92
The first Booke of
Cant. VII.
The greatest Earth his vncouth mother was,And blustring AEolus his boasted syre,Who with his breath, which through the world doth pas,Her hollow womb did secretly inspyre,And fild her hidden caues with stormie yre,That she conceiu'd; and trebling the dew time,In which the wombes of wemen doe expyre,Brought forth this monstrous masse of earthly slyme,Puft vp with emptie wynd, and fild with sinfull cryme.
So growen great through arrogant delightOf th'high descent, whereof he was yborne,And through presumption of his matchlesse might,All other powres and knighthood he did scorne.Such now he marcheth to this man forlorne,And left to losse: his stalking steps are staydeVpon a snaggy Oke, which he had torneOut of his mothers bowelles, and it madeHis mortall mace, wherewith his foemen he dismayde.
That when the knight he spyde, he gan aduaunceWith huge force and insupportable mayne,And towardes him with dreadfull fury praunce;Who haplesse, and eke hopelesse; all in vaineDid to him pace, sad battaile to darrayne,Disarmd, disgraste, and inwardly dismayde,And eke so faint in euery ioynt and vayne,Through that fraile foūtain, which him feeble made,That scarsely could he weeld his bootlesse single blade.
The Geaunt strooke so maynly mercilesse,That could haue ouerthrowne a stony towre,And were not heuenly grace, that him did blesse,He had beene pouldred all, as thin as flowre:
But
