"Sonne," (said he then) "lett be{27} thy bitter scorne, And leave the rudenesse of that antique age To them that liv'd therein, in state forlorne: Thou, that doest live in later times, must wage{28} Thy workes for wealth, and life for gold engage. If then thee list my offred grace to use, Take what thou please of all this surplusage; If thee list not, leave have thou to refuse: But refused doe not afterward accuse." "Me list{29} not" (said the Elfin knight) "receave Thing offred, till I know it well be gott; Ne wote but thou didst these goods bereave From rightfull owner by unrighteous lott, Or that bloodguiltinesse or guile them blott." "Perdy,"{30} (quoth he) "yet never eie did vew, Ne tong did tell, ne hand these handled not; But safe I have them kept in secret mew From hevens sight, and powre of al which them poursew. "What secret place" (quoth he) "can safely hold So huge a masse, and hide from heaven's eie? Or where hast thou thy wonne,{31} that so much gold Thou canst preserve from wrong and robbery?" "Come thou," (quoth he) "and see." So by and by Through that thick covert he him led, and fownd A darkesome way, which no man could descry, That deep descended through the hollow grownd, And was with dread and horror compassed arownd. At length they came into a larger space, That stretcht itselfe into an ample playne; Through which a beaten broad high way did trace, That streight did lead to Plutoes griesly rayne.{32} By that wayes side there sate internall Payne, And fast beside him sat tumultuous Strife: The one in hand an yron whip did strayne, The other brandished a bloody knife; And both did gnash their teeth, and both did threten life. On thother side in one consort there sate Cruell Revenge, and rancorous Despight, Disloyall Treason, and hart-burning Hate; But gnawing Gealousy, out of their sight Sitting alone, his bitter lips did bight; And trembling Feare still to and fro did fly, And found no place wher safe he shroud him might: Lamenting Sorrow did in darknes lye, And Shame his ugly face did hide from living eye. And over them sad Horror with grim hew Did alwaies sore, beating his yron wings; And after him Owles and Night-ravens flew, The hatefull messengers of heavy things, Of death and dolor telling sad tidings, Whiles sad Celeno, sitting on a clifte, A song of bale and bitter sorrow sings, That hart of flint asonder could have rifte; Which having ended after him she flyeth swifte.