Chapter X: Appendix: Stanzas Omitted in the Second Edition (1596) 517 (8)

Betwixt them both, they haue me doen to dye, xxxiii
Through wounds, and strokes, and stubborne handeling,
That death were better, then such agony,
As griefe and furie vnto me did bring;
Of which in me yet stickes the mortall sting,
That during life will neuer be appeasd.
When he thus ended had his sorrowing,
Said _Guyon_, Squire, sore haue ye beene diseasd;
But all your hurts may soone through temperance be easd.

Then gan the Palmer thus, Most[573] wretched man, xxxiv
That to affections does the bridle lend;
In their beginning they are weake and wan,
But soone through suff’rance grow to fearefull end;
Whiles they are weake betimes with them contend:
For when they once to perfect strength do grow,
Strong warres they make, and cruell battry bend
Gainst fort of Reason, it to ouerthrow:
Wrath, gealosie, griefe, loue this Squire haue layd thus low.

Wrath, gealosie, griefe, loue do thus expell: xxxv
Wrath is a fire, and gealosie a weede,
Griefe is a flood, and loue a monster fell;
The fire of sparkes, the weede of little seede,
The flood of drops, the Monster filth did breede:
But sparks, seed, drops, and filth do thus delay;
The sparks soone quench, the springing seed outweed,[574]
The drops dry vp, and filth wipe cleane away:
So shall wrath, gealosie, griefe, loue dye and decay.

Vnlucky Squire (said _Guyon_) sith thou hast xxxvi
Falne into[575] mischiefe through intemperaunce,
Henceforth take heede of that thou now hast past,
And guide thy wayes with warie gouernaunce,
Least worse betide thee by some later chaunce.
But read how art thou nam’d, and of what kin.
_Phedon_[576] I hight (quoth he) and do aduaunce
Mine auncestry from famous _Coradin_,
Who first to rayse our house to honour did begin.

Thus as he spake, lo far away they spyde xxxvii
A varlet running towards hastily,
Whose flying feet so fast their way applyde,
That round about a cloud of dust did fly,
Which mingled all with sweate, did dim his eye.
He soone approched, panting, breathlesse, whot,
And all so soyld, that none could him descry;
His countenaunce was bold, and bashed not
For _Guyons_ lookes, but scornefull eyglaunce at him shot.

Behind his backe he bore a brasen shield, xxxviii
On which was drawen faire, in colours fit,
A flaming fire in midst of bloudy field,
And round about the wreath this word was writ,
_Burnt I do burne_. Right well beseemed it,
To be the shield of some redoubted knight;
And in his hand two darts exceeding flit,
And deadly sharpe he held, whose heads were dight
In poyson and in bloud, of malice and despight.

When he in presence came, to _Guyon_ first xxxix
He boldly spake, Sir knight, if knight thou bee,
Abandon this forestalled place at erst,
For feare of further harme, I counsell thee,
Or bide the chaunce at thine owne ieoperdie.
The knight at his great boldnesse wondered,
And though he scornd his idle vanitie,
Yet mildly him to purpose answered;
For not to grow of nought he it coniectured.

Varlet, this place most dew to me I deeme, xl
Yielded by him, that held it forcibly.
But whence should come that harme, which thou doest seeme
To threat to him, that minds his chaunce t’abye?
Perdy (said he) here comes, and is hard by
A knight of wondrous powre, and great assay,
That neuer yet encountred enemy,
But did him deadly daunt, or fowle dismay;
Ne thou for better hope, if thou his presence stay.

How hight he then (said _Guyon_) and from whence? xli
_Pyrochles_[577] is his name, renowmed farre
For his bold feats and hardy confidence,
Full oft approu’d in many a cruell warre,
The brother of _Cymochles_, both which arre
The sonnes of old _Acrates_ and _Despight_,
_Acrates_ sonne of _Phlegeton_ and _Iarre_;
But _Phlegeton_ is sonne of _Herebus_ and _Night_;
But _Herebus_ sonne of _Aeternitie_ is hight.

So from immortall race he does proceede, xlii
That mortall hands may not withstand his might,
Drad for his derring do, and bloudy deed;
For all in bloud and spoile is his delight.
His am I _Atin_, his in wrong and right,
That matter make for him to worke vpon,
And stirre him vp to strife and cruell fight.
Fly therefore, fly this fearefull stead anon,
Least thy foolhardize worke thy sad confusion.

His be that care, whom most it doth concerne, xliii
(Said he) but whither with such hasty flight
Art thou now bound? for well mote I discerne
Great cause, that carries thee so swift and light.
My Lord (quoth he) me sent, and streight behight
To seeke _Occasion_,[578] where so she bee:
For he is all disposd to bloudy fight,
And breathes out wrath and hainous crueltie;
Hard is his hap, that first fals in his ieopardie.

Madman (said then the Palmer) that does seeke xliv
_Occasion_ to wrath, and cause of strife;
She comes vnsought, and shonned followes eke.
Happy, who can abstaine, when Rancour rife
Kindles Reuenge, and threats his rusty knife;
Woe neuer wants, where euery cause is caught,
And rash _Occasion_ makes vnquiet life.
Then loe, where bound she sits, whom thou hast sought,
(Said _Guyon_,) let that message to thy Lord be brought.

That when the varlet heard and saw, streight way xlv
He wexed wondrous wroth, and said, Vile knight,
That knights and knighthood doest with shame vpbray,
And shewst th’ensample of thy childish might,
With silly weake old woman thus to[579] fight.
Great glory and gay spoile sure hast thou got,
And stoutly prou’d thy puissaunce here in sight;
That shall _Pyrochles_ well requite, I wot,
And with thy bloud abolish so reprochfull blot.

With that one of his thrillant darts he threw, xlvi
Headed with ire and vengeable despight;
The quiuering steele his aymed end well knew,
And to his brest it selfe intended right:
But he was warie, and ere it empight
In the meant marke, aduaunst his shield atweene,
On which it seizing, no way enter might,
But backe rebounding, left the forckhead keene;
Eftsoones he fled away, and might no where be seene.

FOOTNOTES:

[552] Arg. 3 _Phedon_] _Phaon_ _1590_

[553] 4 _strife_ _1590_, _1596_

[554] i 2 (what) _1590_

[555] iv 3 walke. _1590_, _1596_

[556] x 4 He is not] He is no _1590 &c._: _corr. F. E._

[557] xii 8 tongue _1590_: tonge _F. E._

[558] 9 lock, _1590_, _1596_

[559] xvii 3 surpryse _1590_, _1596_

[560] 6 one] wretch _1590_

[561] 8 occasion] her guilful trech _1590_

[562] 9 light vpon] wandring ketch _1590_

[563] xviii 8 Or] Our _1609_

[564] xix 8 one,] one; _1596_

[565] xx 1 partake, _1590_, _1596_

[566] xxi 7 Sunne, _1590_, _1596_

[567] xxii 1 ere] ear _1590_

[568] 3 disposd _1590_, _1596_

[569] xxviii 2 _Priene_, _1596_

[570] 4 discerned _1609_

[571] 8 deathez _1609_

[572] xxxii 6 I,] I _1590_, _1596_

[573] xxxiv 1 most _1590_, _1596_

[574] xxxv 7 outweed _1590_, _1596_

[575] xxxvi 2 into] vnto _1596_

[576] 7 _Phedon_] _Phaon_ _1590_

[577] xli 2 _Pyrrhochles_ _1590 &c., passim_: _corr. F. E._

[578] xliii 6 _Occasion_; _1590_, _1596_

[579] xlv 5 thus to] that did _1590_

_Cant. V._

_Pyrochles does with Guyon fight,
And Furors chayne vnbinds:[580]
Of whom sore hurt, for his reuenge
Atin Cymochles finds.[581]_
]

Who euer doth to temperaunce apply i
His stedfast life, and all his actions frame,
Trust me, shall find no greater enimy,
Then stubborne perturbation, to the same;
To which right well the wise do giue that name,
For it the goodly peace of stayed mindes
Does ouerthrow, and troublous warre proclame:
His owne woes authour, who so bound it findes,
As did _Pyrochles_, and it wilfully vnbindes.

After that varlets flight, it was not long, ii
Ere on the plaine fast pricking _Guyon_ spide
One in bright armes embatteiled full strong,
That as the Sunny beames do glaunce and glide
Vpon the trembling waue, so shined bright,
And round about him threw forth sparkling fire,
That seemd him to enflame on euery side:
His steed was bloudy red, and fomed ire,
When with the maistring spur he did him roughly stire.

Approching nigh, he neuer stayd to greete, iii
Ne chaffar[582] words, prowd courage to prouoke,
But prickt so fiers, that vnderneath his feete
The smouldring dust did round about him smoke,
Both horse and man nigh able for to choke;
And fairly couching his steele-headed speare,
Him first saluted with a sturdy stroke;
It booted nought Sir _Guyon_ comming neare
To thinke, such hideous puissaunce on foot to beare.

But lightly shunned it, and passing by, iv
With his bright blade did smite at him so fell,
That the sharpe steele arriuing forcibly
On his broad shield, bit not, but glauncing fell
On his horse necke before the quilted sell,[583]
And from the head the body sundred quight.
So him dismounted low, he did compell
On foot with him to matchen equall fight;
The truncked beast fast bleeding, did him fowly dight.

Sore bruzed with the fall, he slow vprose, v
And all enraged, thus him loudly shent;
Disleall knight, whose coward courage chose
To wreake it selfe on beast all innocent,
And shund the marke, at which it should be ment,
Thereby thine armes seeme strong, but manhood fraile;
So hast thou oft with guile thine honour blent;
But litle may such guile thee now auaile,
If wonted force and fortune do not much me faile[584].

With that he drew his flaming sword, and strooke vi
At him so fiercely, that the vpper marge
Of his seuenfolded shield away it tooke,
And glauncing on his helmet, made a large
And open gash therein: were not his targe,
That broke the violence of his intent,
The weary soule from thence it would discharge;
Nathelesse so sore a buff to him it lent,
That made him reele, and to his brest his beuer bent.

Exceeding wroth was _Guyon_ at that blow, vii
And much ashamd, that stroke of liuing arme
Should him dismay, and make him stoup so low,
Though otherwise it did him litle harme:
Tho hurling high his yron braced arme,
He smote so manly on his shoulder plate,
That all his left side it did quite disarme;
Yet there the steele stayd not, but inly bate
Deepe in his flesh, and opened wide a red floodgate.

Deadly dismayd, with horrour of that dint viii
_Pyrochles_ was, and grieued eke entyre;
Yet nathemore did it his fury stint,
But added flame vnto his former fire,
That welnigh molt his hart in raging yre,
Ne thenceforth his approued skill, to ward,
Or strike, or hurtle[585] round in warlike[586] gyre,
Remembred he, ne car’d for his saufgard,
But rudely rag’d, and like a cruell Tygre far’d.

He hewd, and lasht, and foynd, and thundred blowes, ix
And euery way did seeke into his life,
Ne plate, ne male could ward so mighty throwes,
But yielded passage to his cruell knife.
But _Guyon_, in the heat of all his strife,
Was warie wise, and closely did awayt
Auauntage, whilest his foe did rage most rife;
Sometimes a thwart, sometimes he strooke him strayt,
And falsed oft his blowes, t’illude him with such bayt.

Like as a Lyon, whose imperiall powre x
A prowd rebellious Vnicorne defies,
T’auoide the rash assault and wrathfull stowre
Of his fiers foe, him to a tree applies,
And when him running in full course he spies,
He slips aside; the whiles that furious beast
His precious horne, sought of his enimies[587],
Strikes in the stocke, ne thence can be releast[588],
But to the mighty victour yields a bounteous feast.

With such faire slight him _Guyon_ often faild, xi
Till at the last all breathlesse, wearie, faint
Him spying, with fresh onset he assaild,
And kindling new his courage seeming queint,
Strooke him so hugely, that through great constraint
He made him stoup perforce vnto his knee,
And do vnwilling worship to the Saint,
That on his shield depainted he did see;
Such homage till that instant neuer learned hee.

Whom _Guyon_ seeing stoup, pursewed fast xii
The present offer of faire victory,
And soone his dreadfull blade about he cast,
Wherewith he smote his haughty crest so hye,
That streight on ground made him full low to lye;
Then on his brest his victour foote he thrust,
With that he cryde, Mercy, do me not dye,
Ne deeme thy force by[589] fortunes doome vniust,
That hath (maugre her spight) thus low me laid in dust.

Eftsoones his cruell hand Sir _Guyon_ stayd, xiii
Tempring the passion with aduizement slow,
And maistring might on enimy dismayd:
For th’equall dye of warre he well did know;
Then to him said, Liue and allegaunce owe,
To him that giues thee life and libertie,
And henceforth by this dayes ensample trow,
That hasty wroth, and heedlesse hazardrie
Do breede repentaunce late, and lasting infamie.

So vp he let him rise, who with grim looke xiv
And count’naunce sterne vpstanding, gan to grind
His grated teeth for great disdeigne, and shooke
His sandy lockes, long hanging downe behind,
Knotted in bloud and dust, for griefe of mind,
That he in ods of armes was conquered;
Yet in himselfe some comfort he did find,
That him so noble knight had maistered,
Whose bounty more then might, yet both he wondered.

Which _Guyon_ marking said, Be nought agrieu’d, xv
Sir knight, that thus ye now subdewed arre:
Was neuer man, who most conquestes atchieu’d,[590]
But sometimes had the worse, and lost by warre,
Yet shortly gaynd, that losse exceeded farre:
Losse is no shame, nor to be lesse then foe,
But to be lesser, then himselfe, doth marre
Both loosers lot, and victours prayse alsoe.
Vaine others ouerthrowes, who selfe[591] doth ouerthrowe.

Fly, O _Pyrochles_, fly the dreadfull warre, xvi
That in thy selfe thy lesser parts do moue,
Outrageous anger, and woe-working iarre,
Direfull impatience, and hart murdring loue;
Those, those thy foes, those warriours far remoue,
Which thee to endlesse bale captiued lead.
But sith in might thou didst my mercy proue,
Of curtesie to me the cause aread,[592]
That thee against me drew with so impetuous dread.

Dreadlesse (said he) that shall I soone declare: xvii
It was complaind, that thou hadst done great tort
Vnto an aged woman, poore and bare,
And thralled her in chaines with strong effort,
Voide of all succour and needfull comfort:
That ill beseemes thee, such as I thee see,
To worke such shame. Therefore I thee exhort,
To chaunge thy will, and set _Occasion_[593] free,
And to her captiue sonne yield his first libertee.

Thereat Sir _Guyon_ smilde, And is that all xviii
(Said he) that thee so sore displeased hath?
Great mercy sure, for to enlarge a thrall,
Whose freedome shall thee turne to greatest scath.
Nath’lesse now quench thy whot emboyling[594] wrath:
Loe there they be; to thee I yield them free.
Thereat he wondrous glad, out of the path
Did lightly leape, where he them bound did see,
And gan to breake the bands of their captiuitee.

Soone as _Occasion_ felt her selfe vntyde, xix
Before her sonne could well assoyled bee,
She to her vse returnd, and streight defyde
Both _Guyon_ and _Pyrochles_: th’one (said shee[595])
Bycause he wonne; the other because hee
Was wonne: So matter did she make of nought,
To stirre vp strife, and do[596] them disagree:
But soone as _Furor_ was enlargd, she sought
To kindle his quencht fire, and thousand causes wrought.

It was not long, ere she inflam’d him so, xx
That he would algates with _Pyrochles_ fight,
And his redeemer chalengd for his foe,
Because he had not well mainteind his right,
But yielded had to that same straunger knight:
Now gan _Pyrochles_ wex as wood, as hee,
And him affronted with impatient might:
So both together fiers engrasped bee,
Whiles _Guyon_ standing by, their vncouth strife does see.

Him all that while _Occasion_ did prouoke xxi
Against _Pyrochles_, and new matter framed
Vpon the old, him stirring to be wroke
Of his late wrongs, in which she oft him blamed
For suffering such abuse, as knighthood shamed,
And him dishabled quite. But he was wise
Ne would with vaine occasions[597] be inflamed;
Yet others she more vrgent did deuise:
Yet nothing could him to impatience entise.

Their fell contention still increased more, xxii
And more thereby increased _Furors_ might,
That he his foe has hurt, and wounded sore,
And him in bloud and durt deformed quight.
His mother eke, more to augment his spight[598],
Now brought to him a flaming fire[599] brond,
Which she in _Stygian_ lake, ay burning bright,[600]
Had kindled: that she gaue into his hond,
That armd with fire, more hardly he mote him withstond.

Tho gan that[601] villein wex so fiers and strong, xxiii
That nothing might sustaine his furious forse;
He cast him downe to ground, and all along
Drew him through durt and myre without remorse,
And fowly battered his comely corse,
That _Guyon_ much disdeignd so loathly sight.
At last he was compeld to cry perforse,
Helpe, O Sir _Guyon_, helpe most noble knight,
To rid a wretched man from hands of hellish wight.

The knight was greatly moued at his plaint, xxiv
And gan him dight to succour his distresse,
Till that the Palmer, by his graue restraint,
Him stayd from yielding pitifull redresse;
And said, Deare sonne, thy causelesse ruth represse,
Ne let thy stout hart melt in pitty vayne:
He that his sorrow sought through wilfulnesse,
And his foe fettred would release agayne,[602]
Deserues to tast his follies fruit, repented payne.

_Guyon_ obayd; So him away he drew xxv
From needlesse trouble of renewing fight
Already fought, his voyage to pursew.
But rash _Pyrochles_ varlet, _Atin_ hight,
When late he saw his Lord in heauy plight,
Vnder Sir _Guyons_ puissaunt stroke to fall,
Him deeming dead, as then he seemd in sight,
Fled fast away, to tell his funerall
Vnto his brother, whom _Cymochles_ men did call.

He was a man of rare redoubted might, xxvi
Famous throughout the world for warlike prayse,
And glorious spoiles, purchast in perilous fight:
Full many doughtie knights he in his dayes
Had doen to death, subdewde in equall frayes,
Whose carkases, for terrour of his name,
Of fowles and beastes he made the piteous prayes,
And hong their conquered armes for more defame
On gallow trees, in honour of his dearest Dame.

His dearest Dame is that Enchaunteresse, xxvii
The vile _Acrasia_, that with vaine delightes,
And idle pleasures in her[603] _Bowre_ of _Blisse_,
Does charme her louers, and the feeble sprightes
Can call out of the bodies of fraile wightes:
Whom then she does transforme[604] to monstrous hewes,
And horribly misshapes with vgly sightes,
Captiu’d eternally in yron mewes,
And darksom dens, where _Titan_ his face neuer shewes.

There _Atin_ found _Cymochles_ soiourning, xxviii
To serue his Lemans loue: for he,[605] by kind,
Was giuen all to lust and loose liuing,
When euer his fiers hands he free mote find:
And now he has pourd out his idle mind
In daintie delices, and lauish ioyes,
Hauing his warlike weapons cast behind,
And flowes in pleasures, and vaine pleasing toyes,
Mingled emongst loose Ladies and lasciuious boyes.

And ouer him, art striuing to compaire xxix
With nature, did an Arber greene dispred,
Framed of wanton Yuie, flouring faire,
Through which the fragrant Eglantine did spred
His pricking[606] armes, entrayld with roses red,
Which daintie odours round about them threw,
And all within with flowres was garnished,
That when myld _Zephyrus_ emongst them blew,
Did breath out bounteous smels, and painted colors shew.

And fast beside, there trickled softly downe xxx
A gentle streame, whose murmuring waue did play
Emongst the pumy stones, and made a sowne,
To lull him soft a sleepe, that by it lay;
The wearie Traueiler, wandring that way,
Therein did often quench his thristy heat,
And then by it his wearie limbes display,
Whiles creeping slomber made him to forget
His former paine, and wypt away his toylsom sweat.

And on the other side a pleasaunt groue xxxi
Was shot vp high, full of the stately tree,
That dedicated is t’_Olympicke Ioue_,
And to his sonne _Alcides_, whenas hee
Gaynd in _Nemea_[607] goodly victoree;
Therein the mery birds of euery sort
Chaunted alowd their chearefull harmonie:
And made emongst them selues a sweet consort,
That quickned the dull spright with musicall comfort.

There he him found all carelesly displayd, xxxii
In secret shadow from the sunny ray,
On a sweet bed of lillies softly layd,
Amidst a flocke of Damzels fresh and gay,
That round about him dissolute did play
Their wanton follies, and light meriment;
Euery of which did loosely disaray
Her vpper parts of meet habiliments,
And shewd them naked, deckt with many ornaments.

And euery of them stroue, with most delights, xxxiii
Him to aggrate, and greatest pleasures shew;
Some framd faire lookes, glancing like euening lights,[608]
Others sweet words, dropping like honny dew;
Some bathed kisses, and did soft embrew
The sugred licour through his melting lips:
One boastes her beautie, and does yeeld to vew
Her daintie limbes aboue her tender hips;
Another her out boastes, and all for tryall strips.

He, like an Adder, lurking in the weeds, xxxiv
His wandring thought in deepe desire does steepe,
And his fraile eye with spoyle of beautie feedes;
Sometimes he falsely faines himselfe to sleepe,
Whiles through their lids his wanton eies do peepe,
To steale a snatch of amorous conceipt[609],
Whereby close fire into his heart does creepe:
So, them[610] deceiues, deceiu’d in his deceipt,
Made drunke with drugs of deare voluptuous receipt.

_Atin_ arriuing there, when him he spide, xxxv
Thus in still waues of deepe delight to wade,
Fiercely approching, to him lowdly cride,
_Cymochles_; oh no, but _Cymochles_ shade,
In which that manly person late did fade,
What is become of great _Acrates_ sonne?
Or where hath he hong vp his mortall blade,
That hath so many haughtie conquests wonne?
Is all his force forlorne, and all his glory donne?

Then pricking him with his sharpe-pointed dart, xxxvi
He said; Vp,[611] vp, thou womanish weake knight,
That here in Ladies lap entombed art,
Vnmindfull of thy praise and prowest might,
And weetlesse eke of lately wrought despight,
Whiles sad _Pyrochles_ lies on senselesse ground,
And groneth out his vtmost grudging spright,
Through many a stroke, and many a streaming wound,
Calling thy helpe in vaine, that here in ioyes art dround.

Suddeinly out of his delightfull dreame xxxvii
The man awoke, and would haue questiond more;
But he would not endure that wofull theame
For to dilate at large, but vrged sore
With percing words, and pittifull implore,
Him hastie to arise. As one affright
With hellish feends, or _Furies_ mad vprore,
He then vprose, inflam’d with fell despight,
And called for his armes; for he would algates fight.

They bene ybrought; he quickly does him dight, xxxviii
And lightly mounted, passeth on his way,
Ne Ladies loues, ne sweete entreaties might
Appease his heat, or hastie passage stay;
For he has vowd, to beene aueng’d that day,
(That day it selfe him seemed all too long:)
On him, that did _Pyrochles_ deare dismay:
So proudly pricketh on his courser strong,
And _Atin_ aie him pricks with spurs of shame and wrong.

FOOTNOTES:

[580] Arg. 2 _vnbinds_:] _vnbinds_ 1596: _vntyes_, _1590_

[581] 3, 4 _as in 1596_ (_except_ _Attin Gymochles_ _1596_): _Who him sore wounds, whiles Atin to Gymochles for ayd flyes._ _1590_

[582] iii 2 chaffer _1609_

[583] iv 5 sell _1590_, _1596_

[584] v 9 doe me not much fayl _1590_

[585] viii 7 hurtle] hurle, _1596_: hurlen _1609_

[586] warlike] warelike _1596_

[587] x 7 enimye _1590_: enimies _1596_

[588] 8 relast _1596_

[589] xii 8 by] but _conj. ed._

[590] xv 3 atchieu’d _1590 &c._

[591] 9 who selfe] whose selfe _1609_

[592] xvi 8 a read, _1596_

[593] xvii 8 occasion _1590_: Occasion _1596_

[594] xviii 5 embayling _1590_: _corr. F. E._

[595] xix 4 shee] hee _1590_, _1596_

[596] 7 do] garre _1590_

[597] xxi 7 occasion _1609_

[598] xxii 5 spight] spright _1609_

[599] 6 fyer _1590_: fier _1609_

[600] 7 bright _1590_, _1596_

[601] xxiii 1 _that_] _the_ 1609

[602] xxiv 8 agayne. _1596_

[603] xxvii 3 her] his _1596_

[604] 6 trasforme _1590_

[605] xxviii 2 he,] he _1590_, _1596_

[606] xxix 5 pricking] prickling _1590_

[607] xxxi 5 Gaynd in _Nemea_] In _Netmus_ gayned _1590_: _Nemus_ _F. E._

[608] xxxiii 3 lights _1596_

[609] xxxiv 6 conceit _1609_

[610] 8 So, he them _1590_, _1596_

[611] xxxvi 2 Vp,] vp, _1590_, _1596_

_Cant. VI._

_Guyon is of immodest Merth[612]
led into loose desire,
Fights with Cymochles, whiles his brother
burnes in furious fire._
]

A Harder lesson, to learne Continence i
In ioyous pleasure, then in grieuous paine:
For sweetnesse doth allure the weaker sence
So strongly, that vneathes it can refraine
From that, which feeble nature couets faine;
But griefe and wrath, that be her enemies,
And foes of life, she better can restraine[613];
Yet vertue vauntes in both their[614] victories,
And _Guyon_ in them all shewes goodly maisteries.

Whom bold _Cymochles_ trauelling to find, ii
With cruell purpose bent to wreake on him
The wrath, which _Atin_ kindled in his mind,
Came to a riuer, by whose vtmost brim
Wayting to passe, he saw whereas did swim
A long the shore, as swift as glaunce of eye,
A litle Gondelay, bedecked trim
With boughes and arbours wouen cunningly,
That like a litle forrest seemed outwardly.

And therein sate a Ladie fresh and faire, iii
Making sweet solace to her selfe alone;
Sometimes she sung, as loud as larke in aire,
Sometimes she laught, that nigh her breth was gone,[615]
Yet was there not with her else any one,
That might to her[616] moue cause of meriment:
Matter of merth enough, though there were none,[617]
She could deuise, and thousand waies inuent,
To feede her foolish humour, and vaine iolliment.

Which when farre off _Cymochles_ heard, and saw, iv
He loudly cald to such, as were a bord,
The little barke vnto the shore to draw,
And him to ferrie ouer that deepe ford:
The merry marriner vnto his word
Soone hearkned, and her painted bote streightway
Turnd to the shore, where that same warlike Lord
She in receiu’d; but _Atin_ by no way
She would admit, albe the knight her much did pray.

Eftsoones her shallow ship away did slide, v
More swift, then swallow sheres the liquid skie,
Withouten oare or Pilot it to guide,
Or winged canuas with the wind to flie,
Only she turn’d a pin, and by and by
It cut away vpon the yielding waue,
Ne cared she her course for to apply:
For it was taught the way, which she would haue,
And both from rocks and flats it selfe could wisely saue.

And all the way, the wanton Damzell found vi
New merth, her passenger to entertaine:
For she in pleasant purpose did abound,
And greatly ioyed merry tales to faine,
Of which a store-house did with her remaine,
Yet seemed, nothing well they her became;
For all her words she drownd with laughter vaine,
And wanted grace in vtt’ring of the same,
That turned all her pleasance to a scoffing game.

And other whiles vaine toyes she would deuize vii
As her fantasticke wit did most delight,
Sometimes her head she fondly would aguize
With gaudie girlonds, or fresh flowrets dight
About her necke, or rings of rushes plight;
Sometimes to doe him laugh, she would assay
To laugh at shaking of[618] the leaues light,
Or to behold the water worke, and play
About her litle frigot, therein making way.

Her light behauiour, and loose dalliaunce viii
Gaue wondrous great contentment to the knight,
That of his way he had no souenaunce,
Nor care of vow’d reuenge, and cruell fight,
But to weake wench did yeeld his martiall might.
So easie was to quench his flamed mind
With one sweet drop of sensuall delight,[619]
So easie is, t’appease the stormie wind
Of malice in the calme of pleasant womankind.

Diuerse discourses in their way they spent, ix
Mongst which _Cymochles_ of her questioned,
Both what she was, and what that vsage ment,
Which in her cot she daily practised.
Vaine man (said she) that wouldest be reckoned
A straunger in thy home, and ignoraunt
Of _Phædria_ (for so my name is red)
Of _Phædria_, thine owne fellow seruaunt;
For thou to serue _Acrasia_ thy selfe doest vaunt.

In this wide Inland sea, that hight by name x
The _Idle lake_, my wandring ship I row,
That knowes her port, and thither sailes by ayme,
Ne care, ne feare I, how the wind do blow,
Or whether swift I wend, or whether slow:
Both slow and swift a like do serue my tourne,
Ne swelling _Neptune_, ne loud thundring _Ioue_
Can chaunge my cheare, or make me euer mourne;
My litle boat can safely passe this perilous bourne.

Whiles thus she talked, and whiles thus she toyd, xi
They were farre past the passage, which he spake,
And come vnto an Island, waste and voyd,
That floted in the midst of that great lake,
There her small Gondelay her port did make,
And that gay paire issuing on the shore
Disburdned her. Their way they forward take
Into the land, that lay them faire before,
Whose pleasaunce she him shew’d, and plentifull great store.

It was a chosen plot of fertile land, xii
Emongst wide waues set, like a litle nest,
As if it had by Natures cunning hand[620]
Bene choisely picked out from all the rest,
And laid forth for ensample of the best:
No daintie flowre or herbe, that growes on ground,
No arboret with painted blossomes drest,
And smelling sweet, but there it might be found
To bud out faire, and her sweet smels throw[621] all around.

No tree, whose braunches did not brauely spring; xiii
No braunch, whereon a fine bird did not sit:
No bird, but did her shrill notes sweetly sing;
No song but did containe a louely dit:
Trees, braunches, birds, and songs were framed fit,
For to allure fraile mind to carelesse ease.
Carelesse the man soone woxe, and his weake wit
Was ouercome of thing, that did him please;
So pleased, did his wrathfull purpose faire appease.

Thus when she had his eyes and senses fed xiv
With false delights, and fild with pleasures vaine,
Into a shadie dale she soft him led,
And laid him downe vpon a grassie plaine;
And her sweet selfe without dread, or disdaine,
She set beside, laying his head disarm’d
In her loose lap, it softly to sustaine,
Where soone he slumbred, fearing not be harm’d,
The whiles with a loud[622] lay she thus him sweetly charm’d.

Behold, O man, that toilesome paines doest take,[623] xv
The flowres, the fields, and all that pleasant growes,
How they themselues doe thine ensample make,
Whiles nothing enuious nature them forth throwes
Out of her fruitfull lap; how, no man[624] knowes,
They spring, they bud, they blossome fresh and faire,
And deck the world with their rich pompous showes;
Yet no man for them taketh paines or care,
Yet no man to them can his carefull paines compare.

The lilly, Ladie of the flowring field, xvi
The Flowre-deluce, her louely Paramoure,
Bid thee to them thy fruitlesse labours yield,
And soone leaue off this toylesome wearie stoure;
Loe loe how braue she decks her bounteous boure,
With silken curtens and gold couerlets,
Therein to shrowd her sumptuous Belamoure,
Yet neither spinnes nor cardes, ne cares nor frets,
But to her mother Nature all her care she lets.

Why then dost thou, O man, that of them all xvii
Art Lord, and eke of nature Soueraine,
Wilfully make thy selfe a wretched thrall,
And wast thy ioyous houres in needlesse paine,
Seeking for daunger and aduentures vaine?
What bootes it all to haue, and nothing vse?
Who shall him rew, that swimming in the maine,
Will die for thirst[625], and water doth refuse?
Refuse such fruitlesse toile, and present pleasures chuse.

By this she had him lulled fast a sleepe, xviii
That of no worldly[626] thing he care did take;
Then she with liquors strong his eyes did steepe,
That nothing should him hastily awake:
So she him left, and did her selfe betake
Vnto her boat againe, with which she cleft
The slouthfull waue[627] of that great griesly[628] lake;
Soone she that Island farre behind her left,
And now is come to that same place, where first she weft.

By this time was the worthy _Guyon_ brought xix
Vnto the other side of that wide strond,
Where she was rowing, and for passage sought:
Him needed not long call, she soone to hond
Her ferry brought, where him she byding fond,
With his sad guide; himselfe she tooke a boord,
But the _Blacke Palmer_ suffred still to stond,
Ne would for price, or prayers once affoord,
To ferry that old man ouer the perlous foord.

_Guyon_ was loath to leaue his guide behind, xx
Yet being entred, might not backe retyre;
For the flit barke, obaying to her mind,
Forth launched quickly, as she did desire,
Ne gaue him leaue to bid that aged sire
Adieu, but nimbly ran her wonted course
Through the dull billowes thicke as troubled mire,
Whom neither wind out of their seat could forse,
Nor timely tides did driue out of their sluggish sourse.

And by the way, as was her wonted guize, xxi
Her merry fit she freshly gan to reare,
And did of ioy and iollitie deuize,
Her selfe to cherish, and her guest to cheare:
The knight was courteous, and did not forbeare
Her honest merth and pleasaunce to partake;
But when he saw her toy, and gibe, and geare,
And passe the bonds[629] of modest merimake,
Her dalliance he despisd, and follies did forsake.

Yet she still followed her former stile, xxii
And said, and did all that mote him delight,
Till they arriued in that pleasant Ile,
Where sleeping late she left her other knight.
But when as _Guyon_ of that land had sight,
He wist himselfe amisse, and angry said;
Ah Dame, perdie ye haue not doen me right,
Thus to mislead me, whiles I you obaid:
Me litle needed from my right way to haue straid.

Faire Sir (quoth she) be not displeasd at all; xxiii
Who fares on sea, may not commaund his way,
Ne wind and weather at his pleasure call:
The sea is wide, and easie for to stray;
The wind vnstable, and doth neuer stay.
But here a while ye may in safety rest,
Till season serue new passage to assay;
Better safe port, then be in seas distrest.
Therewith she laught, and did her earnest end in iest.

But he halfe discontent, mote nathelesse xxiv
Himselfe appease, and issewd forth on shore:
The ioyes whereof, and happie fruitfulnesse,
Such as he saw,[630] she gan him lay before,
And all though pleasant, yet she made much more:
The fields did laugh, the flowres did freshly spring,
The trees did bud, and earely blossomes bore,
And all the quire of birds did sweetly sing,
And told that gardins pleasures in their caroling.

And she more sweet, then any bird on bough, xxv
Would oftentimes emongst them beare a part,
And striue to passe (as she could well enough)
Their natiue musicke by her skilfull art:
So did she all, that might his constant hart
Withdraw from thought of warlike enterprize,
And drowne in dissolute delights apart,
Where noyse of armes, or vew of martiall guize
Might not reuiue desire of knightly exercize.

But he was wise, and warie of her will, xxvi
And euer held his hand vpon his hart:
Yet would not seeme so rude, and thewed ill,
As to despise so courteous seeming part,
That gentle Ladie did to him impart,
But fairely tempring fond desire subdewd,
And euer her desired to depart.
She list not heare, but her disports poursewd,
And euer bad him stay, till time the tide renewd.

And now by this, _Cymochles_ howre was spent, xxvii
That he awoke out of his idle dreme,
And shaking off his drowzie dreriment,
Gan him auize, how ill did him beseeme,
In slouthfull sleepe his molten hart to steme,
And quench the brond of his conceiued ire.
Tho vp he started, stird with shame extreme,
Ne staied for his Damzell to inquire,
But marched to the strond, there[631] passage to require.

And in the way he with Sir _Guyon_ met, xxviii
Accompanyde with _Phædria_ the faire,
Eftsoones he gan to rage, and inly fret,
Crying, Let be that Ladie debonaire,
Thou recreant knight, and soone thy selfe prepaire
To battell, if thou meane her loue to gaine:
Loe, loe alreadie, how the fowles in aire
Doe flocke, awaiting shortly to obtaine
Thy carcasse for their pray, the guerdon of thy paine.

And therewithall he fiercely at him flew, xxix
And with importune[632] outrage him assayld;
Who soone prepard to field, his sword forth drew,
And him with equall value counteruayld:
Their mightie strokes their haberieons dismayld,
And naked made each others manly spalles;
The mortall steele despiteously entayld
Deepe in their flesh, quite through the yron walles,
That a large purple streme adown their giambeux falles.

_Cymochles_, that had neuer met before[633] xxx
So puissant foe, with enuious despight
His proud presumed force increased more,
Disdeigning to be held so long in fight;
Sir _Guyon_ grudging not so much his might,
As those vnknightly raylings, which he spoke,
With wrathfull fire his courage kindled bright,
Thereof deuising shortly to be wroke,
And doubling all his powres, redoubled euery stroke.

Both of them high attonce their hands enhaunst, xxxi
And both attonce their huge blowes downe did sway;
_Cymochles_ sword on _Guyons_ shield yglaunst,
And thereof nigh one quarter sheard away;
But _Guyons_ angry blade so fierce did play
On th’others helmet, which as _Titan_ shone,
That quite it cloue his plumed crest in tway,
And bared all his head vnto the bone;
Wherewith astonisht, still he stood, as senselesse stone.

Still as he stood, faire _Phædria_, that beheld xxxii
That deadly daunger, soone atweene them ran;
And at their feet her selfe most humbly feld,
Crying with pitteous voice, and count’nance wan;
Ah well away, most noble Lords, how can
Your cruell eyes endure so pitteous sight,
To shed your liues on ground? wo worth the man,
That first did teach the cursed steele to bight
In his owne flesh, and make way to the liuing spright.

If euer loue of Ladie did empierce xxxiii
Your yron brestes, or pittie could find place,
Withhold your bloudie hands from battell fierce,
And sith for me ye fight, to me this grace
Both yeeld, to stay your deadly strife a space.
They stayd a while: and forth she gan proceed:
Most wretched woman, and of wicked race,
That am the author of this hainous deed,
And cause of death betweene two doughtie knights doe breed.

But if for me ye fight, or me will serue, xxxiv
Not this rude kind of battell, nor these armes
Are meet, the which doe men in bale to sterue,
And dolefull sorrow heape with deadly harmes:
Such cruell game my scarmoges disarmes:
Another warre, and other weapons I
Doe loue, where loue does giue his sweet alarmes,
Without bloudshed, and where the enemy
Does yeeld vnto his foe a pleasant victory.

Debatefull strife, and cruell enmitie xxxv
The famous name of knighthood fowly shend[634];
But louely peace, and gentle amitie,
And in Amours the passing houres to spend,
The mightie martiall hands doe most commend;
Of loue they euer greater glory bore,
Then of their armes: _Mars_ is _Cupidoes_ frend,
And is for _Venus_ loues renowmed more,
Then all his wars and spoiles, the which he did of yore.

Therewith she sweetly smyld. They though full bent[635] xxxvi
To proue extremities of bloudie fight,
Yet at her speach their rages gan relent,
And calme the sea of their tempestuous spight,
Such powre haue pleasing words: such is the might
Of courteous clemencie in gentle hart.
Now after all was ceast, the Faery knight
Besought that Damzell suffer him depart,
And yield him readie passage to that other part.

She no lesse glad, then he desirous was xxxvii
Of his departure thence; for of her ioy
And vaine delight she saw he light did pas,
A foe of folly and immodest toy,
Still solemne sad, or still disdainfull coy,
Delighting all in armes and cruell warre,
That her sweet peace and pleasures did annoy,
Troubled with terrour and vnquiet iarre,
That she well pleased was thence to amoue him farre.

Tho him she brought abord, and her swift bote xxxviii
Forthwith directed to that further strand;
The which on the dull waues did lightly flote
And soone arriued on the shallow sand,
Where gladsome _Guyon_ salied[636] forth to land,
And to that Damzell thankes gaue for reward.
Vpon that shore he spied _Atin_ stand,
There by[637] his maister left, when late he far’d
In _Phædrias_ flit[638] barke ouer that perlous shard.

Well could he him remember, sith of late xxxix
He with _Pyrochles_ sharp debatement made;
Streight gan he him reuile, and bitter rate,
As shepheards curre, that in darke euenings shade
Hath tracted forth some saluage beastes[639] trade;
Vile Miscreant (said he) whither doest thou flie
The shame and death, which will thee soone inuade?
What coward hand shall doe thee next to die,
That art thus foully fled from famous enemie?

With that he stiffely shooke his steelehead dart: xl
But sober _Guyon_, hearing him so raile,
Though somewhat moued in his mightie hart,
Yet with strong reason maistred passion fraile,
And passed fairely forth. He turning taile,
Backe to the strond retyrd, and there still stayd,
Awaiting passage, which him late did faile;
The whiles _Cymochles_ with that wanton mayd
The hastie heat of his auowd reuenge delayd.

Whylest[640] there the varlet stood, he saw from farre xli
An armed knight, that towards him fast ran,
He ran on foot, as if in lucklesse warre
His forlorne steed from him the victour wan;
He seemed breathlesse, hartlesse, faint, and wan,
And all his armour sprinckled was with bloud,
And soyld with durtie gore, that no man can
Discerne the hew thereof. He neuer stood,
But bent his hastie course towards the idle flood.

The varlet saw, when to the flood he came, xlii
How without stop or stay he fiercely lept,
And deepe him selfe beducked[641] in the same,
That in the lake his loftie crest was steept,
Ne of his safetie seemed care he kept,
But with his raging armes he rudely flasht[642]
The waues about, and all his armour swept,
That all the bloud and filth away was washt,
Yet still he bet the water, and the billowes dasht.

_Atin_ drew nigh, to weet what it mote bee; xliii
For much he wondred at that vncouth sight;
Whom should he, but his owne deare Lord, there see,
His owne deare Lord _Pyrochles_, in sad plight,
Readie to drowne himselfe for fell despight.
Harrow now out, and well away, he cryde,
What dismall day hath lent this cursed light,[643]
To see my Lord so deadly damnifyde?[644]
_Pyrochles_, O _Pyrochles_, what is thee betyde?

I burne, I burne, I burne, then loud he cryde, xliv
O how I burne with implacable fire,
Yet nought can quench mine inly flaming syde,
Nor sea of licour cold, nor lake of mire,
Nothing but death can doe me to respire.
Ah be it (said he) from _Pyrochles_ farre
After pursewing death once to require,
Or think, that ought those puissant hands may marre:
Death is for wretches borne vnder vnhappie starre.

Perdie, then is it[645] fit for me (said he) xlv
That am, I weene, most wretched man aliue,
Burning[646] in flames, yet no flames can I see,
And dying daily, daily yet reuiue:
O _Atin_, helpe to me last death to giue.
The varlet at his plaint was grieued so sore,
That his deepe wounded hart in two did riue,
And his owne health remembring now no more,
Did follow that ensample, which he blam’d afore.

Into the lake he lept, his Lord to ayd, xlvi
(So Loue the dread of daunger doth despise)
And of him catching hold him strongly stayd
From drowning. But more happie he, then wise
Of that seas nature did him not auise.
The waues thereof so slow and sluggish were,
Engrost with mud, which did them foule agrise,
That euery weightie thing they did vpbeare,
Ne ought mote euer sinke downe to the bottome there.

Whiles thus they strugled in that idle waue, xlvii
And stroue in vaine, the one himselfe to drowne,
The other both from drowning for to saue,
Lo, to that shore one in an auncient gowne,
Whose hoarie locks great grauitie did crowne,
Holding in hand a goodly arming sword,
By fortune came, led with the troublous sowne:
Where drenched deepe he found in that dull ford
The carefull seruant, striuing with his raging Lord.

Him _Atin_ spying, knew right well of yore, xlviii
And loudly cald, Helpe helpe, O _Archimage_;
To saue my Lord, in wretched plight forlore;
Helpe with thy hand, or with thy counsell sage:
Weake hands, but counsell is most strong in age.
Him when the old man saw,[647] he wondred sore,
To see _Pyrochles_ there so rudely rage:
Yet sithens helpe, he saw, he needed more
Then pittie, he in hast approched to the shore.

And cald, _Pyrochles_, what is this, I see? xlix
What hellish furie hath at earst thee hent?
Furious euer I thee knew to bee,
Yet neuer in this straunge astonishment.
These flames, these flames (he cryde) do me torment.
What flames (quoth he) when I thee present see,
In daunger rather to be drent, then brent?
Harrow, the flames, which me consume (said hee)
Ne can be quencht, within my secret bowels bee.

That cursed man, that cruell feend of hell, l
_Furor_, oh _Furor_ hath me thus bedight:
His deadly wounds within my liuers[648] swell,
And his whot fire burnes in mine entrails bright,
Kindled through his infernall brond of spight,
Sith late with him I batteil vaine would boste;
That now I weene _Ioues_ dreaded thunder light
Does scorch not halfe so sore, nor damned ghoste
In flaming _Phlegeton_ does not so felly roste.

Which when as _Archimago_ heard, his griefe li
He knew right well, and him attonce disarmd:
Then searcht his secret wounds, and made a priefe
Of euery place, that was with brusing harmd,
Or with the hidden fire too[649] inly warmd.
Which done, he balmes and herbes thereto applyde,
And euermore[650] with mighty spels them charmd,
That in short space he has them qualifyde,
And him restor’d to health, that would haue algates dyde.

FOOTNOTES:

[612] Arg. 1 _Merth_, _1590_, _1596_

[613] i 7 restraine] abstaine _1590_

[614] 8 their] her _1590_

[615] iii 4 that nigh her breth was gone,] as merry as Pope Ione, _1590_

[616] 6 might to her] to her might _1590_

[617] 7 none _1590 &c._

[618] vii 7 of] off _1590_

[619] viii 7 delight. _1590_

[620] xii 3 hand, _1590 &c._

[621] 9 her sweet smels throw] throwe her sweete smels _1590_

[622] xiv 9 loud] loue _1590_

[623] xv 1 take _1590_, _1596_

[624] 5 no man] noman _1590_

[625] xvii 8 thirst] thrist _1590_

[626] xviii 2 worldly] wordly _1590_

[627] 7 waue] waues _1609_

[628] griesly] griesy _1590_

[629] xxi 8 bounds _1609_

[630] xxiv 4 saw _1596_, _1609_

[631] xxvii 9 there] their _1590_, _1596_

[632] xxix 2 importune] importance _1596_: important _1609_

[633] xxx 1 before, _1590_, _1596_

[634] xxxv 2 shend] shent _1596_

[635] xxxvi 1 bent, _1590_, _1596_

[636] xxxviii 5 salied] sailed _1609_

[637] 8 Thereby _1590_, _1596_

[638] 9 flit] fleet _1609_

[639] xxxix 5 beastez _1609_

[640] xli 1 Whiles _1609_

[641] xlii 3 beduked _1596_

[642] 6 flasht, _1590 &c._

[643] xliii 7 lent but this his cursed light, _1590_

[644] 8 damnifyde _1590_, _1596_

[645] xlv 1 is it] it is _1609_

[646] 3 Burning] But _1596_

[647] xlviii 6 man, saw _1590_: _corr. F. E._

[648] l 3 liuer _1609_

[649] li 5 fire too] fier _1590_

[650] 7 euemore _1596_

_Cant. VII._

_Guyon findes Mammon[651] in a delue,
Sunning his threasure hore:
Is by him tempted, and led downe,
To see his secret store._
]

As Pilot well expert in perilous waue, i
That to a stedfast starre his course hath bent,
When foggy mistes, or cloudy tempests haue
The faithfull light of that faire lampe yblent,
And couer’d heauen with hideous dreriment,
Vpon his card and compas firmes his eye,
The maisters of his long experiment,
And to them does the steddy helme apply,
Bidding his winged vessell fairely forward fly:[652]

So _Guyon_ hauing lost his trusty guide, ii
Late left beyond that _Ydle lake_, proceedes
Yet on his way, of none accompanide;
And euermore himselfe with comfort feedes,
Of his owne vertues, and prayse-worthy deedes.
So long he yode, yet no aduenture found,
Which fame of her shrill trompet worthy reedes:
For still he traueild through wide wastfull ground,
That nought but desert wildernesse shew’d all around.

At last he came vnto a gloomy glade, iii
Couer’d with boughes and shrubs from heauens light,
Whereas he sitting found in secret shade
An vncouth, saluage, and vnciuile wight,
Of griesly hew, and fowle ill fauour’d sight;
His face with smoke was tand, and eyes were bleard,
His head and beard with sout were ill bedight,
His cole-blacke hands did seeme to haue beene seard
In smithes fire-spitting[653] forge, and nayles like clawes appeard.

His yron coate all ouergrowne with rust, iv
Was vnderneath enueloped with gold,
Whose glistring glosse darkned with filthy dust,
Well yet[654] appeared, to haue beene of old
A worke of rich entayle, and curious mould,
Wouen with antickes and wild Imagery:
And in his lap a masse of coyne he told,
And turned vpsidowne[655], to feede his eye
And[656] couetous desire with his huge threasury.

And round about him lay on euery side v
Great heapes of gold, that neuer could be spent:
Of which some were rude owre, not purifide
Of _Mulcibers_[657] deuouring element;
Some others were new driuen, and distent
Into great Ingoes, and to wedges square;
Some in round plates withouten moniment;
But most were stampt, and in their metall bare
The antique shapes of kings and kesars straunge and rare.

Soone as he _Guyon_ saw, in great affright vi
And hast he rose, for to remoue aside
Those pretious hils from straungers enuious sight,
And downe them poured through an hole full wide,
Into the hollow earth, them there to hide.
But _Guyon_ lightly to him leaping, stayd
His hand, that trembled, as one terrifyde;
And though him selfe were at the sight dismayd,
Yet him perforce restraynd, and to him doubtfull sayd.

What art thou man, (if man at all thou art) vii
That here in desert hast thine habitaunce,
And these rich heapes[658] of wealth doest hide apart
From the worldes eye, and from her right vsaunce?
Thereat with staring eyes fixed askaunce,
In great disdaine, he answerd; Hardy Elfe,
That darest vew my direfull countenaunce,
I read thee rash, and heedlesse of thy selfe,
To trouble my still seate, and heapes of pretious pelfe.

God of the world and worldlings I me call, viii
Great _Mammon_, greatest god below the skye,
That of my plenty poure out vnto all,
And vnto none my graces do enuye:
Riches, renowme, and principality,
Honour, estate, and all this worldes good,
For which men swinck and sweat incessantly,
Fro me do flow into an ample flood,
And in the hollow earth haue their eternall brood.

Wherefore if me thou deigne to serue and sew, ix
At thy commaund lo all these mountaines bee;
Or if to thy great mind, or greedy vew
All these may not suffise, there shall to thee
Ten times so much be numbred francke and free.
_Mammon_ (said he) thy godheades vaunt is vaine,
And idle offers of thy golden fee;
To them, that couet such eye-glutting gaine,
Proffer thy giftes, and fitter seruaunts entertaine.

Me ill besits[659], that in der-doing armes, x
And honours suit my vowed dayes do spend,
Vnto thy bounteous baytes, and pleasing charmes,
With which weake men thou witchest, to attend:
Regard of worldly mucke doth fowly blend,
And low abase the high heroicke spright,
That ioyes for crownes and kingdomes to contend;
Faire shields, gay steedes, bright armes be my delight:
Those be the riches fit for an aduent’rous knight.

Vaine glorious Elfe (said he) doest not thou weet, xi
That money can thy wantes at will supply?
Sheilds, steeds, and armes, and all things for thee meet
It can puruay in twinckling of an eye;
And crownes and kingdomes to thee multiply.
Do not I kings create, and throw the crowne
Sometimes to him, that low in dust doth ly?
And him that raignd, into his rowme thrust downe,
And whom I lust, do heape with glory and renowne?

All otherwise (said he) I riches read, xii
And deeme them roote of all disquietnesse;
First got with guile, and then preseru’d with dread,
And after spent with pride and lauishnesse,
Leauing behind them griefe and heauinesse.
Infinite mischiefes of them do arize,
Strife,[660] and debate, bloudshed, and bitternesse,
Outrageous wrong, and hellish couetize,
That noble heart as[661] great dishonour doth despize.