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XXXVI.

But if that careless heavens (quoth fhe) defpife
The doom of juft revenge, and take delight
To fee fad pageants of mens miferies,

As bound by them to live in lives defpight;
Yet can they not warn death from wretched wight.
Come then, come foon, come fweeteft death to me,
And take away this long lent loathed light:

Sharp be thy wounds, but fweet the medcines be, That long captived fouls from weary thraldome free. XXXVII.

But thou, fweet babe, whom frowning froward fate
Hath made fad witness of thy fathers fall,

Sith heaven thee deigns to hold in living state,
Long mayft thou live, and better thrive withall,
Than to thy lucklefs parents did befall :
Live thou, and to thy mother dead attest,
That clear fhe dy'd from blemish criminal;
Thy little hands embrewd in bleading breast,
Lo I for pledges leave. So give me leave to reft.
XXXVIII.

With that, a deadly fhriek fhe forth did throw,
That through the wood re-ecchoed again:
And after, gave a grone so deep and low,
That feem'd her tender heart was rent in twain,
Or thrild with point of thorough piercing pain;
As gentle hind, whofe fides with cruel fteel
Through launced, forth her bleeding life does rain,
Whiles the fad pang approching she does feel,
Brayes out her lateft breath, and up her eyes doth feel.
XXXIX.

Which when that warriour heard, difmounting ftraict
From his tall fteed, he rusht into the thick,
And foon arrived, where that fad pourtraict
Of death and dolour lay, half dead, half quick,
In whose white alablafter breast did stick

A cruel knife that made a griefly wound,

From which forth gusht a ftream of gore-blood thick That all her goodly garments ftaind around, And into a deep fanguine dide the graffy ground.

XL.

Pitiful fpectacle of deadly fmart,

Befide a bubling fountain low fhe lay,
Which the increased with her bleeding heart,
And the clean waves with purple gore did ray;
Als in her lap a lovely babe did play
His cruel fport, inftead of forrow dew;
For in her streaming blood he did embay
His little hands, and tender joynts embrew;
Pitiful fpectacle, as ever eye did view.

XLI.

Befide them both upon the foiled grafs,

The dead corfe of an armed Knight was fpred,
Whofe armour all with blood befprinkled was;
His ruddy lips did fmile, and rofie red
Did paint his chearful cheeks, yet being dead:
Seem'd to have been a goodly perfonage,
Now in his freshest flowre of lufty head,
Fit to enflame fair Lady with loves rage,
But that fierce fate did crop the bloffom of his age.
XLII.

Whom when the good Sir Guyon did behold,
His heart 'gan wex as ftark as marble stone,
And his freth blood did frieze with fearful cold,
That all his fenfes feem'd bereft attone :

At laft his mighty Ghoft 'gan deep to grone,
As Lyon (grudging in his deep difdain).
Mourns inwardly, and makes to himself mone;
Till ruth and frail affection did constrain

His courage ftout to ftoop, and fhew his inward pain.

XLIII.

Out of her gored wound the cruel fteel,

He lightly fnatcht, and did the flood-gate ftop
With his fair garment: then 'gan foftly feel
Her feeble pulie, to prove if any drop
Of living blood yet in her veins did hop;
Which when he felt to move, he hoped fair
To call back life to her forfaken shop;
So well he did her deadly wounds repair,
That at the laft fhe 'gan to breathe out living air.

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XLIV.

Which he perceiving, greatly 'gan rejoice,
And goodly counfel (that for wounded heart
Is meetest med'cine) tempred with sweet voice;
Ay me! dear Lady, which the image art
Of rueful pity, and impatient fmart,

What direful chance, arm'd with avenging fate,
Or curfed hand hath plaid this cruel part,

Thus foul to haften your untimely date?
Speak, O dear Lady speak: help never comes too late.
XLV.

Therewith her dim eye-lids fhe up 'gan rear,
On which the drery death did fit, as fad
As lump of lead, and made dark clouds appear;
But whenas him (all in bright armour clad)
Before her standing the efpied had,

As one out of a deadly dream affright,
She weakly started, yet fhe nothing drad:
Streight down again her felf in great defpight,

She groveling threw to ground, as hating life and light.
XLVI.

The gentle Knight, her foon with careful pain
Uplifted light, and foftly did uphold:

Thrice he her reard, and thrice fhe funk again,
Till he his arms about her fides 'gan fold,
And to her faid; yet if the ftony cold
Have not all feized on your frozen heart,
Let one word fall that may your grief unfold,
And tell the fecret of your mortal smart;

He oft finds prefent help, who does his grief impart.
XLVII.

Then cafting up a deadly look, full low

She fight from bottom of her wounded breaft;
And after many bitter throbs did throw,

With lips full pale, and foltring tongue oppreft,
These words fhe breathed forth from riven cheft;
Leave, ah leave off, "what ever wight thou be,
To let a weary wretch from her due reit,
And trouble dying fouls tranquillitee.

Take not away now got, which none would give to me.

XLVIII.

Ah! far be it (faid he) dear Dame from me,
To hinder foul from her defired reft,
Or hold fad life in long captivitee:
For all I feek, is but to have redrest
The bitter pangs, that doth your heart infest.
Tell then (O Lady) tell what fatal prief
Hath with fo huge misfortune you opprest?
That I may caft to compass your relief,
Or dye with you in forrow, and partake your grief.
XLIX.

With feeble hands then stretched forth on high,
As heaven accufing guilty of her death,
And with dry drops congealed in her eye,
In these fad words fhe spent her utmost breath:
Hear then (O man) the forrows that uneath
My tongue can tell, fo far all fense they pass:
Lo this dead corpfe, that lyes here underneath,
The gentleft Knight, that ever on green grafs
Gay fteed with spurs did prick, the good Sir Moredant was.
L.

Was (ay the while, that he is not fo now!)

My Lord, my love: my dear Lord, my dear love,
So long as heavens just with equal brow
Vouchfafed to behold us from above,

One day when him high courage did emmove
(As wont ye Knights to feek adventures wild)
He pricked forth his puiffant force to prove,
Me then he left enwombed of this child,

This lucklefs child, whom thus ye fee with blood defil'd.
LI.

Him fortuned (hard fortune ye may guess)
To come where vile Acrafia does wonne,
Acrafia, a falfe Enchanteress,

That many errant Knights hath foul fordon:
Within a wandring Ifland, that doth run,
And ftray in perilous gulf, her dwelling is;
Fair Sir, if ever there ye travel, fhun
The curfed land where many wend amiss,

And know it by the name; it hight the Bowre of bliss.

LII.

Her blifs is all in pleasure and delight,

Wherewith fhe makes her lovers drunken mad;
And then with words and weeds of wondrous might,
On them fhe works her will to ufes bad:
My liefeft Lord fhe thus beguiled had;

For he was flesh: (all flesh doth frailty breed.)
Whom when I heard to been fo ill beftad,

(Weak wretch) I wrapt myself in Palmers weed, And caft to feek him forth through danger and great dreed.

LIII.

Now had fair Cynthia by even turns

Full measured three quarters of her year,

And thrice three times had fill'd her crooked horns,
Whenas my womb her burden would forbear,
And bade me call Lucina to me near.

Lucina came: a man-child forth I brought:

The woods, the nymphs, my bowres, my midwives were; Hard help at need. So dear thee babe I bought; Yet nought too dear I deem'd, while fo my dear I fought.

LIV.

Him fo I fought, and fo at laft I found,

Where him that Witch had thralled to her will,
In chains of luft, and lewd defires ybound,
And fo transformed from his former fkill,
That me he knew not, neither his own ill;
Till through wife handling, and fair governance,
I him recured to a better will,

Purged from drugs of foul intemperance:
Then means l'gan devife for his deliverance.
LV.

Which when the vile Enchanterefs perceiv'd,
How that my Lord from her I would reprieve,
With cup thus charm'd, him parting the deceiv'd;
Sad verfe, give death to him that death does give.
And lofs of Love, to her that loves to live,
So foon as Bacchus with the Nymph does link:
So parted we, and on our Journey drive,
Till coming to this Well, he ftoopt to drink,
The charm fulfill'd, dead fuddainly he down did fink.

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