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Whereof great vertues over all were redd:
For happy life to all which thereon fedd.
And life eke everlasting did befall :
Great God it planted in that blessed stedd
With his almighty hand, and did it call
The Tree of Life, the crime of our first fathers fall.

In all the world like was not to be fownd,
Save in that soile, where all good things did grow,
And freely sprong out of the fruitfull grownd,
As incorrupted Nature did them sow,
Til that dredd dragon all did overthrow.
Another like faire tree eke grew thereby,
Whereof whoso did eat, eftsoones did know
Both good and ill: O mournful memory! (to dy!
That tree through one mans fault hath doen us all

From that first tree forth flowd, as from a well,
A trickling streame of balme, most soveraigne
And dainty deare, which on the ground still fell,
And overflowed all the fertile plaine,
As it had deawed bene with timely raine ;
Life and long health that gracious ointment gave;
And deadly wounds could heale; and reare againe
The senceless corse appointed for the grave:
Into that same he fell, which did from death him

save.

For nigb thereto the ever-damned beast
Durst not approch, for he was deadly made,
And al that life preserved did detest;
Yet he it oft adventur'd to invade.
By this the drouping Day-light gan to fade,

And yield his rowme to sad succeeding Night,
Who with her sable mantle gan to shade
The face of Earth and wayes of living wight,
And high her burning torch set up in Heaven bright.

When gentle Una saw the second fall
Of her deare knight, who, weary of long fight
And faint through losse of blood, moovid not at all,
But lay, as in a dreame of deepe delight,
Besmeard with pretious balme, whose vertuous

might
Did heale his woundes, and scorching heat alay;
Againe she stricken was with sore affright,
And for his safetie gan devoutly pray, [day
And watch the noyous night, and wait for ioyous

The ioyous day gan early to appeare ;
And fayre Aurora from the deawy bed
Of aged Tithone gan herselfe to reare
With rosy cheekes, for shame as blushing red:
Her golden locks, for hast, were loosely shed
About her eares, when Una her did marke
Clymbe to her charet, all with flowers spred,
From Heven high to chace the chearelesse darke;
With mery note her lowd salutes the mounting larke.

Then freshly up arose the doughty knight,
All healed of his hurts and woundës wide,
And did himselfe to battaile ready dight;
Whose early foe awaiting him beside
To have devourd, so soone as day he spyde,
When now he saw himselfe so freshly reare,
As if late fight had nought him damnifyde,

He woxe dismaid, and gan his fate to feare; Nathelesse with wonted rage he him advaunced

neare ;

And in his first encounter, gaping wyde,
He thought att önce him to haves wallowed quight,
And rusht upon him with outrageous pryde ;
Who him rencounting fierse, as hauke in flight,
Perforce rebutted back; the weapon bright,
Taking advantage of his open iaw,
Ran through his mouth with so importune might,
That deepe emperst his darksom hollow maw,
Ank, back retyrd, his life blood forth withall did

draw.

So downe he fell, and forth his life did breath,
That vanisht into smoke and cloudës swift;
So downe he fell, that th’ Earth him underneath
Did grone, as feeble so great load to lift;
So downe he fell, as an huge rocky clift,
Whose false foundacion waves have washt away,
With dreadful poyse is from the mayneland rift,
And, rolling downe, great Neptune doth dismay:
So down he fell, and like an heaped mountaine lay.
The knight himselfe even trembled at his fall,
So huge and horrible a masse it seemd ;
And his deare lady, that beheld it all,
Durst not aproch for dread which she misdeemd ;
But yet at last, whenas the direfull feend
She saw not stirre, off-shaking vaine affright
She nigher drew, and saw that ioyous end :
Then God she prays’d and thankt her faithfull

knight, That had atchievde so great a conquest by his might,

CANTO XII.

Fayre Una to the Redcrosse knight

Betrouthed is with ioy :
Though false Duessa, it to barre,

Her false sleightes doe employ.

BEHOLD I see the haven nigh at hand,
To which I meane my wearie course to bend;
Vere the meane shete, and beare up with the land
The which afore is fayrly to be kend,
And seemeth safe from stormes that may offend :
There this fayre virgin wearie of her way
Must landed bee, now at her iourneys end ;
There eke my feeble barke awhile may stay,
Till mery wynd and weather call her thence away,

Scarsely had Phoebus in the glooming east
Yet harnessed his fyrie-footed teeme,
Ne reard above the Earth his flaming creast ;
When the last deadly smoke aloft did steeme,
That signe of last outbreathed life did seeme
Unto the watchman on the castle-wall,
Who thereby dead that balefull beast did deeme,
And to his lord and lady lowd gan call,
To tell how he had seene the dragons fatall fall.

Uprose with hasty ioy, and feeble speed,
That aged syre, the lord of all that land,
And looketh forth, to weet if trew indeed
Those tydings were, as he did understand:
Which whenas trew by tryall he out fond,

He badd to open wyde his brasen gate,
Which long time had beene shut, and out of hond
Proclaymed ioy and peace through all his state;
For dead now was their foe, which them forrayed

late.

Then gan triumphant trompets sownd on hye,
That sent to Heven the ecchoed report
Of their new ioy, and happie victory
Gainst him, that had them long opprest with tort,
And fast imprisoned in sieged fort.
Then all the people, as in solemne feast,
To him assembled with one full consort,
Reioycing at the fall of that great beast,
From whose eternall bondage now they were releast.

Forth came that auncient lord, and aged queene,
Arayd in antique robes downe to the grownd,
And sad habiliments right well beseene ;
A noble crew about them waited rownd
Of sage and sober peres, all gravely gownd;
Whom far before did march a goodly band
Of tall young men, all hable armes to sownd,
But now they lawrell braunches bore in hand;
Glad signe of victory and peace in all their land.

Unto that doughtie conqueror they came,
And, him before themselves prostrating low,
Their lord and patrone loud did him proclame,
And at his feet their lawrell boughes did throw.
Soone after them, all dauncing on a row,
The comely virgins came, with girlands dight,
As fresh as flowres in medow greene doe

grow,

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