Her faithfull knight faire VnaUna brings
To house of Holinesse,
Where he is taught repentaunce, and
The way to heuenly blesse.
What man is he, that boasts of fleshly
And vaine assuraunce of mortality,
Which all so soone, as it doth come to fight,
Against spirituall foes, yields by and by,
Or from the fielde most cowardly doth fly?
Ne let the man ascribe it to his skill,
That thorough grace hath gained victory.
If any strength we hauehave, it is to ill,
But all the good is Gods, both power and
By that, which lately hapned, VnaUna saw,
That this her knight was feeble, and too faint;
And all his sinewes woxen weake and raw,
Through long enprisonment, and hard constraint,
Which he endured in his late restraint,
That yet he was vnfittunfitt for bloody fight:
Therefore to cherish him with diets daint,daint.
She cast to bring him, where he chearen might,
Till he recoueredrecovered had his late decayed plight.
There was an auncient house not far
Renowmd throughout the world for sacred lore,
And pure vnspottedunspotted life: so well they say
It gouerndgovernd was, and guided euermoreevermore,
Through wisedome of a matrone grauegrave and hore;
Whose onely ioyjoy was to relieuerelieve the needes
Of wretched soules, and helpe the helpelesse pore:
All night she spent in bidding of her bedes,
And all the day in doing good and godly
Dame Cælia men did her call, as thought
From heauenheaven to come, or thether to arise,
The mother of three daughters, well vpbroughtupbrought
In goodly thewes, and godly exercise:
The eldest two most sober, chast, and wise,
Fidelia and Speranza virgins were,
Though spousd, yet wanting wedlocks solemnize;
But faire Charissa to a louelylovely fere
Was lincked, and by him had many pledges
ArriuedArrived there, the dore they find fast lockt;
For it was warely watched night and day,
For feare of many foes: but when they knockt,
The Porter opened vntounto them streight way:
He was an aged syre, all hory gray,
With lookes full lowly cast, and gate full slow,
Wont on a staffe his feeble steps to stay,
Hight Humiltá. They passe in stouping
For streight &and narrow was the way, which he did shew.
Each goodly thing is hardest to begin,
But entred in a spatious court they see,
Both plaine, and pleasaunt to be walked in,
VVhereWhere them does meete a francklin faire and free,
And entertaines with comely courteous glee,
His name was Zele, that him right
For in his speaches and behaueourbehaveour hee
Did labour liuelylively to expresse the same,
And gladly did them guide, till to the
Hall they came.
There fayrely them receiuesreceives a gentle Squyre,
Of myld demeanure, and rare courtesee,
Right cleanly clad in comely sad attyre;
In word and deede that shewd great modestee,
And knew his good to all of each degree,
ReuerenceReverence. He them with speaches meet
Does faire entreat; no courting nicetee,
But simple trew, and eke vnfainedunfained sweet,
As might become a Squyre so great persons
And afterwardes them to his Dame he
That aged Dame, the Lady of the place:
Who all this while was busy at her beades:
Which doen, she vpup arose with seemely grace,
And toward them full matronely did pace.
Where when that fairest VnaUna she beheld,
Whom well she knew to spring from heuenlyhevenly race,
Her heart with ioyjoy
vnwontedunwonted inly sweld,
As feeling wondrous comfort in her weaker
And her embracing said, O happy earth,
Whereon thy innocent feet doe euerever tread,
Most vertuous virgin borne of heuenlyhevenly berth,
That to redeeme thy woefull parents head,
From tyrans rage, and euerever-dying dread,
Hast wandred through the world now long a day;
Yett ceassest not thy weary soles to lead,
What grace hath thee now hether brought this way?
Or doen thy feeble feet vnweetingunweeting hether stray?
Straunge thing it is an errant knight to
Here in this place, or any other wight,
That hether turnes his steps. So few there bee,
That chose the narrow path, or seeke the right:
All keepe the broad high way, and take
With many rather for to goe astray,
And be partakers of their euillevill plight,
10.8. Then: ThanThenThan with a few to walke the rightest way;
O foolish men, why hast ye to your owne
Thy selfe to see, and tyred limbes to
O matrone sage (quoth she) I hether came,
And this good knight his way with me addrest,
Ledd with thy prayses and broad-blazed fame,
That vpup to heuenheven is blowne.
The auncient Dame,
Him goodly greeted in her modest guyse,
And enterteynd them both, as best became,
With all the court'sies, that she could deuysedevyse,
Ne wanted ought, to shew her bounteous or
Thus as they gan of sondrie thinges deuisedevise,
Loe two most goodly virgins came in place,
Ylinked arme in arme in louelylovely wise,
With countenance demure, and modest grace,
They numbred eueneven steps and equall pace:
Of which the eldest, that Fidelia
Like sunny beames threw from her Christall face,
That could hauehave dazd the rash beholders sight,
And round about her head did shine like
She was araied all in lilly white,
And in her right hand bore a cup of gold,
With wine and water fild vpup to the hight,
In which a Serpent did himselfe enfold,
That horrour made to all, that did behold;
But she no whitt did chaunge her constant mood:
And in her other hand she fast did hold
A booke that was both signd and seald with blood,
Wherin darke things were writt, hard to
Her younger Sister, that Speranza hight,
Was clad in blew, that her beseemed well;
Not all so chearefull seemed she of sight,
As was her sister; whether dread did dwell,
Or anguish in her hart, is hard to tell:
VponUpon her arme a siluersilver anchor lay,
Whereon she leaned euerever, as befell:
vpup to heuen, as she did pray,
Her stedfast eyes were bent, ne swaruedswarved other way.
They seeing VnaUna, towardes her gan wend,
Who them encounters with like courtesee;
Many kind speeches they betweene them spend,
And greatly ioyjoy each other forwell to see:
Then to the knight with shamefast modestie
They turne them seluesselves, at VnaesUnaes meeke request,
And him salute with well beseeming glee;
Who faire them quites, as him beseemed best,
And goodly gan discourse of many a noble
Then VnaUna thus; But she your sister deare,
The deare Charissa where is she
Or wants she health, or busie is elswhere?
Ah no, said they, but forth she may not come:
For she of late is lightned of her wombe,
And hath encreast the world with one sonne more,
That her to see should be but troublesome.
Indeed (quoth she) that should herbe trouble sore,
But thankt be God, and her encrease so euermoreevermore.
Then saide the aged Cœlia, Deare dame,
And you good Sir, I wote that of youre toyle,
And labors long, through which ye he ther came,
Ye both forwearied be: therefore a whylewhyle.while
I read you rest, and to your bowres recoyle.
Then called she a Groome, that forth him ledd
Into a goodly lodge, and gan despoile.
Of puissant armes, and laid in easie bedd;
His name was meeke Obedience rightfully aredd.
Now when their wearie limbes with kindly
And bodies were refresht with dew repast,
Fayre VnaUna gan Fidelia fayre
To hauehave her knight into her schoolehous plaste,
That of her heauenlyheavenly learning he might taste,
And heare the wisedom of her wordes diuinedivine.
She graunted, and that knight so much agraste,
That she him taught celestiall discipline,
And opened his dull eyes, that light mote
in them shine.
And that her sacred Booke, with blood
That none could reade, except she did them teach.
She vntounto him disclosed eueryevery whitt,
And heauenlyheavenly documents thereout did preach,
That weaker witt of man could neuernever reach,
Of God, of grace, of iusticejustice, of free will,
That wonder was to heare her goodly speach:
For she was hable, with her wordes to kill,
And rayse againe to life the hart, that
she did thrill.
And when she list poure out her larger
She would commaund the hasty Sunne to stay,
Or backward turne his course from heuen'sheven's
Sometimes great hostes of men she could dismay,
And eke huge mountaines from their natiuenative seat
She would commaund, themseluesthemselves to beare away,
And throw in raging sea with roaring threat.
Almightie God her gauegave such powre, and puissaunce great.
The faithfull knight now grew in litle
By hearing her, and by her sisters lore,
To such perfection of all heuenly grace;
That wretched world he gan for to abhore,
And mortall life gan loath, as thing forlore,
GreeudGreevd with remembrance of his wicked wayes,
And prickt with anguish of his sinnes so sore,
That he desirde, to end his wretched dayes:
So much the dart of sinfull guilt the
But wise Speranza
gauegave him comfort sweet,
And taught him how to take assured hold
VponUpon her siluersilver anchor, as was meet;
Els had his sinnes so great, and manifold
Made him forget all, that Fidelia
In this distressed doubtfull agony,
When him his dearest VnaUna did behold,
Disdeining life, desiring leaueleave to dye,
She found her selfe assayld with great
And came to Cœlia to declare her smart,
Who well acquainted with that commune plight,
Which sinfull horror workes in wounded hart,
Her wisely comforted all, that she might,
With goodly counsell and aduisementadvisement right;
And streightway sent with carefull diligence,
To fetch a Leach, the which had great insight
In that disease of grieuedgrieved conscience,
And well could cure the same; His name
Who comming to that sowle-diseased
Could hardly him intreat, to tell his grief:
Which knowne, and all that noyd his heauieheavie spright,
Well searcht, eftsoones he gan apply relief.
Of saluessalves and med'cines, which had passing prief,
And added wordes of wondrous might:
By which to ease he him recured brief,
And much aswag'd the passion of his plight,
That he his paine endur'd, as seeming now
But yet the
cause and root of all his ill,
Inward corruption, and infected sin,
Not purg'd nor heald, behind remained still,
And festring sore did ranckle yett within,
Close creeping twixt the marow and the skin.
Which to extirpe, he laid him priuilyprivily
Downe in a darksome lowly place far in,
Whereas he meant his corrosiuescorrosives to apply,
And with streight diet tame his stubborne
In ashes and sackcloth he did array
His daintie corse, proud humors to abate,
And dieted with fasting eueryevery day,
The swelling of his woundes to mitigate,
And made him pray both earely and eke late:
And euerever as superfluous flesh did rott
Amendment readie still at hand did wayt,
To pluck it out with pincers fyrie whott,
That soone in him was lefte no one
And bitter Penaunce with an yron whip,
Was wont him once to disple eueryevery day:
And sharpe Remorse his hart did
prick and nip,
That drops of blood thence like a well did play;
And sad Repentance
vsedused to embayembay,
His blamefull body in ſalt water ſoreHis blamefull body in salt water
His bodie in ſalt water ſmarting ſoreHis bodie in salt water smarting
His body in ſalt water ſmarting ſoreHis body in salt water smarting
The filthy blottes of sin to wash away.
So in short space they did to health restore
The man that would not liuelive, but erst lay at deathes dore.
In which his torment often was so
That like a Lyon he would cry and rore,
And rend his flesh, and his owne synewes eat.
His owne deare VnaUna hearing euermoreevermore
His ruefull shriekes and gronings, often tore
Her guiltlesse garments, and her golden heare,
For pitty of his payne and anguish sore;
Yet all with patience wisely she did beare;
For well she wist, his cryme could els be neuernever cleare.
Whom thus recouerrecover'd by wise Patience,
And trew Repentaunce they to
Who ioyousjoyous of his cured conscience,
Him dearely kist, and fayrely eke besought
Himselfe to chearish, and consuming thought
To put away out of his carefull brest.
By this Charissa, late in child-bed
Was woxen strong, and left her fruitfull nest;
To her fayre VnaUna brought this vnacquaintedunacquainted guest.
She was a woman in her freshest age,
Of wondrous beauty, and of bounty rare,
With goodly grace and comely personage,
That was on earth not easie to compare;
Full of great louelove, but Cupids wanton snare
As hell she hated, chaste in worke and will;
Her necke and brests were euerever open bare,
That ay thereof her babes might sucke their fill;
The rest was all in yellow robes arayed
A multitude of babes about her hong,
Playing their sportes, that ioydjoyd her to behold;
Whom still she fed, whiles they were weak &and young,
But thrust them forth still, as they wexed old:
And on her head she wore a tyre of gold,
Adornd with gemmes and owches wondrous fayre,faire.faire,
Whose passing price vneathuneath was to be told;
And by her syde there sate a gentle payre
Of turtle douesdoves, she sitting in an yuoryyvory chayre.
The knight and VnaUna entring, fayre her greet,
And bid her ioyjoy of that her happy brood;
Who them requites with court'sies seeming meet,
And entertaynes with friendly chearefull mood.
Then VnaUna her besought, to be so good,
As in her vertuous rules to schoole her knight,
Now after all his torment well withstood,
In that sad house of Penaunce, where
Had past the paines of hell, and long
She was right ioyiousjoyious of her iustjust request,
And taking by the hand that Faeries sonne,
Gan him instruct in euerieeverie good behest,
Of louelove, and righteousnes, and well to donne,
And wrath, and hatred warely to shonne,
That drew on men Gods hatred, and his wrath,
And many soules in dolours had fordonne:
In which when him she well instructed hath,
From thence to heauẽ she teacheth him the
Wherein his weaker wandring steps to
An auncient matrone she to her does call,
Whose sober lookes her wisedome well descryde:
Her name was Mercy, well knowne ouerover all,
To be both gratious, and eke liberall:
To whom the carefull charge of him she gauegave,
To leade aright, that he should neuernever fall
In all his waies through this wide worldes wauewave,
That Mercy in the end his righteous soule
The godly Matrone by the hand him
Forth from her presence, by a narrow way,
Scattred with bushy thornes, and ragged breares,
Which still before him she remou'dremov'd away,
That nothing might his ready passage stay:
And euerever when his feet encombred were,
Or gan to shrinke, or from the right to stray,
She held him fast, and firmely did vpbeareupbeare,
As carefull Nourse her child from falling
oft does reare.
Eftsoones vntounto an holy Hospitall,
That was fore by the way, she did him bring,
In which seuenseven Bead-men that had vowed all
Their life to seruiceservice of high heauensheavens king
Did spend their daies in doing godly thing:
There gates to all were open euermoreevermore,
That by the wearie way were traueilingtraveiling,
And one sate wayting euerever them before,
To call in-commers by, that needy were
The first of them that eldest was, and
Of all the house had charge and gouernementgovernement,
As Guardian and Steward of the rest:
His office was to giuegive entertainement
And lodging, vntounto all that came, and went:
Not vntounto such, as could him feast againe,
And double quite, for that he on them spent,
But such, as want of harbour did constraine:
Those for Gods sake his dewty was to
The second was as Almner of the
His office was, the hungry for to feed,
And thristy giuegive to drinke, a worke of grace:
He feard not once him selfe to be in need,
Ne car'd to hoord for those, whom he did breede:
The grace of God he layd vpup still in store,
Which as a stocke he left vntounto his seede;
He had enough, what need him care for more?
And had he lesse, yet some he would giuegive to the pore.
The third had of their wardrobe
In which were not rich tyres, nor garments gay,
The plumes of pride, and winges of vanity,
But clothes meet to keepe keene cold away,
And naked nature seemely to aray;
With which bare wretched wights he dayly clad,
The images of God in earthly clay;
And if that no spare clothes to giuegive he had,
His owne cote he would cut, and it
The fourth appointed by his office
Poore prisoners to relieuerelieve with gratious ayd,
And captiuescaptives to redeeme with price of bras,
From Turkes and Sarazins, which them had stayd;
And though they faulty were, yet well he wayd,
That God to vsus
Much more thenthan that, why they in bands were layd,
And he that harrowd hell with heauieheavie stowre,
The faulty soules from thence brought to
The fift had charge sick persons to
And comfort those, in point of death which lay;
For them most needeth comfort in the end,
When sin, and hell, and death doe most dismay
The feeble soule departing hence away.
All is but lost, that liuingliving we bestow,
If not well ended at our dying day.
O man hauehave mind of that last bitter throw;
For as the tree does fall, so lyes it euerever low.
The sixt had charge of them now being
In seemely sort their corses to engraueengrave,
And deck with dainty flowres their brydall bed,
That to their heauenlyheavenly spouse both sweet and brauebrave
They might appeare, when he their soules shall sauesave.
The wondrous workmanship of Gods owne mould,
Whose face he made, all beastes to feare, and gauegave
All in his hand, eueneven dead we honour should.
Ah dearest God me graunt, I dead be not
The seuenthseventh now after death and buriall done,
Had charge the tender Orphans of the dead
And wydowes ayd, least they should be vndoneundone:
In face of iudgementjudgement he their right would plead,
Ne ought the powre of mighty men did dread
In their defence, nor would for gold or fee
Be wonne their rightfull causes downe to tread:
And when they stood in most necessitee,
He did supply their want, and gauegave them euerever free.
There when the Elfin knight arriuedarrived was,
The first and chiefest of the seuenseven, whose care
Was guests to welcome, towardes him did pas:
Where seeing Mercie, that his steps vpbareupbare,
And alwaies led, to her with reuerencereverence rare
He humbly louted in meeke lowlinesse,
And seemely welcome for her did prepare:
For of their order she was Patronesse,
Albe Charissa were their chiefest founderesse.
There she awhile him stayes, him selfe to
That to the rest more hable he might bee:
During which time, in eueryevery good behest
And godly worke of Almes and charitee
Shee him instructed with great industree;
Shortly therein so perfect he became,
That from the first vntounto the last degree,
His mortall life he learned had to frame
In holy righteousnesse, without rebuke or
Thence forward by that painfull way they
Forth to an hill, that was both steepe and hy;
On top whereof a sacred chappell was,
And eke a litle Hermitage thereby,
Wherein an aged holy man did lie,
That day and night said his deuotiondevotion,
Ne other worldly busines did apply;
His name was heuenly Contemplation;
Of God and goodnes was his
Great grace that old man to him giuengiven had;
For God he often saw from heauensheavens hight,
All were his earthly eien both blunt and bad,
And through great age had lost their kindly sight,
Yet wondrous quick and persaunt was his spright,
As Eagles eie, that can behold the Sunne:
That hill they scale with all their powre and might,
That his fraile thighes nigh weary, and fordonne
Gan faile, but by her helpe the top at
last he wonne.
There they doe finde that godly aged
With snowy lockes adowne his shoulders shed,
As hoary frost with spangles doth attire
The mossy braunches of an Oke halfe ded.
Each bone might through his body well be red,
And eueryevery sinew seene through his long fast:
For nought he car'd his carcas long vnfedunfed;
His mind was full of spirituall repast,
And pyn'd his flesh, to keepe his body
low and chast.
Who when these two approching he
At their first presence grew agrieuedagrieved sore,
That forst him lay his heuenly thoughts aside;
And had he not that Dame respected more,
Whom highly he did reuerencereverence and adore,
He would not once hauehave
mouedmoved for the knight.
They him saluted standing far afore;
Who well them greeting, humbly did requight,
And asked, to what end they clomb that
What end (qd.quoth
he) should cause vsus take such paine,
But that same end, which eueryevery
Should make his marke, high heauenheaven to attaine?
Is not from hence the way, that leadeth right
To that most glorious house, that glistreth bright
With burning starres, and euerliuingeverliving fire,
Where of the keies are to thy hand behight
By wise Fidelia? shee doth thee
To shew it to this knight, according his
Thrise happy man, said then the father grauegrave,
Whose staggering steps thy steady hand doth lead,
And shewes the way, his sinfull soule to sauesave.
Who better can the way to heauenheaven aread,
ThenThan thou thy selfe, that was both borne and bred
In heuenly throne, where thousand Angels shine?
Thou doest the praiers of the righteous sead
Present before the maiestymajesty
And his auengingavenging wrath to clemency incline.
Yet since thou bidst, thy pleasure shalbe
Then come thou man of earth, and see the way,
That neuernever yet was seene of Faries sonne,
That neuernever leads the traueilertraveiler astray,
But after labors long, and sad delay,
BringsBring them to ioyousjoyous rest and endlesse blis.
But first thou must a season fast and pray,
Till from her bands the spright assoiled is,
And hauehave her strength recur'd fromf rom fraile infirmitis.
That done, he leads him to the highest
Such one, as that same mighty man of God,
That blood-red billowes like a walled front
On either side disparted with his rod,
Till that his army dry-foot through them yod,
Dwelt forty daies vponupon; where writt in stone
VVithWith bloody letters by the hand of God,
The bitter doome of death and balefull mone
He did receiuereceive, whiles flashing fire about him shone.
Or like that sacred hill, whose head full
Adornd with fruitfull OliuesOlives all arownd,
Is, as it were for endlesse memory
Of that deare Lord, who oft thereon was fownd,
For euerever with a flowring girlond crownd:
Or like that pleasaunt Mount, that is for ay
Through famous Poets verse each where renownd,
On which the thrise three learned
Their heuenly notes, and make full many a louelylovely lay.
From thence, far off he vntounto him did shew
A litle path, that was both steepe and long,
Which to a goodly Citty led his vew;
Whose wals and towres were builded high &and strong
Of perle and precious stone, that earthly tong
Cannot describe, nor wit of man can tell;
Too high a ditty for my simple song:
The Citty of the greate king hight it well,
Wherein eternall peace and happinesse
As he thereon stood gazing, he might
The blessed Angels to and fro
From highest heuenheven, in gladsome
And with great ioyjoy into that Citty wend,
As commonly as frend does with his frend.
Whereat he wondred much, and gan enquere,
What stately building durst so high extend
Her lofty towres vntounto the starry sphere,
And what vnknowenunknowen nation there empeopled were.
(qd.quoth he) that is,
The new Hierusalem, that God has
For those to dwell in, that are chosen his,
His chosen people purg'd from sinful guilt,
With pretiouspiteouspittious blood, which cruelly was spilt
On cursed tree, of that vnspottedunspotted lam,
That for the sinnes of al the world was kilt:
Now are they Saints all in that Citty sam,
More dear vntounto their God, 57.9. then: thanthenthan
yoũglingsyounglings to their dam.
Till now, said then the knight, I weened
That great Cleopolis, where I hauehave beene,
In which that fairest Fary Queene
The fairest Citty was, that might be seene;
And that bright towre all built of christall clene,
Panthea, seemd the brightest thing, that was:
But now by proofe all otherwise I weene;
For this great Citty that does far surpas,
And this bright Angels towre quite dims
that towre of glas.
Most trew, then said the holy aged
Yet is Cleopolis for earthly framefame,
The fairest peece, that eie beholden can:
And well beseemes all knights of noble name,
That couettcovett in th'immortall booke of fame
To be eternized, that same to haunt,
And doen their seruiceservice to that soueraignesoveraigne Dame,
That glory does to them for guerdon graunt:
For she is heuenlyhevenly borne, and heauenheaven may iustlyjustly vaunt.
And thou faire ymp, sprong out from
How euerever now accompted Elfins sonne,
Well worthy doest thy seruiceservice for her grace,
To aide a virgin desolate foredonne.
But when thou famous victory hast wonne,
And high emongst all knights hast hong thy shield,
Thenceforth the suitt of earthly conquest shonne,
And wash thy hands from guilt of bloody field:
For blood can nought but sin, &and wars but sorrows yield.
Then seek this path, that I to thee
Which after all to heauenheaven shall thee send;
Then peaceablypeaceable to thy painefull pilgrimage
To yonder same Hierusalem doe
Where is for thee ordaind a blessed end:
For thou emongst those Saints, whom thou doest see,
Shalt be a Saint, and thine owne nations frend
And Patrone: thou Saint George shalt called bee,
Saint George of
mery England, the signe of victoree.
VnworthyUnworthy wretch (qd.quoth he) of so
How dare I thinke such glory to attaine;
These that hauehave it attaynd, were in like cace
As wretched men, and liuedlived in
like paine(Quoth he) as wretched, and liu'dliv'd in
But deeds of armes must I at last be faine,
And Ladies louelove to leaueleave so dearely bought?
What need of armes, where peace doth ay remaine,
(Said he) and bitter battailes all are fought?(Said he) and bitter battailes all
ate fought?(Said he) and battailes none are to be
As for loose louesloves
they'areare vaine, &and vanish into nought.
O let me not (quoth he) then turne
Backe to the world, whose ioyesjoyes so fruitlesse are,are;
But let me heare for aie in peace remaine,
Or streight way on that last long voiage fare,
That nothing may my present hope empare.
That may not be (said he) ne maist thou yitt
Forgoe that royal maides bequeathed care,
Who did her cause into thy hand committ,
Till from her cursed foe thou hauehave her freely quitt.
Then shall I soone,
(qd.quoth he) so God me grace,
Abett that virgins cause disconsolate,
And shortly back returne vntounto this place,
To walke this way in Pilgrims poore estate.
But now aread, old father, why of late
Didst thou behight me borne of English blood,
Whom all a Faeries sonne doendoen then nominate?
That word shall I (said he) auouchenavouchen good,
Sith to thee is vnknowneunknowne the cradle of thy brood.
For well I wote, thou springst from
Of Saxon kinges, that hauehave with mightie hand
And many bloody battailes fought in place,faceplace
High reard their royall throne in Britans land
And vanquisht them, vnableunable to withstand:
From thence a Faery thee vnweetingunweeting reft,
There as thou slepst in tender swadling band,
And her base Elfin brood there for thee left.
Such men do Chaungelings call, so chaungd
by Faeries theft.
Thence she thee brought into this Faery
And in an heaped furrow did thee hyde,
Where thee a Ploughman all vnweetingunweeting fond,
As he his toylesome teme that way did guyde,
And broughtbtought thee vpup in ploughmans state to byde,
Whereof Georgos he thee gauegave to name;
Till prickt with courage, and thy forces pryde,
To Fary court thou cam'st to seeke for fame,
And proueprove thy puissaunt armes, as seemes thee best became.
O holy Sire (quoth he) how shall I
The many fauoursfavours I with thee hauehave fownd,
That hast my name and nation redd aright,
And taught the way that does to heauenheaven bownd?
This saide, adowne he looked to the grownd,
To hauehave returnd, but dazed were his eyne,
Through passing brightnes, which did quite cõfoundconfound
His feeble sence, and too exceeding shyne.
So darke are earthly thinges compard to
At last whenas himselfe he gan to
To VnaUna back he cast him to retyre;
Who him awaited still with pensiuepensive mynd.
Great thankes and goodly meed to that good syre,
He thens departing gauegave for his paynes hyre.
So came to VnaUna, who him ioydjoyd to see,
And after litle rest, gan him desyre,
Of her aduentureadventure myndfull for to bee.
So leaueleave they take of Cœlia, and her daughters three.