In sort as he him schooled privily.

And that new creature, borne without her dew,1
Full of the makers guyle, with usage sly

He taught to imitate that Lady trew,

Whose semblance she did carrie under feigned hew.

47 Thus, well instructed, to their worke they haste;
And, comming where the Knight in slomber lay,
The one upon his hardie head him plaste,
And made him dreame of loves and lustfull play;
That nigh his manly hart did melt away,
Bathed in wanton blis and wicked ioy.

Then seemed him his Lady by him lay,

And to him playnd, how that false winged boy Her chaste hart had subdewd to learne dame Pleas

ures toy;

2

48 And she her selfe, of beautie soveraigne queene,
Fayre Venus, seemde unto his bed to bring
Her, whom he, waking, evermore did weene 2
To bee the chastest flowre that aye did spring
On earthly braunch, the daughter of a king,
Now a loose leman to vile service bound:
And eke the Graces seemed all to sing
Hymen Tö Hymen, dauncing all around;
Whylst freshest Flora her with yvie girlond crownd.

49 In this great passion of unwonted lust,

Or wonted feare of doing ought amis,

1 Borne without her dew, produced without the due and proper qualities of a real woman. H.

2 Weene, suppose.

He starteth up, as seeming to mistrust
Some secret ill, or hidden foe of his :
Lo, there before his face his Ladie is,
Under blacke stole hyding her bayted hooke;
And as halfe blushing offred him to kis,

With gentle blandishment and lovely looke. Most like that Virgin true, which for her knight him took.

1

50 All cleane dismayd to see so uncouth 1 sight And halfe enraged at her shamelesse guise, He thought have slaine her in his fierce despight 2;

But, hastie heat tempring with sufferance wise, He stayde his hand; and gan himselfe advise To prove his sense, and tempt her faigned truth. Wringing her hands, in wemens pitteous wise, Tho3 can she weepe, to stirre up gentle ruth Both for her noble blood, and for her tender youth.

51 And sayd, “Ah Sir, my liege lord, and my love, Shall I accuse the hidden cruell fate,

And mightie causes wrought in heaven above,
Or the blind god, that doth me thus amate,5
For hoped love to winne me certaine hate?
Yet thus perforce he bids me do, or die.
Die is my dew; yet rew my wretched state,
You, whom my hard avenging destinie

Hath made iudge of my life or death indifferently:

1 Uncouth, strange.

2 Despight, anger.

3 Tho, then.

4 Ruth, pity.

5 Amate, confound, overpower.

52 "Your owne deare sake forst me at first to leave
My fathers kingdom"-- There she stopt with teares ;
Her swollen hart her speech seemd to bereave ;
And then againe begonne: "My weaker yeares,
Captiv'd to fortune and frayle worldly feares,
Fly to your fayth for succour and sure ayde :

Let me not die in languor and long teares.”

66

Why, Dame," quoth he, "what hath ye thus dismayd?

What frayes1 ye, that were wont to comfort me affrayd?"

53 "Love of yourselfe," she saide, "and deare constraint,

Lets me not sleepe, but waste the wearie night

In secret anguish and unpittied plaint,

Whiles you in carelesse sleepe are drowned quight." Her doubtfull words made that redoubted knight Suspect her truth; yet since no' untruth he knew, Her fawning love with foule disdainefull spight He would not shend 2; but said, "Deare Dame, I rew, That for my sake unknowne such griefe unto you grew :

54 Assure your selfe, it fell not all to ground;

For all so deare as life is to my hart,

I deeme your love, and hold me to you bound: Ne let vaine feares procure your needlesse smart,

1 Frayes, affrights.

2 Shend, put to shame.

LII. 1. Your owne deare sake, &c.] This is not true, as Una did not know St. George till she came to the court of the Faerie Queene. H.

Where cause is none; but to your rest depart." Not all content, yet seemd she to appease Her mournefull plaintes, beguiled of her art, And fed with words, that could not chose but please: So slyding softly forth, she turnd as to her ease.

55 Long after lay he musing at her mood,

Much griev'd to thinke that gentle dame so light,
For whose defence he was to shed his blood.
At last dull wearines of former fight

Having yrockt asleepe his irkesome spright,
That troublous Dreame gan freshly tosse 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.

CANTO II.

The guilefull great Enchaunter parts
The Redcrosse Knight from Truth:
Into whose stead faire Falshood steps,
And workes him woefull ruth.1

1 By this the northerne wagoner 2 had set
His sevenfold teme behind the stedfast starre
That was in ocean waves yet never wet,
But firme is fixt, and sendeth light from farre
To al that in the wide deepe wandring arre;
And chearefull Chaunticlere with his note shrill
Had warned once, that Phoebus fiery carre
In hast was climbing up the easterne hill,
Full envious that night his roome did fill:

2 When those accursed messengers of hell, That feigning Dreame, and that faire-forged Spright,

Came to their wicked maister, and gan tell

Their bootelesse paines, and ill-succeeding night:

1 Ruth, pity, sorrow.

2 I. e. Boötes.