Your owne deare fake forft me at first to leave
My fathers kingdom,-there the stopt with teares;
Her fwollen hart her fpeech feemd to bereave:
And then againe begun, My weaker yeares,
Captiv'd to fortune and frayle worldly feares,
Fly to your fayth for fuccour and fure ayde:
Let me not die in languor and long teares.
Why, dame, quoth he, what bath ye thus difmay'd?
What frayes ye, that were wont to comfort me affrayd?
Love of your felfe, fhe faide, and deare constraint
Lets me not fleepe, but waste the wearie night
In fecret anguish and unpittied plaint,
Whiles you in carelesse fleepe are drowned quight.
Her doubtfull words made that redoubted knight
Sufpect her truth; yet fince no' untruth he knew,
Her fawning love with foule difdainefull fpight
He would not fhend, but faid, Deare dame, I rew,
That for my fake unknowne such griefe unto you grew.
Affure your felfe, it fell not all to ground;
For all fo deare as life is to my hart,
I deeme love, and hold me to bound:
Ne let vaine fears procure your needlesse smart,
Where caufe is none; but to your reft depart.
Not all content, yet seemd she to appease
Her mournefull plaintes, beguiled of her art,
And fed with words, that could not chofe but please:
So flyding foftly forth fhe turnd as to her ease.
Long after lay he mufing at her mood,
Much griev'd to thinke that gentle dame fo light,
For whofe defence he was to fhed his blood.
At last dull wearines of former fight
Having yrockt asleep his irkesome spright,
That troublous dreame gan freshly toffe his braine
With bowres, and beds, and ladies deare delight:
But when he saw his labour all was vaine,
With that misformed spright he backe returnd againe.
The guilefull great enchaunter parts
The redcroffe knight from Truth:
Into whofe ftead faire Falfhood fteps,
And workes him woefull ruth.
Y this the northerne wagoner had fet
His fevenfold teme behind the stedfast starre,.
That was in ocean waves yet never wet ;
But firme is fixt, and fendeth light from farre
To all, that in the wide deepe wandring arre:
And chearefull chaunticlere with his note shrill
Had warned once, that Phoebus fiery carre
In haft was climbing up the easterne hill,
Full envious that night so long his roome did fill.
When those accurfed meffengers of hell,
That feigning dreame, and that faire-forged spright,
Came to their wicked maister, and gan tell
Their booteleffe paines, and ill-fucceeding night ::
Who all in rage to see his skilfull might
Deluded fo, gan threaten hellish paine
And fad Proferpines wrath, them to affright.
But when he faw his threatning was but vaine,
He caft about, and searcht his baleful bokes againe..
Eftfoones he tooke that mifcreated faire,
And that false other spright, on whom he spred
A feeming body of the fubtile aire,
Like a young fquire, in loves and luftyhed
His wanton daies that ever loosely led,
Without regard of armes and dreaded fight :
Those two he tooke, and in a secrete bed,
Covered with darkenes and misdeeming night,
Them both together laid, to joy in vaine, delight.
Forthwith he runnes with feigned-faithfull hast
Unto his guest, who after troublous fights
And dreames gan now to take more found repaft;
Whom fuddenly he wakes with fearful frights,
As one aghaft with feends or damned sprights,
And to him calls, Rife, rife, unhappy fwaine,
That here wex old in fleepe, whiles wicked wights
Have knit themselves in Venus shameful chaine :
Come fee where your falfe lady doth her honor ftaine.
V.
All in amaze he fuddenly up start
With fword in hand, and with the old man went;
Who foone him brought into a secret part,
Where that false couple were full closely ment
In wanton luft and leud enbracement:
Which when he faw, he burnt with gealous fire;
The eie of reason was with rage yblent;
And would have flaine them in his furious ire,
But hardly was reftreined of that aged fire.
Retourning to his bed in torment great,
And bitter anguifh of his guilty fight,
He could not rest, but did his ftout heart eat,
And wast his inward gall with deepe, defpight,
Yrkefome of life, and too long lingring night.
At last faire Hefperus in highest skie
Had spent his lampe, and brought forth dawning light;
Then up he rofe, and clad him haftily;
The dwarfe him brought his fteed; fo both away do fly.
Now when the rofy-fingred Morning faire,
Weary of aged Tithones faffron bed,
Had fpread her purple robe through deawy aire;
And the high hils Titan discovered;
The royall virgin shooke off drousyhed :
And rifing forth out of her bafer bowre,
Lookt for her knight, who far away was fled,
And for her dwarfe, that wont to wait each howre: Then gan fhe wail and weepe to fee that woeful ftowre.
And after him she rode with so much speede,
As her flowe beast could make; but all in vaine:
For him fo far had borne his light-foot steede,
Pricked with wrath and fiery fierce difdaine,
That him to follow was but fruitlesse paine :
Yet the her weary limbes would never reft;
But every hil and dale, each wood and plaine,
Did fearch, fore grieved in her gentle brest,
He fo ungently left her, whome she loved best.
IX.
But fubtill Archimago, when his guests
He faw divided into double parts,
And Una wandring in woods and forrests,
(Th'end of his drift,) he praifd his divelish arts,
That had such might over true-meaning harts:
Yet refts not fo, but other meanes doth make,
How he may worke unto her further fmarts:
For her he hated as the hiffing fnake,
And in her many troubles did most pleasure take..
X.
He then devifde himselfe how to disguise;
For by his mighty science he could take
As many
formes and shapes in seeming wife,
As ever Proteus to himselfe could make :
Sometime a fowle, fometime a fish in lake,
Now like a foxe, now like a dragon fell;
That of himselfe he ofte for feare would quake,
And oft would flie away. o who can tell
The hidden powre of herbes, and might of magick spell?
But now seemde best the person to put on
Of that good knight, his late beguiled guest..
In mighty armes he was yclad anon,
And filver shield; upon his coward brest
A bloody croffe, and on his craven crest
A bounch of heares discolourd diverfly..
Full iolly knight he seemde, and wel addreft;
And when he fate uppon his courfer free,
Saint George himselfe ye would have deemed him to be.
But he, the knight, whofe femblaunt he did beare,
The true faint George, was wandred far away,
Still flying from his thoughts and gealous feare :
Will was his guide, and griefe led him aftray.
At last him chaunft to meete upon the way
A faithleffe Sarazin, all armde to point,
In whose great shield was writ with letters gay
SANSFOY: full large of limbe and every
He was, and cared not for God or man a point.
XIII.
Hee had a faire companion of his way,
A goodly lady clad in fcarlot red,
Purfled with gold and pearle of rich affay;
And like a Perfian mitre on her hed
Shee wore, with crowns and owches garnished,
The which her lavish lovers to her gave:
Her wanton palfrey all was overfpred
With tinfell trappings, woven like a wave,
Whose bridle rung with golden bels and boffes brave.
With faire difport, and courting dalliaunce,
She intertainde her lover all the way:
But when she saw the knight his fpeare advaunce,
Shee foone left off her mirth and wanton play,
And bad her knight addresse him to the fray;
His foe was nigh at hand. he, prickte with pride,
And hope to winne his ladies hearte that day,
Forth fpurred fast: adowne his courfers fide
The red bloud trickling staind the way, as he did ride.
The knight of the redcroffe, when him he spide
Spurring fo hote with rage difpiteous,
Gan fairely couch his fpeare, and towards ride.
Soone meete they both, both fell and furious,
That daunted with their forces hideous
Their steeds doe ftagger, and amazed stand;
And eke themselves, too rudely rigorous,
Aftonied with the ftroke of their owne hand,
Doe backe rebutte, and each to other yealdeth land.
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