XV.

"

When I awoke, and found her place devoid,
And nought but preffed grafs where she had lyen,
I forrow'd all fo much, as earft I joy'd,
And washed all her place with watry eyen.
From that day forth, I lov'd that face divine;
From that day forth I caft in careful mind,
To feek her out with labour and long tine,
And never vow to reft, till her I find,

Nine months I feek in vain, yet ni'll that vow unbind
XVI.

Thus as he spake, his vifage wexed pale,

And change of hew great paffion did bewray;
Yet ftill he ftrove to cloak his inward bale,
And hide the fmoak that did his fire display,
Till gentle Una thus to him 'gan fay;

O happy Queen of Faries, that haft found
Mongst many, one that with his prowess may
Defend thine honour, and thy foes confound;
True loves are often fown, but feldom grow on ground.
XVII.

Thine, O then faid the gentle Redcrofs Knight,
Next to that Ladies love fhall be the place,
O fairest virgin, full of heavenly light,
Whose wondrous faith exceeding earthly race,
Was firmest fixt in mine extreameft cafe.
And you my Lord, the patron of my life,
Of that great Queen may well gain worthy grace:
For, only worthy you, through prowefs prief
If living man mote worthy be, to be her lief.
XVIII.

So diverfly discourfing of their loves,

The golden fun his gliftring head 'gan fhew,
And fad remembrance now the Prince amoves,
With fresh defire his voyage to pursue :
Als Una earn'd her travel to renew.

Then those two Knights, fast friendship for to bind,
And love establish each to other true,

Gave goodly gifts, the figns of grateful mind,

And eke the pledges firm, right hands together joyn'd.

XIX.

Prince Arthur gave a box of diamond fure,
Embowd with gold and gorgeous ornament,..
Wherein were clos'd few drops of liquor pure,
Of wondrous worth, and vertue excellent,
That any wound could heal incontinent:
Which to requite, the Redcross Knight him gave
A book wherein his Saviour's teftament

-Was writ with golden letters rich and brave;
A work of wondrous grace, and able fouls to fave.
XX.

Thus been they parted, Arthur on his way
To feek his love, and th'other for to fight
With Unas foe, that all her realm did prey.
But the now weighing the decayed plight,
And shrunken finews of her chofen Knight,
Would not awhile her forward courfe purfue,
Ne bring him forth in face of dreadful fight,
Till he recover'd had his former hew:

For him to be yet weak and weary well the knew.
XXI.

So as they travell'd, lo they 'gan efpie

An armed Knight towards them gallop fast, That feemed from fome feared foe to Alie, Or other griefly thing that him aghast. Still as he fled, his eye was backward caft, As if his fear ftill follow'd him behind; Als flew his fteed, as he his bands had braft, And with his winged heels did tread the wind, As he had been a fole of Pegasus his kind.

XXII.

Nigh as he drew, they might perceive his head
To be unarm'd, and curl'd uncombed hairs
Upftaring stiff, difmay'd with uncouth dread;
Nor drop of blood in all his face appears,
Nor life in limb: and to increafe his fears,
In foul reproach of Knighthoods fair degree,
About his neck a hempen rope he wears,
That with his gliftring arms does ill agree;
But he of rope or arms has now no memory..

XXIII.

The Redcrofs Knight toward him croffed faft,
To weet what mifter wight was fo difmay'd:
There him he finds all fenfelefs and aghast,
That of himself he feem'd to be afraid;
Whom hardly he from flying forward staid,
Till he these words to him deliver might;
Sir Knight, aread who hath
ye thus arraid,

And eke from whom make ye this hafty flight:
For never Knight I faw in fuch miffeeming plight.
XXIV.

He anfwer'd nought at all; but adding new
Fear to his first amazement, staring wide
With ftony eyes, and heartlefs hollow hew,
Aftonisht ftood, as one that had espy'd,
Infernal furies, with their chains unty'd.
Him yet again, and yet again befpake.

The gentle Knight; who nought to him reply'd,
But trembling every joynt did inly quake,

[fhake. And foltring tongue at laft these words feem'd forth to

XXV.

For God's dear love, Sir Knight, do me not stay;

For lo, he comes, he comes faft after me.

Eft looking back, would fain have run away;
But he him forct to ftay, and tellen free
The fecret cause of his perplexity:

Yet nathemore by his bold hearty speech,

Could his blood-frozen heart emboldned be:

But through his boldness rather fear did reach: Yet forct, at last he made through filence fuddain breach. XXVI.

And am I now in fafety fure (quoth he)

From him that would have forced me to dye?
And is the point of death now turn'd from me,
That I may tell this hapless hiftory?
Fear nought (quoth he) no danger now is nigh,
Then fhall I you recount a rueful cafe
(Said he) the which with this unlucky eye
I late beheld, and had not greater grace
Me reft from it, had been partaker of the place..

XXVII,

I lately chaunct (would I had never chaunct)
With a fair Knight to keepen compance,
Sir Terwin hight, that well himself advaunct
In all affairs, and was both bold and free,
But not fo happy as mote happy be:
He lov'd, as was his lot, a Lady gent,
That him again lov'd in the leaft degree:
For the was proud, and of too high intent,
And joy'd to fee her Lover languifh and lament.
XXVIII.

From whom returning fad and comfortless,
As on the way together we did fare,

We met that villain (God from him me bless)
That curfed wight, from whom I fcapt whylear,
A man of hell, that calls himself Despair:
Who first us greets, and after fair areeds
Of tydings strange, and of adventures rare:
So creeping close, as fnake in hidden weeds,
Inquireth of our ftates, and of our Knightly deeds.
XXIX.

Which when he knew, and felt our feeble hearts
Embost with bale, and bitter byting grief,
Which love had launced with his deadly darts,
With wounding words and terms of foul reprief,
He pluckt from us all hope of due relief,
That earft us held in love of lingring life;
Then hopeless, heartlefs, 'gan the cunning thief
Perfwade us dye, to ftint all further ftrife:
To me he lent this rope, to him a rusty knife.
XXX.

With which fad inftrument of hafty death,
That woeful Lover, loathing longer light,
A wide way made to let forth living breath.
But I more fearful, or more lucky wight,
Difmay'd with that deformed dismal fight,
Fled faft away, half dead with dying fear:
Ne yet affur'd of life by you, Sir Knight,
Whose like infirmity like chaunce may bear:
But God you never let his charmed fpeeches hear.

XXXI.

How may a man (faid he) with idle speech
Be won to spoyl the castle of his health?
I wote (quoth he) whom tryal late did teach,
That like would not for all this worldes wealth,
His fubtile tongue, like dropping honey, melt'th.
Into the heart, and fearcheth every vein.

That ere one be aware, by fecret stealth
His powre is reft, and weakness doth remain;
O! never fir defire to try his guileful train.
XXXII.

Certes (faid he) hence fhall I never reft,

Till I that treachours art have heard and tride;
And you
Sir Knight, whofe name mote I request,
Of grace do me unto his cabin guide.
I that hight Trevifan (quoth he) will ride
(Against my liking) back to do you grace;
But not for gold nor glee will I abide

By you, when ye arrive in that fame place;
For liefer had I dye, than fee his deadly face.
XXXIII.

Ere long they come, where that fame wicked wight
His dwelling has, low in an hollow cave,
Far underneath a craggy cliff ypight,

Dark, doleful, dreary, like a greedy grave,
That ftill for carrion carcafes doth crave:
On top whereof ay dwelt the gaftly Owl,
Shrieking his baleful note, which ever drave
Far from that haunt all other chearful fowl;
And all about it wandring ghofts did wail and howl.
XXXIV.

And all about, old stocks and stubs of trees,
Whereon nor fruit, nor leaf was ever seen,
Did hang upon the ragged rocky knees;
On which had many wretches hanged been,
Whose carcafes were fcattred on the green,
And thrown about the cliffs. Arrived there,
That bare-head Knight, for dread and doleful teen,
Would fain have fled, ne durft approchen near:
But th' other forct him stay, and comforted in fear.