15

Behold, O man, that toilesome paines doest take, The flowres, the fields, and all that pleasant growes,

How they themselues doe thine ensample make, Whiles nothing enuious nature them forth throwes

Out of her fruitfull lap; how, no man knowes, They spring, they bud, they blossome fresh and faire, [showes; And deck the world with their rich pompous Yet no man for them taketh paines or care, Yet no man to them can his carefull paines compare. 16

The lilly, Ladie of the flowring field,

The Flowre-deluce, her louely Paramoure, Bid thee to them thy fruitlesse labours yield, Andsooneleaue off this toylesome weariestoure; Loe loe how braue she decks her bounteous boure,

With silken curtens and gold couerlets, Therein to shrowd her sumptuous Belamoure, Yetneitherspinnes nor cardes, ne cares nor frets, But to her mother Nature all her care she lets.

17

Why then dost thou, O man, that of them all
Art Lord, and eke of nature Soueraine,
Wilfully make thy selfe a wretched thrall,
And wast thy ioyous houres in needlesse paine,
Seeking for daunger and aduentures vaine ?
What bootes it all to haue, and nothing vse ?
Whoshallhim rew, that swimming in the maine,
Will die for thirst, and water doth refuse?
Refuse such fruitlesse toile, and present plea-
sures chuse.
18

By this she had him lulled fast a sleepe,
That of no worldly thing he care did take;
Then she with liquors strong his eyes did steepe,
That nothing should him hastily awake:
So she him left, and did her selfe betake
Vnto her boat againe, with which she cleft
The slouthfull waue of that great griesly lake;
Soone she that Island farre behind her left,
And now is come to that same place, where first
she weft.

19

By this time was the worthy Guyon brought Vnto the other side of that wide strond, Where she was rowing, and for passage sought: Him needed not long call, she soone to hond Her ferry brought, where him she byding fond, With his sad guide; himselfe she tooke a boord, But the Blacke Palmer suffred still to stond, Ne would for price, or prayers once affoord, To ferry that old man ouer the perlous foord.

25

And she more sweet, then any bird on bough,
Would oftentimes emongst them beare a part,
And striue to passe (as she could well enough)
Their natiue musicke by her skilfull art :
So did she all, that might his constant hart
Withdraw from thought of warlike enterprize,
And drowne in dissolute delights apart,
Where noyse of armes, or vew of martiall guize
Might not reuiue desire of knightly exercize.
26

But he was wise, and warie of her will,
And euer held his hand vpon his hart:
Yet would not seeme so rude, and thewed ill,
As to despise so courteous seeming part,
That gentle Ladie did to him impart,
But fairely tempring fond desire subdewd,
And euer her desired to depart.

She list not heare, but her disports poursewd, And euer bad him stay, till time the tide renewd.

30

Cymochles, that had neuer met before
So puissant foe, with enuious despight
His proud presumed force increased more,
Disdeigning to be held so long in fight;
Sir Guyon grudging not so much his might,
As those vnknightly raylings, which he spoke,
With wrathfull fire his courage kindled bright,
Thereof deuising shortly to be wroke,
And doubling all his powres, redoubled euery

stroke.

31

40

With that he stiffely shooke his steelehead dart: But sober Guyon, hearing him so raile, Though somewhat moued in his mightie hart, Yet with strong reason maistred passion fraile, And passed fairely forth. He turning taile, Backe to the strond retyrd,and there still stayd, Awaiting passage, which him late did faile; The whiles Cymochles with that wanton mayd The hastie heat of his auowd reuenge delayd.

41

Whylest there the varlet stood, he saw from farre
An armed knight, that towards him fast ran,
He ran on foot, as if in lucklesse warre
His forlorne steed from him the victour wan;
He seemed breathlesse, hartlesse, faint, and

wan.

And all his armour sprinckled was with bloud, And soyld with durtie gore, that no man can Discerne the hew thereof. He neuer stood, But bent his hastie course towards the idle flood. 42

The varlet saw, when to the flood he came, How without stop or stay he fiercely lept, And deepe him selfe beducked in the same, That in the lake his loftie crest was steept, Ne of his safetie seemed care he kept,

But with his raging armes he rudely flasht The waues about, and all his armour swept, That all the bloud and filth away was washt, Yet still he bet the water, and the billowes dasht.

43

Atin drew nigh, to weet what it mote bee;
For much he wondred at that vncouth sight;
Whom should he, but his owne deare Lord,
there see,

His owne deare Lord Pyrochles, in sad plight, Readie to drowne himselfe for fell despight. Harrow now out, and well away, he cryde, What dismall day hath lent this cursed light, To see my Lord so deadly damnifyde ? Pyrochles, O Pyrochles, what is thee betyde ?

44

I burne, I burne, I burne, then loud he cryde,
O how I burne with implacable fire,
Yet nought can quench mine inly flaming syde,
Nor sea of licour cold, nor lake of mire,
Nothing but death can doe me to respire.
Ah be it (said he) from Pyrochles farre
After pursewing death once to require,
Or think, that ought those puissant hands may

marre:

Death is for wretches borne vnder vnhappie

starre.

45

Perdie, then is it fit for me (said he)
That am, I weene, most wretched man aliue,
Burning in flames, yet no flames can I see,
And dying daily, daily yet reuiue:
O Atin, helpe to me last death to giue.
The varlet at his plaint was grieued so sore,
That his deepe wounded hart in two did riue,
And his owne health remembring now no more,
Did follow that ensample, which he blam'dafore.
46

Into the lake he lept, his Lord to ayd,

(So Loue the dread of daunger doth despise) And of him catching hold him strongly stayd From drowning. But more happiehe, then wise Of that seas nature did him not auise.

The waues thereof so slow and sluggish were, Engrost with mud, which did them foule agrise, That euery weightie thing they did vpbeare, Ne ought mote euer sinke downe to the bottome there.

50

That cursed man, that cruell feend of hell,
Furor, oh Furor hath me thus bedight:
His deadly wounds within my liuers swell,
And his whot fire burnes in mine entrails bright,
Kindled through his infernall brond of spight,
Sith late with him I batteil vaine would boste;
That now I weene Ioues dreaded thunder light
Does scorch not halfe sosore, nor damned ghoste
In flaming Phlegeton does not so felly roste.
51

Which when as Archimago heard, his griefe
He knew right well, and him attonce disarmd:
Then searcht his secret wounds, and made a
priefe

Of euery place, that was with brusing harmd,
Or with the hidden fire too inly warmd.
Which done, he balmes and herbes thereto
applyde,

And euermore with mighty spels them charmd, That in short space he has them qualifyde, And him restor❜d to health, that would haue algates dyde.

Cant. VII.

Guyon findes Mammon in a delue,
Sunning his threasure hore:
Is by him tempted, and led downe,
To see his secret store.

I

As Pilot well expert in perilous waue,
That to a stedfast starre his course hath bent,
When foggy mistes, or cloudy tempests haue
The faithfull light of that faire lampe yblent,
And couer'd heauen with hideous dreriment,
Vpon his card and compas firmes his eye,
The maisters of his long experiment,
And to them does the steddy helme apply,
Bidding his winged vessell fairely forward fly:

2

So Guyon hauing lost his trusty guide,
Late left beyond that Ydle lake, proceedes
Yet on his way, of none accompanide;
And euermore himselfe with comfort feedes,
Of his owne vertues, and prayse-worthy deedes.
So long he yode, yet no aduenture found,
Which fame of her shrill trompet worthy reedes:
For still he traueild through wide wastfull
ground,
[around.
That nought but desert wildernesse shew'd ell

3

At last he came vnto a gloomy glade, [light,
Couer'd with boughes and shrubs from heauens
Whereas he sitting found in secret shade
An vncouth, saluage, and vnciuile wight,
Of griesly hew, and fowle ill fauour'd sight;
His face with smoke was tand, and eyes were
bleard,

His head and beard with sout were ill bedight, His cole-blacke hands did seeme to haue beene seard

8

God of the world and worldlings I me call,
Great Mammon, greatest god below the skye,
That of my plenty poure out vnto all,
And vnto none my graces do enuye:
Riches, renowme, and principality,
Honour, estate, and all this worldes good,
For which men swinck and sweat incessantly,
Fro me do flow into an ample flood,

And in the hollow earth haue their eternall
brood.
9

His yron coate all ouergrowne with rust,
Was vnderneath enueloped with gold,
Whose glistring glosse darkned with filthy dust,
Well yet appeared, to haue beene of old
A worke of rich entayle, and curious mould,
Wouen with antickes and wild Imagery:
And in his lap a masse of coyne he told,
And turned vpsidowne, to feede his eye
And couetous desire with his huge threasury.

5

And round about him lay on euery side
Great heapes of gold, that neuer could be spent:
Of which some were rude owre, not purifide
Of Mulcibers deuouring element;

Some others were new driuen, and distent Into great Ingoes, and to wedges square; Some in round plates withouten moniment; But most were stampt, and in their metall bare The antique shapes of kings and kesars straunge and rare. 6

Soone as he Guyon saw, in great affright
And hast he rose, for to remoue aside
Those pretious hils from straungers enuious
sight,

[wide,
And downe them poured through an hole full
Into the hollow earth, them there to hide.
But Guyon lightly to him leaping, stayd
His hand, that trembled, as one terrifyde ;
And though himselfe were at the sight dismayd,
Yet him perforce restraynd, and to him doubt-
full sayd.

7

What art thou man, (if man at all thou art)
That here in desert hast thine habitaunce,
And these rich heapes of wealth doest hide apart
From the worldes eye,and from her right vsaunce?
Thereat with staring eyes fixed askaunce,
In great disdaine, he answerd; Hardy Elfe,
That darest vew my direfull countenaunce,
I read thee rash, and heedlesse of thy selfe,
To trouble my still seate, and heapes of pretious
pelfe.

At thy commaund lo all these mountaines bee;
Or if to thy great mind, or greedy vew
All these may not suffise, there shall to thee
Ten times somuch be numbred francke and free.
Mammon (said he)thy godheades vauntis vaine,
And idle offers of thy golden fee;

To them, that couet such eye-glutting gaine,
Proffer thy giftes, and fitter seruaunts entertaine.