Complete Works of Edmund Spenser

by Edmund Spenser

  I feared love: but they that love doe live,

  But they that dye doe nether love nor hate. 330

  Nath’lesse to thee thy folly I forgive,

  And to my selfe and to accursed fate

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

  XXXVIII

  ‘O what availes it of immortall seed

  To beene ybredd and never borne to dye? 335

  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 his losse:

  So life is losse, and death felicity: 340

  Sad life worse then glad death: and greater crosse

  To see frends grave, then dead the grave self to engrosse.

  XXXIX

  ‘But if the heavens did his dayes envie,

  And my short blis maligne, yet mote they well

  Thus much afford me, ere that he did die, 345

  That the dim eies of my deare Marinell

  I mote have closed, and him bed farewell,

  Sith other offices for mother meet

  They would not graunt —— —

  Yett, maulgre them, farewell, my sweetest sweet! 350

  Farewell, my sweetest sonne, sith we no more shall meet!’

  XL

  Thus when they all had sorowed their fill,

  They softly gan to search his griesly wownd:

  And that they might him handle more at will,

  They him disarmd, and spredding on the grownd 355

  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 balme and nectar good,

  Good both for erthly med’cine and for hevenly food. 360

  XLI

  Tho, when the lilly handed Liagore

  (This Liagore whilome had learned skill

  In leaches craft, by great Appolloes lore,

  Sith her whilome upon high Pindus hill

  He loved, and at last her wombe did fill 365

  With hevenly seed, whereof wise Pæon sprong)

  Did feele his pulse, shee knew there staied still

  Some litle life his feeble sprites emong;

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

  XLII

  Tho up him taking in their tender hands, 370

  They easely unto her charett beare:

  Her teme at her commaundement quiet stands,

  Whiles they the corse into her wagon reare,

  And strowe with flowres the lamentable beare:

  Then all the rest into their coches clim, 375

  And through the brackish waves their passage shear;

  Upon great Neptunes necke they softly swim,

  And to her watry chamber swiftly carry him.

  XLIII

  Deepe in the bottome of the sea, her bowre

  Is built of hollow billowes heaped hye, 380

  Like to thicke clouds that threat a stormy showre,

  And vauted all within, like to the skye,

  In which the gods doe dwell eternally:

  There they him laide in easy couch well dight,

  And sent in haste for Tryphon, to apply 385

  Salves to his wounds, and medicines of might:

  For Tryphon of sea gods the soveraine leach is hight.

  XLIV

  The whiles the nymphes sitt all about him rownd,

  Lamenting his mishap and heavy plight;

  And ofte his mother, vewing his wide wownd, 390

  Cursed 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’ ensample of that might;

  But fairely well shee thryvd, and well did brooke 395

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

  XLV

  Yet did false Archimage her still pursew,

  To bring to passe his mischievous intent,

  Now that he had her singled from the crew

  Of courteous knights, the Prince and Fary gent, 400

  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. 405

  XLVI

  Through thick and thin, through mountains and through playns,

  Those two gret champions did attonce pursew

  The fearefull damzell, with incessant payns:

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

  Of hunter swifte and sent of howndes trew. 410

  At last they came unto a double way,

  Where, doubtfull which to take, her to reskew,

  Themselves they did dispart, each to assay

  Whether more happy were to win so goodly pray.

  XLVII

  But Timias, the Princes gentle squyre, 415

  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; 420

  Whose chaunce it was, that soone he did repent,

  To take that way in which that damozell

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

  XLVIII

  At last of her far of he gained vew:

  Then gan he freshly pricke his fomy steed, 425

  And ever as he nigher to her drew,

  So evermore he did increase his speed,

  And of each turning still kept wary heed:

  Alowd to her he oftentimes did call,

  To doe away vaine doubt and needlesse dreed: 430

  Full myld to her he spake, and oft let fall

  Many meeke wordes, to stay and comfort her withall.

  XLIX

  But nothing might relent her hasty flight;

  So deepe the deadly feare of that foule swaine

  Was earst impressed in her gentle spright: 435

  Like as a fearefull dove, which through the raine

  Of the wide ayre 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 forhent, 440

  And with her pineons cleaves the liquid firmament.

  L

  With no lesse hast, and eke with no lesse dreed,

  That fearefull ladie fledd from him that ment

  To her no evill thought nor evill deed;

  Yet former feare of being fowly shent 445

  Carried her forward with her first intent:

  And though, oft looking backward, well she vewde

  Her selfe freed from that foster insolent,

  And that it was a knight which now her sewde,

  Yet she no lesse the knight feard then that villein rude. 450

  LI

  His uncouth shield and straunge armes her dismayd,

  Whose like in Faery Lond were seldom seene,

  That fast she from him fledd, no lesse afrayd

  Then of wilde beastes if she had chased beene:

  Yet he her followd still with corage keene, 455

  So long that now the golden Hesperus

  Was mounted high in top of heaven sheene,

  And warnd his other brethren joyeous

  To light their blessed lamps in Joves eternall hous.

  LII

  All suddeinly dim wox the dampish ayre, 460

  And griesly shadowes covered heaven bright,

  That now with thousand starres was decked fayre;

  Which when the Prince behel
d, a lothfull sight,

  And that perforce, for want of lenger light,

  He mote surceasse his suit, and lose the hope 465

  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.

  LIII

  Tho, when her wayes he could no more descry,

  But to and fro at disaventure strayd, 470

  Like as a ship, whose lodestar suddeinly

  Covered with cloudes her pilott hath dismayd,

  His wearisome pursuit perforce he stayd,

  And from his loftie steed dismounting low,

  Did let him forage. Downe himselfe he layd 475

  Upon the grassy ground, to sleepe a throw;

  The cold earth was his couch, the hard steele his pillow.

  LIV

  But gentle Sleepe envyde him any rest;

  In stead thereof sad sorow and disdaine

  Of his hard hap did vexe his noble brest, 480

  And thousand fancies bett his ydle brayne

  With their light wings, the sights of semblants vaine;

  Oft did he wish that lady faire mote bee

  His Faery Queene, for whom he did complaine;

  Or that his Faery Queene were such as shee; 485

  And ever hasty Night he blamed bitterlie.

  LV

  ‘Night, thou foule mother of annoyaunce sad,

  Sister of heavie Death, and nourse of Woe,

  Which wast begot in heaven, but for thy bad

  And brutish shape thrust downe to hell below, 490

  Where by the grim floud of Cocytus slow

  Thy dwelling is, in Herebus black hous,

  (Black Herebus, thy husband, is the foe

  Of all the gods) where thou ungratious

  Halfe of thy dayes doest lead in horrour hideous: 495

  LVI

  ‘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 steep 500

  His lustlesse limbes, and drowne his baser mind,

  Doth praise thee oft, and oft from Stygian deepe

  Calles thee, his goddesse in his errour blind,

  And great Dame Natures handmaide chearing every kind.

  LVII

  ‘But well I wote, that to an heavy hart 505

  Thou art the roote and nourse of bitter cares,

  Breeder of new, renewer of old smarts:

  In stead of rest thou lendest rayling teares,

  In stead of sleepe thou sendest troublous feares

  And dreadfull visions, in the which alive 510

  The dreary image of sad death appeares:

  So from the wearie spirit thou doest drive

  Desired rest, and men of happinesse deprive.

  LVIII

  ‘Under thy mantle black there hidden lye

  Light-shonning thefte, and traiterous intent, 515

  Abhorred bloodshed, and vile felony,

  Shamefull deceipt, and daunger imminent,

  Fowle horror, and eke hellish dreriment:

  All these, I wote, in thy protection bee,

  And light doe shonne, for feare of being shent: 520

  For light 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 displayes, 525

  And His large bountie 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. 530

  Our life is day, but death with darknesse doth begin.

  LX

  ‘O when will Day then turne to me againe,

  And bring with him his long expected light?

  O Titan, hast to reare thy joyous waine:

  Speed thee to spred abroad thy beames bright, 535

  And chace away this too long lingring Night;

  Chace her away, from whence she came, to hell:

  She, she it is, that hath me done despight:

  There let her with the damned spirits dwell,

  And yield her rowme to Day, that can it governe well.’ 540

  LXI

  Thus did the Prince that wearie night outweare

  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, 545

  And clombe unto his steed. So forth he went,

  With heavy looke and lumpish pace, that plaine

  In him bewraid great grudge and maltalent:

  His steed eke seemd t’ apply his steps to his intent.

  Faerie Queene Detailed Table of Contents

  Glossary for ‘The Faerie Queene’

  Canto V

  Prince Arthur heares of Florimell:

  Three fosters Timias wound;

  Belphebe findes him almost dead,

  And reareth out of sownd.

  I

  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, 5

  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 high desert and honour doth aspire.

  II

  Ne suffereth it uncomely idlenesse 10

  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: 15

  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.

  III

  Who long time wandred through the forest wyde,

  To finde some issue thence, till that at last 20

  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 traveiled so fast: 25

  For sore 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 him answerd: ‘Sir, ill mote I stay

  To tell the same. I lately did depart 30

  From Faery court, where I have many a day

  Served a gentle lady of great sway

  And high accompt through out all Elfin Land,

  Who lately left the same, and tooke this way:

  Her now I seeke, and if ye understand 35

  Which way she fared hath, good sir, tell out of hand.’

  V

  ‘What mister wight,’ saide he, ‘and how arayd?’

  ‘Royally clad,’ quoth he, ‘in cloth of gold,

  As meetest may beseeme a noble mayd;

  Her faire lockes in rich circlet be enrold, 40

  A fayrer wight did never sunne behold;

  And on a palfrey rydes more white then snow,

  Yet she her selfe is whiter manifold:

  The surest signe, whereby ye may her know,

&nb
sp; Is, that she is the fairest wight alive, I trow.’ 45

  VI

  ‘Now certes, swaine,’ saide he, ‘such one, I weene,

  Fast flying through this forest from her fo,

  A foule ill favoured foster, I have seene;

  Her selfe, well as I might, I reskewd tho,

  But could not stay, so fast she did foregoe, 50

  Carried away with wings of speedy feare.’

  ‘Ah, dearest God!’ quoth he, ‘that is great woe,

  And wondrous ruth to all that shall it heare.

  But can ye read, sir, how I may her finde, or where?’

  VII

  ‘Perdy, me lever were to weeten that,’ 55

  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 life and light attone. 60

  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 mone.’

  VIII

  ‘That ladie is,’ quoth he, ‘where so she bee,

  The bountiest virgin and most debonaire 65

  That ever living eye, I weene, did see;

  Lives none this day that may with her compare

  In stedfast chastitie and vertue rare,

  The goodly ornaments of beautie bright;

  And is ycleped Florimell the Fayre, 70

  Faire Florimell, belov’d of many a knight,

  Yet she loves none but one, that Marinell is hight.

  IX

  ‘A sea-nymphes sonne, that Marinell is hight,

  Of my deare dame is loved dearely well;

  In other none, but him, she sets delight, 75

  All her delight is set on Marinell;

  But he sets nought at all by Florimell:

  For ladies love his mother long ygoe

  Did him, they say, forwarne through sacred spell.

  But fame now flies, that of a forreine foe 80

  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 returne againe,

  Till him alive or dead she did invent. 85

  Therefore, faire sir, for love of knighthood gent

  And honour of trew ladies, if ye may

  By your good counsell, or bold hardiment,

  Or succour her, or me direct the way,

  Do one or other good, I you most humbly pray. 90

  XI

  ‘So may ye gaine to you full great renowme

  Of all good ladies through the world so wide,

  And haply in her hart finde highest rowme,

  Of whom ye seeke to be most magnifide: