The damzell there arriving entred in ; Where sitting on the flore the hag she found Busie (as seem'd) about some wicked gin: Who, soone as she beheld that suddein stound, Lightly upstarted from the dustie ground, And with fell looke and hollow deadly gaze Stared on her awhile, as one astound,
Ne had one word to speake for great amaze; But shewd by outward signes that dread her sence did daze.
At last, turning her feare to foolish wrath, She askt, What devill had her thether brought, And who she was, and what unwonted path Had guided her, unwelcomed, unsought? To which the damzell full of doubtfull thought Her mildly answer'd; "Beldame, be not wroth With silly virgin, by adventure brought Unto your dwelling, ignorant and loth, [blo'th." That crave but rowme to rest while tempest over-
With that adowne out of her christall eyne Few trickling teares she softly forth let fall, That like two orient perles did purely shyne Upon her snowy cheeke; and therewithall She sighed soft, that none so bestiall Nor salvage hart but ruth of her sad plight Would make to melt, or pitteously appall; And that vile hag, all were her whole delight In mischiefe, was much moved at so pitteous sight;
And gan recomfort her, in her rude wyse, With womanish compassion of her plaint, Wiping the teares from her suffused eyes, And bidding her sit downe to rest her faint And wearie limbs awhile: she nothing quaint Nor 'sdeignfull of so homely fashion, Sith brought she was now to so hard constraint, Sate downe upon the dusty ground anon;
As glad of that small rest, as bird of tempest gon.
Tho gan she gather up her garments rent, And her loose lockes to dight in order dew With golden wreath and gorgeous ornament; Whom such whenas the wicked hag did vew, She was astonisht at her heavenly hew, And doubted her to deeme an earthly wight, But or some goddesse, or of Dianes crew, And thought her to adore with humble spright: Tadore thing so divine as beauty were but right.
This wicked woman had a wicked sonne, The comfort of her age and weary dayes, A laesy loord, for nothing good to donne, But stretched forth in ydlenesse alwayes, Ne ever cast bis mind to covet prayse, Or ply himselfe to any honest trade; But all the day before the sunny rayes He us'd to slug, or sleepe in slothfull shade: Such laesinesse both lewd and poore attonce him made.
He, comming home at undertime, there found The fayrest creature that he ever saw Sitting beside his mother on the ground; The sight whereof did greatly him adaw, And his base thought with terror and with aw So inly smot, that as one, which hath gaz'd On the bright Sunne unwares, doth soone withdraw His feeble eyne with too much brightnes daz'd ; So stared he on her, and stood long while amaz'd.
Softly at last be gan his mother aske, What mister wight that was, and whence deriv'd, That in so straunge disguizement there did maske, And by what accident she there arriv'd? But she, as one nigh of her wits depriv'd, With nought but ghastly lookes him answered; Like to a ghost, that lately is reviv'd From Stygian shores where late it wandered: So both at her, and each at other wondered.
But the fayre virgin was so meeke and myld, That she to them vouchsafed to embace Her goodly port, and to their senses vyld Her gentle speach applyde, that in short space p She grew familiare in that desert place. During which time the chorle, through her so kind And courteise use, conceiv'd affection bace, And cast to love her in his brutish mind; No love, but brutish lust, that was so beastly tind.
Closely the wicked flame his bowels brent, And shortly grew into outrageous fire; Yet had he not the bart, nor hardiment, As unto her to utter his desire;
His caytive thought durst not so high aspire: But with soft sighes and lovely semblaunces He ween'd that his affection entire She should aread; many resemblaunces
To her he made, and many kinde remembraunces.
Oft from the forrest wildings he did bring, Whose sides empurpled were with styling red; And oft young birds, which he had taught to sing His maistresse praises sweetly caroled: Girlonds of flowres sometimes for her faire bed He fine would dight; sometimes the squirrel wild He brought to her in bands, as conquered
To be her thrall, his fellow-servant vild:
All which she of him tooke with countenance meeke and mild.
But, past a while, when she fit season saw To leave that desert mansion, she cast In secret wize herselfe thence to withdraw, For feare of mischiefe, which she did forecast Might by the witch or by her sonne compast: Her weare palfrey, closely as she might, Now well recovered after long repast, His late miswandred wayes now to remeasure right. In his proud furnitures she freshly dight,
And earely, ere the dawning day appear'd, She forth issewed, and on her iourney went ; She went in perill, of each noyse affeard, And of each shade that did itselfe present; For still she feared to be overhent
Of that vile hag, or her uncivile sonne ; Who when, too late awaking, well they kent That their fayre guest was gone, they both begonne To make exceeding mone as they had beene undonne.
But that lewd lover did the most lament For her depart, that ever man did heare; He knockt, his brest with desperate intent, And scratcht his face, and with his teeth did teare His rugged flesh, and rent his ragged heare: That his sad mother seeing his sore plight Was greatly woe-begon, and gan to feare Least his fraile senses were emperisht quight, And love to frenzy turnd; sith love is franticke hight.
All wayes shee sought him to restore to plight, With herbs, with charms, with counsell, and with teares;
But tears, nor charms, nor herbs, nor counsell, might. Asswage the fury which his entrails teares : So strong is passion that no reason heares! Tho, when all other helpes she saw to faile, She turnd herselfe backe to her wicked leares; And by her divelish arts thought to prevaile To bring her backe againe, or worke her finall bale.
Eftsoones out of her hidden cave she cald An hideous beast of horrible aspect, That could the stoutest corage have appald; Monstrous, mishapt, and all his backe was spect With thousand spots of colours queint elect; Thereto so swifte that it all beasts did pas: Like never yet did living eie detect; But likest it to an hyena was
That feeds on wemens flesh, as others feede on gras.
It forth she cald, and gave it streight in charge Through thicke and thin her to poursew apace, Ne once to stay to rest, or breath at large, Till her hee had attaind and brought in place, Or quite devourd her beauties scornefull grace. The monster, swifte as word that from her went, Went forth in haste, and did her footing trace So sure and swiftly, through his perfect sent And passing speede, that shortly he her overhent.
Whom when the fearefull damzell nigh espide, No need to bid her fast away to flie; That ugly shape so sore her terrifide, That it she shund no lesse then dread to die; And her flitt palfrey did so well apply His nimble feet to her conceived feare,
That whilest his breath did strength to him supply, From perill free he her away did beare; But, when his force gan faile, his pace gan wex areare.
Which whenas she perceiv'd, she was dismayd At that same last extremity ful sore, And of her safety greatly grew afrayd: And now she gan approch to the sea shore, As it befell, that she could flie no more, But yield herselfe to spoile of greedinesse : Lightly she leaped, as a wight forlore, From her dull horse, in desperate distresse, And to her feet betooke her doubtfull sickernesse.
Not halfe so fast the wicked Myrrha fled From dread of her revenging fathers hond; Nor halfe so fast to save her maydenhed Fled fearefull Daphne on th' Ægæan strond; As Florimell fled from that monster yond, To reach the sea ere she of him were raught: For in the sea to drowne herselfe she fond, Rather then of the tyrant to be caught: [taught. Thereto fear gave her wings, and need her corage
It fortuned (High God did so ordaine) As shee arrived on the roving shore, In minde to leape into the mighty maine, A little bote lay hoving her before, In which there slept a fisher old and pore, The whiles his nets were drying on the sand: Into the same shee lept, and with the ore Did thrust the shallop from the floting strand : So safety fownd at sea, which she fownd not at land.
There well perceivd he that it was the horse Whereon faire Florimell was wont to ride, That of that feend was rent without remorse : Much feared he least ought did ill betide To that faire maide, the flowre of wemens pride; For her he dearely loved, and in all His famous conquests highly magnifide: Besides, her golden girdle, which did fall From her in flight, he fownd, that did him sore apall.
Full of sad feare and doubtfull agony Fiercely he flew upon that wicked feend; And with huge strokes and cruell battery Him forst to leave his pray, for to attend Himselfe from deadly daunger to defend : Full many wounds in his corrupted flesh He did engrave, and muchell blood did spend, Yet might not doe him die; but aie more fresh And fierce he still appeard, the more he did him thresh.
He wist not how him to despoile of life, Ne how to win the wished victory, Sith him he saw still stronger grow through strife, And himselfe weaker through infirmity: Greatly he grew enrag'd, and furiously Hurling his sword away he lightly lept Upon the beast, that with great cruelty Rored and raged to be underkept; Yet he perforce him held, and strokes upon him hept.
As he that strives to stop a suddein flood, And in strong bancks his violence enclose, Forceth it swell above his wonted mood, And largely overflow the fruitfull plaine, That all the countrey seemes to be a maine, And the rich furrowes flote, all quite fordonne: The wofull husbandman doth lowd complaine To see his whole yeares labor lost so soone, For which to God he made so many an idle boone.
So him he held, and did through might amate: So long he held him, and him bett so long, That at the last his fiercenes gan abate, And meekely stoup unto the victor strong: Who, to avenge the implacable wrong Which he supposed donne to Florimell, Sought by all meanes bis dolor to prolong, Sith dint of steele his carcas could not quell; His maker with her charmes had framed him so well.
The golden ribband, which that virgin wate About her sclender waste, he tooke in hand, And with it bownd the beast that lowd did rore For great despight of that unwonted band, Yet dared not his victor to withstand, But trembled like a lambe fled from the pray: And all the way him followd on the strand, As he had long bene learned to obay; Yet never learned he such service till that day.
Thus as he led the beast along the way, He spide far off a mighty giauntesse Fast flying, on a courser dapled gray, From a bold knight that with great hardinesse Her hard pursewd, and sought for to suppresse: She bore before her lap a dolefull squire, Lying athwart her horse in great distresse, Fast bounden hand and foote with cords of wire, Whom she did meane to make the thrall of her desire.
Which whenas Satyrane beheld, in haste He lefte his captive beast at liberty, And crost the nearest way, by which he cast Her to encounter ere she passed by; But she the way shund nathëmore forthy, But forward gallopt fast; which when he spyde, His mighty speare he couched warily, And at her ran; she, having him descryde, Herselfe to fight addrest, and threw her lode aside. Like as a goshauke, that in foote doth beare A trembling culver, having spide on hight An eagle that with plumy wings doth sheare The subtile ayre stouping with all his might, The quarrey throwes to ground with fell despight, And to the batteill doth herselfe prepare: So ran the geauntesse unto the fight; Her fyrie eyes with furious sparkes did stare, And with blasphemous bannes High God in peeces
She caught in hand an huge great yron mace, Wherewith she many had of life depriv'd; But, ere the stroke could seize his aymed place, His speare amids her sun-brode shield arriv'd; Yet nathëmore the steele asonder riv'd, all were the beame in bignes like a mast, Ne her out of the stedfast sadle driv'd; But, glauncing on the tempred metall, brast In thousand shivers, and so forth beside her past.
Her steed did stagger with that puissaunt strooke; But she no more was moved with that might Then it had lighted on an aged oke, Or on the marble pillour that is pight Upon the top of mount Olympus hight, For the brave youthly champions to assay With burning charet wheeles it nigh to smite; But who that smites it mars his ioyous play, And is the spectacle of ruinous decay.
Yet, therewith sore enrag'd, with sterne regard Her dreadfull weapon she to him addrest, Which ou his helmet martelled so hard That made him low incline his lofty crest, And bowd his battred visour to his brest: Wherewith he was so stund that he n'ote ryde, But reeled to and fro from east to west: Which when his cruell enimy espyde, She lightly unto him adioyned syde to syde;
And, on his collar laying puissant hand, Out of his wavering seat him pluckt perforse, Perforse him pluckt unable to withstand Or helpe himselfe; and laying thwart her horse, In loathly wise like to a carrion corse, She bore him fast away: which when the knight That her pursewed saw, with great remorse He neare was touched in his noble spright, And gan encrease his speed as she encreast her flight.
Whom whenas nigh approching she espyde, She threw away her burden angrily; For she list not the batteill to abide, But made herselfe more light away to fly: Yet her the hardy knight pursewd so nye That almost in the backe he oft her strake: But still, when him at hand she did espy, She turnd, and semblaunce of faire fight did make; But, when he stayd, to flight againe she did her take.
By this the good sir Satyrane gan wake Out of his dreame that did him long entrance, And, seeing none in place, he gan to make Exceeding mone, and curst thet cruell chaunce Which reft from him so faire a chevisaunce: At length he spyde whereas that wofull squyre, Whom he had reskewed from captivaunce Of his strong foe, lay tombled in the myre, Unable to arise, or foot or hand to styre.
To whom approching, well he mote perceive In that fowle plight a comely personage And lovely face, made fit for to deceive Fraile ladies hart with loves consuming rage, Now in the blossome of his freshest age: He reard him up and loosd his yron bands, And after gan inquire his parentage, And who that was which chaced her along the lands. And how he fell into that gyaunts hands,
Then trembling yet through feare the squire bespake; "That geauntesse Argantè is behight,
A daughter of the Titans which did make Warre against Heven, and heaped hils on hight To scale the skyes and put love from his right: Her syre Typhoeus was; who, mad through merth, And dronke with blood of men slaine by his might, Through incest her of his owne mother Earth Whylome begot, being but halfe twin of that berth;
"For at that berth another babe she bore; To weet, the mightie Ollyphant, that wrought Great wreake to many errant knights of yore, And many hath to foule confusion brought. These twinnes, men say, (a thing far passing thought) Whiles in their mothers wombe enclosed they were, Ere they into the lightsom world were brought, In fleshly lust were mingled both yfere, And in that monstrous wise did to the world appere.
"So liv'd they ever after in like sin, Gainst natures law and good behaveoure: But greatest shame was to that maiden twin; Who, not content so fowly to devoure
Her native flesh and staine her brothers bowre, Did wallow in all other fleshly myre, And suffred beastes her body to deflowre; So whot she burned in that lustfull fyre: Yet all that might not slake her sensuall desyre:
"But over all the countrie she did raunge, To seeke young men to quench her flaming thrust, And feed her fancy with delightfull chaunge: Whom so she fittest findes to serve her lust, Through her maine strength, in which she most doth She with her bringes into a secret ile, [trust, Where in eternall bondage dye he must, Or be the vassall of her pleasures vile,
And in all shamefull sort himselfe with her defile.
σε But that bold knight, whom ye pursuing saw That geauntesse, is not such as she seemd, But a faire virgin that in martial law And deedes of armes above all dames is deemd, And above many kuightes is eke esteemd For her great wroth: she Palladine is hight: She you from death, you me from dread, redeemd: Ne any may that monster match in fight, But she, or such as she, that is so chaste a wight."
"Her well beseemes that quest," quoth Satyrane: "But read, thou Squyre of Dames, what vow is this, Which thou upon thyselfe hast lately ta'ne?" "That shall I you recount," quoth he, "ywis, So be ye pleasd to pardon all amis. That gentle lady whom love and serve, After long suit and wearie servicis, Did aske me how I could her love deserve, And how she might be sure that I would never swerve.
"I, glad by any meanes her grace to gaine, Badd her commaund my life to save or spill: Eftsoones she badd me with incessaunt paine To wander through the world abroad at will, And every where, where with my power or skill" I might doe service unto gentle dames, That I the same should faithfully fulfill; And at the twelve monethes end sbould bring their
And pledges, as the spoiles of my victorious games.
"So well I to faire ladies service did,
And found such favour in their loving hartes, That, ere the yeare his course had compassid, Three hundred pledges for my good desartes, Ane thrice three hundred thanks for my good partes, I with me brought and did to her present: Which when she saw, more bent to eke my smartes Then to reward my trusty true intent, She gan for me devise a grievous punishment;
"To weet, that I my traveill should résume, And with like labour walke the world arownd, Ne ever to her presence should presume, Till I so many other dames had fownd, The which, for all the suit I could propownd, Would me refuse their pledges to afford, But did abide for ever chaste and sownd." "Ah! gentle squyre,” quoth he, “** tell at one word, How many fownd'st thou such to put in thy record?” "Indeed, sir Knight," said he, " one word may tell All that I ever fownd so wisely stayd, For onely three they were disposd so well; And yet three yeares I now abrode have strayd, To find them out."-" Mote I," then laughing sayd The knight," inquire of thee what were those three, The which thy proffred curtesie denayd? Or ill they seemed sure avizd to bee,
Or brutishly brought up, that nev'r did fashions see."
"The first which then refused me," said hee, "Certes was but a common courtisane; Yet flat refusd to have adoe with mee, Because I could not give her many a jane." (Thereat full hartely laughed Satyrane.) "The second was an holy nunne to chose, Which would not let me be her chappellane, Because she knew, she sayd, I would disclose Her counsell, if she should her trust in me repose.
"The third a damzell was of low degree, Whom I in countrey cottage fownd by chaunce: Full litle weened I that chastitee
Had lodging in so meane a maintenaunce; Yet was she fayre, and in her countenaunce Dwelt simple truth in seemely fashion: Long thus I woo'd her with due observaunce, In hope unto my pleasure to have won; But was as far at last, as when I first begon.
"Safe her, I never any woman found That chastity did for itselfe embrace, But were for other causes firme and sound; Either for want of handsome time and place, Or else for feare of shame and fowle disgrace. Thus am I hopelesse ever to attaine My ladies love, in such a desperate case, But all my dayes am like to waste in vaine, Seeking to match the chaste with th' unchaste ladies traine."
"Perdy, sayd Satyrane, "thou Squyre of Dames, Great labour fondly hast thou hent in hand, To get small thankes, and therewith many blames; That may emongst Alcides labours stand." Thence backe returning to the former land, Where late he left the beast he overcame, He found him not; for he had broke his band, And was returnd againe unto his dame, To tell what tydings of fayre Florimell became.
The witch creates a snowy la
dy like to Florimell;
Who wrong'd by carle, by Proteus sav'd, Is sought by Paridell.
So oft as I this history record,
My hart doth melt with meere compassion, To thinke how causelesse of her owne accord This gentle damzell, whom I write upon, Should plonged be in such affliction, Without all hope of comfort or reliefe; That sure I weene the hardest hart of stone Would hardly finde to aggravate her griefe: For misery craves rather mercy then repriefe.
But that accursed hag, her hostesse late, Had so enranckled her malitious hart, That she desyrd th' abridgement of her fate, Or long enlargement of her painefull smart. Now when the beast, which by her wicked art Late foorth she sent, she backe retourning spyde Tyde with her golden girdle; it a part Of her rich spoyles whom he had earst destroyd She weend, and wondrous gladnes to her hart ap- plyde:
And, with it ronning hastly to her sonne, Thought with that sight him much to have reliv'd; Who, thereby deeming sure the thing as donne, His former griefe with furie fresh reviv'd
Instead of eyes two burning lampes she set In silver sockets, shyning like the skyes, And a quicke moving spirit did arret To stirre and roll them like to womens eyes: Instead of yellow lockes she did devyse With golden wyre to weave her curled head: Yet golden wyre was not so yellow thryse As Florimells fayre heare: and, in the stead Of life, she put a spright to rule the carcas dead;
A wicked spright, yfraught with fawning guyle And fayre resemblance above all the rest, Which with the Prince of Darkencs fell somewhyle From Heavens blis and everlasting rest:
Him needed not instruct which way were best Himselfe to fashion likest Florimell,
Ne how to speake, ne how to use his gest; For he in counterfesaunce did excell,
And all the wyles of wemens wits knew passing well.
Him shaped thus she deckt in garments gay, Which Florimell had left behind her late; That whoso then her saw, would surely say It was herselfe whom it did imitate, Or fayrer then herselfe, if ought algate Might fayrer be. And then she forth her brought Unto her sonne that lay in feeble state; Who seeing her gan s reight upstart, and thought She was the lady selfe whom he so long had sought.
Tho, fast her clipping twixt his armes twayne, Extremely ioyed in so happy sight, And soone forgot his former sickely payne: But she, the more to seeme such as she hight,
Much more than earst, and would have algates riv'd Coyly rebutted his embracement light;
The hart out of his brest: for sith her dedd He surely dempt, himselfe he thought depriv'd Quite of all hope wherewith he long had fedd His foolish malady, and long time had misledd.
With thought whereof exceeding mad he grew, And in his rage his mother would have slaine, Had she not fled into a secret mew, Where she was wont her sprightes to entertaine, The maisters of her art: there was she faine To call them all in order to her ayde, And them conjure, upon eternall paine, To counsell her so carefully dismayd
How she might heale her sonne whose senses were decayd.
By their advice, and her owne wicked wit, She there deviz'd a wondrous worke to frame, Whose like on Earth was never framed yit; That even Nature selfe envide the same, And grudg'd to see the counterfet should shame The thing itselfe: in hand she boldly tooke To make another like the former dame, Another Florimell, in shape and looke So lively, and so like, that many it mistooke.
The substance, whereof she the body made, Was purest snow in massy mould congeald, Which she had gathered in a shady glade Of the Riphoan hils, to her reveald By errant sprights, but from all men conceald : The same she tempred with fine mercury And virgin wex that never yet was seald, And mingled them with perfect vermily; That like a lively sanguine it seemd to the eye. VOL IIL
Yet still, with gentle countenaunce, retain'd Enough to hold a foole in vaine delight: Him long she so with shadowes entertain'd, As her creatresse had in charge to her ordain'd:
Till on a day, as he disposed was
To walke the woodes with that his idole faire, Her to disport and idle time to pas
In th' open freshnes of the gentle aire, A knight that way there chaunced to repaire; Yet knight he was not, but a boastfull swaine That deedes of armes had ever in despaire, Proud Braggadochio, that in vaunting vaine His glory did repose and credit did maintaine.
He, seeing with that chorle so faire a wight Decked with many a costly ornament, Much merveiled thereat, as well he might, And thought that match a fowle disparagement: His bloody speare eftesoones he boldly bent Against the silly clowne, who dead through feare Fell streight to ground in great astonishment: 46 Villein," ," sayd he, "this lady is my deare; Dy, if thou it gainesay: I will away her beare.” The fearefull chorle durst not gainesay nor dooe, But trembling stood, and yielded him the pray; Who, finding title leasure her to wooe, On Tromparts steed her mounted without stay, And without reskew led her quite away. Proud man himselfe then Braggadochio deem'd, And next to none, after that happy day, Being possessed of that spoyle, which seem'd The fairest wight on ground and most of men esteem'd.
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