SOUGHT is there under heav'ns wide hollowneffe,
That moves more deare compaffion of
Then beautie brought t'unworthie
Through envies fnares, or fortunes freakes unkind. I, whether lately through her brightnes blynd, Or through alleageance, and faft fëalty, Which I do owe unto all womankynd, Feele my hart perft with fo great agony, When fuch I fee, that all for pitty I could dy.
And now it is empaffioned fo deepe,
For faireft Unaes fake, of whom I fing,
That my frayle eies thefe lines with teares do fteepe, To thinke how she through guyleful handeling, Though true as touch, though daughter of a king, Though faire as ever living wight was fayre,
Though nor in word nor deede ill meriting,
Is from her knight divorced in defpayre,
And her dew loves deryv'd to that vile witches fhayre. 3..
Yet fhe, most faithfull Ladie, all this while
Forfaken, wofull, folitarie mayd,
Far from all peoples preace," as in exile,
In wilderneffe and waftfull deferts ftrayd,
To feeke her knight; who, fubtily betrayd
Through that late vifion which th' Enchaunter wrought,
Had her abandond. She, of nought affrayd,
Through woods and waftnes wide him daily fought; Yet wished tydinges none of him unto her brought.
One day, nigh wearie of the yrkefome way,
From her unhaftie beaft fhe did alight;
And on the graffe her dainty limbs did lay
In fecrete fhadow, far from all mens fight:
From her fayre head her fillet fhe undight,
And layd her stole afide. Her angels face,
As the great eye of heaven, fhyned bright,
And made a funfhine in the fhady place;
Did never mortall behold fuch heavenly grace.
It fortuned, out of the thickest wood
A ramping Lyon rushed fuddeinly,
Hunting full greedy after falvage blood.
Soone as the royall virgin he did spy,
With gaping mouth at her ran greedily,
To have attonce devourd her tender corfe;
But to the pray when as he drew more ny,
His bloody rage afwaged with remorse,
a Far from all peoples preace.] Prefs or crowd. So Chaucer, “Wif of Bathes Prol." 6104. ed. Tyrwhitt :
"Great prees at market maketh dere ware." TODD.
And, with the sight amazd, forgat his furious forse.
In ftead thereof he kift her wearie feet,
And lickt her lilly hands with fawning tong,
As he her wronged innocence did weet.
O, how can beautie maister the most strong,
And fimple truth fubdue avenging wrong!
Whose yielded pryde and proud submission,
Still dreading death, when she had marked long,
Her hart gan melt in great compaffion;
And drizling teares did shed for pure affection.
"The Lyon, Lord of everie beast in field,”
Quoth fhe, "his princely puiffance doth abate,
And mightie proud to humble weake does yield,
Forgetfull of the hungry rage, which late
Him prickt, in pittie of my fad estate :
But he, my Lyon, and my noble Lord,
How does he find in cruell hart to hate
Her, that him lov'd, and ever most adord
As the God of my life? why hath he me abhord?"
Redounding teares did choke' th' end of her plaint,
Which foftly ecchoed from the neighbour wood
And, fad to see her forrowfull constraint,
The kingly beaft upon her gazing stood:
With pittie calmd downe fell his angry mood.
At laft, in close hart shutting up her payne,
Arofe the virgin, borne of heavenly brood,
And to her fnowy Palfrey got agayne,
To feeke her ftrayed Champion if she might attayne.
b Redounding teares did choke.] Here "redounding" is ufed for overflowing, redundant; but in the paffage quoted by Richardfon, from Lord Berner's "Froifart," (I. c. 185) it means refounding, for he speaks of the clattering of armour heard in a neighbouring abbey. C.
The Lyon would not leave her defolate,
But with her went along, as a ftrong gard
Of her chaft person, and a faythfull mate
Of her fad troubles and misfortunes hard:
Still, when she flept, he kept both watch and ward;
And, when the wakt, he wayted diligent,
With humble fervice to her will prepard:
From her fayre eyes he tooke commandement,
And ever by her lookes conceived her intent.
Long the thus traveiled through deferts wyde,
By which she thought her wandring knight shold pas,
Yet never fhew of living wight efpyde;
Till that at length fhe found the troden gras,
In which the tract of peoples footing was,
Under the steepe foot of a mountaine hore:
The fame fhe followes, till at last she has
A damzel spyde, flow footing her before,
That on her shoulders fad a pot of water bore.
To whom approching fhe to her gan call,
To weet if dwelling place were nigh at hand;
But the rude wench her answerd nought at all:
She could not heare, nor speake, nor understand;
Till, feeing by her fide the Lyon stand,
With fuddeine feare her pitcher downe she threw,
And fled away for never in that land
Face of fayre Lady fhe before did vew,
And that dredd Lyons looke her cast in deadly hew.
And fled away.] After having told us, that, seeing the lion stand by her, fhe fled away for fear, he adds, that this was because she had never seen a lady before, which certainly was no reason why she should fly from the lion. What our author intended to express here, was, that "at feeing the lion, and fo beautiful a lady, an object never seen before in that country, fhe was affrighted, and fled." T. Warton.
Full faft she fled, ne ever lookt behynd,
As if her life upon the wager lay;
And home she came, whereas her mother blynd
Sate in eternall night: nought could she say;
But, fuddeine catching hold, did her difmay
With quaking hands, and other fignes of feare:
Who, full of ghaftly fright and cold affray,
Gan fhut the dore. By this arrived there
Dame Una, weary Dame, and entrance did requere :
13.
Which when none yielded, her unruly Page
With his rude clawes the wicket open rent,
And let her in; where, of his cruell rage
Nigh dead with feare, and faint astonishment,
Shee found them both in darkfome corner pent;
Where that old woman day and night did pray
Upon her beads, devoutly penitent:
Nine hundred Pater nofters every day,
And thrife nine hundred Aves fhe was wont to say.
And to augment her painefull penaunce more,
Thrife every weeke in afhes fhee did fitt,
And next her wrinkled fkin rough fackecloth wore,
And thrife three times did faft from any bitt;
But now, for feare her beads fhe did forgett:
Whose needleffe dread for to remove away,
Faire Una framed words and count'naunce fitt;
Which hardly doen, at length she gan them pray,
That in their cotage small that night she rest her may.
15.
The day is spent; and commeth drowfie night,
When every creature fhrowded is in fleepe.
Sad Una downe her laies in weary plight,
And at her feete the Lyon watch doth keepe:
|