The Faerie Queene

by The Faerie Queen(Lit)

  So home vnto his honest wife it bore,

  Who as her owne it nurst, and named euermore.

  Thus long continu'd Claribell a thrall,

  And Bellamour in bands, till that her syre

  Departed life, and left vnto them all.

  Then all the stormes of fortunes former yre

  Were turnd, and they to freedome did retyre.

  Thenceforth they ioy'd in happinesse together,

  And liued long in peace and loue entyre,

  Without disquiet or dislike of ether,

  Till time that Calidore brought Pastorella thether.

  Both whom they goodly well did entertaine;

  For Bellamour knew Calidore right well,

  And loued for his prowesse, sith they twaine

  Long since had fought in field. Als Claribell

  No lesse did tender the faire Pastorell,

  Seeing her weake and wan, through durance long.

  There they a while together thus did dwell

  In much delight, and many ioyes among,

  Vntill the damzell gan to wex more sound and strong.

  Tho gan Sir Calidore him to aduize

  Of his first quest, which he had long forlore;

  Asham'd to thinke, how he that enterprize,

  The which the Faery Queene had long afore

  Bequeath'd to him, forslacked had so sore;

  That much he feared, least reprochfull blame

  With foule dishonour him mote blot therefore;

  Besides the losse of so much loos and fame,

  As through the world thereby should glorifie his name.

  Therefore resoluing to returne in hast

  Vnto so great atchieuement, he bethought

  To leaue his Loue, now perill being past,

  With Claribell, whylest he that monster sought

  Throughout the world, and to destruction brought.

  So taking leaue of his faire Pastorell,

  Whom to recomfort, all the meanes he wrought,

  With thanks to Bellamour and Claribell,

  He went forth on his quest, and did, that him befell.

  But first, ere I doe his aduentures tell,

  In this exploite, me needeth to declare,

  What did betide to the faire Pastorell,

  During his absence left in heauy care,

  Through daily mourning, and nightly misfare:

  Yet did that auncient matrone all she might,

  To cherish her with all things choice and rare;

  And her owne handmayd, that Melissa hight,

  Appointed to attend her dewly day and night.

  Who in a morning, when this Mayden faire

  Was dighting her, hauing her snowy brest

  As yet not laced, nor her golden haire

  Into their comely tresses dewly drest,

  Chaunst to espy vpon her yuory chest

  The rosie marke, which she remembred well

  That litle Infant had, which forth she kest,

  The daughter of her Lady Claribell,

  The which she bore, the whiles in prison she did dwell.

  Which well auizing, streight she gan to cast

  In her conceiptfull mynd, that this faire Mayd

  Was that same infant, which so long sith past

  She in the open fields had loosely layd

  To Fortunes spoile, vnable it to ayd.

  So full of ioy, streight forth she ran in hast

  Vnto her mistresse, being halfe dismayd,

  To tell her, how the heauens had her graste,

  To saue her chylde, which in misfortunes mouth was plaste.

  The sober mother seeing such her mood,

  Yet knowing not, what meant that sodaine thro,

  Askt her, how mote her words be vnderstood,

  And what the matter was, that mou'd her so.

  My liefe (sayd she) ye know, that long ygo,

  Whilest ye in durance dwelt, ye to me gaue

  A little mayde, the which ye chylded tho;

  The same againe if now ye list to haue,

  The same is yonder Lady, whom high God did saue.

  Much was the Lady troubled at that speach,

  And gan to question streight how she it knew.

  Most certaine markes, (sayd she) do me it teach,

  For on her brest I with these eyes did vew

  The litle purple rose, which thereon grew,

  Whereof her name ye then to her did giue.

  Besides her countenaunce, and her likely hew,

  Matched with equall yeares, do surely prieue

  That yond same is your daughter sure, which yet doth liue.

  The matrone stayd no lenger to enquire,

  But forth in hast ran to the straunger Mayd;

  Whom catching greedily for great desire,

  Rent vp her brest, and bosome open layd,

  In which that rose she plainely saw displayd.

  Then her embracing twixt her armes twaine,

  She long so held, and softly weeping sayd;

  And liuest thou my daughter now againe?

  And art thou yet aliue, whom dead I long did faine.

  Tho further asking her of sundry things,

  And times comparing with their accidents,

  She found at last by very certaine signes,

  And speaking markes of passed monuments,

  That this young Mayd, whom chance to her presents

  Is her owne daughter, her owne infant deare.

  Tho wondring long at those so straunge euents,

  A thousand times she her embraced nere,

  With many a ioyfull kisse, and many a melting teare.

  Who euer is the mother of one chylde,

  Which hauing thought long dead, she fyndes aliue,

  Let her by proofe of that, which she hath fylde

  In her owne breast, this mothers ioy descriue:

  For other none such passion can contriue

  In perfect forme, as this good Lady felt,

  When she so faire a daughter saw suruiue,

  As Pastorella was, that nigh she swelt

  For passing ioy, which did all into pitty melt.

  Thence running forth vnto her loued Lord,

  She vnto him recounted, all that fell:

  Who ioyning ioy with her in one accord,

  Acknowledg'd for his owne faire Pastorell.

  There leaue we them in ioy, and let vs tell

  Of Calidore; who seeking all this while

  That monstrous Beast by finall force to quell,

  Through euery place, with restlesse paine and toile

  Him follow'd, by the tract of his outragious spoile.

  Through all estates he found that he had past,

  In which he many massacres had left,

  And to the Clergy now was come at last;

  In which such spoile, such hauocke, and such theft

  He wrought, that thence all goodnesse he bereft,

  That endlesse were to tell. The Elfin Knight,

  Who now no place besides vnsought had left,

  At length into a Monastere did light,

  Where he him foũd despoyling all with maine & might.

  Into their cloysters now he broken had,

  Through which the Monckes he chaced here & there.

  And them pursu'd into their dortours sad,

  And searched all their cels and secrets neare;

  In which what filth and ordure did appeare,

  Were yrkesome to report; yet that foule Beast

  Nought sparing them, the more did tosse and teare,

  And ransacke all their dennes from most to least,

  Regarding nought religion, nor their holy heast.

  From thence into the sacred Church he broke,

  And robd the Chancell, and the deskes downe threw,

  And Altars fouled, and blasphemy spoke,

  And th'Images for all their goodly hew,

  Did cast to ground, whilest none was them to rew;


  So all confounded and disordered there.

  But seeing Calidore, away he flew,

  Knowing his fatall hand by former feare;

  But he him fast pursuing, soone approched neare.

  Him in a narrow place he ouertooke,

  And fierce assailing forst him turne againe:

  Sternely he turnd againe, when he him strooke

  With his sharpe steele, and ran at him amaine

  With open mouth, that seemed to containe

  A full good pecke within the vtmost brim,

  All set with yron teeth in raunges twaine,

  That terrifide his foes, and armed him,

  Appearing like the mouth of Orcus griesly grim.

  And therein were a thousand tongs empight,

  Of sundry kindes, and sundry quality;

  Some were of dogs, that barked day and night,

  And some of cats, that wrawling still did cry,

  And some of Beares, that groynd continually,

  And some of Tygres, that did seeme to gren,

  And snar at all, that euer passed by:

  But most of them were tongues of mortall men,

  Which spake reprochfully, not caring where nor when.

  And them amongst were mingled here and there,

  The tongues of Serpents with three forked stings,

  That spat out poyson and gore bloudy gere

  At all, that came within his rauenings,

  And spake licentious words, and hatefull things

  Of good and bad alike, of low and hie;

  Ne Kesars spared he a whit, nor Kings,

  But either blotted them with infamie,

  Or bit them with his banefull teeth of iniury.

  But Calidore thereof no whit afrayd,

  Rencountred him with so impetuous might,

  That th'outrage of his violence he stayd,

  And bet abacke, threatning in vaine to bite,

  And spitting forth the poyson of his spight,

  That fomed all about his bloody iawes.

  Tho rearing vp his former feete on hight,

  He rampt vpon him with his rauenous pawes,

  As if he would haue rent him with his cruell clawes.

  But he right well aware, his rage to ward,

  Did cast his shield atweene, and therewithall

  Putting his puissaunce forth, pursu'd so hard,

  That backeward he enforced him to fall:

  And being downe, ere he new helpe could call,

  His shield he on him threw, and fast downe held;

  Like as a bullocke, that in bloudy stall

  Of butchers balefull hand to ground is feld,

  Is forcibly kept downe, till he be throughly queld.

  Full cruelly the Beast did rage and rore,

  To be downe held, and maystred so with might,

  That he gan fret and fome out bloudy gore,

  Striuing in vaine to rere him selfe vpright.

  For still the more he stroue, the more the Knight

  Did him suppresse, and forcibly subdew;

  That made him almost mad for fell despight.

  He grind, hee bit, he scratcht, he venim threw,

  And fared like a feend, right horrible in hew.

  Or like the hell-borne Hydra, which they faine

  That great Alcides whilome ouerthrew,

  After that he had labourd long in vaine,

  To crop his thousand heads, the which still new

  Forth budded, and in greater number grew.

  Such was the fury of this hellish Beast,

  Whilest Calidore him vnder him downe threw;

  Who nathemore his heauy load releast,

  But aye the more he rag'd, the more his powre increast.

  Tho when the Beast saw, he mote nought auaile,

  By force, he gan his hundred tongues apply,

  And sharpely at him to reuile and raile,

  With bitter termes of shamefull infamy;

  Oft interlacing many a forged lie,

  Whose like he neuer once did speake, nor heare,

  Nor euer thought thing so vnworthily:

  Yet did he nought for all that him forbeare,

  But strained him so streightly, that he chokt him neare.

  At last when as he found his force to shrincke,

  And rage to quaile, he tooke a muzzell strong

  Of surest yron, made with many a lincke;

  Therewith he mured vp his mouth along,

  And therein shut vp his blasphemous tong,

  For neuer more defaming gentle Knight,

  Or vnto louely Lady doing wrong:

  And thereunto a great long chaine he tight,

  With which he drew him forth, euen in his own despight.

  Like as whylome that strong Tirynthian swaine,

  Brought forth with him the dreadfull dog of hell,

  Against his will fast bound in yron chaine,

  And roring horribly, did him compell

  To see the hatefull sunne, that he might tell

  To griesly Pluto, what on earth was donne,

  And to the other damned ghosts, which dwell

  For aye in darkenesse, which day light doth shonne:

  So led this Knight his captyue with like conquest wonne.

  Yet greatly did the Beast repine at those

  Straunge bands, whose like till then he neuer bore,

  Ne euer any durst till then impose,

  And chauffed inly, seeing now no more

  Him liberty was left aloud to rore:

  Yet durst he not draw backe; nor once withstand

  The proued powre of noble Calidore,

  But trembled vnderneath his mighty hand,

  And like a fearefull dog him followed through the land.

  Him through all Faery land he follow'd so,

  As if he learned had obedience long,

  That all the people where so he did go,

  Out of their townes did round about him throng,

  To see him leade that Beast in bondage strong,

  And seeing it, much wondred at the sight;

  And all such persons, as he earst did wrong,

  Reioyced much to see his captiue plight,

  And much admyr'd the Beast, but more admyr'd the Knight.

  Thus was this Monster by the maystring might

  Of doughty Calidore, supprest and tamed,

  That neuer more he mote endammadge wight

  With his vile tongue, which many had defamed,

  And many causelesse caused to be blamed:

  So did he eeke long after this remaine,

  Vntill that, whether wicked fate so framed,

  Or fault of men, he broke his yron chaine,

  And got into the world at liberty againe.

  Thenceforth more mischiefe and more scath he wrought

  To mortall men, then he had done before;

  Ne euer could by any more be brought

  Into like bands, ne maystred any more:

  Albe that long time after Calidore,

  The good Sir Pelleas him tooke in hand,

  And after him Sir Lamoracke of yore,

  And all his brethren borne in Britaine land;

  Yet none of them could euer bring him into band.

  So now he raungeth through the world againe,

  And rageth sore in each degree and state;

  Ne any is, that may him now restraine,

  He growen is so great and strong of late,

  Barking and biting all that him doe bate,

  Albe they worthy blame, or cleare of crime:

  Ne spareth he most learned wits to rate,

  Ne spareth he the gentle Poets rime,

  But rends without regard of person or of time.

  Ne may this homely verse, of many meanest,

  Hope to escape his venemous despite,

  More then my former writs, all were they clearest

  From blamefull blot, and free from all that wite,

  With which some wicked tongues d
id it backebite,

  And bring into a mighty Peres displeasure,

  That neuer so deserued to endite.

  Therfore do you my rimes keep better measure,

  And seeke to please, that now is counted wisemens threasure.

  FINIS

  TWO CANTOS

  OF

  MVTABILITIE:

  Which, both for Forme and Matter, appeare to be

  parcell of some following Booke of the

  FAERIE QUEENE,

  VNDER THE LEGEND

  OF

  Constancie.

  Neuer before imprinted.

  Cant. VI.

  Proud Change (not pleasd, in mortall things,

  beneath the Moone, to raigne)

  Pretends, as well of Gods, as Men,

  to be the Soueraine.

  W Hat man that sees the euer-whirling wheele

  Of Change, the which all mortall things doth sway,

  But that therby doth find, & plainly feele,

  How MVTABILITY in them doth play

  Her cruell sports, to many mens decay?

  Which that to all may better yet appeare,

  I will rehearse that whylome I heard say,

  How she at first her selfe began to reare,

  Gainst all the Gods, and th'empire sought from them to beare.

  But first, here falleth fittest to vnfold

  Her antique race and linage ancient,

  As I haue found it registred of old,

  In Faery Land mongst records permanent:

  She was, to weet, a daughter by descent

  Of those old Titans, that did whylome striue

  VVith Saturnes sonne for heauens regiment.

  Whom, though high Ioue of kingdome did depriue,

  Yet many of their stemme long after did surviue.

  And many of them, afterwards obtain'd

  Great power of Ioue, and high authority;

  As Hecaté, in whose almighty hand,

  He plac't all rule and principality,

  To be by her disposed diuersly,

  To Gods, and men, as she them list diuide:

  And drad Bellona, that doth sound on hie

  Warres and allarums vnto Nations wide,

  That makes both heauen & earth to tremble at her pride.