Her scattred brood, soone as their parent deare
They saw so rudely falling to the ground,
Groning full deadly all with troublous feare
Gathred themselves about her body round,
Weening their wonted entrance to have found
At her wide mouth; but, being there withstood,
They flocked all about her bleeding wound,
And sucked up their dying mothers bloud;

Making her death their life, and eke her hurt their good.

That détestable sight him much amazde,
To see th' unkindly impes, of heaven accurst,
Devoure their dam; on whom while so he gazd,
Having all satisfide their bloudy thurst,

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Their bellies swolne he saw with fulnesse burst,

And bowels gushing forth: well worthy end

Of such, as drunke her life, the which them nurst!
Now needeth him no lenger labour spend,

[contend.

His foes have slaine themselves, with whom he should

His lady seeing all, that chaunst, from farre,

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Approcht in hast to greet his victorie;

And saide, "Faire knight, borne under happie starre,

Who see your vanquisht foes before you lye;

Well worthie be you of that armory,

Wherein ye have great glory wonne this day,

And proov'd your strength on a strong enimie;
Your first adventure: many such I pray,

And henceforth ever wish that like succeed it may !"

Then mounted he upon his steede againe,
And with the lady backward sought to wend:
That path he kept, which beaten was most plaine,
Ne ever would to any by-way bend;

But still did follow one unto the end,

The which at last out of the wood them brought.
So forward on his way (with God to frend)
He passed forth, and new adventure sought:
Long way he traveiled, before he heard of ought.

At length they chaunst to meet upon the way
An aged sire, in long blacke weedes yclad,
His feete all bare, his beard all hoarie gray,
And by his belt his booke he hanging had;
Sober he seemde, and very sagely sad;
And to the ground his eyes were lowly bent,
Simple in shew, and voide of malice bad;
And all the way he prayed, as he went,

And often knockt his brest, as one that did repent.

He faire the knight saluted, louting low,
Who faire him quited, as that courteous was;
And after asked him, if he did know

Of straunge adventures, which abroad did pas.

"Ah! my dear sonne," quoth he, "how should, alas!
Silly old man, that lives in hidden cell,

Bidding his beades all day for his trespás,
Tydings of warre and worldly trouble tell?

With holy father sits not with such thinges to mell.

"But if of daunger, which hereby doth dwell,
And homebredd evil ye desire to heare,
Of a straunge man I can you tidings tell,
That wasteth all this countrie farre and neare."
"Of such," saide he, "I chiefly doe inquere ;
And shall thee well rewarde to shew the place,
In which that wicked wight his dayes doth weare:
For to all knighthood it is foule disgrace,
That such a cursed creature lives so long a space."

"Far hence," quoth he, "in wastfull wildernesse
His dwelling is, by which no living wight
May ever passe, but thorough great distresse."
"Now," saide the ladie, "draweth toward night;
And well I wote, that of your later fight
Ye all forwearied be; for what so strong,
But, wanting rest, will also want of might?
The sunne, that measures heaven all day long,

At night doth baite his steedes the ocean waves emong.

"Then with the sunne take, sir, your timely rest,
And with new day new worke at once begin:
Untroubled night, they say, gives counsell best."
'Right well, Sir Knight, ye have advised bin,"
the way to win
Quoth then that aged man;
Is wisely to advise. Now day is spent:
Therefore with me ye may take up your in

For this same night." The knight was well content:
So with that godly father to his home they went.

A little lowly hermitage it was,

Downe in a dale, hard by a forest's side,
Far from resort of people, that did pas
In traveill to and froe: a little wyde
There was an holy chappell edifyde,
Wherein the hermite dewly wont to say
His holy things each morne and eventyde:
Thereby a christall streame did gently play,
Which from a sacred fountaine welled forth alway.

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Arrived there, the litle house they fill,
Ne looke for entertainement, where none was;
Rest is their feast, and all thinges at their will:
The noblest mind the best contentment has.
With faire discourse the evening so they pas;
For that olde man of pleasing wordes had store,
And well could file his tongue, as smooth as glas:
He told of saintes and popes, and evermore
He strowd an Ave-Mary after and before.

The drouping night thus creepeth on them fast;
And the sad humor loading their eye-liddes,
As messenger of Morpheus, on them cast

Sweet slombring deaw, the which to sleep them biddes.
Unto their lodgings then his guestes he riddes:
Where when all drownd in deadly sleepe he findes,
He to his studie goes; and there amiddes

His magick bookes, and artes of sundrie kindes,

He seeks out mighty charmes to trouble sleepy minds.

Then choosing out few words most horrible,
(Let none them read!) thereof did verses frame:
With which, and other spelles like terrible,
He bad awake blacke Plutoes griesly dame;
And cursed Heven; and spake reprochful shame
Of highest God, the Lord of life and light.
A bold bad man! that dar'd to call by name
Great Gorgon, prince of darknes and dead night;
At which Cocytus quakes, and Styx is put to flight.

And forth he cald out of deepe darknes dredd
Legions of sprights, the which, like litle flyes,
Fluttring about his ever-damned hedd,
Awaite whereto their service he applyes,
To aide his friendes, or fray his enimies:
Of those he chose out two, the falsest twoo,
And fittest for to forge true-seeming lyes;
The one of them he gave a message too,

The other by himselfe staide other worke to doo.

He, making speedy way through spersed ayre,
And through the world of waters wide and deep?,
To Morpheus house doth hastily repaire,
Amid the bowels of the earth full steepe,
And low, where dawning day doth never peepe,
His dwelling is; there Tethys his wet bed
Doth ever wash, and Cynthia still doth steepe
In silver deaw his ever-drouping hed,

Whiles sad Night over him her mantle black doth spred;

Whose double gates he findeth locked fast;
The one faire fram'd of burnisht yvory,
The other all with silver overcast ;

And wakeful dogges before them farre doe lye,
Watching to banish Care their enimy,
Who oft is wont to trouble gentle Sleepe.
By them the sprite doth passe in quietly,

And unto Morpheus comes, whom drowned deepe
In drowsie fit he findes; of nothing he takes keepe.

And, more, to lulle him in his slumber soft,

A trickling streame from high rock tumbling downe,
And ever-drizling raine upon the loft,
Mixt with a murmuring winde, much like the sowne
Of swarming bees, did cast him in a swowne.
No other noyse, nor peoples troublous cryes,
As still are wont t' annoy the walled towne,
Might there be heard: but carelesse Quiet lyes
Wrapt in eternall silence farre from enimyes.

The messenger approching to him spake ;
But his waste wordes retournd to him in vaine:
So sound he slept, that nought mought him awake.
Then rudely he him thrust, and pusht with paine,
Whereat he gan to stretch: but he againe
Shooke him so hard, that forced him to speake.
As one then in a dreame, whose dryer braine
Is tost with troubled sights and fancies weake,

He mumbled soft, but would not all his silence breake.

The sprite then gan more boldly him to wake,
And threatned unto him the dreaded name
Of Hecaté: whereat he gan to quake,
And, lifting up his lompish head, with blame
Halfe angrie asked him, for what he came,
"Hether," quoth he, "me Archimago sent,
He that the stubborne sprites can wisely tame,
He bids thee to him send for his intent

A fit false Dreame, that can delude the sleepers sent."

The god obayde; and, calling forth straight way
A diverse dreame out of his prison darke,

Delivered it to him, and downe did lay
His heavie head, devoide of careful carke;

Whose sences all were straight benumbd and starke.
He, backe returning by the yvorie dore,
Remounted up as light as chearefull larke;
And on his litle winges the Dreame he bore
In hast unto his lord, where he him left afore.

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Who all this while, with charmes and hidden artes,
Had made a lady of that other spright,

And fram'd of liquid ayre her tender partes,
So lively, and so like in all mens sight,

That weaker sence it could have ravisht quight:
The makers selfe, for all his wondrous witt,
Was nigh beguiled with so goodly sight.
Her all in white he clad, and over it

Cast a black stole, most like to seeme for Una fit.

Now when that ydle Dreame was to him brought,
Unto that elfin knight he bad him fly,

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Where he slept soundly void of evil thought,
And with false shewes abuse his fantasy;

In sort as he him schooled privily.

And that new creature, borne without her due,
Full of the makers guile, with usage sly

He taught to imitate that lady trew,

Whose semblanee she did carrie under feigned how.

Thus, well instructed, to their worke they haste;
And, comming where the knight in slomber lay,
The one upon his hardie head him plaste,
And made him dreame of loves and lustfull play;
That nigh his manly hart did melt away,
Bathed in wanton blis and wicked ioy:

Then seemed him his lady by him lay,

And to him playnd, how that false winged boy

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Her chaste hart had subdewd to learne dame Pleasures toy.

And she her selfe, of beautie soveraigne queene,
Fayre Venus, seemde unto his bed to bring
Her, whom he, waking, evermore did weene
To bee the chastest flowre that aye did spring
On earthly braunch, the daughter of a king,
Now a loose leman to vile service bound:
And eke the Graces seemed all to sing,
Hymen Io Hymen, dauncing all around;

Whylst freshest Flora her with yvie girlond crownd.

In this great passion of unwonted lust,
Or wonted feare of doing ought amis,
He starteth up, as seeming to mistrust
Some secret ill, or hidden foe of his :
Lo, there before his face his ladie is,

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Under blacke stole hyding her bayted hooke;
And as halfe blushing offred him to kis,

With gentle blandishment and lovely looke,

Most like that virgin true, which for her knight him took.