Florimel told him her story, and how, pursued by such dire peril, she had sought shelter in his little shallop.
She told him of her royal birth, and promised him a dear reward in the future if he would set her on some safe shore. Then the old man, seeing the gleam of jewels on her round arms, and the rings on her fingers and in her dainty ears, and many signs of wealth about her, began to plot within himself to rob her, and afterwards to cast her body into the deep. When the black spirit of Avarice thus stirred within his breast, he seized the maiden with rude grasp and tried to tear off her jewels. She shrieked aloud with fear, and struggling in his grasp, called aloud on the spirits that guard injured innocence to succor her.
At her cry a strange sight appeared. On the crest of the waves was seen a pearly chariot, lined with pale amber, drawn by six finny creatures, whose scaly sides shed forth a translucent glow, like pale moonlight. Within was seated the enchanter Proteus, his white hair and beard flowing to his waist. He hastened on his finny steeds to the maiden’s rescue; and no sooner had he reached the boat than he drew Florimel into his chariot, and with one blow sank the frail shallop. Then seizing the ancient fisher, he belabored him lustily with his forked trident, and lashing him to the back of one of the scaly mon-
