The second part of the Myrror of knighthood Containing two seuerall bookes, wherein is intreated the valiant deedes of armes of sundrie worthie knightes, verie delightfull to be read, and nothing hurtfull to bee regarded. Now newly translated out of Spanish into our vulgar tongue by R.P.

¶The worthie Knight Rosicleer finding Brama∣raunt giuing vp the ghost, after he was dead, did entombe his corpes neere vnto a Pineapple tree, wherein he did ingraue an Epitaph. Cap. 2.

THE last pang & deadly gaspe that the va∣liaunt Tartarian yeelded, béeing distressed betwéene lyfe and death, was ouerheard by noble Rosicleer, who by chaunce (pursuing him and his brother) repaired to that place where the Moore lay wallowing: & aiming very well by his sorrowfull sighes, that he indured heapes of passions, rained his horse towards that way where hée heard so shrill these gronings, and staieng a while to heare his pitiful complaints, laid himselfe squat vpon y^e ground, not far frō whence y^e dead pagan lay imbrued in his blood. And wondering howe so déepe a riuer might chaunge his coulour by the losse of the bloud of one man, began to toss•• the dead corpes vp and downe, presuming in himselfe, that rather the passion of the minde or the weight of his armor then anie deadly blowe that he had receiued, had brought him to this extremitie. In the end, séeing his visage so be∣smeared with bloud, as he coulde not trulye gesse what Knight hée might bée, insomuch as he neuer sawe him but in his Beauer. Héerevppon hée wondred greatly, partlye to sée that this Knight was so strong timbered, but principally to sée his sterne and sowre countenaunce. And by as much as he could gather by his foresayde com∣plaints, he imagined him to be the executioner of his owne bodie. He pausing somwhat in a mase, in viewing this la∣mentable slaughter of Bramarant, without moouing his eyes either one waie or other, vntill in the ende he looked vp, béeing greatly afflicted in his minde, and déeply sighing, cast his eies that waie where the Moore his armour laie strawed as you haue alreadie hearde, and séeing them to be so greate and strong, he went about for to péece and lay them all in order, which thing being done, he knew by the deuice ingraued in them, that this was Bramaraunt the More, which lay thus murthered. His stout heart coulde not brooke this sorrowfull Sacrifice, but in considering

of the miserable ende which did befall vppon this Tartari∣an, he coulde not but shedde from his eyes some trickeling teares, saying:

O wretched worlde, what booteth so much the mightie limmes and excéeding forces of any man, when as thou with thy smooth and flattering face, doest drawe them at last that follow thy course▪ to such a wretched end, and at the pinch of all their pangs thou forsakest them. O Bramarant, Bramarant, whose forces did resist the mightie Grecian armie, the incomperable strength of my brother, the tried knight of the Sunne, and hast not had power to suppresse thine owne outragious passions. Alasse thy va∣lour and noble courage did require, naye rather deserue, more glorie, and more guerdon then this. Thy strong and fast knit members did merit to be entombed in a more rich Sepulchre, then in this weat and small sandes, and God knowes, neuer deserued to be a pluming stocke to the ra∣uenous Fowles of the ayre. What did mooue thée, O most vnhappie amongst all men, to make thy angrie arme be∣reaue thée of thine owne lyfe? It coulde bée nothing else I am sure, but thy surpassing great pride: What did moue thée to this vntimely death, as it well may be tearmed, sith thy fortune hath beene such, I will not suffer thy bodye to bee pulled in fitters with hungrie beastes and rauenous Harpies, neither will I sée thine armour dispearsed in such sort, without bestowing vppon thée the due desert of ho∣nour, which are sufficient witnesses of the sacrifice of thine owne bodie, and a testimonie of that which thou diddest offer vp to thy Gods, by sprinkling the pleasaunt ••ieldes and greene grasse with such a crimsin coulour.

And after hauing thus pittifully bewayled the Moore, hée tooke his helmet, and pulling out the murthering dagger, which was nailed close to the hiltes in his bodie, he digged a déep graue therewith, wherein was inter••ed the miserable bodye of the vnfortunate Tartarian. Likewise he did hang the ar∣mour vpon a verie faire and high Pine apple tree, which was néere vnto his graue, and with the point of his

Daggar did ingraue this Epitaph in the rinde of the Tree.

This Pine with stretched armes oreshades a valiant knight, Whose bodie heere interred lie••, and Bramarant he hight: In strength and feates of armes, he most men did surpasse, A Pagan borne, his natiue soile and land Tartaria was. His owne right hand, a wofull case, himselfe did slay, And rēt his heart which neuer was subdude before that day Trebatios sonne first there this mightie More hath found, Twixt life and death, and with his hands ingrau'de him in this ground. A Monument too base vnfitting his degree, Whose bloud & acts in tombe of gold interd deserud to be▪ In this faire growing pine for honour of his name, He did ingraue these lines, to be a record of his fame. And placed his armour heere, forbidding anie Knight, To take it hence, vnlesse he be as stout as he in fight. And who so shall it weare, must warres continue still, With Grecian Lordes, as Bramarant did, this standeth for my will.

Nowe hauing finished this péece of worke, he sayde:

Pardon mee valiaunt Moore, I beseech thee, because at this time & in this place I do not attribute so much honour to thée as thou deseruest: yet I doo promise thée by the faith of a Christian knight, to fulfill euerie point in this Epi∣taph, (I esteeme so much) though it bée done with the losse of my lyfe. And to make the more assuraunce of this my promise, I vowe that no yeare shall passe, but tha•• I will come to visite thy Sepulchre, to see and knowe who hath beene so hardie and ventrous, as to thinke himselfe wor∣thie to carrie away thy heroycall armour.

And in speaking these and such other lyke wordes, hée did not forget to mingle them with some trickling teares, his couragious heart was so tormented in meditating

of the lamentable ende of this desperate More. Hauing finished his talke and trauaile, without longer abode, he mounted vpon his cours••r, and directed himselfe thorough the thickest of the Wood, determining alwayes to accom∣plish y^t which he promised, although it did import so much in it, as the weight of his life, as you shall perceiue héere∣after. This valiaunt knight continued not without greate griefe of minde, in remembring the order of y^e death of Bra∣marant, which did continually occupie his memorie. And as he went thus drowned in sudde•• of sorrowe, he knew not, neither cared he which way his horse did carrie him, vntill the darknesse of the night surprised him, so that hée coulde not passe anie further, wherefore hée was constrayned to light from his horse to walke on foote, and to remaine in that place all Night, wherefore hée vnbrideled his horse, and gaue him libertie to féede on the swéete grasse, (whereof he had great néede) hauing endured much trauell before. He likewise vnlaced his helmet, and laying it vn∣der his head in steed of a pillow (being a course bolster for an Emperours sonne) rested his werie lims vpon y^e gréene medowe. And thus beeing alone and solitarie, he could not suspend the remembraunce of those passions, which the day before he had passed. Also those conceites did call to account more sorrowes, & made him to be gréeued for his long ab∣sence from his best beloued Oliuia, whose beautye hée intertained so déeply in his minde, as neither time, place, nor any fortune whatsoeuer, could seperate hir from his good opinion. Nourishing his minde with this swéete pas∣sion, he continually tossed too and fro: and in the ende, sée∣ing the bright shining Moone, & fixing his eyes vpon it, hée began to contemplate the diuine power of almightie God, not wondering also a little, how that y^e heauens were beau∣tified with golden stars, and how the greate Architector of the world, had setled euerie one in his due and con••enient place, which ingendered a greate confusion in his minde. These cogitations summoned him to sléepe, wherein hée

had not taken long rest, but y^t he heard on his le•••••• hand a harmonious sound of some musical instrument, & therwith all so pleasant and Angelicall a voyce answerable to the same, y^t he supposed it to descend frō y^e heauens. The prince start vp, and softly went through the darke thicket••es, to the end he might approch the more néerer, therby to be per∣taker of that celestiall musicke, but he was hindered of his iourney, for that Dianas brightnesse was eclipsed with a Clowde: wherefore then lifting vp his eyes, hée might discrie vnder a broade Pine apple trée, a certaine Lady sit∣ting vppon a quishion of blacke veluet, embrodered with diuerse pretie knots of golde, whom he supposed to be that Ladie, with which her diuine harmonie delighted his trou∣bled spirits, her faire & yeolow haire vntied, and hanging downe beneath her eares, did rest vpon her comely shoul∣ders, in such séemly sort, and so long, that some part therof touched the black veluet cloath, which did séeme with their golden colour to represent some golden embleme, wouen in the same cloth. She had before hir Christalline breast, a goodly Lute, whereon she played (as you haue hearde) this swéete musicke. There waited vppon her person nine faire damosells, arraied all alike, with gownes of blacke veluet, & on her one side ther lay prostrate a lustie & strong knight well proportioned in bodie, and tall, harnessed in a blacke Diamond armour, without anye other deuice, who was verie attentiue to the musicke, which the faire Ladie did sing: the tenor of the which is comprised in these vear∣ses following.

STraine forth a voice conformed to my hart, and let my fingers heauie stops applie: Whilest that my tongue in words bewray such smart, as who them heares, maie knowe in life I die. Foules, beasts and wormes, that neighbor neere this place, All in your kindes, assist my wofull case.

Yea euen the fish that in this riuer dwell, whose cleere sweet streames my teares haue bitter made, Will stay to heare the processe which I tell, the Nymphs also that haunt this grouie shade: And Ecko eke, full glad of such a mate, Will in my words bemone hir passed state.

I loue (aye mee) whereby my ioyes I lost, and am not lou'd, wherein fresh griefe I finde: Prowd Tyrant thou, with shame thy conquest bost, thy faith, my fame, staind by thy cruell minde, Who gotst with guile the guard of my good name, And leau'st me now to ransacke of defame.

Cannot my face where nature prints her praies, thy liking draw her A.b.c. there to know, My haires excell bright Phoebus golden raies, my eyes more cleare then starres in frost that show. My cheekes likewise, for perfect white and red, resemble bloud that in the snowe is shed.

The rest vnnamde doth match all these likewise, but lo my faith my forme too farre doth passe, Yea, forme and faith he shunnes and doth despise, whom ceaslesse I pursue from place to place: Whereby though ofte my tender lims I tire, My will yet fresh, through hope and sweete desire.

She made an ende of hir song with a pitifull sigh, and letting hir lute fall out of hir hand, with a trembling voice shée saide.

O Prince Zoylus, if thou diddest or wouldest knowe the greate trauaile that this carefull Damoisell susteyneth for thy onely cause, I doo verily thinke, that al∣beit thou hadst tasted of the water of the inchanted well of Merlin, yet could it neuer worke such effect in thée, as to

make thée carelesse of my torments, sith they are so sharpe, and I haue sustained them so long.

These words were no sooner vttered by this sorrowfull la∣dy, but presently, the knight start vp, who was laid downe close by the Lady, and could not be quiet, vntill he had an∣swered hir thus.

What breath hath loue made in your breast, most delicate damosell? how hath he subdued you with his blinde force, vnlesse the great disdaine and discon∣tentment that the Tartarian Prince sh••wed you doo op∣presse you, I know not why you should complaine: why shuld not you quite his discurtesie with like disgrace? why should you not make him tast of y^e sower which séemes so bitter to you? You sent for me (you know) to come into Greece, onely to be reuenged of his crueltie: and how of∣ten haue you wished his head as a Sacrifice in respect of his contempt? And how comes it now to passe, y^t in your songs he is remembred with such affection, thought vppon with such plain••s, and called vpon as a diuine creature? Be∣léeue mée and doubt not of it (good madame) if Fortune be so fauourable to assist mée in my purpose, I will in such wise contriue these matters, that you shall neuer haue a∣nie occasion to lament his lyfe, neyther yet to suspect that he doeth bestowe his good will and liking vpon some other Ladie.

The afflicted Dame notwithstanding all these his comfortable speaches, could not strip her selfe of any part of these excéeding sorrowes, which so déeply did sting her, wherevppon shée aunswered him in this order saying.

Prince of Mesopotamia, I sayle euen nowe betwéene two doubtes, whereby I doo not onely doubt, but am al∣so perswaded my shipwracke is harde at hande. For if I become so frowarde, as to enuie him whome I wish to bée my friende, or that I haue so cankered a minde as to séeke to destroie him whome I loue so well, what might be sayd of me otherwise then of a fained louer, and cruell ho∣micide: againe, if on the other side I pardon his death,

whose life and disdaine bréeds me this sorrow might argue too much pitie without desart. Alasse, what lucke had I, that loue should intrude himselfe so forcibly into my poore hart, and gouerne there as chiefe Lorde, and could he not haue battered the breast of Zoylo, whose de••ence in resisting had bene more strong then mine, but the weakest must to the wall, and the least able must beare the heauiest burthen. How gladsome would that daye be vnto me, wherein I might sée my Knight abandon his straungenesse, and ex∣tend more fauour vpon me: or els alas, how willing wold I be that my afflicted heart were drawen out of his place by his bloudie hande.

The poore Ladie béeing not a∣ble to speake anie more, wrong her handes and stayed her selfe against a Pine apple trée, which was behinde her backe, at the view whereof the Mesopotamian knight in great sorrow layd himselfe downe againe, vpon the gréene grasse. And the Grecian Prince wondring at this straunge aduenture, retourned very softly to that place wher he left his horse feeding, with intent and purpose to encounter that Knight, so soone as Titan shoulde appeare to lyght the world with his beames, and for no other cause but on∣ly to deliuer his friend from that prepensed mallice. And when as y^e firie Phaëton began with his glancing beames to shine, the Grecian Prince put on his armour, laced his helmet, mounted vpon his horse, and with a soft pace made towards the Prince of Mes••potamia, who was now pre∣pared to vndertake his iourney with his companie. After they had trauailed a while, the Prince did espie them pas∣sing through a faire champain or field, and was greatly a∣bashed at the excéeding beautie of the Ladye, whome hée viewed a long time, and loue hauing tickeled him for that she was so rare a Phoenix, he thought for her sake he coulde subdue all the worlde: wherefore he tourned his eyes towarde that place where the Knight was, and if before hée wondered at the Ladyes comely graces, not much lesse was he now amased at the strong bodye of

this knight, and at his huge and well fashioned weapons, whereby he reputed him to be some worthie & noble cham∣pion. After he had shaked off this imagination, hée said vnto him:

Knight, take thy weapons and armour for thy defence, for I am desirous to haue some triall of thée, before that thou doest proue thy valour with the Tartarian Prince, thereby peraduenture to quite him (if I canne) from the like battaile which thou doest intend to haue with him, at the request of this Ladie, and therefore I meane to preuent that diuellish purpose which thou hast promised to accomplish

The Moore heereat began to swell, and verie scornfully and with a feare∣full countenaunce replied.

What furie or diuell of hell hath placed so foolish a thought in thy brains, to vndertake that ex∣ploit, which the best of the Gods neuer durst enterprise:

and not able to speake anie more, his cholar & rage was so great, he laide both his handes vpon his sword, and therewithal let flie at the Grecian Prince such a blowe, that he made his head redouble in his breast plate, and vpon the necke of the same, he discharged another vpon him, which made him yéeld backward. The Grecian Prince wondering at his incompe∣rable strength and nimblenesse, drewe out that straunge and vnknowen swoord, which the Quéene Iulia did giue him, and lifting it aboue his head with one of his accustomed blowes, he did smite it vpon the pagan his helmet, which made him bowe downe his head to his saddle Pomell, so that his sen∣ces were almost benummed with the force of it, but béeing recouered, he began by little and little to smite and wounde the noble Prince, yet his dexteritie in fighting coulde little preuaile, for the Prince stoode not still, but did so b••stur him∣selfe, (and with as great furie as the other) that he did scarre his enimie in diuerse places, which he felt not without greate paine, although he made no semblaunce of the same, wherevp∣pon the battaile béeing before but kindled, was now on a hot flame, both of them burning in reuenge, and therefore conti∣nued a good while furious and fierce, slashing maine blowes betwéene them, which sounded a terrible noise in the thick∣nesse of the wood, as if manie Smithes had bene hammering

vpon theyr Ansieldes. But whosoeuer had then behelde the appalled countenance of the Ladie, hée would no doubt haue taken her for no liuing creature, so much did this desperate and fierce combat astonish her comelye face. And think∣ing vppon the valiaunt enimie of her Knight, who lyke a Beare that hath lost her yonglinges a••sailed him euermore▪ on the one side she wished in her heart the victorye ouer him, and on the other side fearing to sée her selfe all alone, she desi∣red greatly truce betwéene them, and that they might parte friendly, & that which did most glad her minde was, y^t often∣times she did imagine (& yet but doubting of y^e matter) if per∣haps this should be the knight whome she did take so greate paines to finde out, and that which did confirme her surmise, was, that she heard him at the first name y^e Tartarian prince. In such and other like thoughts and doubts, the comfortlesse Ladie passed awaie her time: In the meane while that the couragious Knights were busie how they might dispatch the one the other. But y^e crabbed Moore with both his hands gaue the stout Grecian such a blowe vppon his helmet, y^t he made his horse necke a pillow for his head, wherewithall he began to thumpe & beat all his féeling, & in this sencelesse sort was Rosicleer carried vp & downe the plaine by his horse, y^e Moore pursuing him to cut off his head, but as God would haue it, he awaked as it were out of a dreame, and furiously recoue∣ring his sworde, hée tourned backe againe, and repayed the Paganne with such a forcible blowe vppon his friendly hel∣met, that his wonderfull strength made the well tempered stéele to yéeld, and therewithall it made him fall backwardes vpon his horses buttocke, casting out blood out of his mouth, his horse carrieng him héere and there amidst the pleasaunt fields more then halfe dead, but Rosicleer would not followe him, but did attend whether and about what he went, who tarried not long but y^t he inioyed his former senses & strength, (being once almost dispossessed of them) and abashed to sée the Prince to haue surmounted him by lending him such a cruell blowe, so extreamely did all the furies in hell conspire in his breasts, that now hauing reared vp his swoorde, which fell

from him by force of that vnreasonable blow, he broched his horse with his spurres amaine, and with incredible swift∣nesse he encountered with the Grecian Prince, and hit him so mortall a stroke vpon one of his shoulders, that it made his bones rattle within his skinne, but he fayled not to leaue the print of his swoorde in some parte of the sinnow∣ed flesh, so that nowe the battaile seemed to bée but begunne, such was the fiercenesse of both these stout champions. And both of them imployed their forces in smiting of each other, and also their wits were not idle how the one by some s••ight might sooner cut off his enimie, because it gréeued them both that the battaile begunne two long houres since, shoulde in∣dure anie longer without aduauntage of anie parte, where∣fore both did their diligence to finish it by some waye or other. And all this while it was verie harde to knowe whe∣ther of them had the better ouer the other, béeing equiua∣lent in prowesse and manhoode. But the couragious and fierce Grecian béeing angrie in his minde to sée one onelye Knight to kéepe him at the staffes ende so long, replenish∣ed with an infernall furye, he beganne a fresh to double and redouble his mightie and peysaunt blowes vpon the Pagan, whereat he had good cause to wonder: and perceiuing that his strength did more and more increase with his courage, he beganne to blaspheme against his Gods, yet notwithstan∣ding lyke a firce Lyon hee thought to teare in péeces the worthie Grecian, wherewithall he let slippe so diuellish a blowe vppon his head, that with the losse of his vnderstan∣ding, hée did almost fall from his horse: The worthy Rosi∣cleer quickelye againe recouered, and séeing himselfe to bee in such a plight, hée tourned his horse so nimblye, that he scarce lefte his treading in the grounde, and nowe when hee sawe himselfe iumpe with his enimye, gathering together his forces and standing vpright in his stiroppes, hee weelded his sharpe Swoorde betwéene his strong and migh∣tie armes, and thundered so deadlye a blowe vppon the Moore his head-péece, (who indéede was not prouided for anie defence) the force whereof made a diuision from the

scull euen to the verie shoulders, the wretched Pagan falling down dead to y^e ground, y^e most parte of his bloud came gu∣shing out of his bodie. Unneth had hée fallen from his horse when the trembling and troubled Ladie did also fall from her Palfraie, as one that shoulde giue vp the Ghost, whome when her Gentlewomen did espie, lighted all of their Pal∣frayes, and with streames of salt teares began to lament her wofull case, & to accurse her froward fortune, euerie one stri∣uing about her, to trie if they coulde by anie meanes restore her againe to her memorie. The Prince séeing her in this extremitie, did also forsake his horse and come towardes the place, where this miserable Ladie laie like a stake, and cau∣sing one of her Gentlewomen to fetch a little water from the riuer which was hard by, he besprinckeled her beautified visage with it, and therevpon shee came to her selfe againe, and opened the dimmed windowes of hir darke bodye, and when she beheld the Prince so nigh hir, with a profounde sigh and pitifull voyce she sayde. O cruell homicide of my faithfull and valiant champion: thou thirstie bloudsucker of the royall bloud of Mesapotamia, dispatch nowe, dis∣patch I saie, to execute thy furie with thy imbrued Swoorde vpon my sorrowfull heart, and speaking these words she fell againe into an extasie as before, which Rosicleer marking, and gessing at her inward paine by her extearne countenance, he turned himselfe to one of her Damoysells, which as hée thought among the rest of hir traine séemed the chiefest, in knowing most hir Ladies secrets, and sayd vnto hir:

Gen∣tlewoman, I sée (God knoweth, not without great sorrowe be it spoken) y^e griefe y^t your Lady indureth in viewing my face, therefore I praye you tell hir from me, that I intreate her to goe to the Emperours court of Greece, and there pre∣sent her personage to his maiestie, and certifie him of all these accidents, and there to stay my comming, for I meane short∣ly to returne thether, and then I promise her, that there I will vse such meanes y^t she shall inioye to her great content∣ment, that thing, the want wherof doth so greatly grieue her, and because my wordes may carrie more credite with her,

you shall tell hir, that one of the Emperour Trebatio his sonnes, the greatest friend that the Tartarian Prince hath, did informe you this much.

And héerevpon not tarieng for anye replye, he mounted vpon his horse, coursing through the for∣rest. When he was gone, the Gentlewomen helped their la∣die by certaine drugges which they brought forth for pre∣uenting such mishaps, and so recontinued hir health againe, and afterward exprest to hir all that which the knights im∣parted vnto them, which report comforted hir not a little. The griefe which the Ladie and hir Gentlewomen did su∣staine, in séeing a straunge Knight glaunce by them armed, and to remaine in the woode alone without succour or com∣fort of any, I would heere set downe before your eyes: but I am inforced to return to the famous Rosicleer, and at this present, I will not make recitall to you, what Knight that was, who parting from Rosicleer did appeare againe vnto him at his going out of the forrest.