And ever when fhe nigh approacht, the Dove
Would fit a little forward, and then stay
Till the drew near, and then again remove :
So tempting her ftill to purfue the prey,
And ftill from her efcaping foft away:
Till that at length, into that foreft wide
She drew her far, and led with flow delay.
In th'end, the her unto that place did guide,
Whereas that woeful man in languor did abide.
XII.
Eftfoons fhe flew unto his fearless hand,
And there a piteous ditty new devis'd.
As if he would have made him understand,
His forrows caufe to be of her defpis'd.
Whom when the faw in wretched weeds diguis'd,
With hairy glib deform'd, and meagre face,
Like Ghoit late rifen from his grave agris'd,
She knew him not but pitied much his cafe,
And wifht it were in her to do him any grace.
XIII.
He her beholding, at her feet down fell,
And kift the ground on which her fole did tread,
And washt the fame with water, which did well
From his moift eyes, and like two ftreams proceed;
Yet fpake no word, whereby fhe might aread
What mifter wight he was, or what he meant:
But as one daunted with her prefence dread,
Only few rueful looks unto her fent,
As meffengers of his true meaning and intent.
XIV.
Yet nathemore, his meaning fhe aread,
But wondred much at his fo felcouth cafe;
And by his perfons fecret feemlihead
Well weend, that he had been fome man of place,
Before misfortune did his hue deface:
That being mov'd with ruth the thus befpake; › Ah! woeful man, what heavens hard difgrace, Or wrath of cruel wight on thee ywrake,
Or felf disliked life, doth thee thus wretched make? VOL. II.
If heaven, then none may it redrefs or blame,
Sith to his powre we all are fubject born:
If wrathful wight, then foul rebuke and shame
Be theirs, that have fo cruel thee forlorn;
But if through inward grief, or wilful scorn
Of life it be, then better do advise.
For he whofe days in wilful woe are worn,
The grace of his creator doth defpife,
That will not ufe his gifts for thankless nigardife.
XVI.
When fo he heard her fay, eftfoons he brake
His tedious filence, which he long had pent,
And fighing inly deep, her thus befpake:
Then have they all themfelves against me bent :
For heaven (first author of my languishment)
Envying my too great felicity,
Did clofely with a cruel one confent,
To cloud my days in doleful misery,
And make me loath this life, ftill longing for to dye.
XVII.
Ne any but your felf, O dearest dred,
Hath done this wrong; to wreak on worthless wight
Your high difpleasure, through mifdeeming bred:
That when your pleasure is to deem aright,
You may redress, and me restore to light.
Which forry words, her mighty heart did mate
With mild regard, to fee his rueful plight,
That her in-burning wrath fhe 'gan abate,
And him receiv'd again to former favours ftate.
XVIII.
In which, he long time afterwards did lead
An happy life, with grace and good accord;
Fearless of fortunes change, or envies dread,
And eke all mindless of his own dear Lord
The noble Prince, who never heard one word
Of tidings, what did unto him betide,
Or what good fortune did to him afford;
But through the endless world did wander wide,
Him feeking ever more, yet no where him defcride;
Till on a day, as through that wood he rode,
He chanc'd to come where thofe two Ladies late,
Emylia and Amoret abode,
Both in full fad and forrowful eftate;
The one right feeble, through the evil rate
Of food, which in her duress she had found:
The other almoft dead and defperate
Through her late hurts, and through that hapless wound, With which the Squire in her defence her fore aftound. XX.
Whom when the Prince beheld, he 'gan to rew
The evil cafe in which thofe Ladies lay,
But moft was moved at the piteous view
Of Amoret, fo near unto decay,
That her great danger did him much dismay.
Eftfoons that precious liquor forth he drew,
Which he in ftore about him kept alway,
And with few drops thereof did foftly dew
Her wounds, that unto ftrength restor❜d her foon anew.
XXI.
Tho when they both recover'd were right well,
He 'gan of them inquire, what evil guide
Them thither brought; and how their harms befell
To whom they told all that did them betide,
And how from thraldom vile they were untide
Of that fame wicked Carle, by virgins hond;
Whose bloody corfe they fhew'd him there befide,
And eke his cave, in which they both were bond:
At which he wondred much, when all thofe figns he fond.
XXII.
And evermore, he greatly did defire
To know, what virgin did them thence unbind;
And oft of them did earnestly inquire,
Where was her wonne, and how he mote her find.
But whenas nought according to his mind
He could out-learn, he them from ground did rear (No fervice loathfome to a gentle kind)
And on his warlike beaft them both did bear, Himself by them on foot to fuccour them from fear.
So when that foreft they had paffed well,
A little cottage far away they fpide,
To which they drew, ere night upon them fell;
And entring in, found none therein abide,
But one old woman fitting there befide,
Upon the ground in ragged rude attire,
With filthy locks about her scatter'd wide,
Gnawing her nails for felnefs and for ire,
And thereout fucking venom to her parts entire.
XXIV.
A foul and loathly creature fure in fight,
And in conditions to be loath'd no lefs:
For she was stuft with rancour and defpight
Up to the throat; that oft with bitterness
It forth would break, and gush in great excess,
Pouring out ftreams of poilon and of gall,
Gainft all that truth or vertue do profels;
Whom she with leafings lewdly did mifcall,
And wickedly back-bite: her name men Slander call.
XXV.
Her nature is all goodness to abufe,
And causeless crimes continually to frame;
With which the guiltlefs perfons may accufe,
And steal away the crown of their good name:
Ne ever Knight fo bold, ne ever Dame
So chaste and loyal liv'd, but she would strive
With forged cause them falfly to defame:
Ne ever thing fo well was doen alive,
But the with blame would blot, and of due praife deprive.
XXVI.
Her words were not as common words are meant,
T'exprefs the meaning of the inward mind;
But noifome breath, and poil'nous fpirit fent
From inward parts, with cankred malice lin'd,
And breathed forth with blaft of bitter wind;
Which paffing through the ears, would pierce the heart,
And wound the foul it felf with grief unkind:
For like the ftings of Afps, that kill with fmart,
Her fpightful words did prick, and wound the inner part
Such was that Hag, unmeet to hoft fuch guests,
Whom greatest Princes court would welcome fain;
But need (that answers not to all requests)
Bade them not look for better entertain;
And eke that age defpifed niceness vain,
Enur'd to hardnefs and to homely fare,
Which them to walike difcipline did train,
And manly limbs endur'd with little care,
Against all hard mishaps, and fortunelefs misfare.
XXVIII.
Then all that evening (welcomed with cold.
And chearless hunger) they together spent;
Yet found no fault, but that the Hag did fcold
And rail at them with grudgeful difcontent,
For lodging there without her own confent:
Yet they endured all with patience mild,
And unto reft themselves all only lent,
Regardless of that quean fo base and vild,
To be unjustly blam'd, and bitterly revil'd.
XXIX.
Here well I ween, whenas these rhimes be read
With mis-regard, that some rash witted wight,
Whose loofer thought will lightly be misled,
These gentle Ladies will mifdeem too light,
For thus converfing with this noble Knight;
Sith now of days fuch temperance is rare
And hard to find, that heat of youthful spright
For ought will from his greedy pleafure fpare,
More hard for hungry fteed t'abstain from pleasant lare.
XXX.
But antique age, yet in the infancy
Of time, did live then like an innocent,
In fimple truth and blameless chastity,
Ne then of guile had made experiment;
But void of vile and treacherous intent,
Held vertue for it felf in foveraine awe:
Then loyal love had royal regiment,
And each unto his luft did make a law,
From all forbidden things his liking to withdraw.
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