Classic Poem

So soon as day, forth dawning from the East,
Night's humid curtain from the heavens withdrew,
And early calling forth both man and beast,
Commanded them their daily works renew,
These noble warriors, mindful to pursue
The last day's purpose of their vowed fight,
Themselves thereto prepared in order due;
The knight, as best was seeming for a knight,
And th' Amazon, as best it liked herself to dight.
All in a camis light of purple silk
Woven upon with silver, subtly wrought,
And quilted upon satin white as milk,
Trailed with ribbands diversely distraught,
Like as the workman had their courses taught;
Which was short tucked for light motion
Up to her ham, but when she list, it raught
Down to her lowest heel, and thereupon
She wore for her defence a mailed habergeon.
And on her legs she painted buskins wore,
Basted with bends of gold on every side,
And mails between, and laced close afore:
Upon her thigh her scimitar was tied,
With an embroidered belt of mickle pride;
And on her shoulder hung her shield, bedecked
Upon the boss with stones, that shined wide,
As the fair moon in her most full aspect,
That to the moon it mote be like in each respect.
So forth she came out of the city gate,
With stately port and proud magnificence,
Guarded with many damsels, that did wait
Upon her person for her sure defence,
Playing on shawms and trumpets, that from hence
Their sound did reach unto the heaven's height.
So forth into the field she marched thence,
Where was a rich pavilion ready pight,
Her to receive, till time they should begin the fight.
Then forth came Artegall out of his tent,
All armed to point, and first the lists did enter:
Soon after eke came she, with fell intent,
And countenance fierce, as having fully bent her,
That battle's utmost trial to adventure.
The lists were closed fast, to bar the rout
From rudely pressing to the middle centre;
Which in great heaps them circled all about,
Waiting, how Fortune would resolve that dangerous doubt.
The trumpets sounded, and the field began;
With bitter strokes it both began, and ended.
She at the first encounter on him ran
With furious rage, as if she had intended
Out of his breast the very heart have rended:
But he, that had like tempests often tried,
From that first flaw himself right well defended.
The more she raged, the more he did abide;
She hewed, she foined, she lashed, she laid on every side.
Yet still her blows he bore, and her forbore,
Weening at last to win advantage new;
Yet still her cruelty increased more,
And though power failed, her courage did accrue,
Which failing he 'gan fiercely her pursue.
Like as a smith that to his cunning feat
The stubborn metal seeketh to subdue,
Soon as he feels it mollified with heat,
With his great iron sledge doth strongly on it beat.
So did Sir Artegall upon her lay,
As if she had an iron anvil been,
That flakes of fire, bright as the sunny ray,
Out of her steely arms were flashing seen,
That all on fire ye would her surely ween.
But with her shield so well herself she warded,
From the dread danger of his weapon keen,
That all that while her life she safely guarded:
But he that help from her against her will discarded.
For with his trenchant blade at the next blow
Half of her shield he shared quite away,
That half her side itself did naked show,
And thenceforth unto danger opened way.
Much was she moved with the mighty sway
Of that sad stroke, that half enraged she grew,
And like a greedy bear unto her prey,
With her sharp scimitar at him she flew,
That glancing down his thigh, the purple blood forth drew.
Thereat she 'gan to triumph with great boast,
And to upbraid that chance, which him misfell,
As if the prize she gotten had almost,
With spiteful speeches, fitting with her well;
That his great heart 'gan inwardly to swell
With indignation, at her vaunting vain,
And at her struck with puissance fearful fell:
Yet with her shield she warded it again,
That shattered all to pieces round about the plain.
Having her thus disarmed of her shield,
Upon her helmet he again her struck,
That down she fell upon the grassy field,
In senseless swoon, as if her life forsook,
And pangs of death her spirit overtook.
Whom when he saw before his foot prostrated,
He to her lept with deadly dreadful look,
And her sunshiny helmet soon unlaced,
Thinking at once both head and helmet to have razed.
But when as he discovered had her face,
He saw his senses' strange astonishment,
A miracle of nature's goodly grace,
In her fair visage void of ornament,
But bathed in blood and sweat together ment;
Which in the rudeness of that evil plight
Bewrayed the signs of feature excellent;
Like as the moon, in foggy winter's night,
Doth seem to be herself, though darkened be her light.