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And therefore still on hye

He ouer him did hold his cruell clawes,

Threatning with greedy gripe to do him dye

And rend in peeces with bis rauenous pawes,

If euer he transgrest the fatall Stygian lawes.

28 That houses forme within was rude and strong,

Like an huge caue, hewne out of rocky clift,

From whose rough vaut the ragged breaches hong,

Embost with massy gold of glorious gift,

And with rich metall loaded euery rift,

That heauy mine they did seeme to threat;

And ouer them Arachne high did lift

Her cunning web, and spred her subtile net,

Enwrapped in fowle smoke and clouds more blacke then Iet.

29 Both roofe, and floore, and wals were all of gold,

But ouergrowne with dust and old decay,

And hid in darkenesse, that none could behold

The hew thereof: for vew of chearefull day

Did neuer in that house it selfe display,

But a faint shadow of vncertain 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.

30 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 ground with sculs was scattered,

And dead mens bones, which round about were flong,

Whose liues, it seemed, whilome there were shed,

And their vile carcases now left vnburied.

31 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 eye of man did neuer see before;

Ne euer could within one place be found,

Though all the wealth, which is, or was of yore,

Could gathered be through all the world around,

And that aboue were added to that vnder ground.

32 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 Mammon turning to that warriour, said;

Loe here the worldes blis, loe here the end,

To which all men do ayme, rich to be made:

Such grace now to be happy, is before thee laid.

33 Certes (said he) I n’ill thine offred grace,

Ne to be made so happy do intend:

Another blis before mine eyes I place,

Another happinesse, another end.

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.

34 Thereat the feend his gnashing teeth did grate,

And grieu’d, so long to lacke his greedy 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 whenas Mammon saw his purpose mist,

Him to entrap vnwares another way he wist.

35 Thence forward he him led, 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 fornaces all burning bright;

By euery fornace many feends did bide,

Deformed creatures, horrible in sight,

And euery feend his busie paines applide,

To melt the golden metall, ready to be tride.

36 One with great bellowes gathered filling aire,

And with forst wind the fewell did inflame;

Another did the dying bronds repaire

With yron toungs, and sprinckled oft the same

With liquid waues, fiers Vulcans rage to tame,

Who maistring 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.

37 But when as earthly wight they present saw,

Glistring in armes and battailous aray,

From their whot worke they did themselues withdraw

To wonder at the sight: for till that day,

They neuer creature saw, that came that way.

Their staring eyes sparckling with feruent fire,

And vgly shapes did nigh the man dismay,

That were it not for shame, he would retire,

Till that him thus bespake their soueraigne Lord & sire.

38 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.

39 Suffise it then, thou Money God (quoth hee)

That all thine idle 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 worldlings vile 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 led, him further to entise.

40 He brought him through a darksome narrow strait,

To a broad gate, all built of beaten gold:

The gate was open, but therein did, wait

A sturdy villein, striding stiffe and bold,

As if that highest God defie he would;

In his right hand an yron club he held,

But he himselfe was all of golden mould,

Yet had both life and sence, and well could weld

That cursed weapon, when his cruell foes he queld.

41 Disdayne he called was, and did disdaine

To be so cald, and who so did him call:

Sterne was his looke, and full of stomacke vaine,

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 fit amongst blacke fiendes, then men to haue his place.

42 Soone as those glitterand armes he did espye,

That with their brightnesse made that darknesse 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 withhold,

And counseld him abstaine from perilous fight:

For nothing might abash the villein bold,

Ne mortall steele emperce his miscreated mould.

43 So hauing him with reason pacifide,

And the fiers Carle commaunding to forbeare,

He brought him in. The rowme was large and wide,

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 rayne.

44 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 soueraigne maiestye;

And thereon sat a woman gorgeous gay,

And richly clad in robes of royaltye,

That neuer earthly Prince in such aray

His glory did enhaunce, and pompous pride display.

45 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 heauenly faire in deed and vew

She by creation was, till she did fall;

Thenceforth she sought for helps, to cloke her crime withall

46 There, as in glistring glory she did sit,

She held a great gold chaine ylincked well,

Whose vpper end to highest heauen was knit,

And lower part did reach to lowest Hell;

And all that preace did round about her swell,

To catchen hold of that long chaine, thereby

To clime aloft, and others to excell:

That was Ambition, rash desire to sty,

And euery lincke thereof a step of dignity.

47 Some thought to raise themselues to high degree,

By riches and vnrighteous reward,

Some by close shouldring, some by flatteree;

Others through friends, others for base regard;

And all by wrong wayes for themselues prepard.

Those that were vp themselues, kept others low,

Those that were low themselues, held others hard,

Ne suffred them to rise or greater grow,

But euery one did striue his fellow downe to throw.

48 Which when as Guyon saw, he gan inquire,

What meant that preace about that Ladies throne,

And what she was that did so high aspire.

Him Mammon answered; That goodly one,

Whom all that folke with such contention,

Do flocke about, my deare, my daughter is;

Honour and dignitie from her alone,

Deriued are, and all this worldes blis

For which ye men do striue: few get, but many mis.

49 And faire Philotime she rightly hight,

The fairest wight that wonneth vnder skye,

But that this darksome neather world her light

Doth dim with horrour and deformitie,

Worthy of heauen 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 workes and merites iust.

50 Gramercy Mammon (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 auowd to other Lady late,

That to remoue the same I haue no might:

To chaunge loue causelesse is reproch to warlike knight.

51 Mammon emmoued was with inward wrath;

Yet forcing it to faine, him forth thence led

Through griesly shadowes by a beaten path,

Into a gardin goodly garnished

With hearbs and fruits, whose kinds mote not be red:

Not such, as earth out of her fruitfull woomb

Throwes forth to men, sweet and well sauoured,

But direfull deadly blacke both leafe and bloom,

Fit to adorne the dead, and decke the drery toombe.

52 There moumfull Cypresse grew in greatest store,

And trees of bitter Gall, and Heben sad,

Dead sleeping Poppy, and blacke 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 faire Critias his dearest Belamy.

53 The Gardin of Proserpina this hight;

And in the midst thereof a siluer seat,

With a thicke Arber goodly ouer dight,

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 dispred and body great,

Clothed with leaues, that none the wood mote see

And loaden all with fruit as thicke as it might bee.

54 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;

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 th’Eubœan young man wan

Swift Atalanta, when through craft he her out ran.

55 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 emongst the gods false Ate threw;

For which th’Idœan Ladies disagreed,

Till partiall Paris dempt it Venus dew,

And had of her, faire Helen for his meed,

That many noble Greekes and Troians made to bleed.

56 The warlike Elfe, much wondred at this tree,

So faire 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 waile and weepe.

57 Which to behold, he clomb vp to the banke,

And looking downe, saw many damned wights,

In those sad waues, which direfull deadly stanke,

Plonged continually of cruell Sprights,

That with their pitteous cryes, and yelling shrights,

They made the further shore resounden wide:

Emongst the rest of those same ruefull sights,

One cursed creature, he by chaunce espide,

That drenched lay full deepe, vnder the Garden side.

58 Deepe was he drenched to the vpmost chin,

Yet gaped still, as coueting to drinke

Of the cold liquor, 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 floud from mouth

Did flie abacke, and made him vainely swinke:

The whiles he steru’d with hunger and with drouth

He daily dyde, yet neuer throughly dyen couth.

59 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.

60 Nay, nay, thou greedie Tantalus (quoth he)

Abide the fortune of thy present fate,

And vnto all that liue in high degree,

Ensample be of mind intemperate,

To teach them how to vse their present state.

Then gan the cursed wretch aloud to cry,

Accusing highest Ioue and gods ingrate,

And eke blaspheming heauen bitterly,

As authour of vniustice, there to let him dye.

61 He lookt a little further, and espyde

Another wretch, whose carkasse deepe was drent

Within the riuer, which the same did hyde:

But both his hands most filthy feculent,

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 idle industry.

62 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 die,

And did acquite a murdrer felonous;

The whiles my hands I washt in puritie,

The whiles my soule was soyld with foule iniquitie.

63 Infinite moe, tormented in like paine

He there beheld, too long here to be told:

Ne Mammon would there let him long remaine,

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 fruit of gold,

Ne sittest downe on that same siluer stoole,

To rest thy wearie person, in the shadow coole.

64 All which he did, to doe him deadly fall

In frayle intemperance through sinfull bayt;

To which if he inclined had at all,

That dreadfull feend, which did behind him wayt,

Would him haue rent in thousand peeces strayt:

But he was warie wise in all his way,

And well perceiued his deceiptfull sleight,

Ne suffred lust his safetie to betray;

So goodly did beguile the Guyler of the pray.

65 And now he has so long remained there,

That vitall powres gan wexe both weake and wan,

For want of food, and sleepe, which two vpbeare,

Like mightie pillours, this fraile life of man,

That none without the same enduren can.

For now three dayes of men were full outwrought,

Since he this hardie enterprize began:

For thy great Mammon fairely he besought,

Into the world to guide him backe, as he him brought.

66 The God, though loth, yet was constraind 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 aire into his brest,

As ouercome with too exceeding might,

The life did flit away out of her nest,

And all his senses were with deadly fit opprest.

CANTO VIII

Sir Guyon laid in swowne is by
   Acrates sonnes despoyld,
Whom Arthur soone hath reskewed
   And Paynim brethren foyld.

1 And is there care in heauen? and is there loue

In heauenly spirits to these creatures bace,

That may compassion of their euils moue?

There is: else much more wretched were the cace

Of men, then beasts. But ô 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.

2 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 foule feends to aide vs millitant?

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 heauenly God to men haue such regard?

3 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 suddenly

He heard a voice, that called loud and cleare,

Come hither, come hither, ô come hastily;

That all the fields resounded with the ruefull cry.

4 The Palmer lent his eare 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 shadie delue him brought at last,

Where Mammon earst did sunne his threasury:

There the good Guyon he found slumbring fast

In senselesse dreame; which sight at first him sore aghast.

5 Beside his head there sate a faire young man,

Of wondrous beautie, and of freshest yeares,

Whose tender bud to blossome new began,

And flourish faire aboue his equall peares;

His snowy front curled with golden heares,

Like Phœbus 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 ayerie wayes.

6 Like as Cupido on Idœan hill,

When hauing laid his cruell bow away,

And mortall arrowes, wherewith he doth fill

The world with murdrous spoiles and bloudie 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 their merry glee.

7 Whom when the Palmer saw, abasht he was

Through feare and wonder, that he nought could say,

Till him the child bespoke, Long lackt, alas,

Hath bene thy faithfull aide in hard assay,

Whiles deadly fit thy pupill doth dismay;

Behold this heauie sight, thou reuerend Sire,

But dread of death and dolour doe away;

For life ere long shall to her home retire,

And he that breathlesse seemes, shal corage bold respire.

8 The charge, which God doth vnto me arret,

Of his deare safetie, I to thee commend;

Yet will I not forgoe, ne yet forget

The care thereof my selfe vnto the end,

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 vanisht quite away.

9 The Palmer seeing his left empty place,

And his slow eyes 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.

10 At last he spide, where towards him did pace

Two Paynim knights, all armd as bright as skie,

And them beside an aged Sire did trace,

And farre before a light-foot Page did flie,

That breathed strife and troublous enmitie;

Those were the two sonnes of Acrates old,

Who meeting earst with Archimago slie,

Foreby that idle strond, of him were told,

That he, which earst them combatted, was Guyon bold.

11 Which to auenge on him they dearely vowd,

Where euer that on ground they mote him fynd;

False Archimage prouokt their courage prowd,

And stryfull Atin in their stubborne mynd

Coles of contention and whot vengeance tynd.

Now bene they come, whereas the Palmer sate,

Keeping that slombred corse to him assynd;

Well knew they both his person, sith of late

With him in bloudie armes they rashly did debate.

12 Whom when Pyrochles saw, inflam’d with rage,

That sire he foule bespake, Thou dotard vile,

That with thy brutenesse shendst thy comely age,

Abandone soone, I read, the caitiue spoile

Of that same outcast carkasse, that erewhile

Made it selfe famous through false trechery,

And crownd his coward crest with knightly stile;

Loe where he now inglorious doth lye,

To proue he liued ill, that did thus foully dye.

13 To whom the Palmer fearelesse answered;

Certes, Sir knight, ye bene too much to blame,

Thus for to blot the honour of the dead,

And with foule cowardize his carkasse shame,

Whose liuing hands immortalizd his name.

Vile is the vengeance on the ashes cold,

And enuie base, to barke at sleeping fame:

Was neuer wight, that treason of him told;

Your selfe his prowesse prou’d & found him fiers & bold.

14 Then said Cymochles; Palmer, thou doest dote,

Ne canst of prowesse, ne of knighthood deeme,

Saue as thou seest or hearst. But well I wote,

That of his puissance tryall made extreeme;

Yet gold all is not, that doth golden seeme,

Ne all good knights, that shake well speare and shield:

The worth of all men by their end esteeme,

And then due praise, or due reproch them yield;

Bad therefore I him deeme, that thus lies dead on field.

15 Good or bad (gan his brother fierce reply)

What doe I recke, sith that he dyde entire?

Or what doth his bad death now satisfy

The greedy hunger of reuenging ire,

Sith wrathfull hand wrought not her owne desire?

Yet since no way is left to wreake my spight,

I will him reaue of armes, the victors hire,

And of that shield, more worthy of good knight;

For why should a dead dog be deckt in armour bright?

16 Faire Sir, said then the Palmer suppliaunt,

For knighthoods loue, do not so foule a deed,

Ne blame your honour with so shamefull 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 tomb-blacke steed.

What herce or steede (said he) should he haue dight,

But be entombed in the rauen or the kight?

17 With that, rude hand vpon his shield he laid,

And th’other brother gan his hehne vnlace,

Both fiercely bent to haue him disaraid;

Till that they spide, where towards them did pace

An armed knight, of bold and bounteous grace,

Whose squire bore after him an heben launce,

And couerd shield. Well kend him so farre space

Th’enchaunter by his armes and amenaunce,

When vnder him he saw his Lybian steed to praunce.

18 And to those brethren said, Rise rise by liue,

And vnto battell doe your selues addresse;

For yonder comes the prowest knight aliue,

Prince Arthur, flowre of grace and nobilesse,

That hath to Paynim knights wrought great distresse,

And thousand Sar’zins foully donne to dye.

That word so deepe did in their harts impresse,

That both eftsoones vpstarted furiously,

And gan themselues prepare to battell greedily.

19 But fierce Pyrochles, lacking his owne sword,

The want thereof now greatly gan to plaine,

And Archimage besought, him that afford,

Which he had brought for Braggadocchio vaine.

So would I (said th’enchaunter) glad and faine

Beteeme to you this sword, you to defend,

Or ought that else your honour might maintaine,

But that this weapons powre I well haue kend,

To be contrarie to the worke, which ye intend.

20 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,

Therewith to doen his foes eternall smart.

The metall first he mixt with Medœwart,

That no enchauntment from his dint might saue;

Then it in flames of Aetna wrought apart,

And seuen times dipped in the bitter waue

Of hellish Styx, which hidden vertue to it gaue.

21 The vertue is, that neither steele, nor stone

The stroke thereof from entrance may defend;

Ne euer may be vsed by his fone,

Ne forst his rightfull owner to offend,

Ne euer will it breake, ne euer bend.

Wherefore Morddure it rightfully is hight.

In vaine therefore, Pyrochles, should I lend

The same to thee, against his lord to fight,

For sure it would deceiue thy labour, and thy might

22 Foolish old man, said then the Pagan wroth,

That weenest words or charmes may force withstand:

Soone shalt thou see, and then beleeue for troth,

That I can carue with this inchaunted brond

His Lords owne flesh. Therewith out of his hond

That vertuous steele he rudely snatcht away,

And Guyons shield about his wrest he bond;

So readie dight, fierce battaile to assay,

And match his brother proud in battailous array.

23 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 feete, with sorrowfull demaine

And deadly hew, an armed corse did lye,

In whose dead face he red great magnanimity.

24 Said he then to the Palmer, Reuerend syre,

What great misfortune hath betidd this knight?

Or did his life her fatall date expyre,

Or did he fall by treason, or by fight?

How euer, sure I rew his pitteous plight.

Not one, nor other, (said the Palmer graue)

Hath him befalne, but cloudes of deadly, night

A while his heauie eylids couer’d haue,

And all his senses drowned in deepe senselesse waue.

25 Which, his cruell foes, that stand hereby,

Making aduantage, to reuenge their spight,

Would him disarme, and treaten shamefully,

Vnworthy vsage of redoubted knight.

But you, faire Sir, whose honorable sight

Doth promise hope of helpe, and timely grace,

Mote I beseech to, succour his sad plight,

And by your powre protect his feeble cace.

First praise of knighthood is, foule outrage to deface.

26 Palmer, (said he) no knight so rude, I weene,

As to doen outrage to a sleeping ghost:

Ne was there euer noble courage seene,

That in aduauntage would his puissance bost:

Honour is least, where oddes appeareth most.

May be, that better reason will asswage,

The rash reuengers heat. Words well dispost

Haue secret powre, t’appease inflamed rage:

If not, leaue vnto me thy knights last patonage.

27 Tho turning to those brethren, thus bespoke,

Ye warlike payre, whose valorous great might

It seemes, iust wrongs to vengeance 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 carkasse pardon I entreat,

Whom fortune hath alreadie laid in lowest seat

28 To whom Cymochles said; For what art thou,

That mak’st thy selfe his dayes-man, to prolong

The vengeance prest? Or who shall let me now,

On this vile bodie from to wreake my wrong,

And make his carkasse as the outcast dong?

Why should not that dead carrion satisfie

The guilt, which if he liued had thus long,

His life for due reuenge should deare abie?

The trespasse still doth liue, albe the person die.

29 Indeed (then said the Prince) the euill donne

Dyes not, when breath the bodie first doth leaue,

But from the grandsyre to the Nephewes sonne,

And all his seed the curse doth often cleaue,

Till vengeance 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.

30 Pyrochles gan reply the second time,

And to him said, Now felon sure I read,

How that thou art partaker of his crime:

Therefore by Termagaunt thou shalt be dead.

With that his hand, more sad 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 marke, his Lords life did assure.

31 Yet was the force so furious and so fell,

That horse and man it made to reele aside;

Nath’lesse the Prince would not forsake his sell:

For well of yore he learned had to ride,

But full of anger fiercely to him cride;

False traitour miscreant, thou broken hast

The law of armes, to strike foe vndefide.

But thou thy treasons fruit, T hope, shalt taste

Right sowre, & feele the law, the which thou hast defast

32 With that his balefull speare, he fiercely bent

Against the Pagans brest, and therewith thought

His cursed life out of her lodge haue rent:

But ere the point arriued, where it ought,

That seuen-fold shield, which he from Guyon brought

He cast betwene to ward the bitter stound:

Through all those foldes the steelehead passage wrought

And through his shoulder pierst; wherwith to ground

He groueling fell, all gored in his gushing wound.

33 Which when his brother saw, fraught with great griefe

And wrath, he to him leaped furiously,

And fowly said, By Mahoune, cursed thiefe,

That direfull stroke thou dearely shalt aby.

Then hurling vp his harmefull blade on hye,

Smote him so hugely on his haughtie crest,

That from his saddle forced him to fly:

Else mote it needes downe to his manly brest

Haue cleft his head in twaine, and life thence dispossest.

34 Now was the Prince in daungerous distresse,

Wanting his sword, when he on foot should fight:

His single speare could doe him small redresse,

Against two foes of so exceeding might,

The least of which was match for any knight.

And now the other, whom he earst did daunt,

Had reard himselfe againe to cruell fight,

Three times more furious, and more puissaunt,

Vnmindfull of his wound, of his fate ignoraunt.

35 So both attonce him charge on either side,

With hideous strokes, and importable powre,

That forced him his ground to trauerse wide,

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 double battry doth assaile,

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

36 So stoutly he withstood their strong assay,

Till that at last, when he aduantage spyde,

His poinant speare he thrust with puissant sway

At proud Cymochles, whiles his shield was wyde,

That through his thigh the mortall steele did gryde:

He swaruing with the force, within his flesh

Did breake the launce, and let the head abyde:

Out of the wound the red bloud flowed fresh,

That vnderneath his feet soone made a purple plesh.

37 Horribly then he gan to rage, and rayle,

Cursing his Gods, and himselfe damning deepe:

Als when his brother saw the red bloud 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 sped; yet shall it not thee keepe

From the third brunt of this my fatall brond:

Loe where the dreadfull Death behind thy backe doth stond.

38 With that he strooke, and th’other strooke withall,

That nothing seem’d mote beare so monstrous might:

The one vpon his couered shield did fall,

And glauncing downe would not his owner byte:

But th’other did vpon his troncheon smyte,

Which hewing quite a sunder, further way

It made, and on his hacqueton did lyte,

The which diuiding with importune sway,

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

39 Wyde was the wound, and a large lukewarme flood,

Red as the Rose, thence gushed grieuously;

That when the Paynim spyde the streaming blood,

Gaue him great hart, and hope of victory.

On th’other side, in huge perplexity,

The Prince now stood, hauing his weapon broke;

Nought could he hurt, but still at ward did ly:

Yet with his troncheon he so rudely stroke

Cymochles twise, that twise him forst his foot reuoke.

40 Whom when the Palmer saw in such distresse,

Sir Guyons sword he lightly to him raught,

And said; faire Son, great God thy right hand blesse,

To vse that sword so wisely as it ought.

Glad was the knight, & with fresh courage fraught,

When as againe he armed felt his hond;

Then like a Lion, which hath long time saught

His robbed whelpes, and at the last them fond

Emongst the shepheard swaynes, then wexeth wood & yond.

41 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 Pyrochles many strokes he told;

Eft to Cymochles twise so many fold:

Then backe againe turning his busie hond,

Them both attonce compeld with courage bold,

To yield wide way to his hart-thrilling brond;

And though they both stood stifle, yet could not both with-[stond.

42 As saluage Bull, whom two fierce mastiues bayt,

When rancour doth with rage him once engore,

Forgets with warie ward them to awayt,

But with his dreadfull homes them driues afore,

Or flings aloft, or treads downe in the flore,

Breathing out wrath, and bellowing disdaine,

That all the forrest quakes to heare him rore:

So rag’d Prince Arthur twixt his foemen twaine,

That neither could his mightie puissance sustaine.

43 But euer at Pyrochles when he smit,

Who Guyons shield cast euer him before,

Whereon the Faery Queenes pourtract was writ,

His hand relented, and the stroke forbore,

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.

44 For when Cymochks 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 hauberk stroke the Prince so sore,

That quite disparted all the linked frame,

And pierced to the skin, but bit no more,

Yet made him twise to reele, that neuer moou’d afore.

45 Whereat renfierst with wrath and sharpe regret,

He stroke so hugely with his borrowd blade,

That it empierst the Pagans burganet,

And cleauing the hard steele, did deepe inuade

Into his head, and cruell passage made

Quite through his braine. 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,

46 Which when his german saw, the stony feare,

Ran to his hart, and all his sence dismayd,

Ne thenceforth life ne courage did appeare,

But as a man, whom hellish feends haue frayd,

Long trembling still he stood: at last thus sayd;

Traytour what hast thou doen? how euer may

Thy cursed hand so cruelly haue swayd

Against that knight: Harrow and well away,

After so wicked deed why liu’st thou lenger day?

47 With that all desperate as loathing light,

And with reuenge desiring soone to dye,

Assembling all his force and vtmost might,

With bis owne sword he fierce at him did flye,

And strooke, and foynd, and lasht outrageously,

Withouten reason or regard. Well knew

The Prince, with patience and sufferaunce sly

So hasty heat soone cooled to subdew:

Tho when this breathlesse woxe, that batteil gan renew.

48 As when a windy tempest bloweth hye,

That nothing may withstand his stormy stowre,

The cloudes, as things affrayd, before him flye;

But all so soone as his outrageous powre

Is layd, they fiercely then begin to shoure,

And as in scorne of his spent stormy spight,

Now all attonce their malice forth do poure;

So did Prince Arthur beare himselfe in fight,

And suffred rash Pyrochles wast his idle might.

49 At last when as the Sarazin perceiu’d,

How that straunge sword refusd, to serue his need,

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 ouerthrow and downe him tred:

But him in strength and skill the Prince surpast,

And through his nimble sleight did vnder him down cast.

50 Nought booted it the Paynim then to striue;

For as a Bittur in the Eagles claw,

That may not hope by flight to scape aliue,

Still waites for death with dread and trembling aw;

So he now subiect 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 despisd to dye.

51 But full of Princely bounty and great mind,

The Conquerour nought cared him to slay,

But casting wrongs and all reuenge behind,

More glory thought to giue life, then decay,

And said, 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 wrongs will wipe out of my souenaunce.

52 Foole (said the Pagan) I thy gift defye,

But vse thy fortune, as it doth befall,

And say, that I not ouercome do dye,

But in despight of life, for death do 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.

53 By this Sir Guyon from his traunce awakt,

Life hauing maistered 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 spide, right glad he grew,

And said, 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.

54 But read what wicked hand hath robbed mee

Of my good sword and shield? The Palmer glad,

With so fresh hew vprising him to see,

Him answered; faire 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.

55 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 suffise, to be for meede repayd

Of so great graces, as ye haue me shewd,

But to be euer bound

56 To whom the Infant thus, Faire Sir, what need

Good turnes be counted, as a seruile bond,

To bind their doers, to receiue their meede?

Are not all knights by oath bound, to withstond

Oppressours powre by acmes and puissant hond?

Suffise, that I haue done my dew in place.

So goodly purpose they together fond,

Of kindnesse and of curteous aggrace;

The whiles false Architnage and Atin fled apace.

CANTO IX

The house of Temperance, in which
   doth sober Alma dwell,
Besiegd of many foes, whom straunger
   knightes to flight compell.

1 Of all Gods workes, which do 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 indecent,

Distempred through misrule and passions bace:

It growes a Monster, and incontinent

Doth loose his dignitie and natiue grace.

Behold, who list, both one and other in this place.

2 After the Paynim brethren conquer’d were,

The Briton Prince recou’ring his stolne sword,

And Guyon his lost shield, they both yfere

Forth passed on their way in faire accord,

Till him the Prince with gentle court did bord;

Sir knight, mote I of you this curt’sie 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.

3 Faire Sir (said 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?

But if the beautie of her mind ye knew,

That is her bountie, and imperiall powre,

Thousand times fairer then her mortall hew,

O how great wonder would your thoughts deuoure,

And infinite desire into your spirite poure!

4 She is the mighty Queene of Faerie,

Whose faire retrait I in my shield do beare;

She is the flowre of grace and chastitie,

Throughout the world renowmed far and neare,

My liefe, my liege, my Soueraigne, my deare,

Whose glory shineth as the morning starre,

And with her light the earth enlumines cleare;

Far reach her mercies, and her prayses farre,

As well in state of peace, as puissaunce in warre.

5 Thrise happy man, (said then the Briton knight)

Whom gracious lot, and thy great valiaunce

Haue made thee souldier of that Princesse bright,

Which with her bounty and glad countenance

Doth blesse her seruaunts, and them high aduaunce.

How may straunge knight hope euer to aspire,

By faithfull seruice, and meet amenaunce,

Vnto such blisse? sufficient were that hire

For losse of thousand liues, to dye at her desire.

6 Said Guyon, Noble Lord, what meed so great,

Or grace of earthly Prince so soueraine,

But by your wondrous worth and warlike feat

Ye well may hope, and easely attaine?

But were your will, her sold to entertaine,

And numbred be mongst knights of Maydenhed,

Great guerdon, well I wote, should you remaine,

And in her fauour high be reckoned,

As Arthegall, and Sophy now beene honored.

7 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 all my powre and might.

Now hath the Sunne with his lamp-burning light,

Walkt round about the world, and I no lesse,

Sith of that Goddesse I haue sought the sight,

Yet no where can her find: such happinesse

Heauen doth to me enuy, and fortune fauourlesse.

8 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 else delaid

With hard aduenture, which I haue in hand,

I labour would to guide you through all Faery land.

9 Gramercy Sir (said he) but mote I weete,

What straunge aduenture do ye now pursew?

Perhaps my succour, or aduizement 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.

10 And now faire Phœbus gan decline in hast

His weary wagon to the Westerne vale,

Whenas they spide a goodly castle, plast

Foreby a riuer in a pleasaunt dale,

Which choosing for that euenings hospitale,

They thither 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.

11 Which when they saw, they weened fowle reproch

Was to them doen, their entrance to forstall,

Till that the Squire gan nigher 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 entrance did desire.

12 Fly, fly, good knights, (said he) fly fast away

If that your liues ye loue, 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.

13 Thus as he spoke, loe with outragious cry

A thousand villeins round about them swarmd

Out of the rockes and caues adioyning nye,

Vile caytiue wretches, ragged, rude, deformd,

All threatning death, all in straunge manner armd,

Some with vnweldy clubs, some with long speares,

Some rusty kniues, some staues in fire warmd.

Sterne was their looke, like wild amazed steares,

Staring with hollow eyes, and stiffe vpstanding heares.

14 Fiersly at first those knights they did assaile,

And droue them to recoile: but when againe

They gaue fresh charge, their forces gan to faile,

Vnhable their encounter to sustaine;

For with such puissaunce and impetuous maine

Those Champions broke on them, that forst them fly,

Like scattered Sheepe, whenas the Shepheards swaine

A Lyon and a Tigre doth espye,

With greedy pace forth rushing from the forest nye.

15 A while they fled, but soone returnd againe

With greater fury, then before was found;

And euermore their cruell Captaine

Sought with his raskall routs t’enclose them round,

And ouerrun to tread them to the ground.

But soone the knights with their bright-burning blades

Broke their rude troupes, and orders did confound,

Hewing and slashing at their idle shades;

For though they bodies seeme, yet substance from them fades.

16 As when a swanne of Gnats at euentide

Out of the fennes of Allan do arise,

Their murmuring small trompets sounden 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.

17 Thus 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 perilous paine,

And combrous conflict, which they did sustaine,

Came to the Ladies eare, which there did dwell,

She forth issewed with a goodly traine

Of Squires and Ladies equipaged well,

And entertained them right fairely, as befell.

18 Alma she called was, a virgin bright;

That had not yet felt Cupides wanton rage,

Yet was she woo’d of many a gentle knight,

And many a Lord of noble parentage,

That sought with her to lincke in marriage:

For she 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 heauen reioyced her sweete face to see.

19 In robe of lilly white she was arayd,

That from her shoulder to her heele downe raught,

The traine whereof loose far behind her strayd,

Braunched with gold & pearle, 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 tyre she on her head did weare,

But crowned with a garland of sweete Rosiere.

20 Goodly she entertaind those noble knights,

And brought them vp into her castle hall;

Where gentle court and gracious delight

She to them made, with mildnesse virginall,

Shewing her selfe both wise and liberall:

There when they rested had a season dew,

They her besought of fauour speciall,

Of that faire Castle to affoord them vew;

She graunted, & them leading forth, the same did shew.

21 First she them led vp to the Castle wall,

That was so high, as foe might not it clime,

And all so faire, and fensible withall,

Not built of bricke, ne yet of stone and lime,

But of thing like to that AEgyptian slime,

Whereof king Nine whilome built Babell towre;

But ô great pitty, that no lenger time

So goodly workemanship should not endure:

Soone it must turne to earth; no earthly thing is sure.

22 The frame thereof seemd partly circulare,

And part triangulare, ô worke diuine;

Those two the first and last proportions are,

The one imperfect, mortall, fœminine;

Th’other immortall, perfect, masculine,

And twixt them both a quadrate was the base,

Proportioned equally by seuen and nine;

Nine was the circle set in heauens place,

All which compacted made a goodly Diyapase.

23 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 friends, and closed to their foes.

24 Of hewen stone the porch was fairely wrought,

Stone more of valew, and more smooth and fine,

Then let or Marble far from Ireland brought;

Ouer the which was cast a wandring vine,

Enchaced with a wanton yuie twine.

And ouer it a faire Portcullis hong,

Which to the gate directly did incline,

With comely compasse, and compacture strong,

Neither vnseemely short, nor yet exceeding long.

25 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 crime.

His larumbell might lowd and wide be hard,

When cause requird, but neuer out of time;

Early and late it rong, at euening and at prime.

26 And round about the porch on euery side

Twise sixteen warders sat, all armed bright

In glistring steele, and strongly fortifide:

Tall yeomen 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 returned to their restes:

The Porter eke to her did lout with humble gestes.

27 Thence she them brought into a stately Hall,

Wherein were many tables faire 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.

28 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 bad. They both attone

Did dewty to their Lady, as became;

Who passing by, forth led her guestes anone

Into the kitchin rowme, ne spard for nicenesse none.

29 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 mighty furnace, burning whot,

More whot, then Aetn’, or flaming Mongiball:

For day and night it brent, ne ceased not,

So long as any thing it in the caudron got.

30 But to delay the heat, least by mischaunce

It might breake out, and set the whole on fire,

There added was by goodly ordinaunce,

An huge great paire of bellowes, which did styre

Continually, and cooling breath inspyre.

About the Caudron many Cookes accoyld,

With hookes and ladles, as need did require;

The whiles the viandes in the vessell boyld

They did about their businesse sweat, and sorely toyld.

31 The maister Cooke was cald Concoction,

A carefull man, and full of comely guise:

The kitchin Clerke, that hight Digestion,

Did order all th’Achates in seemely wise,

And set them forth, as well he could deuise.

The rest had seuerall offices assind,

Some to remoue the scum, as it did rise;

Others to beare the same away did mind;

And others it to vse according to his kind.

32 But all the liquour, which was fowle and wast,

Not good nor seruiceable else for ought,

They in another great round vessell plast,

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 back-gate brought,

That cleped was Port Esquiline, whereby

It was auoided quite, and throwne out priuily.

33 Which goodly order, and great workmans skill

Whenas those knights beheld, with rare delight,

And gazing wonder they their minds 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

34 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 eachone sought his Lady to aggrate:

And eke emongst them litle Cupid playd

His wanton sports, being returned late

From his fierce warres, and hauing from him layd

His cruell bow, wherewith he thousands hath dismayd.

35 Diuerse delights they found them selues to please;

Some song in sweet consort, some laught for ioy,

Some plaid with strawes, some idly sat at ease;

But other some could not abide to toy,

All pleasaunce was to them griefe and annoy:

This firound, 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.

36 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 Damsell 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 constraind her gentle spright.

37 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 curteous manner said;

Gentle Madame, why beene ye thus dismaid,

And your faire beautie do with sadnesse spill?

Liues any, that you hath thus ill apaid?

Or doen you loue, or doen you lacke your will?

What euer be the cause, it sure beseemes you ill.

38 Faire Sir, (said she halfe in disdainefull wise,)

How is it, that this word in me ye blame,

And in your selfe do not the same aduise?

Him ill beseemes, anothers fault to name,

That may vnwares be 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 behind,

That haue twelue moneths sought one, yet no where can her

[find.

39 The Prince was inly moued at her speach,

Well weeting trew, what she had rashly told;

Yet with faire samblaunt sought to hide the breach,

Which chaunge of colour did perforce vnfold,

Now seeming flaming whot, now stony cold.

Tho turning soft aside, he did inquire,

What wight she was, that Poplar braunch did hold:

It answered was, her name was Prays-desire,

That by well doing sought to honour to aspire.

40 The whiles, the Faerie knight did entertaine

Another Damsell of that gentle crew,

That was right faire, and modest of demaine,

But that too oft she chaung’d her natiue hew:

Straunge was her tyre, and all her garment blew,

Close round about her tuckt with many a plight:

Vpon her fist the bird, which shonneth vew,

And keepes in couerts close from liuing wight,

Did sit, as yet ashamd, how rude Pan did her dight.

41 So long as Guyon with her commoned,

Vnto the ground she cast her modest eye,

And euer and anone with rosie red

The bashfull bloud her snowy cheekes did dye,

That her became, as polisht yuory,

Which cunning Craftesman hand hath ouerlayd

With faire vermilion or pure Castory.

Great wonder had the knight, to see the mayd

So straungely passioned, and to her gently sayd,

42 Faire Damzell, seemeth, by your troubled cheare,

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 arise.

If it be I, of pardon I you pray;

But if ought else that I mote not deuise,

I will, if please you it discure, assay,

To ease you of that ill, so wisely as I may.

43 She answerd nought, but more abasht for shame,

Held downe her head, the whiles her louely face

The flashing bloud 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 mat, which ye so much embrace?

She is the fountaine of your modestee;

You shamefast are, but Shamefastnesse it selfe is shee.

44 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 Ladie 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,

45 That Turrets frame most admirable was,

Like highest heauen compassed around,

And lifted high aboue this earthly masse,

Which it suruew’d, as hils doen lower ground;

But not on ground mote 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 Hectors bloud by cruell Greekes was spilt.

46 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 flam’d continually:

For they of liuing fire most subtilly

Were made, and set in siluer sockets bright,

Couer’d with lids deuiz’d of substance sly,

That readily they shut and open might.

O who can tell the prayses of that makers might]

47 Ne can I tell, ne can I stay to tell

This parts great workmanship, & wondrous powre,

That all this other worlds worke doth excell,

And likest is vnto that heauenly towre,

That God hath built for his owne blessed bowre.

Therein were diuerse roomes, and diuerse 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.

48 Not he, whom Greece, tbe Nourse of all good arts,

By Phœbus doome, the wisest thought aliue,

Might be compar’d to these 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 roomes did sundry dwell,

And counselled faire Alma, how to gouerne well.

49 The first of them could things to come foresee:

The next could of things 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 of these comprize.

For thy the first did in the forepart sit,

That nought mote hinder his quicke preiudize:

He had a sharpe foresight, and working wit,

That neuer idle was, ne once could rest a whit.

50 His chamber was dispainted all within,

With sundry colours, in the which were writ

Infinite shapes of things 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, Centaurs, feendes, Hippodames,

Apes, Lions, Ægles, Owles, fooles, louers, children, Dames.

51 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 abound:

All those were idle thoughts and fantasies,

Deuices, dreames, opinions vnsound,

Shewes, visions, sooth-sayes, and prophesies;

And all that fained is, as leasings, tales, and lies.

52 Emongst them all sate he, which wonned there,

That hight Phantastes by his nature trew;

A man of yeares yet fresh, as mote appere,

Of swarth complexion, and of crabbed hew,

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.

53 Whom Alma hauing shewed to her guestes,

Thence brought them to the second roome, 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 iudgements, and of decretals;

All artes, all science, all Philosophy,

And all that in the world was aye thought wittily.

54 Of those that roome 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 pleasure had those stranger knights, to see

His goodly reason, and graue personage,

That his disciples both desir’d to bee;

But Alma thence them led to th’hindmost roome of three.

55 That chamber seemed ruinous and old,

And therefore was remoued farre behind,

Yet were the wals, that did the same vphold,

Right firme & strong, though somewhat they declind;

And therein sate 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 well is chang’d for minds redoubled forse.

56 This man of infinite remembrance 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 else, 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.

57 The yeares of Nestor nothing were to his,

Ne yet Mathusalem, though longest liu’d;

For he remembred both their infancies:

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 rolles,

And old records from auncient times deriu’d,

Some made in books, some in long parchment scrolles,

That were all worme-eaten, and full of canker holes.

58 Amidst them all he in a chaire was set,

Tossing and turning them withouten end;

But for he was vnhable them to fet,

A litle boy did on him still attend,

To reach, when euer he for ought did send;

And oft when things 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.

59 The knights there entring, did him reuerence dew

And wondred at his endlesse exercise,

Then as they gan his Librarie to vew,

And antique Registers for to auise,

There chaunced to the Princes hand to rize,

An auncient booke, bight Briton moniments,

That of this lands first conquest did deuize,

And old diuision into Regiments,

Till it reduced was to one mans gouernments.

60 Sir Guyon chaunst eke on another booke,

That hight Antiquitie of Faerie lond.

In which when as he greedily did looke;

Th’off-spring of Elues and Faries there he fond,

As it deliuered was from hond to hond:

Whereat they burning both with feruent fire,

Their countries auncestry to vnderstond,

Crau’d leaue of Alma, and that aged sire,

To read those bookes; who gladly graunted their desire.

CANTO X

A chronicle of Briton kings,
   from Brute to Vthers rayne.
And rolles of Elfin Emperours,
   till time of Gloriane.

1 Who now shall giue vnto me words and sound.

Equall vnto this haughtie enterprise?

Or who shal lend me wings, with which from ground

My lowly verse may loftily arise,

And lift it selfe vnto the highest skies?

More ample spirit, then hitherto was wount,

Here needes me, whiles the famous auncestries

Of my most dreaded Soueraigne I recount,

By which all earthly Princes she doth farre surmount.

2 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 heauens hight,

And all the world with wonder ouerspred;

A labour huge, exceeding farre my might:

How shall fraile pen, with feare disparaged,

Conceiue such soueraine glory, and great bountihed?

3 Argument worthy of Mœonian quill,

Or rather worthy of great Phœbus rote,

Whereon the ruines of great Ossa hill,

And triumphes of Phlegrœan loue he wrote,

That all the Gods admird his loftie note.

But if some relish of that heauenly lay

His learned daughters would to me report,

To decke my song withall, I would assay,

Thy name, ô soueraine Queene, to blazon farre away.

4 Thy name ô soueraine Queene, thy realme and race,

From this renowmed Prince deriued arre,

Who mightily vpheld that royall mace,

Which now thou bearst, to thee descended farre

From mightie kings and conquerours in wane,

Thy lathers and great Grandfathers of old,

Whose noble deedes aboue the Northerne 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,

5 And therein haue their mightie empire raysd,

In antique times was saluage wildernesse,

Vnpeopled, vnmanurd, vnprou’d, vnpraysd,

Ne was it Island then, ne was it paysd

Amid the Ocean waues, ne was it sought

Of marchants farre, for profits therein praysd,

But was all desolate, and of some thought

By sea to haue bene from the Celticke mayn-land brought

6 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 vnheedie wrecke and rash decay,

For safeties sake that same his sea-marke made,

And namd it Albion. But later day

7 Finding in it fit ports for fishers trade,

Gan more the same frequent, and further to inuade.

But farre in land a saluage nation dwelt,

Of hideous Giants, and halfe beastly men,

That neuer tasted grace, nor goodnesse felt,

But like wild beasts 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 liued then;

Of stature huge, and eke of courage bold,

That sonnes of men amazd their sternnesse to behold.

8 But whence they sprong, or how they were begot,

Vneath is to assure; vneath to wene

That monstrous error, which doth some assot,

That Dioclsians fiftie daughters shene

Into this land by chaunce haue driuen bene,

Where companing with feends and filthy Sprights,

Through vaine illusion of their lust vndene,

They brought forth Giants and such dreadfiill wights,

As farre exceeded men in their immeasurd mights.

9 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 natiue slime;

Vntill that Brutus anciently deriu’d

From royall stocke of old Assaracs line,

Driuen by fatall error, here arriu’d,

And them of their vniust possession depriu’d.

10 But ere he had established his throne,

And spred his empire to the vtmost shore,

He fought great battels with his saluage fone;

In which he them defeated euermore,

And many Giants left on groning flore;

That well can witnesse yet vnto this day

The westerne Hogh, besprincled with the gore

Of mightie Goёmot, whom in stout fray

Corineus conquered, and cruelly did slay.

11 And eke that ample Pit, yet farre renownd,

For the large leape, which Debon did compell

Coulin to make, being eight lugs of grownd;

Into the which returning backe, he fell,

But those three monstrous stones doe most excell

Which that huge sonne of hideous Albion,

Whose father Hercules in Fraunce did quell,

Great Godmer threw, in fierce contention,

At bold Canutes; but of him was slaine anon.

12 In meed of these great conquests by them got,

Corineus had that Prouince vtmost west,

To him assigned for his worthy lot,

Which of his name and memorable gest

He called Cornewaile, yet so called best:

And Debons shayre was, that is Deuonshyre:

But Canute had his portion from the rest,

The which he cald Canutium, for his hyre;

Now Cantium, which Kent we commenly inquire.

13 Thus Brute this Realme vnto his rule subdewd,

And raigned long in great felicitie,

Lou’d of his friends, and of his foes eschewd,

He left three sonnes, his famous progeny,

Borne of faire Inogene of Italy,

Mongst whom he parted 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.

14 Locrine was left the soueraine Lord of all;

But Albanact had all the Northrene part,

Which of himselfe Albania he did call;

And Camber did possesse the Westerne quart,

Which Seuerne 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 paines to others profit still employd.

15 Vntill a nation straung, with visage swart,

And courage fierce, that all men did affray,

Which through the world then swarmd in euery part,

And ouerflow’d all countries farre 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 Locrine for his Realmes defence,

Did head against them make, and strong munifience.

16 He them encountred, a confused rout,

Foreby the Riuer, that whylome was hight

The auncient Abus, where with courage stout

He them defeated in victorious fight,

And chaste so fiercely after fearefull flight,

That forst their Chieftaine, for his safeties sake,

(Their Chieftaine Humber named was aright)

Vnto the mightie streame him to betake,

Where he an end of battell, and of life did make.

17 The king returned proud of victorie,

And insolent wox through vnwonted ease,

That shortly he forgot the ieopardie,

Which in his land he lately did appease,

And fell to vaine voluptuous disease:

He lou’d faire Ladie Estrild, lewdly lou’d,

Whose wanton pleasures him too much did please,

That quite his hart from Guendolene remou’d,

From Guendolene his wife, though alwaies faithfull prou’d.

18 The noble daughter of Corineus

Would not endure to be so vile disdaind,

But gathering force, and courage valorous,

Encountred him in battell 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.

19 But both her selfe, and eke her daughter deare,

Begotten by her kingly Paramoure,

The faire Sabrina almost dead with feare,

She there attached, farre from all succoure;

The one she slew in that impatient stoure,

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.

20 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 years he raught, and stronger stay:

During which time her powre she did display

Through all this realme, the glorie of her sex,

And first taught men a woman to obay:

But when her sonne to mans estate did wex,

She it surrendred, he her selfe would lenger vex.

21 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 kingdome him he kild.

But Ebranck salued both their infamies

With noble deedes, and warreyd on Brunchild

In Henault, where yet of his victories

Braue moniments remaine, which yet that land enuies.

22 An happie man in his first dayes he was,

And happie 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 minds to praise, and cheualrous desire:

Those germans did subdew all Germany,

Of whom it hight; but in the end their Sire

With foule repulse from Fraunce was forced to retire.

23 Which blot his sonne succeeding in his seat,

The second Brute, the second both in name,

And eke in semblance of his puissance 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 sundrie spoiles she hath beene ransacked.

24 Let Scaldis tell, and let tell Henia,

And let the marsh of Estham bruges tell,

What colour were their waters that same day,

And all the moore twixt Eluersham and Dell,

With bloud of Henalois, which therein fell

How oft that day did sad Brunchildis see

The greene shield dyde in dolorous vermeil?

That not Scuith guiridh it mote seeme to bee.

But rather y Scuith gogh, signe of sad crueltee.

25 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 warres to cease.

Whose footsteps Bladud following, in arts

Exceld at Athens all the learned preace,

From whence he brought them to these saluage parts,

And with sweet science mollifide their stubbome harts.

26 Ensample of his wondrous faculty,

Behold the boyling Bathes at Cairleon,

Which seeth with secret fire eternally,

And in their entrails, full of quicke Brimston,

Nourish the flames, which they are warm’d vpon,

That to their people wealth they forth do well,

And health to euery forreine nation:

Yet he at last contending to excell

The reach of men, through flight into fond mischief fell.

27 Next him king Leyr in happie peace long raind,

But had no issue male him to succeed,

But three faire daughters, which were well vptraind,

In all that seemed fit 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

Inquyrd, which of them most did loue her parentage.

28 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 faire

To paint it forth, him to displeasance moou’d,

That in his crowne he counted her no haire,

But twixt the other twaine his kingdome whole did shaire.

29 So wedded th’one to Maglan king of Scots,

And th’other to the king of Cambria,

And twixt them shayrd his realme by equall lots:

But without dowre the wise Cordelia,

Was sent to Aganip of Geltica.

Their aged Syre, thus eased of his crowne,

A priuate life led in Albania,

With Gonorill, long had in great renowne,

That nought him grieu’d to bene from rule deposed downe.

30 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 waxe of his continuall stay.

Tho to bis daughter Rigan 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.

31 The wretched man gan then auise too late,

That loue is not, where most it is profest,

Too truely tryde in his extreamest state;

At last resolu’d likewise to proue the rest,

He to Cordelia him selfe addrest,

Who with entire affection him receau’d,

As for her Syre and king her seemed best;

And after all an army strong she leau’d,

To war on those, which him had of his realme bereau’d.

32 So to his crowne she him restor’d 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 wearie of that wretched life, her selfe she hong.

33 Then gan the bloudie brethren both to raine:

But fierce Cundah gan shortly to enuie

His brother Morgan, prickt with proud disdaine,

To haue a pere in part of soueraintie,

And kindling coles of cruell enmitie,

Raisd warre, and him in battell ouerthrew:

Whence as he to those woodie hils did flie,

Which hight of him Glamorgan, there him slew:

Then did he raigne alone, when he none equall knew.

34 His sonne Riuallo his dead roome did supply,

In whose sad time bloud did from heauen raine:

Next great Gurgustus, then faire Cœcily

In constant peace their kingdomes did containe,

After whom Logo, and Kinmarke did raine,

And Gorbogud, till farre in yeares he grew:

Till his ambitious sonnes vnto them twaine,

Arraught the rule, and from their father drew,

Stout Ferrex and sterne Porrex him in prison threw.

35 But ô, 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 forreine might,

Made warre on him, and fell him selfe in fight:

Whose death t’auenge, his mother mercilesse,

Most mercilesse of women, Wyden hight,

Her other sonne fast sleeping did oppresse,

And with most cruell hand him murdred pitdlesse.

36 Here ended Brutus sacred progenie,

Which had seuen hundred yeares this scepter borne,

With high renowme, and great felicitie;

The noble braunch from th’antique stocke was tome

Through discord, and the royall 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 glory auncient.

37 Then vp arose a man of matchlesse might,

And wondrous wit to menage high affaires,

Who stird with pitty of the stressed plight

Of this sad Realme, cut into sundry shakes

By such, as claymd themselues Brutes rightfull haires,

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.

38 Then made he head against his enimies,

And Ymner slew, of Logris miscreate;

Then Ruddoc and proud Stater, both allyes,

This of Albanie newly nominate,

And that of Cambry king confirmed late,

He ouerthrew through his owne valiaunce;

Whose countreis he redus’d to quiet state,

And shortly brought to ciuill gouernaunce.

Now one, which earst were many, made through variaunce.

39 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 gracious Numa of great Britanie:

For till his dayes, the chiefe dominion

By strength was wielded without pollicie;

Therefore he first wore crowne of gold for dignitie.

40 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 well tryde, when they were wroth;

Besides subiected Fraunce, and Germany,

Which yet their prayses speake, all be they loth,

And inly tremble at the memory

Of Brennus and Bellinus, kings of Britany.

41 Next them did Gurgunt, great Bellinus sonne

In rule succeeds, and eke in fathers prayse;

He Easterland subdewd, and Danmarke wonne,

And of them both did foy and tribute raise,

The which was dew in his dead fathers dayes:

He also gaue to fugitiues of Spayne,

Whom he at sea found wandring from their wayes,

A seate in Ireland safely to remayne,

Which they should hold of him, as subiect to Britayne.

42 After him raigned Guitheline his hayre,

The iustest man and trewest in his dayes,

Who had to wife Dame Mertia the fayre,

A woman worthy of immortall prayse,

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 Mertian lawes both nam’d & thought.

43 Her sonne Sisillus after her did rayne,

And then Kimarus, and then Danius;

Next whom Morindus did the crowne sustaine,

Who, had he not with wrath outrageous,

And cruell rancour dim’d his valorous

And mightie deeds, 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.

44 Fiue sonnes he left begotten of one wife,

All which successiuely by turnes did raine;

First Gorboman a man of vertuous life;

Next Archigald, who for his proud disdaine,

Deposed was from Princedome soueraine,

And pitteous Elidure put in his sted;

Who shortly it to him restord againe,

Till by his death he it recouered;

But Peridure and Vigent him disthronized.

45 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,

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.

46 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 reœdifye

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.

47 Whilst they were young, Cassibalane their Erne

Was by the people chosen in their sted,

Who on him tooke the royall Diademe,

And goodly well long time it gouerned,

Till the prowd Romanes him disquieted,

And warlike Cœsar, tempted with the name

Of this sweet Island, neuer conquered,

And enuying the Britons blazed fame,

(O hideous hunger of dominion) hither came,

48 Yet twise they were repulsed backe againe,

And twise renforst, backe to their ships to fly,

The whiles with bloud 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 Vndes soueraintie,

Betrayd his contrey vnto forreine spoyle:

Nought else, but treason, from the first this land did foyle.

49 So by him Cœsar got the victory,

Through great bloushed, and many a sad assay,

In which him selfe 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 did defray;

Yet oft the Briton kings against them strongly swayd.

50 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.

51 Good Claudius, that next was Emperour,

An army brought, and with him battell fought,

In which the king was by a Treachetour

Disguised slaine, ere any thereof thought:

Yet ceased not the bloudy fight for ought;

For Aruirage his brothers place supplide,

Both in his armes, and crowne, and by that draught

Did driue the Romanes to the weaker side,

That they to peace agreed. So all was pacifide.

52 Was neuer king more highly magnifide,

Nor dred of Romanes, then was Aruirage,

For which the Emperour to him allide

His daughter Genuiss’ in marriage:

Yet shortly he renounst the vassalage

Of Rome againe, who hither hastly sent

Vespasian, that with great spoile and rage

Forwasted all, till Genuissa gent

Perswaded him to ceasse, and her Lord to relent

53 He dyde; and him succeeded Marius,

Who ioyd his dayes in great tranquillity,

Then Coyll, and after him good Lucius,

That first receiued Christianitie,

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 greatly did decay.

54 This good king shortly without issew dide,

Whereof great trouble in the kingdome grew,

That did her selfe in sundry parts diuide,

And with her powre her owne selfe ouerthrew,

Whilest Romanes dayly 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 Seueme did enclose.

55 There she with them a cruell battell tride,

Not with so good successe, as she deseru’d;

By reason that the Captaines on her side,

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 courage on the victour seru’d:

But being all defeated, saue a few,

Rather then fly, or be captiu’d her selfe she slew.

56 O famous moniment of womens prayse,

Matchable either to Semiramis,

Whom antique history so high doth raise,

Or to Hysiphil’ or to Thomiris:

Her Host two hundred thousand numbred is;

Who whiles good fortune fauoured her might,

Triumphed oft against her enimis;

And yet though ouercome in haplesse fight,

She triumphed on death, in enemies despight

57 Her reliques Fulgent hauing gathered,

Fought with Seuerus, and him ouerthrew;

Yet in the chace was slaine of them, that fled:

So made them victours, whom 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:

58 For Asclepiodate him ouercame,

And left inglorious on the vanquisht playne,

Without or robe, or rag, to hide his shame.

Then afterwards he in his stead did rayne;

But shortly was by Coyll in battell slaine:

Who after long debate, since Lucies time,

Was of the Britons first crownd Soueraine:

Then gan this Realme renewe her passed prime:

He of his name Coylchester built of stone and lime.

59 Which when the Romanes heard, they hither sent

Constantius, a man of mickle might,

With whom king Coyll made an agreement,

And to him gaue for wife his daughter bright,

Faire Helena, the fairest liuing wight;

Who in all godly thewes, and goodly prayse

Did far excell, but was most famous bight

For skill in Musicke of all in her dayes,

Aswell in curious instruments, as cunning layes.

60 Of whom he did great Constantine beget,

Who afterward was Emperour of Rome;

To which whiles absent he his mind did set,

Octauius here lept into his roome,

And it vsurped by vnrighteous doome:

But he his title justifide by might,

Slaying Traherne, and hauing ouercome

The Romane legion in dreadfull fight:

So settled he his kingdome, and confirmd his right.

61 But wanting issew 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 friends 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 easie hand.

62 The weary Britons, whose war-hable youth

Was by Maximian lately led away,

With wretched miseries, and woefull ruth,

Were to those Pagans made an open pray,

And dayly spectacle of sad decay:

Whom Romane warres, which now foure hundred yeares,

And more had wasted, could no whit dismay;

Till by consent of Commons and of Peares,

They crownd the second Constantine with ioyous teares,

63 Who hauing oft in battell vanquished

Those spoilefull Picts, and swarming Easterlings,

Long time in peace his Realme established,

Yet oft annoyd with sundry bordragings

Of neighbour Scots, and forrein Scatterlings,

With which the world did in those dayes abound:

Which to outbarre, with painerull pyonings

From sea to sea he heapt a mightie mound,

Which from Akluid to Panwelt did that border bound.

64 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 Germanie, straunge aid to reare,

From whence eftsoones arriued here three hoyea

Of Saxons, whom he for his safetie imployes.

65 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 ciuill iarre,

And of those forreiners, 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 enforst the kingdome to aband.

66 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,

Through his faire daughters face, & flattring word;

Soone after which, three hundred Lordes he slew

Of British bloud, all sitting at his bord;

Whose dolefull moniments who list to rew,

Th’eternall markes of treason may at Stonheng vew.

67 By this the sonnes of Constantine, which fled,

Ambrose and Vther did ripe yeares attaine,

And here arriuing, strongly challenged

The crowne, which Vortiger did long detaine:

Who flying from his guilt, by them was slaine,

And Hengist eke soone brought to shamefull death.

Thenceforth Aurelius peaceably did rayne,

Till that through poyson stopped was his breath;

So now entombed lyes at Stoneheng by the heath.

68 After him Vther, which Pendragon hight,

Succeding There abruptly it did end,

Without full point, or other Cesure right,

As if the rest some wicked hand did rend,

Or th’Authour selfe could not at least attend

To finish it: that so vntimely breach

The Prince him selfe halfe seemeth to offend,

Yet secret pleasure did offence empeach,

And wonder of antiquitie long stopt his speach.

69 At last quite rauisht with delight, to heare

The royall Ofspring of his natiue land,

Cryde out, Dcare countrey, 6 how dearely deare

Ought thy remembraunce, and perpetuall band

Be to thy foster Childe, that 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.

70 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 partes from beasts deriued

And then stole fire from heauen, to animate

His worke, for which he was by loue depriued

Of life him selfe, and hart-strings of an Ægle riued.

71 That man so made, he called Elfe, to weet

Quick, the first authour of all Elfin kind:

Who wandring through the world with wearie feet,

Did in the gardins of Adonis find

A goodly creature, whom he deemd in mind

To be no earthly wight, but either Spright,

Or Angell, th’authour of all woman kind;

Therefore a Fay he her according hight,

Of whom all Faeryes spring, and fetch their lignage right.

72 Of these a mightie people shortly grew,

And puissaunt kings, 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 layd

Cleopolis foundation first of all:

But Elfiline enclose! it with a golden wall.

73 His sonne was Elfinell, who ouercame

The wicked Gobbelines in bloudy field:

But Elfant was of most renowmed fame,

Who all of Christall did Panthea build:

Then Elfar, who two brethren gyants kild,

The one of which had two heads, th’other three:

Then Elfinor, who was in Magick skild;

He built by art vpon the glassy See

A bridge of bras, whose sound heauens thunder seem’d to bee.

74 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 sundry gouerntnents;

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 ciuill rule to kings and states imperiall.

75 After all these Elficleos did rayne,

The wise Elficleos in great Maiestie,

Who mightily that scepter did sustayne,

And with rich spoiles 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 supph’de, in spousall, and dominion.

76 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 and great powre.

77 Beguild thus with delight of nouelties,

And naturall desire of countreys state,

So long they red 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 fairely feasted, as so noble knights she ought.

CANTO XI

The enimies of Temperaunce
   besiege her dwelling place:
Prince Arthur them repelles, and fowle
   Maleger doth deface.

1 What warre so cruell, or what siege so sore,

As that, which strong affections do apply

Against the fort of reason euermore

To bring the soule into captiuitie:

Their force is fiercer through infirmitie

Of the fraile flesh, relenting to their rage,

And exercise most bitter tyranny

Vpon the parts, brought into their bondage:

No wretchednesse is like to sinfull vellenage.

2 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

Is setled there in sure establishment;

There Alma like a virgin Queene most bright,

Doth florish in all beautde excellent:

And to her guestes doth bounteous banket dight,

Attempred goodly well for health and for delight.

3 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 die Palmer eke in habit sad,

Him selfe addrest to that aduenture hard:

So to the riuers side they both together far’d.

4 Where them awaited ready at the ford

The Ferriman, as Alma had benight,

With his well rigged boate: They go abord,

And he eftsoones gan launch his barke forthright.

Ere long they rowed were quite out of sight,

And fast the land behind them fled away.

But let them pas, whiles wind and weather right

Do serue their turnes: here I a while must stay,

To see a cruell fight doen by the Prince this day.

5 For all so soone, as Guyon thence was gon

Vpon his voyage with his trustie guide,

That wicked band of villeins fresh begon

That castle to assaile on euery side,

And lay strong siege about it far and wide.

So huge and infinite their numbers were,

That all the land they vnder them did hide;

So fowle and vgly, that exceeding feare

Their visages imprest, when they approched neare.

6 Them in twelue troupes their Captain 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.

7 The other fiue, fiue sundry wayes he set,

Against the fiue great Bulwarkes of that pile,

And vnto each a Bulwarke did arret,

T’assayle with open force or hidden guile,

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.

8 The first troupe was a monstrous rablement

Of fowle misshapen wights, 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 enuies,

And couetous aspectes, all cruell enimies.

9 Those same against the bulwarke of the Sight

Did lay strong siege, and battailous assault,

Ne once did yield it respit day nor night,

But soone as Titan gan his head exault,

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 that Bulwarke sorely rent.

10 The second Bulwarke was the Hearing sence,

Gainst which the second troupe dessignment makes;

Deformed creatures, in straunge difference,

Some hauing heads like Harts, some like to Snakes,

Some like wild Bores late rouzd out of the brakes;

Slaunderous reproches, and fowle infamies,

Leasings, backbytings, and vaine-glorious crakes,

Bad counsels, prayses, and false flatteries.

All those against that fort did bend their batteries.

11 Likewise that same third Fort, that is the Smell

Of that third troupe was cruelly assayd:

Whose hideous shapes were like to feends of hell,

Some like to hounds, 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 do that sence besiege with light illusions.

12 And that fourth band, which cruell battry bent,

Against the fourth Bulwarke, that is the Tost,

Was as the rest, a grysie rablement,

Some mouth’d like greedy Oystriges, some fast

Like loathly Toades, some fashioned in the wast

Like swine; for so deformd is luxury,

Surfeat, misdiet, and vnthriftie wast,

Vaine feasts, and idle superfluity:

All those this sences Fort assayle incessantly.

13 But the fift troupe most horrible of hew,

And fierce of force, was dreadfull to report:

For some like Snailes, some did like spyders shew,

And some like vgly Vrchins thicke and short:

Cruelly they assayled that fift Fort,

Armed with darts of sensuall delight,

With stings of carnall lust, and strong effort

Of feeling pleasures, with which day and night

Against that same fift bulwarke they continued fight

14 Thus these twelue troupes with dreadfull puissance

Against that Castle restlesse siege did lay,

And euermore their hideous Ordinance

Vpon the Bulwarkes cruelly did play,

That now it gan to threaten neare decay:

And euermore their wicked Capitaine

Prouoked them the breaches to assay,

Somtimes with threats, somtimes with hope of gaine,

Which by the ransack of that peece they should attaine.

15 On th’other side, th’assieged Castles ward

Their stedfast stonds did mightily maintaine,

And many bold repulse, and many hard

Atchieuement wrought with perill and with paine,

That goodly frame from mine to sustaine:

And those two brethren Giants did defend

The walles so stoutly with their sturdie maine,

That neuer entrance any durst pretend,

But they to direfull death their groning ghosts did send.

16 The noble virgin, Ladie of the place,

Was much dismayed with that dreadfull sight:

For neuer was she in so euill cace,

Till that the Prince seeing her wofull plight,

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’author of that strife:

She him remerded as the Patrone of her life.

17 Eftsoones 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.

Faire mote he thee, the prowest and most gent,

That euer brandished bright Steele on hye:

Whom soone as that vnruly rablement,

With his gay Squire issuing did espy,

They reard a most outrageous dreadfull yelling cry.

18 And therewith all attonce at him let fly

Their fluttring arrowes, thicke as flakes of snow,

And round about him flocke impetuously,

Like a great water flood, that tombling low

From the high mountaines, threats to ouerflow

With suddein fury all the fertile plaine,

And the sad husbandmans long hope doth throw

A downe the streame, and all his vowes make vaine,

Nor bounds nor banks his headlong mine may sustaine.

19 Vpon his shield their heaped hayle he bore,

And with his sword disperst the raskall flockes,

Which fled a sunder, and him fell before,

As withered leaues drop from their dried stockes,

When 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 Phoebus race did breed

20 Which suddeine horrour and confused cry,

When as their Captaine 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-dothes were vnbound.

21 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 feathers bloudie 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.

22 As pale and wan as ashes was his looke,

His bodie leane and meagre as a rake,

And skin all withered like a dryed rooke,

Thereto as cold and drery as a Snake,

That seem’d 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 seem’d a ghastly sight.

23 Maleger was his name, and after him,

There follow’d fast at hand two wicked Hags,

With hoarie lockes all loose, and visage grim;

Their feet vnshod, their bodies wrapt in rags,

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.

24 Soone as the Carle from farre 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

25 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 hardie to abide

That bitter stownd, but turning quicke aside

His light-foot beast, fled fast away for feare:

Whom to pursue, the Infant after hide,

So fast as his good Courser could him beare,

But labour lost it was, to weene approch him neare.

26 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 speedie 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.

27 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 pursew:

Who 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.

28 But that lame Hag, still as abroad he strew

His wicked arrowes, gathered them againe,

And to him brought, fresh battell 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 farre away espy

Binding her sister, she to him ran hastily.

29 And catching hold of him, as downe he lent,

Him backward ouerthrew, and downe him stayd

With their rude hands and griesly 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.

30 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 assurance it may neuer stand,

Till it dissolued be from earthly band.

Proofe be thou Prince, the prowest man aliue,

And noblest borne of all in Briton land;

Yet thee fierce Fortune did so nearely driue,

That had not grace thee blest, thou shouldest not suruiue.

31 The Squire arriuing, fiercely in his armes

Snatcht first the one, and then the other lade,

His chiefest lets and authors of his harm.es,

And them perforce withheld with threatned blade,

Least that his Lord they should behind inuade;

The whiles the Prince prickt with reprochfull shame,

As one awakt out of long slombring shade,

Reuiuing thought of glorie and of fame,

Vnited all his powres to purge himselfe from blame.

32 Like as a fire, the which in hollow caue

Hath long bene vnderkept, and downe supprest,

With murmurous disdaine doth inly raue,

And grudge, in so streight prison to be prest,

At last breakes forth with furious vnrest,

And striues to mount vnto his natiue seat;

All that did earst it hinder and molest,

It now deuoures with flames and scorching heat,

And carries into smoake with rage and horror great.

33 So mightily the Briton Prince him rouzd

Out of his hold, and broke his caitiue 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 withstands

Treads downe 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 flat lying on the marie.

34 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 farre from his monstrous swarme,

And of his weapons did himselfe disarme.

The knight yet wrothfull for his late disgrace,

Fiercely aduaunst his valorous right arme,

And him so sore smote with his yron mace,

That groueling to the ground he fell, and fild his place.

35 Well weened he, that field was then bis owne,

And all his labour brought to happie end,

When suddein vp the villein ouerthrowne,

Out of his swowne arose, fresh to contend,

And gan himselfe to second battell bend,

As hurt he had not bene. Thereby there lay

An huge great stone, which stood vpon one end,

And had not bene remoued many a day;

Some land-marke seem’d to be, or signe of sundry way.

36 The same he snatcht, and with exceeding sway

Threw at his foe, who was right well aware

To shunne the engin of his meant decay;

It .booted not to thinke that throw to beare,

But ground he gaue, and lightly leapt areare:

Eft fierce returning, as a Faulcon faire

That once hath failed of her souse full neare,

Remounts againe into the open aire,

And vnto better fortune doth her selfe prepaire.

37 So braue returning, with his brandisht blade,

He to the Carle himselfe againe addrest,

And strooke at him so sternely, that he made

An open passage through his riuen brest,

That halfe the Steele behind his back did rest;

Which drawing backe, he looked euermore

When the hart bloud should gush out of his chest,

Or his dead corse should fall vpon the flore;

But his dead corse vpon the flore fell nathemore.

38 Ne drop of bloud appeared shed to bee,

All were the wounde so wide and wonderous,

That through his carkasse one might plainely see:

Halfe in a maze with horror hideous,

And halfe in rage, to be deluded thus,

Againe 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.

39 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 aerie spirit vnder false pretence,

Or hellish feend raysd vp through diuelish science.

40 His wonder farre exceeded reasons reach,

That he began to doubt his dazeled sight,

And oft of error did himselfe appeach:

Flesh without bloud, a person without spright,

Wounds without hurt, a bodie without might,

That could doe harme, yet could not harmed bee,

That could not die, yet seem’d a mortall wight,

That was most strong in most infirmitee;

Like did he neuer heare, like did he neuer see.

41 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 victorie assay,

Or th’vtmost issew 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.

42 Twixt his two mightie armes him vp he snatcht,

And crusht his carkasse so against his brest,

That the disdainfull soule he thence dispatcht,

And th’idle breath all vtterly exprest:

Tho when he felt him dead, adowne he kest

The lumpish corse vnto the senselesse grownd;

Adowne he kest it with so puissant wrest,

That backe againe it did aloft rebownd,

And gaue against his mother earth a gronefull sownd.

43 As when Iues harnesse-bearing Bird from hie

Stoupes at a flying heron with proud disdaine,

The stone-dead quarrey fals so forciblie,

That it rebounds against the lowly plaine,

A second fall redoubling backe againe.

Then thought the Prince all perill sure was past,

And that he victor onely did remaine;

No sooner thought, then that the Carle as fast

Gan heap huge strokes on him, as ere he downe was cast

44 Nigh his wits end then woxe th’amazed knight,

And thought his labour lost and trauell vaine,

Against this lifelesse shadow so to fight:

Yet life he saw, and felt his mightie maine,

That whiles he marueild still, did still him paine:

For thy he gan some other wayes aduize,

How to take life from that dead-liuing swaine,

Whom still he marked freshly to arize

From th’earth, & from her wombe new spirits to reprize.

45 He then remembred well, that had bene sayd,

How th’Earth his mother was, and first him bore;

She eke so often, as his life decayd,

Did life with vsury to him restore,

And raysd him vp much stronger then before,

So soone as he vnto her wombe did fall;

Therefore to ground he would him cast no more,

Ne him commit to graue terrestriall,

But beare him farre from hope of succour vsuall.

46 Tho vp he caught him twixt his puissant hands,

And hauing scruzd out of his carrion corse

The lothfull life, now loosd from sinfull bands,

Vpon his shoulders carried him perforse

Aboue three furlongs, 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 paines did make.

47 Which when those wicked Hags from farre did spy,

like two mad dogs they ran about the lands,

And th’one of them with dreadfull yelling cry,

Throwing away her broken chaines and bands,

And hauing quencht her burning fier brands,

Hedlong her selfe did cast into that lake;

But Impotence with her owne wilfull hands,

One of Malegers cursed darts did take,

So riu’d her trembling hart, and wicked end did make.

48 Thus now alone he conquerour remaines;

Tho comming to his Squire, that kept his steed,

Thought to haue mounted, but his feeble vaines

Him faild thereto, and serued not his need,

Through losse of bloud, which from his wounds did bleed,

That he began to faint, and life decay:

But his good Squire him helping vp with speed,

With stedfast hand vpon his horse did stay,

And led him to the Castle by the beaten way.

49 Where many Groomes and Squiers readie were,

To take him from his steed full tenderly,

And eke the fairest Alma met him there

With balme and wine and costly spicery,

To comfort him in his infirmity;

Eftsoones she causd him vp to be conuayd,

And of his armes despoyled easily,

In sumptuous bed she made him to be layd,

And all the while his wounds were dressing, by him stayd.

CANTO XII

Guyon by Palmers gouernance,
   passing through perils great,
Doth ouerthrow the Bowre of blisse,
   and Acrasie defeat.

1 Now gins this goodly frame of Temperance

Fairely to rise, and her adorned hed

To pricke of highest praise forth to aduance,

Formerly grounded, and fast setteled

On firme foundation of true bountihed;

And that braue knight, that for this vertue fights,

Now comes to point of that same perilous sted,

Where Pleasure dwelles in sensuall delights,

Mongst thousand dangers, & ten thousand magick mights.

2 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 roaring farre away they heard,

That all their senses filled with affright,

And streight they saw the raging surges reard

Vp to the skyes, that them of drowning made affeard.

3 Said then the Boteman, Palmer stere aright,

And keepe an euen course; for yonder way

We needes must passe (God do vs well acquight,)

That is the Gulfe of Greedinesse, they say,

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 do seeme away to fly.

4 On th’other side an hideous Rocke 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 threameth downe to throw his ragged rift

On who so commeth nigh; yet nigh it drawes

All passengers, that none from it can shift:

For whiles they fly that Gulfes deuouring iawes,

They on this rock are rent, and sunck in helplesse wawes.

5 Forward they passe, and strongly he them rowes,

Vntill they nigh vnto that Gulfe arriue,

“Where streame more violent and greedy growes:

Then he with all his puissance doth striue

To strike his oares, and mightily doth driue

The hollow vessell through the threatfull waue,

Which gaping wide, to swallow them aliue,

In th’ huge abysse of his engulfing graue,

Doth rore at them in vaine, and with great terror raue.

6 They passing by, that griesly mouth did see,

Sucking the seas into his entralles deepe,

That seem’d more horrible then hell to bee,

Or that darke dreadfull hole of Tartare steepe,

Through which the damned ghosts doen often creepe

Backe to the world, bad liuers to torment:

But nought that falles into this direfull deepe,

Ne that approcheth nigh the wide descent,

May backe returne, but is condemned to be drent.

7 On th’other side, they saw that perilous Rocke,

Threatning it selfe on them to ruinate,

On whose sharpe clifts the ribs of vessels broke,

And shiuered ships, which had bene wrecked late,

Yet stuck, with carkasses exanimate

Of such, as hauing all their substance spent

In wanton ioyes, and lustes intemperate,

Did afterwards make shipwracke violent,

Both of their life, and fame for euer fowly blent.

8 For thy, this hight The Rocke of vile Reproch,

A daungerous and detestable place,

To which nor fish nor fowle did once approch,

But yelling Meawes, with Seagulles hoarse and bace,

And Cormoyrants, with birds of rauenous race,

Which still sate waiting on that wastfull clift,

For spoyle of wretches, whose vnhappie cace,

After lost credite and consumed thrift,

At last them driuen hath to this despairefull drift.

9 The Palmer seeing them in safetie past,

Thus said; behold th’ensamples in our sights,

Of lustfull luxurie and thriftlesse wast:

What now is left of miserable wights,

Which spent their looser daies in lewd delights,

But shame and sad reproch, here to be red,

By these rent reliques, speaking their ill plights?

Let all that liue, hereby be counselled,

To shunne Rocke of Reproch, and it as death to dred.

10 So forth they rowed, and that Ferryman

With his stifle oares did brush the sea so strong,

That the hoare waters from his frigot ran,

And the light bubbles daunced all along,

Whiles the salt brine out of the billowes sprong.

At last farre off they many Islands spy,

On euery side floting the floods emong:

Then said the knight, Loe I the land descry,

Therefore old Syre thy course do thereunto apply.

11 That may not be, said then the Ferryman

Least we vnweeting hap to be fordonne:

For those same Islands, seeming now and than,

Are not firme lande, nor any certein wonne,

But straggling plots, which to and fro do ronne

In the wide waters: therefore are they hight

The wandring Islands. Therefore doe them shonne;

For they haue oft drawne many a wandring wight

Into most deadly daunger and distressed plight.

12 Yet well they seeme to him, that farre doth vew,

Both faire and fruitfull, and the ground dispred

With grassie greene of delectable hew,

And the tall trees with leaues apparelled,

Are deckt with blossomes dyde in white and red,

That mote the passengers thereto allure;

But whosoeuer once hath fastened

His foot thereon, may neuer it recure,

But wandreth euer more vncertein and vnsure.

13 As th’Isle of Delos whylome men report

Amid th’Aegæan sea long time did stray,

Ne made for shipping any certaine port,

Till that Latona traueiling that way,

Flying from Iunoes wrath and hard assay,

Of her faire twins was there deliuered,

Which afterwards did rule the night and day;

Thenceforth it firmely was established,

And for Apolloes honor highly herried.

14 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 pleasant to the eye,

That it would tempt a man to touchen there:

Vpon the banck they sitting did espy

A daintie damzell, dressing of her heare,

By whom a litle skippet floting did appeare.

15 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 loudly 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 withouten ore,

From the departing land it launched light,

And after them did driue with all her power and might.

16 Whom ouertaking, she in merry sort

Them gan to bord, and purpose diuersly,

Now faining dalliance and wanton sport,

Now throwing forth lewd words immodestly;

Till that the Palmer gan full bitterly

Her to rebuke, for being loose and light:

Which not abiding, but more scornefully

Scoffing at him, that did her iustly wite,

She turnd her bote about, and from them rowed quite.

17 That was the wanton Phœdria, which late

Did ferry him ouer the Idle lake:

Whom nought regarding, they kept on their gate,

And all her vaine allurements did forsake,

When them the wary Boateman thus bespake;

Here now behoueth vs well to auyse,

And of our safetie good heede to take;

For here before a perlous passage lyes,

Where many Mermayds haunt, making false melodies.

18 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 said, 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 quicksand of Vnthriftyhed.

19 They passing by, a goodly Ship did see,

Laden from far with precious merchandize,

And brauely furnished, as ship might bee,

Which through great disauenture, or mesprize,

Her selfe had runne into that hazardize;

Whose mariners and merchants with much toyle,

Labour’d in vaine, to haue recur’d their prize,

And the rich wares to saue from pitteous spoyle,

But neither toyle nor trauell might her backe recoyle.

20 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 running round,

Did couet, as they passed by that way,

To draw the boate within the vtmost bound

Of his wide Labyrinth, and then to haue them dround.

21 But th’heedfull Boateman strongly forth did stretch

His brawnie armes, and all his body straine,

That th’vtmost sandy breach they shortly fetch,

Whiles the dred 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.

22 The waues come rolling, and the billowes rore

Outragiously, as they enraged were,

Or wrathful! Neptune did them driue before

His whirling charet, for exceeding feare:

For not one puffe of wind there did appeare,

That all the three thereat woxe much afrayd,

Vnweeting, what such horrour straunge did reare.

Eftsoones they saw an hideous hoast arrayd,

Of huge Sea monsters, such as liuing sence dismayd.

23 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 pourtraicts of deformitee:

Spring-headed Hydraes, and sea-shouldring Whales,

Great whirlpooles, which all fishes make to flee,

Bright Scolopendraes, arm’d with siluer scales,

Mighty Monoceros, with unmeasured tayles.

24 The dreadfull Fish, that hath deseru’d the name

Of Death, and like him lookes in dreadfull hew,

The griesly Wasserman, that makes his game

The flying ships with swiftnesse to pursew,

The horrible Sea-satyre, that doth shew

His 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.

25 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.

26 Feare nought, (then said 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 proceede.

Tho lifting vp his vertuous staffe on hye,

He smote the sea, which calmed was with speed,

And all that dreadfull Annie fast gan flye

Into great Tethys bosome, where they hidden lye.

27 Quit from that daunger, 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.

28 Which Guyon hearing, streight his Palmer bad,

To stere the boate 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.

29 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 Boateman strayt

Held on his course with stayed stedfastnesse,

Ne euer shruncke, ne euer sought to bayt

His tyred armes for toylesome wearinesse,

But with his oares did sweepe the watry wildernesse.

30 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.

31 They were faire Ladies, till they fondly striu’d

With th’Heliconian maides for maistery;

Of whom they ouer-comen, were depriu’d

Of their proud beautie, and th’one moyity

Transform’d to fish, for their bold surquedry,

But th’vpper halfe their hew retained still,

And their sweet skill in wonted melody;

Which euer after they abusd to ill,

T’allure weake trauellers, whom gotten they did kill.

32 So now to Guyon, as he passed by,

Their pleasaunt tunes they sweetly thus applide;

O thou faire sonne of gentle Faery,

Thou art in mighty armes most magnifide

Aboue all knights, that euer battell tride,

O turne thy rudder hither-ward a while:

Here may thy storme-bet vessell safely ride;

This is the Port of rest from troublous toyle,

The worlds sweet In, from paine & wearisome turmoyle.

33 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 Zephirus lowd whisteled

His treble, a straunge kinde of harmony;

Which Guyons senses softly tickeled,

That he the boateman bad row easily,

And let him heare some part of their rare melody.

34 But him the Palmer from that vanity,

With temperate aduice discounselled,

That they it past, and shortly gan descry

The land, to which their course they leueled;

When suddeinly a grosse fog ouerspred

With his dull vapour all that desert has,

And heauens chearefull face enueloped,

That all things one, and one as nothing was,

And this great Vniuerse seemd one confused mas.

35 Thereat they greatly were dismayd, ne wist

How to direct their way in darkenesse wide,

But feard to wander in that wastfull 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 oft did smight,

And sore annoyed, groping in that griesly night.

36 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 Bat, dayes enimy,

The ruefull Strich, still waiting on the bere,

The Whistler shrill, that who so heares, doth dy,

The hellish Harpies, prophets of sad destiny.

37 All those, and all that else does horrour breed,

About them flew, and fild their sayles with feare:

Yet stayd they not, but 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 plainly show.

Said then the Palmer, Lo where does appeare

The sacred soile, where all our perils grow;

Therefore, Sir knight, your ready armes about you throw.

38 He hearkned, and his armes about him tooke,

The whiles the nimble boate so well her sped,

That with her crooked keele the land she strooke,

Then forth the noble Guyon sallied,

And his sage Palmer, that him gouerned;

But th’other by his boate behind did stay.

They marched fairly forth, of nought ydred,

Both firmely armd for euery hard assay,

With constancy and care, gainst daunger and dismay.

39 Ere long they heard an hideous bellowing

Of many beasts, that roard outrageously,

As if that hungers point, or Venus sting

Had them enraged with fell surquedry;

Yet nought they feard, but past on hardily,

Vntill they came in view of those wild beasts:

Who all attonce, gaping full greedily,

And rearing fiercely their vpstarting crests,

Ran towards, to deuoure those vnexpected guests.

40 But soone as they approcht with deadly threat,

The Palmer ouer them his staffe vpheld,

His mighty staffe, that could all charmes defeat:

Eftsoones their stubborne courages were queld,

And high aduaunced crests downe meekely feld,

In stead of fraying, they them selues did feare,

And trembled, as them passing they beheld:

Such wondrous powre did in that staffe appeare,

All monsters to subdew to him, that did it beare.

41 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 reahnes inuade,

Through ghastly horrour, and eternall shade;

Th’infernall feends with it he can asswage,

And Orcus tame, whom nothing can perswade,

And rule the Furyes, when they most do rage:

Such vertue in his staffe had eke this Palmer sage.

42 Thence passing forth, they shortly do arriue,

Whereas the Bowre of Blisse was situate;

A place pickt out by choice of best aliue,

That natures worke by art can imitate:

In which what euer in this worldly state

Is sweet, and pleasing vnto liuing sense,

Or that may dayntiest fantasie aggrate,

Was poured forth with plentifull dispence,

And made there to abound with lauish affluence.

43 Goodly it was enclosed round about,

Aswell their entred guestes to keepe within,

As those vnruly beasts to hold without;

Yet was the fence thereof but weake and thin;

Nought feard their force, that fortilage to win,

But wisedomes powre, and temperaunces might.

By which the mightiest things efforced bin:

And eke the gate was wrought of substaunce light,

Rather for pleasure, then for battery or fight

44 Yt framed was of precious yuory,

That seemd a worke of admirable wit;

And therein all the famous history

Of Iason and Medœa was ywrit;

Her mighty charmes, her furious louing fit,

His goodly conquest of the golden fleece,

His falsed faith, and loue too lightly flit,

The wondred Argo, which in venturous peece

First through the Euxine seas bore all the flowr of Greece.

45 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;

And other where the snowy substaunce sprent

With vermeil, like the boyes bloud therein shed,

A piteous spectacle did represent,

And otherwhiles with gold besprinkeled;

Yt seemd th’enchaunted flame, which did Creüsa wed.

46 All this, and more might in that goodly gate

Be red; that euer open stood to all,

Which thither came: but in the Porch there sate

A comely personage of stature tall,

And semblaunce pleasing, more then naturall,

That trauellers to him seemd to entize;

His looser garment to the ground did fall,

And flew about his heeles in wanton wize,

Not fit for speedy pace, or manly exercize.

47 They in that place him Genius did call:

Not that celestiall powre, to whom the care

Of life, and generation of all

That liues, pertaines in charge particulare,

Who wondrous things concerning our welfare,

And straunge phantomes doth let vs oft forsee,

And oft of secret ill bids vs beware:

That is our Selfe, whom though we do not see,

Yet each doth in him selfe it well perceiue to bee.

48 Therefore a God him sage Antiquity

Did wisely make, and good Agdistes call:

But this same was to that quite contrary,

The foe of life, that good enuyes to all,

That secretly doth vs procure to fall,

Through guilefull semblaunts, which he makes vs see.

He of this Gardin had the gouernall,

And Pleasures porter was deuizd to bee,

Holding a staffe in hand for more formalitee.

49 With diuerse flowres he daintily was deckt,

And strowed round about, and by bis side

A mighty Mazer bowle of wine was set,

As if it had to him bene sacrifide;

Wherewith all new-come guests he gratifide:

So did he eke Sir Guyon passing by:

But he his idle curtesie defide,

And ouerthrew his bowle disdainfully;

And broke his staffe, with which he charmed semblants sly.

50 Thus being entred, they behold around

A large and spacious plaine, on euery side

Strowed with pleasauns, whose faire grassy ground

Mantled with greene, and goodly beautifide

With all the ornaments of Floraes pride,

Wherewith her mother Art, as halfe in scorne

Of niggard Nature, like a pompous bride

Did decke her, and too lauishly adorne,

When forth from virgin bowre she comes in th’early morne.

51 Thereto the Heauens alwayes Iouiall,

Lookt on them louely, still in stedfast state,

Ne suffred storme nor frost on them to fall,

Their tender buds or leaues to violate,

Nor scorching heat, nor cold intemperate

T’afflict the creatures, which therein did dwell,

But the milde aire with season moderate

Gently attempred, and disposd so well,

That still it breathed forth sweet spirit & holesome smell.

52 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

Faire Daphne Phoebus hart with loue did gore;

Or Ida, where the Gods lou’d to repaire,

When euer they their heauenly bowres forlore;

Or sweet Parnasse, the haunt of Muses faire;

Or Eden selfe, if ought with Eden mote compaire.

53 Much wondred Guyon at the faire 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,

Bridling his will, and maistering his might:

Till that he came vnto another gate,

No gate, but like one, being goodly dight

With boughes and braunches, which did broad dilate

Their clasping armes, in wanton wreathings intricate.

54 So fashioned a Porch with rare deuice,

Archt ouer head with an embracing vine,

Whose bounches hanging downe, seemed to entice

All passers by, to tast their lushious wine,

And did themselues into their hands incline,

As freely offering to be gathered:

Some deepe empurpled as the Hyacint,

Some as the Rubine, laughing sweetly red,

Some like faire Emeraudes, not yet well ripened.

55 And them amongst, some were of burnisht gold,

So made by art, to beautifie the rest,

Which did themselues emongst the leaues enfold,

As lurking from the vew of couetous guest,

That the weake bowes, with so rich load opprest,

Did bow adowne, as ouer-burdened.

Vnder that Porch a comely dame did rest,

Clad in faire weedes, but fowle disordered,

And garments loose, that seemd vnmeet for womanhed.

56 In her left hand a Cup of gold she held,

And with her right the riper fruit did reach,

Whole sappy liquor, that with fulnesse sweld,

Into her cup she scruzd, with daintie breach

Of her fine fingers, without fowle empeach,

That so faire wine-presse 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.

57 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 exceedingly was wroth,

Yet no’te the same amend, ne yet withstand,

But suffered him to passe, all were she loth;

Who not regarding her displeasure forward goth.

58 There the most daintie Paradise on ground,

It selfe doth offer to his sober eye,

In which all pleasures plenteously abound,

And none does others happinesse enuye:

The painted flowres, the trees vpshooting hye,

The dales for shade, the hilles for breathing space,

The trembling groues, the Christall running by;

And that, which all faire workes doth most aggrace,

The art, which all that wrought, appeared in no place.

59 One would haue thought, (so cunningly, the rude,

And scorned parts were mingled with the fine,)

That nature had for wantonesse ensude

Art, and that Art at nature did repine;

So striuing each th’other to vndermine,

Each did the others worke more beautifie;

So diff’ring both in willes, agreed in fine:

So all agreed through sweete diuersitie,

This Gardin to adorne with all varietie.

60 And in the midst of all, a fountaine stood,

Of richest substaunce, 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 imageree

Was ouer-wrought, and shapes of naked boyes,

Of which some seemd with liuely iollitee,

To fly about, playing their wanton toyes,

Whilest others did them selues embay in liquid ioyes.

61 And ouer all, of purest gold was spred,

A trayle of yuie in his natiue hew:

For the rich mettall was so coloured,

That wight, who did not well auis’d it yew,

Would surely deeme it to be yuie trew:

Low his lasciuious armes adown did creepe,

That themselues dipping in the siluer dew,

Their fleecy flowres they tenderly did steepe,

Which drops of Christall seemd for wantones to weepe.

62 Infinit streames 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 little 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.

63 And all the margent round about was set,

With shady Laurell trees, thence to defend

The sunny beames, which on the billowes bet,

And those which therein bathed, mote offend.

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 parts from vew of any, which them eyde.

64 Sometimes the one would lift the other quight

Aboue the waters, and then downe againe

Her plong, as ouer maistered 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’amarous sweet spoiles to greedy eyes reuele.

65 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 humour dropped downe apace.

Whom such when Guyon saw, he drew him neare,

And somewhat gan relent his earnest pace,

His stubborne brest gan secret pleasaunce to embrace.

66 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:

But th’other rather higher did arise,

And her two lilly paps aloft displayd,

And all, that might his melting hart entise

To her delights, she vnto him bewrayd:

The rest hid vnderneath, him more desirous made.

67 With that, the other likewise vp arose,

And her faire lockes, which formerly were bownd

Vp in one knot, 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 hid in lockes and waues from lookers theft,

Nought but her louely face she for his looking left.

68 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 spide the knight to slacke his pace,

Them to behold, and in his sparkling face

The secret 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 courage cold could reare.

69 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 a mis:

When thus the Palmer; Now Sir, well auise;

For here the end of all our trauell is:

Here wonnes Acrasia, whom we must surprise,

Else she will slip away, and all our drift despise.

70 Eftsoones they heard a most melodious sound,

Of all that mote 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, voyces, instruments, windes, waters, all agree.

71 The ioyous birdes shrouded in chearefull shade,

Their notes vnto the voyce 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.

72 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 thither bring:

There she had him now layd 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.

73 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:

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.

74 The whiles some one did chaunt this louely lay;

Ah see, who so faire thing doest faine to see,

In springing flowre the image of thy day;

Ah see the Virgin Rose, how sweetly shee

Doth first peepe forth with bashfull modestee,

That fairer seemes, the lesse ye see her may;

Lo see soone after, how more bold and free

Her bared bosome she doth broad display;

Loe see soone after, how she fades, and falles away.

75 So passeth, in the passing of a day,

Of mortall life the leafe, the bud, the flowre,

Ne more doth flourish after first decay,

That earst was sought to decke both bed and bowre,

Of many a Ladie, and many a Paramowre:

Gather therefore the Rose, whilest yet is prime,

For soone comes age, that will her pride deflowre:

Gather the Rose of loue, whilest yet is time,

Whilest louing thou mayst loued be with equall crime.

76 He ceast, and then gan all the quire of birdes

Their diuerse notes t’attune vnto his lay,

As in approuance of bis pleasing words.

The constant paire 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

That wanton Ladie, with her louer lose,

Whose sleepie head she in her lap did soft dispose.

77 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 vele 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 can not spin,

Nor the fine nets, which oft we wouen see

Of scorched deaw, do not in th’aire more lightly flee.

78 Her snowy brest was bare to readie spoyle

Of hungry eies, which n’ote therewith be fild,

And yet through languour of her late sweet toyle,

Few drops, more cleare then Nectar, forth distild,

That like pure Orient perles adowne it trild,

And her faire eyes sweet smyling in delight,

Moystened their fierie beames, with which she thrild

Fraile harts, yet quenched not; like starry light

Which sparckling on the silent waues, does seeme more bright.

79 The young man sleeping by her, seemd to bee

Some goodly swayne of honorable place,

That certes it great pittie was to see

Him his nobilitie so foule deface;

A sweet regard, and amiable grace,

Mixed with manly sternnesse did appeare

Yet sleeping, in his well proportiond face,

And on his tender lips the downy heare

Did now but freshly spring, and silken blossomes beare.

80 His warlike armes, the idle instruments

Of sleeping praise, were hong vpon a tree,

And his braue shield, full of gold moniments,

Was fowly ra'st, that none the signes might see;

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.

81 The noble Elfe, and carefull Palmer drew

So nigh them, minding nought, but lustfull game,

That suddein forth they on them rusht, and threw

A subtile net, which onely for the 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.

82 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 bight) he soone vntyde,

And counsell sage in steed thereof to him applyde.

83 But all those pleasant bowres and Pallace braue,

Guyon broke downe, with rigour pittilesse;

Ne ought their goodly workmanship might saue

Them from the tempest of his wrathfulnesse,

But that their blisse he turn'd to 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 fairest late, now made the fowlest place.

84 Then led they her away, and eke 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 laid;

But them the Palmer soone did pacify.

Then Guyon askt, what meant those beastes, which there did ly.

85 Said he, these seeming beasts are men indeed,

Whom this Enchauntresse hath transformed thus,

Whylome her louers, which her lusts 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.

86 Streight way he with his vertuous staffe them strooke,

And streight of beasts 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 Grille by name,

Repined greatly, and did him miscall,

That had from hoggish forme him brought to naturall.

87 Said 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,

To be a beast, and lacke intelligence.

To whom the Palmer thus, The donghill kind

Delights in filth and foule incontinence:

Let Grill be Grill, and haue his hoggish mind,

But let vs hence depart, whilest wether serues and wind.

THE THIRD BOOKE
OF THE
FAERIE QVEENE

CONTAYNING,
THE LEGBND OF BRITOMARTIS.
OR
OF CHASTITIE.

1 It falles me here to write of Chastity,

That fairest vertue, farre aboue the rest;

For which what needs me fetch from Faery

Forreine ensamples, it to haue exprest?

Sith it is shrined in my Soueraines brest,

And form’d so liuely in each perfect part,

That to all Ladies, which haue it profest,

Need but behold the pourtraict of her hart,

If pourtrayd it might be by any liuing art.

2 But liuing art may not least part expresse,

Nor life-resembling pencill it can paint,

All were it Zeuxis or Praxiteles:

His dædale hand would faile, and greatly faint,

And her perfections with his error taint:

Ne Poets wit, that passeth Painter farre

In picturing the parts of beautie daint,

So hard a workmanship aduenture darre,

For fear through want of words her excellence to marre.

3 How then shall I, Apprentice of the skill,

That whylome in diuinest wits did raine,

Presume so high to stretch mine humble quill?

Yet now my lucklesse lot doth me constraine

Hereto perforce. But ô dred Soueraine

Thus farre forth pardon, sith that choicest wit

Cannot your glorious pourtraict figure plaine

That I in colourd showes may shadow it,

And antique praises vnto present persons fit

4 But if in liuing colours, and right hew,

Your selfc you couet to see pictured,

Who can it doe more liuely, or more trew,

Then that sweet verse, with Nectar sprinckeled,

In which a gracious seruant pictured

His Cynthia, his heauens fairest h’ght?

That with his melting sweetnesse rauished,

And with the wonder of her beames bright,

My senses lulled are in slomber of delight.

5 But let that same delirious Poet lend

A little leaue vnto a rusricke Muse

To sing his mistresse prayse, and let him mend,

If ought amis her liking may abuse:

Ne let his fairest Cynthia refuse,

In mirrours more then one her selfe to see,

But either Gloriana let her chuse,

Or in Belphœbe fashioned to bee:

In th’one her rule, in th’other her rare chastitee.

CANTO I

Guyon encountreth Britomart,
   faire Florimell is chaced:
Duessaes traines and Malecastaes
   champions are defaced.

1 The famous Briton Prince and Faerie knight,

After long wayes and perilous paines endured,

Hauing their wearie limbes to perfect plight

Restord, and sory wounds right well recured,

Of the faire Alma greatly were procured,

To make there lenger soiourne and abode;

But when thereto they might not be allured,

From seeking praise, and deeds of armes abrode,

They courteous conge tooke, and forth together yode.

2 But the captiu’d Acrasia he sent,

Because of trauell long, a nigher way,

With a strong gard, all reskew to preuent,

And her to Faerie court safe to conuay,

That her for witnesse of his hard assay,

Vnto his Faerie Queene he might present:

But he himselfe betooke another way,

To make more triall of his hardiment,

And seeke aduentures, as he with Prince Arthur went.

3 Long so they trauelled through wastefull wayes,

Where daungers dwelt, and perils most did wonne,

To hunt for glorie and renowmed praise;

Full many Countries they did ouerronne,

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 grieue.

4 At last as through an open plaine they yode,

They spide a knight, that towards pricked fake,

And him beside an aged Squire there rode,

That seem’d to couch vnder his shield three-square,

As if that age bad him that burden spare,

And yield it those, that stouter could it wield:

He them espying, gan himselfe prepare,

And on his arme addresse his goodly shield

That bore a Lion passant in a golden field.

5 Which seeing good Sir Guyon, deare besought

The Prince of grace, to let him runne that turne.

He graunted: then the Faery quickly raught

His poinant speare, and sharpely gan to spurne

His fomy steed, whose fierie feete did burne

The verdant grasse, as he thereon did tread;

Ne did the other backe his foot returne,

But fiercely forward came withouten dread,

And bent bis dreadfull speare against the others head.

6 They bene ymet, and both their points arriued,

But Guyon droue so furious and fell,

That seem’d both shield & plate it would haue riued;

Nathelesse it bore his foe not from his sell,

But made him stagger, as he were not well:

But Guyon selfe, ere well he was aware,

Nigh a speares length behind his crouper fell,

Yet in his fall so well him selfe he bare,

That mischieuous mischance his life & limbes did spare.

7 Great shame and sorrow of that fall he tooke;

For neuer yet, sith warlike armes he bore,

And shiuering speare in bloudie field first shooke,

He found himselfe dishonored so sore.

Ah gentlest knight, that euer armour bore,

Let not thee grieue dismounted to haue beene,

And brought to ground, that neuer wast before;

For not thy fault, but secret powre vnseene,

That speare enchaunted was, which layd thee on the greene.

8 But weenedst thou what wight thee ouerthrew,

Much greater griefe and shamefuller regret

For thy hard fortune then thou wouldst renew,

That of a single damzell thou wert met

On equall plaine, and there so hard beset;

Euen the famous Britomart it was,

Whom straunge aduenture did from Britaine fet,

To seeke her louer (loue farre sought alas,)

Whose image she had seene in Venus looking glas.

9 Full of disdainefull wrath, he fierce vprose,

For to reuenge that foule reprochfull shame,

And snatching his bright sword began to close

With her on foot, and stoutly forward came;

Die 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.

10 And hasting towards him gan faire perswade,

Not to prouoke misfortune, nor to weene

His speares default to mend with cruell blade;

For by his mightie Science he had seene

The secret vertue of that weapon keene,

That mortall puissance mote not withstand:

Nothing on earth mote alwaies happie beene.

Great hazard were it, and aduenture fond,

To loose long gotten honour with one euill hond.

11 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 asswage,

And laid the blame, not to his carriage,

But to his starting steed, that swaru’d asyde,

And to the ill purueyance of his page,

That had his furnitures not firmely tyde:

So is his angry courage fairely pacifyde.

12 Thus reconcilement was betweene them knit,

Through goodly temperance, and affection chaste,

And either vowd with all their power and wit,

To let not others honour be defaste,

Of friend 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.

13 O goodly vsage of those antique times,

In which the sword was seruant vnto right;

When not for malice and contentious crimes,

But all for praise, and proofe of manly might,

The martiall brood accustomed to fight:

Then honour was the meed of victorie,

And yet the vanquished had no despight:

Let later age that noble vse enuie,

Vile rancour to auoid, and cruell surquedrie.

14 Long they thus trauelled in friendly wise,

Through countries waste, and eke well edifyde,

Seeking aduentures hard, to exercise

Their puissance, whylome full dernely tryde:

At length they came into a forrest wyde,

Whose hideous horror and sad trembling sound

Full griesly seem’d: Therein they long did ryde,

Yet tract of liuing creatures none they found,

Saue Beares, Lions, & Buls, which romed them around.

15 All suddenly out of the thickest brush,

Vpon a milke-white Palfrey all alone,

A goodly Ladie 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 fled so fast, that nothing mote him hold,

And scarse them leasure gaue, her passing to behold.

16 Still as she fled, her eye she backward threw,

As fearing euill, that pursewd her fast;

And her faire yellow locks behind her flew,

Loosely disperst with puffe of euery blast:

All as a blazing starre doth farre outcast

His hearie beames, and flaming lockes dispred,

At sight whereof the people stand aghast:

But the sage wisard telles, as he has red,

That it importunes death and dolefull drerihed.

17 So as they gazed after her a while,

Lo where a griesly Foster forth did rush,

Breathing out beastly lust her to defile:

His tyreling iade he fiercely forth did push,

Through thicke and thin, both ouer banke and bush

In hope her to attaine by hooke or crooke,

That from his gorie sides the bloud did gush:

Large were his limbes, and terrible his looke,

And in his clownish hand a sharp bore speare he shooke.

18 Which outrage when those gentle knights did see,

Full of great enuie 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.

19 The whiles faire Britomart, whose constant mind,

Would not so lightly follow beauties chace,

Ne reckt of Ladies Loue, did stay behind,

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 courage and stout hardiment;

Ne euill thing she fear’d, ne euill thing she ment.

20 At last as nigh out of the wood she came,

A stately Castle farre 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 plaine,

Mantled with greene, it selfe did spredden wyde,

On which she saw sixe knights, that did darraine

Fierce battell against one, with cruell might and maine.

21 Mainly they all attonce vpon him laid,

And sore beset on euery side around,

That nigh he breathlesse grew, yet nought dismaid,

Ne euer to them yielded foot of ground

All had he lost much bloud through many a wound,

But stoutly dealt his blowes, and euery way

To which he turned in his wrathfull stound,

Made them recoile, and fly from dred decay,

That none of all the sixe before, him durst assay.

22 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 a pace

Vnto his reskew, and with earnest cry,

Bad those same sixe forbeare that single enimy.

23 But to her cry they list not lenden eare,

Ne ought the more their mightie strokes surceasse,

But gathering him round 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.

24 Whereto that single knight did answere frame;

These sixe would me enforce by oddes of might,

To chaunge my liefe, and loue another Dame,

That death me liefer were, then such despight,

So vnto wrong to yield my wrested right:

For I loue one, the truest one on ground,

Ne list me chaunge; she th,’Errant Damzell bight,

For whose deare sake full many a bitter stownd,

I haue endur’d, and tasted many a bloudy wound.

25 Certes (said she) then bene ye sixe to blame,

To weene your wrong by force to iustifie:

For knight to leaue his Ladie were great shame,

That faitbfill is, and better were to die.

All losse is lesse, and lesse the infamie,

Then losse of loue to him, that loues but one;

Ne may loue be compeld by maisterie;

For soone as maisterie comes, sweet loue anone

Taketh his nimble wings, and soone away is gone.

26 Then spake one of those sixe, There dwelleth here

Within this castle wall a Ladie faire,

Whose soueraine beautie hath no liuing pere,

Thereto so bounteous and so debonaire,

That neuer any mote with her compaire.

She hath ordaind this law, which we approue,

That euery knight, which doth this way repaire,

In case he haue no Ladie, nor no loue,

Shall doe vnto her seruice neuer to remoue.

27 But if he haue a Ladie or a Loue,

Then must he her forgoe with foule defame,

Or else with vs by dint of sword approue,

That she is fairer, then our fairest Dame,

As did this knight, before ye hither came.

Perdie (said Britomart) the choise is hard:

But what reward had he, that ouercame?

He should aduaunced be to high regard,

(Said they) and haue our Ladies loue for his reward.

28 Therefore aread 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 wrongs 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.

29 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 (said 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.

30 Too well we see, (said they) and proue too well

Our faulty weaknesse, 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 liege men faith vnto you plight.

So vnderneath her feet their swords they mard,

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.

31 Long were it to describe the goodly frame,

And stately port of Castle Ioyeous,

(For so that Castle hight by commune name)

Where they were entertaind with curteous

And comely glee of many gracious

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.

32 But for to tell the sumptuous aray

Of that great chamber, should be labour lost:

For liuing wit, I weene, cannot display

The royall riches and exceeding cost,

Of euery pillour and of euery post;

Which all of purest bullion framed were,

And with great pearles and pretious stones embost,

That the bright glister of their beames cleare

Did sparckle forth great light, and glorious did appeare.

33 These straunger knights through passing, forth were led

Into an inner rowme, whose royaltee

And rich purueyance might vneath be red;

Mote Princes place beseeme so deckt to bee.

Which stately manner when as they did see,

The image of superfluous riotize,

Exceeding much the state of meane degree,

They greatly wondred, whence so sumptuous guize

Might be maintaynd, and each gan diuersely deuize.

34 The wals were round about apparelled

With costly clothes of Arras and of Toure,

In which with cunning hand was pourtrahed

The loue of Venus and her Paramoure

The faire 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.

35 Then with what sleights and sweet allurements she

Entyst the Boy, as well that art she knew,

And wooed him her Paramoure to be;

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.

36 And whilst he slept, she ouer him would spred

Her mantle, colour’d like the starry skyes,

And her soft arme lay vndemeath his hed,

And with ambrosiall kisses bathe his eyes;

And whilest 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 Pances trim,

And euer with sweet Nectar she did sprinkle him.

37 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 beasts, whose brutish pryde

Mote breede him scath vnwares: but all in vaine;

For who can shun the chaunce, that dest’ny doth onlaine?

38 Lo, where beyond he lyeth languishing,

Deadly engored of a great wild Bore,

And by his side the Goddesse groueling

Makes for him endlesse mone, and euermore

With her soft garment wipes away the gore,

Which staines his snowy skin with hatefull hew:

But when she saw no helpe might him restore,

Him to a dainty flowre she did transmew,

Which in that cloth was wrought, as if it liuely grew.

39 So was that chamber clad in goodly wize,

And round about it many beds were dight,

As whilome 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 Squires,

Dauncing and reueling both day and night,

And swimming deepe in sensuall desires,

And Cupid still emongst them kindled lustfull fires.

40 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 trim consort.

Which when those knights beheld, with scornefull eye,

They sdeigned such lasciuious disport,

And loath’d the loose demeanure of that wanton sort

41 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 lightly, and too often glaunce,

Without regard of grace, or comely amenaunce.

42 Long worke it were, and needlesse to deuize

Their goodly entertainement and great glee:

She caused them be led in curteous wize

Into a bowre, disarmed for to bee,

And cheared well with wine and spiceree:

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.

43 As when faire Cynthia, in darkesome night,

Is in a noyous cloud enueloped,

Where she may find the substaunce thin and light,

Breakes forth her siluer beames, and her bright hed

Discouers to the world discomfited;

Of the poore traueller, that went astray,

With thousand blessings she is heried;

Such was the beautie and the shining ray,

With which faire Britomart gaue light vnto the day.

44 And eke those six, which lately with her fought,

Now were disarmd, and did themselues present

Vnto her vew, and company vnsoght;

For they all seemed curteous 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 liegemen to this Lady free,

And her knights seruice ought, to hold of her in fee.

45 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;

Basciante did him selfe most curteous shew;

But fierce Bacchante seemd too fell and keene;

And yet in armes Noctante greater grew:

All were faire knights, and goodly well beseene,

But to faire Britomart they all but shadowes beene.

46 For she was full of amiable grace,

And manly terrour 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 errour fall;

As he, that hath espide a vermeill Rose,

To which sharpe thomes and breres the way forstall,

Dare not for dread his hardy hand expose,

But wishing it far off, his idle wish doth lose.

47 Whom when the Lady saw so faire a wight,

All ignoraunt of her contrary sex,

(For she her weend a fresh and lusty knight)

She greatly gan enamoured to wex,

And with vaine thoughts her falsed fancy vex:

Her fickle hart concerned hasty fire,

Like sparkes of fire, which fall in sclender flex,

That shortly brent into extreme desire,

And ransackt all her veines with passion entire.

48 Eftisoones she grew to great impatience

And into termes of open outrage brust,

That plaine discouered her incontinence,

Ne reckt she, 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 honour put to flight:

So shamelesse beauty soone becomes a loathly sight.

49 Faire Ladies, that to loue captiued arre,

And chaste desires do nourish in your mind,

Let not her fault your sweet affections marre,

Ne blot 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 alwayes bring forth bounteous deeds,

And in each gentle hart desire of honour breeds.

50 Nought so of loue this looser Dame did skill,

But as a coale to kindle fleshly flame,

Giuing the bridle to her wanton will,

And treading vnder foote her honest name:

Such loue is hate, and such desire is shame.

Still did she roue at her with crafty glaunce

Of her false eyes, that at her hart did ayme,

And told her meaning in her countenaunce;

But Britomart dissembled it with ignoraunce.

51 Supper was shortly dight and downe they sat,

Where they were serued with all sumptuous fare,

Whiles fruitfull Ceres, and Lyœus fat

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.

52 So when 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

To loose her warlike limbs and strong effort,

But when she mote not thereunto be wonne,

(For she her sexe vnder that straunge purport

Did vse to hide, and plaine apparaunce shonne:)

In plainer wise to tell her grieuaunce she begonne.

53 And all attonce discouered her desire

With sighes, and sobs, and plaints, & piteous griefe,

The outward sparkes of her inburning fire;

Which spent in vaine, at last she told her briefe,

That but if she did lend her short reliefe,

And do her comfort, she mote algates dye.

But the chaste damzell, that had neuer priefe

Of such malengine and fine forgerie,

Did easily beleeue her strong extremitie.

54 Full easie was for her to haue beliefe,

Who by self-feeling of her feeble sexe,

And by long triall of the inward griefe,

Wherewith imperious loue her hart did vexe,

Could iudge what paines do louing harts perplexe.

Who meanes no guile, beguiled soonest shall,

And to faire semblaunce doth light faith annexe;

The bird, that knowes not the false fowlers call,

Into his hidden net full easily doth fall.

55 For thy she would not in discourteise wise,

Scorne the faire offer of good will profest;

For great rebuke it is, loue to despise,

Or rudely sdeigne a gentle harts request;

But with faire countenaunce, as beseemed best,

Her entertaynd; nath’lesse she inly deemd

Her loue too light, to wooe a wandring guest:

Which she misconstruing, thereby esteemd

That from like inward fire that outward smoke had steemd.

56 Therewith a while she her flit fancy fed,

Till she mote winne fit time for her desire,

But yet her wound still inward freshly bled,

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 Basciomani gay,

With whom he meant to make his sport & courtly play.

57 Some fell to daunce, some fell to hazardry,

Some to make loue, some to make meriment,

As diuerse wits to diuers things apply;

And all the while faire Malecasta bent

Her crafty engins to her close intent.

By this th’eternall lampes, wherewith high loue

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.

58 High time it seemed then for euery wight

Them to betake vnto their kindly rest;

Eftsoones long waxen torches weren light,

Vnto their bowres to guiden euery guest:

Tho when the Britonesse saw all the rest

Auoided quite, she gan her selfe despoile,

And safe commit to her soft fethered nest,

Where through long watch, & late dayes weary toile,

She soundly slept, & carefull thoughts did quite assoile.

59 Now whenas all the world in silence deepe

Yshrowded was, and euery mortall wight

Was drowned in the depth of deadly sleepe,

Faire Malecasta, whose engrieued spright

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 scarlot mantle couered,

That was with gold and Ermines faire enueloped.

60 Then panting soft, and trembling euery ioynt,

Her fearfull feete towards the bowre she moued;

Where she for secret purpose did appoynt

To lodge the warlike mayd vnwisely loued,

And to her bed approching, first she prooued,

Whether she slept or wakt, with her soft hand

She softly felt, if any member mooued,

And lent her wary eare to vnderstand,

If any puffe of breath, or signe of sence she fond.

61 Which whenas none she fond, with easie shift,

For feare least her vnwares she should abrayd,

Th’embroderd quilt she lightly vp did lift,

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.

62 Where feeling one close couched by her side,

She lightly lept out of her filed bed,

And to her weapon ran, in minde to gride

The loathed leachour. But the Dame halfe ded

Through suddein feare and ghastly drerihed,

Did shrieke alowd, that through the house it rong,

And the whole family therewith adred,

Rashly out of their rouzed couches sprong,

And to the troubled chamber all in armes did throng.

63 And those six Knights that Ladies Champions,

And eke the Redcrosse knight ran to the stownd,

Halfe armd and hake vnarmd, with them attons:

Where when confusedly they came, they fownd

Their Lady lying on the sencelesse grownd;

On th’other side, they saw the warlike Mayd

All in her snow-white smocke, with locks vnbownd,

Threatning the point of her auenging blade,

That with so troublous terrour they were all dismayde.

64 About their Lady first they flockt arownd,

Whom hauing laid in comfortable couch,

Shortly they reard out of her frosen swownd;

And afterwards 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 bloudy Crosse.

65 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 intent 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 bloud thereout did weepe,

Which did her lilly smock with staines of vermeil steepe.

66 Wherewith 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:

Here, there, and euery where about her swayd

Her wrathfull steele, that none mote it abide;

And eke the Redcrosse knight gaue her good aid,

Ay ioyning foot to foot, and side to side,

That in short space their foes they haue quite terrifide.

67 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 vngentle trade

Was vsd of Knights and Ladies seeming gent:

So earely ere the grosse Earthes gryesy shade,

Was all dispent out of the firmament,

They tooke their steeds, & forth vpon their iourney went

CANTO II

The Redcrosse knight to Britomart
   describeth Artegall:
The wondrous myrrhour, by which she
in hue with him did fall.

1 Here haue I cause, in men iust blame to find,

That in their proper prayse too partiall bee,

And not indifferent to woman kind,

To whom no share in armes and cheualrie

They do impart, ne maken memorie

Of their braue gestes and prowesse martiall;

Scarse do they spare to one or two or three,

Rowme in their writs; yet the same writing small

Does all their deeds deface, and dims their glories all,

2 But by record of antique times I find,

That women wont in warres to beare most sway,

And to all great exploits 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 layd away:

They haue exceld in artes and pollicy,

That now we foolish men that prayse gin eke t’enuy.

3 Of warlike puissaunce in ages spent,

Be thou faire Britomart, whose prayse I write,

But of all wisedome be thou precedent,

O soueraigne Queene, whose prayse I would endite,

Endite I would as dewtie doth excite;

But ah my rimes too rude and rugged arre,

When in so high an obiect they do lite,

And striuing, fit to make, I feare do marre:

Thy selfe thy prayses tell, and make them knowen farre.

4 She trauelling with Guyon by the way,

Of sundry things faire purpose gan to find,

T’abridg their iourney long, and lingring day;

Mongst which it fell into that Faeries mind,

To aske this Briton Mayd, what vncouth wind,

Brought her into those parts, 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.

5 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 fit, did quake,

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 heauen fulmined;

At last the passion past she thus him answered.

6 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.

7 All my delight on deedes of armes is set,

To hunt out perils and aduentures hard,

By sea, by land, where so they may be met,

Onely for honour and for high regard,

Without respect of richesse or reward.

For such intent into these parts I came,

Withouten compasse, or withouten card,

Far from my natiue soyle, that is by name

The greater Britaine, here to seeke for prayse and fame.

8 Fame blazed hath, that here in Faery lond

Do many famous Knightes and Ladies wonne,

And many straunge aduentures to be fond,

Of which great worth and worship may be wonne;

Which I to proue, this voyage haue begonne.

But mote I weet of you, right curteous 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.

9 The word gone out, she backe againe would call,

As her repenting so to haue missayd,

But that he it vp-taking 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.

10 For thy great wonder were it, if such shame

Should euer enter in his bounteous thought,

Or euer do, that mote deseruen blame:

The noble courage neuer weeneth ought,

That may vnworthy of it selfe 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.

11 The royall Mayd woxe inly wondrous glad,

To heare her Loue so highly magnifide,

And ioyd that euer she affixed had,

Her hart on knight so goodly glorifide,

How euer finely she it faind to hide:

The louing mother, that nine monethes did beare,

In the deare closet of her painefull side,

Her tender babe, it seeing safe appeare,

Doth not so much reioyce, as she reioyced theare.

12 But to occasion him to further talke,

To feed her humour with his pleasing stile,

Her list in strifull termes with him to balke,

And thus replide, How euer, Sir, ye file

Your curteous tongue, his prayses to compile,

It ill beseemes a knight of gentle sort,

Such as ye haue him boasted, to beguile

A simple mayd, and worke so haynous tort,

In shame of knighthood, as I largely can report.

13 Let be 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 mollifie your mind,

(Said he) perhaps ye should it better find:

For hardy thing it is, to weene by might,

That man to hard conditions to bind,

Or euer hope to match in equall fight,

Whose prowesse paragon saw neuer liuing wight.

14 Ne soothlich is it easie for to read,

Where now on earth, or how he may be found;

For he ne wonneth in one certaine stead,

But restlesse walketh all the world around,

Ay doing things, that to his fame redound,

Defending Ladies cause, and Orphans right,

Where so he heares, that any doth confound

Them comfortlesse, through tyranny or might;

So is his soueraine honour raisde to heauens hight.

15 His feeling words 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 words are like to Magick art,

That doth the charmed Snake in slomber lay:

Such secret ease felt gentle Britomart,

Yet list the same efforce with faind gainesay;

So dischord oft in Musick makes the sweeter lay.

16 And said, Sir knight, these idle termes forbeare,

And sith it is vneath to find his haunt,

Tell me some markes, by which he may appeare,

If chaunce I him encounter parauaunt;

For perdie one shall other slay, or daunt:

What shape, what shield, what armes, what steed, what sted,

And what so else his person most may vaunt?

All which the Redcrosse knight to point ared,

And him in euery part before her fashioned.

17 Yet him in euery part before she knew,

How euer list her now her knowledge faine,

Sith him whilome in Britaine she did vew,

To her reuealed in a mirrhour plaine,

Whereof did grow her first engraffed paine;

Whose root and stalke so bitter yet did tast,

That but the fruit more sweetnesse did containe,

Her wretched dayes in dolour she mote wast,

And yield the pray of loue to lothsome death at last.

18 By strange occasion she did him behold,

And much more strangely gan to loue his sight,

As it in bookes hath written bene of old.

In Deheubarth that now South-wales is hight,

What time king Ryence raign’d, and dealed right,

The great Magitian Merlin had deuiz’d,

By his deepe science, and hell-dreaded might,

A looking glasse, right wondrously aguiz’d,

Whose vertues through the wyde world soone were

[solemniz’d.

19 It vertue had, to shew in perfect sight,

What euer thing was in the world contaynd,

Betwixt the lowest earth and heauens hight,

So that it to the looker appertaynd;

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 seem’d a world of glas.

20 Who wonders not, that reades so wonderous worke?

But who does wonder, that has red the Towre,

Wherein th’Ægyptian Phœo long did lurke

From all mens vew, that none might her discoure,

Yet she might all men vew out of her bowre?

Great Ptolomœe 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.

21 Such was the glassie 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;

Happie this Realme, had it remained euer since.

22 One day it fortuned, faire 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 a while therein she vewd in vaine;

Tho her auizing of the vertues rare,

Which thereof spoken were, she gan againe

Her to bethinke of, that mote to her selfe pertaine.

23 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

24 Eftsoones there was presented to her eye

A comely knight, all arm’d in complet wize,

Through whose bright ventayle lifted vp on hye

His manly face, that did Ms foes agrize,

And friends to termes of gentle truce entize,

Lookt foorth, as Phœbus face out of the east,

Betwixt two shadie mountaines doth arize;

Portly his person was, and much increast

Through his Heroicke grace, and honorable gest.

25 His crest was couered with a couchant Hound,

And all his armour seem’d of antique mould,

But wondrous massie and assured sound,

And round about yfretted all with gold,

In which there written was with cyphers old,

Achilles comes, which Arthegall did win.

And on his shield enueloped seuenfold

He bore a crowned litle Ermilin,

That deckt the azure field with her faire pouldred skin.

26 The Damzell well did vew his personage,

And liked well, ne further fastned not,

But went her way; ne her vnguilty age

Did weene, vnwares, that her vnlucky lot

Lay hidden in the bottome 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.

27 Thenceforth the feather in her loftie crest,

Ruffed of loue, gan lowly to auaile,

And her proud portance, 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 neither 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.

28 So soone as Night had with her pallid hew

Defast the beautie of the shining sky,

And reft from men the worlds desired vew,

She with her Nourse adowne to sleepe did lye;

But sleepe full farre 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 daintie couch with teares, which closely she did weepe.

29 And if that any drop of slombring rest

Did chaunce to still into her wearie spright,

When feeble nature felt her selfe opprest,

Streight way with dreames, and with fantasticke 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 faire visage, written in her hart.

30 One night, when she was tost with such vnrest,

Her aged Nurse, whose name was Glauce bight,

Feeling her leape out of her loathed nest,

Betwixt her feeble armes her quickly keight,

And downe againe in her warme bed her dight;

Ah my deare daughter, ah my dearest dread,

What vncouth fit (said she) what euill plight

Hath thee opprest, and with sad drearyhead

Chaunged thy liuely cheare, and liuing made thee dead?

31 For not of nought these suddeine 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 youthes fairest flowre, but lose

Both leafe and fruit, both too vntimely shed,

As one in wilfull bale for euer buried.

32 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 griefe,

Sorrow is heaped in thy hollow chest,

Whence forth it breakes in sighes and anguish rife,

As smoke and sulphure mingled with confused strife.

33 Aye 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,

Then I auow by this most sacred head

Of my deare foster child, 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.

34 So hauing said, her twixt her armes twaine

She straightly straynd, and colled tenderly,

And euery trembling ioynt, and euery vaine

She softly felt, and rubbed busily,

To doe the frosen cold away to fly;

And her faire deawy eies with kisses deare

She oft did bath, and oft againe did dry;

And euer her iniportund, not to feare

To let the secret of her hart to her appeare.

35 The Damzell pauzd, and then thus fearefully;

Ah Nurse, what needeth thee to eke my paine?

Is not enough, that I alone doe dye,

But it must doubled be with death of twaine?

For nought for me but death there doth remaine.

O daughter deare (said she) despaire 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.

36 But mine is not (quoth she) like others wound;

For which no reason can find remedy.

Was neuer such, but mote the like be found,

(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 sky

Can doe (said she) that, which cannot be donne.

Things oft impossible (quoth she) seeme, ere begonne.

37 These idle words (said she) doe nought asswage

My stubborne smart, but more annoyance breed,

For no no vsuall fire, no vsuall rage

It is, ô Nurse, which on my life doth feed,

And suckes the bloud, which from my hart doth bleed.

But since thy faithfull zeale 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.

38 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 cruell 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.

39 Sithens it hath infixed faster hold

Within my bleeding bowels, and so sore

Now ranckleth in this same fraile fleshly mould,

That all mine entrailes flow with poysnous gore.

And th’vlcer groweth daily more and more;

Ne can my running sore find remedie,

Other then my hard fortune to deplore,

And languish as the leafe falne from the tree,

Till death make one end of my dayes and miserie.

40 Daughter (said she) what need ye be dismayd,

Or why make ye such Monster of your mind?

Of much more vncouth thing I was affrayd;

Of filthy lust, contrarie vnto kind:

But this affection nothing straunge I find;

For who with reason can you aye reproue,

To loue the semblant pleasing most your mind,

And yield your heart, whence ye cannot remoue?

No guilt in you, but in the tyranny of loue.

41 Not so th’Arabian Myrrhe did set her mind;

Nor so did Biblis spend her pining hart,

But lou’d their natiue flesh against all kind,

And to their purpose vsed wicked art:

Yet playd Pasiphaë a more monstrous part,

That lou’d a Bull, and learnd a beast to bee;

Such shamefull lusts who loaths not, which depart

From course of nature and of modestie?

Sweet loue such lewdnes bands from his faire companie.

42 But thine my Deare (welfare thy heart my deare)

Though strange beginning had, yet fixed is

On one, that worthy may perhaps appeare;

And certes seemes bestowed not amis:

Ioy thereof haue thou and eternall blis.

With that vpleaning on her elbow weake,

Her alablaster brest she soft did kis,

Which all that while she felt to pant and quake,

As it an Earth-quake were; at last she thus bespake.

43 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.

For they, how euer shamefull and vnkind,

Yet did possesse their horrible intent:

Short end of sorrowes they thereby did find;

So was their fortune good, though wicked were their mind.

44 But wicked fortune mine, though mind 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 child,

Who hauing vewed in a fountaine shere

His face, was with the loue thereof beguild;

I fonder loue a shade, the bodie farre exild.

45 Nought like (quoth she) for that same wretched boy

Was of himselfe the idle 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 bodie hath in powre:

That bodie, wheresoeuer that it light,

May learned be by cyphers, or by Magicke might.

46 But if thou may with reason yet represse

The growing euill, ere it strength haue got,

And thee abandond wholly doe possesse,

Against it strongly striue, and yield thee not,

Till thou in open field adowne be smot.

But if the passion mayster thy fraile might,

So that needs loue or death must be thy lot,

Then I auow to thee, by wrong or right

To compasse thy desire, and find that loued knight.

47 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

The clothes about her round with busie ayd;

So that at last a little creeping sleepe

Surprisd her sense: She therewith well apayd,

The drunken lampe downe in the oyle did steepe,

And set her by to watch, and set her by to weepe.

48 Earely the morrow next, before that day

His ioyous face did to the world reueale,

They both vprose and tooke their readie way

Vnto the Church, their prayers to appeale,

With great deuotion, and with litle zeale:

For the faire Damzell 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.

49 Returned home, the royall Infant fell

Into her former fit; for why, no powre

Nor guidance of her selfe in her did dwell.

But th’aged Nurse her calling to her bowre,

Had gathered Rew, and Sauine, and the flowre

Of Camphora, and Calamint, and Dill,

All which she in a earthen Pot did poure,

And to the brim with Colt wood did it fill,

And many drops of milke and bloud through it did spill.

50 Then taking thrise three haires from off her head,

Them trebly breaded in a threefold lace,

And round about the pots mouth, bound the thread,

And after hauing whispered a space

Certaine sad words, with hollow voice and bace,

She to the virgin said, thrise said she it;

Come daughter come, come; spit vpon my face,

Spit thrise vpon me, thrise vpon me spit;

Th’vneuen number for this businesse is most fit.

51 That sayd, her round about she from her turnd,

She turned her contrarie to the Sunne,

Thrise 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 idle charmes so lightly may remoue,

That well can witnesse, who by triall it does proue.

52 Ne ought it mote the noble Mayd auayle,

Ne slake the furie of her cruell flame,

But that she still did waste, and still did wayle,

That through long languour, and hart-burning branie

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.

CANTO III

Merlin bewrayes to Britomart,
   the state of Artegall.
And shewes the famous Progeny
   which from them springen shall.

1 Most sacred fire, 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;

Not that same, which doth base affections moue

In brutish minds, and filthy lust inflame,

But that sweet fit, that doth true beautie loue,

And choseth vertue for his dearest Dame,

Whence spring all noble deeds and neuer dying fame:

2 Well did Antiquitie a God thee deeme,

That ouer mortall minds 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 wondrous moniments.

3 But thy dread darts 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 afterwards did rayse

Most famous fruits of matrimoniall bowre,

Which through the earth haue spred their liuing prayse,

That fame in trompe of gold eternally displayes

4 Begin then, ô my dearest sacred Dame,

Daughter of Phoebus and of Memorie,

That doest ennoble with immortall name

The warlike Worthies, from antiquitie,

In thy great volume of Eternitie:

Begin, ô Clio, and recount from hence

My glorious Soueraines goodly auncestrie,

Till that by dew degrees and long protense,

Thou haue it lastly brought vnto her Excellence.

5 Full many wayes within her troubled mind,

Old Glance cast, to cure this Ladies griefe:

Full many waies she sought, but none could find,

Nor herbes, nor charmes, nor counsell, that is chiefe

And choisest med’cine for sicke harts reliefe;

For thy great care she tooke, and greater feare,

Least that it should her turne to foule repriefe,

And sore reproch, when so her father deare

Should of his dearest daughters hard misfortune heare.

6 At last she her auisd, 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 meanes his loue might best be wrought:

For though beyond the Africk lsmaell,

Or th’Indian Peru he were, she thought

Him forth through infinite endeuour to haue sought

7 Forthwith themselues disguising both in straunge

And base attyre, 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 counseld with his sprights encompast round.

8 And if thou euer happen that same way

To trauell, goe to see that dreadfull place:

It is an hideous hollow caue (they say)

Vnder a rocke that lyes a litle space

From the swift Barry, tombling downe apace,

Emongst the woodie hilles of Dyneuowre:

But dare thou not, I charge, in any cace,

To enter into that same balefull Bowre,

For fear the cruell Feends should thee vnwares deuowre.

9 But standing high aloft, low lay thine eare,

And there such ghastly noise of yron chaines,

And brasen Caudrons thou shalt rombling heare,

Which thousand sprights with long enduring paines

Doe tosse, that it will stonne thy feeble braines,

And oftentimes great grones, and grieuous stounds,

When too huge toile and labour them constraines:

And oftentimes loud strokes, and ringing sounds

From vnder that deepe Rocke most horribly rebounds.

10 The cause some say is this: A litle while

Before that Merlin dyde, he did intend,

A brasen wall in compas to compile

About Cairmardin, and did it commend

Vnto these Sprights, to bring to perfect end.

During which worke the Ladie of the Lake,

Whom long he lou’d, for him in hast did send,

Who thereby forst his workemen to forsake,

Them bound till his returne, their labour not to slake.

11 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 worke forbeare,

So greatly bis commaundement they feare,

But there doe toyle and trauell day and night,

Vntill that brasen wall they vp doe reare:

For Merlin had in Magicke more insight,

Then euer him before or after liuing wight.

12 For he by words 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 darkesome night he eke could turne to day:

Huge hostes of men he could alone dismay,

And hostes of men of meanest things could frame,

When so him list his enimies to fray:

That to this day for terror of his fame,

The feends do quake, when any him to them does name.

13 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 Ladie Nonne, that whilome hight

Matilda, daughter to Pubidius,

Who was the Lord of Mathrauall by right,

And coosen vnto king Ambrosius:

Whence he indued was with skill so maruellous.

14 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 hardie Mayd (with loue to trend)

First entering, the dreadfull Mage there found

Deepe busied bout worke of wondrous end,

And writing strange characters in the ground,

With which the stubborn feends he to his seruice bound.

15 He nought was moued at their entrance bold:

For of their comming well he wist afore,

Yet list them bid their businesse to vnfold,

As if ought in this world in secret store

Were from him hidden, or vnknowne of yore.

Then Glauce thus, let not it thee offend,

That we thus rashly through thy darkesome dore,

Vnwares haue prest: for either fatall end,

Or other mightie cause vs two did hither send.

16 He bad tell on; And then she thus began.

Now haue three Moones with borrow’d brothers light,

Thrice shined faire, and thrice seem’d 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 cannot read aright:

But this I read, that but if remedee,

Thou her afford, full shortly I her dead shall see.

17 Therewith th’Enchaunter softly gan to smyle

At her smooth speeches, weeting inly well,

That she to him dissembled womanish guyle,

And to her said, Beldame, by that ye tell,

More need of leach-craft hath your Damozell,

Then of my skill: who helpe may haue elsewhere,

In vaine seekes wonders out of Magicke spell.

Th’old woman wox half blanck, those words to heare;

And yet was loth to let her purpose plaine appeare.

18 And to him said, If 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.

19 The wisard could no lenger beare her bord,

But brusting forth in laughter, to her sayd;

Glauce, what needs this colourable word,

To cloke the cause, that hath it selfe bewrayd?

Ne ye faire Britomartis, thus arayd,

More hidden are, then Sunne in cloudy vele;

Whom thy good fortune, hauing fate obayd,

Hath hither brought, for succour to appele:

The which the powres to thee are pleased to reuele.

20 The doubtfull Mayd, seeing her selfe descryde,

Was all abasht, and her pure yuory

Into a cleare Carnation suddeine dyde;

As faire Aurora rising hastily,

Doth by her blushing tell, that she did lye

All night in old Tithonus frosen bed,

Whereof she seemes ashamed inwardly.

But her old Nourse was nought dishartened,

But vauntage made of that, which Merlin had ared.

21 And sayd, Sith then thou knowest all our griefe,

(For what doest not thou know?) of grace I pray,

Pitty our plaint, and yield vs meet reliefe.

With that the Prophet still awhile did stay,

And then his spirite thus gan forth display;

Most noble Virgin, that by fatall lore

Hast learn’ d to loue, let no whit thee dismay

The hard begin, that meets thee in the dore,

And with sharpe fits thy tender hart oppresseth sore.

22 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 heauens bight forth stretched bee.

For from thy wombe a famous Progenie

Shall spring, out of the auncient Troian blood,

Which shall reuiue the sleeping memorie

Of those same antique Peres, the heauens brood,

Which Greeke and Asian riuers stained with their blood.

23 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 forrein foe, that comes from farre,

Till vniuersall peace compound all ciuill iarre.

24 It was not, Britomart, thy wandring eye,

Glauncing vnwares in charmed looking glas,

But the streight course of heauenly destiny,

Led with eternall prouidence, that has

Guided thy glaunce, to bring his will to pas:

Ne is thy fate, ne is thy fortune ill,

To loue the prowest knight, that euer was.

Therefore submit thy wayes vnto his will,

And do by all dew meanes thy destiny fulfill.

25 But read (said Glauce) thou Magitian

What meanes shall she out seeke, or what wayes take?

How shall she know, how shall she find the man?

Or what needs her to toyle, sith fates can make

Way for themselues, their purpose to partake?

Then Merlin thus; Indeed the fates are firme,

And may not shrinck, though all the world do shake:

Yet ought mens good endeuours them confirme,

And guide the heauenly causes to their constant terme.

26 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 whilome by false Faries stolne away,

Whiles 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.

27 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 aide his countrey, to withstand

The powre of forrein Paynims, which inuade thy land.

28 Great aid 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 secret foes, that him shall make in mischiefe fall.

29 With thee yet shall he leaue for memory

Of his late puissaunce, his Image dead,

That liuing him in all actiuity

To thee shall represent. He from the head

Of his coosin 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 bloudy field to fight,

30 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 faire accordaunce make:

And if he then with victorie can lin,

He shall his dayes with peace bring to his earthly In.

31 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 battels 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.

32 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 sundry kings to do their homage seuerall.

33 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 subdewd, 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.

34 He in his furie all shall ouerrunne,

And holy Church with faithlesse hands deface,

That thy sad people vtterly fordonne,

Shall to the vtmost mountaines fly apace:

Was neuer so great wast in any place,

Nor so fowle outrage doen by liuing men:

For all thy Cities they shall sacke and race,

And the greene grasse, that groweth, they shall bren,

That euen the wild beast shall dy in starued den.

35 Whiles thus thy Britons do 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.

36 But after him, Cadwallin mightily

On his sonne Edwin all those wrongs shall wreake;

Ne shall auaile the wicked sorcery

Of false Pellite, his purposes to breake,

But him shall slay, and on a gallowes bleake

Shall giue th’enchaunter his vnhappy hire

Then shall the Britons, late dismayd and weake,

From their long vassalage gin to respire,

And on their Paynim foes auenge their ranckled ire.

37 Ne shall he yet his wrath so mitigate,

Till both the sonnes of Edwin he haue slaine,

Offricke and Osricke, twinnes vnfortunate,

Both slaine in battell vpon Layburne plaine,

Together with the king of Louthiane,

Hight Adin, and the king of Orkeny,

Both ioynt partakers of their fatall paine:

But Penda, fearefull of like desteny,

Shall yield him selfe his liegeman, and sweare fealty.

38 Him shall he make his fatall Instrument,

T’afflict the other Saxons vnsubdewd;

He marching forth with fury insolent

Against the good king Oswald, who indewd

With heauenly powre, and by Angels reskewd,

All holding crosses in their hands on hye,

Shall him defeate withouten bloud imbrewd:

Of which, that field for endlesse memory,

Shall Heuenfield be cald to all posterity.

39 Whereat Cadwallin wroth, shall forth issew,

And an huge hoste into Northumber lead,

With which he godly Oswald shall subdew,

And crowne with martyrdome 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 do him fowly dye,

But shall with gifts his Lord Cadwallin pacify.

40 Then shall Cadwallin dye, 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 heauen it selfe shall their successe enuy,

And them with plagues and murrins pestilent

Consume, till all their warlike puissaunce be spent.

41 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, returning to his natiue place,

Shalbe by vision staid from his intent:

For th’heauens haue decreed, to displace

The Britons, for their sinnes dew punishment,

And to the Saxons ouer-giue their gouernment.

42 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 victours scorne,

Banisht from Princely bowre to wastfull wood:

O who shall helpe me to lament, and mourne

The royall seed, the antique Troian blood,

Whose Empire lenger here, then’euer any stood.

43 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;

Ah but will heauens 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 defast,

And quite from of the earth their memory be rast?

44 Nay but the terme (said he) is limited,

That in this thraldome Britons shall abide,

And the iust reuolution measured,

That they as Straungers shalbe notifide.

For twise foure hundreth yeares shalbe supplide,

Ere they to former rule restor’d shalbee,

And their importune fates all satisfide:

Yet during this their most obscuritee,

Their beames shall oft breake forth, that men them faire may

[see.

45 For Rhodoricke, whose surname shalbe Great,

Shall of him selfe a braue ensample shew,

That Saxon kings his friendship shall intreat;

And Howell Dha shall goodly well indew

The saluage minds with skill of iust and trew;

Then Griffith Conan also shall vp reare

His dreaded head, and the old sparkes renew

Of natiue courage, that his foes shall feare,

Least backe againe the kingdome he from them should beare.

46 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 ouerronne

The fruitfull plaines, and with fell cruelty,

In their auenge, tread downe the victours surquedry.

47 Yet shall a third both these, and thine subdew;

There shall a Lyon from the sea-bord wood

Of Neustria come roring, with a crew

Of hungry 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 bis young ones shall diuide with bountyhed.

48 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,

Be 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 royall maiesty and soueraigne name;

So shall the Briton bloud their crowne againe reclame.

49 Thenceforth eternall vnion shall be made

Betweene the nations different afore,

And sacred Peace shall louingly perswade

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 learne to fall.

50 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:

Which suddein fit, and halfe extatick stoure

When the two fearefull women saw, they grew

Greatly confused in behauioure;

At last the fury past, to former hew

Hee turnd againe, and chearefull looks as earst did shew.

51 Then, when them selues they well instructed had

Of all, that needed them to be inquird,

They both concerning 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 deuise,

And diuerse plots did frame, to maske in strange disguise.

52 At last the Nourse in her foolhardy wit

Conceiu’d a bold deuise, and thus bespake;

Daughter, I deeme that counsell 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, whom he lately brake

Beside Cayr Verolame, in victorious fight,

That now all Britanie doth burne in armes bright.

53 That therefore nought our passage may empeach,

Let vs in feigned armes our selues disguize,

And our weake hands (whom need new strength shall teach)

The dreadfull speare and shield to exercize:

Ne certes daughter that same warlike wize

I weene, would you misseeme; for ye bene tall,

And large of limbe, t’atchieue an hard emprize,

Ne ought ye want, but skill, which practize small

Will bring, and shortly make you a mayd Martiall.

54 And sooth, it ought your courage much inflame,

To heare so often, in that royall hous,

From whence to none inferiour ye came:

Bards tell of many women valorous

Which haue full many feats aduenturous

Performd, in paragone of proudest men:

The bold Bunduca, whose victorious

Exploits made Rome to quake, stout Guendolen,

Renowmed Martia, and redoubted Emmilen.

55 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 bloudy plaine,

And had not Carados her hand withheld

From rash reuenge, she had him surely slaine,

Yet Carados himselfe from her escapt with paine.

56 Ah read, (quoth Britomart) how is she hight?

Faire Angela (quoth she) men do her call,

No whit lesse faire, then terrible in fight:

She hath the leading of a Martiall

And mighty people, dreaded more then all

The other Saxons, which do for her sake

And loue, themselues of her name Angles call.

Therefore faire Infant her ensample make

Vnto thyselfe, and equall courage to thee take.

57 Her harry words so deepe into the mynd

Of the young Damzell sunke, that great desire

Of warlike armes in her forthwith they tynd,

And generous stout courage did inspire,

That she resolu’d, vnweeting to her Sire,

Aduent’rous knighthood on her selfe to don,

And counseld with her Nourse, her Maides attire

To turne into a massy habergeon,

And bad her all things put in readinesse anon.

58 Th’old woman nought, that needed, did omit;

But all things did conueniently puruay:

It fortuned (so time their turne did fit)

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 well beseene.

59 The same, with all the other ornaments,

King Ryence caused to be hanged hy

In his chiefe Church, for endlesse moniments

Of his successe and gladfull victory:

Of which her selfe auising readily,

In th’euening late old Glaucee thither led

Faire Britomart, and that same Armory

Downe taking, her therein appareled,

Well as she might, and with braue bauldrick garnished.

60 Beside those armes there stood a mighty speare,

Which Bladud made by Magick art of yore,

And vsd the same in battell aye to beare;

Sith which it had bin 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.

61 Thus when she had the virgin all arayd,

Another harnesse, which did hang thereby,

About her selfe she dight, that the young Mayd

She might in equall armes accompany,

And as her Squire attend her carefully:

Tho to their ready Steeds they clombe full light,

And through back wayes, that none might them espy,

Couered with secret cloud of silent night,

Themselues they forth conuayd, & passed forward right

62 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 things discourses to dilate,

But most of Arihegall, and his estate.

At last their wayes so fell, that they mote part:

Then each to other well, affectionate,

Friendship professed with vnfained hart,

The Redcrosse knight diuerst, but forth rode Britomart.

CANTO IV

Bold Marinell of Britomart,
   Is throwne on the Rich strond:
Faire Florimell of Arthur is
   Long followed, but not fond.

1 Where is the Antique glory now become,

That whilome wont in women to appeare?

Where be the braue atchieuements doen by some?

Where be the battels, where the shield and 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?

Bene they all dead, and laid in dolefull herse?

Or doen they onely sleepe, and shall againe reuerse?

2 If they be dead, then woe is me therefore:

But if they sleepe, ô 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 bloud so oft in Troian plaine;

But when I read, how stout Debora strake

Proud Sisera, and how Camill’ hath slaine

The huge Orsilochus, I swell with great disdaine.

3 Yet these, and all that else had puissaunce,

Cannot with noble Britomart compare,

Aswell for glory of great valiaunce,

As for pure chastitie and vertue rare,

That all her goodly deeds do well declare.

Well worthy stock, from which the branches sprong,

That in late yeares so faire a blossome bare,

As thee, ô Queene, the matter of my song,

Whose lignage from this Lady I deriue along.

4 Who when through speaches with the Redcrosse knight,

She learned had th’estate of Arthegall,

And in each point her selfe informd aright,

A friendly 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 alwayes of his paines he made the chiefest meed.

5 But Britomart kept on her former course,

Ne euer dofte her armes, but all the way

Grew pensiue through that amorous discourse,

By which the Redcrosse knight did earst display

Her louers shape, and cheualrous aray;

A thousand thoughts she fashioned in her mind,

And in her feigning fancie did pourtray

Him such, as fittest she for loue could find,

Wise, warlike, personable, curteous, and kind.

6 With such selfe-pleasing thoughts her wound she fed,

And thought so to beguile her grieuous smart;

But so her smart was much more grieuous bred,

And the deepe wound more deepe 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 guidaunce of her blinded guest,

Till that to the sea-coast at length she her addrest.

7 There she alighted from her light-foot beast,

And sitting downe vpon the rocky shore,

Bad her old Squire 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.

8 Huge sea of sorrow, and tempestuous griefe,

Wherein my feeble barke is tossed long,

Far from the hoped hauen of reliefe,

Why do thy cruell billowes beat so strong,

And thy moyst mountaines each on others throng,

Threatning to swallow vp my fearefull life?

O do thy cruell wrath and spightfull wrong

At length allay, and stint thy stormy strife,

Which in these troubled bowels raignes, & rageth rife.

9 For else my feeble vessell crazd, and crackt

Through thy strong buffets and outrageous blowes,

Cannot endure, but needs 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 Pilot hath a restlesse mind

And fortune Boteswaine no assuraunce knowes,

But saile withouten starres, gainst tide and wind:

How can they other do, sith both are bold and blind?

10 Thou God of winds, 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,

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 auow to hallow vnto thee.

11 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 wombe, to be in heauen enrold.

12 Thus as she her recomforted, she spyde,

Where farre away one all in armour bright,

With hastie 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 dustie path;

Loue and despight attonce her courage kindled hath.

13 As when a foggy mist hath ouercast

The face of heauen, and the cleare aire engrost,

The world in darkenesse dwels, till that at last

The watry Southwinde from the seabord cost

Vpblowing, doth disperse the vapour lo’st,

And poures it selfe forth in a stormy showre;

So the faire Britomart hauing disclo’st

Her dowdy care into a wrathfull stowre,

The mist of griefe dissolu’d, did into vengeance powre.

14 Eftsoones her goodly shield addressing faire,

That mortall speare she in her hand did take,

And vnto battell did her selfe prepaire.

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 hast might,

Least afterwards it be too late to take thy flight.

15 Ythrild with deepe disdaine of his proud threat,

She shortly thus; Fly they, that need to fly;

Words fearen babes. I meane not thee entreat

To passe; but maugre thee will passe or dy.

Ne lenger stayd for th’other to reply,

But with sharpe speare 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 crowne.

16 But she againe him in the shield did smite

With so fierce furie and great puissaunce,

That through his threesquare scuchin percing quite,

And through his mayled 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 sandie shore,

He tombled on an heape, and wallowd in his gore.

17 Like as the sacred Oxe, that carelesse stands,

With gilden hornes, and flowry girlonds crownd,

Proud of his dying honor and deare bands,

Whiles th’altars fume with frankincense arownd,

All suddenly with mortall stroke astownd,

Doth groueling fall, and with his streaming gore

Distaines the pillours, and the holy grownd,

And the fire flowres, that decked him afore;

So fell proud Marinell vpon the pretious shore.

18 The martiall Mayd stayd not him to lament,

But forward rode, and kept her readie 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.

19 Whiles thus he lay in deadly stonishment,

Tydings hereof came to his mothers eare;

His mother was the blacke-browd Cymoent,

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 asleepe in secret wheare,

As he by chaunce did wander that same way,

Was taken with her loue, and by her closely lay.

20 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 mightie 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 battell with the Sea-nymphes sonne.

21 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 aduance his name and glorie 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 wombes ybore.

22 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 greedie gulfe deuoured deepe,

And him enriched through the ouerthrow

And wreckes of many wretches, which did weepe,

And often waile their wealth, which he from them did keepe.

23 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 else 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 elsewheare,

24 Thereto he was a doughtie 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

Least his too haughtie hardines might reare

Some hard mishap, in hazard of his life:

For thy she oft him counseld to forbeare

The bloudie battell, and to stirre vp strife,

But after all his warre, to rest his wearie knife.

23 And for his more assurance, she inquir’d

One day of Proteus by his mightie spell,

(For Proteus was with prophecie inspir’d)

Her deare sonnes destinie 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 strange and stout him should dismay, or kill.

26 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 faire Ladies loue did fly;

Yet many Ladies faire did oft complaine,

That they for loue of him would algates dy:

Dy, who so list for him, he was loues enimy.

27 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 fleshly arme.

His mother bad him womens loue to hate,

For she of womans force did feare no harme;

So weening to haue arm’d him, she did quite disarme.

28 This was that woman, this that deadly wound,

That Proteus prophecide should him dismay,

The which his mother vainely did expound,

To be hart-wounding loue, which should assay

To bring her sonne vnto his last decay.

So tickle be the termes of mortall state,

And full of subtile sophismes, which do play

With double senses, and with false debate,

T’approue the vnknowen purpose of eternall fate.

29 Too true the famous Marinell it fownd,

Who through late triall, on that wealthy Strond

Inglorious now lies in senselesse swownd,

Through heauy stroke of Britomartis hond.

Which when his mother deare did vnderstond,

And heauy tydings heard, whereas she playd

Amongst her watry sisters by a pond,

Gathering sweet daffadillyes, to haue made

Gay girlonds, from the Sun their forheads faire to shade.

30 Eftsoones both flowres and girlonds farre away

She flong, and her faire deawy lockes yrent,

To sorrow huge she turnd her former play,

And gamesom merth to grieuous dreriment:

She threw her selfe downe on the Continent,

Ne word did speake, but lay as in a swowne,

Whiles all her sisters did for her lament,

With yelling outcries, and with shrieking sowne;

And euery one did teare her girlond from her crowne.

31 Soone as she vp out of her deadly fit

Arose, she bad her charet to be brought,

And all her sisters, that with her did sit,

Bad eke attonce their charets to be sought;

Tho full of bitter griefe and pensiue thought,

She to her wagon clombe; clombe all the rest,

And forth together went, with sorrow fraught.

The waues obedient to their beheast,

Them yielded readie passage, and their rage surceast

32 Great Neptune stood amazed at their sight,

Whiles on his broad round backe they softly slid

And eke himselfe mournd at their mournfull plight,

Yet wist not what their wailing ment, yet did

For great compassion of their sorrow, bid

His mightie waters to them buxome bee:

Eftsoones the roaring billowes still abid,

And all the griesly Monsters of the See

Stood gaping at their gate, and wondred them to see.

33 A teme of Dolphins raunged in aray,

Drew the smooth charet of sad Cymoent;

They were all taught by Triton, to obay

To the long raines, at her commaundement:

As swift as swallowes, on the waues they went,

That their broad flaggie finnes no fome did reare,

Ne bubbling roundell they behind them sent;

The rest of other fishes drawen weare,

Which with their finny oars the swelling sea did sheare.

34 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 feet vpon the stony ground:

And comming to the place, where all in gore

And cruddy bloud enwallowed they found

The lucklesse Marinell, lying in deadly swound;

35 His mother swowned thrise, and the third time

Could scarce recouered be out of her paine;

Had she not bene deuoyd of mortall slime,

She should not then haue bene reliu’d againe,

But soone as life recouered had the raine,

She made so piteous mone and deare wayment,

That the hard rocks could scarse from teares refraine,

And all her sister Nymphes with one consent

Supplide her sobbing breaches with sad complement.

36 Deare image of my selfe (she said) that is,

The wretched sonne of wretched mother borne,

Is this thine high aduauncement, ô is this

Th’immortall name, with which thee yet vnborne

Thy Gransire Nereus promist to adorne?

Now lyest thou of life and honor reft;

Now lyest thou a lumpe of earth forlorne,

Ne of thy late life memory is left,

Ne can thy irreuocable destiny be weft?

37 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 do liue,

But they that die, doe neither loue nor hate.

Nath’lesse to thee thy folly I forgiue,

And to my selfe, and to accursed fate

The guilt I doe ascribe: deare wisedome bought too late.

38 O what auailes it of immortall seed

To beene ybred and neuer borne to die?

Farre better I it deeme to die with speed,

Then waste in woe and wailefull miserie.

Who dyes the vtmost dolour doth abye,

But who that liues, is left to waile his losse:

So life is losse, and death felicitie.

Sad life worse then glad death: and greater crosse

To see friends graue, then dead the graue selfe to engrosse.

39 But if the heauens did his dayes enuie,

And my short blisse maligne, yet mote they well

Thus much afford me, ere that he did die

That the dim eyes of my deare Marinell

I mote haue closed, and him bed farewell,

Sith other offices for mother meet

They would not graunt.

Yet maulgre them farewell, my sweetest sweet;

Farewell my sweetest sonne, sith we no more shall meet.

40 Thus when they all had sorrowed their fill,

They softly gan to search his griesly wound:

And that they might him handle more at will,

They him disarm’d, and spredding on the ground

Their watchet mantles frindgd with siluer round,

They softly wipt away the gelly blood

From th’orifice; which hailing well vpbound,

They pourd in soueraine balme, and Nectar good,

Good both for earthly med’cine, and for heauenly food.

41 Tho when the lilly handed Liagore,

(This Liagore whylome had learned skill

In leaches craft, by great Appolloes lore,

Sith her whylome vpon high Pindus hill,

He loued, and at last her wombe did fill

With heauenly seed, whereof wise Pœon sprong)

Did feele his pulse, she knew there staied still

Some litle life his feeble sprites emong;

Which to his mother told, despeire she from her flong.

42 Tho vp him taking in their tender hands,

They easily vnto her charet beare:

Her teme at her commaundement quiet stands,

Whiles they the corse into her wagon reare,

And strow with flowres the lamentable beare:

Then all the rest into their coches clim,

And through the brackish waues thier passage sheare;

Vpon great Neptunes necke they softly swim,

And to her watry chamber swiftly carry him.

43 Deepe in the bottome of the sea, her bowre

Is built of hollow billowes heaped hye,

Like to thicke doudes, that threat a stormy showre,

And vauted all within, like to the sky,

In which the Gods do dwell eternally:

There they him laid in easie 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,

44 The whiles the Nymphes sit all about him round,

Lamenting his mishap and heauy plight;

And oft his mother vewing his wide wound,

Cursed the hand, that did so deadly smight

Her dearest sonne, her dearest harts delight.

But none of all those curses ouertooke

The warlike Maid, th’ensample of that might,

But fairely well she thriu’d, and well did brooke

Her noble deeds, ne her right course for ought fonooke.

45 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 Faery gent,

Whom late in chace of beautie excellent

She left, pursewing that same foster strong;

Of whose foule outrage they impatient,

And full of fiery zeale, him followed long,

To reskew her from shame, and to reuenge her wrong.

46 Through thick and thin, through mountaines & through plains,

Those two great champions did attonce pursew

The fearefull damzell, with incessant paines:

Who from them fled, as light-foot hare from vew

Of hunger swift, and sent of houndes 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 happie were, to win so goodly pray.

47 But Timias, the Princes gentle Squire,

That Ladies loue vnto his Lord forlent,

And with proud enuy, and indignant ire,

After that wicked foster fiercely went.

So beene they three three sundry wayes ybent.

But fairest fortune to the Prince befell,

Whose chaunce it was, that soone he did repent,

To take that way, in which that Damozell

Was fled afore, affraid of him, as feend of hell.

48 At last of her farre off he gained vew:

Then gan he freshly pricke his fomy steed,

And euer as he nigher to her drew,

So euermore he did increase his speed,

And of each turning still kept warie heed:

Aloud 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.

49 But nothing might relent her hastie 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 aire her way does cut amaine,

Hauing farre off espyde a Tassell gent,

Which after her his nimble wings doth straine,

Doubleth her haste for feare to be for-hent,

And with her pineons cleaues the liquid firmament.

50 With no lesse haste, and eke with no lesse dreed,

That fearefull Ladie fled 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 vewd,

Her selfe freed from that foster insolent,

And that it was a knight, which now her sewd,

Yet she no lesse the knight feard, then that villein rude.

51 His vncouth shield and straunge armes her dismayd,

Whose like in Faery lond were seldome seene,

That fast she from him fled, no lesse affrayd,

Then of wilde beastes if she had chased beene:

Yet he her followd still with courage 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 louts eternall hous.

52 All suddenly dim woxe 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,

And that perforce, for want of lenger light,

He mote surcease 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 fom him so goodly scope.

53 Tho when her wayes he could no more descry,

But to and fro at disauenture strayd;

Like as a ship, whose Lodestarre suddenly

Couered with cloudes, her Pilot hath dismayd;

His wearisome pursuit perforce he stayd,

And from bis loftie steed dismounting low,

Did let him forage.