From which fast trickled forth a silver flood,
Full of great vertues, and for medicine good:
Whylome, before that cursed dragon got
That happy land, and all with innocent blood
Defyld those sacred waves, it rightly hot
The Well of Life; ne yet his vertues had forgot;

For unto life the dead it could restore,
And guilt of sinfull crimes cleane wash away;
Those, that with sicknesse were infected sore,
It could recure; and aged long decay
Renew, as one were borne that very day.
Both Silo this, and Iordan, did excell,

And th' English Bath, and eke the German Spau;
Ne can Cephise, nor Hebrus, match this well:
Into the same the knight back overthrowen fell.

Now gan the golden Phœbus for to steepe
His fierie face in billowes of the west,
And his faint steedes watred in ocean deepe,
Whiles from their iournall labours they did rest;
When that infernall monster, having kest
His wearie foe into that living well,

Can high advaunce his broad discoloured brest
Above his wonted pitch, with countenance fell,
And clapt his yron wings, as victor he did dwell.

Which when his pensive lady saw from farre,
Great woe and sorrow did her soule assay,
As weening that the sad end of the warre;
And gan to highest God entirely pray
That feared chaunce from her to turne away :
With folded hands and knees full lowly bent,
All night she watcht; ne once adowne would lay

Her dainty limbs in her sad dreriment,

But praying still did wake, and waking did lament.

The morrow next gan earely to appeare,
That Titan rose to runne his daily race;
But earely, ere the morrow next gan reare
Out of the sea faire Titans deawy face,
Up rose the gentle virgin from her place,
And looked all about, if she might spy
Her loved knight to move his manly pace;
For she had great doubt of his safety,
Since late she saw him fall before his enimy.

At last she saw, where he upstarted brave
Out of the well wherein he drenched lay;
As eagle, fresh out of the ocean wave,
Where he hath lefte his plumes all hory gray,
And deckt himselfe with fethers youthly gay,
Like eyas hauke up mounts unto the skies,
His newly-budded pineons to assay,
And marveiles at himselfe, stil as he flies:

[rise.

So new this new-borne knight to battell new did

Whom when the damned feend so fresh did spy,
No wonder if he wondred at the sight,
And doubted whether his late enimy
It were, or other new supplied knight..
He now, to prove his late-renewed might,
High brandishing his bright deaw-burning blade,
Upon his crested scalp so sore did smite,
That to the scull a yawning wound it made :
The deadly dint his dulled sences all dismaid.

I wote not, whether the revenging steele
Were hardned with that holy water dew

Wherein he fell; or sharper edge did feele;
Or his baptized hands now greater grew;
Or other secret vertue did ensew;

Els never could the force of fleshly arme,.

Ne molten mettall, in his blood embrew:

For, till that stownd, could never wight him harme By subtilty, nor slight, nor might, nor mighty charme.

The cruell wound enraged him so sore,
That loud he yelled for exceeding paine;
As hundred ramping lions seemd to rore,
Whom ravenous hunger did thereto constraine.
Then gan he tosse aloft his stretched traine,
And therewith scourge the buxome aire so sore,
That to his force to yielden it was faine;

Ne ought his sturdy strokes might stand afore,
That high trees overthrew, and rocks in peeces tore:

The same advauncing high above his head,
With sharpe intended sting so rude him smott,
That to the earth him drove, as stricken dead;
Ne living wight would have him life behott:
The mortall sting his angry needle shott

Quite through his shield, and in his shoulder seasd,
Where fast it stucke, ne would thereout be gott:
The griefe thereof him wondrous sore diseasd,
Ne might his rancling paine with patience be appeasd.

But yet, more mindfull of his honour deare
Then of the grievous smart which him did wring,
From loathed soile he can him lightly reare,
And strove to loose the far infixed sting:
Which when in vaine he tryde with struggëling,

Inflam'd with wrath, his raging blade he hefte,
And strooke so strongly, that the knotty string
Of his huge taile he quite asonder clefte; [lefte.
Five ionts thereof he hewd, and but the stump him

Hart cannot think, what outrage and what cries,
With fowle enfouldred smoake and flashing fire,
The hell-bred beast threw forth unto the skies,
That all was covered with darknesse dire :
Then fraught with rancour, and engorged yre,
He cast at once him to avenge for all;

[all.

And, gathering up himselfe out of the mire
With his uneven wings, did fiercely fall

Upon his sunne-bright shield, and grypt it fast with

Much was the man encombred with his hold,
In feare to lose his weapon in his paw,

Ne wist yett, how his talaunts to unfold;
Nor harder was from Cerberus greedy iaw
To plucke a bone, then from his cruell claw
To reave by strength the griped gage away:
Thrise he assayd it from his foote to draw,
And thrise in vaine to draw it did assay;

It booted nought to thinke to robbe him of his pray.

Tho, when he saw no power might prevaile,
His trusty sword he cald to his last aid,
Wherewith he fiersly did his foe assaile,
And doubte blowes about him stoutly laid,
That glauncing fire out of the yron plaid;
As sparkles from the andvile use to fly,
When heavy hammers on the wedg are swaid;
Therewith at last he forst him to unty.

One of his grasping feete, him to defend thereby.
VOL. II.

R

The other foote, fast fixed on his shield,

Whenas no strength nor stroks mote him constraine
To loose, ne yet the warlike pledg to yield;

He smott thereat with all his might and maine,
That nought so wondrous puissaunce might sustaine:
Upon the ioint the lucky steele did light,

And made such way, that hewd it quite in twaine;
The paw yett missed not his minisht might,

But hong still on the shield, as it at first was pight.

For griefe thereof and divelish despight,
From his infernall fournace fourth he threw
Huge flames, that dimmed all the Hevens light,
Enrold in duskish smoke and brimstone blew :
As burning Aetna from his boyling stew

Doth belch out flames, and rockes in peeces broke,
And ragged ribs of mountaines molten new,
Enwrapt in coleblacke clowds and filthy smoke,
That al the land with stench, and Heven with hor-
ror, choke.

The heate whereof, and harmefull pestilence,
So sore him noyd, that forst him to retire
A little backeward for his best defence,
To save his body from the scorching fire,
Which he from hellish entrailes did expire.
It chaunst, (eternall God that chaunce did guide)
As he recoiled backeward, in the mire
His nigh forwearied feeble feet did slide,

[fide.

And downe he fell, with dread of shame sore terri

There grew a goodly tree him faire beside,
Loaden with fruit and apples rosy redd,

As they in pure vermilion had been dide,