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There he him found all carelesly display'd,

In secret shadow from the sunny ray,
On a sweet bed of Lillies softly laid,
Amidst a flock of Damzels fresh and gay,
That round about him dissolute did play
Their wanton follies, and light merriment;
Every of which did loosely disarray

Her upper parts of meet habiliments,
And Thew'd them naked, deckt with many ornaments,

And every of them (trove, with most delights,

Him to aggrate, and greatest pleasures Thew.
Some fram'd fair looks, glancing like evening lights,
Others sweet words, dropping like honey dew;
Some, bathed kisses, and did soft embrew
The sugred liquor through his melting lips :
One boasts her beauty, and does yield to view

Her dainty limbs above her tender hips :
Another her out-boasts, and all for tryal strips.

He like an Adder, lurking in the weeds,

His wandring thought in deep desire does steep,
And his frail eye with spoil of beauty feeds;
Sometimes he falny feigns himself to Neep,
Whiles through their lids his wanton eyes do peep,
To steal a snatch of amorous conceit,
Whereby close fire into his heart does creep:

So them deceives, deceiv'd in his deceipt,
Made drunk with drugs of dear voluptuous receipt.

Atin arriving there, when him he spy'd,

Thus in still waves of deep delight to wade,
Fiercely approaching, to him loudly cry'd,
Cymochles; o no, but Cymochles Ihade,
In which that manly person late did fade,
What is become of great Acrates Son?
Or where hath he hung up his mortal blade,

That hath so many haughty conquests won ?
Is all his force forlorn, and all his glory done?

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Then pricking him with his sharp pointed dart,

He said; Up; up, thou womanish weak Knight,
That here in Ladies lap entombed art,
Unmindful of thy praise and prowest might,
And weetless eke of lately wrought despight,
Whiles fad Pyrochles lies on sendels ground,
And groaneth out his utmost grudging fpright,

Through many a stroke, and many a streaming wound, Calling thy help in vain, that here in joys art drown'd.

Suddenly out of his delightful dream

The man awoke, and would have question'd m,
But he would not endure that woeful theam
For to dilate at large, but urged foré
With piercing words, and pitiful implore,
Him hafty to arise. As one affright
With hellith fiends, or Furies mad uprore,

He then uprose, infiam'd with fell despight,
And called for his arms; for he would algates fight,

They been ybrought; he quickly does him dight,

And lightly mounted, palseth on his way:
Ne Ladies loves, ne sweet entreaties might
Appease his heat, or hasty passage stay;
For he has vow'd to been aveng'd that day.
(That day itself him seemed all too long :)
On him, that did Pyrochles dear dismay:

So proudly pricketh on his courser strong,
And Atin aye him pricks with spurs of shame and wrong


Guyon is of immodest Mirth

Led into loose desire,
Fights with Cymochles, wbiles his Bro-

ther burns in furious fire.


A harder lefron, to learn continence

In joyous pleasure, than in grievous pain,
For sweetness doth allure the weaker sense
So strongly, that uneaths it can refrain
From that, which feeble nature covers fain:
But grief and wrath, that be her enemies,
And foes of life, the better can restrain

Yet vertue vaunts in both her victories,
And Guyon in them all shews goodly maysteries.

Whom bold Cymochles travelling to find,

With cruel purpose bent to wreak on him
The wrath, which Atin kindled in his mind,
Came to a river, hy whose utmost brim
Waiting to pass, he saw whereas did fwim
Along the shore, as swift as glance of eye,
A little gondelay, bedecked trim

With boughs and arbours woven cunningly,
That like a little forest seemed outwardly.

And therein face a Lady fresh and fair,

Making sweet folace to herself alone ;
Sometimes she sung, as loud as Lark in air,
Sometimes she laught, that nigh her breath was gones
Yet was there not with her else any one,
That might to her move cause of merriment:
Matter of mirth enough, though there were none

She could devise, and thousand ways invent
To feed her foolish humour and vain jolliment,


Which when far off Cymochles heard and saw,

He loudly called to such as were abord,
The little bark unto the shore to draw,
And him to ferry over that deep ford:
The merry mariner unto his word
Soon hearkned, and her painted boat straightway
Turn'd to the shore, where that same warlike Lord

She in receiv'd; but Atin by no way
She would admit, albe the Knight her much did


Eftsoons her shallow ship away did fide,

More swift than swallow sheres the liquid sky,
Withouten oar or Pilot it to guide,
Or winged canvas with the wind to fly;
Only she turn’d a pin, and by and by
It cut away upon the yielding wave,
Ne cared the her course for to apply:

For it was taught the way, which she would have, And both from rocks and fats itself could wisely fave

And all the way, the wanton Damsel found

New mirth, her passenger to entertain :
For she in pleasant purpose did abound,
And greatly joyed merry tales to fain,
Of which a store-house did with her remain,
Yet seemed, nothing well they her became;
For all her words she drown'd with laughing vain,
And wanting grace in uct'ring of the same;
That turned all her pleasance to a scoffing game.

And other whiles vain toys she would devise,

As her fantastick wit did most delight:
Sometimes her head the fondly would aguise
With gaudy girlonds, or fresh flowrets dight
About her neck, or rings of rushes plight ;
Sometimes to do him laugh, she would assay
To laugh at shaking of the leavës light,

Or to behold the water work, and play
About her little frigot, therein making way.


Her light behaviour, and loose dalliaunce

Gave wondrous great contentment to the Knight,
That of his way he had no sovenaunce,
Nor care of vow'd revenge, and cruel fight,
But to weak wench did yield his martial might.
So easie was to quench his flamed mind
With one sweet drop of sensual delight;

So easie is, t'appease the stormy wind
Of malice in the calm of pleasant woman-kind.

Diverse discourses in their way they spent,

Mongst which Cymocbles of her questioned,
Both what she was, and what that usage meant,
Which in her cot lhe daily practiced.
Vain man, said she, that wouldst be reckoned
A stranger in thy home, and ignorant
Of Pbedria (for so my name is read)

Of Pbædria chine own fellow servaunt;
For thou to serve Acrafia thyself dost vaunt.

In this wide inland sea, that hight by name
The Idle lake, my wandring

ship I row,
That knows her port, and thither sails by aim,
Ne care, ne fear I, how the wind do blow,
Or whether swift I wend, or whether Now:
Both Now and swift alike to serve my tourn,
Ne swelling Neptune, ne loud thundring Jove

Can change my chear, or make me ever mourn ,
My little boat can safely pass this perlous bourn.

Whiles thus she talked, and whiles thus she toy'd,

They were far past the passage which he fpake,
And come unto an Inand waste and void,
That floated in the midst of that great lake:
There her small gondelay her port did make,
And that gay pair issuing on the shore
Disburdned her. Their

way they forward cake
Into the land that lay them fair before,
Whose pleasance she bim shew'd, and plentiful great store,
VOL. 1.


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