The fame fo fore annoyed has the Knight,
That well-nigh choked with the deadly ftink,,
His forces fail, ne can no longer fight,
Whose courage when the fiend perceiv'd to fhrink,
She poured forth out of her hellish fink
Her fruitful curfed fpawn of ferpents fmall,
Deformed monfters, foul, and black as ink;
Which fwarming all about his legs did crawl,
And him encumbred fore, but could not hurt at all.
XXIII.
As gentle Shepherd in fweet even-tide,
When ruddy Phabus 'gins to welk in west,
High on an hill, his flock to viewen wide,
Marks which do bite their hafty supper beft;
A cloud of cumbrous Gnats do him moleft,
All ftriving to infix their feeble ftings,
That from their noyance he no where can rest,
But with his clownish hands their tender wings
He brufheth oft, and oft doth mar their murmurings.
XXIV.
Thus ill-beftedd and fearful more of fhame,
Than of the certain peril he stood in,
Half furious unto his foe he came,
Refolv'd in mind all fuddainly to win,
Or foon to lofe, before he once would lin;
And ftrook at her with more than manly force,
That from her body full of filthy fin
He raft her hateful head without remorfe;
Aftream of coal-black blood forth gushed from her corfe.
XXV.
Her fcattred brood, foon as their parent dear
They faw fo rudely falling to the ground,
Groaning full deadly, all with troublous fear,
Gathred themselves about her body round,
Weening their wonted entrance to have found
At her wide mouth: but, being there with-stood,
They flocked all about her bleeding wound,
And fucked up their dying mothers blood;
Making her death their life, and eke her hurt their good.
That deteftable fight him much amaz'd,
To fee th' unkindly imps of heaven accurst,
Devour their dam; on whom while fo he gaz'd,
Having all fatisfy'd their bloody thirst,
Their bellies (wolne he faw with fulness burst,
And bowels gufhing forth: well worthy end
Of fuch as drunk her life, the which them nurst;
Now needeth him no longer labour spend:
[tend. His foes have flain themselves, with whom he should conXXVII.
His Lady, feeing all that chanct from far,
Approcht in hafte to greet his victory;
And faid, fair Knight, born under happy ftar,
Who fee your vanquifht foes before you lye:
Well worthy be you of that armory,
Wherein ye have great glory won this day,
And prov'd your strength on a strong enemy,
Your firft adventure: many fuch I pray,
And henceforth ever wifh, that like fucceed it may.
XXVIII.
Then mounted he upon his fteed again,
And with the Lady backward fought to wend;
That path he kept, which beaten was most plain,
Ne ever would to any by-way bend,
But ftill did follow one unto the end,
The which at laft out of the wood them brought.
So forward on his way (with God to friend)
He paffed forth, and new adventure sought;
Long way he travelled before he heard of ought.
XXIX.
At length they chanct to meet upon the way
An aged Sire, in long black weeds yclad,
His feet all bare, his beard all hoary gray,
And by his belt his book he hanging had;
Sober he seem'd, and very fagely fad,
And to the ground his eyes were lowly bent,
Simple in fhew, and void of malice bad,
And all the way he prayed as he went,
And often knockt his breaft, as one that did repent.
XXX.
He fair the Knight faluted, louting low;
Who fair him quited, as that courteous was:
And after asked him, if he did know
Of strange adventures, which abroad did pass.
Ah! my dear fon (quoth he) how should, alas!
Silly old man, that lives in hidden cell,
Bidding his beads all day for his trespass,
Tidings of war and wordly trouble tell?
With holy father fits not with fuch things to mell.
XXXI.
But if of danger which hereby doth dwell,
And home-bred evil ye defire to hear,
Of a strange man I can you tidings tell,
That wafteth all this country far and near.
Of fuch (faid he) I chiefly do inquear,
And fhall thee well reward to fhew the place,
In which that wicked wight his days doth wear:
For to all knighthood it is foul difgrace,
That fuch a curfed creature lives fo long a space.
XXXII.
Far hence (quoth he) in waftful wilderness
His dwelling is, by which no living wight
May ever pafs, but thorough great diftrefs.
Now (faid the Lady) draweth toward night,
And weil I wote, that of your later fight
Ye all forwearied be: for what so strong,
But wanting reft, will also want of might
The fun that measures heaven all day long,
At night doth bait his fteeds the Ocean waves among.
XXXIII.
Then with the fun, take fir, your timely reft,
And with new day new work at once begin:
Untroubled night (they fay) gives counsel best,
Right well Sir Knight ye have advised bin
(Quoth then that aged man;) the way to win
Is wifely to advife; now day is spent;
Therefore with me ye may take up your inn
For this fame night. The Knight was well content;
So with that godly father to his home they went.
XXXIV.
A little lowly hermitage it was,
Down in a dale, hard by a forests fide,
Far from refort of people, that did pafs
In travel to and fro: a little wide
There was an holy chappel edifide,
Wherein the Hermit duly wont to fay
His holy things each morn and even-tide:
Thereby a chryftal ftream did gently play,
Which from a facred fountain welled forth alway.
XXXV.
Arrived there, the little house they fill,
Ne look for entertainment, where none was:
Reft is their feaft, and all things at their will;
The nobleft mind the best contentment has.
With fair difcourfe the evening fo they pafs:
For that old man of pleafing words had ftore,
And well could file his tongue as smooth as glass
He told of Saints and Popes and evermore
He ftrow'd an Ave-mary after and before.
XXXVI.
The drooping night thus creepeth on them faft,
And the fad humour loading their eye-lids,
As meffenger of Morpheus on them caft
Sweet flumbring dew, the which to fleep them bids.
Unto their lodgings then his guests he rids:
Where when all drown'd in deadly fleep he finds,
He to his study goes, and there amids
His magick books and arts of fundry kinds,
He feeks out mighty charms, to trouble fleepy minds.
XXXVII.
Then chufing out few words most horrible, (Let none them read) thereof did verses frame, With which, and other fpells like terrible, He bade awake black Pluto's griefly dame, And curfed heaven, and fpake reproachful fhame, Of highest God, the lord of life and light; A bold bad man, that dar'd to call by name Great Gorgon, Prince of darknefs and dead night, At which Cocytus quakes, and Styx is put to flight.
And forth he call'd out of deep darknefs dread
Legions of sprites the which like little flies
Fluttring about his ever damned head,
Await whereto their fervice he applies,
To aid his friends, or fray his enemies :
Of those he chofe out two, the falfeft two,
And fitteft for to forge true-feeming lyes;
The one of them he gave a meffage to,
The other by himself staid other work to do.
XXXIX.
He making speedy way through íperfed air,
And through the world of waters wide and deep,
To Morpheus houfe doth haftily repair:
Amid the bowels of the earth full fteep
And low, where dawning day doth never peep;
His dwelling is; there Tethys his wet bed
Doth ever wash, and Cynthia ftill doth steep
In filver dew his ever-drooping head,
While fad Night over him her mantle black doth fpread.
XL.
Whose double gates he findeth locked fast,
The one fair fram'd of burnifht ivory;
The other, all with filver overcaft;
And wakeful dogs before them far do lie,
Watching to banish care their enemy,
Who oft is wont to trouble gentle fleep.
By them the sprite doth pafs in quietly,
And unto Morpheus comes, whom drowned deep In drowfie fit he finds: of nothing he takes keep. XLI.
And more to lull him in his flumber foft,
A trickling ftream from high rock tumbling down, And ever-drizling rain upon the loft,
Mixt with a murmuring wind, much like the fown' Of fwarming bees, did caft him in a swoun: No other noife, nor peoples troublous cries. As ftill are wont t' annoy the walled town, Might there be heard: but careless quiet lies, Wrapt in eternal filence, far from enemies.
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