With heapéd strokes more hugely than before;
That with their dreary wounds, and bloody gore,
They both deformed, scarcely could be known.
By this, sad Una fraught with anguish sore,
Led with their noise which through the air was
thrown,
[sown.
Arriv'd, where they in earth their fruitless blood had
Whom all so soon as that proud Sarazin
Espied, he gan revive the memory
Of his lewd lusts, and late attempted sin;
And left the doubtful battle hastily,
To catch her, newly offer'd to his eye:
But Satyrane, with strokes him turning, stay'd,
And sternly bade him other business ply
Than hunt the steps of pure unspotted maid:
Wherewith he all enrag'd, these bitter speeches said;
'O foolish Faery's son, what fury mad
Hath thee incenst to haste thy doleful fate?
Were it not better I that Lady had,
Than that thou hadst repented it too late?
Most senseless man he, that himself doth hate
To love another: Lo then, for thine aid,
Here take thy lover's token on thy pate.'
So they to fight; the whiles the royal maid
Fled far away, of that proud Paynim sore afraid.
But that false pilgrim, which that leasing1 told,
Being indeed old Archimage, did stay
In secret shadow all this to behold;
And much rejoicéd in their bloody fray:
But, when he saw the damsel pass away,
He left his stand, and her pursu'd apace,
In hope to bring her to her last decay.1
But for to tell her lamentable case,
And eke this battle's end, will need another place.
CANTO VII.
The Redcross Knight is captive made,
By giant proud opprest:
Prince Arthur meets with Una great-
ly with those news distrest.
WHAT man so wise, what earthly wit so ware,2
As to descry the crafty cunning train,3
By which Deceit doth mask in visor fair,
And cast her colours dyéd deep in graine
To seem like Truth whose shape she well can fain,
And fitting gestures to her purpose frame,
The guiltless man with guile to entertain?
Great mistress of her art was that false dame,
The false Duessa, clokéd with Fidessa's name.
Who when, returning from the dreary Night,
She found not in that perilous House of Pride,
Where she had left, the noble Redcross Knight,
Her hopéd prey; she would no longer bide,
But forth she went to seek him far and wide.
Ere long she found, whereas he weary sate
To rest himself, foreby a fountain side,
Disarméd all of iron-coated plate;
And by his side his steed the grassy forage ate.
He feeds upon the cooling shade, and bayes
His sweaty forehead in the breathing wind, [plays,
Which through the trembling leaves full gently
Wherein the cheerful birds of sundry kind
Do chant sweet music, to delight his mind:
The witch approaching gan him fairly greet,
And with reproach of carelessness unkind
Upbraid, for leaving her in place unmeet,
With foul words temp'ring fair, sour gall with honey
sweet.
Unkindness past, they gan of solace treat,
And bathe in pleasance of the joyous shade,
Which shielded them against the boiling heat,
And, with green boughs decking a gloomy glade,
About the fountain like a garland made;
Whose bubbling wave did ever freshly well,
Ne1 ever would through fervent summer fade:
The sacred nymph, which therein wont to dwell,
Was out of Dian's favour, as it then befell.
The cause was this: One day, when Phoebe fair
With all her band was following the chase,
This nymph, quite tired with heat of scorching air
Sate down to rest in middest of the race:
The goddess, wroth, gan foully her disgrace,2
And bade the waters, which from her did flow,
Be such as she herself was then in place.
Thenceforth her waters waxéd dull and slow;
And all, that drunk thereof, did faint and feeble grow.
Hereof this gentle Knight unweeting 3 was;
And, lying down upon the sandy graile,1
Drank of the stream, as clear as crystal glass:
Eftsoones his manly forces gan to fail,
And mighty strong was turn'd to feeble frail.
His changéd powers at first themselves not felt;
Till curdled cold his courage gan assail,
And cheerful blood in faintness chill did melt, Which, like a fever fit, through all his body swelt.1
Yet goodly court he made still to his dame,
Pour'd out in looseness on the grassy ground,
Both careless of his health, and of his fame:
Till at the last he heard a dreadful sound,
Which through the wood loud bellowing did re-
bound,
That all the earth for terror seem'd to shake,
And trees did tremble. Th'Elfe, therewith astound,
Upstarted lightly from his looser make,2
And his unready weapons gan in hand to take.
But ere he could his armour on him dight,
Or get his shield, his monstrous enemy,
With sturdy steps came stalking in his sight,
An hideous giant, horrible and high,
That with his tallness seem'd to threat the sky;
The ground eke groaned under him for dreed:
His living like saw never living eye,
Ne durst behold; his stature did exceed
The height of three the tallest sons of mortal seed.
The greatest Earth his úncouth mother was,
And blust'ring Eolus his boasted sire;
Who with his breath, which through the world doth
Her hollow womb did secretly inspire,
And fill'd her hidden caves with stormy ire,
That she conceiv'd; and trebling the due time,
In which the wombs of women do expire,
Brought forth this monstrous mass of earthly slime,
Puft
up with empty wind, and fill'd with sinful crime.
So growen great, through arrogant delight
Of th' high descent whereof he was yborn,
And through presumption of his matchless might,
All other pow'rs and knighthood he did scorn.
Such now he marcheth to this man forlorn,
And left to loss; his stalking steps are stay'd
Upon a snaggy1 oak, which he had torn
Out of his mother's bowels, and it made
His mortal mace, wherewith his foemen he dismay'd.
That, when the Knight he spied, he gan advance
With huge force and insupportable maine,2
And towards him with dreadful fury prance;
Who hapless, and eke3 hopeless, all in vain
Did to him pace sad battle to darrayne,
Disarm'd, disgraste, and inwardly dismay'd;
And eke so faint in every joint and vein,
Through that frail fountain, which him feeble made, That scarcely could he wield his bootless single blade.
The giant strook so mainly merciless,
That could have overthrown a stoney tow'r;
And, were not heav'nly grace that did him bless,
He had been pouldred 7 all, as thin as flour:
But he was wary of that deadly stowre,8
And lightly leapt from underneath the blow:
Yet so exceeding was the villain's pow'r,
That with the wind it did him overthrow,
3 Also. 4 * Prepare.
5 Enfeebled.
7 Beaten to
powder.
8 Peril.
And all his senses stoond, that still he lay full low. Stunned.
As when that devilish iron engine, wrought
In deepest hell, and fram'd by Furies' skill,
With windy nitre and quick sulphur fraught,
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