SPENSER’S FAERIE QUEENE (continued 6)

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.

The house of Temperance, in which doth sober Alma dwell, Besiegd of many foes, whom straunger knightes to flight[721] compell.

Of all Gods workes, which do this world adorne, i There is no one more faire and excellent, Then is mans body both for powre and forme, Whiles it is kept in sober gouernment; But none then it, more fowle and indecent[722], Distempred through misrule and passions bace: It growes a Monster, and incontinent Doth loose his dignitie and natiue grace. Behold, who list, both one and other in this place. After the Paynim brethren conquer’d were, ii The Briton Prince recou’ring his stolne sword, And Guyon his lost shield, they both yfere Forth passed on their way in faire accord, Till him the Prince with gentle court did bord; Sir knight, mote I of you this curt’sie read, To weet why on your shield so goodly scord Beare ye the picture of that Ladies head? Full liuely is the semblaunt, though the substance dead.

Faire Sir (said he) if in that picture dead iii Such life ye read, and vertue in vaine shew, What mote ye weene, if the trew liuely-head Of that most glorious visage ye did vew? But if the beautie of her mind ye knew, That is her bountie, and imperiall powre, Thousand times fairer then her mortall hew, O how great wonder would your thoughts deuoure, And infinite desire into your spirite poure! She is the mighty Queene of Faerie, iv Whose faire retrait I in my shield do beare; She is the flowre of grace and chastitie, Throughout the world renowmed far and neare, My liefe, my liege, my Soueraigne, my deare, Whose glory shineth as the morning starre, And with her light the earth enlumines cleare; Far reach her mercies, and her prayses farre, As well in state of peace, as puissaunce in warre. Thrise happy man, (said then the Briton knight) v Whom gracious lot, and thy great valiaunce Haue made thee[723] souldier of that Princesse bright, Which with her bounty and glad countenance Doth blesse her seruaunts, and them high aduaunce. How may straunge knight hope euer to aspire, By faithfull seruice, and meet amenance, Vnto such blisse? sufficient were that hire For losse of thousand liues, to dye at her desire. Said Guyon, Noble Lord, what meed so great, vi Or grace of earthly Prince so soueraine, But by your wondrous worth and warlike feat Ye well may hope, and easely attaine? But were your will, her sold to entertaine, And numbred be mongst knights of Maydenhed, Great guerdon, well I wote, should you remaine, And in her fauour high be reckoned, As Arthegall,[724] and Sophy now beene honored.

Certes (then said the Prince) I God auow, vii That sith I armes and knighthood first did plight, My whole desire hath beene, and yet is now, To serue that Queene with all my powre and might. Now hath[725] the Sunne with his lamp-burning light, Walkt round[726] about the world, and I no lesse, Sith[727] of that Goddesse I haue sought the sight, Yet no where can her find: such happinesse Heauen doth to me enuy, and fortune fauourlesse. Fortune, the foe of famous cheuisaunce viii Seldome (said Guyon) yields to vertue aide, But in her way throwes mischiefe and mischaunce, Whereby her course is stopt, and passage staid. But you,[728] faire Sir, be not herewith dismaid, But constant keepe the way, in which ye stand; Which were it not, that I am else delaid With hard aduenture, which I haue in hand, I labour would to guide you through all Faery land. Gramercy Sir (said he) but mote I weete,[729] ix What straunge aduenture do ye now pursew? Perhaps my succour, or aduizement meete Mote stead you much your purpose to subdew. Then gan Sir Guyon all the story shew Of false Acrasia, and her wicked wiles, Which to auenge, the Palmer him forth drew From Faery court. So talked they, the whiles They wasted had much way, and measurd many miles. And now faire Phœbus gan decline in hast x His weary wagon to the Westerne vale, Whenas they spide a goodly castle, plast Foreby a riuer in a pleasaunt dale, Which choosing for that euenings hospitale, They thither marcht: but when they came in sight, And from their sweaty Coursers did auale, They found the gates fast barred long ere night, And euery loup fast lockt, as fearing foes despight.

Which when they saw, they weened fowle reproch xi Was to them doen, their entrance to forstall, Till that the Squire gan nigher to approch; And wind his horne vnder the castle wall, That with the noise it shooke, as it would fall: Eftsoones forth looked from the highest spire The watch, and lowd vnto the knights did call, To weete, what they so rudely did require. Who gently answered, They entrance did desire. Fly fly, good knights, (said he) fly fast away xii If that your liues ye loue, as meete ye should; Fly fast, and saue your selues from neare decay, Here may ye not haue entraunce, though we would: We would and would againe, if that we could; But thousand enemies about vs raue, And with long siege vs in this castle hould: Seuen yeares this wize they vs besieged haue, And many good knights slaine, that haue vs sought to saue. Thus as he spoke[730], loe with outragious cry xiii A thousand villeins round about them swarmd Out of the rockes and caues adioyning nye, Vile caytiue wretches, ragged, rude, deformd, All threatning death, all in straunge manner armd, Some with vnweldy clubs, some with long speares, Some rusty kniues, some staues in fire warmd. Sterne was their looke, like wild amazed steares, Staring with hollow eyes, and stiffe vpstanding heares. Fiersly at first those knights they did assaile, xiv And droue them to recoile: but when againe They gaue fresh charge, their forces gan to faile, Vnhable their encounter to sustaine; For with such puissaunce and impetuous maine Those Champions broke on them, that forst them fly, Like scattered Sheepe, whenas the Shepheards swaine A Lyon and a Tigre doth espye, With greedy pace forth rushing from the forest nye.

A while they fled, but soone returnd againe xv With greater fury, then before was found; And euermore their cruell Capitaine[731] Sought with his raskall routs t’enclose them round, And ouerrun to tread them to the ground. But soone the knights with their bright-burning blades Broke their rude troupes, and orders did confound, Hewing and slashing at their idle shades; For though they bodies seeme, yet substance from them fades. As when a swarme of Gnats at euentide xvi Out of the fennes of Allan do arise, Their murmuring small trompets sounden wide, Whiles in the aire their clustring army flies, That as a cloud doth seeme to dim the skies; Ne man nor beast may rest, or take repast, For their sharpe wounds, and noyous iniuries, Till the fierce Northerne wind with[732] blustring blast Doth blow them quite away, and in the Ocean cast. Thus when they had that troublous rout disperst, xvii Vnto the castle gate they come againe, And entraunce crau’d, which was denied erst. Now when report of that their perilous[733] paine, And combrous conflict[734], which they did sustaine, Came to the Ladies eare, which there did dwell, She forth issewed with a goodly traine Of Squires and Ladies equipaged well, And entertained them right fairely, as befell. Alma she called was, a virgin bright; xviii That had not yet felt Cupides wanton rage, Yet was she woo’d of many a gentle knight, And many a Lord of noble parentage, That sought with her to lincke in marriage: For she was faire, as faire mote euer bee, And in the flowre now of her freshest age; Yet full of grace and goodly modestee, That euen heauen reioyced her sweete face to see.

In robe of lilly white she was arayd, xix That from her shoulder to her heele downe raught, The traine whereof loose far behind her strayd, Braunched with gold and pearle, most richly wrought, And borne of two faire Damsels, which were taught That seruice well. Her yellow golden heare Was trimly wouen, and in tresses wrought, Ne other tyre she on her head did weare, But crowned[735] with a garland of sweete Rosiere. Goodly she entertaind those noble knights, xx And brought them vp into her castle hall; Where gentle court and gracious delight She to them made, with mildnesse virginall, Shewing her selfe both wise and liberall: There[736] when they rested had a season dew, They her besought of fauour speciall, Of that faire Castle to affoord them vew; She graunted, and them leading forth, the same did shew. First she them[737] led vp to the Castle wall, xxi That was so high, as foe might not it clime, And all so faire, and fensible[738] withall, Not built of bricke, ne yet of stone and lime, But of thing like to that Ægyptian slime, Whereof king Nine whilome built Babell towre; But O great pitty, that no lenger time[739] So goodly workemanship should not endure: Soone it must turne to earth; no earthly thing is sure. The frame thereof seemd partly circulare, xxii And part triangulare, O worke diuine; Those two the first and last proportions are, The one imperfect, mortall, fœminine; Th’other immortall, perfect, masculine, And twixt them both a quadrate was the base, Proportioned equally by seuen and nine; Nine was the circle set in heauens place, All which compacted made a goodly diapase[740].

Therein two gates were placed seemly well: xxiii The one before, by which all in did pas, Did th’other far in workmanship excell; For not of wood, nor of enduring bras, But of more worthy substance fram’d it was; Doubly disparted, it did locke and close, That when it locked, none might thorough pas, And when it opened, no man might it close, Still open to their friends, and closed to their foes. Of hewen stone the porch was fairely wrought, xxiv Stone more of valew, and more smooth and fine, Then Iet or Marble far from Ireland brought; Ouer the which was cast a wandring vine, Enchaced with a wanton yuie twine. And ouer it a faire Portcullis hong, Which to the gate directly did incline, With comely compasse, and compacture strong, Neither vnseemely short, nor yet exceeding long. Within the Barbican a Porter sate, xxv Day and night duely keeping watch and ward, Nor wight, nor word mote passe out of the gate, But in good order, and with dew regard; Vtterers of secrets he from thence debard, Bablers of folly, and blazers of crime. His larumbell might lowd and wide be hard, When cause requird, but neuer out of time; Early and late it rong, at euening and at prime. And round about the porch on euery side xxvi Twise sixteen warders sat, all armed bright In glistring steele, and strongly fortifide: Tall yeomen seemed they, and of great might, And were enraunged ready, still for fight. By them as Alma passed with her guestes, They did obeysaunce, as beseemed right, And then againe returned to their restes: The Porter eke to her did lout with humble gestes.

Thence she them brought into a stately Hall, xxvii Wherein were many tables faire dispred, And ready dight with drapets festiuall, Against the viaundes should be ministred. At th’upper end there sate, yclad in red Downe to the ground, a comely personage, That in his hand a white rod menaged, He Steward was hight Diet; rype of age, And in demeanure sober, and in counsell sage. And through the Hall there walked to and fro xxviii A iolly yeoman, Marshall of the same, Whose name was Appetite; he did bestow Both guestes and meate, when euer in they came, And knew them how to order without blame, As him the Steward bad. They both attone Did dewty to their Lady, as became; Who passing by, forth led her guestes anone Into the kitchin rowme, ne spard for nicenesse none. It was a vaut ybuilt for great dispence, xxix With many raunges reard along the wall; And one great chimney, whose long tonnell thence[741] The smoke forth threw. And in the midst of all There placed was a caudron wide and tall, Vpon a mighty furnace, burning whot, More whot, then Aetn’, or flaming Mongiball: For day and night it brent, ne ceased not, So long as any thing it in the caudron got. But to delay the heat, least by mischaunce xxx It might breake out, and set the whole on fire, There added was by goodly ordinaunce, An huge great paire of bellowes, which did styre Continually, and cooling breath inspyre. About the Caudron many Cookes accoyld, With hookes and ladles, as need did require; The whiles the viandes in the vessell boyld They did about their businesse sweat, and sorely toyld.

The maister Cooke was cald Concoction, xxxi A carefull man, and full of comely guise: The kitchin Clerke, that hight Digestion, Did order all th’Achates[742] in seemely wise, And set them forth, as well he could deuise. The rest had seuerall offices assind, Some to remoue the scum, as it did rise; Others to beare the same away did mind; And others it to vse according to his kind. But all the liquour, which was fowle and wast, xxxii Not good nor seruiceable else for ought, They in another great round vessell plast, Till by a conduit pipe it thence were brought: And all the rest, that noyous was, and nought, By secret wayes, that none might it espy, Was close conuaid, and to the back-gate brought, That cleped was Port Esquiline, whereby It was auoided quite, and throwne out priuily. Which goodly order, and great workmans skill xxxiii Whenas those knights beheld, with rare delight, And gazing wonder they their minds did fill; For neuer had they seene so straunge a sight. Thence backe againe faire Alma led them right, And soone into a goodly Parlour brought, That was with royall arras richly dight, In which was nothing pourtrahed, nor wrought, Not wrought, nor pourtrahed, but easie to be thought. And in the midst thereof vpon the floure, xxxiv A louely beuy of faire Ladies sate, Courted of many a iolly Paramoure, The which them did in modest wise amate, And eachone sought his Lady to aggrate: And eke emongst them litle Cupid playd His wanton sports, being returned late From his fierce warres, and hauing from him layd His cruell bow, wherewith he thousands hath dismayd.

Diuerse delights they found them selues to please; xxxv Some song in sweet consort, some laught for ioy, Some plaid with strawes, some idly sat at ease; But other some could not abide to toy, All pleasaunce was to them griefe and annoy: This fround, that faund, the third for shame did blush, Another seemed enuious, or coy, Another in her teeth did gnaw a rush: But at these straungers presence euery one did hush. Soone as the gracious Alma came in place, xxxvi They all attonce out of their seates arose, And to her homage made, with humble grace: Whom when the knights beheld, they gan dispose Themselues to court, and each a Damsell chose: The Prince by chaunce did on a Lady light, That was right faire and fresh as morning rose, But somwhat sad, and solemne eke in sight, As if some pensiue thought constraind her gentle spright. In a long purple pall, whose skirt with gold[743] xxxvii Was fretted all about, she was arayd; And in her hand a Poplar braunch did hold: To whom the Prince in curteous manner said; Gentle Madame, why beene ye thus dismaid, And your faire beautie do with sadnesse spill? Liues any, that you hath thus ill apaid? Or doen you loue,[744] or doen you lacke your will? What euer be the cause, it sure beseemes you ill. Faire Sir, (said she halfe in disdainefull wise,) xxxviii How is it, that this mood[745] in me ye blame, And in your selfe do not the same aduise? Him ill beseemes, anothers fault to name, That may vnwares be blotted with the same: Pensiue I yeeld I am, and sad in mind, Through great desire of glory and of fame; Ne ought I weene are ye therein behind, That haue twelue moneths[746] sought one, yet no where can her find.

The Prince was inly moued at her speach, xxxix Well weeting trew, what she had rashly told; Yet with faire semblaunt[747] sought to hide the breach, Which chaunge of colour did perforce vnfold, Now seeming flaming whot, now stony cold. Tho turning soft aside, he did inquire, What wight she was, that Poplar braunch did hold: It answered was, her name was Prays-desire, That by well doing sought to honour to aspire. The whiles, the Faerie knight did entertaine xl Another Damsell of that gentle crew, That was right faire, and modest of demaine, But that too oft she chaung’d her natiue hew: Straunge was her tyre, and all her garment blew, Close round about her tuckt with many a plight: Vpon her fist the bird, which shonneth vew, And keepes in couerts close from liuing wight, Did sit, as yet ashamd, how rude Pan did her dight. So long as Guyon with her commoned[748], xli Vnto the ground she cast her modest eye, And euer and anone with rosie red The bashfull bloud her snowy cheekes did dye, That her became, as polisht yuory, Which cunning Craftesmans[749] hand hath ouerlayd With faire vermilion or pure Castory[750]. Great wonder had the knight, to see the mayd So straungely passioned, and to her gently sayd, Faire Damzell, seemeth, by your troubled cheare[751], xlii That either me too bold ye weene, this wise You to molest, or other ill to feare That in the secret of your hart close lyes, From whence it doth, as cloud from sea arise. If it be I, of pardon I you pray; But if ought else that I mote not deuise, I will, if please you it discure, assay, To ease you of that ill, so wisely as I may.

She answerd nought, but more abasht for shame, xliii Held downe her head, the whiles her louely face The flashing bloud with blushing did inflame, And the strong passion mard her modest grace, That Guyon meruayld at her vncouth cace: Till Alma him bespake, Why[752] wonder yee Faire Sir at that, which ye so much embrace? She is the fountaine of your modestee; You shamefast[753] are, but Shamefastnesse it selfe is shee. Thereat the Elfe did blush in priuitee, xliv And turnd his face away; but she the same Dissembled faire, and faynd to ouersee. Thus they awhile with court and goodly game, Themselues did solace each one with his Dame, Till that great Ladie thence away them sought, To vew her castles other wondrous frame. Vp to a stately Turret she them brought, Ascending by ten steps of Alablaster wrought. That Turrets frame most admirable was, xlv Like highest heauen compassed around, And lifted high aboue this earthly masse, Which it suruew’d, as hils doen lower ground; But not on ground mote like to this be found, Not that, which antique Cadmus whylome built In Thebes, which Alexander did confound; Nor that proud towre of Troy, though richly guilt, From which young Hectors bloud by cruell Greekes was spilt. The roofe hereof was arched ouer head, xlvi And deckt with flowers and herbars daintily; Two goodly Beacons, set in watches stead, Therein gaue light, and flam’d continually: For they of liuing fire most subtilly Were made, and set in siluer sockets bright, Couer’d with lids deuiz’d of substance sly, That readily they shut and open might. O who can tell the prayses of that makers might!

Ne can I tell, ne can I stay to tell xlvii This parts great workmanship, and wondrous powre, That all this other worlds worke doth excell, And likest is vnto that heauenly towre, That God hath built for his owne blessed bowre. Therein were diuerse roomes, and diuerse stages, But three the chiefest, and of greatest powre, In which there dwelt three honorable sages, The wisest men, I weene, that liued in their ages. Not he, whom Greece, the Nourse of all good arts, xlviii By Phœbus doome, the wisest thought aliue, Might be compar’d to these[754] by many parts: Nor that sage Pylian syre, which did suruiue Three ages, such as mortall men contriue, By whose aduise old Priams cittie fell, With these in praise of pollicies mote striue. These three in these three roomes did sundry dwell, And counselled faire Alma, how to gouerne well. The first of them could things to come foresee: xlix The next could of things present best aduize; The third things past could keepe in memoree, So that no time, nor reason[755] could arize, But that the same could one of these comprize. For thy the first did in the forepart sit, That nought mote hinder his quicke preiudize: He had a sharpe foresight, and working wit, That neuer idle was, ne once could[756] rest a whit. His chamber was dispainted all within, l With sundry colours, in the which were writ Infinite shapes of things dispersed thin; Some such as in the world were neuer yit, Ne can deuized be of mortall wit; Some daily seene, and knowen by their names, Such as in idle fantasies doe flit: Infernall Hags, Centaurs, feendes, Hippodames, Apes, Lions, Ægles, Owles, fooles, louers, children, Dames.

And all the chamber filled was with flyes, li Which buzzed all about, and made such sound, That they encombred all mens eares and eyes, Like many swarmes of Bees assembled round, After their hiues with honny do abound: All those were idle thoughts and fantasies, Deuices, dreames, opinions vnsound, Shewes, visions, sooth-sayes, and prophesies; And all that fained is, as leasings, tales, and lies. Emongst them all sate he, which wonned there, lii That hight Phantastes by his nature trew; A man of yeares yet fresh, as mote appere, Of swarth complexion, and of crabbed hew, That him full of melancholy did shew; Bent hollow beetle browes, sharpe staring eyes, That mad or foolish seemd: one by his vew Mote deeme him borne with ill disposed skyes, When oblique Saturne sate in the house[757] of agonyes. Whom Alma hauing shewed to her guestes, liii Thence brought them to the second roome, whose wals Were painted faire with memorable gestes, Of famous Wisards, and with picturals Of Magistrates, of courts, of tribunals, Of commen wealthes, of states, of pollicy, Of lawes, of iudgements, and of decretals; All artes, all science, all Philosophy, And all that in the world was aye thought wittily. Of those that roome was full, and them among liv There sate a man of ripe and perfect age, Who did them meditate all his life long, That through continuall practise and vsage, He now was growne right wise, and wondrous sage. Great pleasure had those stranger knights, to see His goodly reason, and graue personage, That his disciples both desir’d to bee; But Alma thence them led to th’hindmost roome of three.

That chamber seemed ruinous and old, lv And therefore was remoued farre behind, Yet were the wals, that did the same vphold, Right firme and strong, though somewhat they declind; And therein sate an old oldman, halfe blind, And all decrepit in his feeble corse, Yet liuely vigour rested in his mind, And recompenst him with a better scorse: Weake body well is[758] chang’d for minds redoubled forse. This man of infinite remembrance was, lvi And things foregone through many ages held, Which he recorded still, as they did pas, Ne suffred them to perish through long eld, As all things else, the which this world doth weld, But laid them vp in his immortall scrine, Where they for euer incorrupted dweld: The warres he well remembred of king Nine, Of old Assaracus, and Inachus diuine. The yeares of Nestor nothing were to[759] his, lvii Ne yet Mathusalem, though longest liu’d; For he remembred both their infancies: Ne wonder then, if that he were depriu’d Of natiue strength now, that he them suruiu’d. His chamber all was hangd about with rolles, And old records from auncient times deriu’d, Some made in books, some in long parchment scrolles, That were all worme-eaten, and full of canker holes. Amidst them all he in a chaire was set, lviii Tossing and turning them withouten end; But for he was vnhable them to fet, A litle boy did on him still attend, To reach, when euer he for ought did send; And oft when things were lost, or laid amis, That boy them sought, and vnto him did lend. Therefore he Anamnestes cleped is, And that old man Eumnestes, by their propertis.

The knights there entring, did him reuerence dew lix And wondred at his endlesse exercise, Then as they gan his Librarie to vew, And antique Registers for to auise, There chaunced to the Princes hand to rize, An auncient booke, hight Briton moniments, That of this lands first conquest did deuize, And old diuision into Regiments, Till it reduced was to one mans gouernments. Sir Guyon chaunst eke on another booke, lx That hight Antiquitie of Faerie lond,[760] In which when as he greedily did looke,[761] Th’off-spring of Elues and Faries there he fond, As it deliuered was from hond to hond: Whereat they burning both with feruent fire, Their countries auncestry to vnderstond, Crau’d leaue of Alma, and that aged sire, To read those bookes; who gladly graunted their desire.

A chronicle of Briton kings, from Brute to Vthers rayne. And rolles of Elfin Emperours, till time of Gloriane.

Who now shall giue vnto me words and sound, i Equall vnto this haughtie enterprise? Or who shall lend me wings, with which from ground My lowly verse may loftily arise, And lift it selfe vnto the highest skies? More ample spirit, then hitherto was wount, Here needes me, whiles the famous auncestries Of my most dreaded Soueraigne I recount, By which all earthly Princes she doth farre surmount.

Ne vnder Sunne, that shines so wide and faire, ii Whence all that liues, does borrow life and light, Liues ought, that to her linage may compaire, Which though from earth it be deriued right, Yet doth it selfe stretch forth to heauens hight, And all the world with wonder ouerspred; A labour huge, exceeding farre my might: How shall fraile pen, with feare disparaged, Conceiue such soueraine glory, and great bountihed? Argument worthy of Mœonian quill, iii Or rather worthy of great Phœbus rote, Whereon the ruines of great Ossa hill, And triumphes of Phlegræan Ioue he wrote, That all the Gods admird his loftie note. But if some relish of that heauenly lay His learned daughters would to me report, To decke my song withall, I would assay, Thy name, O soueraine Queene, to blazon farre away. Thy name O soueraine Queene, thy realme and race, iv From this renowmed Prince deriued arre, Who[762] mightily vpheld that royall mace, Which now thou bear’st, to thee descended farre From mightie kings and conquerours in warre, Thy fathers and great[763] Grandfathers of old[764], Whose noble deedes aboue the Northerne starre Immortall fame for euer hath enrold; As in that old mans booke they were in order told. The land, which warlike Britons now possesse, v And therein haue their mightie empire raysd, In antique times was saluage wildernesse, Vnpeopled, vnmanurd, vnprou’d, vnpraysd, Ne was it Island then, ne was it paysd Amid the Ocean waues, ne was it sought Of marchants[765] farre, for profits therein praysd, But was all desolate, and of some thought By sea to haue bene from the Celticke mayn-land brought.

Ne did it then deserue a name to haue, vi Till that the venturous Mariner that way Learning his ship from those white rocks to saue, Which all along the Southerne sea-coast lay, Threatning vnheedie wrecke and rash decay, For safeties sake[766] that same his sea-marke made, And namd it Albion. But later day Finding in it fit ports for fishers trade, Gan more the same frequent, and further to inuade. But farre in land a saluage nation dwelt, vii Of hideous Giants, and halfe beastly men, That neuer tasted grace, nor goodnesse felt, But like wild beasts lurking in loathsome den, And flying fast as Roebucke through the fen, All naked without shame, or care of cold, By hunting and by spoiling liued then[767]; Of stature huge, and eke of courage bold, That sonnes of men amazd their sternnesse to behold. But whence they sprong, or how they were begot, viii Vneath is to assure; vneath to wene That monstrous error, which doth some assot, That Dioclesians fiftie daughters shene Into this land by chaunce haue driuen bene, Where companing with feends and filthy Sprights, Through vaine illusion of their lust vnclene, They brought forth Giants and such dreadfull wights, As farre exceeded men in their immeasurd mights. They held this land, and with their filthinesse ix Polluted this same gentle soyle long time: That their owne mother loathd their beastlinesse, And gan abhorre her broods vnkindly crime, All were they borne of her owne natiue slime, Vntill that Brutus anciently deriu’d From royall stocke of old Assaracs[768] line, Driuen by fatall error, here arriu’d, And them of their vniust possession depriu’d.

But ere he had established his throne, x And spred his empire to the vtmost shore, He fought great battels with his saluage fone; In which he them defeated euermore, And many Giants left on groning flore; That well can witnesse yet vnto this day The westerne Hogh, besprincled with the gore Of mightie Goëmot, whom in stout fray Corineus conquered, and cruelly did slay. And eke that ample Pit, yet farre renownd, xi For the large leape, which Debon did compell Coulin to make, being eight lugs of grownd; Into the which returning backe, he fell, But those three monstrous stones doe most excell Which that huge sonne of hideous Albion, Whose father Hercules in Fraunce did quell, Great Godmer threw, in fierce contention, At bold Canutus; but of him was slaine anon. In meed of these great conquests by them got, xii Corineus had that[769] Prouince vtmost west, To him assigned for his worthy lot, Which of his name and memorable gest He called Cornewaile, yet so called best: And Debons shayre was, that is Deuonshyre: But Canute had his portion from the rest, The which he cald Canutium, for his hyre; Now Cantium, which Kent we commenly inquire. Thus Brute this Realme vnto his rule subdewd, xiii And raigned long in great felicitie, Lou’d of his friends, and of his foes eschewd, He left three sonnes, his famous progeny, Borne of faire Inogene of Italy; Mongst whom he parted his imperiall state, And Locrine left chiefe Lord of Britany. At last ripe age bad him surrender late His life, and long good fortune vnto finall fate.

Locrine was left the soueraine Lord of all; xiv But Albanact had all the Northrene part, Which of himselfe Albania he did call; And Camber did possesse the Westerne quart, Which Seuerne now from Logris doth depart: And each his portion peaceably enioyd, Ne was there outward breach, nor grudge in hart, That once their quiet gouernment annoyd, But each his paines to others profit still employd. Vntill a nation straung, with visage swart, xv And courage fierce, that all men did affray, Which through the world then swarmd in euery part, And ouerflow’d all countries farre away, Like Noyes great flood, with their importune sway, This land inuaded with like violence, And did themselues through all the North display: Vntill that Locrine for his Realmes defence, Did head against them make, and strong munifience[770]. He them encountred, a confused rout, xvi Foreby the Riuer, that whylome was hight The auncient Abus, where with courage stout He them defeated in victorious fight, And chaste so fiercely after fearfull flight, That forst their Chieftaine, for his safeties sake, (Their Chieftaine Humber named was aright) Vnto the mightie streame him to betake, Where he an end of battell, and of life did make. The king returned proud of victorie, xvii And insolent wox through vnwonted ease, That shortly he forgot the ieopardie, Which in his land he lately did appease, And fell to vaine voluptuous disease: He lou’d faire Ladie Estrild, lewdly lou’d, Whose wanton pleasures him too much did please, That quite his hart from Guendolene remou’d, From Guendolene his wife, though alwaies faithfull prou’d.

The noble daughter of Corineus xviii Would not endure to be so vile disdaind, But gathering force, and courage valorous, Encountred him in battell well ordaind, In which him vanquisht she to fly constraind: But she so fast pursewd, that him she tooke, And threw in bands, where he till death remaind; Als his faire Leman, flying through a brooke, She ouerhent, nought moued with her piteous looke. But both her selfe, and eke her daughter deare, xix Begotten by her kingly Paramoure, The faire Sabrina almost dead with feare, She there attached, farre from all succoure; The one she slew in that impatient stoure[771], But the sad virgin innocent of all, Adowne the rolling riuer she did poure, Which of her name now Seuerne men do call: Such was the end, that to disloyall loue did fall. Then for her sonne, which she to Locrin bore, xx Madan was young, vnmeet the rule to sway[772], In her owne hand the crowne she kept in store, Till ryper yeares he raught, and stronger stay: During which time her powre she did display Through all this realme, the glorie of her sex, And first taught men a woman to obay: But when her sonne to mans estate did wex, She it surrendred, ne her selfe would lenger vex. Tho Madan raignd, vnworthie of his race: xxi For with all shame that sacred throne he fild: Next Memprise, as vnworthy of that place, In which being consorted with Manild, For thirst of single kingdome him he kild. But Ebranck salued both their infamies With noble deedes, and warreyd on Brunchild In Henault, where yet of his victories Braue moniments remaine, which yet that land enuies.

An happie man in his first dayes he was, xxii And happie father of faire progeny: For all so many weekes as the yeare has, So many children he did multiply; Of which were twentie sonnes, which did apply[773] Their minds to praise, and cheualrous desire: Those germans did subdew all Germany, Of whom it hight; but in the end their Sire With foule repulse from Fraunce was forced to retire. Which blot his sonne succeeding in his seat, xxiii The second Brute, the second both in name, And eke in semblance of his puissance great, Right well recur’d, and did away that blame With recompence of euerlasting fame. He with his victour sword first opened[774] The bowels of wide Fraunce, a forlorne Dame, And taught her first how to be conquered; Since which, with sundrie spoiles she hath beene ransacked. Let Scaldis tell, and let tell Hania, xxiv And let the marsh of Estham bruges tell, What colour were their waters that same day, And all the moore twixt Eluersham and Dell, With bloud of Henalois, which therein fell. How oft that day did sad Brunchildis see The greene shield dyde in dolorous vermell? That not Scuith guiridh[775] it[776] mote seeme to bee, But rather y Scuith gogh, signe of sad crueltee[777]. His sonne king Leill by fathers labour long, xxv Enioyd an heritage of lasting peace, And built Cairleill, and built Cairleon strong. Next Huddibras his realme did not encrease, But taught the land from wearie warres to cease. Whose footsteps Bladud following, in arts Exceld at Athens all the learned preace, From whence he brought them to these saluage parts, And with sweet science mollifide their stubborne harts.

Ensample of his wondrous faculty, xxvi Behold the boyling Bathes at Cairbadon, Which seeth with secret fire eternally, And in their entrails, full of quicke Brimston, Nourish the flames, which they are warm’d vpon, That to their[778] people wealth they forth do well, And health to euery forreine nation: Yet he at last contending to excell The reach of men, through flight into fond mischief fell. Next him king Leyr in happie peace long raind, xxvii But had no issue male him to succeed, But three faire daughters, which were well vptraind, In all that seemed fit for kingly seed: Mongst whom his realme he equally decreed To haue diuided. Tho when feeble age Nigh to his vtmost date he saw proceed, He cald his daughters; and with speeches sage Inquyrd, which of them most did loue her parentage. The eldest Gonorill[779] gan to protest, xxviii That she much more then her owne life him lou’d: And Regan greater loue to him profest, Then all the world, when euer it were proou’d; But Cordeill said she lou’d him, as behoou’d: Whose simple answere, wanting colours faire To paint it forth, him to displeasance moou’d, That in his crowne he counted her no haire, But twixt the other twaine his kingdome whole did shaire. So wedded th’one to Maglan king of Scots, xxix And th’other to the king of Cambria, And twixt them shayrd his realme by equall lots: But without dowre the wise Cordelia[780] Was sent to Aganip of Celtica. Their aged Syre, thus eased of his crowne, A priuate life led in Albania, With Gonorill, long had in great renowne, That nought him grieu’d to bene from rule deposed downe.

But true it is, that when the oyle is spent, xxx The light goes out, and weeke[781] is throwne away; So when he had resigned his regiment, His daughter gan despise his drouping day, And wearie waxe[782] of his continuall stay. Tho to his daughter Regan[783] he repayrd, Who him at first well vsed euery way; But when of his departure she despayrd, Her bountie she abated, and his cheare empayrd. The wretched man gan then auise too late, xxxi That loue is not, where most it is profest, Too truely tryde in his extreamest state; At last resolu’d likewise to proue the rest, He to Cordelia him selfe addrest, Who with entire affection him receau’d, As for her Syre and king her seemed best; And after all an army strong she leau’d, To war on those, which him had of his realme bereau’d. So to his crowne she him restor’d againe, xxxii In which he dyde, made ripe for death by eld, And after wild, it should to her remaine: Who peaceably the same long time did weld: And all mens harts in dew obedience held: Till that her sisters children, woxen strong Through proud ambition, against her rebeld, And ouercommen kept in prison long, Till wearie of that wretched life, her selfe she hong. Then gan the bloudie brethren both to raine: xxxiii But fierce Cundah gan shortly to enuie His brother Morgan, prickt with proud disdaine, To haue a pere in part of soueraintie, And kindling coles of cruell enmitie, Raisd warre, and him in battell ouerthrew: Whence as he to those woodie hils did flie, Which hight of him Glamorgan, there him slew: Then did he raigne alone, when he none equall knew.

His sonne Riuallo[784] his dead roome did supply, xxxiv In whose sad time bloud did from heauen raine: Next great Gurgustus, then faire Cæcily In constant peace their kingdomes did containe, After whom Lago, and Kinmarke did raine, And Gorbogud, till farre in yeares he grew: Then[785] his ambitious sonnes vnto them twaine Arraught the rule, and from their father drew, Stout Ferrex and sterne Porrex him in prison threw. But O, the greedy thirst of royall crowne, xxxv That knowes no kinred, nor regardes no right, Stird Porrex vp to put his brother downe; Who vnto him assembling forreine might, Made warre on him, and fell him selfe in fight: Whose death t’auenge, his mother mercilesse, Most mercilesse of women, Wyden hight, Her other sonne fast sleeping did oppresse, And with most cruell hand him murdred pittilesse. Here ended Brutus sacred progenie, xxxvi Which had seuen hundred yeares this scepter borne, With high renowme, and great felicitie;[786] The noble braunch from th’antique stocke was torne Through discord, and the royall throne forlorne: Thenceforth this Realme was into factions rent, Whilest each of Brutus boasted to be borne, That in the end was left no moniment Of Brutus, nor of Britons glory auncient. Then vp arose a man of matchlesse might, xxxvii And wondrous wit to menage high affaires, Who stird with[787] pitty of the stressed plight Of this sad Realme, cut into sundry shaires By such, as claymd themselues Brutes rightfull haires, Gathered the Princes of the people loose, To taken counsell of their common cares; Who with his wisedom won, him streight did choose Their king, and swore him fealty to win or loose.

Then made he head against his enimies, xxxviii And Ymner slew, of[788] Logris miscreate; Then Ruddoc and proud Stater, both allyes, This of Albanie newly nominate, And that of Cambry king confirmed late, He ouerthrew through his owne valiaunce; Whose countreis he redus’d to quiet state, And shortly brought to ciuill gouernaunce, Now one, which earst were many, made through variaunce. Then made he sacred lawes, which some men say xxxix Were vnto him reueald in vision, By which he freed the Traueilers high way, The Churches part, and Ploughmans portion, Restraining stealth, and strong extortion; The gracious Numa of great Britanie: For till his dayes, the chiefe dominion By strength was wielded without pollicie; Therefore he first wore crowne of gold for dignitie. Donwallo dyde (for what may liue for ay?) xl And left two sonnes, of pearelesse prowesse both; That sacked Rome too dearely did assay, The recompence of their periured oth, And ransackt Greece well tryde, when they were wroth; Besides subiected Fraunce, and Germany, Which yet their prayses speake, all be they loth, And inly tremble at the memory Of Brennus and Bellinus, kings of Britany. Next them did Gurgunt[789], great Bellinus sonne xli In rule succeede, and eke in fathers prayse; He Easterland subdewd, and Danmarke[790] wonne, And of them both did foy and tribute raise, The which was dew in his dead fathers dayes: He also gaue to fugitiues of Spayne, Whom he at sea found wandring from their wayes, A seate in Ireland safely to remayne, Which they should hold of him, as subiect to Britayne.

After him raigned Guitheline his hayre, xlii The iustest man and trewest in his dayes, Who had to wife Dame Mertia the fayre, A woman worthy of immortall prayse, Which for this Realme found many goodly layes, And wholesome Statutes to her husband brought; Her many deemd to haue beene of the Fayes, As was Aegerie, that Numa tought; Those yet of her be Mertian lawes both nam’d and thought. Her sonne[791] Sisillus[792] after her did rayne, xliii And then Kimarus, and then Danius; Next whom Morindus did the crowne sustaine, Who, had he not with wrath outrageous, And cruell rancour dim’d his valorous And mightie deeds, should matched haue the best: As well in that same field victorious Against the forreine Morands he exprest; Yet liues his memorie, though carcas sleepe in rest. Fiue sonnes[793] he left begotten of one wife, xliv All which successiuely by turnes did raine; First Gorboman a man of vertuous life; Next Archigald, who for his proud disdaine, Deposed was from Princedome soueraine, And pitteous Elidure put in his sted; Who shortly it to him restord againe, Till by his death he it recouered; But Peridure and Vigent him disthronized. In wretched prison long he did remaine, xlv Till they outraigned had their vtmost date, And then therein reseized was againe, And ruled long with honorable state, Till he surrendred Realme and life to fate. Then all the sonnes of these fiue brethren raynd By dew successe, and all their Nephewes late, Euen thrise eleuen descents the crowne retaynd, Till aged Hely by dew heritage it gaynd.

He had two sonnes, whose eldest called Lud xlvi Left of his life most famous memory, And endlesse moniments of his great good: The ruin’d wals he did reædifye Of Troynouant, gainst force of enimy, And built that gate, which of his name is hight, By which he lyes entombed solemnly. He left two sonnes, too young to rule aright, Androgeus and Tenantius, pictures of his might. Whilst they were young, Cassibalane their Eme xlvii Was by the people chosen in their sted, Who on him tooke the royall Diademe, And goodly well long time it gouerned, Till the prowd Romanes him disquieted, And warlike Cæsar, tempted with the name Of this sweet Island, neuer conquered, And enuying the Britons blazed fame, (O hideous hunger of dominion) hither came. Yet twise they were repulsed backe againe, xlviii And twise renforst, backe to their ships to fly, The whiles with bloud they all the shore did staine, And the gray Ocean into purple dy: Ne had they footing found at last perdie, Had not Androgeus, false to natiue soyle, And enuious of Vncles soueraintie, Betrayd his contrey vnto forreine spoyle: Nought else, but treason, from the first this land did foyle. So by him Cæsar got the victory, xlix Through great bloudshed, and many a sad assay, In which him selfe was charged heauily Of hardy Nennius, whom he yet did slay, But lost his sword, yet to be seene this day. Thenceforth this land was tributarie made T’ambitious Rome, and did their rule obay, Till Arthur all that reckoning defrayd[794]; Yet oft the Briton kings against them strongly swayd.

Next him Tenantius raigned, then Kimbeline, l What time th’eternall Lord in fleshly slime Enwombed was, from wretched Adams line To purge away the guilt of sinfull crime: O ioyous memorie of happy time, That heauenly grace so plenteously displayd; (O too high ditty for my simple rime.) Soone after this the Romanes him warrayd[795]; For that their tribute he refusd to let be payd. Good Claudius, that next was Emperour, li An army brought, and with him battell fought, In which the king was by a Treachetour Disguised slaine, ere any thereof thought: Yet ceased not the bloudy fight for ought; For Aruirage his brothers place supplide, Both in his[796] armes, and crowne, and by that draught Did driue the Romanes to the weaker side, That they to peace agreed. So all was pacifide. Was neuer king more highly magnifide, lii Nor dred of Romanes, then was Aruirage, For which the Emperour to him allide His daughter Genuiss’ in marriage: Yet shortly he renounst the vassalage Of Rome againe, who hither hastly sent Vespasian, that with great spoile and rage Forwasted all, till Genuissa gent Perswaded him to ceasse, and her Lord to relent. He dyde; and him succeeded Marius, liii Who ioyd his dayes in[797] great tranquillity, Then Coyll, and after him good Lucius, That first receiued Christianitie, The sacred pledge of Christes Euangely; Yet true it is, that long before that day Hither came Ioseph of Arimathy, Who brought with him the holy grayle, (they say) And preacht the truth, but since it greatly did decay.

This good king shortly without issew dide, liv Whereof great trouble in the kingdome grew, That did her selfe in sundry parts diuide, And with her powre her owne selfe ouerthrew, Whilest Romanes dayly did the weake subdew: Which seeing stout Bunduca, vp arose, And taking armes, the Britons to her drew; With whom she marched streight against her foes, And them vnwares besides the Seuerne did enclose. There she with them a cruell battell tride, lv Not with so good successe, as she deseru’d; By reason that the Captaines on her side, Corrupted by Paulinus, from her sweru’d: Yet such, as were through former flight preseru’d[798], Gathering againe, her Host she did renew, And with fresh courage on the victour seru’d: But being all defeated, saue a few, Rather then fly, or be captiu’d her selfe she slew. O famous moniment of womens prayse, lvi Matchable either to Semiramis, Whom antique history so high doth raise, Or to Hypsiphil’ or to Thomiris: Her Host two hundred thousand numbred is; Who whiles good fortune fauoured her might, Triumphed oft against her enimis; And yet though ouercome in haplesse fight, She triumphed on death, in enemies despight. Her reliques Fulgent hauing gathered, lvii Fought with Seuerus, and him ouerthrew; Yet in the chace was slaine of them, that fled: So made them victours, whom he did subdew. Then gan Carausius tirannize anew, And gainst the Romanes bent their proper powre, But him Allectus treacherously slew, And took on him the robe of Emperoure: Nath’lesse the same enioyed but short happy howre:

For Asclepiodate him ouercame, lviii And left inglorious on the vanquisht playne, Without or robe, or rag, to hide his shame. Then afterwards he in his stead did rayne; But shortly was by Coyll in battell slaine: Who after long debate, since Lucies time, Was of the Britons first crownd Soueraine: Then gan this Realme renewe her passed prime: He of his name Coylchester built of stone and lime. Which when the Romanes heard, they hither sent lix Constantius, a man of mickle might, With whom king Coyll made an agreement, And to him gaue for wife his daughter bright, Faire Helena, the fairest liuing wight; Who in all godly thewes, and goodly prayse Did far excell, but was most famous hight For skill in Musicke of all in her dayes, Aswell in curious instruments, as cunning layes. Of whom he did great Constantine beget, lx Who afterward was Emperour of Rome; To which whiles absent he his mind did set, Octauius here lept into his roome, And it vsurped by vnrighteous doome: But he his title iustifide by might, Slaying Traherne, and hauing ouercome The Romane legion in dreadfull fight: So settled he his kingdome, and confirmd his right. But wanting issew male, his daughter deare[799] lxi He gaue in wedlocke to Maximian, And him with her made of his kingdome heyre, Who soone by meanes thereof the Empire wan, Till murdred by the friends of Gratian; Then gan the Hunnes and Picts inuade this land, During the raigne of Maximinian; Who dying left none heire them to withstand, But that they ouerran all parts with easie hand.

The weary Britons, whose war-hable youth lxii Was by Maximian lately led away, With wretched miseries, and woefull ruth, Were to those Pagans made an open pray, And dayly spectacle of sad decay: Whom Romane warres, which now foure hundred yeares, And more had wasted, could no whit dismay; Till by consent of Commons and of Peares, They crownd the second Constantine with ioyous teares, Who hauing oft in battell vanquished lxiii Those spoilefull Picts, and swarming Easterlings, Long time in peace his Realme established, Yet oft annoyd with sundry bordragings Of neighbour Scots, and forrein Scatterlings, With which the world did in those dayes abound: Which to outbarre, with painefull pyonings From sea to sea he heapt a mightie mound, Which from Alcluid to Panwelt did that border bound. Three sonnes he dying left, all vnder age; lxiv By meanes whereof, their vncle Vortigere Vsurpt the crowne, during their pupillage; Which th’Infants tutors gathering to feare, Them closely into Armorick did beare: For dread of whom, and for those Picts annoyes, He sent to Germanie, straunge aid to reare, From whence eftsoones arriued here three hoyes Of Saxons, whom he for his safetie imployes. Two brethren were their Capitains[800], which hight lxv Hengist and Horsus, well approu’d in warre, And both of them men of renowmed might; Who making vantage of their ciuill iarre, And of those forreiners, which came from farre, Grew great, and got large portions of land, That in the Realme ere long they stronger arre, Then they which sought at first their helping hand, And Vortiger enforst[801] the kingdome to aband.

But by the helpe of Vortimere his sonne, lxvi He is againe vnto his rule restord, And Hengist seeming sad, for that was donne, Receiued is to grace and new accord, Through his faire daughters face, and flattring word; Soone after which, three hundred Lordes he slew Of British bloud, all sitting at his bord; Whose dolefull moniments who list to rew, Th’eternall markes of treason may at Stonheng vew. By this the sonnes of Constantine, which fled, lxvii Ambrose[802] and Vther did ripe years attaine, And here arriuing, strongly challenged The crowne, which Vortiger did long detaine: Who flying from his guilt, by them was slaine, And Hengist eke soone brought to shamefull death. Thenceforth Aurelius peaceably did rayne, Till that through poyson stopped was his breath; So now entombed lyes at Stoneheng by the heath. After him Vther, which Pendragon hight, lxviii Succeding There abruptly it did end, Without full point, or other Cesure right, As if the rest some wicked hand did rend, Or th’Authour selfe could not at least attend To finish it: that so vntimely breach The Prince him selfe halfe seemeth[803] to offend, Yet secret pleasure did offence empeach, And wonder of antiquitie long stopt his speach. At last quite rauisht with delight, to heare lxix The royall Ofspring of his natiue land, Cryde out, Deare countrey, O how dearely deare Ought thy remembraunce, and perpetuall band Be to thy foster Childe, that from thy hand Did commun breath and nouriture receaue? How brutish is it not to vnderstand, How much to her we owe, that all vs gaue, That gaue vnto vs all, what euer good we haue.

But Guyon all this while his booke did read, lxx Ne yet has ended: for it was a great And ample volume, that doth far excead My leasure, so long leaues here to repeat: It told, how first Prometheus did create A man, of many partes from beasts deriued, And then stole fire from heauen, to animate His worke, for which he was by Ioue depriued Of life him selfe, and hart-strings of an Ægle riued. That man so made, he called Elfe, to weet lxxi Quick, the first authour of all Elfin kind: Who wandring through the world with wearie feet, Did in the gardins of Adonis find A goodly creature, whom he deemd in mind To be no earthly wight, but either Spright, Or Angell, th’authour of all woman kind; Therefore a Fay he her according hight, Of whom all Faeryes spring, and fetch their lignage right. Of these a mightie people shortly grew, lxxii And puissaunt kings, which all the world warrayd, And to them selues all Nations did subdew: The first and eldest, which that scepter swayd, Was Elfin; him all India obayd, And all that now America men call: Next him was noble Elfinan, who layd Cleopolis foundation first of all: But Elfiline enclosd it with a golden wall. His sonne was Elfinell, who ouercame lxxiii The wicked Gobbelines in bloudy field: But Elfant was of most renowmed fame, Who all of Christall did Panthea build: Then Elfar, who two brethren gyants kild, The one of which had two heads, th’other three: Then Elfinor, who was in Magick skild; He built by art vpon the glassy See A bridge of bras, whose sound heauens thunder seem’d to bee.

He left three sonnes, the which in order raynd, lxiv And all their Ofspring, in their dew descents, Euen seuen hundred Princes, which maintaynd With mightie deedes their sundry gouernments; That were too long their infinite contents Here to record, ne much materiall: Yet should they be most famous moniments, And braue ensample, both of martiall, And ciuill rule to kings and states imperiall. After all these Elficleos did rayne, lxxv The wise Elficleos in great Maiestie, Who mightily that scepter did sustayne, And with rich spoiles and famous victorie, Did high aduaunce the crowne of Faery: He left two sonnes, of which faire Elferon The eldest brother did vntimely dy; Whose emptie place the mightie Oberon Doubly supplide, in spousall, and dominion. Great was his power and glorie ouer all, lxxvi Which him before, that sacred seate did fill, That yet remaines his wide memoriall: He dying left the fairest Tanaquill, Him to succeede therein, by his last will: Fairer and nobler liueth none this howre, Ne like in grace, ne like in learned skill; Therefore they Glorian call that glorious flowre, Long mayst thou Glorian liue, in glory and great powre. Beguild thus with delight of nouelties, lxxvii And naturall desire of countreys state, So long they red in those antiquities, That how the time was fled, they quite forgate, Till gentle Alma seeing it so late, Perforce their studies broke, and them besought To thinke, how supper did them long awaite. So halfe vnwilling from their bookes them brought, And fairely feasted, as so noble knights she ought.

The enimies of Temperaunce besiege her dwelling place: Prince Arthur them repelles, and fowle Maleger doth deface.

What warre so cruell, or what siege so sore, i As that, which strong affections do apply Against the fort of reason euermore To bring the soule into captiuitie: Their force is fiercer through infirmitie Of the fraile flesh, relenting to their rage, And exercise most bitter tyranny Vpon the parts, brought into their bondage: No wretchednesse is like to sinfull vellenage. But in a body, which doth freely yeeld ii His partes to reasons rule obedient, And letteth her that ought the scepter weeld, All happy peace and goodly gouernment Is setled there in sure establishment; There Alma like a virgin Queene most bright, Doth florish in all beautie excellent: And to her guestes doth bounteous banket dight, Attempred goodly well for health and for delight[804]. Early before the Morne with cremosin ray, iii The windowes of bright heauen opened had, Through which into the world the dawning day Might looke, that maketh euery creature glad, Vprose Sir Guyon, in bright armour clad, And to his purposd iourney him prepar’d: With him the Palmer eke in habit sad, Him selfe addrest to that aduenture hard: So to the riuers side they both together far’d.

Where them awaited ready at the ford iv The Ferriman, as Alma had behight, With his well rigged boate: They go abord, And he[805] eftsoones gan launch his barke forthright. Ere long they rowed were quite out of sight, And fast the land behind them fled away. But let them pas, whiles wind and weather right Do serue their turnes: here I a while must stay, To see a cruell fight doen by the Prince this day. For all so soone, as Guyon thence was gon v Vpon his voyage with his trustie guide, That wicked band of villeins fresh begon That castle to assaile on euery side, And lay strong siege about it far and wide. So huge and infinite their numbers were, That all the land they vnder them did hide; So fowle and vgly, that exceeding feare Their visages imprest, when they approched neare. Them in twelue troupes their Captain did dispart vi And round about in fittest steades did place, Where each might best offend his proper part, And his contrary obiect most deface, As euery one seem’d meetest in that cace. Seuen of the same against the Castle gate, In strong entrenchments he did closely place, Which with incessaunt force and endlesse hate, They battred day and night, and entraunce did awate. The other fiue, fiue sundry wayes he set, vii Against the fiue great Bulwarkes of that pile, And vnto each a Bulwarke did arret, T’assayle with open force or hidden guile, In hope thereof to win victorious spoile. They all that charge did feruently apply, With greedie malice and importune toyle, And planted there their huge artillery, With which they dayly made most dreadfull battery.

The first troupe was a monstrous rablement viii Of fowle misshapen wights, of which some were Headed like Owles, with beckes[806] vncomely bent, Others like Dogs, others like Gryphons dreare, And some had wings, and some had clawes to teare, And euery one of them had Lynces eyes, And euery one did bow and arrowes beare: All those were lawlesse lustes, corrupt enuies, And couetous aspectes, all cruell enimies. Those same against the bulwarke of the Sight ix Did lay strong siege, and battailous assault, Ne once did yield it respit day nor night, But soone as Titan gan his head exault, And soone againe as he his light with hault, Their wicked engins they against it bent: That is each thing, by which the eyes may fault, But two then all more huge and violent, Beautie, and money, they that Bulwarke sorely rent[807]. The second Bulwarke was the Hearing sence, x Gainst which the second troupe dessignment[808] makes; Deformed creatures, in straunge difference, Some hauing heads like Harts, some like to Snakes, Some like wild Bores late rouzd out of the brakes; Slaunderous reproches, and fowle infamies, Leasings, backbytings, and vaine-glorious crakes, Bad counsels, prayses, and false flatteries. All those against that fort did bend their batteries. Likewise that same third Fort, that is the Smell xi Of that third troupe was cruelly assayd: Whose hideous shapes were like to feends of hell, Some like to hounds, some like to Apes, dismayd[809], Some like to Puttockes, all in plumes arayd: All shap’t according their conditions, For by those vgly formes weren pourtrayd, Foolish delights and fond abusions, Which do that sence besiege with light illusions.

And that fourth band, which cruell battry bent, xii Against the fourth Bulwarke, that is the Tast, Was as the rest, a grysie rablement, Some mouth’d like greedy Oystriges, some fast[810] Like loathly Toades, some fashioned in the wast Like swine; for so deformd is luxury, Surfeat[811], misdiet, and vnthriftie wast, Vaine feasts, and idle superfluity: All those this sences Fort assayle incessantly. But the fift troupe most horrible of hew, xiii And fierce of force, was[812] dreadfull to report: For some like Snailes, some did like spyders shew, And some like vgly Vrchins thicke and short: Cruelly they[813] assayled[814] that fift Fort, Armed with darts of sensuall delight, With stings of carnall lust, and strong effort Of feeling pleasures, with which day and night Against that same fift bulwarke they continued fight. Thus these twelue troupes with dreadfull puissance xiv Against that Castle restlesse siege did lay, And euermore their hideous Ordinance Vpon the Bulwarkes cruelly did play, That now it gan to threaten neare decay: And euermore their wicked Capitaine Prouoked them the breaches to assay, Somtimes with threats, somtimes with hope of gaine, Which by the ransack of that peece they should attaine. On th’other side, th’assieged Castles ward xv Their stedfast stonds did mightily maintaine, And many bold repulse, and many hard Atchieuement wrought with perill and with paine, That goodly frame from ruine to sustaine: And those two brethren Giants did defend The walles so stoutly with their sturdie maine, That neuer entrance any durst pretend, But they to direfull death their groning ghosts did send.

The noble virgin, Ladie of the place[815], xvi Was much dismayed with that dreadfull sight: For neuer was she in so euill cace, Till that the Prince seeing her wofull plight, Gan her recomfort from so sad affright, Offring his seruice, and his dearest life For her defence, against that Carle to fight, Which was their chiefe and th’author of that strife: She him remercied as the Patrone of her life. Eftsoones himselfe in glitterand armes he dight, xvii And his well proued weapons to him hent; So taking courteous conge he behight, Those gates to be vnbar’d, and forth he went. Faire mote he thee, the prowest and most gent, That euer brandished bright steele on hye: Whom soone as that vnruly rablement, With his gay Squire issuing did espy, They reard a most outrageous dreadfull yelling cry. And therewith all attonce at him let fly xviii Their fluttring arrowes, thicke as flakes of snow, And round about him flocke impetuously, Like a great water flood, that tombling low From the high mountaines, threats to ouerflow With suddein fury all the fertile plaine, And the sad husbandmans long hope doth throw A downe the streame, and all his vowes make vaine, Nor bounds nor banks his headlong ruine may sustaine. Vpon his shield their heaped hayle he bore, xix And with his sword disperst the raskall flockes, Which fled a sunder, and him fell before, As withered leaues drop from their dried stockes, When the wroth Western wind does reaue their locks; And vnder neath him his courageous steed, The fierce Spumador trode them downe like docks, The fierce Spumador borne of heauenly seed: Such as Laomedon of Phœbus race did breed.

Which suddeine horrour and confused cry, xx When as their Captaine heard, in haste he yode, The cause to weet, and fault to remedy; Vpon a Tygre swift and fierce he rode, That as the winde ran vnderneath his lode, Whiles his long legs nigh raught vnto the ground; Full large he was of limbe, and shoulders brode, But of such subtile substance and vnsound, That like a ghost he seem’d, whose graue-clothes were vnbound. And in his hand a bended bow was seene, xxi And many arrowes vnder his right side, All deadly daungerous, all cruell keene, Headed with flint, and feathers bloudie dide, Such as the Indians in their quiuers hide; Those could he well direct and streight as line, And bid them strike the marke, which he had eyde, Ne was their salue, ne was their medicine, That mote recure their wounds: so inly they did tine. As pale and wan as ashes was his looke, xxii His bodie leane and meagre as a rake, And skin all withered like a dryed rooke, Thereto as cold and drery as a Snake, That seem’d to tremble euermore, and quake: All in a canuas thin he was bedight, And girded with a belt of twisted brake, Vpon his head he wore an Helmet light, Made of a dead mans skull, that seem’d a ghastly sight. Maleger was his name, and after him, xxiii There follow’d fast at hand two wicked Hags, With hoarie lockes all loose, and visage grim; Their feet vnshod, their bodies wrapt in rags, And both as swift on foot, as chased Stags; And yet the one her other legge had lame, Which with a staffe, all full of litle snags She did support[816], and Impotence her name: But th’other was Impatience, arm’d with raging flame.

Soone as the Carle from farre the Prince espyde, xxiv Glistring in armes and warlike ornament, His Beast he felly prickt on either syde, And his mischieuous bow full readie bent, With which at him a cruell shaft he sent: But he was warie, and it warded well Vpon his shield, that it no further went, But to the ground the idle quarrell fell: Then he another and another did expell. Which to preuent, the Prince his mortall speare xxv Soone to him raught, and fierce at him did ride, To be auenged of that shot whyleare: But he was not so hardie to abide That bitter stownd, but turning quicke aside His light-foot beast, fled fast away for feare: Whom to pursue, the Infant after hide, So fast as his good Courser could him beare, But labour lost it was, to weene approch him neare. For as the winged wind his Tigre fled, xxvi That vew of eye could scarse him ouertake, Ne scarse his feet on ground were seene to tred; Through hils and dales he speedie way did make, Ne hedge ne ditch his readie passage brake, And in his flight the villein turn’d his face, (As wonts the Tartar by the Caspian lake, When as the Russian him in fight does chace) Vnto his Tygres taile, and shot at him apace. Apace he shot, and yet he fled apace, xxvii Still as the greedy knight nigh to him drew, And oftentimes he would relent his pace, That him his foe more fiercely should pursew: Who[817] when his vncouth manner he did vew, He gan auize to follow him no more, But keepe his standing, and his shaftes eschew, Vntill he quite had spent his perlous store, And then assayle him fresh, ere he could shift for more.

But that lame Hag, still as abroad he strew xxviii His wicked arrowes, gathered them againe, And to him brought, fresh battell to renew: Which he espying, cast her to restraine From yielding succour to that cursed Swaine, And her attaching, thought her hands to tye; But soone as him dismounted on the plaine, That other Hag did farre away espy Binding her sister, she to him ran hastily. And catching hold of him, as downe he lent, xxix Him backward ouerthrew, and downe him stayd With their rude hands and griesly graplement, Till that the villein comming to their ayd, Vpon him fell, and lode vpon him layd; Full litle wanted, but he had him slaine, And of the battell balefull end had made, Had not his gentle Squire beheld his paine, And commen to his reskew, ere his bitter bane. So greatest and most glorious thing on ground xxx May often need the helpe of weaker hand; So feeble is mans state, and life vnsound, That in assurance it may neuer stand, Till it dissolued be from earthly band. Proofe be thou Prince, the prowest man aliue, And noblest borne of all in Britayne[818] land; Yet thee fierce Fortune did so nearely driue, That had not grace thee blest, thou shouldest not suruiue[819]. The Squire arriuing, fiercely in his armes xxxi Snatcht first the one, and then the other Iade, His chiefest lets and authors of his harmes, And them perforce withheld with threatned blade, Least that his Lord they should behind inuade; The whiles the Prince prickt with reprochfull shame, As one awakt out of long slombring shade, Reuiuing thought of glorie and of fame, Vnited all his powres to purge himselfe from blame.

Like as a fire, the which in hollow caue xxxii Hath long bene vnderkept, and downe supprest, With murmurous disdaine doth inly raue, And grudge, in so streight prison to be prest, At last breakes forth with furious vnrest[820], And striues to mount vnto his natiue seat; All that did earst it hinder and molest, It now deuoures with flames and scorching heat, And carries into smoake with rage and horror great. So mightily the Briton Prince him rouzd xxxiii Out of his hold, and broke his caitiue bands, And as a Beare whom angry curres haue touzd, Hauing off-shakt them, and escapt their hands, Becomes more fell, and all that him withstands Treads downe and ouerthrowes. Now had the Carle Alighted from his Tigre, and his hands Discharged of his bow and deadly quar’le, To seize vpon his foe flat lying on the marle. Which now him turnd to disauantage deare; xxxiv For neither can he fly, nor other harme, But trust vnto his strength and manhood meare, Sith now he is farre from his monstrous swarme, And of his weapons did himselfe disarme. The knight yet wrothfull for his late disgrace, Fiercely aduaunst his valorous right arme, And him so sore smote with his yron mace, That groueling to the ground he fell, and fild his place. Well weened he, that field was then his owne, xxxv And all his labour brought to happie end, When suddein vp the villein ouerthrowne, Out of his swowne arose, fresh to contend, And gan himselfe to second battell bend, As hurt he had not bene. Thereby there lay An huge great stone, which stood vpon one end, And had not bene remoued many a day; Some land-marke seem’d to be, or signe of sundry way.

The same he snatcht, and with exceeding sway xxxvi Threw at his foe, who was right well aware To shunne the engin of his meant decay; It booted not to thinke that throw to beare, But ground he gaue, and lightly leapt areare: Eft fierce returning, as a Faulcon faire That once hath failed of her souse full neare, Remounts againe into the open aire, And vnto better fortune doth her selfe prepaire. So braue returning, with his brandisht blade, xxxvii He to the Carle himselfe againe addrest, And strooke at him so sternely, that he made An open passage through his riuen brest, That halfe the steele behind his back did rest; Which drawing backe, he looked euermore When the hart bloud should gush out of his chest, Or his dead corse should fall vpon the flore; But his dead corse vpon the flore fell nathemore. Ne drop of bloud appeared shed to bee, xxxviii All were the wounde so wide and wonderous, That through his carkasse one might plainely see: Halfe in a maze with horror hideous, And halfe in rage, to be deluded thus, Againe through both the sides he strooke him quight, That made his spright to grone full piteous: Yet nathemore forth fled his groning spright, But freshly as at first, prepard himselfe to fight. Thereat he smitten was with great affright, xxxix And trembling terror did his hart apall, Ne wist he, what to thinke of that same sight, Ne what to say, ne what to doe at all; He doubted, least it were some magicall Illusion, that did beguile his sense, Or wandring ghost, that wanted funerall, Or aerie spirit vnder false pretence, Or hellish feend raysd vp through diuelish science.

His wonder farre exceeded reasons reach, xl That he began to doubt his dazeled sight, And oft of error did himselfe appeach: Flesh without bloud, a person without spright, Wounds without hurt, a bodie without might, That could doe harme, yet could not harmed bee, That could not die, yet seem’d a mortall wight, That was most strong in most infirmitee; Like did he neuer heare, like did he neuer see. A while he stood in this astonishment, xli Yet would he not for all his great dismay Giue ouer to effect his first intent, And th’vtmost meanes of victorie assay, Or th’vtmost issew of his owne decay. His owne good sword Morddure[821], that neuer fayld At need, till now, he lightly threw away, And his bright shield, that nought him now auayld, And with his naked hands him forcibly assayld. Twixt his two mightie armes him vp he snatcht, xlii And crusht his carkasse so against his brest, That the disdainfull soule he thence dispatcht, And th’idle breath all vtterly exprest: Tho when he felt him dead, a downe he kest The lumpish corse vnto the senselesse grownd; Adowne he kest it with so puissant wrest, That backe againe it did aloft rebownd, And gaue against his mother earth a gronefull sownd. As when Ioues harnesse-bearing Bird from hie xliii Stoupes at a flying heron with proud disdaine, The stone-dead quarrey fals so forciblie, That it rebounds against the lowly plaine, A second fall redoubling backe againe. Then thought the Prince all perill sure was past, And that he victor onely did remaine; No sooner thought, then that the Carle as fast Gan heap huge strokes on him, as ere he downe was cast.

Nigh his wits end then woxe th’amazed knight, xliv And thought his labour lost and trauell vaine, Against this[822] lifelesse shadow so to fight: Yet life he saw, and felt his mightie maine, That whiles he marueild still, did still him paine: For thy he gan some other wayes aduize, How to take life from that dead-liuing swaine, Whom still he marked freshly to arize From th’earth, and from her wombe new spirits to reprize. He then remembred well, that had bene sayd, xlv How th’Earth his mother was, and first him bore; She eke so often, as his life decayd, Did life with vsury to him restore, And raysd him vp much stronger then before, So soone as he vnto her wombe did fall; Therefore to ground he would him cast no more, Ne him commit to graue terrestriall, But beare him farre from hope of succour vsuall. Tho vp he caught him twixt his puissant hands, xlvi And hauing scruzd out of his carrion corse The lothfull life, now loosd from sinfull bands, Vpon his shoulders carried him perforse Aboue three furlongs, taking his full course, Vntill he came vnto a standing lake; Him thereinto he threw without remorse, Ne stird, till hope of life did him forsake; So end of that Carles dayes, and his owne paines did make. Which when those wicked Hags from farre did spy, xlvii Like two mad dogs they ran about the lands, And th’one of them with dreadfull yelling cry, Throwing away her broken chaines and bands, And hauing quencht her burning fier brands, Hedlong her selfe did cast into that lake; But Impotence with her owne wilfull hands, One of Malegers cursed darts did take, So riu’d her trembling hart, and wicked end did make.

Thus now alone he conquerour remaines; xlviii Tho comming to his Squire, that kept his steed, Thought to haue mounted, but his feeble vaines Him faild thereto, and serued not his need, Through losse of bloud, which from his wounds did bleed, That he began to faint, and life decay: But his good Squire him helping vp with speed, With stedfast hand vpon his horse did stay, And led him to the Castle by the beaten way. Where many Groomes and Squiers readie were, xlix To take him from his steed full tenderly, And eke the fairest Alma met him there With balme and wine and costly spicery, To comfort him in his infirmity; Eftsoones she causd him vp to be conuayd, And of his armes despoyled easily, In sumptuous bed she made him to be layd, And all the while his wounds were dressing, by him stayd.

Guyon, by[823] Palmers gouernance, passing through[824] perils great, Doth ouerthrow the Bowre of blisse, and Acrasie defeat.

Now gins this goodly frame of Temperance i Fairely to rise, and her adorned hed To pricke of highest praise forth to aduance, Formerly[825] grounded, and fast setteled On firme foundation of true bountihed; And this braue knight, that for that[826] vertue fights, Now comes to point of that same perilous sted, Where Pleasure dwelles in sensuall delights, Mongst thousand dangers, and ten thousand magick mights.

Two dayes now in that sea he sayled has, ii Ne euer land beheld, ne liuing wight, Ne ought saue perill, still as he did pas: Tho when appeared the third Morrow bright, Vpon the waues to spred her trembling light, An hideous roaring farre away they heard, That all their senses filled with affright, And streight they saw the raging surges reard Vp to the skyes, that them of drowning made affeard. Said then the Boteman, Palmer stere aright, iii And keepe an euen course; for yonder way We needes must passe (God do vs well acquight,) That is the Gulfe of Greedinesse, they say, That deepe engorgeth all this worldes pray: Which hauing swallowd vp excessiuely, He soone in vomit vp againe doth lay, And belcheth forth his superfluity, That all the seas for feare do[827] seeme away to fly. On th’other side an hideous Rocke is pight, iv Of mightie Magnes stone, whose craggie clift Depending from on high, dreadfull to sight, Ouer the waues his rugged armes doth lift, And threatneth downe to throw his ragged rift On who so commeth nigh; yet nigh it drawes All passengers, that none from it can shift: For whiles they fly that Gulfes deuouring iawes, They on this rock are rent, and sunck in helplesse wawes. Forward they passe, and strongly he them rowes, v Vntill they nigh vnto that Gulfe arriue, Where streame more violent and greedy growes: Then he with all his puissance doth striue To strike his oares, and mightily doth driue The hollow vessell through the threatfull waue, Which gaping wide, to swallow them aliue, In th’huge abysse of his engulfing graue, Doth rore at them in vaine, and with great terror raue.

They passing by, that griesly mouth did see, vi Sucking the seas into his entralles deepe, That seem’d more horrible then hell to bee, Or that darke dreadfull hole of Tartare steepe, Through which the damned ghosts doen often creepe Backe to the world, bad liuers to torment: But nought that falles into this direfull deepe, Ne that approcheth nigh the wide descent, May backe returne, but is condemned to be drent. On th’other side, they saw that perilous Rocke, vii Threatning it selfe on them to ruinate, On whose sharpe clifts the ribs of vessels broke, And shiuered ships, which had bene wrecked late, Yet stuck, with carkasses exanimate Of such, as hauing all their substance spent In wanton ioyes, and lustes intemperate, Did afterwards make shipwracke violent, Both of their life, and fame for euer fowly blent. For thy, this hight The Rocke of vile Reproch, viii A daungerous and detestable place, To which nor fish nor fowle did once approch, But yelling Meawes, with Seagulles hoarse and bace, And Cormoyrants, with birds of rauenous race, Which still sate waiting[828] on that wastfull clift, For spoyle of wretches, whose vnhappie cace, After lost credite and consumed thrift, At last them driuen hath to this despairefull drift. The Palmer seeing them in safetie past, ix Thus said; Behold[829] th’ensamples in our sights, Of lustfull luxurie and thriftlesse wast: What now is left of miserable wights, Which spent their looser daies in lewd delights, But shame and sad reproch, here to be red, By these rent reliques, speaking their ill plights? Let all that liue, hereby be counselled, To shunne Rocke of Reproch, and it as death to dred.

So forth they rowed, and that Ferryman x With his stiffe oares did brush the sea so strong, That the hoare waters from his frigot ran, And the light bubbles daunced all along, Whiles the salt brine out of the billowes sprong. At last farre off they many Islands spy, On euery side floting the floods emong: Then said the knight, Loe I the land descry, Therefore old Syre thy course do thereunto apply. That may not be, said then the Ferryman xi Least we vnweeting hap to be fordonne: For those same Islands, seeming now and than, Are not firme lande, nor any certein wonne, But straggling plots, which to and fro do ronne In the wide waters: therefore are they hight The wandring Islands. Therefore doe them shonne; For they haue oft drawne many a wandring wight Into most deadly daunger and distressed plight. Yet well they seeme to him, that farre doth vew, xii Both faire and fruitfull, and the ground dispred[830] With grassie greene of delectable hew, And the tall trees with leaues apparelled, Are deckt with blossomes dyde in white and red, That mote the passengers thereto allure; But whosoeuer once hath fastened His foot thereon, may neuer it recure, But wandreth euer more vncertein and vnsure. As th’Isle of Delos whylome men report xiii Amid th’Aegæan sea long time did stray, Ne made for shipping any certaine port, Till that Latona traueiling that way, Flying from Iunoes wrath and hard assay, Of her faire twins was there deliuered, Which afterwards did rule the night and day; Thenceforth it firmely was established, And for Apolloes honor[831] highly herried.

They to him hearken, as beseemeth meete, xiv And passe on forward: so their way does ly, That one of those same Islands, which doe fleet In the wide sea, they needes must passen by, Which seemd so sweet and pleasant to the eye, That it would tempt a man to touchen there: Vpon the banck they sitting did espy A daintie damzell, dressing of her heare, By whom a litle skippet floting did appeare. She them espying, loud to them can[832] call, xv Bidding them nigher draw vnto the shore; For she had cause to busie them withall; And therewith loudly laught: But nathemore Would they once turne, but kept on as afore: Which when she saw, she left her lockes vndight, And running to her boat withouten ore From the departing land it launched light, And after them did driue with all her power and might. Whom ouertaking, she in merry sort xvi Them gan to bord, and purpose diuersly, Now faining dalliance and wanton sport, Now throwing forth lewd words immodestly; Till that the Palmer gan full bitterly Her to rebuke, for being loose and light: Which not abiding, but more scornefully Scoffing at him, that did her iustly wite, She turnd her bote about, and from them rowed quite. That was the wanton Phœdria, which late xvii Did ferry him ouer the Idle lake: Whom nought regarding, they kept on their gate, And all her vaine allurements did forsake, When them the wary Boateman thus bespake; Here now behoueth vs well to auyse, And of our safetie good heede to take; For here before a perlous passage lyes, Where many Mermayds haunt, making false melodies.

But by the way, there is a great Quicksand, xviii And a whirlepoole of hidden ieopardy, Therefore, Sir Palmer, keepe an euen hand; For twixt them both the narrow way doth ly. Scarse had he said, when hard at hand they spy That quicksand nigh with water couered; But by the checked waue they did descry It plaine, and by the sea discoloured: It called was the quicksand of Vnthriftyhed. They passing by, a goodly Ship did see, xix Laden from far with precious merchandize, And brauely furnished, as ship might bee, Which through great disauenture, or mesprize[833], Her selfe had runne into that hazardize; Whose mariners and merchants with much toyle, Labour’d in vaine, to haue recur’d their prize, And the rich wares to saue from pitteous spoyle, But neither toyle nor trauell might her backe recoyle. On th’other side they see that perilous Poole, xx That called was the Whirlepoole of decay, In which full many had with haplesse doole Beene suncke, of whom no memorie did stay: Whose circled waters rapt with whirling sway, Like to a restlesse wheele, still running round, Did couet, as they passed by that way, To draw their[834] boate within the vtmost bound Of his wide Labyrinth, and then to haue them dround. But th’heedfull[835] Boateman strongly forth did stretch xxi His brawnie armes, and all his body straine, That th’vtmost sandy breach they shortly fetch, Whiles the dred daunger does behind remaine. Suddeine they see from midst of all the Maine, The surging waters like a mountaine rise, And the great sea puft vp with proud disdaine, To swell aboue the measure of his guise, As threatning to deuoure all, that his powre despise.

The waues come rolling, and the billowes rore xxii Outragiously, as they enraged were, Or wrathfull Neptune did them driue before His whirling charet, for exceeding feare: For not one puffe of wind there did appeare, That all the three thereat woxe much afrayd, Vnweeting, what such horrour straunge did reare. Eftsoones they saw an hideous hoast arrayd, Of huge Sea monsters, such as liuing sence dismayd. Most vgly shapes, and horrible aspects, xxiii Such as Dame Nature selfe mote feare to see, Or shame, that euer should so fowle defects From her most cunning hand escaped bee; All dreadfull pourtraicts of deformitee: Spring-headed Hydraes, and sea-shouldring Whales, Great whirlpooles, which all fishes make to flee, Bright Scolopendraes, arm’d with siluer scales, Mighty Monoceroses[836], with immeasured tayles. The dreadfull Fish, that hath deseru’d the name xxiv Of Death, and like him lookes in dreadfull hew, The griesly Wasserman, that makes his game The flying ships with swiftnesse to pursew, The horrible Sea-satyre, that doth shew His fearefull face in time of greatest storme, Huge Ziffius, whom Mariners eschew No lesse, then rockes, (as trauellers informe,) And greedy Rosmarines with visages deforme. All these, and thousand thousands many more, xxv And more deformed Monsters thousand fold, With dreadfull noise, and hollow rombling rore, Came rushing in the fomy waues enrold, Which seem’d to fly for feare, them to behold: Ne wonder, if these did the knight appall; For all that here on earth we dreadfull hold, Be but as bugs to fearen babes withall, Compared to the creatures in the seas entrall.

Feare nought, (then said the Palmer well auiz’d;) xxvi For these same Monsters are not these in deed, But are into these fearefull shapes disguiz’d By that same wicked witch, to worke vs dreed, And draw from on this iourney to proceede. Tho lifting vp his vertuous staffe on hye, He smote the sea, which calmed was with speed, And all that dreadfull Armie fast gan flye Into great Tethys bosome, where they hidden lye. Quit from that daunger, forth their course they kept, xxvii And as they went, they heard a ruefull cry Of one, that wayld and pittifully[837] wept, That through the sea the resounding[838] plaints did fly: At last they in an Island did espy A seemely Maiden, sitting by the shore, That with great sorrow and sad agony, Seemed some great misfortune to deplore, And lowd to them for succour called euermore. Which Guyon hearing, streight his Palmer bad, xxviii To stere the boate towards that dolefull Mayd, That he might know, and ease her sorrow sad: Who him auizing better, to him sayd; Faire Sir, be not displeasd, if disobayd: For ill it were to hearken to her cry; For she is inly nothing ill apayd, But onely womanish fine forgery, Your stubborne hart t’affect with fraile infirmity. To which when she your courage hath inclind xxix Through foolish pitty, then her guilefull bayt She will embosome deeper in your mind, And for your ruine at the last awayt. The knight was ruled, and the Boateman strayt Held on his course with stayed stedfastnesse, Ne euer shruncke, ne euer sought to bayt His tyred armes for toylesome wearinesse, But with his oares did sweepe the watry wildernesse.

And now they nigh approched to the sted, xxx Where as those Mermayds dwelt: it was a still And calmy bay, on th’one side sheltered With the brode shadow of an hoarie hill, On th’other side an high rocke toured still, That twixt them both a pleasaunt[839] port they made, And did like an halfe Theatre fulfill: There those fine sisters had continuall trade, And vsd to bath[840] themselues in that deceiptfull[841] shade. They were faire Ladies, till they fondly striu’d xxxi With th’Heliconian maides for maistery; Of whom they ouer-comen, were depriu’d Of their proud beautie, and th’one moyity Transform’d to fish, for their bold surquedry, But th’vpper halfe their hew retained still, And their sweet skill in wonted melody; Which euer after they abusd to ill, T’allure weake trauellers, whom gotten they did kill. So now to Guyon, as he passed by, xxxii Their pleasaunt tunes they sweetly thus applide; O thou faire sonne of gentle Faery, That[842] art in mighty armes most magnifide Aboue all knights, that euer battell tride, O turne thy rudder hither-ward a while: Here may thy storme-bet vessell safely ride; This is the Port of rest from troublous toyle, The worlds sweet In, from paine and wearisome turmoyle. With that the rolling sea resounding soft, xxxiii In his big base them fitly answered, And on the rocke the waues breaking aloft, A solemne Meane vnto them measured, The whiles sweet Zephirus lowd whisteled His treble, a straunge kinde of harmony; Which Guyons senses softly tickeled, That he the boateman bad row easily, And let him heare some part of their rare melody.

But him the[843] Palmer from that vanity, xxxiv With temperate aduice discounselled, That they it past, and shortly gan descry The land, to which their course they leueled; When suddeinly a grosse fog ouer spred With his dull vapour all that desert has, And heauens chearefull face enueloped, That all things one, and one as nothing was, And this great Vniuerse seemd one confused mas. Thereat they greatly were dismayd, ne wist xxxv How to direct their way in darkenesse wide, But feard to wander in that wastfull mist, For tombling into mischiefe vnespide. Worse is the daunger hidden, then descride. Suddeinly an innumerable flight Of harmefull fowles about them fluttering, cride, And with their wicked wings them oft did smight, And sore annoyed, groping in that griesly night. Euen all the nation of vnfortunate xxxvi And fatall birds about them flocked were, Such as by nature men abhorre and hate, The ill-faste Owle, deaths dreadfull messengere, The hoars Night-rauen, trump of dolefull drere, The lether-winged Bat, dayes enimy, The ruefull Strich, still waiting on the bere, The Whistler shrill, that who so heares, doth dy, The hellish Harpies, prophets of sad destiny. All those, and all that else does horrour breed, xxxvii About them flew, and fild their sayles with feare: Yet stayd they not, but forward did proceed, Whiles th’one did row, and th’other stifly steare; Till that at last the weather gan to cleare, And the faire land it selfe did plainly show. Said then the Palmer, Lo where does appeare The sacred soile, where all our perils grow; Therefore, Sir knight, your ready armes about you throw.

He hearkned, and his armes about him tooke, xxxviii The whiles the nimble boate so well her sped, That with her crooked keele the land she strooke, Then forth the noble Guyon sallied, And his sage Palmer, that him gouerned; But th’other by his boate behind did stay. They marched fairly forth, of nought ydred, Both firmely armd for euery hard assay, With constancy and care, gainst daunger and dismay. Ere long they heard an hideous bellowing xxxix Of many beasts, that roard outrageously, As if that hungers point, or Venus sting Had them enraged with fell surquedry; Yet nought they feard, but past on hardily, Vntill they came in vew of those wild beasts: Who all attonce, gaping full greedily, And rearing fiercely their vpstarting[844] crests, Ran towards, to deuoure those vnexpected guests. But soone as they approcht[845] with deadly threat,[846] xl The Palmer ouer them his staffe vpheld, His mighty staffe, that could all charmes defeat: Eftsoones their stubborne courages were queld, And high aduaunced crests downe meekely feld, In stead of fraying, they them selues did feare, And trembled, as them passing they beheld: Such wondrous powre did in that staffe appeare, All monsters to subdew to him, that did it beare. Of that same wood it fram’d was cunningly, xli Of which Caduceus whilome was made, Caduceus the rod of Mercury, With which he wonts the Stygian realmes inuade, Through ghastly horrour, and eternall shade; Th’ infernall feends with it he can asswage, And Orcus tame, whom nothing can perswade, And rule the Furyes, when they most do rage: Such vertue in his staffe had eke this Palmer sage.

Thence passing forth, they shortly do arriue, xlii Whereas the Bowre of Blisse was situate; A place pickt out by choice of best aliue, That natures worke by art can imitate: In which what euer in this worldly state Is sweet, and pleasing vnto liuing sense, Or that may dayntiest[847] fantasie aggrate, Was poured forth with plentifull dispence, And made there to abound with lauish affluence. Goodly it was enclosed round about, xliii Aswell their entred guestes to keepe within, As those vnruly beasts to hold without; Yet was the fence thereof but weake and thin; Nought feard their[848] force, that fortilage to win, But wisedomes powre, and temperaunces might, By which the mightiest[849] things efforced bin: And eke the gate was wrought of substaunce light, Rather for pleasure, then for battery or fight. Yt framed was of precious yuory, xliv That seemd a worke of admirable wit; And therein all the famous history Of Iason and Medæa was ywrit; Her mighty charmes, her furious louing fit, His goodly conquest of the golden fleece, His falsed faith, and loue too lightly flit, The wondred Argo, which in venturous peece First through the Euxine seas bore all the flowr of Greece. Ye might haue seene the frothy billowes fry xlv Vnder the ship, as thorough them she went, That seemd the waues were into yuory, Or yuory into the waues were sent; And other where the snowy substaunce sprent With vermell, like the boyes bloud therein shed, A piteous spectacle did represent, And otherwhiles with gold besprinkeled; Yt seemd th’enchaunted flame, which did Creüsa wed.