But should it not displease thee it to tell; xxvi (Vnlesse thou in these woods thy selfe conceale, For loue amongst the woodie Gods to dwell;) I would thy selfe require thee to reueale, For deare affection and vnfayned zeale, Which to thy noble personage I beare, And wish thee grow in worship and great weale. For since the day that armes I first did reare, I neuer saw in any greater hope appeare. To whom then thus the noble youth; May[429] be xxvii Sir knight, that by discouering my estate, Harme may arise vnweeting vnto me; Nathelesse, sith ye so courteous seemed late, To you I will not feare it to relate. Then wote ye that I am a Briton borne, Sonne of a King, how euer thorough fate Or fortune I my countrie haue forlorne, And lost the crowne, which should my head by right adorne. And _Tristram_ is my name, the onely heire xxviii Of good king _Meliogras_ which did rayne In Cornewale, till that he through liues despeire Vntimely dyde, before I did attaine Ripe yeares of reason, my right to maintaine. After whose death, his brother seeing mee An infant, weake a kingdome to sustaine, Vpon him tooke the roiall high degree, And sent me, where him list, instructed for to bee. The widow Queene my mother, which then hight xxix Faire _Emiline_, conceiuing then great feare Of my fraile safetie, resting in the might Of him, that did the kingly Scepter beare, Whose gealous dread induring not a peare, Is wont to cut off all, that doubt may breed, Thought best away me to remoue somewhere Into some forrein land, where as no need Of dreaded daunger might his doubtfull humor feed. So taking counsell of a wise man red, xxx She was by him aduiz’d, to send me quight Out of the countrie, wherein I was bred, The which the fertile _Lionesse_ is hight, Into the land of _Faerie_, where no wight Should weet of me, nor worke me any wrong[430]. To whose wise read she hearkning, sent me streight Into this land, where I haue wond thus long, Since I was ten yeares old, now growen to stature strong. All which my daies I haue not lewdly spent, xxxi Nor spilt the blossome of my tender yeares In ydlesse, but as was conuenient, Haue trayned bene with many noble feres In gentle thewes, and such like seemely leres. Mongst which my most delight hath alwaies been, To hunt the saluage chace amongst my peres, Of all that raungeth in the forrest greene; Of which none is to me vnknowne, that eu’r was seene.