20 For that same knights owne sword this is of yore, Which Merlin made by his almightie art

For this his noursling, when he knighthood swore, Therewith to doen his foes eternall smart. The metall first he mixt with Medaewart, That no enchauntment from his dint might save; Then it in flames of Aetna wrought apart, And seven times dipped in the bitter wave Of hellish Styx, which hidden vertue to it gave.

21 The vertue is, that neither steele nor stone The stroke thereof from entrance may defend; Ne ever may be used by his fone;

Ne forst his rightfull owner to offend; Ne ever will it breake, ne ever bend. Wherefore Morddure it rightfully is hight. In vaine therefore, Pyrochles, should I lend The same to thee, against his lord to fight; For sure it would deceive thy labour and thy might.

22 Foolish old man, said then the Pagan wroth,

That weenest words or charms may force withstond: Soone shalt thou see, and then beleeve for troth, That I can carve with this inchaunted brond His lords owne flesh. Therewith out of his hond That vertuous steele he rudely snatcht away; And Guyons shield about his wrest he bond: So readie dight, fierce battaile to assaye, And match his brother proud in battailous aray.

23 By this that straunger knight in presence came,
And goodly salved them; who nought againe
Him answered, as courtesie became,

But with sterne lookes, and stomachous disdaine,
Gave signes of grudge and discontentment vaine :
Then turning to the palmer, he gan spy
Where at his feet, with sorrowful demaine
And deadly hew, an armed corse did lye,
In whose dead face he red great magnanimity.

24 Said he then to the palmer; Reverend syre,
What great misfortune hath betidd this knight?
Or did his life her fatall date expyre,

Or did he fall by treason, or by fight?
However, sure I rew his pitteous plight.
Not one, nor other, (sayd the palmer grave)
Hath him befalne, but cloudes of deadly night
Awhile his heavie eylids cover'd have,

And all his senses drowned in deep senselesse wave:

25 Which those same cruell foes, that stand hereby,
Making advantage, to revenge their spight,
Would him disarme and treaten shamefully;
Unworthy usage of redoubted knight.

But you, faire sir, whose honourable sight
Doth promise hope of helpe, and timely grace,
Mote I beseech to succour his sad plight,

And by your powre protect his feeble cace.
First praise of knighthood is, foule outrage to deface.

26 Palmer, (said he) no knight so rude, I weene,
As to doen outrage to a sleeping ghost:
Ne was there ever noble courage seene,
That in advauntage would his puissance bost:
Honour is least, where oddes appeareth most.
May be, that better reason will aswage

The rash revengers heat. Words well dispost
Have secret powre t' appease inflamed rage:
If not, leave unto me thy knights last patronage.

27 Tho turning to those brethren, thus bespoke,
Ye warlike payre, whose valorous great might,
It seemes, just wrongs to vengeance doe provoke,
To wreake your wrath on this dead seeming knight,
Mote ought allay the storme of your despight,
And settle patience in so furious heat?

Not to debate the chalenge of your right,
But for his carkasse pardon I entreat,

Whom fortune hath alreadie laid in lowest seat.

28 To whom Cymochles said; For what art thou,
That mak'st thyselfe his dayes-man, to prolong
The vengeance prest? Or who shall let me now
On this vile body from to wreake my wrong,
And make his carkasse as the outcast dong?
Why should not that dead carrion satisfię
The guilt, which, if he lived had thus long,
His life for due revenge should deare abie?
The trespasse still doth live, albe the person die.
29 Indeed (then said the prince) the evill donne
Dyes not, when breath the bodie first doth leave,
But from the grandsyre to the nephewes sonne,
And all his seed the curse doth often cleave,
Till vengeance utterly the guilt bereave:

So streightly God doth judge. But gentle knight,
That doth against the dead his hand upreare,
His honour staines with rancour and despight,
And great disparagment makes to his former might.

30 Pyrochles gan reply the second tyme,

And to him said, Now felon sure I read,
How that thou art partaker of his crime:
Therefore by Termagaunt thou shalt be dead.
With that his hand, more sad than lomp of lead,
Uplifting high, he weened with Morddure,

His owne good sword Morddure, to cleave his head.
The faithfull steele such treason no'uld endure,
But swarving from the marke, his lords life did assure.

31 Yet was the force so furious and so fell,

That horse and man it made to reele aside:
Nath'lesse the prince would not forsake his sell;
For well of yore he learned had to ride,
But full of anger fiercely to him cride;
False traitour miscreant, thou broken hast

The law of armes, to strike foe undefide;

But thou thy treasons fruit, I hope, shalt taste

Right sowre, and feele the law, the which thou hast defast.

32 With that his balefull speare he fiercely bent
Against the Pagans brest, and therewith thought
His cursed life out of her lodge have rent:
But ere the point arrived where it ought,

That seven-fold shield, which he from Guyon brought,
He cast betwene to ward the bitter stound:

Through all those foldes the steelehead passage wrought, And through his shoulder pierst; wherwith to ground He groveling fell, all gored in his gushing wound.

33 Which when his brother saw, fraught with great griefe And wrath, he to him leaped furiously,

And fowly saide, By Mahoune, cursed thiefe,
That direfull stroke thou dearely shalt aby.
Then hurling up his harmefull blade on hye,
Smote him so hugely on his haughtie crest,
That from his saddle forced him to fly:

Else mote it needes downe to his manly brest
Have cleft his head in twaine, and life thence dispossest.

34 Now was the prince in daungerous distresse,

Wanting his sword, when he on foot should fight:
His single speare could doe him small redresse
Against two foes of so exceeding might,
The least of which was match for any knight.
And now the other, whom he earst did daunt,
Had reard himselfe againe to cruell fight,
Three times more furious and more puissaunt,
Unmindfull of his wound, of his fate ignoraunt.

35 So both attonce him charge on either side

With hideous strokes, and importable powre,
That forced him his ground to traverse wide,
And wisely watch to ward that deadly stowre:
For on his shield, as thicke as stormie showre,
Their strokes did raine; yet did he never quaile,
Ne backward shrinke; but as a stedfast towre,
Whom foe with double battry doth assaile,

Them on her bulwarke beares, and bids them nought availe.

36 So stoutly he withstood their strong assay; Till that at last, when he advantage spyde,

His poinant speare he thrust with puissant sway
At proud Cymochles, whiles his shield was wyde,
That through his thigh the mortall steele did gryde:
He, swarving with the force, within his flesh

Did breake the launce, and let the head abyde:
Out of the wound the red blood flowed fresh,
That underneath his feet soone made a purple plesh.

37 Horribly then he gan to rage, and rayle,

Cursing his gods, and him selfe damning deepe:
Als when his brother saw the red blood rayle
Adowne so fast, and all his armour steepe,
For very felnesse lowd he gan to weepe,
And said; Caytive, cursse on thy cruell hond,
That twise hath sped; yet shall it not thee keepe
From the third brunt of this my fatall brond:

Loe where the dreadfull Death behind thy backe doth stond.

38 With that he strooke, and th' other strooke withall, That nothing seem'd mote beare so monstrous might: The one upon his covered shield did fall,

And glauncing downe would not his owner byte:
But th' other did upon his troncheon smyte;
Which hewing quite a sunder, further way
It made, and on his hacqueton did lyte,
The which dividing with importune sway,

It seizd in his right side, and there the dint did stay.

39 Wyde was the wound, and a large lukewarme flood, Red as the rose, thence gushed grievously;

That when the Paynym spyde the streaming blood,
Gave him great hart, and hope of victory.

On th' other side, in huge perplexity

The prince now stood, having his weapon broke; Nought could he hurt, but still at warde did ly: Yet with his troncheon he so rudely stroke Cymochles twise, that twise him forst his foot revoke.