THE FAERIE QVEENE.
Disposed into twelue books, Fashioning XII. Morall vertues.
LONDON
Printed for William Ponsonbie.
1590.
TO THE MOST MIGHTIE AND MAGNIFICENT EMPRESSE ELIZABETH, BY THE GRACE OF GOD QVEENE OF ENGLAND, FRANCE AND IRELAND DEFENDER OF THE FAITH &c.
Her most humble Seruant: Ed. Spenser.
The first Booke of the Faerie Queene. Contayning The Legend of the Knight of the Red Crosse, OR Of Holinesse.
LOI the man, whose Muse whylome did maske,
As time her taught, in lowly Shephards weeds,
Am now enforst a farre vnfitter taske,
For trumpets sterne to chaunge mine Oaten reeds:
And sing of Knights and Ladies gentle deeds,
Whose praises hauing slept in silence long,
Me, all too meane, the sacred Muse areeds
To blazon broade emongst her learned throng:
Fierce warres and faithfull loues shall moralize my song.
Helpe then, O holy virgin chiefe of nyne,
Thy weaker Nouice to performe thy will,
Lay forth out of thine euerlasting scryne
The antique rolles, which there lye hidden still,
[Page 2]Of Faerie knights and fayrest Tanaquill,
Whom that most noble Briton Prince so long
Sought through the world, and suffered so much ill,
That I must rue his vndeserued wrong:
O helpe thou my weake wit, and sharpen my dull tong.
And thou most dreaded impe of highest Ioue,
Faire Venus sonne, that with thy cruell dart
At that good knight so cunningly didst roue,
That glorious fire it kindled in his hart,
Lay now thy deadly Heben bowe apart,
And with thy mother mylde come to mine ayde:
Come both, and with you bring triumphant Murt,
In loues and gentle iollities arraid,
After his murdrous spoyles and bloudie rage allayd.
And with them eke, O Goddesse heauenly bright,
Mirrour of grace and Maiestie diuine,
Great Ladie of the greatest Isle, whose light
Like Phoebus lampe throughout the world doth shine,
Shed thy faire beames into mine feeble eyne,
And raise my thoughtes too humble and too vile,
To thinke of that true glorious type of thine,
The argument of mine afflicted stile:
The which to heare, vouchsafe, O dearest dread a while.
Canto I.
The Patrone of true Holinesse,
Foule Errour doth defeate:
Hypocrisie him to entrappe,
Doth to his home entreate.
A Gentle Knight was pricking on the plaine,
Ycladd in mightie armes and siluer shielde,
Wherein old dints of deepe woundes did remaine,
The cruell markes of many' a bloody fielde;
Yet armes till that time did he neuer wield:
His angry steede did chide his foming bitt,
As much disdayning to the curbe to yield:
Full iolly knight he seemd, and faire did sitt,
As one for knightly giusts and fierce encounters fitt.
And on his brest a bloodie Crosse he bore,
The deare remembrance of his dying Lord,
For whose sweete sake that glorious badge he wore,
And dead as liuing euer him ador'd:
Vpon his shield the like was also scor'd,
For soueraine hope, which in his helpe he had:
Right faithfull true he was in deede and word,
But of his cheere did seeme too solemne sad;
Yet nothing did he dread, but euer was ydrad.
Vpon a great aduenture he was bond,
That greatest Gloriana to him gaue,
That greatest Glorious Queene of Faery lond,
To winne him worshippe, and her grace to haue,
[Page 4]Which of all earthly thinges he most did craue;
And euer as [...] rode his hart did earne,
To proue his puissance in battell braue
Vpon his foe, and his new force to learne;
Vpon his foe, a Dragon horrible and stearne.
A louely Ladie rode him faire beside,
Vpon a lowly Asse more white then snow,
Yet she much whiter, but the same did hide
Vnder a vele, that wimpled was full low,
And ouer all a blacke stole shee did throw,
As one that inly mournd: so was she sad,
And heauie sate vpon her palfrey slow:
Seemed in heart some hidden care she had;
And by her in a line a milkewhite lambe she lad.
So pure and innocent, as that same lambe,
She was in life and euery vertuous lore,
And by descent from Royall lynage came
Of ancient Kinges and Queenes, that had of yore
Their scepters stretcht from East to Westerne shore,
And all the world in their subiection held,
Till that infernall feend with foule vprore
Forwasted all their land, and them expeld:
Whom to auenge, she had this Knight from far cōpeld.
Behind her farre away a Dwarfe did lag,
That lasie seemd in being euer last,
Or wearied with bearing of her bag
Of needments at his backe. Thus as they past,
The day with cloudes was suddeine ouercast,
And angry Ioue an hideous storme of raine
Did poure into his Lemans lap so fast,
That euerie wight to shrowd it did constrain,
And this faire couple eke to shroud thēselues were fain.
Enforst to seeke some couert nigh at hand,
A shadie groue not farr away they spide,
That promist ayde the tempest to withstand:
Whose loftie trees yclad with sommers pride,
Did spred so broad, that heauens light did hide,
Not perceable with power of any starr:
And all within were pathes and alleies wide,
With footing worne, and leading inward farr:
Faire harbour that them seemes, so in they entred ar.
And foorth they passe, with pleasure forward led,
Ioying to heare the birdes sweete harmony,
Which therein shrouded from the tempest dred,
Seemd in their song to scorne the cruell sky.
Much can they praise the trees so straight and hy,
The sayling Pine, the Cedar proud and tall,
The vine-propp Elme, the Poplar neuer dry,
The builder Oake, sole king of forrests all,
The Aspine good for staues, the Cypresse funerall.
The Laurell, meed of mightie Conquerours
And Poets sage, the Firre that weepeth still,
The Willow worne of forlorne Paramours,
The Eugh obedient to the benders will,
The Birch for shaftes, the Sallow for the mill,
The Mirrhe sweete bleeding in the bitter wound,
The warlike Beech, the Ash for nothing ill,
The fruitfull Oliue, and the Platane round,
The caruer Holme, the Maple seeldom inward sound.
Led with delight, they thus beguile the way,
Vntill the blustring storme is ouerblowne;
When weening to returne, whence they did stray,
They cannot finde that path, which first was showne,
[Page 6]But wander too and fro in waies vnknowne,
Furthest from end then, when they neerest weene,
That makes thē doubt, their wits be not their owne:
So many pathes, so many turnings seene,
That which of them to take, in diuerse doubt they been.
At last resoluing forward still to fare,
Till that some end they finde or in or out,
That path they take, that beaten seemd most bare,
And like to lead the labyrinth about;
Which when by tract they hunted had throughout,
At length it brought them to a hollowe caue,
Amid the thickest woods. The Champion stout
Eftsoones dismounted from his courser braue,
And to the Dwarfe a while his needlesse spere he gaue.
Be well aware, quoth then that Ladie milde,
Least suddaine mischiefe ye too rash prouoke:
The danger hid, the place vnknowne and wilde,
Breedes dreadfull doubts: Oft fire is without smoke,
And perill without show: therefore your hardy stroke
Sir knight with-hold, till further tryall made.
Ah Ladie (sayd he) shame were to reuoke,
The forward footing for an hidden shade:
Vertue giues her selfe light, through darkenesse for to wade.
Yea but (quoth she) the perill of this place
I better wot then you, though nowe too late,
To wish you backe returne with foule disgrace,
Yet wisedome warnes, whilest foot is in the gate,
To stay the steppe, ere forced to retrate.
This is the wandring wood, this Errours den,
A monster vile, whom God and man does hate:
Therefore I read beware. Fly fly (quoth then
The fearefull Dwarfe:) this is no place for liuing men.
But full of fire and greedy hardiment,
The youthfull knight could not for ought be staide,
But forth vnto the darksom hole he went,
And looked in: his glistring armor made
A litle glooming light, much like a shade,
By which he saw the vgly monster plaine,
Halfe like a serpent horribly displaide,
But th' other halfe did womans shape retaine,
Mostlothsom, filthie, foule, and full of vile disdaine.
And as she lay vpon the durtie ground,
Her huge long taile her den all ouerspred,
Yet was in knots and many boughtes vpwound,
Pointed with mortall sting. Of her there bred,
A thousand yong ones, which she dayly fed,
Sucking vpon her poisnous dugs, eachone
Of sundrie shapes, yet all ill fauored:
Soone as that vncouth light vpon them shone,
Into her mouth they crept, and suddain all were gone.
Their dam vpstart, out of her den effraide,
And rushed forth, hurling her hideous taile
About her cursed head, whose folds displaid
Were stretcht now forth at length without entraile,
She lookt about, and seeing one in mayle
Armed to point, sought backe to turne againe;
For light she hated as the deadly bale,
Ay wont in desert darknes to remaine,
Where plain none might her see, nor she see any plaine.
Which when the valiant Elfe perceiu'd, he lept
As Lyon fierce vpon the flying pray,
And with his trenchand blade her boldly kept
From turning backe, and forced her to stay:
[Page 8]Therewith enrag'd, she loudly gan to bray,
And turning fierce, her speckled taile aduaunst,
Threatning her angrie sting, him to dismay:
Who nought aghast, his mightie hand enhaunst:
The stroke down frō her head vnto her shoulder glaunst
Much daunted with that dint, her sence was dazd,
Yet kindling rage her selfe she gathered round,
And all attonce her beastly bodie raizd
With doubled forces high aboue the ground:
Tho wrapping vp her wrethed sterne arownd,
Lept fierce vpon his shield, and her huge traine
All suddenly about his body wound,
That hand or foot to stirr he stroue in vaine:
God helpe the man so wrapt in Errours endlesse traine.
His Lady sad to see his sore constraint,
Cride out, Now now Sir knight, shew what ye bee
Add faith vnto your force, and be not faint:
Strangle her, els she sure will strangle thee.
That when he heard, in great perplexitie,
His gall did grate for griefe and high disdaine,
And knitting all his force got one hand free,
Wherewith he grypther gorge with so great paine,
That soone to loose her wicked bands did her cōstraine.
Therewith she spewd out of her filthie maw
A floud of poyson horrible and blacke,
Full of great lumps of flesh and gobbets raw,
Which stunck so [...], that it forst him slacke,'
His grasping hold, and [...] her turne him backe:
Her vomit full of bookes and papers was,
With loathly frogs and toades, which eyes did lacke,
And creeping sought way in the weedy gras:
Her filthie parbreake all the place defiled has.
As when old father Nilus gins to swell
With timely pride aboue the Aegyptian vale,
His fattie waues doe fertile slime outwell,
And ouerflow each plaine and lowly dale:
But when his later ebbe gins t'auale,
Huge heapes of mudd he leaues, wherin there breed
Ten thousand kindes of creatures partly male
And partly femall of his fruitful seed;
Such vgly monstrous shapes elswher may no man reed.
The same so sore annoyed has the knight,
That welnigh choked with the deadly stinke,
His forces faile, ne can no lenger fight.
Whose corage when the feend pereeiud to shrinke,
She poured forth out of her hellish sinke
Her fruitfull cursed spawne of serpents small,
Deformed monsters, fowle, and blacke as inke,
Which swarming all about his legs did crall,
And him encombred sore, but could not hurt at all.
As gentle Shepheard in sweete euentide,
When ruddy Phebus gins to welke in west,
High on an hill, his flocke to vewen wide,
Markes which doe byte their hasty supper best,
A cloud of cumbrous gnattes doe him molest,
All striuing to infixe their feeble stinges,
That from their noyance he no where can rest,
But with his clownish hands their tender wings,
He brusheth oft, and oft doth mar their murmurings.
Thus ill bestedd, and fearefull more of shame,
Then of the certeine perill he stood in,
Halfe furious vnto his foe he came,
Resolud in minde all suddenly to win,
[Page 10]Or soone to lose, before he once would lin;
And stroke at her with more then manly force,
That from her body full of filthie sin
He raft her hatefull heade without remorse;
A streame of cole black blood forth gushed frō her corse
Her scattred brood, soone as their Parent deare
They saw so rudely falling to the ground,
Groning full deadly, all with troublous feare,
Gathred themselues about her body round,
Weening their wonted entrance to haue found
At her wide mouth: but being there withstood
They flocked all about her bleeding wound,
And sucked vp their dying mothers bloud,
Making her death their life, and eke her hurt their good.
That detestable sight him much amazde,
To see th'vnkindly Impes of heauen accurst,
Deuoure their dam; on whom while so he gazd,
Hauing all satisfide their bloudy thurst,
Their bellies swolne he saw with fulnesse burst,
And bowels gushing forth: well worthy end
Of such as drunke her life, the which them nurst;
Now needeth him no lenger labour spend,
His foes haue slaine themselues, with whom he should contend.
His Lady seeing all, that chaunst, from farre
Approcht in hast to greet his victorie,
And saide, Faire knight, borne vnder happie starre,
Who see your vanquisht foes before you lye:
Well worthie be you of that Armory,
Wherein ye haue great glory wonne this day,
And proou'd your strength on a strong enimie,
Your first aduenture: many such I pray,
And henceforth euer wish, that like succeed it may.
Then mounted he vpon his Steede againe,
And with the Lady backward sought to wend;
That path he kept, which beaten was most plaine,
Ne euer would to any byway bend,
But still did follow one vnto the end,
The which at last out of the wood them brought.
So forward on his way (with God to frend)
He passed forth, and new aduenture sought,
Long way he traueiled, before he heard of ought.
At length they chaunst to meet vpon the way
An aged Sire, in long blacke weedes yclad,
His feete all bare, his beard all hoarie gray,
And by his belt his booke he hanging had;
Sober he seemde, and very sagely sad,
And to the ground his eyes were lowly bent,
Simple in shew, and voide of malice bad,
And all the way he prayed as he went,
And often knockt his brest, as one that did repent.
He faire the knight saluted, louting low,
Who faire him quited, as that courteous was:
And after asked him, if he did know
Of straunge aduentures, which abroad did pas.
Ah my deare Sonne (quoth he) how should, alas,
Silly old man, that liues in hidden cell,
Bidding his beades all day for his trespas,
Tydings of warre and worldly trouble tell?
With holy father sits not with such thinges to mell.
But if of daunger which hereby doth dwell,
And homebred deuil ye desire to heare,
Of a straunge man I can you tidings tell,
That wasteth all this countrie farre and neare.
[Page 12]Of such (saide he) I chiefly doe inquere,
And shall thee well rewarde to shew the place,
In which that wicked wight his dayes doth weare:
For to all knighthood it is foule disgrace,
That such a cursed creature liues so long a space.
Far hence (quoth he) in wastfull wildernesse
His dwelling is, by which no liuing wight
May euer passe, but thorough great distresse.
Now (saide the Ladie) draweth toward night,
And well I wote, that of your later fight,
Ye all forwearied be: for what so strong,
But wanting rest will also want of might?
The Sunne that measures heauen all day long,
At night doth baite his steedes the Ocean waues emong.
Then with the Sunne take Sir, your timely rest,
And with new day new worke at once begin:
Vntroubled night they say giues counsell best.
Right well Sir knight ye haue aduised bin,
Quoth then that aged man; the way to win
Is wisely to aduise: now day is spent;
Therefore with me ye may take vp your In
For this same night. The knight was well content:
So with that godly father to his home they went.
A litle lowly Hermitage it was,
Downe in a dale, hard by a forests side,
Far from resort of people, that did pas
In traueill to and [...]: a litle wyde
There was an holy chappell edify de,
Wherein the Hermite dewly wont to say
His holy thinges each morne and euentyde:
Thereby a christall streame did gently play,
Which from a sacred fountaine welled forth alway.
Arriued there the litle house they fill,
Ne looke for entertainement, where none was.
Rest is their feast, and all thinges at their will;
The noblest mind the best contentment has.
With faire discourse the euening so they pas:
For that olde man of pleasing wordes had store,
And well could file his tongue as smooth as glas,
He told of Saintes and Popes, and euermore
He strowd an Aue-Mary after and before.
The drouping Night thus creepeth on them fast,
And the sad humor loading their eye liddes,
As messenger of Morpheus on them cast
Sweet slōbring deaw, the which to sleep them biddes:
Vnto their lodgings then his guestes he riddes:
Where when all drownd in deadly sleepe he findes,
He to his studie goes, and there amiddes
His magick bookes and artes of sundrie kindes,
He seekes out mighty charmes, to trouble sleepy minds.
Then choosing out few words most horrible,
(Let none them read) thereof did verses frame,
With which and other spelles like terrible,
He bad awake blacke Plutoes griesly Dame,
And cursed heuen, and spake reprochful shame
Of highest God, the Lord of life and light,
A bold bad man, that dar'd to call by name
Great Gorgon, prince of darknes and dead night,
At which Cocytus quakes and Styx is put to flight.
And forth he cald out of deepe darknes dredd
Legions of Sprights, the which like litle flyes
Fluttring about his euerdamned hedd,
A waite whereto their seruice he applyes,
[Page 14]To aide his friendes, or fray his enimies:
Of those he chose out two, the falsest twoo,
And fittest for to forge true-seeming lyes;
The one of them he gaue a message too,
The other by himselfe staide other worke to doo.
He making speedy way through spersed ayre,
And through the world of waters wide and deepe,
To Morpheus house doth hastily repaire.
Amid the bowels of the earth full steepe,
And low, where dawning day doth neuer peepe,
His dwelling is; there Tethys his wet bed
Doth euer wash, and Cynthia still doth steepe
In siluer deaw his euer drouping hed,
Whiles sad Night ouer him her mātle black doth spred.
Whose double gates he findeth locked fast,
The one faire fram'd of burnisht Yuory,
The other all with siluer ouercast;
And wakeful dogges before them farre doelye,
Watching to banish Care their enimy,
Who oft is wont to trouble gentle Sleepe.
By them the Sprite doth passe in quietly,
And vnto Morpheus comes, whom drowned deepe
In drowsie fit he findes: of nothing he takes keepe.
And more, to lulle him in his slumber soft,
A trickling streame from high rock tumbling downe
And euery drizling raine vpon the loft,
Mixt with a murmuring winde, much like the sowne
Of swarming Bees, did cast him in a swowne:
No other noyse, nor peoples troublous cryes,
As still are wont t'annoy the walled towne,
Might there be heard: but carelesse Quiet lyes,
Wrapt in eternall silence farre from enimyes.
The Messenger approching to him spake,
But his waste wordes retournd to him in vaine:
So sound he slept, that nought mought him awake.
Then rudely he him thrust, and pusht with paine,
Whereat he gan to stretch: but he againe
Shooke him so hard, that forced him to speake.
As one then in a dreame, whose dryer braine
Is tost with troubled sighes and fancies weake,
He mumbled soft, but would not all his silence breake.
The Sprite then gan more boldly him to wake,
And threatned vnto him the dreaded name
Of Hecate: whereat he gan to quake,
And lifting vp his lompish head, with blame
Halfe angrie asked him, for what he came.
Hether (quoth he) me Archimago sent,
He that the stubborne Sprites can wisely tame,
He bids thee to him send for his intent
A fit false dreame, that can delude the sleepers sent.
The God obayde, and calling forth straight way
A diuerse dreame out of his prison darke,
Deliuered it to him, and downe did lay
His heauie head, deuoide of careful carke,
Whose sences all were straight benumbd and starke.
He backe returning by the Yuorie dore,
Remounted vp as light as chearefull Larke,
And on his litle winges the dreame he bore,
In hast vnto his Lord, where he him left afore.
Who all this while with charmes and hidden artes,
Had made a Lady of that other Spright,
And fram'd of liquid ayre her tender partes
So liuely and so like in all mens sight,
[Page 16]That weaker sence it could haue rauisht quight:
The maker selfe for all his wondrous witt,
Was nigh beguiled with so goodly sight:
Her all in white he clad, and ouer it
Cast a blackstole, most like to seeme for Vna fit.
Now when that ydle dreame was to him brought,
Vnto that Elfin knight he bad him fly,
Where he slept soundly void of euil thought,
And with false shewes abuse his fantasy,
In sort as he him schooled priuily:
And that new creature borne without her dew,
Full of the makers guyle with vsage sly
He taught to imitate that Lady trew,
Whose semblance she did carrie vnder feigned hew.
Thus well instructed, to their worke they haste,
And comming where the knight in slomber lay,
The one vpon his hardie head him plaste,
And made him dreame of loues and lustfull play,
That nigh his manly hart did melt away,
Bathed in wanton blis and wicked ioy:
Then seemed him his Lady by him lay,
And to him playnd, how that false winged boy,
Her chaste hart had subdewd, to learne Dame pleasures toy.
And she her selfe of beautie soueraigne Queene,
Fayre Venus seem de vnto his bed to bring
Her, whom he waking euermore did weene,
To bee the chastest flowre, that aye did spring
On earthly braunch, the daughter of a king,
Now a loose Leman to vile seruice bound:
And eke the Graces seemed all to sing,
Hymen 1/10 Hymen, dauncing all around,
Whylst freshest Flora her with Yuie girlond crownd.
In this great passion of vnwonted lust,
Or wonted feare of doing ought amis,
He starteth vp, as seeming to mistrust,
Some secret ill, or hidden foe of his:
Lo there before his face his Ladie is,
Vnder blacke stole hyding her bayted hooke,
And as halfe blushing offred him to kis,
With gentle blandishment and louely looke,
Most like that virgin true, which for her knight him took
All cleane dismayd to see so vncouth sight,
And halfe enraged at her shamelesse guise,
He thought haue slaine her in his fierce despight,
But hastie heat tempring with sufferance wise,
He stayde his hand, and gan himselfe aduise
To proue his sense, and tempt her faigned truth.
Wringing her hands in wemens pitteous wise,
Tho can she weepe, to stirre vp gentle ruth,
Both for her noble blood, and for her tender youth.
And sayd, Ah Sir, my liege Lord and my loue,
Shall I accuse the hidden cruell fate,
And mightie causes wrought in heauen aboue,
Or the blind God, that doth me thus amate,
For hoped loue to winne me certaine hate?
Yet thus perforce he bids me do, or die.
Die is my dew: yet rew my wretched state
You, whom my hard auenging destinie
Hath made iudge of my life or death indifferently.
Your owne deare sake forst me at first to leaue
My Fathers kingdom, There she stopt with teares;
Her swollen hart her speech seemd to bereaue,
And then againe begonne, My weaker yeares
[Page 18]Captiu'd to fortune and frayle worldly feares
Fly to your fayth for succour and sure ayde:
Let me not die in languor and long teares.
Why Dame (quoth he) what hath ye thus dismayd?
What frayes ye, that were wont to comfort me affrayd?
Loue of your selfe, she saide, and deare constraint
Lets me not sleepe, but waste the wearie night
In secret anguish and vnpittied plaint,
Whiles you in carelesse sleepe are drowned quight.
Her doubtfull words made that redoubted knight
Suspect her truth: yet since no'vntruth he knew,
Her fawning loue with foule disdainefull spight
He would not shend, but said, Deare dame I rew,
That for my sake vnknowne such griefe vnto you grew.
Assure your selfe, it fell not all to ground;
For all so deare as life is to my hart,
I deeme your loue, and hold me to you bound;
Nelet vaine feares procure your needlesse smart,
Where cause is none, but to your rest depart.
Not all content, yet seemd she to appease
Her mournefull plaintes, beguiled of her art,
And [...] with words, that could not chose but please,
So slyding softly forth, she turnd as to her ease.
Long after lay he musing at her mood,
Much grieu'd to thinke that gentle Dame so light,
For whose defence he was to shed his blood.
At last dull wearines of former fight
Hauing yrockt a sleepe his irkesome spright,
That troublous dreame gan freshly tosse his braine,
With bowres, and beds, and ladies deare delight:
But when he saw his labour all was vaine,
With that misformed spright he backe returnd againe.
Cant. II.
The guilefull great Enchaunter parts.
The Redcrosse Knight from Truth:
Into whose steps faire falshood steps,
And workes him woefull ruth.
BY this the Northerne wagoner had set
His seuenfold teme behind the stedfast starre,
That was in Ocean waues yet neuer wet,
Bur firme is fixt, and sendeth light from farre
To al, that in the wide deepe wandring arre:
And chearefull Chaunticlere with his note shrill
Had warned once, that Phoebus fiery carre,
In hast was climbing vp the Easterne hill,
Full enuious that night so long his roome did fill.
When those accursed messengers of hell,
That feigning dreame, and that faire-forged Spright
Came to their wicked maister, and gan tel
Their bootelesse paines, and ill succeeding night:
Who all in rage to see his skilfull might
Deluded so, gan threaten hellish paine
And sad Proserpines wrath, them to affright.
But when he saw his threatning was but vaine,
He cast about, and searcht his baleful bokes againe.
Eftsoones he tooke that miscreated faire,
And that false other Spright, on whom he spred
A seeming body of the subtile aire,
Like a young Squire, in loues and lusty hed
[Page 20]His wanton daies that euer loosely led,
Without regard of armes and dreaded fight:
Those twoo he tooke, and in a secrete bed,
Couered with darkenes and misdeeming night,
Them both together laid, to ioy in vaine delight.
Forthwith he runnes with feigned faithfull hast
Vnto his guest, who after troublous sights
And dreames gan now to take more sound repast,
Whom suddenly he wakes with fearful frights,
As one aghast with feends or damned sprights,
And to him cals, Rise rise vnhappy Swaine,
That here wex old in [...], whiles wicked wights
Haue knit themselues in Venus shameful chaine;
Come see, where your false Lady doth her honor staine.
All in amaze he suddenly vp start
With sword in hand, and with the old man went;
Who soone him brought into a secret part,
Where that false couple were full closely ment
In wanton lust and leud enbracement:
Which when he saw, he burnt with gealous fire,
The eie of reason was with rage yblent,
And would haue slaine them in his furious ire,
But hardly was restreined of that aged sire.
Retourning to his bed in torment great,
And bitter anguish of his guilty sight,
He could not rest, but did his stout heart eat,
And wast his inward gall with deepe despight,
Yrkesome of life, and too long lingring night.
At last faire Hesperus in highest skie
Had spent his lāpe, and brought forth dawning light,
Then vp he rose, and clad him hastily;
The dwarfe him brought his steed: so both away do fly.
Now when the rosy fingred Morning faire,
Weary of aged Tithones saffron bed,
Had spred her purple robe through deawy aire,
And the high hils Titan discouered,
The royall virgin shooke of drousy hed,
And rising forth out of her baser bowre,
Lookt for her knight, who far away was fled,
And for her dwarfe, that wont to wait each howre;
Then gan she wail and weepe, to see that woeful stowre.
And after him she rode with so much speede,
As her slowe beast could make; but all in vaine:
For him so far had borne his light-foot steede,
Pricked with wrath and fiery fierce disdaine,
That him to follow was but fruitlesse paine;
Yet she her weary limbes would neuer rest,
But euery hil and dale, each wood and plaine
Did search, sore grieued in her gentle brest,
He so vngently left her, whome she loued best.
But subtill Archimago when his guests
He saw diuided into double parts,
And Vna wandring in woods and forrests,
Th'end of his drift, he praisd his diuelish arts,
That had such might ouer true meaning harts:
Yet rests not so, but other meanes doth make,
How he may worke vnto her further smarts:
For her he hated as the hissing snake,
And in her many troubles did most pleasure take.
He then deuisde himselfe how to disguise;
For by his mighty science he could take
As many formes and shapes in seeming wise,
As euer Proteus to himselfe could make:
[Page 22]Sometime a fowle, sometime a fish in lake,
Now like a foxe, now like a dragon fell,
That of himselfe he ofte for feare would quake,
And oft would flie away. O who can tell
The hidden powre of herbes, and might of Magick spel?
But now seemde best, the person to put on
Of that good knight, his late beguiled guest:
In mighty armes he was yclad anon:
And siluer shield, vpon his coward brest
A bloody crosse, and on his crauen crest
A bounch of heares discolourd diuersly:
Full iolly knight he seemde, and wel addrest,
And when he sate vppon his courser free,
Saint George himselfe ye would haue deemed him to be.
But he the knight, whose semblaunt he did beare,
The true Saint George was wandred far away,
Still flying from his thoughts and gealous feare;
Will was his guide, and griefe led him astray.
At last him chaunst to meete vpon the way
A faithlesse Sarazin all armde to point,
In whose great shield was writ with letters gay
Sans foy: full large of limbe and euery ioint
He was, and cared not for God or man a point.
Hee had a faire companion of his way,
A goodly Lady clad in scarlotred,
Purfled with gold and pearle of rich assay,
And like a Persian mitre on her hed
Shee wore, with crowns and owches garnished,
The which her lauish louers to her gaue,
Her wanton palfrey all was ouerspred
With tinsell trappings, wouen like a waue,
Whose bridle rung with golden bels and bosses braue.
With faire disport and courting dalliaunce
She intertainde her louer all the way:
But when she saw the knight his speare aduaunce,
Shee soone left of her mirth and wanton play,
And bad her knight addresse him to the fray:
His foe was nigh at hand. He prickte with pride
And hope to winne his Ladies hearte that day.
Forth spurred fast: adowne his coursers side
The red bloud trickling staind the way, as he did ride.
The knight of the Redcrosse when him he spide,
Spurring so hote with rage dispiteous,
Gan fairely couch his speare, and towards ride:
Soone meete they both, both fell and furious,
That daunted with theyr forces hideous,
Theit steeds doe stagger, and amazed stand,
And eke themselues too rudely rigorous,
Astonied with the stroke of their owne hand,
Doe backe rebutte, and ech to other yealdeth land.
As when two rams stird with ambitious pride,
Fight for the rule of the rich fleeced flocke,
Their horned fronts so fierce on either side,
Doe meete, that with the terror of the shocke.
Astonied both, stands fencelesse as a blocke.
Forgetfull of the hanging victory:
So stood these twaine, vnmoued as a rocke,
Both staring fierce, and holding idely,
The broken reliques of their former cruelty.
The Sarazin sore daunted with the buffe
Snatcheth his sword, and fiercely to him flies;
Who well it wards, and quyteth cuff with cuff:
Each others equall puissaunce enuies,
[Page 24]And through their iron sides with cruelties
Does seeke to perce: repining courage yields
No foote to foe. The flashing fier flies
As from a forge out of their burning shields,
And streams of purple bloud new dies the verdāt fields.
Curse on that Crosse (qd. then the Sarazin)
That keepes thy body from the bitter fitt;
Dead long ygoe I wote thou haddest bin,
Had not that charme from thee forwarned itt:
But yet I warne thee now assured sitt,
And hide thy head. Therewith vpon his crest
With rigorso outrageous he smitt,
That a large share it hewd out of the rest,
And glauncing downe his shield, from blame him fairely blest.
Who thereat wondrous wroth, the sleeping spark
Of natiue vertue gan eftsoones reuiue,
And at his haughty helmet making mark,
So hugely stroke, that it the steele did riue,
And cleft his head. He tumbling downe aliue,
With bloudy mouth his mother earth did kis,
Greeting his graue: his grudging ghost did striue
With the fraile flesh; at last it flitted is,
Whether the soules doe fly of men, that liue amis.
The Lady when she saw her champion fall,
Like the old ruines of a broken towre,
Staid not to waile his woefull funerall,
But from him fled away with all her powre;
Who after her as hastily gan scowre,
Bidding the dwarfe with him to bring away
The Sarazins shield, signe of the conqueroure,
Her soone he ouertooke, and bad to stay,
For present cause was none of dread her to dismay.
Shee turning backe with ruefull countenaunce,
Cride, Mercy mercy Sir vouchsafe to show
On silly Dame, subiect to hard mischaunce,
And to your mighty wil. Her humblesse low
In so ritch weedes and seeming glorious show,
Did much emmoue his stout heroïcke heart,
And said, Deare dame, your suddein ouerthrow
Much rueth me; but now put feare apart,
And tel, both who ye be, and who that tooke your part.
Melting in teares, then gan shee thus lament;
The wreched woman, whom vnhappy howre
Hath now made thrall to your commandement,
Before that angry heauens list to lowre,
And fortune false betraide me to thy powre,
Was, (O what now auaileth that I was?)
Borne the sole daughter of an Emperour,
He that the wide West vnder his rule has,
And high hath set his throne, where Tiberis doth pas.
He in the first flowre of my freshest age,
Betrothed me vnto the onely haire
Of a most mighty king, most rich and sage;
Was neuer Prince so faithfull and so faire,
Was neuer Prince so meeke and debonaire;
But ere my hoped day of spousall shone,
My dearest Lord fell from high honors staire,
Into the hands of hys accursed fone,
And cruelly was slaine, that shall I euer mone.
His blessed body spoild of liuely breath,
Was afterward, I know not how, conuaid
And fro me hid: of whose most innocent death
When tidings came to mee vnhappy maid,
[Page 26]O how great sorrow my sad soulea ssaid.
Then forth I went his woefull corse to find,
And many yeares throughout the world I straid,
A virgin widow, whose deepe wounded mind
With loue, long time did languish as the striken hind.
At last it chaunced this proud Sarazin,
To meete me wandring, who perforce me led
With him away, but yet could neuer win
The Fort, that Ladies hold in soueraigne dread.
There lies he now with foule dishonor dead,
Who whiles he liude, was called proud Sans foy,
The eldest of three brethren, all three bred
Of one bad sire, whose youngest is Sansioy,
And twixt them both was born the bloudy bold Sansloy.
In this sad plight, friendlesse, vnfortunate,
Now miserable I Fidessa dwell,
Crauing of you in pitty of my state,
To doe none ill, if please ye not doe well.
He in great passion al this while did dwell,
More busying his quicke eies, her face to view,
Then his dull eares, to heare what shee did tell,
And said, faire Lady hart of flint would rew
The vndeserued woes and sorrowes, which ye shew.
Henceforth in safe assuraunce may ye rest,
Hauing both found a new friend you to aid,
And lost an old foe, that did you molest:
Better new friend then an old foe is said.
With chaunge of chear the seeming simple maid
Let fal her eien, as shamefast to the earth,
And yeelding soft, in that she nought gain said,
So forth they rode, he feining seemely merth,
And shee coy lookes: so dainty they say maketh derth.
Long time they thus together traueiled,
Til weary of their way, they came at last,
Where grew two goodly trees, that faire did spred
Their armes abroad, with gray mosse ouercast,
And their greene leaues trembling with euery blast,
Made a calme shadowe far in compasse round:
The fearefull Shepheard often there aghast
Vnder them neuer sat, ne wont there sound
His mery oaten pipe, but shund th'vnlucky ground.
But this good knight soone as he them can spie,
For the coole shade him thither hastly got:
For golden Phoebus now that mounted hie,
From fiery wheeles of his faire chariot
Hurled his beame so scorching cruell hot,
That liuing creature mote it not abide;
And his new Lady it endured not.
There they alight, in hope themselues to hide
From the fierce heat, and rest their weary limbs a tide,
Faire seemely pleasaunce each to other makes,
With goodly purposes there as they sit:
And in his falsed fancy he her takes
To be the fairest wight, that liued yit;
Which to expresse, he bends his gentle wit,
And thinking of those braunches greene to frame
A girlond for her dainty forehead fit,
He pluckt a bough; out of whose rifte there came
Smal drops of gory bloud, that trickled down the same.
Therewith a piteous yelling voice was heard,
Crying, O spare with guilty hands to teare
My tender sides in this rough rynd embard,
But fly, ah fly far hence away, for feare
[Page 28]Least to you hap, that happened to me heare,
And to this wretched Lady, my deare loue,
O too deare loue, loue bought with death too deare.
Astond he stood, and vp his heare did houe,
And with that suddein horror could no member moue.
At last whenas the dreadfull passion
Was ouerpast, and manhood well awake,
Yet musing at the straunge occasion,
And doubting much his sence, he thus bespake;
What voice of damned Ghost from Limbo lake,
Or guilefull spright wandring in empty aire,
Both which fraile men doe oftentimes mistake,
Sends to my doubtful eares these speaches rare,
And tuefull plants, me bidding guiltlesse blood to spare?
Then groning deep, Nor damned Ghost, (qd. he,)
Nor guileful sprite to thee these words doth speake,
But once a man Fradubio, now a tree,
Wretched man, wretched tree; whose nature weake
A cruell witch her cursed will to wreake,
Hath thus transformd, and plast in open plaines,
Where Boreas doth blow full bitter bleake,
And scorching Sunne does dry my secret vaines:
For though a tree I seme, yet cold & heat me paines.
Say on Fradubio then, or man, or tree,
Qd. then the knight, by whose mischieuous arts
Art thou misshaped thus, as now I see?
He oft finds med'cine, who his griefe imparts;
But double griefs afflict concealing harts,
As raging flames who striueth to suppresse.
The author then (said he) of all my smarts,
Is one Duessa a false sorceresse,
That many errāt knights hath broght to wretchednesse.
In prime of youthly yeares, when corage hott
The fire of loue and ioy of cheualree
First kindled in my brest, it was my lott
To loue this gentle Lady, whome ye see,
Now not a Lady, but a seeming tree;
With whome as once I rode accompanyde,
Me chaunced of a knight encountred bee,
That had a like faire Lady by his syde,
Lyke a faire Lady, but did fowle Duessa hyde.
Whose forged beauty he did take in hand,
All other Dames to haue exceded farre;
I in defence of mine did likewise stand,
Mine, that did then shine as the Morning starre:
So both to batteill fierce arraunged arre,
In which his harder fortune was to fall
Vnder my speare: such is the dye of warre:
His Lady left as a prise martiall,
Did yield her comely person, to be at my call.
So doubly lou'd of ladies vnlike faire,
Th'one seeming such, the other such indeede,
One day in doubt I cast for to compare,
Whether in beauties glorie did exceede;
A Rosy girlond was the victors meede:
Both seemde to win, and both seemde won to bee,
So hard the discord was to be agreede.
Fralissa was as faire, as faire mote bee,
And euerfalse Duessa seemde as faire as shee.
The wicked witch now seeing all this while
The doubtfull ballaunce equally to sway,
What not by right, she cast to win by guile,
And by her hellish science raisd streight way
[Page 30]A foggy mist, that ouercast the day,
And a dull blast, that breathing on her face,
Dimmed her former beauties shining ray,
And with foule vgly forme did her disgrace:
Then was she fayre alone, when none was faire in place.
Then cride she out, fye, fye, deformed wight,
Whose borrowed beautie now appeareth plaine
To haue before bewitched all mens sight;
O leaue her soone, or let her soone be slaine.
Her loathly visage viewing with disdaine,
Eftsoones I thought her such, as she me told,
And would haue kild her; but with faigned paine,
The false witch did my wrathfull hand with-hold:
So left her, where she now is turnd to treen mould.
Then forth I tooke Duessa for my Dame,
And in the witch vnweeting ioyd long time,
Ne euer wist, but that she was the same,
Till on a day (that day is euerie Prime,
When Witches wont do penance for their crime)
I chaunst to see her in her proper hew,
Bathing her selfe in origane and thyme:
A filthy foule old woman I did vew,
That euer to haue toucht her, I did deadly rew.
Her neather partes misshapen, monstruous,
Were hidd in water, that I could not see,
But they did seeme more foule and hideous,
Then womans shape man would beleeue to bee.
Then forth from her most beastly companie
I gan refraine, in minde to slipp away,
Soone as appeard safe opportunitie:
For danger great, if not assurd decay
I saw before mine eyes, if I were knowne to stray.
The diuelish hag by chaunges of my cheare
[...] my thought; and drownd in [...] night,
With wicked herbes and oyntments did besmeare
My body all, through charmes and magicke might,
That all my senses were bereaued quight:
Then brought she me into this desert waste,
And by my wretched louers side me pight,
Where now enclosd in wooden wals full faste,
Banisht from liuing wights, our wearie daies we waste.
But how long time, said then the [...] knight,
Are you in this misformed hous to dwell?
We may not chaunge (quoth he) this euill plight,
Till we be bathed in a liuing well;
That is the terme prescribed by the spell.
O how, sayd'he, mote I that well out find,
That may restore you to your wonted well?
Time and suffised fates to former kynd
Shall vs restore, none else from hence may vs vnbynd.
The false Duessa, now Fidessa hight,
Heard how in vaine Fradubio did lament,
And knew well all was true, But the good knight
Full of sad feare and ghastly dreriment,
When all this speech the liuing tree had spent,
The bleeding bough did thrust into the ground,
That from the blood he might be innocent,
And with fresh clay did close the wooden wound:
Then turning to his Lady, dead with feare her fownd.
Her seeming dead he fownd with feigned feare,
As all vnweeting of that well she knew,
And paynd himselfe with busie care to reare
Her out of carelesse swowne. Her eylids blew
[Page 32]And dimmed fight with pale and deadly hew
At last she vp gan lift: with trembling cheare
Her vp he tooke, too simple and too trew,
And oft her kist. At length all passed feare,
He set her on her steede, and forward forth did beare.
Cant. III.
Forsaken Truth long seekes her loue,
And makes the Lyon mylde,
Marres blind Deuotions mart, & fals
In hand of leachour vylde.
NOught is there vnder heau'ns wide hollownesse,
That moues more deare compassion of mind,
Then beautie brought t'vnworthie wretchednesse
Through enuies snares or fortunes freakes vnkind:
I, whether lately through her brightne blynd,
Or through alleageance and fast fealty,
Which I do owe vnto all womankynd,
Feele my hart perst with so great agony,
When such I see, that all for pitty I could dy.
And now it is empassioned so deepe,
For fairest Vnaes sake, of whom I sing,
That my frayle eies these lines with teares do steepe,
To thinke how she through guylefull handeling
Though true as touch, though daughter of a king,
Though faire as euer liuing wight was fayre,
Though nor in word nor deede ill meriting,
Is from her knight diuorced in despayre
And her dew loues deryu'd to that vile witches shayre.
Yet she most faithfull Ladie all this while
Forsaken, wofull, solitarie mayd
Far from all peoples preace, as in exile,
In wildernesse and wastfull deserts strayd,
To seeke her knight; who subtily betrayd
Through that late vision, which th'Enchaunter wrought
Had her abandond. She of nought affrayd,
Through woods and wastnes wide him daily sought;
Yet wished tydinges none of him vnto her brought.
One day nigh wearie of the yrkesome way,
From her vnhastie beast she did alight,
And on the grasse her dainty limbs did lay
In secrete shadow, far from all mens sight:
From her fayre head her fillet she vndight,
And layd her stole aside. Her angels face
As the great eye of heauen shyned bright,
And made a sunshine in the shady place;
Did neuer mortall eye behold such heauenly grace.
It fortuned out of the thickest wood
A ramping Lyon rushed suddeinly,
Hunting full greedy after saluage blood;
Soone as the royall virgin he did spy,
With gaping mouth at her ran greedily,
To haue attonce deuourd her tender corse:
But to the pray when as he drew more ny,
His bloody rage aswaged with remorse,
And with the sight amazd, forgat his furious forse.
In stead thereof he kist her wearie feet,
And lickt her lilly hands with fawning tong,
As he her wronged innocence did weet.
O how can beautie maister the most strong,
[Page 34]And simple truth subdue auenging wrong?
Whose yielded pryde and proud submission,
Still dreading death, when she had marked long,
Her hart gan melt in great compassion,
And drizling teares did shed for pure affection.
The Lyon Lord of euerie beast in field
Quoth she, his princely puissance doth abate,
And mightie proud to humble weake does yield,
Forgetfull of the hungry rage, which late
Him prickt, in pit tie of my sad estate:
But he my Lyon, and my noble Lord
How does he find in cruell hart to hate
Her that him lou'd, and euer most adord,
As the God of my life? why hath he me abhord?
Redounding teares did choke th'end of her plaint,
Which softly ecchoed from the neighbour wood;
And sad to see her sorrowfull constraint
The kingly beast vpon her gazing stood;
With pittie calmd, downe fell his angry mood.
At last in close hart shutting vp her payne,
Arose the virgin borne of heauenly brood,
And to her snowy Palfrey got agayne,
To seeke her strayed Champion, if she might attayne.
The Lyon would not leaue her desolate,
But with her went along, as a strong gard
Of her chast person, and a faythfull mate
Of her sad troubles and misfortunes hard:
Still when she slept, he kept both watch and ward,
And when she wakt, he wayted diligent,
With humble seruice to her will prepard:
From her fayre eyes he tooke commandement,
And euer by her lookes conceiued herintent.
Long [...] thus [...] through [...] wyde,
By which she thought her wandring knight shold pas,
Yet neuer shew of liuing wight [...];
Till that at length she found the troden [...],
In which the tract of peoples footing was,
Vnder the steepe foot of a mountaine hore;
The same she followes, till at last she has
A damzell spyde slow footing her before,
That on her shoulders sad a [...] of water bore.
To whom approching she to her gan call,
To weet, if dwelling place were nigh at hand;
But the rude wench her answerd nought at all,
She could not heare, nor speake, nor vnderstand;
Till seeing by her side the Lyon [...],
With suddeine feare her pitcher downe she threw,
And fled away: for neuer in that land
Face of fayre Lady she before did vew,
And that dredd Lyons looke her cast in deadly hew.
Full fast she fled, ne euer lookt behynd,
As if her life vpon the wager lay,
And home she came, whereas her mother blynd
Sate in eternall night: nought could she say,
But [...] catching hold did her dismay
With quaking hands, and other signes of feare:
Who full of ghastly fright and cold affray,
Gan shut the dore. By this [...] there
Dame Vna, weary Dame, and entrance did requere.
Which when none yielded, her vnruly Page
With his rude clawes the wicket open rent,
And let her in; where of his cruell rage
Nigh dead with feare, and faint astonishment,
[Page 36]Shee found them both in darkefome corner pent;
Where that old woman day and night did pray
Vpon her beads deuoutly penitent;
Nine hundred Pater nosters euery day,
And thrise nine hundred Aues she was wont to say.
And to augment her painefull penaunce more,
Thrise euery weeke in [...] shee did sitt,
And next her wrinkled [...] rough sackecloth wore,
And thrise three times did fast from any bitt:
But now for feare her beads she did forgett.
Whose needelesse dread for to remoue away,
Faire Vna framed words and count'naunce fitt:
Which hardly [...], at length she [...] them pray,
That in their cotage [...] that night she rest her may.
The day is spent, and commeth drowsie night,
When euery creature shrowded is in sleepe;
Sad [...] [...] her [...] in weary plight,
And at her feete the Lyon watch doth keepe:
In stead of [...], and weepe
For the late [...] of her [...] loued knight,
And [...], and euermore does [...]
Her tender [...] teares all night,
All night she [...] too long, and often lookes [...] light.
Now when [...] was [...] hye
Aboue the [...] [...] chaire,
And all in [...] did [...],
One knocked at the dore, and in would fare;
He knocked [...], and often [...], and sware,
That ready entraunce was not at his call:
For on his [...] load he bare
Of nightly [...] and pillage seuerall,
Which he had got abroad by purchas criminall,
He was to weete a stout and sturdy thiefe,
Wont to robbe Churches of their ornaments,
And poore mens boxes of their due reliefe,
Which giuen was to them for good intents;
The holy Saints of their rich vestiments
He did disrobe, when all men carelesse slept,
And spoild the Priests of their [...],
Whiles none the holy things in safety kept;
Then he by conning sleights in at the window erept.
And all that he by right or wrong could find,
Vnto this house he brought, and did bestow
Vpon the daghter of this woman blind,
Abessa daughter of Corceca [...],
With whom he whoredome vsd, that few did know,
And fed her fatt with feast of offerings,
And plenty, which in all the land did grow;
Nespared he to giue her gold and rings:
And now he to her brought part of his stolen things.
Thus long the dore with rage and threats he bett,
Yet of those fearfull women none durstrize,
The Lyon frayed them, him into lett:
He would no lenger stay him to aduize,
But open breakes the dore in furious wize,
And entring is; when that disdainfull beast
Encountring fierce, him suddein doth surprize,
And seizing cruell clawes on trembling brest,
Vnder his Lordly foot him proudly hath supprest.
Him booteth not resist, nor succour call,
His bleeding hart is in the vengers hand,
Who streight him rent in thousand peeces small,
And quite dismembred hath: the thirsty land
His fearefull freends we are out the wofull night,
Ne dare [...] weepe, nor seeme to vnderstand
The heauie hap, which on them is alight,
Affraid, least to themselues the like mishappen might.
Now when [...] day the world discouered has,
Vp Vna rose, vp rose the lyon eke,
And on their former iourney forward pas,
In waies vnknowne, her wandring knight to seeke,
With paines far passing that long wandring Greeke,
That for his loue refused deitye;
Such were the labours of this Lady meeke,
Still seeking him, that from her still did flye,
Then furthest from her hope, whē most she weened nye.
Soone as she parted thence, the fearfull twayne,
That blind old woman and her daughter dear
Came forth, and finding Kirkrapine there slayne,
For anguish great they gan to rend their heare,
And [...] their brests, and naked flesh to reare.
And whcn they both had wept and wayld their fill,
Then forth they ran like two amazed deare,
Halfe mad through malice, and reuenging will,
To follow her, that was the causer of their ill.
Whome ouertaking, they gan loudly bray,
With hollow houling, and lamenting cry,
Shamefully at her rayling all the way,
And her accusing of dishonesty,
That was the [...] of faith and chastity;
And still amidst her rayling she did pray,
That plagues, and [...], and long misery
Might fall on her, and follow all the way,
And that in endlesse error she might euer stray.
But when she saw her prayers nought preuaile,
Shee backe retourned with some labour lost;
And in the way, as shee did weepe and waile,
A knight her mett in mighty armes embost,
Yet knight was not for all his bragging bost,
But subtill Archimag, that Vna sought
By traynes into new troubles to haue toste:
Of that old woman tidings he besought,
If that of such a Lady shee could tellen ought.
Therewith she gan her passion to renew,
And cry, and curse, and raile, and rend her heare,
Saying, that harlott she too lately knew,
That causd her shed so many a bitter teare,
And so forth told the story of her feare:
Much seemed he to mone her haplesse [...],
And after for that Lady did inquere;
Which being taught, he forward gan aduaunce
His fair enchaunted steed, and eke his charmed launce.
Ere long he came, where Vna traueild slow,
And that wilde Champion wayting her besyde:
Whome seeing such, for dread hee durst not show
Him selfe too nigh at hand, but turned wyde
Vnto an hil; from whence when she him spyde,
By his like seeming shield her knight by name
Shee weend it was, and towards him [...]:
Approching nigh she wist, it was the same,
And with faire fearefull humblesse towards him shee came.
And weeping said, Ah my long lacked Lord,
Where haue ye bene thus long out of my sight?
Much feared I to haue bene quite abhord,
Or ought haue done, that ye displeasen might,
[Page 40]That should as death vnto my deare heart light;
For since mine eie your ioyous sight did mis,
My chearefull day is turnd to chearelesse night,
And eke my night of death the shadow is;
But welcome now my light, and shining lampe of blis.
He thereto meeting said, My dearest Dame,
Far be it from your thought, and fro my wil,
To thinke that knighthood I so much should shame,
As you to leaue, that haue me loued stil,
And chose in Faery court of meere goodwil,
Where noblest knights were to be found on earth:
The earth shall sooner leaue her kindly skil
To bring foth fruit, and make eternall derth,
Then I leaue you, my liefe, yborn of heuenly berth.
And sooth to say, why I lefte you so long,
Was for to seeke aduenture in straunge place,
Where Archimago said a felon strong
To many knights did daily worke disgrace;
But knight he now shall neuer more deface,
Good cause of mine excuse, that moteye please
Well to accept, and euer more embrace
My faithfull seruice, that by land and seas
Haue vowd you to defend. Now then your plaint appease.
His louely words her seemd due recompence
Of all her passed paines: one louing howre
For many yeares of sorrow can dispence:
A dram of sweete is worth a pound of sowre:
Shee has forgott, how many, a woeful stowre
For him she late endurd; she speakes no more
Of past: true is, that true loue hath no powre
To looken backe; his eies be fixt before.
Before her stands her knight, for whom she toyld so sore.
Much like, as when the beaten marinere.
That long hath wandred in the [...] wide,
Ofte soust in swelling Tethys saltish teare,
And long time hauing tand his tawney hide,
With blustring breath of Heauē, that none [...] bide,
And scorching flames of fierce Orions hound,
Soone as the port from far he has espide,
His chearfull whistle merily doth sound,
And Nereus crownes with cups; his mates him pledg around.
Such ioy made Vna, when her knight she found;
And eke th'enchaunter ioyous seemde no lesse,
Then the glad marchant, that does vew from ground
His ship far come from watrie wildernesse,
He hurles out vowes, and Neptune oft doth blesse:
So forth they past, and all the way they spent
Discoursing of her dreadful late distresse,
In which he askt her, what the Lyon ment:
Who told her all that fell in iourney, as she went.
They had not ridden far, when they might see
One pricking towards them with hastie heat,
Full strongly armd, and on a courser free,
That through his fiersnesse fomed all with sweat,
And the sharpe yron did for anger eat,
When his hot ryder spurd his chauffed side;
His looke was sterne, and seemed still to threat
Cruell reuenge, which he in hart did hyde,
And on his shield Sans loy in bloody lines was dyde.
When nigh he drew vnto this gentle payre
And saw the Red-crosse, which the knight did beare,
He burnt in fire, and gan eftsoones prepare
Himselfe to batteill with his couched speare.
[Page 42]Loth was that other, and did faint through feare,
To taste th'vntryed dint of deadly steele;
But yet his Lady did so well him cheare,
That hope of new good hap he gan to feele;
So bent his speare, and spurd his horse with yron heele.
But that proud Paynim forward came so ferce,
And full of wrath, that with his sharphead speare
Through vainly [...] shield he quite did perce,
And had his staggering steed not shronke for feare,
Through shield and body eke he should him beare:
Yet so great was the puissance of his push,
That from his sadle quite he did him beare:
He tombling rudely downe to ground did rush,
And from his gored wound a well of bloud did gush.
Dismounting lightly from his loftie steed,
He to him lept, in minde to reaue his life,
And proudly said, [...] there the worthie meed
Of him, that slew Sansfoy with bloody knife;
Henceforth his ghost freed from repining strife,
In peace may passen ouer Let he lake,
When mourning altars purgd with enimies life,
The black infernall Furies doen aslake:
Life from [...] thou tookst, Sansloy shall frō thee take.
Therewith in haste his helmet gan vnlace,
Till Vna cride, O hold that heauie hand,
Deare Sir, what euer that thou be in place:
Enough is, that thy foe doth vanquisht stand
Now at thy mercy: Mercy not withstand:
For he is one the truest knight aliue,
Though conquered now he lye on lowly land,
And whilest him [...] fauourd, fayre did thriue
In bloudy field: therefore of life him not [...] epriue.
Her piteous wordes might not abate his rage,
But rudely rending vp his helmet, would
Haue slayne him streight: but when he sees his age,
And hoarie head of Archimago old,
His hasty hand he doth amased hold,
And halfe ashamed, wondred at the sight:
For the old man well knew he, though vntold,
In charmes and magick to haue wondrous might,
Ne euer wont in field, ne in round lists to fight.
And said, Why Archimago, lucklesse syre,
What doe I see? what hard mishap is this,
That hath thee hether brought to taste mine yre?
Or thine the fault, or mine the error is,
Instead of foe to wound my friend amis?
He answered nought, but in a traunce still lay,
And on those guile full [...] eyes of his
The cloude of death did sit. Which doen away,
He left him lying so, ne would no lenger stay.
But to the virgin comes, who all this while
Amased stands, her selfe so mockt to see
By him, who has the guerdon of his guile,
For so misfeigning her true knight to bee:
Yet is she now in more perplexitie,
Left in the hand of that same Paynim bold,
From whom her booteth not at all to flie;
Who by her cleanly garment catching hold,
Her from her Palfrey pluckt, her visage to behold.
But her fiers seruant full of kingly aw
And high disdaine, whenas his soueraine Dame
So rudely handled by her foe he saw,
With gaping iawesfull greedy at him came,
[Page 44]And ramping on his shield, did weene the same
Haue reft away with his sharprending clawes:
But he was stout, and lust did now inflame
His corage more, that frō his griping pawes
He hath his shield redeemd, and forth his swerd he drawes.
O then too weake and feeble was the forse
Of saluage beast, his puissance to withstand:
For he was strong, and of so mightie corse,
As euer wielded speare in warlike hand,
And feates of armes did wisely vnderstand.
Est soones he perced through his chaufed chest
With thrilling point of deadly yron brand,
And launcht his Lordly hart: with death opprest
He ror'd aloud, whiles life forsooke his stubborne brest.
Who now is left to keepe the forlorne maid
From raging spoile of law lesse victors will?
Her faithfull gard remou'd, her hope dismaid,
Her selfe a yielded pray to saue or spill.
He now Lord of the field, his pride to fill,
With foule reproches, and disdaineful spight
Her vildly entertaines, and will or nill,
Beares her away vpon his courser light:
Her prayers nought preuaile, his rage is more of might.
And all the way, with great lamenting paine,
And piteous plaintes she filleth his dull eares,
That stony hart could riuen haue in twaine,
And all the way she wetts with flowing teares:
But he enrag'd with rancor, nothing heares.
Her seruile beast yet would not leaue her so,
But followes her far of, ne ought he feares,
To be partaker of her wandring woe,
More mild in beastly kind, then that her beastly foe.
Can. IIII.
To sinfull hous of Pryde, Duessa
guydes the faithfull knight,
Where brothers death to wreak Sansioy
doth chaleng him to fight.
YOung knight, what euer that dost armes professe,
And through long labours huntest after fame,
Beware of fraud, beware of ficklenesse,
In choice, and chaunge of thy deare loued Dame,
Least thou of her belieue too lightly blame,
And rash misweening doe thy hart remoue:
For vnto knight there is no greater shame,
Then lightnesse and inconstancie in loue,
That doth this Redcrosse knights ensample plainly proue
Who after that he had faire Vna lorne,
Through light misdeeming of her loialtie,
And fale Duessa in her sted had borne,
Called Fidess, and so supposd to be;
Long with her traueild, till at last they see
A goodly building, brauely garnished,
The house of mightie Prince it seemd to be:
And towards it a broad high way that led,
All bare through peoples feet, which thether traueiled.
Great troupes of people traueild thetherward
Both day and night, of each degree and place,
But few returned, hauing scaped hard,
With balefull beggery, or soule disgrace,
[Page 46]Which euer after in most wretched care,
Like loathsome lazars, by the hedges lay.
Thether Duessa badd him bend his pace:
For she is wearie of the toilsom way,
And also nigh consumed is the lingring day.
A stately Pallace built of squared bricke,
Which cunningly was without morter laid,
Whose wals were high, but nothing strong, nor thick
And golden foile all ouer them displaid,
That purest skye with brightnesse they dismaid:
High lifted vp were many loftie towres,
And goodly galleries far ouer laid,
Full of faire windowes, and delightful bowres;
And on the top a Diall told the timely howres.
It was a goodly heape for to behould,
And spake the praises of the workmans witt;
But full great pittie, that so faire a mould
Did on so weake foundation euer sitt:
For on a sandie hill, that still did flitt,
And fall away, it mounted was full hie,
That euery breath of heauen shaked itt:
And all the hinder partes, that few could spie,
Were ruinous and old, but painted cunningly.
Arriued there they passed in forth right;
For still to all the gates stood open wide,
Yet charge of them was to a Porter hight
Cald Maluenù, who entrance none denide:
Thence to the hall, which was on euery side
With rich array and costly arras dight:
Infinite sortes of people did abide
There waiting long; to win the wished sight
Of her, that was the Lady of that Pallace bright.
By them they passe, all gazing on them round,
And to the Presence mount; whose glorious vew
Their frayle amazed senses did confound:
In liuing Princes court none euer knew
Such endlesse richesse, and so sumpteous shew;
Ne Persia selfe, the nourse of pompous pride
Like euer saw. And there a noble crew
Of Lords and Ladies stood on euery side,
Which with their presence fayre, the place much beautifide.
High aboue all a cloth of State was spred,
And a rich throne, as bright as sunny day,
On which there sate most braue embellished
With royall robes and gorgeous array,
A mayden Queene, that shone as Titans ray,
In glistring gold, and perelesse pretious stone;
Yet her bright blazing beautie did assay
To dim the brightnesse of her glorious throne,
As enuying her selfe, that too exceeding shone.
Exceeding shone, like Phoebus fayrest childe,
That did presume his fathers fyrie wayne,
And flaming mouthes of steedes vnwonted wilde
Through highest heauen with weaker hand to rayne;
Proud of such glory and aduancement vayne,
While flashing beames do daze his feeble eyen,
He leaues the welkin way most beaten playne,
And rapt with whirling wheeles, inflames the skyen,
With fire not made to burne, but fayrely for to shyne.
So proud she shyned in her princely state,
Looking to heauen; for earth she did disdayne,
And sitting high; for lowly she did hate:
Lo vnder neath her scornefull feete, was layne
[Page 48]A dreadfull Dragon with an hideous trayne,
And in her hand she held a mirrhour bright,
Wherein her face she often vewed fayne,
And in her selfe-lou'd semblance tooke delight;
For she was wondrous faire, as any liuing wight.
Of griesly Pluto she the daughter was,
And sad Proserpina the Queene of hell;
Yet did she thinke her pearelesse worth to pas
That parentage, with pride so did she swell,
And thundring Iove, that high in heauen doth dwell,
And wield the world, she claymed for her syre,
Or if that any else did Ioue excell:
For to the highest she did still aspyre,
Or if ought higher were then that, did it desyre.
And proud Lucifera men did her call,
That made her selfe a Queene, and crownd to be,
Yet rightfull kingdome she had none at all,
Ne heritage of natiue soueraintie,
But did vsurpe with wrong and tyrannie
Vpon the scepter, which she now did hold;
Ne ruld her Realme with lawes, but pollicie,
And strong aduizement of six wisards old,
That with their counsels bad her kingdome did vphold.
Soone as the Elfin knight in presence came,
And false Duessa seeming Lady fayre,
A gentle Husher, Vanitie by name
Made rowme, and passage for them did prepaire:
So goodly brought them to the lowest stayre
Of her high throne, where they on humble knee
Making obeysaunce; did the cause declare,
Why they were come, her roiall state to see,
To proue the wide report of her great Maiestee.
With loftie eyes, halfe loth to looke so lowe,
She thancked them in her disdainefull wise,
Ne other grace vouchsafed them to showe
Of Princesse worthy, scarse them bad arise.
Her Lordes and Ladies all this while deuise
Themselues to setten forth to straungers sight:
Some frounce their curled heare in courtly guise,
Some prancke their ruffes, and others trimly dight
Their gay attyre: each others greater pride does spight.
Goodly they all that knight doe entertayne,
Right glad with him to haue increast their crew;
But to Duess each one himselfe did payne
All kindnesse and faire courtesie to shew;
For in that court whylome her well they knew:
Yet the stout Faery mongst the middest crowd
Thought all their glorie vaine in knightly vew,
And that great Princesse too exceeding prowd,
That to strange knight no better countenance allowd.
Suddein vpriseth from her stately place
The roiall Dame, and for her coche doth call;
All hurtlen forth, and she with princely pace,
As faire Aurora in her purple pall,
Out of the East the dawning day doth call:
So forth she comes: her brightnes brode doth [...];
The heapes of people thronging in the hall,
Doe ride each other, vpon her to gaze:
Her glorious glitter and light doth all mens eies amaze.
So forth she comes, and to her coche does clyme,
Adorned all with gold, and girlonds gay,
That seemd as fresh as Flora in her prime,
And stroue to match, in roiall rich array,
[Page 50]Great [...] golden chayre, the which they say
The Gods stand gazing on, when she does ride
To Ioues high hous through heauens bras paued way
Drawne of fayre Pecocks, that excell in pride,
And full of [...] eyes their tayles dispredden wide.
But this was drawne of six vnequall beasts,
On which her six sage Counsellours did ryde,
Taught to obay their bestiall be heasts,
With like conditions to their kindes applyde:
Of which the first, that all the rest did guyde,
Was sluggish Idlenesse the nourse of sin;
Vpon a slouthfull Asse he chose to ryde,
Arayd in habit blacke, and amis thin,
Like to an holy Monck, the seruice to begin.
And in his hand his Portesse still he bare,
That much was worne, but therein little redd,
For of deuotion he had little care,
Still drownd in sleepe, and most of his daies dedd;
Scarse could he once vphold his heauie hedd,
To looken, whether it were night or day:
May seeme the wayne was very euill ledd,
When such an one had guiding of the way,
That knew not, whether right he went, or else astray.
From worldly cares himselfe he did [...],
And greatly shunned manly exercise,
From [...] worke he chalenged essoyne,
For contemplation sake: yet otherwise,
His life he led in lawlesse riotise;
By which he grew to grieuous malady;
For in his lustlesse limbs through euill guise
A shaking [...] continually:
[...] one was Idlenesse; first of this company.
And by his side rode loathsome Gluttony,
Deformed creature, on a filthie swyne,
His belly was vpblowne with luxury;
And eke with fatnesse swollen were his eyne,
And like a Crane his necke was long and fyne,
With which he swallowd vp excessiue feast,
For want whereof poore people oft did pyne,
And all the way, most like a brutish beast,
He spued vp his gorge, that all did him deteast.
In greene vine leaues he was right fitly clad;
For other clothes he could not weare for heat,
And on his head an yuie girland had,
From vnder which fast trickled downe the sweat:
Still as he rode, he somewhat still did eat,
And in his hand did beare a bouzing can,
Of which he supt so oft, that on his seat
His dronken course he scarse vpholden can,
In shape and life more like a monster, then a man.
Vnfit he was for any wordly thing,
And eke vnhable once to stirre or go,
Not meet to be of counsell to a king,
Whose mind in meat and drinke was drowned so,
That from his frend he seeldome knew his fo:
Full of diseases was his carcas blew,
And a dry dropsie through his flesh did flow,
Which by misdiet daily greater grew:
Such one was Gluttony, the second of that crew.
And next to him rode lustfull Lechery,
Vpon a bearded Gote, whose rugged heare,
And whally eies (the signe of gelosy,)
Was like the person selfe, whom he did beare:
[Page 52]Who rough, and blacke, and filthy did appeare,
Vnseemely man to please faire Ladies eye;
Yet he of Ladies oft was loued deare,
When fairer faces were bid standen by:
O who does know the bent of womens fantasy?
In a greene gowne he clothed was full faire,
Which vnderneath did hide his filthinesse,
And in his hand a burning hart he bare,
Full of vaine follies, and new fanglenesse;
For he was false, and fraught with ficklenesse,
And learned had to loue with secret lookes,
And well could daunce, and sing with ruefulnesse,
And fortunes tell, and read in louing bookes,
And thousand other waies, to bait his fleshly hookes.
Inconstant man, that loued all he saw,
And lusted after all, that he did loue,
Ne would his looser life be tide to law,
But ioyd weake wemens hearts to tempt, and proue
If from their loyall [...] he might them moue;
Which lewdnes fild him with reprochfull pain
Of that foule euill, which all men reproue,
That rotts the marrow, and consumes the braine:
Such one was Lechery, the third of all this traine.
And greedy [...] by him did ride,
Vppon a Camell loaden all with gold;
Two iron coffets hong on either side,
With precious metall full, as they might hold,
And in his lap an heap of coine he told;
For of his wicked pelpe his God he made,
And vnto hell him selfe for money sold;
Accursed vsury was all his trade,
And right and wrong ylike in equall ballaunce waide.
His life was nigh vnto deaths dore yplaste,
And thred-bare cote, and cobled shoes hee ware,
Ne scarse good morsell all his life did taste,
But both from backe and belly still did spare,
To fill his bags, and richesse to compare;
Yet childe ne kinsman liuing had he none
To leaue them to; but thorough daily care
To get, and nightly feare to lose his owne,
He led a wretched life vnto him selfe vnknowne.
Most wretched wight, whom nothing might suffise,
Whose greedy lust did lacke in greatest store,
Whose need had end, but no end couetise,
Whose welth was want, whose plēty made him pore,
Who had enough, yett wished euer more,
A vile disease, and eke in foote and hand
A grieuous gout tormented him full sore,
That well he could not touch, nor goe, nor stand:
Such one was Auarice, the forth of this faire band.
And next to him malicious Enuy rode,
Vpon a rauenous wolfe, and still did chaw
Betweene his cankred teeth a venemous tode,
That all the poison ran about his chaw;
But inwardly he chawed his owne maw
At neibors welth, that made him euer sad;
For death it was, when any good he saw,
And wept, that cause of weeping none he had,
But when he heard of harme, he wexed wondrous glad.
All in a kirtle of discolourd say
He clothed was, ypaynted full of eies;
And in his bosome secretly there lay
An hatefull Snake, the which his taile vptyes
[Page 54]In many folds, and mortall sting implyes.
Still as he rode, he gnasht his teeth, to see
Those heapes of gold with griple Couetyse,
And grudged at the great felicitee
Ofproud Lucifera, and his owne companee.
He hated all good workes and vertuous deeds,
And him no lesse, that any like did vse,
And who with gratious bread the hungry feeds,
His almes for want of faith he doth accuse;
So euery good to bad he doth abuse:
And eke the verse of famous Poets witt
He does backebite, and spightfull poison spues
From leprous mouth on all, that euer writt:
Such one vile Enuy was, that first in row did [...].
And him beside rides fierce reuenging Wrath,
Vpon a Lion, loth for to be led;
And in his hand a burning brond he hath,
The which he brandisheth about his hed;
His eies did hurle forth sparcles fiery red,
And stared sterne on all, that him beheld,
As ashes pale of hew and seeming ded;
And on his dagger still his hand he held,
Trēbling through hasty rage, when choler in him sweld.
His ruffin raiment all was staind with blood,
Which he had spilt; and all to rags yrent,
Through vnaduized rashnes woxen wood;
For of his hands he had no gouernement,
Ne car'd for blood in his auengement:
But when the furious fitt was ouerpast,
His cruell facts he often would repent;
Yet wilfull [...] he [...] would forecast,
How many mischieues should ensue his heedlesse hast.
Full many mischiefes follow oruell Wrath;
Abhorred bloodshed, and tumultuous strife,
Vn manly murder, and [...] scath,
Bitter despight, with rancours rusty knife,
And fretting griefe the enemy of life;
All these, and many euils moe haunt ire,
The swelling Splene, and Frenzy raging rife,
The shaking Palsey, and Saint Fraunces fire:
Such one was Wrath, the last of this vngodly tire.
And after all vpon the wagon beame
Rode Sathan, with a smarting whip in hand,
With which he forward lasht the laesy teme,
So oft as Slowth still in the mire did stand.
Huge routs of people did about them band,
Showting for ioy, and still before their way
A foggy mist had couered all the land;
And vnderneath their feet, all scattered lay
Dead sculls & bones of men, whose life had gone astray.
So forth they marchen in this goodly sort,
To take the solace of the open aire,
And in fresh flowring fields themselues to sport;
Emongst the rest rode that false Lady faire,
The foule Duessa, next vnto the chaire
Ofproud Lucifer', as one of the traine:
But that good knight would not so nigh repaire,
Him selfe estraunging from their ioyaunce vaine,
Whose fellowship seemd far vnfitt for warlike swaine.
So hauing solaced themselues a spacē,
With pleasaunce of the breathing fields yfed,
They backe retourned to the princely Place;
Whereas an errant knight in armes ycled,
[Page 56]And heathnish shield, wherein with letters red
Was writt Sans ioy, they new arriued find:
Enflam'd with fury and fiers hardy hed,
He seemd in hart to harbour thoughts vnkind,
And nourish bloody vengeaunce in his bitter mind.
Who when the shamed shield of slaine Sans foy
He spide with that same Fary champions page,
Bewraying him, that did of late destroy
His eldest brother, burning all with rage
He to him lept, and that same enuious gage
Of victors glory from him snacht away:
But th'Elfin knight, which ought that warlike wage,
Disdaind to loose the meed he wonne in fray,
And him rencountring fierce, reskewd the noble pray.
Therewith they gan to hurtlen greedily,
Redoubted battaile ready to darrayne,
And clash their shields, and shake their swerds on hy,
That with their sturre they troubled all the traine;
Till that great Queene vpon eternall paine
Of high displeasure, that ensewen might,
Commaunded them their fury to refraine,
And if that either to that shield had right,
In equall lists they should the morrow next it fight.
Ah dearest Dame, qd. then the Paynim bold,
Pardon the error of enraged wight,
Whome great griefe made forgett the raines to hold
Of reasons rule, to see this recreaunt knight,
No knight, but treachour full of false despight
And shameful treason, who through guile hath slayn
The prowest knight, that euer field did fight,
Euen stout Sans foy (O who can then refrayn?)
Whose shield he beares renuerst, the more to heap disdayn.
And to augment the glorie of his guile,
His dearest loue the faire Fidessa loe
Is there possessed of the traytour vile,
Who reapes the haruest sowen by his foe,
Sowen in bloodie field, and bought with woe:
That brothers hand shall dearely well requight
So be, O Queene, you equall fauour showe.
Him litle answerd th'angry Elfin knight;
He neuer meant with words, but swords to plead his right.
But threw his gauntlet as a sacred pledg,
His cause in combat the next day to try:
So been they parted both, with harts on edg,
To be aueng'd each on his enimy.
That night they pas in ioy and iollity,
Feasting and courting both in bowre and hall;
For Steward was [...] Gluttony,
That of his plenty poured forth to all;
Which doen, the Chamberlain Slowth did to rest them call.
Now whenas darkesome night had all displayd
Her coleblacke curtein ouer brightest skye,
The warlike youthes on dayntie couches layd,
Did chace away sweet sleepe from sluggish eye,
To muse on meanes of hoped victory.
But whenas Morpheus had with leaden mace,
Arrested all that courtly company,
Vprose Duessa from her resting place,
And to the Paynims lodging comes with silent pace.
Whom broad awake she findes, in troublous fitt,
Forecasting, how his foe he might annoy,
And him amoues with speaches seeming fitt:
Ah deare Sansioy, next dearest to Sansfoy,
[Page 58]Cause of my new griefe, cause of new ioy,
Ioyous, to see his ymage in mine eye,
And greeud, to thinke how foe did him destroy,
That was the flowre of grace and cheualrye;
Lo his [...] to thy secret faith I flye.
With gentle wordes he can her fayrely greet,
And bad say on the secrete of her hart.
Then sighing soft, I learne that litle sweet
Oft tempred is (quoth she) with muchell smart:
For since my brest was launcht with [...] dart
Of deare Sanfoy, I neuer ioyed howre,
But in eternall woes my weaker hatt
Haue wasted, louing him with all my powre,
And for his sake haue felt full many an heauie [...].
At last when perils all I weened past,
And hop'd to reape the crop of all my care,
Into new woes vnweeting I was cast,
By this false faytor, who vnworthie ware
His worthie shield, whom he with guilefull [...]
Entrapped slew, and brought to shamefull graue.
Me silly maid away with him he bare,
And euer since hath kept in darksom caue,
For that I would not yeeld, that to Sansfoy I gaue.
[...] since faire Sunne hath sperst that lowring clowd,
And to my loathed life now shewes some light,
Vnder your beames I will me safely shrowd,
From dreaded storme of his disdainfull spight:
To you th'inheritance belonges by right
Of brothers prayse, to you eke longes his loue.
Let not his loue, let not his restlesse spright,
Be vnreueng'd, that calles to you aboue
From wandring Stygian shores, where it doth endlesse moue.
Thereto said he, faire Dame be nought dismaid
For sorrowes past; their griefe is with them gone:
Ne yet of present perill be affraid:
For needlesse feare did neuer vantage none,
And helplesse hap it booteth not to mone.
Dead is Sansfoy, his vitall paines are past,
Though greeued ghost for vengeance deep do grone
He liues, that shall him pay his dewties last,
And guiltie Elfin blood shall sacrifice in hast:
O But I feare the fickle freakes (quoth shee)
Of fortune false, and oddes of armes in field.
Why dame (quoth he) what oddes can euer bee,
Where both doe fight alike, to win or yield?
Yea but (quoth she) he beares a charmed shield,
And eke enchaunted armes, that none can perce,
Ne none can wound the man, that does them wield.
Charmd or enchaunted (answerd he then ferce)
I no whitt reck, ne you the like need to reherce.
But faire Fidessa, sithens fortunes guile,
Or enimies powre hath now captiued you,
Returne from whence ye came, and rest a while
Till morrow next, that I the Elfe subdew,
And with Sansfoyes dead dowry [...].
Ay me, that is a double death (she said)
With proud foes sight my sorrow to renew:
Where euer yet I be, my secrete aide
Shall follow you. So passing forth she him obaid:
Cant V.
The faithfull knight in equall field
subdewes his faithlesse foe,
Whom false Duessa saues, and for
his cure to hell does goe.
THe noble hart, that harbours vertuous thought,
And is with childe of glorious great intent,
Can neuer rest, vntill it forth haue brought
Th'eternall brood of glorie excellent:
Such restlesse passion did all night torment
The flaming corage of that Faery knight,
Deuizing, how that doughtie turnament
With greatest honour he atchieuen might;
Still did he wake, and still did watch for dawning light,
At last the golden Orientall gate
Of greatest heauen gan to open fayre,
And Phoebus fresh, as brydegrome to his mate,
Came dauncing forth, shaking his deawie hayre:,
And hurls his glistring beams through gloomy ayre.
Which whē the wakeful Elfe perceiud, streight way
He started vp, and did him selfe prepayre,
In sunbright armes, and battailous array:
For with that Pagan proud he combatt will that day.
And forth he comes into the commune hall,
Where earely waite him many a gazing eye,
To weet what end to straunger knights may fall.
There many Minstrales maken melody,
[Page 61]To driue away the dull melancholy,
And many Bardes, that to the trembling chord
Can tune their timely voices cunningly,
And many Chroniclers, that can record
Old loues, and warres for Ladies doen by many a Lord.
Soone after comes the cruell Sarazin,
In wouen maile all armed warily,
And sternly lookes at him, who not a pin
Does care for looke of liuing creatures eye.
They bring them wines of Greece and Araby,
And daintie spices fetcht from furthest Ynd,
To kindle heat of corage priuily:
And in the wine a solemne oth they bynd
T'obserue the facred lawes of armes, that are assynd.
At last forth comes that far renowmed Queene,
With royall pomp and princely maiestie;
She is ybrought vnto a paled greene,
And placed vnder stately canapee,
The warlike feates of both thofe knights to see.
On th'other side in all mens open vew
Duessa placed is, and on a tree
Sansfoy his shield is hangd with bloody hew:
Both those the lawrell girlonds to the victor dew.
A shrilling trompett sownded from on hye,
And vnto battaill bad them selues addresse:
Their shining shieldes about their wrestes they tye,
And burning blades about their heades doe blesse,
The instruments of wrath and heauinesse:
With greedy force each other doth assayle,
And strike so fiercely, that they doe impresse
Deepe dinted furrowes in the battred mayle:
The yron walles to ward their blowes are weak & fraile.
The Sarazin was stout and wondrous strong,
And heaped blowes like [...] hammers [...]:
For after blood and vengeance he did long.
The knight was fiers, and full of youthly heat,
And doubled strokes, like dreaded thunders threat:
For all for praise and honour he did fight.
Both stricken stryke, and beaten both doe beat,
That from their shields forth flyeth firie light,
And hewen helmets deepe shew marks of eithers might.
So th'one for wrong, the other striues for right:
As when a Gryfon seized of his pray,
A Dragon fiers encountreth in his flight,
Through widest ayre making his ydle way,
That would his rightfull rauine rend away:
With hideous horror both together smight,
And souce so sorc, that they the heauens affray:
The wise Southsayer seeing so sad sight,
Th'amazed vulgartelles of warres and mortall fight.
So th'onc for wrong the other striues for right,
And each to deadly shame would driue his foe:
The cruell steele so greedily doth bight
In tender flesh, that streames of blood down flow,
With which the armes, that earst so bright did show
Into a pure vermillion now are dyde:
Great ruth in all the gazers harts did grow,
Seeing the gored woundes to gape so wyde,
That victory they dare not wish to either side.
At last the Paynim chaunst [...] cast his eye,
His suddein eye, flaming with wrathfull fyre,
Vpon his brothers shield, which hong thereby:
There with redoubled was his raging yre,
[Page 63]And said, Ah wretched sonne of wofull syre,
Doest thou sit wayling by blacke Stygian lake,
Whylest here thy shield is hangd for victors hyre,
And sluggish german doest thy forces slake,
To after-send his foe, that him may ouertake?
Goe caytiue Elfe, him quickly ouertake,
And soone redeeme from his long wandring woe,
Goe guiltie ghost, to him my message make,
That I his shield haue quit from dying foe.
Therewith vpon his crest he stroke him so,
That twise he reeled, readie twise to fall;
End of the doubtfull battaile deemed tho
The lookers on, and lowd to him gan call
The false Duessa, Thine the shield, and I, and all.
Soone as the Faerie heard his Ladie speake,
Out of his swowning dreame he gan awake,
And quickning faith, that earst was woxen weake,
The creeping deadly cold away did shake:
Tho mou'd with wrath, and shame, and Ladies sake,
Of all attonce he cast auengd to be,
And with so' exceeding furie at him strake,
That forced him to stoupe vpon his knee;
Had he not stouped so, he should haue clouen bee.
And to him said, Goe now proud Miscreant,
Thy selfe thy message do to german deare,
Alone he wandring thee too long doth want:
Goe say, his foe thy shield with his doth beare.
Therewith his heauie [...] he high gan reare,
Him to haue slaine; when lo a darkesome clowd
Vpon him fell: he no where doth appeare,
But [...] is. The [...] him calls [...],
But answer none receiues: the darknes him does shrowd
In haste Duessa from her place arose,
And to him running sayd, O prowest knight,
That euer Ladie to her loue did chose,
Let now abate the terrour of your might,
And quench the flame of furious despight,
And bloodie vengeance; lo th'infernall powres
Couering your foe with cloud of deadly night,
Haue borne him hence to Plutoes balefull bowres.
The conquest yours, I yours, the shield, and glory yours.
Not all so satisfide, with greedy eye
He sought all round about, his thristy blade
To bathe in blood of faithlesse enimy;
Who all that while lay hid in secret shade:
He standes amazed, how he thence should fade.
At last the trumpets Triumph sound on hie,
And running Heralds humble homage made,
Greeting him goodly with new victorie,
And to him brought the shield, the cause of enmitie.
Wherewith he goeth to that soueraine Queene,
And falling her before on lowly knee,
To her makes present of his seruice seene:
Which she accepts, with thankes, and goodly gree,
Greatly aduauncing his gay cheualree.
So marcheth home, and by her takes the knight,
Whom all the people followe with great glee,
Shouting, and clapping all their hands on hight,
That all the ayre it fils, and flyes to heauen bright.
Home is he brought, and layd in sumptuous bed:
Where many skilfull leaches him abide,
To salue his hurts, that yet still freshly bled.
In wine and oyle they wash his woundes wide,
[Page 65]And softly gan embalme on euerie side.
And all the while, most heauenly melody
About the bed sweet musicke did diuide,
Him to beguile of griefe and agony:
And all the while Duessa wept full bitterly.
As when a wearie traueiler that strayes
By muddy shore of broad seuen-mouthed Nile,
Vnweeting of the perillous wandring wayes,
Doth meete a cruell craftie Crocodile,
Which in false griefe hyding his harmefull guile,
Doth weepe full sore, and sheddeth tender teares:
The foolish man, that pitties all this while
His mournefull plight, is swallowd vp vnwares,
Forgetfull of his owne, that mindes an others cares.
So wept Duessa vntill euentyde,
That shyning lampes in Ioues high house were light:
Then forth she rose, [...] lenger would abide,
But comes vnto the place, where th'Hethen knight
In slombring swownd nigh voyd of vitall spright,
Lay couer'd with inchaunted cloud all day:
Whom when she found, as she him left in plight,
To wayle his wofull case she would not stay,
But to the Easterne coast of heauen makes speedy way.
Where griesly Night, with visage deadly sad,
That Phoebus chearefull face durst neuer vew,
And in a foule blacke pitchy mantle clad,
She findes forth comming from her darksome mew,
Where she all day did hide her hated hew.
Before the dore her yron charet stood,
Already harnessed for iourney new;
And coleblacke steedes yborne of hellish brood,
That on their rusty bits did champ, as they were wood.
Who when she saw Duessa sunny bright,
Adornd with gold and iewels shining cleare,
She greatly grew amazed at the sight,
And th'vnacquainted light began to feare:
For neuer did such brightnes there appeare,
And would haue backe retyred to her caue,
Vntill the witches speach she gan to heare,
Saying, yet O thou dreaded Dame, I craue
Abyde, till I haue told the message, which I haue.
She stayd, and foorth Duessa gan proceede,
O thou most auncient Grandmother of all,
More old then Ioue, whom thou at first didst breede,
Or that great house of Gods caelestiall,
Which wast begot in Daemogorgons hall,
And sawst the secrets of the world vnmade,
Why suffredst thou thy Nephewes deare to fall
With Elfin sword, most shamefully betrade?
Lo where the stout Sansioy doth sleepe in deadly shade.
And him before, I saw with bitter eyes
The bold Sansfoy shrinck vnderneath his speare;
And now the pray of fowles in field he lyes,
Nor wayld of friends, nor layd on groning beare,
That whylome was to me too dearely deare.
O what of Gods then boots it to be borne,
If old Aveugles sonnes so cuill heare?
Or who shall not great Nightes children scorne,
When two of three her Nephews are so fowle forlorne.
Vp then, vp dreary Dame, of darknes Queene,
Go gather vp the reliques of thy race,
Or else goe them auenge, and let be seene,
That dreaded Night in brightest day hath place,
[Page 67]And can the children of fayre light deface.
Her feeling speaches some [...] mou'd
In hart, and chaunge in that great mothers face:
Yet pitty in her hart was neuer prou'd
Till then: for euermore she hated, neuer lou'd.
And said, Deare daughter rightly may I rew
The fall of famous children borne of mee,
And good successes, which their foes ensew:
But who can turne the streame of destinee,
Or breake the chayne of strong necessitee,
Which fast is tyde to Ioues eternall seat.
The sonnes of Day he fauoureth, I see,
And by my ruines thinkes to make them great:
To make one great by others losse, is bad excheat.
Yet shall they not escape so freely all;
For some shall pay the price of others guilt:
And he the man that made Sansfoy to fall,
Shall with his owne blood price, that he hath spilt.
But what art thou, that telst of Nephews kilt?
I that do seeme not I, Duessa ame,
Quoth she, how euer now in garments gilt,
And gorgeous gold arayd I to thee came;
Duessa I, the daughter of Deceipt and Shame.
Then bowing downe her aged backe, she kist
The wicked witch, saying, In that fayre face
The false resemblaunce of Deceipt, I wist
Did closely lurke; yet so true-seeming grace
It carried, that I scarse in darksome place
Could it discerne, though I the mother bee
Of fashood, and roote of Duessaes race.
O welcome child, whom I haue longd to see,
And now haue seene vnwares. Lo now I goe with thee.
Then to her yron wagon she betakes,
And with her beares the fowle welfauourd witch:
Through mirkesome aire her ready way she makes.
Her twyfold Teme, of which two blacke as pitch,
And two were browne, yet each to each vnlich,
Did softly swim away, ne euer stamp,
Vnlesse she chaūst their stubborne mouths to twitch;
Then foming tarre, their bridles they would champ,
And trampling the fine element, would fiercely ramp.
So well they sped, that they be come at length
Vnto the place, whereas the Paynim lay,
Deuoid of outward sence, and natiue strength,
Couerd with charmed cloud from vew of day,
And sight of men, since his late luckelesse fray.
His cruell wounds with cruddy bloud congeald,
They binden vp so wisely, as they may,
And handle softly, till they can be heald:
So lay him in her charett, close in night conceald.
And all the while she stood vpon the grouud,
The wakefull dogs did neuer cease to bay,
As giuing warning of th'vnwonted sound,
With which her yron wheeles did them affray,
And her darke griesly looke them much dismay;
The messenger of death, the ghastly owle
With drery shriekes did also her bewray;
And hungry wolues continually did howle,
At her abhorred face, so filthy and so fowle.
Thence turning backe in silence softe they stole,
And brought the heauy corse with easy pace
To yawning gulfe of deepe Auernus hole.
By that same hole an entraunce darke and bace
[Page 69]With smoake and sulphur hiding all the place,
Descends to hell: there creature neuer past,
That backe retourned without heauenly grace;
But dreadfull Furies, which their chaines haue brast,
And damned sprights sent forth to make ill men aghast.
By that same way the direfull dames doe driue
Their mournefull charett, fild with rusty blood,
And downe to Plutoes house are come biliue:
Which passing through, on euery side them stood
The trembling ghosts with sad amazed mood,
Chattring their iron teeth, and staring wide
With stony eies; and all the hellish brood
Of feends infernall flockt on euery side,
To gaze on erthly wight, that with the Night durst ride.
They pas the bitter waues of Acheron,
Where many soules sit wailing woefully,
And come to fiery flood of Phlegeton,
Whereas the damned ghosts in torments fry,
And with sharp shrilling shriekes doe bootlesse cry,
Cursing high Ioue, the which them thither sent.
The house of endlesse paine is built thereby,
In which ten thousand sorts of punishment
The cursed creatures doe eternally torment.
Before the threshold dreadfull Cerberus
His three deformed heads did lay along,
Curled with thousand adders venemous,
And lilled forth his bloody flaming tong:
At them he gan to reare his bristles strong,
And felly gnarre, vntill Dayes enemy
Did him appease; then downe his taile he hong
And suffered them to passen quietly:
For she in hell and heauen had power equally.
There was Ixion turned on a wheele,
For daring tempt the Queene of heauen to sin;
And Sisyphus an huge round stone did reele
Against an hill, ne might from labour lin;
There thristy Tantalus hong by the chin;
And Tityus fed a vultur on his maw;
Typhoeus ioynts were stretched on a gin,
Theseus condemned to endlesse slouth by law
And fifty sisters water in lete vessels draw.
They all beholding worldly wights in place,
Leaue off their worke, vnmindfull of their smart,
To gaze on them; who forth by them doe pace,
Till they become vnto the furthest part:
Where was a Cauey wrought by wondrous art,
Deepe, darke, vneasy, dolefull, comfortlesse,
In which sad Aesculapius far apart
Emprisond was in chaines remedilesse,
For that Hippolytus rent corse he did redresse.
Hippolytus a iolly huntsman was,
That wont in charett chace the foming bore;
He all his Peeres in beauty did surpas,
But Ladies loue as losse of time forbore:
His wanton stepdame loued him the more,
But when she saw her offred sweets refusd
Her loue she turnd to hate, and him before
His father fierce of treason false accusd,
And with her gealous termes his open eares abusd.
Who all in rage his Sea-god syre besought,
Some cursed vengeaunce on his sonne to cast:
Frō surging gulf two Mōsters streight were brought,
With dread whereof his chacing steedes aghast,
[Page 71]Both charett swifte and huntsman ouercast.
His goodly corps on ragged clifts yrent,
Was quite dismembred, and his members chast
Scattered on euery mountaine, as he went,
That of Hippolytus was lefte no moniment.
His cruell stepdame seeing what was donne,
Her wicked daies with wretched knife did end,
In death auowing th'innocence of her sonne.
Which hearing his rash Syre, began to rend
His heare, and hasty tong, that did offend:
Tho gathering vp the relicks of his smart
By Dianes meanes, who was Hippolyts frend,
Them brought to Aesculape, that by his art
Did heale them all againe, and ioyned euery part.
Such wondrous science in mans witt to rain
When Ioue auizd, that could the dead reviue,
And fates expired could renew again,
Of endlesse life he might him not depriue,
But vnto hell did thrust him downe aliue,
With flashing thunderbolty wounded sore:
Where long remaining, he did alwaies striue
Him selfe with salues to health for to restore,
And slake the heauenly sire, that raged euermore.
There auncient Night arriuing, did alight
From her nigh weary wayne, and in her armes
To AEsculapius brought the wounded knight:
Whome hauing softly disaraid of armes,
Tho gan to him discouer all his harmes,
Beseeching him with prayer, and with praise,
If either salues, or oyles, or herbes, or charmes
A for donne wight from dore of death mote raise,
He would at her request prolong her nephews daies.
Ah Dame (qd. he) thou temptest me in vaine,
To dare the thing, which daily yet I rew,
And the old cause of my continued paine
With like attempt to like end to renew.
Is not enough, that thrust from heauen dew
Here endlesse penaunce for one fault I pay,
But that redoubled crime with vengeaunce new
Thou biddest me to eeke? Can Night defray
The wrath of thundring Ioue, that rules both night and day?
Not so (qd. she) but sith that heauens king
From hope of heauen hath thee excluded quight,
Why fearest thou, that canst not hope for thing,
And fearest not, that more thee hurten might,
Now in the powre of euerlasting Night?
Goe to then, O thou far renouned sonne
Of great Apollo, shew thy famous might
In medicine, that els hath to thee wonne
Great pains, and greater praise, both neuer to be donne.
Her words preuaild: And then the learned leach
His cunning hand gan to his wounds to lay,
And all things els, the which his art did teach:
Which hauing seene, from thence arose away
The mother of dredd darkenesse, and let stay
Aueugles sonne there in the leaches cure,
And backe retourning tooke her wonted way,
To ronne her timely race, whilst Phoebus pure
In westerne waues his weary wagon did recure.
The false Duessa leauing noyous Night,
Returnd to stately pallace of Dame Pryde;
Where when she came, she found the Faery knight
Departed thence, albee his woundes wyde
[Page 73]Not throughly heald, vnready were to ryde.
Good cause he had to hasten thence away;
For on a day his wary Dwarfe had spyde,
Where in a dungeon deepe huge nombers lay
Of caytiue wretched thralls, that wayled night and day.
A ruefull sight, as could be seene with eie;
Of whom he learned had in secret wise
The hidden cause of their captiuitie,
How mortgaging their liues to Couetise,
Through wastfull Pride, and wanton Riotise,
They were by law of that proud Tyrannesse
Prouokt with Wrath, and Enuyes false surmise,
Condemned to that Dongeon mercilesse,
Where they should liue in wo, & dye in wretchednesse.
There was that great proud king of Babylon,
That would [...] all nations to adore,
And him as onely God to call vpon,
Till through celestiall doome thrown out of dore,
Into an Oxe he was transformd of yore:
There also was king Croesus, that enhaunst
His hart too high through his great richesse store;
And proud Antiochus, the which aduaunst
His cursed hand gainst God, and on his altares daunst.
And them long time before, great Nimrod was,
That first the world with sword and fire warrayd;
And after him old Ninus far did pas
In princely pomp, of all the world obayd;
There also was that mightie Monarch layd
Low vnder all, yet aboue all in pride,
That name of natiue syre did fowle vpbrayd,
And would as Ammons sonne be magnifide,
Till scornd of God and man a shamefull death he dide.
All these together in one heape were throwne,
Like carkases of beastes in butchers stall.
And in another corner wide were strowne
The Antique ruins of the Romanes fall:
Great Romulus the Grandsyre of them all,
Proud Tarquin, and too lordly Lentulus,
Stout Scipio, and stubborne Hanniball,
Ambitious Sylla, and sterne Marius,
High Caesar, great Pompey, and fiers Antonius.
Amongst these mightie men were wemen mixt,
Proud wemen, vaine, forgetfull of their yoke:
The bold Semiramis, whose sides transfixt
With sonnes own blade, her fowle reproches spoke;
Fayre Sthenoboea, that herselfe did choke
With wilfull chord, for wanting of her will;
High minded Cleopatra, that with stroke
Of Aspes sting herselfe did stoutly kill:
And thousands moe the like, that did that dongeon fill
Besides the endlesse routes of wretched thralles,
Which thether were assembled day by day,
From all the world after their wofull falles,
Through wicked [...], and wasted welthes decay.
But most of all, which in the Dongeon lay
Fell from high Princes courtes, or Ladies bowres,
Where they in ydle pomp, or wanton play,
Consumed had their goods, and thriftlesse howres,
And lastly thrown themselues into these heauy stowres.
Whose case whenas the carefull Dwarfe had tould,
And made ensample of their mournfull sight
Vnto his maister, he no lenger would
There dwell in perill of like painefull plight,
[Page 75]But earely rose, and ere that dawning light
Discouered had the world to heauen wyde,
He by a priuy Posterne tooke his flight,
That of no enuious eyes he mote be spyde:
For doubtlesse death ensewed, if any him descryde.
Scarse could he footing find in that fowle way,
For many corses, like a great Lay-stall
Of murdred men which therein strowed lay,
Without remorse, or decent funerall:
Which al through that great Princesse pride did fall
And came to shamefull end. And them besyde
Forth ryding vnderneath the castell wall,
A Donghill of dead carcases he spyde,
The dreadfull spectacle of that sad house of Pryde.
Can. VI.
From lawlesse lust by wondrous grace
fayre Una is releast:
Whom saluage nation does adore,
and learnes her wise beheast.
AS when a ship, that flyes fayre vnder sayle,
An hidden rocke escaped hath vnwares,
That lay in waite her [...] for to [...] waile,
The Marriner yet halfe amazed stares
At perill past, and yet it doubt ne dares
To ioy at his foolhappie ouersight:
So doubly is distrest twixt ioy and cares
The dreadlesse corage of this Elfin knight,
Hauing escapt so sad ensamples in his sight.
Yet sad he was, that his too hastie speed
The fayre Duess' had forst him leaue behind;
And yet more sad, that Vna his deare dreed
Her truth had staynd with treason so vnkind:
Yet cryme in her could neuer creature find,
But for his loue, and for her own selfe sake,
She wandred had from one to other Ynd,
Him for to seeke, ne euer would forsake,
Till her vnwares the fiers Sansloy did ouertake.
Who after Archimagoes fowle defeat,
Led her away into a forest wilde,
And turning wrathfull fyre to lustfull [...],
With beastly sin thought her to haue defilde,
And made the vassall of his pleasures vilde.
Yet first he cast by treatie, and by traynes,
Her to persuade, that stubborne fort to yilde:
For greater conquest of hard loue he gaynes,
That workes it to his will, then he that it constraines.
With fawning wordes he courted her a while,
And looking louely, and oft sighing sore,
Her constant hart did tempt with diuerse guile:
But wordes, and lookes, and sighes she did abhore,
As rock of Diamond stedfast euermore.
Yet for to feed his fyrie lustfull eye,
He snatcht the vele, that hong her face before;
Then gan her beautie shyne, as brightest skye,
And burnt his beastly hart t'efforce her chastitye.
So when he saw his flatt'ring artes to fayle,
And subtile engines bett from batteree,
With greedy force he gan the fort assayle,
Whereof he weend possesse soone to bee,
[Page 77]And win rich spoile of ransackt chastitee.
Ah heauens, that doe this hideous act behold,
And heauenly virgin thus outraged see,
How can ye vengeance iust so long withhold,
And hurle not flashing flames vpō that Paynim bold?
The pitteous mayden carefull comfortlesse,
Does throw out thrilling shriekes, and shrieking cryes,
The last vaine helpe of wemens great distresse,
And with loud plaintes importuneth the skyes,
That molten starres doe drop like weeping eyes;
And Phoebus flying so most shamefull sight,
His blushing face in foggy cloud implyes,
And hydes for shame. What witt of mortall wight
Can now deuise to quitt a thrall from such a plight?
Eternall prouidence exceeding thought,
Where none appeares can make her selfe a way:
A wondrous way it for this Lady wrought,
From Lyons clawes to pluck the gryped pray.
Her shrill outcryes and shrieks so loud did bray,
That all the woodes and forestes did resownd;
A troupe of Faunes and Satyres far a way
Within the wood were dauncing in a rownd,
Whiles old Syluanus slept in shady arber sownd,
Who when they heard that pitteous strained voice,
In haste forsooke their rurall meriment,
And ran towardes the far rebownded noyce,
To weet, what wight so loudly did lament.
Vnto the place they come incontinent:
Whom when the raging Sarazin espyde,
A rude, mishappen, monstrous rablement,
Whose like he neuer saw, he durst not byde,
But got his ready steed, and fast away gan ryde.
The wyld woodgods arriued in the place,
There find the virgin doolfull desolate,
With ruffled rayments, and fayre blubbred face,
As her outrageous foe had left her late,
And trembling yet through feare of former hate;
All stand amazed at so vncouth sight,
And gin to pittie her vnhappie state,
All stand astonied at her beautie bright,
In their rude eyes vnworthy of so wofull plight.
She more amazd, in double dread doth dwell;
And euery tender part for feare does shake:
As when a greedy Wolfe through honger fell
A seely Lamb far from the flock does take,
Of whom he meanes his bloody feast to make,
A Lyon spyes fast running towards him,
The innocent pray in hast he does forsake,
Which quitt from death yet quakes in euery lim
With chaunge of feare, to see the Lyon looke so grim.
Such fearefull fitt assaid her trembling hart,
Ne word to speake, ne ioynt to moue she had:
The saluage nation feele her secret smart,
And read her sorrow in her count'nance sad;
Their frowning forheades with rough hornes yclad,
And rustick horror all a syde doe lay,
And gently grenning, shew a semblance glad
To comfort her, and feare to put away,
Their backward bent knees teach her humbly to obay.
The doubtfull Damzell dare not yet committ,
Her single person to their barbarous truth,
But still twixt feare and hope amazd does sitt,
Late learnd what harme to hasty trust ensu'th,
[Page 81]They in compassion of her [...] der youth,
And wonder of her beautie so uerayne,
Are wonne with pitty and vnwonted ruth,
And all prostrate vpon the lowly playne,
Doe kisse her feete, and fawne on her with count'nance fayne.
Their harts she [...] by their humble guise,
And yieldes her to extremitie of time;
So from the ground she fearelesse doth arise,
And walketh forth without suspect of crime:
They all as glad, as birdes ofioyous Pryme,
Thence lead her [...], about her [...] round,
Shouting, and [...] all a shepheards ryme,
And with greene braunches strowing all the ground,
Do worship her, as Queene, with oliue girlond cround.
And all the way their merry pipes they sound,
That all the woods with doubled Eccho ring,
And with their horned feet doe weare the ground,
Leaping like wanton kids in pleasant Spring.
So towards old Syluanus they her bring;
Who with the noyse awaked, commeth out,
To weet the cause, his weake steps gouerning,
And aged limbs on Cypresse stadle stout,
And with an yuie twyne his waste is girt about.
Far off he wonders, what them makes so glad
[...] Bacchus merry [...] they did inuent,
Or Cybeles frantickerites haue made them mad;
They drawing nigh, vnto their God present
That flowre of fayth and beautie excellent:
The God himselfe vewing that mirrhour rare,
Stood long amazd, and burnt in his intent;
His owne fayre Dryope now he thinkes not faire,
And Pholoe fowle, when her to this he doth compaire.
The woodborne people [...] before her flat,
And worship her as Goddesse of the wood;
And old [...] selfe [...] not, what
To thinke of [...] so fayre, but gazing stood,
In doubt to [...] her borne of earthly brood;
Sometimes Dame Venus selfe he seemes to see,
But Venas neuer [...] mood;
Sometimes [...] he her takes to be,
But misseth bow, and [...], and buskins to her [...].
By vew of her he ginneth to [...]
His ancient loue, and dearest Cyparisse,
And calles to mind his [...] aliue,
How fayre he was, and yet not fayre to this,
And how he slew with glauncing dart amisse
A gentle Hynd, the which the louely boy
Did loue as life, aboue all worldly blisse;
For griefe whereof the lad n'ould after [...],
But pynd away in anguish and selfewild [...].
The wooddy Nymphes, faire Hamadryades
Her to behold do thether runne apace,
And all the troupe of light foot Naiades,
Flocke all about to see her louely face:
But when they vewed haue her heauenly grace,
They enuy her in their malitious mind,
And fly away for feare offowle disgrace:
But all the [...] [...] their woody kind,
And henceforth nothing faire, but her on earth they find
Glad of such lucke, the luckelesse lucky mayd,
Did her content to please their feeble eyes,
And long time with that saluage people stayd,
To gather breath in many miseryes.
[Page 81]During which time her gentle wit she plyes,
To teach them truth, which worshipt her in vaine,
And made her th'Image of Idolatryes;
But when their bootlesse zeale she did restrayne
Frō her own worship, they her Asse would worship fayn.
It fortuned a noble warlike knight
By iust occasion to that forrest came,
To seeke his kindred, and the lignage right,
From whence he tooke his weldeserued name:
He had in armes abroad wonne muchell fame,
And fild far landes with glorie of his might,
Plaine, faithfull, true, and enimy of shame,
And euer lou'd to fight for Ladies right,
But in vaine glorious frayes he litle did delight.
A Satyres sonne yborne in forrest wyld,
By straunge aduenture as it did betyde,
And there begotten of a Lady myld,
Fayre Thyamis the daughter of Labryde,
That was in sacred bandes of wedlocke tyde
To Therion, a loose vnruly swayne;
Who had more ioy to raunge the forrest wyde,
And chase the saluage beast with busie payne,
Then serue his Ladies loue, & waste in pleasures vayne.
The forlorne mayd did with [...] longing burne,
And could not lacke her louers company,
But to the wood shè goes, to serue her turne,
And seeke her spouse, that from her still does fly,
And followes other game and venery:
A Satyre chaunst her wandring for to finde,
And kindling coles of lust in brutish eye,
The loyall linkes of wedlocke did vnbinde,
And made her person thrall vnto his beastly kind.
So long in [...] there be held
Her [...] to his [...] desyre,
Till that with timely [...] her belly sweld,
And bore a boy vnto that saluage syre:
Then home he [...] her for to retyre,
For ransome leauing him the late-borne childe;
Whom till to [...] yeares he [...] aspyre,
He nousled vp in life and manners wilde,
Emongst wild beastes and woods, from lawes of men exilde.
For all he taught the [...]:
To [...] cowardize and bastard feare;
His trembling hand he would him force to put
Vpon the Lyon and the rugged Beare,
And from the she Beares teats her whelps to teare;
And eke wyld roring Buls he would him make
To tame, and [...] their backes not made to beare;
And the Robuckes in flight to ouertake,
That euerie beast for feare of him did fly and quake.
Thereby so fearelesse, and so fell he grew,
That his owne [...] and maister of his guise
Did often tremble at his horrid vew,
And oft for dread of hurt would him aduise,
The angry beastes not rashly to despise,
Nor too much to prouoke: for he would learne
The Lyon stoup to him in lowly wife;
(A lesson hard) and make the [...] sterne
Leaue roaring, when in rage he for reuenge did earne.
And for to make his powre approued more,
Wyld beastes in yron yokes he would compell;
The spotted Panther, and the [...] Bore,
The Pardale swift, and the Tigre cruell;
[Page 85]The Antelope, and Wolfe both swift and cruell;
And them constraine in equall teme to draw.
Such ioy he had, their stubborne harts to quell,
And sturdie courage tame with dreadfull aw,
That his beheast they feared, as a tyrans law.
His louing mother came vpon a day
Vnto the woodes, to see her little sonne;
And chaunst vnwares to meet him in the way,
After his sportes, and cruell pastime donne,
When after him a Lyonesse did runne,
That roaring all with rage, did lowd requere
Her children deare, whom he away had wonne:
The Lyon whelpes she saw how he did beare,
And lull in rugged armes, withouten childish feare.
The fearefull Dame all quaked at the sight,
And turning backe, gan fast to fly away,
Vntill with loue reuokt from vaine affright,
She hardly yet perswaded was to stay,
And then to him these womanish words gan say;
Ah Satyrane, my dearling, and my ioy,
For loue of me leaue off this dreadfull play;
To dally thus with death, is no fit toy,
Go find some other play-fellowes, mine own sweet boy.
In these and like delightes of bloody game
He trayned was, till ryper yeares he raught,
And there abode, whylst any beast of name
Walkt in that forrest, whom he had not taught,
To feare his force: and then his courage haught
Desyrd of forreine foemen to be knowne,
And far abroad for straunge aduentures sought:
In which his might was neuer ouerthrowne,
But through al Faery lond his famous worth was blown
Yet euermore it was his maner faire,
After long labours and aduentures spent,
Vnto those natiue woods for to repaire,
To see his syre and ofspring auncient.
And now he thether came for like intent;
Where he vnwares the fairest Vna found,
Sraunge Lady, in so straunge habiliment,
Teaching the Satyres, which her sat around
Trew sacred lore, which frō her sweet lips did redound.
He wondred at her wisedome heuenly rare,
Whose like in womens witt he neuer knew;
And when her cutteous deeds he did compare,
Gan her admire, and her sad sorrowes rew,
Blaming of Fortune, which such troubles threw,
And ioyd to make proofe of her cruelty
On gentle Dame, so hurtlesse, and so trew:
Thenceforth he kept her goodly company,
And learnd her discipline of faith and verity.
But she all vowd vnto the Redcrosse knight,
His wandring perill closely did lament,
Ne in this new acquaintaunce could delight,
But her deare heart with anguish did torment,
And all her witt in secret counsels spent,
How to escape. At last in priuy wise
To Satyrane she shewed her intent;
Who glad to gain such fauour, gan deuise,
How with that pensiue Maid he best might thence arise.
So on a day when Satyres all were gone,
To doe their seruice to Syluanus old,
The gentle virgin left behinde alone
He led away with corage stout and bold.
[Page 85]Too late it was, to Satyres to be told,
Or euer hope recouer her againe:
In vaine he seekes that hauing cannot hold.
So fast he carried her with carefull paine,
That they the wods are past, & come now to the plaine.
The better part now of the lingring day,
They traueild had, whenas they far espide
A weary wight for wandring by the way,
And towards him they gan in hast to ride,
To weete of newes, that did abroad betide,
Or tidings of her knight of the Redcrosse.
But he them spying, gan to turne aside,
For feare as seemd, or for some feigned losse;
More greedy they of newes, fast towards him do crosse.
A silly man, in simple weeds forworne,
And soild with dust of the long dried way;
His sandales were with to ilsome trauell torne,
And face all tand with scorching sunny ray,
As he had traueild many a sommers day,
Through boyling sands of Arabie and Ynde;
And in his hand a Iacobs staffe, to stay
His weary limbs vpon: and eke behind,
His scrip did hang, in which his needments he did bind.
The knight approching nigh, of him inquerd
Tidings of warre, and of aduentures new;
But warres, nor new aduentures none he herd.
Then Vna gan to aske, if ought he knew,
Or heard abroad of that her champion trew,
That in his armour bare a croslet red.
Ay me, Deare dame (qd. he) well may I rew
To tell the sad sight, which mine eies haue red:
These eies did see that knight both liuing, and eke ded.
That cruell word her tender hart so thrild,
That suddein cold did ronne through euery vaine,
And stony horrour all her sences fild
With dying fitt, that downe she fell for paine.
The knight her lightly reared vp againe,
And comforted with curteous kind reliefe:
Then wonne from death, she bad him tellen plaine
The further processe of her hidden griefe;
The lesser pangs can beare, who hath endur'd the chief.
Then gan the Pilgrim thus, I chaunst this day,
This fatall day, that shall I euer rew,
To see two knights in trauell on my way
(A sory sight) arraung'd in batteill new,
Both breathing vengeaunce, both of wrathfull hew:
My feareful flesh did tremble at their strife,
To see their blades so greedily imbrew,
That dronke with blood, yet thristed after life:
What more? the Redcrosse knight was slain with Paynim knife.
Ah dearest Lord (qd. she) how might that bee,
And he the stoutest knight, that euer wonne?
Ah dearest dame (qd. hee) how migh I see
The thing, that might not be, and yet was donne?
Where is (said Satyrane) that Paynims sonne,
That him of life, and vs of ioy hath refte?
Not far away (qd. she) he hence doth wonne
Foreby a fountaine, where I late him lefte
Washing his bloody wounds, that through the fteele were cleft.
Therewith the knight thence marched forth in hast,
Whiles Vna with huge [...] opprest,
Could not for sorrow follow him so fast;
And soone he came, as he the place had ghest,
[Page 89]Whereas that Pagan proud him selfe did rest,
In secret shadow by a fountaine side:
Euen he it was, that earst would haue supprest
Faire Vna: whom when Satyrane espide,
With foule reprochfull words he boldly him defide.
And said, Arise thou cursed Miscreaunt,
That hast with knightlesse guile and trecherous train
Faire knighthood fowly shamed, and doest vaunt
That good knight of the Redcrosse to haue slain:
Arise, and with like treason now maintain
Thy guilty wrong, or els thee guilty yield.
The Sarazin this hearing, rose amain,
And catching vp in hast his three square shield,
And shining helmet, soone him buckled to the field.
And drawing nigh him said, Ah misborn Elfe,
In euill houre thy foes thee hither sent,
Anothers wrongs to wreak vpon thy selfe:
Yet ill thou blamest me, for hauing blent
My name with guile and traiterous intent;
That Redcrosse knight, perdie, I neuer slew,
But had he beene, where earst his armes were lent,
Th'enchaunter vaine his errour should notrew:
But thou his errour shalt, I hope now prouen trew.
Therewith they gan, both furious and fell,
To thunder blowes, and fiersly to assaile
Each other, bent his enimy to quell,
That with their force they perst both plate & maile,
And made wide furrowes in their fleshes fraile,
That it would pitty any liuing eie.
Large floods of blood adowne their sides did raile;
But floods of blood could not them satisfie:
Both hongred after death: both chose to win, or die.
So long they fight, and full reuenge pursue,
That fainting each, them selues to breathen lett,
And ofte refreshed, battell oft renue:
As when two Bores with rancling malice mett,
Their gory sides fresh bleeding fiercely frett,
Til breathlesse both themselues aside retire,
Where foming wrath, their cruell tuskes they whett,
And trample th'earth, the whiles they may respire;
Then backe to fight againe, new breathed and entire.
So fiersly, when these knights had breathed once,
They gan to fight retourne, increasing more
Their puissant force, and cruell rage attonce,
With heaped strokes more hugely, then before,
That with their drery wounds and bloody gore
They both deformed, scarsely could bee known.
By this sad Vna fraught with anguish sore,
Led with their noise, which through the aire was thrown:
Arriu'd, wher they in erth their fruitles blood had sown.
Whom all so soone as that proud Sarazin
Espide, he gan reuiue the memory
Of his leud lusts, and late attempted sin,
And lefte the doubtfull battell hastily,
To catch her, newly offred to his eic:
But Satyrane with strokes him turning, staid,
And sternely bad him other businesse plie,
Then hunt the steps of pure vnspotted Maid:
Wherewith he al enrag'd, these bitter speaches said.
O foolish faeries sonne, what fury mad
Hath thee incenst, to hast thy dolefull fate?
Were it not better, I that Lady had,
Then that thou hadst repented it too late?
[Page 89]Most sencelesse man he, that himselfe doth hate,
To loue another. Lo then for thine ayd
Here take thy louers token on thy pate.
So they to fight; the whiles the royall Mayd
Fledd farre away, of that proud Paynim sore afrayd
But that false Pilgrim, which that leasing told,
Being in deed old Archimage, did stay
In secret shadow, all this to behold,
And much reioyced in their bloody fray:
But when he saw the Damsell passe away
He left his stond, and her pursewd apace,
In hope to bring her to her last decay.
But for to tell her lamentable cace,
And eke this battels end, will need another place.
Cant. VII.
The Redcrosse knight is captiue made
By Gyaunt proud opprest,
Prince Arthure meets with Una great
ly with those newes distrest.
VVHat man so wise, what earthly witt so ware,
As to discry the crafty cunning traine,
By which deceipt doth maske in visour faire,
And cast her coulours died deepe in graine,
To seeme like truth, whose shape she well can faine,
And fitting gestures to her purpose frame;
The guiltlesse man with guile to entertaine?
Great maistresse of her art was that false Dame,
The false Duessa, cloked with Fidessaes name.
Who when returning from the drery Night,
She fownd not in that perilous hous of Pryde,
Where she had left, the noble Redcross knight,
Her hoped pray; she would no lenger byde,
But forth she went, to seeke him far and wide.
Ere long she fownd, whereas he wearie sate,
To rest him selfe, soreby a fountaine syde,
Disarmed all of yron-coted Plate,
And by his side his steed the grassy forage ate.
Hee feedes vpon the cooling shade, and bayes
His sweatie forehead in the breathing wynd,
Which through the trēbling leaues full gently playes
Wherein the chearefull birds of sundry kynd
Doe chauntsweet musick, to delight his mynd,
The witch approching gan him fayrely greet,
And with reproch of carelesnes vnkynd,
Vpbrayd, for leauing her in place vnmeet,
With fowle words tempring faire, soure gall with hony sweet.
Vnkindnesse past, they gan of solace treat,
And bathe in pleasaunce of the ioyous shade,
Which shielded them against the boyling heat,
And with greene boughes decking a gloomy glade,
About the fountaine like a girlond made;
Whose bubbling waue did euer freshly well,
Ne euer would through feruent sommer fade
The sacred Nymph, which therein wont to dwell,
Was out of Dianes fauor, as it then befell.
The cause was this: one day when Phoebe fayre
With all her band was following the chace,
This Nymph, quite tyr'd with heat of scorching ayre
Satt downe to rest in middest of the race:
[Page 93]The goddesse wroth gan fowly her disgrace,
And badd the waters, which from her did flow,
Be such as she her selfe was then in place.
Thenceforth her waters wexed dull and slow,
And all that drinke thereof, do faint and feeble grow.
Hereof this gentle knight vnweeting was,
And lying downe vpon the sandie graile,
Dronke of the streame, as cleare as christall glas;
Eftsoones his manly forces gan to fayle,
And mightie strong was turnd to feeble frayle:
His chaunged powres at first them selues not felt,
Till crudled cold his corage gan assayle,
And chearefull blood in fayntnes chill did melt,
Which like a feuer fit through all his body swelt.
Yet goodly court he made still to his Dame,
Pourd out in loosnesse on the grassy grownd,
Both carelesse of his health, and of his fame:
Till at the last he heard a dreadfull sownd,
Which through the wood loud bellowing, did rebownd,
That all the earth for terror seemd to shake,
And trees did tremble. Th'Elfe therewith astownd,
Vpstarted lightly from his looser make,
And his vnready weapons gan in hand to take.
But ere he could his armour on him dight,
Or gett his shield, his monstrous enimy
With sturdie steps came stalking in his sight,
An hideous Geaunt horrible and hye,
That with his tallnesse seemd to threat the skye,
The ground eke groned vnder him for dreed;
His liuing like saw neuer liuing eye,
Ne durst behold: his stature did exceed
The hight of three the tallest sonnes of mortall seed.
The greatest Earth his vncouth mother was,
And blustring AEolus his boasted syre,
Who with his breath, which through the world doth pas,
Her hollow womb did secretly inspyre,
And fild her hidden caues with stormie yre,
That she conceiu'd; and trebling the dew time,
In which the wombes of wemen doe expyre,
Brought forth this monstrous masse of earthly slyme,
Puft vp with emptie wynd, and fild with sinfull cryme.
So growen great through arrogant delight
Of th'high descent, whereof he was yborne,
And through presumption of his matchlesse might,
All other powres and knighthood he did scorne.
Such now he marcheth to this man forlorne,
And left to losse: his stalking steps are stayde
Vpon a snaggy Oke, which he had torne
Out of his mothers bowelles, and it made
His mortall mace, wherewith his foemen he dismayde.
That when the knight he spyde, he gan aduaunce
With huge force and insupportable mayne,
And towardes him with dreadfull fury praunce;
Who haplesse, and eke hopelesse; all in vaine
Did to him pace, sad battaile to darrayne,
Disarmd, disgraste, and inwardly dismayde,
And eke so faint in euery ioynt and vayne,
Through that fraile foūtain, which him feeble made,
That scarsely could he weeld his bootlesse single blade.
The Geaunt strooke so maynly mercilesse,
That could haue ouerthrowne a stony towre,
And were not heuenly grace, that him did blesse,
He had beene pouldred all, as thin as flowre:
[Page 93]But he was wary of that deadly stowre,
And lightly lept from vnderneath the blow
Yetso exceeding was the villeins powre
That with the winde it did him ouerthrow,
And all his sences stoond, that still he lay full low.
As when that diuelish yron Engin wrought
In deepest Hell,, and framd by Furies skill,
With [...] Nitre and quick Sulphur fraught,
And ramd with bollet rownd, ordaind to kill,
Conceiueth fyre, the heauens it doth fill
With thundring noyse, and all the ayre doth choke,
That none can breath, nor see, nor heare at will,
Through smouldry cloud of duskish stincking smok,
That th'onely breath him daunts, who hath escapt the stroke.
So daunted when the Geaunt saw the knight,
His heauie hand he heaued vpon hye,
And him to dust thought to haue battred quight,
Vntill Duessa loud to him gan crye;
O great Orgoglio, greatest vnder skye,
O hold thy mortall hand for Ladies sake,
Hold for my sake, and doe him not to dye,
But vanquisht [...] eternall bondflaue make,
And me thy worthy meed vnto thy Leman take.
He hearkned, and did stay from further harmes,
To gayneso goodly guerdon, as she spake:
So willingly she came into his armes,
Who her as willingly to grace did take,
And was possessed of his newfound make.
Then vp he tooke the slombred sencelesse corse,
And [...] he could out of his swowne awake,
Him to his castle brought with hastie forse,
And in a Dongeon deep him threw without remorse.
From that day forth Duessa was his deare,
And highly honourd in his haughtie eye,
He gaue her gold and purple pall to weare,
And triple crowne set on her head full hye,
And her endowd with royall maiestye:
Then for to make her [...] more of men.
And peoples hartes with awfull terror tye,
A monstrous beast ybredd in filthy fen
He chose, which he had kept long time in darksom den.
Such one it was, as that renowmed Snake
Which great Alcides in Stremona slew,
Long fostred in the filth of Lerna lake,
Whose many heades out budding euer new,
Did breed him endlesse labor to subdew:
But this same Monster much more vgly was;
For seuen great heads out of his body grew,
An yron brest, and back of scaly bras,
And all embrewd in blood, his eyes did shine as glas.
His tayle was stretched out in wondrous length,
That to the hous of heuenly gods it raught,
And with extorted powre, and borrow'd strength,
The euerburning lamps from thence it braught,
And prowdly threw to ground, as things of naught;
And vnderneath his filthy feer did tread,
The sacred thinges, and holy heastes foretaught.
Vpon this dreadfull Beast with seuen fold head
He sett the false Duessa, for more aw and dread.
The wofull Dwarfe, which saw his maisters fall,
Whiles he had keeping of his grasing steed,
And valiant knight become a cay [...] thrall,
When all was past, tooke vp his forlorne weed,
[Page 95]His mightie Armour, missing most at need;
His siluer shield, now idle maisterlesse;
His poynant speare, that many made to bleed,
The ruefull moniments of heauinesse,
And with them all departes, to tell his great distresse.
He had not trauaild long, when on [...] way
He wofull Lady, wofull Vna met,
Fast flying from that Paynims greedy pray,
Whilest Satyrane him from pursuit did let:
Who when her eyes she on the Dwarf had set,
And saw the signes, that deadly tydinges spake,
She fell to ground for sorrowfull regret,
And liuely breath her sad brest did forsake,
Yet might her pittcous hart be seene to pant and quake.
The messenger of so vnhappie newes,
Would faine haue dyde: dead was his hart within,
Yet outwardly some little comfort shewes:
At last recouering hart, he does begin
To rubb her temples, and to chaufe her chin,
And euerie tender part does tosse and turne:
So hardly he the flitted life does win,
Vnto her natiue prison to retourne:
Then gins her grieued ghost thus to lament & mourne.
Ye dreaty instruments of dolefull sight,
That doe this deadly spectacle behold,
Why do ye lenger feed on loathed light,
Or liking find to gaze on earthly mould,
Sith cruell fates the carefull threds vnfould,
The which my life and loue together tyde?
Now let the stony dart of sencelesse cold
Perce to my hart, and pas through euerie side,
And let eternall night so sad fro me hyde.
O light some day, the lampe of highest Ioue,
First made by him, mens wandring wayes to guyde,
When darknesse he in deepest [...] droue,
Henceforth [...] hated face for euer hyde,
And shut vp heauens windowes shyning wyde:
For earthly sight can nought but sorow breed,
And late [...], which shall long abyde.
Mine eyes no more on [...] shall feed,
But seeled vp with death, shall haue their deadly meed.
Then downe againe she fell vnto the ground;
But he her quickly reared vp againe:
Thrise did she sinke [...] in deadly swownd,
And thrise he her [...] with busie paine:
At last when life recouer'd had the raine,
And ouer-wrestled his strong enimy,
With foltring tong, and trembling euerie vaine,
Tell on (quoth she) the wofull Tragedy,
The which these reliques sad present vnto mine eye.
Tempestuous fortune hath spent all her spight,
And thrilling sorrow throwne his vtmost dart;
Thy sad tong cannot tell more heauy plight,
Then that I seele, and harbour in mine hart:
Who hath endur'd the whole, can beare ech part.
If death it be, it is not the first wound,
That launched hath my brest with bleeding smart
Begin, and end the bitter balefull stound;
Iflesse, then that I feare, more fauour I haue found.
Then gan the Dwarfe the whole discourse declare,
The subtile traines of Archimago old;
The wanton loues of false Fidessa fayre,
Bought with the blood of vanquisht Paynim bold:
[Page 97]The wretched payre transformd to [...] mould;
The house of Pryde, and [...] round about;
The combat, which he with Sansioy did hould;
The lucklesse conflict with the Gyaunt [...],
Wherein captiu'd, of life or [...] he stood in doubt.
She heard with patience all vnto the end,
And stroue to maister sorrowfull assay,
Which greater grew, the more she did contend,
And almost rent her tender hart in tway;
And loue fresh coles vnto her fire did Iay:
For greater loue, the greater is the losse.
Was neuer Lady loued dearer day,
Then she did loue the knight of the Redorosse;
For whose deare sake so many troubles her did tosse.
At last when feruent sorrow [...] was,
She vp arose, resoluing him to find
Aliue or dead: and forward forth [...] pas,
All as the Dwarfe the way to her assynd:
And euer more in constant carefull mind
She fedd her wound with fresh [...];
Long tost with stormes, and bet with [...] wind,
High ouer hills, and lowe adowne the dale,
She wandred many a wood, and measurd many a vale.
At last she [...] by good [...] to [...]
A goodly knight, [...] by the way
Together with his [...], [...]
His glitterand armour shined far away,
Like glauncing light of [...] brightest [...];
From top to toe no place [...],
That deadly [...] of [...]
Athwart his brest a [...].
That shind, like twinkling stars, with stones most pretious
And in the midst thereof one pretious stone
Of wondrous worth, and [...] of wondrous mights,
Shapt like a Ladies head, exceeding shone,
Like Hesperus [...] the lesser lights,
And stroue for to amaze the weaker sights;
Thereby his mortall blade full comely hong
In yuory sheath; [...] with [...] slights;
Whose hilts were burnisht gold, and handle strong
Of mother perle, and buckled with a golden tong.
His haughtie Helmet, horrid all with gold,
Both glorious [...], and great terrour bredd,
For all the crest a Dragon did enfold
With greedie pawes, and ouer all did spredd
His golden winges: his dreadfull hideous hedd
Close couched on the beuer, seemd to throw
From flaming mouth bright sparckles fiery redd,
That suddeine [...] to faint hartes did show;
And scaly [...] was stretcht adowne his back full low.
Vpon the top of all his loftie crest,
A [...] of [...] diuersly,
With [...] pearle, and gold full richly drest,
Did shake, and seemd to daunce for iollity,
Like to an Almond tree ymounted hye
On top of greene Selinis all alone,
With blossoms braue bedecked [...];
Her [...] do [...] euery one
At euerie little breath, that vnder heauen is blowne.
His warlike shield all closely couer'd was,
Ne might of [...] all eye be euer seene;
Not made of [...], [...] of enduring bras,
Such earth [...] soone consumed beene:
[Page 99]But all of Diamond perfect pure and cleene
It framed was, one massy entire mould,
Hewen out of Adamant rocke with engines keene,
That point of speare it neuer percen could,
Ne dint of direfull sword diuide the substance would.
The same to wight he neuer wont disclose,
But when as monsters huge he would dismay,
Or daunt vnequall armies of his foes,
Or when the flying heauens he would affray:
For so exceeding shone his glistring ray,
That Phoebus golden face it did attaint,
As when a cloud his beames doth ouer-lay
And siluer Cynthia wexed pale and faynt,
As when her face is staynd with magicke arts constraint.
No magicke arts hereof had any might,
Nor bloody wordes of bold Enchaunters call,
But all that was not such, as seemd in sight,
Before that shield did fade, and suddeine fall:
And when him list the raskall routes appall,
Men into stones therewith he could transmew,
And stones to dust, and dust to nought at all;
And when him list the prouder lookes subdew
He would them gazing blind, or turne to other hew.
Ne let it seene that credence this exceedes,
For he that made the same, was knowne right well
To haue done much more admirable deedes.
It Merlin was, which whylome did excell
All liuing wightes in might of magicke spell:
Both shield, and sword, and armour all he wrought
For this young Prince, when first to armes he fell,
But when he dyde, the Faery Queene it brought
To Faerie lond, where yet it may be seene, if sought.
A gentle youth, his dearely loued Squire
His speare of heben wood behind him bare,
Whose harmeful head, thrise heated in the fire,
Had riuen many a brest with pikehead square;
A goodly person, and could menage faire,
His stubborne steed with curbed canon bitt,
Who vnder him did amble as the aire,
And chaust, that any on his backe should sitt;
The yron rowels into frothy fome he bitt.
When as this knight nigh to the Lady drew,
With louely court he gan her entertaine;
But when he heard her aunswers loth, he knew
Some secret sorrow did her heart distraine:
Which to allay and calme her storming paine,
Faire feeling words he wisely gan display,
And for her humor fitting purpose faine,
To tempt the cause it selfe for to bewray;
Wherewith enmoud, these bleeding words she gan to say.
What worlds delight, or ioy of liuing speach
Can hart, so plungd in sea of sorrowes deep,
And heaped with so huge misfortunes, reach?
The carefull cold beginneth for to creep,
And in my heart his yron arrow steep,
Soone as I thinke vpon my bitter bale:
Such helplesse harmes yts better hidden keep,
Then rip vp griefe, where it may not auaile,
My last left comfort is, my woes to weepe and waile.
Ah Lady deare, qd then the gentle knight,
Well may I ween, your grief is wondrous great;
For wondrous great griefe groneth in my spright,
Whiles thus I heare you of your sorrowes treat.
[Page 101]But woefull Lady, let me you intrete,
For to vnfold the anguish of your hart:
Mishaps are maistred by aduice discrete,
And counsell mitigates the greatest smart;
Found neuer help, who neuer would his hurts impart.
O but (qd. she) great griefe will not be tould,
And can more easily be thought, then said.
Right so (qd. he) but he, that neuer would,
Could neuer: will to might giues greatest aid.
But griefe (qd. she) does greater grow displaid,
If then it find not helpe, and breeds despaire.
Despaire breeds not (qd. he) where faith is [...].
No faith so fast (qd. she) but flesh does paire.
Flesh may empaire (qd. he) but reason can repaire.
His goodly reason, and well guided speach
So deepe did settle in her gracious thought,
That her perswaded to disclose the breach,
Which loue and fortune in her heart had wrought,
And said faire Sir, I hope good hap hath brought
You to inquere the secrets of my griefe,
Or that your wisedome will direct my thought,
Or that your prowesse can me yield reliefe:
Then heare the story sad, which I shall tell you briefe.
The forlorne Maiden, whom your eies haue seene
The laughing stocke of fortunes mockeries,
Am th'onely daughter of a King and Queene,
Whose parents deare whiles equal destinies,
Did come about, and their felicities
The fauourable heauens did not enuy,
Did spred their rule through all the territories,
Which Phison and Euphrates floweth by,
And Gehons golden waues doe wash continually.
Till that their cruell cursed enemy,
An huge great Dragon horrible in sight,
Bred in the loathly lakes of Tartary,
With murdrous rauine, and deuouring might
Their kingdome spoild, and countrey wasted quight:
Themselues, for feare into his iawes to fall,
He forst to castle strong to take their flight,
Where fast embard in mighty brasen wall,
He has them now fowr years besiegd to make thē thrall.
Full many knights aduenturous and stout
Haue enterprizd that Monster to subdew;
From euery coast that heauen walks about,
Haue thither come the noble Martial crew,
That famous harde atchieuements still pursew,
Yet neuer any could that girlond win,
But all still shronke, and still he greater grew:
All they for want of faith, or guilt of sin,
The pitteous pray of his ficrs cruelty haue bin.
At last yled with far reported praise,
Which flying fame throughout the world had spred,
Of doughty knights, whom Fary land [...] raise,
That noble order hight of maidenhed,
Forthwith to court of Gloriane I sped,
Of Gloriane great Queene of glory bright,
Whose kingdomes seat Cleopolis is red,
There to obtaine some such redoubted knight,
That Parents deare from tyrants powre deliuer might.
Yt was my chaunce (my chaunce was faire and good)
There for to find a fresh vnproued knight,
Whose manly hand imbrewd in guilty blood
Had neuer beene, ne euer by his might
[Page 103]Had throwne to gtound the vnregarded right:
Yet of his prowesse proofe he since hath made
(I witnes am) in many a cruell fight;
The groning ghosts of many one dismaide
Haue felt the bitter dint of his auenging blade.
And ye the forlorne reliques of his powre,
His biting sword, and his deuouring speare,
Which haue endured many a dreadfull stowre,
Can speake his prowesse, that did earst you beare,
And well could rule: now he hath left you heare,
To be the record of his ruefull losse,
And of my dolefull disauenturous deare:
O heauie record of the good Redcrosse,
Where haue yee left your lord, that could so well you tosse?
Well hoped I, and faire beginnings had,
That he my captiue languor should redeeme,
Till all vnweeting, an Enchaunter bad
His sence abusd, and made him to misdeeme
My loyalty, not such as it did seeme
That rather death desire, then such despight.
Be iudge ye heauens, that all things right esteeme,
How I him lou'd, and loue with all my might,
So thought I eke of him, and think I thought aright.
Thenceforth me desolate he quite forfooke,
To wander, where wilde fortune would me lead,
And other by waies he himselfe betooke,
Where neuer foote of liuing wight did tread,
That brought not backe the balefull body dead;
In which him chaunced false [...] meete,
Mine onely foe, mine onely deadly dread,
Who with her witchcraft and misseeming sweete,
Inueigled him to follow her desires vnmeete.
At last by subtile sleights she him betraid
Vnto his foe, a Gyaunt huge and tall,
Who him disarmed, dissolute, dismaid,
Vnwares surprised, and with mighty mall
The monster mercilesse him made to fall,
Whose fall did neuer foe before behold;
And now in darkesome dungeon, wretched thrall,
Remedilesse, for aie he doth him hold;
This is my cause of griefe, more great, then may be told.
Ere she had ended all, she gan to faint:
But he her comforted, and faire bespake,
Certes, Madame, ye haue great cause of plaint,
That stoutest heart, I weene, could cause to quake.
But be of cheare, and comfort to you take:
For till I haue acquitt your captiue knight,
Assure your selfe, I will you not forsake.
His chearefull words reviu'd her chearelesse spright,
So forth they went, the Dwarfe thē guiding euer right.
Cant. VIII.
Faire virgin to redeeme her deare
Brings Arthure to the fight:
Who slayes that Gyaunt, wounds the beast,
And strips Duessa quight.
AY me, how many perils doe enfold
The righteous man, to make him daily fall,
Were not that heauenly grace doth him vphold,
And [...] truth acquite him out of all:
[Page 105]Herloue is firme, her care continuall,
So oft as he thorough his own foolish pride,
Or weaknes is to sinfull bands made thrall:
Els should this Redcrosse knight in bands haue dyde,
For whose deliuerāce she this Prince doth thether guyd.
They sadly traueild thus, vntill they came
Nigh to a castle builded strong and hye:
Then cryde the Dwarfe, lo yonder is the same,
In which my Lord my liege doth lucklessely,
Thrall to that Gyaunts hatefull tyranny:
Therefore, deare Sir, your mightie powres assay.
The noble knight alighted by and by
From loftie steed, and badd the Ladie stay,
To see what end of fight should him befall that day.
So with his Squire, th'admirer of his might,
He marched forth towardes that castle wall;
Whose gates he fownd fast shutt, ne liuing wight
To warde the same, nor answere commers call.
Then tooke that Squire an horne of bugle small,
Which hong adowne his side in twisted gold,
And tasselles gay. Wyde wonders ouer all
Of that same hornes great vertues weren told,
Which had approued bene in vses manifold.
Was neuer wight, that heard that shrilling sownd,
But trembling feare did feel in euery vaine;
Three miles it might be easy heard arownd,
And Ecchoes three aunswerd it selfe againe:
No false enchauntment, nor deceiptfull traine
Might once abide the terror of that blast,
But presently was void and wholly vaine:
No gate so strong, no locke so firme and fast,
But with that percing noise flew open quite, or brast.
The same before the Geaunts gate he blew,
That all the castle quaked from the grownd,
And euery dore of freewill open flew:
The Gyaunt selfe dismaied with that sownd,
Where he with his Duessa dalliaunce fownd.
In hast came rushing forth from inner bowre,
With staring countenance sterne, as one astownd,
And staggering steps, to weet, what suddein stowre,
Had wrought that horror strange, and dar'd his dreaded powre.
And after him the proud Duessa came,
High mounted on her many headed beast,
And euery head with fyrie tongue did flame,
And euery head was crowned on his creast,
And bloody mouthed with late cruell feast.
That when the knight beheld, his mightie shild
Vpon his manly arme he soone addrest,
And at him fiersly flew, with corage fild,
And eger greedinesse through euery member thrild.
Therewith the Gyant buckled him to fight,
Inflamd with scornefull wrath and high disdaine,
And lifting vp his dreadfull club on hight,
All armd with ragged snubbes and knottie graine,
Him thought at first encounter to haue slaine.
But wist and wary was that noble Pere,
And lightly leaping from so monstrous maine,
Did fayre auoide the violence him nere;
It booted nought, to thinke, such thunderbolts to beare.
Ne shame he thought to shonne so hideous might,
The ydle stroke, enforcing furious way,
Missing the marke of his misaymed sight
Did fall to ground, and with his heauy sway
[Page 107]So deepely dinted in the driuen clay,
That three yardes deepe a furrow vp did throw:
The sad earth wounded with so sore assay,
Did grone full grieuous vnderneath the blow,
And trembling with strange [...], did like an erthquake show.
As when almightie Ioue in wrathfull mood,
To wreake the guilt of mortall sins is bent,
Hurles forth his thundring dart with deadly food,
Enrold in flames, and smouldring dreriment,
Through riuen cloudes and molten firmament;
The fiers threeforked engin making way,
Both loftie towres and highest trees hath rent,
And all that might his angry passage stay,
And shooting in the earth, castes vp a mount of clay.
His boystrous club, so buried in the grownd,
He could not rearen vp againe so light,
But that the knight him at aduantage fownd,
And whiles he stroue his combred clubbe to quight,
Out of the earth, with blade all burning bright
He smott of his left arme, which like a block
Did fall to ground, depriu'd of natiue might;
Large streames of blood out of the truncked stock
Forth gushed, like fresh water streame from riuen rocke.
Dismayed with so desperate deadly wound,
And eke impatient of vnwonted payne,
He lowdly brayd with beastly yelling sownd,
That all the fieldes rebellowed againe,
As great a noyse, as when in Cymbrian plaine
An heard of Bulles, whom kindly rage doth sting,
Doe for the milky mothers want complaine,
And fill the fieldes with troublous bellowing,
The neighbor woods arownd with hollow murmuring.
That when his deare Duessa heard, and saw
The euill stownd, that daungerd her estate,
Vnto his aide she hastily did draw
Her dreadfull beast, who swolne with blood of late
Came ramping forth with proud [...] gate,
And threatned all his heades like flaming brandes.
But him the Squire made quickly to retrate,
Encountring fiers with single sword in hand,
And twixt him and his Lord did like a bulwarke stand.
The proud Duessa full of wrathfull spight,
And fiers disdaine, to be affronted so,
Enforst her purple beast with all her might
That stop out of the way to ouerthroe,
Scorning the let of so vnequall foe:
But nathemore would that corageous swayne
To her yeeld passage, gainst his Lord to goe,
But with outrageous strokes did him restraine,
And with his body bard the way atwixt them twaine.
Then tooke the angrie witch her golden cup,
Which still she bore, replete with magick artes;
Death and despeyre did many thereof sup,
And secret poyson through their inner partes,
Th'eternall bale of heauie wounded harts;
Which after charmes and some enchauntments said,
She lightly sprinkled on his weaker partes;
Therewith his sturdie corage soone was quayd,
And all his sences were with suddein dread dismayd
So downe he fell before the [...] beast,
Who on his neck his bloody clawes did seize,
That life nigh crusht out of his panting brest:
No powre he had to stirre, nor will to [...].
[Page 109]That when the carefull knight gan well auise,
He lightly left the foe, with whom he fought,
And to the beast gan turne his enterprise;
For wondrous anguish in his hart it wrought,
To see his loued Squyre into such thraldom brought.
And high aduauncing his blood-thirstie blade,
Stroke one of those deformed heades so sore,
That of his puissaunce proud ensample made;
His monstrous scalpe downe to his teeth it tore,
And that misformed shape misshaped more:
A sea of blood gusht from the gaping wownd,
That her gay garments staynd with filthy gore,
And ouerflowed all the field arownd;
That ouer shoes in blood he waded on the grownd.
There at he rored for excecding paine,
That to haue heard, great horror would haue bred,
And scourging th'emptie ayre with his long trayne,
Through great impatience of his grieued hed
His gorgeous ryder from her loftie sted
Would haue cast downe, and trodd in durty myre,
Had not the Gyaunt soone her succoured;
Who all enrag'd with smartand frantick yre,
Came hurtling in full fiers, and forst the knight retyre.
The force, which wont in two to be disperst,
In one alone left hand he now vnites,
Which is through rage more strong then both were erst;
With which his hideous club aloft he dites,
And at his foe with furious rigor smites,
That strongest Oake might seeme to ouerthrow:
The stroke vpon his shield so heauie lites,
That to the ground it doubleth him full low
What mortall wight could euer beareso monstrous blow?
And in his fall his shield, that couered was,
Did loose his vele by chaunce, and open flew:
The light whereof, that heuens light did pas,
Such blazing brightnesse through the ayer threw,
That eye mote not the same endure to vew.
Which when the Gyaunt spyde with staring eye,
He downe let fall his arme, and foft withdrew
His weapon huge, that heaued was on hye,
For to haue slain the man, that on the ground did lye.
And eke the fruitfull-headed beast, amazd
At flashing beames of that sunshiny shield,
Became stark blind, and all his sences dazd
That downe he tumbled on the durtie field,
And seemd himselfe as conquered to yield.
Whom when his maistresse proud perceiu'd to fall,
Whiles yet his feeble feet for faintnesse reeld,
Vnto the Gyaunt lowdly she gan call,
O helpe Orgoglio, helpe, or els we perish all.
At her so pitteous cry was much amo ou'd,
Her champion stout, and for to ayde his frend,
Againe his wonted angry weapon proou'd:
But all in vaine: for he has redd his end
In that bright shield, and all their forces spend
Them selues in vaine: for since that glauncing sight,
He hath no poure to hurt, nor to defend;
As where th'Almighties lightning brond does light,
It dimmes the dazed eyen, and daunts the sences quight.
Whom when the Prince, to batteill new addrest,
And threatning high his dreadfull stroke did see,
His sparkling blade about his head he blest,
And smote off quite his right leg by the knee,
[Page 111]That downe he tombled; as an aged tree,
High growing on the top of rocky clift,
Whose hartstrings with keene steele nigh hewen be,
The mightie trunck halfe rent, with ragged rift
Doth roll adowne the rocks, and fall with fearefull drift.
Or as a Castle reared high and round,
By subtile engins and malitious slight
Is vndermined from the lowest ground,
And her foundation forst, and feebled quight,
At last downe falles, and with her heaped hight
Herhastie ruine does more heauie make,
And yields it selfe vnto the victours might;
Such was this Gyaunts fall, that seemd to shake
The stedfast globe of earth, as it for feare did quake.
The knight then lightly leaping to the pray,
With mortall steele him smot againe so sore,
That headlesse his vnweldy bodie lay,
All wallowd in his owne fowle bloody gore,
Which flowed from his wounds in wondrous store.
But soone as breath out of her brest did pas,
That huge great body, which the Gyaunt bore,
Was vanisht quite, and of that monstrous mas
Was nothing left, but like an emptie blader was.
Whose grieuous fall, when false Duessa spyde,
Her golden cup she cast vnto the ground,
And crowned mitre rudely threw asyde;
Such percing griefe her stubborne hart did wound,
That she could not endure that dolefull stound,
But leauing all behind her, fled away:
The light-foot Squyre her quickly turnd around.
And by hard meanes enforcing her to stay,
So brought vnto his Lord, as his deserued pray.
The roiall Virgin, which beheld from farre,
In pensiue plight, and sad perplexitie,
The whole atchieuement of this doubtfull warre,
Came running fast to greet his victorie,
With sôber gladnesse, and myld modestie,
And with sweet ioyous cheare him thus bespake;
Fayre braunch of noblesse, flowre of chevalrie,
That with your worth the world amazed make,
How shall I quite the paynes, ye suffer for my sake?
And you fresh budd of vertue springing fast,
Whom these sad eyes saw nigh vnto deaths dore,
What hath poore Virgin for such perill past,
Where with you to reward? Accept therefore
My simple selfe, and seruice euermore:
And he that high does sit, and all things see
With equall eye, their merites to restore,
Behold what ye this day haue done for mee,
And what I cannot quite, requite with vsuree.
But sith the heauens, and your faire handeling
Haue made you master of the field this day,
Your fortune maister eke with gouerning,
And well begonne end all so well, I pray,
Ne let that wicked woman scape away;
For she it is, that did my Lord bethrall,
My dearest Lord, and deepe in dongeon lay,
Where he his better dayes hath wasted all.
O heare, how piteous he to you for ayd does call.
Forthwith he gaue in charge vnto his Squyre,
That scarlot whore to keepen carefully;
Whyles he himselfe with greedie great desyre
[...] the Castle entred forcibly,
[Page 113]Where liuing creature none he did espye;
Then gan he lowdly through the house to call:
But no man car'd to answere to his crye.
There raignd a solemne silence ouer all,
Nor voice was heard, nor wight was seene in bowre or hall.
At last with creeping crooked pace forth came
An old old man, with beard as white as snow,
That on a staffe his feeble steps did frame,
And guyde his wearie gate both too and fro;
For his eye sight him fayled long ygo,
And on his arme a bounch of keyes he bore,
The which vnused rust did ouergrow:
Those were the keyes of euery inner dore,
But he could not them vse, but kept them still in store.
But very vncouth sight was to behold,
How he did fashion his vntoward pace,
For as he forward mooud his footing old,
So backward still was turnd his wrincled face,
Vnlike to men, who euer as they trace,
Both feet and face one way are wont to lead.
This was the auncient keeper of that place,
And foster father of the Gyaunt dead;
His name Ignaro did his nature right aread.
His reuerend heares and holy grauitee
The knight much honord, as beseemed well,
And gently askt, where all the people bee,
Which in that stately building wont to dwell.
Who answerd him full soft, he could not tell.
Againe he askt, where that same knight was layd,
Whom great [...] with his puissaunce fell
Had made his [...] thrall; againe he sayde,
He could not tell: ne euer other answere made.
Then asked he, which way he in might pas:
He could not tell, againe he answered,
Thereat the courteous knight displeased was,
And said, Old syre, it seemes thou hast not red
How ill it sits with that same siluer hed,
In vaine to mocke, or mockt in vaine to bee:
But if thou be, as thou art pourtrahed
With natures pen, in ages graue degree,
Aread in grauer wise, what I demaund of thee.
His answere likewise was, he could not tell.
Whose sencelesse speach, and doted ignorance
When as the noble Prince had marked well,
He ghest his nature by his countenance,
And calmd his wrath with goodly temperance.
Then to him stepping, from his arme did reach
Those keyes, and made himselfe free enterance.
Each dore he opened without any breach;
There was no barre to stop, nor foe him to empeach.
There all within full rich arayd he found,
With royall arras and resplendent gold,
And did with store of euery thing abound,
That greatest Princes presence might behold.
But all the floore (too filthy to be told)
With blood of guiltlesse babes, and innocents trew,
Which there were slaine, as sheepe out of the fold,
Defiled was, that dreadfull was to vew,
And sacred ashes ouer it was strowed new.
And there beside of marble stone was built
An Altare, caru'd with cunning ymagery,
On which trew Christians blood was often spilt,
And holy Martyres often doen to dye,
[Page 115]With cruell malice and strong tyranny:
Whose blessed sprites from vnderneath the stone
To God for vengeance cryde continually,
And with great griefe were often heard to grone,
That hardest heart would bleede, to heare their piteous mone.
Through euery rowme he sought, and euerie bowr,
But no where could he find that wofull thrall:
At last he came vnto an yron doore,
That fast was lockt, but key found not at all
Emongst that bounch, to open it withall;
But in the same a little grate was pight,
Through which he sent his voyce, and lowd did call
With all his powre, to weet, if liuing wight
Were housed therewithin, whom he enlargen might.
Therewith an hollow, dreary, murmuring voyce
These pitteous plaintes and dolours did resound;
O who is that, which bringes me happy choyce
Of death, that here lye dying euery stound,
Yet liue perforce in balefull darkenesse bound?
For now three Moones haue chāged thrice their hew,
And haue beene thrice hid vnderneath the ground,
Since I the heauens chearefull face did vew,
O welcome thou, that doest of death bring tydings trew.
Which whē that Champion heard, with percing point
Of pitty deare his hart was thrilled sore,
And trembling horrour ran through euery ioynt,
For ruth of gentle knight so fowle forlore:
Which shaking off, he rent that yron dore,
With furious force, and indignation fell;
Where entred in, his foot could find no flore,
But all a deepe descent, as darke as hell,
That breathed euer forth a filthie banefull smell.
But nether darkenesse fowle, nor filthy bands,
Nor noyous smell his purpose could withhold,
(Entire affection hateth nicer hands)
But that with constant zele, and corage bold,
After long paines and labors manifold,
He found the meanes that Prisoner vp to reare;
Whose feeble thighes, vnhable to vphold
His pined corse, him scarse to light could beare,
A ruefull spectacle of death and ghastly drere.
His sad dull eies deepe sunck in hollow pits,
Could not endure th'vnwonted sunne to view;
His bare thin cheekes for want of better bits,
And empty sides deceiued of their dew,
Could make a stony hart his hap to rew;
His rawbone armes, whose mighty brawned bowrs
Were wont to riue steele plates, and helmets hew,
Were [...] consum'd, and all his vitall powres
Decayd, and al his flesh shronk vp like withered flowres.
Whome when his Lady saw, to him she ran
With hasty ioy: to see him made her glad,
And sad to view his visage pale and wan,
Who earst in flowres of freshest youth was clad.
Tho when her well of teares she wasted had,
She said, Ah dearest Lord, what euill starre
On you hath frownd, and pourd his influence bad,
That of your selfe ye thus berobbed arre,
And this misseeming hew your māly looks doth marre?
But welcome now my Lord, in wele or woe,
Whose presence I haue lackt too long a day;
And fie on Fortune mine [...],
Whose wrathful wreakes them selues doe now alay.
[Page 117]And for these wronges shall treble penaunce pay
Of treble good: good growes of euils priefe.
The chearelesse man, whom sorow did dismay,
Had no delight to treaten of his griefe;
His long endured famine needed more reliefe.
Faire Lady, then said that victorious knight,
The things, that grieuous were to doe, or beare,
Them to renew, I wote, breeds no delight;
Best musicke breeds delight in loathing eare:
But th'only good, that growes of passed feare,
Is to be wise, and ware of like agein.
This daies ensample hath this lesson deare
Deepe written in my heart with yron pen,
That blisse may not abide in state of mortall men.
Henceforth Sir knight, take to you wonted strength,
And maister these mishaps with patient might;
Loe wher your foe lies stretcht in monstrous length,
And loe that wicked woman in your sight,
The [...] of all your care, and wretched plight,
Now in your powre, to let her liue, or die.
To doe her die (qd. Vna) were despight,
And shame t'auenge so weake an enimy;
But spoile her of her scarlot robe, and let her fly.
So as she bad, that witch they disaraid,
And robd of roiall robes, and purple pall,
And ornaments that richly were displaid;
Ne spared they to strip her naked all.
Then when they had despoyld her tire and call,
Such as she was, their eies might her behold,
That her misshaped parts did them appall,
A loathly, wrinckled hag; ill fauoured, old,
Whose secret filth good manners biddeth not be told,
Her crafty head was altogether bald,
And as in hate of honorable eld,
Was ouergrowne with scurfe and filthy scald;
Her teeth out of her rotten gummes were feld,
And her sowre breath abhominably smeld;
Her dried dugs, lyke bladders lacking wind,
Hong downe, and filthy matter from them w eld;
Her wrizled skin as rough, as maple rind,
So scabby was, that would haue loathd all womankind.
Her neather parts, the shame of all her kind,
My [...] Muse for shame doth blush to write;
But at her rompe she growing had behind
A foxes taile, with dong all fowly dight;
And eke her feete most monstrous were in sight;
For one of them was like an Eagles claw,
With griping talaunts armd to greedy fight,
The other like a beares vneuen paw:
More vgly shape yet neuer liuing creature saw.
Which when the knights beheld, amazd they were,
And wondred at so fowle deformed wight.
Such then (said Vna) as she seemeth here,
Such is the face of falshood, such the sight
Of fowle Duessa, when her borrowed light
Is laid away, and counterfesaunce knowne.
Thus when they had the witch disrobed quight,
And all her filthy feature open showne,
They let her goe at will, and wander waies vnknowne.
Shee flying fast from heauens hated face,
And from the world that her discouered wide,
Fled to the wastfull wildernesse apace,
From liuing eies her open shame to hide,
[Page 119]And lurkt in rocks and caues long vnespide.
But that faire crew of knights, and Vna faire
Did in that castle afterwards abide,
To rest them selues, and weary powres repaire,
Where store they fownd of al, that dainty was and rare.
Cant. IX.
His loues and lignage Arthure tells
the knights knitt friendly hands:
Sir Treuisan flies from Despeyre,
Whom Redcros knight withstands.
O goodly golden chayne, wherewith yfere
The vertues linked are in louely wize:
And noble mindes of yore allyed were,
In braue poursuitt of cheualrous emprize,
That none did others safety despize,
Nor aid enuy to him, in need that stands,
But friendly each did others praise deuize,
How to aduaunce with fauourable hands,
As this good Prince redeemd the Redcrosse knight from bands.
Who when their powres empayrd through labor long,
With dew repast they had recured well,
And that weake captiue wight now wexed strong,
Them list no lenger there at leasure dwell,
But forward fare, as their aduentures fell,
But ere they parted, Vna faire besought
That straunger knight his name and nation tell;
Least so great good, as he for her had wrought,
Should die vnknown, & buried be in thankles thought.
Faire virgin (said the Prince) yee mere quire
A thing without the compas of my witt:
For both the lignage and the certein Sire,
From which I sprong, from mee are hidden yitt.
For all so soone as life did me admitt
Into this world, and shewed heuens light,
From mothers pap I taken was vnfitt:
And streight deliuered to a Fary knight,
To be vpbrought in gentle thewes and martiall might.
Vnto old Timon he me brought byliue,
Old Timon, who in youthly yeares hath beene
In warlike feates th'expertest man aliue,
And is the wisest now on earth I weene;
His dwelling is low in a valley greene,
Vnder the foot of Rauran mossy hore,
From whence the riuer Dee as siluer cleene
His tombling dillowes rolls with gentle rore:
There all my daies he traind mee vp in vertuous lore.
Thether the great magicien Merlin came,
As was his vse; ofttimes to visitt mee
For he had charge my discipline to frame,
And Tutors nouriture to ouersee.
Him oft and oft I askt in priuity,
Of what loines and what lignage I did spring.
Whose aunswere bad me still assured bee,
That I was sonne and heire vnto a king,
As time in her iust term the truth to light should bring.
Well worthy impe, said then the Lady gent,
And Pupill fitt for such a Tutors hand.
But what aduenture, or what high intent
Hath brought you hether into Fary land,
[Page 121]Aread Prince Arthure, crowne of Martiall band?
Full hard it is (qd. he) to read aright
The course of heauenly cause, or vnderstand
The secret meaning of th'eternall might,
That rules mens waies, and rules the thoughts of Luing wight.
For whether he through fatal deepe foresight
Me hither sent, for cause to me vnghest,
Or that fresh bleeding wound, which day and night
Whilome doth rancle in my riuen brest,
With forced fury following his behest,
Me hether brought by wayes yet neuer found,
You to haue helpt I hold my selfe yet blest.
Ah courteous knight (quoth she) what secret wound
Could euer find, to grieue the gentlest hart on ground?
Deare Dame (quoth he) you sleeping sparkes awake,
Which troubled once, into huge flames will grow,
Ne euer will their feruent fury slake,
Till liuing moysture into smoke do flow,
And wasted life doe lye in ashes low.
Yet sithens silence lesseneth not my fire,
But told it flames, and hidden it does glow,
I will reuele, what ye so much desire:
Ah Loue, lay down thy bow, that whiles I may [...]
It was in freshest flowre of youthly yeares,
When corage first does creepe in manly chest,
Then first that cole of kindly heat appeares
To kindle loue in euery liuing brest;
But me had warnd old Cleons wise behest,
Those creeping flames by reason to subdew,
Before their rage grew to so great vnrest,
As miserable louers vse to rew,
Which still wex old in woe, whiles wo stil wexeth new.
That ydle name of loue, and louers life,
As losse of time, and vertues enimy
I euer scormd, and ioyd to [...] strife,
In middest of their mournfull Tragedy,
Ay wont to laugh, when them I heard to cry,
And blow the fire, which them to ashes brent:
Their God himselfe, grieud at my libertie,
Shott many a dart at me with fiers intent,
But I them warded all with wary gouernment.
But all in vaine: no fort can be so strong,
[...] brest can armed be so sownd,
But will at last be wonne with battrie long,
Or vnawares at disauantage fownd:
Nothing is sure, that growes on earthly grownd:
And who most trustes in arme of fleshly might,
And boastes, in beauties chaine not to bebownd,
Doth soonest fall in disauentrous fight,
And yeeldes his caytiue neck to victours most despight.
Ensample make of him your haplesse ioy,
And of my selfe now mated, as ye see;
Whose prouder vaunt that proud auenging boy
Did soone pluck downe, and curbd my libertee.
For on a day prickt forth with iollitee
Of looser life, and heat of hardiment,
Raunging the forest wide on courser free,
The fields, the floods, the heauens with one consent
Did seeme to laugh at me, and fauour mine intent.
For wearied with my sportes, I did alight
From loftie steed, and downe to sleepe me layd;
The verdant gras my couch did goodly dight,
And pillow was my helmett fayre displayd:
[Page 123]Whiles euery sence the humour sweet embayd,
And slombring soft my hart did steale away
Me seemed, by my side a royall Mayd
Her daintie limbes full softly down did lay:
So fayre a creature yet saw neuer sunny day.
Most goodly glee and louely blandishment
She to me made, and badd me loue her deare;
For dearely sure her loue was to me bent,
As when iust time expired should appeare.
But whether dreames delude, or true it were,
Was neuer hart so rauisht with delight,
Ne liuing man like wordes did euer heare,
As she to me deliuered all that night;
And at her parting said, She Queene of Faries hight.
When I awoke, and found her place deuoyd,
And nought but pressed gras where she had lyen,
I sorrowed all so much, as earst I ioyd,
And washed all her place with watry eyen.
From that day forth I lou'd that face diuyne;
From that day forth I cast in carefull mynd,
To seeke her out with labor, and long tyne,
And neuer vowd to rest, till her I fynd,
Nyne monethes I seek in vain yet ni'll that vow vnbynd.
Thus as he spake, his visage wexed pale,
And chaunge of hew great passion did bewray;
Yett still he stroue to cloke his inward bale,
And hide the smoke, that did his fire display,
Till gentle Vna thus to him gan say;
O happy Queene of Faries, that hast fownd
Mongst many, one that with his prowesse may
Defend thine honour, and thy foes confownd:
True Loues are oftē sown, but seldom grow on grownd
Thine, O then, said the gentle Redcrosse knight,
Next to that Ladies loue, shalbe the place,
O fayrest virgin, full of heauenly light,
Whose wondrous faith, exceeding earthly race,
Was firmest fixt in myne extremest case.
And you, my Lord, the Patrone of my life,
Of that great Queene may well gaine worthie grace:
For onely worthie you through prowes priefe
Yf liuing man mote worthie be, to be her liefe.
So [...] discoursing of their loues,
The golden Sunne his glistring head gan shew,
And sad remembraunce now the Prince amoues,
With fresh desire his voyage to pursew:
Als Vna earnd her traue ill to renew.
Then those two knights, fast frendship for to bynd,
And loue establish each to other trew,
Gaue goodly gifts, the signes of gratefull mynd,
And eke as pledges firme, right hands together ioynd.
Prince [...] gaue a boxe of Diamond sure,
Embowd with gold and gorgeous ornament,
Wherein were closd few drops of liquor pure,
Of wondrous worth, and vertue excellent,
That any wownd could heale incontinent:
Which to requite, the Redcrosse knight him gaue
A booke, wherein this Saueours testament
Was writt with golden letters rich and braue;
A worke of wondrous grace, and hable soules to saue.
Thus beene they parted, Arthur on his way
To seeke his loue, and th'other for to fight
With [...] foe, that all her realme did pray.
But she now weighing the decayed plight,
[Page 125]And shrunken synewes of her chosen knight,
Would not a while her forward course pursew,
Ne bring him forth in face of dreadfull fight,
Till he recouered had his former hew:
For him to be yet weake and wearie well she knew.
So as they traueild, lo they gan espy
An armed knight towards them gallop fast,
That seemed from some feared foe to fly,
Or other griesly thing, that him aghast.
Still as he fledd, his eye was backward cast,
As if his feare still followed him behynd;
Als flew his steed, as he his bandes had brast,
And with his winged heeles did tread the wynd,
As he had beene a fole of Pegasus his kynd.
Nigh as he drew, they might perceiue his head
To bee vnarmd, and curld vncombed heares
Vpstaring stiffe, dismaid with vncouth dread;
Nor drop of blood in all his face appeares
Nor life in limbe: and to increase his feares,
In fowle reproch of knighthoodes fayre degree,
About his neck an hempen rope he weares,
That with his glistring armes does ill agree;
But he of rope or armes has now no memoree.
The Redcrosse knight toward him crossed fast,
To weet, what mister wight was so dismayd:
There him he findes all sencelesse and aghast,
That of him selfe he seemd to be afrayd,
Whom hardly he from flying forward stayd,
Till he these wordes to him deliuer might;
Sir knight, aread who hath ye thus arayd,
And eke from whom make ye this hasty flight:
For neuer knight I saw in such misseeming plight.
He answerd nought at all, but adding new
Feare to his first amazment, staring wyde
With stony eyes, and hartlesse hollow hew,
Astonisht stood, as one that had aspyde
Infernall furies, with their chaines vntyde.
Him yett againe, and yett againe bespake
The gentle knight, who nought to him replyde,
But trembling euery ioynt did inly quake,
And foltring tongue at last these words seemd forth to shake.
For Gods deare loue, Sir knight, doe me not stay;
For loe he comes, he comes fast after mee.
Est looking back would faine haue runne away;
But he him forst to stay, and tellen free
The secrete cause of his perplexitie,
Yet nathemore by his bold hartie speach,
Could his blood frosen hart emboldened bee,
But through his boldnes rather feare did reach,
Yett forst, at last he made through silēce suddein breach.
And am I now in safetie sure (quoth he)
From him, that would haue forced me to dye.
And is the point of death now turnd fro mee,
That I may tell this haplesse history?
Feare nought: (quoth he) no daunger now is nye?
Then shall I you recount a ruefull cace,
(Said he) the which with this vnlucky eye
I late beheld, and had not greater grace
Me reft from it, had bene partaker of the place.
I lately chaunst (Would I had neuer chaunst)
With a fayre knight to keepen companee,
Sir Terwin hight, that well himselfe aduaunst
In all affayres, and was both bold and free,
[Page 127]But not so happy as mote happy bee:
He lou'd, as was his lot, a Lady gent,
That him againe lou'd in the least degree:
For she was proud, and of too high intent,
And ioyd to see her louer languish and lament.
From whom retourning sad and comfortlesse,
As on the way together we did fare,
We met that villen (God from him me blesse)
That cursed wight, from whom I scapt whyleare,
A man of hell, that calls himselfe Despayre:
Who first vs greets, and after fayre areedes
Of tydinges straunge, and of aduentures rare:
So creeping close, as Snake in hidden weedes,
Inquireth of our states, and of our knightly deedes.
Which when he knew, and felt our feeble harts
Embost with bale, and bitter byting griefe,
Which loue had launched with his deadly darts,
With wounding words and termes of foule repriefe,
He pluckt from vs all hope of dew reliefe,
That earst vs held in loue of lingring life;
Then hopelesse hartlesse, gan the cunning thiefe
Perswade vs dye, to stint all further strife:
To me he lent this rope, to him a rusty knife.
With which sad instrument of hasty death,
That wofull louer, loathing lenger light,
A wyde way made to let forth liuing breath.
But I more fearefull, or more lucky wight,
Dismayd with that deformed dismall sight,
Fledd fast away, halfe dead with dying feare;
Ne yet assur'd of life by you, Sir knight,
Whose like infirmity like chaunce may beare:
But God you neuer let his charmed speaches heare.
How may a man (said he) with idle speach
Be wonne, to spoyle the Castle of his health?
I wote (quoth he) whom tryall late did teach,
That like would not for all this worldes wealth:
His subtile tong, like dropping honny, mealt'h
Into the heart, and searcheth euery vaine,
That ere one be aware, by secret stealth
His powre is reft, and weaknes doth remaine.
O neuer Sir desire to try his guilefull traine.
Certes (sayd he) hence shall I neuer rest,
Till I that treachours art haue heard and tryde;
And you Sir knight, whose name mote I request,
Of grace do me vnto his cabin guyde.
I that hight Treuisan (quoth he) will ryde
Against my liking backe, to doe you grace:
But nor for gold nor glee will I abyde
By you, when ye arriue in that same place;
For [...] had I die, then see his deadly face.
Ere long they come, where that same wicked wight
His dwelling has, low in an hollow caue,
Far vnderneath a craggy clifty plight,
Darke, dolefull, dreary, like a greedy graue,
That still for carrion carcases doth craue:
On top whereof ay dwelt the ghastly Owle,
Shrieking his balefull note, which euer draue
Far from that haunt all other chearefull fowle;
Aud all about it wandring ghostes did wayle & howle.
And all about old stockes and stubs of trees,
Whereon nor fruite, nor leafe was euer seene,
Did hang vpon the ragged rocky knees;
On which had many wretches hanged beene,
[Page 129]Whose carcases were scattred on the greene,
And throwne about the clifts. Arriued there,
That bare-head knight for dread and dolefull teene,
Would faine haue fled, ne durst approchen neare,
But th'other forst him staye, and comforted in feare.
That darkesome caue they enter, where they find
That cursed man, low sitting on the ground,
Musing full sadly in his sullein mind;
His griesie lockes, long growen, and vnbound,
Disordred hong about his shoulders round,
And hid his face; through which his hollow eyne
Lookt deadly dull, and stared as astound;
His raw-bone cheekes through penurie and pine,
Were shronke into his iawes, as he did neuer dyne.
His garment nought but many ragged clouts,
With thornes together pind and patched was,
The which his naked sides he wrapt abouts;
And him beside there lay vpon the gras
A dreary corse, whose life away did pas,
All wallowd in his own yet luke-warme blood,
That from his wound yet welled fresh alas;
In which a rusty knife fast fixed stood,
And made an open passage for the gushing flood.
Which piteous spectacle, approuing trew
The wofull tale, that Trevisan had told,
When as the gentle Redcrosse knight did vew,
With firie zeale he burnt in courage bold,
Him to auenge, before his blood were cold,
And to the villein sayd, Thou damned wight,
The authour of this fact, we here behold,
What iustice can but iudge against thee right,
With thine owne blood to price his blood, here shed in sight.
What franticke fit (quoth he) hath thus distraught
Thee, foolish man, so rash a doome to giue?
What iustice euer other iudgement taught,
But he should dye, who merites not to liue?
None els to death this man despayring driue,
But his owne guiltie mind deseruing death.
Is then vniust to each his dew to giue?
Or let him dye, that loatheth liuing breath?
Or let him die at ease, that liueth here vneath?
Who trauailes by the wearie wandring way,
To come vnto his wished home in haste,
And meetes a flood, that doth his passage stay,
Is not great grace to helpe him ouer past,
Or free his feet, that in the myresticke fast?
Most enuious man, that grieues at neighbours good,
And fond, that ioyest in the woe thou hast,
Why wilt not let him passe, that long hath stood
Vpon the bancke, yet wilt thy selfe not pas the flood?
He there does now enioy eternall rest
And happy ease, which thou doest want and craue,
And further from it daily wanderest:
What if some little payne the passage haue,
That makes frayle flesh to feare the bitter waue?
Is not short payne well borne, that bringes long ease,
And layes the soule to sleepe in quiet graue?
Sleepe after toyle, port after stormie seas,
Ease after warre, death after life does greatly pleafe.
The knight much wondred at his suddeine wit,
And sayd, The terme of life limited,
Ne may a man prolong, nor shorten it;
The souldier may not moue from watchfull sted,
[Page 131]Nor leaue his stand, vntill his Captaine bed.
Who life did limit by almightie doome,
(Quoth he) knowes best the termes established;
And he, that points the Centonell his roome,
Doth license him depart at sound of morning droome.
Is not his deed, what euer thing is donne,
In heauen and earth? did not he all create,
To die againe? all ends that was begonne.
Their times in his eternall booke of fate
Are written sure, and haue their certein date.
Who then can striue with strong necessitie,
That holds the world in his still chaunging state,
Or shunne the death ordaynd by destinie?
Whē houre of death is come, let none aske whence, nor why.
The lenger life, I wote the greater sin,
The greater sin, the greater punishment:
All those great battels, which thou boasts to win,
Through strife, and blood-shed, and auengement,
Now praysd, hereafter deare thou shalt repent:
For life must life, and blood must blood repay.
Is not enough thy euill life forespent?
For he, that once hath missed the right way.
The further he doth goe, the further he doth stray.
Then doe no further goe, no further stray,
But herely downe, and to thy rest betake,
Th'ill to preuent, that life ensewen may.
For what hath life, that may it loued make,
And giues not rather cause it to forsake?
Feare, sicknesse, age, losse, labour, sorrow, strife,
Payne, hunger, cold, that makes the hart to quake;
And euer fickle fortune rageth rife,
All which, and thousands mo do make a loathsome life.
Thou wretched man, of death hast greatest need,
If in true ballaunce thou wilt weigh thy state:
For neuer knight, that dared warlike deed,
More luckless dissauentures did amate:
Witnes the dungeon deepe, wherein of late
Thy life shutt vp, for death so oft did call;
And though good lucke prolonged hath thy date,
Yet death then, would the like mishaps forestall,
Into the which heareafter thou maist happen fall.
Why then doest thou, O man of sin, desire
To draw thy dayes forth to their last degree?
Is not the measure of thy sinfull hire
High heaped vp with huge [...],
Against the day of wrath, to burden thee?
Is not enough, that to this Lady mild
Thou falsest hast thy faith with periuree,
And sold thy selfe to serue Duessa vild,
With whom in al abuse thou hast thy selfe defild?
Is not he iust, that all this doth behold
From highest heuen, and beares an equall eie?
Shall he thy sins vp in his knowledge fold,
And guilty be of thine impietie?
Is not his lawe, Let euery sinner die:
Die shall all flesh? what then must needs be donne,
Is it not better to doe willinglie,
Then linger, till the glas be all out ronne?
Death is the end of woes: die soone, O faries sonne.
The knight was much enmoued with his speach,
That as a swords poynt through his [...] did perse,
And in his conscience made a secrete breach,
Well knowing [...] all, that he did reherse,
[Page 133]And to his fresh remembraunce did reuerse,
The vgly vew of his deformed crimes,
That all his manly powres it did disperse,
As he were charmed with inchaunted rimes,
That oftentimes he quakt, and fainted oftentimes.
In which amazement, when the Miscreaunt
Perceiued him to wauer weake and fraile,
Whiles trembling horror did his conscience daunt,
And hellish anguish did his soule assaile,
To driue him to despaire, and quite to quaile,
Hee shewd him painted in a table plaine,
The damned ghosts, that doe in torments waile,
And thousand feends that doe them endlesse paine
With fire and brimstone, which for euer shall remaine.
The sight whereof so throughly him dismaid,
That nought but death before his eies he saw,
And euer burning wrath before him laid,
By righteous sentence of th'Almighties law:
Then gan the villein him to ouercraw,
And brought vnto him swords, ropes, poison, fire,
And all that might him to perdition draw;
And bad him choose, what death he would desire:
For death was dew to him, that had prouokt Gods ire.
But whenas none of them he saw him take,
He to him raught a dagger sharpe and keene,
And gaue it him in hand: his hand did quake,
And tremble like a leafe of Aspin greene,
And troubled blood through his pale face was seene
To come, and goe with tidings from the heart,
As it a ronning messenger had beene.
At last resolu'd to worke his finall smart,
He lifted vp his hand, that backe againe did start.
Which whenas Vna heard, through euery vaine
The crudled cold ran to her well of life,
As in a swowne: but so one reliu'd againe,
Out of his hand she snatcht the cursed knife,
And threw it to the ground, enraged rife,
And to him said, Fie fie, faint hearted knight,
What meanest thou by this reprochfull strife?
Is this the battaile, which thou vauntst to fight
With that fire-mouthed Dragon, horrible and bright?
Come, come away, fraile, feeble, fleshly wight,
Ne let vaine words bewitch thy manly hart,
Ne diuelish thoughts dismay thy constant spright.
In heauenly mercies hast thou not a part?
Why shouldst thou then despeire, that chosen art?
Where iustice growes, there grows eke greter grace,
The which doth quench the brond of hellish smart,
And that accurst hand-writing doth deface.
Arise, Sir knight arise, and leaue this cursed place.
So vp he rose, and thence amounted streight.
VVhich when the carle beheld, and saw his guest
VVould safe depart, for all his subtile sleight,
He chose an halter from among the rest,
And with it hong him selfe, vnbid vnblest.
But death he could not worke himselfe thereby;
For thousand times he so him selfe had drest,
Yet nathelesse it could not doe him die,
Till he should die his last, that is eternally.
Cant. X.
Her faithfull knight faire Vna brings
To house of Holinesse,
Where he is taught repentaunce, and
The way to heuenly blesse.
What man is he, that boasts of fleshly might,
And vaine assuraunce of mortality,
Which all so soone, as it doth come to fight,
Against spirituall foes, yields by and by,
Or from the fielde most cowardly doth fly?
Ne let the man ascribe it to his skill,
That thorough grace hath gained victory.
If any strength we haue, it is to ill,
But all the good is Gods, both power and eke will.
By that, which lately hapned, Vna saw,
That this her knight was feeble, and too faint;
And all his sinewes woxen weake and raw,
Through long enprisonment, and hard constraint,
Which he endured in his late restraint,
That yet he was vnfitt for bloody fight:
Therefore to cherish him with diets daint.
She cast to bring him, where he chearen might,
Till he recouered had his late decayed plight.
There was an auncient house not far away,
Renowmd throughout the world for sacred lore,
And pure vnspotted life: so well they say
It gouernd was, and guided euermore,
[Page 136]Through wisedome of a matrone graue and hore;
Whose onely ioy was to relieue the needes
Of wretched soules, and helpe the helpelesse pore:
All night she spent in bidding of her bedes,
And all the day in doing good and godly deedes.
Dame Caelia men did her call, as thought
From heauen to come, or thether to arise,
The mother of three daughters, well vpbrought
In goodly thewes, and godly exercise:
The eldest two most sober, chast, and wise,
Fidelia and Speranza virgins were,
Though spousd, yet wanting wedlocks solemnize;
But faire Charissa to a louely fere
Was lincked, and by him had many pledges dere.
Arriued there, the dore they find fast lockt;
For it was warely watched night and day,
For feare of many foes: but when they knockt,
The Porter opened vnto them streight way:
He was an aged syre, all hory gray,
With lookes full lowly cast, and gate full slow,
Wont on a staffe his feeble steps to stay,
Hight Humiltá. They passe in stouping low;
For streight & narrow was the way, which he did shew.
Each goodly thing is hardest to begin,
But entred in a spatious court they see,
Both plaine, and pleasaunt to be walked in,
VVhere them does meete a francklin faire and free,
And entertaines with comely courteous glee,
His name was Zele, that him right well became,
For in his speaches and behaueour hee
Did labour liuely to expresse the same,
And gladly did them guide, till to the Hall they came.
There fayrely them receiues a gentle Squyre,
Of myld demeanure, and rare courtesee,
Right cleanly clad in comely sad attyre;
In word and deede that shewd great modestee,
And knew his good to all of each degree,
Hight Reuerence. He them with speaches meet
Does faire entreat; no courting nicetee,
But simple trew, and eke vnfained sweet,
As might become a Squyre so great persons to greet.
And afterwardes them to his Dame he leades,
That aged Dame, the Lady of the place:
Who all this while was busy at her beades:
Which doen, she vp arose with seemely grace,
And toward them full matronely did pace.
Where when that fairest Vna she beheld,
Whom well she knew to spring from heuenly race,
Her heart with ioy vnwonted inly sweld,
As feeling wondrous comfort in her weaker eld.
And her embracing said, O happy earth,
Whereon thy innocent feet doe euer tread,
Most vertuous virgin borne of heuenly berth,
That to redeeme thy woefull parents head,
From tyrans rage, and euer-dying dread,
Hast wandred through the world now long a day;
Yett ceassest not thy weary soles to lead,
What grace hath thee now hether brought this way?
Or doen thy feeble feet vnweeting hether stray?
Straunge thing it is an errant knight to see
Here in this place, or any other wight,
That hether turnes his steps. So few there bee,
That chose the narrow path, or seeke the right:
[Page 138]All keepe the broad high way, and take delight
With many rather for to goe astray,
And be partakers of their euill plight,
Then with a few to walke the rightest way;
O foolish men, why hast ye to your owne decay?
Thy selfe to see, and tyred limbes to rest,
O matrone sage (quoth she) I hether came,
And this good knight his way with me addrest,
Ledd with thy prayses and broad-blazed fame,
That vp to heuen is blowne. The auncient Dame,
Him goodly greeted in her modest guyse,
And enterteynd them both, as best became,
With all the court'sies, that she could deuyse,
Ne wanted ought, to shew her bounteous or wise.
Thus as they gan of sondrie thinges deuise,
Loe two most goodly virgins came in place,
Ylinked arme [...] arme in louely wise,
With countenance demure, and modest grace,
They numbred euen steps and equall pace:
Of which the eldest, that Fidelia hight,
Like sunny beames threw from her Christall face,
That could haue dazd the rash beholders sight,
And round about her head did shine like heuens light.
She was araied all in lilly white,
And in her right hand bore a cup of gold,
With wine and water fild vp to the hight,
In which a Serpent did himselfe enfold,
That horrour made to all, that did behold;
But she no whitt did chaunge her constant mood:
And in her other hand she fast did hold
A booke that was both signd and seald with blood,
Wherin darke things were writt, hard to be vnderstood.
Her younger Sister, that Speranza hight,
Was clad in blew, that her beseemed well;
Not all so chearefull seemed she of sight,
As was her sister; whether dread did dwell,
Or anguish in her hart, is hard to tell:
Vpon her arme a siluer anchor lay,
Whereon she leaned ener, as befell:
And euer vp to heuen, as she did pray,
Her stedfast eyes were bent, ne swarued other way.
They seeing Vna, towardes her gan wend,
Who them encounters with like courtesee;
Many kind speeches they betweene them spend,
And greatly ioy each other for to see:
Then to the knight with shamefast modestie
They turne them selues, at Vnaes meeke request,
And him salute with well beseeming glee;
Who faire them quites, as him beseemed best,
And goodly gan discourse of many a noble gest.
Then Vna thus; But she your sister deare,
The deare Charissa where is she become?
Or wants she health, or busie is elswhere?
Ah no, said they, but forth she may not come:
For she of late is lightned of her wombe,
And hath encreast the world with one sonne more,
That her to see should be but troublesome.
Indeed (quoth she) that should be trouble sore,
But thankt be God, and her encrease so euermore.
Then saide the aged Coelia, Deare dame,
And you good Sir, I wote that of youre toyle,
And labors long, through which ye he ther came,
Ye both forwearied be: therefore a whyle.
[Page 140]I read you rest, and to your bowres recoyle.
Then called she a Groome, that forth him ledd
Into a goodly lodge, and gan despoile.
Of puissant armes, and laid in easie bedd;
His name was meeke Obedience rightfully aredd.
Now when their wearie limbes with kindly rest,
And bodies were refresht with dew repast,
Fayre Vna gan Fidelia fayre request,
To haue her knight into her schoolehous plaste,
That of her heauenly learning he might taste,
And heare the wisedom of her wordes diuine.
She graunted, and that knight so much agraste,
That she him taught celestiall discipline,
And opened his dull eyes, that light mote in them shine.
And that her sacred Booke, with blood ywritt,
That none could reade, except she did them teach.
She vnto him disclosed euery whitt,
And heauenly documents thereout did preach,
That weaker witt of man could neuer reach,
Of God, of grace, of iustice, of free will,
That wonder was to heare her goodly speach:
For she was hable, with her wordes to kill,
And rayse againe to life the hart, that she did thrill.
And when she list poure out her larger spright,
She would commaund the hasty Sunne to stay,
Or backward turne his course from heuen's hight,
Sometimes great hostes of men she could dismay,
And eke huge mountaines from their natiue seat
She would commaund, themselues to beare away,
And throw in raging sea with roaring threat.
Almightie God her gaue such powre, and puissaunce great.
The faithfull knight now grew in litle space,
By hearing her, and by her sisters lore,
To such perfection of all heuenly grace;
That wretched world he gan for to abhore,
And mortall life gan loath, as thing forlore,
Greeud with remembrance of his wicked wayes,
And prickt with anguish of his sinnes so sore,
That he desirde, to end his wretched dayes:
So much the dart of sinfull guilt the soule dismayes,
But wise Speranza gaue him comfort sweet,
And taught him how to take assured hold
Vpon her siluer anchor, as was meet;
Els had his sinnes so great, and manifold
Made him forget all, that Fidelia told.
In this distressed doubtfull agony,
When him his dearest Vna did behold,
Disdeining life, desiring leaue to dye,
She found her selfe assayld with great perplexity
And came to Coelia to declare her smart,
Who well acquainted with that commune plight,
Which sinfull horror workes in wounded hart,
Her wisely comforted all, that she might,
With goodly counsell and aduisement right;
And streightway sent with carefull diligence,
To fetch a Leach, the which had great insight
In that disease of grieued conscience,
And well could cure the same; His name was Patience.
Who comming to that sowle-diseased knight,
Could hardly him intreat, to tell his grief:
Which knowne, and all that noyd his heauie spright,
Well searcht, [...] he gan apply relief.
[Page 142]Of salues and med'cines, which had passing prief,
And there to added wordes of wondrous might:
By which to ease he him recured brief,
And much aswag'd the passion of his plight,
That he his paine endur'd, as seeming now more light.
But yet the cause and root of all his ill,
Inward corruption, and infected sin,
Not purg'd nor heald, behind remained still,
And festring sore did ranckle yett within,
Close creeping twixt the marow and the skin.
Which to extirpe, he laid him priuily
Downe in a darksome lowly place far in,
Whereas he meant his corrosiues to apply,
And with streight diet tame his stubborne malady.
In ashes and sackcloth he did array
His [...] corse, proud humors to abate,
And dieted with fasting euery day,
The swelling of his woundes to mitigate,
And made him pray both earely and eke late:
And euer as superfluous flesh did rott
Amendment readie still at hand did wayt,
To pluck it out with pincers fyrie whott,
That soone in him was lefte no one corrupted iott.
And bitter Penaunce with an yron whip,
Was wont him once to disple euery day:
And sharpe Remorse his hart did prick and nip,
That drops of blood thence like a well did play;
And sad Repentance vsed to embay,
His blamefull body in salt water sore,
The filthy blottes of sin to wash away.
So in short space they did to health restore
The man that would not liue, but erst lay at deathes dore.
In which his torment often was so great,
That like a Lyon he would cry and rore,
And rend his flesh, and his owne synewes [...].
His owne deare Vna hearing euermore
His ruefull shriekes and gronings, often tore
Her guiltlesse garments, and her golden heare,
For pitty of his payne and anguish sore;
Yet all with patience wisely she did beare;
For well she wist, his cryme could els be neuer cleare.
Whom thus recouer'd by wise Patience,
And trew Repentaunce they to Vna brought;
Who ioyous of his cured conscience,
Him dearely kist, and fayrely eke besought
Himselfe to chearish, and consuming thought
To put away out of his carefull brest.
By this Charissa, late in child-bed brought,
Was woxen strong, and left her fruitfull nest;
To her fayre Vna brought this vnacquainted guest.
She was a woman in her freshest age,
Of wondrous beauty, and of bounty rare,
With goodly grace and comely personage,
That was on earth not easie to compare;
Full of great loue, but Cupids wanton snare
As hell she hated, chaste in worke and will;
Her necke and brests were euer open bare,
That ay thereof her babes might sucke their fill;
The rest was all in yellow robes arayed still.
A multitude of babes about her hong,
Playing their sportes, that ioyd her to behold;
Whom still she fed, whiles they were weak & young,
But thrust them forth still, as they wexed old:
[Page 144]And on her head she wore a tyre of gold,
Adornd with gemmes and owches wondrous fayre,
Whose passing price vneath was to be told;
And by her syde there sate a gentle payre
Of turtle doues, she sitting in an yuory chayre.
The knight and Vna entring, fayre her greet,
And bid her ioy of that her happy brood;
Who them requites with court'sies seeming meet,
And entertaynes with friendly chearefull mood.
Then Vna her besought, to be so good,
As in her vertuous rules to schoole her knight,
Now after all his torment well withstood,
In that sad house of Penaunce, where his spright
Had past the paines of hell, and long enduring night.
She was rightioyious of her iust request,
And taking by the hand that Faeries sonne,
Gan him instruct in euerie good behest,
Of loue, and righteousnes, and well to donne,
And wrath, and hatred warely to shonne,
That drew on men Gods hatred, and his wrath,
And many soules in dolours had fordonne:
In which when him she well instructed hath,
From thence to heauē she teacheth him the ready path.
Wherein his weaker wandring steps to guyde,
An auncient matrone she to her does call,
Whose sober lookes her wisedome well descryde:
Her name was Mercy, well knowne ouer all,
To be both gratious, and eke liberall:
To whom the carefull charge of him she gaue,
To leade aright, that he should neuer fall
In all his waies through this wide worldes waue,
That Mercy in the end his righteous soule might saue.
The godly Matrone by the hand him beares
Forth from her presence, by a narrow way,
Scattred with bushy thornes, and ragged breares,
Which still before him she remou'd away,
That nothing might his ready passage stay:
And euer when his feet encombred were,
Or gan to shrinke, or from the right to stray,
She held him fast, and firmely did vpbeare,
As carefull Nourse her child from falling oft does reare.
Eftsoones vnto an holy Hospitall,
That was fore by the way, she did him bring,
In which seuen Bead-men that had vowed all
Their life to seruice of high heauens king
Did spend their daies in doing godly thing:
There gates to all were open euermore,
That by the wearie way were traueiling,
And one sate wayting euer them before,
To call in-commers by, that needy were and pore.
The first of them that eldest was, and best,
Of all the house had charge and gouernement,
As Guardian and Steward of the rest:
His office was to giue entertainement
And lodging, vnto all that came, and went:
Not vnto such, as could him feast againe,
And double quite, for that he on them spent,
But such, as want of harbour did constraine:
Those for Gods sake his dewty was to entertaine.
The second was as Almner of the place,
His office was, the hungry for to feed,
And thristy giue to drinke, a worke of grace:
He feard not once him selfe to be in need,
[Page 146]Ne car'd to hoord for those, whom he did breede:
The grace of God he layd vp still in store,
Which as a stocke he left vnto his seede;
He had enough, what need him care for more?
And had he lesse, yet some he would giue to the pore.
The third had of their wardrobe custody,
In which were not rich tyres, nor garments gay,
The plumes of pride, and winges of vanity,
But clothes meet to keepe keene cold away,
And naked nature seemely to aray;
With which bare wretched wights he dayly clad,
The images of God in earthly clay;
And if that no spare clothes to giue he had,
His owne cote he would cut, and it distribute glad.
The fourth appointed by his office was,
Poore prisoners to relieue with gratious ayd,
And captiues to redeeme with price of bras,
From Turkes and Sarazins, which them had stayd;
And though they faulty were, yet well he wayd,
That God to vs forgiueth euery howre
Much more then that, why they in bands were layd,
And he that harrowd hell with heauie stowre,
The faulty soules from thence brought to his heauenly bowre.
The fift had charge sick persons to attend,
And comfort those, in point of death which lay;
For them most needeth comfort in the end,
When sin, and hell, and death doe most dismay
The feeble soule departing hence away.
All is but lost, that liuing we bestow,
If not well ended at our dying day.
O man haue mind of that last bitter throw;
For as the tree does fall, so lyes it euer low.
The sixt had charge of them now being dead,
In seemely sort their corses to engraue,
And deck with dainty flowres their brydall bed,
That to their heauenly spouse both sweet and braue
They might appeare, when he their soules shall saue.
The wondrous workmanship of Gods owne mould,
Whose face he made, all beastes to feare, and gaue
All in his hand, euen dead we honour should.
Ah dearest God me graunt, I dead be not defould.
The seuenth now after death and buriall done,
Had charge the tender Orphans of the dead
And wydowes ayd, least they should be vndone:
In face of iudgement he their right would plead,
Ne ought the powre of mighty men did dread
In their defence, nor would for gold or fee
Be wonne their rightfull causes downe to tread:
And when they stood in most necessitee,
He did supply their want, and gaue them euer free.
There when the Elfin knight arriued was,
The first and chiefest of the seuen, whose care
Was guests to welcome, towardes him did pas:
Where seeing Mercie, that his steps vpbare,
And alwaies led, to her with reuerence rare
He humbly louted in meeke lowlinesse,
And seemely welcome for her did prepare:
For of their order she was Patronesse,
Albe Charissa were their chiefest founderesse.
There she awhile him stayes, him selfe to rest,
That to the rest more hable he might bee:
During which time, in euery good behest
And godly worke of Almes and charitee
[Page 148]Shee him instructed with great [...];
Shortly therein so perfect he became,
That from the first vnto the last degree,
His mortall life he learned had to frame
In holy righteousnesse, without rebuke or blame.
Thence forward by that painfull way they pas,
Forth to an hill, that was both steepe and hy;
On top whereof a sacred chappell was,
And eke a litle Hermitage thereby
Wherein an aged holy man did lie,
That day and night said his deuotion,
Ne other worldly busines did apply;
His name was heuenly Contemplation;
Of God and goodnes was his meditation.
Great grace that old man to him giuen had;
For God he often saw from heauens hight,
All were his earthly eien both blunt and bad,
And through great age had lost their kindly sight,
Yet wondrous quick and persaunt was his spright,
As Eagles eie, that can behold the Sunne:
That hill they scale with all their powre and might,
That his [...] thighes nigh [...], and fordonne
Gan faile, but by her helpe the top at last he wonne.
There they doe finde that godly aged Sire,
With snowy lockes adowne his shoulders shed,
As hoary frost with spangles doth attire
The mossy braunches of an Oke halfe ded.
Each bone might through his body well be red,
And euery sinew seene through his long fast:
For nought he car'd his carcas long vnfed;
His mind was full of spirituall repast,
And pyn'd his flesh, to keepe his body low and chast.
Who when these two approching he aspide,
At their first presence grew agrieued sore,
That forst him lay his heuenly thoughts aside;
And had he not that Dame respected more,
Whom highly he did reuerence and adore,
He would not once haue moued for the knight.
They him saluted standing far afore;
Who well them greeting, humbly did requight,
And asked, to what end they clomb that redious hight.
What end (qd. she) should cause vs take such paine,
But that same end, which euery liuing wight
Should make his marke, high heauen to attaine?
Is not from hence the way, that leadeth right
To that most glorious house, that glistreth bright
With burning starres, and euerliuing fire,
Where of the keies are to thy hand behight
By wise Fidelia? shee doth thee require,
To shew it to this knight, according his desire.
Thrise happy man, said then the father graue,
Whose staggering steps thy steady hand doth lead,
And shewes the way, his sinfull soule to saue.
Who better can the way to heauen aread,
Then thou thy selfe, that was both borne and bred
In heuenly throne, where thousand Angels shine?
Thou do est the praiers of the righteous sead
Present before the maiesty diuine,
And his auenging wrath to clemency incline.
Yet since thou bidst, thy pleasure shalbe donne.
Then come thou man of earth, and see the way,
That neuer yet was seene of Faries sonne,
That neuer leads the traueiler astray,
[Page 150]But after labors long, and sad delay,
Bring them to ioyous rest and endlesse blis.
But first thou must a season fast and pray,
Till from her bands the spright assoiled is,
And haue her strength recur'd from fraile infirmitis.
That done, he leads him to the highest Mount;
Such one, as that same mighty man of God,
That blood-red billowes like a walled front
On either side disparted with his rod,
Till that his army dry-foot through them yod,
Dwelt forty daies vpon; where writt in stone
VVith bloody letters by the hand of God,
The bitter doome of death and balefull mone
He did receiue, whiles flashing fire about him shone.
Or like that sacred hill, whose head full hie,
Adornd with fruitfull Oliues all arownd,
Is, as it were for endlesse memory
Of that deare Lord, who oft thereon was fownd,
For euer with a flowring girlond crownd:
Or like that pleasaunt Mount, that is foray
Through famous [...] verse each where renownd,
On which the thrife three learned Ladies play
Their heuenly notes, and make full many a louely lay.
From [...], far off he vnto him did shew
A litle path, that was both steepe and long,
Which to a goodly Citty led his vew;
Whose wals and towres were builded high & strong
Of perle and [...] stone, that earthly tong
Cannot describe, nor wit of man can tell;
Too high a ditty for my simple song:
The Citty of the greate king hight it well,
Wherein eternall peace and happinesse doth dwell.
As he thereon stood gazing, he might see
The blessed Angels to and fro descend.
From highest heuen, in gladsome companee,
And with great ioy into that Citty wend,
As commonly as frend does with his frend.
Whereat he wondred much, and gan enquere,
What stately building durst so high extend
Her lofty towres vnto the starry sphere,
And what vnknowen nation there empeopled were.
Faire knight (qd. he) [...] that is,
The new Hierusalem, that God has built
For those to dwell in, that are chosen his,
His chosen people purg'd from sinful guilt,
With piteous blood, which cruelly was spilt
On cursed tree, of that vnspotted lam,
That for the sinnes of al the world was kilt:
Now are they Saints all in that Citty sam,
More dear vnto their God, then yoūglings to their dam.
Till now, said then the knight, I weened well,
That great Cleopolis, where I haue beene,
In which that fairest Fary Queene doth dwell
The fairest Citty was, that might be seene;
And that bright towre all built of christall clene,
Panthea, seemd the brightest thing, that was:
But now by proofe all otherwise I weene;
For this great Citty that does far surpas,
And this bright Angels towre quite dims that towre of glas.
Most trew, then said the holy aged man;
Yet is Gleopolis for earthly fame,
The fairest peece, that eie beholden can:
And well beseemes all knights of noble name,
[Page 152]That couett in th'immortall booke of fame
To be eternized, that same to haunt,
And doen their seruice to that soueraigne Dame,
That glory does to them for guerdon graunt:
For she is heuenly borne, and heauen may iustly vaunt.
And thou faire ymp, sprong out from English race,
How euer now accompted Elfins sonne,
Well worthy doest thy seruice for her grace,
To aide a virgin desolate foredonne.
But when thou famous victory hast wonne,
And high emongst all knights hast hong thy shield,
Thenceforth the suitt of earthly conquest shonne,
And wash thy hands from guilt of bloody field:
For blood can nought but sin, & wars but sorrows yield.
Then seek this path, that I to thee presage,
Which after all to heauen shall thee send;
Then peaceably thy painefull pilgrimage
To yonder same Hierusalem doe bend,
Where is for thee ordaind a blessed end:
For thou emongst those Saints, whom thou doest see,
Shalt be a Saint, and thine owne nations frend
And Patrone: thou Saint George shalt called bee,
Saint George of mery England, the signe of victoree.
Vnworthy wretch (qd. he) of so great grace,
How dare I thinke such glory to attaine;
These that haue it attaynd, were in like cace
As wretched men, and liued in like paine.
But deeds of armes must I at last be faine,
And Ladies loue to leaue so dearely bought?
What need of armes, where peace doth ay remaine,
(Said he) and bitter battailes all ate fought?
As for loose loues they'are vaine, & vanish into nought.
O let me not (quoth he) then turne againe
Backe to the world, whose ioyes so fruitlesse are,
But let me heare for aie in peace remaine,
Or streight way on that last long voiage fare,
That nothing may my present hope empare.
That may not be (said he) ne maist thou yitt
Forgoe that royal maides bequeathed care,
Who did her cause into thy hand committ,
Till from her cursed foe thou haue her freely quitt.
Then shall I soone, (qd. he) so God me grace,
Abett that virgins cause disconsolate,
And shortly back returne vnto this place,
To walke this way in Pilgrims poore estate.
But now aread, old father, why of late
Didst thou behight me borne of English blood,
Whom all a Faeries sonne doen nominate?
That word shall I (said he) auouchen good,
Sith to thee is vnknowne the cradle of thy brood.
For well I wote, thou springst from ancient race
Of Saxon kinges, that haue with mightie hand
And many bloody battailes fought in [...]
High reard their royall throne in Britans land
And vanquisht them, vnable to withstand:
From thence a Faery thee [...] reft,
There as thou slepst in tender swadling band,
And her base Elfin brood there for thee left.
Such men do Chaungelings call, so chaungd by Faeries theft.
Thence she thee brought into this Faery lond,
And in an heaped furrow did thee hyde,
Where thee a Ploughman all vnweeting fond,
As he his toylesome teme that way did guyde,
[Page 154]And btought thee vp [...] ploughmans state to byde,
Whereof Georgos he thee gaue to name;
Till prickt with courage, and thy forces pryde,
To Fary court thou cam'st to seeke for fame,
And proue thy puissaunt armes, as seemes thee best became.
O holy Sire (quoth he) how shall I quight
The many fauours I with thee haue fownd,
That hast my name and nation redd aright,
And taught the way that does to heauen bownd?
This saide, adowne he looked to the grownd,
To haue returnd, but dazed were his eyne,
Through passing brightnes, which did quite cōfound
His feeble sence, and too exceeding shyne.
So darke are earthly thinges compard to things diuine.
At last whenas himselfe he gan to fynd,
To Vna back he cast him to retyre;
Who him awaited still with pensiue mynd.
Great thankes and goodly meed to that good syre,
He thens departing gaue for his paynes hyre.
So came to Vna, who him ioyd to see,
And after litle rest, gan him desyre,
Of her aduenture myndfull for to bee.
So leaue they take of Coelia, and her daughters three.
Cant XI.
The knight with that old Dragon fights
two dayes incessantly:
The third him ouerthrowes, and gayns
most glorious victory.
HIgh time now gan it wex for Vna fayre,
To thinke of those her captiue Parents deare,
And their for wasted kingdom to repayre:
Whereto whenas they now approched neare,
With hartie wordes her knight she gan to cheare,
And in her modest maner thus bespake;
Deare knight, as deare, as euer knight was deare,
That all these sorrowes suffer for my sake,
High heuen behold the tedious toyle, ye for me take.
Now are we come vnto my natiue soyle,
And to the place, where all our perilles dwell;
Here hauntes that feend, and does his dayly spoyle,
Therefore henceforth bee it your keeping well,
And euer ready for your foeman fell.
The sparke of noble corage now awake,
And striue your excellent selfe to excell;
That shall ye euermore renowmed make,
Aboue all knights on earth, that batteill vndertake.
With that they heard a roaring hideous sownd,
That all the ayre with terror filled wyde,
And seemd vneath to shake the stedfast ground.
Eftsoones that dreadfull Dragon they espyde,
[Page 156]Where stretcht he lay vpon the sunny side,
Of a great hill, himselfe like a great hill.
But all so soone, as he from far descryde
Those glistring armes, that heuen with light did fill,
He rousd himselfe full blyth, and hastned them vntill.
Then badd the knight this Lady yede aloof,
And to an hill her selfe withdraw asyde,
From whence she might behold that battailles proof
And ēke be safe from daunger far descryde:
She him obayd, and turnd a litle wyde,
Now O thou sacred Muse, most learned Dame,
Fayre ympe of Phoebus, and his aged bryde,
The Nourse of time, and euerlasting fame,
That warlike handes ennoblest with immortall name;
O gently come into my feeble brest,
Come gently, but not with that mightie rage,
Wherewith the martiall troupes thou doest infest,
And hartes of great Heroës doest enrage,
That nought their kindled corage may aswage,
Soone as thy dreadfull trompe begins to sownd;
The God of warre with his fiers equipage
Thou doest awake, sleepe neuer he so sownd,
And feared nations doest with horror sterne astownd.
Fayre Goddesse lay that furious fitt asyde,
Till I of warres and bloody Mars doe sing,
And Bryton fieldes with Sarazin blood bedyde,
Twixt that great faery Queene and Paynim king,
That with their horror heuen and earth did ring,
A worke of labour long, and endlesse prayse:
But now a while lett downe that haughtie string,
And to my tunes thy second tenor rayse,
That I this man of God his godly armes may blaze.
By this the dreadfull Beast drew nigh to hand,
Halfe flying, and halfe footing in his haste,
That with his largenesse measured much land,
And made wide shadow vnder his huge waste;
As mountaine doth the valley ouercaste.
Approching nigh, he reared high afore
His body monstrous, horrible, and vaste,
Which to increase his wondrous greatnes more,
Was swoln with wrath, & poyson, & with bloody gore.
And ouer, all with brasen scales was armd,
Like plated cote of steele, so couched neare,
That nought mote perce, ne might his corse bee harmd
With dint of swerd, nor push of pointed speare,
Which as an Eagle, seeing pray appeare,
His aery plumes doth rouze, full rudely dight,
So shaked he, that horror was to heare,
For as the clashing of an Armor bright,
Such noyse his rouzed scales did send vnto the knight.
His flaggy winges when forth he did display,
Were like two sayles, in which the hollow wynd
Is gathered full, and worketh speedy way:
And eke the pennes, that did his pineons bynd,
Were like mayne-yardes, with flying canuas kynd,
With which whenas him list the ayre to beat,
And there by force vnwonted passage fynd,
The clowdes before him fledd for terror great,
And all the heuens stood still amazed with his threat.
His huge long tayle wownd vp in hundred foldes,
Does ouerspred his long bras-scaly back,
Whose wreathed boughtes when euer he vnfoldes,
And thick entangled knots adown does slack,
[Page 158]Bespotted all with shieldes of red and blacke,
It sweepeth all the land behind him farre,
And of three furlongs does but litle lacke;
And at the point two stinges in fixed arre,
Both deadly sharp, that sharpest steele exceeden farr.
But stinges and sharpest steele did far exceed
The sharpnesse of his cruel rending clawes;
Dead was it sure, as sure as death in deed,
What euer thing does touch his rauenous pawes,
Or what within his reach he euer drawes.
But his most hideous head my tongue to tell,
Does tremble: for his deepe deuouring iawes
Wyde gaped, like the griesly mouth of hell,
Through which into his darke abysse all rauin fell.
And that more wondrous was, in either iaw
Three ranckes [...] teeth enraunged were,
In which yett trickling blood and gobbets raw
Of late deuoured bodies did appeare,
That sight thereof bredd cold congealed feare:
Which to increase, and all atonce to kill,
A cloud of smoothering smoke and sulphure seare
Out of his stinking gorge forth steemed still,
That all the ayre about with smoke and stench did fill.
His blazing eyes, like two bright shining shieldes,
Did burne with wrath, and sparkled liuing fyre;
As two broad Beacons, sett in open fieldes,
Send forth their flames far of to euery shyre,
And warning giue, that enimies conspyre,
With fire and sword the region to inuade;
So flam'd his eyne with rage and rancorous yre:
But far within, as in a hollow glade,
Those glaring lampes were sett, that made a dreadfull shade.
So dreadfully he towardes him did pas,
Forelifting vp a loft his speckled brest,
And often bounding on the brused gras,
As for great ioyaunce of his new come guest.
Eftsoones he gan aduaunce his haughty crest,
As chauffed Bore his bristles doth vpreare,
And shoke his scales to battaile ready drest;
That made the Redcrosse knight nigh quake for feare,
As bidding bold defyaunce to his foeman neare.
The knight gan fayrely couch his steady speare,
And fiersely ran at him with rigorous might:
The pointed steele arriuing rudely theare,
His harder hyde would nether perce, nor bight,
But glauncing by foorth passed forward right;
Yet sore amoued with so puissaunt push,
The wrathfull beast about him turned light,
And him so rudely passing by, did brush
With his long tayle, that horse and man to ground did rush.
Both horse and man vp lightly rose againe,
And fresh encounter towardes him addrest:
But th'ydle stroke yet backe recoyld in vaine,
And found no place his deadly point to rest.
Exceeding rage enflam'd the furious beast,
To be auenged of so great despight;
For neuer felt his imperceable brest
So wondrous force, from hand of liuing wight;
Yet had he prou'd the powre of many a puissant knight.
Then with his wauing wings displayed wyde,
Himselfe vp high he lifted from the ground,
And with strong flight did forcibly diuyde
The yielding ayre, which nigh too feeble found
[Page 160]Her flitting parts, and element vnsound,
To beare so great a weight: he cutting way
With his broad sayles, about him soared round:
At last low stouping with vnweldy sway,
Snatcht vp both horse & man, to beare thē quite away.
Long he them bore aboue the subiect plaine,
So far as Ewghen bow a shaft may send,
Till struggling strong did him at last constraine,
To let them downe before his flightes end:
As hagard hauke presuming to contend
With hardy fowle, aboue his hable might,
His wearie pounces all in vaine doth spend,
To trusse the pray too heauy for his flight;
Which comming down to ground, does free it selfe by fight.
He so disseized of his gryping grosse,
The knight his thrillant speare againe assayd
In his bras-plated body to embosse,
And three mens strength vnto the stroake he Iayd;
Wherewith the stiffe [...] quaked, as affrayd,
And glauncing from his scaly necke, did glyde
Close vnder his left wing, then broad displayd.
The percing steele there wrought a wound full wyde,
That with the vncouth smart the Monster lowdly cryde.
He cryde, as raging seas are wont to rore,
When wintry storme his wrathful wreck does threat,
The rolling billowes beat the ragged shore,
As they the earth would shoulder from her seat,
And greedy gulfe does gape, as he would eat
His neighbour element in his reuenge:
Then gin the blustring brethren boldly threat,
To moue the world from off his stedfast henge,
And boystrous battaile make, each other to auenge.
The steely head stuck fast still in his flesh,
Till with his cruell clawes he snatcht the wood,
And quite a sunder broke. Forth flowed fresh
A gushing riuer of blacke gory blood,
That drowned all the land, whereon he stood;
The streame thereof would driue a water-mill.
Trebly angmented was his furious mood
With bitter sence of his deepe rooted ill,
That flames of fire he threw forth frō his large nosethril.
His hideous tayle then hurled he about,
And therewith all enwrapt the nimble thyes
Of his froth-fomy steed, whose courage stout
Striuing to loose the knott, that fast him tyes,
Himselfe in streighter bandes too rash implyes,
That to the ground he is perforce constraynd
To throw his ryder: who can quickly ryse
From of the earth, with durty blood distaynd,
For that reprochfull fall right fowly he disdaynd.
And fercely tooke his trenchand blade in hand,
With which he stroke so furious and so fell,
That nothing seemd the puissaunce could withstand:
Vpon his crest the hardned yron fell,
But his more hardned crest was armd so well,
That deeper dint therein it would not make;
Yet so extremely did the buffe him quell,
That from thenceforth he shund the like to take,
But when he saw them come, he did them still forsake.
The knight was wroth to see his stroke beguyld,
And smot againe with more outrageous might;
But backe againe the sparcling steele recoyld,
And left not any marke, where it did light;
[Page 162]As if in Adamant rocke it had beene pight,
The beast impatient of his smarting wound,
And of so fierce and forcible despight,
Thought with his winges to stye aboue the ground;
But his late wounded wing vnseruiceable found.
Then full of griefe and anguish vehement,
He lowdly brayd, that like was neuer heard,
And from his wide deuouring ouen sent
A flake of fire, that flashing in his beard,
Him all amazd, and almost made afeard:
The scorching flame sore swinged all his face,
And through his armour all his body seard,
That he could not endure so cruell cace,
But thought his armes to leaue, and helmet to vnlace.
Not that great Champion of the antique world,
Whom famous Poetes verse so much doth vaunt,
And hath for twelue huge labours high extold,
So many furies and sharpe fits did haunt,
When him the poysoned garment did enchaunt
With Centaures blood, and bloody verses charmd,
As did this knight twelue thousand dolours daunt,
Whom fyrie steele now burnt, that erst him armd,
That erst him goodly armd, now most of all him harmd.
Faynt, wearie, sore, emboyled, grieued, brent
With heat, toyle, wounds, armes, smart, & inward fire
That neuer man such mischiefes did torment;
Death better were, death did he oft desire,
But death will neuer come, when needes require.
Whom so dismayd when that his foe beheld,
He cast to suffer him no more respire,
But gan his sturdy sterne about to weld,
And him so strongly stroke, that to the ground him feld.
It fortuned (as fayre it then befell,)
Behynd his backe vnweeting, where he stood,
Of auncient time there was a springing well,
From which fast trickled forth a siluer flood,
Full of great vertues, and for med'cine good.
Whylome, before that cursed Dragon got
That happy land, and all with innocent blood
Defyld those sacred waues, it rightly hot
The well of life, ne yet his vertues had forgot.
For vnto life the dead it could restore,
And guilt of sinfull crimes cleane wash away,
Those that with sicknesse were infected sore,
It could recure, and aged long decay
Renew, as it were borne that very day.
Both Silo this, and Iordan did excell,
And th'English Bath, and eke the german Spau,
Ne can Cephise, nor Hebrus match this well:
Into the same the knight back ouerthrowen, fell.
Now gan the golden Phoebus for to steepe
His fierie face in billowes of the west;
And his faint steedes watred in Ocean deepe,
Whiles from their iournall labours they did rest,
When that infernall Monster, hauing kest
His wearie foe into that liuing well,
Can high aduaunce his broad discoloured brest,
Aboue his wonted pitch, with countenance sell,
And clapt his yron wings, as victor he did dwell.
Which when his pensiue Lady saw from farre,
Great woe and sorrow did her soule assay,
As weening that the sad end of the warre,
And gan to highest God entirely pray,
[Page 164]That feared chaunce from her to turne away;
With folded hands and knees full lowly bent
All night shee watcht, ne once adowne would lay
Her dainty limbs in her sad dreriment,
But praying still did wake, and waking did lament.
The morrow next gan earely to appeare,
That Titan rose to runne his daily tace;
But earely ere the morrow next gan reare
Out of the sea faire Titans deawy face,
Vp rose the gentle virgin from her place,
And looked all about, if she might spy
Her loued knight to moue his manly [...]:
For she had great doubt of his safety,
Since late she saw him fall before his enimy.
At last she saw, where he vpstarted braue
Out of the well, wherein he drenched lay;
As Eagle fresh out of the Ocean waue,
Where he hath lefte his plumes all hory gray,
And deckt himselfe with fethers youthly gay,
Like Eyas hauke vp mounts vnto the skies,
His newly budded pineons to assay,
And merueiles at him selfe, stil as he flies:
So vew this new-borne knight to battell new did [...].
Whom when the damned feend so fresh did spy,
No wonder, if he wondred at the sight,
and doubted, whether his late enimy
It were, or other new supplied knight.
He, now to proue his late renewed might,
High brandishing his bright deaw-burning blade,
Vpon his crested scalp so sore did smite,
That to the scull a yawning wound it made:
The deadly dint his dulled sences all dismaid.
I wote not, whether the reuenging steele
Were hardned with that holy water dew,
Wherein he fell, or sharper edge did feele,
Or his baptized hands now greater grew;
Or other secret vertue did ensew;
Els neuer could the force of fleshly arme,
Ne molten mettall in his blood embrew:
For till that stownd could neuer wight him harme,
By subtilty, nor slight, nor might, nor mighty charme.
The cruell wound enraged him so sore,
That loud he yelded for exceeding paine;
As hundred ramping Lions seemd to rore,
Whom rauenous hunger did thereto constraine:
Then gan he tosse aloft his stretched traine,
And there with scourge the buxome aire so sore,
That to his force to yielden it was faine;
Ne ought his sturdy strokes might stand afore,
That high trees ouerthrew, and rocks in peeces tore.
The same aduauncing high aboue his head,
With sharpe intended sting so rude him smott,
That to the earth him droue, as stricken dead,
Ne liuing wight would haue him life behott:
The mortall sting his angry needle shott
Quite through his shield, and in his shoulder seasd,
VVhere fast it stucke, ne would thereout be gott:
The griefe thereof him wondrous sore diseasd,
Ne might his rancling paine with patience be appeasd.
But yet more mindfull of his honour deare,
Then of the grieuous smart, which him did wring,
From loathed soile he can him lightly reare,
And stroue to loose the far infixed sting:
[Page 166]Which when in vaine he tryde with struggeling,
Inflam'd with wrath, his raging blade he hefte,
And strooke so strongly, that the knotty string
Of his huge taile he quite a sonder clefte,
Fiue ioints thereof he hewd, & but the stump him lefte.
Hart cannot thinke, what outrage, and what cries,
VVith fowle enfouldred smoake and flashing fire,
The hell-bred beast threw forth vnto the skies,
That all was couered with darknesse dire:
Then fraught with rancour, and engorged yre,
He cast at once him to [...] for all,
And gathering vp himselfe out of the mire,
With his vneuen wings did fiercely fall,
Vpon his sunne-bright shield, and grypt it fast withall.
Much was the man encombred with his hold,
In feare to lose his weapon in his paw,
Ne wist yett, how his talaunts to vnfold;
For harder was from Cerberus greedy iaw
To plucke a bone, then from his cruell claw
To reaue by strength, the griped gage away:
Thrise he assayd it from his foote to draw,
And thrise in vaine to draw it did assay,
It booted nought to thinke, to robbe him of his pray.
Tho when he saw no power might preuaile,
His trusty sword he cald to his last aid,
Wherewith he fiersly did his foe assaile,
And double blowes about him stoutly laid,
That glauncing fire out of the yron plaid;
As sparckles from the Anduile vse to fly,
When heauy hammers on the wedg are swaid;
Therewith at last he forst him to vnty
One of his grasping feete, him to defend threby.
The other foote, fast fixed on his shield
Whenas no strength, nor stroks [...] him constraine
To loose, ne yet the warlike pledg to yield,
He smott thereat with all his might and maine,
[...] nought so wōdrous puissaunce might sustaine;
Vpon the ioint the lucky steele did light,
And made such way, that [...] it quite in twaine;
The paw yett missed not his minisht might,
But hong still on the shield, as it at first was pight.
For griefe thereof, and diuelish despight,
From his infernall fournace forth he threw
Huge flames, that dimmed all the heuens light,
Enrold in duskish smoke and brimstone blew;
As burning Aetna from his boyling [...]
Doth belch out flames, and rockes in peeces broke,
And ragged ribs of mountaines molten new,
[...] in coleblacke clowds and filthy smoke,
That al the land with stēch, & heuen with horror choke.
The heate whereof, and harmefull pestilence
So sore him noyd, that forst him to retire
A litle backeward for his best defence,
To saue his body from the scorching fire,
Which he from hellish entrailes did expire.
It chaunst (eternall God that chaunce did guide)
As he recoiled backeward, in the mire
His nigh foreweried feeble feet did slide,
And downe he fell, with dread of shame sore terrifide.
There grew a goodly tree him faire beside,
Loaden with fruit and apples rosy redd,
As they in pure vermilion had beene dide,
Whereof great vertues ouer all were redd:
[Page 168]For happy life to all, which thereon fedd,
And life eke euerlasting did befall:
Great God it planted in that blessed stedd
With his Almighty hand, and did it call
The tree of life, the crime of our first fathers fall.
In all the world like was not to be fownd,
Saue in that soile, where all good things did grow,
And freely sprong out of the fruitfull grownd,
As incorrupted Nature did them sow,
Till that dredd Dragon all did ouerthow.
Another like faire tree eke grew thereby,
Whereof who so did eat, eftsoones did know
Both good and ill: O mournfull memory:
That tree through one mās fault hath doen vs all to dy.
From that first tree forth flowd, as from a well,
A trickling streame of Balme, most soueraine
And dainty deare, which on the ground still fell,
And ouerflowed all the fertile plaine,
As it had deawed bene with timely raine:
Life and long health that [...] ointment gaue,
And deadly wounds could heale, and reare againe
The sencelesse corse appointed for the graue.
Inio that same he fell: which did from death him saue.
For nigh thereto the euer damned Beast
Durst not approch, for he was deadly made,
And al that life preserued, did detest:
Yet he it oft aduentur'd to inuade.
By this the drouping day-light gan to fade,
And yied his rowme to sad succeeding night,
Who with her sable mantle gan to shade
The face of earth, and wayes of liuing wight,
And high her burning torch set vp in heauen bright.
When gentle Vna saw the second fall
Of her deare knight, who weary of long [...],
And faint through losse of blood, moou'd not at all, might
But lay as in a dreame of deepe delight,
Besmeard with pretious Balme, whose vertuous
Did heale his woundes, and scorching heat alay,
Againe she stricken was with sore affright,
And for his safetie gan deuoutly pray;
And watch the noyous night, and wait for ioyous day.
The ioyous day gan early to appeare,
And fayre Aurora from the deawy bed
Of aged Tithone gan her selfe to reare,
With rosy cheekes, for shame as [...] red;
Her golden locks for hast were loosely [...]
About her eares, when Vna her did marke
Clymbe to her charet, all with flowers spred;
From heuen high to chace the chearelesse darke,
With mery note her lowd salutes the mounting larke.
Then freshly vp arose the doughty knight,
All healed of his hurts and woundes wide,
And did himselfe to battaile ready dight;
Whose early foe awaiting him beside
To haue deuourd, so soone as day he spyde,
When now he saw himselfe so freshly reare,
As if late fight had nought him damnifyde,
He woxe dismaid, and gan his fate to feare;
Nathlesse with wonted rage he him aduaunced nearé.
And in his first encounter, gaping wyde,
He thought attonce him to haue swallowd quight,
And rusht vpon him with outragious pryde;
Who him rencountring fierce, as hauke in flight,
[Page 170]Perforce rebutted backe. The weapon bright
Taking aduantage of his open [...],
Ran through his mouth with so importune might,
That deepe emperst his darksom hollow maw,
And back retyrd, his life blood forth with all did draw.
So downe he fell, and forth his life did breath;
That vanisht into smoke and cloudes swift;
So downe he fell, that the'arth him vnderneath
Did grone, as feeble so great load to lift;
So downe he fell, as an huge rocky clift,
Whose false foundacion waues haue washt away,
With dreadfull poyse is from the mayneland rift,
And [...] downe, great Neptune doth dismay;
So downe he fell, and like an [...] mountaine lay.
The knight him selfe euen trembled at his fall,
So huge and horrible a masse it seemd;
And his [...] Lady, that beheld it all,
Durst not approch for dread, which she misdeemd,
But yet at last, whenas the [...]
She saw not stirre, of-shaking [...] affright,
She nigher drew, and saw that ioyous end:
Then God she praysd, and thankt her faithfull knight,
That had atchieude so great a conquest by his might.
Cant. XII.
Fayre Una to the Redcrosse knight
betrouthed is with ioy:
Though false Duessa it to barre
Her false sleightes doe imploy.
BEhold I see the hauen nigh at hand,
To which I meane my wearie course to bend;
Vere the maine shete, and beare vp with the land,
The which afore is fayrly to be kend,
And seemeth safe from storms, that may offend;
There this fayre virgin wearie of her way
Must landed bee, now at her iourneyes end:
There eke my feeble barke a while may stay,
Till mery wynd and weather call her thence away.
Scarsely had Phoebus in the glooming East
Yett harnessed his fyrie-footed teeme,
Ne reard aboue the earth his flaming creast,
When the last deadly smoke aloft did steeme,
That signe of last outbreathed life did seeme,
Vnto the watchman on the castle wall;
Who thereby dead that balefull Beast did deeme,
And to his Lord and Lady lowd gan call,
To tell, how he had seene the Dragons fatall fall,
Vprose with hasty ioy, and feeble speed
That aged Syre, the Lord of all that land,
And looked forth, to weet, if trew indeed
Those tydinges were, as he did vnderstand,
[Page 172]Which whenas trew by try all he out fond,
He badd to open wyde his brasen gate,
Which long time had beene shut, and out of hond
Proclaymed ioy and peace through all his state;
For dead now was their foe, which them forrayed late.
Then gan triumphant Trompets sownd on hye,
That sent to heuen the ecchoed report
Of their new ioy, and happie victory
Gainst him, that had them long opprest with tort,
And fast imprisoned in sieged fort.
Then all the people, as in solemne feast,
To him assembled with one full consort,
Reioycing at the fall of that great beast,
From whose eternall bondage now they were releast.
Forth came that auncient Lord and [...] Queene,
Arayd in antique robes downe to the grownd,
And sad habiliments right well [...];
A noble crew about them waited rownd
Ofsage and sober Peres, all grauely gownd;
Whom far before did march a goodly band
Of tall young men, all hable armes to sownd,
But now they laurell braunches bore in hand;
Glad signe of victory and peace in all their land.
Vnto that doughtie Conquerour they came,
And him before themselues prostrating low,
Their Lord and Patrone loud did him proclame,
And at his feet their lawrell boughes did throw.
Soone after them all dauncing on a row
The comely virgins came, with girlands dight,
As fresh as flowres in medow greene doe grow,
When morning deaw vpon their leaues doth light:
And in their handes sweet Timbrels all vpheld on hight.
And them before, the fry of children yong
Their wanton sportes and childish mirth did play,
And to the Maydens sownding tymbrels song
In well attuned notes, a ioyous lay,
And made delightfull musick all the way,
Vntill they came, where that faire virgin stood;
As fayre Diana in fresh sommers day,
Beholdes her Nymphes, enraung'd in shady wood,
Some wrestle, some do run, some bathe in christall flood,
So she beheld those may dens meriment.
With chearefull vew; who when to her they came,
Themselues to ground with gracious humblesse [...]
And her ador'd by honorable name,
Lifting to heuen her euerlasting fame:
Then on her head they sett agirlond greene,
And crowned her twixt earnest and twixt game;
Who in her self-resemblance well beseene,
Did seeme such, as she was, a goodly maiden Queene.
And after all the raskall many ran,
Heaped together in rude rablement,
To see the face of that victorious man:
Whom all admired, as from heauen sent,
And gazd vpon with gaping wonderment,
But when they came, where that dead Dragon Iay,
Stretcht on the ground in monstrous large extent,
The sight with ydle feare did them dismay,
Ne durst approch him nigh, to touch, or once assay.
Some feard, and fledd; some [...] and well it saynd;
One that would wiser seeme, then all the rest,
Warnd him not touch, for yet perhaps remaynd
Some lingring life within his hollow brest,
[Page 174]Or in his wombe might lurke some hidden nest
Of many Dragonettes, his fruitfull seede;
Another saide, that in his eyes did rest
Yet sparckling fyre, and badd thereof take heed;
Another said, he saw him moue his eyes indeed.
One mother, whenas her foolehardy chyld
Did come to neare, and with his talants play
Halfe dead through feare, her litle babe reuyld,
And to her gossibs gan in counsell say;
How can I tell, but that his talents may
Yet scratch my sonne, or rend his tender hand.
So diuersly them selues in vaine they fray;
Whiles some more bold, to measure him [...] stand,
To proue how many acres he did spred ofland.
Thus flocked all the folke him rownd about,
The whiles that hoarie king, with all his traine,
Being arriued, where that champion stout
After his foes defeasaunce did remaine,
Him goodly greetes, and fayre does entertayne,
With princely gifts of yuory and gold,
And thousand thankes him yeeldes for all his paine.
Then when his daughter deare he does behold,
Her dearely doth imbrace, and kisseth manifold.
And after to his Pallace he them bringes,
With shaumes, & trompets, & with Clarions sweet;
And all the way the ioyous people singes,
And with their garments strowes the paued street
Whence mounting vp, they fynd purueyaunce meet
Of all, that royall Princes court became,
And all the floore was vnderneath their feet
Be spredd with costly scarlott of great name,
On which they lowly sitt, and fitting purpose frame.
What needes me tell their feast and goodly guize,
In which was nothing riotous nor vaine?
What needes of dainty dishes to deuize,
Of comely seruices, or courtly trayne?
My narrow leaues cannot in them vntayne
The large discourse of roiall Princes state.
Yet was their manner then but bare and playne:
For th'antique world excesse and pryde did hate;
Such proud luxurious pompe is swollen vp but late.
Then when with meates and drinkes of euery kinde
Their feruent appetites they quenched had,
That auncient Lord gan fit occasion finde,
Of straunge aduentures, and of perils sad,
Which in his trauell him befallen had,
For to demaund of his renowmed guest:
Who then with vtt'rance graue, and count'nance sad,
From poynt to poynt, as is before exprest,
Discourst his voyage long, according his request.
Great pleasure mixt with pittifull regard,
That godly King and Queene did passionate,
Whyles they his pittifull aduentures heard,
That oft they did lament his lucklesse state,
And often blame the too importune fate,
That heapd on him so many wrathfull wreakes:
For neuer gentle knight, as he of late,
So tossed was in fortunes cruell freakes;
And all the while salt teares bedeawd the hearers cheaks.
Then sayd that royall Pere in sober wise;
Deare Sonne, great beene the euils, which ye bore
From first to last in your late enterprise,
That I note, whether praise, or pitty more:
[Page 176]For neuer liuing man, I weene, so fore
In sea of deadly daungers was distrest;
But since now safe ye seised haue the shore,
And well arriued are, (high God be blest)
Let vs deuize of ease and euerlasting rest.
Ah dearest Lord, said then that doughty knight,
Of ease or rest I may not yet deuize;
For by the faith, which I to armes haue plight,
I bownden am streight after this emprize,
As that your daughter can ye well aduize,
Backe to retourne to that great Faery Quueene,
And her to serue sixe yeares in warlike wize,
Gainst that proud Paynim king, that works her teene:
Therefore I ought craue pardon, till I there haue beene.
Vnhappy falls that hard necessity,
(Quoth he) the troubler of my happy peace,
And vowed foe of my felicity;
Ne I against the same can iustly preace:
But since that band ye cannot now release,
Nor doen vndoe; (for vowes may not be vayne)
Soone as the [...] of those six yeares shall cease,
Ye then shall hether backe retourne agayne,
The marriage to accomplish vowd betwixt you twayn.
Which for my part I couet to performe,
In sort as through the world I did proclame,
That who so kild that monster most deforme,
And him in hardy battayle ouercame,
Should haue mine onely daughter to his Dame,
And of my kingdome heyre apparaunt bee:
Therefore since now to thee perteynes the [...],
By dew desert of noble cheualree,
Both daughter and eke kingdome, lo I yield to thee.
Then forth he called that his daughter fayre,
The fairest Vn' his onely daughter deare,
His onely daughter, and his only hayre;
Who forth proceeding with sad sober cheare,
As bright as doth the morning starre appeare
Out of the East, with flaming lockes bedight,
To tell that dawning day is drawing neare,
And to the world does bring long wished light;
So faire and fresh that Lady shewd her selfe in sight.
So faire and fresh, as freshest flowre in May;
For she had layd her mournefull stole aside,
And widow-like sad wimple throwne away,
Wherewith her heauenly beautie she did hide,
Whiles on her wearie iourney she did ride;
And on her now a garment she did weare,
All lilly white, withoutten spot, or pride,
That seemd like silke and siluer wouen neare,
But neither silke nor siluer therein did appeare.
The blazing brightnesse of her beauties beame,
And glorious light of her sunshyny face
To tell, were as to striue against the streame,
My ragged rimes are all too rude and bace,
Her heauenly lineaments for to enchace.
Ne wonder; for her own deare loued knight,
All were she daily with himselfe in place,
Did wonder much at her celestiall sight:
Oft had he seene her faire, but neuer so faire dight.
So fairely dight, when she in presence came,
She to her Syre made humble reuerence,
And bowed low, that her right well became,
And added grace vnto her excellence:
[Page 178]Who with great wisedome, and graue eloquence
Thus gan to say. But eare he thus had sayd,
With flying speede, and seeming great pretence,
Came running in, much like a man dismayd,
A Messenger with letters, which his message sayd.
All in the open hall amazed stood,
At suddeinnesse of that vnwary sight,
And wondred at his breathlesse hasty mood.
But he for nought would stay his passage right,
Till fast before the king he did alight;
Where falling flat, great humblesse he did make,
And kist the ground, whereon his foot was pight;
Then to his handes that writt he did betake,
Which he disclosing, read thus, as the paper spake.
To thee, most mighty king of Eden fayre,
Her greeting sends in these sad lines addrest,
The wofull daughter, and forsaken heyre
Of that great Emperour of all the West;
And bids thee be aduized for the best,
Ere thou thy daughter linck in holy band
Of wedlocke to that new vnknowen guest:
For he already plighted his right hand
Vnto another loue, and to another land.
To me sad mayd, or rather widow sad,
He was affyaunced long time before,
And sacred pledges he both gaue, and had,
Falfe erraunt knight, infamous, and forswore:
Witnesse the burning Altars, which he swore,
And guilty heauens of his bold periury,
Which though he hath polluted oft of yore,
Yet I to them for iudgement iust doe fly,
And them coniure t'auenge this shamefull iniury.
Therefore since mine he is, or free or bond,
Or false or trew, or liuing or else dead,
Withhold, O souerayne Prince, your hasty hond
From knitting league with him, I you aread;
Neweene my right with strength adowne to tread,
Through weakenesse of my widowhed, or woe:
For truth is strong, her rightfull cause to plead,
And shall finde friends, if need requireth soe.
So bids thee well to fare, Thy neither friend, nor foe, Fidessa.
When he these bitter byting wordes had red,
The tydings straunge did him abashed make,
That still he sate long time astonished
As in great muse, ne word to creature spake.
At last his solemne silence thus he brake,
With doubtfull eyes fast fixed on his guest;
Redoubted knight, that for myne only sake
Thy life and [...] late aduenturest,
Let nought be hid from me, that ought to be exprest.
What meane these bloody vowes, and idle threats,
Throwne out from womanish impatient mynd?
What heuens? what altars? what enraged heates
Here heaped vp with termes of loue vnkynd,
My conscience cleare with guilty bands would bynd?
High God be witnesse, that I guiltlesse ame.
But if your selfe, Sir knight, ye faulty fynd,
Or wrapped be in [...] of former Dame,
With cry [...] doe not it couer, but disclose the same.
To whom the Redcrosse knight this answere sent,
My Lord, my king, be nought hereat dismayd,
Till well ye wote by graue intendiment,
What woman, and wherefore doth me vpbrayd
[Page 180]With breach of loue, and loialty betrayd.
It was in my mishaps, [...] hitherward
I lately traueild, that vnwares I stayd
Out of my way, through perils straunge and hard;
That day should faile me, ere I had them all declard.
There did I find, or rather I was fownd
Of this false woman, that Fidessa hight,
Fidessa hight the falsest Dame on grownd,
Most false Duessa, royall richly dight,
That easy was to inueigle weaker sight:
Who by her wicked arts, and wiely skill,
Too false and strong for earthly skill or might,
Vnwares me wrought vnto her wicked will,
And to my foe betrayd, when least I feared ill.
Then stepped forth the goodly royall Mayd,
And on the ground her selfe prostrating low,
With sober countenaunce thus to him sayd;
O pardon me, my soueraine Lord, to sheow
The secret treasons, which of late I know
To haue bene wrought by that false [...].
Shee onely she it is, that earst did throw
This gentle knight into so great distresse,
That death him did awaite in daily wretchednesse.
And now it seemes, that she suborned hath
This crafty messenger with letters faine,
To worke new woe and improuided [...],
By breaking of the band betwixt vs twaine;
Wherein she vsed hath the practicke pame
Of this false footman, clokt with simplenesle,
Whome if ye please for to discouer plaine,
Ye shall him Archimage find, I ghesse,
The falsest man aliue; wo tries shall find no lesse.
The king was greatly moued at her speach,
And all with suddein indignation fraight,
Bad on that Messenger rude hands to reach.
Eftsoones the Gard, which on his state did wait,
Attacht that faytor false, and bound him strait:
Who seeming sorely chauffed at his band,
As chained beare, whom cruell dogs doe bait,
With ydle force did faine them to withstand,
And often semblaunce made to scape out of their hand.
But they him layd full low in dungeon deepe,
And bound him hand and foote with yron chains.
And with continual watch did warely keepe;
Who then would thinke, that by his subtile trains
He could escape fowle death or deadly pains?
Thus when that Princes wrath was pacifide,
He gan renew the late forbidden bains,
And to the knight his daughter deare he tyde,
With sacred rites and vowes for euer to abyde.
His owne two hands the holy knotts did knitt,
That none but death for euer can diuide;
His owne two hands, for such a turne most fitt,
The housling fire did kindle and prouide,
And holy water thereon sprinckled wide;
At which the bushy Teade a groome did light,
And sacred lamp in secret chamber hide,
Where it should not be quenched day nornight,
For feare of euill fates, but burnen euer bright.
Then gan they sprinckle all the posts with wine,
And made great feast to solemnize that day;
They all [...] with frankincense diuine,
And precious odours fetcht from far away,
[Page 182]That all the house did sweat with great aray:
And all the while sweete Musicke did apply
Her curious skill, the warbling notes to play,
To driue away the dull [...];
The whiles one sung a song of loue and iollity.
During the which there was an heauenly noise
Heard sownd through all the Pallace pleasantly,
Like as it had bene many an Angels voice,
Singing before th'eternall maiesty,
In their trinall triplicitles on hye;
Yett wist no creature, whence that heuenly sweet
Proceeded, yet eachone felt secretly
Himselfe thereby [...] of his sences meet,
And rauished with rare impression in his sprite.
Great ioy was made that day of young and old,
And solemne feast proclaymd throughout the land,
That their exceeding merth may not be told:
Snffice it heare by signes to vnderstand
The vsuall ioyes at [...] of loues band.
Thrise happy man the knight himselfe did hold,
Possessed of his Ladies hart and hand,
And euer, when his eie did her behold,
His heart did seeme to melt in pleasures manifold.
Her ioyous presence and sweet company
[...] full [...] there did long [...],
Ne wicked [...], [...]
His deare delights were hable to annoy:
Yet swimming in that sea of [...] ioy,
He nought [...], how he whilome had sworne,
Incase he could that [...] beast destroy,
Vnto his [...] Queene backe to [...]:
The which he shortly did, and Vna left to mourne.
Now strike your sailes yee iolly Mariners,
For we be come vnto a quiet rode,
Where we must land some of our passengers,
And light this weary vessell of her lode.
Here she a while may make her safe abode,
Till she repaired haue her tackles spent,
And wants supplide. And then againe abroad
On the long voiage whereto she is bent:
Well may she speede and fairely finish her intent.
Finis Lib. I.
The second Booke of the Faerie Queene. Contayning The Legend of Sir Guyon. OR Of Temperaunce.
RIght well I wote most mighty Soueraine,
That all this famous antique history,
Of some th'aboundance of an ydle braine
Will iudged be, and painted forgery,
Rather then matter of iust memory,
Sith none, that breatheth liuing aire, does know,
Where is that happy land of Faery,
Which I so much doc vaunt, yet no where show,
But vouch antiquities, which no body can know.
But let that man with better sence aduize,
That of the world least part to vs is red:
And daily how through hardy enterprize,
Many great Regions are discouered,
[Page 186]Which to late age were neuer mentioned,
Who euer heard ofth'Indian Peru
Or who in venturous vessell measured
The Amarons huge riuer now found trew
Or fruitfullest Virginia who did euer [...].
Yet all these were when no man did them know
Yet haue from wisest ages hidden beene
And later times thinges more vnknowne shall show
Why then should witlesse man so much misweene
That nothing is but that which he hath seene?
What if within the Moones fayre shining spheare
What if in [...] other starre vnseene
Of other worldes he happily should heare
He [...] would much more, yet such to some appeare
Of faery lond yet if he more inquyre
By certein signes here sett in sondrie place
He may it fynd; ne let him then admyre
But yield his sence to bee too blunt and bace
That n'ote without an hound fine footing trace
And then O fayrest Princesse vnder sky
In this fayre mirrhour maist behold thy face
And thine owne realmes in lond of Faery
And in this antique ymage thy great auncestry.
The which O pardon me thus to enfold
In couert vele and wrap in shadowes light
That feeble eyes your glory may behold
Which elles could not endure those beames bright
But would bee dazled with exceeding light
O pardon and vouchsafe with patient eare
The braue aduentures of this faery knight
The good Sir Guyon gratiously to heare
In whom great rule of Temp'raunce goodly doth appeare.
Cant I.
Guyon by Archimage abusd,
the Redcrosse kniggt awaytes,
Fyndes Mordant and Amauia slaine
With pleasures poisoned baytes.
THat conning Architect of cancred guyle,
Whom Princes late displeasure left in bands,
For falsed letters and suborned wyle,
Soone as the Redcrosse knight he vnderstands,
To beene departed out of Eden landes,
To serue againe his soueraine Elfin Queene,
His artes he moues, and out of caytiues handes
Himselfe he frees by secret meanes vnseene;
His shackles emptie lefte, him selfe escaped cleene.
And forth he fares full of malicious mynd,
To worken mischiefe and auenging woe,
Where euer he that godly knight may fynd,
His onely hart sore, and his onely foe,
Sith Vna now he algates must forgoe,
Whom his victorious handes did earst restore
To natiue crowne and kingdom late ygoe:
Where she enioyes sure peace for euermore,
As wetherbeaten ship arryu'd on happie shore.
Him therefore now the obiect of his spight
And deadly food he makes: him to offend
By forged treason, or by open fight
He seekes, of all his drifte the aymed end:
[Page 188]Thereto his subtile engins he does bend
His practick witt, and his fayre fyled tonge,
With thousand other sleightes: for well he kend,
His credit now in doubt full ballaunce hong;
For hardly could bee hurt, who was already stong.
Still as he went, he craftie stales did lay.
With cunning traynes him to entrap vnwares,
And priuy spyals plast in all his way,
To weete what course he takes, and how he fares;
To ketch him at a vauntage in his snares.
But now so wise and wary was the knight
By tryall of his former harmes and cares,
That he descryde, and shonned still his slight:
The fish that once was caught, new bait wil hardly byte.
Nath'lesse th'Enchaunter would not spare his payne,
In hope to win occasion to his will;
Which when he long awaited had in vayne,
He chaungd his mynd from one to other ill:
For to all good he enimy was still.
Vpon the way him fortuned to meet,
Fayre marching vnderneath a shady hill,
A goodly knight, all armd in harnesse meete,
That from his head no place appeared to his feete.
His carriage was full comely and vpright,
His countenance demure and temperate,
But yett so sterne and terrible in sight,
That cheard his friendes, and did his foes amate:
He was an Elfin borne of noble state,
And mickle worship in his natiue land,
Well could he tourney and in lists debate,
And knighthood tooke of good Sir Huons hand,
When with king Oberon he came to Fary land.
Him als accompanyd vpon the way
A comely Palmer, clad in black attyre,
Of rypest yeares, and heares all hoarie gray,
That with a staffe his feeble steps did stire,
Least his long way his aged limbes should tire:
And if by lookes one may the mind aread,
He seemd to be a sage and sober syre,
And euer with slow pace the knight did lead,
Who taught his trampling steed with equall steps to tread.
Such whenas Archimago them did view,
He weened well to worke some vncouth wyle,
Eftsoones vntwisting his [...] clew,
He gan to weaue a web of wicked guyle,
And with faire countenance and flattring style,
To them approching, thus the knight bespake:
Fayre sonne of Mars, that seeke with warlike spoyle.
And great atchieu'ments great your selfe to make,
Vouchsafe to stay your steed for humble misers sake.
He stayd his steed for humble misers sake,
And badd tell on the tenor of his playnt;
Who feigning then in euery limb to quake,
Through inward feare, and seeming pale and faynt
With piteous mone his percing speach gan paynt;
Deare Lady how shall I declare thy cace,
Whom late I left in languorous constraynt?
Would God thy selfe now present were in place,
To tell this ruefull tale; thy sight could win thee grace.
Or rather would, O would it so had chaunst,
That you, most noble Sir, had present beene,
When that lewd rybauld with vyle lust aduaunst
Laid first his filthie hands on virgin cleene,
[Page 190]To spoyle her dainty corps so faire and sheene,
As on the earth, great mother of vs all,
With liuing eye more fayre was neuer seene,
Of chastity and honour virginall:
Witnes ye heauens, whom she in vaine to help did call.
How may it be, sdyd then the knight halfe wroth,
That knight should knighthood euer so haue shent?
None but that saw (qd. he) would weene for troth,
How shamefully that Mayd he did torment.
Her looser golden lockes he rudely rent,
And drew her on the ground, and his sharpe sword,
Against her snowy brest he fiercely bent,
And threatned death with many a bloodie word;
Tongue hates to tell the rest, that eye to see abhord.
Therewith amoued from his sober mood,
And liues he yet (said he) that wrought this act,
And doen the heauens afford him vitall food?
He liues, (quoth he) and boasteth of the fact,
Ne yet hath any knight his courage crackt.
Where may that treach our then (sayd he) be found,
Or by what meanes may I his footing tract?
That shall I shew (sayd he) as sure, as hound
The strickē Deare doth chaleng by the bleeding wound.
He stayd not lenger talke, but with fierce yre
And zealous haste away is quickly gone,
To seeke that knight, where him that crafty Squyre
Supposd to be. They do arriue anone,
Where sate a gentle Lady all alone,
With garments rent, and heare discheueled,
Wringing her handes, and making piteous mone;
Her swollen eyes were much disfigured,
And her faire face with teares was fowly blubbered.
The knight approching nigh, thus to her said,
Fayre Lady, through fowle sorrow ill bedight,
Great pitty is to see you thus dismayd,
And marre the blossom of your beauty bright:
For thy appease your griefe and heauy plight,
And tell the cause of your conceiued payne:
For if he liue, that hath you doen despight,
He shall you doe dew recompence agayne,
Or els his wrong with greater puissance maintaine.
Which when she heard, as in despightfull wise,
She wilfully her sorrow did augment,
And offred hope of comfort did despise:
Her golden lockes most cruelly she rent,
And scratcht her face with ghastly dreriment,
Ne would she speake, nesee, ne yet be seene,
But hid her visage, and her head downe bent,
Either for grieuous shame, or for great [...],
As if her hart with sorow had transfixed beene.
Till her that Squyre bespake, Madame my life,
For Gods deare loue be not so wilfull bent,
But doe vouchsafe now to receiue reliefe,
The which good fortune doth to you present.
For what bootes it to weepe and to wayment,
When ill is chaunst, but doth the ill increase,
And the weake minde with double woe torment?
When she her Squyre heard speake, she gan [...]
Her voluntarie paine, and feele some secret ease.
[...] she said, Ah gentle trustie Squyre,
What comfort can I wofull wretch conceaue,
Or why should euer I henceforth desyre,
To see faire heauens face, and life not leaue,
[Page 192]Sith that false Traytour did my honour reaue?
False traytour certes (saide the Faerie knight)
I read the man, that euer would deceaue
A gentle Lady, or her wrong through might:
Death were too little paine for such a fowle despight.
But now, fayre Lady, comfort to you make,
And read, who hath ye wrought this shamfull plight.
That short reuenge the man may ouertake,
Where so he be, and soone vpon him light.
Certes (saide she) I wote not, how he hight,
But vnder him a gray steede he did wield,
Whose sides with dapled circles weren dight;
Vpright he rode, and in his siluer shield
He bore a bloodie Crosse, that quartred all the field.
Now by my head (saide Guyon) much I muse,
How that same knight should do so fowle amis,
Or euer gentle Damzell so abuse:
For may I boldly say, he surely is
A right good knight, and trew of word ywis:
I present was, and can it witnesse well,
When armes he swore, and streight did enterpris
Th'aduenture of the Errant damozell,
In which he hath great glory wonne, as I heare tell.
Nathlesse he shortly shall againe be tryde,
And fairely quit him of th'imputed blame,
Els be ye sure he dearely shall abyde,
Or make you good amendment for the same:
All wrongs haue mendes, but no amendes of shame.
Now therefore Lady, rise out of your paine,
And see the saluing of your blotting name.
Full loth she seemd thereto, but yet did faine,
For she was inly glad her purpose so to gaine.
Her purpose was not such, as she did faine,
Ne yet her person such, as it was seene,
But vnder simple shew and semblant plaine
Lurkt false Duessa secretly vnseene,
As a chaste Virgin, that had wronged beene:
So had false Archimago her disguysd,
To cloke her guile with sorrow and sad teene;
And eke himselfe had craftily deuisd
To be her Squire, and do her [...] well aguisd.
Her late forlorne and naked he had found,
Where she did wander in waste wildernesse,
Lurking in rockes and caues far vnder ground,
And with greene mosse cou'ring her nakednesse,
To hide her shame and loathly filthinesse,
Sith her Prince Arthur of proud ornaments
And borrowd beauty spoyld. Her nathelesse
Th'enchaunter finding fit for his intents,
Did thus reuest, and deckt with dew habiliments.
For all he did, was to deceiue good knights,
And draw them from pursuit of praise and fame,
To slug in slouth and sensuall delights,
And end their daies with irrenowmed shame.
And now exceeding griefe him ouercame,
To see the Redcrosse thus aduaunced hye;
Therefore this craftie engine he did frame,
Against his praise to stirre vp enmitye
Of such, as vertues like mote vnto him allye.
So now he Guyon guydes an vncouth way
Through woods & mountaines, till they came at last
Into a pleasant dale, that [...] lay
Betwixt two hils, whose high heads ouerplast,
[Page 194]The valley did with coole [...] ouercast;
Through midst thereof a little riuer rold,
By which there sate a knight with helme vnlaste,
Himselfe refreshing with the liquid cold,
After his trauell long, and labours manifold.
Lo yonder he, cryde Archimage alowd,
That wrought the shamefull fact, which I did shew,
And now he doth himselfe in secret shrowd,
To fly the vengeaunce for his outrage dew;
But vaine: for ye shall dearely do him rew,
So God ye speed, and send you good successe;
Which we far off will here abide to vew.
So they him left, inflam'd with wrathfulnesse,
That streight against that knight his speare he did addresse.
Who seeing him from far so fierce to pricke,
His warlike armes about him gan embrace,
And in the rest his ready speare did sticke;
Tho when as still he saw him towards pace,
He gan rencounter him in equall race:
They bene ymett, both ready to affrap,
When suddeinly that warriour gan abace
His threatned speare, as if some new mishap
Had him betide, or hidden danger did entrap.
And cryde, Mercie Sir knight, and mercie Lord,
For mine offence and heedelesse hardiment,
That had almost committed crime abhord,
And with reprochfull shame mine honour shent,
Whiles cursed steele against that badge I bent,
The sacred badge of my Redeemers death,
Which on your shield is set for ornament:
But his fierce foe his steed could stay vneath,
Who prickt with couragekene, did cruell battell breath
But when he heard him speake, streight way he knew
His errour, and himselfe inclyning sayd,
Ah deare Sir Guyon, well becommeth you,
But me behoueth rather to vpbrayd,
Whose hastie hand so fat from reason strayd,
That almost it did haynous violence
On that fayre ymage of that heauenly Mayd,
That decks and armes your shield with faire defence:
Your court'sie takes on you anothers dew offence,
So beene they both at one, and doen vpreare
Their beuers bright, each other for to greet;
Goodly comportaunce each to other beare,
And entertaine themselues with court'sies meet;
Then saide the Redcrosse knight, Now mote I weet,
Sir Guyon, why with so fierce saliaunce,
And fell intent ye did at earst me meet;
For sith I know your goodly gouernaunce,
Great cause, I weene, you guided, or some vncouth chaunce.
Certes (said he) well mote I shame to tell
The fond encheason, that me hether led.
A false infamous faitour late befell
Me for to meet, that seemed ill bested,
And playnd of grieuous outrage, which he red
A knight had wrought against a Ladiegent;
Which to auenge, he to this place me led,
Where you he made the marke of his intent,
And now is fled, foule shame him follow, wher he went.
So can he turne his earnest vnto game,
Through goodly handling and wise temperaunce.
By this his aged Guide in presence came,
Who soone as one that knight his eye did glaunce,
[Page 196]Eft soones of him had perfect cognizaunee,
Sith him in Faery court he late auizd;
And sayd, fayre sonne, God giue you happy chaunce,
And that deare Crosse vppon your shield deuizd,
Wherewith aboue all knights ye goodly seeme aguizd.
Ioy may you haue, and euerlasting fame,
Of late [...] hard atchieu'ment by you donne,
For which enrolled is your glorious name
In heauenly Regesters aboue the Sunne,
Where you a Saint with Saints your seat haue wōne:
But wretched we, where ye haue left your marke,
Most now anew begin, like race to ronne;
God guide thee, Guyon, well to end thy warke,
And to the wished hauen bring thy weary barke.
Palmer, him answered the Redcrosse knight,
His be the praise, that this atchieu'ment wrought,
Who made my hand the organ of his might;
More then goodwill to me attribute nought:
For all I did, I did but as I ought.
But you faire Sir, whose pageant next ensewes,
Well mote yee thee, as well can wish your thought,
That home ye may report these happy newes;
For well ye worthy bene for worth and gentle thewes.
So courteous conge both did giue and take,
With right hands plighted, pledges of good will.
Then Guyon forward gan his voyage make,
With his blacke Palmer, that him guided still.
Still he him guided ouer dale and hill,
And with his steedy staffe did point his way:
His race with reason, and with words his will,
From fowle intemperaunce he ofte did stay,
And suffred not in wrath his hasty steps to stray.
In this faire wize they traueild long yfere,
Through many hard assayes, which did betide,
Of which he honour still away did beare,
And spred his glory through all countryes wide.
At last as chaunst them by a forest side
To passe, for succour from the scorching ray,
They heard a ruefull voice, that dearnly cride,
With percing shriekes, and many a dolefull lay;
Which to attend, awhile their forward steps they stay.
But if that carelesse heuens (qdshe) despise
The doome of iust reuenge, and take delight
To see sad pageaunts of mens miseries,
As bownd by them to liue in liues despight,
Yet can they not warne death from wretched wight.
Come then, come soone, come sweetest death to me,
And take away this long lent loathed light:
Sharpe be thy wounds, but sweete the medicines be,
That long captiued soules from weary thraldome free.
But thou, sweete Babe, whom frowning froward fate
Hath made sad witnesse of thy fathers fall,
Sith heuen thee deignes to hold in liuing state,
Long maist thou liue, and better thriue withall,
Then to thy lucklesse parents did befall:
Liue thou, and to thy mother dead attest,
That cleare she dide from blemish criminall;
Thy litle hands embrewd in bleeding brest
Loe I for pledges leaue. So giue me leaue to rest.
With that a deadly shrieke she forth did throw,
That through the wood reechoed againe,
And after gaue a grone so deepe and low,
That seemd her tender heart was rent in twaine,
[Page 198]Or thrild with point of thorough piercing paine;
As gentle Hynd, whose sides with [...] steele
Through laūched, forth her bleeding life does raine,
Whiles the sad pang approching shee does feele,
Braies out her latest breath, and vp her eies doth seele.
Which when that warriour heard, dismounting straict
From his tall steed, he rusht into the thick,
And soone arriued, where that sad pourtraict
Of death and dolour lay, halfe dead, halfe quick,
In whose white alabaster brest did stick
A cruell knife, that made a griesly wownd,
From which forth gusht a stream of goreblood thick,
That all her goodly garments staind arownd,
And into a deepe sanguine dide the grassy grownd.
Pitifull spectacle of deadly smart,
Beside a bubling fountaine low she lay,
Which shee increased with her bleeding hart,
And the cleane waues with purple gore did ray;
Als in her lap a louely babe did play
His cruell sport, in stead of sorrow dew;
For in her streaming blood he did embay
His litle hands, and tender ioints embrew;
Pitifull spectacle, as euer eie did vew.
Besides them both, vpon the soiled gras
The dead corse of an armed knight was spred,
Whose armour all with blood besprincled was,
His ruddy lips did smyle, and rosy red
Did [...] his chearefull cheekes, yett being ded,
Seemd to haue beene a goodly personage,
Now in his freshest flowre of lusty hed,
Fitt to inflame faire Lady with loues rage,
But that fiers fate did crop the blossome of his age.
VVhom when the good Sir Guyou did behold,
His hart gan wexe as starke, as marblestone,
And his sresh blood did frieze with fearefull cold,
That all his sences seemd berefte attone:
At last his mighty ghost gan deepe to grone,
As Lion grudging in his great disdaine,
Mournes inwardly, and makes to him selfe mone,
Til ruth and fraile affection did constraine,
His stout courage to stoupe, and shew his inward paine.
Out of her gored wound the cruell steel
He lightly snatcht, and did the floodgate stop
VVith his faire garment: then gansoftly feel
Herfeeble pulfe, to proue if any drop
Of liuing blood yet in her veynes did hop;
VVhich when he felt to moue, he hoped faire
To call backe life to her forsaken shop;
So well he did her deadly wounds repaire,
That at the last shee gan to breath out liuing aire.
VVhich he perceiuing greatly gan reioice,
And goodly counsell, that for wounded hart
Is meetest med'cine, tempred with sweete voice;
Ay me, deare Lady, which the ymage art
Of ruefull pitty, and impatient smart,
VVhat direfull chaunce, armd with auenging fate,
Or cursed hand hath plaid this cruell part,
Thus fowle to hasten your vntimely date;
Speake, O dear Lady speake: help neuer comes too late.
Therewith her dim eie-lids she vp gan reare,
On which the drery death did sitt, as sad
As lump oflead, and made darke clouds appeare;
But when as him all in bright armour clad
[Page 200]Before her standing she espied had,
As one out of a deadly dreame affright,
She weakely started, yet she nothing drad:
Streight downe againe her selfe in great despight,
She groueling threw to groūd, as hating life and light.
The gentle knight her soone with carefull paine
Vplifted light, and softly did vphold:
Thrise he her reard, and thrise she sunck againe,
Till he his armes about her sides gan fold,
And to her said; Yet if the stony cold
Haue not all seized on your frozen hart,
Let one word fall that may your griefe vnfold,
And tell the secrete of your mortall smart;
He oft finds present helpe, who does his griefe impart.
Then casting vp a deadly looke, full low
Shee sight from bottome of her wounded brest,
And after, many bitter throbs did throw
With lips full pale and foltring tong opprest,
These words she breathed forth from riuen chest;
Leaue, ah leaue of, what euer wight thou bee,
To lett a weary wretch from her dew rest,
And trouble dying soules tranquilitee.
Take not away now got, which none would giue to me.
Ah far be it (said he) Deare dame fro mee,
To hinder soule from her desired rest,
Or hold sad life in long captiuitee:
For all I seeke, is but to haue redrest
The bitter pangs, that doth your heart infest.
Tell then O Lady tell, what fatall priefe
Hath with so huge misfortune you opprest:
That I may cast to compas your reliefe,
Or die with you in sorrow, and partake your griefe,
With feeble hands then stretched forth on hye,
As heuen accusing guilty of her death,
And with dry drops congealed in her eye,
In these sad wordes she spent her vtmost breath:
Heare then, O man, the sorrowes that vneath
My tong can tell, so far all sence they pas:
Loe this dead corpse, that lies here vnderneath,
The gentlest knight, that euer on greene gras
Gay steed with spurs did pricke, the good Sir Mortdant was.
Was, (ay the while, that he is not so now)
My Lord my loue; my deare Lord, my deare loue,
So long as heuens iust with equall brow,
Vouchsafed to behold vs from aboue,
One day when him high corage did emmoue,
As wont ye knightes to seeke aduentures wilde,
He pricked forth his puissaunt force to proue,
Me then he left enwombed of this childe,
This luckles childe, whom thus ye see with blood defild.
Him fortuned (hard fortune ye may ghesse)
To come, where vile Acrasia does wonne,
Acrasia a false enchaunteresse,
That many errant knightes hath fowle fordonne:
Within a wandring Island, that doth ronne
And stray in perilous gulfe, her dwelling is,
Fayre Sir, if euer there ye trauell, shonne
The cursed land where many wend amis,
And know it by the name; it hight the Bowre of blis.
Her blis is all in pleasure and delight,
Wherewith she makes her louers dronken mad,
And then with words & weedes of wondrous might,
On them she workes her will to vses bad:
[Page 202]My liefest Lord she thus beguiled had
For he was flesh: (all flesh doth frayltie breed)
Whom when I heard to beene so ill bestad
Weake wretch I wrapt my selfe in Palmers weed,
And cast to seek him forth through danger & great dreed
Now had fayre Cynthia by euen tournes
Full measured three quarters of her yeare,
And thrise three tymes had fild her crooked hornes,
Whenas my wombe her burdein would forbeare,
And bad me call Lucina to me neare.
Lucina came: a manchild forth I brought:
The woods, the Nymphes, my bowres, my midwiues weare,
Hard helpe at need. So deare thee babe I bought,
Yet nought to dear I deemd, while so my deare I sought
Him so I sought, and so at last I fownd
Where him that witch had thralled to her will,
In chaines of lust and lewde desyres vbownd
And so transformed from his former skill,
That me he knew not, nether his owne ill;
Till through wise handling and faire gouernaunce,
I him recured to a better will,
Purged from drugs of fowle intemperaunce:
Then meanes I gan deuise for his deliuerance.
Which when the vile Enchaunteresse perceiu'd,
How that my Lord from her I would repriue,
With cup thus charmd, him parting she deceiud;
Sad verse, giue death to him that death does giue,
And losse of loue, to her that loues to liue,
So soone as Bacchus with the Nymphe does lincke,
So parted we and on our iourney driue,
Till comming to this well, he stoupt to drincke:
The charme fulfild, dead suddeinly he downe did sincke.
Which when I wretch, Not one word more she sayd
But breaking of, the end for want of breath,
And slyding soft, as downe to sleepe her layd,
And ended all her woe in quiet death.
That seeing good Sir Guyon, could vneath
From teares abstayne for griefe his hart did grate,
And from so heauie sight his head did wreath,
Accusing fortune, and too cruell fate,
Which plonged had faire Lady in so wretched state.
Then turning to his Palmer said, Old syre
Behold the ymage of mortalitie,
And feeble nature cloth'd with fleshly tyre
When raging passion with fierce tyranny
Robs reason of her dew regalitie,
And makes it seruaunt to her basest part,
The strong it weakens with infirmitie:
And with bold furie armes the weakest hart;
The strong through pleasure soonest falles, the weake through smart.
But temperaunce (said he) with golden squire
Betwixt them both can measure out a meane,
Nether to melt in pleasures [...],
Nor frye in hartlesse griefe and dolefull tene.
Thrise happy man, who fares them both atweene.
But sith this wretched woman ouercome
Of [...], rather then of crime hath bene,
Reserue her cause to her eternall doome,
And in the meane vouchsafe her honorable toombe.
Palmer, qd. he, death is an equall doome
To good and bad, the commen In of rest;
But after death the tryall is to come,
When best shall bee to them, that liued best:
[Page 204]But both alike, when death hath both supprest,
Religious reuerence doth buriall teene,
Which who so wants, wants so much of his rest:
For all so greet shame after death I weene,
As selfe to dyen bad, vnburied bad to beene.
So both agree their bodies to engraue;
The great earthes wombe they open to the sky,
And with sad Cypresse seemely it embraue,
Then couering with a clod their closed eye,
They lay therein those corses tenderly,
And bid them sleepe in euerlasting peace.
But ere they did their vtmost obsequy,
Sir Guyon more affection to increace,
Bynempt a sacred vow, which none should ay releace.
The dead knights sword out of his sheath he drew,
With which he cutt a lock of all their heare,
Which medling with their blood & earth, he threw
Into the graue, and gan deuoutly sweare;
Such and such euil God on Gúyon reare,
And worse and worse young Orphane bethy payne,
If I or thou dew vengeance doe forbeare,
Till guiltie blood her guerdon doe obtayne:
So shedding many teares, they closd the earth agayne.
Cant II.
Babes bloody handes may not be clensd,
the face of golden Meane.
Her sisters two Extremities:
striue her to banish cleane.
THus when Sir Guyon with his faithful guyde
Had with dew rites and dolorous lament
The end of their sad Tragedie vptyde,
The litle babe vp in his armes he hent;
Who with sweet pleasaunce and bold blandishment
Gan smyle on them, that rather ought to weepe,
As carelesse of his woe, or innocent
Of that was doen, that ruth emperced deepe
In that knightes hart, and wordes with bitter teares did steepe.
Ah lucklesse babe, borne vnder cruell starre,
And in dead parents balefull ashes bred,
Full little weenest thou, what sorrowes are
Left thee for porcion of thy liuelyhed,
Poore Orphane in the wide world scattered,
As budding braunch rent from the natiue tree,
And throwen forth, till it be withered:
Such is the state of men: Thus enter we
Into this life with woe and end with miseree.
Then soft him selfe inclyning on his knee
Downe to that well, did in the water weene
(So loue does loath disdainefull nicitee.)
His guiltie handes from bloody gore to cleene;
[Page 206]He washt them oft and oft, yet nought they beene
For all his washing cleaner. Still he stroue,
Yet still the litle hands were bloody seene,
The which him into great amaz'ment droue,
And into diuerse doubt his wauering wonder cloue.
He wist not whether blott of fowle offence
Might not be purgd with water nor with bath;
Or that high God, in lieu of innocence,
Imprinted had that token of his wrath,
To shew how sore bloodguiltinesse he hat'h;
Or that the charme and veneme, which they dronck,
Their blood with secret filth infected hath,
Being diffused through the sencelesse tronck,
That through the great contagion direful deadly stonck,
Whom thus at gaze, the Palmer gan to bord
With goodly reason, and thus fayre bespake;
Ye bene right hart amated, gratious Lord,
And of your ignorance great merueill make,
Whiles cause not well conceiued ye mistake.
But know, that secret vertues are infusd
In euery fountaine, and in euerie lake,
Which who hath skill them rightly to haue chusd,
To proofe of passing wonders hath full often vsd.
Of those some were so from their sourse indewd
By great Dame Nature, from whose fruitfull pap
Their welheads spring, and are with moisture deawd;
Which feedes each liuing plant with liquid sap,
And filles with flowres fayre Floraes painted lap:
But other some by guifte of later grace,
Or by good prayers, or by other hap,
Had vertue pourd into their waters bace,
And thenceforth were renowmd, and sought from place place.
Such is this well, wrought by occasion straunge,
Which to her Nymph befell. Vpon a day,
As she the woodes with bow and shaftes did raunge,
The hartlesse Hynd and Robucke to dismay,
Dan Faunus chaunst to meet her by the way,
And kindling fire at her faire burning eye,
Inflamed was to follow beauties chace,
And chaced her, that fast from him did fly;
As Hynd from her, so she fled from her enimy.
At last when fayling breath began to faint,
And saw no meanes to scape, of shame affrayd,
She set her downe to weepe for sore constraint,
And to Diana calling lowd for ayde,
Her deare besought, to let her die a mayd.
The goddesse heard, and suddeine where she sate,
Welling out streames of teares, and quite dismayd
With stony feare of that rude rustick mate,
Transformd her to a stone from stedfast virgins state.
Lo now she is that stone, from whose two heads,
As from two weeping eyes, fresh streames do flow,
Yet colde through feare, and old conceiued dreads;
And yet the stone her semblance seemes to show,
Shapt like a maide, that such ye may her know;
And yet her vertues in her water byde:
For it is chaste and pure, as purest snow,
Ne lets her waues with any filth be dyde,
But euer like her selfe vnstayned hath beene tryde.
From thence it comes, that this babes bloody hand
May not be clensd with water of this well:
Ne certes Sir striue you it to withstand,
But let them still be bloody, as befell,
[Page 208]That they his mothers innocence may tell,
As she bequeathd in her last testament;
That as a sacred Symbole it may dwell
In her sonnes flesh, to mind reuengement,
And be for all chaste Dames an endlesse moniment.
He hearkned to his reason, and the childe
Vptaking, to the Palmer gaue to beare;
But his sad fathers armes with blood defilde,
An heauie load himselfe did lightly reare,
And turning to that place, in which whyleare
He left his loftie steed with golden sell,
And goodly gorgeous barbes, him found not theare.
By other accident that earst befell,
He is conuaide, but how or where, here fits not tell.
Which when Sir Guyon saw, all were he wroth,
Yet algates mote he soft himselfe appease,
And fairely fare on foot, how euer loth;
His double burden did him sore disease.
So long they traueiled with litle ease,
Till that at last they to a Castle came,
Built on a rocke adioyning to the seas,
It was an auncient worke of antique frame,
And wondrous strong by nature, and by skilfull frame.
Therein three sisters dwelt of sundry sort,
The children of one syre by mothers three;
Who dying whylome did diuide this fort
To them by equall shares in equall fee:
But stryfull mind, and diuerse qualitee
Drew them in partes, and each made others foe:
Still did they striue, and daily disagree;
The eldest did against the youngest goe,
And both against the middest meant to worken woe.
Where when the knight arriu'd, he was right well
Receiu'd, as knight of so much worth became,
Of second sister, who did far excell
The other two; Medina was her name,
A sober sad, and comely courteous Dame;
Who rich arayd, and yet in modest guize,
In goodly garments, that her well became,
Fayre marching forth in honorable wize,
Him at the threshold mett, and well did enterprize.
She led him vp into a goodly bowre,
And comely courted with meet [...],
Ne in her speach, ne in her hauiour,
Was lightnesse seene, or looser vanitie,
But gratious womanhood, and grauitie,
Aboue the reason of her youthly yeares:
Her golden lockes she roundly did vptye
In breaded tramels, that no looser heares
Did out of order stray about her daintie eares.
Whilest she her selfe thus busily did frame,
Seemely to entertaine her new-come guest,
Newes hereof to her other sisters came,
Who all this while were at their wanton rest,
Accourting each her frend with lauish fest:
They were two knights of perelesse puissaunce,
And famous far abroad for warlike gest,
Which to these Ladies loue did countenaunce,
And to his mistresse each himselfe stroue to aduaunce.
He that made loue vnto the eldest Dame,
Was hight Sir Huddibras, an hardy man;
Yet not so good of deedes, as great of name,
Which he by many rash aduentures wan,
[Page 210]Since errant armes to sew he first began;
More huge in strength, then wise in workes he was,
And reason with foole-hardize ouer ran;
Sterne melancholy did his courage pas,
And was for terrour more, all armd in shyning bras.
But he that lou'd the youngest, was Sansloy,
He that faire Vna late fowle outraged,
The most vnruly, and the boldest boy,
That euer warlike weapons menaged,
And to all lawlesse lust encouraged,
Through strong opinion of his matchlesse might:
Ne ought he car'd, whom he endamaged
By tortious wrong, or whom bereau'd of right.
He now this Ladies Champion chose for loue to fight.
These two gay knights, vowd to so diuerse loues,
Each other does envy with deadly hate,
And daily warre against his foeman moues,
In hope to win more fauour with his mate,
And th'others pleasing seruice to abate,
To magnifie his owne. But when they heard,
How in that place straunge knight arriued late,
Both knightes and ladies forth right angry far'd,
And fercely vnto battell sterne themselues prepar'd.
But ere they could proceede vnto the place,
Where he abode, themselues at discord fell,
And cruell combat ioynd in middle space:
With horrible assault, and fury fell,
They heapt huge strokes, the scorned life to quell,
That all on vprore from her settled seat,
The house was raysd, and all that in did dwell;
Seemd that lowde thunder with amazement great
Did rend the ratling skyes with flames of fouldring heat.
The noyse thereof cald forth that straunger knight,
To weet, what dreadfull thing was there in hand;
Where when as two braue knightes in bloody fight
With deadly rancour he enraunged fond,
His sunbroad shield about his wrest he bond,
And shyning blade vnsheathd, with which he ran
Vnto that stead, their strife to vnderstond;
And at his first arriuall, them began
With goodly meanes to [...], well as he can.
But they him spying, both with greedy forse
Attonce vpon him ran, and him beset
With strokes of mortall steele without remorse,
And on his shield like yron sledges bet:
As when a Beare and Tygre being met
In cruell fight on lybicke Ocean wide,
Espye a traueiler with feet surbet,
Whom they in equall pray hope to diuide,
They stint their strife, and him assayle on euerie side.
But he, not like a weary traueilere,
Their sharp assault right boldly did rebut,
And suffred not their blowes to byte him nere,
But with redoubled buffes them backe did put:
Whose grieued mindes, which choler did englut,
Against themselues turning their wrathfull spight,
[...] with new rage their shieldes to hew and cut;
But still when Guyon came to part their fight,
With heauie load on him they freshly gan to smight.
As a tall ship tossed in troublous seas,
Whom raging windes threatning to make the pray
Of the rough rockes, doe diuersly disease,
Meetes two contrarie billowes by the way,
[Page 212]That her on either side doe sore assay,
And boast to swallow her in greedy graue;
Shee scorning both their spights, does make wide way,
And with her brest breaking the fomy waue,
Does ride on both their backs, & faire her self doth saue.
So boldly he him beares, and rusheth forth
Betweene them both, by conduct of his blade.
Wondrous great prowesse and heroick worth
He shewd that day, and rare ensample made,
When two so mighty warriours he dismade:
Attonce he wards and strikes, he takes and paies,
Now forst to yield, now forcing to inuade,
Before, behind, and round about him laies:
So double was his paines, so double be his praise.
Straunge sort of fight, three valiaunt knights to see
Three combates ioine in one, and to darraine
A triple warre with triple enmitee,
All for their Ladies froward loue to gaine,
Which gotten was but hate. So loue does raine
In stoutest minds, and maketh monstrous warre;
He maketh warre, he maketh peace againe,
And yett his peace is but continuall [...]:
O miserable men, that to him subiect arre.
[...] thus they mingled were in furious armes,
The faire Medina with her tresses torne,
And naked brest, in pitty of their harmes,
Emongst them ran, and falling them [...],
Besought them by the womb, which them had born,
And by the loues, which were to them most deare,
And by the knighthood, which they sure had sworn,
Their deadly cruell discord to forbeare,
And to her iust conditions offaire peace to heare.
But her two other sisters standing by,
Her lowd gainsaid, and both her champions bad
Pursew the end of their strong enmity.
As euer of their loues they would be glad.
Yet she with pitthy words and counsell sad,
Still stroue their stubborne rages to reuoke,
That at the last suppressing fury mad,
They gan abstaine from dint of direfull stroke,
And hearken to the sober speaches, which she spoke.
Ah puissaunt Lords, what cursed euill Spright,
Or fell Erinnys in your noble harts,
Her hellish [...] hath kindled with despight,
And stird you vp to worke your wilfull smarts?
Is this the ioy of armes? be these the parts
Of glorious knighthood, after blood to thrust,
And not regard dew right and iust desarts?
Vaine is the vaunt, and victory vniust,
That more to mighty hāds, thē rightful cause doth trust.
And were their rightfull cause of difference,
Yet were not better, fayre it to accord,
Then with bloodguiltnesse to heape offence,
And mortal vengeaunce ioyne to crime abhord?
O fly from wrath, fly, O my liefest Lord:
Sad be the sights, and bitter fruites of warre,
And thousand furies wait on wrathfull sword;
Ne ought the praise of prowesse more doth marre,
Then fowle reuenging rage, and base contentious iarre.
But louely concord, and most sacred peace
Doth nourish vertue, and fast friendship breeds;
Weake she make strōg, & strong thing does increase,
Till it the pitch of highest praise exceeds:
[Page 214]Braue be her warres, and honorable deeds,
By which she triumphes ouer yre and pride,
And winnes an Oliue girlond for her meeds:
Be therefore, O my deare Lords, pacifide,
And this misseeming discord meekely lay aside.
Her gracious words their rancour did appall,
And suncke so deepe into their boyling brests,
That downe they lett their cruell weapons fall,
And lowly did abase their lofty crests
To her faire presence, and discrete behests.
Then she began a treaty to procure,
And stablish termes betwixt both their requests,
That as a law for euer should endure;
Which to obserue in word of knights they did assure.
Which to confirme, and fast to bind their league,
After their weary sweat and bloody toile,
She them besought, during their quiet treague,
Into her lodging to repaire a while,
To rest themselues, and grace to reconcile.
They soone consent: so forth with her they fare,
Where they are well receiud, and made to spoile
Themselues of soiled armes, and to prepare
Their minds to pleasure, & their mouths to dainty fare.
And those two froward sisters, their faire loues
Came with them eke, all were they wondrous loth,
And fained cheare, as for the time behoues,
But could not colour yet so well the troth,
But that their natures bad appeard in both:
For both did at their second sister grutch,
And inly grieue, as doth an hidden moth
The inner garment frett, not th'vtter touch;
One though ther cheare too [...], th'other thought too mutch.
Elissa (so the eldest hight) did deeme
Such entertainment base, ne ought would eat,
Ne ought would speake, but euermore did seeme
As discontent for want of metth or meat;
No solace could her Paramour intreat
Her once to show, ne court, nor dalliaunce,
But with bent lowring browes, as she would threat,
She scould, and frownd with froward countenaunce,
Vnworthy of faire Ladies comely gouernaunce.
But young Perissa was of other mynd,
Full of disport, still laughing, loosely light,
And quite contrary to her sisters kynd;
No measure in her mood, no rule of right,
But poured out in pleasure and delight;
In wine and meats she flowd aboue the banck,
And in excesse exceeded her owne might;
In sumptuous tire she ioyd her selfe to pranck,
But of her loue too lauish (litle haue she thanck.)
First by her side did sitt the bold Sansloy,
Fitt mate for such a mincing mineon,
Who in her loosenesse tooke exceeding ioy;
Might not be found a francker franion,
Of her leawd parts to make companion:
But Huddibras, more like a Malecontent,
Did see and grieue at his bold fashion;
Hardly could he endure his hardiment,
Yett still he satt, and inly did him selfe torment.
Betwixt them both the faire Medina sate
With sober grace, and goodly carriage:
With equall measure she did moderate
The strong extremities of their outrage,
[Page 216]That forward paire she euer would asswage,
When they would striue dew reason to exceed;
But that same froward twaine would accorage,
And of her plenty adde vnto their need:
So kept she them in order, and her selfe in heed.
Thus fairely shee attempered her feast,
And pleasd them all with meete satiety:
At last when lust of meat and drinke was ceast,
She Guyon deare besought of curtesie,
To tell from whence he came through ieopardy,
And whether now on new aduenture bownd.
Who with bold grace, and comely grauity,
Drawing to him the eies of all arownd,
From lofty siege began these words aloud to sownd.
This thy demaund, O Lady, doth reuiue
Fresh memory in me of that great Queene,
Great and most glorious virgin Queene aliue,
That with her soueraine powre, and scepter shene
All Faery lond does peaceably sustene.
In widest Ocean she her throne does reare,
That ouer all the earth it may be seene;
As morning Sunne her beames dispredden cleare,
And in her face faire peace, and mercy doth appeare.
In her the richesse of all heauenly grace,
In chiefe degree are heaped vp on hye:
And all that els this worlds enclosure bace,
Hath great or glorious in mortall eye.
Adornes the person of her Maiestye;
That men beholding so great excellence,
And rare perfection in mortalitye,
Doe her adore with sacred reuerence,
As th'Idole of her makers great magnificence.
To her I homage and my seruice owe,
In number of the noblest knightes on ground,
Mongst whom on me she deigned to bestowe
Order of Maydenhead, the most renownd,
That may this day in all the world be found,
An yearely solemne feast she wontes to make
The day that first doth lead the yeare around;
To which all knights of worth and courage bold
Resort, to heare of straunge aduentures to be told.
There this old Palmer shewd himselfe that day,
And to that mighty Princesse did complaine
Of grieuous mischiefes, which a wicked Fay
Had wrought, and many whelmd in deadly paine,
Whereof he crau'd redresse. My Soueraine,
Whose glory is in gracious deeds, and ioyes
Throughout the world her mercy to maintaine,
Eftsoones deuisd redresse for such annoyes;
Me all vnfitt for so great purpose she employes,
Now hath faire Phebe with her siluer face
Thrise seene the shadowes of the neather world,
Sith last I left that honorable place,
In which her roiall presence is entrold;
Ne euer shall I rest in house nor hold,
Till I that false Acrasia haue wonne;
Of whose fowle deedes, too hideous to bee told
I witnesse am, and this their wretched sonne,
Whose wofull parents she hath wickedly fordonne,
Tell on, fayre Sir, said she, that dolefull tale,
From which sad ruth does seeme you to restraine,
That we may pitty such vnhappie bale,
And learne from pleasures poyson to abstaine:
[Page 218]Ill by ensample good doth often gayne.
Then forward he his purpose gan pursew,
And told the story of the mortall payne,
Which Mordant and Amauia did rew;
As with lamenting eyes him selfe did lately vew.
Night was far spent, and now in Ocean deep
Orion, flying fast from hissing snake,
His flaming head did hasten for to steep,
When of his pitteous tale he end did make;
Whilst with delight of that he wisely spake,
Those guestes beguyled, did beguyle their eyes
Of kindly sleepe, that did them ouertake.
At last when they had markt the chaunged skyes,
They wist their houre was spēt; thē each to rest him hyes
Cant. III.
Vaine Braggadocchio getting Guyons
horse is made the scorne
Of knighthood trew, and is of fayre
Belphoebe fowle forlorne.
SO one as the morrow fayre with purple beames
Disperst the shadowes of the misty night,
And Titan playing on the eastern streames,
Gan cleare the deawy ayre with springing light,
Sir Guyon mindfull of his vow yplight,
Vprose from drowsie couch, and him addrest
Vnto the iourney which he had behight:
His [...] armes about his noble brest,
And many-folded shield he bound about his wrest.
Then taking Congè of that virgin pure,
The bloody-handed babe vnto her truth
Did earnestly committ, and her coniure,
In vertuous lore to traine his tender youth,
And all that gentle noriture ensueth:
And that so soone as ryper yeares he rought,
He might for memory of that dayes ruth,
Be called Ruddymane, and thereby taught,
T'auenge his Parents death on thē, that had it wrought.
So forth he far'd, as now befell, on foot,
Sith his good steed is lately from him gone;
Patience perforce: helplesse what may it boot
To frett for anger, or for griefe to mone?
His Palmer now shall foot no more alone:
So fortune wrought, as vnder greene woodes syde
He lately hard that dying Lady grone,
He left his steed without, and speare besyde,
And rushed in on foot to ayd her, cre she dyde.
The whyles a losell wandring by the way,
One that to bountie neuer cast his mynd,
Ne thought of honour euer did assay
His baser brest, but in his kestrell kynd
A pleasing vaine of glory he did fynd,
To which his flowing toung, and troublous spright
Gaue him great ayd, and made him more inclynd:
He that braue steed there finding ready dight,
Purloynd both steed and speare, and ran away full light.
Now gan his hart all swell in iollity,
And of him selfe great hope and help conceiu'd,
That puffed vp with smoke of vanity,
And with selfe-loued personage deceiu'd,
[Page 220]He gan to hope, of men to be receiu'd
For such, as he him thought, or faine would bee:
But for in court gay portaunce he perceiu'd,
And gallant shew to be in greatest gree,
Eftsoones to court he cast t'aduaunce his first degree.
And by the way he chaunced to espy
One sitting ydle on a sunny banck,
To whom auaunting in great brauery,
As Peacocke, that his painted plumes doth pranck,
He smote his courser in the trembling flanck,
And to him threatned his hart-thrilling speare:
The seely man seeing him ryde so ranck,
And ayme at him, fell flatt to ground for feare,
And crying Mercy loud, his pitious handes gan reare.
Thereat the Scarcrow wexed wondrous prowd,
Through fortune of his first aduenture fayre,
And with big thundring voice reuyld him lowd;
Vile Caytiue, vassall of dread and despayre,
Vnworthie of the commune breathed ayre,
Why liuest thou, dead dog, a lenger day,
And doest not vnto death thy selfe prepayre.
Dy, or thy selfe my captiue yield for ay;
Great fauour I thee graunt, for aunswere thus to stay.
Hold, O deare Lord, hold your dead-doing hand,
Then loud he cryde, I am your humble thrall.
Ah wretch (qd. he) thy destinies withstand
My wrathfull will, and doe for mercy call.
I giue thee life: therefore prostrated fall,
And kisse my stirrup; that thy homage bee.
The Miser threw him selfe, as an Offall,
Streight at his foot in base humilitee,
And cleeped him his liege, to hold of him in fee,
So happy peace they made and faire accord:
Eftsoones this liegeman gan to wexe more bold,
And when he felt the folly of his Lord,
In his owne kind he gan him selfe vnfold:
For he was wylie witted, and growne old
In cunning sleightes and practick knauery.
From that day forth he cast for to vphold
His ydle humour with fine slattery,
And blow the bellowes to his swelling vanity.
Trompart fitt man for Braggadochio,
To serue at court in view of vaunting eye;
Vaineglorious man, when fluttring wind does blow
In his light winges, is lifted vp to skye:
The scorne of knighthood and trew cheualrye,
To thinke without desert of gentle deed,
And noble worth to be aduaunced hye:
Such prayse is shame; but honour vertues meed
Doth beare the fayrest flowre in honourable seed.
So forth they pas, a well consorted payre,
Till that at length with Archimage they meet:
Who seeing one that shone in armour fayre,
On goodly course thondring with his feet,
Eftsoones supposed him a person meet,
Of his [...] to make the instrument:
For since the Redcrosse knight he erst did weet,
To beene with Guyon knitt in one consent,
The ill, which earst to him, he now to Guyon ment.
And comming close to Trompart gan inquere
Of him, what mightie warriour that mote bee,
That rode in golden sell with single spere,
But wanted sword to wreake his enmitee.
[Page 222]He is a great aduenturer, (said he)
That hath his sword through hard assay forgone,
And now hath vowd, till he auenged bee,
Of that despight, neuer to wearen none;
That speare is him enough to doen a thousand grone.
Th'enchaunter greatly ioyed in the vaunt,
And weened well ere long his will to win,
And both his foen with equall foyle to daunt.
Tho to him louting lowly did begin
To plaine of wronges, which had committed bin
By Guyon, and by that false Redcrosse knight,
Which two through treason and deceiptfull gin,
Had slayne Sir Mordant, and his Lady bright:
That more him honour win, to wreak so foule despight.
Therewith all suddeinly he seemd enragd,
And threatned death with dreadfull countenaunce,
As if their liues had in his hand beene gagd;
And with stiffe force shaking his mortall launce,
To let him weet his doughtie valiaunce,
Thus said; Old man, great sure shalbe thy meed,
If where those knights for feare of dew vengeaunce
Doe lurke, thou certeinly to mee areed,
That I may wreake on them their hainous hateful deed.
Certes, my Lord, (said he) that shall I soone,
And giue you eke good helpe to their decay.
But mote I wisely you aduise to doon;
Giue no ods to your foes, but doe puruay
Your selfe of sword before that bloody day:
For they be two the prowest knights on grownd,
And oft approu'd in many hard assay,
And eke of surest steele, that may be fownd,
Doe arme yourself against that day, them to confownd.
Dotard, (saide he) let be thy deepe aduise;
Seemes that through many yeares thy wits thee faile,
And that weake eld hath left thee nothing wise,
Els neuer should thy iudgement be so frayle,
To measure manhood by the sword or mayle.
Is not enough fowre quarters of a man,
Withouten sword or shield, an hoste to quayle?
Thou litle wotest, what this right-hand can:
Speake they, which haue beheld the battailes, which it wan.
The man was much abashed at his boast;
Yet well he wist, that who so would contend
With either of those knightes on euen coast,
Should neede of all his armes, him to defend,
Yet feared least his boldnesse should offend,
When Braggadocchio saide, Once I did sweare,
When with one sword seuen knightes I brought to end,
Thence forth in battaile neuer sword to beare,
But it were that, which noblest knight on earth doth weare.
Perdy Sir knight, saide then th'enchaunterbliue,
That shall I shortly purchase to your hond:
For now the best and noblest knight aliue,
Prince Arthur is, that wonnes in Faerie lond;
He hath a sword, that flames like burning brond.
The same by my deuice I vndertake
Shall by to morrow by thy side be fond.
At which bold word that boaster gan to quake,
And wondred in his minde, what mote that Monster make.
He stayd not for more bidding, but away
Was suddein vanished out of his sight:
The Northerne winde his wings did broad display
At his commaund, and reared him vp light
[Page 224]From of the earth, to take his aerie flight.
They lookt about, but no where could espye
Tract of his foot: then dead through great affright
They both nigh were, and each bad other flye:
Both fled attonce, ne euer backe retourned eye.
Till that they come vnto a forrest greene,
In which they shrowd thēselues from causeles feare;
Yet feare them followes still, where so they beene,
Each trembling leafe, and whistling wind they heare,
As ghastly bug does vnto them affeare:
Yet both doe striue their fearefulnesse to faine.
At last they heard a horne, that shrilled cleare
Throughout the wood, that ecchoed againe,
And made the forrest ring, as it would riue in twaine.
Eft through the thicke they heard one rudely rush;
With noyse whereof he from his loftie steed
Downe fell to ground, and crept into a bush,
To hide his coward head from dying dreed.
But Trompart stoutly stayd to taken heed,
Of what might hap. Eftsoone there stepped foorth
A goodly Ladie clad in hunters weed,
That seemd to be a woman of great worth,
And by her stately portance, borne of heauenly birth.
Her face so faire as flesh it seemed not,
But heuenly pourtraict of bright Angels hew,
Cleare as the skye, withouten blame or blot,
Through goodly mixture of complexions dew;
And in her cheekes the vermeill red did shew
Like roses in a bed of lillies shed,
The which ambrosiall odours from them threw,
And gazers sence with double pleasure fed,
Hable to heale the sicke, and to reuiue the ded.
In her faire eyes two liuing lamps did flame,
Kindled aboue at th'heuenly makers light,
And darted fyrie beames out of the same,
So passing persant, and so wondrous bright,
That quite bereau'd the rash beholders sight:
In them the blinded god his lustfull fyre
To kindle oft assayd, but had no might;
For with dredd Maiestie, and awfull yre,
She broke his wanton darts, and quenched bace desyre.
Her yuorie forhead, full of bountie braue,
Like a broad table did it selfe dispred,
For Loue his loftie triumphes to engraue,
And write the battailes of his great godhed:
All good and honour might therein be red:
For there their dwelling was. And when she spake,
Sweete wordes, like dropping honny she did shed,
And twixt the perles and rubins softly brake
A siluer sound, that heauenly musicke seemd to make.
Vpon her eyelids many Graces sate,
Vnder the shadow of her euen browes,
Working belgardes, and amorous retrate,
And euerie one her with a grace endowes:
And euerie one with meekenesse to her bowes.
So glorious mirrhour of celestiall grace,
And soueraine moniment of mortall vowes,
How shall frayle pen descriue her heauenly face,
For feare through want of skill her beauty to disgrace?
So faire, and thousand thousand times more faire
She seemd, when she presented was to sight,
And was yclad, for heat of scorching aire,
All in a silken Camus lylly whight,
[Page 226]Purfled vpon with many a folded plight,
Which all aboue besprinckled was throughout,
With golden aygulets, that glistred bright,
Like twinckling starres, and all the skirt about
Was hemd with golden fringe
Below her ham her weed did somewhat trayne,
And her streight legs most brauely were embayld
Ingilden buskins of costly Cordwayne,
All bard with golden bendes, which were entayld
With curious antickes, and full fayre [...]:
Before they fastned were vnder her knee
In a rich iewell, and therein entrayld
The ends of all the knots, that none might see,
How they within their fouldings close enwrapped bee.
Like two faire marble pillours they did seene,
Which doe the temple of the Gods support,
Whom all the people decke with girlands greene,
And honour in their festiuall resort;
Those same with stately grace, and princely port
She taught to tread, when she her selfe would grace,
But with the woody Nymphes when she did play,
Or when the flying Libbard she did chace,
She could them nimbly moue, and after fly apace.
And in her hand a sharpe bore-speare she held,
And at her backe a bow and quiuer gay,
Stuft with steele-headed dartes, wherewith she queld
The saluage beastes in her victorious play,
Knit with a golden bauldricke, which forelay
Athwart her snowy brest, and did diuide
Her daintie paps; which like young fruit in May
Now little gan to swell, and being tide,
Through her thin weed their places only signifide.
Her yellow lockes crisped, like golden wyre,
About her shoulders weren loosely shed,
And when the winde emongst them did inspyre,
They waued like a penon wyde dispred
And low behinde her backe were scattered:
And whether art it were, or heedelesse hap,
As through the flouring forrest rash she fled,
In her rude heares sweet flowres themselues did lap,
And flourishing fresh leaues and blossomes did enwrap.
Such as Diana by the sandy shore
Of swift Eurotas, or on Cynthus greene,
Where all the Nymphes haue her vnwares forlore,
Wandreth alone with bow and arrowes keene,
To seeke her game: Or as that famous Queene
Of Amazons, whom Pyrrhus did destroy,
The day that first of Priame she was seene,
Did shew her selfe in great triumphant ioy,
To succour the weake state of sad afflicted Troy.
Such when as hartlesse Trompart her did vew,
He was dismayed in his coward minde,
And doubted, whether he himselfe should shew,
Or fly away, or bide alone behinde:
Both feare and hope he in her face did finde,
When she at last him spying thus bespake;
Hayle Groome; didst not thou see a bleeding Hynde,
Whose right haunch earst my stedfast arrow strake?
If thou didst, tell me, that I may her ouertake.
Wherewith reviu'd, this answere forth he threw;
O Goddesse, (for such I thee take to bee)
For nether doth thy face terrestriall shew,
Nor voyce sound mortall; I auow to thee,
[Page 228]Such wounded beast, as that, I did not see,
Sith earst into this forrest wild I came.
Bur [...] thy goodly hed forgiue it mee,
To [...], which of the Gods I shall thee name,
That vnto thee dew worship I may rightly frame.
To whom she thus, but ere her words ensewd,
Vnto the bush her eye did suddein glaunce,
In which vaine Braggadocchio was mewd,
And saw it stirre: she lefte her percing launce,
And towards gan a deadly shafte aduaunce,
In mind to marke the beast. At which sad stowre,
[...] forth stept, to stay the mortall chaunce,
Out crying, O what euer heuenly powre,
Or earthly wight thou be, withhold this deadly howre.
O stay thy hand, for yonder is no game
For thy fiers arrowes, them to exercize,
But loe my Lord, my liege, whose warlike name,
Is far renowmd through many bold emprize;
And now in shade he shrowded yonder lies.
She staid: with that he crauld out of his nest,
Forth creeping on his caitiue hands and thies,
And standing stoutly vp, his lofty crest
Did fiercely shake, and rowze, as comming late frō rest.
As fearfull fowle, that long in secret caue
For dread of soring hauke her selfe hath hid,
Not caring how her silly life to saue,
She her gay painted plumes disorderid,
Seeing at last her selfe from daunger rid,
Peepes forth, and soone renews her natiue pride;
She gins her feathers fowle disfigured
Prowdly to prune, and sett on euery side,
So shakes off shame, ne thinks how erst she did her hide.
So when her goodly visage he beheld,
He gan himselfe to vaunt: but when he vewd
Those deadly tooles, which in her hand she held,
Soone into other fitts he was transmewd,
Till she to him her gracious speach renewd;
All haile, Sir knight, and well may thee befall,
As all the like, which honor haue pursewd
Through deeds of armes and prowesse martiall;
All vertue merits praise, but such the most of all.
To whom he thus, O fairest vnder skie,
Trew be thy words, and worthy of thy praise,
That warlike feats doest highest glorifie.
Therein I haue spent all my youthly daies,
And many battailes fought, and many fraies
Throughout the world, wher so they might be foūd,
Endeuoring my dreaded name to raise
Aboue the Moone, that fame may it resound
In her eternall tromp, with laurell girlond cround.
But what art thou, O Lady, which doest raunge
In this wilde forest, where no pleasure is,
And doest not it for ioyous court exchaunge,
Emongst thine equall peres, where happy blis
And all delight does raigne, much more then this?
There thou maist loue, and dearly loued be,
And swim in pleasure, which thou here doest mis;
There maist thou best be seene, and best maist [...]:
The wood is fit for beasts, the court is fitt for thee.
Who so in pompe of prowd estate (qd. she)
Does swim, and bathes him selfe in courtly blis,
Does waste his dayes in darke obscuritee,
And in obliuion euer buried is:
[Page 230]Where ease abownds, yt's eath to doe amis;
But who his limbs with labours, and his mynd
Behaues with cares, cannot so easy mis.
Abroad in armes, at home in studious kynd
Who seekes with painfull toile, shal honor soonest fynd.
In woods, in waues, in warres she wonts to dwell,
And wilbe found with perill and with paine;
Ne can the man, that moulds in ydle cell,
Vnto her happy mansion attaine:
Before her gate high God did Sweate ordaine,
And wakefull watches euer to abide:
But easy is the way, and passage plaine
To pleasures pallace; it may soone be spide,
And day and night her dores to all stand open wide.
In Princes court. The rest she would haue sayd,
But that the foolish man, fild with delight
Of her sweete words, that all his sence dismayd,
And with her wondrous beauty rauisht quight,
Gan burne in filthy lust, and leaping light,
Thought in his bastard armes her to embrace.
With that she [...] backe, her Iauelin bright
Against him bent, and fiercely did menace:
So turned her about, and fled away apace.
Which when the Pesaunt saw, amazd he stood,
And grieued at her flight; yet durst he nott
Pursew her steps, through wild vnknowen wood;
Besides he feard her wrath, and threatned shott
Whiles in the bush he lay, not yet forgott:
Ne car'd he greatly for her presence vayne,
But turning said to Trompart, What fowle blott
Is this to knight, that Lady should agayne
Depart to woods vntoucht, & leaue so proud disdayne?
Perdy (said Trompart) lett her pas at will,
Least by her presence daunger [...] befall.
For who can tell (and sure I feare it ill)
But that shee is some powre celestiall?
For whiles she spake, her great words did apall
My feeble corage, and my heart oppresse,
That yet I quake and tremble ouer all.
And I (said Braggadocchio) thought no [...],
When first I heard her horn foūd with such ghastlinesse.
For from my mothers wombe this grace I haue
Me giuen by eternall destiny,
That earthly thing may not my corage braue
Dismay with feare, or cause on foote to flye,
But either hellish feends, or powres on hye:
Which was the cause, when earst that horne I heard,
Weening it had beene thunder in the skye,
I hid my selfe from it, as one affeard;
But when I other knew, my selfe I boldly reard.
But now for feare of worse, that may betide,
Let vs soone hence depart. They soone agree;
So to his steed he gott, and gan to ride,
As one vnfitt therefore, that all might see
He had not trayned bene in cheualree.
Which well that valiaunt courser did discerne;
For he despisd to tread in dew degree,
But chaufd and fom'd, with corage fiers and sterne,
And to be easd of that base burden still did erne.
Cant. IIII.
Guyon does Furor bind in chaines,
And stops occasion:
Deliuers Phaon, and therefore
By strife is rayld vppon.
IN braue poursuitt of honorable deed,
There is I know not (what) great difference
Betweene the vulgar and the noble seed,
Which vnto things of valorours pretence
Seemes to be borne by natiue influence;
As feates of armes, and loue to entertaine,
But chiefly skill to ride seemes a science
Proper to gentle blood; some others faine
To menage steeds, as did this vaunter; but in vaine.
But he the rightfull owner of that steede,
Who well could menage and subdew his pride,
The whiles on foot was forced for to yeed,
With that blacke Palmer, his most trusty guide;
Who suffred not his wandring feete to slide.
But when strong passion or weake fleshlinesse,
Would from the right way seeke to draw him wide,
He would through temperaunce and stedfastnesse,
Teach him the weak to strēgthen, & the strōg suppresse.
It fortuned forth faring on his way,
He saw from far, or seemed for to see
Some troublous vprore or contentious fray,
Whereto he drew in hast it to agree.
[Page 233]A mad man, or that feigned mad to bee,
Drew by the heare along vpon the grownd,
A handsom stripling with great crueltee,
Whom sore he bett, and gor'd with many a wownd,
That cheekes with teares, & sydes with blood did all abownd.
And him behynd, a wicked Hag did stalke,
In ragged robes, and filthy disaray,
Her other leg was lame, that she no'te walke.
But on a staffe her feeble steps did stay;
Her lockes, that loathly were and hoarie gray,
Grew all afore, and loosly hong vnrold,
But all behinde was bald, and worne away,
That none thereof could euer taken hold,
And eke her face ill fauourd, full of wrinckles old.
And euer as she went, her toung did walke
In fowle reproch, and termes of vile despight,
Prouoking him by her outrageous talke,
To heape more vengeance on that wretched wight;
Somtimes she raught him stones, wherwith to smite,
Sometimes her staffe, though it her one leg were,
Withouten which she could not goe vpright;
Ne any euill meanes she did forbeare,
That might him moue to wrath, and in dignation reare.
The noble Guyon mou'd with great remorse,
Approching, first the Hag did thrust away,
And after adding more impetuous forse,
His mighty hands did on the madman lay,
And pluckt him backe; who all on fire streight way,
Against him turning all his fell intent,
With beastly brutish rage [...] him assay,
And smott, and bitt, and kickt, and scratcht, and rent,
And did he wist not what in his auengement.
And sure he was a man of mickle might,
Had he had gouernaunce, it well to guyde:
But when the frantick fitt inflamd his spright,
His force was vaine, and strooke more often wyde,
Then at the aymed marke, which he had eyde:
And oft himselfe he chaunst to hurt vnwares,
Whylest reasō blent through passiō, nought descryde
But as a blindfold Bull at randon fares,
And where he hits, nought knowes, & whom he hurts, nought cares.
His rude assault and rugged handeling
Straunge seemed to the knight, that aye with foe
In fayre defence and goodly menaging
Of armes was wont to fight, yet nathemoe
Was he abashed now not fighting so,
But more enfierced through his currish play,
Him sternly grypt, and hailing to and fro,
To ouerthrow him strongly did assay,
But ouerthrew him selfe vnwares, and lowerlay.
And being downe the villein sore did beate,
And bruze with clownish [...] his manly face:
And eke the Hag with many a bitter threat.
Still cald vpon to kill him in the place.
With whose reproch and odious menace
The knight [...] in his haughtie hart,
Knitt all his forces, and gan soone vnbrace
His grasping hold: so lightly did vpstart,
And drew his deadly weapon, to maintaine his part.
Which when the Palmersaw, he loudly cryde,
Not so O Guyon, neuer thinke that so
That Monster can be maistred or destroyd:
He is no, ah, he is not such a foe,
[Page 235]As steele can [...], or strength can ouerthroe.
That same is Furor, cursed cruel wight,
That vnto knighthood workes much shame & woe;
And that same Hag, his aged mother, hight
Occasion, the roote of all wrath and despight,
With her, who so will raging Furor tame,
Must first begin, and well her amenage:
First her restraine from her reprochfull blame,
And euill meanes, with which she doth enrage
Her frantick sonne, and kindles his corage,
Then when she is withdrawne, or strong withstood,
It's eath his ydle fury to aswage,
And calme the tempest of his passion wood;
The bankes are ouerflowne, when stopped is the flood.
Therewith Sir Guyon left his first emprise,
And turning to that woman, fast her hent
By the hoare lockes, that hong before her eyes,
And to the ground her threw: yet n'ould she stent
Her bitter rayling and foule reuilement,
But still prouokt her sonne to wreake her wrong;
But nathelesse he did her still torment,
And catching hold of her vngratious tongue,
Thereon an yron lock, did fasten firme and strong.
Then whenas vse of speach was from her reft,
With her two crooked handes she signes did make,
And beckned him, the last help she had left:
But he that last left helpe away did take,
And both her handes fast bound vnto a stake,
That she note stirre. Then gan her sonne to flye
Full fast away, and did her quite forsake;
But Guyon after him [...] hast did hye,
And soone him ouertooke in sad perplexitye.
In his strong armes he stifly him embraste,
Who him gainstriuing, nought at all preuaild:
For all his power was vtterly defaste,
And furious fitts at earst quite weren quaild:
Oft he re'nforst, and oft his forces fayld,
Yet yield he would not, nor his rancor slack.
Then him to ground he cast, and rudely hayld,
And both his hands fast bound behind his backe,
And both his feet in fetters to an yron rack.
With hundred yron chaines he did him [...],
And hundred knots that did him sore constraine:
Yet his great yron teeth he still did grind,
And grimly gnash, threatning reuenge in vaine:
His burning eyen, whom bloody strakes did staine,
Stared full wide, and threw forth sparkes offyre,
And more for ranck [...], then for great paine,
Shakt his long locks, colourd like copper-wyre,
And [...] his tawny beard to shew his raging yre.
Thus whenas Guyon Furor had captiud,
Turning about he saw that wretched Squyre,
Whom that mad man of life nigh late depriud,
Lying on ground, all foild with blood and myre:
Whom when as he perceiued to respyre,
He gan to comfort, and his woundes to dresse.
Being at last recured, he gan inquyre,
What hard mishap him brought to such distresse,
And made that caytiues thrall, the thrall of wretchednesse.
With hart then throbbing, and with watry eyes,
Fayre Sir (qd.he) what man can shun the hap,
That hidden lyes vnwares him to surpryse
Misfortune waites aduantage to entrap
[Page 237]The man most wary in her whelming lap,
So me weake wretch, of many weakest wretch,
Vnweeting, and vnware of such mishap,
She brought to mischiefe through her guilful trech,
Where this same wicked villein did me wādring ketch.
It was a faithlesse Squire, that was the sourse
Of all my sorrow, and of these sad teares,
With whom from tender dug of commune nourse,
Attonce I was vpbrought, and eft when yeares
More rype vs reason lent to chose our Peares,
Our selues in league of vowed loue wee knitt:
In which we long time without gealous feares,
Or faultie thoughts [...], as was fitt;
And for my part I vow, dissembled not a whitt.
It was my fortune, commune to that age,
To loue a Lady fayre of great degree,
The which was borne of noble parentage,
And set in highest seat of dignitee,
Yet seemd no lesse to loue, then loued to bee:
Long I her seru'd, and found her faithfull still,
Ne euer thing could cause vs disagree:
Loue that two [...] makes one, makes eke one will:
Each stroue to please, and others pleasure to fulfill.
My friend, hight Philemon, I did partake,
Of all my loue and all my priuitie;
Who greatly ioyous seemed for my sake,
And gratious to that Lady, as to mee,
Ne euer wight, that more so welcome bee,
As he to her, withouten blott or blame,
Ne euer thing, that she could thinke or see,
But vnto him she would impart the same:
O wretched man, that would abuse so gentle Dame.
At last such grace I found, and meanes I wrought,
That I that Lady to my spouse had wonne;
Accord of friendes, consent of Parents sought,
Affyaunce made, my happinesse begonne,
There wanted nought but few rites to be donne,
Which mariage make; that day too farre did seeme:
Most ioyous man, on whom the shining Sunne,
Did shew his face, my selfe I did esteeme,
And that my falser friend did no lesse ioyous deeme.
But ear that wished day his beame disclosd,
He either enuying my toward good,
Or of him selfe to treason ill disposd
One day vnto me came in friendly mood,
And told for secret how he vnderstood
That Lady whom I had to me assynd,
Had both distaind her honorable blood,
And eke the faith, which she to me did bynd;
And therfore wisht me stay, till I more truth should fynd.
The gnawing anguish and sharp gelosy,
Which his sad speach infixed in my brest,
Ranckled so sore, and festred inwardly,
That my engreeued mind could find no rest,
Till that the truth thereof I did out wrest,
And him besought by that same sacred band
Betwixt vs both, to counsell me the best.
He then with solemne oath and plighted hand
Assurd, ere long the truth to let me vnderstand.
Ere long with like againe he boorded mee,
Saying, he now had boulted all the floure,
And that it was a groome of base degree,
Which of my loue was partener Paramoure:
[Page 239]Who vsed in a darkesome inner bowre
Her oft to meete: which better to approue,
He promised to bring me at that howre,
When I should see, that would me nearer moue,
And driue me to withdraw my blind abused loue.
This gracelesse man for furtherance of his guile,
Did court the handmayd of my Lady deare,
Who glad t'embosome his affection vile,
Did all she might, more pleasing to appeare.
One day to worke her to his will more neare,
He woo'd her thus: Pryene (so she hight)
What great despight doth fortune to thee beare,
Thus lowly to abase thy beautie bright,
That it should not deface all others lesser light?
But if she had her least helpe to thee lent,
T'adorne thy forme according thy desart,
Their blazing pride thou wouldest soone haue blent,
And staynd their prayses with thy least good part;
Ne should faire Claribell with all her art,
Though she thy Lady be, approch thee neare:
For proofe thereof, this euening, as thou art,
Aray thy selfe in her most gorgeous geare,
That I may more delight in thy embracement deare.
The Maydē proud through praise, & mad through loue
Him hearkned to, and soone her selfe arayd,
The whiles to me the treachour did remoue
His craftie engin, and as he had sayd,
Me leading, in a secret corner layd,
The sad spectatour of my Tragedie;
Where left, he went, and his owne false part playd,
Disguised like that groome of base degree,
Whom he had feignd th'abuser of my loue to bee.
Eftsoones he came vnto th'appointed place,
And with him brought Pryene, rich arayd,
In Claribellaes clothes. Her proper face
I not descerned in that darkesome shade,
But weend it was my loue, with whom he playd.
All God, what horrour and tormenting griefe
My hart, my handes, mine eyes, and all assayd:
Me liefer were ten thousand deathes priefe,
Then wounde of gealous worme, and shame of such repriefe.
I home retourning, fraught with fowle despight,
And chawing vengeaunce all the way I went,
Soone as my loathed loue appeard in sight,
With wrathfull hand I slew her innocent;
That after soone I dearely did lament:
For when the cause of that outrageous deede
Demaunded, I made plaine and euident,
Her faultie Handmayd, which that bale did breede,
Confest, how Philemon her wrought to chaunge her weede.
Which when I heard, with horrible affright
And hellish fury all enragd, I sought
Vpon my selfe that vengeable despight
To punish: yet it better first I thought,
To wreake my wrath on him, that first it wrought.
To Philemon, false faytour Philemon
I cast to pay, that I so dearely bought;
Of deadly drugs I gaue him drinke anon,
And washt away his guilt with guilty potion.
Thus heaping crime on crime, and griefe on griefe,
To losse of loue adioyning losse of frend,
I meant to purge both with a third mischiefe,
And in my woes beginner it to end:
[Page 241]That was Pryene; she did first offend,
She last should smart: with which cruell intent,
When I at her my murdrous blade did bend,
She fled away with ghastly dreriment,
And I poursewing my fell purpose, after went.
Feare gaue her winges, and rage enforst my flight;
Through woods and plaines so long I did her chace,
Till this mad man, whom your victorious might
Hath now fast bound, me met in middle space,
As I her, so he me poursewd apace,
And shortly ouertooke: I breathing yre,
Sore chauffed at my stay in such a cace,
And with my heat kindled his cruell fyre;
Which kindled once, his mother did more rage inspyre.
Betwixt them both, they haue me doen to dye,
Through wounds, & strokes, & stubborne handeling,
That death were better, then such agony,
As griefe and fury vnto me did bring;
Of which in me yet stickes the mortall sting,
That during life will neuer be appeasd.
When he thus ended had his sorrowing,
Said Guyon, Squyre, sore haue ye beene diseasd;
But all your hurts may soone through tēperance be easd.
Then gan the Palmer thus, most wretched man,
That to affections does the bridle lend;
In their beginning they are weake and wan,
But soone through suff'rance growe to fearefull end;
Whiles they are weake betimes with them contend:
For when they once to perfect strength do grow,
Strong warres they make, and cruell battry bend
Gainst fort of Reason, it to ouerthrow:
Wrath, gelosy, griefe, loue this Squyre haue laide thus low.
Wrath, gealosie, griefe, loue do thus expell:
Wrath is a fire, and gealosie a weede,
Griefe is a flood, and loue a monster fell;
The fire of sparkes, the weede of little seede,
The flood of drops, the Monster filth did breede:
But sparks, feed, drops, and filth do thus delay;
The sparks soone quench, the springing seed outweed
The drops dry vp, and filth wipe cleane away:
So shall wrath, gealosy, griefe, loue die and decay.
Vnlucky Squire (saide Guyon) sith thou hast
Falne into mischiefe through intemperaunce,
Henceforth take heede of that thou now hast past,
And guyde thy waies with warie gouernaunce,
Least worse betide thee by some later chaunce.
But read how art thou nam'd, and of what kin.
Phaon I hight (quoth he) and do aduaunce
Mine auncestry from famous Coradin,
Who first to rayse our house to honour did begin.
Thus as he spake, lo far away they spyde
A varlet ronning towardes hastily,
Whose flying feet so fast their way applyde,
That round about a cloud of dust did fly,
Which mingled all with sweate, did dim his eye.
He soone approched, panting, breathlesse, whot,
And all so soyld, that none could him descry;
His countenaunce was bold, and bashed not
For Guyons lookes, but scornefull eyglaunce at him shot.
Behind his backe he bore a brasen shield,
On which was drawen faire, in colours fit,
A flaming fire in midst of bloody field,
And round about the wreath this word was writ,
[Page 243] Burnt I doe burne. Right well beseemed it,
To be the shield of some redoubted knight;
And in his hand two dartes exceeding flit,
And deadly sharp he held, whose heads were dight
In poyson and in blood, of malice and despight.
When he in presence came, to Guyon first
He boldly spake, Sir knight, if knight thou bee,
Abandon this forestalled place at erst,
For feare of further harme, I counsell thee,
Or bide the chaunce at thine owne ieopardee.
The knight at his great boldnesse wondered,
And though he scornd his ydle vanitee,
Yet mildly him to purpose answered;
For not to grow of nought he it coniectured.
Varlet, this place most dew to me I deeme,
Yielded by him, that held it forcibly.
But whence shold come that harme, which thou dost seeme
To threat to him, that mindes his chaunce t'abye?
Perdy (sayd he) here comes, and is hard by
A knight of wondrous powre, and great assay,
That neuer yet encountred enemy,
But did him deadly daunt, or fowle dismay;
Ne thou for better hope, if thou his presence stay.
How hight he then (sayd Guyon) and from whence?
Pyrrhochles is his name, renowmed farre
For his bold feates and hardy confidence,
Full oft approud in many a cruell warre,
The brother of Cymochles, both which arre
The sonnes of old Acrates and Despight,
Acrates sonne of Phlegeton and Iarre;
But Phlegeton is sonne of Herebus and Night;
But Herebus sonne of Aeternitie is hight.
So from immortall race he does proceede,
That mortall hands may not withstand his might,
Drad for his derring doe, and bloody deed;
For all in blood aud spoile is his delight.
His am I Atin, his in wrong and right,
That matter make for him to worke vpon,
And stirre him vp to strife and cruell fight.
Fly therefore, fly this fearfull stead anon,
Least thy foolhardize worke thy sad confusion.
His be that care, whom most it doth concerne.
(Sayd he) but whether with such hasty flight
Art thou now bownd? for well mote I discerne
Great cause, that carries thee so swifte and light.
My Lord (qd. he) me sent, and streight behight
To seeke Occasion; where so she bee:
For he is all disposd to bloody fight,
And breathes out wrath and hainous crueltee;
Hard is his hap, that first fals in his ieopardee.
Mad man (said then the Palmer) that does seeke
Occasion to wrath, and cause of strife;
Shee comes vnsought, and shonned followes eke.
Happy, who can abstaine, when Rancor rife
Kindles Reuenge, and threats his rusty knife;
Woe neuer wants, where euery cause is caught,
And rash Occasion makes vnquiet life.
Then loe, wher bound she sits, whō thou hast sought,
Said Guyon, let that message to thy Lord be brought.
That when the varlett heard and saw, streight way
He wexed wondrous wroth, and said, Vile knight,
That knights & knighthood doest with shame vpbray,
And shewst th'ensāple of thy childishe might,
[Page 245]With silly weake old woman that did fight.
Great glory and gay spoile sure hast thou gott,
And stoutly prou'd thy puissaunce here in sight;
That shall Pyrrhochles well requite, I wott,
And with thy blood abolish so reprochfull blott.
With that one of his thrillant darts he threw,
Headed with yre and vengeable despight;
The quiuering steele his aymed end wel knew,
And to his brest it selfe intended right:
But he was wary, and ere it empight
In the meant marke, aduaunst his shield atweene,
On which it seizing, no way enter might,
But backe rebownding, left the forckhead keene;
Estsoones he fled away, and might no where be seene.
Cant. V.
Pyrrhochles does with Guyon fight,
And Furors chayne vntyes,
Who him sore wounds, whiles Atin to
Gymochles for ayd flyes.
WHo euer doth to temperaunce apply
His stedfast life, and all his actions frame,
Trust me, shal find no greater enimy,
Then stubborne perturbation, to the same;
To which right wel the wise doe giue that name,
For it the goodly peace of staied mindes
Does ouerthrow, and troublous warre proclame:
His owne woes author, who so bound it findes,
As did Pirrhocles, and it wilfully vnbindes.
After that varlets flight, it was not long,
Ere on the plaine fast pricking Guyon spide
One in bright armes embatteiled full strong,
That as the Sunny beames doe glaunce and, glide
Vpon the trembling waue, so shined bright,
And round about him threw forth sparkling fire,
That seemd him to enflame on euery side:
His steed was bloody red, and fomed yre,
When with the maistring spur he did him roughly stire.
Approching nigh, he neuer staid to greete,
Ne chaffar words, prowd corage to prouoke,
But prickt so fiers, that vnderneath his feete
The smouldring dust did rownd about him smoke,
Both horse and man nigh able for to choke;
And fayrly couching his steeleheaded speare,
Him first saluted with a sturdy stroke:
It booted nought Sir Guyon comming neare
To thincke, such hideous puissaunce on foot to beare.
But lightly shunned it, and passing by,
With his bright blade did smite at him so fell,
That the sharpe steele arriuing forcibly
On his broad shield, bitt not, but glaun cingfell
On his horse necke before the quilred sell,
And from the head the body sundred quight.
So him dismounted low, he did compell
On foot with him to matchen equall fight;
The truncked beast fast bleeding, did him fowly dight.
Sore bruzed with the fall, he slow vprose,
And all enraged, thus him loudly shent;
Disle all knight, whose coward corage chose
To wreake it selfe on beast all innnocent,
[Page 247]And shund the marke, at which it should be ment,
Therby thine armes seem strong, but manhood frayl:
So hast thou ost with guile thine honor blent;
But litle may such guile thee now auayl,
If wonted force and fortune doe me not much fayl.
With that he drew his flaming sword, and strooke
At him so fiercely, that the vpper marge
Of his seuenfolded shield away it tooke,
And glauncing on his helmet, made a large
And open gash therein: were not his targe,
That broke the violence of his intent,
The weary sowle from thence it would discharge,
Nathelesse so sore a buff to him it lent,
That made him reele, and to his brest his beuer bent.
Exceeding wroth was Guyon at that blow,
And much ashamd, that stroke of liuing arme
Should him dismay, and make him stoup so low,
Though otherwise it did him litle harme:
Tho hurling high his yron braced arme,
He smote so manly on his shoulder plate,
That all his left side it did quite disarme;
Yet there the steele stayd not, but inly bate
Deepe in his flesh, and opened wide a red floodgate.
Deadly dismayd, with horror of that dint
Pyrrhochles was, and grieued eke entyre;
Yet nathemore did it his fury stint,
But added flame vnto his former fire,
That welnigh molt his hart in raging yre;
Ne thenceforth his approued skill, to ward,
Or strike, or hurtle rownd in warlike gyre,
Remembred he, ne car'd for his saufgard,
But rudely rag'd, and like a cruel tygre far'd.
He hewd, and lasht, and foynd, and thondred blowes,
And euery way did seeke into his life,
Ne plate, ne male could ward so mighty throwes,
But yeilded passage to his cruell knife.
But Guyon, in the heat of all his strife,
Was wary wise, and closely did awayt
Auauntage, whilest his foe did rage most rife;
Sometimes a thwart, sometimes he strook him strayt,
And falsed oft his blowes, t'illude him with such bayt.
Like as a Lyon, whose imperiall powre
A prowd rebellious Vnicorne defyes,
T'auoide the rash assault and wrathfull stowre
Of his fiers foe, him to a tree applyes,
And when him ronning in full course he spyes,
He slips aside; the whiles that furious beast
His precious horne, sought of his enimye
Strikes in the stocke, ne thence can be releast,
But to the mighty victor yields a bounteous feast.
With such faire sleight him Guyon often fayld,
Till at the last all breathlesse, weary, faint
Him spying, with fresh onsett he assayld,
And kindling new his corage seeming queint,
Strooke him so hugely, that through grear constraint
He made him stoup perforce vnto his knee,
And doe vnwilling worship to the Saint,
That on his shield depainted he did see;
Such homage till that instant neuer learned hee.
Whom Guyon seeing stoup, poursewed fast
The present offer of faire victory,
And soone his dreadfull blade about he cast,
Wherewith he smote his haughty crest so hye,
[Page 249]That streight on grownd made him full low to lye;
Then on his brest his victor foote he thrust,
With that he cryde, Mercy, doe me not dye,
Ne deeme thy force by fortunes doome vniust,
That hath (maugre her spight) thus low me laid in dust.
Eftsoones his cruel hand Sir Guyon stayd,
Tempring the passion with aduizement slow,
And maistring might on enimy dismayd:
For th'equall die of warre he well did know.
Then to him said, Liue and alleagaunce owe,
To him, that giues thee life and liberty,
And henceforth by this daies ensample trow,
That hasty wroth, and heedlesse hazardry
Doe breede repentaunce late, and lasting infamy.
So vp he let him rise, who with grim looke
And count'naunce sterne vpstanding, gan to grind
His grated teeth for great disdeigne, and shooke
His sandy lockes, long hanging downe behind,
Knotted in blood and dust, for griefe of mind,
That he in ods of armes was conquered;
Yet in himselfe some comfort he did find,
That him so noble knight had maystered,
Whose bounty more then might, yet both he wōdered.
Which Guyon marking said, Be nought agrieu'd,
Sir knight, that thus ye now subdewed arre:
Was neuer man, who most conquestes atchieu'd
But sometimes had the worse, and lost by warre,
Yet shortly gaynd, that losse exceeded farre:
Losse is no shame, nor to bee lesse then foe,
But to bee lesser, then himselfe, doth marre
Both loosers lott, and victours prayse alsoe.
Vaine others ouerthrowes, who selfe doth ouerthrow.
Fly, O Pyrrhochles, fly the dreadfull warre,
That in thy selfe thy lesser partes doe moue,
Outrageous anger, and woe working iarre,
Direfull impatience, and hartmurdring loue;
Those, those thy foes, those warriours far remoue,
Which thee to endlesse bale captiued lead.
But sith in might thou didst my mercy proue,
Of courtesie to mee the cause aread,
That thee against me drew with so impetuous dread.
Dreadlesse (said he) that shall I soone declare:
It was complaind, that thou hadst done great tort
Vnto an aged woman, poore and bare,
And thralled her in chaines with strong effort,
[...] of all succour and needfull comfort:
That ill beseemes thee, such as I thee see,
To worke such shame. Therefore I thee exhort,
To chaunge thy will, and set occasion free,
And to her captiue sonne yield his first [...].
Thereat Sir Guyon smylde, And is that all
(Said he) that thee so sore displeased hath?
Great mercy sure, for to enlarge a thrall,
Whose freedom [...] thee turne to greatest scath.
Nath'lesse now quench thy [...] embayling wrath:
Loe there they bee; to thee I yield them free.
Thereat he wondrous glad, out of the path
Did lightly leape, where he them bound did see,
And gan to breake the bands of their captiuitee.
Soone as Occasion felt her selfe vntyde,
Before her sonne could well assoyled bee,
She to her vse returnd, and streight defyde
Both Guyon and [...]: th'one (said hee)
[Page 251]Bycause he [...]; the other because hee
Was wonne: So matter did she make of nought,
To stirre vp strife, and garre them disagree:
But soone as Furor was enlargd, she sought
To kindle his [...] fyre, & thousād causes wrought.
It was not long, ere she [...] him so,
That he would algates with Pyrrhochles fight,
And his redeemer chalengd for his foe,
Because he had not well mainteind his right,
But yielded had to that same straunger knight:
Now gan Pyrrhochles wex as wood, as hee,
And him affronted with impatient might:
So both together fiers engrasped bee,
Whyles Guyon stāding by, their vncouth strife does see.
Him all that while Occasion did prouoke
Against Pyrrhochles, and new matter fram'd
Vpon the old, him stirring to bee wroke
Of his late wronges, in which she oft him blam'd
For suffering such abuse, as knighthood sham'd,
And him dishabled [...]. But he was wise,
Ne would with vaine occasions be inflam'd;
Yet others she more vrgent did deuise:
Yet nothing could him to impatience entise.
Their fell contention still increased more,
And more thereby increased Furors might,
That he his foe has hurt, and wounded sore,
And him in blood and durt deformed quight.
His mother eke, more to augment his spight,
Now brought to him a [...] fyer brond,
Which she in Stygian lake [...] burning bright
Had kindled: that she gaue into his hond,
That armd with fire, more hardly he mote him withstōd
Tho gan that villein [...] so fiers and strong,
That nothing might [...] his furious forse;
He cast him downe to ground, and all along
Drew him through durt and myre without remorse,
And fowly battered his comely corse,
That [...] much disdeignd so loathly sight.
At last he was compeld to cry perforse,
Help, O Sir Guyon; helpe most noble knight,
To ridd a wretched man from handes of hellish wight.
The knight was greatly moued at his playnt,
And gan him [...] to succour his distresse,
Till that the Palmer, by his graue restraynt,
Him stayd from yielding pitifull redresse;
[...] said, Deare sonne, thy causelesse ruth represse,
Ne let thy stout hart melt in pitty vayne:
He that his [...] sought through wilfulnesse,
And his foe fettred would release agayne,
Deserues to taste his [...] fruit, repented payne.
Guyon obayd; So him away he drew
From needlesse trouble of [...] fight
Already fought, his voyage to [...].
But rash [...] varlett, Atin hight,
When late he saw his Lord in heauie plight,
Vnder Sir Guyons puissaunt stroke to fall,
Him deeming dead, as then he seemd in sight,
Fledd fast away, to tell his funerall
Vnto his brother, whom Cymochles men did call.
He was a man of rare redoubted might,
Famous throughout the world for warlike prayse,
And glorious spoiles, purchast in perilous fight:
Full many doughtie knightes he in his dayes
Whose [...], for [...] of his name,
Of fowles and beastes he made the [...] prayes,
And hong their conquerd armes for more defame
On gallow trees, in honour of his dearest Dame.
His dearest Dame is that Enchaunteresse,
The vyle [...], that with vaine delightes,
And ydle pleasures in her Bowre of Blisse,
Does charme her louers, and the feeble sprightes
Can call out of the bodies offraile wightes:
Whom then she does trāsforme to mōstrous hewes,
And horribly misshapes with vgly sightes,
Captiu'd eternally in yron mewes,
And darksom dens, where Titan his face neuer shewes.
There Atin fownd [...] soiourning,
To serue his [...] loue for he by kynd,
Was giuen all to dust and loose liuing,
When euer his fiers handes he free mote fynd:
And now he has pourd out his ydle mynd
In daintie delices, and lauish ioyes,
Hauing his warlike weapons cast behynd,
And flowes in pleasures, and vaine pleasing toyes,
Mingled emongst loose Ladies and lsciuious boyes.
And ouer him, art stryuing to compayre,
With nature, did an Arber greene disored,
Framed of want on Yuie, flouring fayre,
Through which the fragrant Eglantine did spred
His prickling armes, entrayld with roses red,
Which daintie odours round about them threw,
And all within with flowres was garnished,
That when myld Zephyrus emongst them blew,
Did breath out bounteous smels, & painted colors shew
And fast beside, there trickled softly downe
A gentle streame, whose murmuring waue did play
Emongst the pumy stones, and made a sowne,
To [...] him [...] a sleepe, that by it lay;
The wearie Traueiler, wandring that way,
Therein did often quench his thristy heat,
And then by it his wearie limbes display,
Whiles creeping slomber made him to forget
His former payne, and wypt away his toilsom sweat.
And on the other syde a pleasaunt groue
Was shott vp high, full of the stately tree,
That dedicated is t'Olympick Ioue,
And to his sonne Alcides, whenas hee
In Netmus gayned goodly victoree;
Therein the mery birdes of euery sorte
Chaunted alowd their chearefull [...]:
And made emongst them felues a sweete consort,
That quickned the dull spright with musicall comfort.
There he him found all carelesly displaid,
In secrete shadow from the sunny ray,
On a sweet bed of lillies softly laid,
Amidst a flock of Damzelles fresh and gay,
That rownd about him dissolute did play
Their wanton follies, and light meriment;
Euery of which did loosely disaray
Her vpper partes of meet habiliments,
And shewd them naked, deckt with many or naments.
And euery of them stroue, with most delights,
Him to aggrate, and greatest pleasures shew;
Some framd faire lookes, glancing like euening lights
Others sweet wordes, dropping like honny dew;
[Page 255]Some bathed kisses, and did soft embrew
The sugred licour through his melting lips:
One boastes her beautie, and does yield to vew
Her dainty limbes aboue her tender hips;
Another her out boastes, and all for try all strips.
He, like an Adder, lurking in the weedes,
His wandring thought in deepe desire does steepe,
And his frayle eye with spoyle of beauty feedes;
Sometimes he falsely faines himselfe to sleepe,
Whiles through their lids his wanton eies do peepe,
To steale a snatch of amorous conceipt,
Whereby close fire into his heart does creepe:
So, he them deceiues, deceiud in his deceipt,
Made dronke with drugs of deare voluptuous receipt.
Attin arriuing there, when him he spyde,
Thus in still waues of deepe delight to wade,
Fiercely approching, to him lowdly cryde,
Cymochles; oh no, but Cymochles shade,
In which that manly person late did fade,
What is become of great Acrates sonne?
Or where hath he hong vp his mortall blade,
That hath so many haughty conquests wonne?
Is all his force forlorne, and all his glory donne?
Then pricking him with his sharp pointed dart,
He saide; vp, vp, thou womanish weake knight,
That here in Ladies lap entombed art,
Vnmindfull of thy praise and prowest might,
And weetlesse eke of lately wrought despight,
Whiles sad Pyrrhochles lies on sencelesse ground,
And groneth out his vtmost grudging spright,
Through many a stroke, & many a streaming wound,
Calling thy help in vaine, that here in ioyes art dround.
Suddeinly out of his delightfull dreame
The man a woke, and would haue questiond more;
But he would not endure that wofull theame
For to dilate at large, but vrged sore
With percing wordes, and pittifull implore,
Him hasty to arise. As one affright
With hellish feends, or Furies mad vprore,
He then vprose, inflamd with fell despight,
And called for his armes; for he would algates fight.
They beney brought; he quickly does him dight,
And lightly mounted, passeth on his way,
Ne Ladies loues, ne sweete entreaties might
Appease his heat, or hastie passage stay,
For he has vowd, to beene auengd that day,
(That day it selfe him seemed all too long:)
On him, that did Pyrrhochles deare dismay:
So proudly pricketh on his courser strong,
And Attin ay him pricks with spurs of shame & wrong.
Cant. VI.
Guyon is of immodest Merth,
led into loose desyre,
Fights with Cymochles, whiles his bro
ther burnes in furious fyre.
AHarder lesson, to learne Continence
In ioyous pleasure, then in grieuous paine:
For sweetnesse doth allure the weaker sence
So strongly, that vneathes it can refraine
[Page 257]From that, which feeble nature couets faine;
But griefe and wrath, that be her enemies,
And foes of life, she better can abstaine;
Yet vertue vauntes in both her victories,
And Guyon in them all shewes goodly maysteries.
Whom bold Cymochles traueiling to finde,
With cruell purpose bent to wreake on him
The wrath, which Atin kindled in his mind,
Came to a riuer, by whose vtmost brim
Wayting to passe, he saw whereas did swim
A long the shore, as swift as glaunce of eye,
A litle Gondelay, bedecked trim
With boughes and arbours wouen cunningly,
That like a litle forrest seemed outwardly.
And therein sate a Lady fresh and fayre,
Making sweete solace to herselfe alone;
Sometimes she song, as lowd as larke in ayre,
Sometimes she laught, as merry as Pope Ione,
Yet was there not with her else any one,
That to her might moue cause of meriment:
Matter of merth enough, though there were none
She could deuife, and thousand waies inuent,
To feede her foolish humour, and vaine iolliment.
Which when far of Cymochles heard, and saw,
He lowdly cald to such, as were abord,
The little barke vnto the shore to draw,
And him to ferry ouer that deepe ford:
The merry mariner vnto his word
Soone hearkned, and her painted bote streightway
Turnd to the shore, where that same warlike Lord
She in receiu'd; but Atin by no way
She would admit, albe the knight her much did pray.
Eftsoones her shallow ship away did slide,
More swift, then [...] sheres the liquid skye,
Withouten oare or Pilot it to guide,
Or winged canuas with the wind to fly,
Onely she turnd a pin, and by and by
It cut away vpon the yielding waue,
Ne cared she her course for to apply:
For it was taught the way, which she would haue,
And both from rocks and flats it selfe could wisely saue.
And all the way, the wanton Damsell found
New merth, her passenger to entertaine:
For she in pleasaunt purpose did abound,
And greatly ioyed merry tales to faine,
Of which a store-house did with her remaine,
Yet seemed, nothing well they her became;
For all her wordes she drownd with laughter vaine,
And wanted grace in vtt'ring of the same,
That turned all her pleasaunce to ascoffing game.
And other whiles vaine toyes she would deuize,
As her fantasticke wit did most delight,
Sometimes her head she fondly would aguize
With gaudy girlonds, or fresh flowrets dight
About her necke, or rings of rushes plight;
Sometimes to do him laugh, she would assay
To laugh at shaking off the leaues light,
Or to behold the water worke, and play
About her little frigot, therein making way.
Her light behauiour, and loose dalliaunce
Gaue wondrous great contentment to the knight,
That of his way he had no souenaunce,
Nor care of vow'd reuenge, and cruell fight,
[Page 259]But to weake wench did yield his martiall might.
So easie was to quench his flamed minde
With one sweete drop of sensuall delight.
So easie is, t'appease the stormy winde
Of malice in the calme of pleasaunt womankind.
Diuerse discourses in their way they spent,
Mongst which Cymochles of her questioned,
Both what she was, and what that vsage ment,
Which in her cott she daily practized.
Vaine man (saide she) that wouldest be reckoned
A straunger in thy home, and ignoraunt
Of Phaedria (for so my name is red)
Of Phaedria, thine owne fellow seruaunt;
For thou to serue Acrasia thy selfe doest vaunt.
In this wide Inland sea, that hight by name
The Idle lake, my wandring ship I row,
That knowes her port, and thether sayles by ayme,
Ne care, ne feare I, how the wind do blow,
Or whether swift I wend, or whether slow:
Both slow and swift a like do serue my tourne,
Ne swelling Neptune, ne lowd thundring Ioue
Can chaunge my cheare, or make me euer mourne;
My little boat can safely passe this perilous bourne.
Whiles thus she talked, and whiles thus she toyd,
They were far past the passage, which he spake,
And come vnto an Island, waste and voyd,
That floted in the midst of that great lake,
There her small Gondelay her port did make,
And that gay payre issewing on the shore
Disburdned her. Their way they forward take
Into the land, that lay them faire before,
Whose pleasaunce she him shewd, and plentifull great store.
It was a chosen plott of fertile land,
Emongst wide waues sett, like a litle nest,
As if it had by Natures cunning hand,
Bene choycely picked out from all the rest,
And laid forth for ensample of the best:
No dainty flowre or herbe, that growes on grownd,
No arborett with painted blossomes drest,
And smelling sweete, but there it might be fownd
To bud out faire, & throwe her sweete smels al arownd.
No tree, whose braunches did not brauely spring;
No braunch, whereon a fine bird did not sitt:
No bird, but did her shrill notes sweetely sing;
No song but did containe a louely ditt:
Trees, braunches, birds, and songs were framed fitt,
For to allure fraile mind to carelesse ease.
Carelesse the man soone woxe, and his weake witt
Was ouercome of thing, that did him please;
So pleased, did his wrathfull purpose faire appease.
Thus when shee had his eyes and sences fed
With false delights, and fild with pleasures vayn,
Into a shady dale she soft him led,
And laid him downe vpon a grassy playn;
And her sweete selfe without dread, or disdayn,
She sett beside, laying his head disarmd
In her loose lap, it softly to sustayn,
Where soone he slumbred fearing not be harmd,
The whils with a loue lay she thus him sweetly charmd.
Behold, O man, that toilesome paines doest take
The flowrs, the fields, and all that pleasaunt growes,
How they them selues doe thine ensample make,
Whiles nothing enuious nature them forth throwes
[Page 261]Out of her fruitfull lap; how noman knowes,
They spring, they bud, they blossome fresh and faire,
And decke the world with their rich pōpous showes;
Yet no man for them taketh paines or care,
Yet no man to them can his carefull paines compare.
The lilly, Lady of the flowring field,
The flowre deluce, her louely Paramoure,
Bid thee to them thy fruitlesse labors yield,
And soone leaue off this toylsome weary stoure;
Loe loe how braue she decks her bounteous boure,
With silkin curtens and gold couerletts,
Therein to shrowd her sumptuous Belamoure,
Yet nether spinnes nor cards, ne cares nor fretts,
But to her mother Nature all her care she letts.
Why then doest thou, O man, that of them all
Art Lord, and eke of nature Soueraine,
Wilfully make thy selfe a wretched thrall,
And waste thy ioyous howres in needelesse paine,
Seeking for daunger and aduentures vaine?
What bootes it al to haue, and nothing vse?
Who shall him rew, that swimming in the maine,
Will die for thrist, and water doth refuse?
Refuse such fruitlesse toile, and present pleasures chuse.
By this she had him lulled fast a sleepe,
That of no wordly thing he care did take;
Then she with liquors strong his eies did steepe,
That nothing should him hastily awake:
So she him lefte, and did her selfe betake
Vnto her boat again, with which she clefte
The slouthfull waue of that great griesy lake;
Soone shee that Island far behind her lefte,
And now is come to that same place, where first she wefte.
By this time was the worthy Guyon brought
Vnto the other side of that wide strond,
Where she was rowing, and for passage sought:
Him needed not long call, shee soone to hond
Her ferry brought, where him she byding fond,
With his sad guide; him selfe she tooke a boord,
But the Blacke Palmer suffred still to stond,
Ne would for price, or prayers once affoord,
To ferry that old man ouer the perlous foord.
Guyon was loath to leaue his guide behind,
Yet being entred, might not backe retyre;
For the flitt barke, obaying to her mind,
Forth launched quickly, as she did desire,
Ne gaue him leaue to bid that aged sire
Adieu, but nimbly ran her wonted course
Through the dull billowes thicke as troubled mire,
Whom nether wind out of their seat could forse,
Nor timely tides did driue out of their sluggish sourse.
And by the way, as was her wonted guize,
Her mery fitt shee freshly gan to reare,
And did of ioy and iollity deuize,
Her selfe to cherish, and her guest to cheare:
The knight was courteous, and did not forbeare
Her honest merth and pleasaunce to partake;
But when he saw her toy, and gibe, and geare,
And passe the bonds of modest merimake,
Her dalliaunce he despisd, and follies did forsake.
Yet she still followed her former style,
And said, and did all [...] him delight,
Till they arriued in that pleasaunt Ile,
Where sleeping late she lefte her other knight.
[Page 263]But whenas Guyon of that land had fight,
He wist him selfe amisse, and angry said;
Ah Dame, perdy ye haue not doen me right,
Thus to mislead mee, whiles I you obaid:
Me litle needed from my right way to haue straid.
Faire Sir (qd. she) be not displeasd at all;
Who fares on sea, may not commaund his way,
Ne wind and weather at his pleasure call:
The sea is wide, and easy for to stray;
The wind vnstable, and doth neuer stay.
But here a while ye may in safety rest,
Till season serue new passage to assay;
Better safe port, then be in seas distrest.
Therewith she laught, and did her earnest end in iest.
But he halfe discontent, [...] nathelesse
Himselfe appease, and issewd forth on shore:
The ioyes whereof, and happy fuitfulnesse,
Such as he saw, she gan him lay before,
And all though pleasaunt, yet she made much more:
The fields did laugh, the flowres did freshly spring,
The trees did bud, and early blossomes bore,
And all the quire of birds did sweetly sing,
And told that gardins pleasures in their caroling.
And she more sweete, then any bird on bough,
Would oftentimes emongst them beare a part,
And striue to passe (as she could well enough)
Their natiue musicke by her skilful art:
So did she all, that might his constant hart
Withdraw from thought of warlike enterprize,
And drowne in dissolute delights apart,
Where noise of armes, or vew of martiall guize
Might not reuiue desire of knightly exercize.
But he was wise, and wary of her will,
And euer held his hand vpon his hart:
Yet would not seeme so rude, and thewed ill,
As to despise so curteous seeming part,
That gentle Lady did to him impart,
But fairly tempring fond desire subdewd,
And euer her desired to depart.
She list not heare, but her disports poursewd,
And euer bad him stay, till time the tide renewd.
And now by this, Cymochles howre was spent,
That he awoke out of his ydle dreme,
And shaking off his drowsy dreriment,
Gan him auize, howe ill did him beseme,
In slouthfull sleepe his molten hart to steme,
And quench the brond of his conceiued yre.
Tho vp he started, stird with shame extreme,
Ne staied for his Damsell to inquire,
But marched to the Strond, their passage to require.
And in the way he with Sir Guyon mett,
Accompanyde with Phaedria the faire,
Eftsoones he gan to rage, and inly frett,
Crying, Let be that Lady debonaire,
Thou recreaunt knight, and soone thy selfe prepaire
To batteile, if thou meane her loue to gayn:
Loe, loe already, how the fowles in aire
Doe flocke, awaiting shortly to obtayn
Thy carcas for their pray, the guerdon of thy payn.
And therewith all he fiersly at him flew,
And with importune outrage him assayld;
Who soone prepard to field, his sword forth drew,
And him with equall valew counteruayld:
[Page 265]Their mightie strokes their haberieons dismayld,
And naked made each others manly spalles;
The mortall steele despiteously entayld
Deepe in their flesh, quite through the yron walles,
That a large purple stream adown their giambeux falles.
Cymocles, that had neuer mett before,
So puissant foe, with enuious despight
His prowd presumed force increased more,
Disdeigning to bee held so long in fight;
Sir Guyon grudging not so much his might,
As those vnknightly ray linges, which he spoke,
With wrathfull fire his corage kindled bright,
Thereof deuising shortly to be wroke,
And doubling all his powres, redoubled euery stroke.
Both of them high attonce their hands enhaunst,
And both attonce their huge blowes down did sway;
Cymochles sword on Guyons shield yglaunst,
And there of nigh one quarter sheard away;
But Guyons angry blade so fiers did play
On th'others helmett, which as Titan shone,
That quite it cloue his plumed crest in tway,
And bared all his head vnto the bone;
Wherewith astonisht, still he stood, as sencelesse stone.
Still as he stood, fayre Phaedria, that beheld
That deadly daunger, soone atweene them ran;
And at their feet her selfe most humbly feld,
Crying with pitteous voyce, and count'nance wan;
Ah well away, most noble Lords, how can
Your cruell eyes endure so pitteous sight,
To shed your liues on ground? wo worth the man,
That first did teach the cursed steele to bight
In his owne flesh, and make way to the liuing spright.
If euer loue of Lady did empierce
Your yron brestes, or pittie could find place,
Withhold your bloody handes from battaill fierce,
And sith for me ye fight, to me this grace
Both yield, to stay your deadly stryfe a space.
They stayd a while: and forth she gan proceed:
Most wretched woman, and of wicked race,
That am the authour of this hainous deed,
And cause of death betweene two doughtie knights do breed.
But if for me ye fight, or me will serue,
Not this rude kynd of battaill, nor these armes
Are meet, the which doe men in bale to sterue,
And doolefull sorrow heape with deadly harmes:
Such cruell game my scarmoges disarmes:
Another warre, and other weapons I
Doe loue, where loue does giue his sweet Alarmes,
Without bloodshed, and where the enimy
Does yield vnto his foe a pleasaunt victory.
Debatefull strife, and cruell enmity
The famous name of knighthood fowly shend;
But louely peace, and gentle amity,
And in Amours the passing howres to spend,
The mightie martiall handes doe most commend;
Of loue they euer greater glory bore,
Then of their armes: Mars is Cupidoes frend,
And is for Venus loues renowmed more,
Then all his wars and spoiles, the which he did of yore.
Therewith she sweetly smyld. They though full bent,
To proue extremities of bloody fight,
Yet at her speach their rages gan relent,
And calme the sea of their tempestuous spight,
[Page 267]Such powre haue pleasing wordes: such is the might
Of courteous clemency in gentle hart.
Now after all was ceast, the Faery knight
Besòught that Damzell suffer him depart,
And yield him ready passage to that other part.
She no lesse glad, then he desirous was
Of his departure thence; for of her ioy
And vaine delight she saw he light did pas,
A foe of folly and immodest toy,
Still solemne sad, or still disdainfull coy,
Delighting all in armes and cruell warre,
That her sweet peace and pleasures did annoy,
Troubled with terrour and vnquiet iarre,
That she well pleased was thence [...] amoue him farre.
Tho him she brought abord, and her swift bote
Forthwith directed to that further strand;
The which on the dull waues did lightly flote
And soone arriued on the shallow sand,
Where gladsome Guyon salied forth to land,
And to that Damsell thankes gaue for reward.
Vpon that shore he spyed Atin stand,
Thereby his maister left, when late he far'd
In Phaedrias flitt barck ouer that perlous shard.
Well could he him remember, sith of late
He with [...] sharp debatement made;
Streight gan he him reuyle, and bitter rate,
As Shepheards curre, that in darke eueninges shade
Hath tracted forth some saluage beastes trade;
Vile Miscreaunt (said he) whether dost thou flye
The shame and death, which will thee soone inuade?
What coward hand shall doe thee next to dye,
That art thus fowly fledd from famous enimy?
With that he stifly shooke his steelhead dart:
But sober Guyon, hearing him so rayle,
Though somewhat moued in his mightie hart,
Yet with strong reason maistred passion fraile,
And passed fayrely forth. He turning taile,
Backe to the strond retyrd, and there still stayd,
Awaiting passage, which him late did faile;
The whiles Cymochles with that wanton mayd
The hasty heat of his auowd reuenge delayd
Whylest there the varlet stood, he saw from farre
An armed knight, that towardes him fast ran,
He ran on foot, as if in lucklesse warre
His forlorne steed from him the victour wan;
He seemed breathlesse, hartlesse, faint, and wan,
And all his armour sprinckled was with blood,
And soyld with durtie gore, that no man can
Discerne the hew thereof. He neuer stood,
But bent his hastie course towardes the ydle flood.
The varlett saw, when to the flood he came,
How without stop or stay he fiersly lept,
And deepe him selfe beducked in the same,
That in the lake his loftie crest was stept,
Ne of his safetie seemed care he kept,
But with his raging armes he rudely flasht,
The waues about, and all his armour swept,
That all the blood and filth away was washt,
Yet still he bet the water, and the billowes dasht.
Atin drew nigh, to weet, what it mote bee;
For much he wondred at that vncouth sight;
Whom should he, but his own deare Lord, [...],
His owne deare Lord Pyrrhochles, in sad plight,
[Page 269]Ready to drowne him selfe for fell despight.
Harrow now out, and well away, he cryde,
What dismall day hath lent but this his cursed light,
To see my Lord so deadly damnifyde
Pyrrhochles, O Pyrrhochles, what is thee betyde?
I burne, I burne, I burne, then lowd he cryde,
O how I burne with implacable fyre,
Yet nought can quench mine inly flaming syde,
Nor sea of licour cold, nor lake of myre,
Nothing but death can doe me to respyre.
Ah be it (said he) from Pyrrhochles farre
After pursewing death once to requyre,
Or think, that ought those puissant hands may marre
Death is for wretches borne vnder vnhappy starre.
Perdye, then is it fitt for me (said he)
That am, I weene, most wretched man aliue,
Burning in flames, yet no flames can I see,
And dying dayly, dayly yet reuiue:
O Atin, helpe to me last death to giue.
The varlet at his plaint was grieued so sore,
That his deepe wounded hart in two did riue,
And his owne health remembring now no more,
Did follow that ensample, which he blam'd afore.
Into the lake he lept, his Lord to ayd,
(So Loue the dread of daunger doth despise)
And of him catching hold him strongly stayd
From drowning. But more happy he, then wise
Of that seas nature did him not auise.
The waues thereof so slow and sluggish were,
Engrost with mud, which did them fowle agrise,
That euery weighty thing they did vpbeare,
Ne ought mote euer sinck downe to the bottom there.
Whiles thus they strugled in that ydle waue,
And stroue in vaine, the one him selfe to drowne,
The other both from drowning for to saue,
Lo, to that shore one in an auncient gowne,
Whose hoary locks great grauitie did crowne,
Holding in hand a goodly arming sword,
By fortune came, ledd with the troublous sowne:
Where drenched deepe he fownd in that dull ford
The carefull seruaunt, stryuing with his raging Lord.
Him Atin spying, knew right well of yore,
And lowdly cald, Help helpe, O Archimage,
To saue my Lord, in wretched plight forlore;
Helpe with thy hand, or with thy counsell sage:
Weake handes, but counsell is most strong in age.
Him when the old man, saw he woundred sore,
To see Pyrrhochles there so rudely rage:
Yet sithens helpe, he saw, he needed more
Then pitty, he in hast approched to the shore.
And cald, Pyrrhochles, what is this, I see?
What hellish fury hath at earst thee hent?
Furious euer I thee knew to bee,
Yet neuer in this straunge astonishment.
These flames, these flames (he cryde) do me torment.
What flames (qd. he) when I thee present see,
In daunger rather to be drent, then brent?
Harrow, the flames, which me consume (said hee)
Ne can be quencht, within my secret bowelles bee.
That cursed man, that cruel feend of hell,
Furor, oh Furor hath me thus bedight:
His deadly woundes within my liuers swell,
And his whott fyre burnes in mine entralles bright,
[Page 271]Kindled through his infernall brond of spight,
Sith late with him I batteill vaine would boste,
That now I weene Ioues dreaded thunder light
Does scorch not halfe so sore, nor damned ghoste
In flaming Phlegeton does not so felly roste.
Which when as Archimago heard, his griefe
He knew right well, and him attonce disarmd:
Then searcht his secret woundes, and made a priefe
Of euery place, that was with bruzing harmd,
Or with the hidden fier inly warmd.
Which doen, he balmes and herbes thereto applyde,
And euermore with mightie spels them charmd,
That in short space he has them qualifyde,
And him restor'd to helth, that would haue algates dyde.
Cant. VII.
Guyon findes Mamon in a delue,
sunning his threasure hore:
Is by him tempted, & led downe,
To see his secrete store.
AS Pilot well expert in perilous waue,
That to a stedfast starre his course hath bent,
When foggy mistes, or cloudy tempests haue
The faithfull light of that faire lampe yblent,
And couer'd heauen with hideous dreriment,
Vpon his card and compas firmes his eye,
The maysters of his long experiment,
And to them does the steddy helme apply,
Bidding his winged vessell fairely forward fly.
So Guyon hauing lost his trustie guyde,
Late left beyond that Ydle lake, proceedes
Yet on his way, of none accompanyde;
And euermore himselfe with comfort feedes,
Of his owne vertues, and praise-worthie deedes.
So long he yode, yet no aduenture found,
Which fame of her shrill trompet worthy reedes:
For still he traueild through wide wastfull ground,
That nought but desert wildernesse shewed all around.
At last he came vnto a gloomy glade,
Couer'd with boughes & shrubs from heauens light,
Whereas he sitting found in secret shade
An vncouth, saluage, and vnciuile wight,
Of griesly hew, and fowle ill fauour'd sight;
His face with smoke was tand & eies were bleard
His head and beard with sout were ill bedight,
His cole-blacke hands did seeme to haue ben seard
In smythes fire-spitting forge, and nayles like clawes appeard.
His yron cote all ouergrowne with rust,
Was vnderneath enueloped with gold,
Whose glistring glosse darkned with filthy dust,
Well yet appeared, to haue beene of old
A worke of rich entayle, and curious mould,
Wouen with antickes and wyld ymagery:
And in his lap a masse of coyne he told,
And turned vpside downe, to feede his eye
And couetous desire with his huge threasury.
And round about him lay on euery side
Great heapes of gold, that neuer could be spent:
Of which some were rude owre, not purifide
Of Malcibers deuouring element;
[Page 273]Some others were new driuen, and distent
Into great Ingowes, and to wedges square;
Some in round plates withouten moniment:
But most were stampt, and in their metal bare
The antique shapes of kings and [...] straung & rare.
Soone as he Guyon saw, in great affright
And haste he rose, for to remoue aside
Those pretious hils from straungers enuious sight,
And downe them poured through an hole full wide,
Into the hollow earth, them there to hide.
But Guyon lightly to him leaping, stayd
His hand, that trembled, as one terrifyde;
And though him selfe were at the sight dismayd,
Yet him perforce restraynd, and to him doubtfull sayd.
What art thou man, (if man at all thou art)
That here in desert hast thine habitaunce,
And these rich hils of welth doest hide apart
From the worldes eye, and from her right vsaunce?
Thereat with staring eyes fixed askaunce,
In great disdaine, he answerd, Hardy Elfe,
That darest vew my direfull countenaunce,
I read thee rash, and heedlesse of thy selfe,
To trouble my still seate, and heapes of pretious pelfe.
God of the world and worldlings I me call,
Great Mammon, greatest god below the skye,
That of my plenty poure out vnto all,
And vnto none my graces do enuye:
Riches, renowme, and principality,
Honour, estate, and all this worldes good,
For which men swinck and sweat incessantly,
Fro me do flow into an ample flood,
And in the hollow earth haue their eternall brood.
Wherefore if me thou deigne to serue and [...],
At thy commaund lo all these mountaines bee;
Or if to thy great mind, or greedy vew
All these may not suffise, there shall to thee
Ten times so much be nombred francke and free.
Mammon (said he) thy godheads vaunt is vaine,
And idle offers of thy golden fee;
To them, that couet such eye-glutting gaine,
Proffer thy giftes, and fitter seruaunts entertaine.
Me ill besits, that in derdoing armes,
And honours suit my vowed daies do spend,
Vnto thy bounteous baytes, and pleasing charmes,
With which weake men thou witchest, to attend:
Regard of worldly mucke doth fowly blend,
And low abase the high heroicke spright,
That ioyes for crownes and kingdomes to contend;
Faire shields, gay steedes, bright armes be my delight:
Those be the riches fit for an aduent'rous knight.
Vaine glorious Elfe (saide he) doest not thou weet,
That money can thy wantes at will supply?
Sheilds, steeds, and armes, and all things for thee meet
It can purvay in twinckling of an eye;
And crownes and kingdomes to thee multiply.
Doe not I kings create, and throw the crowne
Sometimes to him, that low in dust doth ly?
And him that raignd, into his rowme thrust downe,
And whom I lust, do heape with glory and renowne?
All otherwise (saide he) I riches read,
And deeme them roote of all disquietnesse;
First got with guile, and then preseru'd with dread,
And after spent with pride and lauishnesse,
[Page 275]Leauing behind them griefe and heauinesse.
Infinite mischiefes of them doe arize,
Strife, and debate, bloodshed, and bitternesse,
Outrageous wrong, and hellish couetize,
That noble heart in great dishonour doth despize.
Ne thine be kingdomes, ne the scepters thine;
But realmes and rulers thou doest both confound,
And loyall truth to treason doest incline;
Witnesse the guiltlesse blood pourd oft on ground,
The crowned often slaine, the slayer cround,
The sacred Diademe in peeces rent,
And purple robe gored with many a wound;
Castles surprizd, great citties sackt and brent:
So mak'st thou kings, & gaynest wrongfull gouernmēt.
Long were to tell the troublous stormes, that tosse
The priuate state, and make the life vnsweet:
Who swelling sayles in Caspian sea doth crosse,
And in frayle wood on Adrian gulf doth fleet,
Doth not, I weene, so many euils meet.
Then Mammon wexing wroth, And why then, sayd,
Are mortall men so fond and vndiscreet,
So euill thing to seeke vnto their ayd,
And hauing not complaine, and hauing it vpbrayd?
Indeede (quoth he) through fowle intemperaunce,
Frayle men are oft captiu'd to couetise:
But would they thinke, with how small allowaunce
Vntroubled Nature doth her selfe suffise,
Such superfluities they would despise,
Which with sad cares empeach our natiue ioyes:
At the well head the purest streames arise:
But mucky filth his braunching armes annoyes,
And with vncomely weedes the gentle waue accloyes.
The antique world, in his first flowring youth,
Fownd no defect in his Creators grace,
But with glad thankes, [...] vnreproued truth,
The guifts of soueraine bounty did embrace:
Like Angels life was then mens happy cace;
But later ages pride, like corn-fed steed,
Abusd her plenty, and fat swolne encreace
To all licentious lust, and gan exceed
The measure of her meane, and naturall first need.
Then gan a cursed hand the quiet wombe
Of his great Grandmother with steele to wound,
And the hid treasures in her sacred tombe,
With Sacriledge to dig. Therein he fownd
Fountaines of gold and siluer to abownd,
Of which the matter of his huge desire
And pompous pride estsoones he did compownd;
Then auarice gan through his veines [...]
His greedy flames, and kindled life-deuouring fire.
Sonne (said he then) lett be thy bitter scorne,
And leaue the rudenesse of that antique age
To them, that liu'd therin in state forlorne;
Thou that doest liue in later times, must wage
Thy workes for wealth, and life for gold engage.
If then thee list my offred grace to vse,
Take what thou please of all this surplusage;
If thee list not, leaue haue thou to refuse:
But thing refused, doe not afterward accuse.
Me list not (said the Elfin knight) receaue
Thing offred, till I know it well be gott,
Ne wote I, but thou didst these goods bereaue
From rightfull owner by vnrighteous lott,
[Page 277]Or that bloodguiltnesse or guile them blott.
Perdy (qd. he) yet neuer eie did vew,
Ne tong did tell, ne hand these handled not,
But safe I haue them kept in secret mew,
From heuens sight, and powre of al which thē poursew.
What secret place (qd. he) can [...] hold
So huge a masse, and hide from heauens eie?
Or where hast thou thy wonne, that somuch gold
Thou canst preserue from wrong and robbery?
Come thou (qd. he.) and see. So by and by.
Through that thick couert he him led, and fownd
A darkesome way, which no man could descry,
That deep descended through the hollow grownd,
And was with dread and horror compassed arownd.
At length they came into a larger space,
That stretcht it selfe into an ample playne,
Through which a beaten broad high way did trace,
That streight did lead to Plutoes griesly rayne:
By that wayes side, there sate internall Payne,
And fast beside him sat tumultuous Strife:
The one in hand an yron whip did strayne,
The other [...] a bloody knife,
And both did gnash their teeth, & both did threten life.
On thother side in one consort there sate,
Cruell Reuenge, and rancorous Despight,
Disloyall Treason, and hart-burning Hate,
But gnawing Gealosy out of their sight
Sitting alone, his bitter lips did bight,
And trembling Feare still to and fro did fly,
And found no place, wher safe he shroud him might,
Lamenting Sorrow did in darknes lye.
And shame his vgly face did hide from liuing eye.
And ouer them sad horror with grim hew,
Did alwaies sore, beating his yron wings;
And after him Owles and Night-rauens flew,
The hatefull messengers of heauy things,
Of death and dolor telling sad tidings;
Whiles sad Celeno, sitting on a clifte,
A song of bale and bitter sorrow sings,
That hart of flint a sonder could haue rifte:
Which hauing ended, after him she flyeth swifte.
All these before the gates of Pluto lay,
By whom they passing, spake vnto them nought.
But th'Elfin knight with wonder all the way
Did feed his eyes, and fild his inner thought.
At last him to a litle dore he brought,
That to the gate of Hell, which gaped wide,
Was next adioyning, ne them [...] nought:
Betwtxt them both was but a litle stride,
That did the house of Richesse from hellmouth diuide.
Before the dore sat selfe-consuming Care,
Day and night keeping wary watch and ward,
For feare least Force or Fraud should vnaware
Breake in, and spoile the treasure there in gard:
Ne would he suffer Sleepe once thether-ward
Approch, albe his drowsy den were next;
For next to death is Sleepe to be compard:
Therefore his house is vnto his annext;
Here Sleep, ther Richesse, & Helgate thē both betwext.
So soone as Mammon there arriud, the dore
To him did open, and affoorded way;
Him followed eke Sir Guy on euermore,
Ne darkenesse him, ne daunger might dismay.
[Page 279]Soone as he entred was, the dore streight way
Did shutt, and from behind it forth there lept
An vgly feend, more fowle then dismall day,
The which with monstrous stalke behind him stept,
And euer as he went, dew watch vpon him kept.
Well hoped hee, ere long that hardy guest,
If euer couetous hand, or lustfull eye,
Or lips he layd on thing, that likte him best,
Or euer sleepe his eiestrings did vntye,
Should be his pray. And therefore still on hye
He ouer him did hold his cruell clawes,
Threatning with greedy gripe to doe him [...]
And rend in peeces with his rauenous pawes,
If euer he transgrest the fatall Stygian lawes.
That houses forme within was rude and strong,
Lyke an huge caue, hewne out of rocky clifte,
From whose rough vaut the ragged breaches hong,
Embost with massy gold of glorious guifte,
And with rich metall loaded euery rifte,
That heauy ruine they did seeme to threatt;
And ouer them Arachne high did lifte
Her cunning web, and spred her subtile nett,
Enwrapped in fowle smoke and clouds more black then Iett.
Both roofe, and floore, and walls were all of gold,
But ouergrowne with dust and old decay,
And hid in darkenes, that none could behold
The hew thereof: for vew of cherefull day
Did neuer in that house it selfe display,
But a faint shadow of vncertein light;
Such as a lamp, whose life does fade away:
Or as the Moone cloathed with clowdy night,
Does shew to him, that walkes in feare and sad affright.
In all that rowme was nothing to be seene,
But huge great yron chests and coffers strong,
All bard with double bends, that none could weene
Them to efforce by violence or wrong:
On euery side they placed were along.
But all the grownd with sculs was scattered,
And dead mens bones, which round about were flōg,
Whose liues, it seemed, whilome there were shed,
And their vile carcases now leftvnburied.
They forward passe, ne Guyon yet spoke word,
Till that they came vnto an yron dore,
Which to them opened of his owne accord,
And shewd of richesse such exceeding store,
As eie of man did neuer see before,
Ne euer could within one place be fownd,
Though all the wealth, which is, or was of yore,
Could gathered be through all the world arownd,
And that aboue were added to that vnder grownd.
The charge thereof vnto a couetous Spright
Commaunded was, who thereby did attend,
And warily awaited day and night,
From other couetous feends it to defend,
Who it to rob and ransacke did intend.
Then Hammon turning to that warriour, said;
Loe here the worldes blis, loe here the end,
To which al men doe ayme, rich to be made:
Such grace now to be happy, is before thee laid.
Certes (sayd he) I n'ill thine offred grace,
Ne to be made so happy doe intend:
Another blis before mine eyes I place,
Another happines, another end.
[Page 281]To them, that list, these base regardes I lend:
But I in armes, and in atchieuements braue,
Do rather choose my flitting houres to spend,
And to be Lord of those, that riches haue,
Then them to haue my selfe, and be their seruile sclaue.
Thereat the feend his gnashing teeth did grate,
And grieu'd, so long to lacke his greedie pray;
For well he weened, that so glorious bayte
Would tempt his guest, to take thereof assay:
Had he so doen, he had him snatcht away,
More light then Culuer in the Faulcons fist.
Eternall God thee saue from such decay.
But when as Mammon saw his purpose mist,
Him to entrap vnwares another way he wist.
Thence forward he him ledd, and shortly brought
Vnto another rowme, whose dore forthright,
To him did open, as it had beene taught:
Therein an hundred raunges weren pight,
And hundred fournaces all burning bright;
By euery fournace many feendes did byde,
Deformed creatures, horrible in sight,
And euery feend his busie paines applyde.
To melt the golden metall, ready to be tryde.
One with great bellowes gathered filling ayre,
And with forst wind the fewell did inflame;
Another did the dying bronds repayre
With dying tongs, and sprinckled ofte the same
With liquid waues, fiers Vulcans rage to tame,
Who maystring them, renewd his former heat;
Some scumd the drosse, that from the metall came.
Some stird the molten owre with ladles great;
And euery one did swincke, and euery one did sweat.
But when an earthly wight they present saw,
Glistring in armes and battailous aray,
From their whot work they did themselues withdraw
To wonder at the sight: for till that day,
They neuer creature saw, that cam that way.
Their staring eyes sparckling with feruent fyre,
And vgly shapes did nigh the man dismay,
That were it not for shame, he would retyre,
Till that him thus bespake their soueraine Lord & syre.
Behold, thou Faeries sonne, with mortall eye,
That liuing eye before did neuer see:
The thing, that thou didst craue so earnestly,
To weet, whence all the wealth late shewd by mee,
Proceeded, lo now is reueald to thee.
Here is the fountaine of the worldes good:
Now therefore, if thou wilt enriched bee,
Auise thee well, and chaunge thy wilfull mood,
Least thou perhaps hereafter wish, and be withstood.
Suffise it then, thou Money God (qd. hee)
That all thine ydle offers I refuse.
All that I need I haue; what needeth mee
To couet more, then I haue cause to vse?
With such vaine shewes thy worldlinges vyle abuse:
But giue me leaue to follow mine emprise.
Mammon was much displeasd, yet no'te he chuse,
But beare the rigour of his bold mesprise,
And thence him forward ledd, him further to entise.
He brought him through a darksom narrow strayt,
To a broad gate, all built of beaten gold:
The gate was open, but therein did wayt
A fturdie villein, stryding stiffe and bold,
[Page 283]As if the highest God defy he would;
In his right hand an yron club he held,
And he himselfe was all of yron mould,
Yet had both life and sence, and well could weld
That cursed weapon, when his cruell foes he queld.
Disdayne he called was, and did disdayne
To be so cald, and who so did him call:
Sterne was his looke, and full of stomacke vayne,
His portaunce terrible, and stature tall,
Far passing th'hight of men terrestriall;
Like an huge Gyant of the Titans race,
That made him scorne all creatures great and small,
And with his pride all others powre deface:
More fitt emongst black fiendes, then men to haue his place.
Soone as those glitterand armes he did espye,
That with their brightnesse made that darknes light,
His harmefull club he gan to hurtle hye,
And threaten batteill to the Faery knight;
Who likewise gan himselfe to batteill dight,
Till Mammon did his hasty hand with hold,
And counseld him abstaine from perilous fight:
For nothing might abash the villein bold,
Ne mortall steele emperce his miscreated mould.
So hauing him with reason pacifyde,
And the fiers Carle commaunding to forbeare,
He brought him in. The rowme was large and wyde,
As it some Gyeld or solemne Temple weare:
Many great golden pillours did vpbeare
The massy roofe, and riches huge sustayne,
And euery pillour decked was full deare
With crownes and Diademes, & titles vaine,
Which mortall Princes wore, whiles they on earth did [...].
A route of people there assembled were,
Of euery sort and nation vnder skye,
Which with great vprore preaced to draw nere
To th'vpper part, where was aduaunced hye
A stately siege of soueraine maiestye,
And thereon satt a woman gorgeous gay,
And richly cladd in robes of royaltye,
That neuer earthly Prince in such aray
His glory did enhaunce and pompous pryde display.
Her face right wondrous faire did seeme to bee,
That her broad beauties beam great brightnes threw
Through the dim shade, that all men might it see:
Yet was not that same her owne natiue hew,
But wrought by art and counterfetted shew,
Thereby more louers vnto her to call;
Nath'lesse most heuenly faire in deed and vew
She by creation was, till she did fall,
Thēceforth she sought for helps to [...] crimewithall.
There as in glistring glory she did sitt,
She held a great gold chaine ylincked well,
Whose vpper end to highest heuen was knitt,
And lower part did reach to lowest Hell,
And all that preace did rownd about her swell,
To catchen hold of that long chaine, thereby
To climbe aloft, and others to excell:
That was Ambition, rash desire to sty,
And euery linck thereof a step of dignity.
Some thought to raise themselues to high degree,
By riches and vnrighteous reward,
Some by close shouldring, some by flatteree;
Others through friendes, others for base regard;
[Page 285]And all by wrong waies for themselues prepard.
Those that were vp themselues, kept others low,
Those that were low themselues held others hard,
Ne suffred them to ryse or greater grow,
But euery one did [...] his fellow downe to throw.
Which whenas Guyon saw, he gan inquire,
What meant that preace about that Ladies [...],
And what she was that did so high aspyre,
Him Mammon answered, That goodly one,
Whom all that folke with such contention,
Doeflock about, my deare my daughter is,
Honour and dignitie from her alone,
Deriued are, and all this worldes blis
For which ye men doe striue: few gett, but many mis.
And fayre Philotime she rightly hight,
The fairest wight that wonneth vnder skye,
But that this darksom neather world her light
Doth dim with horror and deformity,
Worthie of heuen and hye felicitie,
From whence the gods haue her for enuy thrust:
But sith thou hast found fauour in mine eye,
Thy spouse I will her make, if that thou lust,
That she may thee aduance for works and merits iust.
Gramercy Mammom (said the gentle knight)
For so great grace and offred high estate,
But I, that am fraile flesh and earthly wight,
Vnworthy match for such immortall mate,
My selfe well wote, and mine vnequall fate,
And were I not, yet is my trouth yplight,
And loue [...] to other Lady late,
That to remoue the same I haue no might:
To [...] loue causelesse is reproch to warlike knight
[...] emmoued was with inward wrath;
Yet forcing it to fayne, him forth thence ledd
Through griesly shadowes by a beaten path,
Into a gardin goodly garnished
With hearbs & fruits, whose kinds mote not be redd.
Not such, as earth out of her fruitfull woomb
Throwes forth to men sweet and well savored,
But direfull deadly black both leafe and bloom,
Fitt to adorne the dead and deck the drery toombe.
There mournfull Cypresse grew in greatest store,
And trees of bitter Gall, and Heben sad,
Dead sleeping Poppy, and black Hellebore,
Cold Coloquintida, and Tetra mad,
Mortall Samnitis, and Cicuta bad,
Which with th'vniust Atheniens made to dy
Wise Socrates, who thereof quaffing glad
Pourd out his life, and last Philosophy
To the fayre Critias his dearest Belamy.
The Gardin of Proserpina this hight;
And in the midst thereof a siluer seat,
With a thick Arber goodly ouerdight,
In which she often vsd from open heat
Her selfe to shroud, and pleasures to entreat.
Next thereunto did grow a goodly tree,
With braunches broad dispredd and body great,
Clothed with leaues, that none the wood mote see
And loaden all with fruit as thick as it might bee.
Their fruit were golden apples glistring bright,
That goodly was their glory to behold,
On earth like neuer grew, ne liuing wight
Like euer saw, but they from hence were sold;
[Page 287]For those, which Hercules with conquest bold
Got from great Atlas daughters, hence began,
And planted there, did bring forth fruit of gold
And those, with which the Eubaean young man wan
Swift Atalanta, when through craft he her out ran.
Here also sprong that goodly golden fruit,
With which Acontius got his louer trew,
Whom he had long time sought with fruitlesse suit:
Here eke that famous golden Apple grew,
The which emongest the Gods false Ate threw:
For which th'Idaean Ladies disagreed,
Till partiall Paris dempt it Venus dew,
And had of her, fayre Helen for his meed,
That many noble Greekes and Troians made to bleed.
The warlike Elfe, much wondred at this tree,
So fayre and great, that shadowed all the ground,
And his broad braunches, laden with rich fee,
Did stretch themselues without the vtmost bound
Of this great gardin, compast with a mound,
Which ouer-hanging, they themselues did steepe,
In a blacke flood which flow'd about it round,
That is the riuer of Cocytus deepe,
In which full many soules do endlesse wayle and weepe.
Which to behold, he clomb vp to the bancke,
And looking downe, saw many damned wightes,
In those sad waues, which direfull deadly stancke,
Plonged continually of cruell Sprightes,
That with their piteous cryes, and yelling shrightes,
They made the further shore resounden wide:
Emongst the rest of those same ruefull sightes,
One cursed creature, he by chaunce espide,
That drenched lay full deepe, vnder the Garden side.
Deepe was he drenched to the vpmost chin,
Yet gaped still as coueting to drinke,
Of the cold liquour which he waded in,
And stretching forth his hand, did often thinke
To reach the fruit which grew vpon the brincke:
But both the fruit from hand, and flood from mouth
Did fly abacke, and made him vainely swincke:
The whiles he steru'd with hunger, and with drouth
He daily dyde, yet neuer throughly dyen couth.
The knight him seeing labour so in vaine,
Askt who he was, and what he ment thereby:
Who groning deepe, thus answerd him againe;
Most cursed of all creatures vnder skye,
Lo Tantalus, I here tormented lye:
Of whom high Ioue wont whylome feasted bee,
Lo here I now for want of food doe dye:
But if that thou be such, as I thee see,
Of grace I pray thee, giue to eat and drinke to mee.
Nay, nay, thou greedy Tantalus (quoth he)
Abide the fortune of thy present fate,
And vnto all that liue in high degree,
Ensample be of mind more temperate,
To teach them how to vse their present state.
Then gan the cursed wretch alowd to cry,
Accusing highest Ioue and gods ingrate,
And eke blaspheming heauen bitterly,
As authour of vniustice, there to let him dye.
He lookt a litle further, and espyde
Another wretch, whose carcas deepe was drent
Within the riuer, which the same did hyde:
But both his handes most filthy feculent,
[Page 289]Aboue the water were on high extent,
And faynd to wash themselues incessantly,
Yet nothing cleaner were for such intent,
But rather fowler seemed to the eye,
So lost his labour vaine and ydle industry.
The knight him calling, asked who he was,
Who lifting vp his head, him answerd thus:
I Pilate am the falsest Iudge, alas,
And most vniust that by vnrighteous
And wicked doome to Iewes despiteous,
Deliuered vp the Lord of life to dye,
And did acquite a murdrer felonous,
The whiles my handes I washt in purity,
The whiles my soule was soyld with fowle iniquity.
Infinite moe, tormented in like paine
He there beheld, too long here to be told:
Ne Mammon would there let him long remayne,
For terrour of the tortures manifold,
In which the damned soules he did behold,
But roughly him bespake. Thou fearefull foole
Why takest not of that same fruite of gold,
Ne sittest downe on that same siluer stoole,
To rest thy weary person, in the shadow coole.
All which he did, to do him deadly fall,
In frayle intemperaunce through sinfull bayt,
To which if he inclyned had at all,
That dreadfull feend, which did behinde him wayt,
Would him haue rent in thousand peecesstrayt:
But he was wary wise in all his way,
And well perceiued his deceiptfull [...],
Ne [...] lust his safety to betray;
So goodly did beguile the Guyler of his pray.
And now he has so long remained theare,
That vitall powres gan wexe both weake and wan,
For want of food, and sleepe, which two vpbeare,
Like mightie pillours, this frayle life of man,
That none without the same enduren can.
For now three dayes of men were full outwrought,
Since he this hardy enterprize began:
For thy great Mammon fayrely he besought,
Into the world to guyde him backe, as he him brought.
The God, though loth, yet was constraynd t'obay,
For lenger time, then that, no liuing wight
Below the earth, might suffred be to stay:
So backe againe, him brought to liuing light.
But all so soone as his enfeebled spright,
Gan sucke this vitall ayre into his brest,
As ouercome with too exceeding might,
The life did flit away out of her nest,
And all his sences were with deadly fit opprest.
Cant. VIII.
Sir Guyon layd in swowne is by
Acrates sonnes despoyld,
Whom Arthure soone hath reske wed
And Paynim brethren foyld.
ANd is there care in heauen? and is their loue
In heauenly spirits to these creatures bace,
That may compassion of their euilles moue?
There is: else much more wretched were the cace
[Page 291]Of men then beasts. But O th'exceeding grace
Of highest God, that loues his creatures so,
And all his workes with mercy doth embrace,
That blessed Angels, he sends to and fro,
To serue to wicked man, to serue his wicked foe.
How oft do they, their siluer bowers leaue,
To come to succour vs, that succour want,
How oft do they with golden pineons, cleaue
The flitting skyes, like flying Pursuiuant,
Against fowle feendes to ayd vs militant:
They for vs fight, they watch and dewly ward,
And their bright Squadrons round about vs plant,
And all for loue, and nothing for reward:
O why should heuenly God to men haue such regard.
During the while, that Guyon did abide
In Mamons house, the Palmer, whom whyleare
That wanton Mayd of passage had denide,
By further search had passage found elsewhere,
And being on his way, approched neare,
Where Guyon lay in traunce, when suddeinly
He heard a voyce, that called lowd and cleare,
Come hether, come hether, O come hastily;
That all the fields resounded with the ruefull cry.
The Palmer lent his [...] vnto the noyce,
To weet, who called so importunely:
Againe he heard a more efforced voyce,
That bad him come in haste. He by and by
His feeble feet directed to the cry;
Which to that shady delue him brought at last,
Where Mammon earst did sunne his threasury:
There the good Guyon he found slumbring fast
In senceles dreame; which sight at first him sore aghast.
Beside his head there satt a faire young man,
Of wondtous beauty, and of freshest yeares,
Whose tender bud to blossome new began,
And florish faire aboue his equall peares;
His snowv front curled with golden heares,
Like Phoebus face adornd with sunny rayes,
Diuinely shone, and two sharpe winged sheares,
Decked with diuerse plumes, like painted Iayes,
Were fixed at his backe, to cut his ayery wayes.
Like as Cupido on Idaean hill,
When hauing laid his cruell bow away,
And mortall arrowes, wherewith he doth fill
The world with murdrous spoiles and bloody pray,
With his faire mother he him dights to play,
And with his goodly sisters, Graces three;
The Goddesse pleased with his wanton play,
Suffers her selfe through sleepe beguild to bee,
The whiles the other Ladies mind theyr mery [...].
Whom when the Palmer saw, abasht he was
Through fear and wonder, that he nought could say,
Till him the childe bespoke, Long lackt, alas,
Hath bene thy faithfull aide in hard assay,
Whiles deadly fitt thy pupill doth dismay;
Behold this heauy sight, thou reuerend Sire,
But dread of death and dolordoe away;
For life ere long shall to her home retire,
And he that breathlesse seems, shal corage bold respire.
The charge, which God doth vnto me arrett,
Of his deare safety, I to thee commend;
Yet will I not forgoe, ne yet forgett
The care thereof my selfe vnto the end,
[Page 293]But euermore him succour, and defend
Against his foe and mine: watch thou I pray;
For euill is at hand him to offend.
So hauing said, eftsoones he gan display
His painted nimble wings, and [...] quite away.
The Palmer seeing his lefte empty place,
And his slow eies beguiled of their sight,
Woxe sore affraid, and standing still a space,
Gaz'd after him, as fowle escapt by flight;
At last him turning to his charge behight,
With trembling hand his troubled pulse gan try,
Where finding life not yet dislodged quight,
He much reioyst, and courd it tenderly,
As chicken newly hatcht, from dreaded destiny.
At last he spide, where towards him did pace
Two Paynim knights, al armd as bright as skie,
And them beside an aged Sire did trace,
And far before a light-foote Page did flie,
That breathed strife and troublous enmitie;
Those were the two sonnes of Acrates old,
Who meeting [...] with Archimago slie,
Foreby that idle strond, of him were told,
That he, which earst them combatted, was Guyon bold.
Which to auenge on him they [...] vowd,
Where euer that on ground they [...] him find;
False Archimage prouokte their corage prowd,
And stryful Atin in their stubborne mind
Coles of contention and whot [...] tind.
Now benethey come whereas the [...],
Keeping that slombred corse to him assind;
Well knew they both his person, sith of late
With him in bloody armes they rashly did debate.
Whom when Pyrochles saw, inflam'd with rage,
That sire he fowl bespake, Thou dotard vile,
That with thy brutenesse [...] thy comely age,
Abandon soone, I read, the caytiue spoile
Of that same outcast carcas, that ere [...]
Made it felfe famous through false trechery,
And crownd his coward crest with knightly stile;
Loe where he now inglorious doth lye,
To prooue he liued il, that did thus fowly dye.
To whom the Palmer fearlesse answered,
Certes, Sir knight, ye bene too much to blame,
Thus for to blott the honor of the dead,
And with fowle cowar dize his carcas shame,
Whose liuing handes immortalizd his name.
Vile is the vengeaunce on the ashes cold,
And enuy base, to barke at sleeping fame:
Was neuer wight, that treason of him told;
Your self his prowesse proud & found him fiers & bold.
Then sayd Cymochles, Palmer, thou doest dote,
Ne canst of prowesse, ne of knighthood deeme,
Saue as thou seest [...] hearst. But well I wote,
That of his puissaunce try all made extreeme;
Yet gold al is not, that doth golden seeme,
Ne all good knights, that shake well speare & shield:
The worth of all men by their end esteeme,
And then dew praise, or dew reproch them yield;
Bad therefore I him deeme, that thus lies dead on field.
Good or bad, gan his brother fiers reply,
What doe I recke, sith that he dide entire?
Or what doth his bad death now satisfy,
The greedy [...] of reuen ging yre,
Yet since no way is lefte to wreake my spight,
I will him reaue of armes, the victors hire,
And of that shield, more worthy of good knight;
For [...] should a dead dog be [...] in arm [...] bright?
Fayr Sir, said then the Palmer suppliaunt,
For knighthoods loue, doe not so fowle a deed,
Ne blame your honor with so shame full vaunt
Of vile reuenge. To spoile the dead of weed
Is sacrilege, and doth all sinnes exceed;
But leaue these relicks of his liuing might,
To decke his herce, and trap his [...].
What herce or steed (said he) should he haue dight,
But be entombed in the rauen or the [...]
With that rude hand vpon his shield he laid,
And th'other brother gan his [...] vnlace,
Both fiercely [...] to haue him [...] aid;
Till that they spyde, where towards them did pace
An armed knight, of bold and bounteous grace,
Whose squire bore after him an [...] launce,
And couerd shield. Well kond him so [...] space
Th'enchaunter by his armes and [...],
When vnder him he saw his Lybian steed to praunce.
And to those brethren sayd, Rise rise by liue,
And vnto [...] doe yourselues addresse;
For [...] comes the prowest knight aliue,
Prince Arthur, flowre of grace and nobilesse,
That hath to Paynim knights wrought gret distresse.
And thousand [...] donne to dye.
That word so deepe did in their harts impresse,
That both eftsoones [...],
And gan themselues prepare to batteill greedily.
But fiers [...], lacking his owne sword,
The want thereof now greatly gan to plaine,
And Archimage besought, him that afford,
Which he had brought for Braggadochio vaine.
So would I (said th'enchaunter) glad and faine
Beteeme to you this sword, you to defend,
Or ought that els your honor might maintaine,
But that this weapons powre I well haue kend,
To be contrary to the worke, which ye intend.
For that same knights owne sword this is of yore,
Which Merlin made by his almightie art,
For that his noursling, when he knighthood swore,
There with to [...] his foes eternall smart.
The metall first he mixt with [...],
That no enchauntment from his dint might [...];
Then it in flames of [...] wrought apart,
And seuen times dipped in the bitter waue
Of hellish Styx, which hidden vertue to it gaue.
The vertue is, that nether steele, nor stone
The stroke there of from entraunce may defend;
Ne euer may be [...] by his fone,
Ne forst his rightful owner to offend,
Ne euer will it breake, ne euer bend.
Wherefore Morddure it rightfully is hight.
In vaine therefore, Pyrhochles, should I lend
The same to thee, against his lord to fight,
For sure yt would deceiue thy labor, and thy might.
Foolish old man, said then the Pagan wroth,
That weenest words or charms may force withstond:
Soone shalt thou see, and then beleeue for troth,
That I can [...] with this inchaunted brond
[Page 297]His Lords owne flesh. Therewith out of his hond
That vertuous steele he rudely snatcht away,
And Guyons shield about his wrest he bond;
So ready dight, fierce battaile to assay,
And match his brother proud in battailous aray.
By this that straunger knight in presence came,
And goodly salued them; who nought againe
Him answered, as courtesie became,
But with sterne lookes, and stomachous disdaine,
Gaue signes of grudge and discontentment vaine:
Then turning to the Palmer, he gan spy
Where at his feet, with sorrowfull demayne
And deadly hew, an armed corse did lye,
In whose dead face he [...] great magnanimity.
Sayd he then to the Palmer, Reuerend syre,
What great misfortune hath be tidd this knight?
Or did his life her [...] date expyre,
Or did he fall by treason, or by fight?
How euer, sure I rew his pitteous plight.
Not one, nor other, sayd the Palmer graue,
Hath him befalne, but cloudes of deadly night
A while his heauy eylids couer'd haue,
And all his sences drowned in deep sencelesse waue.
Which, those same foes, that stand hereby,
Making aduauntage, to reuenge their spight,
Would him disarme, and treaten shamefully,
Vnworthie vsage of redoubted knight.
But you, faire Sir, whose honourable sight
Doth promise hope of helpe, and timely grace,
[...] I beseech to succour his sad plight,
And by your powre protect his feeble [...].
First prayse of knighthood is, fowle outrage to deface.
Palmer, (said he) no [...] so rude, I weene,
As to doen outrage to a sleeping ghost:
Ne was there euer noble corage seene,
That in aduauntage would his puissaunce bost:
Honour is least, where oddes appeareth most.
May bee, that better reason will aswage,
The rash reuengers heat. Words well [...]
Haue secrete powre, t'appease inflamed rage:
If not, leaue vnto me thy knights last patronage.
Tho turning to those brethren, thus bespoke,
Ye warlike payre, whose valorous great might
It seemes, iust wronges to vengeaunce doe prouoke,
To wreake your wrath on this dead seeming knight,
Mote ought allay the storme of your despight,
And settle patience in so furious heat?
Not to debate the chalenge of your right,
But for this carkas pardon I entreat,
Whom fortune hath already laid in lowest seat.
To whom Cymochles said, For what art thou,
That mak'st thy selfe his dayes-man, to prolong
The vengeaunce prest? Or who shall let me now,
On this vile body from to wreak my wrong,
And make his carkas as the outcast dong?
Why should not that dead carrion satisfye
The guilt, which if he liued had thus long,
His life for dew reuenge should deare abye?
The trespas still doth liue, albee the person dye.
Indeed, then said the Prince, the euill donne
Dyes not, when breath the body first doth leaue,
But from the [...] to the Nephewes sonne,
And all his seede the curse doth often cleaue,
[Page 299]Till vengeaunce vtterly the guilt bereaue:
So streightly God doth iudge. But gentle knight,
That doth against the dead his hand vpreare,
His honour staines with rancour and despight,
And great disparagment makes to his former might.
Pyrrhochles gan reply the second tyme,
And to him said, Now felon sure I read,
How that thou art partaker of his cryme:
Therefore by Termagaunt thou shalt be dead.
With that his hand, more sad then lomp of lead,
Vplifting high, he weened with Morddure,
His owne good sword Morddure, to cleaue his head.
The faithfull steele such treason no'uld endure,
But swaruing from the [...], his Lordes life did assure.
Yet was the force so furious and so fell,
That horse and man it made to reele asyde;
Nath'lesse the Prince would not forsake his sell:
For well of yore he learned had to ryde,
But full of anger fiersly to him cryde;
False traitour miscreaunt, thou broken hast
The law of armes, to strike foe vndefide.
But thou thy treasons fruit, I hope, shalt taste
Right sowre, & feele the law, the which thou hast defast
With that his balefull speare, he fiercely bent
Against the Pagons brest, and therewith thought
His cursed life out of her lodg haue rent:
But ere the point arriued, where it ought,
That seuen fold shield, which he from Guyon brought
He cast between toward the bitter stownd:
Through all those foldes the steelehead passage wrought
And through his shoulder perst; wher with to groūd
He groueling fell, all gored in his gushing wound.
Which when his brother saw, fraught with great griefe
And wrath, he to him leaped furiously,
And fowly saide, By Mahoune, cursed thiefe,
That direfull stroke thou dearely shalt aby.
Then hurling vp his harmefull blade on hy,
Smote him so hugely on his haughtie crest,
That from his saddle forced him to fly:
Els mote it needes downe to his manly brest
Haue cleft his head in twaine, and life thence dispossest
Now was the Prince in daungerous distresse,
Wanting his sword, when he on foot should fight:
His single speare could doe him small redresse,
Against two foes of so exceeding might,
The least of which was match for any knight.
And now the other, whom he earst did daunt,
Had reard him selfe againe to cruel fight,
Three times more furious, and more puissaunt,
Vnmindfull of his wound, of his fate ignoraunt.
So both attonce him charge on either syde,
With hideous strokes, and importable powre,
That forced him his ground to trauerse wyde,
And wisely watch to ward that deadly stowre:
For in his shield, as thicke as stormie showre,
Their strokes did raine, yet did he neuer quaile,
Ne backward shrinke, but as a stedfast towre,
Whom foe with doubly battry doth assaile,
Them on her bulwarke beares, and bids them nought auaile.
So stoutly he withstood their strong assay,
Till that at last, when he aduantage spyde,
His poynant speare he thrust with puissant sway
At proud Cymochles, whiles his shield was wyde,
[Page 301]That through his thigh the mortall steele did gryde:
He swaruing with the force, within his flesh
Did breake the launce, and let the head abyde:
Out of the wound the redblood flowed fresh,
That vnderneath his feet soone made a purple plesh.
Horribly then he gan to rage, and rayle,
Cursing his Gods, and him selfe damning deepe:
Als when his brother saw the redblood rayle
Adowne so fast and all his armour steepe,
For very felnesse lowd he gan to weepe,
And said, Caytiue, cursse on thy cruell hond,
That twise hath spedd, yet shall it not thee keepe
From the third brunt of this my fatall brond:
Lo where the dreadfull Death behynd thy backe doth stond.
With that he strooke, and thother strooke withall,
That nothing seemd mote beare so mōstrous might:
The one vpon his couered shield did fall,
And glauncing downe would not his owner byte:
But th'other did vpon his [...] smyte,
Which hewing quite a sunder, further way
It made, and on his hacqueton did lyte,
The which [...] with importune sway,
It seizd in his right side, and there the dint did stay.
Wyde was the wound, and a large lukewarme flood,
Red as the Rose, thence gushed grieuously,
That when the Paynym spyde the streaming blood,
Gaue him great hart, aud hope of victory.
On thother side, in huge perplexity,
The Prince now stood, hauing his weapon broke;
Nought could he hurt, but still at warde did ly:
Yet with his troncheon he so rudely stroke
Cymochles twise, that twise him forst his foot reuoke.
Whom when the Palmer saw in such distresse,
Sir Guyons sword he lightly to him raught,
And said, fayre Sonne, great god thy right hād blesse,
To vse that sword so well, as he it ought.
Glad was the knight, & with fresh courage fraught,
When as againe he armed felt his hond;
Then like a Lyon, which hath long time saught
His robbed whelpes and at the last them fond
Emongst the shepeheard swaynes, then wexeth wood & yond.
So fierce he laid about him, and dealt blowes
On either side, that neither mayle could hold,
Ne shield defend the thunder of his throwes:
Now to Pyrrhochles many strokes he told;
Eft to Cymochles twise so many fold:
Then backe againe turning his busie hond,
Them both atonce compeld with courage bold,
To yield wide way to his hart-thrilling brond;
And though they both stood stiffe, yet could not both withstond.
As saluage Bull, whom two fierce mastiues bayt,
When rancour doth with rage him once engore,
Forgets with wary warde them to awayt,
But with his dreadfull hornes them driues afore,
Or flings aloft or treades downe in the flore,
Breathing out wrath, and bellowing disdaine,
That all the forest quakes to heare him rore:
So rag'd Prince Arthur twixt his foemen twaine,
That neither could his mightie puissaunce sustaine.
But euer at Pyrrhochles when he smitt,
Who Guyons shield cast euer him before.
Whereon the Faery Queenes pourtract was writt,
His hand relented, and the stroke forbore,
[Page 303]And his deare hart the picture gan adore,
Which oft the Paynim sau'd from deadly stowre.
But him henceforth the same can saue no more;
For now arriued is his fatall howre,
That no'te auoyded be by earthly skill or powre.
For when Cymochles saw the fowle reproch,
Which them appeached, prickt with guiltie shame,
And inward griefe, he fiercely gan approch,
Resolu'd to put away that loathly blame,
Or dye with honour and desert of fame;
And on the haubergh stroke the Prince so sore,
That quite disparted all the linked frame,
And pierced to the skin, but bit not thore,
Yet made him twise to reele, that neuer moou'd afore.
Whereat renfierst with wrath and sharp regret,
He stroke so hugely with his borrowd blade,
That it empiest the Pagans burganet,
And cleauing the hard steele, did deepe inuade
Into his head, and cruell passage made
Quite through his brayne. He tombling downe on ground,
Breathd out his ghost, which to th'infernall shade
Fast flying, there eternall torment found,
For all the sinnes, wherewith his lewd life did abound.
Which when his german saw, the stony feare,
Ran to his hart, and all his sence dismayd,
Ne thenceforth life ne corage did appeare,
But as a man, whom hellish feendes haue frayd,
Long trembling still he stoode: at last thus sayd,
Traytour what hast thou doen? how euer may
Thy cursed hand so cruelly haue swayd
Against that knight: Horrow and well away,
After so wicked deede why liu'st thou lenger day?
With that all desperate as loathing light,
And with reuenge desyring soone to dye,
Assembling all his force and vtmost might,
With his owne swerd he fierce at him did flye,
And strooke, and foynd, and lasht outrageously,
Withouten reason or regard. Well knew
The Prince, with pacience and sufferaunce sly
So hasty heat soone cooled to subdew:
Tho when this breathlesse woxe, that batteil gan renew.
As when a windy tempest bloweth hye,
That nothing may withstand his stormy stowre,
The clowdes, as thinges affrayd, before him flye;
But all so soone as his outrageous powre
Is layd, they fiercely then begin to showre,
And as in scorne of his spent stormy spight,
Now all attonce their malice forth do poure;
So did Sir Guyon beare himselfe in fight,
And suffred rash Pyrrhochles waste his ydle might.
At last when as the Sarazin perceiu'd,
How that straunge sword refusd, to serue his neede,
But when he stroke most strong, the dint deceiu'd,
He flong it from him, and deuoyd of dreed,
Vpon him lightly leaping without heed,
Twixt his two mighty armes engrasped fast,
Thinking to ouerthrowe and downe him tred:
But him in strength and skill the Prince surpast,
And through his nimble sleight did vnder him down cast
Nought booted it the Paynim then to striue;
For as a Bittur in the Eagles clawe,
That may not hope by flight to scape aliue,
Still waytes for death with dread and trembling aw,
[Page 305]So he now fubiect to the victours law,
Did not once moue, nor vpward cast his eye,
For vile disdaine and rancour, which did gnaw
His hart in twaine with sad melancholy,
As one that loathed life, and yet despysd to dye.
But full of princely bounty and great mind,
The Conquerour nought cared him to slay,
But casting wronges and all reuenge behind,
More glory thought to giue life, then decay,
And sayd, Paynim, this is thy dismall day;
Yet if thou wilt renounce thy miscreaunce,
And my trew liegeman yield thy selfe for ay,
Life will I graunt thee for thy valiaunce,
And all thy wronges will wipe out of my souenaunce.
Foole (sayd the Pagan) I thy gift defye,
But vse thy fortune, as it doth befall,
And say, that I not ouercome doe dye,
But in despight of life, for death doe call.
Wroth was the Prince, and sory yet withall,
That he so wilfully refused grace;
Yet sith his fate so cruelly did fall,
His shining Helmet he gan soone vnlace,
And left his headlesse body bleeding all the place.
By this Sir Guyon from his traunce awakt,
Life hauing maystered her sencelesse foe;
And looking vp, when as his shield he lakt,
And sword saw not, he wexed wondrous woe:
But when the Palmer, whom he long ygoe
Had lost, he by him spyde, right glad he grew,
And saide, Deare sir, whom wandring to and fro
I long haue lackt, I ioy thy face to vew;
Firme is thy faith, whom daunger neuer fro me drew.
But read, what wicked hand hath robbed mee
Of my good sword and shield? The Palmer glad,
With so fresh hew vprysing him to see,
Him answered; fayre sonne, be no whit sad
For want of weapons, they shall soone be had.
So gan he to discourse the whole debate,
Which that straunge knight for him sustained had.
And those two Sarazins confounded late,
Whose carcases on ground were horribly prostrate.
Which when he heard, and saw the tokens trew,
His hart with great affection was embayd,
And to the Prince bowing reuerence dew,
As to the Patrone of his life, thus sayd;
My Lord, my liege, by whose most gratious ayd
I liue this day, and see my foes subdewd,
What may [...], to be for meede repayd
Of so great graces, as ye haue me shewd,
But to be euer bound
To whom the Infant thus, Fayre Sir, what need
Good turnes be counted, as a seruile bond,
To bind their dooers, to receiue their meed?
Are not all knightes by oath bound, to withstond
Oppreslours powre by armes and puissant hond?
Suffise, that I haue done my dew in place.
So goodly purpose they together fond,
Of kindnesse and of courteous aggrace;
The whiles false Archimage and Atin fled apace.
Cant. IX.
The house of Temperance, in which
doth sober Alma dwell,
Besiegd of many foes, whom straunger
knightes to flight compell.
OF all Gods workes, which doe this world adorne,
There is no one more faire and excellent,
Then is mans body both for powre and forme,
Whiles it is kept in sober gouernment;
But none then it, more fowle and incedent,
Distempred through misrule and passions bace:
It growes a Monster, and incontinent
Doth loose his dignity and natiue grace.
Behold, who list, both one and other in this place.
After the Paynim brethren conquer'd were,
The Briton Prince recou'ring his stolne sword,
And Guyon his lost shield, they both yfere
Forth [...] on their way in fayre accord,
Till him the Prince with gentle court did bord;
Sir knight, mote I of you this court'sy read,
To weet why on your shield so goodly scord
Beare ye the picture of that Ladies head?
Full liuely is the semblaunt, though the substance dead.
Fayre Sir (sayd he) if in that picture dead
Such life ye read, and vertue in vaine shew,
What mote ye weene, if the trew liuely-head
Of that most glorious visage ye did vew?
[Page 308]But yf the beauty of her mind ye knew,
That is her bounty, and imperiall powre,
Thousand times fairer then her mortal hew,
O how great wonder would your thoughts deuoure,
And infinite desire into your spirite ponre.
Shee is the mighty Queene of Faery,
Whose faire retraitt I in my shield doe beare;
Shee is the flowre of grace and ehastity,
Throughout the world renowmed far and neare,
My liefe, my liege, my Soueraine, my deare,
Whose glory shineth as the morning starre,
And with her light the earth enlumines cleare;
Far reach her mercies, and her praises farre,
As well in state of peace, as puissaunce in warre.
Thrise happy man, (said then the Briton knight)
Whom gracious lott, and thy great valiaunce
Haue made thee soldier of that Princesse bright,
Which with her bounty and glad countenaunce
Doth blesse her seruaunts, and them high [...].
How may straunge knight hope euer to aspire,
By faithfull seruice, and meete amenaunce,
Vnto such blisse? sufficient were that hire
For losse of thousand liues, to die at her desire.
Said Guyon, Noble Lord, what meed so great,
Or grace of earthly Prince so soueraine,
But by your wondrous worth add [...] feat
Ye well may hope, and easely attaine?
But were your will, her sold to entertaine,
And numbred be mongst knights of Maydenhcd,
Great guerdon, well I wore, should you remaine,
And in her fauor high bee reckoned,
As Arthogall, and Sophy now beene honored.
Certes (then said the Prince) I God auow,
That sith I armes and knighthood first did plight,
My whole desire hath beene, and yet is now,
To serue that Queene with al my powre and might.
Seuen times the Sunne with his lamp-burning light,
Hath walkte about the world, and I no lesse,
Sith of that Goddesse I haue sought the sight,
Yet no where can her find: such happinesse
Heuen doth to me enuy, and fortune fauourlesse.
Fortune, the foe of famous cheuisaunce
Seldome (said Guyon) yields to vertue aide,
But in her way throwes mischiefe and mischaunce,
Whereby her course is stopt, and passage staid.
But you, faire Sir, be not herewith dismaid,
But constant keepe the way, in which ye stand;
Which were it not, that I am els delaid
With hard adventure, which I haue in hand,
I labour would to guide you through al Fary land.
Gramercy Sir (said he) but mote I wote,
What straunge aduenture doe ye now pursew?
Perhaps my succour, or [...] meete
Mote stead you much your purpose to subdew.
Then gan Sir Guyon all the story shew
Of false Acrasia, and her wicked wiles,
Which to auenge, the Palmer him forth drew
From Faery court. So talked they, the whiles
They wasted had much way, and measurd many miles.
And now faire Phoebus gan decline in haste
His weary wagon to the Westerne vale,
Whenas they spide a goodly castle, plaste
Foreby a riuer in a pleasaunt dale,
[Page 310]Which choosing for that euenings hospitale,
They thether marcht: but when they came in sight,
And from their sweaty Coursers did auale,
They found the gates fast barred long ere night,
And euery loup fast lockt, as fearing foes despight.
Which when they saw, they weened fowle reproch
Was to them doen, their entraunce to forstall,
Till that the Squire gan migher to approch,
And wind his horne vnder the castle wall,
That with the noise it shooke; as it would fall.
Eftsoones forth looked from the highest spire
The watch, and lowd vnto the knights did call,
To weete, what they so rudely did require.
Who gently answered, They entraunce did desire.
Fly fly, good knights, (said he) fly fast away
If that your liues yeloue, as meete ye should;
Fly fast, and saue your selues from neare decay,
Here may ye not haue entraunce, though we would:
We would and would againe, if that we could;
But thousand enemies about vs raue,
And with long siege vs in this castle hould:
Seuen yeares this wize they vs besieged haue,
And many good knights slaine, that haue vs sought to saue.
Thus as he spoke, loe with outragious cry
A thousand villeins rownd about them swarmd
Out of the rockes and [...] adioyning nye,
Vile caitiue wretches, ragged, rude, deformd,
All threaning death, all in straunge manner armd,
Some with vnweldy clubs, some with long speares,
Some rusty knifes, some staues in fier warmd.
Sterne was their looke, like wild amazed steares,
Staring with hollow eies, and stiffe vpstanding heares.
Fiersly at first those knights they did assayle,
And droue them to recoile: but when againe
They gaue fresh charge, their forces gan to fayle,
Vnhable their encounter to sustaine;
For with such puissaunce and impetuous maine
Those Champions broke on them, that forst thē fly,
Like scattered Sheepe, whenas the Shepherds swaine
A Lyon and a Tigre doth espye,
With greedy pace forth rushing from the forest nye.
A while they fled, but soone retournd againe
With greater fury, then before was fownd;
And euermore their cruell Captaine
Sought with his raskall routs t'enclose them rownd,
And ouerrōne to tread them to the grownd.
But soone the knights with their bright-burning blades
Broke their rude troupes, and orders did confownd,
Hewing and slashing at their idle shades;
For though they bodies seem, yet substaunce from them fades.
As when a swarme of Gnats at euentide
Out of the fennes of Allan doe arise,
Their murmuring small [...] sownden wide,
Whiles in the aire their clustring army flies,
That as a cloud doth seeme to dim the skies;
Ne man nor beast may rest, or take repast,
For their sharpe wounds, and noyous iniuries,
Till the fierce Northerne wind with blustring blast
Doth blow them quite away, and in the Ocean cast.
[...] when they had that troublous rout disperst,
Vnto the castle gate they come againe,
And entraunce crau'd, which was denied erst.
Now when report of that their perlous paine,
[Page 312]And combrous conflict, which they did sustaine,
Came to the Ladies eare, which there did dwell,
Shee forth issewed with a goodly traine
Of Squires and Ladies equipaged well,
And entertained them right fairely, as befell.
Alma she called was, a virgin bright;
That had not yet felt Cupides wanton rage,
Yet was shee wooed of many a gentle knight,
And many a Lord of noble parentage,
That sought with her to lincke in marriage:
For shee was faire, as faire mote euer bee,
And in the flowre now of her freshest age;
Yet full of grace and goodly modestee,
That euen heuen reioyced her sweete face to see.
In robe of lilly white she was arayd,
That from her shoulder to her heele downe raught,
The traine where of loose far behind her strayd,
Braunched with gold & perle, most richly wrought,
And borne of two faire Damsels, which were taught
That seruice well. Her yellow golden heare
Was trimly wouen, and in tresses wrought,
Ne other tire she on her head did weare,
But crownd with a garland of sweete Rosiere.
Goodly shee entertaind those noble knights,
And brought them vp into her castle hall;
Where gentle court and gracious delight
Shee to them made, with mildnesse virginall,
Shewing her selfe both wise and liberall:
Then when they rested had a season dew,
They her besought of fauour speciall,
Of that faire Castle to affoord them vew;
Shee graunted, & them leading forth, the same did shew.
First she him led vp to the Castle wall,
That was so high, as foe might not it clime,
And all so faire, and sensible withall,
Not built of bricke, ne yet of stone and lime,
But of thing like to that AEgyptian slime,
Where of king Nine whilome built Babell towre,
But O great pitty, that no lenger a time
So goodly workemanship should not endure:
Soone it must turne to earth; no earthly thing is sure.
The frame thereof seemd partly circulare,
And part triangulare, O worke diuine;
Those two the first and last proportions are,
The one imperfect, mortall, foeminine;
Th'other immortall, perfect, masculine,
And twixt them both a quadrate was the base,
Proportioned equally by seuen and nine;
Nine was the circle sett in heauens place,
All which compacted made a goodly Dyapase.
Therein two gates were placed seemly well:
The one before, by which all in did pas,
Did th'other far in workmanship excell;
For not of wood, nor of enduring bras,
But of more worthy substance fram'd it was;
Doubly disparted, it did locke and close,
That when it locked, none might thorough pas,
And when it opened, no man might it close,
Still open to their friendes, and closed to their foes.
Of hewen stone the porch was fayrely wrought,
Stone more of valew, and more smooth and fine,
Then Iett or Marble far from Ireland brought;
Ouer the which was cast a wandring vine,
[Page 314]Enchaced with a wanton yuie twine.
And ouer it a fayre Portcullis hong,
Which to the gate directly did incline,
With comely compasse, and compacture strong,
Nether vnseemly short, nor yet exceeding long.
Within the Barbican a Porter sate,
Day and night duely keeping watch and ward,
Nor wight, nor word mote passe out of the gate,
But in good order, and with dew regard;
Vtterers of secrets he from thence debard,
Bablers of folly, and blazers of cryme.
His larumbell might lowd and wyde be hard,
When cause requyrd, but neuer out of time;
Early and late it rong, at euening and at prime.
And rownd about the porch on euery syde.
Twise sixteene warders satt, all armed bright,
In glistring steele, and strongly fortifyde:
Tallyeomen seemed they, and of great might,
And were enraunged ready, still for fight.
By them as Alma passed with her guestes,
They did obeysaunce, as beseemed right,
And then againe retourned to their restes:
The Porter eke to her did lout with humble gestes.
Thence she them brought into a stately Hall,
Wherein were many tables fayre dispred,
And ready dight with drapets festiuall,
Against the viaundes should be ministred.
At th'upper end there sate, yclad in red
Downe to the ground, a comely personage,
That in his hand a white rod menaged,
He Steward was hight Diet; rype of age,
And in demeanure sober, and in counsell sage.
And through the Hall there walked to and fro
A iolly yeoman, Marshall of the same,
Whose name was Appetite; he did bestow
Both guestes and meate, when euer in they came,
And knew them how to order without blame,
As him the Steward badd. They both attone
Did dewty to their Lady, as became;
Who passing by, forth ledd her guestes anone
Into the kitchin rowme, nespard for nicenesse none.
It was a vaut ybuilt for great dispence,
With many raunges reard along the wall;
And one great chimney, whose long tonnell thence,
The smoke forth threw. And in the midst of all
There placed was a caudron wide and tall,
Vpon a mightie fornace, burning whott,
More whott, then Aetn', or flaming Mongiball:
For day and night it brent, ne ceased not,
So long as any thing it in the caudron gott.
But to delay the heat, least by mischaunce
It might breake out, and set the whole on fyre,
There added was by goodly ordinaunce,
An huge great payre of bellowes, which did styre
Continually, and cooling breath inspyre.
About the Caudron many Cookes accoyld,
With hookes and ladles, as need did requyre;
The whyles the viaundes in the vessell boyld
They did about their businesse sweat, and sorely toyld.
The maister Cooke was cald [...],
A carefull man, and full of comely guyse:
The kitchin clerke, that hight Digestion,
Did order all th'Achates in seemely wise,
[Page 316]And set them forth, as well he could deuise.
The rest had seuerall offices assynd,
Some to remoue the scum, as it did rise;
Others to beare the same away did mynd;
And others it to vse according to his kynd.
But all the liquour, which was fowle and waste,
Not good nor seruiceable elles for ought,
They in another great rownd vessell plaste,
Till by a conduit pipe it thence were brought:
And all the rest, that noyous was, and nought,
By secret wayes, that none might it espy,
Was close conuaid, and to the backgate brought,
That cleped was Port Esquiline, whereby
It was auoided quite, and throwne out priuily.
Which goodly order, and great workmans skill
Whenas those knightes beheld, with rare delight,
And gazing wonder they their mindes did fill;
For neuer had they seene so straunge a sight.
Thence backe againe faire Alma led them right,
And soone into a goodly Parlour brought,
That was with royall arras richly dight,
In which was nothing pourtrahed, nor wrought,
Not wrought, nor pourtrahed, but easie to be thought.
And in the midst thereof vpon the floure,
A louely beuy of faire Ladies sate,
Courted of many a iolly Paramoure,
The which them did in modest wise amate,
And each one sought his Lady to aggrate:
And eke emongst them litle Cupid playd
His wanton sportes, being retourned late
From his fierce warres, and hauing from him layd
His cruel bow, wherewith he thousands hath dismayd.
Diuerse delights they fownd them selues to please;
Some song in sweet consort, some laught for ioy,
Some plaid with strawes, some ydly satt at ease,
But other some could not abide to toy,
All pleasaunce was to them griefe and annoy:
This froūd, that faund, the third for shame did blush,
Another seemed enuious, or coy,
Another in her teeth did gnaw a rush:
But at these straungers presence euery one did hush.
Soone as the gracious Alma came in place,
They all attonce out of their seates arose,
And to her homage made, with humble grace:
Whom when the knights beheld, they gan dispose
Themselues to court, and each a damzell chose:
The Prince by chaunce did on a Lady light,
That was right faire and fresh as morning rose,
But somwhat sad, and solemne eke in sight,
As if some pensiue thought cōstraind her gentle spright
In a long purple pall, whose skirt with gold,
Was fretted all about, she was arayd;
And in her hand a Poplar braunch did hold:
To whom the prince in courteous maner sayd,
Gentle Madame, why beene ye thus dismayd,
And your faire beautie doe with sadnes spill?
Liues any, that you hath thus ill apayd?
Or doen your loue, or doen you lack your will?
What euer bee the cause, it sure beseemes you ill.
Fayre Sir, said she halfe in disdainefull wise,
How is it, that this word in me ye blame,
And in your selfe doe not the same aduise.
Him ill beseemes, anothers fault to name,
[Page 318]That may vnwares bee blotted with the same:
Pensiue I yeeld I am, and sad in mind,
Through great desire of glory and of fame;
Ne ought I weene are ye therein behynd,
That haue three years sought one, yet no where can her find.
The Prince was inly moued at her speach,
Well weeting trew, what she had rashly told,
Yet with faire semblaunt sought to hyde the breach,
Which chaunge of colour did perforce vnfold,
Now seeming flaming whott, now stony cold.
Tho turning soft aside, he did inquyre
What wight she was, that Poplar braunch did hold:
It answered was, her name was Praysdesire,
That by well doing sought to honour to aspyre.
The whyles, the Faery knight did entertayne
Another Damsell of that gentle crew,
That was right fayre, and modest of demayne,
But that too oft she chaung'd her natiue hew:
Straunge was her tyre, and all her garment blew,
Close rownd about her tuckt with many a plight:
Vpon her fist the bird, which shonneth vew
And keepes in couerts close from liuing wight,
Did sitt, as yet ashamd, how rude Pan did her dight.
So long as Guyon with her commoned,
Vnto the grownd she cast her modest eye,
And euer and anone with rosy red
The bashfull blood her snowy cheekes did dye,
That her became, as polisht yuory,
Which cunning Craftesman hand hath ouerlayd
With fayre vermilion or pure lastery
Great wonder had the knight, to see the mayd
So straungely passioned, and to her gently said.
Fayre Damzell, seemeth, by your troubled cleare,
That either me too bold ye weene, this wise
You to molest, or other ill to feare
That in the secret of your hart close lyes,
From whence it doth, as cloud from sea aryse.
If it be I, of pardon I you pray;
But if ought else that I more not deuyse,
I will, if please you it discure, assay,
To ease you of that ill, so wisely as I may.
She answerd nought, but more abasht for shame,
Held downe her head, the whiles her louely face,
The flashing blood with blushing did inflame,
And the strong passion mard her modest grace,
That Guyon meruayld at her vncouth cace;
Till Alma him bespake, why wonder yee
Faire Sir at that, which ye so much embrace?
She is the fountaine of your modestee;
You shamefast are, but Shamefastnes it selfe is shee.
Thereat the Elfe did blush in priuitee,
And turnd his face away; but she the same
Dissembled faire, and faynd to ouersee.
Thus they awhile with court and goodly game,
Themselues did solace each one with his Dame,
Till that great Lady thence away them sought,
To vew her Castles other wondrous frame.
Vp to a stately Turret she them brought,
Ascending by ten steps of Alablaster wrought.
That Turrets frame most admirable was,
Like highest heauen compassed around,
And lifted high aboue this earthly masse,
Which it suruewd, as hils doen lower ground;
[Page 320]But not on ground [...] like to this be found,
Not that, which antique Cadmus whylome built
In Thebes, which Alexander did confound;
Nor that proud towre of Troy, though richly guilt,
From which young Hector's blood by cruell Greekes was spilt.
The roofe hereof was arched ouer head,
And deckt with flowers and herbars daintily;
Two goodly Beacons, set in watches stead,
Therein gaue light, and flamd continually:
For they of liuing fire most subtilly,
Were made, and set in siluer sockets bright,
Couer'd with lids deuiz'd of substancesly,
That readily they shut and open might.
O who can tell the prayses of that makers might?
Ne can I tell, ne can I stay to tell
This parts great workemanship, & wondrous powre,
That all this other worldes worke doth excell,
And likest is vnto that heauenly towre,
That God hath built for his owne blessed bowre.
Therein were diuers rowmes, and diuers stages,
But three the chiefest, and of greatest powre,
In which there dwelt three honorable sages,
The wisest men, I weene, that liued in their ages.
Not he, whom Greece, the Nourse of all good arts,
By Phaebus doome, the wisest thought aliue,
Might be compar'd to this by many parts:
Nor that sage Pylian syre, which did suruiue
Three ages, such as mortall men contriue,
By whose aduise old Priams cittie fell,
With these in praise of pollicies mote striue.
These three in these three rowmes did sondry dwell,
And counselled faire Alma, how to gouerne well.
The first of them could things to come foresee:
The next could of thinges present best aduize;
The third things past could keepe in memoree,
So that no time, nor reason could arize,
But that the same could one [...] these comprize.
For thy the first did in the forepart sit,
That nought mote hinder his quicke [...]:
He had a sharpe foresight, and working wit,
That neuer idle was, ne once would rest a whit.
His chamber was dispainted all with in,
With sondry colours, in the which were writ
Infinite shapes of thinges dispersed thin;
Some such as in the world were neuer yit,
Ne can deuized be of mortall wit;
Some daily seene, and knowen by their names,
Such as in idle fantasies doe flit:
Infernall Hags, [...], feendes, Hippodames,
Apes, Lyons, Aegles, Owles, fooles, louers, children, Dames.
And all the chamber filled was with flyes,
Which buzzed all about, and made such sound,
That they encombred all mens eares and eyes,
Like many swarmes of Bees assembled round,
After their hiues with honny do [...]:
All those were idle thoughtes and fantasies,
Deuices, dreames, opinions vnsound,
Shewes, visions, sooth-sayes, and prophesies;
And all that fained is, as leasings, tales, and lies.
Emongst them all sate he, which wonned there,
That hight Phantastes by his nature trew,
A man of yeares yet fresh, as [...] appere,
Of swarth-complexion, and of crabbed hew,
[Page 322]That him full of melancholy did shew;
Bent hollow beetle browes, sharpe staring eyes,
That mad or foolish seemd: one by his vew
Mote deeme him borne with ill disposed skyes,
When oblique Saturne sate in the house of agonyes.
Whom Alma hauing shewed to her guestes,
Thence brought thē to the second rowme, whose wals
Were painted faire with memorable gestes,
Of famous Wisards, and with picturals
Of Magistrates, of courts, of tribunals,
Of commen wealthes, of states, of pollicy,
Of lawes, of iudgementes, and of decretals;
All artes, all science, all Philosophy,
And all that in the world was ay thought wittily.
Of those that rowme was full, and them among
There sate a man of ripe and perfect age,
Who did them meditate all his life long,
That through continuall practise and vsage,
He now was growne right wise, and wondrous sage.
Great plesure had those straunger knightes, to see
His goodly reason, and graue personage,
That his disciples both desyrd to bee;
But Alma thence thē led to th'hindmost rowme of three.
That chamber seemed ruinous and old,
And therefore was remoued far behind,
Yet were the wals, that did the same vphold,
Right firme & strong, though somwhat they declind;
And therein sat an old oldman, halfe blind,
And all decrepit in his feeble corse,
Yet liuely vigour rested in his mind,
And recompenst him with a better scorse:
Weake body welis chang'd for minds redoubled forse.
This man of infinite remembraunce was,
And things foregone through many ages held,
Which he recorded still, as they did pas,
Ne suffred them to perish through long eld,
As all things els, the which this world doth weld,
But laid them vp in his immortall scrine,
Where they for euer incorrupted dweld:
The warres he well remembred of king Nine,
Of old Assaracus, and Inachus diuine.
The yeares of Nestor nothing were so his,
Ne yet Mathusalem though longest liu'd;
For he remembred both their infancis:
Ne wonder then, if that he were depriu'd
Of natiue strength now, that he them suruiu'd.
His chamber all was hangd about with rolls,
And old records from auncient times deriud,
Some made in books, some in lōg parchment scrolls,
That were all worm-eaten, and full of canker holes.
Amidst them all he in a chaire was sett,
Tossing and turning them withouten end;
But for he was vnhable them to fett,
A litle boy did on him still attend,
To reach, when euer he for ought did send;
And oft when thinges were lost, or laid amis,
That boy them sought, and vnto him did lend.
Therefore he Anamnestes cleped is,
And that old man Eumnestes, by their propertis.
The knightes there entring, did him reuerence dew
And wondred at his endlesse exercise,
Then as they gan his Library to vew,
And antique Regesters for to auise,
[Page 324]There chaunced to the Princes hand to rize,
An auncient booke, hight Briton moniments,
That of this lands first conquest did deuize,
And old diuision into Regiments,
Till it reduced was to one mans gouernements.
Sir Guyon chaunst eke on another booke,
That hight, Antiquitee of Faery lond.
In which when as he greedily did looke,
Th'ofspring of Elues and Faryes there he fond,
As it deliuered was from hond to hond:
Whereat they burning both with feruent fire,
Their countreys auncestry to vnderstond;
Crau'd leaue of Alma, and that aged sire,
To read those bookes; who gladly graunted their desire.
Cant. X.
A chronicle of Briton kings,
From Brute to Uthers rayne.
And rolls of Elfin Emperours,
Till time of Gloriane.
WHo now shall giue vnto me words and sound,
Equall vnto this haughty enterprise?
Or who shall lend me wings, with which frō ground
My lowly verse may loftily arise,
And lift it selfe vnto the highest skyes?
More ample spirit, then hetherto was wount,
Here needes me, whiles the famous auncestryes
Of my most dreaded Soueraigne I recount,
By which all earthly Princes she doth far surmount.
Ne vnder Sunne, that shines so wide and faire,
Whence all that liues, does borrow life and light,
Liues ought, that to her linage may compaire,
Which though from earth it be deriued right,
Yet doth it selfe stretch forth to heuens hight,
And all the world with wonder ouerspred;
A labor huge, exceeding far my might:
How shall fraile pen, with feare disparaged,
Conceiue such soueraine glory, and great bountyhed?
Argument worthy of Moeonian quill,
Or rather worthy of great Phoebus rote,
Whereon the ruines of great Ossa hill,
And triumphes of Phlegraean Ioue he wrote,
[Page 326]That all the Gods admird his lofty note.
But if some relish of that heuenly lay
His learned daughters would to me report,
To decke my song withall, I would assay,
Thy name, O soueraine Queene, to blazon far away.
Thy name O soueraine Queene, thy realme and race,
From this renowmed Prince deriued arre,
Whom mightily vpheld that royall mace,
Which now thou bear'st, to thee descended farre
From mighty kings and conquerours in warre,
Thy fathers and thy great Grandfathers of gold,
Whose noble deeds aboue the Northern starre
Immortall fame for euer hath enrold;
As in that old mans booke they were in order told.
The land, which warlike Britons now possesse,
And therein haue their mighty empire raysd,
In antique times was saluage wildernesse,
Vnpeopled, vnmannurd, vnproud, vnpraysd,
Ne was it Island then, ne was it paysd
Amid the Ocean waues, ne was it sought
Of merchaunts farre, for profits therein praysd,
But was all desolate, and of some thought
By sea to haue bene frō the Celticke mayn-land brought.
Ne did it then deserue a name to haue,
Till that the venturous Mariner that way
Learning his ship from those white rocks to saue,
Which all along the Southerne sea-coast lay,
Threatning vnheedy wrecke and rash decay,
For safety that same his sea-marke made,
And namd it Albion. But later day
Finding in it fit ports for fishers trade,
Gan more the same frequent, and further to inuade.
But far in land a saluage nation dwelt,
Of hideous Giaunts, and halfe beastly men,
That neuer tasted grace, nor goodnes felt,
But like wild beastes lurking in loathsome den,
And flying fast as Roebucke through the fen,
All naked without shame, or care of cold,
By hunting and by spoiling liueden;
Of stature huge, and eke of corage bold,
That sonnes of men amazd their sternesse to behold.
But whence they sprong, or how they were begott,
Vneath is to assure, vneath to wene
That monstrous error, which doth some assott,
That Dioclesians fifty daughters shene
Into this land by chaunce haue driuen bene,
Where companing with feends and filthy Sprights
Through vaine illusion of their lust vnclene,
They brought forth Geaunts & such dreadful wights,
As far exceeded men in their immeasurd mights.
They held this land, and with their filthinesse
Polluted this same gentle soyle long time:
That their owne mother loathd their beastlinesse,
And gan abhorre her broods vnkindly crime,
All were they borne of her owne [...] slime;
Vntil that Brutus anciently deriu'd
From roiall stocke of old Assaracs line,
Driuen by fatall error, here arriu'd,
And them of their vniust possession depriu'd.
But ere he had established his throne,
And spred his empire to the vtmost shore,
He fought great batteils with his saluage fone;
In which he them defeated euermore,
That well can witnes yet vnto this day
The westerne Hogh, besprincled with the gore
Of mighty Goemot, whome in stout fray
Corineus conquered, and cruelly did slay.
And eke that ample Pitt, yet far renownd,
For the large leape, which Debon did compell
[...] to make, being eight lugs of grownd;
Into the which retourning backe, he fell,
But those three monstrons stones doe most excell
Which that huge sonne of hideous Albion,
Whose father Hercules in Fraunce did quell,
Great Codmer threw, in fierce contention,
At bold Canutus; but of him was slaine anon.
In meed of these great conquests by them gott,
Corineus had that Prouince vtmost west,
To him assigned for his worthy lott,
Which of his name and memorable gest
He called Gornwaile, yet so called best:
And Debons shayre was, that is Deuonshyre:
But [...] had his portion from the rest,
The which he cald Ganutium, for his hyre;
Now Gantium, which Kent we comenly inquyre.
Thus Brute this Realme vnto his rule subdewd,
And raigned long in great felicity,
Lou'd of his freends, and of his foes eschewd,
He left three sonnes, his famous progeny,
Borne of fayre [...] of Italy;
Mongst whom he [...] his imperiall state,
And Locrine left chiefe Lord of Britany.
At last ripe age bad him surrender late
His life, and long good fortune vnto finall fate.
Locrine was left the soueraine Lord of all;
But Albanact had all the Northerne part,
Which of him selfe Albania he did call;
And Camber did possesse the Westerne quart,
Which [...] now from Logris doth depart:
And each his portion peaceably enioyd,
Ne was there outward breach, nor grudge in hart,
That once their quiet gouernment annoyd,
But each his paynes to others profit still employd.
Vntill a nation straung, with visage swart,
And corage fierce, that all men did affray,
Which through the world the swarmd in euery part,
And ouerflow'd all countries far away,
Like Noyes great flood, with their importune sway,
This land inuaded with like violence,
And did themselues through all the North display:
Vntill that [...] for his Realmes defence,
Did head against them make, and strong munificence.
He them encountred, a confused rout,
Foreby the Riuer, that whylome was hight
The ancient Abus, where with courage stout
He them defeated in victorious fight,
And chaste so fiercely after fearefull flight,
That forst their Chiefetain, for his safeties sake,
(Their Chiefetain Humber named was aright,)
Vnto the mighty [...] him to betake,
Where he an end of batteill, and of life did make.
The king retourned proud of victory,
And insolent wox through vnwonted case,
That shortly he forgot the ieopardy,
Which in his land he lately did appease,
[Page 330]And fell to vaine voluptuous disease:
He lou'd [...] Ladie [...], [...] lou'd,
Whose wanton pleasures him too much did please,
That quite his hart from Guendolene remou'd,
Frō Guendolene his wife, though alwaies faithful prou'd.
The noble daughter of Corineus
Would not endure to bee so vile disdaind,
But gathering force, and corage valorous,
Encountred him in batteill well ordaind,
In which him vanquisht she to fly constraind:
But she so fast pursewd, that him she tooke,
And threw in bands, where he till death remaind
Als his faire Leman, flying through a brooke,
She ouerhent, nought moued with her piteous looke.
But both her selfe, and eke her daughter deare,
Begotten by her kingly Paramoure,
The faire Sabrina almost dead with feare,
She there attached, far from all succoure;
The one she [...] vpon the present floure,
But the sad virgin innocent of all,
Adowne the rolling riuer she did poure,
Which of her name now Seuerne men do call:
Such was the end, that to disloyall loue did fall.
Then for her sonne, which she to Locrin bore,
Madan was young, vnmeet the rule to sway,
In her owne hand the crowne she kept in store,
Till ryper yeares he raught, and stronger stay:
During which time her powre she did display
Through all this realme, the glory of her sex,
And first taught men a woman to obay:
But when her sonne to mans estate did wex,
She it surrendred, ne her selfe would lenger vex.
Tho Madan raignd, vnworthie of his race:
For with all shame that sacred throne he fild:
Next Memprise, as vnworthy of that place,
In which being consorted with Manild,
For thirst of single kingdom him he kild.
But Ebranck salued both their infamies
With noble deedes, and warreyd on Brunchild
In [...], where yet of his victories
Braue moniments remaine, which yet that land enuies.
An happy man in his first dayes he was,
And happy father of faire progeny:
For all so many weekes, as the yeare has,
So many children he did multiply;
Of which were twentie sonnes, which did apply,
Their mindes to prayse, and cheualrous desyre:
Those germans did subdew all Germany,
Of whom it hight; but in the end their Syre
With foule repulse from Fraunce was forced to retyre,
Which blott his sonne succeeding in his seat,
The second Brute, the second both in name,
And eke in semblaunce of his puissaunce great,
Right well recur'd, and did away that blame
With recompence of euerlasting fame.
He with his victour sword first opened,
The bowels of wide Fraunce, a forlorne Dame,
And taught her first how to be conquered;
Since which, with sondrie spoiles she hath bene ransacked.
Let Scaldis tell, and let tell Hania,
And let the marsh of Estham bruges tell,
What colour were their waters that same day,
And all the moore twixt Eluersham and Dell,
[Page 332]With blood of Henalois, which therein fell.
How oft that day did sad Brunchildis see
The greene shield dyde in dolorous vermell?
That not Seuith guiridh he mote seeme to bee.
But rather y Seuith gogh, signe of sad crueltee.
His sonne king Leill by fathers labour long,
Enioyd an heritage of lasting peace,
And built Cairleill, and built Cairleon strong.
Next Huddibras his realme did not encrease,
But taught the land from wearie wars to cease.
Whose footsteps Bladud following, in artes
Exceld at Athens all the learned preace,
From whēce he brought them to these saluage parts
And with sweet science mollifide their stubborne harts.
Ensample of his wondrous faculty,
Behold the boyling Bathes at Cairbadon,
Which seeth with secret fire eternally,
And in their entrailles, full of quick Brimston,
Nourish the flames, which they are warmd vpon,
That to her people wealth they forth do well,
And health to euery forreyne nation:
Yet he at last contending to excell
The reach of men, through flight into fond mischieffell.
Next him king Leyr in happie peace long raynd,
But had no issue male him to succeed,
But three faire daughters, which were well vptraind,
In all that seemed fitt for kingly seed:
Mongst whom his realme he equally decreed
To haue diuided. Tho when feeble age
Nigh to his vtmost date he saw proceed,
He cald his daughters; and with speeches sage
[...], which of them most did loue her parentage.
The eldest Gonorill gan to protest,
That she much more then her owne life him lou'd:
And Regan greater loue to him profest,
Then all the world, when euer it were proou'd;
But Cordeill said she lou'd him, as behoou'd:
Whose simple answere, wanting colours fayre
To paint it forth,, him to displeasaunce moou'd,
That in his crown he counted her no hayre,
But twixt the other twain his kingdom whole did shayre.
So wedded th'one to Maglan king of Scottes,
And thother to the king of Cambria,
And twixt them shayrd his realme by equall lottes:
But without dowre the wise Cordelia,
Was sent to Aggannip of Celtica
Their aged Syre, thus eased of his crowne,
A priuate life ledd in Albania,
With Gonorill, long had in great renowne,
That nought him grieu'd to beene from rule deposed downe.
But true it is that when the oyle is spent,
The light goes out, and weeke is throwne away;
So when he had resignd his regiment,
His daughter gan despise his drouping day,
And wearie wax of his continuall stay.
Tho to his daughter Regan he repayrd,
Who him at first well vsed euery way;
But when of his departure she despayrd,
Her bountie she abated, and his cheare empayrd.
The wretched man gan then auise to late,
That loue is not, where most it is profest,
Too truely tryde in his extremest state;
At last resolu'd likewise to proue the [...],
[Page 334]He to Cordelia him selfe addrest,
Who with entyre affection him receau'd,
As for her Syre and king her seemed best;
And after all au army strong she leau'd,
To war on those, which him had of his realme bereau'd
So to his crowne she him restord againe,
In which he dyde, made ripe for death by eld,
And after wild, it should to her remaine:
Who peaceably the same long time did weld:
And all mens harts in dew obedience held:
Till that her sisters children, woxen strong,
Through proud ambition against her rebeld,
And ouercommen kept in prison long,
Till weary of that wretched life, her selfe she hong.
Then gan the bloody brethren both to raine:
But fierce Cundah gan shortly to enuy
His brother Morgan, prickt with proud disdaine,
To haue a pere in part of souerainty,
And kindling coles of cruell enmity,
Raisd warre, and him in batteill ouerthrew:
Whence as he to those woody hilles did fly,
Which hight of him Glamorgan, there him slew:
Then did he raigne alone, when he none equall knew.
His sonne Riuall' his dead rowme did supply,
In whose sad time blood did from heauen rayne:
Next great Gurgustus, then faire Coecily,
In constant peace their kingdomes did contayne,
After whom Lago, and Kinmarke did rayne;
And Gorbogud, till far in yeares he grew:
Then his Ambitious sonnes vnto them twayne,
Arraught the rule, and from their father drew,
Stout Ferrex and sterne Porrex him in prison threw.
But O, the greedy thirst of royall crowne,
That knowes no kinred, nor regardes no right,
Stird Porrex vp to put his brother downe;
Who vnto him assembling forreigne might,
Made warre on him, and fell him selfe in fight:
Whose death t'auenge, his mother [...],
Most mercilesse of women, Wyden hight,
Her other sonne fast sleeping did oppresse,
And with most cruell hand him murdred pittilesse.
Here ended Brutus sacred progeny,
Which had seuen hundred yeares this scepter borne,
With high renowme, and great felicity;
The noble braunch from th'antique stocke was torne
Through discord, and the roiall throne forlorne:
Thenceforth this Realme was into factions rent,
Whilest each of Brutus boasted to be borne,
That in the end was left no moniment
Of Brutus, nor of Britons glorie auncient.
Then vp arose a man of matchlesse might,
And wondrous wit to menage high affayres,
Who stird with pitty of the stressed plight
Of this sad realme, cut into sondry shayres
By such, as claymd thēselues Brutes rightfull hayres,
Gathered the Princes of the people loose,
To taken counsell of their common cares;
Who with his wisedom won, him streight did choose
Their king, and swore him fealty to win or loose.
Then made he head against his enimies,
And Ymner slew, of Logris miscreate;
Then Ruddoc and proud Stater, both allyes,
This of Albany newly nominate,
[Page 336]And that of Cambry king confirmed late,
He ouerthrew through his owne valiaunce;
Whose countries he redus'd to quiet state,
And shortly brought to ciuile gouernaunce,
Now one, which earst were many, made through variaunce.
Then made he sacred lawes, which some men say
Were vnto him reueald in vision,
By which he freed the Traueilers high way,
The Churches part, and Ploughmans portion,
Restraining stealth, and strong extortion;
The gratious Numa of great Britany:
For till his dayes, the chiefe dominion
By strength was wielded without pollicy;
Therefore he first wore crowne of gold for dignity.
Donwallo dyde (for what may liue for ay?)
And left two sonnes, of pearelesse prowesse both;
That sacked Rome too dearely did assay,
The recompence of their periured oth,
And ransackt Greece wel tryde, whē they were wroth;
Besides subiected France, and Germany,
Which yet their praises speake, all be they [...],
And inly tremble at the memory
Of Brennus and Belinus, kinges of Britany.
Next them did Gurgiunt, great Belinus sonne
In rule succeede and eke in fathers praise;
He Easterland subdewd, and Denmarke wonne,
And of them both did [...] and tribute raise,
The which was dew in his dead fathers daies:
He also gaue to fugitiues of Spayne,
Whom he at sea found wandring from their waies,
A seate in Ireland safely to remayne,
Which they should hold of him, as subiect to Britayne.
After him raigned Guitheline his hayre,
The iustest man and trewest in his daies,
Who had to wife Dame Mertia the fayre,
A woman worthy of immortall praise,
Which for this Realme found many goodly layes,
And wholesome Statutes to her husband brought:
Her many deemd to haue beene of the Fayes,
As was Aegerie, that Numa tought:
Those yet of her be Mertiā lawes both nam'd & thought.
Her sonne Sifillus after her did rayne,
And then Kimarus, and then Danius;
Next whom Morindus did the crowne sustayne,
Who, had he not with wrath outrageous,
And cruell rancour dim'd his valorous
And mightie deedes, should matched haue the best:
As well in that same field victorious
Against the forreine Morands he exprest;
Yet liues his memorie, though carcas sleepe in rest.
Fiue sonnes he [...] begotten of one wife,
All which successiuely by turnes did rayne;
First Gorboman a man of vertuous life;
Next Archigald, who for his proud disdayne,
Deposed was from princedome souerayne,
And pitteous Elidure put in his sted;
Who shortly it to him restord agayne,
Till by his death he it recouered;
But Peridure and Vigent him disthronized.
In wretched prison long he did remaine,
Till they outraigned had their vtmost date,
And then therein reseized was againe,
And ruled long with honorable state,
[Page 338]Till he surrendred Realme and life to fate.
Then all the sonnes of these fiue brethren raynd
By dew successe, and all their Nephewes late,
Euen thrise eleuen descents the crowne retaynd,
Till aged Hely by dew heritage it gaynd.
He had two sonnes, whose eldest called Lud
Left of his life most famous memory,
And endlesse moniments of his great good:
The ruin'd wals he did reaedifye
Of Troynouant, gainst force of enimy,
And built that gate, which of his name is hight,
By which he lyes entombed solemnly.
He left two sonnes, too young to rule aright,
Androgeus and Tenantius, pictures of his might.
Whilst they were young, Cassibalane their Eme
Was by the people chosen in their sted,
Who on him tooke the roiall Diademe,
And goodly well long time it gouerned,
Till the prowde Romanes him disquieted,
And warlike Caesar, tempted with the name
Of this sweet Island, neuer conquered,
And enuying the Britons blazed fame,
(O hideous hunger of dominion) hether came.
Yet twise they were repulsed backe againe,
And twise renforst, backe to their ships to fly,
The whiles with blood they all the shore did staine,
And the gray Ocean into purple dy:
Ne had they footing found at last perdie,
Had not Androgeus, false to natiue soyle,
And enuious of Vncles soueraintie,
Betrayd his countrey vnto forreine spoyle:
Nought els, buttreason, from the first this land did foyle
So by him Caesar got the victory,
Through great bloodshed, and many a sad assay,
In which himselfe was charged heauily
Of hardy Nennius, whom he yet did slay,
But lost his sword, yet to be seene this day.
Thenceforth this land was tributarie made
T'ambitious Rome, and did their rule obay,
Till Arthur all that reckoning defrayd;
Yet oft the Briton kings against them strongly swayd.
Next him Tenantius raignd, then Kimbeline,
What time th'eternall Lord in fleshly slime
Enwombed was, from wretched Adams line
To purge away the guilt of sinfull crime:
O ioyous memorie of happy time,
That heauenly grace so plenteously displayd;
(O too high ditty for my simple rime.)
Soone after this the Romanes him warrayd;
For that their tribute he refusd to let be payd.
Good Claudius, that next was Emperour,
An army brought, and with him batteile fought,
In which the king was by a Treachetour
Disguised slaine, ere any thereof thought:
Yet ceased not the bloody fight for ought;
For Aruirage his brothers place supplyde,
Both in his armes, and crowne, and by that draught
Did driue the Romanes to the weaker syde,
That they to peace agreed. So all was pacifyde.
Was neuer king more highly magnifide,
Nor dredd of Romanes, then was Aruirage,
For which the Emperour to him allide
His daughter Genuiss' in marriage:
[Page 340]Yet shortly he renounst the vassallage
Of Rome againe, who hether hastly sent
Vespasian, that with great spoile and rage
Forwasted all, till Gen̄uissa gent
Persuaded him to ceasse, and her lord to relent.
He dide; and him succeeded Marius,
Who ioyd his dayes in great tranquillity.
Then Coyll, and after him good Lucius,
That first receiued Christianity,
The sacred pledge of Christes Euangely:
Yet true it is, that long before that day
Hither came Ioseph of Arimathy,
Who brought with him the holy grayle, (they say)
And preacht the truth; but since it [...] did decay.
This good king shortly without issew dide,
Whereof great trouble in the kingdome grew,
That did herselfe in sondry parts diuide,
And with her powre her owne selfe ouerthrew,
Whilest Romanes daily did the weake subdew:
Which seeing stout Bunduca, vp arose,
And taking armes, the Britons to her drew;
With whom she marched streight against her foes,
And them vnwares besides the Seuerne did enclose.
There she with them a cruell batteill tryde,
Not with so good successe, as shee deseru'd;
By reason that the Captaines on her syde,
Corrupted by Paulinus, from her sweru'd:
Yet such as were through former flight preseru'd,
Gathering againe, her Host she did renew,
And with fresh corage on the victor seru'd:
But being all defeated, saue a few,
Rather then fly, or becaptiu'd, her selfe she slew.
O famous moniment of womens prayse,
Matchable either to Semiramis,
Whom antique history so high doth rayse,
Or to Hypsiphil', or to Thomiris:
Her Host two hundred thousand numbred is;
Who whiles good fortune fauoured her might,
Triumphed oft against her enemis;
And yet though ouercome in haplesse fight,
Shee triumphed on death, in enemies despight.
Her reliques Fulgent hauing gathered,
Fought with Seuerus, and him ouerthrew;
Yet in the chace was slaine of them, that fled:
So made them victors, whome he did subdew.
Then gan Carausius tirannize anew,
And gainst the Romanes bent their proper powre,
But him Allectus treacherously slew,
And tooke on him the robe of Emperoure:
Nath'lesse the same enioyed but short happy howre:
For Asclepiodate him ouercame,
And left inglorious on the vanquisht playne,
Without or robe, or rag, to hide his shame.
[...] afterwards he in his stead did raigne;
But shortly was by Coyll in batteill slaine:
Who after long debate, since Lucies tyme,
Was of the Britons first crownd Soueraine:
Then gan this Realme renew her passed prime;
He of his name Coylchester built of stone and lime.
Which when the Romanes heard, they hether sent
Constantius, a man of mickle might,
With whome king Coyll made an agreement,
And to him gaue for wife his daughter bright.
[Page 342]Fayre Helena, the fairest liuing wight;
Who in all godly thewes, and goodly praise,
Did far excell, but was most famous hight
For skil in Musicke of all in her daies,
Aswell in curious instruments as cunning laies.
Of whom he did great Constantine begett,
Who afterward was Emperour of Rome;
To which whiles absent he his mind did sett,
Octauius here lept into his roome,
And it vsurped by vnrighteous doome:
But he his title iustifide by might,
Slaying Traherne, and hauing ouercome
The Romane legion in dreadfull fight:
So settled he his kingdome, and confirmd his right.
But wanting yssew male, his daughter deare,
He gaue in wedlocke to Maximian,
And him with her made of his kingdome heyre,
Who soone by meanes thereof the Empire wan,
Till murdred by the freends of Gratian,
Then gan the Hunnes and Picts inuade this land,
During the raigne of Maximinian;
Who dying left none heire them to withstand.
But that they ouerran all parts with easy hand.
The weary Britons, whose war-hable youth
Was by Maximian lately ledd away,
With wretched miseryes, and woefull ruth,
Were to those Pagans made an open pray,
And daily spectacle of sad decay:
Whome Romane warres, which now fowr hundred yeares,
And more had wasted, could no whit dismay;
Til by consent of Commons and of Peares,
They crownd the secōd Constantine with ioyous teares,
Who hauing oft in batteill vanquished
Those spoylefull Picts, and swarming Easterlings,
Long time in peace his realme established,
Yet oft annoyd with sondry bordragings.
Of neighbour Scots, and forrein Scatterlings,
With which the world did in those dayes abound:
Which to outbarre, with painefull pyonings
From sea to sea he heapt a mighty mound,
Which from Alcluid to Panwelt did that border bownd.
Three sonnes he dying left, all vnder age;
By meanes whereof, their vncle Vortigere
Vsurpt the crowne, during their pupillage;
Which th'Infants tutors gathering to feare,
Them closely into Armorick did beare:
For dread of whom, and for those Picts annoyes,
He sent to Germany, straunge aid to reare,
From whence eftsoones arriued here three hoyes
Of Saxons, whom he for his safety imployes.
Two brethren were their Capitayns, which hight
Hengist and Horsus, well approu'd in warre,
And both of them men of renowmed might;
Who making vantage of their ciuile iarre,
And of those forreyners, which came from farre,
Grew great, and got large portions of land,
That in the Realme ere long they stronger arre,
Then they which sought at first their helping hand,
And Vortiger haue forst the kingdome to aband.
But by the helpe of Vortimere his sonne,
He is againe vnto his rule restord,
And Hengist seeming sad, for that was donne,
Receiued is to grace and new accord,
[Page 344]Through his faire daughters face, & flattring word,
Soone after which, three hundred Lords he slew
Of British blood,, all sitting at his bord;
Whose dolefull moniments who list to rew,
Th'eternall marks of treason may at Stonheng vew.
By this the sonnes of Constantine, which fled,
Ambrose and Vther did ripe yeares attayne,
And here arriuing, strongly challenged
The crowne, which Vortiger did long detayne:
Who flying from his guilt, by them was slayne,
And Hengist eke soone brought to shamefull death.
Thenceforth Aurelius peaceably did rayne,
Till that through poyson stopped was his breath;
So now entombed lies at Stoneheng by the heath.
After him Vther, which Pendragon hight,
Succeeding There abruptly it did end,
Without full point, or other Cesure right,
As if the rest some wicked hand did rend,
Or th'Author selfe could not at least attend
To finish it: that so vntimely breach
The Prince him selfe halfe seemed to offend,
Yet secret pleasure did offence empeach,
And wonder of antiquity long stopt his speach.
At last quite rauisht with delight, to heare
The royall Ofspring of his natiue land,
Cryde out, Deare countrey, O how dearely deare
Ought thy remembraunce, and perpetual band
Be to thy foster Childe, thàt from thy hand
Did commun breath and nouriture receaue?
How brutish is it not to vnderstand,
How much to her we owe, that all vs gaue,
That gaue vnto vs all, what euer good we haue.
But Guyon all this while his booke did read,
Ne yet has ended: for it was a great
And ample volume, that doth far excead
My leasure, so long leaues here to repeat:
It told, how first Prometheus did create
A man, of many parts from beasts deryu'd,
And then stole fire from heuen, to animate
His worke, for which he was by Ioue depryu'd
Of life him self, and hart-strings of an Aegle ryu'd.
That man so made, he called Elfe, to weet
Quick, the first author of all Elfin kynd:
Who wandring through the world with wearie feet,
Did in the gardins of Adonis fynd
A goodly creature, whom he deemd in mynd
To be no earthly wight, but either Spright,
Or-Angell, th'authour of all woman kynd;
Therefore a Fay he her according hight,
Of whom all Faryes spring, & fetch their lignage right.
Of these a mighty people shortly grew,
And puissant kinges, which all the world warrayd,
And to them selues all Nations did subdew:
The first and eldest, which that scepter swayd,
Was Elfin; him all India obayd,
And all that now America men call:
Next him was noble Elfinan, who laid
Cleopolis foundation first of all:
But Elfiline enclosd it with a golden wall.
His sonne was Elfinell, who ouercame
The wicked Gobbelines in bloody field:
But Elfant was of most renowmed fame,
Who all of Christall did Panthea build:
[Page 346]Then Elfar, who two brethren gyauntes kild,
The one of which had two heades, th'other three:
Then Elfinor, who was in magick skild;
He built by art vpon the glassy See
A bridge of bras, whose sound heuēs thunder seem'd to bee.
He left three sonnes, the which in order raynd,
And all their Ofspring, in their dew descents,
Euen seuen hundred Princes, which maintaynd
With mightie deedes their sondry gouernments;
That were too long their infinite contents
Here to record, ne much materiall:
Yet should they be most famous moniments,
And braue ensample, both of martiall,
And ciuil rule to kinges and states imperiall.
After all these Elficleos did rayne,
The wise Elficleos in great Maiestie,
Who mightily that scepter did sustayne,
And with rich spoyles and famous victorie,
Did high aduaunce the crowne of Faery:
He left two sonnes, of which faire Elferon
The eldest brother did vntimely dy;
Whose emptie place the mightie Oberon
Doubly supplide, in spousall, and dominion.
Great was his power and glorie ouer all,
Which him before, that sacred seate did fill,
That yet remaines his wide memoriall:
He dying left the fairest Tanaquill,
Him to succeede therein, by his last will:
Fairer and nobler liueth none this howre,
Ne like in grace, ne like in learned skill;
Therefore they Glorian call that glorious flowre,
Long mayst thou Glorian liue, in glory & great powre.
Beguyld thus with delight of nouelties,
And naturall desire of countryes state,
So long they redd in those antiquities,
That how the time was fled, they quite forgate,
Till gentle Alma seeing it so late,
Perforce their studies broke, and them besought
To thinke, how supper did them long awaite.
So halfe vnwilling from their bookes them brought,
And fayrely feasted, as so noble knightes she ought.
Cant XI
The enimies of T emperaunce
besiege her dwelling place:
Prince Arthure them repelles, and fowle
Maleger doth deface.
WHat warre so cruel, or what siege so sore,
As that, which strong affections doe apply
Against the forte of reason euermore,
To bring the sowle into captiuity:
Their force is fiercer through infirmity
Of the fraile flesh, relenting to their rage,
And exercise most bitter tyranny
Vpon the partes, brought into their bondage:
No wretchednesse is like to sinfull vellenage.
But in a body which doth freely yeeld
His partes to reasons rule obedient,
And letteth her that ought the scepter weeld,
All happy peace and goodly gouernment
[Page 348]Is setled there in sure establishment,
There Alma like a virgin Queene most bright,
Doth florish in all beautie excellent:
And to her guestes doth bounteous banket dight,
Attempred goodly well for health and for delight.
Early before the Morne with cremosin ray,
The windowes of bright heauen opened had,
Through which into the world the dawning day
Might looke, that maketh euery creature glad,
Vprose Sir Guyon, in bright armour clad,
And to his purposd iourney him prepar'd:
With him the Palmer eke in habit sad,
Him selfe addrest to that aduenture hard:
So to the riuers syde they both together far'd.
Where them awaited ready at the ford
The Ferriman, as Alma had behight,
With his well rigged bore: They goe abord,
And he eftsoones gan launch his barke forthright.
Ere long they rowed were quite out of sight,
And fast the land behynd them fled away.
But let them pas, whiles winde and wether [...]
Doe serue their turnes: here I a while must stay,
To see a cruell fight doen by the prince this day.
For all so soone, as [...] thence was gon
Vpon his voyage with his trustie guyde,
That wicked band of villeins fresh begon
That castle to assaile on euery side,
And lay strong siege about it far and wyde.
So huge and infinite their numbers were,
That all the land they vnder them did hyde;
So fowle and vgly, that exceeding feare
Their visages imprest, when they approched neare.
Them in twelue troupes their Captein did dispart,
And round about in fittest steades did place,
Where each might best offend his proper part,
And his contrary obiect most deface,
As euery one seem'd meetest in that cace.
Seuen of the same against the Castle gate,
In strong entrenchments he did closely place,
Which with incessaunt force and endlesse hate,
They battred day and night, and entraunce did awate.
The other fine, fiue sondry wayes he sett,
Against the fiue great Bulwarkes of that pyle,
And vnto each a Bulwarke did arrett,
T'assayle with open force or hidden guyle,
In hope thereof to win victorious spoile.
They all that charge did feruently apply,
With greedie malice and importune toyle,
And planted there their huge artillery,
With which they dayly made most dreadfull battery.
The first troupe was a monstrous rablement
Of fowle misshapen wightes, of which some were
Headed like Owles, with beckes vncomely bent,
Others like Dogs, others like Gryphons dreare,
And some had wings, and some had clawes to teare,
And euery one of them had Lynces eyes,
And euery one did bow and arrowes beare:
All those were lawlesse lustes, corrupt enuyes,
And couetous aspects, all cruel enimyes.
Those same against the bulwarke of the Sight
Did lay strong siege, and battailous assault,
Ne once did yield it respitt day nor night,
But soone as Titan gan his head exault,
[Page 350]And soone againe as he his light withhault,
Their wicked engins they against it bent:
That is each thing, by which the eyes may fault,
But two then all more huge and violent,
Beautie, and money they against that Bulwarke lent.
The second Bulwarke was the Hearing sence,
Gainst which the second troupe assignment makes,
Deformed creatures, in straunge difference,
Some hauing heads like Harts, some like to Snakes,
Some like wilde Bores late rouzd out of the brakes,
Slaunderous reproches, and fowle infamies,
Leasinges, backbytinges, and vaineglorious crakes,
Bad counsels, prayses, and false flatteries,
All those against that fort did bend their batteries.
Likewise that same third Fort, that is the Smell
Of that third troupe was cruelly assayd:
Whose hideous shapes were like to feendes of hell,
Some like to houndes, some like to Apes, dismayd,
Some like to Puttockes, all in plumes arayd:
All shap't according their conditions,
For by those vgly formes weren pourtrayd,
Foolish delights and fond abusions,
Which doe that sence besiege with light illusions.
And that fourth band which cruell battry bent,
Against the fourth Bulwarke, that is the Taste,
Was as the rest a grysie rablement,
Some mouth'd like greedy Oystriges, some faste
Like loathly Toades, some fashioned in the waste
Like swine; for so deformd is luxury,
Surfeat, misdiet, and vnthriftie waste,
Vaine feastes, and ydle superfluity:
All those this sences Fort assayle incessantly.
But the fift troupe most horrible of hew,
And ferce of force, is dreadfull to report:
For some like Snailes, some did like spyders shew,
And some like vgly Vrchins thick and short:
Cruelly they assayed that fift Fort,
Armed with dartes of sensuall delight,
With stinges of carnall lust, and strong effort
Of feeling pleasures, with which day and night
Against that same fift bulwarke they continued fight.
Thus these twelue troupes with dreadfull puissaunce
Against that Castle restlesse siege did lay,
And euermore their hideous Ordinaunce
Vpon the Bulwarkes cruelly did play,
That now it gan to threaten neare decay.
And euermore their wicked Capitayn
Prouoked them the breaches to assay,
Somtimes with threats, somtimes with hope of gayn,
Which by the ransack of that peece they should attayn.
On th'other syde, th'assieged Castles ward
Their stedfast stonds did mightily maintaine,
And many bold repulse, and many hard
Atchieuement wrought with perill and with payne,
That goodly frame from ruine to sustaine:
And those two brethren Gyauntes did defend
The walles so stoutly with their sturdie mayne,
That neuer entraunce any durst pretend,
But they to direfull death their groning ghosts did send.
The noble Virgin, Ladie of the Place,
Was much dismayed with that dreadful sight:
For neuer was she in so euill cace,
Till that the Prince seeing her wofull plight,
[Page 352]Gan her recomfort from so sad affright,
Offring his seruice, and his dearest life
For her defence, against that Carle to fight,
Which was their chiefe and th'authour of that strife:
She him remercied as the Patrone of her life.
Estsoones himselfe in glitterand armes he dight,
And his well proued weapons to him hent;
So taking courteous conge he behight,
Those gates to be vnbar'd, and forth he went.
Fayre mote he thee, the prowest and most gent,
That euer brandished bright steele on hye:
Whom soone as that vnruly rablement,
With his gay Squyre issewing did espye,
They reard a most outrageous dreadfull yelling cry.
And therewithall attonce at him let fly
Their fluttring arrowes, thicke as flakes of snow,
And round about him Hocke impetuously,
Like a great water flood, that tombling low
From the high mountaines, threates to ouerflow
With suddein fury all the fertile playne,
And the sad husbandmans long hope doth throw,
A downe the streame and all his vowes make vayne,
Nor bounds nor banks his headlong ruine may sustayne.
Vpon his shield their heaped hayle he bore,
And with his sword disperst the raskall flockes,
Which fled a sonder, and him fell before,
As withered leaues drop from their dryed stockes,
Whē the wroth Western wind does reaue their locks,
And vnder neath him his courageous steed,
The fierce Spumador trode them downe like docks,
The fierce Spumador borne of heauenly seed:
Such as Laomedon of Phaebus race did breed
Which suddeine horrour and confused cry,
When as their Capteine heard, in haste he yode,
The cause to weet, and fault to remedy,
Vpon a Tygre swift and fierce he rode,
That as the winde ran vnderneath his lode,
Whiles his long legs nigh raught vnto the ground,
Full large he was of limbe, and shoulders brode,
But of such subtile substance and vnsound,
That like a ghost he seem'd, whose graue-clothes were vnbound.
And in his hand a bended bow was seene,
And many arrowes vnder his right side,
All deadly daungerous, all cruell keene,
Headed with flint, and fethers bloody dide,
Such as the Indians in their quiuers hide,
Those could he well direct and streight as line,
And bid them strike the marke, which he had eyde,
Ne was their salue ne was their medicine,
That mote recure their wounds: so inly they did tine.
As pale and wan as ashes was his looke,
His body leane and meagre as a rake,
And skin all withered like a dryed rooke,
Thereto as cold and drery as a Snake,
That seemd to tremble euermore, and quake:
All in a canuas thin he was bedight,
And girded with a belt of twisted brake,
Vpon his head he wore an Helmet light,
Made of a dead mans skull, that seemd a ghastly sight.
Maleger was his name, and after him,
There follow'd fast at hand two wicked Hags,
With hoary lockes all loose, and visage grim;
Their feet vnshod, their bodies wrapt in rags,
[Page 354]And both as swift on foot, as chased Stags,
And yet the one her other legge had lame,
Which with a staffe, all full of litle snags
She did support, and Impotence her name:
But th'other was Impatience, arm'd with raging flame.
Soone as the Carle from far the Prince espyde,
Glistring in armes and warlike ornament,
His Beast he felly prickt on either syde,
And his mischieuous bow full readie bent,
With which at him a cruell shaft he sent:
But he was warie, and it warded well
Vpon his shield, that it no further went,
But to the ground the idle quarrell fell:
Then he another and another did expell.
Which to preuent, the Prince his mortall speare
Soone to him raught, and fierce at him did ride,
To be auenged of that shot whyleare:
But he was not so hardy to abide
That bitter stownd, but turning quicke aside
His light-foot beast, fled fast away for feare:
Whom to poursue, the Infant after hide,
So fast as his good Courser could him beare,
But labour lost it was, to weene approch him neare.
For as the winged wind his Tigre fled,
That vew of eye could scarse him ouertake,
Ne scarse his feet on ground were seene to tred;
Through hils and dales he speedy way did make,
Ne hedge ne ditch his readie passage brake,
And in his flight the villein turn'd his face,
(As wonts the Tartar by the Caspian lake,
When as the Russian him in fight does chace)
Vnto his Tygres taile, and shot at him apace.
Apace he shot, and yet he fled apace,
Still as the greedy knight nigh to him drew,
And oftentimes he would relent his pace,
That him his foe more fiercely should poursew:
But when his vncouth manner he did vew,
He gan auize to follow him no more,
But keepe his standing, and his shaftes eschew,
Vntill he quite had spent his perlous store,
And then assayle him fresh, ere he could shift for more.
But that lame Hag, still as abroad he strew
His wicked arrowes, gathered them againe,
And to him brought fresh batteill to renew:
Which he espying, cast her to restraine
From yielding succour to that cursed Swaine,
And her attaching, thought her hands to tye;
But soone as him dismounted on the plaine,
That other Hag did far away espye
Binding her sister, she to him ran hastily.
And catching hold of him, as downe he lent,
Him backeward ouerthrew, and downe him stayd
With their rude handes and gryesly graplement,
Till that the villein comming to their ayd,
Vpon him fell, and lode vpon him layd;
Full litle wanted, but he had him slaine,
And of the battell balefull end had made,
Had not his gentle Squire beheld his paine,
And commen to his reskew, ere his bitter bane.
So greatest and most glorious thing on ground
May often need the helpe of weaker hand;
So feeble is mans state, and life vnsound,
That in assuraunce it may neuer stand,
[Page 356]Till it dissolued be from earthly band.
Proofe be thou Prince, the prowest man alyue,
And noblest borne of all in Britom land,
Yet thee fierce Fortune did so nearely driue,
That had not grace thee blest, thou shouldest not reuiue.
The Squyre arriuing, fiercely in his armes
Snatcht first the one, and then the other Iade,
His chiefest letts and authors of his harmes,
And them perforce withheld with threatned blade,
Least that his Lord they should behinde inuade;
The whiles the Prince prickt with reprochful shame,
As one awakte out of long slombring shade,
Reuiuyng thought of glory and of fame,
Vnited all his powres to purge him selfe from blame.
Like as a fire, the which in hollow caue
Hath long bene vnderkept, and down supprest,
With murmurous disdayne doth inly raue,
And grudge, in so streight prison to be prest,
At last breakes forth with furious infest,
And striues to mount vnto his natiue seat;
All that did earst it hinder and molest,
Yt now deuoures with flames and scorching heat,
And carries into smoake with rage and horror great.
So mightely the Briton Prince him rouzd
Out of his holde, and broke his caytiue bands,
And as a Beare whom angry curres haue touzd,
Hauing off-shakt them, and escapt their hands,
Becomes more fell, and all that him with stands
Treads down and ouerthrowes. Now had the Carle
Alighted from his Tigre, and his hands
Discharged of his bow and deadly quar'le,
To seize vpon his foe flatt lying on the marle.
Which now him turnd to disauantage deare,
For neither can he fly, nor other harme,
But trust vnto his strength and manhood meare,
Sith now he is far from his monstrous swarme,
And of his weapons did him selfe disarme.
The knight yet wrothfull for his late disgrace,
Fiercely aduaunst his valorous right arme,
And him so sore smott with his yron mace,
That groueling to the ground he fell, and fild his place.
Wel weened hee, that field was then his owne,
And all his labor brought to happy end,
When suddein vp the villeine ouerthrowne,
Out of his swowne arose, fresh to contend,
And gan him selfe to second battaill bend,
As hurt he had not beene. Thereby there lay
An huge great stone, which stood vpon one end,
And had not bene remoued many a day;
Some land-marke seemd to bee, or signe of sundry way.
The same he snatcht, and with exceeding sway
Threw at his foe, who was right well aware
To shonne the engin of his meant decay;
It booted not to thinke that throw to beare,
But grownd he gaue, and lightly lept areare:
Efte fierce retourning, as a faulcon fayre
That once hath failed of her souse full neare,
Remounts againe into the open ayre,
And vnto better fortune doth her selfe prepayre.
So braue retourning, with his brandisht blade,
He to the Carle him selfe agayn addrest,
And strooke at him so sternely, that he made
An open passage through his riuen brest,
[Page 358]That halfe the steele behind his backe did rest;
Which drawing backe, he looked euer more
When the hart blood should gush out of his chest,
Or his dead corse should fall vpon the flore;
But his dead corse vpon the flore fell nathemore.
Ne drop of blood appeared shed to bee,
All were the wownd so wide and wonderous,
That through his carcas one might playnly see:
Halfe in amaze with horror hideous,
And halfe in rage, to be deluded thus,
Again through both the sides he strooke him quight,
That made his spright to grone full piteous:
Yet nathemore forth fled his groning spright,
But freshly as at first, prepard himselfe to fight.
Thereat he smitten was with great affright,
And trembling terror did his hart apall,
Ne wist he, what to thinke of that same sight,
Ne what to say, ne what to doe at all;
He doubted, least it were some magicall
Illusion, that did beguile his sense,
Or wandring ghost, that wanted funerall,
Or aery spirite vnder false pretence,
Or hellish feend raysd vp through diuelish science.
His wonder far exceeded reasons reach,
That he began to doubt his dazeled sight,
And oft of error did him selfe appeach:
Flesh without blood, a person without spright,
Wounds without hurt, a body without might,
That could doe harme, yet could not harmed bee,
That could not die, yet seemd a mortall wight,
That was most strong in most infirmitee;
Like did he neuer heare, like did he neuer see.
A while he stood in this astonishment,
Yet would he not for all his great dismay
Giue ouer to effect his first intent,
And th'vtmost meanes of victory assay,
Or th'vtmost yssew of his owne decay.
His owne good sword Mordure, that neuer fayld
At need, till now he lightly threw away,
And his bright shield, that nought him now auayld,
And with his naked hands him forcibly assayld.
Twixt his two mighty armes him vp he snatcht,
And crusht his carcas so against his brest,
That the disdainfull sowle he thence dispatcht,
And th'ydle breath all vtterly exprest:
Tho when he felt him dead, [...] he kest
The lumpish corse vnto the sencelesse grownd,
Adowne he kest it with so [...] wrest,
That backe againe it did [...] rebownd,
And gaue against his mother earth a gronefull sownd.
As when Ioues harnesse-bearing Bird from hye
Stoupes at a flying heron with proud disdayne,
The stone-dead quarrey falls so forciblye,
That yt rebownds against the lowly playne,
A second fall redoubling backe agayne.
Then thought the Prince all peril sure was past,
And that he victor onely did remayne;
No sooner thought, then that the Carle as fast
Gan heap huge strokes on him, as ere he down was cast.
Nigh his wits end then woxe th'amazed knight,
And thought his labor lost and trauell vayne,
Against his lifelesse shadow so to fight:
Yet life he saw, and felt his mighty mayne,
[Page 360]That whiles he [...] still, did still him payne:
For thy he gan some other wayes aduize,
How to take life from that dead-liuing swayne,
Whom still he marked freshly to arize
From th'earth, & from her womb new spirits to reprize.
He then remembred well, that had bene sayd,
How th'Earth his mother was, and first him bore,
Shee eke so often, as his life decayd,
Did life with vsury to him restore,
And reysd him vp much stronger then before,
So soone as he vnto her wombe did fall;
Therefore to grownd [...] would him cast no more,
Ne him committ to graue terrestriall,
But beare him farre from hope of succour vsuall.
Tho vp he caught him twixt his puissant hands,
And hauing [...] out of his carrion corse
The [...] full life, now loofd from sinfull bands,
Vpon his shoulders carried him perforse
Aboue three [...], taking his full course,
Vntill he came vnto a standing lake;
Him thereinto he threw without remorse,
Ne stird, till hope of life did him forsake;
So end of that Carles dayes, and his owne paynes did make.
Which when those wicked Hags from far did spye,
Like two mad dogs they ran about the lands,
And th'one of them with dreadfull yelling crye,
Throwing away her broken chaines and bands,
And [...] quencht her burning fier brands,
Hedlong her [...] did [...] into that lake;
But Impotenee with her owne wilfull hands,
One of Malegers cursed darts did take,
So ryu'd her trembling hart, and wicked end did make.
Thus now alone he conquerour remaines;
Tho cumming to his Squyre, that kept his steed,
Thought to haue mounted, but his feeble vaines
Him faild thereto, and serued not his need,
Through losse of blood, which from his wounds did bleed,
That he began to faint, and life decay:
But his good Squyre him helping vp with speed,
With stedfast hand vpon his horse did stay,
And led him to the Castle by the beaten way.
Where many Groomes and Squyres ready were,
To take him from his steed full tenderly,
And eke the fayrest Alma mett him there
With balme and wine and costly spicery,
To comfort him in his infirmity;
Eftesoones shee causd him vp to be conuayd,
And of his armes despoyled easily,
In sumptuons bed shee made him to be layd,
And al the while his woūds were dressing, by him stayd
Cant. XII.
Guyon through Palmers gouernaunce,
through passing perilles great,
Doth ouerthrow the Bowre of blis,
and Acrasy defeat.
NOw ginnes this goodly frame of Temperaunce
Fayrely to rise, and her adorned hed
To pricke of highest prayse forth to aduaunce,
Formerly grounded, and fast setteled
On firme foundation of true bountyhed;
And this braue knight, that for this vertue fightes,
Now comes to point of that same perilous sted,
Where Pleasure dwelles in sensuall delights,
Mongst thousand dagers, & ten thousād Magick mights.
Two dayes now in that sea he sayled has,
Ne euer land beheld, ne liuing wight,
Ne ought saue perill, still as he did pas:
Tho when appeared the third Morrow bright,
Vpon the waues to spred her trembling light,
An hideous roring far away they heard,
That all their sences filled with affright,
And streight they saw the raging surges reard
Vp to the skyes, that them of drowning made affeard.
Said then the Boteman, Palmer stere aright,
And keepe an euen course; for yonder way
We needes must pas (God doe vs well acquight,)
That is the Gulfe of Greedinesse, they say,
[Page 363]That deepe engorgeth all this worldes pray:
Which hauing swallowd vp excessiuely,
He soone in vomit vp againe doth lay,
And belcheth forth his superfluity,
That all the seas for feare did seeme away to fly.
On thother syde an hideous Rock is pight,
Of mightie Magnes stone, whose craggie clift
Depending from on high, dreadfull to sight,
Ouer the waues his rugged armes doth lift,
And threatneth downe to throw his ragged rift,
On whoso cometh nigh; yet nigh it drawes
All passengers, that none from it can shift:
For whiles they fly that Gulfes deuouring iawes,
They on this Rock are rent, and sunck in helples wawes.
Forward they passe, and strongly he them rowes,
Vntill they nigh vnto that Gulfe arryue,
Where streame more violent and greedy growes:
Then he with all his puisaunce doth stryue
To strike his oares, and mightily doth dryue
The hollow vessell through the threatfull waue,
Which gaping wide, to swallow them alyue,
In th'huge abysse of his engulfing graue,
Doth rore at them in vaine, and with great terrour raue.
They passing by, that grisely mouth did see,
Sucking the seas into his entralles deepe,
That seemd more horrible then hell to bee,
Or that darke dreadfull hole of Tartare steepe,
Through which the damned ghosts doen often creep
Backe to the world, bad liuers to torment:
But nought that falles into this direfull deepe,
Ne that approcheth nigh the wyde descent,
May backe retourne, but is condemned to be drent.
On thother side, they saw that perilous Rocke,
Threatning it selfe on them to ruinate,
On whose sharp cliftes the ribs of vessels broke,
And shiuered ships, which had beene wrecked late,
Yet stuck, with carcases exanimate
Of such, as hauing all their substance spent
In wanton ioyes, and lustes intemperate,
Did after wardes make shipwrack violent,
Both of their life, and fame for euer fowly blent.
For thy this hight The Rock of vile Reproch,
A daungerous and detestable place,
To which nor fish nor fowle did once approch,
But yelling Meawes, with Seagulles hoars and bace,
And Cormoyraunts, with birds of rauenous race,
Which still sat weiting on that wastfull clift,
For spoile of wretches, whose vnhappy cace,
After lost credit and consumed thrift,
At last them driuen hath to this despairefull drift,
The Palmer seeing them in safetie past,
Thus saide, behold th'ensamples in our sightes,
Of lustfull luxurie and thriftlesse wast:
What now is left of miserable wightes,
Which spent their looser daies in leud delightes,
But shame and sad reproch, here to be red,
By these rent reliques, speaking their ill plightes?
Let all that liue, hereby be counselled,
To shunne Rock of Reproch and it as death to dread.
So forth they rowed, and that Ferryman
With his stiffe oares did brush the sea so strong,
That the hoare waters from his frigotran,
And the light bubles daunced all along,
[Page 365]Whiles the salt brine out of the billowes sprong.
At last far off they many Islandes spy,
On euery side floting the floodes emong:
Then said the knight, Lo I the land descry,
Therefore old Syre thy course doe thereunto apply.
That may not bee, said then the Ferryman
Least wee vnweeting hap to be fordonne:
For those same Islands, seeming now and than,
Are not firme land, nor any certein wonne,
But stragling plots, which to and fro doe ronne
In the wide waters: therefore are they hight
The wandring Islands. Therefore doe them shonne;
For they haue ofte drawne many a wandring wight
Into most deadly daunger and distressed plight.
Yet well they seeme to him, that farre doth vew,
Both faire and fruitfull, and the grownd dispred,
With grassy greene of delectable hew,
And the tall trees with leaues appareled,
Are deckt with blossoms dyde in white and red,
That mote the passengers thereto allure;
But whosoeuer once hath fastened
His foot thereon, may neuer it recure,
But wandreth euer more vncertein and vnsure.
As th'Isle of Delos whylome men report
Amid th' [...] sea long time did stray,
Ne made for shipping any certeine port,
Till that Latona traueiling that way,
Flying from Iunoes wrath and hard assay,
Of her fayre twins was there deliuered,
Which afterwards did rule the night and day;
Thenceforth it firmely was established,
And for Apolloes temple highly her ried.
They to him hearken, as beseemeth meete,
And passe on forward: so their way does ly,
That one of those same Islands, which doe fleet
In the wide sea, they needes must passen by,
Which seemd so sweet and pleasaunt to the eye,
That it would tempt a man to touchen there:
Vpon the banck they sitting did espy
A daintie damsell, dressing of her heare,
By whom a little skippet floting did appeare.
She them espying, loud to them can call,
Bidding them nigher draw vnto the shore;
For she had cause to busie them withall;
And therewith lowdly laught: But nathemore
Would they once turne, but kept on as afore:
Which when she saw, she left her lockes vndight,
And running to her boat wihtouten ore,
From the departing land it launched light,
And after them did driue with all her power and might.
Whom ouertaking, she in merry sort
Them gan to bord, and purpose diuersly,
Now faining dalliaunce and wanton sport,
Now throwing forth lewd wordes immodestly;
Till that the Palmer gan full bitterly
Her to rebuke, for being loose and light:
Which not abiding, but more scornfully
Scoffing at him, that did her iustly wite,
She turnd her bote about, and from them rowed quite.
That was the wanton Phoedria, which late
Did ferry him ouer the Idle lake:
Whom nought regarding, they kept on their [...],
And all her vaine allurements did forsake,
[Page 367]When them the wary Boteman thus bespake;
Here now behoueth vs well to auyse,
And of our safety good heede to take;
For here before a perlous passage lyes,
Where many Mermayds haunt, making false melodies.
But by the way, there is a great Quicksand,
And a whirlepoole of hidden ieopardy,
Therefore, Sir Palmer, keepe an euen hand;
For twixt them both the narrow way doth ly.
Scarse had he saide, when hard at hand they spy
That quicksand nigh with water couered;
But by the checked waue they did descry
It plaine, and by the sea discoloured:
It called was the quickesand of Vnthriftyhed.
They passing by, a goodly Ship did see,
Laden from far with precious merchandize,
And brauely furnished, as ship might bee,
Which through great disauenture, or mesprize,
Her selfe had ronne into that hazardize;
Whose mariners and merchants with much toyle,
Labour'd in vaine, to haue recur'd their prize,
And the rich wares to saue from pitteous spoyle,
But neither toyle nor traueill might her backe recoyle.
On th'other side they see that perilous Poole,
That called was the Whirlepoole of decay,
In which full many had with haplesse doole
Beene suncke, of whom no memorie did stay:
Whose circled waters rapt with whirling sway,
Like to a restlesse wheele, still [...] round,
Did couet, as they passed by that way,
To draw their bote within the vtmost bound
Of his wide Labyrinth, and then to haue them dround.
But th'earnest Boteman strongly forth did stretch
His brawnie armes, and all his bodie straine,
That th'vtmost sandy breach they shortly fetch,
Whiles the dredd daunger does behind remaine.
Suddeine they see from midst of all the Maine,
The surging waters like a mountaine rise,
And the great sea puft vp with proud disdaine,
To swell aboue the measure of his guise,
As threatning to deuoure all, that his powre despise.
The waues come rolling, and the billowes rore
Outragiously, as they enraged were,
Or wrathfull Neptune did them driue before
His whirling charet, for exceeding feare:
For not one puffe of winde there did appeare,
That all the three thereat woxe much afrayd,
Vnweeting, what such horrour straunge did reare.
[...] they saw an hideous hoast arrayd,
Of huge Sea monsters, such as liuing sence dismayd.
Most vgly shapes, and horrible aspects,
Such as Dame Nature selfe mote feare to see,
Or shame, that euer should so fowle defects
From her most cunning hand escaped bee;
All dreadfull [...] of deformitee:
Spring-headed Hydres, and sea-shouldring Whales,
Great whirlpooles, which all fishes make to flee,
Bright Scolopendraes, arm'd with siluer scales,
Mighty Monoceros, with immeasured tayles.
The dreadfull Fish, that hath deseru'd the name
Of Death, and like him lookes in dreadfull hew,
The griesly Wasserman, that makes his game
The flying ships with swiftnes to pursew,
[Page 369]The horrible Sea-satyre, that doth shew
His fearefull face in time of greatest storme,
Huge Ziffius, whom Mariners eschew
No lesse, then rockes, (as trauellers informe,)
And greedy Rosmarines with visages deforme.
All these, and thousand thousands many more,
And more deformed Monsters thousand fold,
With dreadfull noise, and hollow rombling rore,
Came rushing in the fomy waues enrold,
Which seem'd to fly for feare, them to behold:
Ne wonder, if these did the knight appall;
For all that here on earth we dreadfull hold,
Be but as bugs to fearen babes withall,
Compared to the creatures in the seas entrall.
Feare nought, then saide the Palmer well auiz'd;
For these same Monsters are not these in deed,
But are into these fearefull shapes disguiz'd
By that same wicked witch, to worke vs dreed,
And draw from on this iourney to proceed.
Tho lifting vp his vertuous staffe on hye,
He smote the sea, which calmed was with speed,
And all that dreadfull Armie fast gan flye
Into great Tethys bosome, where they hidden lye.
Quit from that danger, forth their course they kept,
And as they went, they heard a ruefull cry
Of one, that wayld and pittifully wept,
That through the sea the resounding plaints did fly:
At last they in an Island did espy
A seemely Maiden, sitting by the shore,
That with great sorrow and sad agony,
Seemed some great misfortune to deplore,
And lowd to them for succour called euermore.
Which Guyon hearing, streight his Palmer bad,
To stere the bote towards that dolefull Mayd,
That he might know, and ease her sorrow sad:
Who him auizing better, to him sayd;
Faire Sir, be not displeasd if disobayd:
For ill it were to hearken to her cry;
For she is inly nothing ill apayd,
But onely womanish fine forgery,
Your stubborne hart t'affect with fraile infirmity.
To which when she your courage hath inclind
Through foolish pitty, then her guilefull bayt
She will embosome deeper in your mind,
And for your ruine at the last awayt.
The Knight was ruled, and the Boteman strayt
Held on his course with stayed stedfastnesse,
Ne euer shroncke, ne euer sought to bayt
His tyred armes for toylesome wearinesse,
But with his oares did sweepe the watry wildernesse.
And now they nigh approched to the sted,
Where as those Mermayds dwelt: it was a still
And calmy bay, on th'one side sheltered
With the brode shadow of an hoarie hill,
On th'other side an high rocke toured still,
That twixt them both a pleasaunt port they made,
And did like an halfe Theatre fulfill:
There those fiue sisters had continuall trade,
And vsd to bath themselues in that deceiptfull shade.
They were faire Ladies, till they fondly striu'd
With th'Heliconian maides for maystery;
Of whom they ouer-comen, were depriu'd
Of their proud beautie, and th'one moyity
[Page 371]Transformd to fish, for their bold surquedry,
But th'vpper halfe their hew retayned still,
And their sweet skill in wonted melody;
Which euer after they abusd to ill,
T'allure weake traueillers, whom gotten they did kill.
So now to Guyon, as he passed by,
Their pleasaunt tunes they sweetly thus applyde;
O thou fayre sonne of gentle Faery,
That art in mightie armes most magnifyde
Aboue all knights, that euer batteill tryde,
O turne thy rudder hetherward a while:
Here may thy storme-bett vessell safely ryde;
This is the Port of rest from troublous toyle,
The worldes sweet In, frō paine & wearisome turmoyle.
With that the rolling sea resounding soft,
In his big base them fitly answered,
And on the rocke the waues breaking aloft,
A solemne Meane vnto them measured,
The whiles sweet Zephyrus lowd whisteled
His treble, a straunge kinde of harmony;
Which Guyons senses softly tickeled,
That he the boteman bad row easily,
And let him heare some part of their rare melody.
But him the Palmer from that vanity,
With temperate aduice discounselled,
That they it past, and shortly gan descry
The land, to which their course they leueled;
When suddeinly a grosse fog ouer spred
With his dull vapour all that desert has,
And heauens chearefull face enueloped,
That all things one, and one as nothing was,
And this great Vniuerse seemd one confused mas.
Thereat they greatly were dismayd, ne wist
How to direct theyr way in darkenes wide,
But feard to wander [...] that wastefull mist,
For tombling into mischiefe vnespide.
Worse is the daunger hidden, then descride.
Suddeinly an innumerable flight
Of harmefull fowles about them fluttering, cride,
And with their wicked wings them ofte did smight,
And sore annoyed, groping in that griesly night.
Euen all the nation of vnfortunate
And fatall birds about them flocked were,
Such as by nature men abhorre and hate,
The ill-faste Owle, deaths dreadfull messengere,
The hoars Night-rauen, trump of dolefull drere,
The lether-winged Batt, dayes enimy,
The ruefull Strich, still waiting on the bere,
The whistler shrill, that who so heares, doth dy,
The hellish Harpyes, prophets of sad destiny.
All those, and all that els does horror breed,
About them flew, and fild their sayles with feare:
Yet stayd they not, hut forward did proceed,
Whiles th'one did row, and th'other stifly steare;
Till that at last the weather gan to cleare,
And the faire land it selfe did playnly sheow.
Said then the Palmer Lo where does appeare
The sacred soile, where all our perills grow;
Therfore, Sir knight, your ready arms about you throw.
He hearkned, and his armes about him tooke,
The whiles the nimble bote so well her sped,
That with her crooked keele the land she strooke,
Then forth the noble Guyou sallied,
[Page 373]And his sage Palmer, that him gouerned;
But th'other by his bote behind did stay.
They marched fayrly forth, of nought ydred,
Both firmely armd for euery hard assay,
With constancy and care, gainst daunger and dismay.
Ere long they heard an hideous bellowing
Of many beasts, that roard outrageously,
As if that hungers poynt, or Venus sting
Had them enraged with fell surquedry;
Yet nought they feard, but past on hardily,
Vntill they came in vew of those wilde beasts:
Who all attonce, gaping full greedily,
And rearing fercely their vpstaring crests,
Ran towards, to deuoure those vnexpected guests.
But soone as they approcht with deadly threat,
The Palmer ouer them his staffe vpheld,
His mighty staffe, that could all charmes defeat:
Eftesoones their stubborne corages were queld,
And high aduaunced crests downe meekely feld,
Instead of fraying, they them selues did feare,
And trembled, as them passing they beheld:
Such wondrous powre did in that staffe appeare,
All monsters to subdew to him, that did it beare.
Of that same wood it fram'd was cunningly,
Of which Caduceus whilome was made,
Caduceus the rod of Mercury,
With which he wonts the Stygian realmes inuade,
Through ghastly horror, and eternall shade;
Th'infernall feends with it he can asswage,
And Orcus tame, whome nothing can persuade,
And rule the Furyes, when they most doe rage:
Such vertue in his staffe had eke this Palmer sage.
Thence passing forth, they shortly doe arryue,
Whereas the Bowre of Blisse was situate;
A place pickt out by choyce of best alyue,
That natures worke by art can imitate:
In which what euer in this worldly state
Is sweete, and pleasing vnto liuing sense,
Or that may dayntest fantasy aggrate,
Was poured forth with plentifull dispence,
And made there to abound with lauish affluence.
Goodly it was enclosed rownd about,
Aswell iheir entred guestes to keep within,
As those vnruly beasts to hold without;
Yet was the fence thereof but weake and thin;
Nought feard theyr force, that fortilage to win,
But wisedomes powre, and temperaunces might,
By which the migtest things efforced bin:
And eke the gate was wrought of substaunce light,
Rather for pleasure, then for battery or fight.
Yt framed was of precious yuory,
That seemd a worke of admirable witt;
And therein all the famous history
Of Iason and Medaea was ywritt;
Her mighty charmes, her furious louing fitt,
His goodly conquest of the golden fleece,
His falsed fayth, and loue too lightly flitt,
The wondred Argo, which in venturous peece
First through the Euxine seas bore all the flowr of Greece.
Ye might haue seene the frothy billowes fry
Vnder the ship, as thorough them she went,
That seemd the waues were into yuory,
Or yuory into the waues were sent;
[Page 375]And otherwhere the snowy substaunce sprent
With vermell, like the boyes blood therein shed,
A piteous spectacle did represent,
And otherwhiles with gold besprinkeled;
Yt seemd then chaunted flame, which did Creusa wed.
All this, and more might in that goodly gate
Be red; that euer open stood to all,
Which thether came: but in the Porch their sate
A comely personage of stature tall,
And semblaunce pleasing, more then naturall,
That traueilers to him seemd to entize;
His looser garment to the ground did fall,
And flew about his heeles in wanton wize,
Not fitt for speedy pace, or manly exercize.
They in that place him Genius did call:
Not that celestiall powre, to whom the care
Of life, and generation of all
That liues, perteines in charge particulare,
Who wondrous things concerning our welfare,
And straunge phantomes doth lett vs ofte forsee,
And ofte of secret ill bids vs beware:
That is our Selfe, whom though we doe not see,
Yet each doth in him selfe it well perceiue to bee.
Therefore a God him sage Antiquity
Did wisely make, and good Agdistes call:
But this same was to that quite contrary,
The foe of life, that good enuyes to all,
That secretly doth vs procure to fall,
Through guilefull semblants, which he makes vs see.
He oft his Gardin had the gouernall,
And Pleasures porter was deuizd to bee,
Holding a stafle in hand for more formalitee
With diuerse flowres he daintily was deckt,
And strowed rownd about, and by his side
A mighty Mazer bowle of wine was sett,
As if it had to him bene sacrifide;
Wherewith all new-come guests he gratyfide:
So did he eke Sir Guyon passing by:
But he his ydle curtesie defide,
And ouerthrew his bowle disdainfully;
And broke his staffe, with which he charmed semblantssly.
Thus being entred, they behold arownd
A large and spacious plaine, on euery side
Strowed with pleasauns, whose fayre grassy grownd
Mantled with greene, and goodly beautifide
With all the [...] of Floraes pride,
Wherewith her mother Art, as halfe in scorne
Of niggard Nature, like a pompous bride
Did decke her, and too lauishly adorne,
When forth from virgin bowte she comes in th'early morne.
Therewith [...] Heauens alwayes Iouiall,
Lookte on them louely, still in stedfast state,
Ne fuffred storme nor frost on them to fall,
Their tender buds or leaues to violate,
Nor scorching heat, nor cold intemperate
T'afflict the creatures, which therein did dwell,
But the milde ayre with season moderate
Gently attempred, and disposd so well,
That still it breathed forth sweet spirit & holesom smell.
More sweet and holesome, then the pleasaunt hill
Of Rhodope, on which the Nimphe, that bore
A gyaunt babe, her selfe for griefe did kill:
Or the Thessalian Tempe, where of yore
[Page 377]Fayre Daphne Phoebus hart with loue did gore;
Or Ida, where the Gods lou'd to repayre,
When euer they their heauenly bowres forlore;
Or sweet Parnasse, the haunt of Muses fayre;
Or Eden selfe, if ought with Eden mote compayre.
Much wondred Guyon at the fayre aspect
Of that sweet place, yet suffred no delight
To sincke into his sence, nor mind affect,
But passed forth, and lookt still forward right,
Brydling his will, and maystering his might:
Till that he came vnto another gate,
No gate, but like one, being goodly dight
With bowes and braunches, which did broad dilate
Their clasping armes, in wanton wreathings intricate.
So fashioned a Porch with rare deuice,
Archt ouer head with an embracing vine,
Whose bounches hanging downe, seemd to entice
All passers by, to taste their lushious wine,
And did them selues into their hands incline,
As freely offering to be gathered:
Some deepe empurpled as the Hyacine,
Some as the Rubine, laughing sweetely red,
Some like faire Emeraudes, not yet well ripened.
And them amongst, some were of burnisht gold,
So made by art, to beautify the rest,
Which did themselues emongst the leaues enfold,
As lurking from the vew of couetous guest,
That the weake boughes, with so rich load opprest,
Did bow adowne, as ouerburdened.
Vnder that Porch a comely dame did rest,
Clad in fayre weedes, but fowle disordered,
And garments loose, that seemd vnmeet for womanhed.
In her left hand a Cup of gold she held,
And with her right the riper fruit did reach,
Whose sappy liquor, that with fulnesse sweld,
Into her cup she scruzd, with daintie breach
Of her fine fingers, without fowle empeach,
That so faire winepresse made the wine more sweet:
Thereof she vsd to giue to drinke to each,
Whom passing by she happened to meet:
It was her guise, all Straungers goodly so to greet.
So she to Guyon offred it to tast,
Who taking it out of her tender hond,
The cup to ground did violently cast,
That all in peeces it was broken fond,
And with the liquor stained all the lond:
Whereat Excesse exceedinly was wroth,
Yet no'te the same amend, ne yet withstond,
But suffered him to passe, all were she loth;
Who nought regarding her displeasure forward goth.
There the most daintie Paradise on ground,
It selfe doth offer to his sobcr eye,
In which all pleasures plenteously abownd,
And none does others happinesse ennye:
The painted flowres, the trees vpshooting hye,
The dales for shade, the hilles for breathing space,
The trembling groues, the christ all running by;
And that, which all faire workes doth most aggrace,
The art, which all that wrought, appeared in no place.
One would haue thought, (so cunningly, the rude
And scorned partes were mingled with the fine,)
That nature had for wantonesse ensude
Art, and that Art at nature did repine;
[Page 379]So striuing each th'other to vndermine,
Each did the others worke more beautify;
So diff'ring both in willes, agreed in fine:
So all agreed through sweete diuersity,
This Gardin to adorne with all variety.
And in the midst of all, a fountaine stood,
Of richest substance, that on earth might bee,
So pure and shiny, that the siluer flood
Through euery channell running one might see;
Most goodly it with curious ymageree
Was ouerwrought, and shapes of naked boyes,
Of which some seemd with liuely iollitee,
To fly about, playing their wanton toyes,
Whylest others did them selues embay in liquid ioyes,
And ouer all, of purest gold was spred,
A trayle of yuie in his natiue hew:
For the rich metall was so coloured,
That wight, who did not well auis'd it vew.
Would surely deeme it to bee yuie trew:
Low his lasciuious armes adown did creepe,
That themselues dipping in the siluer dew,
Their fleecy flowres they fearefully did steepe,
Which drops of Christall seemd for wantones to weep.
Infinitstreames continually did well
Out of this fountaine, sweet and faire to see,
The which into an ample lauer fell,
And shortly grew to so great quantitie,
That like a litle lake it seemd to bee;
Whose depth exceeded not three cubits hight,
That through the waues one might the bottom see,
All pau'd beneath with Iaspar shining bright,
That seemd the fountaine in that sea did sayle vpright.
And all the margent round about was sett,
With shady Laurell trees, thence to defend
The sunny beames, which on the billowes bett,
And those which therein bathed, mote offend:
As Guyon hapned by the same to wend,
Two naked Damzelles he therein espyde,
Which therein bathing, seemed to contend,
And wrestle wantonly, ne car'd to hyde,
Their dainty partes from vew of any, which them eyd.
Sometimes the one would lift the other quight
Aboue the waters, and then downe againe
Her plong, as ouer maystered by might,
Where both awhile would couered remaine,
And each the other from to rise restraine;
The whiles their snowy limbes, as through a vele,
So through the christall waues appeared plaine:
Then suddeinly both would themselues vnhele,
And th'a marous' sweet spoiles to greedy eyes reuele.
As that faire Starre, the messenger of morne,
His deawy face out of the sea doth reare:
Or as the Cyprian goddesse, newly borne
Of th'Oceans fruitfull froth, did first appeare:
Such seemed they, and so their yellow heare
Christalline humor dropped downe apace.
Whom such when Guyon saw, he drew him neare,
And some what [...] relent his earnest pace;
His stubborne brest gan sccret pleasaunce to embrace.
The wanton Maidens him espying, stood
Gazing a while at his vnwonted guise;
Then th'one her selfe low ducked in the flood,
Abasht, that her a straunger did avise:
[Page 381]But thother rather higher did arise,
And her two lilly paps aloft displayd,
And all, that might his melting hart entyse
To her delights, she vnto him bewrayd:
The rest hidd vnderneath, him more desirous made.
With that, the other likewise vp arose,
And her faire lockes, which formerly were bownd
Vp in one knott, she low adowne did lose:
Which flowing long and thick, her cloth'd arownd,
And th'yuorie in golden mantle gownd:
So that faire spectacle from him was reft,
Yet that, which reft it, no lesse faire was fownd:
So hidd in lockes and waues from lookers theft,
Nought but her louely face she for his looking left.
Withall she laughed, and she blusht withall,
That blushing to her laughter gaue more grace,
And laughter to her blushing, as did fall:
Now when they spyde the knight to slacke his pace,
Them to behold, and in his sparkling face
The secrete signes of kindled lust appeare,
Their wanton meriments they did encreace,
And to him beckned, to approch more neare,
And shewd him many sights, that corage cold could reare.
On which when gazing him the Palmer saw,
He much rebukt those wandring eyes of his,
And counseld well, him forward thence did draw.
Now are they come nigh to the Bowre of blis
Of her fond fauorites so nam'd amis:
When thus the Palmer, Now Sir, well auise;
For here the end of all our traueill is:
Here wonnes [...], whom we must surprise,
Els she will slip away, and all our drift despise.
Eftsoones they heard a most melodious sound,
Of all that more delight a daintie eare,
Such as attonce might not on liuing ground,
Saue in this Paradise, be heard elswhere:
Right hard it was, for wight, which did it heare,
To read, what manner musicke that mote bee:
For all that pleasing is to liuing eare,
Was there consorted in one harmonee,
Birdes, voices, instruments, windes, waters, all agree.
The ioyous birdes shrouded in chearefull shade,
Their notes vnto the voice attempred sweet;
Th'Angelicall soft trembling voyces made
To th'instruments diuine respondence meet:
The siluer sounding instruments did meet
With the base murmure of the waters fall:
The waters fall with difference discreet,
Now soft, now loud, vnto the wind did call:
The gentle warbling wind low answered to all.
There, whence that Musick seemed heard to bee,
Was the faire Witch her selfe now solacing,
With a new Louer, whom through sorceree
And witchcraft, she from farre did thether bring:
There she had him now laid a slombering,
In secret shade, after long wanton ioyes:
Whilst round about them pleasauntly did sing
Many faire Ladies, and lasciuious boyes,
That euer mixt their song with light licentious toyes.
And all that while, right ouer him she hong,
With her false eyes fast fixed in his sight,
As seeking medicine, whence she was stong,
Or greedily depasturing delight:
[Page 383]And oft inclining downe with kisses light,
For feare of waking him, his lips bedewd,
And through his humid eyes did sucke his spright,
Quite molten into lust and pleasure lewd;
Wherewith she sighed soft, as if his case she rewd.
The whiles some one did chaunt this louely lay;
Ah see, who so fayre thing doest faine to see,
In springing flowre the image of thy day;
Ah see the Virgin Rose, how sweetly shee
Doth first peepe foorth with bashfull modestee,
That fairer seemes, the lesse ye see her may;
Lo see [...] after, how more bold and free
Her bared bosome she doth broad display;
Lo see soone after, how she fades, and falls away.
So passeth, in the passing of a day,
Of mortall life the leafe, the bud, the flowre,
Ne more doth florish after first decay,
That earst was sought to deck both bed and bowre,
Of many a Lady, and many a Paramowre:
Gather therefore the Rose, whilest yet is prime,
For soone comes age, that will her pride deflowre:
Gather the Rose of loue, whilest yet is time,
Whilest louing thou mayst loued be with equall crime.
He ceast, and then gan all the quire of birdes
Their diuerse notes t'attune vnto his lay,
As in approuaunce of his pleasing wordes.
The constant payre heard all, that he did say,
Yet swarued not, but kept their forward way,
Through many couert groues, and thickets close,
In which they creeping did at last display
Thot wanton Lady, with her louer lose,
Whose sleepie head she in her lap did soft dispose.
Vpon a bed of Roses she was layd,
As faint through heat, or dight to pleasant sin,
And was arayd, or rather disarayd,
All in a uele of silke and siluer thin,
That hid no whit her alablaster skin,
But rather shewd more white, if more might bee:
More subtile web Arachne cannot spin,
Not the fine nets, which oft we wouen see
Of scorched deaw, do not in th'ayre more lightly flee.
Her snowy brest was bare to ready spoyle
Of hungry eies, which n'ote therewith be fild,
And yet through languour of her late sweet toyle,
Few drops, more cleare then Nectar, forth distild,
That like pure Orient perles adowne it trild,
And her faire eyes sweet smyling in delight,
Moystened their fierie beames, with which she thrild
Fraile harts, yet quenched not; like starry light
Which sparckling on the silent waues, does seeme more bright.
The young man sleeping by her, seemd to be
Some goodly swayne of honorable place,
That certes it great pitty was to see
Him his nobility so fowle deface;
A sweet regard, and amiable grace,
Mixed with manly sternesse did appeare
Yet sleeping, in his well proportiond face,
And on his tender lips the downy heare
Did now but freshly spring, and silken blossoms beare.
His warlike Armes, the ydle instruments
Of sleeping praise, were hong vpon a tree,
And his braue shield, full of old moniments,
Was fowly ra'st; that none the signes might see,
[Page 385]Ne for them, ne for honour cared hee,
Ne ought, that did to his aduauncement tend,
But in lewd loues, and wastfull luxuree,
His dayes, his goods, his bodie he did spend:
O horrible enchantment, that him so did blend.
The noble Elfe, and carefull Palmer drew
So nigh them, minding nought, but [...] game,
That suddein forth they on them rusht, and threw
A subtile net, which only for that same
The skilfull Palmer formally did frame.
So held them vnder fast, the whiles the rest
Fled all away for feare of fowler shame.
The faire Enchauntresse, so vnwares opprest,
Tryde all her arts, & all her sleights, thence out to wrest.
And eke her louer stroue: but all in vaine;
For that same net so cunningly was wound,
That neither guile, nor force might it distraine.
They tooke them both, & both them strongly bound
In captiue bandes, which there they readie found:
But her in chaines of adamant he tyde;
For nothing else might keepe her safe and sound;
But Verdant (so he hight) he soone vntyde,
And counsell sage in steed thereof to him applyde,
But all those pleasaunt bowres and Pallace braue,
Guyon broke downe, with rigour pittilesse;
Ne ought their goodly workmanship might saue
Them from the tempest of his wrathfulnesse,
But that their blisse he turn'd to balefulnesse:
Their groues he feld, their gardins did deface,
Their arbers spoyle, their Cabinets suppresse,
Their banket houses burne, their buildings race,
And of the fayrest late, now made the fowlest place.
Then led they her away, and cke that knight
They with them led, both sorrowfull and sad:
The way they came, the same retourn'd they right,
Till they arriued, where they lately had
Charm'd those wild-beasts, that rag'd with furie mad.
Which now awaking, fierce at them gan fly,
As in their mistresse reskew, whom they lad;
But them the Palmer soone did pacify.
Then Guyon askt, what meant those beastes, which there didly.
Sayd he, these seeming beasts are men indeed,
Whom this Enchauntresse hath transformed thus,
Whylome her louers, which her lustes did feed,
Now turned into figures hideous,
According to their mindes like monstruous.
Sad end (quoth he) of life intemperate,
And mournefull meed of ioyes delicious:
But Palmer, if it mote thee so aggrate,
Let them returned be vnto their former state.
Streight way he with his vertuous staffe them strooke,
And streight of beastes they comely men became;
Yet being men they did vnmanly looke,
And stared ghastly, some for inward shame,
And some for wrath, to see their captiue Dame:
But one aboue the rest in speciall,
That had an hog beene late, hight Grylle by name,
Repyned greatly, and did him miscall,
That had from hoggish forme him brought to naturall.
Saide Guyon, See the mind of beastly man,
That hath so soone forgot the excellence
Of his creation, when he life began,
That now he chooseth, with vile difference,
[Page 387]To be a beast, and lacke intelligence.
To whom the Palmer thus, The donghill kinde
Delightes in filth and fowle incontinence:
Let Gryll be Gryll, and haue his hoggish minde;
But let vs hence depart, whilest wether serues & winde.
The thirde Booke of the Faerie Queene. Contayning The Legend of Britomartis. OR Of Chastity.
IT falls me here to write of Chastity.
The fayrest vertue, far aboue the rest;
For which what needes me fetch from Faery
Forreine ensamples, it to haue exprest?
Sith it is shrined in my Soueraines brest,
And formd so liuely in each perfect part,
That to all Ladies, which haue it profest,
Neede but behold the pourtraict of her hart,
If pourtrayd it might bee by any liuing [...].
But liuing art may not least part expresse,
Nor life-resembling pencill it can paynt,
All were it Zeuxis or Praxitcles:
His daedale hand would faile, and greatly faynt,
[Page 390]And her perfections with his error taynt:
Ne Poets witt, that passeth Painter farre
In picturing the parts of beauty daynt,
So hard a workemanship aduenture darre,
For fear through wāt of words her excellence to marre.
How then shall I, Apprentice of the skill,
That whilome in diuinest wits did rayne,
Presume so high to stretch mine humble quill?
Yet now my luckelesse lott doth me constrayne
Hereto perforce. But O dredd Souerayne
Thus far forth pardon, sith that choicest witt
Cannot your glorious pourtraict figure playne,
That I in colourd showes may shadow itt,
And antique praises vnto present persons fitt.
But if in liuing colours, and right hew,
Thy selfe thou couet to see pictured,
Who can it doe more liuely, or more trew,
Then that sweete verse, with Nectar sprinckeled,
In which a gracious seruaunt pictured
His Cynthia, his heauens fayrest light?
That with his melting sweetnes rauished,
And with the wonder of her beames bright,
My sences lulled are in slomber of delight.
But let that same delitious Poet lend
A little leaue vnto a rusticke Muse
To sing his mistresse prayse, and let him mend,
If ought amis her liking may abuse:
Ne let his fayrest Cynthia refuse,
In mirrours more then one her selfe to see,
But either Glorian a let her chuse,
Or in Belphoebe fashioned to bee:
In th'one her rule, in th'other her rare chastitee.
Cant. I.
Guyon encountreth Britomart,
Fayre Florimell is chaced:
Duessaes traines and Materastaes
champions are defaced.
THe famous Briton Prince and Faery knight,
After long wayes and perilous paines endur'd,
Hauing their weary limbes to perfect plight
Restord, and sory wounds right well recur'd,
Of the faire Alma greatly were procur'd,
To make there lenger soiourne and abode;
But when thereto they might not be allur'd,
From seeking praise, and deeds of armes abrode,
They courteous conge tooke, and forth together yode.
But the captiu'd Acrasia he sent,
Because of traueill long, a nigher way,
With a strong gard, all reskew to preuent,
And her to Faery court safe to conuay,
That her for witnes of his hard assay,
Vnto his Faery Queene he might present:
But he him selfe betooke another way,
To make more triall of his hardiment,
And seeke aduentures, as he with Prince Arthure went.
Long so they traueiled through wastefull wayes,
Where daungers dwelt, and perils most did wonne,
To hunt for glory and renowmed prayse;
Full many Countreyes they did ouerronne,
[Page 392]From the vprising to the setting Sunne,
And many hard aduentures did atchieue;
Of all the which they honour euer wonne,
Seeking the weake oppressed to relieue,
And to recouer right for such, as wrong did [...].
At last as through an open plaine they [...],
They spide a knight, that towards pricked fayre,
And him beside an aged Squire there rode,
That seemd to couch vnder his shield three-square,
As if that age badd him that burden spare,
And yield it those, that stouter could it wield:
He them espying, gan him selfe prepare,
And on his arme addresse his goodly shield
That bore a Lion passant in a golden field.
Which seeing good Sir Guyon, deare besought
The Prince of grace, to let him ronne that turne.
He graunted: then the Faery quickly raught
His poynant speare, and sharply gan to spurne
His fomy steed, whose fiery feete did burne
The verdant gras, as he thereon did tread;
Ne did the other backe his foote returne,
But fiercely forward came withouten dread,
And bent his dreadful speare against the others head.
They beene ymett, and both theyr points arriu'd,
But Guyon droue so furious and fell,
That seemd both shield and plate it would haue riu'd;
Nathelesse it bore his foe not from his sell,
Rut made him stagger, as he were not well:
But Guyon selfe, ere well he was aware,
Nigh a [...] length behind his crouper fell,
Yet in his fall so well him selfe he bare,
That mischieuous mischaūce his [...] & limbs did spare.
Great shame and sorrow of that fall he tooke;
For neuer yet, sith warlike armes he bore,
And shiuering speare in bloody field first shooke,
He fownd him selfe dishonored so sore.
Ah gentlest knight, that euer armor bore,
Let not the grieue dismounted to haue beene,
And brought to grownd, that neuer wast before;
For not thy fault, but secret powre vnseene,
That speare enchaunted was, which layd thee on the greene.
But weenedst thou, what wight thee ouerthrew,
Much greater griefe and shamefuller regrett
For thy hard fortune then thou wouldst renew,
That of a single damzell thou wert mett
On equall plaine, and there so hard besett;
Euen the famous Britomart it was,
Whom straunge aduentnre did from Britayne fett,
To seeke her louer (loue far sought alas,)
Whose image shee had seene in Venus looking glas.
Full of disdainefull wrath, he fierce vprose,
For to reuenge that fowle reprochefull shame,
And snatching his bright sword began to close
With her on foot, and stoutly forward came;
Dye rather would he, then endure that same.
Which when his Palmer saw, he gan to feare
His toward perill and vntoward blame,
Which by that new rencounter he should reare:
For death sate on the point of that enchaunted speare.
And hasting towards him gan fayre perswade,
Not to prouoke misfortune, nor to weene
His speares default to mend with cruell blade;
For by his mightie Science he had seene
[Page 394]The secrete vertue of that weapon keene,
That mortall puissaunce mote not withstond:
Nothing on earth mote alwaies happy beene.
Great hazard were it, and aduenture fond,
To loose long gotten honour with one euill hond.
By such good meanes he him discounselled,
From prosecuting his reuenging rage;
And eke the Prince like treaty handeled,
His wrathfull will with reason to aswage,
And laid the blame, not to his carriage,
But to his starting steed, that swaru'd asyde,
And to the ill purueyaunce of his page,
That had his furnitures not firmely tyde:
So is his angry corage fayrly pacifyde.
Thus reconcilement was betweene them knitt,
Through goodly temperaunce, and affection chaste,
And either vowd with all their power and witt,
To let not others honour be defaste,
Offriend or foe, who euer it embaste,
Ne armes to beare against the others syde:
In which accord the Prince was also plaste,
And with that golden chaine of concord tyde.
So goodly all agreed, they forth yfere did ryde,
O goodly vsage of those antique tymes,
In which the sword was seruaunt vnto right;
When not for malice and contentious crymes,
But all for prayse, and proofe of manly might,
The martiall brood accustomed to fight:
Then honour was the meed of victory,
And yet the vanquished had no despight:
Let later age that noble vse enuy,
Vyle rancor to avoid, and cruel surquedry.
Long they thus traueiled in friendly wise,
Through countreyes waste, and eke welledifyde,
Seeking aduentures hard, to exercise
Their puissaunce, whylome full dernly tryde:
At length they came into a forest wyde,
Whose hideous horror and sad trembling sownd
Full griesly seemd: Therein they long did ryde,
Yet tract of liuing creature none they fownd,
Saue Beares, Lyons, & Buls, which romed them arownd.
All suddenly out of the thickest brush,
Vpon a milkwhite Palfrey all alone,
A goodly Lady did foreby them rush,
Whose face did seeme as cleare as Christall stone,
And eke through feare as white as whales bone:
Her garments all were wrought of beaten gold,
And all her steed with tinsell trappings shone,
Which fledd so fast, that nothing mote him hold,
And scarse them leasure gaue, her passing to behold.
Still as she fledd, her eye she backward threw,
As fearing euill, that poursewd her fast;
And her faire yellow locks behind her flew,
Loosely disperst with puff of euery blast:
All as a blazing starre doth farre outcast
His hearie beames, and flaming lockes dispredd,
At sight whereof the people stand aghast:
But the sage wisard telles, as he has redd,
That it importunes death and dolefull dreryhedd.
So as they gazed after her a whyle,
Lo where a griesly foster forth did rush,
Breathing out beastly lust her to defyle:
His tyreling Iade he fiersly forth did push,
[Page 396]Through thicke and thin, both ouer banck and bush
In hope her to attaine by hooke or crooke,
That from his gory sydes the blood did gush:
Large were his limbes, and terrible his looke,
And in his clownish hand a sharp bore speare he shooke.
Which outrage when those gentle knights did see,
Full of great enuy and fell gealosy,
They stayd not to auise, who first should bee,
But all spurd after fast, as they mote fly,
To reskew her from shamefull villany.
The Prince and Guyon equally byliue
Her selfe pursewd, in hope to win thereby
Most goodly meede, the fairest Dame aliue:
But after the foule foster Timias did striue.
The whiles faire Britomart, whose constant mind,
Would not so lightly follow beauties chace,
Ne reckt of Ladies Loue, did stay behynd,
And them awayted there a certaine space,
To weet if they would turne backe to that place:
But when she saw them gone, she forward went,
As lay her iourney, through that perlous Pace,
With stedfast corage and stout hardiment;
Ne euil thing she feard, ne euill thing she ment.
At last as nigh out of the wood she came,
A stately Castle far away she spyde,
To which her steps directly she did frame.
That Castle was most goodly edifyde,
And plaste for pleasure nigh that forrest syde:
But faire before the gate a spatious playne,
Mantled with greene, it selfe did spredden wyde,
On which she saw six knights, that did darrayne
Fiers battaill against one, with cruel might and mayne.
Mainely they all attonce vpon him laid,
And sore beset on euery side arownd,
That nigh he breathlesse grew, yet nought dismaid,
Ne euer to them yielded foot of grownd
All had he lost much blood through many a wownd,
But stoutly dealt his blowes, and euery way
To which he turned in his [...] stownd,
Made them recoile, and fly from dredd decay,
That none of all the six before, him durst assay.
Like dastard Curres, that hauing at a bay
The saluage beast embost in wearie chace,
Dare not aduenture on the stubborne pray,
Ne byte before, but rome from place to place,
To get a snatch, when turned is his face.
In such distresse and doubtfull ieopardy,
When Britomart him saw, she ran apace
Vnto his reskew, and with earnest cry,
Badd those same sixe forbeare that single enimy.
But to her cry they list not lenden eare,
Ne ought the more their mightie strokes surceasse,
But gathering him rownd about more neare,
Their direfull rancour rather did encreasse;
Till that she rushing through the thickest preasse,
Perforce disparted their compacted gyre,
And soone compeld to hearken vnto peace:
Tho gan she myldly of them to inquyre
The cause of their dissention and outrageous yre.
Whereto that single knight did answere frame;
These six would me enforce by oddes of might,
To chaunge my liefe, and loue another Dame,
That death me liefer were, then such despight,
[Page 398]So vnto wrong to yield my wrested right:
For I loue one, the truest one on grownd,
Ne list me chaunge; she th'Errant damzell hight,
For whose deare sake full many a bitter stownd,
I haue endurd, and tasted many a bloody wownd.
Certes (said she) then beene ye sixe to blame,
To weene your wrong by force to iustify:
For knight to leaue his Lady were great shame,
That faithfull is, and better were to dy.
All losse is lesse, and lesse the infamy,
Then losse of loue to him, that loues but one;
Ne may loue be compeld by maistery;
For soone as maistery comes, sweet loue anone
Taketh his nimble winges, and soone away is gone.
Then spake one of those six, There dwelleth here
Within this castle wall a Lady fayre,
Whose soueraine beautie hath no liuing pere,
Thereto so bounteous and so debonayre,
That neuer any mote with her compayre.
She hath ordaind this law, which we approue,
That euery knight, which doth this way repayre,
In case he haue no Lady, nor no loue,
Shall doe vnto her seruice neuer to remoue.
But if he haue a Lady or a Loue,
Then must he her forgoe with fowle defame,
Or els with vs by dint of sword approue,
That she is fairer, then our fairest Dame,
As did this knight, before ye hether came.
Perdy (said Britomart) the choise is hard:
But what reward had he, that ouercame?
He should aduaunced bee to high regard,
(Said they) and haue our Ladies loue for his reward.
Therefore a read Sir, if thou haue a loue.
Loue haue I sure, (quoth she) but Lady none;
Yet will I not fro mine owne loue remoue,
Ne to your Lady will I seruice done,
But wreake your wronges wrought to this knight alone,
And proue his cause. With that her mortall speare
She mightily auentred towards one,
And downe him smot, ere well aware he weare,
Then to the next she rode, & downe the next did beare.
Ne did she stay, till three on ground she layd,
That none of them himselfe could reare againe;
The fourth was by that other knight dismayd,
All were he wearie of his former paine,
That now there do but two of six remaine;
Which two did yield, before she did them smight.
Ah (sayd she then) now may ye all see plaine,
That truth is strong, and trew loue most of might,
That for his trusty seruaunts doth so strongly fight,
Too well we see, (saide they) and proue too well
Our faulty weakenes, and your matchlesse might:
For thy, faire Sir, yours be the Damozell,
Which by her owne law to your lot doth light,
And we your liegemen faith vnto you plight.
So vnderneath her feet their swords they shard,
And after her besought, well as they might,
To enter in, and reape the dew reward:
She graunted, and then in they all together far'd.
Long were it to describe the goodly frame,
And stately port of Castle Ioyeous,
(For so that Castle hight by commun name)
Where they were entertaynd with courteous
[Page 400]And comely glee of many gratious
Faire Ladies, and of many a gentle knight,
Who through a Chamber long and spacious,
Eftsoones them brought vnto their Ladies sight,
That of them cleeped was the Lady of delight.
But for to tell the sumptuous aray
Of that great chamber, should be labour lost:
For liuing wit, I weene, cannot display
The roiall riches and exceeding cost,
Of euery pillour and of euery post;
Which all of purest bullion framed were,
And with great perles and pretious stones embost,
That the bright glister of their beames cleare
Did sparckle forth great light, and glorious did appeare.
These stranger knights through passing, forth were led
Into an inner rowme, whose royaltee
And rich purueyance might vneath be red;
Mote Princes place be seeme so deckt to bee.
Which stately manner when as they did see,
The image of superstuous riotize,
Exceeding much the state of meane degree,
They greatly wondred, whence so sumpteous guize
Might be maintaynd, and each gan diuersely deuize.
The wals were round about appareiled
With costly clothes of Arras and of Toure,
In which with cunning hand was pourtrahed
The loue of Venus and her Paramoure,
The fayre Adonis, turned to a flowre,
A worke of rare deuice, and wondrous wit.
First did it shew the bitter balefull stowre,
Which her assayd with many a feruent fit,
When first her tender hart was with his beautie smit.
Then with what sleights and sweet allurements she
Entyst the Boy, as well that art she knew,
And wooed him her Paramoure to bee;
Now making girlonds of each flowre that grew,
To crowne his golden lockes with honour dew;
Now leading him into a secret shade
From his Beauperes, and from bright heauens vew,
Where him to sleepe she gently would perswade,
Or bathe him in a fountaine by some couert glade.
And whilst he slept, she ouer him would spred
Her mantle, colour'd like the starry skyes,
And her soft arme lay vnderneath his hed,
And with ambrosiall kisses bathe his eyes;
And whilst he bath'd, with her two crafty spyes,
She secretly would search each daintie lim,
And throw into the well sweet Rosemaryes,
And fragrant violets, and Paunces trim,
And euer with sweet Nectar she did sprinkle him.
So did she steale his heedelesse hart away,
And ioyd his loue in secret vnespyde.
But for she saw him bent to cruell play,
To hunt the saluage beast in forrest wyde,
Dreadfull of daunger, that mote him betyde,
She oft and oft aduiz'd him to refraine
From chase of greater beastes, whose brutish pryde
Mote breede him scath vnwares: but all in vaine;
For who can shun the chance, that dest'ny doth ordaine?
Lo, where beyond he lyeth languishing,
Deadly engored of a great wilde Bore,
And by his side the Goddesse groueling
Makes for him endlesse mone, and euermore
[Page 402]With her soft garment wipes away the gore,
Which staynes his snowy skin with hatefull hew:
But when she saw no helpe might him restore,
Him to a [...] flowre she did transmew,
Which in that cloth was wrought, as if it liuely grew.
So was that chamber clad in goodly wize,
And rownd about it many beds were dight,
As whylome was the antique worldes guize,
Some for vntimely ease, some for delight,
As pleased them to vse, that vse it might:
And all was full of Damzels, and of [...],
Dauncing and reueling both day and night,
And swimming deepe in sensuall desyres,
And Cupid still emongest them kindled lustfull fyres.
And all the while sweet Musicke did diuide
Her looser notes with Lydian harmony;
And all the while sweet birdes thereto applide
Their daintie layes and dulcet melody,
Ay caroling of loue and iollity,
That wonder was to heare their [...] consort.
Which when those knights beheld, with scornefull eye,
They sdeigned such lasciuious disport,
And loath'd the loose demeanure of that wanton sort.
Thence they were brought to that great Ladies vew,
Whom they found sitting on a sumptuous bed,
That glistred all with gold and glorious shew,
As the proud Persian Queenes accustomed:
She seemd a woman of great bountihed,
And of rare beautie, sauing that askaunce
Her wanton eyes, ill signes of womanhed,
Did roll too highly, and too often glaunce,
Withoutregard of grace, or comely amenaunce.
Long worke it were, and needlesse to deuize
Their goodlv entertainement and great glee:
She caused them be led in courteous wize
Into a bowre, disarmed for to be,
And cheared well with wine and spicerce:
The Redcrosse Knight was soone disarmed there,
But the braue Mayd would not disarmed bee,
But onely vented vp her vmbriere,
And so did let her goodly visage to appere.
Asn when fayre Cynthia, in darkesome night,
Is in a noyous cloud enueloped,
Where she may finde the substance thin and light,
Breakes forth her siluer beames, and her bright hed
Discouers to the world discomfited;
Of the poore traueiler, that went astray,
With thousand blessings she is heried;
Such was the beautie and the shining ray,
With which [...] Britomart gaue light vnto the day.
And eke those six, which lately with her fought,
Now were disarmd, and did them selues present
Vnto her vew, and company vnsought;
For they all seemed courteous and gent,
And all sixe brethren, borne of one parent,
Which had them traynd in all ciuilitee,
And goodly taught to tilt and turnament;
Now were they liegmen to this Ladie free,
And her knights seruice ought, to hold of her in see.
The first of them by name Gardante hight,
A iolly person, and of comely vew;
The second was Parlante, a bold knight,
And next to him Iocante did ensew;
[Page 404] Basciante did him selfe most courteous shew;
But fierce Bacchante seemd too fell and keene;
And yett in armes Noctante greater grew:
All were faire knights, and goodly well beseene,
But to faire Britomart they all but shadowes beene.
For shee was full of amiable grace,
And manly terror mixed therewithall,
That as the one stird vp affections bace,
So th'other did mens rash desires apall,
And hold them backe, that would in error fall;
As hee, that hath espide a vermeill Rose,
To which sharpe thornes and breres the way forstall,
Dare not for dread his hardy hand expose,
But wishing it far off, his ydle wish doth lose.
Whom when the Lady saw so faire a wight.
All ignorant of her contrary sex,
(For shee her weend a fresh and lusty knight)
Shee greatly gan enamoured to wex,
And with vaine thoughts her falsed fancy vex:
Her fickle hart conceiued hasty fyre,
Like sparkes of fire, that fall in sclender flex,
That shortly brent into extreme desyre,
And ransackt all her veines with passion entyre.
Eftsoones shee grew to great impatience
And into termes of open outrage brust,
That plaine discouered her incontinence,
Ne reckt shee, who her meaning did mistrust;
For she was giuen all to fleshly lust,
And poured forth in sensuall delight,
That all regard of shame she had discust,
And meet respect of honor putt to flight:
So shamelesse beauty soone becomes a loathly sight.
Faire Ladies, that to loue captiued arre,
And chaste desires doe nourish in your mind,
Let not her fault your sweete affections marre,
Ne blott the bounty of all womankind;
'Mongst thousands good one wanton Dame to find:
Emongst the Roses grow some wicked weeds;
For this was not to loue, but lust inclind;
For loue does alwaies bring forth bounteous deeds,
And in each gentle hart desire of honor breeds.
Nought so of loue this looser Dame did skill,
But as a cole to kindle fleshly flame,
Giuing the bridle to her wanton will,
And treading vnder foote her honest name:
Such Ioue is hate, and such desire is shame.
Still did she roue at her with crafty glaunce
Of her false [...], that at her hart did ayme,
And told her meaning in her countenaunce;
But Britomart dissembled it with ignoraunce.
Supper was shortly dight and downe they satt,
Where they were serued with all sumptuous fare,
Whiles fruitfull Ceres, and Lyaeus fatt
Pourd out their plenty, without spight or spare:
Nought wanted there, that dainty was and rare;
And aye the cups their bancks did ouerflow,
And aye betweene the cups, she did prepare
Way to her loue, and secret darts did throw;
But Britomart would not such guilfull message know.
So [...] they slaked had the feruent heat
Of appetite with meates of euery sort,
The Lady did faire Britomart entreat,
Her to disarme, and with delightfull sport
[Page 406]To loose her warlike limbs and strong effort,
But when shee mote not thereunto be wonne,
(For shee her sexe vnder that straunge [...]
Did vse to hide, and plaine apparaunce shonne:)
In playner wise to [...] her grieuaunce she begonne.
And all attonce discouered her desire
With sighes, and sobs, and plaints, & piteous griese
The outward sparkes [...] her [...] burning fire;
Which spent in vaine, at last she told her briefe,
That but if she did lend her short reliefe,
And doe her comfort, she mote [...] dye.
But the chaste damzell, that had neuer priefe
Of such malengine and fine [...],
Did easely beleeue her strong extremitye.
Full easy was for her to haue beliefe,
Who by self-feeling of her feeble sexe,
And by long triall of the inward griefe,
Where with imperious loue her hart did vexe,
Could iudge what paines doe louing harts [...].
Who meanes no guile, be-guiled [...] shall,
And to faire semblaunce doth light faith annexe;
The [...], that knowes not the faise fowlers call,
Into his hidden nett full easely doth fall.
For thy she [...] not in discourteise [...],
Scorne the saire offer of good will [...];
For great rebuke it is, lone to despise,
Or rudely fdeigne a gentle harts request;
But with [...], as beseemed [...],
Her entertaynd; nath 'lesse shee inly deemd
Her loue too light, to wooe a wandring guest:
Which she [...], thereby esteemd
That from like inward fire that outward smoke had steemd.
Therewith a while she her flit fancy fedd,
Till she mote winne fit time for her desire,
But yet her wound still inward freshly bledd,
And through her bones the false instilled fire
Did spred it selfe, and venime close inspire.
Tho were the tables taken all away,
And euery knight, and euery gentle Squire
Gan choose his dame with [...] gay,
With whom he ment to make his sport & courtly play.
Some fell to daunce, some fel to hazardry,
Some to make loue, some to make meryment,
As diuerse witts to [...] things apply;
And all the while faire Malecasta bent
Her crafty engins to her close intent.
By this th'eternall lampes, wherewith high Ioue
Doth light the lower world, were halfe yspent,
And the moist daughters of huge Atlas stroue
Into the Ocean deepe to driue their weary droue.
High time it seemed then for euerie wight
Them to betake vnto their kindly rest;
Eftesoones long waxen torches weren light,
Vnto their bowres to guyden euery guest:
Tho when the Britonesse saw all the rest
Auoided quite, she gan her selfe despoile,
And safe committ to her soft fethered nest,
Wher through long watch, & late daies weary toile,
She soundly slept, & carefull thoughts did quite assoile.
Now whenas all the world in silence deepe
Y shrowded was, and euery mortall wight
Was drowned in the depth of deadly sleepe,
Faire Malecasta, whose engrieued spright
[Page 408]Could find no rest in such perplexed plight,
Lightly arose out of her wearie bed,
And vnder the blacke vele of guilty Night,
Her with a scatlott mantle couered,
That was with gold and Ermines faire enueloped.
Then panting softe, and trembling euery ioynt,
Her fearfull feete towards the bowre she mou'd.
Where she for secret purpose did appoynt
To lodge the warlike maide vnwisely loou'd,
And to her bed approching, first she proou'd,
Whether she slept or [...], with her softe hand
She softely felt, if any member moou'd,
And lent [...] weary eare to vnderstand,
If any puffe of breath, or signe of sence shee fond.
Which whenas none she fond, with easy shifte,
For feare least her vnwares she should abrayd,
Th'embroderd quilt she lightly vp did lifte,
And by her side her selfe she softly layd,
Of euery finest fingers touch affrayd;
Ne any noise she made, ne word she spake.
But inly sigh'd. At last the royall Mayd
Out of her quiet slomber did awake,
And chaungd her weary side, the better ease to take.
Where feeling one close couched by her side,
She lightly lept out of her filed bedd,
And to her weapon ran, in minde to gride
The loathed leachour. But the Dame halfe dedd
Through suddein feare and ghastly drerihedd,
Did shrieke alowd, that through the hous it rong,
And the whole family there with adredd,
Rashly [...] of their rouzed couches sprong,
And to the troubled chamber all in armes did throng.
And those sixe knights that ladies Champions,
And eke the Redcrosse knight ran to the stownd,
Halfe armd and halfe vnarmd, with them [...]:
Where when confusedly they came, they fownd
Their lady lying on the sencelesse grownd;
On thother side, they saw the warlike Mayd
Al in her snow-white smocke, with locks vnbownd,
Threatning the point of her auenging blaed,
That with so troublous terror they were all dismayd.
About their Ladye first they flockt arownd,
Whom hauing laid in comfortable couch,
Shortly they reard out of her frosen swownd;
And after wardes they gan with fowle reproch
To stirre vp strife and troublous contecke broch:
But by ensample of the last dayes losse,
None of them rashly durst to her approch,
Ne in so glorious spoile themselues embosse,
Her succourd eke the Champion of the bloody Crosse.
But one of those sixe knights, Gardante hight,
Drew out a deadly bow and arrow keene,
Which forth he sent with felonous despight,
And fell [...] against the virgin sheene:
The mortall steele stayd not, till it was seene
To gore her side, yet was the wound not deepe,
But lightly rased her soft silken skin,
That drops of purple blood thereout did weepe,
Which did her lilly smock with staines of vermeil steep.
Where with enrag'd, she fiercely at them flew,
And with her flaming sword about her layd,
That none of them foule mischiefe could eschew,
But with her dreadfull strokes were all dismayd:
[Page 410]Here, there, and euery where about her swayd
Her wrathfull steele, that none mote it abyde;
And eke the Redcrosse knight gaue her good ayd,
Ayioyning foot to foot, and syde to syde,
That in short space their foes they haue quite terrifyde.
Tho whenas all were put to shamefull flight,
The noble Britomartis her arayd,
And her bright armes about her body dight:
For nothing would she lenger there be stayd,
Where so loose life, and so vngende trade
Was vsd of knighcs and Ladies seeming gent:
So earely ere the grosse Earthes gryesy shade,
Was all disperst out of the firmament,
They tooke their steeds, & forth vpō their iourney went
Cant. II.
The Redcrosse knight to Britomart
describeth Artegall:
The wondrous myrrhour, by which she
in loue with him did fall.
HEre haue I cause in men iust blame to find,
That in their proper praise too partiall bee,
And not indifferent to woman kind,
To whom no share in armes and cheualree,
They doe impart, ne maken memoree
Of their braue gestes and prowesse martiall;
Scarse doe they spare to one or two or three,
Rowme in their writtes; yet the same writing small
Does all their deedes deface, and dims their glories all,
But by record of antique times I finde,
That wemen wont in warres to beare most sway,
And to all great exploites them selues inclind:
Of which they still the girlond bore away,
Till enuious Men fearing their rules decay,
Gan coyne streight lawes to curb their liberty,
Yet sith they warlike armes haue laide away,
They haue exceld in artes and pollicy,
That now we foolish men that prayse gin eke t'enuy.
Of warlike puissaunce in ages spent,
Be thou faire Britomart, whose prayse I wryte,
But of all wisedom bee thou precedent,
O soueraine Queene, whose prayse I would endyte,
Endite I would as dewtie doth excyte;
But ah my rymes to rude and rugged arre,
When in so high an obiect they doe lyte,
And striuing, fit to make, I feare doe marre:
Thy selfe thy prayses tell, and make them knowen farre.
She traueiling with Guyon by the way,
Of sondry thinges faire purpose gan to find,
T'abridg their iourney long, and lingring day;
Mongst which it fell into that Fairies mind,
To aske this Briton Maid, what vncouth wind,
Brought her into those partes, and what inquest
Made her dissemble her disguised kind:
Faire Lady she him seemd, like Lady drest,
But fairest knight aliue, when armed was her brest.
Thereat she sighing softly, had no powre
To speake a while, ne ready answere make,
But with hart-thrilling throbs and bitter stowre,
As if she had a feuer fitt, did quake,
[Page 412]And euery daintie limbe with horrour shake,
And euer and anone the rosy red,
Flasht through her face, as it had beene a flake
Of lightning, through bright heuen fulmined;
At last the passion past she thus him answered.
Faire Sir, I let you weete, that from the howre
I taken was from nourses tender pap,
I haue beene trained vp in warlike stowre,
To tossen speare and shield, and to affrap
The warlike ryder to his most mishap;
Sithence I loathed haue my life to lead,
As Ladies wont, in pleasures wanton lap,
To finger the fine needle and nyce thread,
Me leuer were with point of foemans speare be dead.
All my delight on deedes of armes is sett,
To hunt out perilles and aduentures hard,
By sea, by land, where so they may be mett,
Onely for honour and for high regard,
Without respect of richesse or reward.
For such intent into these partes I came,
Withouten compasse, or withouten card,
Far fro my natiue soyle, that is by name
The greater Brytayne, here to seeke for praise and fame.
Fame blazed hath, that here in Faery lond
Doe many famous knightes and Ladies wonne,
And many straunge aduentures to bee fond,
Of which great worth and worship may be wonne;
Which to proue, I this voyage haue begonne.
But mote I weet of you, right courteous knight,
Tydings of one, that hath vnto me donne
Late foule dishonour and reprochfull spight,
The which I seeke to wreake, and Arthegall he hight.
The word gone out, she backe againe would call,
As her repenting so to haue missayd,
But that he it vptaking ere the fall,
Her shortly answered; Faire martiall Mayd
Certes ye misauised beene, t'vpbrayd,
A gentle knight with so vnknightly blame:
For weet ye well of all, that euer playd
At tilt or tourney, or like warlike game,
The noble Arthegall hath euer borne the name.
For thy great wonder were it, if such shame
Should euer enter in his bounteous thought,
Or euer doe, that mote deseruen blame:
The noble corage neuer weeneth ought,
That may vnworthy of itselfe be thought.
Therefore, faire Damzell, be ye well aware,
Least that too farre ye haue your sorrow sought:
You and your countrey both I wish welfare,
And honour both; for each of other worthy are.
The royall Maid woxeinly wondrous glad,
To heare her Loue so highly magnifyde,
And ioyd that euer she affixed had,
Her hart on knight so goodly glorifyde,
How euer finely she it faind to hyde:
The louing mother, that nine monethes did beare,
In the deare closett of her painefull syde,
Her tender babe, it seeing safe appeare,
Doth not so much reioyce, as she reioyced theare.
But to occasion him to further talke,
To feed her humor with his pleasing style,
Her list in stryfull termes with him to balke,
And thus replyde, How euer, Sir, ye fyle
[Page 414]Your courteous tongue, his prayses to compyle,
It ill beseemes a knight of gentle sort,
Such as ye haue him boasted, to beguyle
A simple maide, and worke so hainous tort,
In shame of knighthood, as I largely can report.
Let bee therefore my vengeaunce to disswade,
And read, where I that faytour false may find.
Ah, but if reason faire might you perswade,
To slake your wrath, and mollify your mind,
(Said he) perhaps ye should it better find:
For hardie thing it is, to weene by might,
That man to hard conditions to bind,
Or euer hope to match in equall fight,
Whose prowesse paragone saw neuer liuing [...].
Ne soothlich is it easie for to read,
Where now on earth, or how he may be fownd;
For he ne wonneth in one certeine stead,
But restlesse walketh all the world arownd,
Ay doing thinges, that to his fame redownd,
Defending Ladies cause, and Orphans right,
Where so he heares, that any doth confownd
Them comfortlesse, through tyranny or might;
So is his soueraine honour raisde to heuens hight.
His feeling wordes her feeble sence much pleased,
And softly sunck into her molten hart;
Hart that is inly hurt, is greatly eased
With hope of thing, that may allegge his smart,
For pleasing wordes are like to Magick art,
That doth the charmed Snake in slomber lay:
Such secrete ease felt gentle Britomart,
Yet list the same efforce with faind gainesay;
So dischord ofte in Musick makes the sweeter lay.
And sayd, Sir knight, these ydle termes forbeare,
And sith it is vneath to finde his haunt,
Tell me some markes, by which he may appeare,
If chaunce I him encounter parauaunt;
For perdy one shall other slay, or daunt:
What shape, what [...], what armes, what steed, what stedd,
And what so else his person most may vaunt?
All which the Redcrosse knight to point aredd,
And him in euerie part before her fashioned.
Yet him in euerie part before she knew,
How euer list her now her knowledge fayne,
Sith him whylome in Brytayne she did vew,
To her reuealed in a mirrhour playne,
Whereof did grow her first engraffed payne,
Whose root and stalke so bitter yet did taste,
That but the fruit more sweetnes did contayne,
Her wretched dayes in dolour she mote waste,
And yield the pray of loue to lothsome death at last.
By straunge occasion she did him behold,
And much more straungely gan to loue his sight,
As it in bookes hath written beene of old.
In Deheubarth that now South-wales is hight,
What time king Ryence raign'd, and dealed right,
The great Magitien Merlin had deuiz'd,
By his deepe science, and hell-dreaded might,
A looking glasse, right wondrously aguiz'd,
Whose vertues through the wyde worlde soone were solemniz'd.
It vertue had, to shew in perfect sight,
What euer thing was in the world contaynd,
Betwixt the lowest earth and heuens hight,
So that it to the looker appertaynd;
[Page 416]What euer foe had wrought, or frend had faynd,
Therein discouered was, ne ought mote pas,
Ne ought in secret from the same remaynd;
For thy it round and hollow shaped was,
Like to the world it selfe, and seemd a world of glas.
Who wonders not, that reades so wonderous worke?
[...] who does wonder, that has red the Towre,
Wherein th'Aegyptian Phao long did lurke
From all mens vew, that none might her discoure,
Yet she might all men vew out of her bowre?
Great Ptolomaee it for his lemans sake
Ybuilded all of glasse, by Magicke powre,
And also it impregnable did make;
Yet when his loue was false, he with a peaze it brake.
Such was the glassy globe that Merlin made,
And gaue vnto king Ryence for his gard,
That neuer foes his kingdome might inuade,
But he it knew at home before he hard
Tydings thereof, and so them still debar'd.
It was a famous Present for a Prince,
And worthy worke of infinite reward,
That treasons could bewray and foes conuince;
Happy this Realme, had it remayned euer since.
One day it fortuned, fayre Britomart
Into her fathers closet to repayre;
For nothing he from her reseru'd apart,
Being his onely daughter and his hayre:
Where when she had espyde that mirrhour fayre,
Her selfe awhile therein she vewd in vaine;
Tho her auizing of the vertues rare,
Which thereof spoken were, she gan againe
Her to bethinke of, that [...] to her selfe pertaine.
But as it falleth, in the gentlest harts
Imperious Loue hath highest set his throne,
And tyrannizeth in the bitter smarts
Of them, that to him buxome are and prone:
So thought this Mayd (as maydens vse to done)
Whom fortune for her husband would allot,
Not that she lusted after any one;
For she was pure from blame of sinfull blot,
Yet wist her life at last must lincke in that same knot.
Eftsoones there was presented to her eye
A comely knight, all arm'd in complete wize,
Through whose bright ventayle lifted vp on hye
His manly face, that did his foes agrize,
And frends to termes of gentle truce entize,
Lookt foorth, as Phoebus face out of the [...],
Betwixt two shady mountaynes doth arize;
Portly his person was, and much increast
Through his Heroicke grace, and honorable gest.
His crest was couered with a couchant Hownd,
And all his armour seemd of antique mould,
But wondrous massy and assured sownd,
And round about yfretted all with gold,
In which there written was with cyphres old,
Achilles armes, which Arthogall did win.
And on his shield enueloped seuenfold
He bore a crowned litle Ermilin,
That deckt the azure field with her fayre pouldred skin.
The Damzell well did vew his Personage,
And liked well, ne further fastned not,
But went her way; ne her [...] age
Did weene, vnwares, that her vnlucky lot
[Page 418]Lay hidden in the [...] of the pot;
Of hurt vnwist most daunger doth redound:
But the false Archer, which that arrow shot
So slyly, that she did not feele the wound,
Did smyle full smoothly at her weetlesse wofull stound.
Thenceforth the fether in her lofty crest,
Ruffed of loue, gan lowly to auaile,
And her prowd portaunce, and her princely gest,
With which she earst tryumphed, now did quaile:
Sad, solemne, sowre, and full of fancies fraile
She woxe; yet wist she nether how, nor why,
She wist not, silly Mayd, what she did aile,
Yet wist, she was not well at ease perdy,
Yet thought it was not loue, but some melancholy.
So soone as Night had with her pallid hew
Defaste the beautie of the shyning skye,
And reft from men the worldes desired vew,
She with her Nourse adowne to sleepe did lye;
But sleepe full far away from her did fly:
In stead thereof sad sighes, and sorrowes deepe
Kept watch and ward about her warily,
That nought she did but wayle, and often steepe
Her dainty couch with teares, which closely she did [...].
And if that any drop of slombring rest
Did chaunce to still into her weary spright,
When feeble nature felt her selfe opprest,
Streight way with dreames, and with fantastick sight
Of dreadfull things the same was put to flight,
That oft out of her bed she did astart,
As one with vew of ghastly feends affright:
Tho gan she to renew her former smart,
And thinke of that fayre visage, written in her hart.
One night, when she was tost with such vnrest,
Her aged Nourse, whose name was Glauce hight,
Feeling her leape out of her loathed nest,
Betwixt her feeble armes her quickly keight,
And downe againe her in her warme bed dight,
Ah my deare daughter, ah my dearest dread,
What vncouth fit (sayd she) what euill plight
Hath thee opprest, and with sad dreary head
Chaunged thy liuely cheare, & liuing made thee dead?
For not of nought these suddein ghastly feares
All night afflict thy naturall repose,
And all the day, when as thine equall peares
Their fit disports with faire delight doe chose,
Thou in dull corners doest thy selfe inclose,
Ne tastest Princes pleasures, ne doest spred
Abroad thy fresh youths fayrest flowre, but lose
Both leafe and fruite, both too vntimely shed,
As one in wilfull bale for euer buried.
The time, that mortall men their weary cares
Do lay away, and all wilde beastes do rest,
And euery riuer eke his course forbeares,
Then doth this wicked euill thee infest,
And riue with thousand throbs thy thrilled brest;
Like an huge Aetn' of deepe engulfed gryefe,
Sorrow is heaped in thy hollow chest,
Whence foorth it breakes in sighes and anguish ryfe,
As smoke and sulphure mingled with confufed stryfe.
Ay me, how much I feare, least loue it bee,
But if that loue it be, as sure I read
By knowen signes and passions, which I see,
Be it worthy of thy race and royall sead,
[Page 420]Then I auow by this [...] sacred head
Of my deare foster childe, to ease thy griefe,
And win thy will: Therefore away doe dread;
For death nor daunger from thy dew reliefe
Shall me debarre. tell me therefore my liefest liefe.
So hauing sayd, her twixt her armes twaine
Shee streightly straynd, and colled tenderly,
And euery trembling ioynt, and euery vaine
Shee softly felt, and rubbed busily,
To doe the frosen cold away to fly;
And her faire deawy eies with kisses deare
Shee ofte did bathe, and ofte againe did dry;
And euer her importund, not to feare
To let the secret of her hart to her appeare.
The Damzell [...], and then thus fearfully;
Ah Nurse, what needeth thee to eke my paine?
Is not enough, that I alone doe dye.
But it must doubled bee with death of twaine?
For nought for me, but death there doth remaine.
O daughter deare (said she) despeire no whit,
For neuer sore, but might a salue obtaine:
That blinded God, which hath ye blindly smit,
Another arrow hath your louers hart to hit.
But mine is not (quoth she) like other wownd;
For which no reason can finde remedy.
Was neuer such, but [...] the like be fownd,
(Said she) and though no reason may apply
Salue to your sore, yet loue can higher stye,
Then reasons reach, and oft hath wonders donne.
But neither God of loue, nor God of skye
Can doe (said she) that, which cannot be donne.
Things ofte impossible (quoth she) seeme ere begonne.
These idle wordes (said she) doe nought aswage
My stubborne [...], but more annoiaunce breed.
For no no vsuall fire, no vsuall rage
Yt is, O Nourse, which on my life doth feed,
And sucks the blood, which frō my hart doth bleed.
But since thy faithfull zele lets me not hyde
My crime, (if crime it be) I will it reed.
Nor Prince, nor pere it is, whose loue hath gryde
My feeble brest of late, and launched this wound wyde.
Nor man it is, nor other liuing wight;
For then some hope I might vnto me draw,
But th'only shade and semblant of a knight,
Whose shape or person yet I neuer saw,
Hath me subiected to loues [...] law:
The same one day, as me misfortune led,
I in my fathers wondrous mirrhour saw,
And pleased with that seeming goodly-hed,
Vnwares the hidden hooke with baite I swallowed.
Sithens it hath infixed faster hold
Within my bleeding bowells, and so sore
Now ranckleth in this same fraile fleshly mould,
That all mine entrailes flow with poisnous gore,
And th'vlcer groweth daily more and more;
Ne can my ronning sore finde remedee,
Other then my hard fortune to deplore,
And languish as the leafe faln from the tree,
Till death make one end of my [...] and miseree.
Daughter (said she) what needye be dismayd,
Or why make ye such Monster of your minde?
Of much more vncouth thing I was affrayd;
Of filthy lust, contrary vnto kinde:
[Page 422]But this affection nothing [...] I fi nde;
For who with reason can you aye reproue,
To loue the semblaunt pleasing most your minde,
And yield your heart, whence ye cannot remoue?
No guilt in you, but in the tyranny of loue.
Not so th' Arabian Myrrhe did sett her mynd,
Not so did Biblis spend her pining hart,
But lou'd their natiue flesh against al kynd,
And to their purpose vsed wicked art:
Yet playd Pasiphaë a more monstrous part,
That lou'd a Bul, and learnd a beast to bee;
Such shamefull lusts who loaths not, which depart
From course of nature and of [...]?
Swete loue such lewdnes bands from his faire cōpanee.
But thine my Deare (welfare thy heart my deare)
Though straunge beginning had, yet fixed is
On one, that worthy may perhaps appeare;
And certes seemes bestowed not amis:
Ioy there of haue thou and eternall blis.
With that vpleaning on her elbow weake,
Her alablaster brest she soft did kis,
Which all that while shee felt to pant and quake,
As it an Earth-quake were, at last she thus bespake.
Beldame, your words doe worke me litle ease;
For though my loue be not so lewdly bent,
As those ye blame, yet may it nought appease
My raging smart, ne ought my flame relent,
But rather doth my helpelesse griefe augment.
Fòr they, how euer shamefull and vnkinde,
Yet did possesse their horrible intent:
Short end of sorowes they therby did finde;
So was their fortune good, though wicked were their minde.
But wicked fortune mine, though minde be good,
Can haue no end, nor hope of my desire,
But feed on shadowes, whiles I die for food,
And like a shadow wexe, whiles with entire
Affection, I doe languish and expire.
I fonder, then Cephisus foolish chyld,
Who hauing vewed in a fountaine shere
His face, was with the loue thereof beguyld;
I fonder loue a shade, the body far exyld.
Nought like (quoth shee) for that same wretched boy
Was of him selfe the ydle Paramoure;
Both loue and louer, without hope of ioy,
For which he faded to a watry flowre.
But better fortune thine, and better howre,
Which lou'st the shadow of a warlike knight;
No shadow, but a body hath in powre:
That body, wheresoeuer that it light,
May learned be by cyphers, or by Magicke might.
But if thou may with reason yet represse
The growing euill, ere it strength haue gott,
And thee abandond wholy doe possesse,
Against it strongly striue, and yield thee nott,
Til thou in open fielde adowne be smott.
But if the passion mayster thy fraile might,
So that needs loue or death must bee thy lott,
Then I auow to thee, by wrong or right
To compas thy desire, and find that loued knight.
Her chearefull words much cheard the feeble spright
Of the sicke virgin, that her downe she layd
In her warme bed to sleepe, if that she might;
And the old-woman carefully displayd
[Page 424]The clothes about her round with busy ayd,
So that at last a litle creeping sleepe
Surprisd her sence: Shee therewith well apayd,
The dronken lamp down in the oyl did steepe,
And sett her by to watch, and sett her by to weepe.
Earely the morrow next, before that day
His ioyous face did to the world reuele,
They both vprose, and tooke their ready way
Vnto the Church, their praiers to appele,
With great deuotion, and with litle zel e:
For the faire Damzel from the holy herse
Her loue-sicke hart to other thoughts did steale;
And that old Dame said many an idle verse,
Out of her daughters hart fond fancies to reuerse.
Retourned home, the royall Infant [...]
Into her former fitt; for why no powre,
Nor guidaunce of her selfe in her did dwell.
But th'aged Nourse her calling to her bowre,
Had gathered Rew, and Sauine, and the flowre
Of Camphora, and Calamint, and Dill,
All which she in a [...] Pot did poure,
And to the brim with Colt wood did it fill,
And many drops of milk and blood through it did spill.
Then taking thrise three heares from of her head,
Then trebly breaded in a threefold [...],
And round about the Pots mouth, boūd the thread,
And after hauing whispered a space
Certein sad words, with hollow voice and bace,
Shee to the virgin sayd; thrise sayd she itt;
Come daughter come, come; spit vpon my face,
Spitt thrise vpon me, thrise vpon me spitt;
Th'vneuen nomber for this busines is most fitt.
That sayd, her rownd about she from her turnd,
She turned her contrary to the Sunne,
Thrife she her turnd contrary, and returnd,
All contrary, for she the right did shunne,
And euer what she did, was streight vndonne.
So thought she to vndoe her daughters loue:
But loue, that is in gentle brest begonne,
No ydle charmes so lightly may remoue,
That well can witnesse, who by tryall it does proue.
Ne ought it mote the noble Mayd auayle,
Ne slake the fury of her cruell flame,
But that shee still did waste, and still did wayle,
That through long languour, & hart-burning brame
She shortly like a pyned ghost became,
Which long hath waited by the Stygian strond.
That when old Glauce saw, for feare least blame
Of her miscarriage should in her be fond,
She wist not how t'amend, nor how it to withstond.
Cant. III.
Merlin bewrayes to Britomart,
The state of Arthegall.
And shews the famous Progeny
Which from them springen shall.
MOst sacred fyre, that burnest mightily
In liuing brests, ykindled first aboue,
Emongst th'eternall spheres and lamping sky,
And thence pourd into men, which men call Loue;
[Page 426]Not that same, which doth base affections moue
In brutish mindes, and filthy Iust inflame,
But that sweete fit, that doth true beautie loue,
And choseth vertue for his dearest Dame.
Whence spring all noble deedes and neuer dying same:
Well did Antiquity a God thee deeme,
That ouer mortall mindes hast so great might,
To order them, as best to thee doth seeme,
And all their actions to direct aright;
The fatall purpose of diuine foresight,
Thou doest effect in destined descents,
Through deepe impression of thy secret might,
And stirredst vp th'Heroes high intents,
Which the late world admyres for wōdrous monimēts
But thy dredd dartes in none doe triumph more,
Ne brauer proofe in any, of thy powre
Shew'dst thou, then in this royall Maid of yore,
Making her seeke an vnknowne Paramoure,
From the worlds end, through many a bitter stowre:
From whose two loynes thou afterwardes did rayse
Most famous fruites of matrimoniall bowre,
Which through the earth haue spredd their liuing prayse,
That fame in tromp of gold eternally displayes.
Begin then, O my dearest sacred Dame,
Daughter of Phoebus and of Memorye,
That doest ennoble with immortall name
The warlike Worthies, from antiquitye,
In thy great volume of Eternitye:
Begin, O Clio, and recount from hence
My glorious Soueraines goodly auncestrye,
Till that by dew degrees and long protense,
Thou haue it lastly brought vnto her Excellence.
Full many wayes within her troubled mind,
Old Glauce cast, to cure this Ladies griefe:
Full many waies she sought, but none could find,
Nor herbes, nor charmes, nor counsel that is chiefe,
And choisest med'cine for sick harts reliefe:
For thy great care she tooke, and greater feare,
Least that it should her turne to fowle repriese,
And sore reproch, when so her father deare
Should of his dearest daughters hard misfortune heare.
At last she her auisde, that he, which made
That mirrhour, wherein the sicke Damosell
So straungely vewed her straunge louers shade,
To weet, the learned Merlin, well could tell,
Vnder what coast of heauen the man did dwell,
And by what means his loue might best be wrought:
For though beyond the Africk Ismael,
Or th'Indian Peru he were, she thought
Him forth through infinite endeuour to haue sought.
Forth with them selues disguising both in straunge
And base atyre, that none might them bewray,
To Maridunum, that is now by chaunge
Of name Cayr-Merdin cald, they tooke their way:
There the wise Merlin whylome wont (they say)
To make his wonne, low vnderneath the ground,
In a deepe delue, farre from the vew of day,
That of no liuing wight he mote be found,
When so he coūseld with his sprights encōpast round.
And if thou euer happen that same way
To traueill, go to see that dreadful place:
It is an hideous hollow caue (they say)
Vnder a Rock that lyes a litle space
[Page 428]From the swift, Barry, tombling downe apace,
Emongst the woody hilles of Dyneuowre:
But dare thou not, I charge, in any cace,
To enter into that same balefull Bowre,
For feare the cruell Feendes should thee vnwares deuowre.
But standing high aloft, low lay thine eare,
And there such ghastly noyse of yron chaines,
And brasen Caudrons thou shalt rombling heare,
Which thousand sprights with long enduring paines
Doe tosse, that it will stonn thy feeble braines,
And oftentimes great grones, & grieuous stownds,
When too huge toile and labour them constraines:
And oftentimes loud strokes, and ringing sowndes
From vnder that deepe Rock most horribly rebowndes.
The cause some say is this: A litle whyle
Before that Merlin dyde, he did intend,
A brasen wall in compas to compyle
About Cairmardin, and did it commend
Vnto these Sprights, to bring to perfect end.
During which worke the Lady of the Lake,
Whom long he lou'd, for him in hast did send,
Who thereby forst his workemen to forsake,
Them bownd till his retourne, their labour not to slake.
In the meane time through that false Ladies traine,
He was surprisd, and buried vnder beare,
Ne euer to his worke returnd againe:
Nath'lesse those feends may not their work forbeare,
So greatly his commandement they feare,
But there doe toyle and traueile day and night,
Vntill that brasen wall they vp doe reare:
For Merlin had in Magick more insight,
Then euer him before or after liuing wight.
For he by wordes could call out of the sky
Both Sunne and Moone, and make them him obay:
The Land to sea, and sea to maineland dry,
And darksom night he eke could turne to day:
Huge hostes of men he could alone dismay,
And hostes of men of meanest thinges could frame,
When so him list his enimies to fray:
That to this day for terror of his fame,
The feends do quake, whē any him to them does name.
And sooth, men say that he was not the sonne
Of mortall Syre, or other liuing wight,
But wondrously begotten, and begonne
By false illusion of a guilefull Spright,
On a faire Lady Nonne, that whilome hight
Matilda, daughter to Pubidius,
Who was the Lord of Mathraual by right,
And coosen vnto king Ambrosius:
Whence he indued was with skill so merueilous.
They here ariuing, staid a while without,
Ne durst aduenture rashly in to wend,
But of their first intent gan make new dout
For dread of daunger, which it might portend:
Vntill the hardy Mayd (with loue to frend)
First entering, the dreadfull Mage there fownd
Deepe busied bout worke of wondrous end,
And writing straunge characters in the grownd,
With which the stubborne seendes he to his seruice bownd.
He nought was moued at their entraunce bold:
For of their comming well he wist afore,
Yet list them bid their businesse to vnfold,
As if ought in this world in secrete store
[Page 430]Were from him hidden, or vnknowne of yore.
Then Glauce thus, let not it thee offend,
That we thus rashly through thy darksom dore,
Vnwares haue prest: for either fatall end,
Or other mightie cause vs two did hether send.
He bad tell on; And then she thus began.
Now haue three Moones with borrowd brothers light,
Thrise shined faire, and thrise seemd dim and wan,
Sith a sore euill, which this virgin bright
Tormenteth, and doth plonge in dolefull plight,
First rooting tooke; but what thing it mote bee,
Or whence it sprong, I can not read aright:
But this I read, that but if remedee,
Thou her afford, full shortly I her dead shall see.
Therewith th'Enchaunter softly gan to smyle
At her smooth speeches, weeting inly well,
That she to him dissembled [...] guyle,
And to her said, Beldame, by that ye tell,
More neede ofleach-crafte hath your Damozell,
Then of my skill: who helpe may haue elswhere,
In vaine seekes wonders out of Magick spell.
Th'old womā wox half blanck, those words to heare;
And yet was loth to let her purpose plaine appeare.
And to him said, Yf any leaches skill,
Or other learned meanes could haue redrest
This my deare daughters deepe engraffed ill,
Certes I should be loth thee to molest:
But this sad euill, which doth her infest,
Doth course of naturall cause farre exceed,
And housed is within her hollow brest,
That either seemes some cursed witches deed,
Or euill spright, that in her doth such torment breed.
The wisard could no lenger beare her bord,
But brusting forth in laughter, to her sayd;
Glauce, what needes this colourable word,
To cloke the cause, that hath it selfe bewrayd?
Ne ye fayre Britomartis, thus arayd,
More hidden are, then Sunne in cloudy vele;
Whom thy good fortune, hauing fate obayd,
Hath hether brought, for succour to appele:
The which the powres to thee are pleased to reuele.
The doubtfull Mayd, seeing her selfe descryde,
Was all abasht, and her pure yuory
Into a cleare Carnation suddeine dyde;
As fayre Aurora rysing hastily,
Doth by her blushing tell, that she did lye
All night in old Tithonus frosen bed,
Whereof she seemes ashamed inwardly.
But her olde Nourse was nought dishartened,
But vauntage made of that, which Merlin had ared.
And sayd, Sith then thou knowest all our griefe,
(For what doest not thou knowe?) of grace I pray,
Pitty our playnt, and yield vs meet reliefe.
With that the Prophet still awhile did stay,
And then his spirite thus gan foorth display;
Most noble Virgin, that by fatall lore
Hast learn'd to loue, let no whit thee dismay
The hard beginne, that meetes thee in the dore,
And with sharpe fits thy tender hart oppresseth sore.
For so must all things excellent begin,
And eke enrooted deepe must be that Tree,
Whose big embodied braunches shall not lin,
Till they to heuens hight forth stretched bee.
[Page 432]For from thy wombe a famous Progenee
Shall spring, out of the auncient Troian blood,
Which shall reuiue the sleeping memoree
Of those same antique Peres, the heuens brood,
Which Greeke & Asian riuers stayned with their blood.
Renowmed kings, and sacred Emperours,
Thy fruitfull Ofspring, shall from thee descend;
Braue Captaines, and most mighty warriours,
That shall their conquests through all lands extend,
And their decayed kingdomes shall amend:
The feeble Britons, broken with long warre,
They shall vpreare, and mightily defend
Against their forren foe, that commes from farre,
Till vniuersall peace compound all ciuill iarre.
It was not, Britomart, thy wandring eye,
Glauncing vnwares in charmed looking glas,
But the streight course of heuenly destiny,
Led with eternall prouidence, that has
Guyded thy glaunce, to bring his will to pas:
Ne is thy fate, ne is thy fortune ill,
To louc the prowest knight, that euer was.
Therefore submit thy wayes vnto his will,
And doe by all'dew meanes thy destiny fulfill.
But read (saide Glauce) thou Magitian
What meanes shall she out seeke, or what waies take?
How shall she know, how shall she finde the man?
Or what needes her to toyle, sith fates can make
Way for themselues, their purpose to pertake?
Then Merlin thus, Indeede the fates are firme,
And may not shrinck, though all the world do [...]:
Yet ought mens good endeuours them confirme,
And guyde the heauenly causes to their constant terme.
The man whom heauens haue ordaynd to bee
The spouse of Britomart, is Arthegall:
He wonneth in the land of Fayeree,
Yet is no Fary borne, ne sib at all
To Elfes, but sprong of seed terrestriall,
And whylome by false Faries stolne away,
Whyles yet in infant cradle he did crall;
Ne other to himselfe is knowne this day,
But that he by an Elfe was gotten of a Fay.
But sooth he is the sonne of Gorlois,
And brother vnto Cador Cornish king,
And for his warlike feates renowmed is,
From where the day out of the sea doth spring,
Vntill the closure of the Euening.
From thence, him firmely bound with faithfull band,
To this his natiue soyle thou backe shalt bring,
Strongly to ayde his countrey, to withstand
The powre of forreine Paynims, which invade thy land.
Great ayd thereto his mighty puissaunce,
And dreaded name shall giue in that sad day:
Where also proofe of thy prow valiaunce
Thou then shalt make, t'increase thy louers pray.
Long time ye both in armes shall beare great sway,
Till thy wombes burden thee from them do call,
And his last fate him from thee take away,
Too rathe cut off by practise criminall,
Of secrete foes, that him shall make in mischiefe fall.
With thee yet shall he leaue for memory
Of his late puissaunce, his ymage dead,
That liuing him in all actiuity
To thee shall represent. He from the head
[Page 434]Of his coosen Constantius without dread
Shall take the crowne, that was his fathers right,
And therewith crowne himselfe in th'others stead:
Then shall he issew forth with dreadfull might,
Against his Saxon foes in bloody field to fight.
Like as a Lyon, that in drowsie caue
Hath long time slept, himselfe so shall he shake,
And comming forth, shall spred his banner braue
Ouer the troubled South, that it shall make
The warlike Mertians for feare to quake:
Thrise shall he fight with them, and twise shall win,
But the third time shall fayre accordaunce make:
And if he then with victorie can lin,
He shall his dayes with peace bring to his earthly In.
His sonne, hight Vortipore, shall him succeede
In kingdome, but not in felicity;
Yet shall he long time warre with happy speed,
And with great honour many batteills try:
But at the last to th importunity
Of froward fortune shall be forst to yield.
But his sonne Malgo shall full mightily
Auenge his fathers losse, with speare and shield,
And his proud foes discomfit in victorious field.
Behold the man, and tell me Britomart,
If ay more goodly creature thou didst see;
How like a Gyaunt in each manly part
Beares he himselfe with portly maiestee,
That one of th'old Heroes seemes to bee:
He the six Islands, comprouinciall
In auncient times vnto great Britainee,
Shall to the same reduce, and to him call
Their sondry kings to doe their homage seuerall.
All which his sonne Careticus awhile
Shall well defend, and Saxons powre suppresse,
Vntill a straunger king from vnknowne soyle
Arriuing, him with multitude oppresse;
Great Gormond, hauing with huge mightinesse
Ireland [...], and therein fixt his throne,
Like a swift Otter, fell through emptinesse,
Shall ouerswim the sea with many one
Of his Norueyses, to assist the Britons fone.
He in his furie all shall ouerronne,
And holy Church with faithlesse handes deface,
That thy sad people vtterly fordonne,
Shall to the vtmost mountaines fly apace:
Was neuer so great waste in any place,
Nor so fowle outrage doen by liuing men:
For all thy Citties they shall sacke and race,
And the greene grasse, that groweth, they shall bren,
That euen the wilde beast shall dy in starued den.
Whiles thus thy Britons [...] in languour pine,
Proud Etheldred shall from the North arise,
Seruing th'ambitious will of Augustine,
And passing Dee with hardy enterprise,
Shall backe repulse the valiaunt Brockwell twise,
And Bangor with massacred Martyrs fill;
But the third time shall rew his foolhardise:
For Cadwan pittying his peoples ill,
Shall stoutly him defeat, and thousand Saxons kill.
But after him, Cadwallin mightily
On his sonne Edwin all those wrongs shall wreake;
Ne shall auaile the wicked sorcery
Of falfe [...], his purposes to breake,
[Page 436]But him shall slay, and on a gallowes bleak
Shall giue th'enchaunter his vnhappy hire:
Then shall the Britons, late dismayd and weake,
From their long vassallage gin to respire,
And on their Paynim foes auenge their ranckled ire.
Ne shall he yet his wrath so mitigate,
Till both the sonnes of Edwin he haue slayne,
Offricke and Osricke, twinnes vnfortunate,
Both slaine in battaile vpon Layburne playne,
Together with the king of Louthiane,
Hight Adin, and the king of Orkeny,
Both ioynt partakers of their fatall payne:
But Penda, fearefull of like desteny,
Shall yield him selfe his liegeman, and sweare fealty.
Him shall he make his fatall Instrument,
T'afflict the other Saxons [...];
He marching forth with fury insolent
Against the good king Oswald, who indewd
With heauenly powre, and by Angels reskewd,
Al holding crosses in their hands on hye,
Shall him defeate [...] blood imbrewd:
Of which, that field for endlesse memory,
Shall Hevenfield be cald to all posterity.
Whereat Cadwallin wroth, shall forth issew,
And an huge hoste into Northumber lead,
With which he godly Oswald shall subdew,
And crowne with martiredome his sacred head.
Whose brother Oswin, daunted with like dread,
With price of siluer shall his kingdome buy,
And Penda seeking him adowne to tread,
Shall tread adowne, and doe him fowly dye,
But shall with guists his Lord Cadwallin pacify.
Then shall Cadwallin die, and then the raine
Of Britons eke with him attonce shall dye;
Ne shall the good Cadwallader with paine,
Or powre, be hable it to remedy,
When the full time prefixt by destiny,
Shalbe expird of Britons regiment.
For heuen it selfe shall their successe enuy,
And them with plagues and murrins pestilent
Consume, till all their warlike puissaunce be spent.
Yet after all these sorrowes, and huge hills
Of dying people, during eight yeares space,
Cadwallader not yielding to his ills,
From Armoricke, where long in wretched cace
He liu'd, retourning to his natiue place,
Shalbe by vision staide from his intent:
Forth'heauens haue decreed, to displace
The Britons, for their sinnes dew punishment,
And to the Saxons ouer-give their gouernment.
Then woe, and woe, and euerlasting woe,
Be to the Briton babe, that shalbe borne,
To liue in thraldome of his fathers foe;
Late king, now captiue, late lord, now forlorne,
The worlds reproch, the cruell victors scorne,
Banisht from princely bowre to wasteful wood:
O who shal helpe me to lament, and mourne
The royall seed, the antique Troian blood,
Whose empire lenger here, then euer any stood.
The Damzell was full deepe empassioned,
Both for his griefe, and for her peoples sake,
Whose future woes so plaine he fashioned,
And sighing sore, at length him thus bespake;
[Page 438]Ah but will heuens fury neuer slake,
Nor vengeaunce huge relent it selfe at last?
Will not long misery late mercy make,
But shall their name for euer be defaste,
And quite from th'earth their memory be raste?
Nay but the terme (sayd he) is limited,
That in this thraldome Britons shall abide,
And the iust reuolution measured,
That they as Straungers shalbe notifide.
For twise fowre hundreth yeares shalbe supplide,
Ere they vnto their former rule restor'd shalbee.
And their importune fates all satisfide:
Yet during this their most obscuritee,
Their beames shall ofte breake forth, that men thē faire may see.
For Rhodcricke, whose surname shalbe Great,
Shall of him selfe a braue ensample shew,
That Saxon kings his frendship shall intreat;
And Howell Dha shall goodly well indew
The saluage minds with skill of iust and trew;
Then Griffyth Conan also shall vp reare
His dreaded head, and the old sparkes renew
Of natiue corage, that his foes shall feare,
Least back againe the kingdom he from them should beare.
Ne shall the Saxons selues all peaceably
Enioy the crowne, which they from Britons wonne
First ill, and after ruled wickedly:
For ere two hundred yeares be full outronne,
There shall a Rauen far from rising Sunne,
With his wide wings vpon them fiercely fly,
And bid his faithlesse chickens oueronne
The fruitfull plaines, and with fell cruelty,
In their auenge, tread downe the victors surquedry.
Yet shall a third both these, and thine subdew;
There shall a Lion from the sea-bord wood
Of Neustria come roring, with a crew
Of [...] whelpes, his battailous bold brood,
Whose clawes were newly dipt in cruddy blood,
That from the Daniske Tyrants head shall rend
Th'vsurped crowne, as if that he were wood,
And the spoile of the countrey conquered
Emongst his young ones shall diuide with bountyhed.
Tho when the terme is full accomplishid,
There shall a sparke of fire, which hath long-while
Bene in his ashes raked vp, and hid,
Bee freshly kindled in the fruitfull Ile
Of Mona, where it lurked in exile;
Which shall breake forth into bright burning flame,
And reach into the house, that beares the stile
Of roiall maiesty and soueraine name;
So shall the Briton blood their crowne agayn reclame.
[...] eternall vnion shall be made
Betweene the nations different afore,
And sacred Peace shall louingly persuade
The warlike minds, to learne her goodly lore,
And ciuile armes to exercise no more:
Then shall a royall Virgin raine, which shall
Stretch her white rod ouer the Belgicke shore,
And the great Castle smite so sore with all,
That it shall make him shake, and shortly learn to fall.
But yet the end is not. There Merlin stayd,
As ouercomen of the spirites powre,
Or other ghastly spectacle dismayd,
That secretly he saw, yet note discoure:
[Page 440]Which suddein fitt, and halfe extatick stoure
When the two fearefull wemen saw, they grew
Greatly confused in behaueoure;
At last the fury past, to former hew
Shee turnd againe, and chearfull looks did shew.
Then, when them selues they well instructed had
Of all, that needed them to be inquird,
They both conceiuing hope of comfort glad,
With lighter hearts vnto their home retird;
Where they in secret counsell close conspird,
How to effect so hard an enterprize,
And to possesse the purpose they desird:
Now this, now that twixt them they did deuize,
And diuerse plots did frame, to maske in strāge disguise.
At last the Nourse in her foolhardy wit
Conceiud abold deuise, and thus bespake;
Daughter, I deeme that counsel aye most fit,
That of the time doth dew aduauntage take;
Ye see that good king Vther now doth make
Strong warre vpon the Paynim brethren, hight
Octa and Oza, whome hee lately brake
Beside Cayr Verolame, in victorious fight,
That now all Britany doth burne in armes bright.
That therefore nought our passage may empeach,
Let vs in feigned armes our selues disguize,
And our weake hands (need makes good schollers) teach.
The dreadful speare and shield to exercize:
Ne certes daughter that same [...] wize
I weene, would you misseeme; for ye beene tall,
And large of limbe, t'atchieue an hard emprize,
Ne ought ye want, but skil, which practize small
Wil bring, and shortly make you a mayd Martiall.
And sooth, it ought your corage much inflame,
To heare so often, in that royall hous,
From whence to none inferior ye came:
Bards tell of many wemen valorous,
Which haue full many feats aduenturous,
Performd, in paragone of proudest men:
The bold Bunduca, whose victorious
Exployts made Rome to quake, stout Guendolen,
Renowmed Martia, and redoubted Emmilen.
And that, which more then all the rest may sway
Late dayes ensample, which these eyes beheld,
In the last field before Meneuia
Which Vther with those forrein Pagans held,
I saw a Saxon Virgin, the which feld
Great Vlfin thrise vpon the bloodly playne,
And had not Carados her hand withheld
From rash reuenge, she had him surely slayne,
Yet Carados himselfe from her escapt with payne.
Ah read, (quoth Britomart) how is she hight?
Fayre Angela (quoth she) men do her call,
No whit lesse fayre, then terrible in fight:
She hath the leading of a Martiall
And mightie people, dreaded more then all
The other Saxons, which doe for her sake
And loue, themselues of her name Angles call.
Therefore faire Infant her ensample make
Vnto thy selfe, and equall corage to thee take.
Her harty wordes so deepe into the mynd
Of the yong Damzell sunke, that great desire
Of warlike armes in her forth with they tynd,
And generous stout courage did inspyre,
[Page 442]That she [...], vnweeting to her Syre,
Aduent'rous knighthood on her selfe to don,
And counseld with her Nourse, her Maides attyre
To turne into a massy habergeon,
And bad her all things put in readinesse anon.
Th'old woman nought, that needed, did omit;
But all thinges did conueniently puruay:
It fortuned (so time their turne did fitt)
A band of Britons ryding on forray
Few dayes before, had gotten a great pray
Of Saxon goods, emongst the which was seene
A goodly Armour, and full rich aray,
Which long'd to Angela, the Saxon Queene,
All fretted round with gold, and goodly wel beseene.
The same, with all the other ornaments,
King Ryence caused to be hanged [...]
In his chiefe Church, for endlesse moniments
Of his successe and gladfull victory:
Of which her selfe auising readily,
In th'euening late old Glauce thether led
Faire Britomart, and that same Armory
Downe taking, her therein appareled,
Well as she might, & with braue bauldrick garnished.
Beside those armes there stood a mightie speare,
Which Bladud made by Magick art of yore,
And vsd the same in batteill aye to beare;
Sith which it had beene here preseru'd in store,
For his great vertues proued long afore:
For neuer wight so fast in sell could sit,
But him perforce vnto the ground it bore:
Both speare she tooke, and shield, which hong by it;
Both speare & shield of great powre, for her purpose fit
Thus when she had the virgin all arayd,
Another harnesse, which did hang thereby,
About her selfe she dight, that the yong Mayd
She might in equall armes accompany,
And as her Squyre [...] her carefully:
Tho to their ready Steedes they clombe full light,
And through back waies, that none might thē espy,
Couered with secret cloud of silent night,
Themselues they forth conuaid, & passed forward right.
Ne rested they, till that to Faery lond
They came, as Merlin them directed late:
Where meeting with this Redcrosse knight, she fond
Of diuerse thinges discourses to dilate,
But most of Arthegall, and his estate.
At last their wayes so fell, that they mote part:
Then each to other well affectionate,
Frendship professed with vnfained hart,
The Redcrosse knight diuerst, but forth rode Britomart.
Cant. IIII.
Bold Marinell of Britomart,
Is throwne on the Rich strond:
Faire Florimell of Arthure is
Long followed, but not fond.
WHere is the Antique glory now become,
That whylome wont in wemen to appeare?
Where be the braue atchieuements doen by some?
Where be the batteilles, where the shield & speare,
And all the conquests, which them high did reare,
That matter made for famous Poets verse,
And boastfull men so oft abasht to heare?
Beene they all dead, and laide in dolefull herse?
Or doen they onely sleepe, and shall againe reuerse?
If they be dead, then woe is me therefore:
But if they sleepe, O let them soone awake:
For all too long I burne with enuy sore,
To heare the warlike feates, which Homere spake
Of bold Penthesilee, which made a lake
Of Greekish blood so ofte in Troian plaine;
But when I reade, how stout Debora strake
Proud Sisera, and how Camill' hath slaine
The huge Orsilochus, I swell with great disdaine.
Yet these, and all that els had puissaunce,
Cannot with noble Britomart compare,
Aswell for glorie of great valiaunce,
As for pure chastitie and vertue rare,
[Page 445]That all her goodly deedes do well declare.
Well worthie stock, frō which the branches sprong,
That in late yeares so faire a blossome bare,
As thee, O Queene, the matter of my song,
Whose lignage from this Lady I deriue along.
Who when through speaches with the Redcrosse knight,
She learned had th'estate of Arthegall,
And in each point her selfe informd aright,
A frendly league of loue perpetuall
She with him bound, and Congé tooke withall.
Then he forth on his iourney did proceede,
To seeke aduentures, which mote him befall,
And win him worship through his warlike deed,
Which alwaies of his paines he made the chiefest meed
But Britomart kept on her former course,
Ne euer dofte her armes, but all the way
Grew pensiue through that amarous discourse,
By which the Redcrosse knight did earst [...]
Her louers shape, and cheualrous aray;
A thousand thoughts she fashiond in her mind,
And in her seigning fancie did pourtray
Him such, as fittest he for loue could find,
Wife, warlike, personable, courteous, and kind.
With such selfe-pleasing thoughts her wound she fedd,
And thought so to beguile her grieuous smart;
But so her smart was much more grieuous bredd,
And the deepe wound more deep engord her hart,
That nought but death her dolour mote depart.
So forth she rode without repose or rest,
Searching all lands and each remotest part,
Following the guy daunce of her blinded guest,
Till that to the seacoast at length she her addrest.
There she alighted from her light-foot beast,
And sitting downe vpon the rocky shore,
Badd her old Squyre vnlace her lofty creast;
Tho hauing vewd a while the surges hore,
That gainst the craggy clifts did loudly rore,
And in their raging surquedry disdaynd,
That the fast earth affronted them so sore,
And their deuouring couetize restraynd,
Thereat she sighed deepe, and after thus complaynd.
Huge sea of sorrow, and tempestuous griefe,
Wherein my feeble barke is tossed long,
Far from the hoped hauen of reliefe,
Why doe thy cruel billowes beat so strong,
And thy moyst mountaines each on others throng,
Threatning to swallow vp my fearefull lyfe?
O doe thy cruell wrath and spightfull wrong
At length allay, and stint thy stormy stryfe,
Which in thy troubled bowels raignes, & rageth ryfe.
For els my feeble vessell crazd, and crackt
Through thy strong buffets and outrageous blowes,
Cannot endure, but needes it must be wrackt
On the rough rocks, or on the sandy shallowes,
The whiles that loue it steres, and fortune rowes;
Loue my lewd Pilott hath a restlesse minde
And fortune Boteswaine no assuraunce knowes,
But saile withouten starres, gainst tyde and winde:
How can they other doe, sith both are bold and blinde?
Thou God of windes, that raignest in the seas,
That raignest also in the Continent,
At last blow vp some gentle gale of ease,
The which may bring my ship, ere it be rent,
[Page 447]Vnto the gladsome port of her intent:
Then when I shall my selfe in safety see,
A table for eternall moniment
Of thy great grace, and my great ieopardee,
Great Neptune, I avow to hallow vnto thee.
Then sighing softly sore, and inly deepe,
She shut vp all her plaint in priuy griefe;
For her great courage would not let her weepe,
Till that old Glauce gan with sharpe repriefe,
Her to restraine, and giue her good reliefe,
Through hope of those, which Merlin had her told
Should of her name and nation be chiefe,
And fetch their being from the sacred mould
Of her immortall womb, to be in heauen enrold.
Thus as she her recomforted, she spyde,
Where far away one all in armour bright,
With hasty gallop towards her did ryde;
Her dolour soone she ceast, and on her dight
Her Helmet, to her Courser mounting light:
Her former sorrow into suddein wrath,
Both coosen passions of distroubled spright,
Conuerting, forth she beates the dusty path;
Loue and despight attonce her courage kindled hath.
As when a foggy mist hath ouercast
The face of heuen, and the cleare ayre engroste,
The world in darkenes dwels, till that at last
The watry Southwinde from the seabord coste
Vpblowing, doth disperse the vapour lo'ste,
And poures it selfe forth in a stormy showre;
So the fayre Britomart hauing disclo'ste
Her clowdy care into a wrathfull stowre,
The mist of griefe dissolu'd, did into vengeance powre.
Eftsoones her goodly shield addressing fayre,
That mortall speare she in her hand did take,
And vnto battaill did her selfe prepayre.
The knight approching, sternely her bespake;
Sir knight, that doest thy voyage rashly make
By this forbidden way in my despight,
Ne doest by others death ensample take,
I read thee soone retyre, whiles thou [...] might,
Least afterwards it be too late to take thy flight.
Ythrild with deepe disdaine of his proud threat,
She shortly thus; Fly they, that need to fly;
Wordes fearen babes. I meane not thee entreat
To passe; but maugre thee will passe or dy.
Ne lenger stayd forth'other to reply,
But with sharpe speares the rest made dearly knowne.
Strongly the straunge knight ran, and sturdily
Strooke her full on the brest, that made her downe
Decline her head, & touch her crouper with her crown.
But she againe him in the shield did smite
With so fierce furie and great puissaunce,
That through his three square scuchin percing quite,
And through his may [...] hauberque, by mischaunce
The wicked steele through his left side did glaunce;
Him so transfixed she before her bore
Beyond his croupe, the length of all her launce,
Till sadly soucing on the sandy shore,
He tombled on an heape, and wallowd in his gore.
Like as the sacred Oxe, that carelesse stands,
With gilden hornes, and flowry girlonds crownd,
Proud of his dying honor and deare bandes,
Whiles th'altars fume with frankincense [...],
[Page 449]All suddeinly with mortall stroke astownd,
Doth groueling fall, and with his streaming gore
Distaines the pillours, and the holy grownd,
And the faire flowres, that decked him asore;
So fell proud Marinell vpon the pretious shore.
The martiall Mayd stayd not him to lament,
But forward rode, and kept her ready way
Along the strond, which as she ouer-went,
She saw bestrowed all with rich aray
Of pearles and pretious stones of great assay,
And all the grauell mixt with golden owre;
Whereat she wondred much, but would not stay
For gold, or perles, or pretious stones an howre,
But them despised all; for all was in her powre.
Whiles thus he lay in deadly stonishment,
Tydings hereof came to his mothers eare;
His mother was the blacke-browd Cymocnt,
The daughter of great Nereus, which did beare
This warlike sonne vnto an earthly peare,
The famous Dumarin; who on a day
Finding the Nymph a sleepe in secret wheare,
As he by chaunce did wander that same way,
Was taken with her loue, and by her closely lay.
There he this knight of her begot, whom borne
She of his father Marinell did name,
And in a rocky caue as wight forlorne,
Long time she fostred vp, till he became
A mighty man at armes, and mickle fame
Did get through great aduentures by him donne:
For neuer man he suffred by that same
Rich strond to trauell, whereas he did wonne,
But that he must do battail with the Sea-nymphes sonne
An hundred knights of honorable name
He had subdew'd, and them his vassals made,
That through all Farie lond his noble fame
Now blazed was, and feare did all inuade,
That none durst passen through that perilous glade.
And to aduaunce his name and glory more,
Her Sea-god syre she dearely did perswade,
T'endow her sonne with threasure and rich store,
Boue all the sonnes, that were of earthly wombesybore.
The God did graunt his daughters deare demaund,
To doen his Nephew in all riches flow;
Eftsoones his heaped waues he did commaund,
Out of their hollow bosome forth to throw
All the huge threasure, which the sea below
Had in his greedy gulfe deuoured [...],
And him enriched through the ouerthrow
And wreckes of many wretches, which did weepe,
And often wayle their wealth, which he from them did keepe.
Shortly vpon that shore there heaped was,
Exceeding riches and all pretious things,
The spoyle of all the world, that it did pas
The wealth of th'East, and pompe of Persian kings;
Gold, amber, yuorie, perles, owches, rings,
And all that els was pretious and deare,
The sea vnto him voluntary brings,
That shortly he a great Lord did appeare,
As was in all the lond of Faery, or else wheare.
Thereto he was a doughty dreaded knight,
Tryde often to the scath of many Deare,
That none in equall armes him matchen might,
The which his mother seeing, gan to feare
[Page 451]Least his too haughtie hardines might reare
Some hard mishap, in hazard of his life:
For thy she oft him counseld to forbeare
The bloody batteill, and to stirre vp strife,
But after all his warre, to rest his wearie knife.
And for his more assuraunce, she inquir'd
One day of Proteus by his mighty spell,
(For Proteus was with prophecy inspir'd)
Her deare sonnes destiny to her to tell,
And the sad end of her sweet Marinell.
Who through foresight of his eternall skill,
Bad her from womankind to keepe him well:
For of a woman he should haue much ill,
A virgin straunge and stout him should dismay, or kill.
For thy she gaue him warning euery day,
The loue of women not to entertaine;
A lesson too too hard for liuing clay,
From loue in course of nature to refraine:
Yet he his mothers lore did well retaine,
And euer from fayre Ladies loue did fly;
Yet many Ladies fayre did oft complaine,
That they for loue of him would algates dy:
Dy, who so list for him, he was loues enimy.
But ah, who can deceiue his destiny,
Or weene by warning to auoyd his fate?
That when he sleepes in most security,
And safest seemes, him soonest doth amate,
And findeth dew effect or soone or late.
So feeble is the powre of fleshy arme.
His mother bad him wemens loue to hate,
For she of womans force did feare no harme;
So weening to haue arm'd him, she did quite disarme.
This was that woman, this [...] deadly wownd,
That Proteus prophecide should him dismay,
The wich his mother vainely did expownd,
To be hart-wown ding loue, which should assay
To bring her sonne vnto his last decay.
So ticle be the tetmes of mortall state,
And full of subtile so phismes, which doe play
With double sences, and with false debate,
T approue the vnknowen purpose of eternall fate.
Too trew the famous Marinell it fownd,
Who through late triall, on that wealthy Strond
Inglorious now lies in sencelesse swownd,
Through heauy stroke of Britomartis hond.
Which when his mother deare did vnderstond,
And heauy tidings heard, whereas she playd
Amongst her watry sisters by a pond,
Gathering sweete daffadillyes, to haue made
Gay girlonds, from the Sun their forheads fayr to shade.
Eftesoones both flowres and girlonds far away
Shee flong, and her faire deawy locks yrent,
To sorrow huge she turnd her former play,
And gameson merth to grieuous dreriment:
Shee threw her selfe downe on the Continent,
Ne word did speake, but lay as in aswownd,
Whiles al her sisters did for her lament,
With yelling outcries, and with [...] sowne;
And euery one did teare her gitlond from her crowne.
Soone as shee vp out of her deadly fitt
Arose, shee bad her charett to be brought,
And all her sisters, that with her did sitt,
Bad eke attonce their charetts to be sought;
[Page 453]Tho full of bitter griefe and pensife thought,
She to her wagon clombe; clombe all the rest,
And forth together went, with sorow fraught.
The waues obedient to theyr beheast,
Them yielded ready passage, and their rage surceast.
Great Neptune stoode amazed at their sight,
Whiles on his broad rownd backe they softly slid
And eke him selfe mournd at their mournfull plight,
Yet wist not what their wailing ment, yet did
For great compassion of their sorow, bid
His mighty waters to them buxome bee:
Estesoones the roaring billowes still abid,
And all the griesly Monstes of the See
Stood gaping at their gate, and wondred them to see.
A teme of Dolphins raunged in aray,
Drew the smooth charett of sad Cymoent;
They were all taught by Triton, to obay
To the long raynes, at her commaundement:
As swifte as swallowes, on the waues they went,
That their brode flaggy finnes no fome did reare,
Ne bubling rowndell they behinde them sent;
The rest of other fishes drawen weare,
Which with [...] finny oars the swelling sea did sheare.
Soone as they bene arriu'd vpon the brim
Of the Rich strond, their charets they forlore,
And let their temed fishes softly swim
Along the margent of the fomy shore,
Least they their finnes should bruze, and surbate sore
Their tender feete vpon the stony grownd:
And comming to the place, where all in gore
And cruddy blood enwallowed they fownd
The lucklesse Marinell, lying in deadly swownd;
His mother swowned thrise, and the third time
Could scarce recouered bee out of her paine;
Had she not beene [...] of mortall slime,
Shee should not then haue bene relyu'd againe;
But soone as life recouered had the raine,
Shee made so piteous mone and deare wayment,
That the hard rocks could scarse from tears refraine,
And all her sister Nymphes with one consent
Supplide her sobbing breaches with sad complement.
Deare image of my selfe, (she sayd) that is,
The wretched [...] of wretched mother borne,
Is this thine high aduauncement, O is this
Th'immortall name, with which thee yet vnborne
Thy Gransire Nereus promist to adorne?
Now lyest thou of life and honor refte;
Now lyest thou a lumpe of earth forlorne,
Ne of thy late life memory is lefte,
Ne can thy irreuocable desteny bee wefte?
Fond Proteus, father of false prophecis,
And they more fond, that credit to thee giue,
Not this the worke of womans hand ywis,
That so deepe wound through these deare members driue.
I feared loue: but they that loue doe liue,
But they that dye, doe nether loue nor hate.
Nath'lesse to thee thy folly I forgiue,
And to myselfe, and to accursed fate
The guilt I doe ascribe: deare wisedom bought too late.
O what auailes it of immortall seed
To beene ybredd and neuer borne to dye?
Farre better I it deeme to die with speed,
Then waste in woe and waylfull miserye.
[Page 455]Who dyes the vtmost dolor doth abye,
But who that liues, is lefte to waile his losse:
So life is losse, and death felicity.
Sad life worse then glad death: and greater crosse
To see frends graue, thē dead the graue self to engrosse.
But if the heauens did his dayes enuie,
And my short blis maligne, yet mote they well
Thus much afford me, ere that he did die
That the dim eies of my deare Marinell
I mote haue closed, and him bed farewell,
Sith other offices for mother meet
They would not graunt.
Yett maulgre them farewell, my sweetest sweet;
Farewell my sweetest sonne, till we againe may meet.
Thus when they all had sorowed their fill,
They softly gan to search his griesly wownd:
And that they might him handle more at will,
They him disarmd, and spredding on the grownd
Their watcher mantles frindgd with siluer rownd,
They softly wipt away the gelly blood
From th'orifice; which hauing well vpbownd,
They pourd in soueraine balme, and Nectar good,
Good both for erthly med'cine, and for heuenly food.
Tho when the lilly handed Liagore,
(This Liagore whilome had learned skill
In leaches craft, by great Appolloes lore,
Sith her whilome vpon high Pindus hill,
He loued, and at last her wombe did fill
With heuenly seed, whereof wise Paeon sprong)
Did feele his pulse, shee knew their staied still
Some litle life his feeble sprites emong;
Which to his mother told, despeyre she frō her flong.
Tho vp him taking in their tender hands,
They easely vnto her charett beare:
Her teme at her commaundement quiet stands,
Whiles they the corse into her wagon reare,
And strowe with flowres the lamentable beare:
Then all the rest into their coches clim,
And through the brackish waues their passage shear;
Vpon great Neptunes necke they softly swim,
And to her watry chamber swiftly carry him.
Deepe in the bottome of the sea, her bowre
Is built of hollow billowes heaped hye,
Like to thicke clouds, that threat a stormy showre,
And vauted all within, like to the Skye,
In which the Gods doe dwell eternally:
There they him laide in easy couch well dight;
And sent in haste for Tryphon, to apply
Salues to his wounds, and medicines of might:
For Tryphon of sea gods the soueraine leach is hight.
The whiles the Nymphes sitt all about him rownd,
Lamenting his mishap and heauy plight;
And ofte his mother vewing his wide wownd,
Cursed the hand, that did so deadly smight
Her dearest sonne, her dearest harts delight.
But none of all those curses ouertooke
The warlike Maide, th'ensample of that might,
But fairely well shee thryud, and well did brooke
Her noble deeds, ne her right course for ought forsooke.
Yet did false Archimage her still pursew,
To bring to passe his mischieuous intent,
Now that he had her singled from the crew
Of courteous knights, the Prince, and Fary gent,
[Page 457]Whom late in chace of beauty excellent
Shee lefte, pursewing that same foster strong;
Of whose fowle outrage they impatient,
And full of firy zele, him followed long,
To reskew her from shame, and to reuenge her wrong.
Through thick and thin, through mountains & through playns,
Those two gret chāpions did attonce pursew
The fearefull damzell, with incessant payns:
Who from them fled, as light-foot hare from vew
Of hunter swifte, and sent of howndes trew.
At last they came vnto a double way,
Where, doubtfull which to take, her to reskew,
Themselues they did dispart, each to assay,
Whether more happy were, to win so goodly pray.
But Timias, the Princes gentle Squyre,
That Ladies loue vnto his Lord forlent,
And with proud enuy, and indignant yre,
After that wicked foster fiercely went.
So beene they three three sondry wayes ybent.
But fayrest fortune to the Prince befell,
Whose chaunce it was, that soone he did repent,
To take that way, in which that Damozell
Was fledd afore, affraid of him, as feend of hell.
At last of her far of he gained vew:
Then gan he freshly pricke his fomy [...],
And euer as he nigher to her drew,
So euermore he did increase his speed,
And of each turning still kept wary heed:
Alowd to her he oftentimes did call,
To doe away vaine doubt, and needlesse dreed:
Full myld to her he spake, and oft let fall
Many meeke wordes, to stay and comfort her withall.
But nothing might relent her hasty flight;
So deepe the deadly feare of that foule swaine
Was earst impressed in her gentle spright:
Like as a fearefull Doue, which through the raine,
Of the wide ayre her way does cut amaine,
Hauing farre off espyde a Tassell gent,
Which after her his nimble winges doth straine,
Doubleth her hast for feare to bee for-hent,
And with her pineons cleaues the liquid firmament.
With no lesse hast, and eke with no lesse dreed,
That fearefull Ladie fledd from him, that ment
To her no euill thought, nor euill deed;
Yet former feare of being fowly shent,
Carried her forward with her first intent:
And though oft looking backward, well she vewde,
Her selfe freed from that foster insolent,
And that it was a knight, which now her sewde,
Yet she no lesse the knight feard, then that villein rude.
His vncouth shield and straunge armes her dismayd,
Whose like in Faery lond were seldom seene,
That fast she from him fledd, no lesse afrayd,
Then of wilde beastes if she had chased beene:
Yet he her followd still with corage keene,
So long that now the golden Hesperus
Was mounted high in top of heauen sheene,
And warnd his other brethren ioyeous,
To light their blessed lamps in [...] eternall hous.
All suddeinly dim wox the dampish ayre,
And griesly shadowes couered heauen bright,
That now with thousand starres was decked fayre;
Which when the Prince beheld, a lothfull sight,
[Page 459]And that perforce, for want of lenger light,
He motesurceasse his suit, and lose the hope
Of his long labour, he gan fowly wyte
His wicked fortune, that had turnd aslope,
And cursed night, that reft from him so goodly scope.
Tho when her wayes he could no more descry,
But to and fro at disauenture strayd;
Like as a ship, whose Lodestar suddeinly
Couered with cloudes, her Pilott hath dismayd,
His wearisome pursuit perforce he stayd,
And from his loftie steed dismounting low,
Did let him forage. Downe himselfe he layd
Vpon the grassy ground, to sleepe a throw;
The cold earth was his couch, the hard steele his pillow.
But gentle Sleepe enuyde him any rest;
In stead thereof sad sorow, and disdaine
Of his hard hap did vexe his noble brest,
And thousand fancies bett his ydle brayne
With their light wings, the sights of semblants vaine:
Oft did he wish, that Lady faire mote bee
His faery Queene, for whom he did complaine:
Or that his Faery Queene were such, as shee:
And euer hasty Night he blamed bitterlie.
Night thou foule Mother of annoyaunce sad,
Sister of heauie death, and nourse of woe,
Which wast be got in heauen, but for thy bad
And brutish shape thrust downe to hell below,
Where by the grim floud of Cocytus slow
Thy dwelling is, in Herebus black hous,
(Black Herebus thy husband is the foe
Of all the Gods) where thou vngratious,
Halfe of thy dayes doest lead in horrour hideous.
What had th'eternall Maker need of thee,
The world in his continuall course to keepe,
That doest all thinges deface, ne lettest see
The beautie of his worke? Indeed in sleepe
The slouthfull body, that doth loue to steep
His lustlefse limbes, and drowne his baser mind,
Doth praise thee oft, and oft from Stygian deepe
Calles thee, his goddesse in his errour blind,
And great Dame Natures handmaide, chearing euery kind.
But well I wote, that to an heauy hart
Thou art the roote and nourse of bitter cares,
Breeder of new, renewer of old smarts:
In stead of rest thou lendest rayling teares,
In stead of sleepe thou sendest troublous feares,
And dreadfull visions, in the which aliue
The dreary image of sad death appeares:
So from the wearie spirit thou doest driue
Desired rest, and men of happinesse depriue.
Vnder thy mantle black there hidden lye,
Light-shonning thefte, and traiterous intent,
Abhorred bloodshed, and vile felony,
Shamefull deceipt, and daunger imminent;
Fowle horror, and eke hellish dreriment:
All these I wote in thy protection bee,
And light doe shonne, for feare of being shent:
For lighty like is loth'd of them and thee,
And all that lewdnesse loue, doe hate the light to see.
For day discouers all dishonest wayes,
And sheweth each thing, as it is in deed:
The prayses of high God he faire displayes,
And his large bountie rightly doth areed.
[Page 461]The children of day be the blessed seed,
Which darknesse shall subdue, and heauen win:
Truth is his daughter; he her first did breed,
Most sacred virgin, without spot of sinne.
Our life is day, but death with darknesse doth begin.
O when will day then turne to me againe,
And bring with him his long expected light?
O Titan, hast to reare thy ioyous waine:
Speed thee to spred abroad thy beames bright?
And chace away this too long lingring night,
Chace her away, from whence she came, to hell.
She, she it is, that hath me done despight:
There let her with the damned spirits dwell,
And yield her ro wme to day, that can it gouerne well.
Thus did the Prince that wearie night outweare,
In restlesse anguish and vnquiet paine:
And earely, ere the morrow did vpreare
His deawy head out of the Ocean maine,
He vp arose, as halfe in great disdaine,
And clombe vnto his steed. So forth he went,
With heauy looke and lumpish pace, that plaine
In him bewraid great grudge and maltalent:
His steed eke seemd t'apply his steps to his intent.
Cant. V.
Prince Arthur heares of Florimell:
three fosters Timias wound,
Belphebe findes him almost dead,
and reareth out of sownd.
WOnder it is to see, in diuerse mindes,
How diuersly loue doth his pageaunts play,
And shewes his powre in variable kindes:
The baser wit, whose ydle thoughts alway
Are wont to cleaue vnto the lowly clay,
It stirreth vp to sensuall desire,
And in lewd slouth to wast his carelesse day:
But in braue sprite it kindles goodly fire,
That to all high desert and honour doth aspire.
Ne suffereth it vncomely idlenesse,
In his free thought to build her sluggish nest:
Ne suffereth it thought of vngentlenesse,
Euer to creepe into his noble brest,
But to the highest and the worthiest
Lifteth it vp, that els would lowly fall:
It lettes not fall, it lettes it not to rest:
It lettes not scarse this Prince to breath at all,
But to his first poursuit him forward still doth call.
Who long time wandred through the forest wyde,
To finde some issue thence, till that at last
He met a Dwarfe, that seemed terrifyde
With some late perill, which he hardly past,
[Page 463]Or other accident, which him aghast;
Of whom he asked, whence he lately came,
And whether now he traueiled so fast:
For sore he swat, and ronning through that same
Thicke forest, was bescracht, & both his feet nigh lame.
Panting for breath, and almost out of hart,
The Dwarfe him answerd, Sir, ill [...] I stay
To tell the same. I lately did depart
From Faery court, where I haue many a day
Serued a gentle Lady of greatsway,
And high accompt through out all Elfin land,
Who lately left the same, and tooke this way:
Her now I seeke, and if ye vnderstand
Which way she fared hath, good Sir tell out of hand.
What mister wight, (saide he) and how arayd?
Royally clad (quoth he) in cloth of gold,
As meetest may beseeme a noble mayd;
Her faire lockes in rich circlet be enrold,
A fayrer wight did neuer Sunne behold,
And on a Palfrey rydes more white then snow,
Yet she her selfe is whiter manifold:
The surest signe, whereby ye may her know,
Is, that she is the fairest wight aliue, I trow.
Now certes swaine (saide he) such one I weene,
Fast flying through this forest from her fo,
A foule ill fauoured foster, I haue seene;
Her selfe, well as I might, I reskewd tho,
But could not stay; so fast she did foregoe,
Carried away with wings of speedy feare.
Ah dearest God (quoth he) that is great woe,
And wondrous ruth to all, that shall it heare.
But can ye read Sir, how I may her finde, or where.
Perdy me leuer were to weeten that,
(Saide he) then ransome of the richest knight,
Or all the good that euer yet I gat:
But froward fortune, and too forward Night
Such happinesse did, maulgre, to me spight,
And fro me reft both life and light attone.
But Dwarfe aread, what is that Lady bright,
That through this forrest wandreth thus alone;
For of her errour straunge I haue great ruth and mone.
That Ladie is (quoth he) where so she bee,
The bountiest virgin, and most debonaire,
That euer liuing eye I weene did see;
Liues none this day, that may with her compare
In stedfast chastitie and vertue rare,
The goodly ornaments of beautie bright;
And is ycleped Florimell the fayre,
Faire Florimell belou'd of many a knight,
Yet she loues none but one, that Marinell is hight.
A Sea-nymphes sonne, that Marinell is hight,
Of my deare Dame is loued dearely well;
In other none, but him, she sets delight,
All her delight is set on Marinell;
But he sets nought at all by Florimell:
For Ladies loue his mother long ygoe
Did him, they say, forwarne through sacred spell.
But fame now flies, that of a forreine foe
He is yslaine, which is the ground of all our woe.
Fiue daies there be, since he (they say) was slaine,
And fowre, since Florimell the Court forwent,
And vowed neuer to returne againe,
Till him aliue or dead she did inuent.
[Page 465]Therefore, faire Sir, for loue of knighthood gent,
And honour of trew Ladies, if ye may
By your good counsell, or bold hardiment,
Or succour her, or me direct the way,
Do one, or other good, I you most humbly pray.
So may ye gaine to you full great renowme,
Of all good Ladies through the world so wide,
And haply in her hart finde highest rowme,
Of whom ye seeke to be most magnifide:
At least eternall meede shall you abide.
To whom the Prince; Dwarfe, comfort to thee take,
For till thou tidings learne, what her betide,
I here auow thee neuer to forsake.
Ill weares he armes, that nill them vse for Ladies sake.
So with the Dwarfe he backe retourn'd againe,
To seeke his Lady, where he mote her finde;
But by the way he greatly gan complaine
The want of his good Squire late left behinde,
For whom he wondrous pensiue grew in minde,
For doubt of daunger, which mote him betide;
For him he loued aboue all mankinde,
Hauing him trew and faithfull euer tride,
And bold, as euer Squyre that waited by knights side.
Who all this while full hardly was assayd
Of deadly daunger, which to him betidd;
For whiles his Lord pursewd that noble Mayd,
After that foster fowle he fiercely ridd,
To bene auenged of the shame, he did
To that faire Damzell: Him he chaced long
Through the thicke woods, wherein he would haue hid
His shamefull head from his auengement strong,
And oft him threatned death for his outrageous wrong.
Nathlesse the villein sped himselfe so well,
Whether through swiftnesse of his speedie beast;
Or knowledge of those woods, where he did dwell,
That shortly he from daunger was releast,
And out of fight escaped at the least;
Yet not escaped from the dew reward
Of his bad deedes, which daily he increast,
Ne ceased not, till him oppressed hard
The heauie plague, that for such leachours is prepard.
For soone as he was vanisht out of sight,
His coward courage gan emboldned bee,
And cast t'auenge him of that fowle despight,
Which he had borne of his bold enimee.
Tho to his brethren came: for they were three
Vngratious children of one gracelesse syre,
And vnto them complayned, how that he
Had vsed beene of that foolehardie Squyre;
So them with bitter words he stird to bloodie yre.
Forthwith themselues with their sad instruments
Of spoyle and murder they gan arme byliue,
And with him foorth into the forrest went,
To wreake the wrath, which he did earst reuiue
In their sterne brests, on him which late did driue
Their brother to reproch and shamefull flight:
For they had vow'd, that neuer he aliue
Out of that forest should escape their might;
Vile rancour their rude harts had fild with such despight
Within that wood there was a couert glade,
Foreby a narrow foord, to them well knowne,
Through which it was vneath for wight to made,
And now by fortune it was ouerflowne:
[Page 467]By that same way they knew that Squyre vnknowne
Mote algates passe; for thy themselues they set
There in await, with thicke woods ouer growne,
And all the while their malice they did whet
With cruell threats, his passage through the ford to let.
It fortuned, as they deuized had,
The gentle Squyre came ryding that same way,
Vnweeting of their wile and treason bad,
And through the ford to passen did assay;
But that fierce foster, which late fled away,
Stoutly foorth stepping on the further shore,
Him boldly bad his passage there to stay,
Till he had made amends, and full restore
For all the damage, which he had him doen afore.
With that at him a quiu'ring dart he threw,
With so fell force and villeinous despite,
That through his haberieon the forkehead flew,
And through the linked mayles empierced quite,
But had now powre in his soft flesh to bite:
That stroke the hardy Squire did sore displease,
But more that him he could not come to smite;
For by no meanes the high banke he could sease,
But labour'd long in that deepe ford with vaine disease.
And still the foster with his long bore-speare
Him kept from landing at his wished will,
Anone one sent out of the thicket neare
A cruell shaft, headed with deadly ill,
And fethered with an vnlucky quill;
The wicked steele stayd not, till it did light
In his left thigh, and deepely did it thrill:
Exceeding griefe that wound in him empight,
But more that with his foes he could not come to fight.
At last through wrath and vengeaunce making way,
He on the bancke arryud with mickle payne,
Where the third brother him did sore assay,
And drove at him with all his might and mayne
A forest bill, which both his hands did strayne,
But warily he did auoide the blow,
And with his speare requited him agayne,
That both his sides were thrilled with the throw,
And a large streame of flood out of the wound did flow.
He tombling downe, with gnashing teeth did bite
The bitter earth, and bad to lett him in
Into the balefull house of endlesse night,
Where wicked ghosts doe waile their former sin.
Tho gan the battaile freshly to begin;
For nathemore for that spectacle bad,
Did th'other two their cruell vengeaunce blin,
But both attonce on both sides him bestad,
And load vpon him layd, his life for to haue had.
Tho when that villayn he auiz'd, which late
Affrighted had the fairest Florimell,
Full of fiers fury, and indignant hate,
To him he turned, and with rigor fell
Smote him so rudely on the Pannikell,
That to the chin he clefte his head in twaine:
Downe on the ground his carkas groueling fell;
His sinfull sowle with desperate disdaine,
Out of her fleshly ferme fled to the place of paine.
That seeing now the only last of three,
Who with that wicked shafte him wounded had,
Trembling with horror, as that did foresee
The fearefull end of his auengement sad,
[Page 469]Through which he follow should his brethren bad,
His bootelesse bow in feeble hand vpcaught,
And therewith shott an arrow at the lad;
Which fayntly fluttring, scarce his helmet raught,
And glauncing fel to ground, but him annoyed naught.
With that he would haue fled into the wood;
But Timias him lightly ouerhent,
Right as he entring was into the flood,
And strooke at him with force so violent,
That headlesse him into the foord he sent:
The carcas with the streame was carried downe,
Butch'head fell backeward on the Continent.
So mischief fel vpon the meaners crowne;
They three be dead with shame, the Squire liues with renowne.
He liues, but takes small ioy of his renowne;
For of that cruell wound he bled so sore,
That from his steed he fell in deadly swowne;
Yet still the blood forth gusht in so great store,
That he lay wallowd all in his owne gore.
Now God thee keepe, thou gentlest squire aliue,
Els shall thy louing Lord thee see no more,
But both of comfort him thou shalt depriue,
And eke thy selfe of honor, which thou didst atchiue.
Prouidence heuenly passeth liuing thought,
And doth for wretched mens reliefe make way;
For [...] great grace or fortune thether brought
Comfort to him, that comfortlesse now lay.
In those same woods, ye well remember may,
How that a noble hunteresse did wonne,
Shee, that base Braggadochio did affray,
And made him fast out of the forest ronne;
Belphoebe was her name, as faire as Phaebus sunne.
She on a day, as shee pursewd the chace
Of some wilde beast, which with her arrowes keene
She wounded had, the same along did trace
By tract of blood, which she had freshly seene,
To haue besprinckled all the grassy greene,
By the great persue, which she there perceau'd,
Well hoped shee [...] beast engor'd had beene,
And made more haste, the life to haue bereav'd:
But ah, het expectation greatly was deceau'd.
Shortly she came, whereas that woefull Squire
With blood deforwed; lay in deadly swownd:
In whose faire eyes, like lamps of quenched fire,
The Christall humor stood congealed rownd;
His locks, like faded leaues fallen to grownd,
Knotted with blood, in bounches rudely ran,
And his sweete lips, on which before that stownd
The bud of youth to blossome faire began,
Spoild of their rosy red, were woxen pale and wan.
Saw neuer liuing eie more heauy sight,
That could haue made a rocke of stone to rew,
Or riue in twaine: which when that Lady bright
Besides all hope with melting eies did vew,
All suddeinly abasht shee chaunged hew,
And with sterne horror backward gan to start:
But when shee bitter him beheld shee grew
Full of sofe passion and vnwonted smart:
The point of pitty perced through her tender hart.
Meekely shee bowed downe, to weete if life
Yett in his frosen members did remaine,
And feeling by his pulses beating rife,
That the weake sowle her seat did yett retaine,
[Page 471]She cast to comfort him with busy paine:
His double folded necke she reard vpright,
And rubd his temples, and each trembling vaine;
His mayled haberieon she did vndight,
And from his head his heauy burganet did light.
Into the woods thence forth in haste shee went,
To seeke for hearbes, that mote him remedy;
For shee of herbes had great in tendiment,
Taught of the Nymphe, which from her infancy
Her nourced had in trew Nobility:
There, whether yt diuine Tobacco were,
Or Panachaea, or Polygony,
Shee fownd, and brought it to her patient deare
Who al this while lay bleding out his hart-blood neare.
The soueraine weede betwixt two marbles plaine
Shee pownded small, and did in peeees bruze,
And then atweene her lilly handes twaine,
Into his wound the iuice thereof did scruze,
And round about, as she could well it vze,
The flesh therewith shee suppled and did steepe,
T'abate all spasme, and soke the swelling bruze,
And after hauing searcht the intuse deepe,
She with her scarf did bind the woūd frō cold to keepe.
By this he had sweet life recur'd agayne,
And groning inly deepe, at last his eies,
His watry eies, drizling like [...] rayne,
He vp gan lifte toward the azure skies,
From whence descend all hopelesse remedies;
Therewith he sigh'd, and turning him aside,
The goodly Maide ful of diuinities,
And gifts of heauenly grace he by him spide,
Her bow and gilden quiuer lying him beside.
Mercy deare Lord (said he) what grace is this,
That thou hast shewed to me sinfull wight,
To send thine Angell from her bowre of blis,
To comfort me in my distressed plight?
Angell, or Goddesse doe I call thee right?
What seruice may I doe vnto thee meete,
That hast from darkenes me returnd to light,
And with thy heuenly salues and med'cines sweete,
Hast drest my sinfull wounds? I kisse thy blessed feete.
Thereat she blushing said, Ah gentle Squire,
Nor Goddesse I, nor Angell, but the Mayd,
And daughter of a woody Nymphe, desire
No seruice, but thy safety and ayd,
Which if thou gaine, I shalbe well apayd.
Wee mortall wights, whose liues and fortunes [...]
To commun accidents stil open layd,
Are bownd with commun bond of frailtee,
To succor wretched wights, whom we captiued see.
By this her Damzells, which the former chace
Had vndertaken after her, arryu'd,
As did Belphoebe, in the bloody place,
And thereby deemd the beast had bene depriu'd
Of life, whom late their ladies arrow ryu'd:
For thy the bloody tract they followd fast,
And euery one to ronne the swiftest stryu'd;
But two of them the rest far ouerpast,
And where their Lady was, arriued at the last.
Where when they saw that goodly boy, wlth blood
Defowled, and their Lady dresse his wownd,
They wondred much, and shortly vnderstood,
How him in deadly case theyr Lady fownd,
[Page 473]And reskewed out of the heauy stownd.
Estsoones his warlike courser, which was strayd
Farre in the woodes, whiles that he lay in swownd,
She made those Damzels search, which being stayd,
They did him set theron, and forth with them conuayd.
Into that forest farre they thence him led,
Where was their dwelling, in a pleasant glade,
With mountaines rownd about enuironed,
And mightie woodes, which did the valley shade,
And like a stately Theatre it made,
Spreading it selfe into a spatious plaine.
And in the midst a little riuer plaide
Emongst the pumy stones, which seemd to plaine
With gētle mnrmure, that their cours they did [...]
Beside the same a dainty place there lay,
Planted with mirtle trees and laurells greene,
In which the birds song many a louely lay
Of gods high praise, and of their sweet loues teene,
As it an earthly Paradize had beene:
In whose enclosed shadow there was pight
A faire Pauilion, scarcely to be seene,
The which was al within most richly dight,
That greatest Princes liking it mote well delight.
Thether they brought that wounded Squyre, and [...]
In easie couch his feeble limbes to rest,
He rested him a while, and then the Mayd
His readie wound with better [...] new drest,
Daily she dressed him, and did the best
His grieuous hurt to guarish, that she might,
That shortly she his dolour hath redrest.
And his foule sore reduced to faire plight:
It she reduced, but himselfe destroyed quight.
O foolish physick, and vnfruitfull paine,
That heales vp one and makes another wound:
She his hurt thigh to him recurd againe,
But hurt his hart, the which before was sound,
Through an vnwary dart, which did rebownd
From her faire eyes and gratious countenaunce.
What bootes it him from death to be vnbownd,
To be captiued in endlesse duraunce
Of sorrow and despeyre without aleggeaunce?
Still as his wound did gather, and grow hole,
So still his hart woxe sore, and health decayd:
Madnesse to saue a part, and lose the whole.
Still whenas he beheld the heauenly Mayd,
Whiles dayly playsters to his wownd she layd,
So still his Malady the more increast,
The whiles her matchlesse beautie him dismayd.
Ah God, what other could he doe at least,
But loue so fayre a Lady, that his life releast?
Long while he stroue in his corageous brest,
With reason dew the passion to subdew,
And loue for to dislodge out of his nest:
Still when her excellencies he did vew,
Her soueraine bountie, and celestiall hew,
The same to loue he strongly was constraynd:
But when his meane estate he did renew,
He from such hardy boldnesse was restraynd,
And of his lucklesse lott and cruell loue thus playnd.
Vnthankfull wretch (said he) is this the meed,
With which her souerain mercy thou do est quight?
Thy life she saued by her gratious deed,
But thou do est weene with villeinous despight,
[Page 475]To blott her honour, and her heauenly light.
Dye rather, dye, then so disloyally
Deeme of her high desert, or seeme so light:
Fayre death it is to shonne more shame, to dy:
Dye rather, dy, then euer loue disloyally.
But if to loue disloyalty it bee,
Shall I then hate her, that from deathes dore
Me brought? ah farre be such reproch fro mee.
What can I lesse doe, then her loue therefore,
Sith I her dew reward cannot restore:
Dye rather, dye, and dying doe her serue,
Dying her serue, and liuing her adore;
Thy life she gaue, thy life she doth deserue:
Dye rather, dye, then euer from her seruice swerue.
But foolish boy, what bootes thy seruice bace
To her, to whom the heuens doe serue and sew?
Thou a meane Squyre, of meeke and lowly place,
She heuenly borne, and of celestiall hew.
How then? of all loue taketh equall vew:
And doth not highest God vouchsafe to take
The loue and seruice of the basest crew?
If she will not, dye meekly for her sake;
Dye rather, dye, then euer so faire loue forsake.
Thus warreid he long time against his will,
Till that through weaknesse he was forst at last,
To yield himselfe vnto the mightie ill:
Which as a victour proud, gan ransack fast
His inward partes, and all his entrayles wast,
That neither blood in face, nor life in hart
It left, but both did quite drye vp, and blast;
As percing leuin, which the inner part
Of euery thing consumes, and calcineth by art.
Which seeing fayre [...], gan to feare,
Least that his wound were inly well not heald,
Or that the wicked steele empoysned were:
Litle shee weend, that loue he close conceald;
Yet still he wasted, as the snow congeald,
When the bright sunne his beams theron doth beat;
Yet neuer he his hart to her reueald,
But rather chose to dye for sorow great,
Then with dishonorable termes her to entreat.
She gracious Lady, yet no paines did spare,
To doe him ease, or doe him remedy:
Many Restoratiues of vertues rare,
And costly Cordialles she did apply,
To mitigate his stubborne malady:
But that sweet Cordiall, which can restore
A loue-sick hart, she did to him enuy;
To him, and to all th'vnworthy world forlore
She did enuy that soueraine salue, in secret store.
That [...] Rose, the daughter of her Morne,
More deare then life she tendered, whose flowre
The girlond of her honour did adorne:
Ne suffred she the Middayes scorching powre,
Ne the sharp Northerne wind thereon to showre,
But lapped vp her silken leaues most chayre,
When so the froward skye began to lowre;
But soone as calmed was the christall ayre,
She did it fayre dispred, and let to florish fayre.
Eternall God in his almightie powre,
To make ensample of his heauenly grace,
In Paradize whylome did plant this flowre;
Whence he it [...] out of her natiue place,
[Page 477]And did in stocke of earthly flesh enrace,
That mortall men her glory should admyre
In gentle Ladies breste, and bounteous race
Of woman kind it fayrest flowre doth spyre,
And beareth fruit of honour and all chast desyre.
Fayre ympes of beautie, whose bright shining beames
Adorne the world with like to heauenly light,
And to your willes both royalties and Reames
Subdew, through cōquest of your wondrous might,
With this fayre flowre your goodly girlonds dight,
Of chastity and vertue virginall,
That shall embellish more your beautie bright,
And crowne your heades with heauenly coronall,
Such as the Angels were before Gods tribunall.
To youre faire selues a faire ensample frame,
Of this faire virgin, this Belphebe fayre,
To whom in perfect loue, and spotlesse fame
Of chastitie, none liuing may compayre:
Ne poysnous Enuy iustly can empayre
The prayse of her fresh flowring May denhead;
For thy she standeth on the highest stayre
Of th'honorable stage of womanhead,
That Ladies all may follow her ensample dead.
In so great prayse of stedfast chastity,
Nathlesse she was so courteous and kynde,
Tempred with grace, and goodly modesty,
That seemed those two vertues stroue to fynd
The higher place in her Heroick mynd:
So striuing each did other more augment,
And both encreast the prayse of woman kynde,
And both encreast her beautie excellent;
So all did make in her a perfect complement;
Cant. VI.
The birth of fayre Belphoebe and
Of Amorett is told.
The Gardins of Adonis fraught
With pleasures manifold.
WEll may I weene, faire Ladies, all this while
Ye wonder, how this noble Damozell
So great perfections did in her compile,
Sith that in saluage forests she did dwell,
So farre from court and royall Citadell,
The great schoolmaistresse of all courtesy:
Seemeth that such wilde woodes should far expell
All ciuile vsage and gentility,
And gentle sprite deforme with rude rusticity.
But to this faire Belphoebe in her berth
The heuens so fauorable were and free,
Looking with myld aspect vpon the earth,
In th'Horoscope of her natiuitee,
That all the gifts of grace and chastitee
On her they poured forth of plenteous horne;
Ioue laught on Venus from his souerayne see,
And Phoebus with faire beames did her adorne,
And all the Graces rockt her cradle being borne.
Her berth was of the wombe of Morning dew,
And her conception of the ioyous Prime,
And all her whole creation did her shew
Pure and [...] from all loathly crime,
[Page 479]That is ingenerate in fleshly slime.
So was this virgin borne, so was she bred,
So was she trayned vp from time to time,
In all chaste vertue, and true bounti-hed
Till to her dew perfection she were ripened.
Her mother was the faire Chrysogonee,
The daughter of Amphisa, who by race
A Faerie was, yborne of high degree,
She bore Belphaebe, she bore in like cace
Fayre Amoretta in the second place:
These two were twinnes, & twixt them two did share
The heritage of all celestiall grace.
That all the rest it seemd they robbed bare
Of bounty, and of beautie, and all vertues rare.
It were a goodly storie, to declare,
By what straunge accident faire Chrysogone
Conceiu'd these infants, and how them she bore,
In this wilde forrest wandring all alone,
After she had nine moneths fulfild and gone:
For not as other wemens commune brood,
They were enwombed in the sacred throne
Of her chaste bodie, nor with commune food,
As other wemens babes, they sucked vitall blood.
But wondrously they were begot, and bred
Through influence of th'heuens fruitfull ray,
As it in antique bookes is mentioned.
It was vpon a Sommers [...] day,
When Titan faire his beames did display,
In a fresh fountaine, [...] from all mens vew,
She bath'd her brest, the boyling heat t'allay;
She bath'd with roses red, and violets blew,
And all the sweetest flowres, that in the forrest grew.
Till faint through yrkesome wearines, adowne
Vpon the grassy ground her selfe she layd
To sleepe, the whiles a gentle slombring swowne
Vpon her fell all naked bare displayd;
The sunbeames bright vpon her body playd,
Being through former bathing mollifide,
And pierst into her wombe, where they embayd
With so sweet sence and secret power vnspide,
That in her pregnant flesh they shortly fructifide.
Miraculous may seeme to him, that reades
So straunge ensample of conception,
But reason teacheth that the fruitfull seades
Of all things liuing, through impression
Of the sunbeames in moyst complexion,
Doe life conceiue and quickned are by kynd:
So after Nilus invndation,
Infinite shapes of creatures men doe fynd,
Informed in the mud, on which the Sunne hath shynd.
Great father he of generation
Is rightly cald, th'authour of life and light;
And his faire sister for creation
Ministreth matter fit, which tempred right
With heate and humour, breedes the liuing wight.
So sprong these twinnes in womb of Chrysogone,
Yet wist she nought thereof, but sore affright,
Wondred to see her belly so vpblone,
Which still increast, till she her terme had full outgone.
Whereof conceiuing shame and foule disgrace,
Albe her guiltlesse conscience her cleard,
She fled into the wildernesse a space,
Till that vnweeldy burden she had reard,
[Page 481]And shund dishonor, which as death she feard:
Where wearie of long traueill, downe to rest
Her selfe she set, and comfortably cheard;
There a sad cloud of sleepe her ouerkest,
And seized euery sence with sorrow sore opprest.
It fortuned, faire Venus hauing lost
Her little sonne, the winged god of loue,
Who for some light displeasure, which him crost,
Was from her fled, as flit as ayery Doue,
And left her blisfull bowre of ioy aboue,
(So from her often he had fled away,
When she for ought him sharpely did reproue,
And wandred in the world in straunge aray,
Disguiz'd in thousand shapes, that none might him bewray.)
Him for to seeke, she left her heauenly hous,
The house of goodly formes and faire aspects,
Whence all the world deriues the glorious
Features of beautie, and all shapes select,
With which high God his workmanship hath deckt;
And searched euerie way, through which his wings
Had borne him, or his tract she mote detect:
She promist kisses sweet, and sweeter things,
Vnto the man, that of him tydings to her brings.
First she him sought in Court, where most he vs'd
Whylome to haunt, but there she found him not;
But many there she found, which sore accus'd
His falshood, and with fowle infamous blot
His cruell deedes and wicked wyles did spot:
Ladies and Lordes she euery where mote heare
Complayning, how with his empoysned shot
Their wofull harts he wounded had whyleare,
And so had left them languishing twixt hope and feare.
She then the Cities sought from gate to gate,
And euerie one did aske did he him see;
And euerie one her answerd, that too late
He had him seene, and felt the crueltee
Of his sharpe dartes and whot artilleree;
And euery one threw forth reproches rife
Of his mischieuous deedes, and sayd, That hee
Was the disturber of all ciuill life,
The enimy of peace, and authour of all strife.
Then in the countrey she abroad him sought,
And in the rurall cottages inquir'd,
Where also many plaintes to her were brought,
How he their hee [...] harts with loue had fir'd,
And his false venim through their veines inspir'd;
And eke the gentle Shepheard swaynes, which sat
Keeping their fleecy flockes, as they were hyr'd,
She sweetly heard complaine, both how and what
Her sonne had to them doen; yet she did smile thereat.
But when in none of all these she him got,
She gan auize, where els he mote him hyde:
At last she her bethought, that she had not
Yet sought the saluage woods and forests wyde,
In which full many louely Nymphes abyde,
Mongst whom might be, that he did closely lye,
Or that the loue of some of them him tyde:
For thy she thether cast her course t'apply,
To search the secret haunts of Dianes company.
Shortly vnto the wastefull woods she came,
Whereas she found the Goddesse with her crew,
After late chace of their embrewed game,
Sitting beside a fountaine in a rew,
[Page 483]Some of them washing with the liquid dew
From of their dainty limbs the dusty sweat,
And soyle which did deforme their liuely hew,
Others lay shaded from the scorching heat;
The rest vpon her person gaue attendance great.
She hauing hong vpon a bough on high
Her bow and painted quiuer, had vnlaste
Her siluer buskins from her nimble thigh,
And her lanck loynes vngirt, and brests vnbraste,
After her heat the breathing cold to taste;
Her golden lockes, that late in tresses bright
Embreaded were for hindring of her haste,
Now loose about her shoulders hong vndight,
And were with sweet Ambrosia all besprinckled light.
Soone as she Venus saw behinde her backe,
She was asham'd to be so loose surpriz'd
And woxe halfe wroth against her damzels slacke,
That had not her there of before auiz'd,
But suffred her so carelesly disguiz'd
Be ouertaken. Soone her garments loose
Vpgath'ring, in her bosome she compriz'd,
Well as she might, and to the Goddesse rose,
Whiles all her Nymphes did like a girlond her enclose.
Goodly she gan faire Cytherea greet,
And shortly asked her, what cause her brought
Into that wildernesse for her vnmeet,
From her sweete bowres, and beds with pleasures fraught:
That suddein chaung she straung aduenture thought.
To whom halfe weeping, she thus answered,
That she her dearest sonne Cupido sought,
Who in his frowardnes from her was fled;
That she repented sore, to haue him angered.
Thereat Diana gan to smile, in scorne
Of her vaine playnt, and to her scoffing sayd;
Great pitty sure, that ye be so forlorne
Of your gay sonne, that giues ye so good ayd
To your disports: ill mote ye bene apayd,
But she was more engrieued, and replide;
Faire sister, ill beseemes itto vpbrayd
A dolefull heart with so disdainfull pride;
The like that mine, may be your paine another tide.
As you in woods and wanton wildernesse
Your glory sett, to chace the saluage beasts,
So my delight is all in ioyfulnesse,
In beds, in bowres, in banckets, and in feasts:
And ill becomes you with your lofty creasts,
To scorne the ioy, that Ioue is glad to seeke;
We both are bownd to follow heauens beheasts,
And tend our charges with obeisaunce meeke:
Spare, gentle sister, with reproch my paine to eeke.
And tell me, if that ye my sonne haue heard,
To lurke emongst your Nimphes in secret wize;
Or keepe their cabins: much I am affeard,
Least he like one of them him selfe disguize,
And turne his arrowes to their exercize:
So may he long him selfe full easie hide:
For he is faire and fresh in face and guize,
As any Nimphe (let not it be enuide.)
So saying euery Nimph full narrowly shee eide.
But Phoebe therewith sore was angered,
And sharply saide, Goe Dame, goe seeke your boy,
Where you him lately lefte, in Mars his bed;
He comes not here, we scorne his foolish ioy,
[Page 485]Ne lend we leisure to his idle toy:
But if I catch him in this company,
By Stygian lake I vow, whose sad annoy
The Gods doe dread, he dearly shall abye:
Ile clip his wanton wings, that he no more shall flye.
Whom whenas Venus saw so sore displeasd,
Shee inly sory was, and gan relent,
What shee had said: so her she soone appeasd,
With sugred words and gentle blandishment,
From which a fountaine from her sweete lips went,
And welled goodly forth, that in short space
She was well pleasd, and forth her damzells sent
Thtough all the woods, to search frō place to place.
If any tract of him or tidings they mote trace.
To search the God of loue her Nimphes she sent,
Throughout the wandring forest euery where:
And after them her selfe eke with her went
To seeke the fugitiue.
So long they sought, till they arriued were
In that same shady couert, whereas lay
Faire Crysogone in slombry traunce whilere:
Who in her sleepe (a wondrous thing to say)
Vnwares had borne two babes, as faire as springing day.
Vnwares she them conceiud, vnwares she bore:
She bore withouten paine, that she conceiu'd
Withouten pleasure: ne her need implore
Lucinaes aide: which when they both perceiu'd,
They were through wonder nigh of sence bereu'd,
And gazing each on other, nought bespake:
At last they both agreed, her seeming grieu'd
Out of her heauie swowne not to awake,
But from her louing side the tender babes to take.
Vp they them tooke, eachone a babe vptooke,
And with them carried, to be fostered;
Dame Phaebe to a Nymphe her babe betooke,
To be vpbrought in perfect Maydenhed,
And of herselfe her name Belphoebe red:
But Venus hers thence far away conuayd,
To be vpbrought in goodly womanhed,
And in her litle loues stead, which was strayd,
Her Amorettae cald, to comfort her dismayd.
Shee brought her to her ioyous Paradize,
Wher most she wonnes, whē she on earth does dwell.
So faire a place, as Nature can deuize:
Whether in Paphos, or Cytheron hill,
Or it in Gnidas bee, I wote not well;
But well I wote by triall, that this same
All other pleasaunt places doth excell,
And called is by her lost louers name,
The Gardin of Adonis, far renowmd by fame.
In that same Gardin all the goodly slowres,
Wherewith dame Nature doth her beautify,
And decks the girlonds of her Paramoures,
Are fetcht: there is the first seminary
Of all things, that are borne to liue and dye,
According to their kynds. Long worke it were,
Here to account the endlesse progeny
Of all the weeds, that bud and blossome there;
But so much as doth need, must needs be counted here.
It sited was in fruitfull soyle of old,
And girt in with two walls on either side;
The one of yron, the other of bright gold,
That none might thorough breake, nor ouer-stride:
[Page 489]And double gates it had, which opened wide,
By which both in and out men moten pas;
Th'one faire and fresh, the other old and dride:
Old Genius the porter of them was,
Old Genius, the which a double nature has.
He letteth in, he letteth out to wend,
All that to come into the world desire;
A thousand thousand naked babes attend
About him day and night, which doe require,
That he with fleshly weeds would them attire:
Such as him list, such as eternall fate
Ordained hath, he clothes with sinfull mire,
And sendeth forth to liue in mortall state,
Till they agayn returne backe by the hinder gate.
After that they againe retourned beene,
They in that Gardin planted bee agayne;
And grow afresh, as they had neuer seene
Fleshly corruption, nor mortall payne.
Some thousand yeares so doen they there remayne,
And then of him are clad with other hew,
Orsent into the chaungefull world agayne,
Till thether they retourne, where first they grew:
So like a wheele arownd they ronne from old to new.
Ne needs there Gardiner to sett, or sow,
To plant or prune: for of their owne accord
All things, as they created were, doe grow,
And yet remember well the mighty word,
Which first was spoken by th' Almighty lord,
That bad them to increase and multiply:
Ne doe they need with water of the ford,
Or of the clouds to moysten their roots dry;
For in themselues eternall moisture they imply.
Infinite shapes of creatures there are bred,
And vncouth formes, which none yet euer knew,
And euery sort is in a sondry bed
Sett by it selfe, and ranckt in comely rew:
Some fitt for reasonable sowlest'indew,
Some made for beasts, some made for birds to weare,
And all the fruitfull spawne of fishes hew
In endlesse rancks along enraunged were,
That seemd the Ocean could not containe them there.
Daily they grow, and daily forth are sent
Into the world, it to replenish more,
Yet is the stocke not lessened, nor spent,
But still remaines in euerlasting store,
As it at first created was of yore.
For in the wide wombe of the world therelyes,
In hatefull darknes and in deepe horrore,
An huge eternal Chaos, which supplyes
The substaunces of natures fruitfull progenyes.
All things from thence doe their first being fetch,
And borrow matter, where of they are made,
Which whenas forme and feature it does ketch,
Becomes a body, and doth then inuade
The state of life, out of the griesly shade.
That substaunce is eterne, and bideth so,
Ne when the life decayes, and forme does fade,
Doth it consume, and into nothing goe,
But chaunged is, and often altred to and froe.
The substaunce is not chaungd, nor altered,
But th' only forme and outward fashion;
For euery substaunce is conditioned
To chaunge her hew, and sondry formes to don
[Page 489]Meet for her temper and complexion:
For formes are variable and decay,
By course of kinde, and by occasion;
And that faire flowre of beautie fades away,
As doth the lilly fresh before the sunny ray.
Great enimy to it, and to all the rest,
That in the Gardin of Adonis springs,
Is wicked Tyme, who with his scyth addrest,
Does mow the flowring herbes and goodly things,
And all their glory to the ground downe flings,
Where they do wither, and are fowly mard:
He flyes about, and with his flaggy winges
Beates downe both leaues and buds without regard,
Ne euer pitty may relent his malice hard.
Yet pitty often did the gods relent,
To see so faire thinges mard, and spoiled quight:
And their great mother Venus did lament
The losse of her deare brood, her deare delight:
Her hart was pierst with pitty at the sight,
When walking through the Gardin, them she spyde,
Yet no'te she find redresse for such despight:
For all that liues, is subiect to that law:
All things decay in time, and to their end doe draw.
But were it not, that Time their troubler is,
All that in this delightfull Gardin growes,
Should happy bee, and haue immortall blis:
For here all plenty, and all pleasure flowes,
And sweete loue gentle fitts emongst them throwes,
Without fell rancor, or fond gealosy;
Franckly each Paramor his leman knowes,
Each bird his mate, ne any does enuy
Their goodly meriment, and gay felicity.
There is continuall Spring, and haruest there
Continuall, both meeting at one tyme:
For both the boughes doe laughing blossoms beare,
And with fresh colours decke the wanton Pryme,
And eke attonce the heauenly trees they clyme,
Which seeme to labour vnder their fruites lode:
The whiles the ioyous birdes make their pastyme
Emongst the shady leaues, their sweet abode,
And their trew loues without suspition tell abrode.
Right in the middest of that Paradise,
There stood a stately Mount, on whose round top
A gloomy groue of mirtle trees did rise,
Whose shady boughes sharp steele did neuer lop,
Nor wicked beastes their tender buds did crop,
But like a girlond compassed the hight,
And from their fruitfull sydes sweet gum did drop,
That all the ground with pretious deaw bedight,
Threw forth most dainty odours, & most sweet delight.
And in the thickest couert of that shade,
There was a pleasaunt Arbcr, not by art,
But of the trees owne inclination made,
Which knitting their rancke braunches part to part,
With wanton yuie twyne entrayld athwart,
And Eglantine, and [...] emong,
Fashiond aboue within their inmost part,
That nether Phoebus beams could through thē thrōg,
Nor Aeolus sharp blast could worke them any wrong.
And all about grew euery sort of flowre,
To which sad louers were transformde of yore;
Fresh Hyacinihus, Phoebus paramoure,
Foolish [...], that likes the [...] shore,
[Page 491]Sad Amaranthus, made a flowre but late,
Sad Amaranthus, in whose purple gore
Me seemes I see Amintas wretched fate,
To whom sweet Poets verse hath giuen endlesse date.
There wont fayre Venus often to enioy
Her deare Adonis ioyous company,
And reape sweet pleasure of the wanton boy:
There yet, some say, in secret he doesly,
Lapped in flowres and pretious spycery,
By her hid from the world, and from the skill
Of Stygian Gods, which doe her loue enuy;
But she her selfe, when euer that she will,
Possesseth him, and of his sweetnesse takes her fill.
And sooth it seemes they say: for he may not
For euer dye, and euer buried bee
In balefull night, where all thinges are forgot;
All be he subiect to mortalitie,
Yet is eterne in mutabilitie,
And by succession made perpetuall,
Transformed oft, and chaunged diuerslie:
For him the Father of all formes they call;
Therfore needs mote he liue, that liuing giues to all.
There now he liueth in eternall blis,
Ioying his goddesse, and of her enioyd:
Ne feareth he henceforth that foe of his,
Which with his cruell tuske him deadly cloyd:
For that wilde Bore, the which him once annoyd,
She firmely hath emprisoned for ay,
That her sweet loue his malice mote auoyd,
In a strong rocky Caue, which is they say,
He wen vnderneath that Mount, that none him losen may.
There now he liues in euerlasting ioy,
With many of the Gods in company,
Which thether haunt, and with the winged boy
Sporting him selfe in safe felicity:
Who when he hath with spoiles and cruelty
Ransackt the world, and in the wofull harts
Of many wretches set his triumphes hye,
Thether resortes, and laying his sad dartes
Asyde, with faire Adonis playes his wanton partes.
And his trew loue faire Psyche with him playes,
Fayre Psyche to him lately reconcyld,
After long troubles and vnmeet vpbrayes,
With which his mother Venus her reuyld,
And eke himselfe her cruelly exyld:
But now in stedfast loue and happy state
She with him liues, and hath him borne a chyld,
Pleasure, that doth both gods and men aggrate,
Pleasure, the daughter of Cupid and Psyche late.
Hether great Venus brought this infant fayre,
The yonger daughter of Chrysogonee,
And vnto Psyche with great trust and care
Committed her, yfostered to bee,
And trained vp in trew feminitee:
Who no lesse carefully her tendered,
Then her owne daughter Pleasure, to whom shee
Made her companion, and her lessoned
In all the lore of loue, and goodly womanhead.
In which when she to perfect ripenes grew,
Of grace and beautie noble Paragone,
She brought her forth into the worldes vew,
To be th'ensample of true loue alone,
[Page 493]And Lodestarre of all chaste affection,
To all fayre Ladies, that doe liue on grownd.
To Faery court she came, where many one
Admyrd her goodly haueour, and fownd
His feeble hart wide launch with loues cruel wownd.
But she to none of them her loue did cast,
Saue to the noble knight Sir Scudamore,
To whom her louing hart she linked fast
In faithfull loue, t'abide for euermore,
And for his dearest sake endured sore,
Sore trouble of an hainous enimy,
Who her would forced haue to haue for lore
Her former loue, and sted fast loialty,
As ye may elswhere reade that ruefull history.
But well I weene, ye first desire to learne,
What end vnto that fearefull Damozell,
Which fledd so fast from that same foster stearne,
Whom with his brethren Timias slew, befell:
That was to weet, the goodly Florimell,
Who wandring for to seeke her louer deare,
Her louer deare, her dearest Marinell,
Into misfortune fell, as ye did heare,
And from Prince Arthure fled with wings of idle feare.
Cant. VII.
The witches sonne loues Florimell:
She flyes, he faines to dy.
Satyrane saues the Sqnyre of Dames
From Gynunt, tyranny.
LIke as an Hynd forth singled from the heard,
That hath escaped from a rauenous beast,
Yet flyes away of her owne feete afeard,
And euery leafe, that shaketh with the least
Murmure of winde, her terror hath encreast;
So fledd fayre Florimell from her vaine feare,
Long after she from perill was releast:
Each shade she saw, and each noyse he did heare,
Did seeme to be the same, which she eseapt whileare.
All that same euening [...] in flying spent,
And all that night her course continewed:
Ne did shelet dull sleepe once to relent,
Nor wearinesse to slack her hast, but fled
Euer alike, as if her former dred
Were hard behind, her ready to arrest:
And her white Palfrey hauing conquered
The maistring raines out of her weary wrest,
Perforce her carried, where euer he thought best.
So long as breath, and hable puissaunce
Did natiue corage vnto him supply,
His pace he freshly forward did aduaunce,
And carried her beyond all ieopardy,
[Page 495]But nought that wanteth rest, can long aby.
He hauing through incessant traueill spent
His force, at last perforce adowne did ly,
Ne foot could further moue: The Lady gent
Thereat was suddein strook with great astonishment.
And forst t'alight, on foot mote algates fare,
A traueiler vnwonted to such way:
Need teacheth her this lesson hard and rare,
That fortune all in equall launce doth sway,
And mortall miseries doth make her play.
So long she traueild, till at length she came
To an hilles side, which did to her bewray
A litle valley, subiect to the same,
All couerd with thick woodes, that quite it ouercame.
Through the tops of the high trees she did descry
A litle smoke, whose vapour thin and light,
Reeking aloft, vprolled to the sky:
Which, chearefull signe did send vnto her sight,
That in the same did wonne some liuing wight.
Eftsoones her steps she thereunto applyd,
And came at last in weary wretched plight
Vnto the place, to which her hope did guyde,
To finde some refuge there, and rest her wearie syde.
There in a gloomy hollow glen she found
A little cottage, built of stickes and reedes
In homely wize, and wald with sods around,
In which a witch did dwell, in loathly weedes,
And wilfull want, all carelesse of her needes,
So choosing [...] to abide,
Far from all neighbours, that her diuelish deedes
And hellish arts from people she might hide,
And hurt far off vnknowne, whom euer she envide.
The Damzell there arriuing entred in;
Where sitting on the flore the Hag she found,
Busie (as seein'd) about some wicked gin:
Who soone as she beheld that suddein stound,
Lightly vpstarted from the dustie ground,
And with fell looke and hollow deadly gaze
Stared on her awhile, as one astound,
Ne had one word to speake, for great amaze,
But shewd by outward signes, that dread her sence did daze,
At last turning her feare to foolish wrath,
She askt, what deuill had her thether brought,
And who she was, and what vnwonted path
Had guided her, vnwelcomed, vnsought.
To which the Damzell full of doubtfull thought,
Her mildly answer'd; Beldame be not wroth
With silly Virgin by aduenture brought
Vnto your [...], ignorant and loth,
That craue but rowme to rest, while tempest ouerblo'th.
With that adowne out of her christall eyne
Few trickling teares she softly forth let fall,
That like two orient perles, did purely shyne
Vpon her snowy cheeke; and therewithall
She sighed soft, that none so bestiall,
Nor saluage hart, but ruth of her sad plight
Would make to melt, or pitteously appall;
And that vile Hag, all were her whole delight
In mischiefe, was much moued at so pitteous fight.
And gan recomfort her in her rude wyse,
With [...] compassion of her plaint,
Wiping the teares from her suffused eyes,
And bidding her sit downe, to rest her faint
[Page 497]And wearie limbs a while. She nothing quaint
Nors deignfull of so homely fashion,
Sith brought she was now to so hard constraint,
Sate downe vpon the dusty ground anon,
As glad of that small rest, as Bird of tempest gon.
Tho gan she gather vp her garments rent,
And her loose lockes to dight in order dew,
With golden wreath and gorgeous ornament;
Whom such whenas the wicked Hag did vew,
She was astonisht at her heauenly hew,
And doubted her to deeme an earthly wight,
But or some Goddesse, or of Dianes crew,
And thought her to adore with humble spright;
T'adore thing so diuine as beauty, were but right.
This wicked woman had a wicked sonne,
The comfort of her age and weary dayes,
A laesy loord, for nothing good to donne,
But stretched forth in ydlenesse alwayes,
Ne euer cast his mind to couet prayse,
Or ply him selfe to any honest trade,
But all the day before the sunny rayes
He vs'd to slug, or sleepe in slothfull shade:
Such laesinesse both lewd and poore attonce him made.
He comming home at vndertime, there found
The fayrest creature, that he euer saw,
Sitting beside his mother on the ground;
The sight whereof did greatly him adaw,
And his [...] thought with terrour and with aw
So inly smot, that as one, which hath gaz'd
On the bright Sunne vnwares, doth soone withdraw
His feeble eyne, with too much brightnes daz'd,
So stared he on her, and stood long while amaz'd.
Softly at last he gan his mother aske,
What mister wight that was, and whence deriu'd,
That in so straunge disguizement there did maske,
And by what accident she there arriu'd:
But she, as one nigh of her wits depriu'd,
With nought but ghastly lookes him answered,
Like to a ghost, that lately is reuiu'd
From Stygian shores, where late it wandered;
So both at her, and each at other wondered.
But the fayre Virgin [...] so meeke and myld,
That she to them [...] to embace
Her goodly port, and to their senses vyld,
Her gentle speach applyde, that in short space
She grew familiare in that desert place.
During which time, the Chorle through her so kind
And courteise vse conceiu'd affection bace,
And cast to loue her in his brutish mind,
No loue, but brutish lust, that was so beastly tind.
Closely the wicked flame his bowels brent,
And shortly grew into outrageous fire;
Yet had he not the hart, nor hardiment,
As vnto her to vtter his desire;
His caytiue thought durst not so high aspire,
But with soft sighes, and louely semblaunces,
He ween'd that his affection entire
She should aread; many resemblaunces
To her he made, and many kinde remembraunces.
Oft from the forrest wildings he did bring,
Whose sides empurpled were with [...],
And oft young birds, which he had taught to sing
His maistresse praises, sweetly caroled,
[Page 499]Girlonds of flowres sometimes for her faire hed
He fine would dight; sometimes the squirrell wild
He brought to her in bands, as conpuered
To be her thrall, his fellow seruant vild;
All which, she of him tooke with countenance meeke & mild.
But past awhile, when she fit season saw
To leaue that desert mansion, she cast
In secret wize her selfe thence to withdraw,
For feare of mischiefe, which she did forecast
Might by the witch or by her sonne compast:
Her wearie Palfrey closely, as she might,
Now well recouered after long repast,
In his proud furnitures she freshly dight,
His late miswandred wayes now to remeasure right.
And earely ere the dawning day appeard,
She forth issewed, and on her iourney went;
She went in perill, of each noyse affeard,
And of each shade, that did it selfe present;
For still she feared to be ouerhent,
Of that vile hag, or her vnciuile sonne:
Who when too late awaking, well they kent,
That their fayre guest was gone, they both begonne
To make exceeding mone, as they had beene vndonne.
But that lewd louer did the most lament
For her depart, that euer man did heare;
He knockt his brest with desperate intent,
And scratcht his face, and with his teeth did teare
His rugged flesh, and rent his ragged heare:
That his sad mother seeing his sore plight,
Was greatly woe begon, and gan to feare,
Least his fraile senses were emperisht quight,
And loue to frenzy turnd, sith loue is franticke hight.
All wayes shee sought, him to restore to plight,
With herbs, with charms, with coūsel, & with teares,
But tears, nor charms, nor herbs, nor counsell might
Asswage the fury, which his entrails teares:
So strong is passion, that no reason heares.
Tho when all other helpes she saw to faile,
She turnd her selfe backe to her wicked leares
And by her diuelish arts thought to preuaile,
To bring her backe againe, or worke her finall bale.
Estesoones out of her hidden caue she cald
An hideous beast, of horrible aspect,
That could the stoutest corage haue appald;
Monstrous, mishapt, and all his backe was spect
With thousand spots of colours queint elect,
Thereto so swifte, that it all beasts did pas:
Like neuer yet did liuing [...] detect;
But likest it to an Hyena was,
That feeds on wemens flesh, as others feede on gras.
It forth she cald, and gaue it streight in charge,
Through thicke and thin her to poursew apace,
Ne once to stay to rest, or breath at large,
Till her she had attaind, and brought in place,
Or quite deuourd her beauties [...] grace.
The Monster swifte as word, that from her went,
Went forth in haste, and did her footing trace
So sure and swiftly, through his perfect sent,
And passing speede, that shortly he her ouerhent.
Whom when the fearefull Damzell nigh espide,
No need to bid her fast away to flie;
That vgly shape so sore her terrifide,
That it she shund no lesse, then dread to die,
[Page 501]And her flitt Palfrey did so well apply
His nimble feet to her conceiued feare,
That whilest his breath did strength to him supply,
From perill free he her away did beare:
But when his force gan faile, his pace gan wex areare.
Which whenas she perceiu'd, she was dismayd
At that same last extremity ful sore,
And of her safety greatly grew afray d;
And now she gan approch to the sea shore,
As it befell, that she could flie no more,
But yield her selfe to spoile of greedinesse.
Lightly she leaped, as a wight forlore,
From her dull horse, in desperate distresse,
And to her feet betooke her doubtfull sickernesse.
Not halfe so fast the wicked Myrrha fled
From dread of her reuenging fathers hond:
Nor halfe so fast to saue her maydenhed,
Fled fearfull Daphne on th' AEgaean strond,
As Florimell fled from that Monster yond,
To reach the sea, ere she of him were raught:
For in the sea to drowne her selfe she fond,
Rather then of the tyrant to be caught:
Thereto fear gaue her wings, & need her corage taught.
It fortuned (high God did so ordaine)
As shee arriued on the roring shore,
In minde to leape into the mighty maine,
A little bote lay hoving her before,
In which there slept a fisher old and pore,
The whiles his nets were drying on the [...]:
Into the same shee lept, and with the ore
Did thrust the shallop from the floting strand:
So safety fownd at sea, which she fownd not at land.
The Monster ready on the pray to sease,
Was of his forward hope deceiued quight,
Ne durst assay to wade the [...] seas,
But greedily long gaping at the sight,
At last in vaine was forst to turne his flight,
And tell the idle tidings to his Dame:
Yet to auenge his diuelishe despight,
He sett vpon her Palfrey [...] lame,
And slew him cruelly, [...] any reskew came.
And after hauing him embowelled,
To fill his hellish gorge, it chaunst a knight
To passe that way, as forth he traueiled;
Yt was a goodly Swaine, and of great might,
As euer man that bloody field did fight;
But in vain sheows, that wont yong knights bewitch,
And courtly seruices tooke no delight,
But rather ioyd to bee, then seemen sich:
For both to be and seeme to him was labor lich.
It was to weete the good Sir Satyrane,
That raungd abrode to seeke aduentures wilde,
As was his wont in forest, and in plaine;
He was all armd in rugged steele vnfilde,
As in the smoky forge it was compilde,
And in his [...] bore a Satyres hedd:
He comming present, where the Monster vilde
Vpon that milke-white [...] carcas fedd,
Vnto his reskew ran, and greedily him spedd.
There well perceiud he, that it was the horse,
Whereon faire Florimell was wont to ride,
That of that feend was rent without remorse:
Much feared he, least ought did ill betide
[Page 503]To that faire Maide, the flowre of [...] pride;
For her he dearely loued, and in all
His famous [...] highly magnifide:
Besides her golden girdle, which did fall
From her in flight, he fownd, that did him sore apall.
Full of sad feare, and doubtfull agony,
Fiercely he flew vpon that wicked feend,
And with huge strokes, and cruell battery
Him forst to leaue his pray, for to attend
Him selfe from deadly daunger to defend:
Full many wounds in his corrupted flesh
He did engraue, and much ell blood did spend,
Yet might not [...] him die, but aie more fresh
And fierce he still appeard, the more he did him thresh.
He wist not, how him to despoile of life,
Ne how to win the wished victory,
Sith him he saw still stronger grow through strife,
And him selfe weaker through infirmity;
Greatly he grew enrag'd, and furiously
Hurling his sword away, he lightly lept
Vpon the beast, that with great cruelty
Rored, and raged to be vnderkept:
Yet he perforce him held, and strokes vpon him hept.
As he that striues to stop a suddein flood,
And in strong bancks his violence enclose,
Forceth it swell aboue his wonted mood,
And largely ouerflow the fruitfull plaine,
That all the countrey seemes to be a Maine,
And the rich furrowes flote, all quite fordonne:
The wofull husbandman doth lowd complaine,
To see his whole yeares labor lost so soone,
For which to God he made so many an idle boone.
So him he held, and did through might amate:
So long he held him, and him bett so long.
That at the last his [...] gan [...],
And meekely stoup vnto the victor strong:
Who to auenge the implacable wrong,
Which he supposed donne to Florimell,
Sought by all meanes his dolor to prolong,
Sith dint of steele his carcas could not quell:
His maker with her charmes had framed him so well.
The golden ribband, which that virgin wore
About her sclender waste, he tooke in hand,
And with it bownd the beast. that lowd did rore
For great despight of that vnwonted band,
Yet dared not his victor to withstand,
But trembled like a lambe, fled from the pray,
And all the way him followd on the strand,
As he had long bene learned to obay;
Yet neuer learned he such seruice, till that day.
Thus as he led the Beast along the way,
He spide far of a mighty Giauntesse,
Fast flying on a Courser dapled gray,
From a bold knight, that with great hardinesse
Her hard pursewd, and sought for to suppresse;
She bore before her lap a dolefull Squire,
Lying athwart her horse in great distresse,
Fast bounden hand and foote with cords of wire,
Whom she did meane to make the thrall of her desire.
Which whenas Satyrane beheld, in haste
He lefte his captiue Beast at liberty,
And crost the nearest way, by which he cast
Her to encounter, ere she passed by:
[Page 505]But she the way shund nathemore for thy,
But forward gallopt fast, which when he spyde,
His mighty speare he couched warily,
And at her ran: she hauing him descryde,
Her selfe to fight addrest, and threw her lode aside.
Like as a Goshauke, that in foote doth beare
A trembling Culuer, hauing spide on hight
An Eagle, that with plumy wings doth sheare
The subtile ayre, stouping with all his might,
The quarrey throwes to ground with fell despight,
And to the batteill doth her selfe prepare:
So ran the Geauntesse vnto the fight;
Her fyrie eyes with furious sparkes did stare,
And with blasphemous bannes high God in peeces tare
She caught in hand an huge great yron mace,
Wherewith she many had of life depriu'd;
But ere the stroke could seize his aymed place,
His speare amids her sun-brode shield arriu'd,
Yet nathemore the steele a sonder riu'd,
All were the beame in bignes like a mast,
Ne her out of the stedfast sadle driu'd,
But glauncing on the tempred metall, brast
In thousand shiuers, and so forth beside her past.
Her Steed did stagger with that puissaunt strooke,
But she no more was moued with that might,
Then it had lighted on an aged Oke;
Or on the marble Pillour, that is pight
Vpon the top of Mount Olympus hight,
For the braue youthly Champions to assay,
With burning charet wheeles it night to smite:
But who that smites it, mars his ioyous play,
And is the spectacle of ruinous decay.
Yet there with sore enrag'd, with sterne regard
Her dreadfull weapon she to him addrest,
Which on his helmet martelled so hard,
That made him low incline his lofty crest,
And bowd his battred visour to his brest:
Wherewith she was so stuned, that he n'ote ryde
But reeled to and fro from east to west:
Which when his cruell enimy espyde,
She lightly vnto him adioyned syde to syde;
And on his collar laying puissaunt hand,
Out of his wauering seat him pluckt perforse,
Perforse him pluckt, vnable to withstand,
Or helpe himselfe, and laying thwart her horse,
In loathly wise like to a carrion corse,
She bore him fast away. Which when the knight,
That her pursewed, saw with great remorse,
He were was touched in his noble spright,
And gan encrease his speed, as she encreast her flight.
Whom when as nigh approching she espyde,
She threw away her burden angrily;
For she list not the batteill to abide,
But made her selfe more light, away to fly:
Yet her the hardy knight pursewd so nye
That almost in the backe he oft her strake:
But still when him at hand she did espy,
She turnd, and semblaunce of faire fight did make;
But when he stayd, to flight againe she did her take.
By this the good Sir Satyrane gan wake
Out of his dreame, that did him long entraunce,
And seeing none in place, he gan to make
Exceeding mone, and curst that cruell chaunce,
[Page 507]Which reft from him so faire a cheuisaunce:
At length he spyde, whereas that wofull Squyre,
Whom he had reskewed from captiuaunce
Of his strong foe, lay tombled in the myre,
Vnable to arise, or foot or hand to styre.
To whom approching, well he more perceiue
In that fowle plight a comely personage,
And louely face, made fit for to deceiue
Fraile Ladies hart with loves consuming rage,
Now in the blossome of his freshest age:
He reard him vp, and loosd his yron bands,
And after gan inquire his parentage,
And how he fell into the Gyaunts hands,
And who that was, which chaced her along the lands.
Then trembling yet through feare, the Squire bespake,
That Geauntesse Argante is behight,
A daughter of the Titans which did make
Warre against heuen, and heaped hils on hight,
To scale the skyes, and put Ioue from his right:
Her syre Typhoeus was, who mad through merth,
And dronke with blood of men, slaine by his might,
Through incest, her of his owne mother Earth
Whylome begot, being but halfe twin of that berth.
For at that berth another Babe she bore,
To weet the mightie Ollyphant, that wrought
Great wreake to many errant knights of yore,
Till him Chylde Thopas to confusion brought.
These twinnes, men say, (a thing far passing thought)
Whiles in their mothers wombe enclosd they were,
Ere they into the lightsom world were brought,
In fleshly lust were mingled both yfere,
And in that monstrous wise did to the world appere.
So liu'd they euer after in like sin,
Gainst natures law, and good behaueoure:
But greatest shame was to that maiden twin,
Who not content so fowly to deuoure:
Her natiue flesh, and staine her brothers bowre,
Did wallow in all other fleshly myre,
And suffred beastes her body to deflowre:
So whot she burned in that lustfull fyre,
Yet all that might not slake her sensuall desyre.
But ouer all the countrie she did raunge,
To seeke young men, to [...] her [...] thrust,
And feed her fancy with delightfull chaunge:
Whom so she fittest findes to serue her lust,
Through her maine strēgth, in which she most doth trust,
She with her bringes into a secret Ile,
Where in eternall bondage dye he must,
Orbe the vassall of her pleasures vile,
And in all shamefull sort him selfe with her defile.
Me seely wretch she so at vauntage caught,
After she long in waite for me did lye,
And meant vnto her prison to haue brought,
Her lothsom pleasure there to satisfye;
That thousand deathes me leuer were to dye,
Then breake the vow, that to faire Columbell
I plighted haue, and yet keepe stedfastly:
As for my name, it mistreth not to tell;
Call me the Squyre of Dames that me beseemeth well.
But that bold knight, whom ye pursuing saw
That Geauntesse, is not such, as she seemd,
But a faire virgin, that in martiall law,
And deedes of armes aboue all [...] it deemd,
[Page 509]And aboue many knightes is eke esteemd,
For her great worth; She Palladine is hight:
She you from death, you me from dread redeemd.
Ne any may that Monster match in fight,
But she, or [...] as she, that is so chaste a wight.
Her well beseemes that Quest (quoth Satyrane)
But read, thou Squyre of Dames, what vow is this,
Which thou vpon thy selfe hast lately ta'ne,
That shall I you recount (quoth he) ywis,
So be ye pleasd to pardon all amis,
That gentle Lady, whom I loue and serue,
After long suit and wearie seruicis,
Did aske me, how I could her loue deserue,
And how she might be sure, that I would neuer swerue.
I glad by any meanes her grace to gaine,
Badd her commaund my life to saue, or spill.
Eftsoones she badd me, with incessaunt paine
To wander through the world abroad at will,
And euery where, where with my power or skill
I might doe seruice vnto gentle Dames,
That I the same should faithfully fulfill,
And at the twelue monethes end should bring their names
And pledges; as the spoiles of my victorious games.
So well I to faire Ladies seruice did,
And found such fauour in their louing hartes,
That ere the yeare his course had compassid,
Thre hundred pledges for my good desartes,
And thrise three hundred thanks for my good partes
I with me brought, and did to her present:
Which when she saw, more bent to eke my [...],
Then to reward my trusty true intent,
She gan for me deuise a grieuous punishment.
To weet, that I my traueill should resume,
And with like labour walke the world arownd,
Ne euer to her presence should presume,
Till I so many other Dames had fownd,
The which, for all the suit I could propownd,
Would me refuse their pledges to afford,
But did abide for euer chaste and sownd.
Ah gentle Squyre (quoth he) tell at one word,
How many [...] thou such to put in thy record?
In deed Sir knight (said he) one word may tell
All, that I euer fownd so wisely stayd;
For onely three they were disposd so well,
And yet three yeares I now abrode haue strayd,
To fynd them out. Mote I (then laughing sayd
The knight) inquire of thee, what were those three,
The which thy proffred curtesie denayd?
Or ill they seemed sure auizd to bee,
Or brutishly brought vp, that neu'r did fashions see.
The first which then refused me (said hee)
Certes was but a common Courtisane,
Yet [...] refusd to haue adoe with mee,
Because I could not giue her many a Iane.
(Thereat full hartely laughed Satyrane)
The second was an holy Nunne to chose,
Which would not let me be her Chappellane,
Because she knew, she sayd, I would disclose
Her counsell, if she should her trust in me repose.
The third a Damzell was of low degree,
Whom I in countrey cottage fownd by chaunce;
Full litle weened I, that chastitee
Had lodging in so meane a maintenaunce,
[Page 511]Yet was she fayre, and in her countenaunce
Dwelt simple truth in seemely fashion.
Long thus I woo'd her with dew obseruaunce,
In hope vnto my pleasure to haue won,
But was as far at last, as when I first begon.
Safe her, I neuer any woman found,
That chastity did for it selfe embrace,
But were for other causes firme and sound,
Either for want of handsome time and place,
Or else for feare of shame and fowle disgrace.
Thus am I hopelesse euer to attaine
My Ladies loue, in such a desperate case,
But all my dayes am like to waste in vaine,
Seeking to match the chaste with th'vnchaste Ladies traine.
Perdy, (sayd Satyrane) thou Squyre of Dames,
Great labour fondly hast thou hent in hand,
To get small thankes, and there with many blames,
That may emongst Alcides labours stand.
Thence bace returning to the former land,
Where late he left the Beast, he ouercame,
He found him not; for he had broke his band,
And was returnd againe vnto his Dame,
To tell what tydings of fayre Florimell became.
Cant. VIII.
The Witch creates a snowy Lady,
like to Florimell,
Who wrongd by Carle by Proteus sau'd,
is sought by Paridell.
SO oft as I this history record,
My hart doth melt with meere compassion,
To thinke, how causelesse of her owne accord
This gentle Damzell, whom I write vpon,
Should plonged be in such affliction,
Without all hope of comfort or reliefe,
That sure I weene, the hardest hart of stone,
Would hardly finde to aggrauate her griefe;
For misery craues rather mercy, then repriefe.
But that accursed Hag, her hostesse late,
Had so enranckled her malitious hart,
That she desyrd th'abridgement of her fate,
Or long enlargement of her painefull smart.
Now when the Beast, which by her wicked art
Late foorth she sent, she backe retourning spyde,
Tyde with her golden girdle, it a part
Of her rich spoyles, whom he had earst destroyd,
She weend, & wondrous gladnes to her hart applyde.
And with it ronning hast'ly to her sonne,
Thought with that sight him much to haue reliu'd;
Who thereby deeming sure the thing as donne,
His former griefe with furie fresh reuiu'd,
[Page 513]Much more then earst, and would haue algates riu'd
The hart out of his brest: for sith her dedd
He surely dempt, himselfe he thought depriu'd
Quite of all hope, wherewith he long had fedd
His foolish malady, and long time had misledd.
With thought whereof, exceeding mad he grew,
And in his rage his mother would haue slaine,
Had she not fled into a secret mew,
Where she was wont her Sprightes to entertaine
The maisters of her art: there was she faine
To call them all in order to her ayde,
And them coniure vpon eternall paine,
To counsell her so carefully dismayd,
How she might heale her sonne, whose senses were decayd.
By their deuice, and her owne wicked wit,
She there deuiz'd a wondrous worke to frame,
Whose like on earth was neuer framed yit,
That euen Nature selfe enuide the same,
And grudg'd to see the counterfet should shame
The thing it selfe: In hand she boldly tooke
To make another like the former Dame,
Another Florimell, in shape and looke
So liuely and so like, that many it mistooke.
The substance, whereof she the body made,
Was purest snow in massy mould congeald,
Which she had gathered in a shady glade
Of the Riphoean hils, to her reueald
By errant Sprights, but from all men conceald:
The same she tempred with fine Mercury,
And virgin wex, that neuer yet was seald,
And mingled them with perfect vermily,
That like a liuely sanguine it seemd to the eye.
In stead of eyes two burning lampes she set
In siluer sockets, shyning like the skyes,
And a quicke mouing Spirit did arret
To stirre and roll them, like to womens eyes;
In stead of yellow lockes she did deuyse,
With golden wyre to weaue her curled head;
Yet golden wyre was not so yellow thryse
As Florimells fayre heare: and in the stead
Of life, she put a Spright to rule the carcas dead.
A wicked Spright yfraught with fawning guyle,
And fayre resemblance aboue all the rest,
Which with the Prince of Darkenes fell lome whyle;
From heauens blis and euerlasting rest,
Him needed not instruct, which way were best
Him selfe to fashion likest Florimell,
Ne how to speake, ne how to vse his gest,
For he in counterfesaunce did excell,
And all the wyles of wemens wits knew passing well.
Him shaped thus, she deckt in garments gay,
Which Florimell had left behind her late,
That who so then her saw, would surely say,
It was her selfe, whom it did imitate,
Or fayrer then her selfe, if ought algate
Might fayrer be. And then she forth her brought
Vnto her sonne, that lay in feeble state;
Who seeing her gan streight vpstart, and thought
She was the Lady selfe, who he so long had sought.
Tho fast her clipping twixt his armes twayne,
Extremely ioyed in so happy sight,
And soone forgot his former sickely payne;
But she, the more to seeme such as she hight,
[Page 515]Coyly rebutted his embracement light;
Yet still with gentle countenaunce retain'd,
Enough to hold a foole in vaine delight:
Him long she so with shadowes entertain'd,
As her Creatresse had in charge to her ordain'd.
Till on a day, as he disposed was
To walke the woodes with that his Idole faire,
Her to disport, and idle time to pas,
In th'open freshnes of the gentle aire,
A knight that way there chaunced to repaire;
Yet knight he was not, but a boastfull swaine,
That deedes of armes had euer in despaire,
Proud Braggadocchio, that in vaunting vaine
His glory did repose, and credit did maintaine.
He seeing with that Chorle so faire a wight,
Decked with many a costly ornament,
Much merueiled thereat, as well he might,
And thought that match a fowle disparagement:
His bloody speare eftesoones he boldly bent
Against the silly clowne, who dead through feare,
Fell streight to ground in great astonishment;
Villein (sayd he) this Lady is my deare,
Dy, if thou it gainesay: I will away her beare.
The fearefull Chorle durst not gainesay, nor dooe,
But trembling stood, and yielded him the pray;
Who finding litle leasure her to wooe,
On Tromparts steed her mounted without stay,
And without reskew led her quite away.
Proud man himselfe then Braggadochio deem'd,
And next to none, after that happy day,
Being possessed of that spoyle, which seem'd
The fairest wight on ground, and most of men esteem'd.
But when hee saw him selfe free from poursute,
He gan make gentle purpose to his Dame,
With termes of loue and lewdnesse dissolute;
For he could well his glozing speaches frame
To such vaine vses, that him best became:
But she thereto would lend but light regard,
As seeming sory, that she euer came
Into his powre, that vsed her so hard,
To reaue her honor, which she more then life prefard.
Thus as they two of kindnes treated long,
There them by chaunce encountred on the way
An armed knight, vpon a courser strong,
Whose trampling feete vpon the hollow lay
Seemed to thunder, and did nigh affray
That Capons corage: yet he looked grim,
And faynd to cheare his lady in dismay,
Who seemd for feare to quake in euery lim,
And her to saue from outrage, meekely prayed him.
Fiercely that straunger forward came, and nigh
Approching, with bold words and bitter threat,
Bad that same boaster, as he mote, on high
To leaue to him that lady for excheat,
Or bide him batteill without further treat.
That challenge did too peremptory seeme,
And fild his senses with abashment great;
Yet seeing nigh him ieopardy extreme,
He it dissembled well, and light seemd to esteeme.
Saying, Thou foolish knight, that weenst with words
To steale away, that I with blowes haue wonne,
And broght throgh points of many perilous swords:
But if thee list to see thy Courser ronne,
[Page 517]Or proue thy selfe, this sad encounter shonne,
And seeke els without hazard of thy hedd.
At those prowd words that other knight begonne
To wex exceeding wroth, and him aredd
To turne his steede about, or sure he should be dedd.
Sith then (said Braggadochio) needes thou wilt
Thy daies abridge, through proofe of puissaunce,
Turne we our steeds, that both in equall tilt
May meete againe, and each take happy chaunce.
This said they both a furlongs mountenaunce
Retird their steeds, to ronne in euen race:
But Braggadochio with his bloody launce
Once hauing turnd, no more returnd his face,
But lefte his loue to losse, and fled him selfe apace.
The knight him seeing flie, had no regard
Him to poursew, but to the lady rode,
And hauing her from Trompart lightly reard,
Vpon his Courser sett the louely lode,
And with her fled away without abode.
Well weened he, that fairest Florimell
It was, with whom in company he yode,
And so her selfe did alwaies to him tell;
So made him thinke him selfe in heuen, that was in hell.
But Florimell her selfe was far away,
Driuen to great distresse by fortune straunge,
And taught the carefull Mariner to play,
Sith late mischaunce had her compeld to chaunge
The land for sea, at randon there to raunge:
Yett there that cruell Queene auengeresse,
Not satisfyde so far her to estraunge
From courtly blis and wonted happinesse,
Did heape on her new waues of weary wretchednesse.
For being fled into the fishers bote,
For refuge from the Monsters cruelty,
Long so she on the mighty maine did flote,
And with the tide droue forward carelesly,
For th'ayre was milde, and cleared was the skie,
And all his windes Dan Aeolus did keepe,
From stirring vp their stormy enmity,
As pittying to see her waile and weepe;
But all the while the fisher did securely sleepe.
At last when droncke with drowsinesse, he woke,
And saw his drouer driue along the streame,
He was dismayd, and thrise his brest he stroke,
For marueill of that accident extreame;
But when he saw, that blazing beauties beame,
Which with rare light his bote did beautifye,
He marueild more, and thought he yet did dreame
Not well awakte, or that some extasye
Assotted had his sence, or dazed was his eye.
But when her well auizing, hee peceiu'd
To be no vision, nor fantasticke sight,
Great comfort of her presence he conceiu'd,
And felt in his old corage new delight
To gin awake, and stir his frosen spright:
Tho rudely askte her, how she thether came.
Ah (sayd she) father I note read aright,
What hard misfortune brought me to this same;
Yet am I glad that here I now in fafety ame.
But thou good man, sith far in sea we bee,
And the great waters gin apace to swell,
That now no more we can the mayn-land see,
Haue care, I pray, to guide the cock-bote well,
[Page 519]Least worse on sea then vs on land befell,
Thereat th'old man did nought but fondly grin,
And saide, his boat the way could wisely tell:
But his deceiptfull eyes did neuer lin,
To looke on her faire face, and marke her snowy skin.
The sight whereof in his congealed flesh,
Infixt such secrete sting of greedy lust,
That the drie withered stocke it gan refresh,
And kindled heat, that soone in flame forth brust:
The driest wood is soonest burnt to dust.
Rudely to her he lept, and his rough hand
Where ill became him, rashly would haue thrust,
But she with angry scorne him did withstond,
And shamefully reprou'd for his ru denes fond.
But he, that neuer good nor maners knew,
Her sharpe rebuke full litle did esteeme;
Hard is to teach an old horse amble trew.
The inward smoke, that did before but steeme,
Broke into open fire and rage extreme,
And now he strength gan adde vnto his will,
Forcyng to doe, that did him fowle misseeme:
Beastly he threwe her downe, ne car'd to spill
Her garments gay with scales of fish, that all did fill.
The silly virgin stroue him to withstand,
All that she might, and him in vaine reuild:
Sheestrugled strongly both with foote and hand,
To saue her honor from that villaine vilde,
And cride to heuen, from humane helpe exild.
O ye braue knights, that boast this Ladies loue,
Where be ye now, when she is nigh defild
Of filthy wretch? well may she you reproue
Of falsehood or of slouth, when most it may behoue.
But if that thou, Sir Satyran, didst weete,
Or thou, Sir Peridure, her sory state,
How soone would yee assemble many a fleete,
To fetch from sea, that ye at land lost late;
Towres, citties, kingdomes ye would ruinate,
In your auengement and dispiteous rage,
Ne ought your burning fury mote abate;
But if Sir Calidore could it presage,
No liuing creature could his cruelty asswage.
But sith that none of all her knights is nye,
See how the heauens of voluntary grace,
And soueraine fauor towards chastity,
Doesuccor send to her distressed cace:
So much high God doth innocence embrace.
It fortuned, whilest thus she stifly stroue,
And the wide sea importuned long space
With shrilling shriekes, Proteus abrode did roue,
Along the fomy waues driuing his finny droue.
Proteus is Shepheard of the seas of yore,
And hath the charge of Neptunes mighty heard,
An aged sire with head all frowy hore,
And sprinckled frost vpon his deawy beard:
Who when those pittifull outcries he heard,
Through all the seas so ruefully resownd,
His charett swifte in hast he thether steard,
Which with a teeme of scaly Phocas bownd
Was drawne vpon the waues, that fomed him arownd.
And comming to that Fishers wandring bote,
That [...] at will, withouten card or sayle,
He therein saw that yrkesome sight, which smote
Deepe indignation and compassion frayle
[Page 521]Into his hart attonce: streight did he hayle
The greedy villein from his hoped pray,
Of which he now did very litle fayle,
And with his staffe, that driues his heard astray,
Him bett fo sore, that life and sence did much dismay.
The whiles the pitteous Lady vp did ryse,
Ruffled and fowly raid with filthy soyle,
And blubbred face with teares of her faire [...]
Her heart nigh broken was with weary toyle,
To saue her selfe from that outrageous spoyle,
But when she looked vp, to weet, what wight
Had her from so infamous fact assoyld,
For shame, but more for feare of his grim sight,
Downe in her lap she hid her face, and lowdly shright.
Herselfe not saued yet from daunger dredd
She thought, but chaung'd from one to other feare;
Like as a fearefull partridge, that is fledd
From the sharpe hauke, which her attached neare,
And fals to ground, to seeke for succor theare,
Whereas the hungry Spaniells she does spye,
With greedy iawes her ready for to teare;
In such distresse and sad perplexity
Was Florimell, when Proteus she did see her by.
But he endeuored with speaches milde
Her to recomfort, and accourage bold,
Bidding her feare no more her foeman vilde,
Nor doubt himselfe; and who he was her told.
Yet all that could not from affright her hold,
Ne to recomfort her at all preuayld;
For her faint hart was with the frosen cold
Benumbd so inly, that her wits nigh fayld,
And all her sences with abashment quite were quayld.
Her vp betwixt his rugged hands he reard,
And with his frory lips full softly kist,
Whiles the cold ysickles from his rough beard,
Dropped adowne vpon her yuory brest:
Yet he him selfe so busily addrest,
That her out of astonishment he wrought,
And out of that same fishers filthy nest
Remouing her, into his charet brought,
And there with many gentle termes her faire besought.
But that old leachour, which with bold assault
That beautie durst presume to violate,
He cast to punish for his hainous fault;
Then tooke he him yet trembling sith of late,
And tyde behind his charet, to aggrate
The virgin, whom he had abusde so sore:
So drag'd him through the waues in scornfull state,
And after cast him vp, vpon the shore;
But Florimell with him vnto his bowre he bore.
His bowre is in the bottom of the maine,
Vnder a mightie rocke, gainst which doe raue
The roring billowes in their proud disdaine,
That with the angry working of the waue,
Therein is eaten out an hollow caue,
That seemes rough Masons hand with engines keene
Had long while laboured it to engraue:
There was his wonne, ne [...] wight was seene,
Saue one old Nymph, high [...] to keepe it cleane.
Thether he brought the sory Florimell,
And entertained her the best he might
And Panope her entertaind eke well,
As an immortall mote a mortall wight,
[Page 523]To winne her liking vnto his delight:
With flattering wordes he sweetly wooed her,
And offered faire guiftes, t'allure her sight,
But she both offers and the offerer
Despysde, and all the sawning of the flatterer.
Dayly he tempted her with this or that,
And neuer suffred her to be at rest:
But euermore she him refused flat,
And all his fained kindnes did detest.
So firmely she had sealed vp her brest.
Sometimes he boasted, that a God he hight:
But she a mortall creature loued best:
Then he would make him selfe a mortall wight;
But then she said she lou'd none, but a Faery knight.
Then like a [...] knight him selfe he drest;
For euery shape on him he could endew:
Then like a king he was to her exprest,
And offred kingdoms vnto her in vew,
To be his Leman and his Lady trew:
But when all this he nothing saw preuaile,
With harder meanes he cast her to subdew,
And with sharpe threates her often did assayle,
So thinking for to make her stubborne corage quayle.
To dreadfull shapes he did him selfe transforme,
Now like a Gyaunt, now like to a feend,
Then like a Centaure, then like to a storme,
Raging within the waues: thereby he weend
Her will to win vnto his wished eend.
But when with feare, nor fauour, nor with all
He els could doe, he saw him selfe esteemd,
Downe in a Dongeon deepe he let her fall,
And threatned there to make her his eternall thrall.
Eternall thraldome was to her more liefe,
Then losse of chastitie, or chaunge of loue:
Dye had she rather in tormenting griefe,
Then any should of falsenesse her reproue,
Or loosenes, that she lightly did remoue.
Most vertuous virgin, glory be thy meed,
And crowne of heauenly prayse with Saintes aboue,
Where most sweet hymmes of this thy famous deed
Are still emongst them song, that far my rymes exceed.
Fit song of Angels caroled to bee,
But yet what so my feeble Muse can frame,
Shal be t'aduance thy goodly chastitee,
And to enroll thy memorable name,
In th'heart of euery honourable Dame,
That they thy vertuous deedes may imitate,
And be partakers of thy endlesse fame.
Yt yrkes me, leaue thee in this wofull state,
To tell of Satyrane, where I him left of late.
Who hauing ended with that Squyre of Dames
A long discourse of his aduentures vayne,
The which himselfe, then Ladies more defames,
And finding not th'Hyena to be slayne,
With that same Squyre, retourned back agayne
To his first way. And as they forward went,
They spyde a knight fayre pricking on the playne,
As if he were on some aduenture bent,
And in his port appeared manly hardiment.
Sir Satyrane him towardes did addresse,
To weet, what wight he was, and what his quest:
And comming nigh, eftsoones he gan to gesse
Both by the burning hart, which on his brest
[Page 525]He bare, and by the colours in his crest,
That Paridell it was. Tho to him yode,
And him saluting, as beseemed best,
Gan first inquire of tydinges farre abrode;
And afterwardes, on what aduenture now he rode.
Who thereto answering said, The tydinges bad,
Which now in Faery court all men doe tell,
Which turned hath great mirth, to mourning sad,
Is the late ruine of proud Marinell,
And suddein parture of faire Florimell,
To find him forth: and after her are gone
All the braue knightes, that doen in armes excell,
To sauegard her, ywandred all alone;
Emongst the rest my lott (vnworthy') is to be one.
Ah gentle knight (said then Sir Satyrane)
Thy labour all is lost, I greatly dread,
That hast a thanklesse seruice on thee ta'ne,
And offrest sacrifice vnto the dead:
For dead, I surely doubt, thou maist aread
Henceforth for euer Florimell to bee,
That all the noble knights of Maydenhead,
Which her ador'd, may sore repent with mee,
And all faire Ladies may for euer sory bee.
Which wordes when Paridell had heard, his hew
Gan greatly chaung and seemd dismaid to bee,
Then said, Fayre Sir, how may I weene it [...],
That ye doe tell in such vncerteintee?
Or speake ye of report, or did ye see
Iust cause of dread, that makes ye doubt so sore?
For perdie elles how mote it euer bee,
That euer hand should dare for to engore
Her noble blood? the heuens such crueltie abhore.
These eyes did see, that they will euer rew
To haue seene, (quoth he) when as a monstrous beast
The Palfrey, whereon she did trauell, slew,
And of his bowels made his bloody feast:
Which speaking token sheweth at the least
Her certeine losse, if not her sure decay:
Besides, that more suspicion encreast,
I found her golden girdle cast astray,
Distaynd with durt and blood, as relique of the pray.
Ay me, (said Pauidell) the [...] be sadd,
And but God turne the same to good sooth say,
That Ladies safetie is sore to be dradd:
Yet will I not forsake my forward way,
Till triall doe more certeine truth bewray.
Faire Sir (qd. he) well may it you succed,
Ne long shall Satyrane behind you stay,
But to the rest, which in this Quest proceed
My labour adde, and be partaker of their speed.
Ye noble knights (said then the Squyre of Dames)
Well may yee speede in so praise worthy payne:
But sith the Sunne now ginnes to slake his beames,
In deawy vapours of the westerne mayne,
And lose the teme out of his weary wayne,
Mote not mislike you also to abate
Your zealous hast, till morrow next againe
Both light of heuen, and strength of men relate:
Which if ye please, to yonder castle turne your gate.
That counsell pleased well; so all yfere
Forth marched to a Castle them before,
Where soone arryuing, they restrained were
Of ready entraunce, which ought euermore
[Page 527]To errant knights be commune: wondrous [...]
Thereat displeasd they were, till that young Squyre
Gan them informe the cause, why that same dore
Was shut to all, which lodging did desyre:
The which to let you weet, will further time requyre.
Cant. IX.
Malbecco will no straunge knights host,
For peeuish gealosy:
Paridell giusts with Britomart:
both shew their auncestry.
REdoubted knights, and honorable Dames,
To whom I leuell all my labours end,
Right sore I feare, least with vnworthie blames
This odious argument my rymes should shend,
Or ought your goodly patience offend,
Whiles of a wanton Lady I doe write,
Which with her loose incontinence doth blend
The shyning glory of your soueraine light;
And knighthood fowle defaced by a faithlesse knight.
But neuer let th'ensample of the bad
Offend the good: for good by paragone
Of euill, may more notably be rad,
As white seemes fayrer, macht with blacke attonce;
Ne all are shamed by the fault of one:
For lo in heuen, whereas all goodnes is,
Emongst the Angels, a whole legione
Of wicked Sprightes did fall from happy blis;
What wonder then, if one of women all did mis?
Then listen Lordings, if ye list to weet
The cause, why [...] and Paridell
[...] not be entertaynd, as seemed meet,
Into that [...] (as that Squyre does tell.)
Therein a [...] crabbed Carle does dwell,
That has no skill of Court nor courtesie,
Ne cares, what men say of him ill or well;
For all his dayes he drownes in priuitie,
Yet has full large to liue, and spend at libertie.
But all his mind is set on mucky pelfe,
To hoord vp heapes of euill gotten masse,
For which he others wrongs and wreckes himselfe;
Yet is he lincked to a louely lasse,
Whose beauty doth her bounty far surpasse,
The which to him both far vnequall yeares,
And also far vnlike conditions has;
For she does ioy to playemongst her peares,
And to be free from hard restraynt and gealous feares.
But he is old, and withered like hay,
Vnfit faire Ladies seruice to supply,
The priuie guilt whereof makes him alway
Suspect her truth, and keepe continuall spy
Vpon her with his other blincked eye;
Ne suffreth he resort of liuing wight
Approch to her, ne keepe her company,
But in close bowre her mewes from all mens sight,
[...] of kindly ioy and naturall delight.
Malbecco he, and Hellenore she hight,
Vnfitly yokt together in one teeme,
That is the cause, why neuer any knight
Is suffred here to enter, but he seeme
[Page 529]Such, as no doubt of him he neede misdeeme.
Thereat Sir Satyrane gan smyle, and say;
Extremely mad the man I surely deeme,
That weenes with watch and hard restraynt to stay
A womans will, which is disposd to go astray.
In vaine he feares that, which he cannot shonne:
For who wotes not, that womans subtiltyes
Can guylen Argus, when she list disdonne?
It is not yron bandes, nor hundred eyes,
Nor brasen walls, nor many wakefull spyes,
That can withhold her wilfull wandring feet,
But fast goodwill with gentle courtesyes,
And timely seruice to her pleasures meet
May her perhaps containe, that else would algates fleet.
Then is he not more mad (sayd Paridell)
That hath himselfe vnto such seruice sold,
In dolefull thraldome all his dayes to dwell?
For sure a foole I doe him firmely hold,
That loues his fetters, though they were of gold.
But why doe wee deuise of others ill,
Whyles thus we suffer this same [...] old,
To keepe vs out, in scorne of his owne will,
And rather do not ransack all, and him selfe kill?
Nay let vs first (sayd Satyrane) entreat
The man by gentle meanes, to let vs in,
And afterwardes affray with cruell threat,
Ere that we to efforce it doe begin:
Then if all fayle, we will by force it win,
And eke reward the wretch for his mesprise,
As may be worthy of his hayno us sin.
That counsell pleasd: then Paridell did rise,
And to the Castle gate approcht in quiet wise.
Where at soft knocking, entrance he desyrd.
The good man selfe, which then the Porter playd,
Him answered, that all were now retyrd
Vnto their rest, and all the keyes conuayd
Vnto then maister, who in bed was layd,
That none him durst awake out of his dreme;
And therefore them of patience gently prayd.
Then Paridell began to chaunge his theme,
And threatned him with force & punishment extreme.
But all in vaine; for nought mote him relent,
And now so long before the wicket fast
They wayted, that the night was forward spent,
And the faire welkin fowly ouercast,
Gan blowen vp a bitter stormy blast,
With showre and hayle [...] horrible and dred,
That this faire many were compeld at last,
To fly for succour to a little shed,
The which beside the gate for sivyne was ordered.
It fortuned, soone after they were gone,
Another knight, whom tempest thether brought,
Came to that Castle, and with earnest mone,
Like as the rest, late entrance deare besought;
But like so as the rest he prayd for nought,
For flatly he of entrance was refusd.
Sorely thereat he was displeasd, and thought
How to auenge himselfe so sore abusd,
And euermore the Carle of courtesie accusd.
But to auoyde th'intollerable stowre,
He was compeld to seeke some refuge neare,
And to that shed, to shrowd him from the showre,
He came, which full of guests he found whyleare,
[Page 531]So as he was not let to enter there:
Whereat he gan to wex exceeding wroth,
And swore, that he would lodge with them yfere,
Or them dislodg, all were they liefe or loth;
And so defyde them each, and so desyde them both.
Both were full loth to leaue that needfull tent,
And both full loth in darkenesse to debate;
Yet both full liefe him lodging to haue lent,
And both full liefe his boasting to abate;
But chiefely Paridell his hart did grate,
To heare him threaten so despightfully,
As if he did a dogge in kenell rate,
That durst not barke; and rather had he dy,
Then when he was defyde, in coward corner ly.
Tho hastily remounting to his steed,
He forth issew'd; like as a boystrous winde,
Which in th'earthes hollow caues hath long ben hid,
And shut vp fast within her prisons blind,
Makes the huge element against her kinde
To moue, and tremble as it were aghast,
Vntill that it an issew forth may finde;
Then forth it breakes, and with his furious blast
Confounds both land & seas, and skyes doth ouercast.
Their steel- [...] speares they strongly coucht, and met
Together with impetuous rage and forse,
That with the terrour of their fierce affret,
They rudely droue to ground both man and horse,
That each a while lay like a sencelesse corse.
But Paridell [...] brused with the blow,
Could not arise, the counterchaunge to scorse,
Till that young Squyre him reared from below;
Then drew he his bright sword, & gan about him throw
But Saiyrane forth stepping, did them stay
And with faire treaty pacifide their yre;
Then when they were accorded from the fray,
Against that Castles Lord they gan conspire,
To heape on him dew vengeaunce for his hire.
They beene agreed, and to the gates they goe
To burne the same with vnquenchable fire,
And that vncurteous Carle their commune foe
To doe fowle death to die, or wrap in grieuous woe.
Malbecco seeing them resolud in deed
To flame the gates, and hearing them to call
For fire in earnest, ran with fearfull speed,
And to them calling from the castle wall,
Besought them humbly, him to beare with all,
As ignorant of seruants bad abuse,
And slacke attendaunce vnto straungers call,
The knights were willing all things to excuse,
Though nought beleu'd, & entraūce late did not refuse.
They beene ybrought into a comely bowre,
And serud of all things that mote needfull bee;
Yet secretly their [...] did on them lowre,
And welcomde more for feare, then charitee;
But they dissembled, what they did notsee,
And welcomed themselues. Each gan vndight
Their garments wett, and weary armour free,
To dry them selues by Vulcanes flaming light,
And eke their lately bruzed parts to bring in plight.
And eke that straunger knight emongst the rest;
Was for like need enforst to disaray:
Tho whenas vailed was her lofty crest,
Her golden locks, that were in tramells gay
[Page 533]Vpbounden, did them selues adowne display,
And raught vnto her heeles; like sunny beames,
That in a cloud their light did long time stay,
Their vapour vaded, shewe their golden gleames,
And through the [...] aire shoote forth their azure [...].
Shee also [...] her heauy haberieon,
Which the faire feature of her limbs did hyde,
And her well plighted frock, which she did won
To tucke about her short, when she did ryde,
Shee low let fall, that flowd from her lanck syde
Downe to her foot, with carelesse modestee.
Then of them all she plainly was espyde,
To be a woman wight, vnwist to bee,
The fairest woman wight, that euer eie did see.
Like as Bellona, being late returnd
From slaughter of the Giaunts conquered;
Where proud Encelade, whose wide nosethrils burnd
With breathed flames, like to a furnace redd,
Transfixed with her speare, downe tombled dedd
From top of Hemus, by him heaped hye;
Hath loosd her helmet from her lofty hedd,
And her Gorgonian shield gins to vntye
From her lefte arme, to rest in glorious victorye.
Which whenas they beheld, they smitten were
With great amazement of so wondrous sight,
And each on other, and they all on her
Stood gazing, as if suddein great affright
Had them surprizd. At last auizing right,
Her goodly personage and glorious hew,
Which they so much mistooke, they tooke delight
In their first error, and yett still anew
With wonder of her beauty [...] their hongry vew.
Yet note their hongry vew be satisfide,
But seeing still the more desir'd to see,
And euer firmely fixed did abide
In contemplation of diuinitee:
But most they meruaild at her cheualree,
And noble prowesse, which they had approu'd,
That much they faynd to know, who she mote bee;
Yet none of all them her thereof amou'd,
Yet euery one her likte, and euery one her lou'd.
And Paridell though partly discontent
With his late fall, and fowle indignity,
Yet was soone wonne his malice to relent,
Through gratious regard of her faire eye,
And knightly worth, which he too late did try,
Yet tried did adore. Supper was dight;
Then they Malbecco prayd of courtesy,
That of his lady they might haue the sight,
And company at meat, to doe them more delight.
But he to shifte their curious request,
Gan causen, why she could not come in place;
Her crased helth, her late recourse to rest,
And humid euening ill for sicke folkes cace,
But none of those excuses could take place;
Ne would they eate, till she in presence came.
Shee came in presence with right comely, grace,
And fairely them saluted, as became,
And shewd her selfe in all a gentle courteous Dame.
They sate to meat, and Satyrane his chaunce,
Was her before, and Paridell beside;
But he him selfe sate looking still askaunce,
Gainst Britomart, and euer closely eide
[Page 535]Sir Satyrane, with glaunces might not glide:
But his blinde eie, that sided Paridell,
All his demeasnure from his sight did hide:
On her faire face so did he feede his fill,
And sent close messages of loue to her at will.
And euer and anone, when none was ware,
With speaking lookes, that close embassage bore,
He rou'd at her, and told his secret care:
For all that art he learned had of yore.
Ne was she ignoraunt of that leud lore,
But in his eye his meaning wisely redd,
And with the like him aunswerd euermore:
Shee sent at him one fyrie dart, whose hedd
Empoisned was with priuy lust, and gealous dredd.
He from that deadly throw made no defence,
But to the wound his weake heart opened wyde;
The wicked engine through false influence,
Past through his eies, and secretly did glyde
Into his heart, which it did sorely gryde.
But nothing new to him was that same paine,
Ne paine at all; for he so ofte had tryde
The powre thereof, and lou'd so oft in vaine,
That thing of course he counted, loue to entertaine.
Thenceforth to her he sought to intimate
His inward griefe, by meanes to him well knowne,
Now Bacchus sruit out of the siluer plate
He on the table dasht, as ouerthrowne,
Or of the fruitfull liquor ouerflowne,
And by the dauncing bubbles did diuine,
Or therein write to lett his loue be showne;
Which well she redd out of the learned line,
A sacrament prophane in mistery of wine.
And when so of his hand the pledge she raught,
The guilty cup she fained to mistake,
And in her lap did shed her idle draught,
Shewing desire her inward flame to slake:
By such close signes they secret way did make
Vnto their wils, and one eies watch escape;
Two eies him needeth, for to watch and wake,
Who louers will deceiue. Thus was the ape,
By their faire handling, put into Malbeccoes cape.
Now when of meats and drinks they had their fill,
Purpose was moued by that gentle Dame,
Vnto those knights aduenturous, to tell
Of deeds of armes, which vnto them became,
And euery one his kindred, and his name.
Then Paridell, in whom a kindly pride
Of gratious speach, and skill his words to frame
Abounded, being yglad osso fitte tide
Him to commend to her, thus spake, of al well eide.
Troy, that art now nought, but an idle name,
And in thine ashes buried low dost lie,
Though whilome far much greater then thy fame,
Before that angry Gods, and cruell skie
Vpon thee heapt a direfull destinie,
What boots it boast thy glorious descent,
And fetch from heuen thy great genealogie,
Sith all thy worthie prayses being blent,
Their ofspring hath embaste, and later glory shent.
Most famous Worthy of the world, by whome
That warre was kindled, which did Troy inflame,
And stately towres of Ilion whilome
Brought vnto balefull ruine, was by name
Who through great prowesle and bold hardinesse,
From Lacedaemon fetcht the fayrest Dame,
That euer Greece did boast, or knight possesse,
Whom Venus to him gaue for meed of worthinesse.
Fayre Helene, flowre of beautie excellent,
And girlond of the mighty Conquerours,
That madest many Ladies deare lament
The heauie losse of their braue Paramours,
Which they far off beheld from Troian toures,
And saw the fieldes of faire [...] strowne
With carcases of noble warrioures,
Whose fruitlesse liues were vnder furrow sowne,
And Xanthus sandy bankes with blood all ouerslowne.
From him my linage I deriue aright,
Who long before the ten yeares siege of Troy;
Whiles yet on Ida he a shepeheard hight,
On faire Oenone got a louely boy;
Whom for remembrance of her passed ioy,
She of his Father Parius did name;
Who, after Greekes did Priams realme destroy,
Gathred the Troian reliques sau'd from flame,
And with them sayling thence, to th'Isle of Paros came.
That was by him cald Paros, which before
Hight Nausa, there he many yeares did raine,
And built Nausicle by the Pontick shore,
The which he dying lefte next in remaine
To Paridas his sonne.
From whom I Paridell by kin descend;
But for faire ladies loue, and glories gaine,
My natiue soile haue lefte, my dayes to spend
In seewing deeds of armes, my liues and labors end.
Whenas the noble Britom art heard tell
Of Troian warres, and Priams citie sackt,
The ruefull story of Sir Paridell,
She was empassiond at that piteous act,
With zelous enuy of Greekes cruell fact,
Against that nation, from whose race of old
She heard, that she was lineally extract:
For noble Britons sprong from Troians bold,
And Troynouant was built of old Troyes ashes cold.
Then sighing soft awhile, at last she thus:
O lamentable fall of famous towne,
Which raignd so many yeares victorious,
And of all Asie bore the soueraine crowne,
In one sad night consumd, and throwen downe:
What stony hart, that heares thy haplesse fate,
Is not empierst with deepe compassiowne,
And makes ensample of mans wretched state,
That floures so fresh at morne, & fades at euening late?
Behold, Sir, how your pitifull complaint
Hath fownd another partner of your payne:
For nothing may impresse so deare constraint,
As countries cause, and commune foes disdayne.
But if it should not grieue you, backe agayne
To turne your course, I would to heare desyre,
What to Aeneas fell; sith that men sayne
He was not in the cities wofull fyre
Consum'd, but did him selfe to safety retyre.
Anchyses sonne begott of Venus fayre,
Said he, out of the flames for safegard fled,
And with a remnant did to sea repayre,
Where he through fatall errour long was led
[Page 539]Full many yeares, and weetlesse wandered
From shore to shore, emongst the Lybick sandes,
Ere rest he fownd. Much there he suffered,
And many perilles past in forreine landes,
To faue his people [...] from victours vengefull handes.
At last in Latium he did arryue,
Where he with cruell warre was entertaind
Of th'inland folke, which sought him backe to driue,
Till he with old Latinus was constraind,
To contract wedlock: (so the fates ordaind.)
Wedlocke contract in blood, and eke in blood
Accomplished, that many deare complaind:
The riuall slaine, the victour through the flood
Escaped hardly, hardly praisd his wedlock good.
Yet after all, he victour did suruiue,
And with Latinus did the kingdom. part.
But after, when both nations gan to striue,
Into their names the title to conuart,
His sonne Iülus did from thence depart,
With all the warlike youth of Troians bloud,
And in long Alba plast his throne apart,
Where faire it florished, and long time stoud,
Till Romulus renewing it, to Rome remoud.
There there (said Britomart) a fresh appoard
The glory of the later world to spring,
And Troy againe out of her dust was reard,
To sitt in second seat of soueraine king,
Of all the world vnder her gouerning.
But a third kingdom yet is to arise,
Out of the Troians scattered of spring,
That in all glory and great enterprise,
Both first and second Troy shall dare to equalise.
It Troynouant is hight, that with the waues
Of wealthy Thamis washed is along,
Vpon whose stubborne necks whereat he raues
With roring rage, and sore him selfe does throng,
That all men feare to tempt his billowes strong,
She fastned hath her foot, which standes so hy,
That it a wonder of the world is song
In forreine landes, and all which passen by,
Beholding it from farre, doe thinke it threates the skye.
The Troian Brute did first that citie fownd,
And Hygate made the meare thereof by west,
And Ouert gate by North: that is the bownd
Toward the land; two riuers bownd the rest.
So huge a scope at first him seemed best,
To be the compasse of his kingdomes seat:
So huge a mind could not in lesser rest,
Ne in small meares containe his glory great,
That Albion had conquered first by warlike feat.
Ah fairest Lady knight, (said Paridell)
Pardon I pray my heedlesse ouersight,
Who had forgot, that whylome I hard tell
From aged Mnemon; for my wits beene light.
Indeed he said (if I remember right,)
That of the antique Troian stocke, there grew
Another plant, that raught to wondrous hight,
And far abroad his mightie braunches threw,
Into the [...] Angle of the world he knew.
For that same Brute, whom much he did aduaunce
In all his speach, was Syluius his sonne,
Whom hauing slain, through luckles arrowes glaūce
He fled for feare of that he had misdonne,
[Page 541]Or els for shame, so fowle reproch to shonne,
And with him ledd to sea an youthly trayne,
Where wearie wandring they long time did wonne,
And many fortunes prou'd in th'Ocean mayne,
And great aduētures found, that now were lōg to sayne
At last by fatall course they driuen were
Into an Island spatious and brode,
The furthest North, that did to them appeare:
Which after rest they seeking farre abrode,
Found it the fittest soyle for their abode,
Fruitfull of all thinges fitt for liuing foode,
But wholy waste, and void of peoples trode,
Saue an huge nation of the Geaunts broode,
That fed on liuing flesh, & dronck mens vitall blood.
Whom he through wearie wars and labours long,
Subdewd with losse of many Britons bold:
In which the great Goemagot of strong
Corineus, and Coulin of Debon old
Were ouerthrowne, and laide on th'earth full cold,
Which quaked vnder their so hideous masse,
A famous history to bee enrold
In euerlasting moniments of brasse,
That all the antique Worthies merits far did passe.
His worke great Troynouant, his worke is eke
Faire Lincolne, both renowmed far away,
That who from East to West will endlong seeke,
Cannot two fairer Cities find this day,
Except Cteopolis: so heard I say
Old Mnemon. Therefore Sir, I greet you well
Your countrey kin, and you entyrely pray
Of pardon for the strife, which late befell
Betwixt vs both vnknowne. So ended Paridell.
But all the while, that he these speeches spent,
Vpon his lips hong faire Dame Hellenore,
With vigilant regard, and dew attent,
Fashioning worldes of fancies euermore
In her fraile witt, that now her quite forlore:
The whiles vnwares away her wondring eye,
And greedy eares her weake hart from her bore:
Which he perceiuing, euer priuily
In speaking, many false belgardes at her let fly.
So long these knightes discoursed diuerfly,
Of straunge affaires, and noble hardiment,
Which they had past with mickle ieopardy,
That now the humid night was farforth spent,
And heuenly lampes were halfendeale ybrent:
Which th'old man seeing wel, who too lōg though:
Euery discourse and euery argument,
Which by the houres he measured, besought
Them go to rest. So all vnto their bowres were brought.
Cant. X.
Paridell rapeth Hellenore:
Malbceco her poursewes:
Fynds emongst Satyres, whence with him
To turne she doth refuse.
THe morow next, so soone as Phoebus Lamp
Bewrayed had the world with early light,
And fresh Aurora had the shady damp
Out of the goodly heuen amoued quight,
Vprose, forth on their iourney for to wend:
But Paridell complaynd, that his late fight
With Britomart, so sore did him offend,
That ryde he could not, till his hurts he did amend.
So foorth they far'd, but he behind them stayd,
Maulgre his host, who grudged griuously,
To house a guest, that would be needes obayd,
And of his owne him left not liberty:
Might wanting measure moueth surquedry.
Two things he feared, but the third was death;
That fiers youngmans vnruly maystery;
His money, which he lou'd as liuing breath;
And his faire wife, whom honest long he kept vneath.
But patience perforce he must abie,
What fortune and his fate on him will lay,
Fond is the feare, that findes no remedie;
Yet warily he watcheth euery way,
By which he feareth euill happen may:
So th'euill thinkes by watching to preuent;
Ne doth he suffer her, nor night, nor day,
Out of his sight her selfe once to absent.
So doth he punish her and eke himselfe torment.
But Paridell kept better watch, then hee,
A fit occasion for his turne to finde:
False loue, why do men say, thou canst not see,
And in their foolish fancy feigne thee blinde,
That with thy charmes the sharpest sight doest binde,
And to thy will abuse? Thou walkest free,
And seest euery secret of the minde;
Thou seest all, yet none at all sees thee;
All that is by the working of thy Deitee.
So perfect in that art was Paridell,
That he Malbeccoes halfen eye did wyle,
His halfen eye he wiled wondrous well,
And Hellenors both eyes did eke beguyle,
Both eyes and hart attonce, during the whylc
That he there soiourned his woundes to heale,
That Cupid selfe it seeing, close did smyle,
To weet how he her loue away did steale,
And bad, that none their ioyous treason should reueale.
The learned louer lost no time nor tyde,
That least auantage mote to him afford,
Yet bore so faire a sayle, that none espyde
His secret drift, till he herlayd abord.
When so in open place, and commune bord,
He fortun'd her to meet, with commune speach
He [...] her, yet bayted euery word,
That his vngentle hoste n'ote him appeach
Of vile vngentlenesse, or hospitages breach.
But when apart (if euer her apart)
He found, then his false engins fast he plyde,
And all the fleights vnbosomd in his hart;
He sigh'd, he sobd, he swownd, he perdy dyde,
And cast himselfe on ground her fast besyde:
Tho when againe he him bethought to liue,
He wept, and wayld, and false laments belyde,
Saying, but if she Mercie would him giue
That he mote algates dye, yet did his death forgiue.
And otherwhyles with amorous delights,
And pleasing toyes he would her entertaine,
Now singing sweetly, to surprize her sprights,
Now making layes of loue and louers paine,
[Page 545]Bransles, Ballads, virelayes, and verses vaine;
Oft purposes, oft riddles he deuysd,
And thousands like, which flowed in his braine,
With which he sed her fancy, and entysd
To take with his new loue, and leaue her old despysd.
And euery where he might, and euerie while
He did her seruice dewtifull, and sewd
At hand with humble pride, and pleasing guile,
So closely yet, that none but she it vewd,
Who well perceiued all, and all indewd.
Thus finely did he his false nets dispred,
With which he many weake harts had subdewd,
Of yore, and many had ylike misled:
What wonder then, if she were likewise carried?
No fort so fensible, no wals so strong,
But that continuall battery will riue,
Or daily siege through dispuruayaunce long,
And lacke of reskewes will to parley driue,
And Peece, that vnto parley eare will giue,
Will shortly yield it selfe, and will be made
The vassall of the victors will byliue:
That stratageme had oftentimes assayd
This crafty Paramoure, and now it plaine displayd.
For through his traines he her intrapped hath,
That she her loue and hatt hath wholy sold
To him, without regard of gaine, or scath,
Or care of credite, or of husband old,
Whom she hath vow'd to dub a fayre Cucquold.
Nought wants but time & place, which shortly shee
Deuized hath, and to her lover told,
It pleased well. So well they both agree;
So readie rype to ill, ill wemens counsels bee.
Darke was the Euening, fit for louers stealth,
When chaunst Maelbecco busie be else where,
She to his closet went, where all his wealth
Lay hid: thereof she countlesse summes did reare,
The which she meant away with her to beare;
The rest she fyr'd for sport, or for despight;
As Hellene, when she saw aloft appeare
The Troiane flames, and reach to heuens hight
Did clap her hands, and ioyed at that dolefull sight.
This second Helene, fayre Dame Hcllenore,
The whiles her husband ran with sory haste,
To quench the flames, which she had tyn'd before.
Laught at his foolish labour spent in waste;
And ran into her louers armes right fast;
Where streight embraced, she to him did cry,
And call alowd for helpe, ere helpe were past,
For lo that Guest did beare her forcibly,
And meant to rauish her, that rather had to dy.
The wretched man hearing her call for ayd,
And ready seeing him with her to fly,
In his disquiet mind was much dismayd:
But when againe he backeward cast his eye,
And saw the wicked fire so furiously
Consume his hart, and scorch his Idoles [...],
He was therewith distressed diuersely,
Ne wist he how to turne, nor to what place,
Was neuer wretched man in such a wofull cace.
Ay when to him she [...], to her he turnd,
And left the fire; loue money ouercame:
But when he marked, how his money burnd,
He left his wife; money did loue disclame:
[Page 547]Both was he loth to loose his loued Dame,
And loth to leaue his liefest pelfe behinde,
Yet sith he n'ote saue both, he [...] that same,
Which was the dearest to his dounghill minde,
The God of his desire, the [...] of misers blinde.
Thus whilest all things in troublous vprore were,
And all men busie to suppresse the flame,
The louing couple neede no reskew feare,
But leasure had, and liberty to frame
Their purpost flight, free from all mens reclame;
And Night, the patronesse of loue-stealth fayre,
Gaue them safe conduct, till to end they came:
So beene they gone yfere, a wanton payre
Of louers loosely knit, where list them to repayre.
Soone as the cruell flames yslaked were,
Malbecco seeing, how his losse did lye,
Out of the flames, which he had quencht whylere
Into huge waues of griefe and gealosye
Full deepe emplonged was, and drowned nye,
Twixt inward doole and felonous despight,
He rau'd, he wept, he stampt, he lowd did cry,
And all the passions, that in man may light,
Did him attonce oppresse, and vex his caytiue spright.
Long thus he chawd the cud of inward griefe,
And did consume his gall with anguish sore,
Still when he mused on his late mischiefe,
So still the smart thereof increased more,
And seemd more grieuous, then it was before:
At last when sorrow he saw booted nought,
Ne griefe might not his loue to him restore,
He gan deuise, how her he reskew mought,
Ten thousand wayes he cast in his confused thought.
At last resoluing, like a Pilgrim pore,
To search her forth, where so she might be fond,
And bearing with him treasure in close store,
The rest he leaues in ground: So takes in hond
To seeke her endlong, both by sea and lond.
Long he her sought, he sought her far and nere,
And euery where that he mote vnderstond,
Of knights and ladies any meetings were,
And of eachone he mett, he tidings did inquere.
But all in vaine, his woman was too wise,
Euer to come into his clouch againe,
And hee too simple euer to surprise
The iolly Paridell, for all his paine.
One day, as hee forpassed by the plaine
With weary pace, he far away espide
A couple, seeming well to be his twaine,
Which houed close vnder a forest side,
As if they lay in wait, or els them selues did hide.
Well weened hee, that those the same more bee,
And as he better did their shape auize,
Him seemed more their maner did agree;
For th'one was armed all in warlike wize,
Whom, to be Paridell he did deuize;
And th'other alyclad in garments light,
Discolourd like to womanish disguise,
He did resemble to his lady bright,
And euer his faint hart much earned at the sight.
And euer faine he towards them would goe,
But yet durst not for dread approchen nie,
But stood aloofe, vnweeting what to doe,
Till that prickt forth with loues extremity,
[Page 549]That is the father of fowle gealosy,
[...] closely nearer crept, the truth to weet:
But, as he nigher drew, he easily
Might scerne, that it was not his sweetest sweet,
Ne yet her [...], the partner of his sheet.
But it was scornefull Braggadochio,
That with his seruant Trompart houerd there,
Sith late he fled from his too earnest foe:
Whom such whenas Malbecco spyed clere,
He turned backe, and would haue fled arere;
Till Trompart ronning hastely, him did stay,
And bad before his soueraine Lord appere:
That was him loth, yet durst he not gainesay,
And comming him before, low louted on the lay.
The Boaster at him sternely bent his browe,
As if he could haue kild him with his looke,
That to the ground him meekely made to bowe,
And awfull terror deepe into him strooke,
That euery member of his body quooke.
Said he, thou man of nought, what doest thou here,
[...] furnisht with thy bag and booke,
Where I expected one with shield and spere,
To proue some deeds of armes vpon an equall pere.
The wretched man at his imperious speach,
Was all abasht, and low prostrating, said;
Good Sir, let not my rudenes be no breach
Vnto your patience, ne be ill ypaid;
For I vnwares this way by fortune straid,
A silly Pilgrim driuen to distresse,
That seeke a Lady There he suddein staid,
And did the rest with grieuous sighes suppresse,
While teares stood in his eies, few drops of bitternesse.
What Lady, man? (said Trompart) take good hart,
And tell thy griefe, if any hidden lye;
Was neuer better time to shew thy smart,
Then now, that noble succor is thee by,
That is the whole worlds commune remedy.
That chearful word his weak heart much did cheare,
And with vaine hope his spirits [...] supply,
That bold he sayd, O most redoubted Pere,
Vouchsafe with mild regard a wretches cace to heare.
Then sighing sore, It is not long (saide hee)
Sith I enioyd the gentlest Dame aliue;
Of whom a knight, no knight at all perdee
But shame of all, that doe for honor striue,
By treacherous deceipt did me [...];
Through open outrage he her bore away,
And with fowle force vnto his will did driue,
Which al good knights, that armes do bear this day,
Are bownd for to reuenge, and punish if they may:
And you most noble Lord, that can and dare
Redresse the wrong of miserable wight,
Cannot employ your most victorious speare
In better quarell, then defence of right,
And for a Lady gainst a faithlesse knight,
So shall your glory bee aduaunced much,
And all faire Ladies magnify your might,
And [...] selfe, albee I simple such,
Your worthy paine shall wel reward with guerdon rich.
With that out of his bouget forth he drew
Great store of treasure, therewith him to tempt;
But he on it lookt [...] askew,
As much [...] to be so misdempt,
[Page 551]Or a war-monger to be basely nempt;
And sayd, thy offers base I greatly loth,
And eke thy words vncourteous and vnkempt;
I tread in dust thee and thy money both,
That, were it not for shame, So turned from him wroth.
But [...], that his [...] humor knew,
In lofty looks to hide an humble minde,
Was inly tickled with that golden vew,
And in his eare him rownded close behinde:
Yet stoupt he not, but lay still in the winde,
Waiting aduauntage on the pray to sease;
Till Trompart lowly to the grownd inclinde,
Besought him his great corage to appease,
And pardon simple man, that rash did him displease.
Big looking like a doughty Doucepere,
At last he thus, Thou clod of vilest clay,
I pardon yield, and that with rudenes beare;
But weete henceforth, that all that golden pray,
And all that els the vaine world vaunten may,
I loath as doung, ne deeme my dew reward:
Fame is my meed, and glory vertuous pray.
But minds of mortal men are muchell mard,
And mou'd amisle with massy mucks vnmeet regard.
And [...], I graunt to thy great misery
Gratious respect, thy wife shall backe be sent,
And that vile knight, who euer that he bee,
Which hath thy lady rest, and knighthood shent,
By Sanglamort my sword, whose deadly dent
The blood hath of so many thousands shedd,
I sweare, ere long shall dearly it repent;
Ne he twixt heuen and earth shall hide his hedd,
But soone he shalbe fownd, and shortly doen be dedd.
The foolish man thereat woxe wondrous blith,
As if the word so spoken, were halfe donne,
And humbly thanked him a thousand sith,
That had from death to life him newly wonne.
Tho forth the Boaster marching, braue begonne
His stolen steed to thunder furiously,
As if he heauen and hell would oueronne,
And all the world confound with cruelty,
That much Malbecco ioyed in his iollity.
Thus long they three together traueiled,
Through many a wood, and many an vncouth way,
To seeke his wife, that was far wandered:
But those two sought nought, but the present pray,
To weete the treasure, which he did bewray,
On which their eies and harts were wholly sett,
With purpose, how they might it best betray,
For sith the howre, that first he did them lett
The same behold, therwith their keene desires were whett.
It fortuned as they together far'd,
They spide, where Paridell came pricking fast
Vpon the plaine, the which him selfe prepar'd
To giust with that braue straunger knight a cast,
As on aduenture by the way he past:
Alone he rode without his Paragone;
For hauing filcht her bells, her vp he cast
To the wide world, and let her fly alone,
He nould be clogd. So had he serued many one.
The gentle Lady. loose at randon lefte,
The greene-wood long did walke, and wander wide
At wilde aduenture, like a forlorne wefte,
Till on a day the Satyres her espide
[Page 553]Straying alone withouten groome or guide;
Her vp they tooke, and with them home her ledd,
With them as house wife euer to abide,
To milk their gotes, and make them cheese & bredd,
And euery one as commune good her handeled.
That shortly she [...] has forgott,
And eke Sir [...], all were he deare;
Who from her went to seeke another lott,
And now by fortune was arriued here,
Where those two guilers with Malbecco were:
Soone as the oldman saw Sir Paridell,
He fainted, and was almost dead with feare,
Ne word he had to speake, his griefe to tell,
But to him louted low, and greeted goodly well.
And after asked him for Hellenore,
I take no keepe of her (sayd Paridell)
She wonneth in the forrest there before.
So forth he rode, as his aduenture fell;
The whiles the Boaster from his loftie sell
Faynd to alight, something amisse to mend;
But the fresh Swayne would not his leasure dwell,
But went his way; whom when he passed kend,
He vp remounted light, and after faind to wend.
Per dy nay (said Malbecco) shall ye not:
But let him passe as lightly, as he came:
For litle good of him is to be got,
And mickle perill to bee put to shame.
But let vs goe to seeke my dearest Dame,
Whom he hath left in yonder forest wyld:
For [...] her safety in great doubt I ame,
Least saluage beastes her person haue despoyld:
Then all the world is lost, and we in vaine haue toyld.
They all agree, and forward them addrest:
Ah but (said crafty Trompart) weete ye well,
That yonder in that faithfull wildernesse
Huge monsters haunt, and many dangers dwell;
Dragons, and Minotaures, and feendes of hell,
And many wilde woodmen, which robbe & rend
All traueilers; therefore aduise ye well,
Before ye enterprise that way to wend:
One may his iourney bring too soone to euill end.
Malbecco stopt in great astonishment,
And with pale eyes fast fixed on the rest,
Their counsell crau'd, in daunger imminent.
Said Trompart, you that are the most opprest
With burdein of great treasure, I thinke best
Here for to stay in safetie behynd;
My Lord and I will search the wide forest.
That counsell pleased not Malbeccoes mynd;
For he was much afraid, him selfe alone to fynd.
Then is it best (said he) that ye doe leaue
Your treasure here in some security,
Either fast closed in some hollow greaue,
Or buried in the ground from ieopardy,
Till we returne againe in safety:
As for vs two, least doubt of vs ye haue,
Hence farre away we will blyndfolded ly,
Ne priuy bee vnto your treasures graue.
It pleased: so he did. Then they march forward braue.
Now when amid the thickest woodes they were,
They heard a noyse of many bagpipes shrill,
And shrieking Hububs them approching nere,
Which all the forest did with horrour [...]:
[Page 555]That dreadfull sound the [...] hart did thrill,
With such amazment, that in hast he fledd,
Ne euer looked back for good or ill,
And after him eke fearefull Trompart spedd;
The old man could not fly, but fell to ground half dedd.
Yet afterwardes close creeping, as he might,
He in a bush did hyde his fearefull hedd,
The iolly Satyres full of fresh delight,
Came dauncing forth, and with them nimbly ledd
Faire Helenore, with girlonds all bespredd,
Whom their May-lady they had newly made:
She proude of that new honour, which they redd,
And of their louely fellowship full glade,
Daunst liuely, and her face did with a Lawrell shade.
The silly man that in the thickett lay
Saw all this goodly sport, and grieued sore,
Yet durst he not against it doe or say,
But did his hart with bitter thoughts engore,
To see th'vnkindnes of his Hèllenore.
All day they daunced with great lusty hedd,
And with their horned feet the greene gras wore,
The whiles their Gotes vpon the brouzes fedd.
Till drouping Phoebus gan to hyde his golden hedd.
Tho vp they gan their mery pypes to trusse,
And all their goodly heardes did gather rownd,
But euery Satyre first did giue a busse
To Hellenore: so busses did abound.
Now gan the humid vapour shed the grownd.
With perly deaw, and th'Earthes gloomy shade
Did dim the brightnesse of the welkin rownd,
That euery bird and beast awarned made,
To shrowd themselues, whiles sleepe their sences did inuade.
Which when Malbecco saw, out of his bush
Vpon his hands and feete he crept full light,
And like a Gote emongst the Gotes did rush,
That through the helpe of his faire hornes on hight,
And misty dampe of misconceyuing night,
And eke through likenesse of his gotish beard,
He did the better counterfeite aright:
So home he marcht emongst the horned heard,
That none of all the Satyres him espyde or heard.
At night, when all they went to sleepe, he vewd,
Whereas his louely wife emongst them lay,
Embraced of a Satyre rough and rude,
Who all the night did minde his ioyous play:
Nine times he heard him come aloft ere day,
That all his hart with gealosy did swell;
But yet that nights ensample did bewray,
That not for nought his wife them loued so well,
When one so oft a night did ring his matins bell.
So closely as he could, he to them crept,
When wearie of their sport to sleepe they fell,
And to his wife, that now full soundly slept,
He whispered in her eare, and did her tell,
That it was he, which by her side did dwell,
And therefore prayd her wake, to heare him plaine.
As one out of a dreame not waked well,
She turnd her, and returned backe againe:
Yet her for to awake he did the more constraine.
At last with irkesom trouble she abrayd;
And then perceiuing, that it was indeed
Her old Malbecco, which did her vpbrayd,
With loosenesse of her loue, and loathly deed,
[Page 557]She was astonisht with exceeding dreed,
And would haue wakt the Satyre by he r syde;
But he her prayd, for mercy, or for meed,
To saue his life, ne let him be descryde,
But hearken to his lore, and all his counsell hyde.
Tho gan he her perswade, to leaue that lewd
And loathsom life, of God and man abhord,
And home returne, where all should be renewd
With perfect peace, and bandes of fresh accord,
And she receiud againe to bed and bord,
As if no trespas euer had beene donne:
But she it all refused at one word,
And by no meanes would to his will be wonne,
But chose emongst the iolly Satyres still to wonne
He wooed her, till day spring he espyde;
But all in vaine: and then turnd to the heard,
Who butted him with hornes on euery syde,
And trode downe in the durt, where his hore beard
Was fowly dight, and he of death afeard.
Early before the heauens fairest light
Out of the ruddy East was fully reard,
The heardes out of their foldes were loosed quight,
And he emongst the rest crept forth in sory plight.
So soone as he the Prison dore did pas,
He ran as fast, as both his feer could beare,
And neuer looked, who behind him was,
Ne scarsely who before: like as a Beare
That creeping close, amongst the hiues to reare
An hony combe, the wakefull dogs espy,
And him assayling, sore his carkas teare,
That hardly he with life away does fly,
Ne stayes, till safe him selfe he see from ieopardy.
Ne stayd he, till he came vnto the place,
Where late his treasure he entombed had,
Where when he found it not (for Trompart bace
Had it purloyned for his maister bad:)
With extreme fury he became quite mad,
And ran away, ran with him selfe away:
That who so straungely had him seene bestadd,
With vpstart haire, and staring eyes dismay,
From Limbo lake him late escaped sure would say.
High ouer hilles and ouer dales he fledd,
As if the wind him on his winges had borne,
Ne banck nor bush could stay him, when he spedd
His nimble feet, as [...] still on thorne:
Griefe, and despight, and gealofy, and scorne
Did all the way him follow hard behynd,
And he himselfe himselfe loath'd so forlorne,
So shamefully forlorne of womankynd;
That as a Snake, still lurked in his wounded mynd.
Still fled he forward, looking backward still,
Ne stayd his flight, nor fearefull agony,
Till that he came vnto a rocky hill,
Ouer the sea, suspended dreadfully,
That liuing creature it would terrify,
To looke adowne, or vpward to the hight:
From thence he threw him selfe dispiteously,
All desperate of his fore-damned spright,
That seemd no help for him was left in liuing sight.
But through long anguish, and selfe-murdring thought
He was so wasted and forpined quight,
That all his substance was consum'd to nought,
And nothing left, but like an aery Spright,
[Page 559]That on the rockes he fell so flit and light,
That he thereby receiu'd no hurt at all,
But chaunced on a craggy cliff to light;
Whence he with crooked clawes so long did crall,
That àt the last he found a caue with entrance small.
Into the same he creepes, and thenceforth there
Resolu'd to build his balefull mansion,
In [...] darkenes, and continuall feare
Of that rocks fall, which euer and anon
Threates with huge ruine him to fall vpon,
That he dare neuer sleepe, but that one eye
Still ope he keepes for that occasion;
Ne euer rests he in tranquillity,
The roring billowes beat his bowre so boystrously.
Ne euer is he wont on ought to feed,
But todes and frogs, his pasture poysonous,
Which in his cold complexion doe breed
A filthy blood, or humour rancorous,
Matter of doubt and dread suspitious,
That doth with curelesse care consume the hart,
Corrupts the stomacke with gall vitious,
Croscuts the liuer with internall smart,
And doth transfixe the soule with deathes eternall dart.
Yet can he neuer dye, but dying liues,
And doth himselfe with sorrow new sustaine,
That death and life attonce vnto him giues.
And painefull pleasure turnes to pleasing paine.
There dwels he euer, miserable swaine,
Hatefull both to him selfe, and euery wight;
Where he through priuy griefe, and horrour vaine,
Is woxen so deform'd, that he has quight
Forgot he was a man, and Gelosy is hight.
Cant. XI.
Britomart chaceth Ollyphant,
findes Scudamour distrest:
Assayes the house of Busyrane,
where loues spoyles are exprest,
O Hatefull hellish Snake, what furie furst
Brought thee from balefull house of Proserpine,
Where in her bosome she thee long had nurst,
And fostred vp with bitter milke of tine,
Fowle Gealosy, that turnest loue diuine
To ioylesse dread, and mak'st the louing hart
With hatefull thoughts to languish and to pine,
And feed it selfe with selfe-consuming smart?
Of all the passions in the mind thou vilest art.
O let him far be banished away,
And in his stead let Loue for euer dwell,
Sweete Loue, that doth his golding wings embay
In blessed Nectar, and pure Pleasures well,
Vntroubled of vile feare, or [...] fell.
And ye faire Ladies, that your kingdomes make
In th'harts of men, them gouerne wisely well,
And of faire Britomart ensample take,
That was as trew in loue, as Turtle to her make.
Who with Sir Satyrane, as earst ye red,
Forth ryding from Malbeccoes hostlesse hous,
Far off aspyde a young man, the which fled
From an huge Geaunt, that with hideous
[Page 561]And hatefull outrage long him chaced thus;
It was that Ollyphant, the brother deare
Of that Argante vile and vitious,
From whom the Squyre of Dames was reft whylere;
This all as bad as she, and worse, if worse ought were.
For as the sister did in feminine
And filthy lust exceede all woman kinde,
So he surpassed his sex masculine,
In beastly vse all, that I euer finde:
Whom when as Britomart beheld behinde
The fearefull boy so greedily poursew,
She was emmoued in her noble minde,
T'employ her puissaunce to his reskew,
And pricked fiercely forward, where she did him vew.
Ne was Sir Satyrane her far behinde,
But with like fiercenesse did ensew the chace:
Whom when the Gyaunt saw, he soone resinde
His former suit, and from them fled apace;
They after both, and boldly bad him bace,
And each did striue the other to outgoe;
But he them both outran a wondrous space,
For he was long, and swift as any Roe,
And now made better speed, t'escape his feared foe.
It was not Satyrane, whom he did feare,
But Britomart the flowre of chastity;
For he the powre of chaste hands might not beare,
But alwayes did their dread encounter fly:
And now so fast his feet he did apply,
That he has gotten to a forrest neare,
Where he is shrowded in security.
The wood they enter, and search euerie where,
They searched diuersely, so both diuided were.
Fayre Britomart so long him followed,
That she at last came to a fountaine sheare,
By which there lay a knight all wallowed
Vpon the grassy ground, and by him neare
His haberieon, his helmet, and his speare;
A little of his shield was rudely throwne,
On which the winged boy in colours cleare
Depeincted was, full easie to be knowne,
And he thereby, where euer it in field was showne.
His face vpon the grownd did groueling ly,
As if he had beene slombring in the shade,
That the braue Mayd would not for courtesy,
Out of his quiet slomber him abrade,
Nor seeme too suddeinly him to inuade:
Still as she stood, she heard with grieuous throb
Him grone, as if his hart were peeces made,
And with most painefull pangs to sigh and sob,
That pitty did the Virgins hart of patience rob.
At last forth breaking into bitter plaintes
He sayd, O souerayne Lord that sit'st on hye,
And raignst in blis emongst thy blessed Saintes,
How suffrest thou such shamefull cruelty,
So long vnwreaked of thine enimy?
Or hast, thou Lord, of good mens cause no heed?
Or doth thy iustice sleepe, and silently?
What booteth then the good and righteous deed,
If goodnesse find no grace, nor righteousnes no [...]?
If good find grace, and righteousnes reward,
Why then is Amoret in caytiue band,
Sith that more bounteous creature neuer far'd
On foot, vpon the face of liuing land?
[Page 563]Or if that heuenly iustice may withstand
The wrongfull outrage of vnrighteous men,
Why then is Busirane with wicked hand
Suffred, these seuen monethes day in secret den
My Lady and my loue so cruelly to pen?
My Lady and my loue is cruelly pend
In dolefull darkenes from the vew of day,
Whilest deadly torments doe her chast brest rend,
And the sharpe steele doth riue her hart in tway,
All for she Scudamore will not denay.
Yet thou vile man, vile Scudamore art sound,
Ne canst her ay de, ne canst her foe dismay;
Vnworthy wretch to tread vpon the ground,
For whom so faire a Lady feeles so sore a wound.
There an huge heape of singulfes did oppresse
His strugling soule, and swelling throbs empeach
His foltring toung with pangs of drerinesse,
Choking the remnant of his plaintife speach,
As if his dayes were come to their last reach.
Which when she heard, and saw the ghastly fit,
Threatning into his life to make a breach,
Both with great ruth and terrour she was smit,
Fearing least from her cage the wearie soule would flit.
Tho stouping downe she him amoued light;
Who therewith somewhat starting, vp gan looke,
And seeing him behind a stranger knight,
Whereas no liuing creature he mistooke,
With great indignaunce he that sight forsooke,
And downe againe himselfe disdainefully
Abiecting, th'earth with his faire forhead strooke:
Which the bold Virgin seeing, gan apply
Fit medcine to his griefe, and spake thus courtesly.
Ah gentle knight, whose deepe conceiued griefe
Well seemest'exceede the powre of patience,
Yet if that heuenly gracesome good reliefe
You send, submit you to high prouidence,
And euer in your noble hart prepense,
That all the sorrow in the world is lesse,
Then vertues might, and values confidence.
For who nill bide the burden of distresse,
Must not here thinke to liue: for life is wretchednesse.
Therefore, faire Sir, doe comfort to you take,
And freely read, what wicked felon so
Hath outrag'd you, and thrald your gentle make.
Perhaps this hand may helpe to ease your woe,
And wreake your sorrow on your cruell foe,
At least it faire endeuour will apply.
Those feeling words so neare the quicke did goe,
That vp his head he reared easily,
And leaning on his elbowe, these few words [...] fly.
What boots it plaine, that cannot be redrest,
And fow vaine sorrow in a fruitlesse eare,
Sith powre of hand, nor skill of learned brest,
Ne worldly price cannot redeeme my deare,
Out of her thraldome and continuall feare?
For he the tyrant, which her hath in ward
By strong enchauntments and blacke Magicke leare,
Hath in a dungeon deepe her close embard,
And many dreadfull feends hath pointed to her gard.
There he tormenteth her most terribly,
And day and night afflicts with mortall paine,
Because to yield him loue she doth deny,
Once to me yold, not to be yolde againe:
[Page 565]But yet by torture he would her constraine
Loue to conceiue in her disdainfull brest;
Till so she doe, she must in doole remaine,
Ne may by liuing meanes be thence relest:
What boots it then to plaine, that cannot be redrest?
With this sad hersall of his heauy stresse,
The warlike Damzell was empassiond sore,
And sayd, Sir knight, your cause is nothing lesse,
Then is your sorrow, certes if not more;
For nothing so much pitty doth implore,
As gentle Ladyes helplesse misery.
But yet, if please ye listen to my lore,
I will with proofe of last extremity,
Deliuer her fro thence, or with her for you dy.
Ah gentlest knight aliue, (sayd Scudamore)
What huge heroicke magnanimity
Dwells in thy bounteous brest? what couldst thou more,
If shee were thine, and [...] as now am I?
O spare thy happy daies, and them apply
To better boot, but let me die, that ought;
More is more losse: one is enough to dy,
Life is not lost, (said she) for which is bought
Endlesse renowm, that more then death is to be sought.
Thus shee at length persuaded him to rise,
And with [...] wend, to see what new successe
Mote him befall vpon new enterprise:
His armes, which he had vowed to disprofesse,
She gathered vp and did about him dresse,
And his forwandred steed vnto him gott:
So forth they both yfere make their progresse,
And march not past the mountenaunce of a [...],
Till they arriu'd, whereas their purpose they did plott.
There they dismounting, drew their weapons bold
And stoutly came vnto the Castle gate;
Whereas no gate they found, them to withhold,
Nor ward to wait at morne and euening late,
But in the Porch, [...] did them sore amate,
A flaming fire, ymixt with smouldry smoke,
And stinking Sulphure, that with griesly hate
And dreadfull horror did all entraunce choke,
Enforced them their forward footing to reuoke.
Greatly thereat was Britomart dismayd,
Ne in that stownd wist, how her selfe to beare;
For daunger vaine it were to haue assayd
That cruell [...], which all things feare,
Ne none can [...] to [...] neare:
And turning backe to Scudamour, thus sayd;
What monstrous enmity prouoke we [...],
Foolhardy, as the Earthes children, which made
Batteill against the Gods? so we a God inuade.
Daunger without discretion to attempt,
Inglorious and beastlike is: therefore Sir knight,
Aread what course of you is safest dempt.
And how we with our foe may come to fight.
This is (quoth he) the dolorous despight,
Which earst to you I playnd: for neither may
This fire be quencht by any witt or might,
Ne yet by any meanes remou'd away;
So mighty be th'enchaūtments, which the same do stay.
What is there ells, but cease these fruitlesse paines,
And leaue me to my former languishing?
Faire Amorett must dwell in wicked chaines,
And Scudamore here die with sorrowing.
[Page 567]Perdy not so; (saide shee) for shameful thing
Yt were t'abandon noble cheuisaunce,
For shewe of perill, without venturing:
Rather [...] try extremities of chaunce,
Then enterprised praise for dread to disauaunce.
Therewith resolu'd to proue her vtmost might,
Her ample shield she [...] before [...] face,
And her swords point directing forward right,
Assayld the flame, the which eftesoones gaue place,
And did it selfe diuide with equall space,
That through she passed, as a thonder bolt
Perceth the yielding ayre, and doth displace
The soring clouds into sad showres ymolt;
So to her yold the flames, and did their force reuolt.
Whome whenas Scudam our saw past the fire,
Safe and vntoucht, he likewise gan assay,
With greedy will, and enuious desire,
And bad the stubborne flames to yield him way:
But cruell Mulciber would not obay
His threatfull pride, but did the more augment
His mighty rage, and with imperious sway
Him forst (maulgre) his fercenes to relent,
And backe retire, all scorcht and pitifully brent.
With huge impatience he inly swelt,
More for great sorrow, that he could not pas,
Then for the burning torment, which he felt,
That with fell woodnes he effierced was,
And wilfully him throwing on the gras,
Did beat and bounse his head and brestful sore;
The whiles the Championesse now decked has
The vtmost rowme, and past the formest dore,
The vtmost rowme, abounding with all precious store.
For round about, the walls yclothed were
With goodly arras of great maiesty,
Wouen with gold and silke so close and nere,
That the rich metall lurked priuily,
As faining to be hidd from enuious eye;
Yet here, and there, and euery where vnwares
It shewd it selfe, and shone vnwillingly;
Like to a discolourd Snake, whose hidden snares
Through the greene gras his long bright [...] back declares.
And in those Tapets weren fashioned
Many faire pourtraicts, and many a faire feate,
And all of loue, and al of lusty-hed,
As seemed by their semblaunt did entreat;
And eke all Cupids warres they did repeate,
And cruell battailes, which he whilome fought
Gainst all the Gods, to make his empire great;
Besides the huge massacres, which he wrought
On mighty kings and kesars, into thraldome brought.
Therein was writt, how often thondring Ioue
Had felt the point of his hart percing dart,
And leauing heauens kingdome, here did roue
In straunge disguize, to slake his scalding smart;
Now like a Ram, faire Helle to peruart,
Now like a Bull, Europa to withdraw:
Ah, how the fearefull Ladies tender hart
Did liuely seeme to tremble, when she saw
The huge seas vnder her t'obay her seruaunts law.
Soone after that into a golden showre
Him selfe he chaung'd, faire Danaë to vew,
Ant through the roofe of her strong brasen towre
Did raine into her lap an hony dew,
[Page 569]The whiles her foolish garde, that litle knew
Of such deceipt, kept th'yron dore fast bard,
And watcht, that none should enter nor issew;
Vaine was the watch, and bootlesse all the ward,
Whenas the God to golden hew him selfe transfard.
Then was he turnd into a fnowy Swan,
To win faire Leda to his louely trade:
O wondrous skill, and sweet wit of the man,
That her in [...] sleeping made,
From scorching heat her daintie limbes to shade:
Whiles the proud Bird ruffing his fethers wyde,
And brushing his faire brest, did her inuade;
Shee slept, yet twixt her eielids closely spyde,
How towards her he rusht, and smiled at his pryde.
Then shewd it, how the Thebane Semelee
Deceiud of gealous Iuno, did require
To see him in his souerayne maiestee,
Armd with his thunderbolts and lightning fire,
Whens dearely she with death bought her desire.
But faire [...] better match did make,
Ioying his loue in likenes more entire,
Three nights in one, they say, that for her sake
He then did put, her pleasures lenger to partake.
Twise was he seene in soaring Eagles shape,
And with wide winges to beat the buxōme ayre,
Once, when he with Asterie did scape,
Againe, when as the Troiane boy so fayre
He snatcht from Ida hill, and with him bare:
Wondrous delight it was, there to behould,
How the rude Shepheards [...] him did stare,
Trembling through feare, least down he fallen should
And often to him calling, to take surer hould.
In Satyres shape Antiopa he snatcht:
And like a fire, when he Aegin' assayd:
A shepeheard, when [...] he catcht:
And like a Serpent to the Thracian mayd.
Whyles thus on earth great Ioue these pageaunts playd,
The winged boy did thrust into his throne,
And scoffing, thus vnto his mother sayd,
Lo now the heuens obey to me alone,
And take me for their Ioue, whiles Ioue to earth is gone.
And thou, faire Phoebus, in thy colours bright
Wast there enwouen, and the sad distresse,
In which that boy thee plonged, for despight,
That thou bewray'dst his mothers wantonnesse,
When she with Mars was meynt in ioyfulnesse:
For thy he thrild thee with a leaden dart,
To loue faire Daphne, which the loued lesse:
Lesse she thee lou'd, then was thy iust desart,
Yet was thy loue her death, & her death was thy smart.
So louedst thou the lusty Hyacinct,
So louedst thou the faire Coronis deare:
Yet both are of thy haplesse hand extinct,
Yet both in flowres doe liue, and loue thee breare,
The one a Paunce, the other a sweetbeare:
For griefe whereof, ye mote haue liuely seene
The God himselfe rending his golden heare,
And breaking quite his garlond euer greene,
With other signes of sorrow and impatient teene.
Both for those two, and for his owne deare sonne,
The sonne of Climene he did repent,
Who bold to guide the charet of the Sunne,
Himselfe in thousand peeces fondly rent,
[Page 571]And all the world with flashing fire brent:
So like, that all the walles did seeme to flame.
Yet cruell Cupid, not herewith content,
Forst him estsoones to follow other game,
And loue a Shephards daughter for his dearest Dame.
He loued Isse for his dearest Dame,
And for her sake her cattell fedd a while,
And for her sake a cowheard vile became,
The seruant of Admetus cowheard vile,
Whiles that from heauen he suffered exile.
Long were to tell his other louely fitt,
Now like a Lyon, hunting after spoile,
Now like a Hag, now like a faulcon flit:
All which in that faire arras was most liuely writ.
Next vnto him was Neptune pictured,
In his diuine resemblance wondrous lyke:
His face was rugged, and his hoarie hed
Dropped with brackish deaw; his threeforkt Pyke
He stearnly shooke, and there with fierce did stryke
The raging billowes, that on euery syde
They trembling stood, and made a long broad dyke,
That his swift charet might haue passage wyde,
Which foure great Hippodames did draw in temewise tyde.
His seahorses did see ne to snort amayne,
And from their nosethrilles blow the brynie streame,
That made the sparckling waues to smoke agayne,
And flame with gold, but the white fomy creame,
Did shine with siluer, and shoot forth his beame.
The God himselfe did pensiue seeme and sad,
And hong adowne his head, as he did dreame:
For priuy loue his brest empierced had,
Ne ought but deare Bisaltis ay could make him glad.
He loued eke Iphimedia deare,
And Aeolus faire daughter Arne hight,
For whom he turnd him selfe into a Steare,
And fedd on fodder, to beguile her sight.
Also to win Deucalions daughter bright,
He turnd him selfe into a Dolphin fayre;
And like a winged horse he tooke his flight,
To snaky-locke Medusa to repayre,
On whom he got faire Pegasus, that flitteth in the ayre.
Next Saturne was, (but who would euer weene,
That sullein Saturne euer weend to loue?
Yet loue is sullein, and Saturnlike seene,
As he did for Erigone it proue.
That to a Centaure did him selfe transmoue.
So proou'd it eke that gratious God of wine,
When for to compasse Philliras hard loue,
He turnd himselfe into a fruitfull vine,
And into her faire bosome made his grapes decline.
Long were to tell the amorous assayes,
And gentle pangues, with which he maked meeke
The mightie Mars, to learne his wanton playes:
How oft for Venus, and how often eek
For many other Nymphes hesore did shreek,
With womanish teares, and with vnwarlike smarts,
Priuily moystening his horrid cheeke.
There was he painted full of burning dartes,
And many wide woundes launched through his inner partes.
Ne did he spare (so cruell was the Elfe)
His owne deare mother, (ah why should he so?)
Ne did he spare sometime to pricke himselfe,
That he might taste the sweet consuming woe,
[Page 573]Which he had wrought to many others moe.
But to declare the mournfull Tragedyes,
And spoiles, wherewith he all the ground did strow,
More eath to number, with how many eyes
High heuen beholdes sad louers nightly theeueryes.
Kings Queenes, Lords Ladies, knights & Damsels gent
Were heap'd together with the vulgar sort,
And mingled with the raskall rablement,
Without respect of person or of port,
To shew Dan Cupids powre and great effort:
And round about a border was entrayld,
Of broken bowes and-arrowes shiuered short,
And a long bloody riuer through them rayld,
So liuely and so like, that liuing sence it fayld.
And at the vpper end of that faire rowme,
There was an Altar built of pretious stone,
Of passing valew, and of great renowme,
On which there stood an Image all alone,
Of massy gold, which with his owne light shone;
And winges it had with sondry colours dight,
More sondry colours, then the proud Pauone
Beares in his boasted fan, or Iris bright,
When her discolourd bow she spreds through heuen bright.
Blyndfold he was, and in his cruell fist
A mortall bow and arrowes keene did hold,
With which he shot at randon, when him list,
Some headed with sadlead, some with pure gold;
(Ah man beware, how thou those dartes behold)
A wounded Dragon vnder him didly,
Whose hideous tayle his lefte foot did enfold,
And with a shaft was shot through either eye,
That no man forth might draw, ne no man remedye.
And vnderneath his feet was written thus,
Vnto the Victor of the Gods this bee:
And all the people in that ample hous
Did to that image bowe their humble knee,
And oft committed fowle Idolatree.
That wondrous sight faire Britomart amazd,
Ne seeing could her wonder satisfie,
But euermore and more vpon it gazd,
The whiles the passing brightnes her fraile sences dazd.
Tho as she backward cast her busie eye,
To search each secrete of that goodly sted
Ouer the dore thus written she did spye
Bee bold: she oft and oft it ouer-red
Yet could not find what sence it figured:
But what so were therein, or writ or ment,
She was no whit thereby discouraged,
From prosecuting of her first intent,
But forward with bold steps into the next roome went.
Much fayrer, then the former, was that roome,
And richlier by many partes arayd:
For not with arras made in painefull loome,
But with pure gold it all was ouerlayd,
Wrought with wilde Antickes, which their follies playd,
In the rich metall, as they liuing were:
A thousand monstrous formes therein were made,
Such as false loue doth oft vpon him weare,
For loue in thousand mōstrous formes doth oft appeare.
And all about, the glistring walles were hong
With warlike spoiles, and with victorious prayes,
Of mightie Conquerours and Captaines strong,
Which were whilome captiued in their dayes,
[Page 575]To cruell loue, and wrought their owne decayes:
Their swerds & speres were broke, & hauberques rent
And their proud girlonds of tryumphant bayes,
Troden in dust with fury insolent,
To shew the victors might and mercilesse intent.
The warlike Mayd beholding earnestly
The goodly ordinaunce of this rich Place,
Did greatly wonder, ne could satisfy
Her greedy eyes with gazing a long space,
But more she meruaild that no footings [...],
Nor wight appear'd, but wastefull emptinesse,
And solemne silence ouer all that place:
Straunge thing it seem'd, that none was to possesse
So rich purueyaunce, ne them keepe with carefulnesse.
And as she lookt about, she did behold,
How ouer that same dore was likewise writ,
Be bolde, be bolde, and euery where Be bold,
That much she muz'd, yet could not construe it
By any ridling skill, or commune wit.
At last she spyde at that rowmes vpper end,
Another yron dore, on which was writ,
Be not too bold; whereto though she did bend
Her earnest minde, yet wist not what it might intend.
Thus she there wayted vntill euentyde,
Yet liuing creature none she saw appeare:
And now sad shadowes gan the world to hyde
From mortall vew, and wrap in darkenes dreare;
Yet nould she d'off her weary armes, for feare
Of secret daunger, ne let sleepe oppresse
Her heauy eyes with natures burdein deare,
But drew herselfe aside in sickernesse,
And her welpointed wepons did about her dresse.
Cant. XII.
The maske of Cupid, and th'enchanted
Chamber are displayd,
Whence Britomart redeemes faire
Amoret, through charmes decayd.
THo when as chearelesse Nighty coucred had
Fayre heauen with an vniuersall clowd,
That euery wight dismayd with darkenes sad,
In silence and in sleepe themselues did shrowd,
She heard a shrilling Trompet sound alowd,
Signe of nigh battaill, or got victory;
Nought therewith daunted was her courage prowd,
But rather stird to cruell enmity,
Expecting euer, when some foe she might descry.
With that, an hideous storme of winde arose,
With dreadfull thunder and lightning atwixt,
And an earthquake, as if it streight would lose
The worlds foundations from his centre fixt;
A direfull stench of smoke and sulphure mixt
Ensewd, whose noyaunce fild the fearefull sted,
From the fourth howre of night vntill the sixt;
Yet the bold Britonesse was nought ydred,
Though much emmou'd, but stedfast still perseuered.
All suddeinly a stromy whirlwind blew
Throughout the house, that clapped euery dore,
With which that yron wicket open flew,
As it with mighty leuers had bene [...]:
[Page 577]And forth yssewd, as on the readie flore
Of some Theatre, a graue personage,
That in his hand a braunch of laurell bore,
With comely haueour and count'nance [...],
Yclad in costly garments, fit for [...] Stage.
Proceeding to the midst, he stil did stand,
As if in minde he somewhat had to say,
And to the vulgare beckning with his hand,
In signe of silence, as to heare a play,
By liuely actions he gan bewray
Some argument of matter passioned;
Which doen, he backe retyred soft away,
And passing by, his name [...],
Ease, on his robe in golden letters cyphered.
The noble Mayd, still standing all this vewd,
And merueild at his straunge intendiment;
With that a ioyous fellowship issewd
Of Minstrales, making goodly meriment,
With wanton Bardes, and Rymers impudent,
All which together song full chearefully
A lay of loues delight, with sweet concent:
After whom marcht a iolly company,
In manner of a maske, enranged orderly.
The whiles a most delitious harmony,
In full straunge notes was sweetly heard to sound,
That the rare sweetnesse of the melody
The feeble sences wholy did confound,
And the frayle soule in deepe delight nigh drownd:
And when it ceast, shrill trompets lowd did bray,
That their report did far away rebound,
And when they ceast, it gan againe to play,
The whiles the maskers marched forth in trim aray.
The first was Fansy, like a louely Boy,
Of rare aspect, and beautie without peare,
Matchable ether to that ympe of Troy,
Whom Ioue did loue, and chose his cup to beare,
Or that same daintie [...], which was so deare
To great Alcides, that when as he dyde,
He wailed womanlike with many a teare,
And euery word, and euery valley wyde
He fild with Hylas name; the Ny mphes eke Hylas cryde.
His garment nether was of silke nor say,
But paynted plumes, in goodly order dight,
Like as the [...] Indians do aray
Their tawney bodies, in their proudest plight:
As those same plumes, so seemd he vaine and light,
That by his gate might easily appeare;
For still he far'd as dauncing in delight,
And in his hand a windy fan did [...],
That in the ydle ayre he mou'd still here and theare.
And him beside marcht amorous Desyre,
Who seemd of ryper yeares, then th'other Swayne,
Yet was that others swayne this elders syre,
And gaue him being, commune to them twayne:
His garment was disguysed very vayne,
And his embrodered Bonet sat awry;
Twixt both his hands few sparks he close did strayne,
Which still he blew, and kindled busily,
That soone they life conceiu'd, and forth in flames did fly.
Next after him went Doubt, who was yclad
In a discolour'd cote, of straunge disguyse,
That at his [...] a brode Capuccio had,
And sleeues dependaunt Albanese-wyse:
[Page 579]He lookt askew with his mistrustfull eyes,
And nycely trode, as thornes lay in his way
Or that the flore to shrinke he did auyse
And on a broken reed he still did stay,
His feeble steps, which shrunck, when hard thereon he lay.
With him went Daunger, cloth'd in ragged weed,
Made of Beares skin, that him more dreadfull made,
Yet his owne face was dreadfull, ne did need
Straunge horrour, to deforme his griesly shade,
A net in th'one hand, and a rusty blade
In th'other was, this Mischiefe, that mishap;
With th'one his foes he threatned to inuade,
With th'other he his friends ment to enwrap:
For whom he could not kill, he practizd to entrap.
Next him was Feare, all arm'd from top to toe,
Yet thought himselfe not safe enough thereby,
But feard each shadow mouing too or froe,
And his owne armes when glittering he did spy,
Or clashing heard, he fast away did fly,
As ashes pale of hew, and winged heeld;
And euermore on daunger fixt his eye,
Gainst whom he alwayes bent a brasen shield,
Which his right hand vnarmed fearefully did wield.
With him went Hope in rancke, a handsome Mayd,
Of chearefull looke and louely to behold;
In silken samite she was light arayd,
And her fayre lockes were wouen vp in gold;
She alway smyld, and in her hand did hold
An holy water Sprinckle, dipt in deowe,
With which slie sprinckled fauours manifold,
On whom she list, and did great liking sheowe,
Great liking vnto many, but true loue to feowe.
And after them [...], and Suspect
Marcht in one rancke, yet an vnequall paire:
For she was gentle, and of milde aspect,
Courteous to all, and seeming debonaire,
Goodly adorned, and exceeding faire:
Yet was that all but paynted, and pourloynd,
And her bright browes were deckt with borrowed haire:
Her deeds were forged, and her words false coynd,
And alwaies in her hand two clewes of silke she twynd.
But he was fowle, ill fauoured, and grim,
Vnder his eiebrowes looking still askaunce;
And euer as Dissemblaunce laught on him,
He lowrd on her with daungerous eyeglaunce;
Shewing his nature in his countenaunce;
His rolling eies did neuer rest in place,
But walkte each where, for feare of hid mischaunce,
Holding a lattis still before his face,
Through which he stil did peep, as forward he did pace.
Next him went Griefe, and Fury matcht yfere;
Griefe all in sable sorrowfully clad,
Downe hanging his dull head, with heauy chere,
Yet inly being more, then seeming sad:
A paire of Pincers in his hand he had,
With which he pinched people to the hart,
That from thenceforth a wretched life they ladd,
In wilfull languor and consuming smart,
Dying each day with in ward wounds of dolours dart.
But Fury was full ill appareiled,
In rags, that naked nigh she did appeare,
With ghastly looks and dreadfull drerihed;
For from her backe her garments she did teare,
[Page 581]And from her head ofterent her snarled heare:
In her right hand a firebrand shee did tosse
About her head, still roming here and there;
As a dismayed Deare in chace emhost,
Forgetfull of his safety, hath his right way lost.
After them went Displeasure and Pleasaunce,
He looking lompish and full [...] sad,
And hanging downe his heauy countenaunce;
She chearfull fresh and full of ioyaunce glad,
As if no sorrow she ne felt ne dread;
That euill matched paire they seemd to bee:
An angry Waspe th'one in a viall had
Th'other in hers an hony-lady Bee,
Thus marched these six couples forth in faire degree
After all these there marcht a most faire Dame,
Led of two grysie villeins, th'one Despight,
The other cleped Cruelty by name:
She dolefull Lady, like a dreary Spright,
Cald by strong charmes out of eternall night,
Had Deathes owne ymage figurd in her face,
Full of sad signes, fearfull to liuing sight,
Yet in that horror shewd a seemely grace,
And with her feeble feete did moue a comely pace.
Her brest all naked, as [...] yuory,
Without adorne of gold or siluer bright,
Wherewith the Craftesman wonts it beautify,
Of her dew honour was despoyled quight,
And a wide wound therein (O ruefull sight)
Entrenched deep with knyfe accursed keene,
Yet freshly bleeding forth her fainting spright,
(The worke of cruell hand) was to be seene,
That dyde in sanguine red her skin all snowy cle
At that wide orifice her trembling hart
Was drawne forth, and in siluer basin layd,
Quite through transfixed with a deadly dart,
And in her blood yet steeming fresh embayd:
And those two villeins, which her steps vpstayd,
When her weake feete could scarcely her sustaine,
And fading vitall powres gan to fade,
Her forward skill with torture did constraine,
And euermore encreased her consuming paine.
Next after her, the winged God him selfe
Cameriding on a Lion rauenous,
Taught to obay the menage of that Elfe,
That man and beast with powre imperious
Subdeweth to his kingdome tyrannous:
His blindfold eies he bad a while vnbinde,
That his proud spoile of that same dolorous
Faire Dame he might behold in perfect kinde,
Which seene, he much reioyced in his cruell minde.
Of which ful prowd, him selfe vp rearing hye,
He looked round about with sterne disdayne;
And did suruay his goodly company:
And marshalling the euill ordered trayne,
With that the darts which his right did straine,
Full dreadfully he shooke that all did quake,
And clapt on hye his coulourd winges twaine,
That all his many it affraide did make:
Tho blinding him againe, his way he forth did take.
Behinde him was Reproch, Repentaunce, Shame;
Reproch the first, Shame next, Repent behinde:
[...] feeble, sorowfull, and lame:
[...] despightful, carelesse, and vnkinde;
[Page 583] Shame most illfauourd, bestiall, and blinde:
Shame lowrd, Repentaunce sigh'd, Reproch did scould;
Reproch sharpe stings, Repentaunce whips entwinde,
Shame burning brond-yrons in her hand did hold:
All three to each vnlike, yet all made in one mould.
And after them a rude confused rout
Of persons flockt, whose names is hard to read:
Emongst them was sterne Strife, and Anger stout,
Vnquiet Care, and fond Vnthriftyhead,
Lewd Losse of Time,, and Sorrow seeming dead,
Inconstant Chaunge, and false Dislòyalty,
Consuming Riotise, and guilty Dread
Of heauenly vengeaunce, faint Infirmity,
Vile Pouerty, and lastly Death with infamy.
There were full many moe like maladies,
Whose names and natures I note readen well;
So many moe, as there be phantasies
In wauering wemens witt, that none can tell,
Or paines in loue, or punishments in hell;
All which disguized marcht in masking wise,
About the chamber by the Damozell,
And then returned, hauing marched thrise,
Into the inner rowme, from whence they first did rise.
So soone as they were in, the dore streight way
Fast locked, driuen with that stormy blast,
Which first it opened; nothing did remayne.
Then the braue Maid, which al this while was plast,
In secret shade, and saw both first and last,
Issewed forth, and went vnto the dore,
To enter in, but fownd it locked fast:
It vaine she thought with rigorous vprore
For to efforce, when charmes had closed it afore.
Where force might not auaile, their sleights and art
She cast to vse, both fitt for hard [...];
For thy from that same row me not to depart
Till morrow next, shee did her selfe auize,
When that same Maske againe should forth arize.
The morrowe next appeard [...] ioyous cheare,
Calling men to their daily ezercize,
Then she, as morrow fresh, her selfe did reare
Out of her secret stand, that day for to outweare.
All that day she outwore in wandering,
And gazing on that Chambers ornament,
Till that againe the second euening
Her couered with her sable vestiment,
Wherewith the worlds faire beautie she hath blent:
Then when the second watch was almost past,
That brasen dore flew open, and in went
Bold Britomart, as she had late forecast,
Nether of ydle showes, nor of false charmes aghast.
So soone as she was entred, rownd about
Shee cast [...], to see what was become
Of all those persons, which she saw without:
But lo, they streight were vanisht all and some,
Ne liuing wight she saw in all that roome,
Saue that same woefull Lady, both whose hands
Were bounden fast, that did her ill become,
And her small waste girt rownd with yron bands,
Vnto a brasen pillour, by the which she stands.
And her before the vile Enchaunter sate,
Figuring straunge characters of his art,
With liuing blood he those characters wrate,
Dreadfully dropping from her dying hart,
[Page 585]Seeming transfixed with a cruell dart,
And all perforce to make her him to loue.
Ah who can loue the worker of her smart?
A thousand charmes he formerly did proue;
Yet thousand charmes could not her stedfast hart remoue.
Soone as that virgin knight he saw in place,
His wicked bookes in hast he ouerthrew,
Not [...] his long labours to deface,
And fiercely running to that Lady trew,
A murdrous knife out of his pocket drew,
The which he thought, for villeinous despight,
In her tormented bodie to embrew:
But the stout Damzell to him leaping light,
His cursed hand withheld, and maistered his might.
From her, to whom his fury first he ment,
The wicked weapon rashly he did wrest,
And turning to the next his fell intent.
Vnwares it strooke into her snowie chest,
That litle drops empurpled her faire brest.
Exceeding wroth therewith the virgin grew,
Albe the wound were nothing deepe imprest,
And fiercely forth her mortall blade she drew,
To giue him the reward for such vile outrage dew.
So mightily she smote him, that to ground
He fell halfe dead; next stroke him should haue slaine,
Had not the Lady, which by him stood bound,
[...] vnto him called to abstaine,
From doing him to dy. For else her paine
Should be remedilesse, sith none but hee,
Which wrought it, could the same recure againe.
Therewith she stayd her hand, loth stayd to bee;
For life she him enuyde, and long'd reuenge to see.
And to him said, Thou wicked man, whose meed
For so huge mischiefe, and vile villany
Is death, or if that ought doe death exceed,
Be sure, that nought may saue thee from to dy,
But if that thou this Dame doe presently
Restore vnto her health, and former state;
This doe and liue, els dye vndoubtedly.
He glad of life, that lookt for death but late,
Did yield him selfe right willing to prolong his date.
And rising vp, gan streight to ouerlooke
Those cursed leaues, his charmes back to reuerse;
Full dreadfull thinges out of that balefull booke
He red, and measur'd many a sad verse,
That horrour gan the virgins hart to perse,
And her faire locks vp stared stiffe on end,
Hearing him those same bloody lynes reherse;
And all the while he red, she did extend
Her sword high ouer him, if ought he did offend.
Anon she gan perceiue the house to quake,
And all the dores to rattle round about;
Yet all that did not her dismaied make,
Nor slack her threatfull hand for daungers dout,
But still with stedfast eye and courage stout,
Abode to weet, what end would come of all.
At last that mightie chaine, which round about
Her tender waste was wound, adowne [...] fall,
And that great brasen pillour broke in [...] small.
The cruell steele, which thrild her dying hart,
Fell softly forth, as of his owne accord,
And the wyde wound, which lately did dispart
Her bleeding brest, and riuen bowels gor'd,
[Page 587]Was closed vp, as it had not beene sor'd,
And euery part to safety full sownd,
As she were neuer hurt, was soone restor'd:
Tho when she felt her selfe to be vnbownd,
And perfect hole, prostrate she fell vnto the grownd,
Before faire Britomart, she fell prostrate,
Saying, Ah noble knight, what worthy meede
Can wretched Lady, quitt from wofull state,
Yield you in lieu of this your gracious deed;
Your vertue selfe her owne reward shall breed,
Euen immortall prayse, and glory wyde
Which I your vassall, by your prowesse freed,
Shall through the world make to be notifyde,
And goodly well aduaunce that goodly well was tryde.
But Britomart vprearing her from grownd,
Said, Gentle Dame, reward enough I weene
For many labours more, then I haue found,
This, that in safetie now I haue you seene,
And meane of your deliuerance haue beene:
Henceforth faire Lad comfort to you take,
And put away remembraunce of late teene;
Insted thereof know, that your louing Make,
Hath no lesse griefe endured for your gentle sake.
She much was cheard to heare him mentiond,
Whom of all liuing wightes she loued best.
Then laid the noble Championesse strong hond
Vpon th'enchaunter, which had her distrest
So sore, and with foule outrages opprest:
With that great chaine, wherewith not long ygoe
He bound that pitteous Lady prisoner, now relest,
Himselfe she bound, more worthy to be so,
And captiue with her led to wretchednesse and wo.
Returning back, those goodly rowmes, which erst
He saw so rich and royally arayd,
Now vanisht vtterly, and cleane subuerst
He found, and all their glory quite decayd,
That sight of such a chaunge him much dismayd.
Thenceforth descending to that perlous Porch,
Those dreadfull flames she also found delayd,
And quenched quite, like a consumed torch,
That erst all entrers wont so cruelly to scorch.
At last she came vnto the place, where late
She left Sir Scudamour in great distresse,
Twixt dolour and despight halfe desperate,
Of his loues succour, of his owne redresse,
And of the hardie Britomarts successe:
There on the cold earth him now thrown she found,
In wilfull anguish, and dead heauinesse,
And to him cald; whose voices knowen sound
Soone as he heard, himself he reared light from ground.
There did he see, that most on earth him ioyd,
His dearest loue, the comfort of his dayes,
Whose too long absence him had sore annoyd,
And wearied his life with dull delayes:
Straight he vp started from the loath ed layes,
And to her ran with hasty egernesse,
Like as a Deare, that greedily embayes
In the coole soile, after long thirstinesse,
Which he in chace endured hath, now nigh breathlesse.
Lightly he clipt her twixt his armes twaine,
And streightly did embrace her body bright,
Her body, late the prison of sad paine,
Now the sweet lodge of loue and deare delight:
[Page 589]But she faire Lady ouercommen quight
Of huge affection, did in pleasure melt,
And in sweete rauishment pourd out her spright:
No word they spake, nor earthly thing they felt,
But like two senceles stocks in long embracemēt dwelt.
Had ye them seene, ye would haue surely thought,
That they had beene that faire Hermaphrodite,
Which that rich Romane of white marble wrought,
And in his costly Bath causd to bee site:
So seemd those two, as growne together quite,
That Britomart halfe enuying their blesse,
Was much empassiond in her gentle sprite,
And to her selfe oft wisht like happinesse,
In vaine she wisht, that fate n'ould let her yet possesse.
Thus doe those louers with sweet counteruayle,
Each other of loues bitter fruit despoile.
But now my teme begins to faint and fayle,
All woxen weary of their iournall toyle:
Therefore I will their sweatie yokes assoyle
At this same furrowes end, till a new day:
And ye faire Swayns, after your long turmoyle,
Now cease your worke, and at your pleasure play;
Now cease your worke; to morrow is an holy day.
FINIS.
A Letter of the Authors expounding his whole intention in the course of this worke: which for that it giueth great light to the Reader, for the better vnderstanding is hereunto annexed.
To the Right noble, and Valorous, Sir Walter Raleigh knight, Lo. Wardein of the Stanneryes, and her Maiesties liefetenaunt of the County of Cornewayll.
SIr knowing how doubtfully all Allegories may be construed, and this booke of mine, which I haue entituled the Faery Queene, being a continued Allegory, or darke conceit, I haue thought good aswell for auoyding of gealous opinions and miscō structions, as also for your better light in reading therof, (being so by you cōmanded,) to discouer vnto you the general intention & meaning, which in the whole course thereof I haue fashioned, without expressing of any particular purposes or by accidents therein occasioned. The generall end therefore of all the booke is to fashion a gentleman or noble person in vertuous and gentle discipline: Which for that I conceiued shoulde be most plausible and pleasing, being coloured with an historicall fiction, the which the most part of men delight to read, rather for variety of matter, then for profite of the exsample: I chose the historye of king Arthure, as most fitte for the excellency of his person, being made famous by many mens [Page 592] former workes, and also furthest from the daunger of enuy, and suspition of present time. In which I haue followed all the antique Poets historicall, first Homere, who in the Persons of Agamemnon and Vlysses hath ensampled a good gouernour and a vertuous man, the one in his Ilias, the other in his Odysseis: then Virgil, whose like intention was to doe in the person of Aeneas: after him Ariosto comprised them both in his Orlando: and lately Tasso disseuered them againe, and formed both parts in two persons, namely that part which they in Philosophy call Ethice, or vertues of a priuate man, coloured in his Rinaldo: The other named Politice in his Godfredo. By ensample of which excellente Poets, I labour to pourtraict in Arthure, before he was king, the image of a braue knight, perfected in the twelue priuate morall vertues, as Aristotle hath deuised, the which is the purpose of these first twelue bookes: which if I finde to be well accepted, I may be perhaps encoraged, to frame the other part of polliticke vertues in his person, after that hee came to be king. To some I know this Methode will seeme displeasaunt, which had rather haue good discipline deliuered plainly in way of precepts, or sermoned at large, as they vse, then thus clowdily enwrapped in All goricall deuises. But such, me seeme, should be satisfide with the vse of these dayes, seeing all things accounted by their showes, and nothing esteemed of, that is not delightfull and pleasing to commune sence. For this cause is Xenophon preferred before Plato, for that the one in the exquisite depth of his iudgement, formed a Commune welth such as it should be, but the other in the person of Cyrus and the Persians fashioned a gouernement such as might best be: So much more profitable and gratious is doctrine by ensample, then by rule. So haue I laboured to doe in the person of Arthure: whome I conceiue after his long education by Timon, to whom he was by Merlin deliuered to be brought vp, so soone as he was borne of the Lady Igrayne, to haue seene in a dream or vision the Faery Queen, [Page 593] with whose excellent beauty rauished, he awaking resolued to seeke her out, and so being by Merlin armed, and by Timon throughly instructed, he went to seeke her forth in Faerye land. In that Faery Queene I meane glory in my generall intention, but in my particular I conceiue the most excellent and glorious person of our soueraine the Queene, and her kingdome in Faery land. And yet in some places el, I doe otherwise shadow her. For considering she beareth two persons, the one of a most royall Queene or Empresse, the other of a most vertuous and beautifull Lady, this latter part in some places I doe ezpresse in Belphoebe, fashioning her name according to your owne excellent conceipt of Cynthia, (Phaebe and Cynthia being both names of Diana.) So in the person of Prince Arthure I sette forth magnificence in particular, which vertue for that (according to Aristotle and the rest) it is the perfection of all the rest, and conteineth in it them all, therefore in the whole course I mention the deedes of Arthure app'yable to that vertue, which I write of in that booke. But of the xii. other vertues, I make xii. other knight the patrones, for the more variety of the history: Of which these three bookes contayn three. The first of the knight of the [...], in whome I expresse Holynes: The seconde of [...] Guyon, in whome I sette forth Temperaunce: The third of Britomartis a Lady knight, in whome I picture Chastity. But because the beginning of the whole worke seemeth abrupte and as depending vpon other antecedents, it needs that ye know the occasion of these three knights seuerall aduentures. For the Methode of a Poet historical is not such, as of an Historiographer. For an Historiographer discourseth of affayres orderly as they were donne, accounting as well the times as the actions, but a Poet thrusteth into the middest, euen where it most concerneth him, and there recoursing to the thinges forepaste, and diuining of thinges to come, maketh a pleasing Analysis of all. The beginning therefore of my history, if it were to be told by an Historiographer [Page 594] should be the twelfth booke which is the last, where I deuise that the Faery Queene kept her Annuall feaste xii. dayes, vppon which xii. seuerall dayes, the occasions of the xii. seuerall aduentures hapned, which being vndertaken by xii. seuerall knights, are in these xii books seuerally handled and [...]. The first was this. In the beginning of the feast, there presented him selfe a tall clownishe younge man, who falling before the Queen of Faries desired a boone (as the manner then was) which during that feast she might not refuse: which was that hee might haue the atchieuement of any aduenture, which during that feaste should hap̄pen, that being graunted, he rested him on the floore, vnfitte through his rusticity for a better place. [...] after entred a faire Ladye in mourning weedes, riding on a white Asse, with a dwarfe behind her leading a warlike steed, that bore the Armes of a knight, and his speare in the dwarfes hand. Shee falling before the Queene of Faeries, complayned that her father and mother an ancient King and Queene, had bene by an huge dragon many years shut vp in a brasen Castle, who thence suffred them not to yssew: and therefore besought the Faery Queene to assygne her some one of her knights to take on him that exployt. Presently that clownish person vpstarting, desired that aduenture: whereat the Queene much wondering, and the Lady much gainesaying, yet he earnestly importuned his desire. In the end the Lady told him that vnlesse that armour which she brought, would [...] him (that is the armour of a Christian man specified by Saint Paul v. Ephes.) that he could not succeed in that enterprise, which being forthwith put vpon him with dewe furnitures thereunto, he seemed the goodliest man in al that company, and was well liked of the Lady. And eftesoones taking on him knighthood, and mounting on that straunge Courser, he went forth with her on that aduenture: where beginneth the first booke, vz.
A gentle knight was pricking on the playne. &c.
[Page 595]The second day ther came in a Palmer bearing an Infant with bloody hands, whose Parents he complained to haue bene slayn by an Enchaunteresse called Acrasia: and therfore craued of the Faery Queene, to appoint him some knight, to performe that aduenture, which being assigned to Sir Guyon, he presently went forth with that same Palmer: which is the beginning of the second booke and the whole subiect thereof. The third day there came in, a Groome who complained before the Faery Queene, that a [...] Enchaunter called Busirane had in hand a most faire Lady called Amoretta, whom he kept in most grieuous torment, because she would not yield him the pleasure of her body. Whereupon Sir Scudamour the louer of that Lady presently tooke on him that aduenture. But being vnable to performe it by reason of the hard Enchauntments, after long sorrow, in the end met with Britomartis, who succoured him, and reskewed his loue.
But by occasion hereof, many other aduentures are intermedled, but rather as Accidents, then intendments. As the loue of Britomart, the ouerthrow of Marinell, the misery of Florimell, the vertuousnes of [...], the lasciuiousnes of Hellenora, and many the like.
Thus much Sir, I haue briefly ouerronne to direct your vnderstanding to the wel-head of the History, that from thence gathering the whole intention of the conceit, ye may as in a handfull gripe al the discourse, which otherwise may happily seeme tedious and confused. So humbly crauing the continuaunce of your honorable fauour towards me, and th'eternall establishment of your happines, I humbly take leaue.
23. Ianuary. 1589.
Yours most humbly affectionate. Ed. Spenser.
¶ A Vision vpon this conceipt of the Faery Queene.
ME thought I saw the graue, where Laura lay,
Within that Temple, where the vestall flame
Was wont to burne, and passing by that way,
To see that buried dust of liuing fame,
Whose tumbe faire loue, and fairer vertue kept,
All suddeinly I saw the Faery Queene:
At whose approch the soule of Petrarke wept,
And from thenceforth those graces were not seene.
For they this Queene attended, in whose steed
Obliuion laid him downe on Lauras herse:
Hereat the hardest stones were seene to bleed,
And grones of buried ghostes the heuens did perse.
Where Homers spright did tremble all for griefe,
And curst th'accesse of that celestiall theife.
Another of the fame.
THe prayse of meaner wits this worke like profit brings,
As doth the Cuckoes song delight whē Philumena sings.
If thou hast formed right true vertues face herein:
Vertue her selfe can best discerne, to whom they writen bin.
If thou hast beauty praysd, let her sole lookes diuine
Iudge if ought therein be amis, and mend it by her eine.
If Chastitie want ought, or Temperaunce her dew,
Behold her Princely mind aright, and write thy Queene anew.
Meane while she shall perceiue, how far her vertues sore
Aboue the reach [...] that liue, or such as wrote of yore:
And thereby will excuse and fauour thy good will:
Whose vertue can not be exprest, but by an Angels quill.
Of me no lines are lou'd, nor letters are of price,
Of all which speak our English tongue, but those of thy deuice.
W. R.
To the learned Shepeheard.
COllyn I see by thy new taken taske,
some sacred fury hath enricht thy braynes,
That leades thy muse in haughty verse to maske,
and loath the layes that longs to lowly swaynes.
That lifts thy notes from Shepheardes vnto kinges,
So like the liuely Larke that mounting singes.
Thy louely Rosolinde seemes now forlorne,
and all thy gentle flockes forgotten quight,
Thy chaunged hart now holdes thy pypes in scorne,
those prety pypes that did thy mates delight.
Those trusty mates, that loued thee so well,
Whom thou gau'st mirth: as they gaue thee the bell.
Yet as thou earst with thy sweete roundelayes,
didst stirre to glee our laddes in homely bowers:
So moughtst thou now in these refyned layes,
delight the daintie eares of higher powers.
And so mought they in their deepe skanning skill
Alow and grace our Collyns flowing quyll.
And fare befall that Faery Queene of thine,
in whose faire eyes loue linckt with vertue sittes:
Enfusing by those bewties fyers deuyne,
such high conceites into thy humble wittes,
As raised hath poore pastors oaten reede,
From rustick tunes, to chaunt heroique deedes.
So mought thy Redcrosse knight with happy hand
victorious be in that faire Ilands right:
Which thou dost vayle in Type of Faery land
Elyzas blessed field, that Albion hight.
That shieldes her friendes, and warres her mightie foes,
Yet still with people, peace, and plentie flowes.
But (iolly shepeheard) though with pleasing style,
thou feast the humour of the Courtly trayne:
Let not conceipt thy setled sence beguile,
ne daunted be through enuy or disdaine.
Subiect thy dome to her Empyring spright,
From whence thy Muse, and all the world takes light.
Hobynoll.
FAyre Thamis streame, that from Ludds stately towne,
Runst paying tribute to the Ocean seas,
Let all thy Nymphes and Syrens of renowne
Besilent, whyle this Bryttane Orpheus playes:
Nere thy sweet bankes, there liues that sacred crowne,
Whose hand strowes Palme and neuer-dying bayes,
Let all at once, with thy soft murmuring sowne
Present her with this worthy Poets prayes.
For he hath taught hye drifts in shepeherdes weedes,
And deepe conceites now singes in Faeries deedes.
R. S.
GRaue Muses march in triumph and with prayses,
Our Goddesse here hath giuen you leaue to land:
And biddes this rare dispensor of your graces
Bow downe his brow vnto her sacred hand.
Desertes findes dew in that most princely doome,
In whose sweete brest are all the Muses bredde:
So did that great Augustus erst in Roome
With leaues of fame adorne his Poets hedde.
Faire be the guerdon of your Faery Queene,
Euen of the fairest that the world hath seene.
H. B.
VVHen stout Achilles heard of Helens rape
And what reuenge the States of Greece deuisd:
Thinking by sleight the fatall warres to scape,
In womans weedes him selfe he then disguisde:
But this deuise Vlysses soone did spy,
And brought him forth, the chaunce of warre to try.
When Spencer saw the fame was spredd so large,
Through Faery land of their renowned Queene:
Loth that his Muse should take so great a charge,
As in such haughty matter to be seene,
To seeme a shepeheard then he made his choice,
But Sydney heard him sing, and knew his voice.
And as Vlysses brought faire Thetis sonne
From his retyred life to menage armes:
So Spencer was by Sidneys speaches wonne,
To blaze her fame not fearing future harmes:
For well he knew, his Muse would soone be tyred
In her high praise, that all the world admired.
Yet as Achilles in those warlike srayes,
Did win the palme from all the Grecian Peeres:
So Spencer now to his immortall prayse,
Hath wonne the Laurell quite from all his seres.
What though his taske exceed a humaine witt,
He is excus'd, sith Sidney thought it fitt.
W. L.
To looke vpon a worke of rare deuise
The which a workman setteth out to view,
And not to yield it the deserued prise,
That vnto such a workmanship is dew.
Doth either proue the iudgement to be naught
Or els doth shew amind with enuy fraught.
To labour to commend a peece of worke,
Which no man goes about to discommend,
Would raise [...] that there did [...],
Some secret doubt, whereto the prayse did tend.
For when men know the goodnes of the wyne,
T'is needlesse for the hoast to haue a sygne.
Thus then to shew my iudgement to be such
As can discerne of colours [...], and white,
As alls to free my minde from [...] tuch,
That neuer giues to any man his right,
I here [...] this workmanship is such,
As that no pen can set it forth too much.
And thus I hang a garland at the dore,
Not for to shew the goodnes of the ware:
But such hath beene the [...] hereto fore,
And customes very hardly broken are.
And when your tast shall tell you this is trew,
Then looke you giue your hoast his vtmost dew.
Ignoto.
To the right honourable Sir Christopher Hatton, Lord high Chauncelor of England &c.
THose prudent heads, that with theire counsels wise
Whylom the Pillours of th' earth did sustaine,
And taught ambitious Rome to [...],
And in the neck of all the world to rayne,
Oft from those graue affaires were wont abstaine,
With the sweet Lady Muses for to play:
So Ennius the elder Africane,
So Maro oft did Caesars cares allay.
So you great Lord, that with your counsell sway
The burdeine of this kingdom mightily,
With like delightes sometimes may eke delay,
The rugged brow of carefull Policy:
And to these ydle rymes lend litle space,
Which for their titles sake may find more grace.
To the most honourable and excellent Lo. the Earle of Essex. Great Maister of the Horse to her Highnesse, and knight of the Noble order of the Garter. &c.
MAgnificke Lord, whose vertues exellent
Doe merit a most famous Poets witt,
To be thy liuing praises instrument,
Yet doe not sdeigne, to let thy name be writt
In this base Poeme, for thee far vnfitt.
Nought is thy worth disparaged thereby,
But when my Muse, whose fethers nothing [...]
Doe yet but flagg, and lowly learne to fly
With bolder wing shall dare alofte to [...]
To the last praises of this Faery Queene,
Then shall it make more famous memory
Of thine Heroicke parts, such as they beene:
Till then vouch safe thy noble countenaunce,
To these first labours needed furtheraunce,
To the right Honourable the Earle of Oxenford, Lord high Chamberlayne of England. &c.
REceiue most Noble Lord in gentle gree,
The vnripe fruit of an vnready wit:
Which by thy countenaunce doth craue to bee
Defended from foule Enuies poisnous bit.
Which so to doe may thee right well besit,
Sith th'antique glory of thine auncestry
Vnder a shady vele is therein writ,
And eke thine owne long liuing memory,
Succeeding them in true nobility:
And also for the loue, which thou doest beare
To th'Heliconian ymps, and they to thee,
They vnto thee, and thou to them most deare:
Deare as thou art vnto thy selfe, so loue
That loues & honours thee, as doth behoue.
To the right honourable the Earle of Northumberland.
THe sacred Muses haue made alwaies clame
To be the Nourses of nobility,
And Registres of euerlasting fame,
To all that armes professe and cheualry.
Then by like right the noble Progeny,
Which them succeed in fame and worth, are tyde
T'embrace the seruice of sweete Poetry,
By whose endeuours they are glorifide,
And eke from all, of whom it is enuide,
To patronize the authour of their praise,
Which giues them life, that els would soone haue dide,
And crownes their ashes with immortall baies.
To thee therefore right noble Lord I send
This present of my paines, it to defend.
To the right Honourable the Earle of Ormond and Ossory.
REceiue most noble Lord a simple taste
Of the wilde fruit, which saluage soyl hath bred,
Which being through long wars left almost waste,
With brutish barbarisme is ouerspredd:
And in so faire a land, as may be redd,
Not one Parnassus, nor one Helicone
Left for sweete Muses to be harboured,
But where thy selfe hast thy braue mansione;
There in deede dwel faire Graces many one.
And gentle Nymphes, delights of learned wits,
And in thy person without Paragone
All goodly bountie and true honour sits,
Such therefore, as that wasted soyl doth yield,
Receiue dear Lord in worth, the fruit of barren field.
To the right honourable the Lo. Ch. Howard, Lo. high Admiral of England, knight of the noble order of the Garter, and one of her Maiesties priuie Counsel. &c.
ANdye, braue Lord, whose goodly personage,
And noble deeds each other garnishing,
Make you ensample to the present age,
Of th'old Heroes, whose famous ofspring
The antique Poets wont so much to sing,
In this same Pageaunt haue a worthy place,
Sith those huge castles of Castilian king,
That vainly threatned kingdomes to displace,
Like flying doues ye did before you chace;
And that proud people woxen insolent
Through many victories, didst first deface:
Thy praises euer lasting monument
Is in this verse engrauen semblably,
That it may liue to all posterity.
To the most renowmed and valiant Lord, the Lord Grey of Wilton, knight of the Noble order of the Garter, &c.
MOst Noble Lord the pillor of my life,
And Patrone of my Muses pupillage,
Through whose large bountie poured on me rife,
In the first season of my feeble age,
I now doe liue, bound yours by vassalage:
Sith nothing euer may redeeme, nor reaue
Out of your endlesse debt so sure a gage,
Vouchsafe in worth this small guift to receaue,
Which in your noble hands for pledge I leaue,
Of all the rest, that I am tyde t'account:
Rude rymes, the which a rustick Muse did weaue
In sauadge soyle, far from Parnasso mount,
And roughly wrought in an vnlearned Loome:
The which vouchsafe dear Lord your fauorable doome.
To the right noble and valorous knight, Sir Walter Raleigh, Lo. Wardein of the Stanneryes, and liefenaunt of Cornewaile.
TO thee that art the sommers Nightingale,
Thy soueraine Goddesses most deare delight,
Why doe I send this rusticke Madrigale,
That may thy tunefull eare vnseason quite?
Thou onely fit this Argument to write,
In whose high thoughts Pleasure hath built her bowre,
And dainty loue learned sweetly to endite.
My rimes I know vnsauory and sowre,
To tast the streames, that like a golden showre
Flow from thy fruitfull head, of thy loues praise,
Fitter perhaps to thonder Martiall stowre,
When so thee list thy lofty Muse to raise:
Yet till that thou thy Poeme wilt make knowne,
Let thy faire Cinthias praises bee thus rudely showne.
To the most vertuous, and beautifull Lady, the Lady Carew.
NE may I, without blot of endlesse blame,
You fairest Lady leaue out of this place,
But with remembraunce of your gracious name,
Where with that courtly garlond most ye grace,
And deck the world, adorne these verses base:
Not that these few lines can in them comprise
Those glorious ornaments of heuenly grace,
Wherewith ye triumph ouer feeble eyes,
And in subdued harts do tyranyse:
For thereunto doth need a golden quill,
And siluer leaues, them rightly to deuise,
But to make humble present of good will:
Which whenas timely meanes it purchase may,
In ampler wise it selfe will forth display.
E. S.
To all the gratious and beautifull Ladies in the Court.
THe Chian Peincter, when he was requirde
To pourtraict Venus in her perfect hew,
To make his worke more absolute, desird
Of all the fairest Maides to haue the vew.
Much more me needs to draw the semblant trew,
Of beauties Queene, the worlds sole wonderment,
To sharpe my sence with sundry beauties vew,
And steale from each some part of ornament.
If all the world to seeke I ouerwent,
A fairer crew yet no where could I see,
Then that braue court doth to mine eie present,
That the worlds pride seemes gathered there to bee.
Of each a part I stole by cunning thefte:
Forgiue it me faire Dames, sith lesse ye haue not lefie.
FINIS.
E. S.
Faults escaped in the Print.
Glorius glorîous Page 3. Hardy dele Page 6. ebbe t'auale spring to auale 9. euery euer 14 sighes sights 15, steps stead 19. stands fencelesse stand sencelesse 23. cruelties cruell spies 24. that mounted y mounted 27. tuefull ruefull 28. Then thens 30. Then Thens 30. brighten brightnes 32. The that 43. care case 46. course corse 51. pelpe pelf 52. first fifte 54. of new of my new 50. hurls hurld 60. let leke 70. cliffts cliffs 71. sire fire ibid. renowned renowmed 72. the that 74. it in 75. swifte and cruell fiers and fell 85. steeld steele 98. seene seeme 99. chanst chauft 100. comeronne 101. hand hands 102. that the 104. wist wise 106. murmuring murmur ring 107. sie fye 116. hands bands 119. that the 121. Cleons Timons ibid. at on 122. this his 124. clifts cliffs 129. life imited life is limited 130. be her 139. [...] pretious 150. fame frame 151. it at 155. this his 156. feared scared ib. all as 158. it one 163. talents talants 170. vntayne contayne 175. stayd strayd 180. to t'ibid faine vaine ibid. wo who ibid. Amarons Amazon 186. these thrise 196. place to place 206. make makes 213. First Fast 215. ronght raught 219. vnto greatly 224. did were 226. no not 234. tongue tonge 235. Pyrrhocles Pyrochles 243. embayling emboyling 250. Netmus Nemus 254. man, saw man saw, 270. Hammon Mammon 280. the that 283. the th' 287. fame his cruell 297. pagons Pagans 299. doubly double 300. empieste empierst 303. Horrow harrow ibid. with bowing bowing 306. incedent indecent 307. crownd crowned 312. lenger a time lenger time 313. Dyapase diapase 313. lastery Castory 318. welis well is 322. whom who 326. and thy great and great ibid. gold old ibid. Seuith Scuith 332. her their ibid. Britom Britayne 356. reuiue suruiue ibid. his this 359. this that 362. did doe 363. weiting wayting 364. Materastaes Malecastaes 391. shard mard 399. Not nor 422. Then Them 424. from thearth from of the earth 438. Shee Hee 440. made VVade 466. shee hee stuned stund 500. were nere ibid. right right hand 502. fuccour succour 588. He shc ibid. him her ibid.
To the right [...] Sir Christopher Hatton, Lord high Chauncelor of England. [...]
THose prudent heads, that with theire counsels wise
Whylom the Pillours of th' earth did sustaine,
And taught ambitious Rome to tyrannise,
And in the neck of all the world to rayne,
Oft from those graue affaires were wont [...],
With the sweet Lady Muses for to play:
So Ennius the elder Africane,
So Maro oft did Caesars cares allay.
So you great Lord, that with your counsell sway
he burdeine of this kingdom mightily,
With like delightes sometimes may [...] delay,
The rugged brow of carefull Policy:
And to these ydle rymes lend litle space,
Which for their titles sake may find more grace.
To the right honourable the Lo. Burleigh Lo. high Threasurer of England.
TO you right noble Lord, whose carefull brest.
To menage of most graue affaires is bent,
And on whose mightie shoulders most doth rest
The burdein of this kingdomes gouernement,
As the wide compasse of the firmament,
On Atlas mighty shoulders is vpstayd;
Vnfitly [...] these ydle rimes present,
The labor of lost time, and wit vnstayd:
Yet if their deeper sence be inly wayd,
And the dim [...], with which from comune vew
Their [...] parts are hid, aside be layd.
Pethaps not vaine they may appeare to you.
Such as they be, vouchsafe them, to receaue,
And wipe their faults out of your censure [...].
E. S.
To the right Honourable the Earle of Oxenford, Lord high [...] of England. &c.
REceiue most Noble Lord in gentle gree,
The vnripe fruit of an vnready wit:
Which by thy [...] doth crane to bee
Defended from foule [...] bit.
Which so to doe may [...] right well besit.
Sith th'antique glory of thine auncestry
Vnder a shady vele is therein writ,
And ekethine owne long liuing memory,
Succeeding them in true nobility:
And also for the loue, which thou doest beare
To th' Heliconian ymps, and they to thee,
They vnto thee, and thou to them most deare:
Deare as thou art vnto thy selfe, so loue
That loues & honours thee, as doth behoue.
To the right honourable the Earle of Northumberland.
THe sacred Muses haue made alwaies clame
To be the Nour ses of nobility,
And Registres of euer lasting fame,
To all that armes professe and [...].
Then by like right the noble Progeny,
Which them succeed in fame and worth, are tyde
T'embrace the seruice of sweete Poetry,
By whose endeuours they are glorifide,
And eke from all, of whom it is enuide,
To [...] the authour of their praise,
Which [...] them life, that els would soone haue dide,
And crownes their ashes with immort all baies.
To thee therefore right noble Lord [...] send
This present of my paines, [...] to defend.
To the right honourable the Earle of Cumberland.
REdoubted Lord, in whose corageous mind
The flowre of cheualry now bloosming faire,
Doth promise fruite worthy the noble kind,
Which of their praises haue left you the haire;
To you this humble present I prepare,
For loue of vertue and of Martiall praise,
To which though nobly ye inclined are,
As goodlie well ye shew'd in late assaies,
Yet braue ensample of long passed daies,
In which trew honor yee may fashiond see,
To like desire of honor may ye raise,
And fill your mind with magnanimitee.
Receiue it Lord therefore as it was ment,
For honor of your name and high descent.
E. S.
To the most honourable and excellent Lo. the Earle of Essex. Great Maister of the Horse to her Highnesse, and knight of the Noble order of the Garter. &c.
MAgnificke Lord, whose vertues exellent
Doe merit a most famous Poets witt,
To be thy liuing praises instrument,
Yet doe not sdeigne, to let thy name be writt
In this base Poeme, for thee far vnfitt.
Nought is thy worth disparaged thereby,
But when my Muse, whose fethers nothing [...]
Doe yet but flagg, and lowly learne to fly
With bolder wing shall dare [...] to sty
To the last praises of this Faery Queene,
Then shall it make more famous memory
Of thine Heroicke parts, such as they beene:
Till then vouch safe thy noble count enaunce,
To these first labours needed furtheraunce,
To the right Honourable the Earle of Ormond and Ossory.
REceiue most noble Lord a simple taste
Of the wilde fruit, which saluage soyl hath bred,
Which being through long wars left almost waste,
With brutish barbarisme is ouerspredd:
And in so faire a land, as may be redd,
Not one Parnassus, nor one Helicone
Left for sweete Muses to be harboured,
But where thy selfe hast thy braue mansione,
There in deede [...] welfaire Graces many one.
And gentle Nymphes; delights of learned wits,
And in thy person without Paragone
All goodly bountie and true honour sits,
Such therefore, as that wasted soyl doth yield,
Receiue dear Lord in worth, the fruit of barren field.
To the right honourable the Lo. Ch. Howard, [...]. high Admiral of England, knight of the noble order of the Garter, and one of her Maiesties priuie Counsel. &c.
ANdye, braue Lord, whose goodly personage,
And noble deeds each other garnishing,
Make you ensample to the present age,
Of th'old Heroes, whose famous of spring
The antique Poets wont so much to [...],
In this same Pageaunt haue a worthy place,
Sith those huge castles of Castilian king,
That vainly [...] kingdomes to displace,
Like flying doues ye did before you chace;
And that proud people [...] insolent
Through many [...], didst first deface.
Thy praises euerlasting [...]
Is in this verse engrauen semblably,
That it may liue to all posterity.
To the right honourable the Lord of Hunsdon, high Chamber laine to her Maiesty.
REnowmed Lord, that for your worthinesse
And noble deeds haue your deserued place,
High in the fauour of that Emperesse.
The worlds sole glory and her sexes grace,
Here eke of right haue you a worthie place,
Both for your nearnes to that Faerie Queene,
And for your owne high merit in like cace,
Of which, apparaunt proofe was to be seene,
When that tumultuous rage and fearfull deene
Of Northerne rebels ye did pacify,
And their distoiall powre defaced clene,
The record of enduring memory.
Liue Lord for euer in this lasting verse,
That all posteritie thy honor may reherse.
E. S.
To the most renowmed and valiar [...], the Lord Grey of Wilton, knight of the Noble order of the Garter, &c.
MOst Noble Lord the pillor of my life,
And Patrone of my Muses pupillage,
Through whose large bountie poured on me rife,
In the first season of my feeble age,
I now doe liue, bound yours by vassalage:
Sith nothing euer may redeeme, nor reaue
Out of your endlesse debt so sure a gage,
Vouchsafe in worth this small guift to receaue,
Which in your noble hands for pledge I leaue,
Of all the rest, that I am tyde t'account:
Rude rymes, the which a rustick Muse did weaue
In fauadge soyle, far from Parnasso mount,
And roughly wrought in an vnlearned Loome:
The which vouchsafe dear Lord your fauorable doome
To the right honourable the Lord of Buckhurst, one of her Maisties [...] Counsell.
IN vain I thinke right honourable Lord,
By this rude rime to memorize thy name;
Whose learned Muse hath writ her owne record,
In golden verse, worthy immortal fame:
Thou much more fit (were leasure to the same)
Thy gracious Souerain praises to compile.
And her imperiall Maiestie to frame,
In loftie numbers and heroicke stile.
But sith thou maist not so, giue leaue a while
To baser wit his power therein to spend,
Whose grosse defaults thy daintie pen may file,
And vnaduised ouersights amend.
But euermore vouchsafe it to maintaine
Against vile Zoilus backbitings vaine.
To the right honourable Sir Fr. Walsingham knight, [...] Secretary to her Maiesty, and of her honourable priuy Counsell.
THat Mantuane Poetes incompared spirit,
Whose girland now is set in highest place,
Had not Mecoenas for his worthy merit,
It first aduaunst to great Augustus grace,
Might long perhaps haue lien in silence bace,
Ne bene so much admir'd of later age.
This lowly Muse, that learns like steps to trace,
Flies for like aide vnto your Patronage;
That are the great Mecenas of this age,
As wel to al that ciuil artes professe
As those that are inspird with Martial rage,
And craues protection of her feeblenesse:
Which if ye yield, perhaps ye may her rayse
In bigger tunes to sound your liuing prayse.
E. S.
To the right noble Lord and most valiaunt Captaine, Sir Iohn Norris knight, Lord president of [...],
VVHo euer gaue more honourable prize
To the sweet Muse, then did the Martiall crew;
That their braue deeds she might immortalize
In her shril tromp, and sound their praises dew?
Who then ought more to fauour her, then you
Moste noble Lord, the honor of this age,
And Precedent of all that armes ensue?
Whose warlike prowesse and manly courage,
Tempred with reason and aduizement sage
Hath fild sad Belgicke with victorious spoile,
In Fraunce and Ireland left a famous gage,
And lately shakt the Lusitanian soile.
Sith then each where thou hast dispredd thy fame,
Loue him, that hath eternized your name.
E. S.
To the right noble and valorous knight, Sir Walter Raleigh, Lo. Wardein of the Stanneryes, and lieftenaunt of Cornewaile.
TO thee that art the sommers Nightingale,
Thy soueraine Goddesses most deare delight,
Why doe I send this rusticke Madrigale,
That may thy tunefull eare vnseason quite?
Thou onely fit this Argument to write,
In whose high thoughts Pleasure hath built her bowre,
And dainty loue learnd sweetly to endite.
My rimes I know vnsauory and sowre,
To tast the streames, that like a golden showre
Flow from thy fruitfull bead, of thy loues praise,
Fitter perhaps to thonder Martiall stowre,
When so thee list thy lofty Muse to raise:
Yet till that thou thy Poeme wilt make knowne,
Let thy faire Cinthias praises bee thus rudely showne.
E. S.