Soon as he Guyon saw, in great affright
And haste he rose, for to remove aside
Those precious hills from stranger's envious sight,
And down them poured through an hole full wide,
Into the hollow earth, them there to hide.
But Guyon lightly to him leaping, staid
His hand, that trembled, as one terrified;

And, though himself were at the sight dismay'd,

But with glad thanks, and unreproved truth,
The gifts of sovereign bounty did embrace:
Like angels' life was then men's happy case;
But later ages' pride (like corn-fed steed)
Abus'd her plenty, and fat swoln increase
To all licentious lust, and gan exceed

The measure of her means, and natural first need.

Yet him perforce restrain'd, and to him doubtful said." Then gan a cursed hand the quiet womb

"What art thou, man, (if man at all thou art)
That here in desart hast thy habitance,
And these rich heaps of wealth dost hide apart
From the world's eye, and from her right usance?"
Thereat, with staring eyes fixed askance,
In great disdain, he answer'd; "Hardy elf,
That darest view my direful countenance,
I read thee rash, and heedless of thyself,

To trouble my still seat, and heaps of precious pelf.

"God of the world and worldlings I me call,
Great Mammon, greatest God below the sky,
That of my plenty pour out unto all,
And unto none my graces do envy :
Riches, renown, and principality,
Honour, estate, and all this worldes good,
For which men swink and sweat incessantly,
From me do flow into an ample flood,

And in the hollow earth have their eternal brood.

"Wherefore if me thou deign to serve and sue,
At thy command lo all these mountains be;
Or if to thy great mind, or greedy view,
All these may not suffice, there shall to thee
Ten times so much be numbered frank and free."
"Mammon" (said he) "thy godhead's vaunt is vain,
And idle offers of thy golden fee;

To them that covet such eye-glutting gain,
Proffer thy gifts, and fitter servants entertain.

"Me ill befits, that in dear-doing arms,
And honour's suit my vowed days do spend,
Unto thy bounteous baits, and pleasing charms,
With which weak men thou witchest, to attend :
Regard of worldly muck doth foully blend
And low abase the high heroic spright,
That joys for crowns and kingdoms to contend;
Fair shields, gay steeds, bright arms, be my delight:
Those be the riches fit for an advent'rous knight."

"Vain-glorious elf" (said he) "dost not thou weet,
That money can thy wants at will supply?
Shields, steeds, and arms, and all things for thee meet,
It can purvey in twinkling of an eye;
And crowns and kingdoms to thee multiply.
Do not I kings create, and throw the crown
Sometimes to him, that low in dust doth lie?
And him that reign'd, into his room thrust down,
And whom I list, do heap with glory and renown."

"All otherwise" (said he) "I riches read,
And deem them root of all disquietness;

"The antique world, in his first flow'ring youth, Found no defect in his Creator's grace;

Of his great grandmother with steel to wound,
And the hid treasures in her sacred tomb,
With sacrilege to dig. Therein he found
Fountains of gold and silver to abound,
Of which the matter of his huge desire
And pompous pride eftsoons he did compound;
Then avarice gan through his veins inspire
His greedy flames, and kindled life-devouring fire."

"Son" (said he then) "let be thy bitter scorn,
And leave the rudeness of that antique age
To them, that liv'd therein in state forlorn;
Thou that dost live in later times, must wage
Thy works for wealth, and life for gold engage;
If then thee list my offer'd grace to use,
Take what thou please of all this surplusage;
If thee list not, leave have thou to refuse:
But thing refused, do not afterward accuse."

"Me list not" (said the elfin knight) "receive
Thing offered, till I know it well be got:
Nor wot I, but thou didst these goods bereave
From rightful owner by unrighteous lot,

"What secret place" (quoth he)" can safely hold
So huge a mass, and hide from heaven's eye?
Or where hast thou thy wonne, that so much gold
Thou canst preserve from wrong and robbery ?"
"Come thou," (quoth he)" and see." So, by and by
Through that thick covert he him led, and found
A darksome way, which no man could descry,
That deep descended through the hollow ground,
And was with dread and horror compassed around.

Lamenting Sorrow did in darkness lie,
And Shame his ugly face did hide from living eye.
And over them sad Horror with grim hue,
Did always soar, beating his iron wings;
And after him, owls and night-ravens flew,
The hateful messengers of heavy things,
Of death and dolour telling sad tidings;
While sad Celeno, sitting on a clift,
A song of bale and bitter sorrow sings,
That heart of flint asunder could have rift:
Which having ended, after him she flyeth swift.

All these before the gates of Pluto lay,

By whom they passing, spake unto them nought,
But th' elfin knight with wonder all the way
Did feed his eyes, and fill'd his inner thought.
At last, he to a little door him brought,
That to the gate of hell, which gaped wide,
Was next adjoining, nor them parted ought;
Betwixt them both was but a little stride,

That did the house of riches from hell mouth divide.

Before the door sat self-consuming Care,
Day and night keeping wary watch and ward,
For fear least force or fraud should unaware
Break in; and spoil the treasure there in guard:
Nor would he suffer Sleep once thitherward
Approach, albe his drowsy den were next;
For, next to death is sleep to be compar'd;
Therefore his house is unto his annex'd;
Here sleep, there riches, and hell gate them

They forward pass, nor Guyon yet spake word,
Till that they came unto an iron door,
Which to them opened of its own accord,
And shew'd of riches such exceeding store,
As eye of man did never see before;
Nor ever could within one place be found,
Though all the wealth, which is, or was of yore,
Could gathered be through all the world around,
And that above were added to that under ground.

The charge thereof unto a covetous spright
Commanded was, who thereby did attend,
And warily awaited day and night,
From other covetous fiends it to defend,
Who it to rob and ransack did intend.
Then Mammon, turning to that warrior, said;
"Lo, here the worldes bliss; lo, here the end,
To which all men do aim, rich to be made:

Such grace now to be happy, is before thee laid." [twixt." Certes" (said he) "I n'ill thine offered grace, both be- Nor to be made so happy do intend;

So soon as Mammon there arriv'd, the door
To him did open, and afforded way;
Him followed eke Sir Guyon evermore,
Nor darkness him, nor danger might dismay.
Soon as he entered was, the door straightway
Did shut, and from behind it forth there leap'd
An ugly fiend, more foul than dismal day,
The which with monstrous stalk behind him stepp'd,
And ever as he went, due watch upon him kept.

Well hoped he, ere long that hardy guest,
If ever covetous hand, or lustful eye,
Or lips he laid on thing, that liked him best,
Or ever sleep his eyestrings did untie,
Should be his prey. And therefore still on high
He over him did hold his cruel claws,
Threatening with greedy gripe to do him die,
And rend in pieces with his ravenous paws,
If ever he transgress'd the fatal Stygian laws.

That house's form within was rude and strong,
Like an huge cave hewn out of rocky clift

Both roof, and floor, and walls, were all of gold,
But overgrown with dust and old decay,
And hid in darkness, that none could behold
The hue thereof: for, view of chearful day
Did never in that house itself display,
But a faint shadow of uncertain light;
Such as a lamp, whose life does fade away:
Or as the moon clothed with cloudy night,
Does shew to him, that walks in fear and sad affright.

Another bliss before mine eyes I place,
Another happiness, another end.

To them that list these base regards I lend:
But I in arms, and in atchievements brave,
Do rather chuse my flitting hours to spend,
And to be lord of those, that riches have,
Than them to have myself, and be their servile slave."

A giant babe, herself for grief did kill;
Or the Thessalian Tempe, where of yore
Fair Daphne Phoebus' heart with love did gore;
Or Ida, where the Gods lov'd to repair,
Whenever they their heavenly bowers forlore;
Or sweet Parnass, the haunt of Muses fair;

Or Eden, if that aught with Eden might compare.

Much wonder'd Guyon at the fair aspect
Of that sweet place, yet suffered no delight
To sink into his sense, nor mind affect,

But passed forth, and look'd still forward right,
Bridling his will, and mastering his might:
Till that he came unto another gate,

No gate, but like one, being goodly dight
With boughs and branches, which did broad dilate
Their clasping arms, in wanton wreathings intricate.

So fashioned a porch with rare device,
Arch'd over head with an embracing vine,
Whose bunches hanging down seem'd to entice
All passers by, to taste their luscious wine,
And did themselves into their hands incline,
As freely offering to be gathered:
Some deep empurpled as the hyacint,
Some as the ruby, laughing sweetly red,
Some like fair emeralds, not yet well ripened.

And them amongst, some were of burnish'd gold,
So made by art, to beautify the rest,
Which did themselves amongst the leaves enfold,
As lurking from the view of covetous guest,
That the weak boughs, with so rich load opprest,
Did bow adown, as overburdened.
Under that porch a comely dame did rest,
Clad in fair weeds, but foul disordered,
And garments loose, that seem'd unmeet for

And that, which all fair works doth most aggrace,
The art, which all that wrought, appeared in no place.

One would have thought (so cunningly the rude
And scorned parts were mingled with the fine)
That nature had for wantonness ensued
Art, and that art at nature did repine;
So striving each th' other to undermine,
Each did the other's work more beautify;
So differing both in wills, agreed in fine:
So all agreed through sweet diversity,
This garden to adorn with all variety.

And in the midst of all, a fountain stood,
Of richest substance that on earth might be,
So pure and shiny, that the silver flood
Through every channel running one might see;
Most goodly it with pure imagery

Was overwrought, and shapes of naked boys,
Of which some seem'd with lively jollity

To fly about, playing their wanton toys,

While others did themselves embathe in liquid joys.

And over all, of purest gold, was spread

A trail of ivy in his native hue:

For, the rich metal was so coloured,
That wight, who did not well advis'd it view,
Would surely deem it to be ivy true:
Low his lascivious arms adown did creep,
That themselves dipping in the silver dew,
Their fleecy flowers they tenderly did steep,
Which drops of chrystal seem'd for wantonness to

Infinite streams continually did well
Out of this fountain, sweet and fair to see,
The which into an ample laver fell,
[head. And shortly grew to so great quantity,
woman-That like a little lake it seem'd to be;

In her left hand a cup of gold she held,
And with her right the riper fruit did reach,
Whose sappy liquor that with fullness swell'd
Into her cup she squeez'd, with dainty breach
Of her fine fingers, without foul impeach,
That so fair wine-press made the wine more sweet;
Thereof she us'd to give to drink to each,
Whom passing by she happened to meet:
It was her guise all strangers goodly so to greet.

So she to Guyon offered it to taste;
Who taking it out of her tender hand,
The cup to ground did violently cast,
That all in pieces it was broken found;
And with the liquor stained all the land:
Whereat Excess exceedingly was wroth,
Yet no'te the same amend, nor yet withstand,
But suffered him to pass, all were she loth;
Who, not regarding her displeasure, forward go'th.

There the most dainty paradise on ground,
Itself doth offer to his sober eye,
In which all pleasures plenteously abound,
And none does others' happiness envy:
The painted flowers, the trees upshooting high,
The dales for shade, the hills for breathing space,
The trembling groves, the chrystal running by;

[weep.

Whose depth exceeded not three cubits height,
That through the waves one might the bottom see,
All pav'd beneath with jasper shining bright,
That seem'd the fountain in that sea did sail upright.

And all the margin round about was set,
With shady laurel trees, thence to defend
The sunny beams, which on the billows bet,
And those which therein bathed, might offend.
As Guyon happened by the same to wend,
Two naked damsels he therein espied,
Which therein bathing, seemed to contend,
And wrestle wantonly, nor cared to hide

Their dainty parts from view of any which them eyed.

Sometimes the one would lift the other quite
Above the waters, and then down again
Her plunge, as over mastered by might,
Where both awhile would covered remain,
And each the other from to rise restrain;
The while their snowy limbs, as through a veil,
So through the chrystal waves appeared plain;
Then suddenly both would themselves unhele,
And th' amorous sweet spoils to greedy eyes reveal.

As that fair star, the messenger of morn,
His dewy face out of the sea doth rear:
Or, as the Cyprian goddess, newly born

Moisten'd their fiery beams, with which she thrill'd
Frail hearts, yet quenched not; like starry light,
Which sparkling on the silent waves, does seem more
bright.

The young man sleeping by her, seem'd to be
Some goodly swain of honourable place,
That certes it great pity was to see

Him his nobility so foul deface;

A sweet regard, and amiable grace,

Mixed with manly sternness, did appear

Yet sleeping in his well proportion'd face,

And on his tender lips the downy hair

Not he whom Greece (the nurse of all good arts)
By Phœbus' doom, the wisest thought alive,
Might be compar'd to these by many parts:
Nor that sage Pylian sire, which did survive
Three ages, such as mortal men contrive,
By whose advice old Priam's city fell,
With these in praise of policies might strive.
These three in these three rooms did sundry dwell,
And counselled fair Alma, how to govern well.

The first of them could things to come foresee:
The next, could of things present best advise;
The third, things past could keep in memory:

Did now but freshly spring, and silken blossoms bear. So that no time, nor reason could arise,

But that the same could one of these comprise.
For thy, the first did in the fore part sit,
That nought might hinder his quick prejudice :
He had a sharp foresight, and working wit,
That never idle was, nor once could rest a whit.

His chamber was dispainted all within,
With sundry colours, in the which were writ
Infinite shapes of things dispersed thin;
Some such as in the world were never yet,
Nor can devised be of mortal wit;

Some daily seen, and knowen by their names,
Such as in idle fantasies do flit:

Infernal hags, centaurs, fiends, hippodames,

Apes, lions, eagles, owls, fools, lovers, children, dames.

And all the chamber filled was with flies,
Which buzzed all about, and made such sound,
That they encumbered all men's ears and eyes,
Like many swarms of bees assembled round,
After their hives with honey do abound:
All those were idle thoughts and phantasies,
Devices, dreams, opinions unsound,
Shows, visions, soothsays, and prophecies;

| And all that feigned is, as leasings, tales, and lies.

Amongst them all sate he which wonned there,
That hight Phantastes by his nature true;
A man of years yet fresh, as might appear,
Of swarth complexion, and of crabbed hue,
That him full of melancholy did shew;
Bent hollow beetle brow, sharp staring eyes,
That mad or foolish seem'd: one by his view
Might deem him born with ill disposed skies,
When oblique Saturn sate in th' house of agonies.

Whom Alma having shewed to her guests,
Thence brought them to the second room, whose walls
Were painted fair with memorable gestes
Of famous wisards, and with picturals
Of magistrates, of courts, of tribunals,
Of commonwealths, of states, of policy,
Of laws, of judgements, and of decretals;
All arts, all science, all philosophy,

And all that in the world was aye thought wittily.

Of those that room was full: and them among
There sate a man of ripe and perfect age,
Who did them meditate all his life long,
That through continual practice and usage,
He now was grown right wise, and wondrous sage.
Great pleasure had those stranger knights to see