When Britomart heard the name of Artegal, she knew in very truth that this was the knight whom Merlin had told her she should wed. Her heart gave a great leap. She trembled for sudden joy and secret fear, while the blood rushed through her veins and mounted to her fair face. Then, fearful of betraying herself, she strove the harder to continue in her former angry mood, trying thus to hide her newly-awakened feeling.
And now old Glaucé began to speak wise words.
"Ye gentle knights," she said, "whom fortune hath brought to be spectators of the emotion which secret fate hath wrought in this fair lady, marvel not, and henceforth be not the prey of idle fears and jealous thoughts. Nor may you, Sir Artegal, again disdain the might of woman's arm, which hath twice conquered you, nor any longer be rebellious unto love, which is the crown of knighthood and the bond of noble minds. And you, fair lady knight," continued the old woman, "relent, and grant him your grace."
Britomart blushed deeply at her nurse's words, but Artegal rejoiced in his inmost heart, yet dared not make too sudden a change in his demeanour, nor show openly the love which her beauty and quiet dignity of manner, so grave and full of princeliness, inspired within him. But his passion grew the stronger from the very restraint imposed upon him.
Here Scudamour, whose heart had all this time been racked with fear and hope, interposed, with a request for tidings of Amoret. This Britomart at once granted, and went on to relate a sad tale: how, after freeing her from the enchanter, and guarding her with tender care and love for many a day, she had lost her in a wild desert, where from sheer weariness Britomart had fallen asleep.
Poor Scudamour was terribly cast down by these melancholy tidings, and only plucked up a faint hope when Britomart pledged herself to remain with him until together they found the missing dame.
Meantime the three combatants being thus reconciled one to another, mounted their steeds, and rode towards a certain resting-place known to Sir Artegal, where they were well received and cared for. Here they remained until their wounds were healed, and their weary limbs thoroughly rested.
And all the time they sojourned there, Sir Artegal served Britomart with meek service, watching continually how he might best please her. Thus day by day he made progress in his suit; and though Britomart in her womanly pride tried hard to conceal the love she bore him she could not quite succeed. So well did Artegal woo, so skilfully did he contrive, that at length he brought the noble damsel to bay and forced her to lay aside her seeming indifference and to hearken to his words. And as she listened to the vows with which he swore to love and guard her, Britomart's reserve gave way, and she yielded a glad consent to love and own him for her lord until marriage should unite them for ever.
But their marriage might not be yet, for Sir Artegal had been sent out from the court of Gloriana, Queen of Faeryland, on a hard adventure, and until it was achieved he might not turn aside from following after it. And now that his limbs were rested and his wounds were healed, the knight knew the time was come when he must leave Britomart and continue on his way, so he told her of the adventure on which he was bound. She, poor maiden, having just begun to taste of the rest and comfort of his presence, was sorely grieved and exceeding loth to be so soon parted from her "dearest love." But he, strong in the sense of duty, persuaded her to acquiesce, and with fresh vows of love and constancy, promised to return to her so soon as ever his enterprise was ended, which would not, he thought, be longer than three months.
Early next morning, Sir Artegal rose and pursued his way unattended, save by Britomart, who insisted on accompanying him a certain distance.