Sivut kuvina

He loved eke Iphimedia deare,

And underneath his feet was written thus, And Aeolus faire daughter, Arnè hight,

Unto the victor of the gods this bee: For whom he turnd himselfe into a steare,

And all the people in that ample hous And fedd on fodder to beguile her sight.

Did to that image bowe their humble knee, Also, to win Deucalions daughter bright,

And oft committed fowle idolatree. He turnd himselfe into a dolphin fayre;

That wondrous sight faire Britomart amazd, And, like a winged horse, he tooke his flight Ne seeing could her wonder satisfie, To snaky-locke Medusa to repayre, [ayre. But ever more and more upon it gazd, (dazd. On whom he got faire Pegasus that fitteth in the The whiles the passing brightnes her fraile sences Next Saturne was, (but who would ever weene

Tho, as she backward cast her busie eye That sullein Saturne ever weend to love ?

To search each secrete of that goodly sted, Yet love is sullein, and Satúrnlike scene,

Over the dore thus written she did spye, As he did for Erigone it prove,)'

Bee bold : she oft and oft it over-red, That to a centaure did himselfe transmove.

Yet could not find what sence it figured:
So proov'd it eke that gratious god of wine,

But whatso were therein or writ or ment,
When, for to compasse Philliras hard love, She was no whit thereby discouraged
He turnd himselfe into a fruitfull vine,

From prosecuting of her first intent, [went. And into her faire bosome made his grapes decline. But forward with bold steps into the next roome Long were to tell the amorous assayes,

Much fayrer then the former was that roome, And gentle pangues, with which he maked meeke

And richlier, by many partes, arayd; The mightie Mars, to learne his wanton playes ;

For not with arras made in painefull loome, How oft for Venus, and how often eek

But with pure gold it all was overlayd, [playd For many other nymphes, he sore did shreek;

Wrought with wilde antickes which their follies With womanish teares, and with unwarlike smarts, A thousand monstrous formes therein were made,

In the rich metall, as they living were:
Privily moystening his horrid cheeke:
There was he painted full of burning dartes,

Such as false Love doth oft upon him weare; And many wide woundes launched through his For Love in thousand monstrous formes doth oft apinner partes.


And, all about, the glistring walles were hong Ne did he spare (so cruell was the Elfe)

With warlike spoiles and with victorious prayes His owne deare mother, (ah! why should be so ?)

Of mightie conquerours and captaines strong, Ne did he spare sometime to pricke himselfe,

Which were whilóme captíved in their dayes That he might taste the sweet consuming woe,

To cruell Love, and wrought their owne decayes : Which he had wrought to many others moe.

Their swerds and speres were broke, and hauberques But, to declare the mourofull tragedyes

rent, And spoiles wherewith he all the ground did strow, and their proud girlonds of tryumphant bayes More eath to number with how many eyes

Troden in dust with fury insolent, High Heven beholdes sad lovers nightly theeveryes. To shew the victors might and merciless intent. Kings, queenes, lords, ladies, knights, and damsels The warlike mayd, beholding earnestly Were heap'd together with the vulgar sort, [gent, The goodly ordinaunce of this rich place, And mingled with the raskal) rablement,

Did greatly wonder; ne could satisfy Without respect of person or of port,

Her greedy eyes with gazing a long space: To shew Dan Cupids powre and great effort: But more she mervaild that no footings trace And round about a border was entrayld

Nor wight appeard, but wastefull emptiness Of broken bowes and arrowes shivered short; And solemne silence over all that place: And a long bloody river through them rayld, Straunge thing it seem'd, that none was to possesse So lively, and so like, that living sence it fayld.

So rich purveyaunce, pe them keepe with carefulAnd at the upper end of that faire rowme There was an altar built of pretious stone

And, as she lookt about, she did behold Of passing valew and of great renowme,

How over that same dore was likewise writ, On which there stood an image all alone

Be bolde, Be volde, and every where, Be bold; Of massy gold, which with his owne light shone ; That much she muz'd, yet could not construe it And winges it had with sondry colours dight, By any ridling skill or commune wit. More sondry colours then the proud pavone At last she spyde at that rowmes upper end Beares in his boasted fan, or Iris bright,

Another yron dore, on which was writ, When her discolourd bow she spreds through Heven Be not too bold; whereto though she did bend (tend, bright.

Her earnest minde, yet wist not what it might in. Blyndfold he was ; and in his cruell fist

Thus she there wayted antill eventyde, A mortall bow and arrowes keene did hold, Yet living creature none she saw appeare. With which he shot at randon when bim list, And now sad shadowes gan the world to hyde Some headed with sad lead, some with pure gold; From mortall vew, and wrap in darkenes dreare; (Ah! man, beware how thou those dartes behold!) Yet nould she d'off her weary armes, for feare A wounded dragon under him did ly,

Of secret daunger, ne let sleepe oppresse Whose hideous tayle his lefte foot did enfold, Her heavy eyes with natures burdein deare, And with a shaft was shot through either eye,

But drew herselfe aside in sickernesse, That no man forth might draw, ne no man remedye And her welpointed wepons did about her dresse.


The first was Fansy, like a lovely boy

Of rare aspect and beautie without peare,

Matchable either to that ympe of Troy,

Whom love did love and chose his cup to beare; The maske of Cupid, and th' enchaun- Or that same daintie lad, which was so deare ted chamber are displayd;

To great Aicides, that, whenas he dyde, Whence Britomart redeemes faire A

He wailed womanlike with many a teare, moret through charmes decayd.

And every wood and every valley wyde [cryde.

He filld with Hylas name; the nymphes eke Hylas Tho, whenas chearelesse Night ycovered had

His garment neither was of silke nor say, Fayre Heaven with an universall clowd,

But paynted plumes in goodly order dight, That every wight dismayd with darkenes sad

Like as the sunburnt Indians do aray In silence and in sleepe themselves did shrowd,

Their tawney bodies in their proudest plight: She heard a shrilling trompet sound alowd,

As those same plumes, so scemd he raine and light, Signe of nigh battaill, or got victory:

That by his gate might easily appeare; Nought therewith da'inted was her courage prowd, For stil he far'd as dauncing in delight, Byt rather stird to cruell ermity,

And in his hand a windy fap did beare, Expecting ever when some foe she might descry. That in the ydle ayre he mov'd still here and theare. With that, an hideous storme of winde arose,

And him beside marcht amorous Desyre, With dreadfull thunder and lightning atwixt, Who seemd of ryper yeares then th' other swaynes, And an earthquake, as if it streight would lose Yet was that other swayne this elders syre, The world's foundations from his centre fixt : And gave him being, commune to them twayne : A direfull stench of smoke and sulphure mixt His garinent was disguysed very vayne, Ensewd, whose noyaunce fild the fearefull sted And his embrodered bonet cat awry : From the fourth howre of night untill the sixt; Twixt both his hands few sparks he close did strayne, Yet the bold Britonesse was nought ydred,

Which still he blew and kindled busily, Though much emmov'd, but stedfast still persé- That soone they life conceiv'd, and forth in flames


did fly.

All suddeinly a stormy whirlwind blew

Next after him went Doubt, who was yclad Throughout the house, that clapped every dore, In a discolour'd cote of straunge disguyse, With which that yron wicket open flew,

That at his backe a brode capuccio had, As it with mighty levers had bene tore ;

And sleeves dependaunt Albanese-wyse ; And forth yssewd, as on the readie flore

He lookt askew with his mistrustfull eyes, Of some theatre, a grave personage

And nycely trode, as thornes lay in his way, That in his hand a braunch of laurell bore, Or that the fore to shrinke he did avyse ; With comely haveour and count'nance sage, And on a broken recd he still did stay [he lay. Yclad in costly garments fit for tragicke stage. His feeble steps, which shrunck when bard thereon Proceeding to the midst he stil did stand,

With him went Daunger, cloth'd in ragged weed As if in minde he somewhat had to say ;

Made of beares skin, that him more dreadfull made; And to the vulgare beckning with his hand, Yet his owne face was dreadfull, ne did need In signe of silence, as to heare a play,

Straunge borrour to deforme his griesly shade : By lively actions he gan bewray

A net in th’ one hand, and a rusty blade Some argument of matter passioned;

In th' other was; this mischiefe, that mishap; Which doen, he backe retyred soft away,

With th' one his foes he threatned to invade, And, passing by, his name discovered,

With th' other he his friends ment to enwrap: Ease, on his robe in golden letters cyphered. For whom he could not kill he practizd to entrap. The noble mayd still standing all this vewd, Next him was Feare, all arm'd from top to toe, And merveild at his straunge intendiment : Yet thought himselfe not safe enough thereby, With that a joyous fellowship issewd

But feard each shadow moving to or froe; Of minstrales making goodly meriment,

And, his owne armes when glittering he did spy With wanton bardes, and rymers impudent;

Or clashing heard, he fast away did fly, All which together song full chearefully

As ashes pale of hew, and winged heeld; A lay of loves delight with sweet concent:

And evermore on Daunger fixt his eye, After whom marcht a jolly company,

Gainst whom he alwayes bent a brasen shield, In manner of a maske, enranged orderly.

Which his right hand unarmed fearefully did wield, The whiles a most delitious harmony

With him went Hope in rancke, a handsome mayd, In full straunge notes was sweetly heard to sound, Of chearefull looke and lovely to behold; That the rare sweetnesse of the melody

In silken samite she was light arayd,
The feeble sences wholy did confound,

And her fayre lockes were woven up in gold:
And the frayle soule in deepe delight nigh drownd : She alway smyld, and in her hand did hold
And, when it ceast, shrill trompets lowd did bray, An holy-water-sprinckle, dipt in deowe,
That their report did far away rebound;

With which she sprinckled favours manifold
And, when they ceast, it gan againe to play, On whom she list, and did great liking sheowe,
The whiles the maskers marched forth in trim aray. Great liking into many, but true love to feower


And after them Dissemblaunce and Suspect At that wide orifice her trembling hart
Marcht in one rancke, yet an unequall paire; Was drawne forth, and in silver basin layd,
For she was gentle and of milde aspect,

Quite through transfixed with a deadly dart, Courteous to all and seeming debonaire,

And in her blood yet steeming fresh embayd. Goodly adorned and exceeding faire;

And those two villeins (which her steps upstayd, Yet was that all but paynted and purloynd, When her weake feete could scarcely her sustaine, And her bright browes were deckt with borrowed And fading vitail powres gan to fade) haire;

Her forward still with torture did constraine, Her deeds were forged, and her words false coynd, And evermore encreased ber consuming paine. And alwajesin her hand two clewes of silkeshe twynd:

Next after her, the winged god himselfe
But he was fowle, ill favoured, and grim,

Came riding ou a liou ravenous,
Under his ciebrowes looking still askaunce; Taught to obay the menage of that Elfe
And ever, as Dissemblaunce laught on him, That man and beast with powre imperious
He lowrd on her with daungerous eye-glaunce, Subdeweth to his kingdome tyrannous:
Shewing his natore in his countenaunce ;

His blindfold e es he bad awbile unbinde,
His rolling cies did never rest in place,

That his proud spoile of that same dolorous But walkte each where for feare of hid mischaunce, Faire dame he might behold in perfect kinde; Holding a lattis still before his face, [pace. Which seene, he much reiogced in his cruell minde. Through which he stil did peep as forward he did

Of which ful prowd, himselfe uprearing hye Next him went Griefe and Fury matcht yfere; He looked round about with sterne disdayne, Griefe all in sable sorrowfully clad,

And did survay bis goodly company; Downe hanging his dull head with heavy chere, And, marshalling the evill-ordered trayne, Yet inly being more then seeming sad:

With that the darts which his right hand did straine A paire of pincers in his hand he had,

Full dreadfully he shooke, that all did quake, With which he pinched people to the hart, And clapt on hye his coulourd wingës twaine, That from thenceforth a wretched life they ladd, That all his many it affraide did make: In wilfull languor and consuming smart,

Tho, blinding him againe, his way be forth did take. Dying each day with inward wounds of dolours dart.

Behinde him was Reproch, Repentaunce, Shame; But Fury was full ill appareiled

Reproch the first, Shame next, Repeut behinde: In rags, that naked nigh she did appeare,

Repentaunce feeble, sorrowfull, and lame; With ghastly looks and dreadfull drerihed; Reproch despightful, carelesse, and unkinde; And from her backe her garments she did teare, Shame most ill-favourd, bestiall, and blinde: And from her head ofte rente her snarled heare: Shame lowrd, Repentaunce sighd, Reproch did In her right hand a firebrand shee did tosse

scould; About her head, still roaming here and there; Reproch sharpe stings, Repentaunce whipsentwinde, As a dismayed deare in chace embost,

Shame burning broad-yrons in her hand did hold: Forgetfull of his safety, hath his right way lost. All three to each unlike, yet all made in one mould. After them went Displeasure and Pleasaunce, And after them a rude confused rout He looking lompish and full sullein sad,

Of persons flockt, whose names is hard to read: And hanging downe his heavy countenaunce; Emongst them was sterne Strife; and Anger stout; She chearfull, fresh, and full of ioyaunce glad, Unquiet Care; and fond Unthriftyhead; As if no sorrow she ne felt ne drad;

Lewd Losse of Time; and Sorrow seeming dead; That evill matched paire they seemd to bee: Inconstant Chaunge; and false Disloyalty; An angry waspe thione in a viall had,

Consuming Riotise; and guilty Dread Th' other in hers an hony lady-bee. [gree. Of beavenly vengeaunce; faint Infirmity; Thus marched these six couples forth in faire de Vile Poverty; and, lastly, Death with infamy. After all these there marcht a most faire dame, There were full many moe like maladies, Led of two grysie villeins, th' one Despight, Whose names and natures I note readen well; The other cleped Cruelty by name:

So many moe, as there be phantasies She dolefull lady, like a dreary spright

In wavering womens witt, that none can tell, Cald by strong charmes out of eternall night, Or paines in love, or punishments in Hell : Had Deathes own ymage figurd in her face, All which disguized marcht in masking-wise Full of sad signes, fearfull to living sight;

About the chamber by the damozell; Yet in that horror shewd a seemely grace, And then returned, having marched thrise, And with her feeble feete did move a comely pace. Into the inner rowme from whence they first did rise. Her brest all naked, as nett yrory

So soone as they were in, the dore streightway Without adorne of gold or silver bright

Past locked, driven with that stormy blast Wherewith the craftesman wonts it beautify, Which first it opened, and bore all away, Of her dew honour was despoyled quight;

Then the brave maid, which al this while was plast And a wide wound therein (O ruefuil sight!) In secret shade, and saw both first and last, Entrenched deep with knyfe accursed kerne, Issewd forth and went unto the dore Yet freshly bleeding forth her fainting spright, To enter in, but fownd it locked fast: (The worke of cruell hand) was to be seene, It vaine she thought with rigorous uprore. That dyde in sanguine red her skin all snowy cleene: For to efforce, when charmes had closed it afore.


Where force might not availe, there sleights and art And to him said; “ Thou wicked man, whose meed
She cast to use, both fitt for hard emprize : For so huge mischiefe and vile villany
Forthy from that same rowme not to depart Is death, or if that ought doe' death exceed;
Till morrow next shee did herselfe avize,

Be sure that nought may save thee from to dy
When that same maske againe should forth arize. But if that thou this dame do presently
The morrowe next appeard with ioyous cheare, Restore unto her health and former state;
Calling men to their daily exercize :

This doe, and live; els dye undoubtedly." Then she, as morrow fresh, herselfe did reare He, glad of life, that lookt for death but late, Out of her secret stand that day for to outweare. Did yield himselfe right willing to prolong his date: All that day she outwore in wandering

And rising up gan streight to over-looke And gazing on that chambers ornament,

Those cursed leaves, his charmes back to reverse: Till that againe the second evening

Full dreadfull thinges out of that balefull booke Her covered with her sable vestiment,

He red, and measur'd many a sad verse, Wherewith the worlds faire beautie she hath blent: | That horrour gan the virgins hart to perse, Then, when the second watch was almost past, And her faire locks up stared stiffe on end, That brasen dore flew open, and in went

Hearing him those same bloody lynes reherse; Bold Britomart, as she had late forecast,

And, all the while he red, she did extend Nether of ydle showes nor of false charmes aghast. Her sword high over him, if ought he did offend. So soone as she was entred, rownd about

Anon she gan perceive the house to quake, Shee cast her eies to see what was become

And all the dores to rattle round about; Of all those persons which she saw without: Yet all that did not her dismaied make, But lo! they streight were vanisht all and some; Nor slack her threatfull hand for daungers dout, Ne living wight she saw in all that roome,

But still with stedfast eye and courage stout Save that same woefull lady; both whose hands Abode, to weet what end would come of all : Were bounden fast, that did her ill become, At last that nightie chaine, wbich round about And her small waste girt rownd with yron bands Her tender waste was wound, adowne gan fall, Unto a brasen pillour, by the which she stands. And that great brasen pillour broke in peeces small And, her before, the vile enchaunter sate,

The cruell steele, which thrild her dying hart, Figuring straunge characters of his art;

Fell softly forth, as of his owne accord; With living blood he those characters wrate, And the wyde wound, which lately did dispart Dreadfully dropping from ber dying hart,

Her bleeding brest and riven bowels gord, Seeming transfixed with a cruell dart;

Was closed up, as it had not beene sor'd; And all perforce to make her him to love. And every part to safëty full sownd, Ah! who can love the worker of her smart! As she were never hurt, was soone restord: A thousand charmes he formerly did prove ; Tho, when she felt herselfe to be unbawnd Yet thousand charmes could not her stedfast hart And perfect hole, prostrate she fell into the growad;

Before faire Britomart she fell prostráte, Soon as that virgin knight be saw in place, Saying ; “ Ah! noble knight, what worthy meede His wicked bookes in hast he overthrew,

Can wretched lady, quitt froin wofull state, Not caring his long labours to deface;

Yield you in lieu of this your gracious seed? And, fiercely running to that lady trew,

Your vertue selfe her owne reward shall breed, A murdrous knife out of his pocket drew,

Even immortall prayse and glory wyde, The which he thought, for villeinous despight, Which I your vassall, by your prowesse freed, In her tormented bodie to embrew :

Shall through the world make to be notifyde, But the stout damzell to him leaping light And goodly well advaunce that goodly well was His cursed band withheld, and maistered his might. tryde." From her, to whom his fury first he ment, But Britomart, uprearing her from grownd, The wicked weapon rashly he did wrest,

Said; “Gentle dame, reward enough I weene, And, turning to herselfe his fell intent,

For many labours more than I have found, Unwares it strooke into her snowie chest,

This, that in safetie now I have you seene, That litle drops empurpled her faire brest. And meané of your deliverance have beene: Exceeding wroth therewith the virgin grew,

Henceforth, faire lady, comfort to you take, Albe the wound were nothing deepe imprest, And put away remembrance of late teene; And fiercely forth her mortall blade she drew, Insted thereof, know that your loving make To give him the reward for such vile outrage dew. Hath no lesse griefe endured for your gentle sake," So mightily she smote him, that to ground (slaine, She much was cheard to heare him mentiond, He fell halfe dead; next stroke him should have Whom of all living wightes she loved best. Had not the lady, which by him stood bound, Then laid the noble championesse strong hond Dernly unto her called to abstajne

Upon th' enchaunter which had her distrest From doing him to dy; for else her paine So sore, and with foule outrages opprest: Should be remédilesse ; sith none but hee

With that great chaine, wherewith not long ygoe Which wrought it could the same recure againe. He bound that pitteous lady prisoner now relest, Therewith she stayd her hand, loth stayd to bee; Himselfe she bound, more worthy to be so, For life she him envyde, and long'd revenge to see: And captive with her led to wretcheduesse and wo.


Returning back, those goodly rowmes, which erst stanzas which are mentioned above, as omitted in She saw so rich and royally arayd,

the second edition, and printed in the first, are the Now vanisht utterly and cleane subverst

She found, and all their glory quite decayd;
That sight of such a chaunge her much dismayd. At last she came unto the place, where late

Thence forth descending to that perlous porch, She left sir Scudamour in great distresse,
Those dreadfull flames she also found delayd Twixt dolour and despight half desperate,
And quenched quite like a consumed torch, Of his loues succour, of his owne redresse,
That erst all entrers wont so cruelly to scorch. And of the hardie Britomarts successe:

There on the cold earth him now thrown she found, More easie issew now then entrance late

In wilful anguish, and dead heavinesse, She found; for now that fained-dreadfull flame, And to him cald; whose voices knowen sound Which chokt the porch of that enchaunted gate Soone as he heard, himself he reared light from And passage bard to all that thither came,

ground. Was vanisht quite, as it were not the same, And gave her leave at pleasure forth to passe. There did he see, that most on Earth him ioyd, Th'enchaunter selfe, which all that fraud did frame His dearest loue, the comfort of bis dayes, To have efforst the love of that faire lasse,

Whose too long absence him had sore annoyd, Seeing his worke now wasted, deepe engrieved was. And wearied his life with dull delayes :

Straight he upstarted from the loathed layes, But when the victoresse arrived there

And to her ran with hasty eagernesse, Where late she left the pensife Scudamore Like as a deare, that greedily embayes With her own trusty squire, both full of feare, In the cool soile, after long thirstinesse, (lesse. Neither of them sbe found where she them lore: Which he in chace endured hath, now nigh breathThereat her noble hart was stonisht sore; But most faire Amoret, whose gentle spright Lightly he clipt her twixt his armës twaine, Now gan to feede on hope, which she before And streightly did embrace her body bright, Conceived had, to see her own deare knight, Her body, late the prison of sad paine, Being thereof beguyld, was fild with new affright. Now the sweet lodge of loue and dear delight:

But the faire lady, overcommon quight But he, sad man, when he had long in drede Of huge affection, did in pleasure melt, Awayted there for Britomarts returne,

And in sweet ravishment pourd out her spright. Yet saw her not, nor signe of her good speed, No word they spake, nor earthly thing they felt, His expectation to despaire did turne,

But like two senceless stocks in long embracements
Misdeeming sure that her those flames did burne; dwelt.
And therefore gan advize with her old squire,
Who her deare pourslings losse no lesse did mourne, Had ye them seene, ye would have surely thought
Thence to depart for further aide t'enquire : That they had been that faire hermaphrodite,
Where let them wend at will, whilest here I doe Which that rich Roman of white marble wrought,

And in his costly bath causd to be site.
So seemd those two, as growne together quite;
That Britomart, halfe enuying their blesse,
Was much empassiond in her gentle sprite,

And to her selfe oft wisht like happinesse: [sesse. When Spenser printed his first three books of In vaine she wisht, that fate n'ould let her yet posthe Faerie Queene, the two lovers, sir Scudamore and Amoret, have a happy meeting: but after- Thus doe those louers with sweet counteruayle, wards, when he printed the fourth, fifth, and sixth Each other of loues bitter fruit despoile. books, he reprinted likewise the three first books; But now my teme begins to faint and fayle, and, among other alterations of the lesser kind, he All woxen weary of their journall toyle; left out the five last stanzas, and made three new Therefore I will their sweatie yokes assoyle stanzas, viz. More easie issew now, &c. By these At this same furrowes end, till a new day: alterations this third book not only connects better And ye, fair swayns, after your long tarmoyle, with the fourth, but the reader is kept in that sus- Now cease your worke, and at your pleasure play: pense which is necessary in a well-told story. The | Now cease your work; to morrow is an holy day.

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