English poetry -- Early modern, 1500-1700; Knights and knighthood -- Poetry; Virtues -- Poetry
Who seeing him from farre so fierce to pricke, xxvi
His warlike armes about him gan embrace,
And in the rest his readie speare did sticke;
Tho when as still he saw him towards pace,
He gan rencounter him in equall race.
They bene ymet, both readie to affrap,
When suddenly that warriour gan abace
His threatned speare, as if some new mishap
Had him betidde[458], or hidden daunger did entrap.
And cryde, Mercie Sir knight, and mercie Lord, xxvii
For mine offence and heedlesse hardiment,
That had almost committed crime abhord,
And with reprochfull shame mine honour shent,
Whiles cursed steele against that badge I bent,
The sacred badge of my Redeemers death,
Which on your shield is set for ornament:
But his fierce foe his steede could stay vneath,
Who prickt with courage kene, did cruell battell breath.
But when he heard him speake, streight way he knew xxviii
His error, and himselfe inclyning sayd;
Ah deare Sir _Guyon_, well becommeth you,
But me behoueth rather to vpbrayd,
Whose hastie hand so farre from reason strayd,
That almost it did haynous violence
On that faire image of that heauenly Mayd,
That decks and armes your shield with faire defence:
Your court’sie takes on you anothers due offence.
So bene they both attone[459], and doen vpreare xxix
Their beuers bright, each other for to greete;
Goodly comportance each to other beare,
And entertaine themselues with court’sies meet.
Then said the _Redcrosse_ knight, Now mote I weet,
Sir _Guyon_, why with so fierce saliaunce,
And fell intent ye did at earst me meet;
For sith I know your goodly gouernaunce,
Great cause, I weene, you guided, or some vncouth chaunce.
Certes (said he) well mote I shame to tell xxx
The fond encheason, that me hither led.
A false infamous faitour late befell
Me for to meet, that seemed ill bested,
And playnd of grieuous outrage, which he red
A knight had wrought against a Ladie gent;
Which to auenge, he to this place me led,
Where you he made the marke of his intent,
And now is fled; foule shame him follow, where he went.
So can he turne his earnest vnto game, xxxi
Through goodly handling[460] and wise temperance.
By this his aged guide in presence came;
Who soone as on[461] that knight his eye did glance,
Eft soones of him had perfect cognizance,
Sith him in Faerie court he late auizd;
And said, Faire[462] sonne, God giue you happie chance,
And that deare Crosse vpon your shield deuizd,
Wherewith aboue all knights ye goodly seeme aguizd.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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