Yet whenas fit advantage he did spy,
The whiles the cursed felon high did reare
His cruell hand to smite him mortally,
Under his stroke he to him stepping neare

Right in the flanke him strooke with deadly dreare,
That the gore-bloud thence gushing grievously
Did underneath him like a pond appeare,
And all his armour did with purple dye :
Thereat he brayed loud, and yelled dreadfully.

Yet the huge stroke, which he before intended,
Kept on his course, as he did it direct,

And with such monstrous poise adowne descended,
That seemed nought could him from death protect:
But he it well did ward with wise respect.
And twixt him and the blow his shield did cast,
Which thereon seizing tooke no great effect;
But, byting deepe, therein did sticke so fast [wrast.
That by no meanes it backe againe he forth could

Long while he tug'd and strove to get it out,
And all his powre applyed thereunto,
That he therewith the knight drew all about:
Nathlesse, for all that ever he could doe,
His axe he could not from his shield undoe.
Which Artegall perceiving, strooke no more,
But loosing soone his shield did it forgoe;
And, whiles he combred was therewith so sore,
He gan at him let drive more fiercely then afore.

So well he him pursew'd, that at the last
He stroke him with Chrysaor on the hed,
That with the souse thereof full sore aghast
He s'aggered to and fro in doubtfull sted:
Againe, whiles he him saw so ill bested,
He did him smite with all his might and maine,
That, falling, on his mother earth he fed:
Whom when he saw prostrated on the plaine,
He lightly reft his head to ease him of his paine.

Which when the people round about him saw,
They shouted all for ioy of his successe,
Glad to be quit from that proud tyrants awe,
Which with strong powre did them long time op-
presse;

And, running all with greedie joyfulnesse
To faire Irena, at her feet did fall,

And her adored with due humblenesse
As their true liege and princesse naturall;

And eke her champions glorie sounded over all:

Who, streight her leading with meete maiestie
Unto the palace where their kings did rayne,
Did her therein establish peaceablie,
And to her kingdomes seat restore agayne;
And all such persons, as did late maintayne
That tyrants part with close or open ayde,
He sorely punished with heavie payne;
That in short space, whiles there with her he stayd,
Not one was left that durst her once have disobayd.

During which time that he did there remayne,
His studie was true iustice how to deale,
And day and night employ'd his busie paine
How to reforme that ragged common-weale:
And that same yron man, which could reveale
All hidden crimes, through all that realme he sent
To search out those that usd to rob and steale,
Or did rebell gainst lawfull government;
On whom he did inflict most grievous punishment.

But, ere he coulde reforme it thoroughly,
He through occasion called was away
To Faerie court, that of necessity

His course of justice he was forst to stay,
And Talus to revoke from the right way,
In which he was that realme for to redresse:
But envies cloud still dimmeth vertues ray!
So, having freed Irena from distresse,

He tooke his leave of her there left in heavinesse.

Tho, as he backe returned from that land,
And there arriv'd againe whence forth he set,
He had not passed farre upon the strand,
Whenas two old ill-favour'd hags he met,
By the way-side being together set,

Two griesly creatures; and, to that their faces
Most foule and filthie were, their garments yet,
Being all rag'd and tatter'd, their disgraces [cases.
Did much the more augment, and made most ugly

The one of them, that elder did appeare,
With her dull eyes did seeme to looke askew,
That her mis-shape much helpt: and her foule heare
Hung loose and loathsomely; thereto her hew
Was wan and leane, that all her teeth arew
And all her bones inight through her cheekes be red;
Her lips were, like raw lether, pale and blew:
And as she spake, therewith she slavered; [she sed:
Yet spake she seldom: but thought more, the lesse

Her hands were foule and durtie, never washt
In all her life, with long nayles over-raught,
Like puttocks clawes; with th' one of which she
scratcht

Her cursed head, although it itched naught;
The other held a snake with venime fraught,
On which she fed and gnawed hungrily,
As if that long she had not eaten ought;
That round about her iawes one might descry
The bloudic gore and poyson dropping lothsomely.

Her name was Envie, knowen well thereby;
Whose nature is to grieve and grudge at all
That ever she sces doen prays-worthily;
Whose sight to her is greatest crosse may fall,
And vexeth so, that makes her eat her gall:
For, when she wanteth other thing to eat,
She feedes on her owne maw unnaturall,
And of her owne foule entrayles makes her meat;
Meat fit for such a monsters monsterous dyeat:

And if she hapt of any good to heare,
That had to any happily betid,

Then wonld she inly fret, and grieve, and teare
Her flesh for felnesse, which she inward hid;
But if she heard of ill that any did,

Or harme that any had, then would she make
Great cheare, like one unto a banquet bid;
And in anothers losse great pleasure take,
As she had got thereby and gayned a great stake,

The other nothing better was then shee;
Agreeing in bad will and cancred kynd,
But in bad maner they did disagree:
For whatso Envie good or bad did fynd
She did conceale, and murder her owne mynd;
But this, whatever evill she conceived,

Did spred abroad and throw in th' open wynd:
Yet this in all her words might be perceived,
That all she sought was mens good name to have
bereaved.

For, whatsoever good by any sayd

Or doen she heard, she would streightwayes invent
How to deprave or slaunderously upbrayd,
Or to misconstrue of a mans intent,

And turn to ill the thing that well was ment:
Therefore she used often to resort

To common haunts, and companies frequent,
To hearke what any one did good report,

To blot the same with blame, or wrest in wicked sort:

And if that any ill she heard of any,

She would it eeke, and make much worse by telling,
And take great ioy to pullish it to many;
That every matter worse was for her melling:
Her name was hight Detraction, and her dwelling
Was neare to Envie, even her neighbour next;
A wicked hag, and Envy selfe excelling
In mischiefe; for herselfe she only vext:

But this same both herselfe and others eke perplext.

Her face was ugly, and her mouth distort,
Foming with poyson round about her gils,
In which her cursed tongue full sharpe and short
Appear'd like aspis sting, that closely kils,
Or cruelly does wound whom so she wils:
A distaffe in her other hand she had,
Upon the which she litle spinnes, but spils;
And faynes to weave false tales and leasings bad,
To throw amongst the good, which others had dis-
prad.

These two now had themselves combynd in one,
And linckt together gainst sir Artegall;
For whom they wayted as his mortall fone,
How they might make him into mischiefe fall,
For freeing from their snares Irena thrall:
Besides, unto themselves they gotten had
A monster, which the Blatant Beast men call,
A dreadfull feend of gods and men ydrad, [lad.
Whom they by slights allur'd and to their purpose

Such were these hags, and so unhandsome drest:
Who when they nigh approching had espyde
Sir Artegall return'd from his late quest,
They both arose, and at him loudly cryde,
As it had bene two shepheards curres had scryde
A ravenous wolfe amongst the scattered flockes:
And Envie first, as she that first him eyde,
Towardes him runs, and with rude flaring lockes
About her eares does beat her brest and forhead
knockes.

Then from her mouth the gobbet she does take,
The which whyleare she was so greedily
Devouring, even that halfe-gnawen snake,
And at him throws it most despightfully:
The cursed serpent, though she hungrily
Earst chawd thereon, yet was not all so dead,
But that some life remayned secretly;
And, as he past afore withouten dread,
Bit him behind, that long the marke was to be read:

Then th' other comming neare gan him revile,
And fouly rayle, with all she could invent;
Saying that he had, with unmanly guile
And foule abusion, both his honour blent,
And that bright sword, the sword of Iustice lent,
Had stayned with reprochfull crueltie
In guiltlesse blood of many an innocent:
As for Grandtorto, him with treacherie
And traynes having surpriz'd he fouly did to die.

Thereto the Blatant Beast, by them set on,
At him began aloud to barke and bay
With bitter rage and fell contention;
That all the woods and rockes nigh to that way
Began to quake and tremble with dismay;
And all the aire rebellowed againe;

So dreadfully his hundred tongues did bray:
And evermore those bags themselves did paine
To sharpen him, and their owne cursed tongs did

straine.

And, still among, most bitter wordes they spake, Most shamefull, most unrighteous, most untrew, That they the mildest man alive would make Forget his patience, and yeeld vengeaunce dew To her, that so false sclaunders at him threw: And more, to make them pierce and wound more deepe,

She with the sting which in ber vile tongue grew Did sharpen them, and in fresh poyson steepe: Yet he past on, and seem'd of them to take no keepe

But Talus, hearing her so lewdly raile
And speake so ill of him that well deserved,
Would her have chástiz'd with his yron flaile,
If her sir Artegall had not preserved,
And him forbidden, who his heast observed:
So much the more at him still did she scold,
And stones did cast; yet he for nought would swerve
From his right course, but still the way did hold
To Faerie court; where what him fell shall else be
told.

"The Blattant Beast," quoth he, "I doe pursew,
And through the world incessantly doe chase,
Till I him overtai.e, or else subdew:
Yet know I not or how or in what place
To find him out, yet still I forward trace."
"What is that Blattant Beast then?" he replide;
"Is it a monster bred of hellishe race,"
Then answered he, "which often hath annoyd
Good knights and ladies true, and many else de-
stroyd.

"Of Cerberus whilome he was begot
And fell Chimæra, in her darkesome den,
Through fowle commixture of his filthy blot;
Where he was fostred long in Stygian fen,
Till he to perfect ripenesse grew; and then
Into this wicked world he forth was sent
To be the plague and scourge of wretched men:
Whom with vile tongue and venemous intent
He sore doth wound, and bite, and cruelly tor-
ment."

"Then, since the Salvage Island I did leave,"
Sayd Artegall, "I such a beast did see,
The which did seeme a thousand tongues to have,
That all in spight and malice did agree,
With which he bayd and loudly barkt at mee,
As if that he attonce would me devoure:
But I, that knew myselfe from perill free,
Did nought regard his malice nor his powre;
But be the more his wicked poyson forth did poure."

"That surely is that beast," saide Calidore,
"Which I pursue, of whom I am right glad
To heare these tidings which of none afore
Through all my weary travel! I have had:
Yet now some hope your words unto me add."
"Now God you speed," quoth then sir Artegall,
"And keepe your body from the daunger drad;
For ye have much adoe to deale withall!"
So both tooke goodly leave, and parted severall.

Sir Calidore thence travelled not long,
Whenas by chaunce a comely squire he found,
That thorough some more mighty enemies wrong
Both hand and foote unto a tree was bound;
Who, seeing him from farre, with piteous sound
Of his shrill cries him called to his aide:
To whom approching, in that painefull stound
When he him saw, for no demaunds he staide,
But first him losde, and afterwards thus to him said;

Unhappy squire, what hard mishap thee brought Into this bay of perill and disgrace?

66

What cruell hand thy wretched thraldome wrought,
And thee captyved in this shamefull place?”
To whom he answered thus; My haplesse case
Is not occasioud through my misdesert,
But through misfortune, which did me abase
Unto this shame, and my young hope subvert,
Ere that I in her guilefull traines was well expert.
"Not farre from hence, uppon yond rocky hill,
Hard by a streight there stands a castle strong,
Which doth observe a custome lewd and ill,
And it hath long mayntaind with mighty wrong:
For may no knight nor lady passe along
That way, (and yet they needs must passe that way,
By reason of the streight, aud rocks among,)
But they that ladies lockes doe shave away,
And that knights beard, for toll which they for pas
sage pay."

“A shamefull use as ever I did heare,"
Sayd Calidore," and to be overthrowne.
But by what meanes did they at first it reare,
And for what cause? tell if thou have it knowne."
Sayd then that squire; "The lady, which doth owne
This castle, is by name Briana hight;
Then which a prouder lady liveth none:
She long time hath deare lov'd a doughty knight,
And sought to win his love by all the meanes she
might.

"His name is Crudor; who, through high disdaine
And proud despight of his selfe-pleasing mynd,
Refused hath to yeeld her love againe,
Untill a mantle she for him doe fynd

With beards of knights and locks of ladies lynd:
Which to provide, she bath this castle dight,
And therein hath a seneschall assynd,
Cald Maleffort, a man of mickle might,

Who executes her wicked will with worse despight.

"He, this same day as I that way did come
With a faire damzell my beloved deare,
In execution of her lawlesse doome
Did set uppon us flying both for feare;
For little bootes against him hand to reare:
Me first he tooke unhable to withstond,
And whiles he her pursued every where,
Till his returne unto this tree he bond;

Ne wote I surely whether he her yet have fond."

Thus whiles they spake they heard a ruefull shrieke
Of one loud crying, which they streightway ghest
That it was she the which for helpe did seeke.
Tho, looking up unto the cry to lest,
They saw that carle from farre with hand unblest
Hayling that mayden by the yellow heare,
That all her garments from her snowy brest,
And from her head her lockes he nigh did teare,
Ne would be spare for pitty, nor refraine for feare.

Which baynous sight when Calidore beheld,
Eftsoones he loosd that squire, and so him left
With hearts dismay and inward dolour queld,
For to pursue that villaine, which had reft
That piteous spoile by so iniurious theft:
Whom overtaking, loude to him he cryde;
"Leave, faytor, quickely that misgotten weft
To him that hath it better iustifyde,

[defyde." And turne thee soone to him of whom thou art

Who, hearkning to that voice, himselfe upreard,
And, seeing him so fiercely towardes make,
Against him stoutly ran, as nought afeard,
But rather more enrag'd for those words sake;
And with sterne count'naunce thus unto him spake;
"Art thou the caytive that defyest me,
And for this mayd, whose party thou doest take,
Wilt give thy beard, though it but little bee?
Yet shall it not her lockes for raunsome fro me free."

With that he fiercely at him flew, and layd
On hideous strokes with most importune might,
That oft he made him stagger as unstayd,
And oft recuile to shunne his sharpe despight:
But Calidore, that was well skild in fight,
Him long forbore, and still his spirite spar'd,
Lying in waite how him he damadge might:
But when he felt him shrinke, and come to ward,
He greater grew, and gan to drive at him more hard.

Like as a water-streame, whose swelling sourse
Shall drive a mill, within strong bancks is pent,
And long restrayned of his ready course;
So soone as passage is unto him lent,
Breakes forth, and makes his way more violent;
Such was the fury of sir Calidore:

When once he felt his foe-man to relent,
He fiercely him pursu'd, and pressed sore;
Who as he still decayd, so he encreased more.

The heavy burden of whose dreadfull might
Whenas the carle no longer could sustaine,
His heart gan faint, and streight he tooke his flight
Toward the castle, where, if need constraine,
His hope of refuge used to remaine:
Whom Calidore perceiving fast to flie,

He him pursu'd and chaced through the plaine,
That he for dread of death gan loude to crie
Unto the ward to open to him hastilie.

They, from the wall him seeing so aghast,
The gate soone opened to receive him in;
But Calidore did follow him so fast,
That even in the porch he him did win,
And cleft his head asunder to his chin:
The carkasse tumbling downe within the dore
Did choke the entraunce with a lumpe of sin,
That it could not be shut; whilest Calidore
Did enter in, and slew the porter on the flore.

With that the rest the which the castle kept
About him flockt, and hard at him did lay;
But be them all from him full lightly swept,
As doth a steare, in heat of sommers day,
With his long taile the bryzes brush away.
Theuce passing forth into the hall he came,
Where of the lady selfe in sad dismay
He was ymett, who with uncomely shame
Gan him salute,and fowle upbrayd with faultyblame:

"False traytor knight," said she, "no knight at all,
But scorne of armes! that hast with guilty hand
Murdered my men, and slaine my seneschall;
Now comest thou to rob my house unmand,
And spoile myselfe, that cannot thee withstand?
Yet doubt thou not, but that some better knight
Then thou, that shall thy treason understand,
Will it avenge, and pay thee with thy right:
And if none do, yet shame shall thee with shamë
requight."

Much was the knight abashed at that word;
Yet answer'd thus; "Not unto me the shame,
But to the shamefull doer it afford.
Bloud is no blemish; for it is no blame
To punish those that doe deserve the same;
But they that breake bands of civilitie,
And wicked customes make, those doe defame
Both noble armes and gentle curtesie:
No greater shame to man then inhumanitie.
"Then doe yourselfe, for dread of shame, forgoe
This evil manner which ye here maintaine,
And doe instead thereof mild curt'sie showe
To all that passe: that shall you glory gaine
More then his love, which thus ye seeke t' obtaine."
Wherewith all full of wrath she thus replyde;
"Vile recreant! know that I doe much disdaine
Thy courteous lore, that doest my love deride,
Who scornes thy ydle scoffe, and bids thee be de-
fyde."