VII
Now when the rosy-fingred Morning° faire, 55 Weary of aged Tithones° saffron bed, Had spread her purple robe through deawy aire, And the high hils Titan° discovered, The royall virgin shooke off drowsy-hed; And rising forth out of her baser bowre, 60 Lookt for her knight, who far away was fled, And for her Dwarfe, that wont to wait each houre: Then gan she waile and weepe, to see that woefull stowre.
VIII
And after him she rode with so much speede As her slow beast could make; but all in vaine: 65 For him so far had borne his light-foot steede, Pricked with wrath and fiery fierce disdaine, That him to follow was but fruitlesse paine; Yet she her weary limbes would never rest, But every hill and dale, each wood and plaine, 70 Did search, sore grieved in her gentle brest, He so ungently left her, whom she loved best.
IX
But subtill Archimago, when his guests He saw divided into double parts, And Una wandring in woods and forrests, 75 Th' end of his drift, he praisd his divelish arts, That had such might over true meaning harts: Yet rests not so, but other meanes doth make, How he may worke unto her further smarts: For her he hated as the hissing snake, 80 And in her many troubles did most pleasure take.
X
He then devisde himselfe how to disguise; For by his mightie science he could take As many formes and shapes in seeming wise, As ever Proteus° to himselfe could make: 85 Sometime a fowle, sometime a fish in lake, Now like a foxe, now like a dragon fell, That of himselfe he ofte for feare would quake, And oft would flie away. O who can tell The hidden power of herbes° and might of Magicke spell? 90
XI
But now seemde best the person to put on Of that good knight, his late beguiled guest: In mighty armes he was yclad anon: And silver shield, upon his coward brest A bloudy crosse, and on his craven crest 95 A bounch of haires discolourd diversly: Full jolly knight he seemde, and well addrest, And when he sate upon his courser free, Saint George himself ye would have deemed him to be.
XII
But he the knight, whose semblaunt he did beare, 100 The true Saint George, was wandred far away, Still flying from his thoughts and gealous feare; Will was his guide, and griefe led him astray. At last him chaunst to meete upon the way A faithless Sarazin° all arm'd to point, 105 In whose great shield was writ with letters gay _Sans foy:_ full large of limbe and every joint He was, and cared not for God or man a point.
XIII
He had a faire companion° of his way, A goodly Lady clad in scarlot red, 110 Purfled with gold and pearle of rich assay, And like a Persian mitre on her hed She wore, with crowns and owches garnished, The which her lavish lovers to her gave; Her wanton palfrey all was overspred 115 With tinsell trappings, woven like a wave, Whose bridle rung with golden bels and bosses brave.
XIV
With faire disport and courting dalliaunce She intertainde her lover all the way: But when she saw the knight his speare advaunce, 120 She soone left off her mirth and wanton play, And bade her knight addresse him to the fray: His foe was nigh at hand. He prickt with pride And hope to winne his Ladies heart that day, Forth spurred fast: adowne his coursers side 125 The red bloud trickling staind the way, as he did ride.
XV
The knight of the Redcrosse when him he spide, Spurring so hote with rage dispiteous, Gan fairely couch his speare, and towards ride: Soone meete they both, both fell and furious, 130 That daunted with their forces hideous, Their steeds do stagger, and amazed stand, And eke themselves, too rudely rigorous, Astonied with the stroke of their owne hand Doe backe rebut, and each to other yeeldeth land. 135
XVI
As when two rams° stird with ambitious pride, Fight for the rule of the rich fleeced flocke, Their horned fronts so fierce on either side Do meete, that with the terrour of the shocke Astonied both, stand sencelesse as a blocke, 140 Forgetfull of the hanging victory:° So stood these twaine, unmoved as a rocke, Both staring fierce, and holding idely The broken reliques° of their former cruelty.
XVII
The Sarazin sore daunted with the buffe 145 Snatcheth his sword, and fiercely to him flies; Who well it wards, and quyteth cuff with cuff: Each others equall puissaunce envies,° And through their iron sides° with cruell spies Does seeke to perce: repining courage yields 150 No foote to foe. The flashing fier flies As from a forge out of their burning shields, And streams of purple bloud new dies the verdant fields.
XVIII
Curse on that Crosse (quoth then the Sarazin), That keepes thy body from the bitter fit;° 155 Dead long ygoe I wote thou haddest bin, Had not that charme from thee forwarned it: But yet I warne thee now assured sitt,° And hide thy head. Therewith upon his crest With rigour so outrageous° he smitt, 160 That a large share° it hewd out of the rest, And glauncing down his shield from blame him fairly blest.°
XIX
Who thereat wondrous wroth, the sleeping spark Of native vertue gan eftsoones revive, And at his haughtie helmet making mark, 165 So hugely stroke, that it the steele did rive, And cleft his head. He tumbling downe alive, With bloudy mouth his mother earth did kis. Greeting his grave: his grudging° ghost did strive With the fraile flesh; at last it flitted is, 170 Whither the soules do fly of men that live amis.
XX
The Lady when she saw her champion fall, Like the old ruines of a broken towre, Staid not to waile his woefull funerall, But from him fled away with all her powre; 175 Who after her as hastily gan scowre, Bidding the Dwarfe with him to bring away The Sarazins shield, signe of the conqueroure. Her soone he overtooke, and bad to stay, For present cause was none of dread her to dismay. 180
XXI
She turning backe with ruefull countenaunce, Cride, Mercy mercy Sir vouchsafe to show On silly Dame, subject to hard mischaunce, And to your mighty will. Her humblesse low In so ritch weedes and seeming glorious show, 185 Did much emmove his stout heroicke heart, And said, Deare dame, your suddin overthrow Much rueth me; but now put feare apart, And tell, both who ye be, and who that tooke your part.
XXII
Melting in teares, then gan she thus lament; 190 The wretched woman, whom unhappy howre Hath now made thrall to your commandement, Before that angry heavens list to lowre, And fortune false betraide me to your powre, Was, (O what now availeth that I was!) 195 Borne the sole daughter of an Emperour,° He that the wide West under his rule has, And high hath set his throne, where Tiberis doth pas.
XXIII
He in the first flowre of my freshest age, Betrothed me unto the onely haire° 200 Of a most mighty king, most rich and sage; Was never Prince so faithfull and so faire, Was never Prince so meeke and debonaire; But ere my hoped day of spousall shone, My dearest Lord fell from high honours staire 205 Into the hands of his accursed fone, And cruelly was slaine, that shall I ever mone.
XXIV
His blessed body spoild of lively breath, Was afterward, I know not how, convaid And fro me hid: of whose most innocent death 210 When tidings came to me, unhappy maid, O how great sorrow my sad soule assaid. Then forth I went his woefull corse to find, And many yeares throughout the world I straid, A virgin widow, whose deepe wounded mind 215 With love long time did languish as the striken hind.
XXV
At last it chaunced this proud Sarazin To meete me wandring, who perforce me led With him away, but yet could never win The Fort, that Ladies hold in soveraigne dread; 220 There lies he now with foule dishonour dead, Who whiles he livde, was called proud Sansfoy, The eldest of three brethren, all three bred Of one bad sire, whose youngest is Sansjoy; And twixt them both was born the bloudy bold Sansloy. 225