The Faerie Queene

by Edmund Spenser

  And all the world beneath for terror quooke,

  And eft his burning levin-brond in hand he tooke.

  31 But, when he looked on her louely face,

  In which, faire beames of beauty did appeare,

  That could the greatest wrath soone turne to grace

  (Such sway doth beauty euen in Heauen beare)

  He staide bis hand: and hauing chang’d his cheare,

  He thus againe in milder wise began;

  But ah! if Gods should striue with flesh yfere,

  Then shortly should the progeny of Man

  Be rooted out, if loue should doe still what he can:

  32 But thee faire Titans child, I rather weene,

  Through some vaine errour or inducement light,

  To see that mortall eyes haue neuer seene;

  Or through ensample of thy sisters might,

  Bellona; whose great glory thou doost spight,

  Since thou hast seene her dreadfull power belowe,

  Mongst wretched men (dismaide with her affright)

  To bandie Crownes, and Kingdomes to bestowe:

  And sure thy worth, no lesse then hers doth seem to showe.

  33 But wote thou this, thou hardy Titanesse,

  That not the worth of any liuing wight

  May challenge ought in Heauens interesse;

  Much lesse the Title of old Titans Right:

  For, we by Conquest of our soueraine might,

  And by eternall doome of Fates decree,

  Haue wonne the Empire of the Heauens bright;

  Which to our selues we hold, and to whom wee

  Shall worthy deeme partakers of our blisse to bee.

  34 Then ceasse thy idle claime thou foolish gerle,

  And seeke by grace and goodnesse to obtaine

  That place from which by folly Titan fell;

  There-to thou maist perhaps, if so thou faine

  Haue Ioue thy gratious Lord and Soueraigne.

  So, hauing said, she thus to him replide;

  Ceasse Saturnes sonne, to seeke by proffers vaine

  Of idle hopes t’allure mee to thy side,

  For to betray my Right, before I haue it tride.

  35 But thee, ô Ioue, no equall Iudge I deeme

  Of my desert, or of my dewfull Right;

  That in thine owne behalfe maist partiall seeme:

  But to the highest him, that is behight

  Father of Gods and men by equall might;

  To weet, the God of Nature, I appeale.

  There-at Ioue wexed wroth, and in his spright

  Did inly grudge, yet did it well concede;

  And bade Dan Phoebus Scribe her Appellation seale.

  36 Eftsoones the time and place appointed were,

  Where all, both heauenly Powers, & earthly wights,

  Before great Natures presence should appeare,

  For triall of their Titles and best Rights:

  That was, to weet, vpon the highest hights

  Of Arlo-hill (Who knowes not Arlo-hill?)

  That is the highest head (in all mens sights)

  Of my old father Mole, whom Shepheards quill

  Renowmed hath with hymnes fit for a rurall skill.

  37 And, were it not ill fitting for this file,

  To sing of hilles & woods, mongst warres & Knights,

  I would abate the sternenesse of my stile,

  Mongst these sterne stounds to mingle soft delights;

  And tell how Arlo through Dianaes spights

  (Beeing of old the best and fairest Hill

  That was in all this holy-Islands hights)

  Was made the most vnpleasant, and most ill.

  Meane while, ô Clio, lend Calliope thy quill.

  38 Whylome, when IRELAND florished in fame

  Of wealths and goodnesse, far aboue the rest

  Of all that beare the British Islands name,

  The Gods then vs’d (for pleasure and for rest)

  Oft to resort there-to, when seem’d them best:

  But none of all there-in more pleasure found,

  Then Cynthia; that is soueraine Queene protest

  Of woods and forrests, which therein abound,

  Sprinkled with wholsom waters, more then most on ground.

  39 But mongst them all, as fittest for her game,

  Either for chace of beasts with hound or boawe,

  Or for to shroude in shade from Phœbus flame,

  Or bathe in fountaines that doe freshly flowe,

  Or from high hilles, or from the dales belowe,

  She chose this Arlo; where shee did resort

  With all her Nymphes enranged on a rowe,

  With whom the woody Gods did oft consort:

  For, with the Nymphes, the Satyres loue to play & sport.

  40 Amongst the which, there was a Nymph that hight

  Molanna; daughter of old father Mole,

  And sister vnto Mulla, faire and bright:

  Vnto whose bed false Bregog whylome stole,

  That Shepheard Colin dearely did condole,

  And made her lucklesse loues well knowne to be.

  But this Molanna, were she not so shole,

  Were no lesse faire and beautifull then shee:

  Yet as she is, a fairer flood may no man see.

  41 For, first, she springs out of two marble Rocks,

  On which, a groue of Oakes high mounted growes,

  That as a girlond seemes to deck the locks

  Of som faire Bride, brought forth with pompous showes

  Out of her bowre, that many flowers strowes:

  So, through the flowry Dales she tumbling downe,

  Through many woods, and shady coverts flowes

  (That on each side her siluer channell crowne)

  Till to the Plaine she come, whose Valleyes shee doth drowne.

  42 In her sweet streames, Diana vsed oft

  (After her sweatie chace and toilesome play)

  To bathe her selfe; and after, on the soft

  And downy grasse, her dainty limbes to lay

  In couert shade, where none behold her may:

  For, much she hated sight of liuing eye.

  Foolish God Faunus, though full many a day

  He saw her clad, yet longed foolishly

  To see her naked mongst her Nymphes in priuity.

  43 No way he found to compasse his desire,

  But to corrupt Molanna, this her maid,

  Her to discouer for some secret hire:

  So, her with flattering words he first assaid;

  And after, pleasing gifts for her purvaid,

  Queene-apples, and red Cherries from the tree,

  With which he her allured and betraid,

  To tell what time he might her Lady see

  When she her selfe did bathe, that he might secret bee.

  44 There-to hee promist, if shee would him pleasure

  With this small boone, to quit her with a better;

  To weet, that where-as shee had out of measure

  Long lov’d the Fanchin, who by nought did set her,

  That he would vndertake, for this to get her

  To be his Loue, and of him liked well:

  Besides all which, he vow’d to be her debter

  For many moe good turnes then he would tell;

  The least of which, this litte pleasure should excell.

  45 The simple maid did yield to him anone;

  And eft him placed where he close might view

  That neuer any saw, saue onely one;

  Who, for his hire to so foole-hardy dew,

  Was of his hounds devour’d in Hunters hew.

  Tho, as her manner was on sunny day,

  Diana, with her Nymphes about her, drew

  To this sweet spring; where, doffing her array,

  She bath’d her louely limbes, for Ioue a likely pray.

  46 There Faunus saw that pleased much his eye,

  And made his hart to tickle in his brest,

  That
for great ioy of some-what he did spy,

  He could him not containe in silent rest;

  But breaking forth in laughter, loud profest

  His foolish thought. A foolish Faune indeed,

  That couldst not hold thy selfe so hidden blest,

  But wouldest needs thine owne conceit areed.

  Babblers vnworthy been of so diuine a meed.

  47 The Goddesse, all abashed with that noise,

  In haste forth started from the guilty brooke;

  And running straight where-as she heard his voice,

  Enclos’d the bush about, and there him tooke,

  Like darred Larke; not daring vp to looke

  On her whose sight before so much he sought.

  Thence, forth they drew him by the homes, & shooke

  Nigh all to peeces, that they left him nought;

  And then into the open light they forth him brought.

  48 Like as an huswife, that with busie care

  Thinks of her Dairie to make wondrous gaine,

  Finding where-as some wicked beast vnware

  That breakes into her Dayr’house, there doth draine

  Her creaming pannes, and frustrate all her paine;

  Hath in some snare or gin set close behind,

  Entrapped him, and caught into her traine,

  Then thinkes what punishment were best assign’d,

  And thousand deathes deuiseth in her vengefull mind:

  49 So did Diana and her maydens all

  Vse silly Faunus, now within their baile:

  They mocke and scorne him, and him foule miscall;

  Some by the nose him pluckt, some by the taile,

  And by his goatish beard some did him haile:

  Yet he (poore soule) with patience all did beare;

  For, nought against their wils might countervaile:

  Ne ought he said what euer he did heare;

  But hanging downe his head, did like a Mome appeare.

  50 At length, when they had flouted him their fill,

  They gan to cast what penaunce him to giue.

  Some would haue gelt him, but that same would spill

  The Wood-gods breed, which must for euer liue:

  Others would through the riuer him haue driue,

  And ducked deepe: but that seem’d penaunce light;

  But most agreed and did this sentence giue,

  Him in Deares skin to clad; & in that plight,

  To hunt him with their hounds, him selfe saue how hee might.

  51 But Cynthia’s selfe, more angry then the rest,

  Thought not enough, to punish him in sport,

  And of her shame to make a gamesome iest;

  But gan examine him in straighter sort,

  Which of her Nymphes, or other close consort,

  Him thither brought, and her to him betraid?

  He, much affeard, to her confessed short,

  That’t was Molanna which her so bewraid.

  Then all attonce their hands vpon Molanna laid.

  52 But him (according as they had decreed)

  With a Deeres-skin they couered, and then chast

  With all their hounds that after him did speed;

  But he more speedy, from them fled more fast

  Then any Deere: so sore him dread aghast.

  They after follow’d all with shrill out-cry,

  Shouting as they the heauens would haue brast:

  That all the woods and dales where he did flie,

  Did ring againe, and loud reeccho to the skie.

  53 So they him follow’d till they weary were;

  When, back returning to Molann againe,

  They, by commaund’ment of Diana, there

  Her whelm’d with stones. Yet Faunus (for her paine)

  Of her beloued Fanchin did obtaine,

  That her he would receiue vnto his bed.

  So now her waues passe through a pleasant Plaine,

  Till with the Fanchin she her selfe doe wed,

  And (both combin’d) themselues in one faire riuer spred.

  54 Nath’lesse, Diana, full of indignation,

  Thence-forth abandond her delicious brooke;

  In whose sweet streame, before that bad occasion,

  So much delight to bathe her limbes she tooke:

  Ne onely her, but also quite forsooke

  All those faire forrests about Arlo hid,

  And all that Mountaine, which doth over-looke

  The richest champian that may else be rid,

  And the faire Shure, in which are thousand Salmons bred.

  55 Them all, and all that she so deare did way,

  Thence-forth she left; and parting from the place,

  There-on an heauy haplesse curse did lay,

  To weet, that Wolues, where she was wont to space,

  Should harbour’d be, and all those Woods deface,

  And Thieues should rob and spoile that Coast around.

  Since which, those Woods, and all that goodly Chase,

  Doth to this day with Wolues and Thieues abound:

  Which too-too true that lands in-dwellers since haue found.

  CANTO VII

  Pealing, from Ioue, to Natur’s Bar,

  bold Alteration pleades

  Large Euidence: but Nature soone

  her righteous Doome areads.

  1 Ah! whither doost thou now thou greater Muse

  Me from these woods & pleasing forrests bring?

  And my fraile spirit (that dooth oft refuse

  This too high flight, vnfit for her weake wing)

  Lift vp aloft, to tell of heauens King

  (Thy soueraine Sire) his fortunate successe,

  And victory, in bigger noates to sing,

  Which he obtain’d against that Titanesse,

  That him of heauens Empire sought to dispossesse.

  2 Yet sith I needs must follow thy behest,

  Doe thou my weaker wit with skill inspire,

  Fit for this turne; and in my sable brest

  Kindle fresh sparks of that immortall fire,

  Which learned minds inflameth with desire

  Of heauenly things: for, who but thou alone,

  That art yborne of heauen and heauenly Sire,

  Can tell things doen in heauen so long ygone;

  So farre past memory of man that may be knowne.

  3 Now, at the time that was before agreed,

  The Gods assembled all on Arlo hill;

  As well those that are sprung of heauenly seed,

  As those that all the other world doe fill,

  And rule both sea and land vnto their will:

  Onely th’infernall Powers might not appeare;

  Aswell for horror of their count’naunce ill,

  As for th’vnruly fiends which they did feare;

  Yet Pluto and Proserpina were present there.

  4 And thither also came all other creatures,

  What-euer life or motion doe retaine,

  According to their sundry kinds of features;

  That Arlo scarsly could them all containe;

  So full they filled euery hill and Plaine:

  And had not Natures Sergeant (that is Order)

  Them well disposed by his busie paine,

  And raunged farre abroad in euery border,

  They would haue caused much confusion and disorder.

  5 Then forth issewed (great goddesse) great dame Nature,

  With goodly port and gracious Maiesty;

  Being far greater and more tall of stature

  Then any of the gods or Powers on hie:

  Yet certes by her face and physnomy.

  Whether she man or woman inly were,

  That could not any creature well descry:

  For, with a veile that wimpled euery where,

  Her head and face was hid, that mote to none appeare.

  6 That some doe say was so by skill deuized,

  To hide the terror of her vncouth hew,

  From mortall
eyes that should be sore agrized;

  For that her face did like a Lion shew,

  That eye of wight could not indure to view:

  But others tell that it so beautious was,

  And round about such beames of splendor threw,

  That it the Sunne a thousand times did pass,

  Ne could be seene, but like an image in a glass.

  7 That well may seemen true: for, well I weene

  That this same day, when she on Arlo sat,

  Her garment was so bright and wondrous sheene,

  That my fraile wit cannot deuize to what

  It to compare, nor finde like stuffe to that,

  As those three sacred Saints, though else most wise,

  Yet on mount Thabor quite their wits forgat,

  When they their glorious Lord in strange disguise

  Transfigur’d sawe; his garments so did daze their eyes.

  8 In a fayre Plaine vpon an equall Hill,

  She placed was in a pauilion;

  Not such as Craftes-men by their idle skill

  Are wont for Princes states to fashion:

  But th’earth her self of her owne motion,

  Out of her fruitfull bosome made to growe

  Most dainty trees; that, shooting vp anon,

  Did seeme to bow their bloosming heads full lowe,

  For homage vnto her, and like a throne did shew.

  9 So heard it is for any liuing wight,

  All her array and vestiments to tell,

  That old Dan Geffrey (in whose gentle spright

  The pure well head of Poesie did dwell)

  In his Foules parley durst not with it mel,

  But it transferd to Alane, who he thought

  Had in his Plaint of kindes describ’d it well:

  Which who will read set forth so as it ought,

  Go seek he out that Alane where he may be sought.

  10 And all the earth far vnderneath her feete

  Was dight with flowres, that voluntary grew

  Out of the ground, and sent forth odours sweet;

  Tenne thousand mores of sundry sent and hew,

  That might delight the smell, or please the view:

  The which, the Nymphes, from all the brooks thereby

  Had gathered, which they at her foot-stoole threw;

  That richer seem’d then any tapestry,

  That Princes bowres adorne with painted imagery.

  11 And Mole himselfe, to honour her the more,

  Did deck himself in freshest faire attire,

  And his high head, that seemeth alwaies hore

  With hardned frosts of former winters ire,

  He with an Oaken girlond now did tire,

  As if the loue of some new Nymph late seene,

  Had in him kindled youthfull fresh desire,

  And made him change his gray attire to greene;

  Ah gentle Mole! such ioyance hath thee well beseene.