The most pleasant history of Tom a Lincolne that renowned souldier, the Red-rose Knight, who for his valour and chivalry, was surnamed the boast of England. Shewing his honourable victories in forraigne countries, with his strange fortunes in the Fayrie land: and how he married the faire Anglitora, daughter to Prester Iohn, that renowned monarke of the world. Together with the lives and deathes of his two famous sonnes, the Blacke Knight, and the Fayrie Knight, with divers other memorable accidents, full of delight.

The Pleasant Historie of TOM A LINCOLNE, the RED-ROSE Knight: for his valour and Chiualrie, surnamed the Boast of England. (Book 1)

CHAPTER. 1. How King Arthur loued faire Angellica the Earle of Londons Daughter: and likewise of the birth of Tom a Lincolne.

WHEN as King ARTHVR wore the Emperiall Diadem of England, and by his chiualrie had purchased ma∣ny famous Uictories, to the great re∣nowne of this mayden Land, hee or∣deined the order of the round Table, and selected many worthy Knights to attend his Maiestie: of whose gliste∣ring renowne many ancient Histo∣ries doe record, and witnesse to all insuing ages.

This worthy Prince, vpon a time intending to visit the city of London, with some few number of his Knights, came and feasted with Androgius, being at that time Earle of London; whose house (as then) was not only replenished with most de∣licate fare, but grat••st with a number of beautifull Ladyes: who gaue such a pleasing entertainement to King Arthur and his Knights, that they were rauished with pleasure, and

quite forgot the sound of martiall Drummes, that had wont to summon them foorth to the fields of Honour: Amongst these glorious troupes of London Ladyes, Angellica the Earles daughter had the chiefest prayse for beauty and courtly beha∣uiour: for euen as the siluer-shining Moone in a Winters fr••sty night, surpasseth the brightest of the twinckling Stars: ••o farre Angellicaes sweete feature excéeded the rest of the La∣dyes: whereby King Arthur was so intangled in the snares of loue, that by no meanes he could withdraw his affections from her diuine excellence. He that before delighted to tread a wea∣ry m••rch after Bellonas Drummes, was now constrayned to trace Cupids Measures in Ladyes Chambers: and could as well straine the strings of a Louers Lute, as sound a Souldi∣ers alarme in the field: her beauty like the Adamant, drew his stéeled heart to lodge in the closure of her breast: and no compa∣ny delighted so much the loue-sicke King, as the presence of faire Angellica. So vpon a time as hee stood looking out of his Chamber window, hee espied the Mistris of his soule sitting in a Garden vnder a Bower of Uines, prettily picking the ripest Grapes with her delicate hands, and tooke such pleasant pains in that maydenlike exercise, that the well coloured blood in her face began to ware warme, and her chéekes to obtaine such an excellent beauty, that they séemed like two purple Roses in∣termixt with Hawthorne-buds: whereby King Arthur grew inamored vpon her, and stood for a time sencelesse through the extreame passion he tooke in beholding her be••uty: But at last, recouering his senses, he spake to himselfe in this manner.

Oh most diuine Angellica, Natures sole wonder, thou ex∣cellent ornament of Beauty, thy louely Face painted with a crimson die, thy rosicall Chéekes surpassing Snow in white∣nesse, thy decent Necke like purest Iuory, hath like a Fowlers net intangled my yéelding heart: whereby it is for euermore imprisoned in thy breast. Oh that the golden Dresses of thy dainty Haire which shine like the Rubyes, glittering in the Sunne, had neuer twinckled before my rauisht eyes, then had my heart inioyed his wonted liberty, and my Fancie béen frée from Louers vaine imaginations. Thus, and in like manner, complayned the King vnto himselfe, séeking by all meanes

possible to exclude Loues fire from his breast. But the more hee stroue to abando•• it, the more it increased: and féeling no pollicie might preuaile; but that this burning torment must of force bee quenched with her celestiall loue hee descended from his Chamber, and went bouldly into the Garden; where taking Angellica by the hand as shée sate vpon a bed of Uiolets, which as then grew vnder the Arbour, in this manner began to court her.

Faire of all faires, (sayd the King) deuine and beautious Paragon faire Flower of London, know that since my aboad in thy Fathers house, thy beauty hath so conquered my affecti∣ons, and so bereaued me of my liberty, that vnlesse thou vouch∣safe to coole my ardent desires with a willing graunt of thy loue, I am like to dye a lan••uishing death, and this Countrey England of force must l••ose him, that hath filde her boundes with many triumphant Uictories: therefore swéet Angellica, if thy hard heart be so obdurate, that the teares of my true loue may nothing molliffe, yet take pitty on thy Countrey, that through thy cruelty, she loose not her wanton glory, and be made vnhappy, by the losse of her Soueraigne: thou séest (my di∣uine Angellica) how I, that haue made Princes stoope, and Kings to humble when I haue frownde, doe now submissiuely yéeld my high honour to thy feete, either to be made happy by thy loue, or vnhappy in thy hate, that in time to come, Children may either blesse, or cu••se thee: Of these two, consider which thou wilt performe either with cruelty to kill mee or with cle∣mencie to pre••eiue mee.

This vnexpected request of the King, so amazed Angellica, that her Cheeks were ••tayned with blushing shame, and like a bashfull Maiden (for a time) stood silent not knowing in what manner to answere him, considering hee was King of England, and she but Daughter to an Earle: But at last, when feare and shame had a while stroue together in her heart, shee replyed in this sort.

Most mighty King (said shee) if your entertainement in my Fathers house hath beene honourable, séeke not the foule disho∣nour of his Daughter, nor proffer to blemish the bud of her virginitie with the least thought of your vnchast desires: the

losse of which swéet Iemme, is a torment to my soule more worse then death. Consider with your selfe (most worthy Prince) the blacke scandall that it may bring vnto your name and honour, hauing a Quéene a most vertuous and loyall Prin∣cesse. Thinke vpon the staine of your mariage bed, the wrongs of your wedded phéere, and lasting infamie of your owne glo∣••ie, for this I vow (by Dianaes bright maiesty) before I will y••••ld the conquest of my virginitie to the spoyle of such vnchast desires, I will suffer more torments, then mans heart can ima∣gine: therefore (most mighty Soueraigne) cease your vnreue∣rend suite, for I will not loose that matchlesse Iewell, for all the treasure the large Ocean containes: And in speaking these words shée departed thence, and left the loue-sicke King in the Arthur, complaining to the emptie ayre: where after hée had numbred many determinations together, this hee purposed; Neuer to cease his suite, till he had gained what his soule so much desired: for continually at the break of day, when ••irans beautie began to shine, and Auroraes blush to appears. would hee alwayes send to her Chamber window the sweetest Mu∣sicke that could bée deuised: thinking thereby so obtaine her Loue. Many times would hee solicite her with rich gifts, and large promises, befitting rather an Empresse then the Daugh∣ter of an Earle, profering such kindnes, that if she had a heart of Iron, yet could shee not choose but relent and requite his curtesies: for what is it that time will not accomplish, hauing the hand of a King set thereunto.

Twelue wearydayes King Arthur spent in woing of An∣gellica, before hee could obtaine his hearts happinesse, and his soules content: at the end of which time, she was as plyant to his will, as is the tender twig to the hand of the Husbandman. But how their secret meaning required a pollicie to keepe their priuie leues both from King Arthurs Quéene, and from old Androgius, Angellicas Father: and that their secret ioyes might long time continue without mistrust of any partie whatsoeuer, this deuice they contriued: that Angellica should desire liberty of her Father, to spend the remaine of her life in the seruice of Diana, like one that a bandoned all earthly vani∣tie, honouring true chastity and religious life: So, with a

den••ure countenance, and a sober grace, shee went vnto her Father, and obtained such leaue at his hands, that he willingly condiscended that shee should liue as a professed Nunne, in a Monasterie that the King before time had builded in the Citie of Lincolne; and so furnishing her foorth with such necessaries as her state required, he gaue her his blessing, and so committed her to Dianaes seruice.

But now Angellica being no sooner placed in the Monastery and chosen a Sister of that fellowship, but King Arthur many times visited her in so secret a manner, and so disguisedly, that no man suspected their pleasant méetings: but so long tasted they the ioyes of loue, that in the end the Nunne grew great bellied, and bore King Arthurs quittance sealed in her wombe, and at the end of forty wéekes, shée was deliuered; where in presence of the Midwife, & one more whom the King largly recompen∣ced for their secrecy, shee was made a happy Mother of a goodly sonne, whom King Arthur caused to be wrapped in a Mantle of gréene Silke, tying a Purse of Gold about his necke, and so causing the Midwife to beare it into the Fields, and to lay it at a Shepheards gate néere adioyning to the Citie, in hope the old man should foster it as his own: by which means his Angellicaes dishonour might be kept secret from the world, and his owne disgrace from the murmuring reports of the vulgar people.

This his commandement was so spéedily performed by the Midwife, that the very next morning she stole the young Infant from his Mothers kéeping, and bore it secretly to the place ap∣pointed, there laying it downe vpon a turffe of gréene grasse: if séemed prettily to smile, turning his christall eyes vp towards the Elements, as though it foreknew his owne good Fortune. This being done, the Midwife withdrew her selfe some little distance from that place, and hid her selfe closely behind a well growne Oake, diligently marking what should betide the com∣fortlesse Infant: But long shee had not there remained, but there flocked such a number of little Birdes about the young harmelesse Babe, and ma••e such a chirping melody, that it fell into a silent slumber, and slept as swéetly as though it had béen layde in a Bed of softest Silke.

By this time, the golden Sunne began to glister on the

Mountaine top, and his sister Luna to withdraw her waterish countenance: at which time, the pleasant Shepheards began to tune their Morning notes, and to repayre vnto their foulded Shéepe, according to their woonted manner: Amongst which crue of lusty Swaines, old Antonio approached foorth of his Gate with a chearefull countenance, whose Beard was as white as polished Siluer, or like to Snow lying vpon the Nor∣therne Mountaines: this bonny Shepheard no sooner espied Angelic••es swéet Babe lying vpon the gréene Hillocke, but immediatly hee tooke it vp; and viewing circumspectly euery parcell of the rich Uestments wherein it was wrapped, at last found out the Purse of Gold which the King had tyed vnto the Childs necke, whereat the Shepheard so exceedingly reioyced, that for the time, he stoode as a man rauished with pleasure, and was not able to remoue from the place where he stood: but yet at the last, thinking with himselfe that Heauen had sen•• him that good fortune, not onely giuing him Riches, but withall a Sonne, to be a comfort to him in his latter yeares; so bearing it in to his old Wife, and withall the Purse of Gold, and the rich Mantle, with the other things: who at the sight thereof, was as highly pleased as her Husband, when he found it first: so being both agréed to foster and bring it vp as their own, con∣sidering that Nature neuer gaue them in all their life any child, incontinently they caused it to be thristened, and called by the name of TOM A LINCOLNE; (after the Towne where it was found) a name most fitting for it, in that they knew not whom were his true Parents.

But now speake wee againe of the Midwife, that after shée had beheld how kindly old Antonio receiued the young Infant, shée returned backe unto Angelicaes Chamber, whom shee found bitterly lamenting the losse of her tender Babe, thinking that some Fayry Nimph had s••olne it away: but such was the kind comfort which the smooth tonged Midwife gaue her in that extremity, whereby her sorrow seemed the lesse, and her mistrust∣full feare exchanged into smiling hope: yet neither would the King nor the Midwife at any time whatsoeuer, make knowne vnto her what was become of her little Sonne, but driuing her off with delayes and fond excuses, lest hauing intelligence of

his abo••d, she should (through kinde loue, and naturall affection) goe visite him, and so discouer their Loues practises.

Thus liued the most fayre Angelica many dayes in great griefe, wishing his returne, and desiring Heauen that the De∣stinies might be so fauourable, that once againe before the fa∣tall Sisters had finished her life, she might behold her Infants face: for whose presence her very soule thirsted for.

Here will we leaue the solitary Lady comfortlesse and with∣out company (except it were the King, that sometimes visited herby stealth) and report what happened to Tom a Lincolne in the Shepheards house.

CHAP. II. Of the manner of Tom a Lincolnes bringing vp, and how he first came to be called the Red-rose Knight: with other things that hapned to him.

GReat was the wealth that old Antonio gathered together, by meanes of the Treasure hee found about the Infants attire, whereby hee became the richest in all that Country, and purchast such Lands and Liuings, that his supposed Sonne (for wealth) was déemed a fit match for a Knights Daughter: Yet for all this his bringing vp was but meane, and in a homely sort; (for after he had passed ten yeares of his age hee was set to kéepe Antonioes Shéepe, and to follow Husbandry, whereby he grew strong and hardy, and continual∣ly gaue himselfe to painefull endeauours, imagining and deui∣sing haughty and great enterprises: yet notwithstanding was of honest and vertueus conditions, well featured, valiant, actiue, quick and nimble, sharpe witted, and of a ripe iudgement: hée was of a valiant and inuincible courage, so that from his Cra∣dle and infancie, it séemed he was vowed to Mars, and martiall exploits. And in his life and manners is dec••phered the Image of true Nobilitie: for though hee ob••curely liued in a Countrey Cottage, yet had he a superious mind, aiming at state and maie∣stie,

bearing in his breast the princely thoughts of his Father. For on a time keeping Cattell in the Field amongst other yong men of his age and condition, he was chosen (in sport by them) for their Lord or Knight, and they to attend on him like dutifull Seruants: and although this their election was but in play, yet he whose spirits were rauished with great and high matters, first, procuted them to sweare to him loyalty in all things; and to obey him as a King, where, or when it should please him in any matter to command them: to which they all most willingly condescended. Thus after they had solemnly taken their oathes, he perswaded them to leaue that base and seruile kinde of life, séeking to serue in Warre, and to follow him, being the Gene∣rall: the which through perswasion they did, and so leauing their Cattell to their Fathers and Masters, they assembled all together, to the full number of a hundred at the least: vnto whom he seuerally gaue certaine Red Roses, to be worne for colours in their Hattes, and commanded them, that euer after hee should be called the Red-rose Knight. So in this manner departed he with his followers vnto Barnsedale Heath, where they pitched vp Tents, and liued long time vpon the robberies and spoyles of passengers, in so much that the whole Country were greatly molested by them.

This disordered life so highly displeased the Parents of these vnruly Outlawes, that many of them died with griefe: but especially of all other, old Antonio tooke it in ill part, consi∣dering how dearely hee lou••d him, and how tenderly hee had brought him vp from his infancy: therefore he purposed to prac∣tise a meane to call him from that vnciuill kinde of life, if it might possible be brought to passe: so in his old dayes vnder∣taking this tasking, hee trauelled towards Barnsedale Heath: into which being no sooner entred, but some of the ruder sort of these Outlawes ceased vpon the old man, and without any fur∣ther violence, brought him before their Lord and Captain: who at the first sight knew him to be his Father (as he thought) and therefore vsed him most kindly, giuing him the best entertaine∣ment that hee could deuise: where, after they had some small time conferred together, the good old man brake out into these spéeches.

Oh thou degenerate (quoth he) from natures kind: Is this thy duty to thy fathers age, thus disobediently to liue, ••••cun∣ding thy naturall Countrey with vnlawfull spoyles? Is this the comfort of mine age: is this thy loue vnto thy Parents, who••e tender care hath béen euer to aduance thy estate: Canst thou behold these milke-white Hayres of mine all to rent and torne, which I haue violently martyred in thy absence? Canst thou indure to see my dim Eyes almost sightlesse through age, to droy downe Teares at thy disobedient féete? Oh wherefore hast thou infringed the Lawes of Nature, thus cruelly to kill thy fathers heart with griefe, and to end his dayes by thy viti∣••u•• life? Returne, returne deare Child, banish from thy breast these base actions, that I may lay, I haue a vertuous Sonne: and be not like the viperous brood, that workes the vntimely death of their Parents. And speaking these words, griefe so excéeded the bounds of Reason, that hee stood silent, and begin∣ning againe to speake, teares trickled from his eyes in such a∣bundance, that they stayed the passage of his spéech: the which being perceiued by the Red-rose Knight, he humbly sell vpon his knées, and in this sort spake vnto good Antonio.

Most deare and reuerent Lather, if my offence doe séeme o∣dious in your eyes, that I deserue no forgiuenesse, then here be∣hold now your poore inglorious Sonne, laying his breast open, ready prepared to receiue Deaths remorselesse stroke from your aged hands, as a due punishment for this my disobedient crime: but to be reclaimed from this honorable kind of life (I count it honourable, because it taketh of manhood), first shall the Sun bring day from out the Westerne Heauens, & the siluer Moone lodge her brightnesse in the Easterne waues, and all things else against both kind and nature turne their wonted ••••urse.

Well then (quoth Antonio) if thy resolution bee such, that neither my bitter teares, nor my faire int••••aties may preuaile to withdraw thy vaine folly, then know (then most vngratious impe) that thou art no Sonne of mine, but sprung from the bowels of some vntanted Tyger, or wild Li••nesse, el••e wouldst thou humbly submit thy selfe to my reuerent perswasions; from whence thou camest I know not, but sure thy breast harbours the tyranny of some monstrous Tyrant, from whose ••oynes

thou art naturally descended. Thou art no fruite of my body for I found thee (in thy infancy) lying in the Fields, cast out as a prey for rauening Fowles, ready to bee deuowred by hunger∣starued Dogges: but such was my pitty towards thée, that I tooke thee vp and euer since haue fostered thee as mine owne Child: but now, such is thy vnbridled folly, that my kind curte∣sie is requited with extreame ingratitude; which sinne aboue all others, the immortall powers of Heauen doe condemne, and the very Diuels themselues doe hate: therefore like a Serpent, henceforth will I spit at thee, and neuer cease to make incessant prayers to the iustfull Heauens, to reuenge this thy monstrous disobedience.

These words being ended, hee gaue such an extreame sigh, that his very heart brake with griefe, and hee immediatly dyed in the presence of the Red-rose Knight, For whose death, hee made more sorrowfull lamentation, then Niobe did for her seuen Sonnes. But in recompence of old Antonioes kind loue, that preserued his infancie from the fury of rauenous Fowles, he intombed him most stately in the Citie of Lincolne, whose body he sent thither by certaine Passengers whom hee had taken, and withall a thousand pound in treasures, to be be∣stowed vpon a great Bell to bee rung at his Funerall: which Bell hee caused to bee called Tom a Lincolne after his owne name, where to this day it remaineth in the same Citie: These Passengers being as then rich Merchants of London hauing receiued the dead body of old Antonio, and withall the trea∣sure, went with all speed vnto Lincolne, and performed euery thing as the Red-rose Knight had appointed.

The death of this good old man not onely caused a generall sorrow through the whole Citie, but stroke such an extreame griefe to old Antonioes wife, that shee within few dayes yeel∣ded her life to the remorcelesse stroke of the frowning destinies, and was buried in the same graue where her Husband was in∣tombed: Whose deaths we will now leaue to be mourned by their dearest friends, and likewise for breuities sake, passe ouer many stratagems which were accomplished by the Red-rose Knight & his followers vpon Barnsedale Heath, and returne to King Arthur & his Knights, flourishing in the English Court.

CHAP. III. Of the first Conquest of Portingale by the Red-rose Knight, and how hee was the first that euer triumphed in the Citie of London.

THe report of Tom a Lincolnes practises grew so generall amongst the vulgar sort of people, that at last it came to King Arthurs eares, who imagined in his Princely minde, that he was sprung of his bloud, and that hee carried lofty thoughts of honour planted in his brest, though shrowded vnder a Countrey life: therefore, through kinde nature, hee purposed to haue him resident in Court with him, that hee might daily sée his liuely sparkes of honour shew their resplendant brightnesse, yet in such obscurity, that hee should not know the smallest motion of his Parentage; therefore hee called together thrée of his appr••ued Knights, namely Lancelot du Lake, Sir Tristram and Sir ••••••amore, and gaue them in charge, if it were possible, to fetch the Red-rose Knight vnto his Court, of whose aduenturous exployts hée hath heard so many times reported: and withall he gaue them generall Pardon, sealed with his priuie Seale, for him and all his lawlesse followers.

This Commission beeing receiued by the three worthie Knights, they with all spéede armed themselues in rich Corse∣lets, and strong habiliments of Warre, and so rode towards Bransedale H••a••h where being no sooner come, and deliuered their message from the King, but the Red-rose Knight gaue them an honourable welcome, and for thrée dayes most royally feasted them vnder large Canuasse Tents▪ wherein they slept as se∣curely, as they had béene in King Arthurs Court, or in a strong Castle of warre.

After this, Tom a Lincolne selected out a hundred of his re∣solute Followers, such as he best liked of, and came with Sir Lancelot, and the rest to the English Court; where King Arthur

not onely gaue him a friendly entertainment, but also installed him one of his Knights of the Round-table: and withall pre∣claimed a solemne Turniament, that should be h••lden in the ho∣nour of this new made Knight: to which Turniament, assem∣ble▪ from other Countries, many Princes, Barons, & Knights of high honour, which behaued themselues most nobly, and woon great commendations of euery beholder: but especially the Red-rose Knight, who for that day, stood as chiefe Champion against all commers. In that Turniament, or first dayes deede of his Knighthood, where onely by his valour and prowesse hee ouer∣threw thrée Kings, and thirty other Knights, all famouzed for Chiualry: whereby he obtained such grace in the English Court, that he had by the King a paire of golden Spurres put vpon his féet▪ and generally of the whole assembly, he was accounted one of the brauest Knights that then liued in the world.

But now marke, how frowning Fortune ended their Tri∣umphes with vnlucky Newes: for the same day before the Knights had vnbuckled their Armours, there arriued a Mes∣senger, who certified King Arthur, how his Ambassadour was vniustly done to death in the Portingale Court, (which was an Act contrary both to the Faith of Princes, and the Law of Armes:) For whose death King Arthur grew so enraged, that he sware by the Honour of his bright Renowne, and by the gol∣den Spurre of true Knighthood, the Portingales should repent that inhumane violence, with the death of many thousand guilt∣lesse soules; and that Babes vnborne, should haue iust cause to curse the first contriuer of that vniust murther: therefore with all spéede hée mustered vp a mighty Armie of Souldiers, and (because hee was continually molested with home-bred Muti∣nies, and treacherous rebellions, the which himselfe in person of force must pacifie) appointed the Red-rose Knight as chiefe Generall ouer the Armie mustered for Portingale. In which Seruice, hée accomplished so many famous Exployts, that hee was for euer after surnamed, The Boast of England. For no sooner had hée the whole Campe in charge, and aboard their Shippes, but hee prooued the perfect Patterne of an exquisi••e Souldier: such a one, as all martiall Captaines may learne to imitate: for hée so circumspectly ordered his Captaines, that

in his Campe was neuer knowne any brawle or mu••••nie. ••e was very courteous and liberall, doing honour to all men ac∣cording to their deserts. He so painfully and with such care in∣structed his Souldiers, that at an instant alwayes (if it were needfull) euery man by the sound of a Drumme or a Trumpet, was found in his Charge and Quarter. And (to be briefe) his Campe resembled one of the greatest Cities in the world, for all kind of officers were there found in order: and also a great number of Merchants to furnish it with all manner of necessa∣ryes. Hee 〈◊〉〈◊〉 case permitted any robberies, priuy fighting, force, or violence: but with seuerity punished those that were therein found guiltie. His desire was, that his Souldiers should glory in nothing so much, as in Martiall prowesse, Uer∣tue, and Wisedome. He euermore gaue them their pay with∣out fraud or deceit. He honoured, he praysed, he imbrac'd and kist them, and withall kept them in awe and subiection: by which meanes his fame and honour grew so renowned, that his Army dayly encreased more and more. For when he first arri∣ued vpon the Confines of Portingale, his Campe grew to bee as great as euer was Caesars, when he conquered the Western World, and in matchlesse pro••••esse nothing inferiour vnto his. So fortunate were his proceedings, that he made a great part of the Prouinces of Portingale desolate not being intercepted by any, but poyling euery Towne and Citie as hee went, vn∣till such time a•• the Portingale King had gathered together a marueilous number os Souldiers, both olde, and of much ex∣perience, by reason of the continuall Warres that they had with the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Nation adioyning néere vnto them: But when this Portingale King (like an expert Souldier) séeing that no way he might resist the English Army, nor expell them his Countrey, vnlesse he gaue them present Battaile, therefore trusting in his approued Manhood, and the prowesse of his Souldiers, he set his Army in a readinesse and so marched for∣ward to méet the Red-rose Knight, and his warlike followers, which at that time had pitched his Campe in a large Cham∣pion Plaine, adioyning néere vnto the Citie of ••••shborne, whereas both these Armies met: and setting them in order (as it became good Captaines) there they began (in the breake of

the day) she most cruell and terriblest Battle that euer was heard of, or fought in that age, considering the number of both parties, their experience and pollicy, with the valiant courage and prowesse of their Captaines.

In great danger continued this fight, till the Sun beganne to set, with marueilous ••laughter on both sides; yet remayned the victory doubtfull, declining neither to the Portingales, nor yet to the English: but at last (though long) the Portingales began to saint and flie; more indeed opprest with she multitude then for any feare they receiued in the Eatte•••• for the most part of them with honour dyed manfully in the Field, some ta∣ken prisoners, and the rest fled for their better safety: but now the Portingale King perceiuing his Souldiers begin to flye, with courage hee sought to withdraw them from flight, resisted in person valiantly the furious rage of the enemy: but in that enterprise he gained such and so many knockes, that at last he•• was vnhorst, and for want of reskew, was forst to yéeld him∣selfe as prisoner: whereat the whole armie of the Portingales were discomforted, and the victory fell to the Englishmen: the which being obtayned, the Red-rose Knight with his Armie entred into the Citie of Lishborne; where the common Soul∣diers were inriched with wealthy spoyles, and the Kings Pal∣lace ran••acked by the Red-rose Knight: where hée tooke such prisoners as him best liked, and the rest (like an honorable soul∣dier) he set at liberty, commaunding that no violence should be proffered any way:

After this, setting his Army in a readinesse, he marched to∣wards England, where after some few dayes 〈◊〉〈◊〉, hee arri∣ued with all his Ho••st, in the Westerne parts of Deuonshire, and marching towards London, where against his comming, the Citizens with the Inhabitants of other villages néere ad∣ioyning, were that day séene in their most sumptucus and rich attire, euery one of them endeauoring to place himselfe in some Gallery or Window, that the better and with more ease they might behold the triumphant returne of the Red-rose Knight. All the Churches in London were on euery side set open, han∣ged round about with most costly forniture: the stréetes were also most gloriously beset with gréene Boughes, and strowed

with Perfumes of no small value: and for the infinite multi∣tude of people that were séene in the Citie, there were appoin∣ted a hundred Whiflers most richly attyred to kéepe the stréets plaine and open, whereby the triumphs might haue the easier passage: and for that the diuersity of the shewes were so many, that they of necessitie were constrained to part them into three seuerall dayes.

The first day hardly sufficed in good order to bring in the Banners, Standards, and Ensignes of the Conqueror, the gol∣den Images, and Tables of price, which were all brought in on C••rts very curiously painted and trimmed.

On the second day, came in the Armour of the Conquered King, as also of all the other Portingale Lords: and as they were rich, bright, and glittering, so were they with most cun∣ning ordered and couched in waggons. After these entred thrée thousand men, in order, bearing nothing but Money openly to b••e seene, and that in huge Platters and Uessels of Siluer; of which were thrée hundred and fiftie in number, and foure of our men allotted to euery vessell: the other brought in most ar∣tificiall Tapestry works, beautified with gold and siluer. And thus was the second dayes Triumph ended, in most pompous s••lemnitie.

Upon the third day, euen at the rising of the Sunne, with the first Band, entred (as a ioyfull sound of Conquest) an infi∣nite number of Flutes, Drummes, and Trumpets, with other like Martiall and Warlike Instruments, sounding not after a most pleasant and swéet manner, but in most terrible sort, as it was possible to be done, euen in such order as they doe, when they presently ioyne Battaile. And after them, came a hun∣dred and twentie Kine all white, hauing their Hornes curi∣ously gilded with Gold, their bodies couered with Uayles, (which they accompted most sacred and holy) bearing also Garlands of Flowers vpon their Heads, driuen by certaine young Gentlemen, no lesse well fauoured then gorgeously at∣t••red. After these, followed the Coach of the conquered King of Portingale, with his owne Armour layd thereon openly to bée séene of all men: his Crowne and royall Scepter was layd in seemely order vpon his Armour. After his Coach,

came Prisoners on foot, with his owne naturall Children, being little Infants: and after them followed a great Troup of his Seruants and Officers, as Masters of his Housheuld, Secretaries, Ushers, Controlers, Chamberlaines, with other Gentlemen of his Court, all in a most sorowfull manner, seeing themselues brought into such extremitie and seruitude, that they mooued to companion all such as beheld them. Of the Kings children, there were two Boyes, and one Girle, of age so young and tender, that they had small vnderstanding of their misfortune and misery.

In this triumph followed the Father his owne Children, (after the vsage of his Countrey) clad in black mourning gar∣ments, sorrowing likewise for his hard misfortune. Then followed sundry of his approoued Friends: which, beholding in that plight their vnhappy Prince, brake cut into teares and sighes so bitterly, that their enemies themselues grieued at their mishaps.

After these, followed one which carryed certaine precious Stones, that had béen presented to the Red-rose Knight, from some ancient Cities in Portingale, who immediatly followed in person triumphantly in his Iuory Chariot, apparelled in vestures of purple Tissue, hauing a Lawrell bough in his hand, and a Crowne of the same vpon his Head. After him, followed his owne Souldiers, both foot-men, and Horse-men, all march∣ing in most decent order, armed with rich Furniture, holding also each of them a Lawrell bough in his hand, their Ensignes and Banners Souldier-like displayed, sounding Martiall Me∣lody in honour of their triumphant Captain: with many other like presidents, most royall and magnificent.

Thus in this gallant order marched they to the Kings Chappell, where in the presence of the King and his Lords, (which came to honour and grace their Triumphs) they gaue thanks to God for their succesfull victory: were after solemne Seruice was ended, they departed to King Arthurs Court, where euery one, as well Strangers as others, were most roy∣ally feasted.

The Portingale King séeing his kind entertainement in the English Court, where he was vsed more like a Friend, then an

Enemie, had small care to returne home, but ••rolik'd many a day amongst the English Lords: whose loues vnto strangers be euermore most honourable. But so great were the courtesies that the Noble King Arthur bestowed vpon the Portingales, who for their proffered disgraces, requited them liberally with honour: and not onely sent them home ransomlesse, but promi∣sed to lend them ayde and succour from England, if occasion re∣quired: So bearing them company to the Sea side, hee most friendly committed them to the mercy of the winds and waues, which were so fauourable, that in short time they arriued safe in their owne Country; where many a day after they remembred the honourable kindnesse of the English-men, and caused the Chronicles of Portingale to record the renowne of King Ar∣thur, and hi•• ••••••••••ts of the Round Table.

CHAP. IIII. How the Red-rose Knight trauelled from the King of Englands Court, and how he arriued in the Fayerie-land, where he was entertained by a Mayden Queene, and what happened to him in the same Country.

NOw, after the Portingales were thus con∣quered, and sent home with great honour, the English King and his Lordes, rested themselues many a day in the Bowers of Peace, leau••ng their Armours rusting, and their pampered Steedes standing in their Sca••les, forgetting their vsuall manner of wrathfull warre: which idle ease greatly discontented the magnanimious Red-rose Knight, who thought it a staine to his passed glory, and a scandall to his Princely mind to entertaine such base thoughts: and considering with himselfe how ignorant hee was of his true Parents, and from whence hee was descended, hee could not imagine: therefore hee purposed to begin a new enterprise, and to trauaile vp and downe the World, till hee had either

found his Father and Mother, or else yéelded his life to Na∣tures courle in that pretended Journey: so going to the King, (full little thinking that he was sprung from so Noble a stock) crauing at his Graces hand, to graunt him such liberty, for to try his Knight-hood in forraine Countries, whereas yet did ne∣uer Englishman make his aduenture; and so eternize his name to all posterity, rather then to spend his life in such home-bred practises.

To this his honourable request, the King (though loath to forgoe his company, yet because it belonged to Knightly At∣tempts) hee gaue him leaue, and withall, furnished him a Shippe at his owne proper cost and charges, giuing free Li∣cence to all Knights whatsoeuer, to beare him company: a∣mongst which number, Sir Launcelor du Lake was the chie∣fest that proferred himselfe to that Uoyage, who protested such loue to the Red-rose Knight, that they plighted their Faiths like sworne Brothers, and to liue and die together in all ex∣treamities.

So these two English Knights, with the number of a hun∣dred more, all resolute Gentlemen, tooke leaue of the King, and with all spéede went a Ship-boord: wherein being no s••••∣ner entred, but the Pylot hoysed Sayle and di••an••hored, and so committed their liues and Fortunes to the pleasure of Nep∣tunes mercie: vpon whose 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Kingdome the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 ma∣ny dayes sayled, but Ae••••us brazen gates ••u••st open, and the Windes so violently troubled the swelling waues, that euery minute they were in danger, to end their liues in the bottome of the Seas.

Thrée moneths the winde and the waters stroue together for supremacie: during which time, they sawe no land, but were driuen vp and downe, to what place the euer-changing Deste∣nies listed: so at last they sayled beyond the Sunne, directed on∣ly by the light of the Starres, not knowing which way to tra∣uell towards land, but in such extrenity for want of Uictuall, that they were forced to land at a certaine Iland in the We∣sterne parts of the world, inhabited onely by women: where being no sooner on land, and giuing God thanks for deliuering them from that mortall perill, but the Red-rose Knight cast vp

his eyes towards the higher parts of the Countrey, and espied more then two thousand women comming foorth at a Citie gate, all most richly armed with Breast-plates of Siluer, marching in trim aray, like an Army of well approoued Souldiers: the which number comming néere to the Sea side, they sent two of their Damsels, as Messengers to the English Knights, willing them, as they loued their liues, presently to retire againe back to the Seas, for that was no Countrey for their abode. But when the Red-rose Knight of England had vnderstoode the hold message of the two Damsels, he was sore abashed (considering the number of armed women he saw before him, and the great dangers they had suffered before on the Sea for want of v••••••u∣als) that he knew not in what manner he were best to answere them: but hauing a good courage, hee at last spake to the two Damsels in this sort.

Right Noble Ladies, I haue well vnderstood your spéeches: therefore I desire you for to shew such fauour vnto wandering Trauailers, as to tell vs in what Country Fortune hath brought vs to: and for what cause we are commanded by you to returne to the Sea?

Surely Sir Knight (answered one of the Damsels) this Countrey whereon you are ariued, it is not very bigge, but yet most fertile and commodious; and is called by the name of the Fayrie-Land: And now to shew you the cause why you are commaunded to returne, this it is. Not many yeares agoe, there raigned in this Countrey a King which had to name Larmos, for wisedome and prowesse not his equall was found in any of these parts of the world. This King had such con∣tinuall warre against the bordering Ilanders, that vpon a time he was constrained to muster for the same warre all the men both young & old which were found in his Kingdome, whereby the whole Countrey was left destitute of men, to the great dis∣conten••ment of the Ladies and Damsels that here inhabited: whereupon they finding themselues so highly wronged, liuing without the company of men, they generally assembled them∣selues together, with the Daughter of King Larmos, which is called Caelia, no lesse in Beautie, then in Uertue and Wise∣dome: These Ladyes and Damosels beeing gathered toge∣ther,

with a generall consent, dispatched certaine Messengers to the King, and to their Husbands, willing them to returne into their Countrey, and not to leaue their wiues and children in such extremity, without the comfort and company of man. Upon which, the King answered, that hee had besieged his E∣nemies in their Townes of Warre; and before one man should returne home till he came with Conquest, his Country should bee lost and made desolate, and the Women giuen ouer to the spoyle of his Enemies: Which answere, when the Ladies had receiued, they tooke it in such euill part, that they conspi∣red against their King, and Husbands, and put to death all the men children that were in the Countrey; and after deter∣mined, when their Husbands, Fathers, and Friends returned from the Warre, that they should the first night of their com∣ming, bee slaine sléeping in their Beds, and that neuer after they should suffer man to enter into their Countrey. After this conclusion, they crowned Caelia the Kings Daughter for their Quéene: And so afterward, when the King and his Ar∣mie returned from his Warres, this bloudy murther was prac∣tised, and not a man left aliue, but onely the King reserued, whom Caelia would in no wise against nature murther: but yet notwithstanding, shee deliuered him into the hands of her chiefest Ladies, which put him into a Boat alone, and so sent him to the Sea to seeke his fortune. Therefore most noble Knights, this is the cause, why you may not enter into our Countrey: which if you doe, and not presently withdraw your selues vnto the Sea, the Ladies will suddenly giue you a mer∣uailous Battell.

Now by the Euer-liuing 〈…〉〈…〉 which English-men adore, (said the Noble Red-rose Knight) such extremitie haue wee suffered at Sea, that wée are like to perish and dye with hun∣ger, vnlesse wée finde some succeur at your hands: and before we will end our liues with famine, we will enter Battell with those Ladies, and so dye with Honour in the Field: yet this kindnesse doe we humbly desire at your hands, to returne vnto your Quéene, and certifie her of our poore estate and necessity, and that we altogether instantly desire her, that if there be any sparke of Uertue, or Nobility harboured in her breast, that shée

will haue pitie vpon vs, and suffer vs not to end our liues by such an unhappy kind of death.

With this request the two Damsels returned to the Quéen and recounted from word to word the humble suit of the Red-rose Knight, and what extremitie they were in: Which when the Quéene vnderstood, and that they were Knights of Eng∣land, the fame of which countrey shée had so often heard repor∣tes, shée demaunded, what manner of people they were, and of what condition? Surely Madam (answered one of the two Damsels) I neuer in all my life saw more goodly men, nor better spo••en: and it is to bée supposed, they bée the choyce of all humane people, and with their courteous demeanors, are able to draive the mercilesse and sauage Nation to af∣fect them.

The Quéene hearing the Damsels so highly to commend the English Knights, thinking also vpon their request, be∣gan (in minde) to haue pitie of their misaduentures, and so instantly sent for them, and gaue them frée libertie to make their abode in her Countrey: which incontinently when the English Knights heard, how they should receiue a kinde wel∣come, and a friendly entertainement, grew so exceeding ioy∣full, as though Heauen had sent them present comfort: so com∣ming before the Quéene and her Ladyes, they saluted each other most courteously, and with great reuerence. But when the vertuous Quéene behelde this noble company before her, in all humilitie, shée deliuered to a hundred of her Ladies, the hundred English Knights, and reserued the Princely Red-rose Knight vnto her selfe: and so were they brought to the Quéenes Pallace, where euery Lady feasted her Knight in most gallant sort, and to their hearts content. But now when the Quéene had the Red-rose Knight in her Chamber, and had beheld the exceeding beautie of the noble Prince, shée tooke him by the hand, and led him into one of her Chambers, where the shewed him her Riches and Treasure: and after sayd vnto him in this manner.

Most noble and valiant Englishman, these Riches bée all onely at thy Commandement, and also my body, which here I offer vp as a gift and Present to thy diuine excellencie: and

furthermore, there is nothing of value, which I am Mistris of, but shall be at thy disposing, to the intent that my loue may be acceptable to thy gracious eyes. But when the Red-rose Knight perceiued to what intent she spake these words, in this manner answered her, saying.

Most deare Princesse, and faire Quéene of this Maiden coun∣trey, I giue you right humble thankes for these your courte∣sies, and by no meanes possible may I deserue this high honour you haue grac'd me with.

Oh great Knight (replyed then the Quéene) the smallest thought of your honourable minde, is sufficien•• ••o recompence the vttermost of my deserts: yet let me request this one thing at your noble hands, that neuer asked the like fauour of any one before, for she that neuer knew the least motion of loue, is now pricked with a hundred torments: and vnlesse you quench the ardent affection wherwith my heart is fired, with the plea∣sant hopes of your comfortable smiles, I am like to die despe∣rat, and then the world will accuse you of cruelty, in murdering a consiant Lady: but if it shall please you to grant me loue, and so espouse me according to Himens holy Kites, héere shall you rule sole King, and be the Lord of all this Countrey.

My right deare Lady (answered then the Red-rose Knight) you haue done such pleasure to mée, and to my distressed follo∣wers, in preseruing vs from famine, as I shal neuer requite it, though I should spend all the rest of my life in your Seruice, And know (most excellent Princesse) that there is no aduenture so dangerous, yet at your commandement would I practise to accomplish yet for to tye my selfe in Wedlockes bonds, there is no woman in the world shall procure mee: for till I haue fi∣nished an Aduenture which in my heart I haue vowed, I will not linke my affection to any Lady in the world. But thinke not (Madam) that I refuse your loue through disdaine: for I sweare by the dignity King Arthur grac••d mée with, I should think my selfe most fortunate, if I had so faire and noble a La∣dy, as your diuine selfe.

Most worthy Knight (then answered the Quéene) I ima∣gine, that the Gods haue sent you into this Countrey for two causes principally: The first is, that you and your followers

should be preserued from death by my meanes: The second is, that you should inhabit in this Countrey least it should in short time be left as a desert wildernesse: for it is inhabited onely by Women without a King, and haue no other Gouernour but me, which am their chiefe Princesse: And for so much as I haue succoured you, so succour you this desolate Citie, that it may be repeopled with your séed: and in so doing, you shall accomplish a vertuous déed, and winne to your names an eternall memory to all ensuing ages.

I confesse (quoth the Red-rose Knight,) that you and your Ladies haue succoured mée and my followers in our great ne∣cessitie: and in recompense whereof, wee will imploy all our indeauours to the repeopling againe of this Countrey: But in regard of the secret vow my heart hath made, I will not yéeld my selfe to your desires; for if I should infringe my oath, mine Honour were greatly impaired: And before I would commit that dishonourable fact, I would suffer the greatest tor∣ment that mans heart can imagine.

Incontinently, when the loue-sicke Quéene heard this an∣swere of the English Knight, and perceiued that he was firme in his purpose, shée tooke leaue of him, and departed for that time, the Red-rose Knight likewise withdrew himselfe into his Chamber, pondring in his minde a thousand imaginations. But shée for her part was so troubled in mind, and so wounded with the Darts of blinde Cupid, that when the mistie darknes of night had couered the earth, shee layd her downe vpon her bed, where betwixt Shame and her Heart, began a ferrible Battell. Her Heart was incouraged, that shée should goe and be with him: but shame began to blush, and withstood that per∣swasion; by which meanes the battell was great, and indured a long time: but at last the Heart was conquerour, and shame vanquished and put to flight, in such sort, that the faire Quéene arose from her bed, and went and layd her downe by her belo∣ued Knight, where hée slept: and being in the bed, shée began fearefully to tremble, for shame still followed her vnlawfull practises: where after her quiuering heart began a little to be qualified, with her trembling hand she awaked him, and af∣ter spake in this manner.

My most deare and affectionat friend, though like a carelesse wretch I come vnto thée apparelled with Shame, yet let my true Loue colour this my infamous presumption: for your Princely person, and Kingly demeanours, like Adamants haue drawne my stéeled Heart to commit this shamefull acte; yet let not my feruent Affection be required with Disdaine: and although you will not consent to be my wedded Lord and Husband, yet let me bée thy Loue and secret Friend; that a poore distressed Quéene may thinke her selfe happy in an Englishmans loue.

When the noble Knight heard the faire Caelias voyce, and felt her by his side all naked, hee was so sore abashed, that hée wist not what to doe: but yet at last hauing the nature and courage of a man, hée turned to her, vsing many amorous spéeches, imbracing and kissing each other in such manner, that faire Caelia was conceiued with Child. and waxe great of a right faire Sonne: of whom she was in processe of time safe: ly deliuered; as you shall heare discoursed of large in the fol∣lowing History.

But to be short, during the space of foure Monethes, the Fayery Ladyes lay with the English Knights, and many of them were conceiued with their séede in such sort, that the Countrey was afterward repeopled with male Children, and what happened amongst them in the meane season, I will passe ouer for this time: for the dayes and nights (that haue no rest) passe on their wonted course: in which time their Shippe was replenished with all necessaries, and the Red-rose Knight summoned together Sir Launcelot and the rest: and being as∣sembled, he sayd vnto them.

My good Friends and Countreymen, you know, that long time we haue soiorned in this Countrey, spending our dayes in idle pastimes, to the reproach of our former glories: now my intent is, within these thrée dayes to depart this Countrey, therefore let euery man make himselfe in readines: for there is no greater dishonour to aduenturous Knights, then to spend their dayes in Ladyes bosomes.

When sir Lancelot and the other English Gentlemen heard the forward disposition of the Red-rose Knight, they were all

excéeding ioyfull, and answered him; that with great willing∣nesse they would all be ready at the time appointed.

But now, when the Fayerie Ladies perceiued the prepa∣rations that the English Knights made for their departure, they grew excéeding sorrowfull, and complained one to another in most grieuous manner: but amongst the rest, the Quéene was most displeased, who with a sorrowfull and sad heart came vnto the Red-rose Knight, and in this manner complayned to him.

Alas, alas, my deare Lord, haue yée that tyrannous heart, to withdraw your selfe from me, and to forsake me before you sée the fruit of your Noble person, which is nourished with my bloud. Deare Knight, behold with pitie my wombe, the cham∣ber and mansion of your bloud; Oh let that be a meanes to stay you, that my Child (as yet vnborne) be not fatherlesse by your departure. And in speaking these words, shée began to wéepe and sigh bitterly, and after to whisper secretly to her selfe in this order.

Oh you immortall heauens, how may mine eyes behold the departure of my ioy! for being gone, all comfort in the world will forsake me, and all consolation flie from me: and centra∣riwise, all sorrow will pursue mee, and all misfortune come against me. Oh what a sorrow will it be to my scule, to sée thée floting on the dangerous Seas, where euery minute, perils doe arise ready to whelme thée in the bottomlesse Ocean! and being once erempted from my sight, my heart for euermore lie in the bed of tribulation, vnder the coueriure of mortall distresse, and betwéene the shéetes of eternall hewaylings. Yet if there be no remedy, but that theu wilt néedes depart, sweare vnto me, that if euer thou doest accomplish thy pretended boyage, (what it is I know not) that thou wilt returne againe to this Country, to tell mée of thy happy fortunes, and thatmine eyes may once more be hold thy louely countenance, which is as delectable to my soule, as the Ioyes of Paradise.

When the Noble English Knight vnderstoode that the Quéene condescended to his departure, vpon condition of his returne, to which he solemnly protested, if the Gods gaue him life and good fortune, to performe her request: whereby the

Fayrie Quéene was somewhat recomforted: And hauing great hope in the returne of her deare Loue, thée ceased her lamenta∣tions. And now (to abridge the Story) the time came that the valiant English-men should goe a Ship-boord: vpon which day, the Red-rose Knight and his followers, tooke leaue of the noble Quéene and her Ladies, thanking them for their kinde enter∣tainements, and so went to the Port of the Sea, where they en∣tred their Ships, and so departed from the Fayrie Land. After this, when Caelia had borne her Babe in her wombe full forty wéekes, she was deliuered of a faire Sonne, who came after∣ward to be called the Fayrie Knight: which for this time wée will not touch, but referre it to the second part of this History.

CHAP. V. What happened to the English Knights, after their departure from the Fayrie Land.

WIth a prosperous Winde sayled these English Knights, many a League from the Fayerie Land, to their great content and hearts desire, where euery thing seemed to Prognosticate their happy Aduentures: so vpon a day when the Sunne shone cleare, and a gentle calme Winde caused the Seas to lye as smooth as Christall Ice, whereby their Ship lay floating on the Waues, not able to re∣mooue: For whilest the Dolphins daunc'd vpon the siluer Streames, and the red gild Fishes leapt about the Shippe, the Red-rose Knight requested Sir Lancelot, to driue away the time with some Courtly Discourse, whereby they might not thinke their Uoyage ouer long. Unto which, the good Sir Lancelot most willingly agréed: And although hee was a Martiall Knight, delighting to heare the relentlesse sound of angry Drummes, which thunders threats from a Massaker, yet could hee like an Dratour, as well discourse a Louers Hi∣story: therefore requesting the Red-rose Knight, and the other

English Gentlemen, to sit downe and listen to the Tale that followeth.

The pleasant History which Sir Lancelot du Lake, told to the Red-rose Knight, being a Ship-boord.

AT that time of the yeare, when the Birds had nipt away the tawny leaues, and Flora with her pleasant Flowers, had enricht the earth, and encloathed with Trees, Hearbs, and Flowers, with Natures Tapistrie, when the golden Sunne with his glistering Beames did glad mens hearts, and euery Leafe as it were, did beare the forme of Loue, by Nature pain∣ted vpon it: This blessed time did cause the Grecian Empe∣rour to proclaime a solemne Turnament to bee holden in his Couet, which as then was replenished with many worthy and valiant Knights: but his desire chiefely was, to beholde his Princely Sonne Valentine, to try his Ualour in the Tur∣nament.

Many were the Ladies that repayred thither, to beholde the worthy Triumphes of this young Prince: amongst which number, came the beautifull Dulcippa, a Mayden which as then wayted vpon the Empresse, being Daughter to a Coun∣trey Gentleman This Dulcippa, like Apollos Flower, be∣ing the fayrest Uirgin in that company, had so firmely setled her loue vpon the Emperours sonne, that it was impossible to expell it from her heart. Likewise, his affection was no lesse in feruencie then hers: so that there was a iust equality in their Loues and liking, though a difference in their Birthes and Callings.

This Princely Valentine, (for so was the Emperours Sonne called) entred the Listes in costly Armour most richly wrought with Orient Pearles, his Crest encompassed with Saphire Stones, and in his hand a sturdie Launce. Thus mounted vron a milke-white Stéede, hee vaunted foorth him∣selfe to try his warlike force: and in prauncing by and downe, hée many times (thorow his Beuer) stole a view of his sayre Dulciopas face: at which time, there kindled in his Breast two sundry Lampes: the one was to winne the honour of the

day: the other, to obtaine the loue of his Mistresse. On the other side, Dulcippa did nothing but report the valiant arts of his prowesse and chiualrie, in such sort, that there was no other talke amongst the Ladies, but of Valentines honourable attempts.

No sooner was the Turnaments ended, and this loue begun, but Dulcippa departed to her lodging, where sighes did serue as bellowes to kindle Leues fire. Valentine in like manner being wounded to death, still rometh vp and downe to finde a salue for his stanchlesse thirst: so séekes Dulcippa to restore her former liberty: for, she being both beloued, and in loue, knew not the meane to comfort her selfe. Sometime she did exclaime against her wandring eyes, & wished they had bin blind when first they gazed vpon the beauty of Princely Valentine: Some times in visious the beheld his face chéerefull, smiling vpon her counte∣nance: and presently againe, shée thought she saw his martiall hands bathed all in purple blood, scorning her loue and former courtesies. With that shee started from her dreaming passion, wringing her tender hands, till flouds of siluer dropping teares trickled downe her face: Her golden haire that had wont to be bound vp in thréeds of gold, hung dangling now about her Iuory necke: the which in most outragious sort she rent and tore, till that her haire which before lookt like burnisht Gold, were died now in purple and Uermillion bloud. In this strange passion remained this distressed Lady, till the Golden Sunne had thrée times lodged him in the Westerne Seas, and the siluer Moone her shining face in the Pallace of the Christall Cloudes. At this time a heauy slumber possessed all her senses: for she, whose eyes before in three dayes, and as many nights, had not shut vp their Closets, was now lockt vp in silent sléepe, lest her heart euer burthened with griefe, by some vntimely manner should destroy it selfe.

But now returne wee to the worthy Valentine, who sought not to pine in passion, but to court it with the best, considering with himselfe, that a faint heart neuer gain'd faire Lady: ther∣fore hée purposed boldly to discouer his loue to the faire Dul∣cippa, building vpon a fortunate successe, considering that she was but Daughter to a Gentleman, and he a Prince borne, so

attiring himselfe in costly Silkes, wearing in his Hatte, an In dian Pearle cut cut of Ruby red. On eyther side a golden Ar∣row thrust through a bleeding Heart; to declare his earnest affection. In this manner went he to his belooued Lady, whom he found in company of other Ladies waighting upon the Em∣presse: who taking her by the hand, he led her aside into a Ga∣lery néere adioyning: where he began in this manner to expresse the passion of his loue.

Sacred Dulcippa, (quoth hee) in beauty brighter then glittering Cinthia, when with her beames shee beautifies the vales of Heauen. Thou art that Cinthia, that with thy bright∣nesse dost sight my clowoy thoughtes, which haue many dayes been ouer cast with stormy showers of Loue: Shine with thy beames of mercie on my minde, and let thy light conduct me from the darke and obscure Laberinthe of Loue. If feares could speake, then should my tongue kéepe silence: Therefore, let my sighes bee messengers of true Icue. And though in words I am not able to deliuer the true meaning of my desires: yet let my cause beg pitty at your hands. Other wise your deniall drownes my soule in a bottomlesse Sea of sor∣row: one of these two (most beautious Lady,) doe I desire: either to giue life with a chéerefull smile, or death with a fatall frowne. Valentine hauing no sooner ended his loues oration, but she with a scarlet countenance, returned him this ioyfull answere.

Most Noble Prince, thy words within my heart, hath knit a gordion knot, which no earthly Wight may vntie: for it is knitte with faithfull Loue, and Teares, distilling from a constant minde. My heart which neuer yet was subiect to any one, doe I fréely yeeld vp into thy bosome, where it for cuer∣more shall rest, till the Fatall sisters cut our liues asunder. And in speaking these words, they kissed each other as the first earnest of their loues. With that the Empresse came tho∣row the Gallerie, who espying their secret conference, pre∣sently nursed in her secret hate, which shée intended to prac∣tise against the guiltlesse Lady, thinking it a scandall to her Sonnes birth, to match in mariage with one of so base a pa∣rentage: Therefore purposing to crosse their loues with dis∣mall

stratagems, and dryerie Tragedies, shee departed to her Chamber, where she cloked her treacheries vp in silence, & pon∣dred in her heart how she might end their loues, and finish Dul∣cippas life. In this tragicall imagination remained she all that night, hammering in her head a thousand seueral practises. But no sooner was the deawy earth comforted with the hote beames of Apollos fire, but this thirsting Empresse arose from her carefull bed, penning her selfe closely within her Chamber, like one that made no conscience for to kill: shée in all hast sent for a Doctor of Phisicke, not to giue Phisicke to rest••••e health, but poyson for vntimely death: who being no sooner some into her presence, but presently she lockt her Chamber doore, and with an angry countenance, staring him in the face, shee breathed this horror into his harmelesse eares.

Doctor, thou knowest how oft in secret matters I haue vsed thy helpe, wherein as yet I neuer saw thy faith falsified: but now amongst the rest, I am to require thy ayd in an earnest bu∣sinesse, so secret, which if thou dost but tell it to the whispering windes, it is sufficient to spread it through the whole world: whereby my practises may be discouered, and I be made a noted reproach to all hearers.

Madame (quoth the Doctor, whose heart harboured no thought of bloody deeds) what needs all these circumstances, where dutie doth command my true obedience? desist not ther, fore gentle Empresse, to make me priuy to your thoughts: for little did he thinke her minde could harbour so vile a thought: but hauing coniured most strongly his secrefie, she spake to him as followeth.

Doctor, the loue (nay rather raging lust) which I haue spied of late betwixt my vnnaturall sonne, and proud Dulcippa, may in short time (as thou knowest) bring a sudden alteration of our state, considering that he being borne a Prince, and descen∣ded from a royall race, should match in marriage with a base and ignoble Mayden, daughter but to a meane Gentleman: therefore, if I should suffer this secret loue to goe forward, and séeke not to preuent it, the Emperour might condemne mée of falshood, and iudge me an agent in this vnlawfull loue; which to a voyd, I haue a practise in my head, and in thy hand it lyes

to procure thy Princes happinesse, and Countreys good. Dul∣cippas father (as thou knowest) dwels about thrée miles from my Pallace, vnto whose house, will this day send Dulcippa, about such businesse as I thinke best, where thou shalt bée ap∣poynted, and none but thou to conduct her thither: where in a thicke and bushy groue which standeth directly in the midway, thou shalt giue her the cup of death, and so rid my heart from suspitious thoughts.

This bloody practise being pronounced by the Empresse, cau∣sed such a terrour to enter into the Doctors mind, that he trem∣bled foorth this sorrowfull complaint.

Oh you immortall powers of Heauen, you guider of my haplesse fortunes, why haue you thus ordained mee to bée the bloody murderer of a chaste and vertuous Lady, and the true patterne of sobrietie: whose vntimelesse ouerthrow if I should but once conspire, Dianas Nymphs would turne their wonted Natures, and staine their hands with my accursed blood: Therefore most glorious Empresse, cease your determinati∣on, for my heart will not suffer my hand to commit so foule a villany.

And wilt not thou doe if then, (repl••ed the Empresse with a mind fraught with rage and blood?) •• doe protest (quoth shée) by Heauens bright Maiestie, except thou doest consent to ac∣complish my intent, thy head shall warrant this my secresie. Stand not on termes, my resolute attempt is cleane impatient of obiections.

The Doctor hearing her resolution, and that nothing but Dulcippas death might satisfie her wrath, hée consented to her request (and purposed cunningly to dissemble with the bloody Quéene) who beléeued that hée would performe what shée so much desired: so departing out of her chamber, she went to the giltlesse Lady, sending her on this fatall message: who like to haplesse Bellerophon, was ready to carry an embassage of her own death But in the meane time, the Doctor harbored in his breast a world of bitter woes, to thinke how vilely this vertu∣ous Lady was betrayd: and considering in his minde, how that he was forced by constraint to performe this tragedy; therefore hee purposed not to giue her a cup of Poyson, but a sleeping

Drinke, to cast her into a traunce, which shee should as a cup of death receiue; as well to try her vertuous Constancie, as to rid himselfe from so haynous a crime.

But now returne wee to Dulcippa, who beeing sped of her Message, went with the Doctor, walking on the way, where all the talke which they had, was of the liberall praise of Prince Valentine; who remayned in Court, little mistrusting what had happened to his beloued Lady: and she likewise ignorant of the hurt that was pretended against her life: but being both a∣lone together in the Wood, where nothing was heard but chir∣ping Birds, which with their voyces séemed to mourne at the Ladyes misfortune, But now the Doctor breaking off their former talke, tooke occasion to speake as followeth.

Man of all other creatures (most vertuous Lady) is most miserable, for Nature hath ordayned to euery Bird a pleasant tune to bemoane their misshapps, the Nightingale doth com∣plaine her Rape and lost Uirginitie within the desart Groues: the Swanne doth likewise sing a dolefull heauie tune a while before shée dyes, as though Heauen had inspired her with some foreknowledge of things to come. Y•••• Madame, now must sing your Swan-like Song; for the pretty Birds (I sée) doe drope their hanging heads and mourne, to thinke that you must die, Maruell not Madame; the angry Quéene will haue it so. Accurst am I in being constrayned to bee the bloody instrument of so tyrannous a fact. Accurst am I that haue ordained that cuppe, which must by Poyson, stanche the thirst of the bloody Empresse: and most accursed am I, that can∣not withstand the angry Fates, which haue appoynted mée to offer outrage vnto vertue. And in speaking these words, hée deliuered the Cup into the Ladyes hands: who like a Lambe that was led to the slaughter, vsed silence for her excuse. Many times lift shee vp her eyes toward the sacred Throne of Hea∣uen, as though the Gods had sent downe vengeance vpon her giltlesse Soule, and at last breathed foorth these sorrowfull la∣mentations.

Neuer (quoth shee) shall vertue stoope to Uice. Neuer shall Death affright my soule: nor neuer Poyson quench that last∣ing loue, which my true heart doth beare to Princely Valen∣tine;

whose Spirit (I hope) shall méete mée in the ioyfull Fields of Elizium, to call those Ghosts, that dyed for Faith∣full loue, to beare mee witnesse of my Faith and Loyalty: and so taking the Cup, shée said. Come, come, thou most blessed Cup, wherein is contained that happy Drinke, which giues rest to troubled mindes. And thou most blessed Wood, beare witnesse, that I mixe this banefull Drinke with Teares di∣stilling from my bléeding heart. These Lips of mine that had woont to kisse Prince Valentine, shall now most willingly kisse this Ground, that must receiue my Corse. The author of my death, Ile blesse; for shee honours mee, in that I die for my swéet Valentines sake. And now Doctor to thée (being the in∣strument of this my Death) I doe begueath all earthly happi∣nesse: and here withall, I drinke to Valentines good fortune: So drinking off the sleeping Potion, shée was presently cast in∣to a traunce; which shée poore Lady, supposed death. The Doctor greatly admiring at her vertuous minde, erected her body against an aged Oake, where he left her sléeping, and with all spéede returned to the hatefull Quéene, and told her, that he had performed her Maiesties command: who gaue him ma∣ny thanks, and promised to requite his secrecie with a large re∣compence.

But now speake we againe of Prince Valentine, who had in∣telligence, how the onely comfort of his heart had ended her life by Poysons violence: for which cause, he leaues the Court; and conuerted his rich Attire to ruthfull Roabes: his costly co∣loured Garments, to a homely russet Coat; and so trauailing to the solitary woods, he vowed to spend the rest of his dayes in a Shepheards life: His royall Scepter was turned into a sim∣ple Shéepehooke, and all his pleasure was to kéepe his Shéepe from the téeth of the rauenous Wolues.

Thrée times had glistering Phoebe renewed her horned winges, and deckt the elements with her smiling counte∣nance: Thrée moneths were past, thrée Moones had like∣wise runne their wonted composse, before the Grecian Empe∣rou mist his Princely Sonne: whose want was no sooner bru∣ted through the Court, but hee ecchoed foorth this horrour to himselfe.

What cursed Planet thus indirectly rules my haplesse course? or what vn••outh dryery Fate hath bereaued me of my Prince∣ly sonne? Ioue send downe thy burning Thunderb••lts, and strike them dead that be pro••urers of his want: But, if (swéet Venus) he be dead for loue, houer his Ghost before mine eyes, that hee may discouer the cau••e or his inflictions. But contrari∣wise, if his life be finished by the fury of some murtherous mind, then let my exclamations pierce to the iustfull Maiestie of Heauen, that neuer Sunne may shine vpon his hated head, which is the cause of my Valentines decay: Or, that the angry Furies may lend me their burning whips, ince••santly to scourge their purple soules, till my Sonnes wrongs bee sufficiently re∣uenged. Thus, or in such a like frantick humour ranne hee vp and downe his Pallace, till Reason pacified his outragious thoughts, and by perswasion of his Lords, he was brought into his quiet bed. Meane space, Diana (the Quéene of Chastitie) with a Traine of beautifull Nimphe••, by chance came through the Wood where Dulcippa was left in her traunce: in which place, rousing the Thickets in pur••uit of a wilde Hart, the Quéene of Chastity espied the harmlesse Lady standing against a Trée, and beheld her swéet breath to passe through her closed lips: At whose presence, the Quéene a while stood wondring at; but at last, with her sacred shee awaked her, and withall asked the cause of her traunce, and by what meanes she came thither? Which poore awaked Lady, being amazed both at her sodaine Maiestie, and the strangenesse of her passed Fortune and di∣stresse, with farre fetcht sighes, shee related what happened to her in those desart Woods. The heauenly Goddesse being mo∣ued with pitie, with a most smiling voyce cheared her vp, and with a Lilly taken from the ground, she wiped the teares from off Dulcippa tender chéekes, which like to a riuer trickled from her Christall eyes. This being done, Diana with an Angels voyce, spake vnto her as followeth.

Swéete Uirgine (for so it séemeth thou art) farre better would it befit thy happy estate (happy I terme it) hauing past so many dangers, to spend the remnant of thy life amongst my Traine of Nimphes, whereas springeth nothing but Chastity and purity of life. Dulcippa, though in her loue both firme and

constant, yet did she condiscend to dwell with Dianas Nimphs: where now, instead of parly with courtly Gallants, shée sing∣eth Songs, Carrols, Roundelayes: in stead of Penne and Incke, wherewith she was wont to write Loue-letters, shee exerciseth her Bow & Arrows, to kill the swift-fat Deare: and her downie Beddes, are pleasant Groues, where pretty Lambes doe graze.

But now returne wée againe to the raging Emperour, who sifted the matter out in such sort, that hee found the Em∣presse giltie of her Sonnes want, and the Doctor to bee the instrument of Dulcippas death: who being desperat (like one that vtterly detested the cruelty of the Empresse) would not alleadge, that he had but set the Lady in a traunce, but openly confessed that he had poysoned her & for that fact was willing to offer vp his life to satisfie the Law, therefore the angry Emperour sweares, that nothing shall satisfie his Sonnes reuengement, but death: and thereupon straightly commaun∣ded the Empresse to be put in prison, and the Doctor likewise to be lockt in a strong Tower: but yet because shee was his lawfull Wife, and a Princesse borne hee something sought to mittigate the Law, that if any on within a tweluemonth and a day would come and offer himselfe to combate in her cause a∣gainst himselfe, which would be the appealant Champion, she should haue life: if not to bee burnt to ashes, in sacrifice of his Sonnes death: all which was performed as the Emperour had commanded.

But now all this while the poore Prince liues alone within the Woods, making his complaints to the flockes of Séepe and washing their waell with his di•••• ressed teares. His bedde whereon his body rested, was turned into a Sun-burnd bank: his chaire of state, couered with grasse: his musicke, the whi••••∣ling winds: the Rethoricke, pittifull complaints and meanes, wherewith he bewayled his passed fortunes, and the bitter cros∣ses of his vnhappy loue:

The solitarie place wherein this Prince remained, was not farre ••distant from the Groue, where Dullcippa led her sa∣cred life: who by chaunce in a morning at the Sunnes vpri∣sing, attyred in gréene vesiments, bearing in her hand a

Bow bended, and a quiuer of arrowes hanging at her backe, with her hayre tyed vp in a Willow wreath, least the Bushes should catch her golden Tresses to beautifie their branches: in this manner comming to hunt a sauage Hart, she was surprized by a bloody Satire bent to rape, who with a bloody mind pursued her: and comming to the same place where Prince Valentine fedde his mourning Lambes, hee ouertooke her, whereat shee gaue such a terrible shrike in the Wood, that shee stird vp the Shepherds princely mind to rescue her: but now when the bloody Satyre beheld a face of Maiestie shrowded in a shepherds clothing, immediatly hée scudded through the Woods more swifter then euer fearefull Deare did run.

But now gentle Reader, héere stay to reade a while, and thinke vpon the happy méeting of these Louers: for surely the imagination thereof will lead a golden witte into the La∣berinth of heauenly ioyes: but being breathlesse in auoyding passed dangers, they could not speake a word, but with sted∣fast eyes stood gazing each other in the face: but comming a∣gaine to their former senses, Vailentine brake silence with this wauering speach.

What heauenly wight art thou (quoth hee) which with thy beautie hast inspired me?

I am no Goddesse (replyed shée againe) but a Uirgin vowed to kéepe Diana companie, Dulcippa my name: a Lady some∣time in the Grecian Court, whilst happy fortune smilde; but being crost in loue, here doe I vow to spend the remitant of my dayes. And with that, hee catching the word out of her mouth, said.

Oh you immortall Gods: and is my Dulcippa yet aliue? I, I, aliue I sée she is: I sée that sweet celestiall beautie in her face, which hath banished déepe sorrow from my heart: and with that kissing her, hée said. Soo, see, faire of all faires that Nature euer made, I am thy Valentine, thy vnhappy Loue, the Prince of Greece, the Emperours true Sonne, who for thy louely sake, am thus 〈◊〉〈◊〉, and for thy loue, haue left the gallant Court, for this 〈◊〉〈◊〉 and homely country life. With that, shée tooke him about his manly necke, and breathed many a bitter s••••h into his bosome: and after with

wéeping teares, discoursed all her passed dangers, as well the crueltie of the Empresse, as of the vertuous déed of the good Doctor. And hauing both recounted their passed for∣tunes, they confented (disguised as they were) to trauell to the Grecian Court to sée if the Destenies had transformed the state of the Emperour or his regiment; for now no longer out∣cries, nor heauie stratagems, or sorrowfull thoughts sought to pursue them; but smiling fortune, gratious delights, and happy blessings. Now Fortune neuer meant to turne her whéele againe, to crosse them with calamities, but intended with her hand to powre into their hearts oyle of lasting peace. Thus whilst Apolloes beames did parch the tender twigs, these two Louers sate still vnder the branches of a shadie Béech, re∣counted still their ioyes and pleasures: and sitting both thus vpon a grassy bancke, there came trauelling by them an aged old man: bearing in his withered hand a staffe to stay his be∣nummed body: whose face when Prince Vallentine beheld, with a gentle voyce he spake vnto him in this sort.

Father, God saue you: How happeneth that you wéeried with age, doe trauell through the desart Groues, befitting such as can withstand the checkes of Fortunes sicklenes? Come faire old man sit downe by vs: whose mindes of late were mangled with griefe, and crost with worldly cares.

This good old Hermite hearing the curteous request of the Prince, safe downe by them, and in sitting downe, he fumbled forth this spéech.

I come (young man) from yonder Citie, whereas the Em∣perour holds a heauy Court, and makes excéeding sorrow for the want of his eldest Sonne, and for a Lady which is likewise absent: the Empresse being found guilty of their wants, is kept close prisoner, and is condemned to bee burnt, vnlesse within a tweluemoneth and a day, she can get a Cham∣pion that will enter Battaile in her cause: and with her, a Doctor also is adiudged to suffer death. Great is the sorrow that is there made for this noble Prince, and none but com∣mends his vertue: and withall the deserued praises of the ab∣sent Lady.

Father (replyed then the Prince) thou hast told vs tydings

full of bitter truth, able to enforce an iron heart to lament: for cruell is the doome, and most vnnaturall the Emperour, to deale s••hardly with his Quéene.

Nay (quoth the old man) if she be guilty, I cannot pitty her, that will cause the ruine of so good a Prince: for higher powers must giue example vnto their subjects.

By Lady Father (quoth the Princely Shepheard) you can well guesse of matters touching Kings; and to be a svitnesse of this accident, wee will presently goe vnto the Court and sée what shall betide vnto this distressed Quéene. This being said, they left the aged man, and so trauailed towards the Grecian Court: and by the way, these Louers did consult, that Prince Valentine attired like a Shepheard, should offer himselfe to combat in his Mothers cause, and so to expresse the kinde leue and nature which was lodged in his Princely breast. But be∣ing no sooner arriued in the Court, and séeing his Father to take the combat vpon himselfe, presently he knéeled downe, and like an obedient Senne, discouered himselfe, and withall Dulcippas strange fortunes: whereupon the Empresse and the Doctor were presently deliuered, and did both most willingly consent to ioyne these two Louers in the bands of Mariage: where af∣ter they spent their dayes in peace and happinesse.

This pleasant Discourse being ended, which Sir Lancelot had told to the excéeding pleasure of the greatest company, but especially of the Red-rose Knight, who gaue many kind thanks. At this time the windes began to rise, and blow chéerefully, by which they sayled on their iourney succesfully from one coast to another, till at the last they arriued vpon the coasts of Prester Iohns Land, which was in an euening when the day began to loose her christall Mantle, and to giue place to the Sable gar∣ments of gloomy night: where they cast Anchor, vnséene of any of that Country Inhabitants.

CHAP. VI. What happened to the Red-Rose Knight, and his company in the Court of Prester Iohn, and how the Red-rose Knight slew a Dragon with three tongues, that kept a golden Tree in the same Country: with other attempts that happned.

THE next Morning by the breake of day, the Red-rose Knight rose from his Cabbin, and went vpon the Hatches of the Shippe, casting his eyes round a∣bout, to see if hee could espie some Towne or Cittie where they might take harbour: and in looking about hee espied a great spacious Cittie, in the middle whereof stood a most sumptuous Pallace, hauing many high Towers standing in the ayre like the Orecian Piramides, the which he supposed to be the Pallace of some great Potentate: therefore calling Sir Lancelot (with two other Knights) vnto him, hee requested them to goe vp in∣to the Citie, and to enquire of the Countrey, and who was the Gouernour thereof; the which thing they promised to doe: so arming themselues, (as it was conuenient, being strangers in that Country) they went vp into the Citie; where they were presently presented vnto Prester Iohn, who (being alwayes li∣berall and courteous vnto Strangers) gaue them a royall in∣tertainment, leading them vp into his Pallace: and hauing in∣telligence that they were English-men, and aduenturous tra∣uaileurs, he sent foure of his Knights for the rest of their com∣pany, desiring them in the Knights behalfe, to returne to the Court, where they should haue a friendly welcome, and a Knightly entertainment.

Thus when the Red-rose Knight had vnderstoode the will of Prester Iohn, by his foure Knights, the next euening with his whole company hee repaired to the Cittie, which was right Noble and fayre, and although it was night, yet were the Stréetes as light as though it had béene mid-day, by the cleare

resplendant brightnesse of Torches, Cressetts, and other Lights which the Citizens ordained to the intertaining of the English Knights. The Stréets through which they passed to goe to the Kings Pallace, were filled with people, as Burgo∣masters, Knights, and Gentlemen, with Ladies & beautifull Damosels, which in comely order stood beholding their cōming. But when the Red-rose Knight was entred the Pallace: hée found the renowned Prester Iohn sitting vpon his Princely Throne, vnder propt with pillers of Iasper stone: who after he had giuen them an honorable welcome, he took the Red-rose Knight by the hand, and led him vp into a large and sumptious Hall, the richest that euer he had séene in all his life: But in going vp certaine stayres hée looked in at a window, and espied fayre Anglitora the Kings daughter, sporting amongst other Ladyes; which was the fayrest mayde that euer mortall eye behelde, and I thinke that Nature her selfe could not frame her like: but being entred the Hall, they foūd the Tables couered with costly fare ready for supper: when as the English Knights were set at the Kings Table in company of Prester Iohn and Anglitora, with other Ladyes attending (hauing good stomaches) they fedd lustily; but Anglitora which was placed right ouer against the Red-rose Knight, fedde only vpon his beauty and princely behauiour, not being able to withdraw her eyes from his diuine excellencie: but the renowned Prester Iohn for his part, spent away the supper time, with ma∣ny pleasant conferences touching the countrey of England and King Arthurs princely Court: the report of which fame, had so often sounded in his eares. But amongst all other deuises, he told the English Knights of a Trée of gold, which now grew in his Realme, and yéerely brought foorth goldē fruit, but he could not enioy the benefit thereof, by reason of a cruell Dragon that continually kept it: for the conquest of which golden tree, hée had many times solemnly proclaimed through that part of the World, that if any Knight durst attempt to conquer it, and by good fortune bring the aduenture to an end, he should haue in reward thereof his Daughter the faire Anglitora in marriage: to which many Knights reserted as well of fortaine Coun∣treys, as his owne Nation; but none proued so fortunate to

accomplish the wished conquest, but lost their liues in the same aduenture: therefore I fully beléeue, if all the Knights in the world were assembled together, yet were they all vnsufficient to ouercome that terrible Dragon.

With that the Red-rose Knight with a bold courage stood vp, and protested by the loue he bore vnto his countryes King, he would performe the enterprise, or lose his life in the attempt: so in this resolution hée remained all supper time, which being ended, the English Knights were brought into diuers chambers: but amongst the rest, the Red-rose Knight and Sir Launcelot were lodged néere to the fayre Anglitora, for there was nothing betwixt their Chambers, but a little Gallery: into which being come, and no sooner layd in their beds, but the Red-rose Knight began to conferre with Sir Launcelot in this man∣ner.

What thinke you (quoth he) of the enterprize I haue taken in hand? Is it not a deed of honour and renowne?

Surely (replyed Sir Launcelat) in my iudgement it is an enterprize of death: for euery man in this countrey adiudge∣eth you ouercome and destroyed, if you but once approach the sight of the Dragon, therefore bee aduised, and goe not to this perrilous aduenture, for you can obtaine nothing thereby but reproach and death: and doubtlesse they are counted wise that can shun the misuentures, and kéepe themselues from danger.

But then (quoth the Red-rose Knight) shall I falsifie my promise; and the promise of a noble minde ought still to bée kept: therefore, ere I will infringe the Uow I haue made, I will be deuoured by the terrible Dragon, And in speaking these words they fell asleepe.

During which time of their conference, fayre Anglitora stood at their chamber doore and heard all that had passed be∣twixt them, and was so surprized with the loue of this gentle Red-rose Knight, that by no meanes shée could restraine her affections: and returning to her chamber, casting her selfe vp∣on her Bedde thinking to haue slept, but could not, shée began to say secretly to her selfe, this sorrowfull lamentation.

Alas mine Eyes, what torment is this you haue put my heart vnto? for I am not the woman that I was wont to be,

for my heart is fiered with a flame of amorous desires, and is subiect to the Loue of this gallant English Knight, the beautie of the world, and the glory of Christendome. But fond feele that I am, wherefore doe I desire the thing which may not be gotten, for I greatly feare, that hee is already betr••thed to a Lady in his owne Countrey. And furthermore his minde is garnished with Princely cogitations, that I may not enioy his Loue: and he thinketh no more of me, then on her that he neuer saw. But graunt that hee did set his affection vpon mée, yet were it to small purpose; for he is resolued to aduenture his life in the conquest of the Golden trée, where hee will soone bee deuowred by the terrible Dragon. Ah, what a griefe & sorrow will it be to my heart, when I shall heare of his vntimely death for hee is the choise of all Nature, the Prince of Nobilitie, and the flowre of worship: for I haue heard him say, that hee had rather die honourably in accomplishing his Uow, then to re∣turne with reproach into England. Which happy country, if these eyes of mine might but once behold, then were my soule possessed with terrestriall ioyes. Anglitora with these words fell asléepe, and so passed the night away till the day came: who ••o sooner with his bright beames glistered against the Pallace walles, but the Red-rose Knight arose from his bed, and armed himselfe in great courage, ready for the aduenture: where af∣ter hée had taken leaue of the King, and all the rest of his English friends, hée departed foorth of the Citie towards the Golden trée, which stood in a low vally, some two miles from the Kings Pallace:

This morning was fayr and cleare, and not a cloud was séene, the elements and the Sun cast his resple••dant beames vpon the earth: at which time the Ladyes and Damosels moū∣ted vpon the highest Towers in the Pallace, and the common people came vp to the battlements and walles of Churches, to behold the aduenture of this valiant Knight, who as then wet most ioyfully on his iourney, till he came to the vaile of the Golden trée, wherein being no sooner entred, but he behelde a most cruell and terrible Dragon come springing out of his hellow Caue. This Dragon was farre more bigger then a horse; in length full thirtie foote, the which incontinently as soone

as hee was out of his Caue, began to raise his necke, set by his eares, and to stretch himselfe, opened his throate, and casting foorth thereat most monstrous burning flames of fire: Then the Red-rose Knight drew cut his good Sword, and went towards him, whereat the Monster opened his terrible throat, whereout sprang three tongues, ••asting foorth flaming fire in such sort, that it had almost burnt him. The first blowe that the Knight strooke, hit the Dragon betwixt the two eyes so furiously that hée staggered: but be∣ing recouered, and féeling himselfe most grieuously hurt, hée discharged from his throat such abundance of thicke ••••••ing smoake, that it blinded the Knight in such sort, that hée saw no∣thing: but yet not withstanding hée lifted vp h•••• Sword, and discharged it vpon the Dragon where he imagined his head was, and strooke so furious a blow, that hée cut off his thrée tongues close by their rootes: by which the Dragon indured such marueilous paine, that hée turned his body so sodainely round, that his tayle smote the valiant Knight a mighty blow vpon his backe, whereby hée fell downe vpon the Sands; be∣ing thus ouerthrowne, hée was in minde most marueylously ashamed, but after a while, hauing recouered himselfe, hée ran to the Dragon againe, and with his good Sword smote such a terrible blow vpon his tayle, that it cut it off in the middle: the which péece was seuen foote in length. The Dragon through the great paine that hée felt, came and incountred the Knight in such a fashion that he beate him downe to the ground, and af∣ter stood ouer him as though he had béen dead: but the Knight tooke his Sword, and vnderneath him thrust it vp to the Hilts so farre that it pierced his heart: which when the Dra∣gon felt as smitten to death, began to runne away with the Sword sticking in his belly, thinking to haue hidden himselfe in his Caue but his life departed before hée could get thither. Incontinently, when the Red rose Knight had rest himselfe, and saw that the Dragon was dead, he recomforted himselfe, and went and drew out his Sword from his belly, which was all to be-stayned with his blacke blood; and after tooke the Daragons thrée Tongues and ••••ucke them vpon his Sword; and likewise pulled a branch from the golden Trée, which hée

bore in his hand: and so in triumph went towards the Cittie: and being come within the sight thereof, hee lifted vp the Gol∣den branch into the ayre as high as he could, that it might gli∣ster in the Sunne for the people to behold, (which stood vpon high Turrets, expecting his comming,) who perceiuing it, with great admiration began to wonder. Some there were that gathered gréene Hearbes and Flowers, and strewed the way whereas the Knight should passe to goe to the Kings Pallace, saying: that all Honour ought to bee giuen to so no∣ble and glorious a Conquerour.

Faire Anglitora amongst all other, was most ioyfull, when she beheld the glistering brightnesse of the Golden branch, and commanded her Waighting-maydes to put on their richest attyres, to solemnize the honour of that excellent Uictory.

And to conclude, he was met at the Citie gate, with the mel∣lody of Drummes and Trumpets, and so conducted to the Kings Pallace: where he was right honorably entertayned of Prester Iohn and his Nobles. Surely there is no man so el∣loquent, that can discourse by writing the great ioy that An∣glitora tooke at his returne: and generally the whole Inhabi∣tants had thereat excéeding pleasure.

But now when the valiant Red-rose Knight had entered the Hall, and had set the Golden branch vpon an Iuory Cup∣board richly furnished with costly Plate, the English Knights and many other Ladyes began to daunce most ioyfully, and to spend the time in delicious sports till Supper was ready, and then the King and the Red-rose Knight was set: and with them, the noble and faire Anglitora, Launcelat du Lake and o∣ther English Knights: where (all supper while) there was no other conference holden, but of the valiant encounters of the Red-rose Knight: who for his part did nothing but make secret loue signes to faire Anglitora.

What shall I make long circumstances? The Supper pas∣sed, and the houre came that the generall company withdrew them into their Chambers, the Red-rose Knight was con∣ducted to his Lodging by many Noble men and others, which brought the Golden branch after him, and so bequeathed him for that night to his silent rest. But presently after the Noble∣mens

departure, Anglitora entred into his Chamber, bearing in her hand a siluer Bason full of warme perfumed Waters, the which shée had prouided to wash the Dragons blood from his body: which when the Red-rose Knight perceiued, and thinking vpon the kind loue that shée proffered him, put off his Cloathes, and made himselfe ready to wash. Faire Anglitora being attired in a white Frocke without sléeues, turned vp her Smocke aboue her elbowes, and so with her owne hands washed the body of the Red-rose Knight.

But now when this gentle Batcheler beheld her louely Body, her faire & round Breasts, the whitenesse of her Flesh, and that hee felt her Hands marueilous soft, hee was so much inflamed with the ardent desire of loue, that in beholding her Beauty, hée began to embrace her, and kissed her many times most courtiously: and so after, when he had been well washed, Anglitora caused him to lie in his Bedde, beholding his well formed limbes, of colour faire and quicke, and could not turne her eyes from his sight: Thus as they were beholding each other without speaking any word, at last the noble Knight spake to her in this manner.

Most deare Lady, you know that by this Conquest, I haue deserued to bee your Husband; and you, through kind loue, to be my Wife; whereby I may say, that you are mine, and I am yours: and of our two Bodies, there is but one: Therefore I require you to seale vp the first quittance of our loues, which is, that wée two for this night, might sléepe together: and so accomplish the great pleasure that I haue so long frished for.

Ah most Noble Knight (answered the faire Lady) what in mée lyeth (that may bring you the least motion of content) shall with all willingnesse be performed: But yet I coniure you by the promise of true Knight-hood, that you will saue mine Ho∣nour, lest I bee made a scandall to my Fathers glory.

There is no man in the world (quoth he) that shall preserue thine Honour more then I. What if you sléepe this night with me in bed, doe you any more then your duty, in that I am your Husband, and best beloued Friend.

My deare loue (replyed she againe) there is no pleasure which

I will deny yée: but for this night, you shall haue pa∣tience▪ for I will neuer yéeld vp the pride of my Uirginitie, t••ll my Father hath giuen me Mariage: and therefore I de∣sire you, that to morrow you will request that fauour at his hands: which being graunted and performed, then accomplish your content.

When the Red-rose Knight had vnderstood his Ladyes minde, hée like an Honourable Gentleman, was content to obey her request. What shall I say more? but that the night drew on to the wonted time of sleepe, which caused those two Louers (for the time) to breake off company. Here slept the Red-rose Knight till the next morning: which at the breake of day, was presented with a Consort of Musicke, which the King himselfe brought into his Chamber. Their melody so highly contented his minde, that he threw them a Gold chaine, which was wrapped about his wrist: a gift plainely expressing the bounty that beautified his princely breast. The Musicians be∣ing departed, hee arose from his rich Bed, and went vnto the King, whom he found as then walking in a pleasant Garden: of whom he requsted his Daughter Anglitora in marriage, in recompence of his aduenture. The which request so displeased the King, that all his former curtesies was exchanged into so∣daine sorrow, and would by no meanes consent that Anglitora should bee his betrothed Spouse; and answered: that first hee would loose his Kingdome, before shée should bee the wife of a wandring Knight.

The noble Red-rose Knight, when hée vnderstood the vnkind answere of Prester Iohn (all abashed) went vnto Sir Launce∣lat, and his other friends, and certified them of all things that had happened: who counselled him, that the next morning they should depart.

After this conclusion, they went to the King, and thanked him for the high Honour hée had grac'd them with: and, after that, went and visited their Shippe, where for that day they passed the time in pleasure: and so when the scouling night approached, the Red-rose Knight went to the faire Anglitora, and certified her of the vnkind answere of her cruell Father: whereat thée grew sorrowfull, and grieued in minde: but

at last better considering with her selfe, shée yéelded her for∣tune fully at his pleasure, promising, that for his loue, shee would forsake both Countrey, Parents, and Friends, and follow him to what place soeuer hée pleased to conduct her. And it is to be supposed, that this night the fayre Anglitora tooke all the richest Iewels which she had, and trussed them in a fa••dle, and so when it was a little before day, shée came vnto the Red Rose Knight and awaked him: who presently made him ready, and so departed secretly from his Chamber, till they came to their Shippes: where they found all the rest of the English Knights ready to depart: So, when they were all a Board they hoysted Sayle, and departed from the Port. To whose happy iourney, we will now leaue them for a time, and speake of the discontents of Prester-Iohn, who all that night was exceeding sorrowfull for the vnkind answere, which he had giuen to the Red-Rose Knight, and so Melancholly that he could neither sléepe nor rest: but at the last hee concluded with himselfe, that he would goe & conuey the English Knights (at their departing) vnto their Ships; to the end that being in other countreys, they might applaud his courtesies vsed to Strangers.

So in the morning hee arose and went to the Chamber where the Red rose Knight was lodged, whom hee found departed contrary to his expectation. After that, he went in∣to his Daughters Chamber, where he found nothing but re∣lentlesse walles, which in vaine hee might speake vnto: whose absence droue him into such a desperate minde, that hée suddenly ran to the Sea coastes, where hee found many of his Citizens, that shewed him the Shippes wherein the English Knights were, which was at that time from the Port or Hauen, more then halfe a mile Then the King (wéeping tenderly) demaunded of them, if they had séene his Daughter Anglitora? To whom they answered, that they had séene her vpon the Shippe hatches in company of the Red-rose Knight. At which the King bitterly lamented, beating his Brest, and tearing his milke-white Hayre from his Head, vsing such vio∣lence against himselfe, that it greatly grieued the behold••••••.

At that time there was many of his Lords present, who by

gentle perswasions, withdrew him from the Sea coasts to his Pallace: where he many dayes after, lamented the disobedient flight of his Daughter.

CHAP. 7. How Caelia the Queene of the Fayrie Land was found dead, floting vpon the waues of the Sea: with other things that happened to the English Knights.

MAny dayes the windes blew chearfully in such sort, that the English Ships were within ke••∣ning of the Fayery Land: at which Sir Lance∣lat tooke an occasion to speak vnto the Red-rose Knight, and put him in remembrance how hee had promised Caelia to returne into her Coun∣trey: vnto which hée answered, and said: That he would keepe promise, if the Destenies did afford him life. And thereupon commanded the Master Pilot to make thitherward: but the windes net being willing, raysed such a Tempest on the Sea, that the Shippe was cast a contrary way, and the Marriners by no means possible could approach the Fayery land. At which time, the noble Quéene Caelia stood by the sea side vpon an high Rocke, beholding the English Ship as it passed by, as her vsual manner was euery day standing, expecting her deare Loues returne, many times making this bitter lamentation to her selfe.

Ah gentle Neptune, thou God of Seas and Windes, where is my desired Loue: bring him againe vnto mee, that day and night wée peth for his company. Thus she complained at the same instant when her Louers Shippe sayled by; for surely she knew if by the Banners and Ensignes which were displayed in the winde: but when the poore Lady perceiued the Ship to turne from her, she was sore abashed and dismayed. In stead of ioy, she was forced to wéepe teares: and instead of singing, was constrained to make sorrowfull complaints. In this manner she aboad there all that ensuing night, and caused Fires and

great Lights to be made on the shore, thinking thereby to call the Red-rose Knigh••. vnto her.

This order kept shee every day and night for the space of sixe wéekes, wayling the want of him, whom she loued more deare then her owne heart: but when the sixe weekes were past, and that the Fayerie Quéene perceiued that she should haue no ty∣dings of her Loue, she went from the Rocke (all in dispaire.) in∣to her Chamber; where being entred, shee caused her Sonne to be brought vnto her, whom shée kissed many times, for the loue she bore vnto his Father: and after beholding the little Infant, crossing her Armes, with a sigh comming from the bot∣tome of her heart, she sayd: Alasse my deare Sonne, alasse thou canst not speake to demaund tydings of thy Father, which is the brauest Knight, the most vertuous, and the most valiant in Armes that God euer formed. Oh where is Nature (swéet Babe) that should enioyne thée to wéepe, and my selfe more then thée, for the lesse of so braue a Prince; whose face I ne∣uer more shall sée? Oh cruell and vnkind Fortune: my heart hath concluded, that I goe and cast my selfe, headlong into the Sea, to the intent, that if the Noble Knight bee there buried, that I may lye in the same Sepulchre or Tombe with him: where contrariwise, if hee be not dead, that the same Sea that brought him hither aliue, bring me to him being dead. And to conclude, before I commit this desperate murther vpon my selfe, with my Blood I will write a Letter, which shall bée sewed to my Uestments or Attyre, to the intent that if euer my body bee presented to the Red-rose Knight, that then this bloody Letter may witnesse the true loue that I bore him, to the houre of my death.

Many Ladyes and Damsels were in her company whilst thus shee lamented her Knights absence: who hearing of her desperate intended death, made excéeding sorrow. Some there were that so mightily grieued, that they could not speake one word: other some there were that sou••ht to perswade her from her desperate intent: but all in vaine. For she presently went from them and with her owne blood writ a Letter, and wrapping it in a Sear-cloth, and then solved it to the Uestures wherein she was clothed: then taking her Crowne, shee bound it

from her head with a Goldē chaine which the Red-rose Knight before time had giuen h••r. Then when shee had done all this, shee came to her little Sunne, and many times kissed him, and ••o deliuered him to the Ladyes and Damsels to bee nourished: & so after taking leaue of them all, she departed toward the sea, whether being ••o••te, the went to the top of the high rock, where she began to looke downe vpon the Sea, and after casting her selfe vpon the Earth, looking vp towards Heauen, she sayd.

Thou God of my Fortunes, Lord of the Windes & Seas: thou that broughtest into this country the right perfect Knight, in beauty, manhood, and all vertues, graunt that when my soule hath made passage out of this world, my body may be in∣tombed in his b•• some: which words being sayd, shée turned her eyes towards her Pallace, and spake with a high voyce: Adue my deare Babe, adue you glistring Towres, my royall Pallace: a••ue Ladyes and Damsels: and lastly, adue to all the world, And in saying so, she cast herselfe into the Sea, & there desperately drowned her selfe.

But yet such was her fortune, that the waues of the Sea bore her dead body the same day to the English Knights Ship, which as then lay in a Road where they had cast Anchor for to rest that night, and to be short, it so happened at the same houre when her dead Body was cast against the Shipps, the Red-rose Knight went vp the Hatches to take the fresh ayre: where (looking about) he espyed the dead Lady richly attyred in cloth of Gold, that gorgiously stone in the Water, the which he pre∣sently caused to be taken vp and brought into the Ship: where looking wi••hly vpon her, he knew her perfectly well: and after stooping to kis••e her pale Lippes, hee found the bloudy Letter which hee had compeled, ••r••pt in Seare-cloth: so, taking it and reading the contents thereof, his Blood began to change, and to war redde like the Rose, and presently againe as pale as ashes. Whereat Sir Launcelat and the other Knights were greatly abashed, but especially Anglitora, who demaunded the c••use of his griefe? Whereunto the Red-rose Knight was not able to answere a word, the sorrow of his heart so exc••eded: yet not withstanding, he deliuered the bloody letter to Anglitora, the contents whereof are these that follow.

The bloody Letter of Queene Caelia.

THou bright Star of Europe, thou Chosen of England for prowesse & beautie: When wilt thou return to fulfill thy promise made vnto her, that many a day hath had her eyes planted vpon the Seas after thee, shedding more teares in thy absence, then the Heauens conteineh Starres? Ah my deare Loue, makest thou no reckoning nor account of thy promise that thou madest to me at thy departure? knowest thou not, that euery noble mind is bound to keepe his word, vpon paine of re∣proach and shame? but thou hast infringed it, and hast broken thy oath of Knighthood: which no excuse can recouer. For since I last saw thy Shippe floating on the Seas. I neuer came within my Pallace till the writing hereof, nor neuer lay in Bedde to take my rest, nor ne∣uer sate in iudgement on my Countries causes: but for the space of fortie dayes, I stood vpon a Rocke, ex∣pecting thy returne, till famine constrayned me to de∣part. There haue I stood day and night, in raine and in snow, in the cold of the morning, and in the heate of the Sunne; in fasting, in prayers, in desires, in hope; and finally, languishing in dispaire and death: Where, when I could heare no newes of thy returne, I despe∣rately cast my selfe into the Sea, desiring the Gods, that they would bring mee either aliue, or dead to thy presence, to expresse the true affection that I haue euer borne thy noble Person: Thus fare thou well. From her that liued and dyed with an vnsported minde.

Thine owne true Louer, till we meete in the Elizian fields: thy vnhappy Caelia Queene of the Fayerie Land.

THus when faire Anglitora had read those bloody lines, she greatly lamented her vnhappy death: & withall, requested the Red-rose Knight, in that she dyed for his sake, to beare her Body into England, and there most honourably intombe it: to which he most willingly consented. So causing her body to be inbalmed, they hoysted sayle, and departed towards England: into which Country, they within foure moneths safely ariued. At whose comming, the Inhabitants and dwellers, greatly re∣ioyced, but chiefely the Red-rose Knight and his company, who at their first ariuall, knéeled downe vpon the Earth, and gaue God thankes for preseruing them from so many dangers and perils, to their high renowne, and triumphant victoryes.

After this, they intombed the body of Caelia most honourably as befitted a Princesse of her calling. This being done, they de∣parted towards Pendragon Castle, standing in Walles, where as then King Arthur kept his royall Court: where being ari∣ued, they found the King, and many other Nobles in a readines to giue them a Princely welcome: amongst whom was faire Angelica the Nun of Lincolne, mother to the Red-rose Knight; yet kept in so secret a manner, that neither he, nor she, had any suspition thereof, but spake one to another as méere strangers, The discouery of whom, discoursed at large in the second part of this Historie: as likewise the strange fortune of Caelias little Sonne, which the Ladyes in the Fayerie land called by the name of the Fayerie Knight; and by what meanes he came to be called the Worlds Tryumph: with many other strang accidents, &c. But now (to conclude this first part) the Red-rose Knight and the faire Anglitora were solemnely maried to∣gether, and liued long time in King Arthurs Court in great ioy, and tranquilitie, and peace.

FINIS.

R. I.