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The whole atchievement of this doubtfull
At last, with creeping crooked pace forth Came running fast to greet his victorie, With sober gladnesse and myld modestie, An old old man, with beard as white as And with sweet joyous cheare him thus be
That on a staffe his feeble steps did frame, • Fayre braunch of noblesse, flowre of cheval And guyde his wearie gate both too and rie,
fro; That with your worth the world amazed For his eye sight him fayled long ygo: make,
And on his arme a bounch of keyes he bore, How shall I quite the paynes, ye suffer for The which unused rust did overgrow: my sake?
Those were the keyes of every inner dore,
But he could not them use, but kept them XXVII
still in store. * And you, fresh budd of vertue springing fast,
XXXI Whom these sad eyes saw nigh unto deaths But very uncouth sight was to behold, dore,
How he did fashion his untoward pace, What bath poore virgin for such perill past | For as he forward moovd his footing old, Wherewith you to reward ? Accept there- So backward still was turnd his wrincled fore
face, My simple selfe, and service evermore: Unlike to men, who ever as they trace, And He that high does sit, and all things Both feet and face one way are wont to
lead. With equall eye, their merites to restore, This was the auncient keeper of that place, Behold what ye this day have done for mee, And foster father of the gyaunt dead; And what I cannot quite, requite with His name Ignaro did his nature right usuree.
XXXII • But sith the heavens, and your faire His reverend heares and holy gravitee
The knight much honord, as beseemed Have made you master of the field this day,
well, Your fortune maister eke with governing. And gently askt, where all the people bee, And well begonne end all so well, I pray. Which in that stately building wont to Ne let that wicked woman scape away;
dwell: For she it is, that did my lord bethrall, Who answerd him full soft, He could not My dearest lord, and deepe in dongeon lay,
tell. Where he his better dayes hath wasted all. Againe he askt, where that same knight O heare, how piteous he to you for ayd
was layd, does call.
Wbom great Orgoglio with his puissa unce
Had made his caytive thrall: againe he Forthwith he gave in charge unto his squyre, sayde, That scarlot whore to keepen carefully; He could not tell: ne ever other answere Whyles he himselfe with greedie great made. desyre
XXXIII Into the castle entred forcibly; Where living creature none he did espye. Then asked he, which way he in might Then gan he lowdly through the house to
He could not tell, againe he answered. But no man card to answere to his crye. Thereat the courteous knight displeased There raignd a solemne silence over all,
was, Nor voice was heard, nor wight was seene And said: “Old syre, it seemes thou hast in bowre or hall.
Had madergoglio with hi
How ill it fits with that same silver hed, At last he came unto an yron doore,
all With natures pen, in ages grave degree, Emongst that bounch to open it withall; Aread in graver wise what I demaund of But in the same a little grate was pight, thee.'
Through which he sent his voyce, and lowd
did call XXXIV
With all his powre, to weet if living wight His answere likewise was, He could not tell. Were housed therewithin, whom he enWhose sencelesse speach and doted igno largen might.
rance When as the noble Prince had marked well,
XXXVIII He ghest his nature by his countenance, Therewith an hollow, dreary, murmuring And calmd his wrath with goodly temper
These pitteous plaintes and dolours did reThen to him stepping, from his arme did
• O who is that, which bringes me happy Those keyes, and made himselfe free
Of death, that here lye dying every stound, Each dore he opened without any breach; Yet live perforce in balefull darkenesse There was no barre to stop, nor foe him to
bound ? empeach.
For now three moones have changed thrice
their hew, XXXV
And have beene thrice hid underneath the There all within full rich arayd he found,
ground, With royall arras and resplendent gold, Since I the heavens chearefull face did And did with store of every thing abound,
vew. That greatest princes presence might behold. O welcome, thou, that doest of death bring But all the floore (too filthy to be told)
tydings trew!' With blood of guiltlesse babes, and innocents trew,
XXXIX Which there were slaine, as sheepe out of | Which when that champion heard, with the fold,
percing point Defiled was, that dreadfull was to vew, Of pitty deare his hart was thrilled sore, And sacred ashes over it was strowed new. And trembling horrour ran through every
For ruth of gentle knight so fowle forlore: And there beside of marble stone was built Which shaking off, he rent that yron An altare, carv'd with cunning ymagery, On which trew Christians blood was often With furious force and indignation fell; spilt,
Where entred in, his foot could find no And holy martyres often doen to dye,
flore, With cruell malice and strong tyranny: But all a deepe descent, as darke as hell, Whose blessed sprites from underneath the That breathed ever forth a filthie banefull stone
smell. To God for vengeance cryde continually, And with great griefe were often heard to
But nether darkenesse fowle, nor filthy That hardest heart would bleede to heare
bands, their piteous mone.
Nor noyous smell his purpose could with
(Entire affection hateth nicer hands) Through every rowme he sought, and But that with constant zele, and corage everie bowr,
bold, But no where could he find that wofull thrall: | After long paines and labors manifold,
He found the meanes that prisoner up to Had no delight to treaten of his griefe; reare;
His long endured famine needed more reWhose feeble thighes, unhable to uphold
liefe. His pined corse, him scarse to light could beare,
XLIV A ruefull spectacle of death and ghastly • Faire lady,' then said that victorious drere.
•The things, that grievous were to doe, or XLI
beare, His sad dull eies, deepe sunck in hollow Them to renew, I wote, breeds no delight; pits,
Best musicke breeds dislike in loathing Could not endure th' unwonted sunne to
But th' only good, that growes of passed His bare thin cheekes for want of better
Is to be wise, and ware of like agein. And empty sides deceived of their dew, | This daies ensample hath this lesson deare Could make a stony hart his hap to rew; Deepe written in my heart with yron His rawbone armes, whose mighty brawned
That blisse may not abide in state of morWere wont to rive steele plates, and hel
tall men. mets hew, Were clene consum'd, and all his vitall powres
· Henceforth, sir knight, take to you wonted Decayd, and al his flesh shronk up like
strength, withered flowres.
And maister these mishaps with patient
Loe wher your foe lies stretcht in monstrous Whome when his lady saw, to him she ran
length, With basty joy: to see him made her glad, And loe that wicked woman in your sight, And sad to view his visage pale and wan, The roote of all your care and wretched Who earst in flowres of freshest youth was
Now in your powre, to let her live, or die.' Tho, when her well of teares she wasted To doe her die,' quoth Una, were de
had, She said: " Ah, dearest lord ! what evill | And shame t'avenge so weake an enimy; starre
But spoile her of her scarlot robe, and let On you hath frownd, and pourd his influ
her fly.' ence bad,
XLVI That of your selfe ye thus berobbed arre, And this misseeming hew your manly looks So, as she bad, that witch they disaraid, doth marre ?
And robd of roiall robes, and purple pall,
And ornaments that richly were displaid; XLIII
Ne spared they to strip her naked all. But welcome now, my lord, in wele or Then, when they had despoyld her tire and woe,
call, Whose presence I have lackt too long a Such as she was, their eies might her beday;
hold, And fye on Fortune, mine avowed foe, | That her misshaped parts did them appall, Whose wrathful wreakes them selves doe | A loathly, wrinckled hag, ill favoured, old, now alay,
Whose secret filth good manners biddeth And for these wronges shall treble penaunce not be told.
pay Of treble good: good growes of evils priefe.' The chearelesse man, whom sorow did | Her crafty head was altogether bald, dismay,
And, as in hate of honorable eld,
Was overgrowne with scurfe and filthy scald;
CANTO IX Her teeth out of her rotten gummes were feld,
His loves and ligpage Arthure tells : And her sowre breath abhominably smeld;
The knighta knitt friendly bands :
Sir Trevisan flies from Despeyre, Her dried dugs, lyke bladders lacking wind,
Whom Redcros Knight withstands. Hong downe, and filthy matter from them
weld; Her wrizled skin, as rough as maple rind,
1 O GOODLY golden chayne! wherewith yfere So scabby was, that would have loathd all The vertues linked are in lovely wize, womankind.
And noble mindes of yore allyed were,
That none did otbers safety despize, Her neather parts, the shame of all her | Nor aid envy to him, in need that stands, kind,
But friendly each did others praise devize My chaster Muse for shame doth blush to How to advaunce with favourable hands,
As this good Prince redeemd the RedBut at her rompe she growing had behind crosse Knight from bands. A foxes taile, with dong all fowly dight; And eke her feete most monstrous were in sight;
Who when their powres, empayrd through For one of them was like an eagles claw,
labor long, With griping talaunts armd to greedy fight, With dew repast they had recured well, The other like a beares uneven paw: | And that weake captive wight now wexed More ugly shape yet never living creature
Them list no lenger there at leasure dwell,
But forward fare, as their adventures fell: XLIX
But ere they parted, Una faire besought Which when the knights beheld, amazd That straunger knight his name and nation they were,
tell; And wondred at so fowle deformed wight. Least so great good, as he for her had •Such then,' said Una, as she seemeth here,
wrought, Such is the face of Falshood, such the sight Should die unknown, and buried be in Of fowle Duessa, when her borrowed light thankles thought. Is laid away, and counterfesaunce knowne.' Thus when they had the witch disrobed quight,
• Faire virgin,' said the Prince, 'yee me And all her filthy feature open showne,
require They let her goe at will, and wander waies | A thing without the compas of my witt: unknowne
For both the lignage and the certein sire,
yitt. Shee, flying fast from heavens hated face, For all so soone as life did me admitt And from the world that her discovered Into this world, and shewed hevens light, wide,
From mothers pap I taken was unfitt, Fled to the wastfull wildernesse apace, And streight deliver'd to a Fary knight, From living eies her open shame to hide, To be upbrought in gentle thewes and marAnd lurkt in rocks and caves, long un
tiall might. espide. But that faire crew of knights, and Una
• Unto old Timon he me brought bylive, Did in that castle afterwards abide,
Old Timon, who in youthly yeares hath To rest them selves, and weary powres re
In warlike feates th' expertest man alive, Where store they fownd of al that dainty And is the wisest now on earth I weene: was and rare.
| His dwelling is low in a valley greene,
Under the foot of Rauran mossy hore,
Ne ever will their fervent fury slake, From whence the river Dee, as silver cleene, Till living moysture into smoke do flow, His tombling billowes rolls with gentle rore: And wasted life doe lye in ashes low. There all my daies he traind mee up in Yet sithens silence lesseneth not my fire, vertuous lore.
But, told, it flames, and, hidden, it does
I will revele what ye so much desire: • Thether the great magicien Merlin came, | Ah Love! lay down thy bow, the whiles I As was his use, ofttimes to visitt mee;
It was in freshest flowre of youthly Of what loines and what lignage I did
When corage first does creepe in manly Whose aunswere bad me still assured bee,
chest; That I was sonne and heire unto a king, Then first the cole of kindly heat appeares, As time in her just term the truth to light To kindle love in every living brest: should bring.'
But me had warnd old Timons wise behest,
Those creeping flames by reason to subdew, VI
Before their rage grew to so great unrest, "Well worthy impe,' said then the lady gent, | As miserable lovers use to rew, • And pupill fitt for such a tutors band? Which still wex old in woe, whiles wo stil But what adventure, or what high intent,
wexeth new. Hath brought you hether into Fary Land, Aread, Prince Arthure, crowne of martiall band ?'
That ydle name of love, and lovers life, Full hard it is,' quoth he, to read aright As losse of time, and vertues enimy, The course of heavenly cause, or under I ever scornd, and joyd to stirre up strife
In middest of their mournfull tragedy, The secret meaning of th' Eternall Might, Ay wont to laugh, when them I heard to cry, That rules mens waies, and rules the And blow the fire, which them to ashes thoughts of living wight.
brent: Their god himselfe, grievd at my libertie,
Shott many a dart at me with fiers intent, •For whether He through fatal deepe fore But I them warded all with wary governsight
ment. Me hither sent, for cause to me unghest,
. XI Or that fresh bleeding wound, which day and night
But all in vaine: no fort can be so strong, Whilome doth rancle in my riven brest, Ne fleshly brest can armed be so sownd, With forced fury following his behest, But will at last be wonne with battrie long, Me hether brought by wayes yet never Or unawares at disavantage fownd: found,
Nothing is sure that growes on earthly You to have helpt I hold my selfe yet grownd: blest.'
And who most trustes in arme of fleshly • Ah ! courteous knight,' quoth she, “what might, secret wound
And boastes, in beauties chaine not to be Could ever find to grieve the gentlest hart bownd, on ground ?
Doth soonest fall in disaventrous fight,
most despight. .
XII Which, troubled once, into huge flames will Ensample make of him your haplesse joy, grow,
And of my selfe now mated, as ye see;