With that he strooke, and th’other strooke withall, xxxviii That nothing seem’d mote beare so monstrous might: The one vpon his couered shield did fall, And glauncing downe would not his owner byte: But th’other did vpon his troncheon smyte, Which hewing quite a sunder, further way It made, and on his hacqueton did lyte, The which diuiding with importune sway, It seizd in his right side, and there the dint did stay. Wyde was the wound, and a large lukewarme flood, xxxix Red as the Rose, thence gushed grieuously; That when the Paynim spyde the streaming blood, Gaue him great hart, and hope of victory. On th’other side, in huge perplexity, The Prince now stood, hauing his weapon broke; Nought could he hurt, but still at ward did ly: Yet with his troncheon he so rudely stroke _Cymochles_ twise, that twise him forst his foot reuoke. Whom when the Palmer saw in such distresse, xl Sir _Guyons_ sword he lightly to him raught, And said; Faire[708] Son, great God thy right hand blesse, To vse that sword so wisely as[709] it ought. Glad was the knight, and with fresh courage fraught, When as againe he armed felt his hond; Then like a Lion, which hath long time saught His robbed whelpes, and at the last them fond Emongst the shepheard swaynes, then wexeth wood and yond. So fierce he laid about him, and dealt blowes xli On either side, that neither mayle could hold, Ne shield defend the thunder of his throwes: Now to _Pyrochles_ many strokes he told; Eft to _Cymochles_ twise so many fold: Then backe againe turning his busie hond, Them both attonce compeld with courage bold, To yield wide way to his hart-thrilling brond; And though they both stood stiffe, yet could not both withstond. As saluage Bull, whom two fierce mastiues bayt, xlii When rancour doth with rage him once engore, Forgets with warie ward them to awayt, But with his dreadfull hornes them driues afore, Or flings aloft, or treads downe in the flore, Breathing out wrath, and bellowing disdaine, That all the forrest quakes to heare him rore: So rag’d Prince _Arthur_ twixt his foemen twaine, That neither could his mightie puissance sustaine. But euer at _Pyrochles_ when he smit, xliii Who _Guyons_ shield cast euer him before, Whereon the Faery Queenes pourtract was writ, His hand relented, and the stroke forbore, And his deare hart the picture gan adore, Which oft the Paynim sau’d from deadly stowre. But him henceforth the same can saue no more; For now arriued is his fatall howre, That no’te auoyded be by earthly skill or powre.