Who, with a cloud of night him covering, bore
Downe to the house of dole, his daies there to deplore.
Which when the Lady from the Castle saw,
Where she with her two sonnes did looking stand,
She towards him in hast her selfe did draw
To greet him the good fortune of his hand:
And all the people, both of towne and land,
Which there stood gazing from the Citties wall
Uppon these warriours, greedy t’understand
To whether should the victory befall,
Now when they saw it falne, they eke him greeted all.
But Belgè, with her sonnes, prostrated low
Before his feete in all that peoples sight,
Mongst joyes mixing some tears, mongst wele some wo,
Him thus bespake: “O most redoubted Knight,
The which hast me, of all most wretched wight,
That earst was dead, restor’d to life againe,
And these weake impes replanted by thy might,
What guerdon can I give thee for thy paine,
But even that which thou savedst thine still to remaine?”
He tooke her up forby the lilly hand,
And her recomforted the best he might,
Saying; “Deare Lady, deedes ought not be scand
By th’authors manhood, nor the doers might,
But by their trueth and by the causes right:
That same is it which fought for you this day.
What other meed, then, need me to requight,
But that which yeeldeth vertues meed alway?
That is, the vertue selfe, which her reward doth pay.”
She humbly thankt him for that wondrous grace,
And further sayd: “Ah! Sir, but mote ye please,
Sith ye thus farre have tendred my poore case,
As from my chiefest foe me to release,
That your victorious arme will not yet cease,
Till ye have rooted all the relickes out
Of that vilde race, and stablished my peace.”
“What is there else” (sayd he) “left of their rout?
Declare it boldly, Dame, and doe not stand in dout.”
“Then wote you, Sir, that in this Church hereby
There stands an Idole of great note and name,
The which this Gyant reared first on hie,
And of his owne vaine fancies thought did frame:
To whom, for endlesse horrour of his shame,
He offred up for daily sacrifize
My children and my people, burnt in flame
With all the tortures that he could devize,
The more t’aggrate his God with such his blouddy guize.
“And underneath this Idoll there doth lie
An hideous monster that doth it defend,
And feedes on all the carkasses that die
In sacrifize unto that cursed feend;
Whose ugly shape none ever saw, nor kend,
That ever scap’d: for of a man, they say,
It has the voice, that speaches forth doth send,
Even blasphemous words, which she doth bray
Out of her poysnous entrails fraught with dire decay.”
Which when the Prince heard tell, his heart gan earne
For great desire that Monster to assay,
And prayd the place of her abode to learne;
Which being shew’d, he gan him selfe streightway
Thereto addresse, and his bright shield display.
So to the Church he came, where it was told
The Monster underneath the Altar lay:
There he that Idoll saw of massy gold
Most richly made, but there no Monster did behold.
Upon the Image with his naked blade
Three times, as in defiance, there he strooke;
And the third time out of an hidden shade
There forth issewd from under th’Altars smooke
A dreadfull feend with fowle deformed looke,
That stretcht it selfe as it had long lyen still;
And her long taile and fethers strongly shooke,
That all the Temple did with terrour fill;
Yet him nought terrified that feared nothing ill.
An huge great Beast it was, when it in length
Was stretched forth, that nigh fild all the place,
And seem’d to be of infinite great strength:
Horrible, hideous, and of hellish race,
Borne of the brooding of Echidna base,
Or other like infernall furies kinde;
For of a Mayd she had the outward face,
To hide the horrour which did lurke behinde,
The better to beguile whom she so fond did finde.
Thereto the body of a dog she had,
Full of fell ravin and fierce greedinesse;
A Lions clawes, with powre and rigour clad,
To rend and teare what so she can oppresse;
A Dragons taile, whose sting without redresse
Full deadly wounds where so it is empight;
And Eagles wings, for scope and speedinesse,
That nothing may escape her reaching might,
Whereto she ever list to make her hardy flight.
Much like in foulnesse and deformity
Unto that Monster, whom the Theban Knight,
The father of that fatall progeny,
Made kill her selfe for very hearts despight
That he had red her Riddle, which no wight
Could ever loose but suffred deadly doole:
So also did this Monster use like slight
To many a one which came unto her schoole,
Whom she did put to death, deceived like a foole.
She comming forth, when as she first beheld
The armed Prince with shield so blazing bright
Her ready to assaile, was greatly queld,
And much dismayd with that dismayfull sight,
That backe she would have turnd for great affright:
But he gan her with courage fierce assay,
That forst her turne againe in her despight
To save her selfe, least that he did her slay;
And sure he had her slaine, had she not turnd her way.
Tho, when she saw that she was forst to fight,
She flew at him like to an hellish feend,
And on his shield tooke hold with all her might,
As if that it she would in peeces rend,
Or reave out of the hand that did it hend:
Strongly he strove out of her greedy gripe
To loose his shield, and long while did contend;
But, when he could not quite it, with one stripe
Her Lions clawes he from her feete away did wipe.
With that aloude she gan to bray and yell,
And fowle blasphemous speaches forth did cast,
And bitter curses, horrible to tell;
That even the Temple, wherein she was plast,
Did quake to heare, and nigh asunder brast:
