XLIX
Who when these two approaching he aspide, At their first presence grew agrieved sore, That forst him lay his heavenly thoughts aside; 435 And had he not that Dame respected more, Whom highly he did reverence and adore, He would not once have moved for the knight. They him saluted, standing far afore; Who well them greeting, humbly did requight, 440 And asked, to what end they clomb that tedious height.
L
What end (quoth she) should cause us take such paine, But that same end which every living wight Should make his marke, high heaven to attaine? Is not from hence the way, that leadeth right 445 To that most glorious house that glistreth bright With burning starres and everliving fire, Whereof the keyes are to thy hand behight By wise Fidelia? She doth thee require, To show it to his knight, according his desire. 450
LI
Thrise happy man, said then the father grave, Whose staggering steps thy steady hand doth lead, And shewes the way, his sinfull soule to save. Who better can the way to heaven aread, Then thou thy selfe, that was both borne and bred 455 In heavenly throne, where thousand Angels shine? Thou doest the prayers of the righteous sead Present before the majestie divine, And his avenging wrath to clemencie incline.
LII
Yet since thou bidst, thy pleasure shal be donne. 460 Then come thou man of earth, and see the way, That never yet was seene of Faeries sonne, That never leads the traveiler astray, But after labors long, and sad delay, Brings them to joyous rest and endlesse blis. 465 But first thou must a season fast and pray, Till from her bands the spright assoiled is, And have her strength recur'd from fraile infirmitis.
LIII
That donne, he leads him to the highest Mount; Such one as that same mighty man° of God, 470 That blood-red billowes° like a walled front On either side disparted with his rod, Till that his army dry-foot through them yod, Dwelt forty dayes upon; where writ in stone With bloudy letters by the hand of God, 475 The bitter doome of death and balefull mone He did receive, whiles flashing fire about him shone.
LIV
Or like that sacred hill,° whose head full hie, Adornd with fruitfull Olives all arownd, Is, as it were for endlesse memory 480 Of that deare Lord who oft thereon was fownd, For ever with a flowring girlond crownd: Or like that pleasaunt Mount,° that is for ay Through famous Poets verse each where renownd, On which the thrise three learned Ladies play 485 Their heavenly notes, and make full many a lovely lay.
LV
From thence, far off he unto him did shew A litle path, that was both steepe and long, Which to a goodly Citie° led his vew; Whose wals and towres were builded high and strong 490 Of perle and precious stone, that earthly tong Cannot describe, nor wit of man can tell; Too high a ditty for my simple song; The Citie of the great king hight it well, Wherein eternall peace and happinesse doth dwell. 495
LVI
As he thereon stood gazing, he might see The blessed Angels to and fro descend From highest heaven in gladsome companee, And with great joy into that Citie wend, As commonly as friend does with his frend. 500 Whereat he wondred much, and gan enquere, What stately building durst so high extend Her loftie towres unto the starry sphere, And what unknowen nation there empeopled were.
LVII
Faire knight (quoth he) Hierusalem that is, 505 The new Hierusalem, that God has built For those to dwell in, that are chosen his, His chosen people purg'd from sinfull guilt With pretious blood, which cruelly was spilt On cursed tree, of that unspotted lam, 510 That for the sinnes of al the world was kilt: Now are they Saints all in that Citie sam, More dear unto their God then younglings to their dam.
LVIII
Till now, said then the knight, I weened well, That great Cleopolis,° where I have beene, 515 In which that fairest Faerie Queene doth dwell, The fairest citie was that might be seene; And that bright towre all built of christall cleene, Panthea,° seemd the brightest thing that was: But now by proofe all otherwise I weene; 520 For this great Citie that does far surpas, And this bright Angels towre quite dims that towre of glas.
LIX
Most trew, then said the holy aged man; Yet is Cleopolis, for earthly frame,° The fairest peece that eye beholden can; 525 And well beseemes all knights of noble name, That covett in th' immortall booke of fame To be eternized, that same to haunt, And doen their service to that soveraigne dame, That glorie does to them for guerdon graunt: 530 For she is heavenly borne, and heaven may justly vaunt.
LX
And thou faire ymp, sprong out from English race, How ever now accompted Elfins sonne, Well worthy doest thy service for her grace, To aide a virgin desolate fordonne. 535 But when thou famous victory hast wonne, And high emongst all knights hast hong thy shield, Thenceforth the suit of earthly conquest shonne, And wash thy hands from guilt of bloudy field: For blood can nought but sin, and wars but sorrowes yield. 540
LXI
Then seek this path, that I to thee presage, Which after all to heaven shall thee send; Then peaceably thy painefull pilgrimage To yonder same Hierusalem do bend, Where is for thee ordaind a blessed end: 545 For thou emongst those Saints, whom thou doest see, Shall be a Saint, and thine owne nations frend And Patrone: thou Saint George shalt called bee, Saint George° of mery England, the signe of victoree.
LXII
Unworthy wretch (quoth he) of so great grace,° 550 How dare I thinke such glory to attaine? These that have it attaind, were in like cace, (Quoth he) as wretched, and liv'd in like paine. But deeds of armes must I at last be faine And Ladies love to leave so dearely bought? 555 What need of armes, where peace doth ay remaine, (Said he,) and battailes none are to be fought? As for loose loves, they're vain, and vanish into nought.
LXIII
O let me not (quoth he) then turne againe Backe to the world, whose joyes so fruitlesse are; 560 But let me here for aye in peace remaine, Or streight way on that last long voyage fare, That nothing may my present hope empare. That may not be, (said he) ne maist thou yit Forgo that royall maides bequeathed care,° 565 Who did her cause into thy hand commit, Till from her cursed foe thou have her freely quit.
LXIV
Then shall I soone (quoth he) so God me grace, Abet that virgins cause disconsolate, And shortly backe returne unto this place, 570 To walke this way in Pilgrims poore estate. But now aread, old father, why of late Didst thou behight me borne of English blood, Whom all a Faeries sonne doen nominate? That word shall I (said he) avouchen good, 575 Sith to thee is unknowne the cradle of thy blood.
LXV
For well I wote thou springst from ancient race Of Saxon kings, that have with mightie hand And many bloody battailes° fought in place High reard their royall throne in Britane land, 580 And vanquisht them, unable to withstand: From thence a Faerie thee unweeting reft, There as thou slepst in tender swadling band, And her base Elfin brood there for thee left. Such men do Chaungelings° call, so chang'd by Faeries theft. 585
LXVI
Thence she thee brought into this Faerie lond, And in an heaped furrow did thee hyde, Where thee a Ploughman all unweeting fond, As he his toylesome teme that way did guyde, And brought thee up in ploughmans state to byde 590 Whereof Georgos° he gave thee to name; Till prickt with courage, and thy forces pryde, To Faerie court thou cam'st to seeke for fame, And prove thy puissaunt armes, as seemes thee best became.
LXVII
O holy Sire (quoth he) how shall I quight 595 The many favours I with thee have found, That hast my name and nation red aright, And taught the way that does to heaven bound? This said, adowne he looked to the ground, To have returnd, but dazed were his eyne 600 Through passing brightnesse, which did quite confound His feeble sence and too exceeding shyne. So darke are earthly things compard to things divine.