And mighty proud to humble weak does yield,
Forgetful of the hungry rage which late
Him prick'd, in pity of my sad estate:
But he, my lion, and my noble lord,
How does he find in cruel heart to hate
Her that him lov'd, and ever most ador'd,
As the God of my life? why hath he me abhorred?"
Redounding tears did choke th' end of her plaint,
Which softly echoed from the neighbour wood;
And, sad to see her sorrowful constraint,
The kingly beast upon her gazing stood;
With pity calm'd, down fell his angry mood.
At last, in close heart shutting up her pain,
Arose the virgin, born of heavenly blood,
And to her snowy palfrey got again,
To seek her strayed champion, if she might attain.
The lion would not leave her desolate,
But with her went along, as a strong guard
Of her chaste person, and a faithful mate
Of her sad troubles, and misfortunes hard.
Still, when she slept, he kept both watch and ward;
And, when she wak'd, he waited diligent,
With humble service to her will prepar'd:
From her fair eyes he took commandement,
And ever by her looks conceived her intent.
FAIRY QUEEN, Book I. Canto 5.
THE FAITHFUL KNIGHT HAVING KILLED THE SARACEN SANSFOY, DUESSA THE WITCH MAKES A JOURNEY TO THE INFERNAL REGIONS TO RECOVER THE BODY OF HER INFIDEL CHAMPION.
So wept Duessa until eventide,
That shining lamps in love's high house were light;
Then forth she rose, no longer would abide,
But comes unto the place where th' heathen knight,
In slumb'ring swoon'd, nigh void of vital sp❜rit,
Lay cover'd with enchanted cloud all day; :
Whom, when she found, as she him left in plight,
To wail his woeful case she would not stay,
But to the eastern coast of Heaven makes speedy way.
Where grisly Night, with visage deadly sad,
That Phoebus' cheerful face durst never view,
And in a foul black pitchy mantle clad,
She finds forthcoming from her darksome mew,
Where she all day did hide her hated hue.
Before the door her iron chariot stood,
Already harnessed for journey new;
And coal-black steeds, yborn of hellish blood,
That on their rusty bits did champ as they were wood.
So well they sped, that they be come at length
Unto the place whereas the Paynim lay,
Devoid of outward sense and native strength,
Covered, with charmed cloud, from view of day
And sight of men, since his late luckless fray.
His cruel wounds with cruddy blood congeal'd,
They binden up so wisely as they may,
And handle softly till they can be heal'd:
So lay him in her chari't, close in Night conceal'd.
And all the while she stood upon the ground,
The wakeful dogs did never cease to bay,
As giving warning of th' unwonted sound,
With which her iron wheels did them affray,
And her dark grisly look them much dismay';
The messenger of death, the ghastly owl,
With dreary shrieks did also her bewray;
And hungry wolves continually did howl
At her abhorred face, so filthy and so foul.
By that same way the direful dames do drive.
Their mournful chariot, fill'd with rusty blood,
And down to Pluto's house are come bilive1;
Which passing through, on every side them stood
The trembling ghosts, with sad amazed mood,
Chattering their iron teeth, and staring wide
With stony eyes; and all the hellish brood
Of fiends infernal flock'd on every side
To gaze on earthly wight, that with the Night durst ride.
FAIRY QUEEN, Book II. Canto 6.
A HARDER lesson to learn continence
In joyous pleasure than in grievous pain;
For sweetness doth allure the weaker sense
So strongly, that uneathes it can refrain
From that which feeble nature covets fain;
But grief and wrath, that be her enemies
And foes of life, she better can restrain:
Yet virtue vaunts in both her victories,
And Guyon in them all shews goodly masteries.
Whom bold Cymochles travelling to find,
With cruel purpose bent to wreak on him
The wrath which Atin kindled in his mind,
Came to a river, by whose utmost brim
Waiting to pass, he saw whereas did swim
Along the shore, as swift as glance of eye,
A little gondelay, bedecked trim
With boughs and arbours woven cunningly,
That like a little forest seemed outwardly;
And therein sate a lady fresh and fair,
Making sweet solace to herself alone;
Sometimes she sung as loud as lark in air,
Sometimes she laugh'd, that nigh her breath was
Yet was there not with her else any one,
That to her might move cause of merriment;
Matter of mirth enough, though there were none,
She could devise, and thousand ways invent To feel her foolish humour and vain jolliment.
Which when far off, Cymochles heard and saw,
He loudly called to such as were aboard
The little bark, unto the shore-to draw,
And him to ferry over that deep ford:
The merry mariner unto his word
Soon heark'ned, and her painted boat straightway
Turned to the shore, where that same warlike lord
She in received; but Atin by no way
She would admit, albe the knight her much did pray.
Eftsoons her shallow ship away did slide,
More swift than swallow sheers the liquid sky,
Withouten oar or pilot it to guide,
Or winged canvas with the wind to fly :
Only she turned a pin, and by and by
It cut away upon the yielding wave;
Ne cared she her course for to apply,
For it was taught the way which she would have,
And both from rocks and flats itself could wisely
And all the way the wanton damsel found
New mirth her passenger to entertain;
For she in pleasant purpose did abound,
And greatly joyed merry tales to feign,
Of which a store-house did with her remain,
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