And when she list poure out her larger spright, xx She would commaund the hastie Sunne to stay, Or backward turne his course from heauens hight; Sometimes great hostes of men she could dismay, Dry-shod to passe, she parts the flouds in tway;[332] And eke huge mountaines from their natiue seat She would commaund, themselues to beare away, And throw in raging sea with roaring threat. Almightie God her gaue such powre, and puissance great. The faithfull knight now grew in litle space, xxi By hearing her, and by her sisters lore, To such perfection of all heauenly grace, That wretched world he gan for to abhore, And mortall life gan loath, as thing forlore, Greeu’d with remembrance of his wicked wayes, And prickt with anguish of his sinnes so sore, That he desirde[333] to end his wretched dayes: So much the dart of sinfull guilt the soule dismayes. But wise _Speranza_ gaue him comfort sweet, xxii And taught him how to take assured hold Vpon her siluer anchor, as was meet; Else had his sinnes so great, and manifold Made him forget all that _Fidelia_ told. In this distressed doubtfull agonie, When him his dearest _Vna_ did behold, Disdeining life, desiring leaue to die, She found her selfe assayld with great perplexitie. And came to _Cœlia_ to declare her smart, xxiii Who well acquainted with that commune plight, Which sinfull horror workes in wounded hart, Her wisely comforted all that she might, With goodly counsell and aduisement right; And streightway sent with carefull diligence, To fetch a Leach, the which had great insight In that disease of grieued conscience, And well could cure the same; His name was _Patience_. Who comming to that soule-diseased knight, xxiv Could hardly him intreat, to tell his griefe: Which knowne, and all that noyd his heauie spright[334] Well searcht, eftsoones he gan apply reliefe[335] Of salues and med’cines, which had passing priefe, And thereto added words of wondrous might: By which to ease he him recured briefe, And much asswag’d the passion of his plight, That he his paine endur’d, as seeming now more light. But yet the cause and root of all his ill, xxv Inward corruption, and infected sin, Not purg’d nor heald, behind remained still, And festring sore did rankle yet within, Close creeping twixt the marrow and the skin. Which to extirpe, he laid him priuily Downe in a darkesome lowly place farre in, Whereas he meant his corrosiues to apply, And with streight[336] diet tame his stubborne malady.