Wroth wext he then, and sayd, that words were light, xlv Ne would within his ballaunce well abide. But he could iustly weigh the wrong or right. Well then, sayd _Artegall_, let it be tride. First in one ballance set the true aside. He did so first; and then the false he layd In th’other scale; but still it downe did slide, And by no meane could in the weight be stayd. For by no meanes the false will with the truth be wayd. Now take the right likewise, sayd _Artegall_, xlvi And counterpeise the same with so much wrong. So first the right he put into one scale; And then the Gyant stroue with puissance strong To fill the other scale with so much wrong. But all the wrongs that he therein could lay, Might not it peise; yet did he labour long, And swat, and chauf’d, and proued euery way: Yet all the wrongs could not a litle right downe way[265]. Which when he saw, he greatly grew in rage, xlvii And almost would his balances haue broken: But _Artegall_ him fairely gan asswage, And said; Be[266] not vpon thy balance wroken: For they doe nought but right or wrong betoken; But in the mind the doome of right must bee; And so likewise of words, the which be spoken, The eare must be the ballance, to decree And iudge, whether with truth or falshood they agree. But set the truth and set the right aside, xlviii For they with wrong or falshood will not fare; And put two wrongs together to be tride, Or else two falses, of each equall share; And then together doe them both compare. For truth is one, and right is euer one. So did he, and then plaine it did appeare, Whether of them the greater were attone. But right sate in the middest of the beame alone. But he the right from thence did thrust away, xlix For it was not the right, which he did seeke; But rather stroue extremities to way, Th’one to diminish, th’other for to eeke. For of the meane he greatly did misleeke. Whom when so lewdly minded _Talus_ found, Approching nigh vnto him cheeke by cheeke, He shouldered him from off the higher ground, And down the rock him throwing, in the sea him dround. Like as a ship, whom cruell tempest driues l Vpon a rocke with horrible dismay, Her shattered ribs in thousand peeces riues, And spoyling all her geares and goodly ray, Does make[267] her selfe misfortunes piteous pray. So downe the cliffe the wretched Gyant tumbled; His battred ballances in peeces lay, His timbered bones all broken rudely rumbled, So was the high aspyring with huge ruine humbled.