With goodly counsell and advisement right;
And streightway sent him carefull diligence,
To fetch a leach, the which had great insight
In that disease of grieved conscience, [tience.
And well could cure the same; his name was Pa-
Who, comming to that sowle-diseased knight,
Could hardly him intreat to tell his grief:
Which knowne, and all, that noyd his heavie spright,
Well searcht, eftsoones he gan apply relief
Of salves and med'cines, which had passing prief;
And thereto added wordes of wondrous might:
By which to ease he him recured brief,
And much aswag'd the passion of his plight, [light.
That he his paine endur'd, as seeming now more
But yet the cause and root of all his ill,
Inward corruption and infected sin,
Not purg'd nor heald, behind remained still,
And festring sore did ranckle yett within,
Close creeping twixt the marow and the skin :
Which to extirpe, he laid him privily
Downe in a darksome lowly place far in,
Whereas he meant his córrosives to apply,
And with streight diet tame his stubborne malady.
In ashes and sackcloth he did array
His daintie corse, proud humors to abate;
And dieted with fasting every day,
The swelling of his woundes to mitigate;
And made him pray both earely and eke late :
And ever, as superfluous flesh did rott,
Amendment readie still at hand did wayt,
To pluck it out with pincers fyrie whott,
That soone in him was lefte no one corrupted iott.
And bitter Penaunce, with an yron whip,
Was wont him once to disple every day:
And sharp Remorse his hart did prick and nip,
That drops of blood thence like a well did play:
And sad Repentance used to embay
His body in salt water smarting sore,
The filthy blottes of sin to wash away.
So in short space they did to health restore [dore.
The man that would not live, but erst lay at deathes
In which his torment often was so great,
That, like a lyon, he would cry and rore;
And rend his flesh; and his owne synewes eat.
His owne deare Una, hearing evermore
His ruefull shriekes and gronings, often tore
Her guiltlesse garments and her golden heare,
For pitty of his payne and anguish sore:
Yet all with patience wisely she did beare;
For well she wist his cryme could else be never
cleare.
Whom, thus recover'd by wise Patience
And trew Repentaunce, they to Una brought;
Who, ioyous of his cured conscience,
Him dearely kist, and fayrely eke besought
Himselfe to chearish, and consuming thought
To put away out of his carefull brest.
By this Charissa, late in child-bed brought,
Was woxen strong, and left her fruitfull nest:
To her fayre Una brought this unacquainted guest.
She was a woman in her freshest age,
Of wondrous beauty, and of bounty rare,
With goodly grace and comely personage,
That was on Earth not easie to compare';
Full of great love; but Cupids wanton snare
As Hell she hated; chaste in worke and will;
Her necke and brest were ever open bare,
That ay thereof her babes might suck their fill;
The rest was all in yellow robes arayed still.
A multitude of babes about her hong,
Playing their sportes, that ioyd her to behold; Whom still she fed, whiles they were weake and
But thrust them forth still as they wexed old:
And on her head she wore a tyre of gold,
Adornd with gemmes and owches wondrous fayre,
Whose passing price uneath was to be told:
And by her syde there sate a gentle payre
Of turtle doves, she sitting in an yvory chayre.
The knight and Una entring fayre her greet,
And bid her ioy of that her happy brood:
Who them requites with court'sies seeming meet,
And entertaynes with friendly cheerfull mood.
Then Una her besought, to be so good
As in her vertuous rules to schoole her knight,
Now after all his torment well withstood
In that sad House of Penaunce, where his spright
Had past the paines of Hell and long-enduring night.
She was right ioyous of her iust request;
And, taking by the hand that Faeries sonne,
Gan him instruct in everie good behest,
Of love;
and righteousness; and well to donne;
And wrath and hatred warely to shonne,
VOL. II.
That drew on men Gods hatred and his wrath,
And many soules in dolours had fordonne;
In which when him she well instructed hath, [path.
From thence to Heaven she teacheth him the ready
Wherein his weaker wandring steps to guyde,
An auncient matrone she to her does call.
Whose sober lookes her wisedome well descryde;
Her name was Mercy; well knowne over all
To be both gratious and eke liberall:
To whom the carefull charge of him she gave,
To leade aright, that he should never fall
In all his waies though this wide worldës wave;
That Mercy in the end his righteous soule might
The godly matrone by the hand him beares
Forth from her presence, by a narrow way,
Scattred with bushy thornes and ragged breares,
Which still before him she remov'd away,
That nothing might his ready passage stay :
And ever when his feet encombred were,
Or gan to shrinke, or from the right to stray:
Sbe held him fast, and firmly did upbeare;
As careful nourse her child from falling oft does
Eftsoones unto an holy hospitall,
That was foreby 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 daies 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.
The first of them, that eldest was and best,
Of all the house had charge and government,
As guardian and steward of the rest:
His office was to give entertainemént
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 of harbour did constraine :
Those for Gods sake his dewty was to entertaine.
The second was an almer 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.
The third had of their wardrobe custody,
In which were not rich tyres, nor garments gay,
The plumes of pride, and wingds of vanity,
But clothes meet to keep keene cold away,
And naked nature seemely to array;
With which bare wretched wights he dayly clad,
The images of God in earthly clay;
And, if no spare clothes to give he had,
His owne cote he would cut, and it distribute glad.
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