THE First and second part of the History of the famous Euordanus Prince of Denmark.  
With the strange Adventures of jago Prince of Saxony: And of both their several fortunes in love.  
AT LONDON, Printed by I.R. for R.B. and are to be sold in Paul's Churchyard, at the sign of the Sun. 1605.   

The first part of the History of the famous Euordanus, Prince of Denmark; with his adventures, and fortune in love.  

CHAP. I. How King Frederick and his Queen walking to take the air, were assaulted by a company of Outlaws, & how the Queen was delivered of a child in the Forest.  
YOU may read in the Chronicles of Denmark, of the great love between King Frederick, & the famous Allisonne, Countess of Flaunders. And how that after a long contention, between the said Frederick, and Griffory Duke of Holland, the King married her in the great City of Gaunt, to the extreme grief of the said Griffory, who thereupon gave over all martial exercises for a season, until such time as he was revenged, as you may more at large read of in the said Chronicle, written by one Cleonido a Dane.  
Not long after the said marriage, the King having settled the estate of that Earldom, returned into Denmark with his beautiful Queen, where at the arrival, they were received with great honour and triumph by his subjects, who loved him as entirely, as it was possible for any subjects to love their Prince, as appeared by their solemn processions, ringing of bells, staitly pagants, and other gallant shows, which were presented unto him in every Town he passed through. But coming into Maiance, which then was the chief City of the kingdom, he was presented with such variety of pleasing shows, that it passeth my capacity to describe them, likewise there were many excellent and learned Orations, pronounced by the chief scholars of the University of Maiance, setting forth the great love of the people toward their Prince, and the joy conceived of his marriage with so excellent a Lady as was his Queen. On the otherside, the King to gratify his subjects loving minds, showed himself bountiful and liberal unto all, to some by gifts, to others by promises and fair words, and to all by pleasing gestures, so that one might rightly say, there was in him the lively portraiture of a most grave and prudent Prince, and in them the true show of faithful and loving subjects.  
But as it always happeneth, when men think themselves in greatest felicity, then whether it be by the instability of Fortune, or else that the Fates and destinies have so appointed it, they are oftentimes suddenly tumbled down, into grief and misery. Even so it happened with the King and Queen, who living a while in this content, were suddenly driven into great cares and perplexity. Whereby we may perceive, the divine power of God to be such, that he can pull down Princes from their thrones, and restore them again at his pleasure, as sometimes he did by Nabucadnezar and others, to the setting forth of his glory and power.  
Now was it hard about the Month of May, when as the fields and woods were decked with Flora's brood, and on each spray sat lovely birds, resounding heavenly harmony. The pretty Nitingall, setting her speckled breast against a briar, regarded not fond Terius foul desire, but chanted forth her pleasant ditties. When as the King and Queen, accompanied with a small train of Lords and Ladies whom they loved, one morning early stolen forth of the Court secretly, to disport themselves in the forest, which was hard adjoining unto the City walls, where they had not long remained, beholding the broad-shaded Okes, and stately lofty Pines, before that a company of Outlaws, who were banished the Kingdom of France, had espied them, and seeing they were no better provided, set on them. Where one might have beheld the Queen and her Ladies so affrighted with this sudden accident, fling up & down, some hiding themselves in one bush, some in another. Others again being more timorous, sunk down where they stood, not being able to fly away. But all was one, fly or tarry, for being pursued, they were all taken, and brought back, saving only the Queen, who being carried forwards with the wings of fear, made such haste that she escaped them all, being so appointed by the providence of God.  
The King likewise & Noblemen being amazed at this unlooked for event, knew not well suddenly what to determine, but in the end, seeing no other remedy, resolved to defend themselves as well as they might. The King being at that time one of the most accomplished Knights in all Europe, laid on such blows amongst them, that he made an evident show that he was determined to sell his life at an extreme dear rate. But being unarmed, and having no other weapon but his sword, and all his company being slain outright saving two, who were likewise grievously wounded, was forced perforce to yield to their pitiless mercy: who having obtained victory, stripped them all, as well Lords as Ladies of their coin, and abiliments which were aught worth. And binding those whom they thought might any ways work them displeasure, as by raising power to pursue them, or unbinding their fellows, they determined speedily to departed towards the Sea coast, where some of their company remained, with two small Barks, wherewith they crossed the seas. But as they were ready to departed, it came into one of their minds, that some of them whom they had rob, might peradventure be such persons, for whose ransom, they might get more coin than all their booty was worth: wherefore demanding of one of the Ladies whom they had bound, what they were, was given to understand, that he who made the greatest resistance was the King, the other two which were living, both noble men of his Court. Then calling to his mind, the great hate between the said King, and Griffory Duke of Holland, determined if he could, to carry him with him, and to present him to the Duke, of whom he hoped to receive some great reward. Wherefore entreating his fellows, who knew not whom they had rob, so grant him so much favour, as to permit him to have that Knight for his prisoner, in regard as knowing him heretofore in France, feigning that there he had done great despite to a friend of his, in revenge whereof he would deliver him into his hands, whom he knew would keep him in eternal prison for his former offence. Now if they would be contented to grant this unto him, he would seek for no other part of their booty.  
They all being more greedy of pray then of prisoners, who they thought might rather be a charge, than profit unto them, were content to grant unto his request. Who presently went and unbound the King, and so led him directly towards their shipping. And having wind at will, presently weighed Anchor, and set into the Sea, where we will leave them for awhile, and return to the Queen, who by her swift flight, missed the hands of the thieves, but fell into as great or greater ill. For whilst the King and the other Lords held the thieves somewhat short, by defending themselves, as is before declared, the fearful Queen flying into the wood for safety, strayed two and fro she witted not whether. At length, being wearied with running, and fainting still with fear, she sat her down under a juniper bush, to refresh herself, where after she had awhile rested herself, she began to call to mind, and consider in what great danger she had left her Lord & husband, then reproving herself, for that she had not rather made choice to have stayed and ended her days with him, than thus to have rome she witted not whether. Then rising up, she determined to have returned to the same place where she left them fight, but strayed further, so that tracing and traversing up and down the wood, she spent the whole day to her no small grief. And now dark night having spread her sable mantle over the face of the earth, the sorrowful Queen, not knowing what to do, or whether to go, determined to take up her lodging for that night, under a broad branched Oak, fast by a fountains side, whereas the wild beasts of the Forest did commonly resort to drink, where good Lady she was forced to content herself with a hungry pittance, tears being her daintiest dish, whereon she fed, sometimes exclaiming on cruel fortune, whom she accused to have brought her into these miseries: then presently her husband's portraiture seemed to appear unto her mind, whom she thought to be murdered by those robbers, which was such a grief unto her, that many times she was minded to have slain herself, had not God mightily preserved her to a further setting forth of his glory.  
Thus passed she away most part of the night with weeping and lamentations, until such time that Somnus with his leaden wings seized her eyelids, and caused her for a while to slumber. In which sleep, she thought an Angel sent from God, being clothed all in white raiment, appeared unto her, saying, Be of good heart and fear not, for these crosses which now are come upon thee, the Lord hath sent to prove thee with all, and therefore it behoveth thee to bear it patiently, until such time as the Lord shall ease thee of them. As for the King thy husband he liveth, but yet in bands, and shall do still, until such time as the child that now is in thy womb, shall be his deliverer, whom thou at his birth shalt name Euordanus, this now am I sent to tell thee, because thou shouldest not despair.  
The Queen hereat awaked out of her slumber, and looking about if she might see any body, but could not, then perceiving it to be a dream, or vision, marveled what it might signify, & was greatly troubled with devising thereof: so that all the night after she could take no rest, sometimes thinking of her husband, and sometimes what the child's deliverance might mean, at length determined to refer all to the merciful providence of God. Thus sits she poor sorrowful Lady, till such time as by the singing of the cheerful Lark, & by the roaring of the wild beasts, she was preparing to forsake Dame Thetis lodging, and that night's sable mantle was changed into a hoary grey. When lo, as was their wont, the savage beasts came unto the well to drink, there did she with fear behold the stately Unicorn, with the cruel Tiger, the roaring Bear, and gaudy Panther, the bellowing Bull, & foaming Boar, the ravening Wolf, and crafty Fox, with divers more, which put her in such fear, that she had thought presently to have been devoured, when falling on her knees, and holding up her hands, she said these or such like words.  
O most merciful Lord God, I do here acknowledge before thy divine majesty, my manifold and innumerable sins committed against thy divine majesty both in thought, word, and deed, O Lord I am not worthy so much as once to look up to heaven, much less to receive any thing at thy hands O Lord. Yet merciful Father, trusting in the merits of thy dearly beloved son, our Lord and Saviour Christ jesus, I come unto thee in his name, craving forgiveness of all my sins and iniquities. And further, O Lord God, I humbly beseech thee to save and deliver me, from this present danger, and peril of my wretched life, O Lord bow down thy heavenly eye, and behold me thy woeful handmaid, and likewise this poor infant that is within my womb, defend it, O Lord, and grant that according unto the vision which thou by thy holy Angel hast showed me, it may live to set forth thy glory and power, and in the end, when it shall be thy blessed will, to call us out of this wretched vale of wickedness, thou wilt receive and place us in thy Celestial kingdom, whether O Lord for thy sons sake bring us I beseech thee.  
These, or such like were the words, which she distressed Lady then uttered: when behold a mighty surious Lion came rushing out of the wood towards her, bringing in his mouth a cake of Bread, which he most gently laid down at her feet, fawning upon her, as if of long time he had been acquainted with her, and would not departed from her. At length, somewhat to recomfort herself, then smoothing his rough bristles with her tender hand, she made much of him laying his head on her lap, whereat he seemed to take great content. Then taking up the cake of bread which he had brought her, and giving thanks unto God, imagining as sometimes in the wilderness he had sent Ravens to feed the Prophet Elias, so likewise had he now sent the Lion to comfort and bring her food, she refreshed therewith her hungry stomach. After which repast, the Lion very softly paced towards the wood again, ever casting back his head, as if he looked whether the Lady followed him or not, which she at length perceiving, determined to follow him, hoping thereby either to get out of the wood, or else to find some better place of safety. Thus went they together, till at last he brought her unto a Cave underneath the ground, with a very narrow entrance in, but being entered, she found it a reasonable large room. Thus determining for a while to remain th●● 〈◊〉 such time as God should send her better fortune, passing away the time some while with walking about the woods near the Cave, otherwhiles with playing with the Lion, who every day brought her in meat, such as he got abroad in the Forest, which she sometimes scorched and dried in the sun, otherwhiles was forced to eat it raw, until such time as by hap one day walking abroad, she found a flint stone, with which afterwards she used to strike fire, and therewith would broil her meat. Thus continued she, until such time, that according to the natural course of women, her time of childbirth was come. When as good Lady, feeling the pains thereof, to her most strange and extreme, not having any to comfort and help her, she fell again into her wont passion of dolour, complaining of her cruel fortune, which had deprived her of all help and comfort, & had brought her into this extreme sorrow & pains. But even then, in the midst of her complaints, God pitying her grief, sent her safe deliverance of a most goodly and beautiful boy, which when she beheld, according to the saying of the Scripture, she forgot all her former sorrow, rejoicing that a man child was borne into the world: and giving thanks unto God, she took the child up in her arms, and beholding it, she imagined that in him she saw the lively figure of the King her husband. And making such shift as she could to wrap him up in clothes, she beheld on his right shoulder a well proportioned cross, which seemed far redder than the rest of his body, whereat she greatly marveled: then calling to mind her vision, she hoped that in time he should prove a famous man, and a scourge unto the enemies of the Christian faith, as she thought the sign of the Cross did already foreshow, then likewise remembering the name which the Angel had told her in her vision, as soon as she had recovered strength to go, went with her son to the fountain, where she baptised him, naming him as she was willed, Euordanus, then returned she again to the Cave, where we will leave her for a while with her young Infant, and return to speak of the King her husband.   

CHAP. II. How King Frederick being carried away by the Outlaws, after a great storm at sea arrived in Holland, whereas he was sold to his mortal enemy, the Duke Griffory.  
AFter the Outlaws had brought their booty and good King aboard, and had set sail, minding to have gone for some place of France, where they might have secretly stolen ashore, to learn some news of their own affairs, and having the wind large, determined to have landed in a small crick not far from Rotchell, because most of them were heretofore inhabitants of that Town, but even as they were come within the sight of Land, on a sudden the Skies began to overcast, the sun was clouded, and the face of heaven was so darkened, that one could not discern at that present time, being about no one days from the darkest midnight: the winds began to blow on all sides, as if that Aeolus had unstopped all his airy Cave, and had determined with one assault to have subdued Neptune's Regiments. Or as when the angry Goddess juno gréeuing at the quiet passage of the poor vanquished Troyans', desired Aeolus to sink them in the sea: so fared it with them, by reason that the seas on all sides being so assaulted of the winds, did so cruelly rage and storm, that sometimes their small Barks did seem to touch the very clouds, and presently again were thrown down unto the sands, every man imagining that to be the last hour of their lives. Some, as is commonly the custom of such people being in extremity, fell to prayer, othersome to cursing and swearing: the Master cries in with the sails, others cry down with the Mast, some again, to lighten their Bark of her burden, the more yarly to rise with the Seas, begin to throw over board all whatsoever comes to hand, hoping thereby, as with a pleasing sacrifice, to appease the angry Seas.  
But even as they were thus busied, some on one thing, others on another thing, a mighty gust in manner of a Whirlwind, coming out of the south-west, bears both masts and sails by the burden. The Bark wherein the King was, having spent both their fore and main Mast, were forced to put to hull, yielding themselves to the pitiless mercy of the wind and seas, which every minute was ready to have devoured & swallowed them up. Thus continued the storm by the space of three days, the wind sometimes in their forshyp, then in their poop, now in the quarter, and presently again in their bow, continuing with such force, that the best man aboard was scarcely able to stand on the hatches. But at length, as every storm hath an end, so now Neptune rousing himself out of his fair Queen Amphitries' bosom, and beholding she poor distressed Mariners, took pity on their miseries, and lifting his hoary head above the waters, assuaged them, and with his thréeforked Mace rebuked the Winds, threatening to punish their arrogant presumption, if he hereafter happened to find them with the like offence.  
The storm being thus broken up, and the Sun beginning again to lighten the earth with his splendent beams, the weather-beathen Mariners looking abroad for their comfort, espied the Land, which after they had a while with joy beheld, they made to be the Land of Holland. Who then so glad as Martinus, for so was he called which had the King to his prisoner, for whom he hoped ere long to receive such a sum of money, as for ever should make him rich: the King on the other side was in as great perplexity, knowing that they were arrived on the coast of his greatest enemy, yet comforting himself somewhat with the hope of not being known, as also of not knowing Martinus meaning, he showed himself the more cheerful. Thus between hope and fear, they altogether passed away the time, in merry discourses of their former danger, till such time as they were come on land, at a Port called Alentmaer, where Martinus feigning himself to be very ill at ease, by reason of the late storm, craved leave of the rest of his company, to go with his prisoner unto the City of Hanstance, which was not passing three leagues of, now called Ansterdam: where he determined to rest himself, until such time as he found himself thoroughly amended, which they soon granted him, not knowing his intent, and being also willing to be rid of his company, because of his double charge.  
So departed Martinus with his prisoner, whom he swore so continue true unto him: as fearing his escape, being to travel but they two together, but the King being in his enemy's country, durst not make himself known, which he must needs, if he had made any resistance. Thus traveling on together towards Hanstance, they arrived there at such time, as the blushing sun plucking in his smiling beams, making his steeds to mend their wont place, and plunging down into the Ocean streams, there in the frothy waves did hide his face, leaving the earth covered with nights darksome shade: wherefore that night they took up their lodging, Martinus learning of his haost, how Duke Griffory having ever since she marriage of the King of Denmark, and the fair Lady Allison of Flaunders, given over all pleasure, was withdrawn from his Court into the Country, some eight mile's distance from the City: where having built a lodge in a maruilous solitary place, he passed the time in melancholy humours, somewhiles playing on the Lute some mournful ditties, otherwhiles, engraving in the trees on the ground Verses and Sonnets, feeding his humours with such vain toys, to the great grief of all his subjects: and how in all that time he never had suffered any one to come into his presence, or to speak with him, saving a small company of his attendants, which remained there with him. When Martinus had heard all this, he determined the next day to go thither, and to make known unto him those things, which should soon put him out of his melancholy dumps. The next morning very early he was risen up, and coming to the King, told him how that he had some occasion of business in the Country, which would cause him to be away a day or two, wherefore he was determined in the mean time, leaving him behind him, to cause him once more to swear unto him, to remain until his return, which if he refused, that then he would commit him unto some prison within the City, whereas he should be always forth coming at his pleasure. The King listening attentively unto his speech, was driven into a thousand imaginations, not knowing what was best for him to do, at length considering his former oath, which rather than he would violate, he would choose to endure any death whatsoever, so much did he esteem of his Kingly oath: he answered him thus. I know not what your meaning may be, in this sort to doubt my former promise, and to go about by a new oath to assure yourself of me: if to set me to ransom, I here freely proffer myself to go a long with you into any place, out of this accursed region, and there to remain, until such time that the same be paid unto you, although it should amount unto an hundred thousand pounds, rather than that you should deliver me, into the hands of the Governor of this accursed Country, who is my mortal enemy.  
Nay, nay, replied Martinus, being blinded with covetousness, and hoping for a greater sum of money: there is no such matter ment, but I have not far off a friend, whose council I mind to follow herein: in the mean time choose whether you will remain in prison, or upon your oath. The King seeing no remedy, swore unto him again to continue his true prisoner, although it cost him his life.  
Then departed Martinus, towards the Duke's lodge, where being arrived, and desiring conference with his grace, touching such matters as nearly concerned him, he was at length brought into a garden, in form much like unto an endless labyrinth, so many were the divers and sundry walks and allies, covered with many kinds of trees, which yielded such a close shadow, that the Sun with his splendent beams could scarce shin through: and passing thus from one walk into another, he came at length where the Duke sat in an Arbour of bay, being clothed all in black, signifying his great sorrow which he sustained, and having a Lute in his hand, was playing a mournful ditty, which he even then had framed, to which Martinus and his guide a while listened, unseen by reason of the thickness of the Arbour.  
At length coming nearer, and with reverence saluting his excellency, Martinus spoke as followeth.  
Most mighty and puissant Prince, I cannot but wonder that you who heretofore, were wont to spend your time in most honourable exercises, as Tilt and Turnie, and following haughty deeds of Chivalry, should so give yourself over unto this solitary kind of life, neither regarding your own estate, nor the estate of your loving subjects and Country: which would spend their very lives to work your content. But if I be not deceived, this strange humour wherewith you are possessed, proceedeth from contrary occasions, the one is the extreme hate you bear unto the King of Denmark, the other over much love towards the beautiful Queen his wife, not knowing with yourself what way to be revenged of him, nor how to regain her love. But suppose most mighty Prince, I should work the means of your revenge, by delivering him into your hands, would not it content you? yea would you not more rejoice thereof, then to have gained the greatest City in Christendom, and likewise reward him, that should effect the same to his content: speak O worthy Duke, were not these the occasions of thy grief, and would not this likewise be the chiefest medicine to seize thy sorrow.  
Scarce were these last words uttered, when the Duke starting up, and staring him in the face, as one wakened out of sound sleep, thus replied. Friend, whatsoever thou art that seekest by a feigned and filled tale, to drive me out of my sad passions; know that to jest with Princes is not tolerable: But if thou canst perform, that whereof thou hast made show of, I will not be slack in rewarding thee for thy pains, though thou shouldest demand half my Dukedom. Therefore tell me by what means this may be accomplished: then effect and bring it to pass, and I will reward thee to thy own content. Worthy Duke replied Martinus, if I perform it not, then let my head be stricken from my shoulders, conditionally that if I do deliver into thy hands, that unhappy King, I may have for my reward the City of Hanstance during my life, with the profits thereof: and this confirm unto me before your Nobility, and then I will deliver him into your hands, within this eight days next coming.  
The Duke being filled with joy, with this his so comfortable news, consented unto whatsoever he demanded, and calling for a Knight which was nearest unto him, willed him to summon his Counsel the next day, to be attendant to hear a matter of importance, which he would show unto them: which was forthwith accomplished, every one the next day at their hour appointed, being ready in the Counsel chamber, to hear what should be their Princes will: every one greatly marveling what sudden motion, was entered in his head, considering that by the space of a year before, he had never conferred with them of any matter, no nor once suffered them to come into his presence. They being as I have said gathered together in the Counsel chamber, the Duke leading Martinus by the hand, came unto them, where he declared his intent, with the promise of Martinus: all which was consented unto by them, hoping thereby to have their Prince in his former estate of content: Assuring unto Martinus under their hands and seals, that whatsoever the Duke had made promise of, they would see it performed, so soon as he should deliver the King of Denmark into their hands. Here will I leave them to tell of the great grief, made through all Denmark, for the loss of their King and Queen.   

CHAP. III. How the King and Queen being found missing, were sought for, and how the Lords and Ladies that were with them were found.  
THe same morning that the King and Queen went to recreate themselves in the forest, as is before declared, they were not found missing, till such time as the tables being spread for dinner, and many Lords and Ladies, Knights, squires, and Gentlemen, being assembled together to give their attendance on his Majesty, marveled that he was so long, before he came down into the great Hall, contrary to his use, which was always wont to be by ten of the clock, where he remained until dinner time, passing away the time with mirth and pleasant disports. At length having expected his coming until twelve of the clock, and seeing that he came not, the Lord Treasure, whose name was Sir Henault, musing what the cause might be, and doubting that all was not well, in regard he neither came himself, neither any of the Squires, which were attending nearest unto him were seen to come down, to declare the cause, at length went up unto the King's bedchamber, where he found the Chamberlain with divers other Gentlemen, which always attended on the Kings own person. And demanding of them where his Majesty was, that he came not down in the Hall as he was accustomed, they all gave him answer, that the King and Queen, accompanied with the Lord Gwaltero his Cousin, the Lord Bewdall, and the Lord of Menew, with some Ladies and attendants, in the morning very early went forth at the Postern, towards the Forest to take the fresh air, and that since that time they were not returned, neither did they know farther what was become of them, but doubted least that they had strayed so far within the wood, that they had lost their way forth. When Sir Henault had hard this, he was much amazed, & greatly troubled in mind, fearing least there had been some treason wrought against his Majesty: wherefore causing the reporters of these news, to be in sure keeping, he went down, and declared the same to the rest of the nobility, and taking counsel together, they determined forthwith to make ageneral search, as well for the King and Queen, and nobles found wanting, as also for all suspected persons, which might be thought any ways guilty towards their absence: likewise they determined, to make a general search throughout all the Forest, lest peradventure, they were happened to go astray, and could not find the ready way back again, or if that they were any way distressed, either by thieves or wild beasts, that then they might rescue them, or find what was become of them.  
Thus having determined, they armed themselves, to the number of three thousand, Knights and Gentlemen, and being mounted on their horses, they took the way directly towards the Forest, where being arrived they separated themselves into divers companies, seeking up and down, and looking almost in every bush, but could not find them whom they sought for, at length Sir Henault with his company happening to pass that way, wherein the morning the fight had been, chanced first to find some of the dead bodies, and looking farther, saw whereas the Lords and Ladies lay bound, being almost dead with the pain and grief which they sustained, the Lords by reason of their wounds, and Ladies by the fear wherein they were put: then coming more near unto them, they found the Lord Gwaltero, and the Lord of Menew grievously wounded, the Lord Bewdall with some four or five other Gentlemen slain out right, which sight struck such a grief and sorrow into the hearts of all the beholders, especially of Sir Henault, that he had much to do to sit on his horse, yet at length recovering his senses, and causing them to be unbound, he demanded what was become of the King and Queen, and by what misfortune they were brought into this pitiful case.  
The Lord Gwaltero having his wounds bound up, and being somewhat refreshed and revived with such restoratives, as some of the company had brought with them, answered, how that walking to take the air, and to view those pleasant shades, they were suddenly and unawares set on by forty thieves or Outlaws, whom by their apparel and speech, they judged to be frenchmen, where defending themselves as well as they might, were in the end thus overcome and wounded: and as for the King, after they had bound us and were departing away, having before stripped us of the wealth we had about us, they returned and took him with them, towards the seaside. But of the Queen, we know no certainty, for whilst we were fight she fled into the wood, with the rest of the Ladies, who were all brought back again save the Queen only, by some of the Outlaws who pursued them: more I know not, but fear lest they likewise happened on her, and have carried her with them: wherefore he thought it fit that pursuit might be made after them to the seawards, where if they were not already gone, it might so fortune as they might recover the King and Queen again, otherwise there would be no hope left for seeing them in haste.  
When Sir Henault had heard this discourse made by the Lord Gwaltero, he was so grieved inwardly, that with extreme sorrow he fell from his horse in a trance, and being brought again to himself, seeing all things were to be followed according to the occasion and time, first he commanded, some part of his company to convey the Lords and Ladies to the Court, whereas they that were wounded might find help for to cure the same: and they likewise that were slain, might every one have burial according to their estates: himself in the mean space being accompanied with a hundred Knights, would follow after the thieves, hoping that if they were not put to sea before their coming, not only to rescue the King, but also to give them such a reward as for ever should be an example, to those who should go about to attempt the like. With this determination they road on towards the sea side, whereas they arrived, about the time, when Vesperus, in the west had set the cunning watch, and silent night richly attended by his twinkling train, sent sleep and slumber to possess the world, and fantazie for to hazan idle heads, whereas they found their labour fruitless, by reason that they were departed long before: and seeing the night begin to wax dark, they all together determined on the plain, hard by the sea side for that night to rest themselves, making fires and great lights to cause the rest of their companies to come unto them, who likewise had made a long and bootless search in the wood, and at length being almost all come together, where Sir Henault remained, they determined the next day to make preparation to follow them by sea, whom they could not recover on shore.   

CHAP. FOUR Of the general lamentation that was made throughout all the Kingdom, and how that after a council held for the governing thereof, the Knights and noble men took on them the search of the King.  
THE next day, no sooner had dark night taken his leave, and that the day began to appear in the East, but Sir Henault with the rest of his company, were mounted on horseback, taking their way towards the sorrowful City of Maiance, where being arrived, they found the City all full of heaviness, by reason of the late news, which at their coming was so much the more augmented, being returned without any certain knowledge what was become of the King and Queen. There might you have seen the true description of sorrow, not in one only creature, but in general through the whole City: some fell to shutting up their doors and windows, as minding for very grief to enclose themselves prisoners in their own houses, shunning the day light, which had given light to those Robbers, who had despoiled them of their joy and comfort. Others again clad in black mournful attire, with their cheeks be spread with tears, which like streams trickled down from the fountains of their eyes, went up and down lamenting and bewailing the loss of their so loving and gracious Prince. The late costly shows, and stately Pagants, were turned into sad objects: yea, no noise was heard through the whole City, but weeping and lamentation, so that the sorrow sustained by the Troyans', for the loss of their chief Champion Hector, when by the Greeks, at the commandment of cruel Achilles, he was three times dragged about their City walls, being before hand cowardly slain with his accursed Spear, was not to be compared with this of Maiance. The grave and modest Matrons, were seen with their garments rend, and their hair dispersed about their shoulders, in most doleful manner to repair to the Temples, where before the most Highest, they poured forth their prayers for their Sovereign, bathing themselves with the tears which fell from their eyes. The young damsels pleasant songs, which with clear and cheerful breasts they were wont to record, were now turned into sad & mournful ditties, bewailing the loss of their Country's protector. Yea, so general was the grief unto all manner of estates, that for the space of forty days together, there was neither shops opened, nor any wares or merchandise sold in their markets. So that the town, which was wont to be so filled with all sorts of people, now seemed in a manner to be void & desolate, none, or very few seen at any time to walk in the streets. Neither was the grief in the country any less, yea throughout the whole kingdom: so generally was he beloved of all his subjects, that he was counted not only a just Prince, but also a loving Father to his Country, always defending the poor from the oppression of the rich, and the desolate widows and Orphans, from the violence of those, who by any means sought to wrong them.  
Sir Henault, as we have before said, being returned to Maiance, caused forthwith some small Barks to be well manned and sent forth after the Pirates, with command not only to scour their own Coast, but also to pursue them unto the borders of France: where they took many, but could not meet with any of them which they sought for. Then calling a general Counsel of all the Nobility and Peers of the Land, where after a long & learned Oration by him pronounced, describing unto them, the fickle and dangerous estate wherein their Country now stood, by reason of this sudden and unlooked for alteration of crooked Fortune, with the mutability of the minds of the common people, whose natures are always to listen after novelties. which things being considered, it could not choose but to appear unpossible, to keep the Commonwealth in safety: without some certain form of government to be established. Desiring all of them to bend and join their willing minds together, to devise some course or means for the same, until the King might again be heard of and recovered. Which he thought could by no means better be effected, then by a general search made by a chosen number of Knights, who should travel through all the Dominions and kingdoms of Christendom, and elsewhere, as by them it should be thought fit and convenient: of which number, he himself God willing intended to be one, who would either find him out, or end his days in the search.  
This his speech was listened unto of all, but especially applauded and commended by the Lord Gwaltero, and the Lord Menew, who as then were indifferently recovered of their wounds, which they received at the loss of their King: and being both young and valorous, especially Gwaltero, who was then the absolute best Knight in all the kingdom of Denmark, hoped by this means not only to find out their King, if so be he lived, but also to win to themselves eternal renown, by their haughty deeds of Chivalry, which they hoped to obtain in strange Countries, where their fortunes should conduct them. But as for the government of the Commonwealth, in their conceits, they thought none more fit than Sir Henault himself, who being both sage and discreet, and also being as we have said before, Lord Treasurer, & always in great favour with their late King, had in a manner the whole managing of the affairs of the Kingdom in his own hands, by which means, as they supposed, he knew how, better than any other, to continue the same in the former estate, which would be far better than to alter the same, by any other order of government.  
This their opinion was held for currant of many, and consented unto by most of those that were present, who desired no alteration, but thought their former manner of rule to be best, and without fault.  
But as there is no man so virtuous, but shall have some that will envy at his goodness, especially great and mighty men, who no sooner grow into the good liking and favour of the people, be it by never so just or well deserved occasion, (yea though by him only the Commonwealth hath been in a manner preserved and defended from the invasive power of their enemies, (yet shall you have some, like dogs in a manger, that will neither do good themselves, nor willingly hear of others well doings,) being pricked forwards with envy, will not stick to turn any his good deservings into evil, and all their counsels, be they never so profitable to the Commonwealth, they will go about to persuade, that it is rather to benefit & raise themselves, then to do good to their Countries: yea further, let them accomplish any notable piece of service for their country, they will not be afraid to whisper into men's ears, that it was done but for vain glory.) Even such there were in this Counsel, who not only for envy, disliked the choice which the Lord Gwaltero and the rest had made, but also disliked of the search which Sir Henault had motioned for the seeking of the King, alleging that by making such a quest, they should not only despoil themselves of their chief Captains and leaders, but also leave their Country naked, and ready for every invasion of the enemy, when it would be too late to call home those for their defence whom they should not know where to find. Some again thought it better to send forth Ambassadors into divers Nations, thereby hoping to gain knowledge, what was become of him: thinking that if the Outlaws had kept him alive, that then they had sold him to some Prince, who would be content to put him to ransom. Others held, that to send forth spies, which by diligent inquiry might hear of him, would be the best course. Thus divers men were of divers minds, sitting a long while in counsel to no end, neither determining any order for the government of the Commonwealth, nor means to find out their King and Queen. But at length, by the means of the Archbishop of Maiance, who desired change and alteration, they grew to determine of their government, which should be in this manner following.  
First, they should choose of the most sufficienst of the Nobility, and Laity of the Realm, the number of sixscore, out of which number by lot they should choose ten, and of the Clergy thirty, out of which number likewise they should choose two by lot, so that of the Nobility there should be always ten, and of the Clergy two, which twelve so elected, should have the government of the whole kingdom for a year, and at the years end, to give up an account unto the other sixscore and eighteen, of the employment of the treasure belonging to the Crown: and then other twelve to be chosen in the same manner, for the next year. And this order and manner of government to be kept inviolate, until such time as they should hear some certain news, either of the King's death, or return. To this they all consented, setting thereto their hands & seals, presently making choice of those whose hap should be first to govern this their new devised state. The Lots being cast, the first twelve to whom the government lighted, was of the Clergy, the Archbishop of Maiance, and the Bishop of Odelstoe: and of the Nobility, the Duke of Lovenborge, the Duke of Newmister, the Lord Harding, the Count Hermes, the County of Mildorpe, the County of Opencade, the Lord of Londen, the Lord Itzenho, the Lord of Newstat, and the Lord of Rensborge. These twelve, according to former agreement, took on them the government of the kingdom, first setting all things in quiet within the kingdom, and making divers laws and statutes for the preservation thereof. And then made preparation for the defending of the same, if so be that any neighbour Prince should now in the alteration of their government, make any war or invasion upon them, thereby not to be taken unprovided. They therefore fortified divers Castles, and strong Holds upon the borders of the Kingdom, repairing those that were weak, and erecting new where they thought any need to be, placing garrisons in them all, for the defence thereof. Likewise they took order, for the defence and sure keeping of the Country of Flaunders in their subjection, fearing least upon the report of the loss of the King and Queen, there might be some alteration moved, either by some neighbour Potentate, or the inhabitants themselves, who at that time were given altogether, to desire change and alteration.  
Now amongst all these discourses we must not forget the Lord Gwaltero, the Lord Menew, and Sir Henault, whose heroic minds not being able to be contained within the confines of Denmark, missing their only comfort and solace, their noble Prince, whose presence was more dear to them, than any thing in the world beside: provided according to their former determinations, to travel in his quest throughout the whole world, but that they would either find him out, or hear some certain news of him, which being made known, to divers other Lords and Knights, there were to the number of a hundred, all of the mind, bend either to find him out, or never to return. Thus every one in the best manner they could, made preparation for their journey, fitting themselves both with armour, and store of money for their needful expenses in their travel. And being all in a readiness to departed, they divided themselves, some into one Country, and some into another, appointing where many times to meet, being in strange Countries, where we will leave them, to declare what befell to the King and Martinus, being in his enemy's Country, as is before mentioned.   

CHAP. V How King Frederick, was delivered by Martinus, into the the hands of Griffory, by whom he was imprisoned, and how Martinus by the Duke was afterward put to death.  
YOu have heard before, how Martinus had agreed with Griffory of Holland, for the delivery of the good King Frederick, in recompense whereof, he should have for term of his life, the City of Hanstance, withal the customs and profits thereof.  
The next day after this conclusion, the Duke going along with him to Hanstance, where being arrived, was by Martinus brought into the Burgesses house, where he left the King, who according to his oath he found there still remaining, little fearing that which suddenly happened unto him, for Martinus coming unto him, and taking him by the hand, as if he would have conferred with him about his ransom, brought him at length into a chamber, whereas he had left the Duke, accompanied with some few of his nobility, unto whom Martinus spoke as followeth.  
Most high and mighty Prince, according unto my faithful promise made unto your excellency, I here before these your nobility, deliver up into your hands, this unfortunate and unhappy King of Denmark, of whom you may now at any time, be fully and sufficiently revenged, of any former wrong by him committed against you, or of any displeasure, which worthily you have conceived against him, and likewise so clip his wings, for ever hereafter being able, to do you the least offence whatsoever.  
When the Duke had heard him speak this his pleasing, and to him most delightful speech, scarce suffering him to make his conclusion, having also in the mean time thoroughly viewed the King, whom by divers signs he verily knew to be the same, he could scarce content himself, but would immediately have slain him with his own hands, so deadly was the hate he bore him, and such the incivillitie of his churlish and revengeful nature: yet being stopped by some of his nobility from killing him, he fell out into these or such like railing speeches. O thou most accursed and vild caitiff, whom were it not (that I mean to put thee to more extreme pain & torments,) I would with these my hands, rend that detestable body of thine to pieces, and with my teeth tear and gnaw the flesh from thy bones, so endless is my malice against thee, and so many thy wrongs and villainies committed, which causeth me to muse and invent, what or how many kind of torments, I might inflict upon thee. But would to God that disloyal strumpet, that infernal Queen, the causer of all my miseries, yea she whose bewitching beauty, thou so much and with such a greediness hast desired, yea and by thy comurations, and other thy detestable and execrable means, thou hast hetherunto to thy content enjoyed: O that she were here present, to behold and take part of those continual pains and torments, the which not only for the hate I bear thee, but also to be revenged on her, for her most odious, whorish, and execrable dissimulation towards me, I mean to inflict upon thy wretched carcase.  
The good King being no longer able to forbear, these inhuman and opprobrious revilings, proffered him by his currish and spiteful enemy, replied in this sort: Griffory I cannot but muse, how God having endued thee, with reason and understanding like unto other men, that thou notwithstanding, shouldest abound in vicious, wicked, and detestable conditions above all other men, which canst not be content with the misery, which thou seest me brought into, being thy prisoner, and at thy disposition, to be either kept or ransomed, wrought by the most base & odious means that might be, yea after such a sort, that the beriest Infidel under the heavens, would not so much as once have gone about or imagined, but also now (contrary) to all humanity, revilest me with such opprobrious speeches, whom heretofore thou durst not to look me in the face for fear, and also revile at her, whom neither thyself, nor no man living is able to touch with that least crime whatsoever, and that would I make good against she, and three of the best of thy Knights with my body, were I at liberty, having horse and armour. 'tis true, 'tis true, replied the Duke, we know your valour to be great, but we will soon abate that your hot courage, and place you where your Goddess whom you so much esteem, shall neither have power, nor means to help you.  
Do thy worst replied the King, and sith it is the will of God to inflict this punishment upon me, I will endeavour myself with patience, to endure what torments soever shall happen, hoping in the world to come, to enjoy therefore eternal blessedness: but in the mean time think not thou, but that thou mayst fall in like mishap, and that I have yet remaining in the Kingdom of Denmark such Subjects, that when they shall know of this my ill fortune and thy cruelty, will not leave bearing Arms, till such time they shall have laid waist, this thy accursed Country, not leaving thee any Town, or Fort to hide thyself, from their revengeful swords: wherefore advise thee, and determine either to set me at liberty, or otherwise expect those evils, which will surely fall on thy Country. If thou consent to my enlargement, for my ransom thou shalt receive a whole million of gold, which shall be paid thee forthwith out of my treasury.  
No, no, replied Griffory, thy gold is but dross, and cannot work in me that content, which my heart shall enjoy by thy imprisonment, neither do I fear thy power which thou so much vauntest of, for thou shalt see, and that shortly, that I will not only possess myself of thy darlings County of Flaunders, but also by the strength of this right arm, in despite of all thy power, Crown myself King of the Kingdom of Dansk, whilst thou in the mean time, shall lie rotting thy bones in my prison. Then turning about to a Knight of his, named Sir Ragdand, he willed him to convey the unhappy King prisoner unto his Castle of Coruew, and there to put him into the dungeon of the said Castle, and to allow him every day, for the continuance of his most wretched life, a quart of water, and apound of bread, made of the coarsest bran, thinking this, that continually pining away by reason of his course fair, would be a far greater pain and torment unto him, than any present death whatsoever. Likewise for the more sure keeping of him, he ordained a guard of fifty Knights, always to be within the Castle, who should see that no Knight should enter therein. This Castle of Coruew, was of marvelous strength, environed about with deep ditches, and mighty heigh walls, and had but only one way in, which was over a draw bridge, the which was always defended by ten of the said fifty Knights, five at the one end, and five at the other, this guard grew at length to a custom, by reason of the hundred Knights of Denmark, which went in search of their King, and was devised only to entrap and imprison them, as you may read towards the latter end of this book. Here now will we leave the woeful King enclosed in a miserable prison, bewailing his cross fortune, where he passed away many a year, & although his fare was as we have said before both course and short, yet did God so bless him, that he continued always healthy and strong of body, never grieved with any kind of sickness, saving only discontentedness of mind, which with patience he much delayed, & return we to speak of Martinus, (who had not long after the imprisonment of the King, quietly enjoyed the city of Hanstance, withal the profits thereof before granted him, to the extreme grief of the chiefest of the City, who disdained much to be in subjection to so base a person,) for the Duke, some eight days after possession delivered, fell in consideration with himself, of the great benefit which he had lost, by giving away the chief City in his Dukedom, devised which way he might with his honour recover the same again: at length having resolved with himself, he brought it thus to pass.  
One day being with divers of his Nobility, and Martinus being in company, the Duke feigned himself to be very merry, and in his mirth, for his further content, desired Martinus to declare, how he happened to take Frederick prisoner. Martinus not distrusting any thing, began to make a large repetition, beginning with his former life in France, than the cause and manner of his banishment, and their arriving in Denmark, with their robbery and murder, committed in the Forest of Maiance, with their cruel storm sustained at Sea, as is before declared, by which they were put on that Coast, and lastly, the proffer of a hundred thousand pound by the King, which he refused, only to pleasure the Duke. All which when Griffory had attentively listened unto, he suddenly start up from the place where he sat, commanding the standers by to lay hands on Martinus, saying that it was not lawful to suffer such a one, who had so many ways deserved death, as by his own confession did appear, neither to live, nor to be accepted into the society of men: wherefore he willed them forthwith to lead him to the place of execution. Which when Martinus perceived, and saw that the Tyrant was fully minded to execute, whatsoever he had said, he fell down on his knees, desiring mercy, and offering for the safeguard of his life, to redeliver his right of the City of Hanstance. But he who never was acquainted with mercy or compassion, doubtting if he should pardon him his life, the whole world would condemn him of injustice: and seeing he might as well by his death as his life enjoy his will, answered, that by the Law he had deserved to die, and he being appointed by God, to be a minister of justice, could do no less than cause the laws to be executed: wherefore for an example to all others who for the desire of this worldly gain, are content to betray the innocent, he was led to the market place, and had his head smitten of. Now will we return to speak of the Queen and her young son, whom we left in the Forest, being accompanied with brute beasts.   

CHAP. VI How the Queen going into the Forest, lost her young son, for whom she made great lamentation, and how he was found, and carried away by the Duke of Saxony.  
YOU remember, how the Queen and her little son, being still in the Cave, were nourished by such meat as the Lion used to bring them: and many times for her recreation, would go walk amongst the trees near adjoining to their Cave. Thus continued she by the space of one whole year, never seeing other company then the wild beasts: although there were divers searches made through the Forest, as well by the Knights that west in the quest of her and the King, as also by others for divers occasions. It happened one day that the Lion having brought in a young Kid, which he had taken, the Queen went forth to break some wood to roast the same withal: and taking her young son with her, who by this time was able a little to go and crawl, and setting him down in the sun whilst she went up and down, to break rotten bows and sticks for the use aforesaid, thinking her child would continue quiet enough, playing with such toys as she had left him, went somewhat far from the place. He in the mean time, either being weary of his sport, or disliking the place where he was, or more likely by the special will of God, who pitying his and others mishaps, had otherwise determined of his bringing up, caused him to go from place to place: so that by the time his Mother had provided her wood, and was come to the place she left him in, he was gone astray clean out of hearing. Which when she beheld, and had awhile called and sought after him, not knowing what was become of him, a thousand imaginations came into her mind: sometimes thinking some wild beasts had devoured him, then imagining again, that the Lion seeing him in that place by himself, had carried him to the Cave, as oftentimes he would be playing with him, and bear him from place to place: and being a little comforted with this hope, she hasted her to the Cave, where likewise she was deceived of her hope, which put her into such grief, that not being able to contain herself on her feet, she fell into a trance. Where we will leave her awhile, and declare what became of the child. You shall understand, that the very same day, Mauris Duke of Saxony passing the Seas from England towards his own Country, was driven by force of weather upon this Coast, where being safely arrived, with a few ships of his Navy, the rest being dispersed with the storm, and being weary of the Sea, determined with some twenty or thirty Knights, and Gentlemen in his company, to take some recreation and pastime in the Forest, which was hard adjoining unto the seaside where his ships then road, as is declared in the first chapter of this Book. So taking their horses and Armour, for fear of any danger which might happen, they altogether set forth into the Forest, whereas they had not long road, before such time as a marvelous great Stag appeared unto them, which when Duke Mauris beheld, with his Lance in his hand, he set spurs to his horse, willing the rest of his company to follow him, hoping by the swiftness of his horse to have slain the Stag: which he pursued so far, that at length he had lost the sight of all his company, and was entered so far in the Forest, that he knew not well which way to return again, so thick were the trees and bushes, and so many the small trodden paths which led two and fro, made by the wild beasts.  
Thus roaming to and fro, fearing to lose himself, and hoping to find his company, at length he passed by the place, where as the young child had gotten himself by his crawling, whilst his Mother was gathering sticks (even about the time that she good Lady was returned to the Cave to seek for him) which when Duke Mauris beheld, he alighted down from his horse, and seeing it to be so fair and no body near it, he mused from whence it should come, or by what means it might be brought into a place, so desert and void of human company: then taking the child up in his arms, and earnestly beholding it, he thought that it did very much resemble his young son lago, who was then about the age of 18 or 20 months old, wherefore after he had a while called to see, whether any body would come to seek for the child, and saw that none came, he mounted again on horse back, taking the child with him, determining to have him nourished & brought up with his son, because they did so much resemble and were so near of age, imagining that it might be some Gentleman's, or Nobles man's child, that by some great misfortune was brought into this extremity, thus sometimes musing of one matter, and so of another, he rod onwards he knew not well whether, but by chance he happened on a small beaten way, which brought him out of the Forest, almost at the same place where he entered, where he found all his company in a great fear, and doubt what was become of him, minding to have returned again into the Forest to seek for him. But when they saw him coming, they were all filled with great joy, & went to meet him, to whom he recounted all his adventure, and of the finding of the child, which when they had heard, and beheld him, they much admired as well his strange finding, as also the rareness of his beauty, than which they imagined never to have seen any more accomplished: some imagining this, some that, and all they knew not what, this past they away the time until they were come, where their ships ancored, and going aboard the next day, having the wind fair, and the seas indifferently calm, they set sail in so happy a hour, that within four days after they arrived in the Duchy of Saxony, at a port called Leton, from whence they road towards the City of Brensweke, where then the Duchess was remaining, of whom and the whole City, the Duke was most lovingly received, and welcomed home, who presently after his coming to the Palace, he demanded for his young son, who being brought before him, he caused likewise the child which he found in the Forest to be brought also, who being both together, a man might very hardly know the one from the other, but that the Saxon Prince, was something the bigger, as being elder by six months, hand had also as then somewhat the better colour, being nourished with more wholesomer diet. After they had a while beheld and played with the children, the Duke declared unto the Duchess, and rest of the Lords and Ladies there present, the manner of his finding, as before is recited, and likewise willed to have him brought up, as acompanion with his son, desiring the Duchess to be as careful of him, as of her own, assuring her that his mind gave him, how that the child was issued of a Noble blood: & because they knew not by what name to call him, the Duke willed him to be called the Gentleman of the Forest, which name we must use until such time, as fortune shall make known, from whence he is proceeded. Here again will we leave him, and return to speak of the Queen his mother, whom we left in a trance in the Cave, where having line a long while, and at length come unto herself again, and remembering the loss of her child, fell to weeping, and renting, and tearing her face with her nails, pulling her hair from her head, and cursing herself which had taken no better care of him: then coming forth of the Cave, she went crying up and down, causing the woods to resound the echo of her son, seeking whether she could in any place perceive, either by blood or other sign, if he were devoured of the wild beasts, and finding none, she fell again to seek in every bush, if happily he might be crept therein, but all in vain bestowed she her pains good Lady, to seek for him which in that place could not be found, for God had otherwise ordained, for the bringing up of the child, as you have already heard, though unknown to the good Lady his mother, who was now in such extreme grief, not finding nor knowing what was become of her child, that she became as frantic, weeping, & crying, up and down the Forest all that day, and most part of the night, till being forced with weariness she sat down, and rested herself. Where sitting a while, and contemplating her sorrows, one whiles there would come into her mind, the remembrance of her husband, and her former estate, being in joy and prosperity, the calling to mind whereof, did strike into her the greater sorrow: for being in misery, there is no greater grief, then to call to mind forepast pleasures: then again, would come into her mind her vision, which she saw in the Forest, and the hope of future joys, which thereby was promised, which did somewhat again mitigate her sorrow, thus passed she away all that night, in weeping and lamentations, neither caring nor thinking what might become of her, so excessive was her grief.   

CHAP. VII. How the Queen the next day got out of the Forest, and how she placed herself in a Monestrie, near to the City of Maiance.  
THE night being passed, and beautiful Aurora coming again to the view of this hither world, whose welcome the cheerful Birds rang forth, with many a pleasant tune, to the comfort of all earthly creatures: the woeful Lady, who of all the night had not once suffered her eyelids to close, nor given nature her due by fléepe, rising up from the place where she had remained all night, began again to renew her former sorrow, sometimes cursing & raging at her evil fortune, than again blaming herself for her impatience, which was not able to endure those crosses which God for her trial had laid upon her.  
Thus at length somewhat comforted with the hope she had, that the providence of the most Highest, might turn all her afflictions and crosses, into joys and blessings, and likewise that in time, she might recover, according to the Vision which she had seen at her first coming into the forest, both her husband and son, she determined to make trial if she might get forth of the Forest which if she could; she would unknown travel unto some Monestary, or religious house, where she meant to spend the rest of her time to her soul's comfort: but first she determined to make trial if her husband were returned or not. So happening on a by path, onwards she went so far, that by the time that Phoebus' golden Chariot was ascended into the middle heavens, she found herself even at the place, where first in company of the King, and their train of Lords & Ladies, she entered the wood, at such time as they were set on by the Outlaws. Where beholding the place, and calling to mind that there began the head and wellspring of all her troubles, and miseries which she had since that time endured, broke forth into these, or such like speeches.  
O thou accursed place, reserved only of the divine powers to be a plague and hell to those, who willingly not so much as in thought offended against them. I beseech the Almighty protector of heaven and earth, that thou mayest for evermore prove barren and unfruitful, and that these thy goodly trees and bushes, which were a covert unto those damned wretches, which separated me from that peerless Prince and my dear love, may hereafter never bear neither fruit nor leaves, but may presently whither away and die: as did that fig tree which thou, O Saviour Christ, didst curse for not yielding of fruit in the time of thy hunger, going from Bethania to jerusalem. Thus accursing that place, and the whole Forest, she directed her course towards Maiance, where by reason of her long absence, and the altering of her apparel, through time & her best skill, she entered unknown of any, where she found such an alteration, that she could scarcely believe that to be the City, which in former time she had seen so much to flourish, in costly and brave shows: and not knowing well what to imagine, she secretly inquired as well the cause of this strange alteration, as also whether there were any certain news of the Kings being alive or dead. All which at large was declared unto her, as well the cause of sorrow, which generally did appear through all the City, for the loss of the King, as also the new government of the state, which was disliked of many: but whether the King were living or no, that was not known, so secretly did that Tyrant Griffory cause his imprisonment to be concealed.  
But at length, having made what inquiry she could, not minding to make herself known, she returned again out of the City, and went unto a Monestary some three miles distant, called the Monestry of our Lady, where coming to the Governess, she entreated to be entertained amongst the Religious Votaries. Affirming herself to be a poor desolate widow, who being by death despoiled of all comfort, had determined to end the remnant of her life in prayer, and thanksgiving unto her Creator, trusting thereby to find comfort for her soul in the world to come. The Abbess being a very devout and religious woman, marking not only her outward gesture, which was a plain demonstration of inward grief, but also considering her rare beauty, which though it were not set forth by any Art or habiliments, yet in that careless and covert sort, did it appear to be most singular, demanded of her many questions, which she answered in such good and modest sort, that she grew thereby in great liking, and good opinion of her, entertaining her amongst the rest of her Sisters, where she behaved herself in such good sort, that in short time she gained to herself, not only the love of all the house, but also the fame of her godly living, was spread abroad through all the country adjoining, to the great commendation, and famousing of the Monestry. Where we will leave her in her godly meditations, and return a little to declare what happened to the Lord Gwaltero, and Sir Henault, with the rest of their company, that took on them the search of their King.   

CHAP. VIII. How the Lord Gwaltero, the Lord of Menew, and Sir Henault, with divers others, were divided by a strange adventure: and what happened unto the Lord Gwaltero thereby.  
IT is to be remembered before, how the Lord Gwaltero, the Lord of Menew, and Sir Henault, with divers others, taking on them the search of their King, began their journey from Maiance, resolving not to return with out some certain news of him whom they sought for: thus travailing on together through most part of Denmark, they happened at length coming into a Forest, to meet a Squire on horseback, making all the speed that possibly he might: ever looking backwards, as if some body had pursued him. At length, meeting with the Lord Gwaltero, and the rest of the company, who were in all to the number of twelve Knights, besides their Squires, and thinking by the costly Armour which he ware, him to be the chiefest in the company, alighted from his horse, and falling on his knees, with the tears standing in his eyes, spoke as followeth.  
Most courteous Knight, for so much my mind assureth you to be, I humbly beseech you, and the rest of your company here present, for the honour of knighthood, and the love that you ought to bear to all distressed Ladies and Damsels, that you will do so much as secure and revenge a most beautiful Lady, who even now in this Forest being travailing to a brother's house of hers, some 3. leagues distance from her own, being accompanied with her husband, my Lord and Master, and some four or five attendants more, whom I fear me by this time are all near-hand slain, or grievously wounded, by a rank Traitor, who having long time sued unto my Lady for lascivious love, and not being able to maintain the same, by reason of her chaste and honest denials: this morning, knowing that she was to pass this way, accompanied himself with some ten or twelve, as wickedly disposed as himself, whom he had made acquainted with his villainous pretence, unawares set upon us, & at the first encounter grievously wounded my Lord, by reason he was unarmed, having nothing but his sword to defend himself, as not doubting any such evil.  
Thus concluding his tale with whole floods of tears, which issued from his sorrowful eyes, which moved pity in all the beholders, especially in the Lord Gwaltero, who not long before had tasted the like mishap: willing the squire to stand up, and comfort himself, assuring him, that he had met with those, who would revenge the wrong which he had declared unto them. Wherefore willing him to show which way he should take, he set spurs to his horse, and galloped as fast as he could, hoping to come soon enough to their succour: which when the rest of his company beheld, they followed after as fast as they could, but had not rodden long before they had lost sight of him, by reason of the thickness of the wood, and the swiftness of his horse, which was accounted to be the best in all the Kingdom. Thus galloping onwards, at length he came where the way divided itself into three several paths, and taking that on the right hand, as thinking it to be the right way, he road on still, never looking back for his company, so earnest was his mind, set on the rescue of the Lady and her husband. The rest coming after, when they came unto the place where the way divided itself, knew not well what to do, nor which way to take, yet at length, being directed by the Squire, the most of them, as Sir Henault, and the Lord of Menew, took that way which led directly forth between the other two, appointing some to take the other ways to follow the Lord Gwaltero, if peradventure he had miss in his way. Amongst which his Squire, & two other Knights, the one named Sir Brews, the other Sir Cadrus, took the way which he before had roden.  
The Lord Gwaltero, as we have said before, being pricked on with a desire to rescue those which were distressed, made such haste, that after he had passed the place where the ways divided itself, and having rodden about two miles from the place, met with a peasant driving of cattle before him, of whom he inquired, whether he had seen any company thereabouts fight? or any Knights or gentlemen slain? The peasant made answer he saw no such, but some half a mile before, he met four Knights crossing the way towards a little Castle, some two leagues of, leading a very fair Lady pitifully weeping, whom he thought they constrained to go onwards against her will. When Gwaltero had heard this, he assured himself that this was the same Lady whom he went to rescue, wherefore demanding which way they went, the peasant showed him where they were riding up a little hill, almost a mile before him, which when he beheld, he spurred on faster than before he had done, so that before they were attained unto the sight of their Castle, he had overtaken them in a fair meadow, between two small hills. And calling to them, said, traitors turn, and deliver me that Lady, whom so villainously you have carried away, or your lives shall pay my sword her ransom.  
They hearing him call, and looking back, seeing but one Knight alone pursuing them, stayed, and he who led the Lady's horse by the rains, being a very big and comely Knight, answered: foolish and most simple Knight, thinkest thou me so fond or faint hearted, that only at thy threats, who art able to perform nothing but in words, I will deliver this my prize whom I have gotten so hardly, and with the price of much blood, or that my love towards her is so small, so lightly to part from her. No, no, I counsel thee rather for thy own safeguard to departed away, or else this my Lance shall make your passport to old Charon. Gwaltero hearing this, and being no longer able to endure those braves, placed his Lance in his rest, and setting spurs to his horse, they ran together like lightning, and at the encounter their spears slew into the air, Gwaltero passing on without any hurt at all, but the other Knight whose name was Brandoll, being wounded a little in the left side, was so sore astonished with the stroke, that he could hardly contain himself, from falling from his horse: which Gwaltero perceiving, his carreare ended, returned again with his sword in his hand, than meeting the one the other, there began a fierce and doubtful combat, which had forthwith ended by a stroke that the Lord Gwaltero gave him on the right shoulder, which was so mighty, that breaking his pouldron, wounded him shrewdly in the shoulder, and sliding down farther, cut him into the thigh, with pain whereof he fell from his horse: which when the rest of his company beheld, all at once they assailed him, charging him so roughly, that he was likely to have gone besides his Saddle, had he not taken hold on the horse main with his hands, but they had no great cause long to boast thereof, for gathering all his forces together, and raising himself in his stirrup, he took one of them so sound a blow on the Helm, that the steel not able to keep out the stroke, clave his head to the teeth, to the great discomfort of the rest. Who seeing one of their company slain, and their Captain lying on the ground, in little better sort, determined either to be revenged, or else to follow them in the like misfortune: raging & chafing, the one only Knight should be able to make resistance against them: assaulted him more fiercely than they had done before. One of them whose Lance remained whole, determined to charge him on the back, and coming behind him with his full carreare, at such a time as he was raising himself in his stirrups, to have stricken one that was before him, gave him such a cruel stroke, that caused him tumble headlong over his horse neck, and had not his Armour been exceeding good, that blow had made an end of the combat: but he who was reserved for other purposes, feeling himself so cowardly stricken, quickly recovered his feet, and defended himself valiantly, though with more disadvantage than before, whereby he received many wounds, and was likely to have been overcome, for by this time Brandoll had again recovered his scences, and seeing the Knight who had brought him into that case, to continue still fight, against his Knights, and had already slain one of them, being urged forwards, both with shame and grief, taking his sword in his hand, he ran upon him like a fierce unskilful mastiff, who being once tossed by the sturdy bull, cometh on more hastily than before: but Gwaltero perceiving him coming, seeming to meet him lightly, made a thrust at one of the Knight's horses, which charged him on horseback, which thrust lighted so luckily, that so piercing his belly, he caused him with his Master to tumble to the ground, where by reason of one of his feet being in the stirrup, he could not so suddenly rise again, by which means Gwaltero the more nasier dealt with Brandoll, and the other Knight, who seeing his fellows mischance, dismounted himself for fear of the like mishap: now grew the foot combat more hot and fierce then that on horseback, by reason that Gwaltero perceiving himself almost wearied, and fearing the coming of the other Knight, whose foot was in the stirrup under his horse, laid on with all his might, but Brandoll being a strong Knight as most in that Country, seemed to set light by his fury, and charged him again with so many mighty blows, as well he gave him to understand, that he knew better how to fight on foot, then on horseback.  
The good Lady in the mean time sat weeping on her palfrey, being held by two of Brandolls' Squires, ever praying and beseeching God, to preserve and defend the strange Knight, whose virtue and prowess she much admired, and whom she feared was not long able to endure the brunt of the battle, for that the other Knight having recovered himself from under his horse, came likewise to to the combat, to her great grief and sorrow. But casting away her head from the sight of the battle, as loath to see the death of him, who had so valiantly fought in her defence, she espied two Knights with a Squire, come galloping as fast as their horses could run, whom she likewise feared to be some of Brandolls company, but therein she was deceived as you shall hear in the next Chapter.   

CHAP. IX. How Sir Brews, and Sir Cadrus, with the Lord Gwalteros Squire came to his rescue, and how they conducted the Lady to her Castle.  
SIR Brews, and Sir Cadrus the two Knights, which took the way after the Lord Gwaltero, accompanied with his Squire, thinking because he had taken the wrong way, that he should have had no occasion of fight, made the lesser speed after him, until such time, that coming unto the top of the hill which he had passed, where the peasant showed him the four Knights that led away the Lady, from which place they beheld them fight, and thinking that it might be Gwaltero, they set spurs to their horses, and galloped so fast, that they were come within the calling, even as the Knight who was hanging by the stirrupe had recovered himself. Then Sir Cadrus cried to the said villains, give over fight with that alone Knight, and defend yourselves from the force of my Lance, and there with gave one of them so sound a buffet, that he had no need at all to seek for a Surgeon, for his Lance entering in at his breast, passed through his heart almost a yard. Sir Brews ran at the other and miss course, but turning again with his sword in his hand, gave him such a blow on the head, that cleaving his Helm, and wounding him somewhat deep, caused him half astonished to fall to the ground. Gwaltero seeing this unexpected aid, being almost before in utter despair of victory, gave Brandoll a sore blow on the right leg, and closing with him, by clean force overthrew him to the ground, then setting his foot on his neck, he razed of his Helm, and with one blow parted his head from his shoulders. And coming to the other whom Sir Brews had wounded, would have done as much for him, but that he immediately fell on his knees, crying for mercy, protesting for ever after to be at his command in all places whatsoever. Gwaltero upon this his promise, granted him pardon, swearing him for ever after, not to offer wrong nor violence, to any Lady or Gentlewoman.  
Then turning to Sir Brews, and Sir Cadrus, he gave them hearty thanks for their succour, without which he had been doubtless slain. Demanding of them likewise, what was become of the Lord of Menew, sir Henault, and the rest. And they told him how they parted at the 3. ways, to go secure the Lady whom he had so well rescued, telling him likewise, that they did admire how or by what means the Lady was brought thither, seeing it was in the other way that led directly forward that they set on her and her husband, as the Squire informed them.  
By this time the Lady being let go by the two Squires that held her, (who seeing their Master slain, made haste by flight to save their own lives, which they might easily do, for that no man pursued them,) came unto the Lord Gwaltero, and falling on her knees before him, gave him most humble thanks, as well for the safeguard of her own honour, which she esteemed far afore life, as also for revenging her husband's death: whom Brandoll in the former fight had slain, with some two or three of their servants, who put themselves in their defence, with all, offering him many large proffers for reward. But Gwaltero taking her by the hand, raised her from the ground, willing her to be of good comfort, assuring her whatsoever he had done for her, was but his, and the duty of every good Knight, and therefore willed her to attribute it, not to him but to God, who is the revenger of all wrongs: and to account of him but as an instrument, appointed by God to minister justice on those murderers. Then the Lady entreated him and the rest, to conduct her unto a Castle of hers, some two leagues of, where she would entreat them to rest themselves, until such time as his wounds were thoroughly cured, which should be done by a damsel of hers, very expert in the Art of Surgery. Unto which request, they easily consented, especially the Lord Gwaltero, whose heart was already wounded with the Lady's beauty. Then binding up his wounds as well as they could, they mounted on horseback, directing their course towards the foresaid Castle, & the better to pass away the time, Gwaltero began to question with the Lady of many matters, especially of the cause of the late combat, which she declared unto him, with such a modest and comely grace, that he being before a little wounded with Cupid's shaft, was now so altogether overcome with love, that either he must needs sue for grace, or die by concealing his affection: so fervent was the flame, and so weak his resistance.  
By this time were they passed most part of their way, and were come unto the Castle, even about the time, that the Sun drawing into the West, seemed to take leave of the view of these hither Regions, where by the Lady they were most kindly received: and welcomed with such cheer, as the suddenness of the time could afford. After Supper, the Lord Gwaltero being brought into a most goodly and fair Chamber, had his wounds carefully looked unto, and dressed. Then being laid in a rich bed, embroidered very costly with gold and pearl, and curiously wrought with imagery, and other sumptuous shows, where being laid, the good Lady courteously bade him good night, willing him to command for all things in the Castle as his own. Then departing away, leaving him in a world of imaginations, she took order for the interring of her Husband's body, which the next day was effected with great solemnity, according to the custom of the country then used.   

CHAP. X. how Gwaltero, with his company, staying the healing of his wounds, made his love known to the Lady, with his success therein, and of his departure in his quest.  
THE Lord Gwaltero and his company, staying the curing of his wounds, which were most carefully looked unto, and dressed by the same Damsel which had them in cure, was every day visited continually by the Lady of the place, who showed herself so thankful unto him, that she almost never would departed from his presence, which bred in him such ardent desire, that not being able longer to conceal his love, one day she being sitting by his bedside, none being in presence, but his Squire, and the damsel that attended his wounds, taking her by the hand, and fixing his eyes steadfastly on her face, said.  
Gracious Lady, I do not know, neither can I imagine, how these my speeches, which at this time I shall be forced to vetter, may be by you accepted, yet trusting in the gentleness of your kind nature, have made choice rather to open my grief unto you, then by concealing thereof, or ever to languish in pain. Know then, that since the first time it was my hap (when I fought with Brandoll and his company) for to see you, that then your rare and singular beauty, wounded me more far deeper, than did either their swords or Lances, which since by your continual courtesies, and by your many exquisite virtues, which I have behold in you, are so much augmented and increased, that unless you of your excellent bounty, take pity and compassion on me, and with speed yield some relief, unto this my oppressed passions, I know not what to expect save death only, which if you should prove pitiless, it would be most welcome unto me: wherefore let me entreat you, to consider these my passions, and to ease them with pity, and thereby shall you gain unto your self for ever, a true Knight, and a constant lover. Thus concluding his speech with a most deep sigh, proceeding from the bottom of his heart, he remained silent, attending her answer, which should be to him either as life or death, to which she replied.  
My Lord, I cannot but muse at this your discourse, neither can I choose but smile, to see your honour so merrily disposed, to jest at me in this kind of sort, hoping that mirth is a sign of the amendment of your wounds, which to me would be most joyful, seeing that in my defence you received them. But if these your speeches proceed from you in earnest, know then, that the beauty which you say hath inflamed you, in my conceit is of no such force, as to wound a man of your worth, neither is it likely that so sudden a liking as you speak of, should be able to work any such effect, if my courtesies have been the cause, they were never more than you deserved, and therefore to be esteemed by you as a debt due from me to be paid: if my virtues which you speak of, they alas are so few, and small, that they are not to be accounted of, but yet such I hope, which rather should give you an occasion, to seek to others, than any show to yield unto your lawless love: for know for a surety that Menea, for so was she called, regardeth more her honour & good name, than she doth all the riches or wealth of this world, knowing the one to be but momentary, the other perpetual: wherefore I beseech your honour to give of these vain suits. But if you seek to enjoy me as your wife, which I think you will take scorn of, I being but a poor Lady, and descended but of a mean Parentage, in respect of your Lordship, yet notwithstanding consider I beseech you, the late death of my husband, whom if I should so soon forget, it would for ever be accounted a great ignomy, and shame unto me.  
The Lord Gwaltero, at these last speeches interrupting her, replied, most beautiful Lady, think not that I go about any way to dishonour you, neither that those my former speeches to be feigned, but whatsoever I have spoken to proceed from the sincerity, and bottom of my harf, which is, and for ever shall remain yours, whilst the fates shall permit me to enjoy this breath, which I wish no longer to continue, than I remain your faithful and constant Knight protesting before the almighty God: never to accept of any other wife, so you thereto consent, in witness whereof, I here deliver you this ring: then taking a fair Diamond from one of his fingers, he would have put it on hers, but she withdrawing her hand, made him answer, that she had made a solemn vow to God, which she was minded to perform, which was, that for one whole year, she would never consent to marry with any one whatsoever, but if it pleased his Lordship, so to esteem of her, as to accept her for his wife, at the end of that appointed time which she had set: he should find her most ready & willing to obey unto his will, in any that might not be to her dishonour.  
Gwaltero gladded to the heart, with this heavenly conclusion, and being as one newly revived out of some dead trance, took her in his arms and kissed her, protesting that he would most willingly remain so contented, until the fixed time were expired, and then God willing, he would return and espouse her: in the mean time he entreated her, to accept of that his small Ring, which should be a cause for her to remember him by, which she then most willingly accepted, and in requital thereof, gave unto him a jewel of hers, which he always after either in Tilt or Turnie wore, being fastened in the crest of his Helm, and which at all times put him in mind of his Lady and Mistress. Thus by the coming in of Sir Cadrus, and Sir Brews, with divers Gentlemen and Damsels, which came to see the Lord Gwaltero, their love talk gave over for that time, entertaining the others with divers pleasant and merry discourses, wherewith they accustomed to pass away the time, ever thinking it long till they might be in their former quest, which was the sooner, for that Gwaltero being comforted, with the hope of future pleasure and content, was healed much the sooner of his wounds, so that within fifteen days, he was able to bear Armour: and finding himself indifferent strong, took order with the rest of his company, the next day to departed onwards, on their way towards the confines of Denmark, where they hoped to have some joyful tidings of him whom they sought, or at least ways to meet again with the Lord Menew, & Sir Henault, whom the Lord Gwaltero dearly loved. Thus having taken order for the preparing of their journey, the next day they all took their leave of their kind hostis: and Gwaltero taking her aside, desired her with the tears standing in his eyes, to be mindful of her former promise, assuring her, if God did grant him life and liberty, he would return against the fixed time by her appointed, to solemnize their marriage, in the mean time he would commend her into the protection of the almighty God. But she good Lady, not being able to speak for weeping, held him about the neck, often kissing him, as one loath so soon to forego his company, yet at the last, seeing no remedy, entreated him to remember her and his promise, until which time of his return, she would spend her days in prayer, for his safe and prosperous success. Thus departed these two Lovers, whom we will leave for a while, to speak of other matters.   

CHAP. XI. How the Lord of Menew and Sir Henault, happened to arrive in the City of Paris, & of the Turnie there proclaimed by the Duke of Orleans.  
THe Lord of Menew, and Sir Henault, taking the direct way which they were informed, to rescue the Lady, and her husband, road on a great pace, till such time that coming unto the place, where the battle had been fought but a little before, found the dead bodies of the ancient Knight, and divers of his servants: but for the murderers, they could not know what was become of them, because they had taken a buy and unknown way, which led them as before is said, unto their destruction. Wherefore taking their way towards the next Town, they road on hastily, minding to stay there until they might hear some news of the Lord Gwaltero, whom they imagined would likewise arrive there, the next day at the farthest. But hereof being deceived by reason of the occasions before recited, after they had remained there some three days looking for him, they departed towards the Seaside, and coming to a Town called Forefront, they found divers Ships bound to several coasts, wherefore dividing their selves, some to one Country, some into another, the Lord of Menew, & Sir Henault, being loath to part company, shipped themselves for France, hoping there either to find him whom they sought for, or else to purchase fame by their prowess within that Kingdom: and sooner than in any other might it be obtained, if they showed themselves valorous, by reason of the continual tournaments, which were daily used there by the Nobles, and Knights of tha region. And being shipped, and having wind at will, they set sail so prosperously, that within eight days after they landed at Calais: where they a while stayed, as well to refresh themselves after their coming from the Sea, as also to view the Town and Country thereabouts, and to make inquiry, if peradventure they might hear of him, in whose Quest they went.  
Thus having stayed there twelve or fourteen days, not learning any news at all of their infortunate King, they took their way towards the royal City of Paris, where the King then kept his Court, with a great assembly of Lords and Ladies, which were then drawn together to behold a great Tourney, proclaimed by the Duke of Orleans, by the King's consent, against all strangers: the occasion of which Tourney grew by this means. The Duke being a lusty young Knight, was enamoured on the Kings eldest daughter, a most beautiful and goodly Lady, who for her grace, virtues, and beauty, had not her equal in all the kingdom of France, being called Emilia, whose perfections had so entangled his heart, that he could not by any means free himself from being thrall to her beauty: and thinking no means better to win a fair Lady, then by showing himself valiant, he continually frequented Tylts and Turnyes, oftentimes carrying away the chiefest prizes of valour: which was a means not only to obtain great love, and favour of the King, but also drew to him some liking of his Lady and Mistress, the Princes Emilia, which she sometimes would make show of, by her kind countenance, and pleasant speeches to him: which courtesies put him in such an exceeding hope, and pride withal, that thinking himself half sure of her love, and that being graced with the same, no man was able to compare with him, neither in happiness nor valour: one day perceiving the King to be walking alone, in a pleasant & delightful Garden, adjoining to the Palace, came unto him, and falling into some conference with him, at last entreated his Majesty to grant him leave to proclaim a Tourney, which he, and some certain number of Knights of the Court, would defend against all comers, for the space of 3 days. And that after, by the space of six days more, he himself would keep the field, and defend against all comers, his Mistress the Princess Emilia, to excel all others in beauty, whatsoever.  
The King hearing his demand, and considering the great danger which thereby might happen to him, dissuaded him from it, assuring him, that it would be impossible to continue against so many, as would hazard themselves in that enterprise: and that although he by his valour might overcome many hardy and gallant Knights, yet at length, being weary, & tired with overmuch labour, might peradventure be vanquished, by one inferior to those whom before he had subdued, whereby he should lose his former reputation, gotten with no small peril and danger. This and many other matters, did the King allege unto him, to cause him to give over that enterprise. But he being as is before said, so puffed up with a self conceit, & assurance of Fortune's favour, imagining that on whom Venus smiled, Mars would not seem to frown, continued still very importive, till at length, the King being overcome by his earnestness, granted to his suit. Presently causing Heralds and messengers to be sent abroad into divers places, to give notice thereof: that every one which desired to try his fortune in his loves commendation, might be there to make trial at the day appointed.  
In the mean time, the Duke ordained a place for the Tylt-yard, which was hard adjoining to the Palace, which he caused to be environed in with rails of great height, appointing at each end a large gate or entrance, that ten Knights on horseback might enter in front. The space within the rails, was of that bigness, so that 5000 knights might well tourney togethers, & round about were scaffolds erected for the beholders to sit on, saving that part next to the Palace, which was open for the King, the Queen, and their Lord & Ladies, who standing in the windows, and battlements of the Palace, might with more safety behold the Tourney. Likewise he caused another place to be enclosed, with only one gate or entrance, hard adjoining to the part of the Palace, where the King with the rest, might more convenietly stand, to behold the single combats which by him should be fought: and at the other end, he caused a rich Tent to be pight, which was of Blue velvet, set thick with stars of gold, and Flowre-deluces, showing that he was descended from the blood royal. Upon the top thereof stood Cupid, all naked, with his bow and arrow in his hand, aiming directly at a fair picture of Marble, which stood fast by the said Tent: on the top whereof was placed the portraiture of the beautiful Princess Emilia, which was so artificially made, that it seemed to be the princess herself: under whose feet were divers places made, for placing of their pictures, whose Knights should be over come by the Duke.  
In this sort was all things ordained against the turnie, when the Lord Menew, Sir Henault, and divers other Knights, came into the City, some two days before the Tourney began, where they took up their lodging in an honest Burgesses house, making preparation for such things as they should want against the day.   

CHAP. XII. How the Duke, and the rest of the Lords and Knights bore themselves in the Tourney, and how Prince Edward the last day bore away the Prize.  
THe day being come that the Tourney should begin, and many Knights, and great Lords of divers Countries come thither, some only to see, others to prove themselves therein. The Duke of Orleans, as chief Challenger, accompanied with the Duke of anjou, the Lord Mompenscer, the Duke Robert of Normandy, the Marshal de Berone, Francis the young Prince of Condy, together with two thousand other Knights, entered the Lists at one end, at the other entered Charles the young Prince of Spain, accompanied with Edward Prince of England, the Duke of York, the Lord Mowbray, the lord Douglas of Scotland, the County of Zealand, the lord Mongomery, the young Henry of Bourbon, two French lords, who because they were not entreated by the Duke, and partly by reason they meant to prove themselves against him, in the behalf and trial of their Mistress beauty, entered the field against him, with the number of two thousand, taking their places as he before had done.  
The King and Queen being placed, all the other princes, Lords, and Ladies, took also their places, where Emilia sitting amongst the rest, seemed like Cynthia, placed amongst the lesser Stars, being in the fullness of her power: or like Diana following her chase thorough the woods and lawns, accompanied with her train of Nymphs, whose pain in pursuit, had raised in her Alabaster cheeks, a lively vermilion die: so seemed the beautiful Princess, having in her well proportioned face, the lovely rose and lily, striving for maisterdome, which caused the lusty young Duke to be of such a courageous mind, that not being able longer to desist from the battle, desired the Duke of Britain, and the County Palatine of Rene, who were appointed judges of the field, to cause the signal of battle to begin, which was presently done, by the sound of a trumpet, and the Heralds crying to the Knights, every man to do his best.  
Then ran together, the Duke of Orleans, and Edward Prince of England, and met so fiercely together, that the Duke breaking his Lance on his enemy's shield, caused him to stagger, and had he not taken hold by his main, he had gone to measure his length on the ground, but the English Prince met him with no lesser might, for piercing his shield, his Lance lighted on his Gorget, causing him to lose both his stirrups, & with his head almost to touch the pummel of his saddle, which being seen by the King, was greatly commended: the Prince Charles of Spain, and Robert of Normandy met likewise, and breaking their spears, passed on without once moving on the other, the Marshal of Berone, was dismounted by the Lord Mowbray, but rescued by the Duke of Anjou and others. By this time were the greatest part of the Knights met together, so that the clouds seemed to be covered, with the splinters of the Lances which were broken many on both sides were unhorsed, and again remounted by their fellows, there might you have seen some using swords, other maces of Iron: twice that day was the Prince Charles, beaten from his horse, and again remounted by the Duke of York, and Henry of Bourbon. The Lord Douglas, this day showed, that the Scots were not much inferriour unto any Nation for feats of Chivalry, for being accompanied with the Lord Montgomerie, the Lord of Menew, Sir Henault, the County of Zealand, and some ten or twelve other Knights, beat down all those which put themselves against them, which being seen to the Duke of Orleans was worse than death, who being held very short by Prince Edward, the Lord Mowbray and others, so that he could hardly help any others, yet seeing the havoc which was made by the Scot and his company, fearing lest they were prevented, he should lose the day: set spurs to his horse, and with his sword in his hand made such way, that at last he came where they were, and lifting up his sword, gave the Scottish Earl such a blow, that bruising his Helm, caused him to fall besides his saddle, which blow being seen by Sir Henault, was likewise partly revenged: for with one blow which he struck, he cloven the Duke's shield, and sliding downwards, wounded his horse in the shoulder. In the mean time the Spanish, and English Princes with their company, were like to have won the day, for that the French, no longer able to endure their extreme blows, began for to turn their backs: which being perceived by the judges, they forthwith caused the retreat to be sounded, thereby to save the Challengers from shame. Then departed every man the Lists for that night, returning to their lodgings, to refresh themselves against the next day: the King to show the more honour unto the strange Princes, sent for them, desiring them for that night, to sup and rest themselves in his Palace: unto which many of them consented, where at supper they were royally feasted, and welcomed by the King and Queen. And after the Tables being withdrawn, they fell to dancing, masking, and courting of the Ladies and damsels: where the young Prince Edward dallying with the fire, was scorched by the flame, for taking the Prince's Emilia by the hand to dance, after they had ended their measure, fell to court her with pleasant speeches, which she still most wittily answered, which Cupid beholding, wounded his heart with a poisoned shaft of love, turning his jest into earnest: thus passed they away most part of the night in dancing and reveling, until such time, that jove his eternal lamps, wherewith he lights the neither world were half spent, and Atlas moist daughters strove into the Ocean deep, to drive their weary drove: then departed these to their beds, where every one quietly took their rest, except the English Prince, who of all the night could not enjoy any sleep, so sorely did the remembrance of his new love torment him, sometimes determining to ask her of her Father, then thinking the Duke to have a former promise of her, seeing he undertook the defence of her beauty, was minded to fight with him for her, hoping either to kill him, and so to get her, or else by vanquishing him, to win away her love. With these and many such like imaginations, passed he away the wearisome night, until about the break of the day, Somnus seized on his over-watched eyes: so that he slept until the sun was two degrees from the earth ascended, then rising up he appareled himself, and went down into the great Hall, where he found the King, withal the other Princes and great estates, ready to go to the Chapel, to hear divine service: whether likewise he accompanied them, afterwards returning to the Palace, they found the Tables covered for dinner, where they were all served according to their estates, with most costly and dainty cates. Dinner being ended, every one went to arm themselves for the Turnie: where the strangers bore themselves so valiantly, that they won the honour from the Courtiers, which was such an extreme grief unto the Duke of Orleans, that for that night he would not come to the Palace, vowing the next day to be revenged, especially on the English Prince and his company, who twice that day had beaten him from his horse. Most part of the rest spent the time, as they did the night before in dancing, and such like pastime, where again the English Prince, found means to Court his Lady, declaring unto her his love & affection: but she, who as yet was another ways minded, made small account of his prattle, scarce believing any thing that he said touching love. The next day the trumpets sounding, warned the Knights to prepare for the Turnie, every one desirous to show himself valiant and hardy: when entering the Lists at the first encounter, the English Prince seeing the chief Challenger coming against him, and looking up to the window where Emilia sat, calling to mind his former determinations, was resolved to do him the greatest disgrace he might: the Duke on the other side was of the same opinion, for he greatly feared lest the Prince would prove his corival in love, by the often casting up of his head to the window where she sat. Thus being both resolved, they met together so furiously, that the Duke was forced to forego his saddle, and measure his length on the grass, the Prince passing forwards sorely shaken, having lost both his stirrups: at length recovering himself, entered the press, where on all sides he beat down Knights, and unbarred Helms, making such way where he went, that he might easily be followed of his company, especially the Prince Charles, Henry of Bourbon, Sir Henault, the Lord of Menew, the Lord of York, the Lord Mowbray, and others, who following the young Prince, overthrew all they met, causing the French to give back and retire, every man thinking himself happiest, when he was farthest of.  
On the contrary side, Robert of Normandy, the Prince of Condie, the Duke of Anjou, and the Marshal: with the aid of their followers, made that part where they were very hot and dangerous to the strangers, unhorssing and beating down many. The Duke of Anjou, with his Lance before he broke, struck down three Knights to the earth, at last, being encountered by the Lord Douglasse, was dismounted and taken prisoner, in despite of all his company. The Duke of Orleans, being again remounted, went raging up and down seeking for the English Prince, and coming to the Lord of Menew, gave him such a blow, that he drove both horse and man to the ground, which being seen by Sir Henault, like a man enraged rod to him, and gave him such a blow, that he caused him to bow his head to his breast. But the Duke recovering himself, returned him the like payment. Thus continued they two, laying the one on the other, like two Smiths, striking with their sleadges on an Anvil: till such time as the English Prince, with a mace of steel in his hand returned, & gave the Duke so puissant a blow therewith, that breaking his shield in pieces, so amazed him, that his horse carried him from place to place in a sound, which being seen by the King, and thinking the Duke to be sore hurt: imagined likewise that it was impossible for any man to endure those mighty blows, which he continually saw the Prince to give, caused the judges to make an end of the battle, which was presently done, every one attributing the chief honour to the English Prince, especially the King, causing forthwith a Herald of Arms to proclaim him, the chiefest Knight in the asembly: and being brought to the window where the King say, by the judges of the field, had a Garland of flowers set upon his head by the fair Emilia. Which as she was doing, unawares was something touched with love towards him, which being by her then suffered to kindle, afterwards grew into a great flame. Thus being crowned as King of all Knights, he was conducted with great honour to the Palace, the Duke of Orleans, being mightily grieved with his disgrace, as also fearing the dislike of Emilia, retired to his Tent, minding not to come forth of the Lists, till such time as he had recovered some part of his lost honour.   

CHAP. XIII. How the Duke defending his Lady's beauty, overcame divers Knights, & how the English Prince being disguised, entered the Lists.  
THe next day, no sooner had bright Aurora unbard her crystal gates, and bridegroom like stepped forth, the glorious sun spreading her silver rays on old Neptune's face, but that the lusty Duke pricked on with his former days disgrace, hoping to recover his lost honour, was all armed, sitting on horseback with his Lance in his hand, causing the trumpets to sound, to summon unto the battle those, who in defence of their Lady's beauties, would hazard themselves, to try the doubtful verdict of angry Mars. The Duke bare in his shield the portraiture of a man, with the one hand renting his own bowels, and with the other presenting his heart to a fair Lady, which seemed little to regard or to esteem the same, with this word or motto written over their heads, I live through hope: all the rest of his Armour was set full of flaming hearts, which seemed very lively to burn.  
He had not long remained on horseback, before such time that the King, and most part of the Lords and Princes, having taken their places to behold the issue of his enterprise, there entered the lists a gallant young Knight, son unto the Marcus of Ferara, his Armour all green, and in his Shield he bore two hearts combined in one, with these words, Nil timeo. He brought likewise a small chest covered over with thin plates of silver, in which was enclosed the lively portraiture of his Lady, who was daughter unto the Duke of Milan. In this sort coming unto the Duke, he told him, unless he were misinformed, the contents of his Challenge was, that those Knights that by him were overcome, should leave behind them their coate-armors, and also their Mistrises portraiture, to be placed at the feet of the fair Emilia, and so to departed: but whosoever should overcome him, should likewise have the disposing of the portraitures that there were hanging, and to defend the Challenge the rest of the time, except he happened likewise to be vanquished. The Duke answered, that the same was his Challenge: but the coate-armors were to be put of presently if they were unhorsed, and afterwards, if they would hazard the Combat with him, they should. And as for the portraitures, he hoped his should be the first which should be placed, seeing the difference of their beauties did already manifest it.  
Then departing the one from the other, they placed their Lances in their rests, and setting spurs to their horses, they met together so fiercely, that their Spears flew into the air: and coming together with their bodies, they struck one the other so rudely, that the Duke lost both his stirrups, and was forced to stay himself by his horse neck, but the other was overthrown horse & man to the ground, and by chance not able to clear himself, was sore bruised by his horse, not being able to get up again: then the Duke dismounting, holp to get him from under his horse, which courtesy the other perceiving, presently put off his coate-armor and departed the Lists, being by reason of his bruise not able to combat. Then the Duke caused his Lady's picture to be placed at the feet of Emilia, and calling unto him one of his Pages, sent her the Coate-armor, which she received, willing him to tell his Master, he had done more than she desired.  
Next unto him of Ferrara, entered the Lists that day, the Lord of Montgomery, bringing with him the picture of the Duke of poitiers daughter, whom he earnestly loved, and was likewise at the second course unhorsed, to his great sorrow, but yet not minding to hazard the Combat, because the Duke was accounted the best combatter on foot in all France, departed. After him came divers others, who were all served in the same sort, for that day he unhorsed in all the number of 22. Knights, placing their Lady's Pictures according to their deserts. The next day came into the Lists young Henry of Bourbon, very desirous to be revenged, for the disgrace of the Lord Montgomery his cousin, yet also bringing with him the picture of a Damsel whom he somewhat loved: but his coming was more to win honour on the Duke, then to obtain his mistresses favour. He bore in his Shield, Paris and the three Goddesses, but giving the Apple to neither, with this motto, Cuique nescio, signifying thereby the unconstancy of his mind in love. At the first course they broke their Lances to their hands, not so much as once moving one the other: then taking new Lances, they met again so furiously, that Henry had much to do to keep his saddle, and the Duke losing one of his stirrups, and his rains of his bridle, passed on likewise, and making an end of their carreare, Henry returned with his sword in his hand, which the Duke perceiving, drew forth his also, beginning between them a right fierce and dangerous conflict. But the Duke being better experienced fought with the greater advantage, giving Henry leave a while to follow the rage of his fury, thereby the sooner to weary himself. Which indeed he did, when the Duke more fiercely than before assaulted him, causing him to seek how to cover and defend himself under his shield. At length, being wounded in many places, and having lost very much blood, he fell from his horse in aswound, to the great grief of the King, & all the beholders, who greatly feared lest he had been slain. But being conveyed out of the field, and his wounds bound up, and staunched, he was soon brought to himself.  
After him, the Duke overcame twelve other Knights, not any of them being able to endure against him, so intolerable were his blows: which the English Prince perceiving, and grieving to behold, the next day determined unknown to any one, to enter the Lists disguised, where he did not doubt but he would soon abate his pride, and resolving hereof, the next morning he armed himself, and being mounted on a good horse, his Armour seeming all rusty, and his shield covered over with leather, painted with a Kite and an Eagle flying after a Dove, with this word, Not to obtain, he entered the lists, even at such time as the Duke had overthrown an Enlish Knight which put himself against him.   

CHAP. XIIII. How Prince Edward overcame the Duke, and afterwards continued in the Lists the rest of the time, overcoming divers Knights, and of his declaring his love to Emilia.  
THE Prince being entered as afore is declared, gave cause of admiration unto all beholders, as well by reason of his furniture, as also the device of his Shield, yet was he by the King and divers others much commended, for his cunning proportion, & gallant managing of his horse, the King saying unto the Queen & the Duke of Britain, that he much feared, lest that Knight would bear away all the honour from the Duke, which in the two former days he had won. But the Duke himself being puffed up with the former victories, nothing at all esteemed him, and coming unto him, demanded for his Lady's picture, for whose favour he was to undertake the Combat.  
The strange Knight replied, that her pieture was enclosed in his heart, and travailing through that Country, hearing of his Challenge, came purposely tother to try his fortune against him, not having the time to provide any other portraiture, then that which he had already told him of. The Duke made answer, that then he could not combat against him, in regard that overcoming him, he should lose the guerdon of his Conquest. But yet seeing he had such an earnest desire, he should in steed of her picture, leave behind him both his Lady's name, and his shield, to be placed at his disposition.  
The Prince hereto willingly consented: and casting his eye to the place where the Ladies were standing, after a little pause, said. Know then Sir Duke that the Lady whom I so much love and esteem, and whose virtues and graces are so deeply fixed in my heart, that nought but death can extinguish the same, is the most exquisite, & beautiful Princess Emilia here present.  
The Duke being no longer able to hearken to his speeches, being his corival: answered, no doubt but thy folly, hath overcome thy brains, & rightly doth the figure on thy shield signify thy madness, which is the self same Kite there represented, which seeketh before the Eagle to obtain the Dove: but thou shalt presently feel, the reward of thy folly, if thou abide but the stroke of my Lance. Then turning about his horse, not staying for any farther reply, went to fetch his course, the other doing the like, and setting spurs to their horses, placing their staves in their rests, they ran together furiously, & like two fierce rams striving for superiority, leaving a great distance between them, that with the more might, they may come together with their horned heads, so met these worthy Knights, causing their Lances to fly into the air, being broken into a thousand shéevers, and meeting together with their bodies, causes their horses to reel backwards, to the wonder of the beholders, but quickly recovering themselves, they began to assault the one the other: seeking by all means, either, how most to endanger his adversary, and to save himself: at length the English Prince lifting up his sword aloft, stark the Duke directly on the upper part of his shield so strong a blow, that cleaving it into two pieces, his sword passed forwards wounding him in the left thigh, but that blow was not long unrevenged, for lifting up his sword with both hands, & raising himself in his stirrups, gave the Prince such a blow on the head, that had he not taken it with his shield, that blow had ended the battle: but nevertheless, passing through both shield and Helm, he gave him a small hurt in the head, causing him half astonished to reel from side to side, but before he could deliver another blow, the Prince had recovered himself, and coming in more fiercely than before, struck at his head, but by reason of the starting of his horse, the blow lighted on his shoulder, breaking the buckles and revits of his pouldron, and sliding down, gave his horse such a wound, that being no longer able to contain his masters weight, fell to the ground, which the Duke perceiving, made the greater speed to avoid his Saddle, and clearing himself, recovered upon his feet: which the Prince seeing, alighted also, then taking their swords and shields in hand, they began a most cruel and dangerous foot combat, to the amazement of all the beholders, who never had seen the like: for being both enraged with envy and disdain, like Lions meet, or Bulls, or Tigers, fierce pricked on with hunger's rage, finding a prey, or booty to their minds, fall out and strive, and both with teeth, horn, and nails, wound one the other, renting their entrails, and dying themselves, and grass with blood, so strove these two, and with their continued equal fight, their stéely Armour being not able to hold out the blows, nor defend the thrusts, wherewith the one still wounded the other, no man being able to judge, to which side the victory would incline, every one marveling who the strange Knight should be: at last the Duke began somewhat to shrink back, and to bare the remnant of his shield very low, which the Prince perceiving, seemed to increase his strength, and followed him more fiercely than before, driving him from place to place, till at last coming before the window where Emilia stood, the Prince casting up his sight towards her, immediately stood as one in a trance, which the other perceiving, began again to gather courage, and gave him two or three mighty blows, telling him that he would bring him out of his dumps. 'tis true replied the Prince, being half ashamed at his folly, but to your pain. Then plucking up himself, they renewed their battle, which seemed like to the burning of some hidden flax: having a while escaped the extremity of the fire, which had before consumed great woods & trees, and seeming to be extinguished, presently renews a flame again, and so goes out. Such was their latter strife, for the Prince being roused from his slumber, pursued him with so many weighty blows, that the Duke being no longer able to hold out, fell to the ground in a trance: which the judges perceiving, came speedily unto them, fearing lest the strange Knight would have proffered him farther violence, but he, putting up his sword, demanded whether there was aught else to be done. The County Palatine answered, nothing but to defend the place as the Duke had before. Then the Duke was conveyed away, and being unarmed, was dressed by the Surgians, which found no dangerous wound, but that his great loss of blood, caused him to be extreme weak and fainty. The Duke being covayed away, the King was very desirous to know who the strange Knight should be, and being about to send one unto him, to that end. The Prince presented himself before him, and pulling of his Helm, desired his Majesty to grant him leave to continue the Dukes challenged: when the King beheld him, and saw that it was the Prince, who had subdued the Duke, his grief for his hurts, and overthrow was somewhat eased. Then speaking to the Prince, he said, my Lord I did not think you would have thus dealt with us, as unknown, thus to have put us into such grief, as you have done by the wounding, and vanquishing of the Duke our Cousin: yet seeing it was his own folly in making the challenged, it doth the less grieve us. But for your request in continuance thereof: I would wish you rather, to give it over then to endanger yourself therein, but if so be you are so minded, we freely grant you leave, praying to God send you better hap, than the Duke hath had before you. The Prince humbly thanked his Majesty: and then turning to the Princess Emilia, entreated her likewise to grant him leave, as her father had done to defend her beauty, seeing that it was his hap to obtain the same by his good Fortune. The Princess being before hand a little touched with his love, and now seeing the pains and danger, which he undertook for her sake, was altogether overcome: wherefore dying her cheeks with a maidenly blush, she told him the pains which he already took, and that he would again endure for her sake, was unknown unto her: yet because she would not prove discourteous, nor ingrateful, seeing the King her father had thereto consented, she was content to accept him for her Knight, and to allow of that which he requested. The Prince herewith being marvelous contented, returned her hearty thanks, and so departed again to the Tent, where he was met by the Spanish Prince, the Duke of York, and Sir Henault, and many others: and was by them disarmed, and after dinner, his wounds being bound up, he armed himself again in a most costly Armour, set all with true love knots, wrought of pure gold, and being attended by the foresaid Lords, he entered the Lists: where he had not long remained before such time, that there came a Knight of the Kingdom of Naples: a man in those parts famoused for his valour and hardiness, and being enamoured on a young Damsel of that Country, promised her to come into France, whereby his valour, he would cause her to be for ever famoused: but his hap was so hard that at the first encounter, he was sent to measure his length in the ground, not being able to combat. After him that day, and the next day, he unhorsed to the number of 40 Knights: the last day there came very few to try themselves, the most part having in the five former days, been by the Duke foiled, by means whereof he passed away the time in company of the Spanish Prince, and other great Lords, until it was almost Sun set, at which time there entered an ill favoured withered face fellow, something higher than three horse loaves, by birth a pagan, but brought up by the Queen of Portugal, as her Dwarf, this proper aplosquire falling in love with a Damsel, almost as handsome as himself, being likewise attending on the Queen, and having obtained her good liking on that condition, that he should in all places maintain her beauty: desired the Queen that he might be made Knight, assuring her that he would so behave himself, that thee and all others should think the order well bestowed upon him. The Queen seeing his earnestness yielded unto him, and caused him to be Knighted, who no sooner having received the order, and hearing of the Duke of Orleans challenged, but he determined to fight against him, and cause him to confess his peat, to more beautiful than Emilia. Continuing in this imagination, he caused her Picture to be drawn, and therewith came unto Paris, entering the Lists at such time, as the Prince with the other Lords were ready to departed, and coming unto the Spanish Prince, demanded which was he that had overcome the Duke. The Prince marveling to see such a gallant in that equipage, demanded what he would with him, marry quoth the Dwarf fight with him, and cause him to confess, that the Damsel which I love, doth excel in beauty all others: the Prince smiling, having much ado to contain himself from laughter, demanded who was his Lady, and where her Picture was. He answered she was attending on the Queen of Portugal, and therewith drew forth her Picture, at sight whereof every one burst forth in a great laughter. The Dwarf being herewith angry, asked the Prince whether it were he or no that he had inquired for, the Prince answered no, but showed him the English Prince, withal telling him that the time was past, whereby he had lost his labour, unless he could entreat him to Just willingly.  
Then the Dwarf coming unto him, entreated him if the time were passed, that yet in courtesy he would break a Lance with him: he smiling answered, that between that and Sun set, he was bound to Just with any that should come, wherefore he was contented. Then taking each of them a Lance, they ran together: the Prince missing his course of purpose, but the Dwarf with much ado broke his Lance, almost dismounting himself with his own stroke. The King, & Queen, withal the Lords and Ladies, laughed heartily hereat: the Duchess of Burbone telling Emilia, that now her Knight was like to lose all his former honour.  
The Dwarf had no sooner broken his Lance, but presently he drew forth his sword, but the Prince entreated him, to run one course more, which he easily yielded unto, then taking a new spear, they ran again: the Prince taking him in the midst of his Shield, bore him out of his saddle a whole spears length, not being able to rise from the ground. Then was sent unto him by the King, the young Prince Philip his son, to entreat him to come to the Palace, whether he went, being accompanied with divers great Lords and Knights, and was very royally received by the King, the Queen, and their fair daughter, and feasted with many sumptuous and rare sorts of viands, after supper, they fell again to their wont sports of dancing and masking: where the English Prince again made his love known unto Emilia, assuring her, that unless she pitied his estate, he was but dead, for without her, he was but as a shadow without substance, or as a body without a soul. The Princess, who by this time was as much scorched with the flame as he, and did feel as great force of love, knew not well what to answer, but at last yielding to love, she told him, that if he loved her as he made show of, she had no reason but to requite him with the like, but as yet she was young, and at her Parent's disposition, without whose consent she could not make her own choice, but if he could obtain her Father's consent, she was likewise contented to accept of him as her Lord and husband.  
Here will we leave of to speak of these Lovers, and return a little to speak of the Gentleman of the Forest, and his education.   

CHAP. XV. How the young Princes of Denmark, and Saxony, being brought up together, were so like, that they could scarce be known one from the other, & of their mutual love.  
YOU remember how the Duke of Saxony bringing with him the young Prince of Denmark into his Duchy, caused him to be brought up with his own son, calling him by the name of the Gentleman of the Forest, because they knew no other name that he had. The Duchess, partly by the commandment of her husband, & partly for the beauty she beheld in him, made great account of him, using to play and dandle with him, as much as with her own son: by means whereof, in short time he began to recover a fresh and lively colour, and still the elder they grew, the more like the children seemed the one to the other: and as in likeness, so also grew they in love one to the other, delighting always to be together. And being but children, if any one had happened to wrong either of them, the other would always help to be revenged, which bred in the Duke and Duchess, so great content as might be. But coming to the age of 7. years, they were instructed in the Latin and Greek tongues, by a Tutor whom the Duke had appointed them for their bringing up. He being a very wife and discreet Knight, who in former time had spent his youthful days in traveling strange Countries, and seeking after adventures, as was the usage of Knights arrant: he having as before is said, the charge of education of the two Princes committed unto him, instructed them so well, that in short time they profited very much in those languages, especially the Gentleman of the Forest, as being of a more quick and ready wit, but otherwise, their dispositions, & constitutions both of mind and body were so like, that the Duke was forced to set marks whereby to know them: and their love in like manner was so great, that had the one been sick or ill at ease, the other seemed to be a partner in his grief: if the one laughed, the other was joyful, if the one wept, the other must needs mourn to bare him company, such a sympathy of love had Nature infused in them, that it was almost impossible for the one to live without the others company.  
And coming to the age of twelve years, they were instructed by their Tutor, to ride and manage horses, wherein they so much profited, that in short time they waxed very skilful, especially the Gentleman of the Forest, who both in aptness of mind, and agility of body, passed the most exquisite of his time: which caused the Duke so much the more to love and esteem of him, hoping that in time, God would manifest from whence, and of what parentage he was descended, imagining as well by his beauty, as also by his rare forwardness, that he must needs be issued of noble blood. The Duchess likewise grew into so great a liking of him, for his divers rare and singular virtues, that she many times devised with herself, how and by what means she might cause him to love her daughter, whom he esteemed as his Sister, a Lady for beauty excellent, and for the perfections of the mind, able to compare with any then living. She I say, being of this mind, oftentimes resolved to motion the matter unto him, and to discover unto him the manner of his finding, which unto him was unknown, by reason he was always held and accounted as their natural Child: yet thinking that course might be a means, when he should come to age, for to forsake their Court, to seek for his true Parents, she gave over that determination, minding to confer with the Duke her husband thereof. And finding him one night very merry, and pleasantly discoursing, and commending of both the young Princes unto her, she declared unto him her mind, and affirmed, that in her conscience, there could be no better match for her daughter, seeing his virtuous behaviour, which was more to be esteemed then my riches whatsoever. The Duke did not greatly dislike hereof, but yet thought it fit to be left alone, until such time as both of them should attain to a more riper years, for as then he was but 12 years old, and she nine years old. Here again will we leave them, to speak of the Lord Gwaltero, and his company: who after they departed from the Lady's Castle, took their ways towards the confines of Germany.   

CHAP. XVI. How the Lord Gwaltero, traveling through Germany, arrived in the City of Viena in Austria: where he undertook the defence of a distressed Lady, wrongfully accused.  
THe Lord Gwaltero, departing from the Lady's Castle whom he had rescued, at time such as he parted from the Lord of Menew, and Sir Henault, being accompanied with Sir Cadrus, Sir Brews, and his Squire: road on a long time without finding any adventure worth the remembrance, ever enquiring after Sir Henault, and the Lord of Menew, with the rest of their company. At length passing through many Towns of Germany, they arrived in a City of the Dukedom of Austria, called Viena: bordering almost on the confines of Hungaria, being as then the chief City of that province, and as then under the governance of a most stirne and rigorous Prince, named Duke Otho. Who for his tyrannous cruelty, was greatly feared of all his neighbour Potentates, and scarcely beloved of his own natural Subjects: he was a man for valour, and hardiness greatly esteemed, and had not his outrageous cruelty, and beastly sensuality stained his Virtues, he might well have been compared with any Prince, then living within the confines of Christendom: but rage and sensual appetites doth commonly so abound, especially in the hearts of great men, whom God hath given over to themselves, that virtue is altogether choked, and swallowed up in vice, as might well appear in this Duke Otho. Who (so he might have) cared not by what means he came by it: as by the sequel of this Chapter, you shall more plainly understand.  
This Duke had within his territories, a most gracious and virtuous Lady, being sole heir unto her father, who was a man of large possessions, and greatly beloved in his Country, for his virtuous and upright dealings to every man. This noble Gentleman dying, and leaving his daughter about the age of 15 or 16 years, was sought unto of many great and mighty Lords: some for her lands and livings, others for her beauty and virtues, and divers for both. But to make short this discourse, she was at last wooed, and won by a Knight of that Country, called Hostinius: a man who for his virtues and valour in Chivalry, might be thought equal with any Knight, in Austria, and being married unto the young Lady Vitella, they so well loved and liked together, that they scarce one ever gave cause of dislike to the other, which caused them to be commended, and praised through all the Dukedom, and the confines there about: but this joy and content, had not continued fully the space of three years, before that froward Fortune envying their blessed state, caused her fame to be resounded in the ears of the Duke Otho. Whose lustful heart being set on fire with report of her beauty, caused both her and her husband to be sent for to his Court, where being arrived, he at the first most kindly received them, and as the old proverb is, made much of the child for the Nurses' sake: so he entertained Hostinius, using him with all the familiarity that might be for his wife's sake, always seeking opportunity, to make known his lustful love unto Vitilla. And one day finding her standing at a window, looking into the Palace garden: he came unto her, and after a little idle prattle, fetching a deep feigned sigh, he declared unto her his love, vowing and protesting, unless she took pity on him, and yield to his desire, there was no way but death with him, alleging that as her beauty had wounded him, so was it her part to relieve and comfort him again, declaring that as by nature she was fair, so likewise ought she to be kind & merciful.  
The good Lady being half in a maze with this unlooked for process, and scarce knowing how to answer him, considering his nature to be such, that an absolute denial might cause him to grow into choler, both with her and her husband, and thereby to work both their confusions. And likewise to feed him on with feigned speeches of love, might bring her name in question of slander, & though for a time by that means she might put him off, yet in the end, seeing himself deluded, he would revenge himself with the greater cruelty, determined therefore of two evils to choose the least: wherefore she replied in this manner.  
My gracious Lord, I do not think that you will so much dishonour yourself, as by forcing of me to violate the holy rites of marriage, and to wrong my Lord and husband in that sort, as by your speeches you pretend, which if you go about to perform, know for certainty, that God who created all things of nought, will severely punish and revenge so great a crime: and likewise assure yourself my Lord, that whilst I have power and strength to resist, you shall never obtain the same, wherefore I would wish your honour to give over all such wicked imaginations. And herewith she fling away from him in a great chafe, leaving him musing on her short answer, and devising which way he might bring his will to pass, at last resolved with himself, that there was no way to accomplish the same, but only by the death of her husband, hoping that he being dead, she might be brought to any thing. And being thus resolved, he went down into the great Hall, where finding divers of Hostinius servants, he made choice of one, whom he saw continually most near unto him: and taking him a side, declared unto him his intent, and at last, with large promises won him, both to consent, and also to be the Actor of his Lord's tragedy, which in this sort was acted. About some three nights after their agreement, Estonio, for so was that false servant named, having gotten a sleeping powder, so cunningly convayde it into the wine which both his Lord and Lady drank of, with some of the rest of their nearest attendants, that being laid in their beds, none of them awaked till the morning. In the mean time, even about midnight, when both by nature, and effect of their drench, they were soundest asleep, then entered the damnable Traitor, and drove into his Lord's head a nail, which he had no sooner performed, but hiding the hammer wherewith he had committed that cruel homicide, under the bed, he departed to his own bed, where he remained until the next day, that all the rest of his fellows, were risen, and the Chamberlain, as was his custom, came, and softly knocked at his Lord's chamber-door, wherewith the Lady awaked, and turning about, she found her Lord and husband as cold as Ice, which struck such a terror in her heart, that fetching a great shréeke, she likewise fell into a trance. Her damsels which attended her, hearing the shréeke, fearing she was not well, entered the Chamber, where they found their Lord dead, and their Lady in little better case, but at length, having recovered life in her, they called in the Gentlemen his attendants, who being entered, it is unpossible to describe the sorrow and lamentation which was made, where Estonio, in outward show, seemed not to be least sorrowful, so well knew he how to dissemble the matter. At last, the rumour hereof came to the ears of Duke Otho, who presently like a man enraged with grief, he came posting to the Chamber, where at his first entrance, to make show of the love which he bore to the dead body being living, he rend his hair, beating his breast, protesting that he would have given half his dukedom, to have him alive again, although (GOD knows) he himself was the only cause of his death. The good Lady, she in the mean time swooned, and reswounded, and had it not been for the damsels, without all doubt she would have borne her husband company amongst the dead, seeing she was deprived of him amongst the living: so extreme was the grief which she felt, & so great the love which she bore him.  
The Duke in the mean time, for the better obtaining of his purpose, caused the dead body to be imbaulmed, saying he would have him buried with the greatest solemnity that might be, as the man whom he most loved: and because it was impossible to be performed so suddenly, he would have him kept unburied, by the space of a month, against which time he warned all the chief of his Subjects to be there. Hoping in the mean time by one means or other, to work Vitella to his will, wherefore every day he would come to visit her: many times declaring his passions unto her, desiring her to consent and yield thereto. But she good Lady, not minding so soon to forget him whom she loved so dearly, neither yet to make choice of one whom for his wicked life, she could not choose but hate: and also, by his important suit, imagining that to gain her, he might by some kind of poison, have made away her husband, seeing that so suddenly he died: gave him this answer.  
My Lord, I know not the cause of this your importunate suit, neither can I think but that it proceeds from a vild and sinful mind, that professing so great love as you did to my late Lord and husband, you would tempt me his woeful wife so soon to forget him, and commit so vile an offence before God: wherefore know for a certainty, that I neither can, nor will consent to love him, whom my mind persuades me to be the destroyer of my late deceased Lord & husband: for without you had therein been guiltfull, you would not have persisted in this your wicked pursuit after my honesty.  
The Duke knowing himself guilty, in that wherewith she had accused him, & also growing into choler with her rude denial, briefly replied. Lady I perceive that, that which cannot be obtained by fair means, must now at length be won by foul: and seeing that you will not willingly consent unto the thing, which in kind and mild sort I have entreated of you, know for a certainty, that I will win it by force: & whereas you accuse me of murdering of thy unfortunate husband, assure thyself that the guilt thereof, shall lighten on thy own head: which I myself will justify against thee. And thus saying, he departed her chamber, changing all his former love into cruel hate, always pondering in his mind revenge, till such time, as his Nobles being come together, for the solemnizing of the funerals, at which time (coming as if he would have viewed the dead corpses) with some of his nobility, laying his hand on his head, on a sudden he seemed to feel the nail: when fetching a deep sigh, he cried out, that his dear friend Hostinius, had been slain by treachery. The nobles beholding this sudden accident, came and beheld the same, every one immediately judging, that by that wound he received his death. The Duke above all others seemed most to wonder hereat, and at length turning to the company, said, that he hoped to find out the murderers, seeing God so strangely had given knowledge of the deed, which until now was not so much as once dreamt of.  
Wherefore presently causing Vitella, with all her Damsels and attendants to be atached, he examined them every one, and coming to Estonio, whom he before had instructed, examined him in such sort, that he declared how that the Lady Vitilla, had many times made proffer of her love unto him, and that he as often had denied her, because he would not wrong his Lord and Master: how that she had proffered him, both to murder her husband, and afterwards to marry with him, if he thereunto would give his consent: still clearing himself as much as it was possible. This confession being uttered, she poor distressed Lady was forthwith condemned, not being suffered so much as once to speak for herself, Estonio was likewise committed to prison: there for to remain a while to bléere the people's eyes, who could hardly believe that, which he had justified.  
The same day the Duke proceeded in judgement, against Vitella, where he judged her for her fault, to lose all her lands, which he immediately seized on, and that except within six months, she could find a Knight that should maintain her cause, against the Duke in single combat: for he as a dear friend unto her deased husband, would be the man that would prove that she had committed treason, and murder against him, with these conditions, that if he were vanquished, that then she should be delivered free, and all her lands and goods restored unto her, but if it hapnend that he remained Victor, that both she and the weak Knight, which should put himself in her defence, should be burned alive at one stake, which he caused for the same purpose to be set up in the midst of the Market place.  
This sentence pronounced, she good Lady was committed under safe keeping: no body but such whom the Duke appointed, being suffered to come unto her. Which caused many to judge the Duke rather to be guilty than she, especially such who had known the great love between her, and her deceased husband: considering also, that only by this means he had gotten her inhearitance into his hands, which was the chiefest mark he aimed at.  
Now to return again to our purpose, the Lord Gwaltero and his company, coming as before we have said into Viena, happened to take up his lodging in a kinsman's house of the Lady Vitellas, who (by reason of her mishap) was very sad & pensive: and being sitting at supper, was demanded the cause of his sorrow by the Lord Gwaltero, unto whom he declared the former discourse, with the love of the Duke unto Vitella, which he had likewise learned of her, not forgetting in any one point, to declare the common wickedness of the Duke, thereby the easier to persuade his crime likewise in this.  
Gwaltero having attentively listened unto this discourse, marveled greatly at the strange tyranny of the Duke, and being half resolved of the Lady's innocency, determined with himself, to put himself in her defence, wherefore demanding how he might come to speak with the Lady, and also, how near the time appointed for her execution was expired, (for that he was loath to tarry overlong in any place, because of his return unto his Lady & Mistress) his Host replied, that the time of her death was now within six days, and that as yet she was not provided of any Champion, because the Duke was a strong puissant knight, and the condition of the combat such, that every one feared to intermeddle therein: and as touching the means to speak with her, if he would vouchsafe to take the pains, he would (supper being ended) conduct him to the place, where he should from her own mouth, hear what she would say to clear herself. Gwaltero being by nature pitiful, and also by oath of Knighthood bound to help, and secure those that were distressed, consented to go with him to the prison. Where being come, and brought into the presence of Vitella, her Cousin declared the cause of their coming, who after thanks to them given, and lifting up both her eyes and hands towards heaven, protesting her innocency, she declared as much as she knew touching the same, utterly denying any love towards Estinio, or any other, save only her Lord Hostinius. Gwaltero being fully resolved of her innocency, demanded if she would put her case into his hands, who would for her delivery adventure his life, and no doubt but her cause being just, God would prosper their quarrel. She humbly thanking him, answered, that seeing he so courteously offered himself, to him and God only she committed her case: desiring, that according to her innocency he might speed therein, and no otherwise. Then taking their leave, till the day came he departed, leaving her somewhat comforted with hope of her Knights good success, and equity of her cause.   

CHAP. XVII. How Gwaltero combated with the Duke, and slew him, & of the kind proffers that were made him by Vitella & the Nobility, with his departure thence.  
THE day being come, wherein the Lady Vitella was either to bring forth her Champion, or else to commit her body to the fire, the Duke being royally accompanied, entered the Lists, causing her in continent to be sent for, and being come, demanded for her Champion, she answered, that God had provided her one, who at the sound of the trumpet would likewise appear. The Duke hearing that she was provided of a Knight, wondered what he should be, and being pricked in conscience with the guilt of his fault, grew half into despair, and would willingly (if it might have been with his honour) have desisted from the Combat. But God who hardened the heart of Pharaoh, likewise hardened his, thereby the more evidently to make known unto the world, his mercy and loving kindness, towards them that fear him, and his justice on them, which against their own consciences commit sin and iniquity. So that causing first the Lady to be conveyed towards the stake, the trumpets were sounded, but no Knight was seen to approach, which caused him to grow more proud and insolent, thinking then, that no man dared to combat against him. But at the second warning the Lord Gwaltero appeared, mounted on a mighty Courser, with his Lance on his thigh, and his Helmet on: in this sort came he before the judges, and lifting up his beaver, made a little show of reverence, then proceeding on with his speech, he said, that being accepted of Vitella as her Knight, he was come to defend her innocency: and that he marveled, that they being appointed judges of the field, would contrary to all reason, send her towards the place of execution, before the Combat were ended: then desiring that she might again be sent for, he held his peace: which they forthwith caused to be done, placing her whereas she might behold the issue of the battle. In the mean time, the Duke coming unto Gwaltero, demanded what, and of whence he was, who answered, that he was a Knight arrant, of the kingdom of Denmark, and passing through his Country, had heard of his cruelty showed unto the distressed Lady, and being moved with pity, was come to undertake her defence, which he hoped so well to perform, as before night to cause him confess his treason against her. The Duke raging hereat, replied, that doubtless he was some one of her Minions, that being weary of his life, was come for company to be burnt with her, which should be performed with all the torments that might be.  
Now by this time Vitella being brought back and placed, the judges caused both Knights to be sworn, then being warned by a Herald every one to do his best, they set spurs to their horses, and encountered so rudely, that the Duke was thrown out of his saddle, being wounded a little under the right breast, and sore bruised with the fall, Gwaltero was not wounded at all, but yet by reason of the mightiness of the encounter, his horseback broke under him, wherefore he was in like sort driven to alight, and being both on foot, they began a cruel and fierce fight, cleaving their shields, and hewing their armour in pieces, so that every blow caused the blood to trickle down, dying the gréne grass into a scarlet hue. Thus continued the fight a long time very uncertain, no man knowing to whom victory would incline: somewhiles the one triumphing in the others loss, and by and by again, the other rejoicing to see his enemy stoop. Thus continued they the space of three hours, the beholders marveling they could endure so long: at length standing to breath themselves, the Duke spoke unto him, saying, Knight, thou seest that as yet I have the advantage, but the great valour which I have found in thee, makes me to pity thy estate, wherefore I am contented to remit thee the Combat, conditionally that thou wilt remain with me, and also I will give unto thee half of her lands whom thou defendest. Nay, nay, replied Gwaltero, I scorn thy proffers, but if thou wilt restore the Lady and her goods, and confess here before this company, thy treason committed against her, I will grant thee thy life: otherwise look for no mercy at my hands. Then taking their swords in their hands, and covering themselves with the remnants of their shields, they fell again to their former conflict, which continued not long before that Gwaltero delivered a mighty blow on his head, which cloven his Helm in two, and wounded him so sore that he fell to the ground, which Gwaltero seeing, stepped unto him, and would have slain him outright, had not he entreated mercy, promising to confess the whole circumstance of the treason.  
Then the judges coming unto him, he confessed first his love to Vitella, than the murder of Hostinius, and lastly his hate towards her for refusing him, from whence grew this manner of revenge which be intended.  
No sooner had he made his confession, but turning about his face he immediately died. Then the judges caused his body to be carried away, to the intent to have him interred, but they were saved of that labour, for a flock of Wolves coming from out of the woods there adjoining, devoured his accursed carcase, to the great admiration of all the beholders. Then immediately was, Vitella brought down, and greatly honoured, and Estonio being apprehended, was burned in the fire prepared for his Lady. Gwaltero being conducted to his lodging by the Nobility and Vitella, was by them unarmed, & his wounds very carefully looked unto, where he remained the space of eight weeks, during which time he had many great prosfers made him by Vitella, as the enjoying both of herself, & all her inheritance, and by the Nobility he was proffered to be accepted as their sovereign Prince and Duke, if so be he would accept of Vitella to be his wife. But he who had settled his mind in another place, gave than all hearty thanks for their good wills towards him, excusing himself as well as he might, and desiring them to bestow it on some one more worthy than himself, with whom Vitella might be coupled in marriage. Thus excusing himself from receiving that which most men would have coveted, he remained there till his wounds were thoroughly whole, then taking his leave of Vitella and the rest, he departed towards the confines of Belgica, having received of Vitella both horse and Armour, for a remembrance of her, in steed of his own, which in the battle against the Duke was broken and spoiled.   

CHAP. XVIII. How Gwaltero passing through Belgica, arrived in Holland, and coming to the Castle of Coruew, was taken prisoner.  
THus being departed from Viena, he was accompanied by divers of the Nobility, till such time as passing the bounds of Austria, he directed his journey towards Flaunders: at which time the Austrians commending him to God, and desiring him at his return to come that way, they departed again towards Viena, by whom Gwaltero commended to Vitella. In this sort being departed, he road onwards towards Flaunders, disguising himself, because he would not be known in that Country, where he was beloved of many: at last coming to the City of Gaunt, he found it still defended, and kept under the Subjection of the Danes, there likewise he heard of the custom of the Castle of Coruew, in the Duchy of Holland, made by the Duke Griffory. Which was (that whosoever would enter the said Castle) must first alone Just with the five Knights, who kept the foot of the bridge, one after another, and if it were his hap to overcome them all, then was he to Just also with the other five: first with two at once, then against the other three, but and if it were his fortune likewise to vanquish them, than was he to fight with the other 40, by five, & by five, so that it was impossible for one man to vanquish them all. But if it so happened that the strange Knight, were by them overcome, then to lose both his horse and Armour, and so to departed: unless it were such a one whom they knew to be their enemy, and then was he sure to be imprisoned. This custom he raised, because thereby he hoped to imprison as many of the Dansk Knights, as should pass that way in search of their King.  
Gwaltero hearing of this custom, and being desirous to see the strength and situation of the place (so much spoken of, together, imagining that peradventure their King might be there imprisoned, as indeed he was) minded to go see the same, and then if his mind served him, to make trial of the adventure. Thus being resolved, he secretly departed Gaunt, accompanied only with his Squire, leaving behind him both Sir Brews and Cadrus, not knowing what was become of him: in this sort he shaped his course the next way thetherwards, where the tenth day after he arrived, about nine of the clock in the morning: and coming to a shield that hung on a Tree thereby, struck the same so hard, that the whole Castle resounded thereof. Then came forth the first five Knights, one of them demanding what he sought: Gwaltero told him he would very willingly enter the Castle, to behold whether it were so fair within, as it showed beautiful without. Yea replied the Knight, but first you must according to our custom Just with me, and my fellows, whom except you overcome, you are not like to gain entrance: I have heard (replied he) if I be not deceived, your custom, which maketh me something the more desirous to enter, in regard I think that a place so fenced & defended without, cannot choose but have things worth the beholding within: wherefore I am contented to make trial of my fortune, by the strength of my arm. Then couching their Lances, they two ran together so fiercely, that the Knight of the Castle was tumbled headlong over his horse tail, not being able to rise again, by reason of the weight of his Armour, which so sore bruised him in his fall. Then ran another of the Knights, but for haste miss his course: but Gwaltero being more circomspect, in having a great deal of work to do, met him so rightly, that his Lance passed through his body above a yard, causing him to fall dead to the ground: then his Squire brought him the Lance of the dead Knight, with which he met the third so sound, that he sent both horse and man to the ground, wherehence he was not able to arise in haste, by reason that both his feet were so fastened in his stirrups, that he could not clear himself, but lay still under his horse, which striving to get up, had almost squeezed out his masters breath. The fourth whose turn was next to run, knew not well what to do, for willingly he would have desisted from that carrere, but being ashamed to show himself so cowardly: he likewise set spurs to his horse, but in the encounter was sent to bear his fellows company. The fift had somewhat better luck than the rest, for at the first course he was not not dismounted, by reason Gwalteros horse being wearied with his former travel, even as they came to meet, stumbled under him, whereby he missed his course, the other breaking his spear in the midst of his shield, passed on without doing any farther hurt: then taking a new Lance they ran again, where the second time Gwaltero met him so directly, that casting him out of his Saddle backwards, he pitched on the ground with his head forwards, falling so heavy that he broke his neck withal. Then Gwaltero alighting, made choice of the best of their horses, & mounting thereon came to the bridge foot, where he found great store of Lances, & making choice of the best, he delivered a couple unto his Squire, to keep for him if occasion served. Now by this time were two of the other five on horseback, providing themselves for the Just: and all the rest of the Knights of the Castle, were gathered together on the battlements, to behold the issue of the battle: arming themselves likewise, who should be the next five. Thus the two Knights being mounted and furnished at all points, cried unto Gwaltero to defend himself: then placing their Lances in their rests, and setting spurs to their horses, they ran together with all their force, breaking their staves in the midst of his shield, with such might, that they caused his horse to stagger backwards, having much ado to recover himself from falling, but he himself seemed to move no more, than if they had run against some huge Oak, but his stroke was not to so small purpose, for charging his Lance against him on his right side, gave him such a sound blow, that piercing both his shield and armour, the spears head entered clean through his heart, causing him to fall as dead as a dog to the ground. Then turning about (their course being ended) demanded whether he must just with the other Knight again, and they answered yes: then calling to his Squire to bring him another lance, they ran again, where the other Knight was forced to measure his length on the ground, bearing his saddle between his legs.  
Then again changing his horse, he provided himself against the other three, who being all mounted on very good horses, charged him at once, two of them breaking their staves on his shield, and the other missing his course, was sent headlong to the ground for being over hasty.  
Gwaltero being sore shaken with that encounter, could have been contented to have given over running for that time, but yet being compelled to it by reason of the custom, took a fresh Lance in hand, and therewith met one of them so right, that for ever after he made him sure enough for running. The other perceiving his fellows to be slain, and that no force was able to prevail against him, determined at the next course to kill his horse under him, hoping thereby to save himself from the stroke of his Lance: and being thus resolved, ran again, directing the point of his Lance full against Gwalteros horse breast, where entering, he slew the horse, but escaped not himself so well as he hoped for, by reason that the horse coming so fiercely, gave something back, but brought his Master so near him, that he struck him full in the fight of the Helm, and the bar being weak, gave passage for the spear to his brains, so that they fell to the ground both together. And Gwaltero clearing his feet out of the stirrups, lightly recovered himself again, and adressing his shield on his arm, with his sword in his hand, he marched towards the Castle gate, minding (seeing that he had proceeded so far) either to enter, or die in the pursuit. But before he was come fully to the entrance, the five Knights, who were appointed to combat first with him, came forth, and all at once assaulted him: then began there a most fierce and bloody fight, very hard and unequal, by reason they being five, and he but one, and also before overlabored with his former travel, was not able to do as otherwise he would: yet notwithstanding, he laid on such cruel blows, that every one judged himself happiest when as he was farthest from him, the lookers on admiring how it was possible for one alone Knight, to show such prowess, as by defending himself against so many, but at last being overwearied, & wounded in many places, having lost much of his blood, was forced through faintness to fall to the ground, having before his fall slain two of them outright, and very sorely wounded the others, then being no longer able to resistance, he was carried prisoner into the Castle, where he had his wounds bound up & dressed, being pitied of many who had beheld his valour, but being cured of his wounds, and examined of whence he was, he was committed prisoner into the dungeon where the woeful King lay, thereby thinking the more to grieve him. Who no sooner was let inthe dungeon, but they one knew the other, making the greatest lamentation and sorrow that might be, but at length comforting themselves as well as they might, they made relation of their fortunes each to other, hoping that in time God would send them deliverance from all their troubles. Here will we leave them, to tell a little what happened in the Kingdom of Denmark, through the malice of the governors one to another.   

CHAP. XIX. How the Archbishop of Maiance, the County Hermes, & the Lord Harding, disliking the government, went about to make a King amongst them.  
THe Kingdom of Denmark, having been without their King, by the space of 17 years, and under the government of a certain company of States, elected as is before declared: many began to dislike with the government thereof, amongst whom the chief and principal, were the Archbishop of Maiance, a man very well learned, but given altogether unto novelties and change, the County Hermes, and the Lord Harding, all three great men, and such as were in a manner, the only Authors of that government: and the first year were themselves chief governors in that established estate, as appeareth in the fourth Chapter of this present Book.  
Yet notwithstanding, (all this and their solemn vows, ratified under their hands and seals, for the continuance, and performance of that kind of state, and government) they were in a manner, the first that repined against it, seeking by all the means they could, to overthrow and extinguish the same, either for the envy they bore towards those who were Governors, or for that themselves had never since the first year happened to be of the twelve, or else (and that which I think to be most likeliest) being stirred up by the devil, they desired greater superiority, than either became them, or by any ways they were worthy of, yet doubting to agree within themselves, being but three, having the governance in their own hands, determined therefore to elect and choose a King: who being by them so raised, could not choose likewise but to be ruled by them, and that under the colour of the King, they might revenge themselves of their enemies: and likewise prefer their friends to honour and dignity. And having thus resolved between themselves, they solicited the Scottish King to accept of the Diadem, promising him by their letters, that if he would but send over ten thousand Soldiers, under the conduct of some expert Leader or Captain, that then they would so aid him, that in less than a year, he should have all Denmark in his subjection: conditionally, that they three might continually have and enjoy to themselves, the chief offices belonging to that Kingdom.  
The Scottish King (hearkening unto this jolly proffer) at the first made small account thereof: but afterwards weighing with himself the great benefits and profits, which thereby might rise, not only to him: but to all his Kingdom and Subjects, if he might so easily obtain the same, as in their letters they made show of: and being again by them solicited anew, writing unto him in their letters, that unless he accepted thereof, they would give it unto the King of England, or some other Prince, whom they knew would more thankfully accept of their kind offer. The County Hermes in a private letter beside, wrote how that if his Majesty would (having conquered the Kingdom) make him Viceroy or Deputy thereof, he would send over his eldest son to remain as pledge, until such time as he had performed, whatsoever he made promise of: and that then he would render him such tribute, as by his Majesty should be thought fit. Now when he had himself perused these letters, (and cast all doubts he could) he made them known to his privy Counsel, who after long deliberation, at length gave him this answer, that they were also of the mind, his Majesty should accept their proffer of the Kingdom a gift well worth the acceptance, and farther, to grant them their own desires, in that which they should demand, till such time as being Master of the Country, he might at his pleasure, then altar any thing that he would. In the mean time, to receive pledges of their meaning, lest otherwise he might repent too late. Thus having determined, the King sent over secretly unto them, to certify them of his intent, assuring each of them the greatest dignities and honour, that the Kingdom would yield: entreating them likewise, to send over their Hostages, upon whose arrival his forces should be ready to be shipped, under the conduct of his cozen, the Lord Douglasse, a man for his experience and valour excellent.  
These letters being thus secretly conveyed, were most welcome news unto those arch Traitors to their Country, who forthwith sent for Hostages the County Hermes his eldest son, a gallant young youth, and one whom in time might have proved an honourable man. The Lord Harding had but one only daughter, and her he sent under colour to be brought up with the Scottish Princess, & for the Arch Traitor (Archbishop I would say) was sent an Nephew of his, an excellent good Scholar, & a notable Politician. These being sent into Scotland, they appointed the King's forces to be ready by the tenth of May then next ensuing: and they in the mean time made all the provision that might be, where we will likewise leave them.   

CHAP. XX. Of a strange adventure happening in the Court of Saxony, and how the Gentleman of the Forest, and jago were Knighted, and how the adventure was ended.  
THere was in the Kingdom of Spain, a noble man called signor Adresto, famous for his virtues and Chivalry: and having passed over a great part of the world, in seeking and following of strange adventures, always having fortunate success in all his enterprises, especially in his love, which he bore towards a noble Lady of his own Country, called Leonarda, daughter and sole heir unto the Duke of Toledo: one who for beauty and comeliness of body, was the only paragon of all Spain, sought unto by many, but only enjoyed by Adresto, between whom there grew so great love, that whosoever had seen or known the same, would have sworn, that then love there had been no greater deity. Which when the Duke her father understood, being loath to match her unto one of so mean estate, although for his virtues he might compare with any, yet was his livings very small: therefore he often warned her to avoid his company, and at length grew in great displeasure with her, threatening to disinherit her, if she did not obey unto his will herein. Which the young Lady doubting, at their next meeting, made him privy withal, assuring him that for his love she could be contented to forsake all. But yet seeing that in time her father's good will might be obtained, she would entreat him for a while to absence himself: assuring him, that for her part, she would always continue faithful and constant unto him, and never accept of any other husband, though thereby she were disinherited. Adresto hearing her kind and loving speeches, answered, that seeing it was her pleasure, he was contented, although to be out of her presence would be a hell unto him: and whereas she had made him so free a grant of her love, he protested before the heavens likewise never to forsake her, and that before he would consent to love any other than herself, he would be torn to pieces with wild horses: then delivering each other asigne of their passed faiths, he departed. And within short time after left the Kingdom, traveling many strange and unknown Regions, till at last coming into the Kings of Ireland, he happened to fall in likingly with a beautiful Damsel of that Country, but of mean parentage: her father being but a Merchant of that Country. On whom he so doted, that he had clean forgotten, and forsaken the chaste and virtuous Lady Lenarda: although the good Lady having intelligence hereof, by a friend of hers, a skilful Magician, oft times sent unto him, to cause him to call to mind his former love. At length the Duke her father dying, and leaving her sole Mistress and Duchess of his Dukedom, she having with great pomp & solemnity celebrated his funerals, one day sent for her friend the Magician to come unto hor, of whom she demanded if there were no means, to recall her lover Adresto again, without whom she was like to spend her life time in care and heaviness. Adriano, (for so the Magician was called) made her answer, that he could not directly answer her demand: because that she (whom he so loved) wore always on her finger a Ring, which was the only stay of his love, which except they could get from her, it was impossible, ever to remove his affection. Also this Ring had one other virtue, which was that whosoever did wear it, should not lose so much as a drop of blood in any battle whatsoever: wherefore when he combated with any one, (as oft times he did for her love,) then had he the Ring. And unless there could be found a Knight, that might by force conquer him in single battle, and take away the Ring from him, it was impossible to get the same by any deceit whatsoever. Lenarda hearing this, was as one half besides herself, but being comforted by Adriano, (who assured her he would try the uttermost of his skill to find out the Knight, as he had spoken of.) Then taking his leave of her, he returned home: where by his art he framed a most rich and fair sword, excellent curious to the eye, and to cut, the best that was then in the whole world: this sword he enchanted in such sort, that no man but he to whom the conquest of Adresto appertained, might draw the same: then bringing it to Lenarda, willed her to send one of her Squires therewith, to seek out the Knight who should by his valour recover her love: then delivering it to one of her Squires, whom she esteemed for his truth and secricie, with this command, that whosoever should offer to draw forth the sword, should first make promise of a boon, which was to go over into Ireland, and to combat with Adresto, accusing him for falcifying of his faith to Lenarda.  
Thus the Squire (having the sword) traveled to all the Prince's Courts in Spain, and Countries thereabouts: then into France, Italy, and Germany, never finding any one that could once move it in the Scabbard: although many stout & hardy Knights made trial thereof, to this great grief, fearing his travel should never have end, nor his Lady ease of her sorrow. In this manner having traveled through most part of Germany: he arrived at the Court of Saxony, desiring the Duke that his Knights might make trial, if it were any their fortunes to accomplish that, for which he had travailed she greatest part of Christendom. Then showing his sword, he declared, that bearing the same a whole year, he could never find any one that might draw the same. The Duke wondering hereat, immediately after Dinner, caused all his Knights to make trial thereof, himself being the first, but all to no end applied they their forces. Which when the young Prince jago, and the Gentleman of the Forest beheld, they presently fell on their knees before the Duke, desiring his grace to grant them the order of knighthood, hoping that for one of them this Adventure was reserved.  
The Duke being unwilling at the first, by reason of their young age, that being knighted, they would hazard themselves in seeking after strange adventures, advised them to stay a year or two more, before they took so waitie a charge on them: affirming that it was unlawful to dub any one, before the age of twenty, at which time they would be strong, and able to endure the weight of their Armour and travel, and not before. All which could not cause them to desist from their suit, but still more earnestly they craved the same, alleging many sundry examples of those who at younger years had enured themselves to as great labours, as Reynaldo at the age of fifteen years stealing from his father's court, went into Palestina to the Christian Army, where under great Godfrey of Bullen, he obtained to be the chief scourge to the Saracens, and without whom, it had been impossible to have won the holy City of jerusalem. This and many other such like arguments they alleged, whereby at length they obtained the Duke to consent unto them: willing them for that night, according to the ancient custom, to watch in the Chapel. Then turning to the Squire, he entreated him to tarry till the next day, seeing the two young Gentlemen were so desirous. The Squire, to satisfy the Duke, willingly consented, although he had no great hope of their success.  
The two Princes careful of their charge, having their Armour and other necessaries provided, kept their devout watch all night, sometimes accompanied by the young Princess, and divers other Ladies, they passed away the time till the morning: at what time the Duke coming unto them, accompanied with many Lords & Knights, with his own hands buckled on their spurs, and then drawing forth their swords, gave them the gentle Accolado. Then raising them up, desired GOD to make them both good and valiant Knights. Then hearing divine service, they returned into the great Hall, to make trial of the enchanted Sword, where first the Prince jago as the elder, made trial, but by no means was able to draw it, then taking it to the Gentleman of the Forest, he said, Brother God give you better luck than I, or else this Squire is like to endure more labour. True replied he, & I doubt it greatly, seeing that you have missed: then putting his hands on the Hilts, he drew it forth as easily, as if it had been an ordinary sword, to the great wonder of the Duke, and all the beholders. Then the Squire falling on his knees, told him, that the boon which he required, was to go into Ireland with him, where he should combat with a Knight, being the falsest Lover that might be: and therewith declared the whole discourse of his Lady and Adresto, as is before recited. Here we will leave the Gentleman of the Forest, preparing himself to go with the Squire into Ireland, to combat Adresto, concluding the first part of our History.   
FINIS.   

The second part of the famous History of the two Princes, Euordanus Prince of Denmark, and jago Prince of Saxony, with their several adventures and fortunes in love.  

CHAP. I. How Euordanus called the Gentleman of the Forest, having received order of Knighthood, departed towards Ireland with the Squire of Lenarda, Duchess of Toledo.  
YOu may remember, how that in the former part of this history, the young Princes Euordanus and jago, having received the order of Knighthood, and the adventure of the enchanted sword, being finished by Euordanus, he was thereupon to travel into Ireland, to combat with Adresto: and now having stayed by the Duke and Duchess entreaty, some three or four days, in which time there was a small Bark prepared, for his better transporting himself, and such necessaries as in his journey should be needful unto him: and now the wind serving fitly for their intended course, he was hastened on by the Squire to departed, who declared unto him the great grief and heaviness, which in this mean time his noble and excellent Lady the Duchess Lenarda endured, than which he was sure there could be no greater torment possible.  
And now all things being fitted in readiness for their departure, he came before the Duke to take his leave, where falling down on his knees, proffering to kiss his grace's hands, the Duke lift him up from the ground, embracing him in his arms, and with tears trickling down his manly cheeks commended him to God, desiring him that he would return again unto his Court his adventure being finished, with as much speed as might be, whereas he should be as heartily welcome, as his own natural son the prince jago. These & many other such like speeches the Duke then used unto him, which drove the Knight into a great admiration, especially of the words that he should be as welcome unto him, as the Prince Iago. By which and the strange name he was called by, it was to be doubted whether he were the Duke's son or not: which before this time he had never heard, nor so much as once dreamt of, so secret had his finding been consealed from him. And being about to demand the same of the Duke, he was put from his purpose by a messenger, which was sent unto him by the Duchess, to will him to come unto her in her chamber: where hearing of his taking leave of the Duke, she attended his coming, being accompanied with her daughter the Princess Egisena, who was now attained to the age of 15 years, and by continual frequenting the company of the Gentleman of the Forest, somewhat touched with love towards him, and understanding by her mother (who desired nothing more than to see them joined together in marriage) that they were no kin, had set down her rest, if he thereto consented, to accept of no other husband.  
Thus leaving the Duke, not a little grieved for his departure, he came unto the Duchess her chamber, where as he found both the mother and daughter, so overcharged with sorrow for his departure: that of a long time they were not able to utter a word. But at length the Duchess, recovering the former use of her tongue, with a deep sigh proceeding from her heart, which manifestly showed the inward grief, she sustained for his departure, and with her eyes steadfastly fixed on him, spoke as followeth.  
Gentleman of the Forest, for son I may no longer call you: the great love which I have always borne unto you, I am sure you know to be no less than that, either to your supposed brother the Prince jago, or your sister Egisena, although as by my former speeches, you may perceive you were not my own natural child, but in your infancy found by my Lord the Duke in a Forest, in the Kingdom of Denmark, of which place you have ever since been called the Gentleman of the Forest: no man knowing of what parentage you are descended, nor what other name then this, which the Duke gave you to call you by. These things I have now thought good to declare unto you before your departure, that being absent, you may the better if occasion so happen, to find out your true and natural parents, whom I doubt not but to be such as yourself shall have no cause to grieve at, nor we cause to be sorrowful for the education bestowed upon you, your virtues already manifesting the same.  
Farther would she have proceeded, but the tears trickling down her cheeks, stopped the passage of her farther speeches: when the young Knight having attentively listened unto her former words, to the which those of the Duke seemed to concur?  
Replied, most worthy Princess, these your speeches hath struck such an amazedness into my understanding, that I know not well what to speak or think, but my untowardliness did always foreshow, that I was not descended of so royal an offspring, as my Lord the Duke: yet notwithstanding, my mind foretelleth me, I am not so basely descended, but that I may hope for to challenged myself to be a Gentleman: and make known this high order, which my Lord the Duke hath bestowed upon me of Knighthood, not to surpass my estate: wherefore I vow and protest before God, here in your Grace's presence, not to rest nor enjoy quiet abode in any place, until such time as I have found out those from whom I am descended. In the mean time, I humbly entreat you to esteem of me, though unworthily as your faithful and devoted servant: farther desiring that Princess Egisena, to honour me with the title of being her Knight, under whose protection I cannot look for aught other then good success.  
The Duchess being as joyful of this his conclusion, as sorrowful for his vowed determination, stood still a while making no answer at all. But at last being resolved in her mind, that now or never it was time to follow her devised drift: fixed her eyes steadfastly on him, & turning her speeches to her daughter, said. Egisena, I perceive now that which I always feared is come to pass, concerning the love between you and this our new Knight, which since I perceive to be true, and that to strive again destiny is bootless, I both will and command you, on pain of incurring my displeasure, and by the natural love you ought to bear me, I conjure you, not to conceal, but to make known unto me, whether there be any such love-liking between you, as outward shows seem to make manifest: which if there be, I will seek some means to work both your contents, which will be a cause to draw this Gentleman, the sooner again unto this our Court.  
The Princess that had already been instructed in her mother's drift, and being likewise thereunto of herself very willing, dying her cheeks with her maidenly blush, made her this answer. Most gracious Princess and loving mother, I do not well know whereunto these your speeches may intend, considering that these vain toys of love, as yet I was never acquainted with, but yet thus much I must needs confess, that the liking which I have always had to this Gentleman of the Forest, proceeded as I have still thought, from the natural love of a sister towards her brother: and since the knowing of the contrary, hath continued, or I may say, bred a greater liking then to any other whatsoever: but not in such sort, as by making choice of him, either to displease you or my father.  
The Knight being as joyful as might be, to hear them in these terms: for howsoever darkly she spoke, yet love had so sharpened his wits, that he guessed very near their meaning, and coming to the Princess kissed her hands for those unseen kindnesses, desiring her in all humility, to accept him as her humble servant, and faithful Knight: in token whereof she would bestow some thing on him, which in all his adventures might put him in mind of her excellency, although her kind courtesies were already, so settled in his heart, as it was for ever impossible to be worn out.  
Farther would he have proceeded, but that the Squire earnest of his mistresses charge, sent up to hasten him away, which both the Duchess, and her daughter unwilling to yield unto, at last consented.  
Egisena for a favour delivered him a fair Diamond, which always she worn on her finger. Thus taking his leave of them, being accompanied with the Prince jago, and divers other noble men, he was conveyed unto the Seaside, where they found his ship ready provided, & having wind at will, were ready to set sail. There he took his leave of the Prince, and others his friends, embracing one another with such shows of sorrow, that caused the whole company and beholders, to due their cheeks with tears. The Prince jago many times entreating to accompany him in his voyage, regarding more his company then his father's displeasure. But he having determined a longer voyage in his mind: then suddenly to return, would by no means consent unto the Prince's request. Thus at length, as each thing hath his time and end, seeing no entreaty would serve, he committed him to the tuition of the almighty God, desiring his prosperous and speedy return.   

CHAP. II. How the Gentleman of the Forest, sailing towards Ireland, landed in North-wales, where he fought with a huge Monster, and what was the success thereof.  
THE Gentleman of the Forest, being aboard, and having taken his leave of the Prince, and the rest of his friends, they set sail, having the wind fair, and the Seas calm, even as if Neptune had roused up himself to welcome some dear friend, the Dolphins, Porpises, and other strange fishes, playing above the waters round about the Ship, as being sent of purpose to show pleasure to the passengers: whereat our new Knight took no small content. Thus passing away the time, somewhiles in beholding the fishes, and other sea sights, and in pleasant and merry talk with the Pilot, and Master of the Ship, concerning the customs and manners of the Seas, they sailed by the space of eight days, with a prosperous and large wind, when towards the evening, the Master looking abroad, to see whether he could discern any land, happened to see in the West north west, a small cloud, rising in manner of a man's hand, which the more he beheld, the blacker still it seemed, which caused him to doubt some ensuing storm: therefore willing his company to take in their top sails, and also to unlace their drablets and bannets, determining to try with their Cosses only. Scarce had they obeyed half his commandment, when the Sky being before very clear, began to overcast, and the winds to blow in such sort, that in less space than an hour, the Seas were grown so outrageous, that it seemed every billow strove one with the other, which should first board their distressed burden: the boatswain and his fellows, endeavouring with all their might, to take in that little sail which they bore, and although it were but their cosses, yet could they not do it without great danger & pain. Others found themselves busied in pomping and casting forth the water, each man employing his best help for their lives aid. And the Prince, although unskilful, yet labouring as hard as any of the rest, sometimes taking his turn at the pump, sometimes to lift overboard such things, as might any ways be a hindrance, to the more light working of their ship on the Seas: so that his labour was profitable two ways, the one of itself, wherein he did as much good as any man, the other his example, which caused every one to be the more willing to perform their labour. Thus continued the storm for the space of two days, to the great discomfort of all the company, but especially of the Knight, who being overtravailed with labour, and his body not being to-fore used unto the Sea, repaired into his Cabin, and casting himself on his bed, hoping to take some easement to his restless body: but sleep, the comforter of those that are weary, yielded him small relief, for no sooner were his eyes closed, but that the memory of the Princess Egisenas' beauty represented itself unto him: then would he consider with himself the likelihood of his obtaining her, as the great favour which both the Duke her father always showed unto him, and the kind speeches at their last farewell, as also the vowed love betwixt himself, & the Prince her Brother, which seemed to promise unto him an assured obtaining. But on the contrary side, he would object his own unworthiness, as being but peradventure of base or mean Parentage, than the great & mighty Princes which were desirous of her love: and last and not least, that his absence, (as oft times it doth) in her likewise might breed forgetfulness.  
Thus revolving many things in his mind, he determined, if God so pleased, after his enterprise against Adresto ended, he would travel into Denmark, hoping there to learn somewhat concerning his estate, or else peradventure to travel along with the Squire & Adresto into Spain, where he doubted not but that Adriano should resolve him of that doubt. In this manner passed he away most part of the night, till towards the morning, Morpheus pitying his restless estate, closed his eyes, causing him to enjoy a short slumber. But long he had not slept, before that he was awaked by a joyful cry, made by the whole company, upon the sight of Land: but the wind being come to the Northward, they were forced to put in for a harbour, called at this day Milford-haven, where coming ashore, they determined to rest themselves, and provide such necessaries as they wanted, against the wind should serve for Ireland, which from thence was but a short cut.  
The next day, the Gentleman of the Forest being (as is beforesaid) weary of the Sea, determined to go recreate himself ashore, wherefore taking his horse and armour, accompanied only with his Squire, he road forth to view the Country, which he found to be indifferent fruitful and pleasant, but could see very few or no Inhabitants, which caused him not a little to marvel: thus road he on the space of two leagues, beholding many goodly streams, & pleasant shadows, the delight whereof, caused the way to seem very short. At length, coming to a small rivers side, he alighted to rest himself, and delivering his horse to his Squire, he laid himself down at the feet of a stately Béech tree, whose thick branches were a shelter unto him from the piercing heat of Phoebus' golden rays, where he was quickly lulled asleep, with the chirping tunes of pleasant birds, and bubbling noise of the soft-slyding stream. Long had he not rested in this pleasant place, before such time as he was wakened by a pitiful outcry, and starting up half amazed, he beheld a most huge and mighty Monster, in form somewhat bigger than a Camel, his head and face not much unlike a man, his mouth very large, as about a yard in wideness, his teeth upwards of a foot long, his breast and fore-feet, much like to a Lion, his back large and long, and for his hinder parts they were like unto a Bear: all his body being thick set with bristles, so hard as it was unpossible for any sword to pierce his skin. Which at the first sight caused him to stand some what amazed, till perceiving the Monster almost to have overtaken his Squire, whom he pursued to have devoured, he clapped on his Helm, and taking his Lance in his hand, he ran to secure him, and coming near unto him, smote the Monster such a blow, as well might have overthrown a good Knight, but to him it did no harm at all, which caused him greatly to doubt the issue of their conflict: the beast feeling himself stricken behind, left the pursuit of the squire, and turned about to the Knight, thinking to have devoured him, and at the first laid hold on his shield with his two forefeet, and with his mouth seized on his Helm, pressing the same with his long teeth, to the no small doubt and astonishment of the Knight, but as good hap was, he might then thank haste, for in clasping on his Helm he had forgotten to fasten it, which was an occasion, that at the first pull it came from his head, which otherwise would have pierced his brains. This happened not a little to the advantage of the Knight, who although his head were unarmed, yet that want of Armour so armed the Monster's teeth, that for his life he could not clear himself thereof. Which gave the Knight occasion to make a full thrust at his breast, where the skin being not so hard as in the other parts of his body, gave entrance to his trusty blade, which pierced so deep, that it caused great abundance of blood to follow after it: which the beast perceiving, gave a loud cry, and withal let go his shield, and took hold on his left shoulder, giving him so kind a salutation with his sharp nails, that he brought away the armour and flesh, hard to the bone, receiving in the mean time a sound blow on the deformed head, which caused him to reel backwards. But his skin was so hard, that it pierced no more than if he had stricken upon an anvil of steel. Thus continued they a great while, the Monster still assailing, and he avoiding, watching his best advantage to make thrusts, seeing blows did nothing at all avail. At length, being weary, and something fainting by reason of his hurt, he gave back a little to refresh himself, which the Monster perceiving, lay down, and with his claws sought means to clear himself of the Helm which hung fast in his teeth, but before he was able to free himself thereof, the Knight who slacked not to take the least advantage that might be, gave him so sore a hurt in the belly, that it caused both his blood & guts to issue out together, which the Monster feeling, and striving to recover himself on his feet, strained so much, that he caused his hellish soul to departed from his damned body.  
The Knight seeing himself Victor, kneeled down immediately on the ground, rendering praise and thanks to the almighty GOD, for his prosperous and happy success in this his first enterprise. Then his Squire coming unto him, he made haste to bind up his wounds, and to departed towards his Ship, where he might with more ease & less danger, be cured of his hurts, which grieved him not a little, especially that in his left shoulder. But before such time as they were fully ready to departed, there came unto them an old man, clothed like a Hermit, his head and beard being as white as milk, bearing in one hand a small viol of water, and in the other a box of ointment, and when he came unto them, he saluted them very curtiously, telling the Knight, that of long time he had expected his coming into that distressed place.  
The Knight as courteously regréeted him, & afterwards demanded, if he knew any place where he might be cured of some small wounds which he had received, so which the Hermit replied, that within less than half a league he had a small Cell, whether if it pleased him to go, he would not doubt but within few days to cure him: in the mean time, he would a little wash and anoint the same, with such water and ointment, as he had for the same purpose brought with him, the Knight glad hereof, gave him hearty thanks, and having had his wounds dressed, departed with him towards his Cell, where his wounds were cured, as hereafter you shall hear, with the occasion of the Monsters being in that place. In the mean time, we will roturne to speak somewhat of the Lord of Menew and Sir Henault, whom the former part of of this history, left remaining in the Court of France, in the company of the English Prince, and divers other Noblemen.   

CHAP. III. How Sir Henault, and the Lord of Menew, departed from the Court of France, and arrived in Holland, where they heard of the adventure of Coruew: and how they were both taken prisoners.  
AFter Prince Edward had overcome the Duke of Orleans, and continued the defence of the Princess Emelias' beauty, to his great honour and renown, he remained a while in the French Court greatly feasted: where for a time he stayed with him the two noble Danes, the Lord of Menew, and Sir Henault, entertaining them with great familiarity and kindness. But being at length weary of idleness, and desirous to follow after their quest: they departed towards Belgica, being earnestly entreated by the English Prince to have accompanied him into England. Thus departed they onwards on their journey, still making diligent inquiry after their King, of whom, nor of Sir Gwaltero they could learn any certainty. In this manner road they together, through most part of France, leaving behind them in all places, a famous memorial of their virtuous acts: which caused their names to be spread far and near. But at length, passing the spacious Kingdom of France, they arrived in the unfortunate Dukedom of Holland: infortunate in regard of the many wild customs erected, by the tyranny of their ungodly Duke: as is in the first part of this History declared.  
Scarce were they entered one whole days journey within this province, before that Fame, the Herald of reports, had brought unto their ears, the custom of the Castle of Coruew, with the many famous explots there exercised, with the innumerable number of Knights, which had there lost themselves: among whom there was one Knight for his exceeding valour, far famoused above the rest, who by the description of body and Arms which he bore, they presently imagined to be the Lord Gwaltero.  
Wherefore determining either to recover him, or lose themselves, they set on thetherwards, where the next morning they arrived so me two hours before that Phoebus' untired steeds, with their never resting Chariot, had attained the mid heavens: and coming within the view of the Castle, the strength thereof struck a sudden amazedness in them: but considering the cause of their coming, was to deliver him whom they entirely loved, and also that to a valiant heart, nothing should seem difficult, and withal, the harder the enterprise, the more is the honour obtained by the victor: they determined rather to die, then to return not making trial of the adventure being sonéere, which would be for ever a great dishonour unto them. The Lord of Menew desiring to make the first trial, whereunto Sir Henault willingly consented, hoping that if he were overcome, his honour in obtaining the victory would be the greater.  
Thus being agreed, tthe Lord of Menew went presently unto the shield, giving it such a blow that he cloven it in two in the midst, which being seen by those that guarded the bridge, immediately one of them arming himself, came forth mounted on a mighty steed, of a brown bay colour, with a little white star in the forehead, and one white foot: and coming with an easy trot unto the Lord of Menew, demanded of him wherefore he sought, and what was the occasion of his so outrageous striking of the shield. The Lord of Menew answered, that his coming thither was to seek for a Knight, which bore in his shield two Lions rampant sable, in a field argent, who as he understood, had been by treason subdued and imprisoned within that Castle, and for the striking of the shield, he listed not to give him any other reason, then that he hoped with the fame Lance, to pierce both his shield and his heart. The other replied, that such a Knight indeed was there imprisoned, whose haughty heart, caused him attempt that which he could not accomplish: in pursuing whereof, by force and not by treason he was vanquished, and according to the custom of their Castle, made forfeiture of his life, but that for his valour, they were contented he should a while live to help to strengthen their guard, if he could thereto be won. Then turning about his horse, they both prepared to fetch their carrere: and placing their staves in their rests, they met together so rudely, that the Knight of the bridge was sent to measure his length on the ground, being mortally wounded with a splinter of the Lance in the visage, the Lord of Menew likewise, being so sore shaken with the encounter, as he had much to do to keep his Saddle: then presently came forth other two Knights, well armed, and mounted, crying to him to prepare himself to encounter them: which he presently did, and meeting together, struck one of them so strong a blow, that missing toward it with his shield, his Lance passed clean through his body: but the other Knight, breaking his Lance in the midst of his shield, caused him to tumble over his horse tail, but it was not long before such time as he had recovered his feet, his Squire being ready with the horse of the first Knight, on which he presently mounted, and drawing forth his sword, was presently ready to assault the other, who seeing him dismounted, made no great haste, but with vain glorious bravery, passed on his carrere, when turning about and perceiving him to be remounted, drew forth his sword, saying, Sir Knight, well may you thank your Squire for so quick puruaying of a new horse for you, but I fear me he shall but little steed you against the force of my arm, which hath once already sent you to measure your loutish length upon the ground.  
The Lord of Menew, being madded with rage, stayed not to answer him with words, but with his sword lent him so friendly a blow, that caused him to bend his head even to his breast: but quickly recovering himself again, he struck the other such ablow, that had he not warded the same with his shield, he had gone near to have cleft his head in two: thus continued they a while, sometimes the one, sometimes the other seeming to have the better, Fortune so equally guiding the balance, that it was hard to judge, whether side should obtain victory. At last, the Lord of Menew, imagining with himself that to be long in conquering, would be a cause that himself in the end should be overcome, determined either to obtain a speedy conquest, or a speedy death: wherefore, uniting all his forces together, and raising himself in his stirrups, he gave his enemy such a recombendibus on the head, that the steel being of too weak a force to resist the weight thereof, gave free passage to the sword, which found a ready way to his brains, causing him to fall as dead as a herring unto the ground.  
But before he could have any space to rest himself, or almost to breath, came forth other two, charging him both at once, and he as gallantly answered their charge, receiving both their staves upon his shield, which caused his horse a little to stagger backwards, but as they passed by, their Lances being broken, he gave one of them so sound a stroke on the side of the head, before he looked for any such matter, that he left him but half a face to court his Mistress withal: then providing to encounter the other, betwixt whom there passed a fierce and bloody conflict, but in the end the victory remained unto the Lord of Menew, who although he were grievously wounded, yet his heart being not a whit feared or any way dismayed, went forwards unto the bridge, whether Sir Henault likewise came, persuading him to give over the enterprise to him, considering he was so sore hurt, but he that never knew what fear was, could not be so lightly persuaded, wherefore desiring Sir Henault, if he were overcome to do his best, he made choice of such parts of arms as he wanted, and taking a strong Lance, he went forwards towards the end of the bridge, where he was encountered by two of the five Knights that kept the same, betwixt whom there was a long and dangerous conflict, but in the end, through faintness and great loss of blood, the Lord of Menew striking a full blow at one of them, sent himself after to the ground, his legs being no longer able to sustain the weight of his body, yielding thereby the victory to them, who were not able long to enjoy the same: for the one of them even as he fell, being in as weak estate, struck likewise at him, and missing his blow, sent the whole burden of his body to embrace him in death, whom in life he had pursued so deadly. The other likewise being in little better state, seeing his companion fall, thought to help him, and stooping down to lift him up, fell himself likewise into a trance.  
Sir Henault fearing lest his companion had been slain, went presently to have taken up his body, but was hindered by the other three Knights: who all at once assaulted him, and being afoot in like sort as he was, there began a bloody, though unequal combat, each party seeking to overcome. Thus fought they a long time, giving and receiving many wounds: Sir Henault giving such blows, as well made show he meant to sell his liberty or life at a dear rate: so long they fought, that at length two of them fell dead at his feet, the other seeing his fellows slain, thought it more for his lives safety to trust to his legs then his hands, so that turning his back he ran towards the Castle, from whence presently issued, five other Knights armed, putting themselves between Sir Henault, and the runaway.  
Here again began a more fierce conflict than the former, by reason they were five hardy approved Knights, and his former battle having served, but as whetting of his courage, caused him to lay on such blows, that in short time he had sent two of their souls to seek passage at Charon's ferry: himself and the other three being greatly wearied, stood still a while to rest themselves: when Sir Henault considering with himself the cause of his fight, as to release his noble friend Gwaltero, and also to be revenged for the death of the Lord of Menew, he was so  with ire, that running upon them as a man enraged, he struck one of them such a blow, as he severed his head from his shoulders, then laying on at the other two such mighty blows, that he forced them in the end to yield up their souls, as a sacrifice to his sword: which being ended, he himself being-over traveled, and having lost great abundance of blood, sat himself down on a stone, where he had not long sitten before he fell into aswound, which being seen by the Knights of the Castle, they came forth and took both him, and the body of the Lord of Menew, with the rest of whom there was any hope of recovery, and carried them into the Castle, where in respect of their valour, they caused to be carefully attended, and their wounds to be cured: persuading them in the mean time to be partners with them, in guarding this their lewd custom. Which when they being well, refused, were immediately put down into the prison, where the King and Gwaltero remained.   

CHAP. FOUR how the Hermit declared unto the Knight, the discourse of the Monster, & afterwards being cured of his wounds, was brought unto an old Chapel, where he gained an excellent Armour, being sometimes the Armour of the famous Prince Lionel.  
THE Gentleman of the Forest, being brought by the Hermit and his Squire unto the Hermitage, he was forthwith disarmed, and laid on a silly couch, on which the old Hermit used to lie, and being carefully looked unto, and attended on by the Hermit, within 3. days he was indifferently well recovered, and sitting up in his bed, he desired the old man to declare unto him, as he before had promised, the discourse of the Monster which he had killed.  
The old man glad to see him so well recovered, and also desirous to pleasure him in any thing he could, began thus. Most worthy Knight, not long since there was remaining in this Country, a most vile and wicked Governor, named Querenus, a man for the detestable wickedness which he lived in, hated both of God and man, for what virgin or beautiful wife was there in this Country, which if he liked, but he would force to accomplish his lustful appetite: yea to such a height of evil was he grown, that he neither feared God nor man, knowing no heaven but his worldly pleasures, nor fearing no other hell but the misery of this life, the which he continued to the mortal grief of all his subjects: who in the end, being wearied and ouerburthened in this intolerable misery, chose rather to end their lives speedily, then continually to be tormented by this blood-thirsty Tyrant. Wherefore gathering themselves together, they made head against the Tyrant, and after a long war, they prevailed so against him, that he was forced secretly to abandon his Country, and being only accompanied with two men, taking a small boat, which he found ready provided, fled away to the Sea, where having been some fix days, at last was put a shore in an Island, not far distant hence, where in times past, the excellent and famous Magician Bardus sometimes dwelled, where being landed, and calling to mind the estate which he now was brought into, determined there to take up his habitation, and to prevent both himself and his company, from any hope or desire to escape, immediately sunk the boat wherein they had escaped, and afterward, being diligently searching in a certain Cave, happened to find divers books of Magic, which he took great delight in, minding to study and practise the same. And so mightily profited he therein, that in very short time he grew very expert in the same: and at length, growing old, and calling to mind his former life passed, and considering the wrong which he thought he had sustained by his subjects, it caused him to determine how to be revenged on them, which in this sort he brought to pass.  
There is in the westermost parts of America, a small Island very fruitful, but whether by nature, or by some other accident, or determination of Fortune, only inhabited by divers huge and execrable Monsters, there-hence by his devilish Art, did this ungodly Querenus cause to be brought the huge monster, which you to your endless honour have so valiantly slain: and placing him here, by that means thought fully to be revenged, where by the space of twenty years he hath now remained, to the utter ruin and destruction of this Country, laying it utterly waste and desolate, having devoured so many Christian bodies, that it grieves my very soul to think of, no man before this your coming, ever daring to adventure himself against him, although many times there hath many great companies assembled themselves, to have assailed him, but coming into his presence, the very sight of him hath put them in such a fear, as not able to endure, they have been forced to turn their backs and fly, trusting more to their heels then their hands, many of them being not able to fly so fast as their fellows, where forced to stay behind, & remain as food unto the ugly Monster: but now (God be thanked) by your noble prowess, brought unto his end.  
The Prince received no small admiration hereat, wondering that a man should be so wicked, as to revenge his wrong by so hateful a means. But to bring him out of this his imaginations, the Hermit would discourse with him of divers other matters, sometimes of one matter, and then of another. And now the Knight having remained by the space of ten days in the Hermitage, he was indifferent well recovered, during which time he was many times visited by his own company, and also by the inhabitants of the Country, which came daily to see him. For by this time had Fame so spread abroad his haughty exploit, that there came many from divers Countries adjoining, offering themselves, and all that they had to be at his disposition: but he being not minded to stay there longer than that his wounds were thoroughly whole, gave them thanks for their kind proffer, telling them that he could not accept of the the same, by reason he was to follow a certain earnest adventure which he was in quest of. Thus passing away the time until he was fully whole, the day before he meant to departed towards his ship, the old Hermit being in talk with him, told him of a certain adventure not far of, which in his younger years, he did remember to have seen many to make trial thereof, but never heard of any to have attained the accomplishment of the same.  
The Knight being desirous to know the same, desired the Hermit to declare it unto him, which he did in this manner. Not far hence (quoth he) there standeth a small Chapel, situate at the foot of an hill, now altogether overgrown with briars and bushes, by reason of the Monsters cruelty, which lately to your eternal renown, you so famously have vanquished and slain: in former time this Chapel was dedicated to the divine service of GOD, by the renowned King Flintus, Prince of the Britons, in the time that the Romans ruled here with their mighty Legions, and afterwards beautified and adorned by the famous Prince Lionel his son, with many sumptious and costly ornaments. In the midst of which a little before his death, he caused his own Armour, being one of the best in the world, and with which he had accomplished many excellent achievements, to be hanged up there, to be kept for his eternal memory. Where it remained a great while untouched of any, only through the privilege of the place, until the time of the famous Arthur, at which time the excellent Magician Merlin knowing that there would be many, which not respecting the sin of sacrilege, would not stick to take away so precious a jewel as was the same, cast forthwith so mighty an enchantment on the Armour, that none but such a one, who in his time should excel all others, both in valour, courtesy and loyalty, should be able to take down the same.  
Now not long after, according to his imagination it fell out, for many being desirous to obtain so good an Armour, made trial to take the same away, but hetherunto there was no man so hardy, as once to move it. Wherefore I am fully persuaded, that it was ordained only for you, in whom I may boldly say, remains the greatest valour and magnanimity, that may be possible in any Knight now living, as already your deeds have manifested. The prince thanking him for his undeserved praises, attributing them rather to his love and affection towards him, then for any merit he knew in himself worthy the least of them: withal desiring the good old man, to accompany him thither, where he would likewise make trial of his fortune, as many others had done before him, albeit he had no hope to attain that, which so many good Knights had failed of.  
Thus departing from the Hermitage, they went the next way towards the Chapel, where they arrived about the time they were wont to sing their evening Mass there, at their coming they found it desolate, the doors & windows overgrown with briars and nettles, the walls ruinous, and all things else grown into decay, which caused not only the ancient Hermit, but also the whole company to shed tears from their eyes. Then at the request of the Prince, the Hermit sang Even sung unto them, which had not been heard there in twenty years before.  
Their prayers being ended, they went up in a small I'll of the Chapel, where hung the foresaid Armour, with divers other Relics, which he beheld, with a great desire to enjoy the same: then lifting up his eyes to heaven, imploring God to be his aid, he stretched forth his hand to take them down from their place; which he 〈◊〉 without any pain at all, to the no small admiration of the beholders. Then pulling of his own Armour, he armed himself with this which he had gotten, which fitted him so well, as if it purposely had been made for him. The Armour was of a green colour, representing a field full of Orange trees bearing fruit, some fallen, some ripe as ready to fall, and some again green, as but now budding, which wrought such a content unto the Prince's mind, as not any thing might be greater. The shield also he took on his arm, and although it was impersable, yet was it framed of such a substance, that it was as light as any ordinary shield, the device being in a field Verte, three Lions rampant, or signifying indeed, three Lions which the famous Lionel slew in the Kingdom of Spain, as you may read in that History, and from which likewise he was called Lyonqueller.   

CHAP. V How the Prince Euordanus departing out of Walls, arrived in Ireland, naming himself the Knight of the Lions, and what happened unto him on his way towards Dublin.  
THe Prince having thoroughly recovered himself of his wounds which he received of the Monster, and having gained the Armour and shield of the famous Lionel, departed towards the harbour of Milford, taking his leave of the courteous Hermise, and the rest of the inhabitants of the Country: many of whom were desirous to have kept him company, but he would not in any wise accept thereof. And now being come unto the harbour, he found his ship in a readiness, and having the wind indifferent fair, they set sail towards Ireland, where the next day they arrived in the famous River of Waterford: where being come to an anchor, they went on shore to view the pleasantness of the Country.  
Which at that time was indifferent delightful, by reason of the many pleasant springs, which descended from the Mountains, causing with their rumbling noise a most delightful harmony. The next day the Prince accompanied only with his own Squire, and the Squire of Lenarda, whom he willed in any wise not to make him known, otherwise thenby the name of the Knight of the Lions. Departed towards the City of Dublin, whereas Adresto remained, in the delightful company of Valeria, for so was the Merchant's daughter named, of whom he was so greatly enamoured, and for whose sake he accomplished divers and sundry combats, defending her beauty against all comers, to his no small fame and renown: for that within the space of two years he had overcome and subdued, above a thousand Knights, not at any time himself having received the foil.  
Thetherwards road the Knight of the Lions, coasting over Mountains and Valleys: the first day not happening on any adventure worth the recital. The next day in the morning, a little after he was departed from the place whereas they had line that night, there met him a Damsel, mounted on a small hackney, making marvelous haste, and coming unto him, casting herself from her horse to the ground, spoke in this manner. Most courteous and valiant Knight, for so much my mind assureth you to be: let the humble petition of the most distressed Damsel in the world, move your nohle heart to pity and relieve this my cruel disaster, which without the aid of you or some other valiant Knight is now uncurable, wherefore by your solemn oath of Knighthood, by which you are bound to defend all distressed persons, especially Ladies and Damsels, and also by her whom you love most, I conjure you, to aid and defend me in a most right and just quarrel.  
The Knight beholding her woeful gesture, with her solemn conjurations, which she uttered with such abundance of sighs, and tears flowing down from the fountains of her eyes, as might have moved the hardest heart to relent, caused her to stand up, and willed her to declare the effect and cause of this her complaint, assuring her, that if her cause were corespondent to her sorrows, she had met with one who would either lose his life, or work her content. The Damsel being comforted with this his promise, rose up from the ground, and wiping the tears from her eyes, began thus. Most worthy Knight, know that not passing five leagues hence, there dwelled sometimes a famous & valiant Knight, who in the flower of his age proved still fortunate in all his enterprises, especially in his love towards a noble Dame of this Country, named Molenda, whom at length by the consent of their friends he enjoyed in lawful marriage, and lived together a long time in great joy and content: and in their latter years GOD blessed them with a fair daughter, whom they named Modesta, happy in that she was descended from so virtuous Parents, but afterward most infortunate, as by the process of my speeches you shall understand. For Eugenius, (for so was the ancient Knight my father called) being stricken in years, & having no more children but myself, who then had attained unto the age of twelve years, my Father (as I have before said) being stricken in age, and also grievously vexed with an extreme malady, called unto him my mother and myself, and after some fatherly exhortations to me given, he turned unto my mother & said.  
My dear and most beloved Molenda, knowing that my fatal time is at hand, and that death, who spareth no man, hath already seized on my body, I have thought good before my death, to recommend this our daughter unto your most loving and motherly care, desiring you in any case, not to permit or suffer her, being come unto ripeness of years, to match with any of this Province, which unto my soul would be most grievous: and that during her nonage, you would see her most carefully instructed in virtue, whereby she may be worthy of this patrimony whereunto she is borne. My father having uttered these or such like speeches, and finding himself to draw towards his end, embraced us both in his arms, and turning about his face, immediately departed out of this wretched world, leaving us to bewail this our cross fortunes. Now after we had solemnized his funerals, and had according to the use of this Country, by the space of one whole year, in mournful attire bewailed his death: it happened on a time, that my mother being desirous to recreate her over-troubled mind, with some delightful pleasures, desired a great number of her neighbours, as well Knights, Ladies, Gentlemen, and Damsels, as also others of meaner sort, to come unto her Castle, where they were all heartily welcome, and worthily feasted by the space of three days, during which space, they passed away the time with many sundry disports, to the content of us all.  
But alas here began the head or spring of all my grief, as by the sequel of my speeches you shall perceive, for amongst this company, there was a Knight whose livelihood joined with ours, a man endued with rites sufficient, had the Gods graced him so well with virtue and good conditions. This Knight, I say, feigning himself to be attached with my beauty, desired me of my mother in marriage. But she respecting more the riches of the mind, than the worldly wealth of the man, gave him a flat denial, alleging my youth to be such, as was very unfit for a husband: and that to match a young girl without a settled affection, was the next way to lead her into a life far worse than death: for then to be matched where one cannot love, there is on earth no greater torment.  
He taking this denial in very ill part, departed unto his own Castle, being not passing three leagues of, where he remained awhile, contemplating revenge in his heart, and devising by what means he might accomplish the same, at last determined to win that by force, which by fair means he could not hope to attain. And being settled in this resolution, he gathered together the greatest forces that he could: and within a month after, no one suspecting such villainy, in the night time most traitorously assaulted our Castle, where having gotten the possession thereof, slew all those who made any resistance against him. And taking my mother in her Chamber, threatened her with she like cruelty as he had showed unto the rest, if forthwith she did not give me her woeful daughter, to be his Concubine: for now having gotten our possessions by force, he disdained to have me to his wife, which I being in the next réeme and hearing, immediately threw myself out at a window, where by chance falling to the ground without any great hurt, I found his Palfry ready tide, on which forthwith I mounted, flying away as fast as I could, never staying in any place, until now meeting with you, of whom I hope to receive help and comfort.  
Hare she stayed her speeches, pouring forth abundance of tears, which caused the young Knight greatly to pity her: vowing unto her, if that they remained his coming, he would so punish their detestable treasons, as should be both to her content, and also an example to all those, who should afterward attempt the like. And willing her to lead on the way, they road onwards most part of the day, not meeting with any one till evening, about the time that Vesperus appearing in the West, gave them warning to take up their lodging, which forthwith they did: for coming into a little thick wood, and the Sky waxing dark, whereby they feared to miss their way, they laid themselves down under a thick tough of trees, where after they had refreshed themselves, with such viands as his Squire had brought with him, they betook themselves to sleep, the Prince not so much as putting off his Helm, for fear lest they might be set on in their sleep: and he also appointed the two Squires to watch by turn, so much did his mind misdoubt the wickedness of those people, who inhabited thereabouts, given only to rapine and theft.   

CHAP. VI How the Knight of the Lions sleeping in a wood, was set on by a company of thieves: and after, how he came to the Castle of the woeful Lady Molenda, where he slew the traitor Calepin.  
THE Knight being accompanied with his two Squires, and the Damsel, had scarcely slept until midnight, when his Squire, whose turn was to watch, gave him notice that he did hear a noise not far off, which he did judge to be of some company coming towards them. The Prince, immediately taking his shield on his arm, & putting himself in a readiness, commanded them to lie still, feigning themselves to sleep, which they did, when presently they beheld ten thieves armed with swords and other weapons, who coming near them, conferred amongst themselves, whether it were best to kill them as they slept, or else to set upon them, and having bound them, to rob them of that they had: which when the Knight heard he immediately start up, and taking his sword in his hand, ran upon them, where the first he met with he sent to Pluto his kingdom, to give an account of his wicked life: his fellows beholding his mishap, laid on with all their forces, vowing to be revenged for his death, whom soon after they did accompany: for the Knight being both strong, and also well armed with the Armour of Sir Lionel, made no account of their blows, which to him did no more hurt than if they had laid on their blows upon some flinty Rock. Thus continued the fight by the space of an hour, in which time he had dispatched six of them: the others thinking to save themselves by flight, were stayed by the two Squires, who slew one of them outright, the others falling on their knees desired pardon, which the Knight forthwith granted them, causing them to swear to give over that kind of life, which they did: the one of them being something stricken in years, betook himself afterwards to a Hermitage, where he spent the rest of his life in prayer, and bewailing of his sins, an other entreated him to accept of him as his slave, which the Prince was the more willing to do, in regard that he should serve him as a guide, during his travel in that Country, which unto a stranger is very perilous.  
And truly afterwards he did not repent the saving of his life, for that he did him good service, as you shall read in the sequel of the History. After this conflict, the Knight and his company remained all the remnant of the night discoursing of many matters, in which the thief declared unto him the fashion of the Country, which unto the Knight seemed very strange. Now beautiful Aurora having changed her mourning weed, and clad herself in her richest robes, to welcome her dear beloved bridegroom the sun, the Knight of the Lions with his company mounted on horseback, all saving his new entertained servant Gillimo, for so was the thief called whom he had received into his service: and taking his nearest way to the Castle of Molenda, they traveled on until it was about nine of the clock, at what time they arrived there, (even as Calapine having rifled the same, was ready to departed, causing two of his companions to dreg the good old Lady by the hair, minding to carry her unto a Castle of his, where she should remain prisoner, until such time as she should deliver her daughter, with the whole inhearitance into his custody,) which when the Knight of the Lions beheld, he set spurs unto his horse, and having almost overtaken them, said, Stay villains, and declare wherefore you use that Lady in such vile sort, or else you shall dearly abide it. Calapine turning about, and seeing but one Knight pursuing them, said, I list not to declare the cause unto thee, but if thou get thee not packing, my Lance shall teach thee the guerdon due for thy too much over boldness. Then placing their staves in their rests, they ran one against the other with all their forces, and meeting together, their encounter was so furious, that Calapine was thrown to the ground being very sore bruised with the fall. The other passed on half astonished, as never having received the like buffet. Then turning about his horse with his sword drawn, he road towards Calapine, who by this time had recovered his feet, which the Knight of the Lions perceiving, dismounted himself, delivering his horse unto Gillimo, who by this time was come unto them: here began a most dangerous and fierce foot combat, for Calapine was one of the best Knights in all Ireland, and knew well how to defend himself, but yet far unequal to the other: who pursued him with so many huge & weighty blows, breaking his shield and Armour in pieces, that he caused the blood to issue forth abundantly: himself through the goodness of his Armour not having received any wound, so that it manifestly appeared, which way the victory would bend itself: had it not been that the rest of Callapins company, (who perceived him almost overcome) put themselves in his defence: Here again the battle began to grow doubtful, they being eight, and all on horseback, whereby they had the far greater advantage: which the good Knight perceiving, and seeing there was no way to avoid this danger but by his own prowess, gave Calapine so sound a blow on the head, that cleaving both Helm and head to the teeth, caused him to fall dead to the ground: and making as if he would have fled, he came to Gillimo, and mounting himself on horseback, he encountered one of them, who breaking his staff on his good shield, was sent besides his saddle to measure his length on the ground, where to make him sure for doing any further harm, Gillimo took pains to cut off his head. But now was the other seven come unto him, who all at once charged him with their Lances, in such sort, that his horse not being able to endure the encounter, fell under him, but soon was he again remounted by his Squire, who brought him Callapins horse, than began he to lay on such blows, as well he gave them to understand, that they could not long endure against him, from some cutting their arms from their bodies, overthrowing others to the ground, who never could rise again, for that the two Squires and Gillimo made them safe, by cutting their throats: thus continued the battle two long hours, the Knight of the Lions never having leisure to breath himself, so obstinate were they in the seeking of their own deaths: which by this time six of them had gained: the other two, seeing their fellows all slain, betook themselves to flight, hoping thereby to save their lives, but being pursued by the Knight, they were soon overtaken, leaving their lives for a satisfaction of their former offences. Which when Molenda perceived, with her Daughter, who by this time was come unto her, cast themselves at his feet, and gave him most hearty thanks for their delivery, proffering him all that they had, if he would accept thereof. But he raising them from the ground, willed them to render thanks to GOD, who had sent him as a scourge to punish such wicked offenders, as were those whom he had vanquished.  
Then taking their way into the Castle, they remained there all that night, where they were feasted by the Mother and the Daughter, who seeing him so young and beautiful, admired how he could be of such force, to effect such deeds as he had brought to pass: therefore desiring to know what he was, Molenda began in this sort: Most valiant Knight, seeing you will not receive any thing of us, whereby we might manifest unto you the thankfulness of our minds, yet I beseech you let us know unto whom we are so much bounden, whereby in our prayers we may record this your memorable action. The Knight answered, As for that you demand, I cannot satisfy you, because I know not mine own estate, but where I am known, I am called the Knight of the Lions, by reason of these Lions which I bear on my shield. Farther they would have questioned with him, but fearing to displease him, they gave over: and having brought him unto his Chamber, they committed him to GOD, where that night, by reason of his extreme weariness, and his watching the night before, he slept very sound.  
Where we will leave him awhile, and return to declare what happened in the mean time to Prince Edward of England, whom you may remember in the former part of this History, intended to demand the beautiful Princess Emilia, of her Father the King of France.   

CHAP. VII. How the Prince of England demanded Emilia of her father in marriage, and of the strange adventure that happened in the French Court, whereby all the chief Knights were forced to forsake the Court.  
IT is declared in the first part of this history, how that Prince Edward of England, being in the French Court, where he overcame the Duke of Orleans, and after maintained the Princess Emilia, to be the beautifullest Lady in the world, of whom he grew so far enamoured, that he determined to demand her of the King her father. Wherefore one day being in a melancholy humour, walking in a delightful garden, joining to the Palace to recreate himself, the King likewise came thither, being accompanied with one page only, and finding the Prince somewhat pensive, demanded the cause thereof: to which he replied. The cause of this my dumps, in which you say I now am in, proceeds partly from yourself, in regard I fear your denial in a matter, for which I mind to be a suitor unto you: which fear drives me into a doubt, whether I were best to speak in the same, fearing to be denayed, or else conceals the same to myself, which likewise may breed a farther danger.  
The King a while studying with himself, what the matter might be, at length gave him this answer. Most noble Prince, the love which I bore unto you is such, that it causeth me not to dissemble with you, wherefore know that I cannot choose but take these your speeches, in very unkind part, howsoever by you spoken: for if the matter be reasonable which you would request, then how far you wrong me in doubting my consent therein, I refer to God only, who knows the thoughts of my heart. If unreasonable, to yourself, who knows what it is from ones friend to expect those things, which he cannot well without his great prejudice grant: wherefore declare boldly what it is that troubles your mind, and assure yourself, you shall find me willing to satisfy you therein, if it be not greatly to the prejudice of my honour, and state of this my Kingdom. The Prince hearing this friendly, and to him joyful conclusion: replied, that he did greatly thank his Majesty, for that great love which he did assure him of: wherefore now putting all fear and doubt aside, he would declare the same unto him, which was this: that being greatly wounded with the virtues, and beauty of the Princess Emilia his daughter, whom in heart he had vowed to love, and fearing lest he had otherwise disposed of her, indeed was the cause of his pensiveness.  
Which when the King heard, with a smiling countenance made him this answer: and is it possible, that beauty can cause such alteration in you, or else that love can so soon take possession of your heart, as coming free to this my Court, where you have scarcely remained one month: but indeed your combat with the Duke our Cousin, and after hazarding yourself in the same Challenge, did cause me, in sort to imagine, that you were somewhat entangled in those nets.  
But now to the purpose, as she is my daughter, so do I think she will not make her choice without my consent, neither I being her father, will force her consent where she doth not love, but if by fair means she may be won hereunto, assure yourself, that the house of France, is most willing to link itself in love and amity with the Prince of England, whose noble valour, deserves to be highly had in estimation.  
The Prince for this his kind grant, would needs have kissed his royal hands, which the King would not suffer him to do, but embracing him in his arms, departed immediately into the Palace, and coming into the Queen's chamber of presence, called for the Princess Emilia, and willing all save the Queen, and her to a void the presence, he demanded of her, whether there were any love between her and the English Prince: at which demand, she dying her Princely cheeks with a maidenly blush, and falling on her knees, answered. Most gracious father, considering that in concealing the truth from you, being thereof demanded, I shall not only break the bounds of duty by being disobedient, but also offend God in making of a lie: know therefore, that since the day wherein he overcame the Duke of Orleans, I have so entangled myself in his love, which before being by him sued unto I made scorn of, that I can find no way to alter the same, but by death only, which rather than it should be to your dislike, I would willingly endure were it never so cruel.  
The King being joyful hereat, yet seeming to be discontented, said: In faith and is it possible, that thou most fond and foolish gearle, shouldest so much forget the bounds of duty and virtue, as without my consent, so to settle thy fancy on a stranger: but I doubt not but thou wilt as soon repent thy choice, as thou hast forgotten thy duty in choosing, for who knows whether he being a young amorous Prince, hath not made some other choice already, where then are thy hopes, or what will become of thy love. The Princess hearing her father in these terms, knew not well what answer to make, but at length with tears in her eyes, and fetching a deep sigh from her heart, she besought him to consider she force and power of love, which was of such might, that who most sought to strive against it, was the more cruelly therewith in the end wounded: and that as yet her love being known to none, seeing it so greatly disliked his Majesty, she would for ever keep close, although it did cost her, her life: which she was sure it would do, seeing it had taken already such deep rooting in her heart. The King seeing her constancy, & loath to grieve her any farther, took her by the arm, & raising her from the ground, bid her to be of good comfort, for seeing that her affection proceeded from virtue, and not of any wanton or lustful appetite, he did both allow of it, and yield consent unto the choice which she had made, willing her farther, to esteem of the Prince, as one who not only dearly loved her, but also was worthy to be beloved, both for his valour & magnanimity of mind, of the greatest Lady in Christendom.  
Thus leaving her not a little comforted, he went to impart the same to the Prince, unto whom this news was more welcome, then to have been made Lord of the greated Kingdom of the world. And taking order with the King for the day of their marriage, against which time there should be prepared a great Tourney, he also sent over into England the Duke of York, to certify the King his father hereof, which was to him most welcome news, being now greatly stricken in years. Also there were many Heralds sent forth to proclaim this great Tourney, which should beheld in the City of Paris, at the nuptials of the Prince of England, and the beautiful Emelia: against which time there came daily, many brave and gallant Knights, from divers Kingdoms, as well Christians as Sarasines: for that the King had granted by his proclamations, a safe conduct for all comers.  
Now in this mean time, the Duke of Orleans being thoroughly recovered of his wounds, which he had received against Don Edward, and finding that with the loss of his honour, he had likewise lost his love, grew therewith into so great rage, that he would have slain himself, had it not been for some of his servants, who always gave diligent attendance unto him: and devising with himself on revenge, at last resolved by unknown treachery, to bring it thus to pass. There was in this his Dukedom a great enchanter, who with his accursed spells, was able in a manner to pull the stars out of their places: to this man the Duke resorted, and making him privy to his intent, desired him to devise some means how unknown he might be revenged on the English Prince. The enchanter willing to show his love unto the Duke, immediately devised a mean, how not only to be revenged on the prince, but also on as many as were well-willers unto him: which he did bring to pass in this sort. There was in the Kingdom of France, some ten leagues from Paris a great Forest, in which this enchanter by his devilish art, erected a stately Castle environed about with high walls, & deep ditches, so as it seemed one of the strongest, and fairest Castles of the Kingdom: likewise he enchanted it in such sort, that though a thousand Knights had sought for it, yet notwithstanding there should none have found the same, but such as they thought should not be of such force, as to conquer the gardants, who were two fierce & mighty Giants, far exceeding the common stature of others of that kind. Also there was a Knight a kinsman of the Dukes, who being accompanied with 20 or 30 attendants, always remained herein: the Giants who kept the guard, the one of them was called Brandofell, with him first must those Knights have to do, that came to make trial of this adventure, the other was named Furioll, excelling in strength all the Giants of his time, to him belonged the combat with those Knights, to whom fortune was so favourable, as to overcome Brandofell. In this manner having provided for the guard of this enchanted Castle, they devised a mean by which to bring the Prince unto the same, which was in this manner. The enchanter Ligustargo, for so was he called, had a daughter indifferent fair, who in dissimulation was as skilful, as her father in the art of Magic, for she had her tears at command, and could so well frame her countenance to sorrow, that there was none but would have taken her to be very sorrow itself: to her was referred the means to seduce the Prince, who coming unto the Court, with her hair disperssed about her shoulders, her garments rend and torn, and being conducted into the great Hall, she was admired at of every one, and greatly pitied, for the outward show of sorrow, which did seem so much to afflict her: in this manner being conducted where the King, with many Princes and great Lords were sitting togethers, she demanded which was the English Prince. Who hearing himself named, immediately stepped forth, demanding what she would with him: she presently falling on her knees, fetching many vehement and deep sighs, pouring forth such abundance of tears, as a while detained the passage of her speech, which caused great pity in all the beholders, but especially in the Prince, who naturally was very pitiful: at length having recovered the use of her tongue, with a deep sigh proceeded in this manner. Most worthy and valorous Prince, if the tears of the most distressed and woefullest creature in the world, may move pity and compassion, in your heroic and noble mind, then let these my complaints have access unto your virtuous heart, which I have heard reported to be such, that causeth me rather than unto any other of these noble Knights, to make my complaint, hoping by you to receive some comfort in this my great heaviness, which happened in this manner. Being sent by the beautiful Duchess Gelnarda, Duchess of Stravonia unto a friend of hers, whose fame peradventure you have heretofore heard of, called Segando, who now remains in the Kingdom of Island, in the company of a beautiful Damsel, clean forgetting both my Lady and her love, which heretofore to him was esteemed most dear, my Lady having made divers trials for recovering of him, now as her last refuge sent me unto him with a packet of letters, & a ring which was of such virtue, that he should no sooner have put the same on his finger, but he should presently be so overcome with her love, that he should not be able to rest quiet, until such time as he were come into her presence. And now having traveled through most part of Italy, and coming into this Kingdom, not passing ten leagues from this City, coming through a Forest, I was taken by almighty Giant, to me most fearful, who after he had taken from me the casket with divers jewels that I had, he returned into a Cave from whence he came: this my Lord is the cause of my grief, and likewise will be the death of the most gentlest Lady living, if you, or some other noble Knight take not pity upon us, by slaying that ugly Giant, whereby I may regain the ring: here again powered she forth such abundance of tears, as if her eyes had been a fountain, or lively velspring, intermeddling the same with so many deep sighs, as would have moved a flinty heart to compassion: much more than think you did it move the English Prince, who willing her to be of good comfort, promised her that either he would work her content, or lose himself in adventuring the same: for which with a demure and sad countenance she yielded him hearty thanks. What followed hereof you shall read in the Chapter following.   

CHAP. VIII. How the Prince Don Edward departed from the Court, with the sorrowful Damsel, and how coming into the Forest, he fought with the Giant Brandofell, and how he was taken prisoner, for whose mishap there was made great sorrow in the Court.  
THe Prince having promised help and succour, to that wild counterfeit Damsel, took order the next day to departed towards the Forest: in the mean time, coming up into the Princess Emelias' chamber, and falling into discourse with her of this his intended journey, from which she greatly dissuaded him, her mind foretelling, the great damage which he should sustain thereby: but no disswations could prevail with him herein, so earnest was he bend to follow this his cross fortune, appointed to him by destiny: but after long speeches between them of this and other matters, they fell from talk to dalliance, so that of a beautiful maiden, the Princess became the fairest woman in all France, at which time she was conceived of two goodly children, as you shall read of hereafter. Now let us return to our former purpose: the next day, no sooner had the Sun rising out of Dame Thetis lodging, mounted himself on his never resting Chariot, but the valorous Prince being accompanied with the Damsel, and one Squire only, for more company he would not accept of, armed at all points saving his Helm, which his Squire carried by reason of the heat: took his journey towards the unfortunate Forest. Most part of the day road they onwards, the Damsel for the better hiding of her treachery, declared unto him a large discourse, of the love between the Duchess her Lady and Mistress, and the Knight Sergando, with many his valorous and haughty deeds of arms, whereof some part the Prince had heard of, which caused him to give the more credit to the rest. Thus passed they away all that day, till coming unto a small village, some two leagues distant from the Forest, even about the time, that Phoebus with his golden beams, was some three degrees descended from the Meridian: and because it was too late to combat with the Giant, they determined for that night to take up their rest, whereby the next day he might not be altogether wearied with travel, and also to have if occasion served, the longer time to finish the combat. Thus having taken up their lodgings in a small cottage, they refreshed themselves with such viands as that Country village would afford: and after their repast, betaking themselves to their rest, where the Prince of all the night could scarcely enjoy one slumber, till towards the morning cloosing his eyes, he slumbered a little, in which he thought that he came before a goodly Castle, one of the fairest that ever he beheld, having but one entrance which was at a small wicket, through which it seemed unto him, he saw very many enter, but none to return back again, at which he seemed very much to marvel, and going about to enter, he saw a mighty Giant coming unto him, the which sight so amazed him, that foorthwithall he wakened. And blessing himself, called his Squire unto him, and demanding whether it were day or no, he rose & armed himself: then taking a small repast, he departed towards the Forest, where he arrived by the time that the splendent Sun with his glistering beams, began to light the earth, causing a silver show appear on the face thereof.  
Long had he not road in this Forest, (musing very much what his dream should mean, sometimes imagining that it foreshowed some great misadventure to ensue, then wishing his dream had continued, whereby he might have had some notice of the end, as well as of the beginning) but the Damsel calling unto him, told him, that now they were come even unto the place where the Giant had rob her, & that she doubted he was not far of. Wherefore calling for his Helm, and clasping it on, taking his Lance in his hand, behold there appeared before his sight the same Castle, which in his dream he thought he had seen: and casting about his head, he saw coming towards him a mighty Giant, the greatest of stature that ever he beheld, mounted on a Courser answerable to his weight, which caused the Prince at the first almost to be afraid, yet well considering the usual unlustiness of those huge monsters, he took courage unto him, minding to do his uttermost to win himself immortal fame, by vanquishing so huge a lump.  
The Giant coming near unto him, bid him provide himself for the Combat, for that without leave he was come so near unto their Castle whereof he was appointed Gardant. The Prince immediately replied, that seeing he was by adventure come thither, and being offered the combat, which he was sure would breed him immortal fame, he could do no less than accept thereof. Then setting spurs to their horses, and placing their slaves in their rests, they met together with such fury, that breaking their Lances into a thousand shyvers, they met with their bodies likewise together so furiously, that they tumbled both horse and men to the ground, being both greatly astonished with their rude encounter: and rising from the ground, they betook them to their swords, the Giant drawing forth a mighty Scimitar, as much as another reasonable Knight with one hand was able to lift from the ground: and brandishing the same about his head, began to deliver many mighty blows at his enemy, which the Prince perceiving, and fearing greatly to endure the same, not being by force able to withstand the same, avoided them by the quickness of his body, causing him to spend his might in vain, and many times did he both with thrusts and blows endanger his mighty adversary, although his Armour were of pure steel well-near a finger thick, which the Giant perceiving, & therewith growing enraged, he determined with one blow to end the conflict, and lifting up his Scimitar aloft, made offer of a blow, which the Prince thought to take on his shield, hoping to have given him a wound in one of his legs in the mean time, as indeed he did, but the Giant having by this means a full blow at him, lighted upon his shield, cleaving it in two pieces, and passing farther, entering through both his Helm and coyse of steel, wounded him in the head, causing him to reel backwards half astonished therewith: but yet recovering himself before the Giant could deliver another blow, determined with the skilful Massive, who being once tossed to his damage, by the horn of the sturdy Bull, minding no more so to endanger himself with the like, gins to lie low on the ground, thereby hoping both to avoid his enemies might, and eke to be ready to take the least advantage when it should be offered: even so played the valiant Prince, who to his cost having made trial of his enemy's strength, determined no more to hazard himself to the like, trusted wholly to the quickness of his body, which policy served him to good use, for thereby he caused the huge monster, not only to weary out himself, by his multitude of blows which he bestowed in vain, but also many time had the means, to give him divers great wounds, causing his blood to issue out in such abundant sort, that the green grass was died into a vermilion blush, as being ashamed, that human men should have so little reason, as to seek the ruin and overthrow of each other, upon so small occasion.  
Thus continued the fight most part of the day, no one knowing to whom victory would attain, both of them being wounded in many parts of their bodies, especially the Giant, who by reason of the great effusion of blood, which he sustained, began to bear his shield low, and even almost breathless, the Prince being in little better case, was contented to suffer him to take breath: and leaning awhile on their swords, the Giant told the Prince, that if he would yield unto him, he would cause him to be used with the greater lenity, otherwise, he should expect nought save death. To which the Prince made no reply, but willing the Giant to defend himself, they renewed their Combat, which continued awhile with great fierceness on both sides. But at length, the Giant being overwearied, and fainting for want of blood, began again to give back, which the prince perceiving, and considering that to be long in conquering, would be the means that he himself in the end should be vanquished, took Time by the front, and pursuing the Giant, gave him such a blow on the Helm, that it caused him to reel: and before he could recover himself, he gave him another, which caused him to fall to the ground. The Prince minding to follow his good fortune, stooped to unlace his Helm, whereby he might have parted his head from his shoulders: but hereof he was hindered by the mighty Purioll, who coming unto him, willed him to give over the vanquished, and to defend himself against the force of his arm.  
The Prince looking about, and beholding his terrible countenance and gesture, began greatly to doubt, considering that already he was overwearied with his former Combat: then calling to mind the words of the Princess Emilia at his departure, he wisked he had been ruled by her counsel, which if he had followed, he had not fallen into this unlooked for mischief. And now again casting of all fear, the Giant being come near unto him, he minded to sell his life and liberty at as dear a rate at he could, determining if he could, to prolong the fight as long as he might, hoping in the end to weary out that Giant, as he had done Brandofell, but hereof he was deceived, by reason that his weariness, together with his loss of blood, had so taken away the agility and quickness of his body, that he was not able to avoid the blows so lightly, but that the Giant many times met with him, causing the blood to issue forth in sundry places: and again, his strength was so diminished, that he could not (if at any time by advantage he happened to strike the Giant) so much as once pierce his massy Armour. Thus continued they by the space of half an hour, the Prince ever receiving wound upon wound, until at length, being altogether wearied with his overlong travel, (as having continued in fight from seven of the clock in the morning, until five in the afternoon, and having lost great abundance of blood,) gathered all his forces together, and minding before he died, to endamage his enemy what he could, struck at the Giant, which he avoiding, the blow descended to the ground: and the Prince not being able to recover his might, being so far spent, fell therewith to the ground also in a trance. Which the Giant beholding, and (contrary to his nature) pitying his overthrow, considering the great valour which he had seen in him, went and pulled off his Helm to give him air, and taking him up in his arms, carried him into the Castle, where he was laid on a good bed, and his wounds carefully looked unto. For Sir Pestrill, who under the Duke his Cousin was Commander of the Castle, was a very virtuous Knight, and one who greatly pitied the Prince's captivity: considering what grief would thereby rise, both to the King, and all the Nobility of France. He also caused the body of the Giant Brandofell to be brought in and cured: whose wounds though they were many and great, yet were there none of them mortal. The Damsel seeing things sort according to her mind, departed away highly contented.  
Now return we to the Prince's Squire, who having beheld this unhappy overthrow of his Master, together with his imprisonment, not knowing whether he were living or dead, fared like a man out of his wits, and ran raging up and down the Forest, crying and exclaiming against fortune, and the destinies which had permitted such great invistice: and at length, the morning being come, he determined to return unto the City of Paris, where the next day he arrived, and coming unto the King, before him and all the nobles of the Court, he recounted his Master's misadventure, together with all that happened in the battle with the two Giants: which bred such a grief and amazedness in all the hearers, as well you may judge if the like event should happen. Every one determining to hazard their lives, or to set him free if he lived, all concluding it to be an enchantment, knowing that in that place, there was never any Castle heard of. But when this news came to the Princess Emilia, you may well think her grief was not small, for falling presently into a trance, her Damsels had much to do to recover life in her again: and being in the end recovered, bursting forth into bitter exclamations, both against the heavens and powers thereof, thus continued she all that night, sounding and resounding in the arms of her Ladies and Gentlewomen: the King her father, and the Queen using all the means they could, by persuasions to comfort her. Here will we for a while leave them in this general lamentation, for the loss of the English Prince, every one making provision to go try the same adventure: and will return to speak, of the Prince jago of Saxony.   

CHAP. IX. How the Prince of Saxony remaining, discontent in his father's Court after the departure of Euordanus: departed secretly as a Knight arrant, to seek adventures.  
YOu may remember how discontented the Saxon Prince took the departure of his supposed brother, the Gentleman of the Forest: who having seen him aboard, & being again returned unto the Court, began to wax so melancholy, that he seemed to take delight in nothing, although the Duke his father perceiving it, and for remedy for the same, devised all the means he could to work his content, as by proclaiming justs and tournaments, wherein he heretofore was wont to receive great content, and other times hunting of the wild Boar, and such other exercises, still fearing his departure.  
But neither this, nor yet the delightful company of the Princess his sister, whom he entirely loved, could in any sort work him that content, which he was wont to receive in the company of the Gentleman of the Forest: whose want, together with the desire of following strange adventures, wherein he hoped to achieve immortal renown, by his valiant and heroic deeds, which he doubted not but so perform, increased in him such an ardent desire to travel. Whereof many times being denaied by the Duke his Father, at length having resolved with himself to departed, he called unto him one of his Squires whom he entirely loved, and on whose secrecy and good service, he more depended then on any other, and declaring unto him his determination, willed him to provide for their departure, which should be with all the secrecy that might be. His Squire, having understood his masters resolution, departed to provide for the same, and coming to the harbour, found a ship ready bound for England: and agreeing with the master thereof for their passage, the next night conveyed aboard both horse and armour, and such other things as should be requisite for their journey: and having informed the Prince hereof, the next day, the Prince being accompanied only with his Squire, as many times he was accustomed, departed from the Palace, not suspected of any one, having left in his chamber window, a letter written to his father, declaring therein the cause of his departure. Thus walking a foot, they arrived towards evening at the port where the ship ancored, and coming aboard, having the wind fair, they set sail, directing their course for Dover, of which harbour the ship was. Thus being at Sea, and having the wind and weather fair, the Prince betook himself to sleep, being with cares overwatched, for in three nights before he had not slept, so earnest was his mind bend on this his journey: and now being as he thought in security from being stopped of his purpose, he slept sound, till it was towards the morning, when he thought there appeared before his sight, the beautifullest Lady that ever he beheld: who coming unto him, cast herself into his arms, desiring his protection against a fierce and ugly Giant, who pursued her. The Prince herewith awaking, began to ponder with himself, concerning his dream, musing what it might signify, but the beauty and comely grace of the Lady, stuck so fast in his memory, that by no means he could put the same out of his mind: which caused him in the end, to conclude, that it must needs be some Lady, whom the destinies had ordained him to love, determined to yield himself prisoner, before the assault should grow too hot: thus continued this amorous young Prince, entangled in her beauty whom he never had seen, minding to rest in no place, until such time as he had found her out, whom in his dream he beheld. By this time had they continued at Sea by the space of eight days, not meeting with any adventure worth the memory, having the wind fair, and the Seas so calm as might be, till on the ninth day coming almost on shore on the caost of France, they perceived a ship with sails and oars, as much as they could to make towards them: which the Master and the rest of the Sailors, presently knew to be a Pirate, and calling the Prince unto them, to know what counsel he would give in this extremity, they all being minded to yield, rather than to fight, considering the unequalness of the match, and the cruelty the Pirates commonly used to those, who made resistance. But the Prince not minding to submit himself into the hands of such villains, gave them counsel not to yield, but to fight it out to the last man, and calling for his Armour, immediately armed himself: swearing them all to perform their best endeavours, for to defend themselves.  
By this time was the Pirate come up with them, and warning them to yield unto his mercy, the Prince standing aloft upon the deck, with his sword drawn in his hand, & his shield upon his arm, replied, that they meant to defend themselves, as not being accustomed with words to be daunted. The Pirate Geroll hearing this answer, commanded to grapple with the English ship. The prince at the first encountering with a great lubber, who proffered to leap aboard their ship, gave him so sound a blow on the sconte, that it caused him out of the shrouds to tumble headlong into the Sea, and after him another, and another: so that in the part of the ship where he was, the fight began to grow exceeding hot, many of the pirates soldiers being gotten aboard, but by the help of his Squire, and the masters mate, who was a lusty fellow, they quickly cleared their ship again, and the Prince having received a wound by one of the Pirates, who was aboard their own ship, not knowing which way to be revenged, leapt forthwith into their ship, & being enraged, laid on such blows, that every one thought himself happiest when they were farthest from him: for by this time there were slain above twenty of the Pirates. Which Geroll perceiving, & knowing right well that if the Knight were slain, he should easily vanquish the rest: and hoping to perform it with his own hands, he came stealing behind him, but the Prince who was ordained to finish greater matters, perceiving his intent, turned his face towards him, giving him such a salutation with his sword, that it caused him to bend with one of his knees even to the deck.  
Now began between them two a most cruel Combat, the Pirate being a strong and lusty fellow, & one that had fought many dangerous battles, and also being aided by those of his party, assaulted the Prince with great fury, and were as gallantly by him resisted, to their no small prejudice: for within less than half an hour, he had slain six of them, wounding the rest very grievously. And by this time the English Ship, having tacked about, came to the rescue of the Prince, which so dismayed the Pirates, that being but ten of them left alive, and they for the most part hurt, as beforesaid, determined to entreat for mercy, and falling down upon their knees, besought the Prince with one voice to save their lives: which he easily yielded unto. And taking course for the safe custody of the ship, they having with great devotion given thanks unto almighty GOD for this so happy victory, which they had so luckily obtained without the loss of any one man, & dressing those that were hurt, with such salves and other needful things, whereof they found good store aboard the Pirate, they directed their course for Dover, where the next day they safely arrived: where the Prince, at the request of the Owner of the Ship, stayed by the space of three days, during which time, there arrived many of the Country people to behold him: for by this time was his fame spread abroad by the Mariners, to his great renown. And the Lieutenant that had the government of that Fort under the King of England, being then returned from certain affairs which he had to do, entertained him with the greatest honour that might be. To whom the Prince would not make himself known, but as a Knight arrant, minding to travel to the Court of the King of England, the fame whereof had brought him from his native Country.  
And now having rested himself by the space of ten days, for the curing of such wounds as he had received in the former conflict, and seeing the Pirates executed, according to the Laws of that Realm, determined to departed the next day towards London, where the King then kept his Court, having remained a long time in great pensiveness for the loss of his son Prince Edward.   

CHAP. X. how Jago coming to the English Court, took in hand the defence of a Lady falsely accused: and what happened thereof.  
THE Prince jago, having taken his leave of the Governor of Dover, took his way directly towards London, accompanied only with his Squire, unto whom for the more pleasant passing of the time, he recounted his dream, in a vision which he had seen at his coming out of Saxony. Thus passed they away their wearisome journey, till on the fourth day coming within five miles of the City, they heard one most pitifully weeping: and drawing somewhat near the same, there being a high bank between them and the voice which they heard, they stayed awhile to understand the cause of that lamentation. When suddenly they might hear the weeping cease, and the party to fetch a deep and grievous sigh, saying: Is it possible, that God will altogether forsake the distressed innocent, and suffer such great injustice, not raising up any one to help or secure their rightful cause against so evident a treason: O that it would please him to raise up another Daniel, to find out their accursed forgeries, and to free this his distressed Susanna, or that it would please his almighty power, to endue me with strength and courage, whereby I might force them to confess their most wrongful and false accusation, against the most virtuous Lady living: but alas, I see mine own forces, being a weak and feeble woman, too too far unable to accomplish the same, and the ears of the Almighty so stopped against my prayers, that he doth not hear them. But what do I mean, so much to blaspheme his holy Name, as to say he doth not hear, when alas it is our sins which causeth him not to grant what we require: or peradventure he may defer the same, to the greater setting forth of his glory: that when all hope is past, even than he may show his omnipotent power by some strange deliverance. Here again she paused.  
And jago mounting up the bank, perceived that she was a comely young Gentlewoman, whom he saluted, and being by her again resaluted, he demanded the cause of her grief, which by her complaint he imagined to be very great: assuring her withal, that if the matter were correspondent unto truth, and to be tried by dint of sword, she had met with one, who would willingly hazard his life in defence of the innocent. The Damsel hearing his kind proffer, and withal, viewing the comely proportion of his body, began somewhat to comfort herself, hoping that God had sent him of purpose, to defend the just cause of her distressed Lady, answered him. Most courteous and valiant Knight, for so much my mind doth assure you to be, I render you infinite thanks for this your kind & willing offer, hoping by the time you have heard my woeful narration, you will be thoroughly assured of the equity of the cause, which hath moved in me, & many more this sorrow, which even now you found in me, and the unjust and treacherous dealing, of the most disloiallest Knight that lives. Know then, that whilst this Court of England enjoyed their most vallerous Prince Don Edward, who now by the space of eighteen years hath continued imprisoned in an enchanted Castle in France, did flourish with many brave and hardy Knights, amongst whom there was a noble Gentleman, called the Lord Mowbray, a man for his virtue and valour greatly esteemed of all, but especially beloved by the Prince, with whom he went into France, where by his valour he won immortal fame: and after the loss of the Prince, hazarding himself for his deliverance, was likewise there taken prisoner. This Lord left behind him at his departure, a son and a daughter, his son being of the age of seven years, and his daughter called Beleriza, of the age of five years, both under the custody of their virtuous and noble Mother: who having brought them up in virtuous and godly living, until they were of ripe years, departed this world, leaving both her children unto their own governments: Beleriza had been of long time beloved & sued unto, by a gallant young Knight, named Francisco, whom she likewise entirely loved, yet minding to prove his loyalty, entreated him to go into France, to combat with the two Giants, Brandofell and Furioll, who kept the Enchanted Castle, where the Prince and her father, with divers other famous Knights were imprisoned. Francisco willing to have so fit occasion, both to pleasure his Lady and Mistress, and also to show forth his valour, which he thought even unmatchable, presently consented, promising to work wonders, and so fitting himself, departed towards France. But before his taking ship he wrote unto his Lady, as near as I can guess, these ensuing verses.  

Beleriza Goddess mine,  
Whose beauty Venus slaines,  
Whose only chaste virtuous mind,  
Solely Diana deigns.   

Thy Majesty not far unmeet,  
To stately jove his Queen:  
Thy pregnant wit to Pallas cake,  
Full rightly I do deem.   

Thou thou, I say, my heart hast bound  
In chains of servile love:  
My heart that erst full free I found,  
Inflamed is from above.   

Do thou o then vouchsafe my dear,  
To ease those fiery flames:  
By being constant unto him,  
That burn with those same flames.   

Then shall my vigour so increase,  
And arm grow so strong:  
That Brandofell and Furioll both,  
On ground I'll lay a long.   

And from Enchantment free I will,  
That noble Sire of thine,  
Together with our nature Prince,  
That there so long hath line.   
Yours if his own, Don Francisco.  
Having written these verses unto his Lady, he departed, what since hath happened unto him I do not know, but imagine he hath sped as ill as those, who heretofore have made trial of the same adventure. Now being departed, there was another gallant, which likewise fell in liking with my Lady Beleriza, one whom indeed the inheritance of my Lord their father, if they both happened to die without issue, of right did appertain. This gallant called signor Roberto, imagining that my Lord their father, and his kinsman was either dead, or never to be delivered, devised which way to assure himself of his possessions: and thinking if he could devise how to obtain my Lady to be his wife, the matter were in a manner assured, considering that her brother, whose name was likewise called Roberto, being a man of a valiant and haughty mind, would hazard himself in the adventure of the Enchanted Castle, wherein he did not doubt, but that he would be either slain, or taken prisoner, and then of right it should appertain unto him. And being resolved hereon, he used all the means he could to obtain her liking. But she having settled her affection, as is before said, on Don Francisco, made small or no account him: which he perceiving, turned all his feigned love into hatred, devising which way to bring to pass by treachery, that which he could not hope for by the love of my Lady, which in the end he thus brought to pass.  
Having many times animated his Cousin Don Roberto, to hazard himself for the delivery of my Lord his father, which the young Gentleman himself, had a great desire unto, and now having taken the order of Knighthood, and made preparation for his journey into France: and being accompanied the Seaside, through which he must needs pass, was at unwares set on by a couple of villains, and before he could draw his sword, was by them slain: his Squire flying away, with in less than a mile, met with this grand homicide, his masters kinsman, unto whom he recounted the murder of his Master.  
Don Roberto hearing this, making as if he had grieved thereat mightily, raising the Country to apprehend those murderers, the one of them taking a River, hoping thereby to escape, was drowned therein: the other being taken, was known to be a servant to the traitor Don Roberto, who coming where he was, after he had privately talked with him, and instructed him what he should say, examined him openly, where the villain most falsely avouched, that they were hired to commit this murder, by my Lady Beleriza, which he no sooner had confessed, but Don Roberto, fearing lest the fear of death should make him in the end to confess the truth, with his poniard suddenly stabbed him to the heart. Then posting to the Court, he caused my Lady to be apprehended, accusing her before the King of the murder of her brother, which alas, was more grievious unto her, than the sentence of her own death, which presently by the King was pronounced against her: if that within twelve months she were not provided of a Knight, who in combat with Don Roberto, should maintain her innocency. And now there is not passing ten days to come of the prefixed time, she good Lady not having any one, who will hazard himself for her deliverance, although she is greatly pitied of every one: yet so much is the number of good and hardy Knights in this Kingdom abated, by the occasion of the Prince's loss, that there is scarce any one thought able to match the traitor in single fight. Lo here most noble Knight, have I as near as I can, declared unto you the truth: hoping that God will so guide your mind, as to undertake the defence, of the most virtuous and sorrowful Beleriza.  
The Prince jago, having attentively listened unto her whole discourse, by which he assured himself of the innocency of the Lady, bade her recomfort herself, for if at his arrival at the Court, by inquiry he should find the matter to be as she had declared, he would, if Beleriza would accept of him as her Champion, hazard his body for her defence, not doubting but to make her accuser confess his treason against her. Thus taking the Damsel with him, they road towards the City, where they arrived a little before night: The next day having rested himself, and viewed the stateliness of the City, which to him seemed the goodliest that ever he beheld, he did what he might to inquire, the truth of the Lady's imprisonment: where by divers he was informed in the same, even as the Damsel had declared unto him. Thus having stayed some four or five days in the City, being continually visited by the Damsel, and now being thoroughly resolved of the innocency of her Lady, was desirous to see her, & to know whether she would accept of him as her Champion. And being by the Damsel conveyed unto the place where she remained imprisoned, he was by her most kindly welcomed, giving him a thousand thanks for his proffered kindness, by her not any ways deserved, and admitting him for her Champion, she said. Noble Knight, I here freely deliver unto you, the defence both of my life and honour, desiring God no other way to speed you, then according to the truth and equity of my cause, which he knows best: assuring you farther, that the death of my brother for which I am accused, is more grievious unto me, than any torment I can endure. It is true replied the prince, every virtuous wight, regardeth more the loss of their friends, then of themselves, and I believe the same of you: wherefore I do not doubt, but to your eternal fame, I shall make manifest your innocency. Thus departed he away, making preparation against the battle: what happened therein, you shall read in the Chapter following.   

CHAP. XI. How the Prince jago fought with Roberto, and caused him to confess his treason against Beleriza.  
THe day being come in which the beautiful Beleriza. was either to present her Champion, or suffer death, for the surmised murder of her brother. The King with divers of his Nobles, being already placed on their scaffold to behold the battle: the prisoner was brought fourth attired all in black, having a far white  cast over he head, being accompanied with many beautiful Ladies of the Court, attired also in mourning apparel, bewailing her misfortune: thus was she conducted unto a scaffold appointed for her, after her came the Appelant, mounted on a stately bay courser, all in tawny armour, as sorrowing for the death of his kinsman. And coming before the King, bending himself in his Saddle, as doing obedience to his Majesty, spoke as followeth. Most dread Sovereign, I humbly beseech you to cause that detestable murderer, either presently to bring forth her Champion, if she be of any one provided, whom I may forthwith, to the manifestation of her crime overcome, or if she be not provided, that then according to the law she be forthwith executed.  
The King disliking this is presumption, as also greatly affecting Beleriza, for her father's sake, said. signor Roberto, I know not whether the prisoner be prepared of a Champion or no, but your presumptuous boldness, in going about to teach me what I have to do, causeth me think that your great pride will soon take a fall, for you might well have stayed your haste, until I had caused the trumpets, according to the use of Arms, to summon the defendant: and then if he had not come forth at the third summons, you might boldly have demanded justice.  
Then staying a while, the trumpets were willed to sound to warn the defendant, who forthwith being mounted on a milk white Steed, his Armour all green, beset with Cowslips of gold, and bearing in his shield in an Azure field a beautiful Lady, with his word in letters of gold, Vbi nescio: representing thereby, the Lady whom he saw in his dream. In this manner entered he the Lists, and trotting with a comely soft pace towards the King, with his Beaver lifted up, to whom he did reverence, demanding which was the Knight, who had so falsely accused the sorrowful Lady. The King beholding his comely grace, and perceiving by his speech that he was a stranger, most courtiously, showed him signor Roberto: unto whom jago spoke as followeth.  
Sir Knight, I do not a little marvel, how you being a man honourably descended, could harbour so base and vild a thought, as to accuse this Lady your kinswoman, of a murder wherein yourself seemeth to be an Actor, otherwise you would not so suddenly have killed that wicked homicide your servant, but have suffered him to have lived, and openly to have confessed that, which you in your conscience did greatly fear he would deny: but I doubt not but God, by my arm, will manifest that, which by his death you did hope to have concealed. Roberto raising himself in his stirrups, and raging to be so touched with the truth, and trusting in his own might and force, replied in this manner.  
Foolhardy Knight, thou shalt soon know what thy folly hath gained, by being alured with her looks to hazard thy life in a cause so unjust as this is which thou dost defend, and how far thy false and opprobrious speeches hath incensed my choler against thee, that when as recreant thou shalt ask mercy, in steed thereof thou shalt receive cruel death. The King hearing these proud speeches, commanded the judges of the field to take the oaths of both knights, than the trumpets sounding, warned them to prepare to the battle. Thus being by the judges placed in the lists, having wind and sun equally distributed unto them, they set spurs to their horses, & placing their Lances in their rests, they met together with such fury, that breaking their staves to their hands, Roberto was thrown from his horse, and the Prince having likewise lost one of his stirrups, passed on without any great semblance of moving: and coming to the end of his course, turning about his horse, he saw signor Roberto addressing himself for the foot combat: which he no sooner perceived, but alighting from his horse, & drawing forth his sword, went to meet him, where between them began a most cruel and doubtful combat, no man knowing to which party victory was like to ensue, Don Roberto being a very strong and mighty Knight, laid on blows amain, as trusting in his great strength, which surely was much, and had he been endued as well with virtue as valour, he might well have been esteemed for one of the best Knights in England.  
Don jago, on the other side, being very nimble & quick of body, although not altogether so strong as his enemy, avoided his blows with very great skill, many times wounding his adversary, both with thrusts and blows, himself sometimes receiving wounds likewise: so that the ground was besprinkled with their blood, which issued out in many places through their Armour. Thus continued they by the space of one whole hour, never so much as once taking breath, by which time their Armour was broken in many places, especially that of the Prince jago, which being not altogether of the best, though gallant to the eye, was broken the sooner with his huge blows: although on the contrary side, Roberto had received more great & dangerous wounds, through the thrusts which the Prince had made. And now being both breathless, they rested themselves awhile, viewing each other, and studying which way most how to endamage his adversary. At length, they having well rested themselves, they fell to their combat afresh, the Prince Iago seeming more lusty and quick then at the beginning, began now to follow his adversary with many mighty blows and sharp thrusts, causing him in a manner, nothing but to defend himself: and imagining indeed that he was not long able to continue, very unadvisedly pursued him with blows and thrusts, not having any regard to defend himself, but to offend his foe. Which Roberto perceiving, gave him so cruel a blow on the right side, that piercing his Armour, which was not of sufficient force to defend the might of his arm, wounded him to the bone: which the Prince feeling, and considering that it came by his rash carelessness, determined to have a greater regard to himself: & following his fortune with good advisement, gave Don Roberto to understand, that the blow was to him a good school point, so that at length having driven him from place to place, being no longer able to withstand his force, having lost great abundance of blood, he fell on his knees, desiring him to save his life, and he would confess the whole truth.  
The Prince hereunto soon granted, and bringing him before the King, Roberto confessed, first how he had devised to come unto the inhearitance of the Lord Mowbray his kinsman, by marrying with his daughter, and afterwards being by her refused, how he had devised this means, as in the former Chapter is declared. Which when the King with the rest of the Lords there present had heard, they did not a little marvel hereat: and presently causing the Lady Beleriza to be fet, and greatly honoured, extolling the strange Knight highly, the King demanded of Beleriza of whence and what he was: to which she answered that she knew not. Then the King demanded of himself of what Country he was. And he very courteously answered him, that he was borne in the Dukedom of Saxony, and having given his mind to travel, was commonly called the Knight of Fortune: and now happening to arrive to this Country, and coming to view this Court, the stateliness whereof he had many times before heard of, was by chance given to understand, the wrong which was done unto Beleriza by her Cousin Don Roberto, and considering that it is the part of all Knights to defend the innocent, especially Ladies and Gentlewomen, who are not able to defend themselves, I undertook the same, which by the assistance of the Almighty I have accomplished.  
The King hearing this his speech, which he uttered with a most comely grace, greatly commended him in his heart: and giving charge unto his Surgeons for the curing of his wounds, whereof he had great need, he determined to proceed in judgement against signor Roberto. But he by this time, through the many grievous and mortal wounds which he had received, had given up the ghost: whereby he prevented the King of inflicting the punishment which he worthily deserved, and which assuredly, if he had lived, he should have suffered. But now seeing he was already dead, the King commanded him to be buried in the same place where the battle was fought, causing him to be laid for the honour of the House, from whence he was descended, in a Tomb of Marble, very curiously wrought, with this Epitaph written thereon.  

Hear lies Don Roberto murderer wild,  
a Knight by birth of high dissent,  
Who for the hope of gaining this world's pelf,  
his kinsman he most vildly slew,  
And for the same a courteous noble Dame  
his sister dear he did accuse:  
But now at last, jove pitying her estate,  
and loathing cake so vild a deed,  
For which the earth did vengeance crave,  
as when first murder did befall,  
Heaven sent this murderer vild for to confound,  
the Knight of Fortune called by Fame.   
The King being come unto the Court, cause the Lady to be restored unto all such things, as during her imprisonment had been detained from her, greatly honouring her for her virtue, which by this her former troubles did more clearly appear. Also he entertained the Knight of Fortune, with the greatest courtesy that might be, visiting him continually each day, during the time that his wounds were curing: Where we will leave him for a while, to declare what happened unto the noble Prince Euordanus, whom we left in the Kingdom of Ireland, going to combat with Adresto.   

CHAP. XII. How the Knight of the Lions departing from the Castle of Molenda, arrived at Dublin, where he fought with Adresto.  
THE Knight of the Lions, having awhile remained at the Castle of Molenda, to rest himself and his company, departed towards Dublin, whereby the good conduct of his servant Gillimo, having past many woods, Mountains and Bogs, he arrived the next day following a little before night at Dublin, and taking up his lodging in an honest Burgesses house of the Town, was by the owner thereof well entertained: and making inquiry, was given to understand the great prowess of Adresto, daily showed on those Knights that came to try themselves against him, whereof there had been very few who ever had the honour to Combat with him, such good fortune had he always following him in his justs.  
Which the Knight of the lions understanding, and fearing the weariness of his horse might be to him some loss of honour, determined to rest himself a day or two, in which he wrote unto hime this letter following.  
To the disloyal and false forsworn Knight, signor Adresto.  
MOst false and disloyal Adresto, I cannot a little admire, that thou being a man of such inestimable valour, as by fame thou art reported to be, canst so far dispense with thy conscience, (as setting at nought all thy forepast vows and oaths, made unto the most virtuous, and excellent Princess the Duchess Lenarda, whom in truth thou art not worthy so much as to serve,) dost notwithstanding all those graces and favours, which she hath bestowed upon thee, most falsely forsake her, and leaving her to bewail thy untruth, dost here solace thyself in the company of a wild courtesan. Let me admonish thee, to give over this thy lewd kind of life, and return to her who languisheth in thy love, or else if thou wilt not, I defy thee unto mortal battle, in which I doubt not but to make thee confess thy disloyalty: return me thy answer by this bearer, by which I may know thy mind: farewell.  
Thy friend or foe by thy choice, the Knight of the Lions.  
This letter being delivered unto Adresto, by Gillimo, put him into an exceeding chafe at the first, but afterwards duly considering the contents thereof, it something mitigated his choler, and calling for pen & ink, he wrote back this answer.  
To his unknown foe the Knight of the Lions.  
THy proud and arrogant revilings, wherewith thou beginnest thy letter, causeth me the less to regard thy defiance, which in the end thou pronouncest against me: considering that such words most commonly proceed from effeminate persons, who can do nothing but rail, of which number I do think thee to be one. ●●s for the matter contained in thy letter, touching my unfaithful dealing with the Duchess Lenarda, my sword and Lance shall answer for me: and likewise give she to understand, if that to morrow in the morning, then dare meet me in the Lists, how much thy overweening folly hath desceaved thee: farewell.  
Thy undoubted enemy Don Adresto.  
The next day, no sooner had beautiful Aurora, rolling herself out of old Nox his couch, stepped forth into the view of this world, being rayed in her wont garments of grey, and as it were half blushing to have remained so long, in the loutish arms of her late old bedfellowe, went to welcome her new Bridegroom the son, but our two noble Knights being mounted on their stately Stéeds, and armed at all points, entered the Lists: scarce deigning one to speak to the other. And now having fetched their career, met together with such force, that their Lances were broken into a thousand shivers, the splinters thereof flying into the air, themselves both passing on without any motion of moving in their Saddles: and having ended their course, and turning about their horses, Adresto entreated the Knight of the Lions, to break a staff or two more, until such time as one of them were dismounted, to which he willingly agreed: and at the commandment of Adresto, there was a bundle of Lances brought, the Knight being willed to choose first.  
Then running again, they encountered with such force, that Adresto losing both his stirrups, was likewise forced to take hold by his horse mane, the other being in the same sort driven to take hold, having lost his right stirrup, & she reins of his bridle, yet passed they both onwards, and coming to the end of their course, took new Lances, each confessing to himself, never to have received the like encounter: and then setting their spurs the third time to their horses, Adresto used these or such like speeches to himself: Fie, fie, Adresto, what is become of thy former valour, which wast wont to send every one with whom thou incountredst, to take measure of his length on the ground: is thy strength grown weaker than it hath been, or doth thy conscience accusing thee of disloyalty towards Lenarda, cause thy force to diminish: no, it is neither, but only the valour of this Knight, with whom thou dost contend. On the otherside, the Knight of the Lions calling to his mind his beloved Lady the Princess Egisena, said: Dear Lady, see here thy feeble Knight, as it were mated by this false Adresto, nay, only the fear of your dislike, is the cause that he hath been able to endure against me: but I beseech you call to mind your former kindnesses, and confirm the same with your constant assurance, and then I doubt not but to be well able to vanquish this Knight, whom for his valour I cannot choose but love.  
These speeches on both sides were scarce ended, when meeting together, they broke their staves hard home to their Gauntlets, and meeting with their bodies, they rushed together in such sort, that their horses had much to do to stand under them, but were forced to ramble backwards, but at length, having recovered themselves, the Knights being both wearied with their rough encounters, not minding any more to Just, drew forth their swords, and preparing themselves to the Combat, the Knight of the Lions was the first that assailed his adversary: and tutching his horse with his left spur, came close with Adresto, delivering him such a blow on the shield, that slyeing away a great part thereof, wounded him a little on the left thigh: which Don Adresto, soon requited, for coming in with his left side, and making as if he would have given a thrust at his body, suddenly by the agility and quickness of his horse, he was on the other side of him, and delivered a full blow at his head, taking him so sound a knock, that had it not been for the goodness of his Armour, he had then ended the battle: but the Armour being of approved goodness saved his Master from any hurt, although the weight thereof did half a stony him, but coming soon to his memory, & raising himself in his stirrupps, he gave Adresto a mighty blow, which had he not warded with his shield, had assuredly clave him to the teeth, for notwithstanding, the goodness of the shield, which was of pure & well tempered steel: he clave it in the midst, and entering through both Helm and coif, wounded him in the head, to the great astonishment of his senses. Thus continued they a great while with equal odds, not one knowing which had the a vantage: for although Adresto had received many wounds, yet the virtue of the King which he wear on his finger was such, that he lost not one drop of blood: Thus having continued by the space of two hours, at last the Knight of the Lions, having given him a mighty blow on the head, which caused him as one in a trance to reel on his horse, and before such time as he could recover himself, having delivered another blow between his head & shoulders, caused him to fall from his horse in a trance, which the Knight of the Lions perceiving, immediately dismounted, thinking to have taken off his Helm, and to have given him air, but before he could come unto him, Adresto had recovered his feet, and taking up his sword, which hung by a small chain fastened unto his arm, said: Knight of the Lions, I had thought before this time there had not been any Knight able to match me on horseback, but now I find myself deceived: wherefore I suppose thou mayst thank thine Armourer, which hath so well fitted thee, but I doubt not now being on foot, to deal with you some what better. It is well said, answered the other, and were not my cause more just than thine, I should greatly fear me of the victory: but considering the wrong which thou dost unto that virtuous Lady Lenarda, it causeth me to hope the best: wherefore once more let me entreat thee to consent to return unto her. Nay, answered Adresto, I both defy thy entreats, and her love, and therefore defend thyself. Then again hurled they together more fiercely then at the first, but not with like advantage, for Adresto before was greatly aided by the quickness of his horse: and now being on foot, although he were very quick and nimble, yet the pain which he sustained by his wounds were a great hindrance unto him. On the contrary side, the Knight of the Lions, being before on the back of a horse daily used to travel, was not altogether of the quickest, but now being on foot, and in his chief prime, not having received any wound, was far more quick than his adversary, by which means he both saved himself, and hurt his enemy even at pleasure. And at length, taking Adresto at advantage, gave him a sound blow on the side of the head, which caused him so ramble, and before he could recover himself, gave him one or two more, so that he was forced in a trance to fall to the earth: which the Knight perceiving, stepped unto him, and before he would give him air, took of his gauntlet, and then finding the ring, took it from his finger: and unlacing his Helm, he soon brought him to himself, and perceiving him to offer to rise, said, Adresto yield thyself, and promise to forsake this wicked kind of life, and to go into Spain to the Duchess Lenarda, or else thou diest.  
Adresto being thoroughly come to himself, and hearing the name of Lenardo, began to call to mind his former love towards her, and in a manner clean forgetting the Merchant's daughter, said. Most noble Knight, I do not only yield myself unto your mercy, but also willingly will do as you command me, where I will yield me to the noble Duchess mercy: whom I must needs confess, greatly to have wronged. The Knight of the Lions immediately taking him up from the ground, embraced him in his arms, saying: that if he did as he had promised, he should do right well, and in so doing, he should find him for ever an assured friend. For which Adresto gave him infinite thanks, vowing to him the like.  
Now by this time was the Lady Lenardas' Squire come unto them, and saluting Adresto, demanded how he did, Adresto beholding him, immediately knew him, and embracing him in his arms, demanded how his Lady fared, to whom the Squire declared, the great sorrow wherein she had remained ever since his departure. And now having bound up the wounds which he had received in the combat as well as they could, (for as soon as the King was taken from his finger, his wounds fell on bleeding) they returned into the City, where they remained by the space of three weeks, for the curing of his wounds, and providing all things necessary for their departure. Then taking leave of the fair Damsel whom he left with child, and the rest of his acquaintance, they departed towards the City of Waterford, where they were in hope to find the ship in which the Knight of the lions had there arrived, leaving all Dublin sorry for his departure.   

CHAP. XIII. How the Knight of the Lions traveling towards Waterford in the company of Adresto, was like to have been murdered, by the means of the Damsel of Dublin, and by what means he was preserved.  
THE Knight of the Lions, being accompanied with Adresto, and his Squires, road on so far the first day, that they arrived in a small village some 15 leagues from Dublin where was only one Castle, and some few cottages, in which Castle there dwelled a Knight that was some kin unto the Damsel, which was so entirely beloved of Adresto: and here the Knights minding to rest themselves for that night, were welcomed and entertained by the Lord of the Castle, called Mack Gillum, with the greatest show of kindness that might be, the more secretly to conceal the evil which he intended in his heart, (as it is for the most part the common use of those Country people, which will not stick to laugh you in the face, and presently to cut your throat:) even so dealt this Traitor, who having received into his house as gests these two notable Knights, binding them welcome with a judas kiss, and feasting them with all the delica's that the shortness of the time could afford, yet his enueterate malice towards the Knight of the Lions, for carrying away Don Adresto from his Cousin, was such, that notwithstanding all the former courtesies which he showed him, minded in the end to rob him of his life: which he thought to bring to pass in his sort.  
There was under one of the fairest Chambers in the Castle, a dark and deep vault, having no way into the same but by a trappe-doore out of the foresaid Chamber, over which he caused a bed to be made for the Knight, and having placed two or three villains in the vault, with charge to murder him, caused in steed of ropes, nothing but small sticks to be laid under the bed, which might sustain the weight thereof: so that the Knight once laying him down thereon, must of force tumble headlong into the vault, where the villains being ready to receive him, should soon have ended his life: had not GOD otherwise provided for his safety, and appointed him to a farther setting forth of his glory, and thus it was. His servant Gillimo, whose life he saved, when as he slew the rest of his company, the night before he rescued Molenda, and of a thief entertained him to be his servant: he I say, contrary to the common use of such fellows, who according to the old saying, (Save a thief from the gallows, and he will be the first that will cut thy throat) having an especial love and care unto his Master, as thinking that time ill spent, which was not to his profit or content, & that in doing the same he did God good service, was always very careful and diligent about him, especially, where he did any way suspect evil to be meant towards him: but now more than at any other time, knowing the wickedness of Mack Gillum, he listened and prided about, to see if he could perceive them whisper amongst themselves. A little after supper, coming suddenly into a dark entry, he heard some talking, and listening a while unto them: one of them said: Well, & my Master and they above, do their part kindly, in causing the bed to fall, this dagger shall pierce his heart, far sooner than Adrestos sword could pierce his Armour. Nay replied another, I will surely give him the first wound, for robbing Valeria of her Lover. Gillimo hearing this knew presently that it was his Master whom they meant, wherefore diligently noting the place, he returned safely into the room where he left his Master, and finding them ready to go to their Chamber, he could not conveniently make it known.  
Now Mack Gillum having called for lights, willed his wife and two of his daughters, to accompany Adresto unto his chamber, and he himself would accompany the Knight of the Lions unto his (where he hoped ere long to be sufficiently revenged, for the wrong which he had done unto his Cousin.) Thus having brought him to his chamber, he continued discoursing of many matters, until he was almost unready, then bidding him good night, he went towards the door to have gone forth, and coming somewhat near the bed: on a sudden Gillimo stepped unto him, and before he was ware thereof, took him in his arms, and by clean force threw him into the midst of the bed: from whence immediately the sticks breaking, he tumbled headlong into the Vault, where he was presently slabde to death by the villains, which he had prepared to have killed the Knight of the Lions: so that the saying of the Scripture in him was rightly fulfilled, he hath laid a snare for another, and himself is fallen into the mischief thereof.  
The Knight of the Lions, & the rest of them that were in the chamber, at the first were greatly astonished hereat: but seeing the sequel, and considering that it was devised of purpose for to have murdered him, fell on their knees, and gave thanks unto almighty God, who had delivered him, out of this imminent danger of death. Then calling for his Armour, he forthwith armed himself, and giving Gillimo thanks for his good service, willed him to tell by what means he came to the knowledge of this treason: to whom Gillimo declared the form before recited. Then went he up and down the Castle, killing such as he thought any way culpable in the same: and coming into the chamber where Adresto was, in the company of the Lady and her daughters, who by this time had heard of all that which was happened, they came and fell down at his feet pitifully weeping, beseeching him to have compassion of them, and not to revenge the fault committed by one, upon them all, assuring him they were not any way privy to the which had happened. The Knight, partly through compassion, which he always bare towards Ladies and Damsels, and partly at the entreaty of Adresto, whom had he not entirely loved, he should likewise have suspected to be consenting to this treason, willed them to stand up, and warning them ever hereafter, for attempting the like treason against any one, he forgave them: then taking order for their safety that night, they betook them to their rests, where they slept sound until the next day: when taking their leave of the Lady and her daughters, whom they left busy in burying of the dead bodies, they departed onwards on their journey towards Waterford, where within two days they safely arrived, not having met with any adventure worth the reciting: & coming to the Harbour, they found the Bark in a readiness, all the company earnestly expecting his coming. Where we will for a while leave them, looking for a wind for Spain.   

CHAP. XIIII. How the Scottish King sent over into Denmark, under the conduct of his Cousin the Earl of Douglasse, ten thousand Soldiers, and how the Archbishop and the other Traitors, joined their forces with him.  
YOu may remember how in the former part of this History, that the Archbishop of Maiance, the Count Hermes, and others of the chief states of Denmark, disliking the government, whereof themselves were in a manner the chief and first beginners, had practised with the Scottish King, for the sending over forces, promising to deliver the Kingdom of Denmark into his hands, and farther, to that end had delivered pledges for sure performance thereof.  
Now therefore the King of Scots, having mustered up his forces, made choice of ten thousand of his approved and best men of Arms, and having fitted them of all things needful for that war, gave them in charge unto his kinsman the Earl of Douglasse: a man for his valour and courage highly to be commended, and for his wisdom and policy, to be compared with most in Christendom: as having great experience, especially in matters of affairs, wherein he had spent the greatest part of his time, being now about the age of forty eight or fifty years: unto him did the King deliver this Army, with free commission to dispose thereof, & of the whole affairs of Denmark. With this Army he departed towards the Sea-coast, accompanied with many brave and hardy Knights who vollentary went to bear him company, with hope in these wars to gain same by their valour: and being come to the town of Helfue, they took shipping, and the wind serving them, they directed their course towards Denmark, having before hand sent intelligence of their coming, unto the traitors to their Country, their confedrats, who likewise upon this news, used all the diligence they could, for the levying of their forces to join with the foreign power: causing Libels, and other means to be wrote, to seduce others likewise from their loyalty towards their Governors and Country, and to fall into the same treason with them. Of which sort there were a great many, who for divers causes were soon drawn into the same, especially such as by any means had offended the laws, and feared the penalty thereof: which by the Governors was severely executed.  
Who now upon this rumour and hurly burly, were not a little troubled, and perceiving such great men to be actors herein, feared a general revolt, wherefore drawing themselves together into counsel, they devised all the means they could, to prevent the same: and having sent unto the Arch Bishop and his complices, by fair means to have caused them to lay down their weapons, and not like madmen as it were to rip their own bowels, which they must needs do in stirring up this civil contention, which is the greatest enemy that possible may happen to any commonwealth, and that in calling in foreign powers, was not only to bring into bondage their Country, and native soil, but also themselves and their whole posterity: for what Conqueror is there, that having brought into subjection any Kingdom or Province, will not cause his own laws & customs to be embraced by the vanquished, which he cannot well do, except first he not only root out those, whom he thinks may be any way a hindrance unto his proceedings, then likewise must he place as Governors and Rulers over his people, such as he shall think readiest to obey and fulfil his commandments, which can be no other but of his own native Country: and then how grievous it will be unto you to be commanded by strangers, do but consider. But peradventure you will say, that the King of Scots hath promised, not only to continue you in your former estates, but also prefer you to higher dignities, and you will rely upon his royal promise. Consider we beseech you, how that he, nor no man living whatsoever he be hath any term or assurance of his life in this world, and that though he keep his promise with you, yet your felicity is of no longer assurance than his life: but suppose he should live a long time, know you not, that he that by ambition gaineth a Crown, no sooner cometh to the possessions thereof, but he presently cutteth down the prope, by which himself did climb thereunto, fearing by the same likewise to fall as he did rise.  
This, or the like exhortation, the Governors at the first used towards the rebellious Traitors, which could nothing at all move them to give over their pretended treachery: and then seeing there was no way, but by force to withstand their fury, knowing also that the Scottish forces were on the coast, and daily expected to land, they took order forthwith for the levying of forces, placing new and great supplies in their garrison Towns, furnishing them both with munition and victuals, as well as the shortness of the time would permit them. And now having gathered togethers thirty thousand soldiers, the greatest part whereof were men taken from the Blow and Cart, fit with the sharp Colter to tear up the ground, then with sword and spear to encounter with the enemy in the field, and their Leaders most of them as unskilful as their soldiers, knowing how better to dance a galliard or a Pavine in a Lady's Chamber, then to marshal a band of men ready to encounter their enemies: so much had the lack of use of Arms, since the loss of their King, altered that flourishing kingdom, which in former time did greatly abound with many stout & hardy Knights, a great number whereof were either dead or lost in the search of their King. The one half of which Army being given in charge unto the Lords of Opencade & Londen, marched towards the Archbishop and his confederates, who with the number of 12 or 14. thousand soldiers, being on the other side the river of Estate, began to spoil and sack the Country, putting to sword, all those that made any resistance against them, and having taken Cargue and Londen, two Towns of great strength, placed therein garrisons, then marching towards Opencade, they heard of the coming of the Lords of Opencade & Londen, and fearing to be taken at advantage, they altered their course towards Rensborge, where the Earl Douglas with his forces was landed, hoping to join with him: which the Lords of Opencade & Londen understanding, pursued him so eagerly, that being come within sight almost of the Scots, they set upon their rearward, putting a great number of them to the sword: and even at the same instant, was the other Army, which which was led by the Lord Itsenho, and the County of Mildrop, likewise come in sight, which caused a great fear in the hearts of the Traitors, so that had it not been for a company of two thousand Scots, which came to their rescue under the conduct of Sir james Lewrence, Cousin german unto the Earl, they had been all either slain, or put to flight: but the coming of this succour, so animated their almost fainting courages, that, where before they were in a manner ready to turn their backs, they now began to recover their ground that they had lost, the fight growing very hot and bloody on both sides, there being slain of the States above a thousand soldiers, and of the Rebels 800.  
Longer had the fight continued, but that the Lord Harding, and the Count Hermes, fearing the coming of the other power, which was hard at hand, caused the retreat to be sounded, and so with an easy pace marched to the Scottish Camp, not minding if they could choose, to fight in two or three days, because of the weariness of his soldiers, who coming newly from Sea, were many of them distempered. The States likewise, having joined both their Armies, entrenched themselves: thus lay they by the space of seven days, within view of each other, daily skirmishing together, in which the States always had the worst, through their unskilfulness in martial discipline, where we will for a while leave them, and return to speak of other matters.   

CHAP. XV. How the Prince jago naming himself the Knight of Fortune, departed out of England, and arriving in France, travailing through the Forest of Towers, he delivered a Lady from a mighty Giant.  
PRince jago, having delivered the Lady Beleriza, naming himself the Knight of Fortune, was greatly honoured in the English Court, where at the entreaty of the King, he stayed by the space of a month, where daily he heard many strange reports of the Enchanted Castle in the Kingdom of France, and being desirous to try the adventure thereof, his Squire giving him to understand that there was a ship ready bound for the River of Nainse, determined to pass over therein: wherefore taking his leave of the King and Queen, and others who had showed him great honour during his abode in England, the Lady Beleriza having made him many large proffers, for the unspeakable kindness which she had received at his hands, all which he refused: but because he would not show himself altogether discourteous, he received a fair Diamond, which he promised always for her sake to wear upon his finger. And now having provided all such things as he had need of, and agreeing with the Master of the ship for his passage, he went aboard, and having the wind fair, they set to Sea in so happy a time, that within six days, they arrived at a Port called Old-bay, where going on shore, they directed their course towards the City of Nanse, where, he staying awhile to rest himself, he understood that the Queen, with a great train of Lords & Ladies, were lately arrived at the City of Towels, whether, because it lay not much out of his way, he determined to travel to see the fashion of the French Court, which then flourished with noble Dames, among whom was the Princess Emilia, and her fair daughter Oliva, whom as before we have said, was begotten by the famous Prince Edward, her betrothed husband, the night before he departed towards the enchanted Castle, together with a goodly son called Hendritio: both which Children, were very carefully educated by the good King Carolus their grandfather. And being now come unto the age of sixteen years, the young Hendritio was exercised in riding of horses, & running at tilt, wherein he showed himself not any way unlike to the noble Prince his Father, having a great desire to be knighted, which by no means his Grandfather would permit, fearing lest he would hazard himself in that adventure, whereof there had so many failed.  
The Princess Oliva in like sort, being of most singular and rare beauty, could scarce be suffered to be once out of the sight of her Grand mother, who loved her more than any of her own Children: and being now as we have said, at the City of Towers, (the Queen partly for her own content, but chiefly for to delight the Princess Emilia her Daughter, who continually since the loss of the English Prince, had spent her time in great sorrow, only the comfort which she had in her children, did a little mitigate the same) did daily use to ride forth on hunting, into the forest which was even hard adjoining to the City, in which forest, there was great store of all manner of wild Beasts. And being the same day that the Knight of Fortune was coming to the Court, gone forth very early, the Huntsmen had roused a mighty Hart, which making way before the hounds, caused all the Lords and Ladies to follow after, and galloping very swiftly through the Forest, had quickly separated themselves into many companies, so that with the Queen there was left no more but the Princess Oliva, and two or three other Ladies, and some three or four Knights, when suddenly a mighty great Giant, all armed, issued out from the thickest of the wood, and with a marvelous fierce countenance came towards them, to the great astonishment of the Queen & the other Ladies, who began to fly as fast as their horses could carry them. One of the Knights that was with the Queen, being more hardy than his fellows, stayed to make resistance whilst the others escaped: but alas, small was the defence which he could make being unarmed, against so mighty a foe, whose huge Armour he was not able to pierce, although thereon he broke his boarspear which he had in his hand all to shivers: and drawing out his sword to try if that would do any better, before he could deliver any stroke there with, was himself cloven to the middle. And leaving him there, the Giant pursued the others, which by this time had gained a great way before him: and coming into a rough stony way, the horse whereon the Princess Oliva road stumbled and fell to the ground, not being able to recover again. Which she perceiving, began to fly on foot, whereby in short space, the Giant had gained a great deal of ground of her, so that within less than a quarter of a mile he must needs have overtaken her, had not the Knight of Fortune, (being as is aforesaid, riding towards the City Towers) happened to arrive: who at the first seeing a far of one running so fast, was presently touched with the remembrance of his former vision: and calling to his Squire, put on his Helmet, and taking his Lance in his hand, road towards them, when presently the Lady (being clean wearied and out of breath) cast herself down before him, not being able to speak a word.  
The Knight viewing her singular beauty, knew presently that it was the same Lady whom in his fancy he had vowed to serve: wherefore encouraging himself, thinking that now was the time, if ever, to show himself valorous, being in her presence, and in her cause, for whose sake he could endure a thousand deaths, spoke unto her in this manner. Most beautiful Lady, comfort yourself, and fear not this huge lump of flesh which hath pursued you, for I doubt not, but God will so strengthen mine arm, as I shall soon be able to make him confess his folly, in going about to wrong so heavenly a creature. Then setting spurs to his horse, he ran against the Giant, who by this time was come almost unto them, and hitting him full in the midst of the massy shield which he wore, hanging by a stirrup about his neck, gave him such a blow, that piercing the same, he caused him to ramble backwards, being hardly able to stand upon his legs, breaking his Lance all to pieces. Thus having ended his course, he turned about, and fearing that in fight on horseback, he might be in great danger if the Giant should kill his horse, he alighted, and dressing his Shield on his arm, he drew forth his sword, going boldly to meet his huge enemy: who having recovered himself of the encounter, likewise went towards the Knight, with a mighty Scimitar in his hand, thinking at the first blow to have cleft him in two. But he being wary, easily avoided the same, by shifting his body aside, the Giant having missed his blow, was not able to recover his Scimitar so lightly, (which was entered almost a foot into the ground) but that the Knight taking the advantage thereof, gave him a sore blow on the left arm, almost at the shoulder, which piercing his thick Armour cut him to the bone, the grief whereof was such, that he could not afterwards rule his massy targe so well as otherwise he would, by which means he had great advantage: for now the Giant being forced to lay on, and only to trust to his sword both for offence and defence, many times received wound upon wound: sometimes likewise fastening blows on his adversary, he would cause him to bend his knees to the ground, renting his Armour where he touched, and causing the blood to issue out thereof in many places. Thus continued they a long time, the advantage, if there were any, remaining with the Knight of Fortune.  
By this time had the Princess Oliva recovered herself again, and although she saw the Knight to have the better side, yet the fear which she had was such, that she would have fled away she witted not whether, had it not been for the Knight's Squire, who coming unto her, persuaded her with many arguments to stay and see the end, which he was certain could not be without the death of the Giant, for that his Lord did continually increase upon him, and whose valour he knew to be such, that the longer he continued, the more increased his courage: but put case the Giant should have the victory, yet would it of force be with such danger to himself, that they needed not to fear his pursuit. The Princess being something herewith comforted, was contented to stay the end, yet not being fully resolved of fear, she entreated the Squire to help mount her on his masters horse, which he did, then sitting to behold the combat, she questioned with him of many matters touching his Master, whom in her heart she greatly commended, demanding what and of whence he was. To which his Squire replied, that he was descended of noble blood, but for his name and Country, he might not disclose to any one, being commanded to the contrary, only this, he called himself the Knight of Fortune. Then declaring unto her his first combat at Sea, and the battle with signor Roberto, when he delivered the Lady Beleriza: where hearing of the strange reports of the enchanted Castle, he determined to make trial thereof, not forgetting to declare unto her his masters Vision at Sea, which more than all the rest did cause her to admire, thinking with herself that it was only by the work of God: then considering what it was to be loved by such a Knight, whose equal she never had before seen, began deeply to fancy him. Thus passed they away the time, whiles the two fierce Champions continued their combat, both giving and receiving many wounds, all the ground being stained with their blood: and now the Giant being altogether enraged, rebelling and cursing his false Gods, foaming at the mouth like a mad man, ran upon the Knight, thinking to have taken him in his arms, but he perceiving his intent, and loathing such embracements, prevented him by avoiding through the quickness of his body, delivering withal so sound a blow on his right arm, which he had stretched forth, that he caused both it and his heavy Scimitar to fly into the field, then pursuing his victory, he never left wounding of him, till such time as he caused him to fall dead to the ground.  
And then parting his head from his shoulders, he kneeled down on his knees, rending thanks to God for the victory: and taking up the head, he went and presented the same to the Princess, desiring her to accept the same, as the first show of his love, who had vowed himself wholly to her service. The Princess dying her cheeks with a moddest blush, giving him hearty thanks for preserving her life, she entreated him to conduct her to the City, where she would cause him to be honoured according to his desert. The Knight easily consented hereto, and having bound up this wounds, caused his Squire to place her behind him, in this sort road they onwards, the Knight declaring unto her his love, which he had vowed long before he had seen her, only by his vision which he had seen, when first he left his own Country. Whilst they were thus discoursing of love, they perceived a great troup of Knights, coming galloping towards them, which when they were come near unto them, the Princess knew them to be the queens Knights: who being gathered together, and finding her wanting, were sent to pursue the Giant, and now having found her so well rescued, they were not a little glad thereof: marveling greatly how she had escaped. And demanding of her, were given to understand, the whole discourse before recited, wherein she did not fail to extol the Knight's valour to the uttermost: but he attributed his victory more to her beauty then his own valour. Thus road they on till they came to the City, one of the Knights carrying the Giant's head, to the great wonder of the whole City, who highly commended so vallerous a deed. And coming to the Court, they were received with great joy by the Queen, and the Princess Emilia. who assuredly esteemed her lost: but when they understood the manner how she was delivered, they gave God hearty thanks, greatly honouring and commending the Knight of fortune, feasting and entertaining him with all the kindness that might be, and being lodged in the Palace, was every day during the cure of his wounds, visited by the Princess Emilia and her daughter, unto whom many times he declared his passions: which the Princess perceiving to be extreme, began something to pity him, which Cupid perceiving, and minding to show his divine power, wounded her to the heart with one of his empoisoned shafts, whereby she could never be in quiet but in his presence: which he perceiving, began far sooner than otherwise he could have done, to recover his strength, so that within fifteen days he was thoroughly whole, and being able to bear Armour again, determined to travel towards the enchanted Castle, but first he thought good once more to try the Princess, as you shall hear in the Chapter following.   

CHAP. XVI. How the Knight of Fortune, made himself known to the Princess Oliva, and having obtained her love, departed towards the Enchanted Castle, and how he was there taken prisoner.  
THE Knight of Fortune, being thoroughly healed of his wounds which he had received in fight with the Giant Latron, when as he delivered the Princess Oliva, and minding to make trial of the adventure of the enchanted Castle, one day finding the Princess solitary, walking in the Palace garden, came unto her, and after salutations passed between them, began as followeth.  
Most excellent & beauteous Princess, if the cruel pains of a faithful Lover, may any way move compassion in a Lady's heart, or the endless sighs and tears of a Knight wounded by Cupid's shafts, may deserve to be pitied, than I beseech you Madam to behold him, that not only languisheth, but is even ready, through the extreme passions which I feel, to suffer death for your love, being appointed by the Destinies to love you, before ever I had sight of this your heavenly and divine beauty, since which time it hath so increased in me, that I find no other remedy if you prove cruel, but death only: which if you should, would be to me most welcome.  
The Princess hearing this, which unto her was most pleasant, answered, Knight of Fortune, what other name to call you by I am utterly ignorant of, the love which you say you bear unto me, may be great, neither do I think the contrary, as the hazarding of yourself to save my life, I must needs confess deserves the greatest recompense that I can bestow on you. But how far unfitting it is for one of my estate, to place my affection on a stranger, whose name nor Country I know not, yea peradventure on such a one, who though now he seems to love, yet having gained what he seeks for, may as soon leave me: but put case I were so fond bend, as not looking before I leapt, should place my affection on you, do you think, that either the King my Grandfather, or the rest of my friends would give consent to my choice, surely I am persuaded they would never yield thereto.  
The Knight having attentively listened to her discourse, and withal noting her change of colour whilst that she was speaking, especially when she seemed to make doubt of his constancy, replied. Worthy Princess, whose beauty excelleth the most fairest, and whose wisdom excelleth that beauty, my name, which unto none since I left my own Country I have declared, is jago, my native soil the Duchy of Saxony where my aged Father governs, not knowing what is become of me his unhappy son, who for the desire of seeking strange adventures, stolen secretly out of his Court, what since hath befallen me, I think partly by myself, and my Squire you have already heard. But where you seem to doubt of my loyalty, I beseech God no longer to permit my life, then unto you I prove faithful: & whereas you likewise doubt your friends consents, think not but both your Grandfather, yea and the Prince your Father likewise, who I doubt not ere long to see at liberty, will easily give their consents, seeing you desirous to accord thereto. The Princess no longer able to conceal the love which she bore him, and knowing him to be the Prince of Saxony, whose forwardness long before by fame had been bruited in the French Court, together with that of his supposed Brother, the Gentleman of the Forest, demanded whether it were himself or his Brother, that had achieved the adventure of the enchanted Sword. The Knight answered that it was his supposed brother, whose absence was the chiefest cause of his travel. And herewithal he declared unto her, the strange finding of Euordanus, together with the great love and affection between them, as is before declared: at which discourse the Princess took great delight, and in the end, having fully resolved with herself, she was contented to take him for her husband. And having thus vowed each to other faith and loyalty, he took his leave of her with many a chaste kiss: the next day preparing himself to travel towards the enchanted Castle, where within six days after he arrived, reasonable betimes in the morning. And being come even to the Bridge foot, he was willed by a Squire to pass no further, then presently came forth the Giant Brandofell, mounted on a mighty Courser, bearing in his hand a Lance big enough to have been the Mast of a small ship. Which when the Knight of Fortune beheld, he greatly admired the same, yet not being any thing afraid, he set spurs to his horse, addressing his shield, and placing his Lance in his rest, which he directed right against the Giant's breast, who by reason of his huge stature, bore his Lance so high, that coming together, he ran the same clean over his head, not so much as once touching him therewith: but the Knight's Lance hitting in the midst of the Giants shield, broke into a thousand shivers, causing the huge tower to bend backwards, but yet keeping his saddle, they met together so furiously with their bodies, that they were both horse & men tumbled to the ground, (to the great marvel of the prince Don Edward and the other Knights, which were standing on the battlements of the Castle beholding the same, who greatly commended him in their hearts,) then quickly recovering themselves, they drew forth their swords, and coming together, they began a most cruel and dangerous combat: the Knight still fearing his mighty blows, did often void the same by the quickness of his body: but yet many times received wound upon wound, himself likewise giving many.  
Thus continued they the spare of two hours without any great advantage to be discerned between them: the Giant at length beginning to be out of breath, began to give back a little, which the Knight perceiving followed him the faster, and the Giant still giving back, happened to stumble on a piece of the Knight's Lance, wherewith he fell to the ground: so that before he could recover himself, he had received two great wounds, the one in his thigh, the other in his right arm, whereby (being again gotten on his feet) he could not so well handle his Scimitar as before he did, which was soon the occasion that the Knight of Fortune got the victory, yet very dearly, for having the Giant at this advantage, he determined to end the Combat quickly, and croching near, the better to give a full blow at his head, he performed the same with such force, that he caused him to tumble to the ground, receiving withal so mighty a blow from the Giant on the right side, that cleaving his shield in two, he was thereby sore wounded in the shoulder and in his arm.  
But even as he was going to be revenged thereof, by cutting of his head, the Giant Furoll came unto him, and by force taking him in his arms, do what he could, he carried him into the Castle, where being disarmed, he had his wounds very carefully looked unto, at the entreaty of the Prince, who greatly liked him for his valour, which he had showed in the combat with Brandofell. And being cured of his wounds, was always by the Prince held as a companion, unto whom he declared the delivery of his daughter from the Giant Latron, and of the great sorrow which the Princess Emilia endured for his imprisonment. All which was a great increase of the love and amity béetweene them, whereby they passed away the time of their imprisonment with the greater content, which was not now very long: for God pitying the loss of so many brave and hardy Knights, sent not long after the imprisonment of the Knight of Fortune, the Knight of the Lions, and Adresto, as you shall hear hereafter. But first we will speak of the sorrow of the Court of Saxony, for the sudden departure of their Prince.   

CHAP. XVII. Of the great sorrow that was made by the Duke of Saxony, & the whole Court, when the Prince was found missing, and how by finding a Letter in his chamber window, it was known what was become of him.  
I Have a long time forgotten to declare unto you, the great sorrow and grief, which the noble Duke Mauris, the Duchess, and all the rest of the Court sustained, when the Prince jago was found missing, which was the next day after his departure: for the Duke his father finding him wanting the next day, demanded where he was, as being given to understand that his Squire Stephano, only in his company departed towards the Sea side, & that since they were not returned. Wherefore the Duke caused inquiry to be made for him, and hearing no certain news thereby, he grew marvelous discontented therewith: and coming into the Duchess her chamber, he found both her and her daughter in as great perplexity, not knowing what to conjecture of his absence, and demanding whether they knew the cause thereof, the Duchess told him that since the departure of the Gentleman of the Forest, she had never seen her son to show any content, & being denied often to follow him in seeking strange adventures, her mind did give her, that he was now departed by stealth, to follow that which otherwise he could not be permitted to do. The Duke being almost of the same opinion, began to rend his hair from his head, and to rage and take on mightily: the Duchess, his daughter, and all the rest that were present bearing him compapany in his grief, but even as they were in the midst of this sorrow: the Prince jagos Chamberlain came and brought a letter, which the Prince had left behind him in his chamber window, the contents whereof followeth.  
To my Sovereign and loving Father the Duke of Saxony.  
MOst high and mighty Prince and loving father, let not I beseech you, this my sudden and disobedient departure, any way vex or trouble your noble mind, but consider and judge of the same, not with this your ripe and stayed gravity, but look into the same with a remembrance of your more young and youthful years, when by your noble prowess & heroic deeds of Arms, you caused all the Regions of Europe, and Asia, to resound with the echo of your name: consider I beseech you, what a grief it is to a noble and vallerous mind, to be kept always in the bounds of his own native Country, yea like a Hawk to be as it were cubbed up in a mewe, and think withal I beseech you, what the world doth already, and will hereafter say of me, if I should still spend my days in this easy kind of life: will they not say that I do degenerate from being son unto so noble a Sire as yourself, and that this effeminate bringing up, under the wings of my mother, and in a Court given altogether unto pleasure and idleness, will in the end be the only subversion of this flourishing estate, when it shall please God to call you hence unto a more happy and delightful life. Call to mind I beseech you, the flourishing state of the Roman Empire, and consider how many noble youths rose to honour by sloth and idleness: nay rather, were not by those means the overthrow of their families. What think you of Tarqvinius Superbus, was not his sloth and effeminate living in his youth, the cause of his inordinate lust, and his lust the cause of his ruin. What shall I speak of Nero, Commodus, and divers others whom I could recite, that only by effeminate & ill education, degenerated from their noble predecessors: on the contrary side, look into Caesar, the Cato's, yea and the Scipios, who not lying at home, but even in their childhood as it were, followed the wars to their great & immortal fame. What shall I say farther, to commend the following of strange and hard adventures, considering that you already know the same better than I can describe: wherefore pardon I beseech you this my departure, which I doubt not will be prosperous unto me, and to the future benefit of your Country. I have directed my journey into England, from thence I intent to travel in search of my brother, the Gentleman of the Forest, in whose company I doubt not but to gain honour & renown: thus beseeching the Almighty, to continue your aged years in peace and happiness, I commit you into his protection.  
Your unworthy son, Don jago.  
The Duke having read this Letter, and now by the contents thereof knowing certainly what was become of his son, was somewhat appeased of his grief, and departing into his Closet, with more advisedness to consider of the contents thereof, began with reason to debate his sorrow, and having thoroughly weighed each matter with himself, he could not choose but in his heart highly commend the noble mind of his son, whom he did not doubt but in time would prove a famous Prince. Thus by little & little the old Duke recomforted himself, but the Duchess, and her daughter the Princess Egisena, could not so soon shake of their sorrow, especially the Princess, who now being destitute of her Brother's company, and also wanting the sight of her Lover, whose very absence was a hell unto her, and whose return she feared would be very long, by reason of his vow at his departure: which was not to rest in any place, until he had found out his Parents. Many times would she debate with herself hereof, somewhiles imagining, that he travailing through so many strange Countries, might peradventure be won to the love of some more beautiful Dame: then would she run strait ways to behold herself in her glass, and with the minds of many women, thinking herself exceeding fair, she would begin to blame him of inconstancy: then suddenly reproving herself for condemning him without true knowledge, she would say, Ah Egisena, unfortunate wench, how canst thou conceive so ill a thought against him whom thou so dearly lovest: O that it were lawful for me like a man to go to seek thee out, whereby to manifest the love I bear thee, but alas I cannot, wherefore I will only direct my prayers unto almighty GOD to preserve thee.  
Thus would she many times under colour of lamenting her Brother's absence, bewail her friend, which together with the grief of the Duchess her mother, caused the whole Court to remain a long time in heaviness, giving over all their former pastimes & exercises of pleasure, wherein the Court did very much abound. Here again will we leave them to speak of other matters.   

CHAP. XVIII. How the Knight of the Lions and Adresto, shipping themselves for Spain, were by force of weather driven on the coast of France, where going on shore they heard of the Enchanted Castle, and how coming thither, the Knight of the Lions ended the same.  
THe Knight of the Lions and Adresto, having remained a long time at Waterford, staying for a wind to sail towards Spain, whether the Knight of the Lions determined to accompany Adresto, to see if he could by the wise Adriano, learn any thing touching his parents, whom he as yet knew not: and now having remained by the space of eight weeks idly in Ireland, the Mariners brought them news of a north-east wind, wherefore making haste, being furnished with all things needful for their voyage, they went aboard: and having hoist there sails, they committed themselves to the mercy of the Seas, and the wind blowing a reasonable good gale, they soon had lost the sight of the Irish land. The next day by noon, the Master of the ship, told them that they had gone very fast, for by sounding he knew himself to be within five leagues of an Island now called Silly: wherefore directing their course somewhat to the Southward, they sailed on merrily by the space of three days, but on the fourth day the wind altering and much increasing his force, caused them after much striving to put themselves with the land, which they found to be a port in France called Rokestay. Where coming on shore to refresh themselves, they were given to understand of the adventure of the Enchanted Castle, wherein so many brave and hardy Knigts had lost themselves. Which when the Knight of the Lions heard, and being very desirous to prove the same, he entreated Adresto to accompany him thither, who being as desirous as himself to win honour, easily consented: upon condition that himself might have the first trial of the adventure. And being hereon concluded, they directed their course towards the Forest, where within ten days after they arrived, and being at length come to the Castle, in the morning somewhat early, having rested themselves the night before in a Village on the edge of the Forest: where they were given to understand, of the great valour of the Knight of Fortune, who some fifteen days before was taken prisoner, whose loss was greatly bewailed in the French Court: the Knights being as I have said come unto the Castle, had not long stayed, before such time as Brandosell being thoroughly cured of his wounds, which he had received of the Knight of Fortune, came forth mounted on his wont Courser, at whose hugeness both the Knights did greatly wonder, yet not being any whit dismayed, Adresto according to their agreement, took the other part of the field against him, and setting spurs to their horses, they met together with such fury, that breaking their Lances to pieces, they passed on half astonished: & having ended their course, Adresto turning his horse drew forth his sword: but the Giant who never before had fought on horseback, was going to alight, which Adresto perceiving, called unto him, telling him it was not the part of a Knight to forsake his horse, as long as he was able to keep him on his back. Which the Giant hearing, and thinking with himself, that if fight on horseback, he should find any disadvantage, he might easily slay his enemy's horse, it caused him drawing his heavy Scimitar to use these speeches. Knight, I was willing to have delayed thy death for a while, which on foot might have been deferred by thy quickness: but now seeing it is thy own doings to fight on horseback, blame none but thyself for thy folly. Then coming both together, the Giant had thought to have delivered a blow upon his shield, but Adresto being very wary avoided the same by the quick shifting of his horse, giving the Giant a mighty blow on the right side, which he taking with his shield, sliced away a great part thereof. Which the Giant perceiving, wondered at his strength, so likewise did Prince Edward, Don Iago, and many other hardy Knights, who stood on the battlement of the Castle to behold the combat, greatly commending the brave managing of Adresto.  
But Prince Edward casting his eye on the Knight of the Lions, who was still sitting on horseback, began to have a marvelous opinion of him, so the turning to Iago he said: that if his mind did not misdéeme, that Knight on horseback was the better of the two, and that if they did both fail in this attempt, it was in vain for them ever to expect deliverance. Now had Adresto and the Giant, continued their battle by the space of half an hour on horseback, both of them having received many wounds, but especially the Giant, who for want of skill received many more than otherwise he needed to have done: which caused him to fret and chafe exceedingly. And being minded to delay the fight no longer, he raised himself in his stirrups, and delivered a full blow at his enemy's head, who seeing it coming, and being afraid to take the same, he lightly rained back his horse, so that the Giant missing his mark, was not able to recover his blow, which lighted so fully on his own horse head, that he cloven it in two, and therewithal tumbled himself to the ground: but as great hap was, he freed himself so well in the fall, that before Adresto could take any advantage against him, he had recovered his feet, which he perceiving, likewise alighted, and addressing himself, they began a more fierce combat then that on horseback, the Giant still having the worst, till at last, Adresto stepping back to avoid a blow which the Giant made at him, he unluckily stumbled, and withal fell to the ground, receiving in the fall a great wound on his right thigh, which the Knight of the Lions perceiving, and fearing the death of his friend, he leapt lightly from his horse, and came to save him, which was done with such speed, that the Giant could not execute the cruelty which otherwise he would, but was forced to turn about to defend himself from his new adversary: who began to deliver him such blows, as made the beholders soon judge who should have the victory. For he gave not one blow in vain, but it did either break in pieces his Armour, or wound his body, which now through loss of blood began to grow weak. On the contrary side, his blows which he gave unto the Knight, had not the force so much as once to pierce his shield, so impregnable was the strength thereof, which caused the Giant to curse and blaspheme his Gods, who were not able to deliver him from one alone Knight. And being in this rage, he thought with one blow to have finished the battle, wherefore uniting all his forces together, he struck the Knight such a blow on the shield, that had it been of any other metal, he had cleft it in the midst, but to this it did no harm at all, but with that blow he broke his Scimitar, causing the Knight to set one knee to the ground: but being again recovered, he pursued the Giant with such fierce blows, that soon he caused him to fall at his feet: which Furioll perceiving, cried unto him to save his life, but the Knight not seeming to hearken unto him, cut off his head.  
The Giant Furioll seeing his companion slain, drew forth a mighty broad Falchion, and running at the knight said: Villain, wherefore hast thou slain him that was not able to defend himself, I having likewise cried unto thee to have spared him, but seeing thou hast so cruelly dealt with him, I will send thy soul for a sacrifice unto him. Do thy worst replied the Knight, for I slew him because I did not fear thee: and if thou look not the better to thyself, I doubt not but to send thee to bear him company with the dead, whom living thou hast been a companion unto in many mischiefs, then hurling together, they began a cruel combat.  
The Knight having borne some two or three of his weitie blows, (which although by the goodness of his Armour did not wound his body, yet were they of such force that they did compel him to bend with his knees to the ground, and now minding with himself to avoid the same) began to round & traverse his ground, often avoiding his enemy's force, & endangering his huge body both with blows and thrusts, which he gave with such good and skilful knowledge, that the blood issued forth abundantly, to the great joy and admiration of the English Prince, and the rest of the prisoners, who in a manner hereby were in assurance of their delivery: wondering in their minds what he might be, that with such force was able to contend with the Giant Furioll. Thus continued they fight by the space of two hours, not so much as once taking breath, whereby the Knight had the advantage, as being more used to such combats then the Giant, who now was in a manner clean wearied, and so far out of breath, that he did nothing but pant and blow, which the Knight perceiving, pursued him the faster, dealing such blows with the trusty blade of Adriano, that caused his body to lie open to the keen edge thereof, so that the grass whereon they fought, was clean covered with his blood, himself not having given any wound to his adversay, although in many places he had bruised his Armour: and now being overcharged with his enemy's blows, and growing faint through his great phlebottomy, fell to the ground in a swoon. The Knight thinking to have slain him, was called unto to hasten unto the wicket, which if he did not make the greater speed, would be closed against him, wherefore leaving the Giant sweltering in his own blood, he ran unto the gate, and finding one closing the wicket against him, he gave him such a blow that he cloven him to the breast: and entering in, he began to deal his dole amongst them that made any resistance, which were not many.  
Then came unto him the English Prince Don Iago and the rest, giving him infinite thanks for his great pains, which he had taken for their delivery: desiring him to put off his Helm, that they might see his face and know him, who had so nobly wrought their deliverance. The Knight being loath to deny their request, especially that of the Prince Iago, whom he perfectly knew, and of whose being there he did not a little marvel, without any more ceremonies put of his Helm. But when the whole company beheld his young years and great beauty, which by his heat was the more augmented, they did greatly admire his rare prowess: but what man living is able to express the exceeding joy, which the Prince jago enjoyed when he beheld him: who running presently unto him, embraced him in his arms, saying. O brother, how happy am I so enjoy this your presence in a time so needful: whose absence hath been a greater grief unto me than my tongue can express. The Knight of the Lions being as glad to see him, used him with the like kindness, demanding by what adventure he came thither, and how the Duke his father, his Mother, and the Princess his sister fared, all which was deferred until a more convenient time. Then was he embraced of the Prince Edward, and the rest, at whose entreaty he pardoned Sir Pestrell the Duke's Cousin: and for the courtesy which he had showed them, during their imprisonment, they used him very kindly. Then the Knight of the Lions commanded Adresto to be sent for, and his wounds to be dressed, declaring unto the Prince jago, that it was the same Knight for whom he left Saxony to go into Ireland to combat with all. Here after they had rested themselves by the space of five days, having sent word of this fortunate deliverance, to the Court of France, they determined altogether to ride thither, where in three days they arrived with easy journeys, by reason of the wounds of Adresto. And at their coming forth of the Castle, with a mighty clap of thunder, the Castle and dead bodies of the Giants were vanished clean out of sight, to the great astonishment of them all.  
And now being as I have said come to the City of Paris, they were royally welcomed, and entertained by the King, the Queen, the Princess Emilia, Oliva: and all Nobles of the Court, unto whom the Prince of England, declared the whole discourse of every particular accident, touching their imprisonment and delivery. Which when the King had heard, he made a solemn vow to be revenged on the Duke of Orleans, and his whole family: but at the entreaty of the Prince, he pardoned Sir Pestrell, who afterwards proved a good and hardy Knight. Thus passed they away the time in the French Court, by the space of three weeks, each friend recounting to other their several adventures, and making preparation for the solemnizing of the marriage between Prince Edward & the Princess Emilia, in which time Adresto was fully recovered of his wounds, and being desirous to see his old love the Duchess Lenarda, hastened on the Knight of the Lions to departed: whereunto he was very willing, by reason of the desire he had to speak with Adriano.   

CHAP. XIX. How the Knight of the Lions, departing from the French Court with Adresto, landed in Holland, where coming to the Castle of Coruew, he delivered the King his Father.  
ANd now being ready provided to departed, they came both into the great Hall, where with many ceremonious courtesies, they took their leave of the King, the Queen, the Princess Emilia, and Oliva, with all the rest of the Nobles of the Court. The two Princes, Edward, and Iago, seeing they would needs departed, accompanied them two days journey onwards on their way, during which time the Prince jago desiring pardon of his brother, for not bearing him company, made known unto him his love to the Princess Oliva, which by his abode in Court, he doubted not but to obtain, considering the great love and amity, which was between him and her father. The Knight of the Lions being well contented herewith, desired him at his return, or sending into Saxony, to remember his duty to the Duke, and Ductches, and his beautiful sister the Princess Egisena, whom he entirely loved: assuring him that as soon as he could learn any certainty, of that which he now went to seek for, he would return thither likewise, which he did not doubt but would happen very shortly. Then taking their leave of each other, with many kind embracements, the Prince Edward most earnestly entreated him, to see him at his return out of Spain at the English Court, to which he easily consented. Thus they departed, the two Princes towards the Court, & the Knight of the Lions & Adresto, towards the Seaside, where their ship remained for them: where being arrived, and setting into Sea, they sailed merrily by the space of two days, but on the third day the wind altering, and the Seas growing very foul, they were forced to put to hull: and being thus tossed to and fro by the wind and Seas, by the space of five days, they were at last put on shore on the coast of the Duchy of Holland: where going on shore, and taking their horses and Armour, minding a little to take the air after their storm at Sea, they road onwards in a narrow way, fast by a pleasant groves side, where they heard one very pitifully weeping, and listening attentively, they might hear these few words pronounced. And is it possible that God will suffer such cruel and injust customs to continue, to the destruction of so many brave and hardy Knights, as have been by this wicked custom of Coruew destroyed. O false and disloyal Griffory, that fearing to show thy malice openly, hast ordained so vild a custom.  
The two Knights hearing this complaint, and imagining thereby that there was some cause extraordinary which moved the party so to complain, alighted, and went into the Grove, where they found a Squire lying on the earth, his face all blubbered with tears, and demanding him the cause of his sorrow, was given by him to understand of the custom of Coruew, where not long since the Duke of Litsenburge his Lord and Master, having been by the space of 20. years traveling in search of his sovereign, the noble King Frederick of Denmark, during which time he had accomplished many great and hardy deeds of Arms, and now returning home into his own Country, with intent no longer to seek after the which was impossible to be found, travailing along by a Castle not passing a days journey hence, where the Duke of this Country hath erected a custom, that no Knight shall pass that way, but first he shall leave his horse and Armour behind him, unless he conquer the Gardants, which is a thing impossible, because of the number: and then he declared the fame as it is more at large expressed in the first part of this history.  
The Knight of the Lions and Adresto hearing of this custom, and greatly pitying the loss of so many hardy Knights as were there daily imprisoned, began to grow into a great longing to make trial of the same: wherefore sending back Gillimo unto the ship for such things as they wanted, and to give direction to the Mariners, that if with in ten days they did not return, that then they should direct their course for Spain, whether they would peradventure travel by Land: and willing Gillimo to follow them with as much speed as he could, they departed towards Coruew, that night lying at a Village not passing a league and a half from the Castle. And the next day early in the morning having heard Divine service, and taking a small repast, they road directly towards the Castle. Adresto having desired to make the first trial of his valour, and now being come unto the place where the Shield hung at the bridge-foot, Adresto struck the same so hard and rudely with the blunt end of his Lance, that he caused the whole Valley to resound with the noise thereof. Presently issued forth one of the Knight's gardants, and mounting on his horse, came unto Adresto demanding what he sought. Entrance answered Adresto, which if it be denied I will purchase with my sword. Then setting spurs to their horses, they met together with such fury, that the Knight of the bridge was sent headlong to the ground: and after him came forth another, who was likewise sent to bear him company, breaking his neck with the fall, Adresto never so much as once moving in his saddle: and to be brief, so good was his hap, that with one spear he dismounted the first five Knights, not any of them being able to rise from the ground. Then taking choice of a fresh horse, and a new Lance, for that his old one was remaining broken in the body of him whom he last dismounted, he went on to the farther end of the Bridge, where he found two of the other five ready mounted, and veiling their Lances, they ran together in such sort, that breaking both their Lances on his shield, it caused him a little to stagger: but he with whom Adresto met, was sent to measure his length on the ground, then encountering with the other again, he ran his lance clean through his body, himself being a little wounded on the right side.  
Then taking a new Lance, he prepared to run against the other three, but before he ran, the Knight of the Lions entreated him to give over the jousts to him, as being more fresh and lusty: but hereunto Adresto would not in any sort agree, but desired him to permit him to end the adventure if he could: and if he did fail therein, then that he would proceed in the same himself. And herewithal again he set spurs to his horse, and encountering with them all three at once, gave him that was on the right side of him such a blow, that he caused him to fall over his horse tail: but the other two meeting him fully at one instant, broke their Lances in the midst of his shield, causing both horse and man to tumble to the ground, but soon had he recovered his feet, and was again remounted by his Squire, who brought him his own horse, & presented him with a Lance. Then being mounted, he encountered again with the other two, who at the second course he likewise sent to bear their fellows company, himself being sore bruised and wounded in two or three places of the body, whereby he lost a great deal of blood: and likewise his horse was so overwearied, that he was no longer able to bear his body. Wherefore he dismounted, minding to have changed his horse, but as he was so doing, he espied the five Knights with whom he was to deal withal coming towards him on foot, wherefore drawing forth his sword, and dressing his shield on his arm, he went against them with a most bold and undaunted courage: and being come together, was the first that gave the onset, which he performed with such inestimable prowess, that within less than twenty blows, he had sent one of them to seek passage of old Charon: the rest perceiving the death of their fellow, began with more fury to assault him, whereby he was driven to his trumps, for they were all four stout and hardy Knights. Thus continued the fight by the space of an hour, many wounds being given on both sides, so that the ground was all covered with blood: and now Adresto feeling himself grievously wounded, & his strength through wearisomeness & loss of blood to decrease, minding to show courage to the end, united all his forces together, and determining to end his life with honour, ran fiercely upon them, giving one of them such a blow on the head, that he cloven him to the teeth: then turning to another of them who had wounded him behind, gave him such a discharge, that for ever after he was free from any more such combats, having both his arms cut off. The other two seeing this, and fearing the like, would willingly if they could have desisted from the battle: but he pursued them with so mighty blows, that at length they fell both at his feet, the one of them stark dead, the other crying for mercy, which he obtained.  
Then Adresto being very faint, sat down on the grass, which the Knight of the Lions perceiving, came towards him to help him, but before he could come unto him, Adresto was fallen into a swoon: wherefore commending him unto their Squires, he prepared himself against the other five Knights, which by this time were come even unto him: and at the first encounter, gave one of them so rude a blow, that cutting away both shoulder and right arm, he caused him to fall dead to the ground, then turning to another, he took of at one blow his head.  
The other three seeing this, beset him round about, laying at him withal their force, which was far weak to do him any hurt: so impierceable was his Armour, which at this time stood him in good steed, for he being sure from wounding, needed not to take any pains but only in offending, which he did with such agility, that in less than half an hour, he had sent them all to seek passage into another world. Then had he time a little to breathe himself, and also to see Adresto, who by this time, by the careful industry of the Squires, was come to himself again, and had his wounds bound up, being somewhat weak and fainty, with his great loss of blood which he sustained. And now the Knight of the Lions, seeing there was no great doubt of his recovery, went towards the Castle, to provoke the Gardants, if otherwise they would not come forth, to the battle.  
But even as he was come to the gate, five whose lot was next to fight came forth, and all at once set on him, but he like a second Hercules, amidst the eleven Giantlike brethren, first received all their blows upon his shield, to try the strength of their arms, and having once felt the weight of all their forces, he directed his sword against him, whose blows he thought might do him the greatest damage: and giving him a full blow beneath the shield, parted him right in the waist, then laying on amongst them with equal dole, he made from some their heads, from others their arms and legs to fly into the field. And now four of them being killed in the place, the other began to fly as fast as he could towards the wicked, but before he could attain half of the way, the Knight of the Lions overtook him, & gave him so full a blow upon the head, that he cloven him down to the girdle: to the amazement of the beholders, who stood upon the battlements of the Castle, almost fearing to go forth to fight with him, but being urged, both by their oath, and also by the commandment of their Captain, the nex five went forth, but were in a manner no sooner issued, but that they sought means to return again, such incredible fear had they of his weighty blows. But he seeing their intent, and minding to prevent the same, got lighty between the gate and them: and now having already slain three of them, and wounded the other two, he began to fall into consideration with himself, that if he did not take the time, whiles it presented itself unto him to enter into the Castle, he might when he would, peradventure be bard of the like opportunity. And considering withal the goodness of his Armour, & unwillingness of the defendants to come forth, determined to enter whilst the wicket was open: wherefore stepping a little to the right hand, he gave one of them so sore a blow on the left shoulder, that caused him to fall to the ground, and herewithal he leapt suddenly to the wicket, and got in thereat: which they of the Castle perceiving, and with all fearing the sequel, began to arm themselves, and all at once to assault him, some with swords, other with Lances, some others again betook them to throwing of stones, & divers engines of iron at him, where with he was greatly troubled. But seeing no remedy, but either to conquer or die, he covered himself with his shield, and with his trusty blade in his hand, he made such way amongst them, that he thought himself surest, that was farthest off from him: so that within the space of two hours, he had not left above six of them living: all which were likewise very sore wounded, & being utterly void of hope to escape his conquering arm, determined to submit themselves to his mercy, hoping thereby to save their lives, which otherwise they could not long preserve. Wherefore falling on their knees, with one voice they craved mercy, which he soon granted unto them, being as I have many times before said, naturally inclined to pity. And willing them to stand up, he demanded what prisoners there were in the Castle, and for what occasion that custom was there erected: all which one of them at large recounted, declaring how that the King of Denmark as yet remained there, with divers other noble and gallant Knights. Which when the Knight of the Lions heard, he commanded strait ways to be conducted unto the prison: and likewise that Adresto should be brought in, and his wounds dressed by the Surgeon of the Castle, which was a man greatly experienced in that science, all which was presently performed. And one of the Knights running to one of them that was slain, took from him a bunch of keys, wherewith he opened a little iron door, and descending down a narrow pair of stairs, they came to a dungeon underground, at the entry whereof was another iron door, which they likewise opened: then having a torch lighted in their hands, they unchained all the prisoners, amongst whom they found King Frederick, the Lord Gwaltero his Cousin: the Duke of Litsenburge, the Lord of Menew, Sir Henault, and divers others, to the number of a hundred, all or most part Knights of Denmark. Many of which were sore pined away, and almost famished through their extreme grief and course far: but the King, the Lord Gwaltero, & Sir Henault, were little or nothing altered for all their long imprisonment. And now being all brought forth into the great Hall of the Castle, they with one accord gave hearty thanks unto the Knight of the Lions, and then falling on their knees, with one consent they gave praises to almighty God, which being ended: the King with the noble men came unto the Knight of the Lions, desiring him to declare who he was, that they were so much bound unto for their deliverance. To which he answered, that he was commonly called the Knight of the Lions: But as touching his parents or Country, he knew not, only this he had heard, that being a child, he was taken up in a Forest, in the Kingdom of Denmark, by the Duke of Saxony, who since that time had carefully brought him up as his son. Which when the King had heard he embraced him in his arms, desiring him to accompany him into his Kingdom, where he would show himself so thankful unto him, as he should not think his labour ill bestowed. The Knight being by the instinct of nature, greatly affected unto the King, soon consented hereto, although it were far out of his way towards Spain, whether he was traveling. For which the King gave him hearty thanks, and withal began to have an inward love towards him: here continued they by the space of eight or ten days, to refresh their weak bodies, as also for the curing of the wounds of Adresto, and making preparation for their Armours, whereof they had great store in the Castle, & some horses: others they got abroad in the Country near adjoining for their moneys. And now hearing that Grifforie was gathering his forces to come against them, they departed towards Flaunders, where hearing of the wars and rebellion in Denmark, they determined unknown to hasten thither, and naming themselves to be all Knights arrant, met together by chance: and hearing of these wars were, minded to entertain themselves in the army of the States. With this determination arrived they at the City of Gaunt, which was still held by the Danes: and here they remained, to provide themselves of such things as they needed.   

CHAP. XX. How King Frederick, the Knight of the Lions, and the rest of their company, arrived in the Army of the States, and how the next day they gave battle unto the Scots, where, by the valour of the King, the Knight of the Lions, and their company, the States got the victory, and how the King made himself known.  
THe King and the rest of his company, having provided themselves of all things necessary for their journey, departed from Gaunt towards Denmark, being in all to the number of an hundred Knights, well furnished and provided for the war. And marching thus together through Flaunders, and other provinces of Germany, they arrived within thirty days at Rensberge, where the two Armies by the space of six days had line encamped one against the other, continually skirmishing, but neither side daring the one to assault the other. And now being here arrived, the King and the rest being disguised for fear of being known, came unto the States, desiring entertainment, and withal, declared a long feigned circumstance how they had met together: and being all minded to aid their right and just cause against the Scots and traitors, they were come together to proffer their services. The States being glad of this succour, and withal knowing divers of them, as the Duke of Litsenburge, and others, whom they received with great joy, and gave entertainment to all the rest, who by the means of the Duke were placed in command: and entering into counsel, they determined to send presently unto the Scots to demand battle, which by the Earl Douglas was soon granted: and the next day it was appointed that it should be tried by a pitched battle who should have the victory.  
The morning being come, and both Armies ranged in the field, the States had divided their forces into three battalions, the first whereof was led by the Lord Louden, and the County of Mildrope, containing eight thousand, the second or main battle, was led by the Duke of Litsenburge, and the Lord of Opencade, containing twelve thousand, the third & last battalion, containing nine thousand, was led by the Lord Itzenho, and the Lord of Rensberge. The King, the Knight of the Lions, with their company, & some others, to the number of two hundred, would not at all join themselves with any of the troops, but in a lose manner, would make a trial to break in on the backs of their enemies as soon as the battle should begin: each one of them for their better knowledge to their friends, wearing on their Helms a cross of green and coronation coloured silk: in this sort was ranged the whole battle of the States.  
On the contrary side, the Earl Douglas placed his Army in another manner, making as it were but one main battle of his whole Army, in the midst whereof he placed for his own guard five thousand Scots: the rest he intermixed with the Danes, the greatest part whereof he placed in the forefront of the battle: his wings consisted most of a light kind of people, which did use to cast Darts, being armed only with a short sword and target, with which when they came to join blows, they did great spoil to their enemies.  
And now both Armies being thus ranged in battle array, the Drums & Trumpets sounded, making a most joyful sound, to them whose hearts not daunted with fear desired to encounter with their enemies: every Captain encouraging his men to fight valiantly, and to do their best to win the victory. The chief of the states encouraging their soldiers with the justice of their cause, as being urged to fight for their freedom and liberty of their Country. By this time were both Armies come together, the Lord Louden giving the first charge upon his enemies, broke his Lance valiantly, and drawing out his sword, being followed by his company, made way through his enemy's ranks, but soon he was stopped from going far: and had it not been, that the Duke of Litsenbege, and the Lord of Opencade came with fresh succours, they had been all put to the sword. For the Scots seeing the violent rashness of the Lord Louden and the Count Mildrope, opened their ranks of purpose, and having suffered them to enter▪ enclosed them round about, but now at the coming of the Duke, the battle began to grow very hot, insomuch that there were many slain of both sides.  
The Scots ever keeping themselves close together, made themselves the stronger, whereas the States for want of skill and knowledge, suffered their troops to break their ranks, to their great damage. Which the Earl Douglas perceiving, with some twelve or fourteen thousand entered in amongst them, making great slaughter where they went. The Earl this day showing that his years had not any way taken away the valour which in his former days he had showed, for it was thought that this day he slew with his own hands above threescore Knights.  
Now began the Danes to fly, trusting rather to their heels then the defence of their swords, which the Lord Itzenho, and the Lord Rensberge perceiving, came in with the rearward, and again renewed the fight, which before was almost ended, gathering together the disperse troops of the Duke. But alas to small purpose had this their new onset been, had it not been that the King with his company of Venturers, having fetched about a great hill, which lay on the side of the battle, came at the same instant on the back of their enemies, and withal their might charging them, entered pell-mell amongst them, killing a great many, before such time as they could turn their faces, to know from whence this mischief came. The King accompanied with the Knight of the Lions, Adresto, and the Lord Gwaltero, made a plain way for the rest to follow them, especially the Knight of the Lions, who never struck stroke but was either the death or dismembering of some Knight. The Lord of Menew, and Sir Henault, did likewise the part of noble Knights: so as in short space the odds began to appear on the side of the States, who before were even vanquished. Which when the Earl Douglas saw and grieving to behold, he with his elected company came to make head, where he saw most danger, and perceiving that the Knight of their Lions, was in a manner the whole overthrow of his Army, he set spurs to his horse, and coming unto him, gave him a great blow on his Helm, causing him to bend his head forwards. But he soon requited the same, for lifting up his sword, he gave the Earl such a blow, that had he not warded the same with his shield, he had ended therewith his life, for notwithstanding his defence, it caused him to fall from his horse in a trance, and so was taken prisoner: to the great discouragement of the whole Army, who presently put themselves to flight, but were so hotly pursued, that they were but few that escaped, but were either slain or taken prisoners. Of men of name, there was slain of the States the Duke of Litsenburge, the Lord Londen, and the Count of Mildrope. And of the Scots & traitors, there was slain Sir james Lewrence the Earl's Cousin, the Lord Crecon a Scot, and the Count Hermes, with some twenty thousand of the Commons. There was taken prisoners the Earl Douglas, the Viscount Berwick, the Archbishop of Maiance, and the Lord Harding, which two latter, were the next day executed for their rebellion.  
Thus the victory being obtained by the States, they gave thanks to GOD with public & solemn prayers, then causing the wounded to be cured, they called a counsel to determine on their affairs, where all the chief of the Army being assembled, every man commended the great valour of the Venturers, but especially that of the Knight of the Lions, the green Knight which was Adresto, and the two tawny Knights, whereof the one was the King, the other the Lord Gwaltero.  
The King now seeing it was not good longer to conceal himself, stood forth in the midst of the Assembly, and taking of his Helm, discovering his face, spoke with a reasonable loud voice.  
My friends & well-beloved Countrymen, I perceive the long absence of your King, hath worn out in many their natural love & obedience which they ought to have to their native Country: and also in most of you the knowledge of me, who by the providence of God, and valour of this noble Knight, (pointing to the Knight of the Lions) am delivered from a long and grievous imprisonment, which my Cousin Gwaltero, and many others here present can well witness, and now am come unto the aid of you my true and loving Subjects. Wherefore it is my will, that the chief of those conspirators who have raised this rebellion, be to morrow next (to the example of all others) hanged, drawn and quartered.  
The whole Assembly hearing & seeing their King, who for the space of twenty years they all imagined to be dead, with one voice cried aloud, Long live King Frederick to rain and rule over us, and withal, ran each striving to come first to kiss his hands, and welcome him into his kingdom: greatly desiring to hear the cause of his long absence, which was deferred till some other more convenient time. This news was presently spread through the whole Army, to the great joy of all men, which they evidently showed by their shouts and bonfires which they made that night. The next day, the King having seen the execution of the chief Traitors, and pardoning the rest, dismissing all his Army, saving some few, which he sent to the Towns that were in rebellion, which presently yielded unto his mercy, he departed towards Maiance, having still in his company the Knight of the Lions and Adresto, whom he entirely loved, and to whom he made many large proffers, if they pleased to have stayed in his kingdom. And being come to Maiance, he was received with the greatest joy that might be by the Citizens, where he remained by the space of a month, in the greatest joy that heart could wish: save only the remembrance of his Queen did something hinder the fullness thereof, which was awhile sweetened with the delightful company of his unknown son, where I will leave them, and so conclude the second part of this history.   
FINIS.