These two now had themselues combynd in one, xxxvii And linckt together gainst Sir _Artegall_, For whom they wayted as his mortall fone, How they might make him into mischiefe fall, For freeing from their snares _Irena_ thrall, Besides vnto themselues they gotten had A monster, which the _Blatant beast_ men call, A dreadfull feend of gods and men ydrad, Whom they by slights allur’d, and to their purpose lad. Such were these Hags, and so vnhandsome drest: xxxviii Who when they nigh approching, had espyde Sir _Artegall_ return’d from his late quest, They both arose, and at him loudly cryde, As it had bene two shepheards curres, had scryde A rauenous Wolfe amongst the scattered flockes. And _Enuie_ first, as she that first him eyde, Towardes him runs, and with rude flaring lockes About her eares, does beat her brest, and forhead knockes. Then from her mouth the gobbet she does take, xxxix The which whyleare she was so greedily Deuouring, euen that halfe-gnawen snake, And at him throwes it most despightfully. The cursed Serpent, though she hungrily Earst chawd thereon, yet was not all so dead, But that some life remayned secretly, And as he past afore withouten dread, Bit him behind, that long the marke was to be read. Then th’other comming neare, gan him reuile, xl And fouly rayle, with all she could inuent; Saying, that he had with vnmanly guile, And foule abusion both his honour blent, And that bright sword, the sword of Iustice lent,[396] Had stayned with reprochfull crueltie, In guiltlesse blood of many an innocent: As for _Grandtorto_, him with treacherie And traynes hauing surpriz’d, he fouly did to die. Thereto the Blatant beast by them set on xli At him began aloud to barke and bay, With bitter rage and fell contention, That all the woods and rockes nigh to that way, Began to quake and tremble with dismay; And all the aire rebellowed againe. So dreadfully his hundred tongues did bray, And euermore those hags them selues did paine, To sharpen him, and their owne cursed tongs did straine. And still among most bitter wordes they spake, xlii Most shamefull, most vnrighteous, most vntrew, That they the mildest man aliue would make Forget his patience, and yeeld vengeaunce dew To her, that so false sclaunders[397] at him threw. And more to make them pierce and wound more deepe, She with the sting, which in her vile tongue grew, Did sharpen them, and in fresh poyson steepe: Yet he past on, and seem’d of them to take no keepe.