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Thus fairely shee attempered her feast,

Night was far spent; and now in occan deep And pleasd them all with mette satiety :

Orion, flying fast from hissing Snake,
At last, when lust of meat and drinke was ceast, His flaming bead did hasten for to steep,
She Guyon deare besought of curtesie

When of his pitteous tale he end did make :
To tell from whence he came through jeopardy, Whilst with delight of that he wisely spake
And whether now on new adventure bownd: Those guestes beguyled did beguyle their eyes
Who with bold grace, and comely gravity, Of kindly sleepe, that did them overtake.
Draving to himn the eies of all arownd,

At last, when they had inarkt the chauuged skyes, From lofty siege began these words aloud to sownd. They wist their boure was spent; then each to rest

him hyes.
“This tby demaund, O lady, doth revive 1
Fresh memory in me of that great queene,
Great and most glorious virgin queene alive,

CANTO II.
That with her soveraine power, and scepter shene,
All Faery lond does peaceably sustene.

Vaine Braggadocchio, getting Guy-
In v dest ocean she her throne does reare,

ons horse, is made the scorne That over all the earth it may be seene;

Of knighthood trew; and is of fayre
As morning Sunne her beames dispredden cleare ; Belphæbe fowle forlorne.
And in her face faire peace and mercy doth ap-
peare.

Soone as the morrow fayre with purple beames

Disperst the shadowes of the misty night, In her the richnesse of all heavenly grace

And Titan, playing on the eastern streames, In chiefe degree are heaped up on hye:

Gan cleare the deawy ayre with springing light; And all, that els this worlds enclosure bace

Sir Guyon, mindfull of his vow yplight, Hath great or glorious in mortall eye,

Uprose from drowsie couch, and him addrest Adomes the person of her maiestye;

Unto the journey which he had behight: That men, beholding so great excellence

His puissant armes about his noble brest, And rare perfection in mortalitye,

And many-foided shield he bound about his wrest. Doe her adore with sacred reverence, As th' idole of her Makers great magnificence. Then, taking congè of that virgin pure,

The bloody-handed babe unto her truth * To ber homage and my service owe,

Did earnestly committ, and her conjure In number of the noblest knightes on ground, In vertuous lore to traine his tender youth, Mongst whom on me she deigned to bestowe And all that gentle uoriture ensu'th; Order of Maydenhead, the most renownd, And that, so soone as ryper yeares he raught, That may this day in all the world be found. He might, for memory of that dayes ruth, An yearely solemne feast she wontes to make, Be called Ruddymane; and thereby taught The day that first doth lead the yeare around, T avenge his parents death on them that had it To which all knights of worth and courage bold

wrought. Resort, to heare of straunge adventures to be told.

So forth he far'd, as now befell, on foot,
# There this old palmer shewd himselfe that day, Sith his good steed is lately from him gone;
And to that mighty princesse did complaine Patience perforce: helplesse what may it boot
Of grievous mischiefes, which a wicked Fay To frett for anger, or for griefe to mone?
Had wrought, and many whelmd in deadly paine, His palmer vow shall foot no more alone.
Whereof he crav'd redresse. My soveraine, So fortune wrought, at under greene woodes syde
Whose glory is in gracious deeds, and ioyes He lately heard that dying lady grope,
Throughout the world her mercy to maintaine, He left bis steed without, and speare besyde,
Eftsoones devisd redresse for such annoyes : And rushed it on foot to ayd her ere she dyde.
Me, all unfitt for so great purpose, she employes.

The whyles a losell wandring by the way,
* Now hath faire Phebe with her silver face One that to bountie never cast his mynd,
Thrise seene the shadowes of the neather world, Ne thought of honour ever did assay
Sith last I left that honorable place,

His baser brest, but in his kestrell kypd
In which her roiall presencc is entruld;

A pleasiog vaine of glory be did fynd, Ne ever shall I rest in boase por hold,

To which his flowing toung and troublous spright Till I that false Acrasia have wonne;

Gave him great ayd, and made him more inclynd; Of whose fowle deedes, too bideous to bee told, He, that brave steed there finding ready dight, I witnesse am, and this their wretched sonne Purloynd both steed and speare, and ran away full Whose wofull parents she hath wickedly fordonne." light. “Tell on, fayre sir,” said she, “ that dolefull tale, Now gan his hart all swell in jollity, From which sad ruth does seetne you to restraine, And of bimselfe great hope and help conceiv'd, That we may pitty such unhappie bale,

That puffed up with smoke of vanity, And learne from Pleasures poyson to abstaine : And with selfe-loved personage deceiv'd, III, by ensample, good doth often gayne."

He gan to hope of men to be receiv'd Then forward he his purpose gan pursew,

For such, as he him thought, or faine would bee: And told the story of the mortall payne,

But for in court gay portaunce he perceivd, Which Mordant and Amavia did rew;

And gallant shew to be in greatest gree, [gree. As, with lamenting eyes, himselfe did lately vew. Eftsoones to court he cast t' advaunce his first deAnd by the way he chauneed to espy

Th' enchaunter greatly ioyed in the vaunt, One sitting ydle on a sunny banek,

And weened well ere long his will to win, To whom avainting in great bravery,

And both his foen with equall foyle to daunt: As peacocke that his painted plumes doth pranck, | Tho to him louting lowly did begin Hle smote his courser in the trembling flanck, To plaine of wror.ges, which had committed bin And to him threatner his hart-thrilling speare: By Guyon, and by that false Redcrosse knight ; The seely man, seeing him ryde so ranck

Which two, through treason and deceiptfoli gin, And ayme at him, fell flat to ground for feare, Had slayne sir Mordant and his lady bright: And crying, “ Mercy," loud, bis pitious handes That mute him honour win, towreak so foule despight. gan reare.

Therewith all suddeinly be seemd enrag'd,

Aud threatned death with dreadfull countenaunce, Thereat the scarcrow wexed wondrous prowd,

As if their lives bad in his hand beene gag'd; Through fortune of his first adventure fayre,

And with stiffe force shaking his mortal launce, And with big thundring voice revyld hiin lowd;

To let him weet his dongbtie valiaunce, “ Vile captive, vassall of dread and despayre, Unworthie of the commune breathed ayre,

Thus said; “Old man, great sure shal be thy merd, Why livest thou, dead dog, a lenger day,

Jf, where those knighis for feare of dew vengeaúnce And doest not unto death thyselfe prepayre?

Doe lurke, thou certe.niy to mce areed, [deed." Dy, or thyselfe my captive yield for ay: [stay."

That I may wreake on them their bainous hateful Great favour I thee graunt for aunswere thus to “ Certes, my lord,” said he, “ that shall I soonc,

And give you eke good helpe to their decay. “Jlold, O deare lord, hold your dead-doing hand,” But mote I wisely you advise to doon; Then lond he cryde, “ I am your humble thrall." Give no ods to your fves, but doe purvay Ah, wretch," quoth he, “thy destinies withstand Yourselfe of sword before that bloudy day; My wrathfull will, and doe for mercy call. (For they be two the prowest knights on grownd, I give thee life: therefore prostrated fall,

And oft approv'd in many hard assay ;)
And kisse my stirrnp; that thy homage bee." And eke of surest steele, that may be fownd,
The miser tbrew himselfe, as an offáll,

Do arme yourselfe against that day, them to conStreight at his foot in base hunjitee,

fownd.” And cleeped him his liege, to hold of him in fee.

“ Dotard," saide he, “let be thy deepe advise ; So happy peace they made and faire accord. Seemnes that through many yeares thy wits thee faile, Eftsvones this liegeran gan to wexe more bold,

And that weake eld hath left thee nothing wise, Ind, when he felt the folly of his lord,

Els never should thy judgement be so frayle In his owne kind he gan himselfe unfold:

To measure manhood by the sword or mayle. For he was wylie witted, and growne old

Is not enough fovre quarters of a man, In cunning sleightes and practick knavery.

Withouten sword or shield, an boste lo quayle? From that day forth be cast for to uphold

Thou litle wotest that this right-hand can: Ilis ydle humour with fine flattery,

Speake they, which have beheld the battailes wbich And blow the bellowes to his swelling vanity.

it wan.”

The man was much abashed at his boast; 'Trompart, fitt man for Braggadocchio

Yet well he wist that whoso would contend 'Po serve at court in view of vaunting eye;

With either of those knightes on even coast, Vaine-glorious man, when Auttring wind does blow Should neede of all his armes him to defend; In his light winges, is lifted up to skye;

Yet feared least his boldnesse should offend : The scorne of knighthond and trew chevalrye, When Braggadocchio saide; “ Once I did sweare, To thinke, without desert of gentle deed

When with one sword seven knightes Ibrought to end, And noble worth, to be adraunced hye;

Thenceforth in battaile never sword to beare, Such prayse is shame; but honour, vertues meed, But it were that which noblest knigót on Earth doth Doth beare the fayrest flowre in honourable seed.

weare." So forth they pas, a well consorted payre,

“Perdy, sir Knight," saide then th'enchaunter blive, Fill that at length with Archimage they meet :

That shall I shortly purchase to your hond: Who seeing ore, that shone in arınour fayre,

For now the best and noblest knighi alive

Prince Arthur is, that wonnes in Faerie lond; On goodiy courser thondring with his feet, Eftsoones supposed him a perym meet

He hath a sword, that fames like burning brond : Of his revenge to make the instrument :

The same, by my device, I undertake For since the Redcrosse knight he erst did weet

Shall by to morrow by thy side be fond."

At which bold word that boaster gan to quake, To been with Guyon knitt in one consent,

And woudred in his minde what mote that monster The ill, which earst to him, le now to Guyon ment.

make. And comming close to Trompárt gan inquere He stayd not for more bidding, but away Of him, what mightie warriour that mote bee, Was suddein vanished out of his sight: 'That rode in golden sell with single spere,

The northerne winde his wings did broad display Rut wanted sword to wreake his entitee.

At his commaund, and reared hin, up light “ He is a great adventurer,” said he,

From of the earth to take bis aerie flight. " That hath his sword through hard assay forgone, They lookt about, but no where could espye And now hath vowd, till he avenged bee

Tract of his font: then dead through great affright Of that despigbt, never to wearen none;

They both nigh were, and each bad other flye: "That speare is him enough to docna ihousand grone.” Both fled attonce, ne ever backe retourred eye,

Till that they come into a forrest greene, [feare; | Below her ham ber weed did somewhat trayne,
In which they shrowd themselves from causeles And her streight legs most bravely were embayld
Yet feare them followes still, where so they beene: lu gilden buskins of costly cordwáyne,
Fach trembling leafe and whistling wind they hcare, All bard with golden bendes, which were entayld
As ghastly bog, does greatly them affeare: With curious antickes, and full fayre aumayld:
Yet both doe strive their fearfulnesse to faine. Before, they fastned were under her knee
At last they heard a horne that shrilled cleare In a rich jewell, and therein entrayld
Throughout the wood that ecchoed againe,

The ends of all the knots, that none might sce
And made the forrest ring, as it would rive in twaine. | How they within their fouldings close enwrapped bee:
Eft through the thicke they heard one rudely rush; Like two faire marble pillours they were seene,
Wib noyse whereof he from his loftie steed Which doe the temple of the gods support,
Downe fell to ground, and crept into a bush, Whom all the people decke with girlands greene,
To hide his covard head from dying dreed. And honour in their festivall resort;
Bat Trompart stoutly stayd to taken heed Those same with stately grace and princely port
Of what might hap. Eftsnone these stepped foorth She taught to tread, when she herselfe would grace;
A goodly ladie clad in hanters weed,

But with the woody nymphes when she did play, That seemd to be a woman of great worth, Or when the flying libbard she did chace, And by her stately portance borne of heavenly birth. She could them nimbly move, and after fly apace. Her face so faire, as flesh it seemed not,

And in her hand a sharpe bore-speare she held, But herenly poartraict of bright angels hew, And at her backe a bow and quiver gay, Cleare as the skye, withouten blame or blot, Stuft with steel-headed dartes wherew: h she queld Through goodly mixture of complexions dew; The salvage beastes in her victorious play, And in her cheekes the vermeill red did shew Knit with a golden bauldricke which forelay Like roses in a bed of lillies shed,

Athwart her snowy brest, and did divide The which ambrosiall odours froin them threw, Her daintie paps ; which, like young fruit in May, Aal gazérs sence with double pleasure fed, Now little gan to swell, and being tide Hable to heale the sicke and to revive the dcd. Through her thin weed their places only signifide. In her faire eyes two living lamps did name, Her yellow lockes, crisped like golden wyre, Kimlled above at th' herenly Makers light, About her shoulders weren loosely shed, And darted fyrie beames out of the same,

And, when the winde emongst them did inspyre, So passing persant, and so wondrous bright, They waved like a penon wyde despred, "That quite bereav'd the rash beholders sight : And low behinde her backe were scattered: la them the blinded god his lustfull fyre

And, whether art it were or heedlesse hap, To kindle oft assayd, but had no might;

As through the flouring forrest rash she ded, Por, with dredd maiestie and awfull yre, (syre. In her rude heares sweet flowres themselves did lap, She broke his wanton darts, and quenched bace de- And flourishing fresh leaves and blossomes did en

wrap Her yrorie forhead, full of bonntie brave, Like a broad table did itselfe dispred,

Such as Diana by the sandy shore For Love his loftie triomphes to engrave,

Of swift Eurotas, or on Cynthus greene, And write the battailes of his great godbed : Where all the nymphes have her unwares forlore, Ah good and honour might therein be red; Wandreth alone with bow and arrowes keene, For there their dwelling was. And, when she spake, To seeke her game: or as that famous queene Seete wordes, like dropping honny, she did shed; Of Amazons, whom Pyrrhus did destroy, And twist the perles and rubins softly brake The day that first of Priame she was seene, Asilver sound that heavenly musicke seemd to make. Did shew herselfe in great triumphant ioy,

To succour the weake state of sad afflicted Troy. ['pon her eyelids many Graces sate, Under the shadow of her even browes,

Such when as hartlesse Trompart her did vew, Workin: belgardes and amorous retrate;

He was dismayed in his coward minde, And everie one her with a grace endowes,

And doubted whether he himselfe should shew, And ererie one with meekenesse to her bowes: Or fly away, or bide alone behinde; So glorious mirrhour of celestiall grace,

Both feare and hope he in her face did finde: And soveraine moniment of mortall vowes,

When she at last him spying thus bespake; (hynde, Hor shall frayle pen descrive her heavenly face, “ Hayle, groome; didst not thou see a bleeding Fur feare, through want of skill, her beauty to dis- Whose right haunch earst my stedfast arrow strake?

If thou didst, tell me, that I may her overtake.”

grace!

So faire, and thousand thousand times more faire,
She seemd, when she presented was to sight;
And was yclad, for heat of scorching aire,
All in a silken Camus lilly whight,
Parded upon with many a folded plight,
Which all above besprinckled was throughout
With golden aygulets, that glistred bright,
Lke twinckliog starres; and all the skirt about
Was hemd with golden fr nge.

Wherewith reviv'd, this answere forth he threw;
“ O goddesse, (for such I thee take to bee)
Por nether doth thy face terrestriall shew,
Nor voyce sound mortall; I avow to thee,
Such wounded beast, as that, I did not see,
Sith earst into this forrest wild I came.
But mote thy goodlyhed forgive it mee,
To weete which of the gods I shall thee name,
That unto thee dew worship I may rightly frame.”
To whom she thus—But ere her words ensewd, “ In woods, in waves, in warres, she wonts to dwell
Unto the bush her eye did suddein glance, And wil be found with perill and with paine;
In which vaine Braggadocchio was mewd,

Ne can the man, that moulds in ydle cell,
And saw it stirre: she lefte her percing launce, Unto her happy mansion attaine:
And towards gan a deadly shafte advaunce, Before her gate high God did Sweate ordaine,
In minde to marke the beast. At which sad stowre, And wakefull Watches ever to abide:
Trompart forth stept, to stay the mortall chaunce, But easy is the way and passage plaine
Out crying; “ 0! whatever hevenly powre, To Pleasures pallace; it may soone be spide,
Orearthly wight thou be, withhold this deadly howre! And day and night her dores to all stand open

wide. “ O! stay thy hand; for yonder is no game For thy fiers arrowes, them to exercize;

“ In princes court”—The rest she would have But loe! my lord, my liege, whose warlike name

sayd, Is far renownd through many bold einprize; But that the foolish man (fild with delight And now in shade he shrowded yonder lies." Of her sweete words that all his sence dismayd, She staid: with that he crauld out of his nest, And with her wondrous beauty ravisht quight,) Forth creeping ou his caitive hands and thies; Gan burne in filthy Just; and, leaping light, And standing stoutly up bis lofty crest (rest. Thought in his bastard armes her to embrace. Did fiercely shake, and rowze as comming late from With that she, swarving backe, her iavelin bright

Against him bent, and fiercely did menáce:
As fearfull fowle, that long in secret cave

So turned her about, and fed away apace.
For dread of soring hauke herselfe hath hid,
Not caring how, her silly life to save,

Which when the pesa unt saw, amazd he stood, She her gay painted plumes disorderid;

And grieved at her flight; yet durst he not Seeing at last herselfe from daunger rid,

Pursew her steps through wild unknowen wood; Peeps forth, and soone renews her native pride; Besides he feard her wrath, and threatened shott, She gins her feathers fowle disfigured

Whiles in the bush he lay, not yet forgott: Prowdly to prune, and sett on every side ; [hide. Ne card he greatly for her presence vayne, She shakes off shame, ne thinks how erst she did her But turning said to Trompart; “What fowle blott

Is this to knight, that lady should agayne So when her goodly visage he beheld,

Depart to woods untoucht, and leave so proud disHe gan himselfe to vaunt: but, when he vewd

dayne!" Those deadly tooles which in her hand she held, Soone into other fitts he was transmewd,

“ Perdy,” said Trompart, “lett her pas at will, Till she to him her gracious speach renewd;

Least by her presence daunger mote befall. “ All haile, sir Knight, and well inay thee befall,

For who can tell (and sure I feare it ill) As all the like, which honor have pursewd

But that shee is some powre celestiall? Through deeds of armes and prowesse martiall!

For, whiles she spake, her great words did appall All vertue merits praise, but such the most of all.

My feeble corage, and my heart oppresse,

That yet I quake and tremble over all." To whom he thus; “O fairest under skie, “ And I,” said Braggadocchio, " thought no lesse, Trew be thy words, and worthy of thy praise, When first I heard her horn sound with such ghastThat warlike feats doest highest glorifie.

linesse. Therein I have spent all my youthly daies, And many battailes fought and many fraies

“ For from my mothers wombe this grace I have Throughout the world, wherso they might be found, Me given by eternail destiny, Endevoring my dreaded name to raise

That earthly thing may not my corage brave Above the Moone, that Fame may it resound

Dismay with feare, or cause one foote to flye, In her eternall tromp with laurell girlond cround. But either hellish feends, or powres on hye:

Which was the cause, when earst that horne I “ But what art thou, O lady, which doest raunge

heard, In this wilde forest, where no pleasure is,

Weening it had beene thunder in the skye, And doest not it for ioyous court excbaunge,

I hid my selfe from it, as one affeard; Emongst tbine equall peres, where happy blis

But, when I other knew, my self I boldly reard. And all delight does raigne much more than this? There thou maist love, and dearly loved be,

“ But now, for feare of worse that may betide, And swim in pleasure, which thou here doest mis;

Let us soone hence depart.” They soone agree: There maist thou best be seene, and best maist see:

So to his steed he gott, and gan to ride The wood is fit for beasts, the court is fitt for thee.”

As one unfitt therefore, that all might see

He had not trayned bene in chevalree. " Whoso in pompe of prowd estate," quoth she,

Which well that valiaunt courser did discerne; “ Does swim, and bathes bimselfe in courtly blis,

For he despisd to tread in dew degree, Does waste his dalies in darke obscuritee,

But chaufd and fom'd with corage fiers and sterne, And in oblivion ever buried is:

And to be easd of that base burden still did erne. Where ease abownds, yt 's,eath to doe amis : But who his limbs with labours, and his mynd Bebaves with cares, cannot so easy mis. Abroad in armes, at home in studious kynd, Who seekes with painfull toile, shall Honor soonest

fynd:

And sure he was a man of mickle might,
CANTO IV.

Had he bad governaunce it well to guyde:

But, when the frantick fitt inflamd his spright, Guyon does Furor bind in chaines,

His force was vaine, and strooke more often wyde And stops Occasion :

Then at the aymed marke which he had eyde: Delivers Phaon, and therefore

And oft himselfe he chaunst to hurt unwares, By Strife is rayld uppon.

Wbylest reason, blent through passion, nought des

But, as a blindfold bull, at random fares, (eryde ; Is brave poursuitt of honorable deed,

And where he hits nought knowes, and whom he There is I know not what great difference

hurts pought cares. Betweene the vulgar and the noble seed, Which onto things of valorous pretence

His rude assault and rugged handeling Seemes to be borne by native influence;

Straunge seemed to the knight, that aye with foe As feates of armes; and lore to entertaine: In fayre defence and goodly menaging But chiefly skill to ride seemes a science

Of armes was wont to fight: yet nathëmoe Proper to gentle blood : some others faine

Was he abashed now, not fighting so; To menage steeds, as did this vaunter ; but in But, more enfierced through his currish play, Faine.

Hinn sternly grypt, and, hailing to and fro,

To overthrow him strongly did assay, But he, the rightfull owner of that steede, But overthrew himselfe unwares, and lower lay: Who well could menage and subdew his pride, The whiles on foot was forced for to yeed

And being downe the villein sore did beate With that blacke palmer, his most trusty guide, And bruze with clownish fistes his manly face: Who suffred not his wandring feete to slide; And eke the hag, with many a bitter threat, But when strong passion, or weake fleshlinesse, Still cald upon to kill him in the place. Would from the right way seeke to draw him wide, with whose reproch, and odious menace, He would, through temperaunce and stedfastnesse, The knight emboyling in his haughtie hart Teach him the weak to strengthen, and the strong Knitt all his forces, and gan soone unbrace suppresse.

His grasping hold: so lightly did upstart,

And drew his deadly weapon to maintaine his parta it fortuned, forth faring on his way, He saw from far, or seemed for to see,

Which when the palmer saw, he loudly cryde, Some troublous uprore or contentious fray, “ Not so, O Guyon, never thinke that so Wbereto be drew in hast it to agree.

That monster can be maistred or destroyd : A mad man, or that feigned mad to bee,

He is not, ah! he is not such a foe, Drew by the heare along upon the grownd

As steele can wound, or strength can overthroe. A handsom stripling with great crueltee,

That same is Furor, cursed cruel wight, Whom sore be bett, and gor'd with many a wownd, That unto knighthood workes much shame and woes That cheekes with teares, and sydes with blood, did And that same hag, his aged mother, hight all abownd.

Occasion ; the roote of all wrath and despight. And him behynd a wicked hag did stalke,

“ With her, whoso will raging Furor tame, In ragged robes and filthy disaray;

Must first begin, and well her amenage : Her other leg was lame, that she no'te walke, First her restraine from her reprochfull blame But on a staffe her feeble steps did stay :

And evill meanes, with which she doth enrage Her lockes, that loatbly were and hoarie gray, Her frantick sonne, and kindles his corage; Grew all afore, and loosly hong unrold;

Then, when she is withdrawne or strong withstood, But all behinde was bald, and worne away, It 's eath his ydle fury to aswage, That none thereof could ever taken hold;

And calm the tempest of his passion wood: And eke her face ill-favour'l, full of wrinckles old. The bankes are overflowne when stopped is the flood." And, ever as she went, her toung did walke Therewith sir Guyon left his first emprise, I fowle reproch and termes of vile despight, And, turning to that woman, fast her hent Provoking him, by her outrageous talke,

By the hoare lockes that hong before her eyes, To heape more vengeance on that wretched wight: | And to the ground her threw: yet n'ould she stent Sometimes she raught him stones, wherwith to smite; Her bitter rayling and foule révilement; Sometimes her staffe, though it her one leg were, But still provokt her sonne to wreake her wrong: Withouten which she could not goe upright; But nathëlesse he did her still torment, Ne any evil meanes she did forbeare, (reare. And, catching hold of her ungratious tong, That might him move to wrath, and indignation Thereon an yron lock did fasten firme and strong. The noble Guyon, mov'd with great remorse, Then, whenas use of speach was from her rest, Approching, first the hag did thrust away; With her two crooked handes she signes did make, And after, adding more impetuous forse,

And beckned him; the last help she had left: His mighty hands did on the madman lay, But he that last left helpe away did take, And pluckt him backe; who, all on fire streightway, And both her handes fast bound unto a stake, Against him turning all his fell intent,

That she no'te stirre. Then gan her sonne to Aye With beastly brutish rage gan him assay,

Full fast away, and did her quite forsake:
And smott, and bitt, and kickt, and scratcht, and rent, But Guyon after him in hast did hye,
And did he wist not what in his avengëment. And soone him overtookc in sad perplexitye.

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