Tho, up him taking in their tender hands,
They easely unto her charett beare:
Her teme at her commaundement quiet stands,
Whiles they the corse into her wagon reare,
And strowe with flowres the lamentable beare:
Then all the rest into their coches clim,
And through the brackish waves their passage sheare;
Upon great Neptunes necke they softly swim,
And to her watry chamber swiftly carry him.

Deepe in the bottome of the sea, her bowre
Is built of hollow billowes heaped hye,
Like to thicke clouds that threat a stormy showre,
And vauted all within like to the skye,
In which the gods doe dwell eternally:
There they him laide in easy couch well dight;
And sent in haste for Tryphon, to apply
Salves to his wounds, and medicines of might:
For Tryphon of sea-gods the soveraine leach is hight.

The whiles the nymphes sitt all about him rownd,
Lamenting his mishap and heavy plight;
And ofte his mother, vewing his wide wownd,
Cursed the hand that did so deadly smight
Her dearest sonne, her dearest harts delight:
But none of all those curses overtooke

The warlike maide, th' ensample of that might;
But fayrely well shee thryvd, and well did brooke
Her noble deedes, ne her right course for ought for-
sooke.

Yet did false Archimage her still pursew,
To bring to passe his mischievous intent,
Now that he had her singled from the crew
Of courteous knights, the prince and Fary gent,
Whom late in chace of beauty excellent
Shee lefte, pursewing that same foster strong;
Of whose fowle outrage they impatient,
And full of firy zele, him followed long, [wrong.
To reskew her from shame, and to revenge her

Through thick and thin, through mountains and through playns,

Those two great champions did attonce pursew
The fearefull damzell with incessant payns ;
Who from them fled, as light-foot hare from vew
Of hunter swifte and sent of howndës trew.
At last they came unto a double way;
Where, doubtfull which to take, her to reskéw,
Themselves they did dispart, each to assay
Whether more happy were to win so goodly pray.

But Timias, the princes gentle squyre,
That ladies love unto his lord forlent,
And with proud envy and indignant yre
After that wicked foster fiercely went:

So beene they three, three sondry wayes ybent:
But fayrest fortune to the prince befell;
Whose chaunce it was, that soone he did repent,
To take that way in which that damozell
Was fledd afore, affraid of him as feend of Hell.

At last of her far off he gained vew:
Then gan he freshly pricke his fomy steed,
And ever as he nigher to her drew,
So evermore he did increase his speed,
And of each turning still kept wary heed:
Alowd to her he oftentimes did call
To doe away vaine doubt and needlesse dreed:
Full myld to her he spake, and oft let fall
Many meeke wordes to stay and comfort her withall.

But nothing might relent her hasty flight;
So deepe the deadly feare of that foule swaine
Was earst impressed in her gentle spright:
Like as a fearefull dove, which through the raine
Of the wide ayre her way does cut amaine,
Having farre off espyde a tassell gent,
Which after her his nimble winges doth straine,
Doubleth her hast for feare to bee for-hent,
And with her pineons cleaves the liquid firmament.

With no lesse hast, and eke with no lesse dreed,
That fearefull ladie fledd from him that ment
To her no evill thought nor evill deed;
Yet former feare of being fowly shent
Carried her forward with her first intent:
And though, oft looking backward, well she vewde
Herselfe freed from that foster insolent,

And that it was a knight which now her sewde,
Yet she no lesse the knight feard then that villein
rude.

His uncouth shield and straunge armes her dismayd,
Whose like in Faery lond were seldom seene;
That fast she from him fledd, no lesse afrayd
Then of wilde beastes if she had chased beene:
Yet he her followd still with corage keene
So long, that now the golden Hesperus
Was mounted high in top of Heaven sheene,
And warnd his other brethren ioyeous
To light their blessed lamps in loves eternall hous.

All suddenly dim wox the dampish ayre,
And griesly shadowes covered Heaven bright,
That now with thousand starres was decked fayre :
Which when the prince beheld, a lothfull sight,
And that perforce, for want of lenger light,
He mote surceasse his suit, and lose the hope
Of his long labour; he gan fowly wyte
His wicked fortune that had turnd aslope,
And cursed Night that reft from him so goodly scope.
Tho, when her wayes he could no more descry,
But to and fro at disaventure strayd;
Like as a ship, whose lodestar suddeinly
Covered with clouds her pilott hath dismayd;
His wearisome pursuit perforce he stayd,
And from his loftie steed dismounting low
Did let him forage: downe himselfe be layd
Upon the grassy ground to sleepe a throw;
The cold earth was his couch, the hard steele his
pillów.

But gentle Sleepe envyde him any rest;
Instead thereof sad sorow and disdaine
Of his hard harp did vexe his noble brest,
And thousand fancies bett his ydle brayne
With their light wings, the sights of semblants vaine:
Oft did he wish that lady faire mote bee
His Faery queene, for whom he did complaine;
Or that his Faery queene were such as shee:
And ever hasty Night he blamed bitterlie:
"Night! thou fowle mother of annoyaunce sad,
Sister of heavie Death, and nourse of Woe,
Which wast begot in Heaven, but for thy bad
And brutish shape thrust downe to Hell below,
Where, by the grim floud of Cocytus slow,
Thy dwelling is in Herebus black hous,
(Black Herebus, thy husband, is the foe
Of all the gods) where thou ungratious
Halfe of thy dayes doest lead in horrour hideous;

"What had th' Eternal Maker need of thee
The world in his continuall course to keepe,
That doest all thinges deface, ne lettest see
The beautie of his worke? Indeed in sleepe
The slouthfull body that doth love to steepe
His lustlesse limbes, and drowne his baser mind,
Doth praise thee oft, and oft from Stygian deepe
Calls thee his goddesse, in his errour blind,
And great dame Natures handmaide chearing every
kind.

"But well I wote that to an heavy hart
Thou art the roote and nourse of bitter cares,
Breeder of new, renewer of old smarts;
Instead of rest thou lendest rayling teares;
Instead of sleepe thou sendest troublous feares
And dreadfull visions, in the which alive
The dreary image of sad Death appeares :
So from the wearie spirit thou doest drive
Desired rest, and men of happinesse deprive.

"Under thy mantle black their hidden lye
Light-shonning Thefte, and traiterous Intent,
Abhorred Bloodshed, and vile Felony,
Shamefull Deceipt, and Daunger imminent,
Fowle Horror, and eke hellish Dreriment:
All these I wote in thy protection bee,
And light doe shonne, for feare of being shent:
For light ylike is loth'd of them and thee;
And all, that lewdnesse love, doe hate the light to see.

"For Day discovers all dishonest wayes,
And sheweth each thing as it is in deed:
The prayses of high God he faire displayes,
And his large bountie rightly doth areed:
Dayes dearest children be the blessed seed
Which Darknesse shall subdue and Heaven win:
Truth is his daughter; he her first did breed
Most sacred virgin without spot of sinne :

Our life is day; but death with darknesse doth begin.

"O, when will Day then turne to me againe,
And bring with him his long-expected light!
O, Titan! hast to reare thy ioyous waine;
Speed thee to spred abroad thy beamës bright,
And chace away this too long lingring night;
Chace her away, from whence she came, to Hell:
She, she it is, that hath me done despight:
There let her with the damned spirits dwell,
And yield her rowme to day, that can it governe
well."

Thus did the prince that wearie night outweare
In restlesse anguish and unquiet paine;
And earely, ere the Morrow did upreare
His deawy head out of the ocean maine,
He up arose, as halfe in great disdaine,
And clombe unto his steed: so forth he went
With heavy looke and lumpish pace, that plaine
In him bewraid great grudge and maltalent:
His steed eke seemd t' apply his steps to his intent.

CANTO V.

Prince Arthur hears of Florimell: Three fosters Timias wound; Belphœbe findes him almost dead, And reareth out of swownd.

WONDER it is to see in diverse mindes
How diversly Love doth his pageants play,
And shewes his powre in variable kindes:
The baser wit, whose ydle thoughts alway
Are wont to cleave unto the lowly clay,
It stirreth up to sensuall desire,

And in lewd slouth to wast his careless day;
But in brave sprite it kindles goodly fire,
That to all high desert and honour doth aspire.

Ne suffereth it uncomely Idlenesse

In his free thought to build her sluggish nest;
Ne suffereth it thought of ungentlenesse
Ever to creepe into his noble brest;
But to the highest and the worthiest
Lifteth it up that els would lowly fall:

It lettes not fall, it lettes it not to rest;

It lettes not scarse this prince to breath at all,
But to his first poursuit him forward still doth call:

Who long time wandred through the forest wyde
To finde some issue thence; till that at last
He met a dwarfe that seemed terrifyde
With some late perill which he hardly past,
Or other accident which him aghast ;
Of whom he asked, whence he lately came,
And whether now he traveiled so fast :
For sore he swat, and, ronning through that same
Thicke forest, was bescracht, and both his feet nigh
lame.

Panting for breath, and almost out of hart,
The dwarfe him answerd; "Sir, ill mote I stay
To tell the same: I lately did depart
From Faery court, where I have many a day
Served a gentle lady of great sway

And high accompt throughout all Elfin land,
Who lately left the same, and tooke this way:
Her now I seeke; and if ye understand [hand,"
Which way she fared hath, good sir, tell out of

"What mister wight," saide he, "and how arayd?"
"Royally clad," quoth he, " in cloth of gold,
As meetest may beseeme a noble mayd;
Her faire lockes in rich circlet be enrold,
A fayrer wight did never Sunne behold;
And on a palfrey rydes more white then snow,
Yet she herselfe is whiter manifold;
The surest signe, whereby ye may her know,
Is, that she is the fairest wight alive, I trow."

"Now certes, swaine," saide he, "such one, I weene,
Fast flying through this forest from her fo,
A foule ill-favoured foster, I have seene;
Herselfe, well as I might, I reskewd tho,
But could not stay; so fast she did foregoe,
Carried away with wings of speedy feare."
"Ah! dearest God," quoth he, "that is great woe,
And wondrous ruth to all that shall it heare:
But can ye read, sir, how I may her fide, or where?"

"That ladie is," quoth he, "whereso she bee,
The bountiest virgin and most debonaire
That ever living eye, I weene, did see:
Lives none this day that may with her compare
In stedfast chastitie and vertue rare,
The goodly ornaments of beauty bright;
And is ycleped Florimell the fayre,
Faire Florimell belov'd of many a knight,

Yet she loves none but one, that Marinell is hight;

“A sea-nymphes sonne, that Marinell is hight,
Of my deare dame is loved dearely well;
In other none, but him, she sets delight;
All her delight is set on Marinell;
But he sets nought at all by Florimell:
For ladies love his mother long y goe

Did him, they say, forwarne through sacred speli:
But fame now flies, that of a forreine foe

He is yslaine, which is the ground of all our woe.

"Five daies there be since he (they say) was slaine,
And fowre since Florimell the court forwent,
And vowed never to returne againe
Till him alive or dead she did invent.
Therefore, faire sit, for love of knighthood gent
And honour of trew ladies, if ye may
By your good counsell, or bold hardiment,
Or succour her, or me direct the way,
Do one or other good, I you most humbly pray:

"So may ye gaine to you full great renowme
Of all good ladies through the worlde so wide,
And haply in her bart finde highest rowme
Of whom ye seeke to be most magnifide!
At least eternall meede shall you abide.”
To whom the prince; “Dwarfe, comfort to thee take;
For, till thou tidings learne what her betide,
I here avow thee never to forsake:
[sake."
Ill weares he armes, that nill them use for ladies

So with the dwarfe he back retourn'd againe,
To seeke his lady, where he mote her finde;
But by the way be greatly gan complaine
The want of his good squire late left behinde,
For whom he wondrous pensive grew in minde,
For doubt of daunger which mote him betide;
For him he loved above all mankinde,
Having him trew and faithfull ever tride,
And bold, as ever squyre that waited by knights side:

Who all this while full hardly was assayd
Of deadly danger which to him betidd:
For, whiles his lord pursewd that noble mayd,
After that foster fowle he fiercely ridd
To bene avenged of the shame he did
To that faire damzell: him he chaced long [hid
Through the thicke woods wherein he would have
His shamefull head from his avengement strong,
And oft him threatned death for his outrageous
wrong.

[pard.

Nathlesse the villein sped himselfe so well,
Whether through swiftnesse of his speedie beast,
Or knowledge of those woods where he did dwell,
That shortly he from daunger was releast,
And out of sight escaped at the least;
Yet not escaped from the dew reward
Of his bad deedes, which daily he increast,
Ne ceased not, till him oppressed hard
The heavie plague that for such leachours is pre-
For, soone as he was vanisht out of sight,
His coward courage gan emboldned bee,
And cast t' avenge him of that fowle despight
Which he had borne of his bold enimee:
Tho to his brethren came, (for they were three
Ungratious children of one gracelesse syre)
And unto them complayned how that he
Had used beene of that foole-hardie squyre:
So them with bitter words he stird to bloodie yre.
Forthwith themselves with their sad instruments
Of spoyle and murder they gan arme bylive,
And with him foorth into the forrest went
To wreake the wrath, which he did earst revive
In there sterne brests, on him which late did drive
Their brother to reproch and shamefull flight:
For they had vow'd that never he alive
Out of that forest should escape their might;
Vile rancour their rude harts had fild with such de-
spight.

Within that wood there was a covert glade,
Foreby a narrow foord, to them well knowne,
Through which it was uneath for wight to wade;
And now by fortune it was overflowne:
By that same way they knew that squyre unknowne
Mote algates passe; forthy themselves they set
There in await with thicke woods overgrowne,
And all the while their malice they did whet [let.
With cruell threats his passage through the ford to

It fortuned, as they devized had,

The gentle squyre came ryding that same way,
Unweeting of their wile and treason bad,
And through the ford to passen did assay;
But that fierce foster, which late fled away,
Stoutly foorth stepping on the further shore,
Him boldly bad his passage there to stay,
Till he had made amends, and full restore
For all the damage which he had him doen afore.
With that, at him a quiv'ring dart he threw
With so fell force, and villeinous despite,
That through his haberieon the forkehead flew,
And through the linked mayles empierced quite,
But had no powre in his soft flesh to bite:
That stroke the hardy squire did sore displease,
But more that him he could not come to smite;
For by no meanes the high banke he could sease,
But labour'd long in that deepe ford with vaine dis-

ease.

And still the foster with his long bore-speare
Him kept from landing at his wished will:
Anone one sent out of the thicket neare
A cruell shaft headed with deadly ill,
And fethered with an unlucky quill;
The wicked steele stayd not till it did light
In his left thigh, and deepely did it thrill:
Exceeding griefe that wound in him empight,
But more that with his foes he could not come to
fight.

At last, through wrath and vengeaunce, making way
He on the bancke arryvd with mickle payne;
Where the third brother him did sore assay,
And drove at him with all his might and mayne
A forest-bill, which both his hands did strayne;'
But warily he did avoide the blow,
And with his speare requited him agayne,
That both his sides were thrilled with the throw,
And a large streame of bloud out of the wound did
flow.

He, tombling downe, with gnashing teeth did bite
The bitter earth, and bad to lett him in
Into the balefull house of endlesse night,
Where wicked ghosts doe waile their former sin.
Tho gan the battaile freshly to begin;
For nathëmore for that spectacle bad
Did th' other two their cruell vengeaunce blin,
But both attonce on both sides him bestad,
And load upon him layd, his life for to have had.

Tho when that villayn he aviz`d, which late
Affrighted had the fairest Florimell,
Full of fiers fury and indignant hate
To him he turned, and with rigor fell
Smote him so rudely on the pannikell,
That to the chin he clefte his head in twaine :
Downe on the ground his carkas groveling fell;
His sinfull sowle with desperate disdaine
Out of her fleshly ferme fled to the place of paine.

That seeing, now the only last of three
Who with that wicked shafte him wounded had,
Trembling with horror, (as that did foresee
The fearefull end of his avengement sad,
Through which he follow should his brethren bad,)
His bootelesse bow in feeble hand upcaught,
And therewith shott an arrow at the lad;
Which fayntly fluttring scarce his helmet raught,
And glauncing fel to ground, but him annoyed
naught.

With that, he would have fled into the wood;
But Timias him lightly overhent,
Right as he entring was into the flood,
And strooke at him with force so violent,
That headlesse him into the foord he sent;
The carcas with the streame was carried downe,
But th' head fell backeward on the continent;
So mischief fel upon the meaners crowne :
They three be dead with shame; the squire lives
with renowne:

He lives, but takes small ioy of his renowne;
For of that cruell wound he bled so sore,
That from his steed he fell in deadly swowne;
Yet still the blood forth gusht in so great store,
That he lay wallowd all in h's owne gore.
Now God thee keepe! thou gentlest squire alive,
Els shall thy loving lord thee see no more;
But both of comfort him thou shait deprive,
And eke thyselfe of honor which thou didst atchive.

Providence hevenly passeth living thought,
And doth for wretched mens reliefe make way;
For loe! great grace or fortune thether brought
Comfort to him that comfortlesse now lay.
In those same woods ye well remember may
How that a noble hunteresse did wonne,
Shee, that base Braggadochio did affray,
And made him fast out of the forest ronne;
Belphoebe was her name, as faire as Phoebus sunne.

Shortly she came whereas that woefull squire
With blood deformed lay in deadly swownd;
In whose faire eyes, like lamps of quenched fire,
The christall humor stood congealed rownd;
His locks, like faded leaves fallen to grownd,
Knotted with blood in bounches rudely ran;
And his sweete lips, on which before that stownd
The bud of youth to blossome faire began,
Spoild of their rosy red were woxen pale and wan.

Saw never living eie more heavy sight,
That could have made a rocke of stone to rew,
Or rive in twaine: which when thatlady bright,
Besides all hope, with melting eies did vew,
All suddenly abasht shee chaunged hew,
And with sterne horror backward gan to start:
But, when shee better him beheld, shee grew
Full of soft passion and unwonted smart:
The point of pitty perced through her tender hart.
Meekely shee bowed downe, to weete if life
Yett in his frosen members did remaine;
And, feeling by his pulses beating rife
That the weake sowle her seat did yett retaine,
Shee cast to comfort him with busy paine:
His double-folded necke she reard upright,
And rubd his temples and each trembling vaine;
His mayled haberieon she did undight,
And from his head his heavy burganet did light.
Into the woods thenceforth in haste shee went,
To seeke for hearbes that mote him remedy;
For shee of herbes had great intendiment,
Taught of the nymphe which from her infancy
Her nourced had in trew nobility:
There, whether yt divine tobacco were,
Or panachæa, or polygony,

She fownd, and brought it to her patient deare,
Who al this while lay bleding out his hart-blood

neare.

The soveraine weede betwixt two marbles plaine
Shee pownded small, and did in peeces bruze;
And then atweene her lilly handës twaine
Into his wound the juice thereof did scruze;
And round about, as she could well it uze,
The flesh therewith she suppled and did steepe,
T'abate all spasme and soke the swelling bruze;
And, after having searcht the intuse deepe,
She with her scarf did bind the wound, from cold
to keepe.

By this he had sweet life recur'd agayne,
And, groning inly decpe, at last his eies,
His watry eies drizling like deawy rayne,
He up gan lifte toward the azure skies,
From whence descend all hopelesse remedies:
Therewith, he sigh'd; and, turning him aside,
The goodly maide full of divinities

And gifts of heavenly grace he by him spide,
Her bow and gilden quiver lying him beside,