But th’vpper halfe their hew retained still,
And their sweet skill in wonted melody;
Which euer after they abusd to ill,
T’allure weake trauellers, whom gotten they did kill.
So now to Guyon, as he passed by, xxxii
Their pleasaunt tunes they sweetly thus applide;
O thou faire sonne of gentle Faery,
That[842] art in mighty armes most magnifide
Aboue all knights, that euer battell tride,
O turne thy rudder hither-ward a while: