Which when I wretch, Not one word more she sayd lvi But breaking off[484] the end for want of breath, And slyding soft, as downe to sleepe her layd, And ended all her woe in quiet death. That seeing good Sir _Guyon_, could vneath From teares abstaine, for griefe his hart did grate, And from so heauie sight his head did wreath, Accusing fortune, and too cruell fate, Which plunged[485] had faire Ladie in so wretched state. Then turning to his[486] Palmer said, Old syre lvii Behold the image of mortalitie, And feeble nature cloth’d with fleshly tyre, When raging passion with fierce tyrannie Robs reason of her due regalitie, And makes it seruant to her basest part: The strong it weakens with infirmitie, And with bold furie armes the weakest hart; The strong through pleasure soonest falles, the weake through smart. But temperance (said he) with golden squire lviii Betwixt them both can measure out a meane, Neither to melt in pleasures whot[487] desire, Nor fry[488] in hartlesse griefe and dolefull teene. Thrise happie man, who fares them both atweene: But sith this wretched woman ouercome Of anguish, rather then of crime hath beene, Reserue her cause to her eternall doome, And in the meane vouchsafe her honorable toombe. Palmer (quoth he) death is an equall[489] doome lix To good and bad, the common Inne of rest; But after death the tryall is to come, When best shall be to them, that liued best: But both alike, when death hath both supprest, Religious reuerence doth buriall teene, Which who so wants, wants so much of his rest: For all so great shame after death I weene, As selfe to dyen bad, vnburied bad to beene. So both agree their bodies to engraue; lx The great earthes wombe they open to the sky, And with sad Cypresse seemely it embraue, Then couering with a clod their closed eye, They lay therein those corses tenderly, And bid them sleepe in euerlasting peace. But ere they did their vtmost obsequy, Sir _Guyon_ more affection to increace, Bynempt a sacred vow, which none should aye releace. The dead knights sword out of his sheath he drew, lxi With which he cut a locke of all their heare, Which medling with their bloud and earth, he threw Into the graue, and gan deuoutly sweare; Such and such euill God on _Guyon_ reare, And worse and worse young Orphane be thy paine, If I or thou dew vengeance doe forbeare, Till guiltie bloud her guerdon doe obtaine: So shedding many teares, they closd the earth againe. FOOTNOTES: [436] i 4 vnderstands, _1590 &c._ [437] 7 caytiue _1609_ [438] ii 7 natiues _1596_, _1609_