The Faerie Queene

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by The Faerie Queen(Lit)


  Ne any Lake, that seems most still and slowe,

  Ne Poole so small, that can his smoothnesse holde,

  When any winde doth vnder heauen blowe;

  With which, the clouds are also tost and roll'd;

  Now like great Hills; &, streight, like sluces, them vnfold.

  So likewise are all watry liuing wights

  Still tost, and turned, with continuall change

  Neuer abyding in their stedfast plights.

  The fish, still floting, doe at randon range,

  And neuer rest; but euermore exchange

  Their dwelling places, as the streames them carrie:

  Ne haue the watry foules a certaine grange,

  Wherein to rest, ne in one stead do tarry;

  But flitting still doe flie, and still their places vary.

  Next is the Ayre: which who feeles not by sense

  (For, of all sense it is the middle meane)

  To flit still? and, with subtill influence

  Of his thin spirit, all creatures to maintaine,

  In state of life? O weake life! that does leane

  On thing so tickle as th'vnsteady ayre;

  Which euery howre is chang'd, and altred cleane

  With euery blast that bloweth fowle or faire:

  The faire doth it prolong; the fowle doth it impaire.

  Therein the changes infinite beholde,

  Which to her creatures euery minute chaunce;

  Now, boyling hot: streight, friezing deadly cold:

  Now, faire sun-shine, that makes all skip and daunce:

  Streight, bitter storms and balefull countenance,

  That makes them all to shiuer and to shake:

  Rayne, hayle, and snowe do pay them sad penance,

  And dreadfull thunder-claps (that make them quake)

  With flames & flashing lights that thousand changes make.

  Last is the fire: which, though it liue for euer,

  Ne can be quenched quite; yet, euery day,

  Wee see his parts, so soone as they do seuer,

  To lose their heat, and shortly to decay;

  So, makes himself his owne consuming pray.

  Ne any liuing creatures doth he breed:

  But all, that are of others bredd, doth slay;

  And, with their death, his cruell life dooth feed;

  Nought leauing, but their barren ashes, without seede.

  Thus, all these fower (the which the ground-work bee

  Of all the world, and of all liuing wights)

  To thousand sorts of Change we subiect see:

  Yet are they chang'd (by other wondrous slights)

  Into themselues, and lose their natiue mights;

  The Fire to Aire, and th'Ayre to Water sheere,

  And Water into Earth : yet Water fights

  With Fire, and Aire with Earth approaching neere:

  Yet all are in one body, and as one appeare.

  So, in them all raignes Mutabilitie;

  How-euer these, that Gods themselues do call,

  Of them doe claime the rule and souerainty:

  As, Vesta, of the fire æthereall;

  Vulcan, of this, with vs so vsuall;

  Ops, of the earth; and Iuno of the Ayre;

  Neptune, of Seas; and Nymphes, of Riuers all.

  For, all those Riuers to me subiect are:

  And all the rest, which they vsurp, be all my share.

  Which to approuen true, as I haue told,

  Vouchsafe, ô goddesse, to thy presence call

  The rest which doe the world in being hold:

  As, times and seasons of the yeare that fall:

  Of all the which, demand in generall,

  Or iudge thy selfe, by verdit of thine eye,

  Whether to me they are not subiect all.

  Nature did yeeld thereto; and by-and-by,

  Bade Order call them all, before her Maiesty.

  So, forth issew'd the Seasons of the yeare;

  First, lusty Spring, all dight in leaues of flowres

  That freshly budded and new bloosmes did beare

  (In which a thousand birds had built their bowres

  That sweetly sung, to call forth Paramours):

  And in his hand a iauelin he did beare,

  And on his head (as fit for warlike stoures)

  A guilt engrauen morion he did weare;

  That as some did him loue, so others did him feare.

  Then came the iolly Sommer, being dight

  In a thin silken cassock coloured greene,

  That was vnlyned all, to be more light:

  And on his head a girlond well beseene

  He wore, from which as he had chauffed been

  The sweat did drop; and in his hand he bore

  A boawe and shaftes, as he in forrest greene

  Had hunted late the Libbard or the Bore,

  And now would bathe his limbes, with labor heated sore.

  Then came the Autumne all in yellow clad,

  As though he ioyed in his plentious store,

  Laden with fruits that made him laugh, full glad

  That he had banisht hunger, which to-fore

  Had by the belly oft him pinched sore.

  Vpon his head a wreath that was enrold

  With eares of corne, of euery sort he bore:

  And in his hand a sickle he did holde,

  To reape the ripened fruits the which the earth had yold.

  Lastly, came Winter cloathed all in frize,

  Chattering his teeth for cold that did him chill,

  Whil'st on his hoary beard his breath did freese;

  And the dull drops that from his purpled bill

  As from a limbeck did adown distill.

  In his right hand a tipped staffe he held,

  With which his feeble steps he stayed still:

  For, he was faint with cold, and weak with eld;

  That scarse his loosed limbes he hable was to weld.

  These, marching softly, thus in order went,

  And after them, the Monthes all riding came;

  First, sturdy March with brows full sternly bent,

  And armed strongly, rode vpon a Ram,

  The same which ouer Hellespontus swam:

  Yet in his hand a spade he also hent,

  And in a bag all sorts of seeds ysame,

  Which on the earth he strowed as he went,

  And fild her womb with fruitfull hope of nourishment.

  Next came fresh Aprill full of lustyhed,

  And wanton as a Kid whose horne new buds:

  Vpon a Bull he rode, the same which led

  Europa floting through th'Argolick fluds:

  His hornes were gilden all with golden studs

  And garnished with garlonds goodly dight

  Of all the fairest flowres and freshest buds

  Which th'earth brings forth, and wet he seem'd in sight

  With waues, through which he waded for his loues delight.

  Then came faire May, the fayrest mayd on ground,

  Deckt all with dainties of her seasons pryde,

  And throwing flowres out of her lap around:

  Vpon two brethrens shoulders she did ride,

  The twinnes of Leda; which on eyther side

  Supported her like to their soueraine Queene.

  Lord! how all creatures laught, when her they spide,

  And leapt and daunc't as they had rauisht beene!

  And Cupid selfe about her fluttred all in greene.

  And after her, came iolly Iune, arrayd

  All in greene leaues, as he a Player were;

  Yet in his time, he wrought as well as playd,

  That by his plough-yrons mote right well appeare:

  Vpon a Crab he rode, that him did beare

  With crooked crawling steps an vncouth pase,

  And backward yode, as Bargemen wont to fare

  Bending their force contrary to their face,

  Like that vngracious crew which faines demures
t grace.

  Then came hot Iuly boyling like to fire,

  That all his garments he had cast away:

  Vpon a Lyon raging yet with ire

  He boldly rode and made him to obay:

  It was the beast that whylome did forray

  The Nemaean forrest, till th'Amphytrionide

  Him slew, and with his hide did him array;

  Behinde his back a sithe, and by his side

  Vnder his belt he bore a sickle circling wide.

  The sixt was August, being rich arrayd

  In garment all of gold downe to the ground:

  Yet rode he not, but led a louely Mayd

  Forth by the lilly hand, the which was cround

  With eares of corne, and full her hand was found;

  That was the righteous Virgin, which of old

  Liv'd here on earth, and plenty made abound;

  But, after Wrong was lov'd and Iustice solde,

  She left th'vnrighteous world and was to heauen extold.

  Next him, September marched eeke on foote;

  Yet was he heauy laden with the spoyle

  Of haruests riches, which he made his boot,

  And him enricht with bounty of the soyle:

  In his one hand, as fit for haruests toyle,

  He held a knife-hook; and in th'other hand

  A paire of waights, with which he did assoyle

  Both more and lesse, where it in doubt did stand,

  And equall gaue to each as Iustice duly scann'd.

  Then came October full of merry glee:

  For, yet his noule was totty of the must,

  Which he was treading in the wine-fats see,

  And of the ioyous oyle, whose gentle gust

  Made him so frollick and so full of lust:

  Vpon a dreadfull Scorpion he did ride,

  The same which by Dianaes doom vniust

  Slew great Orion: and eeke by his side

  He had his ploughing share, and coulter ready tyde.

  Next was Nouember, he full grosse and fat,

  As fed with lard, and that right well might seeme;

  For, he had been a fatting hogs of late,

  That yet his browes with sweat, did reek and steem,

  And yet the season was full sharp and breem;

  In planting eeke he took no small delight:

  Whereon he rode, not easie was to deeme;

  For it a dreadfull Centaure was in sight,

  The seed of Saturne, and faire Nais, Chiron hight,

  And after him, came next the chill December:

  Yet he through merry feasting which he made,

  And great bonfires, did not the cold remember;

  His Sauiours birth his mind so much did glad:

  Vpon a shaggy-bearded Goat he rode,

  The same wherewith Dan Ioue in tender yeares,

  They say, was nourisht by th'I[d]oean mayd;

  And in his hand a broad deepe boawle he beares;

  Of which, he freely drinks an health to all his peeres.

  Then came old Ianuary, wrapped well

  In many weeds to keep the cold away;

  Yet did he quake and quiuer like to quell,

  And blowe his nayles to warme them if he may:

  For, they were numbd with holding all the day

  An hatchet keene, with which he felled wood,

  And from the trees did lop the needlesse spray:

  Vpon an huge great Earth-pot steane he stood;

  From whose wide mouth, there flowed forth the Romane floud.

  And lastly, came cold February, sitting

  In an old wagon, for he could not ride;

  Drawne of two fishes for the season fitting,

  Which through the flood before did softly slyde

  And swim away: yet had he by his side

  His plough and harnesse fit to till the ground,

  And tooles to prune the trees, before the pride

  Of hasting Prime did make them burgein round:

  So past the twelue Months forth, & their dew places found.

  And after these, there came the Day, and Night,

  Riding together both with equall pace,

  Th'one on a Palfrey blacke, the other white;

  But Night had couered her vncomely face

  With a blacke veile, and held in hand a mace,

  On top whereof the moon and stars were pight,

  And sleep and darknesse round about did trace:

  But Day did beare, vpon his scepters hight,

  The goodly Sun, encompast all with beames bright.

  Then came the Howres, faire daughters of high Ioue,

  And timely Night, the which were all endewed

  With wondrous beauty fit to kindle loue;

  But they were Virgins all, and loue eschewed,

  That might forslack the charge to them fore-shewed

  By mighty Ioue; who did them Porters make

  Of heauens gate (whence all the gods issued)

  Which they did dayly watch, and nightly wake

  By euen turnes, ne euer did their charge forsake.

  And after all came Life, and lastly Death;

  Death with most grim and griesly visage seene,

  Yet is he nought but parting of the breath;

  Ne ought to see, but like a shade to weene,

  Vnbodied, vnsoul'd, vnheard, vnseene.

  But Life was like a faire young lusty boy,

  Such as they faine Dan Cupid to haue beene,

  Full of delightfull health and liuely ioy.

  Deckt all with flowres, and wings of gold fit to employ.

  When these were past, thus gan the Titanesse;

  Lo, mighty mother, now be iudge and say,

  Whether in all thy creatures more or lesse

  CHANGE doth not raign & beare the greatest sway:

  For, who sees not, that Time on all doth pray?

  But Times do change and moue continually.

  So nothing here long standeth in one stay:

  Wherefore, this lower world who can deny

  But to be subiect still to Mutabilitie?

  Then thus gan Ioue; Right true it is, that these

  And all things else that vnder heauen dwell

  Are chaung'd of Time, who doth them all disseise

  Of being : But, who is it (to me tell)

  That Time himselfe doth moue and still compell

  To keepe his course? Is not that namely wee

  Which poure that vertue from our heauenly cell,

  That moues them all, and makes them changed be?

  So them we gods doe rule, and in them also thee.

  To whom, thus Mutability: The things

  Which we see not how they are mov'd and swayd,

  Ye may attribute to your selues as Kings,

  And say they by your secret powre are made:

  But what we see not, who shall vs perswade?

  But were they so, as ye them faine to be,

  Mov'd by your might, and ordred by your ayde;

  Yet what if I can proue, that euen yee

  Your selues are likewise chang'd, and subiect vnto mee?

  And first, concerning her that is the first,

  Euen you faire Cynthia, whom so much ye make

  Ioues dearest darling, she was bred and nurst

  On Cynthus hill, whence she her name did take:

  Then is she mortall borne, how-so ye crake;

  Besides, her face and countenance euery day

  We changed see, and sundry forms partake,

  Now hornd, now ro&utild;d, now bright, now brown & gray:

  So that as changefull as the Moone men vse to say.

  Next, Mercury, who though he lesse appeare

  To change his hew, and alwayes seeme as one;

  Yet, he his course doth altar euery yeare,

  And is of late far out of order gone:

  So Venus eeke, that goodly Paragone,

  Though faire all night, yet is she darke all day;


  And Phoebus self, who lightsome is alone,

  Yet is he oft eclipsed by the way,

  And fills the darkned world with terror and dismay.

  Now Mars that valiant man is changed most:

  For, he some times so far runs out of square,

  That he his way doth seem quite to haue lost,

  And cleane without his vsuall sphere to fare;

  That euen these Star-gazers stonisht are

  At sight thereof, and damne their lying bookes:

  So likewise, grim Sir Saturne oft doth spare

  His sterne aspect, and calme his crabbed lookes:

  So many turning cranks these haue, so many crookes.

  But you Dan Ioue, that only constant are,

  And King of all the rest, as ye do clame,

  Are you not subiect eeke to this misfare?

  Then let me aske you this withouten blame,

  Where were ye borne? some say in Crete by name,

  Others in Thebes, and others other-where;

  But wheresoeuer they comment the same,

  They all consent that ye begotten were,

  And borne here in this world, ne other can appeare.

  Then are ye mortall borne, and thrall to me,

  Vnlesse the kingdome of the sky yee make

  Immortall, and vnchangeable to bee;

  Besides, that power and vertue which ye spake,

  That ye here worke, doth many changes take,

  And your owne natures change: for, each of you

  That vertue haue, or this, or that to make,

  Is checkt and changed from his nature trew,

  By others opposition or obliquid view.

  Besides, the sundry motions of your Spheares,

  So sundry waies and fashions as clerkes faine,

  Some in short space, and some in longer yeares;

  What is the same but alteration plaine?

  Onely the starrie skie doth still remaine:

  Yet do the Starres and Signes therein still moue,

  And euen it self is mov'd, as wizards saine.

  But all that moueth, doth mutation loue:

  Therefore both you and them to me I subiect proue.

  Then since within this wide great Vniuerse

  Nothing doth firme and permanent appeare,

  But all things tost and turned by transuerse:

  What then should let, but I aloft should reare

 

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