XVIII
The force which wont in two to be disperst, In one alone left hand° he now unites, 155 Which is through rage more strong than both were erst; With which his hideous club aloft he dites, And at his foe with furious rigour smites, That strongest Oake might seeme to overthrow: The stroke upon his shield so heavie lites, 160 That to the ground it doubleth him full low: What mortall wight could ever beare so monstrous blow?
XIX
And in his fall his shield,° that covered was, Did loose his vele by chaunce, and open flew: The light whereof, that heavens light did pas, 165 Such blazing brightnesse through the aier threw, That eye mote not the same endure to vew. Which when the Gyaunt spyde with staring eye, He downe let fall his arme, and soft withdrew His weapon huge, that heaved was on hye 170 For to have slaine the man, that on the ground did lye.
XX
And eke the fruitfull-headed beast, amazd At flashing beames of that sunshiny shield, Became starke blind, and all his sences daz'd, That downe he tumbled on the durtie field, 175 And seem'd himselfe as conquered to yield. Whom when his maistresse proud perceiv'd to fall, Whiles yet his feeble feet for faintnesse reeld, Unto the Gyant loudly she gan call, O helpe Orgoglio, helpe, or else we perish all. 180
XXI
At her so pitteous cry was much amoov'd Her champion stout, and for to ayde his frend, Againe his wonted angry weapon proov'd: But all in vaine: for he has read his end In that bright shield, and all their forces spend 185 Themselves in vaine: for since that glauncing sight, He had no powre to hurt, nor to defend; As where th' Almighties lightning brond does light, It dimmes the dazed eyen, and daunts the senses quight.
XXII
Whom when the Prince, to battell new addrest, 190 And threatning high his dreadfull stroke did see, His sparkling blade about his head he blest, And smote off quite his right leg by the knee, That downe he tombled; as an aged tree, High growing on the top of rocky clift, 195 Whose hartstrings with keene steele nigh hewen be, The mightie trunck halfe rent, with ragged rift Doth roll adowne the rocks, and fall with fearefull drift.
XXIII
Or as a Castle reared high and round, By subtile engins and malitious slight 200 Is undermined from the lowest ground, And her foundation forst, and feebled quight, At last downe falles, and with her heaped hight Her hastie ruine does more heavie make, And yields it selfe unto the victours might; 205 Such was this Gyants fall, that seemd to shake The stedfast globe of earth, as it for feare did quake.
XXIV
The knight then lightly leaping to the pray, With mortall steele him smot againe so sore, That headlesse his unweldy bodie lay, 210 All wallowd in his owne fowle bloudy gore, Which flowed from his wounds in wondrous store. But soone as breath out of his breast did pas, That huge great body, which the Gyaunt bore, Was vanisht quite, and of that monstrous mas 215 Was nothing left, but like an emptie bladder was.
XXV
Whose grievous fall, when false Duessa spide, Her golden cup she cast unto the ground, And crowned mitre rudely threw aside; Such percing griefe her stubborne hart did wound, 220 That she could not endure that dolefull stound, But leaving all behind her, fled away; The light-foot Squire her quickly turnd around, And by hard meanes enforcing her to stay, So brought unto his Lord, as his deserved pray. 225
XXVI
The royall Virgin which beheld from farre, In pensive plight, and sad perplexitie, The whole atchievement of this doubtfull warre, Came running fast to greet his victorie, With sober gladnesse, and myld modestie, 230 And with sweet joyous cheare him thus bespake: Faire braunch of noblesse, flowre of chevalrie, That with your worth the world amazed make, How shall I quite the paines ye suffer for my sake?
XXVII
And you fresh budd of vertue springing fast, 235 Whom these sad eyes saw nigh unto deaths dore, What hath poore Virgin for such perill past Wherewith you to reward? Accept therefore My simple selfe, and service evermore; And he that high does sit, and all things see 240 With equall eyes, their merites to restore, Behold what ye this day have done for mee, And what I cannot quite, requite with usuree.
XXVIII
But sith the heavens, and your faire handeling Have made you master of the field this day, 245 Your fortune maister° eke with governing, And well begun end all so well, I pray. Ne let that wicked woman scape away; For she it is, that did my Lord bethrall, My dearest Lord, and deepe in dongeon lay, 250 Where he his better dayes hath wasted all. O heare, how piteous he to you for ayd does call.
XXIX
Forthwith he gave in charge unto his Squire, That scarlot whore to keepen carefully; Whiles he himselfe with greedie great desire 255 Into the Castle entred forcibly, Where living creature none he did espye; Then gan he lowdly through the house to call: But no man car'd to answere to his crye. There raignd a solemne silence over all, 260 Nor voice was heard, nor wight was seene in bowre or hall.
XXX
At last with creeping crooked pace forth came An old old man, with beard as white as snow, That on a staffe his feeble steps did frame, And guide his wearie gate both to and fro: 265 For his eye sight him failed long ygo, And on his arme a bounch of keyes he bore, The which unused rust° did overgrow: Those were the keyes of every inner dore, But he could not them use, but kept them still in store. 270
XXXI
But very uncouth sight was to behold, How he did fashion his untoward pace, For as he forward moov'd his footing old, So backward still was turnd his wrincled face, Unlike to men, who ever as they trace, 275 Both feet and face one way are wont to lead. This was the auncient keeper of that place, And foster father of the Gyant dead; His name Ignaro did his nature right aread.
XXXII
His reverend haires and holy gravitie 280 The knight much honord, as beseemed well, And gently askt, where all the people bee, Which in that stately building wont to dwell. Who answerd him full soft, he could not tell. Again he askt, where that same knight was layd, 285 Whom great Orgoglio with his puissance fell Had made his caytive thrall, againe he sayde, He could not tell: ne ever other answere made.
XXXIII
Then asked he, which way he in might pas: He could not tell, againe he answered. 290 Thereat the curteous knight displeased was, And said, Old sire, it seemes thou hast not red How ill it sits with that same silver hed, In vaine to mocke, or mockt in vaine to bee: But if thou be, as thou art pourtrahed 295 With natures pen,° in ages grave degree, Aread in graver wise, what I demaund of thee.
XXXIV
His answere likewise was, he could not tell. Whose sencelesse speach, and doted ignorance When as the noble Prince had marked well, 300 He ghest his nature by his countenance, And calmd his wrath with goodly temperance. Then to him stepping, from his arme did reach Those keyes, and made himselfe free enterance. Each dore he opened without any breach; 305 There was no barre to stop, nor foe him to empeach.
XXXV
There all within full rich arrayd he found, With royall arras and resplendent gold. And did with store of every thing abound, That greatest Princes° presence might behold. 310 But all the floore (too filthy to be told) With bloud of guiltlesse babes, and innocents trew,° Which there were slaine, as sheepe out of the fold, Defiled was, that dreadfull was to vew, And sacred ashes over it was strowed new.° 315
XXXVI
And there beside of marble stone was built An Altare,° carv'd with cunning ymagery, On which true Christians bloud was often spilt, And holy Martyrs often doen to dye, With cruell malice and strong tyranny: 320 Whose blessed sprites from underneath the stone To God for vengeance cryde continually, And with great griefe were often heard to grone, That hardest heart would bleede, to hear their piteous mone.