Part V

And now old Saturn, whom clerks Chronos call,
Of nature cold and dry, of motion slow,
Author of all misfortunes that befall
To men and their affairs, malignant so,
Was shortly from his Apogee to go,
To his exile, and Jove was to ascend,
And so these lovers' troubles all should end.

Benign bright King of stars, who hast forsook
Juno, the stately consort of thy bed.
And down-descending to the earth, hast took
Strange shapes, of mortals being enamoured,
Who were not only metamorphosed
By thee, but taken up into the skies,
And shining, sit amongst the Deities ;

Hasten thy rising to thy glorious throne,
And sitting on thy sapphir'd arch in state,
Look on those princes that have undergone
The dire effects of thy stern father's hate,
Which, as thou art a King, commiserate,
And when that thou hast ended everything,
My Muse unto this story's period bring.

For yet the storm is not quite overpast,
Nor suddenly will all these troubles end :
With Saturn's frowns the heaven is overcast.
And clouds of sorrow, show'rs of tears portend :
For while that Leoline his course doth bend,
And is arrived at Carnarvon's port,
The scene of woe lies in King Dermot's court.

For now no sooner did the rosy morn
(Which summons drowsy mortals from their rest)
Her dewy locks in Thetis' glass adorn.
And Phoebus' steeds in flaming trappings drest,
From the low North, ascended up the East,
But it through all the court was forthwith known,
How that Prince Leoline away was gone.

Of which a messenger did tidings bring
To Sydanis, and Princess Mellefant :
Who forthwith did relate them to the King :
Who of his going's cause being ignorant,
Affirm'd, that he civility did want,
Who did so many courtesies receive.
And went away without taking his leave.

Wonder possest King Dermot's royal heart
With much regret, the Prince should leave him so :
But Mellefant, she acts another part,
Of doubtful sorrow in this scene of woe,
For after him she was resolv'd to go :
And under the black veil of the next night
She did determine for to take her flight.

The very same fair Sydanis intends,
Who in Eblana would no longer stay :
Having on Leoline now had her ends,
Glad that her princely lord was gone away,
Too long and wearisome she thought the day :
And blamed as slow the russins of the Sun,
That tow'rds the West they did no faster run.

But at the last. Night with a sable robe,
Rising from Taenarus her dark abode,
O'erspread this half of th' universal globe.
Making the wolf, bat, scritch-owl, and the toad,
(The haters of the light) to come abroad,
When, wearied with his work the day before.
The heavy ploughman doth at midnight snore.

Now Mellefant and Sydanis, who had
To fly away that night the same intent;
That like a page, this like a ship-boy clad,
The better all suspicion to prevent.
As they were wont unto their beds they went :
Whenas a gentle sleep did soon surprise
Fair Sydanis, and clos'd her dove-like eyes.

But Mellefant, whose eyes and heart receiv'd
No dull impressions of the night, nor rest,
To Sydanis' bedside stole unperceiv'd.
And got away the page's suit ; so drest,
Therein she fled away, for that she guest,
That for the Prince's page she should be taken,
That had of late King Dermot's court forsaken.

Passing the corps de gard the watch did keep,
And place where Master Constable still sate,
(For they were all most cordially asleep)
She forthwith came unto the city gate.
And by the porter was let out thereat,
Passing unquestion'd, for whenas she said
She was the Prince's page, she was not stayed.

Come to the key, where ships at anchor ride.
An unexpected spectacle befalls,
For on the shrouds of a tall ship she spied
Two lights, that seem'd like two round fiery balls,
Aereal twins, the which the seaman calls
Castor and Pollux, who being seen together,
Portend a happy voyage, and fair weather.

But if that only one of them appears
Upon the hallyards of the ship, or masts,
It is an ominous osse the seaman fears,
If not of shipwreck, yet of gusts and blasts :
While she beheld, one of the balls down-casts
Itself from the mainyard upon the shore,
And as a walking fire went on before.

This apparition somewhat terrified
The Princess, who had now no power to go
Elsewhere, but follow her fantastic guide.
And thus as they had wandered to and fro,
About the time that the first cock did crow.
They came unto a woody hill, so high.
The top did seem to gore the starry sky.

For like Olympus he did lift his head
Above the middle region of the air.
Where thunders, hail, and meteors are bred :
For there the weather evermore was fair :
Unto the top hereof this wand'ring pair
Being arriv'd, by many a passage steep.
The wearied Princess was cast in a sleep.

On strowings laid, of never-fading flowers.
Which on this hill's serenest top had grown.
She in sweet dreams did pass the silent hours ;
Upon her a light coverlet was thrown,
Made of the peach's soft and gentle down :
Whom there I leave in no less great a bliss
Than was the sorrow of fair Sydanis.

Who having overslept herself, did wake
But half an hour before the break of day ;
To dress herself she all the speed did make,
Herself in skipper's habit to array,
And tow'rds the port she forthwith takes her way :
But night and darkness her no longer hide,
For ere she got aboard she was descried.

Night's cloud upon the eastern horoscope,
Which like a sleeping eyelid hid the sky.
Uplifted seem'd to wake, and set wide ope,
Disclos'd unto the world Heaven's glorious eye :
The watch her apprehends immediately,
Conceiving her no skipper's boy to be,
Whose face and habit did so disagree.

Whether it were the then near dawning day.
Or else a native lustre of her own.
Which through her clothes her beauty did bewray,
Which like a carbuncle in darkness shone,
It is uncertain ; but she yet unknown.
About the hour King Dermot us'd to rise.
Was brought unto the court in this disguise.

O envious Light, betrayer of each plot.
Lovers in darkness silently contrive !
Disturb not their affairs, they need thee not,
Nor do not them of wished joys deprive,
Who to avoid thy piercing eye do strive :
Converse with gravers, who cut seals in bone,
Or threescore faces on a cherry-stone.

What hath this innocent beauty done to thee,
That thou her life to danger should'st expose ?
But Light, we know it is thy property
To conceal nothing, but all things disclose :
For now about the time King Dermot rose,
First a suspicion, after, a report
Was spread, that Mellefant was fled from court.

What miseries can Fate together twist,
When she to ruin mortals doth intend !
For now no sooner Mellefant was mist,
Whose loss King Dermot highly did offend,
Who messengers to seek her straight doth send,
And while that they for the fair Princess sought,
Poor Sydanis is to King Dermot brought.

Who seeing her in ship-boy's clothes disguis'd,
Was more enraged than he was before :
For now King Dermot instantly surmis'd,
By that concealing habit which she wore,
She was confederate, and therefore swore,
Unless she told where Mellefant was fled,
Upon a scaffold she should lose her head.

After dire threats, and strict examination,
Sweet Sydanis (as was the truth) denying,
She neither knew the time, nor the occasion,
Nor manner of Princess Mellefant her flying.
Grown desperate, she cares not now for dying,
Nor any other kind of torment, since
She may not go to her beloved Prince.

For Sydanis is into prison thrown,
In durance, and in fetters to remain,
Till where the Princess were it should be known,
Or that she to the court should come again.
Her keeper doth her kindly entertain
In his best lodgings, whereas her restraint
Gave birth and vent to many a thousand plaint.

Which here should be related, but you may
Conjecture what a wight in such a case,
Hopeless of comfort and relief, would say,
Confin'd unto a solitary place,
In her life's danger and the King's disgrace :
Unless through grief she speechless were become :
Small sorrows speak, the greatest still are dumb.

But as a woodman shooting with his bow,
And afterwards pursuing with his hound
An innocent and silly harmless doe.
Doth kill her not so soon, as if astound
He suffer her to grieve upon her wound.
And tapisht in a brake, to see the flood.
And scent the crimson torrent of her blood.

So Sydanis, sad and disconsolate,
Hath now an opportunity to grieve
The dire affects of her malignant fate,
Which nought but death could possibly relieve :
Time only seems to her a sad reprieve :
To speak of her we for a while shall cease,
Till some good hap procure her glad release.

For now from women's passions and slight woe,
After the drums' and clarions' haughty sound,
To speak the rage of Kings marching we go,
Who roaring like to lions being bound
With horrid grumblings do our ears confound :
Blue-eyed Bellona, thou who plumed art,
The soldiers' warlike mistress, act this part.

And thou, stern Mars, whose hands wet and imbru'd
With raw fresh bleeding slaughters thou hast made
Of foes, whom thou victorious hast subdu'd,
Whirling about thy casque thy conquering blade,
Help me out of this lake of blood to wade,
And smooth the furrows of thy frowning brow,
As when thou erst didst lovely Venus woo.

King Dermot, highly enraged for the loss
Of Princess Mellefant, his kingdom's heir,
Resolv'd, that with an army he would cross
The British seas, and straight his course would steer
Unto besieg'd Carleon city, where
He would assist the Duke against his foe,
King Arvon, and his son that wrong'd him so.

For now he thought he might be well assur'd,
His daughter with Prince Leoline combin'd,
Since his consent no ways could be procur'd
For marrying her, he did a season find
To steal away, and with a favouring wind,
He to his royal sire's, King Arvon's court.
His prize like beauteous Helen would transport.

Therefore to be reveng'd was all his care,
And for that purpose he a fleet would man.
Greater then Menelaus did prepare,
When he the bloody Trojan war began,
And after ten years' siege the city wan,
Putting to sea from Aulis' port in Greece,
Or Jason's fleet that fetcht the golden fleece.

Upon the beating of King Dermot's drum.
From Ulster's shrubby hills and quagmires foul,
Of slight-arm'd kerne forthwith a troop doth come,
Who in the furthest North do hear the owl
And wolves about their cabins nightly howl,
Which to all hardness have inured bin,
Eating raw beef, half boil'd in the cow's skin.

Ere these were civiliz'd, they had no corn,
Nor us'd no tillage that might get them food,
But to their children's mouths were newly born,
They put upon a spear's point dipt in blood
Raw flesh, that so it might be understood.
That children grown-up men should never feed.
But when that they had done some bloody deed.

These savages whilst they did erst possess
Like Tartars, or the roving Scythian nation,
Coleraine's, or Monaghan's wide wilderness.
Having no towns or any habitation,
They and their cattle still took up their station
In grassy plains, and there a while abide,
Where the deep Eagh and fishful Dergh do slide.

More forces from the borders of Lough Erne
Do come, which in small islands doth abound,
In whose clear bottom men may yet discern
Houses and towers under the water drown'd,
Which divine justice sunk into the ground,
For sodomy, and such abomination,
Men using beasts in carnal copulation.

From Conagh's pleasant and more civil parts,
Where arbute trees do grow upon the coast.
Horsemen well arm'd with glaves and with their darts.
Unto the army of King Dermot post.
Making complete the number of his host :
Who like old Romans on their pads do ride,
And hobbies without stirrups do bestride.

What counties, or what towns Munster contains,
Through whose fair champian the smooth Boyne doth pass,
Send forces from their well-manured plains,
Arm'd with the halbert, and the gaily-glass.
The county that great Desmond's country was,
With that of the most ancient peer Kildare,
Join'd with MacArte, for this war prepare.

To them the province Leinster doth unite
Her trained bands and warlike regiment,
Who use the pike and partisan in fight.
And who are from those towns and counties sent.
Whose fields the Barrow, Nore, and Shore indent :
Three sister rivers, whose clear source begins
In the high woody mountains of the Glins.

Unto these forces rais'd in Erinland,
Are join'd the Highland redshank and fierce Scot,
Of whom there comes a stout and numerous band,
Which up steep hills, as on plain ground do trot.
As for steel armour they regard it not ;
Their barbed arrows clos'd in a calfs skin,
To their yew bows the quivers still have bin.

The army being shipt, the winds that blow
Over the vast Atlantic Ocean,
Bred in high hills westward of Mexico,
Who with their waving wings do cool and fan
The sunburnt Moor and naked Floridan,
Sending forth constantly their favouring gales.
Waft Dermot's ships unto the coast of Wales.

For now Mars occidental in the West,
Meridional descending from the Line,
Of the Moon's mansion Cancer was possest,
And sliding down into an airy sign,
Rais'd winds, that furrow'd up the western brine.
Corus and Thracius blowing still abaft,
King Dermot's ships do to Carleon waft.

But yet those blasts that were so prosperous,
And Dermot in Carleon's harbour set,
Contrary were to Prince Androgios,
And did his much desired voyage let :
His ships out of the harbour could not get,
But in it for full six weeks' space they stay'd,
Waiting a wind, and never anchor weigh'd.

To pass for Erinland was his intent,
With all the gallantry coin could provide,
And there to consummate his high content,
In making beauteous Mellefant his bride :
But Aeolus his passage hath deny'd.
And unexpected, with succours unsought,
King Dermot to Carleon's walls hath brought.

Whose coming was no sooner told the Duke
And Prince Androgios, but both went to meet
King Dermot at the port, whereas they took
In arms each other, and do kindly greet :
Then through a long and well-built spacious street.
They to a stately castle do ascend.
Where for that night their compliments they end.

Next morrow from the castle's lofty towers,
Whose mighty ruins are remaining yet.
The Princes did behold King Arvon's powers.
Which had Carleon city round beset :
To whom Duke Leon, full of just regret,
And sorrow for his daughter, doth relate
His wrongs and cause of his distressed state.

King Dermot, swol'n with ire and indignation.
And being no less sensible of grief.
Of his unheard-of injuries makes relation.
Telling that he was come to the relief
Of Leon, to be wrecked on a thief,
Who albeit that he were a King's son,
A base and injurious fact had done.

The noble Prince Androgios now resenting
His sufferings in the loss of Mellefant,
Whose marriage (as he thought) was past preventing,
With high-born courage which no fear could daunt.
Besought the King and Duke, that they would grant
To him a boon, which was this, That he might
Challenge Prince Leoline to single fight.

For by this time fame all abroad had spread,
Prince Leoline was back return'd again,
Whom erst King Arvon did believe was dead.
And in Carnarvon Castle did remain.
So now there nothing was that did restrain
The noble Prince Androgios, to demand
A single combat with him hand to hand.

And to that end an Herald straight was sent
To Leoline, who in his right hand wore
A blood-red banner, as the argument
Of the defiance-message that he bore;
Behind upon his taberd, and before,
A lion rampant, and a dragon red.
On crimson velvet were embroidered.

The Herald, whose approach none might debar,
Doth with a trumpet through the army ride,
Who bravely sounded all the points of war,
Until he came to the pavilion side.
Whereas Prince Leoline did then abide,
And then the trumpeter eftsoons doth fall
In lower warlike notes to sound a call.

The which no sooner Leoline had heard,
But bravely mounted on a barbed steed,
He like a princely gallant straight appear'd.
To whom the Herald doth the challenge read :
Which having done, he afterward with speed,
(As is the form when challenges are past)
Androgios' gauntlet on the ground he cast.

Prince Leoline commanding of his page
To take the gauntlet up, briefly replied,
' Herald ! I do accept Androgios' gage :
Tell him the sword the quarrel shall decide.
Of him, whom he unjustly hath defied :
For three days hence in both our armies' sight,
We will a noble single combat fight.'

The Herald back return'd unto the King,
Related how his message he had done,
And to Androgios doth the answer bring
Of Leoline : King Albion's princely son
Hath for his forward valour honour won :
Of whose resolves, and warlike preparation,
Till the third day I respite the relation.

Meantime the Druid Morrogh, who hath bin
Thus long unmentioned, now chief actor was ;
Who though that he were absent, yet had seen
All that in Erinland had come to pass,
By means of a most wond'rous magic glass,
Which to his eye would represent and show
All that the wizard did desire to know.

Which glass was made according to the opinion
Of chymists, of seven metals purified.
Together melted under the dominion
Of those seven planets do their natures guide :
Then if it polisht be on either side,
And made in form of circle, one shall see
Things that are past as well as those that be.

In this said glass he saw the sad estate
Of Sydanis, who was in prison kept.
Who weeping in her silent chamber sate.
And Mellefant, who on the mountain slept,
Whose pass the wand'ring fire did intercept :
And now this story must not end, before
The Druid both these ladies do restore.

For they be those must put a happy end
To discords, and bring all to a conclusion,
And all that is amiss they must amend,
And put in order things are in confusion :
They of much blood must hinder the effusion :
Such virtues ladies have, who are the bliss.
Which here in this world among mortals is.

Thrice ten degrees of the Ecliptic line,
Phoebus ascending up had overpast.
And now had ent'red in another sign,
From Gemini, whereas he harbour'd last.
Since Mellefant into a trance was cast,
And thirty journeys through night's silent shade
O'er her nocturnal arch the Moon had made.

Who nightly riding o'er the mountain's top,
Where Mellefant the sleeping Princess lay,
Her silver chariot there she still did stop.
And by the sleeping body us'd to stay,
Kissing, caressing, till near break of day.
Of her rare beauties now enamour'd more
Than of her lov'd Endymion heretofore.

No longer could the Queen of Night refrain
From kissing of her sweet and ruby lips:
Her kisses ended, she begins again.
With gentle arms her ivory neck she clips :
Her hands sometimes tow'rds parts more private slips,
Curious-inquisitive for to know the truth,
If one so rarely fair could be a youth.

But as a thief, that doth assurance lack
At his first pilfering from a heap of gold.
Doth oft put forth his hand, oft pulls it back,
Then puts it forth again, then doth withhold ;
So at the first Cynthia was not so bold
To let her hand assure her by a touch.
Of that which she to know desir'd so much.

Yet at the last fortune did things disclose,
And gave contentment to her longing mind.
For in the pocket of the page's hose
Putting her hand, she did a letter find,
Which all the clue of error did unwind,
Written by Mellefant to Leoline,
In case that she should fail of her design.

The letter specified her sex and name,
And whole scope of her amorous intent.
Laying on Leoline a gentle blame,
That he unkindly from Eblana went :
It specified to follow him she meant.
And to Carnarvon castle she would go.
To meet with Leoline, her dear-lov'd foe.

The Empress of the wat'ry wilderness
Reading the lines, was straight with pity mov'd,
Compassionating Mellefant's distress,
The rather for that she herself had lov'd.
Now the third day since Mellefant behov'd
To be in Britain, a way was prepar'd
For her transport, which then shall be declar'd.

For we must speak of Sydanis her wrongs,
Of her sad prison, and her glad release.
Which to the Druid Morrogh's part belongs,
Who to attend her fortunes ne'er did cease,
But after troubles would procure her ease,
Of which the manner briefly to relate,
Much wonder in the hearers will create.

There's nothing truer than that sapience
Of wise and knowing men prevails o'er fate,
Ruling the stars, and each intelligence,
O'er which their wisdom do predominate;
They can advance good fortune, ill abate :
And if that in the heavens they can do so,
They can do much more here on earth below.

As soon as Phoebus had behind him shut
The ruby leaves of Heaven's great western gate,
And to that day an evening period put,
And now began it to be dark and late,
As Morrogh in his lonely cabin sate,
He put in act a course, that should be sure
Fair Sydanis enlargement to procure.

For by his learning understanding all
The languages that fowls and ravens speak.
He to him did an ancient raven call,
Commanding her, that she her flight should take,
And to Carleon's walls all speed should make,
Unto the limbs of one late quartered,
On which the day before the bird had fed.

Adding withal this strict injunction.
That instantly, ere any man it wist.
She should bring back to him a dead man's bone.
The which that she should pick out of his wrist.
The raven of her message nothing mist.
But suddenly she fled, and unsuspected,
The great magician's will she straight effected.

Thieves say, that he that shall about him bear
This bone, and means by night men's goods to take,
All that are sleeping (the while he is there
Stealing and breaking the house) shall not wake,
For any noise that ever he shall make :
But shall so soundly sleep, as that he may
Securely rob, and unknown pass away.

Unto this bone the Druid he did add
A shining grass, that grows among the rocks,
Which a strange kind of secret virtue had,
For it would straight undo all bolts and locks :
The blacksmith's skill in shoeing it so mocks,
That if a horse but touch it with his shoes,
Though ne'er so well set on, he doth them loose.

Strange tales there are which history affords,
Of bones, and stones, of herbs, and minerals,
The knowledge of whom hath bin found by birds,
Beasts, insects, and by other animals :
Witness the stone Albertus Magnus calls
Aldorius, the virtues of which stone.
But for the eggs of crows had not been known.

For if one take crows' eggs out of the nest,
And boil them in hot water till they be
Stone hard, the old crow never will take rest,
Until the stone Aldorius she see.
Which she brings back with her unto the tree
Where her nest was, which a while having lain
Upon the eggs, it turns them reare again.

Rare secrets are in nature, which we'll pass,
As to this matter little pertinent :
The dead-man's wrist-bone, and the shining grass.
From Morrogh to fair Sydanis were sent,
And of their natures an advertisement,
Which on a beech's rind, as on a note.
With a sharp-pointed steel the Druid wrote ;

Advising her, that she without delay,
Through the dark shade of that approaching night.
From her confinement straight would hie away,
And come to him before the morrow's light,
And that she should not fear for any sight
She should behold, nor should not be dismay'd,
For she to him should safely be convey'd.

Having enclos'd within the beech's bark
The bone, and grass, he in the raven's ear
Whisper'd some words, who flying through the dark,
With wings that blacker than night's darkness were,
Ere threescore minutes past she was come there,
Where Sydanis (though it were very late)
Lamenting, in her chamber window sate.

Where suddenly the window being ope,
The raven ent'red in without control,
And into Sydanis her lap did drop
The things enclos'd within the beechen scroll :
Thus she, who still was held an ominous fowl,
And fatal her presage in everything,
Yet news of joy to Sydanis doth bring.

Who having read the writing, out she goes,
Intending to take shipping at the kay :
But fate of her did otherwise dispose,
For she must be convey'd another way :
For at the gate Night's sable coach did stay,
Which by the Druid had directed bin,
As she came out of doors to take her in.

This chariot by four black steeds was drawn.
First Nicteus burn'd with Pluto's pitchy mark ;
Then black Alastor with his snaky mane,
With Metheos, Phobos, who do love the dark :
Which four at singing of the early lark.
Vanish away, and underground are gone,
Drenching their sooty heads in Acheron.

Thus Sydanis in Night's black coach being set,
Before Fortuna Major did arise,
Show'd like Love's Queen upon a throne of jet,
Who suddenly was hurried through the skies,
And all the residue of that night lies
In Morrogh's cave, until the dawning East
Disclosed fair Aurora's rosy breast.

Who risen from her saffron-colour'd bed,
Perfum'd with Indian spices where she lay,
And Phoebus lifting up his golden head,
Light's universal banner did display ;
In glorious robes himself he doth array,
And every cloud he far away doth chase
From the bright front of heaven's clear shining face.

For now as he the mountain tops did gild
With burnisht ore of heaven's celestial mine,
The Kings' two armies came into the field,
Led by Androgios and by Leoline ;
Who like the star of Gemini did shine :
Brave twins of Honour, for who them beheld.
Could not affirm which of the two excell'd.

In midst of their main battles the two Kings,
As in their safest fortresses, were plac't :
Great Dukes and Colonels did lead the wings.
Who with their several commands were grac't :
Now as the Princes did to combat haste,
A wondrous thing appear'd to all the host.
Which all their warlike resolution crost ;

For high in skies there instantly appears
A chariot, which eight white swans as they flew,
Yok'd in golden chains and silken gears,
Soaring an easy pace after them drew :
But who was in the chariot no man knew,
For that an airy and bright shining cloud
The party carried, from their sight did shroud.

By flow'ry colours which the swans did bear
About their necks, where emonies were blended
With myrtles, and with pinks entwined were :
Some thought that Venus was again descended.
As when her son Aeneas she defended
From furious Turnus, and as then she did,
Androgios in a cloud should so be hid.

But it was otherwise, this clouded coach
Was sent by the fair Princess of the Night,
With a command, that when it did approach
The place where the two Princes were to fight,
The swans upon the ground should down aligh-t.
The winged team accordingly did do 't.
And set the coach at Prince Androgios' foot.

The cloud then vanishing away that kept
The fair and long'd-for object from the eye,
Bright Mellefant appear'd, who long had slept,
As in a trance now wak't immediately,
Whose beauty when Androgios did descry,
He gave command, that till that he had fought,
She unto royal Dermot should be brought.

All this did brave Prince Leoline behold,
And all the army (it was done so nigh)
Who eftsoons to his sire King Arvon told,
That there was come an enchantress from the sky :
But all enchantments he did then defy.
As things ridiculous, which he did not fear,
And forthwith he prepar'd to couch his spear.

Now as these valiant Princes had begun
To couch their lances, and put them in rest,
And each at other fiercely for to run.
Aiming the points at one another's breast,
Prince Leoline's courageous noble beast
Began to tremble, and to snort, and prance.
But one foot forward he would not advance.

The Prince enrag'd with anger and disdain,
Did strike into his sides his spur of steel,
And still he urg'd him on, but all in vain,
For that for all the strokes that he did feel
From the brave noble Prince's sprightly heel.
He went not on, but rather backward made,
As if that he had bin a restive jade.

Which now did make Prince Leoline conceive,
He had indeed with some enchantment met :
Morrogh the Druid he did not perceive.
Nor Sydanis, who both their hands had set
Upon the bridle, and the horse did let,
For fern-seed got upon St. John his night.
Made them invisible to all men's sight.

But when the fern-seed they had cast away,
And Leoline his Sydanis did see.
He from his steed alights without delay.
And with such joy as may not utter'd be,
Embracing, kisses her soft lips, and she
That had no other magic, but love's charms,
Circled his neck with her soft ivory arms.

With Leoline she to King Arvon goes,
Whose almost infinite astonishment
May not be told ; now Sydanis he knows,
Far greater is his joy, and his content.
The Druid is recall'd from banishment.
That he unto the King and Prince might tell
The history of all things that befell.

It being known how all things came about,
And how that both the Princesses were found,
Both armies rais'd a universal shout :
The trumpets, clarions flourishes do sound,
All hearts are now with high contentment crown'd,
The heralds with white flags of peace are seen,
And civic garlands of oak's leafy green.

For by this time the brave Androgios knew
His princely mistress Mellefant the fair.
For joy whereof his arms away he threw.
And with deportement most debonair
Saluteth old King Dermot's beauteous heir :
Intending at Carleon with all state.
His hymeneal rites to celebrate.

Whereas two Kings, two Princes, and their Brides,
And old Duke Leon, had an interview :
There now was full contentment on all sides,
Which fortune seemed daily to renew,
And by the Druid's telling greater grew :
Of all the great adventures that had past,
And Merioneth in the dungeon cast.

Who albeit that she long dead was thought,
And in the dungeon starv'd for want of food.
Yet to Duke Leon she again was brought,
From whom he divers stories understood.
And now in fine all sorted unto good:
Whose wonderful relations serve in Wales
To pass away long nights in winter's tales.

And lastly for to consummate all joy.
Ere Phoebe nine times had renew'd her light.
Fair Sydanis brought forth a Prince, a boy,
Heaven's choicest darling, and mankind's delight :
Of whose exploits some happier pen may write,
And may relate strange things to be admir'd :
For here my fainting pen is well near tir'd.