Palmer, (said he) no knight so rude, I weene, xxvi As to doen outrage to a sleeping ghost: Ne was there euer noble courage seene, That in aduauntage would his puissance bost: Honour is least, where oddes appeareth most. May be, that better reason will asswage[699] The rash reuengers heat. Words well dispost Haue secret powre, t’appease inflamed rage: If not, leaue vnto me thy knights last patronage[700]. Tho turning to those brethren, thus bespoke, xxvii Ye warlike payre, whose valorous great might It seemes, iust wrongs to vengeance doe[701] prouoke, To wreake your wrath on this dead seeming knight, Mote ought allay the storme of your despight, And settle patience in so furious heat? Not to debate the chalenge of your right, But for this carkasse pardon I entreat, Whom fortune hath alreadie laid in lowest seat. To whom _Cymochles_ said; For what art thou, xxviii That mak’st thy selfe his dayes-man, to prolong The vengeance prest? Or who shall let me now, On this vile bodie from to wreake my wrong, And make his carkasse as the outcast dong? Why should not that dead carrion satisfie The guilt, which if he liued had thus long, His life for due reuenge should deare abie? The trespasse still doth liue, albe the person die. Indeed (then said the Prince) the euill donne xxix Dyes not, when breath the bodie first doth leaue, But from the grandsyre to the Nephewes sonne, And all his seed the curse doth often cleaue, Till vengeance vtterly the guilt bereaue: So streightly God doth iudge. But gentle knight, That doth against the dead his hand vpreare[702], His honour staines with rancour and despight, And great disparagment makes to his former might. _Pyrochles_ gan reply the second time, xxx And to him said, Now felon sure I read, How that thou art partaker of his crime: Therefore by _Termagaunt_ thou shalt be dead. With that his hand, more sad then lomp of lead, Vplifting high, he weened with _Morddure_, His owne good sword _Morddure_, to cleaue his head. The faithfull steele such treason no’uld endure, But swaruing from the marke, his Lords life did assure. Yet was the force so furious and so fell, xxxi That horse and man it made to reele aside; Nath’lesse the Prince would not forsake his sell: For well of yore he learned had to ride, But full of anger fiercely to him cride; False traitour miscreant, thou broken hast The law of armes, to strike foe vndefide. But thou thy treasons fruit, I hope, shalt taste Right sowre, and feele the law, the which thou hast defast.