44 Nigh his wits end then woxe th' amazed knight,
And thought his labor lost, and travell vaine,
Against this lifelesse shadow so to fight:
Yet life he saw, and felt his mightie maine,
That whiles he marveild still, did still him paine;
For thy he gan some other wayes advize,
How to take life from that dead-living swaine,
Whom still he marked freshly to arize
From th' earth, and from her wombe new spirits to reprize.
45 He then remembred well, that had bene sayd,
How th' Earth his mother was, and first him bore;
She eke so often, as his life decayd,
Did life with usury to him restore,
And raysd him up much stronger then before,
So soone as he unto her wombe did fall:
Therefore to ground he would him cast no more,
Ne him commit to grave terrestriall,
But beare him farre from hope of succour usuall.
46 Tho up he caught him twixt his puissant hands,
And having scruzd out of his carrion corse
The lothfull life, now loosd from sinfull bands,
Upon his shoulders carried him perforse
Above three furlongs, taking his full course,
Until he came unto a standing lake;
Him there into he threw without remorse,
Ne stird, till hope of life did him forsake:
So end of that carles dayes and his owne paines did make.
47 Which when those wicked hags from farre did spy,
Like two mad dogs they ran about the lands,
And th' one of them with dreadfull yelling cry,
Throwing away her broken chaines and bands,
And having quencht her burning fier brands,
Hedlong her selfe did cast into that lake;
But Impotence with her owne wilfull hands
One of Malegers cursed darts did take,
So riv'd her trembling hart, and wicked end did make.
48 Thus now alone he conquerour remaines :
Tho comming to his squire, that kept his steed,
Thought to have mounted, but his feeble vaines
Him faild thereto, and served not his need,
Through losse of bloud which from his wounds did bleed,
That he began to faint, and life decay:
But his good squire, him helping up with speed,
With stedfast hand upon his horse did stay,
And led him to the castle by the beaten way.
49 Where many groomes and squiers readie were
To take him from his steed full tenderly;
And eke the fairest Alma met him there
With balme, and wine, and costly spicery,
To comfort him in his infirmity:
Eftsoones she causd him up to be convayd,
And of his armes despoyled easily;
In sumptuous bed she made him to be layd,
And all the while his wounds were dressing, by him stayd.
Guyon by palmers governance,
Passing through perils great,
Doth overthrow the Bowre of Blisse,
And Acrasie defeat.
I Now gins that goodly frame of Temperance
Fairely to rise, and her adorned hed
To pricke of highest praise forth to advance,
Formerly grounded, and fast setteled
On firme foundation of true bountihed;
And this brave knight, that for this vertue fights,
Now comes to point of that same perilous sted,
Where Pleasure dwelles in sensuall delights,
Mongst thousand dangers and ten thousand magick mights.
2 Two dayes now in that sea he sayled has,
Ne ever land beheld, ne living wight,
Ne ought save perill, still as he did pas:
Tho when appeared the third morrow bright
Upon the waves to spred her trembling light,
An hideous roaring far away they heard,
That all their senses filled with affright;
And streight they saw the raging surges reard
Up to the skyes, that them of drowning made affeard.
3 Said then the boteman, Palmer stere aright,
And keepe an even course; for yonder way
We needes must passe (God doe us well acquight,)
That is the Gulfe of Greedinesse, they say,
That deepe engorgeth all this worldes pray;
Which having swallowd up excessively,
He soone in vomit up againe doth lay,
And belcheth forth his superfluity,
That all the seas for feare doe seeme away to fly.
4 On th' other side an hideous rocke is pight
Of mighty magnes stone, whose craggie clift
Depending from on high, dreadfull to sight,
Over the waves his rugged armes doth lift,
And threatneth downe to throw his ragged rift
On whoso cometh nigh; yet nigh it drawes
All passengers, that none from it can shift:
For, whiles they fly that gulfes devouring jawes,
They on the rock are rent, and sunck in helplesse wawes.
5 Forward they passe, and strongly he them rowes,
Untill they nigh unto that gulfe arrive,
Where streame more violent and greedy growes:
Then he with all his puissance doth stryve
To strike his oares, and mightily doth drive
The hollow vessell through the threatfull wave;
Which, gaping wide to swallow them alive
In th' huge abysse of his engulfing grave,
Doth rore at them in vaine, and with great terror rave.
6 They, passing by, that griesly mouth doe see
Sucking the seas into his entralles deepe,
That seemd more horrible than hell to bee,
Or that darke dreadfull hole of Tartare steepe,
Through which the damned ghosts doen often creep
Backe to the world, bad livers to torment:
But nought that falles into this direfull deepe,
Ne that approcheth nigh the wide descent,
May backe returne, but is condemned to be drent.
7 On th' other side they saw that perilous rocke,
Threatning it selfe on them to ruinate,
On whose sharp clifts the ribs of vessels broke;
And shivered ships, which had bene wrecked late,
Yet stuck, with carcases exanimate
Of such, as having all their substance spent
In wanton joyes and lustes intemperate,
Did afterwardes make shipwracke violent
Both of their life and fame for ever fowly blent.
8 Forthy this hight the Rock of vile Reproch,
A daungerous and detestable place,
To which nor fish nor fowle did once approch,
But yelling meawes, with seagulles, hoarse and bace,
And cormoyrants, with birds of ravenous race,
Which still sat waiting on that wastfull clift
For spoile of wretches, whose unhappie cace,
After lost credit and consumed thrift,
At last them driven hath to this despairefull drift.
9 The palmer seeing them in safetie past,
Thus said; Behold th' ensamples in our sights
Of lustfull luxurie and thriftlesse wast:
What now is left of miserable wights,
Which spent their looser daies in lewd delights,
But shame and sad reproch, here to be red
By these rent reliques speaking their ill plightes?
Let all that live hereby be counselled
To shunne Rocke of Reproch, and it as death to dred.
10 So forth they rowed, and that ferryman
With his stiffe oares did brush the sea so strong,
That the hoare waters from his frigot ran,
And the light bubbles daunced all along,
Whiles the salt brine out of the billowes sprong.
At last farre off they many islands spy
On every side floting the floods emong:
Then said the knight, Loe I the land descry,
Therefore old syre thy course do thereunto apply.
II That may not be, said then the ferryman,
Least we unweeting hap to be fordonne:
For those same islands, seeming now and than, ·
Are not firme land, nor any certein wonne,
But straggling plots, which to and fro do ronne
In the wide waters: therefore are they hight
The Wandring Islands: therefore doe them shonne;
For they have oft drawne many a wandring wight
Into most deadly daunger and distressed plight.
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