Chapter XI: Appendix: Stanzas Omitted in the Second Edition (1596) 517 (9)

Ne thine be kingdomes, ne the scepters thine; xiii
But realmes and rulers thou doest both confound,
And loyall truth to treason doest incline;
Witnesse the guiltlesse bloud pourd oft on ground,
The crowned often slaine, the slayer cround,
The sacred Diademe in peeces rent,
And purple robe gored with many a wound;
Castles surprizd, great cities sackt and brent:
So mak’st thou kings, and gaynest wrongfull gouernement.

Long were to tell the troublous stormes, that tosse xiv
The priuate state, and make the life vnsweet:
Who swelling sayles in Caspian sea doth crosse,
And in frayle wood on _Adrian_ gulfe doth fleet,
Doth not, I weene, so many euils meet.
Then _Mammon_ wexing wroth, And why then, said,
Are mortall men so fond and vndiscreet,
So euill thing to seeke vnto their ayd,
And hauing not complaine, and hauing it vpbraid?

Indeede (quoth he) through fowle intemperaunce, xv
Frayle men are oft captiu’d to couetise:
But would they thinke, with how small allowaunce
Vntroubled Nature doth her selfe suffise,
Such superfluities they would despise,
Which with sad cares empeach our natiue ioyes:
At the well head the purest streames arise:
But mucky filth his braunching armes annoyes,
And with vncomely weedes the gentle waue accloyes.

The antique world, in his first flowring youth, xvi
Found no defect in his Creatours grace,
But with glad thankes, and vnreproued truth,
The gifts of soueraigne bountie did embrace:
Like Angels life was then mens happy cace;
But later ages pride, like corn-fed steed,
Abusd her plenty, and fat swolne encreace
To all licentious lust, and gan exceed
The measure of her meane, and naturall first need.

Then gan a cursed hand the quiet wombe xvii
Of his great Grandmother with steele to wound,
And the hid treasures in her sacred tombe,
With Sacriledge to dig. Therein he found
Fountaines of gold and siluer to abound,
Of which the matter of his huge desire
And pompous pride eftsoones he did compound;
Then auarice gan through his veines inspire
His greedy flames, and kindled life-deuouring fire.

Sonne (said he then) let be thy bitter scorne, xviii
And leaue the rudenesse of that[662] antique age
To them, that liu’d therein in state forlorne;
Thou that doest liue in later times, must wage
Thy workes for wealth, and life for gold engage.
If then thee list my offred grace to vse,
Take what thou please of all this surplusage;
If thee list not, leaue haue thou to refuse:
But thing refused, do not afterward accuse.

Me list not (said the Elfin knight) receaue xix
Thing offred, till I know it well be got,
Ne wote I, but thou didst these goods bereaue
From rightfull owner by vnrighteous lot,
Or that bloud guiltinesse[663] or guile them blot.
Perdy (quoth he) yet neuer eye did vew,
Ne toung did tell, ne hand these handled not,
But safe I haue them kept in secret mew,
From heauens sight, and powre of all which them pursew.

What secret place (quoth he) can safely hold xx
So huge a masse, and hide from heauens eye?
Or where hast thou thy wonne, that so much gold
Thou canst preserue from wrong and robbery?
Come thou (quoth he) and see. So by and by
Through that thicke couert he him led, and found
A darkesome way, which no man could descry,
That deepe descended through the hollow ground,
And was with dread and horrour compassed around.

At length they came into a larger space, xxi
That stretcht it selfe into an ample plaine,
Through which a beaten broad high way did trace,
That streight did lead to _Plutoes_ griesly raine:
By that wayes side, there sate infernall[664] Payne,
And fast beside him sat tumultuous Strife:
The one in hand an yron whip did straine,
The other brandished a bloudy knife,
And both did gnash their teeth, and both did threaten life.

On thother side in one consort there sate, xxii
Cruell Reuenge, and rancorous Despight,
Disloyall Treason, and hart-burning Hate,
But gnawing Gealosie out of their sight
Sitting alone, his bitter lips did bight,
And trembling Feare still to and fro did fly,
And found no place, where safe he shroud him might,
Lamenting Sorrow did in darknesse lye,
And Shame his vgly face did hide from liuing eye.

And ouer them sad Horrour[665] with grim hew, xxiii
Did alwayes sore, beating his yron wings;
And after him Owles and Night-rauens flew,
The hatefull messengers of heauy things,
Of death and dolour telling sad tidings;
Whiles sad _Celeno_, sitting on a clift,
A song of bale and bitter sorrow sings,
That hart of flint a sunder could haue rift:
Which hauing ended, after him she flyeth swift.

All these before the gates of _Pluto_ lay, xxiv
By whom they passing, spake vnto them nought.
But th’Elfin knight with wonder all the way
Did feed his eyes, and fild his inner thought.
At last him to a litle dore he brought,
That to the gate of Hell, which gaped wide,
Was next adioyning, ne them parted ought[666]:
Betwixt them both was but a litle stride,
That did the house of Richesse from hell-mouth diuide.

Before the dore sat selfe-consuming Care, xxv
Day and night keeping wary watch and ward,
For feare least Force or Fraud should vnaware
Breake in, and spoile the treasure there in gard:
Ne would he suffer Sleepe once thither-ward
Approch, albe his drowsie den were next;
For next to death is Sleepe to be compard:
Therefore his house is vnto his annext;
Here Sleep, there Richesse, and Hel-gate them both betwext[667].

So soone as _Mammon_ there arriu’d, the dore xxvi
To him did open, and affoorded way;
Him followed eke Sir _Guyon_ euermore,
Ne darkenesse him, ne daunger might dismay.
Soone as he entred was, the dore streight way
Did shut, and from behind it forth there lept
An vgly feend, more fowle then dismall day,
The which with monstrous stalke behind him stept,
And euer as he went, dew watch vpon him kept.

Well hoped he, ere long that hardy guest, xxvii
If euer couetous hand, or lustfull eye,
Or lips he layd on thing, that likt him best,
Or euer sleepe his eye-strings did vntye,
Should be his pray. And therefore still on hye
He ouer him did hold his cruell clawes,
Threatning with greedy gripe to do him dye
And rend in peeces with his rauenous pawes,
If euer he transgrest the fatall _Stygian_ lawes.

That houses forme within was rude and strong, xxviii
Like an huge caue, hewne out of rocky clift,
From whose rough vaut the ragged breaches hong,
Embost with massy gold of glorious gift,
And with rich metall loaded euery rift,
That heauy ruine they did seeme to threat;
And ouer them _Arachne_ high did lift
Her cunning web, and spred her subtile net,
Enwrapped in fowle smoke and clouds more blacke then let.

Both roofe, and floore, and wals were all of gold, xxix
But ouergrowne with dust and old decay,
And hid in darkenesse, that none could behold
The hew thereof: for vew of chearefull day
Did neuer in that house it selfe display,
But a faint shadow of vncertain light;
Such as a lamp, whose life does fade away:
Or as the Moone cloathed with clowdy night,
Does shew to him, that walkes in feare and sad affright.

In all that rowme was nothing to be seene, xxx
But huge great yron chests and coffers strong,
All bard with double bends, that none could weene
Them to efforce by violence or wrong;
On euery side they placed were along.
But all the ground with sculs was scattered,
And dead mens bones, which round about were flong,
Whose liues, it seemed, whilome there were shed,
And their vile carcases now left vnburied.

They forward passe, ne _Guyon_ yet spoke[668] word, xxxi
Till that they came vnto an yron dore,
Which to them opened of his[669] owne accord,
And shewd of richesse such exceeding store,
As eye of man did neuer see before;
Ne euer could within one place be found,
Though all the wealth, which is, or was of yore,
Could gathered be through all the world around,
And that aboue were added to that vnder ground.

The charge thereof vnto a couetous Spright xxxii
Commaunded was, who thereby did attend,
And warily awaited day and night,
From other couetous feends it to defend,
Who it to rob and ransacke did intend.
Then _Mammon_[670] turning to that warriour, said;
Loe here the worldes blis, loe here the end,
To which all men do ayme, rich to be made:
Such grace now to be happy, is before thee laid.

Certes (said he) I n’ill thine offred grace, xxxiii
Ne to be made so happy do intend:
Another blis before mine eyes I place,
Another happinesse, another end.
To them, that list, these base regardes I lend:
But I in armes, and in atchieuements braue,
Do rather choose my flitting houres to spend,
And to be Lord of those, that riches haue,
Then them to haue my selfe, and be their seruile sclaue[671].

Thereat the feend his gnashing teeth did grate, xxxiv
And grieu’d, so long to lacke his greedy pray;
For well he weened, that so glorious bayte
Would tempt his guest, to take thereof assay:
Had he so doen, he had him snatcht away,
More light then Culuer in the Faulcons fist.
Eternall God thee saue from such decay.
But whenas _Mammon_ saw his purpose mist,
Him to entrap vnwares another way he wist.

Thence forward he him led, and shortly brought xxxv
Vnto another rowme, whose dore forthright,
To him did open, as it had beene taught:
Therein an hundred raunges weren pight,
And hundred fornaces all burning bright;
By euery fornace many feends did bide,
Deformed creatures, horrible in sight,
And euery feend his busie paines applide,
To melt the golden metall, ready to be tride.

One with great bellowes gathered filling aire, xxxvi
And with forst wind the fewell did inflame;
Another did the dying bronds repaire
With yron[672] toungs, and sprinckled oft the same
With liquid waues, fiers _Vulcans_ rage to tame,
Who maistring them, renewd his former heat;
Some scumd the drosse, that from the metall came;
Some stird the molten owre with ladles great;
And euery one did swincke, and euery one did sweat.

But when as[673] earthly wight they present saw, xxxvii
Glistring in armes and battailous aray,
From their whot worke they did themselues withdraw
To wonder at the sight: for till that day,
They neuer creature saw, that came[674] that way.
Their staring eyes sparckling with feruent fire,
And vgly shapes did nigh the man dismay,
That were it not for shame, he would retire,
Till that him thus bespake their soueraigne Lord and sire.

Behold, thou Faeries sonne, with mortall eye, xxxviii
That liuing eye before did neuer see:
The thing, that thou didst craue so earnestly,
To weet, whence all the wealth late shewd by mee,
Proceeded, lo now is reueald to thee.
Here is the fountaine of the worldes good:
Now therefore, if thou wilt enriched bee,
Auise thee well, and chaunge thy wilfull mood,
Least thou perhaps hereafter wish, and be withstood.

Suffise it then, thou Money God (quoth hee) xxxix
That all thine idle offers I refuse.
All that I need I haue; what needeth mee
To couet more, then I haue cause to vse?
With such vaine shewes thy worldlings vile abuse:
But giue me leaue to follow mine emprise.
_Mammon_ was much displeasd, yet no’te he chuse,
But beare the rigour of his bold mesprise[675],
And thence him forward led, him further to entise.

He brought him through a darksome narrow strait, xl
To a broad gate, all built of beaten gold:
The gate was open, but therein did wait
A sturdy villein, striding stiffe and bold,
As if[676] that[677] highest God defie he would;[678]
In his right hand an yron club he held,
But[679] he himselfe was all of golden[680] mould,
Yet had both life and sence, and well could weld
That cursed weapon, when his cruell foes he queld.

_Disdayne_ he called was, and did disdaine xli
To be so cald, and who so did him call:
Sterne was his[681] looke, and full of stomacke vaine,
His portaunce terrible, and stature tall,
Far passing th’hight of men terrestriall[682];
Like an huge Gyant of the _Titans_ race,
That made him scorne all creatures great and small,
And with his pride all others powre deface:
More fit amongst blacke fiendes, then men to haue his place.

Soone as those glitterand armes he did espye, xlii
That with their brightnesse made that darknesse light,
His harmefull club he gan to hurtle hye,
And threaten batteill to the Faery knight;
Who likewise gan himselfe to batteill dight,
Till _Mammon_ did his hasty hand withhold,
And counseld him abstaine from perilous fight:
For nothing might abash the villein bold,
Ne mortall steele emperce his miscreated mould.

So hauing him with reason pacifide, xliii
And the fiers Carle commaunding to forbeare,
He brought him in. The rowme was large and wide,
As it some Gyeld or solemne Temple weare:
Many great golden pillours did vpbeare
The massy roofe, and riches huge sustayne,
And euery pillour decked was full deare
With crownes and Diademes, and titles vaine,
Which mortall Princes wore, whiles they on earth did rayne.

A route of people there assembled were, xliv
Of euery sort and nation vnder skye,
Which with great vprore preaced to draw nere
To th’vpper part, where was aduaunced hye
A stately siege of soueraigne maiestye;
And thereon sat a woman gorgeous gay,
And richly clad in robes of royaltye,
That neuer earthly Prince in such aray
His glory did enhaunce, and pompous pride display.

Her face right wondrous faire did seeme to bee, xlv
That her broad beauties beam great brightnes threw
Through the dim shade, that all men might it see:
Yet was not that same her owne natiue hew,
But wrought by art and counterfetted shew,
Thereby more louers vnto her to call;
Nath’lesse most heauenly faire in deed and vew
She by creation was, till she did fall;
Thenceforth she sought for helps, to cloke her crime withall.

There, as in glistring glory she did sit, xlvi
She held a great gold chaine ylincked well,
Whose vpper end to highest heauen was knit,
And lower part did reach to lowest Hell;
And all that preace did round about her swell,
To catchen hold of that long chaine, thereby
To clime aloft, and others to excell:
That was _Ambition_, rash desire to sty,
And euery lincke thereof a step of dignity.

Some thought to raise themselues to high degree, xlvii
By riches and vnrighteous reward,
Some by close shouldring, some by flatteree;
Others through friends, others for base regard;
And all by wrong wayes for themselues prepard.
Those that were vp themselues, kept others low,
Those that were low themselues, held others hard,
Ne suffred them to rise or greater grow,
But euery one did striue his fellow downe to throw.

Which whenas _Guyon_ saw, he gan inquire, xlviii
What meant that preace about that Ladies throne,
And what she was that did so high aspire.
Him _Mammon_ answered; That goodly one,
Whom all that folke with such contention,
Do flocke about, my deare, my[683] daughter is;
Honour and dignitie from her alone[684]
Deriued are, and all this worldes blis
For which ye men do striue: few get, but many mis.

And faire _Philotime_ she rightly hight, xlix
The fairest wight that wonneth vnder skye,
But that this darksome neather world her light
Doth dim with horrour and deformitie,
Worthy of heauen and hye felicitie,
From whence the gods haue her for enuy thrust:
But sith thou hast found fauour in mine eye,
Thy spouse I will her make, if that thou lust,
That she may thee aduance for workes and merites iust.

Gramercy _Mammon_[685] (said the gentle knight) l
For so great grace and offred high estate;
But I, that am fraile flesh and earthly wight,
Vnworthy match for such immortall mate
My selfe well wote, and mine vnequall fate;
And were I not, yet is my trouth yplight,
And loue auowd to other Lady late,
That to remoue the same I haue no might:
To chaunge loue causelesse is reproch to warlike knight.

_Mammon_ emmoued was with inward wrath; li
Yet forcing it to faine, him forth thence led
Through griesly shadowes by a beaten path,
Into a gardin goodly garnished
With hearbs and fruits, whose kinds mote not be red:
Not such, as earth out of her fruitfull woomb
Throwes forth to men, sweet and well sauoured,
But direfull deadly blacke both leafe and bloom,
Fit to adorne the dead, and decke the drery toombe.

There mournfull _Cypresse_ grew in greatest store, lii
And trees of bitter _Gall_, and _Heben_ sad,
Dead sleeping _Poppy_, and blacke _Hellebore_,
Cold _Coloquintida_, and _Tetra_ mad,
Mortall _Samnitis_, and _Cicuta_ bad,
With which[686] th’vniust _Atheniens_ made to dy
Wise _Socrates_, who thereof quaffing glad
Pourd out his life, and last Philosophy
To the faire _Critias_ his dearest Belamy.

The _Gardin_[687] of _Proserpina_ this hight; liii
And in the midst thereof a siluer seat,
With a thicke Arber goodly ouer dight,
In which she often vsd from open heat
Her selfe to shroud, and pleasures to entreat.
Next thereunto did grow a goodly tree,
With braunches broad dispred and body great,
Clothed with leaues, that none the wood mote see
And loaden all with fruit as thicke as it might bee.

Their fruit were golden apples glistring bright, liv
That goodly was their glory to behold,
On earth like neuer grew, ne liuing wight
Like euer saw, but they from hence were sold;
For those, which _Hercules_ with conquest bold
Got from great _Atlas_ daughters, hence began,
And planted there, did bring forth fruit of gold:
And those with which th’[688]_Eubæan_ young man wan
Swift _Atalanta_, when through craft he her out ran.

Here also sprong that goodly golden fruit, lv
With which _Acontius_ got his louer trew,
Whom he had long time sought with fruitlesse suit:
Here eke that famous golden Apple grew,
The which emongst the gods false _Ate_ threw;
For which th’_Idæan_ Ladies disagreed,
Till partiall _Paris_ dempt it _Venus_ dew,
And had of her, faire _Helen_ for his meed,
That many noble _Greekes_ and _Troians_ made to bleed.

The warlike Elfe[689] much wondred at this tree, lvi
So faire and great, that shadowed all the ground,
And his broad braunches, laden with rich fee,
Did stretch themselues without the vtmost bound
Of this great gardin, compast with a mound,
Which ouer-hanging, they themselues did steepe,
In a blacke flood which flow’d about it round;
That is the riuer of _Cocytus_ deepe,
In which full many soules do endlesse waile and weepe.

Which to behold, he clomb vp to the banke, lvii
And looking downe, saw many damned wights,
In those sad waues, which direfull deadly stanke,
Plonged continually of cruell Sprights,
That with their pitteous cryes, and yelling shrights,
They made the further shore resounden wide:
Emongst the rest of those same ruefull sights,
One cursed creature[690] he by chaunce espide,
That drenched lay full deepe, vnder the Garden side.

Deepe was he drenched to the vpmost chin, lviii
Yet gaped still, as coueting to drinke
Of the cold liquor, which he waded in,
And stretching forth his hand, did often thinke
To reach the fruit, which grew vpon the brincke:
But both the fruit from hand, and floud from mouth
Did flie abacke, and made him vainely swinke:
The whiles he steru’d with hunger and with drouth
He daily dyde, yet neuer throughly dyen couth.

The knight him seeing labour so in vaine, lix
Askt who he was, and what he ment thereby:
Who groning deepe, thus answerd him againe;
Most cursed of all creatures vnder skye,
Lo _Tantalus_, I here tormented lye:
Of whom high _Ioue_ wont whylome feasted bee,
Lo here I now for want of food doe dye:
But if that thou be such, as I thee see,
Of grace I pray thee, giue to eat and drinke to mee.

Nay, nay, thou greedie _Tantalus_ (quoth he) lx
Abide the fortune of thy present fate,
And vnto all that liue in high degree,
Ensample be of mind intemperate[691],
To teach them how to vse their present state.
Then gan the cursed wretch aloud to cry,
Accusing highest _Ioue_ and gods ingrate,
And eke blaspheming heauen bitterly,
As authour of vniustice, there to let him dye.

He lookt a little further, and espyde lxi
Another wretch, whose carkasse deepe was drent
Within the riuer, which the same did hyde:
But both his hands most filthy feculent,
Aboue the water were on high extent,
And faynd to wash themselues incessantly;
Yet nothing cleaner were for such intent,
But rather fowler seemed to the eye;
So lost his labour vaine and idle industry.

The knight him calling, asked who he was, lxii
Who lifting vp his head, him answerd thus:
I _Pilate_ am the falsest Iudge, alas,
And most vniust, that by vnrighteous
And wicked doome, to Iewes despiteous
Deliuered vp the Lord of life to die,
And did acquite a murdrer felonous;
The whiles my hands I washt in puritie,
The whiles my soule was soyld with foule iniquitie.

Infinite moe, tormented in like paine lxiii
He there beheld, too long here to be told:
Ne _Mammon_ would there let him long remaine,
For terrour of the tortures manifold,
In which the damned soules he did behold,
But roughly him bespake. Thou fearefull foole,
Why takest not of that same fruit of gold,
Ne sittest downe on that same siluer stoole,
To rest thy wearie person, in the shadow coole.

All which he did, to doe him deadly fall lxiv
In frayle intemperance through sinfull bayt;
To which if he inclined had at all,
That dreadfull feend, which did behind him wayt,
Would him haue rent in thousand peeces strayt:
But he was warie wise in all his way,
And well perceiued his deceiptfull sleight,
Ne suffred lust his safetie to betray;
So goodly did beguile the Guyler of the pray[692].

And now he has so long remained there, lxv
That vitall powres gan wexe both weake and wan,
For want of food, and sleepe, which two vpbeare,
Like mightie pillours, this fraile life of man,
That none without the same enduren can.
For now three dayes of men were full outwrought,
Since he this hardie enterprize began:
For thy great _Mammon_ fairely he besought,
Into the world to guide him backe, as he him brought.

The God, though loth, yet was constraind t’obay, lxvi
For lenger time, then that, no liuing wight
Below the earth, might suffred be to stay:
So backe againe, him brought to liuing light.
But all so soone as his enfeebled spright
Gan sucke this vitall aire into his brest,
As ouercome with too exceeding might,
The life did flit away out of her nest,
And all his senses were with deadly fit opprest.

FOOTNOTES:

[651] Arg. 1 _Mamon_ _1590_, _1596_

[652] i 9 fly. _1590_, _1596_

[653] iii 9 spetting _1609_

[654] iv 4 yet] it _1596_, _1609_

[655] 8 vpside downe _1590_

[656] 9 And] A _1596_

[657] v 4 _Melcibers_ _1590_

[658] vii 3 heapes] hils _1590_

[659] x 1 besits] befits _1609_

[660] xii 7 Strife; _1596_

[661] 9 as] in _1590_

[662] xviii 2 that _om. 1596_

[663] xix 5 bloodguiltnesse _1590_: bloud guiltnesse _1596_

[664] xxi 5 infernall] internall _1590_

[665] xxiii 1 horror _1590_: horrour _1596_

[666] xxiv 7 ought] nought _1590_

[667] xxv 9 betwixt _1609_

[668] xxxi 1 spake _1609_

[669] 3 his] it _1609_

[670] xxxii 6 _Hammon_ _1590_: _corr. F. E._

[671] xxxiii 9 slaue _1609_

[672] xxxvi 4 yron] dying _1590_

[673] xxxvii 1 as] an _1590_

[674] 5 cam _1590_

[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._

_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._

_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.