"With thought wherof, exceeding mad he grew,
And in his rage his mother would have slaine,"
There's only one way to solve this problem = Black Magic Sex Golem.
"The substance, whereof she the bodie made,
Was purest snow in massie mould congealed,
In stead of eyes two burning lampes she set
In silver sockets, shyning like the skyes,
And a quicke moving Spirit did arret
To stirre and roll them, like a womans eyes;
In stead of yellow lockes she did devise,
With golden wire to weave her curled head;
Yet golden wire was not so yellow thrise
As Florimells faire haire: and in the stead
Of life, she put a Spright to rule the carkasse dead."
This particular Spright is actually male, and apparently used to hang out with Lucifer; "Which with the Prince of Darkness fell somewhile," and "in counterfeisance did excell"
The churlish son is happy with fake Florimell, who, like the real Florimell, still won't bone him, but they go wandering about in the forest....
"Till on a day, as he disposed was
To walke the woods with the his Idole faire,
Her to disport, and idle time to pas,
In th'open freshnesse of the gentle aire,
A knight that way there chaunced to repaire;
Yet knight he was not, but a boastfull swaine,
That deedes of armes had ever in despaire,
Proud Braggadocchio, that in vaunting vaine
His glory did repose, and credit did maintaine."
Braggadoccio takes the fake Florimell and is very happy with himeself, until they come upon another, un-named knight who;
".......... looked grim,
And fain'd to cheare his Ladie in dismay;
Who seem'd for feare to quake in evry lim,
And her to save from outrage, meekly prayed him."
Braggadoccio talks a good game;
"Sith then (said Braggadoccio) needes thou wilt
Thy dayes abridge, through proofe of pussiance,
Turne we our steedes, that both in equall tilet
Mey meet againe, and each take happie chance.
This said, they both a furlongs mountenance
Retyrd their steeds, to ronne in even race:
But Braggadoccio with his bloudie lance
Once having turnd, no more returned his face,
But lefte his love to losse, and fled himself apace."
Braggadocio, he's not here for many verses but when he is he damn well delivers.
The knight makes off hapily with False Florimell and we turn back to Real Flormiell in the fishermans boat. Guess what's about to happen with the sleeping Fisherman.
"At last when dronke with drowsinesse, he woke,"
aaand, three verses later;
"The sight whereof in his congealed flesh,
Infixt such secret sting of greedly lust,
That the drie withered stocke ot gan refresh,
And kindled heat, that soone in flame forth brust:
The driest wood is soonest burnt to dust.
Rudely to her he lept, and his rough hand
Where ill became him. rashly would have thrust,
But she with angry scorne him did withstond,
And shamefully reproved for his rudenesse fond."
The best Florimell can do is call out to her knights and admonish them for not currently being at-sea;
"O ye brave knight, that boast this Ladies love,
Where be ye now, when she is nigh defild
Of filthy wretch?"
Somewhere on land, looking for you.
Luckily, in as much as anything that happens to Florimell is lucky, Proteus the shape-changing sea-shepheard is about; 'Along the fomy waves driving his finny drove', and he does hear Florimell;
"Her up betwixt his rugged hands he reard,
And with his frory lips full softly kist,
Whiles the cold ysickles from his rough beard,
Dropped adowne upon her yvorie brest:
Yet he himself so builsily addrest,
That her out of astonishment he wrought,
And out of that same fishers filthy nest
Revoving her, into his charet brought,
And there with gentle terms her faire besought."
|Agnes Miller Parker|
He also beats the hell out of the fisherman, ties him behind his chariot and then throws him on shore. But not Florimell, that fortunate girl is going to his sea-cave. At first he tries to tempt her with sexy shape-changing;
"Then like a Faerie knight himself he drest;
For every shape on him he could endew:
Then like a king he was to her exprest,
And offred kingdomes unto her in vew,
To be he Leman and his Ladie trew:
But when all this he nothing saw prevale,
With harder meanes he cast her to subdew,
And with sharpe threates her often did assaile,
So thinking for to make her stubborn courage quaile.
To dreadfull shapes he did himself transforme,
Now like a Gyant, now like to a feend,
Then like a Centaure, then to like a storm,
Raging within the waves: thereby he weens
Her will to win unto his wished end.
But when with feare, nor favour, nor with all
He else could doe, he saw himself esteemd,
Downe in a Dongeon deepe he let her fall,
And threatned there to make her his eternall thrall."
Back to Satyrene;
Hes chilling with the _Squire of Dames_ (I always think of either Hugh Hefner or Stan Lee when I read that name) & they meet a guy. It's Paridell, he tells him everyones out loking for Florimell.
Satyrane says shes dead.
Paridel says - well maybe she isnt dead, did you see a body or whatever.
So they keep looking.
Eventually they come to castle, to which they are refused entrance.