lU9 CORNELL UNIVERSITY LIBRARY GIFT OF Mrs. J, C. Bradley Cornell University Library PR 2351.T63 1869 The works of Edmund Spenser. With a selec 3 1924 013 124 692 Cornell University Library The original of tiiis book is in tine Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924013124692 THE WOEKS EDMUND SPENSEE. IE I; M Tf M P B'S E.E LOiIDOlT CxEOP/iE EDUTLBB&E & SOB'S, EP-OAIi war. OTDG-ATE TTTTJ. Ml J'di I'li. w "si OS" B M :i J M TF" iM' ^ l" Ifv 3j II -? J ■f-r ^> ^ r r i, O : ; 111) O f>f TEE WORKS EDMUND SPENSER, A SELECTION OF NOTES FROM VARIOUS COMMENTATORS ; gkOtr a (Slossarial |nlrex: TO WHICH 13 PREFIXED, SOME ACCOUNT OF THE LIFE OF SPENSEE, BY THE REV. HENRY JOHN TODD, M.A. ATtCHDEACON OF CLEVELANI*. NEW EDITION. LONDON : GEORGE ROUTLEDGE AND SONS, THE BBOADWAT, LUD6ATE. NEW YORK: 416, BROOME STREET. 1869. $) I\V1'^^S KBADBURT, EVANS, AND CO., PRINTERS WHITEFRTAR3. ALFEED TENNYSON, ESQ. THIS EDITION OP THE WORKS OF SPENSER, IS INSCRIBED THE PUBLISHER. CONTENTS. SOME ACCOUNT OF THE LIFE OF SPENSKR .... bi THE FAEEIE QUEENE— BOOK L 8 BOOK U 66 BOOK III .128 BOOK IT 191 BOOK v . • . 244 BOOK VI. . . . 297 THE SHEPHEARDS CALENDER . . S60 JANUARIB 364 FBBRUARIB 366 MARCH , .... 369 APRIL 371 MAY 374 lUNB ^ .378 lULY .... 380 AUGUST 383 SEPTEMBER . ... 386 OCTOBER 388 MOTEMBER 391 DECEMBER 394 MUIOPOTMOS 397 THE RUINES OF TIME 401 THE TEARES OF THE MUSES 408 VIRGILS GNAT 414 PROSOPOPOIA; OR MOTHER HUBBERDS TALE 420 CONTENTS. PAGS THE KUINES OF ROME 431 VISIONS OP THE WORLDS VANITIE . . . . . . . . 436 VISIONS OF BELLAY, 1569 437 THE VISIONS OP BELLAY, 1691 439 THE VISIONS OP PETRARCH 441 DAPHNAIDA 442 COLIN CLOUTS COME HOME AGAINE 447 ASTROPHEL 45^ THE DOLEPULL LAY OP CLOEINDA 457 THE MOURNING MUSE OP THESTYLIS 453 A PASTORALL AEGLOGUE 4g2 AN ELEGIE ^g2 AN EPITAPH ... 464 ANOTHER OP THE SAME ^gj PROTHALAMION ,„. AMORETTI, OR SONNETS 4gg SONNETS ^35 POEMS • - . . 481 EPITHALAMION . . ,„„ FOWRE HYMNES , . ,„. • ■ . . 400 AN HYMNE IN HONOUR OF LOVE 4gg AN HYMNE IN HONOFB OF BBAUTIE . ^gj, AN HYMNE OP HEAVENLY LOVE . . .„, AN HYMNE OF HEAVENLY BEAUTIB 494 BRITTAIN'S IDA ^gy A VIEW OP THE STATE OF IRELAND 5OS GLOSSARIAL INDEX . . .,, SOME ACCOUNT LIFE OF SPENSER. Edmund Spenser, descended from the "ancient and honourable family of Spencer, was born in London in ^ East Smithfield by the Tower, probably about the year 1553. In what school he received the first part of his education, it has not been recorded. But we find that he was admitted, as a sizer, of Pembroke-Hall in Cambridge, on May 20. 1569 ; that he proceeded to the degree of Batchelor of Arts, Jan. 16. 1572-3 ; and to that of Master of Arts, June 26. 157C'. That Spenser cultivated, with successful attention, what is useful as well as elegant in academical learning ; is evident by the abimdance of classical allusions in his works, and by the accustomed moral of his song. At Cambridge he formed an '' intimacy with Gabriel Harvey, first of Christ's College, afterwards of Trinity Hall ; who became Doctor of Laws in 1585, and survived his friend more than thirty years. The correspondence between Spenser and Harvey will present to the reader several interesting particulars respecting both. That Spenser was an unsuccessful candidate for a fellowship in Pembroke- Hall, in competition with Andrews, afterwards the well-known prelate ; the best-informed biographers of the poet have long since ' disproved. The rival of Andrews was Thomas Dove, afterwards Bishop of Peter- borough. That some disappointment, however, had occurred, in regard to Spenser's academical views ; and that some disagreement had taken place between him and the master or tutor of the society ; is rendered highly probable by the following passage in Harvey's Letter to him, at the close of his sJwrt but sharpe and learned iudgement of Earthquakes, dated April 7. 1580, and printed in the same year, p. 29. "And wil you needes have my testimonial! of youre old Controllers new behaviour ? A busy and dizy heade ; a brazen forehead ; a ledden braine ; a woodden * See his Colin Clouts come home again, ver. 538 ; his Dedication of Muiopotmos to lady Carew ; and the eiroumatance more fully noticed in the remar]£S, offered in this account of Spenser's Life, on that Dedication. b Oldys's manuscript additions to Winstanley's Lives of tlie most famous English poets, c(tpied by Isaac Reed Esqr. «: Prefixed by Dr. Farmer, in his o^vn hand-writing, to the first volume of Hughes's second edition of Spenser, in the possession of Isaac Reed Esqr. See also Clialmers's Suppl. Apology &c. p. 23. ^ See a long account of Harvey in Wood's Athence Oxon. Vol. 1. Fasti, col. 128. And a list of his writings in Tanner's Bibliotheca Brit-Iiib. p. 302. See also the remark of E. IC. the commentator on the SfiepJieard's Calender, in the ninth Eclogue, p. 388. — Webbe, in his Discourse of Bnglish Poetrie, ]5»6, asserts that Harvey was the " most special fi'iende " of Spenser. Nash, however, the avowed enemy of Harvey, repeatedly ridicules Harvey's boast of his friend- ship with Spenser ; and, notwithstanding his animadversions on Harvey's railing, rails with equal if not greater flippancy and petulance himself. He may ridicule Harvey's hexameters, as much as he pleases ; nf which kind of verses in English, Harvey indeed pompously announces himself as the inventor. But he cannot detract from tho general merit of Harvey both as a poet and a scholar. His beautiful poem, prefixed to the Faiu-ie Qiieeiie, and signed /ro&6mt)Z, bespeaks an elegant and well-turned mind. Among his woi-ks are several productions of great ingenuity and pi'ofound research. * e See the Life of Spenser prefi^Cil to tlie edition of the Faerie Queene, in 1751 ; the Biographia Britannica, vol. 6. Art Bpensor, die D SOME ACCOUNT OF THE LIFE OF SPENSER. wit ; a copper face ; ' a stony breast ; a factious and elvish liearte ; a foucder of nove lea ; a confounder of his owne and his friends good gifts ; -^ morning bookeworm ; an atternoone nialtworm ; a right juggler, as ful of his sleights, w^les, fetches, casts of Legerdomaine, toyes to mocke apes withal, odde ehiftes, and knavish practizes, as his skin can holde : ' Ho theu proceeds to reprobate the circumstance of " many pupUs, jackemates and hayle-fellowes-wel-met with their tutors ; and, by your leave, some too, because forsooth they be gentlemen or great neires or a little neater and gayer than their fellowes, (shall I say it for shame ? beleeve me, tis too true,) their very own tutors!" To the notice of this abuse in academical instruction he subjoins a copious list of Latin reflections, full of indignation at its existence ; one of which seems to point at the disagreement already mentioned : " Cfetera fere, UT glim: Sellmn inter capita et Diemhra conthmatum." After having taken his last degree in Arts, therefore, we must suppose Spenser to have retired immediately from Cambridge ; having no fortune to support an independent residence there, and apparently no prospect of furtherance in the society to which he belonged. It is remarkable, however, that he makes no mention of Pembroke-Hall either in his Letters or his poetry. The University he has repeatedly celebrated witli filial regard, It is said that he now went to reside with some relations in the North of Englaud; not perhaps, as is vaguely asserted by most of his biographers, as a mere pensioner on their bounty, but perhaps as a tutor to some young friend. However, he now employed his poetical abilities, no doubt, on various occasions. I conceive it to be very probable that, long before this time, he had given proof of his attachment to the Muses, while at the same time he concealed his name, in several poems which are to be found in the Theatre, for Wmidlinqs; a work published in the year, in which he had become a member of the University. The similarity, almost minutely exact, of these poems to Spenser's Visions ; to his Visions of Petrardt in particular, formerly TRANSLATED, as the title tells us ; is otherwise not easily to be explained. S])enser needeii not to borrow such petty aids to fame. But my supposition, I think, is strengthened by the following observation, made by Harvey to Spenser in a second letter, edit. 1580. p. 41. "I like your Dreames passingly well ; and the rather, bicause they savour of that singular extraordinarie veine and invention, whiche I ever fancied moste, and in a manner admired onelye in Lucian, Petrarche, Aretine, Pasquill, and all the most delicate and fine-conceited Grecians and Italians; (for the Romanes to speake of, are but verye ciphars in this kinde ;) whose chiefest endcvour and drifte was, to have nothing vulgare ; but in some respecte or other, and especially in Wy hyperholicall amplifications, rare, queiut, and odde in every pointe, and, -as a man would saye, a degree or two at the leaste above the reache and compasse of a common schollers capacitie. In which respect notwithstanding, as well for the singularitie of the manner as thedivinitie of the matter, I hearde once a Divine preferre Saint lohns Eevelation before al the veriest Meta/plymd Visions, and iollyest conceited Dreames or Extasies, that ever were devised by one or other, how adu.irable or superexcellent soever they seemed otherwise to the worlde. And truely I am so confirmed in this opinion, that, when I bethinke me of the verie notablest and moste wonderful propheticall or poeticall Vision that ever I read or hearde, me seemeth the proportion is so uiiequall, that there hardly appeareth any semblaunce of comparison ; no more in a manner (specially for poets) than doth betweene the incomprehensible Wisedome of God, and the sensible wit of man. But what needeth this digression betweene you and me I I d.ire saje you wyll hold your selfe reasonably wel satisfied, ii youve Dreames be but as well esteemed of in Englande as Petrarches Visions be in Italy : which, I assure yon, is the very worst I wish you." Tl.e author of the Life of Spenser, prefixed to Mi-. Church's edition of the Faerie Queene, makes ^ this observation on Spenser's Visions ; that they are little things, done probably when Spenser was young, according to the taste of the times for Emblems. The Theatre for Worldlingi, I must f Tbis quotation certainly exhibits a choice example of Ilarvpv'K tfliont Tr, ♦!.« 1 * , ,,,,*., 4 to remind him of hi., " singula,- liberalitie and bounL in besT^nt t^ L L "„ ■;J,™f r''' "' """"' ''^^"f ""t '"". his Foure Letter, confuted. 1532, Sign. E. 2.-The anthor of the Wff'fSpen^/itZ' «""'"'''. Tv' 'h« suffered a lingular mor of the press, in tl>is passage of Ilarvev's Letter to paru;.^ti!.'< ^i^^-'^P^l'' Brilanmca, h« the severity of Harvey is somewhat softened : viz, ■ ' a copperVace : "aUilXro^^l^^ tII Z "^ "'"y"^""' ' Tkl o«urs in the Life of Spenser, uhieh is given in the Sur,p,e,nent to the UniversaTMasalneyol xlS-'n^^'i"' SOME ACCOUNT OF THE LIFE OF SPENSER. aiJd, evidently presents a series of i?)jiWcms. It maybe therefore not unreasonably sujipoEecl that the Vuions in that book ; the i)7-ea)ns commended by Harvey ; and the Viswns piiblislied by the bookseller while Spenser was in Ireland, which now regularly form a part of his Works ■ are originally the same composition, since altered and improved. E. K. the commentator on the Shepheards Calender, first published in 1579, informs us, that. beside the Dreains, the s Legends and Court of Cupid were then finished by Spenser, as well as his Translation of Moschus's Idyllion of wandering Lorn. He also relates that Spenser had written a Discourse imder the title of the i" English Poet ; and that he purposed to present it to the public-k : but he fulfilled not his intention., Spenser, in his Letter to Gabriel Harvey, dated October Ifj. 1579, speaks of "iKs SfomJicr, and other pamphlets" intended to be dedicated to Sir Philip Sidney, and in his Letter dated April 10. 1580, mentions also that his "Dreamesniad Dying Fdlicane were then fully finished ;" and that he designed soon "to sette forthe a booke, entitled Ejiitha- lamion Thainesis." In the same Letter he also speaks of his Stemmata Dudkiana. These Legends, Court of Cufid, and Epitludamion, appear to be closely connected with circumstances since admitted into the Faerie Queene '. Sufficient has been said to prove the industry of Spenser, after his retirement from the banks of Cam. But the praise due to his diligence and genius must be highly augmented, when we add his Shepheards Calender to the list of his labours already mentioned ; which was published in 157s. Of this elegant Poem much is devoted to complaints, such as tender and unsuccessful lovers breathe ; and a considerable part to observations that bespeak a pensive and a feeling mind. "Wliile resident in the North, he had fallen in love with a mistress, of no ordinary accomplishments, whom he has recorded under the name of ''Rosalind ; who, after trifling with his honourable aifection, preferred his rival. To subjects of this kind the pipe of pastoral poetry is often tuned ; and thus Spenser soothed his unfortunate passion ; while, in these plaintive strains, he has also interwoven several circumstances relating to his own history and to that of contemporary persons. Before the publication of the Shepheards Calender, he had been induced, by the advice of his friend Harvey, to quit his obscure abode in the country, and to remove to London. This removal is dated by Mr. Ball, in his Life of Spenser prefixed to his edition of the Calender, in 1578. By Harvey, it is generally allowed, he was introduced to the accomplished Philip Sidney ; who, justly appreciating the talents of Spenser, recommended him to his uncle the Earl of Leicester. The poet was also invited to the family-seat of Sidney at Penshurst in Kent, where he was probably employed in some literary service, and at least assisted, we may suppose, the Platonick and chivalrous studies of the gallant and learned youth who had thus kindly noticed him. We may thus understand the passage, as well the old commentators remark, in the fouith Eclogue, ver. 21 . Colin thou kenst, the soictherne shepheards boye : Him Love hath wounded &e. " Seemeth hereby," says E. K., " tliat Colin pertaineth to some Southern nobleman, and perhaps in Surrey, or Kent the rather, because he so often nameth the Kentish downes, and before As lithe as lasse o/Kent." In the sixth Eclogue also, where Hobbinol advises Colin to forsake the soil that had bewitched him, and to repair to vales more fruitful, the commentator informs us that this is no poetical fiction, but a true description of the advice to which the poet had wisely listened. In the tenth Eclogue, Spenser celebrates the Earl of Leicester as " the Worthy whom e See the Epistle prefixed to the Shepheards Calender, and the notes on the thu-d Eclogue, p. 370. t See the Argument to the tenth Eclogue. ' See the Faer. Qu. Book iii. C. xii. st. 6, 6. &c. Book iv. Canto ii. st. 10, 11, &c. ^ See what E. K. relates of this hard-hearted fair, in his notes on the first Eclogue, p. 365. The author of the Life ol Spenser, prefixed to Church's edition of the Faerie Queene, ohserves, in consequence of E. K.'s information, that the name being well ordered will heiray the very name of Spenser's Love and Mistress^ "that as Rose is a common Christian name, so in Kent among the Gentry under Henry VI. in Fuller's Worthies, we find in Canteibury the name of John Lynde." — If Hose Lynde be the person designed, she has the honour also to have her poetical name adopted by Dr. Lodge, a contemporary poet with Spenser, who wrote a collection of Sonnets entitled Rosalind ; and by Shakspearo, who h.as presented us with a very engaging Rosalind, i^ As you like it. h 2 SOME ACCOUNT OF THE LIFE OF SPENSER. the Queen loves best;" according to E. K.'s illustration. The eleventh is conjectured to have been written at Penshurst. Nor was the poet unnoticed, in regard to his advancement in the world, by this nobleman ; as we shall presently see. The Dedication, therefore, of the Shepheards Calender to " Maister Philip Sidney" is a proof of gratitude as well as of judgement ; to which the poet, " not obvious, not obtrusive," modestly subscribes himself Immertto ; by which appellation also Harvey afterwards addresses him in his Letters. The commentator on the Calender has prefixed to the Poem a Letter to Harvey, which displays with remarkable acuteness the design of the Pastoral ; in which Spenser is styled the unknown and new poet, but who, " as soon as he shall be known, shall be beloved of all, embraced of the most, and wondered at of the best." Congenial as we may suppose tlie studies of Sidney and Spenser to have been, Sidney has not however given unqualified ' praise to the Calender. "The Shepheards Kalendor," he says, in his Defence of Poesie, "hath much poetrie in hia Eclogues, indeede worthiethe reading if I be not deceived. That same framing of his stile to an old rusticke language, I dare not allow ; since neither Theocritus in Greeke "Virgil in Latin, nor Sannazarius in Italian, did affect it." Yet Wehbe, in his Discourse of English Poetry, can find no blemish existing in it ; and Francis Meres, in his Wifs Treasury says "As Theocritus is famed for his Idyllia in Greek, and Virgil for his Eclogs in Latin ■ so Spenser, their imitator in his Shepheards Calendar, is renowned for the like argument and honoured for fine poetical invention and most exquisite wit." The Poem indeed gained so manv admirers as to pass through ^ five editions while Spenser lived. Yet the narrte of Spenser as the author, appears for some time to have been not generally known. For to a manuscript translation of the poem into Latin verse by John Dove, preserved in the " Library of Caius College Cambridge, a Dedication to the Dean and Subdean of Christ Church Oxford is prefixed which shews that the translator had never heard of Spenser, and had never seen i\\e first edition of what he had translated. The Dean and Subdean, to whom this translation is addressed are Dr. James and Dr. Heton, of whom the former held the Deanery from 1584 to 1596. It is remarkable that the translator speaks of this unowned poem (to adopt the translator's own allusion (as almost buried in oblivion : "Prodiit (ornatissimi viri) anno salutis 1581 libellus qui- dam aUoTTOTos rithmo Anglicano eleganter compositus, qui vulgari nomine et titulo Calendarium Pastorum inscribebatur, in/jignissimo D. P. Sidneio dedicatus, cui tum noviter divulgate docti vehementer applauserunt. Quia illustrissimus eques suo patrocinio non indignum judicavit eundem etiam latinitate donatum in vestri nominis dignitate apparere volui vestrum noinen conjunctim affari, vos patronos asciscere, partim ut aliquam observantiEe mejE sifnificationem vobis darem quibus me plurimum debere agnosco, partim ut hoc opusoulum jam pene deletum et quasi sepultum de novo vestrte lectioni secundo commendarem ; vel, si non integrum, saltern ^glogas 7, 9, etc. quibus sensus inest long^ divinissimus. Spero vobis non ingratum fore hoc meura studium, quum non sitis Morrelli, non Davides, non Palinodi, et pseudapostoli ; scd Algrindi, sed Pierci, et Thomalini, orthodoxi pastores, &c." The poetical translation is by no means indifferent ; and there is subjoined to it an Elegy, in very respectable Latin hexameters, on the death oi Algrind, that is. Archbishop GrinfZai, whom Spenser designs, in his fifth Eclogue, under " that anagrammatick name ; as in the seventh he also designs Bishop Elmer or Ajlmer, under p that of MoiTcll. • Sir Philip, however, in his Defence of Poesie, evidentlv allndnic wi^u «....»,• i ... passage, to the sati.ea. l^ of ^. S,.,„ear^ C^ae/T^i:^^ thf^r^^Xr rott™iin.f;, 'C^ what blessednes.; is derived to them that l/e lo'^^vest f™m the goodnesse of themtLT . ^l' f ,"* "''^""' "' '"""""' preltie talcs of wolves an.l sheepe. can include the whole eTn'weraHonsnf It *, '''''" ' Sometimes, under («« that contentions for trifies can get but a trifling vietorieTe" ™S domg and patience; sometimes she* « N.mibered 595 in the valuable collection of manuscripts belonging to this socTetv" '^''' '''"''' ""'' '^'''' "Archbishop Grindal appears, by these commendations of Spenser and Dovo f« i, v account of the mildness of his disposition. The puritans claimed him unhprfli „. m -^ ^''^'•"'' '''==P«='«^ " contemporary poet, (of whom further mention is presently made,) wrote aid nnhli.h !f °""- °''- ^'''""' ''"''"'" which he named, by way of eminence, Prcesul. The memory of Grindal indeed wn''"''""""''" ''™""'^ ''""''°'; gratitude, while Queen's College Oxford, and Pembroke Hall Cambridge, shall exist S ^""t"";!' to be the theme of ■> Dr. Elmer or Aylmer, Bishop of London, excited the displeasure of Soenser t,o,.i,.^„. ^^ '''^'P^'l Life of this prelate. '^P'"''''''^''n<=™sequenoe of his ceasing to SOME ACCOUNT OF THE LIFE OF SPENSER. If Mr. Dove's translation has represented the fame of the Shepheards Calender as sleeping, let us oppose to his evidence the acknowledged utility of the poem, within tlie period in whicl) he deplores its supposed hurial, as subservient not only to tlie solaciDg the troubled spirit, but to the illustration of perhaps the most abstruse subject within the circle of English Literature, The Logickofthe Law! Abraham Fraunce, (a poet as well as a barrister, and the friend of Sir Philip Sidney,) who tells us that " seaven yeares were almost overgone him since he began to be a medler with Logicall meditations," publislied in I58t) '"The Lawiers Logike ;" and in his Preface he says he had read his meditations six times over within the seven years, "thrise at S. lohns colledge in Cambridge, thrise at Grays Inne in London. After application of Logike to Lawe," he continues, " and examination, of Lawe by Logike, I made playne the precepts of the one by the practise of the other, and called my booke, The Lawyers Logike ; not as tinough Logike were tyed only unto Law, but for that our Law is most fit to expresse the prsecepts of Logike. Yet, because many love Logilce that never learne Lawe, Thave reteyned those ould examples of the new Shepheards Kalender, which I first gathered ; and thereunto added thease also out of our Law bookes, which I lately collected." — I select a pithy illustration from the tenth chapter of the first book : " Of Opposites. Opposites are eyther Disparates or contraries. Disparates are sundry opposites wherof one is equally and in like manner opposed unto many. HobbinoU in Aprill in his song of Elisa : Bring here the pincke, and purple cullambine, with gelliflowres : Bring coronations, and sop3 in wine, &c. &c. All which herbes bee equally differing one from another, and are therefore Disjjarates. M. Plowden, Fol. 170. a. b. Mes vn grosse nosme poyet conteigner diuers choses corporall, come Manor, Monastery, Kectory, Castell, Honor, et tiels semblables. Car eux sent choses compound, et poyent conteyner tout ensemble messuages, terres, prees, bois, et tiels semblables." I will add another instance, which may perhaps entitle me to the thanks of the next editor of Plowden, as it exhibits a correction of that great lawyer ! " Of Contraries. Repugnant argu- ments bee such contraries, whereof one is so opposite to one, or at the most to two, as that there can never any agreement bee found betweene tliem. So warre is onely opposite to peace : but covetousness to liberality and prodigalitie, yet more to prodigality. Perigot in August : Ah Willy, when the hart is ill assayde. How can bagpipe or ioynts be well apayde ? Maister Plowden, Fol. 4G7. a. Et issint il apiert ditersitie, (hee should have sayde rather Repugnancy^ enter les deux equities ; car Fun abridge, Tauter enlarge ; I'un dyniynisha. Tauter amplifie ; Tun tolla de le letter, Tauter ad al ceo." These remarkable circumstances relating to the first publication, by which Spenser became distinguished, being noticed ; it is now necessary to turn to his correspondence with Harvey. And the following Letter will at once inform us of his situation, his employment of time, and his expectations. " To the WorsUpfull hhtery singular good friend, Maister G. H. Fellow of Tr'mitie Hallin Cambridge. " Good Maister G. — I perceive by your most curteous and frendly letters your good will to Ijc no lesse in deed, than I alwayes esteemed. In recompence wherof, think I beseech you, that I wil spare neither speech nor wryting, nor aught else, whensoever and wheresoever occasiou inveigh against the superior clergy; for " when he first became a preacher," says Sir John Harlngton, "he followed the popnlar phrase and fashion of the younger divines of tliose tymes, which was to inveigh against the siiperfluHia of the churchmen .'—of which not long after, by reading and conference, he was throughly cored.— Certain it is, no bishop wiis more persecuted and taunted hy the puritans 0/ all scris then he wns, by lybellB, by scoffs, by open railing, and privy baclibiting." Briefe View of the State of the Ch. of Eng- 12mo. 1653, p. 18. See also a slander upon this bibhop refuted in Fulke's Retentive to stay good Christians in true Faith, 12ino. Lond. 1580, p. S9. <\ "The Lawiers Logike, exemplifying the precepts of Logike by the practise of the common Lawe, by Abrahnni Fraunce, Lond. 1588." 4tn. A poetical Dedication to Henry Earle of Pembrooke is prefixed. Fraunce is a WDter of verses, and shines particularly as an English hexametrist. His Counttsse of Pembrohcs Yri/rhiirch, and his trjmhlntion of part of Heliodorus, are written in melodious dactyls and spondees, to the no small admiration of Sidney, Ilai vey, &o Sidney adopted, in hia Arcadia, almost every kind of Latin verse for liis English songs. Fraunce appears to h-ivo been intimate with Spenser, and to have seen the F^ierie Qiieciie long before it was published. SOME ACCOUNT OF THE LIFE OF SPENSER. shall be offred me : yea, I will not stay till it be ofFred, but will seeke it in al that possibly I may. And that you may perceive how much your counsel in al things prevaileth with me, and how altogither I am ruled and over-ruled thereby ; I am now determined to alter mine owne former purpose, and to subscribe to your advizement : being notwithstanding resolved stil to abide your farther resolution. My principal doubts are these. First, I was minded for a while to have intermitted the uttering of my writings, leaste, by over-much cloying their noble eares, I should gather a contempt of myself, or else seeme rather for gaine and commoditie to doe it, for some sweetnesse that I have already tasted. Then also me seemeth the work too base /or his excellent 'lordship, being made in honour of a private personage unknowne, which ; of some ylwillers might be upbraided, not to be so worthie, as you knowe slie is ; or the matter . not so weightie, that it should be offred to so weightie a personage, or the like. The selfe former title still liketh me well ynough, and your fine addition no lesse. If these, and the like doubtes, maye be of importaunce in your seeming, to frustrate any parte of your advice, 1 beseeche you, without the leaste selfe love of your own purpose, councell me for the beste : and the rather doe it faithfuUye, and carefully, for that, in all things, I attribute so muche to your iudgement, that I am evermore content to adniliilate mine owne determinations, in respecte thereof. And indeede for your selfe, to, it sitteth with you now, to call your wits and senses togither (which are alwaies at call) when occasion is so fairely offered of estimation and pre- ferment. For whiles the yron is bote, it is good striking, and minds of nobles varie as their estates. Vei'um ne quid duHus. I pray you bethinke you well hereof, good Maister G. and forthwith write me those two or three special points and caveats for the nonce ; De quibus in svperioribus iUis melUtUsimis loTigissimtsq lUteris tuis. Your desire to heare of my late beeing with hir Maiestie, must dye in it selfe. As for the twoo worthy gentlemen, " Master Sidney, and Master Dyer, they have me, I thanke them, in some use of familiarity : of whom, and to whome, what speache passeth for youre credite and estimation, I leave your selfe to conceive, having alwayes so well conceived of my unfained affection, and zeale towardes you. And nowe they have proclaimed in their apeianrayif a general surceasing and silence of balde rymers, and also of the verie beste to : in steade whereof, they have, by authoritie of their whole senate, prescribed certaine lawes and rules of quantities of English sillables, for English verse : having had thereof already great practise, and drawen mee to their faction. Newe bookes I heare of none, but only of ' one, that writing a certaine booke, called The Schooh of Abuse, and dedicating it to Maister Sidney, was for hys labor scorned ; if at leaste it be in the goodnesse of that nature to scorne. Such follie is it, not to regarde aforehande the inclination and qualitie of him, to whome wee dedicate oure bookes. Suche mighte I happily incurre, entituling My "Slomber, and the other pamphlets, unto his honor. I meant them rather to Maister Dyer. But I am, of late, more in love wyth my Englishe ' versifying, than with ryming : whyche I should have done long since, if I would then have followed your councell. Sed te solum iam turn suspicabar cum Aschamo sapere ; nunc Aulam video cgregios alere Poetas Anglicos. Maister " E. K. hartily desireth to be commended unto yijur Worshippe, of whom, what r The 'Rarl of Leicester, T suppose. s Sidney and Dyer appear to have heen particular friends. ITarvey calls them " the Cast.>r and Pollux of poetry.'* In D:ivisnn's Poitical Rapsodie, edit. 1(102, two pastoral Odes are to be found, made "by Sir P. Sidney upon his meeting with his two worthy friends, and fellow-poets. Sir Edward Dier and M. Fulke Grevill." t Stephen Gosson ; whose book was first published in 1579. He was a preacher, and a writer of verses ; noted, accord- ing to Antony Wood, for his admirable penning of pastorals ; yet very severe " against Poets, Pipers, Players, and their Kxcusers," as he is pleased thus to class them, in his Schoole of Abuse and in his Apolagie (published in the same year) for the said didactick work ! " A Sennights Slumber, as it is entitled in the bookseller's address to the reader, prefixed to the Complaints. V We lament the perverted taste of Spenser in this respect. But he afterwards paid little or no attention to this versi/t/ing. He means, hy ueMi/'i/inp, the unnatural adaptation of English verse to Latin prosody; of which further notice is presently taken. ^ Tlie commentator on the Sftepheards Calender, whose labours were joined to the poem on its first appearance. By the mention of Mystresse Kerkes, in the next p.aragraph, some have been led to assign the name of Edward Kerke. tit the old scholiast. Some also have not failed to suppose that King might be the name ; and, that the force of guessint,' might no further go, to imagine even the poet and the commentator the same person I SOME ACCOUNT OF THE LIFE OF SPENSER, accompte he maketh, your selfe shall hereafter peroeivej by hys paynefull and dutifiill versos oi your selfe. Thus much was ■written at "Westminster yesternight ; hut comming this morning, beeyng the sixteenth of October [1579] to Mystresse Kerkes, to have it delivered to the carrier, I receyved youre letter, sente me the laste weeke ; wlierehy I perceive you other wliiles continue your old exercise of versifying in English ; whych glorie 1 had now thouglit slioulde have bene onely ours heere at London, and the Court. Trusts me, your verses I like passingly well, and envye your hidden paines in this hinde, or rather maligne and grudge at your selfe, that woulde not once imparte so ujuche to me. Cut, once or twice, you make a breache in Maister "Drant's rules: guod tamen condonabimus tantu Puiitm, tuceq ipsius maximce in his rebus autorltati. You shall see, when we meete in London, (whiohe, when it shall be, certifye us) howe fast I have followed after you in that course : be- ware, leaste in time I overtake you, Veruntamen te solum sequar, {ut Sibpenmnero sum professus,) nunquam sane assequar, dum vivam. And nowe requite I you with the like, not with the verye beste, but with the verye shortest, namely, with a fewe larabickes. I dare warrant, they be precisely perfect, for the feete, (as you can easily iudge) and varie not one inch from the rule I will imparte yours to Maister Sidney, and Maister Dyer, at my nexte going to the conrte. i praye you, keepe mine close to your selfe, or your verie entire friendes, Maister ' Pi-eston, Maister ' Still, and the reste. lamblcum Trimetrum. * TTTihappie Verse ! the witnesse of my unhiippie state, Blake thy selfe fliittring wings of thy fast flying Thought, and fly furth unto my Love -.vhersoever she be : Whether lying reastlesse in heavy bedde, or else Sitting so cheerelesse at the cheerfuU booi-de, or else Playing alone carclesse on liir heavenlie viiginals. If in bed ; tell hir, that my eyes can take no reste : It at boorde ; tell hir, that nty mouth can eate no ineate : If at hir virginals ; tel liir, 1 can heare no mirth. Asked why ? say, Waking love suPFereth no sleepe : Say, that raging love dothe appall the weake stomacke : Say, that lamenting love marreth the musicall. Tell hir, that hir pleasures were wonte to lull me asleepe • Tell hir, that hir boautie was wonte to feede mine eyes : Tell hir, that hir sweece tongue was wonte to make me niirtn. Now doe I nightly waste, wanting my l^indely reste : Now doe I dayly starve, wanting my lively foode; Now doe I alwayes dye, wanting thy timely n^irth. And if I waste, who will bewaile my heavy chaunce ? And if I starve, who will record my cursed end ? And if I dye, who will saye. This uas Immeritu ? I thought once agayne here to have made an ende, with a heartie Vale, of the best fashion : t Among the many publications by Drant, I have not discovered these Rules,- which may be a subject of deep lamen- tation to English hexametrists, and pentametrists, atque id genus omne, unless they have been more fortunate in their search ! Tanner's list of his publications is copious. Drant was of St. John's College, Cambridge, afterwards preben- dary of Chichester and archdeacon of Lewes. See his character in Warton's Hist, of Eng. Poetry, vol. iii. p. 429. y Pre-ston, first of King's College, Cambridge, afterwards Master of Trinity Hall, was the author of " A Lamentable Tragedy mixed ful of pleasant mirth, conteyning the life of Camhises king of Percia, &o." which is said to have rendered the author an object of ridicule. He wrote also " A geliflower or swete marygolde, wherein the fnitc. of t^;ranny you may beholde." See the Biografhia Dramatiea, Art. Preston, (Thomas) and Cambyses. See also BibUo- gi-aph. Poetica. ' Still, -who was afterwards bishop of Bath and Wells, is believed to be the author of Gammer Gurtons Nerdle, the earliest exhibition of what " looks like a regular comedy " in our language. See Biograph. Dram. Art. Still, (John) and Malone's Hist. Ace. of the Eng. Stage. " His breeding," says Sir John Harington, " was from his childhood in good litterature, and partly in musick, which was counted in those days a preparative to divinitie.— 'Po conclude of this bishop, without flatterie, 1 hold him a rare man for preaching, for argtiing, for learning, for living." Bri^Te new o/lli.' Stale of the Church of England in Q. Eliz. time, &c. edit. 16.53. 12mo. p. 119. " Admitted into Davison's Poetical Rapsoiiic, edit. ICIl. And since reprinted in Warton's Ohservttlions on the Paeri, Qucrne, in Waldron's literary Museum, and in Neve's Ciirsnrii Remnrlcs on llie Fogli.'sli Ports. SOME ACCOUNT OF THE LIFE OF SPENSER. but loe ! an ylfavoured mischaunce. My last farewell, whereof I made great accompt, and much marvelled you ehoulde make no mention thereof, I am nowe tolde, (in the Divels name) was thorough one man's negligence quite forgotten, but shoulde nowe undoubtedly have beene sent, whether I hadde come, or no. Seing it can now be no otherwise, I pray you take all togither, wyth all their faultes : and nowe I hope you will vouchsafe mee an answeare of the largest size, or else I tell you true, you shall bee verye deepe in my debte ; notwythstandyng thys other sweete, but ehorte letter, and fine, but fewe verses. But I woulde rather I might yet see youre owne good selfe, and receive a reciprocall farewell from your owne sweet© mouth. Ad Ormtissimum -virum, multisjam dm nominihus Olarisdmum, G. H., Immerito sui, mox in Gallias Navigaturi, 'EutuX"*'' Sic Tnalu8 egregium, sic non inimicus amicum, Sicq; novus veterem jubet ipse Poeta Poetam. Salvere ; ac coelo, post saecula multa, secundo Jam reducem, coelo mapfe qukm nunc ipse, secundo Utier ; Ecce deus {modo sit deus ille, renixiim Qui vocet in scelus, & juratos perdat amores,) Ecce deus mihi clara dedit modo signa marinuB, Et sua veligero lenis parat asquora ligno : Mox sulcando suas etiam pater jEoIus iras Ponit, & ingentes animos Aquilonis Cuncta vijs sic apta meis ; ego solus ineptus. Nam mihi ncscio quo mens saucia vulnere, dudura Fluctuat ancipiti pelago, dum navitaproram Inviilidam validus rapit, hue Amor & rapit illuc ; Consilijs Ratio melioribus usa, decusq; Immortale levi diffissa Cupidinis ai'cu, Angiuiur hoc dubio, & portu vexamur in ipso. Magne pharetrati nunc tu contemptor Amorig (Id tibi dij nomen precor baud impune remittant) Hos nodos exsolve, & eris mihi magnus Apollo: Spiritus ad summos, scio, te generosus honorea Existimulat, niajusq; docet spirare Po6tam. Qu^m levis est Amor, & tamen baud levis est amor oxnnl'^l Ergo nihil laudi reputas aequale perenni, Prieq; sacro sanct^ splendods imagine, tanti Cietera qua vecors uti nuraina vulgus adorat ; Prjedia, Amieitias, TJrbana peculia, Nummos, Q,U£eq; placent oculis, Formas, Spectacula, Amores, Conculcare soles ut humum, & ludibria senslis; Digna meo certe Harveio, sententia digna Oratore Amplo, & generoso pectore, quam non Stoica formidet veterum sapientia, vinclis Sancire seternis ; sapor baud tamen omnibus idem. Dicitur effaeti proles facunda LaSrtas, Quamlibet ignoti jactata per asquora coelJ, Inq; procelloso longum exsul gurgite, ponto Pras tamen amplexu lachrymosae conjugis, ortuB Caelestes, divClmq; thoros sprevisse beatos; Tantfim Amor, & Mulier, vel amore potentior, Ilium; Tu tamen illudis (tua Magnificentia tanta est, PraBq; subumbrata splendoris imagine, tanti Prffiq; illo, meritis famosis, nomine parto ; Caetera quse vecors uti numina vulgus adorat, Pra?dia, Amicitias, Armenta, Peculia, Nummos, Quseq; placent oculis, Formas, Spectacula, AmoreSj QuEeq; placent ori, quEeq; auribus, omnia temnisj Nffi tu grande sapis! {sapor at sapientia non est,} Omnis & in parvis bene qui scit desipuisse, Saepe supercilijs palmam sapientibusaufert ; Ludit Aristippum modo tetrica tuiba sophorllm; Mitia purpureo moderantem verba tyranno, I/udit Arihtippus dictamina vana sophorum, Quos levis ©mensi male torquet culicis umbra. Et quisquis plaeuisse studet heroibus actis, Desipuisse studet ; sic gratia crescit ineptis. Deniq; laurigeris quisquis sua tempora vittis Insignire volet, populoq; plaeere faventi, Desipere insanuadicit, turpemq; pudendie StultitiEB laudem quserit. Pater Ennius unua Dictus, innumeris sapiens; laudatur at ipse CarmLna vesano fudisse loquentia vino: SOME ACCOUNT OF THE LIFE OF SPENSER. Nec tu, (pace tnS,) nostri Cato maxime sdcli, Nomen honorati sacrum meieare PuetiP, Quantumvisillustre canas, & nobile carmen, Ni stultire velis ; sic stultorum omnia plena ! Tuta sed in medio superest via gurgite ; nam qui Nec reliqnis nimium vult desipuisse videri, Nec siipuisse nimis, sapicntem dixcris ; unum Hinc te merserit unda, illine conibusserit ignis ; Nec tu delieias nimis aspernare fliientes, Nec ser6 Dominam venientem in vota, nec aurum, Si sapis, oblatum : Curijs ea Fabricijsq; Linque, viris miseris miseranda sophismata, quondam Grande sni decus ij, nostri sed dcdecus fevi ; Nec soctare nimis ; res utraq; criniine plena. Hoc bene qui callet (si quia tamen hoc bene callet) Scribe vel invito sapientem hunc Socrate solum. Vis facit una pios ; justos facit altera, A alt'ra 3i)gregie cordata, ac fortia pectora; veriim Omne tulit punctum qui miscuit utile dulci. Dij mihi dulce diu dederant, veriim utile nunquam ; Utile nuncetinm, 6 utinam quoq ; dulce dedissent 1 I>ij mihi, quippe dijs tequalia maxima parvis, Ni nimis invideant mortalibus esse beatis, Dulce simul tribuisse queant, simul utile ; tanta Sed Fortuna tua est, pariter qu;eq; utile quseq; Dulce dat ad placitum : saivo nos sydere nati Qusesitum imus earn per Jnhospita Caucasa lon^fr, Perq; Pyrenieos monies, Babylonaq; tuipom ; Quod si quffisitum nec ibi invenerimus, ingens ^quor inexhaustis permensi erroribus tiltra Fluctibus in medijs socij quasremus Ulyssi? ; I*assibus inde deam fessis comitabimur ajgram, Nobile cui furtum quaerenti defuit orbis : Naraq; sinu pudet in patrio, tenebrisq; pudendis, Non nimis ingenio Juvenem infoelice virentes Officija frustri depcrdere vilibus annos ; Frugibus ife vacnas speratis cernere spicas. Ibimus erg6 statim ; (quis eunti fausta precetur?) Et pede clivosas fesso calcabimus Alpes. Quis dabit interei conditas rore Biitanno, Quis tibi Littenilas, quis carmen amore petulcum I Musa sub Oebalij desueta cacum ne montis, Flebit inexhausto tarn longa silentia planctu, Lugebitq; sacrum lacrymis Helicona tacentem ; Harveiusq; bonus (charus licet omnibus idem) Idq; sue merito prope suavior omnibus, unus Angelus &i Gabriel, quamvis comitatns amicia Innumeris, GeniQmq; choro stipatus amasno, Immerito tamen unum absentem s^p^ requiret ; Optabitq; Utmdm mens his Edmundus ade'set. Qui nova scripsisset, nec amores conticuisset Ipse snos ; & scepe animo verbisq; benignia Fausta precaretur, Beus ilium aliquando rediicat ! &c. Plnra vellera per Charitee, sed non licet per Musas. Vale, Vale plurimum. Mi amabilissime Harveie, meo cordi, meorum omnium longfe cbarissime. I was minded also to have sent you some English verses, or rymes, for a farewell ; but, by my troth, I have no spare time in the world, to thinke on such toycs, that you kuowe will demaund a freer head than mine is presently. I beseeche you by all your curtesies and graces, let me be answered, ere I goe : which will be, (I hope, I feare, I thinke) the next weeke, if I can be *> dispatched of my Lorde. I goe thither, as sent by him, and maintained most-what of him : and there am to employ my time, my body, my minde, to his honours service. Thus, with many superhartie commendations and recommendations to your selfe, and all my fiiendes with you, I ende my last farewell, not thinking any more to write to you before I goe : and with all com mitting to your faithfull credence the eternall memorie of our everlasting friendship ; the inviolable memorie of our unspotted friendshippe ; the sacred memorie of our vowed friend- ship ; which I beseech you continue with usuall writings, as you may ; and of all things let me heare some newes from you. As gentle M. Sidney, I thanke his good worship, hath required of me, and so promised to doe againe. Q^ii monet, ut facias, quod jam facts; you knowe the rest ** See the quotation, however, presently cited from Harvey's answer to this Letter. SOME ACCOUNT OF THE LIFE OF SPENSER. You may alwayes send them most safely to me by Mistresse Kerke, and by none other. So once againe, and yet once more, farewell most hartily, mine owne good Master H. and love me, as I love you, and thinke upon poore Immerito, as he thinketh uppon you. Leycester House, this 16 of October, 1579 «. Per mare, per terras, Vimis.mortunsq ; Tuus Immerito." In Harvey's answer to this Letter, dated " Trinitie Hall, 23. Octob. 1579 " he desires Spenser to give him "leave to playe the counsaylour a while ;" and he conjures him, "by the contents of the Verses and Rymes enclosed,'' (\\z.Ceriame Latin Verses, of the frailtie and mutabilitie of all things, saving onely mrtue ; written by M. Doctor Norton, paraphrastically varied by M. Doctor Goulding- ham, translated by o'de Maister Wythepol, and paraphrastically varied in English by Harvey himself;) "and by al the good and had Spirites that attende upon the Authors themselves, immediately upon the contemplation thereof, to abandon all other fooleries, and honour Vertue, the onely immortal! and surviving Accident amongst so manye mortall and ever-perishing Substances." After this judicious advice, he presently notices the English poem which Spenser had sent him : "Your Englishe Trimetra I lyke better than perhappes yoii will easily believe ; and am to requite them wyth better or worse, at more convenient leysure. Marry, you must pardon me, I fiude not your warrant so sufficiently good and substantiall in lawe, that it can persuade me they are all so precisely for the feete, as your selfe over-partially weene and over- confidently avouche ;" and he accordingly specifies some errors committed by Spenser in this example of English verse composed according to Latin rules ; an attempt, which, however once the favourite employment of our poets in the age of Elizabeth, will be always too repulsive to gain many admirers or imitators ; requiring, as it generally requires, a pronunciation most dismal, most unmusical, or most ridiculous ; an attempt indeed, which has not escaped the lash of . And Queene Mary, his daughter, for one Epithalamie or nuptiall Song made by Vargas, a Spanish Poet, at her marriage with kiug Phillip in Winchester, gave him during his life two hundred crownes pension." After the publication of the Faerie Queene in 1590, Spenser returned to Ireland. And such was now the fame of his poetical character, that the bookseller, for whom that work had been printed, eagerly collected together and published, in the succeeding year, "Complaints, con- taining mndrie small Poemes of the Worlds Vanitie, viz. 1. The Ruines of Time. 2. The Teares of the Muses. 3. Virgils Gnat. 4. Prosopopoia, or Mother Hubberds Tale. 6. The Ruines of • An apparent allusion to Faer. Qu. ii. xii. 3, where the poet describes the GuJ/e of Sreedinesse. b Life of Dryden, p. 84. xi i- t. t. ^ e Life of Spenser prefi,^ed to the folio edition of his Works in 1679; Winstanley s Lives of the English Poets: niighes-s Life of Spenser ; Dr. Birch's Life of Spenser ; Life of Spenser in the Universal Magazine, vol. xlix. &o. m oj Petrarch, there is an address apparently intended to the Lady to whom the Muiopotmos is dedi- ' The spirit of versifying the Psalms, and other parts of the Bible, at the heginning of the Reformation, was, says Mr. Wjirton, almost asepidemick as psalm-singing. Hist, of Eng. Poet. vol. iii. p 180. Of i?cc?«Wrt*(ej I find Dr. Drant to have been a translator into Latin verse. See Tanner's 5/ft. i3n'(. p. 233. Andl have seen a laboured poetical paraphrase of this Book in English, by Henry L k, published in l.**!)?. e In the age of Elizabeth, numerous were the poetioal versions of the Canticles. See Warton's Hist, of Eng. Poet. vol. iii. p, 317, &c. Tasstt appears to have employed his pen in a very poetical manner in a Canzone, taken, in some degree, from the Song of Son/is. See this beautiful Canzone, first printed from a manuscript in the Barberini Library at Home, (N* 30(l9.) 'n Maty*s Review, May lyiifi. Art. iv. ** See before, p. xiv, ' See his Hymne in honour of Love.ver, 265, where he describes the circumstances tliat "make a lovers life a wretches hell ; " and where he adds, in his address to Love, ver. 278. " So thon thy folke, through paincs of Pvrfjaiorie, " Dost beare unto thy blisse and heavens glorie." ) See before, p. xx. ' William l-Iunnis, a gentleman of the Chapel Royal under Edward the sixth, and afterwards Master of the Chapel under Elizabeth, might suggest to Spenser this employment of his time; for he wrote and published "Seven sobs of a sirrowfuU soule for sinne, comprehending those seven Psalmes of the princelie prophet David comroonlie called Pcpiiitentiall ; framed into a forme of familiar praiers, and reduced into meeter, &c." It appears that C.amoens, the unfortunate bard of Portugal, had undertaken al^o a translation of these seven Psalms. The account is related in a manner so interesting by Lord StrangFord, the elegant translator of part of Camoens's poetry, as to require no apology for its introduction here ; " A caviilier named Ruy de Camera, having called upon our author [Camoens] to finish a piielical version of the seven penitential Psalms ; raising his head from his miserable pallet, and pointing to his faithful slave, he exclaimed, • Alas ! when I was a poet, I was young, and happy, and blest with the love of ladies ; but now I am a forlorn deserted wretch. See ! there stands my poor Antonio, vainly supplicating four-pence to purchase a little coals; I have them not to give him! ' The cavalier, as Sousa quaintly relates, closed his heart and his purse, and quitted the room. Such were the grandees of Portugal I " Poems &c. from the Portuguese of Luis de Camoens, *c I2mo 18113, p. 24. With respect to the translation of several select Psalms into English verse, I think it not foreign to the subject of this note, and I conceive it due to the history of our Poetry, to mention that, among the numerous invaluable manuscripts which belonged to the late Duke of Bridgewater, and now belong to the Marquis of Stafford, there is a volume entitled, "The Soules Banquet, made up of divers divine Rarities ; •■ in which are "Divers selected Psalmes of David, in verse, of a different composure from those used in the Church, by Fra; Davison esq. deceased, and other Gent." Of these translations, some are remarkably beautiful. The Poetical Rapsodie of Davison, already mentioned, (n xv.) was published in 1602 and in 1611. . \r. / I Ponsonby, the bookseller, has adopted the name which is applied to Spenser on the publication of the Shepheariil C' visit by the Queen ; who was received with all the accustomed pageantry of elder days ; and, on her departure, was addressed with a farewell speech, and with the present of an anchor Jewell, by " the place of Harvile personified, attired in black." And here the Arcades was performed, long after the death of her husband, by ' persons of her own family, the cliildren (it is conjectured) of the Earl of Bridgewater ; on whose account the inimitable mask of ° Comus also was composed, and by some of them represented. Before I pass to the consideration of Virgils Gnat, wliich follows the Teares of the Muses ; it is necessary to observe that these tears or declamations, however elegant, present a melancholy picture of fancied or real discouragements to learning as then existing ; which circumstance 1 shall further notice in the account of Mother Huhberds Tale. To the Teares of the Muses succeeds the translation of Virgils Gnat, long since dedicated, as Spenser '' tells us, to the Earl of Leicester. The Dedication mentions an enigmatical wrong, which Spenser pretends to have received ; and of which I do not consider myself the Oedipus, whom the poet challenges, to unfold the meaning. Mr. Upton conjectures this wrong, resulting from the Earl of Leicester's displeasure, to have been '"owing to some kind of officious sedulity in Spenser, who much desired to see his patron married to the queen of England. The historians are full of the Queen's particular attachments to the Earl. She expressed, says Camden, such an inclination towards him, that some have imputed her regard to the influence of the stars. Melvil says, in his Memoirs, that queen Elizabeth freely declared that, had she ever designed to have married, her inclinations would have led her to make choice of him for a husband. • CoUins's Peerage, Art. Earls of D rby, vol. 2. p. 470. edit. 1768. > Ibid. ° Colin Clouts come home again, ver. 566. ' ?^.'i'°^' "' ™''"'' ^' ^^'" ^"^ ^^' '^^^^S'^ "' "i« Egerton family in the possession of the present Earl of Bridgewater. " I"""- ' Lysons's Middlesex, p. 108, &c. T Lodge's Illustr. of Bril. Hist. vol. 3 p. 133. Talbot Papers, vol. 4. p. 43. I See the edition of Milton published in 1801, vol. 5. p. 146, &o. . i^m _ ]()4_204 * See the Dedication to the Poem. c preface to his edition of the Faerie Queenc, pp. :.vi. iviL SOME ACCOUNT OF THE LIFE OF SPENSER. For onely wortbj' you, through prowess priefe, (Yf living man mote worthie be,) to be her liefe. — Faer. Qm. i. ix. 17. And, according to my plan, -with respect to the historical allusions in the Faerie Qiieene, Prince Arthur means the Earl of Leicester." — Possibly the Earl's displeasure might liave been excited, in consequence of Spenser's pleading in behalf of archbishop Grindal, who is ° believed to have incurred the Earl's enmity on account of his determination to prosecute an Italian physician, whom Leicester wished to protect, as a bigamist. The next composition, in the Complaints, is Mother Hubberds Tale ; which is dedicated to the Lady Compton and Mountegle. This Lady was Anne, the ' fifth daughter of Sir John Spenser, distinguished also, in the Pastoral of Colin Clouts come home again, by the name of CliarUlis. She was married first to Sir William Stanley, Lord Mountegle ; next to Henry Compton, Lord Compton ; and lactly to Robert Sackville, Lord Buckhurst, afterwards Earl of Dorset ; whom the author of the Life of Spenser, prefixed to Mr. Church's edition of the Faerie Queene, has confounded with his father, Thomas Lord Buckhurst. I cannot agree with Mr. Malone, ^ that this Lady was the widow of Lord Compton at the time of Spenser's inscribing this Poem to her ; because Spenser tells us, in the Dedication, that " he had lont; sllhens composed this Poem in the raw conceipt of his youth;" and Lord Compton died in 1589. But in the Poem there is an allusion to Sir Pliilip Sidney, under the description of the brave Courtier, as then living ; and he died in 1586. There seems also an allusion in it, by the expressions applied to the coxcomical Ape at Court, to the same person whom Harvey represents, in his answer to Spenser's Letter of April 7, 1580, as the mirrour of Tuscanism, as a ^ Marimfico, &c. The Lady therefore was now the wife of Lord Compton. But, in Colin Clouts come home again, she is the wife of Sackville. To this Lady, as to her Sisters, the Poem is inscribed, with "the humble affection and faithful! duetie, which," the poet urges, "I have alwaies professed, and am bound to beare to that house frcym whence yee spring." In this "" satirical Poem, reflections on the general instability of Court-favour have often been cited as a proof of Lord Burleigh's opposition to Spenser : •• ]Mo8t miserable man, whom wicked fate " Hath brought to Court, to sue for had-ywist, *' That few have founrl, and manle one hath mist! " Full little knowest thou, that hast not tride, " What hell it is, in suing long to bide : " To lose good daj'es, that might be better spent ; *' To wast long niglits in pensive discontent ; . •' To speed to-day, to be put back to morrow ; *' To feed on hope, to pine with feare and sorrow; ** To have thy Princes grace, yet want her Peeres; *' To have thy asking, yet waite manie yeeres ; •• To fret thy soule with crosses and with cares ; " To eate thy heart through comfortlesse dispaires ; " To fawne, to crowche, to waite, to ride, to ronne, " To spend, to give, to want, to be undonne. " ITnhappie wight, borne to desastrous end, " That doth his life in so long tendance spend I " This passage is ' supposed to have been represented to Lord Burleigh aa a censure upon him. But, at the close of the sixth Book of his Faerie Queene, Spenser denies that it was his intention, in any of his writings, to reflect on this " mighty peer." And^ alluding to the monster Detraction who even " spares not the gentle Poet's rime," he proceeds ; ' SeePtrype's Li/e 0/ Archbishop Grindal, f. 224. And more particularly Ilarington's Br/c/e View of the State 0/ the Church, Ac. 1653, p. 5. • Dr. Birch's Life of Spenser, Upton's Pref. ut supr. Biograph. Brit. &c. ' Inquiry into the authenticity of the pretended Shakspcare papers, .^-c. p, 63. B See ver. 665. The precise expression also of Harvey, Three Letters, ito. 1580. p, 36. "For life Mugnificoes, ic." ali'eady cited in p. xxii. ^ Harvey appears not to have approved of this poetical satire. For he writes ; •* I must need.s sny, Mather Hiitihurd in heat of choler, forgetting the pure sansuine of her sweetc J'acry Queene, wilfully oversliott her nialcontented selfe: as elsewhere I have specified at large, with the good leave of unspotted frjend'?'iipp." 1 See Dr. Birch's Life of Spen&er. SOME ACCOUNT OF THE LIFE OF SPENSER. *' Ne may this homely Verse, of many meanest, '* Hope to escape his venemous despite, •• More than my formbr Writs, all wene they cleanest •* From bJamefull blot^ and free from all that wite *' }FUh which some wicked tongues did it backehitCt " And bring into a migMy Perrs displeasure, ** That never so deserved to endite." These " former Writs" are conjectured by Jlr. Upton, to be tlie Pastorals ; in which the poet*8 commendations of archbishop Grindal, and his reflections on bishop Aylmer, are the topicks that were offensive to Burleigh. Grindal, whom Spenser reverenced, had certainly experienced some opposition from Burleigh, long before the publication of the Pastorals. In a very spirited letter to that nobleman, dated ^ June 26. 1574, the prelate vindicates the attack made upon his character, to which Burleigh, it seems, had given credit ; and demands, in consequence of his good name being thus unjustly blotted, and his oiSce slandered, an immediate trial. Three years afterwards, being then archbishop of Canterbury, he was ' confined to his house and sequestered. And to this disgrace, after describing the merits of Grindal, Spenser alludes ia the seventh Eclogue of the Shepheards Calender : Mar. But say mee, what is Algrind, hee That is so oft bynempt ? Tho. Hee is a shepheard great in gree, But hath bene long ypent, &.C." Tlie interference of the poet we must therefore suppose displeasing to the policy of the statesman. But what can we say of the lines in the Ruines of Time, which evidently point at Burleigh? n> '* For he, that now welds all things at his will, " Scorns th' one and th* other in his deeper skill. '* O griefe of griefea I O gall of all good heartes ! *' To see that vertiie should despised bee '* Of him, that first was raisde for vertuous parts, " And now, broad spreading like an aged tree, " Lets none shoot up that nigh him planted bee : *• O let the man, of whom the Muse is scorned, *• Nor alive nor dead be of the Muse adorned ! " I consider the Huines of Time to have been written almost immediately after the publication of the first edition of the Faerie Queene ; for it could not have been written till "after the death of Sir Francis Walsingham, who died in April 1590 ; and Spenser's Letter to Sir Walter Raleigh, at tJie end of this edition, is dated in January 1689-90. With the Faerie Qtieene & Sonnet had been transmitted to Burleigh, in which S])enser endeavours to sooth the lord treasurer to an acceptance of his " idle rimes." But in vain. The Introduction to the fourth Book of the Faerie Queene, the continuation of the former edition^ published in 1596, bears testi- mony to the coldness of Burleigh : " The rugged forhead, that with grave foresight *' Weldes kingdomes causes and affaires of state, " My looser rimes, I wote, doth sharply wite " For praising love, &lc." Burleigh's disapprobation was probably shewn at the first appearance of the Faene(^eene; and, to this disdain of his labours, I ascribe the honest indignation of tlie poet in the P/uines of k state-Papers, by Murdin, p. 275. . Strype's Life of Grindal. p. 231. '« Tliefe lines are inaccurately printed in many editions. But the first, and most flagrant, departure from theoriginal is in the folio of Ifill. In consequence of the alteration, the reader would look in vain for this aUu&ion to b, particular person ; for the application is rendered general: " For such as now have most the world at will, •* Scorn th' one and th" other &e." And, in the remainder of the allusion, the singular number is discarded for the plural ; which Hughes and othcra follow. The editor of the first folio thought the passage perhaps, thus generalised, a happy touch at the times f or waa anxitius, by the removal of particulars, to apptase the shade of Burleigh ! n See the note on the Ruines of Time, ver. 436. SOME ACCOUNT OF THE LIFE OF SPENSER. Time. In the Teares of the Muses, (whicli I believe to be a much earlier composition of Spenser,) the following lines, often cited as a corollary to the proof of the poet having offended the lord treasurer, are certainly too general to offend a particular person. The lord treasurer might, with equal propriety, have been offended at the title of the chapter in Puttenham's ' Arte of Eiijiyh Poesie, already cited. " Thpir gi-eat revenues all in sumptuous pride ** They spend, that nought to lenrning they may spare ; " And the rich fee, which Poets wont divide, " Now Parasites and Sycophants do share.'* Mr. Warton is of opinion ''that Burleigh was a Puritan; and that the Puritans, who were numerous in the time of Elizabeth, were peculiarly characterised for their liatred of poetrj', however instructive. Yet the Earl of Leicester, I must observe, was the friend of Spenser and of the ' Puritans. And it has been justly observed by Dr. Birch, 'that Burleigh's neglect of Spenser is not to be attributed so much to any personal prejudice against him or contempt of poetry, as to the poet's early attachment to the Earl of Leicester, and afterwards to the Earl of Essex ; who were both successively heads of a party opposite to the lord treasurer. Hence perhaps the expression of Spenser also in 3Iother liuhherds Tale : " Of ijJen ofarmes he had but small regard, " liutkept them lowe, and atreigned yerie hard. " Fur men of learning little he esteemed, &c." Mother Hubberds Tale must not be dismissed, without remarking the political knowledge which Spenser displays in it. Let the reader attentively peruse the poem from ver. 1119. to ver. 1224, and he will probably not deny the discernment of the poet, even if he applies his positions to the history of modern Europe. This Poem, I must add, was re-published in 1784, with a Dedication, highly satirical, to the Hon. Charles James Fox, by ' George Dempster, Esq. M.P. The subsequent Poems in the Complaints have been already noticed. By the date of the dedication of Daphnaida, (the next publication,) we find Spenser in London on the first of January, 1591-2. This beautiful Elegy was written upon the death of Douglas Howard, daughter and heir of Henry Lord Howard, Viscount Byndon ; and wife of Arthur Gorge or Gorges Esquire, afterwards kniglited. It is dedicated to her ' aunt, the Ladie Helena, Marchioness of Northampton. The afflicted husband is introduced into the Poem, under the name of Alcyon, as bewailing the death of a White Lioness which he had been so happy as to find, and had tenderly nursed. The White Lion being one of the Duke of Norfolk's supporters to his armorial bearings, " the " riddle of the loved Lionesse,'* as the poet calls it, is easily explained. In the Dedication Spenser avows the " goodwill which he bears unto Master Arthur Gorges, a lover of learning and vertue ;" and again he notices him, with peculiar elegance, in Colin Clouts come home again, not only as inconsolable for the loss of his be- loved Daphne, but as 'known to the Muses and his comrades by notes of higher mood. Sir Arthur Gorges, however, has hitherto been recorded as a man of genius, without a proof of the assertion. I am happy to add his name to the list of English poets ; and tlie reader will be plensed witli the following specimen of his talents and his modesty. It is the Sonnet, addressed to the reader of " The Olymjiian Catastrophe, dedicated to the worthy memory of the most heroical Lord Henry, late illustrious Prince of Wales, &c. By S' Artliur Gorges, Knight, 1C12 ;" a poem in manuscript of considerable length, together with some Sonnets ; preserved amongst numerous treasures of a similar nature, which belonged to the late Duke of Bridge- water, and now belong to the Mar juis of Stafford. " Nn praise '^f Pnesic do I affect, *' Ntir flatteries hoped meed doth me encite; " See p. xxix. P Manuscript remarks on the Sonnets prefi-ted to the Faerie Queene. 1 See the note nn Cartwriglit, p. xxi. ' Life of Spenser. • From tlie information of Charles Dilly, Esq. by wliom the work was published. t Sec the Dedication. " See ver. 177. ' See ver. .190, 391. SOME ACCOUNT OF THE LIFE OF SPENSER. " Such base-born thoughts as servile I reiect ; " Sorrow doth dictate what ray Zeale doth write : " Sorrow for that rich tresor we have lost, " Zeale to the memory of what wee had ; ■' And that is all they cann, that cann say most ; *' So sings my Muse in zeale and sorrow clad ; " So sunge Achilles to his silver harpe, " When fowle affront had reft his faire delight ; " So sings sweet Philomell against the sharpe ; " So sings the Swann, whpn life is taking flight : " So sings my Zeale the noats that Sorrowe weepes ; •' Which Antheam sunge, my Muse for ever sleepes." I come now to the consideration of the Pastoral, entitled Colin Clouts coine liome arjain; tha Dedication of which to Sir Walter Raleigh is dated December 27. 1591. But that date must be an errour of the press. The Poem exhibits internal evidence of having been written at a subsequent period. In the first place, there is a lamentation in it on the death of Ferdinando, Karl of Derby, who is styled Amyntas ; an appellation by which Nash also appears to have dis- tinguished him. This nobleman, as I have already stated, died in April 1594. He is described by Spenser as . w '* the noblest swaine, " That ever piped on an oaten quill ; ** Both did he other which could pipe, maintaine, '* And eke could pipe himsel/e with passing skill." Of his poetical abilities a specimen is preserved, in the ' Antiquarian Repertory, from a manu- script that belonged to Sir John Hawkins. Spenser incurred the gentle reproof of Nash, in consequence of his neglecting to salute this patron of learning in the same manner, as he liad saluted other "English heroes," at the end of the Faerie Queene. Spenser perhaps felt the reproof ; and resolved, in this Poem, to make some atonement for his neglect. The estimation in which this nobleman was held, is described in very lively terms by Nash ; and is worthy of citation as well on the account of the party commended as of the party blamed. " ^ From generall fame," says Nash, " let me digress to my private experience ; and, with a toong unworthy to name a name of such worthines, affection atelie emblason, to the eies that woonder, the matchlesse image of honor and magnificent rewarder of vertue, loves eagle-borne Ganimed, thrice noble Amyntas. — None but Desert should sit in Fames grace ; none but Hector be remembred in the chronicles of Prowesse ; none but thou, most curteous Amyntas, be the second misticall argument of the Knight of the Redcrosse. — And heere, heavenlie Spencer, I am most highlie to accuse thee of forgetfulnes, that, in that honourable catalogue of our English Heroes which insueth the conclusion of thy famous Faerie Queene, thou wouldst let so speciall a piller of Nobilitie passe unsaluted. The verie thought of his far derived discent, and extraor- dinarie parts wherewith he astonieth the world, and drawes all harts to his love, would have inspired thy forewearied Muse with new furie to proceede to the next triumphs of thy statelie Goddesse ! — But, as I in favor of so rare a scholler suppose, with this counsell he refraind his mention in the first part, that he might with full saile proceed to his due commendations in the second. Of this occasion long since I happened to frame a Sonnet, which being wholie intended to the reverence of this renowmed Lord, to whom I owe all the utmoste powers uf my love and dutie, I meant heere for variety of stile to insert. PL'j-using yesternight, with idle eyes, 7'he Fairy Singers stately-tuned verse ; And viewing, after chapmens wonted guise. What strange contents the title did rehearse; I atreight leapt over to the latter end, "Where, lilie the queint comiedians of our time. That when their Play is doone do fal to ryme, I found short lines to sundry Nobles pend. Whom he, as speciall mirrours, singled fourth To be the Patrons of his Poetry : » CoUn Clouts come home again, ver. 440. i Lord Orford's Royal and Noble Author*. y Supplication of Pierce Pcnnilesse, Sec. 4to. 151*2, at the conclusion. SOME ACCOUNT OF THE LIFE OF SPENSER. I read them all, and i-everenc't their worth ; Yet wondred he left out thy memory. But therefore, guest I, he supprest thy name, Because few words might not comprise thy fame ! Beare with me, gtnfle Poet, thongh I conceive not aright of thy purpose, or be too inquisitive into the intent of thy oblivion ; for liowever my coniecture may misse the cushion, yet shal my speech savour of friendsliip, though it be not alied to iudgement." In Lodge's ^ Illustrations of British History, there is preserved a Letter of tliis nobleman to the Earl of Essex, dated Decemb. 19. 1593 ; which, the learned editor observes, "abounds with good sense, high spirit, and sweetness of temper. An untimely death undoubtedly defrauded him of a conspicuous situation in the history of his country.'' Indeed his accomplishments, as well as his unnatural end occasioned by the resentment of the Jesuits, have been recorded in many publications. But, besides the date of this nobleman's death, there is another convincing proof that this Pastoral was written long after 1591 in the praise assigned to Daniel for his ^'passionate mischance^' which means his ^ Complaint of Rosamond published with his Sonnets in 1592 ; and for his "tragich plaints," which point out his first dramatick publication, the tragedy of ^Cleopatra in 1594. The author of the Life of Spenser, prefixed to Mr. Church's edition of the Faerie Queene, considers the circumstance of Sir Walter Raleigh's disgrace at Court, in consequence of his criminal amour with the daughter of Sir Nicholas Throgmorton, as likewise refuting the date of 1591 in the Dedication of the Pastoral. And he is right in his conjecture, I think ; but not exact in his statement. The disagreement between Kaleigh and Lord Essex, although it occasioned Raleigh's departure from Court, could not, I conceive, be the subject of the " lamentable lay " Of great unkindnesse, and of usage hard, ** Of Cynthia the Ladle of the Sea ;" which Spenser tells us was the e song of his friend. A private '' Letter (as it is entitled) from Raleigh to Sir George Carew, dated Decemb. 27. 1589, of which our historians have taken no notice, seems to shew, that, however jealous Essex might be of him, he was still in favour with the Queen : " Cousen George. For my retrait from the Court, it was uppon good cause, to take order for my prize. If in Irlande they thincke that I am not worth the respectinge, they shall much deceve themselves. I am in place to be beleved, not inferior to any man to plesure or displesure the greatest ; and my oppinion is so receved and beleved as I can anger the best of them ; and therefore if the ' Deputy be not as reddy to steed me as I have bynn to defend hym, be as it may, when S'' William fiitz Williams shalbe in Ingland, I take mysealfe farr his bettres by the honorable offices I hold, as also by thai niceness to her Maiestye w'* still I inioy, and never more. I am willinge to continew towards hym all friendly offices, and I doubt not of the like from hym as well towards mee as my frinds, &c." The displeasure of the Queen, then, is to be attributed to the culpability of Raleigh in regard to the lady whom I have mentioned ; who also became an object of the royal anger, and was with Raleigh ' committed to the Tower in July 1592. She was one of her Majesty's Maids of Honour. They were released from this confinement in the e September following ; and Raleigh, though perhaps not formally admitted to the presence of the Queen, was soon afterwards able to prove the restoration of her favour to » Vol. 3. p. 31. " See Ritaon's Bihliograph. Poetica. Art. Daniel. b See Baker's Biograph. Dramatica, Art. Daniel. <= Colin Clouts come home again, ver. 164. . 605. p. 140, erroneously entered p. 146 in Dr. Wilkins's Catalogue. On the top of this original Letter is written, « A privatt Letter from S' Walter Raleghe to S' G. C. 27- Decemb. 1589." ' Namely, Sir M^'illiam Fitzwilliams, presently mentioned ; who had before been Lord Justice, and Lord Deputj , of Ireland ; and who was again appointed Lord Deputy in 1688. He was succeeded by Sir William Bussell, in 1594." ' See a letter from Sir Edward Stafford to Antony Bacon Esqr. dated July 30. 1692, in Birch's Memoirs of Queen Eliz. vol. 1. p. 79. " If you have any thing to do with Sir Walter Ralegh, or have any love to make to Mrs. Throckmorton ; at the Tower tomorrow you may speak with them, it the countermand come not to-night ; as some think will not he, and particularly he that hath charge to send them thither." B See Collins's Sidney-Papers, &c. vol. 2. pp. 54, 65, where Raleigh appears, by a letter dated June 2. 1597. fully rein- Htatod in the Queen's favour, and graciously readmitted to her presence. SOME ACCOUNT OF THE LIFE OF SPENSER. him by obtaining, from her, the manor of Sherborne in Dorsetshire, wbicli Dr. Coldwell, on his promotion to the bislioprick of Salisbury, had consented to alienate to the Crown ; from whicli prelate, however, there is a Letter, in the " Burleigh State-Papers published by Murdin, addressed to Mr. Henry Brooke, and dated April 10. 1594, in which the conduct of Raleigh on this occasion appears to have been rapacious. But to prove further the influence of Raleigh, and that rigU wdl lie had complained, " That could great Cynthiaes sore displeasure breake, ' ' And move tu trike him to her grace againe ;" I cite the contemporary authority of Sir John Harington : "lAnd to speak first of the Knight who carried the spolia oplma of this bishoprick ; having gotten Sherborne castle, park, and parsonage ; lie was in tlicse dayeslnso great fawur with the Queen, as I may boldly say, that with lesse suit then he was faine to make to her ere he could perfect this his purchase, and with lesse money then he bestowed since in Sherborne in building and buying out leases and in drawing the river through rocks into his garden, he might have very justly, and without oflfeuce of the Church or State, have compassed a much better purchase." It may be proper to add, that Sir Walter had made the only reparation in his power to the degraded character, and injured innocence, of the lady, by marrying her. Spenser has alluded to this intrigue, and its consequences, in the conclusion of the seventh canto of the fourth Book of the Faerie Queene, whicli was first published in 1596. The situation of Raleigh, before he " is restored to former grace againe" in the subsequent oanto, is described in Spenser's happiest manner. It is an iuteresting lamentation over a distressed and disgraced friend. It is the effusion of the Muse " in her sweetest saddest plight." In consequence, then, of the facts which I have brought together, I am led to believe that Decemb. 27. 1594 or 1595 should be the date to tlie Dedication of Colin Clouts come home again. And, having attended to this point, I will now notice some of the contemporary characters which are introduced, under fictitious or real names, in this agreeable poem. The Sheplierd of the Ocean is Sir Walter Raleigh, who had introduced Spenser to the Queen. — Under the name of Astrophel, his other friend and patron. Sir Philip Sidney, " now dead and gone " is deplored ; as under the same title he is the subject of Spenser's Elegy on his death.— Amyntas, as I have before observed, denotes the deceased Earl of Derby.— Under the appellation of Alcyon, as in the Elegy entitled Daphnaida, the accomplished and afilicted Sir Arthur Gorges is designed. Harpalus, "now woxen aged" in the service of the Queen, is probably Barnaby Goose who was J first a retainer to Cecil, and afterwards in 1563 a gentleman-pensioner to the Queen ; in which year he published his " Eglogs, Epitaphs, and Sonnets." — By Corydon, who is described as " meanly waged, yet ablest wit of most" whom Spenser knew, perhaps Abraham Fraunce is intended ; who was the friend of Sidney, and the writer of several poems in Englisli hexameters, as The Lamentations of Amintas, &c. The Countesse of Pembrokes I vychurch, &c. The Lamentations of Corydon, &c. He was called to the Bar of the Court of the Marches of Wales ; and, in 1590, was recommended by Henry Earl of Pembroke as a man in every respect qualified to be the Queen's Solicitor in that Court. ^ But what became of him afterwards does not appear.— Paiin, whom Spenser pronounces " worthie of great praise '* Albe he envie at my rmtlch quill ;" may mean Tliomas Chaloner ; a poet, whom Puttenham, in his Aite of English Poesie, ranks with Spenser ; selecting, as patterns "for aeglogue and pastorall poesie, Sir Philip Sydney and Maister Challener, and that other gentleman who wrate tlie late Sliepheardes Calender." And li Page 575. i Briete View of the Stateo/tfie Church of England^ 8iC. edit. 1653. p. 89. — In short, Raleigh seems to have illustrated the truth of what Spenser so much condemns in Slather Hubberds Tale, ver. 51!), 52U. J See Brydges's edition of Phillips's Theatrum Puetarum Anglicanorum, p. 12G. k Ibid. p. 108. And Biograph. Dram. Art. Fraunce, SOME ACCOUNT OF THE LIFE OF SPENSER. Meres, in Iiis Wits Treasmtj, ranks Chaloner " amongst the best fur pastoral." Thus commended, lie might be led to " envie at the rustiok quill" of a poet, whom he perhaps considered a rival iu this species of fame. — Akon, I am induced to thinlf, is intended for Thomas Watson ; a writer of numerous sonnets and madrigals, and ' commended as the English Petrarch. He is also numbered among the principal writers of pastoral poetry ; and is classed «> with Harvey, Leland, Newton, and others of his countrymen, for having attained good report, and honourable advancement, as a Latin poet. Spenser apparently wished him to "raise his tunes from lays," from songs and sonnets, to loftier themes. He has bestowed on Spenser a very neat " encomium, which I have given in the note below. — Old Palemon seems to point at Thomas Churchyard, who wrote a prodigious number of poetical pieces ; of which the bare "list is sufficient to justify the humorous remark of Spenser, after he has observed that the melancholy pipe of this aged bard may make the hearer rew : " Yet he himselfe may rewed be more right, " That sung so long untill quite hoarse he grew ! !" Having been a most laborious writer for half a century, he is '' said to have died, poor, in 1604. To these fictitious appellations succeed the real names oi Alabaster and Daniel ; of whom the former is i represented by Antony Wood as " the rarest poet and Grecian that any one age or nation produced." He was educated in Trinity College, Cambridge. Of this distinguished person I will relate some circumstances, which were not known to Wood. Of his poem in manuscript, the Eliseis, which Spenser highly celebrates, I have given an account in the ' note on its introduction into this Pastoral. He appears to have received an offer of the rectory of Brettenham in Suffolk from the Lord Keeper Egerton, which he declined, as being not agree- able to his expectation, in a " Letter accompanied with a copy of elegant Latin hexameters to his Lordship. He relinquished, as Wood relates, the Church of England for that of Home ; but afterwards returned to his deserted mother, and obtainfed considerable ecclesiastical pre- ferments. He died iu 1 040. His conversion to Popery had probably taken place about 169S, in which year he published his motives for his conduct. In 1604 he was engaged in a contro- versy, on account of his new profession of faith, with an antagonist of the highest reputation as a scholar and Protestant Divine, Dr. Will. ' Bedell, afterwards Bishop of Kilmore ; an admirer and imitator also of Spenser. Alabaster was undoubtedly a man of great learning. In his Roxana, however, which Dr. Johnson has greatly extolled, there is certainly much false taste, as Mr. Warton " long since observed. Herrick, in his Hesperides, has addressed a poem to him on the subject of his great attainments and various labours. Of Daniel, who is well known to the lovers of our elder poetry, and valued for his judicious reflections as well as the sweetness of his language, an extensive account is unnecessary. By Spenser's distinguishing him as "a new shepheard late up sprong," he alludes to his first pub- » By Meres, in his Wits Treasury, 1598. See also Brydges, ut supr. p. 213. ™ Ibid. ^ " Sed quid eam [the Queen] refero, quse, noetro carmine maior, " Est cantanda tuo, dulcis Spencere, cothurno, " Cuius inest uumeris Hiblasi eopia mellis. " Tu quoq; nobiscum (quoniam tu noster Apollo) " Lugentem solare Deam. quoties Melibcei " Tristia lacrymulis preciosis f unera deflet « Die illi (tu naraque potes ftelice camrenai ** Arcadas innumeros, quanquam Melibo^us obiuit, " Prsestantes superesse viros, similes Melibcei. *' Damcetam memora, quo non prfficlarior alter, &c.*' Meliboeus Thomse Watsoni, sive Ecloga in Obitum Uonoratissimi Viri, Domini Francisci, "NValsinghauii, ICquitia Aurati, &c. 4to. Lond. J590. Sign. D. " See the Bibliographia Poetica, Art. Churchyard. p Ibid. *1 Athen. Ox. Fasti, vol. 1. col. 144. ' See Colin Clouts come home again, vcr. 403. a Among the Bridgewater manuscripts. t Among the Lambeth manuscripts (No. 772-) there is a valuable and curious work, entitled *• A Defence of the Answer to Mr. Alablaster's Four Demands against a Treatise intituled The Catholicks Reply upon Bedel's Answer to Mr. Alablaster's four Demands." The Letter at the beginning is addressed *' to the Worshipfull and my loveing fiiLiid Mr. Ambrose Jermyn ;" and is dated, " Bury, this 25'. February, 1G04, yo'. M'orbliipps in Christ Jesus, VVilham Bedell. •" Milton's Smaller Poctds, 2d ed. p. 430. xl SOME ACCOUNT OF THE LIFE OF SPENSER. lication, entitled "Delia, contaj niug ceitayne sonnets, with' the complaint of Kosaraond," in 1592. The " last, though not least," in Spenser's enumeration of English poets, is Action; under ■which name I believe Michael Drayton is designed. Spensei-'s praise of him as "a gentle shepheard," applies to his "Shepheards Garland, fashioned in nine Eglogs, &c." published in l.i93. And the subsequent commendation ; •* Whise Muse, full of high thoughts invention, " Doth like hiinselfe heroically soimd ; " seems to point at his "Matilda, the faire and chaste daughter of the Lord Robert Fitz- water, &c." published in 1594 ; in the preface to which, Drayton informs "the true favorers of Poesie," that their " kind and favourable acceptance of his late discourse of the life and death of Piers Gareston, emboldened him to publish this tragicall historic of his Matilda." He pays the following compliment to Spenser, at the exordium of his Matilda, in an address to the Queen : '' And thou, O Beta, soveraigne of his thought ; " Englands Diana, let him thinke on thee ! " By thy perfections let his Muse he taught ; « And ill his breast so deepe imprinted be, " That he may write of sacred Chastitie ; " Though not like Collin in thy Britomart, " Yet loves asmuch, although he wants his arte" Of the Ladies celebrated in Colin Clouts come honie again, Cynthia, the queen, is the most con- spicuous object, on account of the praise applied as well to her general conduct as to her par- ticular sliill in " poetical composition. — " Urania, sister unto Astrofell," is Mary, Countess of Pembroke. — The "not lees praiseworthy" Theana is Anne, the third wife of the Earl of Warwick who died in Feb. 1589-90 ; whose widow she remained till death. Spenser notices her exemplary widowhood in the Raines of Time, as well as in this Pastoral. Nor has he omitted to mention her authority at Court ; of which the reader may see several instances in the Sidney State-Papers, especially in the year 1595. — Her sister Marian is Margaret, Countess of Cumberland. To these Ladies Spenser dedicates his Four Hymns ; which circumstance is further noticed in its place. — MansUia is the Marchioness of Northampton, to whom Daplmaiia is inscribed. — Galathea and Necera appear to be Irish beauties, whose names I am not able to unravel. — To these succeeds the beautiful Lady Kich, under the poetical name of (Stella, which was given her by Sir Philip Sidney ; who, for * her sake, wrote the poem entitled AstropM and Stella, which was first published in 1591, and to which Spenser alludes : *' Ne lesse praisworthie Stella do I read, " Though nought my praises of her needed arre, " Whom verse of noblest shepheard lately dead *' Hath prais'd and rais'd above each other starre.* The early love of Sir Philip to this Lady is converted into a beautiful fiction, as we shall pre- sently see, in Spenser's elegy on Sir Philip's death.— After the commendation of Stella, the three daughters of Sir John Spenser, of whom an account has been already given, are intro- duced to the reader's admiration. And the list of beauties concludes with the undiscovered names of FlaiAa and Candida. The pastoral Elegy of Astroplel, devoted entirely to the memory of Sir Philip Sidney, and written perhaps on the immediate occasion in 1586, was, with Colin Clouts come home again, first published also in 1595. It is "dedicated to the most beautifuU and vertuous Ladie, the Countess of Essex." This Lady had been the wife of Sidney, and was now married to the » See als-> what has been already stated in regard to Spenser's commendation of Daniel p xxxvii w See references to the poetical compositions of queen Elizabeth, in the note on Colin Ctoul's come home aoain, ver lJi8 y ' ^ See the Biograph. Brit. Art. Spdnei;, (Philip,) and Brydges's edit, of Phillips's Theatrum Poetarum AnffUcanorum. p. 130. SOME ACCOUNT OF THE LIFE OF SPENSER. xli Earl of Essex. She was the daughter of the memorable Sir Francis Walsingham. Sir Philij left by her an only daughter. His affectionate attention to this Lady and to l;er family, is abundantly shewn iu his Will, preserved by Collins in his Memoirs of the Lives and Actions of the Sidneys. It had been first proposed for Sir Pliilip to marry a '' daughter of Secretary Cecil, on the recommendation of his uncle, the Earl of Leicester ; and his own choice, in earlier days, is said to have been unsuccessfully fixed on Lady Rich. Of this latter circum- stance Spenser makes an elegant use. It is necessary first to refute an error of a ludicrous kind, which ihe author of the Life of Spenser prefixed to Mr. Church's edition of the Faerie Queene has committed, in sayiog that " ^ the grief of Stella, the Countess of Warwick his aunt, for her Astrophel, (names which Sir Philip himself had rendered immortal,) makes a large part of this tender poem." Stella is Sir Philip's first love. And Spenser could not have been a, stranger to this honourable attachment. Surely the poet would never have thus described the interview between a nephew and an aunt ! " They stopt his wound, (too late to stop it was !) *' And in their arines then softly did him reare ; " Then, as he will'd, unto his loved lass, " His dearest love, him dolefully did beere." No. The poet, with inimitable pathos, thus relates a feigned event, •' To prove that death their hearts cannot divide, *' Which living were in love bo firmly tide ; " He relates, that Stella, after many fruitless ofSces of tenderest love, barely witnessed tlie lasl pains of the wounded Astrophel, and followed him " like turtle chaste ;" and then he most poetically adds : " The Gods, which all things see, this same beheld ; " And, pittying this paire of lovers trew, " Transformed them there lying on the field " Into one flowre that is both red and blew : " It first growes red, and then to blew doth fade, " Like Astrophel, which thereinto was made. " And in the midst thereof a star appeares, ' As fairly formd as any star in skyes ; " Resembling Stella in her freshest yeares, *' Forth darting beames of beautie from her eyes : " And all the day it standeth full of deow, " Which is the teares that from her eyes did flow." To this Elegy by Spenser are added the lamentations of Sir Philip's sister, the Countess of Pembroke, under the name of Clannda ; and also a collection of " flowers, that decked the herse " of Sidney, by Lodowick Bryskett and others. Adhering to the chronological order in which Spenser's poems were published, I am now to mention the Amoretti ,;r Sonnets. These are dated by Mr. Ball in 1592, who also represents the poet as married in 1593. But he is mistaken, I think, in both respects. The Sonnets were certainly not published before the year ' 1595, but were written most probably in the years 1592 and 1593 ; and appear to have been sent from Ireland, for publication, to Ponsonby his former bookseller. The dedication of them " to the right worshipfuU Robart Needham, Knight, ascertains this point. « Sir, — To gratulate your safb return from Ireland, I had nothing so ready, nor thought any thing eo meet, aa these sweete-conceited Sonnets, the deede of that wel deserving gentleman, maister Edmonde Spwdser ; whose name sufiiciently warranting the worthinesse of the work, I do more confidently presumt to publish in his absence.— This gentle JIuse for her former perfection long wished for in Englande, now at the length crossing the seas in your happy r CoUins's Mem. of the Lives and Actions of the Sidneys, p. 113. * Church's Spenser, vol. i. p. xxx. 'See Chalmers's Supplemental Apology for the Believers in the ShaJp Nicholson, in his Irish Ilisiorical Library, has made a great mistake in relating that Spenser's treatise extends tlie account of Ireland " to the year 1600," and that it is " dedicated to King James the first." Dubl. edit. 8vo. 1724. p. 4. n In the Library of Gonville and Caius College, Cambridge ; now numbered, 188. » Vol. i. p. 81. edit, 1754. P Among the Lord Chancellor Egerton's manuscripts, which now belong to the Marquis of Stafford, there is a curinns treatise of this kind, at the end of which is a petition by the author in favour of the Earl of Tyrone. It is dated in l.'i94. and the authors name is Tho. Lee. It is entitled " A Briefe Declaration of the Gouerment of Irelande, opening many Corruptions in y« same ; discouering ye discontentments of the Irishry, and the causes mouing theis expected ti-onbles : And shewing meanes how to establish quietnes in that kingdome honorably, to your Ma"'^ profit without any encrease of charge." q Vol. iii. p. 327. Keating, Walsh, and O'Flaherty, object principally to the mistakes of Spenser in regard to bi« deducing the original of several absolutely Irish families from England and Wales. See Walsh's Preface to his Protpecl Hfthe State 0/ Treland, :6e2. And OTIaherty's Oot^is, &c. 1685. P. iii. c. 77. SOME ACCOUNT OF THE LIFE OF SPENSER. xl™ history and antiquities of the country, he is often miserably mistaken, and seems to have indulged rather the fancy and licence of a poet than the judgement and fidelity requisite for an liistorian ; besides liis want of moderation. If this character, Dr. Birch observes, be a true one, we have the less reason to regret that Spenser did not finish another treatise, which he promised at the conclusion of his View, expressly upon the antiquities of Ireland. At the dis- tance of more than half a century, he, who subscribes not to the preceding remark, will find many supporters of his dissent. " ' Civilization," says a modern writer, (who with great learning and success has discussed the Antiquities vf Ireland,) " having almost obliterated every vestige of our ancient manners, the remembrance of them is only to be found in Spenser; so that he may be considered, at this day, as an Irish antiquary." I join sincerely in the wish of Sir James "Ware, that this treatise had, in some passages, been tempered with more moderation ; but, as Sir James remarks, " the troubles and miseries of the time when he wrote it, doe partly excuse him." In some manuscripts of the Treatise which I have seen, the severity indeed of Spenser as well in respect to certain families, as to the nation in general, is considerably ampli- fied. But I have not thought it necessary to specify every particular of dormant, and perhaps not justifiable, harshness. It is evident that Sir James Ware also had seen more than one manuscript of the treatise ; as he selects a various reading from the best. And, in the library of Trinity College at Dublin, there is a manuscript of it, which, in the construction of some of the sentences, and in other instances, differs, as I have been ' informed, from the printed copy ; and abounds with corrections and interlineations. This treatise, the result of nice observation and minute inquiry, wears the appearance of having been composed in England in 1596. For it opens with Eudoxus's address to Irenseus, under the latter of which names Spenser intends himself, in the following manner : " But if that countrey of Ireland, whence you lately came, be of so goodly and commodious a soyl as you report, I wonder that no course is taken for the turning thereof to good purposes, and reducing that nation to better government and civility." And it is probable that Spenser expected considerable promotion, in consequence of the zeal and ability which he had thus displayed as a politician ; for he tells us, in his Prothalamion, published in 1596, of his " sullen care " Through discontent of his long fruHlesse slay '* Tn Princes Court, and expectation vain " Of idle hopes, &c." He had arrived in England, we may suppose, at the beginning of the year ; for the ■ entry of the second edition of the Faerie Queene in the Stationers' Registers will countenance this opinion ; and the Prothalamion, as is evident at the commencement of it, was written in the summer of that year. In 1597 he is "said to have returned to Ireland. And he returned, probably, with the expectation of passing his days in comfort with his family at Kilcolman. In the following year he was destined to an honourable situation. For Jlr. Malone has discovered a Letter from queen Elizabeth to the Irish government, dated the last day of September I5U8, recommending Ppenser to be Sheriff of Cork. But, in the next month, the rebellion of the treacherous Tyrone burst forth with irresistible fury ; and occasioned the immediate flight- of Spenser and his family from Kilcolman. In the confusion attending this calamity, one of Iiis children appears to have been left behind. The rebels, after having carried off the goods •burnt the house, and this infant in it. Spenser arrived in England with a heart broken in consequence of these misfortunes, and died in the January following ''. ' The observation of theRev. Edward Ledwich to Joseph Cooper Walker, Esq ; communicated to me by the Vitter. » By Mr. Cooper Walker ; who also transmitted to me a considerable specimen of this manuscript, which was obligingly transcribed by Dr. Barrett, the learned librarian of the College. ' Viz. on the 20. Jan. 159S-6. « Biofrraph. Brit. " See the conversation between Ben Jonson and Dnimmond of Hawthomden, presently citea. y "In opposition to the monumental inscription in Westminster Abbey," says Mr. Chalmers, "I concur with Sir James Ware, and Mr. Malone, in saying, that Spenser died in 1590, though towards the end rather than the beginning of that year : For the preface of Belvidere, or, Gariirn of the Muses, which was printed in 16(1(1, speaks of Spenser as an extant poet." Suppl. Apolog. p. 34, 35. But this is not correct. The date of 1593 on tlie monument is righL And xlviii SOME ACCOUNT OF THE LIFE OF S PENSER. The date of Spenser's death, together with some circumstances attending it, has often been mis-stated. The precise day of his death is now asserted, for the first time, on the following authority communicated by the learned and reverend John Brand, Secretary of the Society of Antiquaries ; which exists in the title-page of the second edition of the Faerie Queetie, now in his possession, and which appears to have belonged originally to Henry Capell ; after whose autograph, the date of 1598 is added. After the name of Ed. Spenser in the title-page, the following invaluable anecdote is preserved : " Qui obiit apud diversorium in platea Regia, apud Westmouasterium iuxta London, 16°. die Jauuarij 1598°. Juxtaq ; Geffereum Chaucer, in eadem Ecclesia supradict. (Honoratissimi Comitis Essexise impensis) sepelit[ur.]" Henry Capell has added apud dixersorium in the paler ink with which his own name is written. It appears then that the testimony of Camden, in regard to the place of Spenser's death, is correct ; which was in King-street, Westminster, as he relates ; and not, as ^ others in opposition to bis authority have reported, in King-street, Dublin. It appears also that he died at on im or lodging-house, " apud diversorium," in which he and his family had probably been fixed from the time of their arrival in England. It is remarkable that Mr. Capell should have omitted to notice a single circumstance of the extreme poverty in which Spenser is said to have died, if the bitterest circumstances of that kind had really attended his death. The burial having been ordered at the charge of the Earl of Essex, may surely be considered as a mark of that nobleman's respect for the poet, without proving that the poet was starved. Of the man who had thus perished a remarkable funeral' might seem almost mockery; and yet the pall was held up by some of the poets of the time. But Camden has said, that Spenser returned to England, poor ; " in Angliam inops reversiis." Deprived, by a general calamity, of his property in the province of Munster ; he was, if we con- trast his situation with better days, undoubtedly poor. Yet was he not without the certainty of at least a decent subsistence ; and, I am persuaded, was not without friends. His annual pension of fifty pounds, granted him by the queen, was beyond the reach of the barbarous kerns of Munster ; a sum by no means inconsiderable in those days. And we may at least believe, that a plundered servant of the Crown would not pass unnoticed by the government, either in regard to a permanent compensation, or to immediate relief if requisite. But the numerous narrators of Spenser's death, both "in prose and rhyme," have determined to give an un- bounded meaning to Camden's inops; and have accordingly represented the poet as dying in extreme indigence and want of bread. Nor are the melancholy accounts of these narratoi-s unattended with a prefatory remark on his life, which confutes itself. Camden says generally that, by a fate peculiar to poets, Spenser was always poor. But he notices no other situation tliat Spenser held than tlie secretaryship under Lord Grey. Thus the author of his Life in the Bio- graphia Britannica says, "that this admirable poet and worthy gentleman had struggled with poverty all his life-time." And thus, in the notes to that life, are cited the pretended cor- roborations of the fa t, which Dr. Bii-ch and the author of the Life prefixed to Mr. Church's edition of the Faerie Queene have triumphantly produced from an old play, entitled The Return from Parnassus, &c. acted at St. John's College, Cambridge, in 1606 ; and from Fletcher's Purple Island, a poem printed in 1633 : in the former of which, the " soile," that isj England, is described as •' Denying maintenance for his deare relief," and as "Scarce deigning to shut up his dying eye:" And in the latter, he is exhibited to the pity of the reader, as one, whom though all the Graces and Sluses nurst and all the great and learned admired. Mr. :Malone has since admitted that Spenser died in London, between the Isl o/ January and the Solli of March, i;S8 9 See his edit, of Uryden's Prose-Worlcs, Tol. 3. p. 93. • Gibber's Live- of the Poets. Warton's Observ. on Spenser, vol. IL p. 251. Brydges's edition of PhiUips's Theatrum Poet .AnRlic. p. I56,&o. » " Pnetis funus ducentibus," as Camden relates. See also the translation of his Hisf. o/Q. Eliz. p. 36.5. " His heares [was] attended by poets, and mom-nfuU elegies and poems with the pens that wrote them thrown into his tomb." SOME ACCOUNT OF THE LIFE OF SPENSER. xltx •' Yet all his hopes were ei-ost, all suits denied ; " Discourag'd, scorn'd, his writings vilified ; " Pdoi ly \poore man) he liv'd ; poorly (poore man) he died." To these may be added the lamentation of Jos. Hall, another poet, in his address to Dr. "Will. Bedell on his pastoral "in Spenser's style," entitled "A Protestant Memorial, &c." first published in 1713. " Thine be his ISpenser's'} Verse ; not his Reward be thine I " Ah ! me, that, after unbeseeming care *' And seeret want which bred his last misfare, *' His relicks dear obscurely tombed lien *' XJnder unwritten stones, that who goes by ** Cannot once read, Lo 1 here doth Collin lie .'" But all these remarks are far exceeded by Mr. Pennant, who has conjectured, that what had 'been puhlished in 1590 might have been composed in consequence of his distresses at a subsequent period ! Speaking of the portrait of Spenser at Dupplin Castle, he calls the poet " ■> the sweet, the melancholy, romantick bard of a romantick queen ; the moral, romantick client of the moral, romantick patron. Sir Philip Sidney ; fated to pass his days in dependence, or in struggling against adverse fortune, in a country insensible to his merit ; either at Court ' to lose good days, &c.' or in Ireland to be tantalized with the appearance of good fortune; to be seated amidst scenery indulgent to his fanciful muse ; yet, at length, to be expelled by the barbarous Tyrone ; to have his house burnt, and his innocent infant perish in the flam^ ; to return home ; to die in deep poverty : lamenting ' ' that gentler wits should breed * Where thick-skin ehuffes laugh at a echoller's need.' May it not be imagined, that, in the anguish of his soul, he composed his Cave of Despair, as fine a descriptive poem as any in our language, F. Q. i. ix. 33, &c." The authority of Mr. "Warton has also countenanced the belief of Spenser's dying in abject poverty. But from his statement I am compelled, in more than the present instance, to dissent. " Spenser himself," says Mr. "Warton, " ■= died in Ireland, in the most wretched condition, amid the desolations of the rebellion in Munster ; as appears from the following curious anecdote in Drummond, who has left us the heads of a conversation between himself and Ben Jonson. "• B. Jonson told me that Spenser's goods were robbed by the Irish in Desmond's rebellion ; his house, and a little child of his burnt, and he and his wife nearly escaped ; that he afterwards died in King-street, [Dublin,^ by absolute want of bread ; and that he refused twenty pieces sent him by the Earl of Essex, and gave this answer to the person who brought them, That he was sure he had no time to spend them.' Camden informs us, that Spenser was in Ireland when the rebellion broke out under Tyrone in 15S8 ; but that, being plundered of his fortune, he was obliged to return to England, where he died in the same or the next year. Camden adds, that he was buried in the abbey of "Westminster, with due solemnities, at the expence of the Earl of Essex. If Drummovd's account be true, it is most probable, that the Earl, whose benefaction came too late to be of any use, ordered his body to be conveyed into England, where it was interred as Camden relates. It must be owned that Jonson's account, in Drummond, is very nircumstantial ; and that it is probable, Jonson was curious enough to collect authentick information on so interesting a subject. At least his profession and connections better qualified him to come at the truth. Perhaps he was one of the poets who held up Si)ensei's pall." The preceding account, given by Drummond, requires further examination. In the first place, Mr. "Warton's insertion of Dublin into the narrative is unjustifiable ; and erroneously leads tlie reader to bestow a greater weight on mere conversation, than on historical testimony. I cannot but question also the authority of Jonson, in regard to the pretended answer of Spenser to tlie messenger who brought him money from Lord Essex ; that he was sure he had no time to spend it. Jonson relates, that the poet and his wife escaped the violence of the rebels ; although he notices » Pennant's Tour in Scotland, Part 2d. p. 81 . « Observations on the Facrio Queene, vol. 2. p. a"!!. d Works, fol. p. 224. "Heads of a conversation between the famous poet Ben Jonson, and William Drummond of Hawtbornden, lanuary, 1619." We should read Tyrone's instead of i?amonci'* rebellion. 1 SOME ACCOUNT OF THE LIFE OF SPENSER. no other child than that which was burnt. But two children, at least, were preserved ; for a wife and cliUdren, as we shall presently discover, survived the poet. What then ! would the tender-minded Spenser, with a wife and children ' participating his temporary distress, think only of himself on the melancholy occasion, and decline the offer of assistance so seasonable at least to tJtem ? I must require the corroboration of such a fact from the mouth of more witnesses than that of Jonson ; especially when I consider what Drummond has recorded of his friend Ben, that he was guilty of " 'interpreting the best sayings, and deeds, often to the worst." If the Earl of Essex sent Spenser a donation, which is very probable, I am persuaded that it was not declined with the ungrateful and unnatural answer alleged by Jonson. To fugitives from their own abode, not possessed of an immediate supply for their wants, and resident at an inn the generosity of Essex was well-timed ; and it corresponds with the friendship which he had always shewn to Spenser. It would be an aid till the accustomed time of the payment of the royal pension to Spenser, and till his case had undergone an inquiry necessary to entitle him to publick remuneration. But, leaving for a moment the particular point of Essex's generosity, may we not suppose that the poet experienced, in his present accidental want, the kindness " of the auncient house " of Spencer ? In his earlier days he had been often obliged by persons of that noble family ; and he. appears not, by any subsequent circumstance, to have forfeited their notice. It is an extraordinary assertion of a late biographer of Spenser, where, speaking of the Spencers of Althorp, he says, "^It does not appear that the poet ever claimed kindred with that house, or was acknowledged by it." The claim of kindred with that house, as we have seen, was the '' favourite theme of Spenser ; and the admission of that claim was also ' repeatedly avowed by him. In his utmost need, then, can we believe him to have been so deserted as to " want a morsel of bread ? Was his poverty, the effect of national misfortune, a crime ? Would nonsTrf those, who had " ' acknowledged the private bands of his affinitie and honoured him with particular bounties," listen to the representation of the misery, in which a kinsman of whom the)' could not be ashamed, (a man of exemplary taste and learning and a man of blameless character,) was now involved ? — When to this expectation of alleviated calamity we add the means of Spenser "already mentioned, and the probability of Essex's generosity being not slighted ; common sense and humanity seem to revolt at the supposition of Spenser's dying in want of bread. Of Essex's friendly interference Mr. Warton has continued a mis-statement, in his " History of English Poetry ; subjoined to a vei-y elegant discrimination between the accomplishments and the errors of that nobleman. "A few of his Sonnets are in the Ashmolean Museum, which have no marks of poetick genius. He is a vigorous and elegant writer of prose. But if Essex was no poet, few noblemen of his age were more courted by poets. From Spenser to the lowest rhymer, he was the subject of numerous sonnets or popular ballads. I will not except Sidney. I could produce evidence to prove, that he scarce ever went out of England, or even left London, on the most frivolous enterprise, without a pastoral in his praise, or a panegyrick in metre, which were sold and sung in the streets. Having interested himself in the fashionable poetry of the times, he was placed high in the ideal Arcadia now just established ; and, among other instances which might be brought, on his return from Portugal in 1589 he was compli- mented with a poem, called, 'An Egloge gratulatorie entituled to the right honorable and renowned shepherd of Albions Arcadie, Robert earl of Essex ; and for his returne lately into > Mr. Cli aimers is entirely of this opinion. " The Irish of Mnnster, rising universally in Ootoberl59S, laid waste the country and expelled the English. Neither Kilcolman nor Spenser were spared. He was thus constrained to retmn with his tvi/e^ and family, to England ; but in ruined circumstances." Supplemental Apnloa p 34 I See Drummond's character of Jonson in Brydges's edition of Phillip's Theatrum Poelanm Annlicanorum, p, 248, which, however disadv,antageously, is not, in the opinion of the learned editor, very unjustly drawn. B Dr. Aikin, in his Life of Spenser, prefixed to the edition of Spenser's Poetical Works in 1802 h See before, pages xxxi, xxxii, xxxiii, S-c. i See the same pages i See before, p. xlviii, xlix. The reader might be also led intothis belief of Spenser's being starved by Oldham's SatlW against Poetry ; by Granger's Biograpliical History; by Dunster's edition of Philips's Cider, p. 88 io. &o. • See the Dedications to MuiopotmoSt and the Teares of the Muses, ' •n See before, p. xlviii. " Vol. 3. pp. 421, 422. SOME ACCOUNT OF THE LIFE Oi' SPENSER. England.' This is a light in which Lord Essex is seldom viewed. I know not if the queen's fatal partiality, or his own inherent attractions, his love of litei-ature, his heroism, integrity, and generosity, qualities which abundantly overbalance his presumption, his vanity, and impetuosity, had the greater share in dictating these praises. If adulation were any where justifiable, it must be when paid to the man who endeavoured to sate Spenser from starmng in the streets of DiMin, and who buried him in "Westminster abbey with becoming solemnity." By the death of the poet I can conceive Lord Essex to have been much affected. From his ingenuous and liberal mind the praises of such a man as Spenser would not easily be effaced. He was now on the eve of his departure to Ireland in the character of Lord Lieutenant; the appointment of which exalted station Spenser is believed to have recommended, in his View of the State of Ireland, to be bestowed on him, as " upon whom the eye of all England is fixed, and our last hopes now rest." Essex therefore was deprived of Spenser's political assistance ; a circumstance (as I conceive) of great disappointment, if not of distress, to a vice-roy nominated at a period so critical. Nor can I read the following Letter, which Essex had occasion to write in the Autumn after his arrival iu Ireland, without thinking that, in the general allusion to the dearest friends whom he has outlived, Spenser also is intended. It is an ° original Letter to the Lord Keeper Egerton, on the loss of his eldest son Sir Thomas Egerton, who had accompanied Essex into Ireland, and who died there on the 23d of August, 1599, at the age of 25. " Whatt can you receave from a cursed country butt vnfortnnate newes % wliatt can be my stile (whom heaven and earth are agreed to make a martyr) butt a stile of mourning ? nott for myself thatt I smart, for I wold I had in my hart the sorow of all my frends, but I mourne t\i?itt my destiny is to oterlivemy deerest frendes. Of y'. losse yt is neither good for me to write nor you to reade. But I protest I felt myself sensibly dismembred when I lost my frend. Shew y'. strength in lyfe. Lett me, yf yt be Gods will, shew yt iu taking leave of the world and hasting after my frends. Butt I wiU live and dy More y'. Ips then any mans living, ESSEX. " Arbrackan this last of August," [1599.] Little did the generous but unfortunate Essex then imagine, that the learned statesman, to whom this letter of condolence was addressed, would be directed very soon afterwards to issue an order for his execution. The original ^ warrant, to which the name of Elizabeth is prefixed^ is now in the possession of the Marquis of Stafford ; and the queen has written her name, not with that firmness observable in numerous documents existing in the same and other collections, but with apparent tremor and hesitation. Perhaps no apology will be expected for the long digression I have made on the history of Spenser's friend, and indeed the general friend of literature. What became of the wife and children of Spenser immediately after his death, does not appear. The following original Letter proves, what I have asserted throughout this account of the Life of the poet, that he had ' children besides the infant which is said to have perished in the flames • which has induced me to fix the date of his marriage earlier than in 1590. Tlie 'Letter is from the Lords of the Privy Council in England to Sir George Carew, Lord President of Munster, " in the behalf of Mrs. Spenser.'' o In the collection of the Marquis of StafTurd. p ThiB Warrant is in the most peifect preservation. It is one of the nnmernua important dncnments, subservient to the histciry of this country, which were carefully preserved by Lord ChaneeUor Egerton, and were bequeathed by the late IJuke of Bridgewater to the present Marquis of Stafford. q « We think," says the author of the Life of Spenser prefixed to Mr. Church's edition of the Faerie Queene, " that Spenser could hardly leave more than meson; considering that, as before stated, one child was burnt." But this opinion is not correct. . , . ., i- i r In the Carew manuscripts at Lambeth Library, the original of this Letter and the copy exist. It is worthy of <.bserva- tion that Sir George Carew, while he was Lord President of Munster, preserved the originals, and dii ected ccpu-s t" be miid'o of all the letters stnt to him " from the lordes of her Mn"': mosue ) lonorablo i^ry vie Councell.' See iMemorand. m MS. No. 620. lu Some ACCOlJNT OF THE LIFE O F SPENSER. "After o'. Right hartie Comendacons to y' lordship. By the inclosed Petition it may appeare vnto you the humble sute that is made vnto vs in the behalf of the wyff and children ■>f Edmond Spenser late Gierke of the Councell of that Provynce : In regard he was a Servitor of that Realme, we have ben moved to recomend the consideracon of the Sute made vnto vs, vnto y' lordship and withall to praye you, that you will vpon due informaeon of the state of the Cause, and the wronges pretended to be done in preiudice of the wyff and children of Spenser, afforde them that favour and assistance w"' the iustice and equitie of the Cause shall deserve for recovery and holdinge those thinges w''' by right ought to appteyne to them. And so we byd you right hartely fare well : ffrom the Court at Whytehall, the xxix" of March 1601. ["Receved in July ICOl."] " Yo' lordship's very lovinge freudes « Jo Cant. Tho. Egerton, C.S. " T. Buckhurst. Notingham. « W. Knollys. Ro. Ceoyll. " I. Fortescue. I. Herbert." To this Letter the inclosed Petition is unfortunately not an accompaniment. It was probably deposited among the Munster records by the Lord President. I am inclined to think that the Petition was presented before the widow and children departed from England. In regard, however, to the family, I am enabled to state that two sons certainly survived the poet ; Silmmus and Peregrine ; of whom the former was probably a native of the woody Kilcolman ; and the latter perhaps was born in England soon after the arrival of Spenser and his wife from Ireland, or might be a posthumous child, and received his name from the strange and unexpected place of his birth. In ' two manuscripts preserved in the library of Trinity College at Dublin, it appears that Silvanus, the son of Edmund Spenser, married Ellen Nangle, eldest daughter of David Nangle of Moneanymy in the county of Cork and of Ellen Roche who was daughter to William Roche of Ballyhowly in the county of Cork ; and by that marriage he bad two sons, Edmund and William Spenser. It further appears in Smith's History of the County and City of Cork, as the learned librarian Dr. Barrett remarks, that this family, called in the manuscripts Nangle of Moneanymy, is otherwise called Nagle ; and tlie historian mentions " Ballygriffin, a pretty seat of Mr. David Nag'e, below which is the ruined church of Monanimy, with a large chancel, and in it is a modern tomb of the Nagles." And Monanimy appears, in Smith's map of the county, a little way to the south of Kilcolman, the residence of Spenser. From the 'manuscript depositions relative to the rebellion of 1641, still remaining in the library just mentioned, persons of the name of Nagle of Monanimy, and also of the name of Roche, (the families to which Spenser's sou was by marriage connected,) appear to have taken a part in those disturbances ; and probably might, some of them at least, have forfeited their property. The biographers of Spenser have informed us that his "grandson Hugolin Spenser, was, after the restoration of King Charles the second, restored by the Court of Claims to so much of the lands as could be found to have been his ancestor's. This circum- stance seems to prove that the estate had again been seized by rebels, as it had been in the time of the poet; for Peregrine Spenser, the father of Plugolin, is described, in the ^last- mentioned manuscript, by an attestation dated May 4. 1042, as "a Protestant resident about the barony of Fermoy, and so impoverished by the troubles as to be unable to pay his debts ;" and a part of the estate had been assigned to him by his elder brother Silvanus, as the Case of William Spenser, his nephew, will presently demonstrate. It no where appears that Silvanus, notwithstanding his connection witli the popish families of Roche and Nan-le, was involved in the rebellion of 1641. Hugolin, however, followed the example of Sir Ricliard Nagle, the » MS.F. 4. 18. Page 118. Entitled, Irish Pedigrees. MS. F. 3. 27. Page 42. • MS. F. 2. 15. Pages 1611, 1663, 1673, 1667. 1 The biographers call him, inaccurately, the great-grandson of Spenser. See Birch, Church's edit Faer. Qu., Biograph. Brit. &c. X Namely, MS. P. 2. IS page 1667. And for all these notices in the Dublin manuscripts I am highly obliged, through the kind application of Joseph Cooper WalVer, Es/j., to the Rev. Dr. Barrett. SOME ACCOUNT OF THE LIFE OF SPENSER. liu attorney-general of James the second and the great persecutor of tlie Irish Protestants, in resisting tlic designs of the Prince of Orange ; and was accordingly, after the revolution! outlawed for treason and rebellion. On this event his cousin Wil'iam Spenser, the son of Silvanus, became a suitor for the forfeited i^roperty. The affair brouclit him to England ; and his name is 'said to have procured liim a favourable reception. By the poet Congreve he was introduced to Mr. Slontague, afterwards Eai'l of Halifax, tlien at the head of the Treasury, through whose interest he obtained his suit. Dr. Birch has described him as a man somewhat advanced in years, and as unable to give any account of the works of liis ancestor which are wanting. The ^Case of "William Spenser, printed on a single sheet, and since deposited by tlie republisher of it in the British Museum, has been accepted by the publick as a proof of tliat active perseverance, and liberal curiosity, by which Mr. George Cljalmers is animated ; and is too interesting to be omitted here. " The Case of William Spencer, of Kilcolman, in the county of Cojk, in the kingdom of Ireland, Esq. grandson and heir to Edmond Spenser the poet : — " That Sylvanus S.iencer, Esq. father of William, in his life-time, in order to prefer his second brother Peregrine in marriage, did give and assign to him part of his estate in the said county of Cork. "Peregrine dies, and that part of the estate that was settled on him by Silvanus, descended and came to Hugoline, son of (he said Peregrine. " Hugoline, being seized and possessed of the said estate, was outlawed for treason and rebel- lion after the late revolution. " William Spencer finding Hugoline's estate vested in the king, and being the next protestant •leir, as also heir at law to him, that part of the estate being formerly vested in Sylvanus, (to whom William was eldest son and heir) did apjily himself to his Majesty for a grant thereof) and by his petition did set forth his claim to the said estate, and also his services, sufferings, and losses, in the late rebellion in Ireland, in behalf of the government, which are very well known. " Upon which petition his Majesty was graciously pleased to refer the same to the Lords Commissioners of the Treasury in England, and they were pleased to refer it further to the Earls of Montrath, Drogheda, and Galloway, then Lords Justices of Ireland, to examine the matter, and make their report. " The Lords Justices reported it back to the Lords of the Treasury of England : wherein they recommend the said William to his Majesty for his great services, sufferings, and losses, in the late troubles, and that he was next protestant heir to Hugoline, and to deserve his Slajesty's grace and favour. " His Majesty was thereupon graciously pleased to grant the said Hugoline's estate to the said William, by his letters patent bearing date at Dublin the fourteenth day of June, in the ninth year of his reign. " That the said estate was then of the yearly value of sixty-seven pounds, seventeen shillings and six-pence. " That there is a mortgage upon the said estate for five hundred pounds, which is yet unpaid. " That it cost the said William above six hundred pounds, the best part of his fortune, in improving the said estate, and procuring the said grant, and hath received little or no profi' thereof. "For by a late act of parliament, all grants were made void in Ireland, and the forfeited estates were vested in trustees, to be sold for the use of the public ; and whilst that act was in agitation, the said William was so disabled by sickness, that he could not apply Idmself to this honourable House for a saving clause, whereby the trustees have dispossessed tlie said William of the said estate, witliout any manner of consideration for his improvements and other charges about the same, to his utter ruin and i mpoverishment. rDr. Birch, Churcli's edit. Faer. (l.,iinrl Biograpb. Brit. ,.„».„ » See the Suppk-mental Apology for the Believers in the SliakspearePapera, &c. 1799, pp. 3.5, 36, &o. SOME ACCOUNT OF THE LIFE OF SPENSER. « Tliat. (liis is conceived to be tlie only case of this nature in the whole kingdom of Ireland, he being the next protestant heir, and whose grandfather, Edmond Spencer, by his book, entituled, A View of Ireland, modled the settlement of that kingdom, and these lands were given him by Queen Elizabeth, of blessed memory, for his services to the crown. " That your petitioner having applied himself to this honourable House last sessions of parliament for relief herein : " The petitioner was referred to the trustees then in England, who reported the same to this honourable House ; and, upon further consideration of that report, the same was refer'd to the trustees in Ireland, who now have made their report to this effect : — " That the petitioner was very serviceable to the publick, by being a guide to his Majesty's General the Earl of Athlone, during the late wars in that kingdom. "That he had 300 head of black cattle, and 1500 sheep taken from him, and had several houses burnt : That his family was stript, his house plundered, and his only son had above twenty wounds given him by the Irish army. " That in consideration of his said services and sufferings, and of his being next protestant heir to Hugoline Spenser attainted, his Majesty was pleased to grant the forfeited estate of the said Hugoline to the petitioner in 1G97, now set at sixty pounds per ann. "That there is a claim heard and allowed as an incumbrance of 3001. absolute, on the said estate, and 200 1. more in case Hugoline, who is very old and unmarried, dies without issue male. " That the petitioner has expended near the sum mentioned in his petition, in making jorneys into England to procure his grant, in passing his patent in Ireland, and in building a house and planting an orchard on the premises, so that his grant has hitherto been a charge to him, and not an advantage ; all which they submit to this honourable House. " And the petitioner humbly hopes this honourable House will be pleased to take his case into consideration, and re-establish him in his said estate, or otherwise relieve him as to your great wisdom shall seem meet." Dr. Birch informs the reader in 1751, that some °of the descendants of Spenser were then remaining in the county of Cork. An Edmund Spenser of Mallow is 'yet remembered in Dublin ; and the daughter of this gentleman, the last lineal descendant of the poet, is now married, as I am ' informed, to Mr. Burne, who fills, or lately filled, some office in the English- Custom-house ; in whose possession an original picture of Spenser '' has been said to exist ; but an inquiry after it has not been attended with success. Whether it may be confounded with the painting, reported to ° be at Castle-Saffrou in the neighbourhood of Kilcolman, the seat of John Love, Esq., I am unable to say. To the memory of Spenser a handsome monument, with an inscription, was erected in Westminster Abbey by Anne, Countess of Dorset. This mark of respect had been usually ascribed to the Earl of Essex, till ' Fenton, in his notes on Waller, related the discovery which he had made in the manuscript diary of Stone, master-mason to King Charles the first ; that the monument was set up above thirty years after the poet's death, and that the Countess of Dorset paid forty pounds for it. In the inscription, however, the dates both of his birth and his death, owing to the blunder of the carver or the writer of the brief memorial, were false. For he was stated to have been born in 1510, and to have died in 1596. This interval presents a lengthened span, of which little more than half was allotted' to Spenser. " Obiit immatura morte," says Camden in his ^ little treatise describing the monuments of Westminster in IfiOO, " anno salutis 15U8 ; '' which expression, his dijing an untimely death, is used not without propriety * Life of Spenser, prefixed to the edition of the Faerie Q,ueene in 17.51 . b From the infoi-mation of Joseph Cooper "Walker, Eisq. c By the^entleman mentioned in the preceding note. li As Mr. Walker had been informed. " Smith's Hist, of Cork, and Dr. Birch't, Life of Spenser. ' See the Life of Spenser prefixed to Church's edition of the Faerie Queene, and the Biographia Britnnnica. « Viz. " Regcs, Rcgina.-, Nobile^ et alii in Eccl. CoU. B. Petri Weutmon. sepulti. io." 4to. Impr. E. BoUifant, 1600. SOME ACCOUNT OF THE LIFE OF SPENSER. when we consider that Spenser died at the age of forty-five. The iuscri^)tion as it now stands on the monument in the Abbey, is as follows. Heare lyes (expecting the second comminge of ovk Saviovr Christ Jesvs) the BODY OF EdMOND SpENCER THE PkINCE OF PoETS IN HIS TYME WHOSE DIVINE SPIRHIT NEEDS NOE OTHIR WITNESSE THEN THE WoRKS WHICH HE LEFT BEHINDE HIM He WAS BORNE IN London in the yeare 1553 and died in the yeare 1598. It should be observed that Camden's treatise just mentioned, does not pretend to give the monumental inscription of the poet ; but introduces a suitable eulogium on a man so cele- brated, in order to guide the curious, as it has been ingeniously '' conjectured, to that part of the Abbey in which his remains were deposited ; for at that time no monument was erected to him. The whole eulogium in prose is this. "Edmundus Spenser Londinensis, Anglicorum Poetarum nostri seculi facile princeps, quod eius poemata fauentibus Musis & victuro genio couscripta comprobant. Obiit immatura morte anno salutis 1598, & prope Galfredum Chaucerum conditur ; qui fselicissime poesin Anglicis Uteris primus illustravit." Then follow two copies of verses, which I shall have occasion presently to cite. The death of Spenser appears to have been deeply lamented ' by poets who lired near the time, and probably were acquainted with him ; by none, with greater tenderness, than William Browne, the most accomplished disciple in the school of Spenser. Describing him snatched from his admiring audience, in the midst of his sweetest minstrelsy, by the hand of death, he adds : " A dampe of wonder and amazement strooko " Thetis' attendants ; many a heavy looke ** PoUow'd sweet Spencer, till the thickning ayre *' Sight's further passage stopp'd. A passionate tears " Fell from each Nymph ; no Shepheard's cheek was dry ; " A doleful Dirge, and mournef nil Klegie, ** Flew to the shore.". Britannia's Pastorals^ edit. 1616. B. ii. p. 27. And in another part of the same work, alluding to the pastoral strains of Spenser, he has thus recorded his affection : *« Had Colin Clout yet liv'd, (but ho is gone U " The best on earth could tune a lovers mone ; " Whose sadder tones inforc'd the rocks to weepe, " And laid the greatest griefes in quiet sleepe : " AVho, when he sung (as I would do to mine) " His truest loves to his fair Rosaline, " Entic'd each shepheards eare to heare him play, &o. •' Heaven rest thy soule ! if so a swaiue may pray : " And, as thy workes live here, live there for aye !" The circumstance of his being buried near the grave of Chaucer, which is said to have been observed at his '' own desire, gave rise also to several encomiastick epitaphs ; the first of which, some writers have been hastily led to consider as ' the poet's monumental inscription. •* Hie prope Chaucerum, Spensere poeta, poetam •• Conderis, etversu quim tumulo propior. " Anglica, te vivo, vixit plausitque Poesis ; *' Nunc moritui-a timet, te moriente, mori." *• "- Hie prope Chaucerum situs est Spenserius, illi " ProximuB iugenio, proximus ut tumulo." Again : b In the note (T.) on Spenser's Life in the Uiographia Britannica. i See VV'eever's Mirror of Martyrs, published in 1601. See also a beautiful poem, re-printed in Ellis's Specimens of the early English poets, vol. 2d. p. 25j, 1st. edit. See likewise P. Fletcher's eurple. Island, published in 16a3, B. i. st 19 21) 21. t See the Lives of Spenser prefixed to the folio edition of his Works in 1679, and to Church's edition of the Faer. Qu. ""l Winstanley in his Lives of the English Poets; and Sir T. Pope Blount, in his Remarks on Poetry, &c.— This and the two following epitaphs were probably among the verses, which were thrown into the poet's grave.— The two last lines of this epitaph are as Fenton has remarked, a servile imitation of Cardinal Bembo's epitaph on Sannazariius and the immortal painter of Urbino.— In the Biographia Britannica, the two epitaphs from Camden's book arepiinted tOKCther as one, without distinction. . , « ,, 1 This and the preceding epitaph are given by Camden in his " Reges, Regina, Nobiles, et alii in liccL Coll. B. Petri Weetmon. sepulti, &c." Ivi SOME ACCOUNT OF THE LIFE OF SPE NSER. Again : " n Bpenserus cubat liio, Chaucero aitate priori " Inferior, tumulo proximus, ai-te prior." Nor was the character of Spenser treated without particular respect, while he lived. He was seldom mentioned without the epithet of "° great" or "learned." And indeed what poet of that period could pretend to his learning ? Tn the list of all our most eminent poets indeed, an admirable critick has assigned, in respect to their erudition, the first place to Milton, the P second to Spenser. And therefore ^ considering the exquisite taste, as well as the extensive learning of Spenser, the loss of his critical discourse entitled "■ The English Poet, is, as the same author has remarked, much to be regretted. Perhaps he would have there illustrated, by examples drawn from the writings of his countrymen who were distinguished in either school, the manner both of the Provencal and Italian poetry. But if his art of criticism has been lost, his own example as a poet has contributed to the production, in succeeding times, of the sublimest as well as the sweetest strains to which the lyre of English poesy has been tuned. To Dryden Milton acknowledged that Spenser was his original. In " Cuwley, in *Dryden, in the facetious Butler, in Prior, in Pope, in Thomson, in Shenstone, in Gray, and in Akenside obligations of importance to the " oaten reed " and the " trumpet stern " of Spenser may without difficulty be traced. It is indeed a just observation, that " more poets have sprung from Spenser than all our other English writers. n This occurs in the Book of Cenotaphia, subjoined to Fitzgeflfray's AffanicB, sive Epiprammota, published in 1601. » See the Shephearda Content at the end of the Affectionate Shephtardt ^c. 1594. 4to. tspeaking of love : * By thee great VvUin lost his libertie ; • By thee sweet Astrophel forwent his ioy." See also Drayton's Shepheards Garland, 1593. " For learned Collin laies his pipes to gage, " And is to fayrie gone a pilgrimage." And in the Lamenteition of Troy &c. 1594, he is invoked as "the only Homer living," and intreated to write the atorj " with his fame-quickninge quill." And Sir John Davies in his Orchestra, 1596, exclaims ; ** O that I eould old Gefferies Muse awake, *' Or borrow Colinsfayre Jieroike stile, " Or smooth my rimes with Delias servants file." In Camden's Remains published by Philipot, we are liltewise presented with the following proof of the high estimatioiii In which he was held while living. '* Upon Master Edmund Spencer the/amous Poet. <' At Delphos shrine one did a doubt propound, " Which by the Oracle must be released ; " Whether of Poets were the best renown'd, " Those that survive, or those that be deceased. " The god made answer by divine siigget-tion, " While Spencer is alive, it is no question." William Smith has dedicated his Chloris, or. The Complaint of the passionate despised Shepheard, in 1596, to fapenser, under the title of " the most excellent and learned Shepheard. Collin Cloute ;" and, in a concluding Sonnet, considers his friendly patronage as a shield against "raging Envie.*' Let me not omit the spirited address of bishop Hall, in his first Book of Satires, published in 1597- *' IJut let no rebel satyr dare traduce " Th' eternal legends of thy faerie muse, "Renowned Spencer ! whom no earthly wight " Dares once to emulate, much less despight." P Dr. Joseph Warton, Life of Pope, p. xxiv. q Dr. Joseph Warton's edit, of Pope, vol. L p. 1/5, r See before, p. xi.— " What authority Mr. Wood has for lo : Puttenham's being the author of the Art of English Poesy, I do not know. Mr. VVanley, in his Catalogue of the Barley Library, says he had been told, that Edm: Spencer teas the author of that book, which came out anonymous. ButSir Jiihn Harington, in his preface to Orlando Furioso p. 2. gives so hard a censure of that book, that Spenser eould not possibly be the author." Letter from Tho. Baker to the Hon James West, printed in the Europ. Magazine, April, 1788. B Cowley tells us. he was made a poet by the delight he took in the Faerie Queene. " Essay xi. 0/ myself" t Bishop Hurd has in his Library, at Hartlebury, a copy of the folio edition of the Faerie Queent-, which had been Dryden's and Papers but there is not a note by either. Manuscript note by Br. Farmer, prefixed to the sixth vol. oj Ilaghes's Spenser now in the possession of Tsaac Reed, Esqr, u See Dr. Scwell's remark cited by Mr. Chalmers, Suppl. Apolog. ip. 38. I might add the zealous testimony also of several poetical writers in regard to the fame of Spenser. Si:e Henry More's Preface to his Philosophical Poems. See rIso his Antidote &c. at the end of his Dissertation on the Seven Churches, in the preface to which Sign 0. 3. there is much allusion to Spenser. See likewise the Preface to Dr. Woodford's Paraphrase on the Canticles &c. in the preface to which the highest commendations are bestowed on Spenser, and much sorrow expressed (Jiat his version of the Canticles is lost.— Some imagine that Banyan, in his Pilgrim's Progress, has been indebted SOME ACCOUNT OF THE LIFE OF SPENSER. Wn Mr. Warton has remarked that, after the Faerie Queene, allegory began to decline ; and, I may add, that romantick expeditions and adventnres found no second Spenser to celebrate them. I am much mistaken, if the prevailing taste for enchantments and 'Miard assays" did not give rise to a publication, soon after the appearance of the second edition of Spenser's great Poem, intended to ridicule the tales of giants, magicians, and dragons ; and to expose also the * affected language with which our? old romances abound. We therefore precede Cervantes in the rough treatment of knight-errantry, if my conjecture be right : for the '■ KniyU of the Sea, the publication which I mean, was printed in ICOO ; and the first edition of Don Quixote was not printed before 1G05. In vain, however, shall we look into this English performance for any sparks of the wit and imagination whicli distinguish the inimitable Spanish burlesque. That the reader may judge of the tendency of this Knight of the Sea, I will select a few passages; as, a description of the sun rising, p. 31. "On the next morrow, so soone as th« fyre-breathing palfreys of Apollo, with their horned hooves, had stricken the Ilunts up, &c." Again, of an English female warriour, p. 152. "So valourously did the wortiiy English damozell distribute her iron almes among the thickest of that rabble multitude, as in a muinunt shee brought more then nineteene of them with erased crownes to their Beso lastierrasT' Again, of a lady complaining in prison, p. 44. *• Hclpe, therefore, oh ye heavenly Govemours, " And from the vertice of Olympus hye, " Yielding regard vnto my plaintfull cry, " Powre downe your mercies most incessantly ; " Least, wanting the adjument heavenly, ** And sacred auxHlof celestiall powers, *' Like Biblis, I be turned into showers, " Through the effluction of my watery eyes ; «' Which, hauing powred forth continually *' Whole rivereis of teares, denolifyes *' Dire death shall o'er my soule soon tyrannize !'* It has been asserted by * criticks of great discernment, that Spenser's Fa3 professe and chevalry. Then, by like right, the noble Progeny, Which theni succeed in fame and worth, are tyde T' embrace the service of sweet Poetry, By whose endevours they are glorifide ; And eke from all, of whom it is envide. To patronize the authom- of their praise, [dide, Which gives them life, that els would soone have And crownes their ashes with immortall bales. To thee therefore. Right Noble Lord, I send This present of my paines, it to defend. E. S. To THE Right HoNouftABLE thb Earle of Cumberland. Redoubted Lord, iu whose corageous mind The flowre of chevalry, now bloosming faire. Doth promise fruite worthy the noble kind "Which of their praises have left you the haive ; To you this humble present I prepare, For love of vertue and of martial praise ; To which though nobly ye inclined are, (As goodlie well ye shew'd in late assaiesj) Yet brave ensanaple of long passed dales, In which trew honor ye may fashiond see, To hke desire of honor may ye raise. And fill your mind with magnaniraitee. Receive it, Lord, therefore as it was ment. For honor of your name and high descent. E. S. To the most Honourable and excellent Lord the Earlb of Essex, Great Maister of the Horse to her Highnesse, and Knight of the Noble order of the Gartf.r, &c. Magnificke Lord, whose vertues excellent Doe merit a most famous Poets witt To be thy living praises instrument ; Yet doe not sdeigne to let thy name be writt In this base Poeme, for thee far unfitt : Nought is thy worth disparaged thereby. But when my Muse, whose fethers, nothing flitt,|| Doe yet but flagg and lowly learne to fly, § That loves, &c.] Hero is an ellipsis of him before that. T. Warton. 1 flitt,] Flitt is the adjective fleet, thus written for the sake of the rhyme ; ns the vorb/cef, in other places. T. Wahto.v. VERSES ADDRESSED BY THE AUTHOR With bolder wing shall dare alofte to sty To the last praises* of this Faery Q,ueene ; Tlieu shall it make most famous memory Of thine heroicke parts, such as they beene : Till then, vouchsafe thy noble comitenaunce To theh> first labours needed furtheraunce. E. S. To THE Right Honolbable thb EARr.y. ov OnMOND AND OSSORY. Receive, most Noble Lord, a simple taste Of the wilde fruit which salvage soyl hath bred ; Which, being through long wars left almost waste, With brutish barbarisme is overspredd : And, in so faire a land as may be redd, Not one Parnassus, nor one Helicone, Left for sweete Muses to be harbom-ed, _ But where thyselfe hast thy brave mansione : There indeede dvvel faire Graces many one, And gentle Nymphes, dehghts of learned wits ; And in thy person, without paragone. All goodly bountie and true honour sifs. Sucli therefore, as that wasted soyl doth yield. Receive, dear Lord, in worth, the fruit of barren field. E. S- To THE RrGHT Honoiirablp: the Lord Charles How/ rd. Lord high Admiral of England, Knight of this Noble order of the Gartkh, and one of her Majestie's privie Counskl, &c. And ye, brave Lord, whose goodly personage And noble deeds, each other garnishing. Make you eusample, to the present age. Of th' old heroes, whose famous offspring The antique Poets wont so much to sing ; In this same Pageaunt have a worthy place, Sith those huge castles of Castilian King, That vainly tlireatned kingdomes to displace. Like flying doves ye did before you chace ; f And that proud people, woxen insolent Through many victories, didst first deface : Thy praises everlasting monument Is in this verse engraven semblably, That it may live to aU posterity. E. S. To THE RiqHT nONOURArJLB THE LoRD OF FfUNSDON, HIGH Chawbbrlaine to her Maj! sty. Renowmed Lord, that, for your wortliinesse And noble deeds, have your deserved place High in the favour of that Emperesse, The worlds sole glory and her sexes grace ; Here eke of right have you a worthie place. Both for your nearnes to that Faerie Queene, And for your owne liigh merit in hke cace : Of which, appiiraunt proofe was to be scene. When that tumultuous rat^e and fearfull deenet Of Northerne rebels ye did pacify, § And their disloiall powre defaced clene, The record of endm'uig memory. Live, Lord, for ever m this lasting verse, That all posteritie thy honor may reherae. * the \3if,t jiraisesi The ^o^f praises of the Faerie Oueene, signify nine more Books «'hich Spenser h:id p .oposed to complete, according to liig original plan. These t-u jnets, it must be remembered, were sent with the three firLt Books, .vhich in the last line of this Sonnet the poet biyles " thesiijirst labours." T. Warton. t Like Jlying doves ye did be/ore. you chace ,-] The Icfeat of the Spanish Armada is here hinted at. T. Warton. * ■ deeneT Din, noise. T. "Wahton. K.S. to the most renowmed and valiant lord, the loril Grey of Wilton, Knight of the Noble order of THE Garter, &c. Most Noble Lord, the pillor of my life, And Patrone of my Muses pupillage ; Through whose large bountie, poured on me rife, In the first season of my feeble age, I now doe live bound yours by vassalage ; (Sith nothing ever may redeeme, nor reave Out of your endlesse debt, so sure a gage ; ) Vouchsafe, in worth, this small guift to receavo, Which in youi' noble hands for pledge I leave Of all the rest that I am tyde t' account : Rude rymes, the which a rustick Muse did weave 111 savadge soyle, far from Pamasso Mount, And roughly \^Tought in an unlearned loome : The which vouchsafe, dear Lord, your favom'able doome. E. S. To THE Eight Honourable the Lord of BucKHiiRffr, oxa OF HER Majestie's PRiviE Counsell. In vain I thinke. Right Honourable Lord, By this rude rime to memorize thy Name, Whose learned Muse hath writ her o^vne record In golden verse, worthy immortal fame : Thou much more fit (were leasure to tlie same) Thy gracious Soverains praises to compile, And her imperiall Majestie to frame In loftie numbers and heroicke stile. But, sith thou maist not so, give leave a while To baser wit his power therein to spend. Whose grosse defaults thy daintie pen may file, And unadvised oversights amend. But evermore vouchsafe, it to maiutaine Against vile Zoilus backbitings vaine. E. S. To the Right Honourable Sir Francis Walringhah, Knight, pkincipall Secretary to her Ma-iksty AND one of her honourable PRIVY COUNSE'L, That JIantuane Poets incomparedll spirit. Whose girland now is set in highest place, Had not Mecsenas, for his worthy merit, It first advaunst to great Augustus grace, Might long perhaps have lien in silence bace, Ne bene so much admir'd of later age. This lowly Muse, that learns hke steps to trace^ Fhes for like aide unto your patronage,1j (That are the great Mecaenas of this age, As well to all that civil artes professe, As those that are inspir'd mth martial rage,) And craves protection of her feeblenesse : § ye did pacify, Sio.'} Namely, the rebellion raiscJ in 15fi9.— TODD. D incompared] Incomparable. So unvalued is invaluable. Todd. II into your patronage, kc.') See the Mini of Time, ver. 436, where Sir Francis is intended unier the name of Melihtt. Todd TO SEVERAL NOBLEMEN, &c. Which if ye yield, perhaps ye may her rayse In bigger tunes to soimd your hving prayse. E. S. To THE Right Noble Lord and most vauaunt Captainb, Sir John NonBiSj Knight, Lord Pkesident of MOUNSTEII. Who ever gave more honourable prize To the sweet Muse tlien did tlie Maa'tiall crew. That their brave deeds she might immortalize lu her shril tromp, and sound their praises dew 3 Who then ought more to favour her tlien you, Most Noble Lord, the honor of tliis age, And Precedent of all that armes ensue ? Whose warhke prowesse and manly coui'age, Tempred with reason and advizement sage. Hath fild sad Belgicke with victorious spoile ; In Fraunce and Ireland left a famous gage ; And lately shakt the Lusitanian soile. Sith then each where thou hast dispredd thy fame. Love him that hath eternized your Name. E.S. To THE Right Noble and "Valorous Knight, Sir Walter Raleigh, Lord Wardein of the Stannerves, and lilEFTKNAUNT OF CORNEWAILE. To thee, that art the Sommers Nightingale, Thy soveraine Goddesses most deare delight. Why doe I send this rusticke Madrigale, That may thy tmiefuU eare imseason quite 2 Thou onely fit this Argument to write. In whose high thoughts Pleasure hath built her bowre. And dainty Love learnd sweetly to endite. My rimes I know unsavory and sowre. To tast the sti'eames that, like a golden showre, Flow from thy fruitfuU head of thy Love's praise ; Fitter perhaps to thonder martiall stowre, Whenso thee list thy lofty Muse to raise : Yet, tUl that Thou thy Poeme wilt make Imowne, Let thy faire Cinthias praises* be thus rudely showne. E. S. To THE Right Honourable and most vebtuous Lady, THE CoUNTESSE OF PEMBROKE. Remembkaunce of that most heroicke Spirit, The herens pride, the glory of our dales, [merit Wliich now triumpheth (tlrrough immortall * Let thy faire Cinthias praises, &c.] An allusion to tho poem ivritten by Sir Walter, entitled Cynthia. Todd. Of his brave vertues) crown'd with lasting bales Of lievenlie blis and everlasting praies ; Who first my Muse did lift out of the flore, To sing his sweet dehghts in lowlie laies ; Bids me, most Noble Lady, to adore His goodly image hving evermore In the divine resemblaunce of your face ; Which with your vertues ye embeUisli more, And native beauty deck with heavenly grace : For His, and for your owue especial sake. Vouchsafe from him-j- this token in good worth to take. E. S. To THE MOST VERTUOUS AND EEAUTIFULL LaDV, TUB Lady d aew. Ne may I, without blot of endlesse blame. You, fairest Lady, leave out of this place ; But, with remembraunce of yom- gracious Name, (Wherewith that com'tly garlond most ye grace And deck tlie world,) adorue these verses base ; Not that these few lines can in them comprise Those glorious ornaments of hevenly grace. Wherewith ye triumph over feeble eyes And in subdued harts do tyranyse ; (For thereunto doth need a golden quUl And silver leaves, them rightly to devise ;) But to make humble present of good will : Which, whenas timely meanes it purchase may. In ampler wise itselfe will forth display. E. S. To ALL THE OHATIOUS AND EEAUTIFULL LADIES IN THE Court. The Chian Pemcter, when he was requir'd To pourtraict Venus in her perfect hew ; To make his woi^je more absolute, desir'd Of all the fairest Maides to have the vew. Much more me needs, (to draw the semblant trew Of Beauties Queeue, the worlds sole wonder- ment,) To sharpe my sence with sundry Beauties vew. And steale from each some part of ornament. If all the world to seeke I overwent, A fairer crew yet no where could I see Then that bi'ave Court doth to mine eie present ; That the world's pride seemes gathered there to Of each a part I stole by cunning thefte : [bee. I orgive it me, faire Dames, sith lesse ye have not lefte. E. S. t Vouchsafe from hXm] It should be 7«€, Church. THE FIRST BOOK OF THE FAERIE QUEENE; CONTAVNINO THE LEGEND OF THE KNIGHT OF THE RED CROSSE, OR OF HOI.INESSE. Lo ! I, the man whose Muse whylome did maske. As time her taught, in lowly shepheards weeds. Am now enforst, a farre unfitter taske, For trumpets steme to chaunge mine oaten reeds. And sing of Knights and Ladies gentle deeds ; Whose praises having slept in silence long, Me, all too meane, the sacred Muse areeds To blazon broade emongst her learned throng : Fierce warres and faithful loves shall moralize my song. [I. Help then, holy virgin, chiefe of nyne. Thy weaker novice to perform thy will ; Lay forth out of thine everlasting scryiie The antique roUes, which there lye hidden still. Of Faerie Knights, and fayrest Tanaquill Whom that most noble Briton Prince so long Sought through the world, and suffered so much That I must rue his undeserved ^vrong : [ill, O, helpe thou my weake wit, and sharpen my duU tong ! And thou, most dreaded impe of highest love, Faire Venus Sonne, that with thy cruell dart At that good Knight so cunningly didst rove. That glorious fire it kindled in liis liart ; Lay now thy deadly heben bowe apart. And, with thy mother raylde, come to mine ayde ; Come, both ; and with you bring tinuniphaut Mai-t, In loves and gentle ioUities arraid. After his mm-drous spoyles and bloudie i-age allayd. And with them eke, Goddesse heavenly bright, Mirrour of grace and majestie divine, Great ladie of the greatest isle, whose light Like Phoebus lampe throughout the world doth shine. Shed thy faire beames uito my feeble eyne. And raise my thoughtes, too humble and too vile, I- 2. . in lowli/ shepheards Keedsi] Spensei, about the age of 26, published his Shepheards Calender in 4to. 1579 ; elev.en years before the first publication of the Faerie Queene. Church. II. 3. thine everlasting scryne] An escritoire, desk, from the Latin scrinium. Upion. ■II. 7. Iriumphant Mart,] Mart, the God of War. UfTON. To thinke of that true glorious tj'pe of thmc, The Argument of mine afflicted stile : The which to heare vouchsafe, dearest Dread, o while. CANTO L The Patron of true Holinesae Foule Errour doth defeate; Bypocrisie, him to entrappe, Doth to Ills home eatreate. A GENTLE Knight was pricking on the plame, Ycladd in mightie armes and silver shielde. Wherein old dints of deepe woundes did remains The cruel markes of many' a bloody fielde ; Yet armes till that time did he never wield : His angry steede did chide his foming bitt. As much disdayning to the curbe to yield : I'Vll ioUy knight he seemd, and faire did sitt. As one for knightly giusts and fierce encounters fit'. And on his brest a Hoodie crosse he bore. The deare remembrance of his dying Lord, For whose sweete sake that glorious badge he wore, And dead, as living ever, him ador'd : Upon his shield the like was also scor'd. For soveraine hope, which in his helpe he had. Right, faithfuU, true he was in deede and word ; But of his cheere did seeme too solemne sai? ; Yet notlimg did he dread, but ever was ydrad. Upon a great adventm-e he was bond. That greatest Gloriana to him gave, (That greatest glorious queene of Faery lond,) To winne him worsliippe, and her grace to have. Which of all earthly thinges he most did crave ; And ever, as he rode, his'haart did earne IV. 7. ' that true glorious type of thine,'} Una, or Truth. Church. IV. 8. mine afflicted stile ;] JJlicted stile means low and jejune. Ital. Stito affiillo. Upton. IV. 9. dearest Dread,] The same expression we meet with below, i. vi. 2. " Una his dear Dread," i. e. one whom he reverenced. Uprow. I. 8. Full iolly knighf\ Handsome. Fr. Joli. Todd. H. 8. iifhls cheere] Countenance. Todd. n>iil solemne sad ;] Sad, aa Mr. Warton has ob- served, did not always imply sorrow, but gravity of coud tenance and deportment. Todd. CANTO !.J THE FAERTE Q,UEENE. To prove his puissance in battel! brave Upon his foe, and his new force to learne ; Upon liis foe, a Di-agon horrible and steame. IV. A lovely Ladie rode him faire beside. Upon a lowly asse more white tiien snow ; Yet she mnch whiter ; but the same did hide Under a vele, tliat wimpled was full low ; And over all a blacke stole shee did tlu'ow : As one that inly mournd, so was she sad, And heavie sate upon her palfrey slow ; Seemed in heart some hidden care she had ; And by her in a hne a milke-white lambe she lad. So pure and innocent, as that same lambe. She was in life and every vertuous lore ; And by descent from royall lynage came Of ancient kinges and queenes, that had of yore Their scepters stretcht from east to westerne shore. And all the world in their subjection held ; Till that hifemal Feend witli foule uprore Forwasted all their land, and them expeld ; Wliom to avenge, she had this Knight from far compel d. vr. Behind her farre away a Dwarfe did lag. That lasie seemd, in being ever last. Or wearied with bearing of her bag Of needments at his backe. Thus as they past, The day with eloudes was suddeine overcast. And angry love an hideous stoi-me of raine Did poiu'e into his lemans lap so fast. That everie wight to shrewd it did constrain ; And this fau'e couple eke to shroud themselves wei'e fain. VI r. Enforst to seeke some covert nigh at hand, A shadie grove not farr away they spide, That promist ayde the tempest to withstand ; Whose loftie trees, yclad with sommers pride, Did spred so broad, that heavens light did hide. Not perceable \vith power of any Starr : And all within were pathes and aUeies wide, Witli footing wome, and leading inward fan* : Faire harbour that them seems ; so in they eu- tred ar. vrrr. And foorth they passe, with pleasure forward led, loying to heare the birdes sweete harmony, "Which, the rein shrouded from the tempest dred, Seemd in their song to scorne the cruell sky. Much can they praise the trees so straight and hy. The sayling pine ; the cedar proud and tall ; The vine-propp elme ; the poplar never di"y ; The builder oake, sole king of forrests all ; The aspine good for staves ; the cypresse funerall ; IX, The laurel), meed of mightie conquerours And poets sage ; the fiiTe that weepeth still ; TV. 4. Under a vele, that wimpled teas full low ,-] A veil plaited. But tlie veil and the wimple were two different articles in the dress of a nun. Upton. v(. 9. were fain.] Glad. Church- VIII. 5. Much can they praise ] The reader will find this expression very often, Much can they praise — i. e. Much they praised. UrroN. VIII. 7- The vine-propp elme ;] i. e. the elm that props 'Jii and supports the vine. Upton. The willow, worne of foi-lorno paramours ; The eugh, obedient to the benders will ; The birch for shaftes ; the sallow for the mill ; The mirrhe sweete-bloeding in the bitter Avonnd ; The warlike beech ; the ash for nothing ill ; The fruitfuU olive ; and the platane round ; The carver holme ; the maple seeldom inward sound. Led with delight, they thus beguile the way, Untill the blustring storme is overblo\vne ; When, weenuig to retm-ne whence they did sti'ay. They cannot finde that path, which first was showne. But wander too and fro in waies unknowne, Fm-thest from end then, when they neerest weeue, That makes them doubt their wits be not their So many pathes, so many turnings seene,[owne : That, which of them to take, in diverse doubt they been. XI. At last resohing forward still to fare. Till that some end they finde, or in or out. That path they talce, that beaten seemd most And like to lead the lab}a*mth about ; [bare, Wliich when by tract they hunted had through- out, At length it brought them to a hollow cave. Amid the thickest woods. The Champion stout Eftsoones dismounted from his courser brave. And to the Dwarfe a while his needlesse spere he gave. xir. " Be well aware," quoth then that Ladie mild, " Least suddaine mischiefe ye too rash provolie : " The danger hid, the place unkno^vne and wilde, Breedes dreadfull doubts ; oft fire is without smoke, And perill without show : therefore your stroke, Sh' Knight, with-hold, till fui'ther tryall made." " Ah Ladie," sayd he, " shame w^ere to revoke The forward footing for an hidden shade : Vertue gives her selfe Hght through darlmesse for to wade." XIII. " Yea but," quoth she, " the perill of this place I better wot then you : Though nowe too late To wish you backe returne with foule disgrace. Yet wisedome wames, whilest foot is in the gate. To stay the steppe, ere forced to retrate. This is the wandring wood, this Errours den, A monster vile, whom God and man does hate : Therefore I read beware." " Fly, fly," quoth then The fearefuU Dwarfe ; " this is no place for livhij men." xrv. But, full of fire and greedy hardiment. The youthful! Knight could not for ought be staide ; But forth unto the darksom hole he went, And looked in : his glistring armor made A htle gloomuig light, much like a shade ; By which he saw the ugly monster plaine, Halfe like a serpent horribly displaide, But th' other halfe did womans shape retaine. Most lothsom, filtliie, foule, and full of vile disdaine 10 THE FAERIE QUEENE. [HOOK I. And, as slie lay upon the durt^e gi'ound, Her Imge long taile her den all overspred, Yet was in knots and many boughtes upwound, Pointed with mortall sting : Of her there bred A tliousand yong ones, which she dayly fed, Sucldng upon her poisnous dugs ; each one Of sundrie shapes, yet all ill-favored ; Soone as that uncouth light upon them shone. Into her mouth they crept, and suddaia all were gone. xvr. Their dam upstart out of her den effraide. And rushed foi-th, hm-ling her hideous taile About her cursed head ; whose folds displaid Were stretcht now forth at length without en- traile. She lookt about, and seemg one in mayle. Armed to point, sought backe to tm-ne againe ; For light she hated as the deadly bale. Ay wont in desert darknes to remains. Where plain none might her see, nor she see any plaine. xvir. Which when the valiant Elfe perceiv'd, he lept As lyon fierce upon the flying pray. And with bis trenchand blade her boldly kept From turning baclfe, and forced her to stay : Therewith enrag'd she loudly gan to bray. And turning fierce her speckled taile advaunst, Threatning her angrie sting, him to dismay. Who, nought aghast, his mightie hand enhaunst ; The stroke down from her head unto her shoulder glaunst. xvnr. Much daunted with that dmt her sence was dazd ; yet kindling rage her selfe she gathered round. And all attonee her beastly bodie raizd With doubled forces high above the ground : Tho, wrapping up her wrethed sterne arownd, Lept fierce upon his shield, and her huge traine All suddenly about his body wound. That hand or foot to stirr he strove in vaine. God helpe the man so wrapt in Errours endlesse traine ! xrx. His Lady, sad to see his sore constraint, Cride out, " Now, now. Sir Knight, shew what ye bee ; Add faith unto your force, and be not faint ; Strangle hex*, els she sure will strangle thee." That when he heard, m great perplexitie. His gall did grate for griefe and high disdaine ; And, knitting all his force, got one hand free, XV. 3. Yet was in knots and many boughtes upwound^'] Many bouc/hts, J. e. many circular folds, Upton. xvr. 4. without entraile."] That is, untwisted. Church. XVI. 7. ■ t^e deadly b.ile,] Bale is here used lite- rally for poison, its genuine signification. T. Wabton. xv". 3. ins trenchand blade'\ Fi. Trancher, cuttinij. Church. XVIII 5. Tho, wrapping np her wrethed steme arownd,'] i. e. Then wrapping all around her wreathed tail. Upton. XVIII. 6. and her huge traine Alt suddenly about his body wound. That hand or foot to stirr he strove in vaine. God helpe the man so wrapt in Errours endlesse traine !] Trains in the former verse signifies tail ; in the latter, deceit. Upton. Wherewitli he grypt her gorge witli so great paine. That soone to loose her wicked bands did her constraine. XX. Therewith she spewd out of her filthie maw A floud of poyson horrible and blacke. Full of great lumps of flesh, and gobbets raw, Which stunek so vildly, that it forst him slacks His grasping hold, and from her tmnie him backe : Her vomit full of bookes and papers was. With loathly frogs and toades, which eyes did lacke. And creeping sought way in the weedy grits : Her filthie parbreake all the place defiled has. As when old father Nilus gins to swell With timely pride above the Aegyptian vale. His fattie waves doe fertile slime outwell, And overflow each plaine and lowly dale : But, when his later spring gins to avale, [breed Huge heapes of mudd he leaves, wherin there Ten thousand kindes of creatures, partly male And partly femall, of his fruitful seed ; Such ugly monstrous shapes elswhere may no man reed. XXII. The same so sore annoyed has the Knight, That, wel-nigh choked with the deadly stinke, His forces faile, ne can no longer fight. Whose corage when the Feend perceivd to shrinke, She poured forth out of her hellish sinke Her fruitfull cursed spawne of serpents small, (Deformed monsters, fowls, and blacke as inke,) Which swarming all about his legs did crall. And him encombred sore, but could not hurt at all. As gentle shepheard in sweete eventide. When ruddy Phebus gins to welks in west. High on an hill, his flocks to vewen wide, Markes which doe byte their hasty supper best | A cloud of cumbrous gnattes doe him molest, All striving to infixe their feeble stinges. That from thsir noyance he no where can rest ; But with his clownish hands their tender wings He brushsth oft, and oft doth mar their murmur- ings. xxrv. Thus ill bestedd, and fearefuU more of shame Then of the certsins perill hs stood in, Halfs furious unto his foe he came. Resolved in minde all suddenly to win. Or soone to lose, before he once would lin ; And stroke at her with more then manly force, That from her body, full of filthie sin. He raft her hatefuU heade without remorse : A streame of cole-black blood forth gushed from her corse. XXV. Her scattred brood, soone as their pai-ent dears They saw so rudely falling to the ground, Groning fidl deadly all with troublous fears XX. 9. Her filthie parbreake] Parbreake is vomit. Todd. XXI. 5. But, when his later spring gins to avale,] To avale is to abate, to sink down, Ital. avallare. UrroM. CANTO I.] THE FAERIE Q,UEEN£. Gathrod themselves a'oout her body round, Weening their wonted enti-ance to have found At her wide mouth ; but, being there withstood, They flocked all about her bleeding wound. And sucked up their dj'ing mothers bloud ; Making her death their hfe, and eke her hurt tlieir good. XXVT. That detestable sight him much amazde. To see th' imldndly impes, of heaven accm'st, Devoure their dam ; on whom while so he gazd, Having all satisfide their bloudy thiu-st. Their bellies swolne he saw with fulnesse burst. And bowels gushing forth : Well worthy end Of such, as drunke her life, the wliich them nurst ! Now needeth him no lenger labour spend. His foes have slaine themselves, with whom he should contend. xxvrr. His Lady seemg all, that chaunst, from farre, Approeht in hast to greet his victorie ; And saide, " Faire Knight, borne under happie stan*e, Wlio see yom- vanquisht foes before you lye ; Well worthie be you of that armory. Wherein ye have great glory wonne this day. And proov'd your strength on a strong enimie ; Your first adventm-e : Many such I pray. And henceforth ever wish that like succeed it may ! " XXV TI. Vheu mounted he upon his steede againe. And with the Lady backward sought to wend : That path he kept, which beaten was most plaine, Ne ever would to any by-way bend ; But still did follow one unto the end. The which at last out of the wood them brought. So fo^^vard on his way (with God to frend) He passed forth, and new adventure sought : Long way he travelled, before he heard of ought. At length they chaunst to meet upon the way An aged Sire, in long blacke weedes yclad. His feete all bare, his beard all hoarie gray. And by his belt his booke he hanging had ; Sober he seemde, and very sagely sad ; And to the ground his eyes were lowly bent. Simple in shew, and voide of malice bad ; And all the way he prayed, as he went. And oiten knockt his brest, as one that did repent. He faire tho Knight saluted, louting low. Who faire him quited, as that courteous was ; And after asked him, if he did know Of straunge adventm-es, which abroad did pas. « Ah ! my dear Sonne," quoth he, " how should. Silly old man, that hves in hidden cell, [alas ! xxvni. 7. with God to frend] To he/rknd him. Todd. 3txx. 1. louting low,] This seems to have been « proverbial expression. " They were very tow in their loiotings : " Kayi The word is used in tho sense of ser- vilely bowing often in Spenser, and in Chancer and Skeltun. ToBD. XXX. 2. Who /aire him quited,] Requited, payed him back his salutations again. Upton. Bidding his beadcs all day for his trespils, Tydings of warre and worldly trouble tell I With holy father sits not with such tliingesto mell " But if of daunger, which hereby doth dwell. And homebredd evil ye desire to heai-e. Of a straunge man I can you tidings tell, That wasteth all this countrie farre and neare.*' " Of such, " saide he, " I chiefly doe inquere ; And shall thee well rewarde to shew the place, lu which that wicked wight his dayes doth weare : For to all knighthood it is foule disgrace, That such a cursed creatm'e liv'^s so long a space.'* " Far hence," quoth he, " in wastfull wildernesse His dwelling is, by which no living wight May ever passe, but thorough great distresse." " Now," saide the Ladie, " di-aweth toward night; And well I wote, that of your later fight Ye all forwearied be ; for what so strong. But, wanting rest, will also want of might ? The sunne, that measures heaven all day long. At night doth baite his steedes the ocean waves emong. xxxrrr, " Tlien with the sunne take. Sir, your timely rest. And with new day new worke at once begin : Untroubled night, they say, gives counsell best." " Right well. Sir Knight, ye have advised bin," Q,uoth then that aged man ; " the way to wui Is wisely to advise : now day is spent ; Therefore with me ye may take up your In For this same night." The Knight was well content : So with that godly Father to his home they went. A litle lowly hermitage it was, Downe in a dale, hard by a forests side, Far from resort of people, that did pas In traveUl to and froe : a htle wyde There was an holy chappell edifyde. Wherein the Hermite dewly wont to say His holy things each mome and eventyde : Thereby a christaU streame did gently play. Which from a sacred foimtaine welled forth alway. XXXV. Arrived there, the litle house they fill, Ne looke for entertainement, where none was ; Rest is their feast, and all thinges at their will : The noblest mind the best contentment has. With faire discourse the evening so they pas ; For that olde man of pleasing wordes had store. And weU could file his tongue, as smooth as glas : He told of saintes and popes, and evei-more He strowd an Am-Mary after and before. XXX. 9. With holy father sits wof] It sits not, 'tis not becoming. II sicd, it sits well, 'tis becoming. So we say, it sits well on a person. Upton. XXXIV. 6. an holy chappell edifyde,] Bvilt. Todd. XXXV. 7. And well could file his tongue,] This expres- sion we often find both in our poet, and in those old poets whom he imitated. 'Tis a Gallicism: "Avuir la lanyuebier ajfilie." Upi d.n. 12 THE FAEHrE QUEENE. [book I. The droupiiig night thus creepeth on them fast ; And the sad humor loading their eye-liddes, As messenger of Morpheus, on them cast Sweet slombring deaw, the which to sleep them biddes. Unto their lodgings then his guestes he riddes : Where when all drownd in deadly sleepe he findes. He to his s(udie goes ; and there amiddes His magick bookes, and artes of svmdrie kindes, He seeks out mighty eharmes to trouble sleepy minds. xxxvlr. Then choosing out few words most horrible, (Let none them read !) thereof did verses frame ; With which, and other spelles like terrible, He bad awake blacke Plutoes griesly dame ; And cursed heven ; and spake reprochful shame Of highest God, the Lord of life and light. A bold bad man ! that dar'd to call by name Great Gorgon, prince of darknes and dead night ; At which Cocytus (juakes, and Styx is put to flight. xxxvrir. And foi-tli he cald out of deepe darknes dredd Legions of sprights, the which, like litle flyes, Fluttring about his ever-damned hedd, Awaite whereto their service he applyeg, To aide his friendes, or fray his enimies : Of those he chose out two, the falsest twoo. And fittest for to forge true-seeming lyes ; The one of them he gave a message too. The other by hunselfe staide other worke to doo. XXXIX, He, makmg speedy way through spersed ajTe, And througli tlie world of waters wide and deepe. To Morpheus house doth hastily repaire. Amid the bowels of the earth full steepe. And low, where dawning day doth never peepe. His dwelling is ; there Tethys his wet bed Doth ever wash, and Cynthia still doth steepe In silver deaw his ever-drooping hed. Whiles sad Night over him hor mantle black doth spred. XT.. Whose double gates he findeth locked fast ; The one faire fram'd of Ijm-nisht yvory. The other all with silver overcast ; And wakeful dogges before them farre doe lye, Watching to banish Care their enimy. Who oft is wont to trouble gentle Sleepe. By them the Sprite doth passe in quietly. And unto Morpheus comes, whom drowned deepe In drowsie fit he findes ; of nothing he takes keepe. And, more to luUe him in his slumber soft, A trickling streame from high rock tumbling And ever-di'izling raine upon the loft, [downe, Mixt with a murmuring winde, much lilte the sowne Of swarming bees, did cast him in a swowne. No other noyse, nor peoples troublous cryes. As still are wont t'annoy the walled towne. XXXIX. 1. ■ through spersed apre,'] The word fpersed, OTSparsed, for dispersed^ scattered^ often occurij in our old writers. Todd. Might there be heard : but carelesse Quiet lyes, Wrapt in eternall sUence farre from enimyes. The messenger approching to him spalie ; But his waste wordes retournd to him in vaine : So sound he slept, that nought mought him awake. Then rudely he him thrust, and pusht with paine. Whereat he gau to stretch : but he againe Shooke him so hai'd, that forced him to speake. As one then in a drearae, whose dryer braine Is tost with ti'oubled sights and fancies weake. He mumbled soft, but would not all his silence breake. XLIII. The Sprite then gan more boldly him to wake, And threatned unto him the dreaded name Of Hecate : whereat he gan to quake. And, lifting up his lompish head, with blame Halfe angrie asked him, for what he came. " Hether," quoth he, " me Archimago sent, He that the stubbome sprites can wisely tame. He bids thee to him send for his intent A fit false Dreame, that can delude the sleepers sent." XLIV. The God obayde ; and, calling forth straight way A diverse Dreame out of his prison darke. Delivered it to him, and downe did lay His heavie head, devoide of careful carke ; Whose sences all were straight benumbd and He, backe returning by the yvorie dore, [starke. Remounted up as light as chearefull larke ; And on his litle winges the Dreame he bore In hast unto his lord, where he him left afore. "Vvtio all this while, with eharmes and hidden artes, Had made a Lady of that other Spright, And fram'd of Uquid ayre her tender partes. So hvely, and so like in all mens sight. That weaker sence it coiUd have ravisht quight : The Maker selfe, for all his wondrous witt. Was nigh beguiled with so goodly sight. Her all in white he clad, and over it Cast a black stole, most like to seeme for Una fit. Now when that ydle Dreame was to him brought. Unto that Elfin Knight he bad him fly. Where he slept soundly void of evil thought. And with false shewes abuse his fantasy ; In sort as he him schooled privily. And that new creature, borne without her dew, Full of the Makers guyle, with usage sly He taught to imitate that Lady trew, [hew. Whose semblance she did carrie under feigned xu. 8. carelesse Quiet] Quiet is hero a person. " Secura quies" is Virgil's epithet, as Mr. Upton has ob- served. Todd. XLii;. 9 That can delude the sleepers sent.] SmiiI, sensation, perception, as Mr. Church and Mr. Wartonboth explain ; the original spelling being sent, ToDD. XLfV. 2. w4 diverse Dreame'] A dream that would octa* sion diversity and distraction. Upton. XLIV. 4. careful carlte ;] Thought or care. Todd. xLvi. 6. borne without her dew,] That is, pro- duced, but not according to the course of nature. OHOfiCB CANTO I.] THE FAERIE QUEENE. JJ Thus, well mstTOcted, to their worke they hast« ; And, comming where the Knight in slomber lay, The one upon his hardie head him plaste, And made him dreame of loves and histfull p!ay ; That nigh his manly hai't did melt away, Bathed in wanton blis and wicked ioy. Then seemed huu his Lady by him lay. And to him playnd, how that false winged boy Her chaste hai't had subdewd to learne dame Pleasures toy, xLvni. And she her sehe, of beautie soveraigue queene, Fayre Venus, seemde mito his bed to bring Her, whom he, waking, evermore did weene To bee tlie chastest flowi'e that aye did spring On eartlily braunch, the daughter of a king. Now a loose leman to vile service bound ; And eke the Graces seemed all to sing, Hymen lo Hymen, dauncing all around ; Wliylst fi-eshest Flora her with y vie girlond crownd. In this great passion of unwonted lust, Or wonted feare of doing ought amis. He starteth up, as seeming to mistrust Some secret ill, or hidden foe of his : Lo, there before his face his Ladie is. Under blacke stole hyding her bayted hooke ; And as halfe blushing offred him to Ids, With gentle blandisliment and lovely looke, Most like that Virgin true, which for her Knight him took. All cleane dismayd to see so uncouth sight. And halfe enraged at her shamelesse guise. He thought have slaine her in his fierce despight ; But, hastie heat tempring with sufferance wise. He stayde his hand ; and gan himselfe advise To prove his sense, and tempt her faigned truth. "Wrmging her hands, iu wemens pitteous wise, Tho caj) she weepe, to stirre up gentle ruth Both for her noble blood, and for her tender youth. Lr. And sayd, " Ah Sir, my liege lord, and my love, Shall I accuse the hidden cruell fate. And mightie causes wrought in heaven above, Or the blind god, that doth me thus amate. For hoped love to winne me certaine hate ? Yet thus perforce he bids me do, or die. Die is my dew ; yet rew my wi'etched state, Yon, whom my hard avenging destinie Hath made iudge of my hfe or death indifferently : " Your o^vne deare sake forst me at first to leave My fathers kingdom" — There she stopt with teares ; Her swollen hart her speech seemd to bereave ; And then againe begun ; " My weaker yeares, Captiv'd to fortune and frayle worldly feares. Fly to your fayth for succour and sure ayde : Let me not die in languor and long teares." " Why, dame," quoth he, " what hath ye thus dismayd i [affrayd V What frayes ye, tliat were wont to comfort me " Love of yourselfe," she saide, " and deare con- straint, Lets me not sleepe, but waste the wearie night In secret anguish and unpittied plaint, Wliiles you in carelesse sleepe are drowned quight." Her doutbfuU words made that redoubted Knight Suspect her truth ; yet since no' untruth he Itnew Her fawnmg love with foule disdainefull spight He would not shend ; but said, " Deare dame, I rew. That for my sake unknowne such griefe unto you grew : L[V. " Assure your selfe, it fell not all to gi-ound ; For all so deare, as life is to my hart, I deeme yom- love, and hold me to you bound : Ne let vaine fears procure your needlesse smart. Where cause is none ; but to your rest depart." Not all content, yet seemd she to appease Her mournefull plaintes, beguiled of her art. And fed with words, that could not chose but please : So, slyding softly forth, she turnd as to her ease. Long after lay he musing at her mood. Much griev'd to thinke that gentle Dame so hght, For whose defence he was to shed his blood. At last dull wearines of former fight Having yrockt asleepe his irkesome spright, That troublous Dreame gan freshly tosse hig braine With bowres, and beds, and ladies deare dehght : But, when he saw his labour all was vaine. With that misformed Spright he backe returnd againe. CANTO IL The Builefull great Enchaunter parts The Redcrosse Kmsbt from Truth; Into whose stead faire Falshood steps. And workes him woeful! ruth. By this the northerne wagoner had set His sevenfold teme behind the stedfast starre That was in ocean waves yet never wet, But firme is fixt, and sendeth liglit from fari'e To all that in the wide deepe wandring arre ; And chearefuU chaunticlere with his note shrill Had warned once, that Phoebus fiery carre In hast was cKmbing up the easterne hill, Full envious that night so long his roome did fill : When those accursed messengers of hell. That feigning Dreame, and that faire-forged Spright, Came to their wicked Maister, and gan tell Their bootelesse paiues, and ill-succeeding night ; I. 1. . • the northerne wagoner ^SiC] The no7-therne wagoner IB BoOltes, one of the constellations; hia seven/old teme are the seven stars in the tail and hinder part of tba Greater Bear, and vulgarly called Cfiarles's Wain ; and the steit/ast starre is the Pole-star. Church, xi THE i' AERIE tiUEENE. i.ii0011 ) Who, all in rage to see liis sMlfuU might Deluded so, gau tlireaten hellish paine And sad Proserpines wrath, them to affright. But, when lie saw his threatning was but vaine, He east about, and searcht his baleful bokes againe. Eftsoones he tooke that miscreated Faire, And that false other Spright, on whom he spred A seeming body of the subtile aire. Like a young Squire, iu loves and lustyhed His wanton dales that ever loosely led, Without regard of armes and di'eaded fight ; Those two he tooke, and in a secrete bed. Covered with darkenes and misdeeming night. Them both together laid, to ioy in vaine delight. Forthwith he runnes with feigned-faithfuU hast Unto his guest, who, after troublous sights And dreaqies, gan now to take more sound repast ; Whom suddenly he wakes with fearful frights. As one aghast with feends or damned sprights. And to mm calls ; " Rise, rise, unhappy swaine. That here wex old in sleepe, whiles wicked wights Have knit themselves in Venus shameful chaine : Come, see where your false Lady doth her honor staine." v. All in a maze he suddenly up start With sword in hand, and with the old man went ; Who soone liim brought into a secret part. Where that false couple were full closely ment In wanton lust and lend embracement : Which when he saw, he burnt with gealous fii'e ; The eie of reason was with rage yblent ; And would have slaine them in his furious ire. But hardly was restreiued of that aged sire. Retourning to his bed in torment gi-eat. And bitter anguish of his guilty sight. He could not rest ; but did his stout heart eat. And wast his inward gall with deepe despight, Yrkesome of life, and too long lingrmg night. At last faire Hesperas in highest skie Had spent his lampe, and brought forth da^vning Then up he rose, and clad him hastily ; [light ; The Dwarfe him brought his steed : so both away do fly. vir. Now when the rosy-fingred Moniing faire. Weary of aged Tithones saffron bed. Had spread her purple robe through deawy au-e ; And the high hils Titan discovered ; The royall Virgui shooke off drousyhed : And, rising forth out of her baser bowre, Lookt for her Knight, who far away was fled. And for her Dwarfe, that wont to waite each howre : — Then gan she wail and v/eepe to see that woeful sto^v^■e. VI/I. And after him she rode with so much speede. As her slowe beast could make ; but all in vaine : For him so far liad borne his lighf^foot steede. Pricked with wi-ath and fiery fierce disdaine, V. 4 /uU closily ment] Mingled. Mr, Tyrwhitt Bays the word is deiived from menge. Sax. Todd. That him to follow was but fruitlesse paine : Yet she her weary limbes would never rest ; But every hil and dale, each wood and plauie, Did seai'oh, sore grieved in her gentle brest, He so ungently left her, whome she loved best. But subtill Archimago, when his guests He saw divided into double parts. And Una wandring in woods and foiTests, (Th' end of his drift,) he praised his divelish arts, That had such might over true-meaning harts : Yet rests not so, but other meanes doth make, How he may worke unto her further smarts : For her he hated as the hissuig snake. And in her many troubles did most pleasure take. He then devisde himselfe how to disguise ; For by his mighty science he could take As many formes and shapes in seeming wise, As ever Proteus to himselfe could make : Sometime a fowle, sometime a fish m lake, Nc^v like a foxe, now like a dragon fell ; Tliat of himselfe he ofte for feai-e would quake, A tid oft would flie away. who can tell Th« hidden powre of herbes, and might of magic spell ! XI. But now seemde best the person to put on Of that good Knight, his late beguiled guest : — In mighty armes he was yclad anon. And silver shield ; upon his coward brest A bloody crosse, and on his craven crest A bounch of heares discolourd diversly. Full iolly knight he seemde, and wel addi'est ; And, when he sate uppon his courser free. Saint George himselfe ye would have deemed liiiu to be. xir. But he, the Knight, whose semblaunt he did beai'e, The time Saint George, was waudred far away, StiU flying from his thoughts and gealous fears ; WiU was his guide, and griefe led him astray. At last him cliaunst to meete upon the way A faithlesse Sarazin, all armde to point. In whose great shield was wTit with letters gay Sans foy ; full large of limbe and every ioint He was, and cared not for God or man a poiut Hee had a faire companion of his way, A goodly Lady clad in scarlet red, Purfled with gold and pearle of rich assay ; And like a Persian mitre on her bed Sliee wore, with crowns and owches garnished, The which her lavish lovers to her gave : Her wanton palfrey all was overspred With tinsell trappings, woven like a wave. Whose bridle rung with golden bels and bosses bravo. With faire disport, and corn-ting dalliaunce. She intertainde her lover all the way : But, when she saw the Knight his speare advauuce, IX. 6. doth make,] Devise. Make, Lat. machittari, to devise. Jun. Church. XI. 1. the person to put on] This ie a Latiniffln i Personam induere. Upton. ■ANTO ir.J THE FAERIE QUEENE. Shoe soone left off her mirth and wanton play, And bad her Knight addresse him to the fray ; lEs foe was nigh at hand. He, prickte with pride, And hope to winne his Ladies hearts that day, i'ortli spnrred fast ; adowne his coursers side The red bloud trioldiug staind the way, as he did ride. XV. The Knight of tlie Redcrosse, when him be sj^ide Spurring so bote with rage dispiteous, Gan fairely couch his speare, and towards ride : Soone meete they both, both fell and fiunous, That, daunted with their forces hideous, Their steeds doe stagger, and amazed stand ; And eke themselves, too rudely rigorous, Astonied with the strolce of their owne hand. Doe backe rebutte, and each to other yealdeth iaaid. As when two rams, stird with ambitious pride. Fight for the rule of the rich-fleeced flocke. Their horned fi'onts so fierce on either side Doe meete, that, with the terror of the shocke Astonied, both stand sencelesse as a blocke, Forgetfull of the hanging victory : So stood these twaine, laimoved as a rocke, Both staring fierce, and holding idely The broken rehijues of their former cruelty. The Sarazin, sore daunted with the buffe, Snatcheth his sword, and fiercely to liim flies ; 'Wlio weU it wards, and quyteth cuff with cuff : Each others equaU puissaunce envies, And through their iron sides with cruell spies Does seeke to perce ; repining courage yields No foote to foe : the flashing fier flies. As from a forge, out of their burning shields : 4.nd sti'eams of pui^le bloud new die the verdant fields. xvifr. " Curse on that Crosse," quoth then the Sarazii^, " That keeps thy body from the bitter fitt ; Dead long ygoe, I wote, thou haddest bin. Had not that charme from thee forwarned itt : But yet I warne thee now assured sitt, And hide thy head." Therewith upon his crest With rigor so outrageous he smitt, That a large share it hewd out of the rest. And glauncing downe his shield from blame him fairly blest. XIX. Wlio, thereat wondrous wToth, the sleeping spark Of native vertue gan eftsoones revive ; And, at his haughty helmet maidng mark. So hugely stroke, that it the Steele did rive. And cleft his head : He, tumbling downe alive, XVII. 5. And t'trough their iron sides with cruell spies Does see/ce to perce ;] The meaning is, each envies tlie other's equal valour, and each does seek with cruell eyeBt I sortitus /ortunam oculiSt) to pierce through the other's sides, which are armed with iron, Upton. xvrir. y, a large share it Itewd'] The substantive share is here used in the sense of tlie Saxon verb share, to cut or divide. Todd. xv;ii 9. from hlame him fairly blest.] That is, Bcquitte4 him of having given but an indilTerent blow. Chitrch. With bloudy mouth his mother earth did kis, Greeting his grave : his grudging ghost did sti'ivt With the fraile flesh ; at last it flitted is. Whether the soules doe fly of men, that live amis. The Lady, when she saw her champion fall, Lilie the old ruines of a broken towre. Staid not to waile his woeful! funeral] ; But from him fled away with aU her powre : Who after her as hastily gan scowre. Bidding the Dwarfe with him to bring away The Sarazins shield, signe of the conquerom-e : Her soone he overtooke, and bad to stay ; For present cause was none of dread her to dismay Shoe tmiiing backe, with i-uefuU countenaunce, Cride, " Mercy, mercy. Sir, vouchsafe to show On silly Dame, subicct to hard mischaunce. And to yom- mighty will." Her humblesse low In so riteh weedes, and seeming glorious show. Did much emmove his stout heroicke heart ; And said, "Deare dame, your suddein overthrow Much ruetli me ; but now put feare apart. And tel, both who ye be, and who that tooke youi part." XXII. Meltmg in teares, then gan shee thus lament ; " The wretched woman, whom unhappy lioAvre Hath now made thrall to your coramandement. Before that angry heavens lift to lowre. And fortune false betraide me to your powre, AVas, (0 what now availeth that I was ! ) Borne the sole daughter of an emperour ; He that the wide west under his rule has. And high hath set his throne where Tiberia dotl pas. XXIII. " He, in the first flowTe of my freshest age. Betrothed me unto the onely haire Of a most mighty king, most rich and sage ; Was never prince so faithful! and so faire. Was never prince so meeke and debonaiPe ! But, ere my hoped day of spousall shone. My dearest lord fell from high honors stau'e Into the hands qf hys accm^sed fone. And cruelly was slaine ; that shall I ever mone ! " His blessed body, spoild of lively breath. Was afterward, I know not how, convaid. And fro me hid ; of whose most innocent death When tidings came to mee unhappy maid, O, how great sorrow my sad soule assaid ! Then forth I went his woefuU corse to find. And many yeares throughout the world I straid; A virgin widow ; whose deepe-wounded mind With love long time did languish, as the strikcii hind. XXV. " At last it chaunced this proud Sarazin To meete me wandrmg ; who perforce me led With him away j but yet could never win XXII. 2. whom unhappy howre] Misfortune. Fr. malheur. Church. XXIII 5, so meeke and debonaire!] Gracious, kind. Fr. The acfustomed epithet of gallant knights. Todd. 16 THE FAERIE QUEENE. [BOtK 1. Tlie fort, that ladies hold m soveraigne dread. There lies he now viith foule dishonor dead, Who, whiles he livde, was called proud Sausfoy, The eldest of three bretliren ; all three bred Of one bad sire, whose youngest is Sansioy ; And twixt them both was bom the bloudy bold Sansioy. xxvr. " In this sad plight, friendlesse, unfortunate. Now miserable I Fidessa dwell. Craving of you, in pitty of my state, To doe none ill, if please ye not doe well." He in great passion all this while did dwell. More busying his quieke eies, her face to view, Then his dull eares, to heare what shee did tell ; And said, " Faire lady, hart of flint would rew Tile undeserved woes and sorrowes, which ye shew. " Henceforth in safe assuraunce may ye rest. Having both found a new friend you to aid, And lost an old foe that did you molest : Better new friend then an old foe is said." With chaunge of ehear the seeming-simple maid Let fal her eien, as shamefast, to the earth. And yeelding soft, in that she nought gainsaid. So forth they rode, he feining seemely merth. And shee coy lookes : so dainty, they say, maketh derth. xxvrrr. Long time they thus together travelled ; Til, weary of their way, they came at last Where grew two goodly trees, that faire did spred Then- armes abroad, with gray mosse overcast ; And their greene leaves, trembling with every blast. Made a calme shadowe far in compasse round : The fearefull shepheard, often there aghast. Under them never sat, ne wont there sound His mery oaten pipe ; but shund th' unlucky ground. But this good Knight, soone as he them can spie, For the coole shade him thither liastly got : For golden Phoebus, now ymounted hie. From fiery wheeles of his faire chariot Hurled his beame so scorching cruell hot, That living creature mote it not abide ; And his new Lady it endured not. There they aUght, in hope themselves to hide From the fierce heat, and rest their weary limbs a tide. XXK. Faire-seemely pleasaunce each to other makes, With goodly purposes, there as they sit ; And in his falsed fancy he her takes To be the fairest wight, that lived yit ; Which to expresse, he bends his gentle wit ; xxvt. 5. He in great passion] Passion is frequently used by Spenser for any commotion of the mind. Here it signifies not the irasclblet but the softer passion of pity. Church. xxvTi. 9. so dainfy. they say, maketh derth.^ Proverb : " Quie rara, chara." Upton. XXX. 2. JVilh goodly purposes,] Discourses. Fr. pro- pos. Spenser frequently uses purpose for conversation. Church. ■Kxx. 3. And in his falsed fancy he her takes'] " Nella • fantasia falsdta." Upton. And, thinking of those bramiches greene to A girlond for her dainty forehead fit, [franie He pluckt a bough ; out of whose rifte there came Smal drops of gory bloud, that trickled do'\Tn tic Tlieremth a piteous yelhng voice was heai-d. Crying, " O spare with guilty hands to teare My tender sides in this rough rynd embard ; But fly, ah ! fly far hence away, for feare Least to you hap, that happened to me heare, And to this wretched Lady, my deare love ; too deare love, love bought with death too deare 1" Astond he stood, and up his heare did hove ; And with that suddem horror could no member move. xxxir. At last whenas the dreadfull passion Was overpast, and manhood well awake ; Yet musing at the straunge occasion. And doubting much his sence, he thus bespate ! " What voice of damned ghost from Limbo lalie, Or guilefuU spright wandring in empty aire, (Both which fraUe men doe oftentimes mistake,) Sends to my doubtfiil eares these apeaches rare, And ruefull plaints, me bidding guiltlesse blood to spare ? " xxxiir. Then, groning deep ; " Nor damned ghost," quoth he, " Nor guileful sprite, to thee these words doth But once a man Fradubio, now a tree ; [spealte ; Wretched man, "wretched tree ! whose nature weake A cruel! Witch, her cursed will to \\ reake, Hath thus transformd, and plast in open plaines, Where Boreas doth blow full bitter bleake. And scorching sunne does dry my secret vaines ; For though a tree I seeme, yet cold and heat me paines." XXX rv. " Say on, Fradubio, then, or man or tree," Quoth then the Knight ; " by whose mischievous Art thou mishaped thus, as now I see ? [arls He oft finds med'cine who his griefe impaiia ; But double griefs afflict concealing harts ; As raging flames who striveth to suppresse," " The author then," said he, " of all my smarts, Is one Duessa, a false sorceresse. That many errant Knights hath broght to wretclied- •' In prime of youthly yeares, when corage hott The fire of love and ioy of chevah'ee Fu'st kindled in my brest, it was my lott To love this gentle Lady, whome ye see Now not a Lady, but a seeming tree ; With whome as once I rode accompanyde, Me chaunced of a Knight encountred bee, That had a hke fau-e Lady by his syde ; Lyke a faire Lady, but did fowle Duessa liyde ; XXXVT. " Whose forged beauty he did take in hand All other Dames to have exceded fan-e ; I in defence of mine did likewise stand. Mine, that did then shine as the morning starre. So both to batteill fierce arraun^ed arre ; CANTO HI.] THE FAERIE Q,uEj!,JNE. 17 In which his liarder fortune was to fall Under ray speare ; such is the dye of wai're. His Lady, left as a prise martiall. Did yield her comely person to be at my call , XXXVIt. " So doubly lov'd of Ladies luihke faire, Th' one seeming such, the other such indeede. One day in doubt 1 cast for to compare Whether in beauties glorie did exceeds ; A rosy girlond was the victors meede. Both seemde to win, and both seemde won to So hard the discord was to be agreede. [bee ; Frcehssa was as faii*e, as faire mote bee. And ever false Duessa seemde as faire as shee. xxxvrrr. " The wicked Witch, now seeing all this while The doubtful! ballaunce equally to sway. What not by right, she east to win by guile ; And, by her hellish science, raisd streight way A foggy mist that overcast the day, And a dull blast that breathing on her face Dimmed her former beauties shining ray, And with foule ugly forme did her disgrace : Then was she fayre alone, when none was faire iu place. xxxtx. " Then cride she out, ' Fye, fye, deformed mght, ' Whose borrowed beautie now appeareth plaine ■ To have before bewitched aU mens sight : ' leave her soone, or let her soone be slaine V Her loathly visage viewing with disdaine, Eftsoones I thought her such as she me told, And would have kild her ; but with faigned paine The false Witch did my wrathfull hand withhold : So left her, where she now is turnd to treen mould. " Thensforth I tooke Duessa for my Dame, And in the Witch unweeting ioyd long time ; Ne ever mst, but that she was the same : Till on a day (that day is everie Prime, When witches wont do penance for their crime,) I chaunst to see her in her proper hew. Bathing her selfe in origane and thyme : A filthy foule old woman I did vew, That ever to have touoht her I did deadly rew. " Her neather partes misshapen, monstruoug. Were hidd in water, that I could not see ; But they did seeme more foule and hideous, Then womans shape man would beleeve to bee. Thensforth from her most beastly companie I gan refraine, in mmde to shpp away, Soone as appeard safe opportunitie : For danger great, if not assm-d decay, I saw before mine eyes, if I were knoivne to stray. xLrl. " The divelish hag, by chaunges of my cheare, Pereeiv'd my thought ; and, drownd in sleepie night, XL. 4 that day is everie Prime, ] Morning ; con- stantly so used by Spenser. The sense hene is, " Till one morning, &.C." Church. XL. 7- BatMnq herselfe in origane and ifiyme :] " Orga- nie healeth scabs, itchings, and scuruinesse, being vsed in bathes." Qerarde's Herbatl. Thpnuis deemed of similiir virtue with organie^ in Langham's Garden o/IIcalih. Todd. With wicked herbes and oyntmcnts did besmeare My body, all through charmes and magicke might. That all my senses were bereaved quight : Then brought she me into this desert waste. And by my wretched lovers side me pight ; Where now enclosd in wooden wals full faste, Banisht from Hving wights, our wearie dales we waste." XLtjr. " But how long time,'' said then the Elfin Knight, " Are you in this misformed hous to dwell X " " We may not chaunge," quoth he, " this evill plight, Till we be bathed in a living Well : That is the terme prescribed by the spelL" " how," sayd he, " mote I that Well out find, That may restore you to your wonted well ? " " Time and suffised fates to former kyiid Shall us restore ; none else from hence may us unbynd." xLrv. The false Duessa, now Fidessa bight. Heard how in vaine Fradubio did kiment. And knew well all was true. But the gooc' Knight, Full of sad feare and ghastly dreriment. When all this speech the hving tree had spent, The bleeding bough did thrust into the groimd. That from the blood he might be innocent. And with fresh clay did close the wooden wound : Then turning to his Lady, dead with feare her fownd, XLV. Her seeming dead he fownd with feigned feare. As all unweeting of that well she knew ; And paynd liimselfe with busie care to reare Her out of carelesse swowne. Her eyelids blew. And dimmed sight with pale and deadly hew, At last she up gan lift ; with trembling cheare Her up he tooke, (too simple and too trew,) And oft her kist. At length, all passed feare. He set her on her steede, and forward forth did beare. CANTO III. Forsalten Trnth Ions seeTcra her Love, And makes the lyon iriylde; Marres blind Devotions mart, and fals l3 hand of leachour vylde. Nought is there imder heav'ns wide hollownesse. That moves more deare compassion of mind. Then beautie brought t'unworthie wretchednesse Thi-ough envies snares, or fortunes freakcs unkind. I, whether lately through her brightnes blynd. Or through alleageance, and fast fealty. Which I do owe unto all womankynd, Feele my hart perst with so great agony. When such I see, that all for pitty I could dy. lt.\n.1 to yourvonted well?] Toyourforrlf well being, that is, to your human shape. Church. xLUhS. to former kynd] Our former human nature. Spenser perpetually uses kind for nature, and kindly for natural; as also unkindly for unnatural. Church. 18 THE FAEIUE y,UEENE. Leook I, And now it is empassioned so deepe, For fairest Unaes sake, of whom I sing, That my frayle eies these lines with teares do To tliinke how she through guyleful handeling, Though true as touch, though daughter of a king, Though fadre as ever hvmg wiglit was fayre, Though nor in word nor deede ill meriting. Is from her Knight divorced in despayre, And her dew loves deryv'd to that vile Witches shayre. IIT. Yet she, most faithful! Ladie, all this while Forsaken, wofuU, solitarie mayd. Far from all peoples preace, as in exile. In wildernesse and wastfull deserts stray d. To seeke her Knight ; who, subtily betrayd Tlu ough that late vision which th' Enchaunter wrought, Had her abandond : She, of nought affrayd, Through woods and wastnes wide him daily sought ; Vet wished tydinges none of him unto her brought. One day, nigh wearie of the yrkesome way, From her unhastie beast she did alight ; And on the grasse her dainty limbs did lay In secrete shadow, far from all mens sight ; From her fayre head her fillet she undight. And layd her stole aside : Her angels face. As the great eye of heaven, shyned bright. And made a sunshine m the shady place ; Did never mortal] eye behold such heavenly grace. V. It fortimed, out of the thickest wood A ramping lyon rushed suddeinly. Hunting full greedy after salvage blood : Soone as the royall Virgin he did spy. With gaping mouth at her ran greedily. To have attonce devourd her tender corse : But to the pray when as he drew more ny. His bloody rage aswaged with remorse. And, with the sight amazd, forgat his fuiioisis forse. vr. Instead thereof he last her wearie feet, And liekt her lilly hands with fawning tong ; As he her wronged innocence did weet. how can beautie maister the most strong, And simple truth subdue avenging wrong ! Whose yielded pryde and proud submission, Still dreading death, when she had marked long. Her hart gan melt in great compassion ; And drizhug teares did shed for pure afi'ection. vrr. " The lyon, lord of everie beast in field," Quoth she, " his princely puissance doth abate, Andmightie proud to humble weake does yield, Forgetfull of the hungry rage, which late Him prickt, in pittie of ray sad estate : — But he, my lyon, and my noble lord, How does he find in emell hart to hate Her, that him lov'd, and ever most adord As the god of my hfe ? why hath he me abhord ?" ni. 3. Far from all peoples preace,] Press or crowd. Toiiv. Redounding teares did choke th' end of her plaint, Which softly ecchoed from the neighbour wood ; And, sad to see her sorrowfull constraint, The kingly beast upon her gazing stood ; With pittie calmd, downe fell liis angry mood. At last, in close hart shutting up her payne, Arose the Virgin borne of heavenly brood, And to her snowy palfrey got agayne, To seeke her strayed Champion if she might attajme. IX. The lyon would not leave her desolate, But with her went along, as a strong gard Of her chast person, and a faythfull mate Of her sad troubles and misfortunes hard : Still, when she slept, he kept both watch and ward ; And, when she wakt, he waytcd dihgent, With humble service to her will prepard : From her fayre eyes he took commandeme And ever by her lookes conceived her intent. Long she thus travelled through deserts wyde. By which she thought her wandriug Knigh shold pas. Yet never shew of living \vight espyde ; TiU that at length she found the trodeu gi'as, In which the tract of peoples footing was. Under the steepe foot of a mountaine hore : The same she foUowes, till at last she has A damzel spyde slow-footing her before, That on her shoulders sad a pot of water bore. To whom approching she to her gan call, To weet, if dwelling place were nigh at hand ; But the rude wench her answerd nought at all ; She could notheare, nor speake, nor understand ; Till, seeing by her side the lyon stand. With suddein feare her pitcher downe she threw, And fled away : for never in that land Face oi fayre lady she before did vew. And that dredd lyons looke her cast in deadly hew. Xtf. Full fast she fled, ne ever lookt behynd, As if her hfe upon the wager lay ; And home she came, whereas her mother blynd Sate in eternall night ; nought could she say ; But, suddeine catching hold, did her dismay With quaking hands, and other signes of feare : Who, full of ghastly fright and cold affray, G4n shut the dore. By this arrived there Dame Una, weary Dame, and entrance did requere : xni. Which when none yielded, her mrnily page With his rude elawes the wicket open rent, And let her in ; where, of his cruell rage Nigh dead with feare, and faint astonishment, Shee foimd them both ui darksome comer pent : Where that old woman day and night did pray Upon her beads, devoutly penitent : Nine hundred Pater nosters every day. And thrise nine hundred Avcs she was wont to say. xrv. And, to augment her painefull penaunce more, Thrise every weeke in ashes slice did sitt, CANTO HI. J THE FAERIE CiUEEiNE. Aiid next her wriukled skin rough sackecloth wore. And thrise-three times did fast from any bitt : But now for feare her beads she did forgett. Whose needlesse dread for to remove away, Faire Una framed words and count'naunee fitt : Which hardly doen, at length she gan them pray. That in their cotage small that niglit she rest her may. XV. Tlie day is spent ; and eonimeth drowsie night. When every creature slu-owded is in sleepe : Sad Una downe her laies in weary plight. And at her feete the lyon watch doth keepe : In stead of rest, she does lament, and weepe. For the late losse of her deare-loved Knight, And sighes, and grones, and evermore does steepe Her tender brest in bitter teares all night ; All night she tliuiks too long, and often lookes for Ught. xvr. Now when Aldeboran was mounted hye Above the shinie Cassiopeias chaire. And all in deadly sleepe did drowned lye, One knocked at the dore, and in would fare ; He knocked fast, and oft^n curst, and sware, That ready entraunce was not at his call ; For on Ins baeke a heavy load he bare Of nightly stelths, and pillage severall. Which he had got abroad by purchas criminall. He was, to weete, a stout and sturdy thiefe. Wont t« robbe churches of tlieir ornaments, And poore mens boxes of their due reliefe, Which given was to them for good intents ; The holy saints of their rich vestinients He did disrobe, when all men carelesse slept ; And spoild the priests of their habiliments ; Whiles none the holy things in safety kept, Then he by conning sleights in at the window crept. XVII r. And all, that he by right or ^vi-oug could find, Unto this house he brought, and did bestow Upon the daughter of this woman blind, Abessa, daughter of Corceca slow. With whom he whoredome usd that few did luiow. And fed her fatt with feast of offei-ings. And plenty, which in aU the land did grow ; Ne spared he to give her gold and rings : And now he to her brought part othis stolen t]iu:gs. Thus, long the dore with rage and threats he bett ; Yet of those fearfuU women none durst rize, (The lyon frayed them,) him in to lett ; He would no lenger stay him to advize. But open breakes the dore in furious wize. And entring is ; when that disdainfiiU bs'ast, Encountring fierce, him suddein dnth surprize ; And, seizing cruell clawes on trembling brest. Under his lordly foot him proudly hath supprest. xvr, J). &2/ purchas criwjifto?;.] Robberies. Upton, Xix. R. And, seizing] Fixing, Church. Him booteth not resist, nor succour call, His bleeding hart is in the vengers hand; Who streight him rent in thousand peeccs small, And quite dismembred hath: the thirsty laud Dronke up his life ; kis corse left on the strand. His fearefull freends weare out the wofull night, Ne dare to weepe, nor seeme to understand The heavie hap, which on them is alight ; Affraid, least to themselves the hke mishappen might. xxr. Now when broad day the world discovered has. Up Una rose, up rose the lyon eke ; And on their former iom-ney forward pas. In waies unlmowne, her wandriug Knight to seeke. With paines far passing that long-vvandriiig That for his love I'efused deitye : [Gi-eeke, Such were the labours of this Lady meeke. Still seeking him, that from her still did flye ; Then furthest from her hope, when most she weened nye. XXII. Soone as she parted thence, the fearfull twayne. That bhnd old woman, and her daughter deai-. Came forth; and, finding Kii'krapine there slayne. For anguish great they gan to rend their lieare. And beat their brests, and naked flesh to teare : And when they both had wept and way Id then- fill. Then forth they ran, like two amazed deare, Halfe mad through malice and revenging \n\\j To follow her, that was the causer of their ill : Whome overtaking, they gan loudly bray. With hollow houling, and lamenting cry ; Shamefully at her rayling all the way. And her accusing of dishonesty. That was the flowre of faith and chastity : And still, amidst her rayling, she did pray That plagues, and mischiefes, and long misery. Might fall on her, and follow all the way; And that in endlesse error she might ever stray. XXIV. But, when she saw her prayers nought prevaile, Shee backe retoumed with some labour lost; And in the way, as shee did weepe and waile, A Knight her mett in mighty armes embost, Yet Knight was not for all his bragging host ; But subtiU Archimag, that Una sought By traynes into new troubles to have teste: Of that old woman tidings he besought. If that of such a Lady shee could tellen ought. Therewith she gan her passion to renew. And cry, and curse, and raile, and rend her heare. Saying, that harlott she too lately knew. That causd her shed so many a bitter teare ; And so forth told the story of her feare. Much seemed he to mone her haplesse chaunce, And after for that Lady did inquere ; XX. 2. His bleeding hart is in the veytgers Iiand;] i. e. His bleeding heart is in the pawes of the lion, which revenged her cause. Upton. XXI. 6. that long-wandring ereeke,'] Ulysses. Upton. c 2 20 THE FAERIE QUEENE. [BOOK 1, Which being taught, he forward gan advaunee His fair enchaunted steed, and eke his charmed launce. Ere long he came where Una traveild slow, And (hat wilde champion wayting her besyde; Whome seeing such, for dread hee durst not show Him selfe too nigh at hand, but turned wyde Unto an hil; from whence when she him spyde. By his like-seeming shield her Knight by name Shee weend it was, and towards him gan ride : Approaching nigli she wist it was the same ; And with faire fearefull humblesse towards him shee came : XXVIT, And weeping said, " Ah my long-lacked lord. Where have ye bene thus long out of my sight ? Much feared I to have bene quite abliord. Or ought have done, that ye displeasen might ; That should as death unto my deare heart light: For since mine eie your ioyous sight did mis, My chearefull day is turnd to chearelesse night. And eke my night of death the shadow is: But welcome now, my light, and shining lampe of blis!" He thereto meeting said, " My dearest dame. Far be it from your thought, and fro my wil. To thinke that knighthood I so much should As you to leave that have me loved stil, [shame. And chose in Faery court, of meere goodwil. Where noblest Knights were to be found on earth. The earth shaU sooner leave her kindly ski. To bring forth fruit, and make eternal derth. Then I leave you, my hefe, yborn of hevenly berth. xxrx. " And sooth to say, why I lefte you so long, Was for to seeke adventure in straunge place ; Where, Archimago said, a felon strong To many Knights did daily worke disgrace ; But Knight he now shall never more deface : Good cause of mine excuse that mote ye please Well to accept, and evermore embrace My faithfull service, that by land and seas Have vowd you to defend : now tlien yom' plamt His lovely words her seemd due recompence Of all her passed paines: one loving howi-e For many yeares of sorrow can diypence; A dram of sweete is worth a pound of sowre. Shee has forgott how many a woeful stowre For him she late endurd; she speakes no more Of past: true is, that true love hath no powre To looken backe; his eies be fixt before. Before her stands her Kniglit, for whom she toyld Much like, as when the beaten marinere. That long hath wandred in the ocean wide, Ofte soust in sweUing Tethys saltish teare ; XXVI. 9. ■ humblesse] Humility/. Humblesse, Fr. Spenser also thus uses nimblesse for nimbleness, Todd. XXX. 5. a woe/ul' stowre] Danger, or misfortune. The word is oftener used by our poet and others for Jight K battle. Todd. And long time having tand his tawnty hide [bide, With blustring breath of heaven, that none can And scorching flames of fierce Orions hound; Soone as the port from far he has espide, His chearfuU whistle merily doth sound, And Nereus crownes with cups; his mates him pledg around. XXXIT. Such ioy made Una, when her Knight she found; And eke th' Enchaimter ioyous seemde no lease Then the glad marchant, that does vew from ground His ship far come from watrie wildernesse; He hurles out vowes, and Neptune oft dothblesse. So forth they pastj and all the way they spent Discoursing of her dreadful late distresse. In which he askt her, what the lyon ment; Who told, her all that fell in ioumey, as she went. They had not ridden far, when they might see One pricking towards them with hastie heat, FuU strongly armd, and on a courser free That through his fiersnesse fomed all with sweat. And the sharpe yron did for anger eat, When his hot ryder spurd his chauffed side ; His looke was sterne, and seemed still to threat Cruell revenge, which he in hart did hyde : And on his shield Sans Ioy in bloody lines was dyde. XXXIV. When nigh he drew unto tliis gentle payre, [beare, And saw the red erosse, which the Knight did He burnt in fire ; and gan eftsoones prepare Himselfe to batteill with his couched speare. Loth was that other, and did faint through feare, To taste th' untryed dint of deadly Steele : But yet his Lady did so well him cheare. That hope of new good hap he gan to feele ; So bent his speare, and spm-d his horse vrith yron heele. XXXV. But that proud Paynim forward came so ferce And full of wrath, that, with his sharp-head speare, [perce ; Through vainly crossed shield he quite dd And, had his staggering steed not shronke for feare, [beare : Through shield and body eke he should him Yet, so great was the puissance of his push. That from his sadle quite he did him beare : He tombling rudely dovme to ground did rush, And from his gored wound a well of bloud did gush. xxxvr. Dismounting lightly from his loftie steed, Ue to him lept, in minde to reave his life, And proudly said ; " Lo, there the worthie meed Of him, that slew Sansfoy with bloody knife : Henceforth his ghost, freed from repining strife, In peace may passen over Lethe lake ; When mourning altars, purgd with enimies life, The black infernall Furies doen aslake : Life from Sansfoy thou tookst, Sansloy sliall from thee take." xxxT. 6. OriorCs hound il Sirius, or t\ni Dog'Slar; 80 called by Homer. Jortin. XXXIV. 9. So bent his speare,] Levelled, or, in tlifl language of chivalry, couched his spear. Todd, CANTO IV.T THE FAERIE QUEENE. 21 Therewith m haste his helmet gau unlace. Till Una cride, " hold that heavie hand, Dear Sir, what ever that thou be in place : Enough is, that thy foe doth vanquisht stand Now at thy mercy ; mercy not witlistand ; For he is one tlie tniest Knight aUve, Though conquered now he lye on lowly land ; And, whilest him fortmie favom-d, fayre did thrive In bloudy field ; therefore of life him not deprive." xxxv;il. Her piteous wordes might not abate his rage ; But, rudely rending up his helmet, would Have slayne him streight : but when he sees his And hoarie head of Archimago old, [age. His hasty hand he doth amased hold. And, halfe ashamed, woudred at the sight : For that old man well knew he, though untold. In charmes and magick to have wondi-ous might ; Ne ever wont m field, ne in round lists, to fight : And said, " Wliy Archunago, lucklesse syre, What doe I see ? what hard mishap is this, That hath thee hether brought to taste mine yre? Or thine the fault, or mine tlie error is, Instead of foe to wound my friend amis ! " He answered nought, but in a traimce still lay. And on those guilefull dazed eyes of his The cloude of death did sit ; which doen away. He left him lying so, ne would no lenger stay : But to the Virgin comes ; who aU this while Amased stands, herselfe so mockt to see By him, who has the guerdon of his guile. For so misfeignmg her true Knight to bee : Yet is she now in more perplexitie. Left in the hand of that same Paynim bold. From whom her booteth not at all to flie : Who, by her cleanly gai-ment catching hold. Her from her palfrey pluckt, her visage to behold. xLr. But her fiers servant, full of kingly aw And liigh disdaine, whenas his soveraine Dame So mdely handled by her foe he saw, With gaping iawes full greedy at him came. And, ramping on his shield, did weene the same Have reft away with his sharp rending clawes : Bnt he was stout, and lust did now inflame His corage more, that from his griping pawes He hath his shield redeemd ; and forth his sweri he drawes. XLTf. then, too weake and feeble was the forse Of salvage beast, his puissance to withstand ! For he was strong, and of so mightie corse. As ever wielded speare in warlike hand ; And feates of armes did wisely understand. Eftsoones he perced through his chaufed chest With thrilling point of deadly yron brand. And laimcht his lordly hart : ivith death opprest He ror'd aloud, whiles life forsooke liis stubborne brest. XLIIT. Wlio now is left to keepe the f6rlome Maid From raging spoile of lawlesse victors will ? Her faithfuU gard remov'd ; her hope dismaid ; Her selfe a yielded pray to save or spill ! He now, lord of the field, his pride to fill. With fouie reproches and disdaineful spight Her vildly entertaines ; and, will or nill, Beares her away upon his com-ser light : Her prayers nought prevaile ; his rage is more of might. XLIV. And all the way, with great lamenting paine. And piteous plaintes, she fiUeth liis dull eares. That stony hart could riven have in twaine ; And all the way she wetis with flowing teares ; But he, enrag'd with rancor, nothing heares. Her servile beast yet would not leave her so, But follows her far ofi", ne ought he feares To be partaker of her waudi'ing woe. More mild in beastly kind, then that her beastly foe. XXXVII, 4. Enough is, that thy foe doth vanquisht Btand] To stand (as ct^Ivxi and stare) signifies to con- tiniu, lo remain, to be, &c. vritliout any reference to tlie posture. Upton. xxxvifi. 9. ^e ever wont in field, ne in round lists, to fight ;] In Jield, in open battle : in round lists, in lists encompassed all around. Gall, champ clos. VtTos. CANTO IV. To Binrull Houa of Pryde Dueas- ft guydea the faithfull Knii;ht; Where, brothers death to wreak, SanBloy Doth chalen^ him to fight. r. Young Knight whatever, that dost armes professe. And through long labours huntest after fame, Beware of fraud, beware of ficldenesse, In choice, and channge, of thy deare-loved dame ; Least thou of lier believe too lightly blame. And rash misweening doe thy hart remove : For unto Knight there is no greater shame, Then lightnesse and inconstancie in love : That doth this Redcrosse Knights ensample plainly prove. II. Who, after that he had faire Una lome. Through light misdeeming of her loialtie ; And false I)uessa in her sted had borne, Call'd Fidess', and so supposd to be ; Long with her traveild ; till at last they see A goodly building, bravely garnished ; The house of mightie prince it seemd to be ; And towards it a broad high way that led, AU bare through peoples feet, which thether travelled. Ill, Great troupes of people traveild thetherward Both day and night, of each degree and place ; But few returned, having scaped hard. With baleful! beggery, or foule disgi-ace ; Which ever after in most wretched case. Like loathsome lazars, by the hedges lay. Thether Duessa badd him bend his pace ; For she is wearie of the toilsom way ; And also nigli consumed is the lingring day. XLii. 7. yron brand,] Sword. Toon. XLIII. 7- will or nitt,] Nolens volens. NiU, will not J contracted from ne will. Upton. ?2 THE FAERIE QUEENE. [nooK I. A stately pallace built of squared bricke. Which cunnuigly was without morter laid, Whose wals were high, but nothing strong nor thick. And golden foile all over tliem displaid, That purest skye with brightnesse they dismaid : High lifted up wei'e many loftie towres, And goodly galleries far over laid. Full of faire windowes and delightful bowres ; And on the top a diall told the timely liowres. It was a goodly heaps for to behould, And spake the praises of the workmans witt : But full great pittie, that so faire a mould Did on so weake foundation ever sitt : For on a sandie hill, that still did flitt And fall away, it mounted was full hie : That every breath of heaven shaked itt : And all the hinder partes, that few could spie. Were ruinous and old, but painted cunningly. Arrived there, they passed in forth right ; For still to all the gates stood open wide : Yet charge of them was to a porter liight, Cald Malvenli, who entrance none denide : Thence to the hall, which was on every side With rich array and costly arras dight : Infinite sortes of people did abide There waiting long, to win the wished sight Of her, that was the Lady of that paUace bright vn. By them they passe, all gazing on them round. And to the Presence mount ; whose glorijus vew Their frayle amazed senses did confoimd. In living princes court none ever knew Such endlesse richesse, and so sumpteous shew ; Ne Persia selfe, the nourse of pompous pride, Like ever saw : And there a noble crew Of Lords and Ladies stood on every side. Which, with their presence fayre, the place much beautifide, vriT. High above all a cloth of state was spred. And a rich throne, as bright as sunny day ; On which there sate, most brave embellished With royall robes and gorgeous array, A mayden Queene that shone, as Titans ray. In glistring gold and perelesse pretious stone ; Yet her bright blazing beautie did assay To dim the brightnesse of her glorious throne. As envying her selfe, that too exceeding shone : Exceeding shone, like Phoebus fayrest childe, That did presume his fathers fyrie wayne. And flaming mouthes of steedes unwonted wilde. Through highest heaven with weaker hand to rayne ; Proud of such glory and advancement vayne. While flashing beames do daze his feeble eyen, vr. 3, hight] Right and hehight may be found in Chaucer as signifying to promise. Possibly from this usage of the word, Spenser, with a little latitude, here applied the sense of entrufted to it. TnoD. He leaves the welkin way most beaten playne. And, rapt with whirUng wheeles, inflames tlie skyeu With fire not made to bume, but fayrely for to shyne. X. So proud she shyned in her princely state. Looking to heaven ; for earth she did disdayne i And 'sitting high ; for lowly she did hate : Lo, underneath her scornefull feete was layne A dreadfuU Dragon with an hideous trayne ; And in her hand she held a mirrhour bright, Wherein her face she often vewed fayne. And in her selfe-lov'd semblance took delight ; For she was wondrous faire, as any living wight. Of gi'iesly Pluto she the daughter was. And sad Proserpina, the queene of hell ; Yet did she thinke her pearelesse worth to pas That parentage, with pride so did she swell ; 4.nd thimdring love, that high in heaven dotb dwell And wield the world, she claymed for her syre ; Or if that any else did love excell ; For to the highest she did still aspyre ; Or, if ought higher were then that, did it desyi-e. xir. And proud Lucifera men did her call. That made her selfe a Queene, and crownd to be ; Yet rightfuU kingdome she had none at all, Ne heritage of native soveraintie ; But did usui'pe with wrong and tyrannie Upon the scepter, which she now did hold : Ne ruld her realme with lawes, but pollicie. And strong advizement of six Wisards old, That with their coimsels bad her kingdome did up- hold. xrii. Soone as the Elfin Knight in presence came. And false Duessa, seeming Lady fayre, A gentle husher, Yanitie by name. Made rowme, and passage for them did pre. paire : So goodly brought them to the lowest stajTe Of her high throne ; where they, on humble knee Making obeysaunce, did the cause declare. Why they were come, her roiall state to see. To prove the wide report of her great niaiestee. XIV. With loftie eyes, halfe loth to looke so lowe. She thancked them in her disdainefuU wise ; Ne other grace vouchsafed them to showe Of princesse worthy ; scarse them bad arise. Her Lordes and Ladies all this while devise Themselves to setten forth to straungers sight: Some frounce their curled heare in courtly ffiwe; Some prancke their ruffes ; and others trimly dight Their gay attyre : each othera greater pride does spight. XV. Goodly they all that Knight doe entertaj-ne. Right glad with him to have increast their crew; But to Duess' each one himselfe did paj-ne AH kindnesse and fair courtesie to shew ; /;anto it.] THE FAERIE QUEENE. 93 For in that court whylome her well they knew: Yet the stout Faery mongst the midciest crowd Thought all their gloria vaine in knightly vew. And that great Princesse too exceeding prowd. That to strange Knight no better countenance allowd. XVI. Suddein upriseth from her stately place The roiall Dame, and for her coche doth call : All hurtlen forth; and she, witli princely pace, As faire Aurora, in her purple pall. Out of the east the dawning day doth call, [blaze. So forth she comes; her brightnes brode doth The heapes of people, tlironging in the hall, Poe ride each other, upon her to gaze: Her glorious glitter and light doth all mens eies amaze. xvir. So forth she comes, and to her coche does clyme. Adorned all with gold and girlonds gay, That seemd as fresh as Flora in her prime; And strove to match, in roiall rich array. Great lunoes golden chayre ; the which, they say. The gods stand gazing on, ^vhen she does ride To loves high hous through heavens bras-paved way, Drawne of fayre pecocks, that excell in pride. And full of Argus eyes their tayles dispredden wide. xvril. But this was drawne of six unequall beasts, On which her six sage counselloiu-s did ryde, Taught to obay their bestiall beheasts. With hke conditions to their kindes applyde: Of which the first, that all the rest did guyde. Was sluggish Idlenesse, the nourse of sui; Upon a slouthfuU asse he chose to ryde, Arayd in habit blaclie, and amis thin; Like to an holy monck, the service to begin. xrx. And in liis hand his portesse still he bare, That much was worne, but therem little redd; For of devotion he had little care. Still dro\vnd in sleepe, and most of his daies dedd: Scarse could he once uphold his heavie liedd. To looken whether it were night or day. May seeme the wayne was very evil ledd, When such an one had guiding of the way, That knew not, whether right he went or else astray. XX. From worldly cares himselfe he did esloyne, And gi-eatly shunned manly exercise; From everie worke he chalenged essoyne, For contemplation sake: yet otherwise His life he led in lawlesse riotise; XVI. 3. JJZhurtlen/ortt,] All rush forth, push forward. TODIJ. ,., , - xviii. 2. On which her six sage counselloms did ryac,} The moral allegory hints at the Seven deadly Sins, as they are called. The chief of all is Pride. She with her six sage eounsellours make up the number. Uptom. XIX. 1. his portesse] Breviary or prayer-book,- so named from porter OaA hose, because carried about with them in their pockets or hose. Upton. XX. 1. did esloyne,] Withdraw, A Gallicism. Too". „., ■ • xx. 3. he chalenged essoyne,] Excuse. This is a law phrase. Todd. By which he grew to grievous malady: For in his lustlesse limbs, through evill guise, A shaking fever raignd contmually: Such one was Idlenesse, first of this company. And by his side rode loathsome Gluttony, Deformed creature, on a filtliie swyne; His belly was upblowne with luxm-y. And eke with fatnesse swollen were his eyne; And like a crane his necke was long and fyue. With which he swallowed up excessive feast. For want whereof poore people oft did pyne: And all the way, most lilce a brutish beast. He spued up his gorge, tliat all did him deteast. In greeue vine leaves he was right fitly clad; For other clothes he could not wear for heate: And on his head an yvie girland had. From under which fast trickled downe the sweat Still as he rode, he somewhat still did eat. And in his hand did beare a bouzing can. Of which he supt so oft, that on his seat His dronken corse he scarse upholden can : In shape and hfe more like a monster then a man Unfit he was for any wordly thing. And eke unhable once to stirre or go ; Not meet to be of counsell to a king, Whose mind in meat and drinke was drowned so, That from his frend he seeldome knew his fo : Full of diseases was his carcas blew. And a dry dropsie through his flesh did flow. Which by misdiet daily greater grew : Such one was Gluttony, the second of that crew. And next to him rode lustfuU Lechery Upon a bearded gote, whose rugged heare, And whally eies, (the signe of gelosy,) Was like the person selfe, whom he did beare : Who rough, and blaoke, and filthy, did appeare ; Unseemely man to please faire Ladies eye : Yet he of Ladies oft was loved deare. When fairer faces were bid standen by : who does know the bent of womens fantasy ! In a greene gowue he clothed was full faire. Which underneath did hide his filthinesse ; And m his hand a burning hart he bare, Full of vaine follies and new-fanglenesse ; For he was false, and fraught with ficklenesse ; And learned had to love with secret lookes ; And well could daunce ; and giug with rueful- nesse : And fortunes tell ; and read in loving bookes : And thousand other waies, to bait his fleshly hookes. xxvr. Inconstant man, that loved all he saw, And lusted after all, that he did love ; his lustlesse limbs,1 His languid limbs. - long and fyne,] Thin, taper, Fr. f.n. XX. 7. Todd. XXI. 5. Church. XXI 9. his gorge,] Gorge, Fr. the throat. Here it means that which was swallowed. Todd. XXII. 0. a bouzing can,'] A drinking can. Todd. 2i THE FAERIE QUEENE. [BOOK 1, Ne would his looser life be tide to law, But ioyed weake weraens hearts to tempt, and prove. If from their loyall loves he might them move : AVliich lewdnes fild him with reproachfull paui Of that foule evill, which all men reprove. That rotts the marrow, and consmnes the braine : Such one was Lechery, the third of all this traine. XXVII. And greedy Avarice by him did ride. Upon 9 samell loaden all with gold : Two iron coffers hong on either side. With precious metall full as they might hold ; And in his lap an heap of coine he told : For of his wicked pelf his god he made. And unto hell liim selfe for money sold : Acciu-sed usury was all his trade ; And right and ^vrong ylike in equall ballaunce waide. xxvjir. His life was nigh unto deaths dore yplaste ; And thred-bare cote, and cobled shoes, hee ware : Ne scarse good morsell all his life did taste ; But both from backs and belly still did sijare. To fill his bags, and richesse to compare : Yet childe ne kinsman living had he none To leave them to ; but thorough daily care To get, and nightly feare to lose his owne. He led a wretched life, unto himselfe unknowce. Most wi-etched wight, whom nothing might suffise ; Whose greedy lust did lacke in greatest store ; Whose need had end, but no end covetise ; Whose welth was want ; whose plenty made him pore ; Who had enough, yett wished ever more ; A vile disease : and eke in foote and hand A grievous gout tormented him full sore ; That well he could not touch, nor goe, nor stand : Such one was Avarice, the fourth of this faire band ! XXX. And next to him malicious Envy rode Upon a ravenous wolfe, and still did chaw Between his caukred teeth a venomous tode. That all the poison ran about his ciiaw ; But inwardly he chawed his owne maw At neibors welth, that made him ever sad ; For death it was, when any good he saw ; And wept, that cause of weeping none he had ; But, when he heard of harme, he wexed wondrous glad. XXXI. ^11 ill a kirtle of discolourd say He clothed was, ypainted full of eios ; And in his bosome secretly there lay All hatefuU snake, the which his taile uptyes In many folds, and mortall sting implyes : Still as he rode, he gnasht his teeth to see Those heapes of gold with griple Covetyse ; And grudged at the great feiicitee Of proud Lucifera, and his owne companee. xxviil. 5. richesse to compare :] Procure. Lat. Comparare divitias. Jobtin. XXXI. 7. griple Covetyse ;"] i.e. tenacious: it comee (romjiupan. (0 sn>e. Upton. He hated all good workes and vertuous deeds, And him no lesse, that any hke did use ; And, who with gratious bread the hungry feeds, His almes for want of faith he doth accuse ; So every good to bad he doth abuse : And eke the verse of famous poets witt He does backebite, and spightfull poison spues From leprous mouth on all that ever writt: Such one vile Envy was, that fifte in row did sitt. xxxirr. And him beside rides fierce revenging Wrath, Upon a lion, loth for to be led ; And in his hand a burning brond he hath. The which he brandisheth about his hed : His eies did hurle forth sparcles fiery red, And stared sterne on all that him beheld ; As ashes pale of hew, and seeming ded ; And on his dagger still his hand he held. Trembling tlnrough hasty rage, when choler in hira sweld. xxxiv. His ruffin raiment all was staind with blood Which he had spilt, and all to rags yi'eiit ; Through unadvized rashnes woxen wood ; For of his hands he had no govemement, Ne car'd for blood in his avengement : But, when the fmious fitt was overpast, His cmel facts he often would repent ; Yet, wilfull man, he never would forecast, How many mischieves should ensue his heedlesse hast. XXXV. Full many mischiefes follow cmell Wrath ; Abhon-ed Bloodshed, and tumultuous Strife, Unmanly Mm-der, and unthrifty Scath, Bitter Despight with Rancours rusty knife ; And fretting Griefe, the enemy of life : All these, and many evils moe haunt Ire, The swelling Splene, and Frenzy raguig rife, Tlie shakmg Palsey, and Saint Fraunces fire : Such one was Wrath, the last of tliis ungodly tiro. xxxvf. And, after all, upon the wagon beame Rode Sathan with a smarting whip in hand. With which he forward lasht the laesy teme. So oft as Slowth still in the mire did stand. Huge routs of people did about them band, Showting for joy ; and still before their way A foggy mist had covered all the Land ; And, underneath their feet, ah scattered lay Dead sculls and bones of men, whose life had gone astray. xxxvit. So f. jrth they marchen in this goodly sort. To take the solace of the open aire. xxxTv. 1. His vnf^n raimenf] Mr. Church here observes, that rtijjin is reddish, from the Lat. rii/us. I suspect, however, that the poet did not intend to specify the colour of the dresB, but rather to give a very charjicteristical expression even to the raiment of Wratli. Ruffm, sospflt. denoted a swasltbuchlerj or, as wo should now sav, a hully. Todd. xxxiv. 3. MJoxen wood ;] Mad. Anglo-Sax. wwd. Todd. XXXV. 3. unlhrifly Scath,'] Indiscreet mischief, says Mr. Church. Todd. CANTO IV.] THE FAERIE QUEENE. 25 And ill fresh flowring fields themselves to sport : Emoiigst the rest rode that false Lady faire. The foul Duessa, next unto the chaire Of proud Lucifer', as one of the traine : But that good Knight ^»'nuld not so nigh repaire, Hiiu selfe estraunging from their ioyaunce vaine. Whose fellowship seemd fai unRtt for warlike swaine. xxxvrri. S05 having solaced themselves a space With pleasaunce of the breathing fields yfedj They backe retourned to the princely place ; Whereas an errant Knight in armes ycled, And heathnish shield, wherein with letters red Was writt Sans ioy, they new arrived find : Enflam'd with fury and fiers hardyhed. He seemd in hart to harbour thoughts mikind. And nourish bloody vengeaunce in liis bitter mind. Whp, when the shamed shield of slaine Sansfoy He spide with that same Fary champions page, Bewraying him that did of late destroy His eldest brother ; burning all with rage. He to hira lept, and that same envious gage Of victors glory from him snatcht away : But th' Elfin Knight, which ought that warlike wage, Disdaind to loose the meed he wonne in fray ; And, him rencountring fierce, reskewd the noble pray. XL. Therewith they ga.u to hurtlen greedily, Redoubted battaile ready to darrayne, And clash their shields, and shake their swerds on hy ; [traine : That with their sturre they troubled all the Till that great Queene, upon etemall paine Of high displeasure that ensewen might, Commamided them their fury to refraine ; And, if that either to that shield had right, 111 equall lists tliey should the morrow next it fight. « Ah dearest Dame/' quoth then the Paynimhold, " Pardon the error of enraged wight, [hold Whome great griefe made forgett the raines to Of reasons rule^ to see this recreaunt Knight, (No Knight, but treachour full of false despight And shamefid treason,) who tlu^ough guile hath slayn The prowest Knight, that ever field did fight, Even stout Sansfoy, (0 who can then rcfrayn ?) Whose shield he beares renverst, the more to heap disdayn. XXJtIX. 7- - . which ought that warlike wage,"] That Is, wliich owed; which was the proper owner, or pos- sessor of. Upton. xh. 2. Redoubted battaile readj/ to darrayne,] This word Boems to be derived fiom the French arranger; bo that, to darrayne battaile,iB to set the battle in array. T. Warton. XLT. 4. recreaunt Kjdght,'] 'Iliis ignominious phrase often occurs in romance. It not only means one who yields himself to his enemy in single combat, but a coward anct a traitor. Todd. XLT. 7t The prowest Knight,'] The most valiant Knight. Todd. xLr 9. Whose shield he beares renverst,] Iteversed, Upton. " And, to augment the glorie of his guile. His dearest love, the faire Fidessa, loe Is there possessed of the traytour vile ; Who reapes the harvest sowen by his foe, Sowen in bloodie field, and bought with woe : That — brothers hand shall dearely well requight. So be, Queene, you equall favour showe." Him litle answerd th* angry Elfin Knight ; He never meant with words, but swords, to plead his right : XLJII. But tlii'ew his gauntlet, as a sacred pledg. His cause in combat the next day to try : So been they parted both, with harts on ed^ To be aveng'd each on his enimy. That night they pas in ioy and iollity. Feasting and courting both in bowre and hall ; For steward was excessive Gluttony, That of his plenty poured forth to all : Which doen, the chamberlain Slowth did to rest them call. XLIV Now wbenas darksome Night had all displayd Her coleblacke curtein over brightest skye ; The warlike youthes, on dayntie couches layd, Did chace away sweet sleepe from sluggish eye. To muse on meanes of hoped victory. But whenas Morpheus had ^\'ith leaden fiiace Arrested all that courtly company. Uprose Duessa from her resting place. And to the Paynims lodging comes with silent pace : Xf-V. Whom broad awake she findes, in troublous fitt. Fore-casting, how his foe he might annoy ; And him amoves with speaches seeming fitt, " Ah deare Sansioy, next dearest to Sansfoy, Cause of my new griefe, cause of my new ioy ; Toyous, to see his ymage in mine eye. And greevd, to thinke how foe did him destroy That was the fiowre of grace and chevalrye ; Lo, his Fidessa, to thy secret faith I fiye." With gentle wordes he can her fayrely greet. And bad say on the secrete of her hart : Then, sighing soft ; " I learne that litle sweet Oft tempred is," quoth she, " with muchell smart : For, since my brest was laimcht with lovely dart Of deare Sansfoy, I never ioyed howre. But in eternall woes my weaker hart Have wasted, loving him with all my powre. And for his sake have felt full many an heavy stowi*e. xLvn. " At last, when perils all I weened past. And hop'd to reape the crop of all my care. Into new woes unweeting I was cast By this false faytor, who unworthie ware His worthie shield, whom he with guilefull snare Entrapped slew, and brought to shameful! grave : XLV. 1. he can^ Began. Todd. Ai.vt. 4. muchell smart .] The adjective mochel, from tiie Sax. mochel, moche, that is, mitchy is often used by Gower and Chaucer. To."»i>. .28 THE FAERIE QUEENE. [HOOK I, Unweeting of the perillous wandring wayes. Doth meete a oruell craftie crocodile, Which, in false griefe hyding his harmefull guile, Doth weepe full sore, and sheddetli tender tears; The foolish man, that pities all this while His mournefull plight, is swallowed up unwares; ForgetfuU of his owne, that mindes an others cares. XIX. So wept Duessa untill eventyde, [light : That shyning lampes in loves high house were Then forth she rose, ne lenger would abide ; But comes unto the place, where th' Heihen Knight, In slombring swownd nigh voyd of vitall spinght. Lay cover'd with inchaunted cloiid all day : Whom when she found, as she him left in plight. To wayle his wofiJl case she would not stay. But to the easterne coast of heaven makes speedy way: XX. Where griesly Night, with visage deadly sad. That Phoebus chearefuU face durst never vew. And in a foule blacke pitchy mantle clad, [mew ; She findes forth dimming from her dai'ksome Where she all day did hide her hated hew. Before the dore her yi-on charet stood. Already harnessed for ioumey new. And cole-blacke steedes ybome of hellish brood, Tliat on their riisty bits did champ, as they were wood. xxr. Who when she saw Duessa, sunny bright, Adomd with gold and jewels shining cleare, She greatly gi-ew amazed at the sight, And th' unacquainted light began to feare ; (For never did such brightnes there appeare ;) And would have backe retyred to her cave, Untill the Witches speach she gan to heare. Saying ; " Yet, O tliou dreaded Dame, I crave A-byde, tiU I have told the message which I have." She stayd ; and foorth Duessa gan proceede " Thou, most auncient grandmother of all. More old than love, whom thou at first didst Or that great house of gods cselestiall ; [breede, Which wast begot in Dsemogorgons hall. And sawst the secrets of the world unmade ; Why suffredst tliou thy Nephewes deare to fall With Elfin sword, most shamefully betrade S Lo, where the stout Sansioy doth sleepe in deadly shade ! xxirr. ' And, him before, I saw with bitter eyes The bold Sansfoy shrinck underneath hisspeare; And now the pray of fowles in field he lyes. Nor wayld of friends, nor layd on groning beare. That whylome was to me too dearely deare. O I what of gods then boots it to be borne. If old Aveugles sonnes so evill heare ! - her darksome mew ;] Place of confinement. - ill' unacquainted lights The unusual light. XX. 4. fODD. xxf. 4. ToDn. XXII. 7. thy Nephewes de.are'] i. e. Thy grandchU- Iren ; as nepoies is used in the Latin language. Upto.v. XXIII. C. I/old Aveiiffles sonnes ro evill heare ?] That is, have so bad a name and character : are so ill spoken of. Upton. Or who shall not gi'eat Nightes children scome. When two of three her Nephews are so fowle for- lorne 1 XXIV. " Up, tlien ; up, dreary Dame, of darknes Queene; Go, gather up the reliques of thy race ; Or else goe, them avenge ; and let be seene That dreaded Night in brightest day hath place, And can the children of fayre Light deface." Her feeling speaches some compassion mov'd In hart, and chaunge in that great mothers face: Yet pitty m her hai't was never prov'd Till then ; ■Sr evermore she hated, never lov'd : XXV. And said, " Deare daughter, rightly may I rew The fall of famous children borne of mee, And good successes, which their foes ensew : But who can tume the streame of destinee, Or breake the chayne of strong necessitee, Which fast is tyde to loves eternall seat \ The sonnes of Day he favoureth, I see, And by my rumes thinkes to make them great ! To make one great by others losse is bad excheat. XX vr. " Yet shall they not escape so freely all ; For some shall pay the price of others guilt : And he, the man that made Sansfoy to fall. Shall with his owne blood price that he hath spilt But what art thou, that telst of Nephews kilt i" " I, that do seeme not I, Duessa ame," Quoth she, "how ever now, in garments gilt And gorgeous gold arrayd, I to thee came ; Duessa I, the daughter of Deeeipt and Shame." XXVI I. Tlien, bowing downe her aged backe, she kist The wicked Witch, sayiug ; " In that fayre face The false resemblaunoe of Deeeipt, I wist, Did closely lurke ; yet so true-seeming grace It carried, that I scarse in darksome place Could it disceme ; though I the mother bee Of Falshood, and roote of Duessaes race. welcome, child, whom I have longd to see, And now have seene unwares ! Lo, now I go with thee." XXVITT. Tlien to her yron wagon she betakes. And Avith her beares the fowle welfavom'd Witch: Through mirkesome aire her ready way she makes. Her twyfold teme (of which two blacke as pitch, And two were browne, yet eacli to each unlich,) Did softly swim away, ne ever stamp Unlesse she chaunst their stubbome mouths to twitch ; Then, foming farre, their bridles tliey would champ. And trampling the fine element would fiercely ramp. 3 Kv, 9. is bad excheat] Excheat or esc' eat (Fr., eschtute or eschoette) is a law term, and signifies any lands or profits that fall to a lord within his manor by forfeiturei &c. Chubch. XXVI. 4, Shall with his owne blood price] Price is here used as a verb, to pay the price of. Church. xxviii. 3. Through mirkesome aire"] Mirkness is dark- ness, and mirk is dark. ToOD. XXVIII. 8. Then, foming tarre,"] Then foming what resembled tarre— Then as it were foming forth tarre. Upton. UNTO v.] THE FAERIE QUEENE. 2.0 3o well they sped, that they be come at length Unto the place, whereas the Paynim lay Devoid of outward senee and native strength, Coverd with charmed cloud from vew of day And sight of men, since his late luekelesse fray. His cruell wounds with cruddy bloud congeald They binden up so wisely as they may. And handle softly, till they can be heald : So lay Mm in her charett, close in night conceald. XXX. And, all the while she stood upon the ground. The wakeful dogs did never cease to bay ; As giving warning of th' unwonted somid. With which her yrou wheeles did them affray, And her darke griesly looke them much dismay. The messenger of death, the ghastly owle. With drery shriekes did also her bewray ; And hungry wolves continually did howle At her abhorred face, so filthy and so fowle. Thence turning backe in silence softe they stole, And brought the heavy corse with easy pace To yawning gulfe of deepe Avernus hole : By that same hole an entraimce, darke and bace. With smoake and sulphur hiding all the place. Descends to hell : there creature never past. That backe retoumed without heavenly grace ; But dreadfull Fm-ies, which their chauies have brast. And damned Sprights sent forth to make ill men aghast. xxxn. By that same way the direfull Dames doe drive Their mournefull charett, fild with rusty blood, And downe to Plutoes house are come bilive : Which passing tlirough, on evei-y side them stood The trembling ghosts with sad amazed mood, Chattring their iron teetli, and staring wide With stonie eies ; and all the hellish brood Of feends infernall flockt on every side. To gaze on erthly wight, that with the Night durst ride. xxxiir. They pas the bitter waves of Acheron, Where many soules sit waihng woefully ; And come to fiery flood of Phlegeton, Whereas the damned ghosts in torments fry. And with sharp shrilling shriekes doe bootlesse cry, Cursmg high love, the which them thither sent. The House of endlesse Paine is built thereby, In which ten thousand sorts of punishment The ciursed creatures doe eternally torment. xxxrv. Before the threshold dreadfull Cerberus His three deformed heads did lay along. Curled with tliousand adders venomous ; And laied forth his bloody flaming tong : At them he gan to reare his bristles strong. And feUy gnarre, untill Dayes enemy xxxr. 4 darkt and bace,] Low. Todd. XXXIV. 4. And lilledj Lolled, Upton. xxxiT. 6. And felly gnarre,] Chaucer uses gnerring, in a general sense, for snarling, quarrelling. Todd. Did him appease ; then downe his taile he hong, And suffered them to passen quietly : For slie in hell and heaven had power equally. XXXV. There was Ixion turned on a wheele, For daring tempt the queene of heaven to sin ; And Sisyphus an huge round stone did reele Against an hill, ne might from labour lin ; There thristy Tantalus hong by the chin ; And Tityus fed a vultur on his maw ; Typhosus ioynts were stretched on a gin ; Theseus eondemnd to endlesse slouth by law ; And fifty sistei's water in leke vessels draw. They, all beholding worldly wights in place. Leave off" their worke, unmindfuU of their smart, To gaze on them ; who forth by them doe pace. Till they be come unto the furthest part ; Where was a cave ywrought by wondrous art, Deepe, darke, uneasy, dolefull, comfortlesse. In which sad Aesculapius far apart Emprisond was in chaiues remedilesse ; For that Hippolytus rent corse he did reJresse. xxxvrr. Hippolytus a ioUy hiuitsman was, That wont in charett chace the foming bore : He all his peeres in beauty did surpas ; But ladies love, as losse of time, forbore : His wanton stepdame loved him the more ; But, when she saw her offred sweets refusd. Her love she tm^d to hate, and him before His father fierce of treason false accusd. And with her gealous termes his open eares abusd : xxxvni. Who, all in rage, his sea-god syre besought Some cursed vengeaunce on his Sonne to cast : From surging golf two monsters streight were brought ; With dread whereof his chacing steedes aghast Both charett swifte and huntsman- overcast. Hif goodly corps, on ragged cliff's yrent, Was quite dismembred, and his members chast Scattered on every mountaine as he went. That of Hippolytus was lefte no moniment. XXXIX. His cruell step-dame, seeing what was donne. Her wicked dales with wretched knife did end. In death avowing th' innocence of her Sonne. Which hearing, his rash syre began to rend His heare, and hasty tong that did offend : Tho, gathering up the reUques of his smart. By Dianes meanes who was Hippolyts frend, Them brought to Aesculape, that by his art Did heale them all againe, and ioyned every part. Such wondrous science in mans witt to rain When love avizd, that could the dead revive. XXXV. 9. leke] That is, leakr/. Church. xxxvr. 1. in place,'] Generally used for there • but, in P. Q. VI. i. 28, 1 thinlc it is used for here. Church. XXXVI. 9. -lie did redresse.] Put together again. Fr. redresser. Church. XXXIX. 2. Her wicked dales with wretched knife did end.^ As knife is derived from t"Pos and used by our old poets in that sense, it means, dagger or poniard* Upton. ao THE FAERIE QUEENE. [book j And fates expired could renew again, Of endlesse life lie might him not deprive ; But unto hell did thrust him downe alive. With flashing thunderbolt ywounded sore : Where, long remaining, he did alwaies strive Himselfe with salves to health for to restore. And slake the heavenly fire that raged evermore. xLr. Tliere auneieut Night arriving, did alight From her nigh-weary wayne, and in her ai-mes, To Aesculapius brought the womided Knight : Whom havhig softly disaraid of armes. The gan to him discover all his harmes. Beseeching him with prayer, and with praise. If either salves, or oyles, or herbes, or channes, A fordonne wight from dore of death mote raise. He would at her request prolong her Nephews dales. XLrr. " Ah Dame," quoth he, " thou temptest me in vaine To dare the thing, which daily yet I rew ; And the old cause of my continued paine With Hlce attempt to like end to renew. Is not enough, that, thrust from heaven dew. Here endlesse penaunce for one fault I pay ; But that redoubled crime with vengeaunce new Thou biddest me to eeke ? can Night defray The wrath of thundring love, that rules both Night and Day % " xLiir, " Not so," quotli she ; " but, sith that heavens King From hope of heaven hath thee excluded quight. Why fearest thou, that canst not hope for thing; And fearest not that more thee hurten might. Now in the powre of everlasting Night 1 Goe to then, thou far renowmed sonue Of great Apollo, shew thy famous might In medicine, that els hath to thee womie Great pains, and greater praise, both never to be donne." XLIV. Her words prevaild : And then the learned leach His cunning hand gan to his wounds to lay. And all tilings els, the which his art did teach : Which having scene, from thence arose away The Mother of di-edd darlmesse, and let stay Aveugles Sonne there in the leaches cure ; And, backe retourning, took her wonted way To ronne her timely race, whilst Phoebus pure In westerne waves his weary wagon did recure, XLV. The false Duessa, leaving noyous Night, Returnd to stately pallace of Dame Pryde : Where when she came, she found the Faery Knight Departed thence ; albee (his woundes wyde Not tliroughly heald) unready were to ryde. Good cause he had to hasten thence away; For on a day his wary Dwarfe had spyde Where, in a dungeon deepe, huge nombers lay )f caytive wretched thi'alls, that wayled night and day; xui. 8. Tliou biddest me to eeke?] Encrease. To add nto. Todd. XLiv. 0. did recure.] Becover from their fatigue. n general, simply, recovered. Upton. XLV. 9. Of caytive wretched thralls^'] Caytive, base. Church. (A rueful! sight as could be scene with eie ;) Of whom he learned had in secret mse The hidden cause of their captivitie ; How mortgaging their lives to Covetise, Through wastfuTl pride and wanton riotise, They were by law of that proud tyrarmesse, Provokt with Wrath and Envyes false surmise, Condemned to that dongeon mercilesse. Where they should live in wo, and dye in wretched- nesse. xLvrr. There was tliat great proud king of Babylon, That would compell all nations to adore And him, as onely God, to call upon ; Till, through celestiall doome thrown out of dore, Into an oxe he was transformd of yore. There also was king Croesus, that enhaunst His hart too high through his great richesse store; And proud Autiochus, the which advaunst His cursed hand gamst God, and on his altares daunst. xLVin. And, them long time before, great Nimrod was. That first the world with sword and fire war- And after him old Ninus far did pas [rayd ; In princely pomp, of all the world obayd. There also was that mightie monarch layd Low mider all, yet above all in pride. That name of native syi'e did fowle upbrayd, And would as Ammons sonne be magnifide ; Till, scornd of God and man, a shamefull death he dide. xr.rx. All these together in one lieape were throvrae, Like carkases of beastes in butchers stall. And, in another comer, wide were strowne The Antique ruins of the Romanes fall : Great Romulus, the grandsyre of them all ; Proud Tarquin ; and too lordly Lentulus ; Stout Scipio ; and stubborne Hanniball ; Ambitious Sylla ; and sterne Marius ; High Caesar ; great Pompey ; and fiers Antonius, li. Amongst these mightie men were wemen mixt. Proud wemen, vaine, forgetfuU of then- yoke : The bold Semiramis, whose sides transfixt With sonnes own blade her fowle reproches spoke : Fayre Sthenobcea, that her selfe did choice With wilfuU chord, for wanting of her will ; High-minded Cleopatra, that with stroke Of aspes sting her selfe did stoutly kill : And thousands moe the like, that did that dongeon fill. LI. Besides the endlesse routes of wretched thralles. Which thether were assembled, day by day. From all the world, after their woftiU falles Through wicked pride and wasted welthes decay. But most, of all which in that dongeon lay. Fell from high princes courtes, or ladies bowres; Where they in ydle pomp, or wanton play, Consumed had their goods and thriftlesse howres, [ stowres. And lastly thrown themselves into these heavy XLvirr. 2. v>ilh tword and fire warrayd;] ^'^ war upon. TJPTON. JANTO VI.] THE i) AERIE QUEENE. 31 Wliose case whenas the careful Dwarfe had tould, And made ensample of iheir mom-nfuU sight Unto liis Maister ; he no lenger would There dwell in perill of hlce painefull plight, But earely rose ; and, ere that dawning light Discovered had the world to heaven wyde. He hy a privy posteme tooke his flight. That of no envious eyes he mote be spyde : For, doubtlesse, death ensewd if any him descryde. Lllf, Scarse covdd he footing find in that fowle way. For many corses, lilce a great lay-stall. Of murdred men, which therein strowed lay Without remoi'se or decent funerall ; Which, al through that great Princesse Pride, did fall, And came to shamefull end : And them besyde, Forth ryding underneath the casteU wall, A donghill of dead carcases he spyde ; The di-eadfull spectacle of that sad House of Pr^de. CANTO VI. From iawlesse lust by wondrous grace Payre Una is releast; Whom salvage nation does adore. And learues her wise bebea&t. As when a ship, that fiyes fayre under sayie, An hidden rocke escaped hath unwares. That lay m waite her wrack for to bewaile ; The mariner yet halfe amazed stares At perill past, and yet in doubt ne dares To ioy at liis foolhappie oversight : So doubly is distrest twixt ioy and cares The dreadlesse corage of this Elfin Knight, Having escapt so sad ensamples in his sight. n. Yet sad he was, that his too hastie speed The fayre Duess' had forst him leave behind ; And yet more sad, that Una, his deare Dreed, Her truth had staynd with treason so mikind ; Yet cryme in her could never creature find : But for his love, and for her own selfe sake, She wandred had from one to other Ynd, Him for to seeke, ne ever would forsake ; TUl her unwares tlie fiers Sansloy did overtake : nr. Who, after Archimagoes fowle defeat, Led her away into a forest wilde ; And, turning wrathfull fyre to lustfull heat, Witli beastly sin thought her to have defilde. And made the vassall of his pleasures vilde. Yet first he cast by treatie, and by traynes. Lir. 1. the careful Dwar/eJ The sorrotc/ul Dwarf. Crurch. Liir. 2. a great lay-stall,] A place to lay dung or rubbish in. Todd. I. .3. That lay in woiie her wrack for to havfaWe \] To *}ewaUe, means not to lament her wrack; but, in old English, to waile or to 6eMJai7, means to make choice o/, to select- Upton. nr. 6. Tetjlrst he csLSf] Contrived. Repeatedly used In this sense by Spenser. Toon. Her to persuade tliat stubborne fort to yilde : For greater conquest of hard love he gaynea, That workes it to his wUl, then he that it con- sti-aines. IV, With fawning wordes he courted her a while ; And, looking lovely and oft sighing sore, Her constant hart did tempt with diverse guile : But wordes, and lookes, anJ sighes she did abhore ; As rock of diamond stedfast evermore. Yet, for to feed his fyrie lustfull eye. He snatcht the vele that hong her face before : Then gan her beautie shyne as brightest skye. And burnt his beastly hart t'enforce her chastitye. v. So when he saw his flatt'ring artes to fayle, And subtile engines bett from batteree ; With greedy force he gan the fort assayle. Whereof he weend possessed soone to bee, And wui ricli spoile of ransaclvt chastitee. Ah heavens ! that doe this liidfeous act beliold. And heavenly Virgin tlius outraged see, How can ye vengeance iust so long withhold. And burle not flashing flames upon that Paynim bold? VI. The pitteous Mayden, careful!, comfortlesse. Does throw out tluiUing shriekes, and shrieking cryes ; (The last vaine helpe of wemens greate distresse,) And with loud plaiutes impiirtuneth the skyes ; That molten starres doe drop like weeping eyes ; And Phoebus, flying so most shameful sight, His blushing face in foggy cloud implyes. And hydes for shame. What witt of mortall wight Can now devise to quitt a thrall from such a plight ? VII. Eternall Providence, exceeding thought. Where none appeares can make her selfe a way ! A wondrous way it for this Lady wrought. From lyons clawes to pluck the gryped pray. Her shrill outcryes and shrieks so loud did bray, That all the woodes and forestes did resownd : A troupe of Faunes and Satyres far away Within the wood were dauncing in a rownd. Whiles old Sylvanus slept in shady arber sownd : vriE. Who, when they heard that pitteous strained voice, In haste forsooke their rm'all meriment. And ran towardes the far rebownded noyce, To weet what wight so loudly did lament. Unto the place they come incontinent : Whom when the raging Sarazin espyde, A rude, mishapen, monstrous rablement, VI. 7. implyes,] Tnvelopes, hides. Church. vn. 1. Elernall Providence, exceeding thouglit, Where none appeares can make her selfe a way !] Exceeding thought, i. e. which piisseth all understanding. Can make — 1, e, knows how to make herself a way. Upthn. VII. 8. dauncing in a rownd,] The name of a dance. Todd. VIII. 5. . they come incontinent :] Instantly. Used as an adverb for incontinently. Church. VIII. 7. monstrous rablement,] Rablement, a crowd, was commonly used in a contemptuous manner. Todd. 32 THE FAERIE Q,UEENE. [nooK Whose like he never saw, he durst not byde ; But got his ready steed, and fast away gan ryde. rx. The wyld woodgods, arrived in the place, There find the Vu'gin, doolfull, desolate, With ruffled rayraents, and fayre blubbred face. As her outrageous foe had left her late ; And trembling yet through feare of former hate : AH stand amazed at so uncouth sight. And gin to pittie her unhappie state ; AH stand astonied at her beautie bright. In their rude eyes unworthy of so wofull plight. She, more amazd, in double dread doth dwell ; And every tender part for feare does shake. As when a greedy wolfe, through honger fell, A seely lamb far from the flock does take. Of whom he meanes his bloody feast to make, A lyon spyes fast running towards him. The innocent pray in hast he does forsake ; Which, quitt from death, yet quakes in every lim With chaunge of feare, to see the lyon looke so grim. XI. Such fearefuU fitt assaid her trembling hart ; Ne word to speake, ne ioynt to move, she had : The salvage nation feele her secret smart, And read her sorrow in her countenance sad ; Their frowning forheads, with rough homes yclad And rustick horror, all asyde doe lay ; And, gently grenning, shew a semblance glad To comfort her ; and, feare to put away, Tlieir backward-bent knees teach her humbly to obay. xir The doubtfull Damzell dare not yet committ Her single person to their barbarous truth ; But still twixt feare and hope amazd does sitt, Late leamd what harme to hasty trust ensu'th : They, in compassion of her tender youth And wonder of her beautie soverayne. Are wonne with pitty and unwonted ruth ; And, all prostrate upon the lowly playne. Doe kisse her feete, and fawne on her with coimt'- nance fayne. XIII. Their harts she ghesseth by their humble guise. And yieldes her to extremitie of time : So from the ground she fcarelesse doth arise. And walketh forth without suspect of crime : They, all as glad as birdes of ioyous pryme, Thence lead her forth, about her daunchig round. Shouting, and singing all a shepheards ryme ; And, with greene braunches strowing all the ground. Do worship her as queene with olive girlond cround. And all the way their merry pipes they sound. That all the woods with doubled eccho ring ; xir. 1. The doubtfull] Fearful- Church. xii. 2 their barbarous trulh ,•] Their uncivilized iincerity. Church, xni. 4. without suspect of crime;'] That is, hav- ing no apprehensions of being reproached, if she should be seen in such company. Church. And with their horned feet doe weare the ground, Leaping like wanton kids in pleasant Spring. So towai'ds old Sylvanus they her bring ; Who, with the noyse awaked, commeth out To weet the cause, his weake steps governing And aged limbs on cypresse stadle stout ; And with an yvie twyne his waste is girt about. XV. Far off he wonders what them makes so glad, Or Bacchus merry fruit they did invent, Or Cybeles franticke rites have made them mad They, drawing nigh, unto their god present That flowre of faytli and beautie excellent : The god himselfe, vewmg that min-hour rare, Stood long amazd, and burnt ui his intent : His owne fayre Dryope now he thinkes not faire, And Pholoe fowle, when her to this he doth com- paii-e. xvr. The wood-borne people fall before her flat, And worship her as goddesse of the wood ; And old Sylvanus selfe bethinkes hot, what To tliinke of wight so fayre ; but gazing stood In doubt to deeme her borne of earthly brood : Sometimes dame Venus selfe he seemes to see ; But Venus never had so sober mood : Sometimes Diana he her takes to be ; But misseth bow and shaftes, and buskins to hei knee. xvn. By vew of her he ginneth to revive His ancient love, and dearest Cyparisse ; And calles to mind his pourtraiture alive. How fayre he was, and yet not fayre to this ; And how he slew with glauncing dart amisse A gentle hynd, the which the lovely boy Did love as hfe, above all worldly blisse : For griefe whereof the lad n'ould after ioy ; But pynd away in anguish and seUewUd annoy. XVIII. The wooddy nymphes, faire Hamadryades, Her to behold do thether runne apace ; And all the troupe of light-foot Naiades Flocke all about to see her lovely face : But, when they vewed have her heavenly gi-ace, They envy her in their malitious mind. And fly away for feare of fowle disgrace : But all the Satyres soome their woody kmd. And henceforth nothing faire, but her, on eai-th they find. XIX. Glad of such lucke, the luekelesse lucky Mayd Did her content to please their feeble eyes ; And long time with that salvage people stayd, To gather breath in many miseryes. During which time her gentle wit she plyes. To teach them truth, which worshipt her in And made her th' Image of Idolatryes : [vaine, But, when their bootlesse zeale she did re- strayne From her own worship, they her asse would wor- ship fayne. XIV. 8. on ct/presse stadle slout ,] Stadle, ac- cording to Dr. Johnson, is a Saxon word, denoting 8 foundation. Todd. XVII. 9. annoy.] Noyance, hurt. Church. Canto vi.] THE FAERIE QUEENE. 33 It fortuned, a noble warlike Knight By iust occasion to that forrest came To seeke his kindred, and the lignage right. From whence he tooke his wel-deserved name : He had in armes abroad wonne muchell fame. And fild far landes with glorie of his might ; Plaine, faithfuU, true, and eniiny of shame. And ever loY'd to fight for Ladies right : But in Taine glorious frayes he liil& did delight. A Satyres sonne ybome in forrest wyld, By straunge adventure as it did betyde. And there begotten of a Lady myld, Fayre Thyamis the daughter of Labryde ; That was in sacred bandes of wedlocke tyde To Therion, a loose unruly swayne, Who had more ioy to raunge the forrest wyde. And chase the salvage beast with busie payne, Then serve his Ladies love, and waste in pleasures vayne. xxrr. The forlorne mayd did with loves longing burne. And could not lacke her lovers company j But to the wood she goes, to serve her turne, And seeke her spouse, that from her stiU does fly And followes other game and venery : A Satyre chaunst her wandring for to finde ; And, kindling coles of lust in brutish eye. The loyall linkes of wedlocke did unbinde. And made her person thrall unto his beastly kind. So long in secret cabin there he held Her captive to his sensuall desyre ; TiU that with timely fruit her belly sweld. And bore a boy unto that salvage syre : Then home he suifred her for to retyre ; For ransome leaving him the late-borne childe ; Whom, till to ryper years he gan aspyi'e. He nousled up in life and maners wilde, Emongst wild beastes and woods, from lawes of men exilde. For all he taught the tender ymp, was but To banish cowardize and bastard feare : His trembling hand he would him force to put Upon the lyon and the rugged beare ; And from the she-beares teats her whelps to teare ; And eke wyld roring buls he would him make To tame, and ryde their backes not made to And the robuckes m flight to overtake : [beare ; That eyerie beast for feare of him did fly and quake. Thereby so fearelesse and so fell he grew, Tiiat his owne syre and maister of his guise XXI. 8. And chase the salvage beast with buaie payne,] That is, diligently ; with diligent labour. TJrroN. xxri. 5. other game and venery :] Venery is Mint- ing, from the French v^nerie, a Mord often used ia ro- mance. Toon. xxnr. 8. He nousled] That is, nursed up. Todd, xxrv. 2. and bastard feare .■] That is, mean or contemptible. Todd. XXV. 2. maister of his guise"] That is, who formed him to such manners. Church. Did often ti-emble at his horrid vew ; And oft, for dread of hurt, would him advise The angry beastes not rashly to despise. Nor too much to provoke ; for lie would learne The lyon stoup to him in lowly wise, (A lesson hard,) and make the Ubbard sterne Leave roaring, when in rage he for revenge did earne. XXVI. And, for to make his powre approved more, Wyld beastes in yron yokes he would compell ; The spotted panther, and the tusked bore. The pardale swift, and the tigr^ cruell. The antelope and wolfe, both fiers and fell ; And them constraine in equall teme to draw. Such ioy he had their stubborne harts to quell. And sturdie courage tame with dreadfuU aw ; That his beheast they feared, as a tyrans law. xxvir. His loving mother came upon a day Unto the woodes, to see her little sonne ; And ehaunst unwares to meet him in the way, After his sportes and cruell pastime donne ; When after him a lyonesse did ruiine, That roaring aU with rage did lowd requere Her children deare, whom he away had wonne : The lyon whelpes she saw how he did beare. And lull in rugged armes withouten childish feare. xxvur. The fearefull dame all quaked at the sight. And turning backe gan fast to fly away ; UntiU, with love revokt from vaine atii'ight. She hardly yet perswaded was to stay. And then to him these womanish words gau say; " Ah Satyrane, my dearling and my ioy. For love of me leave off this dreadful! play ; To dajly thus with death is no fit toy : Go, find some other play-fellowes, mine own sweet boy." XXIX. In these and like delightes of bloody game He trayned was, till ryper years he raught ; And there abode, whylst any beast of name Walkt in that forrest, whom he had not taught To feare his force : and then his courage haught Desyi-d of forreine foemen to be knowne. And far abroad for straunge adventures sought ; In which his might was never overthrowne ; But through al Faery loud his famous worth was blown. XXX. Yet evermore it was his maner faire. After long labours and adventures spent, Unto those native woods for to repaire. To see his syre and ofspring auncient. And now he thether came for like intent ; Where he unwares the fairest Una found, Straunge Lady, in so straunge habiUment, XXV. 8. the libbard] Leopard. Church. XXVI. 4. The pardale, &c.] The panther and pardale are generally thought to be the same : but Xenophon (no bad authority) distinguishes them. TJpton. XXIX. 6. his courage haught] High. Fr. hauU ToDii. XXX. 4. To see his syre and ofspring auncient.] The construction is, To see his aneicnt sire and his sire's off- spring. Upton. SI THE FAERIE QUEENE. [book I, Teaching the Satyres, which her sat around, Trew sacred lore, which from her sweet hps did redoimd. XXXI. He wondred at her wisedome hevenly rare, Whose hke in womens witt he never Imew ; And, when her eurteous deeds he did compare, Gan her admire, and her sad sorrowes rew, Blaming of Fortvme, which such troubles threw, And ioyd to make proofe of her cruelty On gentle Dame, so hurtlesse and so trew ; Thenceforth he kept her goodly company. And leamd her discipluie of faith and verity. XXXII. But she, all vowd unto the Redcrosse Knight, His wandi'ing perill closely did lament, Ne in this new acquaintaunce could delight ; But her deare heart with anguish did torment. And all her witt in secret counsels spent. How to escape. At last in privy wise To Satyrane she shewed her intent ; Who, glad to gain such favour, gan devise. How with that pensive Maid he best might thence arise. SXXIII. So on a day, when Satyres all were gone To do theu" service to Sylvanus old, The gentle Virgin, left behinde alone. He led away with corage stout and bold. Too late It was to Satyres to be told, Or ever hope recover her againe : In vaine he seekes that, having, cannot hold. So fast he carried her with carefull paine, That they the woods are past, and come now to the plaine, XXX EV. The better part now of the Ungi'ing day They traveild had, whenas they far espide A weary wight forwandring by the way ; And towards him they gan in hast to ride, To weete of newes that did abroad betyde, Ur tidings of her Knight of the Redcrosse ; But he, them spying, gan to turne aside For feare, as seeind, or for some feigned losse : More gi'eedy they of newes fast towards him do crosse. XXXV. A silly man, in simple weeds forwome. And soild with dust of the long di'ied way ; His sandales were with toilsome ti'avell tome. And face all tand with soorchmg smmy ray. As he had traveild many a sommers day Through boyling sands of Arabic and Ynde ; And in his hand a lacobs staffe, to stay His weary limbs upon ; and ej;e behind His scrip did hang, in which his needments he did bind. XXXVI, The Knight, approching nigh, of him inquerd Tidings of warre, and of adventures new ; But waiTes, nor new adventures, none he herd. Then Una gan to aske, if ought he knew Or heard abroad of that her Champion trew. That in his armoiu: bare a croslet red. [rew " Ay me ! deare Dame," quoth he, " well may I To tell the sad sight which mine eies have red ; These eies did see that Knight both hving and eke ded." XXX VII. That cmell word her tender hart so thrild, That suddein cold did ronne through every And stony horrour all her sences fild [vaine, With dying fitt, that downe she fell for paine. The Knight her lightly reared up againe, And comforted with eurteous kind reliefe : Then, wonne from death, she bad him tellen plaina The further proeesse of her hidden griefe : The lesser pangs can beare, who hath endur'd the chief. xxxviri. Then gan the Pilgrim thus ; " I chaunst this dav. Tins fatall day, that shall I ever rew. To see two Knights, in travell on my way, (A Gory sight,) arraung'd in batteill new. Both breathing vengeaunce,both of wrathfuU hew : My feareful flesh did tremble at their strife, To see their blades so greedily imbrew. That, dronke with blood, yet thristed after life : What more ? the Redcrosse Knight was slain with Paynim knife." xxxrx. " Ah ! dearest Lord," quoth she, " how might that bee. And he the stoutest Knight, that ever wonne ? " " Ah ! dearest Dame," quoth he, " how might I see [donne?" The thing, that might not be, and yet was " Where is," said Satyrane, " that Paynims Sonne, That him of life, and us of ioy, hath refte ? " " Not far away," quoth he, " he hence doth wonne, Foreby a fountaine, where I late him left Washing his bloody wounds, that through the Steele were cleft." XL. Therewith the Knight then marched forth in hast. Whiles Una, with huge heavinesse opprest. Could not for sorrow follow him so fast ; And soone he came, as he the place had ghest, Whereas that Pagan proud himselfe did rest In secret shadow by a fountaine side ; Even he it was, that earst would have supprest Fau-e Una ; whom when Satyrane espide, With foule reproehfuU words he boldly him defide And said ; " Arise, thou cursed miscreamit, That hast with knightlesse guile, and trecherous train, [vaunt Faire knighthood fowly shamed, and doest That good Knight of the Redcrosse to have slam ; Arise, and with like treason now maintain Thy guilty wrong, or els thee guilty yield." The Sarazin, this hearing, rose amain, And, catching up in hast his three-square shield And shining helmet, soone him buckled to the field; XLri. And, drawing nigh him, said ; "Ah ! misborn Elfe, In evill houre thy foes thee hither sent Auothers wrongs to wreak upon thy selfe : XXXIX. 3 fhat ever wonne?] Here wonne ncans iliat ever conquered in battle. The word, rhyming to it, means doth dwell, Upton. XXXIX. 8. Foreby] In the «cnse of by, signifying rxca' ta Tonn CANTO VII.] THE FAERIE QUEENB. 35 Yet ill thou blamest me, for having blent My name with guile and traiterous intent : That Redcrosse Knight, perdie, I never slew ; But had he beene, where earst his armes were lent, [rew : Th' Enchauiiter vaine his errour should not But thou his errour shalt, I hope, now proven trew." XLrli. Therewith they gan, both furious and fell, To thunder blowes, and fiersly to assaile Each other, bent his enimy to quell ; That with their force they perst botli plate and maile. And made wide furrowes in their fleshes fraile, That it would pitty any living eie : Large floods of blood adowne theu' sides didi^e ; But floods of blood could not them satisfie : Both hongred after death ; both chose to win, or die. XLIV. So long they fight, and full revenge pursue. That, fainting, each themselves to breathen lett ; And, ofte refreshed, batteU oft renue. As when two bores, with rancling malice mett. Their gory sides fresh bleeding fiercely frett ; Til breathlesse both themselves aside retire, Where, foming wrath, their cruell tuskes tt jy whett, [respire ; And trample th' earth, the whiles they may^ Then backe to fight againe, new breatlied and entire. XLV. So fiersly, when these Knights had breathed once, They gan to fight retoume ; increasing more Their puissant force, and cruell rage attonce. With heaped strokes more hugely then before ; , That with their drery woimds, and bloody gore. They both deformed, scarsely could bee known. By this, sad Una fraught with anguish sore. Led with their noise which through the aire was thrown, Arriv'd, wher they in erth their fruitles blood had sown. XLVI. Whom all so soone as that proud Sarazin Espide, he gan revive the memory Of his leud lusts, and late attempted sin ; And lefte the doubtfuU battel hastily. To catch her, newly offred to his eie : But Satyrane, with strokes him turning, staid, And stemely bad him other business plie Then hunt the steps of pure unspotted Maid : Wherewith he al enrag'd these bitter speaches " foolish Faeries sonne, what fury mad Hath thee incenst to hast thy dolefuU fate ! Were it not better I that Lady had Then that thou hadst repented it too late ? Most sencelesse man he, that himselfe doth hate To love another : Lo then, for thine ayd. Here take thy lovers token on thy pate." So they to fight ; the whiles the royall Mayd Fledd farre away, of that proud Paynim sore ;vfrayd. - did raile ;T F!ote. TJpTOW, But tliat false Pilgrim, which that leasing told, Being in deed old Archimage, did stay In secret shadow all this to behold ; And much reioyced in their bloody fray : But, when he saw tlie Damsell passe away, He left his stond, and her piu'sewd apace. In hope to bring her to her last decay. But for to tell her lamentable cace. And eke this battels end, will need another place CANTO vn. The EeilcioFBe KDiglitis captive made. By Gj'Hiint Jjrniitl opprest ; Prince Arthure meets with Una great- ly witli those newea distrest. What man so wise, what earthly witt so ware. As to discry the crafty cimning traine. By which Deceipt doth maske in visour faire. And cast her coulours died deepe in graine. To seeme like Truth, whose shape she well can And fitting gestures to her pm'pose frame, [faine, The guiltlesse man with guile to entertaine ? Great maistresse of her ■ ai't was that false Dame, The false Duessa, cloked with Fidessaes name. Who when, returning from the drery Nignt, She found not in that perilous Hous of Pryde, Where she had left, the noble Redcrosse Knight, Her hoped pray ; she would no lenger byde. But forth she went to seeke him fai' and wide. Ere long she fownd, whereas he wearie sate To rest him selfe, foreby a fountaine syde. Disarmed all of yron-coted plate ; And by his side his steed the grassy forage ate. Hee feedes upon the cooling shade, and bayes His sweatie forehead in the breathing wynd. Which tlirough the trembling leaves full gently playes. Wherein the chearefull bu-ds of sundry kjiid Doe chaunt sweet musick, to delight his mynd : The Witch approching gan him fayrely greet. And with reproch of carelesnes uukynd Upbrayd, for leaving her in place unmeet. With fowle words tempring faire, soure gall with hony sweet. IV. Unkindnesse past, they gan of solace treat. And bathe in pleasaunce of the ioyous shade. Which shielded them against the boyhng heat. And, with greeue boughes decking a gloomy glade. About the fountaine like a girlond made ; Whose bubbling wave did ever freshly well, Ne ever would through fervent sommer fade : The sacred nymph, which therein wont to dwell, Was out of Dianes favor, as it then befell. xLViti. I rtadcasins] Luiiig. Todd. I- 1 so v/axe,'} Cautious. Todd. iir. \. Heefeedea upon the cooling shade,'] That is, enjoys- [Ipro.v. l> 2 36 THE FAERIE QUEENE. {book b The cause was this : One day, when Phoebe fayre With all her band was following the chace. This nymph, quite tyr'd with heat of scorching ayre, Satt downe to rest in middest of the race : The goddesse wroth gan fowly her disgrace. And badd the waters, which from her did flow. Be such as she her selfe was then in place. Thenceforth her waters wexed dull and iiiow 5 And all, that driuke thereof, do faint and feeble grow. TI. Hereof this gentle Knight nnweeting was ; And, lying downe upon the sandie graile, \^t&s : Dronke of the streame, as oleare as christall Eftsoones his manly forces gan to fayle. And mightie strong was turnd to feeble frayle. His chaunged po^vres at first themselves not Till crudled cold his corage gan assayle, £felt ; And cheareful blood in fayntnes chill did melt. Which, like a fever fit, thi-ougli all his bodie swelt. Vlf. Yet goodly court he made still to his Dame, Pourd out in loosnesse on the grassy grownd, Both carelesse of- his health, and of his fame : Till at the last he heard a dreadfuU sownd, Which through fhe wood loud bellowing did rebownd, Tliat all the earth for terror seemd to shake. And trees did tremble. Th' Elfe, therewifli astownd, Upsta.rted lightly from his looser Make, And his unready weapons gan in hand to take. But ere he could his armour on him dight, Or gett his shield, his monstrous enimy With sturdie steps came stalking in his sight, And hideous Geaunt, horrible and hye. That with his tallnesse seemd to threat the skye ; The ground eke groned under him for dreed ; His living Uke saw never living eye, Ne durst behold ; his stature did exceed The hight of three the tallest sonues of mortall seed, IX. The greatest Earth his iSncouth mother was, And blustring ^olus his boasted syre ; Who with his breath, which tlirough the world doth pas. Her hollow womb did secretly inspyre. And fild her hidden caves with stormie yre, That she conceiv'd ; and trebling the dew time. In which the wombes of women do expyre. Brought forth this monstrous masse of earthly slyme, Puft up with emptie wynd, and fild with sinful! cryrae, X. So growen great, through arrogant delight Of th' high descent whereof he was ybome, vr. 2. the sandie graile,] Some particles, or graveL Grele from gracilis. Upton. vri. 8. iiis looser Make,] Make here signifies com- paniLin. Church. IX. 7 do expyre.] That is, send forth, or bring forth. Lat. expiro. CuURCij. And tlirough presumption of hie asiatchlesse might, AH other powres and knighthood he did scome Such now he marcheth to this man forlome. And left to losse ; his stalking steps are etayde Upon a snaggy oke, which fee had torne Out of his mothers bowelles, and it made His mortall mace, wherewith his foemeu he dis- mayde. XI. That, when the Knight he spyde, he gan advaimce With huge force and insupportable mayne, And towardes him with dreadfull fury praunce ; Who haplesse, and eke hopelesse, all in vaine Did to him pace sad battaile to darrayne, Disarmd, disgraste, and inwai'dly dismayde ; And eke so faint in every ioynt and vayne. Through that fraile fountain, which him feeble made, {blade. Tliat scajsely could he weeld his bootlesse single The Geaunt strooie so maynly mercilesse, That could have overthrowne a stony towre ; And, were not hevenly grace that did him blesse, He had beene pouldred all, as thin as flowre : But he was wary of that deadly stowre, And lightly lept from underneath the blow : Yet so exceeding was the villeins powre. That with the winde it did him overthrow. And all his sences stoond, that still he lay full low. As when that divelish yron engin, wrought In deepest hell, and framd by Furies sldll. With windy nitre and quick sulphur fraught. And raiud with boUet rownd, ordaind to Icill, Conceiveth fyre ; the heavens it doth fill Witht]mndringnoyse,and all the ayre doth choke, That none can breath, nor see, nor heare at will, Through smouldry cloud of duskish stiucking smoke ; That th' only breath him daunts, who hath escapt the stroke. So daunted when the Geaunt saw the Knight, His heavie hand he heaved up on hye. And him to dust thought to have battred quight, UntUl Duessa loud to him gan crye ; " O great Orgoglio, greatest under skye, ! hold thy mortall hand for Ladies sake ; Hold for my sake, and doe him not to dye, But vanquisht thine eternall bondslave make, And me, thy worthy meed, unto thy leman take." He hearkned, and did stay from further harmes, To gayne so goodly guerdon as she spake : So willingly she came into his armes. Who her as willingly to grace did take, -disgraste,] That is, dissolute, debauched. - pouldred] Beaten to dust. Fr. pouldrer. Church. XII. 4. — Todd. XIII. 9. That th' only breath"} Only signifies alone. Church. XIV. 7 doe him not to dye,] The instances of this expression are innumerable, both in Chaucer, and in our author. This is, Je lid/erai mourir, Fr. Farollo morirt. Ital. T.Warton. CANTa VII.J THE FAERTE QUEENE. And was possessed of his neivfoiind Make. Then up he tooke the slomhred sencelesse corse ; And, ere he could out of his swowne awake, Him. to his castle brought with hastie forse. And in a dX)ngeon deepe him threw witliout re- morse. XVI. From that day forth Duessa was his deare. And highly honourd in his haughtie eye : H& gave her gold and purple pall to weare. And triple crowne set on her head full hye, And her endowd with royaU maiestye : Then, for to make her dreaded more of men. And peoples liartes with awfull terror tye, A monstrous Beast ybredd in filthy fen He chose, wMch he had kept long time in darksom den. xvn. Such one it was, as that renowmed snake Which great Alcides in Stremona slew, liOng fostred in the filth of Lema lake : Whose many heades out-budding ever new Did breed him endlesse labor to subdew. But this same Monster much more ugly was ; For seven great heads out of his body grew. An yron brest, and back of scaly bras. And all embrewd in blood his eyes did shins as glas. XVIII. His tayle was stretched out in wondrous length. That to the hous of hevenly gods it raught ; And with extorted po^vre, and borrow'd strength. The everburning lamps from thence it braught. And prowdly threw to ground, as things of naught ; And underneath his filtliy feet did tread The sacred thinges, and holy heastes foretaught. Upon this dreadfull Beast with sevenfold head He sett the false Duessa, for more aw and dread. fhe wofull Dwarfe, wliich saw his Maisters fall, (Whiles he had keeping of his gi-asing steed,) And valiant linight become a caytive thrall ; When all was past, tooke up his f6rlome weed ; His mightie armour, missing most at need ; His silver shield, now idle, maisterlesse ; His poynant speare, that many made to bleed ; The rueful moniments of heavinesse ; Vai with them all departes, to tell his great dis- tresse. XX. He had not travaild long, when on the way He wofull Lady, wofull Una, met Fast flying from that Paynims greedy pray, WhUest Satyrane him from pursuit did let : Who when her eyes she on the Dwarf had set. And saw the signes that deadly tydinges spake. She fell to ground for sorrowfull regret. And Uvely breath her sad brest did forsake ; Yet might her pitteous hart be seen to pant and quake, XXI. The messenger of so nnhappie neweg [within ; Would faine have dyde ; dead was his hart xvin,7-' holjj heastes foretaught.} i.e. the divine precepts 6^ore taught. ToDo. Yet outwardly some little comfort shewes : At last, recovering hart, he does begin To rub her temples, and to ehaufe her chin, And everie tender part does tosse and turne : So hardly he the flitted hfe does win Unto her native prison to retoui'ne. Then gins her grieved ghost thus to lament and mourne ; xxrr. " Ye dreary instraments of dolefuU sight. That doe this deadly spectacle behold. Why doe ye longer feed on loathed light, Or liking find to gaze on earthly mould, Sith cruell fates the carefull tlireds unfoidd. The which my life and love together tyde ? Now let the stony dart of sencelesse Cold Perce to my hart,, and pas through everie side : And let eternal! night so sad sight fro me hyde. " lightsome Day, the lampe of highest love. First made by him mens wandring wayes to guyde, When Darknesse he in deepest dongeon drove ; Hencefoi'th thy hated face for ever hyde, And shut up heavens windowes shyning wyde : For earthly sight can nought but sorrow breed. And late repentance, which shall long abyde. Mine eyes no more on vanitie shall feed. But, seeled up with death, shall have theii- deadly meed." XXIV. Then downe againe she fell unto the ground ; But he her quickly reared up againe ; Thrise did she sinke ado^vne in deadly swownd. And thrise he her reviv'd with busie paine. At last when Life recover'd had the raine. And over-wrestled his strong Enimy, With foltring tong, and trembling everie vaine, " Tell on," quoth she, " the wofull tragedy. The which these reliques sad present unto mine eye: XXV. " Tempestuous Fortune hath spent all her spight. And tlnrilling Sorrow throwne his utmost dart : Thy sad tong cannot tell more heavy plight Then that I i'eele, and harbour in mine hart : Who hath endur'd the whole, can beare ech part. If death it be ; it is not the first wound, [smart. That launched hath my brest with bleeding Begin, and end the bitter balefull stound ; If lesse then that I feare, more favour I have found." Then gan the Dwarfe the whole discourse declare ; The subtile traines of Archimago old ; The wanton loves of false Fidessa fayre. Bought with the blood of vanquisht Paynim bold ; The wretched Payre transformd to treen mould ; The House of Pryde, and perilles round about ; The combat, which he with Sansioy did hould ; The lucklesse conflict with the Gyaunt stout. Wherein capttv'd, of hfe or death he stood in doubt. XXI. 5. to chav/e her chin,J li&r/nce. TTpton. XXIV. G. Enimy,] Death. Life iind Death .ire here represented as persons; so are Sorrow and Fortune in the next stanza. Church. 3a THE FAERIE QUEENE. [book I she heard wrth patience all unto the end ; And strove to maistcr sorrowful! assay, Vi'liiuli greater grew, the more she did contend, And almost rent her tender hart in tway ; And love fresh coles unto her fire did lay : For greater love, the greater is the losse. A\'as never Lady loved dearer day Then she did love the Knight of the Redcrosse ; For whose deare sake so many troubles her did tosse. xxvnr. Vt last when fervent sorrow slaked was, She up arose, resolving him to find Alive or dead ; and forward forth doth pas, All as the Dwarfe the way to her assynd : And evermore, in constant carefuU mind. She fedd lier wound with fre-h renewed bale : Long tost with stormes, and bet with bitter wind. High over hills, and lowe adowne the dale. She wandred many a wood, and measurd many a vale. xxrx. At last she chaunced by good hap to meet A goodly Knight, faire marchmg by the way. Together with his Squyre, ai'ayed meet : His glitterand armour sinned far away. Like glauucing light of Phojbus brightest ray ; From top to toe no place appeared bare. That deadly dint of Steele endanger may : Athwart his brest a bauldrick brave he ware. That shind, like twinkling stars, with stones most pretious rare : XXX. And, m the midst thereof, one pretious stone Of wondrous worth, and eke of wondrous mights, Shapt like a Ladies head, exceeding shone. Like Hesperus emongst the lesser lights, And strove for to amaze the weaker sights : Thereby his moiiall blade full comely hong In yvory sheath, ycarv'd with cmious slightSj Whose hilts were bm-nisht gold ; and handle strong Of mother perle ; and buckled with a golden tong. His haughtie helmet, horrid all with gold. Both glorious brightnesse and great terrour For all the crest a dragon did enfold [bredd : With greedie pawes, and over all did spredd His golden winges ; his di'eadfuU hideous hedd. Close couched on tlie bever, seemd to throw From flammg mouth bright sparckles fiery redd. That suddeine horrour to faint hartes did show ; And scaly tayle was stretcht adowne his back fuU low. XXX I r. Upon the top of all his loftie crest, A bounch of heares discolourd diversly, With sprmcled pearle and gold full richly drest. Did shake, and seemd to damice for ioUity ; Like to an almond tree jTnomited hye On top of greene Selinis all alone. With blossoms brave bedecked daintily ; Whose tender locks do tremble every one At everie Utile breath, that mider heaven is blowne. XXIX. 4. His glitterand armour'}, Spenser thus affect- edly spells the particiiilc ghtkr'nQ, in iijiUation of Chaucer. T. W^lRTO.V. xxxiir. His warlike shield all closely cover'd was, Ne might of mortall eye be ever scene ; Not made of Steele, nor of endming bras, (Such earthly mettals soon consumed beene,) But all of diamond perfect pure and cleene It framed was, one massy entire mould, Hew'n out of adamant rocke with engines keene, That point of speare it never percen could, Ne dint of direful! sword divide t!ie substance would. XXXIV. The same to wight he never wont disclose. But whenas monsters huge he would dismay. Or daimt unequal! armies of his foes. Or wlien the flyuig heavens he would affray : For so exceedmg shone his glistring ray. That Phoebus golden face it did attaint. As when a cloud liis beames doth over-lay ; And silver Cynthia wexed pale and faynt, As wlien her face is staynd with magicke arts con- stramt. XXXV. No magicke ai-ts hereof had any might. Nor bloody wordes of bold Encliaunters call ; But all that was not such as seemd in sight Before that shield did fade, and suddeine fall : And, when him list the raskall routes appall, IVIon into stones therewith lie could transmew. And stones to dust, and dust to nought at all ; And, when liim hst the prouder loolces subdew. He would them gazing bluid, or tunie to other hew. Ne let it seeme that credence this exceedes ; [we. For he, that made the same, was kiiowne right To have done much more admirable deedes : It Merlin was, which wliylome did excel! All hvuig wightes in miglit of magiclie spell : Both sliield, and sword, and armour all he wrought [fell ; For this young Prince, when first to armes he But, wlien he dyde, the Faery Q,ueeue it brought To Fa«rle loud ; wliere yet it may be scene, ii sought. xxxvii. A gentle youtli, his dearely loved Squu'e, His speare of heben wood behind liim bare, A^'hose harmeful head, thrise heated in the fii-e, Had riven many a brest with pikehead square ; A goodly person ; and could menage faire His stubborne steed with curbed canon bitt. Who under him did trample as the au'e. And chauft, that any on his backe sliould sitt ; The yron rowels into frothy fome he bitt. XXXVIil. Whenas tliis Knight nigh to the Lady drew, With lovely court lie gan her entertaine ; But, when lie heard her aunswers loth, he knew Some secret sorrow did her heart distraine : Wliicli to allay, and calme her stoi-mmg paine, Faire feeling words he wisely gan display. And, for her humor fitting purpose faine. To tempt the cause it selfe for to bewray ; Wherewith enmovd, these bleeding words she gan to say ; xxxvir. 1), u-ilh curled canon] The canon h tliitt pai t of a horse-bitt which is let into the mouth. Church CAMrO VII. J THE FAERIE QUEENE. 23 " Wliat worlds delight, or ioy of living speach, Cam hart, so plungd in sea of sorrowes deep. And heaped with so huge misfortunes, reach 1 The careful! Cold begiuneili for to creep. And in my heart his yron arrow steep, Soone as I thinke upon my bitter bale. Such helplesse harmes yts better liidden keep. Then rip up griefe, where it may not availe ; My last left comfort is my woes to weepe and waile." XL. . « Ah Lady deare," quoth tlien the gentle Knight, " Well may I ween your griefe is wondrous great ; [spright. For wondrous gi-eat griefe groneth in my Whiles thus I heare you of your sorrowes treat. But, woefuU Lady, let me you intrete For to unfold the anguish of your hart : Mishaps are maistred by advice discrete. And counsell mitigates the greatest smart ; Found never help, who never would his hurts impart." xLr. " ! but," quoth she, "great griefe will not be tould. And can more easily be thought then said." " Right so," quoth he ; " but he, that never would. Could never : will to might gives greatest aid." " But griefe," quotli she, " does greater grow displaid, If then it find not helpe, and breeds despaire." " Despaire breeds not," quoth he, " where faith is staid." [paire." " No faith so fast," quoth she, " but flesh does " Flesh may empaire," quoth he, " but reason can repaire." XLII. His goodly reason, and well-guided speach. So deepe did settle in her gracious thought. That her perswaded to disclose the breach Which love and fortune in her heart had wrought ; [brought And said ; « Faire sir, I hope good hap hath You to inquere the secrets of my griefe ; Or that your wisdome will dh-ect my thought ; Or that your prowesse can me yield rehefe ; Then heare the story sad, which I shall tell jou briefe. xLin. " The forlorne Maiden, whom your eies have aeeno The laughmg stocke of Fortunes mockeries. Am th' onely daughter of a king and queene. Whose parents deare (whiles equal destinies Did ronne about, and their feMcities The favourable heavens did not envy',) Did spred their rule through all the teii-itories. Which Phison and Euphrates floweth by. And Gehons golden waves doe wash continually : " Till that their cmeU cursed enemy. An huge great Dragon, horrible in sight. Bred in the loathly lakes of Tartary, xLfv. 3. Bred in the loatJily lakes of Tartary,] The fioet should not have used Tartary here for Tartarus, as it might be so easily mifataken fur the country of that name. T. Warion. With nuu'drous ravine, and devouring might. Their kingdome spoild, and coimtrey wasted quight : Themselves, for feare mto his iawes to fall, He forst to castle strong to take then- flight ; Where, fast embard ui mighty brasen wall. He has them now fowl- yeai's besiegd to make them thrall. XLV. " Full many Knights, adventurous and stout. Have enterpriz'd that Monster to subdew : From every coast, that heaven walks about. Have thither come the noble martial crew. That famous harde atohievements still pursew ; Yet never any could that girlond win, But all still slironke ; and still he greater grew : AU they for want of faith, or guilt of sin. The pitteous pray of his fiers cruelty have bin. " At last, yled with far reported praise. Which flying fame tlu'oxighout the world had spred. Of doughty Knights, whom Fary land did raise, That noble order hight of Maidenhed, Forthvrith to court of Gloriane I sped. Of Gloriane, great queene of glory bright, Whose kingdomes seat CleopoUs is red ; There to obtauie some such redoubted Knight, That parents deare from tyrants powre deliver might. XLVII. " Yt was my chaunce (my chaimce was faire and good) Tliere for to find a fresh miproved Knight ; Whose manly hands imbrewd in guilty blood Had never beene, ne ever by Ins might Had throwne to ground the unregarded right : Yet of his prowesse proofe he since hath made (I witnes am) in many a cruell fight ; The groning ghosts of many one dismaide Have felt the bitter dint of liis avenging blade. " And ye, the forlorne rehques of his powre. His biting sword, and his devouruig speare. Which have endured many a dreadfull stowre. Can speake his prowesse, that did earst you beare, [heare And weU could rule ; now he hath left you To be the record of hisruefull losse. And of my dolefull disaventurous deare : heavie record of the good Redcrosse, Where have yee left your lord, that could so well you tosse 3 xLrx. " Well hoped I, and faire beginnings had. That he my captive languor should redeeme : Till all miweeting an Enchaunter bad His sence abusd, and made him to misdeume My loyalty, not such as it did seeme. XLvi. 4. If.'mf nofc^e orderhightof Maidenhed,] Named Knights of the Garter; This he does not say directly ; but the noble order of Maidenhead ; complimenting the Fairy Queen or Q. Eliz ibeth. UrroN. XLvir. 2. ■ a fresh unproved Knight ;] As yet untried in battle. Tonn. XLVii. 9. ■ the bitter dint] Stroke. Todd. XLV111.7. Jndof my dolefull disaventurous dvare:'} Beare is apparently used fur hurt, trouble, or misfortune. Todd. 40 THE FAERIE QUEENE. fBOOK I That rather death desire then such despight. Be iudge, ye heavens, tliat all tilings right esteeme, How I him lov'd, and love "with all my might 1 So thought I eke of him, and think I thought aright. " Thenceforth me desolate he quite forsooke, To wander, where wilde Fortune would me lead. And other bywaies he himselfe hetooke. Where never fonte of living wight did tread, That brought not backe the balefuU body dead ; In which him chaunced false Duessa meete, Mine onely foe, mine onely deadly dread ; Who with her witchcraft, and misseeming sweete. Inveigled him to follow her desires vmmeete. " At last, by subtile sleights she him betraid Unto his foe, a Gyaunt huge and tall ; Who him disarmed, dissolute, dismaid, Unwares surprised, and with mighty mali The monster mercilesse him made to fall. Whose fall did never foe before behold : And now in darkesome dungeon, wretched thrall, Remedilesse, for aie he doth him hold : This is my cause of griefe, more great then maybe told." LIT. Ere she had ended all, she gan to faint : But he her comforted, and faire bespake ; " Certes, Madame, ye have great cause of plaint. That stoutest heart, I weene, could cause to quake. But be of cheare, and comfort to you take ; For, till I have acquit your captive Knight, Assure your selfe, I will you not forsake." His chearefull words reviv'd her chearelesse spright : So forth they went, the Dwarfe them guiding ever right. CANTO VIIL P^-Jre Virgin, toredeemeherdeare, BrinxB Arthure to the fight: Who slayps the Gyaunt, wounds the Beas^ A' - Btrlps Duesaa ouight. At me, how many perils doe enfold The righteous man, to make liim daily fall. Were not that heavenly grace doth him uphold. And stedfast Truth acquite him out of all ! Her love is firme, her care continuall. So oft as he, tlirough his own foolish pride Or weaknes, is to sinfuU bands made thrall : Els should this Kedcrosse Knight in bands have dyde, For whose deliverance she this Prince doth thether n. They sadly traveild thut,untill they came Nigh to a castle builded strong and hye : T. 7. Mine onely f 06,1 That is, my greatest foe. CnimcH. l[. 4. with mighty mall] That is, blow. Todd. LTL 6. For, till I have acquit] Released. Fr. acquitter. Church. Then cryde the Dwarfe, " Lo ! yonder is the same. In which my Lord, my Liege, doth lucWesse ly Thrall to that Gyaunts hatefull tyranny : Therefore, deare sir, yoin- mightie powres assay." The noble Knight alighted by and Tiy From loftie steed, and badd the Ladie stay. To see what end of fight should him befall that day. iir. So with his Squire, th' admirer of his might. He marched forth towardes that castle wall ; Whose gates he fownd fast shutt, ne living wight To warde the same, nor answere commers call. Then tooke fliat Squire an home of bugle small, Which hong adowne his side in twisted gold And tasselles gay ; wyde wonders over all Of that same homes great vertues weren told, Which had approved bene in uses manifold. IV. Was never wight that heard that shrilling sownd, But trembling feare did feel in eveiy vaine : Three miles it might be easy heard arowiid, And ecchoes three aunswer'd it selfe agaiiie : No faulse enchauntment, nor deceiptfull ti'aine. Might once abide the terror of that blast. But presently was void and wholly vaine : No gate so strong, no locke so firme and fast. But with that percing noise flew open quite, or brast. V, The same before the Geaunts gate he blew. That all the castle quaked from the gi-owud, And every dore of free-wUl open flew. The Gyaunt seUe dismaied with that sownd, Where he with his Duessa dalliaunce fownd. In hast came rushing forth from inner bowre, With staring countenance sterne,as one astownd, And staggering steps, to weet what suddein stowre Had wrought that horror strange, and dar'd his dreaded powre. vr. And after him the proud Duessa came. High mounted on her many-headed Beast ; And every head with fyrie tongue did flame, And every head was crowned on his creast. And bloody mouthed with late cruell feast. That when the Knight beheld, his mightie shild Upon his manly arme he soone addrest. And at him fiersly flew, with corage fild, And eger greedinesse through every member thrild. VTI. Therewith the Gyaimt buckled him to fight, Inflamd with scomefuU wrath and high disdaine, And lifting up his dreadfuU club on hight, All aiTud with ragged snubbes and knottie graine. Him thought at first encounter to have slame. But wise and wary was that noble Fere ; And, lightly leaping from so monstrous maine, Did fayre avoide the violence him nere ; It booted nought to thinke such thimderbolts to beare ; "• ' by anfl by] Presently. Constantly bo used by Spenser. CniiiicH CANTO Till.] THE FAERIE QUEENE. 41 Ne sliame he thought to shonne so hideous might : The ydle stroke, enforcing fm-ious way. Missing the marke of his misaymed sight. Did fall to ground, and with his heavy sway So deepely dinted in the driven clay, That three yardes deepe a furrow iip did throw : The sad eai-th, wounded with so sore assay, Did grone fuU grievous underneath the blow ; And, trembling with strange feai'e, did like an erth- quake show. IX. As when almightie love, in wrathfull mood. To wreake the guilt of movtall sins is bent, Hurles forth his thundring dart with deadly food, Enrold in flames, and smouldring dreriment, Through riven cloudes and molten firmament ; The tiers threeforked engin, making way. Both loftie towres and highest trees hath rent. And all that might his Smgry passage stay ; And, shooting in the earth, castes up a mount of clay. His boystrous club, so buried in the grownd, He could not rearen Up againe so light; But that the Knight him at advantage fownd ; And, whiles he strove his combred clubbe to qiught Out of the earth, with blade all burning bright He smott off his left arme, which like a block Did fall to ground, deprived of native might ; Large streames of blood out of the tmneked stock Forth gushed, like fresh-Water streame from riven rocke. xr. Dismayed with so desperate deadly wound. And eke impatient of unwonted payne. He lowdly brayd with beastly yelling sow'nd. That all the fieldes rebellowed againe : As great a noyse, as when iu Cymbriau plaine An heard of bulles, whom kindly rage doth sting, Doe for the milky mothers want complame. And fill the fieldes with troublous bellowing : The neighbor woods arownd with hollow mm'mur That when his deare Duessa heard, and saw The evil stownd that daungerd her estate. Unto his aide she hastily did draw [late. Her dreadfull Beast ; who, swolne with blood of Came ramping forth with proud presumpteous gate, [brandes. And threatned ail his heades like flaming But him the Squire made quickly to retrate, Eucountring fiers with single sword in hand ; And twixt him and his Lord did like a bulwarke stand. XIII. The proud Duessa, full of wrathfull spight And fiers disdaine, to be affronted so, IX. 3 uiilh deadly fond,] Food is Spenser's way of spelling feudi which signifies an irreconcileable haired. C'HnaCH. tx. 4. ■ smouldring AT&TlTn&at \\ Darkness. Church. X. 4 to quight^l Release, or disengage. Todd, XI. 6. jln heard o/\)ul\e3~j Bulls for calves, ie a. cata^ chre-sis, as tlie rhetoricians call it. Kindly rage is, accord- ing to nature i Spenser often uses the word so. Jortin. xiii. 2. (r^e affronted 50,3 'J^o be so encountered, or opposed. Ital njjrrontare. Todd, Enforst her purple Beast with all her might. That stop out of the way to overthroe. Scorning the let of so unequall foe : But nathemore would that corageous Swayne To her yeeld passage, gainst his Lord to goe ; But with outrageous strokes did him restraine, And Avith his body bard the way atwixt them twaine. XIV. Then tooke the angrie Witch her golden cup, Which still she bore, replete with magick artes ; Death and despeyre did many thereof sup, And secret poyson through their inner partes ; Th' etemall bale of heavie wounded harts : Which, after charmes and some enchauntments said. She lightly sprinkled on his weaker partes : Therewith his stm-die corage Soon was quayd. And all his sences were with suddein dread dis- mayd. XV. So downe he fell before the cruell Beast, Who on his neck his bloody clawes did seize. That hfe nigh crusht out of his panting brest : No powre he had to stirre, nor will to rize. That when the carefull Knight gan well avise, He lightly left the foe with whom he fonght. And to the Beast gan turne his enterprise ; For wondrous anguish in his hart it wrought. To see his loved Squyre into such thraldom brought : XVI, And, high advauncing his blood-thirstie blade. Stroke one of those deformed heades so sore, That of his puissaunce proud ensample made ; His monstrous scalpe down to his teeth it tore. And that misformed shape misshaped more : A sea of blood gtisht from the gaping wownd. That her gay garments staynd with filthy gore. And overflowed all the field aroivnd ; That over shoes in blood he waded on the grownd. Tliereat he rored for exceeding paine. That, to have heard, great horror would have bred ; And scourging th' emptie ayre with his long trayne, Thi'ough great impatience of his grieved hed. His gorgeous ryder from her loftie sted Would have cast downe, andtrodd in durty myre, Had not the Gyaunt soone her succoured ; Who, all enrag'd with smart and frantick yre. Came hurtUng in full fiers, and forst the Knight retyre. xviir. The force, which wont in two to be disperst, In one alone left hand he now unites. Which is through rage more strong than both were erst ; With which his hideous club aloft he dites. And at his foe with furious rigor smites. That strongest oake might seeme to overthrow : xTii. 5 thelef] The hindrance. Church. xin. ti Swayne] Swainishereused for youth, in which sense it is employed by our old English writers, aa well as in the sense of a servant engaged in country affaire. Todd. XIV. 8. icos quayd,] Quailed, \. e.sutdued. Toon. 41- ■iHii FAERIE QUEENE. [book I The stroke upon liis shield so heavie lites. That to the ground it doubleth him full low : — What mortaU wight could ever beare so monstrous blowl XIX. And in his fall his shield, that covered was. Did loose his vele by chaunce, and open flew ; The light whereof, that hevens light did pas. Such blazing brightnesse through the aytir threw, That eye mote not the same endure to vew . Which when the Gyaunt spyde with staring eye. He downe let fall his arme, and soft withdrew His weapon huge, that heaved was on hye For to have slain the Man, that on the gi-omid did lye. XX. And eke the fraitfuU-headed Beast, amazd At flashmg beames of that sunshiny shield. Became stark blind, and all his senees dazd. That downe he tumbled on the durtie field, And seemd himselfe as conquered to yield. Whom when his Maistresse proud perceiv'd to fall. Whiles yet his feeble feet for faintnesse reeld. Unto the Gyaunt lewdly she gan call ; " ! helpe, Orgnglio ; helpe, or els we perish all." At her so pitteous cry was much amoov'd Her champion stout ; and, for to ayde his fi'end, Againe his wonted angry weapon proov'd. But all in vaiiie ; for he has redd his end In that bright bh'eld, and all their forces spend Themselves in vaine : for, since that glauncing He hath no powre to hurt, nor to defend, [sight. As where th' Almighties lightnmg brond does light. It dimmes the dazed eyen, and daunts the senees quight. xxri. Whom when the Prmce, to batteill new addrest And threatning high his dreadfull stroke, did see. His sparkling blade about his head he blest. And smote off quite his left leg by the knee. That downe he tombled ; as an aged tree. High growing on the top of roclty clift, [be. Whose hart-strings with keene Steele nigh hewen The mightie tnmck halfe rent with ragged rift '^oth roll adowne the rocks, and fall mth fearefuU drift. XXIII. Or as a castle, reared high and round, By subtile engins and malitious slighl Is nndennined from the lowest gi'CJJid, And her foundation forst, and feebled quight, At last downe falles ; and with her heaped hight Her hastie mine does more heavie make. And yields it selfe unto the victours might s Such was this Gyaunts fall, that seemd to shake The stedfast globe of earth, as it for feare did quake The Knight then, lightly leaping to the pray, With mortall Steele him smot againe so sore. That headlesse his unweldy bodie lay. All wallowd in his owne fowle bloody gore. Which flowed from his wounds in wondrous store. But; soone as breath out of his brest did pas. That huge great body, which the Gyaunt bore. Was vanisht quite ; and of that monstrous mas Was nothing left, but like an emptie blader was. Whose grievous fall when false Duessa spyde, Her golden cup she cast unto the ground, And crowned mitre rudely tlirew asyde : Such peroing gi-iefe her stubborne hart did wound, That she could not endure that dolefuU stound ; But, leaving aU behind her, fled away : The light-foot Squyre her quickly tm-nd around, And, by hard meanes enforcing her to stay. So brought unto his Lord, as his deserved pray. XXVI. The roiall Vii'gin which beheld from farre, In pensive plight and sad perplexitie. The whole atchievement of this doubtful! waire. Came running fast to gi-eet his victorie. With sober gladnesse and myld modestie ; And, with sweet ioyous cheare, him thusbespake ; " Fayre braunch of noblesse, flowre of chevah-ie, That with your worth the woi'ld amazed make. How shall I quite the paynes, ye suffer for my sake ? XXVII. " And you, fresh budd of vertue sprmging fast. Whom these sad eyes saw nigh unto deatlis dore, What hath poore Virgin for such perill past Wherewith you to reward ? Accept therefore My simple selfe, and service evermore. And He that high does sit, and all tilings see With equall eye, their merites to restore. Behold what ye tliis day have done for mee ; And, what I cannot quite, requite with usuree ! XXVIII. " But sith the heavens, and your faire handeliug. Have made you master of the field this day ; Your fortune maister eke with governing. And, well begonne, end all so well, I pray ! Ne let that wicked Woman scape away ; For she it is, that did my Lord bethrall, My dearest Lord, and deepe in dongeon lay ; Where he his better dayes hath wasted all : heare, how piteous he to you for ayd does call ! " XXIX. Forthwith he gave in charge unto his Squyre, That scarlet Whore to keepen carefully ; Whyles he himselfe with greedie great desyre Into the castle entred forcibly. Where living creature none he did espye : Then gan he lowdly tlirough the house to call ; But no man car'd to ansv/ere to his crye ; There raignd a solenme silence over all ; Nor voice was heard, nor wight was scene m bowre or hall 1 At last, with creeping crooked pace forth came An old old man, vrith beard as white as snow ; Tliat on a staffe his feeble steps did frame. And guyde his wearie gate both too and fro ; For his eye sight him fayled long ygo : And on his arme a bounch of keyes he bore, The which unused rust did overgrow : Those were the keyes of every inner dore ; But he could not them use, but kept them still iii store. CANTO VIll.] THE FAERIE QUEENE. 43 But very uncouth sight was to behold, How he did fashion his untoward pace ; For as he forward moov'd his footing old, So backward stiU was turud his wrincled face •, Unlike to men, who ever, as they trace. Both feet and face one way ai*e wont to lead. This was the auneient Keeper of that place. And foster father of the Gyaunt dead ; His name Ignaro did his nature right aread. 1 His reverend heares and holy gi-avitee I The Knight much honord, as beseemed well ; I And gently askt, where all the people bee, Which in that stately builduig wont to dwell : Who answerd him full soft, He could not tell. Again he askt, where that same Knight was layd. Whom great OrgogUo with his puissaunce fell Had made his caytive tlirall : Againe he sayde. He could not tell j ne ever other answere made. Then asked he, which way he in might pas : He coulil not tell, againe he answered. Thereat the courteous Knight displeased was. And said ; " Old syre,it seemes thou hast not red How ill it sits with tliat same silver lied. In vaine to moeke, or mockt in vaine to bee : But if thou be, as thou ai't pourtrahed With Natures pen, in ages grave degree, Aread in graver wise what I demaund of thee." XXXIV. His answere likewise was. He could not tell. Whose sencelesse speach, and doted ignorance, Whenas the noble Prince had marked well. He ghest his nature by his countenance ; And calm'd his wrath with goodly temperance. Then, to liim stepping, from his arme did reache Those keyes, and made himselfe free enterance. Each dore he opened without any breach : There was no baiTe to stop, nor foe him to empeach. XXSV. There all within full rich arayd he found. With royall arras, and resplendent gold. And did with store of every tlihig abound. That greatest princes presence might behold. But all the floore (too filthy to be told) With blood of guilt] esse babes, and innocents trew. Which there were slaine,assheepeout of the fold, Defiled was ; that dreadful! was to vew ; And sacred ashes over it was strewed new. xxxvr. And there beside of marble stone was built An altare, carv'd with cunning ymagery ; On which trew Christians blood was often spilt. And holy martyres often doen to dye. With crueU malice and strong tyranny : Wliose blessed sprites, from underneath the stone, To God for vengeance cryde continually ; xxxtrr. 8. in ages grave degree^'] Spenser, as the oM English poets do, u-ses agCt nr eld, for age in general ; not simply for old atje, as the Glossaries of Un-y, I-lughes, and the edition of Spenser in 1751, explaine/d. Cijhch. xxxiv. 9. him to empeach.] Hinder. Fr. em- p^cher. Todd. And with great griefe were often heard to grone Thathardest heart would bleede to hear their piteous mone. XXXVII. Through every rowme he sought, and everie bowr ; But no where could he find that wofuU Thrall. At last he came unto an yron doore. That fast was lockt ; but key found not at all Emongst that bomich to open it withall ; But in the same a little grate was pight. Through which he sent his voyce, and lowd did call With all his powre, to weet if living wight Were housed therewithin, whom he enlargen might. SXXVIIl. Therewith an hollow, dreary, mm'rauring voyce These pitteous plaintes and dolours did resound ; " ! who is that, which brtnges me liappy choyce Of death, that here lye dying every stound. Yet Uve perforce in balefuU darknesse bound ? For now three moones have changed thrice their hew. And have been thrice hid underneath the ground. Since 1 the heavens chearefuU face did vew : welcome, thou, that doest of death bring tydiugs trew !" Which when that Champion heard, with percing Of pitty deare his heai't was thrilled sore ; [point And trembling horrour ran tlirough every ioynt, For ruth of gentle Knight so fowle forlore : Which shaking off, he rent that yron dore With fm'ious force and mdignation fell ; Where entred in, his foot could find no flore. But all a deepe descent, as dark as hell, That breathed ever forth a filthie baneful! smell. But neither darkenesse fowle, nor filthy bands, Nor noyous smell, liis purpose could withhold, (Entire affection hateth nicer hands,) But that witli constant zele and corage bold. After long paines and labors manifold. He found tlie meanes that Prisoner up to reare ; Whose feeble thighes, miable to uphold His pined corse, him scarse to light could beare ; A vuefuU spectacle of death and ghastly drere. His sad dull eies, deepe sunck in hollow pits. Could not endm'e th' unwonted sunne to view ; His bare thin cheekes for want of better bits. And empty sides deceived of their dew. Could make a stony liart his hap to rew ; His rawboue armcs, whose mighty bravMied bowTS Were wont to rive Steele plates, and helmets hew, Were clone consum'd ; and all his vitall powres Decayd ; and a! liis flesh slironk up Uke withered flowres. xxxvii. 2. — iltat Kofidl Ihrall.'] The Rederosse Knight. ChuRi'h. XL. 9. . — - — ghastly drere.] Sorrow, sa:iness. Uitiin. xM. 2. th' unwonted suntie^'lhe'.ightthathehad long been disu82d to. Church. xLi. 6. whose mighty brawncd bowrs,] The bowrl {ire what anatomists call, musculi Jlexores j so named be cause easily boteed. The Danes use buu for the shoulder. L'rr. N. 44 THE FAERIE QUEENE. [BOOK t. Whome when his Lady saw, to him she ran With hasty ioy : to see him made her glad, And sad to view his visage pale and wan ; Who earst in flowres of freshest youth was clad. ThOj when her well of teares she wasted had, She said ; " Ah dearest Lord ! what evil starre On you hath frownd, and pourd his influence bad. That of your selfe ye thus berobbed arre. And this misseeming hew your manly looks doth marre i XLITf. " But welcome now, my Lord in wele or woe ; Whose presence I have lackt too long a day : And fye on Fortune mine avowed foe, [alay ; Whose wrathful wreakes themselves doe now And for these \VTonges shall treble penaunce pay Of treble good : Good growes of evils priefe." The chearlesse Man, whom sorrow did dismay, Had no delight to treaten of his griefe ; His long endured famine needed more reliefe. " Faire Lady," then said that victorious Knight, " The things, that grievous were to doe, or beare, Them to renew, I wote, breeds no delight ; Best musicke breeds delight in loathing" eare : But th' only good, that growes of passed feare. Is to be wise, and ware of Uke agein. This dales ensample hath this lesson deare Deepe written in my heart with yron pen. That Misse may not abide m state of mortall men* " Henceforth, Sir Knight, take to you wonted strength. And maister these mishaps with patient might : Loe, where your foe Ues stretcht in tdonstrous length ; And loe, that wicked Woman in your sight. The roote of all yoiir care and wretched plight. Now in your powre, to let her live, or die." " To doe her die," quoth Una, " were despight. And shame t*avenge so weake an enimy ; But spoile her of her scarlet robe, and let her fly." So, as she bad, that Witch they disaraid, And robd of roiall robes, and purple pall. And ornaments that richly were displaid ; Ne spared they to strip her naked all. Then, when they had despoyld her tire and call. Such, as she was, their eies might her behold. That her misshaped parts did them appall ; A loathly, wrinckled hag, ill favoured, old. Whose secret filth good manners biddeth not be told. XLVrT. Her crafty head was altogether bald. And, as in hate of honorable eld. Was overgrowne with scurfe and filthy scald , Her teeth out of her rotten gummes were fold. And her sowre breath abhominably smeld ; Her dried dugs, lyke bladders lacking wind. Hong downe, and filthy matter from them weld ; XLvi. 4. Ke spared they to strip her naked all.] AU, i. e. entirely, altogether. Upton. XLVI. 5. her tire and call,] That is, her attire and caul. Church. Her wrizled skin, as rough as maple rind, So scabby was, that would have loathd all woman- kind. xLVirr. Her neather parts, the shame of all her kmd, My chaster Muse for shame doth blush to ^vri(o : But at her rompe she growing had behind A foxes taile, with dong all fowly dight : And eke her feete most monstrous were in sight ; For one of them was hke an eagles claw. With griping talaunts armd to greedy fight ; The other Uke a beares uneven paw : More ugly shape yet never living creatm:e saw. XLIX. Which when the Knights beheld, amazd they were, And wondred at so fowle deformed wight. " Such then," said Una, " as she seemeth here, Such is the face of Falshood ; such the sight Of fowle Duessa, when her borrowed light Is laid away, and counterfesaunce knowne." Thus when they had the Witch disrobed quight. And all her filthy feature open showne. They le.t her goe at will, and wander waies un- knowne. I.. Shoe, flying fast from heavens hated face. And from the world that her discovered wide. Fled to the wastfuU wildernesse apace. From living eies her open shame to hide ; And lurkt in rocks and caves, long unespide. But that fau-e crew of Knights, and Una faire, Bid in that castle afterwards abide. To rest themselves, and weary powres repaare : Where store they fownd of al, that dainty was and CANTO IX. His loves and linage Arthure tells; The KnijihtH knitt frirndly bandat Sir Trevisan flies from Deapeyre, Whom RedcroB Knight withstandB. T. ! GOODLY golden chaynej wherewith yfcFO The vertues linked are in lovely wize ; And noble mindes of yore allyed were, In brave poursuitt of ehevalrous emprize, That none did others safety despize, Nor aid envy to him, in need that stands ; But friendly each did others praise devize, How to advaunce with favourable hands, As this good Prince redeemd the Redcrosse Knight from bands, n. Who when their powres, empayrd through labor With dew repast they had recured well, [long ; And that weake captive wight now wexed strong ; Them hst no lenger there at leasure dwell, But forward fare, as their adventures fell : But, ere they parted, Una faire besought That straunger Knight his name and nation tell ; Least so great good, as he for her had wrought, Should die unknown, and buried be in thankles thought. XLIX. 6.- counterfesaunce] Counierfeiling, disaima- lation. Church. " 1. yfere] In company^ together. Upton. OANTO IX.] THE FAERIE Q,UEENE. 45 " Faire Virgin," said the Prince, " yee me require A thing without the compas of my -mtt : For both the hgnage, and the certein sire. From which I sprong, from mee are hidden jitt. For all so soone as life did me admitt Into this world, and shewed hevens light, Fi'om mother's pap I taken was unfitt. And streight deUver'd to a Fary Knight, To be upbrought in gentle thewes and martiall might. " Unto old Timon he me brought bylive ; Old Timon, who in youthly yeares hath beeno In warlike feates th' expertest man aUve, And is the wisest now on earth I weene : His dwelling is, low in a valley greene. Under the foot of Eam-an mossy hore. From whence the river Dee, as silver cleene, His tombliBg billowes rolls with gentle rore ; There all my dales he traind me up in vertuous lore. " Thether the great magicien Merlin came. As was his use, ofttimes to visitt mee ; For he had charge my discipline to frame, And tutors nouriture to oversee. Him oft and oft I askt in privity. Of what loines and what lignage I did spring. Whose aunswere bad me stiU assured bee, •That I was sonne andheire unto a king, [bring." As time in her iust term the truth to Ught should " Well worthy impe," said then the Lady gent, •' And pupU fitt for such a tutors hand ! But what adventure, or what high intent, Hath brought you hether into Fary land, Aread, Prince Arthure, crowne of martiall band V " Full hard it is," quoth he, " to read aright The com'se of heavenly cause, or understand The secret meaning of th' Etemall Might, That rules mens waies, and rules the thoughts of living wight. VIT. " For whether He, through fatal deepe foresight. Me hither sent, for cause to me unghest ; Or that fresh bleeding wound, which day and night Whilome doth rancle in my riven brest. With forced fury following his behest. Me hether brought by wayes yet never found ; You to have helpt I hold myself yet tlest." "Ah! courteous Knight," quoth she, "what secret wound [ground?" Could ever find to grieve the gentlest b'^'t on " Dear Dame," quoth he, " you sleeping spajcKes awake. Which, troubled once,into huge flames will grow ; Ne ever will their fervent fury slake. Till living moysture into smoke do flow. And wasted life doe lye in ashes low. Yet sithens silence lesseneth not my fire. rij. 9. in gentle thewes] In genteel accomplish- ments. Church. vr. 1. Well worthy impe] Impels child, derived per- haps from the "Welch imp, a shoot or sucker. Todd. But, told, it flames ; and, hidden, it does glow ; I will revele what ye so much desire : Ah ! Love, lay down tliy bow, the whiles I may respyre. IX. " It was in freshest flowre of youthly yeares. When corage first does creepe in manly chest ; Then first that cole of kindly heat appeares To kindle love in every Hving brest : But me had waa-nd old Timons wise behest. Those creeping flames by reason to subdew. Before their rage grew to so great unrest. As miserable lovers use to rew, [new Which still wex old in woe, whiles woe stil wexetU " That ydle name of love, and lovers life. As losse of time, and vertues enimy, I ever scoi-n'd, and ioyd to stirre up strife. In middest of their moumfull tragedy ; Ay wont to laugh, when them I heard to cry. And blow the fire, which them to ashes brent ; Their god himselfe, grievd at my libertie, Sliott .Tiany a dart at me with fiers intent ; But I them warded all with wary government. XI. " But all in vaine ; no fort can be so strong, Ne fleshly brest can armed be so sownd. But will at last be wonne with battrie long. Or vmawares at disadvantage fownd : Nothing is sure that growes on earthly gro^vnd. And who most trustes in arme of fleshly might. And boastes in beauties chaine not to be bownd. Doth soonest fall in disaventrous fight, And yeeldes his caytive neck to victours most despight. xir. ' Ensample make of him your haplesse ioy And of my selfe now mated, as ye see ; Whose prouder vaunt that proud avenging boy Did soone pluck downe, and curbd my libertee. For on a day, prickt forth with ioUitee Of looser life and heat of hardiment, Raunging the forest wide on courser free, [sent. The fields, the floods, the heavens, with one con- Did seeme to laugh on me, and favour mine intent " Forwearied with my sportes, I did alight From loftie steed, and downe to sleepe me layd The verdant gras my couch did goodly dight. And pillow was my helmett fayre displayd : Whiles every sence the humour sweet embayd. And slombring soft my hart did steale away. Me seemed, by my side a royaU Mayd Her daintie limbes full softly down did lay : So fayre a creature yet saw never sunny day. " Most goodly glee and lovely blandishment She to me made, and badd me love her deare ; For dearely sure her love was to me bent. As, when iust time expired, should appeare. But, whether dreames delude, or true it were, Was never hart so ravisht with dehght, Ne living man like wordes did ever heare, srir. K Forwearied] Over fatiuved. Chirch. 4S THE FAERIE QUEENE. [book As she to me delivered all that night ; And at her pai-ting said, She Q,ueene of Faries hight. XV. " When I awoke, and found her place devoyd, And nought but pressed gras where she had lyen, I sorrowed all bo much as earst I ioyd. And washed all her place with wati'y eyen. From that day forth I lov'd that face divyne ; From that day forth I cast in carefuU myu'^. To seek her out with labor and long tyne. And never vowd to rest till her I fynd : Nyne monethes I seek in vain, yet ni'U that vow nnbynd." xvr. Tlius as he spake, his visage wexed pale. And chaunge of hew great passion did bewi'ay ; Yett still he strove to cloke his inward bale, And hide the smoke that did his fire display ; Till gentle Una thus to him gan say ; " happy Queene of Faries, that hast fownd, Mongst many, one that with his prowesse may Defend thine honour, and thy foes confownd ! True loves are often sown, but seldom grow on gro^vnd." xvir. " Thine, ! then," said the gentle Redcrosse Knight, " Next to that Ladies love, shal be the place, fftjTest Virgin, full of heavenly light. Whose wondrous faith, exceeding earthly race. Was firmest fixt in myne extremest case. And you, my Lord, the patrone of my life. Of that gi-eat Queene may well gaine worthie grace ; For onely worthie you through prowes pi-iefe, Yf livuig man mote worthie be, to be her liefe." XVIII. So diversly discoursing of their loves. The golden simne his glistring head gan shew. And sad remembraunce now the Prince amoves With fresh desire his voyage to pursew : Als Una earnd her traveill to renew. Then those two Knights, fast frendshipfor to bynd. And love establish each to other trew, Gave goodly gifts, the signes of gratefuU mynd. And eke, as pledges finne, right hands together ioynd. xrx. Prince Arthur gave a boxe of diamond sure Embowd with gold and gorgeous ornament. Wherein were closd few drops of liquor pm'e. Of wondrous worth, and vertue excellent. That any wownd could heale incontinent. Wiiich to requite, the Redcrosse Knight him gave A Booke, wherein his Saveours Testament Was wi'itt with golden letters rich and brave ; A worke of wondrous grace, and hable soules to save. x:v. 9. She Quccne of Faries bight] Was called. Todd. XV. 8. ^nrf neye>' vowd io rwf] That is, as Mr. Church Interprets, " And vow'd never to rest." Toon. XVI. 2. passion] Commution, disorder. Church, xvnr. 3. amoves] Moves. Ujton. xviir. 5. Als] Also, Todd. Kx. 2. Embowd] Arched, 2LTCnViin5,licnl Vike a bote : '•' A box having a vaulted cover of gold." T. Warton. Thus beene they parted ; Arthur on his way To seeke his love, and th' other for to fight With Unaes foe, that all her roahne did pray. But she, now weighing the decayed plight And shi'uuken synewes of her chosen Knight, Would not a while her forward course pursew, Ne bring him forth in face of dreadfuU fight. Till he recovered had his former vew : For him to be yet weake and weai'ie well she knew. XX[. So as they traveild, lo ! they gan espy An armed Knight towards them gallop fast. That seemed from some feared foe to fly. Or other griesly thing, tlaat him aghast. Still, as he fledd, his eye was backward east. As ii' his feare still followed him behynd : Als flew his steed, as he his bandes had brast. And with hia winged heeles did tread the wyud, As he had been a fole of Pegasus his kynd. Nigh as he drew, they might perceive his head To be unarmrt, and eurld uncombed heares Upstaring sfiffe, dismaid with uncouth dread : Nor drop of blood in all his face appeares. Nor life in limbe ; and, to increase his feares, In fowle reproch of knighthoodes fayre degi-ee, About his neck an hempen rope he weares. That mth his glistring armes does ill agree : But he of rope, or ai'mes, has now no memoree. The Redcrosse Knight toward him crossed fast. To weet what mister wight was so dismayd : There him he findes all sencelesse and aghast. That of himselfe he seemd to be afrayd ; Whom hardly he from flying forward stayd. Till he these wordes to him deliver might ; " Sir Knight, aread who hath ye tlius arayd. And eke from whom make ye this hasty flight ! For never Knight I saw in such misseeming plight." XXIV. He answerd nought at all ; but adding new Feare to his first amazment, staring wyde With stony eyes and hartlesse hollow hew, Astonisht stood, as one that had aspyde Infernall Furies with then- chaines untyde. Him yett againe, and yett againe, bespake The gentle Knight ; who nought to him replyde ;. But, trembling every ioynt, did inly quake, And folti-ing tongue at last these words seemd forth to shake ; XXV. " For Gods deare love. Sir Knight, doe me not stay; For loe ! he comes, he comes fast after mee ! " Eft lookuig back would faine have runne away ; XXI. 4 that him aghast.] That terrified him. Aghast is here used as a verb ; frequently he uses it 3» a participle. Church. XXI. 6. As if his feare] The thing which he feared Todd. xxrii. 2. To u'cet what mister wighf] To leam what manner of person, Ssc. CHimcH. XXV. 3. Eft looking back] Eft, afterwards, moreover, again. Church, CANTO IX.l THE FAERIE QUEENE. 47 But he him forst to stay, and tellen free The secrete cause of his perplexitie : Yet nathcmore by his hold hartie speach Could his blood-frosen haa-temholdnedbee, But through his boldiies rathei- fears did reach ; Yettj forstj at last he made through silence suddein breach ; XXVT. " And am T now in safetie sure," quoth he, " From him, that would have forced me to dye ? And is the point of death now turnd fro mee, That I may tell this haplesse history I " [nye." " Fear nought," quoth he, " no daimger now is " Then shall I you recount a niefull cace," Said he, " the which with this unlucky eye I late beheld ; and, had not greater grace Me reft from it, had bene partaker of the place. xxvir. " I lately chaunst (would I had never chaunst !) With a fayre Knight to keepen companee. Sir Terwin liight, that well himselfe advaunst In all affayres, and was both bold and free ; But not so happy as mote happy bee : He lov'd, as was his lot, a Lady gent. That him againe lov'd in the least degree ; For she was proud, and of too high mtent, And ioyd to see her lover languish and lament ; XXVIIT. " From whom retourning sad and comfortlesse. As on the way together we did fare. We met that Villen, (God from him me blesse ! ) That cursed wight, from whom T scapt whyleare, A man of hell, that calls himselfe Dcspayre : Wlio first us greets, and after fajTe areedes Of tydinges straunge, and of adventures rare : So creepmg close, as snake in hidden weedes, Inquireth of our states, and of our knightly deedes. xxrx. " Which when he knew, and felt our feeble harts Embost with bale, and bitter byting griefe. Which love had launched with his deadly darts ; With woimding words, and termes of foule re- priefe. He pluckt from us all hope of dew reliefe. That earst us held in love of Imgring life : Then hopelesse, hartlesse, gan the cunning thiefe Perswade us dye, to stint all further strife j To me he lent this'rope, to him a rusty knife : " With which sad instrument of hasty death. That wofuU lover, loathing longer light, A wyde way made to let forth living breath. But I, more fearfull or more lucky wight, Dismayd with that deformed dismall sight, Fledd fast away, halfe dead with dying feare ; Ne yet assur'd of hfe by you. Sir Knight, Whose like infirmity like chaunce may beare : But God you never let his charmed speaches heare I " XXXI. " How may a man," said he, "with idle speach Be wonne to spoyle the castle of his health ? " XXV. 6. Yi't natliemore] Not the more. Todd. xxvH 6. a Lady gent,] Gent is accomplished, hand- some. Todd. xxrx. 2. Embost, &c.] Overwhelmed with sorro'ii'. Church. « I wote," quoth he, " whom tryall late did teach, That like would not for all this worldcs wealth. His subtile tong, hke droppmg honny, raealt'h Into the heart, and searcheth every vaine ; That, ere one be aware, by secret stealth His powre is reft, and wealmes doth remains. never, Su-, desii'e to try his guilofull trauie ! " XXXTI. " Certes," sayd he, "hence shall I never rest, Till I that Treachours art have heard and tryde : And you. Sir Knight, whose name mote I request. Of grace do me unto his cabin guyde." " I, that hight Trevisan," quoth he, " will ryde. Against my liking, backe to doe you grace ; But not for gold nor glee will I abyde By you, when ye arrive in that same place ; For lever had I die then see his deadly face." Ere long they come, where that same wicked wight His dwelling has, low in an hollow cave. Far underneath a ci'aggy cliff ypight, Darke, dolefull, dreary, like a greedy grave. That still for carrion carcases doth crave : On top whereof ay dwelt the ghastly ov/le. Shrieking his balefull note, which ever drave Far from that haunt all other chearefuU fowle ; And all about it wandring ghostes did wayle and howle : XXXIV. And all about old stockes and stubs of trees. Whereon nor fruit nor leafe was ever seen. Did hang upon the ragged rocky knees ; On which had many ^vretches hanged beene. Whose carcases were scattred on the greene. And throwne about the cliffs. Arrived there. That bare-head Knight, for dread and dolefull teene, [neare ; Would faine have fled, ne durst approchen But til' other forst him sta^'e, and comforted in feare. XXXV. That darkesome cave they enter, where they find That cursed man, low sitting on the ground. Musing full sadly in his suUein mind : His griesie lockes, long growen and unbound, Disordred hong about his shoulders round. And hid his face ; through which his hollow eyne Lookt deadly dull, and stared as astound ; His raw-bone cheekes, through penurie and pine, Were slu'onke into his iawes, as he did never dine. His garment, nought but many ragged clouts. With thomes together pind and patched was, Tiie which his naked sides he wrapt abouts : And him beside there lay upon the gras A dreary corse, whose life away did pas. All wallowd in his own yet luke-warme blood. That from his wound yet welled fresh, alas ! In which a rusty knife fast fixed stood. And made an open passage for the gushing flood. xxxri. 2. that Treachours] Treachour, treachetour, traitor. Gall, tricheiir. Cftov. xxxri. 9. For lever had I die ic] I had rattier die tliaa &c. Church. xxxTii. 3. ypight,] Pif/ht is frequent in Spenser for plai^d, fixed. Todd. 48 THE FAERIE QUEENE. [book I xxxvrr. Which piteous spectacle, approving trew The wofuU tale that Trevisan had told, Whenas the gentle Redcrosse Knight did vew ; With firie zeale he burnt in courage bold Him to avenge, before his blood were cold ; And to the Villein sayd ; " Thou damned wight, The authour of this fact we here behold, What iustice can but iudge against thee right, With thine owne blood to price his blood, here shed in sight I " XXXVII, "What franticke fit," quoth he, "hath thus dis- traught Thee, foolish man, so rash a doome to give ? What iustice ever other judgement taught. But he should dye, who merites not to live ? None els to death this man despayring drive But his owne guiltie mind, deserving death. Is then uniust to each his dew to give ? Or let him dye that loatheth living breath ? Or let him die at ease, that liveth here uneath 1 xxxrx. " Who travailes by the wearie wandring way, To come unto his wished home in haste. And meetes a ilood, that doth his passage stay ; Is not great grace to helpe him over past. Or free his feet that in the myre sticlie fast ? Most envious man, that grieves at neighbours good ; And fond, that ioyest in the woe thou hast ; Why wilt not let him passe, tliat long hath stood Upon the bancke, yet wilt thy selfe not pas the flood? XL. ." He there does now enioy etemall rest [crave. And happy ease, which thou doest want and And further from it daily wanderest : What if some little payne the passage have. That makes frayle flesh to feare the bitter wave ; Is not short payne well borne, that bringes long ease. And layes the soule to sleepe in quiet grave ? Sleepe after toyle, port after stormie seas. Ease after warre, death after life, does greatly please." XLI. The Knight much wondred at his suddeine wit. And sayd ; " The terme of life is limited, Ne may a man prolong, nor shorten, it ; The souldier may not move from watchfull sted. Nor leave his stand xmtill his captaiue bed." " Who life did limit by Almightie doome," Quoth he, "knowes best the termes established ; And he, that points the centonell his roome. Doth license him depart at sound of morning droome. xxxvir. 9- With thing owne blood to price his blood, &g.] That is, to pay the price of his blood with thine. Ital. prezzare. TJpton, xxxviii. 9. uneath ?] Scarcely. Todd. xxxix. 4. to helpe him over past,] That is, to help him pass over ; past for pass, because of the rhyme. Church. Xxxix. 7. And fond,] Foolish tTprow. XLI. 1. ■ his suddeine wit,'] His ready wit. Chitrch. XLI. 4. -/rom watchfull stud,'} Place or station, j a word of frequent occurrence in Spenser. Todd. "Is not His deed, what ever thing is donne In heaven and earth ? Did not He all create To die againe I All ends, that was begonne : Their times in His etemall booke of fate Are written sure, and have their certein date. Wlio then can strive with strong necessitie. That holds the world in his still ehauuging state , Or shunne the death ordaynd by destinie ! When houi'e of death is come, let none aske whence, nor why. " The lenger life, I wote the greater sin ; The greater sin, the greater punishment : All those great battels, which thou boasts to win Through strife, and blood-shed, and avengement, Now praysd, hereafter deare thou shalt repent : For life must life, and blood must blood, repay. Is not enough thy evill life forespent ? For he that once hath missed the right way, The further he doth goe, the furtlier he doth sti'ay. " Then doe no further goe, no further stray ; But here ly downe, and to thy rest betake, Th' ill to prevent, that life ensewen may. For what hath life, that may it loved make. And gives not rather cause it to forsake ? Feare, sicknesse, age, losse, labour, sorrow, strife, Payne, hunger, cold that makes the heart to And ever fickle fortune rageth rife ; [quake ; All which, and thousands mo, do make a loathsome fife. " Thou, wretched man, of death hast greatest need, If in true ballaunce thou wilt weigh thy state ; For never Knight, that dared warhke deed. More luckless dissaventures did amate : Witnes the dungeon deepe, wherein of late Thy life shutt up for death so oft did call ; And though good lueke prolonged hath thy date. Yet death then would the like mishaps forestall. Into the which hereafter thou maist happen fall. " Why then doest thou, O man of sin, desire To draw thy dayes forth to their last degree 1 Is not the measm'e of thy sinfull hire High heaped up with huge iniquitee. Against the day of wrath, to burden thee ! Is not enough, that to this Lady mild Thou falsed hast thy faith with periuree. And sold thy selfe to serve Duessa vUd, With whom in all abuse thou hast thy selfe defild I " Is not He iust, that all this doth behold From highest heven, and beares an equall eie I Shall He thy sins up in His knowledge fold. And guilty be of thme impietie ! Is not His law, Let every sinner die. Die shall all flesh ? What then must needs be Is it not better to doe willinglie, [donne. XLV. 4. More luckless dissaventures did amate :] D'isa' ventures, misfortunea Span. Desveniura. Ital. Disav- Ventura. Amate is here used by Spenser in the sense o( subdue or daunt. Todd. xLvj. 7. Thou falsed haH^TIaslbroke, madc/alse.VeTO»- L'ANTO X.] THE FAERIE QUEENE. 49 Then linger till theglasbe all out ronne 1 Death is the end of woes : Die soone, Fai-ies Sonne." The Knight was much enmored with his speaeh. That as a swords poynt through his hart did perse, And in his conscience made a secrete breach. Well laiowing trew all that he did rehevse. And to his fresh remembraunce did reverse The ugly vew of his deformed crimes ; That all his manly powres it did disperse. As he were charmed with inchaunted rimes ; That oftentimes he quakt, and fainted oftentimes. In which amazement when the Miscreaunt Perceived him to waver weake and fraile. Whiles trembling horror did his conscience daunt, And hellish anguish did his soule assaile ; To drive him to despaire, and quite to quaile, Hee shewd him painted in a table plains The damned ghosts, that doe in toi-ments waile. And thousand feends, that doe them endlesse .paine With fire and brimstone, which for ever shall re- maine. L. The sight whereof so throughly him dismaid. That nought but death before his eies he saw, And ever burning wrath before him laid, By righteous sentence of th' Almighties law. Then gan the Villein him to overcraw. And brought raito him swords, ropes, poison, fire. And all that might him to perdition draw ; And bad him choose, what death he would desire : For death was dew to him, that had provokt Gods But, whenas none of them he saw him take. He to him raught a dagger sharpe and keene. And gave it him in hand : his hand did quake And tremble like a leafe of aspin greene, And troubled blood through his pale face was seene To come and goe, with tidings from the heart, As it a ronning messenger had beene. At last, resolv'd to work his finall smart, He Ufted up his hand, that backe againe did start. LTr. Which whenas Una saw, through every vaine The erudled cold ran to her well of life. As in a swowne : but, soone reliv'd agame. Out of his hand she snatcht the cursed knife. And threw it to the ground, enraged rife, And to him said ; " Fie, fie, faint hearted Knight, What meanest thou by this reprochfuU strife ? XLviil. 5. did reverse] In Hughes's imperfect Glossary to Spenser, we find reverse (Lat. reveri.ere) to re- turn. But here reverse signifies, not to return, hut to cause to return. Jortin. xLix. 5. to quaile,] Subdue, altered from gurll, as guayii also appears to he,P. Q. i. viii. 14. Belg. quellen, subigere. Qiiriiis likewise used for to rffsiroy or JhVJ. Todd. XLIX. 0. in a tahle] A picture. Lat. Talula. Church. I,. 5 to overcraw,] Crow over, or insult. Fpelfc overcraw for the sake of the rhyme. Todd. Lii. a. tut, soone reliv'd] Brought to life again. Is this the battaile, which thou vauntst to fight With that fire-mouthed Dragon, horrible and bright \ LIU. " Come ; come away, fraile, feeble, fleshly wight, Ne let vaine words bewitch thy manly hart, Ne divelish thoughts dismay thy constant spright : In heavenly mercies hast thou not a part ? Why shouldstthou then despeire,that chosen art \ Where iustice growes, there grows eke greater grace, [smart. The which doth quench the brond of hellish And that accurst hand-writing doth deface : Arise, sir Knight ; arise, and leave this cursed place." I,IV. So up he rose, and thence amounted stroight. Which when the Carle beheld, and saw his guest Would safe depart, for all his subtile sleight ; He chose an halter from among the rest. And with it hong himselfe, unbid, unblest. But death he could not worke himselfe tliereby ; For thousand times he so himselfe had drest. Yet nadielesse it could not doe him die, Till he should die his last, that is, eternally. CANTO X. Her faithful! Knisht faire Una brings To House of Holincsse ; Where he is taupht repentaunce, and The way to hevenly hlesee. What man is he, that boasts of fleshly miglit And vaine assurance of mortality. Which, all so soone as it doth come to fight Against spiri'tuall foes, yields by and by. Or from the fielde most cowardly doth fly ! Ne let the man ascribe it to his skill. That thorough grace hath gained victory : If any strength we have, it is to ill ; But all the good is Gods, both power and elte will. By that which lately hapned, Una saw That this her Knight was feeble, and too faint ; And all his sinewes woxen weake and raw. Through long enpi-isonment, and hard constramt. Which he endured in his late restraint. That yet he was unfitt for bloody fight. Therefore to cherish him with diets daint. She cast to bring him, where he chearen might. Till he recovered had his late decayed plight. frr. There was an auncient House not far away, Renowmd throughout the world for sacred lore And pm-e unspotted life : so well, they say. It governd was, and guided evermore. Through wisedome of a Matrone grave and hore ; Whose onely ioy was to relieve the needes Liv. 2. tlie Carle] The Churl. A word often used hy Spenser. Todd. Liv. S. • unhid,] Without saying his prayer.^. Chaucer uses hede, to pray. Thus Beads-men are prayer- men. Anglo-Sax. Biddan, orare. Upton. II. 8. where he chearen might,] " Where Uo chearen might," I e. where he might be chearei. UiTo.v. iU TIIK FAERIE Q,UEENE. [rooK I. Of wretched soules, and helpe tlie helpelesse pore ; All night she spent in bidding of her bedes, And all the day in doing good and godly deedes. IV. Dame Cielia men did her call, as thought From heaven to come, or thether to arise ; The mother of three Daughters, well upbrought In goodly thewes, and godly exercise : The eldest two, most sober, chast, and wise, Fidelia and Speranza, Virgins were ; Though spousd, yet wanting wedlocks solemnize ; But faire Charissa to a lovely fere Was lincked, and by him had many pledges dere. V. Arrived there, the dore they find fast lockt ; For it was warely watched night and day. For feare of many foes ; but, when they Imockt, The porter opened unto them streight way. He was an aged syre, all hory gray. With lookes full lowly cast, and gate full slow. Wont on a stafFe his feeble steps to stay, Hight Humilta. They passe m, stouping low ; For sti'eight and narrow was the way which he did show. vr. Each goodly thing is hardest to begin ; But, entred in, a spatious court they see. Both plaine and pleasaunt to be walked in ; Where them does meete a franckhn faire and free. And entertaines with comely courteous glee ; His name was Zele, that him right well became: For in his speaches and behaveour hee Did labour lively to expresse the same. And gladly did them guide, till to the hall they came. There fayrely them receives a gentle squyre. Of myld demeanure and rare courtesee. Right cleanly clad in comely sad attyre ; In word and deede that shewd great modestee. And knew his good to all of each degree ; Hight Reverence : He them with speaches meet Does faire entreat ; no courting nicetee. But simple, trew, and eke unfained sweet, A s might become a squyi'e so great persons to greet. virT. And afterwardes them to his Dame he leades. That aged Dame, the Lady of the place. Who all this while was busy at her beades ; Which doen, she up arose with seemely grace. And toward them full matronely did pace. Where, when that fairest Una she beheld. Whom well she Imew to spring from hevenly Her heart with ioy unwonted inly sweld, [race. As feeling wondrous comfort in her weaker eld : IV. 8. to a lovely fere] Fere is here employed for husband, asin Chaucer it is useil for wife. Todd. vr. 4. a franeklin faire and free,'] A fravcklin is a person of some distinction in our ancient history. He m^kes a conspicuous figure in Chaucer; and his mazmere bespealc his wealth. Todd. vir. 3. in comely sad attyre ;"} In grave, decent, attyre. Todd. vM. 5. And knew his good iic.] That is, he knew how to behave himself, or could hehave himself suitably, &c. Church, And, her embracing, said ; " happy earth. Whereon thy innocent feet doe ever tread ! Most vertuous Virgin, bovue of hevenly berth, That, to redeemc thy woofull Parents head From tyrans rage and ever-dying dread. Hast wandred tliroughthe world now long a day, Yett ceassest not thy weary soles to lead ; [way 1 What grace hath thee now hetlier brought tliia Or doen thy feeble feet unweeting hether stray % " Straunge thing it is an errant Knight to see Here in this place ; or any other wight, That hether turnes his steps : So few there bee. That chose the narrow path, or seeke tlie right ! All keepe the broad high way, and take delight With many rather for to goe astray. And be partakers of their evill plight, Then with a few to walke the rightest way : ! foolish men, why hast ye to your own decay !" " Thy selfe to see, and tyred limbes to rest, Matrone sage," quoth she, " I hether came ; And this good Knight his way with me addrest, Ledd with thy prayses, and broad-blazed fame. That up to heven is blowne." The auncient Dame Him goodly greeted in her modest guyse. And enterteynd them both, as best became. With all the court'sies that she could devyse, Ne wanted ought to shew her bounteous or wise. Thus as they gan of sondrie thinges devise, Loe ! two most goodly Virgins came in place, Ylinked arme in arme, in lovely wise ; With countenance demure, and modest grace. They numbred even steps and equall pace : Of which tlie eldest, that Fidelia hight. Like simny beames threw from her christall fa. Faytor] Factor ia a law-term : A vaga- bond, idlcfellou}. Fr. Faitard. Church. XXXVII. .1. The housling fire] That is, the sacramental fire, or fire used in the sacrament of marriaKe. Upton Dunng the which there was an heavenly noise Heard sownd through all the pallaco pleasantly, Like as it had bene many an angels voice Singing before th' Eternall Maiesty, In their trinall triplicities on hye : Yett mst no creature whence that hevenly sweet Proceeded, yet each one felt secretly Himselfe thereby refte of his sences meet, And ravished with rare impression in Jus sprite. XL. Great ioy was made that day of young and old, And solemne feast proclaymd througliout the land, That their exceeding merth may not be told : Suffice it heare by signes to understand The usuall ioyes at knitting of loves band. Thrise happy man the Knight himselfe did hold, Possessed of his Ladies hart and hand ; And ever, when his eie did her behold. His heart did seeme to melt in pleasures manifold, xr.r. Her ioyous presence, and sweet company. In full content he there did long enioy ; Ne wicked envy, ne vile gealosy. His deare delights were liable to annoy : Yet, swimming in that sea of blissfull ioy. He nought forgott how he whilome had sworne, In case he could that monstrous Beast destroy. Unto his Faery Queene backe to retourne ; The which he shortly did, and Una left to mourno. Now, sti*i]ce your sailes, yee ioUy mariners. For we be come unto a quiet rode. Where we must land some of our passengers, And light this weary vessell of her lode. Here she a while may make her safe abode, Till she repau-ed have her tackles spent. And wants supplide ; and then againe abroad On the long voiage whereto she is bent : Well may she speede, and fairely finish her intent [Our poet having hrniigh t his vessel into harbour, to refit and repair ; let us, like travellprs, talk over the wonders we have seen, and the regions we have passed over of fable, mystery, and allegory. However the wise, and the grave, may nffect to despise wonderful tales ; yet well related, with novelty and variety, they work upon the heart by secret charms and philters, and never fail both to surprise and to delight. But delight and entertainment are not all; for a good poet should instruct ; not in the n.irration of particular facts, like an historian ; but in exhibitinguniversal truths, as a philosopher : by showing the motives, causes, and springs of action ; by bringing before your eyes trith in her lovely form, and error in her loathsome and filthy shape; dkceit should be stripped, and hvpociusv laid open : and, while wonderful stories and representations of visionary images engage the fancy, the poet should all along intend these only as initiations into the more sacred mysteries of morals and religion. Lest you should object to the probability of his stories, the poet names the time, when these wonders were per- formed, viz. during the minority of Prince Arthur ; and mentions the very persons who performed them ; Frinco Arthur, St. George, Sir Satyrane, Archimago, &c. nay, he points out the very places, wherein the adventures were achieved. If after so circumstantial a recital of timo, place. CANTO I.] THE FAERIE QUEENE. 65 and persons, you will still not believe him, you must be enrolled, I think, among the very miscreants; for as to his wonderful taleeof enchantments, witches, apparitions, &c. all this is easily accounted for by supernatural assist- ance. This first book bears a great resemblance to a tragedy, with a catastrophe not unfortunate. The Redcrosse Knipht and tJna appear together on the stage ; nothing seeming to thwai't their happiness ; but, by the plots and pains of Archimago, they are separated; hence suspicions and distresses : She with difficulty escapes from a lawless Sarazin and Satyrs, and he is actually made a prisoner by a merciless Giant : When unexpectedly Prince Arthur, like some god in a machine, appears, and releases the Kniglit; who becomes a new man, and with new joy is contracted to his ever-faithful tJna. If we consider the persons or characters in the drama, we shall find them all consistent with themselves, yet masterly opposed and contrasted : The simplicity and innocence of Una may be set in opposition to the flaunting falsehood of the Scarlet Whore : The pious Ivnight is diametrically opposite to the impious Sarazin : the sly hypocrite Archimago differs from the sophist Despair. And even in laudable characters, if there is a sameness, yet too there is a difference; as in the magnificence of Prince Arthur, in the plainness of the Christian Knight, and in the honest behaviour of Sir Satyrane. How well adapted to their placesare tlie paintings of the various scenes and decorations I Some appear horrible, aa the den of Error; Hell; theGiant; thecaveof Despair; the Dragon, &c. : others terrible and wimderfcil, as the magical cottage of Archimago; the pluckingof the bloody bough ; the Sarazin's supernatural rescue and cure, -^c. : others are of the pastoral kind, as the pleasing prospects of the woods, and diversions of the wood-burn people, with old Sylvanus ; or magnificent, as the description of Prince Arthur, and the solemnizing of the contract of marriage between the Knight and Una. The scene lies chiefly in Fairy land, {though we have a view of the house of Morpheus, in the first canto, and of hell in the fifth,) and changes to the land of Eden, in the eleventh and twelfth cantos. Should we presume to lift up the mysterious veil, wrought with such subtle artand ornament, as sometimes to seem utterly to hide, sometimes lying so transparent, as to be seen through ; should we take ufF, I say, this fabnbms covering ; under it we might discover a most useful moral : The beauty of truth ,• the foulness of error ,- sly hypocrisy ; the pride and cruelty of false religion ; holi7iess completed in virtues ; and the church , ;/ not in its triumphant, yet in its triumphing, state. Spenber, in his letter to Sir W. R., tells us his poem is a continued allegory : Where therefore the moral allubion cannot be made apparent, we must seelt (as I imagino) for an his- torical allusion ; and always we must look for more than meets the eye or ear ; the words carrying one meanmg with them, and the secret sense another, Upton.] THE SECOND BOOK OP THE FAERIE QUEENE; CONTAVNING THE LEGEND OP SIR GUYON, OR OF TEMPERAUNCE. Right well I wote, most mighty Soyeraine, That all this famous Antique history Of some th' aboundance of an ydle brains Will iudged be, and painted forgery. Rather then matter of iust memory ; Sith none that breatlieth Uving aire doth know Where is that happy land of Faery, Which I so much doe vaunt, yet no where show ; But vouch antiquities, which no body can know. II. But let that man with better sence advize. That of the world least part to us is red ; And daily how through hardy enterprize Many great regions are discovered, _ Which to late age were never mentioned. Who ever heard of th' Indian Peru ? Or who in venturous vesseU measured The Amazon huge river, now found trew t Or fruitfulleat Vu^ghua who did ever vew I III. Yet all these were, when no man did them know. Yet have from wisest ages liidden beene ; [show. And later times tliinges more unknowne shall Why then should witlesse man so much misweene, That nothing is, but that which he hath seene ? What, if within the moones fayre shining spheare, What, if in every other starre unseeiie Of other worldes he happily should heare ! He wonder would much more ; yet such to some appeare. IV. Of Faery lond yet if he more inquyre. By certein signes, here sett in sondrie place. He may it fynd ; ue let him then admyre. But yield his sence to bee too blunt and bace. That no'te without an hoimd fine footing trace. And thou, fayrest Prmcesse mider sky, In this fayre inirrhour maist behold thy face, And thine owne realmes in lond of Faery, And in this Antique ymage thy great auncestry. The wliich ! pardon me thus to enfold In covert vele, and wrapt in shadowes light, That feeble eyes your glory may behold. Which eUs could not endure those beamcs bright, IT, 1. . more] Greatly. The sense is. If he is greatly JeMrous to know what place is meant hy Fairy land. Church. G6 THE FAERIE QUEENE, [BOOK H. But would bee dazled with exceeding light. ! pardon, and Tonehsafe with patient eare The brave adventures of this Faery Knight, The good Sir Guyon, gratiously to heare ; In whom great rule of Temp'raunce goodly doth appeare. CANTO I. Guyon, by Archbuaffe abasd, The Redcrosse KniKht awaytea; Fyndea Mordant and AmavLa alaine With Fleasuiea poisoned baytea. That eonnmg Architect of cancred guyle. Whom Princes late displeasure left in bands. For falsed letters, and suborned wyle ; Soone as the Redcrosse Knight he understands To beene departed out of Eden landes. To serve againe his soveraine Elfin Q,ueene ; His artea he moves, and out of caytives haudes Himselfe he frees by secret meanes imseene ; His shackles emptie lefte, himselfe escaped cleene ; ir. And forth he fares, full of malicious mynd. To worken mischiefe, and avenging woe, Whereever he that godly Knight may fyud, His onely hart-sore and his onely foe ; Sith Una now lie algates must forgoe. Whom his victorious handes did earst restore To native crowne and kingdom late ygoe ; Where she enioyes sure peace for evermore, As wetherbeaten ship arryv'd on happie shore. Him therefore now the obiect of his spight And deadly food he makes : him to offend By forged treason, or by open fight. He seekes, of all his drifte the aymed end : Thereto his subtile engins he does bend, His practick witt and his fayre fyled tonge. With thousand other sleightes ; for well he kend His credit now in doubtfull ballaunce hong : For hardly could bee hurt, who was already stong. Still, as he went, he craftie stales did lay. With ciuming traynes him to entrap unwares. And privy spyals plast in all his way. To weete what course he takes, and how he fares ; To ketch him at a vauntage in his snares. But now so wise and wary was the Knight By tryaN of his former harmes and cares. That he descryde, and shonned still, his slight : The fish, that once was caught, new bayt wil hardly byte. n. 4. Ris onely &c.] Greatest. Church. II. 5. ■ algates] Wltolly, altogether. Todd. II. 7. . late ygoe ;] Lately. Church. lit. 2. And deadly food] That ia,feud. Todd. ui. 9. For hardly could bee fturi,] For hardly could \€ be hurt, &c. Todd, IV. 1. ■ stales] Devices, tricks. Todd. IV. 3. And privy spyals] Espials, or spies. Todd. rv. 6. at a vauntage in his snares."] To have the odds of him, to catch him completely in his snares. Fr. A Vavantage. Toddl Nath'lesse th' Euchaunter would not spare his payne. In hope to win occasion to his will ; Which when he long awaited had in vayne, He chaungd his mynd from one to other ill ; For to all good he enimy was still. Upon the way him fortuned to meete, Fayre marclung underneath a shady hill, A goodly Knight, all armd in harnesse meete, That from his head no place appeared to his feete. VI. His carriage was full comely and upright ; His countenance demure and temperate ; But yett so steme and teiTible in sight. That cheard his friendes, and did his foes amate : He was an Elfin borne, of noble state And mickle worship in his native land ; Well could he tourney, and in lists debate, And knighthood tooke of good Sir Huons hand, When with king Oheron he came to Fary land. Him aJs accompanyd upon tlie way A comely Palmer, clad in black attyre. Of rypest yeares, and heares all hoarie gray. That with a staffe his feeble steps did stire. Least his long way his aged limbes should tire ; And, if by lookes one may the mind aread, He seemd to be a sage and sober syre ; And ever with slow pace the Knight did lead, Who taught his trampling steed with equall steps to tread. viir. Such whenas Archimago them did view. He weened well to worke some rinoouth wyle : Eftsoones, untwisting his deoeiptfull clew. He gan to weave a web of wicked guyle ; And, with faire countenance and flattring style To them approching, thus the Knight bespake ; " Fayre sonne of Mars, that seeke with waiUke spoyle. And great atohiev'ments, great yourselfe to make, Vouchsafe to stay your steed for humble misers He stayd bis steed for humble misers sake. And badd tell on the tenor of his playnt : Who feigning then in every limb to quake Through inward feare, and seeming pale and faynt, [paynt ; With piteous mone his percing speach gan " Deare Lady ! how shall I declare thy caoe, Whom late I left in languorous constraynt ? Would God ! thyselfe now present were in place To tell this ruefuU tale : Thy sight could win thee grace : X. " Or rather would, ! would it so had chaunst, That you, most noble Sir, had present beene V. 8. all armd &c.] That is, armed eapa-pee. Church. Vi. 6. And mickle worship] Honour. The word is often so used by Spenser. Todd, VII. 4. did stire,] Stir, move. Lat movere. Chubch. VIII. 9. humble misers sake.] A poor miserdbit man's sake. Lat. mist'^ Cburcb. Canto i.J THE FAERIE QUEENE. 67 When that lewd rybauld,with vylelust advaunst. Laid first his filthie hauds on Virgin cleene. To spoyle her dainty corps, so faire and sheene As on the earth, great mother of us all, With living eye more fayre was never seene Of chastity and honour virginall : Witnes, ye heavens, whom she in vaine to help did caU! XI. " How may it be,"sayd then the Knighthalfe wroth, " That Knight should knighthood ever so have shentS" [for troth, " None but that saw," quoth he, " would weene How shamefully that Mayd he did torment : Her looser golden lockes he rudely rent. And drew her on the ground ; and his sharpe sword Against her snowy brest he fiercely bent. And threatned death with many abloodie word ; Tounge hates to tell the rest that eye to see ab- hord." Therewith amoved from his sober mood, [act ? " And lives he yet," said he, " that wrought this And doen the heavens afford him vitaU food ? " " He lives," quoth he, " and boasteth of the fact, Ne yet hath any Knight his courage crackt." " Where may that treachour then," sayd he, "be found. Or by what meanes may 1 his footing tract 1 " " That shall I shew," said he, " as sure as hound The stricken deare doth chaleng by the bleeding wound." XIII. He stayd not longer talke, but with fierce yra And zealous haste away is quickly gone To seeke that Knight, where him that crafty Supposd to be. They do arrive anone [Squyre Where sate a gentle Lady all alone. With garments rent, and heare discheveled. Wringing her haudes, andmakingpiteous mono : Her swoUen eyes were much disfigured. And her faire face with teares was fowly blub- bered. xrv. The Knight, approching nigh, thus to her said ; " Faire Lady, through fowle sorrow iU bedight. Great pitty is to see you thus dismayd. And maire the blossom of your beauty bright : Forthy appease your griefe and heavy phght, And tell the cause of your conceived payne ; For, if he live that hath you doen despight, He shall you doe dew recompence agayne, Or els his wrong with greater puissance main- taine. " XV. Which when she heard, as in despightfull wise She wilfully her sorrow did augment. And offred hope of comfort did despise : Her golden lockes most cruelly she rent. And scratcht her face with ghastly dreriment ; X. 3. When tkat lewd rybanld, with vyle lust advaunBt,] Ribauld, Fr. A BGOundrel, a ruffian. Advaunst here TaQ2jisdriven/orward,impelledt 01 hastened, Fr. avanc(5. Todd. XI. 1. //OMJ may t( 6e,] That is. How can it be. Church, XII. 9. Tfte stricken deare] The wounded (itfer. Church. 33V. 5. Forthy] Ther^ore. Todd. Ne would she speake, ne see, ne yet be seene, But hid her visage, and her head downe bent. Either for gi-ievous shame, or for great teene. As if her hart with sorrow had transfixed beene : XVI. Till her that Squyre bespake ; " Madame, my liefe For Gods deare love be not so wilfull bent, But doe vouchsafe now to receive reliefe. The which good fortune doth to you present. For what bootes it to weepe and to wayment When ill is chaunst, but dotli the ill increase. And the weake minde with double woe torment V When she her Squyre heard speake, she gan Her voluntarie parne, and feele some secret ease. XVII. Eftsoone she said ; " Ah ! gentle trustie Squyre, What comfort can I, wofuU wretch, conceave ! Or why should ever I henceforth desyre To see faire heavens face, and Hfe not leave, Sith that false Traytour did my honour reave \ " " False traytour certes," saide the Faerie Knight, " I read the man, that ever would deceave A gentle Lady, or her wrong through might : Death were too Utle paine for such a fowle despight. " But now, fayre Lady, comfort to you make. And read who hath ye wrought this shamefull plight. That short revenge the man may overtake, Whereso he be, and soone upon liim light." " Certes," said she, " I wote not how he hight. But under him a gray steede he did wield. Whose sides with dapled circles weren dight ; Upright he rode, and in his silver slueld He bore a Bloodie Crosse, that quartred all the field." XIX. " Now by my head," saide Guyon, " much I muse. How that same Knight should doe so fowle amis, Or ever gentle DamzeU so abuse : For may I boldly say, he surely is A right good Knight, and trew of word ywis : I present was, and can it witnesse well. When armes he swore, and streight did enterpris Th' Adventure of the Errant Damozell ; In which he hath great glory wonne, as I heare tell. " Natlilesse he shortly shall againe be tryde, And fau-ely quit him of th' imputed blame ; Els, be ye sure, he dearely shall abyde. Or make you good amen(hnent for the same : An wrongs have mendes, but no amendes of shame . Now therefore. Lady, rise out of your paine. And see the salving of yaur blotted name." Full loth she seemd thereto, but yet did faine ; For she was inly glad her purpose so to gaine. Her purpose was not such as she did faine, Ne yet her person such as it was seene ; But under sunple shew, and semblant plaine, Lurkt false Duessa secretly miseene, XVI. 5 wayment] Bewail, lament. ITptom. XIX. 6. ywis :] Certainly, or truly. Todw, ^8 THE FAEEIE QUEENE. iBOOK II As a chaste Virgin that had wronged beene ; So had false Archimago her disguysd. To cloke her guile with sorrow and sad teene ; And eke himselfe had craftily devisd To he her Squire, and do her service well a^isd. Her, late forlome and naked, he had fount Where she did wander in waste wildernesse. Lurking in rockes and caves far under ground. And with greene mosse covering her nakednesse To hide her shame and loathly filthinesse, Sith her Prince Arthur of proud ornaments And borrowd beauty spoyld : Her nathelesse Th' Euchaunter finding fit for his intents Did thus revest, and deckt with dew habiliments. For all he did was to deceive good Knights, And draw them from pursuit of praise and fame To slug in slouth and sensuall dehghts. And end their dales with irrenowmed shame. And now exceeding griefe him overcame. To see the Redcrosse thus advaunced hye ; Therefore this craftie engine he did frame. Against his praise to stirre up enmitye Of such, as vertues Uke mote unto him allye. So now he Guyon guides an tincouth way Through woods and moimtaines, till they came Into a pleasant dale that lowly lay [at last Betwixt two hils, whose high heads, overplast. The valley did with coole shade overcast ; Through midst thereof a little river rold. By which there sate a Knight with helme unlaste, Himselfe refreshing with the hquid cold, After his travell long and labours manifold. " Lo ! yonder he," cryde Archimage alowd, " That ivrought the shamefuU fact which I did shew ; And now he doth himselfe in secret shrowd. To fly the vengeaunce for his outrage dew ; But vaine ; for ye shall dearely do him rew : (So God ye speed and send you good successe !) Which we far off will here abide to vew." So they him left inflam'd with wrathfulnesse. That streight against that Knight his speare he did addresse. Who, seeing him from far so fierce to pricke. His warlike armes about him gan embrace. And in the rest his ready speare did sticke ; Tho, whenas still he saw him towards pace. He gan rencounter him in equall race. They bene ymett, both ready to affrap, When suddeinly that Warriour gan abace His threatned speare, as if some new mishap Had liim betide, or hidden danger did entrap ; XXI. 9. wfiZi aguisd-j Accoutred, or dressed. Todd. XXII. 9. Did thus revest,] Revestir. Fr. reinvest, clothe or apparel again. Todd, XXIII. 3. To slug in slouth'] See Cotgrave's P. Diet "To slugge it, paressek, to laze it, to Hue idly." Todd. XXVI. 6. ready to affrap,] Encounter. Ital. afrap- fare. Fr. frapper. Urros. And cryde, "Mercie,Sir Knight ! and mercie. Lord, For mine offence and heedelesse hardiment, That had almost committed crime abhord. And with reprochfull shame mine honour shent. Whiles cursed Steele against that Badge I bent. The sacred Badge of my Redeemers death. Which on your shield is set for ornament !" But his fierce foe his steed could stay uneath. Who, prickt with courage kene, did crueU battel! breath, XXVIII. But, when he heard him speake, streight way he knew His errour ; and, himselfe inclyning, sayd ; " Ah ! deare sir Guyon, well becommeth you, But me behoveth rather to upbrayd, Wliose hastie hand so far from reason strayd. That almost it did haynous violence On that fayre ymage of that heavenly Mayd, That decks and armes your shield with faire de. fence : Your court'sie takes on you anothers dew offence." So beene they both atone, and doen upreare Their bevers bright each other for to greet ; Goodly comportaunce each to other beare. And entertaine themselves with court'sies meet. Then said the Redcrosse Knight ; " Now mote Sir Guyon, why with so fierce saliaunce, [I weet. And fell intent, ye did at earst me meet ; For, sith I know your goodly gouveruaunce. Great cause, I weene, you guided, or some uncouth chaunce." XXX. "Certes," said he, "well mote I shame to tell The fond encheason that me hether led. A false infamous Faitour late befell Me for to meet, that seemed ill bested, And plajmd of grievous outrage, which he red A Knight had wrought against a Lady gent ; Which to avenge, he to this place me led, Where you he made the marke of his intent. And now is fled : foule shame him follow wher he went!" XXXI. So can he tume his earnest unto game. Through goodly handling and wise temperaimce. By this his aged Guide in presence came ; Who, soone as on that Knight his eye didglaimee, Eftsoones of him had perfect cognizaunce, Sith him ui Faery com't he late avizd ; [chaimce, And said ; " Fayre sonne, God give you happy XXVIII. 2. — himselfe inclyning,] Bowing. Todo. XXIX. 1. So beene they both atone,] That is, friends again ; at one, atoned, reconciled. Upton. XXIX. 6 saliaunce,] Assault or sally. Fr. saillior. TODD. ' — at earst] Lately. Church. well mote I shame] Well may I be Church, The fond encheason] The foolish occasion. XXIX. 7. XXX. 1. ashamed. XXX. 2. Church. XXX. 4. XXXI. 1 ill bested,] In bad plight. Chiibcb. So can he tume his earnest unto game,] ThiB familiar phrase is the language of romance. Can is here again used by Spenser for began. Todd, XXXI 6. avizd ;] Saw. Fr. aviser. Church, CANTO I.] THE FAERIE QUEENE. 69 And that deare Crosse uppon your shield devizd. Wherewith above all linights ye goodly seeme aguizd ! XXXII. " loy may you have, and everlasting fame. Of late most hard atchiev'ment by you donne. For which enrolled is your glorious name In heavenly regesters above the sunne, [wonne ! Where you a Saint with Saints your seat have But wretched we, where ye have left your marke. Must now anew begin like race to ronne. God guide thee, Guyon, well to end thy warke, And to the wished haven bring thy weary barke ! " " Palmer," him answered the Redcrosse Knight, " His be the praise, that this atcliiev'ment wrought. Who -made my hand the organ of His might ! More then goodwill to me attribute nought j For aU I did, I did but as I ought. But you, faire Sir, whose pageant next ensewes. Well mote yee thee, as well can wish your thought. That home ye may report thrice happy newes ! For well ye worthy bene for worth and gentle thewes." XXXfV. So courteous conge both did give and take. With right hands plighted, pledges of good will. Then Guyon forward gan his voyage make With his blacke Palmer, that liim guided still : Still he him guided over dale and hill. And with liis steedy staffe did point his way ; His race with reason, and with words his wiU, From fowle intemperaunce he ofte did stay. And suffred not in wrath his hasty steps to stray. In this faire wize they traveild long yfere, Through many hard assayes wliicli did betide ; Of which he honour still away did beare. And spred his glory through aU countryes wide. At last, as chaunst them by a forest side To passe, for succour from the scorching ray. They heard a ruefull voice, that deamly cride With percing shriekes and many a dolefull lay ; Which to attend, awhile their forward steps they stay. XX3CVI. " But if that carelesse hevens," quoth she, " despise The doome of lust revenge, and take delight To see sad pageaunts of mens miseries, Asbownd by them to hve in lives despight ; Yet can they not wame Death from wretched wight. [to me. Come, then ; come soone ; come, sweetest Death, And take away this long lent loathed light : [be, Sharpe be thy wounds, but sweete the medicines That long captived soules from weary thraldome free. XXXI. 9. aguizd !] Adorned. Todd. XXXIII. 7. Well mote yee thee,] Thrive, prosper. We find this expression often in our old poets. Upton. XXXIV. 1. So courteous cong^ &e.j Leave. Todd. XXXV. 7. that deamly cried^- That cried mourn- fully. Todd. XXX VI r. " But thou, sweete Babe, whom frowning froward fate Hath made sad witnesse of thy fathers fall, Sith heven thee deignes to hold in living state. Long maist thou live, and better thrive withall Then to thy lucklesse parents did befall ! Live thou ! and to thy mother dead attest. That cleare she dide from blemish criminall : Thy litle hands embrewd in bleeding brest Loe ! I for pledges leave ! So give me leave to rest!" With that a deadly shrieke she forth did throw That through the wood re-echoed againe ; And after gave a grone so deepe and low That seemd her tender hart was rent in twaine, Or thrild with point of thorough-piercing paine : As gentle hynd, whose sides with cruell Steele Through launched, forth her bleeding life does raine. Whiles the sad pang approchlng shee does feele, Braies out her latest breath, and up her eies doth seele. XXXIX. Which when that Warriour heard, dismounting straict From his tall steed, he rusht into the thick. And soone arrived where that sad Pourtraict Of death and dolour lay, halfe dead, halfe quick ; In whose white alabaster brest did stick A cruell knife that made a griesly wownd, [thick. From which forth gusht a stream of gore-blood That all her goodly garments staind arownd. And into a deepe sanguine dide the grassy grownd. XI.. Pitifull spectacle of deadly smart. Beside a bubling fountaine low she lay. Which shee increased with her bleeding hart. And the cleane waves with purple gore did ray : Als in her lap a lovely Babe did play His cruell sport, in stead of sorrow dew ; For in her streaming blood he did embay His litle hands, and tender ioints embrew : Pitifull spectacle, as ever eie did vew 1 Besides them both, upon the soiled graa The dead corse of an armed Knight was spred. Whose armour all with blood besprincled was ; His ruddy lips did smyle, and rosy red Did paint his chearefuU cheekes, yett being ded ; Seemd to have beene a goodly personage. Now in his freshest flowre of lustyhed, Fitt to inflame faire Lady with loves rage. But that fiers fate did crop the blossome of his age. Whom when the good Sir Guyon did behold. His hart gan wexe as starke as marble stone. And his fresh blood did frieze with fearefull cold, That all his sences seemd berefte attone : At last his mighty ghost gan deepe to grone. As Hon, grudging in his great disdaine, Moumes inwardly, and makes to himselfe mone XXXIX. 2. into the thick,] The thicket. Todd, XL. 4 did T&y ;] Vejile. Todd. THE FAERIE QUEENE. [bock h. Til ruth and fralle affection did constraine Hia stout course to stoupe, and shew his inward paine. xLiir, Out of her gored wound the cruell steel He lightly snatcht, and did the floodgate stop With his faire garment : then gan softly feel Her feeble pulse, to prove if any drop Of living blood yet in her veynes did hop : Which when hs felt to move, he hoped faire To call backe Ufe to her forsaken shop : So weU he did her deadly wounds repaire, That at the last shee gan to breath out living aire. XLIV. Which he perceiving, greatly gan reioice, And goodly counsell, that for wounded hart Is meetest med'cine, tempred with sweete voice ; " Ay me ! deare Lady, which the ymage art Of ruefuU pitty and impatient smart, Wliat direful! chaunce armd with avenging fate, Or cursed hand, hath plaid this cruell part, Thus fowle to hasten your untimely date 3 Speake, dear Lady, speake ; help never comes too late." XLV. Therewith her dim eie-Uds she up gan reare, On which the drery Death did sitt as sad As lump of lead, and made darke clouds appeare : But when as him, all in bright armour clad. Before her standing she espied had, As one out of a deadly dreame affright. She weakely started, yet she nothing drad : Streight downe againe herselfe in great despight She groveling threw to ground, as hating life and hght. xLvr. The gentle Knight her soone with carefull paine Uplifted light, and softly did uphold : Thrise he her reard, and thrise she sunck againe, Till he his armes about her sides gan fold, And to her said ; " Yet, if the stony cold Have not all seized on your frozen hart. Let one word fall that may your grief unfold, And tell the secrete of your mortall smart : He oft finds present helpe, who does his griefe impart." xLvri. Then, casting up a deadly looke, full low She sigh't from bottome of her wounded brest ; And, after many bitter throbs did throw. With hps full pale and foltring tong opprest. These words she breathed forth from riven chest ; « Leave, ah ! leave off, whatever wight thou bee. To let a weary wretch from her dew rest, And trouble dying soules tranquilitee ; Take not away now got, which none would give to me." XLvm. " Ah ! far be it," said he, " deare Dame, fro mee. To hinder soule from her desired rest, Or hold sad life in long captivitee : For, all I seeke, is but to have redrest The bitter pangs that doth your heart infest XLV. 2. as sad] As heary. Todd. XLVI. 1. paine] Labour. Fr. CnuitcH. xLvii. 7. To let] Hinder. Todd. TeU then, Lady, tell what fatall priefe Hath with so huge misfortune you opprest ; That I may cast to compas your reliefe. Or die with you in sorrow, and partake youi- griefe." XLIX. With feeble hands then stretched forth on hye. As heven accusing guilty of her deatli. And with dry drops congealed in her eye. In these sad wordes she spent her utmost breath ; " Heare then, Man, the sorrowes that uneath My tong can tell, so far all sence they pas ! Loe ! this dead corpse, that lies here underneath, The gentlest Knight, that ever on greene gras Gay steed with spurs did pricke, the good Sir Mor- dant was : L. " Was, (ay the while, that he is not so now !) My Lord, my Love, my deare Lord, my deare So long as hevens iust with equall brow [Love, Vouchsafed to behold us from above. One day, when him high corage did emmove, (As wont ye Knightes to seeke adventures wilde,) He pricked forth his puissaunt force to prove. Me then he left euwombed of this childe. This luckles childe, whom thus ye see witii blood defild. LI. " Him fortuned (hard fortune ye may ghesse !) To come, where vile Acrasia does wonne ; Acrasia, a false Enchaunteresse, That many errant Knightes have fowle fordonne; Within a wandring Island, that doth ronne And stray in perilous gulfe, her dwelling is : Fayre Sir, if ever there ye travell, shonne The cursed land where many wend amis, And Itnow it by the name ; it hight the Bowre of £lis. LIT. " Her blis is all in pleasure, and delight. Wherewith she makes her lovers dronken mad ; And then with words, and weedes, of wondrous might. On them she workes her will to uses bad : My Uefest Lord she thus beguiled had ; For he was flesh : (all flesh doth frayMe breed !) Whom when I heard to beene so ill bestad, (Weake wretch) I wrapt myseUe in palmers weed, And cast to seek liim forth through danger and great dreed. Lm. " Now had fayre Cynthia by even toumes Full measured tliree quarters of her yeare. And thrice three tymes had fild her crooked homes, Whenas my wombe her burdem would forbeai'e. And bad me call Lucina to me neare. Lucina came : a manchild forth I brought : The woods, the nymphes, my bowres, my mid- wives, weare : [bought ; Hard help at need ! So deare ihee. Babe, I Yet nought too dear I deemd, while so my deare I sought. XLvm. 8. cast] Consider note. Chobch. Liir. 4. Whenas my wombe her burdein would forbeare,] That is, lil bear any longer. Uito:j. Lin. 6. The woods, the nymphes, my bowres, my midwives, weare,'] That ia, the woods were my chambers i the nymphs, my midwives. Choiich. CANTO II.] THE FAERIE QUEENE. 71 " Him so I sought ; and so at last I fownd. Where him that Witch had thralled to her will, In chaines of lust and lewde desyres ybownd. And so transformed from his former skill. That me he laiew not, nether his owne ill ; Till, through wise handling and faire go vernaunce, 1 him recured to a better will, Purged from drugs of fowle intempraunce : Then meanes I gan devise for his dehverance. LT. " Which when the vile Enchaunteresse perceiv'd. How that my Lord from her I would reprive. With cup thus ehaxmd him parting she deceivd ; ' Sad Verse, give death to him that death does give, ' And losse of love to her that loves to hve, ' So soone as Bacchus with the Nymphe does lincke ! ' So parted we, and on our ioumey drive ; TUl, coming to this well, he stoupt to driucke : The charme fulfild, dead suddeinly he downe did sincke. LVI. " Which when I, wretch" — Not one word more she sayd. But breaking off the end for want of breath. And slyding soft, as downe to sleepe her layd, And ended all her woe in quiet death. That seeing, good Sir Guyon could uneath From teares abstayne ; for griefe his hart did grate. And from so heavie sight his head did wreath, Accusing fortune, and too cruell fate. Which plonged had faire Lady in so wretched state : Lvir. rhen, turning to his Palmer, said ; " Old syre, Behold the ymage of mortolitie, And feeble nature cloth'd with fleshly tyi-e I When raging Passion with fierce tyranny Robs Reason of her dew regahtie. And makes it servaunt to her basest part ; The strong it weakens with infirmitie. And with bold furie armes the weakest hart : The strong through pleasm'e soonest faUes, the weake through smart." LVirr. « But Temperaunce," said he, " with golden squire Betwixt them both can measm-e out a meane ; Nether to melt in pleasures whott desyre, Nor frye in hartlesse griefe and dolefull tene : Thrise happy man, who fares them both atweene ! But sith tins wretched woman overcome Of anguish, rather then of crime, hath bene. Reserve her cause to her etemall doome ; And, in the meane, vouchsafe her honorable toombe." LIX. " Palmer," quoth he, " death is an equall doome To good and bad, the common In of rest ; Lvm. 1. But Temperaunce, said he, with golden squire] Square, apelt squire for the saie of the rhyme. Uptok. Lvrn. 2. a meane ,-] Allttdmg to the Golden Mean. Church, Lvnl. 3. whott,] Hot, spelt what in the old editions of the Bible, and so pronounced to this day in the West of England. Upton. But after death the tryall Is to come. When best shall bee to them that lived best : But both alike, when death hath both supprost. Religious reverence doth burial teeue ; Which whoso wants, wants so much of his rest : For all so greet shame after death I weene, As selfe to dyen bad, unburied bad to beene. So both agree their bodies to engrave : The great earthes wombe they open to the sky, And with sad cypresse seemely it embrave ; Then, covering with a clod their closed eye. They lay therein their corses tenderly. And bid them sleepe in everlasting peace. But, ere they did then' utmost obsequy. Sir Guyon more affection to increace, BjTiempt a sacred vow, which none should ay releace. The dead Knights sword out of his sheath he drew With which he outt a lock of all their heare. Which medling with their blood and earth he threw Into the gi-ave, and gan devoutly sweare ; " Such and such evil God on Guyon reare, And worse and worse, young Orphane, be thy payne. If I, or thou, dew vengeaimce doe forbeare, Till guUtie blood her guerdon doe obtayne !" — So, shedding many teares, they closd the eartl agayne. CANTO IL Babes bloody handes ma? not be cleu&d. The face of Golden Meane: Her sisterB, Two Extremities, Strive her to banish cleane. Thus when Sir Guyon mtli his faithful Guyde Had with dejv rites and dolorous lament The end of their sad tragedie uptyde. The htle Babe up in his armes he hent ; [ment Who with sweet pleasaunce, and bold j^landish Gan smyle on them, that rather ought to weepe As carelesse of his woe, or innocent Of that was doen ; that ruth emperced deepe In that Knightes hart, and wordes with bitter teare did steepe : tii. 6. — ^— doth buriall teene i] Affords the melan. choly rites of burial. Church. Lix. 8. For all so greet shamel That is, For I imagine it altogether as great a shame after death unhuried bad to beene, as for a man's self to dyen bad. Upton. LX. 1. to engrave :] Bury. Church. Lx. Z. And with sad cypresse seemely it embrave ;] Deco- rate it with strewments oi funeral cypresse, as he calls the tree, F. Q. i. i. 8. Todd. LX. 9. Byncmpt] Dictated, or named; from be and nempt. Todd. Lxi. 3. Which medling] Mixing the hair &c. Fr. mSler Church. Arg. 1. may not be clensd.'\ That is, cannot be cleansed. See st. 10. Church. I. 4. he hent ;] Seized, took hold nt. Sax. hende Lat. prehendere. Tooo. f2 THE FAERIE Q,UEENE. [book II " Ah ! lacklesse Bate, borne under cruell starre, And in dead parents balefull ashes bred. Full little weenest thou what sorrowes are Left thee for porcion of thy livelyhed ; Poore Orphane ! in the wide world scattered, As budding braunch rent from the native tree, And throwen forth, till it be withered ! Such is the state of men ! Thus enter we Into this life with woe, and end with miseree !" Then, soft himselfe inclyning on his knee Downe to that well, did in the water weene (So love does loath disdainefull nicitee) His guiltie handes from bloody gore to cleene : He washt them oft and oft, yet nought they beene For all his washmg cleaner : Still he strove ; Yet still the litle hands were bloody seene : The which him into great amaz'ment drove. And into diverse doubt his wavering wonder clove. He wist not whether blott of fowle offence Might not be purgd with water nor with bath j Or that High God, in lieu of innocence, Imprinted had that token of His wrath. To shew how sore bloodguiltinesse He hat'th ; Or that the charme and veneme, wliich they dronck. Their blood with secret filth infected hath. Being diffused through the senceless tronck That, through the great contagion, dh-eful deadly stonck. V. Whom thus at gaze the Palmer gan to bord With goodly reason, and thus fayre bespake ; " Ye bene right hard amated, gratious Lord, And of your ignorance great merveill make. Whiles cause not well conceived ye mistake. But know, that secret vertues ai'e infusd In every fountaine, and in everie lake. Which, who hath skill them rightly to have chusd. To proofe of passing wonders hath full often usd : VI. "Of those, some were so from their sourse indewd By great dame Nature, from whose fruitfuU pap Their welheads spring, and are with moisture . deawd ; Which feeds each living plant with hquid sap, And filles with ilowres fayre Floraes painted lap ; But other some, by guifte of later gi'ace. Or by good prayers, or by other hap. Had vertue pourd into their waters bace. And thenceforth were renowmd, and sought from place to place. vir. " Such is this well, wrought by occasion straunge. Which to her nymph befell. Upon a day, As she the woodes with bow and shaftes did raunge. The hartlesse hjTid and roebucke to dismay, Dan Faiinus chaunst to meet her by the way. And, kindling fire at her faire-burning eye. Inflamed was to follow beauties chace, V. 1. V. 3. - - to bord] Accost, or address. Todd. - amated,] Perplexed. Fr. amatz. Todd. And chaced her, that fast from him did fly ; As hynd from her, so she fled from her enimy. VIIT. « At last, when fayling breath began to faint. And saw no meanes to scape ; of shame affrayd. She set her doivne to weepe for sore constrahit ; And, to Uiana callmg lowd for ayde. Her deare besought to let her die a mayd. The goddesse heard ; and suddeine, where she sate Welling out streames of teares, and quite dismayd With stony feare of that rude rustick mate, lYansformd her to a stone from stedfast Vu'gins state. " Lo ! now she is that Stone ; fi-om whose two heads. As from two weeping eyes, fresh streames do flow, Y et colde through feare and old conceived dreads : And yet the Stone her semblance seemes to show, Shapt like a Maide, that such ye may her know ; And yet her vertues in her water byde : For it is chaste and pure as purest snow, Ne lets her waves with any filth be dyde ; But ever, like herselfe, unstayned hath beene tryde. " From thence it comes, that this Babes bloody hand May not be clensd with water of this well : Ne certes. Sir, strive you it to withstand. But let them still be bloody, as befell. That they his mothers innocence may tell. As she bequeathd ui her last testament ; That, as a sacred symbole, it may dwell In her sonnes flesh, to mind revengiiment. And be for all chaste Dames an endlesse moniment." He hearkned to his reason ; and the childe Uptaking, to the Palmer gave to beare ; But his sad fathers armes with blood defilde, Aa heavie load, himselfe did lightly reai-e ; And turning to that place, in which whyleare He left his loftie steed with golden sell And goodly gorgeous barbes, him found not By other accident, that earst befell, [theare : He is convaide ; but how, or where, here fits not tell. Which when Sir Guyon saw, all were he wroth, Yet algates mote he soft himselfe appease, And fairely fare on foot, however loth : His double burden did him sore disease. So, long they travelled with litle ease. Till that at last they to a Castle came. Built on a rocke adioyning to the seas : It was an auncient worke of Antique fame, And wondrous strong by nature and by skilfnll frame. xfrr. Therein three Sisters dwelt of sundry sort. The children of one sjtc by mothers three ; via, 3. constraint ;] Uneasiness. Church. vlu. 9. Transformed her to a stone from stedfast Vir- gins slate."] StedCast, i. e. jn which state she purposed etedfastly to continue. Upton. IX. 3. Yet] 1\\a.t \Sj still. So 2/ei signifies in the fourth and sixth lines also. Church. xr. 6. with golden sell And goodly gorgeous barbes,] Sell is saddle, Fr. seJle. Barbes we bits or bridles. Todd. CANTO II.] THE FAERIE QUEENE. 73 Who, dying whylome, did divide this fort To them by equaU shares in equall fee : But stryfull mind and diverse quahtee Drew them in partes, and each made others foe ; Still did they strive and daily disagree ; The eldest dia against the yomigest goe, And both against tne middest meant to worken woe. Where when the Knight arriv'd, he was right well Receiv'd, as Knight of so much worth became. Of second Sister, who did far excell The other two ; Medina was her name, A sober sad and comely courteous Dame : Who rich arayd, and yet in modest guize. In goodly garments that her well became, Fayre maxching forth in honorable wize. Him at the threshold mett and well did enterprize. XV. She led him up into a goodly bowre. And comely courted with meet modestle ; S^e in her speach, ne in her haviour. Was lightnesse seene or looser vanitie. But gratious womanhood, and gravitie. Above the reason of her youthly yeares : Her golden lockes she roundly did uptye In breaded tramels, that no looser heares Did out of order stray about her daintie eares. WhUest she her selfe thus busily did frame Seemely to entertaine her new-come guest, Newes hereof to her other Sisters came. Who all this while were at their wanton rest, Accourting each her frend with lavish fest : They were two Knights of perelesse puissaunce, And famous far abroad for waa-like gest, Which to these Ladies love did couutenaunce. And to his Mistresse each himselfe strove to ad- He, that made love unto the eldest Dame, Was hight Sir Huddibras, an hardy man ; Yet not so good of deedes as great of name. Which he by many rash adventures wan, Since errant armes to sew he first began. More huge in strength then wise in workes he was. And reason with foole-hardize over-ran ; Sterne melancholy did his courage pas ; And was, for terrour more, all armd in shyning bras. svm. But he, that lov'd the youngest, was Sansloy ; He, that faire Una b-te fowle outraged, The most tmruly and the boldest boy That ever warhke weapons menaged, XIV. 9. did enterprize.] I. e. received him kindly* Todd. XV. 6. rea.sOTi] Reason here means proportion. Lat. ratio. Her gravity was disproportioned to her youth. Chtjech. XV. 7. Her golden lockes she roundly did vptye In breaded tramels, Sec.] In woven or plaited divisions, representing a kind of net-work. Tramel is from the Fr. tramail, a net. Todd. XV. 9 daintie] Delicate, or elegant. Todd. xvrr. 5. sew] Pursue, foUow. Church. XVII, 9. And was,/or terrour more, &c.] He means. And he was, for terrom- more, &c. T. Warton. And all to lawlesse lust encouraged Through strong opinion of his matchlesse might ; Ne ought he car'd whom he endamaged By tortious wrong, or whom bereav'd of right ; He, now this Ladies champion, chose for love to fight. XIX. These two gay Knights, vowd to so diverse loves, Each other does envy with deadly hate. And daily warre against his foeman moves. In hope to win more favour with his mate. And th' others pleasiiig service to abate. To magnifie his ovme. But when they heard How in that place straunge Knight arrived late. Both Knights and Ladies forth right angry far'd. And fercely unto batteU steme themselves pre- par'd. XX. But, ere they could proceede Unto the place Where he abode, themselves at discord fell, .\nd cruell combat ioynd in middle space : With horrible assault, and fury fell. They heapt huge strokes the scorned life to quell. That all on uprore from her settled seat The house was raysd, and all that in did dwell ; Seemd that lowde thunder with amazement great Did rend the ratling skyes with ilames of fouldring heat. xxr. The noyse thereof cald forth that straunger Knight, To weet what dreadfuU thing was there in hond ; Where whenas two brave Knightes in bloody fight With deadly rancour he enraunged fond. His sunbroad shield about his wrest he bond. And shyning blade unsheathd, with whicli he ran Unto tliat stead, their strife to understond ; And, at his first arrivall, them began With goodly meanes to pacific, weU as he can. But they, him spying, both with greedy forse Attonce upon him ran, and him beset With strokes of mortal] Steele without remorse. And on his shield like yron sledges bet. As when a beare and tygre, being met In cruell fight on Lybicke ocean wide, Espye a traveller with feet siu'bet. Whom they in equall pray hope to divide, They stint their strife and him assayle on everie side. xxni. But he, not like a weary traveilere, Their sharp assault right boldly did rebut, And suffred not their blowes to byte him nere. But with redoubled buffes them hacke did put : Whose grieved mindes, which choler did englut. Against themselves turning their wrathfuU spight. xviir. 8. tortious] Injurious. Toco. XX. 9. fouldring ftea(.] Fouldring, that is, thun- dering. 'Ft. fouldroyant. Church. xxri. 6. on Lybicke ocean wide.'} The tyhicke ocean means those mounds of sands in the Libyck deserts, whose wide and extended plains may be imaginedan ocean. Upton. XXII 7 surbet,] Wearied, or bruised. Todd. xxui. 3. And suffred not their tilowes to byte him nere.l That is, to pierce him to the quick- T. Warton. /4 THE FAERIE QUEENE. [DOOK n (5au with new rage their shieldes to hew and cut. But still, when Guyon came to part their fight, With heavie load on him they freshly gan toamight. xxrv. As a tall ship tossed in troublous seas, Whom ragmg wiudes, threatning to make the Of the rough rockes, doe diversly disease, [pi-ay Meetes two contririe billowes by the way, That her on either side doe sore assay. And boast to swallow her in greedy grave ; Shee, scorning both their spights, does malie wide way. And, with her brest breaking the fomy wave, Does ride on both their backs, and faire herself doth save : XXT. So boldly he him beares, and rusheth forth Betweene them both, by conduct of his blade. Wondrous great prowesse and heroick worth He shewd that day, and rare ensample made, When two so mighty warriours he dismade : Attonce he wards and strikes ; he takes and paies ; Now forst to yield, now forcing to invade ; Before, behind, and round about him laies : So double was his paines, so double be his praise. XXVI, Straunge sort of fight, three valiaunt Knights to see Three combates ioine in one, and to darraine A triple warre with triple enmitee. All for their Ladies froward love to gaine. Which, gotten, was but hate. So Love docs raine In stoutest minds, and maketh monstrous wan-e ; He maketh warre, he maketh peace againe, And yett his peace is but continual iaiTe : O miserable men, that to him subiect arre ! xxvn. Whilst thus they mingled were in furious armes, The faire Medina with her tresses tome And naked brest, in pitty of their harmes, Emongst them ran ; and, falling them beforue, Besought them by the womb which them had bom. And by the loves which were to them most deare. And by the knighthood which they sure had sworn, Their deadly cruell discord to forbeare. And to herius* conditions of faire peace to heafe. But her two other Sisters, standing by. Her lowd gainsaid ; and both their champions bad Pursew the end of their strong enmity. As ever of their loves they would be glad : Yet she with pitthy words, and counsell sad, Still strove their stubborne rages to revoke ; That at the last, suppressing fury mad. They gan abstaine from diot of direfull stroke. And hearken to the sober speachea which she spoke; XXIX. " Ah ! puissaunt Lords, what cursed evill spright, Or feU Erinnys, in your noble harts Her hellish brond hath kindled with despight. And stird you up to worke your wilfull smarts ! Is this the ioy of armes 2 be these the parts Of glorious knighthood, after blood to thrust, xxvm. 5. ■ XXIX. 6.— — counsell sad,] Grave advice. CacECH. - thrust,] ThiTtt. Todd. And not regard dew right and inst desarts ! Vaine is the vaunt, and victory imiust. That more to mighty hands then rightful! causa doth trast. XXX. " And were there rightfuU cause of difference, Yet were not better fayre it to accord. Then with blood-guiltinesse to heape offence. And mortal vengeaunce ioyne to ciime abhord ! ! fly from wrath ; fly, my liefest Lord ! Sad be the sights, and bitter fruites of warre. And thousand furies wait on -ivrathfuU sword : Ne ought the praise of prowesse more doth marre Then fowle revenging rage, and base conten- tious iarre. XXXT. " But lovely concord, and most sacred peace. Doth nourish vertue, and fast friendship breeds, Weake she makes strong, and strong thing does increace, Till it the pitch of highest praise exceeds : Brave be her warres, and honorable deeds. By which she triumphes over yre and pride, And winnes an olive girlond for her meeds. Be therefore, my deare Lords, pacifide. And this misseeming discord meekely lay aside." Her gracious words their rancour did appall. And suncke so deepe into their boyling brests. That do^vne they lett their cruell weapons fall, And lowly did abase their lofty crests To her faire presence and discrete behests. Then she began a treaty to procure. And stablish terms betwixt both their req^uests, That as a law for ever should endure ; Which to observe, in word of Knights they did assure. xxxin. Which to confirme, and fast to bind their league, After their weary sweat and bloody toile. She them besought, during their quiet treague, Into her lodging to repaire a wMle, To rest themselves, and grace to reconcile. They soone consent : So forth with her they fare ; Where they are well reeeivd, and made to spoile Themselves of soiled armes, and to prepare Their minds to pleasure, and their mouths to dainty fare, XXXIT. And those two froward Sisters, their faire loves. Came with them eke, all were they wondrous loth, And fained cheare, as for the time behoves ; But could not colour yet so well the troth. But that their natures bad appeard in both : For both did at their second Sister grutch And inly grieve, as doth an hidden moth The inner garment frett, not th' utter touch ; One thought her cheare too litle, th' other thought too mutch. XXXV. Elissa (so the eldest hight) did deeme Such entertainment base, ne ought would eat, xxxm. 3 treague,] A truce, or cessation of ann& Ital. tregua. Germ, treuga. Upton. xxxiji. 6. grace to reconcile.'] To regain each other's favour. ALatinism. Church. CANTO n.| THE FAERIE QUEENE. 70 Ne ought would spealie, but evermore did seeme As discontent for want of merth or meat ; No solace could her paramour intreat Her once to show, ne court, nor dalliaimce ; But with bent lowring browes, as she would tlu-eat, She scould, and frownd with froward counte- naunce ; Unworthy of faire Ladies comely govemaunce. But young Perissa was of otlier mynd. Full of disport, still laughing, loosely light, And quite contrary to her Sisters Icynd ; No measure in her mood, no rule of right, But poured out in pleasure and delight : In wine and meats she flowd above the banck, And in excesse exceeded her owne might ; In sumptuous tire she ioyd her selfe to pranck, But of her love too lavish : htle have she thanck ! xxxvrr. Fast by her side did sitt the bold Sans oy, Fitt mate for such a mincing mineon. Who in her loosenesse tooke exceeding ioy ; Might not be found a francker frauion. Of her leawd parts to make companion. But Huddibras, more Hke a malecontent. Did see and grieve at his bold fashion ; Hardly could he endure his hardiment ; Yett still he satt, and inly did himselfe torment. XXXVIJI. Betwixt them both the faire Medina sate With sober grace and goodly carriage : With equall measure she did moderate The strong extremities of their outrage ; That forward paire she ever would asswage, When they would strive dew reason to exceed ; But that same froward twaiae would accorige, And of her plenty adde unto their need : So kept she them in order, and herselfe in heed. XXXIX. Thus fairely shee attempered her feast, And pleasd them all with meete satiety : At last, when lust of meat and drinke was ceast. She Guyon deare besought of curtesie To tell from whence he came through ieopardy, And whether now on new adventure bownd : Who with bold grace, and comely gravity, Drawing to him the eies of all arownd. From lofty siege began these words aloud to sownd. " This thy demaund, Lady, doth revive Fresh memory in me of that great Queene, Great and most glorious Virgin Queene alive. That with her soveraine power, and scepter shene, All Faery lond does peaceably sustene. In widest ocean she her throne does reare, That over all the earth it may be seene ; As morning sunne her beames dispredden cleare ; And in her face faire peace and mercy doth appeare. xxxTi. 3 kynd ;] Nature. Todd. XXXVII. 2. such a mincing mineon,] Such an affected wanton. Fr. Mignon. Todd. xxxviir. 5. forward] That is, bold. Church. XXXIX. 9. From lofty siege began} Siege is seat. Fr. SUge, Chubcr. " In her the richesse of all heavenly grace In chiefe degree ai'e heaped up on hye : And all, that els this worlds enclosure bace Hath great or glorious in mortall eye, Adornes the person of her Maiestye ; That men, beholding so great excellence And rare perfection in mortalitye, Doe her adore with sacred reverence. As th' I dole of her Makers great magnificence. " To her I homage and my service owe. In number of the noblest Knightes on ground, Mongst whom on me she deigned to bestowe Order of Maydenhead, the most renownd, That may this day in all the world be found. An yearely solenme feast she wontes to make. The day that first doth lead the yeare around. To which all Knights of worth and com'age bold Resort, to heare of straunge adventures to be told. xLin. " There this old Palmer shewd himselfe that day. And to that mighty Princesse did complaine Of grievous mischiefes, which a wicked Fay Had wrought, and many whelmd in deadly painc, Whereof he crav'd redresse. My Soveraine, Whose glory is in gracious deeds, and ioyes Throughout the world her mercy to maintaine, Eftsoones devisd redresse for such annoyes : Me, all unfitt for so great purpose, she employes. XLIV. " Now hath faire Phebe with her silver face Thrise seene the shadowes of the neather world, Sith last I left that honorable place. In which her roiall presence is entrold ; Ne ever shaU I rest in house nor hold. Till I that false Acrasia have wonne ; Of whose fowle deedes, too hideous to bee told, I witnesse am, and this their wretched sonne Whose wofull parents she liath wickedly fordonne." XLV. « Tell on, fayre Su-," said she, "that dolefull tale. From which sad ruth does seeme you to restraine, That we may pitty such imhappie bale. And leame from Pleasures poyson to abstaine : lU, by ensample, good doth often gayne." Then forward he his purpose gan pursew. And told the story of the mortall payne. Which Mordant and Amavia did rew ; Ab, with lamenting eyes, himselfe did lately vew. XLVL Night was far spent ; and now in ocean deep Orion, flying fast from hissing Snake, His flaming head did hasten for to steep. When of his pitteous tale he end did make • Whilst with delight of that he wisely spake Those guestes beguyled did beguyle their eyes Of Idndly sleepe, that did them overtake. At last, when they had markt the chaunged ikyes, They wist their houre was spent ; than each to rest him hyes. xLi. 9. As th' Idole] Tliat is, as the image. Lat. idolum Church. xuv. i. entrold ;] It should be enrold, that Is, encircled. Church. 76 THE FAEEIE QUEENE. [book iu CANTO III. Valne BragsadoccTiio, getting G«y- ous horsr, is made tbe Bcorne Of bniehthfiodtrew; and isot'fayre Belphoebelowle forlorne. SooNE as the morrow fayre with purple beames Disperst the shadowes of the misty night, And Titan, playing on the eastern streames, Gan cleare tlie deawy ayre with springing light ; Sir Guyon, mindfull of his vow yplight, Uprose from drowsie couch, and him addrest Unto the iourney which he had behight : His puissant armes about his noble brest. And many-folded shield he bound about his wrest. It. T hen, taking congfe of that Virgin pure, ' The bloody-handed Babe unto her truth Did earnestly committ, and her eoniure In vertuous lore to traine his tender youth. And all that gentle noriture ensu'th ; And that, so soone as ryper yeares he raught. He might, for memory of that dayes ruth, Be called Ruddymane ; and thereby taught T' avenge his parents death on them that had it wrought. in. So forth he far'd, as now befell, on foot, Sith his good steed is lately from him gone ; Patience perforce : helplesse what may it boot To frett for anger, or for griefe to mone ! His Palmer now shall foot no more alone. So fortune wrought, as under greene woodes syde He lately heard that dying Lady grone. He left his steed without, and speare besyde. And rushed in on foot to ayd her ere she dyde. The whyles a Losell wandring by the way. One that to bountie never cast his mynd, Ne thought of honour ever did assay His baser brest, but in his kestrell kynd A pleasing vaine of glory he did fynd. To which his flowing toung and troublous spright Gave him great ayd, and made him more inclynd; He, that brave steed there finding ready dight, Purloynd both steed and speare, and ran away full light. V. Now gan his hart all swell in ioUity, And of himselfe great hope and help oonceiv'd. That puffed up with smoke of vanity. And with selfe-loved personage deceiv'd, He gan to hope of men to be receiv'd For such, as he him thought, or faine would bee : But for in Court gay portaunce he perceiv'd, I. 7. behight ;] Promised. Todd. n. 1. Then taking cong^ of thBtYirgin^ Taking Zcal'e of Medina. Church. IV. 1. a Losell] Aloose, good-for-nothing iellow, as the poet explains it in the next line. Church. IV. 2. . hountie] Goodness^ Fr. Bnnt(5. Church. IV. 4. in Ins kestrell ftyred] In his base kynd, or nature. Kestrell is a bastard kind of hawk. Upton. VI 7. But for] And because. Church. And gallant shew to be in greatest gree, Eftsoones to Court he cast t' advaunce his first degree. VT. And by the way he chaunced to espy One sitting ydle on a sunny banck. To whom avaunting m great bravery. As peacocke that his painted plumes doth pranck, He smote his courser in the trembling flanck. And to him threatned his hart-thriUing speare : The seely man, seeing him ryde so ranck And ayme at him, fell flat to groimd for feare, And crying, " Mercy," loud, his pitious handes gan reare. vri. Thereat the Scarerow wexed wondrous prowd, Through fortune of his first adventure fayre. And with big thundring voice revyld him lowd ; " Vile caytive, vassall of dread and deapayre, " Unworthie of the commune breathed aya-e, Why livest thou, dead dog, a longer day, And doest not unto death thyselfe prepayre \ Dy, or thyselfe my captive yield for ay : Great favour I thee graunt for aunswere thus to stay." vnr. " Hold, deare Lord, hold your dead-doing hand," Then loud he cryde, " I am your humble thrall." " Ah wretch," quoth he, " thy destinies withstand My wrathfull will, and doe for mercy call. I give thee life : Therefore prostrated fall. And kisse my stirrup ; that thy homage bee." The Miser threw himselfe, as an ofi'iill, Streight at his foot in base humilitee. And cleeped him his hege, to hold of him in fee. So happy peace they made and faire accord. Eftsoones this Liegeman gan to wexe more bold, And, when he felt the folly of his Lord, In his owne kind he gan himselfe unfold : For he was wylie witted, and growne old In cunning sleightes and practick Imavery. From that day forth he cast for to uphold His ydle humour with fine flattery, And blow the bellowes to his swelling vanity. Trompart, fitt man for Braggadochio To serve at Court in view of vaunting Rye ; Vaine-glorious man, when fluttring wind does blow In his Hght winges, is lifted up to skye ; The scorne of knighthood and trew chevabye, To thinke, without desert of gentle deed And noble worth, to be advaimced hye ; Such prayse is shame ; but honour, vertues meed. Doth beare the fayrest flowre in honourable seed. So forth they pas, a well consorted payre, Till that at length with Archimage they meet: Who seeing one, that shone in armour fayre, On goodly courser thondring with his feet^ v. 8. in greatest gree.] In greatest estimation cl liking. Todd. VI. 3 avaunting] Boasting. Upton. VI. 7 ' ryde so ranck] That is, ride so JUrctty Church. IX. 8. His] Braggadochio's. Church. CANTO lll.j THE FAERIE QUEENE. 77 Eftsoones supposed him a person meet Of his revenge to make the instrument : For since the Redcrosse Knight lie erst did weet To been with Guyon knitt in one consent, The ill, which earst to liim, he now to Guyon ment. And comming close to Trompart gan inquere Of him, what mightie warriour that mote bee. That rode in golden sell with single spere. But wanted sword to wreake his enmitee. " He is a gi-eat adventurer," said he, " That hath his sword through hard assay forgone, And now hath vow'd, till he avenged bee Of that despight, never to wearen none ; That speare is him enough to doen a thousandgrone." Th' Enchaunter greatly ioyed in the vaunt. And weened well ere long liis will to win. And botli his foen with equaJl foyle to daimt : Tho to him louting lowly did begin To plaine of wronges, which had committed bin By Guyon, and by that false Redcrosse Knight ; Which two, through treason and deeeiptfidl gin, Had slayne Sir Mordant and his Lady bright : That mote himhonour win, to wreakso foule despight. Tlierewith all suddeinly he seemd enrag'd. And threatned death with dreadfull countenaunce. As if their hves had in his hand beene gag'd ; And with stiffe force shaking his mortall launce, To let him weet his doughtie vaUaunce, Thus said ; " Old man, great sure shal be thy meed, [geaunce If, where those Knights for feare of dew yen- Doe lurke, thou certeinly to mee areed. That I may wreake on them their hainoua hateful deed." XV. " Certes, my Lord," said he, " that shall I soone, And give you eke good helpe to their decay. But mote I wisely you advise to doou ; Give no ods to your foes, but doe purvay Yourselfe of sword before that bloody day ; (For they be two the prowest Knights on grownd. And oft approv'd in many hard assay ;) And eke of svirest Steele, that may be fownd. Do arme yourselfe against that day, them to con- fownd." " Dotard," saide he, " let be thy deepe advise ; Seemes that through many yeares thy wits thee faile, And that weake eld hath left thee nothing wise, Els never should thy iudgement be so frayle To measure manhood by the sword or mayle. Is not enough fowre quarters of a man, Withouten sword or shield, an hoste to quayle 1 Thou htle wotest that this right-hand can : Sneake they, which have beheld the battailes which it wan." XII. 6. nat hath Ms sword through hard assay forgone,] Hath lost his-Bword in a dangerous enterprise. Todd. xm. 7- giD.l Engine J OT plot, Todd. XIV. 6. — ^ valiaunce,] Valour. Fr. Vaillance. Upton. XVI. 1 — ^ \et\iQ\ Away with. Church. The man was much abashed at his boast ; Yet well he wist that whoso would contend With either of those Knightes on even coast. Should neede of all his armes him to defend ; Yet feared least his boldnesse should offend : When Braggadocchio saide ; " Once I did sweare, When with one sword seven Knightes I brought to end. Thenceforth hi battaile never sword to beare. But it were that which noblest Knight on earth doth weare." xvrn. "Perdy, Su: Knight," saide then th' Enchaunter blive, " That shall I shortly purchase to your liond : For now the best and noblest Knight alive Prince Arthur is, that wonnes in Faerie lond ; He hath a sword, that flames hke burning broud : The same, by my device, I undertake Shall by to morrow by thy side be fond." At which bold word that Boaster gan to quake. And wondred in his minde what mote that monster make. XIX. He stayd not for more bidding, but away Was suddein vanished out of his sight : The northeme winde his wings did broad display At liis commaund, and reared liim up light From off the earth to take his aerie flight. They lookt about, but no where could espye Tractofhis foot: then dead through great aff'right They both nigh were, and each bad other flye ; Both fled attonce, ne ever backe retourned eye ; TUl that they come unto a forrest greene. [feare ; In which they shrowd themselves from causeles , 'y et feare them followes still, where so they beene : Each trembling leafe and whistling wind they heare. As ghastly bug, does greatly them affeare : Yet both doe strive their fearefulnesse to faine. At last they heard a home that shrilled cleare Tliroughout the wood that ecchoed againe. And made the forrest ring, as it would rive in twaiue. XXI. Eft through the thicke they heard one rudely i-ush ; With noyse whereof he from his loftie steed Downe fell to ground, and crept into a bush. To hide his coward head from dying dreed. But Trompart stoutly stayed to taken heed Of what might hap. Eftsoone there stepped A goodly Ladie clad in himters weed, [foorth That seemd to be a woman of great worth, And by her stately portance borne of heavenly bbth. XXII. Her face so faire, as flesh it seemed not. But hevenly pourtraict of bright angels hew, xviii. 1. — ' blive,] Presently, the same as bilive ; an adverb of frequent occurrence inourold poetry. Todd. XIX. 1. He] Arehimago. Chuiich. XX. 6. As ghastly bug,] Bug is a common word, in our oil poetry, for any frightful appearance. Todd. xxj. I. ■ ■ the thicke] Thicket. Todd. XXI. 9. portance] Comportment, carriage. portamento. Upton. ItaL 78 THE FAERIE QUEENE. [book II. Cleare as the skye, withouten blame or blot, Through goodly mixture of complexions dew ; And in her cheekes the vermeill red did shew Like roses in a bed of lillies shed, The which ambrosiall odours from them threw, And gazers sence with double pleasure fed, Hable to heale the sicke and to revive the ded. In her faire eyes two living lamps did flame. Kindled above at th' Hevenly Makers light, And darted fyrie beames out of the same. So passing persant, and so wondrous bright. That quite bereav'd the rash beholders sight : In them the blinded god his lustfuU fyre To kindle oft assayd, but had no might ; For, with dredd maiestie and awfull yre, She broke his wanton darts, and quenched bace desyre. XXX rv. Her yvorie forhead, full of boimtie brave. Like a broad table did itselfe dispred. For Love his loftie triumphes to engrave. And write the battailes of his great godhed : AU good and honour might therem be red ; For tliere their dwelling was. And, when she spake, [shed ; Sweete wordes, hke dropping honny, she did And twixt the perles and rubius softly brake A silver sound, that heavenly musioke seerad to make. Upon her eyelids many Graces sate, Under the shadow of her even browes, Working belgardes and amorous retrate ; And everio one her with a grace endowes. And everie one with meekenesse to her boweu : So glorious mirrhour of celestiall grace. And soveraine moniment of mortaU vowes. How shall frayle pen descrive her heavenly face, For feare, through want of skill, her beauty to dis- grace ! XXVI. So faire, and thousand thousand times more faire, She seemd, when she presented was to sight ; And was yclad, for heat of scorching aire. All in a s&ken Camus hUy whight, Purfled upon with many a folded plight. Which all above besprinckled was throughout With golden aygulets, that glistred bright. Like twinckling starres ; and all the skirt about Was hemd with golden fringe. XXVII. Below her ham her weed did somewhat trayne. And her streight legs most bravely were embayld XXIV. 2, Like a broad table] Board, such as pictures arc painted upon. Lat. Tabula. Church. XXV. 3 belgardes] Sweet or beautiful looks. Todd. XXV. 8 descrive] Describe. Ital. descrivere. Todd. XXVI. 4. Camus] A thin, transparent, dress. Todd. XXVI. 6. Purfled] Wrought or embroidered. The Fr. pourjllure signifies the fringe or trimming of women's gowns. Todd. XXVI. 7 aygulets,] Tagged, points, the Fr. word, aiguilette. Upton. XXVII. 2. embayld] Bound up. Vi.eml>aller,Qeim. cinbaUen. Upton. In gUden buskins of costly cordwiyne, All bard with golden bendes, which were entayld With curious antickes, and fiiU fayre aumayld : Before, they fastned were under her knee In a rich iewell, and therein entrayld The ends of all the knots, that none might see How they within their fouldings close enwrapped bee: Like two faire marble pillours they wcfre seene. Which doe the temple of the gods support. Whom all the people decke with girlands greene, And honour in their festivall resort ; Those same with stately grace and princely port She taught to tread, when she herselfe would grace ; But with the woody nymphes when she did play, Or when the flying hbbard she did chace. She could them nimbly move, and after fly apace. xxrx. And in her hand a sharpe bore-speare she held. And at her backe a bow and quiver gay, Stuft with steel-headed dartes wherewitli she queld The salvage beastes in her victorious play. Knit with a golden bauldricke wliich forelay Athwart her snowy brest, and did divide Her daintie paps ; which, like young fruit in May, Now little gau to swell, and being tide Through her thin weed their places only signifide. XXX. Rer yellow lockes, crisped like golden wyre. About her shoulders weren loosely shed. And, when the winde emongst them did inspyre, Tliey waved like a penon wyde dispred. And low behinde her backe were scattered : And, whether art it were or heedlesse hap. As through the flouring forrest rash she fled. In her rude heares sweet flowres themselves did lap, And flourishing fresh leaves and blossomes did eif- wrap. XXXI. Such as Diana by the sandy shore Of swift Eurotas, or on Cynthus greene. Where all the nymphes have her unwares forlore, Wandreth alone with bow and arrowes keene, To seeke her game : Or as that famous queene Of Amazons, whom Pyrrhus did destroy. The day that first of Priame she was seene. Did shew herselfe in great triumphant ioy, To succour the weake state of sad afBieted lioy. xxxn. Such when as hartlesse Trompart her did vew, He was dismayed in his coward miade. And doubted whether he himselfe should shew,. Or fly away, or bide alone behinde ; Both feare and hope he in her face did 6nde : When she at last him spying thus bespake ; « Hayle, groome ; didst not thou see a bleeding hynde. xxvn. 4. — — entayld] Carved. Todd. x^^vii. 6. . aumayld :] Enamelled. Ital. tmalto i Fr. etmail, emailU. Upton. xxvn. 7 entrayld] Twisted. Church. XXX. 3 did inspyre,] Did breathe. Lat inipiro. Church. »xxii. 7 groome;] Young man. Todd. CANTO III.] THE FAERIE QUEENE. 79' Whose right haunch earst my stedfast arrow strake ? If thou didst, tell me, that I may her overtake." Wherewith reviv'd, this answere forth he threw ; " goddesse, (for such I thee take to bee,) For nether doth thy face terrestriall shew, Nor voyce sound moi'tall ; I avow to thee, Such wounded beast, as that, I did not see, Sith earst into this forrest wild I came. But mote thy goodlyhed forgive it mee. To weete which of the gods I shall thee name. That unto thee dew worship I may rightly frame." xxxiv. To whom she thus — But ere her words ensewd, Unto the bush her eye did suddein glaunce, In which vaine Braggadocchio was mewd, And saw it stirre : She lefte her percing launce, And towards gan a deadly shafte advaunce. In mind to marke the beast. At which sad Btowre, Trompart forth stept, to stay the mortal! chaunee. Out crying ; « ! whatever hevenly powre, Or eartlily wight thou be, witlihold this deadly^ howre ! XXXV. " ! stay thy hand ; for yonder is no game For thy tiers arrowes, them to exercize ; But loe ! my Lord, my Liege, whose warlike name Is far renowmd through many bold emprize ; And now in shade he shrowded yonder hes." She staid : With that he crauld out of his nest, Forth creeping on his caitive hands and thies ; And standing stoutly up his lofty crest Did fiercely shake, and rowze as comming late from rest. XXXVI. As fearfull fowie, that long in secret cave For dread of soring hauke herselfe hath hid, Not caring how, her silly life to save, She her gay painted plumes disorderid ; Seeing at last herselfe from daimger rid. Peeps forth, and soone renews her native pride ; She gins her feathers fowle disfigured Prowdly to prune, and sett on every side ; She shakes off shame, ne thinks how erst she did her hide. xxxvu. So when her goodly visage he beheld. He gan himselfe to vauute : But, when he vewd Those deadly tooles which in her hand she held, Soone into other fitts he was transmewd. Till she to him her gi-acious speaeh renewed ; " AU haile. Sir Knight, and well may thee befall, As all the like, which honor have pursewd Through deeds of armes and prowesse martiall ! AU vertue merits praise, but such the most of all." XXXVIII. To whom he thus ; « fairest under skie, Trew be thy words, and worthy of thy praise, That warlike feats doest highest glorifie. XXXVI. 8. ProKdly to prune,] Smooth or set them in order. T. Warton. xxxvu. 4. transmewd,] Changed, transformed. Ft. transmuer. Todd. Therein I have spent all my youthly daies. And many battailes fought and many fraies Throughout the world, wherso they might be Endevoring my dreaded name to raise [found,. Above the moone, that Fame may it resound In her etemaU tromp with laureU girloud cround. xxxrx. " But what art thou, Lady, which doest raunge In this wilde forest, where no pleasure is. And doest not it for ioyous Court exchaunge, Emongst thine equall peres, where happy bUs And all dehght does raigne much more then this \ There thou maist love, and deai-ly loved be. And swimiapleasure,which thou here doestmis ; There maist thou best be seene, and best maist see : The wood is fit for beasts, the Court is fitt for Thee." XL. " Whoso in pompe of prowd estate," quoth she, " Does swim, and bathes himselfe in courtly bUa^ Does waste his daies in darke obscuritee, And in obhvion ever buried is : Where ease abownds, yt's eath to doe amis : But who his limbs with labours, and his mynd Behaves with cares, cannot so easy mis. Abroad in armes, at home in studious kynd. Who seekes with painfull toUe, shall Honor soonest fynd: XLI. " In woods, in waves, in wan-es, she wonts to dwell, And wil be found with periU and with paine ; Ne can the man, that moulds in ydle cell. Unto her happy mansion attaine ; Before her gate High God did Sweate ordaine, And wakefull Watches ever to abide : But easy is the way and passage plaine To Pleasures pallace ; it may soone be spide. And day and night her dores to all stand open wide. " In Princes Court" — The rest she would have sayd. But that the foolish man, (fild with delight Of her sweete words that all his sence dlsmayd. And with her wondrous beauty ravisht quight,) Gan bume in filthy lust ; and, leaping light. Thought in his bastai'd armes her to embrace. With that she, swarving backe, her iavelin bright Against him bent, and fiercely did menace : So turned her about, and fled away apace. Which when the Pesaunt saw, amazd he stood, And grieved at her flight ; yet durst he not Pursew her steps through wild imlmowen wood j Besides he feard her wrath, and threatned shott. Whiles in the bush he lay, not yet forgott : Ne car'd he greatly for her presence vayne. XL. 7. Behaves] Here is an instance of behaves used in its primitive sense. Germ, haben, Anglo-S. habban, 3ehabbaD, topossess, use, or occupy : Somn. * 'Wlio behaves, employes, uses &c. his limbs with labour, and his mind with cares," i. e. with study, and thought ; as cura is used in Latin. Upton. xLii. 6 . bastard armes'] That is, base arms. Todd. XLiii. 6. Ne car'd he greatly for her presence vayue,] That is, useless j her presence was of no service or use to hija- UproH. 80 THE FAERIE QUEENE. [book II. But turning said to Trompart ; " What fowle blott Is this to Knight, that Lady should agayne Depart to woods untoucht, and leave so proud disdayne ! " XLIV. " Pei'dy," said Trompart, "lett her pass at will, Least by her presence daunger mote befall. For who can teU (and sure I feare it ill) But that shee is some powre celestiall i For, whiles she spake, her great words did appall My feeble corage, and my heart oppresse. That yet I quake and tremble over aU." " And I," said Braggadoochio, " thought no lesse. When first I heard her horn sound with such ghastlinesse, XLV. " For from my mothers wombe this grace I have Me given by eternall destiny. That earthly thing may not my corage brave Dismay with feare, or cause one foote to flye. But either hellish feends, or powres on hye : Which was the cause, when earst that home I heard. Weening it had beeie thunder in the skye, I hid my selfe from it, as one affeard ; But, when I other' knew, my self I boldly reard. " But now, for feare of worse that may betide, Let us soone hence depart." They soone agree : So to his steed he gott, and gan to ride As one unfitt therefore, that all might see He had not trayned bene in chevalree. Which well that valiaunt courser did disceme ; For he despisd to tread in dew degree, [sterne, But chaufd and fom'd with corage fiers and And to be easd of that base burden still did erne CANTO IV. Guyon does Furor bind in cbafne% And stops Occasion : Delivers Piiaon, and tlierefore By Strife is raylii uppon. In brave poursultt of honorable deed. There is I know not what great difference Betweene the vulgar and the noble seed. Which unto things of valorous pretence Seemes to be borne by native influence ; As feates of armes ; and love to entertaine : But chiefly skill to ride seemes a science Proper to gentle blood : Some others faine To menage steeds, as did this Vaunter ; but in But he, the rightfull owner of that steede. Who well could menage and subdew his pride, The whiles on foot was forced for to yeed With that blaeke Pahner, his most trusty guide, Who suffred not his wandring feete to slide ; xLUi. 9. Depart to woods untoucht, and leave so proud disdayne f] Untoucht, intacta. And leave so proud dis- ayne, i. e- And leave so proud a disdain behiud her ; or, and leave us so disdainfully. Upton But when strong pasaon, or weake fleshlinesse, Would from the right way seeke to draw him wide, [uesse. He would, through temperaunce and stedfast- Teach him the weak to strengthen, and the strong suppresse. m. It fortuned, forth faring on his way. He saw from far, or seemed for to see. Some troublous uprore or contentious fray. Whereto he drew in hast it to agree. A Mad Man, or that feigned mad to bee. Drew by the heare along upon the grownd A haudsom Stripling with great crueltee. Whom sore he bett, and gor'd with many a wownd. That cheelies with teares, and sydes with blood, did all abownd. And him behyiid a wicked Hag did stalke, In ragged robes and filthy disaray ; Her other leg was lame, that she no'te walke. But on a staffe her feeble steps did stay : Her lockes, that loathly were and hoarie gray, Grew all afore, and loosly hong unrold ; But all beliinde was bald, and wome away. That none thereof could ever taken hold ; And eke her face ill-favour'd, fuH of wrincMes old. V. And, ever as she went, her toung did walke In fowle reproch and termes of vile despight. Provoking him, by her outrageous talke, To heape more vengeance on that wretched wight: Sometimes she raught bitn stones, wherwith to smite; Sometimes her stafie, though it her one leg were, Withouten which she could not goe upright ; Ne any evil meanes she did forbeare. That might him move to wrath, and indignation reare. vr. The noble Guyon, mov'd with great remorse, Approching, first the Hag did thrust away ; And after, adding more impetuous forse, His mighty hands did on the Madman lay. And pluckt him backe ; who, all on fire streight- way,_ Against him turning all his fell intent. With beastly brutish rage gan him assay. And smott, and bitt, and kickt, and scratcht, and rent. And did he wist not what in his avengement. VII. And sure he was a man of mickle might, Had he had governaunce it well to guyde : But, when the frantick fitt inflamd his spright. His force was vaine, and strooke more often wyde Then at the aymed marke which he had eyde ; And oft himselfe he chaunst to hurt unwares, Whylest reason, blent through passion, nought descryde ; But, as a blindfold buU, at randou fares. And where he hits nought knowes, and whom he hurts nought cares. V. 3. - vn. 8. Todd. ■ him,] Furor. Church. — at randon] The old spelling of random. CA.Vl'O IV.J THE FAEHIE QUEENE. 8i His rude assault aud rugged handeling Straunge seemed to the Knigflt, that aye with foe In feyre defence and goodly menaging Of armes was wont to fight ; yet nathemoe Was he abashed now, not fighting so ; But, more enfieroed through his currish play. Him sternly grypt, aud, hailing to and fro, To overthrow him strongly did assay. But OYerthrew himselfe unwares, and lower lay : And being downe the Villein sore did beate And bruze with clownish fistes his manly face : And eke the Hag, with many a bitter threat. Still cald upon to kill him in the place. With whose reproch, and odious menace. The Knight emboyling in his haughtie hart Knitt all his forces, and gan soone unbrace His grasping hold : so hghtly did upstart. And drew his deadly weapon to maintaine his part. Which when the Palmer saw, he loudly cryde, " Not so, Guyon, never thinke that so That Monster can be maisti'ed or destroyd : He is not, ah ! he is not such a foe. As Steele can woimd, or strength can overthroe. That same is Fiiror, cursed cruel wight, [woe ; That unto knighthood workes much shame and And that same Hag, his aged mother, hight Occasion ; the roote of all wrath and despight. " With her, whoso will raging Furor tame. Must first begin, and well her amenage : First her restraine from her reprochfuU blame And evill meanes, with which she doth enrage Her frantick sonne, and Idndles his corSge ; Then, when she is withdrawne or strong with- It's eath his ydle fury to aswage, [stood. And calme the tempest of his passion wood : The bankes are overflowne when stopped is the fiood." Therewith Sir Guyon left his first emprise. And, turning to that Woman, fast her hent By the hoare lockes that hong before her eyes, And to the groimd her threw : yet n'ould she Her bitter rayUng and foule revilement ; [stent But still provokt her sonne to wreake her wrong ; But nathelesse he did her still torment. And, catching hold of her ungratious tong. Thereon an yron lock did fasten firme and strong. Then, whenas use of speach was from her reft. With her too crooked handes she signes did make. viiL 9. lower] That is, low. Church. IX. 1. And being downe\ That is, Him (Guyon) being downe, &c. Church. IX. 4. Still cald upon &c.] That is, Still called upon him to kill &c. An ellipsis. T. Warton. XI. 2. -^menage:] Manage^ carriage. Amenage, Taction d'amener. Upton. XI. 8. wood :] Mad. Todd. XII. 4. stent] Stint, restrain. Church. xii. 7. he] Sir Guyon. Church. And beckned him ; the last help she had left : But he that last left helpe away did take. And both her handes fasi; bound unto a stake. That she no*te stirre. Then gan her sonne to flye Full fast away, and did her quite forsake : But Guyon after him in hast did hye. And soone him overtooke in sad perplexitye. In his strong armes he stifly him embraste. Who him gain-striving nought at all prevaild ^ For all his power was utterly defaste. And furious fitts at earst quite weren quaild : Oft he re'nforst, and oft his forces fayld. Yet yield he would not, nor his rancor slacke. Then him to gi'ound he cast, and rudely hayld. And both his hands fast bound behind his backe. And both his feet in fetters to an yron racke. With himdred yron chaines he did him bind, And hmidred knots, that did him sore constraine; Yet his great yron teeth he still did grind And grimly gnash, threataing revenge in vaine : His burning eyen, whom bloody strakes did staine, Stared full wide, and threw forth sparkes of fyre ; And, more for ranck despight then for great paine, Shakt his long locks colourd like copperwyre. And bitt his tawny beard to shew his raging yre. Thus whenas Guyon Furor had captivd. Turning about he saw that wretched Squyre, Whom that Mad Man of life nigh late deprivd, Lying on ground, all soild with blood and myre : Whom whenas he perceived to respyre. He gan to comfort, and his woundes to dresse. Being at last recured, he gan inquyre What hard mishap him brought to such distresse, And made that Caytives tlirall, the thrall (rf wretchednesse. With hart then throbbing, and with watry eyes, " Fayre Sir," quoth he, " what man can shun the That hidden lyes unwares him to surpryse ? [hap, Misfortune waites advantage to entrap The man most wEvry in her whelming lap. So me weake wretch, of many weakest one, Unweeting and unware of such mishap, She brought to mischiefe through occasion. Where tliis same wicked ViUein did me Ught upon. " It was a faithlesse squu-e, that was the sourse Of all my sorrow and of these sad teares. With whom from tender dug of commune noursc Attonce I was upbrought ; and eft, when yeares More rype us reason lent to chose our peares, Ourselves in league of vowed love we knitt ; In which we long time, without gealous feares Or faultie thoughts, contynewd as was fitt ; And, for my part I vow, dissembled not a whitt. xiTi. 3. him] Her son. Church. xiu. 4. . he] Sir Guyon. Church. XIV. 4. at earst] Instantly. Church. XIV. 6. re'nforst,] Reinforced, made fresh at- tempts. Church. xTiii. 4. eft,] Afterwards. Church. 82 THE FAERIE QUEENE. [book II. " It was my fortune, commune to that age, To love a Lady fayrs of great degree. The which was borne of noble parentage. And set in highest seat of dignitee. Yet seemd no lesse to love then lovd to bee : Long I her serv'd, and found her faithful! still, Ne ever thing could cause us disagree : [will : Love, that two harts makes one, makes eke one Each strove to please, and others pleasui'e to fulfUl. sx. " My friend, hight Philemon, I did partake Of all my love and all my privitie ; Who greatly ioyous seemed for my sake. And gratious to that Lady, as to mee ; Ne ever wight, that mote so welcome bee A s he to her, withouten blott or blame ; Ne ever thing, that she could think or see. But unto him she would impart the same : wretched man, that would abuse so gentle dame ! " At last such grace I found, and meanes I wrought. That I that Lady to my spouse had wonne ; Accord of friendes, consent of parents sought, Affyaunce made, my happinesse begonne. There wanted nought but few rites to be donne, Which marriage make : That day too farre did seeme ! Most ioyous man, on whom the shining sunne Did shew his face, myselfe I did esteeme. And that my falser friend did no less ioyous deeme. " But, ere that wished day his beame disclosd, He, either envying my toward good. Or of himselfe to treason ill disposd. One day unto me came in friendly mood. And told, for secret, how he understood That Lady, whom I had to me assynd. Had both distaind her honorable blood. And eke the faith which she to me did bynd ; And therefore -wisht me stay, till I more truth should fyud. xxiir. " The gnawing anguish, and sharp gelosy. Which his sad speach infixed in my brest, Ranckled so sore, and festred inwardly, That my engreeved mind could find no rest. Till that the tiiith thereof I did out wrest ; And him besought, by that same sacred band Betwixt us botli, to counsell me the best : He then mth solemne oath and plighted hand Assurd, ere long the truth to let me understand. " Ere long' with hke againe he boorded mee. Saying, he now had boulted all the fioure. And that it was a groome of base degree. Which of my Love was partner paramoure : XX. 1. / did partake] That is, I wade partaker ^0. Church. xxn. 2 my toward good,'] That is, my approaching happiness. Church. XXIV. 1. he bonrdedmee,] He addressed me. Todd. XXIV. 2 had boulted all the Jloure,'] Had sifted thewholeaffair; bolted it all to the very bran. Upton. Who used in a darkesome inner bowre Her oft to meete : Which better to approve, He promised to bring me at that howre, When I should see that would me nearer move. And drive me to withdraw my blind abused love. " This graeelesse man, for furtherance of his guile, Did court the handmayd of my Lady deare, Who, glad t' embosome his affection vile. Did all she might more pleasing to appeare. One day, to worke her to his will more neare. He woo'd her thus ; Pryene, (so she hight,) What great despight doth fortune to thee beare. Thus lowly to abase thy beautie bright. That it should not deface all others lesser light 2 " But if she had her least helpe to thee lent, T' adorne thy forme according thy desart. Their blazing pride thou wouldest soone have blent, [part ; And staynd their prayses with thy least good Ne should faire Claribell with all her art, Tho' she thy Lady be, approch thee neai'e : For proofe thereof, this evening, as thou ai't, Aray thyselfe m her most goi'geous geare, That I may more delight in fiiy embracement deare. " The mayden, proud through praise and mad through love. Him hearkned to, and soone herselfe arayd ; The whiles to me the treachour did remove His craftie engin ; and, as he had sayd, Me leading, in a secret corner layd, The sad spectatour of my tragedie : [playd. Where left, he went, and his owne false pai-t Disguised like that groome of base degree. Whom he had feignd th' abuser of my love to bee. " Eftsoones he came unto th' appointed place, And with him brought Pryene, rich arayd. In Claribellaes clothes : Her proper face I not descerned in that darkesome shade. But weend it was my Lore with whom he playd. Ah God ! what hon'our and tormenting griele My hart, my handes, mine eies, and all assayd ! Me liefer were ten thousand deathes priefe Then wounde of gealous worme, and shame of such repriefe. " I home retouming, fraught with fowle despight, And chawing vengeaunce all the way I went, Soone as my loathed Love appeard in sight. With wrathfuU hand I slew her innocent ; That after soone I dearely did lament : For, when the cause of that outrageous deede Demaunded I made plaine and evident. Her faultie handmayd, which that bale did breede, Confest how Philemon her wrought to chaunge her weede. xxvc. 7- as thou art,"] That is, lovely as thou art. Church. XXVI. 9. That T may more &c.] More is here used, as elsewhere, for //rctiiiy. Church. CANTO IV.] THE FAERIE QUEENE. 83 " Wliich when I heard, with horrible affright And hellish fury all enragd, I sought Upon myselfe that vengeable despight To punish : Yet it better first I thought To wreake my wrath on him, that first it To Philemon, false faytour Philemon, [wrought : I cast to pay that I so dearely bought : Of deadly drugs I gave him drinke anon. And washt away his guilt witli guilty potion. XXXI. " Thus heaping crime on crime, and griefe on griefe. To losse of Love adioyning losse of Frend, I meant to purge both with a third mischiefe, And in my woes beginner it to end : That was Pryene ; she did first offend. She last shovdd smart : With which eruell intent. When I at her my murdrous blade did bend. She fled away with ghastly dreriment. And I, poursewing my fell purpose, after went. xxxri. " Feare gave her winges, and Rage enf orst my flight ; Through woods and plaines so long I did her cliace. Till this Mad Man, whom your victorious might Hath now fast bound, me met in middle space : As I her, so he me poursewd apace. And shortly overtooke : I, breathing yre. Sore chauffed at my stay in such a cace. And with my heat kindled his eruell fyre ; Which kindled once, his mother did more rage inspyre. xxxrn. "Betwixt them both they have me doen to dye. Through wounds, and strokes, and stubborne handeling, That death were better then such agony. As griefe and fury vmto me did bring ; Of which in me yet stickes the mortall sting, That during hfe will never be appeasd !" When he thus ended had his sorrowing, [easd ; Said Guyon ; " Squyre, sore have ye beene dis- But all your hurts may soone through temperance be easd." XXXIV. Than gan the Palmer thus ; "Most wretched man. That to Affections does the bridle lend ! In their begmning they are weake and wan, [end : But soone through suff'rance growe to fearefull Whiles they are weake, betimes with them con- tend; For, when they once to perfect strength do grow, Strong warres they make, and eruell battry bend Gainst fort of Reason, it to overthrow : Wrath, Gelosy, Griefe, Love, this Squyre have laide thus low. XXXV. « Wrath, Gealosie, Griefe, Love, do thus expell : Wrath is a fire ; and Gealosie a weede ; Griefe is a flood ; and Love a monster fell ; The fire of sparkes, the weede of little seede, XXXIV. 2. That to Aflfectiona &c.] Affections, i. e. pas- si.ins. So the Latin, afectus. TJptoh. ji-xxv. 1. do thus expell :] That is, Do thou thus eN.pe 1. Presently after. So thus delay, i. e. See that thou dusi. I. us delay, put off, take away, &c. Upton. The flood of drops, the monster filth did breede : But sparks, seed, drops, and filth, do thus delay ; The sparks soone quench, the springing seed out- weed. The drops dry up, and filth wipe cleane away : So shall Wrath, Gealosy, Griefe, Love, die and decay." XXXVI. " Unlucky Squire," saide Guyon, " sith thou hast Falne into mischiefe through intemperaunce, Henceforth take heede of that thou now hast past, And guyde thy waies with warie governaunce, Least worst betide thee by some later chaunce. But read how art thou nam'd, and of what kin." "Phaon I hight," quoth he, "anddoadvaunce Mine anncestry from famous Coradin, Who first to rayse oiu: house to honour did begin." xxxvir- Thus as he spake, lo ! far away they spyde A Varlet ronning towardes hastily. Whose flying feet so fast their way applyde. That round about a cloud of dust did fly, Which, mingled all with sweate, did dim his eye. He soone approehed, panting, breathelesse, whot. And all so soyld, that none could him descry ; His countenaunce was bold, and bashed not For Guyons lookes, but scornefull ey-glaunce at Mm shot, XXXVIII. Behind his backe he bore a brasen shield. On which was drawen faire, in colours fit, A flaming fire in midst of bloody field. And round about the wreath this word was ^-it, Bui-nt I doe hwrne : Right well beseemed it To be the shield of some redoubted Knight : And in his hand two dartes exceeding flit And deadly sharp he held, whose heads were dight In poyson and in blood of malice and despight. When he in presence came, to Guyon first He boldly spake; "Sir Knight, if Knight thou Abandon this forestalled place at erst, [bee. For feare of further harme, I covinsell thee ; Or bide the chaunce at thine owne ieopardee." The Knight at his great boldnesse wondered ; And, though he scorn'd his ydle vanitee, Yet mildly him to purpose answered ; For not to grow of nought he it coniectured ; XL. " Varlet, tliis place most dew to me I deeme, Yielded by him that held it forcibly : [dost seeme But whence shold come that harme, which thou To threat to him that mindeshis chaunce t' abye V " Perdy," sayd he, "here comes, and is hard by, A Knight of wondrous powre and great assay. That never yet encountred enemy, But did him deadly daunt, or fowle dismay ; Ne thou for better hope, if thou his presence stay." XLT. " How hight he," then sayd Guyon, " and from whence ? " « Pyrochles is his name, renowmed farre xxxvni. 4. this word] This motto. Todd. XL. 1. Varlet,] Page or Squire. In the old romancea varlet is a common phrase for these attendants upon Knights. ToDn. o 2 THE FAERIE QUEENE. LllOCK II For his bold feates and hardy confidence, Pull oft approvd in many a emell warre ; The brother of Cymochles ; both which arre The sonnes of old Aerates and Despight ; Aerates, sonne of Phlegeton and larre ; But Phlegeton is sonne of Herebus and Night ; But Herebus sonne of Aeternitie is bight. XLTI. " So from immortall race he does proceede. That mortall hands may not withstand .his might, Drad for his derring doe and bloody deed ; For all in blood and spoile is his deUght. His am I Atin, his in wrong and right. That matter make for him to worke upon. And stirre him up to strife and eruell fight. Fly therefore, fly this fearefuU stead anon. Least thy foolhardize worke thy sad confusion." " His be that care, whom most it doth conceme," Sayd he : " but whether with such hasty flight Art thou now bownd ? for well mote I discerne Great cause, that carries thee so swifte and light." " My Lord," quoth he, " me sent, and streight To seeke Occasion, where so she bee ; [behight For he is all disposd to bloody fight. And breathes out wrath and hainous crueltee ; Hard is his hap, that first fals in his ieopardee." " Mad man,'' said then the Palmer, " that does seeke Occasion to wrath, and cause of strife ; Shee comes unsought, and shonned foUowes eke. Happy ! who can abstaine, when Rancor rife Kindles Revenge, and threats his rusty knife : Woe never wants, where every cause is caught ; And rash Occasion makes \mquiet fife ! " " Then loe ! wher bound she sits, whom thou hast sought," [brought." Said Guyon ; " let that message to thy Lord be XLV. That when the Varlett heard and saw, straightway He wexed wondrous wroth, and said ; " Vile Knight, [upbray. That knights and knighthood doest with shame And shewst th' ensample of thy childishe might. With silly weake old woman thus to fight ! Great glory and gay spoile sure hast thou gott, And stoutly prov'd thy puissaunce here in fight! That shall Pyrochles well requite, I wott. And with thy blood abohsh so reprochfull blott." With that, one of his thrillant darts he threw. Headed with yre and vengeable despight : The quivering Steele his aymed end wel knew. And to his brest itselfe intended right : But he was wary, and, ere it empight In the meant marke, advaunst his shield atween, On which it seizing no way enter might. But backe rebownding left the forckhead keene : Eftsoones he fled away, and might no where be seene. CANTO V. PyrochleB does with Guyon fiRlit, And Furors chayne untycB, Who him sore wounds ; w hilea Atin to Cymochles for ayd flyes. Whoever doth to Temperaunce apply His stedfast fife, and all his actions frame. Trust me, shal find no greater enimy. Then stubbome Perturbation, to the same ; To which right wel the wise doe give that name ; For it the goodly peace of staled mindes Does overthrow, and troublous warre proclanie ; His owne woes author, who so bound it findes. As did Pyrochles, and it wilfully unbindes. n. After that Varlets flight, it was not long Ere on the plaine fast priclcing Guyon spide One in bright armes embatteiled full strong. That, as the sunny beames do glaunce and glide Upon the trembling wave, so shined bright. And round about him threw forth sparkling fire, That seemd him to enflame on every side : His steed was bloody red, and fomed yre, [stire. When with the maistring spur he did him roughly . ifi. Approching nigh, he never staid to greete, Ne chaffar words, prowd corage to provoke. But prickt so fiers, that underneath his feete The smouldring dust did rownd about him smoke, Both horse and man nigh able for to choke ; And, fayrly couching his steeleheaded speare. Him first saluted with a sturdy stroke : It booted nought Sir Guyon, comming neare, To thincke such hideous puissaunce on foot to beare ; IV. But lightly shunned it ; and, passing by. With his bright blade did smite at him so fell, That the sharpe Steele, arriving forcibly On his broad sliield, bitt not, but glauncing fell On his horse necke before the quilted sell. And from the head the body aundred quight : So him dismounted low he did compell On foot with him to matchen equall fight ; The truncked beast fast bleeding did him fowly dight. V. Sore brazed with the fall he slow uprose. And all enraged thus him loudly shent ; " Disleall Knight, whose coward corage chose To wreake itselfe on beast all innocent. And shundthe marke at which it should be raent ; Therby thine armes seem strong, but manhood frayl : xin. 3. - XLII. 8. - XLIII. 5. Church. XLVI. 1. ' ToPD. - his derring doe] His daring deeds. Todd. - atead] That la, sted, place. Church, — atreight behight] Strictly commanded. — his thrillant darts'] Hia piercing darta. II. 9. atire.] Stir, incite. Lat. incitare. Church. IV. 9. The truncked least] The beast whose bodif teas without the head. Lat. truneatus, maimed or mangled. Todd. V. 2. . shent ;] Reproached, blamed. Ufton. V. 3. Disleall Knight,] The word disleall, from the Italian disleale, frequently occurs in the old romances, and carries with it the highest affront, signifying perfidious, treacherous, &c. Todd. Ibid. corage] Corape is heart, or mind. Coragium, in the base Latinity, was used for cor. Upton. CANTO T.] THE FAERIE QUEENE. 85 So hast thou oft with gmle tliine honor blent ; But litle may such guile thee now avayl, If wonted force and fortune doe me not much fayl." v/. With that he drew his flaming sword, and strooke At him so fiercely, that the upper marge Of his seveufolded shield away it tooke, And, glauncing on his helmet, made a large And open gash therein : were not his targe That broke the violence of his intent, The weary sowle from thence it would discharge ; Nathelesse so sore a buff to him it lent. That made him reele, and to his brest his bever bent. Exceeding wroth was Guyon at that blow. And much ashamd that stroke of Uving arme Should hJTTi dismay, and make him stoup so low, Though otherwise it did him litle harme : Tho, hurling high his yron- braced arme. He smote so manly on his shoulder plate. That all his left side it did quite disarme ; Yet there the steel stayd not, but inly bate Deepe in his flesh, and opened wide a red flood- gate. Till. Deadly dismayd with horror of that dint Pyrochles was, and giieved eke entyre ; Yet nathemore did it his fury stint, But added flame unto his former fire. That wel-nigh molt his hart in raging yre : Ne thenceforth his approved skill, to ward. Or strike, or hurtle rownd in warhke gyre, Remembred he, ne car'd for his saufgard. But rudely rag'd, and Uke a cruell tygre far'd. IX. He hewd, and lasht, and foynd, and thondred And every way did seeke into his life ; [blowes, Ne plate, ne male, could ward so mighty throwes. But yielded passage to his cruell knife. But Guyon, in the heat of all his strife, "Was wary wise, and closely did awayt Avauntage, wMIest his foe did rage most rife ; Sometimes athwart, sometimes he strook him strayt, And falsed oft his blowes t' Ulude him with such bayt. X. Like as a lyon, whose imperiall powre A prowd rebellious unicorn defyes, T' avoide the rash assault and wrathful stowre Of his fiers foe, him to a tree applyes. And when him ronning in full course he spyes, He shps aside ; the whiles that furious beast V. 7. blent;] Confounded, spoiled with mixing. Anglo-Sax. blenban, miscere, confundere. Upton. VII. 8. iut inly 'baiej IheXia, did bite. Upton. virr. 7. Or strike, or hurtle rovond in warlike gyre,'] " To hurtle rownd in warlike gyre," is to skirmish whecl- jftg round the foe, trying to strike him with advantage. Upton. K. ] foynd,] Pushed as in fencing. Ft. foin, n thrnst, poindre, ferire. Upton. IX. 9. And falsed oft his blowes'] That is, he made feints ; bafalsified his thrust in fencing by making feigned passes. From the Ital. /aisare. Upton. His precious home, sought of his enimyes, Strikes in the stocke, ne thence can be releast, But to the mighty victor yields a bounteous feast. X[. With such faire sleight him Guyon often fayld, Till at the last all breathlesse, weary, faint. Him spying, with fresh onsett he assayld. And, Idndlmg new his corage seeming queint, Strooke him so hugely, that through great con- straint He made liim stoup perforce unto liis knee. And doe unwilling worship to the Saint, That on his shield depainted he did see ; Such homage tiU that instant never learned hee. XII. "Whom Guyon seeing stoup, poursewed fast The present offer of faire victory. And soone his dreadful! blade about he cast. Wherewith he smote his haughty crest so hye. That streight on grownd made him full low to lye ; Then on lus brest his victor foote he thrust : With that he cryde ; " Mercy, doe me not dye, Ne deeme thy force by fortunes doome uniust, That hath (maugre her spight) thus low me laid in dust." XIII. Eftsoones his cruel hand Su- Guyon stayd, Tempring the passion with advizement slow. And maistring might on euimy dismayd ; For th' equall die of warre he well did know : Then to him said ; " Live, and alleagaunce owe To him, that gives thee life and Uberty ; And henceforth by this daies ensample trow. That hasty wroth, and heedlesse hazardry. Doe breede repentaunce late, and lastmg infamy." So up he let him rise ; who, with grim looke And count'naunce Sterne upstanding, gan to grind His grated teeth for great disdeigne, and sliooke His sandy lockes, long hanging downe behind. Knotted in blood and dust, for grief of mind That he in ods of armes was conquered ; Yet in himselfe some comfoit he did find. That him so noble Knight had maystered ; "Whose bounty more then might, yet both, he wondered. XV. Which Guyon marking said ; " Be nought agriev'd, Sir Knight, that thus ye now subdewed arre : Was never mam, who most conquestes atchiev'd, But sometimes had the worse, and lost by warre ; Yet shortly gaynd, that losse exceeded farre : Losse is no shame, nor to bee lesse then foe ; But to bee lesser then himselfe doth marre Both loosers lott, and victours prayse als6e : "Vaine others overthrowes who selfe doth overthrow. XI. 1. fayld,] Deceived. Lat. fallrre. Church. XI. 4 queint,] For ((KmcTii, extinguished. Church. XII. 7. he] Pyrochles. Church. XIII. 7 trow,] Believe. Church. XIV. 9 bounty] Generosity. Church. XV. 3. — ■ — ■ most] Greatest. Todd. XV. 6. Tet shortly gaynd, that losse exceeded farre .■] The which gain far exceeded the loss. Upton. XV. 7. But to hee lesser then himselfe] This is a Grecism, r,r?wv £«uTou, minor, i. e. inferior seipso. Upton. 86 THE FAEE.IE QUEENE. [book II. " Fly, Pyrochles, fly the dreadful warre That in thyselfe thy lesser partes do move ; Outrageous Anger, and woe-working larre, Direful! Impatience and hart-mm-dring Love : Those, tliose thy foes, those warriours.far remove, Which thee to endlesse bale captived lead. But, sith in might thou didst my mercy prove, Of oourtesie to mee the cause aread That thee against me drew with so impetuous dread." " Dreadlesse," said he, " that shall I soone declare : It was complaind that thou hadst done great tort Unto an aged Woman, poore and bare. And thralled her in chaines with strong effort, Voide of all succour and needful! comfdrt : That ill beseeraes thee, such as I thee see. To worke such shame : Therefore I thee exhort To chaunge thy wUl, and set Occasion free. And to her captive Sonne yield his first libertee." Thereat Sir Guyon smylde ; " And is that all," Said he, " that thee so sore displeased hath ? Great mercy sure, for to enlarge a thrall. Whose freedom shall thee tui-ne to greatestscath ! Nath'lesse now quench thy whott emboyUng wrath : Loe ! there they bee ; to thee I yield them free.'' Thereat he, wondrous glad, out of the path Did lightly leape, where he them bound did see. And gan to breake the bands of their captivitee. Soone ag Occasion felt her selfe untyde. Before her Sonne could well assoyled bee. She to her use retumd, and streight defyde Both Guyon and Pyrochles ; th' one (said shee) Bycause he wonne ; the other, because hee Was wonne : So matter did she make of nought, To stu-re up strife, and garre them disagree : But, soone as Furor was enlargd, she sought To kindle his quencht fyre, and thousand causes wrought. It was not long ere she inflam'd him so. That he would algates mth Pyrochles fight. And his redeemer dialengd for his foe. Because he had not well mainteind his right. But yielded had to that same straunger Knight. Now gan Pyrochles wex as wood as hee, And him affronted with impatient might : So both together fiers engrasped bee, [see. Whyles Guyon standing by their uncouth strife does XXI, Him all that while Occasion did provoke Against Pyrochles, and new matter fram'd Upon the old, him stirring to bee wroke xvri. 3. Great mercy &c.] Fr. Grandmerci. A great favour ; it deserves great thanks ! Ironically spoken. Church. xvni. 4. scath !] Damage. Todd, XVIII. 5. whott] Whot was no uncommon spelling of hot. Todd. XIX. 2, assoyled] Heteased, or freed. Todd. XIX. 7. iiane] Cause. Todd, XX, 7. affronted] Opposed. Todd. Of liis late wronges, in which she oft him blam'd For suffering such abuse as knighthood sham'd. And him dishabled quyte : But he was wise, Ne would with vaine occasions be inflam'd ; Yet others she more urgent did devise : Yet notliing could him to impatience entise. Their fell contention still increased more. And more thereby increased Furors might. That he his foe has hurt and wounded sore. And him in blood and durt deformed quight. His Mother eke, more to augment his spight, Now brought to him a flaming fyer-brond. Which she in Stygian lake, ay burning bright, Had kindled : that she gave into his bond. That armd with fire more hardly he mote him with- stond. Tho gan that Villein wex ao fiers and strong. That nothing might sustaine his fm-ious forse : He cast him downe to groimd, and all along Drew him through durt and niyre without re- And fowly battered his comely corse, [morse, That Guyon much disdeignd so loathly sight. At last he was compeld to cry perforse, " Help, Sir Guyon ! helpe, most noble Knight, To ridd a wretched man from handes of heUish wight !" XXIV. The Knight was greatly moved at his playnt. And gan him dight to succour his distresse. Till &at the Palmer, by his grave restraynt, Him stayd from yielding pitifuU redresse, And said ; " Deare Sonne, thy causeless ruth re- Ne let thy stout hart melt in pitty vayne : [presse. He that his sorrow sought through wiUulnease, And his foe fettred would release agayne. Deserves to taste his follies fruit, repented payne." Guyon obayd : So him away he drew From needlesse trouble of renewing fight Already fought, his voyage to poursew. But rash Pyrochles varlett, A tin hight. When late he saw his Lord in heavie plight. Under Sir Guyons puissaunt stroke to fall, Him deeming dead, as then he seemd in sight, Fledd fast away to tell his fimerall Unto his brother, whom Cymochles men did call. XXVI. He was a man of rare redoubted might. Famous throughout the world for warlike prayse, And glorious spoUes, purchaat in perilous fight : Full many doughtie Imightes he in his dayes Had doen to death, subdewde in equall frayes ; Whose carkases, for terrour of his name. Of fowles and beastes he made the piteous prayes, And hong their conquerd armes for more defame On gaUow trees, in honour of his dearest Dame. XXVI r. His dearest Dame is that Enchaunteresse, The vyle Acrasia, that with vaine delightcs, XXI. 6. dishabled] Lessened. Lat. eztenuare. CHIJRnH. XXIV, 2, And gan him dight] And was making himsel) ready. Chubch. CANTO v.] THE FAERIE QUEENE. 87 And ydle pleasures in her Bowre of Bliase, Does charme her lovers, aaid the feeble sprightes Can call out of the bodies of fraile wightes ; Whom then she does trasforme to monstrous hewes. And horribly misshapes with ugly sightes, Captiv'd eternally in yron mewes And darksom dens, where Titan his face never shewes. xxvnu There Atin fo^vnd Cymochles soiourning. To serve his Lemans love : for he by kynd Was given all to lust and loose living. Whenever his tiers handes he free mote fynd : And now he has pourd out his ydle mynd In daintie delices and lavish ioyes. Having his warlike weapons cast behynd. And flowes in pleasures and vaine pleasing toyes, Mingled emongst loose ladies and lascivious boyes. And over him art, stryvuig to compayre With nature, did an arber greene dispred, Fi-anied of wanton yvie, flouring fayre, Tlu-ough which the fragrant eglantine did spred His priclding armes, entrayld with roses red. Which daintie odours roimd about them threw : And all within with flowres was garnished. That, when myld Zephyms emongst them blew. Did breath out bounteous smels, and painted colors shew. And fast beside there trickled softly downe A gentle sti-eame, whose murmuring wave did play Emongst the pumy stones, and made a so%vne. To lull him soft asleepe that by it lay : The wearie traveller, wandring that way, Therein did often quench his thristy heat, And then by it liis wearie limbes display, (Whiles creeping slomber made him to forget His former payne,) and wypt away his toilsom sweat. Anl on the other syde a pleasaunt grove Was shott up high, fuU of tlie stately tree That dedicated is t' Olympick love. And to his sonne Alcides, whenas hee In Nemus gayned goodly victoree : Therein the mery birdes of every sorte Chaunted alowd their chearefull harmonee. And made emongst themselves a sweete cons6rt. That quiclmed the dull spright with musicall com- fort xxirr. There he him foimd all carelesly displaid, In secrete shadow from the sunny ray. On a sweet bed of lilhes softly laid. Amidst a flock of damzelles fresh and gay. That rownd about him dissolute did play Their wanton follies and hght meriment ; 3cxvri. 8. in yron mewes] Prisons. Todd. .■ixvni. 2. his Lemans love :] The word leu an, which often occurs in our old romances and poetry, sig- nifies a sweetheart, a concubine. Todd. Iijid. iij, kynd'} From his natural disposition. Church. ixviii. n. delices] Delights. Todd. Every of which did loosely disaray Her upper partes of meet habiliments. And shewd them naked, deckt with many orna- ments. XXXTIJ. And every of them strove with most dehghts Him to aggrate, and gi-eatest pleasures shew : Some framd faire lookes, glancing Uke evening lights ; Others sweet wordes, dropping like honny dew . Some bathed kisses, and did soft embrew The sugred hcour through his melting lips : One boastes her beautie, and does yield to vew Her dainty limbes above her tender hips ; Another her out boastes, and all for tryaU strips. He, like an adder lurking in the weedes. His wandring thought in deepe desire does steepe, And his frayle eye with spoyle of beauty feedes ; Sometimes he falsely faines himselfe to sleepe. Whiles through their lidshis wanton eies do peepe To steale a snatch of amorous conceipt. Whereby close fire into his hart does creepe : So' he them deceives, deceivd in his deceipt. Made dronke with drugs of deare voluptuous re- ceipt. XXXV. Atin, arriving there, when Mm he spyde Thus in still waves of deepe delight to wade. Fiercely approching to him lowdly cryde, " Cymochles ; oh ! no, but Cymochles shade. In which that manly person late did fade ! What is become of great Aerates sonne ? Or where hath he hong up his mortall blade. That hath so many haughty conquests wonne ? Is all his force forlome, and all his glory donne 2 " Then, pricking him with his sharp-pointed dart. He said ; " Up, up, thou womanish weake Knight, That here in Ladies lap entombed art, Uumindfull of thy praise and prowest might. And weetlesse eke of lately-'\\Tought despight ; Whiles sad Pyrochles lies on sencelesse gi-ound, And groneth out his utmost grudging spright Through many a stroke and many a streaming wound. Calling thy help in vaine, that here in ioyes art dround." Suddeinly out of his dehghtfull dreame [more ; The Man awoke, and would have questiond But he would not endure that wofull theame For to dilate at large, but urged sore. With percing wordes and pittifuU implore, Him hasty to arise : As one affright With hellish feends, or Furies mad uprore. He then uprose, inflamd with fell despight. And called for his armes ; for he would algates fight: XXXIII. 1. most delights} That iB, greatest. Todd. xxxvii. 3. Bwfhe] Atin. Church. XXXVII. S, and pitti/uU implore.] Implort is here used as a substantive. Todd. X.1XVII. 9 would algates fight .•] Would Is/ all means fight. 88 THE FAERIE QITEENE. [book II Thsy bene ybrought ; he quickly does him dight. And lightly mounted passeth on his way ; Ne Ladies loves, ne sweet entreaties, might Appease his heat, or hastie passage stay ; For he as vowd to beene avengd that day ( That day itselfe him seemed all too long) On him, that did Pyrochles deare dismay : So proudly pricketh on his courser strong. And Atin ay hira pricks with spurs of shame and wrong. CANTO VI. Guyou is of immndcst Merth Led into loose desyre ; FightB with Cymocliles, whiles his bro- tlier biimes in furious fyre. A HARDER lesson to learue continence In ioyous pleasure then in grievous paine : For sweetnesse doth allure the weaker sence So strongly, that uneathes it can refraine From that which feeble nature covets faine : But griefe and wrath, that be her enemies And foes of life, she better can restraine : Yet Vertue vauntes in both her victories ; And Gruyon in them all shewes goodly maysteries. Whom bold Cymochles travelling to fiude, With cruell purpose bent to wreake on him The wrath which Atin kindled in his mind. Came to a river, by whose utmost brim Wayting to passe he saw whereas did swim Along the shore, as swift as glaunce of eye, A litle gondelay, bedecked trim With boughes and arbours woven cunningly. That like a litle forrest seemed outwardly. And idereiu sate a Lady fresh and fayre, Making sweet solace to herselfe alone : Sometimes she song as lowd as larke in ayre. Sometimes she laught, that nigh her breath was Yet was there not with her else any one, [gone ; That to her might move cause of merriment : Matter of merth enough, though there were none. She could devise ; and thousand waies invent To feed her foohsh humom* and vaine ioUiment. Which when far off Cymochles heard and saw. He lewdly cald to such as were abord The litle barke unto the shore to draw. And him to ferry over that deepe ford. Tde merry Mariner unto his word Soone hear kned, and her painted botestreightway Turnd to the shore, where that same w.arlike She in receiv'd ; but Atin by no way [Lord She would admit, albe the Knight her much did pray. V. Eftsoones her shallow ship away did slide, More swift then swallow sheres the liquid skye, Withouten oare or pilot it to guide. Or wmged canvas with the wind to fly : Onely she turnd a pin, and by and by It cut away upon the yielding wave, (Ne cared she her course for to apply,) For it was taught the way which slie would have. And both from rocks and flats itselfe could wisely And all the way the wanton Damsell found New merth her Passenger to entertaine ; For she in pleasaunt purpose did abound, And greatly ioyed merry tales to fayne. Of which a store-house did with her remaine ; Yet seemed, nothiug well they her became : For all her wordes she drownd with laughter vaine. And wanted grace in utt'ring of the same. That turned all her pleasaunce to a scoffing game. And other whiles value toyes she would devize. As her fantasticke wit id most delight : Sometunes her head she fondly would aguize With gaudy girlonds, or fresh flowrets dight About her necke, or rings of rushes plight : Sometimes, to do him laugh, she would assay To laugh at shaking of the leaves light. Or to behold the water worke and play About her little frigot, therein making way. Her Hght behaviour and loose dalliaunce Gave wondrous great contentment to the Knight, That of his way he had no sovenaxmce. Nor care of vow'd revenge and cruell fight ; But to weake wench did yield his martiall might. So easie was to quench his flamed minde With one sweete drop of sensuall dehght ! So easie is t*appease the stormy winde Of malice in the calme of pleasaunt womankind 1 Diverse discourses in their way they spent ; Mongst which Cymochles of her questioned Both what she was, and what that usage ment, Which in her cott she daily practized : " Vaine man," saide she, " that wouldest be reck- A straunger in thy home, and ignorauut [oned Of Phsedria, (for so my name is red,) Of Phsedria, thine owne fellow servafint ; For thou to serve Acrasia thy selfe doest vaunt. " In this wide inland sea, that hight by name The Idle Lake, my wandring ship I row. That knowesher port, and thether sayles by ayme, Ne care ne feare I how the wind do blow. Or whether swift I wend or whether slow : Both slow and swift alike do serve my toume ; Ne swelling Neptune ue lowd-thundring love Can chaungeray cheare, ormakemeevermourne ; My litle boat can safely passe this perilous bourne." T. 7. ^e cared she her course for to apply,] Nor was she concerned to mind which way she steered Church, VI 3. purpose] Conversation. Church, vu. 3. would aguize] Beck or adorn. Upton. VII. 5. of rushes plight :] Folded. T, Warton. vrii. 3. sovenaunce,] Remembrance. Fr. Chukch, IX. 4. cott] Cott is a little boat. Church. X. 9. this perilous bourne.] Bourn is simply nothing more than a boundary. T. Warton. CAMIO Vl.J THE FAERIE QUEENE. 8& Whiles thus she talked, and whiles thus she toyd, They were far past the passage which he spake, And come unto an Island waste and voyd, That floted in the midst of that great Lake ; There her small gondelay her port did make. And that gay payTe issewing on the shore Uisburdned her : Their way they forward take Into the land that lay them faire before, ftTiose pleasaunce she him shewd, and plentiful! great store. xn. It was a chosen plott of fertile land, Emongst wide waves sett, like a litle nest. As if it had by natures cunning hand Bene choycely picked out from all the rest, And laid forth for ensample of the best : No daintie flowre or herbe thatgrowes on grownd. No axborett with painted blossomes drest And smelling sweete, but there it might be fownd To bud out faire, and her sweete smels throwe al aroivnd. XIII. No tree, whose braunches did not bravely spring ; No brauneh, whereon a fine bu-d did not sitt ; No bird, but did her shrill notes sweetely sing ; No song, but did containe a lovely ditt. Trees, braimches, birds, and songs, were framed For to allure fraile mind to carelesse ease, [fitt Carelesse the man soone woxe, and his weake witt Was overcome of thing that did him please : So pleased did his wrathfull purpose faire appease. Thus when shee had his eyes and sences fed With false delights, and fild with pleasures vayn. Into a shady dale she soft him led. And layd him downe upon a grassy plajTi ; And her sweete selfe without dread or disdayn She sett beside, laying his head disarmd In her loose lap, it softly to sustayn. Where soone he slumbred fearing not be harmd: The whiles with a love lay she thus him sweetly charmd ; XV. " Behold, man, that toilesome paines doest take. The flowTS, the fields, and aU that pleasaunt growes. How they themselves doe thine ensample make. Whiles nothing envious nature them forth throwes Out of her fruitfull lap ; how, no man knowes. They spring, they bud, they blossome fresh and faire. And declie the world with their rich pompous showes ; Yet no man for them taketh paines or care. Yet no man to them can his carefull paines compare. xvr. " The liUy, lady of the flowring field. The flowre-deluce, her lovely paramoure. Bid thee to them thy fruitlesse labors yield. And soone leave o£f this toylsome weary stoure : xiri. 4. a lovely ditt.] Song or ditty, Todd. XV. 4. Whiles nothing envious nature &c.] Nothing en- vious nature is a Latinism : as nj.Liire ih nihil indigai so she is nihil i7tvida, Upton. Loe ! loe, how brave she decks her bounteous With silkin curtens and gold eoverletts, [boure. Therein to shrowd her sumptuous belamoure ! Yet nether spinnes nor cards, ne cai-es nor fretts. But to her mother nature aU her care she letts. " Why then doest thou, O man, that of them all Art Lord, and eke of nature Soveraine, Wilfully make thyseUe a wretched thrall. And waste thy ioyous howres in needlesse paine, Seeking for daunger and adventures vaine ? What bootes it al to have and nothing use ? Who shall him rew that swimming in the maine Will die for thrist, and water doth refuse ? Refuse such fruitlesse toile, and present pleasures chuse." XVI u. By this she had him lulled fast asleepe. That of no worldly thing he care did take : Then she with hquors strong his eies did steepe. That nothing should him hastily awake. So she him lefte, and did herselfe betake Unto her boat again, with which she clefte The slouthfull wave of that great griesy Lake : Soone shee that Island far behind her lefte. And now is come to that same place where first slu wefte. XIX. By this time was the worthy Guyon brought Unto the other side of that wide strond Where she was rowing, and for passage sought : Him needed not long call ; shee soone to hond Her ferry brought, where him she byding fond With his sad Guide : himselfe she tooke aboord, But the Blaeke Palmer suffred still to stond, Ne would for price or prayers once affoord To ferry that old man over the perlous foord. XX. Guyon was loath to leave his Guide behind. Yet being entred might not backe retyre ; For the flitt barke, obaying to her mind; Forth launched quickly as she did desire, Ne gave him leave to bid that aged sire Adieu, but nimbly ran her wonted course Through the duU billowes thioke as troubled mire. Whom nether wind out of their seat could forse. Nor timely tides did drive out of their sluggish sourse. xxr. And by the way, as was her wonted guize, Her mery fitt she freshly gan to reare. And did of ioy and ioUity devize, Herselfe to cherish, and her guest to cheare. The Knight was courteous, and did not forbeare Her honest merth and pleasaunce to partake ; But when he saw her toy, and gibe, and geare. And passe the bonds of modest merimake. Her dalliaimce he despis'd and folhes did forsake. XXIT. Yet she still followed her former style. And said, and did, all that mote him delight, XVI. 7. her sumptuous helamoure !] Her sump- tuous lover. Todd. XIX. 6. sad] Grave. Church. XXI. 7. and gibe, and geare,] To ffibe is to fcst, and geare is the old orthography of jeer. Todd 90 THE FAERIE Q,UEENE. [BOOli II. Till they arrived in that pleasamit He, Where sleeping late she lefte her other Knight. But, whenas Guyon of that land had sight. He wist himself'e apiisse, and angry said ; " Ah ! Dame, perdy ye have not doen me right. Thus to mislead mee, wliiles I you obaid : Me Utle needed from my right way to have straid.^' xxni. " Faire Sir," quoth she, " be not displeasd at all ; Who fares on sea may not commaund his way, Ne wmd and weather at his pleasure call : The sea is wide, and easy for to stray ; The wind unstable, and doth never stay. But herq a while ye may in safety rest. Till season serve new passage to assay : Better safe port then be in seas distrest." Theremth she laught, and did her earnest end in iest. xxrv. But he, halfe discontent, mote nathelesse Himselfe appease, and issewd forth on shore : The ioyes whereof and happy fruitfulnesse. Such as he saw, she gan him lay before, [more. And all, though pleasaunt, yet she made much The fields did laugh, the flowres did freshly spring. The trees did bud, and early blossomes bore ; And all the quire of birds did sweetly sing. And told that Gardins pleasm-es in their caroling. And she, more sweete then any bird on bough. Would oftentimes emongst them beare a part, And strive to passe (as she could well enough) Their native musicke by her skilful art : So did she all, that might his constant hart Withdraw from thought of warlike enterprize, And drowne in dissolute delights apart. Where noise of annes, or vew of martiall guize, Might not revive desh'e of knightly exercize ; xxvr. But he was wise, and wary of her will. And ever held his hand upon his hart ; Yet would not seeme so rude, and thewed ill, As to despise so cui'teous seeming part That gentle Lady did to him impart : But, fairly tempring, fond desire subdewd, And ever her desired to depart. She list not heare, but her disports poursewd. And ever bad liim stay till time the tide renewd. And now by this Cymochles howre was spent. That he awoke out of his ydle dreme ; And, shaking off his drowsy dreriment, Gan him avize, howe ill did him beseme In slouthfuU sleepe his molten hart to steme, And quench the brond of his conceived yre. Tho up he started, stird with shame extreme, xxri. 7. perdy] Hughes, in his Glossary, interprets perdie as an old oath, par dieu, Fr. Mr. Church believes the word to he used as an asseveration signifying verily, rather than as an oath, in Spenser. Todd. xxiri. 4. The sea is wide, and easy for to stray ;'} And easy to cause us to go astray. Upton. XXVI. 3. thewed ill,] Jll-bred, ill-mannered. Church. xxvii. 5. to steme,] That is, to exhale, to evapo- raU, his melted heart in sleep. Uiton. Ne staled for his Damsell to inquire. But marched to the strond, there passage to require. XXVI TI. And in the way he with Sir Guyon mett, Accompanyde with Phsedria the faire : Eftsoones he gan to rage, and inly frett. Crying ; " Let be that Lady debonaire, [paire Thou recreaunt Knight, and soone tliyselfe pre- To batteile, if thou meane her love to gayn. Loe ! loe already how the fowles in aire Doe flocke, awaiting shortly to obtayn Thy carcas for their pray, the guerdon of thy payn." XXIX. And there-withall he fiersly at him flew, And with importune outrage him assayld ; Who,sooneprepard tofield,his sword forth drew. And him with equaU valew countervayld : Their mightie strokes their haberieons dismayld, And naked made each others manly spalles ; The mortall Steele despiteously entayled Deepe in their flesh, quite tlu'ough the yron walles, That a large purple streame adown then- giambeux falles. XXX. Cymochles, that had never mett before So puissant foe, with envious despight His prowd presumed force increased more, Disdeigning to bee held so long in fight. Sir Guyon, grudging not so much his might As those unknightly raylinges which he spoke. With wrathfuU fire his corage kindled bright. Thereof devising shortly to be wroke. And doubling all his powres redoubled every stroke. Both of them high attonce their hands enhaunst, And both attonce their huge blowes down did Cymochles sword on Guyons shield yglauust. And thereof nigh one quarter sheard away : But Guyons angry blade so fiers did play On th' others helmett, which as Titan shone, That quite it clove his plumed crest in tway. And bared all his head unto the bone ; Where-with astonisht still he stood as seneelesse stone. xxxtr. Still as he stood, fajTe Phsedria, that beheld That deadly daunger, soone atweene them ran ; xxvm. 4 Let be] Let go. Church. Ibid. 4 that Lady debonaire,] Debonaire, applied to the Ladies, means elegant, winning, accomplished ; to Knights, courteous And Just. Todd. xxviir. 9. the guerdon of thy payn."] The reward of thy attempt to gain the Lady. Church. XXIX. 2. with imp6rtune outrage"] Importune is cruel, savage, &c. as importunus in Latin ; and thus Spenser has "importune fate." Todd. xxrx. 3. Who soone prepard to field.] That is, to battle Germ. /e?d, helium. Upton. xxrx. 5. haberieons] Sleeves, and Gorget of mail 1 armour covering the neck and breast. Todd. XXIX. 6. spalles;] Shoulders, Fr. espaules. Uiton xxi;c. 7 entayled] Entayled is usually employed for carved or engraved. Todd. XXIX. 9. adown their giambeux /aZZe*.] Giambeux, tYiaXis, boots. T. Warton. XXX. 3. presumed force"] Strer.gtli that he liad too high an opinion of. Church. CANTO VI.] THE FAERIE QUEENE. 95- And at their feet herselfe most humbly feld. Crying witli pitteous voyce,andcount'naneewan, " Ah, well away ! most noble Lords, how can Your cruell eyes endure so pitteous sight, To shed your lives on ground ? Wo worth the man. That first did teach the cursed Steele to bight Id his owne flesh, and make way to the living spright ! xxxrii. " If ever love of Lady did empierce Your y^on brestes, or pittie could find place, Withhold your bloody handesfrombattaill fierce ; And, sith for me ye fight, to me this grace Both yield, to stay your deadly stryfe a space." They stayd a while ; and forth she gau proceede : " Most wretched woman and of meked race, That am the authour of this haiuous deed. And cause of death betweene two doughtie Knights do breed ! XXXIV. " But, if for me ye fight, or me will serve. Not this rude kynd of battaill, nor these armes Are meet, the which doe men in bale to sterve. And doolefullsorrowe heapemth deadly harmes : Such cruell game my scarmoges disarmes. Another warre, and other weapons, I Doe love, where Love does give his sweet alarmes Without bloodshed, and where the enimy Does yield unto his foe a pleasaunt victory. " Debatefull strife, and cruell enmity. The famous name of knighthood fowly shend ; But lovely peace, and gentle amity. And in amours the passing howres to spend. The mightie raartiall handes doe most commend ; Of love they ever greater glory bore Then of their armes : Mars is Cupidoes friend. And is for Venus loves renowmed more Then all his wars and spoiles, the which he did of yore. xxxvr. Therewith she sweetly smyld. They, though full To prove extremities of bloody fight, [bent Yet at her speach their rages gan relent. And calme the sea of their tempestuous spight : Such powre have pleasing wordes ! Such is the Of com-teous clemency in gentle hart ! [might Now after all was ceast, the Faery Knight Besought that Damzell suffer him depart. And yield him ready passage to that other part. She no lesse glad then he desirous was Of his departure thence ; for of her ioy And vaine delight she saw he fight did pas, A foe of folly and immodest toy, XXXII. 7. Wo worth the man,'} That is. Cursed be the man. Church. XXX IV. 3. The which doe mm in bale to sterve,'} Which caubO mankind to perish in trouble, treapfan, mori ; though now used in a particular sense, to die with hunger. Upton. XXXIV. 5. Sueh cruell game my scarmoges disarmes.} Scarmoges, skirmislies. Ital. scaramuchia. Gall, escar- mouche. Upton. XXXVII. 3 He light did pas;} He made light of it ; he passed over lightly. Upton. Still solerane sad, or still disdainful! coy ; Delighting all in armes and cruell wari^e. That her sweet peace and pleasm-es did anno'/. Troubled with terrour and unquiet iarre, Tliat she well pleased was thence to amove him farre. XXXVITI. Tho him she brought abord, and her swift bote Forthwith directed to that further strand ; The which on the dull waves did lightly flote, And soone arrived on the shallow sand. Where gladsome Guyon sailed forth to land. And to that Damsell thankes gave for reward. Upon that shore he spyed Atin stand. There by his maister left, when late he far'd In Phsedrias flitt barck over that perlous shard. XXXIX. Well could he him remember, sith of late He with Pyrochles sharp debatement made ; Streight gan he him revyle, and bitter rate. As shepheardes cm're, that in darke eveninges shade Hath tracted forth some salvage beastcs trade : " Vile miscreaunt," said he, " whether dost thou flye [invade ? The shame and death, which will thee soone What coward hand shall doe thee next to dye. That art thus fowly fledd from famous enimy ? " With that he stifly shooke his steelhead dart : But sober Guyon hearing him so rayle. Though somewhat moved in his mightie hart. Yet with strong reason maistred passion fraile. And passed fayrely forth : He, turning taile, Backe to the strond retyrd, and there still stayd, Awaiting passage, which him late did faile ; The whiles Cymochles with that wanton Mayd The hasty heat of liis avowd revenge delayd. Whylest there the Varlet stood, he saw from fan-e An armed Knight that towardes him fast ran ; He ran on foot, as if in lucklesse warre His fdrlorne steed from him the victour wan : He seemed breathlesse, hartlesse, faint, and wan ; And all hi| armour sprinckled was with blood, And soyld with durtie gore, that no man can Discerne the hew thereof : He never stood. But bent his hastie course towardes the Ydle Flood. The Varlet saw, when to the Flood he came How without stop or stay he fiersly lept. And deepe himselfe beducked in the same. That in the Lake his loftie crest was stept, Ne of his safetie seemed care he kept ; But with his raging armes he rudely flasht xxxviii. 6. sailed] Salied, that is, leaped. Lat. salio. Chuhch. xxxviii. 9 that perlous shard.] That is. Bourn or boundary. T. Warton. XXXIX. 1. Well could he Mm remember,} That is, Atin well remembered Guyon. Church. XXXI X. 5. trade;] For (read, footsteps. Chukch, XL, 5 fayrely] So.niy. Todd. Ibid. He,] Atin. CnuncH. XL. 9. delayd.] Put away, removed from him Church. 92 THE FAERIE QUEENE. [book i: The waves about, and all Ms armour swept. That all the blood and filth away was washt ; Yet still he bet the water, and the billowes dasht. xxm. Atm drew nigh to weet what it mote bee ; For much he wondred at that lincouth sight: [see, Whom should he but his own deare Lord there His owne deare Lord Pyrochles in sad plight, Ready to drowne himselfe for fell despight : " Harrow now, out and well away ! " he cryde, " What dismaU day hath lent this cursed light. To see my Lord so deadly daranifyde ? I'yrochles, Pyrochles, what is thee betyde 1" XLIV. " I burne, £ burne, I bume," then lowd he cryde, " O how I burne with implacable fyre ! Yet nought can quench mine inly flaming syde. Nor sea of licom- cold, nor Lake of myre ; Nothing but death can doe me to respyre." " Ah ! be it," said he, " from Pyrochles farre After pursewing death once to requyre, [marre : Or think, that ought those puissant hands may Death is for wretches borne under unhappy starre." " Perdye, then is it fitt for me," said he, " That am, I weene, most wretched man ahve ; Burning in flames, yet no flames can I see, And, dying dayly, dayly yet revive : Atin, helpe to me last death to give ! " The Varlet at his plaint was grievd so sore. That his deepe-wounded hart in two did rive ; And, his owne health remembring now no more, Did follow that ensample which he blam'd afore. XLVI. Into the Lake he lept his Lord to ayd, (So love the dread of daunger doth despise,) And, of him catching hold, him strongly stayd From drowning ; but more happy he then wise Of that seas nature did him not avise : The waves thereof so slow and sluggish were, Engrost with mud which did them fowle agrise. That every weighty thing they did upbeare, Ne ought mote ever sinck downe to the bottom there. sLvir. Whyles thus they strugled in that Ydle Wave, And strove in vaine, the one himselfe to drowne, The other both from drowning for to save ; Lo ! to that shore one in an auncient gowne, Whose hoary locks great gravitie did crowne. Holding in hand a goodly arming sword. By fortune came, ledd with the troublous sowne : Where drenched deepe he fownd in that dull ford The carefiill servaunt stryving with his raging Lord. Him Atin spjing knew right well of yore. And lowdly eald ; "Help ! helpe, O Archimage, xLiii. 6. Harrow now, out and well away ! he cryde,'] Haro is a, form of exolamation anciently used in Nor- mandy, to call for help, or to raise the Hue and Cry. T. Warton. XLIII. 8. damnifyde ?] Injured. Todd. XLV. 5. helpe &o.] That is, Assist in putting an end to my misery. Church. XLVI. 5. — did him not avise :1 Did not bethink him- self. Fr. iaviser. Church. To save my Lord in wi-etched plight forlore ; Helpe with thy hand, or with thy counsell sage : Weakehandes,butcounseUis most strong in age." Him when the old man saw, he woundred sore To see Pyrochles there so rudely rage : Yet sithens helpe, he saw, he needed more Then pitty, he in hast approched to the shore, XLfX. And cald ; " Pyrochles, what is this I see ? What heUish fury hath at earst thee bent 1 Furious ever I thee laiew to bee. Yet never in this straunge astonishment." " These flames, these flames," he cryde, " doe me torment ! " [see " What flames," quoth he, " when I thee present In daunger rather to be drent then brent V [he, " Harrow ! the flames which me consume," said " Ne can be quencht, within my secret bowelles bee. L. " That cursed man, that cruel feend of hell. Furor, oh ! Furor hath me thus bedight : His deadly wovmdes within my Uver swell. And his whott fyre biu:nes in mine entrallea bright. Kindled through his iufemall brond of spight, Sith late with him I batteiU vaine would boste ; That now I weene loves dreaded thunderlight Does scorch not halfe so sore, nor damned ghoste In flaming Phlegeton does not so felly roste." Which whenas Archimago heard, his griefe He knew right well, and him attonce disarm'd : Then scarcht his secret woundes, and made a priefe Of every place that was with bruzing harmd. Or with the hidden fier inly warmd. [ apply de. Which doen, he balmes and herbes thereto And evermore with mightie spels them oharmd ; That in short space he has them qualifyde. And him restord to helth, that would have algates dyde. CANTO VII. Giiyon findea Mamroon in a delve SunniDg his threasure hore; l8 by him tempted, and led downe To see his secrete store. As pilot well expert in perilous wave. That to a stedfast starre his course hath bent. When foggy mistes or cloudy tempests have The faitlifuU light of that fau-e lampe yblent. And cover'd heaven with hideous dreriment ; Upon his card and compass firmes his eye. — . at earst] Suddenly. Church. - hent ?] Seized. Todd. — drent then brent T\ Drowned than burnt. XLIX. 2. - Ibid. — XLIX. 7. - Church. L. 9. so felly ro«(€.] Cruelly or fiercely. Ital. /^:^ lone. Todd. LI. 9. that would have algates dyde.] That had wished by all means to die. Todd. Arg. 2. his threasure hore ;] From the Anglo-S. hn^tij, sordidus, mucidus; not hoary, which is from hajl, canus. Upton. I. 5. dreriment ;] Darkness. Church. CANTO yn.] THE FAERIE QUEENE. The maystei-s of his long experiment. And to tliem does the steddy helme apply. Bidding his winged vessell fairely forward fly ; n. So Guyon having lost his trustie Guyde, Late left beyond that Ydle Lake, proceedes Yet on his way, of none a<:conipanyde ; And evermore himselfe with comfort feedes Of his own vertues and praise-worthie deedes. So, long he yode, yet no adventure found. Which Fame of her shriU trompet worthy reedes : For still he traveUd through wide wastfuU ground, Thatnoughtbut desert wilderuesseshewdaU around. At last he came unto a gloomy glade, [light, Cover'd with boughes and shrubs from heavens Whereas he sitting foimd in secret shade An uncouth, salvage, and uncivile Wight, Of griesly hew and fowle iU-favour'd sight ; His face with smoke was tand, and eies were bleard. His head and beard with sout were iU bedight. His cole-blacke hands did seeme to have ben seard In smythes fire-spitting forge, and nayles like ciawes appeard. IT. His yron cote, all overgrowne with rust. Was underneath enveloped with gold ; Whose glistring glosse, darkned with filthy dust. Well yet appeared to have beene of old A worke of rich entayle and curious mould, Woven with antickes and wyld ymagery : And in his lap a masse of coyne he told. And turned upside downe, to feede his eye And covetous desire with his huge threasury. V. And round about him lay on every side Great heapes of gold that never could be spent ; Of which some were rude owre, not purifide Of Mulcibers devouring element ; Some others were new di'iven, and distent Into great ingowes and to wedges square ; Some in round plates withouten moniment : But most were scampt, and in their metal bare The antique shapes of kings and Kesars stramig and rare. Soone as he Guyon saw, in great affright And haste he rose for to remove aside Those pretious hils from straungers envious sight. And downe them poured through an hole full Into the hollow earth, them there to hide : [wide But Guyon, Hghtly to him leaping, stayd His hand that trembled as one terrifyde ; And though himselfe were at the sight dismayd, ret him perforce restraynd, and to him doubtfull la. 9 In snipthes Jire-Bpiitmg &c.] Spett seems anciently to have more simply signified disperse, without the low idea which we at present affix to it. T. "Warton. IV. 5. . of rich eutayle,] Carving, sculpture. Ital. intagllare, intaglio. tTprON. v. 7. Borne in round plates withouten moniment ;] Spelt as the Ital. monimento ; meaning here, image, superscrip- tion, ornament', yt^^irfjut, gnorisma, monumentum. Upton. " What art thou, Man, (if man at all thou art,) That here in desert hast thine habitaunce. And these rich hils of welth dbest hide apart From the worldes eye, and from her right usaunce %" Thereat, with staring eyes fixed askaunce, In great disdaine he answerd ; " Hardy Elfe, That darest view my direfuU countenaunce ! I read thee rash and heedlesse of thyselfe. To trouble my still seate and heapes of pretious pelfe. VIIT. " God of the world and worldlings I me call, Great Mammon, greatest god below the skye. That of my plenty poure out unto all. And unto none my graces do envye : Riches, renowme, and principality. Honour, estate, and aU this worldes good. For which men swinck and sweat incessantly. Fro me do flow into an ample flood. And in the hollow eartli have their eternall brood. " Wherefore if me thou deigne to serve and sew. At thy commaund lo ! all these mountaines bee : Or if to thy great mind, or greedy vew. All these may not suffise, there shall to thee Ten times so much be nombredfrancke and free." " Mammon," said he, " thy godheads vaunt is And idle offers of thy golden fee ; [vaine. To them that covet such eye-glutting gaine Proffer thy giftes, and fitter servaunts entertaine. " Me ill besits, that ni derdoing armes And honours suit my vowed dales do spend. Unto thybounteous baytes and pleasing charmes. With which weakenienthouv/itchest,to attend ; Regard of worldly mucke doth fowly blend And low abase the high heroicke spright. That ioyes for crownes and kingdomes to contend : Faire shields, gay steedes, bright armes, be my deHght ; Those be the riches fit for an advent'rous Knidit." " Vaine glorious EUe," saide he, " doest not thou weet. That money can thy wantes at will supply ? Sheilds, steeds, and armes, and all things for thee It can purvay in twinckling of an eye ; [meet, And crownes and kingdomes to thee multiply. Do not I kings create, and throw the erowne Sometimes to him that low in dust doth ly. And him that raignd into his rowme thrust downe ; And, whom I lust, do lieape with glory and re- nowne ? " XII. " All otherwise," saide he, " I riches read. And deeme them roote of all disquietnesse ; First got with guile, and then preser v'd with dread. And after spent with pride and lavishnesse, Leaving behind them griefe and heavinesse : VIII. 7. For which men 8vffmck'\ Labour. Todd. IX. 1. and sew,] Follow. Fr. suivre. Upton. X. 1. Me ill besits,] It ill becomes me. Todd. K. 5. blend] Blemish. Church. 94 THE FAERIE QUEENE. [JOOK II. Infinite misohiefes of them doe arize ; Strife and debate, bloodshed and bittemesse, Outrageous wrong and hellish covetize ; That noble heart, as great dishonour, doth despize. XIIT. " Ne thine be Idngdomes, ne the scepters thine ; Butrealmes and rulers thou doest both confound, And loyall truth to treason doest incline : Witnesse the guiltlesse blood pourd oft on ground ; The crowned often slaine ; the slayer cround ; The sacred diademe in peeces rent ; And purple robe gored with many a wound ; Castles surprizd ; great cities sackt and brent : So mak'st thou kings, and gaynest wrongfull government 1 XTV. " Long were to tell the troublous stormes that tosse The private state, and make the life unsweet : Who swelling sayles in Caspian sea doth crosse. And in frayle wood on Adrian gulf doth fleet, Doth not, I weene, so many evils meet." Then Mammon wexing wroth ; " And why then," " Are mortall men so fond and undiscreet [sayd, So evill thing to seeke unto their ayd ; And, having not, complaine ; and, having it, upbrayd V XV. "Indeed," quoth he," through fowleintemperaunce, Frayie men are oft captiv'd to covetise : Hut would they thinke with how small allowaflnce Untroubled nature doth herselfe suffise. Such superfluities they would despise. Which with sad cares empeach our native ioyes. At the well-head the purest streames arise ; But mucky filth his braunching armes annoyes, And with uncomely weedes the gentle wave ac- cloyes. XV[. " The Antique world, in his flowring youth, Fownd no defect in his Creators grace ; But with glad thankes, and unreproved truth. The guifts of soveraine bounty did embrace : Like angels life was then mens happy cace : But later ages pride, like corn-fed steed, Abusd her plenty and fat-swolne encreace To all licentious lust, and gan exceed The measure of her meane and naturall first need. " Then gan a cursed hand the quiet wombe Of his great grandmother with Steele to wound, And the hid treasures in her sacred tombe With sacriledge to dig : Therein he fownd Fountaines of gold and silver to abownd. Of which the matter of his huge desire And pompous pride eftsoones he did compownd ; Then Avarice gan through his veines inspire His greedy flames, and kindled life-devouring fire." XIV. 6. And loliy tken^ sayjf,] And why then, sayd he. An uncommon ellipsis. Todd. XV. 1. quoth he,] Sir Guynn. Church. XV. 6. empeach] Hinder. Upton. XV. 9. accloyes.] Chokes, or clogs up. Todd. XVI. 3. unreproved truth,'\ Spenser by unreproved truth means sincerity. The sense is, The antique world was sincerely thankful for the grace or favour of its Ore!itor. Church. " Sonne," said he then, " lett be thy bitter scorne, And leave the rudenesse of that Antique age To them, that liv'd therin in state forlorne. Thou, that doest live in later times, must wage Thy workes for wealth, and life for gold engage. If then thee list my oflred grace to use. Take what thou please of aU this surplusage ; If thee list not, leave have thou to refuse . But thing refused doe not afterward accuse." " Me list not," said the Elfin Knight, " receave Thing oSi-ed, till I know it well be gott ; Ne wote I but thou didst these goods bereave From rightfull owner by unrighteous lott, Or that blood-guiltinesse or guile them blott." " Perdy," quoth he, " yet never eie did vew, Ne tong did tell, ne hand these handled not ; But safe I have them kept in secret mew From bevens sight and powre of al which them poursew." XX. " What secret place," quoth he, " can safely hold So huge a masse, and hide from heavens eie ? Or where hast thou thy wonne,that so much gold Thou canst preserve from wrong and robbery ?" "Come thou," quoth he, "and see." So by and by Through that thick covert he him led, and fownd A darksome way, which no man could descry, That deep descended through the hollow grownd, And was with dread and horror compassed arownd. At length they came into a larger space. That stretcht itselfe into an ample playne ; Through which o, beaten broad Mgh way did trace. That streight did lead to Plutoes griesly rayne : By that wayes side there sate infernall Payne, And fast beside him sat tumultuous Strife ; The one in hand an yron whip did strayne. The other brandished a bloody knife ; And both did gnash their teeth, and both did threaten Life. xxir. On th' other side in one consort there sate Cruell Revenge, and rancorous Despight, Disloyall Treason, and hart-burning Hate ; But gnawing Gealosy, out of then- sight Sitting alone, his bitter lips did bight ; And tremblmg Feare still to and fro did fly, And foxmd no place wher safe he shroud Inm might : Lamenting Sorrow did in darknes lye ; And Shame his ugly face did hide from living eye xxm. And over them sad Horror with grim hew Did alwaies sore, beating his yron wings ; And after him owles and night-ravens flew, xviii. 1 lett be] Leave off, away with. Chobch. xvin. 4. must wage Thy workes &o.] Must wage, i. e. must pUifie. Church. XX. 3. thy wonne,] Habitation. The word is often thus used as a substantive in Spenser. Upton. XXI. 4 rayne ;] Reign in our old poetry is used for realm or region, Upton. CANTO Til.] THE FAERIE QUEENE. 95 The hatefull messengers of heavy thingSj Of death and dolor telUng sad tidings ; Whiles sad Celeno, sitting on a chfte, A song of bale and bitter sorrow sings. That hart of flint asonder could have rifte ; Which having ended after him she flyeth swifte. XXIV. All these before the gates of Pluto lay ; By whom they passing spalce unto them nought But til' Elfin Knight with wonder all the way Did feed his eyes, and fild his inner thought. At last him to a htle dore he brought. That to the gate of heU, which gaped wide, Was next adioyning, ne them parted ought : Betwixt them both was but a litle stride. That did the House of Richesse from hell-mouth divide. XXV. Before the dore sat selfe-consuming Care, Day and night keeping wary watch and ward. For feare least Force or Fraud should unaware Breake in, and spoile the treasure there in gard : Ne would he suffer Sleepe once thether-ward Approch, albe his drowsy den were next ; For next to Death is Sleepe to be compard ; Therefore his house is unto his annext ; Here Sleep, there Richesse, and hel-gate iliem both betwext. So !/)on as Mammon there arrivd, the dore To him did open and affoorded way : Him followed eke Sir Guyon evermore, Ne darknesse him ne daunger might dismay. Soone as he entred was, the dore streightway Did shutt, and from behind it forth there lept An ugly Feend, more fowle then dismall day ; The which mth monstrous stalke behind him stept. And ever as he went dew watch upon him kept. xxvrr. Well hoped hee, ere long that hardy Guest, If ever covetous hand, or lustfull eye. Or lips he layd on thing that likt him best, Or ever sleepe his eie-strings did untye, Should be his pray : And therefore still on hye He over him did hold his cruell clawes, Threatning with greedy gripe to doe him dye. And rend in peeces with his ravenous pawes. If ever he transgrest the fataU Stygian lawes. XXVIIT. That Houses forme within was rude and strong, Lyke an huge eave hewne out of rocky clifte. From whose rough vaut the ragged breaches hong Embost with massy gold of glorious guifte. And with rich metall loaded every rifte. That heavy ruine they did seeme to threatt ; And over them Arachne high did lifte Her cunning web, and spred her subtile nett, Enwrapped in fowle smoke and clouds more black than iett. xxrx. Both roofe, and floore, and walls, were all of gold. But overgi'owne with dust and old decay, And hid in darknes, that none could behold The hew thereof : for vew of cherefuU day Did never in that House itselfe display. But a faint shadow of uuoertein 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 att'right, XXX. In all that rowme was nothing to be seene But huge great ji*on chests, and coffers strong, AH bard %vith double bends, that none could weene Them to enforce by violence or wrong ; On every side they placed were along. But all the grownd \vith sculs was scattered And dead mens bones, which round about were flong ; Whose lives, it seemed, whilome there were shed, And their vile carcases now left unburied. They forward passe ; ne Guyon yet spoke word. Till that they came unto an yron dore. Which to them opened of his owne accord, And shewd of richesse such exceeding store As eie of man did never see before, Ne ever could within one place be fo^vnd, Though all the wealth, which is or was of yore. Could gathei'd be through all the world arownd. And that above were added to that under gro^vnd. xxxrr. The charge thereof unto a covetous Spright Commaunded was, who thereby did attend. And warily awaited day and night. From other covetous Feends it to defend. Who it to rob and ransacke did intend. Then Mammon, turning to that Warriour, said ; " Loe, here the worldes bhs ! loe, here the end. To which al men do ayme, rich to be made ! Such grace now to be happy is before thee laid." xxxni. " Certes," sayd he, " I n'ill thine ofTred grace, Ne to be made so happy doe intend ! Another bhs before mine eyes I place, Another happines, another end. To them, that hst, these base regardes I lend : But I in armes, and in atchievements brave. Do rather choose my flitting houres to spend. And to be lord of those that riches have. Then them to have my selfe, and be their servile sclave." XXXIV. Thereat the Feend his gnashing teeth did grate. And griev'd, so long to laeke his greedie pray ; For well he weened that so glorious bayte Would tempt his Guest to take thereof assay : Had he so doen, he had him snatcht away More Hght than culver in the faulcons fist : Etemall God thee save from such decay ! But, whenas Mammon saw his purpose mist, Him to entrap unwares another way he wist. Thence, forward he him ledd and shortly brought Unto another rowme, whose dore forthright To him did open as it had beene taught : Therein an hundred raunges weren pight. And hundred fournaces all bm-ning bright ; By every foumace many Feends did byde. Deformed creatures, horrible in sight ; And every Feend his busie paines applyde To melt the golden metall, ready to be ti-yde. 9S THE FAERIE QUEENE. [book II. XXXVI. One with great bellowes gathered filling ayre, And with forst wind the fewell did inflame ; Another did the dying bronds repayre With yron tongs, and sprinckled qfte the same With liquid waves, fiers Vuloans rage to tame, Who, maj string them, renewd his former heat : Some seurad the drosse that from the metall came ; Some stird the molten owi*e with ladles great : And every one did swincke, and everyone did sweat. But, when an earthly wight they present saw Glistring in armes and battailous aray. From their whot work they did themselves with- To wonder at the sight ; for, till that day, [draw They never creature saw that cam that way : Their staring eyes sparckling with fervent fyre And ugly shapes did nigh the Man dismay. That, were it not for shame, he would retyre ; Till that him thus bespake their soveraine lord and syre; XXXVtll. " Behold, thou Faeries sonne, with mortall eye. That living eye before did never see ! The thing, that thou didst crave so earnestly. To weet whence all the wealth late shewd by mee Proceeded, lo ! now is reveald to thee. Here is the fountaine of the worldes good ! Now therefore, if thou wilt enriched bee, Avise thee well, and chaunge thy wilfull mood ; Least thou perhaps hereafter widi, and be with- stood." XXXIX. " Suffiae it then, thou Money-god," quoth hee, " That all thine ydle o£fers I refuse. All that I need I have ; what needeth mee To covet more then I have cause to use ? [abuse ; With such vaine shewes thy worldlinges vyle But give me leave to follow mine emprise." Mammon was much displeasd, yet no'te he chuse But beare the rigour of his bold mesprise ; And thence him forward ledd, him further to entise. XL. He brought him, through a darksom narrow te&yt. To a broad gate all built of beaten gold : The gate was open ; but therein did wayt A sturdie Villein, stryding stiffe and bol4. As if the Highest God defy 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. Disdayne he called was, and did disdayne To be so cald, and who so did him call : Sterne was his looke, and full of stomacke vayne ; His portaunce terrible, and stature tall, Far passing th' bight of men terrestriall ; xxxvir. 5. . creature'] He means earthly creature. Church. xxxrx. 8. mesprise,] Contempt, or neglect. Fr. Todd. XL. 1. a darksome narrow strayt,] Thfl.t is, street, *' Strata viarum." The letters answer to the rhyme. UWON Like an huge gyant of the Titans race ; [small. That made him scorne all creatures great and And with his pride all others powre deface : More fitt emongst black fiendes then men to have his place. XLlr, Soone as those glitterand armes he did espye, That with their brightnesse made that darknes His harmefull club he gan to hurtle hye, [Ught, And threaten batteiU 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. So having him with reason pacifyde. And that fiers Carle commauuding to forbeare. He brought him in. The rowme was large and wyde. As it some gyeld or solemne temple weare ; Many great golden pillours did upbeare The massy roofe, and riches huge sustayne ; And every pillour decked was full deare With crownes, and diademes, and titles vaine, Which mortall princes wore whiles they on earth did rayne. XLIV. A route of people there assembled were, Of every sort and nation under skye, Which with great uprore preaced to draw nere To th' upper part, where was advaunced hye A stately siege of soveraine maiestye ; And thereon satt a Woman gorgeous gay. And richly cladd in robes of royaltye. That never earthly prince in such aray His glory did euhaunce, and pompous pryde display. Her face right wondrous faire did seeme to bee. That her broad beauties beam great brightnes threw Through the dim shade, that all men might it see ; Yet was not that same her owne native hew. But wrought by art and counterfetted shew. Thereby more lovers unto her to call ; Nath'lesse most hevenly faire in deed and vew She by creation was, till she did fall ; . [withall. Thenceforth she sought for helps to cloke her crime XLVL There, as in glistring glory she did sitt. She held a great gold chaine ylincked well. Whose upper end to highest heven was knitt, And lower part did reach to lowest hell ; And all that preace did rownd about her swell To catchen hold of that long chaine, thereby To climbe aloft, and others to excell : That was Ambition, rash desire to sty. And every linck thereof a step of digmty. XLin. 4. gyeld] Hall, a guild-hall. Anglo-Sax. vild. Germ. {/tide. Upton. XLIV. 5. siege] Seat. Church. xLv. 9. crime] Reproach. Church. XLVL 8. ■ rash desire to sty,] The lexicographera inform us, that sty signifies to soar, to ascend ; so that the sense, in the verse before us is. That was ambition, which Is a rash desire of still ascending upward. T. Warton. CAJIXO VII.] THE FAERIE QUEENE. S7 Some thought to raise themselves to high degree By riches and mrrigliteous reward ; Some by close shouldring ; some by flatteree ; Others through friendes ; others for base regai-d ; And all, by wrong waies, for themselves prepard : Those, tliat were up themselves, kept others low ; Tliose, that were low themselves, held others Ne suffred them to ryse or greater grow ; [hard, But every one did strive his fellow downe to tlirow. xLViir. Which whenas Guyon saw, he gan inquire, What meant that preace about that Ladies tlirone. And what she was that did so high aspyre ? Him Mammon answered ; " That goodly one, Whom all that folke with such contention Doe flock about, my deare, my daughter is : Honour and dignitie from her alone Derived are, and all this worldes bhs, [mis : For which ye men doe strive ; few gett, but many " And fayre Philotim^ she rightly hight, The fairest wight that wonneth under skie. But that this darksom neather world her light Doth dim with horror and deformity, Worthie of heven and bye feheitie. From whence the gods have her for envy thrust : But, sith thou hast found favour in mine eye, Thy spouse I will her make, if that thou lust ; That she may thee advance for works and merits iust." h. " Gramerey, Mammon," said the gentle Knight, " For so great grace and offred high estate ; But I, that am fraile flesh and earthly wight. Unworthy match for such immortall mate Myselfe well wote, and mine unec[uaU fate : And were I not, yet is my trouth yplight. And love avowd to other Lady late. That to remove the same I have no might : To chaunge love causelesse is reproch to warlike Kuight." Lr. Mammon emmoved was with inward wrath ; Yet, forcing it to fayne, him forth thence ledd, , Through griesly sbadowes by a beaten path. Into a Gar din goodly garnished _ With hearbs and fruits, whose kinds mote not be redd : Not such as earth out of her fruitful! woomb Throwes forth to men, sweet and well-savored. But direfuU deadly black, both leafe and bloom, Fitt to adome tlie dead and deck the drery toombe. There mournfuU cypresse grew in greatest store ; And trees of bitter gall ; and heben sad ; Dead sleeping poppy ; and black hellebore ; Cold coloquintida ; and tetra mad ; Mortall samnitis ; and cicuta bad. With which th' uniust Atheniens made to dy AVise Socrates, who, thereof quaffing glad, Pourd out his life and last philosophy To the fayre Critias, his dearest belamy ! L. I. Gramerey,] Great tliankt. Fr. Grand merct. Todd. ,11.9. belj.iay.'} Fair friend. Fr.tel ami. CiiuiicH. The Gardin of Proserpina this hight : And in the midst thereof a silver seat. With a tliick arber goodly over-dight. In which she often usd from open heat HerseUe to shroud, and pleasures to entreat : Next thereunto did grow a goodly tree, With braunches broad dispredd and body great. Clothed with leaves, tliat none the wood mote sec, And loadeu all with fruit as thick as it might bee. Their fruit were golden apples glistring bright, That goodly was their glory to behold ; On earth like never grew, ne living wight Like ever 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 fniit of gold ; And those, with which th' Euboean young man wan Swift Atalanta, when through craft he her out ran. Here also sprong that goodly golden fmit. With which Acontius got his lover trew. Whom he had long time sought with fruitlesse Here eke that famous golden apple grew, [suit : The which emongst the gods false' Ate tlu-ew ; For which th' Idsean Ladies disagreed. Till pai-tiall Paris dempt it Venus dew. And had of her fayre Helen for his meed. That many noble Greekes and Troiansmade to bleed The warlike Elfe much wondred at this tree. So fayre and great, that shadowed all the ground ,' And his broad braunches, laden with rich fee. Did stretch themselves without the utmost bound Of this great Gardin, compast with a mound : Which over-lianging, they themselves did steepe In a blacke flood, which flow'd about it round ; That is the river of Cocytus deepe, [weepe. In which full many soules do endlesse wayle and Which to behold he clomb up to the bancke ; And, looking downe, saw many damned wightes In those sad waves, which direfull deadly stancke, Plonged continually of cruell sprightes. That with their piteous cry es, and yelling shrightes. They made the further shore resounden wide : Emongst the rest of those same ruefull sightes. One cursed creature he by chaunce espide. That drenched lay full deepe under the Garden side. Deepe was he drenched to the upmost chin. Yet gaped still as coveting to drinke Of the cold liqueur which he waded in ; And, stretching forth his hand, did often thinke To reach the fruit which grew upon the brincke ; But both the fruit from hand, and flood from mouth. Did fly abacke, and made him vainely swincke ; The whiles he sterv'd with hunger, and with droutli He daily dyde, yet never througly dyen couth. iv. 7 dcmpt] Judged, or deemed. Anglo-Sm deman. Todd, LTii. 5 shrightes,] Shrieks. Todd. If 98 THE FAERIE QUEENE. [book II. The Knight, him seeing labom- so in vaine, Askt who he was, and what he meant thereby 1 AiVlio, groniug deepe, tlms answerd liim againe ; " Most cursed of all creatures under skye, Lo Tantalus, I here tormented lye ! Of whom high love wont whylome feasted bee ; Lo, here I now for want of food doe dye ! But, if that thou be such as I thee see, [mee ! " Of grace I pray thee give to eat and drinke to " Nay, nay, thou greedy Tantalus," quoth he, " Abide the fortune of thy present fate ; And, unto all that Kve in high degree, Ensample be of mind intemperate. To teach them how to use their present state." Then gan the cursed Wretch alowd to cry. Accusing highest love and gods ingrate ; And eke blaspheming heaven bitterly. As author of iniustice, there to let him dye. He lookt a litle furtlier, and espyde Another Wretch, whose carcas deepe was drent Within the river which the same did hyde : But both his handes, most filthy feculent. Above the yater were on high extent. And faynd to wash themselves incessantly. Yet nothing cleaner were for such intent. But rather fowler seemed to the eye ; So lost his labour vaine and ydle industry. The Knight, him calling, asked who he was ? Who, hfting up his head, him answerd thus ; " I Pilate am, the falsest iudge, alas ! And most vmiust ; that, by unrighteous And wicked doome, to lewes despiteous Delivered up the Lord of Life to dye. And did acquite a murdrer felonous ; The whiles my handes I washt in purity, The whiles my soule was soyld with fowle iniquity." LXIII. Infinite moe tormented in like paine He there beheld, too long here to be told : Ne Mammon would there let him long remayne. For terrovu" of the tortures manifold. In which the damned soules he did behold. But roughly him bespake : " Thou fearefuU foole, Why takest not of that same fruite of gold 1 Ne sittest downe on that same silver stoole, To rest thy weary person in the shadow coole ?" All which he did to do him deadly fall In frayle intemperaunce through sinful! bayt ; To which if he inclyned had at all, [wayt, That dreadfuU Feend, which did behinde him Would him have rent in thousand peeces strayt : But he was wary wise in all his way. And well perceived his deceiptfuU sleight, Ne suffred lust his safety to betray : So goodly did beguile the guyler of his pray. Lx. 9. there to let liim dye.] That is, to lie in eternal punishment; which U called death in the Scripture Ian. guage. Upton. vx.ll. 8. in purity,1 In sign of purity. Todd. And now he has so long remained tlieare, That vitall po^vres gan wexe both weake and wan For want of food and sleepe, which two upbeare. Like mightie pillours, this frayle life of man. That none without the same enduren can : For now tliree dayes of men were full outwrought. Since he this hardy enterprize began : Forthy great Mammon fayrely he besought Into the world to guyde him backe, as he him brought. Lxvr. The god, though loth, yet was constraynd t' obay ; For lenger time, then that, no living ^vight Below the earth might suffred be to stay : So backe againe him brought to living light. But all so soone as his enfeebled spright Gan sucke this vitall ayi'e into his brest, As overcome with, too exceeding might. The Ufe did flit away out of her nest. And all his sences were with deadly fit opprest. CANTO VIII. Sir Guyon, layd in awowne, JB by Aerates Bonnes despoylil; Wlioin Artbnre Boone hath reskewed. And Paynim brethren foyld. And is there care in. heaven ? And is there love In heavenly spirits to these creatures bace, That may compassion of their evils move ? [cace There is : — else much more wretched were tliu Of men then beasts : But ! th' exceeding grace Of Highest God that loves his creatures so, And all his workes with mercy doth embrace. That blessed Angels he sends to and fro. To serve to wicked man, to serve his wicked foe ! How oft do they their silver bowers leave To come to succour us that succour want ! How oft do they with golden pineons cleave The flitting skyes, like flying pm-suivant, Against fowle feendes to ayd us militant ! t They for us fight, they watch and dewly ward. And their bright squadrons round about us plant ; And all for love and nothing for reward : 0, why should Hevenly God to men have such regard ! nr. During the while that Guyon did abide In Mammons House, the Palmer, whom whyleare That wanton Mayd of passage had denide, By fm-ther search had passage found elsewhere ; And, being on his way, approached nearc Where Guyon lay in traunce ; when suddelnly He heard a voyce that called lowd and cleare, " Come hether, come hether, ! come hastily !" That all the fields resounded mth the ruefull cry. The Palmer lent his eare unto the noyce, ' To weet who called so imp6rtunely : Againe he heard a more efforced voyce, Tff. 3. That wanton Mayd") Phsdria. Church. CANTO Till.] THE FAERIE (JUEENE. SO That bad him come in haste : He by and by His feeble feet directed to the cry ; Which to tliat shady delve him brought at last, Where Mammon earst did smme his tlireasm'y : There the good Guyon he fomid slumbring fast In senceles dreame ; which sight at first him sore aghast. T. Beside his head there satt a fairs yomig man. Of wondrous beauty and of freshest yeares. Whose tender bud to blossome new began. And ilorish faire above his equall peares : His snowy front, curled with golden heares. Like Phoebus face adornd with sunny rayes, Divinely shone ; and two sharps winged sheares. Decked with diverse plumes, like painted jayes. Were fixed at his backe to cut his ayery wayes. TI. Like as Cupido on Idsean hill. When having laid his crueU bow away And mortall arrowes, wherewith he doth fill The world with murdrous spoiles and bloody pray. With his faire mother he him dights to play. And with his goodly sisters, Graces three ; The goddesse, pleased with his wanton play. Suffers herselfe through sleepe beguUd to bee. The whiles the other ladies mind theyr mery glee. Wliom when the Palmer saw, abasht he was [say. Through fear and wonder, that he nought could Till him the Childe bespoke ; " Long lackt, alas. Hath bene thy faithfull aide in hard assay ! Wliiles deadly fitt thy Pupill doth dismay. Behold this heavy sight, thou reverend Sirs ! But dread of death and dolor doe away ; For life ere long shall to her home retire. And he, that breathlesse seems, shal corage bold respire. " The charge, which God doth unto me arrstt. Of his deare safety, I to thee commend ; Yet will I not forgoe, ne yet forgett The care thereof myselfe unto the end. But evermore him succour, and defend Against his foe and mine : Watch thou, I pray ; For evill is at hand him to ofieud." So ha.viug said, eftsoones he gan display His painted nimble wings, and vanisht quite away. The Palmer seeing his lefte empty place, And his slow eies beguiled of their sight, Woxe sore afraid, 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. vnr. 1. arrctt] Appoint, allot. Fr. arrester, arrHer. TTpton. IX. 1. The Palmer seeing his lefte empty place. And his slow eies heguiled &c.] That is, tbo Palmer seeing his place empty, and his eye being beguiled of their sight, woxe sore afraid. Upton. IX. 5. to his charge behight,] To the charge entrusted to him. Todd. He much reioyst, and courd it tenderly. As chicken newly hatcht, from dreaded destiny. X. At last he spide where towards hun did pace Two Paynim Knights al armd as bright as skie, And them beside an aged Sire did trace. And far before a light-foote Page did flie That breathed strife and troublous enmitie. Those were the two sonnes of Aerates old. Who, meeting earst with Archimago slie Foreby that Idle Strond, of him were told That he, which earst them combatted, was Guvon bold. ' xr. Which to avenge on him they dearly vowd, Whereever that on ground they mote him find : False Archimage provokt their corage prowd. And stryful Atin in their stubborne mind Coles of contention and whot vengeaunce tind. Now bene they come whereas the Palmer sate, Keepmg that slombred corse to him assind : Well knew they both his person, sith of late With him in bloody armes they rashly did debate. Whom when Pyroehles saw, inflam'd with rage That Sire he fowl bespake ; " Thou dotard vile. That with thy brutenesse shendst thy comely age, Abandon soone, I read, the caytive spoile Of that same outcast carcas, that erewhile Made itselfe famous through false trechery. And crownd his coward crest with knightly stile ; Loe ! where he now inglorious doth lye. To proove he hvsd U, that did thus fowly dys." To whom ths Palmer fearelesss answered ; " Certes, Sir Knight, ye bene too much to blame, Thus for to blott the honor of the dead. And with fowls cowardize his carcas shame Whose living handes immortahzd his name. Vile is the vengeaunce on the ashes cold ; And envy base to barks at sleeping fame : Was never wight that treason of him told : Yourselfe Ins prowesse prov'd, and found him fiers and bold." Then sayd Cymochles ; " Palmer, thou doest dote, Ne canst of prowesse ns of knighthood deeme. Save as thou seest or hearst : But well I wote. That of his puissaunce tryall made extreeme : Yet gold all is not that doth golden sssme ; No al good Knights that shake well speare and shield : The worth of all men by their end esteems ; And then dew praise or dew reproch them yield ; Bad therefore I him deeme that thus lies dead on field." IX. 8. and courd it tenderly. As chicken newly hatcht,^ And protected it, as a hen sits couring over her young chicken. Uptow. XI. 5. tind.]- Kindled, excited. Todd. XII. 3. brutenesse] Sottishness, stupidity of a brute, brutishness. Upton. xiii. 7. And envy base to barke at sleeping fame .-] "At sleeping fame," i. e. at the fame o/ a person now dead; of one now/alien asleep, KixcifMjfAsvev, mortui. Upton. • B 2 JUU THE FAERIE QUEENE. [BOUK II " Good or bad," gan his brother fiers reply, " What do I recke, sith that he dide entire ? Or what doth his bad death now satssfy The greedy hunger of revenging yre, Sith wrathfull hand wrought not her owne desire ! Yet, since no way is lefte to wreake my spiglit, I will him reave of armes, the victors hire. And of that shield, more worthy of good Knight ; For why should a dead dog be deekt in armour bright?" xvr. " Fayr Sir," said then the Palmer suppliaunt, " For ksiighthoods love doe not so fowle a deed, Ne blame your honor with so shamefull vaunt Of vile revenge : To spoile the dead of weed Is sacrilege, and doth all sinnes exceed : But leave these relioks of his living might To , decke his herce, and trap his tomb-blacke steed." [dight, " What herce or steed," said he, " should he have But be entombed in the raven or the kight?" With that, rude hand upon his shield he laid. And th' other brother gan his helme unlace ; Both fiercely bent to have him disaraid : Till that they spyde where towards them did pace An armed Knight, of bold and bounteous grace. Whose Squire bore after him an heben launce And coverd shield : Well kend him so far space Th' Enchaunter by his armes and amenaunce. When under himhesaw his Lybian steed to praunce ; And to those brethren sayd ; " Rise, rise bylive. And imto batteil doe yourselves addresse ; For yonder comes the prowest Knight alive, Prince Arthur, flowre of grace and nobilesse. That hath to Paynim Knights wrought gret dis- tresse. And thousand Sar'zins fowly donne to dye." That word so deepe did in their harts impresse, That both eftsoones upstarted furiously. And gan themselves prepare to batteill greedily. ■ But fiers Pyrochles, lackiag his owne sword, The want thereof now greatly gan to plaine. And Archimage besought, him that aflFord Which he had brought for Braggadochio vaine. " So would I," said th' Enchaunter, " glad and Beteeme to you this sword, you to defend, [faine Or ought that els your honour might maintadne ; XV. 2. - sU?i that he dide entire?] That is, seeing that he died a natural death. This sense is suitable to the mind of the speaker. t'HuRCH. XVI. 3. Ne blame your ftonor.] Cast not Name or re- proach on your honour. Fr. btdmer. Ital. biasimare, k Lat. hlasphemare, ^Kttiri^viiJ.Cv, TIpton. XVI. 4. . Q/'weed] Oi raiment. Todd. XVII. 8. amenaunce,] Carriage, behaviour. Fr. amener, Ital. ammannare. Upton. XVII. 9. ' his Lybian steed'} His Arabian horse. Church. xviil. 3. the prowest Knighf} The bravest ICnight Todd. XIX. 6. Beteeme to yoW] That is, give, deliver, to you. Upton. But that this weapons powre I well have kend To be contrary to the worke which ye intend : " For that same Knights owne sword this is, of yore Which Merlin made by his almightie art For thathisNoursling,whenhe knighthood swore. Therewith to doen his foes eternaU smai-t. The metall first he mixt with medsewart, That no enchauntment from his dint might save ; Then it in flames of Aetna wrought apart. And seven times dipped in the bitter wave Of hellish Styx, which hidden vertue to it gave. XXI. " The vertue is, that nether Steele nor stone The stroke thereof from entraunce may defend ; Ne ever may be used by Ins fone ; Ne forst his rightful owner to oifend ; Ne ever will it breake, ne ever bend ; Wherefore Morddv/re it rightfully is hight. In vaane therefore, Pyrochles, should I lend The same to thee, against his Lord to fight ; For sure yt would deceive thy labor and thy might." " Foolish old man," said then the Pagan wroth, " That weenest words or charms may force with- stond : Soone shalt thou see, and then beleeve for troth. That I can carve with this inchaunted brond His Lords owne flesh." Therewith out of his bond That vertuouB Steele he rudely snatcht away ; And Guyons shield about his wrest he bond : So ready dight, fierce battaile to assay. And match his brother proud in battailous aray. By this, that straunger Knight in presence came, And goodly salved them ; who nought againe Him answered, as courtesie became ; But with steme lookes, and stomachous disdaiue. Gave signes of grudge and discontentment vaine : Then, turning to the Palmer, he gan spy Where at his feet, mth sorrowfull demayne And deadly hew, an armed corse did lye. In whose dead face he redd great magnanimity. Sayd he then to the Palmer ; " Reverend 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 ? However, sure I rew his pitteous plight." " Not one, nor other," sayd the Palmer gi'ave, " Hath him befalne ; but cloudes of deadly nighl Awhile his heavy eyelids cover'd have. And all his sences drownedin deepe sencelesse wave : " Which those his cruell foes, that stand hereby, Making advantage, to revenge their spight, Would him disarme and treaten shameftilly ; Unworthie usage of redoubted Knight ! But you, faire Sir, whose honourable sight XXXIII. 2. And goodly salved] Saluted them. Uprow. xxxni. 7. -^-^ demayne] Demeanour or appearance, Todd. CANTO Vlll.] THE FAERIE QUEENE. 101 Doth promise hope of helpe and timely gi'aee, Mote I beseech to suncour his sad plight, And by your powre protect his feeble cace i First prayse of knighthood is, fowle outrage to deface." XXVI. " Palmer," said he, " no Knight so rude, I weene. As to doen outrage to a sleeping ghost : Ne was there ever noble corage seene. That in advauntage would his puissaunce host : Honour is least, where oddes appeareth most. May bee, that better reason will aswage The rash revengers heat. Words, well dispost. Have secrete po^vre t' appease inflamed rage : If not, leave unto me thy Knights last patronage." Tlio, turning to those brethren, thus bespoke ; " Ye warlike payre, whose valorous great might, Itseemes,iustwronges to vengeauncedoe provoke. To wreake your wraih on this dead-seemmg 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 liis carkas pardon I enti-eat. Whom fortune hath already laid in lowest seat." To whom Cj-mochles said ; " For what art thou. That mak'st thyselfe his dayes-man, to prolong The vengeaunce prest ? Or who shall let me now On this vile body from to wreak my wrong, And make his carkas as the outcast dong ? Why should not that dead carrion satisfye The guilt, wliich, if he lived had thus long. His life for dew revenge should deare abye ? The trespass still doth live, albee the person dye." XXIX. « Indeed," then said the Prince, "the evill donne Dyes not, when breath the body first doth leave ; But from the grandsyre to the nephewes sonne And all his seede the curse doth often cleave. Till vengeaunce utterly the guilt bereave : So streightly God doth iudge. But gentle Knight, That doth against the dead his hand upreare. His honour staines with rancour and despight. And great disparagment makes to his former might." XXX. Pyrochles gan reply the second tyme. And to him said ; " Now, felon, sure I read. How that thou art partaker of his cryme : Therefore by Termagaunt liiou shalt be dead." With that, his hand, more sad than lomp of lead. Uplifting high, he weened with Morddure, His owne good sword Morddure, to cleave his head. The faithful! Steele such treason no'uld endure. But, swarving from the marke, his Lordes life did assure. xxviir. 2. Ms dayes-man,] Arbitrator, or Judge. Todd. xxvlti. 3. . prest ?] Read;/ at hand, or quick. Todd. XXVIII. 4 irom to -wreak m;/ wrong,'] A Grecism, iri n: T So, wheniie had resignd his regiment, His daughter gan despise his drouping day. And wearie wax of his continuall stay : Tho to his daughter Regan he repayrd, Who liim at first well used every way ; But, When of his depai'ture she despayrd. Her bountie she abated, and his cheare empayrd. XXXI. The wretched man gan then aviso too late. That love is not where most it is profest ; Too truely tryde in his extremest state ! At last, resolv*d likewise to prove the rest. He to Cordelia himselfe addrest, Who with entyre affection him receav'd, As for her syre and king her seemed best ; And after all an army strong she leav'd, [reav'd. To war on those which him had of his Kealme be- So to his crowne she him restord againe ; In which he dyde, made ripe for death by eld. And after wild it should to her remaine : Who peaceably the same long time did weld, And all mens harts in dew obedience held ; Till that her sisters children, woxen strong, Through proud ambition against her rebeld. And overcommen kept in prison long. Till weary of that wretched fife herselfe she hong. xxxin. Then gan the bloody brethren both to raine : But fierce Cundah gan shortly to envy His brother Morgan, prickt with proud disdaine To have a pere in part of soverainty ; And, kuidling coles of cruell enmity, Raisd warre, and him in batteill overtlirew : Whence as he to those woody hilles did fly. Which hight of him Glamorgan, there him slew : Then did he raigne alone, when he none e(jual knew. His Sonne Rivall' his dead rowme did supply ; In whose sad time blood did from heaven rayne. Next great Gurgustus, then faire Ccecily, In constant peace their kingdomes did contayne. After whom Lago, and Kinmarke did rayne. Arid Gorbogud, till far in years he grow : Tlien his ambitious sonnes unto them twayne Arraught the rule, and frpm then* father drew ; Stout Ferrex and steme Porrex him in prison threw. XXXV. But ! the greedy thirst of royall crowne. That knowes no kinred, nor regardes no right, Stird Porre.K up to put his brother downe ; Who, unto him assembling forreigne might, Made warre on him, and fell himselfe in fight : Whose death t'avenge, his mother mercilesse. Most mercilesse of women, Wyden hight. Her other sonne fast sleeping did oppresse, And with most cruell hand him murdred pittilesse. XXXVI. Here ended Brutus sacred progeny. Which had seven hundred years this scepter With liigh renowme and great felicity : [borne XXXI. Q leav*d,] Levied, raised. Gall, lever. ITi'TON. xxxlT. 8- Ajraughtl Seised. Fr. arraclier, to snatch pr ivrcst. Todd. The noble braunch from th' antique stoeke was torne Through discord, and the roiall throne forlorne. Thenceforth this Realme was into factions rent, Whilest each of Brutus boasted to be borne, That in the end was left no moniment Of Brutus, nor of Britons glorie auncient. XXXVTl. Then up arose a man of matchlesse might, And wondrous wit to menage high affayres, Who, stird -with pitty of the stressed pUght Of this sad Realme, cut into sondry shayres By such as claymd themselves Brutes rightfuU Gathered the princes of the people loose [hayres. 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. xxxviir. Then made he head agamst his enimles. And Ymner slew of Logris miscreate ; Then Buddoc and proud Stater, both allyes. This of Albany newly nominate. And that of Cambry king confirmed late, He overthrew through his owne valiaunce ; Whose countries he redus'd to quiet state. And shortly brought to civile governaunce, l\ov/ one, which earst were many made through variaunce. XXXIX. Then rnade he sacred lawes, which some men say Were unto him reveald in vision ; By which he freed the traveilere high-way. The churches part, and ploughmans portion. Restraining stealth and strong extortion ; The gratious Numa of great Britany : For, till his dayes, the chiefe dominion By strength was wielded without poUicy : Therefore he first wore crowne of gold for dignity Donwallo dyde, (for what may live for ay ?) And left two sonnes, of pearelesse prowesse both That sacked Rome too dearely did assay, The recompence of their periiired oth ; [ wtcUi ; And ransackt Greece wel tryde, when tliey were Besides subiected France and Germany, Which yet their praises speake, all be they loth. And inly tremble at the memory Of Brennus and Belinus, kinges of Britany. Next them did Gurgunt, great Belinus sonne. In rule succeede, and eke in fathers praise : He Easterland subdewd, and Denmarke wonne, And of them both did foy and tribute raise. The which was dew in his dead fathers dales : He also gave to fugitives of Spayne, Whom he at sea found wandring from their waies, A seate in Ireland safely to remayne, [tayne. Which they should hold of him as subiect to Bri- After him raigned Guithelme his hayre. The iustest man and trewest in his daies, xLi. 4. foy] The tribute due from suhjecti. ^n Dxpression borrowed from the old French. Homme de/i'jt is a vassal, or tenant, that holds by fealty. Todd. CANTO X.] THE FAERIE QUEENE. 113 Who had to wife Dame Mertia the fayre, A woman worthy of immortall praise. Which for this Realme found many goodly layes, And wholesome statutes to her husband brought : Her many deemd to have beene of the Fayes, As was Aegerie that Numa tought : [thought. Tliose yet of her be Mertian lawes both nam'd and XLIII. Her Sonne SifiUus after her did rayne : And then Kimanis ; and then Danius : Next whom Morindus did the crowne sustayne ; Who, had he not with wrath outi'ageous And eruell rancour dim'd his valorous And mightie deedes, should matched have the As well in that same field victorious [best : Against the forreine Morands he expi-est ; Yet lives his memorie, though carcas sleepe in rest. Five sonnes he left begotten of one wife, All which successively by turnes did rayne : First Gorboman, a man of vei'tuous hfe ; Next Archigald, who for his proud disdayne Deposed was fi'om princedome soverayne. And pitteous Elidure put in his sted ; Who shortly it to him restord agayne, Till by his death he it recovered ; But Peridm-e and Vigent liim distlironized : In wretched prison long he did remaine, TiU they out-raigned had their utmost 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 five bretliren raynd By dew successe, and all their nephewes late ; Even thrise eleven descents the crowne retaynd. Till aged Hely by dew heritage it gaynd. He had two sonnes, whose eldest, called Lud, Left of his hfe most famous memory. And endlesse moniments of his great good : The ruin'd wals he did resedifye Of Troynovant, 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 yoimg to rule aright. Androgens and Tenantius, pictures of his might. xLvn. Whilst they were young, Cassibalane their eme Was by the people chosen in their sted, Who on him tooke the roiall diademe. And goodly well long time it governed ; Till the prowde Romanes him disquieted. And warUke Csesar, tempted with the name Of this sweet Island never conquered. And envyuig the Britons blazed fame, (0 hideous himger of dominion !) hether came. XLn. 5. layea,] I,aws, for the rhyme's sake. Church. xiv. 3 reseizea] Had seisin or possession again ; reinstated in his kingdom. Upton. XLV. 7. Bp dew successo,'i That is, by due succession ; in tkeir dew descents-, as he expresses it, st. 74. Church. Ibid. nephewes] Nephews are nepotes, grandsons. Jortnw. xivil. 1. their eme] Theix uncle. Chuoch. XLvirr. Yet twise they were repulsed backe againe. And twise renforst backe to their ships to fly ; The whiles with blood they all the shore did And the gray ocean into purple dy : [staine, Ne had they footing found at last perdie, Had not Androgens, false to native soyle. And envious of his uncles soveraintie, Betrayd his comitry unto forreine spoyle. [foyle ! Nought els but treason from the first this laud did So by him Csesar got the victory. Through great bloodshed and many a sad assay In which himselfe was charged heavily Of hardy Nennhis, whom he yet did slay. But lost his swoi'd, yet to be seene this day. Thenceforth this Land was tributarie made T'ambitious Rome, and did their rule obay, Till Arthur all that reckoning defrayd : [swayd. Yet oft the Briton Kings against them strongly L. Next him Tenantius raignd ; then Kimbeline, What time th' Eternall Lord in fleshly sUme Enwombed was, from wretched Adams line To purge away the guilt of sinful crime, ioyous memoi-ie of happy time. That heavenly grace so plenteously displayd ! too high ditty for my simple rime ! — Soone after this the Romanes him warrayd ; For that their tribute he refusd to let be payd. Ll. Good Claudius, that next was Emperom", An army brought, and with him batteile fought. In which the King was by a treachetour Disguised slaine, ere any thereof thought : Yet ceased not the bloody fight for ought : For Arvirage his brothers place supplyde Both in his armes and crowne, and by that draught Did drive the Romanes to the weaker syde, That they to peace agreed. So all was pacifyde. Was never King more highly magnifide, Nor dredd of Romanes, then was Arvirage ; For which the Emperour to him allide His daughter Genuiss' in maiTiage : Yet shortly he renomist the vassallage Of Rome againe, who hether hastly sent Vespasian, that with great spoile and rage Forwasted all, till Genuissa gent Persuaded him to ceasse, and her lord to relent. He dide ; and him succeded Marius, Who ioyd his dayes in great tranquillity. Then Coyll ; and after him good Lucius, That first received Christianity, The sacred pledge of Christes Evangely. Yet true it is, that long before that day XLvnr. 2. renforsf] So all the editions. I think it should he en/orst, i. e. forced, obliged. Church. XLvin. 9- ■ — foyle .'] Foil here signifies to defeat or conquer, as it also signifies, in F, Q. v. xi. 33, and in other places. Todd. 11.7. tt/ that draught] That is, by that resem- blance, by the stratagem of putting on his Brother's armour. Church. 114 THE FAERIE QUEENE. [book n. Hither came loseph of Arimathy, [say,) Who brought with him the Holy Grayle, (they Ani preaeht the truth ; but since it greatly did This good King shortly without issew dide, Whereof great trouble in the Kingdome grew. That did herselfe in sondry parts divide, And with her powre her owne selfe orerthrew, Whilest Romanes daily did the weake subdew : Which seeing, stout Bunduca up arose, And taking armes the Britons to her drew ; With whom she marched straight against her foes. And them unwares besides the Seveme did enclose, LV. There she with them a cruell batteill tryde. Not with so good suocesse as shee deserv'd ; By reason tlrat the oaptaines on her syde. Corrupted by Paulinus, from her swerv'd : Yet such, as were through former flight preserv'd. Gathering againe, her host she did renew. And with fresh corage on the victor servd : But being all defeated, save a few. Rather than fly, or be captiv'd, herselfe she slew. Lvr. famous moniment of womens prayse ! Matchable either to Semu'amis, Whom Antique history so high doth rayse. Or to Hypsiphil', or to Thomiris : Her host two hundred thousand numbred is ; Who, whiles good fortune favoured her might. Triumphed oft against her enemis ; And yet, though overcome in haplesse fight, Shee triumphed on death, in enemies despight. Lvir. Her reliques Fulgent having gathered. Fought with Severus, and him overthrew ; Yet in the chace was slaine of them that fled ; So made them victors whome he did subdew. Then gan Carausius tirannize anew. And gainst the Romanes bent their proper powre ; But him AUectus treacherously slew. And tooke on liim the robe of Emperoure : Nath'lesse the same enioyed but short happy howre •- LVin. For Asclepiodate him overcame. And left inglorious on the vanquisht playne. Without or robe or rag to hide his shame : Then afterwards he in his stead did raigne ; But shortly was by Coyll in batteill slaine : Who after long debate, since Lucies tyme. Was of the Britons first crownd Soveraine : Then gan this Realme renew her passed prime : He of his name Coylehester built of stone and lime. LIX. Which when the Romanes heard, they hether sent Constantius, a man of mickle might. With whome King Coyll made an agreement. And to him gave for wife his daughter bright, Fayre Helena, the fairest living vright. Who in all godly thewes and goodly praise Did far excell, but was most famous hight For skil in musicke of all in her dales. As well in curious instraments as cunning laies : -besides] Near. Chukch. Of whome de did great Constantine begett. Who afterward was emperour of Rome ; To which whiles absent he his mind did sett, Octavius here lept into his roome, And it usurped by uniighteous doome : But he his title iustifide by might. Slaying Traheme, and having overcome The Romane legion in dreadfull fight : So settled he his kingdome, and confirmd his right : Lxr. But, wanting yssew male, his daughter deare He gave in wedlocks to Maximian, And him with her made of his Idngdome heyre. Who soone by meanes thereof the Empire wan, Till murdred by the freends of Gratian. Then gan the Hunnes and Picts invade tliis Land, Dming the raigne of Maximinian ; Who dying left none heire them to withstand ; But that they overran all parts with easy hand. LXIT. The weary Britons, whose war-hable youth Was by Maximian lately ledd away. With wretched miseryes and woefull ruth Were to those Pagans made an open pray. And daily spectacle of sad decay : [yeares Whome Romane warres, wliich now fowr hundred And more had wasted, could no whit dismay ; Til, by consent of Commons and of Peares, They crownd the second Constantine with ioyous teares : Lxrrr. Who having oft in batteill vanquished Those spoylefull Picts, and swarming Easterlings, Long time in peace his Realme established. Yet oft annoyd with sondry bordragings Of neighbour Scots, and forrein scatterlings With which the world did in those dayes abound : Which to outbarre, with painefull pyonings From sea to sea he heapt a mighty mound, Which from Alcluid to Panwelt did that border bownd. LXIV. Three sonnes he dying left, all under age ; By meanes whereof their imcle Vortigere Usurpt the crowne during their pupillage ; Which th' infants tutors gathering to feare. Them closely into Armorick did beare : For dread of whom, and for those Picts annoyes. He sent to Germany straunge aid to reare ; From whence eflsoones arrived here three hoyea Of Saxons, whom he for his safety imployes. LXV. Two brethren were their capitayns, which hight Hengist and Horsus, well approv'd in warre. And both of them men of renowmed might ; Who making vantage of their civile iarre. And of those forreyners which came from farre, Lxin. 4. bordragings] Bordraginfr is an incursion on the borders or marches of a country. Todd. Lxiir. 5. scatterlings] Scattered or dispersed rovers or ravagers. Upton. Lxiii. 7. pyonings] Works of pioneers : military works raised by pioneers. Upton. Lxrv, 4. gathering to feare;] Gathering to feare i^ fearing the usurpation of Vortigere. Church. Lxrv. 7- straunge aid to reare ,•] To hire foreign troops. Church. CANTO X.] THE FAERIE QUEENE. 1)5 Grew great, and got large portions of land, That in the Realme ere long they stronger ari'e Then they which sought at fii-st their helping hand. And Vortiger enforst the Kingdome to aband. LXV[. But, by tlie helpe of Vortimere his Sonne, He is againe imto his rule restord ; And Hengist, seeming sad for that was doune, Received is to grace and new accord, [word. Through liis farre daughters face and flattring Soone after which, three hundred lords he slew Of British blood, all sitting at his bord ; Whose dolefull moniments who Ust to rew, Th' etemall marks of treason may at Stonheng By this the sonnes of Constantine, which fled, Ambrose and Uther, did ripe yeares attayne. And, here arriving, strongly challenged The crowne which Vortiger did long detayne : Who, flying from his guilt, by them was slayne ; And Hengist eke soone brought to slmmefull death. Thenceforth Aurelius peaceably did rayne, Tin that through poyson stopped was his breath ; So now entombed lies at Stoneheng by the heath. After him Uther, which Pendragon hight, Succeeding — There abruptly it did end. Without full point, or other cesure right ; As if the rest some wicked hand did rend. Or th' author selfe could not at least attend To finish it : that so untimely breach The Prince himselfe halfe seemed to offend ; Yet secret pleasure did offence empeach. And wonder of antiquity long stopt his speach. LXIX. At last, quite ravisht with delight to heare The royaU ofspring of hia native land, [deare Cryde out ; " Deare Countrey ! how dearely Ought thy remembraunce and perpetuaU band Be to thy foster childe, that from thy hand Did commun breath and nouriture receave ! How brutish is it not to xmderstand How much to Her we owe, that all us gave ; That gave unto us all whatever good we have ! " But Guyon all this whUe liis booke did read, Ne yet has ended : for it was a great And ample volume, that doth far excead My leasure so long leaves here to repeat : It told how first Prometheus did create A man, of many parts from beasts deryv'd. And then stole fire from heven to animate His worke, for which he was by love depryv'd 'Of life himselfe, and hart-strings of an aegle ryv'd. That man so made he called Elfe, to weet Quick, the first author of all Elfin kynd ; Who, wandring through the world with wearie Did in the gardins of Adonis fynd [feet, A goodly creature, whom he deemd in mynd ■ empeach,J Hinder. Fr. emp^cher. TonD. To be no earthly wight, but either spright, Or angell, th' authour of all woman k}'nd ; Therefore a Fay he her according hight, Of whom all Faryes spring, and fetch their Ugnage right. LXXII. Of these a mighty people shortly grew, And puissant kinges which all the world warrayd, And to themselves all nations did subdew : The first and eldest, which that scepter swayd. Was Elfiu ; him all India obayd, And all that now America men call ; Next him was noble Elfinan, who laid Cleopolis foimdation first of all : But Eltiline enclosd it with a golden wall. Lxxni. His Sonne was Elfinell, who overcame The wicked Gobbelines in bloody field : But Elfant was of most renowmed fame. Who all of christall did Panthea build : Then Elfar, who two brethren gyauntes Idld, The one of which had two heades, th' other three ; Then Elfinor, who was in magick skild ; He built by art upon the glassy see A bridge of bras, whose sound hevens ■tliuiidei seem'd to be. LXXIV. He left three sonnes, the which in order raynd, And all their ofspring, in their dew descents ; Even seven hundi'ed princes, which maintaynd Witli mightie deedes their sondry governments That were too long their infinite contents Here to record, ne much materiall : Yet should they be most famous moniments. And brave ensample, both of martiall And civil rule, to Itinges and states impei'iall. After all these Elficleos did rayne. The wise Elficleos in great maiestie. Who mightily that scepter did sustayne, And with rich spoyles and famous victorie Did high advauuce the crowne of Faery : He left two sonnes, of which faire Elferon, The eldest brother, did untimely dy ; Whose emptie place the mightie Oberon Doubly supplide, m spousaU and dominion. LXXVI. Great was his power and glorie over all Wliich, him before, that sacred seate did fill. That yet remaines his wide menioriall : He dying left the fairest Tanaquill, Him to succeede therein, by his last will : Fairer and nobler Uveth none tins howre, Ne like in grace, ne like in learned skill ; Therefore they Glorian call that glorious flowre : Long mayst thou, Glorian, live m glory and great powre ! LXXVTI. Beguyld thus with dehght of novelties, And naturaU desire of Countryes state. So long they redd in those antiquities, That how the time was fled they quite forgate ; Till gentle Alma, seeing it so late. Perforce their studies broke, and them besought To thinke how supper did them long awaite : Sohalfeunwilling from their bookes them brought. And fayrely feasted as so noble Knightes she ought. 116 THE FAERIE QUEENE. [book II. CANTO XI The Enimiea of Temperaunce Besiege her dwelling place; Prince Arthure them repelles, and fowle Maleger doth deface. What warre so cruel, or what siege so sore. As that, which strong Affections doe apply Against the forte of Reason evermore, To bring the sowle into captivity ! Their force is fiercer through infirmity Of the fraile flesh, relenting to their rage ; And exercise most bitter tyranny Upon the partes, brought into their bondage : No wretchedjiesse is lilte to sinfull vellenage. II. But in a body which dotli freely yeeld His partes to Reasons rule obedient. And letteth Her that ought the scepter weeld. All happy peace and goodly government Is setled there in sure establisliment. There Alma, like a Virgin Queene most bright, Dotli florish in all beautie excellent ; And to her guestes doth bounteous banket dight, Attempred goodly well for health and for delight. ITI. Early, before the Mome with cremosin ray The windowes of bright heaven opened had, Through which into the world the dawning Day Might looke, that maketh every creature glad. Uprose Sir Guyon in bright armour clad. And to his purposd ioumey him prepar'd : With him the Palmer eke in habit sad Himselfe addrest to that adventure hard : So to the rivers syde they both together far'd : JV, Where them awaited ready at the ford The Ferriman, as Alma had behight. With his well-rigged bote : They goe abord. And he eftsoones gan launch his barke forthright. Ere long they rowed were quite out of sight, And fast the land behynd them fled away. But let them pas, whiles winde and wether right Doe servetheir turnes : here I a wliile must stay. To see a cruell fight doen by the Prince tliis day. V. For, all so soone as Guyon thence was gon Upon his voyage with his trustie Guyde, That wicked band of Villeins fresh begon That Castle to assaile on every side. And lay strong siege about it far and wyde. So huge and infinite their numbers were. That all the land they under them did hyde ; So fowle and ugly, that exceeding ffeare Their visages imprest, when they approched neare. VI. Them in twelve Troupes their Captein did dispart. And round about in fittest steades did place, Where each might best offend his proper part. And liis contriiry obiect most deface. As every one seem'd meetest in that cace. Seven of the same against the Castle-Gate J. 9. . vellenage.] Servitude, old Fr. any base or servile tenure. Todd. In strong entrenchments he did closely place, Which with incessaunt force and endlesse hate They battred day and night, and entraunce did awate. vir. The other Five five sondry wayes he sett Against the five great Bulwarkes of that pyle, And unto each a Bulwarke did arrett, T' assayle with open force or hidden guyle. In hope thereof to wia victorious spoUe. They aU that charge did fervently apply With greedie maUce and importune toyle, And planted there their huge artillery. With which they dayly made most dreadfull battery. VIII. The first Troupe was a monstrous rablement Of fowle misshapen wightes, of which some were Headed like owles, with beckes uncomely bent ; Others hke dogs ; others like gryphons dreare ; And some had wings, and some had clawes to And every one of them had lynces eyes ; [teare j And every one did how and arrowes beare : All those were lawlesse Lustes, corrupt Envies, And covetous Aspects, all cruel enimyes. IX. Those same against tbe Bulwarke of the Sight Did lay strong siege and battailous assault, Ne once did yield it respitt day nor night ; But soone as Titan gan his head exault. And soone againe as he his hght 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. X. The second Bulwarke was the Hearing Sence, Gainst which the second Troupe dessignment makes ; Deformed creatures, in straunge difference : Some having headslilcehart3,sornelike to snakes. Some Uke wild bores late rouzd out of the brakes : Slaunderous Reproches, and fowle Infamies, Leasinges, Backbytinges, and vain-glorious Crakes, Bad Coimsels, Prayses, and false Flatteries : All those against that Fort did bend their batteries. XI. Likewise that same third Fort, that is the Smell, Of that third Troupe was cruelly assayd ; Whose hideous shapes>vere li ke to feendes of hell, Some Uke to houndes,some hke to apes, dismay d ; Some, hke to puttockes, all in plumes arayd ; AU shap't according their conditions : VII. 3. arrett,] Appoint, or assign. The poet often uses the word in this sense. Todd. vn. 6. apply] Mind, observe. Todd. IX. 7- That is, each thing by which the eyes may fault :] Their wicked engines, meaning each thing by which the eyes may offend, or be in fault. The substantive is changed into a verb. Upton. X. 7. Crakes,] Boastings. To crack, is still used in the Korth of England, and in Scotland, for to brag or boast. Todd. XI. 4. dismayd;] Dismayed is frightened. But I can hardly think that Spenser uses it here in that sense. Possibly by dismayed or dismad he means ugly, ill-shaped, in French malfait* Jortin. CiNTO XI.] THE FAERIE QUEENE. 117 For by those ugly formes, weren pourtrayd Foolish Delights, and fond Abusions, Which doe that Sence besiege with hght illusions. xir. And that fourth Band which crueU battry bent Against the fom'th Bulvvarke, tliat is the Taste, Was, as the rest, a grysie rablement ; Some mouth'd like greedy oystriges ; some faste Like loathly toades ; some fashioned in the waste Like swuie : for so deformd is Luxury, Surfeat, Misdiet, and unthriftie Waste, Vaine Feastes, and ydle Superfluity : All those this Sences Fort assayle incessantly. But tlie fift Troupe, most horrible of hew And force of force, is dreadfuU to report ; For some Uke snailes,some did like spyders shew. And some like ugly urchins thick and short : Cruelly they assayled that fift Fort, Armed with dartes of seusuall DeUght, With stinges of eamall Lust, and strong effdrt Of feeMng Pleasures, mth which day and night Against that same fift Bulwarke they continued fight. XIV. Thus these twelve Troupes with dreadfull puis- saunce Against that Castle restlesse siege did lay. And evermore their liideous ordinaunce Upon the Bulwarkes cruelly did play, That now it gan to threaten neare decay : And evermore their wicked Capitayn Provoked them the breaches to assay, [gayn. Sometimes with threats, sometimes with hope of Which by the ransack of that Peece they should attayn. XV. On th' otlier syde, th' assieged Castles Ward Their stedfast stonds did mightily maintaine. And many bold repulse and many hard [payne, Atchievement wrought, with perill and with That goodly Frame from ruine to sustaine : And tiiose two brethren Gyauntes did defend The walles so stoutly with their sturdie mayne, lliat never entraxmce any durst pretend. But they to direfull death their groning ghosts did send. xvr. The noble virgin, Ladie of the place. Was much dismayed with that dreadful sight, (For never was she in so evill eace,) TiU that the Prince, seeing her wofull pHght, Gan her recomfort from so sad affright, Offring his service and his dearest life For her defence against that Carle to fight, Wliich was their Chiefe and th' authour of that strife : She him remercied as the patrone of her life. XII. 4. faste] J^aced, having faces. Chukch. xni. 4 urchins] Hedge-hogs, which malie indeed a considerable figure in the demonologick system. Todd. xiv. 9. that Peece] Peece is often used by Spenser for castle' Todd. XV. 1. Ward] Tfte.CMOi-ds, or garrison. Todd. XV. 6. those two brethren Gyavnles} Prince Arthur, and his Squire Tijnias ; giants in prowess and in courage. Upton, XVI. ». remeroiedT Thanked. Fr. Church. Eftsoones himselfe in glitterand armes he dight. And his well proved weapons to him hent ; So taking coui'teous cong6, he behight Those gates to be unbar'd, and forth he went. Fayre mote he thee, the prowest and most gent, That ever brandished bright Steele on hye 1 Whom soone as that unruly rablement With his gay SqujTe issewing did espye, Theyreard a most outrageous dreadfull yelling cry : XVIII. And therewithall attonce at him let fly Then- 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, threates to overflow With suddein fury aU the fertile playne, And the sad husbandmans long hope doth throw Adowne the streame, and all his vowes make vayne ; Nor bounds nor banks his headlong ruine may sustayne. XIX. Upon his shield there heaped hayle he bore. And with his sword disperst the raskall flockes. Which fled asonder, and him fell before ; As withered leaves drop from their dryed stockes, When the wroth western wind does reave their locks : And underneath him his courageous steed, ThefierceSpumador,trode them downehke docks; The fierce Spumador borne of heavenly seed ; Such as Laomedon of Pho3bus race did breed. Which suddeine horrour and confused cry When as their Capteine heard, in haste he yode The cause to weet, and fault to remedy : Upon a tygre swift and fierce he rode. That as the winde ran underneath his lode. Whiles his long legs nigh raught unto the ground : Full large he was of limbe, and shoulders brode ; But of such subtile substance and unsound. That like a ghost he seem'd whose grave-clothes were unbound : And in his hand a bended bow was scene. And many arrowes under his right side, AU deadly daungerous, all cruell keene. Headed with flint, and fethers bloody dide ; Such as the Indians m their quivers hide : Those could he well direct and streight as line. And bid them strike the marke which he had eyde ; Ne was there salve, ne was there medicine. That mote recure their wounds ; so inly they did tine. XXII. As pale and wan as ashes was his looke ; His body leane and meagre as a rake ; And skin all withered Uke a dryed rooke ; Thereto as cold and drery as a snake ; xvir. 3. behight] Commanded. Todd. xvii. 5. Fapre mote he thee,] Thrive, prosper. TJpton. Ibid. gent,] Gent is a frequent epithet, in the old romances, as applied to ladies. Todd. xxi. 9. tine.] Injlame, rage, Anglo-Sax, ccnBau accendere. Upton. 118 THE FAERIE QUEENE. [BOOK U. That seemd to tremble evermore and quake : All in a canvas thin he was bedight. And girded with a belt of twisted brake : Upon his head he wore an helmet hght, Made of a dead mans skull, that seemd a ghastly sight : xxrii. Maleger was liis name : And after him There foUow'd fast at hand two wicked Hags, With hoary lockes all loose, and visage grim ; Their feet unshod, 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 Utle snags She did support, and Impotence her name : Butth'otherwas Impatience armd with raging flame. Sooue as the Carle from far the Prince espyde Glistring in armes and warlike ornament. His beast he felly prickt on either syde. And his mischievous bow full readie bent. With which at him a cruell shaft he sent : But he was warie, and it warded well Upon his shield, that it no further went. But to the ground the idle quarrell fell : Then he another and another did expell. Which to prevent, the Prince his mortall speare Soone to him raught, and fierce at him did ride, To be avenged of that shot whyleare : But he was not so hardy to abide That bitter stownd, but, turning quicke aside His light-foot beast, fled fast away for feare : Whom to poursue, the Infant after hide So fast as his good com-ser could him beare ; But labour lost it was to weene approch him neare. Far as the winged wind Ins tigre fled. That vew of eye could scarse him overtake, Ne scarse his feet on ground were seene to tred ; Through hilsaud dales he speedy way did make, Ne hedge ne ditch his readie passage brake. And in his flight the ViUeine tum'd his face (As wonts the Tartar by the Caspian lake, Whenas the Russian hira in fight does chace,) Unto his tygres taile, and shot at him apace. xxvrr. Apace he shot, and yet he fled apace. Still as the greedy Knight nigh to him drew ; And oftentimes he would relent his pace, That him his foe more fiercely should poursew : But, when his uncouth manner he did vew. He gan avize to follow him no more. But keepe his standing, and his shaftes eschew, Untill he quite had spent his perlous store. And then assayle him fresh, ere he could shift for more. xxviir. But that lame Hag, still as abroad he strew His wicked arrowes, gathered them againe. And to him brought, fresh batteill to renew ; Which he espying cast her to restraine - her other legge.'} Tliat is, her le/l leg. xxru. 6— Upton. XXIV. 8 quarrell] ¥r. Carreau, or Quar'rea:(, short thick square dart shot out of cross-hows. Church. From yielding succour to that cursed Swaine, And her attaching thought her hands to tje ; But, soone as him dismounted on the plaine That other Hag did far away espye Binding her Sister, she to him ran hastily ; And catching hold of him, as do^vne he lent, Him backeward overthrew, and downehim stayd With their rude handes and gryesly graplement ; TUl that the Villein, comming to their ayd. Upon him fell, and lode upon him layd : Full Utle wanted, but he had him slaine. And of the battell balefuU end had made. Had not his gentle Squire beheld his paine. And commen to his reskew ere his bitter bane. So greatest and most glorious thing on ground May often need the helpe of weaker hand ; So feeble is mans state, and Ufe unsound, That m assuraunee it may never stand. Till it dissolved be from earthly band ! Proofe be thou. Prince, the prowest man alyve. And noblest borne of all hi Briton land ; Yet thee fierce Fortune did so nearely drive. That, had not Grace thee blest, thou shouldest not The Squyre arriving, fiercely in his armes Snatoht first the one, and then the other Jade, His chiefest letts and authors of his harmes, And them perforce withheld with threatned blade. Least that his Lord they should behinde invade ; The whiles the Prince, prickt with reprochful shame. As one awakte out of long slombring shade, Bevivyng thought of glory and of fame. United all his powres to purge himselfe from blame. xxxrr. Like as a fire, the which in hollow cave Hath long bene underkept and down supprest. With murmurous disdayne doth inly rave. And grudge, in so streight prison to be prest. At last breakes forth with furious unrest. And strives to mount unto his native seat ; AH that did earst it hhider and molest, Yt now devoures with flames and scorching heat, And carries into smoake with rage and horror great; So mightely the Briton Prince him rouzd Out of his holde, and broke his caytive bands ; And as a beare, whom angry curres have touzd, Having ofF-shakt them and escapt their hands, Becomes more fell, and all that him withstands Treads down and o verthrowes. Now had the Carle Alighted from his tigre, and his hands Discharged of his bow and deadly quar'le. To seize upon his foe flatt lying on the marie. XXX rv. Which now him tumd to disa vantage deare : For neither can he fly, nor other harme, xxxui. 8. quar'le,] Quarrell, as before, in st. 24 Church. xxxiv. 2. nor other harme,"] That is, otherwite Upton. CANTO XI.] THE FAERIE QUEENE. 119 But trust unto his strength and manhood meare, Sith now he is far from his monstrous swarme, And of liis weapons did liimselfe disarme. The Knight, yet wrothfull for liis late disgrace, Fiercely advaunst his valorous right ai'me. And him so sore smott with his yron mace, That groveling to the ground he fell, and fild his place. XXXV. Wei weened hee that field wag then his owne. And all his labor brought to happy end ; When suddeiu up the VUleiue overthrowne Out of his swowne arose, fresh to contend. And gan himsehe to second battaill bend. As hurt he had not beene. Thereby there lay An huge great stone, which stood upon one end. And had not bene removed many a day ; [way : Some land-marki seemd to bee, or signe of sundry xxxvr. The same he snateht, and with exceeduig sway Threw at his foe, who was right well aware To shonne the engin of his meant decay ; It booted not to thinke that throw to beare. But gi-ownd he gave, and lightly lept areare : Eft fierce retouming, as a faulcon fayre. That once hath failed of her souse full neare, Remounts againe into the open ayre. And unto better fortune doth herselfe prepayre : XXXVII. So brave retouming, with his brandisht blade. He to the Carle himselfe agayn addrest, And strooke at him so sternely, that he made An open passage through his riven brest. That halfe the Steele behind his backe did rest ; Which drawing baeke, he looked evermore When the hart blood should gush out of his chest. Or his dead corse should fall upon the flore ; But his dead corse upon the flore fell nathemore : XXXVIII. Ne drop of blood appeared shed to bee, AU were the wownd so wide and wonderous That through his carcas one might playnly see. Halfe in amaze with horror hideous, And halfe in rage to be deluded thus, [quiglit, Again through both the sides he stroolce liiiu That made his spright to grone full piteous ; Yet nathemore forth fled his groning spright. But freshly, as at first, prepard himselfe to fight. XXXIX. Thereat he smitten was with great affright. And trembling terror did his hart apall ; Ne wist he what to thinke of that same sight, Ne what to say, ne what to doe at all : He doubted least it were some magicall Illusion that did beguile his sense, Or wandring ghost that wanted funerall, Or aery spirite under false pretence, Or hellish feend raysd up through divelish science. Zli. His wonder far exceeded reasons reach. That he began to doubt his dazeled sight. And oft of error did himselfe appeach : Flesh without blood, a person without spright. xxxiv. 9. andjild ids place.'} Tbat is, and he filled or covered the place on which he lay with his body. Upton. Womids without hurt, a body without might. That could doe harme, yet could not harmed bee, That could not die, yet seemd a mortall wight, That was most strong in most infirmitee ; Like did he never heare, hke did he never see. Awhile he stood hi this astonishment, Yet would he not for all his great dismay Give over to effect his first intent. And th' utmost meanes of victory assay. Or th' utmost yssew of his owne decay. His owne good sword Mordure, that never fayld At need till now, he lightly threw away. And his bright shield that noughthimnow avayld ; And with his naked hands him forcibly assayld. Twi.Kt his two mighty annes him up he snateht. And crusht his carcas so against his brest, That the disdainful! sowle he thence dispatcht, And th' ydle breath all utterly exprest : Tho, when he felt him dead, adowne he kest The lumpish corse mito the sencelesse grownd ; Adowne he kest it with so puissant wrest. That baoke againe it did alofte rebownd. And gave against his mother Earth a gronefuU sownd. XLiri. As when loves harnesse-bearing bird from hye Stoupes at a flying heron with proud disdayne. The stone-dead quarrey falls so forciblye. That yt rebownds against the lowly playne, A second fall redoubling backe agajTie. Theu thought the Prince all peril sure was past. And that he victor onely did remayne ; No sooner thought, then that the Carle as fast Gan heap huge strokes on him, as ere he doVvn was cast. XLIV. Nigh Iris wits end then woxe th' amazed Knight, And thought his labor lost, and travell vayne. Against this lifelesse shadow so to fight : Yet life he saw, and felt his mighty mayne, Tliat, whiles he marveild still, did still him pajTie ; Fortliy he gan some other wayes advize. How to take hfe from that dead-living swayne. Whom still he marked freshly to arize From th' earth, and from her womb new sph'its to reprize. XLV. He then remembred well, that had bene sayd, Howth' Earth his mother was, and first him bore ; She eke, so often as his life decayd. Did life with usury to him restore. And reysd him up much stronger then before. So soone as he unto her wombe did fall : Therefore to grownd he would him cast no more, Ne him committ to grave terrestrial!. But beare him farre from hope of succom- usual!. XLII. 4. exprest :] Pressed out. Lat. expriwo. The French use erprimer and expression in the same sense. Todd, xiin. 3. — guarrey'} A term in falconry. Any fowl that is flown at and killed. It is used for ffame in general. Church. xLiv. 9. to reprize.] To take again. Fr. reprendre. Church. 120 THE FAERIE QUEENE. [book il Tho up he caught him twixt his puissant hands. And having seruzd out of his carrion corse The lothfull life, now loosd from sinfuH bands. Upon liis shoulders carried him perforse Above tliree furlongs, taking his full course, Until he came unto a standing lake ; Him thereinto he threw without remorse, Ne stird, tiU hope of life did him forsake ; So end of that Carles dayes and his owne paynea did make. XLvri- Which when those wicked Hags from far did spye, Like two mad dogs they ran about the lands ; And th' one of them with dreadfuU yelling crye. Throwing away her broken chaines and bands. And having quencht her burning fier-brands, Hedlong herselfe did cast into that lake : But Impotence with her owne wilfull hands One of Malegers cursed darts did take. So ryv'd her trembling hart, and wicked end did make. xLviir. Thus now alone he conquerour remaines : Tho, cumraing to his Squyre that kept his steed. Thought to have mounted ; but his feeble values Him faild thereto, and served not his need. Through losse of blood which from his wounds did bleed. That he began to faint, and life decay : But his good Squyre, him helping up with speed, With stedfast hand upon his horse did stay. And led liim to the Castle by the beaten way. Where many Groomes and Squiers ready were To take him from his steed fuU tenderly ; And eke the fayrest Alma mett him there With balrae, and wine, and costly spicery. To comfort him in his infirmity : Eftesoones she causd him up to be convayd. And of his armes despoyled easily In sumptuous bed shee made him to be layd ; And, al the while his wounds were dressing, by him stayd. CANTO XII. Guyon, by Palmers Rovernaunce, Passing through perilles great. Doth overthrow the Bowre of Blis, And Acrasy defeat. Now ginnes that goodly frame of Temperaunce Fayi'ely to rise, and her adorned bed To pricke of highest prayse forth to advaunce. Formerly grounded and fast setteled On firme foundation of true bountyhed : And this brave Knight, thatforthis vertue fightes. Now comes to point of that same perilous sted, Where Pleasure dwelles in sensuaU delights, Mongst thousand dangers and ten thousand magick mights. xxvr. 2. seruzd] Pressed out. Todd. 1. 8. Pleasure^ The same as Aerasy or Acrasia. See St. 48. Church. Two dayes now in that sea he sayled has, Ne ever land beheld, ne living wight, Ne ought save perill, still as he did pas : Tho, when appeared the third Morrow bright Upon the waves to spred her trembling light, An hideous roring far away they heard, That all their sences filled with affright ; And streight they saw the raging surges reard Upto theskyes,that them of drowning made affeard. Said then the Boteman, " Palmer, stere axight, And keepe an even course ; for yonder way We needes must pas (God doe us well acquight !) That is the Gulfe of Greedinesse, they say. That deepe engorgeth all this worldes pray ; Which having swallowd up excessively, He soone in vomit up againe doth lay. And belcheth forth his superfluity. That all the seas for feare doe seeme away to fly. " On th' other syde an liideous Rock is pight Of miglitie magnes stone, whose craggie cUft Depending from on high, dreadfuU to sight. Over the waves his rugged armes doth lift. And threatneth downe to throw his ragged rift On whoso Cometh nigh ; yet nigh it drawes All passengers, that none from it can shift : For, whiles they fly that Gulfe's devouring iawes. They on the rock are rent, and sunck in helples wawes." Forward they passe, and strongly he them rowes, Untill they nigh unto that Gulfe arryve. Where streame more violent and greedy growes : Then he with all his puisaunce doth stryve To strike his oares, and mightily doth dryve The hollow vessell through the threatfuU wave ; Which, gaping wide to swallow them alyve In th' huge abysse of his engulfing grave. Doth rore at them in vaine,.and with great terrour rare. They, passing by, that grisely mouth did see Sucking the seas into his entralles deepe. That seemd more horrible than heU to bee. Or that darke dreadfuU hole of Tartare steepe Through which the damned ghosts doen often Backe to the world, bad hvers to torment : [creep But nought that faUes into this direfuU deepe, Ne that approcheth nigh the wyde descent. May backe retoume, but is condemned to be dreni On th' other side they saw that perilous Rocke, Theatning itselfe on them to ruinate. On whose sharp cliftes the ribs of vessels broke ; And shivered ships, which had beene wrecked Yet stuck with carcases exanimate [late. Of such, as having all their substance spent In wanton ioyes and lustes intemperate. Did afterwardes make shipwrack violent Both of their life and fame for ever fowly blent. IV. 9. in helples wawes.] Wawes put, for the sake of the rhyme, ioT waves, or perhaps for wom. Hughes. VII. 2. io ruinate,"] To fall. ItaL ruinare. Todb OANIO XII.] THE FAERIE QUEENE. 1-21 Forthy this Mght the Rock of vile Reproch, A daungerous and detestable place. To whicli nor fish nor fowle (fid once approch, But yelling meawes, with seaguUeshoars and bace, And cormoyraunts, with birds of ravenous race, Which still sat wayting on that wastfull cUft For spoile of wretches, whose unhappy cace. After lost credit and consiuned thrift. At last them driven hath to this despairefull drift. The Palmer, seeing them in safetie past, Tlius saide ; " Behold th' ensamples in our sightea Of lustfull luxurie and thriftlesse wast ! What now is left of miserable wightes. Which spent their looser dales in leud delightes. But shame and sad reproch, here to be red By these rent reUques speaking their iU plightes ! Let all that live hereby be counselled To shurme Rock of Reproch, and it as death to dread ! " X. So forth they rowed ; and that Ferryman With his stiffe oares did brush the sea so strong, That the hoare waters from his frigot ran. And the hght bubles daimced all along, Whiles the salt brine out of the billowes sprong. At last far off they many Islandes spy On every side floting the floodes emong : Then said the Knight ; " Lo ! I the land descry ; Therefore, old Syre, thy course doe thereunto apply." XT. " That may not bee,'' said then the Ferryman, " Least wee unweeting hap to be fordonne : For those same Islands, seeming now and than, Are not firme land, nor any certein wonue, But stragling plots, which to and fro doe ronne In the wide waters ; therefore are they hight The Wandring Islands : Therefore doe them shonne ; For they have oft drawne many a wandring wight Into most deadly daunger and distressed plight. xn. « Yet well they seeme to him, that farre doth vew. Both faire and fruitful!, and the grownd dispred With grassy greeue of delectable hew ; And the tall trees with leaves appareled Are deckt with blossoms dyde in wliite and red. That mote the passengers thereto allure ; But whosoever once hath fastened His foot thereon, may never it recure. But wandreth evermore uncertein and unsure. " As th' isle of Delos whylome, men report. Amid th' Aegsean sea long time did stray, Ke made for shipping any certeine port, Till that Latona travelling that way. Flying from lunoes wrath and hard assay, Of her fayre° twins was there dehvered, Wliich afterwards did rule the night and day ; Thenceforth it iirmely was established, And for ApoUoes temple highly berried." xlf. 8. ■ recui-e,] Recover. So, in st. 79, recur^d for recover'd. Church. x(i!. 9. berried.] Honoured. Todd. They to him hearken, as beseemeth meete ; And passe on forward : so their way does ly, That one of those same Islands, which doe fleet In the wide sea, they needes must passen by. Which seemd so sweet and pleasaunt to the eye. That it would tempt a man to touchen there : Upon the banck they sitting did espy A daintie DamseU dressing of her heare. By whom a little skippet fioting did appeare. XV. She, them espying, loud to them can call, Bidding them nigher draw unto the shore, • For she had cause to busie them withall ; And therewith lowdly laught : But nathemore Would they once turne, but kept on as afore : Which when she saw, she left her lockes undight, And running to her looat withouten ore, From the departing land it launched light. And after them did drive with all her power and might. XVI. Whom overtaking, she in merry sort Them gan to bord, and purpose diversly ; Now faining dalliaunce and wanton sport. Now throwing forth lewd wordes immodestly ; Till that the Palmer gan full bitterly Her to rebuke for being loose and light : Which not abiding, but more scornfully Scofting at him that did her iustly wite. She turnd her bote about, and from them rowed quite. XVIT. Tliat was the wanton Phaedria, which late Did ferry him over the Idle Lake : Whom nought regarding they kept on their gate_, And all her vaine allurements did forsake ; When them the wary Boteman thus bespake ; " Here now behoveth us well to avyse. And of our safety good heede to take ; For here before a perlous passage lyes. Where many Mermayds hamit making false melo- dies: xTitr. " But by the way there is a great Quicksand, And a Whirlepoole of hidden ieopardy ; Therefore, Sir Palmer, keepe an even hand ; For tivixt them both the narrow way doth ly." Scarse had he saide, when hard at hand they spy That Quicksand nigh with water covered ; But by the checked wave they did descry It plaine, and by the sea discoloured : It called was the Quiokesand of Unthriftyhed. XIX. They, passing by, a goodly ship did see, Laden from far with precious merchandize, And bravely furnished as ship might bee. Which through great disaventure, or mesprize. XVI. 2. Them gan to bord,] To accost. Often used in tbis sense by Spenser. Fr. Aborder. Todu. Ibid. and purpose diversly ;] That is, and dis- course of different things. Church. XVI. 8. wite,] Blame. Todd. xvn. 2. ftim] Not the Palmer, but Sir Guyon. Church. XVIII. 7. the cbeclted wave'] The poet uses eheckd for checquer'd, as the context shows. Todd. 122 THE FAERIE QDEENE. [book II. Herselfe had rorme into that hazardize ; Whose mariners and merchants with much toyle Labour'd in vadne to have recur'd their prize, And the rich wares to save from pitteous spoyle ; But neither toyle nor traveill might her backe recoyle. On th' other side they see that perilous Poole, That called was the Whirlepoole of Decay ; In which full many had with haplesae doole Beene suncke, of whpm no memorie did stay : Whose circled waters rapt with whirling sway. Like to a restlesse wheele, still ronning round. Did covet, as they passed by that way. To draw their bote within the utmost bound Of his wide labyrinth, and then to have them dround. But th' heedful Boteman strongly forth did stretch His brawnie arm-ts, and all his bodie atraine. That th' utmost iandy breach they shortly fetch. Whiles the dredd daunger does behind remaine. Suddeine they see from midst of all the maine The surging waters like a mountaine rise. And the great sea, puft up with proud disdaiue. To swell above the measure of his guise. As threatning to devoure all that his powre despise. The waves come rolling, and the billowes rore Outragiously, as they enraged were. Or wrathfull Neptune did them drive before His whirling charet for exceeding feare ; For not one puffe of winde there did appeare ; That all the three thereat woxe much afrayd, Unweeting what such horrour straunge did reare. Eftsoones they saw an hideous hoaat arrayd Of huge sea-monsters, such as hving sence dismay d : Most ugly shapes and horrible aspects. Such as dame Nature selfe mote feare to see. Or shame, that ever should so fowle defects From her most cunning hand escaped bee ; All dreadfuU pourtraicts of deformitee : [whales; Spring-headed hydres ; and sea-shouldring Great whirlpooles, which all fishes make to flee ; Bright scolopendraes arm'd with silver scales ; Mighty monoceros with immeasured tayles ; The dreadful fish, that hath deserv'd the name Of Death, and like biTn lookes in dreadful! hew ; The griealy wasserman, that makes his game The flying slaips with swiftnes to pursew ; The horrible sea-satyre, that doth shew His fearefull face in time of greatest storme ; Huge ziflius, whom mariners eschew No lesse then rockes, as travellers informe ; And greedy rosmarines with visages deforme : XXI. 3. sandy breach they shortly fetch,] "What ja made by the breaking in of the sea, they call a breach. They fetch, that is, they come up to, arrive at. Upton. xxiii. 3. Or shame,] Be ashamed. Church. xxiii. 6. SpriTig-headed hydres, -I That is, hydras with heads springing or budding forth from their bodies. Upton. Ibid. sea-shouldring whales;'] Whales that shouldered on the seas before them. Upton. All these, and thousand thousands many more, And more deformed monsters thousand fold. With dreadfull noise and hoUow rombling rore Came rushing, in the fomy waves 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 entr£ll. " Feare nought," then saide the Palmer well aviz'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 us dreed, And draw from on this ioumey to proceed." Tho, lifting up his vertuous staffe on hye. He smote the sea, which calmed was with speedy And aU that dreadfull armie fast gan flye Into great Tethys bosome, where they hidden lye. Quit from that danger forth their course they kept ; And as they went they heard a ruefuU cry Of one that wayld and pittifully wept. That through the sea th' 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 evermore. Which Guyon hearing, streight his Palmer bad To stere the bote towards that doleful! Mayd, That he might know and ease her sorrow sad : Who, him avizing 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, Yourstubborne hart t'afieot with fraUe infirmity: " To which when she your courage hath inchnd Through foolish pitty, then her guilefull bayt She will enbosome deeper in your mind. And for your ruine at the last awayt." The Knight was ruled, and the Boteman strayt Held on his course with stayed stedfastnesse, Ne ever shroncke, ne ever sought to bayt His tyred armes for toylesome wearinesse ; But with his oares did sweepe the watry wilder- And now they nigh approched to the sted Whereas those Mermayds dwelt : It was a still And cahny bay, on th' one side sheltered With the brode shadow of an hoarie hill ; xxvi. 4. By that same wicked Witch,] Acrasia. Church. xxvi. 5. And draw from on this ioumey to proceed.] And to draw us from proceeding on this journey ; a Gre- cism,/rom to proceed, a.'zo rov ^^o^vctt'. Upton. xxviir. 7' For she is inly nothing ill apayd ;] That is, dissatisfied. Upton. xxjx. 7. ne ever sought to bayt His tyred armes] To bayt here signifies to reei. Church. CANTO XII.] THE FAERIE QUEENE. 123 On th' othei- side an high rocke toured still, That twixt themboth apleasauntportthey made, And did like an halfe tlieatre fulfill : There those five Sisters had continuall trade. And usd to batli themselves in that deeeiptfiiU They were faire Ladies, till they fondly striv'd With th' Heheonian Maides for maystery ; Of whom they over-comen were depriv'd Of their proud beautie, and th' one moyity Transform'd to fisli for their bold surquedry ; But th' upper halfe their hew retayned still. And their sweet sldU in wonted melody ; Which 3ver after they abusd to Ul, T' allure weake traveillers, whom gotten they did kill. XXXII. So now to Guyon, as he passed by. Their pleasaunt tunes they sweetly thus applyde ; " thou fayre soune of gentle Faery That art in mightie armes most magnifyde Above aJl Knights that ever batteill tryde, turne thy rudder hetherward awhile : Here may thy storme-bett vesseU safely ryde ; This is the Port of rest from troublous toyle. The worldes sweet In from paine and wearisome turmoyle." XXXIII. With that the rolling sea, resounding soft, In his big base them fitly answered ; And on the rocke the waves breaking aloft A solemne meane unto them measured ; The whiles sweet zephyrus lowd whisteled His treble, a straunge kiude of harmony ; Which Guyons senses softly tickeled. That he the Boteman bad row easily. And let him heare some part of their rare melody. XXXIV. But him the Palmer from that vanity With temperate advice discounseUed, That they it past, and shortly gan descry The land to which their course they levelled ; When suddeinly a grosae fog over spred With his dull vapour all that desert has. And heavens ehearefuU face enveloped. That aU things one, and one as nothing was. And this great universe seemd one confused mas. XXXV, Thereat they greatly were dismayd, ne wist How to direct theyr way in darkenes wide. But feard to wander iu that wastefull mist. For tombhng uito mischiefe unespyde : Worse is the daunger hidden then descride. Suddeinly an innumerable flight Of harmefull fowles about them fluttering cride. And with their wicked wings them ofte did smight. And sore annoyed, groping in that griesly night. XXXVI. Even all tlie nation of unfortunate And fatall birds about them flocked were, XXX. 7. And did UUan ftaZ/e ttcaJrc fulfill :] That is. And did fulfill, or complete, the whole, like to an amphi- theatre. Upton. xxxj. 5. their bold surquedry i] Pride. Todd. XXXV. 4. For lombling &c.] That is, Lest they should tumble, or, that they might not tumble. Church. Such as by nature men abhorre and hate ; The iU-faste owle, deaths dreadfufl messengere , The hoars night-raven, trump of dolefull di'ere ; The lether-wiuged batt, dayes enimy ; The ruefuU strich, still waiting on the bere ; The whistler slmll, that whoso heares doth dy ; The hellish harpyes, prophets of sad destiny : XXXVII. AU those, and all that els does horror 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 itselfe did playnly show. Said then the Palmer ; " Lo ! where does appeare The sacred soile where all our perills grow I Therefore, Sir Knight, your ready arms about you throw." He hearlmed, and his armes about him tooke. The wiiiles the nimble bote so well her sped, Tliat with her crooked keele the land she strooke : Then forth the noble Guyon sallied. And his sage Palmer that liim governed ; But th' other by his bote behind did stay. They marched fayrly forth, of nought ydred, Botli firmely armd for every hard assay, With constancy and care, gainst daunger and dismay. Ere long they heard an hideous bellowing Of many beasts, that roard outrageously, As if that hungers poynt or Venus sting Had them em-aged with fell surquedry ; Yet nought they feard, but past on hardily, Untill they came in vew of those wdde beasts. Who all attonce, gaping fuU greedily. And rearing fercely their upstaring crests. Ran towards to devoure those unexpected guests. But, soone as they approcht with deadly threat. The Pahner over them his staffe upheld. His mighty staffe, that could all eharmes defeat : Eftesoones their stubborne corages were queld. And high advaimced crests downe meekely feld ; Instead of fraying they themselves did feare. And trembled, as them passing they beheld : Such wondrous powre did in that staffe appeare. All monsters to subdew to him that did it beare. Of that same wood it fram'd was cunningly, Of which Caduceus whilome was made, Cadueeus, the rod of Mercury, With which he wonts the Stygian realmes invade Through ghastly hon'or and eternall shade ; Th' iufernall feends with it he can asswage. And Orcus tame, whome nothing can persuade, And rule the Furyes when tliey most doe rage : Such vertue in his staffe had eke this Pahner sage. xxxvi. 7- The ruefuU strich,] The scrietcli-owl, a-T^'iy%, strix. Upton. xxxvii, 2 andjild their sayles with feare ;] That is, And filled their sailes with fearful objects. Upton. XXXVII. e. The sacred soile] The sacred soile is the enchanted soile, as sacro is used by the Italian poets : or cursed, abominable; for he calls it "the cursed land," F. Q. ii. i. 61. Upton. 124 THE FAERIE QUEENE. [book II Thence passing forth, they shortly doe arryve Whereas the Bowre of BHsse was situate ; A place piclvt out by choyce of best aly ve, That natures worke by art can imitate : In which whatever in this worldly state Is sweete and pleasing unto living sense, Or that may dayntest fantasy aggi'ate. Was poured forth with plentiful! dispence, And made there to abound with lavish affluence. Goodly it was enclosed rownd about, Aswell their entred guestes to keep within, , As those unruly beasts to hold without ; Yet was the fence thereof but weake and thin : Nought feard their force that fortUage to win, But Wisedomes powre, and Temperaunces might, By which the mightiest tilings efforced bin : And eke the gate was wrought of substaunce light. Rather for pleasure then for battery or fight. Yt framed was of precious yvory. That seemd a worke of admirable witt ; And therein all the famous history Of lason and Medaea was ywritt ; Her mighty charmes, her furious loving fitt ; His goodly conquest of the golden fleece. His falsed fayth, and love too lightly flitt ; The wondred Argo, which in venturous peece First through the Euxine seas bore all the flowr of Greece. Ye might have seene the frothy billowes fry Under the ship as thorough them she went, That seemd the waves were into yvory. Or yvory into the waves were sent ; And otherwhere the snowy substaunce sprent With vermeil, like the boyes blood therein shed, A piteous spectacle did represent ; And otherwhiles with gold besprinkeled Yt seemd th' enohaunted flame, wliich did Creusa wed. xLvr. All this and more might in that goodly gate Be red, that ever open stood to all Which thether came : but in the porch there sate A comely personage of stature tall. And semblaunce pleasing, more then natural!. That travellers to him seemd to entize ; His looser garment to the ground did faU, And flew about his heeles in wanton -svize. Not fitt for speedy pace or manly exercize. XLVII. They in that place him Genius did call : Not that celestiall Powre, to whom the care Of life, and generation of all That lives, perteines in charge particulare, Who wondrous thiugs concerning our welfare, Andstraunge phantomes doth lett us ofte foresee. And ofte of secret ills bids us beware : xLii. s. dispenoe,] Expence, profusion. Todd. xiiv. 8. peece] Castle. Ships anciently were so called Church. XLV. 5. sprent] Sprinkled or spread over. Todd. XLV. 8. And otherwhiles] So all the editions. I think it should be othertohere, as in line 5th. Church. That is our Selfe, whom though we do not see. Yet each doth in himselfe it well perceive to bee : Therefore a god him sage Antiquity Did wisely make, and good Agdistes call : But this same was to that quite contrary. The foe of Ufe, that good envyes to all. That secretly doth us procure to fall Through guUefuU semblants, which he makes us He of this Gardin had the governall, [see : And Pleasures Porter was devizd to bee. Holding a staffe in hand for more formalitee. With diverse flowres he daintily was deckt, And strewed rownd about ; and by his side A mighty mazer bowle of wine was sett. As if it had to him bene sacrifide ; Wherewith all new-come guests he gratyfide : So did he eke Sir Guyon passing by ; But he his ydle curtesie defide, And overthrew his bowle disdainfully, And broke his staffe, with which he chaxmed sem- blants sly. L. Thus being entred, they behold arownd A large and spacious plaioe, on every side Strowed with pleasauns; whose fayi-e grassy grownd Mantled with greene, and goodly beautifide With all the ornaments of Floraes pride. Wherewith her mother Art, as halfe in scorne Of niggard Nature, hke a pompous bride Did decke her, and too lavishly adome. When forth from virgin bowre she comes in th' early morne. Lr. Thereto the heavens alwayes joviall Lookte on them lovely, still in stedfast state, Ne suljred storme nor frost on them to fall Their tender buds or leaves to violate ; Nor scorching heat, nor cold intemperate, T' afflict the creatures which therein did dwell ; But the milde ayre with season moderate Gently attempred, and disposd so well. That still it breathed forth sweet spirit andholesom smell: Ln. More sweet and liolesome then the pleasaunt hill Of Rhodope, on which the nimphe, that bore A gyaunt babe, herselfe for griefe did kill ; Or the Thessalian Tempe, where of yore Fayre Daphne Phcebus hart with love did gore ; Or Ida, where the gods lov'd to repayre. Whenever they their heavenly bowres forlore ; Or sweet Pamasse, the haunt of Muses fayre ; Or Eden Belfe, if ought with Eden mote compayre. Much wondred Guyon at the fayre aspect Of that sweet place, yet suffred uo dehght XLVII. 8. our Sel/e,'] Our Soul. Church. XLix. 9. with which he charmed semblants sly.] Either sly Is here used adverbially for slylt/, cunningly ; with which he cunninrjly charmed, i. e. conjured up phantoms : or " semblants sll/," and " guitefull semblantB/' St. 48. are synonymous expresalonB. Church. CANTO XII.] THE FAERIE QUEENE. 126 To sinclce into his sence, nor mind affect ; But passed forth, and lookt still forward right, Brydling his will and maystering his might : Till that he came unto another gate ; No gate, but Uke one. being goodly dight [dilate With bowes and braunches, which did broad Their clasping armes in wanton wreaihings intri- cate: LIV. So fashioned a porch with rare device, Archt over head with an embracing vine. Whose bounches hanging downe seemd to entice All passers-by to taste their lushious ivine. And did themselves into their hands incline. As freely offering to be gathered ; Some deepe empurpled as the hyacine. Some as the rubine laughing sweetely red. Some like faire emeraudes, not yet weU ripened : And them amongst some were of biunisht gold. So made by art to beautify the rest. Which did themselves emongst tlie leaves enfold, As lurking from the vew of covetous guest. That the weake boughes with so rich load opprest Did bow adowne as overburdened. Under that porch a comely Dame did rest Clad in fayre weedes but fowle disordered. And garments loose that seemd xmmeet for woman- hed: In her left hand a cup of gold she held. And with her right the riper fruit did reach. Whose sappy liquor, that with fulnesse sweld. Into her cup she scruzd with daintie breach Of her fine fingers, without fowle empeach. That so faire winepresse made the wine more sweet : Thereof she usd to give to drinke to each. Whom passing by she happened to meet : It was her guise all straungers goodly so to greet. So she to Guyon offred it to tast ; Who, taking it out of her tender hond, The cup to ground did violently cast. That all in peeces it was broken fond. And with the liquor stained all the lond ; Whereat Excesse exceedinly was wroth. Yet no'te the same amend, ne yet withstond. But suffered him to passe, all were she loth ; Who, nought regarding her displeasure, forward goth. LViir. There the most daintie paradise on ground Itselfe doth offer to his sober eye, In which all pleasures plenteously abownd. And none does others happinesse envye ; The painted flowres ; the trees upshooting hye ; The dales for shade ; the hiUesfor breathing space ; The trembling groves ; the christall running by ; And, that which all faire workes doth most aggrace, [place. The art, which all that wrought, appeared in no MV. b.- Lvr. 4. LVl. fi. -incline,] Bend down, Lat. inclino. Church. . daintie] Delicate. Church. . fine] Taper, thin. Church. One would have thought, (so cunningly the rude And scorned partes were mingled with the fine. That Nature had for wantonesse ensude Art, and that Art at Nature did repine ; So striving each th' other to undermine. Each did the others worke more beautify ; So diff'ring both in willes agreed in fine : So all agreed, through sweete diversity. This Gardin to adorne with aU variety. And in the midst of all a fountaine stood. Of richest substance that on earth might bee. So pure and shiny that the silver flood Through every channell running one might see ; Most goodly it with curious ymageree Was over- wrought, and shapes of naked boyes. Of which some seemd mth lively ioBitee To fly about, playing their wanton toyes, Whylest others did themselves embay in liquid ioyes. LXI- And over all of purest gold was spred A trayle of y vie in his native hew ; For tlie rich metall was so coloured. That wight, who did not well avis'd it vew, Wovdd surely deeme it to bee yvie trew : Low his lascivious armes adown did creepe. That themselves dipping in the silver dew Their fleecy flowres they fearfully did steepe. Which drops of christall seemd for wantones to weep. Lxir. Infinit streames continually did well Out of this fountaine, sweet and faire to see. The which into an ample laver fell. And shortly grew to so great quantitie. That hke a litle lake it seemd to bee ; Whose depth exceeded not three cubits hight. That through the waves one might the bottom see. All pav'd beneath with jaspar shmmg bright, That seemd the foimtaine m that sea did sayle upright. Lxin. And all the margent round about was sett With shady laurell trees, thence to defend The sunny beames which on the bUlowes bett. And those wliich therein bathed mote offend. As Guyon hapned by the same to wend. Two naked Damzelles he therein espyde. Which thejein bathmg seemed to contend And wrestle wantonly, ne car'd to hyde Their dainty partes from vew of any which them eyd. LXIV. Sometimes the one would lift the other quight Above the waters, and then downe agame Her plong, as over-maystered by might, ^ Where both awhile would covered remaine. And each the other from to rise restrame ; The whiles their snowy limbes, as through a yele, So through the christall waves appeared plame : Lx. 9 embay] In its primary sense, bathe ; in its metaphorical deligJd or cherish. Todd. ixiii. 2 to defend The sunny beamed That is, to tep off. Uptow- i2e THE FAERIE QUEENE. [book II. Then suddeinly both would themselves unhele, And th' amorous sweet spoiles to greedy eyes revele. LXV. As that faire starre, the messenger of mome, His deawy face out of the sea doth reare : Or as the Cyprian goddesse, newly borne Of th' ocean's fniitfull froth, did first appeare : Such seemed they, and so their yellow heare Christalline humor dropped downe apace. Whom such when Guyon saw, he drew him neare, And somewhat gan relent his earnest pace ; His stubborne brest gan secret pleasaunce to em- brace. LXVI. The wanton Maidens him espying, stood Gazing awhile at his unwonted guise ; Then th' one herselfe low ducked in the ilood, Abasht that her a straunger did avise : But th' other rather higher did arise, And her two liUy paps aloft displayd. And all, that might his melting hart entyse To her delights, she unto him bewrayd ; The rest, hidd underneath, liim more desirous made. With that the other likewise up arose, Andher faire lockes, which formerly were bownd Up in one knott, she low adowne did lose, Which flowing long and thick her cloth'd arownd. And th' yvorie in golden mantle govvnd : So that faire spectacle from him was reft, Yet that which reft it no lesse faire was fownd : So hidd in lockes and waves from lookers theft, Nought but her lovely face she for his looldng left. LXVTII. Withall she laughed, and she blusht withaU, That blushing to her laughter gave more grace, And laughter to her blushing, as did fall. Now when they spy de the Knight to slacke his pace Them to behold, and in his sparkling face The secrete signes of kindled lust appeare. Then- wanton merriments they did encreace. And to him beckned to approch more neare, And shewd him many sights that corage cold could reare : On which when gazing him the Palmer saw, He much rebukt those wandring eyes of his. And counseld well him forward thence did draw. Now are they come nigh to the Bohto of BUs, Of her fond favorites so uam'd amis ; When thus the Palmer ; " Now, Sir, well avise ; For here the end of all our traveiU is : Here wonnes Acrasia, whom we must surprise, Els she will slip away, and all our drift despise." Eftsoones they heard a most melodious sound, Of all that mote dehght a daintie eare. Such as attonce might not on living ground, Save in this pai-adise, be heard elsewhere : Right hard it was for wight which did it heare. To read what manner musicke that mote bee ; For all that pleasing is to living eare - unhele,] Uncover. Todd. Was there consorted in one harmonee ; Birdes, voices, instruments, windes, waters, all agree: LXXI. The ioyous birdes, shrouded in chearefuU shade, Their notes unto the voice attempred sweet ; Th' angehcall soft trembling voyces made To th' instruments divine respondence meet ; The silver-sounding instruments did meet With the base murmure of the waters fall ; The waters fall with difference discreet. Now soft, now loud, unto the wind did call ; The gentle warbling wind low answered to all. liXxn, There, whence that musick seemed heard to bee, Was the faire Witch herselfe now solacing With a new lover, whom, through sorceree And witchcraft, she from farre did thether bring ; There she had him now laid a slombering In secret shade after long wanton ioyes ; Whilst round about them pleasauntly did sing Many faire ladies and lascivious boyes. That ever mixt their song with light licentious toyea. LXXIIT. And all that while right over 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. LXXIV. The whiles some one did chaunt this lovely lay ; Ah/ see, whoso fayre thing doestfaineto see, In spriTu^mg Jlowre the image of thy day / Ah I see the virgin rose, how sweetly shee Doth first peepe foorth with iashfuUmodesteef That fairer seemes the lesse ye see her may / Lot see soone after how more hold a/ndfree Her bared hosome she doth broad display ; Lot see soone after how she fades a/nd falls away I LXXV- Sopasseth, in the passing of a day. Of mortall life the Uafe, the hud, the jlowre ; Ne more dothflorish after first decay. That earst was sought to deck hoth hed and bowe Of many a lady' amd many a pa/ramowre I Gather therefore the rose whilest yet is prime. For soone comes age that will her pride dejlowre : Gather the rose of love whilest yet is time, Whilest loving thou mayst loved he with equall crime. He ceast ; and then gan all the quire of birdes Their diverse notes t' attune unto his lay. As in approvaunce of his pleasing wordes. The constant Payre heard all that he did say. Yet swarved not, but kept their forward way Through many covert groves and thickets close. In which they creeping did at last display Lxxiv. 3. the imageo/ thy dap.'"] Ihe emblem ol thy life. Chuhch. ixxvi. 4. Tlie constant Paprej The resolute, persevering companions. Lat. constans. Church. CANTO XII. 1 THE FAERIE QUEENE. 127 That wanton Lady with her lover lose, Whose sleepie head she in her lap did soft dispose, Lxxvir. Upon 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 silver thin. That hid no whit her alablaster skin. But rather sliewd more white, if more might bee : More subtile web Arachne cannot spin ; Nor the fine nets, which oft we woven see Of scorched deaw, do not in th' ayre more lightly flee. LXXVIII. Her snowy brest was bare to ready spoyle Of hungry eies, which n'ote therewith be fild ; And yet, through languour of her late sweet toyle. Few drops, more cleare then nectar, forth distild. That hke pure orient perles adowne it trild ; And her faire eyes, sweet smyling in delight, Moystened their fierie beames, with which she ■ thrUd Fraile harts, yet quenched not ; hke starry Ught, Which, sparcklin;; on the silent waves, does seeme more bright. Lxxrx. The young man, sleeping by her, seemd to be Some goodly swayne of honorable place ; That certes it great pitty was to see Him his nobility so fowle deface : A sweet regard and amiable gra,ce. Mixed with manly sternesse, did appeare. Yet sleeping, in his well-proportiond face ; And on his tender lips the downy heare Did now but freshly spring, and silken blossoms beaxe. LXXX. His warlike armes, the ydle instruments Of sleeping praise, were hong upon a tr^e ; And his brave shield, full of old mouiments. Was fowly ras't, that none the signes might see ; Ne for them ne for honour cared hee ; Ne ought that did to his advauncement tend ; But in lewd loves, and wastfull luxuree, His dayes, his goods, his bodie he did spend : horrible enchantment, that him so did blend ! LXXXI. 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 only for that same T?he skilful! Palmer formally did frame : So held them under fast ; the whiles the rest Fled all away for feare of fowler shame. The faire Enchauntresse, so unwares opprest, Tryde all her arts and all her sleights thence out to wrest ; LXXXII. And eke her lover strove ; but all in vaine : For that same net so c>Mimngly was wound. That neither guile nor lorce might it distraine. They tooke them both, and both them strongly bound Lxxviir. 9 • the silent waves,] Perhaps by silent waves Spenser means q^iet, not violently moved. Jortin. LXXXI. 4 for that same] That is, for that purpose. Todd. In captive bandes, which there they readie foimd : But her in chaines of adamant he tyde ; For nothing else might keepe her safe and sound : But Verdant (so he hight) he soone untyde. And counsell sage in steed thereof to him applyde. Lxxxllr. But all those pleasaunt bowres, and pallace brave, Guyon broke downe with rigour pittilesse ; Ne ought their goodly workmanship might save Them from the tempest of his wrathfulnesse. But that their blisse he turn'd to balefulnesse ; Their groves he feld ; their gardins did deface ; Their arbers spoyle ; their cabinets suppresse ; Their banket-hcfuses burne ; their buildings race ; And, of the fayrest late, now made the fowlest place. LXXXIV. Then led they her away, and eke that Knight They with them led, both sorrowful! and sad : The way they came, the same retourn'd they Till they arrived where they lately had [right, Charm'd those wild beasts that rag'd with furie Which, now awaking, fierce atthem ganfly, [mad ; As in their Mistresse reskew, whom they lad ; But them the Palmer soone did pacify. Then Guyon askt, what meant those beastes which there did ly. LXXXV. Sayd he ; " These seeming beasts are men in deed. Whom this Enchauntresse hath transformed thus ; Whylome her lovers, which her lustes did feed. Now turned into figures hideous. According to their mindes hke monstruous." " Sad end," quoth he, " of life intemperate. And mourneful meed of ioyes delicious ! But, Palmer, if it mote thee so aggrate. Let them returned be imto their former state." Streightway he with his vertuousstaffe them strooke. And streight of beastes they comely men became ; Yet being men they did unmanly looke. And stared ghastly ; some for inward shame. And some for wrath to see their captive Dame : But one above the rest in speciall That had an hog beene late, hight Grylle by name, Repyned greatly, and did him miscall That had from hoggish forme him brought to naturall. LXXXVII. Saide Guyon ; " See the mind of beastly man. That hath so soone forgot the exceUenee Of his creation, when he life began. That now he chooseth with vile difi'erence To be a beast, and lacke intelligence ! " To whom the Palmer thus ; " The donghill kinds Delightes in filth and fowle incontinence : Let Gryll be GryU, and have his hoggish minde ; But let us hence depart whilest wether serves and winde." [Thus are we come to the end of the second book. The first book which we have already examined, was religious; this treats of the foundation of all moral virtue, Temper- ance. The connection of this book with the former, is visible. Lxxxrii. 7. cabinets] Coiy, the diminutive of rao/n. Todd. LXXXV. 1. .Saj/d he ;] The t ^! lue: . Church. 128 THE FAERIE QUEENE. [BOOK iTi not only from the whole thread of the story, but from lesser instances. See B. i. C. xii. st. 36, where the false prophet is bound, and yet escapes, and is now gone forth to trouble Fairy land, whose destruction will not be accomplished, till the throne of the Fairy queen is established in righte- ousness, and in all moral virtues. '*He {Archimago) must be loosed a little season : He shall be loosed out of prison.'* Compare Revel, xix. 20, xx. 3, withB. i. C. xii. st. 36. And B. ii. C. i. st. 1.— The false prophet and deceiver had almost by his lies work'd the destruction of Sir Guyon and the Redcroese Elnight, B. ii. C. i. st. 8. The Christian Knight was well warned, and well armed against his subtleties. Our moral ICnight is now his chief object ; who is sent upon a high adventure by the Fairy Queen, to bring cap- tive to her court an Enchantress named Acrasia, in whom is imaged sensual pleasure or intemperance. The various adventures which he meets with by the way, are such as show the virtues and happy effects of temperance, or the vices and ill-consequences of intemperance. The opening with the adventure of the bloody-handed babe, unites the beginning and end, and is conceived with great art. How opportunely does Prince Arthur appear, the hero of the poem ! who is eeekiag the Fairy Queen, and by his adventures making himself worthy of that Glory to which he aspires. He preserves the life of Sir Guyon, and afterwards utterly extirpates that mis- created crew of scoundrels, which, with their meagre, me- lancholy Captain, were besieging the Castle of Alma.— Shall I guard the reader against one piece of poor curiosity ? not enviously to pry into kitchens, out-houses, sinks, &c., while he is viewing a palace : nor to look for moles and freckles, while he is viewing a Medicean Venus. I will venture to say, if he finds some things too easy, he will find other things too hard. " Wisdom hath builded her house, she hath hewn out her seven pillars," Prov. ix. I This allegorical house is built with some spoils from the Pythagorean and Socratick writers — Wliilst the Prince ia extirpating the foes of Alma, Sir Guyon sets forward on his quest, and attacks the Enchantress in her own Inland. And here our poet has introduced, keeping in view his general allegory, all those specious miracles, to which Homer, mingling truth with fable, had given a poetiCiU sanction long before ; as of Scylla and Cliarybdis, the songs of the Syrens, floating Islands, men by enchantments and sensuality turned into beasts, &c. which marvellous kind of stories Romance-writers seldom forget. Circe, Alcina, Armida, are all rifled to dress up Acrasia. The characters in this book are the sage Palmer, the sober Guyon, the magnificent Prince Arthur, all well opposed to the cunning Archimago, and furious Sarazins. Braggadochio, and Trompart, are a kind of comick cha- racters. Medina, Alma, and Belphcebe, are quite opposite to Medina's sisters, as likewise to Phsedria and Acrasia. I am thoroughly persuaded myself, that Spenser has many historical allusions, and in this light I often consider his poem, as well as in that moral allegory, which is more obvious. In the last verse of this book, the Palmer says, '* But let us hence depart whilest wether serves and wind," Sir Guyon and the Palmer leave the Island of Acrasia, taking the Enchantress along with them, whom they im- mediately send to the Queen of Fairy land ; they then repair to the house of Alma, and join the Briton Prince. Upton.] THE THIRDE BOOK OF THE FAERIE QUEENE; CONTAVNING THE LEGEND OF BRITOMARTIS, OR OF CHASTITY. It falls me here to write of Chastity, That fayrest yertue, far above the rest : For which what needes me fetch from Faery Forreine ensamples it to have exprest ? Sith it is shrined in my Soveraines brest, And formd so lively in each perfect part, That to all Ladies, which have it profest, Need but behold the pourtraict of her hart ; If pourtrayd it might bee by any Uviiig art : But living art may not least part expresse. Nor life-resembling pencill it can paynt : All were it Zeuxis or Praxiteles, His dsedale hand would faile and greatly faynt, And her perfections with his error taynt : Ne poets witt, that passeth painter farre n. 3. All were W] Although it were, Church. F. 4. His dzedale hand] I>a>dale hand, i. e. ingenious, cunning hand : is-o tou S«iSaAA£i», art{ficiose Jingere, UpTcIT. In picturing the parts of beauty daynt. So hard a workemanship adventure darre. For fear through want of words her excellence to How then shall I, apprentice of the skill That whilome in divineat wits did rayne. Presume so high to stretch mine humble quill ? Yet now my luckelesse lott doth me constrayne Hereto perforce : But, O dredd Soverayne, Thus far forth pardon, sith that choicest witt Cannot your glorious pourtraict figure playne. That I in colourd showes may shadow itt. And Antique praises unto present persons fitt. But if in living colours, and right hew, Thyselfe thou covet to see pictured. n. 7. daynt,] Old French, dain, daintie, fine, 4 a TOOD. UANl'O I.] THE FAERIE Q.UEENE. ]?P Who can it doe more lively, or more trew, Then that sweete verse, with nectar sprinckeled, Tn which a gracious servaunt pictured His Cynthia, his heavens fayrest light ? That with his melting sweetnes ravished, And with the wonders of her beames bright. My sences lulled are in slomber of dehght. But let that same delitious poet lend A little leave unto a rusticke Muse To sing his Mistresse prayse ; and let him mend. If ought amis hev hking may abuse : Ne let his fayrest Cynthia refuse In rairrom's more then one herselfe to see ; But either Gloriana let her chuse. Or in Belphoebe fashioned to bee ; In th' one her rule, in th' other her rare chastitee. CANTO I. Guyon encountreth Britomart; Fayre Florimell is clinced: Due^saes traines and Malecaa- taes champiuns are defaced. The famous Briton Prince and Faery Knight, After long ways and perilous paines endur'd. Having their weary limbes to perfect plight Restord, and sory wounds right well recur'd. Of the fayre Alma greatly were procur'd To make tliere lenger soiourne and abode ; But, when thereto they might not be allur'd From seeking praise and deeds of armes abrode, They courteous conge tooke, and forth together yode. But the captiv'd Acrasia he sent, Because of traveill long, a nigher way, With a strong gard, all reskew to prevent. And her to Faery Court safe to convay ; That her for witnes of his hard assay Unto his Faery Queene he might present : But he himselfe betooke another way. To make more triall of his hardiment. And seek adventures, as he with Prince Arthure went. III. Long so they travelled tlttough wastefull wayes, "Wiiere daungers dwelt, and perils most did wonne. To hunt for glory and renowmed prayse : Fall many countreyes they did overronne. From the uprising to the setting sunne. And many hard adventures did atchieve ; Of all the which they honour ever wonne. Seeking the weake oppressed to relieve, And to recover right for such as wrong did grieve. At last, as through an open plaine they yode, They spide a Knight that towards pricked fayre ; And him beside an aged Squire there rode. IV. 5. In which SiC.2 This gracious servaunt i5 Sir W . Haleigh, our poet'fl truly AonoMred friend, oTlfMoSy imaged and shadowed in this, as well as in the other bouks, under the name of Timias. Upton, III. 2. wonne,] Inhabit, Todd, That seemd to couch under his shield three- square. As if that age badd him that burden spare, And yield it those that stouter could it wield : He, them espying, gan himselfe prepare. And on his arme addresse his goodly shield That bore a lion passant in a golden field. Which seeing good Sir Guyon deare besought The Prince, of grace, to let him ronne that turne. He graunted : then the Faery quiclcly raught His poynant speare, and sharply gan to spume His fomy steed, whose iiery fecte did bnrne The verdant gras as he thereon did tread ; Ne did the other backe his foote returne, But fiercely forward came withouten dread. And bent his dreadful speare against the others head. vr. They beene ymett, and bofli theyr points arriv'd ; But Guyon drove so furious and fell. That seemd both shield and plate it would have Nathelesse it bore his foe notfrom his sell, [riv'd ; But made him stagger, as lie were not well : But Guyon selfe, ere well he was aware. Nigh a speares length behind his cronper fell ; Yet in his fall so well himselfe he bare. That mischievous mischaunce his life and limbs did spare. VII. Great shame and sorrow of that fall he tooke ; For never yet, sith warlike armes he bore And shiveiing speare in bloody field first sliooke. He fownd himselfe dishonored so sore. Ah ! gentlest Knight, that ever armor bore. Let not thee grieve dismounted to have beene. And brought to grownd, that never wast before For not thy fault, but secret powre unseene ; That speare enchaunted was which layd thee oi) the greene ! viri. But weenedst thou what wight thee overthrew, Much greater griefe and shamefuUer regrett For thy hard fortune theis thou wouldst renew, That of a single Damzell thou wert mett On eqiiall plaine, and there so hard besett : Even the famous Britomart it was. Whom straunge adventure did from Britayne fef 1 To seeke her lover (love far sought nlas !) Whose image shee had seene in Venus looking-glas, IX, Full of disdainefuU wrath, he fierce uprose For to revenge that fowle reprochefuU shame. And snatching his bright sword began to close With her on foot, and stoutly forward came ; Dye rather would he then endure th.at same. Which when his Palmer saw, he gan to feare His toward perill, and untoward blame. Which by that new rencounter he should reare ; For Death sate on the point of that enchaunted speare : X. And hasting towards him gan fayre perswade Not to provoke misfortune, nor to weene IX. 8. Which bi/ that new rencounter &c.] Rencounter ia an accidental combat or adventure. Fr. Bencmtre. Todd. liO THE FAERIE QUEENE. [book nt. His speares default to mend -with eruell blade ; For by his mightie science he had seene The secrete vertue of that weapon lieene, That mortal! puissaunce mote not withstond : Nothing on earth mote alwaies happy beene ! Great hazard were it, and adventure fond, o loose long-gotten honom* with one evJll hond. xr. By such good meanes he him diseounselled From prosecuting his revenging rage : And eke the Prince like treaty handeled. His wrathfuU will with reason to aswage ; And laid the blame, not to his carriage, But to his starting steed that swarv'd asyde. And to the ill purveyaunce of his Page, That had his furnitures not firmely tyde : So is his angry corage fayrly pacifyde. Thus reconcilement was betweene them knitt, Through goodly temperaunce and affection chaste ; And either vowd with all their power and witt To let not others honour be defaste Of friend or foe, whoever it embaste, Ne armes to bear 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. xrrr. 0, goodly usage of those antique tymes. In which the sword was servaunt unto right ; When not for malice and contentious crymes. But all for prayse, and proofe of manly might, The martiall brood accustomed to fight : Then honour was the meed of victory. And yet the vanquished had no despight : Let later age that noble use envy, Vyle rancor to avoid and cruel surquedry ! XIV. Long they thus travelled in friendly wise. Through countreyes waste, and eke well edifyde, Seeking adventures hard, to exercise Their puissaunce, whylome full dernly tryde : At length they camo into a forest wyde, Whose hideous horror and sad trembling sownd Full griesly seemd : Therein they long did ryde, Yet tract of living creatm'e none they fownd, Save beares, lyons, and buls, which romed them arownd. XT. All suddenly out of the thickest brush. Upon a milk-white palfrey all alone, A goodly Lady did foreby them rush, Whose face did seeme as cleare as christall stone. And eke, through feare, as white as whales bone ; Her garments all were wrought of beaten gold. And all her steed with tinsell trappings shone. Which fiedd so fast that nothing mote him hold, And searse them leasure gave her passing to behold. Still as she fledd her eye she backward threw. As fearing evill that poursewd her fast ; And her faire yellow locks behind her flew, Loosely disperst with puff of every blast : AU as a blazing starre doth farre outcast His hearie beames, and flaming loekes dispredd, At sight whereof the people stand aghast ; But the sage wisard telles, as he has redd, That it imp6rtunes death and dolefull dreryhedd. So as they gazed after her awhyle, Lo ! where a griesly foster forth did rush. Breathing out beastly lust her to defyle : His tyrehng-jade he fiersly forth did push Through thicke and thin, both o ver banck and bush, In hope her to attaine by hooke or crooke, That from his gory sydes the blood did gush : Large were his limbes, and terrible his looke. And in his clownish hand a sharp bore-speare ha shooke. xviir. Which outrage when those gentle Knights did see, Full of great envy and fell gealosy They stayd not to avise who first should bee, But all spurd after, fast as they mote fly, To reskew her from shamefuU villany. The Prince and Guyon equally byhve Herselfe pursewd, in hope to win thereby Most goodly meede, the fairest Dame alive : But after the foule foster Timias did strive. The whiles faire Britomart, whose constant mind Would not so hghtly follow Beauties chace, Ne reckt of Ladies love, did stay behynd ; And them awayted there a certaine space. To weet if they would turne backe to that place ; But, when she saw them gone, she forward went. As lay her iourney, through that perlous pace. With stedfast corage and stout hardiment ; Ne evil thing she feard, ne eviL thing she ment. At last, as nigh out of the wood she came, A stately Castle far away she spyde. To which her steps directly she did frame. That Castle was most goodly edifyde. And plaste for pleasure nigh that forrest syde : But faire before the gate a spatious playne. Mantled with greene, itselfe did spredden wyde, On which she saw six Knights, that did darrayne Fiers battaill against one with eruell might and mayne. XXI. Mainely they all attonce upon him laid. And sore beset on every side arownd. That nigh he breathlesse grew, yet nought dismaid, Ne ever to them yielded foot of grownd. All had he lost much blood through many a wownd ; But stoutly dealt his blowes, and every way. To which he turned in his wrathfull stownd. Made them recoile, and fly from dredd decay. That none of all the six before him durst assay : xm. 8. envy.] Vie with. Yt. envier. Church. XIV. 2. well edifyde,] Well tuilt. Todd. XIV. 4. dernly] Dernly perhaps is here used in the sense of dearly, i. e. earnestly, Todd. XVII. 2. foster] Forester. Todd. XVIII. 9. . Timias'] Prince Arthur's Squire. Todd. XX. 9. ■ against one] The Redcrosse Knight. Todd. XXI. 5. A.II] Although. Church. XXI. 9. before him durst assay .•] Durst attacli him be/ore, i. e. face to face. Chukoh OA^'TO I.] THE FAERIE QUEENE. 131 Like dastard eurres, that, having at a bay The salva,ge beast embost in wearie chace. Dare not adventure on the stubborne pray, Ne byte before, but rome from place to place To get a snatch when turned is his face. In such distresse and doubtfull ieopardy When Britomart him saw, she ran apace Unto his reskew, and with earnest cry Badd those same sixe forbeare that single enimy. But to her cry they list not lendeu eare, Ne ought the more their mightie strokes surceasse ; But, gathering him rownd about more neare. Their direfuli rancour rather did encreasse ; Till that she rushing through the thickest preasse Perforce disparted their compacted gyre. And soone compeld to hearken unto peace : Tho gan she myldly of them to inquyre The cause of theii- dissention and outrageous yre. Whereto that single Kuight did answere frame ; " These six would me enforce, by oddes of might. To chaunge my liefe, and love another dame ; That death me liefer were then such despight. So unto wrong to yield my wrested right : For I love one, the truest one on grownd, Ne list me chaunge ; she th' Errant Damzell bight ; For whose deare sake full many a bitter stownd I have endurd, and tasted many a bloody wo^vnd." " Certes," said she, " then beene ye sixe to blame, To weene your wrong by force to iustify : For Knight to leave his Lady were great shame That faithfull is ; and better were to dy. All losse is lesse, and lesse the infamy, Then losse of love to him that loves but one : Ne may Love be compeld by maistery ; For, soone as maistery comes, sweete Love anone Taketh his nimble winges, and soone away is gone." Then spake one of those six ; " There dwelleth here Within this castle-wall a Lady fayre. Whose soveraine beautie hath no living pere ; Thereto so bounteous and so debonayre. That never any mote with her compayre : She hath ordaind this law, which we approve. That every Knight which doth this way repayi-e. In case he have no Lady nor no Love, Shall doe unto her service, never to remove : " But if he have a Lady or a Love, Then must he her forgoe with fowle defame. Or els with us by dint of sword approve. That she is fairer then our fairest Dame ; As did this Knight, befoi-e ye hether came." " Perdy," said Britomart, " the choise is hard ! But what reward had he that overcame ? " XXII. 2. ■ embost] A deer is said to te imbossed, when 8he is so hard pursued that she foams at themouth. Church. xxiii. 6. ■ gyreO Circle- Ital. cjiro. Todd. XXIV. 7. she th' Errant Damzell liight,'] So he calls TTna. The Knight thus assaulted is the Redcrosse Knight, V. George. Uprow. " He should advaunced bee to high regard," Said they, " and have our Ladies love for his reward. xxvm. " Therefore aread. Sir, if thou have a Love." " Love have I sure," quoth she, "but Lady none ; Yet will I not fro mine owne Love remove, Ne to your Lady will I service done. But wreake your wronges wrought to this Knight alone, [speare And prove his cause." With that, her mortal! She mightily aventred towards one. And downe him smot ere well aware he weare ; And to the next she rode, and downe the next did beare. Ne did she stay till three on ground she layd, That none of them himselfe could reare againe : The fourth was by that other Knight dismayd. All were he wearie of his former paine ; That now there do but two of six remaine ; Which two did yield before she did them smight. "Ah ! " said she then, "now may ye all see plaine. That Truth is strong, and trew Love most of might, That for his trusty servaunta doth so strongly fight." " Too well we see," saide they, '^ and prove too well Our faulty weakenes, and your matchlesse might : Forthy, {'aire Sir, youi'S be the Damozell, Which by her owne law to your lot doth light. And we your Uegemen faith unto you plight." So underneath her feet their swords they raard, And, after, her besought, well as they might. To enter in and reape the dew reward : She graunted ; and then in they all together far'd. Long were it to describe the goodly frame. And stately port of Castle Joyeous, ' (For BO that Castle hight by common name,) Where they were entertaynd with courteous And comely glee of many gratious Faire Ladies, and of many a gentle Knight ; Who, through a chamber long and spacious, Eftsoones them brought unto their Ladies sight. That of them cleeped was the Lady of DeUght. xxxir. But, for to tell the sumptuous aray Of that great chamber, should be labour lost ; For living wit, I weene, cannot display The roiall riches and exceeding cost Of every pillour and of every post. Which all of purest bullion framed were. And with great perles and pretious stones embost ; That the bright ghster of their beames cleare Did sparckle forth great light, and glorious did appeare. xxxni. These stranger Knights, through passing, forth were Into an inner rowme, whose royaltee [led And rich purveyance might uneath be red ; Mote Princes place beseeme so deckt to bee. xxviil. 4. Ne to your Lady will I service done,] I>0. Anglo Sax. Son, to do. Uiton. xxvm. 7. aventretl] Pushed at a venture. TnoD. XXX. 6. mard,] Thrcic down. Lat. pessundare, to throw imder foot. Chuiich. h. 2 J32 THE FAERIE QUEENE. [book hi. W hich stately manner whenas they did see, Tlie image of superfluous riotize. Exceeding much the state of meane degree, I'hey greatly wondred whence so sumptuous guize Alight be maintaynd, and each gan diversely devize. , XXTCIV. Tie wals were round about apparelled A\' ith costly clothes of Arras and of Toure ; 111 wliich with cunning hand was pourtrahed The love of Venus and her paramoure, The fayre Adonis, turned to a flowre ; A worke of rare device and wondrous wit. First did it shew the bitter balefull stowre. Which her assayd with many a fervent fit. When first her tender hart was with his beautie smit : Then with what sleights and sweet allurements she Entyst the boy, as well that art she knew. And wooed hira her paramoure to bee ; Now making girlonds of each flowre that grew. To cro^vne his golden lockes with honour dew ; Now leading him into a secret shade Frnmhis beauperes, and from bright heavens vew. Where him to sleepe she gently would perswade, Or bathe him in a fountaine by some covert glade : And, whilst he slept, she over him would spred Her mantle colour'd like the starry skyes, And her soft arme lay underneath his hed. And with ambrosiall kisses bathe his eyes ; And, whilst he bath'd, with her two crafty spyes ' She secretly would search each daintie lim, And throw into the well sweet rosemaryes. And fragrant violets, and paunces trim ; And ever with sweet nectar she did sprinkle him. xxxvrr. So did she steale his heedelesse hart away, And ioyd his love in secret unespyde : Bu t fpr she saw him bent to cruell play. To hunt the salvage beast in forrest wyde, DreadfuU of daunger that mote him betyde She oft and oft adviz'd him to refraine From chase of greater beastes, whose brutish pryde Mote breede him scath unwares : but all in vaine ; For who can shun the chance that dest'ny doth ordaine ? XXXVIFT. ,0 ! where beyond he lyeth languishing, Deadly engored of a great wilde bore ; And by his side the goddesse groveUng Makes for him endlesse mone, and evermore With her soft garment wipes away the gore Which staynes his snowy sldn with hatefull hew : But, when she saw no helpe might him restore. xxxrv. 3. tcith cunning hand] With skil/ul hand. Todd. XXXV. 7 heauperes,] Fair companions, from beatt and pair, a peer, equal. Upton. XXXVI. a. with her two crafty spyes] Crafty sjiyeg IS here a periphrasis for eyes, hut a very inartificial one ; as it may so easily be mistaken for two persons whom she employed, with herself, to search &o. T. Wakton. XXXVII. 3. But for] But fiecause. Todd. xxxvra. I. Lo! wAcre beyond] Beyond, that ia, at some listance. Upton. Him to a dainty flowre she did transmew. Which in that cloth was wrought, as if it Uvely grew. xxxix. So was that chamber clad in goodly wize : And rownd about it ^ many beds were dight. As whylome was the antique worldes guize. Some for untimely ease, some for delight. As pleased them to use that use it might : And all was full of Damzels and of Squyi'es, Dauncing and reveling both day and night. And swimming deepe in sensuall desyres ; And Cupid still emongest them kindled lustfullfyres. And all the while sweet Musicke did divide Her looser notes with Lydian harmony ; And all the while sweete birdes thereto appliile Their daintie layes and dulcet melody, Ay caroling of love and ioUity, That wonder was to heare their trim cons6rt. Which when those linights beheld, with scornc- fuU eye They sdeigned such lascivious disport, And loath'd the loose demeanure of that wanton sort. XLI. 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, saving that askaunce Her wanton eyes (ill signes of womanhed) Did roll too lightly, and too often glaimce. Without regard of grace or comely amenaunco. Long worke it were, and needlesse to devize Then' goodly entertainement and great glee : She caused them be led in courteous wize Into a bowre, disarmed for to be. And cheared well with wine and spiceree : The Redcrosse Knight was soon disarmed there ; But the brave Mayd would not disarmed bee, - But onely vented up her umbriere. And so did let her goodly visage to appere. As when fayre Cynthia, in darkesome night, Is in a noyous cloud enveloped, Where she may finde the substance thin and light, Breakes forth her silver beames, and her bright Discovers to the world discomfited ; [hed Of the poore traveller that went astray With thousand blessings she is heried : Such was the beautie and the shining ray. With which fayre Britomart gave hght unto the day. xuv. And eke those six, which lately with her fought, Now were disarmd, and did themselves present Unto her vew, and company unsought ; For they all seemed courteous and gent. XL. 9. • sort.] Company. Todd. XLI!. 8. But onely vented up her umhrigre,] Vented up, 1. e. she gave vent to, or lifted up, the visor of her helmet ; tcore her beaver up, as Shakspeare expresses it in Hamlet 'Tis called umbriere from ombrare, because it shadows the face. Upton. Canto i.] THE FAERIE QUEENE. 133 Aiid all sixe brethren, borne of one parent. Which' had them traynd in all oiviUtee, And goodly taught to tilt and turnament ; Now were they hegmen to this Ladie free, And her Knights service ought, to hold of her in fee. XLV. The first of them by name Gardante liight, A iolly person, and of comely vew ; The second was Parlante, a bold Knight ; And next to him locante did ensew ; Basciante did himselfe most courteous shew ; But fierce Bacchante seemd too fell and keene ; And yett in armes Noctante greater grew : All were faire Knights, and goodly well be- seene ; [beene. But to faire Britomart they all but shadowes XLVI. For shee was fuU of amiable grace And manly terror mixvd therewithal! ; Tliat as the one stird up affections bace. So th' other did mens rash desires apall. And hold them backe that would in error fall : As he that hath espide a verraeill rose. To wliich sharp thomes and breres the way forstaU, Dare not for dread his hardy hand expose. But, wishing it far off, his ydle wish doth lose. Whom when the Lady saw so faire a wight. All ignorant of her contrary sex, (For shee her weend a fresh and lusty Knight,) Shee greatly gan enamoured to wex, And with vaiue thoughts her falsed fancy vex : Her fickle hart conceived hasty fyre. Like sparkes of fire which fallin sclender flex. That shortly brent into extreme desyre. And ransackt all her veines with passion entyre. XLVIU. Eftsoones shee grew to great impatieuce. And into termes of open outrage brust. That plaine discovered her incontinence ; Ne reckt shee who her meamng did mistrust ; For she was given all to fleshly lust. And poured forth in sensual! delight. That aU regard of shame she had discust, And meet respect of honor put to flight ; So shamelesse beauty soone becomes a loathly sight. Faire Ladies, that to love captived arre. And chaste desires doe nourish in your mind. Let not her fault your sweete affections marre ; Ne blott the bounty of all womankind [find : 'Mongst thousands good, one wanton dame to Emongst the roses grow some wicked weeds : For this was not to love, but lust, iuclind ; Forlove does alwaiesbringforth bounteous deeds. And in each gentle hart desire of honor breeds. xiiiv. 8. ■ Ladie free,] The terra free is equal to our phrase of genteel, of free or easy carriage. Todd. XLIV. 9. ouglit,] Owed iier. Ckubch. xLVii. 9. — — tviih passion entyre.] Tiiat is, inward heat, " in-burning fire," st. fi3. Church. xLviii. 7. discuat,] Shaken off. hat. discutere. Ital. discoBlare, to remove or put away. Upton. xLix. 4. iftehownty] Goodness. Fr. bont^. Church. Nought so of love this looser Dame did skill. But as a cole to kindle fleshly flame, Giving the bridle to her wanton will. And treadmg under foote her honest name : Sucli love is hate, and such desire is shame. StiU did she rove at her with crafty glaunce Of her false eies, that at her hart did ayme. And told her meaning in her countenaunce j But Britomart dissembled it with ignoraunce. Supper was shortly dight, and downe they satt ; Where they were served with all sumptuous fare, Whiles fruitful! Ceres and Lyteus fatt Pourd out tlieir plenty, without spight or spare ; Nought wanted there that dainty was and rare: And aye the cups their bancks did overflow ; And aye betweene the cups she did prepare Way to her love, and secret darts did throw ; But Britomart would not such guilful! message Imow. Lir. So, when they slaked had the fervent heat Of appetite with meates of every sort. The Lady did fau'e Britomart entreat Her to disarme, and with delightfull sport To loose her warhke hmbs and strong effort: But wlien shee mote not thereunto be wonne, (For shee her sexe under that straunge purpdrt Did use to hide, and plaine apparaunce shonne,) In playner wise to tell her grievaunce she begomie ; And all attonee discovered her desire [griefe, With sighes, and sobs, and plaints, and piteous The outward sparkes of her in-bui'ning fire : Which spent in vaine, at last she told her briefe, That, but if she did lend her short reliefe And doe her comfort, she mote algates dye. But the chaste Damzell, that had never priefe Of such malengine and fine forgerye, Did easely beleeve her strong extremitye. Full easy was for her to have beliefe. Who by self-feehng of her feeble sexe, And by long trial! of the inward griefe Wherewith imperious love her hart did vexe, Could iudge what paines doe loving harts perplexe. Who means no guile, be gulled soonest shall. And to faire semblaimce doth light faith annexe: The bird, that knowes not the false fowlers call. Into his liidden nett full easely doth fall. Forthy she would not in discourteise wise Scorne the faire offer of good will profest ; L. 9. But Britomart &c.] That is, Britomart seemed as though she understood her not. Church. Lii. 5. To loose her warlike limbs and strong effdrt:'} That is, to let loose, or to unloose, her warlike limbs, and to lay aside her sternness, force or effort, to loose her effort, to relax a little. The same verb, with some dilTerence of signification, is applied to two different substantives. Upton. Lm. 6. but if] Unless. Church. LIU. S. Of such malengine] eiiile. Todd. LV. 1. Forthy she would not in discourteise wise] Thai is, disccvrtcously. Upton 134 THE FAERIE QUEENE. [book III. For great rebuke it is love to despise, Or rudely sdeigne a gentle harts request ; But with faire countenaunce, as beseemed best, Her entertaynd ; nath'lesse shee inly deemd Her love too hght, to wooe a wandring guest ; Which she misconstruing, thereby esteemd That from like inward fire that outward smoke had steemd. LVI. Therewith awhile she her flit fancy fedd. Till she mote winne fit time for her desire ; But yet her wound still inward freshly bledd. And through her bones the false instUled fii-e Did spred itselfe, and venime close iaspu'e. Tho were the tables taken all away ; And every Knight, and every gentle Squire, Gan choose his Dame with basciomani gay. With whom he ment to make his sport and courtly play. LVIf. Some fell to daunce ; some fell to hazardry ; Some to make love ; some to make meryment ; As diverse witts to diverse things apply : And all the while faire Malecasta bent Her crafty engins to her close intent. By this th' eternall lampes, wherewith high love Doth light the lower world, were halfe yspent. And the moist daughters of huge Atlas strove Into the ocean deepe to drive their weary drove. Lvin. High time it seemed then for everie wight Them to betake unto their kindly rest : Eftesoones long waxen torches weren hght Unto their bowres to guyden every guest : Tho, when the Britonesse saw all the rest Avoide^d quite, she gan herselfe despoile, And safe committ to her soft fethered nest^ Wher through long watch, and late daies weary toile, She soundly slept, and carefull thoughts did quite assoile. LIX. Now whenas all the world in silence deepe Yshrowded was, and every mortall wight Was drowned in the depth of deadly sleepe ; Faire Malecasta, whose cngrieved spright Could find no rest in such perplexed plight, Lightly arose out of her wearie bed. And, under the blacke vele of guilty night. Her with a scarlott mantle covered That was with gold and ermines faire enveloped. LX. Then panting softe, and trembhng every ioynt. Her fearfull feete towards the bowre she mov'd. Lv. 8. TFftzc/t] Tbat is, which afifable behaviour. Church, LVI. 8 basciomani] With basciomani, Ital. With kissing her hands : a plirase, perhaps common in our autlior's age, when Italian manners were universally affected. T. Warton. Lvil. 1. to hazardry ;] In F. Q^ ii. v. 13, thiswocd signifies rasAjiew. Here itTaeans ptaping at hazard. Todd. Lvrr 8. And the moist daughters &e.] The Hyades, a constellationof seven stars in the head of the Bull. Church. Lvrii. 4. Unto their bowres] Chambers. Todd. Lvu/. 9 assoile.] Did piU off, or was /i-eed from. Todd. LX< 1. Then panting softe,] Breathing sttflly. Chukch Where she for secret purpose did appoynt To lodge the warhke Maide, unwisely loov'd ; And, to her bed approclmig, first she proov'd Whether she slept or wakte : with hersofte hand She softely felt if any member raoov'd. And lent her wary eare to understand If any puSe of breath or signe of sence shee fond. Which whenas none she fond, with easy shifte. For feare least her unwares she should abrayd, Th' embroder'd quilt she hghtly up did lifte, And by her side herselfe she softly layd. Of every finest fingers touch afirayd ; Ne any noise she made, ne word she spake. But inly sighd. At last the royall Mayd Out of her quiet slomber did awake. And chaungd her weary side the better ease to take. Where feeling one close couched by her side. She hghtly lept out of her filed bedd. And to her weapon ran, in minde to gride The loathed leachour : but the Dame, halfe dedd Through suddeine feare and ghastly drerihedd Did shrieke alowd, that through the hous it rong, And the whole family therewith adredd Rashly out of their rouzed couches sprong. And to the troubled chamber all in armes did throng. Lxin. And those sixe Knightes, that Ladies champions. And eke the Redcrosse Knight ran to the stownd, Halfe armd and halfe unarmd, with them attona : Where when confusedly they came, they fownd Their Lady lying on the sencelesse grownd : On th' other side they saw the warUke Mayd Al in her snow-white smocke,witli locks unbownd, Threatning the poitrt of her avenging blade ; That with so troublous terror they were all dia- mayd. Lxtv. About their Ladye first they flockt arownd ; Whom having laid in comfortable couch, Shortly they reard out of her frosen swownd ; And afterwardes they gan with fowle reprooh To stu-re up strife, and troublous conteckebroch : But, by ensample of the last dayes losse. None of them rashly durst to her approch, Ne in so glorious spoile themselves embosse : Her succourd eke the Champion of the Bloody Crosse. LXV. But one of those sixe knights, Gardantb 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, Lx. 8. her wary eare] Her cautious and attentive ear. Todd. Lxi. 2. abrayd.] Awalte. Todd, Lxrr. 2. . out of her filed &edd,] Out of her dejiUi bed. Todd. Lxii. 3. to gride] To pierce. Todd. Lxn, 8, Rashly] /neon^ideraie/j/, not knowing why or wherefore. Church, LXfv. ,'■>,, cnntecke] Contest. T. Waiiton, LAiv, 8, embobhe ;] Adorn. ToDi>. CANTO II.] THE FAEEIE QUEENE. 135 But lightly rased her soft silken skin, That drops of purple blood thereout did weepe, Which did her hlly smock with staines of vermeil steep. IXVI. 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 every where, about her swayd Her wratlifuU Steele, that none mote it abyde ; And eke the Redcrosse Knight gave her goodayd. Ay ioyning foot to foot, and syde to syde ; That in short space their foes they have quite ter- rifyde. Tho, whenas all were put to shamefull flight, The noble Britomai'tis her arayd. And her bright armes about her body dight : For nothing would she longer there be stayd. Where so loose life, and so ungentle trade. Was usd of Knightes and Ladies seeming gent : So, earely, ere the grosse earthes gryesy shade Was all disperst out of the firmament. They tooke their steeds, and forth upon their iour- ney went. CANTO n. The Redcrosse Knight to Britomatt Descrihetb Arte;;all: The woiidrous Myrrhour, by which Bhe la love with him did fall. Here have I cause in men iust blame to find. That in their proper praise too partiall bee. And not indifferent to woman kind, To whom no share in armes arid chevalree They doe impart., ne maken memoree Of their brave gestes and prowesse martiall : Scarse do they spare to one, or two, or three, Rowme in their writtes ; yet the same writing small Does all their deedes deface, and dims their glories al. ir. But by recdrd of antique times I finde That women wont in warres to beare most sway. And to all great exploites themselves inclin'd. Of which they still the girlond bore away ; Till envious men, fearing their rules decay, Gan coyne streight lawes to curb their liberty : Yet, sith they warlike armes have laide away. They have exceld in artes and pollicy, That now we foolish men that prayse gin eke t'envy. Of warlike puissaunce in ages spent. Be thou, faire Britomart, whose prayse I wryte ; But of all wisedom bee thou precedent, so veraine Q,ueene, whose prayse I would endy te, Endite I would as dewtie doth excyte ; But ah ! my rymes too rude and rugged arre. When in so high an obiect they doe lyte. And, striving fit to make, I feare, doe marre ; Thyselfe thy prayses tell, and make them knowen farre. IV. tjhe, travelling with Guyon, by the way Of sondry thinges faire purpose gan to find, T'abridg their iourney long and lingring day : Mongst which it fell into that Fairies mind To aske this Briton Maid, what uncouth wind Brought her into those partes, and what inquest Made her dissemble her disguised kind : Faire Lady she him seemd lilie Lady drest, But fairest Knight alive when armed was her brest. Thereat she sighing softly had no powre To speake awhile, ne ready answere muke ; But with hai't-thriUing throbs and bitter stowre, As if she had a fever fitt, did quake. And every daintie hmbe with horrour shake ; And ever and anone the rosy red Flasht through her face, as it had beene a flake Of ligh tnin g tlirough bright heven fulmined : At last, the passion past, she thus him answered : " Faire Sir, I let you weete, that from the howre I taken was from nourses tender pap, I have been trained up in warlike sto^vre. To tossen speare and shield, and to afirap The warhke ryder to his most mishap ; Sithence I loathed have my life to lead. As Ladies wont, in Pleasures wanton lap, To finger the fine needle and nyce thread ; Me lever were with point of foemans speare be dead. " All my dehght on deedes of armes is sett. To hunt out perilles and adventures hard, By sea, by land, whereso they may be mett, Onely for honour and for high regard. Without respect of richesse or reward : For such intent into these partes I came, Withouten compasse or withouten card. Far fro my native soyle, that is by name The Greater Brytayne, here to seeke for praise and fame. viir. " Fan e blazed hath, that here ui Faery Lend Doe many famous Knightes and Ladies wonne. And many straunge adventures to bee fond. Of which great worth and worship may be wonne : Which to prove, I this voyage have begonnO. But mote I weet of you, right com-teous Knight, Tydings of one that hath unto me donne - indifferent] Impartial. Todd. IV. 6. and what inquest Made her dissemble her disguised kind :] And what quest or adventure, which she now was in pursuit of, made her dissemble her hind, nature or sex. TJiton. Ti. 4. affrap] Slrihe down. Ital. affrapare. Fr. /rapper. Upton. vc. 9. Me lever uierc] I had rather, or it would be more agreeable to me. Todd. 'vii. 9. The Greater Brytayne,-] To distinguish it from the Lesser lirittany in France. Chukch. viii. -i wonne,] Dwell. The same word rhymes to wonne. i. e. acquired, (as here,) in the preceding canto, St 3. Words, thus spelt alike, but of diiferent signihca- tion, are frequently employed as rhymes lo each other in italiati and also in old English poetry. Todd. 156 THE FAERIE QUEENE. [book III. Late foule dishonour and reproclifull spight, The which I seelie to wreake, and Arthegall he higbt." rx. The worde gone out she backe againe would call, As her repenting so to have missayd. But that he, it uptaking ere the fall, Her shortly answered ; " Faire martiall Mayd, Certes ye rnisavised beene t' upbrayd A gentle Knight with so unknightly blame : For, weet ye well, of all that ever playd At tilt or tourney, or like warlike game, The noble Arthegall hath ever borne the name. *' Forthy great wonder were it, if such shame Should ever enter in his bounteous thought. Or ever doe that mote deserven blame : The noble corage never weeneth ought That may unworthy of itselfe be thought. Therefore, faire Damzell, be ye well aware, Least that too farre ye have your sorrow sought : You and your Countrey both I wish welfare, And honour both ; for each of other worthy are." The royall Maid woxe inly wondrous glad. To heare her Love so highly magnifyde ; And ioyd that ever she affixed had Her hart on Knight so goodly glorifyde. However finely she it faind to hyde. The loving mother, that nine monethes did beare In the deare closett of her painefuU syde Her tender babe, it seeing safe appears, Doth not so much reioyce as she reioyced theare. But to occasion him to further talke, To feed her humor with his pleasing style. Her list in stryfull termes with him to balke. And thus replyde ; " However, Sir, ye fyle Your courteous tongue his prayses to compyle. It ill beseemes a Knight of gentle sort, Such as ye have him boasted, to beguyle A simple Maide, and worke so hainous tort. In shame of Knighthood, as I largely can report. ' Let bee therefore my vengeaunce to disswade. And read, where I that Faytour false may find." " Ah ! but if reason faire might you perswade To slake your wrath, and moUify your mind," A. 4. The noble corage never weeneth ought That map unworthy of itsel/e he thought."] Tlie noble mind never entertains a thought unworthy of itself. Corage is used for heart or mind, often by our poet, as well as by Chaucer. Upton. xir. 3. Her lisf] She was pleased. Church, Ibid ' in stryfull termes Aec] This is Spenser's manner of spelling strife-full. The word has oecurred before. Tono. Ibid. — ■ in stryfull termes with him to balke,] To deal with him in cross purposes, or to baffle him. Todd, xn. 4. ' ye fyle &c,] See the note onjile his tongue. F. Q,. I. i. 35. Upton. Kin. 1. Let bee therefore 4zc.] Xe( hee, let alone, omit. Upton. xnr. 2. that Faytour false mayfrid."] " Faitaur, a lazy, idle fellow. Faitard, faiteor, un paresseux, piger. Lacombe." Todd. Said he, '' perhaps ye should it better find : For bardie thing it is, to weene by might That man tu hard conditions to bind ; Or ever hope to match in equall fight, Whose prowesse paragone saw never living wight, XIV. " Ne soothlich is it eapic for to read Where now on earth, or how, be may be fownd ; For he ne wonneth in one certeine scead, But restlesse walketh all the world arownd, Ay doing thinges that to his fame redownd, Defending Ladies cause and Orphans right, Whereso he heares that any doth confownd Them comfortlesse through tyranny or might ; So is his soveraine honour raisde to hevens hight.'* His feeling wordes her feeble sence much pleased. And softly sunck into her molten hart : Hart, that is uily hurt, is greatly eased With hope of thing that may allegge his smart ; For pleasing wordes are like to magick art, That doth the charmed snake in sloniber lay : Such secrete ease felt gentle Britoniiu't, Yet list the same elforce with faind gainesay ; (So dischord ofte in musick makes the sweeter lay ;) XVI. And sayd ; " Sir Knight, these ydle termes for- And, sith it is uneath to find his haunt, [beare ; Tell me some markes by which he may appeare. If chaunce I him encounter paravaunt ; For perdy one shall other slay, or daunt : What shape, what shield, what armes, what steed, what stedd, ' And whatso else his person most may vaunt ? '* All which the Redcrosse Knight to point ared, And him in everie part before her fashioned. XVIt. Yet him in everie part before she knew. However list her now her knowledge fayne, Sith him whylome in Britayne she did vew. To her revealed in a Mirrhour playne ; Whereof did gi'ow her first engrafted payne. Whose root and stalke so bitter yet did taste, That, but the fruit more sweetnes did contayne, Her wretched dayes in dolour she mote waste, And yield the pray of love to lothsome death at last. xviir. By straunge occasion she did him behold, And much more straungely gan to love his sight, As it in bookes hath "written beene of old. In Deheubarth, that now South-Wales is hightj What time king Kyence raign'd and dealed right, The great Magitien Merlin had deviz'd, By his deepe science and hell-dreaded might, A Looking-glasse, right wondrously aguiz'd, Whose vertues through the wyde worlde soone were solenmiz'd. It vertue had to shew in perfect sight Whatever thing was in the world contaynd, XIV. 1. soothlich] Soothly, truly. Anglo-Sax. fo^lice. Upton. XV. 4. allegge] Ease, alleviate. Fr. all^gcr. Church. XVI 4. p.irnvaunt ;] Pernduenture. Toi>d CANTO II.] THE FAERIE QUEENE. 137 Betwixt the lowest earth and heyens hight. So that it to the looker appertaynd : Whatever foe had wrought, or frend had faynd, Therein discovered was, ne ought mote pas, Ne ought in secret from the same remaynd ; Forthy it round and hollow shaped was. Like to the world itselfe, and seemd a World of Glas. XX. Who wonders not, that reades so wonderous worke ? But who does wonder, that has red the Towre Wherem th' Aegyptian Phao long did lurke From all mens vew, tliat none might her discoure. Yet she might all men vew out of her bowre i Great Ptolomsee it for his Lemans sake Ybuilded all of glasse, by magicke powre, And also it impregnable did make ; Yet, when his Love was false, he with a peaze it brake. XXI. Such was the glassy Globe that Merlin made. And gave unto king Ryeuce for his gard. That never foes his kingdome might invade, 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 convince : Happy this reahne, had it remayned ever since ! XXII. One day it fortuned fayre Britoraart Into her fathers closet to repayre ; For nothing he from her reserv'd apart. Being his onely daughter and his hayre ; Where when she had espyde that Mirrhour fayre, Herselfe awhile therein she vewd in vaine : Tho, her avizing of the vertues rare Which thereof spoken were, she gan agaiue Her to bethinke of that mote to herselfe pertaine. But as it falleth, in the gentlest hartsi Imperious Love 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 u e to done) Whom fortune for her husband would allot ; Not that she lusted after any one, For she was pure from blame of sinfull blott ; Yet wist her life at last must lincke in that same knot. Eftsoones there was presented to her eye A comely Knight, all arm'd in complete wize, XX. 9. wilh a peaze it brake-'] That is, he brake it with a violent blow, with a stamp, with the weight of his stroke ; for so we may interpret peaze from the Spanisli pesa. Todd. XXI. 8. and foes convince :] Convict bis foes, according to Mr. Church ; overthrottj them, according tn Mr. Upton ; who adds, that Shakspeare uses convince in this sense very often. The Latin word convince admits both interpretations. Todd. xxri. 6. in vaine ;] That is, As she thought of nothing in particular, nothing was represented to her hut her own person. Church. xxu. 7. — her avizing"] Bethinking herB?lf. Fr. s'aviser. Church. XXIII. 4. buxome] Yielding, or obedient. Todd. Through whose bright ventayle lifted up on hye His manly face, that did his foes agi-ize And frends to termes of gentle tiiice entize, Lookt foorth, as Phoebus face out of tlie east Betwixt two shady mountaynes doth arize : Portly his person was, and much increast Through his heroicke gi'ace and honorable gest. His crest was covered with a couchant hownd. And all his armour seemd of antique mould. But wondrous massy and assured sownd. And round about yfretted all with gold. In which there written was, with cyphers old, Achillas armes which Arthegall did loin: And on his shield enveloped sevenfold He bore a crowned httle ermihn. That deckt the azure field with her fayre pouldi-ed skin. XXVI. The Damzell well did vew his personage. And Uked well ; ne further fastned not. But went her way ; ne her unguilty age Did weene, imwares, that her unlucky lot Lay hidden in the bottome of the pot : Of hurt miwist most daunger doth redound : But the false arclier, which that arrow shot So slyly that she did not feele the wound, Did smyle full smoothly at her weetlesse wofuU stound. Thenceforth the fether in her lofty crest, Buffed of Love, gan lowly to availe ; And her prowd portaunce and her princely gest. With which she earst try umphed, now did quaile : Sad, solemne, sowre, and full of fancies fraile. She woxe ; yet wist she nether how, nor why ; She wist not, silly Mayd, Avhat she did aile. Yet wist she was not well at ease perdy ; Yet thought it was not love, but some mehincholy. XXVIII. So soone as Night had with her pallid hew Defaste the beautie of the shyning skye, And refte from men the worldes desired vew. She with her nourse adowne to sleepe did lye ; But sleepe full far away from her did fly : Instead thereof sad sighes and sorrowes deepe Kept watch and ward about her warily ; That nought she did but wayle, and often st?epe Her dainty couch with teares which closely she did weepe. And if that any drop of slombring rest Did chaunce to still into her weary spright. When feeble nature felt herselfe opprest, [sight Streightway with dreames, and with fantastick XXV. 9. with her fayre pouldred skin.] That is, with her skin spotted, or variegated. T. "Warton. XXVI. 6 0/7iHr( unwist &c.] Vnwist, unknown. That is. Most danger arises from the hurts we know not of. Church. XXVII. 2. Ruffed of Love, gan lowly to availe ;] Rjifed, i. e. rufBed, disordered. Availe is to sink. Fr. avaler. Church. xxvm. 9. with teares which closefy &c.'] That is, she wept silently that her nurse might not perceive it. I.'HURCH. .3S THE FAERIE QUEENE. [book hi. Of dreadfull things, the same was put to flight ; That oft out of her bed she did astart, As one with vew of ghastly feends affright : Tho gan she to renew her former smart, And thinke of that fayre visage written in her hart. One night, when she was tost with such unrest, Her aged nourse, whose name was Glauce hight, Feehng 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 uncouth fit," sayd she, " what evill plight Hath thee opprest, and with sad drearyhead Chaunged thy lively cheare, and hving made thee dead 3 " For not of nought these suddein ghastly feares All night afflict thy naturall repose ; And all the day, whenas thine equall peares Their fit disports witli faire delight doe chose, Thou in didl corners doest thyselfe inclose ; Ne tastest princes pleasures, ne doest spred Abroad thy fresh youths fayrest flowre, but lose Both leafe and fruite, both too untimely shed. As one in wilfuU bale for ever buried. " The time that mortall men their weary cares Do lay away, and all wilde beastes do rest. And every river eke his course forbeares, Then doth this wicked evill thee infest. And rive with thousand tlirobs thy thrilled brest : Like an huge Aetu' of deepe engulfed gryefe, Son-ow is heaped in thy hollow chest, [ryfe. Whence foorth it breakes in sighes and anguish As smoke and sulphure mingled with confused stryfe. xxxrn. " Ay me ! how much I feare least love it bee ! But if that love 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. a vow, by this most sacred head Of my dear foster childe, to ease thy griefe And win thy will : Therefore away doe dread ; For deatJa nor daunger from ,thy dew reliefe Shall me debarre : Tell me therefore, my hefest Uefe!" So having sayd, her twixt her armss twaine Shee streightly straynd, and colled tenderly ; And every trembhng ioynt and every vaiue Shee softly felt, and rubbed busily. To doe the frosen cold away to fly ; And her faire deawy eies with kisses deare Shee ofte did bathe, and ofte againe did dry ; And ever her imp6rtund not to feare To let the secret of her hart to her appeare. XXX. 4. keight,] Caught. Upton. xxxri. 5. (fty thrilled trcjf;] Thy breast pierced through. Todd. XXXIII. 7. Ther^ore away doe dread /] It would have been more perspicuous if the poet had written *■ Therefore doe away dread." Todd. xxxiv. 2. colled] Hung about her veek. Lat. coUum. Church. The Damzell pauzd ; and then thus fearfully ; " Ah ! nurse, what needeth thee to eke my payne ! Is not enough that I alone doe dye, But it must doubled bee with death of twaine ? Fornouglitforme butdeath there doth remaine !" " daughter deare," said she, " despeu-e no whit ; For never sore but might a salve obtaine : That bUnded god, which hath ye blindly smit, Another arrow hath your Lovers hart to hit." XXXVI. " But mine is not," quoth she, " hke other wownd ; For which no reason can finde remedy." " Was never such, but mote the like be fownd," Said she ; " and though no reason may apply Salve to your sore, yet Love can higher stye Then Reasons reach, and oft hath wonders donne." " But neither god of love nor god of skye Can doe," said she, " that which cannot bedonne." " Things oft impossible," quoth she, " seeme ere begonne." xxxvn. " These idle wordes," said she, " doe nought aswage My stubbome smart, but more annoiaunce breed : For no, no usuaU fire, no usuall rage Yt is, nourse, which on my life doth feed. And sucks the blood which from my hart doth bleed. But since thy faithfuU zele lets me not hyde My crime, (if crime it be,) I will it reed. Nor prince nor pere it is, whose love hath gryde My feeble brest of late, and launched this wound wyde: xxxviii. " Nor man it is, nor other living wight ; For then some hope I might unto me draw ; But th' only shade and semblant of a Knight, Whose shape or person yet I never saw. Hath me subiected to Loves cruell law : The same one day, as me misfortune led, I in my fathers wondrous Mirrhour saw. And, pleased with that seeming goodlyhed, Unwares the hidden hooke with baite I swallowed : XXXEX. " Sithens it hath infixed faster hold Within my bleeding bowells, and so sore Nciw ranckleth in this same fraile fleshly mould. That all mine entrailes flow with poisnous gore. And th' ulcer groweth daily more and more ; Ne can my ronning sore finde remedee. Other than my hard fortune to deplore. And languish as the leafe fain from the tree, Till death make one end of my dales and miseree !" XL. " Daughter," said she, " what ueed ye be dismayd ! Or why make ye such monster of your minde ? Of much more uncouth thing I was afirayd ; Of filthy lust, contrary unto kinde : But this aflTection nothing straunge I finde ; For who with reason can you aye reprove To love the semblaunt pleasing most your minde, And yield your heart whence ye cannot remove i No guilt in You, but in the tyranny of Love. xi.r. " Not so th' Arabian MyiThe did sett her rayud ; Nor so iiid Biblis spend her pining hart ; CANTO n.] THE FAERIE Q,UEENE. 139 But lov'd their native flesh against al kynd, And to their purpose used wiclied art : Yet playd Pasiphae a more monstrous part, That lov'd a bull, and learnd a beast to bee : Such shamefidl lustes who loaths not, which depart From course of nature and of modestee ? Swete Love such lewdnes bauds from his faire companee. " But thine, my deare, (welfare thy heart, my deare !) Though straimge beginning had, yet fixed is On one that worthy may perhaps appeare ; And certes seemes bestowed not amis : loy thereof have tliou, and etemall blis ! " With that, upleaning on her elbow weake, Her alablaster brest she soft did kis. Which all that while shee felt to pant and quake. As it an earth-quake were : at last she thus bespake ; xLiri. " Beldame, your words doe worke me htle ease ; For though my love 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, however shamefull and unkinde. Yet did possesse tlieir horrible intent : Short end of sorrowes they therby did finde ; So was their fortune good, though wicked were their minde. xLrv. " But wicked fortune mine, though minde be good. Can have no end nor hope of my desire, But feed on shadowes whiles T die for food, And like a sliadow wexe, whiles with entire Afiection I doe languish and expire. I, fonder then Cephisus foolish chyld. Who, having vewed in a fomitaine shere His face, was with the love thereof beguyld ; I, fonder, love a shade, the body far exyld." XLV. Nought hke,' ' quoth shee ; " for that same wretched Was of himselfe the ydle paramoure, [boy Both Love and Lover, without hope of ioy ; For which he faded to a watry flowre. But better fortune tliiae, and better howre, • Which lov'st the shadow of a warlike Knight ; No shadow, but a body hath in powre : That body, wheresoever that it light. May learned be by cyphers, or by magicke might. xLvr. " But if thou may with reason yet represse The growing evill, ere it strength have gott, xLi. 9. Swete Love suck lewdves bands from his /aire companee.'} To band properly signifies to join tof/ether in a company, to assemble. Spenser therefore, either for the convenience of tlie verse, used bands for disbands i or, what is most probable, the word was written in his copy banns, which, according to Junius, is U) forbid by proscrip- tion, inierdicere ; and from whence the verb to banish is derived. T. Warton. XLUI. 6. unkinde,] Unnatural. The same as " con- trary unto Icinde," st. 40. "Against all kynd," st. 41. Chitkch. XLrv. 7. in a fountain shere]! Shere is transparent. Todd. And thee abandond wholy do possesse ; Against it strongly strive, and yield thee nott Til thou in open fielde adowne be smott : But if the passion mayster thy fraile might. So that needs love or death must be thy lott. Then I avow to thee, by wrong or right To compas thy desire, and find that loved Knight." Her chearefuU 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 busy ayd ; So that at last a litle creeping sleepe Surprizd her sence : Shee, therewith well apayd. The dronken lamp down in the oyl did steepe. And sett her by to watch, and sett her by to weepe. Earely, the morrow next, before that Day His ioyous face did to the world revele. They both uprose and tooke then* ready way Unto the church, their praiers to appele. With great devotion, and with htle zele : For the faire Damzell from the holy herse Her love-sicke hart to other thoughts did Steale : And that old Dame said many an idle verse. Out of her daughters hart fond fancies to reverse. Retoumed home, the royall Infant fell Into her former fitt ; for why ? no powre Nor guidaunce of herselfe in her did dwell. But th' aged nourse, her calling to her bowre, Had gathered rew, and savine, and the flowre Of camphora, and calamint, and dill ; AU which she in a earthen pot did poure. And to the brim with coltwood did it fill. And many drops of milk and blood through it did spill. L. Then, taking thrise three heares from off' her head, Them trebly breaded in a threefold lace. And round about the pots mouth bound the thread ; And, after having whispered a space Certein sad words with hollow voice and bace, Shee to the Virgin sayd, thrise sayd she itt ; "Come, daughter, come ; come,spituponmy face ; Spitt thrise upon me, thrise upon me spitt ; Th' uneven nomber for this busines is most fitt." That sayd, her rownd about she from her tumd. She turned her contrary to the sunne ; Thrise she her tumd contrary, and returnd AU contrary ; for she the right did shunne ; And ever what she did was streiglit undonne. So thought she to undoe her daughter's love : xLvii. 7. Shee, therewith well apayd,] Old Glauco well apayd, well satisfied, to see her ward taking a little rest, does not blow out the lamp, for that was ill ominous ; but hteeps it, and thus extinguishes it, in the oil: and then sets herself to watch by her, and, lamenting her case, weeps over her. Upton. xLvnr. 6. from the holy herse] Holy herse is here, the rehearsal of the prayers in the church-service, at which Britomart is now described as present. T. Warton. Yiviii. 9. to reverse.] To cause to return. Chorch. ilU THE FAERIE QUEENE. [BOOK III. Bat love, that ia in gentle brest begonne. No ydle chaj-mes so lightly may remore ; That well can witnesse, who by tryall it does prove. Ne ought it mote the noble Mayd avayle, Ne slake the fury of her cruell flame, But that shee still did waste, and still did wayle, That, through long languour and hart-burning brame. She shortly like a pyned ghost became Which long hath waited by the Stygian strond: That when old Glance 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 Arthegall: And siiewes the famous progeny. Which from them apringen suall. Most sacred fyre, that bumest mightily In living brests, ykindled first above Emongst th' eternall spheres and lamping sky. And thence pourd into men, which men call Love; Not that same, which doth base affections move In brutish raindes, and filthy lust inflame ; But that sweete fit that doth true beautie love. And choscth Vertue for his dearest dame. Whence spring all noble deedes and never-dying fame : ir. Well did Antiquity a god thee deeme. That over mortall raindes hast so great might. To order them as best to thee doth seeme. And all their actions to direct aright : The fatall purpose of divine foresight Thou doest effect in destined descents. Through deepe impression of thy secret might, And stirredst up th' heroes high intents, Which the late world admyres for wondrous moni- ments. But thy dredd dartes in none doe triumph more, Ne braver proofe in any of thy powre Shewd'st thou, then in this iDyall Maid of yore. Making her seeke an unknowne Paramonre, From the worlds end, through many a bitter stowre : [rayse From whose two loynes thou afterwardes did Most famous fruites of matrimoniaU bowre. Which through the earth have spredd their living prayse. That fame in tromp of gold eternally dispUyes. Begin then, my dearest sacred Dame, Daughter of Phoebus and of Memorye, Lit. 4. brame,3 Severe or sharp. Todd. in. 6. Which long hath waited by the Stygian itrond."] Waited, because the body had not the rites of burial. Upton. I. 3. . lamping sliy,"] Ital. lampante, shining. Upton'. That doest ennoble with immortall name The warUke worthies, from antiquitye. In thy great volume of Eternitye ; Begin, Clio, and recount from hence My glorious Soveraines goodly Atmeestrye, Till that by dew degrees, and long protense. Thou have it lastly brought ujito her Excellence. Full many wayes within her troubled mind Old Glance cast to cure this Ladies griefe ; Full many wayes she sought, but none could find, Nor herbes, nor charmes, nor counsel that is chiefe And choicest med'cine for sick harts reliefe : Forthy great care she tooke, and greater feare, Least that it should her turne to fowle repriefe And sore reproch, whenso her father deare Should of his dearest daughters hard misfortune heare. At last she her avisde, that he which made That Mirrhour, wherein the sicke Damosell So straungely vewed her straunge lovers shade. To weet, the learned Merlin, well could tell Under what coast of heaven the Man did dwell. And by what means his love might best be For, though beyond the Africk Ismael [wrought : Or th' Indian Peru he were, she thought Him forth through infinite endevoiu' to have sought . Forthwith themselves disguising both in straunge And base attyre, that none might them bewray. To Mariduuum, that is now by chaunge Of name Cayr-Merdui cald, they tooke their way : There the wise Merlin whylome wont (they say) To make his wonne, low underneath the gi'ound, In a deepe delve, farre from the vew of day, That of no living wight he mote he found, Whenso he counseld with his sprights encompast round. And, if thou ever happen that same way To traveill, go to see that dreadful place : It is an hideous hollow cave (they say) Under a rock that lyes a litle space From the swift Barry, tombUng downe apace Emongst the woody hilles of Dyneuowre : But dare thou not, I charge, in any cace To enter into that same balefuU bowre. For feare the cruell feendes should thee unwares devowre : But standing high aloft low lay thine eare, And there such ghastly noyse of yron chaines And braseu caudrons thou shalt rombUng heare. Which thousand sprights with long enduring paines Doe tosse, that it will stonn thy feeble braines ; rv. 8. long protense,] Protense, a protendo, from stretching and drawing out. The Italians have protendere, pruteso, protensione. Uptom. VI. 1. avisde,] Bethought. Church. VI. 7- the Africk Ismail,'] The Israelites or Atfl- rens, called afterwards Saracens, conqueredagreat Dar*'>( Africa : hence he says " the A/rick Ismail." Upt^n. CANTO III.] THE FAERIE QUEENE. 141 And oftentimes great grones, and grievous stownds, Wlien too liuge toile and labour them constraines ; And oftentimes loud strokes and ringing sowndes From under that deepe rock most horribly re- bowndes. X. The cause, some say, is this : A litle whyle Before that Merlin dyde, he did intend A brasen wall in compas to eompyle About Cairmardin, and did it commend Unto these sprights to bring to perfect end : During which worke the Lady of the Lake, Whom long he lov'd, for him in hast did send ; Who, thereby forst his workemen to forsake. Them bownd, till his retourne, their labom- not to slake. In the meane time through that false Ladies traine He was surprisd, and buried under beare, Ne ever to his worke returnd againe : Nath'Iesse those feends may not their work for- beare, So gi'eatly his commandement they feare. But there doe toyle and traveile day and night, Untill that brasen wall they up doe reare : For Merlin had in magick more insight Then ever him before or alter Uving wight : For he by wordes could call out of the sky Both sunne and moone,and make them him obay ; The land to sea, and sea to maineland dry, And darksom night he eke could tm-ne to day ; Huge hostes of men he could alone dismay. And hostes of men of meanest thinges could Whenso him list his enimies to fray : [frame, That to this day, for terror of his fame, The feendes do quake when any him to them does And, sooih, men say that he was not the sonne Of mortall syre or other living wight, But wondrously begotten, and begonne By false iUusiou of a guilefuU spright On a fair lady Nonne, that whilome hight Matilda, daughter to Pubidius Who was the lord of Mathtraval by right. And coosen unto king Ambrosius ; Whence he indued was with skill so merveilous. They, here arriving, staid awhile without, Ne durst adventure rashly in to wend. But of their first intent gan make new dout For dread of daunger, which it might portend : Untill the hardy Mayd (with Love to frend) First entering, the dreadfull Mage there fownd Deepe busied 'bout worke of wondrous end, And writing straunge characters in the grownd. With which the stubborne feendes he to his ser- vice bownd. xrv. 3. ■ gan make new douf] Began to raise new difliculties, new fears. Church. XIV. 5. with Love to frend] To befriend her. Todd. xiv. 6. Mage] Magician. Lat. magus. Church. He nought was moved at their .entraunce bold. For of their comming well he wist afore ; Yet list them bid their businesse to unfold. As if ought in this world in secrete store Were from him hidden, or unknowne of yore. Then Glance thus ; " Let not it thee offend. That we thus rashly through thy darksom dore Unwares have prest ; for either fatall end, Or otlier mightie cause, us two did liether send." He bad tell on : And then she thus began ; [light *' Now have three moones with borrowd brothers Thrise shined faire,andthriseseemddimandwan, Sith a sore evill, which this Virgin bright Tormenteth and doth plonge in dolefiiU 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." 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 neede of leach-crafte hath your Damozell, Then of my skill : who helpe may have elsewhere. In vaine seekes wonders out of magick spell." Th' old woman wox half blanck those wordes to heare ; And yet was loth to let her purpose plaine appeare ; xvnr. And to him said ; " Yf any leaches skill. Or other learned meanes, could have redrest This my deare daughters deepe-engraffed ill, Certes I should be loth thee to molest : But this sad evill, 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 evill spright, that in her doth such torment breed." XIX. The Wisard could no longer beare her bord. But, bursting forth in laughter, to her sayd ; " Glauce, what needes this colourable word To cloke the cause that hath itselfe bewrayd ? Ne ye, fayre Britomartis, thus arayd. More hidden are then sunne in cloudy vele ; Whom thy good fortune, having fate obayd. Hath hether brought for succour to appele ; The which the Powres to thee are pleased to revele." XX. The doubtfull Mayde, seeing herselfe descryde. Was all abasht, and her pure yvory Into a cleare carnation suddeine dyde ; XV. 8 fatall end,] Destiny. Church. XVI. 8. but if j Except or itnlcss. Todd. XVII. 5. leacli-crafte] The art of healing or of phi/sick. Todd. XVII, 8. Th' old woman wox lialf blanck] Half con- founded a.nd ovt of coiinlennnce. Upton. XIX. 1. her bord,] Her jest^ her pretence; foi what she said was not trtie. Todd, 142 THE FAERIE QUEENE. [book III, As fa_vre Aurora, rysing hastily, Doth by her blushing tell that she did lye All night in old Tithonus frozen bed. Whereof she seemes ashamed inwardly : But her olde nourse was nought dishartened. But vauntage made of that which Merlin had ared ; And sayd ; " Sith then thou knowest all our griefe, (For what doest not thou knowe ?) of grace I pray, Pitty our playnt, and yield us meet reliefe !" With that the Prophet still awhile did stay. And then his spirite thus gan foorth display ; " Most noble Virgin, that by fat^U lore Hast leam'.d to love, let no whit thee dismay The hard beginne that meetes thee in the dore. And with sharpe fits thy tender hart oppresseth sore : XXII. " 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 hevens hight forth stretched bee. For from thy wombe a famous progeuee Shall spring out of the auneient Trojan blood. Which shall revive the sleeping memoree Of those same antique peres, the hevens brood, Which Greeke and Asian rivers stayned with their blood. XXIII. " Renowmed kings, and sacred emperours. Thy fruitfuU ofspring, shall from thee descend ; Brave captaines, and most mighty warx'iours. That shall their conquests through aU lands extend, And their decayed kingdomes shall amend : The feeble Britons, broken with long warre, They shall upreare, and mightily defend Against their forren foe that commes from farre, Till universall peace compound all civill iarre. " It was not, Britomart, thy wandring eye Glauncing unwares in charmed Looking-glas, But the streigbt course of hevenly destiny. Led with Eternall Providence, that has Guyded thy glaunce, to bring His Will to pas: Ne is thy fate, ne is thy fortune ill, To love the prowest Knight that ever was : Therefore submit thy wayes imto His Will, And doe, by all dew meanes, thy destiny fulfill." XXV. " But read," saide Glance, " thou Magitian, What meanes shall she out-seeke, or what waies take? How shall she know, how shall she finde the Man ? Or what needes her to toyle, sith fates can make Way for themselves their purpose to pertake ?" Then Merlin thus ; " ludeede the fates are firme. And may not shrinck, though all the world do shake : Yet ought mens good endevours them eonfirme, And guyde the heavenly causes to their constant terme. XXVI. " The Man, whom heavens have ordaynd to bee The spouse of Britomart, is Arthegall : xxT. a. The hardlnsfinne] Beginning. Todd. He wonneth in the land of Fayeree, Yet is no Fary borne, ne sib at all To Elfes, but sprong of seed terrestriall. And whylome by false Faries stolne away, Whyles yet in infant cradle he did crall ; Ne other to himselfe is knowne this day. But that he by aa Elfe was gotten of a Fay : xxvir. " But sooth he is the sonne of Gorlois, And brother unto Cador, Cornish king ; And for his warhke feates renowmed is. From where the day out of the sea doth spimg, Untill the closure of the evening : [band, From thence him, firmely bound with faithful! To this his native soyle thou backe shalt bring. Strongly to ayde his countrey to withstand The powre of forreine Paynims which invade thy land. XXVI II. " Great ayd thereto his mighty puissaunce And dreaded name shall give in that sad day ; Where also proofe of thy prow vahaunce Thou then shalt make, t' increase thy Lover's pray : [sway, Long time ye both in armes shall beare great Till thy wombes burden thee from them do call. And his last fate him from thee take away ; Too rathe cut ofi' by practise criminall Of secrete foes, that bini shall make in mischiefe fall. " With thee yet shall he leave, for memory Of his late puissaunce, his ymage dead. That living him in all activity To thee shall represent : He, from the head Of his coosen Constantiiis, without dread Shall take the crowne that was his fathers right, And therewith crowne himselfe in th' others stead: Then shall he issew forth with dreadfull might Against his Saxon foes in bloody field to fight. " Like as a lyon that in drowsie cave Hath long time slept, himselfe so shall he shake ; And, comming forth, shall spred his banner brave Over the troubled South, that it shall make The warlike Mertians for feare to quake : [win; Thrise shall he fight with them, and twise shall But the third time shall fayre accordaunce make : And, if he then with viotorie can lin, He shall his dayes with peace bring to his earthly In. xxxi. " His Sonne, hight Vortipore, shall him succeede In kingdome, but not in felicity : XXVI. 4. sib] Relation. "Ne sib at all," i. e. fte is no way related. Church. xxvn. 6. From thence'] That is, From Fairy land. Church. Ibid. Mm, firmely bound with faithfull band,] That is, him bouDd in wedlock. Church. xxvra. 8. Too rathe] Too early. Todd. XXIX. 2. his ymage dead,] That is, He dead shall leave thee his image : Or, His image dead is, the image of him dead. When he dies, ho shall leave thee a son the image of himself. Jortin. XXX. 8 can lin,] Cease, or give over. Todd. XXX. 9. his earthly In.] So he calls death, " the common In of rest," F. Q. il. i. 69. Todd. CANTO III.] THE FAERIE QUEENE. 143 Yet shall he long time wai're with happy speed, And with great honour many battoiUs try ; But at the last to th' importunity Of froward fortune shall be forst to yield : But his Sonne Malgo shall full mightily Avenge his fathei'S losse with speai' and shield. And his proud foes discomfit in victorious field. " Behold the Man ! and tell me, Britomart, If ay more goodly creature thou didst see 1 How like a gyaunt iu each manly part Beares he himselfe with portly niaiestee, That one of th' old heroes seemes to bee ! He the six Islands, comprovinciall In auncient times unto great Britainee, Shall to the same reduce, and to him call Their sondry kings to do their homage severaU. " All which his sonne Cai-eticus awhile Shall well defend, and Saxons p owreVippresse ; UntHl a straunger king, from unknowne soyle Arriving, him with multitude oppresse ; Great Gormond, having with huge mightinesse Ireland subdewd, and therein fixt his throne, Like a swift otter, fell through emptinesse. Shall overswim the sea with many one Of his Norveyses, to assist the Britons fone. " He in his fiirie all shall over-ronne. And holy church with faithlesse handes deface. That thy sad people, utterly fordonne. Shall to the utmost mountaines fly apace : Was never so great waste in any pk,ce. Nor so fowle outrage doen by living men ; For all thy citties they shall sacke and race. And the greene grasse that groweth they shall bren. That even the wUde beast shall dy in starved den. " Whiles thus thy Britons doe in languour pine. Proud Etheldred shall from the North arise, Serving th' ambitious wiU of Augustine, And, passing Dee, with hardy enterprise Shall backe repulse the valiaunt Brockwel twise. And Bangor with massdcred martyrs fiU ; But the third time shall rew his fool-hardise : For Cadwan. pittying his peoples ill. Shall stoutly him defeat, and thousand Saxons kill. XXXVI. « But, after him, Cadwallin mightily On his Sonne Edwin all those wrongs shalhvreake; Ne shall availe the wicked sorcery Of false Pellite his purposes to breake, But him shall slay, and on a gallowes bleak Shall give th' enchaunter his unhappy hire : Then shall the Britons, late dismayd and weake. From their long vassallage gin to respire, And on their Paynim foes avenge their ranckled ire. " Ne shaU he yet his wrath so mitigate. Till both the sonnes of Edwin he have slayne. xxxTi. 6. He the six Islands, &e.3 Viz. Ireland, Iseland, Codland, the Orkneys, Norway, and Dacia. CiiimcH. Offricke and Osricke, twinnes unfortunate, Both slaine in battaile upon Layburne plajTie, Together with the kmg of Louthiane, Hight Adin, and the king of Orkeny, Both ioynt partakers of their fatall payne : But Penda, fearefull of like desteney. Shall yield himselfe his hegeman, and sweare fealty : xxxvin. " Him shall he make his fatall instrument T' afflict the other Saxons unsubdewd : He marching forth with fury insolent Against the good king Oswald, who indewd With heavenly powre, and by angels reskewd, AU holding crosses in their hands on hye. Shall him defeate withouten blood imbrewd : Of which that field for endlesse memory ShaU Hevenfield be cald to all posterity. XXXIX. " Whereat Cadwallin wroth shall forth issew. And an huge hoste into Northumber lead. With which he godly Oswald shall subdew. And crowne with martiredome his sacred head : Whose brother Oswin, daunted with like dread. With price of silver shall his kingdome buy ; And Penda, seeking him adowne to tread, Shall tread adowne, and doe him fowly dye ; But shall with gifts his lord Cadwallin pacify. " Then shall Cadwallin die ; and then the raine Of Britons eke with him attonce shall dye ; Ne shall the good Cadwallader, with paine Or powre, be liable it to remedy. When the full time, prefixt by destiny. Shall be expird of Britons regiment : For Heven itselfe shall their successe envy. And them with plagues and raurrins pestilent Consume, till all their warlike puissaunce be spent; " Yet after all these sorrowes, and huge hills Of dying people, during eight yeares space, Cadwallader, not yielding to his ills. From Armoricke, where long in wretched oace He.liv'd, retoummg to his native place, Shal be by vision staide from his intent : For th' Heavens have decreed to displace The Britons for their sinnes dew punishment. And to the Saxons over-give their government. " Then woe, and woe, and everlasting woe. Be to the Briton babe that shal be borne To live in thraldome of his fathers foe ! Late king, now captive ; late lord, now forlome ; The worlds reproch ; the cruell victors scorne ; Banisht from princely bowre to wasteful wood ! ! who shall helpe me to lament and mourne The royaU seed, the antique Trojan blood. Whose empire lenger here then ever any stood I " The Damzell was full deepe empassioned Both for his griefe, and for her peoples sake. Whose future woes so plaine he fashioned ; XXXVII. 7. theW /ntall pnt/ne:] That is. The fatal end of Offricke and Osrick. TouD. lU THE FAERIE QUEENE. [book in. And, sighing sore, at length him thus bespake ; " Ah ! but will Hevens fury never slake, Nor vengeaunce huge relent itselfe at last ? Will not long misery late mercy make. But shall their name for ever be defaste. And quite from off the earth their memory be raste 2 " " Nay but the terme," sayd he, " is limited. That in this thraldome Britons shall abide ; And the iust revolution measured That they as straungers shal be notifide : For twise fowre hundretli yeares shal be supplide. Ere they to former rule restor'd shal bee. And their impdrtune fates all satisfide : Yet, during this their most obscuritee, Their beames shall ofte breake forth, that men them faire may see. " For Rhodoricke, whose surname shal be Great, Shall of himselfe a brave ensample shew. That Saxon kings his friendship shall intreat ; And Howell Dha shall goodly well indew The salvage minds with skill of iust and trew : Then Griffyth Conau also shall upreare His dreaded head, and the old sparkes renew Of native corage, that his foes shall feare Least back againe the kingdom he from them should beare. " Ne shall the Saxons selves all peaceably Enioy the crowne, which they from Britons First ill, and after ruled wickedly : [wonne For, ere two hundred yeares be full outronne. There shall a Raven, far from rising simne. With his wide wings upon them fiercely fly. And bid his faithlesse chickens overronne The fruitfuU plaines, and with fell cruelty In their avenge tread downe the victors surquedry. xLvn. " Yet shall a Third both these and thine subdew : There shall a Lion from the sea-bord wood Of Neustria come roring, with a crew Of hungry whelpes, his battailous bold brood. Whose clawes were newly dipt in cruddy blood. That from the Daniske Tyrants head shall rend Th' usurped crowne, as if that he were wood. And the spoile of the countrey conquered Emongst his young ones shall divide with bountyhed. XLVITI. " Tho, when the terme is full aecomplishid. There shall a sparke of fire, which hath longwhile Bene in his ashes ralced up and hid. Bee freshly Icindled in the fruitfull He 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 soveraine name : So shall the Briton blood their cro^vne againe reclame. xLiv. 8. their most obscuritee,'] Their greatest obscniity. Todd. XLv[i 2. the sea-bord woocT} The sea-bordering wood. Church. " Thenceforth eternall union shall be made Betweene the nations different afore. And sacred Peace shall lovingly persuade The warhke minds to learne her goodly lore. And civile armes to exercise no more : Then shall a Royall Virgin raine, which shall Stretch her white rod over the Belgicke shore. And the greate Castle smite so sore withall. That it shall make him shake, and shortly learn to fall: L. "But yet the end is not" — There Merlin stayd, As overcomen of the spirites powre. Or other ghastly spectacle dismayd. That secretly he saw, yet note discoure : Which suddein fitt and halfe extatick stoure When the two fearful! women saw, they grew Greatly confused in behaveoure : At last, the fury past, to former hew Hee turnd 'againe, and chearfull looks as earst did shew. i-i. Then, when themselves they well instructed had Of all that needed them to be inquird. They both, conceiving hope of comfort glad. With hghter hearts unto their home retird ; Where they in secret counsell close conspird, How to effect so hard an enterprize. And to possesse the purpose thoy desu-d : Now this, now that, twixt them they did devize, And diverse plots did frame to maske in strange disguise. LIT. At last the nourse in her fool-hardy wit Conceiv'd a bold devise, and thus bespake ; " Daughter, I deeme that counsel aye most fit. That of the time doth dew advauntage take ; Ye see that good king Uther now doth make Strong warre upon the Paynim brethren, hight Octa and Oza, whome hee lately brake Beside Cayr Verolame in victorious fight. That now all Britany doth bume in armes bright. LUI. " That therefore nought our passage may empea'^li, Let us in feigned armes ourselves disguize. And our weake hands (Need makes good schol- lers) teach The dreadful speare and shield to exercize : Ne certes, daughter, that same warlike wize, I weene, would you misseeme ; for ye beene tall And large of limbe t'atchieve an hard emprize ; Ne ought ye want but skil, which practize small Will bring, and shortly make you a Mayd raartiall. " And, sooth, it ought your corage much inflame To heare so often, in that royall hous. From whence to none inferior ye came. Bards tell of many wemen valorous, * Which have full many feats adventurous Performd, in paragone of proudest men : The bold Bunduca, whose victorious Exployts made Rome to quake ; stout Guendolen ; Renowmed Mai'tia ; and redoubted Emmilen ; L. 3 dismayd,] That is, ugly, ill-shaped. Church. Lm. 1. einpeach,j Hinder. Todp. CANTO IV.] THE FAERIE QUEENE. 145 " And, that which more theu all the rest may sway. Late dayes ensample, which these eies beheld : In the last field before Menevia, Which Uther with those forrein Pagans held, I saw a Saxou virgin, the which feld Great Ulfin thrise upon the bloody playne ; And, had not Carados her hand witliheld From rash revenge, she had him surely slayne ; Yet Carados himseli'e from her escapt with payne." "Ah ! read," quoth Britomart, "how is shehight?" " Fayre Angela," quoth she, " men do her call. No whit lesse fayre then terrible in fight ; She hath the leading of a martiall And mightie people, dreaded more then aU The other Saxons, which doe, for her sake And love, themselves of her name Angles call. Therefore, faire Infant, herensample malce Unto thysehe, and equaU corage to thee take." Her harty wordes so deepe into the mynd Of the young DamzeU sunke, that great desire Of warlike armes in her forthwith tliey tynd. And generous stout courage did inspyre. That she resolv'd, unweeting to her sjtc, Advent'roiis knighthood on herselfe to don ; And counseld with her nourse her maides attyre To tume into a massy habergeon ; And bad her aU things put in readiness anon. Th' old woman nought that needed did omit ; But all thinges did conveniently purvay. It fortuned (so time their turne did fitt) A band of Britons, ryding on forray Few dayes before, had gotten a great pray Of Saxon goods ; emongst tlie which was scene A goodly armour, and full rich aray, "Wliich long'd to Angela, the Saxou queene, AU fretted round with gold and goodly wel beseene. The same, with all the other ornaments. King Ryence caused to be hanged hy Id his cliiefe church, for endlesse moniments Of his' successe and gladfull victory ; Of which herselfe avising readily. In th' evening late old Glauce thether led Faire Britomart, and, that same armory Downe taking, her therein appareled Well as she might, and ivitli brave bauldrick gar- nished. Beside those armes there stood a mightie speare. Which Bladud made by magick art of yore. And usd the same in batteill aye to beare ; Sith which it had beene here preserved in store. For his great virtues proved long afore : For never wight so fast in sell could sit. But him perforce unto the ground it bore : Lvii. 7- ^«'* maides attyre To turne &C.3 That is, to change her maiden drees for a suit of armour. Church. Lviii. 4. forray] Foraging or pillaging, from the verb forray. Todd. Both speare she tooke and shield which hong by it ; Boili speare and shield of great powre, for her pur- pose fit. Lxr. Thus when she had the Virgin all arayd. Another harnesse which did hang thereby About herselfe she dight, that the yong M-iyd She might in equall armes accompany. And as her Squyre attend her carefully : Tho to their ready steedes they clombe full Uglit ; And through back waies, that none might them espy. Covered with secret cloud of sUent night. Themselves they forth couvaid, and passed forward right. Lxir. Ne rested they, till that to Faery Lond They came, as Merlin them directed late : Where, meeting with this Redcrosse Knight, she Of diverse thinges discourses to dilate, [fond But most of Arthegall and his estate. At last their waves so fell, that they mote part : Then each to other, well affectionate, Friendship professed with unfained hart : The Redcrosse Knight diverst ; but fortli rode Britomart. CANTO 17. Bold Marinell of Britomart la tbrowne on the Rich Strond; Taire Floilmell of Arthur 18 Long followed, but not fond. Where is the antique glory now become, That whylome wont in wemen to appeare ? Where be the brave atchievementsdoen by some ? Where be the batteUles, where the shield and speare. And all the conquests which them high did reare. That matter made for famous poets verse. And boastful! men so oft aljasht to heare ? Beene they all dead, and laide in dolefuU herse ? Or doeu they onely sleepe, and shall againe reverse \ II. If they be dead, then woe is me therefore ; But if they sleepe, let them soone awake ! For all too long I burne with envy sore To heare the warlike feates which Homere spake Of bold Penthesilee, which made a lake Of Greekish blood so ofte in Trojan plaine ; But when I reade, how stout Debora strake Proud Sisera, and how CamiU' hath slaine The huge Orsilochus, I swell with great disdaine. Ill, Yet these, and all that els had puissaunce. Cannot with noble Britomart compare. Lxr. 2. ^iio/fter harnesse] Suit of armour. OldFr. harnois. Todd. Lxn. 4. to dilate,] That is, enlarge upon, relate at large. Upton. J,xn. 9 diverst ;] Turned aside out of the road. Diverst is the same as diverted, from the Lat. diverto, to turn aside. Todd. I. 9, reverse ?] Return. Church, 14b' THE FAERIE QUEENE. [BOOK III. Aswell for glorie of great valiaiiiice, As for pure chastitee and vertue rare, That all her goodly deedes doe well declare. WeU worthie stock, from which the branches sprong That in late yeares so faire a blossome bare. As thee, O Queene, the matter of my song. Whose lignage from this Lady I derive along ! IV. Who when, tlirough speaches with the Redcrosse Knight, She learned had th' estate of Arthegall, And in each point hersolfe informd aright, A friendly league of love perpetuall She with him bound, and conge tooke withall. Then he forth on his iourney did proceede. To seeke adventures which mote him befall. And win him worship through liis warlike deed. Which alwaies of his paines he made the chiefest meed. V. But Britomart kept on her former course, Ne ever dofte her armes ; but all the way Grew pensive through that amorous discourse. By which the Redcrosse Knight did earst display Her Lovers shape and chevalrous aray : A thousand thoughts she fashiond in her mind ; And in her feigning fancie did pourtray Him, such as fittest she for love could find. Wise, warlike, personable, courteous, and kind. vr. With such selfe-pleasing thoughts her woimd she fedd. And thought so to beguile her grievous smart ; But so her smart was much more grievous bredd. And the deepe wound more deep engord her hart. That nought but death her dolour mote depart. So forth she rode, without repose or rest, Searching all lands and each remotest part, FoUowmg the guydance of her blinded guest. Till that to the sea-coast at length she her addrest. Tliere she alighted from her light-foot beast. And, sitting downe upon the rocky shore, Badd her old Squyre unlace her lofty creast : Tho, having vew^d awhile the surges here That gainst the craggy clifts did loudly rore. And in their raging surquedry disdaynd That the fast earth affronted thsm so sore. And then* devouring covetize restraynd ; Thereat she sighed deepe, and after thus com- playud : vin. " Huge sea of sorrow and tempestuous griefe, Wherein my feeble barke is tossed long Far from the hoped haven of reliefe. Why doe thy cruel billowes beat so sti'ong. And thy moyst moimtaines each on others throng, Threatning to swallow up my fearefuU lyfe ? O, doe thy cruell wrath and spightfull wrong VI. 6. depart.] Remove.^ Bcparate. Church. VI. 8. her blinded guest,^ Love. Church. VI. 9 addrest.'] She addressed herself, she di- rected her course to. Church. *n. 6. surquedryj Prjde. Todd. VII. 7. affronted] Opposed. Todd. At length allay, and stint tliy stormy strife, Which in these troubled bowels raignes and rageth ryfe ! IX. " For els my feeble vessell, erazd and craekt Through thy strong buffets and outrageous blowes. Cannot endure, but needes it must be wrackt On the rough rocks, or on the sandy shalldwes. The wliiles tliat Love it stei'es, and Fortune rowes : Love, my lewd pilott, hath a restlesse minde ; And ]?ortm)e, boteswaine, no assui-aunce Imowes ; But saile withouten starres gainst tyde and winde : How can they other doe, sith both ai'e bold and blinde ! X. " Thou god of windes, that raignest in the seas, That raignest also in the continent, At last blow up some gentle gale of ease. The which may bring my ship, ere it be rent, Unto the gladsome port of her intent ! Then, when I shall myselfe in safety see, A table, for etei*nall moniment Of thy great grace and my great ieopardee, Great Neptune, I avow to hallow unto thee ! " Then sighing softly sore, and inly deepe, She shut up all her plaint in privy gi'iefe ; (For her great courage would not let her weepe ;) Tin that old Glance gan with sharpe repi-iefe Her to restraine, and give her good reliefe Through hope of those, which Merlin had her Should of her name and nation be chiefe, f told And fetch their being from the sacred mould Of her immortall womb, to be in heven eurold. Thus as she her reeomforted, she spyde Where far away one, all in ai'mour bright. With hasty gallop towards her did ryde : Her dolour soone she ceast, and on her dight Her helmet, to her courser mounting hght : Her former sorrow into sudden wrath (Both coosen passions of distroubled spright) Converting, forth she beates the dusty path : Love and despight attonce her corage kindled hath. As. when a foggy mist hath overcast The face of heven and the cleare ayre engroste. The world in darknes dwels ; till that at last The watry southwinde from the seabord coate Upblowing doth disperse the vapour lo'ste. And poures itselfe forth in a stormy showre ; So the fayre Britomart, having discloste Her clowdy care into a wrathfull stowre. The mist of griefe dissolv'd did into vengeance powre. XIV. Eftsoones, her goodly shield addressing fayre. That mortall speare she in her hand did take, Lewd as in IX. 6 viy lewd pilott,'] My ignorant pilot. is often used by Chaucer in opposition to learned old romances it also is to clerk. Todd. XIII. 5. . the vapour lo'ste,] The vapour lo tie is the vapour looste, loosed, dissolved ; as disdc'iti in the seventh line is disclooste, disclosed. Church. Canto iv.] THE FAERIE QUEENE. 147 And unto battaill did herselfe prepayre. The Knight, approchiiig, steruely her bespake ; " Six" Knight, that doest tliy voyage rashly make By tliis forbidden way in my despight, Ne doest by others death eusaraple take ; I read thee soone retyre, whiles thou hast might, Least afterwards it be too late to take thy flight." Mirild with deepe disdaine of his proud threat, She shortly thus ; " Fly they, that need to fly ; Wordos feareu 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 Icaowne. Strongly the straunge Knight ran, and sturdily Strooke her full on the Brest, that made her downe Declhie her head, and touch her erouper with her But she againe him in the shield did smite With so fierce fiu'ie and great puissaunce. That, through his three-square scuchin percing quite And thi-ough his may led hauberque, by mis- chaunce [glaunce : The wicked Steele through his left side did Him so transfixed she before her bore Beyond his croupe, the length of all her laimce ; Till, sadly soucing on the sandy shore. He tombled on an heape, and waUowd in his gore. Like as the sacred oxe that carelesse stands With gilden homes and flowry girlonds crownd, Proud of his dying honor and deare bandes. Whiles th' altars fume with frankincense arownd. All suddeinly with mortall stroke astownd Doth groveling fall, and with his streaming gore Distaines the pUlom-s and the holy grownd. And the faire flowres that decked him afore : So fell proud MarineU upon the Pretious Shore. xvirr. The martiall Mayd stayd not him to lament, But forward rode, and kept her ready way Along the Strond ; which, as she over-went, She saw bestrewed all with rich aray Of pearles and pretious stones of great assay. And all the gravell mixt with golden o^vre : Whereat she wondred much, but would not stay For gold, or perles, or pretious stones, an howre, But them despised aU ; for all was in her powre. xrx. 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 warUke sonne unto 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 love, and by her closely lay. xvrn, 0. ■ ■ "n howre,'] That is, any while. TTrxoN. xviii. 'J- for all V!as in her powre.'] That is, rtot- withslanding they were all in her power. Todd. There he this Knight of her begot, whom borne She, of his father, MarineU did name ; And in a rocky cave as wight foi'lorne Long time she fostred up, till he became A mighty man at armes, and mickle fame Did get through great adventures by him donne : For never man he suff'red by that same Rich Strond to travell, whereas he did wonne. But that he must do battail with the Sea-nymphes Sonne. XXI. An hundred Knights of honorable name He had subdew'd, and tliem his vassals made : That through aU Farie Lend his noble fame Now blazed was, and feai-e did all invade. That none durst passen through that perilous And, to advaunce his name and glory more. Her sea-god syre she dearely did perswade T' endow her sonne \viththreasure and rich store Bove all the sonnes that were of earthly wombes ybore. xxn. The god did graunt his daughters deare demaund. To doen his nephew in all riches flow : Eftsoones his heaped waves he did commaund Out of their hollow bosome forth to tlirow All the huge threasm'e, which the sea below Had in his greedy gulfe devoured deepe. And him enriched tlu'ough the overthrow And wreckes of many wretches, which did weepe And often wayle their wealth which he from them did keepe. xxm. Shortly upon 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, yvorie, perles, owches, rings. And all that els was pretious and deare, The sea mito him volimtary brings ; That shortly he a great Lord did appeare. As was in all the Lond of Faery, or elsewheare. Thereto he was a doughty dreaded Knight, Tryde often to the scath of many deare, That none in equall armes him matchen might : The which his mother seeing gan to feare Least liis too haughtie hardines might reare Some hard mishap in hazard of his life : Forthy she oft him counseld to forbeare The bloody batteill, and to stirre up strife. But after all his warre to rest liis wearie Imife : And, for his more assuraunce, she inquir'd One day of Proteus by his mighty spell (For Proteus was with prophecy inspir'd) Her deare sonnes destiny to her to tell, And the sad end of her sweet MarineU : Who, through foresight of his eternaU skill, XXIV. 2. Tryde often to ike scath of many deare,] That is, Often dearly tried to the hurt (scath) of many. Church. XXIV. 9. his wearie knife :] Knife is usually em- ployed for sword in the old romances. Todd. I, 2 148 THE FAERIE QUEENE. [book III. Bad her from womankind to keepe him well ; For of a woman he should hare much ill ; A Virgin stramige and stout him should dismay or kill. XXVI. Forthy she gave him warning every day The love of women not to entertaine ; A lesson too too hard for Uving clay, From love in com'se of nature to refraine ! Yet he his mothers lore did well retaine, And ever from fayre Ladies love did fly ; Yet many Ladies fayre did oft complaine, That they for love of him would algates dy: Dy, whoso list for him, he was Loves enimy. But ah ! who can deceive his destiny, Or weene by warning to avoyd 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 powi-e of fleshly arrae ! His mother bad him wemens love to hate, For she of womans force did feare no harme ; So weening to have arm'd him, she did quite disarme. This was that woman, this that deadly wownd. That Proteus prophecide should him dismay ; The which his mother vainely did expownd To be hart-wownding love, which should assay To bring her sonne unto his last decay. So tickle be the termes of mortall state And full of subtile sophismes, which doe play With double sences, and with false debate, T' approve the unknowen pm-pose of eternal! fate. Too trew the famous Marinell it fownd ; Who, through late triall, on that Wealthy Strond Inglorious now hes in sencelesse swo^vnd, Through heavy stroke of Britomartis bond. Which when his mother deare did understond, And heavy tidings heard, whereas she playd Amongst her watry sisters by a pond, Gathering sweete daflfadillyes, to have made Gay girlonds from the sun their forheads fayr to shade ; XXX. Eftesoones both floAvres and girlonds far away She fiong, and her faire deawy lockes yrent ; To soiTow huge she turnd her former play. And gamesora merth to grievous dreriraent ; Shee threw herselfe downe on the continent, Ne word did speake, but lay as in a swo\vne, Whiles all her sisters did for her lament With yelhng outcries, and with shrieking sowne ; And every one did teare her girlond from her crowne. Soone as she up out of her deadly fitt Arose, she bad her charett to be brought ; And all her sisters, that with her did sitt. Bad eke attonce their charetts to be sought : Tho, full of bitter griefe and pensive thought, xxvr. 3. A lesson too too hard"] This is an old form of expression, to signify excefdhig. Todd. xxvn. 3. Thati] l''ate. Chubch. She to her wagon clombe ; clombe all the rest, And forth together went, with sorow fraught : The waves obedient to theyre beheast Them yielded ready passage, and their rage surceast. xxxn. Great Neptune stoode amazed at their sight. Whiles on his broad rownd backe they softly shd, And eke liimselfe moumd at tiieir mournful plight. Yet wist not what their wailing ment, yet did, For great compassion of theu' sorow, bid His mighty waters to them buxome bee : Eftesoones the roaring billowes still abid. And all the griesly monsters of the see Stood gaping at their gate, and wondred them to see, xxxm. A teme of dolphins raunged in aray Drew the smooth charett of sad Cymoeut ; They were all taught by Triton to obay To the long raynes at her commaundement : As swifte as swallowes on the waves they went, , That their brode flaggy finnes no fome did rcai-e, Ne bubling rowndell they behinde tliem sent ; The rest, of other fishes drawen weare. Which with their finny oai-s the swelling sea did sheare. XXXIV. Soone as they bene arriv'd upon the brim Of the Rich Strond, their charets they forlore, And let their temed fishes softly swim Along the ^'virgent of the fomy shore, [soi'e Least they then' finnes should bruze, and surbate Their tender feete upon the stony grownd : And comming to the place, where all in gore And cruddy blood enwallowed they fownd The lucklesse Marinell lying in deadly swownd. His mother swowned thrisf, and the tliird time Could scarce recovered bee out of her paine ; Had she not beene devoide of mortall slime, She should not then have bene relyv'd againe : But, soone as life recovered had the raine, Shee made so piteous mone and deare wayment, That the hard rocks could scarce from tears refraine : And all her sister nymphes with one consent Supphde her sobbing breaches with sad complement, XXXVI. " Deare image of myselfe," she sayd, " that is The wretched sonne of wretched mother borne, Is this thine high advauncement 1 ! is this Th' immortall name, with which thee yet unborne Thy grandsire Nereus promist to adorne 1 Now lyest thou of life and honor refte ; Now lyest thou a lumpe of earth forlorne ; Ne of thy late hfe memory is lefte ; Ne can thy uTevocable desteny bee wefte ! « Fond Proteus, father of false prophecis ! And they more fond that credit to thee give ! XXXV. 4. - XXXV. 6. - XXXVI. 9. Church. - relyv'd] Brought to life. Todd. - wayment,] Lamintation. Todd. - wefte !] Waved, avoided, removed. MNTO IV.] THE FAERIE QUEENE. 149 Not this the worke of womans handywis, That so deepe womid through these deare mem- bers drive. I feared love ; but they that love doe hve ; But they that dye, doe nether love nor hate : Nath'lesse to thee thy folly I forgive ; And to myselfe, and to acciu'sed fate, The guilt I doe ascribe : deaxe wisedom bought too late I XXXVIII. " ! what availes it of immortall seed To beene ybredd and never borne to dye 1 Farre better I it deeme to die with speed Then waste in woe and waylfull miserye : Who dyes, the utmost dolor doth abye ; But who that lives, is lefte to waile Ins losse : So hfe is losse, and death fehcity : [crosse Sad hfe worse then glad death ; and greater To see frends grave, then dead the grave selfe to engrosse. XXXIX. " But if the heavens did his days envie, And my short blis mahgne ; yet mote they well Thus much afford me, ere that he did die. That the diTn eies of my deare Marinell I mote have closed, and binn bed farewell, Sith other offices for mother meet They would not graunt Yett ! maulgre them, farewell, my sweetest Sweet! Farewell, my sweetest sonne, sith we no more shall meet ! " Thus when they all had sorowed their fill. They softly gau to search his griesly wownd : And, that they might him handle more at will. They him disarmd ; and, spredding on the grownd Their watchet mantles frindgd with silver rownd, They softly wipt away the gelly blood From th' orifice ; which having well upbownd. They pourd in soveraine bahne and nectar good. Good both for erthly med'cine and for heveuly food. XLI. Tho, when the liUy-handed Liagore (This Liagore whilome had learned skill In leaches craft, by great Apolloes lore, Sith her whilome upon high Pmdus hiU He loved, and at last her wombe did fiU With hevenly seed, whereof wise Pseon sprong,) Did feele his pulse, shee knew there staied still Some litle Ufe his feeble sprites emong ; Which to his mother told, despeyre she from her flong. XL II. Tho, up him taking in their tender hands, They easely unto her charett beare : Her feme at her commaundement quiet stands, Whiles they the corse into her wagon reare, And strowe with flowres the lamentable beare : Then all the rest iuto their coehes dim, And through the brackish waves their passage sheare ; abye ;] Endure, or svjffer. Todd. - maligne ;] Grudge, or oppose / a verb xiocvm. 5. XXXIX. 2. ■ o — -J - ---.7-. — . . formed from the French feminioe adjective maligne. Todd. ;x^. 5. -iratchet mantles'} The word uiatchet was formerly common for blue. Todd. Upon great Neptmies necke they softly swim, And to her watry chamber swiftly carry him. Deepe in the bottome of the sea, her bowre Is built of hollow billowes heaped hye. Like to thicke clouds that threat a stormy showre. And vauted all mthin like to the skye. In which the gods doe dwell eternally : There they him laide in easy couch well dight ; And sent in haste for Tryphon, to apply Salves to his wounds, and medicines of might : For Tryphon of sea-gods the soveraine leach is hight. The whiles the nymphes sitt all about him rownd. Lamenting his mishap and heavy phght ; And ofte his mother, vowing his wide wownd, Cm'sed the hand that did so deadly smight Her dearest sonne, her dearest harts delight : But none of all those curses overtooke The warlike Maide, th' ensaniple of that might ; But fayrely well shee thryvd, and well did brooke Her noble deedes, ne her right course for ought forsooke. Yet did false Archimage her still pm'sew. To bring to passe his mischievous intent. Now that he had her singled from the crew Of courteous Knights, the Prince and Fary gent. Whom late in chace of Beauty excellent Shee lefte, pursewing that same foster strong ; Of whose fowle outrage they impatient. And full of firy zele, him followed long. To reskew her from shame, and to revenge her wrong. XLVI. Through thick and thin, through mountains and through playns, Those two great Champions did attonce pursew The fearefull Damzell with incessant payns ; Who from them fled, as Ught-foot hare from vew Of hunter swifte and sent of howndes trew. At last they came imto a double way ; Where, doubtfuU which to take, her to reskew, Themselves they did dispart, each to assay. Whether more happy were to win so goodly pray. But Timias, the Princes gentle Squyre, That Ladies love unto his Lord forlent. And with proud envy and indignant yre After that wicked foster fiercely went : So beene they Three three sondry wayes ybent : But fayrest fortune to the Prince befell ; Whose chaunce it was, that soone he did repent, To ta,ke that way in which that Damozell Was fledd afore, affraid of him as feend of hell. xivm. At last of her far off he gained vew. Then gan he freshly pricks his fomy steed, And ever as he nigher to her drew. xLTii. 1. But Timias, the Princes gentle Sgut/re, That Ladies love unto his Lord forlent,] But Timias, the Squire of Prince Arthur, had given up, be/ore lent, that Lady unto his Lord. It should be therefore /orelent. Upton. 150 THE FAERIE QUEENE. [book III. So evermore he did increase his speed, And of each turning still Icept wary heed : Alowd to her he oftentimes did call To doe away vaine doubt and needlesse dreed : FuU myld to her he spake, and oft let fall Many meeke wordes to stay and comfort her with- aU. XLTX. But nothing might relent her hasty flight ; So deepe the deadly feare of that foule swaine Was earst impressed in her gentle spright : Like as a fearefuU dove, which through the raine Of the wide ayi'e her way does cut amaine. Having farre off espyde a tassell gent, Which after her his nimble winges doth straine, Doubleth her hast for feare to bee for-hent. And with her pineons cleaves the hquid firmament. With no lesse hast, and eke with no lesse dreed. That fearefuU Ladie fledd from him that ment To her no eviU thought nor evill deed ; Yet former feare of being fowly shent Carried her forward with her first intent : And though, oft looking backward, well she Herselfe freed from that foster insolent, [vewde And that it was a Knight which now her sewde. Yet she no lesse the Knight feard then that Villein rude. His uncouth shield and straunge armes her dlsmayd. Whose Uke in Faery Lond were seldom seene ; That fast she from him fledd, no lesse afrayd Then of wilde beastes if she had chased beene : Yet he her foUowd still with corage keene So long, that now the golden Hesperus Was mounted high in top of heaven sheene. And warnd his other brethren ioyeous To light their blessed lamps in loves eternall hous. All suddeinly dim wox the dampish ayre. And griesly shadowes covered heaven bright, That now with thousand starres was decked fayre : Which when the Prince beheld, a lothfull sight, And that perforce, for want of longer light. He mote surceasse his suit and lose the hope Of his long labour ; he gan fowly wyte His wicked fortune that had turnd aslope. And cursed Night that reft from him so goodly scope. LTir. Tho, when her wayes he could no more descry. But to and fro at disaventure strayd ; Like as a ship, whose lodestar suddeinly Covered with clouds her pilott had dismayd ; xLix. 1. relent] Slacken or remiU Todd. XL[s. 4. raine] Region. Church. xLix. 6. . a tassell gent,] Tassell is the male of the 'gosshatvk. It should be written tercel or iierceU from the Italian, terzuolo : which name it is said to have obtained, because it is a tierce or third less than the female. Todd. xLix. 8. for-hent,] that is, taken before she can escape^ Upton. £,, d. which now her sewde,] Which no rt pursued her. Fr. suivre. Todd. LI. 1. Hi5\mcouth shield^ For it was covered with a veil. Upton. Lii. 9. so goodly scope.'\ So fair a prospect. Chuiich. His wearisome pursuit perforce he stayd. And from his loftie steed dismounting low Did let him forage : dowue himselfe he layd Upon the grassy ground to sleepe a throw ; The cold earth was his couch, the hard Steele his pilldw. LTV. But gentle Sleepe envyde liim any rest ; Instead thereof sad sorow and disdaine Of his hai'd hap did vexe his noble brest. And thousand Fancies bett his ydle brayne With their hght wings, the sights of semblants Oft did he wish that Lady faire mote bee [vaine : His Faery Q,ueene, for whom he did complaine ; Or that his Faery Q,ueene were such as shee : And ever hasty Night he blamed bitterlie : " Night ! thou foule mother of annoyaunce sad, Sister of heavie Death, and nom-se of Woe, Which wast begot in heaven, but for thy bad And brutish shape thrust downe to hell below, Where, by the grim floud of Cocytus slow. Thy dwelHng is in Herebus black hous, (Black Herebus, thy husband, is the foe Of all the gods,) where thou ungratious Halfe of tliy dayes doest lead in horrour hideous ; Lvr. « What had th' Eternall Maker need of thee The world in his continuall course to keepe. That doest all thinges deface, ne lettest see The beautie of his worke \ Indeed in sleepe The slouthfull body that doth love to steepe ^ His lustlesse limbes, and drowne his baser mind, Doth praise thee oft, and oft from Stygian deepe CaUes thee his goddesse, in his errour blind. And great dame Natures handmaide chearing every kind. Lvri. " But well I wote that to an heavy hart Thou art the roote and nourse of bitter cares, Breeder of new, renewer of old smarts : Instead of rest thou lendest rayling teares ; Instead of sleepe thou sendest troublous feares And dreadfull visions, in the which ahve The dreary image of sad Death appeares : So from the wearie spirit thou doest drive Desired rest, and men of happinesse deprive. « Under thy mantle black there hidden lye Light-shonning Thefte, and traitorous Intent, Abhorred Bloodshed, and vile Felony, ShamefuU Deceipt, and Daunger imminent, Fowle Horror, and eke helUsh Dreriment : All these I wote in thy protection bee. And light doe shonue, for feare of being shent : For hght ylike is loth'd of them and thee ; And all, that lewdnesse love, doe hate the light to see. LIX. " For Day discovers all dishonest wayes. And sheweth each thing as it is in deed : The prayses of High God he faire displa,yes, LHi. 8. a throw ;] A short space, a little while. Church. Lvn. 4. rayling teares;"] Tears trickling down. Todd. TiNTO v.] THE FAERIE QUEENE. 151 And His large boimtie rightly doth areed : Dayes dearest children be the blessed seed Which Darknesse shall subdue and heaven win : Truth is his daughter ; he her first did breed Most sacred Virgin without spot of sinne : Our life is day ; but death with darknesse doth begin. " 0, when will Day then tume to me againe, And bring with him his long-expected light ! Titan ! hast to reare thy ioyous waine ; Speed thee to spred abroad thy beames bright. And chace away this too long Ungring Night ; Chace her away, from whence she came, to hell : She, she it is, that hath me done despight : There let her with the damned spirits dwell. And yield her rowme to Day, that can it goveme well." Thus did the Prince that wearie night ontwoare In restlesse anguish and unquiet paine ; And earely, ere the Morrow did upreare His deawy head out of the ocean maine. He up arose, as halfe in great disdaine, And clombe unto his steed : So forth he went With heavy looke and lumpish pace, that plaiue In him bewraid great grudge and maltalent : His steed eke seemd t' apply his steps to his intent. CANTO V. Prince Arthur hears of Florimell: Three fosters Timlas wound ; Belphcehe findes him almost dead, ind reaieth out of swownd. Wonder it is to see in diverse mindes How diversly Love doth his pageaunts play. And shewes his powre in variable kindes : The baser wit, whose ydle thoughts alway Are wont to cleave unto the lowly clay. It stirreth up to sensuall desire. And in lewd slouth to wast his carelesse day ; But in brave sprite it kindles goodly fire. That to all higli desert and honour doth aspire. Ne sufiFereth it uncomely Idlenesse In his free thought to build her sluggish nest ; Ne suffereth it thought of ungentlenesse Ever to creepe into his noble brest ; But to the highest and the worthiest Lifteth it up that els would lowly fall : It lettes not fall, it lettes it not to rest ; It lettes not scarse this Prince to breath at all. But to his first poursuit him forward still doth call: nr. Who long time wandred through the forest wyde To finde some issue thence ; till that at last He met a Dwarfe that seemed terrifyde With some late perill which he hardly past. Or other accident which him aghast ; Of whom he asked, whence he lately came. And whether now he travelled so fast : -maltalent:] Jtl-wiU, oi spleen, Todd. Forsore he swat, and, ronning through that same Thicke forest, was bescracht and both his feet nigh lame. IV. Panting for breath, and almost out of hart. The Dwarfe liim answerd ; " Sir, ill mote I stay To tell the same : I lately did depart From Faery Court, where I have many a day Served a gentle Lady of great sway And high accompt throughout all Elfin Land, Who lately left the same, and tooke this way : Her now I seeke ; and if ye understand Which way she fared hath, good Sir, tell outof hand." " What mister wight," saide he, " and how arayd ? " " Royally clad," quoth he, " in Cloth of gold. As meetest may beseeme a noble mayd ; Her fau'e lockes m rich circlet bs enrold, A fayrer wight did never siume behold ; And on a palfrey rydes more white then snow. Yet she herselfe is whiter manifold ; The surest signe, whereby ye may her know, Is, that she is the fairest wight ahve, I trow." "Now certes, Swaine," saide he, "such one,I weene. Fast flying tlirougli tliis forest from her fo, A foule ill-favoured foster, I have seene ; Herselfe, well as I might, I reskewd tho. But could not stay ; so fast she did foregoe. Carried away with wings of speedy feare." [woe, " Ah ! dearest God," quoth he, " that is great And wondrous ruth to all that shall it heare : But can ye read. Sir, how I may her finde, or where ? " TIT. " Perdy me lever were to weeten that," Saide he, " then ransome of the richest Knight, Or all the good that ever yet I gat : But froward fortune, and too forward night. Such happinesse did, maulgre, to me spight. And fro me reft both hfe and light attone. But, Dwarfe, aread what is that Lady bright That through this forrest wandreth thus alone ; For of her errour straunge I have great ruth and " That Ladie is," quoth he, " whereso she bee. The bountiest Virgin and most debonaire That ever living eye, I weene, did see ; Lives none tiiis day that may with her compare In stedfast chastitie and vertue rare. The goodly ornaments of beauty bright ; And is ycleped Florimell the fayre. VI. 5, . 6tay ;] Stop or catch. So, in St. 38, stayd, i. e. stopt or caught. Church. VII. 4. loo forward nig}it'\ The night coming on too fast. Chukch. VII. 5. maulgre,] Mr. Upton, in hisGlossary, inter- prets maulgre by the following paraphrase of this line: " Such happinesse did maulgre to me spiglit," that is, Pid spight to me much against my will. But, by Spenser's pointing of the passage, as I have printed it, I should ima- gine maulgre to be an adverb of imprecation, Curse on it, Todd. VII. 9. For of her errour straunge &c.] That is. For I am greatly concerned that she should wander in such a manner. Errour, Lat. error, wandering. Churcw- 152 THE FAERIE QUEENE. [book III. Faire Florimell beloy'd of many a Knight, Yet she loves none but one, that Marinell is hight ; " A Sea-nymplies sonne, that Marinell is hight, Of my deare Dame is loved dearely well ; In other none, but him, she sets delight ; All her delight is set on Marinell ; But he sets nought at all by Florimell : For Ladies love his mother long ygoe Did liim, they say, forwarne through sacred spell : But fame now flies, that of a forreine foe He is yslaine, which is the ground of all our woe. X. " Five daies there be since he (they say) was slaine. And fowre since Florimell the Court forwent. And vowed never to return© againe Till him aUve or dead she did invent. Therefore, faire Sir, for lore of Itnighthood gent And honour of trew Ladies, if ye may By your good counsell, or bold hardiment, Or succour her, or me direct the way. Do one or other good, I you most humbly pray : " So may ye gaine to you full great renowme Of all good Ladies tlirough the worlde so wide. And haply in her hart finde highest rowme Of whom ye seeke to be most magnifide ! At least eternall meede shall yoii abide." To whom the Prince ; " Dwarfe, comfort to thee take ; For, till thou tidings leame what her betide, I here avow thee never to forsalie : 111 weares he armes, that nill them use for Ladies salce." xri. So with the Dwarfe he back retoum'd againe. To seeke his Lady, wliere he mote her finde ; But by the way he greatly gan complaine The want of his good Squire late left behinde. For whom he wondrous pensive grew in minde. For doubt of daunger which mote him betide ; For him he loved above all mankinde, Having him trew and faithfuU ever tride, And bold, as ever Squyre that waited by Knights side: xni. Who all this wliile fuU hardly was assayd Of deadly daunger which to him betidd : For, whiles his Lord pursewd that noble Mayd, After that foster fowle he fiercely ridd To bene avenged of the shame he did To that faire DamzeU : Him he chaced long [hid Through the thicke woods wherein he would have His shamefull head from his avengement strong, And oft him tlireatned death for his outrageous wrong. XIV. Nathlesse the villein sped himselfe so well. Whether through swiftness of his speedie beast, Or Imowledge of those woods where he did dwell, IX. 7. Did Mm, then sap, forwarne] It should be /ore- taarne. So just below, "And fowre since Florimell the QOMxt forwent i" It should have been/orewent, i. e. did forego. Upton. X. 4. invents] Find. A Latinism, t»u«ni(7. Todd. xii. 6. For doubt") Fear. Todd. That shortly he from daunger wag releast, And out of sight escaped at the least ; Yet not escaped from the devf reward Of his bad deedes, which daily he increast, Ne ceased not, till him oppressed hai'd The heavie plague that for such leachours is prepard. For, soone as he was vanisht out of sight. His coward courage gan emboldned bee. And cast t' avenge him of that fowle despight Which he had borne of his bold enimee : Tho to his brethren came, (for they were three Ungratious children of one gracelesse syre,) And unto them complayned how that he Had used beene of that foole-hardie Squyre : So them with bitter words he stird to bloodie yre. Forthwith themselves with their sad instruments Of spoyle and murder they gan arme byhve. And with him foorth into the forrest went To wreake the wrath, which he did earst revive In there sterne brests, on him which late did drive Their brother to reproch and shamefull flight : For they had vow'd that never he ahve Out of that forest should escape their might ; Vile rancour their rude harts had fild with such despight. xvir. Within that wood there was a covert glade, Foreby a naiTow foord, to them well knowne. Through which it was uneath for wight to wade ; And now by fortune it was overflowne : By that same way they knew that Squyre un- knovme Mote algates passe ; forthy themselves they set There in await with thicke woods overgrowne. And all the while their malice they did whet With cruell threats his passage through the ford to let. xvm. It fortuned, as they devized had. The gentle Squyre came ryding that same way, Unweeting of their wile and treason bad. And tlirough the ford to passen did assay ; But that fierce foster, which late fled away, Stoutly foorth stepping on the further shore, Him boldly bad his passage there to stay. Till he had made amends, and full restore For all the damage which he had him doeu afore. With that, at him a quiv'ring dart he threw With so fell force, and villeinous despite. That through his haberieon the forlvehead flew. And through the linked mayles empierced quite, But had no powre in his soft flesh to bite : That stroke the hardy Squire did sore displease, But more that him he could not come to smite ; For by no meanes the high banke he could sease. But labour'd long in that deepe ford with yaine disease. xvrr. 9. to let.] To hinder. Church. xvni. 8. ■ restore] TjBed as a substantive for restO' ration or restitution. Church. XIX. 9 disease.] Uneasiness. Fr.desaise. Todd. CANTO T.J THE FAERIE QUEENE. 1B3 And still the foster witli his long bore-speare Him kept from landing at his wished will : Anone one sent out of the thicket neare A cruell shaft headed witli deadly ill. And fethered wth an unlucky quill ; The wicked Steele stayd not till it did light In his left thigh, and deepely did it thrill : Exceeding griefe that wound in him empight, But more thatwith his foeshecouldnot come to fight. At last, through wrath and vengeaunce, making way He on the bancke arryvd \vith mickle payne ; Where the tliird brother him did sore assay. And drove at him with all his might and mayne A forest-bill, which both his hands did strayne ; But warily he did avoide the blow. And with lus speare requited him agayne. That both his sides were thrilled with the throw. And a large streame of bloud out of the womid did flow. xxn. He, tombling downe, with gnashing teeth did bite The bitter earth, and bad to lett him in Into tlie balefull house of endlesse night. Where wicked ghosts doe waile their former sin. Tho gan the battaile freshly to begin ; For nathemore for that spectacle bad Did th' other two their ciniell vengeaunce blin, But both attonce on both sides him bestad. And load upon him layd, his life for to have had. Tho when that villayn he aviz'd, which late Affrighted had the fairest Florimell, Full of fiers fury and indignant hate To bim he turned, and with rigor fell Smote him so rudely on the pannikell. That to the clun he clefte his head in twaine : Downe on the ground his carkas groveUng fell ; His sinfull sowle with desperate disdaine Out of her fleshly ferme fled to .the place of paine. XXIV. That seeing, now the only last of three Who with that wicked shafte him wounded had, Trembhng with horror, (as that did foresee Tlie fearefull end of his avengement sad, [bad,) Through which he follow should his brethren His bootelesse bow in feeble hand upcaught. And therewith shott an arrow at the Lad ; Which fayntly fluttrmg scarce hishehnet raught. And glauncing fel to ground, but him annoyed naught. XXV. With that, he would have fled into the wood ; But Timias him lightly overhent, Right as he entring was into the flood. And strooke at him with force so violent. That headlesse him into the foord he sent ; The eareas with the streame was carried doivne. But th' head fell backeward on the continent ; So mischief fel upon the meaners crowne ; They three be dead with shame ; the Squire lives with renowne : XXVT. He lives, but takes small ioy of his renowne ; For of that cruell wound he bled so sore. That from his steed he fell in deadly swowne ; Yet still the blood forth gusht in so great store, That he lay wallowd all in his o^vne gore. Now God thee keepe ! thou gentlest Squu-e alive, Els shall thy loving Lord thee see no more ; But both of comfort him thou shalt deprive. And eke thyselfe of honor which thou didst atchive. Providence hevenly passeth hving thought. And doth for wretched mens reliefe make way ; For loe ! great grace or fortune thether brought Comfort to him that comfortlesse now lay. In those same woods ye well remember may How that a noble hunteresse did wonne, Shee, that base Braggadochio did affray. And made him fast out of the forest ronne ; Belphoebe was her name, as faire as Phoebus surjne. XXVITI. Shee on a day, as she pursewd the chace Of some wilde beast, which with her arrowea keene She wounded had, the same along did trace By tract of blood, which she had freshly scene To have besprinckled all the grassy greene ; By the great pe'rsue which she there perceav'd, Well hoped shee the beast engor'd had beene, And made more haste the life to have bereav'd : But ah ! her expectation greatly was deceav'd. xxrx. Shortly she came whereas that woefull Squire With blood deformed lay in deadly swownd ; In Whose faire eyes, like lamps of quenched fire. The christall humor stood congealed rownd ; His locks, like faded leaves fallen to grownd. Knotted with blood in bounches rudely ran ; And his sweete lips, on which before that stownd The bud of youth to blossome faire began, Spoild of their rosy red were woxen pale and wan. xxn. 7 blin,] Cease, or give over. Todd. 3txiii. 5. - pannikell,] The brain-pan, the sbuU, the crown of the head. Ital. jpannicula. Fr. pannicule. Upton. ,m[,,_ g, flesldij ferme] Farm, here perhaps in the oeijce of loilsiing-house. Sax. )-eottm. hnspiUum. Todd. Saw never Hving eie more heavy sight, That could have made a rocke of stone to rew. Or rive in twaine : which when that Lady bright. Besides all hope, with meltuig eies did vew. All suddeinly abasht shee chaunged hew. And with steme horror backward gan to start : But, when shee better him beheld, shee grew FuU of soft passion and unwonted smart : The point of pitty perced through her tender hart. XXXI. Meekely shee bowed downe, to weete if life Yett in his frosen members did remaine ; And, feeling by his pulses beatmg rife That the weake sowle her seat did yett retaine, Shee cast to comfort him with busy paine : XXVIII. 6. persuel It seems to be a word of his own, and is softer than purtitit. Church. XXX. 4. Besides all hope,'} Having no hopes that he >va.» alive. Church t54 THE FAERIE QUEENE. [book III. His double-folded ueeke she reard upright, And rubd his temples and each trembling vaine ; His mayled haberieon she did undight, And from his head his heavy burganet did hght. xxxn. Into the woods thenceforth in haste shee went, To seeke for hearbes that mote him remedy ; For shee of herbes had great intendiment, Taught of the nymphe which from her infancy Her nourced had in trew nobility : There, whether yt divine tobacco were, Or panachsea, or polygony, Shefownd, and brought it to her patient deare. Who al this while lay bleding out his hart-blood The soveraine weede betwixt two marbles plaine Shee po^vuded small, and did in peeces bruze ; And then atweene her lilly handes twaine Into his wound the juice thereof did scruze ; And round about, as she could well it uze. The flesh therewith she suppled and did steepe, T' abate all spasme and soke the swelling bruzei; And, after having searcht the intuse deepe. She with her scarf did bind the wound, from cold to keepe. 3CXX1V. By this he had sweet life reour'd agayne. And, groning inly deepe, at last his eies. His watry eies drizling like deawy rayne, He up gan lifte toward the azure skies, From whence descend all hopelesse remedies: Therewith he sigh'd ; and, turning him aside. The goodly Maide full of divinities And gifts of heavenly grace he by him spide. Her bow and gilden quiver lying him beside. XXXV. " Mercy ! deare Lord," said he, " what grace is this That thou hast shewed to me sinfull wight. To send thine Angell from her bowre of bhs To comfort me in my distressed plight ! Angell, or goddesse doe I call thee right ? What service may I doe unto thee meete. That hast from darkenes me returnd to light. And with thy he venly salves and med'cines sweete Hast di-est my sinfull wounds ! I kisse thy blessed feete." XXXVI. Thereat she blushing said ; "Ah ! gentle Squire, Nor goddesse I, nor angell ; but the mayd And daughter of a'woody nymphe, desire No service but thy safety and ayd ; Which if thou gaine, I shal be well apayd. Wee mortall wights, whose lives and fortimes bee To commun accidents stil open layd. Are bownd with commun bond of frailtee. To succor wretched wights whom we captived see." xxxvn. By this her damzells, which the former chace Had undertaken after her, arryv'd. xsxii, 3. For shee of herbes had great frfcendiment,] Ital. intendimento, intendment, understanding. Upton. XXXIII. 4. scruze ;] Squeeze- Perhaps from screw. Todd. XXXJ17. & the intuse dcepet'] The contusion deep. UnoN. As did Belphoebe, in the bloody place. And thereby deemd the beast had bene depriv'd Of life, whom late their Ladies arow ryv'd : Forthy the bloody tract they foUowd fast. And every one to ronne the swiftest stryv'd ; But two of them the rest far overpast. And where their Lady was arrived at the last. XXXVTII. Where when they saw that goodly Boy with blood Defowled, and their Lady dresse his wownd. They wondred much ; and shortly understood How him in deadly cace their Lady fownd, And reskewed out of the heavy stownd. Eftsoones his warlike courser, which was strayd Farre in the woodes whiles that he lay in swownd. She made those damzels search; which being stayd. They did him set thereon, and forth with them con- vayd. XXXIX. Into that forest farre they thence liim led Where was their dwelling ; in a pleasant glade With mountaines rownd about environed And mightie woodes, which did the valley shade, And like a stately theatre it made Spreading itselfe into a spatious plaine ; And in the midst a little river plaide Eraongst the pumy stones, which seemd to plaine With gentle murmiire that his course they did re- straine. XL. Beside the same a dainty place there lay. Planted with mirtle trees and laureUs greene, In which the birds song many a lovely lay Of Gods high praise, and of their sweet loves teene. As it an earthly paradize had beene : In whose enclosed shadow there was pight A faire paviUon, scarcely to be scene. The which was al ^vithin most richly dight, That greatest princes Uving it mote well delight. XLI. Thether they brought that wounded Squyre, and layd In easie couch his feeble limbes to rest. He rested him awhile ; and then the Mayd His readie woimd with better salves new drest : Daily she dressed him, and did the best. His grievous hurt to guarish, that she might ; That shortly she his dolour hath redrest, And his foule sore reduced to faire plight : It she reduced, but himselfe destroyed quight. XUI. fooHsh physick, and unfruitfull paine, That heales up one, and makes another wound ! She his hurt thigh to him recurd againe. But hurt his hart, the which before was sound, Through an unwary dart which did rebownd From her faire eyes and gratious countenaunce. What bootes it him from death to be unbownd. To be captived in endlesse duraunce Of sorrow and despeyre without aleggeaunce ! Kh. 4. their loves sweet teene,] Sweet teens is pleas- ing uneasiness. Church. XLi. 6 guarish,] Heal. Fr. guirir. Church. XLii. 1. paine,] £a6our. Yy. peine. Church. XLii. 9. aleggeaunce !] Alleviation. Todd. CAHTO V.J THE FAERIE QUEENE. ISS Still as his wound did gatlier, and grow hole, So still his hart woxe sore, and health decayd : Madnesse to save a p.*irt, and lose the whole ! Still whenas he beheld the heavenly Mayd, Whiles daily playsters to his wownd she layd. So still his malady the more increast. The whiles her matchlesse heautie him dismayd. Ah God ! what other could he do at least, But love so fayre a Lady that his hfe releast I XLIV. Long while he strove in his corageous brest With reason dew the passion to subdew. And love for to dislodge out of his nest : Still when her excellencies he did vew. Her soveraine hountie and celestiall hew. The same to love he strongly was constraynd : But, when his meane estate he did revew, He from such hardy boldnesse was restraynd. And of his lucklesse lott and cruell love thus play nd ; " UnthankfuU wretch," said he, " is this the meed. With which her so verain mercy thou doest quight ? Thy hfe she saved by her gratious deed ; But thou doest weene with villeinous despight To blott her honour and her heavenly Ught : Dye ; rather dye then so disloyally Deeme of her high desert, or seeme so hght : Fayre death it is, to shonne more shame, to dy : Dye ; rather dy then ever love disloyally. " But if, to love, disloyalty it bee. Shall I then hate her that from deathes dore Me brought ? ah ! farre be such reproch fro mee ! What can I lesse doe then her love therefore, Sith I her dew reward cannot restore ? Dye ; rather dye, and dying doe her serve ; Dying her serve, and living her adore ; Thy Hfe she gave, thy life she doth deserve : Dye ; rather dye then ever from her service swerve. xLvrr. " But, foolish boy, what bootes thy service baee To her, to whom the hevens doe serve and sew ? Thou, a meane Squyre of meeke and lowly place ; She, hevenly borne and of celestiaU hew. How then ? of all Love taketh equall vew : And doth not Highest God vouchsafe to take The love and service of the basest crew ? If she will not ; dye meekly for her sake : Dye ; rather dye then ever so faire love forsake ?" xLvrjr. Thus warreid he long time against his will ; TiU that through weaknesse he was forst at last To yield himselfe unto the mightie Ul, Which, as a victour proud, gan ransack fast His inward partes, and all his entrayles wast. That neither blood in face nor hfe in hart It left, but both did quite drye up and blast ; As percing levin, which the inner part Of every thing consumes and calcineth by art. Which seeing fayre Belphcebe gan to feare Least that his woimd were inly well not heald, - grow hole,'} Sound, entire. Todd. Or that the wicked Steele empoysned were : Litle shoe weend that love he close conceald. "Yet stiU he wasted, as the snow congeald When the bright sunne his beams theron doth Yet never he his hart to her reveald ; [beat : But rather chose to dye for sorow great Then with dishonorable termes her to entreat. She, gracious Lady, yet no paines did spare To doe him ease, or doe him remedy : Many restoratives of vertues rare, And costly cordialles she did apply, To mitigate his stubborne malady : But that sweet cordiall, which can restore A love-sick hart, she did to him envy ; To him, and to all th' unworthy world forlore, She did envy that soveraine salve in secret store. The daintie rose, the daughter of her mome. More deare then Hfe she tendered, whose flowre The girlond of her honour did adome : Ne suffred she the middayes scorching powre, Ne the sharp northerne wind thereon to showre ; But lapped up her silken leaves most chayre, Whenso the froward skye began to lowre ; But, soone as calmed was the cristall ayre. She did it fayre dispred and let to florish fayre. Etemall God, in his almightie powre. To make ensample of his heavenly grace. In paradize whylome did plant this Flowre ; Whence he it fetcht out of her native place. And did in stocke of earthly flesh enrace. That mortall men her glory should admyre. In gentle Ladies breste and bounteous race Of woman-kind it fayrest Flowre doth spyre, Andbeareth fruit of honour and aU chast desyre. FajTe ympes of beautie, whose bright shining beames Adorue the world with like to heavenly light. And to your willes both royalties and reames Subdew, through conquest of your wondrous might ; With this fayre Flowre your goodly girlonds Of Chastity and Vertue virginaU, [digl't That shall embeUish more your beautie bright, And crowne your heades with heavenly coronall. Such as the Angels weare before God's tribunall ! To youre faire selves a faire ensample frame Of this faire Virgin, this Belphosbe fayre ; To whom, in perfect love and spotlesse fame Of Chastitie, none living may compayre : Ne poysnous Envy iustly can empayre The prayse of her fresh-flowring Maydenhead ; Forthy she standeth on the highest stayre Of th' honorable stage of womanhead. That Ladies all may foUow her ensample dead. HI, 8. spyre,] Shoot forth. Com is said to spire, when it is in ear. Church. i,v. 9. her ensample dead.'] That is, the eiawple of her de.ul . Church, J66 THE FAERIE QUEENE. [BOOK HI In so great prayse of stedfast Chastity Nathlesse she was so courteous and kynde, Tempred with Grace and goodly Modesty, That seemed those two vertues strove to fynd The higher place in her heroick mynd : So striving each did other more augment, And both encreast the prayse of womankynde. And both encreast her beautie excellent : So all did make in her a perfect complement. CANTO VI. The Birth of fayre Belpboehe and Of Amnrett ia told; The Gardins of Adooia fraught With pleasures luauifold. Well may I weene, faire Ladies, all this while Ye wonder how this noble DamozeU So great perfections did in her compile, Sith that in salvage forests she did dwell. So farre from Court and royall Citadell, The great sclioolmaistresse of all Courtesy : Seemeth that such wilde woodes should far expell All civile usage and gentility. And gentle sprite deforme with rude rusticity. But to this fau'e Eelphoebe in her Berth The hevens so favorable were and free, Looldng with myld aspect upon the earth In th' horoscope of her na,tivitee. That all the gifts of gr-ace and chastitee On her they poured forth of plenteous home : love laught on Venus from his soverayne see. And Phoebus with faire beames did her adorne. And all the Graces rockt her cradle being borne. Her Berth was of the wombe of morning dew. And her conception of the ioyous prime ; And all her whole creation did her shew Pure and unspotted from all loathly crime That is ingenerate in fleshly slime. So was this Virgin borne, so was she bred ; So was she trayned up from time to time In aU chaste vertue and true bountihed. Till to her dew perfection she were ripened, IV. Her mother was the feire Chrysogonee, The daughter of Amphisa, who by race A Faerie was, yborne of high degree : She bore Belphoebe ; she bore in like cace Fayre Amoretta in the second place : These two were twinnes, and twixt them two did The heritage of all celestiall grace ; [share That all the rest it seemd they robbed bare Of boimty, and of beautie, and all vertues rare. It were a goodly storie to declare By what straunge accident faire Chrysogone Conceiv'd these infants, and how them she bare LV. 9. — ter. Lat. a perfect complement,'] A complete charac- complementum^ Church. In this wilde forrest wandring all alone. After she had nine moneths fulfild and gone : For not as other wemens commune brood They were enwombed in the sacred throne Of her chaste bodie ; nor witli commune food, As otlaer wemens babes, they sucked vitall blood : But wondrously they were begot and bred Through influence of th' hevens fruitfuU ray, As it in antique bookes is mentioned. It was upon a sommers shinie day, When Titan faire his beames did display. In a fresh fountaine, far from all mens vew. She bath'd her brest the boyling heat t'allay ; She bath'd with roses red and violets blew. And all the sweetest flowers that in the forrest grew : Till faint through yrkesome weai'ines adowne Upon the grassy ground herselfe she layd To sleepe, the whiles a gentle slombring swowne Upon her fell all naked bare dispiayd : The sunbeames bright upon her body playd. Being through former bathing moUifide, And pierst into her wombe ; where they embayd With so sweet sence and secret powre unspide. That in her pregnant flesh they shortly fructifide. Miraculous may seeme to him that reades So straunge ensample of conception ; But reason teacheth that the fruitfull seades Of all tilings living, through impression Of the sunbeames in moyst complexion. Doe life conceive and quickned are by kynd : So, after Nilus inundation. Infinite shapes of creatures men doe fynd Informed in the mud on which the sunne hath shynd. K. Great father he of generation Is rightly cald, th' authour of life and light ; And his faire sister for creation Ministreth matter fit, which, tempred right With heate and humour, breedes the living wight. So sprong these twinnes in womb of Chrysogone ; Yet wist she nought thereof, but sore affright Wondred to see her belly so upblone. Which stiU increast fill she her terme had fall out- gone. X. Whereof conceiving shame and foule disgrace, Albe her guUtlesse conscience her cleard. She fled into the wildernesse a space. Till that unweeldy burden she had reard, And shund dishonor which as death she feard : Where, wearie of long traveill, downe to rest Herselfe she set, and comfortably cheard ; There a sad cloud of sleepe her overkest. And seized every sence with sorrow sore opprest. It fortuned, faire Venus having lost HerUttle sonne, the winged god of love. Who for some light displeasure, which him croat, Was from her fled as flit as ayery dove. And left her blisfull bowre of ioy above j (So from her often he had fled away. CANTO TI.] THE FAERIE QUEENE. 167 When she for ought him sharpely did reprove, And wandred in the world in straunge aray, Disguiz'd in thousand shapes, that none might him bewi-ay ;) xn. Him for to seeke, she left her heavenly hous. The house of goodly formes and faire aspects, Whence all the world derives the glorious Features of beautie,and all shapes select, [deckt ; With which High God his workmanship hath And searched e verie way through which his wings Had borne him, or his tract she mote detect : She promist kisses sweet, and sweeter thuigs. Unto the man that of him tydings to her brings. First she him sought in Court, where most he us'd Whylome to haunt, but there she found him not ; But many there she fo>md which sore accus'd His falshood, and with fowle infamous blot His cruell deedes and wicked wyles did spot : Ladies and Lordes she every where mote heare Complayning, how with his empoysned shot Their wofull harts he woimded had whyleare. And so had left them languishing twixt hope and feare. XIV. She then tlie Cities sought from gate to gate, And everie one did aske. Did he him see i And everie one her answerd, that too late He had him scene, and felt the crueltee Of his sharpe dartes and whot artiUeree : And every one threw forth reproches rife Of his mischievous deedes, and sayd that hee Was the disturber of all cirill life, The enimy of peace, and authour of all strife. XV. Then in the Countrey she abroad him sought. And in the rurall cottages inquir'd ; Where also many plaintes to her were brought. How he their heedelesse harts with love had fir'd. And his false venim through their veines inspir'd ; And eke the gentle shepheard swaynes, which sat Keeping their fleecy flockes as they were hyr'd, She sweetly heard complaine both how and what Her Sonne had to them doen ; yet she did smile thereat. XVI. But, when in none of all these she him got. She gan avize where els he mote him hyde : At hifit she her bethought that she had not Yet sought the salvage Woods and Forests wyde, In which full many lovely Nymphes abyde ; Mongst whom might be that he did closely lye. Or that the love of some of them him tyde : Forthy she thether cast her course t' apply. To seai-ch the secret haunts of Dianes company. XVil. Shortly unto the wasteful! woods she came. Whereas she found the goddesse with her crew. After late chace of their embrewed game, Sitting beside a fountaine in a rew ; Some of them washing with the hquid dew ^vii, 3. embrewed game,'} Game wet with blood. Upton. xvn. 4. in a rew ;] Row. Upton. From off their dainty limbs the dusty sweat And soyle, which did deforme theu* lively hew ; Others lay shaded from the scorching heat ; The rest upon- her person gave attendance great. She, having hong upon a bough ou high Her bow and painted quiver, had unlaste Her silver buskins from her nimble thigh. And her lanck loynes ungirt, and brests unbraste. After her heat the breathing cold to taste ; Her golden lockes, that late in tresses bright Embreaded were for hindring of her haste, Now loose about her shoulders hong undight. And were with sweet Ambrosia all besprinckled Ught. XIX. Soone as she Venus saw behinde her backe. She was asham'd to be so loose surpriz'd ; And woxe halfe wroth against her damzels slacke^ That had not her thereof before aviz'd. But suffred her so carelesly disguiz'd Be overtaken ; Soone her garments loose Upgath'riiig, in her bosome she compriz'd Well as she might, and to the goddesse rose ; Whiles all her nymphes did Uke a, gu-lond her enclose. Goodly she gan faire Cytherea greet, And shortly asked her what cause her brought. Into that wildemesse for her unmeet, [fraught ; From her sweete bowres and beds with pleasures That suddein chaung she straung adventure thought. To whom halfe weeping she thus answered ; That she her dearest sonne Ciipido sought. Who in his frowardnes from her was fled ; That she repented sore to have him angered. Thereat Diana gan to smile, in scorne Of her vaine playnt, and to her scoffing sayd ; " Great pitty sure that ye be so forlorne Of your gay sonne, that gives you so good ayd To your disports ; ill mote ye bene apayd !" But she was more engrieved, and replide ; " Faire sister, ill beseemes it to upbrayd A doleful! heart with so disdainful! pride ; The like that mine may be your paine another tide. XXII. " As you in woods and wanton wildernesse Your glory sett to chace the salvage beasts ; So my dehght is all in ioyfulnesse. In beds, in bowi-es, in banckets, and in feasts : And ill becomes you, with your lofty creasts, To scorne the ioye that love is glad to seeke : We botli are bownd to follow heavens beheasts. And tend our charges with obeisaimce meeke : Spare, gentle sister, with reproch my paine to eeke ; XXIII. " And tell me if that ye my sonne have heard _ To lurke cmongst your nimphes in secret wize, xviii. 4 her lanck loynes'] Her slender waist. Church. xviri. 7. for hindring &c.] That they might not hinder. Church. 158 THE FAERIE QUEENE. [BOOK HI. Or keepe their cabins : much I am af5'eard Least he like one of them liimselfe disguize, And turne his aiTOwes to tiieir exercize : So may he long himselfe full easie hide ; For he is faire, and fresh in face and guize As any nimphe ; let not it be envide." So saying every nimph fuH narrowly shee eide. But Phoebe there\vith sore was angered. And sharply saide ; " Goe, dame ; goe, seeke your boy. Where you him lately lefte, in Mars his bed : He comes not here ; we scorne his foolish ioy, Ne lend we leisure to his idle toy : But, if I catch him in this company, By Stygian lake I vow, whose sad annoy The gods doe dread, he dearly shall abye : Be clip his wanton wings that he no more shall flye." XXV. Whom whenas Venus saw so sore displeasd, Shee inly sory was, and gan relent What shee had said : so her shee soone appeasd With sugred words and gentle blandishment. Which as a fountaine from her sweete lips went And welled goodly forth, that in short space She was well pleasd, and forth her damzells sent Through all the woods, to search from place to place If any tract of him or tidings they mote trace. To search the god of love her nimphes she sent Throughout the wandring forest every where : And after them herselfe eke with her went To seeke the fugitive both farre and nere. So long they sought, till they arrived were In that same shady covert whereas lay Faire Crysogone in slombry traunce whilere ; Who in her sleepe (a wondrous thing to say) Unwares had borne two Babes as faire as springing day. XXVII. Unwares she them conceivd, unwares she bore : She bore withouten paine, that she conceiv'd Withouten pleasm-e ; ne her need implore Lucmaes aide : Which when they both perceiv'd They were through wonder nigh of sence berev'd. And gazing each on otiier nought bespake : At last they both agreed her seeming griev'd Out of her heavie swowne not to awake. But from her loving side the tender Babes to take. Up they them tooke, each one a Babe uptooke. And with them carried to be fostered : Dame Phoebe to a nymphe her Babe betooke To be upbrought in perfect Maydenhed, And, of herselfe, her name Belphcebe red : But Venus hers thence far away convayd. To be upbrought in goodly womanhed ; xxra. 8. let not it be envide.'] Be it no offence, or perhaps, as we usually say, You'll parrion me. Church. XXIV. 8. he dearly shall abye :] He shall suffer for it, shall 'pay dearly. Todd. XXVI. 2. Throughout the wandring foresC] That is, wan- dering throughout the forest Church. XXVIII. 3. betooke] Delivered. Todd. And, in her litle Loves stead which was strayd. Her Amoretta cald, to comfort her dismayd. She brought her to her ioyous Paradize Wher most she wonnes, when she on earth does So faire a place as nature can devize : [dwell, Whether in Paphos, or Cytheron hill. Or it in Gnidus bee, I wote not well ; But well I wote by ta*iall, that this same All other pleasaunt places doth excell. And called is, by her lost lovers name. The Gardia of Adonis, far i-enowmd by fame. In that same Gardin all the goodly flowres. Wherewith dame Nature doth her beautify And decks the girlonds of her paramoures. Are fetcht : There is the first seminary Of all things that are borne to hve and dye. According to their kynds. Long worke it were Here to account the endlesse progeny Of all the weeds that bud and blossome there ; But so much as doth needmust needs be counted here. It sited was in fruitfull soyle of old. And gu-t in with two walls on either side ; The one of yron, the other of bright gold, Thatnone might thorough breake,nor overstrlde : And double gates it had which opened wide. By which both in and out men moten pas ; Th' one faire and fresh, the other old and di-ide : Old Genius the porter of them was. Old Genius, the which a double nature has. He letteth in, he letteth out to wend All that to come into the world desire : A thousand thousand naked babes attend About liim day and night, which doe require That he with fleshly weeds would them attire : Such as him hst, such as etei-nall fate Ordained hath, he clothes with sinfull mire, And sendeth forth to live in mortaU state. Till they agayn retm-ue backe by the hinder gate. XXXtll. After that they againe retoui'ned beene. They in that Gardin planted bee agayne. And grow afresh, as they had never seene Fleshly corruption nor mortallpayne : [remayne. Some thousand yeares so doen they there And then of him are clad with other hew. Or sent into the chaungefuU world agayne. Till thether they retoume where first they grew : So, like a wheele, arownd they ronne from old to xxxiv. Ne needs there gardiner to sett or sow. To plant or prune ; for of their owne accord All things, as they created were, doe grow. And yet remember well the Mighty Word Which first was spoken by th' Almighty Lord, That bad them to iticrease and multiply : Ne doe they need, with water of the ford XXX. 7- to account] To tell overt to number. Church CANTO Vl.J THE FAERIE QUEENE. 159 Or of the clouds, to moysten tlieir roots dry ; For in themselves eternall moisture tliey imply. Infinite shapes of creatures there are bred, And uncouth formes, which uone yet ever knew ; And every sort is in a sondi-y bed Sett by iteelfe, and ranekt in comely rew ; Some fitt for reasonable sowles t' iudew ; Some made for beasts, some made for birds to weare ; And all the fruitfull spawne of fishes hew In endlesse rancks along enraunged were. That seemd the ocean could not containe them there. XXXVI. Daily they grow, and daily forth are sent Into the world, it to replenish more ; Yet is the stocke not lessened nor spent. But stiU remaines in everlasting store As it at first created was of yore : For in the wide wombe of the world there lyes. In hatefull darknes and in deepe horrtfre. An huge eternall Chaos, which supplyes The substaunces of Natures fruitfuh progeuyes. xxxvrr. All things from thence doe their first being fetch. And borrow matter whereof they are made ; Which, whenas forme and feature it does ketch, Becomes a body, and doth then invade The state of life out of the griesly shade. That substaunce is eterne, and bideth so ; Ne, when the life decayes and forme does fade, Doth It consume and into nothing goe. But chaunged is and often altred to and free. The substaunce is not chaungd nor altered. But th' only forme and outward fashion ; For every substaunce is conditioned To chaimge her hew, and sondry fonnes to don, Meet for her temper and complexion : For formes are variable, and decay By course of kinde and by occasion ; Aid that faire flowre of beautie fades away. As doth the hUy fresh before the sunny ray. XXXIX. Great enimy to it, and to' all the rest That in the Gardin of Adonis springs. Is wicked Time ; who with his scyth addrest Does mow the flowi-ing herbes and goodly things. And aU their glory to the ground downe flings. Where they do wither and are fowly mard : He flyes about, and with his flaggy wings Beates downeboth leaves and buds withoutregard, Ne ever pitty may relent his niuUce hard. Yet pitty often did the gods relent, To see so faire thiuges mard and spoiled quight : And their great mother Venus did lament The losse of her deare brood, her deare delight : Her hart was pierst with pitty at the sight. When walking through the Gardin them she spy de. Yet no'te she find redresse for such despight : For all that lives is subiect to that law : All things decay in time, and to their end doe draw. But were it not that Time their troubler is. All that in this delightfull Gardin growes Should happy bee, and have immortall blis : For here all plenty and all pleasure flowes ; And sweete Love gentle fitts emongst them throwes. Without fell rancor or fond gealosy : Franckly each paramour his leman knowes ; Each bird his mate ; ne any does envy Then- goodly meriment and gay felicity. There is continuall spring, and harvest there Continuall, both meeting at one tyme : For both the boughes doe laughing blossoms beare. And with fi'esh colours decke the wanton pryme. And eke attonce the heavy trees they clyme. Which seeme to labour under their fruites lode : The whiles the ioyous birdes make their pastyme Emongst the shady leaves, their sweet abode, And their trew loves without suspition tell abrode. Right in the middest of that Paradise There stood a stately mount, on whose round top A gloomy grove of mirtle trees did rise. Whose shady boughes sharp Steele did never lop. Nor wielded beastes their tender buds did crop. But like a girlond compassed the hight. And from their fruitfull sydes sweet gum did drop, That all the ground, with pretious deaw bedight. Threw forth most dainty odom's and most sweet delight. And in the thickest covert of that shade There was a pleasauut arber, not by art But of the trees owne inclination made, [part. Which knittmg their rancke braunches part to With wanton yvie-twine entrayld athwart. And eglantine and caprifole emong, Fashiond above within their inmost part. That nether Phoebus beams could through them throng, Nor Aeolus sharp blast could worke them any wrong. And all about grew every sort of flowre. To which sad lovers were transformde of yore ; Fi'esh Hyacinthus, Phoebus paramoure And dearest love ; Foohsh Narcisse, that likes the watry shore ; Sad Amaranthus, made a flowre but late. Sad Amaranthus, in whose purple gore Me seemes I see Amintas wretched fate. To whom sweet poets verse hath given endlesse date. xxxiv. 9. imply.] Wrap up, that is, they eon- tain in themselves eternal moisture. Lat. implico. Church. xxxr. 5. indew ;] Lat induere, to put on, to be clothed with. Church. xxxvn. 4. invade] Go into. Lat. invado. Church. XXXIX. 9. relent] So/tin. Fr. ralentir. Chukch. XLIV. 3 ■ of the trees owne inclination made,'] That is, made by the trees bending themselves downward. Lat, inclinatio. Church. xl,rv. 5. ■ entrayld] Twisted. Todd. XLV.8. Auii-atviswrelched fate,'] The wretcned fate of Amintas, Amintas here oerhapa means Sii* FJiilip 160 THE FAERIE QUEENE. [book III There wont fayre Venus often to enioy Her deare Adonis ioyous company, And reap sweet pleasure of the wanton boy : There yet, some say, in secret he does ly. Lapped in fiowres and pretious spycery. By lier hid from the world, and from the skill Of Stygian gods, which doe her love envy ; But she herselfe, whenever that she will, Possesseth him, and of his sweetnesse takes her fill : And sooth, it seemes, they say ; for he may not For ever dye, and ever buried bee In balefull night where all thinges are forgot ; All be he subiect to mortalities Yet is eteme in mutabilitie. And by succession made perpetuall. Transformed oft, and chaunged diverslie : For him the father of all formes they call ; Therfore needs mote he live, that living gives to all, xLviir. There now he liveth in eternal blis, loying his goddesse, and of her enioyd ; Ne feareth he henceforth that foe of his. Which with his cruell tuske him deadly cloyd : For that wilde bore, the which him once annoyd. She firmely hath emprisoned for ay, (That her sweet Love his malice mote avoyd,) In a strong rocky cave, which is, they say, Hewen underneath that mount, that none him losen may. XLIX. There now he lives in everlasting ioy. With many of the gods in company Which thether haunt, and with the winged boy, Sporting himselfe in safe felicity : Who when he hath with spoiles and cruelty Ransackt the world, and m the wofuU harts Of many wretches set his triumphes hye, Thether resortes, and, lajdng his sad dartes Asyde, with faire Adonis playes his wanton partes. And his trew Love faire Psyche ivith him playes, Fayre Psyche to him lately reconcyld. After long troubles and unmeet upbrayes. With which his mother Venus her revyld. And eke himselfe her cruelly exyld : But now in stedfast love and happy state Slie with him lives, and hath him borne a chyld. Pleasure, that doth both gods and men aggrate. Pleasure, the daughter of Cupid and Psyche late. Hether great Venus brought this Infant fayre. The yonger daughter of Chrysogonee, And unto Psyche with great trust and care Committed her, yfostered to bee Sidney, as Mr. Upton also conjectures ; for all the poets la- mented Ills untimely death ; and, I may add, he is described by Spenser, in his Elegy on his death, as one of those luvers who were of yore transformed to flowers. Todd. xLvir. 4. All be fte] Although he is. Church. xivni. 4. cloyd ;] A term used among farriers, when a horse is pricked with a nail in shoeing. Church. L. ,3. . upbrayes,] Upbraidinf/s. Upton. L. 8. aggrate,] Delight or please. Todd. And trained up in trew feminitee : Who no lesse carefully her tendered Then her owne daughter Pleasure, to whom shee Made her companion, and her lessoned In all the lore of love and goodly womanhead. In which when she to perfect ripenes grew, Of grace and beautie noble paragone. She brought her forth into the worldes vew, To be th' ensample of true love alone. And lodestarre of all chaste affectione To all fayre Ladies that doe Uve on grownd. To Faery Court she came : where many one Admyrd her goodly haveour, and fownd His feeble hart wide launched with loves cruel wownd. LIII. But she to none of them her love did cast. Save to the noble Knight Sir Scudamore, To whom her loving hart she linked fast In faithfull love, t' abide for evermore ; And for his dearest sake endured sore Sore trouble of an hainous enimy. Who her would forced have to have forlore Her former love and stedfast loialty ; As ye may elswhere reade that rueful! history. LIV. But well I weene ye first desire to learne What end unto that fearefull Damozell, Which fledd so fast from that same foster steame Whom with his bretlu-en Timias slew, befell : That was, to weet, the goodly Florimell ; Who wandring for to seeke her lover deare. Her lover deare, her dearest Marinell, Into misfortune fell, as.ye did heare. And from Prince Arthure fled with wings jof idle feare. CANTO VII. The "Witches sonne lovee Florimell: She flyes; he faines to liy. Satyrane eaves the Squyre of Danies Prom Gyaunts tyranny. Like as an hynd forth singled from the heard, That hath escaped from a ravenous beast, Yet flyes away of her owne feete afeard ; And every leafe, that shaketh with the least Murmure of wmde, her terror hath encreast . So fledd fajTe Florimell from her vaine feare, Long after she from perill was releast : Each shade she saw, and eachnoyse she did heare, Did seeme to be the same which she escapt whileare. All that same evening she in flying spent, And all that night her course continewed : ■ Ne did she let dull sleepe once to relent LI. 5. feminitee :] Womanhood ,- the sex, state, dignity, weakness, or any quality or property, of a woman. Church. Liri. 5. endured sore] That is, sadly or sorelp en- dured. Sore in this line is used as an iidverb ; in the next, as an adjective. Church. u. 3. Ne did she &c.] Nor did she suffer either sleep or CANTO VII.] THE FAERIE QUEENE. 161 Nor weariiiesse to slack her hast, but fled Ever alike, as if her former dred Were hard behind, her ready to arrest : And her white palfrey, having conquered The maistring raines out of her weaiy wrest. Perforce her carried where ever he thought best. jii. So long as breath and liable puissaunce Did native corage unto him supply. His pace he freshly forward did advaunoe. And caiTied her beyond all ieopardy ; But nought that wauteth rest can long aby : He, having through incessant traveill spent His force, at last perforce adowne did ly, Ne foot could further move : The Lady gent Thereat was suddein strook with great astonish- ment ; IV. And, forst t' alight, on foot mote algates fare A traveiler unwonted to such way ; Need teacheth her this lesson hard and rare. That Fiyrtmie all in equall launce doth sway. And mortall miseries doth make her play. So long she traveild, till at length she came To an Miles side, which did to her bewray A litle valley subiect to the same. All coverd with thick woodes that quite it over- Through th' tops of the high trees she did descry A Utle smoke, whose vapour thin and light Reeking aloft uproUed to the sky : Which chearefull signe did send unto her sight That in the same did wonne some living wight. Eftsoones her steps she thereunto applyd. And came at last in weary wretched plight Unto the place, to which her hope did guyds To finde some refuge there, and rest her wcarie syde. vr. There in a gloomy hollow glen she found A httle cottage, built of stickes and reedes In homely wize, and wald with sods around ; In wliieh a Witch did dwell, in loathly weedes And wUfuU want, all carelesse of her needes ; So choosing solitarie to abide Far from all neighbours, that her divelish deedes And hellish arts from people she might hide. And hm-t far off unknowne whomever she envi'de. VII. The DamzeU there arriving entred in ; Where sitting on the flore the Hag she found Busie (as seem'd) about some wicked gin : Who, soone as she beheld that suddein stound, Lightly upstarted from the dustie ground. And with feU looke and hollow deadly gaze Stared on her awhile, as one astound, Ne had one word to speake for great amaze ; But shewd by outward signes that dread her sence did daze. weariness to relent(i. e. to sZacften,Fr.r«;fi7iiir,) her flight. Church. III. 5. aby :] Abide. Todd. IV. 4. in equall launce] Balance. Todd, IV. 9. . overcame.] Came over it. Upton. vn. 3. about some wicked gin :] Contrivance, snare, abbreviated from engine,' commonly used in Spenser's time. Todd. At last, turning her feare to foolish wi-ath. She askt. What devill had her thether brought. And who she was, and what unwonted path Had guided her, unwelcomed, unsought ? To which the Damzell full of doubtful! thought Her mildly answer'd ; " Beldame, be not wroth With silly Virgin, by adventure brought Unto your dwelling, ignorant and loth. That crave but rowme to rest while tempest over- blo'th." IX. With that adowne out of her ehristall eyne Few trickling teares she softly forth let fall, That like two orient perles did purely shyne Upon her snowy cheeke ; and therewithal! She sighed soft, that none so bestial! Nor salvage hart but ruth of lier sad plight Would make to melt, or pitteously appal! ; And that vile Hag, all were her whole delight In mischiefe, was much moved at so pitteous siglit ; And gan recomfort her, in her rude wyse. With womanish compassion of her plaint. Wiping the teares from her sufiused eyes. And bidding her sit downe to rest her faint And wearie limbs awhile : She nothing quaint Nor 'sdeignfull of so homely fashion, Sith brought she was now to so hard constraint. Sate downe upon the dusty ground anon ; As glad of that small i-est, as bird of tempest gon. Tho gan she gather up her garments rent. And her loose lockes to dight in order dew With golden wreath and gorgeous ornament ; Whom such whenas the wicked Hag did vew. She was astonisht at her heavenly hew. And doubted her to deeme an earthly wight, But or some goddesse, or of Dianes crew. And thought her to adore mth humble spright : T' adore thing so divine as beauty were but right. This wicked woman had a wicked sonne. The comfort of her age and weary dayes, A laesy loord, for nothing good to donne. But stretched forth in ydlenesse alwayes, Ne ever cast his mind to covet prayse. Or ply himselfe to any honest trade ; But all the day before the sunny rayes He us'd to slug, or sleepe in slothful! shade : Such laesinesse both lewd and poore attonce liim made. XIII. He, comming home at undertime, tliere foimd The fayrest creatm-e that he ever saw Sitting beside his mother on the ground ; The sight whereof did greatly him adaw, And his base thought with terrour and with awe, So inly smot, that as one, which hath gaz'd X, 6. She noihing quaint] Quaint is here used in the sense of nice, as coint in old French is iortJainC;/. >She was not so nice or so disdainful as to decline submitting tc her present situation. Todd. xni. 1. ■ undertime,] Underntyde, the afternoon. toward the evening. Ufton. ^^ 162 THE FAERIE QUEENE. [BOOK in. On the bright simne unwares, doth soone with- draw His feeble eyne with too much brightues daz'd ; So stai'ed he on her, ajid stood long while amaz'd. Softly at last he gan his mother aske, What mister wight that was, and whence deriy'd, Thatin so straungedisguizement there did maske. And by what accident she there arriv'd ? But she, as one nigh of her wits depriv'd, With nought but ghastly lookes him answered ; Like to a ghost, that lately is reviv'd From Stygian shores where late it wandered : So both at her, and each at other wondered. But the fayre Virgin was so meeke and myld. That she to them vouchsafed to embace Her goodly port, and to their senses vyld Her gentle speach applyde, that in short space She grew famiUare in that desert place, [kind During which time the Chorle, tlu-ough her so And courteise use, conceiv'd affection bace. And cast to love her in his brutish mind ; No love, but brutish lust, that was so beastly tind. Closely the wicked flame his bowels brent. And shortly grew into outrageous fire ; Yet had he not the hart, nor hardiment. As unto her to utter his desire ; His oaytive thought durst not so high aspire : But with soft sighes and lovely semblaunces He ween'd that his affection entire She should aread ; many resemblaunces To her he made, and many kinde remembraunces. Oft from the forrest wildings he did bring. Whose sides empurpled were with smyling red ; And oft young birds, which he had taught to sing His maistresse praises sweetly caroled : Girlonds of flowres sometimes for her faire hed He fine would dight ; sometimes the squiiTel wild He brought to her in bands, as conquered To be her thrall, his fellow-servant vild : All which she of him tooke with countenance meeke and mild. XVfll. Bat, past a while, when she fit season saw To leave that desert mansion, she cast In secret wize herselfe thence to withdraw. For feare of mischiefe, which she did forecast Might by the witch or by her sonne compast : Her wearie palfrey, closely as she might, Now well recovered after long repast. In his proud fumitm-es she freshly dight. His late miswandred wayes now to remeasure right. And earely, ere the dawning day appear'd. She forth issewed, and on her ioumey went ; iiv. 2. What YniateT wighf] What ftind of creature, Fr, metier, Ital. mestiere, a Lat. mmisterium, Uptow, XV. 9, No love, but brutish lust, that was so beastly tind,] Tind is excited, Anglo-Sax, Cen^an. Todd. XVI. 7. his affection entire] His inward affection. Toon, She went in perill, of each noyse affeard And of each shade that did itselfe present ; For still she feared to be overhent Of that vile Hag, or her uncivile Sonne ; Who when, too late awaking, well they kent That their fayre Guest was gone, they both begoime To make exceedingmone as they had beeneundonne. But that lewd lover did the most lament For her depart, that ever man did heare ; He kuockt his brest with desperate intent. And scratcht his face, and with his teeth did teare His rugged flesh, and rent his ragged heare : That his sad mother seeing his sore plight Was greatly woe-begon, and gan to feare Least his fraile senses were emperisht quight. And love to frenzy turnd ; sith love is frauticke liight. All wayes shee sought him to restore to plight. With herbs, with charms, with counsel, and with teares ; [might But tears, nor charms, nor herbs, nor counsell, Asswage the fury which his entrails teares : So strong is passion that no reason heares ! Tho, when all other helpes she saw to faile. She turnd herselfe baeke to her wicked leares ; And by her divelish arts thought to prevaile To bring her backe againe, or worke herfinall bale. Eftsoones out of her hidden cave she cald An hideous beast of horrible aspect. That could the stoutest corage have appald ; Monstrous, mishapt, and all his backe was spect With thousand spots of colours queint elect ; Thereto so swifte that it all beasts did pas : Like never yet did living eie detect ; But likest it to an hyena was That feeds on wemens flesh, as others feede on graa. It forth she cald, and gave it streight in charge Through thicke and thin her to poursew apace, Ne once to stay to rest, or breath at large. Till her hee had attaind and brought in place, Or quite devourd her beauties scomefuU grace. The monster, swifte as word that from her went, Went forth in haste, and did her footing trace So sure and swiftly, through his perfect sent And passing speede, that shortly he her overhent. 3CX1V. Whom when the fearefuU Damzell nigh espide. No need to bid her fast away to flie ; That ugly shape so sore her terrifide, That it she shund no lesse then dread to die ; And her flitt palfrey did so well apply His nimble feet to her conceived feare. That whilest his breath did strength to him From perin free he her away did beare ; [supply, But, when his force gan faile, his pace gan wex areare. XX. 2 depart,] Departure. Tlie French suTjstan- tive, depart. Todd. XXI. 7- to her wicked learos;] Leares are lessons. So leared or lered is learned. Todd. xxn. 5 of colours queintelect ;]