The blazing brightnesse of her beauties beame, xxiii And glorious light of her sunshyny face To tell, were as to striue against the streame. My ragged rimes are all too rude and bace, Her heauenly lineaments for to enchace. Ne wonder; for her owne deare loued knight, All were she dayly with himselfe in place, Did wonder much at her celestiall sight: Oft had he seene her faire, but neuer so faire dight. So fairely dight, when she in presence came, xxiv She to her Sire made humble reuerence, And bowed low, that her right well became, And added grace vnto her excellence: Who with great wisedome, and graue eloquence Thus gan to say. But eare he thus had said, With flying speede, and seeming great pretence, Came running in, much like a man dismaid, A Messenger with letters, which his message said. All in the open hall amazed stood, xxv At suddeinnesse of that vnwarie sight, And wondred at his breathlesse hastie mood. But he for nought would stay his passage right, Till fast before the king he did alight; Where falling flat, great humblesse he did make, And kist the ground, whereon his foot was pight; Then to his hands that writ he did betake, Which he disclosing, red thus, as the paper spake. To thee, most mighty king of _Eden_ faire, xxvi Her greeting sends in these sad lines addrest, The wofull daughter, and forsaken heire Of that great Emperour of all the West; And bids thee be aduized for the best, Ere thou thy daughter linck in holy band Of wedlocke to that new vnknowen guest: For he already plighted his right hand Vnto another loue, and to another land. To me sad mayd, or rather widow sad, xxvii He was affiaunced long time before, And sacred pledges he both gaue, and had, False erraunt knight, infamous, and forswore: Witnesse the burning Altars, which he swore, And guiltie heauens of his bold periury, Which though he hath polluted oft of[421] yore, Yet I to them for Judgement iust do fly, And them coniure t’auenge this shamefull iniury. Therefore since[422] mine he is, or free or bond, xxviii Or false or trew, or liuing or else dead, Withhold, O soueraine Prince, your hasty hond From knitting league with him, I you aread; Ne weene my right with strength adowne to tread, Through weakenesse of my widowhed, or woe: For truth is strong, her[423] rightfull cause to plead, And shall find friends, if need requireth soe, So bids thee well to fare, Thy neither friend, nor foe, _Fidessa_.