The Faerie Queene

by The Faerie Queen(Lit)

  The secret signes of kindled lust appeare,

  Their wanton meriments they did encreace,

  And to him beckned, to approch more neare,

  And shewd him many sights, that courage cold could reare.

  On which when gazing him the Palmer saw,

  He much rebukt those wandring eyes of his,

  And counseld well, him forward thence did draw.

  Now are they come nigh to the Bowre of blis

  Of her fond fauorites so nam'd amis:

  When thus the Palmer; Now Sir, well auise;

  For here the end of all our trauell is:

  Here wonnes Acrasia, whom we must surprise,

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

  Etfsoones they heard a most melodious sound,

  Of all that mote delight a daintie eare,

  Such as attonce might not on liuing ground,

  Saue in this Paradise, be heard elswhere:

  Right hard it was, for wight, which did it heare,

  To read, what manner musicke that mote bee:

  For all that pleasing is to liuing eare,

  Was there consorted in one harmonee,

  Birdes, voyces, instruments, windes, waters, all agree.

  The ioyous birdes shrouded in chearefull shade,

  Their notes vnto the voyce attempred sweet;

  Th'Angelicall soft trembling voyces made

  To th'instruments diuine respondence meet:

  The siluer sounding instruments did meet

  With the base murmure of the waters fall:

  The waters fall with difference discreet,

  Now soft, now loud, vnto the wind did call:

  The gentle warbling wind low answered to all.

  There, whence that Musick seemed heard to bee,

  Was the faire Witch her selfe now solacing,

  With a new Louer, whom through sorceree

  And witchcraft, she from farre did thither bring:

  There she had him now layd a slombering,

  In secret shade, after long wanton ioyes:

  Whilst round about them pleasauntly did sing

  Many faire Ladies, and lasciuious boyes,

  That euer mixt their song with light licentious toyes.

  And all that while, right ouer him she hong,

  With her false eyes fast fixed in his sight,

  As seeking medicine, whence she was stong,

  Or greedily depasturing delight:

  And oft inclining downe with kisses light,

  For feare of waking him, his lips bedewd,

  And through his humid eyes did sucke his spright,

  Quite molten into lust and pleasure lewd;

  Wherewith she sighed soft, as if his case she rewd.

  The whiles some one did chaunt this louely lay;

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

  In springing flowre the image of thy day;

  Ah see the Virgin Rose, how sweetly shee

  Doth first peepe forth with bashfull modestee,

  That fairer seemes, the lesse ye see her may;

  Lo see soone after, how more bold and free

  Her bared bosome she doth broad display;

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

  So passeth, in the passing of a day,

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

  Ne more doth flourish after first decay,

  That earst was sought to decke both bed and bowre,

  Of many a Ladie, and many a Paramowre:

  Gather therefore the Rose, whilest yet is prime,

  For soone comes age, that will her pride deflowre:

  Gather the Rose of love, whilest yet is time,

  Whilest louing thou mayst loued be with equall crime.

  He ceast, and then gan all the quire of birdes

  Their diuerse notes t'attune vnto his lay,

  As in approuance of his pleasing words.

  The constant paire heard all, that he did say,

  Yet swarued not, but kept their forward way,

  Through many couert groues, and thickets close,

  In which they creeping did at last display

  That wanton Ladie, with her louer lose,

  Whose sleepie head she in her lap did soft dispose.

  Vpon a bed of Roses she was layd,

  As faint through heat, or dight to pleasant sin,

  And was arayd, or rather disarayd,

  All in a vele of silke and siluer thin,

  That hid no whit her alablaster skin,

  But rather shewd more white, if more might bee:

  More subtile web Arachne can not spin,

  Nor the fine nets, which oft we wouen see

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

  Her snowy brest was bare to readie spoyle

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

  And yet through languour of her late sweet toyle,

  Few drops, more cleare then Nectar, forth distild,

  That like pure Orient perles adowne it trild,

  And her faire eyes sweet smyling in delight,

  Moystened their fierie beames, with which she thrild

  Fraile harts, yet quenched not; like starry light

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

  The young man sleeping by her, seemd to bee

  Some goodly swayne of honorable place,

  That certes it great pittie was to see

  Him his nobilitie so foule deface;

  A sweet regard, and amiable grace,

  Mixed with manly sternnesse did appeare

  Yet sleeping, in his well proportiond face,

  And on his tender lips the downy heare

  Did now but freshly spring, and silken blossomes beare.

  His warlike armes, the idle instruments

  Of sleeping praise, were hong vpon a tree,

  And his braue shield, full of old moniments,

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

  Ne for them, ne for honour cared hee,

  Ne ought, that did to his aduauncement tend,

  But in lewd loues, and wastfull luxuree,

  His dayes, his goods, his bodie he did spend:

  O horrible enchantment, that him so did blend.

  The noble Elfe, and carefull Palmer drew

  So nigh them, minding nought, but lustfull game,

  That suddein forth they on them rusht, and threw

  A subtile net, which onely for the same

  The skilfull Palmer formally did frame.

  So held them vnder fast, the whiles the rest

  Fled all away for feare of fowler shame.

  The faire Enchauntresse, so vnwares opprest,

  Tryde all her arts, & all her sleights, thence out to wrest.

  And eke her louer stroue: but all in vaine;

  For that same net so cunningly was wound,

  That neither guile, nor force might it distraine.

  They tooke them both, & both them strongly bound

  In captiue bandes, which there they readie found:

  But her in chaines of adamant he tyde;

  For nothing else might keepe her safe and sound;

  But Verdant (so he hight) he soone vntyde,

  And counsell sage in steed thereof to him applyde.

  But all those pleasant bowres and Pallace braue,

  Guyon broke downe, with rigour pittilesse;

  Ne ought their goodly workmanship might saue

  Them from the tempest of his wrathfulnesse,

  But that their blisse he turn'd to balefulnesse:

  Their groues he feld, their gardins did deface,

  Their arbers spoyle, their Cabinets suppresse,

  Their banket houses burne, their buildings race,

  And of the fairest late, now made the fowlest place.

  Then led they her away, and eke that knight

  They with them led, both sorrowf
ull and sad:

  The way they came, the same retourn'd they right,

  Till they arriued, where they lately had

  Charm'd those wild-beasts, that rag'd with furie mad.

  Which now awaking, fierce at them gan fly,

  As in their mistresse reskew, whom they lad;

  But them the Palmer soone did pacify.

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

  Said he, These seeming beasts are men indeed,

  Whom this Enchauntresse hath transformed thus,

  Whylome her louers, which her lusts did feed,

  Now turned into figures hideous,

  According to their mindes like monstruous.

  Sad end (quoth he) of life intemperate,

  And mournefull meed of ioyes delicious:

  But Palmer, if it mote thee so aggrate,

  Let them returned be vnto their former state.

  Streight way he with his vertuous staffe them strooke,

  And streight of beasts they comely men became;

  Yet being men they did vnmanly looke,

  And stared ghastly, some for inward shame,

  And some for wrath, to see their captiue Dame:

  But one aboue the rest in speciall,

  That had an hog beene late, hight Grille by name,

  Repined greatly, and did him miscall,

  That had from hoggish forme him brought to naturall.

  Said Guyon, See the mind of beastly man,

  That hath so soone forgot the excellence

  Of his creation, when he life began,

  That now he chooseth, with vile difference,

  To be a beast, and lacke intelligence.

  To whom the Palmer thus, The donghill kind

  Delights in filth and foule incontinence:

  Let Grill be Grill, and haue his hoggish mind,

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

  THE THIRD

  BOOKE OF THE

  FAERIE QVEENE.

  Contayning,

  THE LEGEND OF BRITOMARTIS.

  OR

  Of Chastitie.

  IT falles me here to write of Chastity,

  That fairest vertue, farre aboue the rest;

  For which what needs me fetch from Faery

  Forreine ensamples, it to haue exprest?

  Sith it is shrined in my Soueraines brest,

  And form'd so liuely in each perfect part

  That to all Ladies, which haue it profest,

  Need but behold the pourtraict of her hart,

  If pourtrayd it might be by any liuing art.

  But liuing art may not least part expresse,

  Nor life-resembling pencill it can paint,

  All were it Zeuxis or Praxiteles:

  His daedale hand would faile, and greatly faint,

  And her perfections with his error taint:

  Ne Poets wit, that passeth Painter farre

  In picturing the parts of beautie daint,

  So hard a workmanship aduenture darre,

  For fear through want of words her excellence to marre.

  How then shall I, Apprentice of the skill,

  That whylome in diuinest wits did raine,

  Presume so high to stretch mine humble quill?

  Yet now my lucklesse lot doth me constraine

  Hereto perforce. But ô dred Soueraine

  Thus farre forth pardon, sith that choicest wit

  Cannot your glorious pourtraict figure plaine

  That I in colourd showes may shadow it,

  And antique praises vnto present persons fit.

  But if in liuing colours, and right hew,

  Your selfe you couet to see pictured,

  Who can it doe more liuely, or more trew,

  Then that sweet verse, with Nectar sprinckeled,

  In which a gracious seruant pictured

  His Cynthia, his heauens fairest light?

  That with his melting sweetnesse rauished,

  And with the wonder of her beames bright,

  My senses lulled are in slomber of delight.

  But let that same delitious Poet lend

  A little leaue vnto a rusticke Muse

  To sing his mistresse prayse, and let him mend,

  If ought amis her liking may abuse:

  Ne let his fairest Cynthia refuse,

  In mirrours more then one her selfe 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,

  faire Florimell is chaced:

  Duessaes traines and Malecastaes

  champions are defaced.

  T He famous Briton Prince and Faerie knight,

  After long wayes and perilous paines endured,

  Hauing their wearie limbes to perfect plight

  Restord, and sory wounds right well recured,

  Of the faire Alma greatly were procured,

  To make there lenger soiourne and abode;

  But when thereto they might not be allured,

  From seeking praise, and deeds of armes abrode,

  They courteous conge tooke, and forth together yode.

  But the captiu'd Acrasia he sent,

  Because of trauell long, a nigher way,

  With a strong gard, all reskew to preuent,

  And her to Faerie court safe to conuay,

  That her for witnesse of his hard assay,

  Vnto his Faerie Queene he might present:

  But he him selfe betooke another way,

  To make more triall of his hardiment,

  And seeke aduentures, as he with Prince Arthur went.

  Long so they trauelled through wastefull wayes,

  Where daungers dwelt, and perils most did wonne,

  To hunt for glorie and renowmed praise;

  Full many Countries they did ouerronne,

  From the vprising to the setting Sunne,

  And many hard aduentures did atchieue;

  Of all the which they honour euer wonne,

  Seeking the weake oppressed to relieue,

  And to recouer right for such, as wrong did grieue.

  At last as through an open plaine they yode,

  They spide a knight, that towards pricked faire,

  And him beside an aged Squire there rode,

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

  As if that age bad him that burden spare,

  And yield it those, that stouter could it wield:

  He them espying, gan himselfe prepare,

  And on his arme addresse his goodly shield

  That bore a Lion passant in a golden field.

  Which seeing good Sir Guyon, deare besought

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

  He graunted: then the Faery quickly raught

  His poinant speare, and sharpely gan to spurne

  His fomy steed, whose fierie feete did burne

  The verdant grasse, as he thereon did tread;

  Ne did the other backe his foot returne,

  But fiercely forward came withouten dread,

  And bent his dreadfull speare against the others head.

  They bene ymet, and both their points arriued,

  But Guyon droue so furious and fell,

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

  Nathelesse it bore his foe not from his sell,

  But made him stagger, as he were not well:

  But Guyon selfe, ere well he was aware,

  Nigh a speares length behind his crouper fell,

  Yet in his fall so well him selfe he bare,

  That mischieuous mischance his life & limbes did spare.

  Great shame and sorrow of that fall he tooke;

  For neuer yet, sith warlike armes he bore,

  And shiuering speare in bloudie field first shooke,

 
He found himselfe dishonored so sore.

  Ah gentlest knight, that euer armour bore,

  Let not thee grieue dismounted to haue beene,

  And brought to ground, that neuer wast before;

  For not thy fault, but secret powre vnseene,

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

  But weenedst thou what wight thee ouerthrew,

  Much greater griefe and shamefuller regret

  For thy hard fortune then thou wouldst renew,

  That of a single damzell thou wert met

  On equall plaine, and there so hard beset;

  Euen the famous Britomart it was,

  Whom straunge aduenture did from Britaine fet,

  To seeke her louer (loue farre sought alas,)

  Whose image she had seene in Venus looking glas.

  Full of disdainefull wrath, he fierce vprose,

  For to reuenge that foule reprochfull shame,

  And snatching his bright sword began to close

  With her on foot, and stoutly forward came;

  Die rather would he, then endure that same.

  Which when his Palmer saw, he gan to feare

  His toward perill and vntoward blame,

  Which by that new rencounter he should reare:

  For death sate on the point of that enchaunted speare.

  And hasting towards him gan faire perswade,

  Not to prouoke misfortune, nor to weene

  His speares default to mend with cruell blade;

  For by his mightie Science he had seene

  The secret vertue of that weapon keene,

  That mortall puissance mote not withstond:

  Nothing on earth mote alwaies happie beene.

  Great hazard were it, and aduenture fond,

  To loose long gotten honour with one euill hond.

  By such good meanes he him discounselled,

  From prosecuting his reuenging rage;

  And eke the Prince like treaty handeled,

  His wrathfull will with reason to asswage,

  And laid the blame, not to his carriage,

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

  And to the ill purueyance of his page,

  That had his furnitures not firmely tyde:

  So is his angry courage fairely pacifyde.