"But ah! unhappy houre me thither brought:
For in that place, where I him thought to find,
There was I found, contráry to my thought,
Ι
Of this accursed Carle of hellish kind,
The shame of men, and plague of womankind;
Who trussing me, as eagle doth his pray,
Me hether brought with him as swift as wind,
Where, yet untouched till this present day,
I rest his wretched thrall, the sad Emylia."
"Ah! sad Emylia," then sayd Amoret, Thy ruefull plight I pitty as mine owne! But read to me, by what devise or wit Hast thou in all this time from him unknowne Thine honour sav'd, though into thraldome throwne ?"
"Through helpe," quoth she, " of this old woman here
I have so done, as she to me hath showne:
For, ever when he burnt in lustfull fire,
She in my stead supplide his bestiall desire."
Thus of their evils as they did discourse,
And each did other much bewaile and mone,
Loe! where the Villaine selfe, their sorrowes sourse,
Came to the cave; and rolling thence the stone,
Which wont to stop the mouth thereof that none
Might issue forth, came rudely rushing in,
And, spredding over all the flore alone,
Gan dight himselfe unto his wonted sinne;
Which ended, then his bloudy banket should
beginne.
Which whenas fearefull Amoret perceived,
She staid not th' utmost end thereof to try,
But, like a ghastly gelt whose wits are reaved,
Ran forth in hast with hideous outcry,
For horrour of his shamefull villany:
But after her full lightly he uprose,
And her pursu'd as fast as she did flie :
Full fast she flies, and farre afore him goes,
Ne feeles the thorns and thickets pricke her tender toes.
Nor hedge, nor ditch, nor hill, nor dale she staies,
But over-leapes them all, like robucke light,
And through the thickest makes her nighest waies;
And evermore, when with regardfull sight
She looking backe espies that griesly wight
Approching nigh, she gins to mend her pace,
And makes her feare a spur to hast her flight;
More swift than Myrrh' or Daphne in her race,
Or any of the Thracian Nimphes in salvage chace.
Long so she fled, and so he follow'd long;
Ne living aide for her on earth appeares,
But if the heavens helpe to redresse her wrong,
Moved with pity of her plenteous teares.
It fortuned Belphebe with her peares
The woody Nimphs, and with that lovely Boy,
Was hunting then the libbards and the beares
In these wild woods, as was her wonted ioy,
To banish sloth that oft doth noble mindes annoy.
VOL. IV.
It so befell, as oft it fals in chace,
That each of them from other sundred were;
And that same gentle Squire arriv'd in place
Where this same cursed Caytive did appeare
Pursuing that faire Lady full of feare:
And now he her quite overtaken had;
And now he her away with him did beare
Under his arme, as seeming wondrous glad,
That by his grenning laughter mote farre off be rad.
Which drery sight the gentle Squire espying
Doth hast to crosse him by the nearest way,
Led with that wofull Ladies piteous crying,
And him assailes with all the might he may;
Yet will not he the lovely spoile downe lay,
But with his craggy club in his right hand
Defends himselfe, and saves his gotten pray:
Yet had it bene right hard him to withstand,
But that he was full light and nimble on the land.
Thereto the Villaine used craft in fight:
For, ever when the Squire his iavelin shooke,
He held the Lady forth before him right,
And with her body, as a buckler, broke
The puissaunce of his intended stroke:
And if it chaunst, (as needs it must in fight,)
Whilest he on him was greedy to be wroke,
That any little blow on her did light,
Then would he laugh aloud, and gather great de
Which subtill sleight did him encumber much,
And made him oft, when he would strike, forbeare;
For hardly could he come the Carle to touch,
But that he her must hurt, or hazard neare:
Yet he his hand so carefully did beare,
That at the last he did himselfe attaine,
And therein left the pike-head of his speare:
A streame of coleblacke bloud thence gusht amaine,
That all her silken garments did with bloud bestaine.
With that he threw her rudely on the flore,
And, laying both his hands upon his glave,
With dreadfull strokes let drive at him so sore,
That forst him flie abacke, himselfe to save:
Yet he therewith so felly still did rave,
That scarse the Squire his hand could once upreare,
But, for advantage, ground unto him gave,
Tracing and traversing, now here, now there;
For bootlesse thing it was to think such blowes
to beare.
Whilest thus in battell they embusied were,
Belphebe, raunging in her forrest wide,
The hideous noise of their huge strokes did heare,
And drew thereto, making her eare her guide:
Whom when that Theefe approching nigh espide
With bow in hand and arrowes ready bent,
He by his former combate would not bide,
But fled away with ghastly dreriment
Well knowing her to be his deaths sole instrument.
Whom seeing flie, she speedily poursewed
With winged feete, as nimble as the winde,
And ever in her bow she ready shewed
The arrow to his deadly marke desynde:
As when Latonaes daughter, cruell kynde,
In vengement of her mothers great disgrace,
With fell despight her cruell arrowes tynde
Gainst wofull Niobes unhappy race,
That all the gods did mone her miserable case.
So well she sped her and so far she ventred,
That, ere unto his hellish den he raught,
Even as he ready was there to have entred,
She sent an arrow forth with mighty draught,
That in the very dore him overcaught,
And, in his nape arriving, through it thrild
His greedy throte, therewith in two distraught,
That all his vitall spirites thereby spild,
And all his hairy brest with gory bloud was fild,
Whom when on ground she groveling saw to rowle,
She ran in hast his life to have bereft ;
But, ere she could him reach, the sinfull sowle
Having his carrion corse quite sencelesse left
Was fled to hell, surcharg'd with spoile and theft:
Yet over him she there long gazing stood,
And oft admir'd his monstrous shape, and oft
His mighty limbs, whilest all with filthy bloud
The place there over-flowne seemd like a sodaine
flood.
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