but God is just, and will recompense every one according to his deserts.  
By my faith, answered Grumedan, I will not fail to let the King know as much as you have said. And cursed be Vrganda for prophesing so right, which said, they embraced one another and took their leave, but Guillan the pensif whose eyes were full of tears, said unto Amadis. My Lord, you know my occasion, and how I cannot of myself do any thing, being subject so the will of another, for whose sake I suffer and endure strange griefs and anguishes, which is the cause that I cannot follow you, for which I am very sorry and ashamed, so great a desire have I to acknowledge the favour and honour that I have received of you, being in your company, beseeching you most humbly at this time to hold me excused. Now did Amadis understand in what subjection love did hold him, and he knew very well by himself what pain he might suffer, by means whereof he answered him: My Lord Guillan, God forbid that by my occasion you should commit any offence unto the Lady whom you love so constantly, but I rather counsel you to be obedient unto her, and to serve her as hitherto you have done, and the King likewise being sure that your honour saved, you will be unto me in all places a faithful friend and loving companion. Heerewithall he embraced him, & taking his leave, Guillan and his fellows returned unto the City, and Amadis and his followed on their way to the Firmeisland, until at the last they arrived along by a river, upon the side whereof Amadis had sent before to cause his Tents and Pavilions to be armed and set up. There they lodged for that night, praising God in that they had so happily been warned of the King's ingratitude, with whom if they had remained any longer, space, they had but lost their time. But Amadis was so heavy for his banishment from Oriana (ignorant when he should see her again) that he knew not in what sort to dissemble his melancholy, and thus they passed away the night until the next morning, that they had rode forward on their way. In the mean time King Lisuart was in his Palace, who after the departure of so great a number of Knights, perceived that he now was but meanly accompanied. Then he began to acknowledge the fault which he had committed, and to repent him greatly for the words which he said unto Amadis. At the very self same time, Gandandel and Br●cada● were advertised what Angriotta had said of them, whereat they were marvelously abashed, fearing lest the King and the rest should dislike of the bad counsel, which they had gived unto him, nevertheless, since there was no remedy: they determined to pass it over, and to work such means that never any of those Knights who were departed should enter into the King his favour again. And the better to bring it to pass, they both came unto him, saying. Your Majesty ought greatly to praise God, that you are so honestly rid of those men who might have wrought you much mischief, for your highness knoweth there is nothing more dangerous than a secret enemy.  
Wherefore you have now no other thing to trouble you, neither need you take any care for your affairs, because that we two will take order, and warily provide for any peril that may happen to this Realm. When the king heard them speak so audaciously, he looked upon them with a sour countenance, and answered them: I do much marvel how you dare be so presumptuous to persuade me that I should leave unto you the government, not only of my house, but also of my whole realm, knowing that you are nothing fit, nor sufficient for such a charge. Do you imagine that the Princes and Lords of this monarchy will obey you, knowing the place from whence you are descended? And if you think to play the good husbands, desiring to enrich me by sparing of my treasure, upon whom do you think that I may better employ it, then upon such Gentlemen and knights as are in my service? Seeing that the Prince cannot be named a king, but only because he hath many at his commandment. And if in times past I have showed myself liberal unto those whom at your instance I have driven away, even by them was I maintained, feared, and redoubted, and therefore content you with that you have done, without any farther dissembling & forging of matters, otherwise you shall know that you nothing please me therewith.  
Saying so he left them, much abashed at these words, and he mounted on horseback to go chase a hart which his hunters told him was enclosed within his toils. As these things were in doing there arrived at the Court a D●…mosell that was sent from Queen Briolania unto Oriana, who after she had done her duty, said unto her, Madam the Queen my Mistress hath her commended to your good Grace. And she 〈◊〉 expressly sent me unto you, to declare unto you at large how she hath been in the firm Island, and what happened unto he in proving the adventures which there she found.  
God keep so good a Queen from mischief, answered Oriana, and you also that have taken so much pain. Then all the Ladies and Gentlewomen desirous to hear news, came round about her, and the damosel began to rehearse that which she had seen, saying. Madam, at the departing from this Court, the Queen my Mistress and her company, arrived the fifth day following in the Firmeisland, where so soon as she was come, she was demanded if it pleased her to prove the forbidden Chamber or the Arch of loyal Lovers, but she answered that she would first see the other marvels of the place. And for that cause Isania caused her to be conducted to a most fair house, situated half a league or thereabout, from the principal Palace of Apolidon, in the which after she had a little while walked, beholding the excellent building thereof, she came unto one of the corners of a Park which was very dark and deep, that none durst approach unto the same, so fearful a thing was it. Afterward my Lady was brought into a most fa●r Tower, well furnished with windows, from whence she might see all the ways round about her, and there we were so well served and entreated as might be. And as the second service was brought in, we did see come forth of that deep ditch, a great serpent, which did cast fire and smoke as well from her eyes and ears, as from her throat, who came and entered into this Tower, showing a countenance so furious, that the stoutest in the company trembled with great fear, after him there suddenly followed two Lions, who in like sort came forth of this ditch, they came leaping in and assailed the Serpent, herewithal there began a battle between them, the cruellest that may possibly be seen between brute beasts, and it lasted half an hour and more, and so long continued it, that the two Lions became so weary as they fell down in the place as if they had been dead, & the Serpent likewise so out of breath, that he remained a great while lying upon the ground. In the end having rested a little, he rose up and swallowed one of the Lions down his throat, and carried him into the ditch, and presently after he returned, & did the like unto the second, and were no more seen all the day after. Those of the Isle (accustomed to such wonders) beholding our fear laughed at us, assuring us that all the day long we should see no other novelty. Whereupon we began to laugh at our folly, reproaching one another, for the affright that had happened unto us, & thus we passed all the afternoon until it was bed time, that my Lady and we her women were brought into a chamber richly hanged, in the which we were all laid. But about midnight, we did hear our chamber door open with so great noise, that we awaked with great fear thereof, and therewithal we saw entering in a Hart, one side of whom was as white as snow, and the other side more black than a raven: having upon his head thirty horns, upon every one of which there was a burning candle, which gave so great a light, that one might have seen as plain within the chamber, as if it had been broad day. The Hart entered in running with great force, for he was pursued by a cry of swift hounds, that laboured to overtake him, and encourage them thereunto, there was heard an ivory home sounding after the beast, who in the end was so hardly pursued, that after he had long turned about the chamber, he leapt upon our beds even through the midst of us. The fear whereof made us to cry, and suddenly to rise up, all naked as we were, some of us ran under the beds, others under the benches, but the more we thought to save ourselves, the more were we pursued by the Hart and hounds that followed him, till at the last he ran toward the windows, afterwards being a little better assured, we took up our apparel which was fallen down upon the ground, and we began to chat of the fear which we had. And as we were in these terms, there came a damosel, accompanied with two other women, who asked us what moved us to rise so early. By my faith said my Lady, we have had such an alarm, that my heart yet trembleth with fear. This damosel smiled and said unto her, that she and we might sleep in safety, for we should have no more stir all the night after. Whereupon we laid us down in our bed, and there we remained until it was indifferent late the next morning, when my Lady caused us to rise up, and after we had heard service, as she walked in a great meadow watered with many pleasant brooks going through a pleasant and delectable wood where we found at the end thereof many pleasant orchards, and a house very round, set upon twelve pillars of Marble, so artificially wrought, that in stead of stone and mortar, the walls thereof were of fine Crystal, through the which they that were within, might easily see those without, and there was never a door thereof which was not of Gold or Silver. And (that which was most admirable) there was about it many Images of copper, made in the likeness of Giants, each of them holding in their hands a bended bow, and an arrow therein, the head whereof was of such a burning brightness, that it seemed fire came out thereof. And it was told us that no sooner was any so hardy to enter therein, but presently he should be slain by the arrows which by them are shot, whereupon my Lady was desirous to make proof thereof, by a Horse and two Apes, who being put into the Chamber were presently consumed by the fire, proceeding from these Arrows that compassed them about. And there was graven upon the portal these words. Let no man nor woman be so hardy as to set foot within this Palace, except it be he or she that loveth as constantly as Grimanesa and Apolidon, that made this enchantment. And they must of necessity enter in both together for the first time, otherwise let them be assured to die most cruelly, and this enchantment shall last, and all the rest of this Island, until that the knight & Lady (who do surpass in loyalty those that made the defences of the forbidden Chamber) be entered in, and there have taken their pleasure. Hereupon my Lady caused Isania to be called, and told him she was glad that she had seen these wonders, but she would yet see the Arch of loyal Lovers, and the chamber so renowned, and in the mean season, she desired him to tell her what was meant by the Hart, Serpent, Dogs and Lions, Madam answered Isania, I know no other thing thereof, but that every day at those hours and places that you did see them, the combats of the beasts are made, and the Hart doth always leap down from the window, and the Dogs after, who pursue him into a Lake not far from hence, where they are hidden and seen no more until the next day and hour that the chase beginneth again, as you have seen it this night past. But thus much you shall know, that if you were one whole year in this Island, yet should you not have time enough to see all the wonderful things which there are. For this cause my Lady and her company mounted on horseback, and we came unto the Palace of Apolidon to see the arch of loyal Lovers and the forbidden Chamber. Whereunto my Lady was no sooner come but she alighted, and approached unto the Image of copper (as she that had never falsified her love) and passing under, there was heard the most sweet, and melodious tune in all the world, and the Queen passed through even unto the place where the portraitures of Apolidon and Grimanesa were, which seemed unto her as though they had been alive. And from thence she came unto the pillar of jasper, where she saw written these words. Briolania the daughter to Tagadan king of Sobradisa, is the third damosel that did ever enter into this place. But as my Ladylooked round about her in all places she was afraid, seeing that she was alone: therefore without long tarrying there, she returned unto us that stayed for her, and for this time she would make no farther proof until the 5. day following, that she did put on the richest, and costliest apparel that in all her life she had ever worn, & letting her hair hang down, which were the fairest that ever nature framed, she had upon her head, no more than a border of Gold garnished with many precious stones, the which did become her so well, and made her seem so saire, that as well her own followers as strangers did plainly say, that without doubt she would finish the adventures of the Isle: her eupon recommending herself unto God, she entered upon the forbidden path, and passing the brass pillar, she came close unto the other of Marble, where she read the Letters that were graven thereupon, afterwards she marched on farther, so that every one did then judge that she would enter into the chamber without any difficulty. When Oriana heard that Briolania had passed so far, she began to blush and change her natural colour, in such sort that one might easily have known the great alteration of her mind, fearing that Briolania had passed no farther, thereby ending the adventure of the forbidden chamber. But the damosel proceeding forward in her discourse, said, you must know that so soon as the Queen came within three paces of the chamber she was taken so rudely by her fair and golden hairs, that without all respect of pity, she was thrown out with such force beyond the pillar that she remained in aswond a long time, as many others had done before her: whereupon we suddenly took her up, and carried her unto her chamber, where shortly after she recovered, and she determined the next morning to depart from thence. The which she did, taking the way to Sobradisa. Nevertheless she had before commanded me to come unto this Court, to advertise you of that which I have declared. Truly damosel said Oriana, the Queen your Mistress hath done much for me. Madam, said the damosel, she hath expressly charged me to return unto her incontinently, wherefore it may please you to give me leave to depart. Fair Damofel said Oriana, you shall see the Queen, & then to morrow morning you shall depart. Well Madam said she, I am content to obey you. Now about this time Amadis and his fellows arrived at the Firmeisland, where they were most royally entertained and received by all those of the country, who were exceeding glad for the recovery of their new lord, whom they had thought to havebeen lost. And after that these knights (who had followed Amadis) had well viewed the Isle, and seen the fertility, and the invincible situation thereof, they judged that king Lisuart nor any other prince could be of power sufficient as once to dare come and assail them. For besides the force of the country, it was furnished with many cities & towns, and beautified with four Castles, the most sumptuous and magnificent that were in all the world beside. In one of them might a man behold the sport of the Hart chased by the Dogs, in the other, the Combat between the Lions and the Serpent, then in the third, the tower which made the turning pavilion, for four times a day it turned so fast, that those which were therein did think that it would sink: Lastly in the sourth was the pastime of the baited Bul: who coming forth of an old ditch, passed over the people that stood in his way, and did come running with his horns against a gate of iron with such force, that he overthrew it, and opened a Tower, from whence there came forth an old Ape, so wrinkled that his skin hanged down on all parts of him, the which held a whip, wherewith he nimbly chased the Bull even unto the ditch, from whence he came forth. In all these four Castles did Amadis and his fellows oftentimes take their pastime, for the strange sights that there they saw. And in this sort did these knights pass the time away, staying until fortune did offer them some new occasion to arm themselves, the which shortly after she did: for Balais Carsanta (whom Amadis had heretofore delivered from the prisons of Arcalaus) came unto him, from the Court of King's Lisuart, who after he had declared unto them many novels, he told them how king Lisuart was preparing an army to pass into the Isle of Mongaza, for Grumedaca had made answer unto the Earl Latin (who was sent with the old Giant and his sons, to take possession of the country) that she would sooner consent unto the death of herself and all the world, before she would yield up the Burning lake, and the three strong Castles which she held, and that they should do with her Daughter Madasima and the other Damosels what they would. I pray you said Agraics tell us what countenance the King showed, hearing such an answer. By my faith answered Balais, he is determined to put all to fire and sword if he be resisted, and within a month after, to cause the heads of the pledges which he holdeth to be smitten off. Truly said Amadis, he may do what he please, but if he used more courtesy, it were perchance better for him.  
When Galuanes whom (I have said) Cupid had deprived of all liberty, to make him a lover, and servant unto this Madasima, understood the outrage that was likely to be offered unto her, his courage increased in such sort, that in great choler he said. My Lords, here is not any of you knoweth not that my Lord Amadis and we are all departed from the Court of king Lisuart, especially for the bad usage that he hath offered unto Madasima, unto whom I bear such love, as a husband should unto his wife, and therefore I beseech you very earnestly to aid and assist me, for I have promised to stick to her and to help her, though I should die in the quarrel. Then Florestan (understanding the aid which Galuanes demanded) had not the patience to let any other answer before him, but rose up saying. My Lord Galuanes if it were possible to make a peace for her with the king that were the best course: but I assure you, if we must make it with our swords, I am always ready to assist you, My Lord answered Briam of Moniasta, we do all very well know, that you are both valiant & hardy knights, nevertheless this enterprise which you determine, toucheth you no more in particular, than it doth all us in general, for we are departed from the King's service all upon one occasion: and therefore it is reason that all of us should succour him that hath most need of help. And although we had no desire to aid Don Galuanes here present, yet are we bound to favour Ladies in all that we can, and amongst other Madasima and hers, assuring you that through my fault they shall neither have hurt nor displeasure. By my faith said Quedragant, you speak virtuously, and according to good reason, for doing otherwise we should be unworthy of the name of knights, and although I were myself alone yet would I seek aid to execute that which you have determined: knowing that the poor Madasima (forsaken of every one) hath freely yielded herself into the King his prisons, not by her own will, but by the dutiful obedience which she desired to show unto her mother: For which cause if the king pretend any right unto the lands of the Isle of Mongaza, I say he doth wrong. My Lords answered Amadis, those things which are debated by sound deliberation, do assuredly come unto good end, & you need not doubt that enterprising this which you determine, you shall perform it unto your honour, yea although it were more dangerous and difficult than it is, nevertheless (if it please you) I will declare what I think thereof. You do all conclude (so far as I see) to set at liberty the twelve Damosels now prisoners with king Lisuart. Therefore I am of the opinion that twelve of you without any more should undertake this enterprise, so every one of you shall have one of them, and the twelve gentlewomen shall be particularly bound unto twelve knights, and the rest of this company shall spare themselves, and tarry here to prevent such inconveniencies as may happen.  
Me thinks that Galuanes unto whom this matter doth chiefly appertain, deserveth well to be the first man that shall be named, next Agraies his nephew, Florestan my brother, Palomir, Dragonis, Brian, Nicoran, Orlandid, Garnat, Imosil brother to the Duke of Burgoine, Madansil, and Eaderin. You twelve are such valiant knights as you may answer twelve others whatsoever they be, and King Lisuart cannot deny the combat although it should be against the chiefest of his Realm, considering the houses from which you are descended. This counsel was so well allowed of all, that about midnight following, the twelve knights mounted on horseback, taking their way unto the City of Thassillana, in the which the King sojourned.   

CHAP. XXII.  
How Oriana remained in great perplexity, not only for the departure of Amadis, but also because she felt herself great with child: and of that which happened to the twelve Knights that were departed from the Firmeisland, to deliver Madasima and her Damosels.  
A Little before it hath been told unto you, how Amadis remained eight days in Mirefleur with Oriana, contenting their affections and desires to the full: in such sort as two months after, or there about, the Princess doubted that she was with child, nevertheless for the little experience that she had in such matters, she made no account thereof, until after the departure of Amadis, when the lively colour in her face began to fade and decay, and her stomach waxed very bad, and weak, so that this doubt was turned into a certainty, wherefore she determined to acquaint Mabila and the damosel of Denmark therewith, as unto those whom she esteemed the true treasurers of her secrets. For which cause being one day withdrawn into her closet, having her eyes full of tears, and her heart oppressed with grief, she said unto them: Alas my dear friends and loving counsellors, I do now well perceive that Fortune will wholly work my ruin and overthrow: You have seen what in convenience hath happened of late unto the person whom I do most love in the world, and now (that which is worst of all) the thing which I have most feared and doubted, is lighted upon me: For certainly I am with child, and I know not what I shall do, that I be not discovered and undone. Much abashed were these two Damosels at this: nevertheless (as those which were wise & well advised) they dissembled that which they thought thereof. And Mabila answered Oriana: Take no care Madam, God shall provide well enough for you, (if it please him) but by my faith, (said she in smiling) I always doubted that unto such a Saint such an offering would be brought. Oriana smiled to see with what a pretty grace Mabila delivered this pleasant speech, & answered her: For the honour of God do you both advise to give me some remedy, and then you shall see if I cannot requite your frumps. As for me I think it best, that we find the means to retire unto Mireflure, or elsewhere from the Court, staying the time, until it shall please God to regard me in pity: for I feel my belly to rise, and I see my face already waxen lean. Madam said the damosel of Denmark, it is an easy matter to prevent an inconvenience, when it is foreseen before it happen: I will tell you answered the Princess) whereupon I have bethought me: It is necessary that you (damosel) do hazard your life for the saving of my honour. You see that I do put more trust in you, then in any other person that liveth. Madam said she, you know (or at the least you should know me so well) that I have neither life nor honour which I hold so dear, that I would not adventure to do you service. I believe it answered Oriana, and also you may be assured that if God do lend me life and health, I will acknowledge and requite it to the full: wherefore depart to morrow morning, and get you to Mirefleur, find the means to speak with the Abbess, & tell her that you are with child, praying her earnestly to keep your counsel as secret as she would do her own, and that she would do you that good as to find out some woman, to nurse the fruit that God shall send you, the which you shall cause to be laid within the entry of her Church porch, as a thing found by chance. I am sure that she loveth you as much as any woman living, and she will willingly do this good turn for you: By this means shall my honour be saved, and yours little or nothing the worse. Repose yourself upon me said the damosel, I will play this part well enough, and therefore be you merry: In the mean season do you purchase leave for your departure, and follow me. These and such like were the consultations of these three Damosels, whom we will for the present leave, to return unto king Lisuart, who after that the Earl Latin was returned back again, and that he had declared unto him how Grumadaca the old Gyantesse, was not determined to yield the Castle of the burning Lake, nor the three strong places whereof we have spoken: he (by the counsel of Broquadan and Gandandel) sent for Madasima to come unto him, unto whom he said: Damosel, you know how you and your women are entered into my prisons upon this condition, that if your mother did nor yield into my hands the Isle of Mongaza, with the burning Lake, & the other places thereunto belonging, your heads should answer me for it. And because I have been of late certified by those which I sent thither, of the refusal which she hath made, I will make you an example of it, that every one thereby may see what a matter of importance it is, not to keep promise with a King: for you shall all die. When the poor Lady heard this conclusion so rigorous, the fair vermilion colour of her face was suddenly changed into a pale and deadly hue, and falling at the king his feet she answered him, If it like your Majesty, the death which you threaten unto me, doth so much trouble my spirits, that I have no means nor power to make you an answer. But if there be any in this company that taketh pity upon twelve poor distressed Damosels, I do most humbly beseech him to take our quarrel in hand: for if I have entered into your prison, I did it by the commandment of my mother, and they by my persuasions did the like. And although that by reason every Gentleman bearing arms, is bound to maintain the right of afflicted women, if (by misfortune) we cannot find any that taketh compassion of our misery, yet it may please your Majesty (mitigating the rigour of your laws) to extend your mercy, and to hear us in our justifications, as reason and equity willeth. When Gandandel heard Madasima speak so boldly, he suddenly answered, saying unto the King, if it please your Majesty, there is no reason that these women should be suffered thus to plead, for if you cause them not to die, every one will do as they do, never performing any thing that they do promise unto you. They are come hither as pledges, nothing ignorant of the conditions: wherefore then shall there be any wrong done unto them, to cut off their heads, for not yielding that which they have promised? My Lord Gandandell, answered the good knight Grumedan, if it please the King, his Majesty shall not do as you counsel him: for mercy is more commendable in a King than cruelty, which he may use when it pleaseth him. You know that these women, more by the commandment of a mother, and the obedience of a child, then by any their own wills, have been constrained to yield themselves prisoners, as they are, and even as God loveth those that are humble and dutiful, so also the King who is his minister, ought not to despise them. Moreover I have been advertised that certain knights are already departed from the Firmeisland, to maintain their quarrel against you, and the right which they have: and therefore my Lord Gandandel, if you or your sons dare maintain this counsel which you do give unto the King for good, it may be you may find, that you or they which shall have to do with them, shall not be all at their best ease. Gandandel hearing Grumedan to speak so virtuously, could willingly have wished the words unspoken, which he uttered so lightly: but now it was too late to remedy that which was past help, wherefore to save his honour, he answered. Dan Grumedan, you seek to purchase me displeasure, and yet have I not any way deserved it of you. As touching my sons there is not any in this company, who knoweth them not for valiant and bold knights, and such as will maintain before all and against all men, that this which I have said unto the King, is according to right and equity. We shall shortly see what they will do said Grumedan: but upon mine honour, I speak not this in that I wish you any hurt, but only because it seemeth unto me that you counsel the King amiss. Now did the King certainly know that against all right, and without any cause at all, he had banished Amadis, notwithstanding his ancient virtue could not banish this new passion, but hearing Grumedan speak so wisely, he willingly gave ear unto him: and afterwards demanded of him who were the knights that came for Madasima. Grumedan named them all unto him one after another. Truly said the King, for so small a number they are men of worth, and valiant knights. Gandandel did now very well perceive, that his affairs were like to prosper worse and worse: knowing his two sons to be no such men as to match or compare with Don Florestan, Agraies, Brian, or Garnet of the fearful valley. Wherefore so soon as the King had sent the Damosels back again to prison, he went to seek out Brocadan, unto whom he wholly recited all that which Grumedan had said unto the king in his presence, at which he was no less amazed than he, whereupon they both retired into a chamber, that they might more privately confer together. And as they were in this consultation, & that Brocadan, reproved Gandandel, cursing the hour that ever he was advised by him, to bring Amadis into these terms: a young knight named Sarquiles, cozen unto Angriotta de Estranaux (being in love with one of the Nieces of Broquadan) was by chance hidden behind the▪ Tapestry of the same chamber, staying for some sign or watch word, which was to be given unto him by his loving Mistress, he I say heard all their counsel, whereat he was wonderful abashed. For which cause incontinently after the traitors were departed, he came forth from his place, where he had almost all that day been hidden: and the next morning he armed him, and as if he had been come some far journey, he entered into the Palace where the king was, unto whom he came and said: If it may please your Majesty, I am none of your subject nor liege man, but in requital of the bringing up and education that I have had in your Court, I am bound to preserve and defend the honour of your Majesty. Wherefore your highness may be pleased, to be advertised that within these three days, I was in such a place, where I heard that Broquadan and Gandandel did not only then conspire (but already had committed against God and your grace) the greatest treason that might be imagined. It is sure that they determined to counsel & persuade you to put Madasima and her gentlewomen to death, and for the rest I hope if it like your Majesty, before ten days be past, that their wickedness shallbe wholly laid open & proved unto you. And because that in maintaining such traitors, you have of late banished my Lord Amadis, and many other good knights from your company, I am not determined to stay any longer with you, and therefore I take my leave of your grace, to go seek out my Uncle Angriotta, whom (if God please) you shall see in these parts, and I with him, determined to avouch by force of arms against these two traitors, their unjust conspiracies. God be with you (answered the king) seeing that you have so great haste. Herewithal Sarquiles rose up, leaving the king alone very pensive for the words which he had said unto him, and some few days after he arrived in the Firmeisland, as Amadis, Angriotta, Bruneo, and others were walking by the Sea side, causing certain ships to be prepared and rigged, to pass into Gaul: where king Perion had sent unto Amadis that he should come for certain affairs which were lately happened unto him. When Angriotta beheld his Nephew Sarquiles, he wondered thereat, enquiring of him why he had left king Lisuart. My Lord, answered Sarquiles, it is for a matter whereat you & all this company will greatly admire. Hereupon he received unto them the whole discourse of the practices and counsels that Broquadan and Gandandel had held upon the accusation of Amadis & his companions. Well answered Angriotta, I did always think so of them. And you my Lord, said he unto Amadis, do now find that to be true which I have here-tofore told you: But seeing it is so, I protest they shall repent their treachery: for I will depart hence tomorrow morning to go and fight with them, and make them acknowledge their villainy. Gentle friend answered Amadis, the matter being so certain as it is, you have no reason to defer the execution of your enterprise: and if you had any sooner performed that which you now determine, it had been (perchance) with less assurance than you now have. And after many other discourses they went unto their lodging, until the next morning that Angriotta took his leave of Amadis, and accompanied with his Nephew Sarquiles, took the right way towards great Britain, where within few days after he arrived. Now you must understand that ever since the departure of Amadis, king Lisuart was so melancholy as no man could be more, and he spent all the day long in studying with himself: whereof one time above all the rest, Broquadan and Gandandel seeing him alone very pensive, came unto him and said. May it please your Majesty, it seemeth unto us, that the over great care which you take in these your affairs, depriveth you of your wont manner of life, and you take matters more to heart than you need. It may well be answered the king, but what mean you to tell me so? Is it (if it like your Majesty) said they, for doubt of those that come from the Firmeisland, in the defence of Madasima and her Damosels? by the faith we owe unto God, if it please your grace to credit our counsel, you and your estate shall be henceforth in greater security than ever yet it hath been. And to bring that to pass, command the heads of those pledges which you have, this day to be smitten off: Then afterwards send unto Galuanes and the rest of his compapanie (your enemies) that upon their lives they be not once so hardy as to enter into your countries, and if by chance they be already arrived, command them forthwith to depart, or otherwise you will cause them to be cut in pieces. When the King heard this wicked speech, and ungodly counsel of theirs, he remembered that which Sarquiles had told unto him, & therewithal he knew that without doubt these two traitors did with wrong procure the death of these Damosels: notwithstanding because he would not at that time amaze them, he only answered this. You counsel me to things far unfitting my estate: the one that I should without process or order of justice, put Madasima and her Damosels to death: and the other, that I should forbid from my Court those knights that are minded to come thither. But if I should do this which you say, I might be grievously reproved for it before God, who hath by his great bounty and mercy instituted me King, to administer justice unto every one alike: therefore the counsel which you do give unto me, is wicked and unworthy to be received. Let it suffice you therefore that I have already listened unto you in the accusation which you have contrived against Amadis, whereof I do greatly repent me: for I never received of him, nor any of his, but all honour, pleasure, & service, wherefore I charge you upon your lives, that you move me no more thereof.  
Saying so he rose up, showing by his countenance that he was very angry, whereat Gandandel and Broquadan were greatly abashed, and they were constrained to depart unto their lodging, to determine what was best for them to be done, seeing that already fortune had marvelously crossed them, & they came not in the King his presence all that day after until the next morning, when they attended upon him as he road into the fields. The King being half a league from the City, he beheld coming toward him the knights of the Firmeisland, for the delivery of Madasima and her Damosels, being come somewhat near they all did their duties to his Majesty. Then Galuanes who marched foremost, took upon him to speak for all his fellows, saying unto the King. If it like your Majesty, we (being all of us well assured of your accustomed virtue) are come to demand justice of your grace for Madasima and her Damosels, and to defend their right if by force of arms it is defensible. My friends, answered he, seeing that you have already set up your Tents in this place, if you think good you may here abide for this day, and to morrow you may come unto me, to advise upon that which shall be reasonable to be done. If it please your highness, said Brian of Moniasta, we all are assured that accorto your, ancient royal behaviour, justice shall not be denied unto us, and if we find it otherwise, it is rather by the counsel of some wicked traitors that are about you, than any of your own motion. Brian, Brian, said the King, I am well assured that if you had believed your father, you would neither have departed from my service (as you have done) neither would you in this sort have held argument against me. The argument which I do hold against your Majesty, said Brian, is not for any ill will, or that I would not perform any dutiful service for your grace, for I know well that in time you will acknowledge that which I say true. And where your Majesty doth tell me that if I had believed my father, I would not have forsaken you, saving thereverence of your Majesty I did never forsake you, for I never did belong unto you: but I only came into your house to seek my cousin Amadis, who so long as he was yours, so long had I a desire to serve you, and never did I whilst I there remained offend you, Well, well, answered the King, we will debate of this another time more at large. Which said, he bade them good night, and departed: for it was already somewhat late. Heretofore you have heard how the King had the day before, after dinner, taken up Gandandel and Broquadan, who being very heavy, did consult a great while how they might with honour finish theyt wicked enterprise, for the next morning the twelve Knights of the Firmeisland met the King at Church, who after service was ended, called Broquadan and Gandandel, unto whom he said. You have of long time counseled me to put Madasima and her Damosels to death, being our prisoners, and that in their behalf I should hear no justification whatsoever. Therefore you must now make answer unto that which these 12 Knights will maintain. Then Imosell of Burgoine stepped forth, saying unto the King. If it like your Majesty, I and my fellows are come into your Court to beseech you most humble, that you would extend your justice and mercy to Madasima and her Damosels. Whereupon Gandandel stepped forth and answered: My Lord Imosel, you request that justice should be extended to Madasima, and so far as I perceive, you twelve will maintain, that they ought to be heard in their justifications, but by the faith that I owe unto the King, if he consent thereunto he doth amiss, considering under what condition they are entered into his prison.  
Believe me Gandandel said Imosel, had you held your peace you had done but your duty, for the king hath not yet commanded you to speak, & also because you know that by the custom of great Britain no woman ought to suffer death, except it be in two cases, the one for Leze majesty, the other for treason. But there is not any in this company, who knoweth not how these poor women were brought into the king his hands, more by compulsion then their own consent. Therefore we beseech your Majesty and you my Lords all to consider of the matter, for reason and pity are most fit to be used therein. You are to blame answered Gandandel, to request a thing so unreasonable, and seeing it hath pleased the king to hear us both, let him order the matter as to his majesty shall seem most convenient. Then the king caused every one to depart, & called some of the most principal of the realm unto him, and amongst others his Uncle the Earl Argamont, an ancient & most virtuous Prince, unto whom he said, Good Uncle, I pray you and all the rest also, to counsel me upon this controversy. But there was not any that would speak their opinion, before they had heard the king. Seeing it is so said the king, you shall presently know mine opinion, It seemeth unto me Imosel of Burgundy hath both reasonable and wisely spoken, and that the Damosels ought to be heard, what they they can say in their own defence. Truly if it like your Majesty, said the old Earl, you speak like a virtuous king, and it is not possible to give a righter judgement, of which opinion they were all. Wherefore he commanded Gandandel & Broquadan to be sent for, and in the presence of the knights of the Firmeisland, he gave the same sentence, for the which they humbly thanked his majesty, beseeching him that Madastma & her women might be set at liberty. For we hope said they, to have them acquitted either by reason or arms. It is well said answered the king, who sent for the Damosels to come unto him, and afterward said unto them, Look up Ladies, behold these Gentlemen which will defend your right, will you be content to put your quarrel and adventure your lives upon their force. Alas if it like your Majesty answered Madasima, seeing it pleaseth them to afford us this good, we do put our lives into their hands, and your good mercy. Trust me Madam said Imosel, If there be any here which will gainsay that you are not delivered and set at liberty, behold me ready to prove the contrary, & if there be twelve together of the like opinion, we are twelve likewise that will hazard our lives for yours. Therewithal the king did cast his eyes upon Gandandel and Broquadan, and he perceived that they hanged down their heads, looking upon the ground, so much amazed, that they were not able to answer one word, wherefore the king said unto the knights of the Isle. My Lords, I pray you to withdraw yourselves for this day, and to morrow you shall have answer of those with whom you are to deal. Where-upon they all departed, and presently after the king called apart Broquadan & Gandandel, unto whom he said, come hither, you know that many times you have solicited me to put these poor Damosels to death, persuading me that it was just and reason so to do, and that if need were you & your sons would maintain this counsel unto the death. You have heard what Imosel and his fellows have said unto me, which I do think to be good & right, wherefore it is time that you determine what to do. For by the faith that I owe unto God, I will not permit that any other of my knights shall fight with them, & if you look not unto it, you shall be answerable for all, and the Damosels delivered. If it please your Majesty, answered they, to morrow we will be ready to maintain whatsoever we have said. And for that time they departed to their lodging, greatly troubled for that which they were to do. Nevertheless, seeing that now there was no remedy, they determined to persever in their daurned opinion by argument of words only, without putting themselves or their children in danger: knowing assuredly that they were not able to resist any of those that were come from the Firmeisland. But it happened out so well for them, as the very same night news came unto the King, that Grumedaca the old Giantess was dead, and that a little before her death, she had yielded up her strong places into the hands of the king's people, beseeching him to have pity upon her daughter Madasima.  
Whereupon the next morning at their return from church, he caused the twelve knights of the Firmeisland to be called, unto whom he said. My friends, you may carry away with you the Damosels which you demand, when it shall please you, for I set them at liberty, because that this night the Earl Latin hath written unto me, that he hath the Isle of Mongaza in his hands, and that the old Giantess is deceased. If any were glad here-of, you may believe that the two traitors Broquadan and Gandandel were nothing sorry, for as much as they did perceive that if this had not happened, their treason had bid discovered. Then Imosel answered the king. If your Majesty do but Madasima right, she must not remain poor nor disinherited, seeing your grace knoweth that children are bound to obey their parents as she hath done, more by fear then free will. And so if it please your Majesty, using your accustomed liberality, you should show her some grace and favour, showing thereby an example to all other virtuous and courageous Princes to do the like. Imosel, said the king, let it suffice you that the Damosels are at liberty, for I cannot revoke the gift which I have made to my daughter Leonor, of the land which you demand. I most humbly beseech your Majesty, answered Galuanes, to have pity upon her and me, who at this present aught to hold the place descended from her ancestors, of whom she is the lawful inheretrix, especially of the land which you do take from her: and if it please your highness, in remembrance of the services which I have done unto you, you may restore them unto us to hold them of your grace by fealty and homage. I have said enough my Lord Galuanes, answered the king, that which is done, cannot be undone. Trust me, answered he, seeing I can neither have right nor reason of you, I will try if I may get it some other way. Do what you can, said the king, I am in good hope seeing I have won if from greater than you, to descend it against those that are less than they. Sir, answered Galuanes, he which got it for you, hath been very badly recompensed therefore. Care not you for that, said the King, if he of whom you speak dare but adventure to aid you, I dare be so bold as to withstand him, and to make him beshrew himself. Agraies hearing these threats, was exceeding angry, and in great choler answered: Sir, although my Lord Amadis was never other than a wandering knight, yet did he that good for you which as yet you never recompensed, for he hath many times defended you, and delivered you from death. Florestan did well perceive that Agraies entered into farther terms than was fit he should, for which cause he a little pulled him back, and said unto the king. Sir, although you be a king and a great Lord, yet it may be you shall find somewhat to do, to use my Lord Amadis in such sort as you threaten him. By my faith, said Brian, Amadis hath done you too many services to be thus badly requited, especially he being son unto a Prince as worthy as yourself. Soft and fair Don Brian, said the king, we know well enough that you are one of his friends. I am and so ought to be, said Brian, for every one knoweth that I am his cousin german, and therefore it were a shame not to succour him in his need. Truly, answered the King, for the same cause do I hold you excused. And as they were in these terms, Angriotta de Estravaux, & Sarquiles his Nephew came before the King, who being armed at all points, did their duty unto his Majesty: but when the knights of the Firmeisland did behold them, they greatly wondered, for they knew nothing at all of this their enterprise. Then Angriotta with a loud voice began his speech in this manner. May it please your Majesty, my Nephew and I here present, do beseech your grace to cause two traitors that are in your Court; Broquadan and Gandandel, to appear before your Majesty, unto whom I will declare the treason which they have done against you. Much affrighted was Broquadan and his companion, hearing Angriotta speak after this manner; who continuing his speech said: If it like your highness, these two wicked persons of whom I speak, without respect or fear of God or men, have faisly accused my Lord Amadis & other of a matter wherein they never so much as in thought offended. By means whereof I dare well say, that you have banished from you the best Knights that ever entered, into Great Britain, therefore if: those traitors dare maintain that they be not such as I term the●● I alone, by the help of God, and the edge of my sword will make them confess it. And if they ought to be excused by reason of their age, there is neither of them both which hath not a son of long time bearing arms, and well enough esteemed of amongst the Knights of your court, against whom I will fight if they will maintain the quarrel of their wicked fathers. Most mighty sovereign, answered Gandandel, doth not your grace see the boldness of this proud injurious fellow, who is come into this country to no other end, but only to shame the Gentlemen of your court? By my faith if your Majesty would have believed me long ago, so soon as he had entered into your Realm, he should have been hanged up, upon the first tree that he had come unto, but seeing that your grace doth suffer him, you must not hereafter be abashed if Amadis in his own person do come even hither to injury your own self. Notwithstanding, thus much I protest, that by the living God, if I were as young now as when I began to enter into the service of the late deceased king your brother, unto whom I have done many great services, I am well assured that Angriotta durst not so much as have dreamt to utter half these injurious words of me, as he hath proffered now before your Majesty. But the gallant doth well know that I am old and erased, as well by the great number of my aged years, as by the infinite wounds which I have received, in a manner in all the parts of my body, in the wars of your predecessors, witness whereof are yet these relics. Saying so he 〈…〉 his breast, upon the which were many scars apparrantly to be ●…ne. Villain, said Angriotta, 〈…〉 think to defend thee with the eloquence of thy tongue. But by the faith of a Knight, if the King do but justice unto us both, he shall apparrantly perceive thy great treason. Therewith all Sarquiles stepped forth and kneeling down, he said unto the King: It is long since I did advertise your Majesty, that so soon as my Lord Angriotta here present, should come unto your Court, I would let you understand that, which with my two ears I did hear spoken by the mouth of these two traitors: hereupon he recited word by word, the whole consultations which he had heard, whereat all they that were present did greatly wonder to hear such conspiracies repeated. And for as much if it like your Majesty, said Sarqailes, as they can in no sort excuse themselves, my Lord Angriotta and I will combat with their three sons, if they dare maintain the contrary. Now were they present of whom they spoke, who seeing the injury that was done unto their aged fathers, and that every one gave credit to the words of Sarquiles, in a great rage they thrust through the press, and falling on their knees before the King, they said: May it please your Majesty, Angriotta and Sarquiles have most falsely and wickedly lied in the words which they have said before your Majesty, and wheresoever, or whensoever they do say so they shall lie, and therefore it may please you presently to grant unto us the combat which they have demanded. Truly, answered the King, it is now very late, but I am content that tomorrow after service you shall do that which you can, as well on the one part as on the other. Then D●…s one of the sons of Br●quadas by the sister of Gandandel, a valiant and expert man at arms (but wholly addicted to villainy) stepped forth saying unto the King. Saving the reverence of your Majesty, Sarq●●les hath unjustly and lewdly lied in all that he hath said, and I shall be one of them that will maintain it against him. By my faith, answered Angriotta, if there were a fourth here too, he should be as well handled as I hope thou shalt. Go too then, said the King, depart you all for this day, and to morrow think upon your business.  
Afterwards he called G●●medan and Giontes his Nephew, and after he had consulted with them a little while, he commanded Gandandel and Broquadas to come before him, unto whom he said 〈…〉 Come ●…hether, you have so many times declared unto me, that Amadis and his associates had determined to betray me, and to usurp upon me the land of Great Britain, yet nevertheless when it is come to an issue, you excuse yourselves from the combat, setting your sons to maintain your wickedness, who cannot do therewithal, notwithstanding God is just, & by all that I do owe unto him, it is very lewdly spoken of you, never would I ever have thought you such as you are. May it please your Majesty answered Gandandel, our children seeing us too slow in our justification, put themselves forward to maintain the honour of their fathers. They had reason said Grumedan, for hardly could you have recovered any others, & no doubt but you are men of little worth, or reputation, for the Devil could never have invented such wickedness as you have set abroach, so as if the King should cause a thousand such as you are to be hanged, yet could he not hold him satisfied for the treachery which you have done unto him, but your children shall bear the punishment for you. My Lord Grumedan said they, although you wish it so, yet shall it not haphen so, if God please: for our sons delivering us from shame, shall obtain the victory with honour. You shall see said Grumedan what the issue will be. And because this talk continued longer than the King liked, he sent every man unto his lodging. And the same night those which the next morning were to perform the combat, did look that nothing might be wanting in their armour, especially Angriotta and his Nephew, who withdrew them unto a Chapel where they continued in prayer until the day break. And because the King had received injurious speeches by the twelve knights of the Island, they went unto their tents, with Madasima and her Damosels, where they remained all that night. But the day appearing, they all mounted on horseback, & came to accompany their fellows Angriotta and Sarquiles, unto the place of combat, there were already arrived the King, Princes, and Lords, with the Queen & the other Ladies. Thus the combatants entered into the field, Angriotta and Sarquiles on the one side, Tarin, Corian and Damas' on the other side. Then the trumpets sounded, whereupon each of them pulled down the beaue● of his helmet, and with their Lances in their rests, they set spurs to their horses, running with such force one against another, that Corian and Tarin broke upon Angriotta, & Damas' upon Sarquiles: but Angriotta hit Corian so sound a stroke with his Lance that he unhorsed him. Then turning his face, he saw Tarin ready with his sword in his hand: who beholding his brother overthrown, came with great rage against Angriotta, & thinking to strike him upon the top of the helmet, the blow fell short, and lighted upon the head of his horse, wherewith he was grievously wounded. Notwithstanding Angriotta finding that he was near his enemy, he hit him so sound with his sword, that with the stroke he unhorsed him, and at the same instant he himself perceived his horse waxed faint, with the wound he had received upon his head, forsook him and leapt on the ground. Then with his shield on his arm, he came against him whom he had first overthrown, who was already risen up & marched against Angriotta. And thus began the combat between them two, where shortly after came Tarin in like sort, and Angriotta was to answer them both: nevertheless he did make known, that he was not to seek in such an extremity: for he had led them so roundly that he gave them not so much leisure as to take their breath, so that in less space than an hour, their armour was hacked in pieces, & they so wounded that the blood ran down on all parts. I believe there is none of you all that doth hear this History, who understandeth not well enough, that Angriotta could not defend himself so well, but that he felt some part of the strokes, for he was sore wounded in many places, yet was it nothing in respect of the others. In the mean time Sarquiles, whom Damas' had in hand, began to be ashamed with the over great resistance that his enemy made unto him, and for the same cause setting spurs unto his horse, he found the means to buckle with his enemy: and as they were struggling together and striving who should fall first, Angriotta doubting that his Nephew would have the worst, drew towards him, but before he came near unto him, Sarquiles and Damas' fell down one upon another: By this means was their encounter reinforced, because that Angriotta endeavoured to succour his Nephew, & the others to relieve their kinsman: Who being under Sarquiles could by no means rise up, for Sarquiles held him so short, that pulling off his helmet, he thrust his sword into his throat, then seeing his enemy dead he left him there, & came running upon Tarin and his companion, who were in a manner out of breath, & ready to yield, or to ask mercy. The which the King, Broquadan & Gandan●el perceiving, they were so sorry that they departed. Notwithstanding although they were displeased with this sight, yet all the rest of the Court there present, took pleasure to behold it, for the love which they did bear unto Amadis & his friends. And more gladder yet were they when they saw them brought to the extremity of their unhappy end. For scant had the King turned his head from the window, but that Angriotta did hit Corian so forcible a blow, that he quite cut off all his right shoulder: with the extreme grief whereof, giving a sign of his death, he fell down kissing the ground with his nose, after whom Tarin stayed not long before he did as much.  
Thus were the sons of these traitors slain, for the which Madasima, Oriana, and many others did greatly rejoice. Then Angriotta & his Nephews took the bodies of the vanquished, and dragged them forth of the fields, afterwards they demanded of the judges if they had performed as much as was requisite, who answered that they had. Whereupon they both retired in great triumph, & accompanied with their friends, they came unto the tents of their fellows, conducting with them Madasima and her women, because they knew assuredly that King Lisuart was very angry for the good fortune which had happened unto them, so much hurt did he wish unto Amadis, notwithstanding that he well perceived how his affairs prospered very badly ever since he had driven him away, & the French knights of his company.   
The end of the Second Book.  

A Table of the Chapters contained in this Second Book.  

CHAPTER 1. THe description of the Firmeisland. Who made the enchantments, and placed those great riches which were found in the same. Fol. 1.  
Chap. 2. How Amadis, Galaor, Florestan and Agraies, having taken leave of the fair Briolania, to return unto King Lisuart, were carried into the Firmeisland to prove the arch of Loyal lovers, and the other adventures in the same. Fol. 6.  
Chap. 3. How Durin departed to go towards Amadis, unto whom he delivered the Letters from Oriana, and what hurt happened thereby. F. 14.  
Chap. 4. How Gandalin and Durin followed the same way that Amadis had taken, brought the rest of his armour which he had left behind, then found him sleeping, and how he fought against a Knight whom he did over come. Fol. 18.  
Chap. 5. Who was the Knight vanquished by Amadis, and what happened unto him, before he fought with him. Fol. 23.  
Chap. 6. How Don Galaor, Florestan and Agraies, undertook the search of Amadis: who having left his armour, changed his name, and withdrew himself to an Hermitage, in the company of a very old Hermit. There to live solitary. F. 27.  
Chap. 7. How Durin returned unto the Princess Oriana, unto whom he declared the sorrowful news of Amadis: and of the great sorrow which she made, after she understood of his despair. Fol. 35.  
Chap. 8. How Don Guillan the Pensive did bring unto the Court of King Lisuart, the shield, armour and sword of Amadis, which he had found lying by the fountain of the plain field. Fol. 39  
Chap. 9 How the Fair Forlorn being in the Rock with the Hermit, there arrived a ship, in the which was Corisanda, who sought for her friend Florestan, and of that which happened unto them. Fol. 46.  
Chap. 10. How the Gentlewoman of Denmark going in search of Amanis, after long travail coasting along many strange Islands, by chance she arrived in the poor Rock, where Amadis was, who was called the Fair Forlorn, whom show knew, & how they returned together towards Oriana. Fol. 53.  
Chap. 11. How Galaor, Florestan and Agraies, departed from the Firmeisland, to go seek Amadis, of whom they could hear no tidings at all, whereupon they all returned unto the Court of King Lisuart. Fol. 60.  
Chap. 12. How King Lisuart being set at the Table, there came before him a strange Knight armed at all points, who defied him: The conference that Florestan had with him, and how Oriana was comforted with the good news that she received from Amadis. Fol. 71.  
Chap. 13. How the Fair Forlorn sent Enil his Esquire unto London, to cause a new armour to be made for him, & what adventure chanced unto him in going to Mire●●eur. Fol. 78.  
Chap. 14. How that after the Fair Forlorn had ended his adventure, he went unto the fountain of the three Channels: from thence he took his way to Mirefleur, where he found Oriana, with whom he remained eight days together: and at the same time there arrived in the Court of King Lisuart an ancient Gentleman, bringing with him two jewels of singular virtue, whereby the faithful lover, from the feigned might be tried, the which Amadis & Oriana, determine to make proof of, in such secret manner, that they would neither be known of the King nor any other. Fol. 90.  
Chap. 15. How the damosel of Denmark was sent unto London, to know what answer Enil had received from the King, touching the safe conduct which was demanded by the Fair Forlorn, who did afterwards bring Oriana thither to prove the strange jewels. Fol. 99  
Chap. 16. How after the Fair Forlorn had brought Oriana back again to Mirefluer, he departed, that he might be in the battle with King Lisuart: and what happened unto him. Fol. 110.  
Chap. 17. How King Cildadan and Galaor were unawares to themselves, carried away by twelve Damosels, and one of them was put into a strong Tower, environed with the Sea, and the other in a Garden enclosed with high walls, where they thought they had been in prison, & of that which happened there unto them. Fol. 120.  
Chap. 18 How the evening ensuing, the King being risen from the Table, walking about the galleries of his Palace, he beheld two great fires upon the Sea, that came directly towards the City. Fol. 130.  
Chap. 19 How after the departure of Vrganda, the King being ready to mount on horseback, to execute the enterprise which he had determined to make upon the burning Lake, there came before him a Damsel Gyantesse, to understand whether his Majesty would be pleased to refer the quarrel that he pretended in his voyage, upon the combat betwixt Ardan Canila, and Amadis of Gaul, with such conditions as shall be declared unto you. Fol. 137.  
Chap. 20. How Bruneo de bonne Mer did fight with Madamine the ambitious, brother to the Damosel injurious, and of the accusations that were made by some of the enemies of Amadis unto the King, for which cause he and many others (that were desirous to follow him) departed from the Court. Fol. 151.  
Chap. 21. How Amadis with many others his confederates 〈◊〉 the service of King Lisuart, and went as well to prove the adventures of the Arch of loyal lovers, as also of the forbidden chamber. Fol. 163.  
Chap. 22. How Oriana remained in great perplexity, not only for the departure of Amadis, but also because she felt herself great with child: and of that which happened to the twelve Knights that were departed from the Firmeisland, to deliver Madasima and her Damosels. Fol. 173.   
FINIS.