It was a chofen plot of fertile land,
Emongft wide waves fet like a little neft,
As if it had by natures cunning hand,
Been choicely picked out from all the reft,
And laid forth for enfample of the best:
No dainty flowre or herb that grows on ground,
No arboret with painted bloffoms dreft,
And smelling fweet, but there it might be found To bud out fair, and her fweet fmells throw all around XIII.
No tree, whofe branches did not bravely fpring;
No branch, whereon a fine bird did not fit:
No bird, but did her fhrill notes fweetly fing;
No fong but did contain a lovely dit:
Trees, branches, birds, and fongs were framed fit
For to allure frail men to careless eafe.
Careless the man foon wox, and his weak wit
Was overcome of thing, that did him please;
So pleafed, did his wrathful purpose fair appeale.
Thus when he had his eyes and fenfes fed...
With falfe delights, and fill'd with pleasures vain,
Into, a fhady dale fhe foft him. led,
And laid him down upon a graffy plain;
And her fweet felf, without dread or difdain
She fet befide, laying his head difarm'd
In her loose lap, it foftly to fuftain,
Where foon he flumbred, fearing not be harm'd, The whiles with a love lay fhe thus him fweetly charm'd, XV.
Behold O man, that toylfome pains doft take,
The flowres, the fields, and all that pleasant grows, How they themfelves do thine enfample make, Whiles nothing envious nature them forth throws Out of her fruitful lap, how no man knows, They fpring, they bud, they bloffom fresh and fair, And deck the world with their rich pompous fhows; Yet no man, for them taketh pains or care, Yet no man to them can his careful pains compare.
XVI.
The lilly, Lady of the flowring field,
The flowre-delice, her lovely paramour,
Bid thee to them thy fruitless labours yield,
And foon leave off this toylfome weary ftoure;'
Lo, lo, how brave fhe decks her bounteous bowre,'
With filken curtains, and gold coverlets,
Therein to fhrowd her fumptuous Belamoure,
Yet neither spins, nor cards, ne cares, nor frets,
But to her mother nature all her care the lets.
Why then doft thou, O man, that of them all
Art Lord, and eke of nature foveraine,
Wilfully make thy felf a wretched thrall,
And waste thy joyous hours in needless pain,
Seeking for danger and adventures vain?
What boots it all to have, and nothing use?
Who fhall him rew, that fwimming in the main,
Will die for thirft, and water doth refuse?
Refuse fuch fruitlefs toyl, and prefent pleafures chufe.
XVIII.
By this, fhe had him lulled fast asleep,
That of no worldly thing he care did take;
Then fhe with liquors ftrong his eyes did steep,
That nothing fhould him haftily awake:
So fhe him left, and did herself betake
Unto her boat again, with which the cleft
The flothful waves of that great griefly lake;
Soon fhe that Island far behind her left,
And now is come to that same place, where first she west.
XIX.
By this time was the worthy Guyon brought
Unto the other fide of that wide ftrond,
Where she was rowing, and for paffage fought:
Him needed not long call, fhe foon to hond
Her ferry brought, where him fhe byding fond,
With his fad guide; himself she took aboard,
But the Black Palmer fuffred still to ftond,
Ne would for price, or prayers once afford,
To ferry that old man over that perlous fo'rd.
XX.
Guyon was loth to leave his guide behind,
Yet being entred might not back retire;
For the flit bark, obeying to her mind,
Forth launched quickly, as fhe did desire,
Ne gave him leave to bid that aged Sire
Adieu, but nimbly ran her wonted courfe
Through the dull billows thick as troubled mire,
Whom neither wind out of their feat could force,
Nor timely tides did drive out of their fluggish fource.
XXI.
And by the way, as was her wonted guise,
Her merry fit fhe freshly 'gan to rear,
And did of joy and jollity devife,
Her felf to cherish, and her guest to chear:
The Knight was courteous, and did not forbear
Her honeft mirth and pleafance to partake;
But when he faw her toy, and gibe, and gear,
And pass the bounds of modeft merimake,
Her dalliance he defpis'd, and follies did forfake.
XXII.
Yet fhe ftill followed her former ftile,
And faid and did all that mote him delight,
Till they arrived in that pleasant Ile,
Where fleeping late fhe left her other Knight.
But whenas Guyon of that land had fight,
He wist himself amifs, and angry faid;
Ah Dame, perdy ye have not doen me right,
Thus to mislead me, whiles I you obeyd:
Me little needed from my right way to have ftrayd.
XXIII.
Fair Sir, quoth fhe, be not difpleas'd at all;
Who fares on fea, may not commaund his way,
Ne wind and weather at his pleasure call:
The fea is wide, and eafie for to ftray;
The wind unftable, and doth never stay.
But here awhile ye may in fafety rest,
Till feason serve new paffage to affay;
Better fafe port than be in feas diftreft.
Therewith the laught, and did her earnest end in jeft..
But he half difcontent, mote natheless
Himself appease, and iffued forth on fhore:
The joys whereof and happy fruitfulness,
Such as he faw fhe 'gan him lay before,
And all though pleasant, yet fhe made much more:
The fields did laugh, the flowres did freshly spring,
The trees did bud, and early bloffoms bore,
And all the quire of birds did fweetly fing.
And told that gardens pleasures in their caroling.
And the more sweet than any bird on bough,
Would oftentimes emongst them bare a part,
And strive to pafs (as fhe could well enough)
Their native mufick by her skilful art:
So did the all, that might his constant heart
Withdraw from thought of warlike enterprise,
And drown in diffolute delights apart,
Where noyfe of arms, or view of martial guife,
Might not revive defire of Knightly exercife.
XXVI.
But he was wife, and wary of her will,
And ever held his hand upon his heart:
Yet would not feem fo rude, and thewed ill,
As to defpife fo courteous feeming part,
That gentle Lady did to him impart;
But fairly tempring, fond defire fubdewd,
And ever her defired to depart.
She lift not hear, but her difports purfewd,
And ever bade him ftay, till time the tide renewd.
XXVII.
And now by this, Cymockles hour was spent,
That he awoke out of his idle dream,
And fhaking off his drowfie dreriment,
.Gan him avife, how ill did him befeem,
In flothful fleep his molten heart to fteem,
And quench the brond of his conceived ire.
Tho up he started, ftird with fhame extreem,
Ne stayed for his Damfel to inquire,
But marched to the ftrond, there paffage to require.
'And in the way, he with Sir Guyon met,
Accompany'd with Phadria the fair:
Eftfoons he 'gan to rage, and inly fret.
Crying, let be that Lady Debonaire,
Thou recreant Knight, and foon thy felf prepare
To battle, if thou mean her love to gain:
Lo, lo already, how the fowls in air
Do flock, awaiting shortly to obtain
Thy carcass for their prey, the guerdon of thy pain.
And therewithall he fiercely at him flew,
And with importune outrage him affayld;
Who foon prepar'd to field, his fword forth drew,
And him with equal valour countervayld:
Their mighty ftroaks their harberjeons difmayld,
And naked made each others manly spalls;
The mortal steel difpiteously entayld
Deep in their flesh, quite through the iron walls, That a large purple stream adown their giambeux falls. XXX.
Cymochles, that had never met before
So puiffant foe, with envious defpight
His proud prefumed force increased more,
Difdeigning to be held fo long in fight;
Sir Guyon grudging not fo much his might,
As thofe unknightly raylings which he spoke,
With wrathful fire his courage kindled bright,
Thereof devifing fhortly to be wroke,
And doubling all his powres, redoubled every stroke. 'XXXI.
Both of them high attonce their hands enhaunft,
And both attonce their huge blows down did fway;
Cymochles fword on Guyons shield yglaunct,
And thereof nigh one quarter fhear'd away.;
But Guyons angry blade fo fierce did play
On th'others helmet, which as Titan fhone,
That quite it clove his plumed creft in tway,
And bared all his head unto the bone;
Wherewith aftonifht, ftill he stood as fenfelefs ftone.
|