[pas,

The greatest Earth his uncouth mother was,
And blustring olus his boasted syre;
Who with his breath, which through the world doth
Her hollow womb did secretly inspyre,
And fild her hidden caves with stormie yre,
That she conceiv'd; and trebling the dew time,
In which the wombes of wemen do expyre,
Brought forth this monstrous masse of earthly slyme,
Puft up with emptie wynd, and fild with sinfull
cryme.

So growen great, through arrogant delight
Of th' high descent whereof he was yborne,
And through presumption of his matchlesse might,
All other powres and knighthood he did scorne.
Such now he marcheth to this man for'orne,
And left to losse; his stalking.steps are stayde
Upon a snaggy oke, which he had torne
Out of his mothers bowelles, and it made [mayde.
His mortall mace, wherewith his foemen he dis-

That, when the knight he spyde, he gan advaunce
With huge force and insupportable mayne,
And towardes him with dreadfull fury praunce;
Who haplesse, and eke hopelesse, all in vaine
Did to him pace sad battaile to darrayne,
Disarmd, disgraste, and inwardly dismayde;
And eke so faint in every ioynt and vayne,
Through that fraile fountain, which him feeble made,
That scarsely could he weeld his bootlesse single
blade.

The geaunt strooke so maynly mercilesse,
That could have overthrowne a stony towre;
And, were not hevenly grace that did him blesse,
He had beene pouldred all, as thin as flowre;
But he was wary of that deadly stowre,
And I ghtly lept from underneath the blow:
Yet so exceeding was the vlleins powre,
That with the winde it did him overthrow,
And all his sences stoond, that still he lay full low.

As when that divelish yron engin, wrought
In deepest Hell, and framd by Furies skill,
With windy nitre and quick sulphur fraught,
And ramd with bollet rownd, ordaind to kill,
Conceiveth fyre; the Heavens it doth fill
With thundring noyse, and all the ayre doth choke,
That none can breath, nor see, nor heare at will,
Through smouldry cloud of duskish stincking smoke;
That th' only breath him daunts, who hath escapt
the stroke.

So daunted when the geaunt saw the knight,
His heavie hand he heaved up on hye,
And hem to dust thought to have battred quight,
Untill Duessa loud to him gan crye;

"O great Orgoglio, greatest under skye,
O! bold thy mortall hand for ladies sake;
Ho'd for my sak, and doe him not to dye,
But vanqisht thine eternall bonislave make,
And me, thy worthy meed, unto thy leman take."

He hearkned, and did stay from further harmes,
To gayne so goodly guerdon as she spake:

So wingly she came into his armes,
Who her as willingly to grace d d take,
And was possessed of his newfound make.
Then up he tooke the slombred sencelesse corse;
And, ere he could out of his swowne awake,
Him to his castle brought with hastie forse,
And in a dongeon deepe him threw without remoise.

Such one it was, as that renowmed snake
Which great Alcides in Stremona slew,
Whose many heades out-budding ever new
Long fostred in the filth of Lerna lake:
Did breed him endlesse labor to subdew.
But this same monster much more ugly was;
For seven great heads out of his body grew,
And all embrewd in blood his eyes did shine as glas.
An yron brest, and back of scaly bras,

His tayle was stretched out in wondrous length,
That to the hous of hevenly gods it raught;
And with extorted powre, and borrow'd strength,
The everburning lamps from thence it braught,
And prowdly threw to ground, as things of naught;
And underneath his filthy feet did tread
The sacred thinges, and holy heastes foretaught.
Upon this dreadfull beast with sevenfold head
He sett the false Duessa, for more aw and dread.

The wofull dwarfe, which saw his maisters fall,
(Whiles he had keeping of his grasing steed)
And valiant knight become a caytive thrall;
When all was past, tooke up his forlorne weed;
His mightie armour, missing most at need;
His silver shield, now idle, maisterlesse;
His poynant speare, that many made to bleed;
The rueful moniments of heavinesse; [tresse.
And with them all departes, to tell his great dis-

He had not travaild long, when on the way
He wofull lady, wofull Una, met
Fast flying from that Paynims greedy pray,
Whilest Satyrane him from pursuit did let :
Who when her eyes she on the dwarf had set,
And saw the signes that deadly tydinges spake,
She fell to ground for sorrowfull regret,
And lively breath her sad brest did forsake;
Yet might her pitteous hart be seen to pant and
quake.

"O, lightsome Day, the lampe of highest love,
First made by him mens wandring wayes to guyde,
When Darknesse he in deepest dongeon drove;
Henceforth thy hated face for ever hyde,
And shut up Heavens windowes shyning wyde:
For earthly sight can nought but sorrow breed,
And late repentance, which shall long abyde.
Mine eyes no more on vanitie shall fed, [meed."
But, seeled up with death, shall have their deadly

Then downe againe she fell unto the ground;
But he her quickly reared up againe :
Thrise did she sinke adowne in deadly swownd,
And thrise he her rev v'd with busie paine.
At last when L fe recover'd had the raine,
And over-wrestled his strong enimy,
With foltring tong, and trembling everie vaine,
"Tell on," quoth she, "the wofull tragedy,
The which these reliques sad present unto mine eye:

"Tempestuous Fortune hath spent all her spight,
And thrilling Sorrow throwne his utmost dart:
Thy sad tong cannot tell more heavy plight
Then that I feele, and harbour in mine hart:
Who hath endur'd the whole, can beare ech part.
If death it be; it is not the first wound,
That launched hath my brest with bleeding smart.
Begin, and end the bitter balefull stound;

If lesse then that I feare, more favour I have found."

Then gan the dwarfe the whole discourse declare;
The subtile traines of Archimago old;
The wanton loves of false Fidessa fayre,
Bought with the blood of vanquisht Paynim bold;
The wretched payre transformd to treën mould;
The House of Pryde, and perilles round about;
The combat, which he with Sansioy did hould;
The lucklesse conflict with the gyaunt stout,
Wherein captiv'd, of life or death he stood in doubt.

She heard with patience all unto the end;
And strove to maister sorrowful assay,
Which greater grew, the more she did contend,
And almost rent her tender hart in tway;
And love fresh coles unto her. fire did lay:
For greater love, the greater is the losse.
Was never lady loved dearer day

Then she did love the knight of the Redcrosse;
For whose deare sake so many troubles her did tosse.

At last when fervent sorrow slaked was,
She up arose, resolving him to find
Alive or dead; and forward forth doth pas,
All as the dwarfe the way to her assynd;
And evermore, in constant careful! mind,
She fedd her wound with fresh renewed bale:
Long tost with stormes, and bet with bitter wind,
High over hills, and lowe adowne the dale, [vale.
She wandred many a wood, and measurd many a

At last she chaunced by good hap to meet
A goodly knight, faire marching by the way,
Together with his squyre, arrayed meet:
His glitterand armour shined far away,
Like glauncing light of Phoebus brightest ray;
From top to toe no place appeared bare,
That deadly dint of steele endanger may :
Athwart his brest a bauldrick brave he ware,
That shind, like twinkling stars, with stones most
pretious rare:

And, in the midst thereof, one pretions stone
Of wondrous worth, and eke of wondrous mights,
Shapt like a ladies head, exceeding shone,
Like Hesperus emongst the lesser lights,
And strove for to amaze the weaker sights:
Thereby his mortall blade full comely hong
In yvory sheath, ycarv'd with curious slights,
Whose hilts were burnisht gold; and handle strong
Of mother perle; and buckled with a golden tong.

His haughtie helmet, horrid all with gold,
Both glorious brightnesse and great terrour bredd:
For all the crest a dragon did enfold

With greedie pawes, and over all did spredd
His golden winges; his dreadfull hideous bedd,
Close couched on the bever, seemd to throw
From flaming mouth bright sparckles fiery redd,
That suddeine horrour to faint hartes did show;
And scaly tayle was stretcht adowne his back full
low.

Upon the top of all his loftie crest,

A bounch of heares discolourd diversly,
With sprincled pearle and gold full richly drest,
Did shake, and seemd to daunce for iollity;
Like to an almond tree ymounted hye
On top of greene Selinis all alone,
With blossoms brave bedecked daintily;
Whose tender locks do tremble every one
At everie little breath, that under Heaven is blowne.
His warlike shield all closely cover'd was,
Ne might of mortall eye be ever seene;
Not made of steele, nor of enduring bras,
(Such earthly mettals soon consumed beene)
But all of diamond perfect pure and cleene
It framed was, one massy éntire mould,
Hew'n out of adamant rocke with engines keene,
That point of speare it never percen could,

Ne dint of direfull sword divide the substance would.

The same to wight he never wont disclose,
But whenas monsters huge he would dismay,
Or daunt unequall armies of his foes,

Or when the flying Heavens he would affray :
For so exceeding shone his glistring ray,
That Phoebus golden face it did attaint,
As when a cloud his beames both over-lay;
And silver Cynthia wexed pale and faynt, [straint.
As when her face is staynd with magicke arts con-

No magicke arts hereof had any might,
Nor bloody wordes of bold enchanters call;
But all that was not such as seemd in sight
Before that shield did fade, and suddeine fall:
And, when him list the raskall routes appall,
Men into stones therewith he could transmew,
And stones to dust, and dust to nought at all:
And, when him list the prouder lookes subdew,
He would them gazing blind, or turne to other hew.

Ne let it seeme that credence this exceedes;
For he, that made the same, was knowne right well
To have done much more admirable deedes:
It Merlin was, which whylome did excell
All living wightes in might of magicke spell:
Both shield, and sword, and armour all he wrought
For this young prince, when first to armes he fell;
But, when he dyde, the Faery queene it brought
To Faerie lond; where yet it may be seene, if sought.

A gentle youth, his dearely loved squire,
His speare of heben wood behind him bare,
Whose harmeful head, thrise heated in the fire,
Had riven many a brest with pikehead square;
A goodly person, and could menage faire
His stubborne steed with curbed canon bitt,
Who under him did trample as the aire,
And chauft, that any on his backe should sitt ;
The yron rowels into frothy fome he bitt.

Whenas this knight nigh to the lady drew,
With lovely court he gan her entertaine;
But, when he heard her aunswers loth, he knew
Some secret sorrow did her heart distraine:
Which to allay, and calme ber storming paine,
Faire feeling words he wisely gan display,
Aud, for her humor fitting purpose faine,
To tempt the cause it selfe for to bewray; [to say;
Wherewith enmovd, these bleeding words she gan
"What worlds delight, or ioy of living speach,
Can hart, so plangd in sea of sorrowes deep,
And heaped with so huge misfortunes, reach?
The carefull Cold beginneth for to creep,
And in my heart his yron arrow steep,
Soone as I thinke upon my bitter bale.
Such helplesse harmes yts better hidden keep,
Then rip up griefe, where it may not availe;
My last left comfort is my woes to weepe and waile."
"Ah, lady deare," quoth then the gentle knight,
"Well may I ween your griefe is wondrous great;
For wondrous great griefe groneth in my spright,
Whi'es thus I heare you of your sorrowes treat.
But, woefull lady, let me you intrete
For to unfold the anguish of your hart:
Mishaps are maistred by advice discrete,
And counsell mitigates the greatest smart;
Found never help, who never would his hurts impart."
"O! but," quoth she, "great griefe will not betould,
And can more easily be thought then said."
"Right so," quoth he; "but he, that never would,
Could never will to might gives greatest aid."
"But griefe," quoth she, "does greater grow dis-
plaid,

If then it find not helpe, and breeds despaire."
"Despaire breeds not," quoth he, "where faith is
staid."
[paire.'

"No faith so fast," quoth she, "but flesh does "Flesh may empaire," quoth he, "but reason can repaire."

His goodly reason, and well-guided speach,
So deepe did settle in her gracious thought,
That her perswaded to disclose the breach
Which love and fortune in her heart had wrought;
And said, "Faire sir, I hope good hap hath brought
You to inquere the secrets of my griefe;
Or that your wisdome will direct my thought;
Or that your prowesse can me yield reliefe; [briefe.
Then heare the story sad, which I shall tell you
"The forlorne maiden, whom your eies have seene
The laughing stocke of Fortunes mockeries,
Am th' onely daughter of a king and queene,
Whose parents deare (whiles equa! destinies
Did ronne about, and their felicities
The favourable Heavens did not envy)
Did spred their rule through all the territories,
Which Phison and Euphrates floweth by,

And Gehons golden waves doe wash continually:

1

"Till that their cruell cursed enemy,
An huge great dragon, horrible in sight,
Bred in the loathly lakes of Tartary,
With murdrous ravine, and devouring might,
Their kingdome spoild, and countrey wasted quight:
Themselves, for feare into his iawes to fall,
He forst to castle strong to take their flight;
Where, fast embard in mighty brasen wall, [thrall.
He has them now fowr years besiegd to make them

"Full many knights, adventurous and stout,
Have enterpriz'd that monster to subdew:
From every coast, that Heaven walks about,
Have thither come the noble martial crew,
That famous harde atchievements still pursew;
Yet never any could that girlond win,
But all still shronke; and still he greater grew;
All they for want of faith, or guilt of sin,
The pitteous pray of his fiers cruelty have bin.

"At last, yled with far reported praise,
Which flying fame throughout the world had spred,
Of doughty knights, whom Fary land did raise,
That noble order hight of Maidenhed,
Forthwith to court of Gloriane I sped,
Of Gloriane, great queene of glory bright,
Whose kingdomes seat Cleopolis is red;
There to obtaine some such redoubted knight,
That parents deare from tyrants powre deliver might.

"Yt was my chaunce (my chaunce was faire and There for to find a fresh unproved knight; [good) Whose manly hands imbrewd in guilty blood

Had never beene, ne ever by his might
Had throwne to ground the unregarded right:
Yet of his prowesse proofe he since hath made
(I witnes am) in many a cruell fight;
The groning ghosts of many one dismaide
Have felt the bitter dint of his avenging blade.

"And ye, the forlorne reliques of his powre,
His biting Sword, and his devouring Speare,
Which have endured many a dreadfull stowre,
Can speake his prowesse, that did earst you beare,
And well could rule; now he hath left you heare
To be the record of his ruefull losse,
And of my dolefull disaventurous deare:
O heavie record of the good Redcrosse,
Where have ye left your lord, that could so well
you tosse?

"Well hoped I, and faire beginnings had,
That he my captive languor should redeeme:
Till all unweeting an enchaunter bad
His sence abusd, and made him to misdeeme
My loyalty, not such as it did seeme,
That rather death desire then such despight.
Be iudge, ye Heavens, that all things right esteeme,
How I him lov'd, and love with all my might!
So thought I eke of him, and think I thought aright.

"Thenceforth me desolate he quite forsooke,
To wander, where wilde Fortune would me lead,
And other bywaies he himselfe betooke,
Where never foote of living wight did tread,
That brought not backe the balefull body dead;
In which him chaunced false Duessa meete,
Mine onely foe, mine onely deadly dread;
Who with her witchcraft, and misseeming sweete,
Inveigled him to follow her desires unmeete.

"At last, by subtile sleights she him betraid
Unto his foe, a gyaunt huge and tall;
Who him disarmed, dissolute, dismaid,
Unwares surprised, and with mighty mall
The monster mercilesse him made to fall,
Whose fall did never foe before behold:
And now in darkesome dungeon, wretched thrall,
Remédilesse, for aie he doth him hold: [told."
This is my cause of griefe, more great then may be

Ere she had ended all, she gan to faint:
But he her comforted, and faire bespake;
"Certes, madáme, ye have great cause of plaint,
That stoutest heart, I weene, could cause to quake.
But be of cheare, and comfort to you take;
For, till I have acquit your captive knight,
Assure your selfe, I will you not forsake."
His chearefull words reviv'd her chearelesse spright:
So forth they went, the dwarfe them guiding ever
right.

CANTO VIII.

Faire virgin, to redeeme her deare,
Brings Arthure to the fight:

Who slayes the gyaunt, wounds the beast,
And strips Duessa quight.

Ay me, how many perils doe enfold

The righteous man, to make him daily fall,
Were not that heavenly grace doth him uphold,
And stedfast Truth acquite him out of all!
Her love is firme, her care continuall,
So oft as he, through his own foolish pride
Or weaknes, is to sinfull bands made thrall:
Els should this redcrosse knight in bands have dyde,
For whose deliverance she this prince doth thether
guyd.

They sadly traveild thus, untill they came
Nigh to a castle builded strong and hye:
Then cryde the dwarfe, "Lo! yonder is the same,
In which my lord, my liege, doth lucklesse ly
Thrall to that gyaunts hatefull tyranny:
Therefore, deare şir, your mightie powres assay."
The noble knight alighted by and by
From loftie steed, and badd the ladie stay,

To see what end of fight should him befall that day.

So with his squire, th' admirer of his might,
He marched forth towardes that castle wall;
Whose gates he fownd fast shutt, ne living wight
To warde the same, nor answere commers call.
Then tooke that squire an horne of bugle smail,
Which hong adowne his side in twisted gold
And tasselles gay; wyde wonders over all
Of that same hornes great vertues weren told,
Which had approved bene in uses manifold.

Was never wight that heard that shrilling sownd,
But trembling feare did feel in every vaine:
Three miles it might be easy heard arownd,
And ecchoes three aunswer'd it selfe againe:
No faulse enchantment, nor deceiptfull traine,
Might once abide the terror of that blast,
But presently was void and wholly vaine:
No gate so strong, no locke so firme and fast,
But with that percing noise flew open quite, or brast.

The same before the geaunts gate he blew,
That all the castle quaked from the grownd,
And every dore of free-will open flew.
The gyaunt selfe dismaied with that sownd,
Where be with his Duessa dalliaunce fownd,
In hast came rushing forth from inner bowre,
With staring countenance sterne, as one astownd,
And staggering steps, to weet what sudden stowre
Had wrought that horror strange, and dar'd his
dreaded powre.

And after him the proud Duessa came,
High mounted on her many-headed beast;
And every head with fyrie tongue did flame,
And every head was crowned on bis creast,
And bloody mouthed with late cruell feast.
That when the knight bebeld, his mightie shild
Upon his manly arme he soone addrest,
And at him fiersly flew, with corage fild,
And eger greedinesse through every member thrild.
Therewith the gyaunt buckled him to fight,
Inflamd with scornefull wrath and high disdaine,
And lifting up his dreadfull club on hight,
All armd with ragged snubbes and knottie graine,
Him thought at first encounter to have slaine.
But wise and wary was that noble pere;
And, lightly leaping from so monstrous maine,
Did fayre avoide the violence him nere; [beare;
It booted nought to thinke such thunderbolts to
Ne shame he thought to shonne so hideous might:
The ydle stroke, enforcing furious way,
Missing the marke of his misay med sight,
Did fall to ground, and with his heavy sway
So deepely dinted in the driven clay,
That three yardes deepe a furrow up did throw:
The sad earth, wounded with so sore assay,
Did grone full grievous underneath the blow;
And, trembling with strange feare, did like an erth-
quake show.

As when almightic love, in wrathfull mood,
To wreake the guilt of mortall sins is bent,
Hurles forth his thundring dart with deadly food,
Enrold in flames, and smouldring dreriment,
Through riven cloudes and molten firmament;
Both loftie towres and highest trees hath rent,
The fiers threeforked engin, making way,
And all that might his angry passage stay; [clay.
And, shooting in the earth, castes up a mount of
His boystrous club, so buried in the grownd,
He could not rearen up againe so light,
But that the knight him at advantage fownd;
And, whiles he strove his combred clubbe to quight
Out of the earth, with blade all burning bright
He smott off his left arme, which like a block
Did fall to ground, depriv'd of native might;
Large streames of blood out of the truncked stock
Forth gushed, like fresh-water streame from riven
rocke.

Dismayed with so desperate deadly wound,
And eke impatient of unwonted payne,
He lowdly brayd with beastly yelling sownd,
That all the fieldes rebellowed againe:
As great a noyse, as when in Cymbrian plaine
An heard of bulles, whom kindly rage doth sting,
Doe for the milky mothers want complaine,
And fill the fieldes with troublous bellowing: [ring.
The neighbor woods arownd with hollow murmur

That when his deare Duessa heard, and saw
The evil stownd that daungerd her estate,
Unto his aide she hastily did draw

Her dreadfull beast; who, swo'ne with blood of late,
Came ramping forth with proud presumpteous gate,
And threatned all his heades like flaming brandes.
But him the squire made quickly to retrate,
Encountring fiers with single sword in hand;
And twixt him and his lord did like a bulwarke stand.

The proud Duessa, full of wrathfull spight
And fiers disdaine, to be affronted so,
Enforst her purple beast with all her might,
That stop out of the way to overthrce,
Scorn ng the let of so unequall foe:
But nathëmore would that corageous swayne
To her yeeld passage, gainst his lord to goe;
But with outrageous strokes did him restraine,
And with his body bard the way atwixt them twaine.

Then tooke the angry witch her golden cup,
Which still she bore, replete with magick artes;
Death and despeyre did many thereof sup,
And secret poyson through their inner partes;
Th' eternall bale of heavie wounded harts:
Which, after charmes and some enchauntments said,
She lightly sprinkled on his weaker partes:
Therewith his sturdie corage soon was quayd,
And all his sences were with suddein dread dismayd.

So downe he fell before the cruell beast,
Who on his neck his bloody clawes did seize,
That life nigh crushit out of his panting brest:
No powre he had to stirre, nor will to rize.
That when the carefull knight gan well avise,
He lightly left the foe with whom he fought,
And to the beast gan turne his enterprise;
For wondrous anguish in his hart it wrought,
To see his loved squyre into such thraldom brought:

And, high advauncing his blood-thirstie blade,
Stroke one of those deformed heades so sore,
That of his puissaunce proud ensample made;
His monstrous scalpe down to his teeth it tore,
And that misformed shape misshaped more:
A sea of blood gusht from the gaping wownd,
That her gay garments staynd with filthy gore,
And overflowed all the field arownd;

That over shoes in blood he waded on the grownd.

Thereat he rored for exceeding paine,

That, to have heard, great horror would have bred;
And scourging th' emptie ayre with his long trayne,
Through great impatience of his grieved hed,
His gorgeous ryder from her loftie sted
Would have cast downe, and trodd in durty myre,
Had not the gyaunt soone her succouved;
Who, all enrag'd with smart and frantick yre, [tyre.
Came hurtling in full fiers, and forst the knight re-

The force, which wont in two to be disperst,
In one alone left hand he now unites, [erst;
Which is through rage more strong than both were
With which his hideous club aloft he dites,
And at his foe with furious rigor smites,
That strongest oake might seeme to overthrow:
The stroke upon his shield so heavie lites,
That to the ground it doubleth him full low:-
What mortall wight could ever beare so monstrous
blow?

And eke the fruitfull-headed beast, amazd
At flashing beames of that sunshiny shield,
Became stark blind, and all his sences dazd,
That downe he tumbled on the durtie field,
And seemd himselfe as conquered to yield.
Whom when his maistresse proud perceiv'd to fall,
Whiles yet his feeble feet for faintnesse reeld,
Unto the gyaunt lowdly she gan call;
"O! helpe, Orgoglio; helpe, or els we perish all."

At her so pitteous cry was much amoov'd
Her champion stout; and, for to ayde his frend,
Againe his wonted angry weapon proov'd,
But all in vaine; for he has redd his end
In that bright shield, and all their forces spend
Themselves in vaine: for, since that glauncing sight,
He hath no powie to hurt, nor to defend.

As where th' Almighties lightning brond does light, It dimmes the dazed eyen, and daunts the sences quight.

Whom when the prince, to batteill new addrest
And threatning high his dreadfull stroke, did see,
His sparkling blade about his head he blest,
And smote off quite his left leg by the knee,
That downe he tombled; as an aged tree,
High growing on the top of rocky clift,
Whose hart-strings with keene steele nigh hewen be;
The mightie trunck halfe rent with ragged rift
Doth roll adowne the rocks, and fall with fearefull
drift.

Or as a castle, reared high and round,
By subtile engins and malitious slight
Is undermined from the lowest ground,
And her foundation forst, and feebled quight,
At last downe falls; and with her heaped hight
Her hastie ruine does more heavie make,
And yields it selfe unto the victours might:
Such was this gyaunts fall, that seemd to shake
The stedfast globe of Earth, as it for feare did quake.
The knight then, lightly leaping to the pray,
With mortall steele him smot againe so sore,
That headlesse his unweldy bodie lay,
All wallowd in his owne fowle bloody gore,
Which flowed from his wounds in wondrous store.
But, soone as breath out of his brest did pas,
That huge great body, which the gyaunt bore,
Was vanisht quite; and of that monstrous mas
Was nothing left, but like an emptie blader was.

Whose grievous fall when false Duessa spyde,
Her golden cup she cast unto the ground,
And crowned mitre rudely threw asyde:
Such percing griefe her stubborne hart did wound,
That she could not endure that dolefull stound;
But, leaving all behind her, fled away:
The light-foot squire her quickly turnd around,
And, by hard meanes enforcing her to stay,
So brought unto his lord, as his deserved pray.