Like as a Puttocke hauing spyde in sight xv A gentle Faulcon sitting on an hill, Whose other wing, now made vnmeete for flight, Was lately broken by some fortune ill; The foolish Kyte, led with licentious will, Doth beat vpon the gentle bird in vaine, With many idle stoups her troubling still: Euen so did _Radigund_ with bootlesse paine Annoy this noble Knight, and sorely him constraine. Nought could he do, but shun the dred despight xvi Of her fierce wrath, and backward still retyre, And with his single shield, well as he might, Beare off the burden of her raging yre; And euermore he gently did desyre, To stay her stroks, and he himselfe would yield: Yet nould she hearke, ne let him once respyre, Till he to her deliuered had his shield, And to her mercie him submitted in plaine field. So was he ouercome, not ouercome, xvii But to her yeelded of his owne accord; Yet was he iustly damned by the doome Of his owne mouth, that spake so warelesse word, To be her thrall, and seruice her afford. For though that he first victorie obtayned, Yet after by abandoning his sword, He wilfull lost, that he before attayned. No fayrer conquest, then that with goodwill is gayned. Tho with her sword on him she flatling strooke, xviii In signe of true subiection to her powre, And as her vassall him to thraldome tooke. But _Terpine_ borne to’a more vnhappy howre, As he, on whom the lucklesse starres did lowre, She causd to be attacht, and forthwith led Vnto the crooke t’abide the balefull stowre, From which he lately had through reskew fled: Where he full shamefully was hanged by the hed. But when they thought on _Talus_ hands to lay, xix He with his yron flaile amongst them thondred, That they were fayne to let him scape away, Glad from his companie to be so sondred; Whose presence all their troups so much encombred That th’heapes of those, which he did wound and slay, Besides the rest dismayd, might not be nombred: Yet all that while he would not once assay, To reskew his owne Lord, but thought it iust t’obay. Then tooke the Amazon this noble knight, xx Left to her will by his owne wilfull blame, And caused him to be disarmed quight, Of all the ornaments of knightly name, With which whylome he gotten had great fame: In stead whereof she made him to be dight In womans weedes, that is to manhood shame, And put before his lap a napron[292] white, In stead of Curiets and bases fit for fight.