And after him she rode with so much speede viii As her slow beast could make; but all in vaine: For him so far had borne his light-foot steede, Pricked with wrath and fiery fierce disdaine, That him to follow was but fruitlesse paine; Yet she her weary limbes would neuer rest, But euery hill and dale, each wood and plaine Did search, sore grieued in her gentle brest, He so vngently left her, whom she loued[77] best. But subtill _Archimago_ when his guests ix He saw diuided into double parts, And _Vna_ wandring in woods and forrests, Th’end of his drift, he praisd his diuelish arts, That had such might ouer true meaning harts; Yet rests not so, but other meanes doth make, How he may worke vnto her further smarts: For her he hated as the hissing snake, And in her many troubles did most pleasure take. He then deuisde himselfe how to disguise; x For by his mightie science he could take As many formes and shapes in seeming wise, As euer _Proteus_ to himselfe could make: Sometime a fowle, sometime a fish in lake, Now like a foxe, now like a dragon fell, That of himselfe he oft for feare would quake, And oft would flie away. O who can tell The hidden power of herbes, and might of Magicke spell? But now seemde best, the person to put on xi Of that good knight, his late beguiled guest: In mighty armes he was yclad anon[78], And siluer shield[79]: vpon his coward brest A bloudy crosse, and on his crauen crest A bounch of haires[80] discolourd diuersly: Full iolly knight he seemde, and well addrest, And when he sate vpon his courser free, _Saint George_ himself ye would haue deemed him to be. But he the knight, whose semblaunt he did beare, xii The true _Saint George_ was wandred far away, Still flying from his thoughts and gealous feare; Will was his guide, and griefe led him astray. At last him chaunst to meete vpon the way A faithlesse Sarazin all arm’d to point, In whose great shield was writ with letters gay _Sans foy_: full large of limbe and euery ioint He was, and cared not for God or man a point. He had a faire companion of his way, xiii A goodly Lady clad in scarlot red, Purfled with gold and pearle of rich assay, And like a _Persian_ mitre on her hed She wore, with crownes and owches garnished, The which her lauish louers to her gaue; Her wanton palfrey all was ouerspred With tinsell trappings, wouen like a waue, Whose bridle rung with golden bels and bosses braue.