XLVII.

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
Her chaste hart had subdewd to learne dame
Pleasures toy,

XLVIII.

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.

XLIX.

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,
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.

L.

All cleane dismayd to see so úncouth sight,

And halfe enraged at her shamelesse guise, He thought have slaine her in his fierce despight; But, hastie heat tempring with sufferance wise, He stayde his hand; and gan himselfe advise To prove his sense, and tempt her faigned truth. Wringing her hands, in wemens pitteous wise, Tho can she weepe, to stirre up gentle ruth Both for her noble blood, and for her tender youth.

LI.

And sayd, "Ah Sir, my liege lord, and my love,
Shall I accuse the hidden cruell fate,
And mightie causes wrought in heaven above,
Or the blind god, that doth me thus amate,
For hoped love to winne me certaine hate?
Yet thus perforce he bids me do, or die.
Die is my dew; yet rew my wretched state,
You, whom my hard avenging destinie
Hath made iudge of my life or death indifferently:

LII.

"Your owne deare sake forst me at first to leave My fathers kingdom"-There she stopt with teares;

Her swollen hart her speech seemd to bereave; And then againe begun ; " My weaker yeares, Captiv'd to fortune and frayle worldly feares, Fly to your fayth for succour and sure ayde: Let me not die in languor and long teares." Why, dame," quoth he, "what hath ye thus dismayd! [affrayd?" What frayes ye, that were wont to comfort me

LIII.

"Love of yourselfe," she saide," and deare constraint,

Lets me not sleepe, but waste the wearie night
In secret anguish and unpittied plaint,
Whiles you in carelesse sleepe are drowned
quight."

Her doutbfull words made that redoubted Knight
Suspect her truth; yet since no' untruth he knew,
Her fawning love with foule disdainefull spight
He would not shend; but said, "Deare dame,
I rew,

That for my sake unknowne such griefe unto you grew:

LIV.

"Assure your selfe, it fell not all to ground;
For all so deare, as life is to my hart,

I deeme your love, and hold me to you bound:
Ne let vaine fears procure your needlesse smart,
Where cause is none; but to your rest depart."
Not all content, yet seemd she to appease
Her mournefull plaintes, beguiled of her art,
And fed with words, that could not chose but
please:

So, slyding softly forth, she turnd as to her ease.

LV.

Long after lay he musing at her mood,

Much griev'd to thinke that gentle Dame so light,
For whose defence he was to shed his blood.
At last dull wearines of former fight
Having yrockt asleepe his irkesome spright,
That troublous Dreame gan freshly tosse his
braine

With bowres, and beds, and ladies deare delight:
But, when he saw his labour all was vaine,
With that misformed Spright he backe returnd
againe.

CANTO II.

The guilefull great Enchaunter parts The Redcrosse Knight from Truth: Into whose stead faire Falshood steps, And workes him woefull ruth.

I.

By this the northerne wagoner had set
His sevenfold teme behind the stedfast starre
That was in ocean waves yet never wet,
But firme is fixt, and sendeth light from farre
To all that in the wide deepe wandring arre;
And chearefull chaunticlere with his note shrill
Had warned once, that Phoebus fiery carre
In hast was climbing up the easterne hill,
Full envious that night so long his roome did fill :

II.

When those accursed messengers of hell,

That feigning Dreame, and that faire-forged Spright,

Came to their wicked Maister, and gan tell Their bootelesse paines, and ill-succeeding night:

1. 1. the northerne wagoner &c.] The northerne wagoner is Boöttes, one of the constellations; his sevenfold teme are the seven stars in the tail and hinder part of the Greater Bear, and vulgarly called Charles's Wain; and the stedfast starre is the Pole-star. CHURCH,

Shee soone left off her mirth and wanton play, And bad her Knight addresse him to the fray; His foe was nigh at hand. He, prickte with pride,

And hope to winne his Ladies hearte that day, Forth spurred fast; adowne his coursers side The red bloud trickling staind the way, as he did ride.

XV.

The Knight of the Redcrosse, when him he spide
Spurring so hote with rage dispiteous,
Gan fairely couch his speare, and towards ride:
Soone meete they both, both fell and furious,
That, daunted with their forces hideous,
Their steeds doe stagger, and amazed stand;
And eke themselves, too rudely rigorous,
Astonied with the stroke of their owne hand,
Doe backe rebutte, and each to other yealdeth land.

XVI.

As when two rams, stird with ambitious pride,
Fight for the rule of the rich-fleeced flocke,
Their horned fronts so fierce on either side
Doe meete, that, with the terror of the shocke
Astonied, both stand sencelesse as a blocke,
Forgetfull of the hanging victory:

So stood these twaine, unmoved as a rocke,
Both staring fierce, and holding idely
The broken reliques of their former cruelty.

XVII.

The Sarazin, sore daunted with the buffe,
Snatcheth his sword, and fiercely to him flies;
Who well it wards, and quyteth cuff with cuff:
Each others equall puissance envíes,
And through their iron sides with cruell spies
Does seeke to perce; repining courage yields
No foote to foe: the flashing fiër flies,
As from a forge, out of their burning shields;
And streams of purple bloud new die the verdant
fields.

XVIII.

"Curse on that Crosse," quoth then the Sarazin, "That keeps thy body from the bitter fitt; Dead long ygoe, I wote, thou haddest bin, Had not that charme from thee forwarned itt: But yet I warne thee now assured sitt,

And hide thy head." Therewith upon his crest With rigor so outrageous he smitt, That a large share it hewd out of the rest, And glauncing downe his shield from blame him fairly blest.

XIX.

Who, thereat wondrous wroth, the sleeping spark Of native vertue gan eftsoones revive; And, at his haughty helmet making mark, So hugely stroke, that it the steele did rive, And cleft his head: He, tumbling downe alive, XVII. 5. And through their iron sides with cruell spies Does seeke to perce;] The meaning is, each envies the other's equal valour, and each does seek with cruell eyes, (sortitus fortunam oculis,) to pierce through the other's sides, which are armed with iron, UPTON. XVIII. 8. a large share it hewd] The substantive share is here used in the sense of the Saxon verb share, to cut or divide. TODD.

XVIII. 9. —from blame him fairly blest.] That is. acquitted him of having given but an indifferent blow.

CHURCH.

"The divelish hag, by chaunges of my cheare, Perceiv'd my thought; and, drownd in sleepie night,

XL. 4. -that day is everic Prime,] Morning: constantly so used by Spenser. The sense here is, "Till one morning, &c." CHURCH.

XL. 7. Bathing herselfe in origane and thyme :] "Organis healeth scabs, itchings, and scuruinesse, being used in bathes." Gerarde's Herball. Thyme is deemed of similar virtue with organie, in Langham's Garden of Health. ToDd.

With wicked herbes and oyntments did besmeare My body, all through charmes and magicke might, That all my senses were bereaved quight: Then brought she me into this desert waste, And by my wretched lovers side me pight; Where now enclosd in wooden wals full faste, Banisht from living wights, our wearie daies we waste."

XLIII.

"But how long time," said then the Elfin Knight, "Are you in this misformed hous to dwell?" "We may not chaunge," quoth he, "this evil! plight,

Till we be bathed in a living Well:

That is the terme prescribed by the spell." "O how," sayd he, "mote I that Well out find, That may restore you to your wonted well?" "Time and suffised fates to former kynd Shall us restore; none else from hence may us unbynd."

XLIV.

The false Duessa, now Fidessa hight,

Heard how in vaine Fradubio did lament,
And knew well all was true. But the good
Knight,

Full of sad feare and ghastly dreriment,
When all this speech the living tree had spent,
The bleeding bough did thrust into the ground,
That from the blood he might be innocent,
And with fresh clay did close the wooden wound:
Then turning to his Lady, dead with feare her
fownd.

XLV.

Her seeming dead he fownd with feigned feare,
As all unweeting of that well she knew ;
And paynd himselfe with busie care to reare
Her out of carelesse swowne. Her eyelids blew,
And dimmed sight with pale and deadly hew,
At last she up gan lift; with trembling cheare
Her up he tooke, (too simple and too trew,)
And oft her kist. At length, all passed feare,
He set her on her steede, and forward forth did
beare.

CANTO III.

Forsaken Truth long seekes her Love, And makes the lyon mylde; Marres blind Devotions mart, and fals In hand of leachour vylde.

I.

NOUGHT is there under heav'ns wide hollownesse, That moves more deare compassion of mind, Then beautie brought t'unworthie wretchednesse Through envies snares, or fortunes freakes unkind.

I, whether lately through her brightnes blynd, Or through alleageance, and fast fealty, Which I do owe unto all womankynd, Feele my hart perst with so great agony, When such I see, that all for pitty I could dy.

XLII. 7.

to your wonted well?] To your former well being, that is, to your human shape. CHURCH.

XLIII, 8. to former kynd] Our former · human nature. Spenser perpetually uses kind for nature, and kindly for natural; as also unkindly for unnatural. CHURCH.