His answere likewise was, he could not tell. xxxiv Whose sencelesse speach, and doted ignorance When as the noble Prince had marked well, He ghest his nature by his countenance, And calmd his wrath with goodly temperance. Then to him stepping, from his arme did reach Those keyes, and made himselfe free enterance. Each dore he opened without any breach; There was no barre to stop, nor foe him to empeach. There all within full rich arayd he found, xxxv With royall arras and resplendent gold. And did with store of euery thing abound, That greatest Princes presence might behold. But all the floore (too filthy to be told) With bloud of guiltlesse babes, and innocents trew, Which there were slaine, as sheepe out of the fold, Defiled was, that dreadfull was to vew, And sacred ashes ouer it was strowed new. And there beside of marble stone was built xxxvi An Altare, caru’d with cunning imagery, On which true Christians bloud was often spilt, And holy Martyrs often doen to dye, With cruell malice and strong tyranny: Whose blessed sprites from vnderneath the stone To God for vengeance cryde continually, And with great griefe were often heard to grone, That hardest heart would bleede, to heare their piteous mone. Through euery rowme he sought, and euery bowr, xxxvii But no where could he find that wofull thrall: At last he came vnto an yron doore, That fast was lockt, but key found not at all Emongst that bounch, to open it withall; But in the same a little grate was pight, Through which he sent his voyce, and lowd did call With all his powre, to weet, if liuing wight Were housed therewithin, whom he enlargen might. Therewith an hollow, dreary, murmuring voyce xxxviii These piteous plaints and dolours did resound; O who is that, which brings me happy choyce Of death, that here lye dying euery stound, Yet liue perforce in balefull darkenesse bound? For now three Moones haue changed thrice their hew, And haue beene thrice hid vnderneath the ground, Since I the heauens chearefull face did vew, O welcome thou, that doest of death bring tydings trew. Which when that Champion heard, with percing point xxxix Of pitty deare his hart was thrilled sore, And trembling horrour ran through euery ioynt, For ruth of gentle knight so fowle forlore: Which shaking off, he rent that yron dore, With furious force, and indignation fell; Where entred in, his foot could find no flore, But all a deepe descent, as darke as hell, That breathed euer forth a filthie banefull smell.