Ne ought it mote auaile her to entreat xl The one or th’other, better her to vse: For both so wilfull were and obstinate, That all her piteous plaint they did refuse, And rather did the more her beate and bruse. But most the former villaine, which did lead Her tyreling iade, was bent her to abuse; Who though she were with wearinesse nigh dead, Yet would not let her lite, nor rest a little stead. For he was sterne, and terrible by nature, xli And eeke of person huge and hideous, Exceeding much the measure of mans stature, And rather like a Gyant monstruous. For sooth he was descended of the hous Of those old Gyants, which did warres darraine Against the heauen in order battailous, And sib to great _Orgolio_, which was slaine By _Arthure_, when as _Vnas_ Knight he did maintaine. His lookes were dreadfull, and his fiery eies xlii Like two great Beacons, glared bright and wyde, Glauncing askew, as if his enemies He scorned in his ouerweening pryde; And stalking stately like a Crane, did stryde At euery step vppon the tiptoes hie, And all the way he went, on euery syde He gaz’d about, and stared horriblie, As if he with his lookes would all men terrifie. He wore no armour, ne for none did care, xliii As no whit dreading any liuing wight; But in a Iacket quilted richly rare[515] Vpon checklaton he was straungely dight, And on his head a roll of linnen plight, Like to the Mores of Malaber he wore; With which his locks, as blacke as pitchy night, Were bound about, and voyded from before, And in his hand a mighty yron club he bore. This was _Disdaine_, who led that Ladies horse xliv Through thick and thin, through mountains and through plains, Compelling her, wher she would not, by force[516], Haling her palfrey by the hempen raines. But that same foole, which most increast her paines, Was _Scorne_, who hauing in his hand a whip, Her therewith yirks, and still when she complaines, The more he laughes, and does her closely quip, To see her sore lament, and bite her tender lip. Whose cruell handling when that Squire beheld, xlv And saw those villaines her so vildely[517] vse, His gentle heart with indignation sweld, And could no lenger beare so great abuse, As such a Lady so to beate and bruse; But to him stepping, such a stroke him lent, That forst him th’halter from his hand to loose, And maugre all his might, backe to relent: Else had he surely there bene slaine, or fowly shent.