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His goodly corps on ragged cliffs yrent,
Was quite dismembred, and his members chast 340
Scattered on every mountaine, as he went,
That of Hippolytus was left no moniment.

XXXIX

His cruell step-dame seeing what was donne,
Her wicked dayes with wretched knife did end,
In death avowing th' innocence of her sonne, 345
Which hearing, his rash Syre began to rend
His haire, and hastie tongue that did offend.
Tho gathering up the relicks of his smart,
By Dianes meanes, who was Hippolyts frend,
Them brought to AEsculape, that by his art 350
Did heale them all againe, and joyned every part.

XL

Such wondrous science in mans wit to raine
When Jove avizd, that could the dead revive,
And fates expired? could renew againe,
Of endlesse life he might him not deprive, 355
But unto hell did thrust him downe alive,
With flashing thunderbolt ywounded sore:
Where long remaining, he did alwaies strive
Himselfe with salves to health for to restore,
And slake the heavenly fire, that raged evermore. 360

XLI

There auncient Night arriving, did alight
From her nigh wearie waine, and in her armes
To AEsculapius brought the wounded knight:
Whom having softly disarayd of armes,
Tho gan to him discover all his harmes, 365
Beseeching him with prayer, and with praise,
If either salves, or oyles, or herbes, or charmes
A fordonne wight from dore of death mote raise,
He would at her request prolong her nephews daies.

XLII

Ah Dame (quoth he) thou temptest me in vaine, 370
To dare the thing, which daily yet I rew,
And the old cause of my continued paine
With like attempt to like end to renew.
Is not enough, that thrust from heaven dew
Here endlesse penance for one fault I pay, 375
But that redoubled crime with vengeance new
Thou biddest me to eeke? can Night defray
The wrath of thundring Jove that rules both night and day?

XLIII

Not so (quoth she) but sith that heavens king
From hope of heaven hath thee excluded quight, 380
Why fearest thou, that canst not hope for thing;
And fearest not, that more thee hurten might,
Now in the powre of everlasting Night?
Goe to then, O thou farre renowmed sonne
Of great Apollo, shew thy famous might 385
In medicine, that else hath to thee wonne
Great paines, and greater praise,? both never to be donne.

XLIV

Her words prevaild: And then the learned leach
His cunning hand gan to his wounds to lay,
And all things else, the which his art did teach: 390
Which having seene, from thence arose away
The mother of dread darknesse, and let stay
Aveugles sonne there in the leaches cure,
And backe returning tooke her wonted way,
To runne her timely race, whilst Phoebus pure, 395
In westerne waves his weary wagon did recure.

XLV

The false Duessa leaving noyous Night,
Returnd to stately pallace of Dame Pride;
Where when she came, she found the Faery knight
Departed thence, albe his woundes wide 400
Not throughly heald, unreadie were to ride.
Good cause he had to hasten thence away;
For on a day his wary Dwarfe had spide
Where in a dongeon deepe huge numbers lay
Of caytive wretched thrals, that wayled night and day.
405

XLVI

A ruefull sight, as could be seene with eie;
Of whom he learned had in secret wise
The hidden cause of their captivitie,
How mortgaging their lives to Covetise,
Through wastfull Pride and wanton Riotise, 410
They were by law of that proud Tyrannesse,
Provokt with Wrath, and Envies false surmise,
Condemned to that Dongeon mercilesse,
Where they should live in woe, and die in wretchednesse.

XLVII

There was that great proud king of Babylon,? 415
That would compell all nations to adore,
And him as onely God to call upon,
Till through celestiall doome throwne out of dore,
Into an Oxe he was transform'd of yore:
There also was king Croesus,? that enhaunst 420
His hart too high through his great riches store;
And proud Antiochus,? the which advaunst
His cursed hand gainst God and on his altars daunst.

XLVIII

And them long time before, great Nimrod? was,
That first the world with sword and fire warrayd; 425
And after him old Ninus? farre did pas
In princely pompe, of all the world obayd;
There also was that mightie Monarch? layd
Low under all, yet above all in pride,
That name of native syre did fowle upbrayd, 430
And would as Ammons sonne be magnifide,
Till scornd of God and man a shamefull death he dide.

XLIX

All these together in one heape were throwne,
Like carkases of beasts in butchers stall.
And in another corner wide were strowne 435
The antique ruines of the Romaines fall:
Great Romulus? the Grandsyre of them all,
Proud Tarquin,? and too lordly Lentulus,?
Stout Scipio,? and stubborne Hanniball,?
Ambitious Sylla,?