then went with the Damsels to the chapel, and showed them the song which he had made: his voice was of rare sweetness, and now his melancholy made it more soft and in unison; and the Damsels learnt the song, and did sing it to their Lady, who took great pleasure to hear them. Corisanda remained there four days; on the fifth she took leave of the Hermit, and asked Beltenebros if he should remain there long? Lady, till I die, he replied. Then she entered her ship, and made voyage to London.

Lisuarte and the Queen received her in a manner suitable to her high rank, and lodged her in the palace, and the Queen asked her if she had any suit to Lisuarte, that, if so, she might further it. My Lady, said Corisanda, I thank you for the favour; but my coming is to seek Don Florestan, and because tidings from all parts reach this court, I will remain here some time till I hear news of him. Good friend, replied Brisena, that may you do so long as you think good; at present we have no other news of him, than that he is gone in search of his brother Amadis, who is lost, we know not for what cause; and she then related how Guilan had found the arms. Hearing this, she began to weep, and say, O Lord God, what will

become of my Lord and friend Don Florestan! for he so loves that brother, that, if he finds him not, he also will become desperate, and I shall never see him more! The Queen having great pity, consoled her, and Oriana, who was by, hearing the love she bore to the brother of Amadis, had the greater desire to honour her, and accompanied her to her chamber, and learnt from her all her love. Thus talking with her and Mabilia of sundry things, Corisanda related how she had been upon the Poor Rock, and found a Knight there doing hard penance, who had taught her Damsels a song made by Amadis in his affliction, and the words, she said, were very sad. My good friend and Lady, quoth Mabilia, beseech you let your Damsels sing it! I desire much to hear it, seeing it was made by that Knight, my cousin. The Damsels then sung the song, which it was a pleasure to hear, and yet so sorrowful that it made those sad who heard it. But Oriana, who understood the complaint, could no longer abide there for the shame of the tears that she felt flowing, and she went to her chamber. Mabilia therefore said to Corisanda, I see Oriana is unwell; she hath for courtesy remained here longer than she should: I must go and assist her; but tell me what manner of man was he whom you saw upon the Poor Rock of the

Hermitage, and what did he know concerning Amadis? She then told her how they had found him, that she had never seen a man so comely in grief and being wasted, nor one of such manners in poverty, nor a man so young of such discourse and reason. Mabilia forthwith went joyfully to her friend's chamber. He who asks news, said she, sometimes learns more than he expects: the melancholy man who lives upon the Poor Rock, and calls himself Beltenebros, by all that I can learn from Corisanda, must be Amadis. Oriana lifted up her hands, O Lord of the World, grant that it be true! Dear friend, tell me what to do, for I have neither sense nor judgment: unfortunate wretch, who by my own folly and intemperate passion have lost all my happiness! Mabilia turned away her face, that the tears might not be seen: we must wait for the Damsel's return, said she; if she should not find him, leave it to me: I am sure he is this Beltenebros.

FOOTNOTES:

[156:A] This is the version in the English translation from the French: the matter is preserved, the manner lost. The poem is curious from its age; it is printed with these marks:

Pues seme niega victoria
dojusto mera deuida
alli do muere la gloria (:·:)
es gloria morir la vida.
Y con esta muerte mia
moriran todas mis daños,(:·:) (:·:)
mi esperanza y mi porfia
el amor y sus engaños;
mas quedara en mi memoria
lastima nunca perdida, (:·:)
que por me matar la gloria,
me mataron gloria y vida.