IX
With that, adowne out of her christall eyne
Few trickling teares she softly forth let fall,
That like to orient perles did purely shyne 75
Upon her snowy cheeke; and there withall
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 80
In mischiefe, was much moved at so pitteous sight;
X
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 85
And wearie limbs awhile. She nothing quaint
Nor s’deignfull 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. 90
XI
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, 95
And doubted her to deeme an earthly wight,
But or some goddesse, or of Dianes crew,
And thought her to adore with humble spright:
T’ adore thing so divine as beauty were but right.
XII
This wicked woman had a wicked sonne, 100
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 his mind to covet prayse,
Or ply him selfe to any honest trade, 105
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.
XIII
He, comming home at undertime, there found
The fayrest creature that he ever saw 110
Sitting beside his mother on the ground;
The sight whereof did greatly him adaw,
And his base thought with terrour and with aw
So inly smot, that, as one which hath gaz’d
On the bright sunne unwares, doth soone withdraw 115
His feeble eyne, with too much brightnes daz’d,
So stared he on her, and stood long while amaz’d.
XIV
Softly at last he gan his mother aske,
What mister wight that was, and whence deriv’d,
That in so straunge disguizement there did maske, 120
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; 125
So both at her, and each at other wondered.
XV
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 130
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. 135
XVI
Closely the wicked flame his bowels brent,
And shortly grew into outrageous fire;
Yet had he not the hart, nor hardiment,
As unto her to utter his desire;
His caytive thought durst not so high aspire: 140
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.
XVII
Oft from the forrest wildings he did bring, 145
Whose sides empurpled were with smyling red,
And oft young birds, which he had taught to sing
His maistresse praises sweetly caroled;
Girlonds of flowres sometimes for her faire hed
He fine would dight; sometimes the squirrell wild 150
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.
XVIII
But, past awhile, when she fit season saw
To leave that desert mansion, she cast 155
In secret wize her selfe thence to withdraw,
For feare of mischiefe, which she did forecast
Might be by the witch or that her sonne compast:
Her wearie palfrey closely, as she might,
Now well recovered after long repast, 160
In his proud furnitures she freshly dight,
His late miswandred wayes now to remeasure right.
XIX
And earely, ere the dawning day appeard,
She forth issewed, and on her journey went;
She went in perill, of each noyse affeard, 165
And of each shade that did it selfe 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 170
To make exceeding mone, as they had beene undonne.
XX
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 175
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. 180
XXI
All wayes shee sought, him to restore to plight,
With herbs, with charms, with counsel, 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. 185
Tho, when all other helpes she saw to faile,
She turnd her selfe backe to her wicked leares,
And by her divelish arts thought to prevaile,
To bring her backe againe, or worke her finall bale.
XXII
Eftesoones out of her hidden cave she cald 190
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: 195
Like never yet did living eie detect;
But likest it to an hyena was,
That feeds on wemens flesh, as others feede on gras.
XXIII
It forth she cald, and gave it streight in charge,
Through thicke and thin her to poursew apace, 200
Ne once to stay to rest, or breath at large,
Till her he 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 205
So sure and swiftly, through his perfect sent
And passing speede, that s
hortly he her overhent.
XXIV
Whom when the fearefull damzell nigh espide,
No need to bid her fast away to flie;
That ugly shape so sore her terrifide, 210
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: 215
But when his force gan faile, his pace gan wex areare.
XXV
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, 220
As it befell, that she could flie no more,
But yield her selfe 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. 225
XXVI
Not halfe so fast the wicked Myrrha fled
From dread of her revenging fathers hond,
Nor halfe so fast, to save her maydenhed,
Fled fearfull Daphne on th’ Ægæan strond,
As Florimell fled from that monster yond, 230
To reach the sea ere she of him were raught:
For in the sea to drowne her selfe she fond,
Rather then of the tyrant to be caught:
Thereto fear gave her wings, and need her corage taught.
XXVII
It fortuned (High God did so ordaine) 235
As shee arrived on the roring 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: 240
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.
XXVIII
The monster, ready on the pray to sease,
Was of his forward hope deceived quight, 245
Ne durst assay to wade the plerous seas,
But, greedily long gaping at the sight,
At last in vaine was forst to turne his flight,
And tell the idle tidings to his dame:
Yet, to avenge his divelishe despight, 250
He sett upon her palfrey tired lame,
And slew him cruelly, ere any reskew came.
XXIX
And after having him embowelled,
To fill his hellish gorge, it chaunst a knight
To passe that way, as forth he traveiled: 255
Yt was a goodly swaine, and of great might,
As ever man that bloody field did fight;
But in vain sheows, that wont yong knights bewitch,
And courtly services tooke no delight,
But rather joyd to bee then seemen sich: 260
For both to be and seeme to him was labor lich.
XXX
It was to weete the good Sir Satyrane,
That raungd abrode to seeke adventures wilde,
As was his wont, in forest and in plaine:
He was all armd in rugged steele unfilde, 265
As in the smoky forge it was compilde,
And in his scutchin bore a satyres hedd:
He comming present, where the monster vilde
Upon that milke-white palfreyes carcas fedd,
Unto his reskew ran, and greedily him spedd. 270
XXXI
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; 275
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.
XXXII
Full of sad feare and doubtfull agony, 280
Fiercely he flew upon that wicked feend;
And with huge strokes and cruell battery
Him forst to leave his pray, for to attend
Him selfe from deadly daunger to defend:
Full many wounds in his corrupted flesh 285
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.
XXXIII
He wist not how him to despoile of life,
Ne how to win the wished victory, 290
Sith him he saw still stronger grow through strife,
And him selfe weaker through infirmity:
Greatly he grew enrag’d, and furiously
Hurling his sword away, he lightly lept
Upon the beast, that with great cruelty 295
Rored and raged to be undcrkept;
Yet he perforce him held, and strokes upon him hept.
XXXIV
As he that strives to stop a suddein flood,
And in strong bancks his violence containe,
Forceth it swell above his wonted mood, 300
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, 305
For which to God he made so many an idle boone:
XXXV
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: 310
Who, to avenge the implacable wrong,
Which he supposed donne to Florimell,
Sought by all meanes his dolor to prolong,
Sith dint of steele his carcas could not quell,
His maker with her charmes had framed him so well. 315
XXXVI
The golden ribband, which that virgin wore
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, 320
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.
XXXVII
Thus as he led the beast along the way, 325
He spide far of 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, 330
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.
XXXVIII
Which whenas Satyrane beheld, in haste
He lefte his captive beast at liberty, 335
And crost the nearest way, by which he cast
Her to encounter ere she passed by:
But she the way shund nathemore forthy,
But forward gallopt fast; which when he spyde,
His mighty speare he couched warily, 340
And at her ran: she having him descryde,
Her selfe to fight addrest, and threw her lode aside.
XXXIX
Like as a goshauke, that in foote doth beare
&nb
sp; A trembling culver, having spide on hight
An eagle, that with plumy wings doth sheare 345
The subtile ayre, stouping with all his might,
The quarrey throwes to ground with fell despight,
And to the batteill doth her selfe prepare:
So ran the geauntesse unto the fight;
Her fyrie eyes with furious sparkes did stare, 350
And with blasphemous bannes High God in peeces tare.
XL
She caught in hand an huge great yron mace,
Where with 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; 355
Yet nathemore the steele a sonder 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. 360
XLI
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, 365
For the brave youthly champions to assay,
With burning charet wheeles it nigh to smite:
But who that smites it mars his joyous play,
And is the spectacle of ruinous decay.
XLII
Yet there with sore enrag’d, with sterne regard 370
Her dreadfull weapon she to him addrest,
Which on his helmet martelled so hard,
That made him low incline his lofty crest,
And bowd his battred visour to his brest:
Where with he was so stund that he n’ote ryde, 375
But reeled to and fro from east to west:
Which when his cruell enimy espyde,
She lightly unto him adjoyned syde to syde;
XLIII
And on his collar laying puissaunt hand,
Out of his wavering seat him pluckt perforse, 380
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 385
He nere was touched in his noble spright,
And gan encrease his speed, as she encreast her flight.
XLIV
Whom when as nigh approching she espyde,
She threw away her burden angrily;
For she list not the batteill to abide, 390
But made her selfe 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; 395
Complete Works of Edmund Spenser Page 63