When gentle Una saw the second fall
Of her dear knight, who, weary of long fight
And faint through loss of blood, mov'd not at all,
But lay, as in a dream of deep delight,
Besmear'd with precious balm, whose virtuous might
Did heal his wounds, and scorching heat allay;
Again she stricken was with sore affright,
And for his safety gan devoutly pray,
And watch the noyous* night, and wait for joyous day.
The joyous day 'gan early to appear;
And fair Aurora from the dewy bed
Of aged Tithon gan herself to rear
With rosy cheeks, for shame as blushing red.
Her golden locks, for haste were loosely shed
About her ears, when Una did her mark
Climb to her chariot, all with flowers spread,
From heaven high to chase the cheerless dark;
With merry note her loud salutes the mountain lark.
Then freshly up arose the doughty knight,
All healed of his hurts and woundës wide,
And did himself to battle ready dight;
Whose early foe awaiting him beside
To have devour'd, so soon as day he spied,
When now he saw himself so freshly rear,
As if late fight had nought him damnified,
He wox dismay'd, and 'gan his fate to fear;
Nathless with wonted rage he him advanced near;
Noyous, hurtful.
And in his first encounter, gaping wide,
He thought at once him to have swallow'd quite,
And rush'd upon him with outrageous pride;
Who him rencounting fierce as hawk in flight,
Perforce rebutted back: the weapon bright,
Taking advantage of his open jaw,
Ran through his mouth with so impórtune might,
That deep impierc'd his darksome hollow maw,
And, back retir'd, his life blood forth withal did draw.
So down he fell, and forth his life did breathe,
That vanish'd into smoke and cloudës swift;
So down he fell, that th' earth him underneath
Did groan, as feeble so great load to lift;
So down he fell, as an huge rocky clift,
Whose false foundation waves have wash'd away,
With dreadful poise is from the mainland rift,
And, rolling down, great Neptune doth dismay :
So down he fell, and like an heaped mountain lay.
The knight himself ev'n trembled at his fall
So huge and horrible a mass it seem'd ;
And his dear lady, that beheld it all,
Durst not approach for dread which she misdeem'd;
But yet at last, whenas the direful fiend
She saw not stir, off-shaking vain affright
She nigher drew and saw that joyous end:
Then God she prais'd, and thank'd her faithful knight, That had achiev'd so great a conquest by his might.
Fair Una to the Redcross knight
Betrothed is with joy:
Though false Duessa, it to bar,
Her false slights doth employ.
BEHOLD I see the haven nigh at hand,
To which I mean my weary course to bend ;
Veer the main sheet, and bear up with the land,
The which afore is fairly to be ken'd,
And seemeth safe from storms that may offend:
There this fair virgin weary of her way
Must landed be, now at her journey's end;
There eke
my feeble bark a while may stay,
Till merry wind and weather call her thence away.
Scarcely had Phoebus in the glooming* east
Yet harnessed his fiery-footed team,
Nor rear'd above the earth his flaming crest;
When the last deadly smoke aloft did steam,
That sign of last outbreathed life did seem
Unto the watchman on the castle-wall,
Who thereby dead that baleful beast did deem,
And to his lord and lady loud gan call,
To tell how he had seen the dragon's fatal fall.
*This is apparently the Scotch word for twilight-gloaming
Uprose with hasty joy, and feeble speed,
That aged sire, the lord of all that land,
And looked forth, to weet if true indeed
Those tidings were, as he did understand:
Which whenas true by trial he outfound,
He bade to open wide his brazen gate,
Which long time had been shut, and out of hond*
Proclaimed joy and peace through all his state;
For dead was now their foe, which them forrayed late.
Then gan triumphant trumpets sound on high,
That sent to heaven the echoed report
Of their new joy, and happy victory
Gainst him, that had them long opprest with tort,t
And fast imprisoned in sieged fort.
Then all the people, as in solemn feast,
To him assembled with one full consórt,
Rejoicing at the fall of that great beast,
From whose eternal bondage now they were releast.
Forth came that ancient lord, and aged queen,
Array'd in antique robes down to the ground,
And sad habiliments right well beseen:
A noble crew about them waited round
Of sage and sober peers, all gravely gown'd;
Whom far before did march a goodly band
Of tall young men, all able arms to sound,
But now they laurel branches bore in hand;
Glad sign of victory and peace in all their land.
* Hond, "out of hand," is, in our day at least, a Hibernicism.
Tort (Fr.), wrong.
Unto that doughty conqueror they came,
And, him before themselves prostrating low,
Their lord and patron loud did him proclaim,
And at his feet their laurel boughs did throw.
Soon after them, all dancing on a row,
The comely virgins came, with garlands dight,*
As fresh as flowers in meadow green do grow,
When morning dew upon their leaves doth light;
And in their hands sweet timbrels all upheld on hight.
And, them before, the fry of children young
Their wanton sports and childish mirth did play,
And to the maidens sounding timbrels sung
In well attuned notes a joyous lay,
And made delightful music all the way,
Until they came, where that fair Virgin stood:
As fair Diana in fresh summer's day
Beholds her nymphs enrang'd in shady wood,
Some wrestle, some do run, some bathe in christal flood:
So she beheld those maidens' merriment
With cheerful view; who, when to her they came,
Themselves to ground with gracious humbless* bent,
And her ador'd by honorable name,
Lifting to heaven her everlasting fame :
Then on her head they set a garland green,
And crowned her twixt earnest and twixt game
Who, in her self-resemblance well beseen,
Did seem, such as she was, a goodly maiden queen.
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