As when two sunnes appeare in the azure[272] skye, xix Mounted in _Phœbus_ charet fierie bright, Both darting forth faire beames to each mans eye, And both adorn’d with lampes of flaming light, All that behold so strange prodigious sight, Not knowing natures worke, nor what to weene, Are rapt with wonder, and with rare affright. So stood Sir _Marinell_, when he had seene The semblant of this false by his faire beauties Queene. All which when _Artegall_, who all this while xx Stood in the preasse close couered, well aduewed, And saw that boasters pride and gracelesse guile, He could no longer beare, but forth issewed, And vnto all himselfe there open shewed, And to the boaster said; Thou losell base, That hast with borrowed plumes thy selfe endewed, And others worth with leasings doest deface, When they are all restor’d, thou shalt rest in disgrace. That shield, which thou doest beare, was it indeed, xxi Which this dayes honour sau’d to _Marinell_; But not that arme, nor thou the man I reed, Which didst that seruice vnto _Florimell_. For proofe shew forth thy sword, and let it tell, What strokes, what dreadfull stoure it stird this day: Or shew the wounds, which vnto thee befell; Or shew the sweat, with which thou diddest sway So sharpe a battell, that so many did dismay. But this the sword, which wrought those cruell stounds, xxii And this the arme, the which that shield did beare, And these the signes, (so shewed forth his wounds) By which that glorie gotten doth appeare. As for this Ladie, which he sheweth here, Is not (I wager) _Florimell_ at all; But some fayre Franion, fit for such a fere, That by misfortune in his hand did fall. For proofe whereof, he bad them _Florimell_ forth call. So forth the noble Ladie was ybrought, xxiii Adorn’d with honor and all comely grace: Whereto her bashfull shamefastnesse ywrought A great increase in her faire blushing face; As roses did with lillies interlace. For of those words, the which that boaster threw, She inly yet conceiued great disgrace. Whom when as all the people such did vew, They shouted loud, and signes of gladnesse all did shew. Then did he set her by that snowy one, xxiv Like the true saint beside the image set, Of both their beauties to make paragone, And triall, whether should the honor get. Streight way so soone as both together met, Th’enchaunted Damzell vanisht into nought: Her snowy substance melted as with heat, Ne of that goodly hew remayned ought, But th’emptie girdle, which about her wast was wrought.