XXX
She was a woman in her freshest age,° Of wondrous beauty, and of bountie rare, With goodly grace and comely personage, That was on earth not easie to compare; 265 Full of great love, but Cupid's wanton snare As hell she hated, chast in worke and will; Her necke and breasts were ever open bare, That ay thereof her babes might sucke their fill; The rest was all in yellow robes arayed still. 270
XXXI
A multitude of babes about her hong, Playing their sports, that joyd her to behold, Whom still she fed, whiles they were weake and young, But thrust them forth still as they wexed old: And on her head she wore a tyre of gold, 275 Adornd with gemmes and owches wondrous faire, Whose passing price° uneath was to be told: And by her side there sate a gentle paire Of turtle doves, she sitting in an yvorie chaire.
XXXII
The knight and Una entring faire her greet, 280 And bid her joy of that her happie brood; Who them requites with court'sies seeming meet, And entertaines with friendly chearefull mood. Then Una her besought, to be so good As in her vertuous rules to schoole her knight, 285 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.
XXXIII
She was right joyous of her just request, And taking by the hand that Faeries sonne, 290 Gan him instruct in every good behest, Of love, and righteousnesse, and well to donne,° And wrath, and hatred warely to shonne, That drew on men Gods hatred and his wrath, And many soules in dolours had fordonne: 295 In which when him she well instructed hath, From thence to heaven she teacheth him the ready path.
XXXIV
Wherein his weaker wandring steps to guide, An auncient matrone she to her does call, Whose sober lookes her wisedome well descride: 300 Her name was Mercie, well knowne over all, To be both gratious, and eke liberall: To whom the carefull charge of him she gave, To lead aright, that he should never fall In all his wayes through this wide worldes wave, 305 That Mercy in the end his righteous soule might save.
XXXV
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, 310 That nothing might his ready passage stay: And ever when his feet encombred were, Or gan to shrinke, or from the right to stray, She held him fast, and firmely did upbeare, As carefull Nourse her child from falling oft does reare. 315
XXXVI
Eftsoones unto an holy Hospitall, That was fore by 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 dayes in doing godly thing: 320 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.
XXXVII
The first of them that eldest was, and best, 325 Of all the house had charge and governement, As Guardian and Steward of the rest: His office was to give entertainement And lodging, unto all that came, and went: Not unto such, as could him feast againe, 330 And double quite, for that he on them spent, But such, as want of harbour did constraine: Those for Gods sake his dewty was to entertaine.
XXXVIII
The second was as Almner of the place, His office was, the hungry for to feed, 335 And thristy give to drinke, a worke of grace: He feard not once him selfe 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; 340 He had enough, what need him care for more? And had he lesse, yet some he would give to the pore.
XXXIX
The third had of their wardrobe custodie, In which were not rich tyres, nor garments gay, The plumes of pride, and wings of vanitie, 345 But clothes meet to keepe keene could away, And naked nature seemely to aray; With which bare wretched wights he dayly clad, The images of God in earthly clay; And if that no spare cloths to give he had, 350 His owne coate he would cut, and it distribute glad.
XL
The fourth appointed by his office was, Poore prisoners to relieve with gratious ayd, And captives to redeeme with price of bras,° From Turkes° and Sarazins, which them had stayd, 355 And though they faultie were, yet well he wayd, That God to us forgiveth every howre Much more then that why they in bands were layd, And he that harrowd° hell with heavie stowre, The faultie soules from thence brought to his heavenly bowre. 360
XLI
The fift had charge sicke persons to attend, And comfort those, in point of death which lay; For them most needeth comfort in the end, When sin, and hell, and death do most dismay The feeble soule departing hence away. 365 All is but lost, that living we bestow, If not well ended at our dying day. O man have mind of that last bitter throw For as the tree does fall, so lyes it ever low.
XLII
The sixt had charge of them now being dead, 370 In seemely sort their corses to engrave, And deck with dainty flowres their bridall bed, That to their heavenly spouse both sweet and brave They might appeare, when he their soules shall save.° The wondrous workmanship of Gods owne mould, 375 Whose face he made all beasts to feare, and gave All in his hand, even dead we honour should. Ah dearest God me graunt, I dead be not defould.°
XLIII
The seventh, now after death and buriall done, Had charge the tender orphans of the dead 380 And widowes ayd,° least they should be undone: In face of judgement° he their right would plead, Ne ought the powre of mighty men did dread In their defence, nor would for gold or fee Be wonne their rightfull causes downe to tread: 385 And, when they stood in most necessitee, He did supply their want, and gave them ever free.
XLIV
There when the Elfin knight arrived was, The first and chiefest of the seven, whose care Was guests to welcome, towardes him did pas: 390 Where seeing Mercie, that his steps upbare, And alwayes led, to her with reverence rare He humbly louted in meeke lowlinesse, And seemely welcome for her did prepare: For of their order she was Patronesse, 395 Albe Charissa were their chiefest founderesse.
XLV
There she awhile him stayes, him selfe to rest, That to the rest more able he might bee: During which time, in every good behest And godly worke of almes and charitee, 400 She him instructed with great industree; Shortly therein so perfect he became, That from the first unto the last degree, His mortall life he learned had to frame In holy righteousnesse, without rebuke or blame. 405
XLVI
Thence forward by that painfull way they pas, Forth to an hill, that was both steepe and hy; On top whereof a sacred chappell was, And eke a little Hermitage thereby, Wherein an aged holy man did lye, 410 That day and night said his devotion, Ne other worldly busines did apply; His name was heavenly Contemplation; Of God and goodnesse was his meditation.
XLVII
Great grace that old man to him given had; 415 For God he often saw from heavens hight, All were his earthly eyen both blunt and bad, And through great age had lost their kindly sight, Yet wondrous quick and persant was his spright, As Eagles eye, that can behold the Sunne: 420 That hill they scale with all their powre and might, That his° fraile thighes nigh weary and fordonne Gan faile, but by her° helpe the top at last he wonne.
XLVIII
There they do finde that godly aged Sire, With snowy lockes adowne his shoulders shed, 425 As hoarie frost with spangles doth attire The mossy braunches of an Oke halfe ded. Each bone might through his body well be red, And every sinew seene through his long fast: For nought he car'd° his carcas long unfed; 430 His mind was full of spirituall repast, And pyn'd his flesh, to keepe his body low and chast.