The Faerie Queene

by The Faerie Queen(Lit)

  Franckly each paramour his leman knowes,

  Each bird his mate, ne any does enuie

  Their goodly meriment, and gay felicitie.

  There is continuall spring, and haruest there

  Continuall, both meeting at one time:

  For both the boughes doe laughing blossomes beare,

  And with fresh colours decke the wanton Prime,

  And eke attonce the heauy trees they clime,

  Which seeme to labour vnder their fruits lode:

  The whiles the ioyous birdes make their pastime

  Emongst the shadie leaues, their sweet abode,

  And their true loues without suspition tell abrode.

  Right in the middest of that Paradise,

  There stood a stately Mount, on whose round top

  A gloomy groue of mirtle trees did rise,

  Whose shadie boughes sharpe steele did neuer lop,

  Nor wicked beasts their tender buds did crop,

  But like a girlond compassed the hight,

  And from their fruitfull sides sweet gum did drop,

  That all the ground with precious deaw bedight,

  Threw forth most dainty odours, & most sweet delight.

  And in the thickest couert of that shade,

  There was a pleasant arbour, not by art,

  But of the trees owne inclination made,

  Which knitting their rancke braunches part to part,

  With wanton yuie twyne entrayld athwart,

  And Eglantine, and Caprifole emong,

  Fashiond aboue within their inmost part,

  That nether Phoebus beams could through th&etilde; throng,

  Nor Aeolus sharp blast could worke them any wrong.

  And all about grew euery sort of flowre,

  To which sad louers were transformd of yore;

  Fresh Hyacinthus, Phoebus paramoure,

  And dearest loue:

  Foolish 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 giuen endlesse date.

  There wont faire Venus often to enioy

  Her deare Adonis ioyous company,

  And reape sweet pleasure of the wanton boy;

  There yet, some say, in secret he does ly,

  Lapped in flowres and pretious spycery,

  By her hid from the world, and from the skill

  Of Stygian Gods, which doe her loue enuy;

  But she her selfe, when euer that she will,

  Possesseth him, and of his sweetnesse takes her fill.

  And sooth it seemes they say: for he may not

  For euer die, and euer buried bee

  In balefull night, where all things are forgot;

  All be he subiect to mortalitie,

  Yet is eterne in mutabilitie,

  And by succession made perpetuall,

  Transformed oft, and chaunged diuerslie:

  For him the Father of all formes they call;

  Therefore needs mote he liue, that liuing giues to all.

  There now he liueth in eternall blis,

  Ioying 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 loue his malice mote auoyd,

  In a strong rocky Caue, which is they say,

  Hewen vnderneath that Mount, that none him losen may.

  There now he liues in euerlasting ioy,

  With many of the Gods in company,

  Which thither haunt, and with the winged boy

  Sporting himselfe in safe felicity:

  Who when he hath with spoiles and cruelty

  Ransackt the world, and in the wofull harts

  Of many wretches set his triumphes hye,

  Thither resorts, and laying his sad darts

  Aside, with faire Adonis playes his wanton parts.

  And his true loue faire Psyche with him playes,

  Faire Psyche to him lately reconcyld,

  After long troubles and vnmeet vpbrayes,

  With which his mother Venus her reuyld,

  And eke himselfe her cruelly exyld:

  But now in stedfast loue and happy state

  She with him liues, and hath him borne a chyld,

  Pleasure, that doth both gods and men aggrate,

  Pleasure, the daughter of Cupid and Psyche late.

  Hither great Venus brought this infant faire,

  The younger daughter of Chrysogonee,

  And vnto Psyche with great trust and care

  Committed her, yfostered to bee,

  And trained vp in true 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 loue, and goodly womanhead.

  In which when she to perfect ripenesse grew,

  Of grace and beautie noble Paragone,

  She brought her forth into the worldes vew,

  To be th'ensample of true loue alone,

  And Lodestarre of all chaste affectione,

  To all faire Ladies, that doe liue on ground.

  To Faery court she came, where many one

  Admyrd her goodly haueour, and found

  His feeble hart wide launched with loues cruell wound.

  But she to none of them her loue did cast,

  Saue to the noble knight Sir Scudamore,

  To whom her louing hart she linked fast

  In faithfull loue, t'abide for euer more,

  And for his dearest sake endured sore,

  Sore trouble of an hainous enimy;

  Who her would forced haue to haue forlore

  Her former loue, and stedfast loialty,

  As ye may elsewhere read that ruefull history.

  But well I weene, ye first desire to learne,

  What end vnto that fearefull Damozell,

  Which fled so fast from that same foster stearne,

  Whom with his brethren Timias slew, befell:

  That was to weet, the goodly Florimell;

  Who wandring for to seeke her louer deare,

  Her louer deare, her dearest Marinell,

  Into misfortune fell, as ye did heare,

  And from Prince Arthur fled with wings of idle feare.

  Cant. VII.

  The witches sonne loues Florimell:

  she flyes, he faines to die.

  Satyrane saues the Squire of Dames

  from Gyants tyrannie.

  L Ike as an Hynd forth singled from the heard,

  That hath escaped from a rauenous beast,

  Yet flyes away of her owne feet affeard,

  And euery leafe, that shaketh with the least

  Murmure of winde, her terror hath encreast;

  So fled faire Florimell from her vaine feare,

  Long after she from perill was releast:

  Each shade she saw, and each noyse she did heare,

  Did seeme to be the same, which she escapt whyleare.

  All that same euening she in flying spent,

  And all that night her course continewed:

  Ne did she let dull sleepe once to relent,

  Nor wearinesse to slacke her hast, but fled

  Euer alike, as if her former dred

  Were hard behind, her readie to arrest:

  And her white Palfrey hauing conquered

  The maistring raines out of her weary wrest,

  Perforce her carried, where euer he thought best.

  So long as breath, and hable puissance

  Did natiue courage vnto him supply,

  His pace he freshly forward did aduaunce,

  And carried her beyond all ieopardy,

 
; But nought that wanteth rest, can long aby.

  He hauing through incessant trauell spent

  His force, at last perforce a downe did ly,

  Ne foot could further moue: the Lady gent

  Thereat was suddein strooke with great astonishment.

  And forst t'alight, on foot mote algates fare,

  A traueller vnwonted to such way:

  Need teacheth her this lesson hard and rare,

  That fortune all in equall launce doth sway,

  And mortall miseries doth make her play.

  So long she trauelled, till at length she came

  To an hilles side, which did to her bewray

  A little valley, subiect to the same,

  All couerd with thick woods, that quite it ouercame.

  Through the tops of the high trees she did descry

  A litle smoke, whose vapour thin and light,

  Reeking aloft, vprolled to the sky:

  Which, chearefull signe did send vnto her sight,

  That in the same did wonne some liuing wight.

  Eftsoones her steps she thereunto applyde,

  And came at last in weary wretched plight

  Vnto the place, to which her hope did guyde,

  To find some refuge there, and rest her weary syde.

  There in a gloomy hollow glen she found

  A little cottage, built of stickes and reedes

  In homely wize, and wald with sods around,

  In which a witch did dwell, in loathly weedes,

  And wilfull want, all carelesse of her needes;

  So choosing solitarie to abide,

  Far from all neighbours, that her deuilish deedes

  And hellish arts from people she might hide,

  And hurt far off vnknowne, whom euer she enuide.

  The Damzell there arriuing 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 vpstarted from the dustie ground,

  And with fell 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.

  At last turning her feare to foolish wrath,

  She askt, what deuill had her thither brought,

  And who she was, and what vnwonted path

  Had guided her, vnwelcomed, vnsought?

  To which the Damzell full of doubtfull thought,

  Her mildly answer'd; Beldame be not wroth

  With silly Virgin by aduenture brought

  Vnto your dwelling, ignorant and loth,

  That craue but rowme to rest, while tempest ouerblo'th.

  With that adowne out of her Christall eyne

  Few trickling teares she softly forth let fall,

  That like two Orient pearles, did purely shyne

  Vpon her snowy cheeke; and therewithall

  She sighed soft, that none so bestiall,

  Nor saluage hart, but ruth of her sad plight

  Would make to melt, or pitteously appall;

  And that vile Hag, all were her whole delight

  In mischiefe, was much moued at so pitteous sight.

  And gan recomfort her in her rude wyse,

  With womanish compassion of her plaint,

  Wiping the teares from her suffused eyes,

  And bidding her sit downe, to rest her faint

  And wearie limbs a while. She nothing quaint

  Nor s'deignfull of so homely fashion,

  Sith brought she was now to so hard constraint,

  Sate downe vpon the dusty ground anon,

  As glad of that small rest, as Bird of tempest gon.

  Tho gan she gather vp 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 heauenly hew,

  And doubted her to deeme an earthly wight,

  But or some Goddesse, or of Dianes crew,

  And thought her to adore with humble spright;

  T'adore thing so diuine as beauty, were but right.

  This wicked woman had a wicked sonne,

  The comfort of her age and weary dayes,

  A laesie loord, for nothing good to donne,

  But stretched forth in idlenesse alwayes,

  Ne euer cast his mind to couet prayse,

  Or ply him selfe to any honest trade,

  But all the day before the sunny rayes

  He vs'd to slug, or sleepe in slothfull shade:

  Such laesinesse both lewd and poore attonce him made.

  He comming home at vndertime, there found

  The fairest creature, that he euer saw,

  Sitting beside his mother on the ground;

  The sight whereof did greatly him adaw,

  And his base thought with terrour and with aw

  So inly smot, that as one, which had gazed

  On the bright Sunne vnwares, doth soone withdraw

  His feeble eyne, with too much brightnesse dazed,

  So stared he on her, and stood long while amazed.

  Softly at last he gan his mother aske,

  What mister wight that was, and whence deriued,

  That in so straunge disguizement there did maske,

  And by what accident she there arriued:

  But she, as one nigh of her wits depriued,

  With nought but ghastly lookes him answered,

  Like to a ghost, that lately is reuiued

  From Stygian shores, where late it wandered;

  So both at her, and each at other wondered.

  But the faire Virgin was so meeke and mild,

  That she to them vouchsafed to embace

  Her goodly port, and to their senses vild,

  Her gentle speach applide, that in short space

  She grew familiare in that desert place.

  During which time, the Chorle through her so kind

  And curteise vse conceiu'd affection bace,

  And cast to loue her in his brutish mind;

  No loue, 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 vnto her to vtter his desire;

  His caytiue thought durst not so high aspire,

  But with soft sighes, and louely semblaunces,

  He ween'd that his affection entire

  She should aread; many resemblaunces

  To her he made, and many kind remembraunces.

  Oft from the forrest wildings he did bring,

  Whose sides empurpled were with smiling red,

  And oft young birds, which he had taught to sing

  His mistresse prayses, sweetly caroled,

  Girlonds of flowres sometimes for her faire hed

  He fine would dight; sometimes the squirell wild

  He brought to her in bands, as conquered

  To be her thrall, his fellow seruant vild;

  All which, she of him tooke with countenance meeke and mild.

  But past awhile, when she fit season saw

  To leaue that desert mansion, she cast

  In secret wize her selfe 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 recouered after long repast,

  In his proud furnitures she freshly dight,

  His late miswandred wayes now to remeasure right.

  And earely ere the dawning day appeard,

  She forth issewed, and on her iourney went;

  She went in perill, of each noyse affeard,

  And of each
shade, that did it selfe present;

  For still she feared to be ouerhent,

  Of that vile hag, or her vnciuile sonne:

  Who when too late awaking, well they kent,

  That their faire guest was gone, they both begonne

  To make exceeding mone, as they had bene vndonne.

  But that lewd louer did the most lament

  For her depart, that euer man did heare;

  He knockt 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 loue to frenzy turnd, sith loue is franticke hight.

  All wayes she sought, him to restore to plight,

  With herbs, with charms, with coũsell, & with teares,

  But tears, nor charms, nor herbs, nor counsell might

  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 her selfe backe to her wicked leares

  And by her deuilish arts thought to preuaile,

  To bring her backe againe, or worke her finall bale.

  Eftsoones out of her hidden caue she cald

  An hideous beast, of horrible aspect,

  That could the stoutest courage haue appald;

  Monstrous mishapt, and all his backe was spect

  With thousand spots of colours queint elect,

  Thereto so swift, that it all beasts did pas:

  Like neuer yet did liuing eye detect;

  But likest it to an Hyena was,

  That feeds on womens flesh, as others feede on gras.

  It forth she cald, and gaue it streight in charge,

  Through thicke and thin her to pursew apace,

  Ne once to stay to rest, or breath at large,

  Till her he had attaind, and brought in place,

  Or quite deuourd her beauties scornefull grace.

  The Monster swift as word, that from her went,

  Went forth in hast, and did her footing trace

  So sure and swiftly, through his perfect scent,

  And passing speede, that shortly he her ouerhent.