16 Then Una thus; But she your sister deare,
The deare Charissa where is she become?

Or wants she health, or busie is elsewhere?
Ah no, said they, but forth she may not come;
For she of late is lightned of her wombe,

And hath encreast the world with one sonne more,
That her to see should be but troublesome.

Indeed (quoth she) that should be trouble sore; But thankt be God, and her encrease so evermore.

17 Then said the aged Caelia, Deare dame,

And you good sir, I wote that of youre toyle
And labours long, through which ye hither came,
Ye both forwearied be: therefore a whyle

I read you rest, and to your bowres recoyle.
Then called she a groome, that forth him led
Into a goodly lodge, and gan despoile

Of puissant armes, and laid in easie bed:
His name was meeke Obedience rightfully ared.

18 Now when their wearie limbes with kindly rest,
And bodies were refresht with due repast,
Faire Una gan Fidelia faire request,

To have her knight into her schoolehouse plaste,
That of her heavenly learning he might taste,
And heare the wisedom of her words divine.
She graunted, and that knight so much agraste
That she him taught celestiall discipline,

And opened his dull eyes, that light mote in them shine.

19 And that her sacred booke, with blood ywrit,

That none could read, except she did them teach,
She unto him disclosed every whit,

And heavenly documents thereout did preach,
That weaker wit of man could never reach;
Of God, of grace, of justice, of free will;
That wonder was to heare her goodly speach:
For she was able with her words to kill,

And raise againe to life the hart that she did thrill.

20 And, when she list poure out her larger spright,
She would commaund the hasty sunne to stay,
Or backward turne his course from heavens hight;
Sometimes great hostes of men she could dismay;
[Dry-shod to passe she parts the flouds in tway ;]
And eke huge mountaines from their native seat
She would commaund themselves to beare away,
And throw in raging sea with roaring threat.
Almightie God her gave such powre, and puissaunce great.

21 The faithfull knight now grew in little space,
By hearing her, and by her sisters lore,
To such perfection of all heavenly grace,
That wretched world he gan for to abhore,
And mortall life gan loath, as thing forlore,
Greevd with remembrance of his wicked wayes,
And prickt with anguish of his sinnes so sore,
That he desirde to end his wretched dayes:
So much the dart of sinfull guilt the soule dismayes.

22 But wise Speranza gave him comfort sweet,
And taught him how to take assured hold
Upon her silver anchor, as was meet;
Else had his sinnes so great and manifold
Made him forget all that Fidelia told.
In this distressed doubtfull agony,

When him his dearest Una did behold
Disdeining life, desiring leave to die,

She found her selfe assayld with great perplexity;

23 And came to Caelia to declare her smart;

Who well acquainted with that commune plight,
Which sinfull horror workes in wounded hart,
Her wisely comforted all that she might,
With goodly counsell and advisement right;
And streightway sent with carefull diligence,
To fetch a leach, the which had great insight
In that disease of grieved conscience,

And well could cure the same; his name was Patience.

24 Who, comming to that soule-diseased knight,
Could hardly him intreat to tell his grief:

Which knowne, and all that noyd his heavie spright
Well searcht, eftsoones he gan apply relief

Of salves and med'cines, which had passing prief;
And thereto added wordes of wondrous might:
By which to ease he him recured brief,

And much aswag'd the passion of his plight,
That he his paine endur'd, as seeming now more light.

25 But yet the cause and root of all his ill,

Inward corruption and infected sin,

Not purg'd nor heald, behind remained still,
And festring sore did rankle yet within,
Close creeping twixt the marrow and the skin.
Which to extirpe, he laid him privily

Downe in a darkesome lowly place far in,
Whereas he meant his corrosives to apply,
And with streight diet tame his stubborne malady.

26 In ashes and sackcloth he did array

His daintie corse, proud humors to abate;

And dieted with fasting every day,

The swelling of his wounds to mitigate;
And made him pray both earely and eke late:
And ever as superfluous flesh did rot
Amendment readie still at hand did wayt
To pluck it out with pincers firie whot,

That soone in him was left no one corrupted jot.

27 And bitter Penance, with an yron whip,
Was wont him once to disple every day:
And sharpe Remorse his hart did prick and nip,
That drops of blood thence like a well did play;
And sad Repentance used to embay

His bodie in salt water smarting sore,
The filthy blots of sin to wash away.

So in short space they did to health restore

The man that would not live, but erst lay at deathes dore.

28 In which his torment often was so great,
That like a lyon he would cry and rore,
And rend his flesh, and his own synewes eat.
His owne deare Una hearing evermore
His ruefull shriekes and gronings, often tore
Her guiltlesse garments, and her golden heare,
For pitty of his paine and anguish sore;

Yet all with patience wisely she did beare;
For well she wist his crime could else be never cleare.

29 Whom thus recover'd by wise Patience

And trew Repentaunce they to Una brought:
Who joyous of his cured conscience,

Him dearely kist, and fairely eke besought,
Himselfe to chearish, and consuming thought
To put away out of his carefull brest.

By this Charissa, late in child-bed brought,
Was woxen strong, and left her fruitfull nest;
To her faire Una brought this unacquainted guest.

30 She was a woman in her freshest age,

Of wondrous beauty, and of bounty rare,
With goodly grace and comely personage,
That was on earth not easie to compare ;
Full of great love, but Cupids wanton snare
As hell she hated, chaste in worke and will;
Her necke and breasts were ever open bare,

That ay thereof her babes might sucke their fill;
The rest was all in yellow robes arayed still.

31 A multitude of babes about her hong,

Playing their sports, that joyd her to behold,
Whom still she fed, whiles they were weake and young,
But thrust them forth still as they wexed old:
And on her head she wore a tyre of gold,

Adornd with gemmes and owches wondrous faire,
Whose passing price uneath was to be told:
And by her side there sate a gentle paire

Of turtle doves, she sitting in an yvory chaire.

32 The knight and Una entring faire her greet,
And bid her joy of that her happy brood;
Who them requites with court'sies seeming meet,
And entertaines with friendly chearefull mood.
Then Una her besought, to be so good

As in her vertuous rules to schoole her knight,
Now after all his torment well withstood

In that sad house of Penaunce, where his spright
Had past the paines of hell, and long enduring night.

33 She was right joyous of her just request;
And taking by the hand that Faeries sonne,
Gan him instruct in everie good behest,

Of love, and righteousnesse, and well to donne,
And wrath, and hatred warely to shonne,
That drew on men Gods hatred, and his wrath,
And many soules in dolours had fordonne:

In which when him she well instructed hath,
From thence to heaven she teacheth him the ready path.

34 Wherein his weaker wandring steps to guide,
An auncient matrone she to her does call,
Whose sober lookes her wisedome well descride:
Her name was Mercy, well knowne over all
To be both gratious, and eke liberall:

To whom the carefull charge of him she gave,

To leade aright, that he should never fall

In all his wayes through this wide worldes wave; That Mercy in the end his righteous soule might save.

35 The godly matrone by the hand him beares
Forth from her presence, by a narrow way,
Scattred with bushy thornes and ragged breares,
Which still before him she remov'd away,
That nothing might his ready passage stay:
And ever when his feet encombred were,
Or gan to shrinke, or from the right to stray,
She held him fast, and firmely did upbeare;

As carefull nourse her child from falling oft does reare.