In all that rowme was nothing to be seene
But huge great yron chests, and coffers strong,
All bard with double bends, that none could weene
Them to enforce by violence or wrong;
On every side they placed were along.
But all the grownd with seuls was scattered
And dead mens bones, which round about were flong;
Whose lives, it seemed, whilome there were shed,
And their vile carcases now left unburied.

They forward passe; ne Guyon yet spoke word,
Till that they came unto an yron dore,
Which to them opened of his owne accord,
And shewd of richesse such exceeding store,
As eie of man did never see before,
Ne ever could within one place be fownd,
Though all the wealth, which is or was of yore,
Could gatherd be through all the world arownd,
And that above were added to that under grownd.

The charge thereof unto a covetous spright
Commaunded was, who thereby did attend,
And warily awaited day and night,
From other covetous feends it to defend,
Who it to rob and ransacke did intend.
Then Mammon, turning to that warriour, said;
"Loe, here the worldës blis! loe, here the end,
To which al men do ayme, rich to be made!
Such grace now to be happy is before thee laid."

"Certes," sayd he, "I n'ill thine offred grace,
Ne to be made so happy doe intend!
Another blis before mine eyes I place,
Another happines, another end.

To them, that list, these base regardes I lend:
But I in armes, and in atchievements brave,
Do rather choose my flitting houres to spend,
And to be lord of those that riches have,

Then them to have my selfe, and be their servile sclave."

Thereat the feend his gnashing teeth did grate,
And griev'd, so long to lacke his greedie pray;
For well he weened that so glorious bayte
Would tempt his guest to take thereof assay:
Had he so doen, he had him snatcht away
More light than culver in the faulcons fist:
Eternall God thee save from such decay!
But, whenas Mammon saw his purpose mist,
Him to entrap unwares another way he wist.

Thence, forward he him ledd and shortly brought
Unto another rowme, whose dore forthright
To him did open as it had beene taught:
Therein an hundred raunges weren pight,
And hundred fouruaces all burning bright;
By every fournace many feends did byde,
Deformed creatures, horrible in sight;
And every feend his busie paines applyde
To melt the golden metall, ready to be tryde.

One with great bellowes gathered filling ayre,
And with forst wind the fewell did inflame;
Another did the dying bronds repayre
With yron tongs, and sprinckled ofte the same
With liquid waves, fiers Vulcans rage to tame,
Who, maystring them, renewd his former heat:
Some scumd the drosse that from the metall came;
Some stird the molten owre with ladles great:
And every one did swincke, and every one did sweat,

But, when an earthly wight they present saw
Glistring in armes and battailous array,
From their whot work they did themselves withdraw
To wonder at the sight; for, till that day,
They never creature saw that cam that way:
Their staring eyes sparckling with fervent fyre
And ugly shapes did nigh the man dismay,
That, were it not for shame, he would retyre;
Till that him thus bespake their soveraine lord and
syre:

"Behold, thou Faeries sonne, with mortall eye,
That living eye before did never see!

The thing, that thou didst crave so earnestly,
To weet whence all the wealth late shewd by mee
Proceeded, lo! now is reveald to thee.
Here is the fountaine of the worldës good!
Now therefore, if thou wilt enriched bee,
Avise thee well, and chaunge thy wilfull mood;
Least thou perhaps hereafter wish, and be withstood."
"Suffise it then, thou money-god," quoth hee,
"That all thine ydle offers I refuse.

All that I need I have; what needeth mee
To covet more then I have cause to use?
With such vaine shewes thy worldlinges vyle abuse;
But give me leave to follow mine emprise."
Mammon was much displeasd, yet no'te he chuse
But beare the rigour of his bold mesprise;
And thence him forward ledd, him further to entise.
He brought him, through a darksom narrow strayt,
To a broad gate all built of beaten gold:
The gate was open; but therein did wayt
A sturdie villein, stryding stiffe and bold,
As if the highest God defy he would:
In his right hand an yron club he held,
But he himselfe was all of golden mould,
Yet had both life and sence, and well could weld
That cursed weapon, when his cruell foes he queld.

Disdayne he called was, and did disdayne
To be so cald, and who so did him call:
Sterne was his looke, and full of stomacke vayne;
His portaunce terrible, and stature tall,
Far passing th' hight of men terrestriall;
Like an huge gyant of the Titans race;
That made him scorne all creatures great and small,
And with his pride all others powre deface:
More fitt emongst black fiendes then men to have
his place.

Soone as those glitterand armes he did espye,
That with their brightnesse made that darknes light,
His harmefull club he gan to hurtle hye,
And threaten batteill to the Faery knight;
Who likewise gan himselfe to batteill dight,
Till Mammon did his hasty hand withhold,
And counseld him abstaine from perilous fight;
For nothing might abash the villein bold,
Ne mortall steele emperce his miscreated mould.
So having him with reason pacifyde,

And that fiers carle commaunding to forbeare,
He brought him in. The rowme was large and wyde,
As it some gyeld or solemne temple weare;
Many great golden pillours did upbeare
The massy roofe, and riches huge sustayne;
And every pillour decked was full deare
With crownes, and diademes, and titles vaine,
Which mortall princes wore whiles they on Earth
did rayne.

A route of people there assembled were,
Of every sort and nation under skye,
Which with great uprore preaced to draw nere
To th' upper part, where was advaunced hye
A stately siege of soveraine maiestye;
And thereon satt a woman gorgeous gay,
And richly cladd in robes of royaltye,
That never earthly prince in such aray

His glory did enhaunce, and pompous pryde display.
Her face right wondrous faire did seeme to bee,
That her broad beauties beam great brightnes threw
Through the dim shade, that all men might it see;
Yet was not that same her owne native hew,
But wrought by art and counterfetted shew,
Thereby more lovers unto her to call;
Nath'lesse most hevenly faire in deed and vew
She by creation was, till she did fall; [withall.
Thenceforth she sought for helps to cloke her crime

There, as in glistring glory she did sitt,
She held a great gold chaine ylincked wel,
Whose upper end to highest Heven was knitt,
And lower part did reach to lowest Hell;
And all that preace did rownd about her swell
To catchen hold of that long chaine, thereby
To climbe aloft, and others to excell:
That was Ambition, rash desire to sty,
And every linck thereof a step of dignity.

Some thought to raise themselves to high degree By riches and unrighteous reward;

Some by close shoulding; some by flatteree; Others through friendes; others for base regard; And all, by wrong waies, for themselves prepard : Those, that were up themselves, kept others low; Those, that were low themselves, held others hard, Ne suffred them to ryse or greater grow;

- But every one did strive his fellow downe to throw.

Which whenas Guyon saw, he gan inquire,
What meant that preace about that ladies throne,
And what she was that did so high aspyre?
Him Mammon answered; "That goodly one,
Whom all that folke with such contention
Doe flock about, my deare, my daughter is:
Honour and dignitie from her aloué
Derived are, and all this worldës blis,

[mis:

For which ye men doe strive; few gett, but many

"And fayre Philotimé she rightly hight,
The fairest wight that wonneth under skie,
But that this darksom neather world her light
Doth dim with horror and deformity,
Worth e of Heven and hye felicitie,
From whence the gods have her for envy thrust:
But, sith thou hast found favour in mine eye,
Thy spouse I will her make, if that thou lust; [iust."
That she may thee advance for works and merits

"Gramercy, Mammon," said the gentle knight, "For so great grace and offred bigh estate; But I, that am fraile flesh and earthly wight, Unworthy match for such immortall mate Myselfe well wote, and mine unequall fate: And were I not, yet is my tronth yplight, And love avowd to other lady late, That to remove the same I have no might: ' To chaunge love causelesse is reproch to warlike knight."

Mammon emmoved was with inward wrath;
Yet, forcing it to fayne, him forth thence ledd,
Through griesly shadowes by a beaten path,
Into a gardin goodly garnished

Fredd
With hearbs and fruits, whose kinds mote not be
Not such as earth out of her fruitfull woomb
Throwes forth to men, sweet and well savored,
But direfull deadly black, both leafe and bloom,
Fitt to adorne the dead and deck the drery toombe.

There mournfull cypresse grew in greatest store;
And trees of bitter gall; and heben sad;
Dead sleeping poppy; and black hellebore;
Cold coloquintida; and tetra mad;
Mortall samnitis; and cicuta bad,
With which th' uniust Atheniens made to dy
Wise Socrates, who, thereof quaffing glad,
Pourd out his life and last philosophy
To the fayre Critias, his dearest belamy!

The Gardin of Proserpina this hight:
And in the midst thereof a silver seat,
With a thick arber goodly over-dight,
In which she often usd from open heat
Herselfe to shroud, and pleasures to entreat:
Next thereunto did grow a goodly tree,
With braunches broad dispredd and body great,
Clothed with leaves, that none the wood mote see,
And loaden all with fruit as thick as it might bee.

Their fruit were golden apples glistring bright,
That goodly was their glory to behold;
On Earth like never grew, ne living wight
Like ever saw, but they from hence were sold;
For those, which Hercules with conquest bold
Got from great Atlas daughters, hence began,
And planted there did bring forth fruit of gold;
And those, with which th' Euboean young man wan
Swift Atalanta, when through craft he her out ran.

Here also sprong that goodly golden fruit,
With which Acontius got his lover trew,
Whom he had long time sought with fruitlesse suit:
Here eke that famous golden apple grew,
The which emongst the gods false Ate threw ;
For which th' Idæan ladies disagreed,
Till partiall Paris dempt in Venus dew,
And had of her fayre Helen for his meed,
That many noble Greekes and Troians made to bleed.

The warlike Elfe much wondred at this tree,
So fayre and great, that shadowed all the ground;
And his broad braunches, laden with rich fee,
Did stretch themselves without the utmost bound
Of this great gardin, compast with a mound:
Which over-hanging, they themselves did steepe
In a blacke flood, which flow'd about it round;
That is the river of Cocytus deepe,

In which full many soules do endlesse wayle and

weepe.

Which to behold be clomb up to the bancke;
And, looking downe, saw many damned wightes
In those sad waves, which direfull deadly stancke,
Plonged continually of cruell sprightes,
That with their piteous cryes, and yelling shrightes,
They made the further shore resounden wide:
Emongst the rest of those same ruefu!! sightes,
One cursed creature he by chaunce espide,
That drenched lay full deepe under the garden side

Deepe was be drenched to the upmost chin,
Yet gaped still as coveting to drinke
Of the cold liquour which he waded in ;
And, stretching forth his hand, did often thinke
To reach the fruit which grew upon the brincke;
But both the fruit from hand, and flood from mouth,
Did fly abacke, and made bim vamely swincke;
The whiles he sterv'd with hunger, and with drouth
He daily dyde, yet never througly dyen couth.

The knight, him seeing labour so in vaine,
Askt who he was, and what he meant thereby?
Who, groning deepe, thus answerd him againe;
"Most cursed of all creatures under skye,
Lo Tantalus, I here tormented lye!

Of whom high love wont whylome feasted bee
Lo, here I now for want of food doe dye!
But, if that thou be such as I thee see,

;

Of grace I pray thee give to eat and drinke to mee!"

"Nay, nay, thou greedy Tantalus," quoth he,
"Abide the fortune of thy present fate;
And, unto all that live in high degree,
Ensample be of mind intemperate,

To teach them how to use their present state."
Then gan the cursed wretch alowd to cry,
Accusing highest love and gods ingrate;
And eke b.aspheming Heaven bitterly,
As author of uniustice, there to let him dye.

He lookt a litle further, and espyde
Another wretch, whose carcas deepe was drent
Within the river which the same did hyde:
But both his handes, most filthy feculent,
Above the water were on high extent,
And fayud to wash themselves incessantly,
Yet nothing cleaner were for such intent,
But rather fowler seemed to the eye;
So lost his labour vaine and ydle industry.

The knight, him calling, asked who he was?
Who, lifting up his head, him answerd thus;
"I Pilate am, the fastest iudge, alas!
And most uniast; that, by unrighteous
And wicked doome, to lewes despiteous
Delivered up the Lord of Life to dye,
And did acquite a murdrer felonous;
The whiles my handes I washt in purity,

The whiles my soule was soyld with fowle iniquity."

Infinite moe tormented in like paine
He there beheld, too long here to be told:
Ne Mammon would there let him long remayne,
For terreur of the tortures manifold,
In which the damned soules he did behold,
Bat roughly him bespake: "Thou fearefull foole,
Why takest not of that same fruite of gold?
Ne sittest downe on that same silver stoole,
To rest thy weary person in the shadow coole?"

All which he did to do him deadly fall
In frayle intemperaunce through sinfull bayt;
To which if he inclyned had at all,

That dreadful feend, which did behinde him wayt,
Would him have rent in thousand peeces strayt:
But he was wary wise in all his way,
And well perceived his deceiptfull sle ght,
Ne suffred lust his safety to betray:

So goodly did beguile the guyler of his pray.

Beside his head there satt a faire young man,
Of wondrous beauty and of freshest yeares,
Whose tender bud to blossome new began,
And florish faire above his equall peares :
His snowy front, curled with golden heares,
Like Phoebus face adornd with sunny rayes,
Divinely shone; and two sharpe winged sheares,
Decked with diverse plumes, like painted jayes,
Were fixed at his backe to cut his ayery wayes.

Like as Cupido on Idæan hill,

When having 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 his goodly sisters, Graces three;
The goddesse, pleased with his wanton play,
Suffers herselfe through sleepe beguild to bee,
The whiles the other ladies mind theyr mery glee.

Whom when the palmer saw, abasht he was
Through fear and wonder, that he nought could say,
Till him the childe bespoke; "Long lackt, alas,
Hath bene thy faithfull aide in hard assay !
Whiles deadly fitt thy pupill doth dismay,
Behold this heavy sight, thou reverend 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 respire.

"The charge, which God doth unto me arrett,
Of his deare safety, I to thee commend;
Yet will I not forgoe, ne yet forgett
The care thereof myselfe unto the end,
But evermore him succour, and defend

Against his foe and mine: watch thou, I pray;
For evill is at hand him to offend."

So having 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 afraid, and standing still a space
Gaz'd after him, as fowle escapt by flight:
At last, him turning to his charge behight,
With trembling hand his troubled pulse gan try;
Where finding life not yet dislodged quight,
He much reioyst, and courd it tenderly,
As chicken newly hatcht, from dreaded destiny.

At last he spide where towards him did pace
Two Paynim knights al armd as bright as skie,
And them beside an aged sire did trace,
And far before a light-foote page did flie
That breathed strife and troublous enmitie.
Those were the two sonnes of Acrates old,
Who, meeting earst with Archimago slie
Foreby that Idle strond, of him were told
That he, which earst them combatted, was Guyon

[bold.

Which to avenge on him they dearly vowd,
Whereever that on ground they mote him find:
False Archimage provokt their corage prowd,
And stryful Atin in their stubborne mind
Coles of contention and whot vengeaunce tind.
Now bene they come whereas the palmer sate,
Keeping that slombred corse to him assind:
Well knew they both his person, sith of late
With him in bloody armes they rashly did debate.

Whom when Pyrochles saw, inflam'd with rage
That sire he fowl bespake; "Thou dotard vile,
That with thy brutenesse shendst thy comely age,
Abandon soone, I read, the caytive spoile
Of that same outcast carcas, that erewhile
Made itselfe famous through false trechery,
And crownd his coward crest with knightly stile;
Loe! where he now inglorious doth lye,
To proove he lived il, that did thus fowly dye."
To whom the palmer fearelesse 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 living handes immortalizd his name.
Vile is the vengeaunce on the ashes cold;
And envy base to barke at sleeping fame:
Was never wight that treason of him told:
Yourselfe his prowesse prov'd, and found him fiers
and bold."

Then sayd Cymochles; "Palmer, thou doest dote,
Ne canst of prowesse ne of knighthood deeme,
Save as thou seest or hearst: but well I wote,
That of his puissaunce tryall made extreeme :
Yet gold all is not that doth golden seeme;
Neal good knights that shake well speare and shield:
The worth of all men by their end esteeme;
And then dew praise or dew reproch them yield:
Bad therefore I him deeme that thus lies dead on
field."

"Good or bad," gan his brother fiers reply,
"What do I recke, sith that he dide entire ?
Or what doth his bad death now satisfy

The greedy hunger of revenging yre,
Sith wrathfull hand wrought not her owne desire?
Yet, since no way is lefte to wreake my spight,
I will him reave of armes, the victors hire,
And of that shield, more worthy of good knight;
For why should a dead dog be deckt in armour
bright?"

"Fayr sir," said then the palmer suppliaunt,
"For knighthoods love doe not so fowle a deed,
Ne blame your honor with so shamefull vaunt
Of vile revenge: to spoile the dead of weed
Is sacrilege, and doth all sinnes exceed :
But leave these relicks of his living might
To decke his herce, and trap his tomb-blacke steed."
"What herce or steed," said he, "should he have

dight,

But be entombed in the raven or the kight?"

With that, rude hand upon his shield he laid,
And th' other brother gan his helme unlace;
Both fiercely bent to have 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
And coverd shield: well kend him so far space
When under him he saw his Lybian steed to praunce;
Th' enchaunter by his armes and amenaunce,

And to those brethren sayd; "Rise, rise bylive,
And unto batteil doe yourselves addresse;
For yonder comes the prowest knight alive,
Prince Arthur, flowre of grace and nobilesse,
That hath to Paynim knights wrought gret distresse,
And thousand Sar'zins fowly donne to dye."
That word so deepe did in their harts impresse,
That both eftsoones upstarted furiously,
And gan themselves prepare to batteill greedily.