Then, bowing down her aged back, she kissed
The wicked witch, saying, "In that fair face
The false resemblaunce of Deceit, I wist,1
Did closely lurk; yet so true-seeming grace
It carried that I scarce in darksome place
Could it discern, though I the mother be
Of Falsehood, and root of Duessa's race.
O welcome, child, whom I have longed to see,
And now have seen unwares ! Lo! now I go with thee."
Then to her iron waggon she betakes,
And with her bears the foul well-favoured witch.
Through mirksome air her ready way she makes :
Her twyfold team, of which two black as pitch,
And two were brown, yet each to each unlich,2
Did softly swim away, ne ever stamp,
Unless she chaunced their stubborn mouths to twitch;
Then, foaming tar, their bridles they would champ,
And, trampling the fine element, would fiercely ramp.
So well they sped that they be come at length
Unto the place whereas3 the Paynim lay,1
Devoid of outward sense and native strength,
Covered with charmèd cloud from view of day,
And sight of men, since his late luckless fray.
His cruel wounds, with cruddy blood congealed,
They binden up so wisely as they may,
And handle softly, till they can be healed:
So lay him in her chariot, close in night concealed.
And, all the while she stood upon the ground,
The wakeful dogs did never cease to bay,
As giving warning of the unwonted sound
With which her iron wheels did them affray,
And her dark griesly look them much dismay :
The messenger of death, the ghastly owl,
With dreary shrieks did also her bewray,5
And hungry wolves continually did howl
At her abhorred face, so filthy and so fowl.
Thence, turning back in silence soft, they stole ;
And brought the heavy corse with easy pace
To yawning gulf of deep Avernus' hole.
By that same hole, an entrance dark and base,
With smoke and sulphur hiding all the place,
4 Sanfoy. 5 Betray her
Descends to Hell there creature never passed
That back returnèd without heavenly grace;
But dreadful furies, which their chains have brast,1
And damned sprights, sent forth to make ill men aghast.
By that same way the direful dames do drive
Their mournful chariot filled with rusty blood,
And down to Pluto's house are come belive :2
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 flocked on every side,
To gaze on earthly wight that with the Night durst ride.
Book I. Canto V.
The wild wood-gods, arrived in the place,
There find the virgin, doleful, desolate,
With ruffled raiments and fair blubbered face,
As her outrageous foe had left her late,
And trembling yet through fear of former hate.
All stand amazed at so uncouth sight,
And gin to pity her unhappy state;
All stand astonied3 at her beauty bright,
In their rude eyes unworthy of so woeful plight.
She, more amazed, in double dread doth dwell;
And every tender part for fear does shake.
As, when a greedy wolf, through hunger fell,1
A seely lamb far from the flock does take,
Of whom he means his bloody feast to make,
A Lion spies fast running towards him,
The innocent prey in haste he does forsake;
Which, quit from death, yet quakes in every limb
With change of fear to see the Lion look so grim:
Such fearful fit assayed her trembling heart,
Ne word to speak, ne joint to move she had:
The salvage nation feel her secret smart,
And read her sorrow in her countenance sad :
Their frowning foreheads with rough horns yclad,
1 Burst asunder. 2 Forthwith. 3 Astonished. 4 Fierce. 5 Simple. 6 Savage.
And rustic horror, all aside do lay;
And, gently grinning, show a semblance glad
To comfort her; and, fear to put away,
Their backward bent knees teach her humbly to obey.
The doubtful damsel dare not yet commit
Her single person to their barbarous truth;
But still twixt fear and hope amazed does sit,
Late learned1 what harm to hasty trust ensu'th.
They, in compassion of her tender youth,
And wonder of her beauty soverain,
Are won with pity and unwonted ruth;
And, all prostrate upon the lowly plain,
Do kiss her feet, and fawn on her with countenance fain.
Their hearts she guesseth by their humble guise, And yields her to extremity of time.
So from the ground she fearless doth arise,
And walketh forth without suspéct of crime.
They, all as glad as birds of joyous Prime,2
Thence lead her forth, about her dancing round,
Shouting and singing all a shepherd's rhyme;
And, with green branches strowing all the ground,
Do worship her as Queen with olive garland crowned.
And all the way their merry pipes they sound,
That all the woods with doubled echo ring;
And with their hornèd feet do wear the ground,
Leaping like wanton kids in pleasant Spring.
So to-wards old Sylvanus they her bring;
Who, with the noise awakèd, cometh out
To weet3 the cause, his weak steps governing,
And aged limbs, on cypress stadle stout;
And with an ivy-twine his waist is girt about.
Book I. Canto VI.
At last she chancèd by good hap to meet
A goodly knight, fair marching by the way,
Together with his squire arrayèd meet :
His glitterand armour shinèd far away,
Like glauncing light of Phoebus' brightest ray;
From top to toe no place appeared bare,
That deadly dint of steel endanger may.
Athwart his breast a bauldric brave he ware,1
That shined, like twinkling stars, with stones most
precious rare.
And in the midst thereof one precious stone
Of wondrous worth, and eke of wondrous mights,
Shaped like a Lady's head, exceeding shone,
Like Hesperus amongst the lesser lights,
And strove for to amaze the weaker sights:
Thereby his mortal blade full comely hong3
In ivory sheath, ycarved with curious slights,*
Whose hilts were burnished gold, and handle strong
Of mother pearl; and buckled with a golden tong.5
His haughty helmet, horrid all with gold,
Both glorious brightness and great terror bred :
For all the crest a Dragon did enfold
With greedy paws, and over all did spread
His golden wings: his dreadful hideous head,
Close couched on the beaver, seemed to throw
From flaming mouth bright sparkles fiery red,
That sudden horror to faint hearts did show;
And scaly tail was stretched adown his back full low.
Upon the top of all his lofty crest,
A bunch of hairs, discoloured diversely,
With sprinkled pearl and gold full richly drest,
Did shake, and seemed to dance for jollity,
Like to an almond tree ymounted high
On top of green Selinis9 all alone,
With blossoms brave bedeckèd daintily :
Whose tender locks do tremble every one
At every little breath that under heaven is blown.
Ere long they come where that same wicked wight 10
His dwelling has, low in an hollow Cave,
For-underneath 11 a craggy cliff ypight,12
Dark, doleful, dreary, like a greedy grave,
That still for carrion carcases doth crave:
2 This was a likeness of the mighty Gloriana, Queen of Faery-land, whom Prince Arthur sérved.
5 Tongue, strap.
8 Variously coloured.
6 Rough. 9 Probably Selinus in Sicily. 10 Creature, Despair. 11 Quite under. 12 Placed.
On top whereof aye dwelt the ghastly owl,
Shrieking his baleful note, which ever drave
Far from that haunt all other cheerful fowl;
And all about it wandering ghosts did wail and howl.
And all about old stocks and stubs of trees,
Whereon nor fruit nor leaf was ever seen,
Did hang upon the ragged rocky knees;
On which had many wretches hangèd been,
Whose carcases were scattered on the green,
And thrown about the cliffs. Arrivèd there,
That bare-head knight, for dread and doleful teen,1
Would fain have fled, ne durst approachen near;
But the other forced him stay, and comforted in fear.
That darksome Cave they enter, where they find That cursed man, low sitting on the ground, Musing full sadly in his sullen mind:
His griesy2 locks, long growen and unbound,
Disordered hung about his shoulders round,
And hid his face, through which his hollow eyn
Looked deadly dull, and stared as astound;3
His raw-bone cheeks, through penury and pine,*
Were shrunk into his jaws, as he did never dine.
His garment, nought but many ragged clouts,
With thorns together pinned and patched was,
The which his naked sides he wrapt abouts;
And him beside there lay upon the grass
A dreary corse, whose life away did pass,
All wallowed in his own yet luke-warm blood,
That from his wound yet wellèd fresh, alas !
In which a rusty knife fast fixed stood,
And made an open passage for the gushing flood. Book I. Canto IX.
And is there care in heaven? And is there love
In heavenly spirits to these creatures base,
That may compassion of their evils move?
There is: else much more wretched were the case
Of men than beasts. But O! the exceeding grace
Of highest God that loves his creatures so,
And all his works with mercy doth embrace,
4 Grief.
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