Florimel had scarcely issued from the thick wood which clothed the valley, and entered upon the barren plain which led to the shore where Marinell had once reigned, than she heard the loud baying of the monster, and, looking back, beheld him issuing from the wood. With gigantic strides he came on, his long, hairy arm extended to clutch his prey,and his parted mouth showing a wide row of gleaming teeth. Her heart seemed glued to her side with fear, and she had hardly voice to cheer on her horse toward the shining beech.
On the edge of the sea, in a sheltered cove where the water lay still and smooth, she saw a little shallop, in which a fisher, old and poor, lay fast asleep upon a pile of his unmended nets. As soon as she reached the edge, she threw herself from her palfrey, and wading through the shallow water, climbed into the little boat. The fisher’s slack grasp yielded her easily the slight oars, and in a moment she pushed herself out into the level sea.
Who can describe the howling rage of the vile monster when he found himself thus disappointed of his victim? With loud cries he threw himself upon the fair steed which had borne Florimel so bravely, and with his sharp claws tore him limb from limb, and set himself to feast upon his mangled sides.
