Canto 32

I Now remember how by promise bound,
Before this time, I should haue made you know,
Vpon what cause faire Bradamant did ground,
The realouse humors ouer charg'd her so:
She neuer tooke before so fore a wound,
She neuer felt before such bitter wo,
No not the tale which Richardett, told her,
In such a fit, and so great pangs did hold her.

To tell you first, when I should haue begonne,
Renaldo call'd my tale another way;
No sooner with Renaldo had I done,
But straight with Guidon I was forst to stay:
From this to that, thus vnawares I tonne,
That I forgot of Bradamant to say:
But now I meane to speake of her before
I speake of those two champions any more.

Yet needs I borrow must a word or twaine,
How Agramant to Arly d d retyre,
And gatherd there the few that did remaine,
Escaped from the furie of the fire:
Where not farre off, from Affrica nor Spaine,
He plants as fit as he could we I desire,
For lying on a flood so neare the seas,
Both men and vitell were supplyde at ease.

To muster men. Marsilio had commission,
That may supply the place of them were lost,
Of ships of warre there was no small prouision,
Soone had he gatherd vp a mightie host:
There was no want of armour and munition,
Ther was no spare of labour nor of cost,
That with such taxes, Affrica was sessed,
That all the Cities were full sore oppressed.

And further Agramant, that he might win
Fierce Rodomont, to aid him with his power,
Did offer him a match of his neare kin,
King Almonts daughter with a Realme in dower,
But he his profer weys not worth a pin,
But keepes the bridge and doth the passage scower,
That with his spoiles the place was welny filled,
Of those he had dismounted, tane, and killed.

But faire Marfisa tooke another way:
For when she heard how long the siege had lasted,
How Agramant his campe at Arly lay,
How both his men were slaine, and store was wasted,
She sought no cause of any more delay,
But thither straight without inuiting hasted,
Her purse and person offring in the fight,
In iust defending of his crowne and right.

She brings Brunello, and the king she gaue him,
Who had giu'n cause of very iust offence,
Ten dayes and ten, she did of courtsie saue him,
To see who durst to stand in his defence;
But when ys no man made the meanes to haue him,
Though she to kill him had so good pretence,
She thought it base, her noble hands to file,
Vpon an abiect dastard, and a vile.

She will deferre reuenge of all his wrong;
And vnto Arly brought him to the king;
Whose ioy to tell, would aske a learned tongue,
Both for the aid, and present she did bring:
(For shew whereof, before it should be long,
He offerd her to make Brunello wring:
And at what time she pleased to appoint,
To haue him sent to crack his chiefest ioynt.)

Vnto some desart place he banisht was,
To serue for meat for carrion crowes and pyes,
Rogero that had helpt him oft (alas)
Now cannot heare his pitteous mones and cryes:
He lyes sore wounded, as it comes to passe,
And littles knowes where poore Brunello lyes:
And when he vnderstands thereof at last,
It is so late alreadie it is past.

This while what torments Bradamant indured,
Those twentie days, how did she waile and mourne?
Against which time she thought her selfe assured
Her loue to her, and to the faith should turne:
She makes no doubt but he might haue procured,
Within that space to make his home returne,
(Yea though he were in prison kept or banished)
If troth and care of promise were not vanished.

In this long looking she would often blame,
The fierie coursers of the heauenly light,
She thought yt Phoebus wheeles were out of frame,
Or that his charriot was not in good plight:
Great Iosuahs day seemd shorter then these same,
And shorter seemd ye false Amphitrions night:
Each day and night she thought was more then doubled
So fancie blind, her sence and reason troubled.

She now enuyes the Dormouse of his rest,
And wisht some heauy sleepe might ouertake her,
Where with she might most deadly be possest,
Till her Rogero should returne to wake her:
But waking cares ay lodged in her brest,
That her desired sleepe did quite forsake her:
To sleepe so long doth so much passe her power,
She cannot frame her eyes to wincke one hower.

But turnes and tosses in her restlesse bed,
(Alas no turning turnes her cares away)
Oft at the window she puts forth her hed,
To see how neare it waxeth vnto day;
When by the dawning, darkesome night is fled,
She notwithstanding stands at that same stay:
And during all the time the day doth last,
She wishes for the night againe as fast.

When fifteene dayes were of the twentie spent,
She growes in hope that his approch is ny,
Then from a towre with eyes to Paris bent,
She waytes and watches if she can descry
At least some messenger that he hath sent,
May bring the news where her sweet heart doth ly:
And satisfie her mind by what hard chance,
He is constraind to stay so long in France.

If farre aloofe the shine of armour bright,
Or any thing resembling it she spies,
She straightway hopes it is her onely knight,
And wipes her face and clears her blubbred eyes:
If any one vnarm'd do come in sight,
It may be one from him, she doth surmise:
And though by proofe she finde each hope vntrue,
She ceaseth not for that, to hope anew.

Sometime all arm'd she mounteth on her steed,
And so rides forth in hope to meet her deare,
But soone some fancie her concert doth feed,
That he is past some other way more neare:
Then homeward hasteth she with as much speed,
Yet she at home no newes of him can heare:
From day to day she passeth on this fashion,
Hither and thither tossed with her passion.

Now when her twentie dayes were full expired,
And that beside were passed some dayes more,
Yet not Rogero come, whom she desired,
Her heart with care and sorrowes waxed sore;
With cryes & plaints, the woods and caues she tyred,
Her breasts she beat, her golden locks she tore,
Not while these gripes of griefe her heart embrace,
Doth she forbeare her eyes or Angels face.

Why then (quoth she) beseemes it me it vaine,
To seeke him still, who thus from me doth slide?
Shall I esteeme of him that doth disdaine,
My sute, and scorne the torments I abide?
Him, in whose heart a hate of me doth raine,
Him, that accounts his vertues so well tride,
As though some goddesse should frō heau'n descéd
Before that he his heart to loue would bend?

Though stout he is, he knows how well I loue him,
And how I honor him with soule and hart,
Yet can my hot affection nothing moue him,
To let me of his loue possesse some part:
And left he might perceiue it would behoue him,
To ease my griefe, if he did know my smart,
To giue me hearing of my plaint he feares,
As to the charme the Adder stoppes his eares.

Loue; stop his course that doth so loosely range,
And flit so fast before my sorrie pace;
Or with my former state else let me change,
When I sought not to tracke thy tedious trace:
I hope in vaine; remorce to thee is strange,
Thou dost triumph vpon my pitteous case:
For hearts thy meat, thy drinke is louers teares,
Their cries the Musicke doth delight thine eares.

But whom blame I? it was my fond desire,
That first entist me to this killing call,
And made me past my reach so far aspire,
That now I feele the greater is my fall:
For when aloft my wings be toucht with fire,
Then farewell flight and I am left to fall:
But still they spring, and still I vpward tend,
And still I see my fall, and finde no end.

Desire quoth I? my selfe I was too light,
To giue desire an entrance in my brest,
Who when he had my reason put to flight,
And of my heart himselfe was full possest,
No roome for ioy is left, or hearts delight,
Since I do harbour this vntruly guest,
Who though he guide me to my certaine fall,
The long expectance grieues me worst of all.

Then mine the fault be, if it be a fault,
To loue a knight deserues to be beloued,
With all good inward parts so richly fraught,
Whose vertues be so knowne, and well approued;
And more, whom would not his sweet face haue caught?
Myself, I must confes, his beautie moued:
What blind vnhappie wretch were she would shun,
The pleasing prospect of the precious Sun?

Beside my destinie which drew me on,
By others sugred speech I was entrained,
As though I should by this great match anon,
Another Paradice on earth haue gained:
But now their words into the wind be gon,
And I in Purgatorie am restrained:
Well may I Merlin curse the false deceiuer,
Yet my Rogero I shall loue for euer.

I hop't of Merlins and Melissas promises,
Who did such stories of our race foretell:
Is this the profit of beleeuing prophesies,
And giuing credit to the sprites of hell?
Alas they might haue found them better offices,
Then me to flout that trusted them so well:
But all for enuie haue they wrought me this,
So to bereaue me of my former blis.

Thus sighs and lamentations are not fained,
Small place was left for comfort in her brest:
Yet spite of sorrows hope was entertained,
And though with much a do, yet in it prest;
To ease her mourning heart when she complained,
And giuing her sometimes, some little rest,
By sweet remembrance of the words he spake,
When he was forst of her his leaue to take.

The minding of those words did so recure,
Her wounded heart that she was well content,
For one months space his absence to endure,
Yea when his dayes of promise quite were spent:
Yet still she lookt for him you may be sure,
And many a time that way she came and went,
Till by the way at last such news she hard,
That all the hope she had before, was mard.

For she by chance did meet a Cascoigne knight,
That in the warres of Africa was caught,
One that was taken captiue in that fight,
Then when fore Paris the great field was fought.
What she requires to know, he could recite,
But carelesse of the other news he brought,
Of her Rogero chiefly she enquires,
To heare of him is all that she desires.

Of whom the knight could let her vnderstand,
(For in that Court he late his life had led)
How Mandricard and he fought hand to hand,
And how much blood on either part was shed:
And though by wounds himselfe in perrill stand,
That he subdewd his foe, and left him ded.
Now if with this, his storie he had ended,
Rogeros scuse had verie well bin mended.

But he proceeds to tell, how one was theare,
A Ladie hight Marfisa in the feeld,
Whose fame for martiall acts did shine most cleare,
Whose beautie rare to few or none did yeeld.
Rogero her, she held Rogero deare,
They neuer were asunder or but seeld;
And that they two, as eu'rie one there saith,
The tone the tother plighted haue their faith.

And if Rogero once were whole and sound,
Their wedding should be celebrate with speed;
That such a paire as yet was neuer found,
And happie they should come of such a seed:
How much it ioy'd the Pagan Princes round,
To thinke vpon the race they two should breed,
Which likely were all others to excell
In feats of arms that erst on earth did dwell.

The Gascoigne knight of all that he had sed,
Himselfe had reason to beleeue was sooth,
So generall a fame thereof was spred,
There were but few but had it in their mouth.
Some little kindnesse she did vse, had fed
Their foolish humors of this false vntrowth;
Still fame will grow if once abrode it flie,
Although the ground be troth or be a lye.

They came indeed together to this fight,
And many times together they were seene,
For he was warlike, stout and worthy knight,
And she a gallant, faire, and daintie Queene,
By which, suspition neuer iudging right,
Did gather straight they had assured beene:
And specially because when she departed,
To visite him she was so soone reuerted.

Of iust suspect their reason was put slènder,
If they had weighed well their vertues rate,
Though of his wounds she seemd to be so tender,
And of his danger had so great a care;
Against bad tongues no goodnes can defend her,
For those most free from faults, they least wil spare,
But prate of them whom they haue scantly knowne,
And iudge their humors to be like their owne.

Now when the knight auowd the tale he told,
(And yet in truth you know t'was but a tale)
The damsels heart was toucht with shiuering cold,
The little hope she had away it stale,
Almost in sound her seate she scarce could hold:
With mourning cheare, and face both wan and pale,
She said no more: but mad with griefe and ire,
Her horse she turnd, and homeward did retire.

And all in armour on her bed she lyes,
She wisht a thousand times she now were ded,
She bytes the sheets to dampe her sobs and cries,
The Gascoigns news still bearing in her hed:
Her heart is swolne, and blubberd be her eyes,
With trickling teares bedewed is her bed,
When griefe would be no longer holden in,
Needs out it must, and thus it doth begin.

Ah wretched me, whom might a maiden finde,
In whom she might be bold to put her trust?
Since you Rogero mine, become vnkinde,
And tread your faith and promise in the durst;
You only you, mine eye so farre did blinde,
I still esteemd you faithfull, true and iust:
Ah neuer wench that loued so sincerely,
Was in requitall punisht so seuerely.

Why (my Rogero) why do you forget?
(Sith you in beautie passe each other knight,
And do in feats of armes such honor get,
As none can match your chiualrie in fight)
This golden vertue with the rest to set,
By which your glorious name wil shine more bright
If as in other graces you abound,
So in your promise constancie were found?

This is the vertue breeds most estimation,
By which all other vertues shew more cleare,
As things most faire do loose their commendation,
Which by the want of light can not appeare:
What glorie was it by false protestation,
Her to deceiue whose Saint and God you were?
Whom your fair speeches might haue made beleeue
That water would be carride in a seeue.

From any haynous act wouldst thou restraine,
That murdrest her who beares thee so good will?
How wouldst thou vse thy foe, that thus in paine,
Dost let thy frend to be tormented still?
Thou that with breach of faith thy heart dost staine,
No doubt thou dost not care for doing ill;
Well this I know, that God is euer iust,
He will er long reuenge my wrongs I trust.

For why, vnthankfulnesse is that great sin,
Which made the Diuell and his angels fall,
Lost him and them the ioyes that they were in,
And now in hell detaines them bound and thrall:
Then marke the guerdon thou art like to win;
For why like faults, like punishment do call,
In being thus vnthankfull vnto me,
That alwayes was so faithfull vnto thee.

Besides of theft thy selfe thou canst not quit,
If theft it be to take that is not thine;
The keeping of my heart no that's not it,
That thou shouldst haue it I do not repine,
Thy selfe thou stalst, which I can not remit,
Thy selfe thou knowst thou art, or shouldst be mine,
Thou knowst damnation doth to them belong,
That do keepe backe anothers right by wrong.

Though thou Rogero do forsake me so,
I can not will nor chuse but loue thee still;
And since there is no measure of my wo,
Death is the only way to end mine ill;
But thus to cut of life, and thou my fo
It makes me do it with a worser will;
Yet had I dyde when best I did thee please,
I should haue counted death, no death but ease.

When with these words she was resolu'd to dy,
She tooke her sword in hand for that intent,
And forst her selfe vpon the point to ly;
Her armour then her purpose did preuent,
A better spirit checkt her by and by:
And in her heart this secret reason went,
O noble Ladie borne to so great same,
Wilt thou thus end thy dayes with so great shame?

Nay rather if thou beest resolu'd to dy,
Vnto the campe why dost thou not repaire,
Where bodies of braue knights in heaps do ly?
Lo there to honor the directest staire,
The losse of life with glorie thou mayst buy,
To die in thy Rogeros sight were faire,
And happily by him thou mayst be slaine,
So he that wrought thy wo, may rid thy paine.

Thou mayst be sure Marfisa there to see,
Who hath so falsly stolne away thy frend;
If first on her thou couldst reuenged be,
With more contented mind thy dayes would end.
Vnto this counsell she doth best agree,
And onward on this iourny straight doth tend,
She takes anew deuice that might implie,
A desperation, and a will to die.

The collour of her bases was almost,
Like to the falling whitish leaues and drie,
Which when the moisture of the branch is lost,
Forsakenly about the tree doth lye,
With Cipresse trunks embroderd and embost,
(For Cipresse once but cut will alwayes die)
A fine conceipt, she thinks to represent,
In secret sort her inward discontent.

She tooke Astolfos horse and Goldélance,
As fittest both for this her present feat,
That speare could make the brauest knight to dance,
And caper with a […]uch beside his seate.
But where Astolfo had it, by what chance,
Or why he gaue it, need I not repeate,
She tooke it, notwithstanding her election,
Not knowing of that magicall confection.

Thus all alone without both Squire and page,
Thus furnished she set her selfe in way,
To Paris ward she traueld in a rage.
Whereas the campe of Sarzins lately lay,
And (as she thought) kept vp king Charles in cage,
Not vnderstanding how before that day,
Renaldo aiding Charles with Malageege,
Had forced them from thence to raise their seege.

Now had she left mount Dordon at her backe,
When little way behind her she descride,
A gallant Damsell following of her tracke,
A shield of gold vnto her saddle tide;
Of Squires and other servants none did lacke,
And three braue knights were riding by her side,
But of the Squires that ouertooke her last,
She askt one what those were that by her past.

And straight the worthie Ladie it was told,
How from Pole Attike that same damsell came,
Sent from a Queene, with that faire shield of gold,
Vnto king Charles (that there was knowne by fame)
But so, as he must this condition hold,
That on a knight he must bestow the same,
Such one as he in his imagination,
For prowesse deemd most worthy reputation,

For she of Island Ile that holds the raigne,
And is (and knows it) that the is most faire,
Doth thinke she should her worth not little staine,
And her great fame and honour much impaire,
It any knight her Ile and her should gaine,
Except he stood so high on honors staire,
As that he were adiudg'd in feats of warre,
The prymer man, and passing others farre.

Wherefore the cause she sends to France is this,
She thinks if she shall finde one any where,
That in the Court of France he surely is:
And therefore she doth send to greet him there.
As for those three, because you shall not misse,
To know the truth, He tell you what they were:
They were 3 kings, of whom great fame there goth,
Or Norway one, one Swethland, one of Goth.

These three, though far they dwell from Island Ile,
Yet loue of that same Queene hath brought the hither,
This Ile is calld Perduta otherwhile,
Because the seamen leese it in foule weather:
These kings hu'd from their country in exile,
And to this Queene were suters all together:
And she that knew not well how to forbid them,
With this same pretie shift from thence she rid them.

She saith, she minds to wed for her behoose,
That wight that most excels in warlike action,
And though (quoth she) you shew no little proofe,
Or valew here (as twere in priuat faction)
Yet I must haue you tride more far allofe,
Before my mind can haue full satisfaction:
Wherefore I meane my selfe and crowne to yeeld,
Alone to him that bringeth backe my sheeld.

This is the cause that these three kings did moue,
Each one to come from to remote a nation,
With purpose firme their vtmost force to proue,
To win the golden shield with reputation,
Or leese their hues, for that faire Ladies loue,
If that they failed of their expectation.
When he had told her thus, he her forsooke,
And soone his company he ouertooke.

The Damsell rode a softer pace behind,
And so as in a while she lost their sight,
And often she reuolued in her mind,
The tale the fellow told, with small delight.
She doubts this shield bestowd in such a kind,
Will be in France a cause of brall and fight,
That this wilbe a meanes she greatly feares,
To let her kin together all by th'eares.

This fancie mou'd her much, but more then this,
That formerie alouse fancie did her moue,
That her Rogeros kindnesse alterd is,
That on Marsisa he had plast his loue:
This so postest her sence that she did misse
Her way, nor neuer thought as did behoue,
Till night was almost come, and Sunne nigh set,
Where she a lodging for her selfe may get.

Eu'n as an emptie vessell that was tide,
Vnto the wharse, with some old roten cable,
If that the knot do hap to breake or slide,
So that to hold it be no longer able,
Is borne away, as please the wind and tide:
So Bradamant, with mind and thoughts vnstable,
Was in such muse, as she the right way mist,
And so was borne, where Rabicano list.

But when she saw the Sunne was almost set,
She tooke more heede, and asking of a clowne,
(A shepherd that by hap there by she met)
Where she might lodging get er Sunne went downe
The shepherd made her answer, that as yet
She was almost a league from any towne,
Or other place where she might eate or lodge,
Saue at a Castle cald sir Tristrams lodge.

But eu'rie one that list, is not assured,
Thought he do thither come, to stay therein,
To martiall feats they must be well mured.
With speare and shield they must their lodging win:
Such custome in the place hath long indured,
And manie years ago it did begin,
Wherefore tis good that one be well aduised,
Ere such an act by him be enterprised.

In briefe thus is their order, if a knight
Do finde the lodgings void, they him receaue,
With promise, that if more ariue that night,
Either he shall to them his lodging leaue,
Or elle with each of them shall proue in fight,
Which of them can of lodging to ther reaue:
If none do come that night he shall in quiet,
Haue both his horsemeat, lodging, and his diet.

If foure or fiue do come together first,
The Castle keeper them must entertaine,
Who cometh single after, hath the worst,
For if he hope a lodging there to gaine,
He must (according to that law accurst)
Fight with all those, that did therein remaine:
Likewise if one come first, and more come later,
He must go fight with them yet neare the later.

The like case is, if any maid or dame
Do come alone, or else accompanied,
Both they that first, and they that latest came,
Must by a lurie have their beauties tried:
Then shall the fairest of them hold the same,
But to the rest that come shall be denied:
Thus much the shepheard vnto her did say,
And with his finger shewd to her the way.

About three miles was distant then the place,
The damsell thither hasts with great desire;
And though that Rabicano trot apace,
Yet was the way so deepe and full of mire,
The snow and drift still beating in their face,
She later came then manners good require;
But though it were as then both darke and late,
She boldly bounced at the castle gate.

The porter told her that the lodgings all
Where fild by knights that late before them tooke,
Who now stood by the fire amid the hall,
And did ere long to haue their supper looke:
Well (answers she) then haue they cause but small
(If they be supperlesse) to thanke the cooke;
I know (quoth she) the custome, and will keepe it,
And meane to win their lodging ere I sleepe yet.

The Porter went and did her message bold,
To those great states then standing by the fire,
Who tooke small pleasure when they heard it told,
For thence to part they had so small desire;
Now chiefly when twas rainie, darke and cold;
But so their oth and order did require,
That they must do it, were it cold or warme,
And therefore quickly they themselues did arme.

These were those three great kings, whom that same day
Dame Bradamant had seene but few houres past,
Thought they had sooner finished their way,
Because she rode so soft, and they so fast.
Now when they were all armd, they make no stay,
But all on horsebacke mount themselues at last:
No doubt but few in strength these three did passe,
Yet of those few, sure one this damsell was.

Who purposd (as it seemeth) nothing lesse,
Then in so wet and in so cold a night,
To lack a lodging and sleepe supperlesse:
Now those within at windowes see the fight,
The men themselues on horsebacke do addresse,
To looke thereon, for why the Moone gaue light:
And thus at last, though first twere somewhat late,
They did abase the bridge and ope the gate.

Eu'n as a secret and lasciuious louer,
Reioyceth much, when after long delayes,
And many fearest, in which his hope did houer,
He heares at last the noise of pretie kayes:
So Bradamant that hopes now to recouer
A lodging, for the which so long she stayes,
Did in her mind in such like sort reioyce,
When as she heard the watchfull porters voyce.

Now when those Knights and some few of their traine,
Were past the bridge, the dame her horse doth turne
To take the field, and then with speed againe,
With full careere she doth on them returne,
And coucht that speare, yet neuer coucht in vaine,
For whom it hits it still doth ouerturne;
This speare her cosin, when he went from France,
Gaue vnto her, the name was Goldelance.

The valiant king of Swethland was the first
That met her, and the next the king of Goth,
The staffe doth hit them full, and neuer burst,
But from their saddles it did heaue them both;
But yet the king of Norway sped the worst,
It seemed to leaue his saddle he was loth,
His girses brake, and he fell vpside downe,
In danger with the mire to choke and drowne.

Thus with three blows, three Kings she down did beare,
And hoist their heels full hie, their heads full low,
Then enterd she the castle voyd of feare,
They stand without that night in raine and snow;
Yet ere she could get in, one causd her sweare
To keepe the custome, which they made her know;
And then the master doth to her great honor,
And entertainment great bestowed on her.

Now when the Ladie did disarme her head,
Off with her helmet came her little caul,
And all her haire her shoulders ouerspred,
And both her sex and name was knowne withall,
And wonder great and admiration bred
In them that saw her make three Princess fall:
For why she shewd to be in all their fight,
As faire in face as she was fierce in fight.

Eu'n as a stage set forth with pompe and pride,
Where rich men cost, and cunning art bestow,
When curtaines be remou'd that all did hide,
Doth make by light of torch a glittring show;
Or as the Sunne that in a cloud did bide,
When that is gone, doth clearer seeme to grow:
So Bradamant when as her head was barest,
Her colour and her beautie seemed rarest.

Now stood the guests all round about the fire.
Expecting food, with talke their eares yet feeding
While eu'ry one doth wonder and admire,
Her speech and grace, the others all exceeding;
The while her host to tell she doth desire,
From whence and whō this custom was proceeding,
That men were driu'n vnto their great disquiet,
To combat for their lodging and their diet.

Faire dame (said he) sometime there rul'd in France
King Feramont, whose sonne a comely knight,
Clodian by name, by good or euil chance,
Vpon a louely Ladie did alight:
But as we see it oftentimes doth chance,
That iealousie in loue marres mans delight;
Thus he or her in time so iealous grew,
He durst not let her go out of his vew.

Nor euer Argus kept the milkwhite cow
More straight, then Clodian here did keepe his wife,
Ten Knights eke to this place he doth allow,
Thereby for to preuent all casuall strife;
Thus hope and feare betweene, I know not how,
As he prolongs his selfe tormenting life,
The good sir Tristram thither did repaire,
And in his companie a Ladie faire.

Whom he had rescude but a little since
From Giants hand, with whom he did her find,
Sir Tristram sought for lodging with the Prince,
For then the Sunne was very low declind:
But as a horse with galled backe will wince,
Eu'n so our Clodian with as galled mind
For casting doubts and dreading eu'ry danger,
Would by no meanes be won to lodge a stranger.

When as sir Tristram long had prayd in vaine,
And still denide the thing he did demaund,
That which I cannot with your will obtaine,
In spite of you (said he) I will commaund;
I here will proue your villanie most plaine,
With launce in rest, and with my sword in hand:
And straight he challenged the combat then,
To fight with Clodian and the other ten.

Thus onely they agreed vpon the case,
If Clodian and his men were ouerthrowne,
That all then presently should voyd the place,
And that sir Tristram there should lie alone:
Sir Clodian to auoid so great disgrace,
The challenge tooke, for why excuse was none:
In fine, both Clodian and his men well knockt,
And from the castle that same night were lockt.

Triumphant Tristram to the Castle came,
And for that night, as on his owne he […]eased.
And there he saw the Princess, louely dame,
And talkt with her, who him not little pleased:
This while sir Clodian was in part with shame,
And more with thought and iealous feare diseased,
Disdaining not in humble sort to woo him,
By message mild to send his wife vnto him.

But he, though her he do not much esteeme,
For why, by meanes of an inchanted potion,
Isotta fairest vnto him did seeme,
To whom he vowed had his whole deuotion:
Yet for he did the iealous Clodian deeme
Some plague to merit, he denide his motion;
And sweares it were no manners nor no reason,
A Ladie to vnlodge at such a season.

But if (saith he) it do his mind offend,
To lie all night alone and eke abrode,
Tell him I will this other Ladie send
To him, that shall with him make her abode:
Now tell him that to keepe this I intend,
The which to win, I haue such paine bestowd;
Tis reason that the fairest should remaine
With him that is the strongest of vs twaine.

Clodian in mind was wondrous malcontent,
Vs'd so not like a Prince but like a patch,
That puffing, blowing vp and downe he went
All night, as one were set to keepe a watch:
But whether he do chase or else lament,
He found the Knight for him too hard a match.
Next day sir Tristram let him haue his wife,
And so for that time finisht was the strife.

For openly he on his honour swore,
That he her honour had that night preserued,
Although discourtesies he had before
Had at his hands a great reuenge deserued;
Yet in that Clodian had lodg'd out of dore,
He was content that penance should haue serued;
He nathelesse tooke it for no good excuse,
To say that loue was cause of such abuse.

For loue should gentle make rude hearts and base,
And not in gentle mind breed humors vile:
Now when sir Tristram parted from the place,
Sir Clodian meant to stay there but a while,
But to a knight that stood much in his grace,
He graunts the keeping of this stately pile:
Keeping one law for him and for his heires,
With eu'ry one that to the place repaires.

That namely euer he that was most strong,
Should there be lodg'd, and she that was most faire,
And that the rest should take it for no wrong,
To walke abrode into the open aire:
This is the law which hath endured long,
And no man may the strength thereof impaire:
Now while the man this storie did repeate,
The steward on the boord did set the meate.

The boord was couerd in a stately hall,
Whose match was scarce in all the country seene,
With goodly pictures drawne vpon the wall,
All round about, but chiefly on the screene;
These they did looke on, with delight not small,
And would haue quite forgot their meate I weene,
Saue that their noble host did them aduise,
To feed their bellies first, and then their eyes.

Now as they downe did at the table sit,
The master of the house began to lowre,
And said they did an error great commit,
To lodge two Ladies come in sundry howre;
Needs one must be put out, where ere it hit,
And go abrode into the cold and showre:
The fairest (sith they came not both together)
Must bide, the foulest must go trie the wether.

Two aged men and women more beside
He cald, and bad them quickly take a vew,
Which of the twaine should in the place abide,
And namely which of twaine had fairest hew:
This lurie do the matter soone decide,
And gaue their verdit, as it was most trew,
That Bradamant past her in hew as farre,
As she exceld the men in feates of warre.

Then spake the knight vnto the Island dame,
Whose mind was full of timorous suspition,
I pray you thinke it not a scorne or shame,
For hence you must, there can be no remission.
Poore Vllany (so was the damsels name)
Doth thinke she now is driu'n to hard condition,
Yet in her conscience true she knew it was,
That Bradamant in beautie her did passe.

Eu'n as we see the Sunne obscur'd sometime,
By sudden rising of a mistie cloud,
Engendred by the vapor breeding slime,
And in the middle region then embowd:
So when the damsell plainly saw that time,
Her presence in the place was not allowd,
She was so chang'd in count'nance and in cheare,
That eu'n vnlike her selfe she did appeare.

But much astonyd with the sudden passion,
She readie was to found in all their fight;
But Bradamant that would not for compassion
Permit that she should go abrode that night,
Did say, this triall was of no good fashion,
And that the iudgement hardly could be right,
When men obserue not this same chiefe regard,
As not to iudge before both parts be hard.

I, that on me do take her to defend,
Say thus, that be I faire, or lesse or more,
I came not as a woman, nor intend
As woman now to be adiugd'd therefore;
Who knowes may sex, except I condescend
To shew the same? and one should euermore
Shun to confirme things doubtfull, or deny it,
When chiefly others may be harmed by it.

Yet who can say precisely what I am?
For many men do weare their haire as long,
And you do know that as a man I came,
And all my gestures to a man belong;
Wherefore in giuing me a womans name,
To both of vs perhaps you may do wrong;
Your law points women (if their right be donne)
By women, not by warriers to be wonne.

But yet admit it were as you do guesse,
That I indeed were of the female gender,
Though that it is so, I do not confesse;
Should I to her my lodging then surrender,
If that my beautie of the two were lesse?
No sure, in that the reason were but slender:
The price that vnto vertue longs of dewtie,
Should not be tane away for want of bewtie.

And if your law were such, that needs of force,
Vnto the fairest lodging should be giuen,
Yet at this feast I tary would perforce,
And from my lodging I would not be driuen:
Wherefore mine argument I thus enforce,
That this same match betweene vs is not euen,
For striuing here with me, the case is plaine.
She much may leese, and little she may gaine.

And where the gaine and losse vnequall is,
The match is euill made in common sence:
Wherefore I thinke it were not much amisse,
With this same law for this time to dispence;
And if that any dare mislike of this,
Or seeme to take the matter in offence,
I will with sword be readie to maintaine,
That mine aduice is good, and his is vaine.

Thus noble Ammons daughter mou'd with pittie
In her behalfe, who to her great disgrace
Should haue bin sent, where neither towne nor cittie
Was neare almost in three leagues of the place,
Fram'd her defence so stout and eke so wittie,
That to her reason all the rest gaue place;
But chiefe the perill great and hazard waying,
That might haue grown to them by her gainsaying.

As when the Sunne in sommer hath most powre,
And that the ground with heate thereof is nued,
For want of raine the drie and parched flowre
Doth fade, and is as twere of life depriued,
But if in season come a fruitfull showre,
It riseth vp, and is againe reuiued:
So when the damsell this defence did heare,
She waxed faire againe, of better cheate.

And thus at last they fell vnto their feast
In quiet sort, for none did come that night,
To challenge any of them, or molest,
No traueller, nor any wandring knight;
All merry were but Bradamante least,
Fell iealousie bard her of all delight,
Her stomacke so distempting, and her tast,
She tooke no pleasure of that sweet repast.

When supper ended was, they all arise,
Although perhaps they would haue longer sate,
Saue for desire they had to feed their eyes:
And now the night was spent and waxed late,
The master of the house in seemly wise,
Doth call for torches to set out his state,
And straight with torch light filled was the hall,
But what they saw, hereafter shew I shall.