Yet first he cast by treatie, and by traynes, 25 Her to persuade that stubborne fort to yilde: For greater conquest of hard love he gaynes, That workes it to his will, then he that it constraines.

IV

With fawning words he courted her awhile, And looking lovely, and oft sighing sore, 30 Her constant hart did tempt with diverse guile, But wordes and lookes, and sighes she did abh.o.r.e; As rocke of Diamond steadfast evermore, Yet for to feed his fyrie l.u.s.tfull eye, He s.n.a.t.c.ht the vele that hong her face before; 35 Then gan her beautie shyne, as brightest skye And burnt his beastly hart t'efforce her chast.i.tye.

V

So when he saw his flatt'ring artes to fayle, And subtile engines bett from batteree; With greedy force he gan the fort a.s.sayle, 40 Whereof he weend possessed soone to bee, And with rich spoile of ransackt chast.i.tee.

Ah heavens! that do this hideous act behold, And heavenly virgin thus outraged see, How can ye vengeance just so long withold 45 And hurle not flashing flames upon that Paynim bold?

VI

The pitteous maiden carefull comfortlesse, Does throw out thrilling shriekes, and shrieking cryes, The last vaine helpe of womens great distresse, And with loud plaints importuneth the skyes, 50 That molten starres do drop like weeping eyes; And Phbus flying so most shameful sight, His blushing face in foggy cloud implyes, And hides for shame. What wit of mortall wight Can now devise to quit a thrall from such a plight?

VII

55 Eternal providence exceeding thought, Where none appeares can make herselfe a way: A wondrous way it for this Lady wrought, From Lyons clawes to pluck the griped pray.

Her shrill outcryes and shriekes so loud did bray, 60 That all the woodes and forestes did resownd; A troupe of Faunes and Satyres far away Within the wood were dauncing in a rownd, Whiles old Sylva.n.u.s slept in shady arber sownd: VIII

Who when they heard that pitteous strained voice, 65 In haste forsooke their rurall meriment, And ran towards the far rebownded noyce, To weet, what wight so loudly did lament.

Unto the place they come incontinent: Whom when the raging Sarazin espide, 70 A rude, mishapen, monstrous rablement, Whose like he never saw, he durst not bide, But got his ready steed, and fast away gan ride.

IX

The wyld woodG.o.ds arrived in the place, There find the virgin dolefull desolate, 75 With ruffled rayments, and faire blubbred face, As her outrageous foe had left her late; And trembling yet through feare of former hate: All stand amazed at so uncouth sight, And gin to pittie her unhappie state; 80 All stand astonied at her beautie bright, In their rude eyes unworthy of so wofull plight.

X

She more amaz'd, in double dread doth dwell; And every tender part for feare doth shake: As when a greedie Wolfe, through hunger fell, 85 A seely Lambe farre from the flocke does take, Of whom he meanes his bloudie feast to make, A Lyon spyes fast running towards him, The innocent pray in hast he does forsake, Which quit from death yet quakes in every lim 90 With chaunge of feare, to see the Lyon looke so grim.

XI

Such fearefull fit a.s.said her trembling hart, Ne word to speake, ne joynt to move she had: The salvage nation feele her secret smart, And read her sorrow in her count'nance sad; 95 Their frowning forheads with rough hornes yclad, And rustick horror all a side doe lay; And gently grenning, show a semblance glad To comfort her, and feare to put away, Their backward bent knees teach her humbly to obay.

XII

100 The doubtfull Damzell dare not yet commit Her single person to their barbarous truth; But still twixt feare and hope amazd does sit, Late learnd what harme to hasty trust ensu'th: They in compa.s.sion of her tender youth, 105 And wonder of her beautie soveraine, Are wonne with pitty and unwonted ruth, And all prostrate upon the lowly plaine, Do kisse her feete, and fawne on her with count'nance faine.

XIII

Their harts she ghesseth by their humble guise, 110 And yieldes her to extremitie of time; So from the ground she fearlesse doth arise, And walketh forth without suspect of crime: They all as glad, as birdes of joyous Prime, Thence lead her forth, about her dauncing round, 115 Shouting, and singing all a shepheards ryme, And with greene braunches strowing all the ground, Do worship her, as Queene, with olive girlond cround.

XIV

And all the way their merry pipes they sound, That all the woods with doubled Eccho ring, 120 And with their horned feet do weare the ground, Leaping like wanton kids in pleasant Spring.

So towards old Sylva.n.u.s they her bring; Who with the noyse awaked commeth out To weet the cause, his weake steps governing, 125 And aged limbs on Cypresse stadle stout; And with an yvie twyne his wast is girt about.

XV

Far off he wonders, what them makes so glad, Or Bacchus merry fruit they did invent, Or Cybeles franticke rites have made them mad, 130 They drawing nigh, unto their G.o.d present That flowre of faith and beautie excellent.

The G.o.d himselfe, vewing that mirrhour rare, Stood long amazd, and burnt in his intent; His owne faire Dryope now he thinkes not faire, 135 And Pholoe fowle when her to this he doth compaire.

XVI

The woodborne people fall before her flat, And worship her as G.o.ddesse of the wood; And old Sylva.n.u.s selfe bethinkes not, what To thinke of wight so faire, but gazing stood, 140 In doubt to deeme her borne of earthly brood; Sometimes Dame Venus selfe he seemes to see, But Venus never had so sober mood; Sometimes Diana he her takes to bee, But misseth bow, and shaftes, and buskins to her knee.

XVII

145 By vew of her he ginneth to revive His ancient love, and dearest Cyparisse, And calles to mind his pourtraiture alive, How faire he was, and yet not faire to this, And how he slew with glauncing dart amisse 150 A gentle Hynd, the which the lovely boy Did love as life, above all worldly blisse; For griefe whereof the lad n'ould after joy, But pynd away in anguish and selfe-wild annoy.

XVIII

The wooddy Nymphes, faire Hamadryades, 155 Her to behold do thither runne apace, And all the troupe of light-foot Naiades Flocke all about to see her lovely face: But when they vewed have her heavenly grace, They envy her in their malitious mind, 160 And fly away for feare of fowle disgrace: But all the Satyres scorne their woody kind, And henceforth nothing faire but her on earth they find.

XIX

Glad of such lucke, the luckelesse lucky maid, Did her content to please their feeble eyes, 165 And long time with that salvage people staid, To gather breath in many miseries.

During which time her gentle wit she plyes, To teach them truth, which worshipt her in vaine, And made her th' Image of Idolatryes; 170 But when their bootlesse zeale she did restraine From her own worship, they her a.s.se would worship fayn.

XX

It fortuned a n.o.ble warlike knight By just occasion to that forrest came, To seeke his kindred, and the lignage right, 175 From whence he tooke his well deserved name: He had in armes abroad wonne much.e.l.l fame, And fild far lands with glorie of his might, Plaine, faithfull, true, and enimy of shame, And ever lov'd to fight for Ladies right: 180 But in vaine glorious frayes he litle did delight.

XXI

A Satyres sonne yborne in forrest wyld, By straunge adventure as it did betyde, And there begotten of a Lady myld, Faire Thyamis the daughter of Labryde, 185 That was in sacred bands of wedlocke tyde To Therion, a loose unruly swayne; Who had more joy to raunge the forrest wyde, And chase the salvage beast with busie payne, Then serve his Ladies love, and wast in pleasures vayne.

XXII

190 The forlorne mayd did with loves longing burne And could not lacke her lovers company, But to the wood she goes, to serve her turne, And seeke her spouse that from her still does fly, And followes other game and venery: 195 A Satyre chaunst her wandring for to finde, * * * * *

And made her person thrall unto his beastly kind.

XXIII

So long in secret cabin there he held * * * * *

Then home he suffred her for to retyre, For ransome leaving him the late borne childe; 200 Whom till to ryper yeares he gan aspire, He noursled up in life and manners wilde, Emongst wild beasts and woods, from lawes of men exilde.

XXIV

For all he taught the tender ymp, was but To banish cowardize and b.a.s.t.a.r.d feare; 205 His trembling hand he would him force to put Upon the Lyon and the rugged Beare; And from the she Beares teats her whelps to teare; And eke wyld roaring Buls he would him make To tame, and ryde their backes not made to beare; 210 And the Robuckes in flight to overtake, That every beast for feare of him did fly and quake.

XXV

Thereby so fearlesse, and so fell he grew, That his owne sire and maister of his guise Did often tremble at his horrid vew, 215 And oft for dread of hurt would him advise, The angry beasts not rashly to despise, Nor too much to provoke; for he would learne The Lyon stoup to him in lowly wise, (A lesson hard) and make the Libbard sterne 220 Leave roaring, when in rage he for revenge did earne.

XXVI

And for to make his powre approved more, Wyld beasts in yron yokes he would compell; The spotted Panther, and the tusked Bore, The Pardale swift, and the tigre cruell, 225 The Antelope, and Wolfe both fierce and fell; And them constraine in equall teme to draw.

Such joy he had, their stubborne harts to quell, And st.u.r.die courage tame with dreadfull aw, That his beheast they feared, as a tyrans law.

XXVII

230 His loving mother came upon a day Unto the woods, to see her little sonne; And chaunst unwares to meet him in the way, After his sportes, and cruell pastime donne; When after him a Lyonesse did runne, 235 That roaring all with rage, did lowd requere Her children deare, whom he away had wonne: The Lyon whelpes she saw how he did beare, And lull in rugged armes, withouten childish feare.

XXVIII

The fearefull Dame all quaked at the sight, 240 And turning backe, gan fast to fly away, Untill with love revokt from vaine affright, She hardly yet perswaded was to stay, And then to him these womanish words gan say; Ah Satyrane, my dearling, and my joy, 245 For love of me leave off this dreadfull play; To dally thus with death is no fit toy, Go find some other play-fellowes, mine own sweet boy.

XXIX

In these and like delights of bloudy game He trayned was, till ryper yeares he raught; 250 And there abode, whilst any beast of name Walkt in that forest, whom he had not taught To feare his force: and then his courage haught Desird of forreine foemen to be knowne, And far abroad for straunge adventures sought; 255 In which his might was never overthrowne; But through all Faery lond his famous worth was blown.

x.x.x

Yet evermore it was his manner faire, After long labours and adventures spent, Unto those native woods for to repaire, 260 To see his sire and offspring auncient.

And now he thither came for like intent; Where he unwares the fairest Una found, Straunge Lady, in so straunge habiliment, Teaching the Satyres, which her sat around, 265 Trew sacred lore, which from her sweet lips did redound.

x.x.xI

He wondred at her wisedome heavenly rare, Whose like in womens wit he never knew; And when her curteous deeds he did compare, Gan her admire, and her sad sorrowes rew, 270 Blaming of Fortune, which such troubles threw, And joyd to make proofe of her crueltie, On gentle Dame, so hurtlesse, and so trew: Thenceforth he kept her goodly company, And learnd her discipline of faith and veritie.

x.x.xII

275 But she all vowd unto the Redcrosse knight, His wandring perill closely did lament, Ne in this new acquaintaunce could delight, But her deare heart with anguish did torment, And all her wit in secret counsels spent, 280 How to escape. At last in privie wise To Satyrane she shewed her intent; Who glad to gain such favour, gan devise How with that pensive Maid he best might thence arise.

x.x.xIII

So on a day when Satyres all were gone 285 To do their service to Sylva.n.u.s old, The gentle virgin left behind alone He led away with courage stout and bold.