The Faerie Queene

by The Faerie Queen(Lit)

  Which wrought it, could the same recure againe.

  Therewith she stayd her hand, loth stayd to bee;

  For life she him enuyde, and long'd reuenge to see.

  And to him said, Thou wicked man, whose meed

  For so huge mischiefe, and vile villany

  Is death, or if that ought do death exceed,

  Be sure, that nought may saue thee from to dy,

  But if that thou this Dame doe presently

  Restore vnto her health, and former state;

  This doe and liue, else die vndoubtedly.

  He glad of life, that lookt for death but late,

  Did yield himselfe right willing to prolong his date.

  And rising vp, gan streight to ouerlooke,

  Those cursed leaues, his charmes backe to reuerse;

  Full dreadfull things out of that balefull booke

  He red, and measur'd many a sad verse,

  That horror gan the virgins hart to perse,

  And her faire locks vp stared stiffe on end,

  Hearing him those same bloudy lines reherse;

  And all the while he red, she did extend

  Her sword high ouer him, if ought he did offend.

  Anon she gan perceiue the house to quake,

  And all the dores to rattle round about;

  Yet all that did not her dismaied make,

  Nor slacke her threatfull hand for daungers dout,

  But still with stedfast eye and courage stout

  Abode, to weet what end would come of all.

  At last that mightie chaine, which round about

  Her tender waste was wound, adowne gan fall,

  And that great brasen pillour broke in peeces small.

  The cruell steele, which thrild her dying hart,

  Fell softly forth, as of his owne accord,

  And the wyde wound, which lately did dispart

  Her bleeding brest, and riuen bowels gor'd,

  Was closed vp, as it had not bene bor'd,

  And euery part to safety full sound,

  As she were neuer hurt, was soone restor'd:

  Tho when she felt her selfe to be vnbound,

  And perfect hole, prostrate she fell vnto the ground.

  Before faire Britomart, she fell prostrate,

  Saying, Ah noble knight, what worthy meed

  Can wretched Lady, quit from wofull state,

  Yield you in liew of this your gratious deed?

  Your vertue selfe her owne reward shall breed,

  Euen immortall praise, and glory wyde,

  Which I your vassall, by your prowesse freed,

  Shall through the world make to be notifyde,

  And goodly well aduance, that goodly well was tryde.

  But Britomart vprearing her from ground,

  Said, Gentle Dame, reward enough I weene

  For many labours more, then I haue found,

  This, that in safety now I haue you seene,

  And meane of your deliuerance haue beene:

  Henceforth faire Lady comfort to you take,

  And put away remembrance of late teene;

  In stead thereof know, that your louing Make,

  Hath no lesse griefe endured for your gentle sake.

  She much was cheard to heare him mentiond,

  Whom of all liuing wights she loued best.

  Then laid the noble Championesse strong hond

  Vpon th'enchaunter, which had her distrest

  So sore, and with foule outrages opprest:

  With that great chaine, wherewith not long ygo

  He bound that pitteous Lady prisoner, now relest,

  Himselfe she bound, more worthy to be so,

  And captiue with her led to wretchednesse and wo.

  Returning backe, those goodly roomes, which erst

  She saw so rich and royally arayd,

  Now vanisht vtterly, and cleane subuerst

  She found, and all their glory quite decayd,

  That sight of such a chaunge her much dismayd.

  Thence forth descending to that perlous Porch,

  Those dreadfull flames she also found delayd,

  And quenched quite, like a consumed torch,

  That erst all entrers wont so cruelly to scorch.

  More easie issew now, then entrance late

  She found: for now that fained dreadfull flame,

  Which chokt the porch of that enchaunted gate,

  And passage bard to all, that thither came,

  Was vanisht quite, as it were not the same,

  And gaue her leaue at pleasure forth to passe.

  Th'Enchaunter selfe, which all that fraud did frame,

  To haue efforst the loue of that faire lasse,

  Seeing his worke now wasted deepe engrieued was.

  But when the victoresse arriued there,

  Where late she left the pensife Scudamore,

  With her owne trusty Squire, both full of feare,

  Neither of them she found where she them lore:

  Thereat her noble hart was stonisht sore;

  But most faire Amoret, whose gentle spright

  Now gan to feede on hope, which she before

  Conceiued had, to see her owne dear knight,

  Being thereof beguyld was fild with new affright.

  But he sad man, when he had long in drede

  Awayted there for Britomarts returne,

  Yet saw her not nor signe of her good speed,

  His expectation to despaire did turne,

  Misdeeming sure that her those flames did burne;

  And therefore gan aduize with her old Squire,

  Who her deare nourslings losse no lesse did mourne,

  Thence to depart for further aide t'enquire:

  Where let them wend at will, whilest here I doe respire.

  STANZAS IN 1590 REPLACED IN 1596 WITH OTHERS.

  At last she came vnto the place, where late

  She left Sir Scudamour in great distresse,

  Twixt dolour and despight halfe desperate,

  Of his loues succour, of his owne redresse,

  And of the hardie Britomarts successe:

  There on the cold earth him now thrown she found,

  In wilfull anguish, and dead heauinesse,

  And to him cald; whose voices knowen sound

  Soone as he heard, himself he reared light from ground.

  There did he see, that most on earth him ioyd,

  His dearest loue, the comfort of his dayes,

  Whose too long absence him had sore annoyd,

  And wearied his life with dull delayes:

  Straight he vpstarted from the loathed layes,

  And to her ran with hasty egernesse,

  Like as a Deare, that greedily embayes

  In the coole soile, after long thirstinesse,

  Which he in chace endured hath, now nigh breathlesse.

  Lightly he clipt her twixt his armes twaine,

  And streightly did embrace her body bright,

  Her body, late the prison of sad paine,

  Now the sweet lodge of loue and deare delight:

  But she faire Lady ouercommen quight

  Of huge affection, did in pleasure melt,

  And in sweete rauishment pourd out her spright:

  No word they spake, nor earthly thing they felt,

  But like two senceles stocks in long embracem&etilde;t dwelt.

  Had ye them seene, ye would haue surely thought,

  That they had beene that faire Hermaphrodite,

  Which that rich Romane of white marble wrought,

  And in his costly Bath causd to bee site:

  So seemd those two, as growne together quite,

  That Britomart halfe enuying their b[l]esse,

  Was much empassiond in her gentle sprite,

  And to her selfe oft wisht like happinesse,

  In vaine she wisht, that fate n'ould let her yet possesse.

  Thus doe those louers with sweet counteruayle,

 
Each other of loues bitter fruit despoile.

  But now my teme begins to faint and fayle,

  All woxen weary of their iournall toyle:

  Therefore I will their sweatie yokes assoyle,

  At this same furrowes end, till a new day:

  And ye faire swayns, after your long turmoyle,

  Now cease your worke, and at your pleasure play:

  Now cease your worke; to morrow is an holy day.

  THE FOVRTH

  BOOKE OF THE

  FAERIE QVEENE.

  Containing

  The Legend of Cambel and Telamond,

  OR

  OF FRIENDSHIP.

  THe rugged forhead that with graue foresight

  Welds kingdomes causes, & affaires of state,

  My looser rimes (I wote) doth sharply wite,

  For praising loue, as I haue done of late,

  And magnifying louers deare debate;

  By which fraile youth is oft to follie led,

  Through false allurement of that pleasing baite,

  That better were in vertues discipled,

  Then with vaine poemes weeds to haue their fancies fed.

  Such ones ill iudge of loue, that cannot loue,

  Ne in their frosen hearts feele kindly flame:

  For thy, they ought not thing vnknowne reproue,

  Ne naturall affection faultlesse blame,

  For fault of few that haue abusd the same.

  For it of honor and all vertue is

  The roote, and brings forth glorious flowres of fame,

  That crowne true louers with immortall blis,

  The meed of them that loue, and do not liue amisse.

  Which who so list looke backe to former ages,

  And call to count the things that then were donne,

  Shall find, that all the workes of those wise sages,

  And braue exploits which great Heroes wonne,

  In loue were either ended or begunne:

  Witnesse the father of Philosophie,

  Which to his Critias, shaded oft from sunne,

  Of loue full manie lessons did apply,

  The which these Stoicke censours cannot well deny.

  To such therefore I do not sing at all,

  But to that sacred Saint my soueraigne Queene,

  In whose chast breast all bountie naturall,

  And treasures of true loue enlocked beene,

  Boue all her sexe that euer yet was seene;

  To her I sing of loue, that loueth best,

  And best is lou'd of all aliue I weene:

  To her this song most fitly is addrest,

  The Queene of loue, & Prince of peace frõ heauen blest.

  Which that she may the better deigne to heare,

  Do thou dred infant, Venus dearling doue,

  From her high spirit chase imperious feare,

  And vse of awfull Maiestie remoue:

  In sted thereof with drops of melting loue,

  Deawd with ambrosiall kisses, by thee gotten

  From thy sweete smyling mother from aboue,

  Sprinckle her heart, and haughtie courage soften,

  That she may hearke to loue, and reade this lesson often.

  Canto I.

  Fayre Britomart saues Amoret,

  Duessa discord breedes

  Twixt Scudamour and Blandamour:

  Their fight and warlike deedes.

  OF louers sad calamities of old,

  Full many piteous stories doe remaine,

  But none more piteous euer was ytold,

  Then that of Amorets hart-binding chaine,

  And this of Florimels vnworthie paine:

  The deare compassion of whose bitter fit

  My softened heart so sorely doth constraine,

  That I with teares full oft doe pittie it,

  And oftentimes doe wish it neuer had bene writ.

  For from the time that Scudamour her bought

  In perilous fight, she neuer ioyed day,

  A perilous fight when he with force her brought

  From twentie Knights, that did him all assay:

  Yet fairely well he did them all dismay:

  And with great glorie both the shield of loue,

  And eke the Ladie selfe he brought away,

  Whom hauing wedded as did him behoue,

  A new vnknowen mischiefe did from him remoue.

  For that same vile Enchauntour Busyran,

  The very selfe same day that she was wedded,

  Amidst the bridale feast, whilest euery man

  Surcharg'd with wine, were heedlesse and ill hedded.

  All bent to mirth before the bride was bedded,

  Brought in that mask of loue which late was showen:

  And there the Ladie ill of friends bestedded,

  By way of sport, as oft in maskes is knowen,

  Conueyed quite away to liuing wight vnknowen.

  Seuen moneths he so her kept in bitter smart,

  Because his sinfull lust she would not serue,

  Vntill such time as noble Britomart

  Released her, that else was like to sterue,

  Through cruell knife that her deare heart did kerue.

  And now she is with her vpon the way,

  Marching in louely wise, that could deserue

  No spot of blame, though spite did oft assay

  To blot her with dishonor of so faire a pray.

  Yet should it be a pleasant tale, to tell

  The diuerse vsage and demeanure daint,

  That each to other made, as oft befell.

  For Amoret right fearefull was and faint,

  Lest she with blame her honor should attaint,

  That euerie word did tremble as she spake,

  And euerie looke was coy, and wondrous quaint,

  And euerie limbe that touched her did quake:

  Yet could she not but curteous coũtenance to her make.

  For well she wist, as true it was indeed,

  That her liues Lord and patrone of her health

  Right well deserued as his duefull meed,

  Her loue, her seruice, and her vtmost wealth.

  All is his iustly, that all freely dealth:

  Nathlesse her honor dearer then her life,

  She sought to saue, as thing reseru'd from stealth;

  Die had she leuer with Enchanters knife,

  Then to be false in loue, profest a virgine wife.

  Thereto her feare was made so much the greater

  Through fine abusion of that Briton mayd:

  Who for to hide her fained sex the better,

  And maske her wounded mind, both did and sayd

  Full many things so doubtfull to be wayd,

  That well she wist not what by them to gesse,

  For other whiles to her she purpos made

  Of loue, and otherwhiles of lustfulnesse

  That much she feard his mind would grow to some excesse.

  His will she feard; for him she surely thought

  To be a man, such as indeed he seemed,

  And much the more, by that he lately wrought,

  When her from deadly thraldome he redeemed,

  For which no seruice she too much esteemed,

  Yet dread of shame, and doubt of fowle dishonor

  Made her not yeeld so much, as due she deemed.

  Yet Britomart attended duly on her,

  As well became a knight, and did to her all honor.

  It so befell one euening, that they came

  Vnto a Castell, lodged there to bee,

  Where many a knight, and many a louely Dame

  Was then assembled, deeds of armes to see:

  Amongst all which was none more faire then shee,

  That many of them mou'd to eye her sore.

  The custome of that place was such, that hee

  Which had no loue nor lemman there in store,

  Should either winne him one, or lye without the dore.

  Amongst the rest there was a iolly kni
ght,

  Who being asked for his loue, auow'd

  That fairest Amoret was his by right,

  And offred that to iustifie alowd.

  The warlike virgine seeing his so prowd

  And boastfull chalenge, wexed inlie wroth,

  But for the present did her anger shrowd;

  And sayd, her loue to lose she was full loth,

  But either he should neither of them haue, or both.

  So foorth they went, and both together giusted;

  But that same younker soone was ouer throwne,

  And made repent, that he had rashly lusted

  For thing vnlawfull, that was not his owne:

  Yet since he seemed valiant, through vnknowne,

  She that no lesse was courteous then stout,

  Cast how to salue, that both the custome showne

  Were kept, and yet that Knight not locked out:

  That seem'd full hard t'accord two things so far in dout.

  The Seneschall was cal'd to deeme the right,

  Whom she requir'd, that first fayre Amoret

  Might be to her allow'd, as to a Knight,

  That did her win and free from chalenge set:

  Which straight to her was yeelded without let.

  Then since that strange Knights loue from him was quitted,

  She claim'd that to her selfe, as Ladies det,

  He as a Knight might iustly be admitted;

  So none should be out shut, sith all of loues were fitted.

  With that her glistring helmet she vnlaced;

  Which doft, her golden lockes, that were vp bound

  Still in a knot, vnto her heeles downe traced,

  And like a silken veile in compasse round

  About her backe and all her bodie wound;

  Like as the shining skie in summers night,

  What time the dayes with scorching heat abound,

  Is creasted all with lines of firie light,

  That it prodigious seemes in common peoples sight.

  Such when those Knights and Ladies all about

  Beheld her, all were with amazement smit,

  And euery one gan grow in secret dout

  Of this and that, according to each wit:

  Some thought that some enchantment faygned it;