Forfaken Truth long feeks her love,
And makes the Lyon mild,
Marres blind Devotions mart, and falls
In band of Leachour vild.
Ought is there under heav'ns wide hollowness That moves more dear compaffion of mind, Than beauty brought t'unworthy wretchedness Through envy's fnares, or fortunes freaks unkind: I, whether lately through her brightness blind, Or through allegiance and faft fealty,
Which I do owe unto all woman-kind, Feel my heart pierct with fo great agony, When fuch I fee, that all for pity I could dye.
And now it is impaffioned fo deep,
For fairest Unas fake, of whom I fing,
That my frail eyes thefe lines with tears do steep,
To think how the through guileful handleing,
Though true as touch, though daughter of a King,
Though fair as ever-living wight was fair,
Though nor in word nor deed ill meriting,
Is from her Knight divorced in despair,
And her due Love's deriv'd to that vile Witches fhare
III.
Yet fhe most faithful Lady all this while
Forfaken, woeful folitary maid
Far from all peoples preafe, as in exile,
In wilderness and waftful deserts strayd
To feek her Knight; who, fubtilly betrayd
Through that late vifion, which th'enchanter wrought
Had her abandon'd. She of nought afraid,
Through woods and waftness wide him daily fought; Yet wifhed tydings none of him unto her brought,
One day, nigh weary of the irksome way,
From her unhafty beast she did alight,
And on the grafs her dainty limbs did lay
In fecret fhadow, far from all mens fight:
From her fair head her fillet fhe undight,
And laid her ftole afide. Her Angels face
As the great eye of heaven shined bright,
And made a fun-fhine in the shady place:
Did never mortal eye behold fuch heavenly grace.
V.
It fortuned out of the thickest wood
A ramping Lyon rushed fuddainly,
Hunting full greedy after falvage blood;
Soon as the royal virgin he did spy,
With gaping mouth at her ran greedily,
To have attonce devour'd her tender corfe:
But to the prey when as he drew more nigh,
His bloody rage affwaged with remorse.
And with the fight amaz'd, forgat his furious force.
VI.
Inftead thereof he kist her weary feet,
And lickt her lilly hands with fawning tong, As he her wronged innocence did weet. O! how can beauty mafter the most strong, And fimple truth fubdue avenging wrong! Whose yielded pride, and proud fubmiffion, Still dreading death, when she had marked long, Her heart 'gan melt in great compassion, And drizling tears did shed for pure affection. VII.
The Lyon, Lord of every beaft in field,
Quoth fhe, his princely puiffance doth abate,
And mighty proud, to humble weak does yield,
Forgetful of the hungry rage, which late
Him prickt, in pity of my fad eftate:
But he my Lyon, and my noble Lord,
How does he find in cruel heart to hate
Her that him lov'd, and ever moft ador'd,
As the God of my life? why hath he me abhord?
Redounding tears did choke th' end of her plaint,
Which foftly ecchoed from the neighbour wood;
And fad to fee her forrowful constraint,
The kingly beast upon her gazing stood;
With pity calm'd, down fell his angry mood:
At laft, in clofe heart fhutting up her pain,
Arofe the virgin born of heavenly brood,
And to her fnowy palfrey got again,
To feek her strayed champion if she might attain.
IX.
The Lyon would not leave her defolate,
But with her went along, as a strong guard
Of her chafte perfon and a faithful mate,
Of her fad troubles and misfortunes hard:
Still when the flept, he kept both watch and ward:
And when the wakt, he waited diligent,
With humble fervice to her will prepar'd:
From her fair eyes he took commandement,
And ever by her looks conceived her intent.
Long fhe thus travelled through deferts wide,
By which the thought her wandring Knight should pass,
Yet never fhew of living wight efpide;
Till that at length fhe found the trodden grafs,
In which the tract of peoples footing was,
Under the fteep foot of a mountain hoare;
The fame fhe follows, till at last fhe has
A Damzel fpide, flow footing her before,
That on her thoulders fad a pot of water bore.
XI.
To whom approching, fhe to her 'gan call,
To weet if dwelling place were nigh at hand;
But the rude wench her anfwered nought at all,
She could not hear, nor fpeak, nor understand;
Till feeing by her fide the Lyon stand,
With fuddain fear her pitcher down fhe threw,
And fied away: for never in that land.
Face of fair Lady fhe before did view,
And that dread Lyons look her caft in deadly hew.
Full faft fhe fled, ne ever lookt behind,
As if her life upon the wager lay;
And home fhe came, whereas her mother blind
Sate in eternal night: nought could she say;
But fuddain catching hold, did her dismay
With quaking hands, and other figns of fear:
Who full of ghaftly fright and cold affray,
'Gan fhut the door. By this, arrived there
Dame Una, weary Dame, and entrance did requere.
XIII.
Which when none yielded, her unruly page
With his rude claws the wicket open rent,
And let her in; where, of his cruel rage
Nigh dead with fear, and faint astonishment,
She found them both in darksome corner pent;
Where that old woman day and night did pray
Upon her beads devoutly penitent;
Nine hundred Pater-nofters ev'ry day,
And thrice nine hundred Aves fhe was wont to fay.
XIV.
And to augment her painful penance more,
Thrice every week in afhes fhe did fit,
And next her wrinkled fkin rough fackcloth wore,
And thrice three times did fast from any bit:
But now for fear her beads fhe did forget.
Whose needlefs dread for to remove away,
Fair Una framed words and count'nance fit:
Which hardly doen, at length fhe 'gan them pray,
That in their cotage fmall, that night the rest her may.
XV.
The day is spent, and cometh droufie night,
When every creature fhrouded is in fleep;
Sad Una down her lays in weary plight,
And at her feet the Lyon watch doth keep:
Inftead of reft, fhe does lament and weep
For the late lofs of her dear loved Knight,
And fighs, and groans, and evermore does steep
Her tender breaft in bitter tears all night:
All night he thinks too long, and often looks for light,
Now when Aldeboran was mounted hie
Above the fhiny Caffiopeias chaire,
And all in deadly fleep did drowned lye,
One knocked at the door, and in would fare;
He knocked fast, and often curst, and sware,
That ready entrance was not at his call:
For on his back a heavy load he bare
Of nightly ftelths, and pilage feveral,
Which he had got abroad by purchase criminal.
XVII.
He was to weet a ftout and sturdy thief,
Wont to rob churches of their ornaments,
And poor mens boxes of their due relief,
Which given was to them for good intents;
The holy Saints of their rich veftiments
He did difrobe, when all men careless flept,
And spoil'd the Priests of their habiliments
Whiles none the holy things in fafety kept,
Then he by cunning fleights in at the window crept.
XVIII.
And all that he by right or wrong could find,
Unto this house he brought, and did beftow
Upon the daughter of this woman blind,
Abella, daughter of Corceca flow,
With whom he whoredom us'd, that few did know,
And fed her fat with feaft of offerings,
And plenty, which in all the land did grow:
Ne fpared he to give her gold and rings,
And now he to her brought part of his ftolen things.
Thus long the door with rage and threats he bet,
Yet of thofe fearful women none durft rife:
(The Lyon frayed them,) him in to let.
He would no longer ftay him to advise,
But open breaks the door in furious wife,
And entring is; when that disdainful beaft
Encountring fierce, him fuddain doth furprize;
And feizing cruel claws on trembling breast,
Under his lordly foot him proudly hath fuppreft.
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