LIV.

"I, glad by any meanes her grace to gaine,
Badd her commaund my life to save or spill:
Eftsoones she badd me with incessaunt paine
To wander through the world abroad at will,
And every where, where with my power or skill
I might doe service unto gentle Dames,
That I the same should faithfully fulfill ;

[names And at the twelve monethes end should bring their And pledges, as the spoiles of my victorious games.

LV.

"So well I to faire Ladies service did,

And found such favour in their loving hartes, That, ere the yeare his course had compassid, Three hundred pledges for my good desartes, And thrice three hundred thanks for my good partes, I with me brought and did to her present: Which when she saw, more bent to eke Then to reward my trusty true intent, She gan for me devise a grievous punishment;

LVI.

my smartes

"To weet, that I my traveill should resume,
And with like labour walke the world arownd,
Ne ever to her presence should presume,
Till I so many other Dames had fownd,
The which, for all the suit I could propownd,
Would me refuse their pledges to afford,

But did abide for ever chaste and sownd."

Ah! gentle Squyre," quoth he, "tell at one word,

How many fownd'st thou such to put in thy record?”

LVII.

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Indeed, Sir Knight,” said he, one word

All that I ever fownd so wisely stayd,

may tell

For onely three they were disposd so well;
And yet three yeares I now abrode have strayd,
To find them out." "Mote I," then laughing sayd
The Knight," inquire of thee what were those three,
The which thy proffred curtesie denayd?

Or ill they seemed sure avizd to bee,

Or brutishly brought up, that nev'r did fashions see.”

LVIII.,

"The first which then refused me," said hee,

"Certes was but a common courtisane; Yet flat refusd to have adoe with mee, Because I could not give her many a jane." (Thereat full hartely laughed Satyrane.) "The second was an holy nunne to chose, Which would not let me be her chappellane, Because she knew, she sayd, I would disclose Her counsell, if she should her trust in me repose.

LIX.

"The third a damzell was of low degree,

Whom I in countrey cottage fownd by chaunce:
Full litle weened I that chastitee

Had lodging in so meane a maintenaunce;
Yet was she fayre, and in her countenaunce
Dwelt simple truth in seemely fashion:
Long thus I woo'd her with due óbservaunce,
In hope unto my pleasure to have won ;
But was as far at last, as when I first begon.

LX.

"Safe her, I never any woman found That chastity did for itselfe embrace,

But were for other causes firme and sound;

Either for want of handsome time and place,
Or else for feare of shame and fowle disgrace.
Thus am I hopelesse ever to attaine

My Ladies love, in such a desperate case,

But all my dayes am like to waste in vaine,

Seeking to match the chaste with th' unchaste Ladies

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traine."

LXI.

Perdy," sayd Satyrane, " thou Squyre of Dames,
Great labour fondly hast thou hent in hand,

To get small thankes, and therewith many blames ;
That may emongst Alcides labours stand."
Thence backe returning to the former land,
Where late he left the beast he overcame,
He found him not; for he had broke his band,
And was returnd againe unto his Dame,

To tell what tydings of fayre Florimell became.

CANTO VIII.

The Witch creates a snowy La

dy like to Florimell;

Who wrong'd by Carle, by Proteus sav'd,
Is sought by Paridell.

I.

So oft as I this history record,

My hart doth melt with meere compassion,
To thinke how causelesse of her owne accord
This gentle Damzell, whom I write upon,
Should plonged be in such affliction
Without all hope of comfort or reliefe;
That sure I weene the hardest hart of stone
Would hardly finde to aggravate her griefe:
For misery craves rather mercy then repriefe.

II.

But that accursed Hag, her hostesse late,
Had so enranckled her malitious hart,
That she desyrd th' abridgement of her fate,
Or long enlargement of her painefull smart.
Now when the beast, which by her wicked art
Late foorth she sent, she backe retourning spyde
Tyde with her golden girdle; it a part

Of Her rich spoyles whom he had earst destroyd
She weend, and wondrous gladnes to her hart applyde:

III.

And, with it ronning hast❜ly to her sonne,

Thought with that sight him much to have reliv'd; Who, thereby deeming sure the thing as donne, His former griefe with furie fresh reviv'd

Much more than earst, and would have algates riv'd The hart out of his brest: for sith her dedd He surely dempt, himselfe he thought depriv'd Quite of all hope wherewith he long had fedd His foolish malady, and long time had misledd.

IV.

With thought whereof exceeding mad he grew,
And in his rage his mother would have slaine,
Had she not fled into a secret mew,

Where she was wont her sprightes to entertainé,
The maisters of her art: there was she faine
To call them all in order to her ayde,

And them conjure, upon eternall paine,
To counsell her so carefully dismayd

[cayd.

How she might heale her sonne whose senses were de

V.

By their advice, and her owne wicked wit,

She there deviz'd a wondrous worke to frame,
Whose like on earth was never framed yit;
That even Nature selfe envide the same,
And grudg'd to see the counterfet should shame
The thing itselfe: In hand she boldly tooke
To make another like the former Dame,
Another Florimell, in shape and looke

So lively, and so like, that many it mistooke.