Her scattered brood, soon as their parent dear
They saw so rudely falling to the ground,
Groaning full deadly all with troublous fear,
Gathered themselves about her body round,
Weening their wonted entrance to have found
At her wide mouth; but, being there withstood,
They flocked all about her bleeding wound,
And sucked up their dying mother's blood;

Making her death their life, her hurt their present good.

That sight detestable him much amazed,

To see the unkindly imps, of heaven accurst,
Devour their dam; on which while so he gazed,
Having all satisfied their bloody thirst,

Their bellies swoln he saw with fulness burst,

And bowels gushing forth: well worthy end

Of such as drunk her life, the which them nurs'd:
Now needeth him no longer labour spend,

His foes have slain themselves, with whom he should contend.

His lady, seeing all that chanced from far,
Approached in haste to greet his victory,
And said, 'Fair knight, born under happy star,
'Who see your vanquished foes before you lie,
'Well worthy be you of that armory,

C Wherein you have great glory won this day,
'And proved your strength on a strong enemy;
"Your first adventure: many such, I pray,

And henceforth ever wish, that like succeed they may.'

Then mounted he upon his steed again,

And with the lady backward sought to wend:
That path he kept, which beaten was most plain,
Nor ever would to any bye-way bend;

But still did follow one unto the end,

The which at last out of the wood them brought.
So forward on his way, with God to friend,
He passed forth, and new adventure sought:
Long way he travelled, before he heard of aught.
At length they chanced to meet upon the way
An aged sire, in long black weeds beclad,
His feet all bare, his beard all hoary gray,
And by his belt his book he hanging had;
Sober he seemed, and very sagely sad;
And to the ground his eyes were lowly bent,
Simple in show, and void of malice bad;
And all the way he prayed as he went,

And often knock'd his breast, as one that did repent.

He fair the knight saluted, bowing low,
Who fair requited, as that courteous was;
And after asked him, if he did know

Of strange adventures, which abroad did pass.

Ah, my dear son,' quoth he, 'how should, alas !

Silly old man, that lives in hidden cell,

Telling his beads all day for his trespass,

Tidings of war and worldly trouble tell?

With holy father sits not with such things to mell.' [meddle]

'But if of danger, which hereby doth dwell, "And home-bred evil, ye desire to hear,

Of a strange man I can you tidings tell,
'That wasteth all this country far and near.'
'Of such,' said he,' I chiefly do inquire;

And shall thee well reward to shew the place,
In which that wicked wight his days doth wear:
'For to all knighthood it is foul disgrace,
That such a cursed creature lives so long a space.'

'Far hence,' quoth he, in wasteful wilderness His dwelling is, by which no living wight

May ever pass, but all through great distress.'

6 Now,' said the lady, 'draweth toward the night; 'And well I wot that by your later fight 'You greatly wearied are; for what so strong, 'But, wanting rest, will also want of might? 'The sun, that measures heaven all day long, 'At night doth bait his steeds the ocean waves among.' Then with the sun take, sir, your timely rest, And with new day new works at once begin: 'Untroubled night, they say, gives counsel best.' Right well, sir knight, ye have advised been,' Quoth then that aged man, the way to win 'Is wisely to advise. Now day is spent:

Therefore with me ye may take up your in

For this same night.' The knight was well content :

So with that godly father to his home they went.

A little lowly hermitage it was,

Down in a dale, hard by a forest's side,
Far from resort of people, that did pass
In travel to and fro: a little wide
There was a holy chapel edified,
Wherein the hermit duly wont to say
His holy things each morn and eventide :
Thereby a crystal stream did gently play,
Which from a sacred fountain welled forth alway.

.

Arrived there the little house they fill,

Nor look for entertainment where none was;
Rest is their feast, and all things at their will:
The noblest mind the best contentment has.
With fair discourse the evening so they pass;
For that old man of pleasing words had store,

And well could file his tongue as smooth as glass;
He told of saints and popes, and evermore

He strewed an Ave-Mary after and before.

The drooping night thus creepeth on them fast;
And the sad humour loading their eye-lids,
As messenger of Morpheus on them cast

Sweet slumbering dew, the which to sleep them bids.
Unto their lodgings then his guests he rids:
Where when all drowned in deadly sleep he finds,
He to his study goes; and there amidst

His magic books, and arts of sundry kinds,

He seeks out mighty charms to trouble sleepy minds.
Then choosing out few words most horrible,
(Let none them read,) thereof did verses frame :
With which, and other spells like terrible,
He bade awake black Pluto's grizzly dame;
And cursed heaven; and spake reproachful shame
Of highest God, the Lord of life and light.
A bold bad man! that dared to call by name
Great Gorgon, prince of darkness and dead night;
At which Cocytus quakes, and Styx is put to flight.

And forth he called out of deep darkness dread
Legions of sprites, the which, like little flies,
Fluttering about his ever-damned head,
Await whereto their service he applies,
To aid his friends, or fray his enemies :
Of those he chose out two, the falsest two,
And fittest for to forge true-seeming lies;
The one of them he gave a message to,
The other by himself stayed other work to do.

He, making speedy way through outspread air,
And through the world of waters wide and deep,
To Morpheus' house doth hastily repair.
Amid the bowels of the earth, full steep
And low, where dawning day doth never peep
His dwelling is; there Tethys his wet bed
Doth ever wash; and Cynthia still doth steep
In silver dew his ever drooping head;

While sad Night over him her mantle black doth spread;

Whose double gates he findeth locked fast;
The one fair framed of burnished ivory,
The other all with silver overcast ;
And wakeful dogs before them far do lie,
Watching to banish Care their enemy,
Who oft is wont to trouble gentle Sleep.
By them the sprite doth pass in quietly,

And unto Morpheus comes, whom drowned deep
In drowsy fit he finds; of nothing he takes keep.

And more to lull him in his slumber soft,

A trickling stream from high rock tumbling down,

And ever drizzling rain upon the loft,

Mixed with a murmuring wind, much like the sowne [sound]
Of swarming bees, did cast him in a swoune. [swoon]
No other noise, nor people's troublous cries,

As still are wont to annoy the walled town,
Might there be heard: but careless Quiet lies
Wrapt in eternal silence far from enemies.

The messenger approaching to him spake;
But his waste words returned to him vain :
So sound he slept that nought might him awake.
Then rudely he him thrust, and pushed with pain,
Whereat he gan to stretch; but he again
Shook him so hard that forced him to speak.
As one then in a dream, whose drier brain
Is tost with troubled sights and fancies weak,

He mumbled soft, but would not all his silence break.

The sprite began more boldly him to wake,
And threatened unto him the dreaded name
Of Hecaté; whereat he gan to quake,
And, lifting up his lumpish head, with blame,
Half angry, asked him for what he came.
'Hither,' quoth he, 'me ARCHIMAGO sent,
'He that the stubborn sprites can wisely tame,
'He bids thee to him send for his intent

'A fit false Dream, that can delude the sleeper's scent.'
The god obeyed; and, calling forth straight way
A diverse dream out of his prison dark,
Delivered it to him, and down did lay
His heavy head, devoid of careful cark,

Whose senses all were straight benumbed and stark.
He, back returning by the ivory door,
Remounted up as light as cheerful lark;
And on his little wings the Dream he bore
In haste unto his lord, where he him left afore.

Who all this while with charms and hidden arts,
Had made a lady of that other sprite,

And framed of liquid air her tender parts,
So lively, and so like in all men's sight,

That weaker sense it could have ravished quite :
The maker's self, for all his wondrous wit,
Was nigh beguiled with so goodly sight.
Her all in white he clad, and over it

Cast a black robe, most like to seem for UNA fit.
Now when that idle Dream was to him brought,
Unto that REDCROSS knight he bade him fly,
Where he slept soundly, void of evil thought,
And with false shows abuse his fantasy,
In sort as he him schooled privily.

The fraudful sprite, transformed to creature new,
Full of the maker's guile, with usage sly

He taught to imitate that lady true,

Whose semblance she did carry under feigned hue.

Thus, well instructed, to their works they haste;
And coming where the knight in slumber lay,
The one upon his hardy head him placed,
And made him dream of loves and lustful play,
That nigh his manly heart did melt away,
Bathed in wanton bliss and wicked joy:
Then seemed to him his lady by him lay,
And to him plained, how that false winged boy

Her chaste heart had subdued to learn dame Pleasure's toy.
And she herself, of beauty sovereign queen,
Fair Venus, seemed unto his bed to bring
Her, whom he, waking, evermore did ween
To be the chastest flower that ere did spring
On earthly branch, the daughter of a king;
Now a loose leman to vile service bound:
And now the Graces seemed all to sing,
HYMEN IO HYMEN, dancing all around;
Whilst freshest Flora her with ivy garland crowned.
In this great passion of unwonted lust,
Or wonted fear of doing aught amiss,
He starteth up, as seeming to mistrust
Some secret ill, or hidden foe of his :
Lo, there before his face his lady is,
Under black cloak hiding her baited hook;
And, as half blushing, offered him to kiss,
With gentle blandishment, and lovely look,

Most like that virgin true, who for her knight him took.