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<center>
//Guyon by Palmers gouernance,
passing through perils great,
Doth overthrow the Bowre of blisse,
and Acrasie defeat.//
-//The Faerie Queene//
[[Begin.->Preface]]
</center><center>@@.reveal;@@ You are Guyon, knight of @@<<click temperance>><<replace "#reveal">>
"The action or fact of tempering; mingling or combining in due proportion, adjusting, moderating, modification, toning down, bringing into a temperate or moderate state" or "Self-restraint and moderation in action of any kind, in the expression of opinion, etc.; suppression of any tendency to passionate action; in early use, esp. self-control, restraint, or forbearance, when provoked to anger or impatience" ("temperance").
Please be aware: This word is your key to the whole game. So write it down, man! Geeze.
<</replace>><</click>>@@.<span id="reveal"></span> You've been at sea for two days, all to travel to the Bower of Bliss. Your ultimate goal? To be as TEMPERATE as HUMANLY POSSIBLE and to take down the bower in doing so.
At this point you might be thinking "Bliss, huh? That place sounds downright bearable". I applaud your positivity. But before you get ahead of yourself you should maybe look around a little bit and remember that you're in a boat, on the ocean, and that the bower isn't anywhere near you. What is near you? Nothing scary. Just like a hundred traps or so.
As your eyes search the iron skyline the only indication that you're headed the right direction is the constant skiffing sound of the boteman's oars on the water. The Palmer beside you stares quietly out at two minute flecks in the distance. There seems to be something out there, something that unsettles the current of the water. As if to reaffirm your thoughts, your boat hits a series of particularly choppy waves.
This is not your first trial, and it's not supposed to be your last. You approach the horizon at a steady pace.
[[Go to the Gulf.|Gulf of Greedinesse and Rock of Reproch]]
[[*Note* Here is a cheat-link for grading. It takes you to a table-of-contents screen that links to passages that have branching decisions from them.|Contents Passage]]
</center>
body { background-image: url("http://www.funimages.com/images/happyLittleTree.png"); }
=><=
//Guyon by Palmers gouernance,
passing through perils great,
Doth overthrow the Bowre of blisse,
and Acrasie defeat.//
-//The Faerie Queene//
<=
Your [ballroom gown]<c1| is [bright red]<c2| with [silver streaks]<c3|,
and covered in [moonstones]<c4|.
(click: ?c1)[A hand-me-down from your great aunt.]
(click: ?c2)[A garish shade, to your reckoning.]
(click: ?c3)[Only their faint shine keeps them from being seen as grey.]
(click: ?c4)[Dreadfully heavy, they weigh you down and make dancing arduous.]
[Hork!]<shout|
(click: ?shout)[ (replace: ?shout)["Blast and damnation!"] ]
Notes to self: Possible "scale of temperance". A sliding scale of nine points. If you ever end up at -3, you get taken to a fail screen. If you get 6, you get taken to a fail screen. It helps to keep you temperate.
Consider using this for music code?:
<audio src="the URL of your sound effect" autoplay><center> @@.reveal;@@ As the features on the horizon become clearer you begin to make out a frenzied motion in the water, a churning and mashing of sorts that sends ripples radiating out in all directions. Some of them collide horribly against a rock, with only a narrow and dangerous trail between the two. Your swordsmenship won't help you unless you have the ability to chop down an entire @@<<click cliff>><<replace "#reveal1">>(Hint: You don't. You're Guyon, not Hercules.)<</replace>><</click>>@@. <span id="reveal1"></span> The only thing protecting you and the others in your boat is the armor on your back and quick wits.
Of course, being Guyon you also have the superpower of temperance to get you through this. It's helpful. Really. Don't worry about it.
As you approach you can hear the sound of the waves crashing before you see it, the great gulping chasm that opens like a mouth in the middle of the sea. It sucks \
@@<<click greedily>><<replace "#reveal2">>"Said then the Boteman, Palmer stere aright,
And keepe an euen course; for yonder way
We needes must passe (God do us well acquight,)
The is the //Gulfe of Greedinesse//, they say,
That deepe engorgeth all this worldes pray:
Which hauing swallowed vp excessively,
He soone in vomit vp againe doth lay,
And belcheth forth his superfluity,
That all the seas for feare do seeme away to fly"(2.12.3.1-9).<</replace>><</click>>@@\
at the hull of your boat, threatening to consume you.
<span id="reveal2"></span>
It's almost as if this gulf represents something more than a simple geological feature...
The object to your right, which from a distance had seemed considerably less threatening, now looms over you as dark and straight as a funeral veil. Judging from the carcasses of ships scattered around the bottom this @@<<click rock>><<replace "#reveal3">>
"On th'other side an hideoous Rocke is pight,
Of mightie //Magnes// stone, whose craggie clift
Depending on from high, dreadfull to sight,
Ouer the waues his rugged arms doth lift,
And threatneth downe to throw his ragged rift
On who so commeth nigh: yet nigh it drawes
All passengers, that none from it can shift:
For whiles they fly that Gulfes deuoring iawes,
They on this rock are rent, and sunck in helplesse wawes(2.12.4.1-9).
<</replace>><</click>>@@ catches anyone who gets too close. <span id="reveal3"></span> And yet there's a certain magnetic attraction to the place. No, seriously. It's made of magnetite. You could probably drop a coin in the water and it would be drawn right to it. However fun it might be to lose money like this, though, it only takes one look to warn you that it's a bad idea. Around the bottom of the cliff broken wood adheres to its surface, visual reminders of your mortality. This is what happens to people who steer clear of the gluttony, only to suffer the shame of becoming a different kind of waste.
You have no choice but to go through this trial. Think of it like a starting gate, only one that can kill you. It should be pretty obvious to you how you should pass through.
[[''Steer closer to the whirlpool. Better than being smashed onto a rock.''|Closer to the Gulf]]
[[''Steer closer to the rock. Better than the blatantly obvious trap on the other side.''|Rock of Reproach]]
[[Do your best to avoid them both, and try to go through the middle.|Past the Rock]]
</center>@@.reveal;@@<div style="text-align:right"> You decide to tell the boteman to err on the side of caution and avoid the rock decorated with crushed boats. Instead, in a particular stroke of genius, you tell him to get friendly with the other end of the extreme and scoot towards the giant death whirlpool. The silence he and the Palmer leave you in is probably just them holding their applause.
I mean seriously, why? Do you have a death wish? Or are you just surrendering in advance? @@<<click Look>><<replace "#reveal">>"Forward they passe, and strongly he them rowes,
Vntill they nigh vnto that Gulfe arriue,
Where streame more violent and greedy growes:
Then he with all his puissance doth striue
To strike his oares, and mightily doth driue
The hollow vessell through the threatfull waue,
Which gaping wide, to swallow them aliue,
In th' huge abysse of his engulfing graue,
Doth rore at them in vaine, and with great terror raue"(2.12.5.1-9).<</replace>><</click>>@@ at this thing. This thing is personified, okay? It's "his engulfing graue", and "he" is greedy. You're sure you're not the death wish knight?
This is your first trial, so maybe you forgot your goal? You're the knight of temperance. Is it temperate to be consumed by greediness? And if temperance were a direction would it really be a choice between left or right? Give it a minute. Let it sink in, instead of getting sunk. Temperance doesn't mean being perfect, but it also doesn't usually involve immediately getting yourself wrecked.
<span id="reveal"></span>
[[Reconsider the previous choices. ->Gulf of Greedinesse and Rock of Reproch]]
[[You choose to completely ignore all rationality and plunge yourself (and your poor traveling companions) into the hungry waters anyway.|Failstate Black]]</div>
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Hello
<center>Hello</center>
<div style="text-align:right">Hello</div>
<<autopopup “pop passage”>> @@.reveal;@@You tell the boteman to stay away from the gulf. So far away, in fact, that he'd be better off skirting the wreckage. Luckily the sound from the nearby gulf drowns out both him and the Palmer, or else they might have been able to explain what a terrible choice you just made.
Seriously bro. There has to be a part of your mind that was like, "hey, both of these things seem extremely dangerous. Maybe I shouldn't get near them." You know, the part you purposely ignored when you chose to move towards the rock? Not to mention overlooking the @@<<click wasted>><<replace "#reveal">>"For thy, this hight //The Rocke of// vile //Reproch//,
A daungerous and detestable place,
To which nor fish nor fowle did once approch,
But yelling Meawes, with Seagulles hoarse and bace,
And Cormoyrants, with birds of rauenous race,
Which still sate waiting on that wastfull clift,
For spoyle of wretches, whose vnhappie cace,
After lost credite and consumed thrift,
At last them driuen hath to this despairefull drift"(2.12.8.1-9).<</replace>><</click>>@@ ships and such all over the place. It's covered in the ocean-going equivalents of vultures, man. This is a place people are "driven" to, not something they voluntarily do, and it's only because they're out of "thrift." I don't know how any place could be more apparently the location of irresponsibility and lucklessness.
Plus death, you know. There's plenty of that here too.
<span id="reveal"></span>
[[Reconsider the previous choices.|Gulf of Greedinesse and Rock of Reproch]]
[[Throw caution to the wind and just drive into the thing anyway.|Failstate Black]] Okay. Yeah. That was clearly the wrong choice.
Temperance doesn't mean not making mistakes. In fact you might even argue with me that to be temperate you can't be perfectly right all the time, otherwise you would be the Knight of Perfect Answers. That's fine. In fact, in this game I pretty much invite you to explore your options for the most part.
But I'm going to punish you anway. Not because I'm vindictive (though that might be sort of credible), but because you got here either by choosing an extreme or worse, denying emotion or rationality. Try answering these questions:
1. Did you do something unreasonable for fun?
2. Did you do something unreasonable not for fun, accidentally, but still chose something nobody in real life would ever choose?
3. Did you use excessive force when you had more than one option?
4. Did you fall into temptation or desire? Did you stray?
Think of it like an exercise, if you will. Temperance is about not wavering from the right path, right? Not giving in to one side of yourself over another? So sometimes that requires patience.
This is all a nice way of saying YOU FAIL. Go back to the beginning and think about whatcha done, bro. You can try again after you reface all those lovingly crafted trials.
[[Start Over|Beginning]]<center>
@@.reveal;@@
You keep your peace as the boteman steers strongly between the two deadly traps, fighting hard to pass beyond the reach of the gulf. The roar fades, and the @@<<click Palmer>><<replace "#reveal">>
"The Palmer seeing them in safetie past,
Thus said; behold th'ensamples in our sights,
Of lustfull luxurie and thriftlesse wast:
Which spent their looser daies in lewd delights,
But shame and sad reproch, here to be red,
By these rent reliques, speaking their ill plights?
Let all that liue, hereby be counselled,
To shunne //Rock of Reproch//, and it as death to dred"(2.12.9.1-9).
<</replace>><</click>>@@ makes a comment about the tragedy you've successfully avoided. <span id="reveal"></span> As if you didn't already know, right? Sure you did.
The sea is calmer now, allowing you to enjoy for the first time the way bubbles and foam run along the oars as they rise out of the salty spray. The boteman continues at a steady pace, amazingly energized considering he just hauled you and your friend through half the ocean. There's still water spread out on every side, an unbroken panel of gray with the exception of a spattering of objects that have replaced the looming cliff and void on the horizon. What's before you now looks to be a series of islands, lush and dark as little tufts of moss in the distance.
[[Sail to the islands.|Wandering Islands Viewpoint]]
</center><center>Players,
This game was created with the idea of taking you through a virtual playthrough of Edmund Spenser's //The Faerie Queene//. Many of you might have never heard of it and because of this I've done my best to present it in an appealing way without taking from you the means to interpret the story for yourself. You'll find quotes from the source text for your own perusal, and quotes that are particularly good at explaining that which a narrator might not be best suited for.
If you feel yourself gravitating away from the small frame of reference that this game provides (it's only one canto from one book, after all), feel free to pick up the whole work sometime. The Penguin edition is currently $4.
For those that //have// read //The Faerie Queene//, I hope this game is at the very least enjoyable by allowing you to deviate from the main storyline, if only just a smidge. I've done my best to illuminate multiple ideas and themes in order to give repeat readers something new to think about.
Additionally, I do not expect you to play perfectly. In fact, there are some considerations that can't be discovered without choosing the wrong options. All failures lead back to the beginning, so I hope that encourages you to explore.
That's about all I've got! With this being said, [[enjoy your quest!|Beginning]]
P.S. This game contains audio. Please make sure your speakers are at a good level.</center> <center> @@.reveal;@@
You near a pleasant set of tiny islands adrift on the waves, each one dappled with emerald grasses and softly swaying trees. Every plant seems to be bedecked in welcoming flowers, their red and white petals standing out like gems amid the uniformity of the metallic ocean swells. After the last test nothing could seem as picturesque, hardly a trial but a vacation.
There's an attraction to this place not unlike the strange magnetic force of the Rock of Reproach, and yet they're not as scary. Your eyes @@<<click wander>><<replace "#reveal1">>
"That may not be, said then the //Ferryman//
Least we vnweeting hap to be fordonne:
For those same Islands, seeming now and than,
Are not firme lande, nor any certain wonne,
But straggling plots, which to and fro do ronne
In the wide waters: therefore are they hight
The //wandring Islands//. Therefore doe them shonne;
For they haue oft drawne many a wandering wight
Into most deadly daunger and distressed plight"(2.12.11.1-9).<</replace>><</click>>@@ over them as you imagine a little island vacation. A little pina colada, a bit of beach volleyball with your pal Wilson? Think about your job as a knight, how this journey is just going to be you proving yourself over and over. Before it gets out of hand you might as well take a rest now, on these quiet islands. There aren't any tests or battles on them. There is nothing there but a stagnant peace.
<span id="reveal1"></span>
You could take this route, you know. "Guyon Goes Hawaiian."
Then the know-it-all ferryman pipes up. He tries to @@<<click explain>><<replace "#reveal2">>
"Yet well they seeme to him, that farre doth vew,
Both faire and fruitfull, and the ground dispred
With grassie greene of delectable hew,
And the tall trees with leaves apparelled,
Are deckt with blossomes dyde in white and red,
That mote the passengers thereto allure;
But whosoeuer once hath fastened
His foot thereon, may neuer it recure,
But wandreth euer more vncertain and vnsure"(2.12.12.1-9).<</replace>><</click>>@@ that these aren't safe, ordinary islands. No, they're spooky islands that move around the ocean unpredictably. Once a man sets his foot down on them they move around, and he moves around, and he'll become lost....never to reappear again.
<span id="reveal2"></span>
It's a great campfire story and all, but lacks that obvious logic a real tale would have. If people become lost forever, how would the ferryman know unless he got lost himself? That doesn't make any sense. Campfire stories never make sense! So whether or not you let his advice temper your desire for that sweet, sweet beach day? That's up to you, bro. Just don't say he didn't warn you.
[[Forget about your quest and take a break on the islands.|Wandering Test]]
[[Ignore them and focus on your quest.|Phaedria]]
</center>You continue to abandon your friends, your quest, and your goals to chase the lush little isles. As you reach the shore and wander about on it a bit, it's true. It is uglier than you had expected. Much uglier. There's a heap of Taco Bell trash over here...
However, the next one over seems better. It's covered with flowering trees, with pastel grasses that bend cheekily in the island breezes. Something white bobs up and down for a moment. Was it a rabbit? A whole isle of fluffy little buddies, just for you? What a convenient way to ignore what you're supposed to be doing.
And hey, what's that over there? A bit further out is another island, one that looks even better! All you can see are trees but they're tall, colorful, they may even have fruit on them. You imagine climbing them, the feel of smooth bark under your hands and the crook that feels just right under your spine. If you go there maybe you can rest, and do nothing. Then do it again. Wake up, do more nothing. Prepare to do nothing later, so you're ready to not do anything. That's the life a knight should lead!
Which way do you go?
[[Back to the Boat|Back to the Boat]]
[[To the bunnies!|Bunny Island]]
[[Go climb yourself some trees, man.|Tree Island]] <center>@@.reveal;@@Taking the Palmer's advice into account you two move on, and he mentions that "For here the end of all our trauell is: / Here wonnes //Arcasia//, whome we must surprise, / Else she will slip away, and all our drift despise"(2.12.69.7-9). Be on your guard, player knight, because this is the hardest challenge.
Soon you hear a sound, a sound you cannot place. Not simple singing, nor the lilting sighs of nature, but "all that pleasing is to liuing eare, / Was there consorted in one harmonee, / Birdes, voyces, instruments, windes, waters, all agree"(2.12.70.7-9). It permeates the air soft as a spell, comprised of joyous brids, of angelic voices trained together, of silver instruments divinely responding, "With the base murmur of the waters fall: / The waters fall with difference discreet, / Now soft, now loud, vnto wind did call: / The gentle warbling wind low answered to all"(2.12.71.5-8).
At what seemed to be the origin point of this melody "was the faire Witch her selfe now solacing"(2.12.72.2). Arcasia, you finally meet. She bends over a man in her arms, a figure so young his beard is but a whisper on his chin, "And of inclinging downe with kisses light, / For feare of waking him, his lips bedewd, / And through his humid eyes did sucke his spright / Quite molten into lust and pleasure lewd"(2.12.73.5-8). After this reduction, this soul sucking lust instilled, she sighs as if for pity of him.
Someone begins to @@<<click sing>><<replace "#reveal">>
"Ah see, who so faire thing doest faine to see,
In springing flowre the image of they day;
Ah see the Virgin Rose, how sweetly shee
Doth first peepe forth with bashfull modestee,
That fairer seemes, the less ye see her may;
Lo see soone after, how more bold and free
Her bared bosome she doth broad display;
Loe see soone after, how she fades, and falles away.
So passeth, in the passing of a day,
Of mortall life the leaf, the bud, the flowre,
No more doth flourish after first decay,
That earst was sought to decke both bed and bowre,
Of many a Ladie, and many a Paramowre:
Gather therefore the Rose, whilest yet is prime,
For soone comes age, that will her pride deflowre:
Gather the Rose of loue, whilest yet is time,
Whilest louing thou mayst loued be with equall [[crime|Loverboy]]."(2.12.74-75)<</replace>><</click>>@@.<span id="reveal"></span></center> @@.reveal;@@Good job avoiding one she-beast, but how about five? Ahead you can hear the most beautiful melody, the sound of @@<<click mermaids>><<replace "#reveal">>
"They were faire Ladies, till they fondly striu'd
With th'//Heliconian// maides for maistery;
Of whom they ouer-comen, were depriu'd
Of hteir proud beautie, and th'one moyity
Transform'd to fish, for their bold surquedry,
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"(2.12.31.1-9).
<</replace>><</click>>@@ singing you softly toward their resting place on the rocks. As your ship nears them they sing louder and sweeter, calling you. It's the most beautiful thing you've heard since leaving, a lilting and gentle art.
<span id="reveal"></span>
Somewhat bewitched by their song, you ask to listen more closely by telling the ferryman to slow down. It's so lovely...you can almost make them out clearly, their womanly top halves and fishy nether-parts. Isn't that a picture? What a lovely and totally not-creepy race of creatures. They're so lovely, in fact, that you find yourself tempted, and the sound of the waves against the rocks couples with their voices. Nature and art @@<<click together>><<replace "#reveal2">>
"With that rolling sea resounding soft,
In his big base them fitly answered,
And on the rocke the waues breaking aloft,
A solemne Meane vnto them measured,
The whiles sweet //Zephirus// lowd whisteled
His treble, a straunge kinde of harmony;
Which //Guyons// senses softly tickeled,
That he the boateman bad row easily,
And let him heare some part of their rare melody"(2.12.33.1-9).
<</replace>><</click>>@@ lull you into moving closer.
<span id="reveal2"></span>
<<popup "Listen for awhile." "Palmer Stops">> <center>@@.reveal;@@The ferryman (who should really have a name, considering he's the one hauling you around this whole time) works his butt off to avoid both the quicksand and the whirlpool, and the only credit you get is that you didn't tell him to do otherwise. That's cool. I guess temperance is sometimes knowing when to stay out of the way, man.
You think everything is good and you start looking around for the next trap or, god willing, the actual island you've been searching for this whole time. Tell you what, though. You can actually just snuff that hope right out. Yeah, just snuff it out. Because you're not there yet. Instead, you get a tidal wave of monsters.
Remember, you're the knight of temperance. So it's only fitting you're going on a really long, really taxing trip. Temper that impatience of yours.
Anyway, back to the story. You read it right. A literal tidal wave, rising out of the ocean right before your eyes, but there was no earthquake, and there was no wind. Everything is still except for the swell of a spiteful sea. Be in awe, mortal, because you've taken this placid water for granted since the start of your journey, and it is a powerful foe. The REAL trap was one you had been in the whole time! Plot twisssssst! Ah ha ha. AH HA HA HA HA.
Oh yeah. Also there's like a hoarde of @@<<click monsters>><<replace "#reveal">>Most ugly shapes, and horrible aspects,
Such as Dame Nature selfe mote feare to see,
Or shame, that euer should so fowle defects
From her most cunning hand escaped bee;
All dreadfull pourtraicts of deformitee:
Spring-headed //Hydraes//, and sea-shouldering Whales,
Great whirlpooles, which all fishes make to flee,
Bright Scolopendraes, arm'd with siluer scales,
Mighty //Monoceros//, with immeasured tayles.
The dreadfull Fish, that hath deseru'd the name,
Of Death, and like him lookes in dreadfull hew,
The griesly Wasserman, that makes his game
The flying ships with swiftnesse to pursew,
The horrible Sea-satyre, that doth shew
His fearfull face in time of greatest storme,
Huge //Ziffius//, whom Mariners eschew
No lesse, then rockes (as trauellers informe,)
And greedy //Rosmarines// with visages deforme.
All these, and thousand thousands many more,
And more deformed Monsters thousand fold,
With dreadfull noise, and hollow rombling rore,
Came rushing in the fomy waues enrold,
Which seem'd to fly for feare, then to behold:
Ne wonder, if these did the knight appall;
For all that here on earth we dreadfull hold,
Be but as bugs to fearen babes withall,
Compared to the creatures in the seas entrall."(2.12.23-25)
<</replace>><</click>>@@ headed towards you. All the classics. We've got, you know...Death, the Wasserman which chases ships, some kind of hideous looking sea-satyre, and...whales. Whales are possibly the most terrible. I'm serious. That's like some Moby Dick stuff right there. Eat your leg off. This isn't Sea World, okay? This is a mythological nightmare.
<span id="reveal"></span>
And let's be up front about this, there are waaaaay too many for you to fight them all. If one of these things was a kraken, you'd be looking at like at least a hundred krakens. There's no way three dudes in a tiny boat are going to be able to get rid of the "thousand thousand" monsters. I mean, did you read that last sentence? By comparison the scariest movie you've ever seen is like a bug to a baby compared to this. A BUG, to a BABY. Game over, man. Game over.
You're appalled by them. Worse, you're sort of...worried about them. Don't think that a knight can't be worried! This challenge might be doable for you, but it looks like there might be a large cost. So what is a guy to do?
[[Panic!!!!!!!|Failstate Black]]
[[Fight! You're a virtuous knight, and you can never fail.|Failstate White]]
<<popup "Ask your friends for a life-line." "Palmer Interjects">> </center> <center>@@.reveal;@@You look around, and perhaps you aren't expecting the island of the Bower anymore. I can't blame you. Every time you get your hopes up, right? Only this time...you actually see it! That's the island, as lush and colorful as you ever could have dreamed! It was totally worth passing up those islands back there for this. Eyes looking ahead, you rejoice that this particular part of the journey is almost over, but begin to steele yourself for what is ahead....
Then a giant fog sweeps over everything. Easy come easy go?
You, the Palmer, and the ferryman are now lost in an impenetrable @@<<click chaos>><<replace "#reveal">>
"But him the Palmer from that vanity,
with temperate aduice discounselled,
That they it past, and shortly gan descry
The land, to which their course they leueled;
When suddeinly a grosse fog ouerspred
With his dull vapour all that desert has,
And heauens chearefull face enueloped,
That all things one, and one as nothing was,
And this great Vniuerse seemd one confused mas"(2.12.34.1-9).
<</replace>><</click>>@@. <span id="reveal"></span> Lesser company would probably panic, but not you three. You are well acquainted by now with the fact that order comes from disorder, and can go back again just as quickly. There are no triumphs if there are no traps, no temperance without intemperance, and no Star Wars without Darth Vader. But still, for all the good it does this fog is still daunting and dangerous. Each gentle tug of the current threatens to pull you astray. What's worse, you might fall into mischief by running up on something unseen. The one plus side is that this trap, unlike most of the rest, is quiet.
Suddenly you hear the worst screeching noise you've ever heard.
Hey man, do you like Alfred Hitchcock? He's pretty classic, right? Has a tendancy to take things that aren't scary and make them scary. Well, Spenser's pretty good at that too. By this I mean...have a bunch of birds. Just loads of them. Plus some bats, harpies, and something called a Stritch that's apparently like, flying death. There are hundreds of them, screeching and clawing and running into your sails, and with your blinded senses all you can make out is the clash of their beaks and the steady thump as they pound against the sails. It's a barrage of birds, a cacaphony of crows. A....harpy...of harpies.
Shut up. We can't all be winners, okay?
[[Keep going, despite the fog and feathers in your face.|Genius]]
[[OMG THIS IS SO LONG. JUST END THE GAME ALREADY.|Failstate Black]]</center> <center> @@.reveal;@@
As the boat passes by the islands a sound drifts across the idle waves. It's a familiar voice, melodious and carefree with just a hint of childishness. You know it well because it belongs to @@<<click Phaedria>><<replace "#reveal">>
"And therein sate a ladie fresh and faire,
Making sweet solace to her selfe alone;
Sometimes she sung, as loud as larke in aire,
Sometimes she laught, that nigh her breth was gone,
Yet was here not with else any one,
That might to her moue cause of meriment:
Matter of merth enough, though there were none
She could deuise, and thousand waies inuent,
To feede her foolish humour, and vaine iolliment"(2.6.3.1-9).
<</replace>><</click>>@@, someone who you only recently discovered has the incredible knack to distract people from...well, pretty much everything they were thinking about.
<span id="reveal"></span>
Sure enough there she is, sitting on the bank and singing happy little nothings and vainly running fingers through her hair. To the tired eyes of every traveler she's a vision, decorated all in flowers from the foliage that surrounds her. She looks up and notices the boat, smiling happily, and calls to you. Despite the fact that you two left each other's company on imperfect terms, her eyes show no sign of worry or upset. She is beautiful, languid, and joyous. That's all she ever is.
The ferryman continues to slide on by her, and you watch as she flounces into her little boat made of woven limbs. It steers itself in your direction, Phaedria the whole time gracelessly waving and giggling to try and get your attention. And then suddenly she's in the boat, YOUR boat, chattering...
about the weather...
...
......
about this one dog she saw...
....
...
.........
about the time she took you across a lake...
...
....
you know the flowers on the islands smell like lemons...
...
Isn't traveling fun? How are you guys?
...
...
It's been like weeks since she's seen another person. Well, at least, weeks since she'd seen a MAN.
...
Now she mentions how cute she thinks the Palmer is...
That's about when he told her off. Poor gentle, smiling little Phaedria makes a little scoffing noise in the back of her throat, turns her nose up, and hops back into her tiny skiff. With her goes any easy joyful feelings, and the mood settles back to one of determination. Which can almost be considered too bad...With her gone, the Palmer and the ferryman sit on either side of you like a pair of bookends.
[[Oh my god, bring her back. Her distraction is downright welcome at this point.|Chasing Phaedria]]
[[Ignore her completely.|Unthriftiness]]
</center>
<center>In a brilliant moment of Hulk madness you tear that crap down:
"But all those pleasant bowres and Pallace braue,
//Guyon// broke downe, with rigour pittilesse;
Ne ought their goodly workmanship might saue
Them from the tempest of his wrathfulnesse,
But that their blisse he turn'd to balefulness:
Their groues he feld, their gardins did deface,
Their arbers spoyle, their Cabinets suppresse,
Their banket houses burne, their buildings race,
And of the fairest late, now made the fowlest place"(2.12.83).
That's right, you go straight lumberjack tearing down all those trees. You trample a fence or two, and somehow start some fires, and now the bower won't lure anyone in ever again. After exerting your energy on this, you nod to the Palmer and head back to the boat, trailing Arcasia.
[[Kill Arcasia now, to make the annihilation of this place of pleasure complete.|Failstate White]]
[[Take her with you?|Restore the Humans]] </center> You think you can go back to the boat. How heartbreaking for you then, that it's gone. You were so sure you parked it over there, behind you somewhere, in space B-5. It was either B-5 or F-6. And the color on the parking garage level was green....or maybe orange? Purple? It was something.
You're lost, man. And this era doesn't have key clickers to help you find that boat.
Sorry to be the bearer of bad news, there. Would you like to chase some other dream instead?
[[Bunny Island, then?|Bunny Island]]
[[To the Trees, Bro.|Tree Island]]You could have sworn there was something good on this island, but there isn't. It isn't even that pretty.
[[Go the to next island.|Tree Island]]
[[Turn Around|Lost 1]]There really aren't any good trees here, which is a shame because you swore you saw it from a distance.
[[Go to the next island|Bunny Island]]
[[Turn Around|Lost 1]]Now you're just plain lost. What are you doing with yourself? Is this productive?
[[Keep going.|Lost 2]] There's a distinct absence of anything fulfilling...or exciting...or fun. Just a lot of swampy water in your nasty shoes. Too bad you didn't bring a shower in a can or something.
[[Keep going.|Lost 3]]Is that the same tree you saw last time? Where are you? And what was it you were doing again?
[[Keep going|Lost 4]]
[[Quit to Start of the Game|Beginning]] @@.reveal;@@There's something about that girl that's downright...pleasant. You look at the ferryman, still paddling on as if nothing happened, and then at the Palmer's steady face. Up ahead you can already see the next trial, a marked absence of movement disturbing the righteous flow of water, and you wonder why your trip has to be like this. Struggle after struggle, nothing you win ever comes without a fight. Phaedria, now feet away, turns to throw you an easy kiss and then laughs. Why can't she come with you?
Your weaponry clinks off your armor as you reposition yourself in the boat. Your lifestlye is not suited for such a character. Last time you had seen her you knew she had been leading you @@<<click astray>><<replace "#reveal">>"But he was wise, and warie to her will,
And euer held his hand vpon his hart:
Yet would not seeme so rude, and thewed ill,
As to despise so courteous seeming part,
That gentle Ladie did to him impart,
But fairely tempring fond desire subdewd,
And euer her desired to depart.
She list not heare, but her disports poursewd,
And euer bad him stay, till time the tide renewd"(2.6.26.1-9).<</replace>><</click>>@@, and even on her peaceful isle you had gotten into a fight with another knight. Inevitably this upset her.
<span id="reveal"></span>
You reason that unless you give up what it means to be a knight you can't have Phaedria, if mainly because she can't handle any sort of fighting. But there is a desire there. Some part of you does want that blissful woman.
[[Pursue Phaedria|Phaedria Fail]]
[[Let her go.|Unthriftiness]] <center>@@.reveal;@@ Departing from the isles and Phaedria allows you to now focus your full attention on the emerging dilemma ahead: Quicksand. Yeah, you read that right. Look, this is a work of fantasy. If Spenser says there's a gigantic chunk of quicksand out in the middle of an ocean then we can't argue, we just have to go with it. Think of it as part of temperance, and have patience with the plot point.
As you come closer you can see people slogging through it. The good news is they're not endangering themselves for fun; the bad news is that they're endangering themselves for goods. What else would you expect from the quicksand of //Unthriftyhed//? Beside them a cargo ship sits upset in the muck as her crew desperately attempts to save what they can. All kinds of wares are slowly being sucked down with the ship, and try as they might the men can't help but watch the riches they amassed sink into the muck @@<<click never>><<replace "#reveal1">>
"They passing by, a goodly Ship did see,
Laden from far with precious merchandize,
And brauely furnished, as ship might bee,
Which through great disauenture, or mesprize,
Her selfe had runne into that hazardize;
Whose mariners and merchants with much toyle,
Labour'd in vaine, to haue recur'd their prize,
And the rich wares to saue from pitteous spoyle,
But neither toyle nor trauell might her backe recoyle"(2.12.19.1-9).
<</replace>><</click>>@@ to be retrieved. It would be reasonable to want to save them, it's heartbreaking, really. But not enough for this author, because there's more!
<span id="reveal1"></span>
Like the delightful gate that welcomed you on this journey, this passage has a whirlpool opposite the quicksand. It wasn't enough to present one challenge at a time, you know, these two //had// to be coupled together. (No, seriously.) You take some solace in the fact that it's much quieter than the gulfe, but your reassurance ends there because this is the //Whirlpoole of decay//, which is every bit as devestating as it sounds. Turning like a wheel it grabs at the edges of ships that come near, pulling them under and erasing them from world and from @@<<click memory>><<replace "#reveal2">>
"On th'other side they see that perilous Poole,
That called was the //Whirlepoole of decay//,
In which full many had with haplesse doole
Beene suncke, of whom no memorie did stay:
Whose circled waters rapt with whirling sway,
Like a restless wheele, still running round,
Did couet, as they passed by that way,
To draw the boate within the vtmost bound
Of this wide //Labyrinth//, and then to haue them dround"(2.12.20.1-9).<</replace>><</click>>@@. <span id="reveal2"></span>
That description seems suspiciously poetic.
At this point in your journey it might be obvious to you that these things are to be avoided. But if you really want to get closer, I guess I can't stop you:
[[Closer to Whirlpoole of Decay]]
[[Closer to Quicksand]]
[[If your're satisfied with your current path, please proceed.|First Monsters]]
</center> Instead of balancing your desire with any amount of rationality you decide to go whole-hog and chase after Phaedria. You throw yourself off the boat, ditching your armor and letting it sink down into the muck to paddle after her. I can't say she's not delighted by your decision.
You ride in her boat (which only seats two) to the Idle lake, and spend the rest of your existence there with her. It's lovely, much like the Wandering isles appeared, only real. Her domain is lush, every branch a flower and every flower a bee to pollinate it. The sun rises every day but never burns you, the still lakes cool your feet. There's no house or town to go to, no real crafts to pursue, and you sit in the balmy weather and roll through the grass with Phaedria. Every day like this, every day on end. You lose any desire to fight, the actions of anger and sadness, and your natural sense of inner conflict. Some do consider this to be a good thing.
But don't you think you've given something up? What about the range of human emotion? What about your existence of a knight, duty and temperance? Could it be that your sole reason for being in this story is not just to be happy, but to do more? And besides that, Phaedria can be...boring. I said it. That girl is cute, but she talks about NOTHING. Sure, she's artistic. She can sing, and entertain. But what good is that, if there's no struggle or anything to learn from it? You've basically chosen a fate similar to watching morning talkshows for the rest of your life. Those are hard enough to watch once.
So you have two choices now. You can stay here and be happy, which isn't completely off the table. It DOES seem to suit Phaedria. But if you want to make progress in this game, and progress with temperance, you're going to have to start over. I'll inform you that this is NOT the end screen, and that there's much more to experience, if only you can resist leaving on this purely pleasant image.
[[Try again.|Beginning]] You look closer. It is, in fact, a whirlpool, just as the narrator led you to believe. It also looks to you like a great place to end your quest, and completely erase your progress so far. You've played an rpg before, right? Look, I've been really nice to you so far. I'm under the impression that temperance doesn't mean being perfect, just that it means trying to do the right thing. Any normal game designer would probably have killed you by now. Instead I'm offering you a chance to reconsider the consequences here, the consequences being that all your work up to this point disappears. And then you'd have to like, go back to the beginning and hit all the right buttons to get back to this point. That generally blows. Unless, for some reason, you're into that kind of thing?
In which case, [[be my guest and plunge into the whirlpool|Failstate Black]].
Or, you know, you could [[think about it again and go back.|Unthriftiness]] @@.reveal;@@Perhaps it's the cargo boxes laden with exotic goods - I'm thinking jaguar pelts, cages of little monkies, gems from India and China, teas you've never tasted. Or maybe it's the dozens of men struggling, pulled down by their own rotten @@<<click luck>><<replace "#reveal1">>"Thrift, (n). The fact or condition of thriving or prospering; prosperity, success, good luck; in early use sometimes = fortune (good or bad); luck", //or// "That which is saved (of something); savings"("thrift").<</replace>><</click>>@@ and inability to save anything. Maybe they make //you// want to save THEM, or give them your money as charity?
It's the second reason you've come here, right? You humanitarian you.
<span id="reveal1"></span>
But dear player, there IS no saving the luckless, and you can't lose your money this way. If you tried to help you'd suffer your own inability to save, but it would be the inability to save people, not cargo.
And no, I haven't programmed any way for you to score some sweet loot or something. There isn't even any currency in this game. Why would I waste my time on that? Let it go.
[["No, I won't let it go, narrator. I can have it all! Everything is mine!"|Failstate Black]]
[["Look, somebody should probably help those guys. Does temperance really conflict with that?"|Failstate Black]]
[["Maybe I should reconsider..."|Unthriftiness]] <center>Your congratulations to the Palmer are cut short by a sound - no, not more monsters. Not a whirlpool or a gulf. Not even Phaedria chasing you down again. //This// time it's a woman screaming for help!
There she is, sitting on the shore of a small island and wailing for your attentions. Unlike the members of the quicksand crew she seems to be someone you can help, not unlike the various travelers you've met on previous parts of your quest.
She's calling for help now, waving you, and the look of agony on her face is almost too much. What kind of misfortune could she possibly have faced? Was it those monsters? Did they do this to her?!
If there's one thing I know it's that you, Guyon, knight of virtue, cannot resist a damsel in distress. Of course it's your inclination to help her. You're a knight, possibly in shining armor. It would be a downright shame to leave her there to suffer while you just boat right past. You're much too noble for that.
Right? Can I at least trust you to do this one thing?
[[Ignore her.|Failstate Black]]
<<popup "Save her dude!" "Palmer Lady">> </center> <center>@@.reveal;@@Through the hellstorm of birds the Palmer makes out the shore. Wait, let me clarify. He makes out the shore of the //Bowre of blisse//. Yes, you read that right. You're here. You're finally, finally here. Go ahead, take a moment to pat yourself on the back. I'll wait.
Those warm fuzzies, am I right?
Not to prematurely kill your moment of self-congratulations, but...well, you're not done yet. Your quest was to DEFEAT the bowre of bliss, remember? This isn't the Oregon Trail game. You don't get to be finished just because you reached your destination. But that's cool because you're a knight, right, and this kind of thing is sort of the stuff you do best? And after all those trials you should be ready now to go forth firmly with those lessons, consistently, and be ready for //all// things that upset you. I mean, if Phaedria shows up and emotionally upsets you you got that, and if it's another whirlpool...well, you got that too.
The Palmer tells you to be @@<<click ready>><<replace "#reveal1">>
"He hearkned, and his armes about him tooke,
The whiles the nimble boate so well her sped,
That with her crooked keele the land she strooke,
Then forth the noble //Guyon// sallied,
And his sage Palmer, that him gouerned;
But th'other by his boate behind did stay.
They marched fairly forth, of nought ydred,
Both firmely armd for euery hard assay,
With constancy and care, gainst daunger and dismay"(2.12.38.1-9).
<</replace>><</click>>@@ because this is a place of peril, and you both suit up in anticipation. <span id="reveal1"></span> You're ready for danger AND dismay! (Does this mean you finally get to use your sword?)
Eager to get out of the boat, you place one foot on land. Annnndddd.....monsters. There are more monsters, again. You're not afraid of them, and you get ready to fight!
Lucky for you, you bloodthirsty beast, the Palmer is on it before you can so much as lift a finger. And he's got that @@<<click staff>><<replace "#reveal2">>
"But soone as they approcht with deadly threat,
The Palmer ouer them his staffe vpheld,
His might staffe, that could all charmes defeat:
Eftsoones their stubborne courages were queld,
And high aduaunced crests downe meekely feld,
In stead of fraying, they them selues did feare,
And trembled, as them passing they beheld:
Such wondrus powre did in that staffe appeare,
All monsters to subdew to him, that did it beare.
Of that same wood it fram'd was cunningly,
Of which //Caduceus //whilome was made,
//Caduceus// the rod of //Mercury//,
With which he wonts the //Stygian// realmes inuade,
Through ghastly horrour, and eternall shade;
Th'infernall feends with it he can asswage,
And //Orcus// tame, whom nothing can perswade,
And rule the //Furyes//, when they most do rage:
Such vertue in his staffe and eke this Palmer sage"(2.12.40-41).
<</replace>><</click>>@@ again. <span id="reveal2"></span> He whips that baby out and suddenly all the monsters become afraid of you. You two pass through without any trouble, hoardes of creatures shaking as you go by. What is with that staff anyway? It rules furies, it transforms things, but yet it never kills. Which is too bad, because for an rpg there really hasn't been a whole lot of killing...
Anyway, that staff probably has something to do with virtue. What does that mean for the Palmer, and why are you always depending on him, man? It's almost like control of intense emotion has something to do with temperance....Oh wait. It does. Let's get on with the book then, shall we?
[[Proceed to the Bowre?|Bowre Gate]]
</center> <center>Okay, this looks bad. Real bad. You have absolutely no idea what to do. But you get props because you know that. You know panicking doesn't help, you know mindless fighting doesn't help. That's impressive. Acknowledging your weakness, not claiming perfection, that's a good step towards temperance.
So how about a truth bomb? What if, in order to be temperate, you have to sometimes be a little intemperate? Think about it. If you were perfectly temperate all the time you wouldn't be a mixture of right and wrong, a middle path or a gray area. Everything you did would be something you considered absolute, correct, or RIGHT. There would be no real tempering, mixing ideas and opinions, and there would be no reason to do so because you'd be a weirdly perfect being who doesn't need a middle road. You would be one-sided, intemperate.
This is why, right now, you need the Palmer. Think of him like a really badass mother figure, if you will. And the Palmer tells you to chill, because these monsters are really just an illusion. Then he totally whips out a staff and smites the water, and all the "monsters" flea to their deep-water mother, //Tethys//.
Holy crap. Who would have thought that guy had it in him? He's done almost nothing up to this point in the canto. The Palmer is actually awesome.
[[Thanks to your friend, now you can continue on. Please click this option, and then hit the "x" in the corner.|Screaming Lady]]</center>[[Beginning]]
[[Gulf of Greedinesse and Rock of Reproch]]
[[Past the Rock]]
[[Wandering Islands Viewpoint]]
[[Phaedria]]
[[Unthriftiness]]
[[First Monsters]]
[[Palmer Interjects]]
[[Screaming Lady]]
[[Mermaids]]
[[Birds Plus Second Monsters]]
[[Genius]]
[[Bowre Gate]]
[[Bower Desc 1]]
[[Two Girls One Fountain]]
[[Meeting Acrasie]]
[[Kidnap Arcasia]]
[[Destroy Bowre of Bliss]]
[[Restore the Humans]]
[[Works Cited]] Hello there! You might be wondering what you did wrong, and I understand that. This is the white fail screen, and there are only a few ways to get to it. If you're wondering how it happened, consider the following questions:
1. Did you choose an option that would deny or eliminate portions of the human experience? (Example: Denying feelings of pleasure, attempting to destroy pleasure entirely, etc.)
2. Did you choose to kill an important character, when what they represent may not be killable?
3. Was the option you chose administering justice at the risk of ignoring the good of a situation? (In other words, did you choose the "white" of a black, white, or gray option?)
4. Did you do something a bit unreasonable in an attempt to save somebody?
5. Did you fall into a trap for the sake of courtesy, allowing your wits to be dulled? (Did you know that "temperance" is now a term that applies to alcohol?)
Whatever the case, it's understandable. I encourage you to [[go back|Beginning]] and try again! <center>Your noble instincts are noted, if maybe not informed. You tell the Palmer to head on over there, but he respectfully declines. While saving women is a distraction from your quest that is for a good cause, the Palmer explains that this particular woman herself is a trap. "For she is inly nothing ill apayd, / But onely womanish fine forgery, / Your stubborne hart t'affect with fraile infirmity"(2.12.28.7-9). She exists only to lure you to her island so she can corrupt you, and you will never finish your quest. Isn't this just the most ethically conflicted of all traps?
You still have the option to [[ignore her|Mermaids]], but this time it's different. Why? Because now you're ignoring her for the right reasons, instead of a lack of caring or an unwillingness to be inconvenienced. You're tempering your desire with the good reason of another person.
However, you can also disregard your friend and [[save her|Failstate White]].</center><center>
Whoa man. Palmer's telling you to get ahold of yourself and gives you advice. Really. Look, it says it right here:
"But him the Palmer from that vanity, / With temperate aduice discounselled"(2.12.34.1-2). He had to pull you away from those mermaids, man! If it weren't for your friends you'd never get through this, huh? Thank goodness temperance is a cooperative virtue. Also thank goodness they're smarter than you.
[[Keep on boatin'.|Birds Plus Second Monsters]]
</center> <center>Works Cited:</center>
"genius, n. and adj." OED Online. Oxford University Press, March 2017. Web. 18 March 2017.
Grant, Elizabeth Woolridge. Video Games. Lana Del Rey. Robopop, 2012. MP3.
Spenser, Edmund. The Faerie Queene. Ed. Thomas P. Roche. St. Ives: Penguin, 1987. Print.
"temperance, n." OED Online. Oxford University Press, March 2017. Web. 18 March 2017.
"thrift, n.1." OED Online. Oxford University Press, March 2017. Web. 21 March 2017.
<center>Special thanks to Alexander Owen,
for putting up with my endless questions.
Also to the Twine community,
without whom this game wouldn't have been possible.</center><center>@@.reveal;@@This is it. I mean it this time. This is the bower of bliss. Okay, well, just outside the bower anyway. And in honor of our theme (which is temperance, btw, in case you forgot) I am now going to defer to the man himself, because I know when something can't be beaten. Consider this a reward for making your way through this game:
"Thence passing forth, they shortly do arriue,
Whereas the Bower of //Blisse// was situate;
A place pickt out by choice of best aliue,
That natures worke by art can imitate:
In which what euer in this worldly state
Is sweet, and pleasing vnto liuing sense,
Or that may dayntiest fantasie aggrate,
Was poured forth with plentifull dispence,
And made there to abound with lauish affluence"(2.12.42.1-9).
Was that good? Did you like that? Because there are better surprises coming up, pretty prose and more art. Just you wait.
The bower is beautiful. Crafted through the competition of art and nature equally to dazzle you, there are sensuous plants and dappled fruits and clearings that smell of spring. The salty air fades from your tongue to be replaced by scents of wildflowers, so thick you can almost taste it. And everything, everything is begging for you to experience it with all your sense. Nothing meets your eyes that doesn't appear pleasant and comforting.
Ahead is a gate that opens to the bower. You think at first it's to keep out the monsters, but on inspection it's wrought thin and glittering, incapable of withstanding the force of beasts(or perhaps even a wise and temperate knight). It's also...open. Masterfully wrought in ivory is the story of //Jason// and //Medea//, which for all you folks out there who didn't grow up knowing every obscure Greek reference goes something like @@<<click this.>><<replace "#reveal1">>
A woman named Medea (niece of Circe, granddaughter of Helios, so she's nobody to mess with...Circe is the one who likes to turn men into pigs!) once fell in love with a hero named Jason and helped him score a cool golden fleece he needed to claim the throne in exchange for marriage. He agreed and they stole the fleece, which of course upset someone because when do Greek myths ever go well? Medea's father chased them, so Medea cut up her brother and...tossed chunks of him into the sea...to distract her father with the floating chunks of his son...
Clearly their relationship was off to a good start. Things were cool until some king offered Jason his daughter. In response Jason is like, "forget my wife, that chick is so hot" and ditches Medea. Medea, one never to act on an impulse, sends his wife-to-be a robe for her wedding night which promptly bursts into flame and kills the poor bride.<</replace>><</click>>@@
<span id="reveal1"></span>
The gate is so well crafted it seems almost alive. The boat from which the pieces of brother were tossed looked as if it was bobbing on foam capped waters which intertwined into themselves. Ivory into ivory, water out of water. Over the carving lay two features that stood out amongst the rest, bold and brilliantly applied color to offset the snowy white. These colors were vermillion, the color of blood trailing from the brother's body, and the blazing robe all emblazoned in sprinkles of gold. While this work of art is worthy of lingering, what is stranger still is the man just inside of it, tall and handsome, flashily deckt. Imagine this guy like Johnny Depp, if you will, in his role as Willie Wonka, only less goofy looking. He smiles and gestures at you in a similar way. Something about him says "mad genius."
That's a pretty good hunch, because this man is //named// @@<<click Genius>><<replace "#reveal2">>
"They in that place him //Genius// did call:
Not that celestiall powre, to whom the care
Of life, and generation of all,
The liues, pertaines in charge particulare,
Who wondrous thigns concerning our welfare,
And straunge phantomes doth let vs oft forsee,
And oft of secret ill bids vs beware:
That is our Selfe, whom though we do not see,
Yet each doth in him selfe it well perceiue to bee.
Therefore a God him sage Antiquity
Did wisely make, and good //Agdistes// call:
But this same was to that quite contrary,
The foe of life, that good enuyes to all,
That secretly doth vs procure to fall,
Through guilefull semblaunts, which he makes vs see.
He of this Gardin had the gouernall,
And Pleasures porter was deuized to bee,
Holding a staffe in hand for more formalitee"(2.12.47-48).
<</replace>><</click>>@@, but maybe not in the sense you would imagine. <span id="reveal2"></span> (It might help, good knight, to consult an outside @@<<click party>><<replace "#reveal3">>"Genius: Either of two mutually opposed spirits imagined as accompanying a person throughout his or her life and exerting either a good or bad influence. Hence in extended use: a person who exerts a good or bad influence over another's character, conduct, or fortunes"("genius"). <</replace>><</click>>@@ for this. <span id="reveal3"></span>He COULD be an evil genius, but then again he could be good. Your call.) This dude runs the garden and is "Pleasures Porter". You notice a staff in his hand that makes him look pretty legit, but it's not nearly as impressive as the Palmer's. Maybe it's because his isn't magical? It looks nice though, set about with flowers like he is. They hang in bunches and garlands round about him, swaying softly in the breeze and occasionally landing in a sacrificial bowl of wine beside him.
As you pass through and walk towards him he smiles and lifts the bowl in courtesy. You are now a guest here in the garden, and this is your welcome!
[[Accept the wine and stay to chat. It's the courteous thing to do.|Maybe No]]
[["I know better than to accept wine from Willie Wonka."|Bower Desc 1]]</center> Pow! You take that pretty lady's cup and you throw it on the ground! Bet she deserved that, boy howdy! Wine runs everywhere, and the cup is smashed, and she is SO MAD, but you don't even care because that's how super macho you are. You showed Excess the what for, and you didn't even look at her when she started screaming at you. You're pretty much untemptable, aren't you? Wow. Such a man. I should be like, so impressed right now that you didn't fall for that trap. I bet you think you wouldn't care about a NAKED lady, even.
But first, let's talk about art and nature. They've been running throughout this garden so far, but what exactly have they been doing? Opposed, "nature had for wantonesse ensude / Art, and that Art at nature did repine; / So striuing each th'other did undermine"(2.12.59.2-5). Each one has a different aim and yet it's the two together that makes the garden what it is. Can we consider this order in chaos, or not? If you're not supposed to like the bower then aren't both art and nature here corrupt? "So all agreed through sweete diuersitie, / The Gardin to adorne with all varietie"(2.12.59.8-9). Maybe it can even be said that both are shallow, simply pleasure driven, and that in this garden they serve only as empty aspects of pleasure. Both nature and man are capable of constructing something devoid of higher virtue? What do you think, sir knight?
...
......
...
Okay. Fine. I'll take you to the ladies, already. You come up on a fountain in the middle of all the beautiful NATURE and ART that exist in the fields around you.
[[Inspect Fountain|Two Girls One Fountain]] Before you take a sip you enter into a conversation with him. He seems pleasant. He wants you to stay, get drunk with him. Then he reccomends you take off your armor going into the bower, since it will probably weigh you down anyway and you might hurt yourself after a drink or two. Plus, if you want to lie down on the fresh, cool grass it will probably hurt like hell. Have you ever tried to lay down on a hunk of metal? That's not happening, right?
So why don't you just take a load off?
He smiles widely again, and his teeth flash ivory.
He tells you to drink up. If you want to keep talking without being rude, it's recommended you do so.
[[Take a sip out of courtesy.|Failstate White]]
[[Reconsider hanging out with this guy...|Bowre Gate]] <center><<playsound "vgames.mp3" >>Instead of taking his wine, you throw it on the ground! Bam, take that, creepy gate man! And then to add insult to injury you snap his staff in half! How's that for a phallic symbol? But seriously man, you just threw a ton of shade at that guy. You don't care because you're just too bad, aren't you? That's right. Go strut your stuff. Tell them that you're Guyon, and you don't need no man!
Your ==dorky== super-studly strut takes you deeper into the bower. It becomes more pleasant, more beautiful, more detailed as you wander through it, almost as if someone is trying to call to attention to the bower in all its intracasies. It seems strange that so much detail would go into a place that is infamous, a location that no one you're met loves nor trusts. You look ahead:
"Thus being entered, they behold around
A large and spacious plaine, on euery side
Strowed with pleasauns, whose faire grassy ground
Mantled with greene, and goodly beautifide
With all the ornaments of //Floraes// pride,
Wherewith her mother Art, as halfe in scorne
Of niggard Nature, like a pompous bride
Did decke her, and too lavishly adorne,
When forth from virgin bowre she comes in th'early morne.
Thereto the Heauens alwayes Iouiall,
Lookt on them louely, still in steadfast state,
Ne suffred storme nor frost on them to fall,
Their tender buds or leaues to violate,
Nor scorching heat, nor cold intemperate
T'afflict the creatures, which therein did dwell,
But the milde aire with season moderate
Gently attempred, and disposd so well,
That still it breathed forth sweet spirit and holesome smell"(2.12.50-51).
Yes, this place is wonderful. There comes to mind a strange myth you once heard a long time ago of a place that looked much like this:
"More sweet and holesome, then the pleasaunt hill
Of //Rhodope//, on which the Nimphe, that bore
A gyant babe, her selfe for griefe did kill..."(2.12.52.1-3).
You contemplate this comparison as you walk on, ready to enter the second half of the garden.
[[Continue to explore the bower.|Bower Desc 2]]</center> <center>Within the gate of ivory is now another gate. If that gate was artistic, this one is more natural, made of interwoven vines, flowering branches, sinuous and encircling. From them hang bunches of grapes, like an Italian arbor, and their colors amaze you. Deep purple hides hints of deeper ruby red, ripe and inviting passerbys to taste sweet juice. They look like jewels arrayed along the curved boughs.
"Archt ouer head with an embracing vine,
Whose bounches hanging downe, seemd to entice
All passers by, to tast their lushious wine,
And did themselues into their hands incline,
As freely offering to be gathered:
Some deepe empurpled as the //Hyacint//,
Some as the Rubine, laughing sweetly red,
Some like faire Emeraudes, not yet well ripened.
And them amongst, some were of burnisht gold,
So made by art, to beautifie the rest,
Which did themselues emongst the leaues enfold,
As lurking from the vew of couetous guest,
That the weake bowes, with so rich load opprest,
Did bow adowne, as ouer-burdened"(2.12.54-55).
Underneath the tempting fruit sits a beautiful woman. Her clothes are fancy but dissheveled, and they seem to be....too young for her? Maybe that's not it. Whatever it is, she doesn't seem very ladylike. Your eyes follow her train of movement as she bends upwards to pluck clusters of swollen grapes in her lily hands, and then crushes them gently and surely into a golden cup. She repeats this movement until the cup is full, and with a demur look she offers you a drink.
[[Accept the drink.|Failstate Black]]
[[THROW IT ON THE GROUND!|Two Girls in a Fountain]]
</center> The fountain is made "of richest substaunce, that on earth might bee"(2.12.60.1), decorated in scrolling scenes of naked boys frolicking and playing with toys, or running about, "Whilest others did them selues embay in liquid ioyes"(9). The water is of crystal, the coating is of gold, and most "Would surely deeme it to be yuie trew"(2.12.61.5). Water runs forth from the heads of the fountain in infinite streams and collects beneath, a little lake or sea over pebbled jasper from which the fount sticks out like a mast. "And all the margent round about was set, / With shady Laurell trees, thence to defend / The sunny beames, which on the billowes bet/, And those which therein bathed, mote offend"(2.12.63.1-4). But no tree or leaf can hide the fair damsel from the sun.
This is why you came upon two women wrestling wildly in the waters, who "ne car'd to hyde, / Their dinty parts from vew of any, which them eyde"(2.12.63.8-9). Two naked ladies in a fountain. As they play the waves about them move, sometimes settling to allow full view of their hidden hills and valleys, other times veiling them softly as a gauze.
You slow down.
One of them notices your party and gasps, dunking herself coyly into the water. Her counterpart instead stands up, exposing the curve of chest, back, navel, and thigh. "And all, that might his melting hart entise / To her delights, she vnto him bewrayd: / The rest hid vnderneath, him more desirous made"(2.12.66.3-9). Then the coy one gets up and reaches up to the top of her head. There sits a glorious golden bun. With one smooth motion she lets it down and it falls in curtains, spilling across cheek and chest and back. It hides things from view and frames her face, but in doing so reveals even more what is underneath.
They beckon you to join them in that crystal pool. A noticable blush has crept across your face. "The secret signes of kindled lust appeare"(2.12.68.6).
<<popup "Watch them because you can't look away." "Palmer Says No">>
[[Ignore them.|Something Doesn't Feel Right]] You feel in yourself the desire. It's undeniable, and you can't shut it out. You find yourself drawn to them...your eyes linger...
Then the Palmer reminds you gently that you're on a quest, and you should probably get to finishing that. Keep moving forward, Guyon.
That dude really has your back.
[[Acknowledge yourself, but don't lose sight.|Meeting Acrasie]] You feel yourself tempted by them, your body affected by an undeniable pleasure. This is the normal human response, yet you feel an impulse to shut it out. It leaves you only a few options.
You could attack the girls, and rid this place of a corruption powerful enough to affect a virtuous knight.
You could ignore them, along with the fact that you ever have felt such an imperfect impulse.
Or you can accept your own lust, and continue to stare them down.
[[Attack them!|Failstate Black]]
[[Ignore them.|Failstate White]]
<<popup "Stare at them. You know you want to." "Palmer Says No">><center> You creep further into the bower as the man finishes his song, not wanting to be seen by Arcasia. Now that you're closer you can make her out more clearly. She's laying down on a bed of roses, loosely draped "All in a vele of silke and siluer thin, / That hid no whit her alablaster skin, / but rather shewd more white, if more might bee"(2.12.77.4-6). If you think the netting did anything to hide any of your other parts either, you're wrong. Instead it seemed to accentuate them, and
"Her snowy brest was bare to readie spoyle
Of hungry eies, which n'ote therewith be fild,
And yet through languour of her late sweet toyle,
Few drops, more cleare then Nectar, forth distild,
That like pure Orient perles adowne it trild,
And her faire eyes sweet smyling in delight,
Moystened their fierie beames, with which she thrild
Fraile harts, yet quenched not; like starry light
Which sparckling on the silent waues, does seeme more bright"(2.12.78.1-9).
The armor and weapons bleonging to the boy beneath her were hung up in the trees, discarded by him or perhaps taken in a moment of lust. Now enchanted, he spends his days in "lewd loues, and wastfull luxuree"(2.12.80.7) with Acrasia, who will not let him go.
She is there, feet from you. What will you do to end this?
Think carefully about this challenge, and all the challenges that have brought you here. It's very easy to fail.
[[Join her?|Failstate Black]]
[[Kill her, to relase the boy.|Failstate White]]
[[Take her captive?|Kidnap Arcasia]] </center> <center>You and the Palmer head back towards the boat with Arcasia. Along the way you are besieged by (what else?) MONSTERS again. They gnash their teeth, and scream at you, and attack you in defnese of the Witch who has kept them there. But that's alright, because you know now that they're just humans enchanted by Acrasia. You request to the Palmer to release them.
The Palmer does so, and all of them transform back into humans, "Yet being men they did unmanly looke"(2.12.86.3). Some of them were flat-out ashamed that they had been so weak and been trapped in animal bodies, which makes sense to a temperate man such as you.
But then there were others that were mad that you hold Arcasia captive, and others simply lamented the loss of their animal selves. Grill in particular. Grille actually liked being a PIG, and "Repined greatly, and did him miscall, / That had from hoggish forme him brought to naturall"(2.12.86.8-9).
As your last act of temperance, you lament these poor souls. And you say this:
"See the mind of beastly man,
That hath so soone forgot the excellence
Of his creation, when he life began,
That now he chooseth, with vile difference,
To be a beast, and lacke intelligence"(2.12.87.1-5).
What a thought to go out on. The men are allowed to at like beasts, as the Palmer points out. You two have more important things to do than try to convince those who cannot be convinced. Even Grill, that poor, naieve pigman. Look at him. He's pathetic.
You two shoulder on, and you wonder aloud at what it means to act an animal, or act a man. Perhaps the distinction between the two is you, knight of temperance.
[[Continue on. |Works Cited]]</center> <center>The Palmer whips out the net he brought specifically to capture Acrasia, and she and Verdant (which is the boy's name. Note the the ferryman...never gets a real name. But this kid does? WTF did he do to deserve that?) both become captive. "So held them vnder fast, the whiles the rest / Fled all away for feare of fowler shame. / The faire Enchauntresse, so vnwares opprest, / Tryde all her arts, & all her sleights, thence out to wrest"(2.12.81.5-8).
After this they're both trussed up, but Verdant you let go. Not before lecturing the crap out of him, though...
What do you do now?
[[Kill Arcasia, now that Verdant is safe.|Failstate White]]
[[SMASH THE BOWER!!!|Destroy Bowre of Bliss]]</center> You get out of the boat, but as you near the shore of the closest island you realize it's somewhat uglier than you had expected. What do you do?
[["No way to know what it looks like until you're on it, bro!"|Wandering Islands]]
[[Turn around, before you take a step onto shore.|Wandering Islands Viewpoint]]Who are you? What was your name again? G...Gary? Greg? No...that can't be it...
[[Keep going.|Lost 1]]