And in the midst thereof one pretious stone Of wondrous worth, and cke of wondrous mights,

Shapt like a Ladies head, exceeding shone,
Like Hesperus emongst the lesser lights,
And strove for to amaze the weaker sights:
Thereby his mortall blade full comely hong
In yvory sheath, yearv'd with curious slights,
Whose hilts were burnisht gold, and handle

strong

Then gan the Dwarfe the whole discourse de-
The subtile traines of Archimago old, [clare;
The wanton loves of false Fidessa fayre, bold; Of mother perle; and buckled with a golden
Bought with the blood of vanquisht Paynim

tong.

Ne let it seeme that credence this exceedes; For he that made the same was knowne right

well

His haughtie Helmet, horrid all with gold,
Both glorious brightnesse and great terrour
For all the crest a Dragon did enfold [bredd:
With greedie pawes, and over all did spredd To have done much more admirable deedes,
His golden winges: his dreadfull hideous hedd, It Merlin was, which whylome did excell
Close couched on the bever, seemd to throw All living wightes in might of magicke spell:
From flaming mouth bright sparckles fiery redd, Both shield and sword, and armour all he
That suddeine horrour to faint hartes did show;
wrought
And scaly tayle was stretcht adowne his back
full low.

XXXII

Upon the top of all his loftie crest,
A bounch of heares discolourd diversly,
With sprincled pearle and gold full richly

drest,

Did shake, and seemd to daunce for jollity,
Like to an almond tree ymounted hye
On top of greene Selinis all alone,

With blossoms brave bedecked daintily;
Whose tender locks do tremble every one

For this young Prince, when first to armes he fell;

But, when he dyde, the Faery Queene it brought To Faerie lond, where yet it may be seene, if sought:

XXXVII

A gentle youth, his dearely loved Squire,
His speare of heben wood behind him bare,
Whose harmeful head, thrise heated in the tire,
Had riven many a brest with pikehead square:
A goodly person, and could menage faire
His stubborne steed with curbed canon bitt,

At everie little breath that under heaven is Who under him did trample as the aire,

blowne.

And chauft that any on his backe should sitt:
The yron rowels into frothy fome he bitt.

XXXVIII

Whenas this knight nigh to the Lady drew,
With lovely court he gan her entertaine;
But, when he heard her answers loth, he knew
Which to allay, and calme her storming paine,
Some secret sorrow did her heart distraine;
Faire feeling words he wisely gan display,
To tempt the cause it selfe for to bewray,
And for her humor fitting purpose faine,
Wherewith enmovd, these bleeding words she
gan to say.

XXXIX

What worlds delight, or joy of living speach,
Can hart, so plungd in sea of sorrowes deep,
And heaped with so huge misfortunes, reach?
The carefull cold beginneth for to creep,
And in my heart his yron arrow steep,
Soone as I thinke upon my bitter bale.
Such helplesse harmes yts better hidden keep,
Then rip up griefe where it may not availe:
My last left comfort is my woes to weepe and
waile.'

XL

No magicke arts hereof had any might,
Nor bloody wordes of bold Euchaunters call;
But all that was not such as seemd in sight Ah Lady deare,' quoth then the gentle knight,
Before that shield did fade, and suddeine fall: 'Well may I ween your griefe is wondrous
And when him list the raskall routes appall,
great;
[ spright,
Men into stones therewith he could transmew, For wondrous great griefe groneth in my
And stones to dust, and dust to nought at all; Whiles thus I heare you of your sorrowes treat.
And, when him list the prouder lookes subdew, But, woefull Lady, let me you intrete.
He would them gazing blind, or turne to other For to unfold the anguish of your hart:
Mishaps are maistred by advice discrete,

hew.

And counsell mitigates the greatest smart: Found never help who never would his hurts impart.'

XLI

'O, but,' (quoth she) 'great griefe will not be tould,

That famous harde atchievements still pursew;
Yet never any could that girlond win,
But all still shronke, and still he greater grew:
All they, for want of faith, or guilt of sin,
The pitteous pray of his fiers cruelty have bin.

XLVI

And can more easily be thought then said.' 'Right so,' (quoth he) 'but he that never would. At last, yled with far reported praise, [spred, Could never will to might gives greatest aid.' Which flying fame throughout the world had 'But griefe,' (quoth she) does greater grow dis- Of doughty knights, whom Faery land did raise, That noble order hight of maidenhed, plaid,' If then it find not helpe, and breeds despaire.' Forthwith to court of Gloriane I sped, 'Despaire breeds not,' (quoth he) where faith is Of Gloriane, great Queene of glory bright, [paire.' Whose kingdomes seat Cleopolis is red; No faith so fast,' (quoth she) 'but flesh does There to obtaine some such redoubted knight, 'Flesh may empaire,' (quoth he) but reason can That Parents deare from tyrants powre deliver

staid.'

repaire.'

XLII

might.

XLVII

'Yt was my chaunce (my chaunce was faire and good)

There for to find a fresh unproved knight;

His goodly reason, and well-guided speach,
So deepe did settle in her gracious thought,
That her perswaded to disclose the breach
Which love and fortune in her heart had Whose manly hands imbrewd in guilty blood
[brought Had never beene, ne ever by his might

wrought;
And said: Faire Sir, I hope good hap hath
You to inquere the secrets of my griefe,
Or that your wisedome will direct my thought,
Or that your prowesse can me yield reliefe:
Then, heare the story sad, which I shall tell you

briefe.

Had throwne to ground the unregarded right:
Yet of his prowesse proofe he since hath made
(I witnes am) in many a cruell fight;
The groning ghosts of many one dismaide
Have felt the bitter dint of his avenging blade.

XLVIII

And ye, the forlorne reliques of his powre,
His biting sword, and his devouring speare,
Which have endured many a dreadfull stowre,
And well could rule; now he hath left you
Can speake his prowesse that did earst you beare,
To be the record of his ruefull losse, [heare
And of my dolefull disaventurous deare.
O! heavie record of the good Redcrosse,
Where have yee left your lord that could so
well you tosse?

XLIX

'Well hoped I, and faire beginnings had.
That he my captive languor should redeeme:
Till, all unweeting, an Enchaunter bad
His sence abusd, and made him to misdeeme
My loyalty, not such as it did seeme,
That rather death desire then such despight.
Be judge, ye heavens, that all things right
esteeme,

How I him lov'd, and love with all my might.
So thought I eke of him, and think I thought
aright.

L

"Thenceforth me desolate he quite forsooke, To wander where wilde fortune would me lead, And other bywaies he himselfe betooke, Where never foote of living wight did tread,

That brought not backe the balefull body dead: Remedilesse for aie he doth him hold.

In which him chaunced false Duessa meete,
Mine onely foe, mine onely deadly dread;
Who with her witchcraft, and misseeming
sweete,

Inveigled him to follow her desires unmeete.

LI

At last, by subtile sleights she him betraid
Unto his foe, a Gyaunt huge and tall;
Who him disarmed, dissolute, dismaid,
Unwares surprised, and with mighty mall
The monster mercilesse him made to fall,
Whose fall did never foe before behold:
And now in darkesome dungeon, wretched
thrall,

I

This is my cause of griefe, more great then may be told.'

LII

Ere she had ended all she gan to faint:
But he her comforted, and faire bespake:
Certes, Madame, ye have great cause of plaint;
That stoutest heart, I weene, could cause to
quake:

But be of cheare, and comfort to you take;
For till I have acquitt your captive knight,
Assure your selfe I will you not forsake.'
His chearefull words reviv'd her chearelesse
spright,
[ever right.
So forth they went, the Dwarfe them guiding

CANTO VIII.

Faire virgin. to redeeme her deare,
Brings Arthure to the fight:

Who slayes the Gyaunt, wounds the beast,
And strips Duessa quight.

AY me! how many perils doe enfold
The righteous man, to make him daily fall,

Of that same hornes great virtues weren told,
Which had approved bene in uses manifold.

IV

Were not that heavenly grace doth him uphold, Was never wight that heard that shrilling

And stedfast truth acquite him out of all.
Her love is firme, her care continuall,
So oft as he, through his own foolish pride
Or weaknes, is to sinfull bands made thrall:
Els should this Redcrosse knight in bands have
dyde,
[thither guyd.
For whose deliverance she this Prince doth

sownd,

But trembling feare did feel in every vaine :
Three miles it might be easy heard arownd,
And Ecchoes three aunswer'd it selfe againe:
No false enchauntment, nor deceiptfull traine,
Might once abide the terror of that blast,
But presently was void and wholly vaine:
No gate so strong, no locke so firme and fast,
But with that percing noise flew open quite,
or brast.

50

His boystrous club, so buried in the grownd,
He could not reareu up againe so light,
But that the Knight him at advantage fownd;
And, whiles he strove his combred clubbe to
quight

XI

Dismayed with so desperate deadly wound,
And eke impatient of unwonted payne,
He loudly brayd with beastly yelling sownd,
That all the fieldes rebellowed againe.
As great a noyse, as when in Cymbrian plaine
An heard of Bulles, whom kindly rage doth
sting,

Doe for the milky mothers want complaine,
And till the fieldes with troublous bellowing:
The neighbor woods arownd with hollow mur-
mur ring.

XII

That when his deare Duessa heard, and saw

The evil stownd that daungerd her estate,
Unto his aide she hastily did draw Lof late,
Her dreadfull beast, who, swolne with blood
Came ramping forth with proud presumpteous
gate,

And threatned all his heades like flaming
brandes.

But him the Squire made quickly to retrate,
Encountring fiers with single sword in hand;
And twixt him and his Lord did like a bul-
warke stand.

XIII

The proud Duessa, full of wrathfull spight,
And fiers disdaine to be affronted so,
Enforst her purple beast with all her might,
That stop out of the way to overthroe,
Scorning the let of so unequall foe:

But uathemore would that corageous swayne
To her yeeld passage gainst his Lord to goe,
But with outrageous strokes did him restraine,
And with his body bard the way atwixt them
twaine.

XIV

Then tooke the angrie witch her golden cup,
Which still she bore, replete with magick artes;
Death and despeyre did many thereof sup,
And secret poyson through their inner partes,
Th' eternall bale of heavie wounded harts
Which, after charmes and some enchaunt-
ments said,

Therewith his sturdie corage soon was quayd,
She lightly sprinkled on his weaker partes:
And all his sences were with suddein dread
dismayd.

XV

Out of the earth, with blade all burning bright So downe he fell before the cruell beast,
He smott off his left arme, which like a block Who on his neck his bloody clawes did seize,
Did fall to ground, depriv'd of native might:
Large streames of blood out of the truncked
stock

Forth gushed, like fresh water streame from
riven rocke.

That life nigh crusht out of his panting brest :
No powre he had to stirre, nor will to rize.
That when the carefull knight gan well avise,
He lightly left the foe with whom he fought,
And to the beast gan turne his enterprise;