XLIII

The other foot, fast fixed on his shield,
  Whenas no strength, nor stroks mote him constraine 380
  To loose, ne yet the warlike pledge to yield,
  He smot thereat with all his might and maine,
  That nought so wondrous puissaunce might sustaine;
  Upon the joint the lucky steele did light,
  And made such way, that hewd it quite in twaine; 385
  The paw yett missed not his minisht might,[*]
But hong still on the shield, as it at first was pight.

XLIV

For griefe thereof and divelish despight,[*]
  From his infernall fournace forth he threw
  Huge flames, that dimmed all the heavens light, 390
  Enrold in duskish smoke and brimstone blew: 
  As burning Aetna from his boyling stew
  Doth belch out flames, and rockes in peeces broke,
  And ragged ribs of mountains molten new,
  Enwrapt in coleblacke clouds and filthy smoke, 395
That all the land with stench, and heaven with horror choke.

XLV

The heate whereof, and harmefull pestilence
  So sore him noyd, that forst him to retire
  A little backward for his best defence,
  To save his body from the scorching fire, 400
  Which he from hellish entrailes did expire. 
  It chaunst (eternall God that chaunce did guide,)
  As he recoiled backward, in the mire
  His nigh forwearied feeble feet did slide,
And downe he fell, with dread of shame sore terrifide. 405

XLVI

There grew a goodly tree[*] him faire beside,
  Loaden with fruit and apples rosie red,
  As they in pure vermilion had beene dide,
  Whereof great vertues over all were red[*]: 
  For happy life to all which thereon fed, 410
  And life eke everlasting did befall: 
  Great God it planted in that blessed sted
  With his Almighty hand, and did it call
The tree of life, the crime of our first fathers fall.[*]

XLVII

In all the world like was not to be found, 415
  Save in that soile, where all good things did grow,
  And freely sprong out of the fruitfull ground,
  As incorrupted Nature did them sow,
  Till that dread Dragon all did overthrow. 
  Another like faire tree eke grew thereby, 420
  Whereof whoso did eat, eftsoones did know
  Both good and ill:  O mornefull memory: 
That tree through one mans fault hath doen us all to dy.

XLVIII

From that first tree forth flowd, as from a well,
  A trickling streame of Balme, most soveraine 425
  And dainty deare, which on the ground, still fell,
  And overflowed all the fertile plaine,
  As it had deawed bene with timely raine: 
  Life and long health that gratious ointment gave,
  And deadly wounds could heale and reare againe 430
  The senselesse corse appointed for the grave. 
Into that same he fell:  which did from death him save.