And oft in wrath he thence againe vprose;
And oft in wrath he layd him downe againe.
But wherefoeuer he did himselfe dispose,

He by no meanes could wifhed ease obtaine:
So euery place feem'd painefull, and ech changing vaine.
And euermore, when he to fleepe did thinke,
The hammers found his fenfes did moleft;
And euermore, when he began to winke,
The bellowes noyse disturb'd his quiet rest, /
Ne fuffred fleepe to fettle in his brest.
And all the night the dogs did barke and howle
About the house, at sent of stranger guest:
And now the crowing Cocke, and now the Owle
Lowde fhriking him afflicted to the very fowle.
And if by fortune any little nap

Vpon his heauie eye-lids chaunft to fall,
Eftfoones one of those villeins him did rap
Vpon his head peece with his yron mall;
That he was foone awaked therewithall,
And lightly started vp as one affrayd;
Or as if one him fuddenly did call.
So oftentimes he out of fleepe abrayd,
And then lay musing long, on that him ill apayd.

So long he muzed, and so long he lay,

That at the laft his wearie fprite opprest

With fleshly weakneffe, which no creature may
Long time refift, gaue place to kindly reft,
That all his fenfes did full foone arrest:
Yet in his foundest fleepe, his dayly feare
His ydle braine gan bufily molest,

370

380

390

And made him dreame those two difloyall were:

The thing that day moft minds, at night doe most appeare

With that, the wicked carle the maifter Smith
A paire of redwhot yron tongs did take
Out of the burning cinders, and therewith
Vnder his fide him nipt, that forft to wake,
He felt his hart for very paine to quake,
And started vp auenged for to be

On him, the which his quiet flomber brake:
Yet looking round about him none could fee;

400

Yet did the smart remaine, though he himselfe did flee.

In/fuch difquiet and hartfretting payne,

He all that night, that too long night did passe.
And now the day out of the Ocean mayne
Began to peepe aboue this earthly masse,

With pearly dew sprinkling the morning grasse :
Then vp he rose like heauie lumpe of lead,
That in his face, as in a looking glasse,

The fignes of anguish one mote plainely read,

And ghesse the man to be dismayd with gealous dread.

Vnto his lofty fteede he clombe anone,

And forth vpon his former voiage fared,
And with him eke that aged Squire attone;
Who whatsoeuer perill was prepared,
Both equall paines and equall perill shared:
The end whereof and daungerous euent
Shall for another canticle be spared.

But here my wearie teeme nigh ouer spent
Shall breath it felfe a while, after fo long a went./

1. 394, red-hot.'

410

V V

Both Scudamour and Arthegall
Doe fight with Britomart:
He fees her face; doth fall in loue,
And foone from her depart.

Hat equall torment to the griefe of mind, And pyning anguifh hid in gentle hart, That inly feeds it felfe with thoughts vnkind, And nourisheth her owne confuming fmart? What medicine can any Leaches art Yeeld fuch a fore, that doth her grieuance hide, And will to none her maladie impart?

Such was the wound that Scudamour did gride; For which Dan Phebus felfe cannot a falue prouide.

Who hauing left that reftleffe house of Care,
The next day, as he on his way did ride,
Full of melancholie and fad misfare,
Through mifconceipt; all vnawares espide
An armed Knight vnder a forreft fide,
Sitting in fhade befide his grazing steede;
Who foone as them approaching he defcride,

1. 3, : for,—accepted.

Gan towards them to pricke with eger fpeede, That feem'd he was full bent to fome mischieuous deede.

Which Scudamour perceiuing, forth issewed
To haue rencountred him in equall race;
But foone as th'other nigh approaching, vewed
The armes he bore, his speare he gan abase,
And/voide his courfe: at which fo fuddain cafe
He wondred much. But th'other thus can say;
Ah gentle Scudamour, vnto your grace
I me submit, and you of pardon pray,
That almost had against you trefpaffed this day.

Whereto thus Scudamour, Small harme it were
For any knight, vpon a ventrous knight
Without displeasance for to proue his spere.
But reade you Sir, fith ye my name haue hight,
What is your owne, that I mote you requite?
Certes (fayd he) ye mote as now excuse
Me from difcouering you my name aright:
For time yet ferues that I the fame refuse,
But call ye me the Saluage Knight, as others vse.

Then this, Sir Saluage Knight (quoth he) areede;
Or doe you here within this forrest wonne,
That feemeth well to anfwere to your weede ?
Or haue ye it for fome occafion donne?
That rather feemes, fith knowen armes ye shonne.
This other day (fayd he) a stranger knight
Shame and dishonour hath vnto me donne ;

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40

1. 25, 'r'encountred' : 1. 27, . for, (had): 1. 37, ? for, but I place after ' requite,' not after 'owne': 1. 44 within ( ).

On whom I waite to wreake that foule defpight, When euer he this way shall paffe by day or night. 50

Shame be his meede (quoth he) that meaneth shame. But what is he, by whom ye shamed were?

A ftranger knight, fayd he, vnknowne by name, But knowne by fame, and by an Hebene speare, With which he all that met him, downe did beare. He in an open Turney lately held,

Fro me the honour of that game did reare ;
And hauing me all wearie earst, downe feld,
The fayrest Ladie reft, and euer fince withheld./

When Scudamour heard mention of that speare,
He wift right well, that it was Britomart,
The which from him his faireft loue did beare.
Tho gan he fwell in euery inner part,
For fell defpight, and gnaw his gealous hart,
That thus he sharply fayd; Now by my head,
Yet is not this the firft vnknightly part,

бо

Which that fame knight, whom by his launce I read,

Hath doen to noble knights, that many makes him dread.

For lately he my loue hath fro me reft,

And eke defiled with foule villanie

The facred pledge, which in his faith was left,

In fhame of knighthood and fidelitie;

The which ere long full deare he shall abie.

And if to that auenge by you decreed

This hand may helpe, or fuccour ought supplie,
It shall not fayle, when so ye shall it need.

So both to wreake their wrathes on Britomart agreed.

70