36 And there beside a marble stone was built
An Altare, carv'd with cunning imagery;
On which true Christian bloud was often spilt,
And holy Martyrs often doen to dye,
With cruell malice and strong tyranny:
Whose blessed sprites, from underneath the stone,
To God for vengeance cryde continually,
And with great griefe were often heard to grone;
That hardest heart would bleede to hear their piteous mone.
37 Through every rowme he sought, and every bowr,
But no where could he find that woful thrall:
At last he came unto an yron doore
That fast was lockt, but key found not at all
Emongst that bounch to open it withall;
But in the same a little grate was pight,
Through which he sent his voyce, and lowd did call
With all his powre, to weet if living wight
Were housed therewithin, whom he enlargen might.
38 Therewith an hollow, dreary, murmuring voyce
These pitteous plaints and dolours did resound;
O who is that, which brings me happy choyce
Of death, that here lye dying every stound,
Yet live perforce in balefull darkenesse bound?
For now three moones have changed thrice their hew,
And have been thrice hid underneath the ground,
Since I the heavens chearfull face did vew:
O welcome thou, that doest of death bring tydings trew.
39 Which when that Champion heard, with percing point Of pitty deare his hart was thrilled sore;
And trembling horrour ran through every joynt
For ruth of gentle knight so fowle forlore :
Which shaking off, he rent that yron dore
With furious force and indignation fell;
Where entred in, his foot could find no flore,
But all a deepe descent, as darke as hell,
That breathed ever forth a filthie banefull smell.
40 But neither darkenesse fowle, nor filthy bands,
Nor noyous smell, his purpose could withhold,
(Entire affection hateth nicer hands,)
But that with constant zeale and courage bold,
After long paines and labours manifold,
He found the meanes that prisoner up to reare;
Whose feeble thighes, unhable to uphold
His pined corse, him scarse to light could beare ;
A ruefull spectacle of death and ghastly drere.
41 His sad dull eyes, deepe sunck in hollow pits,
Could not endure th' unwonted sunne to view;
His bare thin cheekes for want of better bits,
And empty sides deceived of their dew,
Could make a stony hart his hap to rew;
His rawbone armes, whose mighty brawned bawrs
Were wont to rive steele plates, and helmets hew,
Were clene consum'd, and all his vitall powres
Decayd; and all his flesh shronk up like withered flowres.
42 Whom when his Lady saw, to him she ran
With hasty joy: to see him made her glad,
And sad to view his visage pale and wan;
Who earst in flowres of freshest youth was clad.
Tho, when her well of teares she wasted had,
She said, Ah dearest Lord, what evill starre
On you hath fround, and poured his influence bad,
That of your selfe ye thus berobbed arre,
And this misseeming hew your manly lookes doth marre ?
43 But welcome now, my Lord, in wele or woe,
Whose presence I have lackt too long a day;
And fie on Fortune mine avowed foe,
Whose wrathful wreakes themselves doe now alay;
And for these wrongs shall treble penaunce pay
Of treble good: good growes of evils priefe.
The chearelese man, whom sorrow did dismay,
Had no delight to treaten of his griefe;
His long endured famine needed more reliefe.
44 Faire Lady, then said that victorious knight,
The things, that grievous were to do, or beare,
Them to renew, I wote, breeds no delight;
Best musicke breeds delight in loathing eare:
But th' only good, that growes of passed feare,
Is to be wise, and ware of like agein.
This dayes ensample hath this lesson deare
Deepe written in my heart with yron pen,
That blisse may not abide in state of mortall men.
45 Henceforth, sir knight, take to you wonted strength, And maister these mishaps with patient might;
Loe where your foe lies stretcht in monstrous length,
And loe that wicked woman in your sight,
The roote of all your care and wretched plight,
Now in your powre, to let her live, or die.
To do her die (quoth Una) were despight,
And shame t'avenge so weake an enimy;
But spoile her of her scarlot robe, and let her fly.
46 So as she bad, that witch they disaraid,
And robd of royall robes, and purple pall,
And ornaments that richly were displaid;
Ne spared they to strip her naked all.
Then when they had despoiled her tire and call,
Such as she was, their eyes might her behold,
That her misshaped parts did them appall;
A loathy, wrinckled hag, ill favoured, old,
Whose secret filth good manners biddeth not be told.
49 Which when the knights beheld, amazd they were,
And wondred at so fowle deformed wight.
Such then (said Una) as she seemeth here,
Such is the face of falsehood; such the sight
Of fowle Duessa, when her borrowed light
Is laid away, and counterfesaunce knowne.
Thus when they had the witch disrobed quight,
And all her filthy feature open showne,
They let her goe at will, and wander wayes unknowne.
50 She flying fast from heavens hated face,
And from the world that her discovered wide,
Fled to the wastfull wildernesse apace,
From living eyes her open shame to hide;
And lurkt in rocks and caves long unespide.
But that faire crew of knights, and Una faire,
Did in that castle afterwards abide,
To rest them selves, and weary powres repaire ;
Where store they found of all that dainty was and rare.
His loves and lignage Arthur tells:
the knights knit friendly bands:
Sir Trevisan flies from Despayre,
whom Redcrosse knight withstands.
I O GOODLY golden chaine, wherewith yfere
The vertues linked are in lovely wize;
And noble mindes of yore allyed were,
In brave poursuit of chevalrous emprize,
That none did others safety despize,
Nor aid envy to him, in need that stands;
But friendly each did others praise devize,
How to advaunce with favourable hands,
As this good Prince redeemd the Redcrosse knight from
2 Who when their powres, empaird through labour long, With dew repast they had recured well,
And that weake captive wight now wexed strong;
Them list no lenger there at leasure dwell,
But forward fare, as their adventures fell:
But, ere they parted, Una faire besought
That straunger knight his name and nation tell;
Least so great good, as he for her had wrought,
Should die unknown, and buried be in thanklesse thought.
3 Faire virgin (said the Prince) yee me require
A thing without the compas of my wit:
For both the lignage, and the certain sire,
From which I sprong, from me are hidden yitt.
For all so soone as life did me admit
Into this world, and shewed heavens light,
From mothers pap I taken was unfit,
And streight deliver'd to a Faery knight,
To be upbrought in gentle thewes and martiall might.
|