"Bu that bold knight, whom ye pursuing saw, 52
That Geauntesse, is not such as she seemd,
But a faire virgin that in martiall law
And deedes of armes above all Dames is deemd,
And above many knightes is eke esteemd
For her great worth: She Palladine is hight.
She you from death, you me from dread, redeemd;
Ne any may that Monster match in fight,
But she, or such as she, that is so chaste a wight."
"Her well beseemes that Quest," (quoth Satyrane) 53
"But read, thou Squyre of Dames, what vow is this,
Which thou upon thy selfe hast lately ta'ne?"
"That shall I you recount," (quoth he) "ywis,
So be ye pleasd to pardon all amis.
That gentle Lady whom I love and serve,
After long suit and wearie servicis,
Did aske me, how I could her love deserve, And how she might be sure that I would never swerve? "I, glad by any meanes her grace to gaine,
Badd her commaund my life to save or spill. Eftsoones she badd me, with incessaunt paine To wander through the world abroad at will, And every where, where with my power or skill I might doe service unto gentle Dames, That I the same should faithfully fulfill; And at the twelve monethes end should bring their And pledges, as the spoiles of my victorious games.
"So well I to faire Ladies service did,
And found such favour in their loving hartes,
That ere the yeare his course had compassid,
Thre hundred pledges for my good desartes,
And thrice thre hundred thanks for my good partes.
I with me brought, and did to her present:
Which when she saw, more bent to eke my smartes
Then to reward my trusty true intent,
She gan for me devise a grievous punishment.
"To weet, that I my traveill should resume,
And with like labour walke the world arownd,
Ne ever to her presence should presume,
Till I so many other Dames had fownd,
The which, for all the suit I could propownd,
Would me refuse their pledges to afford,
But did abide for ever chaste and sownd."
"Ah! gentle Squyre," (quoth he) "tell at one word, How many fownd'st thou such to put in thy record ?"
"In deed, Sir knight," (said he)" one word may tell 57 All that I ever fownd so wisely stayd,
For onely three they were disposd so well;
And yet three yeares I now abrode have strayd,
To fynd them out." "Mote I," (then laughing sayd
The knight)" inquire of thee what were those three,
The which thy proffred curtesie denayd?
Or ill they seemed sure avizd to bee,
Or brutishly brought up, that nev'r did fashions see."
"The first which then refused me," (said hee) "Certes was but a common Courtisane; Yet flat refusd to have adoe with mee, Because I could not give her many a Jane." (Thereat full hartely laughed Satyrane.) "The second was an holy Nunne to chose, Which would not let me be her Chappellane, Because she knew, she sayd, I would disclose Her counsell, if she should her trust in me repose.
"The third a Damzell was of low degree,
Whom I in countrey cottage fownd by chaunce:
Full litle weened I that chastitee
Had lodging in so meane a maintenaunce;
Yet was she fayre, and in her countenaunce
Dwelt simple truth in seemely fashion.
Long thus I woo'd her with due observaunce,
In hope unto my pleasure to have won;
But was as far at last, as when I first begon.
“Safe her, I never any woman found
That chastity did for it selfe embrace,
But were for other causes firme and sound;
Either for want of handsome time and place,
Or else for feare of shame and fowle disgrace.
Thus am I hopelesse ever to attaine
My Ladies love in such a desperate case,
But all my dayes am like to waste in vaine, Seeking to match the chaste with th' unchaste Ladies traine."
"Perdy," (sayd Satyrane) "thou Squyre of Dames, 61 Great labour fondly hast thou hent in hand,
To get small thankes, and therewith many blames,
That may emongst Alcides labours stand."
Thence backe returning to the former land,
Where late he left the Beast he overcame,
He found him not; for he had broke his band,
And was returnd againe unto his Dame,
To tell what tydings of fayre Florimell became.
CANTO VIII.
The Witch creates a snowy Lady
like to Florimell;
Who wrong'd by Carle, by Proteus sav'd,
is sought by Paridell.
O oft as I this history record,
My heart doth melt with meere compassion To thinke how causelesse, of her owne This gentle Damzell, whom I write upon, [accord, Should plonged be in such affliction
Without all hope of comfort or reliefe;
That sure, I weene, the hardest hart of stone
Would hardly finde to aggravate her griefe;
For misery craves rather mercy then repriefe.
But that accursed Hag, her hostesse late,
Had so enranckled her malitious hart,
That she desyrd th' abridgement of her fate,
Or long enlargement of her painefull smart.
Now when the Beast, which by her wicked art
Late foorth she sent, she backe retourning spyde
Tyde with her golden girdle; it a part
Of her rich spoyles whom he had earst destroyd She weend, and wondrous gladnes to her hart applyde.
And, with it ronning hast❜ly to her sonne,
Thought with that sight him much to have reliv'd; Who, thereby deeming sure the thing as donne, His former griefe with furie fresh reviv'd Much more then earst, and would have algates riv'd The hart out of his brest: for sith her dedd He surely dempt, himselfe he thought depriv'd Quite of all hope wherewith he long had fedd His foolish malady, and long time had misledd.
With thought whereof exceeding mad he grew,
And in his rage his mother would have slaine,
Had she not fled into a secret mew,
Where she was wont her Sprightes to entertaine,
The maisters of her art: there was she faine
To call them all in order to her ayde,
And them conjure, upon eternall paine,
To counsell her, so carefully dismayd,
How she might heale her sonne whose senses were de
By their device, and her owne wicked wit,
She there deviz'd a wondrous worke to frame,
Whose like on earth was never framed yit;
That even Nature selfe envide the same,
And grudg'd to see the counterfet should shame
The thing it selfe: In hand she boldly tooke
To make another like the former Dame,
Another Florimell, in shape and looke
So lively and so like, that many it mistooke.
The substance, whereof she the body made,
Was purest snow in massy mould congeald,
Which she had gathered in a shady glade
Of the Riphoan hils, to her reveald
By errant Sprights, but from all men conceald:
The same she tempred with fine Mercury
And virgin wex that never yet was seald,
And mingled them with perfect vermily;
That like a lively sanguine it seemd to the eye.
In stead of eyes two burning lampes she set
In silver sockets, shyning like the skyes,
And a quicke moving Spirit did arret
To stirre and roll them like to womens eyes:
In stead of yellow lockes she did devyse
With golden wyre to weave her curled head;
Yet golden wyre was not so yellow thryse
As Florimells fayre heare: and, in the stead
Of life, she put a Spright to rule the carcas dead;
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