Cant. VIII.
the Faerie Queene.
109
That when the carefull knight gan well auise,He lightly left the foe, with whom he fought,And to the beast gan turne his enterprise;For wondrous anguish in his hart it wrought,To see his loued Squyre into such thraldom brought.
And high aduauncing his blood-thirstie blade,Stroke one of those deformed heades so sore,That of his puissaunce proud ensample made;His monstrous scalpe downe to his teeth it tore,And that misformed shape misshaped more:A sea of blood gusht from the gaping wownd,That her gay garments staynd with filthy gore,And ouerflowed all the field arownd;That ouer shoes in blood he waded on the grownd.
Thereat he rored for excecding paine,That to haue heard, great horror would haue bred,And scourging th'emptie ayre with his long trayne,Through great impatience of his grieued hedHis gorgeous ryder from her loftie stedWould haue cast downe, and trodd in durty myre,Had not the Gyaunt soone her succoured;Who all enrag'd with smartand frantick yre,Came hurtling in full fiers, and forst the knight retyre.
The force, which wont in two to be disperst,In one alone left hand he now vnites,Which is through rage more strong then both were erst;With which his hideous club aloft he dites,And at his foe with furious rigor smites,That strongest Oake might seeme to ouerthrow:The stroke vpon his shield so heauie lites,That to the ground it doubleth him full lowWhat mortall wight could euer beare so monstrous blow?
And
