[675] xxxix 8 mesprise] mespise _1596_, _1609_

[676] xl 5 if _om. 1596_

[677] that] the _1590 &c._: _corr. F. E._

[678] would _1596_

[679] 7 But] And _1590_

[680] golden] yron _1590_

[681] xli 3 his] to _1596_, _1609_

[682] 5 terrestiall _1609_

[683] xlviii 6 my deare my, _1596_

[684] 7 alone, _1590 &c._

[685] l 1 _Mammon_ _1590_, _1596_

[686] lii 6 Which with _1590_, _1596_: Which-with _1609_

[687] liii 1 _Gordin_ _1596_

[688] liv 8 th’] the _1590_, _1596_: _corr. F. E._

[689] lvi 1 Elfe, _1590_, _1596_

[690] lvii 8 creature, _1590_, _1596_

[691] lx 4 intemperate] more temperate _1590_

[692] lxiv 9 the pray] his pray _1590_

_Cant. VIII._

[Illustration:

_Sir Guyon laid in swowne is by

Acrates sonnes despoyld,

Whom Arthur soone hath reskewed

And Paynim brethren foyld._

]

And is there care in heauen? and is there loue i

In heauenly spirits to these creatures bace,

That may compassion of their euils moue?

There is: else much more wretched were the cace

Of men, then beasts. But O th’exceeding grace

Of highest God, that loues his creatures so,

And all his workes with mercy doth embrace,

That blessed Angels, he sends to and fro,

To serue to wicked man, to serue his wicked foe.

How oft do they, their siluer bowers leaue, ii

To come to succour vs, that succour want?

How oft do they with golden pineons, cleaue

The flitting skyes, like flying Pursuiuant,

Against foule feends to aide vs millitant?

They for vs fight, they watch and dewly ward,

And their bright Squadrons round about vs plant,

And all for loue, and nothing for reward:

O why should heauenly God to men haue such regard?

During the while, that _Guyon_ did abide iii

In _Mammons_[693] house, the Palmer, whom whyleare

That wanton Mayd of passage had denide,

By further search had passage found elsewhere,

And being on his way, approched neare,

Where _Guyon_ lay in traunce, when suddenly

He heard a voice, that called loud and cleare,

Come hither, come hither[694], O come hastily;

That all the fields resounded with the ruefull cry.

The Palmer lent his eare vnto the noyce, iv

To weet, who called so importunely:

Againe he heard a more efforced voyce,

That bad him come in haste. He by and by

His feeble feet directed to the cry;

Which to that shadie delue him brought at last,

Where _Mammon_ earst did sunne his threasury:

There the good _Guyon_ he found slumbring fast

In senselesse dreame; which sight at first him sore aghast.

Beside his head there sate a faire young man, v

Of wondrous beautie, and of freshest yeares,

Whose tender bud to blossome new began,

And flourish faire aboue his equall peares;

His snowy front curled with golden heares,

Like _Phœbus_ face adornd with sunny rayes,

Diuinely shone, and two sharpe winged sheares,

Decked with diuerse plumes, like painted Iayes,

Were fixed at his backe, to cut his ayerie wayes.

Like as _Cupido_ on _Idæan_ hill, vi

When hauing laid his cruell bow away,

And mortall arrowes, wherewith he doth fill

The world with murdrous spoiles and bloudie pray,

With his faire mother he him dights to play,

And with his goodly sisters, _Graces_ three;

The Goddesse pleased with his wanton play,

Suffers her selfe through sleepe beguild to bee,

The whiles the other Ladies mind their merry glee.

Whom when the Palmer saw, abasht he was vii

Through fear and wonder, that he nought could say,

Till him the child bespoke, Long lackt, alas,

Hath bene thy faithfull aide in hard assay,

Whiles deadly fit thy pupill doth dismay;

Behold this heauie sight, thou reuerend Sire,

But dread of death and dolour doe away;

For life ere long shall to her home retire,

And he that breathlesse seemes, shal corage bold respire.

The charge, which God doth vnto me arret, viii

Of his deare safetie, I to thee commend;

Yet will I not forgoe, ne yet forget

The care thereof my selfe vnto the end,

But euermore him succour, and defend

Against his foe and mine: watch thou I pray;

For euill is at hand him to offend.

So hauing said, eftsoones he gan display

His painted nimble wings, and vanisht quite away.

The Palmer seeing his left empty place, ix

And his slow eyes beguiled of their sight,

Woxe sore affraid, and standing still a space,

Gaz’d after him, as fowle escapt by flight;

At last him turning to his charge behight,

With trembling hand his troubled pulse gan try;

Where finding life not yet dislodged quight,

He much reioyst, and courd it tenderly,

As chicken newly hatcht, from dreaded destiny.

At last he spide, where towards him did pace x

Two Paynim knights, all armd as bright as skie,

And them beside an aged Sire did trace,

And farre before a light-foot Page did flie,

That breathed strife and troublous enmitie;

Those were the two sonnes of _Acrates_ old,

Who meeting earst with _Archimago_ slie,

Foreby that idle strond, of him were told,

That he, which earst them combatted, was _Guyon_ bold.

Which to auenge on him they dearely vowd, xi

Where euer that on ground they mote him fynd;

False _Archimage_ prouokt their courage prowd,

And stryfull[695] _Atin_ in their stubborne mynd

Coles of contention and whot vengeance tynd.

Now bene they come, whereas the Palmer sate,

Keeping that slombred corse to him assynd;

Well knew they both his person, sith of late

With him in bloudie armes they rashly did debate.

Whom when _Pyrochles_ saw, inflam’d with rage, xii

That sire he foule bespake, Thou dotard vile,

That with thy brutenesse shendst thy comely age,

Abandone soone, I read, the caitiue spoile

Of that same outcast carkasse, that erewhile

Made it selfe famous through false trechery,

And crownd his coward crest with knightly stile;

Loe where he now inglorious doth lye,

To proue he liued ill, that did thus foully dye.

To whom the Palmer fearelesse answered; xiii

Certes, Sir knight, ye bene too much to blame,

Thus for to blot the honour of the dead,

And with foule cowardize his carkasse shame,

Whose liuing hands immortalizd his name.

Vile is the vengeance on the ashes cold,

And enuie base, to barke at sleeping fame:

Was neuer wight, that treason of him told;

Your selfe his prowesse prou’d and found him fiers and bold.

Then said _Cymochles_; Palmer, thou doest dote, xiv

Ne canst of prowesse, ne of knighthood deeme,

Saue as thou seest or hearst. But well I wote,

That of his puissance tryall made extreeme;

Yet gold all is not, that doth golden seeme,

Ne all good knights, that shake well speare and shield:

The worth of all men by their end esteeme,

And then due praise, or due reproch them yield;

Bad therefore I him deeme, that thus lies dead on field.

Good or bad (gan his brother fierce reply) xv

What doe I recke, sith that he dyde entire?

Or what doth his bad death now satisfy

The greedy hunger of reuenging ire,

Sith wrathfull hand wrought not her owne desire?

Yet since no way is left to wreake my spight,

I will him reaue of armes, the victors hire,

And of that shield, more worthy of good knight;

For why should a dead dog be deckt in armour bright?

Faire Sir, said then the Palmer suppliaunt, xvi

For knighthoods loue, do not so foule a deed,

Ne blame your honour with so shamefull vaunt

Of vile reuenge. To spoile the dead of weed

Is sacrilege, and doth all sinnes exceed;

But leaue these relicks of his liuing might,

To decke his herce, and trap his tomb-blacke steed.

What herce or steed (said he) should he haue dight,

But be entombed in the rauen or the kight?

With that, rude hand vpon his shield he laid, xvii

And th’other brother gan his helme vnlace,

Both fiercely bent to haue him disaraid;

Till that they spide, where towards them did pace

An armed knight, of bold and bounteous grace,

Whose squire bore after him an heben launce,

And couerd shield. Well kend him so farre space

Th’enchaunter by his armes and amenaunce,

When vnder him he saw his Lybian steed to praunce.

And to those brethren said, Rise rise by liue, xviii

And vnto battell doe your selues addresse;

For yonder comes the prowest knight aliue,

Prince _Arthur_, flowre of grace and nobilesse,

That hath to Paynim knights wrought great distresse,

And thousand Sar’zins foully donne to dye.

That word so deepe did in their harts impresse,

That both eftsoones vpstarted furiously,

And gan themselues prepare to battell greedily.

But fierce _Pyrochles_, lacking his owne sword, xix

The want thereof now greatly gan to plaine,

And _Archimage_ besought, him that afford,

Which he had brought for _Braggadocchio_ vaine.

So would I (said th’enchaunter) glad and faine

Beteeme to you this[696] sword, you to defend,

Or ought that else your honour might maintaine,

But that this weapons powre I well haue kend,

To be contrarie to the worke, which ye intend.

For that same knights owne sword this is of yore, xx

Which _Merlin_ made by his almightie art

For that his noursling, when he knighthood swore,

Therewith to doen his foes eternall smart.

The metall first he mixt with _Medæwart_,

That no enchauntment from his dint might saue;

Then it in flames of _Aetna_ wrought apart,

And seuen times dipped in the bitter waue

Of hellish _Styx_, which hidden vertue to it gaue.

The vertue is, that neither steele, nor stone xxi

The stroke thereof from entrance may defend;

Ne euer may be vsed by his fone,

Ne forst his rightfull owner to offend,

Ne euer will it breake, ne euer bend.

Wherefore _Morddure_ it rightfully is hight.

In vaine therefore, _Pyrochles_, should I lend

The same to thee, against his lord to fight,

For sure it would deceiue thy labour, and thy might.

Foolish old man, said then the Pagan wroth, xxii

That weenest words or charmes may force withstond:

Soone shalt thou see, and then beleeue for troth,

That I can carue with this inchaunted brond

His Lords owne flesh. Therewith out of his hond

That vertuous steele he rudely snatcht away,

And _Guyons_ shield about his wrest[697] he bond;

So readie dight, fierce battaile to assay,

And match his brother proud in battailous array.

By this that straunger knight in presence came, xxiii

And goodly salued them; who nought againe

Him answered, as courtesie became,

But with sterne lookes, and stomachous disdaine,

Gaue signes of grudge and discontentment vaine:

Then turning to the Palmer, he gan spy

Where at his feete, with sorrowfull demaine

And deadly hew, an armed corse did lye,

In whose dead face he red great magnanimity.

Said he then to the Palmer, Reuerend syre, xxiv

What great misfortune hath betidd this knight?

Or did his life her fatall date expyre,

Or did he fall by treason, or by fight?

How euer, sure I rew his pitteous plight.

Not one, nor other, (said the Palmer graue)

Hath him befalne, but cloudes of deadly night

A while his heauie eylids couer’d haue,

And all his senses drowned in deepe senselesse waue.

Which, those his cruell[698] foes, that stand hereby, xxv

Making aduantage, to reuenge their spight,

Would him disarme, and treaten shamefully,

Vnworthy vsage of redoubted knight.

But you, faire Sir, whose honorable sight

Doth promise hope of helpe, and timely grace,

Mote I beseech to succour his sad plight,

And by your powre protect his feeble cace.

First praise of knighthood is, foule outrage to deface.

Palmer, (said he) no knight so rude, I weene, xxvi

As to doen outrage to a sleeping ghost:

Ne was there euer noble courage seene,

That in aduauntage would his puissance bost:

Honour is least, where oddes appeareth most.

May be, that better reason will asswage[699]

The rash reuengers heat. Words well dispost

Haue secret powre, t’appease inflamed rage:

If not, leaue vnto me thy knights last patronage[700].

Tho turning to those brethren, thus bespoke, xxvii

Ye warlike payre, whose valorous great might

It seemes, iust wrongs to vengeance doe[701] prouoke,

To wreake your wrath on this dead seeming knight,

Mote ought allay the storme of your despight,

And settle patience in so furious heat?

Not to debate the chalenge of your right,

But for this carkasse pardon I entreat,

Whom fortune hath alreadie laid in lowest seat.

To whom _Cymochles_ said; For what art thou, xxviii

That mak’st thy selfe his dayes-man, to prolong

The vengeance prest? Or who shall let me now,

On this vile bodie from to wreake my wrong,

And make his carkasse as the outcast dong?

Why should not that dead carrion satisfie

The guilt, which if he liued had thus long,

His life for due reuenge should deare abie?

The trespasse still doth liue, albe the person die.

Indeed (then said the Prince) the euill donne xxix

Dyes not, when breath the bodie first doth leaue,

But from the grandsyre to the Nephewes sonne,

And all his seed the curse doth often cleaue,

Till vengeance vtterly the guilt bereaue:

So streightly God doth iudge. But gentle knight,

That doth against the dead his hand vpreare[702],

His honour staines with rancour and despight,

And great disparagment makes to his former might.

_Pyrochles_ gan reply the second time, xxx

And to him said, Now felon sure I read,

How that thou art partaker of his crime:

Therefore by _Termagaunt_ thou shalt be dead.

With that his hand, more sad then lomp of lead,

Vplifting high, he weened with _Morddure_,

His owne good sword _Morddure_, to cleaue his head.

The faithfull steele such treason no’uld endure,

But swaruing from the marke, his Lords life did assure.

Yet was the force so furious and so fell, xxxi

That horse and man it made to reele aside;

Nath’lesse the Prince would not forsake his sell:

For well of yore he learned had to ride,

But full of anger fiercely to him cride;

False traitour miscreant, thou broken hast

The law of armes, to strike foe vndefide.

But thou thy treasons fruit, I hope, shalt taste

Right sowre, and feele the law, the which thou hast defast.

With that his balefull speare[703] he fiercely bent xxxii

Against the Pagans[704] brest, and therewith thought

His cursed life out of her lodge haue rent:

But ere the point arriued, where it ought,

That seuen-fold shield, which he from _Guyon_ brought

He cast betwene to ward the bitter stound:

Through all those foldes the steelehead passage wrought

And through his shoulder pierst; wherwith to ground

He groueling fell, all gored in his gushing wound.

Which when his brother saw, fraught with great griefe xxxiii

And wrath, he to him leaped furiously,

And fowly said, By _Mahoune_, cursed thiefe,

That direfull stroke thou dearely shalt aby.

Then hurling vp his harmefull blade on hye,

Smote him so hugely on his haughtie crest,

That from his saddle forced him to fly:

Else mote it needes downe to his manly brest

Haue cleft his head in twaine, and life thence dispossest.

Now was the Prince in daungerous distresse, xxxiv

Wanting his sword, when he on foot should fight:

His single speare could doe him small redresse,

Against two foes of so exceeding might,

The least of which was match for any knight.

And now the other, whom he earst did daunt,

Had reard himselfe againe to cruell fight,

Three times more furious, and more puissaunt,

Vnmindfull of his wound, of his fate ignoraunt.

So both attonce him charge on either side, xxxv

With hideous strokes, and importable powre,

That forced him his ground to trauerse wide,

And wisely watch to ward that deadly stowre:

For in[705] his shield, as thicke as stormie showre,

Their strokes did raine, yet did he neuer quaile,

Ne backward shrinke, but as a stedfast towre,

Whom foe with double[706] battry doth assaile,

Them on her bulwarke beares, and bids them nought auaile.

So stoutly he withstood their strong assay, xxxvi

Till that at last, when he aduantage spyde,

His poinant speare he thrust with puissant sway

At proud _Cymochles_, whiles his shield was wyde,

That through his thigh the mortall steele did gryde:

He swaruing with the force, within his flesh

Did breake the launce, and let the head abyde:

Out of the wound the red bloud flowed fresh,

That vnderneath his feet soone made a purple plesh.

Horribly then he gan to rage, and rayle, xxxvii

Cursing his Gods, and himselfe damning deepe:

Als when his brother saw the red bloud rayle[707]

Adowne so fast, and all his armour steepe,

For very felnesse lowd he gan to weepe,

And said, Caytiue, cursse on thy cruell hond,

That twise hath sped; yet shall it not thee keepe

From the third brunt of this my fatall brond:

Loe where the dreadfull Death behind thy backe doth stond.

With that he strooke, and th’other strooke withall, xxxviii

That nothing seem’d mote beare so monstrous might:

The one vpon his couered shield did fall,

And glauncing downe would not his owner byte:

But th’other did vpon his troncheon smyte,

Which hewing quite a sunder, further way

It made, and on his hacqueton did lyte,

The which diuiding with importune sway,

It seizd in his right side, and there the dint did stay.

Wyde was the wound, and a large lukewarme flood, xxxix

Red as the Rose, thence gushed grieuously;

That when the Paynim spyde the streaming blood,

Gaue him great hart, and hope of victory.

On th’other side, in huge perplexity,

The Prince now stood, hauing his weapon broke;

Nought could he hurt, but still at ward did ly:

Yet with his troncheon he so rudely stroke

_Cymochles_ twise, that twise him forst his foot reuoke.

Whom when the Palmer saw in such distresse, xl

Sir _Guyons_ sword he lightly to him raught,

And said; Faire[708] Son, great God thy right hand blesse,

To vse that sword so wisely as[709] it ought.

Glad was the knight, and with fresh courage fraught,

When as againe he armed felt his hond;

Then like a Lion, which hath long time saught

His robbed whelpes, and at the last them fond

Emongst the shepheard swaynes, then wexeth wood and yond.

So fierce he laid about him, and dealt blowes xli

On either side, that neither mayle could hold,

Ne shield defend the thunder of his throwes:

Now to _Pyrochles_ many strokes he told;

Eft to _Cymochles_ twise so many fold:

Then backe againe turning his busie hond,

Them both attonce compeld with courage bold,

To yield wide way to his hart-thrilling brond;

And though they both stood stiffe, yet could not both withstond.

As saluage Bull, whom two fierce mastiues bayt, xlii

When rancour doth with rage him once engore,

Forgets with warie ward them to awayt,

But with his dreadfull hornes them driues afore,

Or flings aloft, or treads downe in the flore,

Breathing out wrath, and bellowing disdaine,

That all the forrest quakes to heare him rore:

So rag’d Prince _Arthur_ twixt his foemen twaine,

That neither could his mightie puissance sustaine.

But euer at _Pyrochles_ when he smit, xliii

Who _Guyons_ shield cast euer him before,

Whereon the Faery Queenes pourtract was writ,

His hand relented, and the stroke forbore,

And his deare hart the picture gan adore,

Which oft the Paynim sau’d from deadly stowre.

But him henceforth the same can saue no more;

For now arriued is his fatall howre,

That no’te auoyded be by earthly skill or powre.

For when _Cymochles_ saw the fowle reproch, xliv

Which them appeached, prickt with guilty[710] shame,

And inward griefe, he fiercely gan approch,

Resolu’d to put away that loathly blame,

Or dye with honour and desert of fame;

And on the hauberk stroke the Prince so sore,

That quite disparted all the linked frame,

And pierced to the skin, but bit no more[711],

Yet made him twise to reele, that neuer moou’d afore.

Whereat renfierst with wrath and sharpe regret, xlv

He stroke so hugely with his borrowd blade,

That it empierst[712] the Pagans burganet,

And cleauing the hard steele, did deepe inuade

Into his head, and cruell passage made

Quite through his braine. He tombling downe on ground,

Breathd out his ghost, which to th’infernall shade

Fast flying, there eternall torment found,

For all the sinnes, wherewith his lewd life did abound.

Which when his german saw, the stony feare[713] xlvi

Ran to his hart, and all his sence dismayd,

Ne thenceforth life ne courage did appeare,

But as a man, whom hellish feends haue frayd,

Long trembling still he stood: at last thus sayd;

Traytour what hast thou doen? how euer may

Thy cursed hand so cruelly haue swayd

Against that knight: Harrow[714] and well away,[715]

After so wicked deed why liu’st thou lenger day?

With that all desperate as loathing light, xlvii

And with reuenge desiring soone to dye,

Assembling all his force and vtmost might,

With his owne sword[716] he fierce at him did flye,

And strooke, and foynd, and lasht outrageously,

Withouten reason or regard. Well knew

The Prince, with patience and sufferaunce sly

So hasty heat soone cooled to subdew:

Tho when this breathlesse woxe, that batteil gan renew.

As when a windy tempest bloweth hye, xlviii

That nothing may withstand his stormy stowre,

The cloudes, as things affrayd, before him flye;

But all so soone as his outrageous powre

Is layd, they fiercely then begin to shoure,

And as in scorne of his spent stormy spight,

Now all attonce their malice forth do poure;

So did Prince _Arthur_[717] beare himselfe in fight,

And suffred rash _Pyrochles_ wast his idle might.

At last when as the Sarazin perceiu’d, xlix

How that straunge sword refusd, to serue his need,

But when he stroke most strong, the dint deceiu’d,

He flong it from him, and deuoyd of dreed,

Vpon him lightly leaping without heed,

Twixt his two mighty armes engrasped fast,

Thinking to ouerthrow and downe him tred:

But him in strength and skill the Prince surpast,

And through his nimble sleight did vnder him down cast.

Nought booted it the Paynim then to striue; l

For as a Bittur in the Eagles claw,

That may not hope by flight to scape aliue,

Still waites for death with dread and trembling aw;

So he now subiect to the victours law,

Did not once moue, nor vpward cast his eye,

For vile disdaine and rancour, which did gnaw

His hart in twaine with sad melancholy,

As one that loathed life, and yet despisd to dye.

But full of Princely bounty and great mind, li

The Conquerour nought cared him to slay,

But casting wrongs and all reuenge behind,

More glory thought to giue life, then decay,

And said, Paynim, this is thy dismall day;

Yet if thou wilt renounce thy miscreaunce,

And my trew liegeman yield thy selfe for ay,

Life will I graunt thee for thy valiaunce,

And all thy wrongs will wipe out of my souenaunce.

Foole (said the Pagan) I thy gift defye, lii

But vse thy fortune, as it doth befall,

And say, that I not ouercome do dye,

But in despight of life, for death do call.

Wroth was the Prince, and sory yet withall,

That he so wilfully refused grace;

Yet sith his fate so cruelly did fall,

His shining Helmet he gan soone vnlace,

And left his headlesse body bleeding all the place.

By this Sir _Guyon_ from his traunce awakt, liii

Life hauing maistered her sencelesse foe;

And looking vp, when as his shield he lakt,

And sword saw not, he wexed wondrous woe:

But when the Palmer, whom he long ygoe

Had[718] lost, he by him spide, right glad he grew,

And said, Deare sir, whom wandring to and fro

I long haue lackt, I ioy thy face to vew;

Firme is thy faith, whom daunger neuer fro me drew.

But read what wicked hand hath robbed mee liv

Of my good sword and shield? The Palmer glad,

With so fresh hew vprising him to see,

Him answered; Faire[719] sonne, be no whit sad

For want of weapons, they shall soone be had.

So gan he to discourse the whole debate,

Which that straunge knight for him sustained had,

And those two Sarazins confounded late,

Whose carcases on ground were horribly prostrate.

Which when he heard, and saw the tokens trew, lv

His hart with great affection was embayd,

And to the Prince bowing with[720] reuerence dew,

As to the Patrone of his life, thus sayd;

My Lord, my liege, by whose most gratious ayd

I liue this day, and see my foes subdewd,

What may suffise, to be for meede repayd

Of so great graces, as ye haue me shewd,

But to be euer bound

To whom the Infant thus, Faire Sir, what need lvi

Good turnes be counted, as a seruile bond,

To bind their doers, to receiue their meede?

Are not all knights by oath bound, to withstond

Oppressours powre by armes and puissant hond?

Suffise, that I haue done my dew in place.

So goodly purpose they together fond,

Of kindnesse and of curteous aggrace;

The whiles false _Archimage_ and _Atin_ fled apace.

FOOTNOTES:

[693] iii 2 _Mamons_ _1590_, _1596_

[694] 8 Come hither, hither _1609_

[695] xi 4 strife-full _1609_

[696] xix 6 this] his _1609_

[697] xxii 7 wrist _1609_

[698] xxv 1 his cruell] same _1590_, _1596_: _corr. F. E._: Which those

same foes that doen awaite hereby _1609_

[699] xxvi 6 asswage, _1590_, _1596_

[700] 9 patonage _1596_

[701] xxvii 3 doe] doth _1609_

[702] xxix 7 vpreare] vpheaue _MS. corr. in Malone 615. But cf._ II iii

28, l. 7 _and note there_.

[703] xxxii 1 speare, _1590_, _1596_

[704] 2 Pagons _1590_: _corr. F. E._

[705] xxxv 5 in] on _1609_

[706] 8 doubly _1590_: _corr. F. E._

[707] xxxvii 3 rayle] traile _1609_

[708] xl 3 fayre _1590_: faire _1596_

[709] 4 so wisely as] so well, as he _1590_

[710] xliv 2 guiltie _1590_: gulty _1596_

[711] 8 no more] not thore _1590_

[712] xlv 3 empiest _1590_: _corr. F. E._

[713] xlvi 1 feare, _1590_, _1596_

[714] 8 Horrow _1590_, _1596_; _corr. F. E._

[715] weal-away! _1609_

[716] xlvii 4 swerd _1590_

[717] xlviii 8 Prince _Arthur_] Sir _Guyon_ _1590_, _1596_: _corr. 1609_

[718] liii 6 Had] Hast _1596_

[719] liv 4 fayre _1590_: faire _1596_

[720] lv 3 with bowing _1590 &c._: bowing _F. E._

_Cant. IX._

[Illustration:

_The house of Temperance, in which

doth sober Alma dwell,

Besiegd of many foes, whom straunger

knightes to flight[721] compell._

]

Of all Gods workes, which do this world adorne, i

There is no one more faire and excellent,

Then is mans body both for powre and forme,

Whiles it is kept in sober gouernment;

But none then it, more fowle and indecent[722],

Distempred through misrule and passions bace:

It growes a Monster, and incontinent

Doth loose his dignitie and natiue grace.

Behold, who list, both one and other in this place.

After the Paynim brethren conquer’d were, ii

The _Briton_ Prince recou’ring his stolne sword,

And _Guyon_ his lost shield, they both yfere

Forth passed on their way in faire accord,

Till him the Prince with gentle court did bord;

Sir knight, mote I of you this curt’sie read,

To weet why on your shield so goodly scord

Beare ye the picture of that Ladies head?

Full liuely is the semblaunt, though the substance dead.

Faire Sir (said he) if in that picture dead iii

Such life ye read, and vertue in vaine shew,

What mote ye weene, if the trew liuely-head

Of that most glorious visage ye did vew?

But if the beautie of her mind ye knew,

That is her bountie, and imperiall powre,

Thousand times fairer then her mortall hew,

O how great wonder would your thoughts deuoure,

And infinite desire into your spirite poure!

She is the mighty Queene of _Faerie_, iv

Whose faire retrait I in my shield do beare;

She is the flowre of grace and chastitie,

Throughout the world renowmed far and neare,

My liefe, my liege, my Soueraigne, my deare,

Whose glory shineth as the morning starre,

And with her light the earth enlumines cleare;

Far reach her mercies, and her prayses farre,

As well in state of peace, as puissaunce in warre.

Thrise happy man, (said then the _Briton_ knight) v

Whom gracious lot, and thy great valiaunce

Haue made thee[723] souldier of that Princesse bright,

Which with her bounty and glad countenance

Doth blesse her seruaunts, and them high aduaunce.

How may straunge knight hope euer to aspire,

By faithfull seruice, and meet amenance,

Vnto such blisse? sufficient were that hire

For losse of thousand liues, to dye at her desire.

Said _Guyon_, Noble Lord, what meed so great, vi

Or grace of earthly Prince so soueraine,

But by your wondrous worth and warlike feat

Ye well may hope, and easely attaine?

But were your will, her sold to entertaine,

And numbred be mongst knights of _Maydenhed_,

Great guerdon, well I wote, should you remaine,

And in her fauour high be reckoned,

As _Arthegall_,[724] and _Sophy_ now beene honored.

Certes (then said the Prince) I God auow, vii

That sith I armes and knighthood first did plight,

My whole desire hath beene, and yet is now,

To serue that Queene with all my powre and might.

Now hath[725] the Sunne with his lamp-burning light,

Walkt round[726] about the world, and I no lesse,

Sith[727] of that Goddesse I haue sought the sight,

Yet no where can her find: such happinesse

Heauen doth to me enuy, and fortune fauourlesse.

Fortune, the foe of famous cheuisaunce viii

Seldome (said _Guyon_) yields to vertue aide,

But in her way throwes mischiefe and mischaunce,

Whereby her course is stopt, and passage staid.

But you,[728] faire Sir, be not herewith dismaid,

But constant keepe the way, in which ye stand;

Which were it not, that I am else delaid

With hard aduenture, which I haue in hand,

I labour would to guide you through all Faery land.

Gramercy Sir (said he) but mote I weete,[729] ix

What straunge aduenture do ye now pursew?

Perhaps my succour, or aduizement meete

Mote stead you much your purpose to subdew.

Then gan Sir _Guyon_ all the story shew

Of false _Acrasia_, and her wicked wiles,

Which to auenge, the Palmer him forth drew

From Faery court. So talked they, the whiles

They wasted had much way, and measurd many miles.

And now faire _Phœbus_ gan decline in hast x

His weary wagon to the Westerne vale,

Whenas they spide a goodly castle, plast

Foreby a riuer in a pleasaunt dale,

Which choosing for that euenings hospitale,

They thither marcht: but when they came in sight,

And from their sweaty Coursers did auale,

They found the gates fast barred long ere night,

And euery loup fast lockt, as fearing foes despight.

Which when they saw, they weened fowle reproch xi

Was to them doen, their entrance to forstall,

Till that the Squire gan nigher to approch;

And wind his horne vnder the castle wall,

That with the noise it shooke, as it would fall:

Eftsoones forth looked from the highest spire

The watch, and lowd vnto the knights did call,

To weete, what they so rudely did require.

Who gently answered, They entrance did desire.

Fly fly, good knights, (said he) fly fast away xii

If that your liues ye loue, as meete ye should;

Fly fast, and saue your selues from neare decay,

Here may ye not haue entraunce, though we would:

We would and would againe, if that we could;

But thousand enemies about vs raue,

And with long siege vs in this castle hould:

Seuen yeares this wize they vs besieged haue,

And many good knights slaine, that haue vs sought to saue.

Thus as he spoke[730], loe with outragious cry xiii

A thousand villeins round about them swarmd

Out of the rockes and caues adioyning nye,

Vile caytiue wretches, ragged, rude, deformd,

All threatning death, all in straunge manner armd,

Some with vnweldy clubs, some with long speares,

Some rusty kniues, some staues in fire warmd.

Sterne was their looke, like wild amazed steares,

Staring with hollow eyes, and stiffe vpstanding heares.

Fiersly at first those knights they did assaile, xiv

And droue them to recoile: but when againe

They gaue fresh charge, their forces gan to faile,

Vnhable their encounter to sustaine;

For with such puissaunce and impetuous maine

Those Champions broke on them, that forst them fly,

Like scattered Sheepe, whenas the Shepheards swaine

A Lyon and a Tigre doth espye,

With greedy pace forth rushing from the forest nye.

A while they fled, but soone returnd againe xv

With greater fury, then before was found;

And euermore their cruell Capitaine[731]

Sought with his raskall routs t’enclose them round,

And ouerrun to tread them to the ground.

But soone the knights with their bright-burning blades

Broke their rude troupes, and orders did confound,

Hewing and slashing at their idle shades;

For though they bodies seeme, yet substance from them fades.

As when a swarme of Gnats at euentide xvi

Out of the fennes of Allan do arise,

Their murmuring small trompets sounden wide,

Whiles in the aire their clustring army flies,

That as a cloud doth seeme to dim the skies;

Ne man nor beast may rest, or take repast,

For their sharpe wounds, and noyous iniuries,

Till the fierce Northerne wind with[732] blustring blast

Doth blow them quite away, and in the _Ocean_ cast.

Thus when they had that troublous rout disperst, xvii

Vnto the castle gate they come againe,

And entraunce crau’d, which was denied erst.

Now when report of that their perilous[733] paine,

And combrous conflict[734], which they did sustaine,

Came to the Ladies eare, which there did dwell,

She forth issewed with a goodly traine

Of Squires and Ladies equipaged well,

And entertained them right fairely, as befell.

_Alma_ she called was, a virgin bright; xviii

That had not yet felt _Cupides_ wanton rage,

Yet was she woo’d of many a gentle knight,

And many a Lord of noble parentage,

That sought with her to lincke in marriage:

For she was faire, as faire mote euer bee,

And in the flowre now of her freshest age;

Yet full of grace and goodly modestee,

That euen heauen reioyced her sweete face to see.

In robe of lilly white she was arayd, xix

That from her shoulder to her heele downe raught,

The traine whereof loose far behind her strayd,

Braunched with gold and pearle, most richly wrought,

And borne of two faire Damsels, which were taught

That seruice well. Her yellow golden heare

Was trimly wouen, and in tresses wrought,

Ne other tyre she on her head did weare,

But crowned[735] with a garland of sweete Rosiere.

Goodly she entertaind those noble knights, xx

And brought them vp into her castle hall;

Where gentle court and gracious delight

She to them made, with mildnesse virginall,

Shewing her selfe both wise and liberall:

There[736] when they rested had a season dew,

They her besought of fauour speciall,

Of that faire Castle to affoord them vew;

She graunted, and them leading forth, the same did shew.

First she them[737] led vp to the Castle wall, xxi

That was so high, as foe might not it clime,

And all so faire, and fensible[738] withall,

Not built of bricke, ne yet of stone and lime,

But of thing like to that _Ægyptian_ slime,

Whereof king _Nine_ whilome built _Babell_ towre;

But O great pitty, that no lenger time[739]

So goodly workemanship should not endure:

Soone it must turne to earth; no earthly thing is sure.

The frame thereof seemd partly circulare, xxii

And part triangulare, O worke diuine;

Those two the first and last proportions are,

The one imperfect, mortall, fœminine;

Th’other immortall, perfect, masculine,

And twixt them both a quadrate was the base,

Proportioned equally by seuen and nine;

Nine was the circle set in heauens place,

All which compacted made a goodly diapase[740].

Therein two gates were placed seemly well: xxiii

The one before, by which all in did pas,

Did th’other far in workmanship excell;

For not of wood, nor of enduring bras,

But of more worthy substance fram’d it was;

Doubly disparted, it did locke and close,

That when it locked, none might thorough pas,

And when it opened, no man might it close,

Still open to their friends, and closed to their foes.

Of hewen stone the porch was fairely wrought, xxiv

Stone more of valew, and more smooth and fine,

Then Iet or Marble far from Ireland brought;

Ouer the which was cast a wandring vine,

Enchaced with a wanton yuie twine.

And ouer it a faire Portcullis hong,

Which to the gate directly did incline,

With comely compasse, and compacture strong,

Neither vnseemely short, nor yet exceeding long.

Within the Barbican a Porter sate, xxv

Day and night duely keeping watch and ward,

Nor wight, nor word mote passe out of the gate,

But in good order, and with dew regard;

Vtterers of secrets he from thence debard,

Bablers of folly, and blazers of crime.

His larumbell might lowd and wide be hard,

When cause requird, but neuer out of time;

Early and late it rong, at euening and at prime.

And round about the porch on euery side xxvi

Twise sixteen warders sat, all armed bright

In glistring steele, and strongly fortifide:

Tall yeomen seemed they, and of great might,

And were enraunged ready, still for fight.

By them as _Alma_ passed with her guestes,

They did obeysaunce, as beseemed right,

And then againe returned to their restes:

The Porter eke to her did lout with humble gestes.

Thence she them brought into a stately Hall, xxvii

Wherein were many tables faire dispred,

And ready dight with drapets festiuall,

Against the viaundes should be ministred.

At th’upper end there sate, yclad in red

Downe to the ground, a comely personage,

That in his hand a white rod menaged,

He Steward was hight _Diet_; rype of age,

And in demeanure sober, and in counsell sage.

And through the Hall there walked to and fro xxviii

A iolly yeoman, Marshall of the same,

Whose name was _Appetite_; he did bestow

Both guestes and meate, when euer in they came,

And knew them how to order without blame,

As him the Steward bad. They both attone

Did dewty to their Lady, as became;

Who passing by, forth led her guestes anone

Into the kitchin rowme, ne spard for nicenesse none.

It was a vaut ybuilt for great dispence, xxix

With many raunges reard along the wall;

And one great chimney, whose long tonnell thence[741]

The smoke forth threw. And in the midst of all

There placed was a caudron wide and tall,

Vpon a mighty furnace, burning whot,

More whot, then _Aetn’_, or flaming _Mongiball_:

For day and night it brent, ne ceased not,

So long as any thing it in the caudron got.

But to delay the heat, least by mischaunce xxx

It might breake out, and set the whole on fire,

There added was by goodly ordinaunce,

An huge great paire of bellowes, which did styre

Continually, and cooling breath inspyre.

About the Caudron many Cookes accoyld,

With hookes and ladles, as need did require;

The whiles the viandes in the vessell boyld

They did about their businesse sweat, and sorely toyld.

The maister Cooke was cald _Concoction_, xxxi

A carefull man, and full of comely guise:

The kitchin Clerke, that hight _Digestion_,

Did order all th’Achates[742] in seemely wise,

And set them forth, as well he could deuise.

The rest had seuerall offices assind,

Some to remoue the scum, as it did rise;

Others to beare the same away did mind;

And others it to vse according to his kind.

But all the liquour, which was fowle and wast, xxxii

Not good nor seruiceable else for ought,

They in another great round vessell plast,

Till by a conduit pipe it thence were brought:

And all the rest, that noyous was, and nought,

By secret wayes, that none might it espy,

Was close conuaid, and to the back-gate brought,

That cleped was _Port Esquiline_, whereby

It was auoided quite, and throwne out priuily.

Which goodly order, and great workmans skill xxxiii

Whenas those knights beheld, with rare delight,

And gazing wonder they their minds did fill;

For neuer had they seene so straunge a sight.

Thence backe againe faire _Alma_ led them right,

And soone into a goodly Parlour brought,

That was with royall arras richly dight,

In which was nothing pourtrahed, nor wrought,

Not wrought, nor pourtrahed, but easie to be thought.

And in the midst thereof vpon the floure, xxxiv

A louely beuy of faire Ladies sate,

Courted of many a iolly Paramoure,

The which them did in modest wise amate,

And eachone sought his Lady to aggrate:

And eke emongst them litle _Cupid_ playd

His wanton sports, being returned late

From his fierce warres, and hauing from him layd

His cruell bow, wherewith he thousands hath dismayd.

Diuerse delights they found them selues to please; xxxv

Some song in sweet consort, some laught for ioy,

Some plaid with strawes, some idly sat at ease;

But other some could not abide to toy,

All pleasaunce was to them griefe and annoy:

This fround, that faund, the third for shame did blush,

Another seemed enuious, or coy,

Another in her teeth did gnaw a rush:

But at these straungers presence euery one did hush.

Soone as the gracious _Alma_ came in place, xxxvi

They all attonce out of their seates arose,

And to her homage made, with humble grace:

Whom when the knights beheld, they gan dispose

Themselues to court, and each a Damsell chose:

The Prince by chaunce did on a Lady light,

That was right faire and fresh as morning rose,

But somwhat sad, and solemne eke in sight,

As if some pensiue thought constraind her gentle spright.

In a long purple pall, whose skirt with gold[743] xxxvii

Was fretted all about, she was arayd;

And in her hand a Poplar braunch did hold:

To whom the Prince in curteous manner said;

Gentle Madame, why beene ye thus dismaid,

And your faire beautie do with sadnesse spill?

Liues any, that you hath thus ill apaid?

Or doen you loue,[744] or doen you lacke your will?

What euer be the cause, it sure beseemes you ill.

Faire Sir, (said she halfe in disdainefull wise,) xxxviii

How is it, that this mood[745] in me ye blame,

And in your selfe do not the same aduise?

Him ill beseemes, anothers fault to name,

That may vnwares be blotted with the same:

Pensiue I yeeld I am, and sad in mind,

Through great desire of glory and of fame;

Ne ought I weene are ye therein behind,

That haue twelue moneths[746] sought one, yet no where can her find.

The Prince was inly moued at her speach, xxxix

Well weeting trew, what she had rashly told;

Yet with faire semblaunt[747] sought to hide the breach,

Which chaunge of colour did perforce vnfold,

Now seeming flaming whot, now stony cold.

Tho turning soft aside, he did inquire,

What wight she was, that Poplar braunch did hold:

It answered was, her name was _Prays-desire_,

That by well doing sought to honour to aspire.

The whiles, the _Faerie_ knight did entertaine xl

Another Damsell of that gentle crew,

That was right faire, and modest of demaine,

But that too oft she chaung’d her natiue hew:

Straunge was her tyre, and all her garment blew,

Close round about her tuckt with many a plight:

Vpon her fist the bird, which shonneth vew,

And keepes in couerts close from liuing wight,

Did sit, as yet ashamd, how rude _Pan_ did her dight.

So long as _Guyon_ with her commoned[748], xli

Vnto the ground she cast her modest eye,

And euer and anone with rosie red

The bashfull bloud her snowy cheekes did dye,

That her became, as polisht yuory,

Which cunning Craftesmans[749] hand hath ouerlayd

With faire vermilion or pure Castory[750].

Great wonder had the knight, to see the mayd

So straungely passioned, and to her gently sayd,

Faire Damzell, seemeth, by your troubled cheare[751], xlii

That either me too bold ye weene, this wise

You to molest, or other ill to feare

That in the secret of your hart close lyes,

From whence it doth, as cloud from sea arise.

If it be I, of pardon I you pray;

But if ought else that I mote not deuise,

I will, if please you it discure, assay,

To ease you of that ill, so wisely as I may.

She answerd nought, but more abasht for shame, xliii

Held downe her head, the whiles her louely face

The flashing bloud with blushing did inflame,

And the strong passion mard her modest grace,

That _Guyon_ meruayld at her vncouth cace:

Till _Alma_ him bespake, Why[752] wonder yee

Faire Sir at that, which ye so much embrace?

She is the fountaine of your modestee;

You shamefast[753] are, but _Shamefastnesse_ it selfe is shee.

Thereat the Elfe did blush in priuitee, xliv

And turnd his face away; but she the same

Dissembled faire, and faynd to ouersee.

Thus they awhile with court and goodly game,

Themselues did solace each one with his Dame,

Till that great Ladie thence away them sought,

To vew her castles other wondrous frame.

Vp to a stately Turret she them brought,

Ascending by ten steps of Alablaster wrought.

That Turrets frame most admirable was, xlv

Like highest heauen compassed around,

And lifted high aboue this earthly masse,

Which it suruew’d, as hils doen lower ground;

But not on ground mote like to this be found,

Not that, which antique _Cadmus_ whylome built

In _Thebes_, which _Alexander_ did confound;

Nor that proud towre of _Troy_, though richly guilt,

From which young _Hectors_ bloud by cruell _Greekes_ was spilt.

The roofe hereof was arched ouer head, xlvi

And deckt with flowers and herbars daintily;

Two goodly Beacons, set in watches stead,

Therein gaue light, and flam’d continually:

For they of liuing fire most subtilly

Were made, and set in siluer sockets bright,

Couer’d with lids deuiz’d of substance sly,

That readily they shut and open might.

O who can tell the prayses of that makers might!

Ne can I tell, ne can I stay to tell xlvii

This parts great workmanship, and wondrous powre,

That all this other worlds worke doth excell,

And likest is vnto that heauenly towre,

That God hath built for his owne blessed bowre.

Therein were diuerse roomes, and diuerse stages,

But three the chiefest, and of greatest powre,

In which there dwelt three honorable sages,

The wisest men, I weene, that liued in their ages.

Not he, whom _Greece_, the Nourse of all good arts, xlviii

By _Phœbus_ doome, the wisest thought aliue,

Might be compar’d to these[754] by many parts:

Nor that sage _Pylian_ syre, which did suruiue

Three ages, such as mortall men contriue,

By whose aduise old _Priams_ cittie fell,

With these in praise of pollicies mote striue.

These three in these three roomes did sundry dwell,

And counselled faire _Alma_, how to gouerne well.

The first of them could things to come foresee: xlix

The next could of things present best aduize;

The third things past could keepe in memoree,

So that no time, nor reason[755] could arize,

But that the same could one of these comprize.

For thy the first did in the forepart sit,

That nought mote hinder his quicke preiudize:

He had a sharpe foresight, and working wit,

That neuer idle was, ne once could[756] rest a whit.

His chamber was dispainted all within, l

With sundry colours, in the which were writ

Infinite shapes of things dispersed thin;

Some such as in the world were neuer yit,

Ne can deuized be of mortall wit;

Some daily seene, and knowen by their names,

Such as in idle fantasies doe flit:

Infernall Hags, _Centaurs_, feendes, _Hippodames_,

Apes, Lions, Ægles, Owles, fooles, louers, children, Dames.

And all the chamber filled was with flyes, li

Which buzzed all about, and made such sound,

That they encombred all mens eares and eyes,

Like many swarmes of Bees assembled round,

After their hiues with honny do abound:

All those were idle thoughts and fantasies,

Deuices, dreames, opinions vnsound,

Shewes, visions, sooth-sayes, and prophesies;

And all that fained is, as leasings, tales, and lies.

Emongst them all sate he, which wonned there, lii

That hight _Phantastes_ by his nature trew;

A man of yeares yet fresh, as mote appere,

Of swarth complexion, and of crabbed hew,

That him full of melancholy did shew;

Bent hollow beetle browes, sharpe staring eyes,

That mad or foolish seemd: one by his vew

Mote deeme him borne with ill disposed skyes,

When oblique _Saturne_ sate in the house[757] of agonyes.

Whom _Alma_ hauing shewed to her guestes, liii

Thence brought them to the second roome, whose wals

Were painted faire with memorable gestes,

Of famous Wisards, and with picturals

Of Magistrates, of courts, of tribunals,

Of commen wealthes, of states, of pollicy,

Of lawes, of iudgements, and of decretals;

All artes, all science, all Philosophy,

And all that in the world was aye thought wittily.

Of those that roome was full, and them among liv

There sate a man of ripe and perfect age,

Who did them meditate all his life long,

That through continuall practise and vsage,

He now was growne right wise, and wondrous sage.

Great pleasure had those stranger knights, to see

His goodly reason, and graue personage,

That his disciples both desir’d to bee;

But _Alma_ thence them led to th’hindmost roome of three.

That chamber seemed ruinous and old, lv

And therefore was remoued farre behind,

Yet were the wals, that did the same vphold,

Right firme and strong, though somewhat they declind;

And therein sate an old oldman, halfe blind,

And all decrepit in his feeble corse,

Yet liuely vigour rested in his mind,

And recompenst him with a better scorse:

Weake body well is[758] chang’d for minds redoubled forse.

This man of infinite remembrance was, lvi

And things foregone through many ages held,

Which he recorded still, as they did pas,

Ne suffred them to perish through long eld,

As all things else, the which this world doth weld,

But laid them vp in his immortall scrine,

Where they for euer incorrupted dweld:

The warres he well remembred of king _Nine_,

Of old _Assaracus_, and _Inachus_ diuine.

The yeares of _Nestor_ nothing were to[759] his, lvii

Ne yet _Mathusalem_, though longest liu’d;

For he remembred both their infancies:

Ne wonder then, if that he were depriu’d

Of natiue strength now, that he them suruiu’d.

His chamber all was hangd about with rolles,

And old records from auncient times deriu’d,

Some made in books, some in long parchment scrolles,

That were all worme-eaten, and full of canker holes.

Amidst them all he in a chaire was set, lviii

Tossing and turning them withouten end;

But for he was vnhable them to fet,

A litle boy did on him still attend,

To reach, when euer he for ought did send;

And oft when things were lost, or laid amis,

That boy them sought, and vnto him did lend.

Therefore he _Anamnestes_ cleped is,

And that old man _Eumnestes_, by their propertis.

The knights there entring, did him reuerence dew lix

And wondred at his endlesse exercise,

Then as they gan his Librarie to vew,

And antique Registers for to auise,

There chaunced to the Princes hand to rize,

An auncient booke, hight _Briton moniments_,

That of this lands first conquest did deuize,

And old diuision into Regiments,

Till it reduced was to one mans gouernments.

Sir _Guyon_ chaunst eke on another booke, lx

That hight _Antiquitie_ of _Faerie_ lond,[760]

In which when as he greedily did looke,[761]

Th’off-spring of Elues and Faries there he fond,

As it deliuered was from hond to hond:

Whereat they burning both with feruent fire,

Their countries auncestry to vnderstond,

Crau’d leaue of _Alma_, and that aged sire,

To read those bookes; who gladly graunted their desire.

FOOTNOTES:

[721] Arg. 4 _fight_ _1596_, _1609_

[722] i 5 incedent _1590_: _corr. F. E._

[723] v 3 thee] a _1609_

[724] vi 9 _Arthogall_, _1590_

[725] vii 5 Now hath] Seuen times _1590_

[726] 6 Walkt round] Hath walkte _1590_. _Cf._ I ix 15

[727] 7 Since _1609_

[728] viii 5 you _1596_

[729] ix 1 weete,] wote, _1590 &c. MS. corr. in Malone 615_

[730] xiii 1 spake _1609_

[731] xv 3 Captaine _1590_, _1596_

[732] xvi 8 with _om. 1596_

[733] xvii 4 perlous _1590_

[734] 5 comflict _1596_

[735] xix 9 crownd _1590_: _corr. F. E._

[736] xx 6 There] Then _1590_

[737] xxi 1 them] him _1590_

[738] 3 sensible _1596_, _1609_

[739] 7 lenger a time _1590_: _corr. F. E._

[740] xxii 9 _Dyapase_ _1590 &c._: _corr. F. E._

[741] xxix 3 thence, _1590 &c._

[742] xxxi 4 th’Achates] the cates _1609_

[743] xxxvii 1 gold, _1590_, _1596_

[744] 8 you loue,] your loue, _1590_, _1596_: _corr. 1609_

[745] xxxviii 2 mood] word _1590 &c._: _corr. Morris_

[746] 9 twelue moneths] three years _1590_

[747] xxxix 3 samblaunt _1596_

[748] xli 1 communed _1609_

[749] 6 Craftesman _1590_, _1596_

[750] 7 Castory] lastery _1590 &c._: _corr. F. E._

[751] xlii 1 cheare] cleare _1590_

[752] xliii 6 why _1590_, _1596_

[753] 9 shamefac’t _1609_

[754] xlviii 3 these] this _1590_

[755] xlix 4 reason] season _Drayton_ (_teste Collier_)

[756] 9 would _1590_

[757] lii 9 th’house _1609_

[758] lv 9 welis _1590_: _corr. F. E._

[759] lvii i to] so _1590_

_Cant. X._

[Illustration:

_A chronicle of Briton kings,

from Brute to Vthers rayne.

And rolles of Elfin Emperours,

till time of Gloriane._

]

Who now shall giue vnto me words and sound, i

Equall vnto this haughtie enterprise?

Or who shall lend me wings, with which from ground

My lowly verse may loftily arise,

And lift it selfe vnto the highest skies?

More ample spirit, then hitherto was wount,

Here needes me, whiles the famous auncestries

Of my most dreaded Soueraigne I recount,

By which all earthly Princes she doth farre surmount.

Ne vnder Sunne, that shines so wide and faire, ii

Whence all that liues, does borrow life and light,

Liues ought, that to her linage may compaire,

Which though from earth it be deriued right,

Yet doth it selfe stretch forth to heauens hight,

And all the world with wonder ouerspred;

A labour huge, exceeding farre my might:

How shall fraile pen, with feare disparaged,

Conceiue such soueraine glory, and great bountihed?

Argument worthy of _Mœonian_ quill, iii

Or rather worthy of great _Phœbus_ rote,

Whereon the ruines of great _Ossa_ hill,

And triumphes of _Phlegræan Ioue_ he wrote,

That all the Gods admird his loftie note.

But if some relish of that heauenly lay

His learned daughters would to me report,

To decke my song withall, I would assay,

Thy name, O soueraine Queene, to blazon farre away.

Thy name O soueraine Queene, thy realme and race, iv

From this renowmed Prince deriued arre,

Who[762] mightily vpheld that royall mace,

Which now thou bear’st, to thee descended farre

From mightie kings and conquerours in warre,

Thy fathers and great[763] Grandfathers of old[764],

Whose noble deedes aboue the Northerne starre

Immortall fame for euer hath enrold;

As in that old mans booke they were in order told.

The land, which warlike Britons now possesse, v

And therein haue their mightie empire raysd,

In antique times was saluage wildernesse,

Vnpeopled, vnmanurd, vnprou’d, vnpraysd,

Ne was it Island then, ne was it paysd

Amid the _Ocean_ waues, ne was it sought

Of marchants[765] farre, for profits therein praysd,

But was all desolate, and of some thought

By sea to haue bene from the Celticke mayn-land brought.

Ne did it then deserue a name to haue, vi

Till that the venturous Mariner that way

Learning his ship from those white rocks to saue,

Which all along the Southerne sea-coast lay,

Threatning vnheedie wrecke and rash decay,

For safeties sake[766] that same his sea-marke made,

And namd it _Albion_. But later day

Finding in it fit ports for fishers trade,

Gan more the same frequent, and further to inuade.

But farre in land a saluage nation dwelt, vii

Of hideous Giants, and halfe beastly men,

That neuer tasted grace, nor goodnesse felt,

But like wild beasts lurking in loathsome den,

And flying fast as Roebucke through the fen,

All naked without shame, or care of cold,

By hunting and by spoiling liued then[767];

Of stature huge, and eke of courage bold,

That sonnes of men amazd their sternnesse to behold.

But whence they sprong, or how they were begot, viii

Vneath is to assure; vneath to wene

That monstrous error, which doth some assot,

That _Dioclesians_ fiftie daughters shene

Into this land by chaunce haue driuen bene,

Where companing with feends and filthy Sprights,

Through vaine illusion of their lust vnclene,

They brought forth Giants and such dreadfull wights,

As farre exceeded men in their immeasurd mights.

They held this land, and with their filthinesse ix

Polluted this same gentle soyle long time:

That their owne mother loathd their beastlinesse,

And gan abhorre her broods vnkindly crime,

All were they borne of her owne natiue slime,

Vntill that _Brutus_ anciently deriu’d

From royall stocke of old _Assaracs_[768] line,

Driuen by fatall error, here arriu’d,

And them of their vniust possession depriu’d.

But ere he had established his throne, x

And spred his empire to the vtmost shore,

He fought great battels with his saluage fone;

In which he them defeated euermore,

And many Giants left on groning flore;

That well can witnesse yet vnto this day

The westerne Hogh, besprincled with the gore

Of mightie _Goëmot_, whom in stout fray

_Corineus_ conquered, and cruelly did slay.

And eke that ample Pit, yet farre renownd, xi

For the large leape, which _Debon_ did compell

_Coulin_ to make, being eight lugs of grownd;

Into the which returning backe, he fell,

But those three monstrous stones doe most excell

Which that huge sonne of hideous _Albion_,

Whose father _Hercules_ in Fraunce did quell,

Great _Godmer_ threw, in fierce contention,

At bold _Canutus_; but of him was slaine anon.

In meed of these great conquests by them got, xii

_Corineus_ had that[769] Prouince vtmost west,

To him assigned for his worthy lot,

Which of his name and memorable gest

He called _Cornewaile_, yet so called best:

And _Debons_ shayre was, that is _Deuonshyre_:

But _Canute_ had his portion from the rest,

The which he cald _Canutium_, for his hyre;

Now _Cantium_, which Kent we commenly inquire.

Thus _Brute_ this Realme vnto his rule subdewd, xiii

And raigned long in great felicitie,

Lou’d of his friends, and of his foes eschewd,

He left three sonnes, his famous progeny,

Borne of faire _Inogene_ of _Italy_;

Mongst whom he parted his imperiall state,

And _Locrine_ left chiefe Lord of _Britany_.

At last ripe age bad him surrender late

His life, and long good fortune vnto finall fate.

_Locrine_ was left the soueraine Lord of all; xiv

But _Albanact_ had all the Northrene part,

Which of himselfe _Albania_ he did call;

And _Camber_ did possesse the Westerne quart,

Which _Seuerne_ now from _Logris_ doth depart:

And each his portion peaceably enioyd,

Ne was there outward breach, nor grudge in hart,

That once their quiet gouernment annoyd,

But each his paines to others profit still employd.

Vntill a nation straung, with visage swart, xv

And courage fierce, that all men did affray,

Which through the world then swarmd in euery part,

And ouerflow’d all countries farre away,

Like _Noyes_ great flood, with their importune sway,

This land inuaded with like violence,

And did themselues through all the North display:

Vntill that _Locrine_ for his Realmes defence,

Did head against them make, and strong munifience[770].

He them encountred, a confused rout, xvi

Foreby the Riuer, that whylome was hight

The auncient _Abus_, where with courage stout

He them defeated in victorious fight,

And chaste so fiercely after fearfull flight,

That forst their Chieftaine, for his safeties sake,

(Their Chieftaine _Humber_ named was aright)

Vnto the mightie streame him to betake,

Where he an end of battell, and of life did make.

The king returned proud of victorie, xvii

And insolent wox through vnwonted ease,

That shortly he forgot the ieopardie,

Which in his land he lately did appease,

And fell to vaine voluptuous disease:

He lou’d faire Ladie _Estrild_, lewdly lou’d,

Whose wanton pleasures him too much did please,

That quite his hart from _Guendolene_ remou’d,

From _Guendolene_ his wife, though alwaies faithfull prou’d.

The noble daughter of _Corineus_ xviii

Would not endure to be so vile disdaind,

But gathering force, and courage valorous,

Encountred him in battell well ordaind,

In which him vanquisht she to fly constraind:

But she so fast pursewd, that him she tooke,

And threw in bands, where he till death remaind;

Als his faire Leman, flying through a brooke,

She ouerhent, nought moued with her piteous looke.

But both her selfe, and eke her daughter deare, xix

Begotten by her kingly Paramoure,

The faire _Sabrina_ almost dead with feare,

She there attached, farre from all succoure;

The one she slew in that impatient stoure[771],

But the sad virgin innocent of all,

Adowne the rolling riuer she did poure,

Which of her name now _Seuerne_ men do call:

Such was the end, that to disloyall loue did fall.

Then for her sonne, which she to _Locrin_ bore, xx

_Madan_ was young, vnmeet the rule to sway[772],

In her owne hand the crowne she kept in store,

Till ryper yeares he raught, and stronger stay:

During which time her powre she did display

Through all this realme, the glorie of her sex,

And first taught men a woman to obay:

But when her sonne to mans estate did wex,

She it surrendred, ne her selfe would lenger vex.

Tho _Madan_ raignd, vnworthie of his race: xxi

For with all shame that sacred throne he fild:

Next _Memprise_, as vnworthy of that place,

In which being consorted with _Manild_,

For thirst of single kingdome him he kild.

But _Ebranck_ salued both their infamies

With noble deedes, and warreyd on _Brunchild_

In _Henault_, where yet of his victories

Braue moniments remaine, which yet that land enuies.

An happie man in his first dayes he was, xxii

And happie father of faire progeny:

For all so many weekes as the yeare has,

So many children he did multiply;

Of which were twentie sonnes, which did apply[773]

Their minds to praise, and cheualrous desire:

Those germans did subdew all Germany,

Of whom it hight; but in the end their Sire

With foule repulse from Fraunce was forced to retire.

Which blot his sonne succeeding in his seat, xxiii

The second _Brute_, the second both in name,

And eke in semblance of his puissance great,

Right well recur’d, and did away that blame

With recompence of euerlasting fame.

He with his victour sword first opened[774]

The bowels of wide Fraunce, a forlorne Dame,

And taught her first how to be conquered;

Since which, with sundrie spoiles she hath beene ransacked.

Let _Scaldis_ tell, and let tell _Hania_, xxiv

And let the marsh of _Estham bruges_ tell,

What colour were their waters that same day,

And all the moore twixt _Eluersham_ and _Dell_,

With bloud of _Henalois_, which therein fell.

How oft that day did sad _Brunchildis_ see

The greene shield dyde in dolorous vermell?

That not _Scuith guiridh_[775] it[776] mote seeme to bee,

But rather _y Scuith gogh_, signe of sad crueltee[777].

His sonne king _Leill_ by fathers labour long, xxv

Enioyd an heritage of lasting peace,

And built _Cairleill_, and built _Cairleon_ strong.

Next _Huddibras_ his realme did not encrease,

But taught the land from wearie warres to cease.

Whose footsteps _Bladud_ following, in arts

Exceld at _Athens_ all the learned preace,

From whence he brought them to these saluage parts,

And with sweet science mollifide their stubborne harts.

Ensample of his wondrous faculty, xxvi

Behold the boyling Bathes at _Cairbadon_,

Which seeth with secret fire eternally,

And in their entrails, full of quicke Brimston,

Nourish the flames, which they are warm’d vpon,

That to their[778] people wealth they forth do well,

And health to euery forreine nation:

Yet he at last contending to excell

The reach of men, through flight into fond mischief fell.

Next him king _Leyr_ in happie peace long raind, xxvii

But had no issue male him to succeed,

But three faire daughters, which were well vptraind,

In all that seemed fit for kingly seed:

Mongst whom his realme he equally decreed

To haue diuided. Tho when feeble age

Nigh to his vtmost date he saw proceed,

He cald his daughters; and with speeches sage

Inquyrd, which of them most did loue her parentage.

The eldest _Gonorill_[779] gan to protest, xxviii

That she much more then her owne life him lou’d:

And _Regan_ greater loue to him profest,

Then all the world, when euer it were proou’d;

But _Cordeill_ said she lou’d him, as behoou’d:

Whose simple answere, wanting colours faire

To paint it forth, him to displeasance moou’d,

That in his crowne he counted her no haire,

But twixt the other twaine his kingdome whole did shaire.

So wedded th’one to _Maglan_ king of Scots, xxix

And th’other to the king of _Cambria_,

And twixt them shayrd his realme by equall lots:

But without dowre the wise _Cordelia_[780]

Was sent to _Aganip_ of _Celtica_.

Their aged Syre, thus eased of his crowne,

A priuate life led in _Albania_,

With _Gonorill_, long had in great renowne,

That nought him grieu’d to bene from rule deposed downe.

But true it is, that when the oyle is spent, xxx

The light goes out, and weeke[781] is throwne away;

So when he had resigned his regiment,

His daughter gan despise his drouping day,

And wearie waxe[782] of his continuall stay.

Tho to his daughter _Regan_[783] he repayrd,

Who him at first well vsed euery way;

But when of his departure she despayrd,

Her bountie she abated, and his cheare empayrd.

The wretched man gan then auise too late, xxxi

That loue is not, where most it is profest,

Too truely tryde in his extreamest state;

At last resolu’d likewise to proue the rest,

He to _Cordelia_ him selfe addrest,

Who with entire affection him receau’d,

As for her Syre and king her seemed best;

And after all an army strong she leau’d,

To war on those, which him had of his realme bereau’d.

So to his crowne she him restor’d againe, xxxii

In which he dyde, made ripe for death by eld,

And after wild, it should to her remaine:

Who peaceably the same long time did weld:

And all mens harts in dew obedience held:

Till that her sisters children, woxen strong

Through proud ambition, against her rebeld,

And ouercommen kept in prison long,

Till wearie of that wretched life, her selfe she hong.

Then gan the bloudie brethren both to raine: xxxiii

But fierce _Cundah_ gan shortly to enuie

His brother _Morgan_, prickt with proud disdaine,

To haue a pere in part of soueraintie,

And kindling coles of cruell enmitie,

Raisd warre, and him in battell ouerthrew:

Whence as he to those woodie hils did flie,

Which hight of him _Glamorgan_, there him slew:

Then did he raigne alone, when he none equall knew.

His sonne _Riuallo_[784] his dead roome did supply, xxxiv

In whose sad time bloud did from heauen raine:

Next great _Gurgustus_, then faire _Cæcily_

In constant peace their kingdomes did containe,

After whom _Lago_, and _Kinmarke_ did raine,

And _Gorbogud_, till farre in yeares he grew:

Then[785] his ambitious sonnes vnto them twaine

Arraught the rule, and from their father drew,

Stout _Ferrex_ and sterne _Porrex_ him in prison threw.

But O, the greedy thirst of royall crowne, xxxv

That knowes no kinred, nor regardes no right,

Stird _Porrex_ vp to put his brother downe;

Who vnto him assembling forreine might,

Made warre on him, and fell him selfe in fight:

Whose death t’auenge, his mother mercilesse,

Most mercilesse of women, _Wyden_ hight,

Her other sonne fast sleeping did oppresse,

And with most cruell hand him murdred pittilesse.

Here ended _Brutus_ sacred progenie, xxxvi

Which had seuen hundred yeares this scepter borne,

With high renowme, and great felicitie;[786]

The noble braunch from th’antique stocke was torne

Through discord, and the royall throne forlorne:

Thenceforth this Realme was into factions rent,

Whilest each of _Brutus_ boasted to be borne,

That in the end was left no moniment

Of _Brutus_, nor of Britons glory auncient.

Then vp arose a man of matchlesse might, xxxvii

And wondrous wit to menage high affaires,

Who stird with[787] pitty of the stressed plight

Of this sad Realme, cut into sundry shaires

By such, as claymd themselues _Brutes_ rightfull haires,

Gathered the Princes of the people loose,

To taken counsell of their common cares;

Who with his wisedom won, him streight did choose

Their king, and swore him fealty to win or loose.

Then made he head against his enimies, xxxviii

And _Ymner_ slew, of[788] _Logris_ miscreate;

Then _Ruddoc_ and proud _Stater_, both allyes,

This of _Albanie_ newly nominate,

And that of _Cambry_ king confirmed late,

He ouerthrew through his owne valiaunce;

Whose countreis he redus’d to quiet state,

And shortly brought to ciuill gouernaunce,

Now one, which earst were many, made through variaunce.

Then made he sacred lawes, which some men say xxxix

Were vnto him reueald in vision,

By which he freed the Traueilers high way,

The Churches part, and Ploughmans portion,

Restraining stealth, and strong extortion;

The gracious _Numa_ of great _Britanie_:

For till his dayes, the chiefe dominion

By strength was wielded without pollicie;

Therefore he first wore crowne of gold for dignitie.

_Donwallo_ dyde (for what may liue for ay?) xl

And left two sonnes, of pearelesse prowesse both;

That sacked _Rome_ too dearely did assay,

The recompence of their periured oth,

And ransackt _Greece_ well tryde, when they were wroth;

Besides subiected _Fraunce_, and _Germany_,

Which yet their prayses speake, all be they loth,

And inly tremble at the memory

Of _Brennus_ and _Bellinus_, kings of Britany.

Next them did _Gurgunt_[789], great _Bellinus_ sonne xli

In rule succeede, and eke in fathers prayse;

He Easterland subdewd, and Danmarke[790] wonne,

And of them both did foy and tribute raise,

The which was dew in his dead fathers dayes:

He also gaue to fugitiues of _Spayne_,

Whom he at sea found wandring from their wayes,

A seate in _Ireland_ safely to remayne,

Which they should hold of him, as subiect to _Britayne_.

After him raigned _Guitheline_ his hayre, xlii

The iustest man and trewest in his dayes,

Who had to wife Dame _Mertia_ the fayre,

A woman worthy of immortall prayse,

Which for this Realme found many goodly layes,

And wholesome Statutes to her husband brought;

Her many deemd to haue beene of the _Fayes_,

As was _Aegerie_, that _Numa_ tought;

Those yet of her be _Mertian_ lawes both nam’d and thought.

Her sonne[791] _Sisillus_[792] after her did rayne, xliii

And then _Kimarus_, and then _Danius_;

Next whom _Morindus_ did the crowne sustaine,

Who, had he not with wrath outrageous,

And cruell rancour dim’d his valorous

And mightie deeds, should matched haue the best:

As well in that same field victorious

Against the forreine _Morands_ he exprest;

Yet liues his memorie, though carcas sleepe in rest.

Fiue sonnes[793] he left begotten of one wife, xliv

All which successiuely by turnes did raine;

First _Gorboman_ a man of vertuous life;

Next _Archigald_, who for his proud disdaine,

Deposed was from Princedome soueraine,

And pitteous _Elidure_ put in his sted;

Who shortly it to him restord againe,

Till by his death he it recouered;

But _Peridure_ and _Vigent_ him disthronized.

In wretched prison long he did remaine, xlv

Till they outraigned had their vtmost date,

And then therein reseized was againe,

And ruled long with honorable state,

Till he surrendred Realme and life to fate.

Then all the sonnes of these fiue brethren raynd

By dew successe, and all their Nephewes late,

Euen thrise eleuen descents the crowne retaynd,

Till aged _Hely_ by dew heritage it gaynd.

He had two sonnes, whose eldest called _Lud_ xlvi

Left of his life most famous memory,

And endlesse moniments of his great good:

The ruin’d wals he did reædifye

Of _Troynouant_, gainst force of enimy,

And built that gate, which of his name is hight,

By which he lyes entombed solemnly.

He left two sonnes, too young to rule aright,

_Androgeus_ and _Tenantius_, pictures of his might.

Whilst they were young, _Cassibalane_ their Eme xlvii

Was by the people chosen in their sted,

Who on him tooke the royall Diademe,

And goodly well long time it gouerned,

Till the prowd _Romanes_ him disquieted,

And warlike _Cæsar_, tempted with the name

Of this sweet Island, neuer conquered,

And enuying the Britons blazed fame,

(O hideous hunger of dominion) hither came.

Yet twise they were repulsed backe againe, xlviii

And twise renforst, backe to their ships to fly,

The whiles with bloud they all the shore did staine,

And the gray _Ocean_ into purple dy:

Ne had they footing found at last perdie,

Had not _Androgeus_, false to natiue soyle,

And enuious of Vncles soueraintie,

Betrayd his contrey vnto forreine spoyle:

Nought else, but treason, from the first this land did foyle.

So by him _Cæsar_ got the victory, xlix

Through great bloudshed, and many a sad assay,

In which him selfe was charged heauily

Of hardy _Nennius_, whom he yet did slay,

But lost his sword, yet to be seene this day.

Thenceforth this land was tributarie made

T’ambitious _Rome_, and did their rule obay,

Till _Arthur_ all that reckoning defrayd[794];

Yet oft the Briton kings against them strongly swayd.

Next him _Tenantius_ raigned, then _Kimbeline_, l

What time th’eternall Lord in fleshly slime

Enwombed was, from wretched _Adams_ line

To purge away the guilt of sinfull crime:

O ioyous memorie of happy time,

That heauenly grace so plenteously displayd;

(O too high ditty for my simple rime.)

Soone after this the _Romanes_ him warrayd[795];

For that their tribute he refusd to let be payd.

Good _Claudius_, that next was Emperour, li

An army brought, and with him battell fought,

In which the king was by a Treachetour

Disguised slaine, ere any thereof thought:

Yet ceased not the bloudy fight for ought;

For _Aruirage_ his brothers place supplide,

Both in his[796] armes, and crowne, and by that draught

Did driue the _Romanes_ to the weaker side,

That they to peace agreed. So all was pacifide.

Was neuer king more highly magnifide, lii

Nor dred of _Romanes_, then was _Aruirage_,

For which the Emperour to him allide

His daughter _Genuiss’_ in marriage:

Yet shortly he renounst the vassalage

Of _Rome_ againe, who hither hastly sent

_Vespasian_, that with great spoile and rage

Forwasted all, till _Genuissa_ gent

Perswaded him to ceasse, and her Lord to relent.

He dyde; and him succeeded _Marius_, liii

Who ioyd his dayes in[797] great tranquillity,

Then _Coyll_, and after him good _Lucius_,

That first receiued Christianitie,

The sacred pledge of Christes Euangely;

Yet true it is, that long before that day

Hither came _Ioseph_ of _Arimathy_,

Who brought with him the holy grayle, (they say)

And preacht the truth, but since it greatly did decay.

This good king shortly without issew dide, liv

Whereof great trouble in the kingdome grew,

That did her selfe in sundry parts diuide,

And with her powre her owne selfe ouerthrew,

Whilest _Romanes_ dayly did the weake subdew:

Which seeing stout _Bunduca_, vp arose,

And taking armes, the _Britons_ to her drew;

With whom she marched streight against her foes,

And them vnwares besides the _Seuerne_ did enclose.

There she with them a cruell battell tride, lv

Not with so good successe, as she deseru’d;

By reason that the Captaines on her side,

Corrupted by _Paulinus_, from her sweru’d:

Yet such, as were through former flight preseru’d[798],

Gathering againe, her Host she did renew,

And with fresh courage on the victour seru’d:

But being all defeated, saue a few,

Rather then fly, or be captiu’d her selfe she slew.

O famous moniment of womens prayse, lvi

Matchable either to _Semiramis_,

Whom antique history so high doth raise,

Or to _Hypsiphil’_ or to _Thomiris_:

Her Host two hundred thousand numbred is;

Who whiles good fortune fauoured her might,

Triumphed oft against her enimis;

And yet though ouercome in haplesse fight,

She triumphed on death, in enemies despight.

Her reliques _Fulgent_ hauing gathered, lvii

Fought with _Seuerus_, and him ouerthrew;

Yet in the chace was slaine of them, that fled:

So made them victours, whom he did subdew.

Then gan _Carausius_ tirannize anew,

And gainst the _Romanes_ bent their proper powre,

But him _Allectus_ treacherously slew,

And took on him the robe of Emperoure:

Nath’lesse the same enioyed but short happy howre:

For _Asclepiodate_ him ouercame, lviii

And left inglorious on the vanquisht playne,

Without or robe, or rag, to hide his shame.

Then afterwards he in his stead did rayne;

But shortly was by _Coyll_ in battell slaine:

Who after long debate, since _Lucies_ time,

Was of the _Britons_ first crownd Soueraine:

Then gan this Realme renewe her passed prime:

He of his name _Coylchester_ built of stone and lime.

Which when the _Romanes_ heard, they hither sent lix

_Constantius_, a man of mickle might,

With whom king _Coyll_ made an agreement,

And to him gaue for wife his daughter bright,

Faire _Helena_, the fairest liuing wight;

Who in all godly thewes, and goodly prayse

Did far excell, but was most famous hight

For skill in Musicke of all in her dayes,

Aswell in curious instruments, as cunning layes.

Of whom he did great _Constantine_ beget, lx

Who afterward was Emperour of _Rome_;

To which whiles absent he his mind did set,

_Octauius_ here lept into his roome,

And it vsurped by vnrighteous doome:

But he his title iustifide by might,

Slaying _Traherne_, and hauing ouercome

The _Romane_ legion in dreadfull fight:

So settled he his kingdome, and confirmd his right.

But wanting issew male, his daughter deare[799] lxi

He gaue in wedlocke to _Maximian_,

And him with her made of his kingdome heyre,

Who soone by meanes thereof the Empire wan,

Till murdred by the friends of _Gratian_;

Then gan the Hunnes and Picts inuade this land,

During the raigne of _Maximinian_;

Who dying left none heire them to withstand,

But that they ouerran all parts with easie hand.

The weary _Britons_, whose war-hable youth lxii

Was by _Maximian_ lately led away,

With wretched miseries, and woefull ruth,

Were to those Pagans made an open pray,

And dayly spectacle of sad decay:

Whom _Romane_ warres, which now foure hundred yeares,

And more had wasted, could no whit dismay;

Till by consent of Commons and of Peares,

They crownd the second _Constantine_ with ioyous teares,

Who hauing oft in battell vanquished lxiii

Those spoilefull Picts, and swarming Easterlings,

Long time in peace his Realme established,

Yet oft annoyd with sundry bordragings

Of neighbour Scots, and forrein Scatterlings,

With which the world did in those dayes abound:

Which to outbarre, with painefull pyonings

From sea to sea he heapt a mightie mound,

Which from _Alcluid_ to _Panwelt_ did that border bound.

Three sonnes he dying left, all vnder age; lxiv

By meanes whereof, their vncle _Vortigere_

Vsurpt the crowne, during their pupillage;

Which th’Infants tutors gathering to feare,

Them closely into _Armorick_ did beare:

For dread of whom, and for those Picts annoyes,

He sent to _Germanie_, straunge aid to reare,

From whence eftsoones arriued here three hoyes

Of _Saxons_, whom he for his safetie imployes.

Two brethren were their Capitains[800], which hight lxv

_Hengist_ and _Horsus_, well approu’d in warre,

And both of them men of renowmed might;

Who making vantage of their ciuill iarre,

And of those forreiners, which came from farre,

Grew great, and got large portions of land,

That in the Realme ere long they stronger arre,

Then they which sought at first their helping hand,

And _Vortiger_ enforst[801] the kingdome to aband.

But by the helpe of _Vortimere_ his sonne, lxvi

He is againe vnto his rule restord,

And _Hengist_ seeming sad, for that was donne,

Receiued is to grace and new accord,

Through his faire daughters face, and flattring word;

Soone after which, three hundred Lordes he slew

Of British bloud, all sitting at his bord;

Whose dolefull moniments who list to rew,

Th’eternall markes of treason may at _Stonheng_ vew.

By this the sonnes of _Constantine_, which fled, lxvii

_Ambrose_[802] and _Vther_ did ripe years attaine,

And here arriuing, strongly challenged

The crowne, which _Vortiger_ did long detaine:

Who flying from his guilt, by them was slaine,

And _Hengist_ eke soone brought to shamefull death.

Thenceforth _Aurelius_ peaceably did rayne,

Till that through poyson stopped was his breath;

So now entombed lyes at Stoneheng by the heath.

After him _Vther_, which _Pendragon_ hight, lxviii

Succeding There abruptly it did end,

Without full point, or other Cesure right,

As if the rest some wicked hand did rend,

Or th’Authour selfe could not at least attend

To finish it: that so vntimely breach

The Prince him selfe halfe seemeth[803] to offend,

Yet secret pleasure did offence empeach,

And wonder of antiquitie long stopt his speach.

At last quite rauisht with delight, to heare lxix

The royall Ofspring of his natiue land,

Cryde out, Deare countrey, O how dearely deare

Ought thy remembraunce, and perpetuall band

Be to thy foster Childe, that from thy hand

Did commun breath and nouriture receaue?

How brutish is it not to vnderstand,

How much to her we owe, that all vs gaue,

That gaue vnto vs all, what euer good we haue.

But _Guyon_ all this while his booke did read, lxx

Ne yet has ended: for it was a great

And ample volume, that doth far excead

My leasure, so long leaues here to repeat:

It told, how first _Prometheus_ did create

A man, of many partes from beasts deriued,

And then stole fire from heauen, to animate

His worke, for which he was by _Ioue_ depriued

Of life him selfe, and hart-strings of an Ægle riued.

That man so made, he called _Elfe_, to weet lxxi

Quick, the first authour of all Elfin kind:

Who wandring through the world with wearie feet,

Did in the gardins of _Adonis_ find

A goodly creature, whom he deemd in mind

To be no earthly wight, but either Spright,

Or Angell, th’authour of all woman kind;

Therefore a _Fay_ he her according hight,

Of whom all _Faeryes_ spring, and fetch their lignage right.

Of these a mightie people shortly grew, lxxii

And puissaunt kings, which all the world warrayd,

And to them selues all Nations did subdew:

The first and eldest, which that scepter swayd,

Was _Elfin_; him all _India_ obayd,

And all that now _America_ men call:

Next him was noble _Elfinan_, who layd

_Cleopolis_ foundation first of all:

But _Elfiline_ enclosd it with a golden wall.

His sonne was _Elfinell_, who ouercame lxxiii

The wicked _Gobbelines_ in bloudy field:

But _Elfant_ was of most renowmed fame,

Who all of Christall did _Panthea_ build:

Then _Elfar_, who two brethren gyants kild,

The one of which had two heads, th’other three:

Then _Elfinor_, who was in Magick skild;

He built by art vpon the glassy See

A bridge of bras, whose sound heauens thunder seem’d to bee.

He left three sonnes, the which in order raynd, lxiv

And all their Ofspring, in their dew descents,

Euen seuen hundred Princes, which maintaynd

With mightie deedes their sundry gouernments;

That were too long their infinite contents

Here to record, ne much materiall:

Yet should they be most famous moniments,

And braue ensample, both of martiall,

And ciuill rule to kings and states imperiall.

After all these _Elficleos_ did rayne, lxxv

The wise _Elficleos_ in great Maiestie,

Who mightily that scepter did sustayne,

And with rich spoiles and famous victorie,

Did high aduaunce the crowne of _Faery_:

He left two sonnes, of which faire _Elferon_

The eldest brother did vntimely dy;

Whose emptie place the mightie _Oberon_

Doubly supplide, in spousall, and dominion.

Great was his power and glorie ouer all, lxxvi

Which him before, that sacred seate did fill,

That yet remaines his wide memoriall:

He dying left the fairest _Tanaquill_,

Him to succeede therein, by his last will:

Fairer and nobler liueth none this howre,

Ne like in grace, ne like in learned skill;

Therefore they _Glorian_ call that glorious flowre,

Long mayst thou _Glorian_ liue, in glory and great powre.

Beguild thus with delight of nouelties, lxxvii

And naturall desire of countreys state,

So long they red in those antiquities,

That how the time was fled, they quite forgate,

Till gentle _Alma_ seeing it so late,

Perforce their studies broke, and them besought

To thinke, how supper did them long awaite.

So halfe vnwilling from their bookes them brought,

And fairely feasted, as so noble knights she ought.

FOOTNOTES:

[760] lx 2 lond. _1596_

[761] 3 looke; _1596_, _1609_

[762] iv 3 Whom _1590_, _1596_: _corr. F. E._

[763] 6 and thy great _1590_: _corr. F. E._

[764] old] gold _1590_: _corr. F. E._

[765] v 7 Marchants _1609_

[766] vi 6 safeties sake] safety _1590_

[767] vii 7 liued then] liueden _1590_

[768] ix 7 _Assaraos_ _1596_

[769] xii 2 that] the _1609_

[770] xv 9 munificence _1590_, _1609_

[771] xix 5 in that impatient stoure] vpon the present floure _1590_

[772] xx 2 of sway _1596_, _1609_

[773] xxii 5 apply, _1590_, _1596_

[774] xxiii 6 opened, _1590_, _1596_

[775] xxiv 8 _Scuith guiridh_ _om. 1590_

[776] it] he _1590_

[777] 9 rather _y Scuith gogh_, signe of sad crueltee _om. 1590_. _But

Seuith Scuith_ _F. E._

[778] xxvi 6 their] her _1590 &c._: _corr. F. E._

[779] xxviii 1 _Gonerill_ _1590_

[780] xxix 4 _Cordelia_, _1590_, _1596_

[781] xxx 2 weeke] wike _1609_

[782] 5 waxe] wox _1609_

[783] 6 _Rigan_ _1596_, _1609_

[784] xxxiv 1 _Riuall’_ _1590_: _Rivall’_ _1609_

[785] 7 Then] Till _1596_: When _1609_

[786] xxxvi 3 felicitie? _1596_

[787] xxxvii 3 with] vp _1596_

[788] xxxviii 2 of] or _1596_, _1609_

[789] xli 1 _Gurgiunt_ _1590_

[790] 3 Denmarke _1590_

[791] xliii 1 sonnes _1596_, _1609_

[792] Sifillus _1590 &c._

[793] xliv 1 sonne _1596_

[794] xlix 8 did defray _1596_, _1609_

[795] l 8 wrrayd _1596_

[796] li 7 his _om. 1596_: In armes, and eke in crowne _1609_

[797] liii 2 in] with _1609_

[798] lv 5 perseru’d _1596_

[799] lxi 1 deare, _1590_, _1596_

[800] lxv 1 Capitayns _1590_: Captains _1596_

[801] 9 enforst] haue forst _1590_

[802] lxvii 2 _Ambrise_ _1596_, _1609_

[803] lxviii 7 seemed _1590_

_Cant. XI._

[Illustration:

_The enimies of Temperaunce

besiege her dwelling place:

Prince Arthur them repelles, and fowle

Maleger doth deface._

]

What warre so cruell, or what siege so sore, i

As that, which strong affections do apply

Against the fort of reason euermore

To bring the soule into captiuitie:

Their force is fiercer through infirmitie

Of the fraile flesh, relenting to their rage,

And exercise most bitter tyranny

Vpon the parts, brought into their bondage:

No wretchednesse is like to sinfull vellenage.

But in a body, which doth freely yeeld ii

His partes to reasons rule obedient,

And letteth her that ought the scepter weeld,

All happy peace and goodly gouernment

Is setled there in sure establishment;

There _Alma_ like a virgin Queene most bright,

Doth florish in all beautie excellent:

And to her guestes doth bounteous banket dight,

Attempred goodly well for health and for delight[804].

Early before the Morne with cremosin ray, iii

The windowes of bright heauen opened had,

Through which into the world the dawning day

Might looke, that maketh euery creature glad,

Vprose Sir _Guyon_, in bright armour clad,

And to his purposd iourney him prepar’d:

With him the Palmer eke in habit sad,

Him selfe addrest to that aduenture hard:

So to the riuers side they both together far’d.

Where them awaited ready at the ford iv

The _Ferriman_, as _Alma_ had behight,

With his well rigged boate: They go abord,

And he[805] eftsoones gan launch his barke forthright.

Ere long they rowed were quite out of sight,

And fast the land behind them fled away.

But let them pas, whiles wind and weather right

Do serue their turnes: here I a while must stay,

To see a cruell fight doen by the Prince this day.

For all so soone, as _Guyon_ thence was gon v

Vpon his voyage with his trustie guide,

That wicked band of villeins fresh begon

That castle to assaile on euery side,

And lay strong siege about it far and wide.

So huge and infinite their numbers were,

That all the land they vnder them did hide;

So fowle and vgly, that exceeding feare

Their visages imprest, when they approched neare.

Them in twelue troupes their Captain did dispart vi

And round about in fittest steades did place,

Where each might best offend his proper part,

And his contrary obiect most deface,

As euery one seem’d meetest in that cace.

Seuen of the same against the Castle gate,

In strong entrenchments he did closely place,

Which with incessaunt force and endlesse hate,

They battred day and night, and entraunce did awate.

The other fiue, fiue sundry wayes he set, vii

Against the fiue great Bulwarkes of that pile,

And vnto each a Bulwarke did arret,

T’assayle with open force or hidden guile,

In hope thereof to win victorious spoile.

They all that charge did feruently apply,

With greedie malice and importune toyle,

And planted there their huge artillery,

With which they dayly made most dreadfull battery.

The first troupe was a monstrous rablement viii

Of fowle misshapen wights, of which some were

Headed like Owles, with beckes[806] vncomely bent,

Others like Dogs, others like Gryphons dreare,

And some had wings, and some had clawes to teare,

And euery one of them had Lynces eyes,

And euery one did bow and arrowes beare:

All those were lawlesse lustes, corrupt enuies,

And couetous aspectes, all cruell enimies.

Those same against the bulwarke of the _Sight_ ix

Did lay strong siege, and battailous assault,

Ne once did yield it respit day nor night,

But soone as _Titan_ gan his head exault,

And soone againe as he his light with hault,

Their wicked engins they against it bent:

That is each thing, by which the eyes may fault,

But two then all more huge and violent,

Beautie, and money, they that Bulwarke sorely rent[807].

The second Bulwarke was the _Hearing_ sence, x

Gainst which the second troupe dessignment[808] makes;

Deformed creatures, in straunge difference,

Some hauing heads like Harts, some like to Snakes,

Some like wild Bores late rouzd out of the brakes;

Slaunderous reproches, and fowle infamies,

Leasings, backbytings, and vaine-glorious crakes,

Bad counsels, prayses, and false flatteries.

All those against that fort did bend their batteries.

Likewise that same third Fort, that is the _Smell_ xi

Of that third troupe was cruelly assayd:

Whose hideous shapes were like to feends of hell,

Some like to hounds, some like to Apes, dismayd[809],

Some like to Puttockes, all in plumes arayd:

All shap’t according their conditions,

For by those vgly formes weren pourtrayd,

Foolish delights and fond abusions,

Which do that sence besiege with light illusions.

And that fourth band, which cruell battry bent, xii

Against the fourth Bulwarke, that is the _Tast_,

Was as the rest, a grysie rablement,

Some mouth’d like greedy Oystriges, some fast[810]

Like loathly Toades, some fashioned in the wast

Like swine; for so deformd is luxury,

Surfeat[811], misdiet, and vnthriftie wast,

Vaine feasts, and idle superfluity:

All those this sences Fort assayle incessantly.

But the fift troupe most horrible of hew, xiii

And fierce of force, was[812] dreadfull to report:

For some like Snailes, some did like spyders shew,

And some like vgly Vrchins thicke and short:

Cruelly they[813] assayled[814] that fift Fort,

Armed with darts of sensuall delight,

With stings of carnall lust, and strong effort

Of feeling pleasures, with which day and night

Against that same fift bulwarke they continued fight.

Thus these twelue troupes with dreadfull puissance xiv

Against that Castle restlesse siege did lay,

And euermore their hideous Ordinance

Vpon the Bulwarkes cruelly did play,

That now it gan to threaten neare decay:

And euermore their wicked Capitaine

Prouoked them the breaches to assay,

Somtimes with threats, somtimes with hope of gaine,

Which by the ransack of that peece they should attaine.

On th’other side, th’assieged Castles ward xv

Their stedfast stonds did mightily maintaine,

And many bold repulse, and many hard

Atchieuement wrought with perill and with paine,

That goodly frame from ruine to sustaine:

And those two brethren Giants did defend

The walles so stoutly with their sturdie maine,

That neuer entrance any durst pretend,

But they to direfull death their groning ghosts did send.

The noble virgin, Ladie of the place[815], xvi

Was much dismayed with that dreadfull sight:

For neuer was she in so euill cace,

Till that the Prince seeing her wofull plight,

Gan her recomfort from so sad affright,

Offring his seruice, and his dearest life

For her defence, against that Carle to fight,

Which was their chiefe and th’author of that strife:

She him remercied as the Patrone of her life.

Eftsoones himselfe in glitterand armes he dight, xvii

And his well proued weapons to him hent;

So taking courteous conge he behight,

Those gates to be vnbar’d, and forth he went.

Faire mote he thee, the prowest and most gent,

That euer brandished bright steele on hye:

Whom soone as that vnruly rablement,

With his gay Squire issuing did espy,

They reard a most outrageous dreadfull yelling cry.

And therewith all attonce at him let fly xviii

Their fluttring arrowes, thicke as flakes of snow,

And round about him flocke impetuously,

Like a great water flood, that tombling low

From the high mountaines, threats to ouerflow

With suddein fury all the fertile plaine,

And the sad husbandmans long hope doth throw

A downe the streame, and all his vowes make vaine,

Nor bounds nor banks his headlong ruine may sustaine.

Vpon his shield their heaped hayle he bore, xix

And with his sword disperst the raskall flockes,

Which fled a sunder, and him fell before,

As withered leaues drop from their dried stockes,

When the wroth Western wind does reaue their locks;

And vnder neath him his courageous steed,

The fierce _Spumador_ trode them downe like docks,

The fierce _Spumador_ borne of heauenly seed:

Such as _Laomedon_ of _Phœbus_ race did breed.

Which suddeine horrour and confused cry, xx

When as their Captaine heard, in haste he yode,

The cause to weet, and fault to remedy;

Vpon a Tygre swift and fierce he rode,

That as the winde ran vnderneath his lode,

Whiles his long legs nigh raught vnto the ground;

Full large he was of limbe, and shoulders brode,

But of such subtile substance and vnsound,

That like a ghost he seem’d, whose graue-clothes were vnbound.

And in his hand a bended bow was seene, xxi

And many arrowes vnder his right side,

All deadly daungerous, all cruell keene,

Headed with flint, and feathers bloudie dide,

Such as the _Indians_ in their quiuers hide;

Those could he well direct and streight as line,

And bid them strike the marke, which he had eyde,

Ne was their salue, ne was their medicine,

That mote recure their wounds: so inly they did tine.

As pale and wan as ashes was his looke, xxii

His bodie leane and meagre as a rake,

And skin all withered like a dryed rooke,

Thereto as cold and drery as a Snake,

That seem’d to tremble euermore, and quake:

All in a canuas thin he was bedight,

And girded with a belt of twisted brake,

Vpon his head he wore an Helmet light,

Made of a dead mans skull, that seem’d a ghastly sight.

_Maleger_ was his name, and after him, xxiii

There follow’d fast at hand two wicked Hags,

With hoarie lockes all loose, and visage grim;

Their feet vnshod, their bodies wrapt in rags,

And both as swift on foot, as chased Stags;

And yet the one her other legge had lame,

Which with a staffe, all full of litle snags

She did support[816], and _Impotence_ her name:

But th’other was _Impatience_, arm’d with raging flame.

Soone as the Carle from farre the Prince espyde, xxiv

Glistring in armes and warlike ornament,

His Beast he felly prickt on either syde,

And his mischieuous bow full readie bent,

With which at him a cruell shaft he sent:

But he was warie, and it warded well

Vpon his shield, that it no further went,

But to the ground the idle quarrell fell:

Then he another and another did expell.

Which to preuent, the Prince his mortall speare xxv

Soone to him raught, and fierce at him did ride,

To be auenged of that shot whyleare:

But he was not so hardie to abide

That bitter stownd, but turning quicke aside

His light-foot beast, fled fast away for feare:

Whom to pursue, the Infant after hide,

So fast as his good Courser could him beare,

But labour lost it was, to weene approch him neare.

For as the winged wind his Tigre fled, xxvi

That vew of eye could scarse him ouertake,

Ne scarse his feet on ground were seene to tred;

Through hils and dales he speedie way did make,

Ne hedge ne ditch his readie passage brake,

And in his flight the villein turn’d his face,

(As wonts the _Tartar_ by the _Caspian_ lake,

When as the _Russian_ him in fight does chace)

Vnto his Tygres taile, and shot at him apace.

Apace he shot, and yet he fled apace, xxvii

Still as the greedy knight nigh to him drew,

And oftentimes he would relent his pace,

That him his foe more fiercely should pursew:

Who[817] when his vncouth manner he did vew,

He gan auize to follow him no more,

But keepe his standing, and his shaftes eschew,

Vntill he quite had spent his perlous store,

And then assayle him fresh, ere he could shift for more.

But that lame Hag, still as abroad he strew xxviii

His wicked arrowes, gathered them againe,

And to him brought, fresh battell to renew:

Which he espying, cast her to restraine

From yielding succour to that cursed Swaine,

And her attaching, thought her hands to tye;

But soone as him dismounted on the plaine,

That other Hag did farre away espy

Binding her sister, she to him ran hastily.

And catching hold of him, as downe he lent, xxix

Him backward ouerthrew, and downe him stayd

With their rude hands and griesly graplement,

Till that the villein comming to their ayd,

Vpon him fell, and lode vpon him layd;

Full litle wanted, but he had him slaine,

And of the battell balefull end had made,

Had not his gentle Squire beheld his paine,

And commen to his reskew, ere his bitter bane.

So greatest and most glorious thing on ground xxx

May often need the helpe of weaker hand;

So feeble is mans state, and life vnsound,

That in assurance it may neuer stand,

Till it dissolued be from earthly band.

Proofe be thou Prince, the prowest man aliue,

And noblest borne of all in _Britayne_[818] land;

Yet thee fierce Fortune did so nearely driue,

That had not grace thee blest, thou shouldest not suruiue[819].

The Squire arriuing, fiercely in his armes xxxi

Snatcht first the one, and then the other Iade,

His chiefest lets and authors of his harmes,

And them perforce withheld with threatned blade,

Least that his Lord they should behind inuade;

The whiles the Prince prickt with reprochfull shame,

As one awakt out of long slombring shade,

Reuiuing thought of glorie and of fame,

Vnited all his powres to purge himselfe from blame.

Like as a fire, the which in hollow caue xxxii

Hath long bene vnderkept, and downe supprest,

With murmurous disdaine doth inly raue,

And grudge, in so streight prison to be prest,

At last breakes forth with furious vnrest[820],

And striues to mount vnto his natiue seat;

All that did earst it hinder and molest,

It now deuoures with flames and scorching heat,

And carries into smoake with rage and horror great.

So mightily the _Briton_ Prince him rouzd xxxiii

Out of his hold, and broke his caitiue bands,

And as a Beare whom angry curres haue touzd,

Hauing off-shakt them, and escapt their hands,

Becomes more fell, and all that him withstands

Treads downe and ouerthrowes. Now had the Carle

Alighted from his Tigre, and his hands

Discharged of his bow and deadly quar’le,

To seize vpon his foe flat lying on the marle.

Which now him turnd to disauantage deare; xxxiv

For neither can he fly, nor other harme,

But trust vnto his strength and manhood meare,

Sith now he is farre from his monstrous swarme,

And of his weapons did himselfe disarme.

The knight yet wrothfull for his late disgrace,

Fiercely aduaunst his valorous right arme,

And him so sore smote with his yron mace,

That groueling to the ground he fell, and fild his place.

Well weened he, that field was then his owne, xxxv

And all his labour brought to happie end,

When suddein vp the villein ouerthrowne,

Out of his swowne arose, fresh to contend,

And gan himselfe to second battell bend,

As hurt he had not bene. Thereby there lay

An huge great stone, which stood vpon one end,

And had not bene remoued many a day;

Some land-marke seem’d to be, or signe of sundry way.

The same he snatcht, and with exceeding sway xxxvi

Threw at his foe, who was right well aware

To shunne the engin of his meant decay;

It booted not to thinke that throw to beare,

But ground he gaue, and lightly leapt areare:

Eft fierce returning, as a Faulcon faire

That once hath failed of her souse full neare,

Remounts againe into the open aire,

And vnto better fortune doth her selfe prepaire.

So braue returning, with his brandisht blade, xxxvii

He to the Carle himselfe againe addrest,

And strooke at him so sternely, that he made

An open passage through his riuen brest,

That halfe the steele behind his back did rest;

Which drawing backe, he looked euermore

When the hart bloud should gush out of his chest,

Or his dead corse should fall vpon the flore;

But his dead corse vpon the flore fell nathemore.

Ne drop of bloud appeared shed to bee, xxxviii

All were the wounde so wide and wonderous,

That through his carkasse one might plainely see:

Halfe in a maze with horror hideous,

And halfe in rage, to be deluded thus,

Againe through both the sides he strooke him quight,

That made his spright to grone full piteous:

Yet nathemore forth fled his groning spright,

But freshly as at first, prepard himselfe to fight.

Thereat he smitten was with great affright, xxxix

And trembling terror did his hart apall,

Ne wist he, what to thinke of that same sight,

Ne what to say, ne what to doe at all;

He doubted, least it were some magicall

Illusion, that did beguile his sense,

Or wandring ghost, that wanted funerall,

Or aerie spirit vnder false pretence,

Or hellish feend raysd vp through diuelish science.

His wonder farre exceeded reasons reach, xl

That he began to doubt his dazeled sight,

And oft of error did himselfe appeach:

Flesh without bloud, a person without spright,

Wounds without hurt, a bodie without might,

That could doe harme, yet could not harmed bee,

That could not die, yet seem’d a mortall wight,

That was most strong in most infirmitee;

Like did he neuer heare, like did he neuer see.

A while he stood in this astonishment, xli

Yet would he not for all his great dismay

Giue ouer to effect his first intent,

And th’vtmost meanes of victorie assay,

Or th’vtmost issew of his owne decay.

His owne good sword _Morddure_[821], that neuer fayld

At need, till now, he lightly threw away,

And his bright shield, that nought him now auayld,

And with his naked hands him forcibly assayld.

Twixt his two mightie armes him vp he snatcht, xlii

And crusht his carkasse so against his brest,

That the disdainfull soule he thence dispatcht,

And th’idle breath all vtterly exprest:

Tho when he felt him dead, a downe he kest

The lumpish corse vnto the senselesse grownd;

Adowne he kest it with so puissant wrest,

That backe againe it did aloft rebownd,

And gaue against his mother earth a gronefull sownd.

As when _Ioues_ harnesse-bearing Bird from hie xliii

Stoupes at a flying heron with proud disdaine,

The stone-dead quarrey fals so forciblie,

That it rebounds against the lowly plaine,

A second fall redoubling backe againe.

Then thought the Prince all perill sure was past,

And that he victor onely did remaine;

No sooner thought, then that the Carle as fast

Gan heap huge strokes on him, as ere he downe was cast.

Nigh his wits end then woxe th’amazed knight, xliv

And thought his labour lost and trauell vaine,

Against this[822] lifelesse shadow so to fight:

Yet life he saw, and felt his mightie maine,

That whiles he marueild still, did still him paine:

For thy he gan some other wayes aduize,

How to take life from that dead-liuing swaine,

Whom still he marked freshly to arize

From th’earth, and from her wombe new spirits to reprize.

He then remembred well, that had bene sayd, xlv

How th’Earth his mother was, and first him bore;

She eke so often, as his life decayd,

Did life with vsury to him restore,

And raysd him vp much stronger then before,

So soone as he vnto her wombe did fall;

Therefore to ground he would him cast no more,

Ne him commit to graue terrestriall,

But beare him farre from hope of succour vsuall.

Tho vp he caught him twixt his puissant hands, xlvi

And hauing scruzd out of his carrion corse

The lothfull life, now loosd from sinfull bands,

Vpon his shoulders carried him perforse

Aboue three furlongs, taking his full course,

Vntill he came vnto a standing lake;

Him thereinto he threw without remorse,

Ne stird, till hope of life did him forsake;

So end of that Carles dayes, and his owne paines did make.

Which when those wicked Hags from farre did spy, xlvii

Like two mad dogs they ran about the lands,

And th’one of them with dreadfull yelling cry,

Throwing away her broken chaines and bands,

And hauing quencht her burning fier brands,

Hedlong her selfe did cast into that lake;

But _Impotence_ with her owne wilfull hands,

One of _Malegers_ cursed darts did take,

So riu’d her trembling hart, and wicked end did make.

Thus now alone he conquerour remaines; xlviii

Tho comming to his Squire, that kept his steed,

Thought to haue mounted, but his feeble vaines

Him faild thereto, and serued not his need,

Through losse of bloud, which from his wounds did bleed,

That he began to faint, and life decay:

But his good Squire him helping vp with speed,

With stedfast hand vpon his horse did stay,

And led him to the Castle by the beaten way.

Where many Groomes and Squiers readie were, xlix

To take him from his steed full tenderly,

And eke the fairest _Alma_ met him there

With balme and wine and costly spicery,

To comfort him in his infirmity;

Eftsoones she causd him vp to be conuayd,

And of his armes despoyled easily,

In sumptuous bed she made him to be layd,

And all the while his wounds were dressing, by him stayd.

FOOTNOTES:

[804] ii 9 and delight _1596_

[805] iv 4 he _om. 1596_

[806] viii 3 beakes _1609_

[807] ix 9 they against that Bulwarke lent _1590_

[808] x 2 assignment _1590_

[809] xi 4 mismayd _conj. Jortin_

[810] xii 4 fac’t _1609_

[811] 7 Surfait _1609_

[812] xiii 2 was] is _1590_

[813] 5 They cruelly _1609_

[814] assayed _1590_

[815] xvi 1 that place _1609_

[816] xxiii 8 disport _1596_, _1609_

[817] xxvii 5 Who] But _1590_

[818] xxx 7 _Britom_ _1590_: _corr. F. E._: _Briton_ _1596_, _1609_

[819] 9 reuiue _1590 &c._: _corr. F. E._

[820] xxxii 5 vnrest] infest _1590_

[821] xli 6 _Mordure_ _1590_, _1596_

[822] xliv 3 this] his _1590_: _corr. F. E._

_Cant. XII._

[Illustration:

_Guyon, by[823] Palmers gouernance,

passing through[824] perils great,

Doth ouerthrow the Bowre of blisse,

and Acrasie defeat._

]

Now gins this goodly frame of Temperance i

Fairely to rise, and her adorned hed

To pricke of highest praise forth to aduance,

Formerly[825] grounded, and fast setteled

On firme foundation of true bountihed;

And this braue knight, that for that[826] vertue fights,

Now comes to point of that same perilous sted,

Where Pleasure dwelles in sensuall delights,

Mongst thousand dangers, and ten thousand magick mights.

Two dayes now in that sea he sayled has, ii

Ne euer land beheld, ne liuing wight,

Ne ought saue perill, still as he did pas:

Tho when appeared the third _Morrow_ bright,

Vpon the waues to spred her trembling light,

An hideous roaring farre away they heard,

That all their senses filled with affright,

And streight they saw the raging surges reard

Vp to the skyes, that them of drowning made affeard.

Said then the Boteman, Palmer stere aright, iii

And keepe an euen course; for yonder way

We needes must passe (God do vs well acquight,)

That is the _Gulfe of Greedinesse_, they say,

That deepe engorgeth all this worldes pray:

Which hauing swallowd vp excessiuely,

He soone in vomit vp againe doth lay,

And belcheth forth his superfluity,

That all the seas for feare do[827] seeme away to fly.

On th’other side an hideous Rocke is pight, iv

Of mightie _Magnes_ stone, whose craggie clift

Depending from on high, dreadfull to sight,

Ouer the waues his rugged armes doth lift,

And threatneth downe to throw his ragged rift

On who so commeth nigh; yet nigh it drawes

All passengers, that none from it can shift:

For whiles they fly that Gulfes deuouring iawes,

They on this rock are rent, and sunck in helplesse wawes.

Forward they passe, and strongly he them rowes, v

Vntill they nigh vnto that Gulfe arriue,

Where streame more violent and greedy growes:

Then he with all his puissance doth striue

To strike his oares, and mightily doth driue

The hollow vessell through the threatfull waue,

Which gaping wide, to swallow them aliue,

In th’huge abysse of his engulfing graue,

Doth rore at them in vaine, and with great terror raue.

They passing by, that griesly mouth did see, vi

Sucking the seas into his entralles deepe,

That seem’d more horrible then hell to bee,

Or that darke dreadfull hole of _Tartare_ steepe,

Through which the damned ghosts doen often creepe

Backe to the world, bad liuers to torment:

But nought that falles into this direfull deepe,

Ne that approcheth nigh the wide descent,

May backe returne, but is condemned to be drent.

On th’other side, they saw that perilous Rocke, vii

Threatning it selfe on them to ruinate,

On whose sharpe clifts the ribs of vessels broke,

And shiuered ships, which had bene wrecked late,

Yet stuck, with carkasses exanimate

Of such, as hauing all their substance spent

In wanton ioyes, and lustes intemperate,

Did afterwards make shipwracke violent,

Both of their life, and fame for euer fowly blent.

For thy, this hight _The Rocke of_ vile _Reproch_, viii

A daungerous and detestable place,

To which nor fish nor fowle did once approch,

But yelling Meawes, with Seagulles hoarse and bace,

And Cormoyrants, with birds of rauenous race,

Which still sate waiting[828] on that wastfull clift,

For spoyle of wretches, whose vnhappie cace,

After lost credite and consumed thrift,

At last them driuen hath to this despairefull drift.

The Palmer seeing them in safetie past, ix

Thus said; Behold[829] th’ensamples in our sights,

Of lustfull luxurie and thriftlesse wast:

What now is left of miserable wights,

Which spent their looser daies in lewd delights,

But shame and sad reproch, here to be red,

By these rent reliques, speaking their ill plights?

Let all that liue, hereby be counselled,

To shunne _Rocke of Reproch_, and it as death to dred.