Through shield and body eke he should him bear:
Yet, so great was the puissance of his push,
That from his saddle quite he did him bear :
He tumbling rudely down to ground did rush,
And from his gored wound a well of blood did gush.
Dismounting lightly from his lofty steed,
He to him leapt, in mind to reave* his life,
And proudly said: "Lo, there the worthy meed
Of him that slew Sansfoy with bloody knife;
Henceforth his ghost freed from repining strife,
In peace may passen over Lethe lake;
When mourning altars, purg'd with enemies life,
The black infernal furies do aslake :
Life from Sansfoy thou took'st, Sansloy shall from thee take."
Therewith in haste his helmet gan unlace,
Till Una cried, "O hold that heavy hand,
Dear sir, what ever that thou be in place:
Enough is, that thy foe doth vanquish'd stand
Now at thy mercy; mercy not withstand;
For he is one the truest knight alive,
Though conquered now he lie on lowly land;
And whilst him fortune favor'd, fair did thrive
In bloody field; therefore of life him not deprive."
Her piteous words might not abate his rage;
But, rudely rending up his helmet, would
Have slain him straight; but when he sees his age,
And hoary head of Archimago old,
His hasty hand he doth amazed hold,
And, half ashamed, wonder'd at the sight:
For that old man well knew he, though untold,
In charms and magick to have wondrous might;
Nor ever wont in field, nor in round lists to fight:
And said, "Why, Archimago, luckless sire,
What do I see? what hard mishap is this,
That hath thee hither brought to taste mine ire?
Or thine the fault or mine the error is,
Instead of foe to wound my friend amiss ?”
He answered nought, but in a trance still lay,
And on those guileful dazed eyes of his
The cloud of death did sit; which done away,
He left him lying so, nor would no longer stay:
But to the virgin comes; who all this while
Amazed stands, herself so mock'd to see
By him, who has the guerdon of his guile,
For so misfeigning her true knight to be:
Yet is she now in more perplexity,
Left in the hand of that same Paynim bold
From whom her bootheth not at all to fly :
Who, by her cleanly garment catching hold,
Her from her palfrey pluck'd her visage to behold.
But her fiery servant, full of kingly awe
And high disdain, whenas his sovereign dame
So rudely handled by her foe he saw,
With gaping jaws full greedy at him came,
And, ramping on his shield, did ween the same
Have reft away with his sharp rending claws:
But he was stout, and lust did now inflame
His courage more, that from his griping paws
He hath his shield redeemd; and forth his sword he draws.
O then, too weak and feeble was the force
Of savage beast, his puissance to withstand!
For he was strong, and of so mighty corse,
As ever wielded spear in warlike hand;
And feats of arms did wisely understand.
Eftsoones he pierced through his chafed chest
With thrilling point of deadly iron brand,
And launch'd his lordly heart: with death opprest
He roar'd aloud, whiles life forsook his stubborn breast.
Who now is left to keep the fórlorn maid
From raging spoil of lawless victors will ?
Her faithful guard remov'd; her hope dismay'd;
Herself a yielded prey to save or spill!
He now, lord of the field, his pride to fill,
With foul reproaches and disdainful spite
Her vilely entertains; and, will or nill,
Bears her away upon his courser light:
Her prayers nought prevail: his rage is more of might.
And all the way, with great lamenting pain,
And piteous plaints, she filleth his dull ears,
That stony heart could riven have in twain;
And all the way she wets with flowing tears;
But he, enraged with rancor, nothing hears.
Her servile beast yet would not leave her so,
But follows her far off, nor ought he fears
To be partaker of her wandring woe,
More mild in beastly kind, than that her beastly foe.
To sinful house of Pride Duess
a guides the faithful knight;
Where, brother's death to wreak, Sansjoy
Doth challenge him to fight.
YOUNG knight whatever, that dost arms profess,
And through long labors huntest after fame,
Beware of fraud, beware of fickleness,
In choice, and change, of thy dear-loved dame;
Lest thou of her believe too lightly blame,
And rash misweening do thy heart remove :
For unto knight there is no greater shame,
Then lightness and inconstancy in love;
That doth his Red Cross Knight's ensample plainly prove.
Who, after that he had left fair Una lorn,
Through light misdeeming of her loyalty;
And false Duessa in her stead had borne,
Called Fidess', and so suppos'd to be;
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