Till towards night they came unto a plaine, By which a little hermitage there lav,
And nigh thereto a little chappel stoode,
Which being all with yvy overspred
Deckt all the roofe, and, shadowing the roode,
Seem'd like a grove faire braunched over hed:
Therein the hermite, which his life here led
In streight observaunce of religious vow,
Was wont his howres and holy things to bed,
And therein he likewise was praying now,
Whenas these knights arrived, they wist not where
nor how.
They stayd not there, but streightway in did pas: Whom when the hermite present saw in place, From his devotion streight he troubled was; Which breaking off he toward ther did pace With stayed steps and grave beseeming grace : For well it seem'd that whilome he had beene Some goodly person, and of gentle race,
That could his good to all; and well did weene How each to entertaine with curt'sie well beseene:
And soothly it was sayd by common fame,
So long as age enabled him thereto,
That he had bene a man of mickle name,
Renowmed much in armes and derring doe :
But being aged now, and weary to
Of warres delight and worlds contentious toyle,
The name of knighthood he did disavow;
And, banging up his armes and warlike spoyle,
From all this worlds incombrance did himselfe
assoyle.
He thence them led into his hermitage,
Letting their steedes to graze upon the greene
Small was his house, and, like a little cage,
For his owne turne; yet inly neate and clene,
Deckt with greene boughes and flowers gay beseene.
Therein he them full faire did entertaine
Not with such forged showes, as fitter beene
For courting fooles that curtesies would faine
But with entire affection and appearaunce plaine.
Yet was their fare but homely, such as hee
Did use his feeble body to sustaine;
The which full gladly they did take in glee,
Such as it was, ne did of want complaine,
But, being well suffiz'd, them rested faine:
But fair Serene all night could take no rest,
Ne yet that gentle squire, for grievous paine
Of their late woundes, the which the blatant beast
Had given them, whose griefe through suffraunce
sore increast.
So all that night they past in great disease,
Till that the morning, bringing earely light
To guide mens labours, brought them also ease,
And some asswagement of their painefull plight.
Then up they rose, and gan themselves to dight
Unto their journey; but that squire and dame
So faint and feeble were, that they ne might
Endure to travell, nor one foote to frame:
Far from all neighbourhood, the which annoy it may. Their hearts were sicke; their sides were sore;
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