Sonne (said he then) let be thy bitter scorne, xviii And leaue the rudenesse of that[662] antique age To them, that liu’d therein in state forlorne; Thou that doest liue in later times, must wage Thy workes for wealth, and life for gold engage. If then thee list my offred grace to vse, Take what thou please of all this surplusage; If thee list not, leaue haue thou to refuse: But thing refused, do not afterward accuse. Me list not (said the Elfin knight) receaue xix Thing offred, till I know it well be got, Ne wote I, but thou didst these goods bereaue From rightfull owner by vnrighteous lot, Or that bloud guiltinesse[663] or guile them blot. Perdy (quoth he) yet neuer eye did vew, Ne toung did tell, ne hand these handled not, But safe I haue them kept in secret mew, From heauens sight, and powre of all which them pursew. What secret place (quoth he) can safely hold xx So huge a masse, and hide from heauens eye? Or where hast thou thy wonne, that so much gold Thou canst preserue from wrong and robbery? Come thou (quoth he) and see. So by and by Through that thicke couert he him led, and found A darkesome way, which no man could descry, That deepe descended through the hollow ground, And was with dread and horrour compassed around. At length they came into a larger space, xxi That stretcht it selfe into an ample plaine, Through which a beaten broad high way did trace, That streight did lead to _Plutoes_ griesly raine: By that wayes side, there sate infernall[664] Payne, And fast beside him sat tumultuous Strife: The one in hand an yron whip did straine, The other brandished a bloudy knife, And both did gnash their teeth, and both did threaten life. On thother side in one consort there sate, xxii Cruell Reuenge, and rancorous Despight, Disloyall Treason, and hart-burning Hate, But gnawing Gealosie out of their sight Sitting alone, his bitter lips did bight, And trembling Feare still to and fro did fly, And found no place, where safe he shroud him might, Lamenting Sorrow did in darknesse lye, And Shame his vgly face did hide from liuing eye. And ouer them sad Horrour[665] with grim hew, xxiii Did alwayes sore, beating his yron wings; And after him Owles and Night-rauens flew, The hatefull messengers of heauy things, Of death and dolour telling sad tidings; Whiles sad _Celeno_, sitting on a clift, A song of bale and bitter sorrow sings, That hart of flint a sunder could haue rift: Which hauing ended, after him she flyeth swift.