The gentle Lady, loose at randon lefte, 36 The greene-wood long did walke, and wander wide Straying alone withouten groome or guide: To milk their gotes, and make them cheese and bregd; And every one as commune good her handeled: That shortly she Malbecco has forgott, And eke Sir Paridell, all were he deare; 37 38 "I take no keepe of her," (sayd Paridell) "She wonneth in the forrest there before." So forth he rode as his adventure fell; The whiles the Boaster from his loftie sell Faynd to alight, something amisse to mend; But the fresh Swayne would not his leasure dwell, But went his way: whom when he passed kend, He up remounted light, and after faind to wend. Perdy, nay," (said Malbecco) "shall ye not; Least salvage beastes her person have despoyld: Then all the world is lost, and we in vaine have toyld. 39 They all agree, and forward them addrest: 40 "Ah! but," (said crafty Trompart) "weete ye well, That yonder in that wastefull wildernesse Huge monsters haunt, and many dangers dwell; Dragons, and Minotaures, and feendes of hell, And many wilde woodmen which robbe and rend All traveilers: therefore advise ye well, Before ye enterprise that way to wend. One may his journey bring too soone to evill end." Malbecco stopt in great astonishment, 41 And with pale eyes fast fixed on the rest, My Lord and I will search the wide forest." "Then is it best," (said he) "that ye doe leave As for us two, least doubt of us ye have, 42 Ne privy bee unto your treasures grave." [brave. It pleased; so he did. Then they march forward Now, when amid the thickest woodes they were, 43 Ne ever looked back for good or ill; And after him eke fearefull Trompart spedd: The old man could not fly, but fell to ground half dedd. 44 Yet afterwardes, close creeping as he might, The silly man that in the thickett lay Saw all this goodly sport, and grieved sore; 45 All day they danced with great lusty hedd, Tho up they gan their mery pypes to trusse, 46 To Hellenore; so busses did abound. Now gan the humid vapour shed the grownd With perly deaw, and th' Earthes gloomy shade Did dim the brightnesse of the welkin rownd, That every bird and beast awarned made [invade. To shrowd themselves, whiles sleepe their sences did Which when Malbecco saw, out of his bush 47 Upon his handes and feete he crept full light, So home he marcht emongst the horned heard, At night, when all they went to sleepe, he vewd 48 Who all the night did minde his joyous play: That not for nought his wife them loved so well, When one so oft a night did ring his matins bell. So closely as he could he to them crept, 49 When wearie of their sport to sleepe they fell, She turnd her, and returned backe againe; At last with irkesom trouble she abrayd; And then perceiving, that it was indeed Her old Malbecco, which did her upbrayd With loosenesse of her love and loathly deed, She was astonisht with exceeding dreed, And would have wakt the Satyre by her syde; But he her prayd, for mercy or for meed, To save his life, ne let him be descryde, But hearken to his lore, and all his counsell hyde. Tho gan he her perswade to leave that lewd And loathsom life, of God and man abhord, And by no meanes would to his will be wonne, But chose emongst the jolly Satyres still to wonne. 50 51 He wooed her till day spring he espyde, 52 But all in vaine; and then turnd to the heard, The heardes out of their foldes were loosed quight, And he emongst the rest crept forth in sory plight. So soone as he the Prison dore did pas, He ran as fast as both his feet could beare, And never looked who behind him was, Ne scarsely who before: like as a Beare, That creeping close amongst the hives to reare An hony-combe, the wakefull dogs espy, And him assayling sore his carkas teare, That hardly he with life away does fly, Ne stayes, till safe him selfe he see from jeopardy. Ne stayd he, till he came unto the place 53 54 Where late his treasure he entombed had; With extreme fury he became quite mad, That who so straungely had him seene bestadd, From Limbo lake him late escaped sure would say. High over hilles and over dales he fledd, 55 As if the wind him on his winges had borne; That, as a Snake, still lurked in his wounded mynd |