Cant. I.
the Faery Queene.
11
Then mounted he vpon his Steede againe,And with the Lady backward sought to wend;That path he kept, which beaten was most plaine,Ne euer would to any byway bend,But still did follow one vnto the end,The which at last out of the wood them brought.So forward on his way (with God to frend)He passed forth, and new aduenture sought,Long way he traueiled, before he heard of ought.
At length they chaunst to meet vpon the wayAn aged Sire, in long blacke weedes yclad,His feete all bare, his beard all hoarie gray,And by his belt his booke he hanging had;Sober he seemde, and very sagely sad,And to the ground his eyes were lowly bent,Simple in shew, and voide of malice bad,And all the way he prayed as he went,And often knockt his brest, as one that did repent.
He faire the knight saluted, louting low,Who faire him quited, as that courteous was:And after asked him, if he did knowOf straunge aduentures, which abroad did pas.Ah my deare Sonne (quoth he) how should, alas,Silly old man, that liues in hidden cell,Bidding his beades all day for his trespas,Tydings of warre and worldly trouble tell?With holy father sits not with such thinges to mell.
But if of daunger which hereby doth dwell,And homebred deuil ye desire to heare,Of a straunge man I can you tidings tell,That wasteth all this countrie farre and neare.
Of
