Through hils and dales, through bushes and through breres,
Long thus fhe fled, till that at last she thought
Herfelfe now past the perill of her feares:
Then looking round about, and feeing nought,
Which doubt of daunger to her offer mought,
She from her palfrey lighted on the plaine;
And fitting downe herselfe awhile bethought
Of her long travell and turmoyling paine;
And often did of love, and oft of lucke complaine.
XXXIII.
And evermore she blamed Calepine,
The good fir Calepine, her owne true knight,
As th'onely author of her wofull tine
For being of his love to her fo light,
As her to leave in fuch a piteous plight ::
Yet never turtle truer to his make,,
Then he was tride unto his lady bright:
Who all this while endured for her fake
Great perill of his life, and restleffe paines did take..
XXXIV.
Tho whenas all her plaints she had displayd,
And well disburdened her engrieved breft,,
Upon the graffe herselfe adowne she layd;,
Where being tyrde with travell, and oppreft
With forrow, fhe betooke herselfe to rest::
There whileft in Morpheus bosome safe she lay,
Feareleffe of ought that mote her
peace.molest,
Falfe fortune did her safety betray
Unto a ftraunge mischaunce, that menac'd her decay..
XXXV.
In these wylde deferts, where fhe now abode,
There dwelt a falvage nation, which did live
Of stealth and spoile, and making nightly rode
Into their neighbours borders; ne did give
Themselves to any trade (as for to drive.
The painefull plough, or cattell for to breed,,
Or. by adventrous merchandize to thrive)
But on the labours of poor men to feed,
And ferve their owne neceffities with others need.
Thereto they ufde one most accurfed order,
To eate the flesh of men, whom they mote fynde,
And ftraungers to devoure, which on their border
Were brought by errour or by wreckfull wynde:
A monftrous cruelty gainst course of kynde!
They towards evening wandering every way
To feeke for booty, came by fortune blynde
Whereas this lady, like a fheepe aftray,
Now drowned in the depth of fleepe all feareleffe lay.
XXXVII.
Soone as they spide her, lord! what gladfull glee
They made amongst themselves! but when her face
Like the faire yvory fhining they did fee,
Each gan his fellow folace and embrace
For ioy of fuch good hap by heavenly grace.
Then gan they to devize what course to take,
Whether to flay her there upon the place,
Or fuffer her out of her fleepe to wake,
And then her eate attonce, or many meales to make.
XXXVIII.
The best advizement was of bad, to let her
Sleepe out her fill without encomberment;
For fleepe, they fayd, would make her battill better:
Then when she wakt, they all gave one confent
That fince by grace of god she there was sent,
Unto their god they would her facrifize,
Whose share, her guiltleffe bloud they would prefent;
But of her dainty flesh they did devize
To make a common feast, and feed with gurmandize.
So round about her they themselves did place
Upon the graffe, and diversely difpofe,
As each thought beft to spend the lingring space:
Some with their eyes the dainteft morfels chose;
Some praise her paps, fome praise her lips and nofe;
Some whet their knives, and ftrip their elboes bare:
The priest himselfe a garland doth compofe
Of finest flowers, and with full bufie care
His bloudy veffels wash, and holy fire prepare.
The damzell wakes; then all attonce upstart,
And round about her flocke, like many flies,
Whooping and hallowing on every part,
As if they would have rent the brafen skies.
Which when she fees with ghaftly griefful eies,
Her heart does quake, and deadly pallid hew
Benumbes her cheekes: then out aloud she cries,
Where none is nigh to heare, that will her rew,
And rends her golden locks, and fnowy brefts embrew.
XLI.
But all bootes not: they hands upon her lay;
And first they spoile her of her iewels deare,
And afterwards of all her rich array;
The which amongst them they in peeces teare,
And of the pray each one a part doth beare.
Now being naked, to their fordid eyes
The goodly threasures of nature appeare:
Which as they view with luftfull fantasyes,
Each wifheth to himfelfe, and to the reft envyes.
XLII.
Her yvorie neck, her alablaster brest,
Her paps, which like white filken pillowes were
For Love in foft delight thereon to rest;
Her tender fides, her bellie white and clere,
Which like an altar did itselfe uprere
To offer facrifice divine thereon;
Her goodly thighs, whose glorie did appeare
Like a triumphall arch, and thereupon
The spoiles of princes hang'd, which were in battel won.
XLIII.
Those daintie parts, the dearlings of delight,
Which mote not be prophan'd of common eyes,
Those villeins vew'd with loose lascivious fight,
And closely tempted with their craftie spyes;
And some of them gan mongst themselves devize
Thereof by force to take their beastly pleasure :
But them the priest rebuking did advize
To dare not to pollute fo facred threasure
Vow'd to the gods: religion held even theeves in measure.
So being stayd, they her from thence directed
Unto a litle grove not farre asyde,
In which an altar fhortly they erected,
To flay her on and now the eventyde
His brode black wings had through the heavens wyde
By this difpred, that was the tyme ordayned
For fuch a difmall deed, their guilt to hyde :
Of few greene turfes an altar foone they fayned,
And deckt it all with flowres, which they nigh hand obtayned.
Tho whenas all things readie were aright,
The damzell was before the altar fet,
Being alreadie dead with fearefull fright :
To whom the priest with naked armes full net
Approching nigh, and murdrous knife well whet,
Gan mutter close a certaine fecret charme,
With other divelish ceremonies met:
Which doen, he gan aloft t'advance his arme,
Whereat they shouted all, and made a loud alarme.
Then gan the bagpypes and the hornes to fhrill
And shrieke aloud, that with the peoples voyce
Confused, did the ayre with terror fill,
And made the wood to tremble at the noyce:
The whyles the wayld, the more they did reioyce.
Now mote ye understand that to this grove
Sir Calepine by chaunce more then by choyce
The felfe fame evening fortune hether drove,
As he to feeke Serena through the woods did rove.
XLVII.
Long had he fought her, and through many a foyle
Had traveld still on foot in heavie armes,
Ne ought was tyred with his endleffe toyle,
Ne ought was feared of his certaine harmes :
And now all weetleffe of the wretched ftormes,
In which his love was loft, he flept full faft,
Till being waked with these loud alarmes,
He lightly started up like one aghaft,
And catching up his arms ftreight to the noife forth past.
There by th❜uncertaine glims of starry night,
And by the twinkling of their facred fire,
He mote perceive a litle dawning fight
Of all, which there was doing in that quire:
Mongst whom a woman spoyld of all attire
He spyde, lamenting her unluckie ftrife,
And groning fore from grieved hart entire :
Eftfoones he saw one with a naked knife
Readie to launch her breft, and let out loved life.
XLIX.
With that he thrusts into the thickest throng;
And even as his right hand adowne defcends,
He him preventing, lays on earth along,
And facrifizeth to th'infernall feends:
Then to the reft his wrathfull hand he bends
Of whom he makes fuch havocke and fuch hew,
That fwarmes of damned foules to hell he fends:
The reft, that scape his fword and death eschew,
Fly like a flocke of doves before a faulcons vew.
From them returning to that ladie backe,
Whom by the altar he doth fitting find,
Yet fearing death, and next to death the lacke
Of clothes to cover what the ought by kind ;
He first her hands beginneth to unbind,
And then to question of her prefent woe;
And afterwards to cheare with speaches kind:
But fhe, for nought that he could fay or doe,
One word durft fpeake, or anfwere him a whit thereto.
So inward shame of her uncomely cafe
She did conceive, through care of womanhood,
That though the night did cover her difgrace,
Yet fhe in fo unwomanly a mood
Would not bewray the ftate in which she stood:
So all that night to him unknown she past:
But day, that doth discover bad and good,
Enfewing, made her knowen to him at last:
The end whereof Ile keepe untill another cast, ·
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