"Be not thou dismayed, most noble virgin, by the sharp pangs which have so sore oppressed thine heart, for so must all excellent things begin. Nor was it idle chance that led thee to look into the charmed mirror; thine eyes were guided by eternal providence in order that heaven's destiny be fulfilled. Thine is no evil fate, thus to love the noblest among knights. Therefore submit thyself to Heaven, and take all due means to fulfil thy destiny."

"But," said Glaucé "advise us, thou great magician, what means to take. How shall she find this knight, or indeed why need she do aught since the fates can of themselves fulfil their own purpose."

"Nay," replied Merlin, "true is it that naught can shake the heavenly destiny, nevertheless men must use their own endeavour to work it out. Know then that he whom Britomart loves, and is to marry, is the knight Artegal. He dwells in the Faeryland, and yet he is neither born of a fairy nor in any way related to one, but was by them stolen from his cradle, and to this day he is ignorant that he belongs not to their race. But he is in truth a son of Gorlois, and a brother of Cador, the great Cornish king, whose deeds are renowned from east to west. And to thee, Britomart, is it given to bring Artegal back to his native soil. He shall return to help his country to withstand the foreign invasion which now threatens thy father's territory. His great strength and his dreaded name shall render great assistance against the foe; and thy prowess shall be added unto his, and together ye shall wear arms and bear great command."

Then the magician saw before him a vision of the future. In his vision he beheld wars and desolation, a ruined church, and a king made captive. Overcome by the sorrows which lay before his people, the aged wizard passed into an ecstasy which much alarmed the two women, who stood silent and confused. Presently it passed away, the natural colour returned to his face, and the expression of horror gave way to one of calm cheerfulness. He then instructed Britomart and her nurse as to what they should do, and they, with lightened hearts, bade him farewell and returned home. There they held secret counsel how best to carry out their difficult enterprise, proposing now one, and now a different plan. At length Glaucé hit upon a bold device.

"Daughter," she said, "I think that plan is ever the wisest that takes into consideration present advantages. Good King Uther is now making war upon the Saracens, and all Britain is in arms. Let us too wear arms and learn to use the shield and spear; so shall we pass unrecognized where we will throughout the land. Thou art tall and large of limb, and armour will befit thee well, and practice will soon bring thee the needful skill in handling weapons. Truly," continued Glaucé waxing eager in praise of her plan, "it ought to inflame thy courage to remember how many women of thy house—a house inferior to none—have done deeds to rival those of the bravest men. Remember bold Bundeca, brave Gwendolin, Martia, and Emmeline; and more than these, let the example of the Saxon Virgin incite thy courage."

"Ah," said Britomart, "what is her name?"

"Men call her fair Angela," replied the nurse, "for she is as fair as she is courageous in battle: she is more dreaded than all the Saxons by her foes, and so beloved by her people that they call themselves by her name. Therefore, fair child, take her example for thine, and equal her in courage."

These hearty words of Glaucé sank deep into Britomart's heart, and inspired in her a great desire to excel in arms. She therefore resolved to undertake the perils of knighthood, and consulted with her nurse how to attire herself in suitable array.

Now it chanced that only a few days previously a band of Cambrians who had gone out against the Saxons had returned with much prey, and among other booty had carried back a complete suit of the armour worn by Angela, the Saxon Queen. It was a rich and beautiful suit, and fretted over with gold. This suit along with other spoils of war King Ryence had caused to be hung up in his chief church as a lasting monument of his success and victory.

In the same church was a famous and mighty spear. It had been fashioned in olden days by magic lore, and was preserved on account of its magic powers. No matter how well or firmly a warrior sat his charger, this spear bore him to the ground.