[510] xxix 2 _Erinnys_ in your noble harts, _1590_, _1596_
[511] 6 thrust] thurst _1609_
[512] xxx 1 there] their _1590_, _1596_
[513] 3 bloodguiltnesse _1590_: bloud guiltnesse _1596_
[514] xxxi 3 make _1590_: _corr. F. E._
[515] xxxiv 9 thought their] though ther _1590_
[516] xxxvii 1 Fast] First _1590 &c._: _corr. F. E._
[517] xl 5 peaceable _1596_, _1609_
[518] xli 1 grace, _1590_, _1596_
[519] 3 bace, _1590_, _1596_
[520] 4 eye. _1596_
[521] xlii 5 found, _1590_, _1596_
[522] 6 make] hold _conj. edd._ _Cf._ II ii 7, iii 28, _&c._
[523] xliv 4 introld] entrold _1590_: enrold _conj. edd._
[524] 7 told _1596_
_Cant. III._
[Illustration:
_Vaine Braggadocchio getting Guyons
horse is made the scorne
Of knighthood trew, and is of fayre
Belphœbe fowle forlorne._
]
Soone as the morrow faire with purple beames i
Disperst the shadowes of the mistie night,
And _Titan_ playing on the eastern streames,
Gan cleare the deawy ayre with springing light,
Sir _Guyon_ mindfull of his vow yplight,
Vprose from drowsie couch, and him addrest
Vnto the iourney which he had behight:
His puissaunt armes about his noble brest,
And many-folded shield he bound about his wrest.
Then taking _Congé_ of that virgin pure, ii
The bloudy-handed babe vnto her truth
Did earnestly commit, and her coniure,
In vertuous lore to traine his tender youth,
And all that gentle noriture ensu’th:
And that so soone as ryper yeares he raught[525],
He might for memorie of that dayes ruth,
Be called _Ruddymane_, and thereby taught,
T’auenge his Parents death on them, that had it wrought.
So forth he far’d, as now befell, on foot, iii
Sith his good steed is lately from him gone;
Patience perforce; helpelesse what may it boot
To fret for anger, or for griefe to mone?
His Palmer now shall foot no more alone:
So fortune wrought, as vnder greene woods syde
He lately heard that dying Lady grone,
He left his steed without, and speare besyde,
And rushed in on foot to ayd her, ere she dyde.
The whiles a losell wandring by the way, iv
One that to bountie neuer cast his mind,
Ne thought of honour euer did assay
His baser brest, but in his kestrell kind
A pleasing vaine of glory vaine[526] did find,
To which his flowing toung, and troublous spright
Gaue him great ayd, and made him more inclind:
He that braue steed there finding ready dight,
Purloynd both steed and speare, and ran away full light.
Now gan his hart all swell in iollitie, v
And of him selfe great hope and helpe conceiu’d,
That puffed vp with smoke of vanitie,
And with selfe-loued personage deceiu’d,
He gan to hope, of men to be receiu’d
For such, as he him thought, or faine would bee:
But for in court gay portaunce he perceiu’d,
And gallant shew to be in greatest gree,
Eftsoones to court he cast t’auaunce[527] his first degree.
And by the way he chaunced to espy vi
One sitting idle on a sunny bancke,
To whom auaunting in great brauery,
As Peacocke, that his painted plumes doth prancke,
He smote his courser in the trembling flancke,
And to him threatned his hart-thrilling speare:
The seely man seeing him ryde so rancke,
And ayme at him, fell flat to ground for feare,
And crying Mercy lowd, his pitious hands gan reare.
Thereat the Scarcrow wexed wondrous prowd, vii
Through fortune of his first aduenture faire,
And with big thundring voyce reuyld him lowd;
Vile Caytiue, vassall of dread and despaire,
Vnworthie of the commune[528] breathed aire,
Why liuest thou, dead dog, a lenger day,
And doest not vnto death thy selfe prepaire.
Dye, or thy selfe my captiue yield for ay;
Great fauour I thee graunt, for aunswere thus to stay.
Hold, O deare Lord, hold your dead-doing hand, viii
Then loud he cryde, I am your humble thrall.
Ah wretch (quoth he) thy destinies withstand
My wrathfull will, and do for mercy call.
I giue thee life: therefore prostrated fall,
And kisse my stirrup; that thy homage bee.
The Miser threw him selfe, as an Offall,
Streight at his foot in base humilitee,
And cleeped him his liege, to hold of him in fee.
So happy peace they made and faire accord: ix
Eftsoones this liege-man gan to wexe more bold,
And when he felt the folly of his Lord,
In his owne kind he gan him selfe vnfold:
For he was wylie witted, and growne old
In cunning sleights and practick knauery.
From[529] that day forth he cast for to vphold
His idle humour with fine flattery[530],
And blow the bellowes to his swelling vanity.
_Trompart_ fit man for _Braggadocchio_[531], x
To serue at court in view of vaunting eye;
Vaine-glorious man, when fluttring wind does blow
In his light wings, is lifted vp to skye:
The scorne of knighthood and trew cheualrye,
To thinke without desert of gentle deed,
And noble worth to be aduaunced hye:
Such prayse is shame; but honour vertues meed
Doth beare the fairest flowre in honorable seed.
So forth they pas, a well consorted paire, xi
Till that at length with _Archimage_ they meet:
Who seeing one that shone in armour faire,
On goodly courser[532] thundring with his feet,
Eftsoones supposed him a person meet,
Of his reuenge to make the instrument:
For since the _Redcrosse_ knight he earst did weet,
To beene with _Guyon_ knit in one consent,
The ill, which earst to him, he now to _Guyon_ ment.
And comming close to _Trompart_ gan inquere xii
Of him, what mighty warriour that mote bee,
That rode in golden sell with single spere,
But wanted sword to wreake his enmitee.
He is a great aduenturer, (said he)
That hath his sword through hard assay forgone,
And now hath vowd, till he auenged bee,
Of that despight, neuer to wearen none;
That speare is him enough to doen a thousand grone.
Th’enchaunter greatly ioyed in the vaunt, xiii
And weened well ere long his will to win,
And both his foen with equall foyle to daunt.
Tho to him louting lowly, did begin
To plaine of wrongs, which had committed bin
By _Guyon_, and by that false _Redcrosse_ knight,
Which two through treason and deceiptfull gin,
Had slaine Sir _Mordant_, and his Lady bright:
That mote him honour win, to wreake so foule despight.
Therewith all suddeinly he seemd enraged, xiv
And threatned death with dreadfull countenaunce,
As if their liues had in his hand beene gaged;
And with stiffe force shaking his mortall launce,
To let him weet his doughtie valiaunce,
Thus said; Old man, great sure shalbe thy meed,
If where those knights for feare of dew vengeaunce
Do lurke, thou certainly to me areed,
That I may wreake on them their hainous hatefull deed.
Certes, my Lord, (said he) that shall I soone, xv
And giue you eke good helpe to their decay,
But mote I wisely you aduise to doon;
Giue no ods to your foes, but do puruay
Your selfe of sword before that bloudy day:
For they be two the prowest knights on ground,
And oft approu’d in many hard assay,
And eke of surest steele, that may be found,
Do arme your selfe against that day, them to confound.
Dotard (said he) let be thy deepe aduise; xvi
Seemes that through many yeares thy wits thee faile,
And that weake eld hath left thee nothing wise,
Else neuer should thy iudgement be so fraile,
To measure manhood by the sword or maile.
Is not enough foure quarters of a man,
Withouten sword or shield, an host to quaile?
Thou little wotest, what this right hand can:
Speake they, which haue beheld the battailes, which it wan.
The man was much abashed at his boast; xvii
Yet well he wist, that who so would contend
With either of those knights on euen coast,
Should need of all his armes, him to defend;
Yet feared least his boldnesse should offend,
When _Braggadocchio_ said, Once I did sweare,
When with one sword seuen knights I brought to end,
Thence forth in battell neuer sword to beare,
But it were that, which noblest knight on earth doth weare.
Perdie Sir knight, said then th’enchaunter bliue, xviii
That shall I shortly purchase to your hond:
For now the best and noblest knight aliue
Prince _Arthur_ is, that wonnes in Faerie lond;
He hath a sword, that flames like burning brond.
The same by my deuice[533] I vndertake
Shall by to morrow by thy side be fond.
At which bold word that boaster gan to quake,
And wondred in his mind, what mote that monster make.
He stayd not for more bidding, but away xix
Was suddein vanished out of his sight:
The Northerne wind his wings did broad display
At his commaund, and reared him vp light
From off the earth to take his aerie flight.
They lookt about, but no where could espie
Tract of his foot: then dead through great affright
They both nigh were, and each bad other flie:
Both fled attonce, ne euer backe returned eie.
Till that they come vnto a forrest greene, xx
In which they shrowd themselues from causelesse feare;
Yet feare them followes still, where so they beene,
Each trembling leafe, and whistling wind they heare,
As ghastly bug their haire on end does[534] reare:
Yet both doe striue their fearfulnesse to faine.
At last they heard a horne, that shrilled cleare
Throughout the wood, that ecchoed againe,
And made the forrest ring, as it would riue in twaine.
Eft through the thicke they heard one rudely rush; xxi
With noyse whereof he from his loftie steed
Downe fell to ground, and crept into a bush,
To hide his coward head from dying dreed.
But _Trompart_ stoutly stayd to taken heed[535]
Of what might hap. Eftsoone there stepped forth
A goodly Ladie clad in hunters weed,
That seemd to be a woman of great worth,
And by her stately portance, borne of heauenly birth.
Her face so faire as flesh it seemed not, xxii
But heauenly pourtraict of bright Angels hew,
Cleare as the skie, withouten blame or blot,
Through goodly mixture of complexions dew;
And in her cheekes the vermeill red did shew
Like roses in a bed of lillies shed,
The which ambrosiall odours from them threw,
And gazers sense with double pleasure fed,
Hable[536] to heale the sicke, and to reuiue the ded.
In her faire eyes two liuing lamps did flame, xxiii
Kindled aboue at th’heauenly makers light,
And darted fyrie beames out of the same,
So passing persant[537], and so wondrous bright,
That quite bereau’d the rash beholders sight:
In them the blinded god his lustfull fire
To kindle oft assayd, but had no might;
For with dredd[538] Maiestie, and awfull ire,
She broke his wanton darts, and quenched base desire.
Her iuorie forhead, full of bountie braue, xxiv
Like a broad table did it selfe dispred,
For Loue his loftie triumphes to engraue,
And write the battels of his great godhed:
All good and honour might therein be red:
For there their dwelling was. And when she spake,
Sweet words, like dropping honny she did shed,
And twixt the perles and rubins softly brake
A siluer sound, that heauenly musicke seemd to make.
Vpon her eyelids many Graces sate, xxv
Vnder the shadow of her euen browes,
Working belgards, and amorous retrate,
And euery one her with a grace endowes:
And euery one with meekenesse to her bowes.
So glorious mirrhour of celestiall grace,
And soueraine moniment of mortall vowes,
How shall fraile pen descriue her heauenly face,
For feare through want of skill her beautie to disgrace?
So faire, and thousand thousand times more faire xxvi
She seemd, when she presented was to sight,
And was yclad, for heat of scorching aire,
All in a silken Camus lylly whight,
Purfled vpon with many a folded plight,
Which all aboue besprinckled was throughout[539]
With golden aygulets, that glistred bright,
Like twinckling starres, and all the skirt about
Was hemd with golden fringe
Below her ham her weed did somewhat traine, xxvii
And her streight legs most brauely were embayld
In gilden buskins of costly Cordwaine,
All bard with golden bendes, which were entayld
With curious antickes, and full faire aumayld:
Before they fastned were vnder her knee
In a rich Iewell, and therein entrayld
The ends[540] of all their[541] knots, that none might see,
How they within their fouldings close enwrapped bee.
Like two faire marble pillours they were[542] seene, xxviii
Which doe the temple of the Gods support,
Whom all the people decke with girlands greene,
And honour in their festiuall resort;
Those same with stately grace, and princely port
She taught to tread, when she her selfe would grace,
But with the wooddie Nymphes when she did play[543],
Or when the flying Libbard she did chace,
She could them nimbly moue, and after fly apace.
And in her hand a sharpe bore-speare she held, xxix
And at her backe a bow and quiuer gay,
Stuft with steele-headed darts, wherewith she queld
The saluage beastes in her victorious play,
Knit with a golden bauldricke, which forelay
Athwart her snowy brest, and did diuide
Her daintie paps; which like young fruit in May
Now little gan to swell, and being tide,
Through her thin weed their places only signifide.
Her yellow lockes crisped, like golden wyre, xxx
About her shoulders weren loosely shed,
And when the winde emongst them did inspyre,
They waued like a penon wide dispred[544],
And low behinde her backe were scattered:
And whether art it were, or heedlesse hap,
As through the flouring forrest rash she fled,
In her rude haires sweet flowres themselues did lap,
And flourishing fresh leaues and blossomes did enwrap.
Such as _Diana_ by the sandie shore xxxi
Of swift _Eurotas_, or on _Cynthus_ greene,
Where all the Nymphes haue her vnwares forlore,
Wandreth alone with bow and arrowes keene,
To seeke her game: Or as that famous Queene
Of _Amazons_, whom _Pyrrhus_ did destroy,
The day that first of _Priame_ she was seene,
Did shew her selfe in great triumphant ioy,
To succour the weake state of sad afflicted _Troy_.
Such when as hartlesse _Trompart_ her did vew, xxxii
He was dismayed in his coward mind,
And doubted, whether he himselfe should shew,
Or fly away, or bide alone behind:
Both feare and hope he in her face did find,
When she at last him spying thus bespake;
Hayle Groome; didst not thou see a bleeding Hind,
Whose right haunch earst my stedfast arrow strake?
If thou didst, tell me, that I may her ouertake.
Wherewith reviu’d, this answere forth he threw; xxxiii
O Goddesse, (for such I thee take to bee)
For neither doth thy face terrestriall shew,
Nor voyce sound mortall; I auow to thee,
Such wounded beast, as that, I did not see,
Sith earst into this forrest wild I came.
But mote thy goodlyhed forgiue it mee,
To weet, which of the Gods I shall thee name,
That vnto thee due worship I may rightly frame.
To whom she thus; but ere her words ensewed, xxxiv
Vnto the bush her eye did suddein glaunce,
In which vaine _Braggadocchio_ was mewed,
And saw it stirre: she left her percing launce,
And towards gan a deadly shaft aduaunce,
In mind to marke the beast. At which sad stowre,
_Trompart_ forth stept, to stay the mortall chaunce,
Out crying, O what euer heauenly powre,
Or earthly wight thou be, withhold this deadly howre.
O stay thy hand,[545] for yonder is no game xxxv
For thy fierce arrowes, them to exercize,
But loe my Lord, my liege, whose warlike name[546]
Is farre renowmd through many bold emprize;
And now in shade he shrowded yonder lies.
She staid: with that he crauld out of his nest,
Forth creeping on his caitiue hands and thies,
And standing stoutly vp, his loftie crest
Did fiercely shake, and rowze, as comming late from rest.
As fearefull fowle, that long in secret caue xxxvi
For dread of soaring hauke her selfe hath hid,
Not caring how, her silly life to saue,
She her gay painted plumes disorderid,
Seeing at last her selfe from daunger rid,
Peepes foorth,[547] and soone renewes her natiue pride;
She gins her feathers foule disfigured
Proudly to prune, and set on euery side,
So shakes off shame, ne thinks how erst she did her hide.
So when her goodly visage he beheld, xxxvii
He gan himselfe to vaunt: but when he vewed
Those deadly tooles, which in her hand she held,
Soone into other fits he was transmewed,
Till she to him her gratious speach renewed;
All haile, Sir knight, and well may thee befall,
As all the like, which honour haue pursewed
Through deedes of armes and prowesse martiall;
All vertue merits praise, but such the most of all.
To whom he thus; O fairest vnder skie, xxxviii
True be thy words, and worthy of thy praise,
That warlike feats doest highest glorifie.
Therein haue I[548] spent all my youthly daies,
And many battailes fought, and many fraies
Throughout the world, wher so they might be found,
Endeuouring my dreadded name to raise
Aboue the Moone, that fame may it resound
In her eternall trompe, with laurell girland cround.
But what art thou, O Ladie, which doest raunge xxxix
In this wilde forrest, where no pleasure is,
And doest not it for ioyous court exchaunge,
Emongst thine equall peres, where happie blis
And all delight does raigne, much more then this?
There thou maist loue, and dearely loued bee,
And swim in pleasure, which thou here doest mis;
There maist thou best be seene, and best maist see:
The wood is fit for beasts, the court is fit for thee.
Who so in pompe of proud estate (quoth she) xl
Does swim, and bathes himselfe in courtly blis,
Does waste his dayes in darke obscuritee,
And in obliuion euer buried is:
Where ease abounds, yt’s eath to doe amis;
But who his limbs with labours, and his mind
Behaues with cares, cannot so easie mis.
Abroad in armes, at home in studious kind
Who seekes with painfull toile, shall honor soonest find.
In woods, in waues, in warres she wonts to dwell, xli
And will be found with perill and with paine;
Ne can the man, that moulds in idle cell,
Vnto her happie mansion attaine:
Before her gate high God did Sweat ordaine,
And wakefull watches euer to abide:
But easie is the way, and passage plaine
To pleasures pallace; it may soone be spide,
And day and night her dores to all stand open wide.
In Princes court, The rest she would haue said, xlii
But that the foolish man, fild with delight
Of her sweet words, that all his sence dismaid,
And with her wondrous beautie rauisht quight,
Gan burne in filthy lust, and leaping light,
Thought in his bastard armes her to embrace.
With that she swaruing backe, her Iauelin bright
Against him bent, and fiercely did menace:
So turned her about, and fled away apace.
Which when the Peasant saw, amazd he stood, xliii
And grieued[549] at her flight; yet durst he not
Pursew her steps, through wild vnknowen wood;
Besides he feard her wrath, and threatned shot
Whiles in the bush he lay, not yet forgot:
Ne car’d he greatly for her presence vaine,
But turning said to _Trompart_, What foule blot
Is this to knight, that Ladie should againe
Depart to woods vntoucht, and leaue so proud disdaine?
Perdie (said _Trompart_) let her passe at will, xliv
Least by her presence daunger mote befall.
For who can tell (and sure I feare it ill)
But that she is some powre celestiall?
For whiles she spake, her great words did apall
My feeble courage, and my hart oppresse,
That yet I quake and tremble ouer all.
And I (said _Braggadocchio_) thought no lesse,
When first I heard her horne sound with such ghastlinesse.
For from my mothers wombe this grace I haue xlv
Me giuen by eternall destinie,
That earthly thing may not my courage braue
Dismay with feare, or cause one[550] foot to flie,
But either hellish feends, or powres on hie:
Which was the cause, when earst that horne I heard,
Weening it had beene thunder in the skie,
I hid my selfe from it, as one affeard;
But when I other knew, my selfe I boldly reard.
But now for feare of worse, that may betide, xlvi
Let vs soone hence depart. They soone agree;
So to his steed he got, and gan to ride,
As one vnfit therefore, that all might see
He had not trayned bene in cheualree.
Which well that valiant courser did discerne;
For he despysd to tread in dew degree,
But chaufd and fom’d, with courage fierce and sterne,
And to be easd of that base burden still did erne[551].
FOOTNOTES:
[525] ii 6 raught] rought _1590_: _corr. F. E._
[526] iv 5 glory vaine] glory he _1590_
[527] v 9 aduaunce _1590_
[528] vii 5 common _1609_
[529] ix 7 From] For _1596_
[530] 8 slattery _1590_
[531] x 1 _Braggadochio_ _1590 &c._
[532] xi 4 courser] course _1590_
[533] xviii 6 deuice] aduise _1596_, _1609_
[534] xx 5 does vnto them affeare _1590_: vnto _corr. to_ greatly _in
F. E._
[535] xxi 5 heed, _1590_, _1596_
[536] xxii 9 Able _1609 passim_
[537] xxiii 4 pearceant _1609_
[538] 8 drad _1609_
[539] xxvi 6 throughout, _1590 &c._
[540] xxvii 8 end _1609_
[541] their] the _1590_
[542] xxviii 1 were] did _1590_: _corr. F. E._
[543] 7 play] sport _conj. ed._ _Cf._ II ii 7, 42, _&c._
[544] xxx 4 disspred _1609_
[545] xxxv 1 hand _1596_: hand: _1609_
[546] 3 name, _1590 &c._
[547] xxxvi 6 forth, _1590_
[548] xxxviii 4 haue I] I haue _1590_
[549] xliii 2 greiued _1596_
[550] xlv 4 one] on _1590_, _1596_
[551] xlvi 9 yerne _1609_
_Cant. IIII._
[Illustration:
_Guyon does Furor bind in chaines,
and stops Occasion:
Deliuers Phedon[552], and therefore
by Strife[553] is rayld vpon._
]
In braue pursuit of honorable deed, i
There is I know not what[554] great difference
Betweene the vulgar and the noble seed,
Which vnto things of valorous pretence
Seemes to be borne by natiue influence;
As feates of armes, and loue to entertaine,
But chiefly skill to ride, seemes a science
Proper to gentle bloud; some others faine
To menage steeds, as did this vaunter; but in vaine.
But he the rightfull owner of that steed, ii
Who well could menage and subdew his pride,
The whiles on foot was forced for to yeed,
With that blacke Palmer, his most trusty guide;
Who suffred not his wandring feet to slide.
But when strong passion, or weake fleshlinesse
Would from the right way seeke to draw him wide,
He would through temperance and stedfastnesse,
Teach him the weake to strengthen, and the strong suppresse.
It fortuned forth faring on his way, iii
He saw from farre, or seemed for to see
Some troublous vprore or contentious fray,
Whereto he drew in haste it to agree.
A mad man, or that feigned mad to bee,
Drew by the haire along vpon the ground,
A handsome stripling with great crueltee,
Whom sore he bett, and gor’d with many a wound,
That cheekes with teares, and sides with bloud did all abound.
And him behind, a wicked Hag did stalke, iv
In ragged robes, and filthy disaray,
Her other leg was lame, that she no’te walke,[555]
But on a staffe her feeble steps did stay;
Her lockes, that loathly were and hoarie gray,
Grew all afore, and loosely hong vnrold,
But all behind was bald, and worne away,
That none thereof could euer taken hold,
And eke her face ill fauourd, full of wrinckles old.
And euer as she went, her tongue did walke v
In foule reproch, and termes of vile despight,
Prouoking him by her outrageous talke,
To heape more vengeance on that wretched wight;
Sometimes she raught him stones, wherwith to smite,
Sometimes her staffe, though it her one leg were,
Withouten which she could not go vpright;
Ne any euill meanes she did forbeare,
That might him moue to wrath, and indignation reare.
The noble _Guyon_ mou’d with great remorse, vi
Approching, first the Hag did thrust away,
And after adding more impetuous forse,
His mightie hands did on the madman lay,
And pluckt him backe; who all on fire streight way,
Against him turning all his fell intent,
With beastly brutish rage gan him assay,
And smot, and bit, and kickt, and scratcht, and rent,
And did he wist not what in his auengement.
And sure he was a man of mickle might, vii
Had he had gouernance, it well to guide:
But when the franticke fit inflamd his spright,
His force was vaine, and strooke more often wide,
Then at the aymed marke, which he had eide:
And oft himselfe he chaunst to hurt vnwares,
Whilst reason blent through passion, nought descride,
But as a blindfold Bull at randon fares,
And where he hits, nought knowes, and whom he hurts, nought cares.
His rude assault and rugged handeling viii
Straunge seemed to the knight, that aye with foe
In faire defence and goodly menaging
Of armes was wont to fight, yet nathemoe
Was he abashed now not fighting so,
But more enfierced through his currish play,
Him sternely grypt, and haling to and fro,
To ouerthrow him strongly did assay,
But ouerthrew himselfe vnwares, and lower lay.
And being downe the villein sore did beat, ix
And bruze with clownish fistes his manly face:
And eke the Hag with many a bitter threat,
Still cald vpon to kill him in the place.
With whose reproch and odious menace
The knight emboyling in his haughtie hart,
Knit all his forces, and gan soone vnbrace
His grasping hold: so lightly did vpstart,
And drew his deadly weapon, to maintaine his part.
Which when the Palmer saw, he loudly cryde, x
Not so, O _Guyon_, neuer thinke that so
That Monster can be maistred or destroyd:
He is not[556], ah, he is not such a foe,
As steele can wound, or strength can ouerthroe.
That same is _Furor_, cursed cruell wight,
That vnto knighthood workes much shame and woe;
And that same Hag, his aged mother, hight
_Occasion_, the root of all wrath and despight.
With her, who so will raging _Furor_ tame, xi
Must first begin, and well her amenage:
First her restraine from her reprochfull blame,
And euill meanes, with which she doth enrage
Her franticke sonne, and kindles his courage,
Then when she is withdrawen, or strong withstood,
It’s eath his idle furie to asswage,
And calme the tempest of his passion wood;
The bankes are ouerflowen, when stopped is the flood.
Therewith Sir _Guyon_ left his first emprise, xii
And turning to that woman, fast her hent
By the hoare lockes, that hong before her eyes,
And to the ground her threw: yet n’ould she stent
Her bitter rayling and foule reuilement,
But still prouokt her sonne to wreake her wrong;
But nathelesse he did her still torment,
And catching hold of her vngratious tong[557],
Thereon an yron lock[558] did fasten firme and strong.
Then when as vse of speach was from her reft, xiii
With her two crooked handes she signes did make,
And beckned him, the last helpe she had left:
But he that last left helpe away did take,
And both her hands fast bound vnto a stake,
That she note stirre. Then gan her sonne to flie
Full fast away, and did her quite forsake;
But _Guyon_ after him in haste did hie,
And soone him ouertooke in sad perplexitie.
In his strong armes he stiffely him embraste, xiv
Who him gainstriuing, nought at all preuaild:
For all his power was vtterly defaste,
And furious fits at earst quite weren quaild:
Oft he re’nforst, and oft his forces fayld,
Yet yield he would not, nor his rancour slacke.
Then him to ground he cast, and rudely hayld,
And both his hands fast bound behind his backe,
And both his feet in fetters to an yron racke.
With hundred yron chaines he did him bind, xv
And hundred knots that did him sore constraine:
Yet his great yron teeth he still did grind,
And grimly gnash, threatning reuenge in vaine;
His burning eyen, whom bloudie strakes did staine,
Stared full wide, and threw forth sparkes of fire,
And more for ranck despight, then for great paine,
Shakt his long lockes, colourd like copper-wire,
And bit his tawny beard to shew his raging ire.
Thus when as _Guyon_ _Furor_ had captiu’d, xvi
Turning about he saw that wretched Squire,
Whom that mad man of life nigh late depriu’d,
Lying on ground, all soild with bloud and mire:
Whom when as he perceiued to respire,
He gan to comfort, and his wounds to dresse.
Being at last recured, he gan inquire,
What hard mishap him brought to such distresse,
And made that caitiues thral, the thral of wretchednesse.
With hart then throbbing, and with watry eyes, xvii
Faire Sir (quoth he) what man can shun the hap,
That hidden lyes vnwares him to surpryse?[559]
Misfortune waites aduantage to entrap
The man most warie in her whelming lap.
So me weake wretch, of many weakest one[560],
Vnweeting, and vnware of such mishap,
She brought to mischiefe through occasion[561],
Where this same wicked villein did me light vpon[562].
It was a faithlesse Squire, that was the sourse xviii
Of all my sorrow, and of these sad teares,
With whom from tender dug of commune nourse,
Attonce I was vpbrought, and eft when yeares
More rype vs reason lent to chose our Peares,
Our selues in league of vowed loue we knit:
In which we long time without gealous feares,
Or[563] faultie thoughts continewd, as was fit;
And for my part I vow, dissembled not a whit.
It was my fortune commune to that age, xix
To loue a Ladie faire of great degree,
The which was borne of noble parentage,
And set in highest seat of dignitee,
Yet seemd no lesse to loue, then loued to bee:
Long I her seru’d, and found her faithfull still,
Ne euer thing could cause vs disagree:
Loue that two harts makes one,[564] makes eke one will:
Each stroue to please, and others pleasure to fulfill.
My friend, hight _Philemon_, I did partake[565] xx
Of all my loue and all my priuitie;
Who greatly ioyous seemed for my sake,
And gratious to that Ladie, as to mee,
Ne euer wight, that mote so welcome bee,
As he to her, withouten blot or blame,
Ne euer thing, that she could thinke or see,
But vnto him she would impart the same:
O wretched man, that would abuse so gentle Dame.
At last such grace I found, and meanes I wrought, xxi
That I that Ladie to my spouse had wonne;
Accord of friends, consent of parents sought,
Affiance made, my happinesse begonne,
There wanted nought but few rites to be donne,
Which mariage make; that day too farre did seeme:
Most ioyous man, on whom the shining Sunne[566]
Did shew his face, my selfe I did esteeme,
And that my falser friend did no lesse ioyous deeme.
But ere[567] that wished day his beame disclosd, xxii
He either enuying my toward good,
Or of himselfe to treason ill disposd,[568]
One day vnto me came in friendly mood,
And told for secret how he vnderstood
That Ladie whom I had to me assynd,
Had both distaind her honorable blood,
And eke the faith, which she to me did bynd;
And therfore wisht me stay, till I more truth should fynd.
The gnawing anguish and sharpe gelosy, xxiii
Which his sad speech infixed in my brest,
Ranckled so sore, and festred inwardly,
That my engreeued mind could find no rest,
Till that the truth thereof I did outwrest,
And him besought by that same sacred band
Betwixt vs both, to counsell me the best.
He then with solemne oath and plighted hand
Assur’d, ere long the truth to let me vnderstand.
Ere long with like againe he boorded mee, xxiv
Saying, he now had boulted all the floure,
And that it was a groome of base degree,
Which of my loue was partner Paramoure:
Who vsed in a darkesome inner bowre
Her oft to meet: which better to approue,
He promised to bring me at that howre,
When I should see, that would me nearer moue,
And driue me to withdraw my blind abused loue.
This gracelesse man for furtherance of his guile, xxv
Did court the handmayd of my Lady deare,
Who glad t’embosome his affection vile,
Did all she might, more pleasing to appeare.
One day to worke her to his will more neare,
He woo’d her thus: _Pryene_ (so she hight)
What great despight doth fortune to thee beare,
Thus lowly to abase thy beautie bright,
That it should not deface all others lesser light?
But if she had her least helpe to thee lent, xxvi
T’adorne thy forme according thy desart,
Their blazing pride thou wouldest soone haue blent,
And staynd their prayses with thy least good part;
Ne should faire _Claribell_ with all her art,
Though she thy Lady be, approch thee neare:
For proofe thereof, this euening, as thou art,
Aray thy selfe in her most gorgeous geare,
That I may more delight in thy embracement deare.
The Maiden proud through prayse, and mad through loue xxvii
Him hearkned to, and soone her selfe arayd,
The whiles to me the treachour did remoue
His craftie engin, and as he had sayd,
Me leading, in a secret corner layd,
The sad spectatour of my Tragedie;
Where left, he went, and his owne false part playd,
Disguised like that groome of base degree,
Whom he had feignd th’abuser of my loue to bee.
Eftsoones he came vnto th’appointed place, xxviii
And with him brought _Pryene_,[569] rich arayd,
In _Claribellaes_ clothes. Her proper face
I not descerned[570] in that darkesome shade,
But weend it was my loue, with whom he playd.
Ah God, what horrour and tormenting griefe
My hart, my hands, mine eyes, and all assayd?
Me liefer were ten thousand deathes[571] priefe,
Then wound of gealous worme, and shame of such repriefe.
I home returning, fraught with fowle despight, xxix
And chawing vengeance all the way I went,
Soone as my loathed loue appeard in sight,
With wrathfull hand I slew her innocent;
That after soone I dearely did lament:
For when the cause of that outrageous deede
Demaunded, I made plaine and euident,
Her faultie Handmayd, which that bale did breede,
Confest, how _Philemon_ her wrought to chaunge her weede.
Which when I heard, with horrible affright xxx
And hellish fury all enragd, I sought
Vpon my selfe that vengeable despight
To punish: yet it better first I thought,
To wreake my wrath on him, that first it wrought.
To _Philemon_, false faytour _Philemon_
I cast to pay, that I so dearely bought;
Of deadly drugs I gaue him drinke anon,
And washt away his guilt with guiltie potion.
Thus heaping crime on crime, and griefe on griefe, xxxi
To losse of loue adioyning losse of frend,
I meant to purge both with a third mischiefe,
And in my woes beginner it to end:
That was _Pryene_; she did first offend,
She last should smart: with which cruell intent,
When I at her my murdrous blade did bend,
She fled away with ghastly dreriment,
And I pursewing my fell purpose, after went.
Feare gaue her wings, and rage enforst my flight; xxxii
Through woods and plaines so long I did her chace,
Till this mad man, whom your victorious might
Hath now fast bound, me met in middle space,
As I her, so he me pursewd apace,
And shortly ouertooke: I,[572] breathing yre,
Sore chauffed at my stay in such a cace,
And with my heat kindled his cruell fyre;
Which kindled once, his mother did more rage inspyre.
Betwixt them both, they haue me doen to dye, xxxiii
Through wounds, and strokes, and stubborne handeling,
That death were better, then such agony,
As griefe and furie vnto me did bring;
Of which in me yet stickes the mortall sting,
That during life will neuer be appeasd.
When he thus ended had his sorrowing,
Said _Guyon_, Squire, sore haue ye beene diseasd;
But all your hurts may soone through temperance be easd.
Then gan the Palmer thus, Most[573] wretched man, xxxiv
That to affections does the bridle lend;
In their beginning they are weake and wan,
But soone through suff’rance grow to fearefull end;
Whiles they are weake betimes with them contend:
For when they once to perfect strength do grow,
Strong warres they make, and cruell battry bend
Gainst fort of Reason, it to ouerthrow:
Wrath, gealosie, griefe, loue this Squire haue layd thus low.
Wrath, gealosie, griefe, loue do thus expell: xxxv
Wrath is a fire, and gealosie a weede,
Griefe is a flood, and loue a monster fell;
The fire of sparkes, the weede of little seede,
The flood of drops, the Monster filth did breede:
But sparks, seed, drops, and filth do thus delay;
The sparks soone quench, the springing seed outweed,[574]
The drops dry vp, and filth wipe cleane away:
So shall wrath, gealosie, griefe, loue dye and decay.
Vnlucky Squire (said _Guyon_) sith thou hast xxxvi
Falne into[575] mischiefe through intemperaunce,
Henceforth take heede of that thou now hast past,
And guide thy wayes with warie gouernaunce,
Least worse betide thee by some later chaunce.
But read how art thou nam’d, and of what kin.
_Phedon_[576] I hight (quoth he) and do aduaunce
Mine auncestry from famous _Coradin_,
Who first to rayse our house to honour did begin.
Thus as he spake, lo far away they spyde xxxvii
A varlet running towards hastily,
Whose flying feet so fast their way applyde,
That round about a cloud of dust did fly,
Which mingled all with sweate, did dim his eye.
He soone approched, panting, breathlesse, whot,
And all so soyld, that none could him descry;
His countenaunce was bold, and bashed not
For _Guyons_ lookes, but scornefull eyglaunce at him shot.
Behind his backe he bore a brasen shield, xxxviii
On which was drawen faire, in colours fit,
A flaming fire in midst of bloudy field,
And round about the wreath this word was writ,
_Burnt I do burne_. Right well beseemed it,
To be the shield of some redoubted knight;
And in his hand two darts exceeding flit,
And deadly sharpe he held, whose heads were dight
In poyson and in bloud, of malice and despight.
When he in presence came, to _Guyon_ first xxxix
He boldly spake, Sir knight, if knight thou bee,
Abandon this forestalled place at erst,
For feare of further harme, I counsell thee,
Or bide the chaunce at thine owne ieoperdie.
The knight at his great boldnesse wondered,
And though he scornd his idle vanitie,
Yet mildly him to purpose answered;
For not to grow of nought he it coniectured.
Varlet, this place most dew to me I deeme, xl
Yielded by him, that held it forcibly.
But whence should come that harme, which thou doest seeme
To threat to him, that minds his chaunce t’abye?
Perdy (said he) here comes, and is hard by
A knight of wondrous powre, and great assay,
That neuer yet encountred enemy,
But did him deadly daunt, or fowle dismay;
Ne thou for better hope, if thou his presence stay.
How hight he then (said _Guyon_) and from whence? xli
_Pyrochles_[577] is his name, renowmed farre
For his bold feats and hardy confidence,
Full oft approu’d in many a cruell warre,
The brother of _Cymochles_, both which arre
The sonnes of old _Acrates_ and _Despight_,
_Acrates_ sonne of _Phlegeton_ and _Iarre_;
But _Phlegeton_ is sonne of _Herebus_ and _Night_;
But _Herebus_ sonne of _Aeternitie_ is hight.
So from immortall race he does proceede, xlii
That mortall hands may not withstand his might,
Drad for his derring do, and bloudy deed;
For all in bloud and spoile is his delight.
His am I _Atin_, his in wrong and right,
That matter make for him to worke vpon,
And stirre him vp to strife and cruell fight.
Fly therefore, fly this fearefull stead anon,
Least thy foolhardize worke thy sad confusion.
His be that care, whom most it doth concerne, xliii
(Said he) but whither with such hasty flight
Art thou now bound? for well mote I discerne
Great cause, that carries thee so swift and light.
My Lord (quoth he) me sent, and streight behight
To seeke _Occasion_,[578] where so she bee:
For he is all disposd to bloudy fight,
And breathes out wrath and hainous crueltie;
Hard is his hap, that first fals in his ieopardie.
Madman (said then the Palmer) that does seeke xliv
_Occasion_ to wrath, and cause of strife;
She comes vnsought, and shonned followes eke.
Happy, who can abstaine, when Rancour rife
Kindles Reuenge, and threats his rusty knife;
Woe neuer wants, where euery cause is caught,
And rash _Occasion_ makes vnquiet life.
Then loe, where bound she sits, whom thou hast sought,
(Said _Guyon_,) let that message to thy Lord be brought.
That when the varlet heard and saw, streight way xlv
He wexed wondrous wroth, and said, Vile knight,
That knights and knighthood doest with shame vpbray,
And shewst th’ensample of thy childish might,
With silly weake old woman thus to[579] fight.
Great glory and gay spoile sure hast thou got,
And stoutly prou’d thy puissaunce here in sight;
That shall _Pyrochles_ well requite, I wot,
And with thy bloud abolish so reprochfull blot.
With that one of his thrillant darts he threw, xlvi
Headed with ire and vengeable despight;
The quiuering steele his aymed end well knew,
And to his brest it selfe intended right:
But he was warie, and ere it empight
In the meant marke, aduaunst his shield atweene,
On which it seizing, no way enter might,
But backe rebounding, left the forckhead keene;
Eftsoones he fled away, and might no where be seene.
FOOTNOTES:
[552] Arg. 3 _Phedon_] _Phaon_ _1590_
[553] 4 _strife_ _1590_, _1596_
[554] i 2 (what) _1590_
[555] iv 3 walke. _1590_, _1596_
[556] x 4 He is not] He is no _1590 &c._: _corr. F. E._
[557] xii 8 tongue _1590_: tonge _F. E._
[558] 9 lock, _1590_, _1596_
[559] xvii 3 surpryse _1590_, _1596_
[560] 6 one] wretch _1590_
[561] 8 occasion] her guilful trech _1590_
[562] 9 light vpon] wandring ketch _1590_
[563] xviii 8 Or] Our _1609_
[564] xix 8 one,] one; _1596_
[565] xx 1 partake, _1590_, _1596_
[566] xxi 7 Sunne, _1590_, _1596_
[567] xxii 1 ere] ear _1590_
[568] 3 disposd _1590_, _1596_
[569] xxviii 2 _Priene_, _1596_
[570] 4 discerned _1609_
[571] 8 deathez _1609_
[572] xxxii 6 I,] I _1590_, _1596_
[573] xxxiv 1 most _1590_, _1596_
[574] xxxv 7 outweed _1590_, _1596_
[575] xxxvi 2 into] vnto _1596_
[576] 7 _Phedon_] _Phaon_ _1590_
[577] xli 2 _Pyrrhochles_ _1590 &c., passim_: _corr. F. E._
[578] xliii 6 _Occasion_; _1590_, _1596_
[579] xlv 5 thus to] that did _1590_
_Cant. V._
[Illustration:
_Pyrochles does with Guyon fight,
And Furors chayne vnbinds:[580]
Of whom sore hurt, for his reuenge
Atin Cymochles finds.[581]_
]
Who euer doth to temperaunce apply i
His stedfast life, and all his actions frame,
Trust me, shall find no greater enimy,
Then stubborne perturbation, to the same;
To which right well the wise do giue that name,
For it the goodly peace of stayed mindes
Does ouerthrow, and troublous warre proclame:
His owne woes authour, who so bound it findes,
As did _Pyrochles_, and it wilfully vnbindes.
After that varlets flight, it was not long, ii
Ere on the plaine fast pricking _Guyon_ spide
One in bright armes embatteiled full strong,
That as the Sunny beames do glaunce and glide
Vpon the trembling waue, so shined bright,
And round about him threw forth sparkling fire,
That seemd him to enflame on euery side:
His steed was bloudy red, and fomed ire,
When with the maistring spur he did him roughly stire.
Approching nigh, he neuer stayd to greete, iii
Ne chaffar[582] words, prowd courage to prouoke,
But prickt so fiers, that vnderneath his feete
The smouldring dust did round about him smoke,
Both horse and man nigh able for to choke;
And fairly couching his steele-headed speare,
Him first saluted with a sturdy stroke;
It booted nought Sir _Guyon_ comming neare
To thinke, such hideous puissaunce on foot to beare.
But lightly shunned it, and passing by, iv
With his bright blade did smite at him so fell,
That the sharpe steele arriuing forcibly
On his broad shield, bit not, but glauncing fell
On his horse necke before the quilted sell,[583]
And from the head the body sundred quight.
So him dismounted low, he did compell
On foot with him to matchen equall fight;
The truncked beast fast bleeding, did him fowly dight.
Sore bruzed with the fall, he slow vprose, v
And all enraged, thus him loudly shent;
Disleall knight, whose coward courage chose
To wreake it selfe on beast all innocent,
And shund the marke, at which it should be ment,
Thereby thine armes seeme strong, but manhood fraile;
So hast thou oft with guile thine honour blent;
But litle may such guile thee now auaile,
If wonted force and fortune do not much me faile[584].
With that he drew his flaming sword, and strooke vi
At him so fiercely, that the vpper marge
Of his seuenfolded shield away it tooke,
And glauncing on his helmet, made a large
And open gash therein: were not his targe,
That broke the violence of his intent,
The weary soule from thence it would discharge;
Nathelesse so sore a buff to him it lent,
That made him reele, and to his brest his beuer bent.
Exceeding wroth was _Guyon_ at that blow, vii
And much ashamd, that stroke of liuing arme
Should him dismay, and make him stoup so low,
Though otherwise it did him litle harme:
Tho hurling high his yron braced arme,
He smote so manly on his shoulder plate,
That all his left side it did quite disarme;
Yet there the steele stayd not, but inly bate
Deepe in his flesh, and opened wide a red floodgate.
Deadly dismayd, with horrour of that dint viii
_Pyrochles_ was, and grieued eke entyre;
Yet nathemore did it his fury stint,
But added flame vnto his former fire,
That welnigh molt his hart in raging yre,
Ne thenceforth his approued skill, to ward,
Or strike, or hurtle[585] round in warlike[586] gyre,
Remembred he, ne car’d for his saufgard,
But rudely rag’d, and like a cruell Tygre far’d.
He hewd, and lasht, and foynd, and thundred blowes, ix
And euery way did seeke into his life,
Ne plate, ne male could ward so mighty throwes,
But yielded passage to his cruell knife.
But _Guyon_, in the heat of all his strife,
Was warie wise, and closely did awayt
Auauntage, whilest his foe did rage most rife;
Sometimes a thwart, sometimes he strooke him strayt,
And falsed oft his blowes, t’illude him with such bayt.
Like as a Lyon, whose imperiall powre x
A prowd rebellious Vnicorne defies,
T’auoide the rash assault and wrathfull stowre
Of his fiers foe, him to a tree applies,
And when him running in full course he spies,
He slips aside; the whiles that furious beast
His precious horne, sought of his enimies[587],
Strikes in the stocke, ne thence can be releast[588],
But to the mighty victour yields a bounteous feast.
With such faire slight him _Guyon_ often faild, xi
Till at the last all breathlesse, wearie, faint
Him spying, with fresh onset he assaild,
And kindling new his courage seeming queint,
Strooke him so hugely, that through great constraint
He made him stoup perforce vnto his knee,
And do vnwilling worship to the Saint,
That on his shield depainted he did see;
Such homage till that instant neuer learned hee.
Whom _Guyon_ seeing stoup, pursewed fast xii
The present offer of faire victory,
And soone his dreadfull blade about he cast,
Wherewith he smote his haughty crest so hye,
That streight on ground made him full low to lye;
Then on his brest his victour foote he thrust,
With that he cryde, Mercy, do me not dye,
Ne deeme thy force by[589] fortunes doome vniust,
That hath (maugre her spight) thus low me laid in dust.
Eftsoones his cruell hand Sir _Guyon_ stayd, xiii
Tempring the passion with aduizement slow,
And maistring might on enimy dismayd:
For th’equall dye of warre he well did know;
Then to him said, Liue and allegaunce owe,
To him that giues thee life and libertie,
And henceforth by this dayes ensample trow,
That hasty wroth, and heedlesse hazardrie
Do breede repentaunce late, and lasting infamie.
So vp he let him rise, who with grim looke xiv
And count’naunce sterne vpstanding, gan to grind
His grated teeth for great disdeigne, and shooke
His sandy lockes, long hanging downe behind,
Knotted in bloud and dust, for griefe of mind,
That he in ods of armes was conquered;
Yet in himselfe some comfort he did find,
That him so noble knight had maistered,
Whose bounty more then might, yet both he wondered.
Which _Guyon_ marking said, Be nought agrieu’d, xv
Sir knight, that thus ye now subdewed arre:
Was neuer man, who most conquestes atchieu’d,[590]
But sometimes had the worse, and lost by warre,
Yet shortly gaynd, that losse exceeded farre:
Losse is no shame, nor to be lesse then foe,
But to be lesser, then himselfe, doth marre
Both loosers lot, and victours prayse alsoe.
Vaine others ouerthrowes, who selfe[591] doth ouerthrowe.
Fly, O _Pyrochles_, fly the dreadfull warre, xvi
That in thy selfe thy lesser parts do moue,
Outrageous anger, and woe-working iarre,
Direfull impatience, and hart murdring loue;
Those, those thy foes, those warriours far remoue,
Which thee to endlesse bale captiued lead.
But sith in might thou didst my mercy proue,
Of curtesie to me the cause aread,[592]
That thee against me drew with so impetuous dread.
Dreadlesse (said he) that shall I soone declare: xvii
It was complaind, that thou hadst done great tort
Vnto an aged woman, poore and bare,
And thralled her in chaines with strong effort,
Voide of all succour and needfull comfort:
That ill beseemes thee, such as I thee see,
To worke such shame. Therefore I thee exhort,
To chaunge thy will, and set _Occasion_[593] free,
And to her captiue sonne yield his first libertee.
Thereat Sir _Guyon_ smilde, And is that all xviii
(Said he) that thee so sore displeased hath?
Great mercy sure, for to enlarge a thrall,
Whose freedome shall thee turne to greatest scath.
Nath’lesse now quench thy whot emboyling[594] wrath:
Loe there they be; to thee I yield them free.
Thereat he wondrous glad, out of the path
Did lightly leape, where he them bound did see,
And gan to breake the bands of their captiuitee.
Soone as _Occasion_ felt her selfe vntyde, xix
Before her sonne could well assoyled bee,
She to her vse returnd, and streight defyde
Both _Guyon_ and _Pyrochles_: th’one (said shee[595])
Bycause he wonne; the other because hee
Was wonne: So matter did she make of nought,
To stirre vp strife, and do[596] them disagree:
But soone as _Furor_ was enlargd, she sought
To kindle his quencht fire, and thousand causes wrought.
It was not long, ere she inflam’d him so, xx
That he would algates with _Pyrochles_ fight,
And his redeemer chalengd for his foe,
Because he had not well mainteind his right,
But yielded had to that same straunger knight:
Now gan _Pyrochles_ wex as wood, as hee,
And him affronted with impatient might:
So both together fiers engrasped bee,
Whiles _Guyon_ standing by, their vncouth strife does see.
Him all that while _Occasion_ did prouoke xxi
Against _Pyrochles_, and new matter framed
Vpon the old, him stirring to be wroke
Of his late wrongs, in which she oft him blamed
For suffering such abuse, as knighthood shamed,
And him dishabled quite. But he was wise
Ne would with vaine occasions[597] be inflamed;
Yet others she more vrgent did deuise:
Yet nothing could him to impatience entise.
Their fell contention still increased more, xxii
And more thereby increased _Furors_ might,
That he his foe has hurt, and wounded sore,
And him in bloud and durt deformed quight.
His mother eke, more to augment his spight[598],
Now brought to him a flaming fire[599] brond,
Which she in _Stygian_ lake, ay burning bright,[600]
Had kindled: that she gaue into his hond,
That armd with fire, more hardly he mote him withstond.
Tho gan that[601] villein wex so fiers and strong, xxiii
That nothing might sustaine his furious forse;
He cast him downe to ground, and all along
Drew him through durt and myre without remorse,
And fowly battered his comely corse,
That _Guyon_ much disdeignd so loathly sight.
At last he was compeld to cry perforse,
Helpe, O Sir _Guyon_, helpe most noble knight,
To rid a wretched man from hands of hellish wight.
The knight was greatly moued at his plaint, xxiv
And gan him dight to succour his distresse,
Till that the Palmer, by his graue restraint,
Him stayd from yielding pitifull redresse;
And said, Deare sonne, thy causelesse ruth represse,
Ne let thy stout hart melt in pitty vayne:
He that his sorrow sought through wilfulnesse,
And his foe fettred would release agayne,[602]
Deserues to tast his follies fruit, repented payne.
_Guyon_ obayd; So him away he drew xxv
From needlesse trouble of renewing fight
Already fought, his voyage to pursew.
But rash _Pyrochles_ varlet, _Atin_ hight,
When late he saw his Lord in heauy plight,
Vnder Sir _Guyons_ puissaunt stroke to fall,
Him deeming dead, as then he seemd in sight,
Fled fast away, to tell his funerall
Vnto his brother, whom _Cymochles_ men did call.
He was a man of rare redoubted might, xxvi
Famous throughout the world for warlike prayse,
And glorious spoiles, purchast in perilous fight:
Full many doughtie knights he in his dayes
Had doen to death, subdewde in equall frayes,
Whose carkases, for terrour of his name,
Of fowles and beastes he made the piteous prayes,
And hong their conquered armes for more defame
On gallow trees, in honour of his dearest Dame.
His dearest Dame is that Enchaunteresse, xxvii
The vile _Acrasia_, that with vaine delightes,
And idle pleasures in her[603] _Bowre_ of _Blisse_,
Does charme her louers, and the feeble sprightes
Can call out of the bodies of fraile wightes:
Whom then she does transforme[604] to monstrous hewes,
And horribly misshapes with vgly sightes,
Captiu’d eternally in yron mewes,
And darksom dens, where _Titan_ his face neuer shewes.
There _Atin_ found _Cymochles_ soiourning, xxviii
To serue his Lemans loue: for he,[605] by kind,
Was giuen all to lust and loose liuing,
When euer his fiers hands he free mote find:
And now he has pourd out his idle mind
In daintie delices, and lauish ioyes,
Hauing his warlike weapons cast behind,
And flowes in pleasures, and vaine pleasing toyes,
Mingled emongst loose Ladies and lasciuious boyes.
And ouer him, art striuing to compaire xxix
With nature, did an Arber greene dispred,
Framed of wanton Yuie, flouring faire,
Through which the fragrant Eglantine did spred
His pricking[606] armes, entrayld with roses red,
Which daintie odours round about them threw,
And all within with flowres was garnished,
That when myld _Zephyrus_ emongst them blew,
Did breath out bounteous smels, and painted colors shew.
And fast beside, there trickled softly downe xxx
A gentle streame, whose murmuring waue did play
Emongst the pumy stones, and made a sowne,
To lull him soft a sleepe, that by it lay;
The wearie Traueiler, wandring that way,
Therein did often quench his thristy heat,
And then by it his wearie limbes display,
Whiles creeping slomber made him to forget
His former paine, and wypt away his toylsom sweat.
And on the other side a pleasaunt groue xxxi
Was shot vp high, full of the stately tree,
That dedicated is t’_Olympicke Ioue_,
And to his sonne _Alcides_, whenas hee
Gaynd in _Nemea_[607] goodly victoree;
Therein the mery birds of euery sort
Chaunted alowd their chearefull harmonie:
And made emongst them selues a sweet consort,
That quickned the dull spright with musicall comfort.
There he him found all carelesly displayd, xxxii
In secret shadow from the sunny ray,
On a sweet bed of lillies softly layd,
Amidst a flocke of Damzels fresh and gay,
That round about him dissolute did play
Their wanton follies, and light meriment;
Euery of which did loosely disaray
Her vpper parts of meet habiliments,
And shewd them naked, deckt with many ornaments.
And euery of them stroue, with most delights, xxxiii
Him to aggrate, and greatest pleasures shew;
Some framd faire lookes, glancing like euening lights,[608]
Others sweet words, dropping like honny dew;
Some bathed kisses, and did soft embrew
The sugred licour through his melting lips:
One boastes her beautie, and does yeeld to vew
Her daintie limbes aboue her tender hips;
Another her out boastes, and all for tryall strips.
He, like an Adder, lurking in the weeds, xxxiv
His wandring thought in deepe desire does steepe,
And his fraile eye with spoyle of beautie feedes;
Sometimes he falsely faines himselfe to sleepe,
Whiles through their lids his wanton eies do peepe,
To steale a snatch of amorous conceipt[609],
Whereby close fire into his heart does creepe:
So, them[610] deceiues, deceiu’d in his deceipt,
Made drunke with drugs of deare voluptuous receipt.
_Atin_ arriuing there, when him he spide, xxxv
Thus in still waues of deepe delight to wade,
Fiercely approching, to him lowdly cride,
_Cymochles_; oh no, but _Cymochles_ shade,
In which that manly person late did fade,
What is become of great _Acrates_ sonne?
Or where hath he hong vp his mortall blade,
That hath so many haughtie conquests wonne?
Is all his force forlorne, and all his glory donne?
Then pricking him with his sharpe-pointed dart, xxxvi
He said; Vp,[611] vp, thou womanish weake knight,
That here in Ladies lap entombed art,
Vnmindfull of thy praise and prowest might,
And weetlesse eke of lately wrought despight,
Whiles sad _Pyrochles_ lies on senselesse ground,
And groneth out his vtmost grudging spright,
Through many a stroke, and many a streaming wound,
Calling thy helpe in vaine, that here in ioyes art dround.
Suddeinly out of his delightfull dreame xxxvii
The man awoke, and would haue questiond more;
But he would not endure that wofull theame
For to dilate at large, but vrged sore
With percing words, and pittifull implore,
Him hastie to arise. As one affright
With hellish feends, or _Furies_ mad vprore,
He then vprose, inflam’d with fell despight,
And called for his armes; for he would algates fight.
They bene ybrought; he quickly does him dight, xxxviii
And lightly mounted, passeth on his way,
Ne Ladies loues, ne sweete entreaties might
Appease his heat, or hastie passage stay;
For he has vowd, to beene aueng’d that day,
(That day it selfe him seemed all too long:)
On him, that did _Pyrochles_ deare dismay:
So proudly pricketh on his courser strong,
And _Atin_ aie him pricks with spurs of shame and wrong.
FOOTNOTES:
[580] Arg. 2 _vnbinds_:] _vnbinds_ 1596: _vntyes_, _1590_
[581] 3, 4 _as in 1596_ (_except_ _Attin Gymochles_ _1596_): _Who him
sore wounds, whiles Atin to Gymochles for ayd flyes._ _1590_
[582] iii 2 chaffer _1609_
[583] iv 5 sell _1590_, _1596_
[584] v 9 doe me not much fayl _1590_
[585] viii 7 hurtle] hurle, _1596_: hurlen _1609_
[586] warlike] warelike _1596_
[587] x 7 enimye _1590_: enimies _1596_
[588] 8 relast _1596_
[589] xii 8 by] but _conj. ed._
[590] xv 3 atchieu’d _1590 &c._
[591] 9 who selfe] whose selfe _1609_
[592] xvi 8 a read, _1596_
[593] xvii 8 occasion _1590_: Occasion _1596_
[594] xviii 5 embayling _1590_: _corr. F. E._
[595] xix 4 shee] hee _1590_, _1596_
[596] 7 do] garre _1590_
[597] xxi 7 occasion _1609_
[598] xxii 5 spight] spright _1609_
[599] 6 fyer _1590_: fier _1609_
[600] 7 bright _1590_, _1596_
[601] xxiii 1 _that_] _the_ 1609
[602] xxiv 8 agayne. _1596_
[603] xxvii 3 her] his _1596_
[604] 6 trasforme _1590_
[605] xxviii 2 he,] he _1590_, _1596_
[606] xxix 5 pricking] prickling _1590_
[607] xxxi 5 Gaynd in _Nemea_] In _Netmus_ gayned _1590_: _Nemus_ _F.
E._
[608] xxxiii 3 lights _1596_
[609] xxxiv 6 conceit _1609_
[610] 8 So, he them _1590_, _1596_
[611] xxxvi 2 Vp,] vp, _1590_, _1596_
_Cant. VI._
[Illustration:
_Guyon is of immodest Merth[612]
led into loose desire,
Fights with Cymochles, whiles his brother
burnes in furious fire._
]
A Harder lesson, to learne Continence i
In ioyous pleasure, then in grieuous paine:
For sweetnesse doth allure the weaker sence
So strongly, that vneathes it can refraine
From that, which feeble nature couets faine;
But griefe and wrath, that be her enemies,
And foes of life, she better can restraine[613];
Yet vertue vauntes in both their[614] victories,
And _Guyon_ in them all shewes goodly maisteries.
Whom bold _Cymochles_ trauelling to find, ii
With cruell purpose bent to wreake on him
The wrath, which _Atin_ kindled in his mind,
Came to a riuer, by whose vtmost brim
Wayting to passe, he saw whereas did swim
A long the shore, as swift as glaunce of eye,
A litle Gondelay, bedecked trim
With boughes and arbours wouen cunningly,
That like a litle forrest seemed outwardly.
And therein sate a Ladie fresh and faire, iii
Making sweet solace to her selfe alone;
Sometimes she sung, as loud as larke in aire,
Sometimes she laught, that nigh her breth was gone,[615]
Yet was there not with her else any one,
That might to her[616] moue cause of meriment:
Matter of merth enough, though there were none,[617]
She could deuise, and thousand waies inuent,
To feede her foolish humour, and vaine iolliment.
Which when farre off _Cymochles_ heard, and saw, iv
He loudly cald to such, as were a bord,
The little barke vnto the shore to draw,
And him to ferrie ouer that deepe ford:
The merry marriner vnto his word
Soone hearkned, and her painted bote streightway
Turnd to the shore, where that same warlike Lord
She in receiu’d; but _Atin_ by no way
She would admit, albe the knight her much did pray.
Eftsoones her shallow ship away did slide, v
More swift, then swallow sheres the liquid skie,
Withouten oare or Pilot it to guide,
Or winged canuas with the wind to flie,
Only she turn’d a pin, and by and by
It cut away vpon the yielding waue,
Ne cared she her course for to apply:
For it was taught the way, which she would haue,
And both from rocks and flats it selfe could wisely saue.
And all the way, the wanton Damzell found vi
New merth, her passenger to entertaine:
For she in pleasant purpose did abound,
And greatly ioyed merry tales to faine,
Of which a store-house did with her remaine,
Yet seemed, nothing well they her became;
For all her words she drownd with laughter vaine,
And wanted grace in vtt’ring of the same,
That turned all her pleasance to a scoffing game.
And other whiles vaine toyes she would deuize vii
As her fantasticke wit did most delight,
Sometimes her head she fondly would aguize
With gaudie girlonds, or fresh flowrets dight
About her necke, or rings of rushes plight;
Sometimes to doe him laugh, she would assay
To laugh at shaking of[618] the leaues light,
Or to behold the water worke, and play
About her litle frigot, therein making way.
Her light behauiour, and loose dalliaunce viii
Gaue wondrous great contentment to the knight,
That of his way he had no souenaunce,
Nor care of vow’d reuenge, and cruell fight,
But to weake wench did yeeld his martiall might.
So easie was to quench his flamed mind
With one sweet drop of sensuall delight,[619]
So easie is, t’appease the stormie wind
Of malice in the calme of pleasant womankind.
Diuerse discourses in their way they spent, ix
Mongst which _Cymochles_ of her questioned,
Both what she was, and what that vsage ment,
Which in her cot she daily practised.
Vaine man (said she) that wouldest be reckoned
A straunger in thy home, and ignoraunt
Of _Phædria_ (for so my name is red)
Of _Phædria_, thine owne fellow seruaunt;
For thou to serue _Acrasia_ thy selfe doest vaunt.
In this wide Inland sea, that hight by name x
The _Idle lake_, my wandring ship I row,
That knowes her port, and thither sailes by ayme,
Ne care, ne feare I, how the wind do blow,
Or whether swift I wend, or whether slow:
Both slow and swift a like do serue my tourne,
Ne swelling _Neptune_, ne loud thundring _Ioue_
Can chaunge my cheare, or make me euer mourne;
My litle boat can safely passe this perilous bourne.
Whiles thus she talked, and whiles thus she toyd, xi
They were farre past the passage, which he spake,
And come vnto an Island, waste and voyd,
That floted in the midst of that great lake,
There her small Gondelay her port did make,
And that gay paire issuing on the shore
Disburdned her. Their way they forward take
Into the land, that lay them faire before,
Whose pleasaunce she him shew’d, and plentifull great store.
It was a chosen plot of fertile land, xii
Emongst wide waues set, like a litle nest,
As if it had by Natures cunning hand[620]
Bene choisely picked out from all the rest,
And laid forth for ensample of the best:
No daintie flowre or herbe, that growes on ground,
No arboret with painted blossomes drest,
And smelling sweet, but there it might be found
To bud out faire, and her sweet smels throw[621] all around.
No tree, whose braunches did not brauely spring; xiii
No braunch, whereon a fine bird did not sit:
No bird, but did her shrill notes sweetly sing;
No song but did containe a louely dit:
Trees, braunches, birds, and songs were framed fit,
For to allure fraile mind to carelesse ease.
Carelesse the man soone woxe, and his weake wit
Was ouercome of thing, that did him please;
So pleased, did his wrathfull purpose faire appease.
Thus when she had his eyes and senses fed xiv
With false delights, and fild with pleasures vaine,
Into a shadie dale she soft him led,
And laid him downe vpon a grassie plaine;
And her sweet selfe without dread, or disdaine,
She set beside, laying his head disarm’d
In her loose lap, it softly to sustaine,
Where soone he slumbred, fearing not be harm’d,
The whiles with a loud[622] lay she thus him sweetly charm’d.
Behold, O man, that toilesome paines doest take,[623] xv
The flowres, the fields, and all that pleasant growes,
How they themselues doe thine ensample make,
Whiles nothing enuious nature them forth throwes
Out of her fruitfull lap; how, no man[624] knowes,
They spring, they bud, they blossome fresh and faire,
And deck the world with their rich pompous showes;
Yet no man for them taketh paines or care,
Yet no man to them can his carefull paines compare.
The lilly, Ladie of the flowring field, xvi
The Flowre-deluce, her louely Paramoure,
Bid thee to them thy fruitlesse labours yield,
And soone leaue off this toylesome wearie stoure;
Loe loe how braue she decks her bounteous boure,
With silken curtens and gold couerlets,
Therein to shrowd her sumptuous Belamoure,
Yet neither spinnes nor cardes, ne cares nor frets,
But to her mother Nature all her care she lets.
Why then dost thou, O man, that of them all xvii
Art Lord, and eke of nature Soueraine,
Wilfully make thy selfe a wretched thrall,
And wast thy ioyous houres in needlesse paine,
Seeking for daunger and aduentures vaine?
What bootes it all to haue, and nothing vse?
Who shall him rew, that swimming in the maine,
Will die for thirst[625], and water doth refuse?
Refuse such fruitlesse toile, and present pleasures chuse.
By this she had him lulled fast a sleepe, xviii
That of no worldly[626] thing he care did take;
Then she with liquors strong his eyes did steepe,
That nothing should him hastily awake:
So she him left, and did her selfe betake
Vnto her boat againe, with which she cleft
The slouthfull waue[627] of that great griesly[628] lake;
Soone she that Island farre behind her left,
And now is come to that same place, where first she weft.
By this time was the worthy _Guyon_ brought xix
Vnto the other side of that wide strond,
Where she was rowing, and for passage sought:
Him needed not long call, she soone to hond
Her ferry brought, where him she byding fond,
With his sad guide; himselfe she tooke a boord,
But the _Blacke Palmer_ suffred still to stond,
Ne would for price, or prayers once affoord,
To ferry that old man ouer the perlous foord.
_Guyon_ was loath to leaue his guide behind, xx
Yet being entred, might not backe retyre;
For the flit barke, obaying to her mind,
Forth launched quickly, as she did desire,
Ne gaue him leaue to bid that aged sire
Adieu, but nimbly ran her wonted course
Through the dull billowes thicke as troubled mire,
Whom neither wind out of their seat could forse,
Nor timely tides did driue out of their sluggish sourse.
And by the way, as was her wonted guize, xxi
Her merry fit she freshly gan to reare,
And did of ioy and iollitie deuize,
Her selfe to cherish, and her guest to cheare:
The knight was courteous, and did not forbeare
Her honest merth and pleasaunce to partake;
But when he saw her toy, and gibe, and geare,
And passe the bonds[629] of modest merimake,
Her dalliance he despisd, and follies did forsake.
Yet she still followed her former stile, xxii
And said, and did all that mote him delight,
Till they arriued in that pleasant Ile,
Where sleeping late she left her other knight.
But when as _Guyon_ of that land had sight,
He wist himselfe amisse, and angry said;
Ah Dame, perdie ye haue not doen me right,
Thus to mislead me, whiles I you obaid:
Me litle needed from my right way to haue straid.
Faire Sir (quoth she) be not displeasd at all; xxiii
Who fares on sea, may not commaund his way,
Ne wind and weather at his pleasure call:
The sea is wide, and easie for to stray;
The wind vnstable, and doth neuer stay.
But here a while ye may in safety rest,
Till season serue new passage to assay;
Better safe port, then be in seas distrest.
Therewith she laught, and did her earnest end in iest.
But he halfe discontent, mote nathelesse xxiv
Himselfe appease, and issewd forth on shore:
The ioyes whereof, and happie fruitfulnesse,
Such as he saw,[630] she gan him lay before,
And all though pleasant, yet she made much more:
The fields did laugh, the flowres did freshly spring,
The trees did bud, and earely blossomes bore,
And all the quire of birds did sweetly sing,
And told that gardins pleasures in their caroling.
And she more sweet, then any bird on bough, xxv
Would oftentimes emongst them beare a part,
And striue to passe (as she could well enough)
Their natiue musicke by her skilfull art:
So did she all, that might his constant hart
Withdraw from thought of warlike enterprize,
And drowne in dissolute delights apart,
Where noyse of armes, or vew of martiall guize
Might not reuiue desire of knightly exercize.
But he was wise, and warie of her will, xxvi
And euer held his hand vpon his hart:
Yet would not seeme so rude, and thewed ill,
As to despise so courteous seeming part,
That gentle Ladie did to him impart,
But fairely tempring fond desire subdewd,
And euer her desired to depart.
She list not heare, but her disports poursewd,
And euer bad him stay, till time the tide renewd.
And now by this, _Cymochles_ howre was spent, xxvii
That he awoke out of his idle dreme,
And shaking off his drowzie dreriment,
Gan him auize, how ill did him beseeme,
In slouthfull sleepe his molten hart to steme,
And quench the brond of his conceiued ire.
Tho vp he started, stird with shame extreme,
Ne staied for his Damzell to inquire,
But marched to the strond, there[631] passage to require.
And in the way he with Sir _Guyon_ met, xxviii
Accompanyde with _Phædria_ the faire,
Eftsoones he gan to rage, and inly fret,
Crying, Let be that Ladie debonaire,
Thou recreant knight, and soone thy selfe prepaire
To battell, if thou meane her loue to gaine:
Loe, loe alreadie, how the fowles in aire
Doe flocke, awaiting shortly to obtaine
Thy carcasse for their pray, the guerdon of thy paine.
And therewithall he fiercely at him flew, xxix
And with importune[632] outrage him assayld;
Who soone prepard to field, his sword forth drew,
And him with equall value counteruayld:
Their mightie strokes their haberieons dismayld,
And naked made each others manly spalles;
The mortall steele despiteously entayld
Deepe in their flesh, quite through the yron walles,
That a large purple streme adown their giambeux falles.
_Cymochles_, that had neuer met before[633] xxx
So puissant foe, with enuious despight
His proud presumed force increased more,
Disdeigning to be held so long in fight;
Sir _Guyon_ grudging not so much his might,
As those vnknightly raylings, which he spoke,
With wrathfull fire his courage kindled bright,
Thereof deuising shortly to be wroke,
And doubling all his powres, redoubled euery stroke.
Both of them high attonce their hands enhaunst, xxxi
And both attonce their huge blowes downe did sway;
_Cymochles_ sword on _Guyons_ shield yglaunst,
And thereof nigh one quarter sheard away;
But _Guyons_ angry blade so fierce did play
On th’others helmet, which as _Titan_ shone,
That quite it cloue his plumed crest in tway,
And bared all his head vnto the bone;
Wherewith astonisht, still he stood, as senselesse stone.
Still as he stood, faire _Phædria_, that beheld xxxii
That deadly daunger, soone atweene them ran;
And at their feet her selfe most humbly feld,
Crying with pitteous voice, and count’nance wan;
Ah well away, most noble Lords, how can
Your cruell eyes endure so pitteous sight,
To shed your liues on ground? wo worth the man,
That first did teach the cursed steele to bight
In his owne flesh, and make way to the liuing spright.
If euer loue of Ladie did empierce xxxiii
Your yron brestes, or pittie could find place,
Withhold your bloudie hands from battell fierce,
And sith for me ye fight, to me this grace
Both yeeld, to stay your deadly strife a space.
They stayd a while: and forth she gan proceed:
Most wretched woman, and of wicked race,
That am the author of this hainous deed,
And cause of death betweene two doughtie knights doe breed.
But if for me ye fight, or me will serue, xxxiv
Not this rude kind of battell, nor these armes
Are meet, the which doe men in bale to sterue,
And dolefull sorrow heape with deadly harmes:
Such cruell game my scarmoges disarmes:
Another warre, and other weapons I
Doe loue, where loue does giue his sweet alarmes,
Without bloudshed, and where the enemy
Does yeeld vnto his foe a pleasant victory.
Debatefull strife, and cruell enmitie xxxv
The famous name of knighthood fowly shend[634];
But louely peace, and gentle amitie,
And in Amours the passing houres to spend,
The mightie martiall hands doe most commend;
Of loue they euer greater glory bore,
Then of their armes: _Mars_ is _Cupidoes_ frend,
And is for _Venus_ loues renowmed more,
Then all his wars and spoiles, the which he did of yore.
Therewith she sweetly smyld. They though full bent[635] xxxvi
To proue extremities of bloudie fight,
Yet at her speach their rages gan relent,
And calme the sea of their tempestuous spight,
Such powre haue pleasing words: such is the might
Of courteous clemencie in gentle hart.
Now after all was ceast, the Faery knight
Besought that Damzell suffer him depart,
And yield him readie passage to that other part.
She no lesse glad, then he desirous was xxxvii
Of his departure thence; for of her ioy
And vaine delight she saw he light did pas,
A foe of folly and immodest toy,
Still solemne sad, or still disdainfull coy,
Delighting all in armes and cruell warre,
That her sweet peace and pleasures did annoy,
Troubled with terrour and vnquiet iarre,
That she well pleased was thence to amoue him farre.
Tho him she brought abord, and her swift bote xxxviii
Forthwith directed to that further strand;
The which on the dull waues did lightly flote
And soone arriued on the shallow sand,
Where gladsome _Guyon_ salied[636] forth to land,
And to that Damzell thankes gaue for reward.
Vpon that shore he spied _Atin_ stand,
There by[637] his maister left, when late he far’d
In _Phædrias_ flit[638] barke ouer that perlous shard.
Well could he him remember, sith of late xxxix
He with _Pyrochles_ sharp debatement made;
Streight gan he him reuile, and bitter rate,
As shepheards curre, that in darke euenings shade
Hath tracted forth some saluage beastes[639] trade;
Vile Miscreant (said he) whither doest thou flie
The shame and death, which will thee soone inuade?
What coward hand shall doe thee next to die,
That art thus foully fled from famous enemie?
With that he stiffely shooke his steelehead dart: xl
But sober _Guyon_, hearing him so raile,
Though somewhat moued in his mightie hart,
Yet with strong reason maistred passion fraile,
And passed fairely forth. He turning taile,
Backe to the strond retyrd, and there still stayd,
Awaiting passage, which him late did faile;
The whiles _Cymochles_ with that wanton mayd
The hastie heat of his auowd reuenge delayd.
Whylest[640] there the varlet stood, he saw from farre xli
An armed knight, that towards him fast ran,
He ran on foot, as if in lucklesse warre
His forlorne steed from him the victour wan;
He seemed breathlesse, hartlesse, faint, and wan,
And all his armour sprinckled was with bloud,
And soyld with durtie gore, that no man can
Discerne the hew thereof. He neuer stood,
But bent his hastie course towards the idle flood.
The varlet saw, when to the flood he came, xlii
How without stop or stay he fiercely lept,
And deepe him selfe beducked[641] in the same,
That in the lake his loftie crest was steept,
Ne of his safetie seemed care he kept,
But with his raging armes he rudely flasht[642]
The waues about, and all his armour swept,
That all the bloud and filth away was washt,
Yet still he bet the water, and the billowes dasht.
_Atin_ drew nigh, to weet what it mote bee; xliii
For much he wondred at that vncouth sight;
Whom should he, but his owne deare Lord, there see,
His owne deare Lord _Pyrochles_, in sad plight,
Readie to drowne himselfe for fell despight.
Harrow now out, and well away, he cryde,
What dismall day hath lent this cursed light,[643]
To see my Lord so deadly damnifyde?[644]
_Pyrochles_, O _Pyrochles_, what is thee betyde?
I burne, I burne, I burne, then loud he cryde, xliv
O how I burne with implacable fire,
Yet nought can quench mine inly flaming syde,
Nor sea of licour cold, nor lake of mire,
Nothing but death can doe me to respire.
Ah be it (said he) from _Pyrochles_ farre
After pursewing death once to require,
Or think, that ought those puissant hands may marre:
Death is for wretches borne vnder vnhappie starre.
Perdie, then is it[645] fit for me (said he) xlv
That am, I weene, most wretched man aliue,
Burning[646] in flames, yet no flames can I see,
And dying daily, daily yet reuiue:
O _Atin_, helpe to me last death to giue.
The varlet at his plaint was grieued so sore,
That his deepe wounded hart in two did riue,
And his owne health remembring now no more,
Did follow that ensample, which he blam’d afore.
Into the lake he lept, his Lord to ayd, xlvi
(So Loue the dread of daunger doth despise)
And of him catching hold him strongly stayd
From drowning. But more happie he, then wise
Of that seas nature did him not auise.
The waues thereof so slow and sluggish were,
Engrost with mud, which did them foule agrise,
That euery weightie thing they did vpbeare,
Ne ought mote euer sinke downe to the bottome there.
Whiles thus they strugled in that idle waue, xlvii
And stroue in vaine, the one himselfe to drowne,
The other both from drowning for to saue,
Lo, to that shore one in an auncient gowne,
Whose hoarie locks great grauitie did crowne,
Holding in hand a goodly arming sword,
By fortune came, led with the troublous sowne:
Where drenched deepe he found in that dull ford
The carefull seruant, striuing with his raging Lord.
Him _Atin_ spying, knew right well of yore, xlviii
And loudly cald, Helpe helpe, O _Archimage_;
To saue my Lord, in wretched plight forlore;
Helpe with thy hand, or with thy counsell sage:
Weake hands, but counsell is most strong in age.
Him when the old man saw,[647] he wondred sore,
To see _Pyrochles_ there so rudely rage:
Yet sithens helpe, he saw, he needed more
Then pittie, he in hast approched to the shore.
And cald, _Pyrochles_, what is this, I see? xlix
What hellish furie hath at earst thee hent?
Furious euer I thee knew to bee,
Yet neuer in this straunge astonishment.
These flames, these flames (he cryde) do me torment.
What flames (quoth he) when I thee present see,
In daunger rather to be drent, then brent?
Harrow, the flames, which me consume (said hee)
Ne can be quencht, within my secret bowels bee.
That cursed man, that cruell feend of hell, l
_Furor_, oh _Furor_ hath me thus bedight:
His deadly wounds within my liuers[648] swell,
And his whot fire burnes in mine entrails bright,
Kindled through his infernall brond of spight,
Sith late with him I batteil vaine would boste;
That now I weene _Ioues_ dreaded thunder light
Does scorch not halfe so sore, nor damned ghoste
In flaming _Phlegeton_ does not so felly roste.
Which when as _Archimago_ heard, his griefe li
He knew right well, and him attonce disarmd:
Then searcht his secret wounds, and made a priefe
Of euery place, that was with brusing harmd,
Or with the hidden fire too[649] inly warmd.
Which done, he balmes and herbes thereto applyde,
And euermore[650] with mighty spels them charmd,
That in short space he has them qualifyde,
And him restor’d to health, that would haue algates dyde.
FOOTNOTES:
[612] Arg. 1 _Merth_, _1590_, _1596_
[613] i 7 restraine] abstaine _1590_
[614] 8 their] her _1590_
[615] iii 4 that nigh her breth was gone,] as merry as Pope Ione, _1590_
[616] 6 might to her] to her might _1590_
[617] 7 none _1590 &c._
[618] vii 7 of] off _1590_
[619] viii 7 delight. _1590_
[620] xii 3 hand, _1590 &c._
[621] 9 her sweet smels throw] throwe her sweete smels _1590_
[622] xiv 9 loud] loue _1590_
[623] xv 1 take _1590_, _1596_
[624] 5 no man] noman _1590_
[625] xvii 8 thirst] thrist _1590_
[626] xviii 2 worldly] wordly _1590_
[627] 7 waue] waues _1609_
[628] griesly] griesy _1590_
[629] xxi 8 bounds _1609_
[630] xxiv 4 saw _1596_, _1609_
[631] xxvii 9 there] their _1590_, _1596_
[632] xxix 2 importune] importance _1596_: important _1609_
[633] xxx 1 before, _1590_, _1596_
[634] xxxv 2 shend] shent _1596_
[635] xxxvi 1 bent, _1590_, _1596_
[636] xxxviii 5 salied] sailed _1609_
[637] 8 Thereby _1590_, _1596_
[638] 9 flit] fleet _1609_
[639] xxxix 5 beastez _1609_
[640] xli 1 Whiles _1609_
[641] xlii 3 beduked _1596_
[642] 6 flasht, _1590 &c._
[643] xliii 7 lent but this his cursed light, _1590_
[644] 8 damnifyde _1590_, _1596_
[645] xlv 1 is it] it is _1609_
[646] 3 Burning] But _1596_
[647] xlviii 6 man, saw _1590_: _corr. F. E._
[648] l 3 liuer _1609_
[649] li 5 fire too] fier _1590_
[650] 7 euemore _1596_
_Cant. VII._
[Illustration:
_Guyon findes Mammon[651] in a delue,
Sunning his threasure hore:
Is by him tempted, and led downe,
To see his secret store._
]
As Pilot well expert in perilous waue, i
That to a stedfast starre his course hath bent,
When foggy mistes, or cloudy tempests haue
The faithfull light of that faire lampe yblent,
And couer’d heauen with hideous dreriment,
Vpon his card and compas firmes his eye,
The maisters of his long experiment,
And to them does the steddy helme apply,
Bidding his winged vessell fairely forward fly:[652]
So _Guyon_ hauing lost his trusty guide, ii
Late left beyond that _Ydle lake_, proceedes
Yet on his way, of none accompanide;
And euermore himselfe with comfort feedes,
Of his owne vertues, and prayse-worthy deedes.
So long he yode, yet no aduenture found,
Which fame of her shrill trompet worthy reedes:
For still he traueild through wide wastfull ground,
That nought but desert wildernesse shew’d all around.
At last he came vnto a gloomy glade, iii
Couer’d with boughes and shrubs from heauens light,
Whereas he sitting found in secret shade
An vncouth, saluage, and vnciuile wight,
Of griesly hew, and fowle ill fauour’d sight;
His face with smoke was tand, and eyes were bleard,
His head and beard with sout were ill bedight,
His cole-blacke hands did seeme to haue beene seard
In smithes fire-spitting[653] forge, and nayles like clawes appeard.
His yron coate all ouergrowne with rust, iv
Was vnderneath enueloped with gold,
Whose glistring glosse darkned with filthy dust,
Well yet[654] appeared, to haue beene of old
A worke of rich entayle, and curious mould,
Wouen with antickes and wild Imagery:
And in his lap a masse of coyne he told,
And turned vpsidowne[655], to feede his eye
And[656] couetous desire with his huge threasury.
And round about him lay on euery side v
Great heapes of gold, that neuer could be spent:
Of which some were rude owre, not purifide
Of _Mulcibers_[657] deuouring element;
Some others were new driuen, and distent
Into great Ingoes, and to wedges square;
Some in round plates withouten moniment;
But most were stampt, and in their metall bare
The antique shapes of kings and kesars straunge and rare.
Soone as he _Guyon_ saw, in great affright vi
And hast he rose, for to remoue aside
Those pretious hils from straungers enuious sight,
And downe them poured through an hole full wide,
Into the hollow earth, them there to hide.
But _Guyon_ lightly to him leaping, stayd
His hand, that trembled, as one terrifyde;
And though him selfe were at the sight dismayd,
Yet him perforce restraynd, and to him doubtfull sayd.
What art thou man, (if man at all thou art) vii
That here in desert hast thine habitaunce,
And these rich heapes[658] of wealth doest hide apart
From the worldes eye, and from her right vsaunce?
Thereat with staring eyes fixed askaunce,
In great disdaine, he answerd; Hardy Elfe,
That darest vew my direfull countenaunce,
I read thee rash, and heedlesse of thy selfe,
To trouble my still seate, and heapes of pretious pelfe.
God of the world and worldlings I me call, viii
Great _Mammon_, greatest god below the skye,
That of my plenty poure out vnto all,
And vnto none my graces do enuye:
Riches, renowme, and principality,
Honour, estate, and all this worldes good,
For which men swinck and sweat incessantly,
Fro me do flow into an ample flood,
And in the hollow earth haue their eternall brood.
Wherefore if me thou deigne to serue and sew, ix
At thy commaund lo all these mountaines bee;
Or if to thy great mind, or greedy vew
All these may not suffise, there shall to thee
Ten times so much be numbred francke and free.
_Mammon_ (said he) thy godheades vaunt is vaine,
And idle offers of thy golden fee;
To them, that couet such eye-glutting gaine,
Proffer thy giftes, and fitter seruaunts entertaine.
Me ill besits[659], that in der-doing armes, x
And honours suit my vowed dayes do spend,
Vnto thy bounteous baytes, and pleasing charmes,
With which weake men thou witchest, to attend:
Regard of worldly mucke doth fowly blend,
And low abase the high heroicke spright,
That ioyes for crownes and kingdomes to contend;
Faire shields, gay steedes, bright armes be my delight:
Those be the riches fit for an aduent’rous knight.
Vaine glorious Elfe (said he) doest not thou weet, xi
That money can thy wantes at will supply?
Sheilds, steeds, and armes, and all things for thee meet
It can puruay in twinckling of an eye;
And crownes and kingdomes to thee multiply.
Do not I kings create, and throw the crowne
Sometimes to him, that low in dust doth ly?
And him that raignd, into his rowme thrust downe,
And whom I lust, do heape with glory and renowne?
All otherwise (said he) I riches read, xii
And deeme them roote of all disquietnesse;
First got with guile, and then preseru’d with dread,
And after spent with pride and lauishnesse,
Leauing behind them griefe and heauinesse.
Infinite mischiefes of them do arize,
Strife,[660] and debate, bloudshed, and bitternesse,
Outrageous wrong, and hellish couetize,
That noble heart as[661] great dishonour doth despize.
Ne thine be kingdomes, ne the scepters thine; xiii
But realmes and rulers thou doest both confound,
And loyall truth to treason doest incline;
Witnesse the guiltlesse bloud pourd oft on ground,
The crowned often slaine, the slayer cround,
The sacred Diademe in peeces rent,
And purple robe gored with many a wound;
Castles surprizd, great cities sackt and brent:
So mak’st thou kings, and gaynest wrongfull gouernement.
Long were to tell the troublous stormes, that tosse xiv
The priuate state, and make the life vnsweet:
Who swelling sayles in Caspian sea doth crosse,
And in frayle wood on _Adrian_ gulfe doth fleet,
Doth not, I weene, so many euils meet.
Then _Mammon_ wexing wroth, And why then, said,
Are mortall men so fond and vndiscreet,
So euill thing to seeke vnto their ayd,
And hauing not complaine, and hauing it vpbraid?
Indeede (quoth he) through fowle intemperaunce, xv
Frayle men are oft captiu’d to couetise:
But would they thinke, with how small allowaunce
Vntroubled Nature doth her selfe suffise,
Such superfluities they would despise,
Which with sad cares empeach our natiue ioyes:
At the well head the purest streames arise:
But mucky filth his braunching armes annoyes,
And with vncomely weedes the gentle waue accloyes.
The antique world, in his first flowring youth, xvi
Found no defect in his Creatours grace,
But with glad thankes, and vnreproued truth,
The gifts of soueraigne bountie did embrace:
Like Angels life was then mens happy cace;
But later ages pride, like corn-fed steed,
Abusd her plenty, and fat swolne encreace
To all licentious lust, and gan exceed
The measure of her meane, and naturall first need.
Then gan a cursed hand the quiet wombe xvii
Of his great Grandmother with steele to wound,
And the hid treasures in her sacred tombe,
With Sacriledge to dig. Therein he found
Fountaines of gold and siluer to abound,
Of which the matter of his huge desire
And pompous pride eftsoones he did compound;
Then auarice gan through his veines inspire
His greedy flames, and kindled life-deuouring fire.
Sonne (said he then) let be thy bitter scorne, xviii
And leaue the rudenesse of that[662] antique age
To them, that liu’d therein in state forlorne;
Thou that doest liue in later times, must wage
Thy workes for wealth, and life for gold engage.
If then thee list my offred grace to vse,
Take what thou please of all this surplusage;
If thee list not, leaue haue thou to refuse:
But thing refused, do not afterward accuse.
Me list not (said the Elfin knight) receaue xix
Thing offred, till I know it well be got,
Ne wote I, but thou didst these goods bereaue
From rightfull owner by vnrighteous lot,
Or that bloud guiltinesse[663] or guile them blot.
Perdy (quoth he) yet neuer eye did vew,
Ne toung did tell, ne hand these handled not,
But safe I haue them kept in secret mew,
From heauens sight, and powre of all which them pursew.
What secret place (quoth he) can safely hold xx
So huge a masse, and hide from heauens eye?
Or where hast thou thy wonne, that so much gold
Thou canst preserue from wrong and robbery?
Come thou (quoth he) and see. So by and by
Through that thicke couert he him led, and found
A darkesome way, which no man could descry,
That deepe descended through the hollow ground,
And was with dread and horrour compassed around.
At length they came into a larger space, xxi
That stretcht it selfe into an ample plaine,
Through which a beaten broad high way did trace,
That streight did lead to _Plutoes_ griesly raine:
By that wayes side, there sate infernall[664] Payne,
And fast beside him sat tumultuous Strife:
The one in hand an yron whip did straine,
The other brandished a bloudy knife,
And both did gnash their teeth, and both did threaten life.
On thother side in one consort there sate, xxii
Cruell Reuenge, and rancorous Despight,
Disloyall Treason, and hart-burning Hate,
But gnawing Gealosie out of their sight
Sitting alone, his bitter lips did bight,
And trembling Feare still to and fro did fly,
And found no place, where safe he shroud him might,
Lamenting Sorrow did in darknesse lye,
And Shame his vgly face did hide from liuing eye.
And ouer them sad Horrour[665] with grim hew, xxiii
Did alwayes sore, beating his yron wings;
And after him Owles and Night-rauens flew,
The hatefull messengers of heauy things,
Of death and dolour telling sad tidings;
Whiles sad _Celeno_, sitting on a clift,
A song of bale and bitter sorrow sings,
That hart of flint a sunder could haue rift:
Which hauing ended, after him she flyeth swift.
All these before the gates of _Pluto_ lay, xxiv
By whom they passing, spake vnto them nought.
But th’Elfin knight with wonder all the way
Did feed his eyes, and fild his inner thought.
At last him to a litle dore he brought,
That to the gate of Hell, which gaped wide,
Was next adioyning, ne them parted ought[666]:
Betwixt them both was but a litle stride,
That did the house of Richesse from hell-mouth diuide.
Before the dore sat selfe-consuming Care, xxv
Day and night keeping wary watch and ward,
For feare least Force or Fraud should vnaware
Breake in, and spoile the treasure there in gard:
Ne would he suffer Sleepe once thither-ward
Approch, albe his drowsie den were next;
For next to death is Sleepe to be compard:
Therefore his house is vnto his annext;
Here Sleep, there Richesse, and Hel-gate them both betwext[667].
So soone as _Mammon_ there arriu’d, the dore xxvi
To him did open, and affoorded way;
Him followed eke Sir _Guyon_ euermore,
Ne darkenesse him, ne daunger might dismay.
Soone as he entred was, the dore streight way
Did shut, and from behind it forth there lept
An vgly feend, more fowle then dismall day,
The which with monstrous stalke behind him stept,
And euer as he went, dew watch vpon him kept.
Well hoped he, ere long that hardy guest, xxvii
If euer couetous hand, or lustfull eye,
Or lips he layd on thing, that likt him best,
Or euer sleepe his eye-strings did vntye,
Should be his pray. And therefore still on hye
He ouer him did hold his cruell clawes,
Threatning with greedy gripe to do him dye
And rend in peeces with his rauenous pawes,
If euer he transgrest the fatall _Stygian_ lawes.
That houses forme within was rude and strong, xxviii
Like an huge caue, hewne out of rocky clift,
From whose rough vaut the ragged breaches hong,
Embost with massy gold of glorious gift,
And with rich metall loaded euery rift,
That heauy ruine they did seeme to threat;
And ouer them _Arachne_ high did lift
Her cunning web, and spred her subtile net,
Enwrapped in fowle smoke and clouds more blacke then let.
Both roofe, and floore, and wals were all of gold, xxix
But ouergrowne with dust and old decay,
And hid in darkenesse, that none could behold
The hew thereof: for vew of chearefull day
Did neuer in that house it selfe display,
But a faint shadow of vncertain light;
Such as a lamp, whose life does fade away:
Or as the Moone cloathed with clowdy night,
Does shew to him, that walkes in feare and sad affright.
In all that rowme was nothing to be seene, xxx
But huge great yron chests and coffers strong,
All bard with double bends, that none could weene
Them to efforce by violence or wrong;
On euery side they placed were along.
But all the ground with sculs was scattered,
And dead mens bones, which round about were flong,
Whose liues, it seemed, whilome there were shed,
And their vile carcases now left vnburied.
They forward passe, ne _Guyon_ yet spoke[668] word, xxxi
Till that they came vnto an yron dore,
Which to them opened of his[669] owne accord,
And shewd of richesse such exceeding store,
As eye of man did neuer see before;
Ne euer could within one place be found,
Though all the wealth, which is, or was of yore,
Could gathered be through all the world around,
And that aboue were added to that vnder ground.
The charge thereof vnto a couetous Spright xxxii
Commaunded was, who thereby did attend,
And warily awaited day and night,
From other couetous feends it to defend,
Who it to rob and ransacke did intend.
Then _Mammon_[670] turning to that warriour, said;
Loe here the worldes blis, loe here the end,
To which all men do ayme, rich to be made:
Such grace now to be happy, is before thee laid.
Certes (said he) I n’ill thine offred grace, xxxiii
Ne to be made so happy do intend:
Another blis before mine eyes I place,
Another happinesse, another end.
To them, that list, these base regardes I lend:
But I in armes, and in atchieuements braue,
Do rather choose my flitting houres to spend,
And to be Lord of those, that riches haue,
Then them to haue my selfe, and be their seruile sclaue[671].
Thereat the feend his gnashing teeth did grate, xxxiv
And grieu’d, so long to lacke his greedy pray;
For well he weened, that so glorious bayte
Would tempt his guest, to take thereof assay:
Had he so doen, he had him snatcht away,
More light then Culuer in the Faulcons fist.
Eternall God thee saue from such decay.
But whenas _Mammon_ saw his purpose mist,
Him to entrap vnwares another way he wist.
Thence forward he him led, and shortly brought xxxv
Vnto another rowme, whose dore forthright,
To him did open, as it had beene taught:
Therein an hundred raunges weren pight,
And hundred fornaces all burning bright;
By euery fornace many feends did bide,
Deformed creatures, horrible in sight,
And euery feend his busie paines applide,
To melt the golden metall, ready to be tride.
One with great bellowes gathered filling aire, xxxvi
And with forst wind the fewell did inflame;
Another did the dying bronds repaire
With yron[672] toungs, and sprinckled oft the same
With liquid waues, fiers _Vulcans_ rage to tame,
Who maistring them, renewd his former heat;
Some scumd the drosse, that from the metall came;
Some stird the molten owre with ladles great;
And euery one did swincke, and euery one did sweat.
But when as[673] earthly wight they present saw, xxxvii
Glistring in armes and battailous aray,
From their whot worke they did themselues withdraw
To wonder at the sight: for till that day,
They neuer creature saw, that came[674] that way.
Their staring eyes sparckling with feruent fire,
And vgly shapes did nigh the man dismay,
That were it not for shame, he would retire,
Till that him thus bespake their soueraigne Lord and sire.
Behold, thou Faeries sonne, with mortall eye, xxxviii
That liuing eye before did neuer see:
The thing, that thou didst craue so earnestly,
To weet, whence all the wealth late shewd by mee,
Proceeded, lo now is reueald to thee.
Here is the fountaine of the worldes good:
Now therefore, if thou wilt enriched bee,
Auise thee well, and chaunge thy wilfull mood,
Least thou perhaps hereafter wish, and be withstood.
Suffise it then, thou Money God (quoth hee) xxxix
That all thine idle offers I refuse.
All that I need I haue; what needeth mee
To couet more, then I haue cause to vse?
With such vaine shewes thy worldlings vile abuse:
But giue me leaue to follow mine emprise.
_Mammon_ was much displeasd, yet no’te he chuse,
But beare the rigour of his bold mesprise[675],
And thence him forward led, him further to entise.
He brought him through a darksome narrow strait, xl
To a broad gate, all built of beaten gold:
The gate was open, but therein did wait
A sturdy villein, striding stiffe and bold,
As if[676] that[677] highest God defie he would;[678]
In his right hand an yron club he held,
But[679] he himselfe was all of golden[680] mould,
Yet had both life and sence, and well could weld
That cursed weapon, when his cruell foes he queld.
_Disdayne_ he called was, and did disdaine xli
To be so cald, and who so did him call:
Sterne was his[681] looke, and full of stomacke vaine,
His portaunce terrible, and stature tall,
Far passing th’hight of men terrestriall[682];
Like an huge Gyant of the _Titans_ race,
That made him scorne all creatures great and small,
And with his pride all others powre deface:
More fit amongst blacke fiendes, then men to haue his place.
Soone as those glitterand armes he did espye, xlii
That with their brightnesse made that darknesse light,
His harmefull club he gan to hurtle hye,
And threaten batteill to the Faery knight;
Who likewise gan himselfe to batteill dight,
Till _Mammon_ did his hasty hand withhold,
And counseld him abstaine from perilous fight:
For nothing might abash the villein bold,
Ne mortall steele emperce his miscreated mould.
So hauing him with reason pacifide, xliii
And the fiers Carle commaunding to forbeare,
He brought him in. The rowme was large and wide,
As it some Gyeld or solemne Temple weare:
Many great golden pillours did vpbeare
The massy roofe, and riches huge sustayne,
And euery pillour decked was full deare
With crownes and Diademes, and titles vaine,
Which mortall Princes wore, whiles they on earth did rayne.
A route of people there assembled were, xliv
Of euery sort and nation vnder skye,
Which with great vprore preaced to draw nere
To th’vpper part, where was aduaunced hye
A stately siege of soueraigne maiestye;
And thereon sat a woman gorgeous gay,
And richly clad in robes of royaltye,
That neuer earthly Prince in such aray
His glory did enhaunce, and pompous pride display.
Her face right wondrous faire did seeme to bee, xlv
That her broad beauties beam great brightnes threw
Through the dim shade, that all men might it see:
Yet was not that same her owne natiue hew,
But wrought by art and counterfetted shew,
Thereby more louers vnto her to call;
Nath’lesse most heauenly faire in deed and vew
She by creation was, till she did fall;
Thenceforth she sought for helps, to cloke her crime withall.
There, as in glistring glory she did sit, xlvi
She held a great gold chaine ylincked well,
Whose vpper end to highest heauen was knit,
And lower part did reach to lowest Hell;
And all that preace did round about her swell,
To catchen hold of that long chaine, thereby
To clime aloft, and others to excell:
That was _Ambition_, rash desire to sty,
And euery lincke thereof a step of dignity.
Some thought to raise themselues to high degree, xlvii
By riches and vnrighteous reward,
Some by close shouldring, some by flatteree;
Others through friends, others for base regard;
And all by wrong wayes for themselues prepard.
Those that were vp themselues, kept others low,
Those that were low themselues, held others hard,
Ne suffred them to rise or greater grow,
But euery one did striue his fellow downe to throw.
Which whenas _Guyon_ saw, he gan inquire, xlviii
What meant that preace about that Ladies throne,
And what she was that did so high aspire.
Him _Mammon_ answered; That goodly one,
Whom all that folke with such contention,
Do flocke about, my deare, my[683] daughter is;
Honour and dignitie from her alone[684]
Deriued are, and all this worldes blis
For which ye men do striue: few get, but many mis.
And faire _Philotime_ she rightly hight, xlix
The fairest wight that wonneth vnder skye,
But that this darksome neather world her light
Doth dim with horrour and deformitie,
Worthy of heauen and hye felicitie,
From whence the gods haue her for enuy thrust:
But sith thou hast found fauour in mine eye,
Thy spouse I will her make, if that thou lust,
That she may thee aduance for workes and merites iust.
Gramercy _Mammon_[685] (said the gentle knight) l
For so great grace and offred high estate;
But I, that am fraile flesh and earthly wight,
Vnworthy match for such immortall mate
My selfe well wote, and mine vnequall fate;
And were I not, yet is my trouth yplight,
And loue auowd to other Lady late,
That to remoue the same I haue no might:
To chaunge loue causelesse is reproch to warlike knight.
_Mammon_ emmoued was with inward wrath; li
Yet forcing it to faine, him forth thence led
Through griesly shadowes by a beaten path,
Into a gardin goodly garnished
With hearbs and fruits, whose kinds mote not be red:
Not such, as earth out of her fruitfull woomb
Throwes forth to men, sweet and well sauoured,
But direfull deadly blacke both leafe and bloom,
Fit to adorne the dead, and decke the drery toombe.
There mournfull _Cypresse_ grew in greatest store, lii
And trees of bitter _Gall_, and _Heben_ sad,
Dead sleeping _Poppy_, and blacke _Hellebore_,
Cold _Coloquintida_, and _Tetra_ mad,
Mortall _Samnitis_, and _Cicuta_ bad,
With which[686] th’vniust _Atheniens_ made to dy
Wise _Socrates_, who thereof quaffing glad
Pourd out his life, and last Philosophy
To the faire _Critias_ his dearest Belamy.
The _Gardin_[687] of _Proserpina_ this hight; liii
And in the midst thereof a siluer seat,
With a thicke Arber goodly ouer dight,
In which she often vsd from open heat
Her selfe to shroud, and pleasures to entreat.
Next thereunto did grow a goodly tree,
With braunches broad dispred and body great,
Clothed with leaues, that none the wood mote see
And loaden all with fruit as thicke as it might bee.
Their fruit were golden apples glistring bright, liv
That goodly was their glory to behold,
On earth like neuer grew, ne liuing wight
Like euer saw, but they from hence were sold;
For those, which _Hercules_ with conquest bold
Got from great _Atlas_ daughters, hence began,
And planted there, did bring forth fruit of gold:
And those with which th’[688]_Eubæan_ young man wan
Swift _Atalanta_, when through craft he her out ran.
Here also sprong that goodly golden fruit, lv
With which _Acontius_ got his louer trew,
Whom he had long time sought with fruitlesse suit:
Here eke that famous golden Apple grew,
The which emongst the gods false _Ate_ threw;
For which th’_Idæan_ Ladies disagreed,
Till partiall _Paris_ dempt it _Venus_ dew,
And had of her, faire _Helen_ for his meed,
That many noble _Greekes_ and _Troians_ made to bleed.
The warlike Elfe[689] much wondred at this tree, lvi
So faire and great, that shadowed all the ground,
And his broad braunches, laden with rich fee,
Did stretch themselues without the vtmost bound
Of this great gardin, compast with a mound,
Which ouer-hanging, they themselues did steepe,
In a blacke flood which flow’d about it round;
That is the riuer of _Cocytus_ deepe,
In which full many soules do endlesse waile and weepe.
Which to behold, he clomb vp to the banke, lvii
And looking downe, saw many damned wights,
In those sad waues, which direfull deadly stanke,
Plonged continually of cruell Sprights,
That with their pitteous cryes, and yelling shrights,
They made the further shore resounden wide:
Emongst the rest of those same ruefull sights,
One cursed creature[690] he by chaunce espide,
That drenched lay full deepe, vnder the Garden side.
Deepe was he drenched to the vpmost chin, lviii
Yet gaped still, as coueting to drinke
Of the cold liquor, which he waded in,
And stretching forth his hand, did often thinke
To reach the fruit, which grew vpon the brincke:
But both the fruit from hand, and floud from mouth
Did flie abacke, and made him vainely swinke:
The whiles he steru’d with hunger and with drouth
He daily dyde, yet neuer throughly dyen couth.
The knight him seeing labour so in vaine, lix
Askt who he was, and what he ment thereby:
Who groning deepe, thus answerd him againe;
Most cursed of all creatures vnder skye,
Lo _Tantalus_, I here tormented lye:
Of whom high _Ioue_ wont whylome feasted bee,
Lo here I now for want of food doe dye:
But if that thou be such, as I thee see,
Of grace I pray thee, giue to eat and drinke to mee.
Nay, nay, thou greedie _Tantalus_ (quoth he) lx
Abide the fortune of thy present fate,
And vnto all that liue in high degree,
Ensample be of mind intemperate[691],
To teach them how to vse their present state.
Then gan the cursed wretch aloud to cry,
Accusing highest _Ioue_ and gods ingrate,
And eke blaspheming heauen bitterly,
As authour of vniustice, there to let him dye.
He lookt a little further, and espyde lxi
Another wretch, whose carkasse deepe was drent
Within the riuer, which the same did hyde:
But both his hands most filthy feculent,
Aboue the water were on high extent,
And faynd to wash themselues incessantly;
Yet nothing cleaner were for such intent,
But rather fowler seemed to the eye;
So lost his labour vaine and idle industry.
The knight him calling, asked who he was, lxii
Who lifting vp his head, him answerd thus:
I _Pilate_ am the falsest Iudge, alas,
And most vniust, that by vnrighteous
And wicked doome, to Iewes despiteous
Deliuered vp the Lord of life to die,
And did acquite a murdrer felonous;
The whiles my hands I washt in puritie,
The whiles my soule was soyld with foule iniquitie.
Infinite moe, tormented in like paine lxiii
He there beheld, too long here to be told:
Ne _Mammon_ would there let him long remaine,
For terrour of the tortures manifold,
In which the damned soules he did behold,
But roughly him bespake. Thou fearefull foole,
Why takest not of that same fruit of gold,
Ne sittest downe on that same siluer stoole,
To rest thy wearie person, in the shadow coole.
All which he did, to doe him deadly fall lxiv
In frayle intemperance through sinfull bayt;
To which if he inclined had at all,
That dreadfull feend, which did behind him wayt,
Would him haue rent in thousand peeces strayt:
But he was warie wise in all his way,
And well perceiued his deceiptfull sleight,
Ne suffred lust his safetie to betray;
So goodly did beguile the Guyler of the pray[692].
And now he has so long remained there, lxv
That vitall powres gan wexe both weake and wan,
For want of food, and sleepe, which two vpbeare,
Like mightie pillours, this fraile life of man,
That none without the same enduren can.
For now three dayes of men were full outwrought,
Since he this hardie enterprize began:
For thy great _Mammon_ fairely he besought,
Into the world to guide him backe, as he him brought.
The God, though loth, yet was constraind t’obay, lxvi
For lenger time, then that, no liuing wight
Below the earth, might suffred be to stay:
So backe againe, him brought to liuing light.
But all so soone as his enfeebled spright
Gan sucke this vitall aire into his brest,
As ouercome with too exceeding might,
The life did flit away out of her nest,
And all his senses were with deadly fit opprest.
FOOTNOTES:
[651] Arg. 1 _Mamon_ _1590_, _1596_
[652] i 9 fly. _1590_, _1596_
[653] iii 9 spetting _1609_
[654] iv 4 yet] it _1596_, _1609_
[655] 8 vpside downe _1590_
[656] 9 And] A _1596_
[657] v 4 _Melcibers_ _1590_
[658] vii 3 heapes] hils _1590_
[659] x 1 besits] befits _1609_
[660] xii 7 Strife; _1596_
[661] 9 as] in _1590_
[662] xviii 2 that _om. 1596_
[663] xix 5 bloodguiltnesse _1590_: bloud guiltnesse _1596_
[664] xxi 5 infernall] internall _1590_
[665] xxiii 1 horror _1590_: horrour _1596_
[666] xxiv 7 ought] nought _1590_
[667] xxv 9 betwixt _1609_
[668] xxxi 1 spake _1609_
[669] 3 his] it _1609_
[670] xxxii 6 _Hammon_ _1590_: _corr. F. E._
[671] xxxiii 9 slaue _1609_
[672] xxxvi 4 yron] dying _1590_
[673] xxxvii 1 as] an _1590_
[674] 5 cam _1590_