Varlet, this place moft due to me I deem, Yielded by him that held it forcibly.
But whence fhould come that harm, which thou doft feem To threat to him, that minds his chance t'aby? Perdy (faid he) here comes, and is hard by A Knight of wondrous powre, and great affay, That never yet encountred enemy
But did him deadly daunt, or foul difmay; Ne thou for better hope, if thou his prefence stay. XLI.
How hight he then (faid Guyon) and from whence? Pyrochles is his name, renowned far
For his bold feats and hardy confidence, Full oft approv'd in many a cruel war, The brother of Cymochles, both which are The fons of old Acrates and Defpight; Acrates fon of Phlegeton and Jar:
But Phlegeton is fon of Herebus and Night: But Herebus fon of Eternity is hight.
So from immortal race he does proceed,
That mortal hands may not withstand his might, Drad for his derring doe, and bloody deed; For all in blood and fpoil is his delight. His am I Atin, his in wrong and right. That matter make for him to work upon, And ftir him up to ftrife and cruel fight. Fly therefore, Ay this fearful ftead anon, Left thy fool-hardize work thy fad confufion.'" XLIII.
His be that care, whom moft it doth concern (Said he): but whither with fuch hafty flight Art thou now bound? for well mote I difcern Great cause, that carries thee so swift and light. My Lord (quoth he) me fent, and ftraight behight To feek Occafion, wherefo fhe be:
For he is all difpos'd to bloody fight,
And breathes out wrath and hainous cruelty : Hard is his hap, that firft falls in his jeopardy.
Mad-man (faid then the Palmer) that does feek Occafion to wrath, and cause of strife;
She comes unfought, and fhunned follows eke. Happy who can abstain, when rancour rife Kindles revenge, and threats his rufty knife; Woe never wants, where every caufe is caught, And rafh Occafion makes unquiet life.
Then lo, where bound fhe fits, whom thou haft fought, (Said Guyon) let that meffage to thy Lord be brought.
That when the varlet heard and faw, ftraightway He wexed wondrous wroth, and faid, vile Knight, That Knights andKnighthood doft with fhame upbray, And fhew'ft th'enfample of thy childish might, With filly weak old woman thus to fight; Great glory and gay spoil sure haft thou got, And ftoutly prov'd thy puiffance here in fight; That fhall Pyrochles well requite, I wot,
And with thy blood abolish fo reproachful blot. XLVI.
With that, one of his thrillant darts he threw, Headed with ire and vengeable defpight. The quivering fteel his aimed end well knew, And to his breaft itfelf intended right: But he was wary, and ere it empight
In the meant mark, advanct his fhield atween; On which it feizing, no way enter might, But back rebounding, left the forkhead keen; Eftfoons he fled away, and might no where be seen.
Pyrochles does with Guyon fight, And Furors chain unbinds :
Of whom fore hurt, for his revenge Atin Cymochles finds.
Whoever doth to temperance apply
His ftedfaft life, and all his actions frame, Truft me fhall find no greater enemy, Than ftubborn perturbation to the fame; To which right well the wife do give that name, For it the goodly peace of stayed minds
Does overthrow, and troublous war proclaim: His own woes authour, whofo bound it finds, As did Pyrochles, and it wilfully unbinds.
After that varlets flight, it was not long, Ere on the plain faft pricking Guyon spide One in bright Arms embattailed full strong, That as the funny beams do glance and glide Upon the trembling wave, fo fhined bright, And round about him threw forth fparkling fire, That feem'd him to enflame on every fide: His fteed was bloody red and foamed ire, When with the mastring spur he did him roughly stire. III.
Approaching nigh, he never ftaid to greet,
Ne chaffer words, proud courage to provoke, But prickt fo fierce, that underneath his feet The fmouldring duft did round about him smoke, Both horse and man nigh able for to choke; And fairly couching his fteel-headed-fpear, Him firft faluted with a sturdy stroke; It booted nought Sir Guyon coming near To think fuch hideous puiffance on foot to bear
IV.
But lightly fhunned it, and paffing by, With his bright blade did fmite at him fo fell, That the sharp fteel arriving forcibly
On his broad fhield bit not, but glancing fell On his horfe neck before the quilted fell, And from the head the bady fundred quight: So him difmounted low, he did compel On foot with him to matchen equal fight, The trunked beaft faft bleeding, did him fouly dight,
Sore bruized with the fall, he flow uprofe, And all enraged, thus him loudly fhent; Difleal Knight, whofe coward courage chofe To wreak it felf on beaft all innocent,
And fhun'd the mark, at which it fhould be meant, Thereby thine arms seem strong, but manhood frail. So haft thou oft with guile thine honour blent; But little may fuch guile thee now avail,
If wonted force and fortune do not much me fail. VI.
With that he drew his flaming fword, and ftrook At him fo fiercely, that the upper marge Of his fevenfolded fhield away it took, And glancing on his helmet, made a large And open gafh therein were not his targe, That broke the violence of his intent,
The weary foul from thence it would discharge; Nathelefs, fo fore a buff to him it lent,
That made him reel, and to his breaft his bever bent VII.
Exceeding wrath was Guyon at that blow,
And much asham'd that stroke of living arm Should him difmay, and make him stoop fo low, Though otherwife it did him little harm: Tho hurling high his iron braced arm, He fmote fo manly on his fhoulder plate, That all his left fide it did quite difarm; Yet there the steel staid not but inly bate Deep in his flesh, and open'd wide a red flood-gate,
Deadly difmaid with horrour of that dint, Pyrochles was, and grieved eke entire ; Yet nathemore did it his fury stint, But added flame unto his former fire, That well nigh molt his heart in raging ire: Ne thenceforth his approved fkill, to ward, Or ftrike, or hurtle round in warlike gyre, Remembred he, ne car'd for his fafeguard, But rudely rag'd, and like a cruel Tygre far'd; IX.
He hew'd, and lafht, and foynd, and thundred blows, And every way did feek into his life:
Ne plate, ne mail could ward fo mighty throws, But yielded paffage to his cruel knife. But Guyon, in the heat of all his ftrife, Was wary-wife, and clofely did await Avantage, whilft his foe, did rage most rife: Sometimes athwart, fometimes he ftrook him ftrait, And falfed oft his blows, t'illude him with fuch bait. X.
Like as a Lyon, whofe imperial powre
A proud rebellious Unicorn defies,
T'avoid the rafh affault and wrathful ftowre Of his fierce foe, him to a tree applies, And when him running in full course he fpies, He flips afide the whiles that furious beast His precious horn fought of his enemies, Strikes in the stock, ne thence can be releast, But to the mighty victor yields a bounteous feast. XI.
With fuch fair fleight him Guyon often fail'd Till at the last, all breathlefs, weary, faint, Him fpying, with fresh onset he affail'd, And kindling new his courage (feeming queint) Strook him fo hugely, that through great constraint He made him ftoop perforce unto his knee, And do unwilling worship to the faint, That on his fhield depainted he did fee; Such homage till that inftant never learned hes
« PreviousContinue » |