Soone as the carle from far the prince espyde
Glistring in armes and warlike ornament,
His beast he felly prickt on either syde,
And his mischievous bow full readie bept,
With which at him a cruell shaft he sent :
But he was warie, and it warded well
Upon his shield, that it no further went,
But to the ground the idle quarrell fell:
Then he another and another did expell.
Which to prevent, the prince his mortall speare
Soone to him raught, and fierce at him did ride,
To be avenged of that shot whyleare:
But he was not so hardy to abide
That bitter stownd, but, turning quicke aside
His light-foot beast, fled fast away for feare:
Whom to poursue, the infant after hide
So fast as his good courser could him beare;
But labour lost it was to weene approch him neare.
Far as the winged wind his tigre fled,
That yew of eye could scarce him overtake,
Ne scarse his feet on ground were seene to tred;
Through hils and dales he speedy way did make,
Ne hedge ne ditch his readie passage brake,
And in his flight the villeine turn'd his face
(As wonts the Tartar by the Caspian lake,
Whenas the Russian him in fight does chace)
Unto his tygres taile, and shot at him apace.
Apace he shot, and yet he fled apace,
Still as the greedy knight nigh to him drew;
And oftentimes he would relent his pace,
That him his foe more fiercely should poursew:
But, when his uncouth manner he did vew,
He gan avize to follow him no more,
But keepe his standing, and his shaftes eschew,
Untill he quite had spent his perlous store, [more.
And then assayle him fresh, ere he could shift for
But that lame hag, still as abroad he strew
His wicked arrowes, gathered them againe,
And to him brought, fresh batteill 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 bag did far away espye
Binding her sister, she to him ran hastily;
And catching hold of him, as downe he lent,
Him backeward overthrew, and downe him stayd
With their rude handes and gryesly graplement;
Till that the villein, coming to their ayd,
Upon him fell, and lode upon 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
May often need the helpe of weaker hand;
So feeble is mans state, and life unsound,
That in assuraunce it may never stand,
Til it dissolved be from earthly band!
Proofe be thou, prince, the prowest man alyve,
And noblest borne of all in Briton land;
Yet thee fierce Fortune did so nearely drive,
That, had not Grace thee blest, thou shouldest not
survive.
The squyre arriving, fiercely in his armes
Snatcht first the one, and then the other jade,
His chiefest letts and authors of his harmes,
And them perforce withheld with threatned blade,
Least that his lord they should behinde invade;
The whiles the prince, prickt with reprochful shame,
As one awakte out of long slombring shade,
Revivyng thought of glory and of fame,
United all his powres to purge himselfe from blame,
Like as a fire, the which in hollow cave
Hath long bene underkept and down supprest,
With murmurous disdayne doth inly rave,
And grudge, in so streight prison to be prest,
At last breakes forth with furious unrest,
And strives to mount unto his native seat;
All that did earst it hinder and molest,
Yt now devoures with flames and scorching heat,
Aud carries into smoake with rage and horror great,
So mightely the Briton prince him rouzd
Out of his holde, and broke his caytive bands;
And as a beare, whom angry curres have touzd,
Having off-shakt them and escapt their hands,
Becomes more fell, and all that him withstands
Treads down and overthrowes. Now had the carle
Alighted from his tigre, and his hands
Discharged of his bow and deadly quar❜le,
To seize upon his foe flatt lying on the marle.
Which now him turnd to disavantage deare;
For neither can he fly, nor other harme,
But trust unto his strength and manhood meare,
Sith now he is far from his monstrous swarme,
And of his weapons did himselfe disarme.
The knight, yet wrothfull for his late disgrace,
Fiercely advaunst his valorous right arme,
And him so sore smott with his yron mace,
His wonder far exceeded reasons reach,
That he began to doubt his dazeled sight,
And oft of error did himselfe appeach:
Flesh without blood, a person without spright,
Wounds without hurt, a body without might,
That could doe harme, yet could not harmed bee,
That could not die, yet seemd a mortall wight,
That was most strong in most infirmitee;
Like did he never heare, like did he never see.
Awhile he stood in this astonishment,
Yet would he not for all his great dismay
Give over to effect his first intent,
And th' utmost meanes of victory assay,
Or th' utmost yssew of his owne decay.
His owne good sword Mordure, that never fayld
At need till now, he lightly threw away,
And his bright shield that nought him now avayld;
That groveling to the ground he fell, and fild his And with his naked hands him forcibly assayld.
Wel weened hee that field was then his owne,
And all his labor brought to happy end;
When suddein up the villeine overthrowne
Out of his swowne arose, fresh to contend,
And gan himselfe to second battail! bend,
As hurt he had not beene. Thereby there lay
An huge great stone, which stood upon one end,
And had not bene removed many a day; [way:
Some land-marke seemd to bee, or signe of sundry
The same he snatcht, and with exceeding sway
Threw at his foe, who was right well aware
To shonne the engin of his meant decay;
It booted not to thinke that throw to beare,
But grownd he gave, and lightly lept areare :
Eft fierce retourning, as a faulcon fayre,
That once hath failed of her souse full neare,
Remounts againe into the open ayre,
And unto better fortune doth herselfe prepayre:
So brave retourning, with his brandisht blade,
He to the carle himselfe agayn addrest,
And strooke at him so sternely, that he made
An open passage through his riven brest,
That halfe the steele behind his backe did rest;
Which drawing backe, he looked evermore
When the hart blood should gush out of his chest,
Or his dead corse should fall upon the flore;
But his dead corse upon the flore fell nathëmore:
Ne drop of blood appeared shed to bee,
All were the wownd so wide and wonderous
That through his carcas one might playnly see.
Halfe in amaze with horror hideous,
And halfe in rage to be deluded thus,
Again through both the sides he strooke him quight,
That made his spright to grone full piteous;
Yet nathëmore forth fled his groning spright,
But freshly, as at first, prepard himselfe to fight.
Thereat he smitten was with great affright,
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 aery spirite under false pretence,
Or hellish feend raysd up through divelish science.
Twixt his two mighty armes him up he snatcht,
And crusht his carcas so against his brest,
That the disdainfull sowle he thence dispatcht,
And th' ydle breath all utterly exprest:
Tho, when he felt him dead, adowne he kest
The lumpish corse unto the sencelesse grownd;
Adowne he kest it with so puissant wrest,
That backe againe it did alofte rebownd,
And gave against his mother Earth a gronefull sownd.
As when loves harnesse-bearing bird from hye
Stoupes at a flying heron with proud disdayne,
The stone-dead quarrey falls so forciblye,
That it rebownds against the lowly playne,
A second fall redoubling backe agayne.
Then thought the prince all peril sure was past,
And that he victor onely did remayne;
No sooner thought, then that the carle as fast
Gan heap huge strokes on him, as ere he down was
Nigh his wits end then woxe th' amazed knight,
And thought his labor lost, and travell vayne,
Against this lifelesse shadow so to fight:
Yet life he saw, and felt his mighty mayne,
That, whiles he marveild still, did still him payne;
Forthy he gan some other wayes advize,
How to take life from that dead-living swayne,'
Whom still he marked freshly to arize [reprize.
From th' Earth, and from her womb new spirits to
He then remembred well, that had bene sayd,
How th' Earth his mother was, and first him bore;
She eke, so often as his life decayd,
Did life with usury to him restore,
And reysd him up much stronger then before,
So soone as he unto her wombe did fall:
Therefore to grownd he would him cast no more,
Ne him committ to grave terrestriall,
But beare him farre from hope of succour usuall.
Tho up he caught him twixt his puissant hands,
And having scruzd out of his carrion corse
The lothfull life, now loosd from sinfull bands,
Upon his shoulders carried him perforse
Above three furlongs, taking his full course,
Until he came unto a standing lake;
Him thereinto he threw without remorse,
Ne stird, till hope of life did him forsake: [make.
So end of that carles dayes and his owne paynes did
Which when those wicked hags from far did spye,
Like two mad dogs they ran about the lands;
And th' one of them with dreadfull yelling crye,
Throwing away her broken chaines and bands,
And having quencht her burning fier-brands,
Hedlong herselfe did cast into that lake:
But Impotence with her owne wilfull hands
One of Malegers cursed darts did take, [make.
So ryv'd her trembling hart, and wicked end did
Thus now alone he conquerour remaines :
Tho, cumming to his squyre that kept his steed,
Thought to have mounted; but his feeble vaines
Him faild thereto, and served not his need, [bleed,
Through losse of blood which from his wounds did
That he began to faint, and life decay:
But his good squyre, him helping up with speed,
With stedfast hand upon his horse did stay,
And led him to the castle by the beaten way.
Where many groomes and squiers ready were
To take him from his steed full tenderly;
And eke the fayrest Alma mett him there
With balme, and wine, and costly spicery,
To comfort him in his infirmity:
Eftesoones she causd him up to be convayd,
And of his armes despoyled easily
In sumptuous bed shee made him to be layd;
And, al the while his wounds were dressing, by him
stayd.
Guyon, by palmers governaunce,
Passing through perilles great,
Doth overthrow the Bowre of Blis,
And Acrasy defeat.
Now ginnes that goodly frame of Temperaunce
Fayrely to rise, and her adorned hed
To pricke of highest prayse forth to advaunce,
Formerly grounded and fast setteled
On firme foundation of true bountyhed:
And this brave knight, that for this vertue fightes,
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,
Ne ever land beheld, ne living wight,
Ne ought save perill, still as he did pas:
Tho, when appeared the third morrow bright
Upon the waves to spred her trembling light,
An hideous roring far away they heard,
That all their sences filled with affright;
And streight they saw the raging surges reard
Up to the skyes, that them of drowning made affeard.
Said then the boteman, "Palmer, stere aright,
And keepe an even course; for yonder way
We needes must pas (God doe us well acquight!)
That is the Gulfe of Greedinesse, they say,
That deepe engorgeth all this worldës pray;
Which having swallowd up excessively,
He soone in vomit up againe doth lay,
And belcheth forth his superfluity,
"On th' other syde an hideous rock is pight
Of mightie magnes stone, whose craggie clift
Depending from on high, dreadfull to sight,
Over the waves his rugged armes doth lift,
And threatneth downe to throw his ragged rift
On whoso cometh nigh; yet nigh it drawes
All passengers, that none from it can shift:
For, whiles they fly that gulfe's devouring awes,
They on the rock are rent, and sunck in helples
wawes."
Forward they passe, and strongly he them rowes,
Untill they nigh unto that gulfe arryve,
Where streame more violent and greedy growes:
Then he with all his puisaunce doth stryve
To strike his oares, and mightily doth dryve
The hollow vessell through the threatfull wave;
Which, gaping wide to swallow them alyve
In th' huge abysse of his engulfing grave, [rave.
Doth rore at them in vaine, and with great terrour
They, passing by, that grisely mouth did see
Sucking the seas into his entralles deepe,
That seemd more horrible than Hell to bee,
Or that darke dreadfull hole of Tartare steepe
Through which the damned ghosts doen often creep
Backe to the world, bad livers to torment:
But nought that falles into this direfull deepe,
Ne that approcheth nigh the wyde descent,
May backe retourne, but is condemned to be drent.
On th' other side they saw that perilous rocke,
Threatning itselfe on them to ruinate,
On whose sharp cliftes the ribs of vessels broke ;
And shivered ships, which had beene wrecked late,
Yet stuck with carcases exanimate
Of such, as having all their substance spent
In wanton ioyes and lustes intemperate,
Did afterwardes make shipwrack violent
Both of their life and fame for ever fowly blent.
Forthy this hight the Rock of vile Reproch,
A daungerous and détestable place,
To which nor fish nor fowle did once approch,
But yelling meawes, with seagulles hoars and bace,
And cormoyraunts, with birds of ravenous race,
Which still sat wayting on that wastfull clift
For spoile of wretches, whose unhappy cace,
After lost credit and consumed thrift,
At last them driven hath to this despairefull drift.
The palmer, seeing them in safetie past,
Thus saide; "Behold th' ensamples in our sightes
Of lustfull luxurie and thriftlesse wast!
What now is left of miserable wightes,
Which spent their looser daies in leud delightes,
But shame and sad reproch, here to be red
By these rent reliques speaking their ill plightes!
Let all that live hereby be counselled
To shunne Rock of Reproch, and it as death to dread!"
So forth they rowed; and that ferryman
With his stiffe oares did brush the sea so strong,
That the hoare waters from his frigot ran,
And the light bubles daunced all along,
Whiles the salt brine out of the billowes sprong.
At last far off they many islandes spy
On every side floting the floodes emong:
Then said the knight; "Lo! I the land descry;
That all the seas for feare doe seeme away to fly. Therefore, old syre, thy course doe thereunto apply.'
"That may not bee," said then the ferryman,
"Least wee unweeting hap to be fordonne:
For those same islands, seeming now and than,
Are not firme land, nor any certein wonne,
But stragling plots, which to and fro doe ronne
In the wide waters; therefore are they hight
The Wandring Islands: therefore doethem shonne;
For they have oft drawne many a wandring wight
Into most deadly daunger and distressed plight.
"Yet well they seeme to him, that farre doth vew,
Both faire and fruitfull, and the grownd dispred
With grassy greene of délectable hew;
And the tall trees with leaves appareled
Are deckt with blossoms dyde in white and red,
That mote the passengers thereto allure;
But whosoever once hath fastened
His foot thereon, may never it recure,
But wandreth evermore uncertein and unsure.
"As th' isle of Delos whylome, men report,
Amid th' Aegean sea long time did stray,
Ne made for shipping any certeine port,
Till that Latona traveiling that way,
Flying from Junoes wrath and hard assay,
Of her fayre twins was there delivered,
Which afterwards did rule the night and day;
Thenceforth it firmly was established,
And for Apolloes temple highly herried."
They to him hearken, as beseemeth meete;
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 pleasaunt to the eye,
That it would tempt a man to touchen there:
Upon the banck they sitting did espy
A daintie damsell dressing of her beare,
By whom a little skippet floting did appeare.
She, them espying, loud to them can call,
Bidding them nigher draw unto the shore,
For she had cause to busie them withall;
And therewith lowdly laught: but nathëmore
Would they once turne, but kept on as afore:
Which when she saw, she left her lockes undight,
And running to her boat withouten ore,
From the departing land it launched light,
"But by the way there is a great quicksand,
And a whirlepoole of hidden ieopardy;
Therefore, sir Palmer, keepe an even hand;
For twixt them both the narrow way doth ly."
Scarse had he saide, when hard at hand they spy
That quicksand nigh with water covered;
But by the checked wave they did descry
It plaine, and by the sea discoloured:
It called was the Quickesand of Unthriftyhed,
They, passing by, a goodly ship did see
Laden from far with precious merchandize,
And bravely furnished as ship might bee,
Which through great disaventure, or mesprize,
Herselfe had ronne into that hazardize;
Whose mariners and merchants with much toyle
Labour'd in vaine to have recur'd their prize,
And the rich wares to save from pitteous spoyle;
But neither toyle nor traveill might her backe re-
coyle.
On th' other side they see that perilous poole,
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 ronning round,
Did covet, as they passed by that way,
To draw their bote within the utmost bound
Of his wide labyrinth, and then to have them dround,
But th' heedful boteman strongly forth did stretch
His brawnie armes, and all his bodie straine,
That th' utmost sandy breach they shortly fetch,
Whiles the dread 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 up with proud disdaine,
To swell above the measure of his guise,
As threatning to devoure all that his powre despise,
The waves come rolling, and the billowes rore
Outragiously, as they enraged were,
Or wrathfull Neptune did them drive before
His whirling charet for exceeding feare;
For not one puffe of winde there did appeare;
That all the three thereat woxe much afrayd,
Unweeting what such horrour straunge did reare.
And after them did drive with all her power and Eftsoones they saw an hideous boast arrayd
Whom overtaking, she in merry sort
Them gan to bord, and purpose diversly;
Now faining dalliaunce and wanton sport,
Now throwing forth lewd wordes immodestly;
Till that the palmer gan full bitterly
Her to rebuke for being loose and light:
Which not abiding, but more scornfully
Scoffing at him that did her iustly wite,
Of huge sea-monsters, such as living sence dismayd;
Most ugly shapes and horrible aspects,
Such as dame Nature selfe mote feare to see,
Or shame, that ever should so fowle defects
From her most cunning hand escaped bee;
All dreadfull pourtraicts of deformitee:
Spring-headed hydres; and sea-shouldring whales;
Great whirlpooles, which all fishes make to flee;
Bright scolopendraes arm'd with silver scales;
She turnd her bote about, and from them rowed quite. Mighty monoceros with immeasured tayles;
That was the wanton Phædria, which late
Did ferry him over the Idle Lake:
Whom nought regarding they kept on their gate,
And all her vaine allurements did forsake;
When them the wary boteman thus bespake;
"Here now behoveth us well to avyse,
And of our safety good heede to take;
For here before a perlous passage lyes,
Where many mermayds haunt making false melo
The dreadful fish, that hath deserv'd the name
Of Death, and like him lookes in dreadfull hew;
The griesly wasserman, that makes his game
The flying ships with swiftnes 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 travellers informe;
And greedy rosmarines with visages deforme;
All these, and thousand thousands many more, And more deformed monsters thousand fold, With dreadfull noise and hollow rombling rore Came rushing, in the fomy waves 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 entráll.
"Feare nought," then saide the palmer well aviz'd;
"For these same monsters are not these in deed,
But are into these fearefull shapes disguiz'd
By that same wicked witch, to worke us dreed,
And draw from on this journey to proceed."
Tho, lifting up 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 danger forth their course they kept;
And as they went they heard a ruefull cry
Of one that wayld and pittifully wept,
So now to Guyon, as he passed by,
Their pleasaunt tunes they sweetly thus applyde;
"O thou fayre sonne of gentle Faery,
That art in mightie armes most magnifyde
Above all knights that ever batteill tryde,
O turne thy rudder hetherward awhile:
Here may thy storme-bett vessell safely ryde;
This is the port of rest from troublous toyle,
The worldes sweet in from paine and wearisome
turmoyle."
With that the rolling sea, resounding soft,
In his big base them fitly answered;
And on the rocke the waves breaking aloft
A solemne meane unto them measured;
The whiles sweet Zephyrus lowd whisteled
His treble, a straunge kinde of harmony;
Which Guyons senses softly tickeled,
That he the boteman bad row easily,
And let him heare some part of their rare melody.
But him the palmer from that vanity
With temperate advice discounselled,
That through the sea th' resounding plaints did fly: That they it past, and shortly gan descry.
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 evermore.
Which Guyon hearing, streight his palmer bad
To stere the bote towards that, dolefull mayd,
That he might know and ease her sorrow sad:
Who, him avizing 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
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 boteman strayt
Held on his course with stayed stedfastnesse,
Ne ever shroncke, ne ever 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
Whereas 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 port they made,
And did like an halfe theatre fulfilÌ:
There those five sisters had continuall trade,
And usd to bath themselves in that deceiptfull shade.
They were faire ladies, till they fondly striv'd
With th' Heliconian maides for maystery;
Of whom they over-comen were depriv'd
Of their proud beautie, and th' one moyity
Transform'd to fish for their bold surquedry;
But th' upper halfe their hew retayned still,
And their sweet skill in wonted melody;
Which ever after they abusd to ill,
The land to which their course they levelled;
When suddeiuly a grosse fog over spred
With his dull vapour all that desert has,
And Heavens chearefull face enveloped,
That all things one, and one as nothing was,
And this great universe seemd one confused mas.
Thereat they greatly were dismayd, ne wist
How to direct theyr way in darkenes wide,
But feard to wander in that wastefull mist,
For tombling into mischiefe unespyde:
Worse is the daunger hidden then descride.
Suddeinly an innumerable flight
Of harmefull fowles about them fluttering cride,
And with their wicked winges them ofte did smight,
And sore annoyed, groping in that griesly night.
Even all the nation of unfortunate
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-raven, trump of dolefull drere;
The lether-winged batt, dayes enimy;
The ruefull strich, still waiting on the bere;
The whistler shrill, that whoso heares doth dy;
The hellish harpyes, prophets of sad destiny:
All those, and all that els does horror breed,
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 itselfe did playnly show.
Said then the palmer; "Lo! where does appeare
The sacred soile where all our perills grow! [throw."
Therefore, sir Knight, your ready arms about you
He hearkned, and his armes about him tooke,
The whiles the nimble bote 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 governed;
But th' other by his bote behind did stay.
They marched fayrely forth, of nought ydred,
With constancy and care, gainst daunger and dismay.
T'allure weake traveillers, whom gotten they did Both firmely armd for every hard assay,
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