Then said _Cymochles_; Palmer, thou doest dote, xiv Ne canst of prowesse, ne of knighthood deeme, Saue as thou seest or hearst. But well I wote, That of his puissance tryall made extreeme; Yet gold all is not, that doth golden seeme, Ne all good knights, that shake well speare and shield: The worth of all men by their end esteeme, And then due praise, or due reproch them yield; Bad therefore I him deeme, that thus lies dead on field. Good or bad (gan his brother fierce reply) xv What doe I recke, sith that he dyde entire? Or what doth his bad death now satisfy The greedy hunger of reuenging ire, Sith wrathfull hand wrought not her owne desire? Yet since no way is left to wreake my spight, I will him reaue of armes, the victors hire, And of that shield, more worthy of good knight; For why should a dead dog be deckt in armour bright? Faire Sir, said then the Palmer suppliaunt, xvi For knighthoods loue, do not so foule a deed, Ne blame your honour with so shamefull vaunt Of vile reuenge. To spoile the dead of weed Is sacrilege, and doth all sinnes exceed; But leaue these relicks of his liuing might, To decke his herce, and trap his tomb-blacke steed. What herce or steed (said he) should he haue dight, But be entombed in the rauen or the kight? With that, rude hand vpon his shield he laid, xvii And th’other brother gan his helme vnlace, Both fiercely bent to haue him disaraid; Till that they spide, where towards them did pace An armed knight, of bold and bounteous grace, Whose squire bore after him an heben launce, And couerd shield. Well kend him so farre space Th’enchaunter by his armes and amenaunce, When vnder him he saw his Lybian steed to praunce. And to those brethren said, Rise rise by liue, xviii And vnto battell doe your selues addresse; For yonder comes the prowest knight aliue, Prince _Arthur_, flowre of grace and nobilesse, That hath to Paynim knights wrought great distresse, And thousand Sar’zins foully donne to dye. That word so deepe did in their harts impresse, That both eftsoones vpstarted furiously, And gan themselues prepare to battell greedily. But fierce _Pyrochles_, lacking his owne sword, xix The want thereof now greatly gan to plaine, And _Archimage_ besought, him that afford, Which he had brought for _Braggadocchio_ vaine. So would I (said th’enchaunter) glad and faine Beteeme to you this[696] sword, you to defend, Or ought that else your honour might maintaine, But that this weapons powre I well haue kend, To be contrarie to the worke, which ye intend.