The most famous and renowned historie, of that woorthie and illustrous knight Meruine, sonne to that rare and excellent mirror of princely prowesse, Oger the Dane, and one of that royall bond of vnmatchable knighthoode, the twelue peeres of France Wherein is declared, his rare birth, and stranger bringing vp, with his most honorable conquest of Ierusalem, Babilon, and diuers other cities from the pagan infidels: with many other memorable accidents of wonderous consequence. By I.M. Gent.

The most ancient famous mother of Histories, the exquisite Historie of Prince MERVINE, the sonne of OGER the Dane, who conquered Ierusalem, Babylon, and di∣uers other Cities from the Pagans▪ with many memorable accidents of wondrous consequence. (Book 1)

CHAP. I.

¶The famous History of the noble and valiant knight Meruine, 1 and first of his birth, 2 and the giftes giuen him by the Fairies.

YOu may reade in the historie mak∣ing mētion of Oger duke of Den∣marke (a country neare adioyning vnto France) how that after by his prowesse he had conquerd from the Turks, Pagans, and Infidels, Ba∣bylon, Ierusalem, and many other townes▪ (countries imp••gning our holy Christian faith) hee the same 〈…〉〈…〉

discourse much too long, and finish vp may book onely with descriptions. But many tedious nights nor daies had not runne out the labouring circuit of their minutes, before the beautiful Morgue, sister to king Artus, became all inuir••∣ned with his loue, and by the excellencie of her subtill skill intangled him as much or more with her affection, in so ve∣hement sort, that the Lady who was passing wise, prophet like knowing what in after time should be••all them two, purchased so much her own blessednes, that she was carnal∣ly accompanied of the good duke Oger, & that in so good an houre, that by the prouidence of the Highest, she became with child, the very sight wherof added an vnspeakable ioy to the heart of Oger: and all the fairies of princely estima∣tion, holding a counsell amongst themselues, said one to an other: Now, and not too soone, is it sufficiently apparant that the Fairie Morgue hath not euer in vnprofitable ••lumber consumed her time with Oger, because by her waking déed she hath giuen testimony to vs all, that now she hath conceiued, and is great with childe. If it prooue a sonne, it is reason that for his chiualrie hee be more estéemed than any liuing in his time, because his brith is more honorable than any of former age hath bin. Thus argued the Fairies about Morgue their companion, who naturally bare her fruit nine moneths, and in the extreme end of the last, with great trauell she was deliuered of a beautifull sonne, such, and so faire, as vntill then had not any eye beheld. To his birth came many haughty and excelling Fairie dames, who beholding the eie-inchanting beauty of the Babe, blessed it, and gaue it to the mother, who with an ouerflowing heart tide-full of most deare affection, seeing his incomparabl•• features, wherein true beautie had onely sworne to hold his habitation, kissed and rekissed it, as if numberlesse sa∣lutes should make his happy fortunes numberlesse in ac∣count, and then lifting her eies to heauen, thus or in this

maner prayed: True God of glory quoth she, I humbly implore and require thée, that of thy holy bountie thou wilt bestow such or so much more diuine spirite, puissance, and true magnanimitie on this Babe, happily begotten on me, as thou didst inspire in my deare loue Oger, his princely lord and father, and that he may alonely resemble or excéed him in the glorious actions of euerliuing knighthoode. So swéetly spake Morgue these swéet orizons that the God of heauen exhaled her prayers, and registred in the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of the skie, that he should become the most redoubted in the world. After came king Artus into the chamber of the La∣dy, with him Oger and many other barons, to sée the new child: at whose approach came to Oger a fairie Lady, who being of a glorious and renowned spirite, was famous for her vertues thorow the Fairie land: her name was Mer∣uina, and she said vnto him, Good duke of Denmarke ho∣nour me in giuing my name vnto thy sonne▪ and make me eternally happy, by being his happy godmother. ••a••y qd Oger, I consent. After these speaches was the infant car∣ried to be baptised, and was named Meruin, Artus and O∣rient, two mighty kings being his godfathers: who after the Sacrament performed, gaue him rich gifts.

2 Which so soone as Meruina perceiued, she said vnto them: My Lords, you haue inriched this infant with the treasure of this world, but I will make him wealthy with the ••••wels of Heauen. Your gifts handmaids to Fortune, by ••ischance may 〈◊〉〈◊〉 from him: my gift the controller of 〈◊〉〈◊〉▪ ••hall for no decrée forsake him. I will therefore, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 will is my gift, for I giue my will, that he be euer 〈◊〉〈◊〉 the eies of all creatures, and especially amongst Ladies, who during his life, shall h••ld him dearer than their owne liues. At these speaches the Fairie Gratiana, (who all the while leaned on the fountaine) grew wroth,

as well for enuy of the giftes giuen to the little Meruine, as for a priuate indignation that she bare vnto Morgue, in that she had not enioyed some of those ••ient night-plea∣sing delights, which she enioyed with her excellent Oger, and therfore answering an vntuned thought with an high ••a••ring voyce, saide: And I from that great God which created the vniuerse, and man to his owne image, giue him this gift, that Meruine shal•• faile in the assault of one bat∣tell, and be taken prisoner with such enda••agement, that no fortitude shall euer release him, till a man whose mother died in her childbirth be his deliuerer. Such words as these vtterd the false fairy Gratiana, which effected according to her wish, because he was deliuered (as saieth the Historie) from Minor, with whom he was fiue yéeres prisoner, by Robastus, as shal h••••eafter appeare in processe of the story. Meruina hearing Gratianaes hate-vomiting words, she grew excéeding sorrowfull, till sorrow comming to rage, made her with her fist giue Gratiana such a blowe on her face, that the blood which should haue made hir chéeks blush for her immodesty now sought to drown thearth for sustai∣nin•• her▪ This ••••m••lt bred 〈◊〉〈◊〉 among the Fairies, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 with a world of euills on the noble Christians. Dis∣pitefully sad was Gratiana for the blow receiued, but in re∣gard at that instant she could not do what she would (tuto∣red by patience) she would not what she wished, yet in her soule made a solemne protestation solemnely to reuenge her iniurie, as indéed she did. After a fairi•• named Galiana, de∣••••rous to moli••••e the angry Meruina, came to her, saying, Swéet sister, why should fury haue such furious superiori∣tie in thy faire selfe, as to bathe they hand in a bl••••dy ocean? Belieue me, d••are creature, thou oughtest rather to haue wash•• with patience in white lillies: but be milde, appea•••• thine anger, and I will giue to thy little sonne a gift shall 〈◊〉〈◊〉 all thy i••ies▪ and this it is▪ what pri••cesse, lady, or

woman in the world he shall daine to kisse, that and the selfe same ioy shal she possesse by that outward imbracement, as if he had consumed whole nights in those pleasures, which to nature is only priuate: and sith I am ascertained he shal be furnisht with incomparable valure, I giue him this gift, that he shal neuer be slaine or vanquisht in prinate or pub∣like battell: and when he hath liued till marriage hath made him father of a sonne of twelue yeares old, then my will is that he returne into Fairia, and hauing kissed me before all the Ladies of our land, make me his especiall loue, who ne∣uer had nor will haue any till his returne. When Merui∣naes eares had receiued the musicke of Galianaes spéech, she gaue her infinite thanks, and caused king Artus, king Orient, and all the lady Fairies to doe the like, only Grati∣ana excepted, who stood sorrowfully dumbe for her blow re∣ceiued. The childe (as you haue heard) was baptized, and rebrought into the Chamber of his mother, who notwith∣standing the torment of her trauell, yet thorow the loue of her faire infant, she forgate thexcéeding passion of her more than great sorrow: and when the Ladies came in, they found her fast asléepe, whom they being loth to awake from out her slumber, they gently laid the childe in her bosome, and so departed without any noise making, onely the false Fairie Gratiana staid behind, who had alonging desire to imbesell the infant Meruin, of whom the other Fairies had no regard, neither that she staid vnder any false intent: but when al the Ladies were gone, vnkind Gratiana took litle Meruine from his mothers breasts, and holding him in her armes, said, Now doe I wish, and I would I wore in the selfe same maner that at this present I am, at the port of Luterne, which standeth vpon the Sea: and so soone as euer she had spoken, instantly she and the infant were in the same place, whence issued the neuer to be abated sorow of Morgue: when she awakd and found not by her the best

of her deare selfe, I m••••ne her deare Meruin. Whereupon she demanded of her attendants whether he had bin broght backe vnto her, or no: Yes Madam, said one of them, Ma∣dam Mer••ina his godmother, laid him close by your selfe. Alas said Morgue, and where is he then become? Then began the good Lady greatly to lament, and to powre such vncontrolled oceans of teares from the heauenly windows of her eies, that the roaring tempests of her languor was easily heard of Artus her brother, Orient, Orger and all the Fairie Ladies, who incontinently rusht into her chamber, the renowned Oger asking her what she ailed, auowing that the greatest monarch in the world should not dare to do hir that wr••ng, which his sword should not redeliuer and reuenge. Then her attendants (for dumbe sorrow kept her silent) tolde him how Gratiana whom Meruina had striken, in reuenge of her disgrace had stollen the childe, and borne him to some vnhabitable climate. Oger hea∣ring this, gaue displeasure leaue to tyrannize vpon his hart, and by the gréedinesse of his passion robbed his loue the fai∣rie Morgue of some of her lamentations: for after conside∣ration had recalled her reason, and hope assured her that no power would vnworthily be against her, she gaue a comma (though no period) to her mourning, and recomforted her only lord Oger with this or like oratorie: Oger my loue said she, that diuine power which hath sent vs Meruine, will (if it please him) preserue our Meruine, and when the winter daies of our extreame fortunes hath fully bound vp our hopes in forzen ribs of ice, we shall againe regréet the chéerefull Aprill of our Summerioyes, and gather new blossoms from our drowned plants. Thus spake Morgue to the good Oger, whom we will leaue, and speake of the Fairie Gratiana, who (as you haue heard) cari••ed away Meruine.

CHAP. II.

1 How the Fairie Gratiana repented her selfe for the carrying away of Meruine, 2 how she found a her∣mit keeping three goats, 3 how he shewed her the way to find the port of the sea.

GRatiana (by her wish) sodainely arriued in a wood neighbouring the port of Luterne, but being in a place so desolately solitary, tainted with remorse in her owne conscience, heartily she repented herselfe, aswell for hauing stol∣len the only hope of that age, prince Meruine, as also for hauing exiled her selfe from Fairia her natiue Countrey: wherefore desirous to returne, and holding the infant in hir armes, she said, Now do I wish (and be my wish auailable for my woes sake) would I were in Fairia in mine owne pallace, so, and in such maner, that I neither doe nor shall need aske pardon for my misdéed. Thus spake reuengefull Gratiana: but the storie replieth that because she had re∣uenged her selfe▪ by her vnlawfull stealth, the God of the Christians grew offended with her, and took from her both her power of wishes and wishing: which when the Fairie perceiued, she fell on her knées and said, alas, only merciful God▪ I know I haue gréeuously offended against thée, yet notwithstanding thy pity greater than thy power, may par∣don my misdéed, which both repents and displeaseth me, and then turnd she her speech to Meruine, saying; Ay me, swéet

childe, that mine offence to thine infancie hath lost mée the delight of my life, and yet shall the burden of more then my sorrow (vnlesse 〈◊〉〈◊〉 gracious power preuent) bee borne on thy tender shoulders: woe is me▪ what had I in my head when I conceiued this wickednesse against thée, nothing but euill? yet despight these eu••••s ought some good thing befall me, in that I will nourish the childe so long as I shalbe able with such ac••••es as God or fortune shall send me.

2 Gratiana in this manner repenting her selfe, rose vp, and beganne to go to a valley beneath the wood, with the in∣fant in her armes, and in her passage a long, she perceiued a holy hermit, who reposed himselfe in the same wood, kéeping thrée goates in that forrest. When the Fairie came nere him she saluted him, and sayd, Graue wise man (for so thy white haires, heralds of experience, tell mée) where, I pray thée, standeth the next town or village? or where may I find any woman to giue sucke to this faire childe, which is almost pi∣ned to death with extreme hunger, whilest, alas, I haue no∣thing to giue it but my teares, too vnsauorie a firrop for so princely a taste. Hardly had she ended this last word, but by the will of some almighty willer, one of the thrée goates left the hermit, and came to the Lady, making not bestiall, but rather diuine signes, that she would suckle thinfant: which the Fairy ouerioyd to behold, thanked God, and kissing the babe, laid it on the ground, and the goat placed hirselfe néere to the child, that it might quietly suck, for such was the wil of the Greatest. When the hermit saw this myracle, and saw diuine charitie much greater than Nature, haue ruling in a si••ple goat, grew much abashed, asking the Fairie if she were a Christian. Father (qd she) I am a true Christi∣an: and then she began to discourse vnto him all the story of her euill, how she had stolne Meruine, and for that cause, briefly to speake, she told him from point to point all before

written. Whilest the hermit sate amazed, and many times signed himselfe with the crosse, in token of wonder, than sayd he vnto her: Faire loue know that I am a baptised Christiā, liuing in this forest yet are all the inhabitants of this climat none other but pagans a••d Infidels, which neither loue nor adore the name of Christ I••sus: and therfore to thend you may be circumspect in your affaires, know that if you con∣fesse your selfe a Christian, you and this Fairie childe shall die the death.

3 Therefore be wisely warie, and I will shewe thée the way which leadeth to the port Luterne, where ariue many marchants of forren lands: and to the end that this faire cre∣ature, which you name Meruine, shall sustaine no want, I will giue you the goate which hath offered it selfe vnto him: for such is the will of him that willeth all goodnesse. After this spéech, the hermit, named Crespin, which all his time had bene holy, and holy Crespin intituled, hauing shewed her the port, tooke leaue▪ and Gratiana addressed her selfe to her way, commending to God her and her intention. So parted they, the Fairy carying the child, and the goat atten∣ding both: at length she came vnto the port where she per∣ceiued a small barke, that with ho••sed sailes was euen then in departing: whereupon she cried, Lordes, for Mahomet and his temple Mecas sake stay, and let we passe with you. When the master vnderstood her, and that she spake of Ma∣homet: (for they were Painims) he replied, Haste thée then loue, and if thou haste, we will stay a little for thée. At these words the Fairie added such wings to her féet, that immedi∣atly she entred into the ship, and with her entrance the ship departed, plowing so spéedily through the furrows of the salt waues, that in short space Gratiana perceiued a verie faire citti••. Gentlemen (sayd she to the Pagans) I perceiue yon∣der below a very strong citie, I pray you tell me what towne

it is, whether it be Christian or Paynim? When the iea∣lous Pagans heard the demaund of the Fairie ladie they mistrusted in themselues that she was a Christian: where∣fore one of them fiercely aunswered her: Ladie, art thou a Christian, or one of our law? Reuerend sir (sayd she) I was neuer Christian, but am a Pagan. Then one who was of Montment, by calling a marchant, amazedly viewed, and often reuiewed Meruine, whom the oftener he beheld, the of∣tener he saw his beauties redouble. Whereupon inamored of the infants perfection, he came to the ladie, and asked her if she would sell her child? In good faith (quoth the Fairie) no: for it is the sonne of my sister: for whose loue (so farre as I am able, if Mahomet giue me leaue) I will carefully nourish it. Madam (sayd this marchant, whose names was Barbin) from what countrey is your iourney deriued? Sir (sayd shée) from Antioch, where infinite misfortune hath chanced to my kindred, who haue béene traiterously slaine by a false Christian, on whom I beséech Mahomet raine an eternall curse: for he hath despoiled mée of all my goods, and left me no comfort, but this sillie in∣fant, my nephew, whom by the diuine ayd of Mahound I nourish, that hée may be my glorie in my decaying and rui∣ned age.

CHAP. III.

1. The Fairie Gratiana accorded to the desire of Barbin 2. Barbin carried her to Montment vnto his house. 3. How he made his wife beleeue that Meruine was his sonne.

BArbin the Pagan finding the Fairy would by no meanes sell the princely Meruine, yet inly beholding the necessitie wherein she stood, sayd vnto her, What age (deare lady) hath this childe aspired vnto? By Mahomet (answered she) it hath not ful∣ly accomplished three dayes. Trust me (sayd the Painim) if you will goe with me vnto Montment, you shall be so well intreated as your degrée requireth, and your childe nourish∣ed aecording to the excellencies of his beauty: onely to one thing you must accord which though it carrie falshood in the forehead, yet shall it keepe danger from your heart: and that is, to affirme this childe is mine: for which report I will raine shewers of golde and siluer into your bosome, & guard yourperson and fortunes safer then the waking dragons the Hesperian Cytrons. To these wordes Gratiana inclined her eares, whilest her thoughts to her thoughts thus whispe∣red: Since it pleaseth the God of heauen, and that destinie is my director, euen as I haue stollen this most excellent infant (for which I know I haue grieuously sinned, lost my free∣dome, and am vtterly banisht from those dignities I inioyed

as being a Fairie) so will I now doe my greatest endeuour for this princely orphant. And for I know nothing in me to reobteine my losses, I will what he will, more bequeathi••g our fortunes into the hands of God then according to the de∣sire of this Pagan: and then exalting her wordes which be∣fore were silent, she said: Faire sir, from whom I behold a diuine affection, issuing vnto my forsaken nephew: tell me, are you married, or no? Madam, I am (sayd hée) and haue bene this fourtie yéeres, and more: so haue I also one faire sonne, not far from hence, whose name is Tirus Sir (quoth she) since it pleaseth you to offer vs the good wée can desire, we will euer obey you, and go where you shall please to dis∣pose vs. In such discourses as this they consumed the night till the next morning, who had no sooner saluted the Sun, but they arriued on the shoare, impouerishing the shippe to make the land more wealthie.

2 Barbin and Gratiana bearing the little Meruine in her armes, marched together, and the goate followed them, the which whensoeuer the childe cried, was readie with her dugge to appease his wéeping. And as they went Barbin sayd vnto her: Excéedingly am I delighted with the beau∣tie of this infant, therefore deare ladie forget not to affirme as you haue promised. Of that she bade him take no care, for her care should be, that no fault should issue form her but carefulnesse, He highly commended her answere, and then further sayd: Ladie, diuers discourses haue I had with you, and yet haue I not demanded the name of this childe: let it not then be offensiue that I now importune it. Sir (quoth she) he is called Meruin, and so shall you name him in your owne house, when you come to your wife: but woe is mée, a mightie suspition throbbeth in mine heart, lest your wife should imagine you haue begot this childe of mée, and so by that meanes turne an vndeserued wrong vpon my life. Lady

(said he) abandon that suspition, and be dreadlesse of such e∣uill: for my wife by nature is so simple, that in an hundred yeares, she would not be mistresse of such an imagination: trust me, she is noue of those diuellish creatures, who ouer∣looke the fortunes of their husbands, but only wise, in that she wants the depth of such in-searching wisedome. In this sort, clipping Times wings with the tediousnesse of talke. they entered into the faire City of Montment, in whose streetes Barbin stayed not, till he came to his owne house, where he found his wife, who ouer-ioyed with the ioy of his sight, ranne and threw her armes about his necke, saying: Swéet loue, deare life, all my comforter, welcome all wel∣come: that I sée thee I am satisfied: and thy life sufficeth me. Loue (said he) thanks to Mahomet, I liue, and haue happily well made exchange of my marchandise: for I haue brought home spices, drugges, and oiles and with them ri∣cher much than all them, this fairechild, and this yong la∣die, whose birth is renowmed, yet her vertues much more magnificent: therefore for my loues sake, do to her and her vertues seruice. Sir (said his wife) haue you indéed brought home this infant?

3 By Mahomet (said he) I haue, neither wil I di••••em∣ble with thee, he is mine owne, begot by me of a yong lady of Milan in Lumbardy, who was triumphant faire, for faire in her only triumphed, but in this childs birth she died: and here behold her sister, who hath promised to liue with me. Wherefore sweet loue and onely companion of my bed, be kinde to it, which is the glory of my kinde, neither let them want what is behoouefull for their extremities. Also let my sonne Tirus know as much, because he is his brother, and command him to come vnto me. Loue (said she) for a trueth, thy sonne is at the schoole, but no sooner shall the morning prepare way for the sunnes beams, but I will send for him

vnto thée: meane space I hold it conuenient we séeke for some Nurse for this faire infant. But he tolde her it was néedlesse, because that gentle goat supplied the place of such a louing foster-mother. All that hee tolde her she belieued. So the Fairie and Meruine remained in the house of that marchant, and was nursed with the milke of the goate: for such was the prouidence of the Greatest, who had predesti∣nated him to conquer a monster with thrée heads, named Logrus, which was begot by a diuell on the fairy Gratiana: which diuell made earnest petition, that this Logrus should neuer die, but by a mortall man, that neuer was norished with the milke of a woman: for he thought it impossible to bring vp a childe without womans milke. But the gentle Meruine, whose fame is renowmed in the marble ••••rma∣ment, slew him, and cut off his thrée heads: as ye shal read in the end of this present history: till when we will returne to our former matter.

CHAP. IIII.

1. Berea daughter of the King of Meurmont, fel in loue with Meruine, being at schoole. 2. Of the loue-paine she indured. 3. and other accidents.

OUr present historie, which anciently hath been extracted out of the Librarie in the holie mo∣nastery of Saint Dennis in France, demon∣strateth, that Meruine the sonne of the wise excelling Duke Oger, was so rarely nursed

by the goat, and so carefully maintained by Barbin and his wife, that among al the breathing starres of beauty within the city of Montment, nor amongst all the excellent faces of that countrey, was there found any worthy to be compared to his, much lesse equall. Being fiue yeares olde. Barbin prouided him a graue schoolemaster, exactly furnished with all the liberall Sciences: vnder whom the gentle Meruine (to whom Nature was neuer found a stepmother) learned more than all the rest (and there were many) that were in the Schoole. All which made Barbin, his wife and the fai∣rie Gratiana exceeding ioyfull. The storie saieth, that the house of the schoolemaster, vnder whom Meruine learned the studies of Oratorie and Logike stood next to the house of the mother of her, who had nursed the Kings daughter, who at that time gouerned Montment, Tarrarie, and Lu∣terne, who called himselfe, Mermont, and his wife Mari∣na. This king Mermont, had sent his daughter to a castle ealled Turgon, standing within the citie, where a graue lady instructed her in all the accomplements of ver∣tue: the name of the princesse was Berea, excelling all the maiden race of that country in beauty, yet her wisedome e∣qualling her fairenesse, but her vertues excelling both. This virgine Berea often times went vnto Meruines Schoole∣master, to learne the hidden secrets of Art (for she was who∣ly dedicated to philosophy) & one day (fatall aboue the rest) as Meruine was before his master recording his lesson, the virgine with an affectionate desire (for Loue at that instant had armed himselfe to surprise Perfection, cast her eies vp∣on him, whose beauty in her eies like the Sunne reflecting on a rocke of cristall, redoubled each feature, and of vnions made so many infinites, that her desire grew more innume∣rable, and loues wounds in her hart altogether numberles.

2 At that instant the princely maid was not aboue ten

yeares old, and Meruine was fully as much: yet was her constancie, discretion and wisedome so agedly graue, and of so excellent a temper, that albeit continually she suffred the extreamest extreame of loues martyrdome, as a troubled thought, a tormented heart, a di••temperd braine, and a dy∣ing spirit, yet did she neuer in any sort, either to her father, mother, or most priuate companion, by the smallest shadow giue testimony of her hugest torment: notwithstanding, when louelinesse drew her selfe from her selfe, only to be a∣lone, then would she sommon her conceits, and muster vp whole armies of cogitations, to think▪ confirme, and main∣taine the beauties of her Meruine, and to euery conclusiue argument, swore by Mahomet, he only should be her loue: yet had she no sooner decreed that excellent iudgement, but when she remembred him to be the son of Barbin the mar∣chant, then found she contrary motions, auowing faultines in her election. But loue, who is as reasonlesse as he is infi∣nit, drew her from those doubts, and only taught her thus, I wil, because I must. Then was her loue such & so great, that for the space of tenne dayes she left the vse of meate or drinke▪ and found no ease but in the sight of Meruine, so in∣tollerable was her frensie, and so impatient her desire, desi∣ring Meruine, who all the while had not one thought of ei∣ther her, or of her passion: only when he perceiued her ernest regard of him▪ he being full of princely curtesie, would hum∣bly salute her. All which salutations were torments to in∣crease her paine and woes that held her wounds more open: for why, she durst not discouer that, which all her wits could hardly couer, no though in it she had beene assured of a safe recouerie.

3 Thus remained she the space of fiue yeres: in thend whereof came an ambassadour to Montment, who ascen∣ding the pallace, and entering the hall, where he found the

mightie King Mermont accompanied with his Queene, his princely daughter Berea, and many of his priuate Ba∣rons, before whome prostrate on his knees he fell and said: Mahomet the Great, all-holder of our estate, saue and de∣fend the mightie Baucamont King of Damas, who by mee wisheth thee health, and thine owne wishes, regreeting thy puissance with this letter, which I humbly intreat thy ma∣iestie to accept. When the redoubted King Mermont heard the speech of the embassadour, hee stoode amazed to thinke what businesse Baucamont should haue with him: but taking the letter, and breaking opne the seale, he read the tenure thereof, which instantly sent a displeasing sor∣row to his heart, because the King of Damas in prow•• wordes commaunded his daughter the faire Berea in mar∣riage. But Mermont calling the messenger saide: By Mahomet, thy maister is much too saw••y and arrogant to commaund me to giue him my daughter; the which not∣withstanding her yong yeares I had doone, but that in de∣spite he hath sent so meane an embassade for hir. Wherefore be wel ascertained, he shall neuer possesse her, though it c••st me a hundred thousand of my choisest subiects. Is there a∣ny colourable shewe in thy maister, to marry my daughter, when he sendeth no greater a peere of his countrey then thy selfe to demaund her? But what he hath done is but an in∣dex of the pride with which his heart is furnished; say so to him, for if thou so saist it not, & what besides else I haue said, by Mahomet in despite or thy King, I will make thy head poore, in taking away thine ears, two dulauditors Mighty King, answered the messenger (whose feare-shaken heart made all his body tremble) be well assured I will deliuer all that you haue spoken, or what else your maiestie shall please to commaund me. Be gone then (quoth the King) and bid thy maister seeke him a wife in some other climate: for Berea soareth higher then the sunne hath power to carry

his eielight. Thus parted the messenger, on whom no rest either by night or day dared to aduenture till he came before Baucamont his Lord and Soueraigne, to whom he saide: By Apollo, great King of Damas and my liege Lorde, in vaine is thy care to entertaine loue, when thou hast lost Berea, whose eies onely create loue: in briefe, her must thou neuer enioy, for so her father hath sworne, nor I in de∣spight of thée mine eares, vnlesse I tell thée that so he hath sworne. More would not Baucamont endure to heare, but all inraged with fury, swore by Mahomet, Alcheron, and the shrine of Meca, hée would enioy Berea, yea though shée were the sole paramor to Iupiter, or garded with an Hercu∣lean army: all which to performe, hee instantly sent foorth summons to muster all his people, and to commaund all his tributaries to serue him, protesting with force of armes to finde that ioy which by force of words he could not enioy. But only to desteny are the decrées of heauen knowen, for he erred in his conceits, sith into the world was borne a crea∣ture excellent enough to defend Berea, I meane rarely ac∣complished Meruine the sonne of Oger, supposed the sonne of Barbin, who at that instant was growne mighty in bo∣dy, more in minde, most in beauty. Barbin who tende∣red him excéedingly, shewed him the trade of marchandise, and how to exchange for the greatest profite: but the bent of his mind was contrary to that course, for his minde wholly was addicted to ride horses, tosse pikes, plant battels, and other feates of famous chiualrie, to which a while we will leaue him, and will speake of the king Mermont.

CHAP. V.

1 Mermont the king proclaimeth a great Iust for triall of his Knights. 2 Meruiue doth great wonders.

WHen the King of Damas Embassadour was departed, y^e mighty King Mermont (not with∣out cause) fearing that Baucamont would make warre vpon him, proclaimed a solemne tourneament to be held within the citie of Montment, for triall of all his knights, whi••her assembled an innumerable company of kings, princes, barons, and knights, all subiects vnto him; amongest the rest came a wealthy Prince named Clarissa much more beholden to For∣tune for his riches, then to Nature for his valure: for though he was not reputed a coward, yet those which knew him knew he durst not fight. This Clarissa lodged in the house of Barbin. And when the first day of triumphes came, which by decrée were to continue thrée dayes, and a massie cuppe of golde proposed for a prize to the Uictor, euery one armed himselfe, and Clarissa also armed himselfe outwardly more rich then any, though inwardly his heart was tattered with a trustlesse resolution. When Meruine beheld him armed, he humbly intreated the Pagan that hée might attend his person to the Tilt-yard. Clarissa when he beheld through the reflexion of the yong mans beuty an vnmatchable splen∣dor of concealed valure, he exchanged his feare to hopefull

audacitie and condescended to his intreaty, des••ring the youth that if he sawe (as doubtlesse he should) any colde streames of fountaines engirdle his temple, that he would s••eke with the fire of his infant vertue to drie vp those vndo∣ing ouerflowes. Meruine coragiously bade him take cou∣rage, for there was no doubt of hard measure, onely (saide he) it is conuenient that I haue a horse to runne after you, by which I may sustaine you in the greatest danger: sweete are thy words and reasonable (answered Clarissa) and forth∣with commaunded, and a horse was deliuered to Meruine, on which hee mounted and attended Clarissa, o•• whome spurres were not spared till he came to the tilt-yard. When the Lady virgin Berea, who was enuironed with her mo∣ther and the other Ladies beheld the gallant yong Meruine enter into the listes, her heart daunced in her cristall bo∣some, as if not there, but in him was her onely paradise. Wo alas she loued him dearely, who neglected her wholly, and often whispered to her soule, so Mahomet would, I would Meruine, to whom onely I am a prisoner, whose beautie onely hath surprised mine affection, were the sonne of some pagan potentate, then would I follow him, then would I be his handmaide then would I serue him, then would I go with him; but if hee would espouse me, O my soule! how happy were my loue in such a happy requitall, other then himselfe no goddesse would wish for: for pouerty with him is richer then the pallace of the greatest Emperor in Turkie. Thus would the excellent Berea often dispute with her selfe, imagining Meruine still the sonne of Bar∣bin the marchant. Anone the tourney beganne, wher•• staues flew in the aire like dust, and dust like smoakie ••••aues threatned the element; at length a pagan fierce and strong ranne with his launce in his rest against Clarissa, to whom he gaue such an vnkind blow, that had not yoong Meruine bin, he had tumbled to the ground: but the princely youthes

vertue sustained him, yet so heauy was the incounter, that Clarissa as much or more scared than wounded, returned to his lodging, where being disarmed, hee laied that heauie complaint on Fortune which iustly should haue bin intitu∣led to his owne weakens. Meruine seeing him disarmed, his heart tickled, and his blood fiered with an emulation of honour, which set an insatiate longing on his thoughts to giue some blowes and to prooue his bodie: wherefore hee fell vppon his knées to Clarissa and saide, I beséech you faire prince, for the honor of Mahomet, bestow your armes vpon me, to the end I may goe to the triumph, and ap∣prooue my ••rength. And here do I solemnely protest, that if I can incounter him whose proud arme hatgh dained you this indignitie, to do mine vttermost indeuour, to humble him a low or lower then the earth. After Clarissa with a∣stonishment had heard the yong princes desire, he willingly accorded to his wish: yet so, that Meruine should not accuse him: but when the Iusts were ended, if Fortune made him conquerour, he should leaue the honour, not to him∣selfe, but to Clarissa. Meruine to all most willingly a∣gréed, saying further: Beléeue mée prince, I will do my best to gaine the wealthy cup of the King, which also you shall haue for my desire is knowledge, no honour. At this Clarissa commaunded his chamberlaine to arme Meruine with his owne armes, which hée so secretly did, that the squiers of Clarissa knew it not. When he was armed, they brought him a most puissant and fierce courser, on which he mounted, and so departed, attended on by many squiers, who fully imagined him to be their Lord Cla∣rissa, who slept in his chamber like a dromedary with his cowardise. Meruine, whose spurres were Honour, and Desire, rode so speedily that in the end hee entred the lists, where valiantly hée meant to winne or conquere his for∣tune.

2 In the end charging his launce, he ran like a whirle∣wind against him who had hurt Clarissa: to whom he gaue a requitall blow, with such puissance, that he cast horse and man to the ground, so furiously, as for fiftéene dayes after he lay without motion. Then another Pagan of his con∣sort, turned towardes Meruine, on whom he brake his launce: but Meruine, who tooke pleasure in that martiall excercise, behaued himselfe with such vertue, that with the trunchion which remained in his hand, hée gaue him such a counterbuffe, that breaking his heart in his bosome, the Pagan died instantly in the place. What shall I néede to make a tedious discourse of a hastie conflict? In briefe, Meruine so couragiously behaued himselfe, that ere his thoughts could bée capable of rest, with his broken launce he threw tenne to the ground, of which not one euer rose a∣gaine, to the wondrous amazement of all the beholders. Then began the crie of the multitude, to exalt him, thinking it had bin Clarissa, euery one exclaiming aloude, Clarissa of Affrike is he who ought onely to be estéemed. At this excla∣mation, a Pagan▪ on whose helme all the day before. Honour sate twining her golden tresses, now enuious that Clarissa had courted his mistresse, swore by Mahomet, he should neuer enioy her fauour: and forthwith pricked towardes Meruine, who had newly recouered a launce from one of his squires, and turning his horse, either incountred other with such a violent incounter, that their staues flying into small pieces, straue which piece should first flie into heauen to report neuer like séene vigour. But for all the Pagans force, it was impossible to mooue Meruine in his saddle, who sate like a tower against a tempest, or a rocke against the rage of the seas furie. But Meruins assault of a cleane contrary nature, lift the Pagan vppe into the aire with his launce, and thence let him fall with such violence, that he brake his right arme: and yet Meruine brake not his staffe,

but with the same ouerthrew foure more dead to the ground. At this began a greater crie amongst the knights, then be∣fore, saying: Clarissa of Affrike is onely inuincible, and Conquest herselfe is to him a handmaid. Then the king cau∣sed a retreat, and the triumphes to cease, for so a king intre∣ted: and euery one departed to his pauilion, and Meruine to his fathers house, with the squires of Clarissa: in whom ioy shewed the excéedingnesse of ioy, because their lord had gained the honour of the day. But Meruine made great haste to come to the chamber, which he ascended in all secret maner, for he had an excéeding great care that Barbin should not know any thing. When hée was come there Clarissa lay solely accompanied with the chamberlaine, who before had deliuered to Clarissa all what Meruine had done, he tooke him kindely about the necke, and kissing him, sayde: Mine honours crowne, and my liues garland, liue euer in this circle of mine armes, as thou shalt euer be in the com∣passe of my heart: for by thée am I renowmed in the court of king Mermont, and exalted for most valiant thorow th•• Pagan prouinces. Many other spéeches he vsed of kindnes, all which Meruine either excused or requited. To stand longer on accomplements, were tedious, and tediousnesse wearinesse: therefore in a word, all the honour of the thrée dayes triumphes, and the cup of golde, the reward of the vi∣ctor, were by the valour of Meruine, giuen to Clarissa, as most wise, & most valiant. And he was receiued by the king Mermont, to beare in battell, if any assailed him, the ma∣sters banner of Mahomet. So had vnknowen resolution ex∣alted well knowen cowardise: and though Meruine, in no∣thing was more carefull then in secret kéeping this secret, yet the most excellent virgin Berea afterwards attained the knowledge thereof by Clarissas chamberlaine, which alter serued Meruine, who as you haue heard, knightly beganne, and against Bau••mont continued with greater marueiles:

for he recouered king Mermount from his enemies. But let vs leaue those high actions, till they fall more fitly for our historie, and let vs a little speake of Barbin, who sent Mer∣uine to traff••que with another marchant, named Iacob▪ and with Tyrus his sonne, to whom he gaue great meanes for trade, and foure thousand poundes, which he ought another marchant in exchange of war••s he had before bought. Whē Iacob and the other marchant knewe Meruine should goe with them, they were vnwoontedly reioyced (for hée was dearely beloued of all men) and sayd, if Mahomet would but grant them safe conduct, they doubted not, but now to attaine the full perfection of wealth. Then they departed, Meruine, his brother Tyrus, and the good marchant Ia∣cob, to whom Barbin committed his children: for he had a∣uowed to them his best endeuours: and at length came to the port, where being imbarkt, they found the windes so a∣greeable to their course, that in short space, they all arriued at the port of Brandis, and went to lodge at the signe of the Harts horne, where Iacob was accustomed to inne: and found the hostesse sitting sadde and alone at the doore, whom Iacob saluted, and inquired if hée might there be lodged. The hostesse, whose name was Minea, answered: you may, and then sighed: for great was the inward trouble of her heart. Then the tables being couered, they fate downe: and the hostesse with regardfull eyes beheld Meruine, rarely surprised with the incomparable beautie, and wondrous furnisht lineaments of his body, which she beheld in him. But leaue wee them with their accates, and let vs speake of an∣other matter.

CHAP. VI.

1 The great treason of Brohars agaiust Basina sister to Minea. the great danger of Basina.

MInea the Ladie of the house where Iacob, Meruine▪ his brother Tirus, and the other marchants lay, had a sister named Basina, whose comely features, & well graced fauor, had not without desert purchased hir the ti∣tle of a Faire creature: besids, to those beau∣ties was wed so much wisedom, discretion and modest go∣uernement, that one without error might well commend her for most perfect. This Basina had to husband a pagan, passing wise in their Lawe, and very expert in the Art of Horsmanship: who altogither frequented the warres, tour∣neis, and schooles of chiualry: his name was Croisant, and he imbraced as the onely iewell of his life, one onely friend Brohars, whom he loued excéedingly, because he imagined the other loued him as vehemently, which in troth was but falshood and dissimulation. For Brohars became mortally inamored with Basina, the wife of Croisant, insomuch as he made a vow to his owne s••ule, that vnlesse Destiny it selfe preuented him, he would that forbidden fruit, which Nature, and the custome of diuine Lawes most vehement∣ly prohibiteth. To further which irreligious Oath, a day happened wherein Croisant went from his house in the

citie Montesteur, to a certaine tower himselfe had newly erected, and the traiterous Brohars taking aduantage of his absence, entred his house▪ where he found the Lady Ba∣sina, who receiued him kindly, because she shewed her hus∣band loued him dearely, and setting his lust-inflamed selfe close by her, as then accompanied with vertuous imagina∣tions, he with witty (if witty may be imputed to an act so vnwitty) and violent arguments, laied open the monstrous desire of his vncontrolled will: which when the Lady vn∣derstood a sooth in the meaning of so bad a meaning, she an∣swered him, it was against the lawes of hospitalitie to offer so hard amends for so great a merit, his spéeches being as vn∣fit, and his desires frantike: and for herowne part, rather would she be di••membred piece-meale, then think that her though••s should thinke of any but her husband. Where∣fore, in conclusion she told him, if euer againe his lips gaue leaue to his tongue to tell her the like villanie, she would giue notice vnto her husband, who thenceforth should not him for most inhumane. Whilest they were thus discour∣sing, stood by them one of the gentlewomen of the Lady cal∣led Ysea, who not seeming to regard their parlée, wel vnder∣stood and heard all they had vttered, as well his monstrous assault, as her modest defiance, all which was to her a no∣table safegard, as hereafter shall appeare. When Brohars had receiued this cold comfort to his accu••sed desire, hee left the Lady might••ly perplexed in heart, and sware by Maho∣met, to bring to ruine both her renowne and vertue. As the traitor went, he sommoned all the damned parliament of his senses together, to bethinke some notable treason a∣gainst her, whilest the good Lady▪ innocent of all euill, wept to thinke that men should be so wicked.

The story reports that this Brohars had a seruant na∣med Brison, whom one day when Croisant was at Monte¦steur,

hée called vnto him, and sayde: Brison, come hither, long haue I nourisht thee, better then a seruant, and doe loue thee as deare as my sonne: tell mee, to worke reuenge of my greatest enemie, wouldest thou not aduenture one for∣tune? say yea: Brison sayd yea▪ and I will heape so much treasure to thy store, that Turkie shall not boast of oue more wealthie. Sir (quoth Brison) I will performe all your will, let your will, will what it will: therefore ••peake, for there res••eth nothing but that you commaund me. Well doeth thine answere please me (replied Brohars:) then this it is, Basina the wife of my companion Croisant hath done mee that iniurie, which poiseth mine heart downe to death with sorrow: neither shall my soule take rest, till reuenge rocke me asleepe. The meane I haue thus deuised: thou in the euening shalt goe to Montesteur, and in the chamber of Croisant, if possiblie, with all secrecie hide thy selfe till mid∣night: at what time I will vndoubtedly call vpon him, who not for a world will faile my will: then so soone as hée is issued out, thou like stealing Salmacis shalt lay thée downe in his pla••e, with all the ••ilent secresie thou canst deuise, to the end that the false Basina▪ whose hate to mée is now in∣finite, may without suspect suffer thée. Long shalt thou not there remaine, but Croisant and I will returne: to whom I will tell, that of a long time his wife hath liued disloyall with thée, with many other arguments of her inchastitie.

Thus did he set abroach his treasons to Brison, who ac∣corded in euery point to his masters villanie▪ and for execu∣tion thereof, they parted and went to Montesteur, where Brohars found Croisant, who did entertaine him as kindly as hee loued him dearely: and in discourse they wasted the day till night with yron scepter arrested all creatures to rest: at what time Brohars tooke leaue of Croisant, and tolde him, that very eare••y in the morning he was to vse his pre∣sence

in an vrgent affaire: to which Croisant said, he was euer ready to performe the office of a friend and his will. Thus the false thinking traitour departed and left ••rison. Croisant and his wife, who when the houre of bed-time came, betooke them to their rest, thinking of nothing lesse than that which they neuer knew, to wit, euill. Basina at that instant was great with childe of a sonne, who in after∣time highly exalted the Christian faith. Brison, in whom treason had taken root, and now beganne to blossome, accor∣ding to his masters directions, was so close hid in the in∣nocents chamber, that the cunningest searching eie could neuer perceiue him: euery minute protesting to himselfe to accomplish the treason, for which he aduentured. Anon, the night, as halfe ashamed to beholde such intollerable shame, whippt her misty waggon with such haste thorow the hea∣uens, that in the eies of all creatures she had lost hir prehe∣minence, and yet had day in the skie no preregatiue: so as of waking eies it was then called twy-light. In this fatall houre arose Brohars, and comming to the pallace of Croi∣sant, sent a squire to tell him he stayed for him: at which first sommons, by the help of the same squire, Croisant at∣tired himselfe, and so departed without disturbing Basina, who as then slept soundly, for her innocency kept hir from care-taking. Scarcely was the good Croisant without the limits of the Chamber, but Brison the varlet of Brohars, profaning so holy a receptacle, entred into the bed, and lay by Basina. By this was Croisant and his false fairs-séem∣ing friend mounted vpon their horses, and gotten without the walls of the city, when Brohars thus began to discourse: Long time is it since (my déerest second selfe) I made th•• disloyalty of thy wife apparant to thy weake vnretaining eares, yet armed with flinty dulnesse, thou hast denied thy heart leaue to belieue me: and now therefore, if thou wilt prooue, by that proofe a more auailing Oratour. And for the

inseparable loue and holie marriage rites of our long ••on∣ioyned friendship, I will aduise thée, like him that is the purest part of my being. Yesterday when the declining of the Sunne made the day deny to be day, as if glory were gained in being adopted the euening, Brison my seruant reported to me, that he had enioyed the excellencies of thy excellent wife, this two yéeres and better: which shamefull report of a villaine, so galled me, that drawing my rapier the traitour hardly with life escaped: yet seeing him by flight repriued, I thought it in some measure my duetie, to let thée know so high a scandall, both that thou mightest re∣uenge and regard it. And by Mahomet he reported further, that the false woman concealed him many nights in a presse, in thy withdrawing chamber, where the strength of my imagination makes mée beléeue hée is at this present▪ which if thou wilt approoue, and we finde true, by Iupiter he dies, had he the liues often thousand. Hard it is to say, whether at this discourse Ielousie or Sorrowe tooke first holde on the heart of Croisant, yet both so excéedingly tormented him, that ledde by the furie of his passion, hee and Brohars leauing their squires behinde them, returned backe to his house, where entring secretly at a posterne gate, they light∣ed a torch, and mounting into his bed chamber found Brison layd by Basina whome enuious sleepe charmed against this miserable aduenture. Brohars at the first sight drew his rapier, and slew Brison in the bedde, ere almost any eie would haue iudged hee had seene him in the bedde (a iust reward for so vniust treacherie.) Then sayd Brohars▪ (deare selfe) how sorie am I for thy shame? by Mahomet, ••he iudgement of b••rning beareth in it too much lenitie: and by Iupiter, were she my sister, I would holde it treason a∣gainst the gods, if I excused her from being an instant sacrifice. Ha Croisant, Croisant, Let her be burned, let her be burned.

2 At these wordes, the no ill-thinking Basina awaked, and with an amazed shamefastnesse, swéetly blushed to sée her husband and Brohars so néere her bed: but when she saw the sheetes not full so white as her cheekes exceede them in blushing and perceiued them all stained with a warme goa∣rie liuorie, then shee scricked out aloud, and asked, what meant that prodigious token of tragedies? Ah strumpet, false breaker of wedlocke, and woorse then both, (answered Croisant) burnt shalt thou bee for the sinne wherein this night I haue found thee: and then drawing his rapier, hee drew the innocent ladie by the haires, who dead-slaine with amazment, lay at his feete. Whilest, Brohars (euer damned for this action) thus proudly insulted ouer her: Basina (quoth he) many times haue I tolde thee I would manifest thy sinne, yet wouldest thou not desist to sinne, but euermore increase thy sinne with Brison my seruant, whom this night I haue slaine in thy bed, amidst the paradise of his imbraces. Traitour, sayd the lady (awakened with these words, as with a cracke of thunder) falsly thou liest. Deare loue and lord, all dearer then my soule, my Croisant, vouchsafe to heare me. O for pittie couer thy shining weapon, and let my words haue thorow thine eares a gentle passage. Neuer haue I in my thought beene guiltie of that execrable treason which he vniustly vrgeth, nor would I be, were I tormented with woorse then fiers torture. All this my false imagined shame, vilde traitour, thou hast vene authour of, because I haue neglected thine owne monstrous desires, which (by hea∣uen) deare husband, he hath more then this whole yeere pro∣secuted. Falser then falshood (sayd Croisant) too apparant is thine euill: and then shaking his sword ouer her, like the wing of a haggard faulcon ouer a surprised doue, he draw her from her bed, and had there seuered her guiltlesse head from her as guiltlesse bodie, had not Isea her gentlewoman come foorth, who seeing her lord tyrannising our her poore inno∣cent

Lady cried so loud, that many barons which belonged to Croisant, came forth, and repriued the Lady from the hands of their then too cruell lord, saying: Alas my lord, what will you doe against your excellent wife, whose ver∣tuous wisedome, and wise virtue, is to women an example, and to men a iust admiration? Lords, said he, her ill is be∣yond the bounds of ill, and more than the degrée of ilnesse. It is prooued, it is prooued: and then he repeated all that Brohars had reported, and himselfe séene. Lords, said the Lady, by Mahomet, or what other god soeuer takes true patronage of our soule, my inward thoughts are innocent of this accusation. With that Isea, who (as ye haue read) heard all what had before passed betwéene Brohars and the lady, both his be••••iall assault, and her diuine repulse, said: By Iupiter, the god and patron of our country, my lady in thought and deed is altogether giltlesse: and this treason, false Brohars, is the inuention of thy braine, because shée hath euer lothed thée and thy detestable desires. When the lords heard Iseas constant affirmation, they chid their lord for too rashly following his owne will: and bade him listen to Isea, who protested the ladies most pure pure innocencie, auerring withall, the appeale she made against Brohars. Whereupon they told him, it was conuenient to vse adui∣sed meanes in so great an action: which was, that if Bro∣hars would accuse the ladie of such detestable ilnes and ap∣proue it against some knight in equall combate, that then the lady should haue respite to finde out a champion to de∣fend her honour. By Alcheron (said Brohars) which con∣taineth the law of the holy Mahomet, I consent. And I (cried out the lady) for purenesse is my Sanctuarie. Then was Croisant appea••ed, who caused his wife to be impriso∣ned in a strong tower, giuing hir one whole yere for quest of her defender: but in all that time shée could not find anie knight, who dared incounter Brohars: for he was valiant,

fierce, and couragious, and so excellent a man at armes, that the world knew not a better, had not the shamefulnes of his treson poisned the vertue of his prowesse. When Meruine, Iacob, and thother marchants came to lodge with Minea, there wanted but thrée dayes of making the yeare accom∣plished: so that poore Minea became her owne tormentor, because her sister Basina in all that space had not found one that durst vndertake her quarrell: yet it hapned in supper time, that Iacob troubled to sée her sorrow, desired one to moue hir to come to him, thinking that meats mirth would expell mindes melancholie: and she more to satisfie him, than to please her selfe, came, and set herselfe next to Mer∣uine. Then they demanded the cause of her griefe: to whom she reported all the treason of Brohars, and how hir inno∣cent sister within the spare of thrée dayes should be burned, if some diuine power vouchsafed her not a knight to defend her. And when Minea had reported this, she sighed with such extreame ardencie, that all the company were moued with an extraordinarie pitie.

CHAP. VII.

1 Meruine promiseth Minea to fight the combate for her sister. 2 of his great dangers in Brandis. 3 how he behaued himselfe. 4 how Minea deliuered him from death or imprisonment.

When Meruin the renowned issue of Oger had heard the Ladies discourse, who had in féel∣ing termes deliuerd the danger wherein her sister stood, Ho••our that in his first creation

was married to his soule, could no longer he held within the limits of Obliuion, but as twere chidden by vertue for his former silence, brake from his hony-breathing tongue, and swore to the Lady by Mahomet wh••m he adored, he would be the defender of her sister, and make treason in the death of Brohars more than most vgly: and then rowsing him∣selfe like a princely lion at the Suns approaching, he e••••lted his voice that all the company might vnderstand him: Lady (said Meruine) for Mahomets loue, who is our countries protectour, cléere thy heauenly eyes, that they may no more distaine thy diuine countenance, for thou hast found out a champion which delighteth to subdue treason, and will be prowd to publish to the world thy sisters not offending: the feare of his fame, which in others ingendreth feare with cowardise, on me begetteth an inuincible courage, so that I will either cleare hir reputation, or end the kalends of my life in enterprising her deliuery. When Minea heard him, she imbraced him in hir armes, and said, diuine blossome of some excellent stocke, thou from whom youth hath onely a glorious title, since first I beheld thée, I did adiudge thée of an incomparable courage: blessed be therefore that blessed one which begot thée, and blessed be the wombe which bore thée, go on faire youth, Iustice shalbe thy warrant and In∣nocency thy protector. When Tirus considered the promise of Meruine, he grew sad and said: Alas faire brother, what wil you enterprise? what, wil you take in hand nothing but your owne ouerthrow, and the losse of our fathers busines which against the houre cannot by you be performed? Bro∣ther (said Meruine) doubt not but our fathers busines shall be effected, and by Mahomet (which astonisheth the world with thunder) I will not for all the wealth in Montment, I wil not forbeare to succor a distressed Lady, the rather for the loue of th••s Lady to whom we are all be••••lden. At this they al beholding in him a constancie, halfe angry to be con∣tradicted,

left off further arguing till the next morning. Mi∣nea, throughs excéeding ioy that she had found a champion for her sister, would not suffer her eies to close with sléepe all that night, but rising early in the morning, gathered toge∣ther 200 Turkes to conduct Mernin to Montesteur: who soone by day had awaked Iacob, & the rest, saying, my deare friends and consorts, be not wearisome to your selues in at∣tending my back-returne, neither be displeased with what I vndertake, but frolike and triumph: for why I will discharge the charges of you all: if by▪ my want you be a little hinderd, let pacience mittigate your anger, and whatsoeuer I gaine, I will willingly giue amongst you. With that came Minea into the chamber to bid them good morrow, to whom Mer∣uine said, Lady, prouide me of good armes, and an excellent horse, and let want of coin be no decay to my fortune, hold, there is store, disburse & ••pare not. When Tirus perceiued him, his colour changed, & he grew pale saying, what meane you brother, so vnnecessarily to spend & imploy our fathers money which he hath giuen vs to pay to the marchant, to whom he oweth it. Brother (said Meruine) regard not siluer and gold more then earth, the loue wherof maketh the minds of men worse then the worst of earthinesse: better loue I to be well armed and brauely monnted, then here and there to consume vertue by exchanging marchandise. Thus spake the honorable minded Me••uine, whom from his infancie nature taught to resemble the famous Duke his father. Excellently excellent young man (said Minea) keepe thy treasure, for in mine owne coffers do I harbor such store, as shall maintaine thee an hundred knights to be thine attendants: as for armes and horse, be carelesse, they long since haue bene readily pro∣••ided: for the princely Earle of Brandis to whō my husband (whom he exceedingly loued) during his life was chamber∣laine, hath giuen me the couragious horse Morbon, on him shalt thou mount, a seat worthy the worthiest knight the

world containeth: Then would Iacob, Tyrus and the other marchants needs mount on horsebacke to conduct Meruine on his way: but he desiring a little respit, said, before I de∣part I will approue my armes, my horse, & my body against someother knight, because on my life relies not my selfe but anothers fortune. Friend (said a Pagan that had followed those which had brought his horse and armour) arme your selfe, for I will arme my selfe and charge you: yo•• honour me (said he) & then Meruine buckled his gorget, cast on his curats lockt his pouldrons, put on his caske, and armed him selfe at all points, then demanded he a sword, which was de∣liuered him▪ but he refused it for being much too light: wher∣upon Minea went into her chamber, f••ō which she brought a sword, bigge, strong, and massie: this sword sometimes had bene the sword of King Brandifer a Pagan, whom the renoumed knight Valentine, Nephew to king Pepin slew before Angoria, Minea presented this sword to Meruine, who drew it, and beholding the beautious brightnesse said. O excellent engine, worthy an inuincible spirit, adde to me as much fortune as I will lend thee force, and both of vs will in the tongues of men be immortall. Now false traytor Bro∣hars, be as wise in defending thy selfe, as thou art wilful in offending others, else shall thy life wast with thy slander: for Meruine is armed as himselfe desireth. At that, without the aide of his stirrope he mounted on the backe of Morbon, and demaunded a launce, which so soone as he had receiued, he put him with a princely maiestie forward, passing a swift, strong, and round ca••iere, with such dexter••tie and nimble∣nesse as bred wonder, and commendation in al the beholders, chiefely in the Earle of Brandis, that beholding him from his pallace, said to his Barons, behold a noble and victori∣o••s warriour, worthie to be adorned with a kings diad••me, his hand is an ornament for a lance, and his p••rson a re∣ceptacle for all vertues: with that came the Pagan, who

went to arme himselfe, and cried to Meruine, friend, will you ••eaue those measures and proportioned iumps which your horse in his comming séems proud of, and try the good∣nes of your arme by a sturdy incounter? It is my desir•• and nothing else replied Meruine, so they retired backe the one from the other, to take their course with more violence. The Story saieth this incounter was on a goodly gréene plaine before the Earles pallace, who as before I said, stood to be∣hold them, with him his wife, and a gallant young Prince his sonne and heire apparant. When Meruine and the o∣ther were seuerd more than the length of a good cariere, they put spurres to their coursers, and cowching their launces, ranne with such terrour, that the ground trembled at the chidings of their horses hoofes: and when they ioyned in the shocke, the Pagan shiuered his launce close to his gant∣let, yet no more stirred the princely Meruine then the gen∣telest breath of aire, the strongest pyramide in Egipt. But Meruines incounter bore death in his launces point, for he stroke his staffe more than a foot and a halfe thorow the Pa∣gans body, and pursued it with such vigor, that he bore him headlong downe dead vnto the ground: then stopping his horse triumphantly, he said in himselfe: euen as he thus is ouerthrowne, ouerthrew I all the knights which ranne for the golden cup which Clarissaes imagined valour enioy∣eth. What reason now can deny me knighthood? None but will, and that will is vniust. Marchandise farewell, henceforth will I traffike nothing but honour.

2 Thus said young Meruine, growne prowd of this late ouerthrow: but when the Pagans, and the friends of the Pagan which was slaine, saw him pay Natures last debt vnto neuer satisfied death, they all at once with one mad furie assailed Meruine, which though it nothing ap∣palled, yet at last it bred amaze in his senses (till then vnac∣quainted

with tumultuous outrage:) but when his vertue was awaked, he saide: Sith I am assaulted, the defence I make, offorce must be lawfull: and when he dr••w his sword, with which hée gaue such a blowe to the brother of the slaine Pagan, that he claus his skull to his téeth. God of our fore∣fathers, great Mahomet (said Meruine) beholde an excel∣lent sword, if I can but maintaine strength to his edge, the world shall cronicle me for a famous marchant. But the ex∣tremitie of the assault put Meruine from further spéech, for the whole company assailed him: but being as wise as hee was valiant, he defended himselfe with vnspeakable ver••ue, and that in such sort, that hée slewe more then a third part of them. Yet his foes Hydra-like increasing, by killing, had mightily indangered him, if the other marchaunts and the two hundred Pagans which Minea had assembled to con∣duct him to Montesteur, beholding his instant perill, had not taken an othe to die in his su••••or. But the Count Bran∣dis, knowing this might arise to some grieuous accident, des∣cend••d from his pallace with fiue hundred horsemen, and comming to the place where the fight was, cried out to Mer∣uine and the rest: By Mahomet my god, he that su••ceaseth not, but st••iketh another blowe, shall die the death. At these wordes they all retired, but Meruine in the instant of the spéech layed ••ixe dead at his foot.

3 Wherefore the Counte tooke a solemne vow, he should dearely make vaunt of that dayes chiualrie. But Minea ranne and caught Meruine by the arme, crying, alas deare sonne, this enuious day in blood hath drowned all the hope of our good fortune: forbeare, forbeare, for Gods sake doe forbeare, for either must weé flie or die for our misd••ing. Then went Minea towardes the Counte, and falling on her knées before him, sayd: For Mahomets sake, for Me∣cas honour, and thine owne reputation (most excellent

Prince) take pittie vpon me, and my poore innocent sister, who through treason shall faultlesse consume in fire, if with∣in this three daies she be not deliuered by this happy nowe made vnhappie young man. When the Earle saw the con∣stancie of her teares which issued from the true fountaine of griefe, he accorded to her desire, with this condition, that wheresoeuer Meruine should goe, he should yet be his pri∣soner▪ and that she should deliuer him sufficient hostage for his returne: whereupon Minea deliuered to the Earle all the euidences, bondes and titles whatsoeuer belonged to her or her inheritance: all which he detained till her backe returne to Brandis, And thus was Meruins peace agreed, who mightily grieued that he should be troubled or fought with, for but onely making proofe of his bodie.

CHAP. VIII.

1. How Minea, Meruine, Iacob, Tyrus, and the other Marchants with the two hundred Pagans departed from Brandis, to deliuer Basina at Montesteur: 2 and of the batell fought betwee••e Meruine and Brohars, and the enent.

WHen Minea had appeased the tumult, shee departed from Brandis, and with her Meruine and the other marchants, with them the band of two hundred Pagans: and the second day after, they arriued at Montesteur, where

they found Croisant madde-manlike tormented with griefe in his soule, for the supposed monstrous indignitie which the treason of Brohars had rooted in his head against his con∣stant and loyall wife Basina. When Minea saw him, shee went to meet him: and he encountering her first, gaue her this salutation. Faire sister Minea (quoth hee) thy sister hath falsely betrayed the honour of my bedde and giuen an immortale scandall to my name: the deed is euident and ap∣parantly true▪ the rather in this that none can finde a knight, who will vndertake battaile against Brohars, to defend the iustne••se of her cause. Wherefore, if I liue till to morrow, and beholde the Sunne blesse the earth with his counte∣nance, I will see her burned, according to the execution of our law Brother Croisant (replied she) fortune, I hope, hath alo••ted her starres of much better influence: and for her innocencie I haue brought one, who shall defend it a∣gainst Brohars and his treason•• whome I hope to see at his hanging as publike aconuertite, as ••e is now a monstrous false accuser. At these wordes Meruine, whose counte∣nance did both apprehend, and discharge a princely king of maiestie, stood foorth, and sayd vnto Croisant: By the faith I owe vnto Mahomet, and mine homage to distressed la∣dies, I will voluntarily, and with an assurance of vndoubted guiltinesse, enter battaile against that false traitour, who vn∣der my sword shall either publikely 〈◊〉〈◊〉 his villanie, or die for priuate concealing so worthie to be knowen an indig∣nitie. S••arse had hee finished these wordes, but Brohars came thronging into the presse, exclaiming against all men, that none d••rst incounter him: and withall sayde: Brother Croisant, euen the world, and babes nor yet borne into the world, will condemne thee for a wittolde, and a wilfull ••uckold, sith thus long thou de••errest the burning of that o∣dious strumpet thy wife, whose implacable sinne n••ne dare to make seeme vnfaultie. When Meruine heard Bro∣hars,

he scratcht his head, and with a grizlie looke, wherein vertue shewed her selfe more then impatient, he sayd: False bastard, son of a most detestable whore: whose hatefull spee∣ches augment the abomination of thy treason: by Mahomet, this day I will sée thee hanged, for thy wrongfull accuse, and vniust slaunder of the vertuous Basina. Brohars more then wounded with Meruines fierie pointed speeches, grew madde with wrath: and drawing his sword, st••••cke at Mer∣uine. But vertue euer awake to defend honour, taught him how to ward the blowe, and with his fist well armed with a gauntlet, he returned Brohars such a buffet, that he made the ••lood gush from his eares and nostrels, saying: Trai∣tour, beholde the champion for the iust ladie Ba••ina, who this day will make thy heart as sadde, as thy thoughts are false, and neither by any to be matched. When Croisant saw the incomparable valour of Meruine, grew enamou∣red of his vertue, and sayd in himselfe: Beleeue me, my soule, mine eyes haue not seene a frame of youth so faire, so bigge, and in all parts so excellently accomplisht with all perfections: by Mahomet, had nature but adorned his chin with dowlne, I should haue taken him to be (so much he re∣sembled him) Oger, the renowmed Christian, who ••lew Iu∣stament before Arius. After these cogitations Croisant came betweene Mer••ine & Brohars, desiring forbearance of their furie till the next morrow, & sayd: Lords, let prowesse slumber, till this next dayes Sunne awaken you to combat, and then Mahomet giue honour to him that hath the right. They both a••torded, and then Croisant demanded pledge of both sides for their appearance. And Minea pledged herselfe ••or Meruine, but Brohars could finde neither baron, knight, nor squire, who would be hostage for his faith. Wherefore Croisant caused him to be imprisoned for that night in a strong tower, whither was deliuered all things necessary for him or his happelesse vndertaken action. Minea with all

her traine went and lodged in a castle heard by, & tooke Mer∣uine, Iacob, Tyrus and the other marchants with her, who though they spake not much▪ yet did their heauie countenan∣ces tel long tales of their tedious sorows. But Meruine com∣forted them▪ saying, Fear•• not my deare companions, neither let your watry eies any longer woe an euil fortune: for by my faith (my souls debt to Mahomet if you wil pursue my steps, you shall no more be marchants, but knights of regard & ho∣nour, & then wil we tread ouer the face of the earth, and by re∣doubted fight ennoble and extoll our lawe through all nati∣ons. But one, whose name was Brahā, compact of the coldest constitution a cowards heart could be engendred of, replyed: Sir Meruine, for mine owne part, I loue no honour with di∣sturbance, nor fame with a bloody forhead: let them fight that are angrie, for my patience is eternall except it be against this pleasant cuppe of wine, and that conflict may boade my ouer∣throw, but no wounds. At these words they al began to laugh but Minea whose head at that instant was a Parliament for grauer matters, went vnto Croysant, & with a graue discon∣tentmēt in which was figured a modest suffrance, she desired leaue for her sister Ba••ina to come and suppe with them, that the burden of her grieues, though they were not vnladed, yet they might by that recreation be a little eased. He willingly a∣greed, &, so sent the iayler to fetch her, who instantly did as he was commaunded. But when he came where the forsaken la∣dy was set, & had vnlocked the two vnkind imbracing yrons that fettered her, he told her of Meruine, & how her sister Mi∣nea had brought him to fight against Brohars in defēce of her honour. Alas (said she) how vnfortunate is y^e vnfortunatenes of my malitious fortune, and how endlesse the spring of my teares•• Before I wept, because I wanted a champion: now must I weepe, that hauing a champion, I fear I want forti∣tude: for Brohars is inuincible, and who then can conquer the neuer to be conquered? Here she sighed as if she had neuer be∣fore

sig•••••• while the ••ailer 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Lady, imbrace comfort▪ & be st••ong with an innocent hope▪ for this day hath Mern. giuē Brohars such an vnresistab••e blow, as the blood sprang out of his veines, and ranne through his ears and nosthrils, A notable prologu•• to a wished trag••dy. The poore lady hear∣ing this she gaue hope (which before was banished) leaue once againe to possesse her, and so rose & went with her kee∣per till she entered into the Castle hall: but when Minea saw her first appearance, she ranne to imbrace her, and she (albeit not with so much fury, for sorrow had weakened hir indeuours) did the like. And beiug both lockt in each others infoldings, Basina asked hir sister which was the champion whose vnspeakable vertue had vowed once againe to make her happy. Faire sister, qd she, looke ouer all this assembly, and he is thy new creator who is most high, strongest, and most excellently furnished in all his lineaments, and yet so yong that he hath not attained to fiftéene yeres. And as she was thus speaking, Meruine rose from the place where he sa••e, ••o go comfort Iacob, whose looks were sad and discom∣fort••ble▪ and Basina séeing him rise, knew by his proporti∣on, he onely of that company was likeliest to redéeme her; wherefore she ranne vnto him, and falling on her knées she imbraced his legs, making offer to kisse his feet. Meruine repulsed so much too diuine homage, and demanded of her what she was. Excellent creature (said she) I am the woful subiect of vnspeakable misery, euen that vnhappy Basina, in protection of whose innocencie, as I vnderstand, you are come to make hazard of your celestiall honour: and as it is pure, so be the puritie of my redemption wonderfull in the eies of the beholders: for by him that gaue my soule motion, there was neuer mouing of vnchaste thought within mee. What is auerred against me, the traitor falsly suggesteth, because I truely with stood his lasciuious affection, which he hath not left for the space of a yeare hourely to solicite, mine

honor guarding what dishonour would violate, but rather shall a thousand slames dissolue me into cinders, then breach of my wedlock faith congeale frosty damnation within me. Now the base slaue, slaue to his 〈◊〉〈◊〉 appetite, came to be lodged by me, neither know I, nor can imagine. A••d more to make my ignorance perpetuall, he slue him, that by him might nothing be discouered: blameles are my thoughts, al∣beit 〈◊〉〈◊〉 fortune faulty. If giltlesnes be any defence be then assured thou art inuincibly armed. When Meruine heard her words graced with a gracefull delight of modest speak∣ing, he recomforted her, promising to die or behold her deli∣uerance. By this supper was serued vp, and they set down, but yet Iacob, Tirus, and the other marchants whispering one against another, mightily repined at the ••orwardnes of Meruine: for why, their harts were created in a cold clime, where the true sunshine of honor neuer shined. By Maho∣met, said Iacob, if we pursue the humors of Meruine, we but run po••te after our deaths: for say he win the honour of the field and release the Lady, yet if he escap•• with life and returne to Brandis, there shal he be imprisoned, and for his late ••utrage aduenture as great a hazard. So that as his de∣sires are boundles, so shal his quarrels be endles, and we for being his consorts be disgraced: he is much too couragious to win wealth by tra••fike, and too mad to be praised vnder the title of a marchant. Thus they grinded their tongues against their téeth, with repinings against Meruin, who all the while ate and drank without respect or héed taking. Af∣ter supper they went to rest till the flight of birds gaue as∣surance of the sunnes presence, and told them it was mor∣ning▪ then arose Croisant, causing the lists to be prepared, and 200. horsemen to gard it, in the midst whereof a stake was set vp, at which his wife should be burned, if Meruine failed in the conflict. Then arose Meruine, and armed him selfe with all the royall accomplements his soule desired,

and being at al pieces furnisht, he caused Morbon to be sad∣led, and couerd al ouer with a costly barb, on whom he leapt: and though Morbon for strength among horses was onely excelling yet his chine bended with the weight of the yong∣ling. Then demaunded Meruine his helmet, which Croi∣sant deliuerd him, and withall a mighty launce, strong, and till then vntaught to skirmish. Meruine thus sate like a se∣cond Mars, or an excelling Perseus, he made a solemne and religious vow to Mahomet, euer after that to be so, and in such maner, and neuer more to vse or inherite the trade or name of a Marchant: for (qd he) that trade abaseth an hono∣rable disposition, and brings slander to the sword and lance which euer should be adored. Now was Brohars (who be∣fore ye heard to be imprisoned) infranchised and set at liber∣ty, immediatly causing his attendants to arme him, whilst his thoghts expostulated with feare, his soule holding argu∣ment with doubtfulnes, yet was he an vnmatchable knight for valure; onely treason the impoisoner of vertue hauing got habitation, began to staine resolution. Yet the story saith that this Brohars was brother to Geffray, whom Karahew slue in the battel before the wals of Babilon, as is written in the history of Oger the father of Meruiue. But in no pa∣gan court durst Karahew euer after meet with Brohars, as well for feare of his fortitude, as for a generall hate concei∣ued agenst him, for offring to haue forced Rabions wife the son of Antifer. But that which giues Brohars the greatest title of dignity, and maketh all men feare to incounter him in combat, is for that he hath fought xiiij-fields, all with the sword, and preuaild, which euer after made him so fierce and proud of his fortune, that he held himselfe altogether inuin∣cible, as if by a parliament of the gods, he alone were deifi∣ed. Now was brought to him to mount vpon, a mare of his owne, which was damme to the good stéed Marcheuall, which Oger lost vpon the sea: her colour was not black, but

blackish 〈◊〉〈◊〉, he got her of Baucamont king of Damas and she was 〈◊〉〈◊〉 and made ready for the warres to go assaile Mermont in his city of Mon••ment, thence to win the faire princely virgin Berea, whom Mermont had denied in ma∣riage. This mare which was brought Brohars, was called Mordant, fiery and couragious: one qualitie of crueltie she had, which was, that no horse, how strong or violent soe••er, but she would instantly strangle, if there we••e not a more than v••uall regard had to hir manner of fighting. Brohars won her in an honorable combat and being mounted there∣on, he took his target and hanged it before his breast, fas••ned a battle ax to his saddle po••ell, & griped in his strong arme a mighty lance: thus accoutred, he paced tow••rds the field, where Meruin attended his comming. Croisant stil inuiro∣ned with ielousie and reuenge, had now fas••ned Basina to the stake, her executioners garding her, with fire ready so as∣saile the wood so soone as Meruine should be ouerthrowne. By this time was Brohars entred into the lists, on whom when Meruine had fixed his eies, and saw the portly maie∣sty of the princely beast that ••ore him (I meane Mordant that gallant mare) he fell mightily in loue with her, and tooke a vow in his owne soule, neuer againe to estéeme him selfe, if that dayes conquest made him not true possessor of so highly to be estéemed treasure. Now the time sommon∣ing an end to these great deuoires, a herald entred the lists, & after a solemne warning giuen by the sound of trumpets, he pronounced this charge: Lords and Knights belonging to the noble lord Croisant, I straitly charge and command you vpon paine of death, not to speak any word til the com∣bat be fully ended: and further, vpon the foresaid paine, I charge, that none, of what estate or conditiō soeuer, do either assist, resist, impugne or deliuer either by signe or actiō, any of the comba••ants, but r••••er the triall of their truths, to for∣tune, valure, and their swords. At these words the whole as∣semblie

of infinites silent, and then the Herauld departed. Then en••ered Croisant to the Champions, and first spake in this manner to Brohars: by all the allegeance thou owest to thy earths soueraigne, by thy faith to Mahomet, thy hope of cōquest▪ & thy spirits redemption, I charge thée ••elme whether all thine assext••on and accusation auowed against this lady Basina my wife▪ be tr••e, I or no. Noble Croisant (answered Brohars) all is true by Iupiter I sweare, and this day shalt thou see that trueth glorious by my conquest. Mer∣uine hearing him so obstinat, desired Croisant to desist frō further speach: for (said he) it is more then time the t••aitour had made his new re••antation. Knights sayd Croisant) be∣gin at your pleasures, and this day let trueth preuaile.

2 So departed he the lists, and the two combatants put∣ting downe their beauers departed either from other a good distance, to adde more violences to their courses: and Basina with a more then speaking heart (for feare had bound her lips to silence) cried vpon Mahomet to guard her champion, and confound the false confounder of her honour. Now were they farre enough asunder, when turning their 〈◊〉〈◊〉 and cou∣ching their launces, they ranne against ••ch other with such swiftnesse, that they ouerran the windes, which ouerrun all other mouing creatures: but in the sho••k, when their launces felt honors seales vpō their curats, Meruin stroke Brohars so hard (worthy a better name then that by which force is in∣tituled) that he tumbled him from the back of his good mare to the ground: & on the other part he likewise assailed Mer∣uine so couragiously, that both horse & man equally kist the earth together: but Meruine being quicke & nimble (and ne∣uer more quicke then in the quicknesse of extremity) quickly gate vp vnamazed. But Brohars astonished w^t falling from a beast so hie and loftie, arose (th••ugh not so well) yet as wel as he co••ld, and drawing his ••word came to assault Meruin,

who cried vn••o him, Traitor, this deede this day shall make thee acte a sory tragedie. Brohars enuiously angry at these words of Meruin strake at him with almost a more then di∣uine courage: but he perceiuing the blowe, retired a little, and tooke it vpon his target: yet it came from so violent an arme, that it claue it downe to the ground, cu••ting withal the spur from his right foot▪ and the sword vnsati••fied entred into the ground more then afoote and a halfe, whose greedines to con∣quere, hindred his conquering: for hee could not recouer it a∣gaine but with much paines taking. Meruine dying to die in debt of so good paiment, lift vp his sword and strooke the tray∣tour on the••helmet, from whence the sword sliding, descended on his thigh, and there cut away a collop sufficient inough to gorge a faulcon two dayes together and better. Now was mere then time for Brohars to change his footing, for the weight of this blowe gaue his hinder legge preheminence to be better and stronger, to his intollerable griefe & furie, ma∣king him raile on Maho. for suffring him thus of a boy to be mated. Meruine in whō valor held her residence, & of whom vertue was onely inamoured, bearing sword point blancke with the Pagans eye, ranne furiously against him, and in his course said: Brohars, the execreable treasons that damnedly thou hast suggested, shall end thy life before the day shall end his light, else shall my reputation die in his infancie, & truth hereafter neuer be accounted the Innocents protectresse: and with that he strooke a blowe (which y^e Pagan receiued on his target) with such violence, that it entering in an vnimagined way, Meruin by no means could pluck it out againe, though with sundrie twiches he gaue, hee almost pulled it from the Pagans necke. Brohars not vnexperienced in any aduantage occasion could offer▪ in the extreamest of those conflicts, wat∣ching (with a greedy deliuerance of mischiefe in his head) and when he perceiued Meruine pull with all his sw••y he let the target ••lip out of his hand, so that Meruine with his owne

force fell backward to the ground, on whom immediately the Traitor lea••ed, thinking then to finish the end of all his wi∣shes. All the Barons that beheld this infortunate misaduen∣ture, murmured amongst themselues and saide, What pitie is this, that fortune, not 〈◊〉〈◊〉 should be the ouerth••ow of vertue, & that this youth vnconquered should not be conque∣rour: Minea whose heart daunced liuely on the sword of Meruine, when she saw this stoure boding euill▪ grew madde with grie••e, that griefes power held her from beeing madde and whispered to her selfe. Ha Mahomet, thou which art ado∣red in our pā••heous, if thou thus giuest our virtue, and lea∣uest this excelling creature to be slaine by a miscreant, for euer will I ab••ure thy deitie, rase thy Temples, and ere the sunne go downe, be baptized a Christian. Whilest thus her waue∣••ing thoughts amongest themselues helde a ciuill dissention, poore Basina her torments excéeded the boundes of tormen∣tings being runne a degrée beyond the coast of illnes: so that what others in their priuate selues lamented, shée with loud shrikes, cries, & clam••rs publikely noted insomuch that y^e ec∣cho of her lamentations pearcing into the eares of Meruine as he lay, conducted an honourable shame with theirs to his heart, so that gathering a better strength then that which is strength, named, by vigour of his spiri••e▪ hée turned Brohars topsie turu••e vnder him. By this time Meruines horse, who through the cruelty of his fall, could no sooner get vp, arose, which Mordant the ma••e perceiuing, came and assailed him: so that betwéene the beastes beganne a cruell and fierce bat∣tell, but in the end Mordant strangled the good Morbon, to the small delight of Meruine, who at that instant was bu••••ed from intending any remedy, so long did Meruin remaine vp∣on the traytor, that the whole company were in admiration at his indurance. But when he perceiued all meanes of release banished, and that no power hée had, had power to ouerturne Meruine he said vnto him, Meruine this arest of burdē is an

vnwounding ••omb••t, by whose meanes we can neither win honour, nor bring our battell to a desired ending. I will offer thee therefore what in honourable censures shalbe honestly valiant, arise from this vaine suppressing seruitude, vnburden me and goe fetch thy sword and I will goe to my mare and fetch my ba••tell axe which hangeth at my sadle, & with them let vs e••••her finish our liues, or amend our fortunes. Meruiue in whom the ragefull fire of youth kindled a diuine valiance, presently 〈◊〉〈◊〉 & arose from Brohars, who found in him∣selfe a paine full weakenesse to get vp, through the great losse of blood which issuing from his wound, had already cald the earth where he lay in a scarlet mantel••, as if he already had made it Iudge of his life or destruction. Now had eche of them taken their weapons according to their agréement; but Brohars as if his heart wholy dwelt on the edge of his wea∣pon, hauing the axe in his hand 〈◊〉〈◊〉 it into the aire, & cried to Meruine. This day (boy) shalbe thy liues last day, vnlesse thou sweare and maintaine that all the articles are true which I haue imposed against Basina the wife of Croisant. which if thou doest, wée will no more be foes but companions, and like men in••in••ible measure the earth, and conquer great Charles of France, who onely p••rsecuteth ou•• law and religion. Guilt tongued traitor (said Meruine little should I please Maho∣met to be treacherously minded, lesse to be the companion of ••o base a miscreant▪ wherefore I estéeme both odious. After this spéech they assaild••••h other on euery side, where there aduan∣tages lay most aparent and that in such vehement sort and so tediously, that they both became so exceeding weary as they were faine for a time to repose themselues. After they had a while rested themselues, Meruin•• called to Brohars and said, Traitour, this rest is the last Sabboth of thy life: for thou hast wrongfully accused yonder innocent La••y: and theref••re ere the euenings eie shut in the day thou shalt dy most miserably•• Sorrow at this reproofe so stopt vp the speaches of Brohars,

that he only gnashd his téeth, and mounting his kéen edged axe, he strucke such a blow, and with so great might on the helmet of Meruin, that if the greatest of diuine powers had not preserued him, and that the ••emper and the liuing were both more than extraordinary, that day had ••in the last of his life and fortunes. Notwithstanding al the fauors of his staues, so strong a poise issued from the blowes falling, that Meruine was forced to fall vpon his knée, yet was he soon remounted: and as wise in danger as valiant in his fight, raising his good sword, strake the traitour with such puis∣sance on his helmet, that if Brohars had not turned backe he had clouen him to the shoulder, the sword in his stumb∣ling fell on the thigh of the Pagan, so as he quite disseuered it from his body, and with that threw the traitor vnto the ground, who with the grief of the blow cried, that the eccho of his clamors were heard afar off. At this Basinas heart daunced in her body for ioy, so did Mineas, in whom was an equall sympathie: and all the barons that held either of the Ladies in regard triumphed saying amoug themselues, no eie hath seen fortitude accompanied with such true fierce∣nesse in any knight, as in this young youth vnconqu••rable Meruin. Such spéech spake euery one of him. But the trai∣tor Brohars, who had then lost a leg, took his axe into both his hands saying, Boy, braggard, and worse than a boyish braggard, stand but before me, and thou shalt sée this losse the gaine of my better courage: for I shall neuer aspire my end or orethrow, til I haue cut thée péece-meale into a thou∣sand pieces. Meruine smiling at this v••nt▪ stooped to take him by the other foot, thinking to tra••le him into the midst of the field▪ but improuidence guided his action, for the trai∣tour clasping him about his helmet, drew him to him with such maine strength, as he fellouer and ouer. Great God of heauen haue mercy vpon him, for if thy pitty be not his sauiour, death must be his redéemer.) Brohars was mighty

and strong, and so was Meruine, insomuch, that betwéene them was ••hewed al the triumph and perfection of strength and agilitie. But in the end, Brohars, through the riuer∣like effusion of his blood, was so excéedingly weakned▪ that in a happy time, and in despite of Fortunes worst, Meruin arose, taking from him his battle axe: then houering ouer him like an vngorged eagle, he said, Traitor, now behold the last date of thine affliction, confesse therfore the treason thou hast done against the good lady Basina, or by Mahomet thy own weapon immediatly shall di••orce thine accu••sed head from thy shoulders. But he whom villan••e had taught no∣thing but villainous replies, answerd: Thou son of a diffa∣med ••urtesan, coward, recreant, I was neuer traitor, nor did treason euer lodge in my affinity. As he was about to say more, Meruine impa••••ent to sée such audacious impie••ie, with the axe gaue him such a blow on thother thigh, tha•• he cut it quite from his body leauing him as leglesse as he was gracelesse▪ the paine whereof, together with the laboring of his lifes departure, made him bel••ow out such lamentatiōs, that all the mountains, and plaines were priuy to his mise∣rable fortunes. Then called he to Meruine and said, Eu••n now I find my soule contending for her deliuery: wherfore if thou hast as much pitty in thy heart, as force in thy hand, defer••e alittle my iudgement, and call Croisant and Basina to behold my departure. Meruine forthwith called them, who willingly came thither. And being come, Meruine said Brohars, behold, Croisant and the Lady are present, say what thou hast to say vnto them. Ah Croisant, Croisant, saide he, euen for Mahomets sake that pardons all, pardon me, and haue mercy on my miserie, thy wife the vertuous Basina is most loyall, most true, and most vndefiled not a∣ny betwéene the Poles more honorable. Tis true, tis true, I haue importuned her long, more than a yeare, but ne∣uer could obtaine it Tis tr••e, tis true, I only for that haue

hated her. Tis true that this 〈◊〉〈◊〉 was mine owne in∣uention: I brought Brison to h••••bed, I suggested her di∣sloyaltie, and I alone deseru•• this miserable infortune. Then he called the lady to him, and said, Diuine Basina, and excellent Lady, for ••oues sake, who created all things, create me anew with thy pardon, and from the white veile of thine innocency, let my misdeed find a shadowing forgiue∣nes: for I confesse with a ••••••ting soule my monstrous im∣parted treasons against t••ee, and will maintaine (whilest vanishing breath maintains power to maintaine any thing) my selfe the most falsest tra••tor that euer was recorded a∣mongest the Pagans. Neuer spakest thou more true than now, answered Meruine, therefore shalt thou indure the Law, and I onely will be thine executioner, and with that lifting vp the axe, he strucke the Pagan betwéene the hel∣met and the coller with such forcible vigor, that he compel∣led his head to flie from his shoulders. So died the traitour by the hands of Meruine the sonn•• of Oger, in whom the excellencie of prowesse was onely excellent.

CHAP. IX.

1 Of the honours done to Meruine for his victorie. 2 How Minea brought him backe againe to Brand••s. 3 His imprisonment, and other aduentures.

AFter the death of Brohars, (whose death was as a festiual to the beholders, chiefly to Minea and Basina, who comming to Meruine, did him great adoration and worship) Croisant caused the body of the traitor to be drawne to a paire of gallowes, where it was hanged ••or a spectacle of monstrous villanie. But Meruine, whose minde was still making loue to honor, regardlesse of other accomplishments, went to the goodly mare Mordant, and hauing caught her as his prize and honors right▪ he mounted vpon her backe, spurred her, ranne her, leapt her, and so thundred about the fields, finding in her all the rarest perfections could possibly be wisht for in such an incomparable creature, that his ioy reached beyond the bounds of extreamest pleasure & in this sort made him giue praise to Mahomet. Ah Mahomet, qd he, behold here a beast of inuincible puissance, I honor thée for the gift and by her valure will exalt thy name in forren nations: she is my harts wish▪ & I prize her mor••, then her weight of the finest gold. Thus spake Meruine, & then rode on with the pagans, who honored him as a demy-god, ••uen to the gates of Mōtesteur, where he was receiued with tri∣umphant ioy & solemnity. After he was ascended the castle,

and had disarmed himselfe, his wounds were found sleight, and of small importance, yet not withstanding there was an excellent Surgion appointed him, whose skill in thrée dayes would haue cured much greater woundings. After hee was ••ressed, & had giuen his mind a little recreation with ease hun∣ger (in that he had fasted all the day) began to seize vpon his stomack so, that he desired the Barons to make hast with his supper, assuring them he had not felt so good an appetite before in his life time. One of y^e barons told him all thinge were pre∣pared for his repaf••, & there wanted nothing but his presence. Thē sate Meruine and the other marchants down, who were serued with all pompous magnificence, nothing wanting that wit, wealth, or wish could accomplish. When they had sup∣ped, they fell to discourse of diuers oc••urrents according to the time or humor of their opinions: but Minea taking Croisant vnto her, said: Brother, this princely yōg man hath done thée great honour, and to my sister an eternall neuer to be requited fauour, euen as much as her soules redemption. True Ma∣dame (replied he) I acknowledge as much or more from his valure: wherefore if he please to imploy me, I am all onely at his seruice, and from this day do I reckon my new natiuiti••, binding my life to his dispose, and glorying in nothing more, then in that I am his subiect. Brother (sayd Minea) thy spée∣ches are woorthy of thy vertues, therefore now prepare thy people and goe with vs to Brandis, for there haue we actions of hi•• importaunce with the Earle thereof, where you must be aidant and agent, to performe vnto him the weight of our businesse. Ladie (quoth hée) as willingly is mine agréement, as your wish is redy, and I am proud of s•• happy an occasion.

2 Thus after their inter••ourse of speach, they remayned at Montesteur vntil the next morning & so from thence they rode to Brandis to the house of Minea wher she feasted them so ro••ally, as either treasure or friendship could any way pur∣chase:

but after they were all disarmed, and had pleasantly re∣created themselues one with anothers excellencies, on the sudden they heard one knocking at the gate: wherupon Mi∣nea commaunded the Porter to goe see who knocked, and to giue them enterance. A way went the Porter, and demanding the occasion of the noyse, they bade him open the gates, which he had no sooner done, but there rushed in 14. knights, all well armed, of whom the nephew of Brandis named Merquier was one, & thence ascending into the hall, they beheld where Meruine was playing at the cardes with Croisant, on whō instantly they sei••ed whilst he by force thinking to purchase his deliuerie, found that force by their preuention surprised. When Minea beheld this more then cruell occurrent, she cried to Merquier, and sayd, yoong lord, for Mahomets sake, and the loue of vertue, forbeare and suffer this excellent crea∣ture till to morrow, at what time, by thallegeance my soule oweth to heauen, I will deliuer him to the Counte thy renowmed vnkle. Lady (replied Merquier) pardon me, for I wil not, bicau••e if he passe this houre, it is impossible tappe••se the kinred of them whom he hath slaine. Sixe hath he sent to communicate with the dead, therefore he may not liue••vn∣lesse hee can, as none can, find any means to recoue•• the dead. To make a short tale of a tedious astonishment, this answer brought the lady to her wits end Sorrow desisting to coun∣sell her in her disputation, and notwithstanding all the force Meruine applied for his owne deliuerie, he was taken by them, bound carried to a strōg castle, fet••redin an iron chaine, and safely imprisoned, all as vnpleasant to him, as vnpit∣tied of his enemies, both without bound.

3 Being thus all alone, hauing no companions but anger, & his harmes grieued, began thus to ch••••e himselfe against reason, improuident man (said he) how much better had it bin had I trusted Tirus my brother, then mine own thoughts: for

then refusing the battel▪ I had diuorced my selfe from this mischance, which too vnluckily laies hold on me: but he that impugns vertuous counsel with wilfulnes, shall be beaten with repentāce, and haue no pity but his own tears. Thus spake imprisoned Meruine, while Tirus, Iacob and thother merchants, desperate to wish him any other good, than good∣nes in his death, prepared them to depart about the effecting of their foren busines. They calling Minea said: Ladie, we are sory for this disastrous misfortune which is chanced to imprisoned Meruine: yet the importance of our businesse commands our departure for the mart at Boniuant appro∣ching so neare, if we should thence be absent, would highly redound to our losses: she answered them againe: Gentle∣men depart at your best pleasures, and for all your care of Meruine, bestow it on my thoughts, which shall so busie themselues in that action, that before you•• returne I doubt not but purchase his liberty, so that he shall accompany you home to your country. To be briefe, her spéeches so much sa∣tisfied them, that the next morning they tooke their iourney towards Boniuant: in which trauel we wil for a while leaue them, and speake alittle of the great king Baucamont, who calling Pimon a noble gentleman of his Court to him gaue him letters to carry to his two nephews, that is to say, to Brandis in E••clardia, and to Antifer in Tartaria, which contained hie matter of intreaty in thē, to thend they shold aid him against the mighty king Meurmont of Montmēt, who in despite had refused to bestow on him the beautifull Berea his daughter in marriage. The seruiceable gallant soone effected the will of the king his master, and the two kings instantly v••on thintreaty, mustred so many of their men as were able to b••are armor, and came to Damascus, where they were royally entertained, and among their dis∣coursings Beaucamont discouered all the indignities con∣ceiued against Meurmont, first the deniall of his daughter,

then the disdaine of his embassade, and lastly, his threats of death to Pimon, whom he estéemed euery way worthie of so great an imployment: the very encountring whereof so im∣prisoned his thoughts with such furie, that he sware by all the hie titles a king adoreth, not to leaue him a foote of earth in the world to be ruler of, if with penance he askt not mercie for his misdoing, (they two ayding him whom hee knew and euer e∣stéemed inuincible) with others. They quickely bound their consents to his impatience, and so foorthwith caused all their nauies to be rigged and thight in most royall manner, which in short space they committed to the mercie of the mercifull ••••ood, hoysting vp their sailes, and sailing with a prosperous gale for many nights and dayes, til in the end Fortune (who euer will shew the nature of her condition▪ ••••ost them with a mighty storme, which was more then grieuously trouble∣some vnto them. And to the fauour of that same we wil leaue them for a while, and returne to poore imprisoned Meruine, whom Minea & Croysant with their neuer ceasing petitions, bribes, vowes, and protestations, had by this time deliuered: at the instant of whose inlargement, Tirus, Iacob, & thother marchants made their returne from Boniuant, and came di∣rectly to the house of Minea, who entertained thē most kind∣ly: yet told them with a seeming countenaunce of sorow, that by no meanes they could haue Meruin backe with them, be∣cause he was adiudged sixe yeeres imprisonment, and till the end thereof no releasement: and from thence forth an eternal banishment for euer from that countrey. This (said she is the agréement we haue made with the parties which pursue him and proud we are, we haue agréed vnder the price of his most precious life. Wherfore perswade reuerent Barbin his father to expell griefe for his absence assuring him, my care shall ex∣c••ede if possible, the care of a naturall mother, and my purse shalbe lauishly open to defray all the costs, charges, and hin∣derances of Mer••ine from his ar••••es and the famous Mor∣dant

his excellent beast: I will preserue them for him as trophies wonne by diuine honour. Madam, said Iacob, the musicke of your ••••ordes become well the vertues of your mind: wherefore, as reason bindeth vs, we are satisfied. To mor••ow before the sunne shall blesse the bosome of thearth, we will begin our iorney, onely with this request, that we may see and salute Meruine before our departure▪ The hea∣uens forbid, said Tyrus, Fie Iacob, thy speaches are too neare a kinne to thy old follies, for it will proue no saluta∣tion, but a prouocation to our owne deaths: sithence there∣by suspect may make vs parties to his actions. This speach of Tirus made Iacob condemne himselfe of alittle improui∣dence: so they rested with Minea for that night, and earely the next morning went aboord their ships, and sallied with so fauorable a gust, that in short space they aymed at the port of Luternia, where they anchored their vessels, and from thence marched to Montment. The Historie saieth, that this Iacob the marchant altogether frequented the court of king Meurmont, who for sundry vertues he sawe shine in his honest simplicitie, loued him exceedingly, and tooke and intimate delight in his company. Now is Iacob entred into his owne gates, where his wife with all obser∣uances of true duety, kindly entertained him, and Tyrus the house of Barbin his father, who séeing him vnaccompa∣nied of any but his owne presence, blusht, as highly ama∣zed, and asked him, Faire sonne, where is Meruine thy brother that he is vnreturned with thée, to make happy my desires. Deare father, replied Tyrus, he is taken prisoner at Brandis, which is a strong citie seated vpon the sea: Pri∣soner, said his father, tell me quickely for what cause? Sir, said he, with a fearefull trembling, Meruine whom you call my brother, is too fierce, proude, and of an ambitious aspiring spirite, me hath he altogether neglected, and bent his thoughts onely on impossible indeuours. The cause of

his imprisonment is, for that he hath slaine seuen renowned knights at one instant with his sword. And from thence Tirus discoursed to his father all the déeds of Meruine, his promise to Minea to resuccor her sister, his danger in Bran∣dis, her deliuering him by meane of hostage, his going to Monte••••eur, his combat with Brohars, his backe returne to Brandis, his deliuering Basina, his being there surprised, and lastly, his deliuery after six yeares imprisonment with perpetuall banishment, till when there was no expecting his returne. When Barbin with a grieuing ioy had heard him recount all these famous exploits of Meruiue, he askt Tyrus in all these dangers, what aid or help he had done for Meruine: and Tyrus tolde him, not any at all. Then the blood of anger started into the face of Barbin, and he said to Tyrus, False Pagan boy▪ recreant to trus nobilitie, whie didst thou faile him who would haue failed life for thy loues cause? Where was thy sleepy sword, that vnsheathing it, thou didst not hazard to die in his rescue? By Mahomet, deare father, said he, I dare not fight, my weapons are only the words of an honest marchant: let Meruine, on whom the goddesse of warre is inamoured, fight for vs both, whilst I in a peacefull climate winne honor by my traffike. Thus disputed Tyrus with his father, to whom Chiualry was nothing beholding: but Barbin most sadly sorrowfull for the troubles of Meruine, flung away with great furie, making a solemne vow to Mahomet, either spéedily to purchase his deliuery, or in the pursuiteto spend his life and treasure.

CHAP, X.

1 Iacobs report to king Meurmont of the acts of Mer∣uine. 2 Bereaes ioy. 3 The priuate confe••ence be∣tweene Berea and Iacob.

AFter Iacob was returned home, and had by a little rest giuen ease to his sore tra∣uelled limbs, he demanded of his wife, if not any from the court had made inqui∣rie of his returne: and h••s wife told him yes, a squire, whom as she imagined, be∣longed to the beautifull princesse Berea: therfore she persuaded him as a thing not vnnecessary, forth∣with to goe thither & to take with him from her to th•• prin∣cesse a most curiously wrought purse which of selfe purpose she had made for her. Smal persuasion preuailed. So Iacob tooke the purse and went to the Court, where being entred within the hall, he found the mighty king Meurmont, who was glad to sée him, most gratiously demaunding of his welfare: to whom Iacob with humble reuerence answerd as became a loial subiect. By Mahomet (qd the king) I fea∣red greatly left Baucamont the proud king of Damas had met with thée, who is now comming to besiege me with so innumerable an host of men as to our séeming they double the stars of heauen. Credite me (redoubted soueraigne said Iacob) if it pleased Mahomet, or your gratious starres were so fortunate, that you had but to aide you xxx. such knights

euery way as excellent as Meruine the sonne of Barbin the marchant, not Baucamonts power, nor the worlds infinits were able to wrong you by sword or violence: for why, Mer∣uine is euen Uictory itselfe, as fortunate as couragious, and both admirable, that Wonder it selfe alone sits wondring at his actions, his valure instru••teth valure, & his equal in eue∣ry vertue hath not issued from y^e wombe of a liuing mother, insomuch that my thoughts rather bind me to adore him as a god, then estéeme him as the son of Barbin my friend a mar∣chant Berea, from whose eies loue borrowed a light to illu∣minate al the lampes of heauen, hearing Meruin thus highly eralted by the speech of Iacob, found a ioy excéeding al ioy, as much beyond compare, as her beauty aboue equalitie, trium∣phantly dominering through her royal veines, inriching her heart with the treasure deliuered to hir parts. wherefore like babes, gréedy of sweete meates till they euen surfet with de∣light, shee further demaunded of Iacob, where hee had beheld Meruin in that warlike sort, which made him estemd so rare a Martialist. Diuine Lady, qd Iacob, by that religious faith I owe our great god Mahomet, I haue séen him in so dan∣gerous fight, and in such vnspeakeable trouble, that neuer knight hath indured or performed so mightie a warfare with such vnspeakeable vertue. And there hée in selfe maner dis∣coursed al the enploits done by Mernin, as Tyrus before had reported to his father: which not onely bred an amazement in the King▪ but an inward intire loue, insomuch that from the boundlesse humor of his affection, he heartily wished he were his sonne. And withal said, incomparable Meruine, might but thy valure ingirdle my fortunes, excellently wouldest thou reuenge me of these ouerdaring Kings, who come to as∣sail•• me: but woe is me, base is the desert of thy linage, that should I hold thée as my supporter, dishonour would attach me with indignitie: yet I am assured, should I send to thée Count Brandis, he would not for a world deny his deliuery.

Thus reasoned the King in himselfe, diuersly h••lde with the diuers arguments of feare and desire.

2 But Berea in whome the extremitie of pleasure chal∣lenged an intrest of 〈◊〉〈◊〉, gaue ioy the possession of her heart, and su••rendered al her spirits to the dispose of loue, and her happie fortune. Yet as a corrector of passion, when hée he grew too great a Libertine, she would sometimes sigh, and chide her forgetfull conceits, saying Care to purchase his re∣turne, ought to busie them from their delight, & then would she create a thousand thoghts, how to bring him backe wohse absence diuorst her from her happy longings. Whilest thus shée and the king were both musing, she of his vertues, hee how he became so vertuous. Iacob, who perceiued in them both a dumbe wishing, saide to the king, Trust me (my soue∣raigne) if either aff••āce may be had in my true intent, or trust in my counsel your Maiestie shal vndoubtedly send for him, sith his presence is an assured conquest, & the gods alone haue sworne he shall commaund & control victorie, whose like for mightinesse of shape, & couragious resolution hath not bene seene in all our former ages. The king to these words would returne no answer, but as one desino••s to forget his own de∣sires, talked of other matters, to expel the thoughts of these proceedings.

3 But Berea, who made precious euery time with the pre∣cisenesse of her regarde, now finding opportunitie (a kinde a∣gent to her hopes) drew Iacob aside into a priuate corner (& greedy to know an end of that which in her could atteine to no end) said vnto him, Iacob, by that excellent creator which created me, thou hast maried my delight to a delight beyond delight, in thy loues prayses of that delicat yong man whom we cal Meruin, because I haue knowen him, euen from the infancie of his infācie to these riper yeres of youth that haue

infra••chised him from the ••••••••etnesse of schoole rudiments: yet in all that time, nor in my time haue I séene a creature more admirably compact, or in whom valure, and aduenture haue held more preheminence. Beléeue mée, and by my, soules god Mahomet I protest, it is a pitie deseruing more thē a pitiful regard, that he wanteth lands and reuenues worthy to enric•• him with honour: but most of all grieuous, that he is no gen∣tleman, in whom al the condicions of gentrie chalengeth such a wonderous prerogatiue. Ha, diuine lady (sayd Iacob) Mer∣uine hath all whatsoeuer Nature or heauen can infuse into a mortal creature, or man or woman can bestow of a blessed in∣fant. As for land, it is as fruitelesse as tastlesse, if labour giue it not a sweet relish: velure is the mistris of his deuotion, and hee is exc••llently valiant the heauen climbing conceit, wher∣of doubtlesse will mount him on the highest steppe of honor. If I may well say what in my conceit portendeth to a well meaning intent, were I king of Hungaria, Calabria, & Po∣lonia, and for a blessing of those hie dignities, had but one sole daughter twise fai••er then the fairest euer Mahomet crea∣ted, I would giue her and it only to Meruin: yea, and imagin it a dowrie much too little for the vertue, force, and true mag∣namitie with which he is so gloriously adorned. When the paragon of al perfections, the most beutiful Berea heard the••e words, first she blusht as afrayd, lest his eyes had st••ept the••r sight in her inward desires, and then driue away the blusht with a pale mantle of shamefast reioycing, to heare him so admired, exchanging white & red so often in her counterance that the beh••lders might wel grow inchanted with those co••lours, and yet h••ld them neuer more excellent, & yet the most excellent when equally m••xt, they bare like soueraigne••••e in her angel-ex••••lling face. After this contending superioritie of lookes, she turned as••de, & whispered thus to her selfe, Ha Mer••••••, Mer••illc, the many praises of thy renoune, a••e the 〈…〉〈…〉 my hart, leauing

no restraint to my desires, but the palle of vertue: & yet thou knowest it not, it is now more then sixe yéeres since first loue tooke flight from thine eies to harbour in my heart, yet thou knowest it not: onely haue my vowes aspired to heauen for thée, yet thou k••ewest it not, neither dare I (alas) for the base∣nesse of thy linage take away this ignorant mischiefe of my blisse. Alas thou knowst it not. Yet shuld I liue an exile fro my fathers countrey (so a diuine vnion, cald mariage, had made vs one soule) I had rather endure a tormenting euill with thy presence, thē al the gorgeous aduancement, heauen or mine own wishes could giue or desire, with the greatest pa∣gan emperour of the world. Thus spake Berea the glory of Nature, who when Iacob perceiued so passionat, fearing le•••• the too great liberalitie of his words had offended, in this ma∣ner began to excuse them. Deare lady (sayd he) be not offen∣ded that the height of my praises haue attained no higher a subiect then Meruine, who is higher in my thoughts, then heauen in the eie of any man: neither impute error to my spe∣ches, fith by heauen I haue not lied in any thing, neither spo∣ken to flatter the priuate conceit of any peculiar, nor the pub∣lique auditorie of so gracious an assembly: but what I haue said, euen the wings of euery wind will whistle. Then graci∣ous madam bowe not your countenance from me, neither be displeased with my rude reportings. Ha no quickly answered Berea, who was willinger to increase volums, then abridge a letter, thy words moue me no amasement of dislike, there∣fore I beséech thée faile not, but come and speake with me in my chamber before thy departure from the court. At this the lady and Iacob discouered themselues, and Iacob went a∣gaine vnto the king, who euen then was roially set at dinner, and commanded Iacob to attend him & the Queene. Then began the king to discourse the hie malice of Baucamont & of his warlike expedition towards Montment, with all the occurrencs of that intended warfare, as a troublesom theam

whereof only his mind noted. After di••••••r was ended, and the king risen Iacob humbly took his leaue to depart, yet ere he went, he inquired the way to the yong princesse Bereas lodgings, and thither he went: but she, poore loue-torne lady, was laid on alitle couch couerd with rich tissue, tormenting her heart with her thoughts, and her thoughts with loue, so excéedingly, that the abundance of her sorow gaue l••berty to her tongue to vtter, and in vttering to double her languor: ay me, qd she, dearer then the dearest of my selfe to me. O only absolute Meruine, thy absence is my death, and thy re∣membrance the continuall obsequies for my deceased happi∣nes: yet is my death blameles, sith I die for the most wise, most beautifull, most valiant, and most accomplisht creature in the world, whose renowne is spread through Galile, and all the corners of thearth. Ha Meruine, Meruine, when shal I behold the day of thy arriuall? when shall I bathe my eies in thy eies, whisper in thy eare, and hang on thy bosome? O excellent loue vnknowne to thée, thou hast my loue, my ver∣tuous loue, gouerne me then as thy captiue, and dispose me as thy seruant. At these wordes beating the pallace of her breast, she turned and tossed, as if the motion of her bodie could remoue her passion, but it was impossible. Then cal∣ling an eunuch to her commanding him to marry his voice to his lute▪ she bade him sing some canzonet that might ra∣ther kil, than increase passion: the eunuch sung as follow••••

I doe not now complaine of my disgrace, Though neuer soule of greater griefes could bost: Nor of the houre, season, time nor place. Nor of my foile, for any freedome lost. Nor of my liues ioy by misfortune danted, Nor of my wit, with ouerweening strooke, Nor of my sence with any sound inchanted, Nor of the force of fierie pointed looke.

Nor of the steele that strikes within my wound, Nor of my thoughts, by worser thoughts, defacde: Nor of the life I labour to confound But I complaine, that being thus disgracde: Fetterd, feard, frāt••ke, charmd, fierd, shotthrogh, slaine, My death is such, as I may not complaine.

On the last clause of this sonet, the noble merchant Iacob entred her chamber, whom so soon as Berea beheld, she gaue some respite to her mones, while a séeming ioy ouershado∣wed hir face, and an inward resolution (for many good parts she knew in him) tooke hold on her heart, giuing her assu∣rance without feare, to make him priuie to her long hid af∣fection. Wherefore after due reuerence done to her great∣nes, and a gratious welcome deliuerd from her silent looke, she bade him sit downe by her, and with a trembling voice the true herald of a vertuous meaning, ••hus said vnto him: Iacob, let it not séeme strange to thée, that hauing gone one step beyond wisedome, I seek by danger to ouerrun feare, and let me coniure thée by that power, to whom in thy deu••∣tion thou hast giuen power ouer thy being, to kéep secret in thine inward soule, wbat my ouerburdned hart shall vnload vnto thée. Iacob in whom wonder had raised a hie colour of amazment answered: Lady, by that inuiolate faith due to our great god Mahomet, I promise to kéepe secret in the inclosure of my soule whatsoeuer you propound vnto me. Know then qd she (O chide me not whē thou knowst what I blush to know) at such time as I lay at Turgon with my mother nursed▪ not farre from thence the beautifull Mer∣uine (on whom doating Nature had bestowed all her trea∣sure) went to schoole, whither I much frequented to learne the knowledge of diuine philosophy: but alas the knowledge I learned was the confounding of my vnderstanding: for there, euen there ••••came I surprised with the beauties of

Meruine, and so intangled with the loue of his perfections, that his thought is my torment, and his absence my death: so as if his returne be long, my life will be short, so much my loues martirdome wounds me with intolerable ••orrow: yet I take Diana to my witnes that al my loue hath bin hono∣rably chaste, in such sort as became my vertue, or my fa∣thers daughter, neither is he yet acquainted with my desire, nor haue I to any but thy self, bemoned my vnhappines, or discouered my loue. Wherefore I pray thée by the vehemēt passion of an vnfained louer, make means for his return, fith many yeares are past in my remembrance since his depar∣ture. Lady said Iacob, it is but x. months the last wéeke past since his departure. Ten months answered the Lady! Ay me, euery day is a wo••lds age in the computation of my mind, so flow is the passage of my sorrowes: wherefore, by all the vertues of thy mind••, & the loue thou bearest to Mer∣uine, I coniure thée, ioyne with me in some happy strata∣geme by which we may worke his returne to this country. By Mahomet, qd Iacob, Lady I can not possibly inuent how. Then haue I deuised the way (repl••ed Berea) & thus it is: You shall to morrow morning come to my chamber to speak with me, at what time I will haue written a letter in my fathers name to the counte Brandis, & hauing this night priuily taken his scale, signe it therewith in such sort as you shall haue Mernine deliu••red you. Then shall you take Barbin with you, but by no means make him priuy to our complots, but stifly maintaine, it is the act of my father. When you haue Meruin, at such time as Baucamont who shortly wil beleager vs, shal detaine his army, bring him ar∣med at all points into the field, to ioyne with my father, and doubt not of his intertaine whose succor wil be so gracious. Iacob accorded to al she could inuent or desire, & so departed, leauing the lady to herselfe, to study on the inditing of a let∣ter so weighty, which at length she perfited to hir own con∣tentment,

and then sealed it with the kings owne seale. And in the morning Iacob came and receiued it, protesting a di∣ligenter regard in performance of such a royall affaire. The lady gaue him infinite thanks, with promise of an inspeake∣able reward, and then she deliuered him an C. duckats to defray his ordinarie charge, and a curious wrought chaine, of pea••le and gold, which she charged him in hir loues name, to present to Meruine, and withall to let him vnderstand the interest he held in her loue. All which with solemne oths he vowed honestly and zealously to performe. Then Iacob tooke leaue of the Lady, and came to the house of Barbin, to whom he said, My best friend Barbin make your selfe ready with all spéed to go with me from the K. to Brandis, to fetch your son Meruine home againe. Barbin, to whom no sound could bring swéeter melody, told him the newes was balme to his griefes. So dispatching his busines, and taking order for his home occasions they departed together in great hast, whom on the seas sailing towards Brandis we will leaue, and a while speake of king Baucamont, and thother pagan princes, who after the late storme found so prosprous a gale, that he arriued at the port of Luternia, a moneth after the departure of Iacob and Barbin. Thence they marched with conquest to Montment, which city they be••ieged with two hundred thousand Turks. After they were lodged and in∣trenched Baucamont caled a councel of his chiefest barons, and consulted among them what was to be done, and whe∣ther it were best to assault it at their first approach, I or no. To which opinion of assaulting Eclamard dissented, saying, Rather would I hold the first decrée agréed of amongst vs, which is, to send ••j. of your approued knights to Mermont, to shew wherefore we came hither, and what cause hath s••∣wen this séed of warfare among vs, requesting hi•• daughter the beautifull Berea, which if he will send to you to be ioined in the holy bands of mariage, that then we wil return to our

countries, otherwise indure the vttermost worst of warres afflictions: and this hold I the safest course in our procéed∣ings, because if here we lengthen out time with a long and lingring warfare, Gualtier the dane, now raigning in Ba∣bylon, and Guion of Denmarke both brothers to the euer renowmed Oger, who at this instant beare such eternall hate to pagans▪ may in our absence exile our peace from our owne countries. Againe, which is of greatest auaile against vs, one of great knowledge reuealed to me, that the mighty emperor king Charles of France, meaneth this season to visite them, and to adore the holy sepulchre of their god. Wherefore the spéedier we make our returne, the stronger our owne peace, and safetie of our countries; for the absence of kings are the deaths of nations

CHAP. XI.

1 Of the dispatch of Bauc••monts two knights to Mer∣mont. 2 Mermont in despight of Baucamont impriso∣neth them. 3 Of the assault, 4 and death of Cla∣rissa the coward.

THe counsell of Eclamard, Baucamont and all his Barons applauded as most excellent, wherefore at that present was Morgant and Nigron roially dispatched for the embassade, who in solemne maner entered into the citie, and thence were conueied to the pallace, where ascending a paire of stately staires, they entered into the great cham∣ber▪

where they found the king Mermont accompan•••••• with a number of woorthy Barons, to whom Morgant first speaking, gaue this salutation, That Mahomet the eterna••l regent and poss••ssor of the whole world, who kéepeth from euill & lendeth vnending dayes to the mightie Baucamont king of Damascus, the same Mahomet confound his ene∣mies, whose weapons mainetaine warre against him. Then he procéeded thus in his ambassage: King Mermont, the king my master salutes thée by vs, and Saieth he wondereth whi∣ther thine ancient wisdom is fled, that thou refusest to giue him thy faire chast daughter, whose euery excellence, the height of his royall dignities shall counterpoise: therefore these are his latest summons, either now send her by vs to make happy his desires, or hereafter it will be too late to re∣pent thy liues end, ending thy glories: if then now thou wilt stoup the ambition of thy will, sending her with a frée con∣sent, the mariage without delay shall be solemnized, and all his royall army shal depart without damage to thy countrey.

2 When Mermont with an often exchanging cheeke had heard his deliuerie, cholerike anger roused vp his lion spirits teaching his brow such frowns of displeasure, that Morgant quaked to behold thē. Then said Mermont, take those inso∣lent orators of disgrace▪ & cast them into some hideous ••••••••••∣couering ••ungeon, for that is both my reply and resolution, where in despight of Baucamont, their woes shall consume their breathes. At these wordes they were each one on euery side (hauing nothing to say for themselues, but praiers to Mahomet for their (protection) taken & cast in most lothsome imprisonment, where their day was blacknesse, and the breath they ••rew, the aire of their sighes before breathed.

3 After this the king Mermont caused an alarme to be cried o••er all the city: then calling Clarissa, said vnto him, let

it not be troublesome to thée honorable Clarissa, that this day I commit into thine inuincible protection, mine ensigne, the glory and badge of my dignitie, sith to thy woorth the earth hath refused to beare an equall, as the glory of thy cariage at our last triumph was a sufficient••witnes, thy wisedom is the gouerner of my fame, & thy fortitude the hope of my redemp¦tion. My earthes god (answered Clarissa) banish al doubtfull feare, for I will support thy standard with such resolution as shal become the greatnesse of so royal a burden, (wo alas, had but Mermont knowē his extreme cowardise, not the world could haue made him hazard his honour in so weake handes) or his imagind reputation was but y^e stolne shadow of Mer∣uines perfection. Now Clarissa w••unded to death with his own glory, had no succour to flie vnto, but his chamberlaine that only was priuie to what passed betw••xt Meruin & him, who at ••hat instant lay exceedingly si••ke of a qua••tane feuer. Wherefore comming to him, Clarissa sayd, either must thou now rise and sustaine my falling fortune, or all the honor that I haue won by y^e euer conquering hands of inui••c••ble Mer∣••ine, will now vtterly be lost, & I confounded: for the m••gh∣tie standard of king Mermōt this day is deliuered to my pro∣tection, and what a neuer dying sham it were thou knowst, if it be not caried with red••ubted valiancie, when inumerabl•• blowes eternizeth the helmes of deaths tragedians. Sir▪ sayd the chamberlain (who euene then was piteously ague shaken, were all the golden mines of the world proposed to me for re∣compense, it were impossible to raise me, because in my bodie wantes vital habilitie. When Clarissa heard him, he stroke him with so fierce a cowards blow, that two of his téeth flew out of his mouth & then departed out of the chamber in great choler, and came to king Mermont whom he intreated with al the spéed he could to giue an alarme to the tentes of his e∣nimies, who as yet secure dreamt of no danger, & by that sur∣prise, doubted not but to attaine infinite renowne. And these

words were vttered with such a trembling spirite, that king Mermont in that Index, might haue read his cowardise, if former resolue had not blinded suspect. But he feared him not so, that at his en••reatie, he withall his Barons sallied from the towne, being 10000 well ordered souldiers. When as Baucamont beheld the comelinesse of their march, he called all his barons together, and sayd. Behold lords in what war∣like pompe king Mermont bringeth the paragon of beautie, diuine Berea, to be espoused to our greatnesse. I charge there∣fore euery soule on alleageance and my loue▪ that they be rea∣dy to receiue them with all y^e honour possible can be deuised. Thus spake he whose thoughts were flowen beyond y^e Alpes farre from the purpose of Mermont for he came accōpanied with the king of Calabria named Sallames, and of his bro∣ther Marandus, to whom he vsed contrary eloquence, saying Ualiant and heroike commanders, we are but a point to the great circle of our enemies, a handfull to a boundlesse masse, let vs kéepe together, and making of our many but one true strength, fight like a not to be sundred mountain, that when the great hoste of our foes is conuicted▪ we may with smal or no losse, make an honorable r••trait to Montment. To these words the whole armie gaue a shoute of consent, and withall spurring their horses, gaue a gallant charge on the face of their enemies: but Clarissa, whose heart was then benumd witha cold palsy, durst not carie y^e standard vpright, least the viewe of that marke of honour should encline the ambitious minded mighty ons to assaile his faint hardines which al the armie of Montment. to their grief perceiued, so y^t Mermont with his fellowes in vnspe••ble furie, thrust himselfe amōgst his enimies, euen amongst their tents which they cut & hew∣ed down in admirable maner, killing their foes as they went in huge multitudes. There was neuer a turke that Mermōt met, but he stroke him dead to the earth, crying to al his host; Lords and renowmed fellowes, strike couragiously, & neither

feare king, prince nor peasant, for this day haue I taken con∣quest my prisoner. At these wordes, a pleasant angry Turk went to Baucamont, & sayd: Glory my soueraigne be to thy wedding day, for Mermont hath brought his daughter on his sword, and tendered her vnto the priest, with such me∣morable blowes, that if you s••••ne acknowledge not satisfacti∣on, his paiment will impouerish you of all your attendants. Baucamont hearing, & angry to heare this, tooke his lance, and swore by all the deitie of Mahomet, to bée gloriously re∣uenged on Mermont, and the•• like a stormie whirlewind he ran into the hoste of Montment, crying Damas, Damas, for the glory of Damas. Then began the ••ight to renue his age, and to shew himselfe in his lustiest youth, doubling the deaths and wounds, of the both sides pursuing pagans. A∣none Baucamont being maunted on his steed Marcheuall, which sometimes belongd to the euer renowned duke Oger, the father of Meruine, he peceiued where Mermont rode triumphing in the conquest of his sword, whom he pursued with a valiant emulation, till Mermont beholding him, turned to encounter him, and sayd: Now Baucamont re∣ceiue from my sword the loue salute of Berea, whom before thou shalt enioy, this earth, the commō receptacle of the dead, shal be mine instant ha••itation. Then with their wounding héeles spurring their horses▪ they encountred either other so furiously, that both flew from their horses to the ground.

4 Assoone as Clarissa beheld the king his master ouer∣throwen, as if his coward heart had a symp••thie of euery mans afflictions, he betooke himselfe to flight, but far had not the wings his woe borne him, but a pagan, who all the day had obserued his faint hartednes, came upon him, and gaue him such a blow with his sword, that he fell soone dead from his horse▪ yéelding to a shamefull life, a sodaine death. But al this while Mermont & Baucamont assailed ech other with

such kingly magnificence, that al the army stood in an amaze to behold them. In the end Mermont by the helpe of many handes was remounted, after which he assailed Baucamont with inestimable cruelty, yet he by the miraculous aide of his powers, which were infinite, defended himselfe, & despight of spight got on the backe of March••ual. Then began the bat∣tel, as if til then it had not begun, during which lamentable effusion, the king Sallames perceiuing Eclamard who had flaine a countlesse number of his host, came running against him & gaue him such a well wishing blowe, that if the pagan had not spéedily turnd, he had neuer turnd more than the last turne which turneth to life eternall: notwithstanding, the blowe was sent from so willing a spirit of anger, that glan∣cing downe, it disseuerd his hand from his arme, which when Eclamard felt, he spurred his horse, and betooke his flight to his tent, whilest the whole armie which then were sadly dis∣comforted, aduised him to returne and inclose Mermont, which Sallames vnderstanding, foorthwith gaue counsell to retrait, lest that a sodaine inclosure should defeit their gotten happinesse, which they did most honorably, retiring pace by pace to the towne, their faces still fixt on their enemies: but in this retraite Mermont lost much, because Baucamont fo∣lowed excéeding close, yet neuerthelesse, the other side lost much more, who returned to their tents discontented, be∣cause vnreuenged. Now was Mermont brought to his pal∣lace, where his Quéene and daughter roially receiued him, demaunding both his health and successe in battell, which he reported in doubtfull maner, saying, both sides had lost, yet assuring them that Baucamont should neuer liue to enioy Berea: to which words Berea gaue humble thanks with princely reuerence. Then demanded Berea what was be∣come of Clarissa, to whom the king sayd, If thou louest me daughter, name not the base traitor, whose cowardise would neuer giue him leaue to strike one blowe, either with sword

or lance, till he was slayne by the hands of a common soul∣dier. Many other discourses the king and his barons held, til supper being serued, they sate downe: which no sooner finish∣ed, but Berea went to the chamber of Clarissas chamberlain, to whom shée reported his masters death. Lady (sayd he) griene not for his destinie, for why, his merite was of al men least deseruing, & he altogether vnméete, either for skirmish or battell. And there he discoursed vnto her all his stolne glo∣ry, how the prize he had before wonne, was not his, but the prowesse of young Meruine, and that he himselfe had bene many times armed in his name. And lastly, of the vngentle∣manly blow he gaue him, because he refused to weare his ar∣mour, & beare the standard of Mermon in that last battell.

CHAP, XII.

1 The arriual of Iacob, and Barbin at Brandis. 2 The pre∣senting of the letter to the Counte. 3 Meruine is deli∣uered to them. 4 Mineae perswaded Croisant to accom∣pany Meruine, which he did, with 400. horsemen.

WHen all the worlds beauteous eie, beautifull Berea vnderstood, that Clarissa had got the honour of the Ioust, and the prized cup, not by himselfe, but by the diuine valiant hand of her best beloued Meruine, modestly her heart capred in her bosome, and shee vnable to containe her thoughts, departed to her chamber, where first throwing her selfe vpon her bed, and then taking a well speaking

lute, she apparelled her voice to the sounding strings, and sung in this maner:

Eyes with your teares, blind if you bee, Why haue those teares such eyes to see? Poore eyes, if your teares can mooue My teares, eyes then must moane my loue: Then eyes since you haue lost your sight, Weepe still, and teares shall lend you light, Till both dissolue, and both want night.

No, no cleare eyes, you are not blind, But in your teares discerne my mind, Teares is the language which you speake, Which my heart counting, it must breake: Then cease ill tongue to t••ll my wrongs, My sighes shall get them better tongs, To tell what heauen to loue belongs.

After she had sung this, as if the lute doubled her imagina∣tions, she threw it from her, & with erected hands & beteared eyes, she sayd. Thou onely honour to beautie, exellent Mer∣uine, be gratious to my thrall, and retorte my miserie, & you gentle windes, quickly and with easie murmure, conuey my passions into his eares, whereas yet neuer entred my lamen∣tations: be spéedie honourable Iacob, and assure the honor of my affections, else shall my de••ires be my death, and loue my burial: thus lamented she▪ in whom woe was louely, because adorned with her loue: but Meruin altogether skillesse of her complaint, led in Brandis a most pleasant and delectable life: for why? the Countesse thereof did loue him with a most per∣fit and sincere loue, so likewise did Minea, whose careful in∣timacie so regarded him, that it was more laborsome for him to wish, then to attaine the end of his wish, but the absolutely

vertuous Meruine neuer had vnchast thought, nor euer ac∣companied woman but Berea, whom he married, and begate of her Orient, the father of the seauen signes, as is written in the holy histori•• of Godfrey of Bullein. But I will leaue them, and returne to Iacob and Barbin, who ar••iuing at Brandis, and com••ing to the house of Minea, were solemne∣ly receiued of her and all her attendants. Then Barbin in∣quired of the health of Meruine, and was assured by her, that he was excellently well, for that she had supped with him the last night. Then he told her, that his occasions im∣portuned him to goe to the earles court to deliuer him a let∣ter for the re••ease of Meruine. The musike of this newes entred harshly into hereares, for that she wisht nothing lesse then the departure of Meruine, yet she couered it vnder a deceitfull shadowe of conten••ment, and then conducted them to the earles pallace, where they found him with a falcon on his fist: (for his delight was wholy in hauking) but wh•••• the Counte beheld Minea, he sayd, Lady, what occasion hath drawen you into these parts? Then Iacob drawing foorth the letter, gaue the earle this salutation.

Mahomet that is our god, and the god of Asia, preserue the mightie king Meurmont, and blesse you, whom that good king kindly regréeteth by these letters. Then in most humble maner, kissing the superscription, he presen∣ted them to his hands, who breaking open the seales, read them, the tenure whereof was this. (∵)

❧ The letter of king Mermont, to the Counte Brandis.

MOst thrise excellent and re∣nowmed Counte Brandis,

we haue beene aduertised, that for an occasion of no great moment, more then the defence of a spotlesse re∣putatiō, you hold one of our liege people prisoner. Wher∣fore, by vertue of our royall authoritie, wee com∣maund you, that without delay, or further pro∣longing of excuse, you returne him to our saued handes, and send vs in writing all the articles of his imprisonment: and we protest by the holy title of our Crowne, to make full satisfaction. If o∣therwise you repell, and effect the contrary, expect nothing, but the vttermost worst of our indgnation.

Written at Mou••ment,

and signed Merm••nt.

No sooner had the earle read this letter which Berea had composed and sealed with her fathers seale, but he sayd to Ia∣cob, honourable sir, your welcome is as good as your owne desires can intreat, and most willingly shal you haue Meruin restored, whō, if he had wrongd me a thousand fold more then he hath, yet would I deliuer him for the loue of the famous king Mermont, to whom I am in kinred néerest allied: & assure his highnesse, that if I had knowen him for one of his subiects, I would not haue detained him for a kingdome.

3 Tis vaine to make a long tale of a light subiect: Meruine was sent for, & deliuered to Iacob, & his father Barbin, who accepted him with al ioy, and imbraced him with the highest contentment: and he on thother part did that duetifull reue∣rence, which either a son ought, or a father expecteth. Then the earle sayd vnto him, Meruin•• this night will I do thée ho∣nor to sup with me, because for the loue of king Mermont I haue forgotten thy misdoings: & then the Sewer being ari∣ued, the kings seruice was sent vp, & they feasted with great pompe. The solemnitie being ended, Iacob, Barbin & Mer∣uin, went with Minea, to her house, where they lay for that night: yet before they went to their rest, Iacob drew Meruin apart in secret, and told him in wel couched phrases, adorned with a most graue & staied countenance, that the diuine lady of all hearts only beautifull Berea saluted him, sending him that sacred chast affection which no time could outweare, nor force violate. In briefe, he laid open all the large volume of her loue, & how she had composed that l••tter which was the meane of his redemption, with many other testimonies of her holy desires; euen on the tip of Iacobs tongue, as he was tal∣king, sate Loue heading new darts, and from thence tooke his ••light into the heart of Meruine, where he commented of all that was spoken, doubling each praise, and redoubling euery perfection, and in the end, in that religious Sanctuarie, set

downe this immoueable iudgement, that Berea was most excellent, worthy of all loue, & therefore by him should euer be beloued. Hence began the sparkles of loues purest order, and hence grew an vnlimited desire in Meruine, spéedily to behold his n••w selected goddesse. Then Iacob presented to him from hir a paire of gorgeous gloues, on which was im∣brodered a turtle doue in a bower of roses, and this Motto, Neue•• euer alone, which Meruin receiued as kindly, as they were sent willingly, often kissing and rekissing them, as the blessed ensigns of a fortunate loue. By this the night grew old, so that euery one betooke them to their rest: but Mer∣uine that night indented with his new thoughts that they should exile sléepe from his eyes, and make his rest the rest∣ing on his loues imaginations: and so they did.

4 But when Minea perceiued that Meruine must so soone depart, she sent a messenger in all haste to Croisant, to intreate him to bring all his power to conduct Meruine to his owne country: the which he did, bringing with him to Brandis foure hundred horsemen his attendants. When the morning had set open the gates, through which the day might passe, Meruine arose and desired his father & the rest to make haste in their departure: he longed excéedingly to sée his brother Tyrus, and the rest of his kinred: but they that could haue read on the table of his desires might haue séene it was Berea to whom his wishes aspired. By this they were all ready, then Minea brought him his armes, and his sword, and one of his squires brought him his mare Mordant, whereon he lightly va••ted without the aide of stirrop, and said; Ladies, to whom my seruice is bound in an eternall band, be Mahomet eue•• gratious to you, and graunt you all what you can desire. At this the countesse and Minea kist him, and then they departed: but the earle himselfe would néeds be their conduct to their ships, giuing

Iacob a letter to deliuer king Mermont, importing that he had set Meruine quit of all accusations. And further, that if his maiesty pleased to commaund him or his power against the enemies of his commonwealth, hee was ready, and would take it for a grace of vnspeakable kindnes. Thus hauing brought them to their ships, and séene them aboord, with triumph he returned to his castle, and Iacob, Barbin, Meruine, Croisant, and the 400. horsemen bequeathed themselues to the fauor of the seas and the winds mercy, of whom we will cease to speake, and treat of other matters.

CHAP. XIII.

1 The incounter betweene G••llien, Rotherus, the sonne of Oliuer and Meruine, 2 Of the good knight Drohes. who yeelded himselfe to Meruine.

THe euer memorable record of this famous hi∣story maketh mention, that in the same time that Meruine was departed from Brandis, as is before written, there was sailing vpon that sea, vpon which he then daunced, many French Christian knights, that forsooke the flowrie coun∣trey of Fraunce, to behold the diuine sepulchre of their holie Sauiour, amongst whom Oliuer that was exterminated by Marsilius, had begotten on Iaquelin, whom Oliuer the beautiful daughter of the rich king named Hugues of Con∣stantinople, at such time as the truce was made by Char∣lemaine and his twelue péeres. There was also with this

Galien, Rotherus another knight, the remēbrance of whose vertue, might excéedingly wel equal the most praise-worthy reputatiō: he had to name Drohes, who after that time be∣came friend to Meruin, as shalbe fully mentioned in this pre∣sent ••istory. Behold now these christians chased by the vn∣mercifull fury of a violent storm, a••riued néere ••nto Meruin, who first perceiuing them, cried to his companions, this day is better then a Sabboth to my desires, for I discouer a ship laden with christian gallants: if it be rich, be yours the profit of their wealth, vouchsafe me no bootie but prowesse, and ho∣nor to my sword, which is al I desire to deserue. And at these words a courageous fire of valiant fury inuironed his heart. Now if the zealous minded christians, when they beheld the pagans were ouerrun wieh a doubtfull feare of their successe wonder not, for they were but thirtie•• and those il appointed both for armour and munition, so that if the eie of heauen be∣hold them not with a pitying aspect, their liues and honours are all in ieopardy by the valiancy of Meruin. Cosin Gallien said Drohes, behold how these pagans draw néere to assault vs, if Iehouah looke not from heauen, he••e shal our liues pay their last forf••t. Feare not cosine (replied Gallien) for by that faith I owe to th••lmightie, so long as I can hold my battel ax in my hand▪ so long wil I maintain my liberty, and doubt not but to send thousands of them to hell. Ha co••ine, against the foes of religion we ought to be eternaly valiāt, yet if God in his great booke of destinie haue set downe our tragedies in this cōflict, let vs receiue with ioyfulnes what we cannot re∣pel with vnwillingnes: Yet I protest to you by the greatest protestation of a christian soule, that before I be taken, ile infranchise so many pagan•• soules from their cursed bodies, that the cr••mosin cur••ents of their blood, shall vouchsafe my hands a perpetuall couerture. While Gallien was speaking this, Meruine and his companions, being already prepard for the battel, boorded Gallien, to whom Meruine ha••led &

demanded whence, and what they were, whose white cros∣••es were (said he) the signes of christianity which he had vo∣wed to root from the face of all nations. Scarcely was his last wordended, but the pagan mariners assaulted the chri∣stians whom Meruine & the rest with their swords in their fists, violently seconded, making almost the beginning and ending one moment. There might the eie of man behold a lamentable spectacle; for of xxx Christian soules in a trice were xxvj. breathlesse, only iiij. suruiuing, which▪ were Gal∣lien Drohes, and ij. others, which breathed scarse a breath, before their breaths vanished but Drohes turning aloft his stéelehewing sword (which the counte of Meulant had giuen him, when he fought against Sodonas) slew an infinit num∣ber of the valiantest Sarazens but Gallien caried himselfe so couragiously that he neuer stroke blow with his axe, but he disseuered the life from the body. When Croisant sawe the prowesse of Gallien, he cried vnto his people, that they should not for a world kil him, bicause he would present him as a great estimate to king Mermont: but that word of lifes safety cost him more by much than he desired to tender: for Gallien smote so thicke with his axe, that the Pagans in aboundance tumbled into the sea, Gallien still crying S. George and me; and withall crying; Thou holy Lamb of Iuda, comfort thy people. All this while the valiant acts of Meruine the son of Oger did, were wonders beyond won∣der, and more than words haue power to deliuer: yet what he did, he ill did, sith it was to exalt Mahomet, & shew him∣selfe an inuincible pagan, yet ought he not be hated for his misbeliefe, but curse with immortall malediction, that false fairy Gratiana, who stealing him, told not the trueth of his birth and being. Gallien and Drohes made great resistance against the Pagans, but the highest valure is profitlesse a∣gainst an higher resolution. Wherefore cosin Drohes, said Gallien, let me kisse thee, and bid thée farewell, for here shal

our bodies vnsundered, sunder their acquaintance, but our soule I hope, imbrace in the highest pallace of heauen. Well dost thou know, O that we had such cause to know! how Ganelon the traitor by his treason deliuered vnto the king Marcillius, my father Oliuer, and the famous Orlando, who died at Ronceualli: O Oliuer my father, thou scourge of S••razens turne back into heauen. Thus spake the wise Gallien, whom Meruine beholding with the eies of perfite anger, and séeing that none of his people durst approach him, cried, retire thou valurelesse amated nation, whose ear∣thy spirits are consumd with the fire of this christian, to me belongs the conflict, to me the rep••tation. Approaching to Gallien, he said, Traitor, all thy defences are but mists that vanish from thy safety, great hath bin thy conquest, greater thy fault for such conquest and greatest now shall be thy o∣uerthrow: Yet for thy valure sake, I will contradict my iudgement, yield, and thy life is saued. Were it not for cha∣ritie (said Gallien) I should hate thy soule, but thy body be assured, I detest, yet my selfe much more, should I haue but halfe a thought of submission: neuer was there pagan borne, to whom I will be obedient: and at that word he strucke a pagan that approched him with such furie, that he fell dead before Mernin. Mer••in beholding this true mag∣nanimity, had not euen at that instant wrath thrust pittie from her soueraignty, he had both saued and loued him, but being blinded with emulation, he rusht vpon Gallien, and strucke him vpon the head, that he claue him euen vnto the girdle. Wo alas Gallien the sonne of Oliuer, as memora∣ble for his vertues, as famous for his victories, is now slaine: forgiue him great Ioue that slew him, and yet it was a wound that wounded all christendome.

2 Now is Drohes alone, and yet not alone, for séeing Gallien dead, he was consorted with infinite perplexities,

and as twere armed with their inuisible tumults, he sware that before he died, he would reuenge his death, then flew he amongst the proudest Sarazins▪ sending infinites to at∣tend him whom he loued, but alas their courses were con∣trary, for Gallien ascending, they descended. So like a carelesse mad man, only discréetly wise in the waies of pro∣wesses did Drohes behaue himselfe, that leauing his own, he boorded the ship where the Pagans were inhaused, and there defended and offended with such vnspeakable corage, that not any but started backe and refused to assaile him. Iesus, said Drohes, that madest the crosse glorious by thy passion, shall I, O must I die here, and thus vnreuenged, with that word he leapt into a litle boate that was behind at the st••rn of the ship and swore by holy Mary, that who so entred there, he would be his deaths man: for sithence he was alone, he would sell his owne▪ & his fellowes liues, at the rate of a bloody tribute. Then came Meruin all amazed, saying; Christian, for pure loue only of thy vertue, if thou wilt yield, and trust mine honorable reputation, by Maho∣met, and him thou callest thy redéemer, thou shalt haue no harme, only the title of my prisoner, and for the renowne of thy valiancie shalt goe whither fortune shall conduct mée: this do, and so do, otherwise by Alcaron, my honour and my sword, instantly either thou or I will be entertained into de••ths mansion. Drohes hearing the thunder, yet the swéet thunder of Meruins speach, albeit it made but a dole∣full melody in his eares, yet entring into many souldierlike considerations, both of after aduenture, and present dan∣ger, guided by the grace of God and his good Angell, he ac∣cepted a will to accept those conditions▪ saying to himselfe: By that celestial virgin who bare the fruit of life, it is better to be in prison, and prolong life with some hope, then pre∣sently die, and the soule vnsatisfied. Then raising his voice aloft; Noble pagan, qd he to Meruine, on these conditions,

that neither my life be violated, nor I vrged to deny my reli∣gion, I yeeld my selfe, Christian qd Meruin I assure it thée: then Drohes deliuerd vp his sword, and Meruine receiued it. At the instant of this aduenture, there stood by a pagan, who boiled to shew himselfe a notable varlet, and séeing Drohes without armes, he smote him ouer the face, saying Uillaine, thy death is sworne. With that Meruine turned back, in whom rage by desert challenged an interest, bicause both his faith and honour was profaned, saying to the Pa∣gan, Thou son of a common vnsatisfied whore, proue why thou smotest this Christian, who is yielded my prisoner, and to whom by warranty my reputation is ingaged: with that Meruine lifted vp Drohes sword being naked in his hand, and stroke the Pagan, that he claue him to the teeth: then amplifying his protestation, said, By Mahomet, if there be any man, of what estate soeuer, that impeacheth my pro∣mise, or doth my word wrong to any christian, this hand, and this sword shall minister reuenge: for all my déeds shal be iust and religious. O immortall creator (said Drohes to himselfe) how well worthy is this Pagan to rule a monar∣chie! I haue not séene a creature more wise, gracious, nor more valiant. O thou that disposest all things, dispose and conuert his thoughts to christianity▪ so shal he be well wor∣thy of all honours, otherwise my thoughts are prophets, presaging an vnspeakeable losse to ensue by his chiualrie. These praises whispered Drohes of Meruine, being but the first sacrifices of a greater loue which ensued. Now came Barbin to Meruine saying, My beloued sonne, too strong a a witnes is this blow of thy heauy displeasure, I pray thée of loue▪ giue not to thy followers matter of indignation, as you haue done to him you haue slaine. Father qd Meruine, dissimulation is a branch of cowardise, I will be plaine and iust, if the greatest monarch vnder heauen wrong me, my sword shall right me. Yea but (said Barbin) feare is fellow

with tyrannie & souldiers must be preserued with affabilitie. By Mahomet answered he againe, I will be feared through∣out the world, & who so is not feared, is not truly beloued▪ of whatsoeuer is gotten by the conquest of these christians, I desire nothing part it amongst you, saue onely this prisoner: wherefore let none doe him villanie, for it is mine indignitie. This sayd: al the pagans trembled, till with a chéerefull coun∣tenance he gaue new life to their terror: such effects of won∣der was in his beholding. Now all troubles being appeased, the pagans diuided the bootie amongst them, and Meruine withdrawing himselfe into his cabin, onely made himselfe rich, with heaping to himselfe infinite wishes to behold and enioy the most admirable Berea: and in these cogitations he sayled with such prosperous successe, that in few dayes they arriued at the port Luternia, where they landed, two leagues from the host of king Baucamont, who as you haue heard, had besiedged Mermont within Montment, with two hun∣dred thousand men, and had so continued fiue moneths, from the time that Barbin and Iacob departed in quest for the on∣ly valiant Meruine, whom they brought with 300. fighting men, 400. they had at their departure from Brandis, but in the conflict at sea, they lost 100. Now as they marched, it was told Meruin that the next morning should a great bat∣tell be fought betwéene the kings, wherefore Meruine sayd vnto Iacob, I pray you let vs adde wings to our féete, that we may flie to the beginning of the battel, for in it shal Berea behold me either honoured or intombed. Thus, and in these discourses, they shortned the tiresome way, passing by a little cottage, and thence entred into a small village, but there they found nothing to eate, for Baucamont had destroied al. Thus will I leaue to speake of Meruine, and will returne to Mermont, and his fortunes in the next dayes mighty battell.

CHAP. XIIII.

1 Of the great battell before Montment. 2 Merm••nt taken prisoner. 3 Meruines arriuall and recouerie of Mermont, 4 Meruines exploites in the battell. 5 His second deliuery of Mermont, & other accidents.

AS sonne as the sun had put on the dayes gol∣den armour, Mermout arose and comman∣ded proclamation through the towne that e∣uery one armed should mount on horsback, for that day he would giue battell to Bauca∣mont: and when all the host was assembled, he ordered his battalions according to the customs of the most ancient Romanes: which done, he gaue his standard to be caried by a notable pagan, the sonne of his sister, na∣med Tufer, who had in his regiment. 20000. h••rsemen. The second batalion was commaunded by a most fierce Sarazen called Arufait, who also had 20000. Murgaffier his bro∣ther conducted the third: the fourth was led by the high Ad∣mirall, a man both proud and valiant: and the fift, the king himselfe commanded euery regiment being 20000. frō rank to ranke. Mermont the king in great maiesty pased, admo∣nishing his people with excellent persuasions, saying, Lords and my fellows in this high worke of fortitude, behold now the prize of the most excellent resolution, make her the aime of your thoughts, and winne her by your almighty actions: right is your assistant, and Mahomet your guide, the thing

you defend, is your inheritāce, & the man offending is Bau∣camont a st••āger, an vsurper, and worst of all▪ a tyrant: be then valiant, and spare none, sith his malice spareth not to roote out you and your families. Many other arguments of incouragement he vsed and then issued out of the towne in a well ordered march, and pace for pace, in as orderly equipage approched their enemies, who staied, for them ranged and or∣dered in most formall, proportion. When Baucamont be∣held the power of Mermont so well deraind and deuided, he went from ranke to ranke, & cheared his men with these spée∣ches: My Lordes and Barons, for the honour of your names euer till now eternized, lap vp in obliuion the remembrance of your wiues and children, and saue honor alone, kéepe no∣thing secret: our enemies are but few in number, it is impos∣sible for them to hold long, if euery one do his indeuour: O ••e then wondered at for valure, for the easier to attaine, the greater dishonor not attaining. Sir, replied the chiefe com∣manders of his armie, be resolued, that this day we wil either win Berea, or al be dissolued and in that hope set forward to fortune & our conquest. At those words Baucamont moun∣ted on Marcheuall, which somtimes was Ogers, whose damme Meruin conquered, when he slew the traitour Bro∣hars (as you haue before heard) and when Baucamont was mounted, he caused a charge to be sounded: & his foes on the other side, answerd with like musick, O how gallant a thing it was, to heare the reuiuing clamors, to sée the ioyning of the hostes, to behold the shot of one and other side, in such abun∣dance that it seemed like a snow descending from heauen: when the shot ceased, then began they to fight hand to hand, Mermont, crying Montment, and Baucamont, Damas. There might you sée a fierce skirmish, as well of the ••laine pagans, as the dying wounded: there ran the horses vp and downe, trailing their reines in contempt, after them that but ere while ruled them. There might you sée a hand holding a

sword, but wanting a body to rule it: a man that but now fought to keepe away death, now lamenting for nothing, but that he could not haue death, all things confused, all things tumultuous: for such and no other is warres beauty. Mer∣mont being valiant, prickt amongst his enimies, exclaiming against Baucamont, and threatning reuenge for the wrongs both to come & perfited. And in this furie he smote a pagan named Malcuidant, that he tumbled dead before him: thence he passed and incoun••red Affricant, whom he slew likewise. Why shall I make laboursome my discourse? Mermont, be∣fore he ceased, slew fiue, & then cryed on his standard ••earer, whom he brought to the strength of his battell. Then Arti∣falt of Luterne, and Murgaffier his brother folowed him: on the other side Baucamont cried to his armie, come on gal∣lants, if any haue courage, let him follow me, and he shal not onely win gold, but kingdoms. With Baucamonts speaches his sou••diers tooke such courage, that in despight of fortune, Mermont and his hoste were compelled to retire. During the blacke sunne-shine of this contagions day▪ Berea was at Turgon standing on a tower, from whence shee beheld the battell: & when she saw her fathers army retire, with a pity∣ing sigh shée sayd, Ah Mahomet, that ou•• men had new strengths, or better fortunes: with that with entered the thoughts of Meruine into her memorie, for whom she excée∣dingly lamented, saying Deare loue most excellent, because onely worthy to be excellent, O how tardie are thy plumes, that conuey thée with no more spéed to our afflictiō? thou stai∣est too long, O thou staiest too long, come spéedily my loue, or these iron blowes of our enemies will confound vs, O blesse mine eyes once againe with the sight of thy ••alure, els shall my soule leaue my body, because my body shal be compelled to forsake thée. Thus, and with these teares of lamentation, complained she for her absent loue, who staied in the village where we left him, euen vntill morning, at which time he

arose, armed himselfe, and gorgeously adorned the top of his helmet, by fastning thereon the gloues sent him from Berea▪ Thus armed, he mounted on Mordant, and pacing foorth, found all his troupe ready attending his comming, and so in warlike maner they all departed, but in their marching Mer∣uine called Drohes to him, a••d sayd, Christian, if by that faith which so much thou holdest inuiolate, thou wilt this day aide vs in the battell, to which we are marching, I will both doe thée honour, command thee armes, and reuerence thy reputation. In faith (replyed he) or what els thou canst imagine I estéeme déerer, I will: neither doubt mee for dis∣loialtie, sith if all thine army should renounce thée, Drohes would die faithfully by thee. At those wordes Meruine com∣manded him armes; and when Drohes was armed, he made a vow, that if that day he encountred the pagans, then the Discipline and Iustice issuing from his sword, should te∣stifie, that the death of Gallien Rothorus should not sleepe vnreuenged. Now had they ridden so farre, that by the giant∣begotten cloudes, and the murmuring rumor of the troubled aire, they might see they were not farre from the battell: a∣none they might heare the noise, the cries and the incoun∣ters, all which assured their former imaginations.

2 Then pricking more eagerly forward, they hasted to b•• made parties in the con••••ict, yet ere they could approch, by ill chance Mermont was ouerthrown by Baucamont, & in de∣spight of his followers, taken prisoner: to whom Baucamont with reuiling words, sayd, Uassale to my fortune, this day is the last of thy lifes date, and thy death shall be shamefull, thy daughter in spight will I teare from thy possession, yet wil I lie with her but one sole night, for after I will bestow her on Pimon mine embassador to whō thou threatnedst death for bringing my message: such shame will I heap on thy crown, such scandal to thy fortune. This said, Baucamont calld An∣tifer,

and commanded him to conuey Mermont to his tent, til he had vtterly discomfited the rest of his army. Then took they Mermont and bound him with strong cords, and muf∣fling his eies lest he shuld see any alteration in that base ma∣ner, haled him to their tents.

3▪ But as Mer••ine rid aside discoursing with Iacob, the good merchant Iacob perceiued how pittilesly his king was martired with his tormentors: wherefore, as if his eies had wounded his heart, he cried to Meruine, O saue him, saue him: behold, king Mermont taken, dishonored & tormen∣ted. Meruin, as if awaked from a slumber, at such exclaim∣ing, looking about, and seeing him, smote the mare with his spurs, who like a whirlewind carried him against Antifer. He approaching so neare that the sound of his words might be retained, he cried, Mermont my king, feare not thy ill fortune, for in despite of these villaines, I will recarry thée into Montment, at that word he encountred a pagan called Esclardy, nephew to Baucamont, and with such comman∣ding violence, that no stéele durst withstand it, but the head of his lance made a passage both through his hart and body: he dead, Meruine chéered his followers, chiefly Drohes, to whom he said; Absolutely valiant Christian, I challenge thée, make good the couenant betwixt vs, spare neither king nor prince, commander nor follower: then spurred they two in amongst the pagans, in such sort, that as the ripe corne before the shearers, so fell they before them. Then Meruin approching to Mermont, whom a Turk holding, Meruine gaue him a blow that claue him to the girdle. After v••loo∣sing the kings bonds, and giuing him liberty to sée his re∣demption, said vnto him, famous king, and my loues soue∣raigne, my work is but the work of duty, command my life for thy ransome. As Mermont was about to reply and im∣brace him, Meruine stayd him, saying, what I do, I ought

do, hereafter shall write mine allegeance: hold, lace on your helmet, and I will prouide you a horse to mount on.

4 With that he beheld Antifer, who was princely moun∣ted, & came thus to him; Pagan, of necessity you must pre∣sent me your horse for the king my soueraigne: and for a ful point to his speach, he gaue him a blowe crosse the beuer, as he fell downe mortally wounded. Meruine tooke his horse, and theron mounted king Mermont, whose ioy none can speake of▪ but those that haue tasted his affliction. Now began a maruelous battell, wherein all did very well, yet e∣uery one couetous to do more: pleasant and louely it was to behold Drohes, who thinking euery pagan he mette the murderer of Gallien, sent thousands to hell, that had not seen Gallien, but aboue all, Meruine surpassed, who neuer lifted vp his hand, but death followed the falling. At these two Mermont wondred, swearing within himselfe the one was Mahomet, the other Apollo, and that they were come, the one to shew deity, thother to attaine a greater conquest than the death of Pithon. In fine he said, both were his as∣sistants, bicause his quarrell was lawfull. In such sort did Meruine and Drohes behaue themselues, that of 3000 that caried away Mermont, not one escaped, but either slaine or sore wounded. A Sarazen beholding this fight, séeing two thus triumphant o••er so many thousands, smote his horse with his spurs, and came running to Baucamont, crying, King of Damascus retire for euen Mahomet and Iehouah are come to fight against thée, Mermont is recouerd and thy men discomfited, two for two millions are much too mightie, retire then, retire, for saue death thou canst haue no compa∣nion. Night-rauen, quoth Baucamont) care for thine owne soule, I scorne thy prophesies, yet tell me from whom, or from what part are those people arriued. Instantly (said he) you shall sée them ascending from yonder valley, flie, flie, for

death is in their foreheads. Traitor said Baucamont, turn thée and bring me to them. Not for the wealth of the world answerd he againe, for by Iupiter I had rather mountaines should fall vpon me, then the wrath of those inraged people should by aduenture find me: and in this saying, he stroke his horse and•• flew ouer the field, feare giuing him wings and flight bearing him beyond the compasse of eies prospect. No sooner was he gone, but Baucamont perceiued the approach of Meruine. Then mustred he his people together, saying, Neuer till now houered the crowne of Glorie ouer vs, win 〈◊〉〈◊〉, and weare it: for sée, he that commands it, coms vnto vs to present it, and with that he smote Marcheuall, and char∣ged Meruine. Meruine on thother side gaue Mordant the reine to incounter with Baucamont: their carier was like the méeting of two tempests from two seuerall corners of the earth: but Meruine hit Baucamont such a blow, that he fel from his courser to the ground, neither had he euer rai∣sed his head from the earths pillow, had not a band of 4000 come in to his rescue. Betwixt him and them, a singular to an infinit plurall began a fierce, doubtful and vndying com∣bate. Iacob this while the good merchant valiantly behaued himselfe, so also did Croisant and Barbin, whose swordes bare liueries of their Lords wages: yet when I thinke on Meruine and Drohes, the déeds of the others were but as margent notes to their h••ge volums: there might one sée cō∣fusion in her royalty, heads without hands, hands without bodies, legs without féet, thighs like feet moouing: there you might see stones broken with bodies burden, yea burdened bodies by stones broken: all things horrible, yet nothing but honorable: there lay pagan slain on pagan, misbeliefe on vn∣belieuing, while Drohes smiled to sée selfe religion, selfe dis∣cipline and law confound one another, and b••ganne to pride himselfe, that that day his déeds should be eternized. But at this time what Meruin did is impossible to describe, because

they ascended higher than mortall capacity. He incountered Africant, and slue him, so did he thadmirall, whom horse and man he bare down to the ground. What shal I say more? al force was no force, when his force gainestood it, as Hares from drun••s, Lambs from lions. Fawnes from tygers, so flew the pagans before him. What he did, what his power sought to do, was all this while beheld both by Berea and her mother, who stood next her, and from the tickling spirit of her heart, said to her daughter: Faire soule, seest thou not yonder pagan, whose armes are like sunne shine▪ and his deeds better then the sunnes beauty: in his helm he wears two gloues, a swimming swan in a bower of roses: on my soule he is not mortall, for his deeds are celestiall▪ his pro∣wesse is heroicall, and his cariage like the god of warrefare. Berea hea••ing her mothers speaches it seemed the Roses in Meruines headpiece were fled thence to her cheeks; for she prettily blushed, and thought of her loue Meruine, and as she looked downe toward him, her thoughts, the truest he∣ralds of a ••o••ing conceit, told her it was he alone that so gal∣lantly behaued himselfe to the wonder of all men. O how with that imagination loue gaue new fire to his old flame, and surprised her with delicate thinkings: then grew shee dumbe with admiring, sighing because she was dumbe, blu∣shing to heare her selfe sigh, & then grew pale, lest hir dumb∣nes, sighing and blushing, should of other than her own eies be perceiued. After this war of maiden lookes had taken a∣little truce with her intentions, thus to her heart her heart whisperd. Thou God of my forefathers, how excellent hast thou made my loue! death being most fierce, fearing, is be∣come his vassaile, attend him death, but touch him not. As she was imagining more, her mother turned about, and per∣ceiuing her distraught in countenance, challenging the di∣stemperature of lookes, asked what she ailed, and desired no∣thing to be hidden from her. Madame (said she) I felt a tor∣ment

of such vehemencie take hold on me, as no creature can imagine. Mahomet defend my father, for I feare some euil. Thus dissembled she with her mother, Meruine being the loadstarre by which all her lodgings were guided. All this while fell destruction from the sword of Meruine vpon the pagans who like larkes vnder the wings of a hobby, sought holes in the earth to hide them. Drohes pursued his foote∣steppes, and the nearest of any imitated his vertues. Now was Baucamont remounted once more, and passing tho∣row his ranks, gaue them new incoragement, reuiling the new come strangers, and disabling their actions, though his wounds bare bléeding witnes of their worths.

5 When he had done, he charged afresh vpon Mermont, and that with such impregnable violence, as he ouerthrew him horse and man to the ground, but with nimble agilitie, he soone recouered his féete, and drawing his sword, brandi∣shed it for his defence. All that shew of magnanimity had but little auailed to his profit, if Meruin had not againe by chance come to his rescue, who cried aloud, Mermont my king, deferre thy fortune but a moment, and ile yield succor to thy life: and then rushing amongst the thickest, he strake Gyrion on the head, cleauing him to the waste. After him, the next, and the next, sparing none that was within his in∣counter. When Baucamont sawe death and destiny lie in Meruins sword, like a man made desperat, bicause his estate was desperate, he ioyned himselfe to Meruine, striking so violent a blowe, as he claue insunder the crest of his hel∣met, but to his head did no harme but amazement. Meruin displeased at his entertainement, drew Entrant his sword, and without o••her salutation stroke at Baucamont withal his puissance. The pagan king fearing the blow, retired alit∣tle: yet had hee neuer breathed anie more malice, if the sword had not turned in the hand of Meruine, which like a

thunderbolt fell on the arme of Baucamont, and that in such heauy maner, that the armor, shoulder, & all, were cut asun∣der, When Meruine saw him thus spoiled of his defender, in iesting maner he sayd, king Baucamont, it is time now the world excuse you from these martiall occurrents, sith the fit∣test for you is a monasticall function: say hencefoorth for the loue of Mahomet you will abiure your folly, hauing paied to this good king your right arme for a ransome. Thus hauing sayd, he returned to Mermont, & remounted him the second time, but Mermont in whom was ingrafted a strong beliefe, that Mer••ine was Mahomet, with prostrate humblenesse sayd vnto him, great and almighty God of most excellent au∣thoirtie, this day hath thy goodnesse newly created me, and made my life more happy then the liues of my forefathers, hencefoorth be gratious to my proceedings great lord of our religion, and I wil make thy name be rung through all nati∣ous, thy temple I wil multiply, & all thine ornaments shall be of purest siluer. Meruin séeing the blindnesse of his amaze∣ment, raised him from his prostracie, saying, no, but you are deceiued, you are deceiued, I honor him & you: and with that he rusht agayne into the battel. Thus while Drohes and the other behaued themselues valiantly, effecting such feates of knightly chiualrie, that force▪ perforce, they draue to retraite the hoste of Baucamont, many flying, none abiding till the mightie king Esclamart caused all his troupes which came for the succour of Baucamont, being 10000 Sarazens, all fresh and vnfoiled, hauing as yet not striken one blowe, to turne vpon their enemies like a storme begotten by a storme in the moneth of Aprill. When Mermont perceiued them, and considering his people and horses were wearie, vnable to withstand them being fresh, caused a retraite to be sounded, and in honorable s••rt retired into the ci••ie: but when he came to enter, Esclamart and his men, being swift and nimble, had gained the port, had not Meruine & Drohes withstood them,

who marched behind, and Meruine in that last incounter slew the nephew of Esclamart, with many other pagans, and they so well defended themselues, that king Mermont and his host entered into the cittie, & Meruine and Drohes after them, to the confusion and dishonor of Esclamart, who returned sorrowfull for his nephewes slaughter, whom hée caused to bée brought with great solemnitie into his tent, vowing to Mahomet his god, reuenge for his misfortune.

CHAP. XV.

1 Of the honours Mermont did to Meruine. 2 Me••uine made chamberlaine of the Court. 3 Gratiana for his sake made lady of the chamber of Berea with other accidents.

KIng Mermont and all his knights, being entred into Montment▪ were most roially re∣ceiued both of the quéene his wife, and the most beautifull lady Berea his daughter, to whom he said, thou golden planet of mine age, my dearest daughter, I beseech thée honor with all the excel∣lencies thou canst imagine, this admirable creature who sits armed and mounted on this mightie mare, I once imagined him to be our great god Mahomet, so godlike was he in mine vnderstanding, and so impossible it was for the force of man to enterprise what he hath effected. When Iacob came and heard the kings spéeches, pleasantly he replied: My gracious

soueraigne, it is a common saying, that a fooles bolt some∣times as wel hits the marke, as the wise mans arrowe. True said the king, but I pray thée, to what ende doest thou cite this adage: to this my liege lord (answered he) I who am basely vnworthy to counsell kings, yet anciently experienced in warres doubtfulnesse, went in your maiesties name to Brandis, and thence brought this Meruin, the sonne of Bar∣bin, who this day by his most celestiall prowesse hath twise preserued you from death, aud the dangerous hand of your enemies. Now if the actor be worthy his honour, is not the agent for the acte worthy to be rewarded? els let my fortune refuse me, said the king. Iacob I will heape wealth vpon thy wealth▪ and on Meruine I will double a thousand honours of knighthood: for by Mahomet▪ I imagined him to haue bene Mahomet, so farre excelled he all creatures, yea euen Bruhier, and Iustament his valiant brother, who were slaine by that renowned Oger, the scourge of our religion. O Mer∣uine, if Mahomet continue gratious to thy procéedings, our law shall be by thee exalted as much aboue christianitie, as the first moouer is resident aboue the earths center. Woe a∣las, this prohesie was too true, for with the eyes of infants shall be watered with teares, as hereafter shall be declared. Now Mermont looking vpon Drohes, asked Iacob what he was, and Iacob in euery point described him both their méeting, conflict, and conquest, and how he was a christian, whose name was Drohes, adding withall, that if any my∣racle could make him renounce his religion, that then the law of paganisme by him more then by any christian, but Oger, would be raised & admired, but this wisedom is so great that no will can remooue him. Then Mermont asked Iacob from whence, & by what meane Meruin had gotten that band of men which he had brought to the battel. Then Iacob shewed the king Croisant, who then was busie in talke with Mer∣uine, & from point to point declared his fortunes, both how

••a was accused, Meruin ingaged, Brohars flaine, and Croi∣sant restored from his vnbeléeuing: the king hearing all this, his heart danced for ioy, and he solemnly vowd to raise Mer∣uine higher in authoritie, then the conceite of man could a∣spire vnto. Whereupon, calling the gallant yong knight be∣fore him, who came with all the reuerence belonging to so great a maiestie, the king with a dumb, but speaking coun∣tenance amazedly, as if in a maner skared at his beauty, and with his long looking and intimate searching in euery linea∣ment of his proportion, he suddenly apprehended in his me∣mory the diuine features of Oger. Wherefore he sayd, be∣léeue me Meruine, by that Alcheron in which I trust, thou resemblest both in body, figure, and beautie, the famousest of all christians, renoumed Oger the duke of Denmarke, whose fortunes if thou counteruaile, the pennes of all men shall write thée most happy. By this time the day had ex∣changed the coulour of his garment, and put on the nightes vesture, wherefore al the tables being roially apparelled, and supper set on the boorde, water was brought for the king, he sate downe to eate: but because all his studie was to doe honor to Meruine, he commanded him to sit downe before him, after him Drohes, swearing by the faith of a christian, that he would neuer part or obscure himselfe; vnlesse it were by the commandement and ••onsent of Meruine, and for that vowes sake, he was neither restrained nor imprisoned, but suffered to goe and dispose himselfe round about the towne at his own pleasure▪ the roialty and solemnity of that nights seruice, I will leaue to speake of, because tediousnesse inue∣nometh a willing hearer. Supper being ended, and euery ceremonie performed to a kingly magnificence, the king cal∣led Barbin, and spake to him: Barbin, I bind thée by thy fealtie, neither deceiue me in thine answere, nor restraine from the knowledge of that I intend to demand of thée: who, and on whom diddest thou beget this wonder, this Mer∣uine,

trust me he resembleth thée in nothing, neither bée his déeds the fruits of a merchant-like generation? My dread soueraigne (answerd Barbin) I begot him of a noble & renou∣med Sarazen lady, as great in dignity, as the house of Otto∣man, who through her paine in childe-birth, piteously died. After whose decease I tooke the infant & a most delicat lady (the sister of my dead loue) who sware to hir in hir last pangs neuer to depart from him til terme of yeres had brought him to manhood, & transported them with me into these parts: if now your maiestie misdoubt my protestation, I haue the lady at my house, who is both an eie, and an eate-witnes. Let the lady be commanded before vs said the king, which imediate∣ly was done. To herlikewise the king propounded these arti∣cles, with many other egressions as he had done to Barbin, and she in euery point answerd without differing, insomuch that the king beleeued them, so artificall was their cunning.

2 The king demanding her name, she told him it was Gra∣tiana: ••hen said the kin••; fair•• damosel descended of a diuine issue, for loue of Meruin thy nephew▪ whom al loue that haue any splendor in them, how sacred a thing loue, is my pleasure is, that henceforth thou be lady of the chamber of Berea mine only daughter: by thée be she disposed by thée he her 〈◊〉〈◊〉 increased, loue her and liue with her, for thou canst teach 〈◊〉〈◊〉 both excellencie & honour: thus was the fai••••e lady Gratiana borne vp to the cloudes in hono••r for the loue of ••eruine, whom falsely she had stolne, as wa•• before mentioned.

3 When this was done, the king called Meruine and as∣ked him if he found no declining in his memory from that hie staire of vertue, which hitherto he scaled, but that he would perseuer in his beginning, and bear the glory of Mahomet, as far as the sunne was born in his chariot. My earthly god (sayd he) and the next in my loue to Mahomet, my whole de∣sire

is to make famous my religion, and the aime of my con∣tent to proue my force greater than any christians: this I loue, in this I liue and thus shall my life consummate. The king hearing this, was very ioyfull: wherefore embracing him in his armes, he said, Dearer than my kingdome, Mer∣uine my champion, henceforth for thy prowesse, valure, and magnanimity, and for thou didst twice restore me fro death to my former being, I create thée the principal chamberlaine of my court, be thy rule like thy selfe, righteous, and let all o∣bey thée. The thankes which Meruine gaue the king for these honors, were such as made glorious the giuer, yet the receiuer seemed only glorified. Thus in great pomp Mer∣uine continued in the kings house, beloued and feared of all men, except of the traitor Marant, nephew to the king, be∣ing his sisters son, and espoused to Butor that gouernd Mi∣nor, where Meurine was imprisoned fiue yeares, as here∣after you shall heare. This Marrant could by no possible meanes loue Meruine, so hugely had enuy taken possession on his soule, to behold the honor the king his vnkle had done him, wherefore he watched to do him villany, for villanie is euer waking. It hapned one day, Meruine rising earely in the morning euen with the sunne, there came to him a cer∣tain spie, who gaue him intelligence that king Baucamont, with 800 of his approued warriers was intended to hunt the stagge in the great forrest, bordering vpon the citie. As soone as Meruine heard it, he called Drohes, the traitor Ma∣rant, and 500 expert souldiers, and with them priuily issued out of the city, taking an vsuall path, through which he pa∣ced so long, till at length he perceiued where Baucamont with his hoste returned from the chase, his arme as then healed, and he mounted on his steed. Meruin ambushed him selfe and his men within a little groue, whence he intended to charge Baucamont, holding both his lāce redy in his fist, and hauing vnder him his mare Mordant: anone when

Baucamont was approched so neare, that he was hopelesse of retiring, Meruine caused his men to march against him, saying, fellows in armes, think not of fortune, but victorie, for in my selfe there is no other imagination.

CHAP. XVI.

1 How Baucamont and 800 souldiers were discomfited, and himselfe taken prisoner. 2 With him the King Antifer & 24. pagans, all by Meruine. 3 How he de∣liuered them to the traitor Marant, to present to king Merm••nt his vnckle, in Meruins name the conqueror.

WHen Baucamont beheld Meruine, whom he knew by his helmet, bicause in many battels, which I leaue to speake of, he had taken no∣tice of the same, he turning to his traine vsed these speaches: You folowers of me and my fortunes, reuiue your selues▪ and in the name of Mahomet, be now or neuer courageous, battel•• surely we shalbe offered, be fortune as auspicious as please her, for behold an enemie whom my soule hateth, euen he whose single sword did me more hurt then Mermont or his huge hoste could haue ef∣fected by a godlike incoragement, yet is he no other then the base son of a ware-exchanging merchant, whom some diuell hath nursed for a damned execution. At this word he tooke a

tell axe in his hand, & broching Marcheual with his spurres, charged coragiously, Meruin on the other side, as nimble as lightning, ran to intertain him, their running, méeting, & con¦iunctiō, being louder thē thunder, & stronger then a northern tempest, & when in midst of the ass••mbly, they had discharged vpō either other, the wonders of chiualrie, Meruine hauing broken his lance▪ drew Entrant his sword, and therwith as∣sailed Baucamont with such furie, that he threw him from Marcheual his gallant beast to the ground, & that with such incomparable prowesse, that he lay a long time on the ground in a deadly passion. Meruin descending, vnlaced his helmet, and was euen ready to diuide the long coniunction betwixt his head and body, whē Baucamont awaking frō his trance and beholding himself vtterly exiled from the hope of longer liuing with erected hands cried vnto him: thou flower of chi∣ualrie, and the bed-mate to fortune, be as honourable as thou art valiant, & take me to thy presence: then turning his sword in his hand, he deliuerd the hilts to Meruin, who perceiuing it, deliuered him vnto the traitour Marrant saying, Prince Marrant, take king Baucamont to your charge, and guard him safely because I know the king your vnkle wil estéeme this fortune much better then the gift of an empire. Marrant accepted him ioyfully. This while Drohes and the rest were in the midst of their enemies, where the déeds they did were worthy of immortal memorie. Now after Meruine had lef•• his royall prisoner in safe keeping, he flang himselfe into the heart of the battell, like a hunger-starued wolfe amongest a flocke of shéepe, the first he met, he stroke dead to the ground: so did he the second, the third the fourth, and the fifth: why should I bee tedious in description? tenne to their deaths he sent with one breathing. Drohes seeing him doe these excellent feates of knighthood, grew inamored of him, & praised him in his heart next his creator: but God of heauen (said hee) how wonderfull beyond conceit are these actions!

if his thréed of life lengthen like his courage, and some pitti∣ing powder of heauen alter not his vnhappy misbeléeuing al christendome shal quake, and the house of Dauid be forsaken: thus from the anguish of his soule spake the most righteous Drohes, whose valure and feates of armes were boundeoo in no limite, augmenting hourely; the rather to beholde the ex∣amples of Meruine laide before him.

2. All this while was the sonne of religious Oger furroy∣ing through the middest of the army, & had euen now ouer∣thrown•• king Antifer to the ground, whose head had payed his ransome if fearefull, humblenesse had not made him sub∣mit to mercie: him likewise hee gaue to the kéeping of Ma∣rant. Now had Drohes incountred a giant-like pagan▪ with whom he maintained a dreadfull battell, but in the end hée smote him a blowe with such vigour, that he claue his head to his téeth. Which another pagan beholding, ranne at Dro∣hes, and with his launce strake his horse through the heart, that he fell downe dead at the instant. But with great agili∣tie Drohes recouered himselfe, and flourishing his sworde, vowed vengeance for his iniurie. But Meruine séeing the pagan by such dishonour had slaine the horse of Drohes, pre∣uented his intent, and with one blowe stricke the pagans head from his shoulders. As this was in doing, the gallant horse Marcheuall came gallopping masterlesse by them, run∣ning here and there, hauing his reines at his owne randon. When Meruine sawe him, hée thrust his spurres against Mordant, and flew after him, and that with such voilent swiftnesse, that in short time he tooke him, and deliuered him to Drohes, who being mounted thereon, sware by him that with blood washed the world from her transgressions, that if euer Meruines fortunes stoode in néede of his imployment, his life should be wa••ted in his seruice. Then againe Dro∣hes thrust himselfe into the middest of his enemies, of whom

he made infinite destruction, that both pen and wit are too blunt to describe them, and yet were they to bée ioyned with Meruine in no degrée of comparison, no more then the night to the daies glorie, for he neuer lift his sword aloft but he kild either horse or man, or both horse and man together. Let mee not dull your eares with a heauie tale: such excellent feates of armes were performed by Meruine, that of 800. which went with their king on hunting, there were left a∣liue but twentie & fower, which with Baucamout and An∣tifer were likewise taken priso••ers▪ great was the bootie and riches which there was taken, but Meruin refusing to touch it, caused it to be equally diuided among his souldiers. Then commaunding a retraite, and summoning his band together they marched in souldier like manner to Montment. But a∣mongst the rest a Pagan, whose name was Hebie, thrust spurres to his horse, and posted from the troupe with such swiftnes, that he ranne to Montment before the rest a long season: assoone as he was lighted he ascended the pallace, and knéeling before the king he said. My dread soueraigne, more ought you to adore our God Mahomet & greater incense to throw vpon his Altars, then any Monarke whatsoeuer: for Meruine this day by his neuer fayling prowesse, bringeth bound in triumph Baucamont, Antifer, and twentie foure of the most couragious Pagans, taken al prisoners by his on∣ly sword: when the Paragon of al ages (diuine Berea) heard this, if her ioy exceeded her beautie,) and yet than her beau∣tie was nothing more amiable, (let no man wonder nor de∣mand the reason, si••h loue is beyond y^e bond of a larger limit.

3 Now whilest the king and his nobles were increasing their conceites of pleasure with imagination of these aduen∣tures, the Prince Marant, with Baucamont, Antifer & the ••4. Pagans entered into the hall, & knéeling before the king with a stiffe knée, faintly, as vnwilling his tongue should be

guiltie of any vertue, he vttered these spéeches, Faire vnckle and my liege Lord highly may you (if you please) honor Me••∣uine your great chamberlaine, whose renowned prowesse & true valure hath taken these mighteous prisoners, in whose name, and with al humble reuerence, I present them to your Maiestie, assuring you the déedes hée hath this day doone, are more then the wisest hath power to describe, or the stron∣gest force to counteruaile. Then whispring his malice to his owne soule, he said: Meruine, these praises which in giuing I haue giuen mine owne desires the lie, I wil shortly heape vpon thée with an eternall vengeance. Now heauen that sa∣ueth al things saue the renowned Meruine, against whom the thunderbolts of priuate enuie threaten destruction: whē Mermont beheld Baucamont, Antifer and the other priso∣ners, his ioyes excéeded in greatnesse his kingdome, and hée repeated the wrongs their vnlawfull armies had begotten in his countries, threatning a requital for these indignities. But Baucamont regardlesse of all mistrusting fortunes, without any amazement in his countenance, made a petition to Mermont, that all the twentie foure prisoners might be deliuered, onely himselfe and Antifer detained for the satis∣faction: which if it would please him to vouchsafe them, would restore him recompence for all the indmagements, they or their warre had procured, and that their mightie armie as yet not wholly vanquished, shuld returne to Damas. Upon these Articles the king concluded, so the 24. were infranchised and with them also the two imprisoned Ambassadors of Bauca∣mont, to wit Morgant, & Nygron, who as then had béene prisoners the space of a whole yéere, during which time the war had continued. Now when they were returned backe to their tents, they found the king Esclamart mightily per∣plexed with sorrowe for the taking of Baucamont, and Antifer his brother: yet notwithstanding they tolde him the conditions of compromise agreed vppon betweene the

kings of each party, vpon which report hée▪ made procla∣mation for the raising of his tentes▪ and leauing the siege in perfit manner, departed without further trouble to Mer∣mont or his country: and betaking himselfe to the seas, sai∣led so prosperou••ly, that in short time they ariued at Damas∣cus, where they reported to the state their vnhappy occurrēts which had befallen them. Thus will wee leaue them to the sorrowes of forsaken subiects, and returne vnto king Mer∣mont, whose ioy was the greatest of all ioy, to sée himselfe hold in his subiection Baucamont and Antifer, two of the greatest kings of all Asia, whom he had sworne upon Al∣cheron & a kings maiestie, that they should not pretend any flight or escape without his royall will and licence. All this while was Meruin in the court no lesse honored, exalted, and admired of the king, the queene, and the nobles, than of the basest vassall liuing by the graces of his fauour. The reason, because as he was valiant, maiesticall, and inuincible: so was he sweete, courteous, affable and pleasant in the eyes of all creatures. Yet Marrant, in whose heart enuy had built her a blacke sepulchre, increast his malice, and hated him the more, because no man else hated him. Thus being great with child of damnable imaginations, he grew thought-full and sicke, how hee should be deliuered: anone hee bethought himselfe there was no so ready meane to heape ruine on the rich daies of Merui••es prospe••itie, as to come to the true vnderstan∣ding of the loue betweene him and Berea, wherefore to that marke hee aymed all his thoughts, but yet his leauell carried him farre away, and his labour in that point was vt∣terly frustrate, as you shall heare in the next Chapter

CHAP. XVII.

Of the priuate discourse betweene Marant and Be••ea, and of her answere. 2. How she came to the vnder∣standing of Marants enuie to Meruine. 3. The treason he intended, which he had procured Calix his Cosin to exec••te.

IT happened on a day that Marant espied the princesse Berea, set all alone in her chamber without other comfort then her owne cogita∣tions, wherefore drawing néere vnto her, and saluting her with an humble dissembled reue∣rence he said: my most excellent cosin, and the ornament of your sex, excuse me to speake boldly what loue and nature carefully stirr••s in me; I find no profit, in more liberall sorte abound to this nation then the happy counion of you in a lawfull ••arriage, which if the king mine vnckle neglect, he robbeth both his yeeres and this kingdome of their greatest felicitie. And in mine opinion (if the loue of vertue leade me not into a blindfold path of forgetfulnes) there is not any whose excellencies better meriteth, who••e wisedome can reach to higher desert of gouernment, nor whose v••lure af∣ter the decease of my most gracio••s vnckle, coulde better defend this Realme from disquiet, than incomparable Mer∣uine, the glorie of mankind, and the loa••starre to all ho∣nourable actions: now tell mee my dearest diuine cos••n▪ can you not loue his person, whose inward goodnesse flies be∣yond

common admiration. Berea whose naturall wisedome had taught her a politicke dissembling, answere: Cosine, wert thou not in iest, I should be angrie in earnest, or if thou bée••t in earnest I must néeds iest at thy extreame folly: fie, that thy tongue is so loose to deliuer words without thoghts: counsell of better aduisement: Belieue me thine error is inex∣cusable, and thy punishment worthy no ending: alas, imagi∣nest thou me, bicause a woman, therefore a foole, or that I am so infinitly poore of vnderstanding as to build the hope of my life, I meane mine affection vpon Meruine, which is but the bastard son of a silie Marchant? Belieue me, belieue me, rather would I be torne in péeces: neither is my loue aug∣mented to you for this perswasion, but rather abated for pro∣phecying my dishonour. Thus with an angrie countenance spake she to the traitour, who many daies before had watcht to behold their proceeding. But so wise were they in the course of their affections, that not any creature, more then Iacob, and Gratiana: no, scarce Cupid himselfe knew of their selfe likings, yet all their loue was honourable, chaste, and holy, without touch of an vnlawful imagination, onely kisses the harts heralds, and imbracings, the knots of sacred affecti∣ons, with which they consumed two yeres in vnspeakeable contentment. When Marant beheld with what affia••nce she had deliuerd him her answer, he imagined she spake from her heart, as indéede she did, for such thoughts neuer lodged in that habitation: wherefore he replied. By Mahomet (swéete Princesse) thou hast answered excellently to my mo∣tion, and in nothing art more wise, than in not louing Mer∣uine. Alas, what is he but a boy, whose descent not any knoweth, saue that one saith he is the bastard of Barbin the poore marchant: as for his honour, I thinke all the deuilles in hell haue conspired to make him famous: but if I liue, I will bring to an end all his glorie. Berea hearing this, was stricken dumbe, and had not power to answere a word.

2 Then the Traitour taking his leaue, departed: but she into whose breast Sorrow was ••••owne to make sweete his lamentation, stayed, and with beteared eyes cried out in this manner: Alas, alas (said she) now may I well say that Mer∣uine my loue, he that in all loues alonely is gratious, he in whom my loue liueth, liueth to liue vnhappy: ay me •• now goe my ioyes on their last date: and Meruine must die by vndying treason. Forsaken that I am, what shall I doe? I know not. Help me memorie: O thou w••lt helpe me, but to record whose horror? If I discouer what I conceiue, I am guiltie of my kinsmans tragedie, for that nothing but his life can make Meruine satisfaction. If I hide what I haue heard, Meruine my Lord shall be my Lord no longer: woe alas: misery in my minde hath made a perpetuall dwelling. If Marant die, Berea is dishonoured: if Meruine die, Berea is forsaken. Liue Marant, so Meruine liue, and die Berea to saue them both from misfortune. Thus argued the virgin, whose heart by this occasion was helde with a thousand sor∣rowes: and in the middest of the agonies, Meruin entred in∣to the chamber, who beholding her in that confl••ct of passion, grew wonderously amazed, and demaunded both a reason for her sighes and the cause of that infinite torment, vowing by all the zeale of his vnspotted loue, that if any creature, of what estate soeuer, had eyther in déede or word giuen occa∣sion to those teares, that he would die or wonderfully re∣uenge it.

When Berea heard him, shee was at her witts end••, what aunswere to reply vnto him: yet on the sodaine shee apprehended this fiction, and thus excused them: My most deere loue (said she) mistake not my woe, which is no o∣ther but an entire desire to enioy thy company, which I am afraide will too soone vanish from my happinesse. sith one told me, not long since, thou wert determined to depart

from my fathers Court to séeke aduentures in strange coun∣tries: this is the reason of my teares and cause of my mour∣ning, no other thing at all afflicteth me, thee and thy losse is my whole lamentation. Deare Lady mistresse of my life (an∣swered hee) falsely they lie that haue so falsely blazed my thoughts into thy bosome, by Mahomet in whom I affie, my loue shall neuer be dislodgd from the sacred tents of thy Ce∣lestiall eyes, till an eternall night ouershadow the Element, and then imbracing her in his armes, with a world of inume∣rable kisses, he sealed the déedes of his perpetuall possession. My deare loue, said Berea, I beséech thée (not for knowledge, but for suspition sake) that thou haue alwaies a regardfull respect to the déedes of my cosin, prince Marant, for hée is false and full of insupportable pride, & withall, the sonne of a mightie King, euen Butor of Minor, that is so strong & im∣pregnable. Madam (replied he) all that is nothing in my esti∣mation: and by this right hand of yours▪ in whose Spheare my hart is contained, & Alcheron so worthy as shall neuer be prophaned, if your cosin Marant doe me the least touch of honour may be imagined, his life shall make good mine in∣dignitie, neither will I desist for his parentage, sith the migh∣tines of the man makes the art of dishonor almightie, when receiued. Thus spake valiant Meruine, but Marant stil not∣withstanding continued, both in thanking & contriuing how to bring a domes day on his praises so manfully atchi••ed.

3 It hapned on a day that king Mermont for his recreati∣on intended to ride a hunting, & took Baucamont & Antifer with him: which whē the traitor Marant vnderstood, he was excéeding glad, and instantly assembled a band of traytours together, to the number of 500. all nobly borne and ••f his owne linage, to whom he made this short preamble: Lords & Princes, you are royally descended from the same stemme of which my selfe am issued: in you then either doth or should re∣maine

a liueall thréed of amitie to support mine honour, and reuenge me of my protested enemies. Cosin answered one, whose name was Calix, tis true, therefore without ceremo∣nie, where loue and nature bindeth allegeance, display thy griefes, and be it right or wrong, we are thexecuti••ners of thy vengeance. Calix (quoth Marrant) thy loue is flowen into my bosome, and there shall find an immortall residence: the thing whereof I complaine, is of that honor-deuouring Meruine, whose pride if it take roote, and his life flourish, the king will giue account to no man, but him, for happines: but if my wits faile me not▪ that as yet neuer quailed in like stra••agems, this day will I bring his praises to a full point, and in••ombe his body in a graue of destruction. And thus it is, the king my vnkle intends this day to hunt in the forest, it is néedfull then that you lie in an ambush in some priuate bordering groue, vntill such time as you shall sée Meruine passe along by you: for which purpose there shalbe an espial to giue notice of his passage: then when you haue him with∣in your power, he being naked, & you armed, shall dismount him from his loftie mare, and with cordes bind him to the body of some oake, growing in some desart & ••orlorne place, to whose abiding traceth the footestepps of no humane crea∣ture, and so leauing him without more torment, because by that meanes, if you shall be examined vpon any point of his misfortune, you may iustly swear you were no agents of his death or fu••erall. And I doubt not but in a moments space, the wild beasts of the forrest, which so abound in this regi∣on, will soone be the actors of this wished tragedie. This is the reuenge I haue inuented, and the meane I would pur∣sue for his affliction. Cosin, said Calix) you haue spoken ex∣cellently, and by my life all shalbe performed. ss you haue deuised. Upon this traitors conclusion, they shakt hands and departed, he to the king, and the band of 500 to the woods, where they ambusht themselues in a couert, through whose

thicknes, as yet the sunne had neuer pieped. Now earely in the morning before Meruin went tattend the king on hun∣ting, he went to the chamber of lady Berea, who that night dreamt a fearefull and strange dreame, which had not onely put her sences in amazement, but drowned her heart in a deluge of extreame sorrow, yet when she beheld Meruine like a flame, she threw her selfe about his necke, heaping vp∣on infinit kisses infinit redoublings▪ said: Ah Meruine my loue my deare loue Meruine, for thee my soule breaks, and for thée my heart dieth. This night I dreamed a dismall dreame the solution whereof belongeth, I feare to thy for∣tunes. Me thought I had a most delicate and princely grey hound, so swift, so nimble, so deliuer, that it was impossible for Nature to conceiue how to forme such an other. This greyhound me thought, went into a chamber, where were many serpents, who with in••enomed malice so inclosed and assailed him on euery side, that it was impossible for him any more to returne to my company: the griefe for his wāt made teares burst from mine eyes, and those teares inuited fadder lamentations, that striuing to make knowen my languor, I awakned with my sorrow: what this pretends, I know not, only I beséech thée for the honor of Mahomet, that aboue all men thou beware of mine vnkind cosin Ma∣rant, for he is traiterous, and treachery hateth alwaies the vertuous. Is it possible qd Meruine, that in Marants faire countenance should lodge such distemperate malice? Ha my one onely excellent loue (said she) trust him not, lookes are liers, and his chéeks are a table of falshood. Madame replied he, I trust none but my sword, and that in extreames shalbe mine onely redéemer: what shall be shalbe, onely deare la∣dy, I beseech you commaund some carefull attendance to be giuen to my neuer-failing friend Drohes, who is fallen ex∣ceedingly sicke of a feuer, for his like inconstancie and man∣hood, is not to be found among liuing creatures. To this she

gaue him assurance with many protestations, and so after diuers kisses and imbraces, they departed either frō other. But when Berea was alone, her sorrowes gaue a new on∣set on her soule, and put all her hopes to slaughter, and that not without good cause: for before her eies again shall giue salutation to his forhead, his life and honor shalbe both in∣dangerd, if God himselfe, and the virgin mother of the grea∣test moouer, with a gratious eie pity not his huge misfor∣tune. Mermont with Baucamont, Antifer, Meruin, Ma∣rant and other noble gallants, departed from Montment, and came to the forest, where they had kingly pastime, and killed many wild beasts, continuing their sports iij. dayes without thought of returning: all which space, an espiall of Marrants attended foot, by foot vpon Meruine. The fourth day approaching, Mermont prepared to go home againe to the city, which he did, but Meruin staid behind: the reason was, he had that morning found out a daintie spotted yong goate, whose colour and beauty so well pleased him, that he sware he would haue it to bestow on his ladie Berea: but no sooner offred he to assaile it, but it fled, and with all spéed pursued it, euen till in the maine chase, he had vtterly l••st sight of it, which not alitle grieued him, but when wisedom told him there was no auaile in anger, he sought te return, but the greedines of his sport had expelled the knowledge of his way from his memorie, and w••s he knew not where. The spie whose eies neuer forsooke him▪ perceiuing his ig∣norance, thwarting through strange paths, placed himselfe in a way through which Meruin of force must passe. When Meruine saw the spie, he was more than well pleased and demaunded of him: which way king Mermont his Lord rode: Sir said the spie, if it please you to follow me, I will conduct you: so the spie led the way, and Meruine folowed him, whose hart was thoughtles of any treason. After they had traueled long in a nightconcealing corner, Meruin said,

friend, I feare me we are both out of our way. O sir, (repli∣ed he) feare not, I will bring you to the king my master pre∣lently. And as he was thus saying, they were arriued in the place where the traitors were ambushed: and as soone as Calix beheld him, hee, and with him fortie lanciers charged Meruin behinde him, not speaking any word, and that with such violence, that ere he dreamed of disaduantage, they had throwen him to the ground from his mare foreward: but like the flower of all knightly chiualrie in a trice he remoun∣ted himselfe vpon his féete, and drawing Entrant his sword, flew vpon the spie, and gaue him such a blow that he cleaue his head & chaps in two pieces, saying: Uillaine thou which hast led me to my death, in death shalt be my first companion. But scarce were his words ended, before he was assailed on euery side, with all fiue hundred: but he defended himselfe more like a god then a mortall man: and questionlesse, had he bene armed, as he was naked, twise so many as they, had not taken him prisoner, for before he remoued his right foote, he had laine an hundred dead before him. But now faint heat ingendering within the torment of his incessant labour, dis∣tilled such a weakenesse through his all too extreme trauelled members, that his handes began to wéepe in sweatie drops, that they had power to weld his sword no longer, and his bodie faultered, as most willing to die, sith it had least strength to relieue his master: when they perceiued this, all at once they cast themselues vpon him, and like a tempest a∣gainst a princely forsaken building, ouerturned him to the earth: then, as if too few, they all lay vpon him, some taking from him his sword, some blinding his eyes, and some bind∣ing his handes behind him: this done. violently they dragd him to a forsaken pine, whose mansion was so horrible, that no liuing eye till then, had seene where he was planted. A∣gainst it they bound him, and so leauing him, returned to Montment. When Meruine beheld his pitilesse estate, he

said; Ha diuine prophetesse of the world, faire Berea, excel∣lently didst thou foretell my danger, and the hatred of kin∣red, but my deafe resolution would neuer, till too late, beléeue my, misfortune Thus said Meruine, and in thus saying, sighed out such heart-killing lamentations, that if the most barbarous vplandish pesant, had but heard his meanes, he would not onely haue melted, but haue beene partner of his afflictions•• All night continued Meruine in this wofulnes, who in a moment had bin deuoured of sauage beasts, if som heauenly power had not inspired his galant mare Mordant with a man-like vnderstanding, who defended and preser∣ued him from a thousand deadly daugers. Mermont who was returned to his court in Montment, and vnderstand∣ing Meruine was absent, grew excéedingly sorie: but the traiterous Marrant tolde him, he was ridden alittle out of the way to visite a gentlewoman, who dwelt neare vnto the forrest, and that no other occasion withheld him. Which report, although it satisfied the king at that present, yet ••ot∣withstanding, it was nothing sufficient to quiet Berea, who incessantly inquired for her Meruine, and that not without aboundance of teares, and intollerable sorrow, which when her heart, too publike a tell-tale of her loue could with no more patience conceale, she went into the chamber▪ there to publish the mountaine of her cares, which else would wound her body by her hearts breaking, and thus she be∣ganne: Thou patron of our countrey, thou great God Ma∣homet, con••entedst thou alas, so soone to diuorce me from that most diuine creature, in the temple of whose eies, my heart and thoughts are inshrined? Ha, speake, speake thou immortall prophet: and at that word she wrong her li••lie fingers, and tare her haire, her haire more fine than the gol∣den thréed of Diana: and as she was in this lunatike trance of complaining, the Fairie Gratiana entred into her cham∣ber, who séeing her perplexitie, grew more than her selfe a∣mazed

saying: Madame, what wonders wrought griefe in your countenance? trust me, they did him wrong that lod∣ged him in so rare a receptacle of beauty. Ha, peace, peace, said Berea, my moanes are worthy no measure, and then she declared how Meruine her Lord and loue was not re∣turned from the forest, and that not any could tell newes of his absence, and then she began afresh to wéepe, as if these winter cloudes of sorrow had but then ouercast her faces e∣lement: but Gratiana with not to be refelled arguments, lent such comfort to her comfortlesse imaginations, that she deferred, though took not away the worst of her extremity, and with a dissembling countenance of contentment. Be∣rea went into the hall to supper, for the king her father was then set at the table, about the middest of supper, Calix and diuers others of his traiterous consorts, entred into the hall, whom as soone as Berea saw, she said in her selfe, this is the cosin of Marrant, and in his lookes are written tyranny and treason. O my heart presageth that some notable villany by them is wrought against my louing Lord thrise singular Meruine.

CHAP. XVIII.

1 How Berea hiding her selfe, came to vnderstand the treason. 2 Her reuealing it to Drohes. 3 Drohes cha∣lengeth Calix before the king, and pawneth his gage.

B••reas thoughts were the true augures of hir loues mischances, which so vehemently vex∣••d her, that she sware by Mahomet, her eies ••hould neuer close in rest, till she knew the trueth of her presages: whereof priuately vnseene of any, she went into a secret cham∣ber, whither Marrant when he had any priuate occurrents ••o discourse of, vsually repa••red: and vnder a cupboord ouer the which hung a rich 〈◊〉〈◊〉 carpet, she closely conueied her selfe: but no sooner was she inclosed in that forgetfull cell, but Marrant and Calix entr••d, and Marrant leaping vpon the cupboord, there sate to vnderstand all the misfortunes of Meruine, which Calix described altogether, as fearefully as it was done ••uthlesly, and how before he could be taken, an hundred were slaine. My deare cosin (said Marrant) well haue you performed my wish, no more shal that boyes great pride pester the courts of princes, and for your exploit assure your selfe it is more full of honors▪ than midnight of stars. After this was said, Marrant and Calix went to their bed∣chambers, and the heart-consuming carefull Berea rose from her blacke lodging, déeply vowing that this damnable pra∣ctise should be declared to the king hir father, and so she went

vnto her owne chamber, where the Fairy Gratiana atten∣ded her comming, and when the Fairy beheld her, she said; Madame, your lookes are gastly and dispairefull, how fareth your Ladieship? or where haue you bin? At that demaund Berea with a sad countenance reported from point to point all the treason committed against hor Meruine, and with such féeling protestations, that all her amazement flew to Grariana, and she looked with a greater terrour. At length gathering her sences together, she said, It behoueth vs ma∣dame to be wise how we manage this mischieuous action. By heauen, said Berea, I will tell it to the king my father. Not for a kingdom quoth Gratiana, for so may you draw your selfe in danger.

2 Rather let vs accuse false Calix, and lay the treason on his shoulders, but because we will not be vncircumspect; let vs go to the vertuous Drohes & take his counsell, to which they agréed, and so came into the chamber of Drohes, who had lien long sick of a burning feuer, whom when he beheld he knightly saluted, and demanded what occasion they had, that so late an houre brought them from their rest. Berea without circumstance, in plaine, but pittifull speaches, de∣nounced vnto him both the reason and the treason: which when he heard, his manly heart was mad at the misaduen∣ture, for Meruine was as deare to him as his soules safety. Yet with a staid countenance he said: Lady, banish al feare: for to morrow I will not faile, but before the king I wil call Calix to account for the treason and euen so God deliuer me from my extreame malady, as I will without dissimulati∣on shew the true loue I beare vnto the princely Meruine. Thanks good Drohes, said Berea, and so departed to hir bed, but no rest could draw the motions of her sunny eies, but al night she wept and lamented for the losss of hir only beloued Meruine. As soone as the morning had thrust his forehead

ouer the mo••••taines, Drohes in whom could slumber no forget fulnesse, arose with a l••on-like resolution, to combat against Calix, and make him confesse his treason: but alas he had lien vij. wéeks sick of a fierie ague, & through want of food, was now weak and feeb••e: now God be his guide, for his attempt is dangerous. When Drohes was ready, he went into the great h••ll, where he found K. M••rmont, Iacob the Marchant, and Barbin: inco••inently when Drohes saw the king, he said: King of Montment, iustly maiest thou be accounted vnwise, and traiterous to thine owne maiestie, when thou sufferest the death of the most wise and valiantest creature of the world, who had done thée so great honour and pro••ite, as to the like may no∣thing be compa••ed, whose sword twise in one day hath ran∣somed thee from thine enemies, and whose prowesse hath deiluered captiue to thee, the kings of the greatest nations. Alas, how little right or lawe is backe repaied him, when he is traiterously murdered? It is Meruine of whom I speake, he in whom valure is proude to haue an habtiati∣on, he that took Baucamont and Antifer, who yet are thy prisoners. Wh••n Mermont beheld with what a setled and displeased count••nance of discontentment Drohes spake, he said; I pray thée desist thy speach, for there is neither king nor prince vnder the cope of heauen, who shall wrong the gentle Meruine, but ile die or worke a mighty reuenge∣ment. Yea said Drohes, these speaches are of royall value, know then he is in your house that hath murdred Meruin in the forest where yesterday you hunted: name him (said the king:) tis Calix said Drohes. At that word the King changed his colour, and calling before him a Sergeant at armes, commaunding him to take a band of souldiers with him, and fetch Calix before him, which immediately was done, the rumor whereof astonished Marant, who went after to behold the occurrents.

3 No sooner approched Calix before the king, but Dro∣hes said: Traitor thou, euen thy false selfe, who hast mur∣dred renowned Meruine in the woords, which if thou deni∣est, my sword shall make thée confesse with repentance, be∣fore this day be fully vanisht: in signe whereof there is my gage, which I pawne to prooue all my assertion truer than thy religion▪ When Calix heard him, he beganne to waxe pale, bowing his head to his breast, without speaking any word: which the king perceiuing he said: false traitor, why takest thou not the gage which he offereth? by the saith I beare vnto Mahomet, if thou be guilty, all the golde in the world shall not ransome thée from a shameful death. I re∣fuse it not qd Calix, and then lifting aloft his head, took vp his gage. Marant séeing what had passed, aduising himselfe said to the king: Now your maiesty must assigne vs a day of combate, to the end we may assemble our friends and kinred together, to behold the combate, and my selfe will be pledge for the fealtie of Calix my kinsman. By Mahomet saith the king, I vnderstand not your intention, but as I am king of this region, I will not eate, till I sée an end of this dissention. Then forthwith was Calix commaunded to be armed, and Iacob carried Drohes to the chamber of Berea, who gaue him the most excellentest wines, and ra∣rest conserues, that time or experience had found out, of all which he tasted with good appetite, making himselfe strong and lusty. Then was he armed in euery péece according to his owne liking, and when he was readily prepared, he mounted on his horse Marcheuall, which sometimes was belonging to the famous duke Oger, then taking a launce in his hand, trotted in stately maner into the great court, ioyning on the castle of Turgon, which the king had then caused to be prepared for that dreadfull battell, a world of gallant cheualiers attended Drohes into the lists. And a short space after Marant brought Calix, whom he ernestly

besought, that if he were discomfited, yet that he would not accuse him, and he would quickely procure his peace with the king. Calix agréed, giuing his faith thereunto, and en∣tred the field where Drohes attended him, whose bodi••, though sickenes had made weake, yet his courage as in∣uincible, was most mighty, albeit he knew Calix to be re∣nowmed for faith of chi••alrie. When both the combatants were in a readines, the king said, Champions stand forth, for I will that the occasion of this battell be published vnto euery one, say therfore Drohes of what thou accusest him. I say qd Drohes, and what I say, this sword and arme shal witnes to be true, that this traitor Calik here present, hath murdred Meruine in the forest, where your highnes yesterday hunted, as I will proue vpon his body before it be night. It is a false he said Calix, I neuer had thought of so monstrous treason, in signe whereof, I defie thee, and craue no other redéemer than this hand and the combat. This said, retiring themselues, the trumpets sounded, and they putting spurs to their horses, charged ech other. Calix valiantly assailed Drohes, breaking his launce into manie shiuers, but Drohes answerd him with so strong a counter∣buffe, that he threw him to the ground backeward: but in a moment be rose againe, and drawing his sword, saide to him▪ Traitor, if thou dismountest not thy selfe, I will kill thy horse: at that word Drohes alighted, & with his sword charged Calix so mightily, that had not his weapon turnd, it had bin the first & last of the battel: yet for all this ill hap, it fell with so huge a power▪ as hewing away his pouldrons & laces, it pierced his flesh so far, as the traitor shrunke. Then said Drohes, villaine, ere thou and I depart, I will make thée dance before the K. a Morisco galliard. Calix, as much ashamed at the contempt, as grieued with the blow, rushed vpon Drohes, and strucke him with so manly a puissance, as thearth and flowers thereon trembled, and withall, the

sword glauncing downe, cutte away one of Drohes spurs, and alittle of the flesh with it, insomuch, that he wanted li∣tle of falling ouer and ouer: and let no man thinke it anie dishonour, considering his weaknes, and the long liuing paine of his sicknes. Then Drohes lifting his heart to hea∣uen, said; Swéet Iesus, thou diuine sauiour of the world, look downe from heauen vpon me, and lend strength to my weake arme to vanquish this miscreant, sith all the end of my act is to exalt thy diuine Godhead. As he was thus speaking, Calix strucke him againe with such mercilesse vi∣gor, as he turned about and staggerd iij. times in amaze∣ment. Then said Calix (whose pride lifted him higher then his fortune:) by the allegeance I owe to our great prophet, if thou doest not immediately confesse before the king, that thou hast accused me falsely of this treason, ere the sunn•• descend from the heauens. I will diuorce thy head from thy shoulders. U••ilaine (qd he) I estéem thée not a pin, then mounting his sword, he smote Calix on the helmet▪ that he fell to the ground: yet instantly he rose vp againe, but by the glauncing of the blade, was cut from his right thigh a piece of flesh enough to haue gorged a cast of Falcons for a whole day. Calix made mad with this ill misfortune, gras∣ping his sword in both his hands came right against Dro∣hes, meaning with that blow to make an end of the com∣bate: but Drohes turning himselfe sodainely, for the sword came as thunder or lightning, wisely slipt aside, & the sword vnstaied by any interception, droue into the ground more than a foot and a halfe, and that with such vnusuall vio∣lence, that by no power he had, could it be drawne backe a∣gaine. Drohes sé••ing this leapt before Calix, and strucke him in such maner, that he cut off the arme which then was contending with the sword for mastery: the anguish wher∣of made him fall to the earth. But Drohes striking, in his falling, cut one of his legges off also: the ••orment whereof

made him cry that the whole assembly heard him. When the traiterous Marant saw Calix thus vanquished, in a moment he mounted himselfe on horseback, and neuer gaue ouer flying, till he came into the strong city of Minor that was gouerned by king Butor his father, Drohes now séeing there was no power left in Calix to defend himselfe any longer, said, Traitor, this mischiefe hath thy sinne hea∣ped vpon thée, know then I wil kil thee in the sight of this assembly, if thou confessest not thy treason, and the murder of Meruine. Now by Mahomet said Calix, my thoughts are guiltlesse of his euill: at that word Drohes cut off his other arme. Then said Calix, ha excellent knight Drohes, be no more my tormenter, but call the king, and to him I will report all things touching Meruine. Then came the king, and with him many barons to heare his confession, to whom he told all their committed treason: the first com∣plotting▪ the continuing, and executing: lastly, how, and in what maner they left him, & the place where his sword was hidden. Then to the king he said, My liege, lay hands on your kinseman Marrant, for it was he alone wrought vs all the mischiefe, for which now my heart is inwardly sory. When the king had heard all he could say, he caused him to be dragged by the strength of horses into the field, where he was hanged according vnto the custome of traitors in those countries. And thus will we leaue to speake of him, and returne to our former matter. ¶

CHAP, XIX.

1 How king Mermont went to the forest to find Mer∣uin. 2 The occasion & maner of his finding. 3 How he brought him to Montment, & other aduentures.

AFter the death of the notable traitor Calix, Drohes was carried into the chamber of Be∣rea, where he disarmed himselfe: then cal∣ling for the skilfullest of the kings surgeons, he had his wounds bound vp & drest, which with carefull regard, were ••péedily healed. Now Mermont who was piteously perplexed for the losse of Meruine, com∣manded Iacob, Barbin, and diuers of his chiefest nobilitie, to mount themselues on horsebacke, for he would instant∣ly to the forest in quest of Meruine, to which they all ac∣corded, and being come to the woods, they ranged a long time, but could not find the fatall place of his abiding.

2 But at last Mordant the courageous mare, neighed so lowd, and with such an vnusuall shrilnes, as the K. hear∣ing her, said: without doubt I heare the cry of Meruines mare in these parts: let vs ride towards her with all spéed, which doing, they found the mare in the midst of the high way, but Meruine by no means could their eyes recouer. Then halowed the king alowd, saying: Ha, my dearest and best friend Meruine, where art thou? I pray thée speake, if thou be neare me, conceale not thy selfe from him, who so lo∣ueth thée. When Meruine heard the king, whose voice he knew by the resounding, hee turned his head with great

paine, and said: Come hither my lord to this vnhappy trée, and behold how I am tormented. Then went the king to him, whose eies ranne ouer with pitie, neither was there a∣ny flinty heart so obdurate, which would not haue relen∣ted to sée Meruine so neare the doore of miserie: for he was bound with such straitnesse, that his nose gusht out of blood abundantly, and his necke, his armes and legs were swolne and coloured like a man in leprosie. The vertuous King Mermont quickly cut his bands in sunder, and Iacob and Barbin held him vp, for his legs were not able to sustaine him: whereat Barbin wept grieuously. But Meruin re∣compenced him, saying: Father appease your sorrow, for al∣beit my body be thus tormented, yet my mind is so frée frō bondage, that at this instant I could incounter with xx. knights well armed, could I find Entrant my good sword, which vnmanly the traitors tooke from me. Meruine, saide the king, thou shalt soone haue thy sword, and then went to the place where Calix had assignd him, and brought Mer∣uine his sword again. My gratious liege said Meruin, how knew your highnes where my sword was hidden? Then reported the king vnto him all the circumstances of Drohes chalenge and victory against Calix. To what purpose shall I double my discourse? the king forgate not any point of the story, Meruine was well contented with the historie, and loued Drohes, if possible, more than he did before.

3 Then being mounted on his mare, be returned with them in gallant maner to Montment, where all the burgesses and rulers of the towne ran foorth to méete him, for Meruin was estéemed the patron of peace, and highly loued amongst them: then was he brought to the pallace where he was most roial∣ly receiued of the quéene, and more then may bespoken, of the beautifull Berea, whose ioy to see him aliue, like the highest heauen, had no circomference: yet durst she not proclaime i••

but oft sighed, that vnder clouds she was compelled to con∣taine it. Which when he perceiued, he smild, & loued▪ for she was wonderous faire, and withall most wise and prudent. Of her Meruine begat Orient, who was father of the se∣uen signes, of which one had ••o name Elias, who begat Y∣daim, from whom issued G••df••ey of Bullen, which con∣quered Ierusalem, as it is written in the famous historie of the same Godfrey. Meruine at that instant was of all men most ioyfully receiued▪ and the king commanded his phisiti∣ons & surgeons carefully to attend, who in one moneth, tho∣row their art & diligence, deliuered him safely recouered: for which the king being glad, both praised & rewarded them. After Meruine was healed, make no question but he ouer∣slipt no time or occasion to visit his hearts goddesse Berea, who to either other read al the legends of their misfortuns, he making her, she him, a cabinet where they stord vp their chiefest treasures: after they deuised of their loues, whose last hope and conclusion, was, chastely to espouse one an o∣ther, which before they could bring to passe, they passed tho∣row many worlds of greater troubles: for Meruine after he was returned to be a Christian, he was fiue yéeres de∣tained in Minor prisoner, during which season Berea indu∣red infinite mischances, being twice enforced for her lifes safetie to renounce the redéemer Christ Iesus: yet not by any meanes would she adore Mahomet, but what shée did, was womans weaknes, and her lifes loue: for always the true God of heauen was mighty in her memorie, as shalbe declared hereafter in this history. And thus will we a while leaue to speake of them, and intreate of an o∣ther occurrent. ¶

CHAP. XX.

1 Of Pimons embassage from Esclamart to Baucamont, touching the 4. sonnes of Gualtier of Denmarke, 2 and how the peace was concluded betweene Mermont and Baucamont.

SOone after Meruine was recouered of his late misfortune, as Mermont was sitting at the table with Baucamont, and Antifer, Pi∣mon the embassador of Baucamont entered into the hall, and after humble reuerences performed, knéeling vpon his knées, thus saluted the kings: That Mahomet which gouerneth the vni••erse, saue and defend the puissant king Baucamont, my lord and so••e∣raigne, the good king Mermont, and Esclamart, that hither hath sent me. Know then you mightie kings of the most mightiest nations, that king Esclamart desires you, & in the name of Mahomet, commands you to knit an eternal peace betwéen you, both for the profit of our religion, & the main∣tenance of al your kingdoms: which if obstinatly you refuse, all your dominions are in hazard, and Baucamont my soue∣raigne shal assuredly loose Damascus: for the false christians, who séeke to confound our great prophet, are entred into his confines with sword and fire, consuming his territories, not spacing infants, or taking any paganto mercy, that willingly without compulsion falleth not downe, and adoreth their God the God of heauen, as your maiestie shall more plainly behold, by the contents of this letter which king Esclamart by me hath sent you, then kissing the letter, he deliuered it Baucamont, which contained this that ensueth.

❧ To the king of Damascus, health.

THrise hie and mightie king of Damascus, my soueraigne vnkle: sithence these three yeeres that your sacred maie∣stie hath vnhappily bene de∣tained prisoner, I haue not budgde my foote, nor remo∣ued from this citie, which I haue gouerned and ruled in most peacceable quiet, vntill the end of this last moneth, at what time the hare-braind sonnes of Gualtier of Denmarke, inua∣ded thy dominions, the names whereof ensueth: The eldest as it is reported to mee, is named Guion: the second Bertran, whose valure not any creature is able to resist: the third, Thyerry, and the foureh, Florion, all exiles, and banished their countreys: wherefore I intreate your excellencie, finde some meane to giue an end to your trouble, and come home to defend your owne nation and if possible, bring some aide, for your foes are mightie.

From Damas, Esclamart

When Baucamont had read this letter, he sayd to Mer∣mont: behold, king of Montmēt, if this newes be not a rea••y meane to thy fauour, assure thée it is a hie tract to my vtter desolation: for sith these foure brethren are entered into my countrey, I know them so redoubted in armes, that nothing is able to withstand them. By these foure brethren in one yéere, was the most famous Gratiana, and fiue other kings, before renowmed for chiualrie, vtterly discomfited. Besides, Brandis hath written to me in inclosed letters, that they are the most renounmed conquerors this day vnder the firma∣ment. These things considered, I beséech your highnesse let vs conclude vpon agréement, and leaue the hostilitie we haue maintained one against another: the beginning whereof is my griefe, and the ending that I aske thy mercy.

2 Baucamont, sayd Mermont, more to defend the law of our religion, then for any other zeale I haue to thy kindnes, I fréely pardon thée the forfeit of thy life and kingdome, and withall promise thee by a kingly protestation, to aid & defend thée against thine enimies. Thus with diuers other ceremo∣nies of st••icter combining, was the truce concluded betwéene the kings, and instantly edicts sent abroad into euery ••••un∣trey for the assembling together of an infinite nu••••be of pa∣gans, to make an vnuanquishable army: which being mu∣stred & enrolled, instantly there betooke themselues to the sea, King Mermont, Antifer, Baucamont, & the wise al conque∣ring Meruin where for a while we wil leaue them, & return to the 4. brethrē, to wit Guion Bertran, Thietry, & Florion, & noble Huon of Burdeaux, who at that time was in the ar∣mie with them In their host was 20000. good christians by whose prowesse they had marched so farre, that now they had laied their fledge to Damascus, which then swarmed full of mis-beléeuing infidels, because since the returne of Escla∣mart, he had still in that place detained the ancient armie:

there was also with him in the towne the king Brandus, Herades, and Isay the king of Iuda. In briefe, there was fiue kings, and their powers at that time in the citie of Damas∣cus. When Esclamart sawe how gallantly the Danes had besieged him, hée called Bandus and the other kings, and sayde vnto them, You kings of Asia, and defenders of Alcheron, let vs issue out courageously. and visite these chri∣stians, and I doubt not, but if wée vertuously shew our re∣solutions, we shall before the Sunne touch the highest point in the heauens, vanquish and amaze them: for they imagi∣ned to haue found vs altogether vnprouide••, because mine vnkle king Baucamont is at Montment prisoner, and so in his absence, thought suddenly to surprise vs. Tis true, sayd Bandus, therefore you haue my consent, to sallie out imme∣diately. To this stratageme euery one concluded, therewith arming themselues, and then with a crie able to deafen thun∣der, they sallied out of the gates, and in a trice, cast them∣selues into battalion order. Bandus (sayde Esclamart,) beare you the standard, and for your garde, take twentie thousand of the best souldiours. You Herades shall haue other twētie thousand, and incompasse them about, through yonder valley, my selfe with the rest will charge them in the faces, and doubt not, but soone to behold th••ir destructions. In this politike sorte, Esclamart trained his troupes, who burnt with desire to bring our good christians to confusi∣ons: but they as too wise to bee foyled by inuention, had aduertisement by their espials of this approching, where∣fore Guion called his brothers and sayd••, Princes, remem∣ber you the blood from whence wée are descended, and the vertues of our famous father Gualtier, whose backe was neuer turned to the face of the proudest pagan. Remember you also our renowmed vnkles, whose almightie prowesses haue conquered the realmes which they now gouerne: euen now is the time for vs to imitate their vertues, and with lik••

prowesse to obtaine to our selues crownes of perpetuall in∣durance. And for mine owne part, I vowe by him that died for me, this day to giue my name such life amongst the pagans, that the rumor of mine honour, shall indure beyond all ages. To this they all answered, with an equall desire of honour, whose courageous spirites like lions, were neuer tamed, yet they were all excéeding yoong, the oldest amongst them hauing not as yet attained to the age of xxj. yéeres. Now God of his goodnesse prosper their procéedings, for im∣mediately begins the battell, which will be both fierce and dangerous. When ensignes were displaied on all sides, and the signe of battel giuen by the trumpets sounding, Bertran tooke a mightie lance in his hand, and spurring his horse, was the first that charged: whom, when a Turke named Butor, who was king of Ecalion, beheld, he d••sranged him∣selfe, and ranne to encounter him, but Bertran who tooke his flight like a tempest, came against him after such a fashion, that at one blow, both horse and man tumbled to the ground, which when Bertran had perfourmed, he returned with his sword drawen vpon the Turke, who with the blowe was so astonished, that locking his hands together, and li••••ing them vp, basely begged life, and pardon. Then Bertran dema••nded if hee would renounce Mahomet, and beléeue thence••foorth one onely Iesus Christ: to this the Turke an∣swered, no. Then by heauen, sayd hée, in me thou shalt finde no mercie, and at that word strake his head from his shoulders: then turning to his brother Guion, who ••hen was come vnto him, h••e sayd: Brother, if to euery one I pay this payment, I beléeue the pagans will game nothing by my tendure. Nowe began the batttell to bee mightie on both sides, and Guion leauing his brother, thrust himselfe amongst the middest of the pagans, where the first hée met, he threw dead to the gronnd, and in like maner made an end of the second. Briefly, before his lance was broken, he sent

some to the earth to acompany their forefathers: but when his lance was broken, then he drew his sword, and méeting with a pagan▪ he cla••e his head to his teeth and then pursu∣ed another. Bertran this while being amongst the thickest bandes of his enemies, encountred a pagan, who was the cosin to Esclamart, to whom he lent such a salutation, that he claue him downe euen to the girdle, which another pa∣gan beholding, ran to Esclamart, and sayd, Generall, thy noble cosine is slaine by a christian, see where he lieth, and see where his foe rangeth. When as Esclamart saw Bertran possessed with a fellonious rage of immortall reuenge, hee thrust spurres to his horse, and assailed Bertran with such puissance, that with the force of his present blowe, he strake his horse dead vnder him: but Bertran quickly vawted on his feete againe, and with his sword in his hand, ranne a∣gainst the pagan, against whom he boyled to obtaine but one straight blow, but by any meanes, he could not for the prease: yet notwithstanding reaching one, he light so violently on the head of his horse, that it was more then time for Escla∣mart to beare him companie on foote also: and Bertran then running against him, had there slaine him, but there swarm∣ed such innumerable troupes of pagans about him, that if God himselfe had not bene his defender, Bertran then had breathed no longer. Yet for all this, the gentle yong gallant miraculously behaued himselfe, for he strake not any pagan, but he seuered the life from the body. Isay the king of Iuda seing Bertran thus courageous, thrust himselfe against him, but there was mightie follie in his worke, for Bertran met him in the middest of his carier with such a blowe, that hee claue his head to his collar. O Mahomet, said Esclamart, this christian is possessed with some deuill, what mischiefe he doeth me: and then he cried to all his souldiers, promising prizes of great worth to him that could take him. Then was the famous gallant assayled on euery side, but like an inraged

bore, he ranged amongst them, and in such sort defended him∣selfe, that the pagans like larkes fell vnder the houerings of his wings. But yet alas, all his prowesse had profited him but litle, and he was at the point of taking or killing, when Thyery & Florion his brothers, with Huon of Burdeaux, with diuors christians, by great chance came to his rescue. Brother Bertran (said Florion) now or neuer remember who you are, and banish the feare of a pagan infidell, and with that word he thrust into the prease, ouerturning and killing al that stood betweene him and his brother. When Bertran saw him, he tooke new courage, and like a lion rouz∣ed himselfe with greater furie: in so much, that he strake Es∣clamart to the earth, whom Florion like a gripe seized vp∣on, and deliuered him to two stoute christians, who bare him to their tents. Then began the battell Hydra-like to renew, in which the pagans died without number, for whom soeuer Bertran touched, neuer more stood need of the phisi∣tion: on the other side his brother Guion did wonders who encountred a king named Afriquant, who was exceeding strong and valiant, him Guion ouerthrew to the ground, but a band of Sarazens despight his head, mounted him a∣gaine, and assailed Guion in cruell maner: but like a wise and valiant knight, he defended himselfe from their furie. Then came Huon of Burdeaux, who like a valiant knight of vn∣speakable vertue, ••lew infinite troupes of the pagans: but when he saw yong Guion in hazard, he turn••d vnto him, & in a moment, deliuered him from the swords of ••hose miscre∣ants. Atal this, the battell weakened no deale, yet might you haue seene as many knights lie dead on the earth, as starres in a winters night shine in the heauens, and so many ma∣sterlesse horses posting about the fieldes, as atomies playing in the sunnes beauty: yea, so valiantly our christians bare themselues in that conflict, that in the end the pagans were discomfited, as you shall heare hereafter.

CHAP. XXI.

1 How Florion the yongest brother was taken prisoner by K. Brandus. 2 How the pagans were ouerthrown. 3 How Florion was giuen in exchange for king Goham Gaifiers brother, and other aduentures.

MIghtie was the s••urre, and most dreadfull the battell, in which our christians shewed the renoume of their valiancies, but aboue all, the price of victory seized on the helmet of Bertran, for the number which he slew, were accounted numberlesse: euen the yongest of the brothers, most delicate Florion, did that day maruei∣lous acts, who beholding a pagan in his presence to kill a chri∣stian, swore deuoutly, his hand shold be his reuenge: but the pagan flying before him, thrust himself to a batalion of Sa∣razens, where Florion ouertaking him, slew him in his en∣terance. But euill befell that chaunce to the yoong gallant, who imagining to returne, found himself inclosed on euery side with the power of king Brandus, which thē were twen∣tie thousand pagans: all with one violence they laied siege a∣gainst Florion, but preuailed nothing against him, vntill by an euill misfortune, they killed his horse, who in his falling, fell vpon him: by which meane, and no other, they tooke him prisoner, and sent him to Damascus. Then Brandus brought his armie into the heart of the batel, with whose sight, it reco∣uered

new life, became sharper then at the beginning.

2 Yet was Bertra•• so feared amongst the pagans, that not any durst stand before him, but if any by chance did, they neuer after were beholden to their surgeon: so mightie and inuincible was his force that day, that by him king Goham the brother of Gaifier was taken prisoner, whom he com∣maunded to be brought to his tentes. Not farre from ••im, his brother Guion, like a demie-god of armes, incouraged his souldiours, charging them for the honour of I••sus Christ, and his deare passion, that day to be inuincible: for though the pagans be infinite, yet their flight is shamefull. To this renowned Guion belonged a squire, whose name was Regnier the sonne of his sister, who with a battell-ax which hee held, strucke a pagan named Tufier, thwart the helmet, with such vertue, that he c••aue his head to his shoul∣ders. When Guion sawe the mightinesse of his blowe, he went vnto him, and embracing him, gaue him the second order of knighthood, saying. Thou branch of the stocke from whence I am descended, continue thy magnanimitie, & by that honour, to which I couet to aspire, I will make thee the commander of a towne, or a stat••ly castle. Euen in his greatest mightinesse was the battell, when Bandus had ioyned his armie with the others. There might you haue séene so many lost heads, so many forsaken bodies, so many ouerthrowne knights, so many vnbckt horses, who trai∣ling their bridles vnder them, ••••ode their masters to pieces: that since the Lamb of Glory was shadowed vnder the spotlesse wombe of a virgine, the like hath not bene seene, nor heard tel of, nor that so great resistance could be made by so few as our poore christians: For the pagans were in num∣ber one hundred thousand and more▪ but our christians by their valure, lest but ten thousand which were not slaine or taken. The king Bandus was in the m••dst of the christian

armie, of whom he made mighty destruction. Among whom he thrust one noble christ••an to the hart: and after him, like a wolfe in a flocke, sent a number to follow him. On the other side of the field was Bertran triumphāt with victory, ranging to seeke his brethren. Two of them hee quickely found out, who were ioyfull to behold their conquest. Bro∣thers, said Bertran, where is Florion? I know not, quoth Guyon, it is conuenient that we goe séeke him. Then put they themselues into the battell to search him out, but could not find him: and there was reason, for he was straightly imprisoned at Damascus in a strong tower. When Ber∣tran saw he could not find him, he took a solemne oath, that nothing but the extreame darknes of the night should driue him from the field, and with that he beganne a new conflict, proposing his body against a world of swords: but how ma∣ny soeuer he dismounted, neuer rose againe to become ar∣med. Amongst the rest he encountred Croniquant, vnto whom he gaue such a blow, as he cl••ue him in two pieces. Now began the Pagans to recoi••e, & flie ••oward the towne, whereof when Bandus was aduertised, be vsed all his force and eloquence to returne. But it was in vaine, for they re∣ported how king Esclamart, Goham, and diuers others were taken prisoners, an•• carried to the Christians tents: which so soone as he heard, he betooke himselfe to flight al∣so, wh••m Bertran, Guion, Thyerry, and Huon chased so fiercely, that they put many of them to the sword, as they ent••ed the gates of the citie. Reignier in this chase, whom Guion had newly made knight, behaued himselfe so vali∣antly, that he was named the Pagan•• tormentor. Thus entred king Bandus into the towne, with tenne thousand that suruiued of an hundred thousand and better. Thus the Sarazens were ouerthrowne by the valure of our Barons: who as the storie reports, were so noble in their conquests, that nothing could resist them. They in this battel lost but

foure thousand men, and the wealth they gained was so in∣numerable, that the basest in the Christian army, was able to purchase a castle. Besides kings, they had an hundred of the greatest pagans prisoners. Yet for all this, the generals were not committed, but sorrowed for the losse of their bro∣ther Florion, to whose fortune they knew not what had chaunced. Briefly, their woe was so great, that no tong is able to report it. But leauing them in their doubtful∣nesse, let vs returne vnto king Bandus, who being en∣tered into the citie, and sad for his discomfiture, comman∣ding Florion to be brought before him, saide: Christian, I charge thée without any dissembling, tell me thy name. Pagan, answered he, in whom it was impossible for feare to haue anie residence, I hate the thing from which thou bindest me: know then I am called Florion, and so they baptized me, as those know that are acquainted with me. I haue thrée brethren whom thou oughtest excéedingly to hate, for they haue vowed neuer to part or turne aside, vn∣till they haue taken the city of Damascus, and conuerted hir people vnto our Religion. But I wonder much, I sawe not Baucamont all this day, surely he either ouersléepeth his glorie, or wanteth courage to sustaine himselfe in com∣bate. Christian (said Bandus) he is at Montment, and from thence is comming with a mightie hoste, to chastise your follies, amongst whom is a Pagan named Meruine, whose very rumour of excellencie, will daunt you with a∣mazement. But letting those things passe, tell me I pray thée, from what line art thou descended? My fathers name, said he) is Gualtier of Denmarke, that now ruleth Babi∣lon, whose mightie prowesse hath conuerted millions of your faith, to a perfit and true religion. Duke Oger also is mine vnckle, who conuerted king Moysant, and that wor∣thy sonne of his called Florion, who as the fruit of baptisme gaue me the name I now carry: know then, if by thée my

death be procured, not all the kingdoms of the world can shilter thee from vengeance. Be therefore aduised by me, and let me returne to my brethren, so shalt thou please them, and rescue thy fortune from a greater mischiefe. By Mahomet (replied ••andus) though thy youth and smiling eloquence might in a milder regard then mine, pay thy ransome, yet know, I am so farre at 〈◊〉〈◊〉 with relenting clemencie, that before the sunne decline an hower lower, thy head shall bée twentie score from thy body.

3 But when Gaifier heard him, he sayd, remember king Bandus the famous prisoners & our fellow kings who bide within the christians iurisdictions. In my conceite it were more wisedom to exchange him, then by his death to hazard al their fortunes: & I beseech you, if they will render my bro∣ther Goham for him▪ that you will yeeld and be pleased. I am most willing answered Bandus, t••y your fortune in the af∣faire. Then departed Gaifier, and came to the tents of the chri••tians, at such time as our barons were set downe to supper, whom in this maner he saluted. The great god Ma∣homet preserue king Bandus, and direct his counsels▪ and that God which you adore, soone dispatch you from the bor∣ders of th••se countreys. Guion, & you other commaunders of this christian societie, Bandus by me demaunds if you well ransome your brother from imprisonment for one of those kings you haue taken, which I shall nominate▪ With all my he art (sayd Guion) whose heart for ioy would haue leapt from his bosome, when he heard Florion was not dead: name whom thou wilt, and he shall bée giuen for his ransome. Then deliuer (said he) Goham my brother. Im∣mediately was Goham fetcht, and his forfeit armes de∣liuered him, and so conducted by Guion, Bertran, Thierrie and Huon, euen vnto the wals of the ci••ie. And Florion armed stood in the port where the exchange was solemnly

finished: Gaifier and Goham entring in, and Florion is∣su••••g forth, who vowed by the g••ory of his Sauiour, to pay his hoste a round payment for his short entertainement. Then came his brothers who imbraced him, and pompou∣fly brought him to their tents, where still remained many Pagan prisoners, vnto whom Bertran saide, that if they 〈◊〉〈◊〉 not remoue then false idall Mahomet, and be wil∣lin•••••• b••ptiz••d, they should 〈◊〉〈◊〉: but they like diuels har∣dener 〈◊〉〈◊〉 their m••schiefe, r••fused. Then said Guion, Bro∣ther 〈…〉〈…〉 these kings safely in prison, vntill the emperour Charles returne from the holy S••pulchre, who 〈…〉〈…〉 with our father: so shal the empe∣rour 〈◊〉〈◊〉 with our gift, and applaud the honour of our swor••s. It plea••eth me excellently, saide Bertran: so dis∣pa••ching their prisoners into strong 〈◊〉〈◊〉, they went to their ••est, till earely in the next morning, at what time they valiantly assaul••ed the towne, but with fruitlesse suc∣cesse: for why the city was strong••y fortified and peopled, with aboundance of all nations, who defended it (〈◊〉〈◊〉 with losse) to their hie admiration. And in that do••••••full manner we will leaue them, and speake of King Mermont, and the euer to be fea∣red Meruine. ¶

CHAP. XXII.

1 How King Mermont, Baueamont, Meruine, and two hundred thousand Pagans ariued before Damascus. 2 The losse the Christians receiued by the valure of Meruine.

THis while was Mermont vpon the Seas accompanyed with Bauca∣mont, Antifer, and the puissant Meruine, but not with the good Knight sir Drohes, for when hee knew the expedition was made a∣gainst the Christians, he refused the Kings colours, and staied with the Angell of women, diuine Be∣rea, who was richer in nothing than in the riches of his company: so prosperous were the windes to their sailing, that within a very sh••rt space, they attained to the sight of Dam••scus, where they landed about two leagues from the citie.

Now the Historie reporteth, that there was a certaine espiall, who beholding their landing, ranne to the tents of the Generall, and cried out, My lords, why haue you neglected to defend yonder hate-nourishing hauen, where euen now there is landed so many Pagans, as it is im∣possible

to number. Bertran more angry to feare, then heare his words, said Anaunt villaine, thunder thy threats in the ea••es of dead men, we feare no Pagans a pinn••. Sir, said the spie, belieue me for certaine, I haue seene an hundred thousand or more. When the rest heard, and saw his con∣stancie, they said, let vs arme our selues, prouidence auoi∣deth had-I-wist. When they were all armed, Guion cal∣led Bertran and Thierry, and said, I pray you stay behinde with fiue thousand souldiers, to this end, that if they of the citie issue vpon vs, you may preuent them from inclosing vs behinde: to this they were agreed. So Guion and the rest went against the Pagans, who beganne to approach a little before the euening. The rig••t renowmed Meruine marched before the rest, and with him onely Croisant, and Iacob, whose conference was the praysing of Drohes, in that he had refused to beare armes against his owne reli∣gion, to which praise Meruine lent double commendati∣ons, affirming him as well worthy the title of a King, as the honour of Knighthoode. All the while that they were in praysing Drohes, Mermont was encouraging his souldi∣ers, saying: Now was the time for them or neuer, to raise on high their god Mahomet. In these discourses they did march alongest a riuer, which led them to a broade and spacious field, where the Christians were ready to charge them.

2 Amongest whom, Huon with his launce in his rest, dis••anged himselfe against Meruine, vpon whom he broke his staffe with such fury, that the more Meruine was a∣stonished, the more he highly esteemed him, tha•• lent him the cause of amazement, yet not accustomed or willing to die in any debt to so good a creditor, he assailed Huon so va∣liantly, that hee bare him from the crupper of his horse backe: the shame of which fall, lent sorrow to the soule of

Huon, because till that houre, not any, how puissan•• soe∣uer, had power to make him loose his stirrops. When as Meruine had thus dismounted him, he turned to Huon, and deliuering him his horse, said Noble Christian, mount thy selfe againe, for so excellently haue I tasted of thy ver∣tue, that I will not wrong thée to purchase a kingdome. Then va••ted Huon vppe into his saddle, eased with this hope, that a world of Pagans that same day should pay for the shame which Meruine had done vnto him. Now by this time was Meruine like vnto lightning flowen in∣to the middest of the armie, and Mermont like him, was amongst the strongest battallions, whom the gentle Flo∣rion at the first encounter ouerthrew euen vnto the verie ground, and had in the same moment cut off his head, if he had not béene relieued by a strong band of Sarazens, who mounting their Lord againe, flew all vpon the infant, but so gallantly did he defend himselfe, that they all started backe, and the boldest du••st not giue another onset. Then cried he aloft. Denmarke, and victory, which as soone as Huon hea••d, like a madde man he ranne into the battell, and the first he encountred, was Marquant, whom he so saluted, that his head flew in two pieces: and after him, a second, a third, and a fourth fell dead to the ground before him, so mightily he sought to reuenge the shame Meruine had giuen him. And in briefe, such was his prowesse that he soone deliuered Florion from the throng of his enemies. Not farre from them was Guion, who had made a great sl••ughter of the Pagans, for from one at a blow he strake his eare from his head, and his head from his shoulders. Then old Baucamont aduance himselfe, who had but one arme, in which he held a strong launce, wherewithall hee was inflamed to assaile Guion, but he ••ailed of his intent, though Guion failed not at all of his purpose, for with his sword, as he passed by, he strucke that arme also from his

shoulder, to the terrour of the beholders, and torment of Baucamont, who hauing neuer an arme left, cryed o••t: Now am I the most misera••le 〈◊〉〈◊〉 raigning vnder the sunne, who am as hatefull to my selfe as fortune: and with that passed through his army, who sorrowed in beholde his misfortune. When they of the Citie heard the rumo••r of this battell they issued out of the towne, but were immediately intercepted by Bertran, Thyerie, and fiue thousand christi∣ans, who brauely set vpon them. Bertran, who was most hardy was the first that charged, and méeting with a noble Sarazin, named Moysant, stroke him dead from his horse: after him foure more in the same ranke he after the same sorte serued, and then cried: This day (trai••ors) shalbe Doomes day to your generation. At which wordes his brother Thy∣erie and all the army gaue a most courag••us charge, and o∣uerthrew a thousand Pagans that neuer rose againe to draw sword in anger. What shal I write more? Bertran his bro∣ther, and their souldiors (though not without great perill) so behaued themselues against the citizens that if they had bin any more then fiue thousand▪ the Pagans had neuer passed to ioyne with the great new landed army. But now the day failed, and the night beganne to shut in the sunnes win∣dowes, which was propitious for our christians because, if the day had endured, the valour of Meruin had ouerthrowne their reputation: but now, by reason of the darkenesse, a re∣treite was sounded: for which Meruine was g••••eued, and said, they had coniured vp cloudes to shadowe their flying. But notwithstanding, all parts were content to vse the pre∣sent benefite. Now Guion and Bertran are returned vnto their tentes hugely inraged▪ and Bertran said: Brothers ••nd Lords, this might hath the Pagans worst vs, but if I liue til the morrowe (God being mine ayder) I will atchieue such wonders, that the bloody liuery my sword shall put on, shall last longer then their religion. Now the Tables being

couered, the noble company sate downe to supper, where they were honourably serued. After supper, as soone as the tables were taken away, and the watch set, the Generals went to their rest, til the morning starre awakened the sun from slumber: then rising and arming themselues, they mar∣tialled their army into a warlike proportion, intending to assault the pagans, who on the other side were euery deale so watchfull, and stoode ready to behold the signall. Guion the vertuous Dane beholding both parties equall preparation, fell downe vpon his knées, and thus prayed: Thou true God of vs and our forefathers, I beséech thée in this battell be our guide and our defender: lift high the glorie of thine owne name, and bruze the armes of thy professed enemies, increase in vs euerlasting spirites of courage, that no scan∣dalous report of our misfortune, bring our aged fathers haires to the graue with disquiet: if otherwise it be thy wil, that our death shall this day giue an end to our aspirings, yet thou Lambe of Redemption, and thou God of Israell, vouchsafe that our soules may be placed with thy saints in Paradice. As soone as he had thus said, bowing his head, he kissed the earth 3 times for remembrance of the holy Trinity.

CHAP. XXIII.

1 How the Christians were vanquished by Meruine, 2 How Guion, Bertran, Thyerrie, Florion and Huou of Buraeaux were taken prisoners and carried to Da∣mascus.

AFter Guion had ended his Prayer and ceremony, he came to his brethren, and saide: Princes, I be∣seech you in the honour of the holy passion of our great God, blot from your thoughts, the remem∣brances

of all worldly action▪ out 〈◊〉〈◊〉 all your vnderstand∣ings he applied to the axaltation of our true religion, and the destruction of these faithlesse miscreants. This said, they marched towards their enimies. And the Pagans rāged on the other side, came prowdly against them. But now by this time was sprung vp in Mermont and the other Pagan princes, a mightie enuy against Meruine, as if his glorie darkened their praise, and it seemed to them, that without his assistance they were able to vanquish the christiās wher∣fore Mermont came vnto him and said: Meruine, thou art too valiant and ouer daring, to march thus before conti∣nually in the hazard of all chances, I pray thee stay behind with two and twentie thou••and, and approch not vntil the extremitie of our last fortunes call thee, because, in thée con∣sists our hope, and thy losse will giue an assuraunce to their conquest. I will (said Meruine) doe what your Maiestie commaunds me; but of my lif••, there is no wisedome in this pollicie, for I know by proofe that all your mightines is not able to resist their prowesses: yet notwithstanding approue your imagination, & if fortune proue contrary, mine aide shal not be far distant, though what you do in my conceite) is but to gaine that which I regard not. I meane this dayes glory, and not as you pretend, my safetie. And it was true he pro∣phesied, for they enuied he should beare away the prize in ech battel, and he but the son of Barbin the marchant. Now be∣gan the allarum to lighten in the eares of ech army▪ & a resol∣ued pagan named Turquant was the first that charged, whō Bertran separating himselfe, incountred with such violence, that his lance making way through both his sides▪ caried him to the ground, his first and last mother: at this the battel••es ioyned, like the outrageous méeting of many confused wa∣ters, where the Christians bare themselues most valiantly, and in the first shocke ouerthrew a thousand Pagans dead to the ground. Bertran, who as yet had not broken his launce,

méeting with M••rbrom, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 him to the heart, and brake his launce with the incounter. Then drew he his sword, with which he excellently knew wh••n to aide, when to de∣f••nd, and when to assaile▪ and with it did wonders. Guion his brother strake Acquilant▪ but not he of Lucerne, but an other, whom at the first blowe he diuided to the girdle, and then c••ied, Forward in the name of ••od, you christi••n nati∣ons, the day is o••••s. Thus said Guion, whilest Thyerie, who held his sword in both his han••s, was with his brother Florion in the middest of the army, making an admirable slaughter. Now ••eganne the ••••ttell to be strong and feare∣full, in which the Pagans died innumerably: and the christi∣ans increased so highly in their resolutions, that the Sara∣ze••s began, from a little recoyling to betake themselues to a maine flight, in which Baucamont ••as slaine by Ber∣tran and Mermont taken pris••ner, and with him diuers o••hers of the greatest estimation, who were carried to the tents to accompany Esclamart, that had runne the way of dishonour before them. ••ut now beholde the exchange of immortall fortune, our thrice renowned christians, in whom Conquest seemed to be prowd, because shée liued, and who r••turned victors from euery battell, shall vnluckily bee van∣quished and ouerthrowne by the hand of their néearest coh∣sine, most absolute Meruine.

You haue heard before, how Meruine staied behind with twenty thousand, according to the commandement of Mer∣mont, to whom as soone as a Pagan had declared the migh∣tie o••erthrowe that was befallen them, with a smiling anger he said: ••he King and his Princes imagined to subdue the christians without Mernine, in despight of Meruine, but it is happened otherwise, and themselues are forsaken for for∣saking Meruine. Well, now shal they know my power, and the woorth o•• my seruice, for before the euening shall call foorth the Moo••e to appeare in the great Starre-chamber, I

wil reuenge them on their enemies, and restore their liberty. This saide, he broached his renowmed beast, and with his army gaue a hote charge on the christians, who when they beheld Meruine (though not discoraged) yet were they wo••∣derously amazed: and not without good cause▪ for his men were fresh, and Meruine the best knight that in the worlde then liued, and they both ouerto••de and weary. Which when Bertran sawe, hée saide, Courage immortal spirites, and be not dismayed to beholde these Pagans: as I beare faith to my Sauiour, they are no more to be este••med then the withered grasse in a medo•• or the stalkes of corne in the hand of a shearer. By my life saide Huon) I thinke those we haue slaine haue purchased a new resu••rection. Not so (saide Guion] beholde how they lie in heepes one vpon an o∣ther. After this talke they prepared themselues, and incoun∣tred their enemies, whome they assailed with vnspeakeable resolution, but to too little profit, for their wearinesse had so much weakened them, that the Pagans slewe them most p••teously: and Meruine so victoriously tr••••mphed where he went, that not any escaped with life, on wh••me the weight of his arme descended. He slew Reignier, Guyons young knight, and after him another, and another, and al whosoeuer was within the reach of his ••urie. Our barons were astoni∣shed to behold his resolution: and yet more great incombran∣ces immediately fell vpon them: for why, the citizens issued againe, and the rather, at the ••••reaty of Guyda w••o be∣sought them to ayde her to tak•• him aliue, who had slaine her father: to whome Pimon declared, that Bertran was he that slew him in the great battell, whome Guyda mightily desi∣red, and inwardly loued, imagining her selfe happy if shee might but behold him. The Pagans assured her her wish, and so sallied out vpon the christians, on whom Meruin had raigned lamentable misfortunes.

•• Now were the gallants of christendome inclosed on e∣uery side, they of the citie behinde them, and Meruine be∣fore them, who alone was the planet of their destruction: for why, no force was proofe against his magnanimitie. When Florion sawe that he alone held in his hand their de∣stinies, he prest vnto him, and gaue him such a blow, thwart the helme, that he closed his eyes from the day light. But Meruine recouering himselfe, payed him backe so heauy a requitall, that hée strake the infant from his horse to the ground backeward, who was no sooner downe, but Sa∣razens eagerly le••pt vpon him: to whome Meruine saide, Kill him not (souldiours) on your liues, for he that wounds him, woundeth my soule also. Thus was one of the foure brethren taken, for whome was made piteous lamentati∣ons.

There was at this instant left of the Christians but ten thousand, who with one voyce cryed on God to be their ay∣der: and Bertran sayd, follow mée (my hearts) one God, one honour, and one graue: and then like a tempest of thunder he cast himselfe into the bosome of his enemies, confounding and killing all betwéene him and the goale of Honour. Mer∣uine this while chased the Christians to the gates of deso∣lation: at the which Guion grew madde thorough anger: and setting himselfe against Meruin, gaue him such a blowe, that he made him bowe his head to the creast of the great mare Mordant. But Meruine vnaccustomed to haue any such manner of regréetings, stroke Thyerrie (who then had thrust himselfe betwéene them) so mighti•• a blowe, that hée ••ell to the earth, and was instantly taken prisoner by the common souldiours.

After that Meruine had thus ouerthrowne Thyerrie, there came a Pagan vnto him, and tolde him, there wer•• two Christians yet suruiuing, whom it was impossible to take without great effusion, for on whomsoeuer their hands

fall, death followeth. And then hee brought Meruine where he found Bertran and Huon of Burdeaux, who ha∣uing ioyned backe to backe, shewed such discipline in armes, as might well haue remained a myracle to all ages. When Meruine viewed their couragious resolutions, he grew in∣amoured with their vertues: yet for all that, with Entrant his good sword he strake so manfully at Bertran, that albeit he neuer bended but to heauen, yet now he was forced to bow one of his knées to the earth. Then leauing him, he charged Huon, who seeing the blow, by recoiling backward, escaped the violence: but the Pagans came swarming so fast behinde him, that he was able no longer to defend him∣selfe against Meruine. Now were all the noble christians taken, except Guion, who alone with fiue hundred, did de∣fend himselfe, and they were all that sur••ued. Like a wilde Bore against a tree inuironed with a kennell of hungry dagges, so stoode Guion defending his life, and teaching his followers how to die brauely. But in a trice Meruine put those fiftie to the sworde, and tooke Guion prisoner, whom he deliuered to the Pagans, whome he charged vp∣on their allegeaunce, and his displeasure, to vse those vertu∣ous prisoners honourably.

When this was done, he went vnto their ••ents, where hee founde King Mermont, and foure of his consortes: also King Esclamart and sundrie other Pagans. When Meruine beheld them, hee sayd: Kinges and Princes, what make you heere? I imagined you had ouerthrowne the Christian army, but I see it is otherwise. Ah Meruine (sayd Mermont) euen for thy countries sake, and the ho∣nour of Mahomet, deliuer vs from this thraldome. Thou art onely wise, onely valiant, and onely most fortunate. Mermont (sayd Meraine) thy freedome is already paid for, and then cutting their bandes in sunder, made them free from their af••••ictions. This done, M••ruine commanded

the tentes t•• be ransacked, and all the wealth there of which was exceeding much, to be brought into the city. Then when al was performed▪ and they returned into the pallace in Da∣mascus, Meruine commaunded all the prisoners whom he had taken to be brought before him, and the other Pagan princes: which being accordingly effected, Guyda lookt vp∣on Bertran with a burning eye of desire, and an amorous a∣mazement sayi••g to Mermont, can your Maiestie possibly behold a semblance that more exquisitly resembleth the gal∣lant features of our most famous Meruine then this christi∣an, if his lineaments were as bigge and as largely shaped? It is most true Madam (saide Bandus) and the more I be∣holde him, the more I beholde him in him: How Princesse, (replied Meruine) is there in euery place one like me? Here∣tofore you said I did resemble Duke Oger, and am I now become like this christian? what, is hee also of Ogers li••e? Then turning to Bertran, he saide: Christian, I beseech thee without dissembling tell me the name of thy father, and the descent of thy predigree. Pagan, said Bertran, we whom you behold are the foure brethren that haue tormented Pa∣ganisme, and yet hope to be the last end of their destruction, Gautier of Denmarke is our father, who wanne his crowne with his sworde: and Oger whom you so renowne, and whom Enuie her selfe dare not but extoll, is brother to Gui∣on our grandfather, who now ruleth Ierusalem: It is m••st true, said a Pagan standing by, Guion king of Ierusalem is brother to Oger, whom I beheld in excellent combate to kill Bruhier before the walles of Laon, and his brother Iu∣stament before Accre so fierce and valiant is the descent of their pedig••••e. By Mahomet (said Meruine) sith I re∣semble Oger, I would I were also of his issue: and so hee was, though mischiefe and euil 〈…〉〈…〉 it from his know∣ledge: but the time commeth, in which he shall know him∣selfe and his of-spring. Thus (as you haue heard) questio∣ned

the Pagans with Bertran, who most stoutly made re∣plies. Then Mermont rising vp saide to Bertran: All thy linage hath béene the scourge and ruine of our religion: and I am too well assured, that nothing but your deaths can giue peace to our quiet: wherefore (Meruine) it is most neces∣sarie they die, to excuse our further trouble. Not so my Lorde (aunswered Meruine againe) wee will not wedde Tyranny and Conquest together: besides, I vowed in my selfe, not to doe them indignitie, till I haue taken, as them, their father Gautier prisoner: which done, I will in a royall nauy crosse the ••eas, & lay siege to the flourishing citie of Pa∣ris, and giue battel to the emperor Charles that is surnamed Great: and by the aid of Mahomet I doubt not to bring all France to my subiection. When Meruine had thus said, he commanded the foure brethren and all thother christian prisoners to be strongly imprisoned in an impregnable tow∣er, where Bertran consumed his time in lamentation for his royall father and mother. It hapned that Guyda, & Goham the brother of Gaifier, being one day vnder the turret, they heard the complaints of the haplesse Christians. Sir (saide Guyda) what is he that now speaketh, know you his voice? Madam (saide Goham) it is the mightiest of the 4 brethren, and the most absolute knight in the world next Meruine, & his name (as I take it) is Bertran, whose linage is as great as his minde, both incomprehensible. After these speeches they departed: but from Guyda neuer departed the remem∣braunce of those speeches: wherefore as she went, she said to her selfe that▪ Bertran from her loue should finde an inuinci∣ble army to release him, and that her desires should atend on him whilest her heart entertained a sympathy of his afflicti∣ons. Now were they returned to the pallace, where all the Pagan princes were set, who both honoured, and scared Meruine greatly, be••ause, when he was angry, he spa••ed no creature, of what estate soeuer, but dealt his almes alike

to all that maligne him. When supper was ended, Meruine commaunded that all the slaine Pagans should haue souldi∣er-like buriall: which being doone, amongest the dead was found king Baucamont, whom Meruine inter••d r••yally, of∣fering in his obsequies, honorable lamentations. As soone as the next day appeared aboue the mountaines, Meruine com∣maunded all his army to be mustred, for he would instantly march towards Babylon. Wherefore calling king Bandus vnto him, he gaue him the charge and gouernement of that citie of Damascus, swearing him to his allegeance, and with carefull respect to nourish and guard the honourable christian prisoners, and also with all the reuerent obseruan∣ces appertaining to so great a Maiestie, to adore and re∣nowne the excellent princesse Guida. When euery ceremo∣ny of his charge was ended, he, king Mermont, and a thousand Pagans tooke shipping for Babylon, where we will leaue them, and a while discourse of other matters. ¶

CHAP. XXIIII.

How Charlemaine departing from France to see the holy sepulchre, arriued at Babylon, and was royally receiued of King Gualtier. 2 Of the Embassage two Pagans brought from Meruine and Gaudisse. 3 A Councill holden by the Christians, who demanded day of king Karaheu, of Florion, of Mesque, and of his father Maysan••, at their comming to Babylon.

THe Historie reporteth, that in this time the most famous Emperor Charlemaine would néedes goe to Ierusalem, to adore the holy sepulchre, and to that end demaunded of duke Naymes if he would accompany him in the voyage, who most willingly agréed, aduising his Maiestie withall, that it were good to take with him also the reuerent archbishop Turpin, who had a longing desire to the iorney, the twelue Péeres, and fiue thousand resolued souldiers, to the end, that if in that expedition they were incountred with any Pagan princes, they might yet be able to defend them∣selues from mischiefe. Thy counsell pleaseth mée (sayde Charles) yet I can assure thee we may vnresisted passe euen vnto Samaria and Damascus, for that the rule of the Chri∣stians runneth euen vnto their citie walls. To be briefe in my Discourse, after Charlemaine had gathered his traine together, hée betooke him to the seas, where the gentle windes lent him so prosperous breath, that in few dayes hée

arriued at a Cape called the Arme of Saint George, where they landed, and the••ce marched to Babylon, whither they ranne a little before dinner, where they found Gautier the nephew of Oger, and with him Claretta his quéene, who had no vnderstanding of Charlemaines approach till they beheld him in their pallace. The ioy at their first meeting was vnspeakable, and their entertainement so royall as made al 〈◊〉〈◊〉 wonder. After many ceremoniall obseruances, and some repo••e taken, Charlemaine asked Gautier for his foure w••rr••ly sonnes, whom all the world made so famous for their 〈◊〉〈◊〉. He replied▪ that they were euen then be∣fore the w••lls of Damascus with a puissant host, where they had taken Goham and diuers other Kings and prisoners, and giuen the Pagans a mightie ouerthrow as he was cer∣tified by letters not long since receiued from their ••ents, and many other discourses they had, which I omit.

2 Anone, as the two Kings, Duke Naymes, and the twelue péeres were deuising of sundry recreations, there en∣tred into the hall, in prowd and maiesticall manner, tow Pa∣gans, the one had to name Iuorin Montbrant, the other Malegrap. A••d when they came iust before Gautier, with∣out reuerence, the first thus spake: Gautier of Denmarke, first vnderstand, that we are sent to thée from the puissant king Mermont, from Gaudisse his royall admirall, from king Manuel, from Goham king of Egypt, and from fiue other mightie kings: lastly, though deseruing a title before al other for the vnvanquishable wonder of knighthood, from a vassall of king Mermonts named Meruine, who hath vo∣wed to make all christendome acknowledge no god but Ma∣homet: and to that end, by the exquisite perfection of his magnanimitie, he hath taken thy foure sonnes prisoners, and slaine all their host, except themselues and thirtie others, who with them are detained at Damas, whom againe thou

shalt neuer behold, but with sorrow. Now these royall Pa∣gan kings, and thiefly Mermont, by vs commaundeth that Pilgrim-like thou appeare before them at Montbrant, (where they are landed) and on thy knées hum••ly implore their fauours, so shalt thou purchase thy selfe grace, and know their pleasures: if otherwise thou resist, with sworde and fire▪ they will instantly besiege thy cittie. When Gual∣tier had heard this thunder of a dismall oracle, his heart trembled in the armes of griefe and disple••sure: at last, though it were long ere wordes could find way from amaze∣ment, he said: How can this be true which thou reportest, when thou saist, my sonnes are detained prisoners? Gualtier (replied the Pagan) it is most true: then leaue to wonder, and giue answere to mine embassage.

3 At this, for a space they dismist the Pagans whilest the christians betooke themselues to counsell, where Gualtier de∣maunded what course was to be taken in these times of ex∣tremitie. Great princes (said Duke Naymes) this is my opinion: to the embassadours should no indignitie be offred, both because they are but the tongues of others hearts, and also because our barons whom they detaine, are subiect to the like vengeance, wherefore let vs demaund aide of the Chri∣stian King Karaheu of Iuda, and of the king Moysant, and his sonne Florion, intreating them, to whose religion and land it as nearely concerneth, spéedily to repaire with their forces, and maintaine the Temples of our God, and our owne liberties. To this counsell euery one concluded. Then sending for the Pagans againe, thus Gualtier made them answere: Pagans, returne to your Lordes at your plea∣sure, and say to Mermont and the others, that I am hear∣tily sorie for the thraldome of my sonnes yet can I not alter their fortunes: as for their inuasion, if they come to ex••le me▪ my sworde shall defend mée, whilest there is eyther

natiue honour in mée, or till the glorious God of my crea∣tion forsake mée. Say hée saide thus, who will doe thus? With this answere the Pagans reparted, and Gualtier dispatched Letters to King Karaheu: and the Emperour Charles and Gualtier himselfe went to Ierusalem, where they found the good king Moysant, who entertained them with royalty beyond expectation. To him Gualtier receun∣ted his sonnes misfortunes▪ and the threats of his own ouer∣throwe to whome Moysant promised all the aide and suc∣cours of his kingdome. Then went they to the holy sepul∣chre, where they offered vp their vowes, gifts, and protesta∣tions, and then with all spéede returned backe to Babylon, where they found Claretta the Quéene in great perplexitie of sorrow for the losse of her foure sonnes. The same daie arriued king Karaheu with seuentéene thousand knights of estimation, all which were gallantly receiued. The next morning came Florion of Mesque with fiue thousand, and his father Moysant with as many: olde Guyon of Den∣marke, the brother of Oger, and the father of Gualtier was not yet dead, he brought with him foure thousand: so there was in ••abilon of strange nations thréescore thousand besides fiue thousand which the Emperour Charles brought with him. Al which receiued an othe before the throne of the true God, not to leaue Gualtier till the death. Now let vs leaue them a while, and returne we to Iuorim, and Male∣grap, the two Embassadours, who returning to Mermont and the other Pagan Kings, declared their answere the e∣state of Babylon, the presence of Charlemaine, and the ge∣nerall resolution of the whole nation. Mermont at the first, with silence beganne to wonder, til Meruine awaking him saide: What dreame yon of (my Lorde?) my heart is set on fire with their wordes. I beséech you for honours sake, let vs march away presently. Héereupon a trumpet was sounded, and they all departed till they came within halfe a

league of Babylon, their whole army being three hundred thousand, amongst whom were foure giants, which were the brothers of Bruhier, whom Oger had slaine before the walles of Laon. When the Emperour vnderstoode they were come, he said, it would be a mighty indignitie, if they should molest him in the towne, wherefore he would néeds issue foorth, though all the dangers of the world hung on the aduenture.

CHAP. XXV.

How Charlemaine and all the christian army sallied out of Babylon. 2 ••Of the great battell, and how Mer∣uine flew Guion of Denmarke his vnknowne vnckle, 3 Also how Charlemaine, Gaultior, and all the twelue Peers were taken prisoners, and their army discom∣fited.

NOw beganne Charlemaine, by the summons of the trumpets to ga∣ther together of the christian army 60000, and planting them in a souldierly proportion for the sally, ••ode about the troupes with these incouragements: You sinewes of Kings, and vpholders of Mona ••i∣chies, I beseech you this day be al∣mightyrn re••olu••ion and combat agenst that coward Fear,

if he whisper in your heartes a thought of retiring imagine now the glorie of heauen (for so it is) is to be gotten by the conquest: and that the height of felicitie, for which from your infancies you haue made endlesse imprecations, is sent from aboue, and on this day by your valours to bée atchieued: that done, angel-like contend for your perpetuall happinesse, and that crowne of immortall recommendations, which the God of our forefathers will bestow on euery one that raiseth his trueth aboue these misbeleeuing, infidels. Behold then, (you champions of the highest) howe like hunger-starued beastes they come rauening, and hare alreadie before your faces deuoured your owne suppers: wherefore reuenge that indignitie, and maintaine the fréedome of your Religion. These and manie other spéeches the Emperour Charles vsed, to which the people answered with shoutinges and reioy∣eings. Then might ye haue heard a world of trumpets sound, double so manie drummes, tabors and tamburins: after which they marched against the Pagans, who in like maner came ordered and aranged to the encounter, king Mer∣mont, with Meruine, being two of the formost leaders.

2 When Guion of Denmarke, who was the brother of Oger and father to Gualtier, beheld Meruine, he charged his launce and ranne against him, whom Meruin with the same accomplement regreeted in the incounter: the good old Guion brake his launce, but without hazard to Meruine, who on the contrarie part smote him with such fur••e, tha•• he ouerthrew him dead to the ground without motion. When Gui••ns band beheld that misfortune, they al at once ••••••ailed Meruine seriously: but his defence was gallant, that he slew all whō he touched. Now ioyned the battel on euery side pe∣rillous, strong, & greeuous against the christians and ••••uel, & desperat against y^e pagans. Mermont Gaudisse & Brandis that day wondred, for they were at the beginning of the mis∣chiefe:

but aboue all was Meruine highly feared, for death vpon his sword had taken an euerlasting lodging: he as he posted, brake their rankes asunder, for not any Christian durst dare to assaile him. On the other side, Charles the great, king of Fraunce, duke Naymes and the twelue peeres, did such admirable exploits by their chiual••ie, that had it not béene for the inuincible prowesse of Meruine, the Pagans had not stood one houre before them, albeit they were thrée hundred thousand: so exp••rt and wise in warre∣like actions was Charles. All this while the battel encrea∣sed: at last Charles incountered with Malegrape, to whom with Ioyous his excellent sword, he gaue such a blowe that he diuided him to the nauell, and withall cried, Courage Mountioy, Saint Denis. When Iuorin beheld Male∣grape, slaine, he thrust himselfe against Charles: but the emperor gaue him such entertainment, as he fel dead to the earth backward: after him, another and another. The duke Naymes imitated themperor as néere as might be, who in∣countring Gaifier, cut off one of his armes, & Gautier that had but newly séene the death of his father, like a mad man did wonderfull actions: neither was Moysant nor his son florion short of praise worthy commendations. As for the good king Karaheu, he was in the midst of the battel, where he incountred king Mermont, vnto whom he gaue such a blow▪ that he killed his horse vnder him, and he had then bin taken prisoner, had he not cried Montment, so lowde, that Meruine heard him, who thrusting his mare forward, ore∣threw all betweene him and Mermont. No sooner was he séene but all souldiours gaue him place, so wel they kn••w, and were acquainted with him, only king Karaheu stowt∣ly withstood him, and strake so mighty a blow on his target, that in the middest he cl••ue 〈◊〉〈◊〉 asunder. Whereat Meruine was much grieued, and in qu••••al gaue him such a blow with Entrant, that he claue him to the iawes. Thus was king

Karaheu (whose like hardly suru••ued) flaine by Meruine: who afterward was by a generall Counsell canonized a S. and called saint Karaheu. Many miracles were done after the battell, which I may not report, but must returne to Meruine, who still conquered where he came. Amongest the rest, he slew a kinseman of Charlemaines, for which the emperour being displeased, and seeking reuengement, encountred a pagan whom he ouerthrew, and had flaine, but for the rescue of many soul••iours. Terrible was the battell, both of the one side and the other. Notwithstand∣ing that our Christians were few in number, yet their spi∣rits so oft redoubled, that their hands were bathed in blood continually, Gautier straue ••till to reuenge his fathers death. Meruine to increase his conquest, by hap he incoun∣tred with therie of Dampmartin, throwing horse and man to thearth▪ and taking him prisoner, bound him with cords. Then came the earle of Labrec to reuenge Dampmartin: but the gentle Meruine soone vnhorsed him, and tooke him prisoner.

3 At which Mermont reioyced, because he was the xv. prisoner Meruine had taken: so greatly were the ••hri∣stians viscoraged by the prowesse of Meruine, as they now began shamefully to flie for their safetie, and saue twentie thousand that still were re••olued, not a man would staie to sustaine battell. Whereat Charlemaine sorrowed greatly saying, their shames should not follow him but their owne confusions: which done, desperately he ran into the midst of the battell and D. Naimes after him, effecting greater mi∣racles than before. Meruine rode triumphantly, and in the end met with the Counte Villiers, the earle of Flanders, and the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 péeres: amongst them began along fearfull, and a doubtfull battell, but in the end, for all things are subiect to fortune, they were euery one taken prisoners: so as of the

christian hoste remained no moe commanders but thempe∣ror Charles, and duke Naimes, who defended themselues gallantly against their enemies. Meruine séeing Charle∣maine, he fell in loue with his vertues, saying: O Maho∣met, bow downe thine eies, and behold 〈◊〉〈◊〉 inuincible chri∣stians: and then moued with one enuious loue, and alone, le••t enuy should wrong so excellent perfection, cried to the common souldiers, vpon paine of death not to touch them: which cōmandement they obeyed, for they durst not gaine∣stand. Then Meruine opposing himselfe against them with honorable spéeches, the true badges o••perfect magnanimi∣tie, he said: Princes, yield your selues, when Fortune can auaile to no more conquest, and inrich me with your names bicause many pagans haue told me the armes you beare do belong to France, and that one of you also is the emperour. Thou saiest true, (said Charles) and know, my name for dread of any Sarazen was neuer changed: Charles is my name, Charles that ruleth Rome, Fraunce, and all Chri∣stendome: and ••his is duke Naymes, the nearest to me in counsell and affection, therefore stand vpon thy guard, and approch vs not, for here wil we liue, and here will we lear•• to die. Who first presents himselfe to be our tutor, shal ne∣uer haue other priest, surgeon, or sepulchre. At this speach a pagan king rusht to duke Naimes, giuing him such a blow as he strake him to the ground: but the duke quickly reco∣uered his féete againe, and mad with that amazement, sent him backe such a requitall, that the Pagan thereof died. And then were the Emperour and the Duke assailed on e∣uery side freshly: who notwithstanding defended them∣selues valiantly: insomuch that Meruine pitied them, and stoode in doubt whether it were better he should preuaile, or they perish. At this he descended from his mare, and em∣braced king Charles, to whom he saide, Thou excellent wonder of Knighthood, alas, thy defence is bootlesse, & I die,

to thinke thy fortune should perish: yield to him, whose pi∣ty thou ha•••• taken prisoner in beholding thy vertue. Charls hearing this, and such honor in his enemy, said: Thou glo∣rious Almighty, that for their sinne exiled Adam and Eue from paradise, comfort, and coun••ell me: and with that he yielded himselfe to Meruine, only desiring him to ballance his honor▪ not by the foile of his ouerthrow. Sacred empe∣ror (qd Meruine) feare no misfortune, thy thraldome shall be but thine owne pleasure: then receiuing his sword, and taking off his helmet, deliuered him to a band of the noblest Pagans▪ to whom he gaue so speciall charge of adoration & reuerence, that like a demie-god he was deified. Duke Naymes séeing Charlemaine taken, deliuerd his sword to Meruine. Thus was the emperor Charles, duke Naimes, the xij péeres, and xxxiiij noble christians taken prisoners, and all bound one to another, except the emperour, who had ingaged his royall word t•• Meruine, not to depart with∣out his licence. This being done, and that there was not left a christian which was not slain or taken, Meruin went instantly, and gaue an assault to Babilon, but the citizens knowing it folly to withstand, when their chiefe comman∣ders were imprisoned, came forth, and deliuered the towne to their mercie, bowing their neekes to the yoke of slauerie, renouncing the only true God, became misbelieuing mis∣creants. As soone as Mermont was entred into the towne he imprisoned Charlemaine and the other Chr••stians, in a tower where they were safely garded, as prizes of inesti∣mable•• value: but king Charles spent all his time in teares and such like lamentations. Alas, thou maiden mother of the worlds saluations ought I alone to be the subiect of all misfortune? must my long admired honor die in so shameful a graue of disparagement, and must my rule that stretcht beyond Europe & Asia, be her selfe contained in a square of this little compasse. If so it must be, it is my sinne, & happie

I, if it alone be chastised for my transgressions: thus spake king Charles, whose bird flourished like a white palme tree. Meruine hauing now alittle repasted himselfe▪ called toge∣ther the pagan kings and princes, saying: My lords, this place we must make no place of repast or banquetting, be∣cause s••uggardise is hatefull to the honour, whereto we co∣uet to aspire: wherefore prepare your selues presently to depart, for I will not rest till I haue taken Mesques and Ierusalem, and brought the whole countries thereabout to our subiection, and taught the people to adore no god but Mahomet. Lord Meruine, said Mermont, thy will shalbe our guide, and thy courses shall direct vs: Then sending their drummes and trumpets about, and sommoning their bands together triumphantly, they departed from Baby∣lon, and so restlesse continued in their marchings▪ that they shortly appeared before the walles of Me••ques, to which they laid so fearefull a siege, and gaue such maruelous as∣saults, as in few dayes they tooke the towne putting man, woman, and child to the sword, except those that willingly fell downe and adored Mahomet. Thus Meruine made himselfe lord and master of Mesques, dor he had a desire to rule in that citty: yet he would néedes forward to Ierusa∣lem. So he made a Pagan his lieutenant to rule only in his name: and with the greatest pomp that might be, before his depar∣ture, crowned himselfe king of Mesques.

CHAP. XXVI.

1 How Meruine and the Pagan host came before Ieru∣salem, 2 How the citizens rendred vp the towne. 3 How Meruine refused to enter into the citie, but re∣turnd to Babilon, at which many of the pagans mur∣mured.

AFter Mesques was conuerted to the damnable be∣liefe of Mahomet, and Meruine had established it for his owne gouernment, he would not sléep anie occasion, but charged all his army to be in readi∣nesse, for that forthwith he would march to Ierusalem, to make himselfe lord of that mighty towne and the countrey thereto adioyning. When Mermont heard him, and saw the desire he had to spread their law through all nations, he said: O Mahomet, how great are thy workes, that from the loines of the poore merchant Barbin, hast ••aised a glo∣rious branth, to exalt thine honour, and to bring all Chri∣stendome to subuersion? This spake Mermont in the hea∣ring of Meruine, to whom he did all the reuerend honours might be deuised: but in soule, both he and all the Pagan princes extreamely hated him, because the honors where∣with they shined, were but borrowed from his splendor. And for that their labours could neuer attaine to a perfite end, yet they durst not but obey him, feare, not loue being their ruler. All things being now prepared, they departed from Mesques, and marched with such prospe••ous expedi∣tion,

that they came before the noble and ••acred towne, where the Lam••e of 〈◊〉〈◊〉 all glorie suffred his death and passion for the worlds redemption.

2 As soone as Meruine behold it he practised it and im∣m••diatly prepared for so strong and dreadfull assault: so that the poore Christians beholding their imminent danger, held a counsell, and concluded to deliuer vp the keyes of the citie: wherefore comming forth, and casting themselues prostrate before Meruine, they said: Dread Lord of our liues and beings, behold, we the chiefe rulers of this haples towne, render ourselues to thy gratious mercy▪ deliuering to thée, as to our liege lord, all our possessions, promising to serue thée loially, and to hold thy faith lawe, and religion. Meruine hearing them, replied, Citizens stand vp, and be courageous, for your peace is concluded in an happy houre. Assure your selues from the honour of my reputation, ney∣ther man, woman nor child of this towne shall be damnifi∣ed: so returne in all peace, and be loyall: for not a souldier shall come within your gates, but we will all returne vnto Babilon: then turning to the hoste, he commanded them to take vp their pauillions, and march towards Babil••n.

3 At this all the Sarazens were mischieuously agr••e∣ued, and with priuate murmuring, railed vpon Meruine, who to their troubles would allot no ending but notwith∣standing, all they set forward, and by the restlesse labour of many dayes and nights, at last they arriued at Babylon, where they banqueted and reposed themselues, the space of 〈◊〉〈◊〉 dayes. After it hapned vpon a day, that Iacob the mer∣chant came to Meruine, and said: How now my lord, how walks loue in your thoughts? what, is he vtterly exiled? is there n•• remnant of memory left to preserue the perfectiōs of beutifull Berea? Ha Iacob (said he) more then thy blunt

sences are able to measure▪ but why dost thou now examine me vpon this holy article? For this (said Iacob) that if ab∣sented time haue not shut excellencie in doubtfulnesse, then would I haue you, that you may by it binde her loue in a more eternall band of affection. Take Charles, his twelue peeres, and the rest of thy prisoners, and as the conquests of thy sword and her beauty, deliuer them to her sacred maie∣stie, that she may dispose them, vntill they returne from Fraunce, and those other countries, which alredy thou hast subdued, and of which in ensuing time thou shalt be king and ruler. Iacob qd Meruine, thou hast tutored me to my contentment, and thy councelis as an Oracle: for to hir and no other my selfe and my sword is deuoted. As they were thus conferring Mermont entred in, who with a lowly, yet kingly adoration, saluted Meruine, and more would haue done, if he knew, to haue done, more for feare he stood in to∣wards him, than for any religious affection he bare him: and then said; My lord qd Meruine, it behooues you now to thinke of your expedition into Fraunce, and to dispose of these christians you haue already taken. Saide Meruine, if your Maiestie will walke into the great hall, where the rest of the pagan princes are set in counsell, we wil discusse of this affaire. Meruine calling the gaoler, commanded him to fetch the prisoners he had in charge. Instātly the Turk performed his will, and brought forth Charles, the twelue Peeres, and all the rest of the christian prisoners. As soone as Meruine saw them he stood vp and said, kings princes, and barons, My will is, that these Christian prisoners be conueyed to the castle of Turgon, vntill by my prowesse I haue conquered France, and all the famous countries bor∣dering her territories. How (said Gaudisse) or wherefore shall they be thither haled? O what reason is in so doing? I tell you, their liues are dangerous death they haue deser∣ued, and death by my wil shal they haue. Scarce were his

words ended, but another pagan rose vp, saying: Meruine attend my words. This many yee••s haue I traueld my bo∣dy, and wasted my reuenues to effect these conquests, and shall I now loose my g••erdon? part haue I wonne of these prisoners, my part will I haue, and that part shall part with their liues at this present. And I also, said another pagan, who was both rich in wealth and strong in friends, and his name was Gratian: tis reason I haue my part and profite of these prisoners, otherwise princes, let vs ioyne together, and with our swords diuide them.

CHAP. XXVII.

1 How Merui••e would not consent to the death of the christians. 2 The great battell which fell out in the palace. 3 How the christians aided Meruine, and how the pagans came and cried him mercy.

WHen Meruin (and not without 〈◊〉〈◊〉 saw the arrogancie of the pagans, and that 〈◊〉〈◊〉 force they would diuide those spoiles 〈◊〉〈◊〉 them, which his sword onely had obtained, he was almightily displeased, and with a fie∣rie countenaunce of anger, told them, it should not be as they had deemed, but that in despight of the proudest in that assembly, he would beare the christians to Montment: and as diuine trophees of his affection, he would present thē

to his celestiall Lady and mistr••sse, (as Iacob before had gi∣uen him counsell) wherefore (sayd he) if there bée any pagan, of what estate soeuer, that speaks another word of resistanc••, Entrant my sword shall be so equall a iudge twixt him & me, of my vengeance, that the rest shall be warned by his misfor∣ture: and then raising his voyce more higher, What (said he) will you diuide the things belong to mee at your pleasure? I sweare by mine homage to Mahomet, the proudst pa••ā that dares to contradict my wil, or mislikes the intents of mine ac∣tions, shal forfeit his head to my sword presently. As he thus spake, K▪ Gratian rose vp who had about him a mighty band of sarazens, and sware by Mahomet, he would kill Charle∣maine, for he hath bene the scourger & tormenter of our reli∣gion. Therfore (said he) this day wil I take vengeance on his head▪ and not be withstood by threates, or denied my pleasure by a boy, y^e base son of a silly marchāt. At this word he went to king Charles, and tooke him by the beard, which was whi∣ter then snow, saying: false traiterous king, this day will I hang thee like a thiefe, and withal stroke him with a cudgel.

2 Which was so vnpleasant to the eyes of Mer••ine, that drawing Entrant his sword, he strake king Gratian twixt the necke and the eare▪ with s••ch violence, that he chined him euen to the girdle: but no sooner was that fatal blow deliuered but the whole armie assailed Meruin with infinite violence: yet miraculously defending himselfe▪ neuer striking in vaine, so that from euery blow death ensued. There was amongst them another king, & cosin to Gratian, who was the greatest setter forward of the sedition him Meruine ouerthrew dead to the ground, and then began the battell to increase with huge horrour against Meruine, who like a mad-man laied about him here and there not sparing any.

3 When our christian princes perceiued, that for their safe∣tie

Meruin had thrust himselfe into this dāgerous aduētu•••••• they concluded among themselues, either to aide him, or p••••rish in attempting: and thē thrusting themselues before him they said, courage prince Meruine, this day we will die for thée, for thou hast beene gracious to our misfortunes, and we will partake thine ex••remitie. With that, they thrust them selues against the pagans with euery one a sword in his fist, making a fearefull and bloudie skirmish, from one they cut his head, from another his armes, legs from the third, and generally, life from the most they encountred. Charles in this battel behaued himselfe most couragiously, but Meruine more enraged then a long hunted bore, without regard, made slaughter of al before him, and by the ayde of the chri∣stians, quickly win••wed the hall of liuing creatures. Mer∣uine seeing this, sayd to the christians: Lards, beware that by you no treason be••ide my fortune, for then shal your vniust∣nes giue shame to your valu••es. Prince Meruin qd Charls, doubt not our trustinesse, who whilst we breath, wil not faile thy fortune, & when thou art conqueror be iudge of our liues & deaths as please thée. After these speeches they al issued out of the hal, & assailed the pagans on euery side, who with feare were so s••rprised, that they 〈◊〉〈◊〉 not to what fortune to be∣take thē▪ but cried out: woe alas, Meruin is inraged, he hath forgot, Mahomet, & is become a christian. Notwithstanding this Meruine and the christians pursued them, aud as the hi∣storie saieth, slew 64. in a moment, which not a litle grieued Mermont, who now could not record any meane how to ap∣pease Meruine. At last he called Barbin, and with teares be∣sought him to coole the fi••e of his sonn••s wrath: & then they two ioining together, went, & on their knees cast themselues before him, whilest Mermont said: ••rince Meruine▪ for the loue of Mahomet and Barbin thy father, and in ruth of my teares whom sometimes thou hast called thy soueragine▪ ap∣pease thy iust indignation, and Ile sweare vnto thée by the

hoste of Mahomet to performe thy wil in al things, & if it be pleas••ng in thy sight, henceforth become thy subiect. By Iu∣piter, said Meruine, thou hast spoken in a happy houre, Rise father▪ and rise king of Montment, mine anger shal breake, if my wrongs be amended. Then turning to the christians, he sayd, Princes, returne into the hal, for a t••uce shalbe con∣cluded, & my wil no more neglected. No sooner had he spoken, but Charles & his peers, retur••ed into the pallace, and Mer∣uine with an angry looke sayd to the pagans: Princes, ima∣gine mée not satisfied, though I shew a relenting: for by my right hand, my seruants death shall not be dismissed, till the proudest of you all, vpon your knées▪ come & cry me mercy. At this, all the pagans cast themselues on their faces before him, and with one voy••e cried, haue mercy vpō vs inuincible prince Meruine, and thy will shall be the law to rule vs and our nations. Here pitie tooke place in the eyes of Meruine, and raising them from the earth, gaue to them new peace and comfort. Which done, he bade them arme themselues to guard those christians to the castle on Furgon, which is scituate within Montment, where he intended to detaine them till his returne from France & her neighbor countreis, where he ment to ruinate their abbeys, and burne the mo∣nasteries of ancient foundation: this done, they ran & kissed his féete in signe of their subiection, glorying that by him they and their lawes should be so highly exalted. Thus tri∣umphed they with proud hearts, but I fear me within short space they will haue other resolutions: for euen now almost is the sacred ••••nger of the diall, vpon the hower in which Meruine shall know, who is his tru•• father, and the royall descent of his glorious pedegrée: a history more delectable to heare, then those iarring tumults already ••u••r passed.

CHAP. XXVIII.

1 How Meruine departing from Babylon, brought Charlemaine and the other Christians to the castle of Turgon. 2 Of the apparition of the angel to Charles. 3 How Meruine knew himselfe to be the sonne of Oger, and the fairy Morgue.

THe history reporteth, that during the time that Meruine was in Babylon (where he brought the pagans and Sarazens to such subi••ction, that his very lookes commanded them to all humblenes) the good king Charles who many times with zealous admiration beheld Meruine, at last ima∣gined him so liuely to present the image of Oger, that he could not chuse▪ but one day sayd vnto him prince Meruine, I know not thy descent nor generation, but of what or whence soeuer thou art, beléeue me thou doest so liuely re∣semble the most victorious duke of Denmarke prince Oger, that were but haire discouered vpon thy youthfull ch••nne, I would haue sayd, thou hadst bene no likelyhood, but the self∣same most excellent creature: for of my soule there is not the greatest master painter in the world that can so vere••y 〈◊〉〈◊〉 his per••ra••t as thine owne lookes: neither dis••aine 〈◊〉〈◊〉 to him thou art compared, for that neuer yet in any battell 〈◊〉〈◊〉 there pagan, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 or Sarazen, that by manhood was able to resist him. Tis most true, sayd duke Naimes, and the twelue péeres also▪

When Meruin heard thē, he sayd, I know no•• wel my 〈◊〉〈◊〉, what my selfe am, but many as well Saraze••s as christians,

who haue séene the duke Oger haue euer compared me vnto him, so that my selfe am in loue with him to whom my selfe am so often compared. After diuers other such like dis∣courses, Meruine cōmanded the Christians to mount them selues on horsebacke, and then comming to Mermont and Gaudisse, he said, I wil my Lords that you stay here in Ba∣bilon till my re••urne, whilst I conuey these christians to the ••astle of ••urgon where they shalbe safely imprisoned, and I will leaue the keyes with beautifull Berea, whom vntill my returne I will make their Empresse. Prince Meruine (an∣swered Mermont) be all things as pleaseth thée, for willing∣ly we will stay to attend thy pleasure. This spake hee with a seruile humblenesse, rather inferd from feare, then issuing from a certaine loue. Thus Meruine and with him 4000. of the best estéemed Pagans, tooke their iourney towards Turgon▪ whither the heauens and all the gratious aspects of wel portending Planets happely guide him, because he shal neuer returne to Babilon, till he bee made a diuine and re∣ligious Christian, rooting from the face of the earth both Mahomet and all other false gods, and onely lifting vp in most hie exaltation the Name of the euer-liuing IESVS. So prosperously they iourneyd that anon they came within the sight of Montment, where Meruine calling Iacob, sent him before taduertise Berea of his approching: who with an entire zeale performed his cōmandement. And after he was entred to the towne, he ascended the Pallais, where he found the only starre of perfection Berea, whom with low humble∣nesse he saluted, and reported the comming of Meruine, the bringing of ••ing Charles of France, the twelue Péeres, and diuers others whome his inuincible prowesse had made cap∣tiues before the walles of Babilon. Berea hearing this had al her s••nces so suddenly ouergone with ioy, that from her a∣mazement issued nothing but great wō••er. But Drohes wh•• sadly had giuen attention to his discourse, dissolued his harts

blood in water from his eyes, and with extremitie of passion thus exclaimed, O thou true God of glory, how speedily shal the ruine of France fall vpon her bosome, sith Charles and the twelue peers, the columnes that sustaind her, are broken by Meruin, whose vnspeakable magn••ni••itie nothing hath force to resist•• Many other teares of sorrowfull meanings fell from good knight Drohes, who for the loue of Charles seemed to pine•• with lamenting. Now the day being growne by many hour••s aged, Meruin and his traine entred the city: thence he went to the Palace where Berea most royally gar∣ded came down and met him: between them was an incoun∣ter of hie delicacie, their armes locking together their lippes, and from their lippes interchangeably breathing their so••les into ech others bosome. Many prettie questions they had of eche others safetie, many oracles of their fortunes and many histories of their loues, the legends wherof lasted, till they were returned into the great hall of the Pallace. Then were the Christians conueyed to the castel of Turgon, and safely imprisoned, all the Péeres being most disconsolate.

2 Onely king Charles from whom no misfortune would take away the title of a royal spirit, and whose faith in the li∣uing God was euer vnmoueable, cast himselfe on both his knees to the ground, and with lift vp hands, and erected eyes thus prayed, Glorious God, that for our sinnes▪ and for our saluation vouchsafedst thy life by thy death and passion, thou that the third day rose againe & ascendedst into heauen, thou that deliueredst Adam & the Prophets which had attended thy comming also, as this is true, & on it my faith is groun∣ded, so I beseech thee be my deliuerer from these gates of ill chance and bondage. When king Charles had made this short petition in honor of the holy Trinitie, he kist the earth three times. And then as he was in rising there appeared to

him an angel of light, who blessed him with this happy salu∣•••••••••• Noble king Charles, bee not abashed, for that power which hitherto hath succoured thée will no•• now refuse thée, who by me assures thée, tomorrow thou shalt be deliuered by Meruine, 〈…〉〈…〉 the sonne of Oger 〈…〉〈…〉 strong in thy sayth and take comfort. ••his sayd the heauenly embassador 〈◊〉〈◊〉 from his presence, and the emperour 〈◊〉〈◊〉 thanks, rose vp, and 〈◊〉〈◊〉 the vision to the nobles, who called home ioy to their hearts▪ and gloried in their aduenture. Meruine this 〈…〉〈…〉 a priuate chamber with Berea and Iacob the merchant: & Gratiana the fair•••• had withdrawn her selfe to behold Drohes in another chamber, where he rent his gar∣ments, ••are his haires, and lamented exceedingly, crying out, that Meruine, in whom vertue was onely beautifull, would be the vtter ouerthrow of vertue that had made him beauti∣ful•• Ah (sayd he) now shal Truth sléep againe with Obliuion, and Time shall consume in mourning for his daughter. Ha, Charles, Charles, thine affliction is my torment▪ and thy dis∣grace the death of our religion. This sayd, he fell downe to the ground, wr••ng his hands, and with dumbe sorrow ex∣ceeded all speaking lamentation. After Gratiana had beheld his infinite formentings▪ and with-all entering into conside∣ration, that from Meruine issued this almightie miserie, and she the cause why Meruin made them so miserable, without any word speaking, she departed from the chamber, her heart euen wounded ••o death with the terror of others mourning, and comming into an a••bour whither euery morning Berea was accustomed to come, she there continued all night, vsing such strange actions of vnusuall sorrow, that if some diuine power had not guarded her wees, she had there dispaired & died. Earely in the morning according to her woont, gentle Berea, came to the arbour, and beholdi••g (ere shee ap∣proched) strange signes of distemperature in Gratiana, staid

alittle to sée the issue, and with that she heard her say, Thou true God of immortall glory haue mercy vpon me▪ whose infinite euill deed is almost run beyond the race of all pitie: and then she swouned, recouered, and freshly lamented▪ Af∣ter this Berea came vnto her, and demaunded a reason of her passion, to whom she said, Ha madam, my torments be worthy no end, because the ill I haue committed is with∣out measure. And then she recounted vnto her all she had done against Meruine, his birth, her enuy, his stealing a∣way, her arriuall in these parts, and what besides, whence these ill turnes were succeeded. Alas madam, said she, my sinne is worthy no redemption▪ nor my sorrow any eie of pity▪ the rather bicause I haue from him kept euer obscured this which to you now I haue revealed, neither dare I at all make knowne his fortune, lest he should kill me for my treason therefore madam let your heauenly tongue beare to him the embassage of his birth and linage, whilst from hence I fl••e into some forsaken desart, where neuer man or woman shall m••re behold me or my misfortune.

3 Not so answered Berea, sith my loue twixt him and thee shall make a peaceful conclusion if thou wilt stay here and dilate to his owne eares his of-spring. I will madame, said the▪ and forthwith Berea went where she found Mer∣uine, about whose necke when she had foulded her armes, she said, Sweet loue, I pray thee graunt me one little little petition. What euer it be said he, it is graunted, be it the greatest thing the world containeth. Then, said she, I be∣séech thee be not offended with any of thy forepassed for∣tunes, neither with the causers of thy destiny chiefly with Gratiana, who wil repeate to thee the truth of thy descent and pedegree. Why lady (qd she) should I be offended for my birth? I know I am the sonne of a merchant, neyther am I ashamed of that linage, because my 〈…〉〈…〉

me higher in the world than the sonne of the greatest Sowldan. Walking along with these discourses, anone they entred into the arbour where they found Gratiana, who repeated such stories of his fortune, as cost the liues of many hundred thousand pagans and Sarazens: such was the valure of Meruine, who by his powerfull magnanimi∣tie descended euen to the gates of hell, and made the diuell obedient to his sword▪ as shalbe declared hereafter. Grati∣ana no sooner saw Meruine, but she fel vpon her knees say∣ing; Prince Meruine, immortally haue I sinned against thee, and the li••e whence thou art descended, admire not thē the wonders thou hast atchieued: for thou art by birth a Christian, aud the sonne of the most famous that euer drew sword with resolution, euen the sonne of Duke Oger, the neuer to be conquered Prince of Denmarke, who begate thee in the Fairy land of the royall borne Fairie Morgue: from her I stole thee, hither I brought thee, and here vntil now haue I kept in couert thy fortunes: wherefore I con∣fesse my selfe worthy damnation, sith by me, and by mine occasion thou hast ruined both thine owne bloud, and the glory of thy fathers religion. When Meruine with great attention had heard her▪ he grew amazed, & bowing downe his head, stood dumbe with admiration. At last, desirous to be better satisfied, he said to Berea, How can this be? Be∣lieue me, I cannot trust this new borne honor, if it be not prooued more euident. Meruine (saide the Fairy, be my soule, which sobs with sorrow in my breast, all that I haue said is true, thou art the sonne of the most renowmed Con∣querour of the world, who at this instant is in Fairy land with the princesse thy mother. Now the great diuell (saide Meruine) that conueied thee hither, conuey thee to hell for the wrongs thou hast done me, making mine hands the murders of mine owne kin, viper-like eating my glorie from mine owne friends destruction: liue henceforth bani∣shed

of sun-shine, and neuer ••••nd company but shame and darknes: how well hath euery one compared me to Oger, making my looks an index to his vertues, W••l, sith I am assured of my descent, thankes to the Greatest that hath sent me this vnderstanding, whom on mine humble knees I pray to pardon th••rrors of my ignorant euils, and to adde to my new spirit a new resolution, that these hands of mine may teare downe the euill I haue exalted. Turning a∣gaine to Gratiana he said, Thou author of my ill fortune, tell me, am I baptized in the Christian Lawe, or no? She answered him that he was, king Orient, and king Arius, and the glorious Meruina, from whom his name was de∣riued, being the witnesse to the Sacrament. Meruine ha∣uing weightily pondered on all the speaches of Graiana, his displeasure grew mightily impatient, and he said, Ma∣licsous, auant my sight, and neuer henceforth dare more to behold me: for were it not my loue and oath bindes me to this goddesse of my seruice, instantly would I execute on thee an infinite vengeance. At this angry discharge Gra∣tiana depa••ted with dying sorrow, from the presence of Meruine, and as the history reporteth fled to a wast and vn∣frequented wildernesse which bordereth vpon Damatam, where the rem••ined, and where we wil leaue her till som! better occurrent reuoke her, and we will proceede with re∣nowmed Meruine, who espoused Berea, on whom he begate Orient the father of Helias that begate Idain that bore Godfrey of Bullen, as it is written in the holy Legend of the same Godfrey. (∵)

CHAP. XXIX.

1 How Drohes instructed Meruine in religion. 2 How Meruine deliuerd Charlemaine, and the twelue peers. 3 How Berea was baptized with the rest of the cit∣tie, and was named Mathaburna, & other accidents.

IMmortally valiant Meruine, when (as you haue heard) he was assured of his genealogy, which bred in him no little comfort, and the rather, because he was a Christian, and the sonne of so famous a champion, yet he not a little grieued, that by him the Christians were surprised and brought to so streight a doore of misfor∣tune, wherefore his sorrow strangely increased, which Be∣rea seeing, she grew troubled, seeking (albeit in vaine) ma∣ny wayes to recomfort him: which seeing they auailed not, she went to Drohes, and discoursed all that had chaunced, a liuely cordiall that inspird with an inexpressable gladnes, so as without any tarriance, he went with hir to the a••bour where Meruine lay prostrate on the ground, beating him∣selfe with extreame languor▪ Drohes beholding the furie of his passion, though at first amazed, yet ran to him, & with true zeale o•• euer-liuing intimacie, thus kindely chid him: Ha, qd he, thou glorie of mankind, and flower of chiualrie, whither is the virtue of thy resolution fled, that th••u lendst conquest to a weeping passion: What▪ wilt thou in teares drowne thy body, & consume thy soule? Arise, arise, thou ex∣cellentest

of all creatures, and with a liuely faith in the liuing God of Abraham, aske pardon for thy sinnes, and the lambe of peace that redéemed the world, wil wipe out thy trangres∣sions, sith vnder the face of heauen, there is not so boundlesse an offender, as God in his mercy is an almightie par••••ner. When Meruine had heard Drohes, he rose vp, & kissing his hand sayd: thou balm of mine afflictions, & health to my sicke soule, O pardon mée I beséech thée, the vnlucky slaughter which on the sea I cōmitted where I slew Galien thy déere companion, the famous sonne of renowmed Oliuer, & the o∣ther christiās, otherwise I wil sauefist that hand which saue∣fisted them in duty I should haue adored. Thrice deare friēd replied Drohes) my inward soule hath forgiuen thée, and then Drohes sate downe and expounded to him many places of holy scripture, & instructed him in all the points of christi∣an religion, he declared how our sauiour had a diuine residēce in the sacred womb of the virgin Mary, and how from thence hee was deliuered, shee being both a mother and a mayd. Then how at the age of three and thirtie ye••res he suffered death and passion to deliuet mankind from the gates of hell and destruction: and the third day arising from the graue, mounted into the doores of the highest heauen from whence hee sent downe the holy spirite to inspire and recomfort his apostles. To be briefe, there was no point appertaining to saluation, which Drohes did not explane with most heauen∣ly eloquence. Berea that sate by, as soone as she had heard dis∣couered the misteries & comforts of our religion, with a con∣stant and maiesticall modestie, rose vp and sayd: beare wit∣nesse princes, that here I renounce Mahomet, Tauergant, and their Alcheron, and desire to be baptized, and imbraced for a perfite thristian. At this they all clapt their hands for ioy, & kissed the skirts of her clothing in token of reuerence.

2 Then sayd Meruine, who through Drohes instructi∣ons

was both resolued and comforted, let vs waste no more time but go and deliuer Charles the emperor. Forthwith they went, and comming into the castle, they found all our Barons heauy and sadde▪ but the emperor recomforting them with kingly resolutions. Meruine no sooner came in his sight, but falling vpon his knées, he said, Royall king of Fraunce, and all you right noble knights of Christendom, pardon me I beseech you, both mine errour and mine of∣fences, to you I will be a liege man and a subiect: to these a neuer failing friend, in the hardest aduentures, whom in signe of euer liuing amitie, I desire to kisse. Then arose he vp and kissed both the emperor and the rest, and after he declared how hee was a Christian borne, and the sonne of Oger the Duke of Denmarke. Many other discourses they had, and infinite reioycings, crying, the sonne of O∣ger is become a Christian, woe to the Pagans and their false god Mahomet. Then issued Charles and the rest out of the Castle, protesting solemnely the sacke of paga∣nisme: By my redeemer, said Charles, I will not rest, till I see the Sarazens tremble vnder Ioyous my good sword. As I am prowd of my birth and progenie (said Meruine) there is not liuing a pagan, how redoub••ed soeuer but if he refuse baptisme, he shall also refuse his life and being. This said, they went into a chamber and armed themselues. Meruine caused a cornet to be winded▪ at the so••nd where∣of, the 4000. Pagans Meruine had brought with him, assembled themselues in the base court of the pallace: vnto whom Meruine made this briefe speach. Fellow souldiers, admire not my speach but be rea••y in your resolues: My will is, that euery one of you be baptized, & become a chri∣stian, and he that refuseth, to die the death: chuse either e∣ternall life or destruction. The wonder was not little▪ that these words cast amongst them, yet what through f••are of his prowesse, and terror to behold the christians at euerie

point armed: they agreed to obey him, both in the course of life and religion. Meruine commended them, and forth with gaue them charge to range through the citie, and to put all to the sword, that refused to receiue baptisme. The christian peeres of France were their fore-leaders, that spa∣red neither man, woman nor child, that would ••ot be bap∣tized, so that in lesse than in an houres space, all Mont∣ment was wholy conuerted. These things ended▪ Charles called Meruine vnto him, and asked if he would accept at his hands the honor of knighthood. My lord qd he, it is the onely thing to which my thoughts haue a longing: then kneeling downe, Charles drew Ioyous his sword, and laying it on his shoulder bade him rise vp the most renow∣med knight vnder the firmament: only be thou stedfast in thy faith, and raise high thy god and religion. Thou earth∣ly god of Europe (said Meruine) in the maiesty of heauen, and before thy royall presence, I make a vow, there shall not a pagan moue his foote vpon the earth, if he renounce not Mahomet, and put his trust in the liuing God. And what he vowed, he effected: for his conquests against the pagans doubled his ouerthrowes against the Christians, as 〈◊〉〈◊〉 shall heare hereafter. Now had the emperor Charls, Meruine, and the p••••res of France▪ so well managed eue∣ry occurrent, that the whole citie of M••••tment was now wholy in their subiection.

3 Then was there a vessell filled with water which the Archbishop of Rheimes hauing 〈…〉〈…〉 they of the ••••∣tie were baptized therein, and the foure thousand. But before all, and aboue all, the most virtu••us princesse Berea was baptized, not by her auncient name, but by the name of Mathaburna. And when all the cere••••nies belonging to that most blessed sacrament was finished, Meruine with king Charlemaine & his peeres, made a progresse through

the realme, conuerting all to chr••••••ianitie, for not any durst gainstād Meruin whose valure in those parts was almigh∣tily ••adord▪ so as euen to the wals of Brandis, was not left a breathing pagan. After this Meruin returned again to Mōt∣ment, where he was godlike receiued of Mathaburna, who amongst other of their priuate conferences, demanded when he would 〈◊〉〈◊〉 pouse her, who returned this answer: Lady god∣desse, and ruler of my thoughts and wishes, I haue made a solemne oath in the high parliament of heauen, not to mar∣ry any creature, till I haue reconquered backe all that I haue spoiled from the christians, & haue set at absolute liber∣tie againe, the foure famous brethren and sonnes to the good king Gaultier. My lord (replied she) be all thy decrees as immoueable as desteny, and I will attend the effects of thy extremst desire. Thus wil we leaue them, king Charle∣maine and the christians, & returne to Bertran, Guion, Thierrie, and Florion, Gaultiers 4. sonnes, who as you remember, were prisoners at Damascus.

CHAP. XXX.

1 How by meanes of Guida the daughter of Baucamont, Bertran and his brothers escaped imprisonment. 2 How king Bandus daungerously assailed them, and how they maruelousty defended themselues.

YOu haue heard in the storie before, how the foure gallant sonnes of Gualtier were by Meruine, taken and imprisoned in Da∣mascus: now further in the same discourse he saieth, that Baucamont had one faire

daughter named Guyda, who with a most perfite affection was inamoured vpon Bertran, and for his sake often did re∣paire to the prison, to doe them honour and seruice, making the dayes of their induraunce like the houres of a happy festi∣uall insomuch tha•• on a time, as the brothers were in consul∣tation, they said one to another, that if they were but well armed, they would soone haue the castell at their commaun∣dement, and doubted not, but the God of h••••uen would so protect them, that themselues would make themselues lords of their owne libertie, and in this they f••••nd no impossibili∣tie, sith the Princesse Guyda smiled on them with good for∣tune. My lordes (said Huon o•• Burdeaux) I will tell you what my soule thinkes: had I but halfe the loue-sicke thoughts hanging vpon me, which I know that Princesse powreth into the ••osome of Bertran, or would she, but as priuately conuerse with me, as I know she secretly wéepeth her loue to him, I would in one naturall day deliuer both my selfe and my companions, yet without impeachment of my loue, or touch to her honour. Scarce was his last word ended but Guyda entred into the chamber, who with a modest grauity (the cloud of an impatient loue) saluted them, and de∣maunded of their welfare. Madam (said Bertran) my health is in the hand of thy mercy: and but thou giue end to my sickenesse, there is no creature can preserue me from a sodaine dying. When she heard these speeches, with a frosty blush of a little wonder, she answered, Prince, repose a while, and immediately you shall know, if helpe bee in my power. Then she went forth and called the Gaoler vnto her, whose name was Corbun, and intreated him ••o bring vnto her in∣to an other chamber the Prince Bertran▪ who was a little sicke, that she might giue physicke to his euill. The not mis∣trusting Gaoler, with lowe bowed reuerence▪ tolde her, he would performe her pleasure, and foorthwith called Bertran, telling him he must goe to the Princesse Guyda, who at∣tended

for him. The verie ioy of those wordes made him leape and caper through the chamber, whilest Huon with like shew of iollitie followed him. Then saide Bertran, Huon stay here a little till I call thée: Agréed said Huon: Then went Bertran to Guyda, and intreated that his friend Huon might participate of his phisicke, for he is not wel al∣so. Prince Bertran (said the Lady) with all my heart, so he be secret, for feare of daunger. Feare not excellent Madam (said he) for Huon is most loiall, most constant, and most re∣ligious. Then shee commaunded Corbun to bring Huon vnto her. Madam, said Corbun, I dare not, lest I bring the life of king Bandus in question. Your Ladyship is too bold in these rash aduentures, and nurse mischiefe in gracing these christians, I fear some euil wil succeed this hazard: wherfore if Bertran returne not instantly, I will reueale his being to the king and your kindred. Lady and my déere loue (saide Bertran) if not he, then I will performe thy pleasure: and in so saying, he drew néere to Corbun: to whom with his fist he gaue so mortall a blow, that he fell dead to the earth, without anie word speaking. When Guyda saw what hée had done, she tare her haire, and sorrowed without measure: but Bertran embracing her in his armes, whispered such re∣concilement into her eares, that hee appeased her passion: and they slumbered in diuine contentment▪ either from o∣ther taking the delight of long wishing heartes, and most deere was their delightes to all Christendome: for in that houre he begat on her a sonne, whose name was called Bar∣rant, who was father of Dolifern. Was there neuer creture more cruel•• or tyrannicall: for that he slewe both his father and his mother, and brought vpon Christendome lamen∣table fortunes as you shall sée hereafter. But to returne a∣gaine to Bertran: who assoone as he had accomplished his will vpon Guyda, hee returned to his brethren and saide: Princes, nowe followe mee, if you will reuenge your selues

as well vpon the Pagans, as I haue done vpon him who in these walles hath restrained vs. At this they all pressed to follow him: to whom Guyda said, Ay me Lordes, what madnesse is in your thought? alas what will you do, but o∣uerthrow you selues, and my glory? Madam (said Huon) content your selfe, I know Prince Bertran so ••xcéedingly loueth you, that no fortune can diuorce him from you, so you will renounce Mahomet, and become a Chr••stian. Lord Huon (said she) there is nothing I more desire: but it is past my capacitie, how our happinesse shalbe contriued, Madam•• (said Huon) I haue found out the meane: let vs but haue armour and weapons prouided vs▪ and there is not a Pagan liuing that shall dare to denie va passage at our pleasure. As I am true to my Lord and ••oue (said she) that shalbe effected, and then she brought them into the castle armorie, where was warre-like prouision. So they armed themselues, and desired Guyda to condu••t them into the bed-chamber of king Bandus: to which she consented. But a certaine vassall Pagan ouer-hearing them, without tarrying ranne to the kings chamber, who then was a sleepe, and beating at the doore, cried: My Lord the king, treason, treason: and thy death, if spéedily thou doest not abandon thy chamber, the Christians are in armes, who fly with wings of malice to worke thy desti••ction.

2 King Bandus hearing this rauen-song, rose vp, and calling his Nephew, said: we are betraied; let vs fly for our succour. At this they ran forth of the chamber, and came into a garden, where ••inding a little turret, they mounted into it, & thence hcried, to armes: and raised a mightie alarum, their voices sounded through all the pallaces. The christians en∣tred into the kings chamber, but could not find him. Then went they from chamber to chamber▪ and slew the Pagans, with whom they encountred: in briefe they slew in their serch

aboue an hundred persons, and then helde the castell at their owne disposing. After this they descended to the gates, and thence sallying foorth they were incountred with king Ban∣dus, who with many bands of approoued souldiers, gaue them a couragious onset▪ betweene whom beganne a sharp, fearefull▪ and bloody battell▪ but the multitude of the Pa∣gans so infinite••y increased, that the christians were inforced to retire backe into the castell, which in despight of the Pa∣gans they did: then fortifying their gales they ascended vp∣on the walles to defend them, if they should bée assaulted, which indeede was doone most valiantly on euery part, but the christians defences were so sharpe and dreadfull, that the Pagans preuailed not at all in theyr fury: Now God of his mercy be their defender, for their quarrell is iust and law∣full.

CHAP. XXXI.

How Meruine after the conquest of many citties went to Damascus to deliuer the foure brethren. 2 How Charlemaine refused Meruines company, because of Huon. 3 Of the great battell betwixt Bandus and the Christians.

SOone after that, Mermont, and the whole realme about it was by Meruin conuerted to christian religion: king Charles, the twelue péeres, together with Meruine, made their expedition into the other countries bordering

thereabout, where they conquered more then foure hundred cities and castles, bringing all to the knowledge 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Christ Iesus. Which do••e, they tooke shipping to make ••or Da∣mascus, and Meruine saide. Flie swift••y you labouring houres of the day, and bring me with double speede to Da∣mascus, that I may both confesse my errour, and deliuer from bondage my thrice excellent kinsmen, the foure famous brethren, and that renowmed Huon of Burdeaux s•• péere∣lesse in his actes of chiualry.

2 No sooner had Charlemaine ••eard him name Huon, but a mountaine of distemperature sent an ocean of angry blood into his fac••. And he said who, is then that monst••ous traitor Huon, the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 murderer of my deare sonne Charlot in Damascus too? euen by my crowne, and soule of my de∣ceased father, I wi••l bathe Ioyous my sword in his heart blood. Brother (said Gautier) will the then world adde a villainous title to thy glory, because thy selfe bra••est the co∣uenant thy selfe made. You haue banished him your ••ealme, and thence he is departed. To m•• he came for refuge, and ••o me he hath doone those immortall seruic••••, th••t whilest I breathe, I will neuer forsake him. By m•• ••••••pter (saide Charles) Gautier, thou hast euer beene 〈◊〉〈◊〉 v••to me, neither hath thy selfe, nor any of thy li••e 〈…〉〈…〉 to my procéedings: wherefore, if I b•• Charles of France, thou shalt not long raigne Gautier of Denmark•• M•• ••o∣ueraigne (said Naymes to Charles) why are you thus migh∣tily vexed? Beleeue me, Huon is a noble gentl••man, both wi••e and valiant, whom if he did you euill, forgiue h••m be∣cause it was honorable euill. But if your displeasure str••••ch beyond mittigation, yet smothe•• it in this pl••ce▪ because you are bound to reuenge it not where but in your owne kingd••••, and the rather, not now, becau••e wee are but the followers of Prince Meruine. Naymes (said Charles) thou addest ••••ell

to my fire, because thou thinkest neuer again to returne into Fraunce: but if thou doest remember, I am Charles Mer∣uine halfe angry at these ciuill debates▪ went about to ap∣pease them, but finding his labour effectlesse through Char∣lema••nes wilfulnesse, he said: My lord and emperor, sith my oratory is so harsh in your eares, know that neither for you, nor for your displeasure wil I desist or breake off the enter∣prise I haue vndertaken. And then turning about Gaultier, (who knew the Emperors anger was most against him) in∣treated Meruine once more to sollicite Charles to accompa∣ny them to Damascus: but Meruine by no meanes woulde be perswaded, but raking his colours into his owne hand, marched away without more speaking. Charlemaine on the other part who was highly inraged against Duke Naymes, and the twelue yeeres, because they forsooke him to followe Meruine, departed an other way, vowing to God and his own soule, to lay waste and ruinous, the flourishing country of Denmarke, vnlesse Gaultier on his knees came humbly to aske him forgiuenesse, and to begge part on for reléeuing the damned murderer of his sonne: In this agony of high displeasure, Charles marched so incessantly day and night, that at length he ariued at Maience, where, in despight of Gaultier, he began to burne and destroy the country: where we wil leaue him▪ and procéede with the actes of Meruine.

3 After the departure of Charles, Meruine made such expedition, that in few dayes he ariued in the country adioy∣ning to Damascus, where he began to conquer and conuert the nation til he came within the sight of Damas. It hapned that a certaine currier Pagan, who had beheld the deedes of the Christians, posted with all his power to Damascus, and comming before king Bandus, he saide: My lord and soueraigne, to armes, fo•• before the morning starre shall a∣gaine be seene in the heauens, I assure you, you shall be bid

strong and fearefull battell, a mightie army of the christians I haue discouered, whose lookes and resolutions are both stowt and valiant. Meruine, who lately hath renonnced our faction, is the formost leader, with him Gaultier, of Den∣marke, and dluers others, onely king Charles of Fraunce is absent, who (as I vnderstand) for some prinate displea∣sure hath abondoned their companies, and is returned to his owne territories. Bandus was astonished at these words and charged the Pagan vpon his life that he spake nothing, but what trueth would iustifie. My Lord (replied he▪ if I lie, let me die the death for further, Montment, and with her al∣most 200 other cities are conuerted to christianitie, euen the princesse Berea her selfe hath reuounced Mahomet, and is baptized by the name of Mathaburna. Where then (said King Bandus) is Mermont her father? At Babilon answe∣red the Pagan. This while arriued an other Pagan King named Gorbant▪ who hauing incamped his hoste in a mea∣dow, ariued himselfe at the pallace at such time as the pagan was discouering the approach of the christians. This Gor∣bant came to behold Guyda, the estimatiō of whose beautie was renowmed through al Asia, whom as soone as Bandus saw, he solemnly receiued, & the more, because he was known for the most absolute valiant pagan that thē liued, whose age then had accomplisht but thirtie: and by his means Bandus flattered his hopes with assured conquest. After diuers em∣bracings, seeming knots of true amitie, Bandus declared the cōming of the christians to besiege Damascus, & with per∣swasiue arguments intre••ted his aid, stir••ing him more with inueying against Meruin▪ who so l••••ely had renounced their god and Alcheron. ••o al his intreaties Gorbant gaue willing eare, and consented, vowing his vttermost indeuors for the release of Damas. Al things concluded vpon Ban∣dus commanded an alarum throughout the cittie, and ha∣uing assembled his men at armes together, he issued out

of the portes in warre-like maner, and ioyning his troupes with the troups of king Gorbant, made one almost impreg∣nable ar••••e. The Christians this while were on the foreside of a great wood, through which they speedily passed, and or∣dered battaile Gautier looking vpon them, and seeing the diuersitie of their ensignes, he said: Good God, what strange nations are yond that come to encounter vs? A christian hearing him, made answere▪ (for he of olde knew the coate armour he beheld) my Lord yond strange iolious you see, of my knowledge belong to king Gorbant: hee whose valour and excellent approoued prowesse, hath placed him higher in Fames bookes then my Pagan whatsoeuer: whose courage make dreadlesse of men, though he be assailed with many legions: Is it true (said Meruine) that he is so woonder∣full in the deedes of chiualrie? Nowe to God I make a so∣lemne protestation, that if I can but encounter him, I will teach him such a bloudy Letanie, that he shall willingly be∣come a christian, and bitterly curse the first houre of my na∣tiuitie: this said, they marched forward, and the Pagans likewise: to whom king Gorbant made many orations of honour valour, and incouragement, debasing Meruine, and reuiling, his backe-turning from his first knowne religion; but those railings will beate on his owne crest, and his mind will be changed if Meruine liue, and Entrant hold his ver∣tue. When the armies were readie to ioyne: a young squire named Thyerrie, came vnto Meruine, & made hu••ble pe∣tition, that for the honour of his God, he might be the first to giue the charge in that battaile. Meruine in loue with his forwardnesse, bade him passe on, and be fortunate. At that word Thyerrie thrust spurres to his horse, and comming euen vnto the face of the Pagans host, he saide: What is there neuer a Pagan amongst you, that hath the spirite of valour to incounter me (who haue contemtuously renoun∣ced your false God Mahomet, and sworne to adore no name

but the euerliuing Iesus) or trie the breaking of a lance in his religious quarrell? Traitour quoth the Pagan Trou∣lart, who was nephew to Gaifier) Behold, tis I will giue thee battell, and scourge thée for thine ouer-daring. And so saying, he disranged himselfe, and brake his launce vpon Thierrie with a gallant spirite: but Thierrie did returne him backe such an incounter, that ouerthrowing both horse and man to the ground, the Turke had neuer againe risen, if one of his fellow Sarazens had not flowne in to his res∣cue, who all at once assailed Thierrie with crueltie▪ while he defended himselfe gallantly vntill the Christians came to his succour•• then beganne the battell to be fierce and won∣derfull. The renowmed Meruine broaching the braue mare Mordant, ranged amongst the Pagans like an hun∣ger-starued wolfe, or an inraged Lionesse. Drohes with many acts of admriable chiualrie that day seconded him. There might ye haue heard such clamors, such noyse, and tempestuous outrage, as if the clouds had resigned to the earth a greater power, than the power of their thunder. In the middest of the battell Meruine met with Thierrie, the valiant son of Bourchier, whom for the valor he expressed in the first incounter, he embraced about the necke, & after kissing him, gaue him the sacred order of knighthood, say∣ing: Hapfull bloome of a happy issue, this houre I giue to thée vertue: which vertue will cease to flourish, when as it leaueth to exalt the name of Christ Iesus: and then depar∣ting from him, Thierry thrust himselfe amongest the Pa∣gans, where he shewed his dalour to be augmented by the honor he had obtained. Gaultier all this while made great slaughter of the enemies, being inflamed with a double fu∣rie: the one of reuenge for wrongs forepassed, the other of desire to sée his foure sonnes, who during this battell were in the pallace at Damascus, which by the meanes of Guy∣da, they lately conquered. Guyda, with whom Bertran in∣ioyed

all the ho••res of loues contentment: and were now recreating themselues vpon the leades of the Castle, from whence they might distinctly beare the clamors of the bat∣tell. Insomuch, that calling vp his brothers, he saide: Princes, what noyse is this I heare about the citie? Is it not like the meeting of two inuincible armies? Belieue me I cannot alittle wonder; they all admired as much. Then ascending vp higher into a heauen-kissing turret, whence they might meas••re the confines of all the country adioyn∣ing▪ they beheld the battell, and knew the ensignes dis∣played by each party. Then cried out Bertran, This day shall we be reputed shepheards, if we conceale our selues within these walles, whilest our countreymen and kin••e before the citie, for our sakes maintaine a dr••adfull bat••ell; for shame let vs issue out, or forsweare our names, and the auntient disposition of our natures. Guyda hearing this, wrung her hands, and with beteared eies (then which there could be no better Orators) besought Bertran to stay: but he euer resolued in honourable actions, made answere he would quickely returne. Bu•• Guyda from whom all hope and reliefe was exiled, would not giue credit to his words: but with teares of the bitterest displeasure could be harbo∣red in so faire a māsion, said he abused her: but if Mahound were Mahound, she would reuenge herselfe of his shameful departure. Leauing her in this agony, the princes departed easily out of the gates of the castle, because the garders of the same neither saw or heard her tormentings. And when they were passed by, the Porters would haue locked the gates, but Bertran, whose spirit was madde for his loue Guyda, with his sword drawne, c••me to the chiefest which bare the keyes, and gaue him such an vnrecouerable blow, that he fell dead to the earth. Uillaine (said Bertran) the diuell take thy soule, I will be thy Porter whilest thou ta∣kest thy rest This seene, diuers other Pagans assailed

him: but his brethren, and the valiant Huon, brought to him such powerfull rescue, that in lesse space than an houre th••y had sent thirty to sleepe with their forefathers. The pagans seeing this, fled from their violence, and they mar∣ched ••o the battell: whither as soone as they were come, they cried with one voice, Unchristned dogges, this is the doomes day, and last of your glories: and then beganne to shew the vnspeakable wonders of their high valours, with such admirable déedes of armes, that the Pagans knew them as well by their chiual••ie, as if their faces had bin ba∣red. Now ha•• they dispersed the battell, and the Sarazens beganne to turne their backes: insomuch that the young Princes beheld and knew their father Gautier; to whom they came, and falling on their faces, adored him as theyr earth-god, and second meane of creation. When Gauti∣er saw his sonnes, his vnspeakable ioy would not let him speake, onely silence was his best embassadour of boundles contentment. When Huon saw this equall contention of Natures purest loue, he brake their passions with these words: My lords, banish these slow salutes, and thinke on these deuotres. To armes the pa∣gane crie, their deathes must be our glo∣ries: that done, we shall haue time to discourse of pas∣sed fortunes. ¶

CHAP. XXXII.

1 How the Pagans were ouerthrowne, and the Chri∣stians went and conuerted Damascus. 2 How Mer∣uine went after to Babilon, where Mermont and the other Pagans for feare of him, fained to receiue bap∣tisme. 3 Then how he went to Mequa and Ierusa∣lem, and conuerted them to Christianitie.

AT this spéech of Huons, the foure brethren departed from their father, and thrust them∣selues into the battell: leauing vndying Re∣gisters of their euer-liuing renowne: Yet in the heat of the conflict there was a pagan cal∣led Gryffoy, of wonderfull great valour, and worthie eue∣ry way, except for that way, which should gouerne all wayes, all the exquisite titles of a compleat man at armes. This Pagan well taught by proofe the greatnesse of the Christians spirites, with a battle-axe which he brandi∣shed in his hand, he stroke a Christian, called Adrian, so mighty a blow, that he chined him to the breast: and after him, another, and an other, till he had laid ten breathlesse vnder him. Bertran giuing aime to this slaughter, grew so impatient to behold his countrymens effusions, that turn∣ing his sword aloft, he came and assaulted Gryffoy with so mighty a stroke crosse the helme, that cutting away his plume▪ he entred more than an inch into his beuer: and with the blow so astonished the pagan, that at that instant he had cut 〈◊〉〈◊〉 his head, if an infinit ••••mber of pagans had not in∣••ironed

him, and assailed Bertran with numberles blows, and desperate resolutions: insomuch that they forced him to recoile for his safety. Then came Huon, and diuers other christians, who retaind Bertran, and that in a lucky houre: for then was the battell most sharpe and doubtfull: there might you haue seene many knights on euery side ouertur∣ned, horses wounded, and men at their wittes end: some flying, some dying, and some amazed. The gentle knight Meruine, this while on the other side of the field, approo∣ued his valour to be strange and vnresistable: for he lost not a blow, in which death had no interest: so resolute were his proceedings, that now the pagans were at the conclu∣sion of their glories, and had beene wholy disco••fited, if the valiant king Gorbant, in that very houre had not ari∣ued with an armie▪ which by the eyes account could not be l••sse than a hundred thousand: king Gorbant marched be∣fore his army, mounted vpon the beast Montehaut, which was valued before all the hor••es in Painime: and like to lightning gaue a charge vpon our Christians, breaking their rankes, and dispe••sing their battels, so as in lesse then an houre the christians had almost lost the hope of their good fortunes▪ for Gorbant ere he brake his launce, brake the neckes of vij Christians: and with the strange valour he was adorned, so gallantly behaued himselfe, that the com∣mon sort of Christians were not able to indure him, but beganne to flie. But Meruine ashamed to see their disho∣nours, demaunded a reason for their flight. To whom one of them, whose name was Vincent, made answere. My Lord, there is newly arriued some God or diuell, in the ha∣bite of a Pagan, whose force is so vnresistable, and his blowes so huge and insupportable, that fr•••• his handes issueth nothing but our deaths and destructions. I pray thée said Meruine, with all spéed conduct me to the partie. Not for a kingdome my Lord (said Vincent) for he is alto∣gether

inuincible, and mine eies shall die if they behold him. At these words Meruine would not stay, but thrust him selfe amongst the Pagans to finde out Gorbant, who was then in the prease, and had newly incountered with knight Drohes, whom he beheld respectiuely, and the rather, for the beauty of the gallant steed Marcheuall, so that he said•• vnto him: Boy, descend from that worthy horse whereon thou art mounted, lest while I chasti•••• thy folly, I wound the horse, with whose comelinesse I am highly delighted. Drohes hearing himselfe so basely intitled, with a reuenge∣full furie ioyned himselfe to the Pagan, and strucke him thwart the helme with all the puissance he was able, yet made the Pagan moue no more than an oake or a moun∣taine: in requitall whereof Gorbant repayed him so hea∣uy an interest, that the blow slipping from his be••uer, des∣c••nded vpon the horse, and cut his head from his shoulders so that the good beast Marcheuall fell vnto the ground in a moment Drohes more astonished with wonder than with feare, lightly raised himselfe againe, & drawing his sword, said: O God, this pagan is vndoubtedly strong, who hath slaine my horse, but if I die vnreuenged, let my knighthood forsake me. This said, he ranne against the Pagan, led by a tempestuous fury, but was preuented for striking, by meanes of Monthaut, who with the thundering noyse of the horses féet, came running thither: and also at the same time came Gaultier, and sundry other Christians, wh•• with all their powers assailed Gorbant, which with so ex∣cellent resolution defended himselfe, that the slowtest strai∣ned curtesie to approach him: yet notwithstanding, in that time Drohes had so gallantly borne himselfe, that he had now recouered another most famous horse, vpon which be∣ing mounted, he came to assaile Gorbant, that euen then had brought to the ground all that incountred him, giuing such vigour vnto the dead spirites of the Pagans, that the

christians were almost amazedly vanquisht. During this homage, Meruine was on the other side of the field, where he approued his diuine excelencie of valour vpon king Ban∣dus and his army▪ whose numbers being numberles▪ stroke the beholders into admiration: whereas alas the christians were but xxv. thousand at the beginning, and now but ij. thousand at the co••clu••••on At which Meruin grieued not alitle, vowing neuer to returne, if either he got not a crown for victory, or a tomb for buriall. Then doubling strength vpon strength, he so lion-like ranged among his enemies, that euen as the corne before the shearers sickle, so ••ell the pagans one vpon an other, dead and discomfited: not to dwell long in this discourse, so immortall was his valour that the pagans were halfe dead with the astonishment of the glory.

In the end, as he ranged to and fro, he arriued in the place where Marcheuall lay slaine: which when he sawe, and knowing him both by ••is largenes and beauty, he im∣mediately imagined Drohes had there written the last end of his lifes Legend, so that not able to suppresse sorrowe growne in his breast, Giant-like almightie he cried out, alas▪ alas, art thou gone my loue, art thou dead my cham∣pion? be my life cursed, and heere vanish the praise of my knighthood, if I tyrant-like reuenge not this infinite vn∣happinesse. This said, like vnto a peale of thu••der, or to a stormy tempest in the middest of Winter, he ranne amon∣gest the Pagans, euen from one side of the field vnto the other, and where he espied the greatest number, thither flew his greatest furie, the whi••h he dispersed, so like vn∣to a forsaken flocke, that being at their wittes end, they knew not which way to turne them. In the highest of this ••urmoile, Meruine espied Bertran to be dismounted from his horse, who being on foote, maintained a more then knightly comba••e against Gryffoy, and an hundred other

Pagans, to whom aloofe he hallowed this encoura•••• ••••••▪ Beauty of thy fathers house, this day shall be th••••e h••••••rs festiuall. Take ••ourage, take courage faire Prince: for the Pagans flie dist••aught and vanquished. These cordiall spéeches so liuely vttered, inspired Bertran with such new spirites, that bearing himselfe against a Pagan, he stroke horse and man dead to the ground without word speaking. The next to him he likewise dismounted, and arresting his horse, leapt into the saddle, effecting wonders in the pagans destructions▪ who like kids from the wolfe ranue fearefull at the sight of Meruine, seeking by running, the staine of Honour, to saue that which should maintaine honor. Mer∣uine, like himselfe passed from rancke to rancke, and neuer staied till he met with king Bandus: to whom he gaue a blow, that he cleft his shield to his fist, and made it fall to the ground: which the king fearefull to recouer (death be∣ing a greater feare) betooke himselfe to flight also. Princely Meruine passed along, to find out Gorbant (the onely ex∣cellent amongst his enemies) vowing vpon him to lay the burthen of his wrath. And as he was searching, he incoun∣tred Thierry the sonne of Bouchier: vnto whom he said, Faire yong knight, knowst thou if neare hereabout, be that famous pagan, who this day had beene our vengeance and halfe destruction. O, if thou canst, shew him me, and make me happy. Follow me, said Thierrie, and then they went together, making Death their seruant smoothe their way to the place where Gorbant was, who had that day béene the ruine of the Christians. No sooner was Meruines eies fastned vpon him, but boyling with rage, he thru•••• forward to strike him: but the Pagan turning himselfe from the blow like the falling of a mountaine, it fell vpon the gentle knight Thierrie (whose ouer hastie valour bare him twixt them.) with such and so great infortunacie, that it ouer∣threw the man, yea and claue the horse into two pieces:

which to Meruine was no small griefe, who grew madde to reuenge his owne m••••••••ing: but Gorbant by that wit∣nesse, knowing his pit••ilesse omnipotencie, and séeing his army ••••ie from him on euery side, thrust his spurs against the sides of Monthaut, and in a moment was fled from the presence of Meruine, who all alone stoode wondring at his flight, and his own mischances. The pagan made his flight towardes Damascus, his burning heart desirous to haue possession of the beautifull Guyda, in whom he had placed all his affection, whom hee finding, after many embra∣ces, he mounted her on his hor••e▪ and bare her to his ships. Guyda not r••pelling much his inforcements, because as then she was offended with Bertran, both because he had most vnkindly left her, and was also one of the sonnes that had slaine her father, and the rest of her royall kinred. Thus fled king Gorbant, who met with Bandus, Gryffoy, Gri∣soner, and with ten thousand Pagans, all which, to saue their liues, were fled to the seaside, vnto whom Gorbant cried, Away princes, away, for he that is tardy in flight, shall be first and swiftest in his death. At this speach, feare lent wings to their héels, and they al imbarking thēselues, gaue their safeties to the mercy of the sea. Those which re∣mained behind, the Christians p••t to the sword. When the chase was finished, our Christian Princes went towardes Damascus to assault it, but the Citizens issuing from the portes, brought the keyes, and with submission deliuered them to their mercies, so that Meruine, Gautier, and the rest of the Christians entred, who by means of that battell were not aboue 200. After they had reposed themselues a while, Gautier called vnto him his foure sonnes, and said: Princes, know you to whom the offerings of your honour is due, or who it is that from the dayes of your vnhappi∣nesse hath restored you? beholde, it is this princely and he∣roike Meruine, th•• sonne of your renowmed vnckle duke

Oger, and then he discoursed at large to them the wonders of his prowesse, the taking of Charles, the ouerthrow of the twelue peeres, and al their imprisonments. To be short, he ran through all the chronicle of Meruines heroicall acti∣ons, and how Charles discontentedly was returned into France for the hate of Huon. Huon hearing that word, as rackt with his owne infortune, he said: O God, when shal the houre come to bind me in perfit peace with that famous emperor? Huon hauing thus said, he, Gautier, & the foure brethren did honor to Meruine, who returned them praise for praise, thanks for thanks, vowing to aide them against their enemies. Thus was the ioy vnspeakeable among the Christians, making houres like minutes vanish by theyr pleasures. Next morning, Meruine caused all the citizens of Damascus to be christned, and whose refused, to be put to the sword. This done, he caused all the countrey adioyn∣ing, to come in, and be baptized: whereto all the nobles ac∣corded. These things finished, Meruine called Florion, and said: Cosin, for thy beauties sake, I giue thée this cittie of Damascus, and the whole realme about it, accept it kindly, as I giue it willingly: and then he made all the nobles and citizens sweare homage and fealtie to his Crowne▪ and for a gard to his person, left him those 200. Christians, which the sword had preserued, mustering for himselfe out of the citie and country two thousand that hardly before had born armes.

2 After that nights repast in the citie, Meruine, Gau∣tier, and the other princes departed from Damascus, and marched to a village two leagues from Babilon, where re∣mained Mermont. Gaudisse, who by many intelligences knew al the famous déeds of Meruin, and how he was then come to besiege them, of which they stood in feare, called a counsell together, where they disputed what way was best

for their safeties: Princes said Mermont, our arguments must be briefe, and out resolutions spéedy, for otherwise we shall lose our inheritances with our disputations, and our liues by flouthfulnes, for well we know Meruine is wise and inuincible: for my owne part, to mee hee did the grea∣test indignity, though I were the first that made mountai∣nous his honor, for he hath slaine my men, baptized my daughter, yea, and will espouse her, if heauens preuent n••t my disgraces: yet so I know him replenished with true fortitude, that it is impossible to withstand him, if treason be not an agent of our deliuery. Tis true qd Gotham, who was newly ariued in that city, it behooues vs to search out any mean for the restitution of our God and religion. The meane qd Mermont, I haue already inuented, and we wil all be reuenged so, that babes vnborne shall speake of his miserie, and this it is: we will all hang forth the ensignes of peace, and submissiuely yéeld to his pleasure, bow at his féet, and flatter him with fained obedience: we wil conclude against our religion, and take vpon vs that they call Chri∣stianitie: and that he may the lesse mistrust vs, shalbe pro∣claimed through the city, our conuersion: what will of this insue, shalbe his ruine. The pagans applauded this resoluti∣on, so they arose, and hauing effected what they would, took the keys of the city, and marched forth with great ioy towards Meruine, who so soone as he sawe Mermont and thother, he turned to Ga••tier and said: Behold with what ioy the pagans approch vs, bearing in theyr hands witnes∣ses of peace: How blessed is this conquest that is without effusion, and how glad am I they are so easily conuerted? Alas his innocency thought not of the treason they had in∣uented. By this they were come eyther to other, whilest the Pagans falling vpon their knees before Meruine cried, Welcome, O ten times happily welcome is Meruine, the sonne of inuincible Oger into this country. Then bespake

Mermont: Thou most wise▪ most strong, and valiant Prince, liuing in this or the immortall world, beholde, we fall downe before thée, ready to receiue and acknowledge thy law and rel••igion euery one most desirous of that cele∣stiall happinesse, who already haue renounced Iupiter, A∣pollo, and Mahomet, vnder whose shadows we haue bin miserably conducted. When Meruine heard these words, he was ioyfully co••tented, more than at any time before he had bin, thinking that came from sincerity, which indéed was nothing but treachery: wherefore imbracing euerie seuerall prince in his armes, seuerally he said to Mermont: neuer did your Highnes your selfe so glorious reputation, as in belieuing in the immortall God immaculate Christ Iesus. And sith you haue made me the blessed workeman of this high dignitie, henceforth, as I haue euer bin, holde me for your owne knight and true subiect. Many other ce∣remonies was betweene them: and then they marched on to Babilon, whose walls were repleate with ioy, triumphs, and banquetting. Then was a solempne festiuall held, and the Temples most sumptuously adorned. Then was Mer∣mont and all the other pagan Kings baptized, who vnwil∣lingly went willingly to the sacrament, comforted onely with treason and false infidelitie.

3 When al the kings and citizens in Babil••n were bap∣tized, Meruine went thence to M••qua, where in an houres space he caused all the country to be bapt••zed. Which done, he went to Ierusalem, where easily he accorded all the citi∣zens: for albeit they were conquered, yet they had not for∣saken chr••stian rel••gion only doubtfull at the first, not kno∣wing Meruins conuersion they fained to adore Mahomet, but knowing his will, they soone cast away that base belée∣uing. These things thus effected, the gentle Meruine re∣turned to Babilon, & made all the country bordering there

about become Christians: and whatsoeuer before time he had grafted in hell, seeking paganisme: for ioy whereof the Christians made many holy daies, singing hymnes in his honour, protesting him to be the renowmedst that ere was borne of a mother. But on the contrary part, Mermont lay working his imaginations, how to worke vengeance on him whom the heauens so excéedingly loued.

CHAP. XXXIII.

How by treason Mermont brought Meruine to Minor. 2 How Gautier after the departure of Meruine went with al his army to Montment, where he found Ma∣thaburna, to whom he tolde how her father was be∣come a christian. 3 How Mermont spake to Butor to imprison Meruine.

IT hapned after Easter, that on a certain day king Mermont resolued to worke mischiefe on Meruin: and calling him to him, to blind∣fold his eyes, he said: Sonne, it is not vn∣knowne to me thaffections twixt thee & my daughter, the which is an vsuall ioy to my imaginations:

wherefore sith no better good can make better my happines, I beséech thée let me know the day of thy espousalls, a day, than which nothing is more desired. My soueraigne king, said Meruine, let the day be at your Highnes disposing: and if it so seeme pleasing, let vs to morrow rather than to day passe to that des••red coniunction. Willingly (qd Mer∣uine: yet before, of necessitie we must go to Minor vnto the Queene my sister whom by a solemne oath I haue gi∣uen assurance, that I will my selfe in person come to inuite her to those gorgeous nuptialls, because my daughter hath euer bin most deare in her regarde and estimation: as for your army, that may K. Gautier conduct before to Mont∣ment, and take order for all preparation worthy in so great a solemnity. Well hath your Maiestie said (quoth Mer∣uine) let euery thing be so disposed, and in the morning they and we will take our seuerall iournies. Willingly qd Mermont, imagining with himselfe to bring Meruin to a place whence he should neuer be restored. After this Mer∣uine called Gautier, to whom he told his resolutions, in∣treating him to conuey his army to Montment, his soule to his Ladie and Mistris, and his happinesse into her bo∣some. Gautier at the first stoode amazed, and besought him not to bee too much too trusty: and Drohes tolde him hee was suspitious of some euill, vnder this extreame familia∣ritie. But Meruine, who adiudged euery thought by his owne thinking, perswaded them otherwise, insomuch that Gautier, his wife, his sons, Huon and Drohes, together with the army, imbarked themselues for Montment: and Mermont, Meruine, and a troup of traiterous confederats likewise took shipping for Minor, Fortune being so fauou∣rable to mischance, that in short time they came to their wi∣shed landing.

2 Then mounting vpon their horses, they took the way

that led to the city, in which we will leaue them and return to Gautier, and the other christians, who doubtfull of the mischiefes that followed, made such haste▪ both by land and sea in their iourney, that in short time they came to Mont∣ment, where they found the miracle of Nature Mathabur∣na, who reioyced at their comming. But when her eyes were not halowed with the sight of Meruine, her ioy con∣uerted to teares, and she demanded of Gautier, where hir loue, her life and substance remained: forth with Gautier reported how her royall father was baptized, and consented to her espousalls: to which end, he and Meruine were gone to Minor, to fetch her aunt to be a glory to the festiuall. When Mathaburna heard this, that her father was bap¦tized, she praised God: but in that he had carried her loue to Minor ••hence issued doubts, feare and suspitions: and wo is me, it was not without strong reason, for the place was dreadful and impregnable, the description wherof follows, as is set downe in stories Minor, as antient Chronicles do testi••••e, from whence this historie is deriued, is very strong∣ly situate: It hath at the foure corners foure most high rockes or promontories, of which, one excéedeth all the o∣ther in height and hugenesse, from whence descendeth a mightie riuer named Orbe, most wonderfull déepe, rough, and contageons, it is guarded vpon each side with a cou∣ple of rockes, betweene which euery one must passe to the citie, by a narrow way but fiue foote in breadth at the ex∣treamest, neither is there any way saue that onely: the hi∣story saith, that in the time of king Pharao, these rocks and this riuer were made by Magike art, and this city named Minor founded as a thing impregnable: for it hath before the entraunce foure ports or passages strongly garded, the first is Auster, and it hath a Pagan named Auroufe, fell & powerfull continually to defend and kéepe it. Oueragainst it is an other of the same strength, defended by one euen as

strong and sufficient. The third is of a more terrible fa∣shion than these: for the gates are of yron, and next it a to∣wer, whose height séems to touch the heauens. After one hath passed that gate, whose name is Tombare: they en∣ter into Minor, a beautifull citie, washed vpon euery side with the riuer Orbe. Mermont and Meruine, by this time were passed through the first port, who was much a∣bashed to behold so strange a passage, and such workes of wonderfull resistance demanding diuers questions of their hugenesse: in the end they incountred with Auroufe, who knowing Mermont since the bringing of his sister into those parts, let him passe in peace, and Meruin also. Thence they came to the second gate called Baucair: which when Meruine saw▪ he demaunded what diuell of diuelish waies that was, and when they should come to the city; Faire son (qd Mermont) you are abashed at the••e entrances: yet be content, and we shall easily ouerpasse them. Then they went till they came to T••mbar the last port, whose ghast∣ly proportion made Meruine wonder more than before: and demaunded what fury of hell had exalted that Tower to threaten heauen, sure it must néeds fall, it cannot long ind••re. Yet (said Meruine) for that the masonary is both strong and exquisite: and the rockes of each side as suppor∣ters do maintaine it. By my soule (said Meruine) this is a vilainous situation: for I see not any way to issue or enter but this only. ••is true qd Mermont. Neither is there a∣ny creature whatsoeuer, that enters within this portcullis, that can repasse without the leaue of king Butor, or Gaia∣my his sister. This said, they came to the yron gate, tho∣row which they passed, al the porters doing them great re∣uerence. Thus farre hauing go••e, they came into the fai∣rest and honourable city: which to behold, Meruine migh∣tily reioyced, because till then he went in worse than starre∣light. A certaine pagan went before to king Butor, telling

him the approch of Mermont▪ wherefore he arose t•• go méet him, but his son Marant would not but withdrawing him∣selfe into a priuate chamber, sat musing what occasion should drawe thither his vncle, one while he thought he was come to take vengeance vpon him for the treason he had commit∣ted against Meruine at Montment: for which Drohes had slaine Calix in combat, as was before written: other-whiles he did imagine other occurrentes: but the traitor Mermont, as false as himselfe was faultie, hadde not one thought so néere a kinne to honestie for only his comming w••s to doe endamagement to Meruine, because he adored the true god, and renounced their false prophet Mahomet.

3 Now was Mermont come into the court euen to the kings pallace, where he found Butor and diuers of his Barons that were come forth to greete him. Kingly was their encounter on both sides, and much ceremonious the large∣nesse of their accomplishings. Then came the quéene, be∣ing, sister to Mermont, betweene whom were straite & déere embraces: with her was also her daughter, one o•• beauties best superlatiues▪ na••ed Singlay: to her was Mermont kinde and full of obseruance. Gratulations finished, to the test••monie of welcome, entred, and the pallace rung with clamours of delightes and contentment. Supper by this time was readie and royally serued, where full bowles▪ and rich accates adorned entertainement When supper was en∣ded and musicke came in and the gallantes of the court be∣tooke them to da••nsing, amongest them Meruine t••king Singlay, daunsed with her a stately measure: during which heauenly motion, Mermont, Butor, and the queene, ••el•• a solempne (though damnable) counsell, about the ruine of the euer to be regarded Meruine, Mermont auowing the oc∣casion of his comming, to be for nothing▪ but to beholde his vtter destruction: and thence he dilated his bringing vp, and

a duentures, his conquestes, triumphes: and lastly, his backsl••ding f••ō Mahomet, whom before he had adord, with∣al affirming his valiance so boundles, and not to be resisted, that he would soone sub••ert the whole estate of their religi∣on. Therefore good king a••d my brother, said Mermont) it not behoueth (to whom Mahomet hath giuen power of con∣trolement) to imprison him and k••••pe him safe from further defacing of his templ••s. But if by anie maanes he wil again be conuerted to our faction: then assure thée, so strange is his resolution, that we shall be monarches both of Fraunce and all Christen dome, with most easie aduentures. All this while Meruin was dauncing without thought of infidilit••e: courting most honourably the beautifull Singlay, whose heart with his excellencie was euen then made a receptacle of loues brightest fire, and she was inflamed with his loue: so much preuailed the gift Galliana had giuē him at his first bearing. Thus we will leaue to speake of them, and pursue the discourse of Mermont and Butor.

CHAP. XXXIIII.

1 Huon Meruin was most traiterously imprisoned, and the description therof. 2. How by the persuasion of Mermont. Butor went with 100000. Pagans to Mont∣ment. 3. How Minea aduertised Gautier and the other Christians.

WHen Butor had vnderstoode the vttermost of Mermonts intreaties, hee replied, my déere brother, touching the actions of this vassall, be you as guardlesse, as I am fearelesse: for this night when he is laide to his rest, & w••arinesse

shall summon sleep vpon his eie-lids, with a band of men he shalbe strongly assailed, bound and conueied into a care-kée∣p••••g dungeon, which sometime was founded by a ••oniurer diuell, and diuels commander, named Mutafier, where he re∣mained 200. yeares as I haue heard credibly reported, be∣cause he sought to supplant the wise Merline, and frame the world to his owne liking, into this vast place of misery for vengeance Merlin damned him: in which there is nothing but horror, feare and desolation, the botomlesse riuer Orbe making his current ouer the roufe of the wofull mansion: in∣to this, if once the vassall come, there is no redemption, nor hath any creature power of deliuerāce▪ for so Merlin inchan∣ted it, who bound the diuelish Mutafier beyond the power of all other coniuration: till such time, that by bloudy vow, and execrable protestation he sware euer to beat his hest and commandement, not daring to wrong body or soule, without his authoritie. And then was Mutafier inlarged, and euer af∣ter made frée from that dungeon. Into this place shall this Meruine be conueyed: neither will I rest till I sée it fullie brought to passe and finished. After all reuels were en••ed, torches wer brought to cōuey the princes to their lodgings: so euery one seuerally departed; and Meruine was brought into a most sumptuous chamber where after he was laid, and had lockt vp his eie••lids with a swéete slumber, thirtie Sarazens entred his lodging, and armed not so much with courage, as the sleep▪ death-like sprinkled vpon him, at once assailed him, and bound him hand and foot, and blindfolded his eies. At which Meruin awaking was mightily amazed, but not knowing any remedie, was patient forcibly. Then began the vassals of shame to remile him, saying: Traytour thou shalt curse the time that euer thou renoūced Mahomet, or bathed thy sword in the blood of a pagan: for hence springs thy ruine, and their delieuerie. Then came Butor, who caused him to bee cast into the fore-mentioned Dungeon,

where he was chained by the handes and féete, and receiued his iudgemēt, that he should neuer be frée from that calami∣tie, till ••e renounced the eternall God of the Christians. 〈◊〉〈◊〉 which he made answere: Taritours, and no kings my God will I neuer forsake for affliction: neither shal my life indure to thinke wearisome these torments which I ind••re for my Sauiour, whose loue I will not leaue for all the worlds tri∣umphs, my soule being deare for these deare oppressions. At this Butor departed, leauing Meruine accompanied with none but sorrowe onely, with whome hée consor••ed the space of fiue yeeres in extreame miserie. Now was the gift giuen by Gratiana at his birth fully accomplished, and hee pent in that prison where teares were pittilesse though inces∣sant: after many bemonings he made his prayers vnto God, & besought him to haue mercy on his af••••ictions. Then came the deuill Mautafier, and transforming himselfe into many likenesses, tempted him wieh damnable protestations, pro∣mising if he would renounce his baptisme, to redeeme him from his wofulnesse. But his faith resolued was euer im∣moueable, so that Mautafier ••eeing his perseuerance, left to expostulate with more temptation. Heere we will leaue to speake more of him, or his wretchednes, and discourse a little of Morgua his mother, of Meruina his godmother, & Gali∣ana, that princeliest Fairies that gouerned in Faeria, whose griefe abounded for the imprisonment of Meruine, inueying most mightily against Gratiana, whose gift made him sub∣iect to this infortune. After many complaints Morgua sayd to the other ladies: Princesses, you vnderstand the wretched∣nes of my sonnes case, euen for vertues sake consent to swee∣ten some ho••re of his bitternesse, with delight which I haue deuised. We three will take ech of vs an instrument of musicke, and go into his dungeon (the cloister of carefulnes) euery day an houre, at such time as Mautafier shalbe absent, and with some chanson of delicacie minister ioy among his

sorrowes, concealing our selues from his eies, onely inri∣ching his eares with melodie. To this the Ladies gaue a frée consent: so that doing accordingly, they entred vnseene into the prison. At whose approch, a most strange light spred through the dungen, in so ample maner, as it there had bin an hundred torches burning. At which diuine action, Mer∣uine was woonderfully amazed: Amazed only to sée that he saw ••othing. Iustantly after the light, the Fairies began to play heauenly notes (the moouing aire of celestiall mu∣sicke) that it was impossible for sorrow to abi••e where such sacred tunes were recorded: and he in whom languor p••o∣tested to haue tenu••e of fee-simple, prooued the ••lea ••alse: and that at all he had in him no interest. Afte•• they had thus plaied, and Meruine had shakt handes with extre••••••••e, they returned to their owne habitation, not ••ayling 〈◊〉〈◊〉 day th••s inuis••bly to visite him, to the high amazment of his sences.

2 But againe to returne to the traiterous king Mer∣mont: I•• chaunced that he came to king Butor, and in most earnest maner in••reated him to muster vp his people: and with the greatest power he had to march with him to Mont∣ment, for that there lay Gautier of Denmarke, his foure sonnes, and almost all the floure of Christendome, in expec∣tance of Meruine, whom vnawares they might ouer••hr••w and bring ••o finall destruction. ••o this Butor agreed (for ill by ill is easily tempted:) and forthwith cōmaunded Com∣missions to be sent abroad, for the gathering togither of his power. When there was assembled to the number of an 100000, he armed them a••d departed from Minor, trauel∣ling so restlesly both by land and by sea, that in twentie dayes he came to Brandis, and by the will of God, the au∣tho•••• of happie fortune, the two false meaning kinges lod∣ged in the house of Minea, where they held a solempne and

tedious councell howe they might enter Montment, and in despight of Meruine put to sword Gautier, and the rest of the Christians. All which disputations came to the eares of Mynea, who drawing aside the Lord Chamberlaine of king Mermonts houshold, in humble-maner intreated of his lord∣shippe, to know where, or what was become of the most fa∣mous••Meruine. Madam (sayd the noble man) he is inclo∣sed in a place from whence hee shall neuer finde deliuerance. And then (as if he were with child of those troubles) he dis∣coursed all the estate of infortunate Meruine, both the reuo∣ca••ion of his first religion, his true parents, and kingly pede∣grée, his conquests and vnluckie betraying, and withall, how the most principall of his aliance were gathered together at Montment. expecting the espousals betweene him and Be∣rea, and how the king his maister, and Butor, meant to pre∣nent them with a sudden and vnlookt for slaughter.

3 When Minea, not without sighes, had heard him com∣ment of these actions, shee smiled, least her lookes should be blabbes of her intentions: and then taking leaue, departed from him, and went to her chamber, where immediately she indited a letter, that conteined what her eares had receiued: and deliuering it to a most trustie messenger, gaue him espe∣ciall charge to beare it to Montment, vnto Barbin the mar∣chant. All which the messenger effected, not ceasing till hée came vnto the kings pallace in Montment, where finding Barbin, hee sayd: Reuerent sir, to you I am sent, from the vertuous Ladie Minea, that so intirely loueth Meruine, and from her present these lines to your iudgement. When Mathaburna heard him name Meruin, she started, and in∣quired what tidings. To whom Barbin made no replie, but deliuered the letter to Gautier, who read it: which conteineth this that followeth.

❧ To the Princes of Christen∣dome▪ health▪

KNow (excellent Lordes) from me vn∣comfortable Ladie, that in vaine we ex∣pect the returne of most absolute Mer∣uine, whom hencefoorth I feare againe you shall neuer see, the griefe whereof is burdenous to my weary soule. And further, be aduertised, that it behoueth you to stand vpon your best guard; for that foorthwith you shall be infinitely assailed by an hundred thousand Pagans, conducted by Mermont, and Butor of Tabarie, who solemnely haue sworne your death on their religious Alche∣ron: looke then to your selues, and loue her that in dangered her life to do you seruices.

Minea of Brandis.

VVHen Gautier had read the content•• of this letter, than at that instant he was nere more vehement∣ly perpl••xed, tearing his garments, and making de∣spaire and wrath one intire bodie: but better to be resolued, hee asked the messenger if certainely those ti••ings of mise∣rie were true or no. Yes my good Lord, replied he, and the mightie host is euen now at Brandis. Then arose Iacob and saide; Princesse I am a witnesse of the incomparable loue the Lady Minea bare to exquisite Meruine: where∣fore I knowe shee writes nothing but truthes feareful∣nesse. The beganne euery one to sorrowe for Meruin:

but farre aboue all and beyond conceit, were Mathaburnas lamentations, who wringing her handes, breaking the gol∣den threades of her celestiall haire, and the sacred vestures, that shrouded the paradise of her features, shée cried: O sorrow▪ immortall sorrow, what shall I demaund? miserie, or death? both are too little. True God, in whom my faith so lately is grounded, giue counsaile to my woes, for my heart is lost: O more my life, nay most my spirite, nay a∣boue all that, the most swéete, most wise and, most louely creature ••f the world. Harke heauens what I vow before you, if his loue faile, my loue shall haue ending: for but him, not any shall harbour in my conceites: if he die, I die: if hée liue, he shall finde me such as he left me. Thus tormented she her selfe: but alas, such are her hard starres, that before she sée him, she shalbe compelled to die, or denie her religion, which indeede she did: yet it was but womans faintnesse, as heere∣after shall be at large declared.

FINIS