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VII.

Thereat the scarcrów wexed wondrous proud,
Through fortune of his firft adventure fair,
And with big thundring voyce revil'd him loud;
Vile caitive, vaffal of dread and despair,
Unworthy of the common breathed air,
Why liveft thou, dead dog, a longer day,
And doft not unto death thy felf prepare?
Die, or thy felf my captive yield for ay;
Great favour I thee grant, for anfwer thus to ftay.
VIII.

Hold, O dear Lord, hold your dead-doing hand,
Then loud he cride, I am your humble thrall.
Ah wretch (quoth he) thy destinies withstand
My wrathful will, and do for mercy call.
I give thee life: therefore proftrated fall,
And kiss my stirrup; that, thy homage be.
The miser threw himself as an offall,
Straight at his foot in bafe humilitee,
And cleeped him his liege, to hold of him in fee.
IX.

So happy peace they made and fair accord:
Eftfoons this liege-man 'gan to wex more bold,
And when he felt the folly of his Lord,
In his own kind he 'gan himself unfold:
For he was wylie witted, and grown old
In cunning fleights and practick knavery.
From that day forth he caft for to uphold
His idle humour with fine flattery,

And blow the bellows to his fwelling vanity.
X.

Trompart, fit man for Braggadochio,

To ferve at court in view of vaunting eye.
Vain-glorious man, when fluttring, wind does blow
In his light wings, is lifted up to sky :
The fcorn of Knighthood and true chevalry,
To think without defert of gentle deed,
And noble worth, to be advaunced high;

Such praife is fhame; but honour, vertues meed,
Doth bear the fairest flowre in honourable feed.

XI.

So forth they país (a well conforted pair)
Till at the length with Archimage they meet
Who feeing one that fhone in armour fair,
On goodly courfer thundring with his feet,
Eftfoons fuppofed him a perfon meet,
Of his revenge to make the inftrument:
For fince the Redcrofs Knight he erst did weet,
To been with Guyon knit in one confent,
The ill which earft to him, he now to Guyon meant.
XII.

And coming close to Trompart, 'gan inquere
Of him, what mighty warriour that mote be,
That rode in golden fell with fingle spear,
But wanted fword to wreak his enmitee.
He is a great adventurer (faid he)

That hath his fword through hard affay forgone,
And now hath vowd, till he avenged be

Of that defpight, never to wearen one;
That spear is him enough to doen a thousand grone.
XIII.

Th'enchaunter greatly joyed in the vaunt,
And weened well ere long his will to win,
And both his foen with equal foyl to daunt,
Tho to him louting lowly, did begin,
To plain of wrongs, which had committed bin
By Guyon, and by that falfe Redcrofs Knight;
Which two through treafon and deceitful gin,
Had flain Sir Mordant, and his Lady bright:
That mote him honour win, to wreak so foul despight.
XIV.

Therewith all fuddainly he feem'd enrag'd,

And threatned death with dreadful countenance,
As if their lives had in his hand been gag'd;
And with ftiff force fhaking his mortal launce
To let him weet his doughty valiaunce,

Thus faid; Old man, great fure fhall be thy meed,
If where thofe Knights for fear of due vengeance
Do lurk, thou certainly to me areed,

That I may wreak on them their hainous hateful deed.

XV.

Certes my Lord (faid he) that fhall I foon,
And give you eke good help to their decay :
But mote I wifely you advife to doon;
Give no ods to your foes, but do purvay
Your felf of fword before that bloody day:
For they be two the proweft Knights on ground,
And oft approv'd in many hard assay;

And eke of fureft fteel, that may be found,

Do arm your felf against that day, them to confound. XVI.

Dotard (faid he) let be thy deep advise;

Seems that through many years thy wits thee fail, And that weak eld hath left thee nothing wife; Elfe never should thy judgment be fo frail, To measure manhood by the fword or mail. Is not enough four quarters of a man, Withouten fword or fhield, an hoft to quail? Thou little woteft what this right hand can: Speak they, which have beheld the battles which it wan XVII.

The man was much abashed at his boaft;

Yet well he wift, that whofo would contend
With either of thofe Knights on even coast,
Should need of all his arms him to defend,
Yet feared leaft his boldness should offend;
When Braggadochio faid, once I did swear,
When with one fword feven Knights I brought to end,
Thenceforth in battle never fword to bear,

But it were that, which nobleft Knight on earth doth wear.
XVIII.

Perdie, Sir Knight, faid then th'enchaunter blive,
That fhall I fhortly purchase to your hond:
For now the best and noblest Knight alive
Prince Arthur is, that wonns in Fairy lond;
He hath a sword that flames like burning brond;
The fame (by my advise) I undertake
Shall by to morrow by thy fide be fond.

At which bold word that boafter 'gan to quake, And wondred in his mind, what mote that monster makej

XIX.

He ftaid not for more bidding, but away.
Was fuddain vanifhed out of his fight:
The northern wind his wings did broad difplay
At his command, and reared him up light
From off the earth to take his airy flight.
They lookt about, but no where could efpy
Tract of his foot: then dead through great affright
They both nigh were, and each bade other fly:
Both fled attonce, ne ever back returned eye.
XX.

Till that they come unto a foreft green,

In which they fhrowd themfelves from caufelefs fear, Yet fear them follows ftill, wherefo they been. Each trembling leaf, and whiftling wind they hear, As ghaftly bug their hair on end does rear: Yet both do ftrive their fearfulness to fain. At laft they heard a horn, that shrilled clear Throughout the wood, that ecchoed again, And made the foreft ring, as it would rive in twain.

XXI.

Eft through the thick they heard one rudely rufh;
With noyfe whereof he from his lofty steed
Down fell to ground, and crept into a bush,
To hide his coward head from dying dreed.
But Trompart toutly ftaid to taken heed
Of what might hap. Eftfoon there stepped forth
A goodly Lady, clad in hunters weed,

That feem'd to be a woman of great worth,
And by her ftately portance, born of heavenly birth.
XXII.

Her face fo fair, as flesh it feemed not,

But heavenly pourtraict of bright Angels hew,
Clear as the sky, withouten biame or blot,
Through goodly mixture of complexions dew;
And in her cheeks the vermeill red did fhew
Like roles in a bed of lillies fhed,

The which ambrofial odours from them threw,
And gazers fenfe with double pleasure fed,
Able to heal the fick, and to revive the dead.

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XXIII.

In her fair eyes two living lamps did flame,
Kindled above at th'heavenly makers light,
And darted firy beams out of the fame,
So paffing pierceant, and fo wondrous bright,
That quite bereav'd the rafh beholders fight:
In them the blinded god his luftful fire
To kindle oft affayd, but had no might;
For with dred majefty, and awful ire,

She broke his wanton darts, and quenched bafe defire.
XXIV.

Her ivory forehead, full of bounty brave,
Like a broad table did it felf difpread.
For Love his lofty triumphs to engrave,
And write the battles of his great godhead.
All good and honour might therein be read:
For there their dwelling was. And when the fpake,
Sweet words, like dropping hony fhe did fhed,
And twixt the pearls and rubies foftly brake
A filver found, that heavenly mufick feem'd to make.
XXV.

Upon her eye-lids many Graces fate,
Under the fhadow of her even brows,
Working belgards, and amorous retrate,
And every one her with a grace endows:
And every one with meeknefs to her bow.
So glorious mirrour of celeftial grace,
And foveraine monument of mortal vows,
How fhall frail pen defcrive her heavenly face,
For fear through want of skill her beauty to disgrace?
XXVI.

So fair, and thousand thousand times more fair
She feem'd, when fhe prefented was to fight,
And was yclad (for heat of fcorching air)
All in a filken camus, lilly white,
Purfled upon with many a folded plight,
Which all above befprinkled was throughout,
With golden aygulets, that gliftred bright,
Like twinkling stars, and all the skirt about
Was hemd with golden fringe

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