And as his hand he vp againe did reare, xxi Thinking to worke on her his vtmost wracke, His powrelesse arme benumbd with secret feare From his reuengefull purpose shronke abacke, And cruell sword out of his fingers slacke Fell downe to ground, as if the steele had sence, And felt some ruth, or sence his hand did lacke, Or both of them did thinke, obedience To doe to so diuine a beauties excellence. And he himselfe long gazing thereupon, xxii At last fell humbly downe vpon his knee, And of his wonder made religion, Weening some heauenly goddesse he did see, Or else vnweeting, what it else might bee; And pardon her besought his errour frayle, That had done outrage in so high degree: Whilest trembling horrour did his sense assayle, And made ech member quake, and manly hart to quayle. Nathelesse she full of wrath for that late stroke, xxiii All that long while vpheld her wrathfull hand, With fell intent, on him to bene ywroke, And looking sterne, still ouer him did stand, Threatning to strike, vnlesse he would withstand: And bad him rise, or surely he should die. But die or liue for nought he would vpstand But her of pardon prayd more earnestlie, Or wreake on him her will for so great iniurie. Which when as _Scudamour_, who now abrayd, xxiv Beheld, whereas he stood not farre aside, He was therewith right wondrously dismayd, And drawing nigh, when as he plaine descride That peerelesse paterne of Dame natures pride, And heauenly image of perfection, He blest himselfe, as one sore terrifide, And turning his[105] feare to faint deuotion, Did worship her as some celestiall vision. But _Glauce_, seeing all that chaunced there, xxv Well weeting how their errour to assoyle, Full glad of so good end, to them drew nere, And her salewd with seemely belaccoyle, Ioyous to see her safe after long toyle. Then her besought, as she to her was deare, To graunt vnto those warriours truce a whyle; Which yeelded, they their beuers vp did reare, And shew’d themselues to her, such as indeed they were. When _Britomart_ with sharpe auizefull eye xxvi Beheld the louely face of _Artegall_, Tempred with sternesse and stout maiestie, She gan eftsoones it to her mind to call, To be the same which in her fathers hall Long since in that enchaunted glasse she saw. Therewith her wrathfull courage gan appall, And haughtie spirits meekely to adaw, That her enhaunced hand she downe can soft withdraw.