THE FAERIE QUEENE by Edmund Spenser TO The ... - Planet.ee

www.TaleBooks.comAemylia and Amoret, abode,Both in full sad and sorrowfull estate:The one right feeble through the evill rateOf food which in her duresse she had found;The other almost dead and desperateThrough her late hurts, and through that haplesse woundWith which the Squire, in her defence, her sore astound.XX. Whom when the Prince beheld, he gan to rewThe evill case in which those Ladies lay;But most was moved at the piteous vew,Of Amoret, so neare unto decay,That her great daunger did him much dismay.Eftsoones that pretious liquour forth he drew,Which he in store about him kept alway,And with few drops thereof did softly dew,Her wounds, that unto strength restor'd her soone anew.XXI. Tho, when they both recovered were right well,He gan of them inquire, what evill guideThem thether brought, and how their harmes befell?To whom they told all that did them betide,And how from thraldome vile they were untide,Of that same wicked Carle, by Virgins hond;Whose bloudie corse they shew'd him there beside,And eke his cave in which they both were bond:At which he wondred much when all those signes he fond.XXII. And evermore he greatly did desireTo know what Virgin did them thence unbind,And oft of them did earnestly inquire,Where was her won, and how he mote her find.But, when as nought according to his mindHe could out-learne, he them from ground did reare,No service lothsome to a gentle kind,And on his warlike beast them both did beare,Himselfe by them on foot to succour them from feare.XXIII. So when that forrest they had passed well,A litle cotage farre away they spide,To which they drew ere night upon them fell;And entring in found none therein abide,But one old woman sitting there besideUpon the ground in ragged rude attyre,With filthy lockes about her scattered wide,Gnawing her nayles for felnesse and for yre,And there out sucking venime to her parts entyre.XXIV. A foule and loathly creature sure in sight,And in conditions to be loath'd no lesse;For she was stuft with rancour and despightUp to the throat, that oft with bitternesseIt forth would breake, and gush in great excesse,Pouring out streames of poyson and of gallPage 456 , Faerie Queene, The - Edmund Spenser