3. t. .1 | T H E T H I R D 3. t. .2 | BOOKE OF THE 3. t. .3 | FAERIE QVEENE. 3. t. .4 | Contayning, 3. t. .5 | THE LEGEND OF BRITOMARTIS. 3. t. .6 | OR 3. t. .7 | \Of Chastitie\. 3. p. 1.1 | It falls me here to write of Chastity, 3. p. 1.2 | That fairest vertue, farre aboue the rest; 3. p. 1.3 | For which what needs me fetch from \Faery\ 3. p. 1.4 | Forreine ensamples, it to haue exprest? 3. p. 1.5 | Sith it is shrined in my Soueraines brest, 3. p. 1.6 | And form'd so liuely in each perfect part, 3. p. 1.7 | That to all Ladies, which haue it profest, 3. p. 1.8 | Need but behold the pourtraict of her hart, 3. p. 1.9 | If pourtrayd it might be by any liuing art. 3. p. 2.1 | But liuing art may not least part expresse, 3. p. 2.2 | Nor life-resembling pencill it can paint, 3. p. 2.3 | All were it \Zeuxis\ or \Praxiteles:\ 3. p. 2.4 | His da+edale hand would faile, and greatly faint, 3. p. 2.5 | And her perfections with his error taint: 3. p. 2.6 | Ne Poets wit, that passeth Painter farre 3. p. 2.7 | In picturing the parts of beautie daint, 3. p. 2.8 | So hard a workmanship aduenture darre, 3. p. 2.9 | For fear through want of words her excellence to marre. 3. p. 3.1 | How then shall I, Apprentice of the skill, 3. p. 3.2 | That whylome in diuinest wits did raine, 3. p. 3.3 | Presume so high to stretch mine humble quill? 3. p. 3.4 | Yet now my lucklesse lot doth me constraine 3. p. 3.5 | Hereto perforce. But O dred Soueraine 3. p. 3.6 | Thus farre forth pardon, sith that choicest wit 3. p. 3.7 | Cannot your glorious pourtraict figure plaine 3. p. 3.8 | That I in colourd showes may shadow it, 3. p. 3.9 | And antique praises vnto present persons fit. 3. p. 4.1 | But if in liuing colours, and right hew, 3. p. 4.2 | Your selfe you couet to see pictured, 3. p. 4.3 | Who can it doe more liuely, or more trew, 3. p. 4.4 | Then that sweet verse, with \Nectar\ sprinckeled, 3. p. 4.5 | In which a gracious seruant pictured 3. p. 4.6 | His \Cynthia\, his heauens fairest light? 3. p. 4.7 | That with his melting sweetnesse rauished, 3. p. 4.8 | And with the wonder of her beames bright, 3. p. 4.9 | My senses lulled are in slomber of delight. 3. p. 5.1 | But let that same delitious Poet lend 3. p. 5.2 | A little leaue vnto a rusticke Muse 3. p. 5.3 | To sing his mistresse prayse, and let him mend, 3. p. 5.4 | If ought amis her liking may abuse: 3. p. 5.5 | Ne let his fairest \Cynthia\ refuse, 3. p. 5.6 | In mirrours more then one her selfe to see, 3. p. 5.7 | But either \Gloriana\ let her chuse, 3. p. 5.8 | Or in \Belpho+ebe\ fashioned to bee: 3. p. 5.9 | In th'=one her rule, in th'=other her rare chastitee. 3. 1. A.1 | \Guyon encountreth Britomart,\ 3. 1. A.2 | \faire Florimell is chaced:\ 3. 1. A.3 | \Duessaes traines and Malecastaes\ 3. 1. A.4 | \champions are defaced.\ 3. 1. 1.1 | The famous Briton Prince and Faerie knight, 3. 1. 1.2 | After long wayes and perilous paines endured, 3. 1. 1.3 | Hauing their wearie limbes to perfect plight 3. 1. 1.4 | Restord, and sory wounds right well recured, 3. 1. 1.5 | Of the faire \Alma\ greatly were procured, 3. 1. 1.6 | To make there lenger soiourne and abode; 3. 1. 1.7 | But when thereto they might not be allured, 3. 1. 1.8 | From seeking praise, and deeds of armes abrode, 3. 1. 1.9 | They courteous conge tooke, and forth together yode. 3. 1. 2.1 | But the captiu'd \Acrasia\ he sent, 3. 1. 2.2 | Because of trauell long, a nigher way, 3. 1. 2.3 | With a strong gard, all reskew to preuent, 3. 1. 2.4 | And her to Faerie court safe to conuay, 3. 1. 2.5 | That her for witnesse of his hard assay, 3. 1. 2.6 | Vnto his \Faerie\ Queene he might present: 3. 1. 2.7 | But he him selfe betooke another way, 3. 1. 2.8 | To make more triall of his hardiment, 3. 1. 2.9 | And seeke aduentures, as he with Prince \Arthur\ went. 3. 1. 3.1 | Long so they trauelled through wastefull wayes, 3. 1. 3.2 | Where daungers dwelt, and perils most did wonne, 3. 1. 3.3 | To hunt for glorie and renowmed praise; 3. 1. 3.4 | Full many Countries they did ouerronne, 3. 1. 3.5 | From the vprising to the setting Sunne, 3. 1. 3.6 | And many hard aduentures did atchieue; 3. 1. 3.7 | Of all the which they honour euer wonne, 3. 1. 3.8 | Seeking the weake oppressed to relieue, 3. 1. 3.9 | And to recouer right for such, as wrong did grieue. 3. 1. 4.1 | At last as through an open plaine they yode, 3. 1. 4.2 | They spide a knight, that towards pricked faire, 3. 1. 4.3 | And him beside an aged Squire there rode, 3. 1. 4.4 | That seem'd to couch vnder his shield three-square, 3. 1. 4.5 | As if that age bad him that burden spare, 3. 1. 4.6 | And yield it those, that stouter could it wield: 3. 1. 4.7 | He them espying, gan himselfe prepare, 3. 1. 4.8 | And on his arme addresse his goodly shield 3. 1. 4.9 | That bore a Lion passant in a golden field. 3. 1. 5.1 | Which seeing good Sir \Guyon\, deare besought 3. 1. 5.2 | The Prince of grace, to let him runne that turne. 3. 1. 5.3 | He graunted: then the Faery quickly raught 3. 1. 5.4 | His poinant speare, and sharpely gan to spurne 3. 1. 5.5 | His fomy steed, whose fierie feete did burne 3. 1. 5.6 | The verdant grasse, as he thereon did tread; 3. 1. 5.7 | Ne did the other backe his foot returne, 3. 1. 5.8 | But fiercely forward came withouten dread, 3. 1. 5.9 | And bent his dreadfull speare against the others head. 3. 1. 6.1 | They bene ymet, and both their points arriued, 3. 1. 6.2 | But \Guyon\ droue so furious and fell, 3. 1. 6.3 | That seem'd both shield and plate it would haue riued; 3. 1. 6.4 | Nathelesse it bore his foe not from his sell, 3. 1. 6.5 | But made him stagger, as he were not well: 3. 1. 6.6 | But \Guyon\ selfe, ere well he was aware, 3. 1. 6.7 | Nigh a speares length behind his crouper fell, 3. 1. 6.8 | Yet in his fall so well him selfe he bare, 3. 1. 6.9 | That mischieuous mischance his life and limbes did spare. 3. 1. 7.1 | Great shame and sorrow of that fall he tooke; 3. 1. 7.2 | For neuer yet, sith warlike armes he bore, 3. 1. 7.3 | And shiuering speare in bloudie field first shooke, 3. 1. 7.4 | He found himselfe dishonored so sore. 3. 1. 7.5 | Ah gentlest knight, that euer armour bore, 3. 1. 7.6 | Let not thee grieue dismounted to haue beene, 3. 1. 7.7 | And brought to ground, that neuer wast before; 3. 1. 7.8 | For not thy fault, but secret powre vnseene, 3. 1. 7.9 | That speare enchaunted was, which layd thee on the greene. 3. 1. 8.1 | But weenedst thou what wight thee ouerthrew, 3. 1. 8.2 | Much greater griefe and shamefuller regret 3. 1. 8.3 | For thy hard fortune then thou wouldst renew, 3. 1. 8.4 | That of a single damzell thou wert met 3. 1. 8.5 | On equall plaine, and there so hard beset; 3. 1. 8.6 | Euen the famous \Britomart\ it was, 3. 1. 8.7 | Whom straunge aduenture did from \Britaine\ fet, 3. 1. 8.8 | To seeke her louer (loue farre sought alas,) 3. 1. 8.9 | Whose image she had seene in \Venus\ looking glas. 3. 1. 9.1 | Full of disdainefull wrath, he fierce vprose, 3. 1. 9.2 | For to reuenge that foule reprochfull shame, 3. 1. 9.3 | And snatching his bright sword began to close 3. 1. 9.4 | With her on foot, and stoutly forward came; 3. 1. 9.5 | Die rather would he, then endure that same. 3. 1. 9.6 | Which when his Palmer saw, he gan to feare 3. 1. 9.7 | His toward perill and vntoward blame, 3. 1. 9.8 | Which by that new rencounter he should reare: 3. 1. 9.9 | For death sate on the point of that enchaunted speare. 3. 1.10.1 | And hasting towards him gan faire perswade, 3. 1.10.2 | Not to prouoke misfortune, nor to weene 3. 1.10.3 | His speares default to mend with cruell blade; 3. 1.10.4 | For by his mightie Science he had seene 3. 1.10.5 | The secret vertue of that weapon keene, 3. 1.10.6 | That mortall puissance mote not withstond: 3. 1.10.7 | Nothing on earth mote alwaies happie beene. 3. 1.10.8 | Great hazard were it, and aduenture fond, 3. 1.10.9 | To loose long gotten honour with one euill hond. 3. 1.11.1 | By such good meanes he him discounselled, 3. 1.11.2 | From prosecuting his reuenging rage; 3. 1.11.3 | And eke the Prince like treaty handeled, 3. 1.11.4 | His wrathfull will with reason to asswage, 3. 1.11.5 | And laid the blame, not to his carriage, 3. 1.11.6 | But to his starting steed, that swaru'd asyde, 3. 1.11.7 | And to the ill purueyance of his page, 3. 1.11.8 | That had his furnitures not firmely tyde: 3. 1.11.9 | So is his angry courage fairely pacifyde. 3. 1.12.1 | Thus reconcilement was betweene them knit, 3. 1.12.2 | Through goodly temperance, and affection chaste, 3. 1.12.3 | And either vowd with all their power and wit, 3. 1.12.4 | To let not others honour be defaste, 3. 1.12.5 | Of friend or foe, who euer it embaste, 3. 1.12.6 | Ne armes to beare against the others syde: 3. 1.12.7 | In which accord the Prince was also plaste, 3. 1.12.8 | And with that golden chaine of concord tyde. 3. 1.12.9 | So goodly all agreed, they forth yfere did ryde. 3. 1.13.1 | O goodly vsage of those antique times, 3. 1.13.2 | In which the sword was seruant vnto right; 3. 1.13.3 | When not for malice and contentious crimes, 3. 1.13.4 | But all for praise, and proofe of manly might, 3. 1.13.5 | The martiall brood accustomed to fight: 3. 1.13.6 | Then honour was the meed of victorie, 3. 1.13.7 | And yet the vanquished had no despight: 3. 1.13.8 | Let later age that noble vse enuie, 3. 1.13.9 | Vile rancour to auoid, and cruell surquedrie. 3. 1.14.1 | Long they thus trauelled in friendly wise, 3. 1.14.2 | Through countries waste, and eke well edifyde, 3. 1.14.3 | Seeking aduentures hard, to exercise 3. 1.14.4 | Their puissance, whylome full dernely tryde: 3. 1.14.5 | At length they came into a forrest wyde, 3. 1.14.6 | Whose hideous horror and sad trembling sound 3. 1.14.7 | Full griesly seem'd: Therein they long did ryde, 3. 1.14.8 | Yet tract of liuing creatures none they found, 3. 1.14.9 | Saue Beares, Lions, and Buls, which romed them around. 3. 1.15.1 | All suddenly out of the thickest brush, 3. 1.15.2 | Vpon a milk-white Palfrey all alone, 3. 1.15.3 | A goodly Ladie did foreby them rush, 3. 1.15.4 | Whose face did seeme as cleare as Christall stone, 3. 1.15.5 | And eke through feare as white as whales bone: 3. 1.15.6 | Her garments all were wrought of beaten gold, 3. 1.15.7 | And all her steed with tinsell trappings shone, 3. 1.15.8 | Which fled so fast, that nothing mote him hold, 3. 1.15.9 | And scarse them leasure gaue, her passing to behold. 3. 1.16.1 | Still as she fled, her eye she backward threw, 3. 1.16.2 | As fearing euill, that pursewd her fast; 3. 1.16.3 | And her faire yellow locks behind her flew, 3. 1.16.4 | Loosely disperst with puffe of euery blast: 3. 1.16.5 | All as a blazing starre doth farre outcast 3. 1.16.6 | His hearie beames, and flaming lockes dispred, 3. 1.16.7 | At sight whereof the people stand aghast: 3. 1.16.8 | But the sage wisard telles, as he has red, 3. 1.16.9 | That it importunes death and dolefull drerihed. 3. 1.17.1 | So as they gazed after her a while, 3. 1.17.2 | Lo where a griesly Foster forth did rush, 3. 1.17.3 | Breathing out beastly lust her to defile: 3. 1.17.4 | His tyreling iade he fiercely forth did push, 3. 1.17.5 | Through thicke and thin, both ouer banke and bush 3. 1.17.6 | In hope her to attaine by hooke or crooke, 3. 1.17.7 | That from his gorie sides the bloud did gush: 3. 1.17.8 | Large were his limbes, and terrible his looke, 3. 1.17.9 | And in his clownish hand a sharp bore speare he shooke. 3. 1.18.1 | Which outrage when those gentle knights did see, 3. 1.18.2 | Full of great enuie and fell gealosy, 3. 1.18.3 | They stayd not to auise, who first should bee, 3. 1.18.4 | But all spurd after fast, as they mote fly, 3. 1.18.5 | To reskew her from shamefull villany. 3. 1.18.6 | The Prince and \Guyon\ equally byliue 3. 1.18.7 | Her selfe pursewd, in hope to win thereby 3. 1.18.8 | Most goodly meede, the fairest Dame aliue: 3. 1.18.9 | But after the foule foster \Timias\ did striue. 3. 1.19.1 | The whiles faire \Britomart\, whose constant mind, 3. 1.19.2 | Would not so lightly follow beauties chace, 3. 1.19.3 | Ne reckt of Ladies Loue, did stay behind, 3. 1.19.4 | And them awayted there a certaine space, 3. 1.19.5 | To weet if they would turne backe to that place: 3. 1.19.6 | But when she saw them gone, she forward went, 3. 1.19.7 | As lay her iourney, through that perlous Pace, 3. 1.19.8 | With stedfast courage and stout hardiment; 3. 1.19.9 | Ne euill thing she fear'd, ne euill thing she ment. 3. 1.20.1 | At last as nigh out of the wood she came, 3. 1.20.2 | A stately Castle farre away she spyde, 3. 1.20.3 | To which her steps directly she did frame. 3. 1.20.4 | That Castle was most goodly edifyde, 3. 1.20.5 | And plaste for pleasure nigh that forrest syde: 3. 1.20.6 | But faire before the gate a spatious plaine, 3. 1.20.7 | Mantled with greene, it selfe did spredden wyde, 3. 1.20.8 | On which she saw sixe knights, that did darraine 3. 1.20.9 | Fierce battell against one, with cruell might and maine. 3. 1.21.1 | Mainly they all attonce vpon him laid, 3. 1.21.2 | And sore beset on euery side around, 3. 1.21.3 | That nigh he breathlesse grew, yet nought dismaid, 3. 1.21.4 | Ne euer to them yielded foot of ground 3. 1.21.5 | All had he lost much bloud through many a wound, 3. 1.21.6 | But stoutly dealt his blowes, and euery way 3. 1.21.7 | To which he turned in his wrathfull stound, 3. 1.21.8 | Made them recoile, and fly from dred decay, 3. 1.21.9 | That none of all the sixe before, him durst assay. 3. 1.22.1 | Like dastard Curres, that hauing at a bay 3. 1.22.2 | The saluage beast embost in wearie chace, 3. 1.22.3 | Dare not aduenture on the stubborne pray, 3. 1.22.4 | Ne byte before, but rome from place to place, 3. 1.22.5 | To get a snatch, when turned is his face. 3. 1.22.6 | In such distresse and doubtfull ieopardy, 3. 1.22.7 | When \Britomart\ him saw, she ran a pace 3. 1.22.8 | Vnto his reskew, and with earnest cry, 3. 1.22.9 | Bad those same sixe forbeare that single enimy. 3. 1.23.1 | But to her cry they list not lenden eare, 3. 1.23.2 | Ne ought the more their mightie strokes surceasse, 3. 1.23.3 | But gathering him round about more neare, 3. 1.23.4 | Their direfull rancour rather did encreasse; 3. 1.23.5 | Till that she rushing through the thickest preasse, 3. 1.23.6 | Perforce disparted their compacted gyre, 3. 1.23.7 | And soone compeld to hearken vnto peace: 3. 1.23.8 | Tho gan she myldly of them to inquyre 3. 1.23.9 | The cause of their dissention and outrageous yre. 3. 1.24.1 | Whereto that single knight did answere frame; 3. 1.24.2 | These sixe would me enforce by oddes of might, 3. 1.24.3 | To chaunge my liefe, and loue another Dame, 3. 1.24.4 | That death me liefer were, then such despight, 3. 1.24.5 | So vnto wrong to yield my wrested right: 3. 1.24.6 | For I loue one, the truest one on ground, 3. 1.24.7 | Ne list me chaunge; she th'=\Errant Damzell\ hight, 3. 1.24.8 | For whose deare sake full many a bitter stownd, 3. 1.24.9 | I haue endur'd, and tasted many a bloudy wound. 3. 1.25.1 | Certes (said she) then bene ye sixe to blame, 3. 1.25.2 | To weene your wrong by force to iustifie: 3. 1.25.3 | For knight to leaue his Ladie were great shame, 3. 1.25.4 | That faithfull is, and better were to die. 3. 1.25.5 | All losse is lesse, and lesse the infamie, 3. 1.25.6 | Then losse of loue to him, that loues but one; 3. 1.25.7 | Ne may loue be compeld by maisterie; 3. 1.25.8 | For soone as maisterie comes, sweet loue anone 3. 1.25.9 | Taketh his nimble wings, and soone away is gone. 3. 1.26.1 | Then spake one of those sixe, There dwelleth here 3. 1.26.2 | Within this castle wall a Ladie faire, 3. 1.26.3 | Whose soueraine beautie hath no liuing pere, 3. 1.26.4 | Thereto so bounteous and so debonaire, 3. 1.26.5 | That neuer any mote with her compaire. 3. 1.26.6 | She hath ordaind this law, which we approue, 3. 1.26.7 | That euery knight, which doth this way repaire, 3. 1.26.8 | In case he haue no Ladie, nor no loue, 3. 1.26.9 | Shall doe vnto her seruice neuer to remoue. 3. 1.27.1 | But if he haue a Ladie or a Loue, 3. 1.27.2 | Then must he her forgoe with foule defame, 3. 1.27.3 | Or else with vs by dint of sword approue, 3. 1.27.4 | That she is fairer, then our fairest Dame, 3. 1.27.5 | As did this knight, before ye hither came. 3. 1.27.6 | Perdie (said \Britomart\) the choise is hard: 3. 1.27.7 | But what reward had he, that ouercame? 3. 1.27.8 | He should aduaunced be to high regard, 3. 1.27.9 | (Said they) and haue our Ladies loue for his reward. 3. 1.28.1 | Therefore a read Sir, if thou haue a loue. 3. 1.28.2 | Loue haue I sure, (quoth she) but Lady none; 3. 1.28.3 | Yet will I not fro mine owne loue remoue, 3. 1.28.4 | Ne to your Lady will I seruice done, 3. 1.28.5 | But wreake your wrongs wrought to this knight alone, 3. 1.28.6 | And proue his cause. With that her mortall speare 3. 1.28.7 | She mightily auentred towards one, 3. 1.28.8 | And downe him smot, ere well aware he weare, 3. 1.28.9 | Then to the next she rode, and downe the next did beare. 3. 1.29.1 | Ne did she stay, till three on ground she layd, 3. 1.29.2 | That none of them himselfe could reare againe; 3. 1.29.3 | The fourth was by that other knight dismayd, 3. 1.29.4 | All were he wearie of his former paine, 3. 1.29.5 | That now there do but two of six remaine; 3. 1.29.6 | Which two did yield, before she did them smight. 3. 1.29.7 | Ah (said she then) now may ye all see plaine, 3. 1.29.8 | That truth is strong, and trew loue most of might, 3. 1.29.9 | That for his trusty seruaunts doth so strongly fight. 3. 1.30.1 | Too well we see, (said they) and proue too well 3. 1.30.2 | Our faulty weaknesse, and your matchlesse might: 3. 1.30.3 | For thy, faire Sir, yours be the Damozell, 3. 1.30.4 | Which by her owne law to your lot doth light, 3. 1.30.5 | And we your liege men faith vnto you plight. 3. 1.30.6 | So vnderneath her feet their swords they mard, 3. 1.30.7 | And after her besought, well as they might, 3. 1.30.8 | To enter in, and reape the dew reward: 3. 1.30.9 | She graunted, and then in they all together far'd. 3. 1.31.1 | Long were it to describe the goodly frame, 3. 1.31.2 | And stately port of \Castle Ioyeous\, 3. 1.31.3 | (For so that Castle hight by commune name) 3. 1.31.4 | Where they were entertaind with curteous 3. 1.31.5 | And comely glee of many gracious 3. 1.31.6 | Faire Ladies, and of many a gentle knight, 3. 1.31.7 | Who through a Chamber long and spacious, 3. 1.31.8 | Eftsoones them brought vnto their Ladies sight, 3. 1.31.9 | That of them cleeped was the \Lady of delight\. 3. 1.32.1 | But for to tell the sumptuous aray 3. 1.32.2 | Of that great chamber, should be labour lost: 3. 1.32.3 | For liuing wit, I weene, cannot display 3. 1.32.4 | The royall riches and exceeding cost, 3. 1.32.5 | Of euery pillour and of euery post; 3. 1.32.6 | Which all of purest bullion framed were, 3. 1.32.7 | And with great pearles and pretious stones embost, 3. 1.32.8 | That the bright glister of their beames cleare 3. 1.32.9 | Did sparckle forth great light, and glorious did appeare. 3. 1.33.1 | These straunger knights through passing, forth were led 3. 1.33.2 | Into an inner rowme, whose royaltee 3. 1.33.3 | And rich purueyance might vneath be red; 3. 1.33.4 | Mote Princes place beseeme so deckt to bee. 3. 1.33.5 | Which stately manner when as they did see, 3. 1.33.6 | The image of superfluous riotize, 3. 1.33.7 | Exceeding much the state of meane degree, 3. 1.33.8 | They greatly wondred, whence so sumptuous guize 3. 1.33.9 | Might be maintaynd, and each gan diuersely deuize. 3. 1.34.1 | The wals were round about apparelled 3. 1.34.2 | With costly clothes of \Arras\ and of \Toure\, 3. 1.34.3 | In which with cunning hand was pourtrahed 3. 1.34.4 | The loue of \Venus\ and her Paramoure 3. 1.34.5 | The faire \Adonis\, turned to a flowre, 3. 1.34.6 | A worke of rare deuice, and wondrous wit. 3. 1.34.7 | First did it shew the bitter balefull stowre, 3. 1.34.8 | Which her assayd with many a feruent fit, 3. 1.34.9 | When first her tender hart was with his beautie smit. 3. 1.35.1 | Then with what sleights and sweet allurements she 3. 1.35.2 | Entyst the Boy, as well that art she knew, 3. 1.35.3 | And wooed him her Paramoure to be; 3. 1.35.4 | Now making girlonds of each flowre that grew, 3. 1.35.5 | To crowne his golden lockes with honour dew; 3. 1.35.6 | Now leading him into a secret shade 3. 1.35.7 | From his Beauperes, and from bright heauens vew, 3. 1.35.8 | Where him to sleepe she gently would perswade, 3. 1.35.9 | Or bathe him in a fountaine by some couert glade. 3. 1.36.1 | And whilst he slept, she ouer him would spred 3. 1.36.2 | Her mantle, colour'd like the starry skyes, 3. 1.36.3 | And her soft arme lay vnderneath his hed, 3. 1.36.4 | And with ambrosiall kisses bathe his eyes; 3. 1.36.5 | And whilest he bath'd, with her two crafty spyes, 3. 1.36.6 | She secretly would search each daintie lim, 3. 1.36.7 | And throw into the well sweet Rosemaryes, 3. 1.36.8 | And fragrant violets, and Pances trim, 3. 1.36.9 | And euer with sweet Nectar she did sprinkle him. 3. 1.37.1 | So did she steale his heedelesse hart away, 3. 1.37.2 | And ioyd his loue in secret vnespyde. 3. 1.37.3 | But for she saw him bent to cruell play, 3. 1.37.4 | To hunt the saluage beast in forrest wyde, 3. 1.37.5 | Dreadfull of daunger, that mote him betyde, 3. 1.37.6 | She oft and oft aduiz'd him to refraine 3. 1.37.7 | From chase of greater beasts, whose brutish pryde 3. 1.37.8 | Mote breede him scath vnwares: but all in vaine; 3. 1.37.9 | For who can shun the chaunce, that dest'ny doth ordaine? 3. 1.38.1 | Lo, where beyond he lyeth languishing, 3. 1.38.2 | Deadly engored of a great wild Bore, 3. 1.38.3 | And by his side the Goddesse groueling 3. 1.38.4 | Makes for him endlesse mone, and euermore 3. 1.38.5 | With her soft garment wipes away the gore, 3. 1.38.6 | Which staines his snowy skin with hatefull hew: 3. 1.38.7 | But when she saw no helpe might him restore, 3. 1.38.8 | Him to a dainty flowre she did transmew, 3. 1.38.9 | Which in that cloth was wrought, as if it liuely grew. 3. 1.39.1 | So was that chamber clad in goodly wize, 3. 1.39.2 | And round about it many beds were dight, 3. 1.39.3 | As whilome was the antique worldes guize, 3. 1.39.4 | Some for vntimely ease, some for delight, 3. 1.39.5 | As pleased them to vse, that vse it might: 3. 1.39.6 | And all was full of Damzels, and of Squires, 3. 1.39.7 | Dauncing and reueling both day and night, 3. 1.39.8 | And swimming deepe in sensuall desires, 3. 1.39.9 | And \Cupid\ still emongst them kindled lustfull fires. 3. 1.40.1 | And all the while sweet Musicke did diuide 3. 1.40.2 | Her looser notes with \Lydian\ harmony; 3. 1.40.3 | And all the while sweet birdes thereto applide 3. 1.40.4 | Their daintie layes and dulcet melody, 3. 1.40.5 | Ay caroling of loue and iollity, 3. 1.40.6 | That wonder was to heare their trim consort. 3. 1.40.7 | Which when those knights beheld, with scornefull eye, 3. 1.40.8 | They sdeigned such lasciuious disport, 3. 1.40.9 | And loath'd the loose demeanure of that wanton sort. 3. 1.41.1 | Thence they were brought to that great Ladies vew, 3. 1.41.2 | Whom they found sitting on a sumptuous bed, 3. 1.41.3 | That glistred all with gold and glorious shew, 3. 1.41.4 | As the proud \Persian\ Queenes accustomed: 3. 1.41.5 | She seemd a woman of great bountihed, 3. 1.41.6 | And of rare beautie, sauing that askaunce 3. 1.41.7 | Her wanton eyes, ill signes of womanhed, 3. 1.41.8 | Did roll too lightly, and too often glaunce, 3. 1.41.9 | Without regard of grace, or comely amenaunce. 3. 1.42.1 | Long worke it were, and needlesse to deuize 3. 1.42.2 | Their goodly entertainement and great glee: 3. 1.42.3 | She caused them be led in curteous wize 3. 1.42.4 | Into a bowre, disarmed for to bee, 3. 1.42.5 | And cheared well with wine and spiceree: 3. 1.42.6 | The \Redcrosse\ Knight was soone disarmed there, 3. 1.42.7 | But the braue Mayd would not disarmed bee, 3. 1.42.8 | But onely vented vp her vmbriere, 3. 1.42.9 | And so did let her goodly visage to appere. 3. 1.43.1 | As when faire \Cynthia\, in darkesome night, 3. 1.43.2 | Is in a noyous cloud enueloped, 3. 1.43.3 | Where she may find the substaunce thin and light, 3. 1.43.4 | Breakes forth her siluer beames, and her bright hed 3. 1.43.5 | Discouers to the world discomfited; 3. 1.43.6 | Of the poore traueller, that went astray, 3. 1.43.7 | With thousand blessings she is heried; 3. 1.43.8 | Such was the beautie and the shining ray, 3. 1.43.9 | With which faire \Britomart\ gaue light vnto the day. 3. 1.44.1 | And eke those six, which lately with her fought, 3. 1.44.2 | Now were disarmd, and did them selues present 3. 1.44.3 | Vnto her vew, and company vnsoght; 3. 1.44.4 | For they all seemed curteous and gent, 3. 1.44.5 | And all sixe brethren, borne of one parent, 3. 1.44.6 | Which had them traynd in all ciuilitee, 3. 1.44.7 | And goodly taught to tilt and turnament; 3. 1.44.8 | Now were they liegemen to this Lady free, 3. 1.44.9 | And her knights seruice ought, to hold of her in fee. 3. 1.45.1 | The first of them by name \Gardante\ hight, 3. 1.45.2 | A iolly person, and of comely vew; 3. 1.45.3 | The second was \Parlante\, a bold knight, 3. 1.45.4 | And next to him \Iocante\ did ensew; 3. 1.45.5 | \Basciante\ did him selfe most curteous shew; 3. 1.45.6 | But fierce \Bacchante\ seemd too fell and keene; 3. 1.45.7 | And yet in armes \Noctante\ greater grew: 3. 1.45.8 | All were faire knights, and goodly well beseene, 3. 1.45.9 | But to faire \Britomart\ they all but shadowes beene. 3. 1.46.1 | For she was full of amiable grace, 3. 1.46.2 | And manly terrour mixed therewithall, 3. 1.46.3 | That as the one stird vp affections bace, 3. 1.46.4 | So th'=other did mens rash desires apall, 3. 1.46.5 | And hold them backe, that would in errour fall; 3. 1.46.6 | As he, that hath espide a vermeill Rose, 3. 1.46.7 | To which sharpe thornes and breres the way forstall, 3. 1.46.8 | Dare not for dread his hardy hand expose, 3. 1.46.9 | But wishing it far off, his idle wish doth lose. 3. 1.47.1 | Whom when the Lady saw so faire a wight, 3. 1.47.2 | All ignoraunt of her contrary sex, 3. 1.47.3 | (For she her weend a fresh and lusty knight) 3. 1.47.4 | She greatly gan enamoured to wex, 3. 1.47.5 | And with vaine thoughts her falsed fancy vex: 3. 1.47.6 | Her fickle hart conceiued hasty fire, 3. 1.47.7 | Like sparkes of fire, which fall in sclender flex, 3. 1.47.8 | That shortly brent into extreme desire, 3. 1.47.9 | And ransackt all her veines with passion entire. 3. 1.48.1 | Eftsoones she grew to great impatience 3. 1.48.2 | And into termes of open outrage brust, 3. 1.48.3 | That plaine discouered her incontinence, 3. 1.48.4 | Ne reckt she, who her meaning did mistrust; 3. 1.48.5 | For she was giuen all to fleshly lust, 3. 1.48.6 | And poured forth in sensuall delight, 3. 1.48.7 | That all regard of shame she had discust, 3. 1.48.8 | And meet respect of honour put to flight: 3. 1.48.9 | So shamelesse beauty soone becomes a loathly sight. 3. 1.49.1 | Faire Ladies, that to loue captiued arre, 3. 1.49.2 | And chaste desires do nourish in your mind, 3. 1.49.3 | Let not her fault your sweet affections marre, 3. 1.49.4 | Ne blot the bounty of all womankind; 3. 1.49.5 | 'Mongst thousands good one wanton Dame to find: 3. 1.49.6 | Emongst the Roses grow some wicked weeds; 3. 1.49.7 | For this was not to loue, but lust inclind; 3. 1.49.8 | For loue does alwayes bring forth bounteous deeds, 3. 1.49.9 | And in each gentle hart desire of honour breeds. 3. 1.50.1 | Nought so of loue this looser Dame did skill, 3. 1.50.2 | But as a coale to kindle fleshly flame, 3. 1.50.3 | Giuing the bridle to her wanton will, 3. 1.50.4 | And treading vnder foote her honest name: 3. 1.50.5 | Such loue is hate, and such desire is shame. 3. 1.50.6 | Still did she roue at her with crafty glaunce 3. 1.50.7 | Of her false eyes, that at her hart did ayme, 3. 1.50.8 | And told her meaning in her countenaunce; 3. 1.50.9 | But \Britomart\ dissembled it with ignoraunce. 3. 1.51.1 | Supper was shortly dight and downe they sat, 3. 1.51.2 | Where they were serued with all sumptuous fare, 3. 1.51.3 | Whiles fruitfull \Ceres\, and \Lya+eus\ fat 3. 1.51.4 | Pourd out their plenty, without spight or spare: 3. 1.51.5 | Nought wanted there, that dainty was and rare; 3. 1.51.6 | And aye the cups their bancks did ouerflow, 3. 1.51.7 | And aye betweene the cups, she did prepare 3. 1.51.8 | Way to her loue, and secret darts did throw; 3. 1.51.9 | But \Britomart\ would not such guilfull message know. 3. 1.52.1 | So when they slaked had the feruent heat 3. 1.52.2 | Of appetite with meates of euery sort, 3. 1.52.3 | The Lady did faire \Britomart\ entreat, 3. 1.52.4 | Her to disarme, and with delightfull sport 3. 1.52.5 | To loose her warlike limbs and strong effort, 3. 1.52.6 | But when she mote not thereunto be wonne, 3. 1.52.7 | (For she her sexe vnder that straunge purport 3. 1.52.8 | Did vse to hide, and plaine apparaunce shonne:) 3. 1.52.9 | In plainer wise to tell her grieuaunce she begonne. 3. 1.53.1 | And all attonce discouered her desire 3. 1.53.2 | With sighes, and sobs, and plaints, and piteous griefe, 3. 1.53.3 | The outward sparkes of her in burning fire; 3. 1.53.4 | Which spent in vaine, at last she told her briefe, 3. 1.53.5 | That but if she did lend her short reliefe, 3. 1.53.6 | And do her comfort, she mote algates dye. 3. 1.53.7 | But the chaste damzell, that had neuer priefe 3. 1.53.8 | Of such malengine and fine forgerie, 3. 1.53.9 | Did easily beleeue her strong extremitie. 3. 1.54.1 | Full easie was for her to haue beliefe, 3. 1.54.2 | Who by self-feeling of her feeble sexe, 3. 1.54.3 | And by long triall of the inward griefe, 3. 1.54.4 | Wherewith imperious loue her hart did vexe, 3. 1.54.5 | Could iudge what paines do louing harts perplexe. 3. 1.54.6 | Who meanes no guile, be guiled soonest shall, 3. 1.54.7 | And to faire semblaunce doth light faith annexe; 3. 1.54.8 | The bird, that knowes not the false fowlers call, 3. 1.54.9 | Into his hidden net full easily doth fall. 3. 1.55.1 | For thy she would not in discourteise wise, 3. 1.55.2 | Scorne the faire offer of good will profest; 3. 1.55.3 | For great rebuke it is, loue to despise, 3. 1.55.4 | Or rudely sdeigne a gentle harts request; 3. 1.55.5 | But with faire countenaunce, as beseemed best, 3. 1.55.6 | Her entertaynd; nath'lesse she inly deemd 3. 1.55.7 | Her loue too light, to wooe a wandring guest: 3. 1.55.8 | Which she misconstruing, thereby esteemd 3. 1.55.9 | That from like inward fire that outward smoke had steemd. 3. 1.56.1 | Therewith a while she her flit fancy fed, 3. 1.56.2 | Till she mote winne fit time for her desire, 3. 1.56.3 | But yet her wound still inward freshly bled, 3. 1.56.4 | And through her bones the false instilled fire 3. 1.56.5 | Did spred it selfe, and venime close inspire. 3. 1.56.6 | Tho were the tables taken all away, 3. 1.56.7 | And euery knight, and euery gentle Squire 3. 1.56.8 | Gan choose his dame with \Basciomani\ gay, 3. 1.56.9 | With whom he meant to make his sport and courtly play. 3. 1.57.1 | Some fell to daunce, some fell to hazardry, 3. 1.57.2 | Some to make loue, some to make meriment, 3. 1.57.3 | As diuerse wits to diuers things apply; 3. 1.57.4 | And all the while faire \Malecasta\ bent 3. 1.57.5 | Her crafty engins to her close intent. 3. 1.57.6 | By this th'=eternall lampes, wherewith high \Ioue\ 3. 1.57.7 | Doth light the lower world, were halfe yspent, 3. 1.57.8 | And the moist daughters of huge \Atlas\ stroue 3. 1.57.9 | Into the \Ocean\ deepe to driue their weary droue. 3. 1.58.1 | High time it seemed then for euery wight 3. 1.58.2 | Them to betake vnto their kindly rest; 3. 1.58.3 | Eftsoones long waxen torches weren light, 3. 1.58.4 | Vnto their bowres to guiden euery guest: 3. 1.58.5 | Tho when the Britonesse saw all the rest 3. 1.58.6 | Auoided quite, she gan her selfe despoile, 3. 1.58.7 | And safe commit to her soft fethered nest, 3. 1.58.8 | Where through long watch, and late dayes weary toile, 3. 1.58.9 | She soundly slept, and carefull thoughts did quite assoile. 3. 1.59.1 | Now whenas all the world in silence deepe 3. 1.59.2 | Yshrowded was, and euery mortall wight 3. 1.59.3 | Was drowned in the depth of deadly sleepe, 3. 1.59.4 | Faire \Malecasta\, whose engrieued spright 3. 1.59.5 | Could find no rest in such perplexed plight, 3. 1.59.6 | Lightly arose out of her wearie bed, 3. 1.59.7 | And vnder the blacke vele of guilty Night, 3. 1.59.8 | Her with a scarlot mantle couered, 3. 1.59.9 | That was with gold and Ermines faire enueloped. 3. 1.60.1 | Then panting soft, and trembling euerie ioynt, 3. 1.60.2 | Her fearfull feete towards the bowre she moued; 3. 1.60.3 | Where she for secret purpose did appoynt 3. 1.60.4 | To lodge the warlike mayd vnwisely loued, 3. 1.60.5 | And to her bed approching, first she prooued, 3. 1.60.6 | Whether she slept or wakt, with her soft hand 3. 1.60.7 | She softly felt, if any member mooued, 3. 1.60.8 | And lent her wary eare to vnderstand, 3. 1.60.9 | If any puffe of breath, or signe of sence she fond. 3. 1.61.1 | Which whenas none she fond, with easie shift, 3. 1.61.2 | For feare least her vnwares she should abrayd, 3. 1.61.3 | Th'=embroderd quilt she lightly vp did lift, 3. 1.61.4 | And by her side her selfe she softly layd, 3. 1.61.5 | Of euery finest fingers touch affrayd; 3. 1.61.6 | Ne any noise she made, ne word she spake, 3. 1.61.7 | But inly sigh'd. At last the royall Mayd 3. 1.61.8 | Out of her quiet slomber did awake, 3. 1.61.9 | And chaungd her weary side, the better ease to take. 3. 1.62.1 | Where feeling one close couched by her side, 3. 1.62.2 | She lightly lept out of her filed bed, 3. 1.62.3 | And to her weapon ran, in minde to gride 3. 1.62.4 | The loathed leachour. But the Dame halfe ded 3. 1.62.5 | Through suddein feare and ghastly drerihed, 3. 1.62.6 | Did shrieke alowd, that through the house it rong, 3. 1.62.7 | And the whole family therewith adred, 3. 1.62.8 | Rashly out of their rouzed couches sprong, 3. 1.62.9 | And to the troubled chamber all in armes did throng. 3. 1.63.1 | And those six Knights that Ladies Champions, 3. 1.63.2 | And eke the \Redcrosse\ knight ran to the stownd, 3. 1.63.3 | Halfe armd and halfe vnarmd, with them attons: 3. 1.63.4 | Where when confusedly they came, they fownd 3. 1.63.5 | Their Lady lying on the sencelesse grownd; 3. 1.63.6 | On th'=other side, they saw the warlike Mayd 3. 1.63.7 | All in her snow-white smocke, with locks vnbownd, 3. 1.63.8 | Threatning the point of her auenging blade, 3. 1.63.9 | That with so troublous terrour they were all dismayde. 3. 1.64.1 | About their Lady first they flockt arownd, 3. 1.64.2 | Whom hauing laid in comfortable couch, 3. 1.64.3 | Shortly they reard out of her frosen swownd; 3. 1.64.4 | And afterwards they gan with fowle reproch 3. 1.64.5 | To stirre vp strife, and troublous contecke broch: 3. 1.64.6 | But by ensample of the last dayes losse, 3. 1.64.7 | None of them rashly durst to her approch, 3. 1.64.8 | Ne in so glorious spoile themselues embosse; 3. 1.64.9 | Her succourd eke the Champion of the bloudy Crosse. 3. 1.65.1 | But one of those sixe knights, \Gardante\ hight, 3. 1.65.2 | Drew out a deadly bow and arrow keene, 3. 1.65.3 | Which forth he sent with felonous despight, 3. 1.65.4 | And fell intent against the virgin sheene: 3. 1.65.5 | The mortall steele stayd not, till it was seene 3. 1.65.6 | To gore her side, yet was the wound not deepe, 3. 1.65.7 | But lightly rased her soft silken skin, 3. 1.65.8 | That drops of purple bloud thereout did weepe, 3. 1.65.9 | Which did her lilly smock with staines of vermeil steepe. 3. 1.66.1 | Wherewith enrag'd she fiercely at them flew, 3. 1.66.2 | And with her flaming sword about her layd, 3. 1.66.3 | That none of them foule mischiefe could eschew, 3. 1.66.4 | But with her dreadfull strokes were all dismayd: 3. 1.66.5 | Here, there, and euery where about her swayd 3. 1.66.6 | Her wrathfull steele, that none mote it abide; 3. 1.66.7 | And eke the \Redcrosse\ knight gaue her good aid, 3. 1.66.8 | Ay ioyning foot to foot, and side to side, 3. 1.66.9 | That in short space their foes they haue quite terrifide. 3. 1.67.1 | Tho whenas all were put to shamefull flight, 3. 1.67.2 | The noble \Britomartis\ her arayd, 3. 1.67.3 | And her bright armes about her body dight: 3. 1.67.4 | For nothing would she lenger there be stayd, 3. 1.67.5 | Where so loose life, and so vngentle trade 3. 1.67.6 | Was vsd of Knights and Ladies seeming gent: 3. 1.67.7 | So earely ere the grosse Earthes gryesy shade 3. 1.67.8 | Was all disperst out of the firmament, 3. 1.67.9 | They tooke their steeds, and forth vpon their iourney went. 3. 2. A.1 | \The Redcrosse knight to Britomart\ 3. 2. A.2 | \describeth Artegall:\ 3. 2. A.3 | \The wondrous myrrhour, by which she\ 3. 2. A.4 | \in loue with him did fall.\ 3. 2. 1.1 | Here haue I cause, in men iust blame to find, 3. 2. 1.2 | That in their proper prayse too partiall bee, 3. 2. 1.3 | And not indifferent to woman kind, 3. 2. 1.4 | To whom no share in armes and cheualrie 3. 2. 1.5 | They do impart, ne maken memorie 3. 2. 1.6 | Of their braue gestes and prowesse martiall; 3. 2. 1.7 | Scarse do they spare to one or two or three, 3. 2. 1.8 | Rowme in their writs; yet the same writing small 3. 2. 1.9 | Does all their deeds deface, and dims their glories all. 3. 2. 2.1 | But by record of antique times I find, 3. 2. 2.2 | That women wont in warres to beare most sway, 3. 2. 2.3 | And to all great exploits them selues inclind: 3. 2. 2.4 | Of which they still the girlond bore away, 3. 2. 2.5 | Till enuious Men fearing their rules decay, 3. 2. 2.6 | Gan coyne streight lawes to curb their liberty; 3. 2. 2.7 | Yet sith they warlike armes haue layd away, 3. 2. 2.8 | They haue exceld in artes and pollicy, 3. 2. 2.9 | That now we foolish men that prayse gin eke t'=enuy. 3. 2. 3.1 | Of warlike puissaunce in ages spent, 3. 2. 3.2 | Be thou faire \Britomart\, whose prayse I write, 3. 2. 3.3 | But of all wisedome be thou precedent, 3. 2. 3.4 | O soueraigne Queene, whose prayse I would endite, 3. 2. 3.5 | Endite I would as dewtie doth excite; 3. 2. 3.6 | But ah my rimes too rude and rugged arre, 3. 2. 3.7 | When in so high an obiect they do lite, 3. 2. 3.8 | And striuing, fit to make, I feare do marre: 3. 2. 3.9 | Thy selfe thy prayses tell, and make them knowen farre. 3. 2. 4.1 | She trauelling with \Guyon\ by the way, 3. 2. 4.2 | Of sundry things faire purpose gan to find, 3. 2. 4.3 | T'=abridg their iourney long, and lingring day; 3. 2. 4.4 | Mongst which it fell into that Faeries mind, 3. 2. 4.5 | To aske this Briton Mayd, what vncouth wind, 3. 2. 4.6 | Brought her into those parts, and what inquest 3. 2. 4.7 | Made her dissemble her disguised kind: 3. 2. 4.8 | Faire Lady she him seemd, like Lady drest, 3. 2. 4.9 | But fairest knight aliue, when armed was her brest. 3. 2. 5.1 | Thereat she sighing softly, had no powre 3. 2. 5.2 | To speake a while, ne ready answere make, 3. 2. 5.3 | But with hart-thrilling throbs and bitter stowre, 3. 2. 5.4 | As if she had a feuer fit, did quake, 3. 2. 5.5 | And euery daintie limbe with horrour shake; 3. 2. 5.6 | And euer and anone the rosy red, 3. 2. 5.7 | Flasht through her face, as it had been a flake 3. 2. 5.8 | Of lightning, through bright heauen fulmined; 3. 2. 5.9 | At last the passion past she thus him answered. 3. 2. 6.1 | Faire Sir, I let you weete, that from the howre 3. 2. 6.2 | I taken was from nourses tender pap, 3. 2. 6.3 | I haue beene trained vp in warlike stowre, 3. 2. 6.4 | To tossen speare and shield, and to affrap 3. 2. 6.5 | The warlike ryder to his most mishap; 3. 2. 6.6 | Sithence I loathed haue my life to lead, 3. 2. 6.7 | As Ladies wont, in pleasures wanton lap, 3. 2. 6.8 | To finger the fine needle and nyce thread; 3. 2. 6.9 | Me leuer were with point of foemans speare be dead. 3. 2. 7.1 | All my delight on deedes of armes is set, 3. 2. 7.2 | To hunt out perils and aduentures hard, 3. 2. 7.3 | By sea, by land, where so they may be met, 3. 2. 7.4 | Onely for honour and for high regard, 3. 2. 7.5 | Without respect of richesse or reward. 3. 2. 7.6 | For such intent into these parts I came, 3. 2. 7.7 | Withouten compasse, or withouten card, 3. 2. 7.8 | Far fro my natiue soyle, that is by name 3. 2. 7.9 | The greater \Britaine\, here to seeke for prayse and fame. 3. 2. 8.1 | Fame blazed hath, that here in Faery lond 3. 2. 8.2 | Do many famous Knightes and Ladies wonne, 3. 2. 8.3 | And many straunge aduentures to be fond, 3. 2. 8.4 | Of which great worth and worship may be wonne; 3. 2. 8.5 | Which I to proue, this voyage haue begonne. 3. 2. 8.6 | But mote I weet of you, right curteous knight, 3. 2. 8.7 | Tydings of one, that hath vnto me donne 3. 2. 8.8 | Late foule dishonour and reprochfull spight, 3. 2. 8.9 | The which I seeke to wreake, and \Arthegall\ he hight. 3. 2. 9.1 | The word gone out, she backe againe would call, 3. 2. 9.2 | As her repenting so to haue missayd, 3. 2. 9.3 | But that he it vp-taking ere the fall, 3. 2. 9.4 | Her shortly answered; Faire martiall Mayd 3. 2. 9.5 | Certes ye misauised beene, t'=vpbrayd 3. 2. 9.6 | A gentle knight with so vnknightly blame: 3. 2. 9.7 | For weet ye well of all, that euer playd 3. 2. 9.8 | At tilt or tourney, or like warlike game, 3. 2. 9.9 | The noble \Arthegall\ hath euer borne the name. 3. 2.10.1 | For thy great wonder were it, if such shame 3. 2.10.2 | Should euer enter in his bounteous thought, 3. 2.10.3 | Or euer do, that mote deseruen blame: 3. 2.10.4 | The noble courage neuer weeneth ought, 3. 2.10.5 | That may vnworthy of it selfe be thought. 3. 2.10.6 | Therefore, faire Damzell, be ye well aware, 3. 2.10.7 | Least that too farre ye haue your sorrow sought: 3. 2.10.8 | You and your countrey both I wish welfare, 3. 2.10.9 | And honour both; for each of other worthy are. 3. 2.11.1 | The royall Mayd woxe inly wondrous glad, 3. 2.11.2 | To heare her Loue so highly magnifide, 3. 2.11.3 | And ioyd that euer she affixed had, 3. 2.11.4 | Her hart on knight so goodly glorifide, 3. 2.11.5 | How euer finely she it faind to hide: 3. 2.11.6 | The louing mother, that nine monethes did beare, 3. 2.11.7 | In the deare closet of her painefull side, 3. 2.11.8 | Her tender babe, it seeing safe appeare, 3. 2.11.9 | Doth not so much reioyce, as she reioyced theare. 3. 2.12.1 | But to occasion him to further talke, 3. 2.12.2 | To feed her humour with his pleasing stile, 3. 2.12.3 | Her list in strifull termes with him to balke, 3. 2.12.4 | And thus replide, How euer, Sir, ye file 3. 2.12.5 | Your curteous tongue, his prayses to compile, 3. 2.12.6 | It ill beseemes a knight of gentle sort, 3. 2.12.7 | Such as ye haue him boasted, to beguile 3. 2.12.8 | A simple mayd, and worke so haynous tort, 3. 2.12.9 | In shame of knighthood, as I largely can report. 3. 2.13.1 | Let be therefore my vengeaunce to disswade, 3. 2.13.2 | And read, where I that faytour false may find. 3. 2.13.3 | Ah, but if reason faire might you perswade, 3. 2.13.4 | To slake your wrath, and mollifie your mind, 3. 2.13.5 | (Said he) perhaps ye should it better find: 3. 2.13.6 | For hardy thing it is, to weene by might, 3. 2.13.7 | That man to hard conditions to bind, 3. 2.13.8 | Or euer hope to match in equall fight, 3. 2.13.9 | Whose prowesse paragon saw neuer liuing wight. 3. 2.14.1 | Ne soothlich is it easie for to read, 3. 2.14.2 | Where now on earth, or how he may be found; 3. 2.14.3 | For he ne wonneth in one certaine stead, 3. 2.14.4 | But restlesse walketh all the world around, 3. 2.14.5 | Ay doing things, that to his fame redound, 3. 2.14.6 | Defending Ladies cause, and Orphans right, 3. 2.14.7 | Where so he heares, that any doth confound 3. 2.14.8 | Them comfortlesse, through tyranny or might; 3. 2.14.9 | So is his soueraine honour raisde to heauens hight. 3. 2.15.1 | His feeling words her feeble sence much pleased, 3. 2.15.2 | And softly sunck into her molten hart; 3. 2.15.3 | Hart that is inly hurt, is greatly eased 3. 2.15.4 | With hope of thing, that may allegge his smart; 3. 2.15.5 | For pleasing words are like to Magick art, 3. 2.15.6 | That doth the charmed Snake in slomber lay: 3. 2.15.7 | Such secret ease felt gentle \Britomart\, 3. 2.15.8 | Yet list the same efforce with faind gainesay; 3. 2.15.9 | So dischord oft in Musick makes the sweeter lay. 3. 2.16.1 | And said, Sir knight, these idle termes forbeare, 3. 2.16.2 | And sith it is vneath to find his haunt, 3. 2.16.3 | Tell me some markes, by which he may appeare, 3. 2.16.4 | If chaunce I him encounter parauaunt; 3. 2.16.5 | For perdie one shall other slay, or daunt: 3. 2.16.6 | What shape, what shield, what armes, what steed, what sted, 3. 2.16.7 | And what so else his person most may vaunt? 3. 2.16.8 | All which the \Redcrosse\ knight to point ared, 3. 2.16.9 | And him in euery part before her fashioned. 3. 2.17.1 | Yet him in euery part before she knew, 3. 2.17.2 | How euer list her now her knowledge faine, 3. 2.17.3 | Sith him whilome in \Britaine\ she did vew, 3. 2.17.4 | To her reuealed in a mirrhour plaine, 3. 2.17.5 | Whereof did grow her first engraffed paine; 3. 2.17.6 | Whose root and stalke so bitter yet did tast, 3. 2.17.7 | That but the fruit more sweetnesse did containe, 3. 2.17.8 | Her wretched dayes in dolour she mote wast, 3. 2.17.9 | And yield the pray of loue to lothsome death at last. 3. 2.18.1 | By strange occasion she did him behold, 3. 2.18.2 | And much more strangely gan to loue his sight, 3. 2.18.3 | As it in bookes hath written bene of old. 3. 2.18.4 | In \Deheubarth\ that now South-wales is hight, 3. 2.18.5 | What time king \Ryence\ raign'd, and dealed right, 3. 2.18.6 | The great Magitian \Merlin\ had deuiz'd, 3. 2.18.7 | By his deepe science, and hell-dreaded might, 3. 2.18.8 | A looking glasse, right wondrously aguiz'd, 3. 2.18.9 | Whose vertues through the wyde world soone were solemniz'd. 3. 2.19.1 | It vertue had, to shew in perfect sight, 3. 2.19.2 | What euer thing was in the world contaynd, 3. 2.19.3 | Betwixt the lowest earth and heauens hight, 3. 2.19.4 | So that it to the looker appertaynd; 3. 2.19.5 | What euer foe had wrought, or frend had faynd, 3. 2.19.6 | Therein discouered was, ne ought mote pas, 3. 2.19.7 | Ne ought in secret from the same remaynd; 3. 2.19.8 | For thy it round and hollow shaped was, 3. 2.19.9 | Like to the world it selfe, and seem'd a world of glas. 3. 2.20.1 | Who wonders not, that reades so wonderous worke? 3. 2.20.2 | But who does wonder, that has red the Towre, 3. 2.20.3 | Wherein th'=A+Egyptian \Phao\ long did lurke 3. 2.20.4 | From all mens vew, that none might her discoure, 3. 2.20.5 | Yet she might all men vew out of her bowre? 3. 2.20.6 | Great \Ptoloma+ee\ it for his lemans sake 3. 2.20.7 | Ybuilded all of glasse, by Magicke powre, 3. 2.20.8 | And also it impregnable did make; 3. 2.20.9 | Yet when his loue was false, he with a peaze it brake. 3. 2.21.1 | Such was the glassie globe that \Merlin\ made, 3. 2.21.2 | And gaue vnto king \Ryence\ for his gard, 3. 2.21.3 | That neuer foes his kingdome might inuade, 3. 2.21.4 | But he it knew at home before he hard 3. 2.21.5 | Tydings thereof, and so them still debar'd. 3. 2.21.6 | It was a famous Present for a Prince, 3. 2.21.7 | And worthy worke of infinite reward, 3. 2.21.8 | That treasons could bewray, and foes conuince; 3. 2.21.9 | Happie this Realme, had it remained euer since. 3. 2.22.1 | One day it fortuned, faire \Britomart\ 3. 2.22.2 | Into her fathers closet to repayre; 3. 2.22.3 | For nothing he from her reseru'd apart, 3. 2.22.4 | Being his onely daughter and his hayre: 3. 2.22.5 | Where when she had espyde that mirrhour fayre, 3. 2.22.6 | Her selfe a while therein she vewd in vaine; 3. 2.22.7 | Tho her auizing of the vertues rare, 3. 2.22.8 | Which thereof spoken were, she gan againe 3. 2.22.9 | Her to bethinke of, that mote to her selfe pertaine. 3. 2.23.1 | But as it falleth, in the gentlest harts 3. 2.23.2 | Imperious Loue hath highest set his throne, 3. 2.23.3 | And tyrannizeth in the bitter smarts 3. 2.23.4 | Of them, that to him buxome are and prone: 3. 2.23.5 | So thought this Mayd (as maydens vse to done) 3. 2.23.6 | Whom fortune for her husband would allot, 3. 2.23.7 | Not that she lusted after any one; 3. 2.23.8 | For she was pure from blame of sinfull blot, 3. 2.23.9 | Yet wist her life at last must lincke in that same knot. 3. 2.24.1 | Eftsoones there was presented to her eye 3. 2.24.2 | A comely knight, all arm'd in complete wize, 3. 2.24.3 | Through whose bright ventayle lifted vp on hye 3. 2.24.4 | His manly face, that did his foes agrize, 3. 2.24.5 | And friends to termes of gentle truce entize, 3. 2.24.6 | Lookt foorth, as \Pho+ebus\ face out of the east, 3. 2.24.7 | Betwixt two shadie mountaines doth arize; 3. 2.24.8 | Portly his person was, and much increast 3. 2.24.9 | Through his Heroicke grace, and honorable gest. 3. 2.25.1 | His crest was couered with a couchant Hound, 3. 2.25.2 | And all his armour seem'd of antique mould, 3. 2.25.3 | But wondrous massie and assured sound, 3. 2.25.4 | And round about yfretted all with gold, 3. 2.25.5 | In which there written was with cyphers old, 3. 2.25.6 | \Achilles armes, which Arthegall did win\. 3. 2.25.7 | And on his shield enueloped seuenfold 3. 2.25.8 | He bore a crowned litle Ermilin, 3. 2.25.9 | That deckt the azure field with her faire pouldred skin. 3. 2.26.1 | The Damzell well did vew his personage, 3. 2.26.2 | And liked well, ne further fastned not, 3. 2.26.3 | But went her way; ne her vnguilty age 3. 2.26.4 | Did weene, vnwares, that her vnlucky lot 3. 2.26.5 | Lay hidden in the bottome of the pot; 3. 2.26.6 | Of hurt vnwist most daunger doth redound: 3. 2.26.7 | But the false Archer, which that arrow shot 3. 2.26.8 | So slyly, that she did not feele the wound, 3. 2.26.9 | Did smyle full smoothly at her weetlesse wofull stound. 3. 2.27.1 | Thenceforth the feather in her loftie crest, 3. 2.27.2 | Ruffed of loue, gan lowly to auaile, 3. 2.27.3 | And her proud portance, and her princely gest, 3. 2.27.4 | With which she earst tryumphed, now did quaile: 3. 2.27.5 | Sad, solemne, sowre, and full of fancies fraile 3. 2.27.6 | She woxe; yet wist she neither how, nor why, 3. 2.27.7 | She wist not, silly Mayd, what she did aile, 3. 2.27.8 | Yet wist, she was not well at ease perdy, 3. 2.27.9 | Yet thought it was not loue, but some melancholy. 3. 2.28.1 | So soone as Night had with her pallid hew 3. 2.28.2 | Defast the beautie of the shining sky, 3. 2.28.3 | And reft from men the worlds desired vew, 3. 2.28.4 | She with her Nourse adowne to sleepe did lye; 3. 2.28.5 | But sleepe full farre away from her did fly: 3. 2.28.6 | In stead thereof sad sighes, and sorrowes deepe 3. 2.28.7 | Kept watch and ward about her warily, 3. 2.28.8 | That nought she did but wayle, and often steepe 3. 2.28.9 | Her daintie couch with teares, which closely she did weepe. 3. 2.29.1 | And if that any drop of slombring rest 3. 2.29.2 | Did chaunce to still into her wearie spright, 3. 2.29.3 | When feeble nature felt her selfe opprest, 3. 2.29.4 | Streight way with dreames, and with fantasticke sight 3. 2.29.5 | Of dreadfull things the same was put to flight, 3. 2.29.6 | That oft out of her bed she did astart, 3. 2.29.7 | As one with vew of ghastly feends affright: 3. 2.29.8 | Tho gan she to renew her former smart, 3. 2.29.9 | And thinke of that faire visage, written in her hart. 3. 2.30.1 | One night, when she was tost with such vnrest, 3. 2.30.2 | Her aged Nurse, whose name was \Glauce\ hight, 3. 2.30.3 | Feeling her leape out of her loathed nest, 3. 2.30.4 | Betwixt her feeble armes her quickly keight, 3. 2.30.5 | And downe againe in her warme bed her dight; 3. 2.30.6 | Ah my deare daughter, ah my dearest dread, 3. 2.30.7 | What vncouth fit (said she) what euill plight 3. 2.30.8 | Hath thee opprest, and with sad drearyhead 3. 2.30.9 | Chaunged thy liuely cheare, and liuing made thee dead? 3. 2.31.1 | For not of nought these suddeine ghastly feares 3. 2.31.2 | All night afflict thy naturall repose, 3. 2.31.3 | And all the day, when as thine equall peares 3. 2.31.4 | Their fit disports with faire delight doe chose, 3. 2.31.5 | Thou in dull corners doest thy selfe inclose, 3. 2.31.6 | Ne tastest Princes pleasures, ne doest spred 3. 2.31.7 | Abroad thy fresh youthes fairest flowre, but lose 3. 2.31.8 | Both leafe and fruit, both too vntimely shed, 3. 2.31.9 | As one in wilfull bale for euer buried. 3. 2.32.1 | The time, that mortall men their weary cares 3. 2.32.2 | Do lay away, and all wilde beastes do rest, 3. 2.32.3 | And euery riuer eke his course forbeares, 3. 2.32.4 | Then doth this wicked euill thee infest, 3. 2.32.5 | And riue with thousand throbs thy thrilled brest; 3. 2.32.6 | Like an huge \Aetn'\ of deepe engulfed griefe, 3. 2.32.7 | Sorrow is heaped in thy hollow chest, 3. 2.32.8 | Whence forth it breakes in sighes and anguish rife, 3. 2.32.9 | As smoke and sulphure mingled with confused strife. 3. 2.33.1 | Aye me, how much I feare, least loue it bee; 3. 2.33.2 | But if that loue it be, as sure I read 3. 2.33.3 | By knowen signes and passions, which I see, 3. 2.33.4 | Be it worthy of thy race and royall sead, 3. 2.33.5 | Then I auow by this most sacred head 3. 2.33.6 | Of my deare foster child, to ease thy griefe, 3. 2.33.7 | And win thy will: Therefore away doe dread; 3. 2.33.8 | For death nor daunger from thy dew reliefe 3. 2.33.9 | Shall me debarre, tell me therefore my liefest liefe. 3. 2.34.1 | So hauing said, her twixt her armes twaine 3. 2.34.2 | She straightly straynd, and colled tenderly, 3. 2.34.3 | And euery trembling ioynt, and euery vaine 3. 2.34.4 | She softly felt, and rubbed busily, 3. 2.34.5 | To doe the frosen cold away to fly; 3. 2.34.6 | And her faire deawy eies with kisses deare 3. 2.34.7 | She oft did bath, and oft againe did dry; 3. 2.34.8 | And euer her importund, not to feare 3. 2.34.9 | To let the secret of her hart to her appeare. 3. 2.35.1 | The Damzell pauzd, and then thus fearefully; 3. 2.35.2 | Ah Nurse, what needeth thee to eke my paine? 3. 2.35.3 | Is not enough, that I alone doe dye, 3. 2.35.4 | But it must doubled be with death of twaine? 3. 2.35.5 | For nought for me but death there doth remaine. 3. 2.35.6 | O daughter deare (said she) despaire no whit; 3. 2.35.7 | For neuer sore, but might a salue obtaine: 3. 2.35.8 | That blinded God, which hath ye blindly smit, 3. 2.35.9 | Another arrow hath your louers hart to hit. 3. 2.36.1 | But mine is not (quoth she) like others wound; 3. 2.36.2 | For which no reason can find remedy. 3. 2.36.3 | Was neuer such, but mote the like be found, 3. 2.36.4 | (Said she) and though no reason may apply 3. 2.36.5 | Salue to your sore, yet loue can higher stye, 3. 2.36.6 | Then reasons reach, and oft hath wonders donne. 3. 2.36.7 | But neither God of loue, nor God of sky 3. 2.36.8 | Can doe (said she) that, which cannot be donne. 3. 2.36.9 | Things oft impossible (quoth she) seeme, ere begonne. 3. 2.37.1 | These idle words (said she) doe nought asswage 3. 2.37.2 | My stubborne smart, but more annoyance breed, 3. 2.37.3 | For no no vsuall fire, no vsuall rage 3. 2.37.4 | It is, O Nurse, which on my life doth feed, 3. 2.37.5 | And suckes the bloud, which from my hart doth bleed. 3. 2.37.6 | But since thy faithfull zeale lets me not hyde 3. 2.37.7 | My crime, (if crime it be) I will it reed. 3. 2.37.8 | Nor Prince, nor pere it is, whose loue hath gryde 3. 2.37.9 | My feeble brest of late, and launched this wound wyde. 3. 2.38.1 | Nor man it is, nor other liuing wight; 3. 2.38.2 | For then some hope I might vnto me draw, 3. 2.38.3 | But th'=only shade and semblant of a knight, 3. 2.38.4 | Whose shape or person yet I neuer saw, 3. 2.38.5 | Hath me subiected to loues cruell law: 3. 2.38.6 | The same one day, as me misfortune led, 3. 2.38.7 | I in my fathers wondrous mirrhour saw, 3. 2.38.8 | And pleased with that seeming goodly-hed, 3. 2.38.9 | Vnwares the hidden hooke with baite I swallowed. 3. 2.39.1 | Sithens it hath infixed faster hold 3. 2.39.2 | Within my bleeding bowels, and so sore 3. 2.39.3 | Now ranckleth in this same fraile fleshly mould, 3. 2.39.4 | That all mine entrailes flow with poysnous gore, 3. 2.39.5 | And th'=vlcer groweth daily more and more; 3. 2.39.6 | Ne can my running sore find remedie, 3. 2.39.7 | Other then my hard fortune to deplore, 3. 2.39.8 | And languish as the leafe falne from the tree, 3. 2.39.9 | Till death make one end of my dayes and miserie. 3. 2.40.1 | Daughter (said she) what need ye be dismayd, 3. 2.40.2 | Or why make ye such Monster of your mind? 3. 2.40.3 | Of much more vncouth thing I was affrayd; 3. 2.40.4 | Of filthy lust, contrarie vnto kind: 3. 2.40.5 | But this affection nothing straunge I find; 3. 2.40.6 | For who with reason can you aye reproue, 3. 2.40.7 | To loue the semblant pleasing most your mind, 3. 2.40.8 | And yield your heart, whence ye cannot remoue? 3. 2.40.9 | No guilt in you, but in the tyranny of loue. 3. 2.41.1 | Not so th'=\Arabian Myrrhe\ did set her mind; 3. 2.41.2 | Nor so did \Biblis\ spend her pining hart, 3. 2.41.3 | But lou'd their natiue flesh against all kind, 3. 2.41.4 | And to their purpose vsed wicked art: 3. 2.41.5 | Yet playd \Pasiphae|\ a more monstrous part, 3. 2.41.6 | That lou'd a Bull, and learnd a beast to bee; 3. 2.41.7 | Such shamefull lusts who loaths not, which depart 3. 2.41.8 | From course of nature and of modestie? 3. 2.41.9 | Sweet loue such lewdnes bands from his faire companie. 3. 2.42.1 | But thine my Deare (welfare thy heart my deare) 3. 2.42.2 | Though strange beginning had, yet fixed is 3. 2.42.3 | On one, that worthy may perhaps appeare; 3. 2.42.4 | And certes seemes bestowed not amis: 3. 2.42.5 | Ioy thereof haue thou and eternall blis. 3. 2.42.6 | With that vpleaning on her elbow weake, 3. 2.42.7 | Her alablaster brest she soft did kis, 3. 2.42.8 | Which all that while she felt to pant and quake, 3. 2.42.9 | As it an Earth-quake were; at last she thus bespake. 3. 2.43.1 | Beldame, your words doe worke me litle ease; 3. 2.43.2 | For though my loue be not so lewdly bent, 3. 2.43.3 | As those ye blame, yet may it nought appease 3. 2.43.4 | My raging smart, ne ought my flame relent, 3. 2.43.5 | But rather doth my helpelesse griefe augment. 3. 2.43.6 | For they, how euer shamefull and vnkind, 3. 2.43.7 | Yet did possesse their horrible intent: 3. 2.43.8 | Short end of sorrowes they thereby did find; 3. 2.43.9 | So was their fortune good, though wicked were their mind. 3. 2.44.1 | But wicked fortune mine, though mind be good, 3. 2.44.2 | Can haue no end, nor hope of my desire, 3. 2.44.3 | But feed on shadowes, whiles I die for food, 3. 2.44.4 | And like a shadow wexe, whiles with entire 3. 2.44.5 | Affection, I doe languish and expire. 3. 2.44.6 | I fonder, then \Cephisus\ foolish child, 3. 2.44.7 | Who hauing vewed in a fountaine shere 3. 2.44.8 | His face, was with the loue thereof beguild; 3. 2.44.9 | I fonder loue a shade, the bodie farre exild. 3. 2.45.1 | Nought like (quoth she) for that same wretched boy 3. 2.45.2 | Was of himselfe the idle Paramoure; 3. 2.45.3 | Both loue and louer, without hope of ioy, 3. 2.45.4 | For which he faded to a watry flowre. 3. 2.45.5 | But better fortune thine, and better howre, 3. 2.45.6 | Which lou'st the shadow of a warlike knight; 3. 2.45.7 | No shadow, but a bodie hath in powre: 3. 2.45.8 | That bodie, wheresoeuer that it light, 3. 2.45.9 | May learned be by cyphers, or by Magicke might. 3. 2.46.1 | But if thou may with reason yet represse 3. 2.46.2 | The growing euill, ere it strength haue got, 3. 2.46.3 | And thee abandond wholly doe possesse, 3. 2.46.4 | Against it strongly striue, and yield thee not, 3. 2.46.5 | Till thou in open field adowne be smot. 3. 2.46.6 | But if the passion mayster thy fraile might, 3. 2.46.7 | So that needs loue or death must be thy lot, 3. 2.46.8 | Then I auow to thee, by wrong or right 3. 2.46.9 | To compasse thy desire, and find that loued knight. 3. 2.47.1 | Her chearefull words much cheard the feeble spright 3. 2.47.2 | Of the sicke virgin, that her downe she layd 3. 2.47.3 | In her warme bed to sleepe, if that she might; 3. 2.47.4 | And the old-woman carefully displayd 3. 2.47.5 | The clothes about her round with busie ayd; 3. 2.47.6 | So that at last a little creeping sleepe 3. 2.47.7 | Surprisd her sense: She therewith well apayd, 3. 2.47.8 | The drunken lampe downe in the oyle did steepe, 3. 2.47.9 | And set her by to watch, and set her by to weepe. 3. 2.48.1 | Earely the morrow next, before that day 3. 2.48.2 | His ioyous face did to the world reueale, 3. 2.48.3 | They both vprose and tooke their readie way 3. 2.48.4 | Vnto the Church, their prayers to appeale, 3. 2.48.5 | With great deuotion, and with litle zeale: 3. 2.48.6 | For the faire Damzell from the holy herse 3. 2.48.7 | Her loue-sicke hart to other thoughts did steale; 3. 2.48.8 | And that old Dame said many an idle verse, 3. 2.48.9 | Out of her daughters hart fond fancies to reuerse. 3. 2.49.1 | Returned home, the royall Infant fell 3. 2.49.2 | Into her former fit; for why, no powre 3. 2.49.3 | Nor guidance of her selfe in her did dwell. 3. 2.49.4 | But th'=aged Nurse her calling to her bowre, 3. 2.49.5 | Had gathered Rew, and Sauine, and the flowre 3. 2.49.6 | Of \Camphora\, and Calamint, and Dill, 3. 2.49.7 | All which she in a earthen Pot did poure, 3. 2.49.8 | And to the brim with Colt wood did it fill, 3. 2.49.9 | And many drops of milke and bloud through it did spill. 3. 2.50.1 | Then taking thrise three haires from off her head, 3. 2.50.2 | Them trebly breaded in a threefold lace, 3. 2.50.3 | And round about the pots mouth, bound the thread, 3. 2.50.4 | And after hauing whispered a space 3. 2.50.5 | Certaine sad words, with hollow voice and bace, 3. 2.50.6 | She to the virgin said, thrise said she it; 3. 2.50.7 | Come daughter come, come; spit vpon my face, 3. 2.50.8 | Spit thrise vpon me, thrise vpon me spit; 3. 2.50.9 | Th'=vneuen number for this businesse is most fit. 3. 2.51.1 | That sayd, her round about she from her turnd, 3. 2.51.2 | She turned her contrarie to the Sunne, 3. 2.51.3 | Thrise she her turnd contrary, and returnd, 3. 2.51.4 | All contrary, for she the right did shunne, 3. 2.51.5 | And euer what she did, was streight vndonne. 3. 2.51.6 | So thought she to vndoe her daughters loue: 3. 2.51.7 | But loue, that is in gentle brest begonne, 3. 2.51.8 | No idle charmes so lightly may remoue, 3. 2.51.9 | That well can witnesse, who by triall it does proue. 3. 2.52.1 | Ne ought it mote the noble Mayd auayle, 3. 2.52.2 | Ne slake the furie of her cruell flame, 3. 2.52.3 | But that she still did waste, and still did wayle, 3. 2.52.4 | That through long languour, and hart-burning brame 3. 2.52.5 | She shortly like a pyned ghost became, 3. 2.52.6 | Which long hath waited by the Stygian strond. 3. 2.52.7 | That when old \Glauce\ saw, for feare least blame 3. 2.52.8 | Of her miscarriage should in her be fond, 3. 2.52.9 | She wist not how t'=amend, nor how it to withstond. 3. 3. A.1 | \Merlin bewrayes to Britomart,\ 3. 3. A.2 | \the state of Artegall.\ 3. 3. A.3 | \And shewes the famous Progeny\ 3. 3. A.4 | \which from them springen shall.\ 3. 3. 1.1 | Most sacred fire, that burnest mightily 3. 3. 1.2 | In liuing brests, ykindled first aboue, 3. 3. 1.3 | Emongst th'=eternall spheres and lamping sky, 3. 3. 1.4 | And thence pourd into men, which men call Loue; 3. 3. 1.5 | Not that same, which doth base affections moue 3. 3. 1.6 | In brutish minds, and filthy lust inflame, 3. 3. 1.7 | But that sweet fit, that doth true beautie loue, 3. 3. 1.8 | And choseth vertue for his dearest Dame, 3. 3. 1.9 | Whence spring all noble deeds and neuer dying fame: 3. 3. 2.1 | Well did Antiquitie a God thee deeme, 3. 3. 2.2 | That ouer mortall minds hast so great might, 3. 3. 2.3 | To order them, as best to thee doth seeme, 3. 3. 2.4 | And all their actions to direct aright; 3. 3. 2.5 | The fatall purpose of diuine foresight, 3. 3. 2.6 | Thou doest effect in destined descents, 3. 3. 2.7 | Through deepe impression of thy secret might, 3. 3. 2.8 | And stirredst vp th'=Heroes high intents, 3. 3. 2.9 | Which the late world admyres for wondrous moniments. 3. 3. 3.1 | But thy dread darts in none doe triumph more, 3. 3. 3.2 | Ne brauer proofe in any, of thy powre 3. 3. 3.3 | Shew'dst thou, then in this royall Maid of yore, 3. 3. 3.4 | Making her seeke an vnknowne Paramoure, 3. 3. 3.5 | From the worlds end, through many a bitter stowre: 3. 3. 3.6 | From whose two loynes thou afterwards did rayse 3. 3. 3.7 | Most famous fruits of matrimoniall bowre, 3. 3. 3.8 | Which through the earth haue spred their liuing prayse, 3. 3. 3.9 | That fame in trompe of gold eternally displayes. 3. 3. 4.1 | Begin then, O my dearest sacred Dame, 3. 3. 4.2 | Daughter of \Pho+ebus\ and of \Memorie\, 3. 3. 4.3 | That doest ennoble with immortall name 3. 3. 4.4 | The warlike Worthies, from antiquitie, 3. 3. 4.5 | In thy great volume of Eternitie: 3. 3. 4.6 | Begin, O \Clio\, and recount from hence 3. 3. 4.7 | My glorious Soueraines goodly auncestrie, 3. 3. 4.8 | Till that by dew degrees and long protense, 3. 3. 4.9 | Thou haue it lastly brought vnto her Excellence. 3. 3. 5.1 | Full many wayes within her troubled mind, 3. 3. 5.2 | Old \Glauce\ cast, to cure this Ladies griefe: 3. 3. 5.3 | Full many waies she sought, but none could find, 3. 3. 5.4 | Nor herbes, nor charmes, nor counsell, that is chiefe 3. 3. 5.5 | And choisest med'cine for sicke harts reliefe: 3. 3. 5.6 | For thy great care she tooke, and greater feare, 3. 3. 5.7 | Least that it should her turne to foule repriefe, 3. 3. 5.8 | And sore reproch, when so her father deare 3. 3. 5.9 | Should of his dearest daughters hard misfortune heare. 3. 3. 6.1 | At last she her auisd, that he, which made 3. 3. 6.2 | That mirrhour, wherein the sicke Damosell 3. 3. 6.3 | So straungely vewed her straunge louers shade, 3. 3. 6.4 | To weet, the learned \Merlin\, well could tell, 3. 3. 6.5 | Vnder what coast of heauen the man did dwell, 3. 3. 6.6 | And by what meanes his loue might best be wrought: 3. 3. 6.7 | For though beyond the \Africk Ismaell\, 3. 3. 6.8 | Or th'=Indian \Peru\ he were, she thought 3. 3. 6.9 | Him forth through infinite endeuour to haue sought. 3. 3. 7.1 | Forthwith themselues disguising both in straunge 3. 3. 7.2 | And base attyre, that none might them bewray, 3. 3. 7.3 | To \Maridunum\, that is now by chaunge 3. 3. 7.4 | Of name \Cayr-Merdin\ cald, they tooke their way: 3. 3. 7.5 | There the wise \Merlin\ whylome wont (they say) 3. 3. 7.6 | To make his wonne, low vnderneath the ground, 3. 3. 7.7 | In a deepe delue, farre from the vew of day, 3. 3. 7.8 | That of no liuing wight he mote be found, 3. 3. 7.9 | When so he counseld with his sprights encompast round. 3. 3. 8.1 | And if thou euer happen that same way 3. 3. 8.2 | To trauell, goe to see that dreadfull place: 3. 3. 8.3 | It is an hideous hollow caue (they say) 3. 3. 8.4 | Vnder a rocke that lyes a little space 3. 3. 8.5 | From the swift \Barry\, tombling downe apace, 3. 3. 8.6 | Emongst the woodie hilles of \Dyneuowre:\ 3. 3. 8.7 | But dare thou not, I charge, in any cace, 3. 3. 8.8 | To enter into that same balefull Bowre, 3. 3. 8.9 | For fear the cruell Feends should thee vnwares deuowre. 3. 3. 9.1 | But standing high aloft, low lay thine eare, 3. 3. 9.2 | And there such ghastly noise of yron chaines, 3. 3. 9.3 | And brasen Caudrons thou shalt rombling heare, 3. 3. 9.4 | Which thousand sprights with long enduring paines 3. 3. 9.5 | Doe tosse, that it will stonne thy feeble braines, 3. 3. 9.6 | And oftentimes great grones, and grieuous stounds, 3. 3. 9.7 | When too huge toile and labour them constraines: 3. 3. 9.8 | And oftentimes loud strokes, and ringing sounds 3. 3. 9.9 | From vnder that deepe Rocke most horribly rebounds. 3. 3.10.1 | The cause some say is this: A litle while 3. 3.10.2 | Before that \Merlin\ dyde, he did intend, 3. 3.10.3 | A brasen wall in compas to compile 3. 3.10.4 | About \Cairmardin\, and did it commend 3. 3.10.5 | Vnto these Sprights, to bring to perfect end. 3. 3.10.6 | During which worke the Ladie of the Lake, 3. 3.10.7 | Whom long he lou'd, for him in hast did send, 3. 3.10.8 | Who thereby forst his workemen to forsake, 3. 3.10.9 | Them bound till his returne, their labour not to slake. 3. 3.11.1 | In the meane time through that false Ladies traine, 3. 3.11.2 | He was surprisd, and buried vnder beare, 3. 3.11.3 | Ne euer to his worke returnd againe: 3. 3.11.4 | Nath'lesse those feends may not their worke forbeare, 3. 3.11.5 | So greatly his commaundement they feare, 3. 3.11.6 | But there doe toyle and trauell day and night, 3. 3.11.7 | Vntill that brasen wall they vp doe reare: 3. 3.11.8 | For \Merlin\ had in Magicke more insight, 3. 3.11.9 | Then euer him before or after liuing wight. 3. 3.12.1 | For he by words could call out of the sky 3. 3.12.2 | Both Sunne and Moone, and make them him obay: 3. 3.12.3 | The land to sea, and sea to maineland dry, 3. 3.12.4 | And darkesome night he eke could turne to day: 3. 3.12.5 | Huge hostes of men he could alone dismay, 3. 3.12.6 | And hostes of men of meanest things could frame, 3. 3.12.7 | When so him list his enimies to fray: 3. 3.12.8 | That to this day for terror of his fame, 3. 3.12.9 | The feends do quake, when any him to them does name. 3. 3.13.1 | And sooth, men say that he was not the sonne 3. 3.13.2 | Of mortall Syre, or other liuing wight, 3. 3.13.3 | But wondrously begotten, and begonne 3. 3.13.4 | By false illusion of a guilefull Spright, 3. 3.13.5 | On a faire Ladie Nonne, that whilome hight 3. 3.13.6 | \Matilda\, daughter to \Pubidius\, 3. 3.13.7 | Who was the Lord of \Mathrauall\ by right, 3. 3.13.8 | And coosen vnto king \Ambrosius\: 3. 3.13.9 | Whence he indued was with skill so maruellous. 3. 3.14.1 | They here ariuing, staid a while without, 3. 3.14.2 | Ne durst aduenture rashly in to wend, 3. 3.14.3 | But of their first intent gan make new dout 3. 3.14.4 | For dread of daunger, which it might portend: 3. 3.14.5 | Vntill the hardie Mayd (with loue to frend) 3. 3.14.6 | First entering, the dreadfull Mage there found 3. 3.14.7 | Deepe busied bout worke of wondrous end, 3. 3.14.8 | And writing strange characters in the ground, 3. 3.14.9 | With which the stubborn feends he to his seruice bound. 3. 3.15.1 | He nought was moued at their entrance bold: 3. 3.15.2 | For of their comming well he wist afore, 3. 3.15.3 | Yet list them bid their businesse to vnfold, 3. 3.15.4 | As if ought in this world in secret store 3. 3.15.5 | Were from him hidden, or vnknowne of yore. 3. 3.15.6 | Then \Glauce\ thus, Let not it thee offend, 3. 3.15.7 | That we thus rashly through thy darkesome dore, 3. 3.15.8 | Vnwares haue prest: for either fatall end, 3. 3.15.9 | Or other mightie cause vs two did hither send. 3. 3.16.1 | He bad tell on; And then she thus began. 3. 3.16.2 | Now haue three Moones with borrow'd brothers light, 3. 3.16.3 | Thrice shined faire, and thrice seem'd dim and wan, 3. 3.16.4 | Sith a sore euill, which this virgin bright 3. 3.16.5 | Tormenteth, and doth plonge in dolefull plight, 3. 3.16.6 | First rooting tooke; but what thing it mote bee, 3. 3.16.7 | Or whence it sprong, I cannot read aright: 3. 3.16.8 | But this I read, that but if remedee 3. 3.16.9 | Thou her afford, full shortly I her dead shall see. 3. 3.17.1 | Therewith th'=Enchaunter softly gan to smyle 3. 3.17.2 | At her smooth speeches, weeting inly well, 3. 3.17.3 | That she to him dissembled womanish guyle, 3. 3.17.4 | And to her said, Beldame, by that ye tell, 3. 3.17.5 | More need of leach-craft hath your Damozell, 3. 3.17.6 | Then of my skill: who helpe may haue elsewhere, 3. 3.17.7 | In vaine seekes wonders out of Magicke spell. 3. 3.17.8 | Th'=old woman wox half blanck, those words to heare; 3. 3.17.9 | And yet was loth to let her purpose plaine appeare. 3. 3.18.1 | And to him said, If any leaches skill, 3. 3.18.2 | Or other learned meanes could haue redrest 3. 3.18.3 | This my deare daughters deepe engraffed ill, 3. 3.18.4 | Certes I should be loth thee to molest: 3. 3.18.5 | But this sad euill, which doth her infest, 3. 3.18.6 | Doth course of naturall cause farre exceed, 3. 3.18.7 | And housed is within her hollow brest, 3. 3.18.8 | That either seemes some cursed witches deed, 3. 3.18.9 | Or euill spright, that in her doth such torment breed. 3. 3.19.1 | The wisard could no lenger beare her bord, 3. 3.19.2 | But brusting forth in laughter, to her sayd; 3. 3.19.3 | \Glauce\, what needs this colourable word, 3. 3.19.4 | To cloke the cause, that hath it selfe bewrayd? 3. 3.19.5 | Ne ye faire \Britomartis\, thus arayd, 3. 3.19.6 | More hidden are, then Sunne in cloudy vele; 3. 3.19.7 | Whom thy good fortune, hauing fate obayd, 3. 3.19.8 | Hath hither brought, for succour to appele: 3. 3.19.9 | The which the powres to thee are pleased to reuele. 3. 3.20.1 | The doubtfull Mayd, seeing her selfe descryde, 3. 3.20.2 | Was all abasht, and her pure yuory 3. 3.20.3 | Into a cleare Carnation suddeine dyde; 3. 3.20.4 | As faire \Aurora\ rising hastily, 3. 3.20.5 | Doth by her blushing tell, that she did lye 3. 3.20.6 | All night in old \Tithonus\ frosen bed, 3. 3.20.7 | Whereof she seemes ashamed inwardly. 3. 3.20.8 | But her old Nourse was nought dishartened, 3. 3.20.9 | But vauntage made of that, which \Merlin\ had ared. 3. 3.21.1 | And sayd, Sith then thou knowest all our griefe, 3. 3.21.2 | (For what doest not thou know?) of grace I pray, 3. 3.21.3 | Pitty our plaint, and yield vs meet reliefe. 3. 3.21.4 | With that the Prophet still awhile did stay, 3. 3.21.5 | And then his spirite thus gan forth display; 3. 3.21.6 | Most noble Virgin, that by fatall lore 3. 3.21.7 | Hast learn'd to loue, let no whit thee dismay 3. 3.21.8 | The hard begin, that meets thee in the dore, 3. 3.21.9 | And with sharpe fits thy tender hart oppresseth sore. 3. 3.22.1 | For so must all things excellent begin, 3. 3.22.2 | And eke enrooted deepe must be that Tree, 3. 3.22.3 | Whose big embodied braunches shall not lin, 3. 3.22.4 | Till they to heauens hight forth stretched bee. 3. 3.22.5 | For from thy wombe a famous Progenie 3. 3.22.6 | Shall spring, out of the auncient \Troian\ blood, 3. 3.22.7 | Which shall reuiue the sleeping memorie 3. 3.22.8 | Of those same antique Peres, the heauens brood, 3. 3.22.9 | Which \Greeke\ and \Asian\ riuers stained with their blood. 3. 3.23.1 | Renowmed kings, and sacred Emperours, 3. 3.23.2 | Thy fruitfull Ofspring, shall from thee descend; 3. 3.23.3 | Braue Captaines, and most mighty warriours, 3. 3.23.4 | That shall their conquests through all lands extend, 3. 3.23.5 | And their decayed kingdomes shall amend: 3. 3.23.6 | The feeble Britons, broken with long warre, 3. 3.23.7 | They shall vpreare, and mightily defend 3. 3.23.8 | Against their forrein foe, that comes from farre, 3. 3.23.9 | Till vniuersall peace compound all ciuill iarre. 3. 3.24.1 | It was not, \Britomart\, thy wandring eye, 3. 3.24.2 | Glauncing vnwares in charmed looking glas, 3. 3.24.3 | But the streight course of heauenly destiny, 3. 3.24.4 | Led with eternall prouidence, that has 3. 3.24.5 | Guided thy glaunce, to bring his will to pas: 3. 3.24.6 | Ne is thy fate, ne is thy fortune ill, 3. 3.24.7 | To loue the prowest knight, that euer was. 3. 3.24.8 | Therefore submit thy wayes vnto his will, 3. 3.24.9 | And do by all dew meanes thy destiny fulfill. 3. 3.25.1 | But read (said \Glauce\) thou Magitian 3. 3.25.2 | What meanes shall she out seeke, or what wayes take? 3. 3.25.3 | How shall she know, how shall she find the man? 3. 3.25.4 | Or what needs her to toyle, sith fates can make 3. 3.25.5 | Way for themselues, their purpose to partake? 3. 3.25.6 | Then \Merlin\ thus; Indeed the fates are firme, 3. 3.25.7 | And may not shrinck, though all the world do shake: 3. 3.25.8 | Yet ought mens good endeuours them confirme, 3. 3.25.9 | And guide the heauenly causes to their constant terme. 3. 3.26.1 | The man whom heauens haue ordaynd to bee 3. 3.26.2 | The spouse of \Britomart\, is \Arthegall\: 3. 3.26.3 | He wonneth in the land of \Fayeree\, 3. 3.26.4 | Yet is no \Fary\ borne, ne sib at all 3. 3.26.5 | To Elfes, but sprong of seed terrestriall, 3. 3.26.6 | And whilome by false \Faries\ stolne away, 3. 3.26.7 | Whiles yet in infant cradle he did crall; 3. 3.26.8 | Ne other to himselfe is knowne this day, 3. 3.26.9 | But that he by an Elfe was gotten of a \Fay\. 3. 3.27.1 | But sooth he is the sonne of \Gorlois\, 3. 3.27.2 | And brother vnto \Cador\ Cornish king, 3. 3.27.3 | And for his warlike feates renowmed is, 3. 3.27.4 | From where the day out of the sea doth spring, 3. 3.27.5 | Vntill the closure of the Euening. 3. 3.27.6 | From thence, him firmely bound with faithfull band, 3. 3.27.7 | To this his natiue soyle thou backe shalt bring, 3. 3.27.8 | Strongly to aide his countrey, to withstand 3. 3.27.9 | The powre of forrein Paynims, which inuade thy land. 3. 3.28.1 | Great aid thereto his mighty puissaunce, 3. 3.28.2 | And dreaded name shall giue in that sad day: 3. 3.28.3 | Where also proofe of thy prow valiaunce 3. 3.28.4 | Thou then shalt make, t'=increase thy louers pray. 3. 3.28.5 | Long time ye both in armes shall beare great sway, 3. 3.28.6 | Till thy wombes burden thee from them do call, 3. 3.28.7 | And his last fate him from thee take away, 3. 3.28.8 | Too rathe cut off by practise criminall 3. 3.28.9 | Of secret foes, that him shall make in mischiefe fall. 3. 3.29.1 | With thee yet shall he leaue for memory 3. 3.29.2 | Of his late puissaunce, his Image dead, 3. 3.29.3 | That liuing him in all actiuity 3. 3.29.4 | To thee shall represent. He from the head 3. 3.29.5 | Of his coosin \Constantius\ without dread 3. 3.29.6 | Shall take the crowne, that was his fathers right, 3. 3.29.7 | And therewith crowne himselfe in th'=others stead: 3. 3.29.8 | Then shall he issew forth with dreadfull might, 3. 3.29.9 | Against his Saxon foes in bloudy field to fight. 3. 3.30.1 | Like as a Lyon, that in drowsie caue 3. 3.30.2 | Hath long time slept, himselfe so shall he shake, 3. 3.30.3 | And comming forth, shall spred his banner braue 3. 3.30.4 | Ouer the troubled South, that it shall make 3. 3.30.5 | The warlike \Mertians\ for feare to quake: 3. 3.30.6 | Thrise shall he fight with them, and twise shall win, 3. 3.30.7 | But the third time shall faire accordaunce make: 3. 3.30.8 | And if he then with victorie can lin, 3. 3.30.9 | He shall his dayes with peace bring to his earthly In. 3. 3.31.1 | His sonne, hight \Vortipore\, shall him succeede 3. 3.31.2 | In kingdome, but not in felicity; 3. 3.31.3 | Yet shall he long time warre with happy speed, 3. 3.31.4 | And with great honour many battels try: 3. 3.31.5 | But at the last to th'=importunity 3. 3.31.6 | Of froward fortune shall be forst to yield. 3. 3.31.7 | But his sonne \Malgo\ shall full mightily 3. 3.31.8 | Auenge his fathers losse, with speare and shield, 3. 3.31.9 | And his proud foes discomfit in victorious field. 3. 3.32.1 | Behold the man, and tell me \Britomart\, 3. 3.32.2 | If ay more goodly creature thou didst see; 3. 3.32.3 | How like a Gyaunt in each manly part 3. 3.32.4 | Beares he himselfe with portly maiestee, 3. 3.32.5 | That one of th'=old \Heroes\ seemes to bee: 3. 3.32.6 | He the six Islands, comprouinciall 3. 3.32.7 | In auncient times vnto great Britainee, 3. 3.32.8 | Shall to the same reduce, and to him call 3. 3.32.9 | Their sundry kings to do their homage seuerall. 3. 3.33.1 | All which his sonne \Careticus\ awhile 3. 3.33.2 | Shall well defend, and \Saxons\ powre suppresse, 3. 3.33.3 | Vntill a straunger king from vnknowne soyle 3. 3.33.4 | Arriuing, him with multitude oppresse; 3. 3.33.5 | Great \Gormond\, hauing with huge mightinesse 3. 3.33.6 | Ireland subdewd, and therein fixt his throne, 3. 3.33.7 | Like a swift Otter, fell through emptinesse, 3. 3.33.8 | Shall ouerswim the sea with many one 3. 3.33.9 | Of his Norueyses, to assist the Britons fone. 3. 3.34.1 | He in his furie all shall ouerrunne, 3. 3.34.2 | And holy Church with faithlesse hands deface, 3. 3.34.3 | That thy sad people vtterly fordonne, 3. 3.34.4 | Shall to the vtmost mountaines fly apace: 3. 3.34.5 | Was neuer so great wast in any place, 3. 3.34.6 | Nor so fowle outrage doen by liuing men: 3. 3.34.7 | For all thy Cities they shall sacke and race, 3. 3.34.8 | And the greene grasse, that groweth, they shall bren, 3. 3.34.9 | That euen the wild beast shall dy in starued den. 3. 3.35.1 | Whiles thus thy Britons do in languour pine, 3. 3.35.2 | Proud \Etheldred\ shall from the North arise, 3. 3.35.3 | Seruing th'=ambitious will of \Augustine\, 3. 3.35.4 | And passing \Dee\ with hardy enterprise, 3. 3.35.5 | Shall backe repulse the valiaunt \Brockwell\ twise, 3. 3.35.6 | And \Bangor\ with massacred Martyrs fill; 3. 3.35.7 | But the third time shall rew his foolhardise: 3. 3.35.8 | For \Cadwan\ pittying his peoples ill, 3. 3.35.9 | Shall stoutly him defeat, and thousand \Saxons\ kill. 3. 3.36.1 | But after him, \Cadwallin\ mightily 3. 3.36.2 | On his sonne \Edwin\ all those wrongs shall wreake; 3. 3.36.3 | Ne shall auaile the wicked sorcery 3. 3.36.4 | Of false \Pellite\, his purposes to breake, 3. 3.36.5 | But him shall slay, and on a gallowes bleake 3. 3.36.6 | Shall giue th'=enchaunter his vnhappy hire; 3. 3.36.7 | Then shall the Britons, late dismayd and weake, 3. 3.36.8 | From their long vassalage gin to respire, 3. 3.36.9 | And on their Paynim foes auenge their ranckled ire. 3. 3.37.1 | Ne shall he yet his wrath so mitigate, 3. 3.37.2 | Till both the sonnes of \Edwin\ he haue slaine, 3. 3.37.3 | \Offricke\ and \Osricke\, twinnes vnfortunate, 3. 3.37.4 | Both slaine in battell vpon Layburne plaine, 3. 3.37.5 | Together with the king of \Louthiane\, 3. 3.37.6 | Hight \Adin\, and the king of \Orkeny\, 3. 3.37.7 | Both ioynt partakers of their fatall paine: 3. 3.37.8 | But \Penda\, fearefull of like desteny, 3. 3.37.9 | Shall yield him selfe his liegeman, and sweare fealty. 3. 3.38.1 | Him shall he make his fatall Instrument, 3. 3.38.2 | T'=afflict the other \Saxons\ vnsubdewd; 3. 3.38.3 | He marching forth with fury insolent 3. 3.38.4 | Against the good king \Oswald\, who indewd 3. 3.38.5 | With heauenly powre, and by Angels reskewd, 3. 3.38.6 | All holding crosses in their hands on hye, 3. 3.38.7 | Shall him defeate withouten bloud imbrewd: 3. 3.38.8 | Of which, that field for endlesse memory, 3. 3.38.9 | Shall \Heuenfield\ be cald to all posterity. 3. 3.39.1 | Where at \Cadwallin\ wroth, shall forth issew, 3. 3.39.2 | And an huge hoste into Northumber lead, 3. 3.39.3 | With which he godly \Oswald\ shall subdew, 3. 3.39.4 | And crowne with martyrdome his sacred head. 3. 3.39.5 | Whose brother \Oswin\, daunted with like dread, 3. 3.39.6 | With price of siluer shall his kingdome buy, 3. 3.39.7 | And \Penda\, seeking him adowne to tread, 3. 3.39.8 | Shall tread adowne, and do him fowly dye, 3. 3.39.9 | But shall with gifts his Lord \Cadwallin\ pacify. 3. 3.40.1 | Then shall \Cadwallin\ dye, and then the raine 3. 3.40.2 | Of \Britons\ eke with him attonce shall dye; 3. 3.40.3 | Ne shall the good \Cadwallader\ with paine, 3. 3.40.4 | Or powre, be hable it to remedy, 3. 3.40.5 | When the full time prefixt by destiny, 3. 3.40.6 | Shalbe expird of \Britons\ regiment. 3. 3.40.7 | For heauen it selfe shall their successe enuy, 3. 3.40.8 | And them with plagues and murrins pestilent 3. 3.40.9 | Consume, till all their warlike puissaunce be spent. 3. 3.41.1 | Yet after all these sorrowes, and huge hills 3. 3.41.2 | Of dying people, during eight yeares space, 3. 3.41.3 | \Cadwallader\ not yielding to his ills, 3. 3.41.4 | From \Armoricke\, where long in wretched cace 3. 3.41.5 | He liu'd, returning to his natiue place, 3. 3.41.6 | Shalbe by vision staid from his intent: 3. 3.41.7 | For th'=heauens haue decreed, to displace 3. 3.41.8 | The \Britons\, for their sinnes dew punishment, 3. 3.41.9 | And to the \Saxons\ ouer-giue their gouernment. 3. 3.42.1 | Then woe, and woe, and euerlasting woe, 3. 3.42.2 | Be to the Briton babe, that shalbe borne, 3. 3.42.3 | To liue in thraldome of his fathers foe; 3. 3.42.4 | Late King, now captiue, late Lord, now forlorne, 3. 3.42.5 | The worlds reproch, the cruell victors scorne, 3. 3.42.6 | Banisht from Princely bowre to wastfull wood: 3. 3.42.7 | O who shall helpe me to lament, and mourne 3. 3.42.8 | The royall seed, the antique \Troian\ blood, 3. 3.42.9 | Whose Empire lenger here, then euer any stood. 3. 3.43.1 | The Damzell was full deepe empassioned, 3. 3.43.2 | Both for his griefe, and for her peoples sake, 3. 3.43.3 | Whose future woes so plaine he fashioned, 3. 3.43.4 | And sighing sore, at length him thus bespake; 3. 3.43.5 | Ah but will heauens fury neuer slake, 3. 3.43.6 | Nor vengeaunce huge relent it selfe at last? 3. 3.43.7 | Will not long misery late mercy make, 3. 3.43.8 | But shall their name for euer be defast, 3. 3.43.9 | And quite from of the earth their memory be rast? 3. 3.44.1 | Nay but the terme (said he) is limited, 3. 3.44.2 | That in this thraldome \Britons\ shall abide, 3. 3.44.3 | And the iust reuolution measured, 3. 3.44.4 | That they as Straungers shalbe notifide. 3. 3.44.5 | For twise foure hundreth yeares shalbe supplide, 3. 3.44.6 | Ere they to former rule restor'd shalbee, 3. 3.44.7 | And their importune fates all satisfide: 3. 3.44.8 | Yet during this their most obscuritee, 3. 3.44.9 | Their beames shall oft breake forth, that men them faire may see. 3. 3.45.1 | For \Rhodoricke\, whose surname shalbe Great, 3. 3.45.2 | Shall of him selfe a braue ensample shew, 3. 3.45.3 | That Saxon kings his friendship shall intreat; 3. 3.45.4 | And \Howell Dha\ shall goodly well indew 3. 3.45.5 | The saluage minds with skill of iust and trew; 3. 3.45.6 | Then \Griffyth Conan\ also shall vp reare 3. 3.45.7 | His dreaded head, and the old sparkes renew 3. 3.45.8 | Of natiue courage, that his foes shall feare, 3. 3.45.9 | Least backe againe the kingdome he from them should beare. 3. 3.46.1 | Ne shall the Saxons selues all peaceably 3. 3.46.2 | Enioy the crowne, which they from Britons wonne 3. 3.46.3 | First ill, and after ruled wickedly: 3. 3.46.4 | For ere two hundred yeares be full outronne, 3. 3.46.5 | There shall a Rauen far from rising Sunne, 3. 3.46.6 | With his wide wings vpon them fiercely fly, 3. 3.46.7 | And bid his faithlesse chickens ouerronne 3. 3.46.8 | The fruitfull plaines, and with fell cruelty, 3. 3.46.9 | In their auenge, tread downe the victours surquedry. 3. 3.47.1 | Yet shall a third both these, and thine subdew; 3. 3.47.2 | There shall a Lyon from the sea-bord wood 3. 3.47.3 | Of \Neustria\ come roring, with a crew 3. 3.47.4 | Of hungry whelpes, his battailous bold brood, 3. 3.47.5 | Whose clawes were newly dipt in cruddy blood, 3. 3.47.6 | That from the Daniske Tyrants head shall rend 3. 3.47.7 | Th'=vsurped crowne, as if that he were wood, 3. 3.47.8 | And the spoile of the countrey conquered 3. 3.47.9 | Emongst his young ones shall diuide with bountyhed. 3. 3.48.1 | Tho when the terme is full accomplishid, 3. 3.48.2 | There shall a sparke of fire, which hath long-while 3. 3.48.3 | Bene in his ashes raked vp, and hid, 3. 3.48.4 | Be freshly kindled in the fruitfull Ile 3. 3.48.5 | Of \Mona\, where it lurked in exile; 3. 3.48.6 | Which shall breake forth into bright burning flame, 3. 3.48.7 | And reach into the house, that beares the stile 3. 3.48.8 | Of royall maiesty and soueraigne name; 3. 3.48.9 | So shall the Briton bloud their crowne againe reclame. 3. 3.49.1 | Thenceforth eternall vnion shall be made 3. 3.49.2 | Betweene the nations different afore, 3. 3.49.3 | And sacred Peace shall louingly perswade 3. 3.49.4 | The warlike minds, to learne her goodly lore, 3. 3.49.5 | And ciuile armes to exercise no more: 3. 3.49.6 | Then shall a royall virgin raine, which shall 3. 3.49.7 | Stretch her white rod ouer the \Belgicke\ shore, 3. 3.49.8 | And the great Castle smite so sore with all, 3. 3.49.9 | That it shall make him shake, and shortly learne to fall. 3. 3.50.1 | But yet the end is not. There \Merlin\ stayd, 3. 3.50.2 | As ouercomen of the spirites powre, 3. 3.50.3 | Or other ghastly spectacle dismayd, 3. 3.50.4 | That secretly he saw, yet note discoure: 3. 3.50.5 | Which suddein fit, and halfe extatick stoure 3. 3.50.6 | When the two fearefull women saw, they grew 3. 3.50.7 | Greatly confused in behauioure; 3. 3.50.8 | At last the fury past, to former hew 3. 3.50.9 | Hee turnd againe, and chearefull looks {<}as earst{>} did shew. 3. 3.51.1 | Then, when them selues they well instructed had 3. 3.51.2 | Of all, that needed them to be inquird, 3. 3.51.3 | They both conceiuing hope of comfort glad, 3. 3.51.4 | With lighter hearts vnto their home retird; 3. 3.51.5 | Where they in secret counsell close conspird, 3. 3.51.6 | How to effect so hard an enterprize, 3. 3.51.7 | And to possesse the purpose they desird: 3. 3.51.8 | Now this, now that twixt them they did deuise, 3. 3.51.9 | And diuerse plots did frame, to maske in strange disguise. 3. 3.52.1 | At last the Nourse in her foolhardy wit 3. 3.52.2 | Conceiu'd a bold deuise, and thus bespake; 3. 3.52.3 | Daughter, I deeme that counsell aye most fit, 3. 3.52.4 | That of the time doth dew aduauntage take; 3. 3.52.5 | Ye see that good king \Vther\ now doth make 3. 3.52.6 | Strong warre vpon the Paynim brethren, hight 3. 3.52.7 | \Octa\ and \Oza\, whom he lately brake 3. 3.52.8 | Beside \Cayr Verolame\, in victorious fight, 3. 3.52.9 | That now all \Britanie\ doth burne in armes bright. 3. 3.53.1 | That therefore nought our passage may empeach, 3. 3.53.2 | Let vs in feigned armes our selues disguize, 3. 3.53.3 | And our weake hands (whom need new strength shall teach) 3. 3.53.4 | The dreadfull speare and shield to exercize: 3. 3.53.5 | Ne certes daughter that same warlike wize 3. 3.53.6 | I weene, would you misseeme; for ye bene tall, 3. 3.53.7 | And large of limbe, t'=atchieue an hard emprize, 3. 3.53.8 | Ne ought ye want, but skill, which practize small 3. 3.53.9 | Will bring, and shortly make you a mayd Martiall. 3. 3.54.1 | And sooth, it ought your courage much inflame, 3. 3.54.2 | To heare so often, in that royall hous, 3. 3.54.3 | From whence to none inferiour ye came, 3. 3.54.4 | Bards tell of many women valorous 3. 3.54.5 | Which haue full many feats aduenturous 3. 3.54.6 | Performd, in paragone of proudest men: 3. 3.54.7 | The bold \Bunduca\, whose victorious 3. 3.54.8 | Exploits made \Rome\ to quake, stout \Guendolen\, 3. 3.54.9 | Renowmed \Martia\, and redoubted \Emmilen\. 3. 3.55.1 | And that, which more then all the rest may sway, 3. 3.55.2 | Late dayes ensample, which these eyes beheld, 3. 3.55.3 | In the last field before \Meneuia\ 3. 3.55.4 | Which \Vther\ with those forrein Pagans held, 3. 3.55.5 | I saw a \Saxon\ Virgin, the which feld 3. 3.55.6 | Great \Vlfin\ thrise vpon the bloudy plaine, 3. 3.55.7 | And had not \Carados\ her hand withheld 3. 3.55.8 | From rash reuenge, she had him surely slaine, 3. 3.55.9 | Yet \Carados\ himselfe from her escapt with paine. 3. 3.56.1 | Ah read, (quoth \Britomart\) how is she hight? 3. 3.56.2 | Faire \Angela\ (quoth she) men do her call, 3. 3.56.3 | No whit lesse faire, then terrible in fight: 3. 3.56.4 | She hath the leading of a Martiall 3. 3.56.5 | And mighty people, dreaded more then all 3. 3.56.6 | The other \Saxons\, which do for her sake 3. 3.56.7 | And loue, themselues of her name \Angles\ call. 3. 3.56.8 | Therefore faire Infant her ensample make 3. 3.56.9 | Vnto thy selfe, and equall courage to thee take. 3. 3.57.1 | Her harty words so deepe into the mynd 3. 3.57.2 | Of the young Damzell sunke, that great desire 3. 3.57.3 | Of warlike armes in her forthwith they tynd, 3. 3.57.4 | And generous stout courage did inspire, 3. 3.57.5 | That she resolu'd, vnweeting to her Sire, 3. 3.57.6 | Aduent'rous knighthood on her selfe to don, 3. 3.57.7 | And counseld with her Nourse, her Maides attire 3. 3.57.8 | To turne into a massy habergeon, 3. 3.57.9 | And bad her all things put in readinesse anon. 3. 3.58.1 | Th'=old woman nought, that needed, did omit; 3. 3.58.2 | But all things did conueniently puruay: 3. 3.58.3 | It fortuned (so time their turne did fit) 3. 3.58.4 | A band of Britons ryding on forray 3. 3.58.5 | Few dayes before, had gotten a great pray 3. 3.58.6 | Of Saxon goods, emongst the which was seene 3. 3.58.7 | A goodly Armour, and full rich aray, 3. 3.58.8 | Which long'd to \Angela\, the Saxon Queene, 3. 3.58.9 | All fretted round with gold, and goodly well beseene. 3. 3.59.1 | The same, with all the other ornaments, 3. 3.59.2 | King \Ryence\ caused to be hanged hy 3. 3.59.3 | In his chiefe Church, for endlesse moniments 3. 3.59.4 | Of his successe and gladfull victory: 3. 3.59.5 | Of which her selfe auising readily, 3. 3.59.6 | In th'=euening late old \Glauce\ thither led 3. 3.59.7 | Faire \Britomart\, and that same Armory 3. 3.59.8 | Downe taking, her therein appareled, 3. 3.59.9 | Well as she might, and with braue bauldrick garnished. 3. 3.60.1 | Beside those armes there stood a mighty speare, 3. 3.60.2 | Which \Bladud\ made by Magick art of yore, 3. 3.60.3 | And vsd the same in battell aye to beare; 3. 3.60.4 | Sith which it had bin here preseru'd in store, 3. 3.60.5 | For his great vertues proued long afore: 3. 3.60.6 | For neuer wight so fast in sell could sit, 3. 3.60.7 | But him perforce vnto the ground it bore: 3. 3.60.8 | Both speare she tooke, and shield, which hong by it: 3. 3.60.9 | Both speare and shield of great powre, for her purpose fit. 3. 3.61.1 | Thus when she had the virgin all arayd, 3. 3.61.2 | Another harnesse, which did hang thereby, 3. 3.61.3 | About her selfe she dight, that the young Mayd 3. 3.61.4 | She might in equall armes accompany, 3. 3.61.5 | And as her Squire attend her carefully: 3. 3.61.6 | Tho to their ready Steeds they clombe full light, 3. 3.61.7 | And through back wayes, that none might them espy, 3. 3.61.8 | Couered with secret cloud of silent night, 3. 3.61.9 | Themselues they forth conuayd, and passed forward right. 3. 3.62.1 | Ne rested they, till that to Faery lond 3. 3.62.2 | They came, as \Merlin\ them directed late: 3. 3.62.3 | Where meeting with this \Redcrosse\ knight, she fond 3. 3.62.4 | Of diuerse things discourses to dilate, 3. 3.62.5 | But most of \Arthegall\, and his estate. 3. 3.62.6 | At last their wayes so fell, that they mote part: 3. 3.62.7 | Then each to other well affectionate, 3. 3.62.8 | Friendship professed with vnfained hart, 3. 3.62.9 | The \Redcrosse\ knight diuerst, but forth rode \Britomart\. 3. 4. A.1 | \Bold Marinell of Britomart,\ 3. 4. A.2 | \Is throwne on the Rich strond:\ 3. 4. A.3 | \Faire Florimell of Arthur is\ 3. 4. A.4 | \Long followed, but not fond.\ 3. 4. 1.1 | Where is the Antique glory now become, 3. 4. 1.2 | That whilome wont in women to appeare? 3. 4. 1.3 | Where be the braue atchieuements doen by some? 3. 4. 1.4 | Where be the battels, where the shield and speare, 3. 4. 1.5 | And all the conquests, which them high did reare, 3. 4. 1.6 | That matter made for famous Poets verse, 3. 4. 1.7 | And boastfull men so oft abasht to heare? 3. 4. 1.8 | Bene they all dead, and laid in dolefull herse? 3. 4. 1.9 | Or doen they onely sleepe, and shall againe reuerse? 3. 4. 2.1 | If they be dead, then woe is me therefore: 3. 4. 2.2 | But if they sleepe, O let them soone awake: 3. 4. 2.3 | For all too long I burne with enuy sore, 3. 4. 2.4 | To heare the warlike feates, which \Homere\ spake 3. 4. 2.5 | Of bold \Penthesilee\, which made a lake 3. 4. 2.6 | Of \Greekish\ bloud so oft in \Troian\ plaine; 3. 4. 2.7 | But when I read, how stout \Debora\ strake 3. 4. 2.8 | Proud \Sisera\, and how \Camill'\ hath slaine 3. 4. 2.9 | The huge \Orsilochus\, I swell with great disdaine. 3. 4. 3.1 | Yet these, and all that else had puissaunce, 3. 4. 3.2 | Cannot with noble \Britomart\ compare, 3. 4. 3.3 | Aswell for glory of great valiaunce, 3. 4. 3.4 | As for pure chastitie and vertue rare, 3. 4. 3.5 | That all her goodly deeds do well declare. 3. 4. 3.6 | Well worthy stock, from which the branches sprong, 3. 4. 3.7 | That in late yeares so faire a blossome bare, 3. 4. 3.8 | As thee, O Queene, the matter of my song, 3. 4. 3.9 | Whose lignage from this Lady I deriue along. 3. 4. 4.1 | Who when through speaches with the \Redcrosse\ knight, 3. 4. 4.2 | She learned had th'=estate of \Arthegall\, 3. 4. 4.3 | And in each point her selfe informd aright, 3. 4. 4.4 | A friendly league of loue perpetuall 3. 4. 4.5 | She with him bound, and \Conge<\ tooke withall. 3. 4. 4.6 | Then he forth on his iourney did proceede, 3. 4. 4.7 | To seeke aduentures, which mote him befall, 3. 4. 4.8 | And win him worship through his warlike deed, 3. 4. 4.9 | Which alwayes of his paines he made the chiefest meed. 3. 4. 5.1 | But \Britomart\ kept on her former course, 3. 4. 5.2 | Ne euer dofte her armes, but all the way 3. 4. 5.3 | Grew pensiue through that amorous discourse, 3. 4. 5.4 | By which the \Redcrosse\ knight did earst display 3. 4. 5.5 | Her louers shape, and cheualrous aray; 3. 4. 5.6 | A thousand thoughts she fashioned in her mind, 3. 4. 5.7 | And in her feigning fancie did pourtray 3. 4. 5.8 | Him such, as fittest she for loue could find, 3. 4. 5.9 | Wise, warlike, personable, curteous, and kind. 3. 4. 6.1 | With such selfe-pleasing thoughts her wound she fed, 3. 4. 6.2 | And thought so to beguile her grieuous smart; 3. 4. 6.3 | But so her smart was much more grieuous bred, 3. 4. 6.4 | And the deepe wound more deepe engord her hart, 3. 4. 6.5 | That nought but death her dolour mote depart. 3. 4. 6.6 | So forth she rode without repose or rest, 3. 4. 6.7 | Searching all lands and each remotest part, 3. 4. 6.8 | Following the guidaunce of her blinded guest, 3. 4. 6.9 | Till that to the sea-coast at length she her addrest. 3. 4. 7.1 | There she alighted from her light-foot beast, 3. 4. 7.2 | And sitting downe vpon the rocky shore, 3. 4. 7.3 | Bad her old Squire vnlace her lofty creast; 3. 4. 7.4 | Tho hauing vewd a while the surges hore, 3. 4. 7.5 | That gainst the craggy clifts did loudly rore, 3. 4. 7.6 | And in their raging surquedry disdaynd, 3. 4. 7.7 | That the fast earth affronted them so sore, 3. 4. 7.8 | And their deuouring couetize restraynd, 3. 4. 7.9 | Thereat she sighed deepe, and after thus complaynd. 3. 4. 8.1 | Huge sea of sorrow, and tempestuous griefe, 3. 4. 8.2 | Wherein my feeble barke is tossed long, 3. 4. 8.3 | Far from the hoped hauen of reliefe, 3. 4. 8.4 | Why do thy cruell billowes beat so strong, 3. 4. 8.5 | And thy moyst mountaines each on others throng, 3. 4. 8.6 | Threatning to swallow vp my fearefull life? 3. 4. 8.7 | O do thy cruell wrath and spightfull wrong 3. 4. 8.8 | At length allay, and stint thy stormy strife, 3. 4. 8.9 | Which in these troubled bowels raignes, and rageth rife. 3. 4. 9.1 | For else my feeble vessell crazd, and crackt 3. 4. 9.2 | Through thy strong buffets and outrageous blowes, 3. 4. 9.3 | Cannot endure, but needs it must be wrackt 3. 4. 9.4 | On the rough rocks, or on the sandy shallowes, 3. 4. 9.5 | The whiles that loue it steres, and fortune rowes; 3. 4. 9.6 | Loue my lewd Pilot hath a restlesse mind 3. 4. 9.7 | And fortune Boteswaine no assuraunce knowes, 3. 4. 9.8 | But saile withouten starres gainst tide and wind: 3. 4. 9.9 | How can they other do, sith both are bold and blind? 3. 4.10.1 | Thou God of winds, that raignest in the seas, 3. 4.10.2 | That raignest also in the Continent, 3. 4.10.3 | At last blow vp some gentle gale of ease, 3. 4.10.4 | The which may bring my ship, ere it be rent, 3. 4.10.5 | Vnto the gladsome port of her intent: 3. 4.10.6 | Then when I shall my selfe in safety see, 3. 4.10.7 | A table for eternall moniment 3. 4.10.8 | Of thy great grace, and my great ieopardee, 3. 4.10.9 | Great \Neptune\, I auow to hallow vnto thee. 3. 4.11.1 | Then sighing softly sore, and inly deepe, 3. 4.11.2 | She shut vp all her plaint in priuy griefe; 3. 4.11.3 | For her great courage would not let her weepe, 3. 4.11.4 | Till that old \Glauce\ gan with sharpe repriefe, 3. 4.11.5 | Her to restraine, and giue her good reliefe, 3. 4.11.6 | Through hope of those, which \Merlin\ had her told 3. 4.11.7 | Should of her name and nation be chiefe, 3. 4.11.8 | And fetch their being from the sacred mould 3. 4.11.9 | Of her immortall wombe, to be in heauen enrold. 3. 4.12.1 | Thus as she her recomforted, she spyde, 3. 4.12.2 | Where farre away one all in armour bright, 3. 4.12.3 | With hastie gallop towards her did ryde; 3. 4.12.4 | Her dolour soone she ceast, and on her dight 3. 4.12.5 | Her Helmet, to her Courser mounting light: 3. 4.12.6 | Her former sorrow into suddein wrath, 3. 4.12.7 | Both coosen passions of distroubled spright, 3. 4.12.8 | Conuerting, forth she beates the dustie path; 3. 4.12.9 | Loue and despight attonce her courage kindled hath. 3. 4.13.1 | As when a foggy mist hath ouercast 3. 4.13.2 | The face of heauen, and the cleare aire engrost, 3. 4.13.3 | The world in darkenesse dwels, till that at last 3. 4.13.4 | The watry Southwinde from the seabord cost 3. 4.13.5 | Vpblowing, doth disperse the vapour lo'st, 3. 4.13.6 | And poures it selfe forth in a stormy showre; 3. 4.13.7 | So the faire \Britomart\ hauing disclo'st 3. 4.13.8 | Her clowdy care into a wrathfull stowre, 3. 4.13.9 | The mist of griefe dissolu'd, did into vengeance powre. 3. 4.14.1 | Eftsoones her goodly shield addressing faire, 3. 4.14.2 | That mortall speare she in her hand did take, 3. 4.14.3 | And vnto battell did her selfe prepaire. 3. 4.14.4 | The knight approching, sternely her bespake; 3. 4.14.5 | Sir knight, that doest thy voyage rashly make 3. 4.14.6 | By this forbidden way in my despight, 3. 4.14.7 | Ne doest by others death ensample take, 3. 4.14.8 | I read thee soone retyre, whiles thou hast might, 3. 4.14.9 | Least afterwards it be too late to take thy flight. 3. 4.15.1 | Ythrild with deepe disdaine of his proud threat, 3. 4.15.2 | She shortly thus; Fly they, that need to fly; 3. 4.15.3 | Words fearen babes. I meane not thee entreat 3. 4.15.4 | To passe; but maugre thee will passe or dy. 3. 4.15.5 | Ne lenger stayd for th'=other to reply, 3. 4.15.6 | But with sharpe speare the rest made dearly knowne. 3. 4.15.7 | Strongly the straunge knight ran, and sturdily 3. 4.15.8 | Strooke her full on the brest, that made her downe 3. 4.15.9 | Decline her head, and touch her crouper with her crowne. 3. 4.16.1 | But she againe him in the shield did smite, 3. 4.16.2 | With so fierce furie and great puissaunce, 3. 4.16.3 | That through his threesquare scuchin percing quite, 3. 4.16.4 | And through his mayled hauberque, by mischaunce 3. 4.16.5 | The wicked steele through his left side did glaunce; 3. 4.16.6 | Him so transfixed she before her bore 3. 4.16.7 | Beyond his croupe, the length of all her launce, 3. 4.16.8 | Till sadly soucing on the sandie shore, 3. 4.16.9 | He tombled on an heape, and wallowd in his gore. 3. 4.17.1 | Like as the sacred Oxe, that carelesse stands, 3. 4.17.2 | With gilden hornes, and flowry girlonds crownd, 3. 4.17.3 | Proud of his dying honor and deare bands, 3. 4.17.4 | Whiles th'=altars fume with frankincense arownd, 3. 4.17.5 | All suddenly with mortall stroke astownd, 3. 4.17.6 | Doth groueling fall, and with his streaming gore 3. 4.17.7 | Distaines the pillours, and the holy grownd, 3. 4.17.8 | And the faire flowres, that decked him afore; 3. 4.17.9 | So fell proud \Marinell\ vpon the pretious shore. 3. 4.18.1 | The martiall Mayd stayd not him to lament, 3. 4.18.2 | But forward rode, and kept her readie way 3. 4.18.3 | Along the strond, which as she ouer-went, 3. 4.18.4 | She saw bestrowed all with rich aray 3. 4.18.5 | Of pearles and pretious stones of great assay, 3. 4.18.6 | And all the grauell mixt with golden owre; 3. 4.18.7 | Whereat she wondred much, but would not stay 3. 4.18.8 | For gold, or perles, or pretious stones an howre, 3. 4.18.9 | But them despised all; for all was in her powre. 3. 4.19.1 | Whiles thus he lay in deadly stonishment, 3. 4.19.2 | Tydings hereof came to his mothers eare; 3. 4.19.3 | His mother was the blacke-browd \Cymoent\, 3. 4.19.4 | The daughter of great \Nereus\, which did beare 3. 4.19.5 | This warlike sonne vnto an earthly peare, 3. 4.19.6 | The famous \Dumarin\; who on a day 3. 4.19.7 | Finding the Nymph a sleepe in secret wheare, 3. 4.19.8 | As he by chaunce did wander that same way, 3. 4.19.9 | Was taken with her loue, and by her closely lay. 3. 4.20.1 | There he this knight of her begot, whom borne 3. 4.20.2 | She of his father \Marinell\ did name, 3. 4.20.3 | And in a rocky caue as wight forlorne, 3. 4.20.4 | Long time she fostred vp, till he became 3. 4.20.5 | A mightie man at armes, and mickle fame 3. 4.20.6 | Did get through great aduentures by him donne: 3. 4.20.7 | For neuer man he suffred by that same 3. 4.20.8 | \Rich strond\ to trauell, whereas he did wonne, 3. 4.20.9 | But that he must do battell with the Sea-nymphes sonne. 3. 4.21.1 | An hundred knights of honorable name 3. 4.21.2 | He had subdew'd and them his vassals made, 3. 4.21.3 | That through all Farie lond his noble fame 3. 4.21.4 | Now blazed was, and feare did all inuade, 3. 4.21.5 | That none durst passen through that perilous glade. 3. 4.21.6 | And to aduance his name and glorie more, 3. 4.21.7 | Her Sea-god syre she dearely did perswade, 3. 4.21.8 | T'=endow her sonne with threasure and rich store, 3. 4.21.9 | Boue all the sonnes, that were of earthly wombes ybore. 3. 4.22.1 | The God did graunt his daughters deare demaund, 3. 4.22.2 | To doen his Nephew in all riches flow; 3. 4.22.3 | Eftsoones his heaped waues he did commaund, 3. 4.22.4 | Out of their hollow bosome forth to throw 3. 4.22.5 | All the huge threasure, which the sea below 3. 4.22.6 | Had in his greedie gulfe deuoured deepe, 3. 4.22.7 | And him enriched through the ouerthrow 3. 4.22.8 | And wreckes of many wretches, which did weepe, 3. 4.22.9 | And often waile their wealth, which he from them did keepe. 3. 4.23.1 | Shortly vpon that shore there heaped was, 3. 4.23.2 | Exceeding riches and all pretious things, 3. 4.23.3 | The spoyle of all the world, that it did pas 3. 4.23.4 | The wealth of th'=East, and pompe of \Persian\ kings; 3. 4.23.5 | Gold, amber, yuorie, perles, owches, rings, 3. 4.23.6 | And all that else was pretious and deare, 3. 4.23.7 | The sea vnto him voluntary brings, 3. 4.23.8 | That shortly he a great Lord did appeare, 3. 4.23.9 | As was in all the lond of Faery, or elsewheare. 3. 4.24.1 | Thereto he was a doughtie dreaded knight, 3. 4.24.2 | Tryde often to the scath of many deare, 3. 4.24.3 | That none in equall armes him matchen might, 3. 4.24.4 | The which his mother seeing, gan to feare 3. 4.24.5 | Least his too haughtie hardines might reare 3. 4.24.6 | Some hard mishap, in hazard of his life: 3. 4.24.7 | For thy she oft him counseld to forbeare 3. 4.24.8 | The bloudie battell, and to stirre vp strife, 3. 4.24.9 | But after all his warre, to rest his wearie knife. 3. 4.25.1 | And for his more assurance, she inquir'd 3. 4.25.2 | One day of \Proteus\ by his mightie spell, 3. 4.25.3 | (For \Proteus\ was with prophecie inspir'd) 3. 4.25.4 | Her deare sonnes destinie to her to tell, 3. 4.25.5 | And the sad end of her sweet \Marinell\. 3. 4.25.6 | Who through foresight of his eternall skill, 3. 4.25.7 | Bad her from womankind to keepe him well: 3. 4.25.8 | For of a woman he should haue much ill, 3. 4.25.9 | A virgin strange and stout him should dismay, or kill. 3. 4.26.1 | For thy she gaue him warning euery day, 3. 4.26.2 | The loue of women not to entertaine; 3. 4.26.3 | A lesson too too hard for liuing clay, 3. 4.26.4 | From loue in course of nature to refraine: 3. 4.26.5 | Yet he his mothers lore did well retaine, 3. 4.26.6 | And euer from faire Ladies loue did fly; 3. 4.26.7 | Yet many Ladies faire did oft complaine, 3. 4.26.8 | That they for loue of him would algates dy: 3. 4.26.9 | Dy, who so list for him, he was loues enimy. 3. 4.27.1 | But ah, who can deceiue his destiny, 3. 4.27.2 | Or weene by warning to auoyd his fate? 3. 4.27.3 | That when he sleepes in most security, 3. 4.27.4 | And safest seemes, him soonest doth amate, 3. 4.27.5 | And findeth dew effect or soone or late. 3. 4.27.6 | So feeble is the powre of fleshly arme. 3. 4.27.7 | His mother bad him womens loue to hate, 3. 4.27.8 | For she of womans force did feare no harme; 3. 4.27.9 | So weening to haue arm'd him, she did quite disarme. 3. 4.28.1 | This was that woman, this that deadly wound, 3. 4.28.2 | That \Proteus\ prophecide should him dismay, 3. 4.28.3 | The which his mother vainely did expound, 3. 4.28.4 | To be hart-wounding loue, which should assay 3. 4.28.5 | To bring her sonne vnto his last decay. 3. 4.28.6 | So tickle be the termes of mortall state, 3. 4.28.7 | And full of subtile sophismes, which do play 3. 4.28.8 | With double senses, and with false debate, 3. 4.28.9 | T'=approue the vnknowen purpose of eternall fate. 3. 4.29.1 | Too true the famous \Marinell\ it fownd, 3. 4.29.2 | Who through late triall, on that wealthy Strond 3. 4.29.3 | Inglorious now lies in senselesse swownd, 3. 4.29.4 | Through heauy stroke of \Britomartis\ hond. 3. 4.29.5 | Which when his mother deare did vnderstond, 3. 4.29.6 | And heauy tydings heard, whereas she playd 3. 4.29.7 | Amongst her watry sisters by a pond, 3. 4.29.8 | Gathering sweet daffadillyes, to haue made 3. 4.29.9 | Gay girlonds, from the Sun their forheads faire to shade; 3. 4.30.1 | Eftsoones both flowres and girlonds farre away 3. 4.30.2 | She flong, and her faire deawy lockes yrent, 3. 4.30.3 | To sorrow huge she turnd her former play, 3. 4.30.4 | And gamesom merth to grieuous dreriment: 3. 4.30.5 | She threw her selfe downe on the Continent, 3. 4.30.6 | Ne word did speake, but lay as in a swowne, 3. 4.30.7 | Whiles all her sisters did for her lament, 3. 4.30.8 | With yelling outcries, and with shrieking sowne; 3. 4.30.9 | And euery one did teare her girlond from her crowne. 3. 4.31.1 | Soone as she vp out of her deadly fit 3. 4.31.2 | Arose, she bad her charet to be brought, 3. 4.31.3 | And all her sisters, that with her did sit, 3. 4.31.4 | Bad eke attonce their charets to be sought; 3. 4.31.5 | Tho full of bitter griefe and pensiue thought, 3. 4.31.6 | She to her wagon clombe; clombe all the rest, 3. 4.31.7 | And forth together went, with sorrow fraught. 3. 4.31.8 | The waues obedient to their beheast, 3. 4.31.9 | Them yielded readie passage, and their rage surceast. 3. 4.32.1 | Great \Neptune\ stood amazed at their sight, 3. 4.32.2 | Whiles on his broad round backe they softly slid 3. 4.32.3 | And eke himselfe mournd at their mournfull plight, 3. 4.32.4 | Yet wist not what their wailing ment, yet did 3. 4.32.5 | For great compassion of their sorrow, bid 3. 4.32.6 | His mightie waters to them buxome bee: 3. 4.32.7 | Eftsoones the roaring billowes still abid, 3. 4.32.8 | And all the griesly Monsters of the See 3. 4.32.9 | Stood gaping at their gate, and wondred them to see. 3. 4.33.1 | A teme of Dolphins raunged in aray, 3. 4.33.2 | Drew the smooth charet of sad \Cymoent\; 3. 4.33.3 | They were all taught by \Triton\, to obay 3. 4.33.4 | To the long raynes, at her commaundement: 3. 4.33.5 | As swift as swallowes, on the waues they went, 3. 4.33.6 | That their broad flaggie finnes no fome did reare, 3. 4.33.7 | Ne bubbling roundell they behind them sent; 3. 4.33.8 | The rest of other fishes drawen weare, 3. 4.33.9 | Which with their finny oars the swelling sea did sheare. 3. 4.34.1 | Soone as they bene arriu'd vpon the brim 3. 4.34.2 | Of the \Rich strond\, their charets they forlore, 3. 4.34.3 | And let their temed fishes softly swim 3. 4.34.4 | Along the margent of the fomy shore, 3. 4.34.5 | Least they their finnes should bruze, and surbate sore 3. 4.34.6 | Their tender feet vpon the stony ground: 3. 4.34.7 | And comming to the place, where all in gore 3. 4.34.8 | And cruddy bloud enwallowed they found 3. 4.34.9 | The lucklesse \Marinell\, lying in deadly swound; 3. 4.35.1 | His mother swowned thrise, and the third time 3. 4.35.2 | Could scarce recouered be out of her paine; 3. 4.35.3 | Had she not bene deuoyd of mortall slime, 3. 4.35.4 | She should not then haue bene reliu'd againe, 3. 4.35.5 | But soone as life recouered had the raine, 3. 4.35.6 | She made so piteous mone and deare wayment, 3. 4.35.7 | That the hard rocks could scarse from teares refraine, 3. 4.35.8 | And all her sister Nymphes with one consent 3. 4.35.9 | Supplide her sobbing breaches with sad complement. 3. 4.36.1 | Deare image of my selfe (she said) that is, 3. 4.36.2 | The wretched sonne of wretched mother borne, 3. 4.36.3 | Is this thine high aduauncement, O is this 3. 4.36.4 | Th'=immortall name, with which thee yet vnborne 3. 4.36.5 | Thy Gransire \Nereus\ promist to adorne? 3. 4.36.6 | Now lyest thou of life and honor reft; 3. 4.36.7 | Now lyest thou a lumpe of earth forlorne, 3. 4.36.8 | Ne of thy late life memory is left, 3. 4.36.9 | Ne can thy irreuocable destiny be weft? 3. 4.37.1 | Fond \Proteus\, father of false prophecis, 3. 4.37.2 | And they more fond, that credit to thee giue, 3. 4.37.3 | Not this the worke of womans hand ywis, 3. 4.37.4 | That so deepe wound through these deare members driue. 3. 4.37.5 | I feared loue: but they that loue do liue, 3. 4.37.6 | But they that die, doe neither loue nor hate. 3. 4.37.7 | Nath'lesse to thee thy folly I forgiue, 3. 4.37.8 | And to my selfe, and to accursed fate 3. 4.37.9 | The guilt I doe ascribe: deare wisedome bought too late. 3. 4.38.1 | O what auailes it of immortall seed 3. 4.38.2 | To beene ybred and neuer borne to die? 3. 4.38.3 | Farre better I it deeme to die with speed, 3. 4.38.4 | Then waste in woe and wailefull miserie. 3. 4.38.5 | Who dyes the vtmost dolour doth abye, 3. 4.38.6 | But who that liues, is left to waile his losse: 3. 4.38.7 | So life is losse, and death felicitie. 3. 4.38.8 | Sad life worse then glad death: and greater crosse 3. 4.38.9 | To see friends graue, then dead the graue selfe to engrosse. 3. 4.39.1 | But if the heauens did his dayes enuie, 3. 4.39.2 | And my short blisse maligne, yet mote they well 3. 4.39.3 | Thus much afford me, ere that he did die 3. 4.39.4 | That the dim eyes of my deare \Marinell\ 3. 4.39.5 | I mote haue closed, and him bed farewell, 3. 4.39.6 | Sith other offices for mother meet 3. 4.39.7 | They would not graunt. 3. 4.39.8 | Yet maulgre them farewell, my sweetest sweet; 3. 4.39.9 | Farewell my sweetest sonne, sith we no more shall meet. 3. 4.40.1 | Thus when they all had sorrowed their fill, 3. 4.40.2 | They softly gan to search his griesly wound: 3. 4.40.3 | And that they might him handle more at will, 3. 4.40.4 | They him disarm'd, and spredding on the ground 3. 4.40.5 | Their watchet mantles frindgd with siluer round, 3. 4.40.6 | They softly wipt away the gelly blood 3. 4.40.7 | From th'=orifice; which hauing well vpbound, 3. 4.40.8 | They pourd in soueraine balme, and Nectar good, 3. 4.40.9 | Good both for earthly med'cine, and for heauenly food. 3. 4.41.1 | Tho when the lilly handed \Liagore\, 3. 4.41.2 | (This \Liagore\ whylome had learned skill 3. 4.41.3 | In leaches craft, by great \Appolloes\ lore, 3. 4.41.4 | Sith her whylome vpon high \Pindus\ hill, 3. 4.41.5 | He loued, and at last her wombe did fill 3. 4.41.6 | With heauenly seed, whereof wise \Pa+eon\ sprong) 3. 4.41.7 | Did feele his pulse, she knew their staied still 3. 4.41.8 | Some litle life his feeble sprites emong; 3. 4.41.9 | Which to his mother told, despeire she from her flong. 3. 4.42.1 | Tho vp him taking in their tender hands, 3. 4.42.2 | They easily vnto her charet beare: 3. 4.42.3 | Her teme at her commaundement quiet stands, 3. 4.42.4 | Whiles they the corse into her wagon reare, 3. 4.42.5 | And strow with flowres the lamentable beare: 3. 4.42.6 | Then all the rest into their coches clim, 3. 4.42.7 | And through the brackish waues their passage sheare; 3. 4.42.8 | Vpon great \Neptunes\ necke they softly swim, 3. 4.42.9 | And to her watry chamber swiftly carry him. 3. 4.43.1 | Deepe in the bottome of the sea, her bowre 3. 4.43.2 | Is built of hollow billowes heaped hye, 3. 4.43.3 | Like to thicke cloudes, that threat a stormy showre, 3. 4.43.4 | And vauted all within, like to the sky, 3. 4.43.5 | In which the Gods do dwell eternally: 3. 4.43.6 | There they him laid in easie couch well dight; 3. 4.43.7 | And sent in haste for \Tryphon\, to apply 3. 4.43.8 | Salues to his wounds, and medicines of might: 3. 4.43.9 | For \Tryphon\ of sea gods the soueraine leach is hight. 3. 4.44.1 | The whiles the \Nymphes\ sit all about him round, 3. 4.44.2 | Lamenting his mishap and heauy plight; 3. 4.44.3 | And oft his mother vewing his wide wound, 3. 4.44.4 | Cursed the hand, that did so deadly smight 3. 4.44.5 | Her dearest sonne, her dearest harts delight. 3. 4.44.6 | But none of all those curses ouertooke 3. 4.44.7 | The warlike Maid, th'=ensample of that might, 3. 4.44.8 | But fairely well she thriu'd, and well did brooke 3. 4.44.9 | Her noble deeds, ne her right course for ought forsooke. 3. 4.45.1 | Yet did false \Archimage\ her still pursew, 3. 4.45.2 | To bring to passe his mischieuous intent, 3. 4.45.3 | Now that he had her singled from the crew 3. 4.45.4 | Of courteous knights, the Prince, and Faery gent, 3. 4.45.5 | Whom late in chace of beautie excellent 3. 4.45.6 | She left, pursewing that same foster strong; 3. 4.45.7 | Of whose foule outrage they impatient, 3. 4.45.8 | And full of fiery zeale, him followed long, 3. 4.45.9 | To reskew her from shame, and to reuenge her wrong. 3. 4.46.1 | Through thick and thin, through mountaines and through plains, 3. 4.46.2 | Those two great champions did attonce pursew 3. 4.46.3 | The fearefull damzell, with incessant paines: 3. 4.46.4 | Who from them fled, as light-foot hare from vew 3. 4.46.5 | Of hunter swift, and sent of houndes trew. 3. 4.46.6 | At last they came vnto a double way, 3. 4.46.7 | Where, doubtfull which to take, her to reskew, 3. 4.46.8 | Themselues they did dispart, each to assay, 3. 4.46.9 | Whether more happie were, to win so goodly pray. 3. 4.47.1 | But \Timias\, the Princes gentle Squire, 3. 4.47.2 | That Ladies loue vnto his Lord forlent, 3. 4.47.3 | And with proud enuy, and indignant ire, 3. 4.47.4 | After that wicked foster fiercely went. 3. 4.47.5 | So beene they three three sundry wayes ybent. 3. 4.47.6 | But fairest fortune to the Prince befell, 3. 4.47.7 | Whose chaunce it was, that soone he did repent, 3. 4.47.8 | To take that way, in which that Damozell 3. 4.47.9 | Was fled afore, affraid of him, as feend of hell. 3. 4.48.1 | At last of her farre off he gained vew: 3. 4.48.2 | Then gan he freshly pricke his fomy steed, 3. 4.48.3 | And euer as he nigher to her drew, 3. 4.48.4 | So euermore he did increase his speed, 3. 4.48.5 | And of each turning still kept warie heed: 3. 4.48.6 | Aloud to her he oftentimes did call, 3. 4.48.7 | To doe away vaine doubt, and needlesse dreed: 3. 4.48.8 | Full myld to her he spake, and oft let fall 3. 4.48.9 | Many meeke wordes, to stay and comfort her withall. 3. 4.49.1 | But nothing might relent her hastie flight; 3. 4.49.2 | So deepe the deadly feare of that foule swaine 3. 4.49.3 | Was earst impressed in her gentle spright: 3. 4.49.4 | Like as a fearefull Doue, which through the raine, 3. 4.49.5 | Of the wide aire her way does cut amaine, 3. 4.49.6 | Hauing farre off espyde a Tassell gent, 3. 4.49.7 | Which after her his nimble wings doth straine, 3. 4.49.8 | Doubleth her haste for feare to be for-hent, 3. 4.49.9 | And with her pineons cleaues the liquid firmament. 3. 4.50.1 | With no lesse haste, and eke with no lesse dreed, 3. 4.50.2 | That fearefull Ladie fled from him, that ment 3. 4.50.3 | To her no euill thought, nor euill deed; 3. 4.50.4 | Yet former feare of being fowly shent, 3. 4.50.5 | Carried her forward with her first intent: 3. 4.50.6 | And though oft looking backward, well she vewd, 3. 4.50.7 | Her selfe freed from that foster insolent, 3. 4.50.8 | And that it was a knight, which now her sewd, 3. 4.50.9 | Yet she no lesse the knight feard, then that villein rude. 3. 4.51.1 | His vncouth shield and straunge armes her dismayd, 3. 4.51.2 | Whose like in Faery lond were seldome seene, 3. 4.51.3 | That fast she from him fled, no lesse affrayd, 3. 4.51.4 | Then of wilde beastes if she had chased beene: 3. 4.51.5 | Yet he her followd still with courage keene, 3. 4.51.6 | So long that now the golden \Hesperus\ 3. 4.51.7 | Was mounted high in top of heauen sheene, 3. 4.51.8 | And warnd his other brethren ioyeous, 3. 4.51.9 | To light their blessed lamps in \Ioues\ eternall hous. 3. 4.52.1 | All suddenly dim woxe the dampish ayre, 3. 4.52.2 | And griesly shadowes couered heauen bright, 3. 4.52.3 | That now with thousand starres was decked fayre; 3. 4.52.4 | Which when the Prince beheld, a lothfull sight, 3. 4.52.5 | And that perforce, for want of lenger light, 3. 4.52.6 | He mote surcease his suit, and lose the hope 3. 4.52.7 | Of his long labour, he gan fowly wyte 3. 4.52.8 | His wicked fortune, that had turnd aslope, 3. 4.52.9 | And cursed night, that reft from him so goodly scope. 3. 4.53.1 | Tho when her wayes he could no more descry, 3. 4.53.2 | But to and fro at disauenture strayd; 3. 4.53.3 | Like as a ship, whose Lodestarre suddenly 3. 4.53.4 | Couered with cloudes, her Pilot hath dismayd; 3. 4.53.5 | His wearisome pursuit perforce he stayd, 3. 4.53.6 | And from his loftie steed dismounting low, 3. 4.53.7 | Did let him forage. Downe himselfe he layd 3. 4.53.8 | Vpon the grassie ground, to sleepe a throw; 3. 4.53.9 | The cold earth was his couch, the hard steele his pillow. 3. 4.54.1 | But gentle Sleepe enuyde him any rest; 3. 4.54.2 | In stead thereof sad sorrow, and disdaine 3. 4.54.3 | Of his hard hap did vexe his noble brest, 3. 4.54.4 | And thousand fancies bet his idle braine 3. 4.54.5 | With their light wings, the sights of semblants vaine: 3. 4.54.6 | Oft did he wish, that Lady faire mote bee 3. 4.54.7 | His Faery Queene, for whom he did complaine: 3. 4.54.8 | Or that his Faery Queene were such, as shee: 3. 4.54.9 | And euer hastie Night he blamed bitterlie. 3. 4.55.1 | Night thou foule Mother of annoyance sad, 3. 4.55.2 | Sister of heauie death, and nourse of woe, 3. 4.55.3 | Which wast begot in heauen, but for thy bad 3. 4.55.4 | And brutish shape thrust downe to hell below, 3. 4.55.5 | Where by the grim floud of \Cocytus\ slow 3. 4.55.6 | Thy dwelling is, in \Herebus\ blacke hous, 3. 4.55.7 | (Blacke \Herebus\ thy husband is the foe 3. 4.55.8 | Of all the Gods) where thou vngratious, 3. 4.55.9 | Halfe of thy dayes doest lead in horrour hideous. 3. 4.56.1 | What had th'=eternall Maker need of thee, 3. 4.56.2 | The world in his continuall course to keepe, 3. 4.56.3 | That doest all things deface, ne lettest see 3. 4.56.4 | The beautie of his worke? Indeed in sleepe 3. 4.56.5 | The slouthfull bodie, that doth loue to steepe 3. 4.56.6 | His lustlesse limbes, and drowne his baser mind, 3. 4.56.7 | Doth praise thee oft, and oft from \Stygian\ deepe 3. 4.56.8 | Calles thee, his goddesse in his error blind, 3. 4.56.9 | And great Dame Natures handmaide, chearing euery kind. 3. 4.57.1 | But well I wote, that to an heauy hart 3. 4.57.2 | Thou art the root and nurse of bitter cares, 3. 4.57.3 | Breeder of new, renewer of old smarts: 3. 4.57.4 | In stead of rest thou lendest rayling teares, 3. 4.57.5 | In stead of sleepe thou sendest troublous feares, 3. 4.57.6 | And dreadfull visions, in the which aliue 3. 4.57.7 | The drearie image of sad death appeares: 3. 4.57.8 | So from the wearie spirit thou doest driue 3. 4.57.9 | Desired rest, and men of happinesse depriue. 3. 4.58.1 | Vnder thy mantle blacke there hidden lye, 3. 4.58.2 | Light-shonning theft, and traiterous intent, 3. 4.58.3 | Abhorred bloudshed, and vile felony, 3. 4.58.4 | Shamefull deceipt, and daunger imminent; 3. 4.58.5 | Foule horror, and eke hellish dreriment: 3. 4.58.6 | All these I wote in thy protection bee, 3. 4.58.7 | And light doe shonne, for feare of being shent: 3. 4.58.8 | For light ylike is loth'd of them and thee, 3. 4.58.9 | And all that lewdnesse loue, doe hate the light to see. 3. 4.59.1 | For day discouers all dishonest wayes, 3. 4.59.2 | And sheweth each thing, as it is indeed: 3. 4.59.3 | The prayses of high God he faire displayes, 3. 4.59.4 | And his large bountie rightly doth areed. 3. 4.59.5 | Dayes dearest children be the blessed seed, 3. 4.59.6 | Which darknesse shall subdew, and heauen win: 3. 4.59.7 | Truth is his daughter; he her first did breed, 3. 4.59.8 | Most sacred virgin, without spot of sin. 3. 4.59.9 | Our life is day, but death with darknesse doth begin. 3. 4.60.1 | O when will day then turne to me againe, 3. 4.60.2 | And bring with him his long expected light? 3. 4.60.3 | O \Titan\, haste to reare thy ioyous waine: 3. 4.60.4 | Speed thee to spred abroad thy beames bright, 3. 4.60.5 | And chase away this too long lingring night, 3. 4.60.6 | Chase her away, from whence she came, to hell. 3. 4.60.7 | She, she it is, that hath me done despight: 3. 4.60.8 | There let her with the damned spirits dwell, 3. 4.60.9 | And yeeld her roome to day, that can it gouerne well. 3. 4.61.1 | Thus did the Prince that wearie night outweare, 3. 4.61.2 | In restlesse anguish and vnquiet paine: 3. 4.61.3 | And earely, ere the morrow did vpreare 3. 4.61.4 | His deawy head out of the \Ocean\ maine, 3. 4.61.5 | He vp arose, as halfe in great disdaine, 3. 4.61.6 | And clombe vnto his steed. So forth he went, 3. 4.61.7 | With heauie looke and lumpish pace, that plaine 3. 4.61.8 | In him bewraid great grudge and maltalent: 3. 4.61.9 | His steed eke seem'd t'=apply his steps to his intent. 3. 5. A.1 | \Prince Arthur heares of Florimell:\ 3. 5. A.2 | \three fosters Timias wound,\ 3. 5. A.3 | \Belphebe finds him almost dead,\ 3. 5. A.4 | \and reareth out of sownd.\ 3. 5. 1.1 | Wonder it is to see, in diuerse minds, 3. 5. 1.2 | How diuersly loue doth his pageants play, 3. 5. 1.3 | And shewes his powre in variable kinds: 3. 5. 1.4 | The baser wit, whose idle thoughts alway 3. 5. 1.5 | Are wont to cleaue vnto the lowly clay, 3. 5. 1.6 | It stirreth vp to sensuall desire, 3. 5. 1.7 | And in lewd slouth to wast his carelesse day: 3. 5. 1.8 | But in braue sprite it kindles goodly fire, 3. 5. 1.9 | That to all high desert and honour doth aspire. 3. 5. 2.1 | Ne suffereth it vncomely idlenesse, 3. 5. 2.2 | In his free thought to build her sluggish nest: 3. 5. 2.3 | Ne suffereth it thought of vngentlenesse, 3. 5. 2.4 | Euer to creepe into his noble brest, 3. 5. 2.5 | But to the highest and the worthiest 3. 5. 2.6 | Lifteth it vp, that else would lowly fall: 3. 5. 2.7 | It lets not fall, it lets it not to rest: 3. 5. 2.8 | It lets not scarse this Prince to breath at all, 3. 5. 2.9 | But to his first poursuit him forward still doth call. 3. 5. 3.1 | Who long time wandred through the forrest wyde, 3. 5. 3.2 | To finde some issue thence, till that at last 3. 5. 3.3 | He met a Dwarfe, that seemed terrifyde 3. 5. 3.4 | With some late perill, which he hardly past, 3. 5. 3.5 | Or other accident, which him aghast; 3. 5. 3.6 | Of whom he asked, whence he lately came, 3. 5. 3.7 | And whither now he trauelled so fast: 3. 5. 3.8 | For sore he swat, and running through that same 3. 5. 3.9 | Thicke forest, was bescratcht, and both his feet nigh lame. 3. 5. 4.1 | Panting for breath, and almost out of hart, 3. 5. 4.2 | The Dwarfe him answerd, Sir, ill mote I stay 3. 5. 4.3 | To tell the same. I lately did depart 3. 5. 4.4 | From Faery court, where I haue many a day 3. 5. 4.5 | Serued a gentle Lady of great sway, 3. 5. 4.6 | And high accompt through out all Elfin land, 3. 5. 4.7 | Who lately left the same, and tooke this way: 3. 5. 4.8 | Her now I seeke, and if ye vnderstand 3. 5. 4.9 | Which way she fared hath, good Sir tell out of hand. 3. 5. 5.1 | What mister wight (said he) and how arayd? 3. 5. 5.2 | Royally clad (quoth he) in cloth of gold, 3. 5. 5.3 | As meetest may beseeme a noble mayd; 3. 5. 5.4 | Her faire lockes in rich circlet be enrold, 3. 5. 5.5 | A fairer wight did neuer Sunne behold, 3. 5. 5.6 | And on a Palfrey rides more white then snow, 3. 5. 5.7 | Yet she her selfe is whiter manifold: 3. 5. 5.8 | The surest signe, whereby ye may her know, 3. 5. 5.9 | Is, that she is the fairest wight aliue, I trow. 3. 5. 6.1 | Now certes swaine (said he) such one I weene, 3. 5. 6.2 | Fast flying through this forest from her fo, 3. 5. 6.3 | A foule ill fauoured foster, I haue seene; 3. 5. 6.4 | Her selfe, well as I might, I reskewd tho, 3. 5. 6.5 | But could not stay; so fast she did foregoe, 3. 5. 6.6 | Carried away with wings of speedy feare. 3. 5. 6.7 | Ah dearest God (quoth he) that is great woe, 3. 5. 6.8 | And wondrous ruth to all, that shall it heare. 3. 5. 6.9 | But can ye read Sir, how I may her find, or where? 3. 5. 7.1 | Perdy me leuer were to weeten that, 3. 5. 7.2 | (Said he) then ransome of the richest knight, 3. 5. 7.3 | Or all the good that euer yet I gat: 3. 5. 7.4 | But froward fortune, and too forward Night 3. 5. 7.5 | Such happinesse did, maulgre, to me spight, 3. 5. 7.6 | And fro me reft both life and light attone. 3. 5. 7.7 | But Dwarfe aread, what is that Lady bright, 3. 5. 7.8 | That through this forest wandreth thus alone; 3. 5. 7.9 | For of her errour straunge I haue great ruth and mone. 3. 5. 8.1 | That Lady is (quoth he) where so she bee, 3. 5. 8.2 | The bountiest virgin, and most debonaire, 3. 5. 8.3 | That euer liuing eye I weene did see; 3. 5. 8.4 | Liues none this day, that may with her compare 3. 5. 8.5 | In stedfast chastitie and vertue rare, 3. 5. 8.6 | The goodly ornaments of beautie bright; 3. 5. 8.7 | And is ycleped \Florimell\ the faire, 3. 5. 8.8 | Faire \Florimell\ belou'd of many a knight, 3. 5. 8.9 | Yet she loues none but one, that \Marinell\ is hight. 3. 5. 9.1 | A Sea-nymphes sonne, that \Marinell\ is hight, 3. 5. 9.2 | Of my deare Dame is loued dearely well; 3. 5. 9.3 | In other none, but him, she sets delight, 3. 5. 9.4 | All her delight is set on \Marinell\; 3. 5. 9.5 | But he sets nought at all by \Florimell\: 3. 5. 9.6 | For Ladies loue his mother long ygoe 3. 5. 9.7 | Did him, they say, forwarne through sacred spell. 3. 5. 9.8 | But fame now flies, that of a forreine foe 3. 5. 9.9 | He is yslaine, which is the ground of all our woe. 3. 5.10.1 | Fiue dayes there be, since he (they say) was slaine, 3. 5.10.2 | And foure, since \Florimell\ the Court for-went, 3. 5.10.3 | And vowed neuer to returne againe, 3. 5.10.4 | Till him aliue or dead she did inuent. 3. 5.10.5 | Therefore, faire Sir, for loue of knighthood gent, 3. 5.10.6 | And honour of trew Ladies, if ye may 3. 5.10.7 | By your good counsell, or bold hardiment, 3. 5.10.8 | Or succour her, or me direct the way; 3. 5.10.9 | Do one, or other good, I you most humbly pray. 3. 5.11.1 | So may ye gaine to you full great renowme, 3. 5.11.2 | Of all good Ladies through the world so wide, 3. 5.11.3 | And haply in her hart find highest rowme, 3. 5.11.4 | Of whom ye seeke to be most magnifide: 3. 5.11.5 | At least eternall meede shall you abide. 3. 5.11.6 | To whom the Prince; Dwarfe, comfort to thee take, 3. 5.11.7 | For till thou tidings learne, what her betide, 3. 5.11.8 | I here auow thee neuer to forsake. 3. 5.11.9 | Ill weares he armes, that nill them vse for Ladies sake. 3. 5.12.1 | So with the Dwarfe he backe return'd againe, 3. 5.12.2 | To seeke his Lady, where he mote her find; 3. 5.12.3 | But by the way he greatly gan complaine 3. 5.12.4 | The want of his good Squire late left behind, 3. 5.12.5 | For whom he wondrous pensiue grew in mind, 3. 5.12.6 | For doubt of daunger, which mote him betide; 3. 5.12.7 | For him he loued aboue all mankind, 3. 5.12.8 | Hauing him trew and faithfull euer tride, 3. 5.12.9 | And bold, as euer Squire that waited by knights side. 3. 5.13.1 | Who all this while full hardly was assayd 3. 5.13.2 | Of deadly daunger, which to him betid; 3. 5.13.3 | For whiles his Lord pursewd that noble Mayd, 3. 5.13.4 | After that foster fowle he fiercely rid, 3. 5.13.5 | To bene auenged of the shame, he did 3. 5.13.6 | To that faire Damzell: Him he chaced long 3. 5.13.7 | Through the thicke woods, wherein he would haue hid 3. 5.13.8 | His shamefull head from his auengement strong, 3. 5.13.9 | And oft him threatned death for his outrageous wrong. 3. 5.14.1 | Nathlesse the villen sped him selfe so well, 3. 5.14.2 | Whether through swiftnesse of his speedy beast, 3. 5.14.3 | Or knowledge of those woods, where he did dwell, 3. 5.14.4 | That shortly he from daunger was releast, 3. 5.14.5 | And out of sight escaped at the least; 3. 5.14.6 | Yet not escaped from the dew reward 3. 5.14.7 | Of his bad deeds, which dayly he increast, 3. 5.14.8 | Ne ceased not, till him oppressed hard 3. 5.14.9 | The heauy plague, that for such leachours is prepard. 3. 5.15.1 | For soone as he was vanisht out of sight, 3. 5.15.2 | His coward courage gan emboldned bee, 3. 5.15.3 | And cast t'=auenge him of that fowle despight, 3. 5.15.4 | Which he had borne of his bold enimee. 3. 5.15.5 | Tho to his brethren came: for they were three 3. 5.15.6 | Vngratious children of one gracelesse sire, 3. 5.15.7 | And vnto them complained, how that he 3. 5.15.8 | Had vsed bene of that foolehardy Squire; 3. 5.15.9 | So them with bitter words he stird to bloudy ire. 3. 5.16.1 | Forthwith themselues with their sad instruments 3. 5.16.2 | Of spoyle and murder they gan arme byliue, 3. 5.16.3 | And with him forth into the forest went, 3. 5.16.4 | To wreake the wrath, which he did earst reuiue 3. 5.16.5 | In their sterne brests, on him which late did driue 3. 5.16.6 | Their brother to reproch and shamefull flight: 3. 5.16.7 | For they had vow'd, that neuer he aliue 3. 5.16.8 | Out of that forest should escape their might; 3. 5.16.9 | Vile rancour their rude harts had fild with such despight. 3. 5.17.1 | Within that wood there was a couert glade, 3. 5.17.2 | Foreby a narrow foord, to them well knowne, 3. 5.17.3 | Through which it was vneath for wight to wade; 3. 5.17.4 | And now by fortune it was ouerflowne: 3. 5.17.5 | By that same way they knew that Squire vnknowne 3. 5.17.6 | Mote algates passe; for thy themselues they set 3. 5.17.7 | There in await, with thicke woods ouer growne, 3. 5.17.8 | And all the while their malice they did whet 3. 5.17.9 | With cruell threats, his passage through the ford to let. 3. 5.18.1 | It fortuned, as they deuized had, 3. 5.18.2 | The gentle Squire came ryding that same way, 3. 5.18.3 | Vnweeting of their wile and treason bad, 3. 5.18.4 | And through the ford to passen did assay; 3. 5.18.5 | But that fierce foster, which late fled away, 3. 5.18.6 | Stoutly forth stepping on the further shore, 3. 5.18.7 | Him boldly bad his passage there to stay, 3. 5.18.8 | Till he had made amends, and full restore 3. 5.18.9 | For all the damage, which he had him doen afore. 3. 5.19.1 | With that at him a quiu'ring dart he threw, 3. 5.19.2 | With so fell force and villeinous despighte, 3. 5.19.3 | That through his haberieon the forkehead flew, 3. 5.19.4 | And through the linked mayles empierced quite, 3. 5.19.5 | But had no powre in his soft flesh to bite: 3. 5.19.6 | That stroke the hardy Squire did sore displease, 3. 5.19.7 | But more that him he could not come to smite; 3. 5.19.8 | For by no meanes the high banke he could sease, 3. 5.19.9 | But labour'd long in that deepe ford with vaine disease. 3. 5.20.1 | And still the foster with his long bore-speare 3. 5.20.2 | Him kept from landing at his wished will; 3. 5.20.3 | Anone one sent out of the thicket neare 3. 5.20.4 | A cruell shaft, headed with deadly ill, 3. 5.20.5 | And fethered with an vnlucky quill; 3. 5.20.6 | The wicked steele stayd not, till it did light 3. 5.20.7 | In his left thigh, and deepely did it thrill: 3. 5.20.8 | Exceeding griefe that wound in him empight, 3. 5.20.9 | But more that with his foes he could not come to fight. 3. 5.21.1 | At last through wrath and vengeaunce making way, 3. 5.21.2 | He on the bancke arriu'd with mickle paine, 3. 5.21.3 | Where the third brother him did sore assay, 3. 5.21.4 | And droue at him with all his might and maine 3. 5.21.5 | A forrest bill, which both his hands did straine; 3. 5.21.6 | But warily he did auoide the blow, 3. 5.21.7 | And with his speare requited him againe, 3. 5.21.8 | That both his sides were thrilled with the throw, 3. 5.21.9 | And a large streame of bloud out of the wound did flow. 3. 5.22.1 | He tombling downe, with gnashing teeth did bite 3. 5.22.2 | The bitter earth, and bad to let him in 3. 5.22.3 | Into the balefull house of endlesse night, 3. 5.22.4 | Where wicked ghosts do waile their former sin. 3. 5.22.5 | Tho gan the battell freshly to begin; 3. 5.22.6 | For nathemore for that spectacle bad, 3. 5.22.7 | Did th'=other two their cruell vengeaunce blin, 3. 5.22.8 | But both attonce on both sides him bestad, 3. 5.22.9 | And load vpon him layd, his life for to haue had. 3. 5.23.1 | Tho when that villain he auiz'd, which late 3. 5.23.2 | Affrighted had the fairest \Florimell\, 3. 5.23.3 | Full of fiers fury, and indignant hate, 3. 5.23.4 | To him he turned, and with rigour fell 3. 5.23.5 | Smote him so rudely on the Pannikell, 3. 5.23.6 | That to the chin he cleft his head in twaine: 3. 5.23.7 | Downe on the ground his carkas groueling fell; 3. 5.23.8 | His sinfull soule with desperate disdaine, 3. 5.23.9 | Out of her fleshly ferme fled to the place of paine. 3. 5.24.1 | That seeing now the onely last of three, 3. 5.24.2 | Who with that wicked shaft him wounded had, 3. 5.24.3 | Trembling with horrour, as that did foresee 3. 5.24.4 | The fearefull end of his auengement sad, 3. 5.24.5 | Through which he follow should his brethren bad, 3. 5.24.6 | His bootelesse bow in feeble hand vpcaught, 3. 5.24.7 | And therewith shot an arrow at the lad; 3. 5.24.8 | Which faintly fluttring, scarce his helmet raught, 3. 5.24.9 | And glauncing fell to ground, but him annoyed naught. 3. 5.25.1 | With that he would haue fled into the wood; 3. 5.25.2 | But \Timias\ him lightly ouerhent, 3. 5.25.3 | Right as he entring was into the flood, 3. 5.25.4 | And strooke at him with force so violent, 3. 5.25.5 | That headlesse him into the foord he sent: 3. 5.25.6 | The carkas with the streame was carried downe, 3. 5.25.7 | But th'=head fell backeward on the Continent. 3. 5.25.8 | So mischief fel vpon the meaners crowne; 3. 5.25.9 | They three be dead with shame, the Squire liues with renowne. 3. 5.26.1 | He liues, but takes small ioy of his renowne; 3. 5.26.2 | For of that cruell wound he bled so sore, 3. 5.26.3 | That from his steed he fell in deadly swowne; 3. 5.26.4 | Yet still the bloud forth gusht in so great store, 3. 5.26.5 | That he lay wallowd all in his owne gore. 3. 5.26.6 | Now God thee keepe, thou gentlest Squire aliue, 3. 5.26.7 | Else shall thy louing Lord thee see no more, 3. 5.26.8 | But both of comfort him thou shalt depriue, 3. 5.26.9 | And eke thy selfe of honour, which thou didst atchiue. 3. 5.27.1 | Prouidence heauenly passeth liuing thought, 3. 5.27.2 | And doth for wretched mens reliefe make way; 3. 5.27.3 | For loe great grace or fortune thither brought 3. 5.27.4 | Comfort to him, that comfortlesse now lay. 3. 5.27.5 | In those same woods, ye well remember may, 3. 5.27.6 | How that a noble hunteresse did wonne, 3. 5.27.7 | She, that base \Braggadochio\ did affray, 3. 5.27.8 | And made him fast out of the forrest runne; 3. 5.27.9 | \Belpho+ebe\ was her name, as faire as \Pho+ebus\ sunne. 3. 5.28.1 | She on a day, as she pursewd the chace 3. 5.28.2 | Of some wild beast, which with her arrowes keene 3. 5.28.3 | She wounded had, the same along did trace 3. 5.28.4 | By tract of bloud, which she had freshly seene, 3. 5.28.5 | To haue besprinckled all the grassy greene; 3. 5.28.6 | By the great persue, which she there perceau'd, 3. 5.28.7 | Well hoped she the beast engor'd had beene, 3. 5.28.8 | And made more hast, the life to haue bereau'd: 3. 5.28.9 | But ah, her expectation greatly was deceau'd. 3. 5.29.1 | Shortly she came, whereas that woefull Squire 3. 5.29.2 | With bloud deformed, lay in deadly swownd: 3. 5.29.3 | In whose faire eyes, like lamps of quenched fire, 3. 5.29.4 | The Christall humour stood congealed rownd; 3. 5.29.5 | His locks, like faded leaues fallen to grownd, 3. 5.29.6 | Knotted with bloud, in bounches rudely ran, 3. 5.29.7 | And his sweete lips, on which before that stownd 3. 5.29.8 | The bud of youth to blossome faire began, 3. 5.29.9 | Spoild of their rosie red, were woxen pale and wan. 3. 5.30.1 | Saw neuer liuing eye more heauy sight, 3. 5.30.2 | That could haue made a rocke of stone to rew, 3. 5.30.3 | Or riue in twaine: which when that Lady bright 3. 5.30.4 | Besides all hope with melting eyes did vew, 3. 5.30.5 | All suddeinly abasht she chaunged hew, 3. 5.30.6 | And with sterne horrour backward gan to start: 3. 5.30.7 | But when she better him beheld, she grew 3. 5.30.8 | Full of soft passion and vnwonted smart: 3. 5.30.9 | The point of pitty perced through her tender hart. 3. 5.31.1 | Meekely she bowed downe, to weete if life 3. 5.31.2 | Yet in his frosen members did remaine, 3. 5.31.3 | And feeling by his pulses beating rife, 3. 5.31.4 | That the weake soule her seat did yet retaine, 3. 5.31.5 | She cast to comfort him with busie paine: 3. 5.31.6 | His double folded necke she reard vpright, 3. 5.31.7 | And rubd his temples, and each trembling vaine; 3. 5.31.8 | His mayled haberieon she did vndight, 3. 5.31.9 | And from his head his heauy burganet did light. 3. 5.32.1 | Into the woods thenceforth in hast she went, 3. 5.32.2 | To seeke for hearbes, that mote him remedy; 3. 5.32.3 | For she of hearbes had great intendiment, 3. 5.32.4 | Taught of the Nymphe, which from her infancy 3. 5.32.5 | Her nourced had in trew Nobility: 3. 5.32.6 | There, whether it diuine \Tobacco\ were, 3. 5.32.7 | Or \Panacha+ea\, or \Polygony\, 3. 5.32.8 | She found, and brought it to her patient deare 3. 5.32.9 | Who al this while lay bleeding out his hart-bloud neare. 3. 5.33.1 | The soueraigne weede betwixt two marbles plaine 3. 5.33.2 | She pownded small, and did in peeces bruze, 3. 5.33.3 | And then atweene her lilly handes twaine, 3. 5.33.4 | Into his wound the iuyce thereof did scruze, 3. 5.33.5 | And round about, as she could well it vze, 3. 5.33.6 | The flesh therewith she suppled and did steepe, 3. 5.33.7 | T'=abate all spasme, and soke the swelling bruze, 3. 5.33.8 | And after hauing searcht the intuse deepe, 3. 5.33.9 | She with her scarfe did bind the wound from cold to keepe. 3. 5.34.1 | By this he had sweete life recur'd againe, 3. 5.34.2 | And groning inly deepe, at last his eyes, 3. 5.34.3 | His watry eyes, drizling like deawy raine, 3. 5.34.4 | He vp gan lift toward the azure skies, 3. 5.34.5 | From whence descend all hopelesse remedies: 3. 5.34.6 | Therewith he sigh'd, and turning him aside, 3. 5.34.7 | The goodly Mayd full of diuinities, 3. 5.34.8 | And gifts of heauenly grace he by him spide, 3. 5.34.9 | Her bow and gilden quiuer lying him beside. 3. 5.35.1 | Mercy deare Lord (said he) what grace is this, 3. 5.35.2 | That thou hast shewed to me sinfull wight, 3. 5.35.3 | To send thine Angell from her bowre of blis, 3. 5.35.4 | To comfort me in my distressed plight? 3. 5.35.5 | Angell, or Goddesse do I call thee right? 3. 5.35.6 | What seruice may I do vnto thee meete, 3. 5.35.7 | That hast from darkenesse me returnd to light, 3. 5.35.8 | And with thy heauenly salues and med'cines sweete, 3. 5.35.9 | Hast drest my sinfull wounds? I kisse thy blessed feete. 3. 5.36.1 | Thereat she blushing said, Ah gentle Squire, 3. 5.36.2 | Nor Goddesse I, nor Angell, but the Mayd, 3. 5.36.3 | And daughter of a woody Nymphe, desire 3. 5.36.4 | No seruice, but thy safety and ayd; 3. 5.36.5 | Which if thou gaine, I shalbe well apayd. 3. 5.36.6 | We mortall wights, whose liues and fortunes bee 3. 5.36.7 | To commun accidents still open layd, 3. 5.36.8 | Are bound with commun bond of frailtee, 3. 5.36.9 | To succour wretched wights, whom we captiued see. 3. 5.37.1 | By this her Damzels, which the former chace 3. 5.37.2 | Had vndertaken after her, arriu'd, 3. 5.37.3 | As did \Belpho+ebe\, in the bloudy place, 3. 5.37.4 | And thereby deemd the beast had bene depriu'd 3. 5.37.5 | Of life, whom late their Ladies arrow ryu'd: 3. 5.37.6 | For thy the bloudy tract they follow fast, 3. 5.37.7 | And euery one to runne the swiftest stryu'd; 3. 5.37.8 | But two of them the rest far ouerpast, 3. 5.37.9 | And where their Lady was, arriued at the last. 3. 5.38.1 | Where when they saw that goodly boy, with blood 3. 5.38.2 | Defowled, and their Lady dresse his wownd, 3. 5.38.3 | They wondred much, and shortly vnderstood, 3. 5.38.4 | How him in deadly case their Lady fownd, 3. 5.38.5 | And reskewed out of the heauy stownd. 3. 5.38.6 | Eftsoones his warlike courser, which was strayd 3. 5.38.7 | Farre in the woods, whiles that he lay in swownd, 3. 5.38.8 | She made those Damzels search, which being stayd, 3. 5.38.9 | They did him set thereon, and forth with them conuayd. 3. 5.39.1 | Into that forest farre they thence him led, 3. 5.39.2 | Where was their dwelling, in a pleasant glade, 3. 5.39.3 | With mountaines round about enuironed, 3. 5.39.4 | And mighty woods, which did the valley shade, 3. 5.39.5 | And like a stately Theatre it made, 3. 5.39.6 | Spreading it selfe into a spatious plaine. 3. 5.39.7 | And in the midst a little riuer plaide 3. 5.39.8 | Emongst the pumy stones, which seemd to plaine 3. 5.39.9 | With gentle murmure, that his course they did restraine. 3. 5.40.1 | Beside the same a dainty place there lay, 3. 5.40.2 | Planted with mirtle trees and laurels greene, 3. 5.40.3 | In which the birds song many a louely lay 3. 5.40.4 | Of gods high prayse, and of their loues sweet teene, 3. 5.40.5 | As it an earthly Paradize had beene: 3. 5.40.6 | In whose enclosed shadow there was pight 3. 5.40.7 | A faire Pauilion, scarcely to be seene, 3. 5.40.8 | The which was all within most richly dight, 3. 5.40.9 | That greatest Princes liuing it mote well delight. 3. 5.41.1 | Thither they brought that wounded Squire, and layd 3. 5.41.2 | In easie couch his feeble limbes to rest, 3. 5.41.3 | He rested him a while, and then the Mayd 3. 5.41.4 | His ready wound with better salues new drest; 3. 5.41.5 | Dayly she dressed him, and did the best 3. 5.41.6 | His grieuous hurt to garish, that she might, 3. 5.41.7 | That shortly she his dolour hath redrest, 3. 5.41.8 | And his foule sore reduced to faire plight: 3. 5.41.9 | It she reduced, but himselfe destroyed quight. 3. 5.42.1 | O foolish Physick, and vnfruitfull paine, 3. 5.42.2 | That heales vp one and makes another wound: 3. 5.42.3 | She his hurt thigh to him recur'd againe, 3. 5.42.4 | But hurt his hart, the which before was sound, 3. 5.42.5 | Through an vnwary dart, which did rebound 3. 5.42.6 | From her faire eyes and gracious countenaunce. 3. 5.42.7 | What bootes it him from death to be vnbound, 3. 5.42.8 | To be captiued in endlesse duraunce 3. 5.42.9 | Of sorrow and despaire without aleggeaunce? 3. 5.43.1 | Still as his wound did gather, and grow hole, 3. 5.43.2 | So still his hart woxe sore, and health decayd: 3. 5.43.3 | Madnesse to saue a part, and lose the whole. 3. 5.43.4 | Still whenas he beheld the heauenly Mayd, 3. 5.43.5 | Whiles dayly plaisters to his wound she layd, 3. 5.43.6 | So still his Malady the more increast, 3. 5.43.7 | The whiles her matchlesse beautie him dismayd. 3. 5.43.8 | Ah God, what other could he do at least, 3. 5.43.9 | But loue so faire a Lady, that his life releast? 3. 5.44.1 | Long while he stroue in his courageous brest, 3. 5.44.2 | With reason dew the passion to subdew, 3. 5.44.3 | And loue for to dislodge out of his nest: 3. 5.44.4 | Still when her excellencies he did vew, 3. 5.44.5 | Her soueraigne bounty, and celestiall hew, 3. 5.44.6 | The same to loue he strongly was constraind: 3. 5.44.7 | But when his meane estate he did reuew, 3. 5.44.8 | He from such hardy boldnesse was restraind, 3. 5.44.9 | And of his lucklesse lot and cruell loue thus plaind. 3. 5.45.1 | Vnthankfull wretch (said he) is this the meed, 3. 5.45.2 | With which her soueraigne mercy thou doest quight? 3. 5.45.3 | Thy life she saued by her gracious deed, 3. 5.45.4 | But thou doest weene with villeinous despight, 3. 5.45.5 | To blot her honour, and her heauenly light. 3. 5.45.6 | Dye rather, dye, then so disloyally 3. 5.45.7 | Deeme of her high desert, or seeme so light: 3. 5.45.8 | Faire death it is to shonne more shame, to dy: 3. 5.45.9 | Dye rather, dy, then euer loue disloyally. 3. 5.46.1 | But if to loue disloyalty it bee, 3. 5.46.2 | Shall I then hate her, that from deathes dore 3. 5.46.3 | Me brought? ah farre be such reproch fro mee. 3. 5.46.4 | What can I lesse do, then her loue therefore, 3. 5.46.5 | Sith I her dew reward cannot restore? 3. 5.46.6 | Dye rather, dye, and dying do her serue, 3. 5.46.7 | Dying her serue, and liuing her adore; 3. 5.46.8 | Thy life she gaue, thy life she doth deserue: 3. 5.46.9 | Dye rather, dye, then euer from her seruice swerue. 3. 5.47.1 | But foolish boy, what bootes thy seruice bace 3. 5.47.2 | To her, to whom the heauens do serue and sew? 3. 5.47.3 | Thou a meane Squire, of meeke and lowly place, 3. 5.47.4 | She heauenly borne, and of celestiall hew. 3. 5.47.5 | How then? of all loue taketh equall vew: 3. 5.47.6 | And doth not highest God vouchsafe to take 3. 5.47.7 | The loue and seruice of the basest crew? 3. 5.47.8 | If she will not, dye meekly for her sake; 3. 5.47.9 | Dye rather, dye, then euer so faire loue forsake. 3. 5.48.1 | Thus warreid he long time against his will, 3. 5.48.2 | Till that through weaknesse he was forst at last, 3. 5.48.3 | To yield himselfe vnto the mighty ill: 3. 5.48.4 | Which as a victour proud, gan ransack fast 3. 5.48.5 | His inward parts, and all his entrayles wast, 3. 5.48.6 | That neither bloud in face, nor life in hart 3. 5.48.7 | It left, but both did quite drye vp, and blast; 3. 5.48.8 | As percing leuin, which the inner part 3. 5.48.9 | Of euery thing consumes, and calcineth by art. 3. 5.49.1 | Which seeing faire \Belpho+ebe\, gan to feare, 3. 5.49.2 | Least that his wound were inly well not healed, 3. 5.49.3 | Or that the wicked steele empoysned were: 3. 5.49.4 | Litle she weend, that loue he close concealed; 3. 5.49.5 | Yet still he wasted, as the snow congealed, 3. 5.49.6 | When the bright sunne his beams thereon doth beat; 3. 5.49.7 | Yet neuer he his hart to her reuealed, 3. 5.49.8 | But rather chose to dye for sorrow great, 3. 5.49.9 | Then with dishonorable termes her to entreat. 3. 5.50.1 | She gracious Lady, yet no paines did spare, 3. 5.50.2 | To do him ease, or do him remedy: 3. 5.50.3 | Many Restoratiues of vertues rare, 3. 5.50.4 | And costly Cordialles she did apply, 3. 5.50.5 | To mitigate his stubborne mallady: 3. 5.50.6 | But that sweet Cordiall, which can restore 3. 5.50.7 | A loue-sick hart, she did to him enuy; 3. 5.50.8 | To him, and to all th'=vnworthy world forlore 3. 5.50.9 | She did enuy that soueraigne salue, in secret store. 3. 5.51.1 | That dainty Rose, the daughter of her Morne, 3. 5.51.2 | More deare then life she tendered, whose flowre 3. 5.51.3 | The girlond of her honour did adorne: 3. 5.51.4 | Ne suffred she the Middayes scorching powre, 3. 5.51.5 | Ne the sharp Northerne wind thereon to showre, 3. 5.51.6 | But lapped vp her silken leaues most chaire, 3. 5.51.7 | When so the froward skye began to lowre: 3. 5.51.8 | But soone as calmed was the Christall aire, 3. 5.51.9 | She did it faire dispred, and let to florish faire. 3. 5.52.1 | Eternall God in his almighty powre, 3. 5.52.2 | To make ensample of his heauenly grace, 3. 5.52.3 | In Paradize whilome did plant this flowre, 3. 5.52.4 | Whence he it fetcht out of her natiue place, 3. 5.52.5 | And did in stocke of earthly flesh enrace, 3. 5.52.6 | That mortall men her glory should admire: 3. 5.52.7 | In gentle Ladies brest, and bounteous race 3. 5.52.8 | Of woman kind it fairest flowre doth spire, 3. 5.52.9 | And beareth fruit of honour and all chast desire. 3. 5.53.1 | Faire ympes of beautie, whose bright shining beames 3. 5.53.2 | Adorne the world with like to heauenly light, 3. 5.53.3 | And to your willes both royalties and Realmes 3. 5.53.4 | Subdew, through conquest of your wondrous might, 3. 5.53.5 | With this faire flowre your goodly girlonds dight, 3. 5.53.6 | Of chastity and vertue virginall, 3. 5.53.7 | That shall embellish more your beautie bright, 3. 5.53.8 | And crowne your heades with heauenly coronall, 3. 5.53.9 | Such as the Angels weare before Gods tribunall. 3. 5.54.1 | To youre faire selues a faire ensample frame, 3. 5.54.2 | Of this faire virgin, this \Belpho+ebe\ faire, 3. 5.54.3 | To whom in perfect loue, and spotlesse fame 3. 5.54.4 | Of chastitie, none liuing may compaire: 3. 5.54.5 | Ne poysnous Enuy iustly can empaire 3. 5.54.6 | The prayse of her fresh flowring Maidenhead; 3. 5.54.7 | For thy she standeth on the highest staire 3. 5.54.8 | Of th'=honorable stage of womanhead, 3. 5.54.9 | That Ladies all may follow her ensample dead. 3. 5.55.1 | In so great prayse of stedfast chastity, 3. 5.55.2 | Nathlesse she was so curteous and kind, 3. 5.55.3 | Tempred with grace, and goodly modesty, 3. 5.55.4 | That seemed those two vertues stroue to find 3. 5.55.5 | The higher place in her Heroick mind: 3. 5.55.6 | So striuing each did other more augment, 3. 5.55.7 | And both encreast the prayse of woman kind, 3. 5.55.8 | And both encreast her beautie excellent; 3. 5.55.9 | So all did make in her a perfect complement. 3. 6. A.1 | \The birth of faire Belpho+ebe and\ 3. 6. A.2 | \Of Amoret is told.\ 3. 6. A.3 | \The Gardins of Adonis fraught\ 3. 6. A.4 | \With pleasures manifold.\ 3. 6. 1.1 | Well may I weene, faire Ladies, all this while 3. 6. 1.2 | Ye wonder, how this noble Damozell 3. 6. 1.3 | So great perfections did in her compile, 3. 6. 1.4 | Sith that in saluage forests she did dwell, 3. 6. 1.5 | So farre from court and royall Citadell, 3. 6. 1.6 | The great schoolmistresse of all curtesy: 3. 6. 1.7 | Seemeth that such wild woods should far expell 3. 6. 1.8 | All ciuill vsage and gentility, 3. 6. 1.9 | And gentle sprite deforme with rude rusticity. 3. 6. 2.1 | But to this faire \Belpho+ebe\ in her berth 3. 6. 2.2 | The heauens so fauourable were and free, 3. 6. 2.3 | Looking with myld aspect vpon the earth, 3. 6. 2.4 | In th'=\Horoscope\ of her natiuitee, 3. 6. 2.5 | That all the gifts of grace and chastitee 3. 6. 2.6 | On her they poured forth of plenteous horne; 3. 6. 2.7 | \Ioue\ laught on \Venus\ from his soueraigne see, 3. 6. 2.8 | And \Pho+ebus\ with faire beames did her adorne, 3. 6. 2.9 | And all the \Graces\ rockt her cradle being borne. 3. 6. 3.1 | Her berth was of the wombe of Morning dew, 3. 6. 3.2 | And her conception of the ioyous Prime, 3. 6. 3.3 | And all her whole creation did her shew 3. 6. 3.4 | Pure and vnspotted from all loathly crime, 3. 6. 3.5 | That is ingenerate in fleshly slime. 3. 6. 3.6 | So was this virgin borne, so was she bred, 3. 6. 3.7 | So was she trayned vp from time to time, 3. 6. 3.8 | In all chast vertue, and true bounti-hed 3. 6. 3.9 | Till to her dew perfection she was ripened. 3. 6. 4.1 | Her mother was the faire \Chrysogonee\, 3. 6. 4.2 | The daughter of \Amphisa\, who by race 3. 6. 4.3 | A Faerie was, yborne of high degree, 3. 6. 4.4 | She bore \Belpho+ebe\, she bore in like cace 3. 6. 4.5 | Faire \Amoretta\ in the second place: 3. 6. 4.6 | These two were twinnes, and twixt them two did share 3. 6. 4.7 | The heritage of all celestiall grace. 3. 6. 4.8 | That all the rest it seem'd they robbed bare 3. 6. 4.9 | Of bountie, and of beautie, and all vertues rare. 3. 6. 5.1 | It were a goodly storie, to declare, 3. 6. 5.2 | By what straunge accident faire \Chrysogone\ 3. 6. 5.3 | Conceiu'd these infants, and how them she bare, 3. 6. 5.4 | In this wild forrest wandring all alone, 3. 6. 5.5 | After she had nine moneths fulfild and gone: 3. 6. 5.6 | For not as other wemens commune brood, 3. 6. 5.7 | They were enwombed in the sacred throne 3. 6. 5.8 | Of her chaste bodie, nor with commune food, 3. 6. 5.9 | As other wemens babes, they sucked vitall blood. 3. 6. 6.1 | But wondrously they were begot, and bred 3. 6. 6.2 | Through influence of th'=heauens fruitfull ray, 3. 6. 6.3 | As it in antique bookes is mentioned. 3. 6. 6.4 | It was vpon a Sommers shynie day, 3. 6. 6.5 | When \Titan\ faire his beames did display, 3. 6. 6.6 | In a fresh fountaine, farre from all mens vew, 3. 6. 6.7 | She bath'd her brest, the boyling heat t'=allay; 3. 6. 6.8 | She bath'd with roses red, and violets blew, 3. 6. 6.9 | And all the sweetest flowres, that in the forrest grew. 3. 6. 7.1 | Till faint through irkesome wearinesse, adowne 3. 6. 7.2 | Vpon the grassie ground her selfe she layd 3. 6. 7.3 | To sleepe, the whiles a gentle slombring swowne 3. 6. 7.4 | Vpon her fell all naked bare displayd; 3. 6. 7.5 | The sunne-beames bright vpon her body playd, 3. 6. 7.6 | Being through former bathing mollifide, 3. 6. 7.7 | And pierst into her wombe, where they embayd 3. 6. 7.8 | With so sweet sence and secret power vnspide, 3. 6. 7.9 | That in her pregnant flesh they shortly fructifide. 3. 6. 8.1 | Miraculous may seeme to him, that reades 3. 6. 8.2 | So straunge ensample of conception; 3. 6. 8.3 | But reason teacheth that the fruitfull seades 3. 6. 8.4 | Of all things liuing, through impression 3. 6. 8.5 | Of the sunbeames in moyst complexion, 3. 6. 8.6 | Doe life conceiue and quickned are by kynd: 3. 6. 8.7 | So after \Nilus\ invndation, 3. 6. 8.8 | Infinite shapes of creatures men do fynd, 3. 6. 8.9 | Informed in the mud, on which the Sunne hath shynd. 3. 6. 9.1 | Great father he of generation 3. 6. 9.2 | Is rightly cald, th'=author of life and light; 3. 6. 9.3 | And his faire sister for creation 3. 6. 9.4 | Ministreth matter fit, which tempred right 3. 6. 9.5 | With heate and humour, breedes the liuing wight. 3. 6. 9.6 | So sprong these twinnes in wombe of \Chrysogone\, 3. 6. 9.7 | Yet wist she nought thereof, but sore affright, 3. 6. 9.8 | Wondred to see her belly so vpblone, 3. 6. 9.9 | Which still increast, till she her terme had full outgone. 3. 6.10.1 | Whereof conceiuing shame and foule disgrace, 3. 6.10.2 | Albe her guiltlesse conscience her cleard, 3. 6.10.3 | She fled into the wildernesse a space, 3. 6.10.4 | Till that vnweeldy burden she had reard, 3. 6.10.5 | And shund dishonor, which as death she feard: 3. 6.10.6 | Where wearie of long trauell, downe to rest 3. 6.10.7 | Her selfe she set, and comfortably cheard; 3. 6.10.8 | There a sad cloud of sleepe her ouerkest, 3. 6.10.9 | And seized euery sense with sorrow sore opprest. 3. 6.11.1 | It fortuned, faire \Venus\ hauing lost 3. 6.11.2 | Her little sonne, the winged god of loue, 3. 6.11.3 | Who for some light displeasure, which him crost, 3. 6.11.4 | Was from her fled, as flit as ayerie Doue, 3. 6.11.5 | And left her blisfull bowre of ioy aboue, 3. 6.11.6 | (So from her often he had fled away, 3. 6.11.7 | When she for ought him sharpely did reproue, 3. 6.11.8 | And wandred in the world in strange aray, 3. 6.11.9 | Disguiz'd in thousand shapes, that none might him bewray.) 3. 6.12.1 | Him for to seeke, she left her heauenly hous, 3. 6.12.2 | The house of goodly formes and faire aspects, 3. 6.12.3 | Whence all the world deriues the glorious 3. 6.12.4 | Features of beautie, and all shapes select, 3. 6.12.5 | With which high God his workmanship hath deckt; 3. 6.12.6 | And searched euery way, through which his wings 3. 6.12.7 | Had borne him, or his tract she mote detect: 3. 6.12.8 | She promist kisses sweet, and sweeter things 3. 6.12.9 | Vnto the man, that of him tydings to her brings. 3. 6.13.1 | First she him sought in Court, where most he vsed 3. 6.13.2 | Whylome to haunt, but there she found him not; 3. 6.13.3 | But many there she found, which sore accused 3. 6.13.4 | His falsehood, and with foule infamous blot 3. 6.13.5 | His cruell deedes and wicked wyles did spot: 3. 6.13.6 | Ladies and Lords she euery where mote heare 3. 6.13.7 | Complayning, how with his empoysned shot 3. 6.13.8 | Their wofull harts he wounded had whyleare, 3. 6.13.9 | And so had left them languishing twixt hope and feare. 3. 6.14.1 | She then the Citties sought from gate to gate, 3. 6.14.2 | And euery one did aske, did he him see; 3. 6.14.3 | And euery one her answerd, that too late 3. 6.14.4 | He had him seene, and felt the crueltie 3. 6.14.5 | Of his sharpe darts and whot artillerie; 3. 6.14.6 | And euery one threw forth reproches rife 3. 6.14.7 | Of his mischieuous deedes, and said, That hee 3. 6.14.8 | Was the disturber of all ciuill life, 3. 6.14.9 | The enimy of peace, and author of all strife. 3. 6.15.1 | Then in the countrey she abroad him sought, 3. 6.15.2 | And in the rurall cottages inquired, 3. 6.15.3 | Where also many plaints to her were brought, 3. 6.15.4 | How he their heedlesse harts with loue had fyred, 3. 6.15.5 | And his false venim through their veines inspyred; 3. 6.15.6 | And eke the gentle shepheard swaynes, which sat 3. 6.15.7 | Keeping their fleecie flockes, as they were hyred, 3. 6.15.8 | She sweetly heard complaine, both how and what 3. 6.15.9 | Her sonne had to them doen; yet she did smile thereat. 3. 6.16.1 | But when in none of all these she him got, 3. 6.16.2 | She gan auize, where else he mote him hyde: 3. 6.16.3 | At last she her bethought, that she had not 3. 6.16.4 | Yet sought the saluage woods and forrests wyde, 3. 6.16.5 | In which full many louely Nymphes abyde, 3. 6.16.6 | Mongst whom might be, that he did closely lye, 3. 6.16.7 | Or that the loue of some of them him tyde: 3. 6.16.8 | For thy she thither cast her course t'=apply, 3. 6.16.9 | To search the secret haunts of \Dianes\ company. 3. 6.17.1 | Shortly vnto the wastefull woods she came, 3. 6.17.2 | Whereas she found the Goddesse with her crew, 3. 6.17.3 | After late chace of their embrewed game, 3. 6.17.4 | Sitting beside a fountaine in a rew, 3. 6.17.5 | Some of them washing with the liquid dew 3. 6.17.6 | From off their dainty limbes the dustie sweat, 3. 6.17.7 | And soyle which did deforme their liuely hew; 3. 6.17.8 | Others lay shaded from the scorching heat; 3. 6.17.9 | The rest vpon her person gaue attendance great. 3. 6.18.1 | She hauing hong vpon a bough on high 3. 6.18.2 | Her bow and painted quiuer, had vnlaste 3. 6.18.3 | Her siluer buskins from her nimble thigh, 3. 6.18.4 | And her lancke loynes vngirt, and brests vnbraste, 3. 6.18.5 | After her heat the breathing cold to taste; 3. 6.18.6 | Her golden lockes, that late in tresses bright 3. 6.18.7 | Embreaded were for hindring of her haste, 3. 6.18.8 | Now loose about her shoulders hong vndight, 3. 6.18.9 | And were with sweet \Ambrosia\ all besprinckled light. 3. 6.19.1 | Soone as she \Venus\ saw behind her backe, 3. 6.19.2 | She was asham'd to be so loose surprized, 3. 6.19.3 | And woxe halfe wroth against her damzels slacke, 3. 6.19.4 | That had not her thereof before auized, 3. 6.19.5 | But suffred her so carelesly disguized 3. 6.19.6 | Be ouertaken. Soone her garments loose 3. 6.19.7 | Vpgath'ring, in her bosome she comprized, 3. 6.19.8 | Well as she might, and to the Goddesse rose, 3. 6.19.9 | Whiles all her Nymphes did like a girlond her enclose. 3. 6.20.1 | Goodly she gan faire \Cytherea\ greet, 3. 6.20.2 | And shortly asked her, what cause her brought 3. 6.20.3 | Into that wildernesse for her vnmeet, 3. 6.20.4 | From her sweet bowres, and beds with pleasures fraught: 3. 6.20.5 | That suddein change she strange aduenture thought. 3. 6.20.6 | To whom halfe weeping, she thus answered, 3. 6.20.7 | That she her dearest sonne \Cupido\ sought, 3. 6.20.8 | Who in his frowardnesse from her was fled; 3. 6.20.9 | That she repented sore, to haue him angered. 3. 6.21.1 | Thereat \Diana\ gan to smile, in scorne 3. 6.21.2 | Of her vaine plaint, and to her scoffing sayd; 3. 6.21.3 | Great pittie sure, that ye be so forlorne 3. 6.21.4 | Of your gay sonne, that giues ye so good ayd 3. 6.21.5 | To your disports: ill mote ye bene apayd. 3. 6.21.6 | But she was more engrieued, and replide; 3. 6.21.7 | Faire sister, ill beseemes it to vpbrayd 3. 6.21.8 | A dolefull heart with so disdainfull pride; 3. 6.21.9 | The like that mine, may be your paine another tide. 3. 6.22.1 | As you in woods and wanton wildernesse 3. 6.22.2 | Your glory set, to chace the saluage beasts, 3. 6.22.3 | So my delight is all in ioyfulnesse, 3. 6.22.4 | In beds, in bowres, in banckets, and in feasts: 3. 6.22.5 | And ill becomes you with your loftie creasts, 3. 6.22.6 | To scorne the ioy, that \Ioue\ is glad to seeke; 3. 6.22.7 | We both are bound to follow heauens beheasts, 3. 6.22.8 | And tend our charges with obeisance meeke: 3. 6.22.9 | Spare, gentle sister, with reproch my paine to eeke. 3. 6.23.1 | And tell me, if that ye my sonne haue heard, 3. 6.23.2 | To lurke emongst your Nymphes in secret wize; 3. 6.23.3 | Or keepe their cabins: much I am affeard, 3. 6.23.4 | Least he like one of them him selfe disguize, 3. 6.23.5 | And turne his arrowes to their exercize: 3. 6.23.6 | So may he long himselfe full easie hide: 3. 6.23.7 | For he is faire and fresh in face and guize, 3. 6.23.8 | As any Nymph (let not it be enuyde.) 3. 6.23.9 | So saying euery Nymph full narrowly she eyde. 3. 6.24.1 | But \Pho+ebe\ therewith sore was angered, 3. 6.24.2 | And sharply said; Goe Dame, goe seeke your boy, 3. 6.24.3 | Where you him lately left, in \Mars\ his bed; 3. 6.24.4 | He comes not here, we scorne his foolish ioy, 3. 6.24.5 | Ne lend we leisure to his idle toy: 3. 6.24.6 | But if I catch him in this company, 3. 6.24.7 | By \Stygian\ lake I vow, whose sad annoy 3. 6.24.8 | The Gods doe dread, he dearely shall abye: 3. 6.24.9 | Ile clip his wanton wings, that he no more shall fly. 3. 6.25.1 | Whom when as \Venus\ saw so sore displeased, 3. 6.25.2 | She inly sory was, and gan relent, 3. 6.25.3 | What she had said: so her she soone appeased, 3. 6.25.4 | With sugred words and gentle blandishment, 3. 6.25.5 | Which as a fountaine from her sweet lips went, 3. 6.25.6 | And welled goodly forth, that in short space 3. 6.25.7 | She was well pleasd, and forth her damzels sent, 3. 6.25.8 | Through all the woods, to search from place to place, 3. 6.25.9 | If any tract of him or tydings they mote trace. 3. 6.26.1 | To search the God of loue, her Nymphes she sent 3. 6.26.2 | Throughout the wandring forrest euery where: 3. 6.26.3 | And after them her selfe eke with her went 3. 6.26.4 | To seeke the fugitiue, both farre and nere, 3. 6.26.5 | So long they sought, till they arriued were 3. 6.26.6 | In that same shadie couert, whereas lay 3. 6.26.7 | Faire \Crysogone\ in slombry traunce whilere: 3. 6.26.8 | Who in her sleepe (a wondrous thing to say) 3. 6.26.9 | Vnwares had borne two babes, as faire as springing day. 3. 6.27.1 | Vnwares she them conceiu'd, vnwares she bore: 3. 6.27.2 | She bore withouten paine, that she conceiued 3. 6.27.3 | Withouten pleasure: ne her need implore 3. 6.27.4 | \Lucinaes\ aide: which when they both perceiued, 3. 6.27.5 | They were through wonder nigh of sense bereaued, 3. 6.27.6 | And gazing each on other, nought bespake: 3. 6.27.7 | At last they both agreed, her seeming grieued 3. 6.27.8 | Out of her heauy swowne not to awake, 3. 6.27.9 | But from her louing side the tender babes to take. 3. 6.28.1 | Vp they them tooke, each one a babe vptooke, 3. 6.28.2 | And with them carried, to be fostered; 3. 6.28.3 | Dame \Pho+ebe\ to a Nymph her babe betooke, 3. 6.28.4 | To be vpbrought in perfect Maydenhed, 3. 6.28.5 | And of her selfe her name \Belpho+ebe\ red: 3. 6.28.6 | But \Venus\ hers thence farre away conuayd, 3. 6.28.7 | To be vpbrought in goodly womanhed, 3. 6.28.8 | And in her litle loues stead, which was strayd, 3. 6.28.9 | Her \Amoretta\ cald, to comfort her dismayd. 3. 6.29.1 | She brought her to her ioyous Paradize, 3. 6.29.2 | Where most she wonnes, when she on earth does dwel. 3. 6.29.3 | So faire a place, as Nature can deuize: 3. 6.29.4 | Whether in \Paphos\, or \Cytheron\ hill, 3. 6.29.5 | Or it in \Gnidus\ be, I wote not well; 3. 6.29.6 | But well I wote by tryall, that this same 3. 6.29.7 | All other pleasant places doth excell, 3. 6.29.8 | And called is by her lost louers name, 3. 6.29.9 | The \Gardin\ of \Adonis\, farre renowmd by fame. 3. 6.30.1 | In that same Gardin all the goodly flowres, 3. 6.30.2 | Wherewith dame Nature doth her beautifie, 3. 6.30.3 | And decks the girlonds of her paramoures, 3. 6.30.4 | Are fetcht: there is the first seminarie 3. 6.30.5 | Of all things, that are borne to liue and die, 3. 6.30.6 | According to their kindes. Long worke it were, 3. 6.30.7 | Here to account the endlesse progenie 3. 6.30.8 | Of all the weedes, that bud and blossome there; 3. 6.30.9 | But so much as doth need, must needs be counted here. 3. 6.31.1 | It sited was in fruitfull soyle of old, 3. 6.31.2 | And girt in with two walles on either side; 3. 6.31.3 | The one of yron, the other of bright gold, 3. 6.31.4 | That none might thorough breake, nor ouer-stride: 3. 6.31.5 | And double gates it had, which opened wide, 3. 6.31.6 | By which both in and out men moten pas; 3. 6.31.7 | Th'=one faire and fresh, the other old and dride: 3. 6.31.8 | Old \Genius\ the porter of them was, 3. 6.31.9 | Old \Genius\, the which a double nature has. 3. 6.32.1 | He letteth in, he letteth out to wend, 3. 6.32.2 | All that to come into the world desire; 3. 6.32.3 | A thousand thousand naked babes attend 3. 6.32.4 | About him day and night, which doe require, 3. 6.32.5 | That he with fleshly weedes would them attire: 3. 6.32.6 | Such as him list, such as eternall fate 3. 6.32.7 | Ordained hath, he clothes with sinfull mire, 3. 6.32.8 | And sendeth forth to liue in mortall state, 3. 6.32.9 | Till they againe returne backe by the hinder gate. 3. 6.33.1 | After that they againe returned beene, 3. 6.33.2 | They in that Gardin planted be againe; 3. 6.33.3 | And grow afresh, as they had neuer seene 3. 6.33.4 | Fleshly corruption, nor mortall paine. 3. 6.33.5 | Some thousand yeares so doen they there remaine; 3. 6.33.6 | And then of him are clad with other hew, 3. 6.33.7 | Or sent into the chaungefull world againe, 3. 6.33.8 | Till thither they returne, where first they grew: 3. 6.33.9 | So like a wheele around they runne from old to new. 3. 6.34.1 | Ne needs there Gardiner to set, or sow, 3. 6.34.2 | To plant or prune: for of their owne accord 3. 6.34.3 | All things, as they created were, doe grow, 3. 6.34.4 | And yet remember well the mightie word, 3. 6.34.5 | Which first was spoken by th'=Almightie lord, 3. 6.34.6 | That bad them to increase and multiply: 3. 6.34.7 | Ne doe they need with water of the ford, 3. 6.34.8 | Or of the clouds to moysten their roots dry; 3. 6.34.9 | For in themselues eternall moisture they imply. 3. 6.35.1 | Infinite shapes of creatures there are bred, 3. 6.35.2 | And vncouth formes, which none yet euer knew, 3. 6.35.3 | And euery sort is in a sundry bed 3. 6.35.4 | Set by it selfe, and ranckt in comely rew: 3. 6.35.5 | Some fit for reasonable soules t'=indew, 3. 6.35.6 | Some made for beasts, some made for birds to weare, 3. 6.35.7 | And all the fruitfull spawne of fishes hew 3. 6.35.8 | In endlesse rancks along enraunged were, 3. 6.35.9 | That seem'd the \Ocean\ could not containe them there. 3. 6.36.1 | Daily they grow, and daily forth are sent 3. 6.36.2 | Into the world, it to replenish more; 3. 6.36.3 | Yet is the stocke not lessened, nor spent, 3. 6.36.4 | But still remaines in euerlasting store, 3. 6.36.5 | As it at first created was of yore. 3. 6.36.6 | For in the wide wombe of the world there lyes, 3. 6.36.7 | In hatefull darkenesse and in deepe horrore, 3. 6.36.8 | An huge eternall \Chaos\, which supplyes 3. 6.36.9 | The substances of natures fruitfull progenyes. 3. 6.37.1 | All things from thence doe their first being fetch, 3. 6.37.2 | And borrow matter, whereof they are made, 3. 6.37.3 | Which when as forme and feature it does ketch, 3. 6.37.4 | Becomes a bodie, and doth then inuade 3. 6.37.5 | The state of life, out of the griesly shade. 3. 6.37.6 | That substance is eterne, and bideth so, 3. 6.37.7 | Ne when the life decayes, and forme does fade, 3. 6.37.8 | Doth it consume, and into nothing go, 3. 6.37.9 | But chaunged is, and often altred to and fro. 3. 6.38.1 | The substance is not chaunged, nor altered, 3. 6.38.2 | But th'=only forme and outward fashion; 3. 6.38.3 | For euery substance is conditioned 3. 6.38.4 | To change her hew, and sundry formes to don, 3. 6.38.5 | Meet for her temper and complexion: 3. 6.38.6 | For formes are variable and decay, 3. 6.38.7 | By course of kind, and by occasion; 3. 6.38.8 | And that faire flowre of beautie fades away, 3. 6.38.9 | As doth the lilly fresh before the sunny ray. 3. 6.39.1 | Great enimy to it, and to all the rest, 3. 6.39.2 | That in the \Gardin\ of \Adonis\ springs, 3. 6.39.3 | Is wicked \Time\, who with his scyth addrest, 3. 6.39.4 | Does mow the flowring herbes and goodly things, 3. 6.39.5 | And all their glory to the ground downe flings, 3. 6.39.6 | Where they doe wither, and are fowly mard: 3. 6.39.7 | He flyes about, and with his flaggy wings 3. 6.39.8 | Beates downe both leaues and buds without regard, 3. 6.39.9 | Ne euer pittie may relent his malice hard. 3. 6.40.1 | Yet pittie often did the gods relent, 3. 6.40.2 | To see so faire things mard, and spoyled quight: 3. 6.40.3 | And their great mother \Venus\ did lament 3. 6.40.4 | The losse of her deare brood, her deare delight: 3. 6.40.5 | Her hart was pierst with pittie at the sight, 3. 6.40.6 | When walking through the Gardin, them she spyde, 3. 6.40.7 | Yet no'te she find redresse for such despight. 3. 6.40.8 | For all that liues, is subiect to that law: 3. 6.40.9 | All things decay in time, and to their end do draw. 3. 6.41.1 | But were it not, that \Time\ their troubler is, 3. 6.41.2 | All that in this delightfull Gardin growes, 3. 6.41.3 | Should happie be, and haue immortall blis: 3. 6.41.4 | For here all plentie, and all pleasure flowes, 3. 6.41.5 | And sweet loue gentle fits emongst them throwes, 3. 6.41.6 | Without fell rancor, or fond gealosie; 3. 6.41.7 | Franckly each paramour his leman knowes, 3. 6.41.8 | Each bird his mate, ne any does enuie 3. 6.41.9 | Their goodly meriment, and gay felicitie. 3. 6.42.1 | There is continuall spring, and haruest there 3. 6.42.2 | Continuall, both meeting at one time: 3. 6.42.3 | For both the boughes doe laughing blossomes beare, 3. 6.42.4 | And with fresh colours decke the wanton Prime, 3. 6.42.5 | And eke attonce the heauy trees they clime, 3. 6.42.6 | Which seeme to labour vnder their fruits lode: 3. 6.42.7 | The whiles the ioyous birdes make their pastime 3. 6.42.8 | Emongst the shadie leaues, their sweet abode, 3. 6.42.9 | And their true loues without suspition tell abrode. 3. 6.43.1 | Right in the middest of that Paradise, 3. 6.43.2 | There stood a stately Mount, on whose round top 3. 6.43.3 | A gloomy groue of mirtle trees did rise, 3. 6.43.4 | Whose shadie boughes sharpe steele did neuer lop, 3. 6.43.5 | Nor wicked beasts their tender buds did crop, 3. 6.43.6 | But like a girlond compassed the hight, 3. 6.43.7 | And from their fruitfull sides sweet gum did drop, 3. 6.43.8 | That all the ground with precious deaw bedight, 3. 6.43.9 | Threw forth most dainty odours, and most sweet delight. 3. 6.44.1 | And in the thickest couert of that shade, 3. 6.44.2 | There was a pleasant arbour, not by art, 3. 6.44.3 | But of the trees owne inclination made, 3. 6.44.4 | Which knitting their rancke braunches part to part, 3. 6.44.5 | With wanton yuie twyne entrayld athwart, 3. 6.44.6 | And Eglantine, and Caprifole emong, 3. 6.44.7 | Fashiond aboue within their inmost part, 3. 6.44.8 | That nether \Pho+ebus\ beams could through them throng, 3. 6.44.9 | Nor \Aeolus\ sharp blast could worke them any wrong. 3. 6.45.1 | And all about grew euery sort of flowre, 3. 6.45.2 | To which sad louers were transformd of yore; 3. 6.45.3 | Fresh \Hyacinthus\, \Pho+ebus\ paramoure, 3. 6.45.4 | And dearest loue, 3. 6.45.5 | Foolish \Narcisse\, that likes the watry shore, 3. 6.45.6 | Sad \Amaranthus\, made a flowre but late, 3. 6.45.7 | Sad \Amaranthus\, in whose purple gore 3. 6.45.8 | Me seemes I see \Amintas\ wretched fate, 3. 6.45.9 | To whom sweet Poets verse hath giuen endlesse date. 3. 6.46.1 | There wont faire \Venus\ often to enioy 3. 6.46.2 | Her deare \Adonis\ ioyous company, 3. 6.46.3 | And reape sweet pleasure of the wanton boy; 3. 6.46.4 | There yet, some say, in secret he does ly, 3. 6.46.5 | Lapped in flowres and pretious spycery, 3. 6.46.6 | By her hid from the world, and from the skill 3. 6.46.7 | Of \Stygian\ Gods, which doe her loue enuy; 3. 6.46.8 | But she her selfe, when euer that she will, 3. 6.46.9 | Possesseth him, and of his sweetnesse takes her fill. 3. 6.47.1 | And sooth it seemes they say: for he may not 3. 6.47.2 | For euer die, and euer buried bee 3. 6.47.3 | In balefull night, where all things are forgot; 3. 6.47.4 | All be he subiect to mortalitie, 3. 6.47.5 | Yet is eterne in mutabilitie, 3. 6.47.6 | And by succession made perpetuall, 3. 6.47.7 | Transformed oft, and chaunged diuerslie: 3. 6.47.8 | For him the Father of all formes they call; 3. 6.47.9 | Therefore needs mote he liue, that liuing giues to all. 3. 6.48.1 | There now he liueth in eternall blis, 3. 6.48.2 | Ioying his goddesse, and of her enioyd: 3. 6.48.3 | Ne feareth he henceforth that foe of his, 3. 6.48.4 | Which with his cruell tuske him deadly cloyd: 3. 6.48.5 | For that wilde Bore, the which him once annoyd, 3. 6.48.6 | She firmely hath emprisoned for ay, 3. 6.48.7 | That her sweet loue his malice mote auoyd, 3. 6.48.8 | In a strong rocky Caue, which is they say, 3. 6.48.9 | Hewen vnderneath that Mount, that none him losen may. 3. 6.49.1 | There now he liues in euerlasting ioy, 3. 6.49.2 | With many of the Gods in company, 3. 6.49.3 | Which thither haunt, and with the winged boy 3. 6.49.4 | Sporting himselfe in safe felicity: 3. 6.49.5 | Who when he hath with spoiles and cruelty 3. 6.49.6 | Ransackt the world, and in the wofull harts 3. 6.49.7 | Of many wretches set his triumphes hye, 3. 6.49.8 | Thither resorts, and laying his sad darts 3. 6.49.9 | Aside, with faire \Adonis\ playes his wanton parts. 3. 6.50.1 | And his true loue faire \Psyche\ with him playes, 3. 6.50.2 | Faire \Psyche\ to him lately reconcyld, 3. 6.50.3 | After long troubles and vnmeet vpbrayes, 3. 6.50.4 | With which his mother \Venus\ her reuyld, 3. 6.50.5 | And eke himselfe her cruelly exyld: 3. 6.50.6 | But now in stedfast loue and happy state 3. 6.50.7 | She with him liues, and hath him borne a chyld, 3. 6.50.8 | \Pleasure\, that doth both gods and men aggrate, 3. 6.50.9 | \Pleasure\, the daughter of \Cupid\ and \Psyche\ late. 3. 6.51.1 | Hither great \Venus\ brought this infant faire, 3. 6.51.2 | The younger daughter of \Chrysogonee\, 3. 6.51.3 | And vnto \Psyche\ with great trust and care 3. 6.51.4 | Committed her, yfostered to bee, 3. 6.51.5 | And trained vp in true feminitee: 3. 6.51.6 | Who no lesse carefully her tendered, 3. 6.51.7 | Then her owne daughter \Pleasure\, to whom shee 3. 6.51.8 | Made her companion, and her lessoned 3. 6.51.9 | In all the lore of loue, and goodly womanhead. 3. 6.52.1 | In which when she to perfect ripenesse grew, 3. 6.52.2 | Of grace and beautie noble Paragone, 3. 6.52.3 | She brought her forth into the worldes vew, 3. 6.52.4 | To be th'=ensample of true loue alone, 3. 6.52.5 | And Lodestarre of all chaste affectione, 3. 6.52.6 | To all faire Ladies, that doe liue on ground. 3. 6.52.7 | To Faery court she came, where many one 3. 6.52.8 | Admyrd her goodly haueour, and found 3. 6.52.9 | His feeble hart wide launched with loues cruell wound. 3. 6.53.1 | But she to none of them her loue did cast, 3. 6.53.2 | Saue to the noble knight Sir \Scudamore\, 3. 6.53.3 | To whom her louing hart she linked fast 3. 6.53.4 | In faithfull loue, t'=abide for euermore, 3. 6.53.5 | And for his dearest sake endured sore, 3. 6.53.6 | Sore trouble of an hainous enimy; 3. 6.53.7 | Who her would forced haue to haue forlore 3. 6.53.8 | Her former loue, and stedfast loialty, 3. 6.53.9 | As ye may elsewhere read that ruefull history. 3. 6.54.1 | But well I weene, ye first desire to learne, 3. 6.54.2 | What end vnto that fearefull Damozell, 3. 6.54.3 | Which fled so fast from that same foster stearne, 3. 6.54.4 | Whom with his brethren \Timias\ slew, befell: 3. 6.54.5 | That was to weet, the goodly \Florimell\; 3. 6.54.6 | Who wandring for to seeke her louer deare, 3. 6.54.7 | Her louer deare, her dearest \Marinell\, 3. 6.54.8 | Into misfortune fell, as ye did heare, 3. 6.54.9 | And from Prince \Arthur\ fled with wings of idle feare. 3. 7. A.1 | \The witches sonne loues Florimell:\ 3. 7. A.2 | \she flyes, he faines to die.\ 3. 7. A.3 | \Satyrane saues the Squire of Dames\ 3. 7. A.4 | \from Gyants tyrannie.\ 3. 7. 1.1 | Like as an Hynd forth singled from the heard, 3. 7. 1.2 | That hath escaped from a rauenous beast, 3. 7. 1.3 | Yet flyes away of her owne feet affeard, 3. 7. 1.4 | And euery leafe, that shaketh with the least 3. 7. 1.5 | Murmure of winde, her terror hath encreast; 3. 7. 1.6 | So fled faire \Florimell\ from her vaine feare, 3. 7. 1.7 | Long after she from perill was releast: 3. 7. 1.8 | Each shade she saw, and each noyse she did heare, 3. 7. 1.9 | Did seeme to be the same, which she escapt whyleare. 3. 7. 2.1 | All that same euening she in flying spent, 3. 7. 2.2 | And all that night her course continewed: 3. 7. 2.3 | Ne did she let dull sleepe once to relent, 3. 7. 2.4 | Nor wearinesse to slacke her hast, but fled 3. 7. 2.5 | Euer alike, as if her former dred 3. 7. 2.6 | Were hard behind, her readie to arrest: 3. 7. 2.7 | And her white Palfrey hauing conquered 3. 7. 2.8 | The maistring raines out of her weary wrest, 3. 7. 2.9 | Perforce her carried, where euer he thought best. 3. 7. 3.1 | So long as breath, and hable puissance 3. 7. 3.2 | Did natiue courage vnto him supply, 3. 7. 3.3 | His pace he freshly forward did aduaunce, 3. 7. 3.4 | And carried her beyond all ieopardy, 3. 7. 3.5 | But nought that wanteth rest, can long aby. 3. 7. 3.6 | He hauing through incessant trauell spent 3. 7. 3.7 | His force, at last perforce a downe did ly, 3. 7. 3.8 | Ne foot could further moue: The Lady gent 3. 7. 3.9 | Thereat was suddein strooke with great astonishment. 3. 7. 4.1 | And forst t'=alight, on foot mote algates fare, 3. 7. 4.2 | A traueller vnwonted to such way: 3. 7. 4.3 | Need teacheth her this lesson hard and rare, 3. 7. 4.4 | That fortune all in equall launce doth sway, 3. 7. 4.5 | And mortall miseries doth make her play. 3. 7. 4.6 | So long she trauelled, till at length she came 3. 7. 4.7 | To an hilles side, which did to her bewray 3. 7. 4.8 | A little valley, subiect to the same, 3. 7. 4.9 | All couerd with thick woods, that quite it ouercame. 3. 7. 5.1 | Through the tops of the high trees she did descry 3. 7. 5.2 | A litle smoke, whose vapour thin and light, 3. 7. 5.3 | Reeking aloft, vprolled to the sky: 3. 7. 5.4 | Which, chearefull signe did send vnto her sight, 3. 7. 5.5 | That in the same did wonne some liuing wight. 3. 7. 5.6 | Eftsoones her steps she thereunto applyde, 3. 7. 5.7 | And came at last in weary wretched plight 3. 7. 5.8 | Vnto the place, to which her hope did guyde, 3. 7. 5.9 | To find some refuge there, and rest her weary syde. 3. 7. 6.1 | There in a gloomy hollow glen she found 3. 7. 6.2 | A little cottage, built of stickes and reedes 3. 7. 6.3 | In homely wize, and wald with sods around, 3. 7. 6.4 | In which a witch did dwell, in loathly weedes, 3. 7. 6.5 | And wilfull want, all carelesse of her needes; 3. 7. 6.6 | So choosing solitarie to abide, 3. 7. 6.7 | Far from all neighbours, that her deuilish deedes 3. 7. 6.8 | And hellish arts from people she might hide, 3. 7. 6.9 | And hurt far off vnknowne, whom euer she enuide. 3. 7. 7.1 | The Damzell there arriuing entred in; 3. 7. 7.2 | Where sitting on the flore the Hag she found, 3. 7. 7.3 | Busie (as seem'd) about some wicked gin: 3. 7. 7.4 | Who soone as she beheld that suddein stound, 3. 7. 7.5 | Lightly vpstarted from the dustie ground, 3. 7. 7.6 | And with fell looke and hollow deadly gaze 3. 7. 7.7 | Stared on her awhile, as one astound, 3. 7. 7.8 | Ne had one word to speake, for great amaze, 3. 7. 7.9 | But shewd by outward signes, that dread her sence did daze. 3. 7. 8.1 | At last turning her feare to foolish wrath, 3. 7. 8.2 | She askt, what deuill had her thither brought, 3. 7. 8.3 | And who she was, and what vnwonted path 3. 7. 8.4 | Had guided her, vnwelcomed, vnsought? 3. 7. 8.5 | To which the Damzell full of doubtfull thought, 3. 7. 8.6 | Her mildly answer'd; Beldame be not wroth 3. 7. 8.7 | With silly Virgin by aduenture brought 3. 7. 8.8 | Vnto your dwelling, ignorant and loth, 3. 7. 8.9 | That craue but rowme to rest, while tempest ouerblo'th. 3. 7. 9.1 | With that adowne out of her Christall eyne 3. 7. 9.2 | Few trickling teares she softly forth let fall, 3. 7. 9.3 | That like two Orient pearles, did purely shyne 3. 7. 9.4 | Vpon her snowy cheeke; and therewithall 3. 7. 9.5 | She sighed soft, that none so bestiall, 3. 7. 9.6 | Nor saluage hart, but ruth of her sad plight 3. 7. 9.7 | Would make to melt, or pitteously appall; 3. 7. 9.8 | And that vile Hag, all were her whole delight 3. 7. 9.9 | In mischiefe, was much moued at so pitteous sight. 3. 7.10.1 | And gan recomfort her in her rude wyse, 3. 7.10.2 | With womanish compassion of her plaint, 3. 7.10.3 | Wiping the teares from her suffused eyes, 3. 7.10.4 | And bidding her sit downe, to rest her faint 3. 7.10.5 | And wearie limbs a while. She nothing quaint 3. 7.10.6 | Nor s'=deignfull of so homely fashion, 3. 7.10.7 | Sith brought she was now to so hard constraint, 3. 7.10.8 | Sate downe vpon the dusty ground anon, 3. 7.10.9 | As glad of that small rest, as Bird of tempest gon. 3. 7.11.1 | Tho gan she gather vp her garments rent, 3. 7.11.2 | And her loose lockes to dight in order dew, 3. 7.11.3 | With golden wreath and gorgeous ornament; 3. 7.11.4 | Whom such whenas the wicked Hag did vew, 3. 7.11.5 | She was astonisht at her heauenly hew, 3. 7.11.6 | And doubted her to deeme an earthly wight, 3. 7.11.7 | But or some Goddesse, or of \Dianes\ crew, 3. 7.11.8 | And thought her to adore with humble spright; 3. 7.11.9 | T'=adore thing so diuine as beauty, were but right. 3. 7.12.1 | This wicked woman had a wicked sonne, 3. 7.12.2 | The comfort of her age and weary dayes, 3. 7.12.3 | A laesie loord, for nothing good to donne, 3. 7.12.4 | But stretched forth in idlenesse alwayes, 3. 7.12.5 | Ne euer cast his mind to couet prayse, 3. 7.12.6 | Or ply him selfe to any honest trade, 3. 7.12.7 | But all the day before the sunny rayes 3. 7.12.8 | He vs'd to slug, or sleepe in slothfull shade: 3. 7.12.9 | Such laesinesse both lewd and poore attonce him made. 3. 7.13.1 | He comming home at vndertime, there found 3. 7.13.2 | The fairest creature, that he euer saw, 3. 7.13.3 | Sitting beside his mother on the ground; 3. 7.13.4 | The sight whereof did greatly him adaw, 3. 7.13.5 | And his base thought with terrour and with aw 3. 7.13.6 | So inly smot, that as one, which had gazed 3. 7.13.7 | On the bright Sunne vnwares, doth soone withdraw 3. 7.13.8 | His feeble eyne, with too much brightnesse dazed, 3. 7.13.9 | So stared he on her, and stood long while amazed. 3. 7.14.1 | Softly at last he gan his mother aske, 3. 7.14.2 | What mister wight that was, and whence deriued, 3. 7.14.3 | That in so straunge disguizement there did maske, 3. 7.14.4 | And by what accident she there arriued: 3. 7.14.5 | But she, as one nigh of her wits depriued, 3. 7.14.6 | With nought but ghastly lookes him answered, 3. 7.14.7 | Like to a ghost, that lately is reuiued 3. 7.14.8 | From \Stygian\ shores, where late it wandered; 3. 7.14.9 | So both at her, and each at other wondered. 3. 7.15.1 | But the faire Virgin was so meeke and mild, 3. 7.15.2 | That she to them vouchsafed to embace 3. 7.15.3 | Her goodly port, and to their senses vild, 3. 7.15.4 | Her gentle speach applide, that in short space 3. 7.15.5 | She grew familiare in that desert place. 3. 7.15.6 | During which time, the Chorle through her so kind 3. 7.15.7 | And curteise vse conceiu'd affection bace, 3. 7.15.8 | And cast to loue her in his brutish mind; 3. 7.15.9 | No loue, but brutish lust, that was so beastly tind. 3. 7.16.1 | Closely the wicked flame his bowels brent, 3. 7.16.2 | And shortly grew into outrageous fire; 3. 7.16.3 | Yet had he not the hart, nor hardiment, 3. 7.16.4 | As vnto her to vtter his desire; 3. 7.16.5 | His caytiue thought durst not so high aspire, 3. 7.16.6 | But with soft sighes, and louely semblaunces, 3. 7.16.7 | He ween'd that his affection entire 3. 7.16.8 | She should aread; many resemblaunces 3. 7.16.9 | To her he made, and many kind remembraunces. 3. 7.17.1 | Oft from the forrest wildings he did bring, 3. 7.17.2 | Whose sides empurpled were with smiling red, 3. 7.17.3 | And oft young birds, which he had taught to sing 3. 7.17.4 | His mistresse prayses, sweetly caroled, 3. 7.17.5 | Girlonds of flowres sometimes for her faire hed 3. 7.17.6 | He fine would dight; sometimes the squirell wild 3. 7.17.7 | He brought to her in bands, as conquered 3. 7.17.8 | To be her thrall, his fellow seruant vild; 3. 7.17.9 | All which, she of him tooke with countenance meeke and mild. 3. 7.18.1 | But past awhile, when she fit season saw 3. 7.18.2 | To leaue that desert mansion, she cast 3. 7.18.3 | In secret wize her selfe thence to withdraw, 3. 7.18.4 | For feare of mischiefe, which she did forecast 3. 7.18.5 | Might be by the witch or that her sonne compast: 3. 7.18.6 | Her wearie Palfrey closely, as she might, 3. 7.18.7 | Now well recouered after long repast, 3. 7.18.8 | In his proud furnitures she freshly dight, 3. 7.18.9 | His late miswandred wayes now to remeasure right. 3. 7.19.1 | And earely ere the dawning day appeard, 3. 7.19.2 | She forth issewed, and on her iourney went; 3. 7.19.3 | She went in perill, of each noyse affeard, 3. 7.19.4 | And of each shade, that did it selfe present; 3. 7.19.5 | For still she feared to be ouerhent, 3. 7.19.6 | Of that vile hag, or her vnciuile sonne: 3. 7.19.7 | Who when too late awaking, well they kent, 3. 7.19.8 | That their faire guest was gone, they both begonne 3. 7.19.9 | To make exceeding mone, as they had bene vndonne. 3. 7.20.1 | But that lewd louer did the most lament 3. 7.20.2 | For her depart, that euer man did heare; 3. 7.20.3 | He knockt his brest with desperate intent, 3. 7.20.4 | And scratcht his face, and with his teeth did teare 3. 7.20.5 | His rugged flesh, and rent his ragged heare: 3. 7.20.6 | That his sad mother seeing his sore plight, 3. 7.20.7 | Was greatly woe begon, and gan to feare, 3. 7.20.8 | Least his fraile senses were emperisht quight, 3. 7.20.9 | And loue to frenzy turnd, sith loue is franticke hight. 3. 7.21.1 | All wayes she sought, him to restore to plight, 3. 7.21.2 | With herbs, with charms, with counsell, and with teares, 3. 7.21.3 | But tears, nor charms, nor herbs, nor counsell might 3. 7.21.4 | Asswage the fury, which his entrails teares: 3. 7.21.5 | So strong is passion, that no reason heares. 3. 7.21.6 | Tho when all other helpes she saw to faile, 3. 7.21.7 | She turnd her selfe backe to her wicked leares 3. 7.21.8 | And by her deuilish arts thought to preuaile, 3. 7.21.9 | To bring her backe againe, or worke her finall bale. 3. 7.22.1 | Eftsoones out of her hidden caue she cald 3. 7.22.2 | An hideous beast, of horrible aspect, 3. 7.22.3 | That could the stoutest courage haue appald; 3. 7.22.4 | Monstrous mishapt, and all his backe was spect 3. 7.22.5 | With thousand spots of colours queint elect, 3. 7.22.6 | Thereto so swift, that it all beasts did pas: 3. 7.22.7 | Like neuer yet did liuing eye detect; 3. 7.22.8 | But likest it to an \Hyena\ was, 3. 7.22.9 | That feeds on womens flesh, as others feede on gras. 3. 7.23.1 | It forth she cald, and gaue it streight in charge, 3. 7.23.2 | Through thicke and thin her to pursew apace, 3. 7.23.3 | Ne once to stay to rest, or breath at large, 3. 7.23.4 | Till her he had attaind, and brought in place, 3. 7.23.5 | Or quite deuourd her beauties scornefull grace. 3. 7.23.6 | The Monster swift as word, that from her went, 3. 7.23.7 | Went forth in hast, and did her footing trace 3. 7.23.8 | So sure and swiftly, through his perfect sent, 3. 7.23.9 | And passing speede, that shortly he her ouerhent. 3. 7.24.1 | Whom when the fearefull Damzell nigh espide, 3. 7.24.2 | No need to bid her fast away to flie; 3. 7.24.3 | That vgly shape so sore her terrifide, 3. 7.24.4 | That it she shund no lesse, then dread to die, 3. 7.24.5 | And her flit Palfrey did so well apply 3. 7.24.6 | His nimble feet to her conceiued feare, 3. 7.24.7 | That whilest his breath did strength to him supply, 3. 7.24.8 | From perill free he her away did beare: 3. 7.24.9 | But when his force gan faile, his pace gan wex areare. 3. 7.25.1 | Which whenas she perceiu'd, she was dismayd 3. 7.25.2 | At that same last extremitie full sore, 3. 7.25.3 | And of her safetie greatly grew afrayd; 3. 7.25.4 | And now she gan approch to the sea shore, 3. 7.25.5 | As it befell, that she could flie no more, 3. 7.25.6 | But yield her selfe to spoile of greedinesse. 3. 7.25.7 | Lightly she leaped, as a wight forlore, 3. 7.25.8 | From her dull horse, in desperate distresse, 3. 7.25.9 | And to her feet betooke her doubtfull sickernesse. 3. 7.26.1 | Not halfe so fast the wicked \Myrrha\ fled 3. 7.26.2 | From dread of her reuenging fathers hond: 3. 7.26.3 | Nor halfe so fast to saue her maidenhed, 3. 7.26.4 | Fled fearefull \Daphne\ on th'=\A+Ega+ean\ strond, 3. 7.26.5 | As \Florimell\ fled from that Monster yond, 3. 7.26.6 | To reach the sea, ere she of him were raught: 3. 7.26.7 | For in the sea to drowne her selfe she fond, 3. 7.26.8 | Rather then of the tyrant to be caught: 3. 7.26.9 | Thereto feare gaue her wings, and neede her courage taught. 3. 7.27.1 | It fortuned (high God did so ordaine) 3. 7.27.2 | As she arriued on the roring shore, 3. 7.27.3 | In minde to leape into the mighty maine, 3. 7.27.4 | A little boate lay houing her before, 3. 7.27.5 | In which there slept a fisher old and pore, 3. 7.27.6 | The whiles his nets were drying on the sand: 3. 7.27.7 | Into the same she leapt, and with the ore 3. 7.27.8 | Did thrust the shallop from the floting strand: 3. 7.27.9 | So safetie found at sea, which she found not at land. 3. 7.28.1 | The Monster ready on the pray to sease, 3. 7.28.2 | Was of his forward hope deceiued quight; 3. 7.28.3 | Ne durst assay to wade the perlous seas, 3. 7.28.4 | But greedily long gaping at the sight, 3. 7.28.5 | At last in vaine was forst to turne his flight, 3. 7.28.6 | And tell the idle tidings to his Dame: 3. 7.28.7 | Yet to auenge his deuilish despight, 3. 7.28.8 | He set vpon her Palfrey tired lame, 3. 7.28.9 | And slew him cruelly, ere any reskew came. 3. 7.29.1 | And after hauing him embowelled, 3. 7.29.2 | To fill his hellish gorge, it chaunst a knight 3. 7.29.3 | To passe that way, as forth he trauelled; 3. 7.29.4 | It was a goodly Swaine, and of great might, 3. 7.29.5 | As euer man that bloudy field did fight; 3. 7.29.6 | But in vaine sheows, that wont yong knights bewitch, 3. 7.29.7 | And courtly seruices tooke no delight, 3. 7.29.8 | But rather ioyd to be, then seemen sich: 3. 7.29.9 | For both to be and seeme to him was labour lich. 3. 7.30.1 | It was to weete the good Sir \Satyrane\, 3. 7.30.2 | That raungd abroad to seeke aduentures wilde, 3. 7.30.3 | As was his wont in forrest, and in plaine; 3. 7.30.4 | He was all armd in rugged steele vnfilde, 3. 7.30.5 | As in the smoky forge it was compilde, 3. 7.30.6 | And in his Scutchin bore a Satyres hed: 3. 7.30.7 | He comming present, where the Monster vilde 3. 7.30.8 | Vpon that milke-white Palfreyes carkas fed, 3. 7.30.9 | Vnto his reskew ran, and greedily him sped. 3. 7.31.1 | There well perceiu'd he, that it was the horse, 3. 7.31.2 | Whereon faire \Florimell\ was wont to ride, 3. 7.31.3 | That of that feend was rent without remorse: 3. 7.31.4 | Much feared he, least ought did ill betide 3. 7.31.5 | To that faire Mayd, the flowre of womens pride; 3. 7.31.6 | For her he dearely loued, and in all 3. 7.31.7 | His famous conquests highly magnifide: 3. 7.31.8 | Besides her golden girdle, which did fall 3. 7.31.9 | From her in flight, he found, that did him sore apall. 3. 7.32.1 | Full of sad feare, and doubtfull agony, 3. 7.32.2 | Fiercely he flew vpon that wicked feend, 3. 7.32.3 | And with huge strokes, and cruell battery 3. 7.32.4 | Him forst to leaue his pray, for to attend 3. 7.32.5 | Him selfe from deadly daunger to defend: 3. 7.32.6 | Full many wounds in his corrupted flesh 3. 7.32.7 | He did engraue, and muchell bloud did spend, 3. 7.32.8 | Yet might not do him dye, but aye more fresh 3. 7.32.9 | And fierce he still appeard, the more he did him thresh. 3. 7.33.1 | He wist not, how him to despoile of life, 3. 7.33.2 | Ne how to win the wished victory, 3. 7.33.3 | Sith him he saw still stronger grow through strife, 3. 7.33.4 | And him selfe weaker through infirmity; 3. 7.33.5 | Greatly he grew enrag'd, and furiously 3. 7.33.6 | Hurling his sword away, he lightly lept 3. 7.33.7 | Vpon the beast, that with great cruelty 3. 7.33.8 | Rored, and raged to be vnder-kept: 3. 7.33.9 | Yet he perforce him held, and strokes vpon him hept. 3. 7.34.1 | As he that striues to stop a suddein flood, 3. 7.34.2 | And in strong banckes his violence enclose, 3. 7.34.3 | Forceth it swell aboue his wonted mood, 3. 7.34.4 | And largely ouerflow the fruitfull plaine, 3. 7.34.5 | That all the countrey seemes to be a Maine, 3. 7.34.6 | And the rich furrowes flote, all quite fordonne: 3. 7.34.7 | The wofull husbandman doth lowd complaine, 3. 7.34.8 | To see his whole yeares labour lost so soone, 3. 7.34.9 | For which to God he made so many an idle boone. 3. 7.35.1 | So him he held, and did through might amate: 3. 7.35.2 | So long he held him, and him bet so long, 3. 7.35.3 | That at the last his fiercenesse gan abate, 3. 7.35.4 | And meekely stoup vnto the victour strong: 3. 7.35.5 | Who to auenge the implacable wrong, 3. 7.35.6 | Which he supposed donne to \Florimell\, 3. 7.35.7 | Sought by all meanes his dolour to prolong, 3. 7.35.8 | Sith dint of steele his carcas could not quell: 3. 7.35.9 | His maker with her charmes had framed him so well. 3. 7.36.1 | The golden ribband, which that virgin wore 3. 7.36.2 | About her sclender wast, he tooke in hand, 3. 7.36.3 | And with it bound the beast, that lowd did rore 3. 7.36.4 | For great despight of that vnwonted band, 3. 7.36.5 | Yet dared not his victour to withstand, 3. 7.36.6 | But trembled like a lambe, fled from the pray, 3. 7.36.7 | And all the way him followd on the strand, 3. 7.36.8 | As he had long bene learned to obay; 3. 7.36.9 | Yet neuer learned he such seruice, till that day. 3. 7.37.1 | Thus as he led the Beast along the way, 3. 7.37.2 | He spide far off a mighty Giauntesse, 3. 7.37.3 | Fast flying on a Courser dapled gray, 3. 7.37.4 | From a bold knight, that with great hardinesse 3. 7.37.5 | Her hard pursewd, and sought for to suppresse; 3. 7.37.6 | She bore before her lap a dolefull Squire, 3. 7.37.7 | Lying athwart her horse in great distresse, 3. 7.37.8 | Fast bounden hand and foote with cords of wire, 3. 7.37.9 | Whom she did meane to make the thrall of her desire. 3. 7.38.1 | Which whenas \Satyrane\ beheld, in hast 3. 7.38.2 | He left his captiue Beast at liberty, 3. 7.38.3 | And crost the nearest way, by which he cast 3. 7.38.4 | Her to encounter, ere she passed by: 3. 7.38.5 | But she the way shund nathemore for thy, 3. 7.38.6 | But forward gallopt fast; which when he spyde, 3. 7.38.7 | His mighty speare he couched warily, 3. 7.38.8 | And at her ran: she hauing him descryde, 3. 7.38.9 | Her selfe to fight addrest, and threw her lode aside. 3. 7.39.1 | Like as a Goshauke, that in foote doth beare 3. 7.39.2 | A trembling Culuer, hauing spide on hight 3. 7.39.3 | An Egle, that with plumy wings doth sheare 3. 7.39.4 | The subtile ayre, stouping with all his might, 3. 7.39.5 | The quarrey throwes to ground with fell despight, 3. 7.39.6 | And to the battell doth her selfe prepare: 3. 7.39.7 | So ran the Geauntesse vnto the fight; 3. 7.39.8 | Her firie eyes with furious sparkes did stare, 3. 7.39.9 | And with blasphemous bannes high God in peeces tare. 3. 7.40.1 | She caught in hand an huge great yron mace, 3. 7.40.2 | Wherewith she many had of life depriued, 3. 7.40.3 | But ere the stroke could seize his aymed place, 3. 7.40.4 | His speare amids her sun-broad shield arriued; 3. 7.40.5 | Yet nathemore the steele a sunder riued, 3. 7.40.6 | All were the beame in bignesse like a mast, 3. 7.40.7 | Ne her out of the stedfast sadle driued, 3. 7.40.8 | But glauncing on the tempred mettall, brast 3. 7.40.9 | In thousand shiuers, and so forth beside her past. 3. 7.41.1 | Her Steed did stagger with that puissaunt strooke; 3. 7.41.2 | But she no more was moued with that might, 3. 7.41.3 | Then it had lighted on an aged Oke; 3. 7.41.4 | Or on the marble Pillour, that is pight 3. 7.41.5 | Vpon the top of Mount \Olympus\ hight, 3. 7.41.6 | For the braue youthly Champions to assay, 3. 7.41.7 | With burning charet wheeles it nigh to smite: 3. 7.41.8 | But who that smites it, mars his ioyous play, 3. 7.41.9 | And is the spectacle of ruinous decay. 3. 7.42.1 | Yet therewith sore enrag'd, with sterne regard 3. 7.42.2 | Her dreadfull weapon she to him addrest, 3. 7.42.3 | Which on his helmet martelled so hard, 3. 7.42.4 | That made him low incline his lofty crest, 3. 7.42.5 | And bowd his battred visour to his brest: 3. 7.42.6 | Wherewith he was so stund, that he n'ote ryde, 3. 7.42.7 | But reeled to and fro from East to West: 3. 7.42.8 | Which when his cruell enimy espyde, 3. 7.42.9 | She lightly vnto him adioyned side to syde; 3. 7.43.1 | And on his collar laying puissant hand, 3. 7.43.2 | Out of his wauering seat him pluckt perforse, 3. 7.43.3 | Perforse him pluckt, vnable to withstand, 3. 7.43.4 | Or helpe himselfe, and laying thwart her horse, 3. 7.43.5 | In loathly wise like to a carion corse, 3. 7.43.6 | She bore him fast away. Which when the knight, 3. 7.43.7 | That her pursewed, saw, with great remorse 3. 7.43.8 | He neare was touched in his noble spright, 3. 7.43.9 | And gan encrease his speed, as she encreast her flight. 3. 7.44.1 | Whom when as nigh approching she espyde, 3. 7.44.2 | She threw away her burden angrily; 3. 7.44.3 | For she list not the battell to abide, 3. 7.44.4 | But made her selfe more light, away to fly: 3. 7.44.5 | Yet her the hardy knight pursewd so nye, 3. 7.44.6 | That almost in the backe he oft her strake: 3. 7.44.7 | But still when him at hand she did espy, 3. 7.44.8 | She turnd, and semblaunce of faire fight did make; 3. 7.44.9 | But when he stayd, to flight againe she did her take. 3. 7.45.1 | By this the good Sir \Satyrane\ gan wake 3. 7.45.2 | Out of his dreame, that did him long entraunce, 3. 7.45.3 | And seeing none in place, he gan to make 3. 7.45.4 | Exceeding mone, and curst that cruell chaunce, 3. 7.45.5 | Which reft from him so faire a cheuisaunce: 3. 7.45.6 | At length he spide, whereas that wofull Squire, 3. 7.45.7 | Whom he had reskewed from captiuaunce 3. 7.45.8 | Of his strong foe, lay tombled in the myre, 3. 7.45.9 | Vnable to arise, or foot or hand to styre. 3. 7.46.1 | To whom approching, well he mote perceiue 3. 7.46.2 | In that foule plight a comely personage, 3. 7.46.3 | And louely face, made fit for to deceiue 3. 7.46.4 | Fraile Ladies hart with loues consuming rage, 3. 7.46.5 | Now in the blossome of his freshest age: 3. 7.46.6 | He reard him vp, and loosd his yron bands, 3. 7.46.7 | And after gan inquire his parentage, 3. 7.46.8 | And how he fell into that Gyaunts hands, 3. 7.46.9 | And who that was, which chaced her along the lands. 3. 7.47.1 | Then trembling yet through feare, the Squire bespake, 3. 7.47.2 | That Geauntesse \Argante\ is behight, 3. 7.47.3 | A daughter of the \Titans\ which did make 3. 7.47.4 | Warre against heauen, and heaped hils on hight, 3. 7.47.5 | To scale the skyes, and put \Ioue\ from his right: 3. 7.47.6 | Her sire \Typho+eus\ was, who mad through merth, 3. 7.47.7 | And drunke with bloud of men, slaine by his might, 3. 7.47.8 | Through incest, her of his owne mother Earth 3. 7.47.9 | Whilome begot, being but halfe twin of that berth. 3. 7.48.1 | For at that berth another Babe she bore, 3. 7.48.2 | To weet the mighty \Ollyphant\, that wrought 3. 7.48.3 | Great wreake to many errant knights of yore, 3. 7.48.4 | And many hath to foule confusion brought. 3. 7.48.5 | These twinnes, men say, (a thing far passing thought) 3. 7.48.6 | Whiles in their mothers wombe enclosd they were, 3. 7.48.7 | Ere they into the lightsome world were brought, 3. 7.48.8 | In fleshly lust were mingled both yfere, 3. 7.48.9 | And in that monstrous wise did to the world appere. 3. 7.49.1 | So liu'd they euer after in like sin, 3. 7.49.2 | Gainst natures law, and good behauioure: 3. 7.49.3 | But greatest shame was to that maiden twin, 3. 7.49.4 | Who not content so fowly to deuoure 3. 7.49.5 | Her natiue flesh, and staine her brothers bowre, 3. 7.49.6 | Did wallow in all other fleshly myre, 3. 7.49.7 | And suffred beasts her body to deflowre: 3. 7.49.8 | So whot she burned in that lustfull fyre, 3. 7.49.9 | Yet all that might not slake her sensuall desyre. 3. 7.50.1 | But ouer all the countrey she did raunge, 3. 7.50.2 | To seeke young men, to quench her flaming thrust, 3. 7.50.3 | And feed her fancy with delightfull chaunge: 3. 7.50.4 | Whom so she fittest finds to serue her lust, 3. 7.50.5 | Through her maine strength, in which she most doth trust, 3. 7.50.6 | She with her brings into a secret Ile, 3. 7.50.7 | Where in eternall bondage dye he must, 3. 7.50.8 | Or be the vassall of her pleasures vile, 3. 7.50.9 | And in all shamefull sort him selfe with her defile. 3. 7.51.1 | Me seely wretch she so at vauntage caught, 3. 7.51.2 | After she long in waite for me did lye, 3. 7.51.3 | And meant vnto her prison to haue brought, 3. 7.51.4 | Her lothsome pleasure there to satisfye; 3. 7.51.5 | That thousand deathes me leuer were to dye, 3. 7.51.6 | Then breake the vow, that to faire \Columbell\ 3. 7.51.7 | I plighted haue, and yet keepe stedfastly: 3. 7.51.8 | As for my name, it mistreth not to tell; 3. 7.51.9 | Call me the \Squyre of Dames\, that me beseemeth well. 3. 7.52.1 | But that bold knight, whom ye pursuing saw 3. 7.52.2 | That Geauntesse, is not such, as she seemed, 3. 7.52.3 | But a faire virgin, that in martiall law, 3. 7.52.4 | And deedes of armes aboue all Dames is deemed, 3. 7.52.5 | And aboue many knights is eke esteemed, 3. 7.52.6 | For her great worth; She \Palladine\ is hight: 3. 7.52.7 | She you from death, you me from dread redeemed. 3. 7.52.8 | Ne any may that Monster match in fight, 3. 7.52.9 | But she, or such as she, that is so chaste a wight. 3. 7.53.1 | Her well beseemes that Quest (quoth \Satyrane\) 3. 7.53.2 | But read, thou \Squyre of Dames\, what vow is this, 3. 7.53.3 | Which thou vpon thy selfe hast lately ta'ne? 3. 7.53.4 | That shall I you recount (quoth he) ywis, 3. 7.53.5 | So be ye pleasd to pardon all amis. 3. 7.53.6 | That gentle Lady, whom I loue and serue, 3. 7.53.7 | After long suit and weary seruicis, 3. 7.53.8 | Did aske me, how I could her loue deserue, 3. 7.53.9 | And how she might be sure, that I would neuer swerue. 3. 7.54.1 | I glad by any meanes her grace to gaine, 3. 7.54.2 | Bad her commaund my life to saue, or spill. 3. 7.54.3 | Eftsoones she bad me, with incessaunt paine 3. 7.54.4 | To wander through the world abroad at will, 3. 7.54.5 | And euery where, where with my power or skill 3. 7.54.6 | I might do seruice vnto gentle Dames, 3. 7.54.7 | That I the same should faithfully fulfill, 3. 7.54.8 | And at the twelue monethes end should bring their names 3. 7.54.9 | And pledges; as the spoiles of my victorious games. 3. 7.55.1 | So well I to faire Ladies seruice did, 3. 7.55.2 | And found such fauour in their louing hartes, 3. 7.55.3 | That ere the yeare his course had compassid, 3. 7.55.4 | Three hundred pledges for my good desartes, 3. 7.55.5 | And thrise three hundred thanks for my good partes 3. 7.55.6 | I with me brought, and did to her present: 3. 7.55.7 | Which when she saw, more bent to eke my smartes, 3. 7.55.8 | Then to reward my trusty true intent, 3. 7.55.9 | She gan for me deuise a grieuous punishment. 3. 7.56.1 | To weet, that I my trauell should resume, 3. 7.56.2 | And with like labour walke the world around, 3. 7.56.3 | Ne euer to her presence should presume, 3. 7.56.4 | Till I so many other Dames had found, 3. 7.56.5 | The which, for all the suit I could propound, 3. 7.56.6 | Would me refuse their pledges to afford, 3. 7.56.7 | But did abide for euer chast and sound. 3. 7.56.8 | Ah gentle Squire (quoth he) tell at one word, 3. 7.56.9 | How many foundst thou such to put in thy record? 3. 7.57.1 | In deed Sir knight (said he) one word may tell 3. 7.57.2 | All, that I euer found so wisely stayd; 3. 7.57.3 | For onely three they were disposd so well, 3. 7.57.4 | And yet three yeares I now abroad haue strayd, 3. 7.57.5 | To find them out. Mote I (then laughing sayd 3. 7.57.6 | The knight) inquire of thee, what were those three, 3. 7.57.7 | The which thy proffred curtesie denayd? 3. 7.57.8 | Or ill they seemed sure auizd to bee, 3. 7.57.9 | Or brutishly brought vp, that neu'r did fashions see. 3. 7.58.1 | The first which then refused me (said hee) 3. 7.58.2 | Certes was but a common Courtisane, 3. 7.58.3 | Yet flat refusd to haue a do with mee, 3. 7.58.4 | Because I could not giue her many a Iane. 3. 7.58.5 | (Thereat full hartely laughed \Satyrane\) 3. 7.58.6 | The second was an holy Nunne to chose, 3. 7.58.7 | Which would not let me be her Chappellane, 3. 7.58.8 | Because she knew, she said, I would disclose 3. 7.58.9 | Her counsell, if she should her trust in me repose. 3. 7.59.1 | The third a Damzell was of low degree, 3. 7.59.2 | Whom I in countrey cottage found by chaunce; 3. 7.59.3 | Full little weened I, that chastitee 3. 7.59.4 | Had lodging in so meane a maintenaunce, 3. 7.59.5 | Yet was she faire, and in her countenance 3. 7.59.6 | Dwelt simple truth in seemely fashion. 3. 7.59.7 | Long thus I woo'd her with dew obseruance, 3. 7.59.8 | In hope vnto my pleasure to haue won; 3. 7.59.9 | But was as farre at last, as when I first begon. 3. 7.60.1 | Safe her, I neuer any woman found, 3. 7.60.2 | That chastity did for it selfe embrace, 3. 7.60.3 | But were for other causes firme and sound; 3. 7.60.4 | Either for want of handsome time and place, 3. 7.60.5 | Or else for feare of shame and fowle disgrace. 3. 7.60.6 | Thus am I hopelesse euer to attaine 3. 7.60.7 | My Ladies loue, in such a desperate case, 3. 7.60.8 | But all my dayes am like to wast in vaine, 3. 7.60.9 | Seeking to match the chaste with th'=vnchaste Ladies traine. 3. 7.61.1 | Perdy, (said \Satyrane\) thou \Squire of Dames\, 3. 7.61.2 | Great labour fondly hast thou hent in hand, 3. 7.61.3 | To get small thankes, and therewith many blames, 3. 7.61.4 | That may emongst \Alcides\ labours stand. 3. 7.61.5 | Thence backe returning to the former land, 3. 7.61.6 | Where late he left the Beast, he ouercame, 3. 7.61.7 | He found him not; for he had broke his band, 3. 7.61.8 | And was return'd againe vnto his Dame, 3. 7.61.9 | To tell what tydings of faire \Florimell\ became. 3. 8. A.1 | \The Witch creates a snowy Lady,\ 3. 8. A.2 | \like to Florimell,\ 3. 8. A.3 | \Who wrongd by Carle by Proteus sau'd,\ 3. 8. A.4 | \is sought by Paridell.\ 3. 8. 1.1 | So oft as I this history record, 3. 8. 1.2 | My hart doth melt with meere compassion, 3. 8. 1.3 | To thinke, how causelesse of her owne accord 3. 8. 1.4 | This gentle Damzell, whom I write vpon, 3. 8. 1.5 | Should plonged be in such affliction, 3. 8. 1.6 | Without all hope of comfort or reliefe, 3. 8. 1.7 | That sure I weene, the hardest hart of stone, 3. 8. 1.8 | Would hardly find to aggrauate her griefe; 3. 8. 1.9 | For misery craues rather mercie, then repriefe. 3. 8. 2.1 | But that accursed Hag, her hostesse late, 3. 8. 2.2 | Had so enranckled her malitious hart, 3. 8. 2.3 | That she desyrd th'=abridgement of her fate, 3. 8. 2.4 | Or long enlargement of her painefull smart. 3. 8. 2.5 | Now when the Beast, which by her wicked art 3. 8. 2.6 | Late forth she sent, she backe returning spyde, 3. 8. 2.7 | Tyde with her broken girdle, it a part 3. 8. 2.8 | Of her rich spoyles, whom he had earst destroyd, 3. 8. 2.9 | She weend, and wondrous gladnesse to her hart applyde. 3. 8. 3.1 | And with it running hast'ly to her sonne, 3. 8. 3.2 | Thought with that sight him much to haue reliued; 3. 8. 3.3 | Who thereby deeming sure the thing as donne, 3. 8. 3.4 | His former griefe with furie fresh reuiued, 3. 8. 3.5 | Much more then earst, and would haue algates riued 3. 8. 3.6 | The hart out of his brest: for sith her ded 3. 8. 3.7 | He surely dempt, himselfe he thought depriued 3. 8. 3.8 | Quite of all hope, wherewith he long had fed 3. 8. 3.9 | His foolish maladie, and long time had misled. 3. 8. 4.1 | With thought whereof, exceeding mad he grew, 3. 8. 4.2 | And in his rage his mother would haue slaine, 3. 8. 4.3 | Had she not fled into a secret mew, 3. 8. 4.4 | Where she was wont her Sprights to entertaine 3. 8. 4.5 | The maisters of her art: there was she faine 3. 8. 4.6 | To call them all in order to her ayde, 3. 8. 4.7 | And them coniure vpon eternall paine, 3. 8. 4.8 | To counsell her so carefully dismayd, 3. 8. 4.9 | How she might heale her sonne, whose senses were decayd. 3. 8. 5.1 | By their aduise, and her owne wicked wit, 3. 8. 5.2 | She there deuiz'd a wondrous worke to frame, 3. 8. 5.3 | Whose like on earth was neuer framed yit, 3. 8. 5.4 | That euen Nature selfe enuide the same, 3. 8. 5.5 | And grudg'd to see the counterfet should shame 3. 8. 5.6 | The thing it selfe. In hand she boldly tooke 3. 8. 5.7 | To make another like the former Dame, 3. 8. 5.8 | Another \Florimell\, in shape and looke 3. 8. 5.9 | So liuely and so like, that many it mistooke. 3. 8. 6.1 | The substance, whereof she the bodie made, 3. 8. 6.2 | Was purest snow in massie mould congeald, 3. 8. 6.3 | Which she had gathered in a shadie glade 3. 8. 6.4 | Of the \Ripho+ean\ hils, to her reueald 3. 8. 6.5 | By errant Sprights, but from all men conceald: 3. 8. 6.6 | The same she tempred with fine Mercury, 3. 8. 6.7 | And virgin wex, that neuer yet was seald, 3. 8. 6.8 | And mingled them with perfect vermily, 3. 8. 6.9 | That like a liuely sanguine it seem'd to the eye. 3. 8. 7.1 | In stead of eyes two burning lampes she set 3. 8. 7.2 | In siluer sockets, shyning like the skyes, 3. 8. 7.3 | And a quicke mouing Spirit did arret 3. 8. 7.4 | To stirre and roll them, like a womans eyes; 3. 8. 7.5 | In stead of yellow lockes she did deuise, 3. 8. 7.6 | With golden wyre to weaue her curled head; 3. 8. 7.7 | Yet golden wyre was not so yellow thrise 3. 8. 7.8 | As \Florimells\ faire haire: and in the stead 3. 8. 7.9 | Of life, she put a Spright to rule the carkasse dead. 3. 8. 8.1 | A wicked Spright yfraught with fawning guile, 3. 8. 8.2 | And faire resemblance aboue all the rest, 3. 8. 8.3 | Which with the Prince of Darknesse fell somewhile, 3. 8. 8.4 | From heauens blisse and euerlasting rest; 3. 8. 8.5 | Him needed not instruct, which way were best 3. 8. 8.6 | Himselfe to fashion likest \Florimell\, 3. 8. 8.7 | Ne how to speake, ne how to vse his gest, 3. 8. 8.8 | For he in counterfeisance did excell, 3. 8. 8.9 | And all the wyles of wemens wits knew passing well. 3. 8. 9.1 | Him shaped thus, she deckt in garments gay, 3. 8. 9.2 | Which \Florimell\ had left behind her late, 3. 8. 9.3 | That who so then her saw, would surely say, 3. 8. 9.4 | It was her selfe, whom it did imitate, 3. 8. 9.5 | Or fairer then her selfe, if ought algate 3. 8. 9.6 | Might fairer be. And then she forth her brought 3. 8. 9.7 | Vnto her sonne, that lay in feeble state; 3. 8. 9.8 | Who seeing her gan streight vpstart, and thought 3. 8. 9.9 | She was the Lady selfe, whom he so long had sought. 3. 8.10.1 | Tho fast her clipping twixt his armes twaine, 3. 8.10.2 | Extremely ioyed in so happie sight, 3. 8.10.3 | And soone forgot his former sickly paine; 3. 8.10.4 | But she, the more to seeme such as she hight, 3. 8.10.5 | Coyly rebutted his embracement light; 3. 8.10.6 | Yet still with gentle countenaunce retained, 3. 8.10.7 | Enough to hold a foole in vaine delight: 3. 8.10.8 | Him long she so with shadowes entertained, 3. 8.10.9 | As her Creatresse had in charge to her ordained. 3. 8.11.1 | Till on a day, as he disposed was 3. 8.11.2 | To walke the woods with that his Idole faire, 3. 8.11.3 | Her to disport, and idle time to pas, 3. 8.11.4 | In th'=open freshnesse of the gentle aire, 3. 8.11.5 | A knight that way there chaunced to repaire; 3. 8.11.6 | Yet knight he was not, but a boastfull swaine, 3. 8.11.7 | That deedes of armes had euer in despaire, 3. 8.11.8 | Proud \Braggadocchio\, that in vaunting vaine 3. 8.11.9 | His glory did repose, and credit did maintaine. 3. 8.12.1 | He seeing with that Chorle so faire a wight, 3. 8.12.2 | Decked with many a costly ornament, 3. 8.12.3 | Much merueiled thereat, as well he might, 3. 8.12.4 | And thought that match a fowle disparagement: 3. 8.12.5 | His bloudie speare eftsoones he boldly bent 3. 8.12.6 | Against the silly clowne, who dead through feare, 3. 8.12.7 | Fell streight to ground in great astonishment; 3. 8.12.8 | Villein (said he) this Ladie is my deare, 3. 8.12.9 | Dy, if thou it gainesay: I will away her beare. 3. 8.13.1 | The fearefull Chorle durst not gainesay, nor dooe, 3. 8.13.2 | But trembling stood, and yielded him the pray; 3. 8.13.3 | Who finding litle leasure her to wooe, 3. 8.13.4 | On \Tromparts\ steed her mounted without stay, 3. 8.13.5 | And without reskew led her quite away. 3. 8.13.6 | Proud man himselfe then \Braggadocchio\ deemed, 3. 8.13.7 | And next to none, after that happie day, 3. 8.13.8 | Being possessed of that spoyle, which seemed 3. 8.13.9 | The fairest wight on ground, and most of men esteemed. 3. 8.14.1 | But when he saw himselfe free from poursute, 3. 8.14.2 | He gan make gentle purpose to his Dame, 3. 8.14.3 | With termes of loue and lewdnesse dissolute; 3. 8.14.4 | For he could well his glozing speaches frame 3. 8.14.5 | To such vaine vses, that him best became: 3. 8.14.6 | But she thereto would lend but light regard, 3. 8.14.7 | As seeming sory, that she euer came 3. 8.14.8 | Into his powre, that vsed her so hard, 3. 8.14.9 | To reaue her honor, which she more then life prefard. 3. 8.15.1 | Thus as they two of kindnesse treated long, 3. 8.15.2 | There them by chaunce encountred on the way 3. 8.15.3 | An armed knight, vpon a courser strong, 3. 8.15.4 | Whose trampling feet vpon the hollow lay 3. 8.15.5 | Seemed to thunder, and did nigh affray 3. 8.15.6 | That Capons courage: yet he looked grim, 3. 8.15.7 | And fain'd to cheare his Ladie in dismay; 3. 8.15.8 | Who seem'd for feare to quake in euery lim, 3. 8.15.9 | And her to saue from outrage, meekely prayed him. 3. 8.16.1 | Fiercely that stranger forward came, and nigh 3. 8.16.2 | Approching, with bold words and bitter threat, 3. 8.16.3 | Bad that same boaster, as he mote, on high 3. 8.16.4 | To leaue to him that Lady for excheat, 3. 8.16.5 | Or bide him battell without further treat. 3. 8.16.6 | That challenge did too peremptory seeme, 3. 8.16.7 | And fild his senses with abashment great; 3. 8.16.8 | Yet seeing nigh him ieopardy extreme, 3. 8.16.9 | He it dissembled well, and light seem'd to esteeme. 3. 8.17.1 | Saying, Thou foolish knight, that weenst with words 3. 8.17.2 | To steale away, that I with blowes haue wonne, 3. 8.17.3 | And brought throgh points of many perilous swords: 3. 8.17.4 | But if thee list to see thy Courser ronne, 3. 8.17.5 | Or proue thy selfe, this sad encounter shonne, 3. 8.17.6 | And seeke else without hazard of thy hed. 3. 8.17.7 | At those proud words that other knight begonne 3. 8.17.8 | To wexe exceeding wroth, and him ared 3. 8.17.9 | To turne his steede about, or sure he should be ded. 3. 8.18.1 | Sith then (said \Braggadocchio\) needes thou wilt 3. 8.18.2 | Thy dayes abridge, through proofe of puissance, 3. 8.18.3 | Turne we our steedes, that both in equall tilt 3. 8.18.4 | May meet againe, and each take happie chance. 3. 8.18.5 | This said, they both a furlongs mountenance 3. 8.18.6 | Retyrd their steeds, to ronne in euen race: 3. 8.18.7 | But \Braggadocchio\ with his bloudie lance 3. 8.18.8 | Once hauing turnd, no more returnd his face, 3. 8.18.9 | But left his loue to losse, and fled himselfe apace. 3. 8.19.1 | The knight him seeing fly, had no regard 3. 8.19.2 | Him to poursew, but to the Ladie rode, 3. 8.19.3 | And hauing her from \Trompart\ lightly reard, 3. 8.19.4 | Vpon his Courser set the louely lode, 3. 8.19.5 | And with her fled away without abode. 3. 8.19.6 | Well weened he, that fairest \Florimell\ 3. 8.19.7 | It was, with whom in company he yode, 3. 8.19.8 | And so her selfe did alwaies to him tell; 3. 8.19.9 | So made him thinke him selfe in heauen, that was in hell. 3. 8.20.1 | But \Florimell\ her selfe was farre away, 3. 8.20.2 | Driuen to great distresse by Fortune straunge, 3. 8.20.3 | And taught the carefull Mariner to play, 3. 8.20.4 | Sith late mischaunce had her compeld to chaunge 3. 8.20.5 | The land for sea, at randon there to raunge: 3. 8.20.6 | Yet there that cruell Queene auengeresse, 3. 8.20.7 | Not satisfide so farre her to estraunge 3. 8.20.8 | From courtly blisse and wonted happinesse, 3. 8.20.9 | Did heape on her new waues of weary wretchednesse. 3. 8.21.1 | For being fled into the fishers bote, 3. 8.21.2 | For refuge from the Monsters crueltie, 3. 8.21.3 | Long so she on the mightie maine did flote, 3. 8.21.4 | And with the tide droue forward careleslie; 3. 8.21.5 | For th'=aire was milde, and cleared was the skie, 3. 8.21.6 | And all his windes \Dan Aeolus\ did keepe, 3. 8.21.7 | From stirring vp their stormy enmitie, 3. 8.21.8 | As pittying to see her waile and weepe; 3. 8.21.9 | But all the while the fisher did securely sleepe. 3. 8.22.1 | At last when droncke with drowsinesse, he woke, 3. 8.22.2 | And saw his drouer driue along the streame, 3. 8.22.3 | He was dismayd, and thrise his breast he stroke, 3. 8.22.4 | For maruell of that accident extreame; 3. 8.22.5 | But when he saw that blazing beauties beame, 3. 8.22.6 | Which with rare light his bote did beautifie, 3. 8.22.7 | He marueild more, and thought he yet did dreame 3. 8.22.8 | Not well awakt, or that some extasie 3. 8.22.9 | Assotted had his sense, or dazed was his eie. 3. 8.23.1 | But when her well auizing, he perceiued 3. 8.23.2 | To be no vision, nor fantasticke sight, 3. 8.23.3 | Great comfort of her presence he conceiued, 3. 8.23.4 | And felt in his old courage new delight 3. 8.23.5 | To gin awake, and stirre his frozen spright: 3. 8.23.6 | Tho rudely askt her, how she thither came. 3. 8.23.7 | Ah (said she) father, I note read aright, 3. 8.23.8 | What hard misfortune brought me to the same; 3. 8.23.9 | Yet am I glad that here I now in safety am. 3. 8.24.1 | But thou good man, sith farre in sea we bee, 3. 8.24.2 | And the great waters gin apace to swell, 3. 8.24.3 | That now no more we can the maine-land see, 3. 8.24.4 | Haue care, I pray, to guide the cock-bote well, 3. 8.24.5 | Least worse on sea then vs on land befell. 3. 8.24.6 | Thereat th'=old man did nought but fondly grin, 3. 8.24.7 | And said, his boat the way could wisely tell: 3. 8.24.8 | But his deceiptfull eyes did neuer lin, 3. 8.24.9 | To looke on her faire face, and marke her snowy skin. 3. 8.25.1 | The sight whereof in his congealed flesh, 3. 8.25.2 | Infixt such secret sting of greedy lust, 3. 8.25.3 | That the drie withered stocke it gan refresh, 3. 8.25.4 | And kindled heat, that soone in flame forth brust: 3. 8.25.5 | The driest wood is soonest burnt to dust. 3. 8.25.6 | Rudely to her he lept, and his rough hand 3. 8.25.7 | Where ill became him, rashly would haue thrust, 3. 8.25.8 | But she with angry scorne him did withstond, 3. 8.25.9 | And shamefully reproued for his rudenesse fond. 3. 8.26.1 | But he, that neuer good nor maners knew, 3. 8.26.2 | Her sharpe rebuke full litle did esteeme; 3. 8.26.3 | Hard is to teach an old horse amble trew. 3. 8.26.4 | The inward smoke, that did before but steeme, 3. 8.26.5 | Broke into open fire and rage extreme, 3. 8.26.6 | And now he strength gan adde vnto his will, 3. 8.26.7 | Forcing to doe, that did him fowle misseeme: 3. 8.26.8 | Beastly he threw her downe, ne car'd to spill 3. 8.26.9 | Her garments gay with scales of fish, that all did fill. 3. 8.27.1 | The silly virgin stroue him to withstand, 3. 8.27.2 | All that she might, and him in vaine reuild: 3. 8.27.3 | She struggled strongly both with foot and hand, 3. 8.27.4 | To saue her honor from that villaine vild, 3. 8.27.5 | And cride to heauen, from humane helpe exild. 3. 8.27.6 | O ye braue knights, that boast this Ladies loue, 3. 8.27.7 | Where be ye now, when she is nigh defild 3. 8.27.8 | Of filthy wretch? well may shee you reproue 3. 8.27.9 | Of falshood or of slouth, when most it may behoue. 3. 8.28.1 | But if that thou, Sir \Satyran\, didst weete, 3. 8.28.2 | Or thou, Sir \Peridure\, her sorie state, 3. 8.28.3 | How soone would yee assemble many a fleete, 3. 8.28.4 | To fetch from sea, that ye at land lost late; 3. 8.28.5 | Towres, Cities, Kingdomes ye would ruinate, 3. 8.28.6 | In your auengement and dispiteous rage, 3. 8.28.7 | Ne ought your burning fury mote abate; 3. 8.28.8 | But if Sir \Calidore\ could it presage, 3. 8.28.9 | No liuing creature could his cruelty asswage. 3. 8.29.1 | But sith that none of all her knights is nye, 3. 8.29.2 | See how the heauens of voluntary grace, 3. 8.29.3 | And soueraine fauour towards chastity, 3. 8.29.4 | Doe succour send to her distressed cace: 3. 8.29.5 | So much high God doth innocence embrace. 3. 8.29.6 | It fortuned, whilest thus she stifly stroue, 3. 8.29.7 | And the wide sea importuned long space 3. 8.29.8 | With shrilling shriekes, \Proteus\ abroad did roue, 3. 8.29.9 | Along the fomy waues driuing his finny droue. 3. 8.30.1 | \Proteus\ is Shepheard of the seas of yore, 3. 8.30.2 | And hath the charge of \Neptunes\ mightie heard; 3. 8.30.3 | An aged sire with head all frory hore, 3. 8.30.4 | And sprinckled frost vpon his deawy beard: 3. 8.30.5 | Who when those pittifull outcries he heard, 3. 8.30.6 | Through all the seas so ruefully resound, 3. 8.30.7 | His charet swift in haste he thither steard, 3. 8.30.8 | Which with a teeme of scaly \Phocas\ bound 3. 8.30.9 | Was drawne vpon the waues, that fomed him around. 3. 8.31.1 | And comming to that Fishers wandring bote, 3. 8.31.2 | That went at will, withouten carde or sayle, 3. 8.31.3 | He therein saw that yrkesome sight, which smote 3. 8.31.4 | Deepe indignation and compassion frayle 3. 8.31.5 | Into his hart attonce: streight did he hayle 3. 8.31.6 | The greedy villein from his hoped pray, 3. 8.31.7 | Of which he now did very litle fayle, 3. 8.31.8 | And with his staffe, that driues his Heard astray, 3. 8.31.9 | Him bet so sore, that life and sense did much dismay. 3. 8.32.1 | The whiles the pitteous Ladie vp did ryse, 3. 8.32.2 | Ruffled and fowly raid with filthy soyle, 3. 8.32.3 | And blubbred face with teares of her faire eyes: 3. 8.32.4 | Her heart nigh broken was with weary toyle, 3. 8.32.5 | To saue her selfe from that outrageous spoyle, 3. 8.32.6 | But when she looked vp, to weet, what wight 3. 8.32.7 | Had her from so infamous fact assoyld, 3. 8.32.8 | For shame, but more for feare of his grim sight, 3. 8.32.9 | Downe in her lap she hid her face, and loudly shright. 3. 8.33.1 | Her selfe not saued yet from daunger dred 3. 8.33.2 | She thought, but chaung'd from one to other feare; 3. 8.33.3 | Like as a fearefull Partridge, that is fled 3. 8.33.4 | From the sharpe Hauke, which her attached neare, 3. 8.33.5 | And fals to ground, to seeke for succour theare, 3. 8.33.6 | Whereas the hungry Spaniels she does spy, 3. 8.33.7 | With greedy iawes her readie for to teare; 3. 8.33.8 | In such distresse and sad perplexity 3. 8.33.9 | Was \Florimell\, when \Proteus\ she did see thereby. 3. 8.34.1 | But he endeuoured with speeches milde 3. 8.34.2 | Her to recomfort, and accourage bold, 3. 8.34.3 | Bidding her feare no more her foeman vilde, 3. 8.34.4 | Nor doubt himselfe; and who he was, her told. 3. 8.34.5 | Yet all that could not from affright her hold, 3. 8.34.6 | Ne to recomfort her at all preuayld; 3. 8.34.7 | For her faint heart was with the frozen cold 3. 8.34.8 | Benumbd so inly, that her wits nigh fayld, 3. 8.34.9 | And all her senses with abashment quite were quayld. 3. 8.35.1 | Her vp betwixt his rugged hands he reard, 3. 8.35.2 | And with his frory lips full softly kist, 3. 8.35.3 | Whiles the cold ysickles from his rough beard, 3. 8.35.4 | Dropped adowne vpon her yuorie brest: 3. 8.35.5 | Yet he himselfe so busily addrest, 3. 8.35.6 | That her out of astonishment he wrought, 3. 8.35.7 | And out of that same fishers filthy nest 3. 8.35.8 | Remouing her, into his charet brought, 3. 8.35.9 | And there with many gentle termes her faire besought. 3. 8.36.1 | But that old leachour, which with bold assault 3. 8.36.2 | That beautie durst presume to violate, 3. 8.36.3 | He cast to punish for his hainous fault; 3. 8.36.4 | Then tooke he him yet trembling sith of late, 3. 8.36.5 | And tyde behind his charet, to aggrate 3. 8.36.6 | The virgin, whom he had abusde so sore: 3. 8.36.7 | So drag'd him through the waues in scornefull state, 3. 8.36.8 | And after cast him vp, vpon the shore; 3. 8.36.9 | But \Florimell\ with him vnto his bowre he bore. 3. 8.37.1 | His bowre is in the bottome of the maine, 3. 8.37.2 | Vnder a mightie rocke, gainst which do raue 3. 8.37.3 | The roaring billowes in their proud disdaine, 3. 8.37.4 | That with the angry working of the waue, 3. 8.37.5 | Therein is eaten out an hollow caue, 3. 8.37.6 | That seemes rough Masons hand with engines keene 3. 8.37.7 | Had long while laboured it to engraue: 3. 8.37.8 | There was his wonne, ne liuing wight was seene, 3. 8.37.9 | Saue one old \Nymph\, hight \Panope\ to keepe it cleane. 3. 8.38.1 | Thither he brought the sory \Florimell\, 3. 8.38.2 | And entertained her the best he might 3. 8.38.3 | And \Panope\ her entertaind eke well, 3. 8.38.4 | As an immortall mote a mortall wight, 3. 8.38.5 | To winne her liking vnto his delight: 3. 8.38.6 | With flattering words he sweetly wooed her, 3. 8.38.7 | And offered faire gifts t'=allure her sight, 3. 8.38.8 | But she both offers and the offerer 3. 8.38.9 | Despysde, and all the fawning of the flatterer. 3. 8.39.1 | Daily he tempted her with this or that, 3. 8.39.2 | And neuer suffred her to be at rest: 3. 8.39.3 | But euermore she him refused flat, 3. 8.39.4 | And all his fained kindnesse did detest, 3. 8.39.5 | So firmely she had sealed vp her brest. 3. 8.39.6 | Sometimes he boasted, that a God he hight: 3. 8.39.7 | But she a mortall creature loued best: 3. 8.39.8 | Then he would make himselfe a mortall wight; 3. 8.39.9 | But then she said she lou'd none, but a Faerie knight. 3. 8.40.1 | Then like a Faerie knight himselfe he drest; 3. 8.40.2 | For euery shape on him he could endew: 3. 8.40.3 | Then like a king he was to her exprest, 3. 8.40.4 | And offred kingdomes vnto her in vew, 3. 8.40.5 | To be his Leman and his Ladie trew: 3. 8.40.6 | But when all this he nothing saw preuaile, 3. 8.40.7 | With harder meanes he cast her to subdew, 3. 8.40.8 | And with sharpe threates her often did assaile, 3. 8.40.9 | So thinking for to make her stubborne courage quaile. 3. 8.41.1 | To dreadfull shapes he did himselfe transforme, 3. 8.41.2 | Now like a Gyant, now like to a feend, 3. 8.41.3 | Then like a Centaure, then like to a storme, 3. 8.41.4 | Raging within the waues: thereby he weend 3. 8.41.5 | Her will to win vnto his wished end. 3. 8.41.6 | But when with feare, nor fauour, nor with all 3. 8.41.7 | He else could doe, he saw himselfe esteemd, 3. 8.41.8 | Downe in a Dongeon deepe he let her fall, 3. 8.41.9 | And threatned there to make her his eternall thrall. 3. 8.42.1 | Eternall thraldome was to her more liefe, 3. 8.42.2 | Then losse of chastitie, or chaunge of loue: 3. 8.42.3 | Die had she rather in tormenting griefe, 3. 8.42.4 | Then any should of falsenesse her reproue, 3. 8.42.5 | Or loosenesse, that she lightly did remoue. 3. 8.42.6 | Most vertuous virgin, glory be thy meed, 3. 8.42.7 | And crowne of heauenly praise with Saints aboue, 3. 8.42.8 | Where most sweet hymmes of this thy famous deed 3. 8.42.9 | Are still emongst them song, that far my rymes exceed. 3. 8.43.1 | Fit song of Angels caroled to bee; 3. 8.43.2 | But yet what so my feeble Muse can frame, 3. 8.43.3 | Shall be t'=aduance thy goodly chastitee, 3. 8.43.4 | And to enroll thy memorable name, 3. 8.43.5 | In th'=heart of euery honourable Dame, 3. 8.43.6 | That they thy vertuous deedes may imitate, 3. 8.43.7 | And be partakers of thy endlesse fame. 3. 8.43.8 | It yrkes me, leaue thee in this wofull state, 3. 8.43.9 | To tell of \Satyrane\, where I him left of late. 3. 8.44.1 | Who hauing ended with that \Squire of Dames\ 3. 8.44.2 | A long discourse of his aduentures vaine, 3. 8.44.3 | The which himselfe, then Ladies more defames, 3. 8.44.4 | And finding not th'=\Hyena\ to be slaine, 3. 8.44.5 | With that same \Squire\, returned backe againe 3. 8.44.6 | To his first way. And as they forward went, 3. 8.44.7 | They spyde a knight faire pricking on the plaine, 3. 8.44.8 | As if he were on some aduenture bent, 3. 8.44.9 | And in his port appeared manly hardiment. 3. 8.45.1 | Sir \Satyrane\ him towards did addresse, 3. 8.45.2 | To weet, what wight he was, and what his quest: 3. 8.45.3 | And comming nigh, eftsoones he gan to gesse 3. 8.45.4 | Both by the burning hart, which on his brest 3. 8.45.5 | He bare, and by the colours in his crest, 3. 8.45.6 | That \Paridell\ it was. Tho to him yode, 3. 8.45.7 | And him saluting, as beseemed best, 3. 8.45.8 | Gan first inquire of tydings farre abrode; 3. 8.45.9 | And afterwardes, on what aduenture now he rode. 3. 8.46.1 | Who thereto answering, said; The tydings bad, 3. 8.46.2 | Which now in Faerie court all men do tell, 3. 8.46.3 | Which turned hath great mirth, to mourning sad, 3. 8.46.4 | Is the late ruine of proud \Marinell\, 3. 8.46.5 | And suddein parture of faire \Florimell\, 3. 8.46.6 | To find him forth: and after her are gone 3. 8.46.7 | All the braue knights, that doen in armes excell, 3. 8.46.8 | To saueguard her, ywandred all alone; 3. 8.46.9 | Emongst the rest my lot (vnworthy) is to be one. 3. 8.47.1 | Ah gentle knight (said then Sir \Satyrane\) 3. 8.47.2 | Thy labour all is lost, I greatly dread, 3. 8.47.3 | That hast a thanklesse seruice on thee ta'ne, 3. 8.47.4 | And offrest sacrifice vnto the dead: 3. 8.47.5 | For dead, I surely doubt, thou maist aread 3. 8.47.6 | Henceforth for euer \Florimell\ to be, 3. 8.47.7 | That all the noble knights of \Maydenhead\, 3. 8.47.8 | Which her ador'd, may sore repent with me, 3. 8.47.9 | And all faire Ladies may for euer sory be. 3. 8.48.1 | Which words when \Paridell\ had heard, his hew 3. 8.48.2 | Gan greatly chaunge, and seem'd dismayd to bee; 3. 8.48.3 | Then said, Faire Sir, how may I weene it trew, 3. 8.48.4 | That ye doe tell in such vncertaintee? 3. 8.48.5 | Or speake ye of report, or did ye see 3. 8.48.6 | Iust cause of dread, that makes ye doubt so sore? 3. 8.48.7 | For perdie else how mote it euer bee, 3. 8.48.8 | That euer hand should dare for to engore 3. 8.48.9 | Her noble bloud? the heauens such crueltie abhore. 3. 8.49.1 | These eyes did see, that they will euer rew 3. 8.49.2 | T'=haue seene, (quoth he) when as a monstrous beast 3. 8.49.3 | The Palfrey, whereon she did trauell, slew, 3. 8.49.4 | And of his bowels made his bloudie feast: 3. 8.49.5 | Which speaking token sheweth at the least 3. 8.49.6 | Her certaine losse, if not her sure decay: 3. 8.49.7 | Besides, that more suspition encreast, 3. 8.49.8 | I found her golden girdle cast astray, 3. 8.49.9 | Distaynd with durt and bloud, as relique of the pray. 3. 8.50.1 | Aye me, (said \Paridell\) the signes be sad, 3. 8.50.2 | And but God turne the same to good soothsay, 3. 8.50.3 | That Ladies safetie is sore to be drad: 3. 8.50.4 | Yet will I not forsake my forward way, 3. 8.50.5 | Till triall doe more certaine truth bewray. 3. 8.50.6 | Faire Sir (quoth he) well may it you succeed, 3. 8.50.7 | Ne long shall \Satyrane\ behind you stay, 3. 8.50.8 | But to the rest, which in this Quest proceed 3. 8.50.9 | My labour adde, and be partaker of their speed. 3. 8.51.1 | Ye noble knights (said then the \Squire of Dames\) 3. 8.51.2 | Well may ye speed in so praiseworthy paine: 3. 8.51.3 | But sith the Sunne now ginnes to slake his beames, 3. 8.51.4 | In deawy vapours of the westerne maine, 3. 8.51.5 | And lose the teme out of his weary waine, 3. 8.51.6 | Mote not mislike you also to abate 3. 8.51.7 | Your zealous hast, till morrow next againe 3. 8.51.8 | Both light of heauen, and strength of men relate: 3. 8.51.9 | Which if ye please, to yonder castle turne your gate. 3. 8.52.1 | That counsell pleased well; so all yfere 3. 8.52.2 | Forth marched to a Castle them before, 3. 8.52.3 | Where soone arriuing, they restrained were 3. 8.52.4 | Of readie entrance, which ought euermore 3. 8.52.5 | To errant knights be commun: wondrous sore 3. 8.52.6 | Thereat displeasd they were, till that young Squire 3. 8.52.7 | Gan them informe the cause, why that same dore 3. 8.52.8 | Was shut to all, which lodging did desire: 3. 8.52.9 | The which to let you weet, will further time require. 3. 9. A.1 | \Malbecco will no straunge knights host,\ 3. 9. A.2 | \For peeuish gealosie:\ 3. 9. A.3 | \Paridell giusts with Britomart:\ 3. 9. A.4 | \Both shew their auncestrie.\ 3. 9. 1.1 | Redoubted knights, and honorable Dames, 3. 9. 1.2 | To whom I leuell all my labours end, 3. 9. 1.3 | Right sore I feare, least with vnworthy blames 3. 9. 1.4 | This odious argument my rimes should shend, 3. 9. 1.5 | Or ought your goodly patience offend, 3. 9. 1.6 | Whiles of a wanton Lady I do write, 3. 9. 1.7 | Which with her loose incontinence doth blend 3. 9. 1.8 | The shyning glory of your soueraigne light, 3. 9. 1.9 | And knighthood fowle defaced by a faithlesse knight. 3. 9. 2.1 | But neuer let th'=ensample of the bad 3. 9. 2.2 | Offend the good: for good by paragone 3. 9. 2.3 | Of euill, may more notably be rad, 3. 9. 2.4 | As white seemes fairer, macht with blacke attone; 3. 9. 2.5 | Ne all are shamed by the fault of one: 3. 9. 2.6 | For lo in heauen, whereas all goodnesse is, 3. 9. 2.7 | Emongst the Angels, a whole legione 3. 9. 2.8 | Of wicked Sprights did fall from happy blis; 3. 9. 2.9 | What wonder then, if one of women all did mis? 3. 9. 3.1 | Then listen Lordings, if ye list to weet 3. 9. 3.2 | The cause, why \Satyrane\ and \Paridell\ 3. 9. 3.3 | Mote not be entertaynd, as seemed meet, 3. 9. 3.4 | Into that Castle (as that Squire does tell.) 3. 9. 3.5 | Therein a cancred crabbed Carle does dwell, 3. 9. 3.6 | That has no skill of Court nor courtesie, 3. 9. 3.7 | Ne cares, what men say of him ill or well; 3. 9. 3.8 | For all his dayes he drownes in priuitie, 3. 9. 3.9 | Yet has full large to liue, and spend at libertie. 3. 9. 4.1 | But all his mind is set on mucky pelfe, 3. 9. 4.2 | To hoord vp heapes of euill gotten masse, 3. 9. 4.3 | For which he others wrongs, and wreckes himselfe; 3. 9. 4.4 | Yet is he lincked to a louely lasse, 3. 9. 4.5 | Whose beauty doth her bounty far surpasse, 3. 9. 4.6 | The which to him both far vnequall yeares, 3. 9. 4.7 | And also far vnlike conditions has; 3. 9. 4.8 | For she does ioy to play emongst her peares, 3. 9. 4.9 | And to be free from hard restraint and gealous feares. 3. 9. 5.1 | But he is old, and withered like hay, 3. 9. 5.2 | Vnfit faire Ladies seruice to supply; 3. 9. 5.3 | The priuie guilt whereof makes him alway 3. 9. 5.4 | Suspect her truth, and keepe continuall spy 3. 9. 5.5 | Vpon her with his other blincked eye; 3. 9. 5.6 | Ne suffreth he resort of liuing wight 3. 9. 5.7 | Approch to her, ne keepe her company, 3. 9. 5.8 | But in close bowre her mewes from all mens sight, 3. 9. 5.9 | Depriu'd of kindly ioy and naturall delight. 3. 9. 6.1 | \Malbecco\ he, and \Hellenore\ she hight, 3. 9. 6.2 | Vnfitly yokt together in one teeme, 3. 9. 6.3 | That is the cause, why neuer any knight 3. 9. 6.4 | Is suffred here to enter, but he seeme 3. 9. 6.5 | Such, as no doubt of him he neede misdeeme. 3. 9. 6.6 | Thereat Sir \Satyrane\ gan smile, and say; 3. 9. 6.7 | Extremely mad the man I surely deeme, 3. 9. 6.8 | That weenes with watch and hard restraint to stay 3. 9. 6.9 | A womans will, which is disposd to go astray. 3. 9. 7.1 | In vaine he feares that, which he cannot shonne: 3. 9. 7.2 | For who wotes not, that womans subtiltyes 3. 9. 7.3 | Can guilen \Argus\, when she list misdonne? 3. 9. 7.4 | It is not yron bandes, nor hundred eyes, 3. 9. 7.5 | Nor brasen walls, nor many wakefull spyes, 3. 9. 7.6 | That can withhold her wilfull wandring feet; 3. 9. 7.7 | But fast good will with gentle curtesyes, 3. 9. 7.8 | And timely seruice to her pleasures meet 3. 9. 7.9 | May her perhaps containe, that else would algates fleet. 3. 9. 8.1 | Then is he not more mad (said \Paridell\) 3. 9. 8.2 | That hath himselfe vnto such seruice sold, 3. 9. 8.3 | In dolefull thraldome all his dayes to dwell? 3. 9. 8.4 | For sure a foole I do him firmely hold, 3. 9. 8.5 | That loues his fetters, though they were of gold. 3. 9. 8.6 | But why do we deuise of others ill, 3. 9. 8.7 | Whiles thus we suffer this same dotard old, 3. 9. 8.8 | To keepe vs out, in scorne of his owne will, 3. 9. 8.9 | And rather do not ransack all, and him selfe kill? 3. 9. 9.1 | Nay let vs first (said \Satyrane\) entreat 3. 9. 9.2 | The man by gentle meanes, to let vs in, 3. 9. 9.3 | And afterwardes affray with cruell threat, 3. 9. 9.4 | Ere that we to efforce it do begin: 3. 9. 9.5 | Then if all fayle, we will by force it win, 3. 9. 9.6 | And eke reward the wretch for his mesprise, 3. 9. 9.7 | As may be worthy of his haynous sin. 3. 9. 9.8 | That counsell pleasd: then \Paridell\ did rise, 3. 9. 9.9 | And to the Castle gate approcht in quiet wise. 3. 9.10.1 | Whereat soft knocking, entrance he desyrd. 3. 9.10.2 | The good man selfe, which then the Porter playd, 3. 9.10.3 | Him answered, that all were now retyrd 3. 9.10.4 | Vnto their rest, and all the keyes conuayd 3. 9.10.5 | Vnto their maister, who in bed was layd, 3. 9.10.6 | That none him durst awake out of his dreme; 3. 9.10.7 | And therefore them of patience gently prayd. 3. 9.10.8 | Then \Paridell\ began to chaunge his theme, 3. 9.10.9 | And threatned him with force and punishment extreme. 3. 9.11.1 | But all in vaine; for nought mote him relent, 3. 9.11.2 | And now so long before the wicket fast 3. 9.11.3 | They wayted, that the night was forward spent, 3. 9.11.4 | And the faire welkin fowly ouercast, 3. 9.11.5 | Gan blowen vp a bitter stormy blast, 3. 9.11.6 | With shoure and hayle so horrible and dred, 3. 9.11.7 | That this faire many were compeld at last, 3. 9.11.8 | To fly for succour to a little shed, 3. 9.11.9 | The which beside the gate for swine was ordered. 3. 9.12.1 | It fortuned, soone after they were gone, 3. 9.12.2 | Another knight, whom tempest thither brought, 3. 9.12.3 | Came to that Castle, and with earnest mone, 3. 9.12.4 | Like as the rest, late entrance deare besought; 3. 9.12.5 | But like so as the rest he prayd for nought, 3. 9.12.6 | For flatly he of entrance was refusd, 3. 9.12.7 | Sorely thereat he was displeasd, and thought 3. 9.12.8 | How to auenge himselfe so sore abusd, 3. 9.12.9 | And euermore the Carle of curtesie accusd. 3. 9.13.1 | But to auoyde th'=intollerable stowre, 3. 9.13.2 | He was compeld to seeke some refuge neare, 3. 9.13.3 | And to that shed, to shrowd him from the showre, 3. 9.13.4 | He came, which full of guests he found whyleare, 3. 9.13.5 | So as he was not let to enter there: 3. 9.13.6 | Whereat he gan to wex exceeding wroth, 3. 9.13.7 | And swore, that he would lodge with them yfere, 3. 9.13.8 | Or them dislodge, all were they liefe or loth; 3. 9.13.9 | And so defide them each, and so defide them both. 3. 9.14.1 | Both were full loth to leaue that needfull tent, 3. 9.14.2 | And both full loth in darkenesse to debate; 3. 9.14.3 | Yet both full liefe him lodging to haue lent, 3. 9.14.4 | And both full liefe his boasting to abate; 3. 9.14.5 | But chiefly \Paridell\ his hart did grate, 3. 9.14.6 | To heare him threaten so despightfully, 3. 9.14.7 | As if he did a dogge to kenell rate, 3. 9.14.8 | That durst not barke; and rather had he dy, 3. 9.14.9 | Then when he was defide, in coward corner ly. 3. 9.15.1 | Tho hastily remounting to his steed, 3. 9.15.2 | He forth issew'd; like as a boistrous wind, 3. 9.15.3 | Which in th'=earthes hollow caues hath long bin hid, 3. 9.15.4 | And shut vp fast within her prisons blind, 3. 9.15.5 | Makes the huge element against her kind 3. 9.15.6 | To moue, and tremble as it were agast, 3. 9.15.7 | Vntill that it an issew forth may find; 3. 9.15.8 | Then forth it breakes, and with his furious blast 3. 9.15.9 | Confounds both land and seas, and skyes doth ouercast. 3. 9.16.1 | Their steel-hed speares they strongly coucht, and met 3. 9.16.2 | Together with impetuous rage and forse, 3. 9.16.3 | That with the terrour of their fierce affret, 3. 9.16.4 | They rudely droue to ground both man and horse, 3. 9.16.5 | That each awhile lay like a sencelesse corse. 3. 9.16.6 | But \Paridell\ sore brused with the blow, 3. 9.16.7 | Could not arise, the counterchaunge to scorse, 3. 9.16.8 | Till that young Squire him reared from below; 3. 9.16.9 | Then drew he his bright sword, and gan about him throw. 3. 9.17.1 | But \Satyrane\ forth stepping, did them stay 3. 9.17.2 | And with faire treatie pacifide their ire, 3. 9.17.3 | Then when they were accorded from the fray, 3. 9.17.4 | Against that Castles Lord they gan conspire, 3. 9.17.5 | To heape on him dew vengeaunce for his hire. 3. 9.17.6 | They bene agreed, and to the gates they goe 3. 9.17.7 | To burne the same with vnquenchable fire, 3. 9.17.8 | And that vncurteous Carle their commune foe 3. 9.17.9 | To do fowle death to dye, or wrap in grieuous woe. 3. 9.18.1 | \Malbecco\ seeing them resolu'd in deed 3. 9.18.2 | To flame the gates, and hearing them to call 3. 9.18.3 | For fire in earnest, ran with fearefull speed, 3. 9.18.4 | And to them calling from the castle wall, 3. 9.18.5 | Besought them humbly, him to beare with all, 3. 9.18.6 | As ignoraunt of seruants bad abuse, 3. 9.18.7 | And slacke attendaunce vnto straungers call. 3. 9.18.8 | The knights were willing all things to excuse, 3. 9.18.9 | Though nought beleu'd, and entraunce late did not refuse. 3. 9.19.1 | They bene ybrought into a comely bowre, 3. 9.19.2 | And seru'd of all things that mote needfull bee; 3. 9.19.3 | Yet secretly their hoste did on them lowre, 3. 9.19.4 | And welcomde more for feare, then charitee; 3. 9.19.5 | But they dissembled, what they did not see, 3. 9.19.6 | And welcomed themselues. Each gan vndight 3. 9.19.7 | Their garments wet, and weary armour free, 3. 9.19.8 | To dry them selues by \Vulcanes\ flaming light, 3. 9.19.9 | And eke their lately bruzed parts to bring in plight. 3. 9.20.1 | And eke that straunger knight emongst the rest 3. 9.20.2 | Was for like need enforst to disaray: 3. 9.20.3 | Tho whenas vailed was her loftie crest, 3. 9.20.4 | Her golden locks, that were in tramels gay 3. 9.20.5 | Vpbounden, did them selues adowne display, 3. 9.20.6 | And raught vnto her heeles; like sunny beames, 3. 9.20.7 | That in a cloud their light did long time stay, 3. 9.20.8 | Their vapour vaded, shew their golden gleames, 3. 9.20.9 | And through the persant aire shoote forth their azure streames. 3. 9.21.1 | She also dofte her heauy haberieon, 3. 9.21.2 | Which the faire feature of her limbs did hyde, 3. 9.21.3 | And her well plighted frock, which she did won 3. 9.21.4 | To tucke about her short, when she did ryde, 3. 9.21.5 | She low let fall, that flowd from her lanck syde 3. 9.21.6 | Downe to her foot, with carelesse modestee. 3. 9.21.7 | Then of them all she plainly was espyde, 3. 9.21.8 | To be a woman wight, vnwist to bee, 3. 9.21.9 | The fairest woman wight, that euer eye did see. 3. 9.22.1 | Like as \Minerua\, being late returnd 3. 9.22.2 | From slaughter of the Giaunts conquered; 3. 9.22.3 | Where proud \Encelade\, whose wide nosethrils burnd 3. 9.22.4 | With breathed flames, like to a furnace red, 3. 9.22.5 | Transfixed with the speare, downe tombled ded 3. 9.22.6 | From top of \Hemus\, by him heaped hye; 3. 9.22.7 | Hath loosd her helmet from her lofty hed, 3. 9.22.8 | And her \Gorgonian\ shield gins to vntye 3. 9.22.9 | From her left arme, to rest in glorious victorye. 3. 9.23.1 | Which whenas they beheld, they smitten were 3. 9.23.2 | With great amazement of so wondrous sight, 3. 9.23.3 | And each on other, and they all on her 3. 9.23.4 | Stood gazing, as if suddein great affright 3. 9.23.5 | Had them surprised. At last auizing right, 3. 9.23.6 | Her goodly personage and glorious hew, 3. 9.23.7 | Which they so much mistooke, they tooke delight 3. 9.23.8 | In their first errour, and yet still anew 3. 9.23.9 | With wonder of her beauty fed their hungry vew. 3. 9.24.1 | Yet note their hungry vew be satisfide, 3. 9.24.2 | But seeing still the more desir'd to see, 3. 9.24.3 | And euer firmely fixed did abide 3. 9.24.4 | In contemplation of diuinitie: 3. 9.24.5 | But most they meruaild at her cheualree, 3. 9.24.6 | And noble prowesse, which they had approued, 3. 9.24.7 | That much they faynd to know, who she mote bee; 3. 9.24.8 | Yet none of all them her thereof amoued, 3. 9.24.9 | Yet euery one her likte, and euery one her loued. 3. 9.25.1 | And \Paridell\ though partly discontent 3. 9.25.2 | With his late fall, and fowle indignity, 3. 9.25.3 | Yet was soone wonne his malice to relent, 3. 9.25.4 | Through gracious regard of her faire eye, 3. 9.25.5 | And knightly worth, which he too late did try, 3. 9.25.6 | Yet tried did adore. Supper was dight; 3. 9.25.7 | Then they \Malbecco\ prayd of curtesy, 3. 9.25.8 | That of his Lady they might haue the sight, 3. 9.25.9 | And company at meat, to do them more delight. 3. 9.26.1 | But he to shift their curious request, 3. 9.26.2 | Gan causen, why she could not come in place; 3. 9.26.3 | Her crased health, her late recourse to rest, 3. 9.26.4 | And humid euening ill for sicke folkes cace: 3. 9.26.5 | But none of those excuses could take place; 3. 9.26.6 | Ne would they eate, till she in presence came. 3. 9.26.7 | She came in presence with right comely grace, 3. 9.26.8 | And fairely them saluted, as became, 3. 9.26.9 | And shewd her selfe in all a gentle curteous Dame. 3. 9.27.1 | They sate to meat, and \Satyrane\ his chaunce 3. 9.27.2 | Was her before, and \Paridell\ besyde; 3. 9.27.3 | But he him selfe sate looking still askaunce, 3. 9.27.4 | Gainst \Britomart\, and euer closely eyde 3. 9.27.5 | Sir \Satyrane\, that glaunces might not glyde: 3. 9.27.6 | But his blind eye, that syded \Paridell\, 3. 9.27.7 | All his demeasnure from his sight did hyde: 3. 9.27.8 | On her faire face so did he feede his fill, 3. 9.27.9 | And sent close messages of loue to her at will. 3. 9.28.1 | And euer and anone, when none was ware, 3. 9.28.2 | With speaking lookes, that close embassage bore, 3. 9.28.3 | He rou'd at her, and told his secret care: 3. 9.28.4 | For all that art he learned had of yore. 3. 9.28.5 | Ne was she ignoraunt of that lewd lore, 3. 9.28.6 | But in his eye his meaning wisely red, 3. 9.28.7 | And with the like him answerd euermore: 3. 9.28.8 | She sent at him one firie dart, whose hed 3. 9.28.9 | Empoisned was with priuy lust, and gealous dred. 3. 9.29.1 | He from that deadly throw made no defence, 3. 9.29.2 | But to the wound his weake hart opened wyde; 3. 9.29.3 | The wicked engine through false influence, 3. 9.29.4 | Past through his eyes, and secretly did glyde 3. 9.29.5 | Into his hart, which it did sorely gryde. 3. 9.29.6 | But nothing new to him was that same paine, 3. 9.29.7 | Ne paine at all; for he so oft had tryde 3. 9.29.8 | The powre thereof, and lou'd so oft in vaine, 3. 9.29.9 | That thing of course he counted, loue to entertaine. 3. 9.30.1 | Thenceforth to her he sought to intimate 3. 9.30.2 | His inward griefe, by meanes to him well knowne, 3. 9.30.3 | Now \Bacchus\ fruit out of the siluer plate 3. 9.30.4 | He on the table dasht, as ouerthrowne, 3. 9.30.5 | Or of the fruitfull liquor ouerflowne, 3. 9.30.6 | And by the dauncing bubbles did diuine, 3. 9.30.7 | Or therein write to let his loue be showne; 3. 9.30.8 | Which well she red out of the learned line, 3. 9.30.9 | A sacrament prophane in mistery of wine. 3. 9.31.1 | And when so of his hand the pledge she raught, 3. 9.31.2 | The guilty cup she fained to mistake, 3. 9.31.3 | And in her lap did shed her idle draught, 3. 9.31.4 | Shewing desire her inward flame to slake: 3. 9.31.5 | By such close signes they secret way did make 3. 9.31.6 | Vnto their wils, and one eyes watch escape; 3. 9.31.7 | Two eyes him needeth, for to watch and wake, 3. 9.31.8 | Who louers will deceiue. Thus was the ape, 3. 9.31.9 | By their faire handling, put into \Malbeccoes\ cape. 3. 9.32.1 | Now when of meats and drinks they had their fill, 3. 9.32.2 | Purpose was moued by that gentle Dame, 3. 9.32.3 | Vnto those knights aduenturous, to tell 3. 9.32.4 | Of deeds of armes, which vnto them became, 3. 9.32.5 | And euery one his kindred, and his name. 3. 9.32.6 | Then \Paridell\, in whom a kindly pryde 3. 9.32.7 | Of gracious speach, and skill his words to frame 3. 9.32.8 | Abounded, being glad of so fit tyde 3. 9.32.9 | Him to commend to her, thus spake, of all well eyde. 3. 9.33.1 | \Troy\, that art now nought, but an idle name, 3. 9.33.2 | And in thine ashes buried low dost lie, 3. 9.33.3 | Though whilome far much greater then thy fame, 3. 9.33.4 | Before that angry Gods, and cruell skye 3. 9.33.5 | Vpon thee heapt a direfull destinie, 3. 9.33.6 | What boots it boast thy glorious descent, 3. 9.33.7 | And fetch from heauen thy great Genealogie, 3. 9.33.8 | Sith all thy worthy prayses being blent, 3. 9.33.9 | Their of-spring hath embaste, and later glory shent. 3. 9.34.1 | Most famous Worthy of the world, by whome 3. 9.34.2 | That warre was kindled, which did \Troy\ inflame, 3. 9.34.3 | And stately towres of \Ilion\ whilome 3. 9.34.4 | Brought vnto balefull ruine, was by name 3. 9.34.5 | Sir \Paris\ far renowmd through noble fame, 3. 9.34.6 | Who through great prowesse and bold hardinesse, 3. 9.34.7 | From \Laceda+emon\ fetcht the fairest Dame, 3. 9.34.8 | That euer \Greece\ did boast, or knight possesse, 3. 9.34.9 | Whom \Venus\ to him gaue for meed of worthinesse. 3. 9.35.1 | Faire \Helene\, flowre of beautie excellent, 3. 9.35.2 | And girlond of the mighty Conquerours, 3. 9.35.3 | That madest many Ladies deare lament 3. 9.35.4 | The heauie losse of their braue Paramours, 3. 9.35.5 | Which they far off beheld from \Troian\ toures, 3. 9.35.6 | And saw the fieldes of faire \Scamander\ strowne 3. 9.35.7 | With carcases of noble warrioures, 3. 9.35.8 | Whose fruitlesse liues were vnder furrow sowne, 3. 9.35.9 | And \Xanthus\ sandy bankes with bloud all ouerflowne. 3. 9.36.1 | From him my linage I deriue aright, 3. 9.36.2 | Who long before the ten yeares siege of \Troy\, 3. 9.36.3 | Whiles yet on \Ida\ he a shepheard hight, 3. 9.36.4 | On faire \Oenone\ got a louely boy, 3. 9.36.5 | Whom for remembraunce of her passed ioy, 3. 9.36.6 | She of his Father \Parius\ did name; 3. 9.36.7 | Who, after \Greekes\ did \Priams\ realme destroy, 3. 9.36.8 | Gathred the \Troian\ reliques sau'd from flame, 3. 9.36.9 | And with them sayling thence, to th'=Isle of \Paros\ came. 3. 9.37.1 | That was by him cald \Paros\, which before 3. 9.37.2 | Hight \Nausa\, there he many yeares did raine, 3. 9.37.3 | And built \Nausicle\ by the \Pontick\ shore, 3. 9.37.4 | The which he dying left next in remaine 3. 9.37.5 | To \Paridas\ his sonne. 3. 9.37.6 | From whom I \Paridell\ by kin descend; 3. 9.37.7 | But for faire Ladies loue, and glories gaine, 3. 9.37.8 | My natiue soile haue left, my dayes to spend 3. 9.37.9 | In sewing deeds of armes, my liues and labours end. 3. 9.38.1 | Whenas the noble \Britomart\ heard tell 3. 9.38.2 | Of \Troian\ warres, and \Priams\ Citie sackt, 3. 9.38.3 | The ruefull story of Sir \Paridell\, 3. 9.38.4 | She was empassiond at that piteous act, 3. 9.38.5 | With zelous enuy of Greekes cruell fact, 3. 9.38.6 | Against that nation, from whose race of old 3. 9.38.7 | She heard, that she was lineally extract: 3. 9.38.8 | For noble \Britons\ sprong from \Troians\ bold, 3. 9.38.9 | And \Troynouant\ was built of old \Troyes\ ashes cold. 3. 9.39.1 | Then sighing soft awhile, at last she thus: 3. 9.39.2 | O lamentable fall of famous towne, 3. 9.39.3 | Which raignd so many yeares victorious, 3. 9.39.4 | And of all \Asie\ bore the soueraigne crowne, 3. 9.39.5 | In one sad night consumd, and throwen downe: 3. 9.39.6 | What stony hart, that heares thy haplesse fate, 3. 9.39.7 | Is not empierst with deepe compassiowne, 3. 9.39.8 | And makes ensample of mans wretched state, 3. 9.39.9 | That floures so fresh at morne, and fades at euening late? 3. 9.40.1 | Behold, Sir, how your pitifull complaint 3. 9.40.2 | Hath found another partner of your payne: 3. 9.40.3 | For nothing may impresse so deare constraint, 3. 9.40.4 | As countries cause, and commune foes disdayne. 3. 9.40.5 | But if it should not grieue you, backe agayne 3. 9.40.6 | To turne your course, I would to heare desyre, 3. 9.40.7 | What to \Aeneas\ fell; sith that men sayne 3. 9.40.8 | He was not in the Cities wofull fyre 3. 9.40.9 | Consum'd, but did him selfe to safetie retyre. 3. 9.41.1 | \Anchyses\ sonne begot of \Venus\ faire, 3. 9.41.2 | (Said he,) out of the flames for safegard fled, 3. 9.41.3 | And with a remnant did to sea repaire, 3. 9.41.4 | Where he through fatall errour long was led 3. 9.41.5 | Full many yeares, and weetlesse wandered 3. 9.41.6 | From shore to shore, emongst the Lybicke sands, 3. 9.41.7 | Ere rest he found. Much there he suffered, 3. 9.41.8 | And many perils past in forreine lands, 3. 9.41.9 | To saue his people sad from victours vengefull hands. 3. 9.42.1 | At last in \Latium\ he did arriue, 3. 9.42.2 | Where he with cruell warre was entertaind 3. 9.42.3 | Of th'=inland folke, which sought him backe to driue, 3. 9.42.4 | Till he with old \Latinus\ was constraind, 3. 9.42.5 | To contract wedlock: (so the fates ordaind.) 3. 9.42.6 | Wedlock contract in bloud, and eke in blood 3. 9.42.7 | Accomplished, that many deare complaind: 3. 9.42.8 | The riuall slaine, the victour through the flood 3. 9.42.9 | Escaped hardly, hardly praisd his wedlock good. 3. 9.43.1 | Yet after all, he victour did suruiue, 3. 9.43.2 | And with \Latinus\ did the kingdome part. 3. 9.43.3 | But after, when both nations gan to striue, 3. 9.43.4 | Into their names the title to conuart, 3. 9.43.5 | His sonne \Iu|lus\ did from thence depart, 3. 9.43.6 | With all the warlike youth of \Troians\ bloud, 3. 9.43.7 | And in long \Alba\ plast his throne apart, 3. 9.43.8 | Where faire it florished, and long time stoud, 3. 9.43.9 | Till \Romulus\ renewing it, to \Rome\ remoud. 3. 9.44.1 | There there (said \Britomart\) a fresh appeard 3. 9.44.2 | The glory of the later world to spring, 3. 9.44.3 | And \Troy\ againe out of her dust was reard, 3. 9.44.4 | To sit in second seat of soueraigne king, 3. 9.44.5 | Of all the world vnder her gouerning. 3. 9.44.6 | But a third kingdome yet is to arise, 3. 9.44.7 | Out of the \Troians\ scattered of-spring, 3. 9.44.8 | That in all glory and great enterprise, 3. 9.44.9 | Both first and second \Troy\ shall dare to equalise. 3. 9.45.1 | It \Troynouant\ is hight, that with the waues 3. 9.45.2 | Of wealthy \Thamis\ washed is along, 3. 9.45.3 | Vpon whose stubborne neck, whereat he raues 3. 9.45.4 | With roring rage, and sore him selfe does throng, 3. 9.45.5 | That all men feare to tempt his billowes strong, 3. 9.45.6 | She fastned hath her foot, which standes so hy, 3. 9.45.7 | That it a wonder of the world is song 3. 9.45.8 | In forreine landes, and all which passen by, 3. 9.45.9 | Beholding it from far, do thinke it threates the skye. 3. 9.46.1 | The \Troian Brute\ did first that Citie found, 3. 9.46.2 | And Hygate made the meare thereof by West, 3. 9.46.3 | And \Ouert\ gate by North: that is the bound 3. 9.46.4 | Toward the land; two riuers bound the rest. 3. 9.46.5 | So huge a scope at first him seemed best, 3. 9.46.6 | To be the compasse of his kingdomes seat: 3. 9.46.7 | So huge a mind could not in lesser rest, 3. 9.46.8 | Ne in small meares containe his glory great, 3. 9.46.9 | That \Albion\ had conquered first by warlike feat. 3. 9.47.1 | Ah fairest Lady knight, (said \Paridell\) 3. 9.47.2 | Pardon I pray my heedlesse ouersight, 3. 9.47.3 | Who had forgot, that whilome I heard tell 3. 9.47.4 | From aged \Mnemon\; for my wits bene light. 3. 9.47.5 | Indeed he said (if I remember right,) 3. 9.47.6 | That of the antique \Troian\ stocke, there grew 3. 9.47.7 | Another plant, that raught to wondrous hight, 3. 9.47.8 | And far abroad his mighty branches threw, 3. 9.47.9 | Into the vtmost Angle of the world he knew. 3. 9.48.1 | For that same \Brute\, whom much he did aduaunce 3. 9.48.2 | In all his speach, was \Syluius\ his sonne, 3. 9.48.3 | Whom hauing slaine, through luckles arrowes glaunce 3. 9.48.4 | He fled for feare of that he had misdonne, 3. 9.48.5 | Or else for shame, so fowle reproch to shonne, 3. 9.48.6 | And with him led to sea an youthly trayne, 3. 9.48.7 | Where wearie wandring they long time did wonne, 3. 9.48.8 | And many fortunes prou'd in th'=\Ocean\ mayne, 3. 9.48.9 | And great aduentures found, that now were long to sayne. 3. 9.49.1 | At last by fatall course they driuen were 3. 9.49.2 | Into an Island spatious and brode, 3. 9.49.3 | The furthest North, that did to them appeare: 3. 9.49.4 | Which after rest they seeking far abrode, 3. 9.49.5 | Found it the fittest soyle for their abode, 3. 9.49.6 | Fruitfull of all things fit for liuing foode, 3. 9.49.7 | But wholy wast, and void of peoples trode, 3. 9.49.8 | Saue an huge nation of the Geaunts broode, 3. 9.49.9 | That fed on liuing flesh, and druncke mens vitall blood. 3. 9.50.1 | Whom he through wearie wars and labours long, 3. 9.50.2 | Subdewd with losse of many \Britons\ bold: 3. 9.50.3 | In which the great \Goemagot\ of strong 3. 9.50.4 | \Corineus\, and \Coulin\ of \Debon\ old 3. 9.50.5 | Were ouerthrowne, and layd on th'=earth full cold, 3. 9.50.6 | Which quaked vnder their so hideous masse, 3. 9.50.7 | A famous history to be enrold 3. 9.50.8 | In euerlasting moniments of brasse, 3. 9.50.9 | That all the antique Worthies merits far did passe. 3. 9.51.1 | His worke great \Troynouant\, his worke is eke 3. 9.51.2 | Faire \Lincolne\, both renowmed far away, 3. 9.51.3 | That who from East to West will endlong seeke, 3. 9.51.4 | Cannot two fairer Cities find this day, 3. 9.51.5 | Except \Cleopolis:\ so heard I say 3. 9.51.6 | Old \Mnemon\. Therefore Sir, I greet you well 3. 9.51.7 | Your countrey kin, and you entirely pray 3. 9.51.8 | Of pardon for the strife, which late befell 3. 9.51.9 | Betwixt vs both vnknowne. So ended \Paridell\. 3. 9.52.1 | But all the while, that he these speaches spent, 3. 9.52.2 | Vpon his lips hong faire Dame \Hellenore\, 3. 9.52.3 | With vigilant regard, and dew attent, 3. 9.52.4 | Fashioning worlds of fancies euermore 3. 9.52.5 | In her fraile wit, that now her quite forlore: 3. 9.52.6 | The whiles vnwares away her wondring eye, 3. 9.52.7 | And greedy eares her weake hart from her bore: 3. 9.52.8 | Which he perceiuing, euer priuily 3. 9.52.9 | In speaking, many false belgardes at her let fly. 3. 9.53.1 | So long these knights discoursed diuersly, 3. 9.53.2 | Of straunge affaires, and noble hardiment, 3. 9.53.3 | Which they had past with mickle ieopardy, 3. 9.53.4 | That now the humid night was farforth spent, 3. 9.53.5 | And heauenly lampes were halfendeale ybrent: 3. 9.53.6 | Which th'=old man seeing well, who too long thought 3. 9.53.7 | Euery discourse and euery argument, 3. 9.53.8 | Which by the houres he measured, besought 3. 9.53.9 | Them go to rest. So all vnto their bowres were brought. 3.10. A.1 | \Paridell rapeth Hellenore:\ 3.10. A.2 | \Malbecco her pursewes:\ 3.10. A.3 | \Findes emongst Satyres, whence with him\ 3.10. A.4 | \To turne she doth refuse.\ 3.10. 1.1 | The morow next, so soone as \Pho+ebus\ Lamp 3.10. 1.2 | Bewrayed had the world with early light, 3.10. 1.3 | And fresh \Aurora\ had the shady damp 3.10. 1.4 | Out of the goodly heauen amoued quight, 3.10. 1.5 | Faire \Britomart\ and that same \Faerie\ knight 3.10. 1.6 | Vprose, forth on their iourney for to wend: 3.10. 1.7 | But \Paridell\ complaynd, that his late fight 3.10. 1.8 | With \Britomart\, so sore did him offend, 3.10. 1.9 | That ryde he could not, till his hurts he did amend. 3.10. 2.1 | So forth they far'd, but he behind them stayd, 3.10. 2.2 | Maulgre his host, who grudged grieuously, 3.10. 2.3 | To house a guest, that would be needes obayd, 3.10. 2.4 | And of his owne him left not liberty: 3.10. 2.5 | Might wanting measure moueth surquedry. 3.10. 2.6 | Two things he feared, but the third was death; 3.10. 2.7 | That fierce youngmans vnruly maistery; 3.10. 2.8 | His money, which he lou'd as liuing breath; 3.10. 2.9 | And his faire wife, whom honest long he kept vneath. 3.10. 3.1 | But patience perforce he must abie, 3.10. 3.2 | What fortune and his fate on him will lay, 3.10. 3.3 | Fond is the feare, that findes no remedie; 3.10. 3.4 | Yet warily he watcheth euery way, 3.10. 3.5 | By which he feareth euill happen may: 3.10. 3.6 | So th'=euill thinkes by watching to preuent; 3.10. 3.7 | Ne doth he suffer her, nor night, nor day, 3.10. 3.8 | Out of his sight her selfe once to absent. 3.10. 3.9 | So doth he punish her and eke himselfe torment. 3.10. 4.1 | But \Paridell\ kept better watch, then hee, 3.10. 4.2 | A fit occasion for his turne to find: 3.10. 4.3 | False loue, why do men say, thou canst not see, 3.10. 4.4 | And in their foolish fancie feigne thee blind, 3.10. 4.5 | That with thy charmes the sharpest sight doest bind, 3.10. 4.6 | And to thy will abuse? Thou walkest free, 3.10. 4.7 | And seest euery secret of the mind; 3.10. 4.8 | Thou seest all, yet none at all sees thee; 3.10. 4.9 | All that is by the working of thy Deitee. 3.10. 5.1 | So perfect in that art was \Paridell\, 3.10. 5.2 | That he \Malbeccoes\ halfen eye did wyle, 3.10. 5.3 | His halfen eye he wiled wondrous well, 3.10. 5.4 | And \Hellenors\ both eyes did eke beguyle, 3.10. 5.5 | Both eyes and hart attonce, during the whyle 3.10. 5.6 | That he there soiourned his wounds to heale; 3.10. 5.7 | That \Cupid\ selfe it seeing, close did smyle, 3.10. 5.8 | To weet how he her loue away did steale, 3.10. 5.9 | And bad, that none their ioyous treason should reueale. 3.10. 6.1 | The learned louer lost no time nor tyde, 3.10. 6.2 | That least auantage mote to him afford, 3.10. 6.3 | Yet bore so faire a saile, that none espyde 3.10. 6.4 | His secret drift, till he her layd abord. 3.10. 6.5 | When so in open place, and commune bord, 3.10. 6.6 | He fortun'd her to meet, with commune speach 3.10. 6.7 | He courted her, yet bayted euery word, 3.10. 6.8 | That his vngentle hoste n'ote him appeach 3.10. 6.9 | Of vile vngentlenesse, or hospitages breach. 3.10. 7.1 | But when apart (if euer her apart) 3.10. 7.2 | He found, then his false engins fast he plyde, 3.10. 7.3 | And all the sleights vnbosomd in his hart; 3.10. 7.4 | He sigh'd, he sobd, he swownd, he perdy dyde, 3.10. 7.5 | And cast himselfe on ground her fast besyde: 3.10. 7.6 | Tho when againe he him bethought to liue, 3.10. 7.7 | He wept, and wayld, and false laments belyde, 3.10. 7.8 | Saying, but if she Mercie would him giue 3.10. 7.9 | That he mote algates dye, yet did his death forgiue. 3.10. 8.1 | And otherwhiles with amorous delights, 3.10. 8.2 | And pleasing toyes he would her entertaine, 3.10. 8.3 | Now singing sweetly, to surprise her sprights, 3.10. 8.4 | Now making layes of loue and louers paine, 3.10. 8.5 | Bransles, Ballads, virelayes, and verses vaine; 3.10. 8.6 | Oft purposes, oft riddles he deuysd, 3.10. 8.7 | And thousands like, which flowed in his braine, 3.10. 8.8 | With which he fed her fancie, and entysd 3.10. 8.9 | To take to his new loue, and leaue her old despysd. 3.10. 9.1 | And euery where he might, and euery while 3.10. 9.2 | He did her seruice dewtifull, and sewed 3.10. 9.3 | At hand with humble pride, and pleasing guile, 3.10. 9.4 | So closely yet, that none but she it vewed, 3.10. 9.5 | Who well perceiued all, and all indewed. 3.10. 9.6 | Thus finely did he his false nets dispred, 3.10. 9.7 | With which he many weake harts had subdewed 3.10. 9.8 | Of yore, and many had ylike misled: 3.10. 9.9 | What wonder then, if she were likewise carried? 3.10.10.1 | No fort so fensible, no wals so strong, 3.10.10.2 | But that continuall battery will riue, 3.10.10.3 | Or daily siege through dispuruayance long, 3.10.10.4 | And lacke of reskewes will to parley driue; 3.10.10.5 | And Peece, that vnto parley eare will giue, 3.10.10.6 | Will shortly yeeld it selfe, and will be made 3.10.10.7 | The vassall of the victors will byliue: 3.10.10.8 | That stratageme had oftentimes assayd 3.10.10.9 | This crafty Paramoure, and now it plaine displayd. 3.10.11.1 | For through his traines he her intrapped hath, 3.10.11.2 | That she her loue and hart hath wholy sold 3.10.11.3 | To him, without regard of gaine, or scath, 3.10.11.4 | Or care of credite, or of husband old, 3.10.11.5 | Whom she hath vow'd to dub a faire Cucquold. 3.10.11.6 | Nought wants but time and place, which shortly shee 3.10.11.7 | Deuized hath, and to her louer told. 3.10.11.8 | It pleased well. So well they both agree; 3.10.11.9 | So readie rype to ill, ill wemens counsels bee. 3.10.12.1 | Darke was the Euening, fit for louers stealth, 3.10.12.2 | When chaunst \Malbecco\ busie be elsewhere, 3.10.12.3 | She to his closet went, where all his wealth 3.10.12.4 | Lay hid: thereof she countlesse summes did reare, 3.10.12.5 | The which she meant away with her to beare; 3.10.12.6 | The rest she fyr'd for sport, or for despight; 3.10.12.7 | As \Hellene\, when she saw aloft appeare 3.10.12.8 | The \Troiane\ flames, and reach to heauens hight 3.10.12.9 | Did clap her hands, and ioyed at that dolefull sight. 3.10.13.1 | This second \Hellene\, faire Dame \Hellenore\, 3.10.13.2 | The whiles her husband ranne with sory haste, 3.10.13.3 | To quench the flames, which she had tyn'd before, 3.10.13.4 | Laught at his foolish labour spent in waste; 3.10.13.5 | And ranne into her louers armes right fast; 3.10.13.6 | Where streight embraced, she to him did cry, 3.10.13.7 | And call aloud for helpe, ere helpe were past; 3.10.13.8 | For loe that Guest would beare her forcibly, 3.10.13.9 | And meant to rauish her, that rather had to dy. 3.10.14.1 | The wretched man hearing her call for ayd, 3.10.14.2 | And readie seeing him with her to fly, 3.10.14.3 | In his disquiet mind was much dismayd: 3.10.14.4 | But when againe he backward cast his eye, 3.10.14.5 | And saw the wicked fire so furiously 3.10.14.6 | Consume his hart, and scorch his Idoles face, 3.10.14.7 | He was therewith distressed diuersly, 3.10.14.8 | Ne wist he how to turne, nor to what place; 3.10.14.9 | Was neuer wretched man in such a wofull cace. 3.10.15.1 | Ay when to him she cryde, to her he turnd, 3.10.15.2 | And left the fire; loue money ouercame: 3.10.15.3 | But when he marked, how his money burnd, 3.10.15.4 | He left his wife; money did loue disclame: 3.10.15.5 | Both was he loth to loose his loued Dame, 3.10.15.6 | And loth to leaue his liefest pelfe behind, 3.10.15.7 | Yet sith he n'ote saue both, he sau'd that same, 3.10.15.8 | Which was the dearest to his donghill mind, 3.10.15.9 | The God of his desire, the ioy of misers blind. 3.10.16.1 | Thus whilest all things in troublous vprore were, 3.10.16.2 | And all men busie to suppresse the flame, 3.10.16.3 | The louing couple need no reskew feare, 3.10.16.4 | But leasure had, and libertie to frame 3.10.16.5 | Their purpost flight, free from all mens reclame; 3.10.16.6 | And Night, the patronesse of loue-stealth faire, 3.10.16.7 | Gaue them safe conduct, till to end they came: 3.10.16.8 | So bene they gone yfeare, a wanton paire 3.10.16.9 | Of louers loosely knit, where list them to repaire. 3.10.17.1 | Soone as the cruell flames yslaked were, 3.10.17.2 | \Malbecco\ seeing, how his losse did lye, 3.10.17.3 | Out of the flames, which he had quencht whylere 3.10.17.4 | Into huge waues of griefe and gealosye 3.10.17.5 | Full deepe emplonged was, and drowned nye, 3.10.17.6 | Twixt inward doole and felonous despight; 3.10.17.7 | He rau'd, he wept, he stampt, he lowd did cry, 3.10.17.8 | And all the passions, that in man may light, 3.10.17.9 | Did him attonce oppresse, and vex his caytiue spright. 3.10.18.1 | Long thus he chawd the cud of inward griefe, 3.10.18.2 | And did consume his gall with anguish sore, 3.10.18.3 | Still when he mused on his late mischiefe, 3.10.18.4 | Then still the smart thereof increased more, 3.10.18.5 | And seem'd more grieuous, then it was before: 3.10.18.6 | At last when sorrow he saw booted nought, 3.10.18.7 | Ne griefe might not his loue to him restore, 3.10.18.8 | He gan deuise, how her he reskew mought, 3.10.18.9 | Ten thousand wayes he cast in his confused thought. 3.10.19.1 | At last resoluing, like a pilgrim pore, 3.10.19.2 | To search her forth, where so she might be fond, 3.10.19.3 | And bearing with him treasure in close store, 3.10.19.4 | The rest he leaues in ground: So takes in hond 3.10.19.5 | To seeke her endlong, both by sea and lond. 3.10.19.6 | Long he her sought, he sought her farre and nere, 3.10.19.7 | And euery where that he mote vnderstond, 3.10.19.8 | Of knights and ladies any meetings were, 3.10.19.9 | And of eachone he met, he tydings did inquere. 3.10.20.1 | But all in vaine, his woman was too wise, 3.10.20.2 | Euer to come into his clouch againe, 3.10.20.3 | And he too simple euer to surprise 3.10.20.4 | The iolly \Paridell\, for all his paine. 3.10.20.5 | One day, as he forpassed by the plaine 3.10.20.6 | With weary pace, he farre away espide 3.10.20.7 | A couple, seeming well to be his twaine, 3.10.20.8 | Which houed close vnder a forrest side, 3.10.20.9 | As if they lay in wait, or else themselues did hide. 3.10.21.1 | Well weened he, that those the same mote bee, 3.10.21.2 | And as he better did their shape auize, 3.10.21.3 | Him seemed more their manner did agree; 3.10.21.4 | For th'=one was armed all in warlike wize, 3.10.21.5 | Whom, to be \Paridell\ he did deuize; 3.10.21.6 | And th'=other all yclad in garments light, 3.10.21.7 | Discolour'd like to womanish disguise, 3.10.21.8 | He did resemble to his Ladie bright; 3.10.21.9 | And euer his faint hart much earned at the sight. 3.10.22.1 | And euer faine he towards them would goe, 3.10.22.2 | But yet durst not for dread approchen nie, 3.10.22.3 | But stood aloofe, vnweeting what to doe; 3.10.22.4 | Till that prickt forth with loues extremitie, 3.10.22.5 | That is the father of foule gealosy, 3.10.22.6 | He closely nearer crept, the truth to weet: 3.10.22.7 | But, as he nigher drew, he easily 3.10.22.8 | Might scerne, that it was not his sweetest sweet, 3.10.22.9 | Ne yet her Belamour, the partner of his sheet. 3.10.23.1 | But it was scornefull \Braggadocchio\, 3.10.23.2 | That with his seruant \Trompart\ houerd there, 3.10.23.3 | Sith late he fled from his too earnest foe: 3.10.23.4 | Whom such when as \Malbecco\ spyed clere, 3.10.23.5 | He turned backe, and would haue fled arere; 3.10.23.6 | Till \Trompart\ ronning hastily, him did stay, 3.10.23.7 | And bad before his soueraine Lord appere: 3.10.23.8 | That was him loth, yet durst he not gainesay, 3.10.23.9 | And comming him before, low louted on the lay. 3.10.24.1 | The Boaster at him sternely bent his browe, 3.10.24.2 | As if he could haue kild him with his looke, 3.10.24.3 | That to the ground him meekely made to bowe, 3.10.24.4 | And awfull terror deepe into him strooke, 3.10.24.5 | That euery member of his bodie quooke. 3.10.24.6 | Said he, Thou man of nought, what doest thou here, 3.10.24.7 | Vnfitly furnisht with thy bag and booke, 3.10.24.8 | Where I expected one with shield and spere, 3.10.24.9 | To proue some deedes of armes vpon an equall pere. 3.10.25.1 | The wretched man at his imperious speach, 3.10.25.2 | Was all abasht, and low prostrating, said; 3.10.25.3 | Good Sir, let not my rudenesse be no breach 3.10.25.4 | Vnto your patience, ne be ill ypaid; 3.10.25.5 | For I vnwares this way by fortune straid, 3.10.25.6 | A silly Pilgrim driuen to distresse, 3.10.25.7 | That seeke a Lady, There he suddein staid, 3.10.25.8 | And did the rest with grieuous sighes suppresse, 3.10.25.9 | While teares stood in his eies, few drops of bitternesse. 3.10.26.1 | What Ladie, man? (said \Trompart\) take good hart, 3.10.26.2 | And tell thy griefe, if any hidden lye; 3.10.26.3 | Was neuer better time to shew thy smart, 3.10.26.4 | Then now, that noble succour is thee by, 3.10.26.5 | That is the whole worlds commune remedy. 3.10.26.6 | That cheareful word his weake hart much did cheare, 3.10.26.7 | And with vaine hope his spirits faint supply, 3.10.26.8 | That bold he said; O most redoubted Pere, 3.10.26.9 | Vouchsafe with mild regard a wretches cace to heare. 3.10.27.1 | Then sighing sore, It is not long (said hee) 3.10.27.2 | Sith I enioyd the gentlest Dame aliue; 3.10.27.3 | Of whom a knight, no knight at all perdee, 3.10.27.4 | But shame of all, that doe for honor striue, 3.10.27.5 | By treacherous deceipt did me depriue; 3.10.27.6 | Through open outrage he her bore away, 3.10.27.7 | And with fowle force vnto his will did driue, 3.10.27.8 | Which all good knights, that armes do beare this day, 3.10.27.9 | Are bound for to reuenge, and punish if they may. 3.10.28.1 | And you most noble Lord, that can and dare 3.10.28.2 | Redresse the wrong of miserable wight, 3.10.28.3 | Cannot employ your most victorious speare 3.10.28.4 | In better quarrell, then defence of right, 3.10.28.5 | And for a Ladie gainst a faithlesse knight; 3.10.28.6 | So shall your glory be aduaunced much, 3.10.28.7 | And all faire Ladies magnifie your might, 3.10.28.8 | And eke my selfe, albe I simple such, 3.10.28.9 | Your worthy paine shall well reward with guerdon rich. 3.10.29.1 | With that out of his bouget forth he drew 3.10.29.2 | Great store of treasure, therewith him to tempt; 3.10.29.3 | But he on it lookt scornefully askew, 3.10.29.4 | As much disdeigning to be so misdempt, 3.10.29.5 | Or a war-monger to be basely nempt; 3.10.29.6 | And said; Thy offers base I greatly loth, 3.10.29.7 | And eke thy words vncourteous and vnkempt; 3.10.29.8 | I tread in dust thee and thy money both, 3.10.29.9 | That, were it not for shame, So turned from him wroth. 3.10.30.1 | But \Trompart\, that his maisters humor knew, 3.10.30.2 | In lofty lookes to hide an humble mind, 3.10.30.3 | Was inly tickled with that golden vew, 3.10.30.4 | And in his eare him rounded close behind: 3.10.30.5 | Yet stoupt he not, but lay still in the wind, 3.10.30.6 | Waiting aduauntage on the pray to sease; 3.10.30.7 | Till \Trompart\ lowly to the ground inclind, 3.10.30.8 | Besought him his great courage to appease, 3.10.30.9 | And pardon simple man, that rash did him displease. 3.10.31.1 | Bigge looking like a doughtie Doucepere, 3.10.31.2 | At last he thus; Thou clod of vilest clay, 3.10.31.3 | I pardon yield, and with thy rudenesse beare; 3.10.31.4 | But weete henceforth, that all that golden pray, 3.10.31.5 | And all that else the vaine world vaunten may, 3.10.31.6 | I loath as doung, ne deeme my dew reward: 3.10.31.7 | Fame is my meed, and glory vertues pray. 3.10.31.8 | But minds of mortall men are muchell mard, 3.10.31.9 | And mou'd amisse with massie mucks vnmeet regard. 3.10.32.1 | And more, I graunt to thy great miserie 3.10.32.2 | Gratious respect, thy wife shall backe be sent, 3.10.32.3 | And that vile knight, who euer that he bee, 3.10.32.4 | Which hath thy Lady reft, and knighthood shent, 3.10.32.5 | By \Sanglamort\ my sword, whose deadly dent 3.10.32.6 | The bloud hath of so many thousands shed, 3.10.32.7 | I sweare, ere long shall dearely it repent; 3.10.32.8 | Ne he twixt heauen and earth shall hide his hed, 3.10.32.9 | But soone he shall be found, and shortly doen be ded. 3.10.33.1 | The foolish man thereat woxe wondrous blith, 3.10.33.2 | As if the word so spoken, were halfe donne, 3.10.33.3 | And humbly thanked him a thousand sith, 3.10.33.4 | That had from death to life him newly wonne. 3.10.33.5 | Tho forth the Boaster marching, braue begonne 3.10.33.6 | His stolen steed to thunder furiously, 3.10.33.7 | As if he heauen and hell would ouerronne, 3.10.33.8 | And all the world confound with cruelty, 3.10.33.9 | That much \Malbecco\ ioyed in his iollity. 3.10.34.1 | Thus long they three together traueiled, 3.10.34.2 | Through many a wood, and many an vncouth way, 3.10.34.3 | To seeke his wife, that was farre wandered: 3.10.34.4 | But those two sought nought, but the present pray, 3.10.34.5 | To weete the treasure, which he did bewray, 3.10.34.6 | On which their eies and harts were wholly set, 3.10.34.7 | With purpose, how they might it best betray; 3.10.34.8 | For sith the houre, that first he did them let 3.10.34.9 | The same behold, therewith their keene desires were whet. 3.10.35.1 | It fortuned as they together far'd, 3.10.35.2 | They spide, where \Paridell\ came pricking fast 3.10.35.3 | Vpon the plaine, the which himselfe prepar'd 3.10.35.4 | To giust with that braue straunger knight a cast, 3.10.35.5 | As on aduenture by the way he past: 3.10.35.6 | Alone he rode without his Paragone; 3.10.35.7 | For hauing filcht her bels, her vp he cast 3.10.35.8 | To the wide world, and let her fly alone, 3.10.35.9 | He nould be clogd. So had he serued many one. 3.10.36.1 | The gentle Lady, loose at randon left, 3.10.36.2 | The greene-wood long did walke, and wander wide 3.10.36.3 | At wilde aduenture, like a forlorne weft, 3.10.36.4 | Till on a day the \Satyres\ her espide 3.10.36.5 | Straying alone withouten groome or guide; 3.10.36.6 | Her vp they tooke, and with them home her led, 3.10.36.7 | With them as housewife euer to abide, 3.10.36.8 | To milk their gotes, and make them cheese and bred, 3.10.36.9 | And euery one as commune good her handeled. 3.10.37.1 | That shortly she \Malbecco\ has forgot, 3.10.37.2 | And eke Sir \Paridell\, all were he deare; 3.10.37.3 | Who from her went to seeke another lot, 3.10.37.4 | And now by fortune was arriued here, 3.10.37.5 | Where those two guilers with \Malbecco\ were: 3.10.37.6 | Soone as the oldman saw Sir \Paridell\, 3.10.37.7 | He fainted, and was almost dead with feare, 3.10.37.8 | Ne word he had to speake, his griefe to tell, 3.10.37.9 | But to him louted low, and greeted goodly well. 3.10.38.1 | And after asked him for \Hellenore\, 3.10.38.2 | I take no keepe of her (said \Paridell\) 3.10.38.3 | She wonneth in the forrest there before. 3.10.38.4 | So forth he rode, as his aduenture fell; 3.10.38.5 | The whiles the Boaster from his loftie sell 3.10.38.6 | Faynd to alight, something amisse to mend; 3.10.38.7 | But the fresh Swayne would not his leasure dwell, 3.10.38.8 | But went his way; whom when he passed kend, 3.10.38.9 | He vp remounted light, and after faind to wend. 3.10.39.1 | Perdy nay (said \Malbecco\) shall ye not: 3.10.39.2 | But let him passe as lightly, as he came: 3.10.39.3 | For litle good of him is to be got, 3.10.39.4 | And mickle perill to be put to shame. 3.10.39.5 | But let vs go to seeke my dearest Dame, 3.10.39.6 | Whom he hath left in yonder forrest wyld: 3.10.39.7 | For of her safety in great doubt I am, 3.10.39.8 | Least saluage beastes her person haue despoyld: 3.10.39.9 | Then all the world is lost, and we in vaine haue toyld. 3.10.40.1 | They all agree, and forward them addrest: 3.10.40.2 | Ah but (said craftie \Trompart\) weete ye well, 3.10.40.3 | That yonder in that wastefull wildernesse 3.10.40.4 | Huge monsters haunt, and many dangers dwell; 3.10.40.5 | Dragons, and Minotaures, and feendes of hell, 3.10.40.6 | And many wilde woodmen, which robbe and rend 3.10.40.7 | All trauellers; therefore aduise ye well, 3.10.40.8 | Before ye enterprise that way to wend: 3.10.40.9 | One may his iourney bring too soone to euill end. 3.10.41.1 | \Malbecco\ stopt in great astonishment, 3.10.41.2 | And with pale eyes fast fixed on the rest, 3.10.41.3 | Their counsell crau'd, in daunger imminent. 3.10.41.4 | Said \Trompart\, You that are the most opprest 3.10.41.5 | With burden of great treasure, I thinke best 3.10.41.6 | Here for to stay in safetie behind; 3.10.41.7 | My Lord and I will search the wide forrest. 3.10.41.8 | That counsell pleased not \Malbeccoes\ mind; 3.10.41.9 | For he was much affraid, himselfe alone to find. 3.10.42.1 | Then is it best (said he) that ye doe leaue 3.10.42.2 | Your treasure here in some securitie, 3.10.42.3 | Either fast closed in some hollow greaue, 3.10.42.4 | Or buried in the ground from ieopardie, 3.10.42.5 | Till we returne againe in safetie: 3.10.42.6 | As for vs two, least doubt of vs ye haue, 3.10.42.7 | Hence farre away we will blindfolded lie, 3.10.42.8 | Ne priuie be vnto your treasures graue. 3.10.42.9 | It pleased: so he did. Then they march forward braue. 3.10.43.1 | Now when amid the thickest woods they were, 3.10.43.2 | They heard a noyse of many bagpipes shrill, 3.10.43.3 | And shrieking Hububs them approching nere, 3.10.43.4 | Which all the forrest did with horror fill: 3.10.43.5 | That dreadfull sound the boasters hart did thrill, 3.10.43.6 | With such amazement, that in haste he fled, 3.10.43.7 | Ne euer looked backe for good or ill, 3.10.43.8 | And after him eke fearefull \Trompart\ sped; 3.10.43.9 | The old man could not fly, but fell to ground halfe ded. 3.10.44.1 | Yet afterwards close creeping, as he might, 3.10.44.2 | He in a bush did hide his fearefull hed, 3.10.44.3 | The iolly \Satyres\ full of fresh delight, 3.10.44.4 | Came dauncing forth, and with them nimbly led 3.10.44.5 | Faire \Hellenore\, with girlonds all bespred, 3.10.44.6 | Whom their May-lady they had newly made: 3.10.44.7 | She proud of that new honour, which they red, 3.10.44.8 | And of their louely fellowship full glade, 3.10.44.9 | Daunst liuely, and her face did with a Lawrell shade. 3.10.45.1 | The silly man that in the thicket lay 3.10.45.2 | Saw all this goodly sport, and grieued sore, 3.10.45.3 | Yet durst he not against it doe or say, 3.10.45.4 | But did his hart with bitter thoughts engore, 3.10.45.5 | To see th'=vnkindnesse of his \Hellenore\. 3.10.45.6 | All day they daunced with great lustihed, 3.10.45.7 | And with their horned feet the greene grasse wore, 3.10.45.8 | The whiles their Gotes vpon the brouzes fed, 3.10.45.9 | Till drouping \Pho+ebus\ gan to hide his golden hed. 3.10.46.1 | Tho vp they gan their merry pypes to trusse, 3.10.46.2 | And all their goodly heards did gather round, 3.10.46.3 | But euery \Satyre\ first did giue a busse 3.10.46.4 | To \Hellenore\: so busses did abound. 3.10.46.5 | Now gan the humid vapour shed the ground 3.10.46.6 | With perly deaw, and th'=Earthes gloomy shade 3.10.46.7 | Did dim the brightnesse of the welkin round, 3.10.46.8 | That euery bird and beast awarned made, 3.10.46.9 | To shrowd themselues, whiles sleepe their senses did inuade. 3.10.47.1 | Which when \Malbecco\ saw, out of his bush 3.10.47.2 | Vpon his hands and feete he crept full light, 3.10.47.3 | And like a Gote emongst the Gotes did rush, 3.10.47.4 | That through the helpe of his faire hornes on hight, 3.10.47.5 | And misty dampe of misconceiuing night, 3.10.47.6 | And eke through likenesse of his gotish beard, 3.10.47.7 | He did the better counterfeite aright: 3.10.47.8 | So home he marcht emongst the horned heard, 3.10.47.9 | That none of all the \Satyres\ him espyde or heard. 3.10.48.1 | At night, when all they went to sleepe, he vewd, 3.10.48.2 | Whereas his louely wife emongst them lay, 3.10.48.3 | Embraced of a \Satyre\ rough and rude, 3.10.48.4 | Who all the night did minde his ioyous play: 3.10.48.5 | Nine times he heard him come aloft ere day, 3.10.48.6 | That all his hart with gealosie did swell; 3.10.48.7 | But yet that nights ensample did bewray, 3.10.48.8 | That not for nought his wife them loued so well, 3.10.48.9 | When one so oft a night did ring his matins bell. 3.10.49.1 | So closely as he could, he to them crept, 3.10.49.2 | When wearie of their sport to sleepe they fell, 3.10.49.3 | And to his wife, that now full soundly slept, 3.10.49.4 | He whispered in her eare, and did her tell, 3.10.49.5 | That it was he, which by her side did dwell, 3.10.49.6 | And therefore prayd her wake, to heare him plaine. 3.10.49.7 | As one out of a dreame not waked well, 3.10.49.8 | She turned her, and returned backe againe: 3.10.49.9 | Yet her for to awake he did the more constraine. 3.10.50.1 | At last with irkesome trouble she abrayd; 3.10.50.2 | And then perceiuing, that it was indeed 3.10.50.3 | Her old \Malbecco\, which did her vpbrayd, 3.10.50.4 | With loosenesse of her loue, and loathly deed, 3.10.50.5 | She was astonisht with exceeding dreed, 3.10.50.6 | And would haue wakt the \Satyre\ by her syde; 3.10.50.7 | But he her prayd, for mercy, or for meed, 3.10.50.8 | To saue his life, ne let him be descryde, 3.10.50.9 | But hearken to his lore, and all his counsell hyde. 3.10.51.1 | Tho gan he her perswade, to leaue that lewd 3.10.51.2 | And loathsome life, of God and man abhord, 3.10.51.3 | And home returne, where all should be renewd 3.10.51.4 | With perfect peace, and bandes of fresh accord, 3.10.51.5 | And she receiu'd againe to bed and bord, 3.10.51.6 | As if no trespasse euer had bene donne: 3.10.51.7 | But she it all refused at one word, 3.10.51.8 | And by no meanes would to his will be wonne, 3.10.51.9 | But chose emongst the iolly \Satyres\ still to wonne. 3.10.52.1 | He wooed her, till day spring he espyde; 3.10.52.2 | But all in vaine: and then turnd to the heard, 3.10.52.3 | Who butted him with hornes on euery syde, 3.10.52.4 | And trode downe in the durt, where his hore beard 3.10.52.5 | Was fowly dight, and he of death afeard. 3.10.52.6 | Early before the heauens fairest light 3.10.52.7 | Out of the ruddy East was fully reard, 3.10.52.8 | The heardes out of their foldes were loosed quight, 3.10.52.9 | And he emongst the rest crept forth in sory plight. 3.10.53.1 | So soone as he the Prison dore did pas, 3.10.53.2 | He ran as fast, as both his feete could beare, 3.10.53.3 | And neuer looked, who behind him was, 3.10.53.4 | Ne scarsely who before: like as a Beare 3.10.53.5 | That creeping close, amongst the hiues to reare 3.10.53.6 | An hony combe, the wakefull dogs espy, 3.10.53.7 | And him assayling, sore his carkasse teare, 3.10.53.8 | That hardly he with life away does fly, 3.10.53.9 | Ne stayes, till safe himselfe he see from ieopardy. 3.10.54.1 | Ne stayd he, till he came vnto the place, 3.10.54.2 | Where late his treasure he entombed had, 3.10.54.3 | Where when he found it not (for \Trompart\ bace 3.10.54.4 | Had it purloyned for his maister bad:) 3.10.54.5 | With extreme fury he became quite mad, 3.10.54.6 | And ran away, ran with himselfe away: 3.10.54.7 | That who so straungely had him seene bestad, 3.10.54.8 | With vpstart haire, and staring eyes dismay, 3.10.54.9 | From Limbo lake him late escaped sure would say. 3.10.55.1 | High ouer hilles and ouer dales he fled, 3.10.55.2 | As if the wind him on his winges had borne, 3.10.55.3 | Ne banck nor bush could stay him, when he sped 3.10.55.4 | His nimble feet, as treading still on thorne: 3.10.55.5 | Griefe, and despight, and gealosie, and scorne 3.10.55.6 | Did all the way him follow hard behind, 3.10.55.7 | And he himselfe himselfe loath'd so forlorne, 3.10.55.8 | So shamefully forlorne of womankind; 3.10.55.9 | That as a Snake, still lurked in his wounded mind. 3.10.56.1 | Still fled he forward, looking backward still, 3.10.56.2 | Ne stayd his flight, nor fearefull agony, 3.10.56.3 | Till that he came vnto a rockie hill, 3.10.56.4 | Ouer the sea, suspended dreadfully, 3.10.56.5 | That liuing creature it would terrify, 3.10.56.6 | To looke adowne, or vpward to the hight: 3.10.56.7 | From thence he threw himselfe dispiteously, 3.10.56.8 | All desperate of his fore-damned spright, 3.10.56.9 | That seem'd no helpe for him was left in liuing sight. 3.10.57.1 | But through long anguish, and selfe-murdring thought 3.10.57.2 | He was so wasted and forpined quight, 3.10.57.3 | That all his substance was consum'd to nought, 3.10.57.4 | And nothing left, but like an aery Spright, 3.10.57.5 | That on the rockes he fell so flit and light, 3.10.57.6 | That he thereby receiu'd no hurt at all, 3.10.57.7 | But chaunced on a craggy cliff to light; 3.10.57.8 | Whence he with crooked clawes so long did crall, 3.10.57.9 | That at the last he found a caue with entrance small. 3.10.58.1 | Into the same he creepes, and thenceforth there 3.10.58.2 | Resolu'd to build his balefull mansion, 3.10.58.3 | In drery darkenesse, and continuall feare 3.10.58.4 | Of that rockes fall, which euer and anon 3.10.58.5 | Threates with huge ruine him to fall vpon, 3.10.58.6 | That he dare neuer sleepe, but that one eye 3.10.58.7 | Still ope he keepes for that occasion; 3.10.58.8 | Ne euer rests he in tranquillity, 3.10.58.9 | The roring billowes beat his bowre so boystrously. 3.10.59.1 | Ne euer is he wont on ought to feed, 3.10.59.2 | But toades and frogs, his pasture poysonous, 3.10.59.3 | Which in his cold complexion do breed 3.10.59.4 | A filthy bloud, or humour rancorous, 3.10.59.5 | Matter of doubt and dread suspitious, 3.10.59.6 | That doth with curelesse care consume the hart, 3.10.59.7 | Corrupts the stomacke with gall vitious, 3.10.59.8 | Croscuts the liuer with internall smart, 3.10.59.9 | And doth transfixe the soule with deathes eternall dart. 3.10.60.1 | Yet can he neuer dye, but dying liues, 3.10.60.2 | And doth himselfe with sorrow new sustaine, 3.10.60.3 | That death and life attonce vnto him giues. 3.10.60.4 | And painefull pleasure turnes to pleasing paine. 3.10.60.5 | There dwels he euer, miserable swaine, 3.10.60.6 | Hatefull both to him selfe, and euery wight; 3.10.60.7 | Where he through priuy griefe, and horrour vaine, 3.10.60.8 | Is woxen so deform'd, that he has quight 3.10.60.9 | Forgot he was a man, and \Gealosie\ is hight. 3.11. A.1 | \Britomart chaceth Ollyphant,\ 3.11. A.2 | \findes Scudamour distrest:\ 3.11. A.3 | \Assayes the house of Busyrane,\ 3.11. A.4 | \where Loues spoyles are exprest.\ 3.11. 1.1 | O hatefull hellish Snake, what furie furst 3.11. 1.2 | Brought thee from balefull house of \Proserpine\, 3.11. 1.3 | Where in her bosome she thee long had nurst, 3.11. 1.4 | And fostred vp with bitter milke of tine, 3.11. 1.5 | Fowle Gealosie, that turnest loue diuine 3.11. 1.6 | To ioylesse dread, and mak'st the louing hart 3.11. 1.7 | With hatefull thoughts to languish and to pine, 3.11. 1.8 | And feed it selfe with selfe-consuming smart? 3.11. 1.9 | Of all the passions in the mind thou vilest art. 3.11. 2.1 | O let him far be banished away, 3.11. 2.2 | And in his stead let Loue for euer dwell, 3.11. 2.3 | Sweet Loue, that doth his golden wings embay 3.11. 2.4 | In blessed Nectar, and pure Pleasures well, 3.11. 2.5 | Vntroubled of vile feare, or bitter fell. 3.11. 2.6 | And ye faire Ladies, that your kingdomes make 3.11. 2.7 | In th'=harts of men, them gouerne wisely well, 3.11. 2.8 | And of faire \Britomart\ ensample take, 3.11. 2.9 | That was as trew in loue, as Turtle to her make. 3.11. 3.1 | Who with Sir \Satyrane\, as earst ye red, 3.11. 3.2 | Forth ryding from \Malbeccoes\ hostlesse hous, 3.11. 3.3 | Far off aspyde a young man, the which fled 3.11. 3.4 | From an huge Geaunt, that with hideous 3.11. 3.5 | And hatefull outrage long him chaced thus; 3.11. 3.6 | It was that \Ollyphant\, the brother deare 3.11. 3.7 | Of that \Argante\ vile and vitious, 3.11. 3.8 | From whom the \Squire of Dames\ was reft whylere; 3.11. 3.9 | This all as bad as she, and worse, if worse ought were. 3.11. 4.1 | For as the sister did in feminine 3.11. 4.2 | And filthy lust exceede all woman kind, 3.11. 4.3 | So he surpassed his sex masculine, 3.11. 4.4 | In beastly vse that I did euer find; 3.11. 4.5 | Whom when as \Britomart\ beheld behind 3.11. 4.6 | The fearefull boy so greedily pursew, 3.11. 4.7 | She was emmoued in her noble mind, 3.11. 4.8 | T'=employ her puissaunce to his reskew, 3.11. 4.9 | And pricked fiercely forward, where she him did vew. 3.11. 5.1 | Ne was Sir \Satyrane\ her far behinde, 3.11. 5.2 | But with like fiercenesse did ensew the chace: 3.11. 5.3 | Whom when the Gyaunt saw, he soone resinde 3.11. 5.4 | His former suit, and from them fled apace; 3.11. 5.5 | They after both, and boldly bad him bace, 3.11. 5.6 | And each did striue the other to out-goe, 3.11. 5.7 | But he them both outran a wondrous space, 3.11. 5.8 | For he was long, and swift as any Roe, 3.11. 5.9 | And now made better speed, t'=escape his feared foe. 3.11. 6.1 | It was not \Satyrane\, whom he did feare, 3.11. 6.2 | But \Britomart\ the flowre of chastity; 3.11. 6.3 | For he the powre of chast hands might not beare, 3.11. 6.4 | But alwayes did their dread encounter fly: 3.11. 6.5 | And now so fast his feet he did apply, 3.11. 6.6 | That he has gotten to a forrest neare, 3.11. 6.7 | Where he is shrowded in security. 3.11. 6.8 | The wood they enter, and search euery where, 3.11. 6.9 | They searched diuersely, so both diuided were. 3.11. 7.1 | Faire \Britomart\ so long him followed, 3.11. 7.2 | That she at last came to a fountaine sheare, 3.11. 7.3 | By which there lay a knight all wallowed 3.11. 7.4 | Vpon the grassy ground, and by him neare 3.11. 7.5 | His haberieon, his helmet, and his speare; 3.11. 7.6 | A little off, his shield was rudely throwne, 3.11. 7.7 | On which the winged boy in colours cleare 3.11. 7.8 | Depeincted was, full easie to be knowne, 3.11. 7.9 | And he thereby, where euer it in field was showne. 3.11. 8.1 | His face vpon the ground did groueling ly, 3.11. 8.2 | As if he had bene slombring in the shade, 3.11. 8.3 | That the braue Mayd would not for courtesy, 3.11. 8.4 | Out of his quiet slomber him abrade, 3.11. 8.5 | Nor seeme too suddeinly him to inuade: 3.11. 8.6 | Still as she stood, she heard with grieuous throb 3.11. 8.7 | Him grone, as if his hart were peeces made, 3.11. 8.8 | And with most painefull pangs to sigh and sob, 3.11. 8.9 | That pitty did the Virgins hart of patience rob. 3.11. 9.1 | At last forth breaking into bitter plaintes 3.11. 9.2 | He said; O soueraigne Lord that sit'st on hye, 3.11. 9.3 | And raignst in blis emongst thy blessed Saintes, 3.11. 9.4 | How suffrest thou such shamefull cruelty, 3.11. 9.5 | So long vnwreaked of thine enimy? 3.11. 9.6 | Or hast thou, Lord, of good mens cause no heed? 3.11. 9.7 | Or doth thy iustice sleepe, and silent ly? 3.11. 9.8 | What booteth then the good and righteous deed, 3.11. 9.9 | If goodnesse find no grace, nor righteousnesse no meed? 3.11.10.1 | If good find grace, and righteousnesse reward, 3.11.10.2 | Why then is \Amoret\ in caytiue band, 3.11.10.3 | Sith that more bounteous creature neuer far'd 3.11.10.4 | On foot, vpon the face of liuing land? 3.11.10.5 | Or if that heauenly iustice may withstand 3.11.10.6 | The wrongfull outrage of vnrighteous men, 3.11.10.7 | Why then is \Busirane\ with wicked hand 3.11.10.8 | Suffred, these seuen monethes day in secret den 3.11.10.9 | My Lady and my loue so cruelly to pen? 3.11.11.1 | My Lady and my loue is cruelly pend 3.11.11.2 | In dolefull darkenesse from the vew of day, 3.11.11.3 | Whilest deadly torments do her chast brest rend, 3.11.11.4 | And the sharpe steele doth riue her hart in tway, 3.11.11.5 | All for she \Scudamore\ will not denay. 3.11.11.6 | Yet thou vile man, vile \Scudamore\ art sound, 3.11.11.7 | Ne canst her ayde, ne canst her foe dismay; 3.11.11.8 | Vnworthy wretch to tread vpon the ground, 3.11.11.9 | For whom so faire a Lady feeles so sore a wound. 3.11.12.1 | There an huge heape of singultes did oppresse 3.11.12.2 | His strugling soule, and swelling throbs empeach 3.11.12.3 | His foltring toung with pangs of drerinesse, 3.11.12.4 | Choking the remnant of his plaintife speach, 3.11.12.5 | As if his dayes were come to their last reach. 3.11.12.6 | Which when she heard, and saw the ghastly fit, 3.11.12.7 | Threatning into his life to make a breach, 3.11.12.8 | Both with great ruth and terrour she was smit, 3.11.12.9 | Fearing least from her cage the wearie soule would flit. 3.11.13.1 | Tho stooping downe she him amoued light; 3.11.13.2 | Who therewith somewhat starting, vp gan looke, 3.11.13.3 | And seeing him behind a straunger knight, 3.11.13.4 | Whereas no liuing creature he mistooke, 3.11.13.5 | With great indignaunce he that sight forsooke, 3.11.13.6 | And downe againe himselfe disdainefully 3.11.13.7 | Abiecting, th'=earth with his faire forhead strooke: 3.11.13.8 | Which the bold Virgin seeing, gan apply 3.11.13.9 | Fit medcine to his griefe, and spake thus courtesly. 3.11.14.1 | Ah gentle knight, whose deepe conceiued griefe 3.11.14.2 | Well seemes t'=exceede the powre of patience, 3.11.14.3 | Yet if that heauenly grace some good reliefe 3.11.14.4 | You send, submit you to high prouidence, 3.11.14.5 | And euer in your noble hart prepense, 3.11.14.6 | That all the sorrow in the world is lesse, 3.11.14.7 | Then vertues might, and values confidence, 3.11.14.8 | For who nill bide the burden of distresse, 3.11.14.9 | Must not here thinke to liue: for life is wretchednesse. 3.11.15.1 | Therefore, faire Sir, do comfort to you take, 3.11.15.2 | And freely read, what wicked felon so 3.11.15.3 | Hath outrag'd you, and thrald your gentle make. 3.11.15.4 | Perhaps this hand may helpe to ease your woe, 3.11.15.5 | And wreake your sorrow on your cruell foe, 3.11.15.6 | At least it faire endeuour will apply. 3.11.15.7 | Those feeling wordes so neare the quicke did goe, 3.11.15.8 | That vp his head he reared easily, 3.11.15.9 | And leaning on his elbow, these few wordes let fly. 3.11.16.1 | What boots it plaine, that cannot be redrest, 3.11.16.2 | And sow vaine sorrow in a fruitlesse eare, 3.11.16.3 | Sith powre of hand, nor skill of learned brest, 3.11.16.4 | Ne worldly price cannot redeeme my deare, 3.11.16.5 | Out of her thraldome and continuall feare? 3.11.16.6 | For he the tyraunt, which her hath in ward 3.11.16.7 | By strong enchauntments and blacke Magicke leare, 3.11.16.8 | Hath in a dungeon deepe her close embard, 3.11.16.9 | And many dreadfull feends hath pointed to her gard. 3.11.17.1 | There he tormenteth her most terribly, 3.11.17.2 | And day and night afflicts with mortall paine, 3.11.17.3 | Because to yield him loue she doth deny, 3.11.17.4 | Once to me yold, not to be yold againe: 3.11.17.5 | But yet by torture he would her constraine 3.11.17.6 | Loue to conceiue in her disdainfull brest; 3.11.17.7 | Till so she do, she must in doole remaine, 3.11.17.8 | Ne may by liuing meanes be thence relest: 3.11.17.9 | What boots it then to plaine, that cannot be redrest? 3.11.18.1 | With this sad hersall of his heauy stresse, 3.11.18.2 | The warlike Damzell was empassiond sore, 3.11.18.3 | And said; Sir knight, your cause is nothing lesse, 3.11.18.4 | Then is your sorrow, certes if not more; 3.11.18.5 | For nothing so much pitty doth implore, 3.11.18.6 | As gentle Ladies helplesse misery. 3.11.18.7 | But yet, if please ye listen to my lore, 3.11.18.8 | I will with proofe of last extremity, 3.11.18.9 | Deliuer her fro thence, or with her for you dy. 3.11.19.1 | Ah gentlest knight aliue, (said \Scudamore\) 3.11.19.2 | What huge heroicke magnanimity 3.11.19.3 | Dwels in thy bounteous brest? what couldst thou more, 3.11.19.4 | If she were thine, and thou as now am I? 3.11.19.5 | O spare thy happy dayes, and them apply 3.11.19.6 | To better boot, but let me dye, that ought; 3.11.19.7 | More is more losse: one is enough to dy. 3.11.19.8 | Life is not lost, (said she) for which is bought 3.11.19.9 | Endlesse renowm, that more then death is to be sought. 3.11.20.1 | Thus she at length perswaded him to rise, 3.11.20.2 | And with her wend, to see what new successe 3.11.20.3 | Mote him befall vpon new enterprise; 3.11.20.4 | His armes, which he had vowed to disprofesse, 3.11.20.5 | She gathered vp and did about him dresse, 3.11.20.6 | And his forwandred steed vnto him got: 3.11.20.7 | So forth they both yfere make their progresse, 3.11.20.8 | And march not past the mountenaunce of a shot, 3.11.20.9 | Till they arriu'd, whereas their purpose they did plot. 3.11.21.1 | There they dismounting, drew their weapons bold 3.11.21.2 | And stoutly came vnto the Castle gate; 3.11.21.3 | Whereas no gate they found, them to withhold, 3.11.21.4 | Nor ward to wait at morne and euening late, 3.11.21.5 | But in the Porch, that did them sore amate, 3.11.21.6 | A flaming fire, ymixt with smouldry smoke, 3.11.21.7 | And stinking Sulphure, that with griesly hate 3.11.21.8 | And dreadfull horrour did all entraunce choke, 3.11.21.9 | Enforced them their forward footing to reuoke. 3.11.22.1 | Greatly thereat was \Britomart\ dismayd, 3.11.22.2 | Ne in that stownd wist, how her selfe to beare; 3.11.22.3 | For daunger vaine it were, to haue assayd 3.11.22.4 | That cruell element, which all things feare, 3.11.22.5 | Ne none can suffer to approchen neare: 3.11.22.6 | And turning backe to \Scudamour\, thus sayd; 3.11.22.7 | What monstrous enmity prouoke we heare, 3.11.22.8 | Foolhardy as th'=Earthes children, the which made 3.11.22.9 | Battell against the Gods? so we a God inuade. 3.11.23.1 | Daunger without discretion to attempt, 3.11.23.2 | Inglorious and beastlike is: therefore Sir knight, 3.11.23.3 | Aread what course of you is safest dempt, 3.11.23.4 | And how we with our foe may come to fight. 3.11.23.5 | This is (quoth he) the dolorous despight, 3.11.23.6 | Which earst to you I playnd: for neither may 3.11.23.7 | This fire be quencht by any wit or might, 3.11.23.8 | Ne yet by any meanes remou'd away, 3.11.23.9 | So mighty be th'=enchauntments, which the same do stay. 3.11.24.1 | What is there else, but cease these fruitlesse paines, 3.11.24.2 | And leaue me to my former languishing? 3.11.24.3 | Faire \Amoret\ must dwell in wicked chaines, 3.11.24.4 | And \Scudamore\ here dye with sorrowing. 3.11.24.5 | Perdy not so; (said she) for shamefull thing 3.11.24.6 | It were t'=abandon noble cheuisaunce, 3.11.24.7 | For shew of perill, without venturing: 3.11.24.8 | Rather let try extremities of chaunce, 3.11.24.9 | Then enterprised prayse for dread to disauaunce. 3.11.25.1 | Therewith resolu'd to proue her vtmost might, 3.11.25.2 | Her ample shield she threw before her face, 3.11.25.3 | And her swords point directing forward right, 3.11.25.4 | Assayld the flame, the which eftsoones gaue place, 3.11.25.5 | And did it selfe diuide with equall space, 3.11.25.6 | That through she passed; as a thunder bolt 3.11.25.7 | Perceth the yielding ayre, and doth displace 3.11.25.8 | The soring clouds into sad showres ymolt; 3.11.25.9 | So to her yold the flames, and did their force reuolt. 3.11.26.1 | Whom whenas \Scudamour\ saw past the fire, 3.11.26.2 | Safe and vntoucht, he likewise gan assay, 3.11.26.3 | With greedy will, and enuious desire, 3.11.26.4 | And bad the stubborne flames to yield him way: 3.11.26.5 | But cruell \Mulciber\ would not obay 3.11.26.6 | His threatfull pride, but did the more augment 3.11.26.7 | His mighty rage, and with imperious sway 3.11.26.8 | Him forst (maulgre) his fiercenesse to relent, 3.11.26.9 | And backe retire, all scorcht and pitifully brent. 3.11.27.1 | With huge impatience he inly swelt, 3.11.27.2 | More for great sorrow, that he could not pas, 3.11.27.3 | Then for the burning torment, which he felt, 3.11.27.4 | That with fell woodnesse he effierced was, 3.11.27.5 | And wilfully him throwing on the gras, 3.11.27.6 | Did beat and bounse his head and brest full sore; 3.11.27.7 | The whiles the Championesse now entred has 3.11.27.8 | The vtmost rowme, and past the formest dore, 3.11.27.9 | The vtmost rowme, abounding with all precious store. 3.11.28.1 | For round about, the wals yclothed were 3.11.28.2 | With goodly arras of great maiesty, 3.11.28.3 | Wouen with gold and silke so close and nere, 3.11.28.4 | That the rich metall lurked priuily, 3.11.28.5 | As faining to be hid from enuious eye; 3.11.28.6 | Yet here, and there, and euery where vnwares 3.11.28.7 | It shewd it selfe, and shone vnwillingly; 3.11.28.8 | Like a discolourd Snake, whose hidden snares 3.11.28.9 | Through the greene gras his long bright burnisht backe declares. 3.11.29.1 | And in those Tapets weren fashioned 3.11.29.2 | Many faire pourtraicts, and many a faire feate, 3.11.29.3 | And all of loue, and all of lusty-hed, 3.11.29.4 | As seemed by their semblaunt did entreat; 3.11.29.5 | And eke all \Cupids\ warres they did repeate, 3.11.29.6 | And cruell battels, which he whilome fought 3.11.29.7 | Gainst all the Gods, to make his empire great; 3.11.29.8 | Besides the huge massacres, which he wrought 3.11.29.9 | On mighty kings and kesars, into thraldome brought. 3.11.30.1 | Therein was writ, how often thundring \Ioue\ 3.11.30.2 | Had felt the point of his hart-percing dart, 3.11.30.3 | And leauing heauens kingdome, here did roue 3.11.30.4 | In straunge disguize, to slake his scalding smart; 3.11.30.5 | Now like a Ram, faire \Helle\ to peruart, 3.11.30.6 | Now like a Bull, \Europa\ to withdraw: 3.11.30.7 | Ah, how the fearefull Ladies tender hart 3.11.30.8 | Did liuely seeme to tremble, wheh she saw 3.11.30.9 | The huge seas vnder her t'=obay her seruaunts law. 3.11.31.1 | Soone after that into a golden showre 3.11.31.2 | Him selfe he chaung'd faire \Danae|\ to vew, 3.11.31.3 | And through the roofe of her strong brasen towre 3.11.31.4 | Did raine into her lap an hony dew, 3.11.31.5 | The whiles her foolish garde, that little knew 3.11.31.6 | Of such deceipt, kept th'=yron dore fast bard, 3.11.31.7 | And watcht, that none should enter nor issew; 3.11.31.8 | Vaine was the watch, and bootlesse all the ward, 3.11.31.9 | Whenas the God to golden hew him selfe transfard. 3.11.32.1 | Then was he turnd into a snowy Swan, 3.11.32.2 | To win faire \Leda\ to his louely trade: 3.11.32.3 | O wondrous skill, and sweet wit of the man, 3.11.32.4 | That her in daffadillies sleeping made, 3.11.32.5 | From scorching heat her daintie limbes to shade: 3.11.32.6 | Whiles the proud Bird ruffing his fethers wyde, 3.11.32.7 | And brushing his faire brest, did her inuade; 3.11.32.8 | She slept, yet twixt her eyelids closely spyde, 3.11.32.9 | How towards her he rusht, and smiled at his pryde. 3.11.33.1 | Then shewd it, how the \Thebane Semelee\ 3.11.33.2 | Deceiu'd of gealous \Iuno\, did require 3.11.33.3 | To see him in his soueraigne maiestee, 3.11.33.4 | Armd with his thunderbolts and lightning fire, 3.11.33.5 | Whence dearely she with death bought her desire. 3.11.33.6 | But faire \Alcmena\ better match did make, 3.11.33.7 | Ioying his loue in likenesse more entire; 3.11.33.8 | Three nights in one, they say, that for her sake 3.11.33.9 | He then did put, her pleasures lenger to partake. 3.11.34.1 | Twise was he seene in soaring Eagles shape, 3.11.34.2 | And with wide wings to beat the buxome ayre, 3.11.34.3 | Once, when he with \Asterie\ did scape, 3.11.34.4 | Againe, when as the \Troiane\ boy so faire 3.11.34.5 | He snatcht from \Ida\ hill, and with him bare: 3.11.34.6 | Wondrous delight it was, there to behould, 3.11.34.7 | How the rude Shepheards after him did stare, 3.11.34.8 | Trembling through feare, least down he fallen should, 3.11.34.9 | And often to him calling, to take surer hould. 3.11.35.1 | In \Satyres\ shape \Antiopa\ he snatcht: 3.11.35.2 | And like a fire, when he \Aegin'\ assayd: 3.11.35.3 | A shepheard, when \Mnemosyne\ he catcht: 3.11.35.4 | And like a Serpent to the \Thracian\ mayd. 3.11.35.5 | Whiles thus on earth great \Ioue\ these pageaunts playd, 3.11.35.6 | The winged boy did thrust into his throne, 3.11.35.7 | And scoffing, thus vnto his mother sayd, 3.11.35.8 | Lo now the heauens obey to me alone, 3.11.35.9 | And take me for their \Ioue\, whiles \Ioue\ to earth is gone. 3.11.36.1 | And thou, faire \Pho+ebus\, in thy colours bright 3.11.36.2 | Wast there enwouen, and the sad distresse, 3.11.36.3 | In which that boy thee plonged, for despight, 3.11.36.4 | That thou bewray'dst his mothers wantonnesse, 3.11.36.5 | When she with \Mars\ was meynt in ioyfulnesse: 3.11.36.6 | For thy he thrild thee with a leaden dart, 3.11.36.7 | To loue faire \Daphne\, which thee loued lesse: 3.11.36.8 | Lesse she thee lou'd, then was thy iust desart, 3.11.36.9 | Yet was thy loue her death, and her death was thy smart. 3.11.37.1 | So louedst thou the lusty \Hyacinct\, 3.11.37.2 | So louedst thou the faire \Coronis\ deare: 3.11.37.3 | Yet both are of thy haplesse hand extinct, 3.11.37.4 | Yet both in flowres do liue, and loue thee beare, 3.11.37.5 | The one a Paunce, the other a sweet breare: 3.11.37.6 | For griefe whereof, ye mote haue liuely seene 3.11.37.7 | The God himselfe rending his golden heare, 3.11.37.8 | And breaking quite his gyrlond euer greene, 3.11.37.9 | With other signes of sorrow and impatient teene. 3.11.38.1 | Both for those two, and for his owne deare sonne, 3.11.38.2 | The sonne of \Climene\ he did repent, 3.11.38.3 | Who bold to guide the charet of the Sunne, 3.11.38.4 | Himselfe in thousand peeces fondly rent, 3.11.38.5 | And all the world with flashing fier brent; 3.11.38.6 | So like, that all the walles did seeme to flame. 3.11.38.7 | Yet cruell \Cupid\, not herewith content, 3.11.38.8 | Forst him eftsoones to follow other game, 3.11.38.9 | And loue a Shepheards daughter for his dearest Dame. 3.11.39.1 | He loued \Isse\ for his dearest Dame, 3.11.39.2 | And for her sake her cattell fed a while, 3.11.39.3 | And for her sake a cowheard vile became, 3.11.39.4 | The seruant of \Admetus\ cowheard vile, 3.11.39.5 | Whiles that from heauen he suffered exile. 3.11.39.6 | Long were to tell each other louely fit, 3.11.39.7 | Now like a Lyon, hunting after spoile, 3.11.39.8 | Now like a Stag, now like a faulcon flit: 3.11.39.9 | All which in that faire arras was most liuely writ. 3.11.40.1 | Next vnto him was \Neptune\ pictured, 3.11.40.2 | In his diuine resemblance wondrous lyke: 3.11.40.3 | His face was rugged, and his hoarie hed 3.11.40.4 | Dropped with brackish deaw; his three-forkt Pyke 3.11.40.5 | He stearnly shooke, and therewith fierce did stryke 3.11.40.6 | The raging billowes, that on euery syde 3.11.40.7 | They trembling stood, and made a long broad dyke, 3.11.40.8 | That his swift charet might haue passage wyde, 3.11.40.9 | Which foure great \Hippodames\ did draw in temewise tyde. 3.11.41.1 | His sea-horses did seeme to snort amayne, 3.11.41.2 | And from their nosethrilles blow the brynie streame, 3.11.41.3 | That made the sparckling waues to smoke agayne, 3.11.41.4 | And flame with gold, but the white fomy creame, 3.11.41.5 | Did shine with siluer, and shoot forth his beame. 3.11.41.6 | The God himselfe did pensiue seeme and sad, 3.11.41.7 | And hong adowne his head, as he did dreame: 3.11.41.8 | For priuy loue his brest empierced had, 3.11.41.9 | Ne ought but deare \Bisaltis\ ay could make him glad. 3.11.42.1 | He loued eke \Iphimedia\ deare, 3.11.42.2 | And \Aeolus\ faire daughter \Arne\ hight, 3.11.42.3 | For whom he turnd him selfe into a Steare, 3.11.42.4 | And fed on fodder, to beguile her sight. 3.11.42.5 | Also to win \Deucalions\ daughter bright, 3.11.42.6 | He turnd him selfe into a Dolphin fayre; 3.11.42.7 | And like a winged horse he tooke his flight, 3.11.42.8 | To snaky-locke \Medusa\ to repayre, 3.11.42.9 | On whom he got faire \Pegasus\, that flitteth in the ayre. 3.11.43.1 | Next \Saturne\ was, (but who would euer weene, 3.11.43.2 | That sullein \Saturne\ euer weend to loue? 3.11.43.3 | Yet loue is sullein, and \Saturnlike\ seene, 3.11.43.4 | As he did for \Erigone\ it proue,) 3.11.43.5 | That to a \Centaure\ did him selfe transmoue. 3.11.43.6 | So proou'd it eke that gracious God of wine, 3.11.43.7 | When for to compasse \Philliras\ hard loue, 3.11.43.8 | He turnd himselfe into a fruitfull vine, 3.11.43.9 | And into her faire bosome made his grapes decline. 3.11.44.1 | Long were to tell the amorous assayes, 3.11.44.2 | And gentle pangues, with which he maked meeke 3.11.44.3 | The mighty \Mars\, to learne his wanton playes: 3.11.44.4 | How oft for \Venus\, and how often eek 3.11.44.5 | For many other Nymphes he sore did shreek, 3.11.44.6 | With womanish teares, and with vnwarlike smarts, 3.11.44.7 | Priuily moystening his horrid cheek. 3.11.44.8 | There was he painted full of burning darts, 3.11.44.9 | And many wide woundes launched through his inner parts. 3.11.45.1 | Ne did he spare (so cruell was the Elfe) 3.11.45.2 | His owne deare mother, (ah why should he so?) 3.11.45.3 | Ne did he spare sometime to pricke himselfe, 3.11.45.4 | That he might tast the sweet consuming woe, 3.11.45.5 | Which he had wrought to many others moe. 3.11.45.6 | But to declare the mournfull Tragedyes, 3.11.45.7 | And spoiles, wherewith he all the ground did strow, 3.11.45.8 | More eath to number, with how many eyes 3.11.45.9 | High heauen beholds sad louers nightly theeueryes. 3.11.46.1 | Kings Queenes, Lords Ladies, Knights and Damzels gent 3.11.46.2 | Were heap'd together with the vulgar sort, 3.11.46.3 | And mingled with the raskall rablement, 3.11.46.4 | Without respect of person or of port, 3.11.46.5 | To shew Dan \Cupids\ powre and great effort: 3.11.46.6 | And round about a border was entrayld, 3.11.46.7 | Of broken bowes and arrowes shiuered short, 3.11.46.8 | And a long bloudy riuer through them rayld, 3.11.46.9 | So liuely and so like, that liuing sence it fayld. 3.11.47.1 | And at the vpper end of that faire rowme, 3.11.47.2 | There was an Altar built of pretious stone, 3.11.47.3 | Of passing valew, and of great renowme, 3.11.47.4 | On which there stood an Image all alone, 3.11.47.5 | Of massy gold, which with his owne light shone; 3.11.47.6 | And wings it had with sundry colours dight, 3.11.47.7 | More sundry colours, then the proud \Pauone\ 3.11.47.8 | Beares in his boasted fan, or \Iris\ bright, 3.11.47.9 | When her discolourd bow she spreds through heauen bright. 3.11.48.1 | Blindfold he was, and in his cruell fist 3.11.48.2 | A mortall bow and arrowes keene did hold, 3.11.48.3 | With which he shot at randon, when him list, 3.11.48.4 | Some headed with sad lead, some with pure gold; 3.11.48.5 | (Ah man beware, how thou those darts behold) 3.11.48.6 | A wounded Dragon vnder him did ly, 3.11.48.7 | Whose hideous tayle his left foot did enfold, 3.11.48.8 | And with a shaft was shot through either eye, 3.11.48.9 | That no man forth might draw, ne no man remedye. 3.11.49.1 | And vnderneath his feet was written thus, 3.11.49.2 | \Vnto the Victor of the Gods this bee:\ 3.11.49.3 | And all the people in that ample hous 3.11.49.4 | Did to that image bow their humble knee, 3.11.49.5 | And oft committed fowle Idolatree. 3.11.49.6 | That wondrous sight faire \Britomart\ amazed, 3.11.49.7 | Ne seeing could her wonder satisfie, 3.11.49.8 | But euermore and more vpon it gazed, 3.11.49.9 | The whiles the passing brightnes her fraile sences dazed. 3.11.50.1 | Tho as she backward cast her busie eye, 3.11.50.2 | To search each secret of that goodly sted, 3.11.50.3 | Ouer the dore thus written she did spye 3.11.50.4 | \Be bold\: she oft and oft it ouer-red, 3.11.50.5 | Yet could not find what sence it figured: 3.11.50.6 | But what so were therein or writ or ment, 3.11.50.7 | She was no whit thereby discouraged 3.11.50.8 | From prosecuting of her first intent, 3.11.50.9 | But forward with bold steps into the next roome went. 3.11.51.1 | Much fairer, then the former, was that roome, 3.11.51.2 | And richlier by many partes arayd: 3.11.51.3 | For not with arras made in painefull loome, 3.11.51.4 | But with pure gold it all was ouerlayd, 3.11.51.5 | Wrought with wilde Antickes, which their follies playd, 3.11.51.6 | In the rich metall, as they liuing were: 3.11.51.7 | A thousand monstrous formes therein were made, 3.11.51.8 | Such as false loue doth oft vpon him weare, 3.11.51.9 | For loue in thousand monstrous formes doth oft appeare. 3.11.52.1 | And all about, the glistring walles were hong 3.11.52.2 | With warlike spoiles, and with victorious prayes, 3.11.52.3 | Of mighty Conquerours and Captaines strong, 3.11.52.4 | Which were whilome captiued in their dayes 3.11.52.5 | To cruell loue, and wrought their owne decayes: 3.11.52.6 | Their swerds and speres were broke, and hauberques rent; 3.11.52.7 | And their proud girlonds of tryumphant bayes 3.11.52.8 | Troden in dust with fury insolent, 3.11.52.9 | To shew the victors might and mercilesse intent. 3.11.53.1 | The warlike Mayde beholding earnestly 3.11.53.2 | The goodly ordinance of this rich place, 3.11.53.3 | Did greatly wonder, ne could satisfie 3.11.53.4 | Her greedy eyes with gazing a long space, 3.11.53.5 | But more she meruaild that no footings trace, 3.11.53.6 | Nor wight appear'd, but wastefull emptinesse, 3.11.53.7 | And solemne silence ouer all that place: 3.11.53.8 | Straunge thing it seem'd, that none was to possesse 3.11.53.9 | So rich purueyance, ne them keepe with carefulnesse. 3.11.54.1 | And as she lookt about, she did behold, 3.11.54.2 | How ouer that same dore was likewise writ, 3.11.54.3 | \Be bold\, \be bold\, and euery where \Be bold\, 3.11.54.4 | That much she muz'd, yet could not construe it 3.11.54.5 | By any ridling skill, or commune wit. 3.11.54.6 | At last she spyde at that roomes vpper end, 3.11.54.7 | Another yron dore, on which was writ, 3.11.54.8 | \Be not too bold\; whereto though she did bend 3.11.54.9 | Her earnest mind, yet wist not what it might intend. 3.11.55.1 | Thus she there waited vntill euentyde, 3.11.55.2 | Yet liuing creature none she saw appeare: 3.11.55.3 | And now sad shadowes gan the world to hyde, 3.11.55.4 | From mortall vew, and wrap in darkenesse dreare; 3.11.55.5 | Yet nould she d'=off her weary armes, for feare 3.11.55.6 | Of secret daunger, ne let sleepe oppresse 3.11.55.7 | Her heauy eyes with natures burdein deare, 3.11.55.8 | But drew her selfe aside in sickernesse, 3.11.55.9 | And her welpointed weapons did about her dresse. 3.12. A.1 | \The maske of Cupid, and th'=enchaunted\ 3.12. A.2 | \Chamber are displayd.\ 3.12. A.3 | \Whence Britomart redeemes faire\ 3.12. A.4 | \Amoret, through charmes decayd.\ 3.12. 1.1 | Tho when as chearelesse Night ycouered had 3.12. 1.2 | Faire heauen with an vniuersall cloud, 3.12. 1.3 | That euery wight dismayd with darknesse sad, 3.12. 1.4 | In silence and in sleepe themselues did shroud, 3.12. 1.5 | She heard a shrilling Trompet sound aloud, 3.12. 1.6 | Signe of nigh battell, or got victory; 3.12. 1.7 | Nought therewith daunted was her courage proud, 3.12. 1.8 | But rather stird to cruell enmity, 3.12. 1.9 | Expecting euer, when some foe she might descry. 3.12. 2.1 | With that, an hideous storme of winde arose, 3.12. 2.2 | With dreadfull thunder and lightning atwixt, 3.12. 2.3 | And an earth-quake, as if it streight would lose 3.12. 2.4 | The worlds foundations from his centre fixt; 3.12. 2.5 | A direfull stench of smoke and sulphure mixt 3.12. 2.6 | Ensewd, whose noyance fild the fearefull sted, 3.12. 2.7 | From the fourth houre of night vntill the sixt; 3.12. 2.8 | Yet the bold \Britonesse\ was nought ydred, 3.12. 2.9 | Though much emmou'd, but stedfast still perseuered. 3.12. 3.1 | All suddenly a stormy whirlwind blew 3.12. 3.2 | Throughout the house, that clapped euery dore, 3.12. 3.3 | With which that yron wicket open flew, 3.12. 3.4 | As it with mightie leuers had bene tore: 3.12. 3.5 | And forth issewd, as on the ready flore 3.12. 3.6 | Of some Theatre, a graue personage, 3.12. 3.7 | That in his hand a branch of laurell bore, 3.12. 3.8 | With comely haueour and count'nance sage, 3.12. 3.9 | Yclad in costly garments, fit for tragicke Stage. 3.12. 4.1 | Proceeding to the midst, he still did stand, 3.12. 4.2 | As if in mind he somewhat had to say, 3.12. 4.3 | And to the vulgar beckning with his hand, 3.12. 4.4 | In signe of silence, as to heare a play, 3.12. 4.5 | By liuely actions he gan bewray 3.12. 4.6 | Some argument of matter passioned; 3.12. 4.7 | Which doen, he backe retyred soft away, 3.12. 4.8 | And passing by, his name discouered, 3.12. 4.9 | \Ease\, on his robe in golden letters cyphered. 3.12. 5.1 | The noble Mayd, still standing all this vewd, 3.12. 5.2 | And merueild at his strange intendiment; 3.12. 5.3 | With that a ioyous fellowship issewd 3.12. 5.4 | Of Minstrals, making goodly meriment, 3.12. 5.5 | With wanton Bardes, and Rymers impudent, 3.12. 5.6 | All which together sung full chearefully 3.12. 5.7 | A lay of loues delight, with sweet concent: 3.12. 5.8 | After whom marcht a iolly company, 3.12. 5.9 | In manner of a maske, enranged orderly. 3.12. 6.1 | The whiles a most delitious harmony, 3.12. 6.2 | In full straunge notes was sweetly heard to sound, 3.12. 6.3 | That the rare sweetnesse of the melody 3.12. 6.4 | The feeble senses wholly did confound, 3.12. 6.5 | And the fraile soule in deepe delight nigh dround: 3.12. 6.6 | And when it ceast, shrill trompets loud did bray, 3.12. 6.7 | That their report did farre away rebound, 3.12. 6.8 | And when they ceast, it gan againe to play, 3.12. 6.9 | The whiles the maskers marched forth in trim aray. 3.12. 7.1 | The first was \Fancy\, like a louely boy, 3.12. 7.2 | Of rare aspect, and beautie without peare; 3.12. 7.3 | Matchable either to that ympe of \Troy\, 3.12. 7.4 | Whom \Ioue\ did loue, and chose his cup to beare, 3.12. 7.5 | Or that same daintie lad, which was so deare 3.12. 7.6 | To great \Alcides\, that when as he dyde, 3.12. 7.7 | He wailed womanlike with many a teare, 3.12. 7.8 | And euery wood, and euery valley wyde 3.12. 7.9 | He fild with \Hylas\ name; the Nymphes eke \Hylas\ cryde. 3.12. 8.1 | His garment neither was of silke nor say, 3.12. 8.2 | But painted plumes, in goodly order dight, 3.12. 8.3 | Like as the sunburnt \Indians\ do aray 3.12. 8.4 | Their tawney bodies, in their proudest plight: 3.12. 8.5 | As those same plumes, so seemd he vaine and light, 3.12. 8.6 | That by his gate might easily appeare; 3.12. 8.7 | For still he far'd as dauncing in delight, 3.12. 8.8 | And in his hand a windy fan did beare, 3.12. 8.9 | That in the idle aire he mou'd still here and there. 3.12. 9.1 | And him beside marcht amorous \Desyre\, 3.12. 9.2 | Who seemd of riper yeares, then th'=other Swaine, 3.12. 9.3 | Yet was that other swayne this elders syre, 3.12. 9.4 | And gaue him being, commune to them twaine: 3.12. 9.5 | His garment was disguised very vaine, 3.12. 9.6 | And his embrodered Bonet sat awry; 3.12. 9.7 | Twixt both his hands few sparkes he close did straine, 3.12. 9.8 | Which still he blew, and kindled busily, 3.12. 9.9 | That soone they life conceiu'd, and forth in flames did fly. 3.12.10.1 | Next after him went \Doubt\, who was yclad 3.12.10.2 | In a discolour'd cote, of straunge disguyse, 3.12.10.3 | That at his backe a brode Capuccio had, 3.12.10.4 | And sleeues dependant \Albanese\-wyse: 3.12.10.5 | He lookt askew with his mistrustfull eyes, 3.12.10.6 | And nicely trode, as thornes lay in his way, 3.12.10.7 | Or that the flore to shrinke he did auyse, 3.12.10.8 | And on a broken reed he still did stay 3.12.10.9 | His feeble steps, which shrunke, when hard theron he lay. 3.12.11.1 | With him went \Daunger\, cloth'd in ragged weed, 3.12.11.2 | Made of Beares skin, that him more dreadfull made, 3.12.11.3 | Yet his owne face was dreadfull, ne did need 3.12.11.4 | Straunge horrour, to deforme his griesly shade; 3.12.11.5 | A net in th'=one hand, and a rustie blade 3.12.11.6 | In th'=other was, this Mischiefe, that Mishap; 3.12.11.7 | With th'=one his foes he threatned to inuade, 3.12.11.8 | With th'=other he his friends ment to enwrap: 3.12.11.9 | For whom he could not kill, he practizd to entrap. 3.12.12.1 | Next him was \Feare\, all arm'd from top to toe, 3.12.12.2 | Yet thought himselfe not safe enough thereby, 3.12.12.3 | But feard each shadow mouing to and fro, 3.12.12.4 | And his owne armes when glittering he did spy, 3.12.12.5 | Or clashing heard, he fast away did fly, 3.12.12.6 | As ashes pale of hew, and wingyheeld; 3.12.12.7 | And euermore on daunger fixt his eye, 3.12.12.8 | Gainst whom he alwaies bent a brasen shield, 3.12.12.9 | Which his right hand vnarmed fearefully did wield. 3.12.13.1 | With him went \Hope\ in rancke, a handsome Mayd, 3.12.13.2 | Of chearefull looke and louely to behold; 3.12.13.3 | In silken samite she was light arayd, 3.12.13.4 | And her faire lockes were wouen vp in gold; 3.12.13.5 | She alway smyld, and in her hand did hold 3.12.13.6 | An holy water Sprinckle, dipt in deowe, 3.12.13.7 | With which she sprinckled fauours manifold, 3.12.13.8 | On whom she list, and did great liking sheowe, 3.12.13.9 | Great liking vnto many, but true loue to feowe. 3.12.14.1 | And after them \Dissemblance\, and \Suspect\ 3.12.14.2 | Marcht in one rancke, yet an vnequall paire: 3.12.14.3 | For she was gentle, and of milde aspect, 3.12.14.4 | Courteous to all, and seeming debonaire, 3.12.14.5 | Goodly adorned, and exceeding faire: 3.12.14.6 | Yet was that all but painted, and purloynd, 3.12.14.7 | And her bright browes were deckt with borrowed haire: 3.12.14.8 | Her deedes were forged, and her words false coynd, 3.12.14.9 | And alwaies in her hand two clewes of silke she twynd. 3.12.15.1 | But he was foule, ill fauoured, and grim, 3.12.15.2 | Vnder his eyebrowes looking still askaunce; 3.12.15.3 | And euer as \Dissemblance\ laught on him, 3.12.15.4 | He lowrd on her with daungerous eyeglaunce; 3.12.15.5 | Shewing his nature in his countenance; 3.12.15.6 | His rolling eyes did neuer rest in place, 3.12.15.7 | But walkt each where, for feare of hid mischaunce, 3.12.15.8 | Holding a lattice still before his face, 3.12.15.9 | Through which he still did peepe, as forward he did pace. 3.12.16.1 | Next him went \Griefe\, and \Fury\ matcht yfere; 3.12.16.2 | \Griefe\ all in sable sorrowfully clad, 3.12.16.3 | Downe hanging his dull head, with heauy chere, 3.12.16.4 | Yet inly being more, then seeming sad: 3.12.16.5 | A paire of Pincers in his hand he had, 3.12.16.6 | With which he pinched people to the hart, 3.12.16.7 | That from thenceforth a wretched life they lad, 3.12.16.8 | In wilfull languor and consuming smart, 3.12.16.9 | Dying each day with inward wounds of dolours dart. 3.12.17.1 | But \Fury\ was full ill appareiled 3.12.17.2 | In rags, that naked nigh she did appeare, 3.12.17.3 | With ghastly lookes and dreadfull drerihed; 3.12.17.4 | For from her backe her garments she did teare, 3.12.17.5 | And from her head oft rent her snarled heare: 3.12.17.6 | In her right hand a firebrand she did tosse 3.12.17.7 | About her head, still roming here and there; 3.12.17.8 | As a dismayed Deare in chace embost, 3.12.17.9 | Forgetfull of his safety, hath his right way lost. 3.12.18.1 | After them went \Displeasure\ and \Pleasance\, 3.12.18.2 | He looking lompish and full sullein sad, 3.12.18.3 | And hanging downe his heauy countenance; 3.12.18.4 | She chearefull fresh and full of ioyance glad, 3.12.18.5 | As if no sorrow she ne felt ne drad; 3.12.18.6 | That euill matched paire they seemd to bee: 3.12.18.7 | An angry Waspe th'=one in a viall had 3.12.18.8 | Th'=other in hers an hony-lady Bee; 3.12.18.9 | Thus marched these sixe couples forth in faire degree. 3.12.19.1 | After all these there marcht a most faire Dame, 3.12.19.2 | Led of two grysie villeins, th'=one \Despight\, 3.12.19.3 | The other cleped \Cruelty\ by name: 3.12.19.4 | She dolefull Lady, like a dreary Spright, 3.12.19.5 | Cald by strong charmes out of eternall night, 3.12.19.6 | Had deathes owne image figurd in her face, 3.12.19.7 | Full of sad signes, fearefull to liuing sight; 3.12.19.8 | Yet in that horror shewd a seemely grace, 3.12.19.9 | And with her feeble feet did moue a comely pace. 3.12.20.1 | Her brest all naked, as net iuory, 3.12.20.2 | Without adorne of gold or siluer bright, 3.12.20.3 | Wherewith the Craftesman wonts it beautify, 3.12.20.4 | Of her dew honour was despoyled quight, 3.12.20.5 | And a wide wound therein (O ruefull sight) 3.12.20.6 | Entrenched deepe with knife accursed keene, 3.12.20.7 | Yet freshly bleeding forth her fainting spright, 3.12.20.8 | (The worke of cruell hand) was to be seene, 3.12.20.9 | That dyde in sanguine red her skin all snowy cleene. 3.12.21.1 | At that wide orifice her trembling hart 3.12.21.2 | Was drawne forth, and in siluer basin layd, 3.12.21.3 | Quite through transfixed with a deadly dart, 3.12.21.4 | And in her bloud yet steeming fresh embayd: 3.12.21.5 | And those two villeins, which her steps vpstayd, 3.12.21.6 | When her weake feete could scarcely her sustaine, 3.12.21.7 | And fading vitall powers gan to fade, 3.12.21.8 | Her forward still with torture did constraine, 3.12.21.9 | And euermore encreased her consuming paine. 3.12.22.1 | Next after her the winged God himselfe 3.12.22.2 | Came riding on a Lion rauenous, 3.12.22.3 | Taught to obay the menage of that Elfe, 3.12.22.4 | That man and beast with powre imperious 3.12.22.5 | Subdeweth to his kingdome tyrannous: 3.12.22.6 | His blindfold eyes he bad a while vnbind, 3.12.22.7 | That his proud spoyle of that same dolorous 3.12.22.8 | Faire Dame he might behold in perfect kind; 3.12.22.9 | Which seene, he much reioyced in his cruell mind. 3.12.23.1 | Of which full proud, himselfe vp rearing hye, 3.12.23.2 | He looked round about with sterne disdaine; 3.12.23.3 | And did suruay his goodly company: 3.12.23.4 | And marshalling the euill ordered traine, 3.12.23.5 | With that the darts which his right hand did straine, 3.12.23.6 | Full dreadfully he shooke that all did quake, 3.12.23.7 | And clapt on hie his coulourd winges twaine, 3.12.23.8 | That all his many it affraide did make: 3.12.23.9 | Tho blinding him againe, his way he forth did take. 3.12.24.1 | Behinde him was \Reproch\, \Repentance\, \Shame\; 3.12.24.2 | \Reproch\ the first, \Shame\ next, \Repent\ behind: 3.12.24.3 | \Repentance\ feeble, sorrowfull, and lame: 3.12.24.4 | \Reproch\ despightfull, carelesse, and vnkind; 3.12.24.5 | \Shame\ most ill fauourd, bestiall, and blind: 3.12.24.6 | \Shame\ lowrd, \Repentance\ sigh'd, \Reproch\ did scould; 3.12.24.7 | \Reproch\ sharpe stings, \Repentance\ whips entwind, 3.12.24.8 | \Shame\ burning brond-yrons in her hand did hold: 3.12.24.9 | All three to each vnlike, yet all made in one mould. 3.12.25.1 | And after them a rude confused rout 3.12.25.2 | Of persons flockt, whose names is hard to read: 3.12.25.3 | Emongst them was sterne \Strife\, and \Anger\ stout, 3.12.25.4 | Vnquiet \Care\, and fond \Vnthriftihead\, 3.12.25.5 | Lewd \Losse of Time\, and \Sorrow\ seeming dead, 3.12.25.6 | Inconstant \Chaunge\, and false \Disloyaltie\, 3.12.25.7 | Consuming \Riotise\, and guilty \Dread\ 3.12.25.8 | Of heauenly vengeance, faint \Infirmitie\, 3.12.25.9 | Vile \Pouertie\, and lastly \Death\ with infamie. 3.12.26.1 | There were full many moe like maladies, 3.12.26.2 | Whose names and natures I note readen well; 3.12.26.3 | So many moe, as there be phantasies 3.12.26.4 | In wauering wemens wit, that none can tell, 3.12.26.5 | Or paines in loue, or punishments in hell; 3.12.26.6 | All which disguized marcht in masking wise, 3.12.26.7 | About the chamber with that Damozell, 3.12.26.8 | And then returned, hauing marched thrise, 3.12.26.9 | Into the inner roome, from whence they first did rise. 3.12.27.1 | So soone as they were in, the dore streight way 3.12.27.2 | Fast locked, driuen with that stormy blast, 3.12.27.3 | Which first it opened; and bore all away. 3.12.27.4 | Then the braue Maid, which all this while was plast 3.12.27.5 | In secret shade, and saw both first and last, 3.12.27.6 | Issewed forth, and went vnto the dore, 3.12.27.7 | To enter in, but found it locked fast: 3.12.27.8 | It vaine she thought with rigorous vprore 3.12.27.9 | For to efforce, when charmes had closed it afore. 3.12.28.1 | Where force might not auaile, there sleights and art 3.12.28.2 | She cast to vse, both fit for hard emprize; 3.12.28.3 | For thy from that same roome not to depart 3.12.28.4 | Till morrow next, she did her selfe auize, 3.12.28.5 | When that same Maske againe should forth arize. 3.12.28.6 | The morrow next appeard with ioyous cheare, 3.12.28.7 | Calling men to their daily exercize, 3.12.28.8 | Then she, as morrow fresh, her selfe did reare 3.12.28.9 | Out of her secret stand, that day for to out weare. 3.12.29.1 | All that day she outwore in wandering, 3.12.29.2 | And gazing on that Chambers ornament, 3.12.29.3 | Till that againe the second euening 3.12.29.4 | Her couered with her sable vestiment, 3.12.29.5 | Wherewith the worlds faire beautie she hath blent: 3.12.29.6 | Then when the second watch was almost past, 3.12.29.7 | That brasen dore flew open, and in went 3.12.29.8 | Bold \Britomart\, as she had late forecast, 3.12.29.9 | Neither of idle shewes, nor of false charmes aghast. 3.12.30.1 | So soone as she was entred, round about 3.12.30.2 | She cast her eies, to see what was become 3.12.30.3 | Of all those persons, which she saw without: 3.12.30.4 | But lo, they streight were vanisht all and some, 3.12.30.5 | Ne liuing wight she saw in all that roome, 3.12.30.6 | Saue that same woefull Ladie, both whose hands 3.12.30.7 | Were bounden fast, that did her ill become, 3.12.30.8 | And her small wast girt round with yron bands, 3.12.30.9 | Vnto a brasen pillour, by the which she stands. 3.12.31.1 | And her before the vile Enchaunter sate, 3.12.31.2 | Figuring straunge characters of his art, 3.12.31.3 | With liuing bloud he those characters wrate, 3.12.31.4 | Dreadfully dropping from her dying hart, 3.12.31.5 | Seeming transfixed with a cruell dart, 3.12.31.6 | And all perforce to make her him to loue. 3.12.31.7 | Ah who can loue the worker of her smart? 3.12.31.8 | A thousand charmes he formerly did proue; 3.12.31.9 | Yet thousand charmes could not her stedfast heart remoue. 3.12.32.1 | Soone as that virgin knight he saw in place, 3.12.32.2 | His wicked bookes in hast he ouerthrew, 3.12.32.3 | Not caring his long labours to deface, 3.12.32.4 | And fiercely ronning to that Lady trew, 3.12.32.5 | A murdrous knife out of his pocket drew, 3.12.32.6 | The which he thought, for villeinous despight, 3.12.32.7 | In her tormented bodie to embrew: 3.12.32.8 | But the stout Damzell to him leaping light, 3.12.32.9 | His cursed hand withheld, and maistered his might. 3.12.33.1 | From her, to whom his fury first he ment, 3.12.33.2 | The wicked weapon rashly he did wrest, 3.12.33.3 | And turning to her selfe his fell intent, 3.12.33.4 | Vnwares it strooke into her snowie chest, 3.12.33.5 | That little drops empurpled her faire brest. 3.12.33.6 | Exceeding wroth therewith the virgin grew, 3.12.33.7 | Albe the wound were nothing deepe imprest, 3.12.33.8 | And fiercely forth her mortall blade she drew, 3.12.33.9 | To giue him the reward for such vile outrage dew. 3.12.34.1 | So mightily she smote him, that to ground 3.12.34.2 | He fell halfe dead; next stroke him should haue slaine, 3.12.34.3 | Had not the Lady, which by him stood bound, 3.12.34.4 | Dernely vnto her called to abstaine, 3.12.34.5 | From doing him to dy. For else her paine 3.12.34.6 | Should be remedilesse, sith none but hee, 3.12.34.7 | Which wrought it, could the same recure againe. 3.12.34.8 | Therewith she stayd her hand, loth stayd to bee; 3.12.34.9 | For life she him enuyde, and long'd reuenge to see. 3.12.35.1 | And to him said, Thou wicked man, whose meed 3.12.35.2 | For so huge mischiefe, and vile villany 3.12.35.3 | Is death, or if that ought do death exceed, 3.12.35.4 | Be sure, that nought may saue thee from to dy, 3.12.35.5 | But if that thou this Dame doe presently 3.12.35.6 | Restore vnto her health, and former state; 3.12.35.7 | This doe and liue, else die vndoubtedly. 3.12.35.8 | He glad of life, that lookt for death but late, 3.12.35.9 | Did yield himselfe right willing to prolong his date. 3.12.36.1 | And rising vp, gan streight to ouerlooke 3.12.36.2 | Those cursed leaues, his charmes backe to reuerse; 3.12.36.3 | Full dreadfull things out of that balefull booke 3.12.36.4 | He red, and measur'd many a sad verse, 3.12.36.5 | That horror gan the virgins hart to perse, 3.12.36.6 | And her faire locks vp stared stiffe on end, 3.12.36.7 | Hearing him those same bloudy lines reherse; 3.12.36.8 | And all the while he red, she did extend 3.12.36.9 | Her sword high ouer him, if ought he did offend. 3.12.37.1 | Anon she gan perceiue the house to quake, 3.12.37.2 | And all the dores to rattle round about; 3.12.37.3 | Yet all that did not her dismaied make, 3.12.37.4 | Nor slacke her threatfull hand for daungers dout, 3.12.37.5 | But still with stedfast eye and courage stout 3.12.37.6 | Abode, to weet what end would come of all. 3.12.37.7 | At last that mightie chaine, which round about 3.12.37.8 | Her tender waste was wound, adowne gan fall, 3.12.37.9 | And that great brasen pillour broke in peeces small. 3.12.38.1 | The cruell steele, which thrild her dying hart, 3.12.38.2 | Fell softly forth, as of his owne accord, 3.12.38.3 | And the wyde wound, which lately did dispart 3.12.38.4 | Her bleeding brest, and riuen bowels gor'd, 3.12.38.5 | Was closed vp, as it had not bene bor'd, 3.12.38.6 | And euery part to safety full sound, 3.12.38.7 | As she were neuer hurt, was soone restor'd: 3.12.38.8 | Tho when she felt her selfe to be vnbound, 3.12.38.9 | And perfect hole, prostrate she fell vnto the ground. 3.12.39.1 | Before faire \Britomart\, she fell prostrate, 3.12.39.2 | Saying, Ah noble knight, what worthy meed 3.12.39.3 | Can wretched Lady, quit from wofull state, 3.12.39.4 | Yield you in liew of this your gratious deed? 3.12.39.5 | Your vertue selfe her owne reward shall breed, 3.12.39.6 | Euen immortall praise, and glory wyde, 3.12.39.7 | Which I your vassall, by your prowesse freed, 3.12.39.8 | Shall through the world make to be notifyde, 3.12.39.9 | And goodly well aduance, that goodly well was tryde. 3.12.40.1 | But \Britomart\ vprearing her from ground, 3.12.40.2 | Said, Gentle Dame, reward enough I weene 3.12.40.3 | For many labours more, then I haue found, 3.12.40.4 | This, that in safety now I haue you seene, 3.12.40.5 | And meane of your deliuerance haue beene: 3.12.40.6 | Henceforth faire Lady comfort to you take, 3.12.40.7 | And put away remembrance of late teene; 3.12.40.8 | In stead thereof know, that your louing Make, 3.12.40.9 | Hath no lesse griefe endured for your gentle sake. 3.12.41.1 | She much was cheard to heare him mentiond, 3.12.41.2 | Whom of all liuing wights she loued best. 3.12.41.3 | Then laid the noble Championesse strong hond 3.12.41.4 | Vpon th'=enchaunter, which had her distrest 3.12.41.5 | So sore, and with foule outrages opprest: 3.12.41.6 | With that great chaine, wherewith not long ygo 3.12.41.7 | He bound that pitteous Lady prisoner, now relest, 3.12.41.8 | Himselfe she bound, more worthy to be so, 3.12.41.9 | And captiue with her led to wretchednesse and wo. 3.12.42.1 | Returning backe, those goodly roomes, which erst 3.12.42.2 | She saw so rich and royally arayd, 3.12.42.3 | Now vanisht vtterly, and cleane subuerst 3.12.42.4 | She found, and all their glory quite decayd, 3.12.42.5 | That sight of such a chaunge her much dismayd. 3.12.42.6 | Thence forth descending to that perlous Porch, 3.12.42.7 | Those dreadfull flames she also found delayd, 3.12.42.8 | And quenched quite, like a consumed torch, 3.12.42.9 | That erst all entrers wont so cruelly to scorch. 3.12.43.1 | More easie issew now, then entrance late 3.12.43.2 | She found: for now that fained dreadfull flame, 3.12.43.3 | Which chokt the porch of that enchaunted gate, 3.12.43.4 | And passage bard to all, that thither came, 3.12.43.5 | Was vanisht quite, as it were not the same, 3.12.43.6 | And gaue her leaue at pleasure forth to passe. 3.12.43.7 | Th'=Enchaunter selfe, which all that fraud did frame, 3.12.43.8 | To haue efforst the loue of that faire lasse, 3.12.43.9 | Seeing his worke now wasted deepe engrieued was. 3.12.44.1 | But when the victoresse arriued there, 3.12.44.2 | Where late she left the pensife \Scudamore\, 3.12.44.3 | With her owne trusty Squire, both full of feare, 3.12.44.4 | Neither of them she found where she them lore: 3.12.44.5 | Thereat her noble hart was stonisht sore; 3.12.44.6 | But most faire \Amoret\, whose gentle spright 3.12.44.7 | Now gan to feede on hope, which she before 3.12.44.8 | Conceiued had, to see her owne dear knight, 3.12.44.9 | Being thereof beguyld was fild with new affright. 3.12.45.1 | But he sad man, when he had long in drede 3.12.45.2 | Awayted there for \Britomarts\ returne, 3.12.45.3 | Yet saw her not nor signe of her good speed, 3.12.45.4 | His expectation to despaire did turne, 3.12.45.5 | Misdeeming sure that her those flames did burne; 3.12.45.6 | And therefore gan aduize with her old Squire, 3.12.45.7 | Who her deare nourslings losse no lesse did mourne, 3.12.45.8 | Thence to depart for further aide t'=enquire: 3.12.45.9 | Where let them wend at will, whilest here I doe respire. 3.12.43.1a| At last she came vnto the place, where late 3.12.43.2a| She left Sir \Scudamour\ in great distresse, 3.12.43.3a| Twixt dolour and despight halfe desperate, 3.12.43.4a| Of his loues succour, of his owne redresse, 3.12.43.5a| And of the hardie \Britomarts\ successe: 3.12.43.6a| There on the cold earth him now thrown she found, 3.12.43.7a| In wilfull anguish, and dead heauinesse, 3.12.43.8a| And to him cald; whose voices knowen sound 3.12.43.9a| Soone as he heard, himself he reared light from ground. 3.12.44.1a| There did he see, that most on earth him ioyd, 3.12.44.2a| His dearest loue, the comfort of his dayes, 3.12.44.3a| Whose too long absence him had sore annoyd, 3.12.44.4a| And wearied his life with dull delayes: 3.12.44.5a| Straight he vpstarted from the loathed layes, 3.12.44.6a| And to her ran with hasty egernesse, 3.12.44.7a| Like as a Deare, that greedily embayes 3.12.44.8a| In the coole soile, after long thirstinesse, 3.12.44.9a| Which he in chace endured hath, now nigh breathlesse. 3.12.45.1a| Lightly he clipt her twixt his armes twaine, 3.12.45.2a| And streightly did embrace her body bright, 3.12.45.3a| Her body, late the prison of sad paine, 3.12.45.4a| Now the sweet lodge of loue and deare delight: 3.12.45.5a| But she faire Lady ouercommen quight 3.12.45.6a| Of huge affection, did in pleasure melt, 3.12.45.7a| And in sweete rauishment pourd out her spright: 3.12.45.8a| No word they spake, nor earthly thing they felt, 3.12.45.9a| But like two senceles stocks in long embracement dwelt. 3.12.46.1 | Had ye them seene, ye would haue surely thought, 3.12.46.2 | That they had beene that faire \Hermaphrodite\, 3.12.46.3 | Which that rich \Romane\ of white marble wrought, 3.12.46.4 | And in his costly Bath causd to bee site: 3.12.46.5 | So seemd those two, as growne together quite, 3.12.46.6 | That \Britomart\ halfe enuying their blesse, 3.12.46.7 | Was much empassiond in her gentle sprite, 3.12.46.8 | And to her selfe oft wisht like happinesse, 3.12.46.9 | In vaine she wisht, that fate n'=ould let her yet possesse. 3.12.47.1 | Thus doe those louers with sweet counteruayle, 3.12.47.2 | Each other of loues bitter fruit despoile. 3.12.47.3 | But now my teme begins to faint and fayle, 3.12.47.4 | All woxen weary of their iournall toyle: 3.12.47.5 | Therefore I will their sweatie yokes assoyle 3.12.47.6 | At this same furrowes end, till a new day: 3.12.47.7 | And ye faire Swayns, after your long turmoyle, 3.12.47.8 | Now cease your worke, and at your pleasure play; 3.12.47.9 | Now cease your worke; to morrow is an holy day. |* THE SECOND |* PART OF THE |* FAERIE QVEENE. |* \Containing\ |* THE FOVRTH, |* FIFTH, AND |* SIXTH BOOKES. |* \By Ed. Spenser.\ |* Imprinted at London for VVilliam |* Ponsonby. 1596.