Britomart in the House of Busirane

There they dismounting, drew their weapons bold,
And stoutly came unto the castle gate,
Whereas no gate they found, them to withhold,
Nor ward to wait at morne and evening late;
But in the porch, that did them sore amate,
A flaming fire, ymixt with smouldry smoke
And stinking sulphure, that with griesly hate
And dreadfull horror did all entraunce choke,
Enforced them their forward footing to revoke.
Greatly thereat was Britomart dismayd,
Ne in that stownd wist how her selfe to beare;
For daunger vaine it were to have assayd
That cruell element, which all things feare,
Ne none can suffer to approchen neare:
And turning backe to Scudamour, thus sayd:
‘What monstrous enmity provoke we heare,
Foolhardy as th' Earthes children, the which made
Batteill against the gods? so we a god invade.
*****Therewith, resolv'd to prove her utmost might,

Her ample shield she threw before her face,
And her swords point directing forward right,
Assayld the flame, the which eftesoones gave place,
And did it selfe divide with equall space,
That through she passed, as a thonder bolt
Perceth the yielding ayre, and doth displace
The soring clouds into sad showres ymolt;
So to her yold the flames, and did their force revolt.
Whome whenas Scudamour saw past the fire,
Safe and untoucht, he likewise gan assay,
With greedy will and envious desire,
And bad the stubborne flames to yield him way:
But cruell Mulciber would not obay
His threatfull pride, but did the more augment
His mighty rage, and with imperious sway
Him forst (maulgre) his fercenes to relent,
And backe retire, all scorcht and pitifully brent.
With huge impatience he inly swelt,
More for great sorrow that he could not pas
Then for the burning torment which he felt;
That with fell woodnes he effierced was,
And wilfully him throwing on the gras,
Did beat and bounse his head and brest ful sore;
The whiles the championesse now entred has
The utmost rowme, and past the formost dore,
The utmost rowme, abounding with all precious store.
For round about, the walls yclothed were
With goodly arras of great majesty,
Woven with gold and silke so close and nere,
That the rich metall lurked privily,
As faining to be hidd from envious eye;
Yet here, and there, and every where unwares
It shewd it selfe, and shone unwillingly;
Like a discolourd snake, whose hidden snares
Through the greene gras his long bright burnisht back declares
And in those tapets weren fashioned
Many faire pourtraicts, and many a faire feate;
And all of love, and al of lusty-hed,
As seemed by their semblaunt, did entreat;
And eke all Cupids warres they did repeate,
And cruell battailes, which he whilome fought
Gainst all the gods, to make his empire great;
Besides the huge massacres, which he wrought
On mighty kings and kesars, into thraldome brought
***** The warlike mayd, beholding earnestly

The goodly ordinaunce of this rich place,
Did greatly wonder, ne could satisfy
Her greedy eyes with gazing a long space;
But more she mervaild that no footings trace
Nor wight appear'd, but wastefull emptinesse
And solemne silence over all that place:
Straunge thing it seem'd, that none was, to possesse
So rich purveyaunce, ne them keepe with carefulnesse.
And as she lookt about, she did behold
How over that same dore was likewise writ,
Be bolde, be bolde , and every where Be bold ,
That much she muz'd, yet could not construe it
By any ridling skill or commune wit
At last she spyde at that rowmes upper end
Another yron dore, on which was writ,
Be not too bold , whereto though she did bend
Her earnest minde, yet wist not what it might intend
Thus she there wayted untill eventyde,
Yet living creature none she saw appeare:
And now sad shadowes gan the world to hyde
From mortall vew, and wrap in darkenes dreare:
Yet'nould she d'off her weary armes, for feare
Of secret daunger, ne let sleepe oppresse
Her heavy eyes with natures burdein deare,
But drew her selfe aside in sickernesse,
And her welpointed wepons did about her dresse.
Tho, when as chearelesse night ycovered had
Fayre heaven with an universall clowd,
That every wight, dismayd with darkenes sad,
In silence and in sleepe themselves did shrowd,
She heard a shrilling trompet sound alowd,
Signe of nigh battaill, or got victory:
Nought therewith daunted was her courage prowd,
But rather stird to cruell enmity,
Expecting ever when some foe she might descry
With that, an hideous storme of winde arose,
With dreadfull thunder and lightning atwixt,
And an earthquake, as if it streight would lose
The worlds foundations from his centre fixt:
A direfull stench of smoke and sulphure mixt
Ensewd, whose noyaunce fild the fearefull sted,
From the fourth howre of night untill the sixt;
Yet the bold Britonesse was nought ydred,
Though much emmov'd, but stedfast still persevered.
All suddeinly a stormy whirlwind blew
Throughout the house, that clapped every dore,
With which that yron wicket open flew,
As it with mighty levers had bene tore;
And forth yssewd, as on the readie flore
Of some theatre, a grave personage,
That in his hand a braunch of laurell bore,
With comely haveour and count'nance sage,
Yclad in costly garments, fit for tragicke stage.
Proceeding to the midst, he stil did stand,
As if in minde he somewhat had to say,
And to the vulgare beckning with his hand,
In signe of silence, as to heare a play,
By lively actions he gan bewray
Some argument of matter passioned;
Which doen, he backe retyred soft away,
And passing by, his name discovered,
Ease, on his robe in golden letters cyphered.
The noble mayd, still standing, all this vewd,
And merveild at his straunge intendiment:
With that a joyous fellowship issewd
Of minstrales, making goodly meriment,
With wanton bardes, and rymers impudent,
All which together song full chearefully
A lay of loves delight, with sweet concent:
After whom marcht a jolly company,
In manner of a maske, enranged orderly.
The whiles a most delitious harmony
In full straunge notes was sweetly heard to sound,
That the rare sweetnesse of the melody
The feeble sences wholy did confound,
And the frayle soule in deepe delight nigh drownd:
And when it ceast, shrill trompets lowd did bray,
That their report did far away rebound,
And when they ceast, it gan againe to play,
The whiles the maskers marched forth in trim aray.
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