And now by this Cymochles' hour was spent,
That he awoke out of his idle dream;
And shaking off his drowsy dreriment,
'Gan him advise how ill did him beseem
In slothful sleep his moulten heart to steme,
And quench the brand of his conceived ire;
Tho' up he started, stirr'd with shame extreme,
Ne stayed for his damsel to enquire,
But marched to the strand, there passage to
require.
And in the way he with Sir Guyon met,
Accompanied with Phædria the fair;
Eftsoons he 'gan to rage and inly fret,
Crying, "Let be that lady debonair,
Thou recreant knight, and soon thyself prepare
To battle, if thou mean her love to gain.
Lo, lo, already how the fowls in air
And therewithal he fiercely at him flew,
And with importune outrage him assail'd ;
Who soon prepared, to field his sword forth drew,
And him with equal value countervail'd ;
Their mighty strokes their haberieons dismail'd,
And naked made each other's manly spalles;
The mortal steel dispiteously entail'd
Deep in their flesh, quite through the iron walls,
That a large purple stream adown their giambeux
falls.
Do flock, awaiting shortly to obtain
Thy carcass for their prey, the guerdon of thy pain." Does yield unto his foe a pleasant victory.
Cymochles, that had never met before
So puissant foe, with envious despight
His proud presumed force encreased more,
Disdaining to be held so long in fight.
Sir Guyon, grudging not so much his might,
As those unknightly railings which he spoke,
With wrathful fire his courage kindled bright,
Thereof devising shortly to be wroke,
Both of them high at once their hands enhaunst,
And both at once their huge blows down did sway:
Cymochles' sword on Guyon's shield yglaunst,
And thereof nigh one quarter shear'd away:
But Guyon's angry blade so fierce did play
On th' other's helmet, which as Titan shone,
That quite it clove his plumed crest in tway,
And bared all his head into the bone,
Wherewith astonish'd still he stood as senseless
stone.
"If ever love of lady did empierce
Your iron breasts, or pity could find place,
Withhold your bloody hands from battle fierce ;
And sith for me ye fight, to me this grace
Both yield, to stay your deadly strife a space;"
They stay'd awhile, and forth she 'gan proceed :
"Most wretched woman, and of wicked race,
That am the author of this heinous deed,
And cause of death between two doughty knights
do breed.
Still as he stood, fair Phædria (that beheld
That deadly danger) soon atweene them ran,
And at their feet herself most humbly fell'd,
Crying with piteous voice and count'nance wan,
"Ah! well away! most noble lords, how can
Your cruel eyes endure so piteous sight
To shed your lives on ground? woe worth the man
That first did teach the cursed steel to bite
In his own flesh, and make way to the living
spright!
"But if for me ye fight, or me will serve,
Not this rude kind of battle, nor these arms
Are meet, the which do men in bale to sterve,
And doleful sorrow heap with deadly harms :
Such cruel game my scarmoges disarms.
Another war and other weapons I
Do love, where love does give his sweet alarms
Without bloodshed, and where the enemy
Therewith she sweetly smiled. They, though
To prove extremities of bloody fight, [full bent
Yet at her speech their rages 'gan relent,
And calm the sea of their tempestuous spite :
Such power have pleasing words: such is the might
Of courteous clemency in gentle heart.
Now after all was ceased, the Faery Knight
Besought that damsel suffer him depart,
And doubling all his powers, redoubled every stroke. And yield him ready passage to that other part.
"Debateful strife and cruel enmity
The famous name of knighthood foully shend;
But lovely peace and gentle amity,
And in amours the passing hours to spend,
The mighty martial hands do most commend ;
Of love they ever greater glory bore
Than of their arms: Mars is Cupido's friend,
And for Venus' loves renowned more
Than all his wars and spoils the which he did of yore."
She no less glad than he desirous was
Of his departure thence; for of her joy
And vain delight she saw he light did pass,
A foe of folly and immodest toy,
Still solemn sad, or still disdainful coy,
Delighting all in arms and cruel war,
That her sweet peace and pleasures did annoy,
Troubled with terror and unquiet jar,
That she well pleased was thence to amove him
far.
Tho' him she brought aboard, and her swift boat
Forthwith directed to that further strand,
That which on the dull waves did lightly float,
And soon arrived on the shallow sand,
Where gladsome Guyon sallied forth to land,
And to that damsel thanks gave for reward:
Upon that shore he espied Atin stand,
There by his master left, when late he fared
In Phædria's fleet bark, over that perlous shard.
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And overthrew his bowl disdainfully, And broke his staff, with which he charged semblants sly.
There with the heavens, always jovial,
Look'd on them lovely, still in stedfast state,
Ne suffer'd storm nor frost on them to fall,
Their tender buds or leaves to violate;
Nor scorching heat, nor cold intemperate,
T' afflict the creatures which therein did dwell;
But the mild air, with season moderate,
Gently attemper'd, and disposed so well,
That still it breathed forth sweet spirit and whole-
some smell.
More sweet and wholesome than the pleasant hill
Of Rhodope, on which the nymph, that bore
A giant babe, herself for grief did kill;
Or the Thessalian Tempe, where of yore
Fair Daphne Phoebus' heart with love did gore;
Or Ida, where the gods loved to repair
Whenever they their heavenly bowers forlore;
Or sweet Parnasse, the haunt of muses fair;
Or Eden self, if aught with Eden mote compare.
Much wonder'd Guyon at the fair aspect
Of that sweet place, yet suffer'd no delight
To sink into his sense, nor mind affect;
But passed forth, and look'd still forward right,
Bridling his will, and mastering his might,
Till that he came unto another gate;
No gate, but like one, being goodly dight
With boughs and branches, which did broad dilate
Their clasping arms, in wanton wreathings intricate.
So fashioned a porch with rare device,
Arch'd over head with an embracing vine,
Whose bunches hanging down seem'd to entice
All passers by to taste their luscious wine,
And did themselves into their hands incline,
As freely offering to be gathered;
Some deep empurpled as the hyacine,
Some as the rubine, laughing sweetly red,
Some like fair emeraudes not yet well ripened:
And them amongst some were of burnish'd gold,
So made by art to beautify the rest,
Which did themselves amongst the leaves enfold,
As lurking from the view of covetous guest,
That the weak boughs, with so rich load oppress'd,
Did bow adown as overburthened.
Under that porch a comely dame did rest,
Clad in fair weeds, but foul disordered,
And garments loose, that seem'd unmeet for
womanhead :
Thus being enter'd, they behold around
A large and spacious plain, on every side
Strewed with pleasances; whose fair grassy ground,
Mantled with green, and goodly beautified
With all the ornaments of Flora's pride,
Wherewith her mother Art, as half in scorn
Of niggard Nature, like a pompous bride,
Did deck her, and too lavishly adorn,
In her left hand a cup of gold she held,
And with her right the riper fruit did reach,
Whose sappy liquor, that with fullness swell'd,
Into her cup she scruzed with dainty breach
Of her fine fingers, without foul empeach
That so fair wine-press made the wine more sweet:
Thereof she used to give to drink to each,
Whom passing by she happened to meet :
When forth from virgin bow'r she comes in th' It was her guise all strangers goodly so to greet. early morn.
So she to Guyon offer'd it to taste : Who, taking it out of her tender hand, The cup to ground did violently cast, That all in pieces it was broken fond, And with the liquor stained all the land: Whereat Excess exceedingly was wroth, Yet no'te the same amend, ne yet withstand, But suffered him to pass, all were she lothe, Who, nought regarding her displeasure, forward goeth.
There the most dainty paradise on ground
Itself doth offer to his sober eye,
In which all pleasures plenteously abound,
And none does other's happiness envy;
The painted flowers, the trees upshooting high;
The dales for shade, the hills for breathing space;
That trembling groves, the crystal running by ;
And that which all fair works doth most aggrace,
The art, which all that wrought, appeared in no
place.
One would have thought, (so cunningly the rude And scorned parts were mingled with the fine,) That Nature had for wantonness ensude Art, and that Art at Nature did repine; So striving each th' other to undermine, Each did the other's work more beautify, So differing both in wills agreed in fine: So all agreed, through sweet diversity, This garden to adorn with all variety.
And in the midst of all a fountain stood,
Of richest substance that on the earth might be,
So pure and shiny, that the silver flood
Through every channel running one might see:
Most goodly it with curious imagery
Was over-wrought, and shapes of naked boys,
Of which some seem'd, with lively jollity,
And over all of purest gold was spread A trayle of ivy in his native hue;
For the rich metal was so coloured,
That wight, who did not well advised it view, Would surely deem it to be ivy true: Low his lascivious arms adown did creep, That themselves, dipping in the silver dew Their fleecy flowers, they fearfully did steep, Which drops of crystal seem'd for wantonness to weep.
And all the margent round about was set With shady laurel trees, thence to defend The sunny beams which on the billows beat, And those which therein bathed mote offend. As Guyon happen'd by the same to wend, Two naked damsels he therein espied, Which therein bathing, seemed to contend And wrestle wantonly, ne cared to hide Their dainty parts from view of any which them eyed.
*
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*
*
*
Infinite streams continually did well
Out of this fountain, sweet and fair to see,
The which into an ample laver fell,
And shortly grew to so great quantity,
That like a little lake it seem'd to be,
Whose depth exceeded not three cubits height,
That through the waves one might the bottom see,
All paved beneath with jasper, shining bright,
That seem'd the fountain in that sea did sail
upright.
As that fair star, the messenger of morn, His dewy face out of the sea doth rear; Or as the Cyprian goddess, newly born Of th' ocean's fruitful froth, did first appear: Such seemed they, and so their yellow heare Crystalline humour dropped down apace; Whom such when Guyon saw, he drew him near, And somewhat 'gan relent his earnest pace; His stubborn breast 'gan secret pleasaunce to embrace.
*
*
*
*
*
On which when gazing him the palmer saw,
He much rebuked those wand'ring eyes of his,
And, counsell'd well, him forward thence did draw,
Now are they come nigh to the Bower of Bliss,
Of her fond favourites so named amiss;
When thus the palmer: "Now, Sir, well avise,
For here the end of all our travel is;
Here wonnes Acrasia, whom we must surprise,
Else she will slip away, and all our drift despise."
To fly about, playing their wanton toys,
Whilst others did themselves embay in liquid joys. Birds, voices, instruments, winds, waters, all agree.
Eftsoons they heard a most melodious sound,
Of all that mote delight a dainty ear,
Such as at once might not on living ground,
Save in this paradise, be heard elsewhere:
Right hard it was for wight which did it hear,
To rede what manner music that mote be;
For all that pleasing is to living ear,
Was there consorted in one harmony;
The joyous birds, shrouded in cheerful shade, Their notes unto the voice attemper'd sweet; Th' angelical soft trembling voices made To th' instruments divine respondence meet; The silver-sounding instruments did meet With the base murmur of the water's fall; The water's fall with difference discreet, Now soft, now loud, unto the wind did call ; The gentle warbling wind low answered to all.
GLAUCE AND BRITOMART EXPLORING THE CAVE OF MERLIN. * * * *
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FULL many ways within her troubled mind Old Glauce cast to cure this lady's grief; Full many ways she sought, but none could find, Nor herbs, nor charms, nor counsel, that is chief And choicest med'cine for sick heart's relief; Forthy great care she took, and greater fear. Least that it should her turn to foul reprief, And sore reproach, whenso her father dear [hear. Should of his dearest daughter's hard misfortune
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