And, sooth, it ought your corage much inflame
To heare so often, in that royall hous,
From whence to none inferior ye came,
Bards tell of many wemen valorous,
Which have full many feats adventurous
Performd, in paragone of proudest men:
The bold Bunduca, whose victorious
Exployts made Rome to quake; stout Guendolen ; Renowmed Martia; and redoubted Emmilen ;
And, that which more then all the rest may sway,
Late dayes ensample, which these eies beheld:
In the last field before Menevia,
Which Uther with those forrein Pagans held,
I saw a Saxon virgin, the which feld
Great Ulfin thrise upon the bloody playne;
And, had not Carados her hand withheld
From rash revenge, she had him surely slayne; Yet Carados himselfe from her escapt with payne."
"Ah! read," quoth Britomart, "how is she hight?" "Fayre Angela," quoth she, "men do her call, No whit lesse fayre then terrible in fight: She hath the leading of a martiall
And mightie people, dreaded more then all The other Saxons, which doe, for her sake And love, themselves of her name Angles call. Therefore, faire Infant, her ensample make Unto thyselfe, and equall corage to thee take.”
Her harty wordes so deepe into the mynd
Of the young Damzell sunke, that great desire
Of warlike armes in her forthwith they tynd,
And generous stout courage did inspyre,
That she resolv'd, unweeting to her syre,
Advent'rous knighthood on herselfe to don ;
And counseld with her nourse her maides attyre
To turne into a massy habergeon ;
And bad her all things put in readiness anon.
Th'old woman nought that needed did omit;
But all thinges did conveniently purvay.
It fortuned (so time their turne did fitt)
A band of Britons, ryding on forray
Few dayes before, had gotten a great pray
Of Saxon goods; emongst the which was seene
A goodly armour, and full rich aray,
Which long'd to Angela, the Saxon queene,
All fretted round with gold and goodly wel beseene.
The same, with all the other ornaments,
King Ryence caused to be hanged hy
In his chiefe church, for endlesse moniments
Of his successe and gladfull victory:
Of which herselfe avising readily,
In th' evening late old Glaucè thether led
Faire Britomart, and, that same armory
Downe taking, her therein appareled
Well as she might, and with brave bauldrick garnished.
Beside those armes there stood a mightie speare,
Which Bladud made by magick art of yore,
And usd the same in batteill aye to beare;
Sith which it had beene here preserv'd in store,
For his great virtues proved long afore:
For never wight so fast in sell could sit,
But him perforce unto the ground it bore:
Both speare
she tooke and shield which hong by it;
Both speare and shield of great powre, for her purpose fit.
Thus when she had the Virgin all arayd,
Another harnesse which did hang thereby
About herselfe she dight, that the yong Mayd
She might in equall armes accompany,
And as her Squyre attend her carefully:
Tho to their ready steedes they clombe full light;
And through back waies, that none might them espy,
Covered with secret cloud of silent night,
Themselves they forth convaid, and passed forward right.
Ne rested they, till that to Faery Lond
They came, as Merlin them directed late:
Where, meeting with this Redcrosse Knight, she fond
Of diverse thinges discourses to dilate,
But most of Arthegall and his estate.
At last their wayes so fell, that they mote part:
Then each to other, well affectionate,
Frendship professed with unfained hart:
The Redcrosse Knight diverst; but forth rode Britomart.
Bold Marinell of Britomart
Is throwne on the Rich Strond:
Faire Florimell of Arthur is
Long followed, but not fond.
WHERE is the antique glory now become,
That whylome wont in wemen to appeare?
Where be the brave atchievements doen by some?
Where be the batteilles, where the shield and speare,
And all the conquests which them high did reare,
That matter made for famous poets verse,
And boastfull men so oft abasht to heare?
Beene they all dead, and laide in dolefull herse? Or doen they onely sleepe, and shall againe reverse?
If they be dead, then woe is me therefore;
But if they sleepe, O let them soone awake!
For all too long I burne with envy sore
To heare the warlike feates which Homere spake
Of bold Penthesilee, which made a lake
Of Greekish blood so ofte in Trojan plaine;
But when I reade, how stout Debora strake
Proud Sisera, and how Camill' hath slaine
The huge Orsilochus, I swell with great disdaine.
Yet these, and all that els had puissaunce,
Cannot with noble Britomart compare,
Aswell for glorie of great valiaunce,
As for pure chastitee and vertue rare,
That all her goodly deedes doe well declare.
Well worthie stock, from which the branches sprong
That in late yeares so faire a blossome bare,
As thee, O Queene, the matter of my song,
Whose lignage from this Lady I derive along!
Who when, through speaches with the Redcrosse Knight,
She learned had th' estate of Arthegall,
And in each point herselfe informd aright,
A friendly league of love perpetuall
She with him bound, and congè tooke withall.
Then he forth on his iourney did proceede,
To seeke adventures which mote him befall,
And win him worship through his warlike deed,
Which alwaies of his paines he made the chiefest meed.
But Britomart kept on her former course,
Ne ever dofte her armes; but all the way
Grew pensive through that amorous discourse,
By which the Redcrosse Knight did earst display
Her Lovers shape and chevalrous aray:
A thousand thoughts she fashiond in her mind;
And in her feigning fancie did pourtray
Him, such as fittest she for love could find,
Wise, warlike, personable, courteous, and kind.
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