No More Learning

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CANTO VI

From lawlesse lust by wondrous grace
fayre Una is releast:
Whom salvage nation does adore,
and learnes her wise beheast.

I

As when a ship, that flyes faire under saile,
An hidden rocke escaped hath unwares,
That lay in waite her wrack for to bewaile,
The Marriner yet halfe amazed stares
At perill past, and yet in doubt ne dares 5
To joy at his foole-happie oversight:
So doubly is distrest twixt joy and cares
The dreadlesse courage of this Elfin knight,
Having escapt so sad ensamples in his sight.

II

Yet sad he was that his too hastie speede 10
The faire Duess' had forst him leave behind;
And yet more sad, that Una his deare dreed
Her truth had staind with treason so unkind;
Yet crime in her could never creature find,
But for his love, and for her owne selfe sake, 15
She wandred had from one to other Ynd,?
Him for to seeke, ne ever would forsake,
Till her unwares the fiers Sansloy did overtake.

III

Who, after Archimagoes fowle defeat,
Led her away into a forest wilde, 20
And turning wrathfull fyre to lustfull heat,
With beastly sin thought her to have defilde,
And made the vassal of his pleasures wilde.
Yet first he cast by treatie, and by traynes,
Her to persuade that stubborne fort to yilde: 25
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,
Her constant hart did tempt with diverse guile, 30
But wordes and lookes, and sighes she did abhore;
As rocke of Diamond steadfast evermore,
Yet for to feed his fyrie lustfull eye,
He snatcht the vele that hong her face before;
Then gan her beautie shyne, as brightest skye 35
And burnt his beastly hart t'efforce her chastitye.

V

So when he saw his flatt'ring artes to fayle,
And subtile engines bett from batteree;
With greedy force he gan the fort assayle,
Whereof he weend possessed soone to bee, 40
And with rich spoile of ransackt chastitee.
Ah heavens! that do this hideous act behold,
And heavenly virgin thus outraged see,
How can ye vengeance just so long withold
And hurle not flashing flames upon that Paynim bold? 45

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,
That molten starres do drop like weeping eyes; 50
And Phoebus 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

Eternal providence exceeding thought, 55
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,
That all the woodes and forestes did resownd; 60
A troupe of Faunes and Satyres? far away
Within the wood were dauncing in a rownd,
Whiles old Sylvanus?
slept in shady arber sownd:

VIII

Who when they heard that pitteous strained voice,
In haste forsooke their rurall meriment, 65
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,
A rude, mishapen, monstrous rablement, 70
Whose like he never saw, he durst not bide,
But got his ready steed, and fast away gan ride.

IX

The wyld woodgods arrived in the place,
There find the virgin dolefull desolate,
With ruffled rayments, and faire blubbred face, 75
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;
All stand astonied at her beautie bright, 80
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,
A seely Lambe farre from the flocke does take, 85
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
With chaunge of feare,? to see the Lyon looke so grim. 90

XI

Such fearefull fit assaid 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;
Their frowning forheads with rough hornes yclad, 95
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

The doubtfull Damzell dare not yet commit 100
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 compassion of her tender youth,
And wonder of her beautie soveraine, 105
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,
And yieldes her to extremitie of time; 110
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,
Shouting, and singing all a shepheards ryme, 115
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,
And with their horned feet? do weare the ground, 120
Leaping like wanton kids in pleasant Spring.