Cant. I.
the Faery Queene.
13
Arriued there the litle house they fill,Ne looke for entertainement, where none was.Rest is their feast, and all thinges at their will;The noblest mind the best contentment has.With faire discourse the euening so they pas:For that olde man of pleasing wordes had store,And well could file his tongue as smooth as glas,He told of Saintes and Popes, and euermoreHe strowd an Aue-Mary after and before.
The drouping Night thus creepeth on them fast,And the sad humor loading their eye liddes,As messenger of Morpheus on them castSweet slōbring deaw, the which to sleep them biddes:Vnto their lodgings then his guestes he riddes:Where when all drownd in deadly sleepe he findes,He to his studie goes, and there amiddesHis magick bookes and artes of sundrie kindes,He seekes out mighty charmes, to trouble sleepy minds.
Then choosing out few words most horrible,(Let none them read) thereof did verses frame,With which and other spelles like terrible,He bad awake blacke Plutoes griesly Dame,And cursed heuen, and spake reprochful shameOf highest God, the Lord of life and light,A bold bad man, that dar'd to call by nameGreat Gorgon, prince of darknes and dead night,At which Cocytus quakes and Styx is put to flight.
And forth he cald out of deepe darknes dreddLegions of Sprights, the which like litle flyesFluttring about his euerdamned hedd,A waite whereto their seruice he applyes,
To
