Chapter IV: Appendix: Stanzas Omitted in the Second Edition (1596) 517 (2)

The Lyon would not leaue her desolate, ix
But with her went along, as a strong gard
Of her chast person, and a faithfull mate
Of her sad troubles and misfortunes hard:
Still when she slept, he kept both watch and ward,
And when she wakt, he waited diligent,
With humble seruice to her will prepard:
From her faire eyes he tooke commaundement,
And euer by her lookes conceiued her intent.

Long she thus traueiled through deserts wyde, x
By which she thought her wandring knight shold pas,
Yet neuer shew of liuing wight espyde;
Till that at length she found the troden gras,
In which the tract of peoples footing was,
Vnder the steepe foot of a mountaine hore;
The same she followes, till at last she has
A damzell spyde slow footing her before,
That on her shoulders sad a pot of water bore.

To whom[113] approching she to her gan call, xi
To weet, if dwelling place were nigh at hand;
But the rude wench her answer’d nought at all,
She could not heare, nor speake, nor vnderstand;
Till seeing by her side the Lyon stand,
With suddaine feare her pitcher downe she threw,
And fled away: for neuer in that land
Face of faire Ladie she before did vew,
And that dread[114] Lyons looke her cast in deadly hew.

Full fast she fled, ne euer lookt behynd, xii
As if her life vpon the wager lay,
And home she came, whereas her mother blynd
Sate in eternall night: nought could she say,
But suddaine catching hold, did her dismay
With quaking hands, and other signes of feare:
Who full of ghastly fright and cold affray,
Gan shut the dore. By this arriued there
Dame _Vna_, wearie Dame, and entrance did requere.

Which when none yeelded, her vnruly Page xiii
With his rude clawes the wicket open rent,
And let her in; where of his cruell rage
Nigh dead with feare, and faint astonishment,
She found them both in darkesome corner pent;
Where that old woman day and night did pray
Vpon her beades deuoutly penitent;
Nine hundred _Pater nosters_ euery day,
And thrise nine hundred _Aues_ she was wont to say.

And to augment her painefull pennance[115] more, xiv
Thrise euery weeke in ashes she did sit,
And next her wrinkled skin rough sackcloth wore,
And thrise three times did fast from any bit:
But now for feare her beads she did forget.
Whose needlesse dread for to remoue away,
Faire _Vna_ framed words and count’nance fit:
Which hardly doen, at length she gan them pray,
That in their cotage small, that night she rest her may.

The day is spent, and commeth drowsie night, xv
When euery creature shrowded is in sleepe;
Sad _Vna_ downe her laies in wearie plight,
And at her feet the Lyon watch doth keepe:
In stead of rest, she does lament, and weepe
For the late losse of her deare loued knight,
And sighes, and grones, and euermore does steepe
Her tender brest in bitter teares all night,
All night she thinks too long, and often lookes for light.

Now when _Aldeboran_ was mounted hie xvi
Aboue the shynie _Cassiopeias_ chaire,
And all in deadly sleepe did drowned lie,
One knocked at the dore, and in would fare;
He knocked fast, and often curst, and sware,
That readie entrance was not at his call:
For on his backe a heauy load he bare
Of nightly stelths and pillage seuerall,
Which he had got abroad by purchase[116] criminall.

He was to weete a stout and sturdie thiefe, xvii
Wont to robbe Churches of their ornaments,
And poore mens boxes of their due reliefe,
Which giuen was to them for good intents;
The holy Saints of their rich vestiments
He did disrobe, when all men carelesse slept,
And spoild the Priests of their habiliments,
Whiles none the holy things in safety kept;
Then he by cunning[117] sleights in at the window crept.

And all that he by right or wrong could find, xviii
Vnto this house he brought, and did bestow
Vpon the daughter of this woman blind,
_Abessa_ daughter of _Corceca_ slow,
With whom he whoredome vsd, that few did know,
And fed her fat with feast of offerings,
And plentie, which in all the land did grow;
Ne spared he to giue her gold and rings:
And now he to her brought part of his stolen things.

Thus long the dore with rage and threats he bet, xix
Yet of those fearefull women none durst rize,
The Lyon frayed them, him in to let:
He would no longer stay him to aduize,
But open breakes the dore in furious wize,
And entring is; when that disdainfull beast
Encountring fierce, him suddaine doth surprize,
And seizing cruell clawes on trembling brest,
Vnder his Lordly foot him proudly hath supprest.

Him booteth not resist, nor succour call, xx
His bleeding hart is in the vengers hand,
Who streight him rent in thousand peeces small,
And quite dismembred hath: the thirstie land
Drunke[118] vp his life; his corse left on the strand.
His fearefull friends[119] weare out the wofull night,
Ne dare to weepe, nor seeme to vnderstand
The heauie hap, which on them is alight,
Affraid, least to themselues the like mishappen might.

Now when broad day the world discouered has, xxi
Vp _Vna_ rose, vp rose the Lyon eke,
And on their former iourney forward pas,
In wayes vnknowne, her wandring knight to seeke,
With paines farre passing that long wandring _Greeke_,
That for his loue refused deitie;
Such were the labours of this Lady meeke,
Still seeking him, that from her still did flie,
Then furthest from her hope, when most she weened nie.

Soone as she parted thence, the fearefull twaine, xxii
That blind old woman and her daughter deare
Came forth, and finding _Kirkrapine_ there slaine,
For anguish great they gan to rend their heare,
And beat their brests, and naked flesh to teare.
And when they both had wept and wayld their fill,
Then forth they ranne like two amazed deare,
Halfe mad through malice, and reuenging will,
To follow her, that was the causer of their ill.

Whom ouertaking, they gan loudly bray, xxiii
With hollow howling, and lamenting cry,
Shamefully at her rayling all the way,
And her accusing of dishonesty,
That was the flowre of faith and chastity;
And still amidst her rayling, she did pray,
That plagues, and mischiefs, and long misery
Might fall on her, and follow all the way,
And that in endlesse error she might euer stray.

But when she saw her prayers nought preuaile, xxiv
She backe returned with some labour lost;
And in the way as she did weepe and waile,
A knight her met in mighty armes embost,
Yet knight was not for all his bragging bost,
But subtill _Archimag_, that _Vna_ sought
By traynes into new troubles to haue tost:
Of that old woman tydings he besought,
If that of such a Ladie she could tellen ought.

Therewith she gan her passion to renew, xxv
And cry, and curse, and raile, and rend her heare,
Saying, that harlot she too lately knew,
That causd her shed so many a bitter teare,
And so forth told the story of her feare:
Much seemed he to mone her haplesse chaunce,
And after for that Ladie did inquere[120];
Which being taught, he forward gan aduaunce
His fair enchaunted steed, and eke his charmed launce.

Ere long he came, where _Vna_ traueild slow, xxvi
And that wilde Champion wayting her besyde:
Whom seeing such, for dread he durst not show
Himselfe too nigh at hand, but turned wyde
Vnto an hill; from whence when she him spyde,
By his like seeming shield, her knight by name
She weend it was, and towards him gan ryde:
Approching nigh, she wist it was the same,
And with faire fearefull humblesse towards him shee came.

And weeping said, Ah my long lacked Lord, xxvii
Where haue ye bene thus long out of my sight?
Much feared I to haue bene quite abhord,
Or ought haue done, that ye displeasen might,
That should as death vnto my deare hart light:
For since mine eye your ioyous sight did mis,
My chearefull day is turnd to chearelesse night,
And eke my night of death the shadow is;
But welcome now my light, and shining lampe of blis.

He thereto meeting said, My dearest Dame, xxviii
Farre be it from your thought, and fro my will,
To thinke that knighthood I so much should shame,
As you to leaue, that haue me loued still,
And chose in Faery court of meere goodwill,
Where noblest knights were to be found on earth:
The earth shall sooner leaue her kindly skill
To bring forth fruit, and make eternall derth,
Then I leaue you, my liefe, yborne of heauenly berth.

And sooth to say, why I left you so long, xxix
Was for to seeke aduenture in strange[121] place,
Where _Archimago_ said a felon strong
To many knights did daily worke disgrace;
But knight he now shall neuer more deface:
Good cause of mine excuse; that mote ye please
Well to accept, and euermore embrace
My faithfull seruice, that by land and seas
Haue vowd you to defend, now then your plaint appease.

His louely words her seemd due recompence xxx
Of all her passed paines: one louing howre
For many yeares of sorrow can dispence:
A dram of sweet is worth a pound of sowre:
She has forgot, how many a wofull stowre
For him she late endur’d; she speakes no more
Of past: true is, that true loue hath no powre
To looken backe; his eyes be fixt before.
Before her stands her knight, for whom she toyld so sore.

Much like, as when the beaten marinere, xxxi
That long hath wandred in the _Ocean_ wide,
Oft soust in swelling _Tethys_ saltish teare,
And long time hauing tand his tawney hide
With blustring breath of heauen, that none can bide,
And scorching flames of fierce _Orions_ hound,
Soone as the port from farre he has espide,
His chearefull whistle merrily doth sound,
And _Nereus_ crownes with cups; his mates him pledg around.

Such ioy made _Vna_, when her knight she found; xxxii
And eke th’enchaunter ioyous seemd no lesse,
Then the glad marchant, that does vew from ground
His ship farre come from watrie wildernesse,
He hurles out vowes, and _Neptune_ oft doth blesse:
So forth they past, and all the way they spent
Discoursing of her dreadfull late distresse,
In which he askt her, what the Lyon ment:
†Who told[122] her all that fell[123] in iourney as she went.

They had not ridden farre, when they might see xxxiii
One pricking towards them with hastie heat,
Full strongly armd, and on a courser free,
That through his fiercenesse fomed all with sweat,
And the sharpe yron did for anger eat,
When his hot ryder spurd his chauffed side;
His looke was sterne, and seemed still to threat
Cruell reuenge, which he in hart did hyde,
And on his shield _Sans loy_ in bloudie lines was dyde.

When nigh he drew vnto this gentle payre xxxiv
And saw the Red-crosse, which the knight did beare,
He burnt in fire, and gan eftsoones prepare
Himselfe to battell with his couched speare.
Loth was that other, and did faint through feare,[124]
To taste th’vntryed dint of deadly steele;
But yet his Lady did so well him cheare,
That hope of new good hap he gan to feele;
So bent his speare, and spurnd[125] his horse with yron heele.

But that proud Paynim forward came so fierce[126], xxxv
And full of wrath, that with his sharp-head speare
Through vainely crossed shield he quite did pierce[127],
And had his staggering steede not shrunke[128] for feare,
Through shield and bodie eke he should him beare:
Yet so great was the puissance of his push,
That from his saddle quite he did him beare:
He tombling rudely downe to ground did rush,
And from his gored wound a well of bloud did gush.

Dismounting lightly from his loftie steed, xxxvi
He to him lept, in mind to reaue his life,
And proudly said, Lo there the worthie meed
Of him, that slew _Sansfoy_ with bloudie knife;
Henceforth his ghost freed from repining strife,
In peace may passen ouer _Lethe_ lake,
When morning[129] altars purgd with enemies life,
The blacke infernall _Furies_ doen aslake:
Life from _Sansfoy_ thou tookst, _Sansloy_ shall from thee take.

Therewith in haste his helmet gan vnlace, xxxvii
Till _Vna_ cride, O hold that heauie hand,
Deare Sir, what euer that thou be in place:
Enough is, that thy foe doth vanquisht stand
Now at thy mercy: Mercie not withstand:
For he is one the truest knight aliue,
Though conquered now he lie on lowly land,
And whilest him fortune fauourd, faire did thriue
In bloudie field: therefore of life him not depriue.

Her piteous words might not abate his rage, xxxviii
But rudely rending vp his helmet, would
Haue slaine him straight[130]: but when he sees his age,
And hoarie head of _Archimago_ old,
His hastie hand he doth amazed hold,
And halfe ashamed, wondred at the sight:
For the[131] old man well knew he, though vntold,
In charmes and magicke to haue wondrous might,
Ne euer wont in field, ne in round lists to fight.

And said, Why _Archimago_, lucklesse syre, xxxix
What doe I see? what hard mishap is this,
That hath thee hither brought to taste mine yre?
Or thine the fault, or mine the error is,
In stead of foe to wound my friend amis?
He answered nought, but in a traunce still lay,
And on those guilefull dazed eyes of his
The cloud of death did sit. Which doen away,
He left him lying so, ne would no lenger stay.

But to the virgin comes, who all this while xl
Amased stands, her selfe so mockt to see
By him, who has the guerdon of his guile,
For so misfeigning her true knight to bee:
Yet is she now in more perplexitie,
Left in the hand of that same Paynim bold,
From whom her booteth not at all to flie;
Who by her cleanly garment catching hold,
Her from her Palfrey pluckt, her visage to behold.

But her fierce seruant full of kingly awe xli
And high disdaine, whenas his soueraine Dame
So rudely handled by her foe he sawe,
With gaping iawes full greedy at him came,
And ramping on his shield, did weene the same
Haue reft away with his sharpe rending clawes:
But he was stout, and lust did now inflame
His corage more, that from his griping pawes
He hath his shield redeem’d, and foorth[132] his swerd he drawes.

O then too weake and feeble was the forse xlii
Of saluage beast, his puissance to withstand:
For he was strong, and of so mightie corse,
As euer wielded speare in warlike hand,
And feates of armes did wisely vnderstand.
Eftsoones he perced through his chaufed chest
With thrilling point of deadly yron brand,
And launcht his Lordly hart: with death opprest
He roar’d aloud, whiles life forsooke his stubborne brest.

Who now is left to keepe the forlorne maid xliii
From raging spoile of lawlesse victors will?
Her faithfull gard remou’d, her hope dismaid,
Her selfe a yeelded pray to saue or spill.
He now Lord of the field[133], his pride to fill,
With foule reproches, and disdainfull spight
Her vildly entertaines, and will or nill,
Beares her away vpon his courser light:
Her prayers nought preuaile, his rage is more of might.

And all the way, with great lamenting paine, xliv
And piteous plaints she filleth his dull eares,
That stony hart could riuen haue in twaine,
And all the way she wets with flowing teares:
But he enrag’d with rancor, nothing heares.
Her seruile beast yet would not leaue her so,
But followes her farre off, ne ought he feares,
To be partaker of her wandring woe,
More mild in beastly kind, then that her beastly foe.

FOOTNOTES:

[109] i 5 brightne _1590_: brightnes _F. E._

[110] iii 6 wrought _1590_

[111] vii 1 field _1590_, _1596_

[112] 6 Lord _1590_, _1596_

[113] xi 1 Whom _1596_

[114] 9 dredd _1590_

[115] xiv 1 penaunce _1590_

[116] xvi 9 purchas _1590_

[117] xvii 9 conning _1590_

[118] xx 5 Dronke _1590_

[119] 6 freends _1590_

[120] xxv 7 inquire _1596_

[121] xxix 2 straunge _1590_

[122] xxxii 9 told, _1609_

[123] all that her fell _sugg. ed._

[124] xxxiv 5 feare,] fea, _1596_

[125] 9 spurd _1590_

[126] xxxv 1 ferce _1590_

[127] 3 perce _1590_

[128] 4 shronke _1590_

[129] xxxvi 7 mourning _1590_

[130] xxxviii 3 streight _1590_

[131] 7 the] that _F. E. referring probably to this line_

[132] xli 9 forth _1590_

[133] xliii 5 fied _1596_

_Cant. IIII._

_To sinfull house of Pride, Duessa
guides the faithfull knight,
Where brothers death to wreak Sansioy
doth chalenge him to fight._
]

Young knight, what euer that dost armes professe, i
And through long labours huntest after fame,
Beware of fraud, beware of ficklenesse,
In choice, and change of thy deare loued Dame,
Least thou of her beleeue too lightly blame,
And rash misweening doe thy hart remoue:
For vnto knight there is no greater shame,
Then lightnesse and inconstancie in loue;
That doth this _Redcrosse_ knights ensample plainly proue.

Who after that he had faire _Vna_ lorne, ii
Through light misdeeming of her loialtie,
And false _Duessa_ in her sted had borne,
Called _Fidess’_, and so supposd to bee;
Long with her traueild, till at last they see
A goodly building, brauely garnished,
The house of mightie Prince it seemd to bee:
And towards it a broad high way that led,
All bare through peoples feet, which thither traueiled.

Great troupes of people traueild thitherward iii
Both day and night, of each degree and place,
But few returned, hauing scaped hard,
With balefull beggerie, or foule disgrace,
Which euer after in most wretched case[134],
Like loathsome lazars, by the hedges lay.
Thither _Duessa_ bad him bend his pace:
For she is wearie of the toilesome way,
And also nigh consumed is the lingring day.

A stately Pallace built of squared bricke, iv
Which cunningly was without morter laid,
Whose wals were high, but nothing strong, nor thick,
And golden foile all ouer them displaid,
That purest skye with brightnesse they dismaid:
High lifted vp were many loftie towres,
And goodly galleries farre ouer laid,
Full of faire windowes, and delightfull bowres;
And on the top a Diall told the timely howres.

It was a goodly heape for to behould, v
And spake the praises of the workmans wit;
But full great pittie, that so faire a mould
Did on so weake foundation euer sit:
For on a sandie hill, that still did flit,
And fall away, it mounted was full hie,
That euery breath of heauen shaked it:
And all the hinder parts, that few could spie,
Were ruinous and old, but painted cunningly.

Arriued there they passed in forth right; vi
For still to all the gates stood open wide,
Yet charge of them was to a Porter hight
Cald _Maluenù_, who entrance none denide:
Thence to the hall, which was on euery side
With rich array and costly arras dight:
Infinite sorts of people did abide
There waiting long, to win the wished sight
Of her, that was the Lady of that Pallace bright.

By them they passe, all gazing on them round, vii
And to the Presence mount; whose glorious vew
Their frayle amazed senses did confound:
In liuing Princes court none euer knew
Such endlesse richesse, and so sumptuous[135] shew;
Ne _Persia_ selfe, the nourse of pompous pride
Like euer saw. And there a noble crew
Of Lordes and Ladies stood on euery side,
Which with their presence faire, the place much beautifide.

High aboue all a cloth of State was spred, viii
And a rich throne, as bright as sunny day,
On which there sate most braue embellished
With royall robes and gorgeous array,
A mayden Queene, that shone as _Titans_ ray,
In glistring gold, and peerelesse pretious stone:
Yet her bright blazing beautie did assay
To dim the brightnesse of her glorious throne,
As enuying her selfe, that too exceeding shone.

Exceeding shone, like _Phœbus_ fairest childe, ix
That did presume his fathers firie wayne,
And flaming mouthes of steedes vnwonted wilde
Through highest heauen with weaker hand to rayne;
Proud of such glory and aduancement vaine,
While flashing beames do daze his feeble eyen,
He leaues the welkin way most beaten plaine,
And rapt with whirling wheeles, inflames the skyen,
With fire not made to burne, but fairely for to shyne.

So proud she shyned in her Princely state, x
Looking to heauen; for earth she did disdayne,
And sitting high; for lowly she did hate:
Lo vnderneath her scornefull feete, was layne
A dreadfull Dragon with an hideous trayne,
And in her hand she held a mirrhour bright,
Wherein her face she often vewed fayne,
And in her selfe-lou’d semblance tooke delight;
For she was wondrous faire, as any liuing wight.

Of griesly _Pluto_ she the daughter was, xi
And sad _Proserpina_ the Queene of hell;
Yet did she thinke her pearelesse worth[136] to pas
That parentage, with pride so did she swell,
And thundring _Ioue_, that high in heauen doth dwell,
And wield the world, she claymed for her syre,
Or if that any else did _Ioue_ excell:
For to the highest she did still aspyre,
Or if ought higher were then that, did it desyre.

And proud _Lucifera_ men did her call, xii
That made her selfe a[137] Queene, and crownd to be,
Yet rightfull kingdome she had none at all,
Ne heritage of natiue soueraintie,
But did vsurpe with wrong and tyrannie
Vpon the scepter, which she now did hold:
Ne ruld her Realmes[138] with lawes, but pollicie,
And strong aduizement of six wisards old,
That with their counsels bad her kingdome did vphold.

Soone as the Elfin[139] knight in presence came, xiii
And false _Duessa_ seeming Lady faire,
A gentle Husher, _Vanitie_ by name
Made rowme, and passage for them did prepaire:
So goodly brought them to the lowest staire
Of her high throne, where they on humble knee
Making obeyssance[140], did the cause declare,
Why they were come, her royall state to see,
To proue the wide report of her great Maiestee.

With loftie eyes, halfe loth to looke so low, xiv
She thanked them in her disdainefull wise,
Ne other grace vouchsafed them to show
Of Princesse worthy, scarse them bad arise.
Her Lordes and Ladies all this while deuise
Themselues to setten forth to straungers sight:
Some frounce their curled haire in courtly guise,
Some prancke their ruffes, and others trimly dight
Their gay attire: each others greater pride does spight.

Goodly they all that knight do entertaine, xv
Right glad with him to haue increast their crew:
But to _Duess’_ each one himselfe did paine
All kindnesse and faire courtesie to shew;
For in that court whylome her well they knew:
Yet the stout Faerie monist the middest crowd
Thought all their glorie vaine in knightly vew,
And that great Princesse too exceeding prowd,
That to strange knight no better countenance allowd.

Suddein vpriseth from her stately place xvi
The royall Dame, and for her coche doth call:
All hurtlen[141] forth, and she with Princely pace,
As faire _Aurora_ in her purple pall,
Out of the East the dawning day doth call:
So forth she comes: her brightnesse brode doth blaze;
The heapes of people thronging in the hall,
Do ride each other, vpon her to gaze:
Her glorious glitterand[142] light doth all mens eyes amaze.

So forth she comes, and to her coche does clyme, xvii
Adorned all with gold, and girlonds gay,
That seemd as fresh as _Flora_ in her prime,
And stroue to match, in royall rich array,
Great _Iunoes_ golden chaire, the which they say
The Gods stand gazing on, when she does ride
To _Ioues_ high house through heauens bras-paued way
Drawne of faire Pecocks, that excell in pride,
And full of _Argus_ eyes their tailes dispredden wide.

But this was drawne of six vnequall beasts, xviii
On which her six sage Counsellours did ryde,
Taught to obay their bestiall beheasts,
With like conditions to their kinds applyde:
Of which the first, that all the rest did guyde,
Was sluggish _Idlenesse_ the nourse of sin;
Vpon a slouthfull Asse he chose to ryde,
Arayd in habit blacke, and amis thin,
Like to an holy Monck, the seruice to begin.

And in his hand his Portesse still he bare, xix
That much was worne, but therein little red,
For of deuotion he had little care,
Still drownd in sleepe, and most of his dayes ded;
Scarse could he once vphold his heauie hed,
To looken, whether it were night or day:
May seeme the wayne was very euill led,
When such an one had guiding of the way,
That knew not, whether right he went, or else astray.

From worldly cares himselfe he did esloyne, xx
And greatly shunned manly exercise,
From[143] euery worke he chalenged essoyne,
For contemplation sake: yet otherwise,
His life he led in lawlesse riotise;
By which he grew to grieuous malady;
For in his lustlesse limbs through euill guise
A shaking feuer raignd continually:
Such one was _Idlenesse_, first of this company.

And by his side rode loathsome _Gluttony_, xxi
Deformed creature, on a filthie swyne,
His belly was vp-blowne with luxury,
And eke with fatnesse swollen were his eyne,
And like a Crane his necke was long and fyne,
With which he swallowd vp excessiue feast,
For want whereof poore people oft did pyne;
And all the way, most like a brutish beast,
He spued vp his gorge, that all did him deteast.

In greene vine leaues he was right fitly clad; xxii
For other clothes he could not weare for heat,
And on his head an yuie girland had,
From vnder which fast trickled downe the sweat:
Still as he rode, he somewhat still did eat,
And in his hand did beare a bouzing can,
Of which he supt so oft, that on his seat
His dronken corse[144] he scarse vpholden can,
In shape and life more like a monster, then a man.

Vnfit he was for any worldly[145] thing, xxiii
And eke vnhable[146] once to stirre or go,
Not meet to be of counsell to a king,
Whose mind in meat and drinke was drowned so,
That from his friend he seldome[147] knew his fo:
Full of diseases was his carcas blew,
And a dry dropsie through his flesh did flow:
Which by misdiet daily greater grew:
Such one was _Gluttony_, the second of that crew.

And next to him rode lustfull _Lechery_, xxiv
Vpon a bearded Goat, whose rugged haire,
And whally eyes (the signe of gelosy,)
Was like the person selfe, whom he did beare:
Who rough, and blacke, and filthy did appeare,
Vnseemely man to please faire Ladies eye;
Yet he of Ladies oft was loued deare,
When fairer faces were bid standen by:
O who does know the bent of womens fantasy?

In a greene gowne he clothed was full faire, xxv
Which vnderneath did hide his filthinesse,
And in his hand a burning hart he bare,
Full of vaine follies, and new fanglenesse:
For he was false, and fraught with ficklenesse,
And learned had to loue with secret lookes,
And well could daunce, and sing with ruefulnesse,
And fortunes tell, and read in louing bookes,
And thousand other wayes, to bait his fleshly hookes.

Inconstant man, that loued all he saw, xxvi
And lusted after all, that he did loue,
Ne would his looser life be tide to law,
But ioyd weake wemens hearts to tempt[148] and proue
If from their loyall loues he might then moue;
Which lewdnesse fild him with reprochfull paine
Of that fowle euill, which all men reproue,
That rots the marrow, and consumes the braine:
Such one was _Lecherie_, the third of all this traine.

And greedy _Auarice_ by him did ride, xxvii
Vpon a Camell loaden all with gold;
Two iron coffers[149] hong on either side,
With precious mettall full, as they might hold,
And in his lap an heape of coine he told;
For of his wicked pelfe[150] his God he made,
And vnto hell him selfe for money sold;
Accursed vsurie was all his trade,
And right and wrong ylike in equall ballaunce waide.

His life was nigh vnto deaths doore yplast, xxviii
And thred-bare cote, and cobled shoes he ware,
Ne scarse good morsell all his life did tast,
But both from backe and belly still did spare,
To fill his bags, and richesse to compare;
Yet chylde ne kinsman liuing had he none
To leaue them to; but thorough daily care
To get, and nightly feare to lose his owne,
He led a wretched life vnto him selfe vnknowne.

Most wretched wight, whom nothing might suffise, xxix
Whose greedy lust did lacke in greatest store,
Whose need had end, but no end couetise,
Whose wealth was want, whose plenty made him pore,
Who had enough, yet wished euer more[151];
A vile disease, and eke in foote and hand
A grieuous gout tormented him full sore,
That well he could not touch, nor go, nor stand:
Such one was _Auarice_, the fourth[152] of this faire band.

And next to him malicious _Enuie_ rode, xxx
Vpon a rauenous wolfe, and still did chaw
Betweene his cankred teeth a venemous tode,
That all the poison ran about his chaw[153];
But inwardly he chawed his owne maw
At neighbours[154] wealth, that made him euer sad;
For death it was, when any good he saw,
And wept, that cause of weeping none he had,
But when he heard of harme, he wexed wondrous glad.

All in a kirtle of discolourd say xxxi
He clothed was, ypainted full of eyes;
And in his bosome secretly there lay
An hatefull Snake, the which his taile vptyes
In many folds, and mortall sting implyes.
Still as he rode, he gnasht his teeth, to see
Those heapes of gold with griple Couetyse,
And grudged at the great felicitie
Of proud _Lucifera_, and his owne companie.

He hated all good workes and vertuous deeds, xxxii
And him no lesse, that any like did vse,
And who with gracious bread the hungry feeds,
His almes for want of faith he doth accuse;
So euery good to bad he doth abuse:
And eke the verse of famous Poets witt
He does backebite, and spightfull poison spues
From leprous mouth on all, that euer writt:
Such one vile _Enuie_ was, that fifte[155] in row did sitt.

And him beside rides fierce reuenging _Wrath_, xxxiii
Vpon a Lion, loth for to be led;
And in his hand a burning brond he hath,
The which he brandisheth about his hed;
His eyes did hurle forth sparkles fiery red,
And stared sterne on all, that him beheld,
As ashes pale of hew and seeming ded;
And on his dagger still his hand he held,
Trembling through hasty rage, when choler in him sweld.

His ruffin raiment all was staind with blood, xxxiv
Which he had spilt, and all to rags yrent,
Through vnaduized rashnesse woxen wood;
For of his hands he had no gouernement,
Ne car’d for bloud in his auengement:
But when the furious fit was ouerpast,
His cruell facts he often would repent;
Yet wilfull man he neuer would forecast,
How many mischieues should ensue his heedlesse hast.

Full many mischiefes follow cruell _Wrath_; xxxv
Abhorred bloudshed, and tumultuous strife,
Vnmanly murder, and vnthrifty scath,
Bitter despight, with rancours rusty knife,
And fretting griefe the enemy of life;
All these, and many euils moe haunt ire,
The swelling Splene, and Frenzy raging rife,
The shaking Palsey, and Saint _Fraunces_ fire:
Such one was _Wrath_, the last of this vngodly tire.

And after all, vpon the wagon beame xxxvi
Rode _Sathan_[156], with a smarting whip in hand,
With which he forward lasht the laesie teme,
So oft as _Slowth_ still in the mire did stand.
Huge routs of people did about them band,
Showting for ioy, and still before their way
A foggy mist had couered all the land;
And vnderneath their feet, all scattered lay
Dead sculs and bones of men, whose life had gone astray.

So forth they marchen in this goodly sort, xxxvii
To take the solace of the open aire,
And in fresh flowring fields themselues to sport;
Emongst the rest rode that false Lady faire,
The fowle _Duessa_, next vnto the chaire
Of proud _Lucifera_[157], as one of the traine:
But that good knight would not so nigh repaire,
Him selfe estraunging from their ioyaunce vaine,
Whose fellowship seemd far vnfit for warlike swaine.

So hauing solaced themselues a space xxxviii
With pleasaunce of the breathing fields yfed,
They backe returned to the Princely Place;
Whereas an errant knight in armes ycled,
And heathnish shield, wherein with letters red
Was writ _Sans ioy_, they new arriued find:
Enflam’d with fury and fiers hardy-hed,
He seemd in hart to harbour thoughts vnkind,
And nourish bloudy vengeaunce in his bitter mind.

Who when the shamed shield of slaine _Sans foy_ xxxix
He spide with that same Faery champions page,
Bewraying him, that did of late destroy
His eldest brother, burning all with rage
He to him leapt, and that same enuious gage
Of victors glory from him snatcht away:
But th’Elfin knight, which ought that warlike wage,
Disdaind to loose[158] the meed he wonne in fray,
And him rencountring[159] fierce, reskewd the noble pray.

Therewith they gan to hurtlen[160] greedily, xl
Redoubted battaile ready to darrayne,
And clash their shields, and shake their swords[161] on hy,
That with their sturre they troubled all the traine;
Till that great Queene vpon eternall paine
Of high displeasure, that ensewen might,
Commaunded them their fury to refraine,
And if that either to that shield had right,
In equall lists they should the morrow next it fight.

Ah dearest Dame, (quoth then the Paynim bold,) xli
Pardon the errour[162] of enraged wight,
Whom great griefe made forget the raines to hold
Of reasons rule, to see this recreant[163] knight,
No knight, but treachour full of false despight
And shamefull treason, who through guile hath slayn
The prowest knight, that euer field did fight,
Euen stout _Sans foy_ (O who can then refrayn?)
Whose shield he beares renuerst[164], the more to heape disdayn.

And to augment the glorie of his guile, xlii
His dearest loue the faire _Fidessa_ loe
Is there possessed of the traytour vile,
Who reapes the haruest sowen by his foe,
Sowen in bloudy field, and bought with woe:
That brothers hand shall dearely well requight
So be, O Queene, you equall fauour showe.
Him litle answerd th’angry Elfin knight;
He neuer meant with words, but swords to plead his right.

But threw his gauntlet as a sacred pledge[165], xliii
His cause in combat the next day to try:
So been they parted both, with harts on edge[166],
To be aueng’d each on his enimy.
That night they pas in ioy and iollity,
Feasting and courting both in bowre and hall;
For Steward was excessiue _Gluttonie_,
That of his plenty poured forth to all;
Which doen, the Chamberlain _Slowth_ did to rest them call.

Now whenas darkesome night had all displayd xliv
Her coleblacke curtein ouer brightest skye,
The warlike youthes on dayntie couches layd,
Did chace away sweet sleepe from sluggish eye,
To muse on meanes of hoped victory.
But whenas _Morpheus_ had with leaden mace
Arrested all that courtly company,
Vp-rose _Duessa_ from her resting place,
And to the Paynims lodging comes with silent pace.

Whom broad awake she finds, in troublous fit, xlv
Forecasting, how his foe he might annoy,
And him amoues with speaches seeming fit:
Ah deare _Sans ioy_[167], next dearest to _Sans foy_,
Cause of my new griefe, cause of my new ioy[168],
Ioyous, to see his ymage in mine eye,
And greeu’d, to thinke how foe did him destroy,
That was the flowre of grace and cheualrye;
Lo his _Fidessa_ to thy secret faith I flye.

With gentle wordes he can her fairely greet, xlvi
And bad say on the secret[169] of her hart.
Then sighing soft, I learne that litle sweet
Oft tempred is (quoth she) with muchell smart:
For since my brest was launcht with louely dart
Of deare _Sansfoy_, I neuer ioyed howre,
But in eternall woes my weaker hart
Haue wasted, louing him with all my powre,
And for his sake haue felt full many an heauie stowre.

At last when perils all I weened past, xlvii
And hop’d to reape the crop of all my care,
Into new woes vnweeting I was cast,
By this false faytor, who vnworthy ware
His worthy shield, whom he with guilefull snare
Entrapped slew, and brought to shamefull graue.
Me silly maid away with him he bare,
And euer since hath kept in darksome caue,
For that I would not yeeld, that to _Sans-foy_ I gaue.

But since faire Sunne hath sperst that lowring clowd, xlviii
And to my loathed life now shewes some light,
Vnder your beames I will me safely shrowd,
From dreaded storme of his disdainfull spight:
To you th’inheritance belongs by right
Of brothers prayse, to you eke longs his loue.
Let not his loue, let not his restlesse spright
Be vnreueng’d, that calles to you aboue
From wandring _Stygian_ shores, where it doth endlesse moue.

Thereto said he, Faire[170] Dame be nought dismaid xlix
For sorrowes past; their griefe is with them gone:
Ne yet of present perill be affraid;
For needlesse feare did neuer vantage none,
And helplesse hap it booteth not to mone.
Dead is _Sans-foy_, his vitall paines are past,
Though greeued ghost for vengeance deepe do grone:
He liues, that shall him pay his dewties last,
And guiltie Elfin bloud shall sacrifice in hast.

O but I feare the fickle freakes (quoth shee) l
Of fortune false, and oddes of armes in field.
Why dame (quoth he) what oddes can euer bee,
Where both do fight alike, to win or yield?
Yea but (quoth she) he beares a charmed shield,
And eke enchaunted armes, that none can perce,
Ne none can wound the man, that does them wield.
Charmd or enchaunted (answerd he then ferce)
I no whit reck, ne you the like need to reherce.

But faire _Fidessa_, sithens fortunes guile, li
Or enimies powre hath now captiued you,
Returne from whence ye came, and rest a while
Till morrow next, that I the Elfe subdew,
And with _Sans-foyes_ dead dowry you endew.
Ay me, that is a double death (she said)
With proud foes sight my sorrow to renew:
Where euer yet I be, my secrete aid
Shall follow you. So passing forth she him obaid.

FOOTNOTES:

[134] iii 5 case] care _1590_: _corr. F. E._

[135] vii 5 sumpteous _1590_

[136] xi 3 wroth _1596_

[137] xii 2 a _om. 1596_

[138] 7 Realme _1590_

[139] xiii 1 Elfing _1596_

[140] 7 obeysaunce _1590_: obeisance _1609_

[141] xvi 3 hurtlen] hurlen _1609_

[142] 9 glitter and _1596_, _1609_

[143] xx 3 For _1596_, _1609_

[144] xxii 8 corse] course _1590_: _corr. F. E._

[145] xxiii 1 wordly _1590_

[146] 2 vnable _1609_

[147] 5 seeldome _1590_: sildom _1609_

[148] xxvi 4 tempt, _1590_

[149] xxvii 3 coffets _1590_

[150] 6 pelfe] pelpe _1590_: _corr. F. E._

[151] xxix 5 euermore _1609_

[152] 9 fourth] forth _1590_

[153] xxx 4 chaw] jaw _1609_

[154] 6 neibors _1590_

[155] xxxii 9 fifte] first _1590 &c._: _corr. F. E._

[156] xxxvi 2 _Satan_ _1609_

[157] xxxvii 6 _Lucifer’_ _1590_

[158] xxxix 8 lose _1609_

[159] 9 re’ncountring _1609_

[160] xl 1 hurlen _1609_

[161] 3 swerds _1590_

[162] xli 2 error _1590_

[163] 4 recreaunt _1590_

[164] 9 re’nverst _1609_

[165] xliii 1 pledg _1590_

[166] 3 edg _1590_

[167] xlv 4 _Sans ioy_] _Sans foy_ _1590_

[168] 5 cause of new ioy, _1590_, _1596_: _corr. F. E._

[169] xlvi 2 secrete _1590_

[170] xlix 1 faire _1590 &c._

_Cant. V._

_The faithfull knight in equall field
subdewes his faithlesse foe,
Whom false Duessa saues, and for
his cure to hell does goe._
]

The noble hart, that harbours vertuous thought, i
And is with child of glorious great intent,
Can neuer rest, vntill it forth haue brought
Th’eternall brood of glorie excellent:
Such restlesse passion did all night torment
The flaming corage of that Faery knight,
Deuizing, how that doughtie turnament
With greatest honour he atchieuen might;
Still did he[171] wake, and still did watch for dawning light.

At last the golden Orientall gate[172] ii
Of greatest heauen gan to open faire,
And Phœbus fresh, as bridegrome to his mate,
Came dauncing forth, shaking his deawie haire:
And hurld[173] his glistring beames through gloomy aire.
Which when the wakeful Elfe perceiu’d, streight way
He started vp, and did him selfe prepaire,
In sun-bright armes, and battailous array:
For with that Pagan proud he combat will that day.

And forth he comes into the commune[174] hall, iii
Where earely waite him many a gazing eye,
To weet what end to straunger knights may fall.
There many Minstrales maken melody,
To driue away the dull melancholy,
And many Bardes, that to the trembling chord
Can tune their timely voyces cunningly,
And many Chroniclers, that can record
Old loues, and warres for Ladies doen by many a Lord.

Soone after comes the cruell Sarazin, iv
In wouen maile all armed warily,
And sternly lookes at him, who not a pin
Does care for looke of liuing creatures eye.
They bring them wines of _Greece_ and _Araby_,
And daintie spices fetcht from furthest _Ynd_,
To kindle heat of corage priuily:
And in the wine a solemne oth they bynd
T’obserue the sacred lawes of armes, that are assynd.

At last forth comes that far renowmed Queene, v
With royall pomp and Princely maiestie;
She is ybrought vnto a paled greene,
And placed vnder stately canapee,
The warlike feates of both those knights to see.
On th’other side in all mens open vew
_Duessa_ placed is, and on a tree
_Sans-foy_ his shield is hangd with bloudy hew:
Both those the lawrell girlonds to the victor dew.

A shrilling trompet sownded from on hye, vi
And vnto battaill bad them selues addresse:
Their shining shieldes about their wrestes[175] they tye,
And burning blades about their heads do blesse,
The instruments of wrath and heauinesse:
With greedy force each other doth assayle,
And strike so fiercely, that they do impresse
Deepe dinted furrowes in the battred mayle;
The yron walles to ward their blowes are weake and fraile.

The Sarazin was stout, and wondrous strong, vii
And heaped blowes like yron hammers great:
For after bloud and vengeance he did long.
The knight was fiers, and full of youthly heat:
And doubled strokes, like dreaded thunders threat:
For all for prayse and honour he did fight.
Both stricken strike, and beaten both do beat,
That from their shields forth flyeth firie light,
And helmets hewen[176] deepe, shew marks of eithers might.

So th’one for wrong, the other striues for right: viii
As when a Gryfon seized of his pray,
A Dragon fiers encountreth in his flight,
Through widest ayre making his ydle way,
That would his rightfull rauine rend away:
With hideous horrour both together smight,
And souce so sore, that they the heauens affray:
The wise Southsayer seeing so sad sight,
Th’amazed vulgar tels of warres and mortall fight.

So th’one for wrong, the other striues for right, ix
And each to deadly shame would driue his foe:
The cruell steele so greedily doth bight
In tender flesh, that streames of bloud down flow,
With which the armes, that earst so bright did show[177],
Into a pure vermillion now are dyde:
Great ruth in all the gazers harts did grow,
Seeing the gored woundes to gape so wyde,
That victory they dare not wish to either side.

At last the Paynim chaunst to cast his eye, x
His suddein eye, flaming with wrathfull fyre,
Vpon his brothers shield, which hong thereby:
Therewith redoubled was his raging yre,
And said, Ah wretched sonne of wofull syre,
Doest[178] thou sit wayling by black _Stygian_ lake,
Whilest here thy shield is hangd for victors hyre,
And sluggish german doest thy forces slake,
To after-send his foe, that him may ouertake?

Goe caytiue Elfe, him quickly ouertake, xi
And soone redeeme from his long wandring woe;
Goe guiltie ghost, to him my message make,
That I his shield haue quit from dying foe.
Therewith vpon his crest he stroke him so,
That twise he reeled, readie twise to fall;
End of the doubtfull battell[179] deemed tho
The lookers on, and lowd to him gan call
The false _Duessa_, Thine the shield, and I, and all.

Soone as the Faerie heard his Ladie speake, xii
Out of his swowning dreame he gan awake,
And quickning faith, that earst was woxen weake,
The creeping deadly cold away did shake:
Tho mou’d with wrath, and shame, and Ladies sake,
Of all attonce he cast auengd to bee,
And with so’exceeding furie at him strake,
That forced him to stoupe[180] vpon his knee;
Had he not stouped so, he should haue clouen bee.

And to him said, Goe now proud Miscreant, xiii
Thy selfe thy message doe to german deare,
Alone he wandring thee too long doth want:
Goe say, his foe thy shield with his doth beare.
Therewith his heauie hand he high gan reare,
Him to haue slaine; when loe a darkesome clowd
Vpon him fell: he no where doth appeare,
But vanisht is. The Elfe him cals alowd,
But answer none receiues: the darknes him does shrowd.

In haste _Duessa_ from her place arose, xiv
And to him running said, O prowest knight,
That euer Ladie to her loue did chose,
Let now abate the terror[181] of your might,
And quench the flame of furious despight,
And bloudie vengeance; lo th’infernall powres
Couering your foe with cloud of deadly night,
Haue borne him hence to _Plutoes_ balefull bowres.
The conquest yours, I yours, the shield, and glory yours.

Not all so satisfide, with greedie eye xv
He sought all round about, his thirstie[182] blade
To bath[183] in bloud of faithlesse enemy;
Who all that while lay hid in secret shade:
He standes amazed, how he thence should fade.
At last the trumpets[184] Triumph sound on hie,
And running Heralds humble homage made,
Greeting him goodly with new victorie,
And to him brought the shield, the cause of enmitie.

Wherewith he goeth to that soueraine Queene, xvi
And falling her before on lowly knee,
To her makes present of his seruice seene:
Which she accepts, with thankes, and goodly gree,
Greatly aduauncing his gay cheualree.
So marcheth home, and by her takes the knight,
Whom all the people follow with great glee,
Shouting, and clapping all their hands on hight,
That all the aire it fils, and flyes to heauen bright.

Home is he brought, and laid in sumptuous bed: xvii
Where many skilfull leaches him abide,
To salue his hurts, that yet still freshly bled.
In wine and oyle they wash his woundes wide,
And softly can[185] embalme on euery side.
And all the while, most heauenly melody
About the bed sweet musicke did diuide,
Him to beguile of griefe and agony:
And all the while _Duessa_ wept full bitterly.

As when a wearie traueller[186] that strayes xviii
By muddy shore of broad seuen-mouthed _Nile_,
Vnweeting of the perillous wandring wayes,
Doth meet a cruell craftie Crocodile,
Which in false griefe hyding his harmefull guile,
Doth weepe full sore, and sheddeth tender teares:
The foolish man, that pitties all this while
His mournefull plight, is swallowd vp vnwares,
Forgetfull of his owne, that mindes anothers cares.

So wept _Duessa_ vntill euentide, xix
That shyning lampes in _Ioues_ high house were light:
Then forth she rose, ne lenger would abide,
But comes vnto the place, where th’Hethen knight
In slombring swownd[187] nigh voyd of vitall spright,
Lay couer’d with inchaunted cloud all day:
Whom when she found, as she him left in plight,
To wayle his woefull case she would not stay,
But to the easterne coast of heauen makes speedy way.

Where griesly _Night_, with visage deadly sad, xx
That _Phœbus_ chearefull face durst neuer vew,
And in a foule blacke pitchie mantle clad,
She findes forth comming from her darkesome mew,
Where she all day did hide her hated hew.
Before the dore her yron charet stood,
Alreadie harnessed for iourney new;
And coleblacke steedes yborne of hellish brood,
That on their rustie bits did champ, as they were wood.

Who when she saw _Duessa_ sunny bright, xxi
Adornd with gold and iewels shining cleare,
She greatly grew amazed at the sight,
And th’vnacquainted light began to feare:
For neuer did such brightnesse there appeare,
And would haue backe retyred to her caue,
Vntill the witches speech she gan to heare,
Saying, Yet[188] O thou dreaded Dame, I craue
Abide, till I haue told the message, which I haue.

She stayd, and foorth _Duessa_ gan proceede, xxii
O thou most auncient Grandmother of all,
More old then _Ioue_, whom thou at first didst breede,
Or that great house of Gods cælestiall,
Which wast begot in _Dæmogorgons_ hall,
And sawst the secrets of the world vnmade,
Why suffredst thou thy Nephewes deare to fall
With Elfin sword, most shamefully betrade?
Lo where the stout _Sansioy_ doth sleepe in deadly shade.

And him before, I saw with bitter eyes xxiii
The bold _Sansfoy_ shrinke vnderneath his speare;
And now the pray of fowles in field he lyes,
Nor wayld of friends, nor laid on groning beare,
That whylome was to me too dearely deare.
O what of Gods then boots it to be borne,
If old _Aveugles_ sonnes so euill heare?
Or who shall not great _Nightes_[189] children scorne,
When two of three her Nephews are so fowle forlorne.

Vp then, vp dreary Dame, of darknesse Queene, xxiv
Go gather vp the reliques of thy race,
Or else goe them auenge, and let be seene,
That dreaded _Night_ in brightest day hath place,
And can the children of faire light deface.
Her feeling speeches some compassion moued
In hart, and chaunge in that great mothers face:
Yet pittie in her hart was neuer proued
Till then: for[190] euermore she hated, neuer loued.

And said, Deare daughter rightly may I rew xxv
The fall of famous children borne of mee,
And good successes, which their foes ensew:
But who can turne the streame of destinee,
Or breake the chayne of strong necessitee,
Which fast is tyde to _Ioues_ eternall seat?
The sonnes of Day he fauoureth, I see,
And by my ruines thinkes to make them great:
To make one great by others losse, is bad excheat.

Yet shall they not escape so freely all; xxvi
For some shall pay the price of others guilt:
And he the man that made _Sansfoy_ to fall,
Shall with his owne bloud price that he hath spilt.
But what art thou, that telst of Nephews kilt?
I that do seeme not I, _Duessa_ am[191],
(Quoth she) how euer now in garments gilt,
And gorgeous gold arayd I to thee came;
_Duessa_ I, the daughter of Deceipt and Shame.

Then bowing downe her aged backe, she kist xxvii
The wicked witch, saying; In that faire face
The false resemblance of Deceipt, I wist
Did closely lurke; yet so true-seeming grace
It carried, that I scarse in darkesome place
Could it discerne, though I the mother bee
Of falshood[192], and root of _Duessaes_ race.
O welcome child, whom I haue longd to see,
And now haue seene vnwares. Lo now I go with thee.

Then to her yron wagon she betakes, xxviii
And with her beares the fowle welfauourd witch:
Through mirkesome aire her readie way she makes.
Her twyfold Teme, of which two blacke as pitch,
And two were browne, yet each to each vnlich,
Did softly swim away, ne euer stampe,
Vnlesse she chaunst their stubborne mouths to twitch;
Then foming tarre, their bridles they would champe,
And trampling the fine element, would fiercely rampe.

So well they sped, that they be come at length xxix
Vnto the place, whereas the Paynim lay,
Deuoid of outward sense, and natiue strength,
Couerd with charmed cloud from vew of day,
And sight of men, since his late luckelesse fray.
His cruell wounds with cruddy bloud congealed,
They binden vp so wisely, as they may,
And handle softly, till they can be healed:
So lay him in her charet, close in night concealed.

And all the while she stood vpon the ground, xxx
The wakefull dogs did neuer cease to bay,
As giuing warning of th’vnwonted sound,
With which her yron wheeles did them affray,
And her darke griesly looke them much dismay;
The messenger of death, the ghastly Owle
With drearie shriekes did also her bewray;
And hungry Wolues continually did howle,
At her abhorred face, so filthy and so fowle.

Thence turning backe in silence soft they stole, xxxi
And brought the heauie corse with easie pace
To yawning gulfe of deepe _Auernus_ hole.
By that same hole an entrance darke and bace
With smoake and sulphure hiding all the place,
Descends to hell: there creature neuer past,
That backe returned without heauenly grace;
But dreadfull _Furies_, which their chaines haue brast,
And damned sprights sent forth to make ill men aghast.