XIII

Yea but (quoth she) the perill of this place
  I better wot then you, though now too late 110
  To wish you backe returne with foule disgrace,
  Yet wisedome warnes, whilest foot is in the gate,
  To stay the steppe, ere forced to retrate. 
  This is the wandring wood,[*] this Errours den,
  A monster vile, whom God and man does hate:  115
  Therefore I read beware.  Fly fly (quoth then
The fearefull Dwarfe) this is no place for living men.

XIV

But full of fire and greedy hardiment,
  The youthfull knight could not for ought be staide,
  But forth unto the darksome hole he went, 120
  And looked in:  his glistring armor made
  A litle glooming light, much like a shade,
  By which he saw the ugly monster[*] plaine,
  Halfe like a serpent horribly displaide,
  But th’other halfe did womans shape retaine, 125
Most lothsom, filthie, foule, and full of vile disdaine.[*]

XV

And as she lay upon the durtie ground,
  Her huge long taile her den all overspred,
  Yet was in knots and many boughtes upwound,
  Pointed with mortall sting.  Of her there bred[*] 130
  A thousand yong ones, which she dayly fed,
  Sucking upon her poisnous dugs, eachone
  Of sundry shapes, yet all ill favored: 
  Soone as that uncouth light upon them shone,
Into her mouth they crept, and suddain all were gone. 135

XVI

Their dam upstart, out of her den effraide,
  And rushed forth, hurling her hideous taile
  About her cursed head, whose folds displaid
  Were stretcht now forth at length without entraile. 
  She lookt about, and seeing one in mayle 140
  Armed to point,[*] sought backe to turne againe;
  For light she hated as the deadly bale,
  Ay wont in desert darknesse to remaine,
Where plain none might her see, nor she see any plaine.

XVII

Which when the valiant Elfe[*] perceiv’d, he lept 145
  As Lyon fierce upon the flying pray,
  And with his trenchand blade her boldly kept
  From turning backe, and forced her to stay: 
  Therewith enrag’d she loudly gan to bray,
  And turning fierce, her speckled taile advaunst, 150
  Threatning her angry sting, him to dismay: 
  Who nought aghast his mightie hand enhaunst: 
The stroke down from her head unto her shoulder glaunst.

XVIII

Much daunted with that dint, her sence was dazd,
  Yet kindling rage, her selfe she gathered round, 155
  And all attonce her beastly body raizd
  With doubled forces high above the ground: 
  Tho wrapping up her wrethed sterne arownd,
  Lept fierce upon his shield, and her huge traine
  All suddenly about his body wound, 160
  That hand or foot to stirre he strove in vaine: 
God helpe the man so wrapt in Errours endlesse traine.