XLII
And drawing nigh him said, Ah misborne Elfe, 365 In evill houre thy foes thee hither sent, Anothers wrongs to wreake upon thy selfe: Yet ill thou blamest me, for having blent My name with guile and traiterous intent: That Redcrosse knight, perdie, I never slew, 370 But had he beene, where earst his arms were lent,° Th' enchaunter vaine° his errour should not rew: But thou his errour shalt,° I hope, now proven trew.
XLIII
Therewith they gan, both furious and fell, To thunder blowes, and fiersly to assaile 375 Each other bent his enimy to quell, That with their force they perst both plate and maile, And made wide furrowes in their fleshes fraile, That it would pitty any living eie. Large floods of bloud adowne their sides did raile; 380 But floods of bloud could not them satisfie: Both hungred after death: both chose to win, or die.
XLIV
So long they fight, and fell revenge pursue, That fainting each, themselves to breathen let, And oft refreshed, battell oft renue: 385 As when two Bores with rancling malice met,° Their gory sides fresh bleeding fiercely fret, Til breathlesse both them selves aside retire, Where foming wrath, their cruell tuskes they whet, And trample th' earth, the whiles they may respire; 390 Then backe to fight againe, new breathed and entire.
XLV
So fiersly, when these knights had breathed once, They gan to fight returne, increasing more Their puissant force, and cruell rage attonce. With heaped strokes more hugely then before, 395 That with their drerie wounds and bloudy gore They both deformed, scarsely could be known. By this, sad Una fraught with anguish sore, Led with their noise, which through the aire was thrown: Arriv'd, wher they in erth their fruitles bloud had sown. 400
XLVI
Whom all so soone as that proud Sarazin Espide, he gan revive the memory Of his lewd lusts, and late attempted sin, And left the doubtfull battell hastily, To catch her, newly offred to his eie: 405 But Satyrane with strokes him turning, staid, And sternely bad him other businesse plie, Then hunt the steps of pure unspotted Maid: Wherewith he all enrag'd, these bitter speaches said.
XLVII
O foolish faeries son, what fury mad 410 Hath thee incenst, to hast thy doefull fate? Were it not better I that Lady had, Then that thou hadst repented it too late? Most senseless man he, that himselfe doth hate To love another. Lo then for thine ayd 415 Here take thy lovers token on thy pate.° So they two fight; the whiles the royall Mayd Fledd farre away, of that proud Paynim sore afrayd.
XLVIII
But that false Pilgrim, which that leasing told, Being in deed old Archimage, did stay 420 In secret shadow, all this to behold, And much rejoiced in their bloudy fray: But when he saw the Damsell passe away, He left his stond, and her pursewd apace, In hope to bring her to her last decay,° 425 But for to tell her lamentable cace,° And eke this battels end, will need another place.
* * * * *
CANTO VII
The Redcrosse knight is captive made by Gyaunt proud opprest, Prince Arthur meets with Una great- ly with those newes distrest.
I
What man so wise, what earthly wit so ware, As to discry the crafty cunning traine, By which deceipt doth maske in visour faire, And cast her colours dyed deepe in graine, To seeme like Truth, whose shape she well can faine, 5 And fitting gestures to her purpose frame; The guiltlesse man with guile to entertaine? Great maistresse of her art was that false Dame, The false Duessa, cloked with Fidessaes name.
II
Who when returning from the drery Night, 10 She fownd not in that perilous house of Pryde, Where she had left, the noble Redcrosse knight, Her hoped pray; she would no lenger bide, But forth she went, to seeke him far and wide. Ere long she fownd, whereas he wearie sate 15 To rest him selfe, foreby a fountaine side, Disarmed all of yron-coted Plate, And by his side his steed the grassy forage ate.
III
He feedes upon° the cooling shade, and bayes His sweatie forehead in the breathing wind, 20 Which through the trembling leaves full gently playes, Wherein the cherefull birds of sundry kind Do chaunt sweet musick, to delight his mind: The Witch approaching gan him fairely greet, And with reproch of carelesnesse unkind 25 Upbrayd, for leaving her in place unmeet, With fowle words tempring faire, soure gall with hony sweet.
IV
Unkindnesse past, they gan of solace treat, And bathe in pleasaunce of the joyous shade, Which shielded them against the boyling heat, 30 And with greene boughes decking a gloomy glade, About the fountaine like a girlond made; Whose bubbling wave did ever freshly well, Ne ever would through fervent sommer fade: The sacred Nymph, which therein wont to dwell, 35 Was out of Dianes favour, as it then befell.
V
The cause was this: One day, when Phoebe° fayre With all her band was following the chace, This Nymph, quite tyr'd with heat of scorching ayre, Sat downe to rest in middest of the race: 40 The goddesse wroth gan fowly her disgrace, And bad the waters, which from her did flow, Be such as she her selfe was then in place. Thenceforth her waters waxed dull and slow, And all that drinke thereof do faint and feeble grow.° 45
VI
Hereof this gentle knight unweeting was, And lying downe upon the sandie graile, Drunke of the streame, as cleare as cristall glas: Eftsoones his manly forces gan to faile, And mightie strong was turned to feeble fraile. 50 His chaunged powres at first them selves not felt, Till crudled cold his corage gan assaile, And cheareful bloud in faintnesse chill did melt, Which like a fever fit through all his body swelt.
VII
Yet goodly court he made still to his Dame, 55 Pourd° out in loosnesse on the grassy grownd, Both carelesse of his health, and of his fame: Till at the last he heard a dreadfull sownd, Which through the wood loud bellowing did rebownd, That all the earth for terrour seemd to shake, 60 And trees did tremble. Th' Elfe therewith astownd, Upstarted lightly from his looser make,° And his unready weapons gan in hand to take.
VIII
But ere he could his armour on him dight, Or get his shield, his monstrous enimy 65 With sturdie steps came stalking in his sight, An hideous Geant,° horrible and hye, That with his tallnesse seemd to threat the skye, The ground eke groned under him for dreed; His living like saw never living eye, 70 Ne durst behold: his stature did exceed The hight of three the tallest sonnes of mortall seed.
IX
The greatest Earth his uncouth mother was, And blustering Æolus his boasted syre, * * * * * Brought forth this monstrous masse of earthly slime 75 Puft up with emptie wind, and fild with sinfull crime.
X
So growen great through arrogant delight Of th' high descent, whereof he was yborne, And through presumption of his matchlesse might, All other powres and knighthood he did scorne. 80 Such now he marcheth to this man forlorne, And left to losse: his stalking steps are stayde Upon a snaggy Oke, which he had torne Out of his mothers bowelles, and it made His mortall mace, wherewith his foeman he dismayde. 85
XI
That when the knight he spide, he gan advance With huge force and insupportable mayne, And towardes him with dreadfull fury praunce; Who haplesse, and eke hopelesse, all in vaine Did to him pace, sad battaile to darrayne, 90 Disarmd, disgrast, and inwardly dismayde, And eke so faint in every joynt and vaine, Through that fraile fountaine, which him feeble made, That scarsely could he weeld his bootlesse single blade.
XII
The Geaunt strooke so maynly mercilesse, 95 That could have overthrowne a stony towre, And were not heavenly grace, that did him blesse, He had beene pouldred all, as thin as flowre: But he was wary of that deadly stowre, And lightly lept from underneath the blow: 100 Yet so exceeding was the villeins powre, That with the wind it did him overthrow, And all his sences stound, that still he lay full low.