Selected quad for the lemma: end_n
Text snippets containing the quad
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A12778
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The faerie queene Disposed into twelue bookes, fashioning XII. morall vertues.
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Spenser, Edmund, 1552?-1599.
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1596
(1596)
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STC 23082; ESTC S117748
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537,247
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1,116
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He wearie woxe and backe return'd againe With speede vnto the place whereas he last Had left that couple nere their vtmost cast There he that knight full sorely bleeding found And eke the Ladie fearefully aghast Both for the perill of the present stound And also for the sharpnesse of her rankling wound For though she were right glad so rid to bee From that vile lozell which her late offended Yet now no lesse encombrance she did see And perill by this saluage man pretended Gainst whom she saw no meanes to be defended By reason that her knight was wounded sore Therefore her selfe she wholy recommended To Gods sole grace whom she did oft implore To send her succour being of all hope forlore But the wyld man contrarie to her feare Came to her creeping like a fawning hound And by rude tokens made to her appeare His deepe compassion of her dolefull stound Kissing his hands and crouching to the ground For other language had he none nor speach But a soft murmure and confused sound Of senselesse words which nature did him teach T' expresse his passions which his reason did empeach And comming likewise to the wounded knight When he beheld the streames of purple blood Yet flowing fresh as moued with the sight He made great mone after his saluage mood And running streight into the thickest wood A certaine herbe from thence vnto him brought Whose vertue he by vse well vnderstood The iuyce whereof into his wound he wrought And stopt the bleeding straight ere he it staunched thought Then taking vp that Recreants shield and speare Which earst he left he signes vnto them made With him to wend vnto his wonning neare To which he easily did them perswade Farre in the forrest by a hollow glade Couered with mossie shrubs which spredding brode Did vnderneath them make a gloomy shade There foot of liuing creature neuer trode Ne scarse wyld beasts durst come there was this wights abode Thether he brought these vnacquainted guests To whom faire semblance as he could he shewed By signes by lookes and all his other gests But the bare ground with hoarie mosse bestrowed Must be their bed their pillow was vnsowed And the frutes of the forrest was their feast For their bad Stuard neither plough'd nor sowed Ne fed on flesh ne euer of wyld beast Did taste the bloud obaying natures first beheast Yet howsoeuer base and meane it were They tooke it well and thanked God for all Which had them freed from that deadly feare And sau'd from being to that caytiue thrall Here they of force as fortune now did fall Compelled were themselues a while to rest Glad of that easement though it were but small That hauing there their wounds awhile redrest They mote the abler be to passe vnto the rest During which time that wyld man did apply His best endeuour and his daily paine In seeking all the woods both farre and nye For herbes to dresse their wounds still seeming faine When ought he did that did their lyking gaine So as ere long he had that knightes wound Recured well and made him whole againe But that same Ladies hurts no herbe he found Which could redresse for it was inwardly vnsound Now when as Calepine was woxen strong Vpon a day he cast abrode to wend To take the ayre and heare the thrushes song Vnarm'd as fearing neither foe nor frend And without sword his person to defend There him befell vnlooked for before An hard aduenture with vnhappie end A cruell Beare the which an infant bore Betwixt his bloodie iawes besprinckled all with gore The litle babe did loudly scrike and squall And all the woods with piteous plaints did fill As if his cry did meane for helpe to call To Calepine whose eares those shrieches shrill Percing his hart with pities point did thrill That after him he ran with zealous haste To rescue th'infant ere he did him kill Whom though he saw now somewhat ouerpast Yet by the cry he follow'd and pursewed fast Well then him chaunst his heauy armes to want Whose burden mote empeach his needfull speed And hinder him from libertie to pant For hauing long time as his daily weed Them wont to weare and wend on foot for need Now wanting them he felt himselfe so light That like an Hauke which feeling her selfe freed From bels and iesses which did let her flight Him seem'd his feet did fly and in their speed delight So well he sped him that the wearie Beare Ere long he ouertooke and forst to stay And without weapon him assayling neare Compeld him soone the spoyle adowne to lay Wherewith the beast enrag'd to loose his pray Vpon him turned and with greedie force And furie to be crossed in his way Gaping full wyde did thinke without remorse To be aueng'd on him and to deuoure his corse But the bold knight no whit thereat dismayd But catching vp in hand a ragged stone Which lay thereby so fortune him did ayde Vpon him ran and thrust it all attone Into his gaping throte that made him grone And gaspe for breath that he nigh choked was Being vnable to digest that bone Ne could it vpward come nor downward passe Ne could he brooke the coldnesse of the stony masse Whom when as he thus combred did behold Stryuing in vaine that nigh his bowels brast He with him closd and laying mightie hold Vpon his throte did gripe his gorge so fast That wanting breath him downe to ground he cast And then oppressing him with vrgent paine Ere long enforst to breath his vtmost blast Gnashing his cruell teeth at him in vaine And threatning his sharpe clawes now wanting powre to straine Then tooke he vp betwixt his armes twaine The litle babe sweet relickes of his pray Whom pitying to heare so sore complaine From his soft eyes the teares he wypt away And from his face the filth that did it ray And euery litle limbe he searcht around And euery part that vnder sweathbands lay Least that the beasts sharpe teeth had any wound Made in his tender flesh but whole them all he found So hauing all his bands againe vptyde He with him thought backe to returne againe But when he lookt about on euery syde To weet which way were best to entertaine To bring him to the place where he would faine He could no path nor tract of foot descry Ne by inquirie learne nor ghesse by ayme For nought but woods and forrests farre and nye That all about did close the compasse of his eye Much was he then encombred ne could tell Which way to take now West he went a while Then North then neither but as fortune fell So vp and downe he wandred many a mile With wearie trauell and vncertaine toile Yet nought the nearer to his iourneys end And euermore his louely litle spoile Crying for food did greatly him offend So all that day in wandring vainely he did spend At last about the setting of the Sunne Him selfe out of the forest he did