He tooke him selfe unto this Hermitage,
In which he liv'd alone, like carelesse bird in
cage,
One day, as he was searching of their
wounds,
He found that they had festred privily;
And ranckling inward with unruly stounds,
The inner parts now gan to putrify,
That quite they seem'd past helpe of surgery;
And rather needed to be disciplinde
With holesome reede of sad sobriety,
To rule the stubborne rage of passion blinde:
Give salves to every sore, but counsell to the
minde.
So, taking them apart into his cell,
He to that point fit speaches gan to frame,
As he the art of words knew wondrous well,
And eke could doe as well as say the same;
And thus he to them sayd: 'Faire daughter
[now lie
Dame,
And you, faire Sonne, which here thus long
In piteous languor since ye hither came,
In vaiue of me ye hope for remedie,
And I likewise in vaine doe salves to you
applie:
For in your selfe your onely helpe doth lie
To heale your selves, and must proceed alone
From your owne will to cure your maladie
Who can him cure that will be cur'd of none?
If therefore health ye seeke, observe this one:
First learne your outward senses to refraine
From things that stirre up fraile affection;
Your eies, your eares, your tongue, your talk
[containe.
restraine
From that they most affect, and in due termes
For from those outward sences, ill affected,
The seede of all this evill first doth spring,
Which at the first, before it had infected,
Mote easie be supprest with little thing;
But being growen strong it forth doth bring
Sorrow, and anguish, and impatient paine,
In th' immer parts; and lastly, scattering
Contagious poyson close through every vaine, That rather needes wise read and discipline, It never rests till it have wrought his finall Then outward salves that may augment it bane.
'Aye me!' (sayd then Serena, sighing sore) 'For that beastes teeth, which wounded you If that no salves may us to health restore?' What hope of helpe doth then for us remaine,
Are so exceeding venemous and keene,
Made all of rusty yron ranekling sore,
That where they bite it booteth not to weene
With salve, or antidote, or other mene,
It ever to amend: ne marvaile ought,
For that same beast was bred of hellish strene,
And long in darksome Stygian den upbrought,
Begot of foule Echidna, as in bookes is
taught.
'Echidna is a Monster direfull dred,
But sith we need good counsell,' (sayd the
[sustaine.' Aread, good Sire, some counsell that may us
Is to avoide the occasion of the ill:
'The best' (sayd he) that I can you advize,
For when the cause, whence evill doth arize,
Removed is, th' effect surceaseth still. [will;
Abstaine from pleasure, and restraine your
Subdue desire, and bridle loose delight;
Use scanted diet, and forbeare your fill;
Whom Gods doe hate, and heavens abhor to Shun secresie, and talke in open sight:
So hideous is her shape, so huge her hed,
That even the hellish fiends affrighted bee
At sight thereof, and from her presence flee:
Yet did her face and former parts professe
A faire young Mayden, full of comely glee;
But all her hinder parts did plaine expresse
A monstrous Dragon, full of fearefull uglinesse.
So shall you soone repaire your present evill plight.'
But each the other vow'd t' accompany:
The Lady, for that she was much in dred,
The Squire, for that he courteous was indeed,
Now left alone in great extremity;
Would not her leave alone in her great need.
So both together traveld, till they met
With a faire Mayden clad in mourning weed,
And a lewd foole her leading thorough dry
Upon a mangy jade unmeetely set,
and wet.
But by what meanes that shame to her
befell,
And how thereof her selfe she did acquite,
I must awhile forbeare to you to tell;
Till that, as comes by course. I doe recite
Pursuing that proud Knight, the which
What fortune to the Briton Prince did lite,
Wrought to Sir Calepine so foule despight;
And eke his Lady, though she sickely were,
So lewdly had abusde, as ye did lately heare.
'Art thou he, traytor, that with treason vile Hast slaine my men in this unmanly maner, And now triumphest in the piteous spoile Of these poore folk, whose soules with black dishonor
And foule defame doe decke thy bloudy baner? The meede whereof shall shortly be thy shame, And wretched end which still attendeth on her.' With that him selfe to battell he did frame:
But he, the more outrageous and bold,
Sternely did bid him quickely thence avaunt, So did his forty yeomen, which there with him
Or deare aby; for-why his Lord of old
Did hate all errant Knights which there did
With dreadfull force they all did him assaile, And round about with boystrous strokes oppresse,
That on his shield did rattle like to haile
In a great tempest; that in such distresse
He wist not to which side him to addresse:
And evermore that craven cowherd Knight
Was at his backe with heartlesse heedinesse,
Which when the Salvage, comming now in Wayting if he unwares him murther might;
Beheld, eftsoones he ail enraged grew,
And, running streight upon that villaine base,
Like a fell Lion at him fiercely flew,
And with his teeth and nailes, in present vew,
Him rudely rent and all to peeces tore;
So miserably him all helpelesse slew,
For cowardize doth still in villany delight.
Whereof whenas the Prince was well aware, He to him turnd with furious intent, And him against his powre gan to prepare ; Like a fierce Bull, that being busie bent
To fight with many foes about him ment,
Feeling some curre behinde his heeles to bite,
Turnes him about with fell avengement:
So likewise turnde the Prince upon the Knight,
And layd at him amaine with all his will and
might.
Who, when he once his dreadfull strokes had
Durst not the furie of his force abyde, [tasted,
But turn'd abacke, and to retyre him hasted
Through the thick prease, there thinking him
to hyde:
But, when the Prince had once him plainely
[eyde,
He foot by foot him followed alway,
Ne would him suffer once to shrinke asyde,
But joyning close huge lode at him did lay;
Who flying still did ward, and warding fly
away.
But, when his foe he still so eager saw,
Unto his heeles himselfe he did betake,
Hoping unto some refuge to withdraw:
Ne would the Prince him ever foot forsake
Where so he went, but after him did make.
He fled from roome to roome, from place to place,
Whylest every joynt for dread of death did
quake,
Still looking after him that did him chace,
That made him evermore increase his speedie
pace.
At last he up into the chamber came
Whereas his love was sitting all alone,
Wayting what tydings of her folke became.
There did the Prince him overtake anone,
Crying in vaine to her him to bemone;
And with his sword him on the head did smyte,
That to the ground he fell in senselesse swone:
Yet, whether thwart or flatly it did lyte,
The tempred steele did not into his braynepan
byte.
Which when the Ladie saw, with great af-
fright
She starting up began to shrieke aloud;
And with her garment covering him from sight,|
Seem'd under her protection him to shroud;
And falling lowly at his feet her bowd
Upon her knee, intreating him for grace,
And often him besought, and prayd, and vowd,
That with the ruth of her so wretched case,
He stayd his second strooke, and did his hand
abase.
Her weed she then withdrawing did him dis
Who now come to himselfe yet would not rize,
That even the Prince his basenesse did de-
But still did lie as dead, and quake, and quiver,
spize;
And eke his Dame, him seeing in such guize,
Gan him recomfort and from ground to reare:
Who rising up at last in ghastly wize,
As one that had no life him left through for-
Like troubled ghost, did dreadfully appeare,
mer feare.
Whom when the Prince so deadly saw dismayd,
And with sharpe words did bitterly upbreyd:
He for such basenesse shamefully him shent,
Vile cowheard dogge! now doe I much repent,
Whereof thou, caytive, so unworthie art,
That ever I this life unto thee lent,
That both thy love, for lacke of hardiment,
And eke thy selfe, for want of manly hart,
And eke all knights hast shamed with this
knightlesse part.
For first, it was to thee reprochfull blame
To erect this wicked custome, which I heare
Gainst errant Knights and Ladies thou dost
Whom when thou mayst thou dost of arms de-
[spoile,
Or of their upper garment
Yet doest thou not with manhood, but with guile,
hey weare;
Maintaine this evil use, thy foes thereby to
foile.
To shew such faintnesse and foule cowardize
And lastly, in approvance of thy wrong.
Is greatest shame; for oft it falles, that strong
Either for fame, or else for exercize,
And valiant Knights doe rashly enterprize
A wrongfull quarrell to maintaine by fight:
Yet have through prowesse and their brave
emprize
Gotten great worship in this worldes sight: For greater force there needs to maintaine wrong then right.
given have, live in reproch and scorne,
'Yet, since thy life unto this Ladie fayre
Hence to professe; for shame is to adorne
Ne ever armes ne ever knighthood dare
With so brave badges one so basely borne:
So having from his craven bodie torne
But onely breath, sith that I did forgive.'
And onely suffred him this wretched life to live.
Those goodly armes, he them away did give,
Whether such grace were given her by kynd, As women wont their guilefull wits to guyde, Or learn'd the art to please, I doe not fynd : This well I wote, that she so well applyde Her pleasing tongue, that soone she pacify de The wrathfull Prince, and wrought her husbands peace:
Whom when the Prince so felly saw to rage,
Approching to him neare, his hand he stayd,
And sought by making signes him to asswage;
Who them perceiving streight to him obayd,
As to his Lord, and downe his weapons layd,
As if he long had to his heasts bene trayned.
Thence he him brought away, and up convayd
Into the chamber, where that Dame remayned Who nathelesse, not therewith satisfyde,
With her unworthy kuight, who ill him en- His rancorous despight did not releasse,
Ne secretly from thought of fell revenge
|