36 Eftsoones unto an holy hospitall,

That was fore by the way, she did him bring;
In which seven bead-men, that had vowed all
Their life to service of high heavens king,
Did spend their dayes in doing godly thing:
Their gates to all were open evermore,
That by the wearie way were traveiling;

And one sate wayting ever them before,
To call in commers by, that needy were and pore.

37 The first of them, that eldest was, and best,
Of all the house had charge and governement,
As guardian and steward of the rest:
His office was to give entertainement
And lodging unto all that came and went;
Not unto such, as could him feast againe,
And double quite for that he on them spent,
But such, as want of harbour did constraine :
Those for Gods sake his dewty was to entertaine.

38 The second was as almner of the place,
His office was the hungry for to feed,

And thristy give to drinke, a worke of grace:
He feard not once himselfe to be in need,

Ne car'd to hoord for those whom he did breede:
The grace of God he layd up still in store,
Which as a stocke he left unto his seede;

He had enough, what need him care for more?
And had he lesse, yet some he would give to the pore.

39 The third had of their wardrobe custody,

In which were not rich tyres, nor garments gay,
The plumes of pride, and winges of vanity,
But clothes meet to keep keene cold away,
And naked nature seemely to aray;

With which bare wretched wights he dayly clad,
The images of God in earthly clay;

And if that no spare clothes to give he had,
His owne coate he would cut, and it distribute glad.

40 The fourth appointed by his office was

Poore prisoners to relieve with gratious ayd,
And captives to redeeme with price of bras
From Turkes and Sarazins, which them had stayd;
And though they faulty were, yet well he wayd,
That God to us forgiveth every howre

Much more then that, why they in bands were layd;
And he that harrowd hell with heavie stowre,

The faulty soules from thence brought to his heavenly bowre.

41 The fift had charge sick persons to attend,

And comfort those, in point of death which lay;
For them most needeth comfort in the end,
When sin, and hell, and death do most dismay
The feeble soule departing hence away,
All is but lost, that living we bestow,
If not well ended at our dying day.

O man have mind of that last bitter throw;
For as the tree does fall, so lyes it ever low.

42 The sixt had charge of them now being dead, In seemely sort their corses to engrave,

And deck with dainty flowres their bridall bed,
That to their heavenly spouse both sweet and brave
They might appeare, when he their soules shall save.
The wondrous workmanship of Gods owne mould,
Whose face he made all beastes to feare, and gave
All in his hand, even dead we honour should.
Ah, dearest God me graunt, I dead be not defould.

43 The seventh, now after death and buriall done,
Had charge the tender orphans of the dead
And widowes ayd, least they should be undone :
In face of judgement he their right would plead,
Ne ought the powre of mighty men did dread
In their defence, nor would for gold or fee
Be wonne their rightfull causes downe to tread
And, when they stood in most necessitee,

He did supply their want, and gave them ever free.

44 There when the elfin knight arrived was,

The first and chiefest of the seven, whose care
Was guests to welcome, towardes him did pas:
Where seeing Mercie, that his steps upbare
And alwayes led, to her with reverence rare
He humbly louted in meeke lowlinesse,
And seemely welcome for her did prepare:
For of their order she was patronesse,
Albe Charissa were their chiefest founderesse.

45 There she awhile him stayes, him selfe to rest,
That to the rest more able he might bee:
During which time, in every good behest,
And godly worke of almes and charitee,
She him instructed with great industree.
Shortly therein so perfect he became,
That from the first unto the last degree,
His mortall life he learned had to frame
In holy righteousnesse, without rebuke or blame.

46 Thence forward by that painfull way they pas
Forth to an hill, that was both steepe and hy;
On top whereof a sacred chappell was,
And eke a little hermitage thereby,
Wherein an aged holy man did lie,
That day and night said his devotion,
Ne other worldly busines did apply;
His name was heavenly Contemplation;
Of God and goodnesse was his meditation.

47 Great grace that old man to him given had;
For God he often saw from heavens hight:
All were his earthly eyen both blunt and bad,
And through great age had lost their kindly sight,
Yet wondrous quick and persant was his spright,
As eagles eye, that can behold the sunne:

That hill they scale with all their powre and might,
That his fraile thighes nigh weary and fordonne
Gan faile, but by her helpe the top at last he wonne.

48 There they do finde that godly aged sire,
With snowy lockes adowne his shoulders shed;
As hoary frost with spangles doth attire
The mossy braunches of an oke halfe ded.
Each bone might through his body well be red,
And every sinew seene through his long fast:
For nought he car'd his carcas long unfed;
His mind was full of spirituall repast,

And pyn'd his flesh, to keepe his body low and chast.

49 Who when these two approching he aspide,
At their first presence grew agrieved sore,
That forst him lay his heavenly thoughts aside;
And had he not that dame respected more,
Whom highly he did reverence and adore,
He would not once have moved for the knight.
They him saluted, standing far afore;

Who well them greeting, humbly did requight,

And asked, to what end they clomb that tedious height.

50 What end (quoth she) should cause us take such paine, But that same end, which every living wight

Should make his marke, high heaven to attaine?
Is not from hence the way, that leadeth right
To that most glorious house, that glistreth bright
With burning starres and everliving fire,
Whereof the keyes are to thy hand behight
By wise Fidelia? She doth thee require,
To shew it to this knight, according his desire.

51 Thrise happy man, said then the father grave,
Whose staggering steps thy steady hand doth lead,
And shewes the way his sinfull soule to save.
Who better can the way to heaven aread,
Then thou thy selfe, that was both borne and bred
In heavenly throne, where thousand angels shine?
Thou doest the praiers of the righteous sead
Present before the majesty divine,

And his avenging wrath to clemency incline.

52 Yet, since thou bidst, thy pleasure shalbe donne.
Then come thou man of earth, and see the way,
That never yet was seene of Faeries sonne,
That never leads the traveiler astray,

But after labors long, and sad delay,
Brings them to joyous rest and endlesse blis.
But first thou must a season fast and pray,

Till from her bands the spright assoiled is,
And have her strength recur'd from fraile infirmitis.

53 That done, he leads him to the highest mount;
Such one, as that same mighty man of God,
That blood-red billowes like a walled front
On either side disparted with his rod,
Till that his army dry-foot through them yod,
Dwelt forty dayes upon; where, writ in stone
With bloody letters by the hand of God,

The bitter doome of death and balefull mone
He did receive, whiles flashing fire about him shone.

54 Or like that sacred hill, whose head full hie, Adornd with fruitfull olives all arownd,

Is, as it were for endlesse memory

Of that deare Lord who oft thereon was fownd,
For ever with a flowring girlond crownd:

Or like that pleasaunt mount, that is for ay
Through famous poets verse each where renownd,

On which the thrise three learned ladies play

Their heavenly notes, and make full many a lovely lay.

55 From thence, far off he unto him did shew

A litle path, that was both steepe and long,
Which to a goodly citie led his vew;

Whose wals and towres were builded high and strong
Of perle and precious stone, that earthly tong

Cannot describe, nor wit of man can tell;

Too high a ditty for my simple song:
The citie of the great king hight it well,

Wherein eternall peace and happinesse doth dwell.