By meanes whereof, she did at last commit xiii All to his hands, and gaue him soueraine powre To doe, what euer he thought good or fit. Which hauing got, he gan forth from that howre To stirre vp strife, and many a Tragicke stowre, Giuing her dearest children one by one Vnto a dreadfull Monster to deuoure, And setting vp an Idole of his owne, The image of his monstrous parent _Geryone_. So tyrannizing, and oppressing all, xiv The woefull widow had no meanes now left, But vnto gratious great _Mercilla_ call For ayde, against that cruell Tyrants theft, Ere all her children he from her had reft. Therefore these two, her eldest sonnes she sent, To seeke for succour of this Ladies gieft: To whom their sute they humbly did present, In th’hearing of full many Knights and Ladies gent. Amongst the which then fortuned to bee xv The noble Briton Prince, with his braue Peare; Who when he none of all those knights did see Hastily bent, that enterprise to heare, Nor vndertake the same, for cowheard feare, He stepped forth with courage bold and great, Admyr’d of all the rest in presence there, And humbly gan that mightie Queene entreat, To graunt him that aduenture for his former feat. She gladly graunted it: then he straight way xvi Himselfe vnto his iourney gan prepare, And all his armours readie dight that day, That nought the morrow next mote stay his fare. The morrow next appear’d, with purple hayre Yet dropping fresh out of the _Indian_ fount, And bringing light into the heauens fayre, When he was readie to his steede to mount,[353] Vnto his way, which now was all his care and count. Then taking humble leaue of that great Queene, xvii Who gaue him roiall giftes and riches rare, As tokens of her thankefull mind beseene, And leauing _Artegall_ to his owne care,[354] Vpon his voyage forth he gan to fare, With those two gentle youthes, which him did guide, And all his way before him still prepare. Ne after him did _Artegall_[355] abide, But on his first aduenture forward forth did ride. It was not long, till that the Prince arriued xviii Within the land, where dwelt that Ladie sad, Whereof that Tyrant had her now depriued, And into moores and marshes banisht had, Out of the pleasant soyle, and citties glad, In which she wont to harbour happily: But now his cruelty so sore she drad, That to those fennes for fastnesse she did fly, And there her selfe did hyde from his hard tyranny.