It was a lovely spot, a place adorned in the most perfect way by which
art could imitate nature; everything sweet and pleasing, or that the
daintiest fancy could devise, was gathered here in lavish profusion. A
light fence enclosed it, and a rich ivory gate, wonderfully carven,
stood open to all those that came thither.
[Illustration:
“=Ere long they heard an hideous bellowing
Of many beasts, that roared outrageously.
* * * * *
But soone as they approcht with deadly threat,
The Palmer over them his staffe upheld.=”
]
In the porch sat a tall, handsome porter, whose looks were so pleasant
that he seemed to entice travellers to him, but it was only to deceive
them to their own ruin. He was the keeper of the garden, and his name
was _Pleasure_. He was decked with flowers, and by his side was set a
great bowl of wine, with which he pleased all new-comers. He offered it
to Sir Guyon, but the latter refused his idle courtesy, and overthrew
the bowl.
Passing through the gate, they beheld a large and spacious plain, strewn
on every side with delights. The ground was covered with green grass,
and made beautiful with all kinds of lovely flowers; the skies were
always bright, and the air soft and balmy; no storm or frost ever came
to harm the tender blossoms; neither scorching heat nor piercing cold to
hurt those who dwelt therein.
Guyon wondered much at the loveliness of that sweet place, yet would not
suffer any of its delights to allure him, but passed straight through,
and still looked forward. Presently he came to a beautiful arbour,
fashioned out of interlacing boughs and branches. This was arched over
with a clustering vine, richly laden with bunches of luscious
grapes—some were deep purple like the hyacinth—some like rubies,
laughing red—some like emeralds, not yet well ripened, and there were
others of burnished gold. They almost broke down the branches with their
weight, and seemed to offer themselves to be freely gathered by the
passers-by.
In the arbour sat a finely dressed lady; she held in her left hand a
golden cup, and with her right hand she gathered the ripe fruit, and
squeezed the juice of the grapes into the cup. It was her custom to give
a draught of this wine to every stranger that passed, but when she
offered it to Guyon to taste, he took the cup out of her hand, and flung
it to the ground, so that it was broken and all the wine spilt.
_Excess_, for that was the lady’s name, was very angry at this, but she
could not withstand the Knight, and was obliged to let him pass, and he
went on, heedless of her displeasure.
Then before his eyes appeared a most lovely paradise, abounding in every
sort of pleasure: rainbow-coloured flowers, lofty trees, shady dells,
breezy mountains, rustling groves, crystal streams—it was impossible to
tell which was art and which nature, they were so cunningly mingled;
both combined made greater the beauty of the other, and adorned this
garden with an endless variety.
In the midst of all, stood a fountain made of the most precious
materials on earth, so pure and bright that one could see the silver
flood running through every channel. It was wrought all over with
curious carving, and above all was spread a trail of ivy of the purest
gold, coloured like nature, so that any one who saw it would surely
think it was real ivy. Numberless little streams continually welled out
of this fountain, and formed a little lake, through the shallow water of
which one could see the bottom, all paved with shining jasper.
Then at last Sir Guyon and the Palmer drew near to the “Bower of Bliss,”
so called by the foolish favourites of the wicked enchantress.
“Now, sir, consider well,” said the Palmer, “for here is the end of all
our travel. Here dwells Acrasia, whom we must surprise, or else she will
slip away, and laugh at our attempt.”
Soon they heard the most lovely melody, such as might never be heard on
mortal ground. It was almost impossible to say what kind of music it
was, for all that is pleasing to the ear there joined in harmony—the
joyous singing of birds, angelic voices, silver-sounding instruments,
murmuring waters, and the whispering wind; and through it all they heard
the singing of one voice, sweeter than all the others.
But in spite of the lovely music heard on every side, Sir Guyon and the
Palmer never left their path; they kept on through many groves and
thickets, till at last they came in sight of the wicked enchantress
herself. She lay, half-sleeping, on a bed of roses, clad in a veil of
silk and silver; all round were many fair ladies and boys singing
sweetly. Not far off was her last victim, a gallant-looking youth, over
whom she had cast an evil spell. His brave sword and armour hung idly on
a tree, and he lay sunk in a heavy slumber, forgetful of all the noble
deeds in which he had once delighted.
Sir Guyon and the Palmer cautiously drew near, then suddenly rushed
forward, and flung over Acrasia a net which the skilful Palmer had made
for the occasion. All her attendants immediately fled in terror. Acrasia
tried all her arts and crafty wiles to set herself free, but in vain;
the net was so cunningly woven, neither guile nor force could
disentangle her.
[Illustration: A knight and an old man standing near a fallen knight on
the ground while a woman lies nearby reaching out toward them.]
Then Sir Guyon broke down without pity all the pleasant bowers, and the
stately palace, and trampled down the gardens, and burnt the
banqueting-hall, so that nothing was left of the beautiful place to
tempt other people to ruin.
As for Acrasia, they led her away captive, bound with adamantine chains,
for nothing else would keep her safe; and when they came back to the
place where they had met the wild beasts, these again flew fiercely at
them, as if they would rescue their mistress. But the Palmer soon
pacified them.
Then Guyon asked what was the meaning of these beasts that lived there.
“These seeming beasts are really men whom the enchantress has thus
transformed,” replied the Palmer. “Now they are turned into these
hideous figures, in accordance with their bad and ugly minds.”
“A sad end of an ignoble life, and a mournful result of excess in
pleasure,” said the Knight. “But, Palmer, if it may so please you, let
them be returned to their former state.”
So the Palmer struck them with his staff, and immediately they were
turned into men. Very queer and ill at ease they looked. Some were
inwardly ashamed, and some were angry to see the Lady Acrasia captive.
But one in particular, who had lately been a hog, Grill by name, loudly
lamented, and abused the Knight for bringing him back from the shape of
a hog into that of a man.
Then said Guyon, “See how low a man can sink, to forget so soon the
excellence in which he was created, and to choose rather to be a beast
without intelligence!”
“Worthless men delight in base things,” said the Palmer. “Let Grill be
Grill, and have his hoggish mind. But let us depart hence, while wind
and weather serve.”
So Sir Guyon, having overthrown the power of the wicked enchantress,
went back to the house of Alma, where he had left Prince Arthur. The
captive Acrasia he sent under a strong guard to the court of the Faerie
Queene, to be presented to Queen Gloriana as a proof that he had
accomplished his hard task; but he himself travelled forth with Prince
Arthur, to make further trial of his strength and to seek fresh
adventures.
[Illustration: Person in a cloak holding a staff standing next to a
hooded figure.]