XXIV.

Thus ill bestedd, and fearefull more of shame
Then of the certeine perill he stood in,
Halfe furious unto his foe he came,

255

Resolved in minde all suddenly to win,

Or soone to lose, before he once would lin;

And stroke at her with more then manly force,
That from her body, full of filthie sin,

He raft her hatefull heade without remorse:

260

A streame of cole-black blood forth gushed from her

corse.

XXVII.

His Lady seeing all that chaunst, from farre,
Approcht in hast to greet his victorie;

290

And saide, "Faire Knight, borne under happie

starre,

Who see your vanquisht foes before you lye;

Well worthie be you of that armory,

Wherein ye have great glory wonne this day,

And proov'd your strength on a strong enimie; 295 Your first adventure: Many such I pray,

And henceforth ever wish that like succeed it may!”

[Having re-mounted his steed, the Red-Cross Knight and Una at length meet in the forest an "aged sire" clad in black, having a gray beard and a sober aspect. The Knight, having saluted him, is conducted to a hermitage on the skirts of the forest, where the old man tells him in pleasing words about Saints and popes: so they pass the evening in discourse.]

XXXVI.

The drouping night thus creepeth on them fast;
And the sad humor loading their eyeliddes,
As messenger of Morpheus, on them cast

380

Sweet slombring deaw, the which to sleep them biddes.

385

Unto their lodgings then his guestes he riddes: Where when all drownd in deadly sleepe he findes, He to his studie goes; and there amiddes His magick bookes, and artes of sundrie kindes, He seekes out mighty charmes to trouble sleepy minds.

XXXVII.

Then choosing out few words most horrible, (Let none them read!) thereof did verses frame; With which, and other spelles like terrible, He bad awake blacke Plutoes griesly dame; And cursed heven; and spake reprochful shame Of highest God, the Lord of life and light. A bold bad man! that dar'd to call by name Great Gorgon, prince of darknes and dead night; At which Cocytus quakes, and Styx is put to flight.

390

394

XXXVIII.

And forth he cald out of deepe darknes dredd
Legions of sprights, the which, like litle flyes,
Fluttring about his ever-damned hedd,
Awaite whereto their service he applyes,
To aide his friendes, or fray his enimies:
Of those he chose out two, the falsest twoo,
And fittest for to forge true-seeming lyes;
The one of them he gave a message too,

400

The other by him selfe staide other worke to doo. 405

XXXIX.

He, making speedy way through spersed ayre,
And through the world of waters wide and deep
To Morpheus house doth hastily repaire.
Amid the bowels of the earth full steepe,
And low, where dawning day doth never peepe,
His dwelling is; there Tethys his wet bed
Doth ever wash, and Cynthia still doth steepe
In silver deaw his ever-drouping hed,

Whiles sad Night over him her mantle black d spred.

XL.

Whose double gates he findeth locked fast;
The one faire fram'd of burnisht yvory,
The other all with silver overcast;

And wakeful dogges before them farre doe lye,
Watching to banish Care their enimy,
Who oft is wont to trouble gentle Sleepe.
By them the Sprite doth passe in quietly,

And unto Morpheus comes, whom drowned deepe In drowsie fit he findes; of nothing he takes keepe.

XLI.

4

And, more to lulle him in his slumber soft,
A trickling streame from high rock tumbling dow
And ever-drizling raine upon the loft,

Mixt with a murmuring winde, much like the sow
Of swarming bees, did caste him in a swowne.
No other noyse, nor peoples troublous cryes,
As still are wont t' annoy the walled towne,
Might there be heard; but carelesse Quiet lyes,

Wrapt in eternall silence farre from enimyes.

4

XLII.

434

The messenger approching to him spake;
But his waste words retournd to him in vaine.
So sound he slept, that nought mought him awake.
Then rudely he him thrust, and pusht with paine,
Whereat he gan to stretch: but he againe
Shooke him so hard, that forced him to speake.
As one then in a dreame, whose dryer braine

Is tost with troubled sights and fancies weake, 440 He mumbled soft, but would not all his silence breake.

XLIII.

The Sprite then gan more boldly him to wake,
And threatned unto him the dreaded name
Of Hecate: whereat he gan to quake,
And, lifting up his lompish head, with blame
Halfe angrie asked him, for what he came.
"Hether," quoth he, " me Archimago sent,

445

He that the stubborne sprites can wisely tame;
He bids thee to him send for his intent

449

A fit false dreame, that can delude the sleepers sent."

XLIV.

The god obayde; and, calling forth straight way

A diverse dreame out of his prison darke,

454

Delivered it to him, and downe did lay His heavie head, devoide of careful carke; Whose sences all were straight benumbd and starke. He, backe returning by the yvorie dore, Remounted up as light as chearefull larke; And on his litle winges the dreame he bore In hast unto his lord, where he him left afore.

XLV.

Who all this while, with charmes and hidden artes, Had made a lady of that other spright,

460

And fram'd of liquid ayre her tender partes,

So lively, and so like in all mens sight,

That weaker sence it could have ravisht quight:
The maker selfe, for all his wondrous witt,
Was nigh beguiled with so goodly sight.
Her all in white he clad, and over it

465

Cast a black stole, most like to seeme for Una fit.

XLVI.

Now when that ydle Dreame was to him brought,

Unto that Elfin Knight he bad him fly,

470

Where he slept soundly, void of evil thought,

And with false shewes abuse his fantasy,

In sort as he him schooled privily.

And that new creature, borne without her dew,

Full of the makers guyle, with usage sly,

475

He taught to imitate that Lady trew,

Whose semblance she did carrie under feigned hew.

[This phantom, in the outward semblance of Una, conducts herself with such lightness that the Knight is perplexed with doubts of her goodness and truthfulness. At last, restless and tormented by evil delusions conjured up by Archimago, the Knight mounts his steed and flies with the dwarf. Thus parted from Una, or Truth, by the wiles of the Enchanter, the deluded Knight falls into peril in a meeting with Duessa, or Falsehood.

Meanwhile the heavenly Una, his true bride, missing her Knight, sets out in search of him, alone and sorrowful. The poet then tells how the lion comes to guard her in her need.]