Sir Guyon layd is by
Arthure soone hath reskewed
And Paynim brethren foyld.
That may compassion of their euillesevilles
There is: else much more wretched were the cace
Of men 1.5. then: thanthenthan beasts. But O th’exceeding grace
Of highest God, that louesloves his creatures so,
That blessed , he
sends to and fro,
To serueserve to wicked man, to serueserve his wicked foe.
How oft do they, their siluersilver bowers leaueleave,
To come to succour
vsus, that succour want,want?
How oft do they with golden pineons, cleauecleave
The flitting skyes, like
Against fowle feendes to ayd vsus
They for vsus fight, they watch and dewly ward,
nothing for reward:
During the while, that Guyon did abide
By further search had passage found elsewhere,
And being on his way, approched neare,
lay in traunce, when suddeinly
He heard a voyce, that called lowd and cleare,
Come hether, come hether, O come hastily;
That all the fields resounded with the
The Palmer lent his eare vntounto the noyce,
To weet, who called so importunely:
Againe he heard a more voyce,
That bad him come in haste. He by and by
His feeble feet directed to the cry;
Which to that shady deluedelve him brought at last,
earst did :
There the good
Guyon he found slumbring fast
In ; which sight at first him sore aghast.
there satt ,
Of wondrouswondtous beauty, and of freshest yeares,
Whose tender bud to blossome new began,
And florish faire aboueabove his equall peares;
curled with golden heares,
Like Phoebus face
adornd with sunny rayes,
DiuinelyDivinely shone, and two sharpe ,
Decked with diuersediverse plumes, ,
Were fixed at his backe, to cut his ayery
as Cupido on ,
When hauinghaving laid his cruell bow away,
And mortall arrowes, wherewith he doth fill
The world with murdrous spoiles and bloody pray,
With his faire mother he him dights to play,
And with , Graces three;
The Goddesse pleased with his wanton play,
Suffers her selfe to bee,
The whiles the other Ladies mind theyr mery
Whom when the Palmer saw, abasht he was
Through fear and wonder, that he nought could say,
Till him the
bespoke, Long lackt, alas,
Hath bene thy faithfull aide in hard assay,
Whiles deadly fitt thy pupill doth dismay;
Behold this heauyheavy sight, thou reuerendreverend Sire,
But dread of death and dolor doe away;
For life ere long shall to her home retire,
And he that breathlesse seems, shal corage bold
Of his deare safety, I to thee commend;
Yet will I not forgoe, ne yet forgett
The care thereof my selfe vntounto the end,
But euermoreevermore him succour, and defend
Against his foe and mine: watch thou I pray;
For euillevill is at hand him to .
So hauinghaving said, eftsoones he gan display
His painted nimble wings, and vanisht quite away.
The Palmer seeing his lefte empty place,
And his slow eies beguiled of their sight,
Woxe sore affraid, and standing still a space,
Gaz’d after him, ;
At last him turning to his charge behight,
With trembling hand his troubled pulse gan try,
Where finding life not yet dislodged quight,
At last he spide, where towards him did
Two knights, al armd as bright as skie,
And far before a light-foote Page did flie,
That breathed strife and troublous enmitie;
Those were the old,
of him were told,
That he, which earst them combatted, was
Which to auengeavenge on him they dearly vowd,
Where euerever that on ground they mote him find;
prouokteprovokte their corage prowd,
Now bene they come, whereas the Palmer sate,
Keeping that corse to him assind;
Well knew they both his person, sith of late
With him in bloody armes they rashly did debate.
Whom when PyrochlesPyrrhochles saw, inflam’d with rage,
That sire he fowl bespake, Thou dotard vile,
That with thy brutenesse
shendst thy age,
Abandon soone, I read, the caytiuecaytive spoile
Of that same outcast carcas, that ere whileerewhileere whfle
felfe famous through false trechery,
And crownd his coward crest with knightly stile;
Loe where he now inglorious doth lye,
To prooueproove he liuedlived il, that did thus fowly dye.
To whom the Palmer fearlesse answered,
Certes, Sir knight, ye bene too much to blame,
Thus for to blott the honor of the dead,
And with fowle cowardize his carcas shame,
Whose liuingliving handes immortalizd his name.
Vile is the vengeaunce on the ashes cold,
And at sleeping
Was neuernever wight, that treason of him told;
Your self his prowesse prou’dprov’d
&and found him fiers &and bold.
Then sayd Cymochles, Palmer, thou doest dote,
Ne canst of prowesse, ne of knighthood deeme,
SaueSave as thou seest or hearst. But well I wote,
That of his puissaunce tryall made extreeme;
Ne all good knights, that shake well speare &and shield:
Good or bad, gan his brother fiers
What doe I recke, sith
that he dide entire?
Or what doth his bad death now satisfy,
The greedy hunger of reuengingrevenging yre;
Sith wrathfull hand wrought not her owne desire?
Yet since no way is lefte to wreake my spight,
I will him reauereave of armes, the victors hire,
And of that shield, more worthy of good knight;
For why should a dead dog be deckt in
Fayr Sir, said then the Palmer
For knighthoods louelove, doe not so fowle a deed,
Ne blame your honor
with so shamefull vaunt
Of vile reuengerevenge.
But leaueleave these relicks of his liuingliving might,
To decke his herce, and trap his tomblacketomb-blacketomb-black steed.
What herce or steed (said he) should he hauehave
With that, rude hand vponupon his shield he laid,
And th’other brother gan his helme vnlaceunlace,
Both fiercely bent to hauehave him disaraid;
Till that they spyde, where towards them did pace
An armed knight, of bold and bounteous grace,
Whose squire bore after him an heben launce,
Th’enchaunter by his armes and amenaunce,
When vnderunder him he saw his Lybian steed to praunce.
And to those brethren sayd, Rise rise byliuebylive,
And vntounto batteil doe yourseluesyourselves addresse;
For yonder comes the prowest knight aliuealive,
Prince Arthur, flowre of grace and nobilesse,
That hath to Paynim knights wrought gret
And thousand fowly donne to dye.
That word so deepe did in their harts impresse,
That both eftsoones vpstartedupstarted furiously,
And gan themseluesthemselves prepare to batteill greedily.
The want thereof now greatly gan to plaine,
And Archimage besought, him that afford,
Which he had brought for BraggadochioBraggadocchio vaine.
So would I (said th’enchaunter) glad and faine
Beteeme to you this
sword, you to defend,
Or ought that els your honor might maintaine,
But that this weapons powre I well hauehave
To be contrary to the worke, which ye
For that same knights owne sword this is of
made by his almightie art,
For that his noursling, when he knighthood swore,
Therewith to doen his foes eternall smart.
The metall first he mixt with ,
That no enchauntment from his dint might sauesave;
Then it in flames of
The vertue is, that nether steele, nor
The stroke thereof from entraunce may defend;
Ne euerever may be vsedused by his ,
Ne forst his rightful
owner to offend,
Ne euerever will it breake, ne euerever bend.
rightfully is hight.
In vaine therefore, PyrhochlesPyrrhochles, should I lend
The same to thee, against his lord to fight,
For sure yt would deceiuedeceive thy labor, and thy might.
Foolish old man, said then the Pagan
That weenest words or charms may force withstond:
Soone shalt thou see, and then beleeuebeleeve for troth,
Therewith out of his hond
That steele he
rudely snatcht away,
shield about his wrest he bond;
So ready dight, fierce battaile to assay,
And match his brother proud in battailous
By this that straunger knight in presence
And goodly them; who nought againe
Him answered, as courtesie became,
But with sterne lookes, and stomachous disdaine,
GaueGave signes of grudge and discontentment vaine:
Then turning to the Palmer, he gan spy
Where at his feet, with sorrowfull demayne
And deadly hew, an armed corse did lye,
In whose dead face he redd great .
Sayd he then to the Palmer, ReuerendReverend syre,
What great misfortune hath betidd this knight?
Or did his life her fatall date expyre,
Or did he fall by treason, or by fight?
How euerever, sure I rew his pitteous plight.
Not one, nor other, sayd the Palmer grauegrave,
Hath him befalne, but cloudes of deadly night
A while his heauyheavy eylids couercover’d hauehave,
And all his sences drowned in deep
Which, those his cruell
foes, that stand hereby,
Making aduauntageadvauntage, to reuengerevenge their spight,
Would him disarme, and treaten shamefully,
vsageusage of redoubted knight.
But you, faire Sir, whose honourable sight
Doth promise hope of helpe, and timely
Mote I beseech to succour his sad plight,
And by your powre protect his feeble cace.
First prayse of knighthood is, fowle
outrage to .
Palmer, (said he) no knight so rude, I
As to doen outrage to a sleeping ghost:
Ne was there euerever noble corage seene,
That in aduauntageadvauntage would his puissaunce bost:
Honour is least, where oddes appeareth most.
May bee, that better reason will aswage,
The rash reuengersrevengers heat.
If not, leaueleave
vntounto me thy knights last patronagepatonagepat⁀ronage.
Tho turning to those brethren, thus
Ye warlike payre, whose valorous great might
It seemes, iustjust wronges to vengeaunce doe prouokeprovoke,
To wreake your wrath on this dead seeming knight,
Mote ought allay the storme of your despight,
And settle patience in so furious heat?
But for this carkas pardon I entreat,
Whom fortune hath already laid in lowest
To whom Cymochles said, For what art thou,
The vengeaunce prest? Or who shall let me now,
On this vile body from to wreak my wrong,
And make his carkas as the outcast dong?
Why should not that dead carrion satisfye
The guilt, which if he liuedlived had thus long,
His life for dew reuengerevenge should deare abye?
The trespas still doth liuelive, albee the person dye.
But gentle knight,
That doth against the dead his hand ,
His honour staines with rancour and despight,
And great disparagment makes to his former
Pyrrhochles gan reply the
And to him said, Now felon sure I read,
How that thou art partaker of his cryme:
thou shalt be dead.
With that his hand, more sad
30.5. then: thanthenthan lomp of lead,
VpliftingUplifting high, he weened with Morddure,
His owne good sword Morddure, to cleauecleave his head.
The faithfull steele such treason n’ouldno’uld endure,
But swaruingswarving from the marke, his Lordes life did assure.
Yet was the force so furious and so
That horse and man it made to reele asyde;
Nath’lesse the Prince would not forsake his sell:
For well of yore he learned had to ryde,
But full of anger fiersly to him cryde;
But thou thy treasons fruit, I hope, shalt taste
Right sowre, &and feele the law, the which thou hast
With that his balefull speare, he fiercely
Against the PagansPagons brest, and therewith thought
His cursed life out of her lodg hauehave rent:
But ere the point arriuedarrived, where it ought,
He cast between toward the bitter stownd:
Through all those foldes the steelehead passage wrought
And through his shoulder perst; wherwith to groũdground
He grouelinggroveling fell, all gored in his gushing wound.
Which when his brother saw, fraught with
And wrath, he to him leaped furiously,
And fowly saide, By ,
That direfull stroke thou dearely shalt aby.
Then hurling vpup his harmefull blade on hy,
Smote him so hugely on his haughtie crest,
That from his saddle forced him to fly:
downe to his manly brest
HaueHave cleft his head in twaine, and life thence
Now was the Prince in daungerous
Wanting his sword, when he on foot should fight:
His single speare could doe
him small redresse,
Against two foes of so exceeding might,
The least of which was match for any knight.
And now the other, whom he earst did daunt,
Had reard him selfe againe to cruel fight,
Three times more furious, and more puissaunt,
VnmindfullUnmindfull of his wound, of his fate ignoraunt.
So both attonce him charge on either
With hideous strokes, and importable powre,
That forced him his
ground to trauersetraverse wyde,
And wisely watch to ward that deadly :
For in his shield, as thicke as stormie showre,
Their strokes did raine, yet did he neuernever quaile,
Ne backward shrinke, but as a stedfast towre,
Whom foe with doubledoubly battry doth assaile,
Them on her bulwarke beares, and bids them
So stoutly he withstood their strong assay,
Till that at last, when he aduantageadvantage spyde,
His poynant speare he
thrust with puissant sway
At proud Cymochles, whiles his shield was wyde,
That through his thigh the mortall steele did :
He swaruingswarving with the force, within his flesh
Did breake the launce, and let the head abyde:
Out of the wound the redblood flowed fresh,
That vnderneathunderneath his feet soone made a purple plesh.
Horribly then he gan to rage, and
Cursing , and
him selfe damning deepe:
Als when his brother saw the redblood rayletraile
Adowne so fast and all his armour steepe,
For very felnesse lowd
he gan to weepe,
And said, CaytiueCaytive, cursse on thy cruell hond,
That twise hath spedd, yet shall it not thee keepe
From the third brunt of this my fatall :
Lo where the dreadfull Death behynd thy
backe doth stond.
With that he strooke, and thother strooke withall,
That nothing seemd mote beare so mõstrousmonstrous might:
vponupon his coueredcovered shield did fall,
And glauncing downe would not :
But th’other did vponupon his smyte,
Which hewing quite a sunderasunder, further way
It made, and on his hacqueton did lyte,
The which diuidingdividing with importune sway,
That when the Paynym spyde the streaming blood,
GaueGave him great hart, andaud hope of victory.
On thother side, in huge perplexity,
The Prince now stood, hauinghaving his weapon broke;
Nought could he hurt, but still at warde did ly:
Yet with his troncheon he so rudely stroke
Cymochles twise, that twise
him forst his foot reuokerevoke.
Whom when the Palmer saw in such
sword he lightly to him raught,
And said, fayre Sonne, great god thy right hãdhand
To vseuse that sword
ſo well, as
heso well, as he
ſo wiſely asso wisely as
Glad was the knight, &and with fresh courage fraught,
When as againe he armed felt his hond;
So fierce he laid about him, and dealt
On either side, that neither mayle could hold,
Ne shield defend the thunder of his throwes:
Now to Pyrrhochles many strokes he told;
Eft to Cymochles twise so many fold:
Then backe againe turning his busie hond,
Them both atonce compeld with courage bold,
To yield wide way to his hart-thrilling brond;
And though they both stood stiffe, yet
could not both withstond.
Bull, whom two fierce mastiuesmastives bayt,
Forgets with wary warde them to awayt,
But with his dreadfull hornes them driuesdrives afore,
Or flings aloft or treades downe in the flore,
Breathing out wrath, and bellowing disdaine,
That all the forest quakes to heare him rore:
So rag’d Prince Arthur twixt his foemen twaine,
That neither could his mightie puissaunce
But euerever at Pyrrhochles
when he smitt,
shield cast euerever him before,before.
His hand relented, and the stroke forbore,
And his deare hart the picture gan adore,
Which oft the Paynim sau’dsav’d from deadly .
But him henceforth the same can sauesave no more;
For now arriuedarrived is his fatall howre,
auoydedavoyded be by earthly skill or powre.
For when Cymochles saw the fowle reproch,
Which them appeached,
prickt with guiltiegultyguilty shame,
And inward griefe, he fiercely gan approch,
Resolu’dResolv’d to put away that loathly blame,
Or dye with honour and desert of fame;
And on the haubergh
stroke the Prince so sore,
That quite disparted all the linked frame,
And pierced to the skin, but bit not thoreno more,
Yet made him twise to reele, that neuernever
Whereat with wrath and sharp
He stroke so hugely with his borrowd blade,
empearc’t the Pagans burganet,
And cleauingcleaving the hard steele, did deepe inuadeinvade
Into his head, and cruell passage made
Quite through his brayne.
Which when his german saw, the stony feare,
Ran to his hart, and all his sence dismayd,
Ne thenceforth life ne corage did appeare,
But as a man, whom hellish feendes hauehave
Long trembling still he stoode: at last thus sayd,
Traytour what hast thou doen? how euerever may
Thy cursed hand so cruelly hauehave swayd
Against that knight: ,
After so wicked deede why liu’stliv’st thou lenger day?
With that all desperate as loathing
Assembling all his force and vtmostutmost might,
And strooke, and foynd,
and lasht outrageously,
Withouten reason or regard. Well knew
The Prince, with pacience and sufferaunce sly
So hasty heat soone cooled to subdew:
Tho when this breathlesse woxe, that batteil gan
As when a windy tempest bloweth hye,
That nothing may withstand his stormy stowre,
The clowdes, as thinges affrayd, before him flye;
But all so soone as his outrageous powre
Is layd, they fiercely then begin to showre,
And as in scorne of his spent stormy spight,
Now all attonce their malice forth do poure;
So did Prince ArthurSir Guyon beare himselfe in
And suffred rash Pyrrhochles waste his ydle might.
But him in strength and skill the Prince surpast,
And through his nimble sleight did vnderunder him down
Nought booted it the Paynim then to striuestrive;
So he now subiectsubject to the victours law,
Did not once mouemove, nor vpwardupward cast his eye,
For vile disdaine and rancour, which did gnaw
His hart in twaine with sad
As one that loathed life, and yet despysd
But full of princely bounty and ,
The Conquerour nought cared him to slay,
But casting wronges and all reuengerevenge behind,
More glory thought to giuegive life, 51.4. then: thanthenthan
And sayd, Paynim, this is thy ;
Yet if thou wilt renounce thy ,
And my trew
yield thy selfe for ay,
Life will I graunt thee for thy valiaunce,
And all thy wronges will wipe out of my souenauncesovenaunce.
(sayd the Pagan) I thy gift defye,
And say, that I not ouercomeovercome doe dye,
But in despight of life, for death doe call.
Wroth was the Prince, and sory yet withall,
That he so wilfully refused grace;
Yet sith his fate so cruelly did fall,
By this Sir Guyon from his traunce awakt,
Life hauinghaving maystered ;
And looking vpup, when as his shield he lakt,
And sword saw not, he wexed wondrous woe:
But when the Palmer, whom he long ygoe
Had lost, he by him spyde, right glad he grew,
And saide, Deare sir, whom wandring to and fro
I long hauehave lackt, I ioyjoy thy face to vew;
But read, what wicked hand hath robbed
Of my good sword and shield? The Palmer glad,
With so fresh hew vprysinguprysing him to see,
Him answered; fayre sonne, be no whit sad
For want of weapons, they shall soone be had.had,had.
So gan he to discourse the whole debate,
Which that straunge knight for him sustained had.
And those two Sarazins confounded late,
Whose carcases on ground were horribly
Which when he heard, and saw ,
His hart with great affection was ,
And to the Prince bowingwith
As to , thus sayd;
My Lord, , by
whose most gratious ayd
I liuelive this day, and see my foes subdewd,
What may suffise, to be for meede repayd
Of so great graces, as ye hauehave me shewd,
Are not all knightes by oath bound, to withstond
Oppressours powre by armes and puissant hond?
Suffise, that I hauehave done my dew in place.
The whiles false Archimage and Atin