Imágenes de página
PDF
ePub

XXXIII The morrow next gan earely to appeare, That Titan rose to runne his daily race; But earely, ere the morrow next gan reare Out of the sea faire Titans deawy face, Up rose the gentle virgin from her place, And looked all about, if she might spy Her loved knight to move his manly pace: For she had great doubt of his safety, Since late she saw him fall before his enimy.

XXXIV At last she saw, where he upstarted brave Out of the well, wherein he drenched lay: As eagle fresh out of the ocean wave, Where he hath lefte his plumes all hory

gray, And deckt himselfe with fethers youthly

gay, Like eyas hauke up mounts unto the skies, His newly budded pineons to assay, And merveiles at him selfe, stil as he flies: So new this new-borne knight to battell new

did rise.

As hundred ramping lions seemd to rore, Whom ravenous hunger did thereto con

straine: Then gan he tosse aloft his stretched traine, And therewith scourge the buxome aire so

sore, That to his force to yielden it was faine; Ne ought his sturdy strokes might stand

afore, That high trees overthrew, and rocks in peeces tore.

XXXVIII The same advauncing high above his head, With sharpe intended sting so rude him

smott, That to the earth him drove, as stricken

dead, Ne living wight would have him life behott: The mortall sting his angry needle shott Quite through his shield, and in his shoulder

seasd, Where fast it stucke, ne would thereout be

gott: The griefe thereof him wondrous sore dis

easd, Ne might his rancling paine with patience

be appeasd.

XXXV Whom when the damned feend so fresh

did spy, No wonder if he wondred at the sight, And doubted, whether his late enimy It were, or other new supplied knight. He, now to prove his late renewed might, High brandishing his bright deaw-burning

blade, Upon his crested scalp so sore did smite, That to the scull a yawning wound it made: The deadly dint his dulled sences all dis

maid.

XXXVI

I wote not whether the revenging steele
Were hardned with that holy water dew,
Wherein he fell, or sharper edge did feele,
Or his baptized hands now greater grew,
Or other secret vertue did ensew;
Els never could the force of fleshly arme,
Ne molten mettall, in his blood embrew:
For till that stownd could never wight him

harme, By subtilty, nor slight, nor might, nor mighty charme.

XXXVII The cruell wound enraged him so sore, That loud he yelled for exceeding paine;

XXXIX But yet more mindfull of his honour deare Then of the grievous smart, which him did

wring, From loathed soile he can him lightly reare, And strove to loose the far in fixed sting: Which when in vaine he tryde with strug

geling, Inflam'd with wrath, his raging blade he

hefte, And strooke so strongly, that the knotty

string Of his huge taile he quite a sonder clefte; Five joints thereof he hewd, and but the stump him lefte.

XL Hart cannot thinke, what outrage and what

cries, With fowle enfouldred smoake and flashing The hell-bred beast threw forth unto the That all was covered with darknesse dire: Then fraught with rancour, and engorged

fire,

skies,

yre,

pire.

XLVI

He cast at once him to avenge for all, As burning Aetna from his boyling stew And gathering up himselfe out of the mire Doth belch out flames, and rockes in peeces With his uneven wings, did fiercely fall

broke, Upon his sunne-bright shield, and grypt it | And ragged ribs of mountaines molten new, fast withall.

Enwrapt in coleblacke clowds and filthy

smoke, XLI

That al the land with stench, and heven Much was the man encombred with his with horror choke.

hold, In feare to lose his weapon in his paw,

XLV Ne wist yett how his talaunts to unfold; The heate whereof, and harmefull pestiFor harder was from Cerberus greedy jaw

lence, To plucke a bone, then from his cruell claw So sore him noyd, that forst him to retire To reave by strength the griped gage away: A litle backeward for his best defence, Thrise he assayd it from his foote to draw, To save his body from the scorching fire, And thrise in vaine to draw it did assay; Which he from hellish entrailes did exIt booted nought to thinke to robbe him of his pray.

It chaunst (Eternall God that chaunce did

guide) XLII

As he recoiled backeward, in the mire Tho, when he saw no power might prevaile, | His nigh foreweried feeble feet did slide, His trusty sword he cald to his last aid, And downe he fell, with dread of shame Wherewith be fiersly did his foe assaile,

sore terrifide. And double blowes about him stoutly laid, That glauncing fire out of the yron plaid, As sparckles from the andvile use to fly, There grew a goodly tree him faire beside, When heavy hammers on the wedg are Loaden with fruit and apples rosy redd, Swaid;

As they in pure vermilion had beene dide, Therewith at last he forst him to unty Whereof great vertues over all were redd: One of his grasping feete, him to defend For happy life to all which thereon fedd, thereby.

And life eke everlasting did befall:

Great God it planted in that blessed stedd XLIII

With his Almighty hand, and did it call The other foote, fast fixed on his shield, The Tree of Life, the crime of our first Whenas no strength nor stroks mote him

fathers fall. constraine To loose, ne yet the warlike pledg to yield, He smott thereat with all his might and In all the world like was not to be fownd, maine,

Save in that soile, where all good things did That nought so wondrous puissaunce might

grow, sustaine:

And freely sprong out of the fruitfull Upon the joint the lucky steele did light,

grownd, And made such way, that hewd it quite in | As incorrupted Nature did them sow, twaine:

Till that dredd dragon all did overthrow. The paw yett missed not his minisht might, Another like faire tree eke grew thereby, But hong still on the shield, as it at first Whereof who so did eat, eftsoones did know was pight.

Both good and ill: O mournfull memory!
That tree through one mans fault hath doen

us all to dy.
For griefe thereof, and divelish despight,
From his infernall fournace forth be threw

XLVIII Huge flames, that dimmed all the hevens From that first tree forth flowd, as from a light,

well, Enrold in duskish smoke and brimstone A trickling streame of balme, most soverblew;

aine

XLVII

XLIV

LII

And dainty deare, which on the ground still From heven high to chace the chearelesse fell,

darke; And overflowed all the fertile plaine, With mery note her lowd salutes the As it had deawed bene with timely raine:

mounting larke. Life and long health that gracious ointment

gave, And deadly wounds could heale, and reare | Then freshly up arose the doughty knight. againe

All healed of his hurts and woundes wide, The sencelesse corse appointed for the And did himselfe to battaile ready dight; grave.

Whose early foe awaiting him beside Into that same he fell: which did from To have devourd, so soone as day he spyde, death him save.

When now he saw himselfe so freshly reare,

As if late fight had nought him damnifyde, XLIX

He woxe dismaid, and gan his fate to feare; For nigh thereto the ever damned beast | Nathlesse with wonted rage he him adDurst not approch, for he was deadly

vaunced neare. made, And al that life preserved did detest:

LIII Yet he it oft adventur'd to invade.

And in his first encounter, gaping wyde, By this the drouping day-light gan to fade, He thought attonce him to have swallowd And yield his rowme to sad succeeding I quight, night,

And rusht upon him with outragious pryde; Who with her sable mantle gan to shade Who him rencountring fierce, as hauke in The face of earth, and wayes of living

flight, wight,

Perforce rebutted backe. The weapon And high her burning torch set up in bright, heaven bright.

Taking advantage of his open jaw,
Ran through his mouth with so importune

might, When gentle Una saw the second fall That deepe emperst his darksom hollow Of her deare knight, who, weary of long maw, fight,

And, back retyrd, his life blood forth with And faint through losse of blood, moov'd all did draw.

not at all, But lay as in a dreame of deepe delight,

LIV Besmeard with pretious balme, whose vertu- So downe he fell, and forth his life did ous might

breath, Did heale his woundes, and scorching heat That vanisht into smoke and cloudes swift; alay,

So downe he fell, that th' earth him underAgaine she stricken was with sore affright,

neath And for his safetie gan devoutly pray, Did grone, as feeble so great load to lift; And watch the noyous night, and wait for So downe he fell, as an huge rocky clift, joyous day.

Whose false foundacion waves have washt

away, LI

With dreadfull poyse is from the mayneThe joyous day gan early to appeare,

land rift, And fayre Aurora from the deawy bed And, rolling downe, great Neptune doth Of aged Tithone gan her selfe to reare,

dismay; With rosy cheekes, for shame as blushing So downe he fell, and like an heaped mounred;

taine lay. Her golden locks for hast were loosely

shed About her eares, when Una her did marke The knight him selfe even trembled at his Clymbe to her charet, all with flowers

fall, spred,

So huge and horrible a masse it seemd;

LV

bye,

I

And his deare lady, that beheld it all, Which whenas trew by tryall he out fond, Durst not approch for dread which she He badd to open wyde his brasen gate, misdeemd;

Which long time had beene shut, and out But yet at last, whenas the direfull feend

of hond She saw not stirre, of-shaking vaine affright, Proclaymed joy and peace through all his She nigher drew, and saw that joyous end:

state; Then God she praysd, and thankt her faith For dead now was their foe, which them full knight,

forrayed late. That had atchievde so great a conquest by his might.

IV

Then gan triumphant trompets sownd on CANTO XII

That sent to beven the ecchoed report

Of their new joy, and happie victory
Fayre Una to the Redcrosse Knight

Gainst him, that had them long opprest
Betrouthed is with joy:

with tort,
Though false Duessa, it to barre,
Her false sleightes doe imploy.

And fast imprisoned in sieged fort.
Then all the people, as in solemne feast,

To him assembled with one full consort,
BEHOLD! I see the haven nigh at hand, Rejoycing at the fall of that great beast,
To which I meane my wearie course to From whose eternall bondage now they
bend;

were releast. Tere the maine shete, and beare up with the land,

v The which afore is fayrly to be kend, Forth came that auncient lord and aged And seemeth safe from storms that may

queene, offend:

Arayd in antique robes downe to the There this fayre virgin, wearie of her way,

grownd, Mast landed bee, now at her journeyes end; And sad habiliments right well beseene: Tbere eke my feeble barke a while may A noble crew about them waited rownd stay,

Of sage and sober peres, all gravely gownd; Til mery wynd and weather call her thence Whom far before did march a goodly band away.

Of tall young men, all hable armes to

sownd; II

But now they laurell braunches bore in Searsely had Phæbus in the glooming east

hand, Tett barnessed his fyrie-footed teeme, Glad signe of victory and peace in all their Se reard above the earth his flaming

land. creast, When the last deadly smoke aloft did

VI steeme,

Unto that doughtie conquerour they came, That signe of last outbreathed life did And him before themselves prostrating low, seeme

Their lord and patrone loud did him proInto the watchman on the castle wall; Who thereby dead that balefull beast did And at his feet their lawrell boughes did deeme,

throw. And to his lord and lady lowd gan call, Soone after them, all dauncing on a row, To tell, how he had seene the dragons fatall The comely virgins came, with girlands fall.

dight,

As fresh as flowres in medow greene doe III

grow, Cprose with basty joy, and feeble speed, When morning deaw upon their leaves That aged syre, the lord of all that land,

doth light: and looked forth, to weet if trew indeed And in their handes sweet timbrels all upThose tydinges were, as he did understand: 1 held on hight.

clame,

XI

VIII

fray;

XII

VII

Or in his wombe might lurke some hidden And them before, the fry of children yong

nest Their wanton sportes and childish mirth Of many dragonettes, his fruitfull seede; did play,

Another saide, that in his eyes did rest And to the maydens sownding tymbrels Yet sparckling fyre, and badd thereof take song,

heed; In well attuned notes, a joyous lay, Another said, he saw him move his eyes And made delightfull musick all the way,

indeed. Untill they came where that faire virgin

stood. As fayre Diana, in fresh sommers day, One mother, whenas her foolehardy chyld Beholdes her nymphes enraung'd in shady | Did come to neare, and with his talants wood,

play, Some wrestle, some do run, some bathe in Halfe dead through feare, her litle babe christall flood;

revyld, And to her gossibs gan in counsell say:

• How can I tell, but that his talants may So she beheld those maydens meriment Yet scratch my sonne, or rend his tender With chearefull vew; who, when to her

hand ?'" they came,

So diversly them selves in vaine they Themselves to ground with gracious humblesse bent,

Whiles some more bold, to measure him And her ador'd by honorable name,

nigh stand, Lifting to heven her everlasting fame: To prove how many acres he did spred of Then on her head they sett a girlond

land. greene, And crowned her twixt earnest and twixt game;

Thus flocked all the folke him rownd Who, in her self-resemblance well beseene,

about, Did seeme, such as she was, a goodly The whiles that hoarie king, with all his maiden queene.

traine, Being arrived where that champion stout

After his foes defeasaunce did remaine, And after all the raskall many ran,

Him goodly greetes, and fayre does enterHeaped together in rude rablement,

tayne To see the face of that victorious man; With princely gifts of yvory and gold, Whom all admired, as from heaven sent, And thousand thankes him yeeldes for all And gazd upon with gaping wonderment.

his paine: But when they came where that dead Then when his daughter deare he does bedragon lay,

hold, Stretcht on the ground in monstrous large | Her dearely doth imbrace, and kisseth extent,

manifold. The sight with ydle feare did them dis

may, Ne durst approch him nigh, to touch, or | And after to his pallace he them bringes, once assay.

With shaumes, and trompets, and with

clarions sweet;

And all the way the joyous people singes, Some feard and fledd; some feard, and | And with their garments strowes the paved well it faynd;

street; One, that would wiser seeme then all the Whence mounting up, they fynd purvey. rest,

aunce meet Warnd him not touch, for yet perhaps re- Of all that royall princes court became, maynd

And all the floore was underneath their Some lingring life within his hollow brest,

feet

IX

XIII

« AnteriorContinuar »